
The Civil War Letters of John Hager, Co. B, 110th New York Infantry
The following 171 letters were made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by Sue Hager, a descendant of John Hager (1829-1897) of Oswego who served in Co. B, 110th New York Infantry during the American Civil War. According to company rolls where he was borne as “Hagar”, John mustered in as a private on 13 August 1862 and mustered out with the company on 28 August 1865 at Albany, New York (3 years, 23 days). The enrolling officer described John as 5′ 7″ tall, with blue eyes and sandy hair.
1862 Letters (1 through 29)
1863 Letters (30 through 115)
1864 Letters (116 through 148)
1865 Letters (149 through 171)

Letter 149
Fort Jefferson
December 30, 1864
Dear Phebe,
Today I got 2 letters from you. They found me well.I am glad to hear from you and hear that you are as well off as you are. I know it must be pretty tight times for you as well as for myself but we must make the best of it we can. It ain’t long now that I have got to stay—not if we stay our time out. Some say we will get 3 months furlough. If we do, then I shall be home in May. But I don’t know whether we will get it or not, but I hope so. If not, they can hold us till the 25th of August, but our time is out the 12th day of August. But if I can get home by the 25th all safe and sound, then I will be satisfied.
We get good news from Gen. Sherman’s Army. He is doin’ big things in Georgia. He is on his way to Charleston. He just routs every rebel and what he can’t take along, he just burns. He burnt 32 grist mills in one place and took a lot of other property. But Old Abe has called for 300,000 more soldiers. Well, I think that will make old Richland scratch around some, I recon. But I ain’t there but I am down here where they don’t [have] no draft trouble and I ain’t sorry that I came—not yet, if I get home alive and you live till I get there.
January 1, 1865. Last night I was on guard so I seen the new year come in when it come in. I went on to my post at 11 o’clock. We stand two hours so I had a good chance to see the new year come in. The wind began to blow at 11 like the Old Harry [the devil] and it blows today. I was up on the top of the fort on post 8—that is all the post there is on the ramparts so I was the lucky one to get that last night. It is the best post there is when the wind don’t blow. When the rest of the boys sang out for 12 o clock and all is well, I heard them but that one time but they all hollered then, you know, for it was new years then.
This fort is 42 ft. high on the outside, right straight up and down. There was a guard within 2 rods of me and I could not hear him so you can see by this that the wind blowed some. You never see no wind yet. If this old fort had been made of wood, it would have blowed to the devil last night.
Today is the 2nd day and it is nice and pleasant. It is just about warm enough. Phebe, you spoke of how much you owed. It is only 67.50.
Well, we mustered the last day of last month for 10 months pay. The talk is that we will get our pay this month but I don’t know for certain. Phebe, you must mess your cow some. She won’t be good for nothin’ fed on straw alone all winter. When you get the money, you better buy a little bran and a little meal to feed her. Maybe Orsen can let you have a little money to buy some with. I think he is really kind to let you have money to buy a cow. I shall send you some money as soon as I get it: They say the paymaster is in New Orleans and will be here the 1st of the month. I hope so for your sake.
I am pretty well off now [even] if I hain’t no money. I can get what tobacco I want here to the sutlers and my health is pretty good now and I can eat salt horse just like any old dog. Phebe, I think maybe you had better get Orsen to fix up your barn if he will and I will send you the money to buy the boards and nails. Have a good warm stable for your cow and mess her. Then she will be worth 3 times as much next summer. I think now that I will send home my chest next month cause I don’t think we will stay here more than till April. But maybe we shall stay till our time is out. I cannot tell where we will go. Maybe we won’t leave here till our time is out. This ain’t the worse place to be in the world but it is clear to the South Pole in the United States.
Today is the 3rd and a boat came in so I will finish this and send it. Phebe, you talked about John Caulkins not spendin’ but 30 cents. He ain’t oughta. He ain’t been out but 2 months when he wrote to you and probably they served as we did in Baltimore. I didn’t spend nothin’ till we got on the boat to come here to New Orleans. There I bought all I could. I had been most starvin’. You let your brother John come down here where I have been and he won’t write to you he ain’t spent but 30 cents. He can never do the traveling that this boy has done in the state of Louisiana. They ain’t traveled enough to him for to do. That is enough of this. I would spend no money if I could get along without but I can’t live down here and not buy some things. I might do without tobacco but I won’t. But I can do without whiskey—that I don’t use. Nothing new today. I hope I haven’t wrote anything to offend you. So goodby for today. Keep up good courage my dear.
John Hager
To Phebe Hager, my wife.




