The following letter was written by James J. Martin (b. 1838), the son of Robert Thompson Martin (1790-1857) and Patsy Hall (1804-1880) of James City, Virginia. James served in Andrew J. Jones’ Company, Virginia Heavy Artillery, also known as the Pamunkey Artillery. This regiment was organized in May 1861 with men from New Kent county. James was mustered into the company on 3 June 1861. At that time, he was described as a 5 foot, 9 inch tall, light haired, 23 year-old farmer.
The Pamunkey Light Artillery were attached to the Department of Richmond and first served at West Point but later relocated to Chaffin’s Bluff to protect the approach to Richmond by Union gunboats coming up the James River. This point of the river was not heavily fortified until May 1862 during McClellan’s Peninsula Campaign. The company began as a Light Artillery but later changed to Heavy Artillery, manning fixed batteries on the James river.
James’ muster roll records indicate that he was with his company through December 1864. It appears that he was wounded on 5 January 1865 and that he deserted from the hospital in February. After the war, in December 1870, he married Mary Frances Curle (b. 1846) of New Kent Court House. She was the daughter of William Graves Curle (1808-1867) and Sarah Frances Tyree (1826-1860). Whether Mary F. Curle was the cousin to whom he addressed the following letter is unknown as he only refers to her as “cousin.”
James’ letter, written in the evening of May 9th 1862, informs us that artillery fire was heard. This may very well have been connected with the Union assault on and fall of Norfolk which resulted in the Confederates destroying the CSS Virginia (formerly the USS Merrimack), and the opening of the James River to Union gunboats. In fact, just days later, on 15 May 1862, Union gunboats led by the USS Monitor attempted to get to Richmond by maneuvering up the James river but were stopped by Confederate batteries at Drewry’s Bluff and Chaffin’s Bluff, within a mile of each other on opposite sides of the river.
A soldier’s sketch gives a view of Confederate fortifications at Chaffin’s Bluff on the James River, about a mile downriver from Drewry’s Bluff. Chaffin’s Bluff represented the forward outpost of the James River Squadron’s defense of the Confederate capital at Richmond, and this drawing, possibly the work of Sergeant John A. Bland of the 34th Virginia Infantry, shows a wooden gunboat, artillery emplacements, and, overlooking it all, the Confederate Second National Flag. The James River Squadron faced Union forces in this winding section of the river for the last year of the war in a standoff that mirrored the one between Union general Ulysses S. Grant and Confederate general Robert E. Lee at Petersburg. Probably drawn in 1864.[Museum of the Confederacy]
Transcription
Camp Chaffin’s Bluff May 9th 1862
Dear Cousin,
I received your kind letter this morning and was much pleased to hear from you once more. This leaves me quite well at present and I hope those few lines may find you the same. Dear cousin, I have received one letter this week from a certain young girl. It may be more than possible that you may know who she is. I think from what she writes that she is kind & set back a little. Dear cousin, you seemed to think that I were trifling with you from the way you wrote. But believe me, dearest, that this world and all that is in it could not make me do that. No never. Such a sweet and charming young lady as I think you are. I think if there is a lady in this world that I could be happy with, it certainly would be you.
You said in your letter that my self and a certain young lady was engaged to be married. I beg to say that you are wrong informed. And if you say the word, it never shall be. No, not so long as I could make such an exchange as that.
Dear cousin, as I am now writing, me thinks that I can see your sweet angelic form before my eyes and oh for the world that it was so. Oh! how much happiness I would feel than I do at this lonely hour. But I am glad to think that there is something to cheer a poor soldier up for a soldier’s life is a bad one. Make the best of it you can, dear cousin.
As I am now writing, I can hear the cannon roaring and me thinks that I can hear small arms too but I hope, dear cousin, that you will not be disturbed by them for I am in hopes that the Yankees will not get to Richmond. As it is getting late, I must close this badly written letter by saying that you must excuse bad writing and mistakes. And believe me to be as ever your true admirer and well wisher, — James J. Martin
The following letter was written by 1st Lt. James Berry Jordan (1837-1899), a Confederate Prisoner of War (POW) at Johnson’s Island near Sandusky, Ohio. Jordan was a resident of Wake county, North Carolina, when he enlisted in late May 1861 as a 1st Lieutenant in Co, D, 26th North Carolina Infantry. With his excellent handwriting, he was soon after given the Adjutant’s job in the regiment. He was wounded in the hip at the Battle of Gettysburg and was taken prisoner. He was first sent to David’s Island and then in mid-September 1863 sent to Johnson’s Island which he humorously called his “Island Home” after 18 months of captivity there.
A week after this letter was written, Jordan went sent to Point Lookout, Maryland, and then to Ft. Delaware where he was released on 12 June 1865.
Jordan wrote the letter to Martha (“Mattie’) Elizabeth Fearn (1845-1936) with whom he would marry on 26 September 1866. Mattie lived with her parents, Samuel and Elizabeth (Owen) Fearn in Milton, Trimble county, Kentucky.
Note: “James Berry Jordan,” born 8 June 1838 is the way his name appears in the family bible.
Transcription
Island Home Sunday, [March] 12th 1865
My dear little cousin,
I had set apart this day to write to my brother, but will let him wait till Wednesday now and answer your very curious letter of the 38th ult. In the first place, I did not request Lieut. V. L. write you. Of course I didn’t—it was some other officer gentleman. As to objections, well, I do not seriously object provided you think you can write to us, but without any great inconveniences to yourself. But I greatly fear you will weary your little self too much, But if either is to be dropped, it must be him, and not I.
Now to satisfy your very natural curiosity. I think he is a foreigner, or at any rate, he has a very foreign look—especially out of one eye. He hails from Georgia. I am very much opposed to your making any inquiries from anyone in regard to myself. I promise you to answer any and all questions you may think proper to ask me and to satisfy your curiosity still further, I will state for your satisfaction that I am “Nu joven de large stato” and will send my photo, or do anything you wish if you will not enquire of Lieut. V.
Oh Mattie, I can’t write tonight. Everybody has gone wild upon the exchange question in our room. We have 35 men representing all of the Confederate States and all talking at once. Everyone seems to think they will start tomorrow. Everything else is forgotten in the excitement. I do readily believe I shall get off. I shipped that “ballad” several days ago but did not send the “air” as I did not know the name of it. I will try and get it yet unless I do leave.
Write to me quick for fear I get off before your letter arrives. The jewelry shall not be forgotten. Your devoted cousin, — James B. Jordan
I will write again as soon as the exchange fever has gone down.
The following letter was penned by Augustus Caesar Hoke (1825-1910), the son of John Henry Hoke (1796-1876) and Anna Margaret Byers (1801-1857) of Greencastle, Franklin county, Pennsylvania. Augustus—a farmer by occupation—was married to Rachel Lucinda Stamy (1830-1893) in 1850 and soon after relocated to Seneca county, Ohio, where he spent the remainder of his days.
Augustus actually wrote the letter for his illiterate friend, John Young—a 21 year-old black man, also from Greencastle, Pennsylvania. John Young was the son of Eli Young and Mary Simpson, both most likely former slaves born and raised in Maryland. Greencastle is located a few miles south of Chambersburg on the Mason Dixon line. There were a large number of free blacks living in the county by the time of the Civil War but it was still a very dangerous place for blacks to live in the 1840s for fear of being captured and sold into slavery even though they may have been free. Certainly in the mid 1840s, it would not have been without risk for a black man to travel from Pennsylvania to western Illinois by way of an Ohio and Mississippi steamboat without being accompanied by a white man who might be assumed to be his owner.
