The following letter was written by J. Alexander DeArmon (1845-1894) who enlisted at the age of 18 in Co. K, 56th North Carolina Infantry in mid-August 1863. He was sick in July 1864 and furloughed in August 1864 to return in September and rejoin his regiment. He was surrendered at Appomattox Court House on 9 April 1865.
Alexander was the son Richard Lawson DeArmon (1818-1893) and Pamela Wilson Alexander (1819-1899) of Mecklenburg county, North Carolina. After the war, in November 1866, Alexander married Sarah Jane Templeton (1839-1895).
Transcription
Camp Pleasant Hill, North Carolina November 27, 1863
Dear Aunt Sally,
I take the present opportunity of dropping you a few lines for the first time. You will have to excuse me for not writing sooner for you know that I always was lazy and it is ten times worse now and I can feel it growing on me every day. I feel better today than common because Old Jeff has give me a pair of old pants that come about to the knees and that is not all. He give me some of his old shin plasters that I suppose he had no use for. Well, I will have to quit my foolishness or you will think that I am sorter cracked and you will not think far wrong. But I don’t want you to know it.
Well we have got back to our camp at Pleasant Hill. It has been four weeks since we left here and we have been marching nearly all the time and over some of the roughest roads that I ever saw. I did not know that was such a country in this world. You just ought to come and go over the mountains and see what is in the country. If I could just get home to stay, I would never grumble at my travails. But it is hard to tell when that time will be, whether ever or not.
Well you must excuse this bad[ly] composed letter. I want you to write to me and let me know how Uncle Rankin is getting along. Well, I will close by asking you to write. Give Miss Mollie my respects and all the rest of the girls. — J. A. DeArmon
The following letter was written by Branch A. Worsham (1830-1864), a 32 year-old farmer at the time that he enlisted as a private in May 1862 to serve in Co. K, 56th North Carolina Infantry. He was wounded in the fighting at Ware Bottom Church in Virginia on 20 May 1864 and sent to a hospital in Richmond where he died on 7 June 1864. He was buried in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond.
Branch was the son of Bennet Benjamin Warsham [or Washam] (1790-1845) and Nancy B. Warsham (1803-1869) of Mecklenburg county, North Carolina. Just prior to his enlistment, Branch married Nancy A. E. Johnston (b. 1835) but it does to appear they had any children.
Transcription
Camp near Wilson, North Carolina April 7th 1864
Dear friend,
I with pleasure seat myself to drop you a few lines to inform you that I am well at this time and I hope when these few lines come to your kind hand that they may find you well and enjoying good health.
I haven’t got no news of importance to write at this time more than we are still at Wilson yet but I cannot tell you how long we will stay here. I will inform you in the first place that most all of our company is gone to carry off more prisoners again but I did not go. I don’t know what was the reason that I did not go but I am not sorry that I did not go although I would a liked very well to went, being it was coming to or near home. I tell you, it looks like our company had gone all away. I don’t think we have got more than 30 men here now. I tell you, it looks very small here now. They took off between 30 and 40 on that detail.
Well, Mr. Mack Alexander is got back here to the company but he ain’t any better than he was when he come home. I was very glad to see him but I was sorry to see him coming while his feet is in such a fix as they are. But he is not drilling today but he is very lame yet. I am sorry to see him a doing duty in the fix he is in.
Well, dear friend, I will tell you we have saw sights since I come back here but I am afraid we will see a heap worse times than we ever have saw yet. It is the opinion of everybody that there will be some hard fighting this spring but I hope it may not be the case. But I am afraid it will be the case. They say that they are looking for a big fight at Richmond again and some says it will be here and some says it will be at Petersburg but I can not say where it will be. Some think this cruel war will end this spring or summer but it is hard to tell when it will end. They are moving troops by here everyday. They say that they are taking on seven thousand onto cars every [day]. I do hope they won’t take us away from here. Well, I must stop that subject for this time.
April 14th. Well, I am well this morning and I hope you are to. Well, I must tell you we are under marching orders this morning but I can’t tell you where we will go to but they say that we are orders to Portsmouth in Virginia, but I don’t know where it is. Well, if you see my folks, tell them that we are ordered away. I hain’t got time this morning to write to them till the mail goes out. Give your father’s folks my respects. Tell them all howdy for me. Tell them to write to me. Tell Hetty Tye that I thank her for her respects that she sent to me. Tell her I would like to read a letter from her. Tell Molly howdy for me if you see her.
I will bring my letter to a close by asking you to write to me as soon as you can. Give my respects to all inquiring friends, if there be any, and receive a portion yourself. I remain your friend till death, — B. A. Worsham
The following letters were written by David “Rankin” Alexander (1834-1864), the son of James Wilson Alexander (1796-1857) and Jane Johnston (1796-1862). Rankin was married to Sarah J. Dewese.
David enlisted at the age of 27 on 16 September 1861 as a private in Co. C, 37th North Carolina Infantry until he was wounded at the 2nd Battle of Manassas on 29 August 1863 and spent the next several months recuperating at home. “The 37th NC Regiment was one of the regiments that kept pace with the ‘Foot Cavalry,’ covering more than fifty miles in two days, its fare being principally green corn gathered by the wayside. At Manassas Junction it was one of the regiments that charged Brig. Gen. George W. Taylor’s New Jersey Brigade across Bull Run Creek on August 27th, completely annihilating it. Moving back to the Junction it feasted sumptuously for several hours upon the captured stores, then took its position with Maj. Gen. Jackson’s forces behind the unfinished railroad cut to await the coming of Maj. Gen. Pope’s army. On August 28th it made its appearance and formed in three lines of battle—came on like the waves of the ocean; several well directed volleys hurled them back, but quickly reforming, they came again and again until night put an end to the terrible slaughter. This was kept up upon on August 29th and 30th; the 37th NC Regiment manfully held its position, although at times it would scarcely have a round of ammunition left to the man. Maj. Gen. A.P. Hill (VA) and Brig. Gen. Lawrence O. Branch (NC) could often be seen dismounted urging their men to hold their ground at the point of the bayonet. The loss of the 37th NC Regiment in the three (3) days’ fighting was 13 killed and 67 wounded.”