Letter 150
Fort Jefferson
January 3, 1865—Today I got water and coal….
4th–Drilled dress parade
5th—I went over to Hog Island after shells.
6th—On guard and it was a damned rainy day.
7th—On dress parade.
8th—On dress parade
9th—On guard
10th—We had inspection for the General from some place and I don’t know where. I write this in a hurry for the boat is a goin’ out.
Phebe, I got a letter from you today and it found me all well and hope this will find you the same. It is as warm here as summer there today. The talk is now that we will go from here in March—maybe before, maybe not at all. But I hope so. I had rather be in the field than to be here, but only 7 months more. That ain’t long.
I have got my shell box done and I shall send it on the next boat to New York. Then it will go to Almont, Lapeer county, Michigan. I have got it all ready to send but it will be a month after you get this before you will get the box. The box is worth 40 dollars and all there is in it. I could get that here for the whole.
I must close by saying you wrote me a good letter. Charley, he done first rate. Tell Emma that I see a piece of her new dress. It is pretty nice. Tell Charley to be a good boy and learn all he can. This is all that I can write in this letter.
Oh, there is one thing more. We hain’t got our pay yet but we look for it now every day. I think we will get it this month. From John Hager to Phebe Hager, my wife.
God bless her. I would like to see her once more and I think I shall.


Letter 151

Fort Jefferson, Tortugas
January the 12, 1865
My dear,
Tonight I take my pen in hand to let you know how I get along. I feel first rate now myself. I have sent my chest to Almont and I will send you the key. But this boat won’t get to N. Y. not till some time next month. I don’t think that it will get there [to Michigan] not much before March. Then, if it gets there all right, you will say it will be worth the money. There is two pairs of pants, one dress coat, one old blanket, one shelter tent that I give 75 cents for last spring, one knife for Charley, 150 cents worth of shells that I bought. They come from Cedar Keys. I shall buy a few more. Then there will be enough to shell a box if they all get there all right. They will be worth $20 dollars to me. It took 2 days to pack up just what there is in that little much box. I have been all summer a getting these shells and making this base and I think it is pretty nice. I shall make one for Jane if I stay here next summer but I don’t know whether we will stay here or not. The boys are a betting we will leave here in March. Maybe we will [or] maybe we will stay here [all] next summer, but I don’t know whether we will stay our time out. I can’t tell nothin about it—not for certain. I don’t know but them shells will smell pretty old because some of them had snails or bugs in. But after you take them out of the chest and they will get over it in a short time.
Well, Miss Emma L. Hager, you think Pa don’t say nothing about her but my little girl I think of you [even] if I don’t say much about you. I have made you and Ma a nice shell box. I could of took 28 dollars for it as soon as the boys get their pay but I wanted to send it home to you so you can see what I have spent my last hours all this long summer. I s’pose your mother will think that the money would be worth more to her than this box is to you, but my little lady, you must be a good girl and help Ma and tell her you will pay her well for it and I will help you when I come home. I shall send the rest of my shells by mail if I send any more.
Phebe, I want you to make Charley a coat of my old one if he likes it, and make him a pair of pants of them old ones. Them is the pants that I got at New Orleans last winter. They are rather too small for me since they have been washed. But they ain’t half wore out yet. That old tent that I sent will make good linen for them and I sent Charley some good shirts. They are too small for me but they are most new ones. They will last him all winter.
You don’t tell me how much fence you have got on your place. Please tell me, and how much plow land there is on it, and what kind of soil it is.
This is all. I got a letter from John Calkins and I have wrote to him today. This is all for tonight so good bye to you till I write again
John Hager to Phebe Hager, my ever beloved wife and friend.


Letter 152
Fort Jefferson, Florida
January 19, 1865
Mrs. John Hager, my dear friend and wife,
Today I got a letter from you. You say you are all well there and so am I. I am glad that you feel as well as you do. I am pretty tough now myself and if I can only lay low till my time is out, then I am all right. Phebe, I sent you 100 dollars. It was in a treasury note. I sent it to Goodland, Lapeer Co., Michigan. There is 3.45 due on it in February the 15. But you will get it before then. I could of got green backs for the note but I thought that Orson would rather have that and it was just as safe to send it, and maybe a little safer. Our government bond is good to keep it. It draws interest all the time, every 6 months. You can cut off one of them and sell it for I hope you will get it for I know now you need money. I don’t know how much longer we shall stay here. Some think we will stay here our time out but I don’t want to stay here another summer.
You say Orson is a going to make sugar this year. I wish that I was there to help make sugar. Charley, he ain’t old enough to work in a sugar bush—not yet. George is well and tough as a bear. There ain’t nothin’ new here to write about but I do think that the war will be ended this year. I hope so.
You spoke of your taxes. You don’t have to pay any this year, do you? I don’t think that your place was assessed to you this year. The man that you bought of will have to pay the taxes this year. I think you must look to that a little and you can make him put back the windows in the house if there was any in there when you bought it. You say Orson is a goin’ to plant 4 or 5 acres and you say you find half of the seed and have all the harvest and [ ] my half. That is a pretty good joke on my old woman. She and Orr puts their seed together. Do you think it will grow good? I guess it will. Mexican corn—it does better some say. Don’t let Charley work too hard in the woods. Don’t let him go with wet feet, not in the spring for it is the worst time of the year.
Well, I must stop writin’ for maybe I shall write too much. I got a letter from Delta and one from Chet. They are all well. Fon’t forget to call for that box….– John Hager


