The following lengthy letter was written by 48 year-old Amanda (Angle) McPherson (1815-1887), the wife of Peter McPherson (1814-1891) of West Milton, Saratoga county, New York. She wrote the letter to Colonel James B. McKean of the 77th New York Infantry, pleading the case of her son Edwin L. McPherson (1837-Aft1910)—a member of that regiment—who was arrested for violating his parole by returning home rather than to remain in the convalescent camp after he he had been released by the Confederates following his capture during the Second Battle of Fredericksburg on 5 May 1863. Sent to the convalescent camp while awaiting his exchange, Edwin believed he could go home since he had to remain a noncombatant until properly exchanged but his absence from the camp without a furlough resulted in his being declared a deserter.
The 77th New York Infantry, known as the Saratoga Regiment, was mustered into service in November 1861 and Edwin, aged 24 at the time of his enlistment, entered as a private. The regiment was a hard fought regiment which lost heavily at Antietam before the fight at Fredericksburg.
Where Edwin went after he deserted from the army is not known but he showed up in Adrian, Lewanee county, Michigan after the war, married there and remained there the balance of his life. Amanda and her husband Peter relocated to Adrian as well and were buried there in Oakwood Cemetery.
Transcription
West Milton, Saratoga County, New York August 10th 1863
Dear Sir,
I should not have troubled you with this letter was it not for something that lays near my heart, and that the Colonel in his letter which you will see, saying let your husband call on Adjutant General Sprague, relate the facts to him & money is wanting with him to come and see you. I told him I would write & tell you just as it is, and I thought your kind heart would lead you to render assistance to your fellow beings. A friend in need is a friend indeed.
Col. James Bedell McKean, 77th NY Infantry
Now I will tell you in the first place how I came to write to Colonel McKean. The next night after we came from visiting our sick son in Albany, while I was praying for our bleeding country & that the Lord would take care of our son and preserve him still from death, or anything that blame could be attached to him, he has often wrote that did not approve of desertion. It seemed as if something said to me, write to Col. McKean & tell him how he is situated & about his health & his eye & he will help you to [obtain] a discharge for your son. So the next day I sit down to write him & here is his answer.
Now I will give you my son’s history from the time of his enlistment—two years it will be this fall. He enlisted in the 77th [New York Infantry] & left his friends & home to fight for & preserve the Union as far as laid in his power. He has stayed with his regiment, been through all the hardships and perils and long marches & has faced death while his comrades have been cut down on every side. Still the Lord has seen fit to spare him.
At the Battle of Fredericksburg, he with 1700 others were taken prisoners, were marched a hundred and thirty miles—I think he said it was—through Richmond to Belle Island where they were paroled & then marched back with a cruel man for a driver. They came to Annapolis, stayed there four days, then the New York soldiers were sent to Camp Convalescent. My son as well as others was anxious to come home and make a visit, seeing they could be of no service until they were exchanged. I do not know whether he asked for a furlough or not, but he said some of the boys asked for one & the commander told them he could not give them one, but said if they was not smart enough to get home without a furlough, they wasn’t much of a soldier. So they took it for granted that if they could get out of the lines, they might come home. So my son and another fellow got a pass to Washington & came home.
He got here Saturday & on Monday or Tuesday, he sat down & wrote to the commander at the Convalescent Camp giving him the name of the place & post office address saying, “Please let me know when we are to be exchanged & I will be on hand,” or something like that. I am not positive just the words, but I think those were the words. His father and he thought being he was a prisoner and under that man’s control that that was the place he ought to report to. But imagine our feelings & surprise when a week from the next Friday, on come the Deputy Provost Marshal and arrested my son for a deserter.
I shall leave to your honor to say if you think he meant to desert to come home & stay openly & boldly & write back, which he would not have done if he had meant to have left for good. Well, they took him to Albany & from there to Schenectady & locked him up. How it starts the tears from my eyes when I write this—to think that our only son—all the son we have—should enlist without those large bounties that some have got since he enlisted, & go for the defense of our country & go through what he has, & I think his health is ruined for life. He has such a pain in his right side & when he had been home a day or two, has spoke of his stomach swelling. When I come to look at him, it was swollen near as large as a quart bowl. His father asked him how long it had been so. He said some 5 or 6 months. I think those long marches & those straps across his breast is the cause of it. He said he has had his feet wet for ten days and nights & not had his boots off in the time. All those things has tended to undermine his health.
As I was going to say, when I think of what he has went through, and to think he was took off like a felon & put in jail. Do you think I could tell you how we felt? If you have an only son, you can imagine better than I can, I tell you. But there is a day a coming when all that do right will be treated accordingly. A private there will receive as much praise for his good behavior & honesty & for doing to others as he would wish others to do to him, as though he were a king. It is that alone that keeps us from sinking beneath our feelings now.
To continue, his father went with him when they took him away. Mr. Butler told him he would leave Schenectady Monday afternoon so on Monday a.m. we went to see him & carry him some clothes. When we got there, we found him sick. His father stayed with him that night to see what the doctors thought of him. He said he was a going to have a run of fever & he must be taken to a hospital. So Mr. Butler wrote a letter to Major Townsend & Mr. McPherson took it to him. He read it, wrote another, sent the two to Major Wallis which he read, then told my husband to fetch him to the hospital for two weeks. He was very sick. Then he began to mend. We went to see him twice while he was there. When we were there the last time, which will be three weeks tomorrow, we talked with the clerk, Mr. Cogswell, to see if he could not be taken into the Invalid Corps. The ward master took his name for that the week before but the clerk said he would have to go back to Convalescent Camp. He told him he wasn’t able to go then so when we left him from the camp, I told him we should look for a letter from him on Saturday or Tuesday at the farthest.
We sent to the [post] office Saturday & no letter. And on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, & Thursday—by that time I go to uneasy about him, I was afraid he had gone on and was taken worse. So on Friday I wrote a few lines to the lady of the hospital telling her we wee afraid he was down sick again seeing we had had no letter from him since we were there. The next Tuesday, which is last Tuesday, I received a letter from her saying that his health had continued to improve since we were there and that last Wednesday he left there & they had not seen him since. It was three days then.
I think he had not the least idea of leaving in such a way when we were there for if he had, he would have said something or hinted it to us. But if there is any truth in man or woman, I can assure you that we had not the least nor distant thought of his leaving—only to go to the camp. We would be very glad to know how he came to leave. The only thing that I can bring up in my mind is this. When we went to Schenectady to see him while his Pa had gone after the doctor, he said to me, “Now you can see how a man is used for reporting and trying to do the fair thing.” “Never mind it,” I said, “Perhaps the Lord has taken this way to fetch it about so you will get a discharge or be put in the Invalid Corps.” That was all the conversation that passed between us on that subject, except he said, “What do the neighbors say about their taking me off?” “They think,” said I, “that the commander at the camp might have wrote to you as long as you was honest enough to tell him where you was and then if you had not have went, they then could have sent for you.”
I will assure you, he is marked where he is known for his truthfulness & steady habits & I think if you wanted any proof of his habits or character, more than taking my word for it, if you would draw up a paper & send it to us, if we don’t get 10 signers enough to it here ot to his regiment to satisfy you of what I have written to be true, then I will ask help of no one.
When I spoke to my husband about writing to you, he said it was of no use, it will not do any good. I must confess my faith has wavered until Friday all at once, while I was at work, it came to me like a flash. Why should I doubt. The Lord is not slack concerning His promises as some men count slackness but is not willing that any should perish—that all should come to the knowledge of truth. Said I to my daughter, “I believe if I should write to you & tell you that that our hope & trust is in God & you to contrive some way that [our son] may be honorably discharged, I cannot bear the thought that he should leave in such a way but think probably after we came away he thought like this.
Now I came, it’s true, like a great many others and reported as I thought to the right place & must I be arrested when I told him where I was, took and locked up, then have a bill of twelve dollars and a half sent in for taking me when perhaps there will be two or three more sent for taking me back, which will take four or five months of my wages to pay while the other fellow that came with me is taken in the Invalid Corps, when three cents [the price of a stamp] would have saved all this? Or perhaps he seen others taken off handcuffed & chained together. I have heard that’s the way they do it. But remember, I only guess at this. But I have no doubt but what those were his thoughts & that he had no way to remedy it now. But his feelings were hurt to the quick for it was something he wasn’t expecting.
