The following letter was written by Major Henry Bloomfield McIlvaine (1828-1883) of the 5th New York Heavy Artillery. Henry enlisted on 2 December 1861 at New York City as a 1st Lieutenant in Co. A, 5th New York Heavy Artillery and was promoted to Major in March 1862. He was married to Margaret (“Maggie’) J. Mitchell (1840-1920).

Henry wrote this letter from Harpers Ferry, Virginia, some three weeks prior to the Stonewall Jackson’s attack on the town during the Maryland Campaign. At the time, Henry was serving as Chief of Artillery and clearly overconfident in his assessment of their readiness to defend the strategically important town. “I do not think that the enemy can ever get here, or anywhere near it,” he wrote his wife. The town and Union garrison of 13,000 men were surrendered to Stonewall Jackson on 15 September 1862—the largest single Union surrender of the war.

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Headquarters, Harpers Ferry, Va.
August 21st 1862

My dear precious Maggie,

Your letter of 17th came yesterday. I am well. Glad to hear that both you and Angie are so. Can write you but a few lines today. Nothing new here. Enjoy myself as much as can be expected without you and baby. The flowers were lovely. I wrote you yesterday sending you $20, picture and a curiosity. Many things of small interest occur every day but I forget them. Every night and day, you are in my mind. When night comes, I lie awake for hours thinking of you. Go to sleep—dream you are in my arms. Awake to find the old pillow next my face & my arm around it. I think you will have to hide little Mag when I get near for I shall eat her up. God is truly good to us all. We should not murmur against anything. Certainly everything has been for our good so far. You may rest assured that just so soon as I can retire from the army without discredit, shall do so. I certainly expect to pass the most of this winter at home, but if necessary for all soldiers to stay, shall do only my duty.

The dust here is immense. Want rain badly. Had a letter from the Bishop. Send me Mr. Cox’s address at Cincinnati if you know. Love to all. Goodbye. Will write you more soon.

Am at work placing another two gun battery on the Shenandoah River defending the arsenal, the ford, railroad & road. Have 30 contrabands & 5 whites at work. Time of peace, make ready for war. I do not think that the enemy can ever get here, or anywhere near it.

Kiss our child 100 times for me. Give my particular love to your mother.

There is some excitement almost every day about the country with strolling bands of guerrillas. If you think of me as much as I do of you, you do well. I love you just as must or more than ever and as to our Mag—Why Golly!! could eat her.

Yours with much love, — H

P. S. Have had to write at railroad speed. Thought this better than none to you.

The following letters were written by John W. Oliver (1842-1895), the son of William Oliver (1815-1886) and Elizabeth Clute (1820-1888) of Union Church, Albany county, New York.

When he was 19 years old, John enlisted at Albany as private in Co. D, 113th New York Infantry on August 18, 1862, to serve three years. Before the end of 1862, the regiment had been reorganized as the 7th New York Heavy Artillery and garrisoned at Fort Kearney near Washington D. C. When the regiment was taken to the front and used as infantrymen in the spring of 1864, John was captured on June 16, 1864, at Petersburg, Va.; held at Andersonville prison for several months; paroled, December 6, 1864, at Charleston, S. C; returned to duty, April 5, 1865; promoted corporal, May 25, 1865; reduced, date not stated; mustered out with detachment June 16, 1865, at Fort Federal Hill, Baltimore, Md.

After the war, John married Mary E. Cady (1846-1881) and resided in Watervliet, Albany county, New York.

[Note: Three of the letters presented here are from the collection of Richard Weiner and were transcribed and published by express consent on Spared & Shared.]

Letter 1

Fort Kearney
Tuesday, February 3rd 1863

Dear Parents and Brother,

I now take the opportunity to answer your letter that I received yesterday. It found us all well and I hope this will find you the same. I received your letter with the postage stamps. The one had six in it and this last letter had 3 in so it is all right.

You wanted Uncle Richard. Did you mean James’ father? He sent some smoking tobacco but if you can send me a pound of chewing tobacco, put it up and send it by mail. I have no tobacco or no money to buy it. We have not been paid yet and I don’t see as we are a going to get any pay. All the rest of the regiments in this brigade have been paid but us and I think they are afraid to pay us off for they think there is a god many that will skedaddle and run away after they get paid off. And they say we have not been mustered in the United States service. If it is so, there is a great many that won’t be mustered in the service adn I don’t know as there is any that will muster in.