Letter 153

Fort Jefferson Fla.
March the 3, 1865
My Dear,
Today I take my pen in hand to answer you letter that you wrote the 11th of February. You had not got the money yet but it was there to the office. You say you have got the key to the chest but you could not read the writing on the paper. I don’t know what it was but I think that it was something about taking out the shell box. There is two screws in the bottom of the chest. You want to take them out. Tell me how much it costs to get the chest. I don’t think that I shall send any more boxes home.
Phebe, your letter found me well and I feel pretty well pleases to think that the money has got there all safe and sound. That note is worth 1,300 and 35 cents to anybody, whether they want it or not. I would have sent you the money but I thought this note would be better for Orson to keep. I know he had some money or I thought that he had some money that he won’t use right off. So, I sent it.
Phebe, you say you have got some fence to make this spring. If I get my pay this month, I will send you some more money. Now one word to Orsen, if you want more money. tell Orsen to let you have it and I will pay him interest on it till I get my pay. But maybe we will get our pay this month. If we don’,t then you will need more to get along till my time is out. Then I shall have some money to pay him. I don’t want you to go hungry nor very ragged—not if I can help it. But I s’pose you do go a looking like the devil by this time.
Well, old woman, you say we have got two pretty smart children. I am glad to hear that.
Fort Jefferson, Fla.
March the 3, 1865
Mr. Charles Hagar,
I got your letter today and it found me well. Charley, I think you wrote a good letter. You can write better now then I can. I never wrote any to school. I never tried to write any, not till after I was 20 years old. Charley, I am glad that you learn so fast to read and write and to cipher. Now Charles, when you sign your name, then put on C. M. Hager. That looks better than to write all of the name. And when Emma gets old enough to write, then she must write her [name as] E. L. Hager. Don’t you think this is the best way to write your name?
Now Mr. C. M. Hager, I will tell you what happened here the other day. One of our boys went to arrest one of the prisoners and the prisoner said he would not go to the guard house so the soldier just pricked him a little and the prisoner grabbed a hold of the bayonet and the] soldier hauled off and [shot him. The bullet] went through the prisoner but it did not kill him. It hit his hand and tore that pretty bad, besides making a small hole through him. I guess they will learn better than to take hold of another bayonet. They all say that the soldier served him just right. That is our orders, to shoot if they don’t obey orders.
Nothing more today E. L. Hager wrote me a few lines. I think she done pretty well. John Hager to C. M Hager. C. M. Hager don’t forget to sign your name in this way.




Letter 154
Fort Jefferson Fla.
March the 17, 1865
My Dear
Today I will try to answer your letter that I got today. It found me well and I hope these few lines will find you all well and happy for I am as happy as if the devil had me. We have to pay a good deal higher for our clothes now than we did. They have come up, but I don’t care. I shan’t buy any more of Uncle Sam clothes. I have enough to last my time out.
I have just come off from guard and I don’t feel much like writing today but I must write a little you know—just enough to let you know that I am alive yet. I see in the papers that they are a draftin’ but I don’t learn nothing about our 3 months furlough. But only 5 months more and then I am a comin’ home.
I hain’t got nothin’ new to write. We don’t know how long we will stay here but I don’t think that we will stay here more than 3 months longer, if we do that. But I don’t think that we will get home—not until August. If we do then, I will be satisfied if we get out all right then. Noting more today—only they have drafted both of the Repson boys. I send my best respects to Orsen and Hat. I must close.
It is a good way to the office there so I won’t write only once a month now and I han’t got much money. I sent all of my pay that I got this last time and 700 dollars over, but I have got some money now. I can get along with what I have got if you can with what you have got. But I don’t know but we will get our pay this month yet. If we don’t, then we won’t get it—not until our time is out. But if you want any more money before I get home, then you must borrow it of someone if I don’t get my pay this month.
Nothing more today, so good bye for this time, yours truly, — John Hager, to Phebe Hager
Fort Jefferson Fla.
March the 17, 1865
Mr. C. M. Hager, I got your letter today and was glad to hear from you. Charles, I think you do first rate a writing but you want to take a little more pains. But I think you do first rate. C. M. Hager, I hain’t got time to write much today. C. M., when I get time, I will write again. We have a general inspection here today so I can’t write no more. John Hager to C. M. Hager
Written upside down at the top of the letter:
Phebe, I want you to tell me if you think you can get along if I don’t send no more money till my time is out. If you can’t borrow what you want then you tell me in the next letter and I will borrow it and sent it to you.