Now, for our part, I would like to ask your excellency this. Is there an honorable way that you can devise or cause to be done so that my son could be discharged provided we could by any means get a clue to where he is and have him come back to Albany. If you can & will assure us that he shall have a discharge, he is deserving of it, don’t you think so? For one, he has but one eye & that is his left one. If you can, please let us know and how long a time you will give us to find him. It will probably take some time & money for we can form no idea where he is now or in what direction he has gone. I think his health would not admit of his going far on foot. He has friends living in different states. He might have taken the cars and we should have to write & get an answer. But if you can do it, you shall be paid for your trouble for we all do something for the pay if it cost us 50 dollars or a hundred to have him to…P. S. If I have written any[thing] that is not becoming or has any sound like disloyalty, I take it all back.
N. B. If he should have been out in the Invalid Corps, he would have been satisfied. I heard him say so when he was first taken sick & I think perhaps Major Wallace would have done it if my husband could have seen him while he was sick at Albany.
…home once more as he once was. We are patriotic, I’ll assure you. My husband offered himself last fall but they would not take him & was my son, what he was 18 months ago & subject to military duty, I should not plead so for him. I have wearied your patience long before this time so I will close hoping and praying for the result.
The following letters were written by William Hervey Coffin (1835-1927), the son of Hervey Coffin (1810-1873) and Rachel Mills (1808-1873) of Pipe Creek, Madison county, Indiana. William was married to Rachel Luzena Shelley (1839-1927) in September 1857 and had his own farm in Adel, Dallas county, Iowa by the time of the 1860 US Census.
William Hervey Coffin, Co. C, 39th Iowa Infantry
William enlisted on 9 August 1862 and mustered into Co. C, 39th Iowa Infantry as a private on 27 August 1862. He mustered out of the regiment on 5 June 1865 at Washington, D. C.
The 39th Iowa Regiment was organized at Des Moines and Davenport and mustered in November 24, 1862. Moved to Cairo, Ill., December 12-14; thence to Columbus, Ky., December 16. Attached to 3rd Brigade, District of Corinth, 17th Army Corps, Dept. of Tennessee, to January, 1863. 3rd Brigade, District of Corinth, 16th Army Corps, to March, 1863. 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, 16th Army Corps, to September, 1864. 3rd Brigade, 4th Division, 15th Army Corps, to August, 1865.
Defense of Jackson, Tenn., and pursuit of Forest December 18, 1862, to January 3, 1863. Parker’s Cross Roads December 30-31, 1862. Moved to Corinth, Miss., January 6, 1863, and duty there till November, 1863. Dodge’s Expedition into Northern Alabama April 15-May 8. Great Bear Creek and Cherokee Station April 17. Tuscumbia April 22-23. Town Creek April 28. March to Pulaski, Tenn., November 2-12. Guard duty at Reynolds Station and along railroad till January 21, 1864, and at Pulaski till March 12. Moved to Athens, Ala., March 12, and to Chattanooga, Tenn., April 30. Atlanta(Ga.) Campaign May 1 to September 8. Demonstration on Resaca May 8-13. Snake Creek Gap and Sugar Valley May 9-10. Battle of Resaca May 13-14. Ley’s Ferry, Oostenaula River, May 14-15. Rome Cross Roads May 16. Kingston May 19. Moved to Rome May 22 and duty there till August 15. Expedition after Wheeler August 15-September 16. Moved to Allatoona October 4. Battle of Allatoona October 5. Moved to Rome October 9. Reconnoissance and skirmishes on Cave Springs Road October 12-13. Etowah River October 13. March to the sea November 15-December 10. Ogeechee Canal December 9. Siege of Savannah December 10-21. Campaign of the Carolinas January to April, 1865. Salkehatchie Swamps, S. C., February 3-5. South Edisto River February 9. North Edisto River February 12-13. Columbia February 15-17. Lynch’s Creek February 25-26. Battle of Bentonville, N. C., March 20-21. Occupation of Goldsboro March 24. Advance on Raleigh April 9-13. Occupation of Raleigh April 14. Bennett’s House April 26. Surrender of Johnston and his army. March to Washington, D. C., via Richmond, Va., April 29-May 30. Grand Review May 24. Moved to Louisville, Ky., June. Mustered out August 2, 1865.
[Note: I transcribed only a half dozen of the roughly 140 letters that are in this archive which I learned had been previously transcribed and published in a book entitled, Love Letters from the Civil War, a work that was edited by John B. and Donna L. Chapman (a descendant) and published in 2000. Although they subsequently sold the letters after publishing the book, they claim the material is copyrighted and I do not wish to infringe upon their work, which can be purchased at Amazon for $15. Neither do I wish to waste my time transcribing material that is already available to researchers. The letters that follow are a fair representation of the quality and content of the letters in the collection and which may be found in the aforementioned book.]
A less flattering image of William Coffin, 39th Iowa
Letter 1
Addressed to Rachel L. Coffin, Pleasant Plain, Jefferson Co. Postmarked Cairo, Illinois January 11, 1863
Jackson, Tennessee January 5th 1863
Dear wife & children,
I now seat myself for the purpose of writing you a few lines to let you know that I am well at present and hope these few lines will find you well. There han’t been any chance to send or get letters since we come down here on account of the railroad being tore up It was tore up & some bridge burnt the next day after we got here. They have got it all fixed but about 12 miles. We got a mail last night for the first time since we left Iowa. They run a coach across where the track ain’t finished. We had a large mail destroyed when Trenton was taken by the rebels. That was in a few days after we got here.
Our regiment was in the battle of Parker’s Cross Roads or Red Mound as some call it, except our company was left up at Huntington on picket through neglect of the officer of the day or we would have been in it too. We got in sight just as the yaller breeches was making a blue streak. I han’t found out what our loss was but not near as heavy as the enemy. Our regiment lost 3 killed and 40 wounded & there was 9 of our company give out on the road & was taken prisoner. There was 106 from the regiment give out and stopped & 102 of them was taken.
Tommy Ashton was driving a team and was taken. They are all paroled. [Issacher J.] Zeke Davis & [Aaron] Hense Cowger and Joe Early was taken. That is all that you knowed. I stood the march as well as any of them. I never had better health in my life. We are living on what they call half rations but we generally have all we want.
We camped the night after the battle on the field. I saw several dead men on both sides. We buried our dead and left the rebels for their friends to bury at their request. We have been moving so much that I can’t hardly tell where all we have been. We have had pretty easy times except when was was marching which was just a week. I don’t know whether we will stay here long or not. We are very comfortably situated in little log cabins built for the purpose.
This is a very pleasant place in the winter. I don’t know how it will be in the summer. It looks as though people would starve out here before summer come. The citizens of this place are on rations the same as soldiers & they say there ain’t but 10 days rations in the place. They took from the rich and divided with the poor. There is plenty in the country back apiece from town but there won’t be long if they tear up the railroad much more for there is a good many soldiers here and they will have something to eat if the country affords it.
I han’t seen [Wesley] Krysher for over a week. He’s at Trenton. He stays with our things that we can’t take with us on a march. When we started, we was at Trenton. I left my blanket and shirt & drawers there. I keep the old quilt. It is better than a blanket.
I want you to write & let me know how you are getting along for I am very anxious to know. Write and let me know whether you got the money I sent you and how much you have on hand, &c. We didn’t get any the last payday and not likely we will if we stay down here. It ain’t safe for a man to try to come here with money. I suppose you have been some uneasy about me. I wrote a letter to you 10 days ago but couldn’t send it. About the time they get the road fixed in one place, they tear it up in another.
I got a letter last night from Jim Jones but he didn’t say anything about you. I suppose there is nothing serious the matter or he would have wrote. O. C. Macy got a letter from home stating old Ab Davenport’s had lost their baby and Steve VanCleve was dead. Tell your father we have some good bates of persimmons which would make him think of old times if he was here. We get a little of most everything to eat. We ain’t choosy—we take it as it comes. We do our own baking now all together. Sometimes we have meal & sometimes flour. We have beef, bacon, pickle, pork & bacon, and once in awhile a glorious mess of seet potatoes. We ain’t bothered with pie peddlers like was was at Davenport.
We have over 300 prisoners here. They talk some of sending our regiment to Cairo with [them]. We would like to get the job of guarding them through. They are a motley looking set of fellows. They are all dressed well enough but they have no uniform. There is nary two dressed alike. Even the officers have no uniform. The privates we took seem to be very tired of fighting. They say it is bringing lots of families to starvation. They most of them say they was pressed into the service.
I am on picket guard today. There is 16 of us together—four watches at a time. The rest do what they please. I would rather be on picket than at camp. There ain’t so much confusion & we have a nice place to stay. We have a shelter fixed up to sleep under.