You said you hoped we would stay at this place. I think we will stay here this winter at least and then perhaps we will go to North Carolina. That is the talk some around camp. I hope it will come to a close soon so that we can come home.

Oh, how is Uncle Coon’s folks getting along? I have not heard you say anything about them. And what is John Jo a doing? Is he home now? You must tell him I have not had an answer from the letter I sent to him yet.

Brother, you must write every week and I will answer it if I can. No more at this time. Give my respects to all. Tell Grammy that I am well and send my respects. Write soon as you get this. From your son and brother, — John W. Oliver

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Letter 2

Fort Kearney
Sunday, February 22nd, 1863

Dear Parents and Brother,

I now take my pen in hand to inform you that we are all well and I hope this will find you the same. I received your letter in due time but have neglected to answer it until now.

James and me and Sergeant [Edward S.] Burbanks that is our 2nd Sergeant went down to Washington a Tuesday and it snowed all day but we went down with the stage as far as Georgetown. It cost 25 cents to ride down in the stage and 5 cents apiece to ride from Georgetown to Washington in the cars and ride right to the Capitol. We was all through the Capitol. It is splendid. It is worth going to see. The Albany Capitol is no beginning to it. It is all marble floors, steps, and all, and the gallery is all marble and pictures and images of all kinds most, and I think I saw Van Allen. Wasn’t he elected for Member of Assembly from Albany. And Corning’s name was called but I did not see him.

Well, we had a pretty good time [even] if it did snow, and we had a good dinner once. It was an oyster stew that was bully.

You wanted to know if we ever got the 7 dollars that I spoke about. No, we did not. We got the $2 hard money but the $5 we did not get nor I don’t expect we will get it. I do not know how much bounty money I did get. I spent nearly $20 before we left Albany and I had $50 paid to me after we came down here and I sent $25 of it home and kept the rest. And there is 18 dollars of my Allotment to the Chamberlin’s office for you to draw. We have been paid two months pay. Keep it all if it is enough to pay you what I owe you. If that is not enough, then take the rest out next pay day.

It is a snowing again today. There has fell about 6 or 8 inches of snow today. It does not look like the Sunny South today. There is too much snow.

Oh, tell Warren that he must come down and enlist or come down here and work. I think if ever I live to get home again and be free from a soldier again, I would come down here and live so well I like it. Did you get the picture I sent? My stamps are all gone. I will have to borrow one for this letter. Please write again soon. From your affectionate son, — John W. Oliver

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Letter 3

[Note: The following letter was found in an antique store at Chickamauga, Georgia by Marilyn J, McCartney.]

Fort K[e]arney
Washington D. C.
June 25th 1863

Dear Parents,

I now take my pen in hand to inform you that I am well and I hope this will find you the same. I received your letter yesterday, June 24th, and was glad to hear from you. How does things go up North now? Have they got the corn all hoed up yet? They are a hoeing corn down here and some a drawing in hay. How is the grass this year up there? It is not much here. How is the bees getting along? Have they swarmed yet? And how many swarms did you winter?

How is my dog Rover? Pat him for me and tell him to be a good boy.

Robert, how do you get along drumming? Can you drum any tune yet? You ought to have your drum major to learn you. He is a bully drummer. We have as good a drum corps as is in the army. We have a bully little drummer in our company.

Mother, I suppose you will be home by the time this reaches its destination. I hope you have had a good time or visit rather. Did you go to Uncle John’s? What for a woman is she, do you think? I would think enough of her to call her Aunt. That is all. Tell Mrs. Cole that I answered her letter as soon as I got it. Did you get the papers I sent? No more at present. I remain your affectionate son, — John W. Oliver

To his parents.