Letter 155
Fort Jefferson Fla.
March 19, 1865
Today I take my pen in hand to write a few lines to you. The mail hain’t gone yet but will go tomorrow. I am well and hope these lines will find you all sound. It is a nice warm day but rather lonesome to me. How is it over to your house, Phebe? If there is any shells that I hain’t sent that you want, tell me and I will try and get them or if there ain’t enough to shell all the picture frames you want, then tell me and I will get them if I can find them. But it is coming on hot weather now and it costs pretty high to send them. But I am a going to send to Key West after a few more of them shells. Them is those little small white shells. I want a few more of them. They cost pretty high, 12 dollars a pint. We can’t find many of them here on this island. Shells are getting rather scarce here. Almost every man has made a box and some shell frames so shells are pretty well used up. If I had that box and what shells I sent home today, I could get 35 dollars for them. But I am glad they are there where they be. But I don’t s’pose you think they are worth half of that. But Emma, she does I know.
Well, I don’t think I shall send many more shells home unless I can get them pretty cheap. I have got just 16 more envelopes and 16 sheets of paper that I am a going to send home before my time is out so you know about how often I will write.
Yours truly, — John Hagear


Letter 156

Fort Jefferson, Fl.
March 25, 1865
My dear,
I now take my pen in hand to write a few lines to you. I am well and I am a goin’ on guard duty in the morning, so I write tonight. I got a letter from Rhoda today and one from Gardner and one from Chester. They are all well. Rhoda says she got a letter from you and Mary. She says she ain’t heard from you since you went off.
The mail comes in this morning. They say it goes out tomorrow so I write tonight for I don’t get any chance to write on guard but I did scribble a few lines the last time I was on guard. Nothing new here today—only the boys say we will leave here in May or June but they don’t know or anyone else I don’t think.
Well, old woman, it rains here tonight but I feel first rate. Only 5 months more to soldier to the 25th of August. That is as long as they can keep us in this place. That ain’t long. I can sleep half of it away and hardly know it.
They are all happy there at home and so am I happy down here. Old woman, don’t get disheartened. I think you have done first rate. There is better days a comin’ my dearest. I would like to see you first rate but you know we are a good ways from each other but I think I shall see you this summer. I must say goodnight my dear wife. — John Hager to Phebe Hager


Letter 157
Fort Jefferson, Fla.
April the 7, 1865
I now take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you all well. I got two letters from you today and I was glad to hear from you. I see that Hat has got a girl and I s’pose she will write for a name from me. My name—Analice Ann. That is what I call a good name for a girl. If that don’t suit, then I can’t name this one. Tell them my name that I sent.
Phebe, I don’t know nothin’ about your land but I hope it suits you. I am sure l shan’t find any fault with it when I get there. You say Samuel says it ain’t worth much but that don’t make no odds what he thinks about it. He ain’t me nor I ain’t him. I am a soldier and he won’t be, I don’t s’pose. I am sorry they are all sick. Give them my best respects.
George is well. I told him that Hat had got a girl. Phebe, don’t look for me—not until my time is out the 11th day of August. Then we will have to be mustered out. That will suit me the best of any muster that I have seen yet. But some say we will go from here in July, but I don’t hardly we will. Quarantine Law is up now. They would quarantine us now 40 days. If we should start today, they quarantine all from this place in New York before they land. So you see it will be in September, when I get there. But that ain’t long. George is a writing to Orson today. Nothing more. This from John Hager to Mrs. Phebe Hagar, my wife.


Letter 158

Fort Jefferson Fla
April 16, 1865
My dear,
I take my pen in hand to write a few lines to you today. I am well and hope this will find you all well. I am on guard today but I am a writin’ before my dinner so I write a little. The mail is a goin’ out tonight. I got a letter from Chester last night. They are all well. Chet says everything has come down. Old Fleming didn’t sell his butter last fall. He was offered 51 cents but he said it would be 75, so he hain’t sold. Now it ain’t but 18 and 20 cents. The darn old Copperhead has lost 400 dollars by not selling when he was offered a big price.
Phebe, I han’t got time to write today anything but Mrs. Milo Hirkimer has got a boy. It was one week old when he wrote us. It is about 3 now or 4. I told Chet to tell Mrs. Milo Herkimer that I would send a name for her boy if she wants one. I wrote it just as I have here. I spose he will read it to them. I must go to my grub now so I must say good bye to my old woman once more. Yours truly, — John Hager to my wife Phebe Hager
May God bless you all.


Letter 159

Fort Jefferson Fla
April the 18, 1865
Mrs. John Hager, my dear wife,
Today I thought that I would write a few lines to you. The mail hain’t gone yet but will go tonight. I am well and feel first rate myself. The talk is now that we will get our pay next month and the talk is now that we will start for N. Y. the 25th of July. I guess that is so. They say it will be September then by the time we can get mustered out. But some of the boys are a goin’ to get home any way in July. But I ain’t one of that kind. But I would like that well enough. But don’t look for me. No such thing.
It is nice warm weather here.
Well, old woman, I hain’t got nothin’ new to write—not as I know of. How do you get along a making fence this spring? I hope you can get someone to build fence for you. I shall send some money to you if I get paid here. But I s’pose Orsen has got some money that he won’t use right off hain’t he? But maybe he don’t like to send it. Well, old woman, you must do the best you can. Chester says everything is a coming down low. I don’t think that it will be quite as hard times as it has been for poor devils to get a living. Nothin’ more today. So goodbye to my dear, — John Hager, Mrs. Phebe Hager
This 10 cents will pay for reading this and I will give 50 cents for a good answer. You may think strange of my writing such a letter but I have often thought I would write it to you and here it is. Remember that I don’t write nothin’g’ to you but the solemn truth.