After Rankin returned to the regiment he was promoted in rank to sergeant but was killed in action on 3 May 1864 in the Wilderness.
Letter 1
[On the completion of its organization it was moved to New Bern, NC, where it received its baptism of fire on March 14, 1862, in battle at that place. Lt. Col. William M. Barbour commanded it, Col. Charles C. Lee being assigned to the command of the left wing of Brig. Gen. Lawrence O. Branch’s (NC) army. Although fighting under great disadvantage, the regiment behaved with great credit to itself and showed plainly of what material it was composed, reinforcing most beautifully Col. Reuben P. Campbell, of the 7th NC Regiment, whose lines were first broken. It is well to state in the beginning that the greater part of the regiment was composed of hardy mountaineers, as fine a looking body of men as ever marched to the tap of a drum. Outnumbered at every point, the small army of Brig. Gen. Branch was compelled to fall back to Kinston and after a short rest the 37th NC Regiment was taken to Falling Creek.]
Patriotic Stationery on David’s letter of 21 February 1862
Camp Lee New Bern, North Carolina February 21st 1862
Dear Mother,
I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well at present and hope these few lines will find you all enjoying the same blessing from the hand of Almighty God.
I have nothing of importance to write to you more than you all know. You have heard the news of the reverses our soldiers have had in the last few weeks but I hope and trust to God that it will not be so very long.
We have not seen anything of any of beings they call Yankees yet and I hope they will never come up here to attack us at this place. They talk like the Yankees would be here in a few days after we come here but I have seen nothing of them yet nor do I know whether they are any nearer to us than they were when we came down to this place.
I have written home several times and have got no answer yet. I have looked for a letter for three weeks and have looked in vain but still I have not lost all hopes of getting letters from home. I do not know whether Sarah gets my letters or not and if she writes to me, I never get them. I have thought that you might have wrote to me before this time but still I know you have a hard chance to get much time to write or do anything else while you have so much to do at home so I thought I would drop you a few lines this time and let Sarah wait until next week.
I cannot write to you all as often as I would like to do and some that asked me to write to them that I do not expect to get time to write to. Tell Margaret I think it is as little as she could do to sit down some night and drop me a few lines. I have not wrote to her I know but I do not [want] you all to wait on me for I tell you, I cannot write to every one.
Tell Calvin and Martha I have looked for a letter from them ever since I heard they were married but have looked in vain. Tell Branch Warsham and his duck to write to me and let me know how they like a married life. I want all my friends and neighbors to write to me and not look for me to write to them.
I also want to know hoe my boy is getting along and also Sarah, how she is getting along. I must close by saying to you to write by return mail. I will look for an answer from you and also from the above named persons. I remain your affectionate son, — D. R. Alexander
Letter 2
[After the Battle of Fredericksburg, the 37th North Carolina went into winter quarters at Moss Neck, about eight miles farther down the river, where it remained and did picket duty, with the other four (4) regiments of the brigade, for the remainder of the winter. David was not with his regiment, however. He was at home in Mecklenburg county, ]
[Home] February 2, 1863
Dear Brother,
With pleasure I seat myself to write you a few lines to let you know that I am still a home but expect to start to my company Thursday without I get further orders. I have been at home for four months. My arm is not sound well yet. It is still running a little yet but I have a pretty good use of it. But it is nothing like it was before I got shot by the infernal Yankees. I feel like I could shoot at them again for it makes me mad to think about them. They are so barbarous and have no respect for our southern ladies. They treat them worse than the beasts of field. I think the Almighty, maker of us all, will do what is right in His own eyes and I think he will give us success in our arms and help us to gain our independence and make us a happy people. I hope and trust that the time is not far hence when there will be an honorable peace made between the two contending parties and we will all get home to our families and fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters to live as we have done in times gone by.
I will try and write to you after I go back. Your brother, most affectionately, — David Alexander
[In a different hand]
Dear Brother, I take my pen in hand this evening to write you a few lines to let you know that we are all well at this time and hope you are enjoying the same blessing. I have nothing particular to tell you except that Henry Warsham has the small pox and nearly all the neighborhood have had a chance of them but have not taken them yet and I hope will not. Your folks are all well. May was here last night and said they had got a letter from you by Mr. Sheppard stating that you were well. George wrote to you and Calvin sometime ago and have not received an answer yet so I thought I would write again. I think I shall get one tomorrow. If I do not, I will not know what to think about it.
Well, George, all the men in this county are out hunting conscripts and deserters. They have struck up camp in Ferret Town and stay there day and night. Yet they are spending their time for nothing. I have not time to write any more at this time. Rankin expects to start back Thursday and I want to go to Pa’s tonight and it is time I was starting. So nothing more at present but remain your sister affectionately, — Sarah [Dewese] Alexander.
Write soon as you can. I want to hear from you.