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Letter 4

Fort Kearney
Washington D. C.
February 24th 1864

Dear Parents,

I received your letter last week but have not had much time to write since until this morning. It found us all well and I hope this will find you all the same. I and James [Vanderbilt] was away Sunday all day down to Chain Bridge and Monday was Washington’s Birthday so we did not have any drill and we went down to the Potomac. We came home in time for dress parade and yesterday Corporal McCullic [McCollock], William J. Stalker and me went down to Washington after two of the boys that went off day before yesterday without permission and was not back yesterday morning when we started.

You spoke about writing two letters to my one. I have answered every letter you sent. Then you could not have got my one letter. And about Rachel Oliver, I sent the last letter to her. Oh, tell Rob I have not seen that picture yet. That one he sent was not the genuine article. Then they are all a selling out around there? Tell Father he must sell out and move to Albany or come down to New Jersey. I don’t intend to live up there anymore, if I had my discharge tomorrow.

Give my respects to all enquiring friends. No more at present. From your son, — John W. Oliver

Give the song to Robert. Cut it off.

The following letter was written by 20 year-old James V. Vanderbilt of Co. D, 7th New York Heavy Artillery. James enlisted as a private in Co. D (originally the 113th New York Infantry) on 18 August 1862 to serve three years. At the time of his enlistment, his residence was given as Corymans, New York. He was described as a blue-eyed, dark-haired farmer who stood 5 foot 6 inches in height. He was promoted to corporal on 1 March 1863 and again to sergeant on 29 December 1863.

The letter was written from Ft. Kearny just outside Washington, D.C. during the early, passive phase of the regiment’s service, while they were part of the D. C. defensive ring. However, beginning mid-way through 1864, the unit was sent to the front as infantrymen and were heavily involved in battles, with much loss. James was killed in action on 3 June 1864 at the Battle of Cold Harbor, Virginia.

During the action on Petersburg on 16 June 1864, James’ cousin, John W. Oliver—who served with him in the regiment, was captured and sent to Andersonville prison, where he stayed until being paroled on 12/6/64. He is listed as having ‘returned’ to his unit on 4/8/65.

[Note: This letter is from the private collection of Richard Weiner and was transcribed ands published on Spared & Shared by express consent.]

Transcription

Fort Kearney
December 30th 1862

To Uncle & Aunt, Cousin, and Libbie too.

I now take the opportunity to write or scribble you a few lines. The reason why I have not written before was because [Cousin] John [Oliver] wrote for him & me too & I the same when I write home. But I am the feller that can do it and in a hurry too for I have to write many a one. Well, it is a good thing to have so many friends. We are all enjoying good health at present except John. He has a boil on his upper lip and it puts me in [mind] of some of those negroes down here and the reason he was not with Mr. Hayes & I building out house was because he was not well just thern. He had the ganders [jaundice]. But he is now well and at work. He did not have it but slightly.

He has been digging rifle pits & I have been washing and cleaning my gun. It takes us half our time or more to keep them in order as the Colonel wants them. This week we have all to go to headquarters on inspection and muster for our pay. Every two months [they] inspect all that Uncle Sam gave us. We have not been paid off yet and I cannot say for my part when we will get it. But never ind, good things come slow.

You spoke about that money John signed off. You cannot get it until we get paid here. When we get paid, we will let you know. Then go and try him. Some think it was a smart game but I think that it is alright.

We have our house done and are living like pigs in the clover and have bunks & floor and roof & window & stove. I tell you, we live good. Sometimes we have cabbage soup [or] stewed apples. If we only have money, we can live good as any of them. But we are close up for money. I never see a Christmas before but what I had 3 cents to my name. We did not have much Christmas but I hope we will have a better time—at least I hope so. You wished us a merry Christmas. Thank you. [We] wish you a merry one [too]. We wish you a happy new year.

We are now a Heavy Artillery [regiment] and the boys are all satisfied. We will not have to go in the field or have to march far at a time now. We will have to have other clothes. I have a new coat with red trimming. When you write, you must direct to the 7th New York Heavy Artillery, N. Y. S. Vol.,, Co. D, Washington D. C., Fort Kearney

From your nephew, — James V. Vanderbilt

Our respects to all enquiring friends. Goodbye. Remember us in your prayers. I hope to meet you all again if not in this world, in the world to come. Tell the rest to direct the same.