Letter 160
Fort Jefferson, Fl.
April 30, 1865
Mrs. Hager, my dear,
I take my pen in hand to scratch a few lines to let you know that I am well. It is Monday here today and we had orders from Old General Grant yesterday to fire 13 guns at sunrise and then every half hour all day, then at sunset another salute of 35-guns. And we have mustered for our pay today so you can see that soldiers have just as much to do on Sundays as any other day—sometimes more. But it is all right. It is peace once more and I am glad to tell you that there won’t be no more fightin’ done in this war but I think that old Johny Bull [England] will be brought to court yet for what she has done, or I know she would have been if Old Abe had of lived four years longer. But now we don’t know what Johnson will do, but there is only one thing that we do know—what he says he will do. He says hang all of the leaders of the rebs. That is just what is the matter of him. He won’t be as easy as Old Abe would of been if the damn Copperheads had let him of lived. It would of been money in their pocket. But damn their party to hell. They will find out now that they have got a Southern President now to deal with. That is just what they have wanted, but he is a good Union man, I think of he ought to be. The rebs drove him out of the South. President Johnson knows just how to take those Rebs. He knows them all.
I s’pose you get some paper to read there. I am going to send for a paper when I get my pay. I think I will send for the New York Times. It cost $3 a year. If there is another you would rather have, just name it. I shall send it to Goodland. I don’t know when we will get our pay. We should get it by the last of May. If we don’t then, we shan’t get it till we get home. That won’t be long now—August 25th some say. I think the 11th, but I think now that we will stay here longer than till the last of July and maybe not any longer than the last of June. We shall go from here to N. Y. and there will be mustered out. I don’t think we will get home—not much before our time is out. I will be satisfied if I get home anytime between now and Sept. I don’t care if we could start today. Phebe, I don’t know but you think I write pretty often but you know I have a foolish notion I should write once a week. I did think that last letter I wrote that I wouldn’t write another till I got an answer but I did. — John Hager


Letter 161
Fort Tortugas Fla.
May the 14, 1865
Today is Sunday and it is a rather lonesome one to me so I write to my dear wife so far from me. Well, my dear, I won’t wonder if we went from here by the first of June now. Everything looks like it to me and I hope that the next boat that comes in will take us to New York. But I don’t know when we will go from here. But I hope pretty soon. I am well and hope these lines will find you all well. Phebe, I hain’t got nothin’ new to say so I won’t write much, for I shall want something to tell you when I get home. If nothin’ happens, I shall be there in July—not any before then. There ain’t no boat in here today so I won’t finish this today.
Today is Monday and the mail boat has come in but did not have any mail. She brought news that the rebel Ram Stonewall was to Havana. This rebel Ram has been a playin’g’ around here for some days. We don’t hardly know what to make of her We have got more than 20 gunboats after this old rebel Ram Stonewall. You will hear something about it in the papers before you get this.
I think the mail don’t go from here—not very often now. I don’t think that I shall write many more letters. But I don’t think that we will get home not any before our time is out. But I have wrote pretty often ever since I have been gone. Now I will hold on a spell. I did think that I would not write another letter—not until I got an answer from the letter that I wrote to you and put in 10 cents and told you that I would give 50 cents for a good fair answer from it. That I han’t got. But it ain’t hardly time. If I get it, then maybe I will write another letter before I come home.
Only 3 months—that ain’t long. I hain’t wrote a letter to no one but you in 3 months and shan’t write another while I am in the service. But I don’t say that I shan’t write to you. George asked me how Orsen’s folks got along. What could I tell him? I did tell him first rate. You did not say nothin’ about them. George is well. He works in the cook house. Nothing more today. Yours truly till death parts us. Then in heaven I hope we will meet.
You did not tell me whether you got that little box that had the knife in it or not and it had a letter in it that J. D. Smith sent to me. Nothing more. Yours truly, John Hager to Mrs. Phebe Hager, my wife.


Letter 162
Fort Jefferson Fla.
May the 19, 1865
My dear wife,
Today I got a letter from you. It found me well. Your letter was mailed April the 2nd and today is the 19th. You think we will get home in May but don’t look for that for I don’t, but we will say sometime in July. I don’t want to put it off any longer than July—that ain’t long. I hope you ain’t afraid that I will enlist before I come home. I want to be a free man once more. I will come and tell you my stories and see you and then you won’t want me to go a soldiering. Then maybe I will go. But I had rather live with you than to soldier.
But my dear I want to come home and live with you if we can agree. But you know that I han’t got nothin’ now that I can call my own. Only Phebe, and I don’t know as you will own me, but I shall you. I am in hopes if I do live to come where you are, that we both will see alike and agree and live like pigs in the clover.
There is one thing that I do hope [and that] is that you have always behaved like a lady since I have been gone and I think you have. But I would like to get an answer from one letter that I wrote to you before I get home—not because I don’t think everything is all right on your past. No, no, not at all. All my folks may say all they are aiming to about you won’t make a damn odds with me as long as I think you are all right. But my dear, I am in something of a hurry to see you. I shan’t write many more lines to you for I don’t know how long it will be before we will go from here. I don’t think that I will get an answer from this while in this fort.
A steamboat come in this morning from New York with beef. It had on 36 head of fat cattle. We was all in hopes when we see the boat come in that she had on a regiment to relieve us. That is what we want to see and I don’t know how soon.
Well, old woman, it rains here two days and I don’t more than half write so I will stop. So good day to you my dear for this time. Yours truly, — John Hager to Mrs. Phebe Hager, my wife.