We learn from the letter that Augustus and John had traveled to Cherry Grove, Carroll county, Illinois, by steamboat. Mt. Carroll is just a few miles east of Savannah, the Mississippi river port where the young men would have entered Illinois. They were living with Daniel Arnold (1798-1857), a former resident of Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. Daniel and his wife, Betty Price, came to Cherry Grove (northeast of Mount Carroll) in June 1840, purchasing a 240 acre tract of land. Daniel was a community leader and a forceful minister in the Dunkard (German Baptist Brethren) Church. It isn’t clear from the letter what employment Augustus and John were engaged in though it may have been related to transporting mail.
Transcription
Cherry Grove [Illinois] May 31st 1846
Dear Sister,
I received your letter May 24th 1846 and was pleased to hear from you all that you were all well at present. I am living with Mr. [Daniel] Arnold from Chambersburg and gets $10.50 per month for three months. We were about two weeks too late to get big wages. Some men get $12 per month. We have to stay till July 14th, then our time will be up. We will not leave this till some time in August (towards the last of it). Hoke has been at me to go with him to Texas when we leave here but I cannot promise him. He said if I go, he will but I think I will come home sure this fall in time to attend singing the succeeding winter. If I come, he says he thinks he will unless he can get some other company to go to Texas. He appears to talk of nothing but traveling.
We have both been very healthy since we left home with the exception of a few days which we did not just feel so well. The camp meeting girl says she will not have the beau she had last year. Perhaps she may find a better one. If I could be at camp meeting, I should be with some of them Pennsylvania gals. A. Hoke and I goes partners in everything and in squeezing the gals. We have been taking sets with some of those Illinois gals since we have been here. There is some fine gals here. I must stop about gals. We must have one apiece tonight sure.
I am sorry that you were uneasy about us before we wrote home. We were so well contented on the boat that the time passed round so quick we did not think of writing. But I will continue to let you hear from us regularly from this till I leave for home—that is about three months yet. I intend coming to Cincinnati by water and then travel through Ohio by land. Perhaps I will buy a horse. If I do, I will come the whole way by land.
We have preaching here and singing all in the forenoon and singing in the afternoon. But I say three cheers for Old Pennsylvania gals forever. We are very well pleased with the country and the people that are in it [ink spill obliterates handwriting]…well, but there will not [illegible]…Corn is short yet but it has not been planted more than three weeks. Wheat is selling here for 40 cents per bushel, corn 16 cents per bushel, oats 16 cents per bushel, potatoes 12,50 cents.
The Dunkers have a big meeting at West Grove today but Hoke and I did not take the time to go to it. (I upset the ink after Hoke had wrote the letter but you can read it.) It is 35 miles from where we work. We could have had went in a wagon but we would have lost Saturday and Monday so we did not go. We have been buggying in 2-horse wagons to Mt. Carroll, preaching after night on Sunday evenings, gals and all in the wagons. Each man must hold his girl from falling although the road is smooth—or at least each has his army around the gal’s waist.
On the boats we lived first rate, $1 per day, & roast beef and turkey. We weighed when we landed in Mt. Carroll. Hoke weighed 198 pounds. I weighed 156 pounds. We are the same Old Coons yet and tell Will [that] we have both got our flannel pants and roundabout. He said we would come home with so we have made preparations.
My love to Father, Mother, brothers and sisters. I send nothing more but I remain your brother till death, — John Young
Dear Miss Mary, I write to you for John. He is present and tells me what to write. John & I are together every Sunday and gets along very well among all the Ladies & Gentlemen. And next Sunday we have preaching and singing where if you come to preaching and singing, you will find us if we are well. My love to you, your family, and all the Ladies and Gentlemen. Nothing more but remain your friend & well wisher. — Augustus Hoke
Thomas and Madlain (McCullough) DeWitt, circa 1880
The following letter was written by Thomas Buffington Dewitt (1832-1891) of the Missouri Home Guard Infantry who had just been sworn in that day. The letter discusses the current state of the war in Missouri and a growing sense of alarm. John C. Porter’s band of Guerrilla’s had organized in northern Missouri in the early summer and had been raiding trains, stealing horses, and food from the citizens, occasionally skirmishing with state troops, leading to concern about their farms and livelihood. He states that they are able to stay at home most of the time.
Thomas wrote the letter from Milan, some twenty miles due west of Kirksville in northern Missouri. He was married to Madlain McCullough (1841-1927) after his first wife, Frances Carney (1833-1859) died in 1859. His parents were Thomas DeWitt (1791-1879) and Mary Magdalene Buffington (1797-1886) of Wheeling, West Virginia. By 1880, DeWitt had relocated to Polk, Adair county, Missouri. By 1886 they were living in Fresno county, California.
Transcription
Milan, [Sullivan county, Missouri] August 10, 1862
Dear Mother and Father,
I take this opportunity of informing you that I am well at present and hope these few lines may find you in good health. I have just read a letter from Henry to Beck which informed me of your being well, which I was glad to hear.
We are all in the [Missouri] State [Militia]Service here. I was sworn in this day. The secesh is gathering up in companies all over the state and stealing horses, doing devilment generally. We are going to stop them. The people is more alarmed about the war now than they ever have been. For my part, I think it has just commenced. Madlane is taking on about me going into the militia, but can’t help it. I was bound to go. They say we can stay at home the most of the time.
Henry wants to know what is the least money I will take for my place. Tell him to sell it for the most he can get. I will be satisfied with a low price. Take five hundred if you can’t get no more. If I had the money, I could double it every year. I have just sold forty-five head of steers for $22 per head that cost me $10 last fall. I have a lot of two-year-olds on hand now and going to buy more this week. I. Larkins wants me to pick him out a situation. I don’t know what kind of place he wants— for to sell goods, or [to] farm. If he wants either, he can find them here. Pork is selling good. They sell goods very high, and [it’s a] good place for farming.
Tell John that I would like to have him come out here. Any man can do well here that will try. I have talked of coming home this fall but now the Union Army belongs to me and I expect I can’t come home. I have got but one letter this summer from home. I must close. Give my [respects] to all my friends. Write soon. Tell me all about what is doing there. No more at present, but remain your affectionate son, T. B. DeWitt
The following letter was written by Benjamin Lewis Hall (1838-1931), the son of Pardon Bowen Hall (1793-1872) and Abby Billings (1802-1895) of Providence, Rhode Island. Benjamin was married to Emeline Carr in 1860.
In April 1861, Benjamin was working as a jeweler in Providence when he enlisted as a drummer boy in Co. A, 1st Rhode Island Regiment, and mustered out as a sergeant on 2 August 1861. He reenlisted on 13 December 1861 as a sergeant in Co. E, 5th Rhode Island and resigned his commission as Captain of Co. I on 5 May 1863.
In his letter, Benjamin informs his brother that he has survived the battle that resulted in the capture of New Bern, North Carolina, in March 1862. Though the 5th Rhode Island was not in the vanguard of the attacking column, he gives a lively portrayal of the march to and capture of the city.
[This letter is from the private collection of Rob Grandchamp and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
Union troops landing to begin their march on New Bern in March 1862
Transcription
Camp Pierce near Newbern, North Carolina March 18th 1862
Dear Brother,
I received a letter from you yesterday and one from Emma the day before. Your letter wsa mailed March 10th and hers March 1st. I was very glad to hear from you as I had just passed through another battle. Come out all right and it made me feel happy to hear from home so soon after so much fatigue and danger. You don’t know how it makes a man feel when he gets out of a fight where his comrades are falling around him and when it may be his turn to fall in the next minute. It makes him think of home and friends and all that is dear to him, and his first thought after the battle is whether they think him among the poor fellows that have fallen, and he sits down to write “home” to let them know that he is safe and waits oh how anxiously for an answer, and is worried until he gets it. And then the thoughts of his messmates who are gone come back to him and for 3 or 4 days after a battle a soldier’s life is a sorry one. But soon the constant change which we have in this Expedition gradually changes his thoughts and he is soon busy thinking of what is going on around him and only when the roll is called and the names of the unfortunate ones are omitted does he for a moment recall the scenes of “the fight” and the many “good times” where the missing ones took part.