The niggers are having a jolly time today cutting down the timber close to us so as to give the cannons a good range if this place is attacked. Niggers are pretty plenty here but white folks are scarce except soldiers. Once in awhile we see a butternut slipping around as though he had been killing sheep. I han’t seen any snow since I left Iowa. It has been cold enough to freeze a little three or four nights. I will quit for this time. I won’t get to go in till tomorrow morning. Maybe I will write some more then.
This the 6th [January]. We came in and found the regiment in line ready to take the cars for Corinth. We will start in a little while. We had a good time on picket last night. We sent out & got a ham of meat & some sausage & corn meal and borrowed an oven and had the best supper & breakfast we have had in Tennessee. I will have to quit for this time.
Write soon and tell me how you and the children are getting along. Tell Dick to write. I allowed to write some to him this time if I hadn’t been hurried off.
So farewell for this time. Direct your letters to Co. C, 39th Iowa Infantry, Cairo, Illinois
That is the general distribution office for sll army mail matter. This from your affectionate husband, — Wm. Coffin
Letter 2
[Corinth, Mississippi] Tuesday, March 10, 1863
Dear wife,
It is with pleasure that I take my pen for the purpose of writing you a few lines. I am well with the exception of a cold. I hope this will find you and the children well.
We have a good deal of rain lately. It rained hard nearly all night last night adn looks as though it wasn’t over yet. We had the hardest hail storm last Sunday evening I ever saw. There was lots of hail as large as a prairie chicken’s egg and the ground was completely covered with hail. It rains for keeps when it does rain lately. We hain’t had any cold weather for some time.
Health is still improving some in our regiment. Weir Couch is getting pretty stout. Krysher is confined to the hospital with his leg. I have my doubts about him ever being able to do duty as a soldier. W. J. Davenport is getting better and I think he will get well. I am cooking this week. It don’t suit me very well. It is too confining. We cook in our tents yet but will have cook sheds by the last of this week.
We got word that all the prisoners from this regiment was exchanged and on their way here. There is about 150 of them which will help the looks of our regiment considerable. I guess there is some of them that would rather been excused from coming back.
We hain’t got any money yet and I guess it is uncertain about us getting any soon. I want you to write and let me know how you are getting along. I hope Anderson will send you some money. I hain’t heard yet what he has done in regard to the wheat and corn. I want you to write and let me know what you have concluded to do about keeping house and all about it. If you still want to keep house, I will try to make some arrangement to get you some money to fix up with. Tell Williams’s folks if you see them that I was over to Jess last Saturday and he was well and hearty. He looks about as well as he ever did. Tell Henry & his I would like to see them and tumble them around awhile. Tell them they must learn their books so that they can spell for me when I come home.
I feel in hopes this war won’t last much longer. The prospect is that they will have Vicksburg in a few weeks at farthest and when that is done, I think they will feel their holds slip pretty fast. There is lots of people here that will have to starve or eat weeds before long.
Well, I must quit and go to getting dinner. After dinner I will try to finish my letter. It is raining some and looks like being a rainy time. I hain’t had any letters since yours of the 11th of February—only father’s of the 21st. I begin to want to get some letters pretty bad. We didn’t get any mail last night and I don’t expect we will for 2 or 3 days on account of the railroad being damaged by water between Jackson and Columbus.
Our regiment have [not] been away from here in a good while. I hope we won’t have to make any trip till it quits raining. There is some kind of bushes that are getting pretty green here now and the grass is beginning to start up considerable. I have seen peas where they have grown scattered around camp up 2 or 3 inches. I guess that if they were let alone, we could have green peas in a month or 6 weeks. I don’t know of anything more that will interest you so I will bring my letter to a close by requesting you to write often. I would be glad if you would write as often as once a week anyhow and oftener when you can. I never get tired of reading letters. No more. Yours as ever. — Wm. Coffin
Letter 3
The following is a description of Dodge’s Expedition into Northern Alabama April 15-May 8.
Corinth, Mississippi May 3rd 1863
Dear Wife,
As it has been some time since I have had an opportunity of writing, I will now try to write you a few lines giving a description of our trip.
We started from here the 15th of April, went to Burnsville and camped, 16th went to Iuka and took dinner. Went on to Clear Creek and camped. 17th, all our forces but a company of our regiment and the trains, which we were left to guard, went on to Bear Creek where the rebs were said to be in considerable force and in a strong position. Our batteries were planted on a high hill on this side where they commenced shelling to woods on the other in order to find where the rebs were. Fortunately about three of our first shells lit right in their camp killing three and the rest skedaddled. Our cavalry followed them some 5 or 6 miles and had some sharp skirmishing.
In the evening we moved up with the train. 18th, our cavalry, some infantry, and some artillery followed the rebs and had a sharp skirmish—some killed on both sides. We lost two pieces of artillery and about 40 men taken prisoners. 19th, we got our guns back & [took] several prisoners. Were reinforced by another brigade in the evening which fetched our mail to us. I got a letter from you that you wrote the day you left father’s, one from Dick write the 12th, and one from Thol and Abigail.
20th, more soldiers coming. Fetched us more mail. I got a letter from you wrote I believe the 13th and one from father and mother. 21st, all quiet. 22nd all quiet. 23rd, marched and crossed Buzzard Roost, Cane Creek &c. and camped in the woods by a large farm which afforded plenty of rails for fires. 24th, went on to Stinking Bear Creek where the rebs was said to be fortified. Got there, found a few rails piled up for them to hide behind but none of them there. Went on to Tuscumbia expecting a big fight there certain but instead of fighting, they run as though their shirt tails was afire. Camped all round town. Our cavalry followed the rebs and took in 80 of them.
They now took a position about two miles from us. The first was a mile and a half. They only had one gun that would reach us from this place. We had several that would reach them. It was a nice thing to look at. we could see our shells burst around them and see the smoke from their gun. Both forces were on an open field. A lot of us was on a high point looking at them and they commenced on us. The first shell they throwed lit close enough to throw dirt in some of our boys eyes. We could see them coming in time to dodge them, They were so near spent by the time they go to where we were that we could run out of the way. They have a whiz that I don’t like the sound of. They can’t be seem when it is clear.
About 10 o’clock our men commenced making a bridge to cross over on. The rebs tried very hard to shell them back from the creek but all in vain. They wounded three of our men slightly was all the damage was done to our forces all day. About one o’clock the shelling ceased and the 1st Brigade crossed over on the railroad bridge which they had been afraid to do before for fear of the rebs having guns that would rake the road. About three, they got the other bridge fixed so our Brigade crossed. There was skirmishers throwed out and we advanced in line of battle a mile. The skirmishers got a few shots at them a good way off as they run. We commenced killing hogs and chickens for supper when we were ordered back to where we camped the night before. We got back a little after dark, found our quartermaster with 50 head of sheep ready butchered for us, cooked our supper, and roasted a sheep leg apiece for next day.
29th, started back, burnt the railroad bridge which I think was the main thing we came for. I will just say we had the 1st Alabama Cavalry with us which was a great extent made up tight in this part of Alabama. When they left for to keep from being pressed into the rebel service, the rebs burnt their houses and took their property of all times and now they thought was their time although very contrary to General Dodge’s orders. Before daylight, Old Town—as it is called—was in flames. It is two big planters live close together. They had had so many negroes that their shanties made it look like a town. From that on we could see houses burning all the time, no difference which way we looked.
We got to Tuscumbia about noon. Don’t think there was a dozen houses in five miles of the road on either side but what was burnt. Went on to Stinking Bear Creek and camped. I forgot to say that the citizens had all fled to the mountains with their mules, horses, negroes, bacon, &c. All that stayed at home saved their houses and all that left got them burnt. They didn’t burn any houses where the people was at home. This valley clear from Big Bear to Old Town is very good country…
No more this time, as ever, — Wm. Coffin
Letter 4
[Corinth, Mississippi] Friday evening, May 29th 1863
Dear Wife,
I take the present [opportunity] to inform you that I am well at present and hope those few lines will find you and the children well. I received the socks you sent last night. They are just the kind I wanted. I hope to be able to do as much for you sometime.
Health is about like it was when I wrote last. Oliver is complaining today but nothing serious. Weir Couch has a felon on his finger which is hurting him some. Not to its worst yet. We have had some very warm weather lately. We drill a half hour every morning and three quarters in the evening skirmish with the gray backs and wood ticks. The balance of the time we live well and have as good times as soldiers could expect to have. O. C. Macy and I have divided blankets. The non-commissioned officers have to all live in one house. Oliver being a sergeant, he had to go in with them. He is a good fellow for a partner.