Letter 3
[Home] February 3rd 1863
Dear Brother,
I will write you a few lines this morning again. We are all well and hope these few lines will find you well. I want you and Calvin to write to me after I get back to my company and I want you to write me all the news you can. I have got Mary Tye to stay with Sarah and she says for us to tell you howdy for her. We were all at father’s last night and have just got here through a snow nearly a knee deep this morning. It is beautiful overhead but is bad on the ground for poor soldiers in the army.
I think this will be a great day for those men to gather up the conscripts in Ferret town. Hope they will get the loot one of them. If they don’t, they may look out for to be disturbed some way or another. Wm. Stinson had all his bridles taken one night last week.
Nothing more at present but remain your brother affectionately, — D. R. Alexander
Letter 4
Camp Gregg, Virginia March 10th 1863
Dear Sister,
I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines in answer to the one I received from you Sabbath day and was glad to hear of you all being well. I got a letter from Calvin and George yesterday. They were both well when they wrote. I was glad to hear from them and more so to learn them both well. I looked for a letter from Gus last week but did not get any but I heard from them in your letter which amounted to the same thing as if I had got one from them but at the same time I would like to have read one from them. I have no reason to complain at all. I have nothing of interest to write to you at this time.
I am still excused from any heavy duty. I cannot use a gun yet. My arm has been worse the last three or four days but I hope it will get well some day. I think it was going on drill that made it worse, getting it mashed about by the other soldiers running against it.
I hear no war news at this time. There is talk of peace sometimes and the next thing you will hear of there is going to be a fight of the biggest kind but I see no prospect of a fight myself and I hope and trust there will be no fight here or anywhere else this year. I think if they will stop all hostilities for awhile, I think that peace will be made without any more fighting and I pray God now soon He may grant us an honorable peace and that He will send the enemy home and let us go to our homes where we can live with our families and friends and connections near and dear to each other. And my dear father and mother, it would do me much good to read a letter from you. It does me so much good to get a letter from any of you.
I suppose you have seen Thomas C. Sloan before this time for he got a furlough and started home last Thursday. I am glad that he got a chance of going home to see you all once more. And father, I want you to attend to the return of my property if I don’t get a chance to do it myself. I have nothing but my land and negro to make a return of. My buggy is not worth returning. I want you to write to me.
This leaves me well except a bad cold and I hope they will find you all enjoying good health. Nothing more at this time except it is snowing now and looks like it might continue all day. I remain your brother affectionately, — D. R. Alexander
to M. C. Dewese
Letter 5
[Home] April 13th 1863
Dear Brother,
I seat myself this morning to write you a few lines to let you know that we are all well except bad colds and that is bad enough when it takes a deep hold on a person. I have had the worst one this winter I have had for many a year. I am at home at this time and am getting along very slow. My arm hurts me when I use it very much and if I was to handle a gun, it would almost kill me. Bu I hope it will get well someday. I have a furlough from the 2nd of April to the 12th day of May and I have the privilege of getting it prolonged if my arm is not fit for use or if my health becomes impaired any way that I will not be able for duty. I got my furlough without asking for it. The doctor examined my arm and he told me that he was going to try and send me home which he succeeded in doing.
I tell you Mat Alexander is doing [ ]. She is going to work too hard this summer. I understood that some of her close kindred said they were afraid that she would hurt herself working. Well I reckon you know something about her work—how she kills herself and hands at hard work. I tell you, May is some in cane thicket the way she is getting rich is sight to everybody and that you know is she spends her money and can’t see where it goes to, I always try to get value received for my money but she does not care so she is giving it for some fool thing or other. I am sorry to think she is going to kill herself working. Why if she does that, Milas will die [illegible] without asking any questions.
We have had one week of pretty weather and I have nearly all my corn planted and Mc is planting. He is working my land and his together and works his hands and my boy together. I hope we will have pretty weather. It will be so much better on the farms and also on the poor soldiers who are defending their country’s cause. I hope the time is not far distant when we will get to hear from each other without the trouble of writing,
Your people are all well at this time and I hope should these few lines reach you, they may find you enjoying good health. May the good Lord [ ] rest upon you and all the poor soldiers who are now in the field of service. Give my respects to all the company or such of them as inquire after my welfare.
Nothing more at this time but hope to remain your brother most affectionately, — D. R. Alexander
To G. B. Dewese
Letter 6
Camp near Liberty Mills, Virginia October 6, 1863
Dear father and family,
I received your kind letter on yesterday and was glad to hear that you were all well and I hope these few lines will still find you all enjoying the same blessing. I am very glad that you have undertaken to get a [ ] a settlement of my estate and I hope everything will work [illegible]. I don’t think there will be any trouble in the settlement at all. I would be glad if I could get home to attend to it myself but things are so ordered that I can’t at this time. I hope this war will soon come to a close and then I can get home to see to my own affairs. I have hoped that way so long that it looks like I might lose hope but still I live in hope if I die in despair—I want peace, but I want it honorably or not at all. It would do us no good unless we do get it in this way. I pray the time is not far distant when we will have peace and then what a time of rejoicing there will be in this Confederacy between man and wife, parents, children, friends, and our connections near and dear to us.
I have no news of interest to write at this time, only our army is in good health and fine spirits at this time. Our regiment never has been in better health and condition since I can mind than it is at the present time.