But enough of the melancholy. Our fleet (with a few exceptions) left Roanoke on the 11th and sailed to Hatteras where they lay all night. Next day we started up the sound in the direction of Newbern and came to anchor on the night of the 12th. Next day landed in boats, or rather ran up as far as we could and jumped out and waded ashore, formed in line and started for the Rebels wherever we could find them. We landed 16 miles below Newbern and it commenced raining as soon as we touched shore—“our usual luck.” Had to march through mud up to our knees all day, lay down in the woods all night, the rain coming down in torrents. 1
The next morning were up early in line. Pretty soon—pop, pop—went our pickets, then a roll of musketry, and soon the “band whooooo” of the big guns and shell told us that we had treed the varmint. Pretty soon orders came along, “Forward, double quick!” and engage the enemy. Up we go through swamp and woods, wet through to the skin, never mind boys, we have got a chance to pay the villains for making us march through the mud, “Give it to ’em lively boys!” over the batteries, rifle pits, breastworks, “Hurrah! There they go boys! There they run” and tell the old story, “Ribbils Licked.”
The Battle of New Bern, March 1862
They left as fast as they could on the railroad to Newbern, burning the bridge as they crossed over, some taking another road had to strip and swim the river, and I visited the city yesterday and the old “mokes” 2 say they went through the town like sheep, some without any clothes at all on their back, in such a hurry to get away from the “Damn Yankees” as the old “dark” said. Two or three days before these same fellows had been swaggering about town telling that we could shy around with our boats but wait till they caught us on land and they would teach us a lesson.
I was talking with an old Nig about his “massa.” He said that “Massa” told him he would whip us like dogs, but when he come running back, the “nig” said “Massa. where am de Yankees?” And “Massa” said, “Twant no use, if we get them blood hounds after us we might as well give up. It is said that some of the prisoners which were let go at Roanoke are here but I don’t know how true it is. I do not know how many men we have lost. You will probably learn by the papers. We took a large number of guns—some of them very pretty brass pieces.
The Rebels set the town on fire when they passed through but our troops were following so close behind them that they put it out before much damage was done. Some of our troops are quartered in houses in the town but there is not a great many white people there of the inhabitants. “Dead heaps” of niggers loafing around. It is just like June here—peach trees in bloom, grass all green, and roses and lilies all in bloom. I will send some roses which I got in the city of Newbern. Give some to Emeline, one to Mother. I sent Emeline’s letter 3 days ago by the boat that took dispatches. Tell her to write soon as she gets it and don’t forget to do the same yourself. Give my respects to all hands. Tell them I am all “right side up with care” and oblige your loving brother, — Benjamin
P. S. I write this letter not knowing when I shall get a chance to send it. I am told that we shall go to Beaufort, North Carolina, tomorrow and if we do, make up your mind that Beaufort is ours. Write soon and tell all the rest to do the same. This paper is some that I got in the Rebel camp. Flies bother us a little. — Ben
1 The regimental history informs us that, “Here, as at Roanoke Island, the water along shore was very shallow, and many of the men were compelled to leave the boats and wade to firm land; and, here as there, no sooner had the debarkation fairly commenced than rain began to fall again. Wet as the men were not time was lost at the landing, but as fast as they came ashore the line of march was at once taken up, with a skirmish line from the 24th Massachusetts well in advance. Under the effect of the marching men in front, the roads soon became almost impassable for those who followed, the sticky mud adhering to their feet and lower clothing at every step until they often became so heavy that the tired men could scarcely lift them. The time spent in landing and a march of about twelve miles over such terrible roads used up the whole day, and a half-rain, half-drizzle of the most aggravating character fell nearly all of the time. [p. 31]
2 Mokes (or Mooks) is a racial slur for negro, in common use in the 19th Century.
The shell jacket of William D. Thompson of Co. I, 3rd Missouri Cavalry. William ran away from home at the age of 16 and joined the 3rd Missouri in Palmyra in December 1861. He fought to defend Springfield on January 8, 1863, and was one of 180 men from the 3rd Missouri Cavalry involved in the Battle of Hartville. He was wounded in the groin at Hartville on January 11, 1863, and spent time in the post hospital at Lebanon, Missouri.
The following letter was written by James A. Humphres (1839-1863) began his service in Co. B, 3rd Missouri Cavalry, as a private but was later promoted to Commissary Sergeant of Co. H. According to the company rolls, James died on January 31, 1863 from a gunshot wound received during the Battle of Hartville on January 11, 1863. James was taken to the hospital at Lebanon, Missouri, where he died and was initially buried.
Though James served the State of Missouri in the war, he was actually a resident of Ashmore, Coles county, Illinois. James was the son of John Humphres (1803-1867) and Sarah Mitchell (1814-1849) of Ashmore. In the 1860 US Census, he was enumerated as a 21 year-old laborer in the household of Peter Conkler in Ashmore.
The letter was addressed to James’ cousins, Sarah Ellen Mitchell (1842-1879) and Phoebe Ann Mitchell (1844-1909), the daughters of John Bruce Mitchell (1817-1849) and Martha Cutler (1818-1882) of Ashmore township, Coles county, Illinois. For those who are unfamiliar with Ashmore, it is located just a few miles north of where Thomas Lincoln, the President’s father, had his farm when he died in 1851. Abe’s step-mother, Sarah Bush Lincoln, still lived in Coles county throughout the Civil War and died there in 1869.
It is with pleasure that I seat myself to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well at the present time, hoping these few lines may find you all well. I received your letter the other day & was glad to hear from you & to hear that you was all well.
Col. Albert Sigel, 13th MO State Militia Cavalry
There was a skirmish near here yesterday. [Joseph Chrisman] Porter‘s force started from northeast, Missouri, with one thousand men. He still had a thousand when he crossed the Missouri River. He was attacked four times before he got down here. We’d heard of him & started 200 men after him. Before we got there, he was gone. He had so far the start of us [that] we could not overtake him. Colonel [Albert] Sigel’s Cavalry had attacked him when he got down here. He had only two hundred men. Sigel’s Cavalry killed 50 of them. They are still in pursuit of them. Our boys all returned to camp this evening. Sigel’s got three men wounded and nearly one killed. The rebels loss was 50 killed. I don’t know how many wounded. That is the last account of them.
The 13th Missouri Cavalry—that is Sigel’s Cavalry—captured a very large silk flag. It was about 5 feet in length. The colors was red, white, and red, & quite a number of horses [captured]. 1 No more at present. I will tell you more about it the next time.
Give my respects to all. Yours truly. Goodbye. Hoping to hear from you soon. — J. A. Humphries
to Miss Sarah E. & Poebe Ann Mitchell
Please excuse this big ugly writing for it was done in a hurry & the boys was bothering me so I couldn’t write.
1 The action described by Humphreys is verified in a report by Colonel Albert Sigel, colonel of the 13th Missouri state militia cavalry, which appears in the Official Records of the War of the Rebellion, Series 1, Volume 13, (skirmish at California house). Albert Sigel (1827-1884) was the brother of Gen. Franz Sigel (1824-1902).
The following letter was written by William W. Moore of Randolph, Cattaraugus county, New York, who enlisted on 17 August 1861 as a private in Co. F, 64th New York Infantry. He was promoted a corporal in April 1863 and wounded in action at the Battle of Gettysburg on 2 July 1863. He mustered out at Petersburg, Virginia, on 9 September 1864.
William wrote the letter to his cousin, Dwight Moore (1841-1864) who enlisted August 1862 in Co. H, 154th New York Infantry, was taken prisoner at Gettysburg on 1 July 1863, and who died in Libby Prison.