I aim to go up to the 16 mile water tank in the morning to see Jess Williams, go a fishing, get some eggs, butter, onions, &c. if I can get a pass.
We got good news from Vicksburg last night which I hope will prove true. Our negro soldiers are learning to drill very fast. They turn their whole attention to it. They are keen to get to try the rebs a hitch. They have great confidence in theirselves. I don’t know how they will do but I believe they will do good fighting.
I sent you a paper a few days ago. There is some prospect of us having to do post duty here. I don’t like the idea much though it will exempt us from going on marches, &c. If we get the position, our works will be guarding the stockade where the prisoners are kept, the general’s headquarters, the post commissary, &c. &c. I would rather do picket duty.
Weir got a letter from Dallas stating that Andersons had started to Jefferson. I suppose they are gone back before this time. I don’t get any news from old Johnny yet about our wool. I want you to write what you want doe with it. I don’t know of anything more. This from your affectionate husband and friend, as ever, — Wm. Coffin
To Rachel L. Coffin
Letter 5
[Corinth, Mississippi] July 7th 1863
Dear wife,
I now take my pen to write you a few lines in answer to yours of the 1st which I have just read. I am well as common and I hope when this reaches you it will find you and the children well. Tell them Copperheads when they are calling us all thieves that we are proud of the name in the place of being called Copperheads. We are working to put down the rebellion and if taking their property will weaken them, I say go in on it. I have never done anything yet that I am ashamed of. I have took in a few hogs and sheep and once in awhile a chicken, and I wouldn’t think I was a loyal man if I didn’t do all I could to starve them out.
It is a little cooler today than it has been for a few days. There was two of the Kansas 7th [Regiment] shot yesterday while gathering berries about two miles from camp and this morning just at daylight Co. H was attacked where they were stationed 3 miles east of here guarding the mule corral. There was about 550 of the rebs and they had them completely surrounded before they knew they were there. The pickets fired at them but they dashed in and the pickets was so close to camp that it didn’t hardly give our boys time to get their clothes on till the rebs was right among them. Still the company formed in lines and give them a round or two when the rebs surrounded them and was closing i non them. Capt. Loomis told his boys to take care of themselves the best they could—that it was impossible to get out of there all together. Some ran half a mile across an open field and made their escape but 27 men and the captain surrendered. The captain had his wife with him and they was staying in a house close by. He put on his soldier pants, a bluish coat and an old white hat and took a gun instead of his sword to fight with so it is hoped he will be paroled as a private as he had nothing on to show that he is an officer. He is a splendid captain and spunk to the backbone but he had no chance to fight—he was so completely surprised. The rebs took all the miles out of the corral which amounted to three or four hundred but they was run down mules, put there to be recruited up.
Our boys killed one lieutenant and one private and wounded one lieutenant and three privates. they had one man wounded pretty severe in the calf of his leg. We don’t know how many wounded they carried away. Two of their wounded was found 2 miles from camp. All the cavalry force that was here was after them in an hour after they left. Mules have been coming back all day which signifies that our men are crowding them. Probably we will hear something about how they come out by morning and I will write it then.
Clark Bringham was taken is all the one that you was acquainted. I guess there was one of Swallow’s boys taken. I don’t know much about the furlough business. It is reported that Vicksburg is taken and I reckon they will give furloughs again. Our Captain has a very polite request to resign his office. He has 30 days to fix up things in and I don’t expect we will get much favors while he has command. We are going to give him a chance to resign and if he don’t do it, we will find some other way to get him out. We don’t like him any too well at best, but the trouble is he has been drunk several times in the last three weeks. The Fourth he was so drunk he couldn’t navigate. We don’t propose to patronize such conduct at the company expense. If we should ever get into an engagement with the rebs and him drunk, it might be a dear thing to us. Price will take his place. The Capt. never drunk any of any consequence till lately.
Tell granny I would like to see her very well. Tell her I would like to send her a present but I don’t know of anything that I could get that could be sent in a letter. I will quit for this time and write some to father and mother. I remain your husband as ever, — Wm. Coffin
Letter 6
[Three miles north of Kingston, Georgia] May 20, 1864
Dear Wife,
I this evening take my pen to write you a few lines. I am well at present and hope this may find you all well. I wrote some to you yesterday but we have to move before I got through writing and as I have a chance today, I thought I would write a little more for fear I don’t get a chance soon again.
We are now camped three miles north of Kingston on the railroad. The cars have been running through here today. They have been running bridge timber, railroad hands, &c., down below to repair the road ahead. We are laying over here today to work and clean up a little. I think we will take Atlanta in less than a month if we have no bad luck. Everything looks to be working as well as could be desired.
You wanted to know what I thought of the war. I can tell you I think we will clean them out pretty soon. I don’t think they can stand two months more like the last two weeks has been. The prisoners say that they hain’t any as strong places as some they have lost. It looks to me as though they had got discouraged and afraid to risk a general engagement anymore. They have Georgia, South Carolina, and Texas troops to cover the retreat. They don’t dare to put Tennessee, Kentucky, or any of their northern troops in the rear for fear they will come over to us.
What dead and prisoners I have seen seem to be pretty well clothed and their haversacks well filled with corn bread and meat (their turds along the road looks like coon turds in roasting ear time. There is a good deal of brand mixed in).
I wrote to Anderson to send you your part of the wool the first opportunity. I want you to keep the children going to school. D all you can on interest in their teacher. Tell granny I am glad to hear that she is well. I would be very glad to see her once more. I still feel in hope it won’t be long till we all get to go home. We may have to serve our time out but I don’t think so at the present. I will quit for this time and write some to mother. I remain your ever well wishing husband, — Wm. Coffin
I could not find a war time image of Henry but here is a gemtype of Cyrus C. Gibbs who served in Co. C, 40th Wisconsin Infantry (Jim Rivest Collection)
The following letter was written by Henry Clark Alverson (1843-1920), the son of William Alverson (1811-1898) and Rhoda Snow (1820-1888) of Beloit, Rock county, Wisconsin.
Henry served as a private in Co. B., 40th Wisconsin Infantry—a 100 days regiment organized in the summer of 1864. Henry enlisted on 17 May 1864 and was promoted to commissary sergeant on 8 August 1864. He mustered out of the service on 16 September 1864 at Milwaukee. After the war, Henry relocated to Des Moines, Iowa, where he got into the insurance business.
The duties of the regiment included garrison, railroad guard and picket duty around Memphis. They did participate in repulsing the Confederate attack on Memphis in late August 1864.
Transcription
Addressed to Mrs. Rhoda Alverson, Beloit, Rock county, Wisconsin
Headquarters 40th Regiment Wisconsin Vols. Camp Ray [Tennessee] July 14, 1864
Dear Mother,
I thought I would wile away a few moments in writing to you . I am as well as usual and so are all of the men in our company except a very few who are troubled with the summer complaint which is as common as negroes. We had lost one man when I wrote you before and we lost another the same night that I wrote to you, and there are a good many that are pretty sick now and some of them are dangerous. But for our company, they are the best appearing company in the regiment and they can stand more duty than a great many companies for some reason or other.
Our detail for guards and pickets is very near half of our effective force. I think there is not much danger of our moving away from here at present for we are doing just what we enlisted for. But it makes a good many of the boys growl to have to be on picket every other day and night. If they won’t give us anything to do than what we have done so far, I think there is not much cause to complain.
Mother, I tell you that they have a right smart chance for women down here in this God forsaken country. They way these women can just get up and curse a Yankee is a caution to Northern soldiers. They will take a stick and bottle and have the bottle filled with snuff, dip the stick in the snuff, and then chew it, and spit worse than old Goodwin. 1 Oh! deliver me from ever living in this country after this war is over, which I think is not closed yet by a great many dozens.
We have very bad news from Maryland and thereabouts. Charlie got a letter from Ira last night. Ira is having a tip top time and wrote Charlie a large letter of advice and so forth. A good many of the boys are getting boxes from home and I thought if you got a chance to send a little dried fruit, it would be very acceptable. We have a good many blackberries now but they charge the awfullest price for everything to buy. But I must close for it is most time to deliver the fresh beef to the regiment.
Regards to all, — H. C. A.
Ask George Haight if he ever got my letter and if he did, why he don’t write. I will just boot him when I get back. I have heard from Nelson and from Madison and from York State and from several in the neighborhood and they all seem to be having a good time as well as we.