Nothing more. Write soon. Your son, — D. R. Alexander
Dear sister Margaret, I write you a few lines. You’re excused for not writing soon a letter. I hope you will do so no more. I want you all to write as often as you can. Tell mother for her to write and tell Charley to write to me. I would like the best in the world to see you all. I have nothing to write at this time. I am well. T. C. Sloan sends you his respects. He is well and hearty and is the same Tom yet. I see no alteration on him at all. I have wrote to your father about all I can think of at this time…Keep in fine spirits and do not despair…I close and hope to remain your brother most affectionately, — D. R. Alexander
Letter 7
Camp near Liberty Mills, Virginia December 19th 1863
Dear Mother,
I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well at this time hoping should these few lines will find you all well and in good health. I have not much of interest to write at this time except we have cold wet weather out here and a heap of it and we have to go on picket every two days and we have guard duty to do every day and it makes no difference how bad the weather is—we have to stand guard.
I want more provision from home if I can get it and I want you and my neighbors to send me something every chance you have and I don’t want you to think that I am begging but anything from [home] takes so well. Give my love to all the children and tell Margaret that I think she might have written to me before this time but I will excuse her as she has so many young men to write to that she can’t have time to write to me very well. That is alright. I think among you I ought to get one letter every month. I have looked for a letter from some of you but have not got any from you for some time. I want you all to write to me and give me all the news in the neighborhood.
I would have liked to been at home to seen Calvin and George but I could not be there and here both, but I hope the time is not far distant when we will all get home to enjoy ourselves once more in this world. And if we should never meet on this earth anymore, my prayer is that we all may meet in heaven where peace will forever dwell in our hearts and men will learn war no more. Tell Martha Ann that I have not forgotten her yet. Tell her that I have so many to write to that I can’t write to all of my friends as often as I would like to do.
I would like to see you all and talk with you all. Tell the little boys all for me to be good boys and pray for me while I am out here fighting for them and pray not only for me, but for all of the poor soldiers. Tell them that I think of them every day. I have nothing more at this time but I hope to remain your son-in-law most affectionately, — D. R. Alexander
T. C. [Sloan] is well and hearty at this time. He says he has not forgotten you yet.
Letter 8
Camp near Liberty Mills April 6th 1864
Dear Sister,
I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well at this time, hoping for you the same good blessing from the hands of Him that giveth and never tires when we receive His gifts in the right kind of a manner.
I have nothing of interest to write at this time. The health of our company is very good at this time. All the men that are present are able for duty and that is something very rare in the army. We have 49 men present and all able for to do their duty. I hate that I have neglected writing to you for so long but I hope you will pardon me. I think you are a reasonable being and will not think hard of me in my neglects. I was sorry to hear of John being so sick but was glad to hear of him being able to ride to my house. I hope he is well by this time and all the rest for you have had a serious bout of sickness this winter. I believe all have been sick from the oldest to the youngest.
I am not in the habit of writing tales on my fellow soldiers but I think I must relate one this time on my friend Robert Deaton. 1 As you know, I am a great friend of his. He tried to play off with pains in his legs and loin joints but they would not swell for him and the doctor could not see anything wrong with him and they preferred charges against him ad had him courtmartialed for trying to play off and his sentence is to dig stumps three hours every day for a month. He wants to put in another summer campaign at the hospital. He likes that place better than to be with the company and do his duty like a soldier. In short, he is no account nor never will be.
Tell all the family that I am well and want all that can write to write to me and give me all the news. Give my respects to all who may ask after me. I am in hopes this war will come to a close someday. If it don’t, it will be the first one. But I hope it will be soon. I see in the papers taken from a Northern paper that we can hold Richmond while we have fifty thousand men to fight. But still their great Gen. Grant says he intends to take it and end the war. But that will not make the rebels, as they call us, stop. No indeed. I fear they will have a hard fight and lose a great many men before they get that place they call the rebel capitol. They are as tired of the war as we are, but they don’t want to give up yet. I want to have peace and if they will let me alone, I will assure them I will let them alone. But they must not tramp [on] my toes if they don’t want hurt.
Tell Pa and Mother to write to me and write yourself. T. C. Sloan sends you his respects but he’s lost all hopes of getting home this spring. Give me all the news from Old Mecklenburg. Nothing more at this time as my letter is very uninteresting anyway. I remain your brother-in-law, — D. R. Alexander
1 James Robert Deaton (1840-19xx) was 20 years old when he enlisted on 16 September 1861 as a private in Co. C, 37th North Carolina Infantry. It appears he was captured and took the Oath of Allegiance in Washington D. C. in September 1862 but was exchanged and returned to his regiment. He was absent without leave for a while but returned in February 1863. He deserted to the enemy on 30 November 1864 and went to Bartholomew county, Maryland, to wait out the war.
This letter was written by Richard Johnston Stough (1844-1926) who enlisted at the age of 18 on 28 July 1862 as a private in Co. K, 56th North Carolina Infantry. He was promoted to corporal in September 1863 and was with his regiment near New Bern when he participated in the 2nd Battle of Gum Swamp in May 1863. In this engagement, the 25th NC Regiment and the 56th NC Regiment were surprised and virtually surrounded by five Union regiments at Gum Swamp (Jones County); they were forced to fight their way out or flee into the swamp. More than 160 men of the 56th NC Regiment were captured but apparently Richard “took to the swamp through the mud and briars” and escaped.
Richard was taken prisoner of war on 25 March 1865 in the fight at Fort Stedman, Virginia, and was confined at Point Lookout, Maryland, until he took the Oath of Allegiance on 20 June 1865.
Richard wrote the letter to George B. Dewese (1843-1864), the son of John Allison Dewese (1811-1870) and Mary Ann Sloan (1819-1911) of Mecklenburg, North Carolina. George enlisted on 28 July 1862 at the age of 19 in Co. K, 56th North Carolina Infantry. He was absent sick from his company for two or three months in the spring of 1863 but was otherwise on duty until he was killed in the Battle of Globe Tavern (or 2nd Battle of Weldon Railroad) fought on 21 August 1864 south of Petersburg, Virginia.