Transcription
The patriotic header on Moore’s stationery
Headquarters 64th [New York] Regiment Camp at Fair Oaks June 15th 1862
Cousin Dwight,
Sir, I received your letter today and proceed at once to answer it. You wanted me to give my experience in the late fight. Being a poor hand at writing anything, I will write a few lines hoping you will excuse my mistakes.
A Union soldier holding an Austrian Lorenz Rifle
Our regiment was ordered in at seven in the morning where we were engaged two and a half hours. Our regiment fought well and was highly complimented by General [Oliver O.] Howard who I am sorry to say lost his arm in the engagement after having his horse killed under him. Our brigade fought nobly with the exception of the 61st [New York] commanded by Colonel [Francis C.] Barlow. His men broke and run some, clear back across the Chickahominy. There was only two killed in our company.
There was not one of us that expected that morning to go in any fight until the balls began to whistle. The fight was entirely in the woods. We crept along until we could see them. Then we sent in the balls so thick that they had to retreat. The 64th has the best rifles in the field. They are the Austrian Rifles—a very short gun but good.
Our regiment lost 180 men killed and wounded. The 5th New Hampshire Volunteers fired a whole volley into us doing more damage than all the rebs done. 1
Write soon. We are ordered to fall in. — W. Moore
[to] D. M.
1On page 84 of Pride and Travis’s book, “My Brave Boys, to War with Colonel Cross & the Fighting Fifth,” the authors describe the attack made by the Fifth New Hampshire and the trouble that Captain Barton was having to keep his company in line as they tried to maneuver through “a dense swamp, mud, vines, and underbrush.” When they did fire a volley, “its target proved to be not the enemy but members of the 64th New York, another regiment in the brigade.”
The following letters were written by Pvt. Richard Whitfield Jones (1839-1916) who enlisted in April 1861 to serve in Co. D, 1st Virginia Artillery (“Richmond Howitzers”). Later in the war he was a commissary sergeant. Richard brought his enslaved servant Grandison with him to the front and often used him, when not far from Richmond, to hand carry his letters home. In one letter that he penned to his mother shortly after the victory at Gaines Mill, Richard wrote that, “If my boy Grandison delivers this this evening, you will please give him something to eat, and let him stay all night. He is a good boy and has been with me for the last 5 months.”
Letter 1
Darbytown Road July 3rd 1862
My dear mother,
I have an opportunity of again dropping you a few lines by my old friend Plummer Payard. By him I send you a piece of oil cloth from which I wish you to make me a haversack as soon as you can. Enclosed you will find some pieces of poetry taken by me from the haversack of a Yankee officer on Monday. I send more to show you the fine hand writing than anything else.
Everything is very quiet today. We have only 29 cannoneers for duty, most of the men being sick, brought on by the want of something to eat. You can see a great change in all of the men—likewise in me—having been so long with nothing to eat but hard crackers. However, I am by no means sick—only weak.
Your bundle and note came to hand last night. I was very much obliged to you for the eatables. They were certainly enjoyed by the mess for supper last night, that being all we had. We drew rations of bread and shoulder today, and will I hope get along a little better now.
As Plummer is ready to go, I must now close. Have you heard anything from Dick? I understand the loss in the 12th Regiment was pretty heavy. I hope he got out all safe. Major John S. Walker 1 is reported killed. I only hope tis not so. If it is, his loss will be deeply felt both by his command, the church, and the community at large.
Give my best love to all. In haste, Your devoted son, — Richard
Major John Stewart Walker
1 Major John Stewart Walker (1827-1862) was the son of David and Amanda Norvell Walker. His father was a Scottish immigrant of the Brook Hill Stewarts. John was educated at Washington College and Harvard. His twenty-first birthday extravaganza at Harvard was so costly, that when his Uncle-guardian received the bill, he pulled John from school and brought him home. John was employed in the family tobacco business, married his second cousin, Lucy, and bought a place in Richmond. He developed his own brand of tobacco, the award winning Queen Bee. The Virginia Life Guard was organized in the City of Richmond in January of 1861. On May 14, 1861 it became Company B of the 15th Virginia Infantry under then Captain, John Stewart Walker. At the Battle of Malvern Hill, Colonel Thomas August, was severely wounded. The command of the Regiment was assumed by Major Walker. He led the command in an advance against “murderous and withering fire of grape, canister musket balls.” It decimated the ranks. Pinned to ground, with light fading, Major Walker stood and commanded “Forward charge!” He was immediately struck down and dragged back into a little creek. He soon died in the arms of his brother.
Letter 2
Frederick City, Maryland Sept. 9th, 1862
My Dear Mother,
You will see from heading that I have at last reached the state of “My Maryland.” I wrote you a letter on last Saturday when I stated that we expected to leave Sunday at 1 o’clock, but we did not get off until 5. I and one other was detailed from our company to form an advance guard together with two men from each of the other companies—making the party 8 men and a lieutenant. We moved on some distance in the head of the column, mounted, & with sabre & pistol, proceeded to see that the way was clear as we had neither infantry or cavalry with us. We reached the Potomac at 8 ½ o’clock and I was the first of the party to put foot on the soil of Maryland.
We forded the river at Cheek’s Ford. 1 Having reached the Maryland side, we proceeded along the tow path of the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal about a mile when we crossed and took the road to the above place. After moving on this road about 3 ½ miles, we went back to report to Col. Brown that the way so far was clear. Here we met couriers from General [Stonewall] Jackson who informed us there was no danger ahead. After reporting, we were again ordered to the front to keep well ahead and a good look out. So we again led the way. Reached a small village of about 800 inhabitants called Buckeystown at day break on Monday, arriving after traveling all night. Here we again halted, waiting for the batteries to close up, when the command halted and went into camp for the purpose of feeding and resting the horses which by this time were pretty well worn out.
Again, at 11 o’clock, we moved on after a rest of 4 hours (this time without an advance, having infantry along) halting about 2 ½ miles from Frederick where it is likely we will remain for 2 or 3 days to rest the horses. This county (Frederick) is a very fine one, said to be the finest in the State—inhabited principally as far as we have gone, by Dutch, who seem to be a very kind and nice people, generally wealthy with fine farms, large and fine crops. The country is a rolling one, the sod very rich and heavy. The farmers live in small houses generally built of stone—neat, but plain and small, while their barns are large, fancy, and very fine. Their stock is good.
The city of Frederick is larger than Petersburg, the houses generally very fine. In this place two companies of cavalry and a regiment of infantry have been raised since [General] Jackson reached it last Friday, though only about half of the population are loyal to the South. Here we can buy—and have bought—coffee at 25 cents, sugar at 90, and other things at moderate prices. I wish there was some way that I could send you a supply, also some dry goods which are very cheap. How long it will be so, I cannot say. The citizens of Baltimore on last Friday formed themselves, took up arms, and on Saturday drove the Federal soldiers there out of the place, telegraphing to [General] Jackson to hurry on as soon as possible.
Last night it was reported that our cavalry at Poolesville, 10 miles from here, had a fight and been driven out of the place. No one was killed on our side—only 2 or 3 wounded [and] several horses killed. This is only rumor and no faith is put in it. What point our Generals intend making for, it is not known, but Channing Price, 2 who staid with us last night, said he thought from what he heard that we would move down to the Relay House, though it is not known. As there is no railroad communication to this point, I expect it will be difficult for a letter to reach you or me, though hope if you have a way to send one you will drop me a line or so. I send this through the Provost Marshal who has opportunities of sending them by couriers to points where they can be delivered. Give my love to all at home, and believe me, your devoted son, — Richard
I could not find an image of Park but here is one of John K. Messmore of Co. D, 99th OVI
The following letters were written by Park Henry Fryer (1840-1864) who enlisted in August 1862 in Co. B, 99th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI). The first two letters were written while convalescing in Hospital No. 2 in New Albany, Indiana.