Did you get the picture I sent of cousin Ellen Snow and the enrolled men of our company? If you did, I wish you would just state it for my benefit. Please answer this as soon as you receive and oblige your son, — H. C. Alverson
to Rhoda Alverson
1 “According to numerous observers of the time, the most distinctive characteristic that set apart many Southern women from their Northern sister’s was their fondness for tobacco. Time & again, Federal soldiers commented about encounters with snuff-dipping or pipe-smoking women & girls in the Confederacy, & the habit occasionally prompted remarks from regional sources as well.” [Source: The Social Dip: Tobacco Use by Mid-19th Century Southern Women]
The following postwar letters were written by George M. Alverson (1847-1876), the son of William Alverson (1811-1898) and Rhoda Snow (1820-1888) of Beloit, Rock county, Wisconsin. Being too young to serve in the Civil War, George enlisted in the US Regular Army on 19 June 1866 when he was 19 years old. He served three years in the 1st Infantry and was mustered out of the service in June 1869 at Fort Wayne, Michigan.
George’s overtly racist remarks will be difficult for many Americans to read today but he merely expressed what was felt by an overwhelming majority of white Americans who had been raised with the widely held belief that blacks could not be anything but ignorant “mokes”—as George called them—and therefore incapable of assuming the roles of American citizenship. His letters remind us how wide the breach was between harmonious race relations in the post-war era.
After his stint in the army, George relocated to Eureka township, Greenwood county, Kansas, where he took up farming. There was one black family that lived in the same township as George in 1870 which is surprising given his vow to “go where I will never see another nig if I have to go to China or Iceland.” The racial diversity in Eureka township remains 100% white to this day (though there are only 264 inhabitants).
Letter 1
One of the many important rights that African Americans pursued after emancipation was voting, seen in this image during the 1867 election in New Orleans. The streets are filled with African American men of varying statuses as they utilize their new found freedoms at the ballot box. African American men maintained that their manhood and military service during the Civil War justified their rights as citizens, including and especially the right to vote. Even with the passage of the 14th and 15th amendments that secured African Americans’ status as citizens and black men’s right to vote, the post-Reconstruction era challenged and briefly negated the gains that has been made for black rights after the war.
Sailors Home New Orleans May 21st 1867
Dear Folks at home, dear Mother,
I received your kind letter in due time and was glad to hear from you. I am well and feeling first rate as my picture will indicate to you. I want you to understand that is a “Yankee Soldier”—all the way from the North. Well, I had 3 or 4 of them taken just for the fun of the thing to see how they would look. I will have some taken in July with a different tog on altogether. Perhaps you will like them better, but then this one that I send you “is me all over.”
Since I last wrote you we have had a grand display of military. They got the 1st Regiment all together and G Co. of the 6th Cavalry and Battery K, 4 pieces of artillery, and then we marched through the City in full uniform—infantry in front, cavalry next, and then the artillery next. “Splendid display.”
Arthur Goss is well as usual & lazy, &c. like myself.
It is astonishing to a white man to see how things are carried on here in this city. They have erected a stand in the center of Lafayette Square where they have speaking by these nigger-loving pups from the North. They come here and get up there and tell them—the nigs—that they are just as good as a white man, Mr. [William D.] Kelley 1 of Pennsylvania told them if they was not white men enough for office, elect the colored white man, and so on—the “black louse.” And there is Senator [Henry] Wilson [too]. 2 He is another one of the speakers. There will be fun here yet, I hope. The next thing that will be up will be to get the white man equal to the black man. Such is life. I’ll tell you one thing, when my time is out, I am going where I will never see another nig if I have to go to China or Iceland. So much, so good.
Charlie Stoddard seems to be raising in the world. Does Willie Harner stop with him yet? Well, I have wrote you a long letter so I will close. Regards to enquiring friends. Yours as ever. — G. W. Alverson
Co. A, 1st US Infantry, New Orleans, La.
Be careful not to let any of the girls fall in love with my picture. It would be a great catastrophe.
Published in the Southwestern, Shreveport, Louisiana on Wednesday, 22 May 1867
1 William Darah Kelley (1814-1890) was an abolitionist, a friend of Abraham Lincoln and one of the founders of the Republican Party in 1854. He advocated for the recruitment of black troops in the American Civil War, and the extension of voting rights to them afterwards. He served as a Republican member of the US House of Representatives for Pennsylvania’s 4th Congressional District form 1861 to 1890.
2 Senator Henry Wilson’s opposition to slavery drove him to enter politics. “Freedom and slavery are now arrayed against each other,” he declared in 1844. “We must destroy slavery, or it will destroy liberty.” In 1855 the Massachusetts legislature elected Wilson to the Senate where he joined the new Republican Party. Wilson influenced Civil War legislation as chairman of the Military Affairs Committee and continued to call for the abolition of slavery. In April 1862 Congress passed and the president signed the DC Emancipation Act, originally written by Wilson, freeing slaves in the nation’s capital. Wilson introduced the first post war civil rights bill in 1865 and influenced Congress’s passage of constitutional amendments to guarantee citizenship rights to African Americans. Elected vice president in 1873, he became ill shortly after taking office and died on November 22, 1875.
Letter 2
Sailors Home New Orleans June 16, 1867
Dear Folks at Home,
Sunday! It is so quiet and raining, I thought I would scratch a few lines home. I am well as usual at present. I got those papers you sent me. The Beloit paper looked like home and to read over the advertisements it was very interesting to me. I would like to get some more of them when it comes convenient to you.
One year ago today, where was I? “That’s whats the matter—and more too.” When I think of it, it don’t seem as though it had been a year [since I enlisted] but then it must be. I wished the other two years were in but I don’t know but that I am just as well off here as anywhere. There is 14 men that will be discharged in July out of my company. It will make our company look different. They are all old fellows that have served 8 to 13 years and as high as 18 years.
Well, there is not much news here. The nigs have quieted down some. They have got about a dozen on the police. I saw one or two. They are as black as the “ace of spades.” They are putting on a good deal of style. There was 8 or 10 going around yesterday with clubs picking up goats in the streets for the pound. They was coming down by our quarters with about 40 boys a pelting them with stones and as they got under my window, I let a pailful of water on to their heads—the nigs—to cool them, and such hollering I never heard by the citizens. The best of it was no one knew who it was.
I will draw this letter to a close. Yours as ever, — G. M. Alverson
Co. A, 1st US Infantry, New Orleans
Love to Carrie. Write soon and papers.
Letter 3
Addressed to Mrs. R. Alverson, Beloit, Wisconsin
Sedgwick Barracks Greenville [Louisiana] July 6, 1868
Dear Mother,
I received your kind letter in due time and was glad to hear from you again. I am enjoying as good health as I ever did in my life. I think now that I would have just as good health here as anywhere in the world.
We have been on the stir for the last week all the time. We were called out to quell a riot (or would have been if’n we had not went down there) at the Mechanic’s Institute where the Legislature and Senate are sitting. They did not like the looks of the Lieut. Governor [Oscar Dunn] 1 of the State. He is as black as a pot. Half of the members are niggers. Just think of having an old moke that ought to be on a plantation over you.
We have to furnish two (2) companies of our US every day to guard them so they will not get disturbed by citizens while they—the mokes—are making laws for the state. Oh! it is awful. I never thought that I would ever see such things. I have heard Mr. Chreiton and Father talk of such things but I didn’t think it would happen.
The Fourth of July is over once more. We paraded the streets of New Orleans and were reviewed by Gen. Buchanan and returned home. Had a very good dinner. I think I shall have a better one next fourth if I have my health. I should think Mr. Potter was crazy of moving his family to California. By the way, I wish that I would get discharged there. I think I should stay there awhile.
You were speaking about Nathan Brazier’s being dissatisfied when he enlisted. I know that he was and so is every man in the service excepting those that have always been in the service and always expect to be in it. If father had used me right the winter before I left home, I would not be here—that is certain. But it is past now. It rains every day.