Transcription
[Approximately 1 June 1863]
Gum Swamp satisfied my curiosity. I shot 4 times at the Yankees and missed every time I think. One thing I know, they—the Yankees—came in very close proximity to me. They seemed to be blind. I took the swamp through the mud and briars without thinking what was before, always looking behind.
George, give my respects to all that wants and accept a double portion yourself. Goodbye. Yours truly, — R. J. Stough
The following letter was written by Andrew (“Andy”) Green Barnett (1843-1917) of Mecklenburg county who enlisted as a private on 25 October 1862 in Co. K, 56th North Carolina Infantry. He was wounded on 30 May 1864 and hospitalized in Richmond, Virginia. He was furloughed in September and returned to service in January, 1865. In March of 1865 he was taken prisoner and held at Point Lookout, MD until the war’s end, taking the Oath of Allegiance on June 23, 1865. [His obituary published in the Charlotte Observer on 19 January 1917 says he was imprisoned on Hart’s Island in New York.]
After he returned home from the war, Andy married Martha McClure (1843-1916) and the couple had at least nine children. He died on 15 January 1917 and was buried in Davidson, Mecklenburg county, N. C.
Andy wrote the letter to Margaret C. Dewese (1841-1910) who also lived in Mecklenburg county. She was the daughter of John Allison Dewese (1811-1870) and Mary Ann Sloan (1819-1911).
Transcription
Randolph City, North Carolina January 14th 1864
Miss M. Dewese,
Dear friend, I seat myself to write you a few lines to inform you that I am well and hope these few lines may reach you and find you in the same good blessing. I have been having a right fine Christmas here along of the Randolph girls but I would rather been in Old Mecklenburg to a taken Christmas with them that I know. I have been at two parties here, then dined at both places. We had a fine large time of it and I hope you had a fine time with the old men and boys for they ain’t any other sort there to take Christmas with but.
[It looks like] we will have to set in for a New Year. I think they had better all quit and go home and mind their own business. I hain’t got anything to do but write letters or read the ones I get from the girls—that is more satisfaction.
This is a fine, wet day and we are all sitting up indoors. The boys is well and hearty and we are cooking or eating pickled beef.
Well, Miss M., I have not got anything of interest to write that you will [have] seen by perusing the [ ] but I hope it will find you with some important news so you won’t be like me at a loss to know what to write. I am getting along fine here and I hope they will keep us at this business till the war comes to a close. Write soon and give me the news to a close, if you please, and I will try to think of more next time. Give my compliments to all the girls that think worthy of asking but don’t let no one see it. I have been looking for letters from the girls and I begin to think I wouldn’t get any and I thought I would write a few and see if you all had forgotten me. So I must close by asking you to write soon and give me the news in full.
Direct your letter to me as before. But you know all that. So I remain your esteemed friend while I am, — A. G. Barnett
Believed to be Zachariah and William H. H. Holland of Co. E, 56th N. C. Infantry
The following letter was written by Pvt. William Smith (1836-1864) of Mecklenburg county who enlisted in April 1862 to serve in Co. K, 56th North Carolina Infantry. William was taken prisoner on 22 May 1863 in the 2nd Battle of Gum Swamp. In this engagement, the 25th NC Regiment and the 56th NC Regiment were surprised and virtually surrounded by five Union regiments at Gum Swamp (Jones County); they were forced to fight their way out or flee into the swamp. More than 160 men of the 56th NC Regiment were captured. William was held at New Bern until he was paroled and eventually returned to his regiment.
In late August, William was sent to a hospital suffering from an illness and he died on 3 October 1864.
William wrote this letter to Margaret C. Dewese (1841-1910) who also lived in Mecklenburg county. She was the daughter of John Allison Dewese (1811-1870) and Mary Ann Sloan (1819-1911).
Transcription
[Camp near Weldon Railroad] April 3rd [1864]
Dear Miss,
I take my pen in hand to write you a line to let you know how I am getting along. I am well and in fine spirits and I hope these lines will find you enjoying the same great blessing. I thought when I promised to write to you that I would a written before this time. I just thought to write when I see Calvin [Dewese] a writing & thought I would write a line and put in his letter. 1
I have no news of importance to write at present. The company is generally well. John Sloan was taken to the hospital yesterday. I and several others had the same chance to catch them that he had. We may take them yet but I hope not. We have not fared well ever since we came back to the company in the way of rations. We have nothing to do but drill and I hope that we will never have any fighting to do more than we have had to do so far.
George [Dewese] has been on guard at the bridge ever since Wednesday and I hain’t seen nor heard from him since but he is well or he would a been back to the company. We have a good many April fools. It seems like Christmas to see the boys a carrying on a playing off on one another. Mr. Carrigan gets a letter a most every evening and don’t know where they come from and we have him a running to the quartermaster after a blanket or to draw a pair of shoes and he comes back without any. Then we have the laugh. They hain’t fooled me yet but I expect to ketch one in a letter this week. But if I do, someone will have to look out for a dismule [?].
I will bring my uninteresting letter to a close by requesting a line from your hand. The world is wide and the sea is deep, and I would like to be near a nuff to hear you cheep. Goodbye, — William T. Smith
The following letter was written by Robert A. Nelson of Mecklenburg county who was a 31 year-old farmer when he enlisted in September 1861 to serve in Co. H, 35th North Carolina Infantry. He was discharged for disability in mid-June 1862 but apparently regained his health and reenlisted in the same company in late March 1863.