He was a sergeant by the time he sat down to write his brother later from the rifle pits outside of Chattanooga, Tennessee, in October 1863—some three weeks after the Battle of Chickamauga. In the aforementioned battle, the 99th engaged the enemy both days and had five men, including two officers, killed, twenty-eight men wounded, and an additional twenty-four men captured. Following this Union defeat, the 99th retreated to Chattanooga with the rest of the Northern army. At Chattanooga, the 99th became part of the 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, 4th Corps.
Park did not survive the war. He died in a Chattanooga hospital from wounds received in the Atlanta Campaign. His date of death was given as 3 July 1864. It should be noted that his surname is given in the company roster as “Fryar.”
Park wrote the letters to his younger brother Samuel Lewis Fryer (1842-1920) of Spencerville, Allen county, Ohio. When Park and Samuel were quite young, they came to Allen county, Ohio, from Chester county, Pennsylvania, with their parents, Isaac H. Fryer (1813-1867) and Mary Brown (1815-1893).
The first two letters were sent to me by Patrick Leary after seeing what is now Letter 3 that I posted on Spared & Shared earlier. In sending them to me, he wrote the following:
“Forty-odd years ago, when I was working at a secondhand bookshop in Houston, the bookshop owner bought a batch of Civil War soldier letters that included several letters by Park Henry Fryer, Jerry Downs, and others. The owner was going to put all of the soldier letters out for individual sale (at $10 apiece!), but she agreed to let me first do a brief catalog of some of them, for which I transcribed excerpts and did background research among the regimental histories at Rice University’s Fondren Library. Ultimately all but two of the letters sold as a lot to the same collector and I have no idea what became of them afterward. Those two letters I was allowed to keep as “payment” for doing the catalog, and they’ve moved house with me ever since. I went on to become a historian in a small way (now retired, but keeping my hand in) but have never thought much more about this old letter project until I was going through some files this weekend and realized that I needed to share them with a specialist like you. For more than one reason I am grateful to have stumbled upon Spared & Shared. I’m attaching the Fryer portion of that little catalog. As you’ll see from the intro and these excerpts, what was unusual about these letters was that most of them were from, and between, members of his family, which of course yields an important perspective on his experience. I’m also including a photocopy of the letter dated July 6, 1863 and my transcription of it. I don’t remember why I copied only this one letter (it is not one of the two originals I retained) except that it is particularly interesting; too bad it isn’t a scan, but there were no scanners or iPhones in those days. Of course you’ll want to do your own much more expert transcription than my fledgling effort from 1981, but I include that for whatever it might be worth.”— Patrick Leary, 29 April 2024
Following the three letters, I have posted the extracts of pertinent details lifted from the Fryer collection of letters that Patrick Leary alluded to above. I have not transcribed his notes but anyone searching for information of Park Henry Fryer will undoubtedly find these worthwhile notes if they find his letters.
Letter 1
[Note: A scan of the following letter was provided to me for transcription and publication on Spared Shared by express consent courtesy of Patrick Leary.]
Hospital No. 2 1 New Albany, Indiana April 5th 1863
My most esteemed Brother,
This bright Sabbath evening finds me well and hearty and enjoying myself hugely. I was to church this morning and heard a good sermon after which they repaired to the water where four willing converts were buried in Christ by Baptism. This meeting has been in progress for the last 6 weeks and is not broke up yet. During this time, I have heard some most splendid sermons.
The letter you wrote for Henry Rider came to hand last night. I was glad to hear that you were all well save Hank who seems to be complaining but I have no reason to believe he is very dangerous. You will give him my best respects when you see him again and tell him I am all right on the Sleigh question but most likely we will wait a couple of years yet. Say to him for me that he had better take himself a fair damsel and settle down as he will have no company know you are left. Besides, if he waits till the soldiers come home, there will be no sight for him for we all intend to take ourselves our once loved maids without we make some new discourses down in Dixie. As for that fandango at the tavern, I hope they will have a good time but you can tell Hank that I wish to receive my commission in that line of amusements as I have come to the conclusion that it don’t pay very big hereafter.
Lewis, I had like to forgot to tell you about our Easter. We did not take it till night. Four of us then eat three dozen of eggs. They are only 12 per dozen here. Well, I’ve been to church again this evening and I must say that we have the best meetings I ever attended. It holds another week longer. I witnessed the scene of four sisters, one father and son, unite with the church last night making 6 out of the one family. There was truly a happy meeting with them such as I never before witnessed. [The] meeting held till 10 o’clock. I finished my task of reading the Bible through on Saturday. This is what you can’t say nor it isn’t likely I could of said it if I would of been at home so you see soldiering ain’t so bad after all.
Well, Lewis, I have drawn my rations of greenbacks which was $98.60, $60 of which I expressed to Father, which I expect will be at hand before Uncle Sam’s Boys can afford $5.50. I used to could write with a 75 cents pen but once Uncle Sam’s Boys can afford a $2.00 one. I also bought me a military vest which cost me $3.75, [and] other little traps to tedious to mention. You would smile to see the citizens look down their noses since the boys have drawn their greenbacks. You see, they can’t put on the style so we carry the day amongst the fair set. Who wouldn’t be a soldier and with the ladies dwell?
Well. Lewis, I made some new discoveries last week. I found three of the Brave 99th Boys and one of them belongs to the Gallant Co. B. His name is Peter Charpier [or Charpin], 2 if you remember him. He was wounded at Murfreesboro in the jaw but is now well. He can’t open his mouth much further than Jany Rider. He will get a discharge, I think. The other two belongs to Co. A, one of which was with me all the time at Bowling Green. His name is Benjamin Casteel. 3 Father will know him. He is well and hearty. The other is Sergeant Thomas J. King from Vanwort. He is got a lame back and he’s lost the 1st Lieutenancy by being absent.
Franklin Hickock, 15th Indiana Infantry—“wounded in the Murfreesboro Battle” (Ancestry.com)
Well, Lewis, I got a picture taken on Saturday and spoke for 5 photographs out of which I shall send to you the picture I sent to Ann. I put it in the office yesterday and if you don’t recognize it as Park H. Fryer, you have forgot how he looked. I shall also send you another photograph which we term Hospital Scene No. 2. The first on the left you will recognize as Franklin Hickock, a 15th Indiana boy and one of my roommates. 4 He was wounded in the Murfreesboro Battle. This white spot in his shoulder and [ ] is to represent the bullet holes. He is now able to go without his crutches and I and him are having grand times. The next one to him with his bones you will recognize as a convalescent church member. Mr. Skinner and Ohio men enlisted at Toledo. The next you will recognize as assistant cook, Richard Harpeth, a 36th Ohio boy. The next with his violin you will recognize as assistant nurse Mr. Brady, a Michigan boy. The next you will recognize as nurse Charles Webb, a 15th Indiana boy. He is the one that nursed me through the erysipelas, His instrument you will see is a crutch and cane. He is struck with surprise and has gone o keep time. The next standing behind him you will recognize as boss cook Albert Benton, a 15th Ohio boy who wouldn’t be a soldier. This I want you to show to Mr. Welch and ask him if he can recognize any of them. They were all here when he was to see me. I want you to take it to town with you and show it to all my friends there—especially to [ ]. Also to Stickey’s folks. I want you to take good care of it.
Father has been requesting me to give him the preacher’s name. I will send him a slip taken from the paper which has his name and his [re]marks of last Sabbath week which I received from one of the prominent members of the church.