Your affectionate son, — G. M. Alverson
Co. A, 1st Infantry, Greenville, Louisiana
1 Oscar Dunn (1822-1871) was born into slavery in New Orleans. Though his father was freed by his owner in 1819, because his mother was a slave, so too were all of her children. Running for lieutenant governor, Oscar Dunn beat a white candidate for the nomination, W. Jasper Blackburn, the former mayor of Minden in Webster Parish, by a vote of fifty-four to twenty-seven. The Warmoth-Dunn Republican ticket was elected, 64,941 to 38,046. That was considered the rise of the Radical Republican influence in state politics. Dunn was inaugurated lieutenant governor on June 13, 1868. He was also the President pro tempore of the Louisiana State Senate. On November 22, 1871, Dunn died at home at age 49 after a brief and sudden illness. He had been campaigning for the upcoming state and presidential elections. There was speculation that he was poisoned by political enemies, but no evidence was found. According to Nick Weldon at the Historic New Orleans Collection, Dunn’s symptoms were consistent with arsenic poisoning: vomiting and shivering. Only four out of the seven doctors who examined Dunn signed off on the official cause of death, suspecting murder. No confirmation was made because Dunn’s family had refused an autopsy.
From an article published by Nick Weldon entitled “Political poisoning?”
Letter 4
Sedgwick Barracks Greenville [Louisiana] August 4, 1868
Dear Mother,
I received your kind letter in due time and was very glad to hear from you again. I am enjoying good health at present—as good as I ever did in my life. The weather is quite cool. Yesterday the thermometer at 3 o’clock a.m. was 81. That is about the average. It rains every day and that is what keeps it cool I suppose.
A Democratic Party Campaign Ribbon from the Presidential Election of 1868
This new drink they have got up is a good thing they say. It is called “Butler’s Punch.” You stir it up with a spoon, squint one eye, drink it down, put the spoon in your pocket, and you go. Refreshing! 1
Since I wrote you, another affair took place which resulted in the death of another one of our number. July 24th I was on guard. On the main guard there was some difficulty between two of the prisoners and finally one of them was stabbed in the side so that he died from the wound. As yet there is no sickness among us this summer.
Potter, I think, done very foolish in undertaking a trip to California. Uncle John will be a rich man in a few years if he keeps on. Tell Aunt Becky I hope I shall see her inside of another year….
From your affectionate son, — G. M. Alverson
Co. A, 1st Infantry, Greenville, La.
Hurrah for Seymour & Blair—the White Man’s Choice!
1 More likely a popular New Orleans joke than a new drink. Those familiar with the cross-eyed “Spoons” Butler will appreciate the humor. Others will not.
The following letters were written by 21 year-old Detroit native Henry Martyn Duffield (1842-1912), the son of Rev. George Duffield (1794-1868) and Isabella Graham Bethune (1799-1871). Henry attended public school in Detroit, the University of Michigan and Williams College. He married Frances Pitts (1844-1906) on December 29, 1863. It was to his wife “Fannie” that he wrote both letters.
Duffield entered service in the Civil War on September 10, 1861 as a private. He was soon promoted to the post of Adjutant in the 9th Michigan Infantry. He was made acting Assistant Adjutant General of the 23rd Brigade on March 18, 1862. Duffield was taken prisoner at Murfreesboro, Tennessee on July 13, 1862. He was exchanged on December 3, 1862 and returned to his regiment. He commanded the mounted Provost Guard for the 14th Army Corps from June to August, 1863. Duffield was wounded in action at Chickamauga, Georgia on September 30, 1863. He was made acting Provost Marshal General from February to May, 1864 and Assistant Provost Marshal General for the Department of Cumberland from May to October, 1864. He was discharged at the end of his service on October 14, 1864.
Duffield returned to Detroit and his law practice. He was an active Republican and took part in politics at every level but did not seek office. In 1898, Colonel Duffield volunteered for the military service and was commissioned Brigadier General. During the Spanish American War, he participated in the siege of Santiago. While in Cuba, he contracted yellow fever and recovered after many months of nursing care. In 1903, he was brevetted the rank of Major General.
Both of Duffield’s letters describe surviving not one, but two separate train accidents while returning from a Veteran’s furlough to the battle front in February 1864 reminding us of the uncertain and precarious state of 19th century transportation.
An 1864 image of rolling stock and roundhouse at Atlanta, Georgia
Letter 1
Addressed to Mrs. Henry M. Duffield, Care of Samuel Pitts, Esq., Detroit, Michigan
I take advantage of a short stay here to drop you a line lest the papers should contain an exaggerated account of the accident we met with here and you might be anxious.
As we nearing the town and only a few rods from the round house, the axle tree of one of the baggage cars broke throwing that car and the two in the rear of it off the track and also breaking the truck of the passenger car in the rear of it, tearing it up pretty badly and smashing the seats and furniture generally. It is a great wonder that no one was injured as we run with three cars off the track for two or three rods the entire length of our very long train. I felt nothing of it but slept right through although the others in the car said they were jerked pretty severely.
Mrs. Bangs and Hull are with us intending to go as far as Nashville, I believe. Sometimes when I look at them, I am selfish enough to wish that my darling was with me but when I think of leaving you alone in such a bleak, miserable hole as Nashville to [ ] backwards, weary, lonely, and down-hearted, I cannot but think that I was right, and that it would be sacrificing your comfort and health to have brought you along with me. You know my sweetest how dearly I should love to have you with me and how desolate and cheerless every place is without you. Notwithstanding, the cheerfulness I tried to put on while parting with you, it seemed as if the light of my life was gone and I went back to my lonely room to pack up feeling as if I must take the next train and again see you. Our time on the cars was so hurried that it cut short our adieus and they did not seem like a real goodbye.
I suppose you must have learned ere this that we did not go on Friday but marched down and were met with orders not to go until Saturday. Saturday morning at 11:00 we started, making very good time. But they have sent for me, and I must go. Goodbye my own sweet wife. May God bless and keep you safe, well, and contented, and soon return me to your loving arms is the prayer of your own, — Harry
Tell mother I received her letter and will answer soon. Did not get the ring.
Letter 2
Mrs. Henry M. Duffield, Care of Samuel Pitts, Esq., Jefferson Avenue, Detroit, Michigan
I fully intended writing to you at Louisville but we passed directly through, not stopping any time at all. I was going to telegraph you of our second railroad accident but the cars ran into the telegraph pole and broke the communication which was not repaired until we got to Jeffersonville and there I telegraphed General Robertson knowing he would publish it and you would feel no anxiety about your waif. It is a wonder that none were killed and so few injured seriously. Seven cars were all broken including the car in which I was which finally brought up on its side sliding us all down into one indiscriminate huddle after jerking and jumping about at a fearful rate. The boys were crowded up with the cars that were overturned and some of which the floors were all stove out and the seats shattered to pieces and yet with two exceptions, neither of which was fatal, there was no one seriously injured. The wreck of the cars though gave me the idea that the majority of those in the car were killed or badly injured.
I thought of you my darling the first idea I had on feeling the car jump and bolt like a vicious horse and was so thankful that you were not in the car with me. I had been feeling lonely all the day and night (the break occurred about 12 at night on the 21st) and wishing I had brought you along with me as Bangs and Hull had their wives. But when I felt the danger we were in, my selfish wishes fled away and I hardly felt the danger we were in. The glad consciousness that you at least were safe at home and that come what might, my darling would not suffer thereby, and much better still be left to me, for the only way I can endure your absence is by recollecting that soon I will no longer be a soldier and separated from you, but a citizen and my own master with no one to tear me away from you and home where you know, my darling wife, my heart longs to be and remain.
Recollect one thing though, my Pet, that if you need me—if circumstances make my absence unendurable, all you need do is send me word and I come. You have the right now to ask of it of me and I have the wish to grant it. Your family may break up or scatter and the now pleasant home circle grow lonely and cheerless, and then it is your husband’s duty to come to you and [ ] you from your loneliness. And you know, my darling, that he will gladly fly to you at your call for his heart is always with you…God knows I would give anything to be with you save the one thing that keeps me away—that is a feeling of duty.
I dined today with Mrs. Irwin and her husband. We shall leave here for Chattanooga tomorrow or the day after. I will let you know of our arrival thre by letter. Give my love to all the family, mother, sisters, and Tom. Keep a brave heart, my darling and trust for the best. you can be assured of one thing to comfort you and that is that I love you if possible better more truly than ever. — Harry
The following letter was written by Andrew Clarkson Dunn (1834-1918), the son of Nathaniel Dunn (1808-1889) and Charlotte Leonard Tillinghast (1798-1838). Andrew’s father was for forty years an eminent educator, being the first principal of the Wilbraham Academy of Massachusetts, and for many years Professor of Chemistry in Rutger Female College in New York city.
Andrew was educated by his father, and commenced reading law at an early age, under the instructions of Edward Sanford, Esq., and also Judge Campbell, of New York city, and for some time taught school at Fordham, New York. In April, 1854, he came to Minnesota, and was admitted to the bar in the autumn of that year, at a term of Territorial Supreme Court held at St. Paul. He practiced his profession for a few months at Sauk Rapids, and then located in St. Paul, where he was in practice for nearly two years.