Muster rolls indicate that he was absent from the regiment in November 1864 for wounds.
Robert wrote this letter to Margaret C. Dewese (1841-1910) who also lived in Mecklenburg county. She was the daughter of John Allison Dewese (1811-1870) and Mary Ann Sloan (1819-1911).
I could not find an image of Robert but here’s one of Stanhope Washington Alexander who also served in Co. H, 35th North Carolina Infantry. He enlisted on 26 October 1864 in Mecklenburg County. He appears to be holding an Enfield Rifle and an 1861 sack coat style of Confederate uniform.
Transcription
Weldon, North Carolina October 25, 1863
Miss Margaret Dewese,
I will rop you a few lines to inform you that I hadn’t forgotten you yet. I am in common health at the present time, hoping these few lines will find you and all the rest enjoying good health.
I haven’t got no news of importance to write at the present. The health of the army is good as far as I know. We have been lying here a resting for the last month. I don’t know how long we will stay here. It is reported that we will go west before long. Our camp is in fifty yards of the 56th [North Carolina]. I would be glad to see them get back for I want to hear what for times they have had.
Some grand rascal stole James Chill’s tent last night. Cousin Berry made a search for it this morning, Didn’t get it.
I have wrote to Davey and Liz both but got no answer yet. I would like to hear how they are getting along and also how Alford Markham has got [along]. I would like to hear from you all if the times are as hard as they are here. I think the Confederacy is about broke. It is as much as [broke for] we can’t get enough to eat and they give us cloth shoes to wear, and don’t know what will turn up next for to wear. It looks hard to see how soldiers is treated and so many speculators at home a living at their ease.
Give my best respects to all enquiring friends, if there should be any such—the girls in particular. So nothing more at the present. Only remain your absent friend until death. Write soon, — R. A. Nelson
Isabella and her brother Hamill holding one of his daughters, Africa
The following letter was written by Isabella (“Bella”) A. Nassau (1829-1906), the daughter of Rev. Charles William Nassau (1804-1878) and Hannah McClintock Hamill (1807-1878) of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Bella wrote the letter to her younger brother, Rev. Robert Hamill Nassau (1835-1921), an American presbyterian missionary who spent forty years in Africa. Bella eventually joined her brother as a missionary in Africa.
Born in Newtown Square, Pennsylvania, Nassau was an ordained minister and a medical doctor. Appointed in 1861 to Presbyterian mission on Corisco Island off the coast of present day at Equatorial Guinea, he and his wife, Mary Cloyd Latta served there and at Benita until her death on Corisco in 1870. They had three sons William Latta, George Paull and Charles Francis His second wife was Mary Brunette Foster (died 1884), with whom he had a daughter Mary Brunette Foster.
Transcription
Home July 28, 1863
My dear, dear Hamill & Mary,
You would be surprised to hear how naturally & familiarly these two names are linked to our home circle. Your letter dated May 25th was received July 24th. It found us all well, though at this sitting our sweet Tillie is slightly indisposed; a bilious attack incident to the season; she will be well in a few days we expect.
Today I have been in Trenton with sister, Charlie, & Mrs. Gasman. The chief object of their going was to see Mr. Gasman [ ] so they were passing down to Bridgton in company with Mr. John Gasman who still enjoys his celibacy; in a few weeks they hope to visit Mr. Gasman & see their little “Jennie;” who is a little fair thing, a gentle little girl 7 months old.
But I must condense more in my letter, I presume, and we will go back to your letter received in June, dated April 17th. As is often the case (this month is no exception), your letter came the day after ours to you was mailed. You are indeed a kind dear brother to give so much of your time to writing to me—always so much gratified and interested; but does it task you too much? Surely there has meaning in the advice that your friend Mr. Pierce gave you on the subject; Still I do not believe it is anything but recreation for you; to write these interesting letters to home friends. Month after month we go treading with you over the house and grounds & the last letter with the accompanying diagram makes it so, all so vivid. There is one part of your good kind letter that I anticipated & almost dreaded; you would send me a welcome to the missionary house perhaps thinking me on my way thither; while stranger to tell, it seems I may not go. I cannot give up hope as I intimated in my last letter; the Board have no opportunities of sending such as me now, even if I were ready to go. So I fondly hope that Pa’s judgment on my health may accord with the physician’s and I be pronounced able to go when an opportunity offers of going.
My health is so good generally that I had not thought it needful to ask medical advise on that subject relative to my going; but as Pa especially is more & more decided that I could not bear a life in Africa, it seems my duty to forbear any further preparations. Sister Mary need not fear that I would allow myself to be long detained in making preparations; I had commenced doing so & Mrs. Ogden kindly gave me the benefit of her experience, and many thanks to you, my dear Brother, for your letter of advice on the subject of “what to bring.” I felt sadly the need of some advice on the subject & may yet avail myself of it.
We feel sadly to think how few is your number now. Now while the [ ] is growing in interest & the blessed cause is expanding. Oh! my heart is deeply moved at the fear & doubts & misgivings of many of God’s people. Who see signs of decline in the work of missions; I wish I had tongue or pen that could convince them of the truth, & [ ] them in their work. I cannot, ought not be silent.