Well. Lewis, I have got them photographs and will send you one in this letter. I have 4 more which I will send to various others—one goes to Hark and another to Sarah Nugent. The weather here is fine and times stirring in town. I should be glad if you could spend a week in such a place as this as you have always been deprived of seeing much city style. I, for my part, am all right. I weighed myself yesterday again and I drew 144. I expect I will [weight] 200 if they don’t quit feeding so well. Give my respects to all enquirers and remember me as your affectionate brother, — Sargeant Fryer
This is finished on the 7th.
1 There were as many as 12 hospitals in New Albany, Indiana, during the Civil War. Fryer identifies the one he was in as “Hospital No. 2” which was in the “Lower City School” located on Market Street between West 5th and 6th Streets.
2 Peter F. Charpier (1840-1918) was born in France. He served in Co. B of the 99th OVI from 16 July 1862 to 31 December 1864. The 1890 Veterans Schedule says he was transferred to the Invalid Corps before he was discharged. He gave his residence as Cynthian, Shelby county, Ohio.
3 Benjamin Casteel (1837-1864) served in Co. A, 99th OVI. He was from York, Van Wert county, Ohio. He was killed in action at the Battle of Kenessaw Mountain on 21 June 1864.
[Note: The transcript of the following letter was provided to me for publication on Spared Shared by Patrick Leary. There is no scan of the original available for me o verify the accuracy of the transcript.]
New Albany, Indiana July 6, 1863
Kind Brother,
Your welcome favor of the 2nd came to hand this evening and found me in good health and fine spirits. I believe I never felt as well in my life as I have the last month. [We have] good times—nothing to do and less to think about, and well paid for that. Take it lazy while you can for there is hardships coming but here is what is prepared for it in any shake for as long as he can stand it. I have been packed for the last two weeks, ready to start but have been mustered [for pay] during the time and will not leave till we are paid. The pay rolls came over tonight. We will sign them tonight and tomorrow morning so that we will be apt to get paid this week. Then here is going to report to headquarters for transportation to his regiment. There is two more of the 99th boys in town now. One of them is Isaac Crawford of Co B if you remember him—the one that could not eat but such a little at camp. (He left Dixie because they failed to keep him in Apple Jack for he was drunk the first time I saw him and the last and still holds his own.) The other is a fifer out of Co I. They are both able to run around and celebrated the Fourth [of July] with us.
The [99th] Regiment is now in the fortifications at Murfreesboro and expect to stay there all summer. They are in good health and fine spirits and enjoying themselves well. They write for me to join them as soon as possible.
Well, about the Fourth. We had a soldier celebration. There were about 1,000 of us. We formed into companies and marched round the streets with the band in front and two pieces of artillery with a large band wagon loaded with young ladies, namely the glee club as we term them here. In other words the, singing Club. Having finished our march, we stopped at No 5 Hospital 1 where we raised a Flag after which the Declaration of Independence was read after which we had several very appropriate speeches suitable for the occasion from some of the honorable gentlemen of New Albany—one from Doctor Fry, after which we partook of a dinner got up partly by citizens and partly by soldiers. This being over, we were marched up on the corner of Bank and Main, dressed up and broke ranks for our respective Hospitals. There were several other celebrations but on account of our own, I did not attend any of them. There was a smart shower of rain in the afternoon which made it quite disagreeable for the Sabbath school celebrations but from what I could learn, they had a good time in general. But how different was the scene to me to what it was last Fourth. Then I was at home and celebrating it with my friends and relations up by Davises, if you remember, in the Grove. We had the swiveling swing there too and Hank and George and myself run it.
Well, all there is about is this, I did not ride beside quite as many ladies this time. Neither did I take Harriet Dickey to the ball this time and liten Rod if you chose. Well instead of going to a Ball, I spent my evening in an Ice Cream Saloon and tried to keep it from spoiling. Well this is easy Soldering but still we must look out for no one or no one else will for him. So who blames me for having good times when I have the chance.
The war news here is favorable tonight and I have the expectation of seeing something soon. Health in New Albany is good. The Hospitals are all filled up here in the last week but they are generally convalescent. You stated in your letter that you would of liked to of seen me on my pony. I guess I would of just as leave of seen you as not and it wouldn’t of been long till you would of had those. You said that pressing business looked hard. It looks hard to see men march too and plenty of horses in the country and us to protect them and their owners. Why not ride when you can got the chance? All you want is the spunk to step up to them and tell them to dismount and it is all right.
Welch tells me friend Yucky(?) is arrested as a deserter and sent to Columbus and that Marion Williams is discharged. All right. Every dog is to have his day and I’ll have mine yet but I would not choose Yackeys. Them Copperheads will do something else besides swear and look down there noses before the thing is over. I am afraid the sweat will run down their backs and legs from packing knapsacks and guns yet, and tears stand in there eyes from the thought of lying down in the rain to go to sleep and in the mud at that, and all together likely without a blanket. That is what will bring them to there milk is pasture is poor and I won’t insure them fried ham and eggs for supper neither. But if they get hardtacks, they will fare better than I have at all times for I was down to parched corn two or three times and was glad to get that. Let them who has not tried it live and learn. I have not graduated myself yet.
My best respects to all at home expecting to be remembered as an absent Brother and Son. I shall write to you when I leave here. You can write as often as you please. They will all follow me if I should leave. As I have nothing more of importance, I will come to a close by sending you my best respects. Lewis, take care of the fair sex and speak a word for your absent brother occasionally. [Yours] absent brother, Park H. Fryer
I here send you a [ ] Song. If you can get the tune, it will be nice to [ ] send you any of the late songs if you want them there is a great variety of them here. I don’t suppose you hear as many as myself. So goodbye for this time.
1 Number 5 Hospital in Albany, Indiana, was located in Anderson’s College between West 3rd and 4th Streets.
Letter 3
Chattanooga, Tennessee October 15, 1863
Dear Brother,
This afternoon finds me seated in order to pen a reply to yours of the first which came to hand on yesterday and was glad to hear from you and to learn that you were getting in better health. It found me well though I had had a very severe spell a few days before.
It has been raining here for the last 4 days and is not through yet which makes it very disagreeable for us as we have nothing but our small tents. I suppose we will get the others tomorrow. We are still encamped along the rifle pits but expect to leave as soon as it clears up. We will move across the river to our brigade we are now consolidated with and other Corps. Our brigade is also consolidated with another. We now belong to the 4th Army Corps, 2nd Division, 2nd Brigade. Our Colonel [Peter T. Swain] is also taken from us. He was ordered to Cincinnati for some purpose. We mourn his loss but must put up with it till he returns as it is only on detached duty. Kephart is here with us and able for duty.
We now draw full rations again and the boys are in better spirits if they are a little wet at present. The sun is out now. Well, when a man wants nice comfortable times, let him be in the army when it rains for two or three days right ahead and then he can give some idea what a soldier’s life is.
Well, about our [Ohio Gubernatorial] election. It went off fine in our regiment. We put in 211 for [John] Brough & 26 for [Clement] Vallandigham. I went a Brough ticket with the exception of one man—that was Dorsey. I scratched him.
As for news, it just stands here as it was two weeks ago anymore than we are still getting better fortified. There is a few [rebels] comes in and gives themselves up but we can’t put any dependence in anything. They say [they may as] well as we have rations to draw and divide.
I must cut my remarks short. I expect to go on picket tomorrow and if it quits raining, I would just as leave. Well, Bill Hariff has just made a tin of coffee and divided with me so I guess I can stand it. I want to know if Frank Rider is amongst the living yet and if so, give him my best respects. I am perfectly ignorant of news at to town as there is no one writes to me anymore so you will have to keep me posted. As for my hat, it is gone up Shit Creek and I was very well satisfied to get off with a whole head minus a hat. But perhaps I will have the fun of seeing some of them lose theirs yet as several did that day.
The Battle Flag of the 99th OVI
As for standing up to the old colors, you need not be alarmed though they had like to of shot ours all away. Allen County ought to furnish us with another and we will warrant it to come out on the right side every time.