In the 1860 US Census, Andrew was enumerated in Verona, Faribault county, Minnesota, making a living as a lawyer. He was married on 1 January 1859 to Diana Jane Smith (1836-1913) and they had an 8 months old daughter named Mary born in late 1859. He was living in Winnebago, Faribault county in 1900, enumerated as a 65 year-old lawyer. According to State history, Andrew is credited with having been the founder of the town of Winnebago. He served as Clerk in the House of Representatives (1864-1866) and as a State Representative (1881-1882. His home in Winnebago is on the National Register of Historic Places.
The 1857 Minnesota Territory Census for the County of Faribault. Andrew C. Dunn is enumerated as a 25 year-old White Male, born in New York, and a lawyer by profession. You’ll notice he was also identified as the Assistant Marshall at upper right.
Transcription
Addressed to Nathaniel Dunn, Esq., No. 74 East 23rd St., New York
Benton county, Sauk Rapids, M. T. June 14th 1854
My Dear Father,
I was just lying down here on a lounge in this wild northwest country when the thought struck me that as the ail went out on Friday (day after tomorrow), that I would write you a few lines, thinking doubtless that you would be glad to hear from me. You will see by the above that I am in “Sauk Rapids” now. “S.R.” be it known to you is as yet merely a town in name—a few houses & few people, and the noble Mississippi flowing at our very feet. S. R. is about 100 miles above St. Paul and about 90 above the Falls of St. Anthony by the course of the river, but somewhat nearer by land as the river is very circuitous in its course.
I am now truly in a new country, 90 miles from a doctor, no stores of any consequence, and nothing but log houses with the exception of one. There is, however, and excellent water power formed by the Mississippi falling some 6 feet in a few rods. This water power is what attracted me hither as it is about to be improved, &c. to the amount of $25,000. A hotel, church, &c. built, and fair prospects of a town growing up around. This is also the county seat of Benton county—a rich agricultural county, &c.
I have been at work today at manual labor. I find that I have to take hold with my hands as well as with my profession to succeed in this new country. I am going to help lay out the town here and in return to receive a good building lot worth little now but may be valuable in time. I hope it will. I am in hopes to get some law business to do here, however. Indeed, I have had one suit here already to [ ] before a county justice for which I will receive] 2 or 3 dollars—better than nothing however. I shall have to work here at all kinds of work—harvesting, building, carpenter’s work, &c. I am bound to make it go somehow.
Fort Ripley
I received a letter from Mary & write her by this mail. I wish you would get a late map of Minnesota and I will write you as I think that which will interest you about my trips over the country. The other day I went up to Fort Ripley, the last post on this frontier. It is about 60 miles further up the river than this place. It is built entirely of logs & only intended to awe the Indians. I am within 2 miles of Indian ground & see plenty of Indians of the Winnebago tribe. They disturb no one unless drunk.
While at Fort Ripley (which is in Chippewa country), I enquired about “Copway.” They say he is not a chief of the Chippewa tribe & they don’t acknowledge him as such. They all know him, however. A war party of 30 canoes & seventy warriors passed here in their canoes this a.m. to take “Sioux” scalps. They will not return without them, I know, as the “Sioux” took four of theirs last week.
There is to be a government payment to the Indians (Winnebagos) four miles above here in the course of a week or two. I shall attend it & will write you an account of the proceedings. I have seen 2,000 Indians together in their lodges at their villages 40 miles below here on the Elk River. They are a dirty, miserable race, take them together. The men won’t do a hand’s turn & make the squaws go after & cut wood & do all the labor. I have see the squaws loaded down with tent equipage &c. and the men with their guns or bows and arrows walking leisurely along & seeing them put to it. What a contrast between civilization and barbarism.
Court sits here next week. I may get something to do then. After I have been here six months, I can get some little offices which will help me o live. I want to get Charley out here as soon as I get well started. If I can afford it, I shall come to New York next summer to try and purchase a few law books. Ask Charley if he has done as I requested relative to law books for me. I need some very bad.
Early Benton County Maps gave the town’s name as “Watab” but it was later changed to Sauk Rapids.
Now father, do write me often as I take such pleasure in receiving letters from you. Make them as cheerful as you can as I want encouraging letters so far from home. Tell Mary to get the son, “Do they miss me at home?” & sing it for me. I sing it sometimes here and it makes me sad to think I am so far from home. But all young men that come here do well and I think I can. If you get the map, you will find on it instead of Sauk Rapids “Watab” but it is a late one. You may find Sauk Rapids laid down.
Direct me at Sauk Rapids, Benton county, M. T. Now goodnight, fear father. My love to mother, Lotty, Ginny, and all. Bless them and keep them for me. Write soon. I never have received the letter with the money in it as yet. I fear it is lost.
The following letters were written by Frederick (“Fred”) Mortimer Gale (1839-1934), the son of Julius Collins Gale (1811-1859) and Almira Drury. In the 1850 US Census, the Gale family was enumerated in Lowell, Massachusetts, where 10 year-old Fred’s father was identified as a “peddler.” Fred’s mother having died before he was ten, his father remarried to a woman named Abby S. Emmons in June 1850. By 1856, Fred’s father was employed as the proprietor of the City Hotel in Lowell. When he was only 15 years old, Fred began working as a general store clerk in South Danvers, Massachusetts. After his father passed in 1859, Fred went to live with his uncle in Barre.
In August, 1862, Fred enlisted in Co. I, 13th Vermont Infantry—a nine-months organization. In December 1863, he re-enlisted in Co. E, 8th Vermont Infantry, serving as a private with this regiment until the close of the War. On his first enlistment Mr. Gale was with his regiment when it was transferred to the Army of the Potomac and participated in the battle of Gettysburg. It is said that when his comrade Calvin E. Seaver’s leg was shot off at Gettysburg and the air was filled with missiles of death, and everybody was laying low, he corded Calvin’s leg and stopped the loss of blood.
The 8th Vermont served in the Department of the Gulf under General Banks and then returned north to the Army of the Shenandoah, being engaged at the battles of Winchester, Cedar Creek, and others. Frank was described as “a spare, frail looking soldier, and wore glasses, but he was in every respect a true man, and that kind always made good soldiers. Although not as robust as some of us, he never shirked a duty.”
Fred wrote both letters to his fiancée, Helen (“Nellie”) A. Putnam (1847-1935) who lies buried by his side in the Bronswood Cemetery in Oak Brook, DuPage county, Illinois.
Letter 1
Addressed to Miss Nellie A. Putnam, Johnson, Vermont
Frederick, Maryland August 1st, 1864
Friend Nellie,
Your king letter came to hand tonight. Was pleased to hear from you so soon. I can give you no kind of an idea what we have done since we arrived at Washington. We got there at noon on Wednesday, July 13, and started at once to join the 6th Corps. We marched 3 days and over took them at Poolesville, Maryland. From there we went to White’s Ford in the Potomac and waded across and invaded the “sacred soil”—marched to Leesburg—from thence through Snicker’s Gap, and into the Shenandoah Valley. Remained there in a piece of woods in line of battle till dark when we retraced our steps, marching all night and till 12 o’clock the next day when we reached Goose Creek, 2 miles south of Leesburg.
In that night and day’s march, we waded the Shenandoah river twice and crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains once, making 30 miles. From there we went by easy marches to Chain Bridge near Washington. We expected we were in permanent camp then but remained there only two days when we started on another raid. Left Chain Bridge last Tuesday noon and went to Rockville—thence to Monocacy Junction where we rested on the battlefield ten hours, then marched all night again, through this City and on to Harper’s Ferry. We went three miles from there and camped on the heights. We had hardly got our knapsacks off, however, before orders came to return to Frederick [Maryland]. We started at once and Sunday eve at 5 we reached this camp. This last march from Washington has been a hard one for the most of it has been done in the night. The last few days has been oppressively hot and the men have fell out by dozens. In the five days we have averaged 18 miles each day. It’s no use. I have not seen a line distinctly in the last page and a half and will adjourn till morning.