Letter 163

Fort Jefferson
May the 25, 1865
Mrs. Phebe,
Today we are here yet and I think we will stay until July and then we will start, and I hope we will before that time. Some of the boys say that we will start from here in less than two weeks, but I don’t. But I am ready to go anytime. I tell them that I could pack up my things in less than 5 minutes if we was anywhere else but here we would be relieved in June. But you know it takes a good while to get a regiment here. We will be relieved by regulars when we are.
I see in the papers that they have got both the men that killed the president. I s’pose you have heard all about it.
My dear, I won’t wonder if we stayed here long enough for me to get an answer from this letter. It takes about one month if they go right along. My dear, I believe that I promised to pay you 50 cents for an answer from one letter. I han’t got it but I will send the 50 cents and then we can make all it all right, and I told you that I would send you the money and so I do. Nothing more.
George is well. He wrote to Orsen a few days ago. I hian’t had no letters in some time. The last one was from you. That is a month old. Nothin’ more so I must say goodbye to you once more.
— John Hager to Phebe Hager, my wife.
It will be in Charlie’s paper if you have got it. Well, old woman I hain’t got nothing new to write. I am well as common but last night I took 5 pills and you know I don’t feel very common today. But they done me all sorts of good. I hain’t took a bit of medicine before in 7 months. I was weighed today. I weighed 147. That is just what I weighed when I left home. You know that I wasn’t very fat then, so you see l hold my own first rate. But it don’t agree with me down here none the best. I don’t have much to do.
That rebel Ram Stonewall is tied up at Havana so that damn old thing won’t do no harm.
I shall send you a little money to buy your tea and whisky till I get home. I got 4 months pay today and I owed most all of it. But I must send a little to you. But it won’t be long until we will get paid all up. Then I shall have about 5 cents left when I get there where you are. Maybe a little more but you know I will be there when I get there just the same John that I was when I left you. But I never can stand it to work as I could when I was there, but I ain’t sorry that I come—not if I get home alive and find you all there.


Letter 164

Fort Jefferson, Florida
May the 28th 1865
Today is Sunday and I thought I would write a few lines to you. I got your letter today. You say that you are all well but you have got a sore throat. Your letter found me well, but I am in a hurry to get away. I have stayed here long enough. Some say we will go from here in less than two weeks and sone say we will stay here till August. Some say till September, but we don’t none of us know anything about when we will go.
You say the soldiers are coming home, but I don’t see any such order in the papers—only the sick in the hospital. And we take the papers—all kinds of New York papers. We get all the news every 8 to 10 to 12 days old in the room that I stop in. Whiting takes 2 New York papers. We have got as late as the 15th and today is the 28th, so you haven’t had much later news than we have got.
This paper tells all about taking old Jeff Davis. God damn his old soul to hell. He is what I call the head man for the rebs. My dear, I hain’t got nothin’ new to write for I s’pose you take…

Letter 165

Fort Jefferson Fla.
June the 5, 1865
Mr. Charley I must write a few lines to you. I am well and hope this will find you all the same. Charley, I hope you go to school this summer and Emma too. Tell her that I am a comin’ to see you now pretty soon. I have got tired of this place.
Charley, I wish I could have one good dish of your milk. I hain’t had any milk in more than one year. What do you think of this Charles? I hope you will be good to Ma and to Emma. I hope she is a good girl. Don’t forget to write.
John Hager to C. M. Hager


Letter 166

Fort Jefferson, Fla.
June 14, 1865
My dear,
Tonight I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines. I am well and hope these few lines will find you all well. I got a letter from you tonight so I write this in answer. We are here yet. This letter is the same date that the others. This I send to Almont and the other to Goodland. I see you are a looking for me but I am here yet and I don’t know when we will go from here. But I think it won’t be long. We got papers the 4th of this month. I see that the soldiers are coming home pretty fast.
Phebe, I got the other letter all wrote so I send it but I don’t know whether it is best to send the other letter. But I will send it now for I have got it wrote. You need not look for me not till the last of July—not a bit—for I shan’t be there. I have wrote in the other letter something about your coming to Oswego if we have to come there in the other letter. I can’t write much in this for it was a’most 9 when the boat come in tonight and it goes out at 7 in the morning and I go on guard at 6 in the morning so I will make a short thing of it. But when you get the other letter and this and another one from me, then you will know whether it will be best to meet me at Oswego or not. It is late but I will write again when I find out how long it will take to muster us out. Tonight, I heard that it won’t take more than 2 or 3 days. If it don’t then I don’t think that I will stay long enough to make it pay but I know you would like to go home and see your papa. No more tonight.
John Hager, to Phebe Hager
Now don’t you start on nothin’ that I have wrote yet. It is morning and the papers say the 110th will be mustered out of the United States Service here, then go to Syracuse to be mustered out of the state and will be paid in the state. I won’t send the other letter but you might stop writing. I shall get the letters sometime. Nothing more but mind what you write for I might not get them all.