Well, hoping this will find you all well, I will close. My best respects to all enquirers. This leaves me well hoping to hear from you more often. Your absent brother, — Park H. Fryer
P. S. Chattanooga, Tennessee
Co. B. 99th OVI.
NOTES
Notes prepared by Patrick Leary along with extracts from the letters he catalogued back in 1980.
The following letters were written by Samuel Dill Cole (1819-1903), who enlisted as a private in Co. I, 72nd Illinois Infantry in mid-August 1862. At the time of his enlistment, Samuel was described as a 5’7″ tall, brown-haired, married, 44 year-old farmer residing in Prairie City, McDonough county, Illinois. When he wrote these letters in 1864, Samuel was in the Fifth Veteran Reserve Corps (VRC), having been transferred in August 1863 after only one year of service in the 72nd. We learn from these letters that Samuel had been wounded in his right arm on 22 May 1863 in the fighting before Vicksburg. The Fifth VRC was garrisoned in Burnside’s Barracks in Indianapolis where their regular duty was to guard Confederate prisoners in nearby Camp Morton.
Samuel was the son of Alva Cole (1774-1846) and Rosamond Freeman (1787-1847) of Cattaraugus county, New York. He was married to Myrna Miriam Brenenstall (1820-1887) and had at least three children, Martha Lovina (1854-1939), Rufus Rozel Cole (1858-1861), and Alva Abram Cole (1861-1925). He wrote these letters to his sister, Ruba Eloise (Cole) Merrill (1816-1887) who lost both her husband, Barzilla Merrill and her son, Alva Merrill, in the Battle of Chancellorsville in May 1863. Both were serving in Co. K, 154th New York Infantry.
Letter 1
Co. D, 5th Veteran Reserve Corps Burnsides Barracks 1 Indianapolis, Indiana May 7th 1864
Well sister Ruba, when you was out in Illinois, I promised to write to you. I will try after so long a time to write a few lines. My health is good at present and has been the most of the time since last September, for one year before that it was very poor.
I left home the 13th of August 1862 and went to Chicago and was sworn into the service the 14th, got to Cairo the last of August, taken sick two days after, and was not fit for duty until the middle of January. From that until the 22nd of May I was on duty most of the time. Was in the fight at Vicksburg the 22nd of May five hours and got four holes through the hide in my right arm and was sent to the hospital at Memphis, Tennessee. From there to St. Louis, Mo. In the hospital there until the 1st of August 1863 [when I] was put in the Invalid Corps and have been guarding rebels at Indianapolis since the first of October.
I have been home on furlough of 10 days in 21 months. Went home the 15th and came back the 25th day of April, 1864. Found my family in tolerable health. Miriam and Philip had the measles in February and had not entirely got over the effects of them yet but are able to work part of the time. Lovina is not a very stout girl but Alva is a stout, fleshy little chunk and as mischievous as need be. I made Phebe Ann a visit when I was at home. David and Phebe Ann’s health is poor and their youngest girl was quite sick. Their oldest boy is to work for 13 dollars per month this summer. Elvira’s health is tolerable good.
Peter’s family all well. Your Aunt Ruba’s health is poor. She is grunting around and working most of the time. The rest of the relatives is well. I had quite a visit with Elisha Dye when I was at home. He and Faila had been to see their girl that is married and living in Dekalb, Illinois. She was very sick and got some better and Elisha come down to Fulton to see his aunt and cousins.
Our regiment is now under marching orders. We expect to go to the City of Washington soon. If we do or do not, I will let you know soon so that you will know where to write to. I would have mailed before writing now but I have got my picture taken to send to you and don’t want to take it with me.
I hope this will find you and your children in good health. I would be very glad ot hear about Milo. This from your unfortunate brother, — Samuel D. Cole
To Ruba C. Merrill
1 To accommodate the necessary prison-camp garrison, commanders constructed additional military facilities adjacent to Camp Morton. Burnside Barracks, named after Indiana native Gen. Ambrose E. Burnside, was located just south of the prison camp.
Letter 2
Co. D. 5th Regt. V. R. C. Burnsides Barracks Indianapolis, Indiana [May 1864]
Dear sister, I wrote you a letter a few days ago in which I sent my likeness not expecting to remain here long enough to receive an answer but the prospect is that we will remain here some time—maybe all summer. Colonel Stevens has received orders to prepare to receive 5,000 more prisoners. We have 3,000 now and looking for more every day. Two hundred came in last week.
I had a letter from home last week. My family was all well. Walter Giles died about the first of May of consumption. He has been sick a long time. Was not much loss to his family or the neighborhood or country.
Your Aunt Ruby had a letter from Ransom a short time ago. He was in good health. He belongs to Co. D, 2nd Illinois Artillery and was in Alabama when he wrote. Cyril Cooper was at Vicksburg the last we heard from him. He was nurse in the hospital.
There is a good deal of a stir here in military matters. They are making all the efforts they can to raise men for the 100 days service. There is troops arriving every day and being sent on to the front. There seems to be a sort of a feeling or expectations that if the country does its duty in the present crisis, that war will soon be brought to a successful termination. I expect you get the war news in the papers nearly as soon as I do.
My health is good at present and I hope this will find your family in good health. I would be glad to hear from you soon. I would be glad to hear from my old neighbors and relatives in Cattaraugus and from my boy in particular.
My duties occupy so much of my time that I have but little time to write or anything else. I must bid you goodbye for the present. — Samuel D. Cole
T his sister, Ruby C. Merrill
Letter 3
Co. D, Fifth Regt. V. R. C. Burnside’s Barracks Indianapolis, Indiana June 7th 1864
Dear Sister, I received your kind letter the first of this month and waited to get one from home before answering it. I received one yesterday.
My family was well except Lovina was having the mumps. Philip and Alva will be likely to have them soon. One of my horses died one night since I was at home and Miriam and Philip is quite discouraged. They corn come up good but the cut worms is like to destroy it and it is very dry. The crops does not look very promising so you may guess they have some cause to be somewhat discouraged. Last year it was extremely dry in parts of Illinois and some of my old neighbors said that there had never been so near a total failure of crops as there was last year. My family had to buy everything to live on except bread. I raised wheat enough before I enlisted to last them until after harvest but I guess there will be some way for them to get along. I have sent home $180 since I have been in the service and I guess they have nearly enough to buy a horse on hand now.
I was very glad to hear about so many of my old neighbors and much pleased to hear as good account of Milo as you wrote. I hope that he will not think of going into the army unless he is compelled to. It is a very hard place for anybody and more than a hard place for a young man. I think that our connections has done their full share in this war so far without anymore enlisting at present. It seems hard to have our nearest and dearest friends sacrificed in such a war as this. You may be sure that I feel to sympathize with you in your bereavement. Such is the fate of war. I should be glad as anyone living to have the time soon come when our country can be at peace again but I do not want the war to close until the rebellion is crushed to atoms and slavery wiped out.
You had something to say about your letter a kind of broken mess without comprehending much but I guess you will find this pretty much so, only a good deal more so. I would be glad to hear from you often. You promised to write about your affairs, I hope you will do so. I might say a little more about myself and family.
I did not expect when I enlisted but what it would take all that I had and my wages to support my family until I got out of the service but I guess I shall not regret it much if wife will profit by the lesson she will be apt to learn (you can guess). I did not tell my folks that. I was a going to send you my photograph and I expect Elvira will send you one. If she does, I hope you will give Milo one of them. My health is good. — Samuel D. Cole
Letter 4
Co. D, 5th Regiment V. R. C. Burnsides Barracks Indianapolis, Indiana June 28th 1864
Dear Sister, I have just received yours of June 23rd and am glad to hear that you and yours are in good health and hope that you will continue to enjoy the same. My health is good at present. I had a letter from home dated June 17th. My family was in good health and our relatives about there generally are well. [Brother] P[eter] B[urr] Cole [of Fulton county, IL] has 7 girls and one boy. The boy [Clarence] was born in May or June. They don’t say exactly when. I am very much pleased with your letter and would be glad if I could write one that would be as interesting to you as yours was to me.