My own dear Brother, how kind in you to collect so many interesting & beautiful shells & preparations for us! It has been a task of so much pleasure to unpack, to cleanse and arrange on our cabinets the various articles; the arrangement is not yet completed. We have his cabinet in the Reading room off from the back parlor. It is light colored, uniform, with the bookcases of the Sapphie Union & looks very nicely. I must acknowledge that the shells & [ ] are more interesting than the Iguanas to look at. Still we prize the “Lizards.” How perfectly beautiful some of the shells are! And so many of them! We were thankful that they all carried so well. Sister Lusie says that some of these articles were broken; nothing in our box or barrel was broken though the bottle of Pitanga did leak out and cause the writing on this paper to become somewhat illegible & we cannot tell for whom it was intended though the name & that of Mrs. McQueens, who preserved them, are legible. We think ourselves quite fortunate that things carried so well. We have not eaten many of the preserves yet.
Your memoranda of articles for household also must be noticed next, I am glad to do anything of the kind for you; and on the 20th of this month we (. e.) Letitia, Mrs. Gasman, & I went to the City & made our purchases. I must particularize. [list of purchases follows]
I think you were will not fail to like the “Monitor,” it is called; resembling the “Eagle” pattern which the man remembered perfectly, having sent it rather packed for Mrs. Mackey. He said he had so many things for them. Amongst them a photograph of a young gentleman who was in the army; it must have been Mary’s brother. We have had the store packed & sent to New York yet, as it is not desirable to have it lying so long, & Mr. Rankin promises to take it in time. We could go to the City in the early line, and the box could be packed & sent on in the evening. We will try to think of everything belonging to a store which you would deem desirable.
Sister Mrs. Wells has left in our care to be packed two chairs of the camp that fold up very conveniently. Mrs. Gasman an arm chair; also camp style. We have the [ ] which you ordered some time ago, but which there has been no opportunity to send. Will enclose it with other valuables in the box…
There has been some dark days as well as cheering news in regard to our country since I wrote. Little had we ever thought that Gettysburg would become the marked town that History will make it. The demand for hospital supplies was so very great & so immediate after the battle that many places furnished boxes within a few hours notice. One day the High School made up two and Letitia & ourselves one large box which was presented to Baltimore, whither the sick & wounded of Gettysburg were carried. The Monday following the Battle of Gettysburg was a dark day in the history of Philadelphia & adjoining towns. People yielded to fear, but an Almighty hand was outstretched for our relief & now we see more clearly than ever through the [ ] clouds; see that God is moving in His own mysterious way.
I suppose you will see in papers the death of our friend Dr. Tremans during this month. Do you remember Mrs. Sampson, Lydia Green, the doctor’s daughter? She died very unexpectedly while in Washington, leaving one child. Tillie Green is failing rapidly. All her friends see it but she will not permit any remarks to be made on the subject. It is very sad…
From your sister Bella
Pray for me dear ones! that I may know & do the will of God! I know He is guiding me.
2nd Lt. H. Heber Woodruff, 16th Michigan. CDV by Raymond & Allen, Detroit, Michigan (Dale Niesen Collection)
The following letter was written by 2nd Lieutenant Henry Heber Woodruff (1841-1916) of Co. D, 16th Michigan Infantry to his Uncle Benjamin Hall of Gibraltar, Michigan. Part of the Woodruff family had moved north to East Saginaw, Michigan sometime before the war. The letter talks of life in Gibraltar and the surrounding communities of Brownstown Township, Michigan. Heber goes on to detail his experiences during the Battle of Fredericksburg and camp life, etc. He also mentions another famous local soldier, Michael Vreeland of the 4th Michigan Infantry, who was wounded four times and left for dead in the Wheatfield, during the Battle of Gettysburg. Other soldiers are mentioned as well, in particular is his father, Captain Henry Woodruff, 23rd Michigan Infantry.
Heber was the son of Henry Heber Woodruff (1813-1897) and Abigail Hall (1815-1892).
[This letter and image of Woodruff are from the collection of Dale Niesen and were made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Camp of the 16th Michigan near Fredericksburg, Virginia (Archives of Michigan)
Transcription
Camp Near Potomac Creek, Va February 20th 1863
Dear Uncle & Aunt,
You have doubtless concluded that I have forgotten you entirely on account of my never having written to you but I can assure you, it is not so. I have thought of you often, but being rather careless have neglected to do as I should for which I beg pardon. Of course you have heard of my welfare through uncle Edmund Wesley and others so that anything I will be likely to tell you will be but stale news. Still, by writing, I am in hopes to hear from you by way of return.
I am ashamed to say that I know nothing of you and the family, never hearing but once since I enlisted of you, and then only a word in one of Wesley’s letters. I suppose though you are at the same old trade, farming it in your old dilapidated town. I suppose nothing has been changed and nothing changes except what has been caused by “Death” & “Marriage.” The same old houses stand in the same condition. Old Gentleman Alfred lounges about as usual telling his yarns. John Gori will still find things where they are not lost. “Darkey” Green 1 still cracks his whips over 4 yoke of oxen. John Van Riper is still an old “Bach.” And lastly, John Miller owns “Whip Tiger”—or is it all changed? Who is married? Who is dead? I can hardly realize that I ever lived there. It seems a dream. I almost think I am in a dream and will wake up sometime and find myself back in the old “Kimble House.” Ugh! I guess not—[I’d] rather be a soldier all my life.
Perhaps you wonder how I like a soldiers life. How I stand it, &c. Well, it agrees with me. My health never was better, notwithstanding “rheumatism and cramps” attendants to exposure. Do I like it? Yes. while the war lasts. No, in time of peace. Very little comfort and pleasure is there in it but any amount of privations. Hunger, thirst, weariness, exposure to wet, cold, and bullets, lack of society of the right kind, no females to refine, no one to nurse you, to speak a kind word if you are sick, nothing but military law which obliges an inferior to be an absolute slave to a superior, no one but rough men—who you must hold with a tight rein or lose your discipline—to associate with, which makes you as rough as they. What are the deductions to be drawn? Simply old men or men with families stay at home. Oblige every young man to come. Young men can stand it—old ones ought not [come] if they can [avoid it].