Letter 167
Fort Jefferson Fla.
July the 4 1865
Mrs. John,
Today I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well. We are all here yet and I don’t know how long we will stay but I hope not long. The boys have made a good many bets on our leaving here before the 4th of July.
I hain’t much to write today. We are a goin’ to fire a musket salute of 36 guns today at 12 o’clock. We are all in better health today than we was last year but some has got the bone fever. It is pretty warm here today. We won’t leave here not before the 25th of July, if we do then. I will be glad if we get away as soon as the 25th.
We have got 2 gallons of whisky to a company today and we are all pretty well on to leave. But I hain’t drink any yet today. It is damn poor whisky and I can’t go it now how but the boys feel first rate on it. Nothing more to write today so goodbye for this time.
Yours Truly, — John Hager to Phebe Hager
The mail come in yesterday but there was none for me, but I write all the same. I have got one more envelope to send that is all that I can afford to send while I stay here on this island.


Letter 168

Fort Jefferson, Fla
July 14, 1865
Today I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am yet alive and well. I got a letter from E. T. Whitehead today. They are all alive yet. He says they have got a boy. I hain’t got time to write today. We had general inspection. You know we have to have one every month. I hope this will be the last one on this island but we can’t tell. I won’t wonder if we stayed here till our time was out.
The Orderly Sergeant of the 110th [New York] got up a petition and sent it to Governor Fenton to be relieved. It stated that we was a’most all married men and we wanted to be at home. Our officers has found out that this has been sent to the Governor and they are awful mad. They know that it is all their doings of our staying here so long. They have been a stuffing old General Newton up so he thinks that they can’t nobody do this garrison duty but the 110th.
It has been pretty healthy here this summer and at Key West. We hain’t lost but a few men this summer yet. But it is warmer here than it was last summer.
Well, my dear, you must excuse this short letter for the mail is a going out today at 12 o’clock so I hain’t time to write much. The mail ha’n’t been here before in 6 days. Don’t look for me—not until September. Our officers—you know they get big pay and they want to stay as long as they can.
Do the best that you can. Nothing more today. — John Hager to Mrs. Phebe Hager, my wife and friend.
It ain’t but 11 o’clock so I write you one word more. George is well. He got a letter from home. He told me that his wife’s health wasn’t very good.


Letter 169
Fort Jefferson, Fla.
July 23, 1865
My dear wife and friend,
Today I thought that I would write you a few lines. I am well as common myself and hope these few lines will find you all well. It is Sunday and we are here. We had a nice rain last night but it is a nice, pleasant, warm day here.
My dear, you wanted I should explain that hard letter that I wrote to you. I will do so when I get there where you be. If I have ever wrote anything that is wrong, then I am sorry. I hope you will forgive me. I won’t say a word to hurt your feelings—not for nothing. I did not think you would take it as hard or I would not of wrote you such a letter. But I don’t know hardly what I did write. I don’t remember now, but keep the letter. I want to see it and see how it does read. I know my letters ain’t worth much but you want me to write and I want to write to you. I have to write to my old woman. I can write two letters to you while I am writing one to anybody else. I don’t get many letters now—only from you. I have got two from you in two months. The last one that I wrote was wrote the 7th of July. That was a good long one. Them is the kind to send to soldiers.
This is rather a lonesome place but we can see from 3 to 4 steamboats in sight a’most every day. They are loaded with cotton. Some of them come from Texas and some from Havana. A’most everyday we are all up on top of the fort a lookin if we can see a regiment on the boats. I don’t see what the reason is that we don’t get relieved and sent home. I see in the paper that D. C. Littlejohn has been to see why we don’t get out of this place and I think we will before long.
We have got 500 prisoners here now. They are pretty sturdy boys—the most of them. They don’t try to get away now. They say that a man might as well get out of hell as to try to get away from the 110th {New York]. That is one great reason that we are kept here for we hain’t let none of the prisoners get away. But you know they can’t keep us here much longer.
Now old woman, don’t fret nor stew about me for l am the same John Hager that I was 15 years ago. I don’t think that I am any worse now than I was then. I think more of my wife today than I did the first day after we was married for I do know she is a good woman—or she was when I left you and I think you are yet. I don’t think nor don’t talk of my wife as a good many of the boys does of them. Some of the boys wives has had two young soldiers since I come a soldiering, but I don’t think no such thing of my wife. I don’t believe that she would let no man put his hand on it but J. H.
My dear, I hain’t got nothin’ to write. I don’t expect to get an answer from this letter—not while I am a soldier. I expect to get an awful whipping when I get there for writing to you as I have. You said you should of not answered my letter but I wrote another that was just as bad so you was a goin’ to give me up and let me go. But my dear, if you han’t of wrote to me, I might of not wrote again a worse one. Yours truly, John Hager to Mrs. Phebe Hager, my wife. May God bless you.