29th. It is raining a little today. It has been rather too dry and hot so far this season for successful crop raising. Grain will be rather light. It has been very dry in Fulton county, Illinois. You wanted to know how or where my wound was. Well I will tell you as near as I can. Just as I fired my gun, before I had moved from the position my arm was then in, the ball struck struck just below my elbow on the under side of my arm and cut across and come one inch and a half below the elbow. Then went in about two inches above the elbow and come out one inch and a half from my body. It did not touch my body or shoulder at all. It cut off a nerve just below the elbow. That weakens my hand some and my little finger are numb and feel as though they was asleep all the time. When I use my hand a little too much or lift much with it. I have some pain in my hand and wrist, but no pain where the wound was.
At the time I was wounded I lost a great deal of blood. It was as much as I could do to walk one mile from where I was wounded to get to the ambulance. Then I had to ride two miles before I could get my arm dressed. The third morning after when they went to dress my arm, he said it was mortified. It was black and yellow from three inches below my elbow to my shoulder. He called the doctor to me and he looked two minutes before he said anything. Then he said it was not mortified yet. He had flaxseed poultice 1 put on it and had it changed three times a day for nine days before the inflammation got out. Two days after it got to aching severely and soon the pain began to run in my side and came very near throwing me into lockjaw. The doctor attended to me pretty close for a while and gave me some powerful doses of medicine and poulticed my arm or I should not be here. Well, I guess enough about that.
A piece of a cap struck in my right eye and cut through the film and the inflammation got in it and from that to the other and made me almost blind for 6 weeks and they was very weak until in the winter. They are pretty good now though not as good as before.
We have bakers bread and beef, pork and beans, and some new potatoes to eat & coffee 3 times a day to drink. Have tolerable good barracks, board bunks, straw bed, and one woolen blanket and overcoat for bed and bedding. The work is guard duty one day and night in three—sometimes oftener and sometimes not quite so often—drills and dress parade, and cleaning up our streets and quarters, and many other things that our benevolent officers can contrive to keep us out of mischief.
Confederate Prisoners in the “Bull Pen” of Camp Morton Prison Camp in Indianapolis
We are having a little easier time just now than we have had before since we have been here. The 28th Ohio Regiment is here helping guard the prisoners of which there is 4,500 now and more on the way here. The 28th Ohio brought 1,000 when they came here. The prisoners had as good grub as we did until 1 month ago [when] they cut down their rations about one half by order of the War Department in retaliation of their treatment of our men. Their quarters is nearly as good as ours. There is twenty acres in the prison yard (or bull pen as we call it). There [are] near 20 barracks 50 feet long, 20 wide, and one about 300 feet long besides a good many smaller buildings and about two or 300 tents. They have hospitals and doctors and nurses to take care of the sick.
Last winter was rather hard on the rebel prisoners. Some days there was 8 or ten died a day. Now they do not more than one die a day on an average. The burying ground where they bury the rebels we call Governor Morton’s Colony 2 and there is a great many in it all ready and I wish they was all there. I guess I have wrote enough about the rebs for this time.
Alva was born August 20, 1861. Lovina [was born] December 8th 1854. I would like to know Osman Markham’s Post Office address. Uncle Sam has got some land for me somewhere and I guess I shall try to find it when I get out of the service if I do not find it before. I hope you will write again soon. What of Old John H. Rice?
I remain your brother with respect and esteem, — Samuel D. Cole
To Ruby C. Merrill
Do not send any more stamps. I had 21 when I got your letter.
1 Flax has been described as the quintessential drawing herb in the herbal first-aid world. As a poultice, flaxseed drains wounds and draws out infection while killing pain, soothing inflammation, and healing the tissue. It was a commonly used treatment for gunshot wounds during the Civil War.
2 I could not find this term being used by others to describe the Confederate soldiers burial ground in Indianapolis. It is not known for certain, but it is estimated that approximately 1,700 prisoners died at Camp Morton between 1862 and 1865. Confederate prisoners were buried in wooden coffins in trenches on five lots purchased near the City Cemetery, which was later expanded and became known as Greenlawn Cemetery. The individual gravesites were marked with wooden boards bearing painted identification numbers that were worn away by the passage of time. Some of the Confederates buried in Indianapolis’s City Cemetery were exhumed and returned to their families; however, the remains of 1,616 Confederate prisoners were left at Greenlawn. In 1866 a fire ravaged the cemetery office, destroying the records that gave the precise location of the burials .
Letter 5
Co. D, 5th Regiment V. R. C. Burnsides Barracks Indianapolis, Indiana July 28, [1864]
Dear sister, I have but one excuse to make for not writing sooner. I have been waiting to get a letter from home. The last was dated July 8th. I have wrote home twice since then. Miriam was quite unwell. Philip was having the mumps pretty hard. Lovina was having a large boil on her arm and Alva had a swelling on his foot. They complain of its being very dry there. It is very dry here. The crops is suffering severely for the want of rain. It begins to look as though there was some danger of famine. 1
My health is not very good but I can do my duty. The guard duty comes pretty hard on us this hot weather. We are guard every third day, sometimes every other day. The 28th Ohio [Infantry] has left us so we have to do it all again. We expect to have more help soon. The country is quite level about here and we have first rate well water and a plenty of it. The general health of the 5th & 17th Regiment V. R. C. is good. There is now near 700 men in our two regiments for guard duty and near 200 on other duties and probably near 200 that is not fit for duty. There is about 300 men just arrived here to fill up our regiment. They are from Madison Hospital, Indiana. Uncle Sam is making good use of the condemned soldiers by putting them into the V. R. C. and making them do guard and garrison duty. It saves more than an equal number of men that is fit for field service.
I had been thinking of trying to get my discharge this fall but since U. S. has called for 500,000 more men, I guess I had better stay where I am. If I should get my discharge, they could raft Philip but they cannot do it while I am in the service. His health is so poor that I do not think he could stand the service three months.
There is 5,000 prisoners in Camp Morton now. 2 There has none been brought in in the last two weeks. I was on guard Monday and again Wednesday and too tired and sleepy to write more this time. There is no prospect of our leaving here at present. I would not be disappointed if we should stay here until my term of service expires.
Confederate POWs in the “Bull Pen” at Camp Morton Prison in Indianapolis
If you will continue to write, I will try and answer your letters. I remain your affectionate brother, — Samuel D. Cole
To Ruby C. Merrill
1 “In Springfield [Illinois] during the first week of August the heat peaked on the 2nd at 108 degrees, but on Wednesday and Thursday (August 3-4) The Republican [newspaper] made note that .97 inches of rain fell. “More than during the two full months previous.” It was the worst drought in 17 years.”
2 Samuel’s estimate of prisoners is consistent with that reported by the Indiana Historical Society. “In the summer of 1864 the prisoner population reached nearly 5,000.”According to the book by Winslow and Moore entitled “Camp Morton, 1861-1865, Indianapolis Prison Camp,” by the end of July 1864, the seven barracks housed from 436 to 484 inmates each, 554 men occupied the old cattle shed, and a fourth of the men were still sweltering in tents in cramped rows between the buildings.” Weary of fighting many took the oath of allegiance to the United States Constitution and to the Union according to Lincoln’s Proclamation of Amnesty and Reconstruction of 8 December 1863. On 1 April 1865 1,408 prisoners were at the camp. In June 1865 the last of the Confederate prisoners were released.