What do you think of lying 36 hours on your back on the ground, not a thing under you, and the ground as wet as water can make it? The weather next thing to freezing? Our Brigade had to do it at the Battle of Fredericksburg. All a man had to do if he wanted a bullet was to raise up, He got it quick enough. Well, we were relieved and had a rest of twelve hours sleeping on a brick pavement with nothing but an overcoat to cover me.
What then? Why our Brigade “had the honor” to be chosen, tired as we were, to cover the retreat from the town. So under cover of the darkness, we silently moved out to the front where the famous Irish Brigade had been driven in and more than slaughtered to reconnoiter. Whenever the moon came out from the clouds, we would lie down so as not to be seen and when some unfortunate fellow would rattle his tin pail, curses not loud but deep would go up. Well, there we lay half the night watching the dead so think we could hardly tell the living from the dead.
At three o’clock we silently withdrew to the edge of the town. By this time the rain had begun to pour down. Then we stood three hours as motionless as statues [at the] ready, a line of skirmishers just in advance to give us warning. We stood until broad daylight until the last man was over and then we turned and took a double quick and crossed the [one] remaining pontoon bridge, taking it up as we crossed. You may think this fun but it is terrible on the constitution. I do not tell you this intending to make great pretensions of my endurance for I could tell of greater hardships than these, but to give you some little idea of a solder’s life.
Hooker is working hard to make the army efficient. I hope he will succeed but one thing is certain, we cannot move in a month—the mud is horrible. It rains and snows all the time. We can move in March [but] not before. I see Michael Vreeland almost every day. He is in the same division. He is a good soldier and a good officer. Cyrus I have never seen. He is with Sigel somewhere near Stafford Court House. Father is still at Bowling Green. I hope they will stay there.
Give my respects to all friends and remember me as your affectionate nephew, — H. Heber Woodruff
to Benjamin Hall, Gibralter, Wayne county, Michigan
These images were found on Ancestry.com and were identified as Abigail (Hall) Woodruff (1815-1892) and Henry Heber Woodruff (1841-1916).
1 “Darkey” Green was probably Dennis Green (1799-Aft1870), a Black farmer born in Maryland. He married his wife Tabitha Cyrus in 1831 in Columbiana, Ohio. She was born in Virginia. Their children in 1860 ranged from age 10 to 28, all born in Ohio or Michigan.
The following was written by Dr. William John Cavanaugh (1874-1949), the son of John M. Cavanaugh (1840-1895) and Anna Fryer (1843-1907). William’s father, John, was a veteran of the Civil War, having enlisted in September 1861 as a private in Co. F, 43rd New York Volunteers. John was promoted to 1st Sergeant of Co, B in July 1862 and commissioned a 1st Lieutenant on 2 June 1863. He was with his regiment until he was severely wounded in the fighting at the Wilderness on 4 May 1864 and underwent a leg amputation to save his life.
What is most revealing in William’s letter is the considerable pain and suffering that his father endured for thirty years after the Civil War ended. The amputation of his leg certainly saved his life but it condemned him to a life that scarred him deeply—physically, socially, and emotionally.
Lt. John M. Cavanaugh; the cdv at left was taken in Albany while he was home on furlough before the start of the Spring Campaign in 1864. The cdv at right was taken in Albany a year or two later. (Kevin Canberg Collection)
After his discharge, John married the younger sister of another officer in the 43rd NYVI named John Fryer; Fryer and Cavanaugh were friends who worked together on the railroad prior to the Civil War. Fryer himself was killed shortly before Cavanaugh was seriously wounded. They are all buried together in the same grave at a cemetery in the Albany area.
It isn’t clear who the document was addressed to. It was part of a massive grouping Kevin Canberg acquired several years ago related to Fryer, Cavanaugh, and the 43rd New York. The statement that he was “temperate” with no bad habits” suggests to me that it was intended for a Widow’s Pension application but I could not find one in the National Archives.
Transcription
Meigs Case, the surgeon who performed the amputation of Cavanaugh’s leg.
The amputation of the leg was not the cause of death. The result of the amputation on the nervous system after a few years of dragging an artificial leg about, the shock of the severed nerves and arteries, seem to be [the cause]. For several years the abrasions of the skin and flesh with resulting boils and ulcers: Then paroxysms of stinging pain where the scars of the stitches were would throw the man in a fever and would last from one to five minutes, with about the same time of relief. During the time these pains lasted he could not sleep only when after a while he became exhausted he would drop asleep a minute sometimes. The doctors said they could give something to deaden the pain but under the conditions, were afraid it would form a habit and could not cure.
In ’86, he had a serious abscess on the stump which extended almost into his bowels. Was confined to his bed for six weeks suffering terribly. He became greatly emaciated and for the greater portion of his time his life was despaired of. But his good constitution brought him through. After this sickness he never regained his former health. His nerves were very bad and he was excitable. His heart troubled him. He did not get out very much and his stump troubled him more than ever. The kidney trouble was quite advanced when it was first diagnosed and his face bloated some. It was said by the doctors that the kidney disease was brought on by the state of his system and the nervous condition he was in from the access which was the result of the amputation of leg. He was temperate, with no bad habits.
Spared & Shared 23 