Letter 170
Fort Jefferson, Florida
July 28, 1865
My dear wife and friend,
Today I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines. I got a letter today from you. It was wrote the 11th of July. It found me well as common. I am glad to hear from you. John Calkins has got home all right. I got a letter from Chester today. He says Frank has got home….
Phebe, you see that we are here yet and I don’t think we will stay much after our time is out, the 25th of August. I shan’t be there—not till September [even] if a regiment should come today [to relieve us]. We are a lookin’ for a regiment every minute and have been for the last six weeks but it don’t get here yet. There is something wrong about our staying here so long. The men are all gettin’ mad about it and I for one don’t want to stay much longer. The war is over and I want to be at home. Just look at the 184th [New York], one year men that have got home, They got 6,000 dollars bounty and we poor devils only got 100 dollars bounty and have to stay three years and stay in the worst place that there is in the world. But that I don’t care for if they would send us home. There ain’t no sickness here nor in Key West to hinder us comin’ home now but we have got some sick ones here. William Hoose 1 is sick, He is in the hospital, He is all that is in the hospital out of our company. Sherman 2 is sick but he is around but don’t do no duty. But it is pretty healthy here now and has been for the last six months for this place.
My dear, I hope you won’t work yourself down sick. I want to see you look tough and healthy. You have been dry now 7 years and I think you had ought to look pretty tough by this time. But you may make up your mind to get fat after I get home or pretty soon after I get there. You say that your papa hain’t wrote a word to you. He hain’t to me nor Delta hain’t answered my last one but but they will answer all of the rest of the letters that they get from me or any the rest, all but my old woman. Her I shall write to if I stay till January. But I don’t think we will. The Colonel has gone to Key West. He says that we will be at home by the 25th of August. If that is so, we will have to start pretty soon. The old Colonel’s wife has got a boy. The boys all say that is what has kept us here so long, The boy is four years old, It weighed 10 pounds, They all say now when she gets able to go, then we will start but this ain’t nothin’ but soldiers’ yarns you know. You know we must all talk.
My dear, if I hain’t got nothin’ to write to you more than I have already wrote, tell the children that I will be there the first of September. That ain’t long. Today is the 28th [of July].
Well, I will put it 40 days more. The mail come in this morning at 8 and I had this all wrote but these two lines and the boat has started out again and it ain’t 9 yet so maybe I will think of somethin’ more to write after I come off from guard tomorrow. So I will stop this. From, — J. Hager
To Mrs. P. Hager, my wife.
1 William Hoose.—Age, 19 years. Enlisted, August 8, 1862, at Williamstown, to serve three years; mustered in as private, Oo. B, August 13, 1862; discharged, to date August 25, 1865.
2 Ralph Sherman—Age, 19 years. Enlisted, August 6, 1862, at Richland, to serve three years; mustered in as private, Co. B, August 13, 1862; mustered out with company, August 28, 1865, at Albany, N. Y.


Letter 171

Fort Jefferson, Fla.
August 6, 1865
My Dear Wife,
Today I thought that I would write a few lines to one that I love so well. I am here yet but we expect a boat every minute. I have lived my 3 years in the war and now I want to live to get home alive. My health is rather better now than it has been. I think now that I will get home by the 15th of September—but not much before. We hope to go to New Orleans to be mustered out of the United States service. It is 550 miles from here to New Orleans. Then we have to come right back by here to go to New York. So you see there is 1,100 miles for nothin’. I don’t see why we can’t be mustered out to New York just as well, but this is a general order from the War Department—that all troops in this department have to go to New Orleans. But I don’t see much sense of our gettin’g’ started for anyplace. We have turned over all of our things to this other regiment but our guns. Them we take to Oswego.
Today is Sunday and we went out on inspection with heavy marching orders and at 10 we had a meeting. The 161st [New York] has got a Chaplain1 so he preached to us. It is a nice warm day here today. The days seem long—long to me, and nights too, but I ain’t homesick. But I do want to get away from this place. I tell it just as it is. I want to see my old woman and children. I have been gone 3 years now and I am in a hurry to get home. But I don’t s’pose I will get there any sooner by writing to you, but I shall go when they get ready to send us.
I hope this letter won’t make you feel uneasy. It won’t be long before I will be there after you get this. We look for a boat today, but it may not get here today. But the mail goes today so I send this. Nothin’ more today, so good day my dear for this time.
John Hager to Mrs. Phebe Hager
May the almighty God be with you now and forever, amen.
Today is the 12 and I am here yet. The Colonel came from Key West last night. He says that there ain’t no boat there yet—none that is fit to go on, but he expects one every day. Nothin’ new, so goodbye. The mail goes this morning.
J. H. to P. H.
1 William E. Jones—Age, 35years. Enrolled at Baton Rouge, La., to serve three years in the 161st New York Infantry, and mustered in as chaplain, April 23, 1863; mustered out with regiment, September 20, 1865, at Fort Jefferson, Fla.