I never saw so many stragglers in my life as on this march. I verily believe our whole division is not so large as a brigade was when we started. The men are foot sore and worn down. We have marched fast and hard and slow and harder. For you must know that slow marching—that is, where there are frequent stoppages and not time to rest at either—is the hardest of all marching. We have endured fatigue and hunger—heat and dust, and I wish I could say rain, the dust has been so bad. The men generally have been very patient, but there are some who would find fault “even if they were going to be hung.” You think a soldier’s life hangs lightly on me—well we had our holiday service while in Louisiana and it could not be otherwise. But I’m afraid some “impatient words” might have escaped my lips this last march had not a kind Providence blessed me with so sore a mouth I have been glad to keep it “securely closed.” But really, a campaigning life suits me—only I do not like to be pressed beyond endurance. I never have intended to flatter you but only hope my letters may be as welcomely received and cheerfully answered as yours are. A soldier has enough to do to make his lot always pleasant and you have no idea how much cheerful letters assist him.
This war will not always last for all things must have an end. I have strong hopes that one year will settle it. How glorious ’twill be for the nation once more to be free from the horrors of war. Write again soon and direct thus:
Fred M. Gale, Co. E. 8th Vt. Vet. Vols., Washington, D. C.
Letter 2
Summit Point, Virginia February 26, 1865
Dear Nellie;
In my last I wished that the guerrillas would call on us slightly “just for excitement,” and sure enough my wish was gratified before the setting of another day’s sun. It was a bold and well executed affair and not at all creditable to the watchfulness of our pickets. We send out wood choppers every day to cut wood for the use of the camp. They used to take arms but lately in our fancied security, the arms have been left behind. This of course was soon known to every rebel for miles around through the she rebels who are allowed almost free access to our camps. Therefore, it was not surprising that the “Johnnies” came upon the men in the woods unawares and captured some of them. But it is singular that they succeeded in coming up to, and capturing a picket post, and carrying off the mules from a team in plain sight of camp. With many others, I was quietly looking on, saw them gathered around the team, and never dreamed that they were rebels till they started off with their prizes—eleven men, sundry watches, wallets, jackknives, and fourteen mules. To give chase was folly for infantry can’t outrun cavalry anyhow, and it is somebody’s fault that there’s no cavalry here. The female seceshers here enjoyed it amazingly, but I assure you they laughed out of the other corner of their mouths before night, for the news of the fall of the Capitol of South Carolina came in the evening papers and we were willing to offset that against the few mules they took from us.
[On] Washington’s Birthday we had another alarm and the regiment was called out and part held in reserve, the rest sent out scouting, but nothing was accomplished. About one o’clock the General (Davis) called us down to his Headquarters and I guess they—the officers—celebrated the day by the way the liquor flowed. And by the way, the news of the fall of Charleston came in that day and who blames them if they celebrated a double amount. It commenced raining in the afternoon, but the General was not done with us. He wished us to visit an “old friend” who lived some five miles distant and wanted the Band to go along too, so he sent three ambulances after us, furnished a guard of mounted men, and we went. The house was surrounded with a guard of a hundred men from the 47th Pennsylvania, (we were outside the picket line) while we stayed there, and we enjoyed the occasion much, arriving home a little after midnight, “at peace with all the world.”
Friday the news of the occupation of Fort Anderson came in, and on Saturday, Wilmington was ours and the rebels were perplexed as to what the successful Sherman would next do. They seemed to think the Lion in his path, hath proved only a harmless sheep, and one of the Richmond papers in its frenzy to keep up rebel spirits actually declared that the “fall of Charleston was a matter that should inspire cheerfulness rather than gloom.” Oh! ye blind leaders of the blind, when will the scales be removed from your eyes? It is reported in Richmond that Beauregard is crazy. “So mote it be,” for “whom the Gods would destroy, they first make mad.”
Yesterday the choppers were again attacked by guerrillas who captured one man’s gun and hat. We in camp heard it was one of the “band boys” and could think of no one but Warner likely to get caught in that way. So we made “arrangements” to give him a grand reception when he came in. I made a picture of a guerrilla mounted & reaching down for the man’s hat, while the man with a frightened look was passing up his gun. The other boys all had something ready to open on him with, but it turned out that he was not the unfortunate man and we lost all our pains.
You may tell Mr. H. for me—if you please—that we have the satisfaction of knowing that the Northern people are not all cowards, but there are enough left yet who are willing to “fight it out on this line” till the rebels are annihilated and their northern allies if need be. And that rebels cannot bully the people into submission to their terms if they could the “dough face” representatives in Congress a few years ago. When peace comes, it will be to a regenerated land. I can write but a few words more and those words shall be the expression of my affectionate regard for the best of my friends and the purest of her sex. Always remember me as kindly as ever, — Fred
The following letter was written by Franklin (“Frank”) Garland who enlisted at the age of 19 on 20 November 1861 as a Landsman in the US Navy. He was later promoted to a Paymaster’s Steward and then mustered out of the Navy on 10 December 1864. He was initially on the receiving ship USS Ohio but then assigned to the USS Commodore, a side wheel steamer built in New Orleans and fitted for service with the West Gulf Blockading Squadron. She was renamed the Fort Gaines on 1 September 1864. He may have possibly served aboard the USS Portsmouth as well.
Frank was the son of Leonard Sawyer Garland (1815-1876) and Elmira H. Whitcomb (1817-1880). He was the eldest of several children the next oldest being Ann (“Annie”) Elizabeth Garland (1844-1936) whose name appears on this envelope. Frank was described in Navy records as standing 5′ 8″ tall, with hazel eyes and brown hair.
Transcription
Addressed to Annie Garland, Newington, New Hampshire, Ships Letter
US Steamer Fort Gaines New basin off New Orleans, La. September 28th [1864]
Dear Mother,
I now seat myself to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well as usual and I hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same happiness. I received a letter that you wrote to the Captain of the Portsmouth. He opened it and then sent it to me. You say that you haven’t heard from me since June but I can’t see into that for I wrote to you in July & August. They must have got miscarried somehow. I am very sorry because it only made you worry about me for nothing.
I wrote to Annie not long ago. I don’t see where all my letters go to. I wrote in my last letter for my clothes to wear home if they are fit to wear. My time is out now in a little while and then I will be a free man once more which I never was yet.
You said something about the colt in your last letter. Tell father to not keep him on my account for perhaps I would never want to use him. Please send my over coat if nothing more as I can’t get one here short of $25. I will draw to a close now as I have nothing more very interesting to write. So goodbye. From your son, — Frank
By the way, please direct to the U.S. Steamer Fort Gaines of N. Orleans, La. Our [vessel’s] name has been changed by order of Admiral Farragut.
I could not find an image of Thomas but here is a cdv of Edward F. Possen who was a corporal in Co. C of the 152nd New York Infantry (Photo Sleuth)
The following letters were written by Thomas Richard Petrie (1841-1923), the son of Robert Petrie (1808-1873) and Margaret Harter (1816-1906). He wrote all four of his letter to Gertrude Emily Sanders (1842-1924), his future wife.
Thomas was 21 years old when he enlisted on 5 September 1862 as a corporal in Co. F, 152nd New York Infantry. He was promoted to a sergeant on 11 February 1863 and mustered out of the service on 13 July 1865. For a couple of weeks during August 1864, Thomas served as the First Sergeant of his company.
The 152nd New York Infantry was recruited in the counties of Herkimer and Mohawk and mustered into the U. S. service on 15 October 1862. The regiment left on the 25th and was stationed in the defenses of Washington until the succeeding April, when it was ordered to Suffolk and assigned to Terry’s-brigade, Corcoran’s division, 7th corps. After sharing in the defense of Suffolk, it served under Gen. Keyes on the Peninsula and in July was ordered to New York city during the draft riots, remaining there until October, when it joined the Army of the Potomac and was assigned to the 1st brigade, 2nd (Webb’s) division, 2nd corps. In this command it shared in the Mine Run campaign, being engaged at Robertson’s tavern. In the Wilderness campaign it fought in Gibbon’s division, 2nd corps and was active in all the series of battles ending with the surrender of Lee at Appomattox. Its heaviest losses occurred at the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, North Anna river, Cold Harbor, first assault on Petersburg, Weldon railroad, Strawberry Plains, Reams’ station and Boydton plank road. Its losses during the whole campaign amounted to a total of 303 killed, wounded and missing. Its last battle was at Farmville two days before Lee’s surrender.
Letter 1
Addressed to Miss Gertrude E. Sanders, Eatonville, Herkimer Co., New York
152nd Regt. New York State Volunteers, Col. L[eonard] Boyer Company F, Capt. David Hill Camp Marcy, Va. January 11th 1863
My Darling Betrothed,
Again it is Sunday and I find myself as usual writing to my distant and much loved friend. I often think and ask myself the question why do I write so often and the only definite answer that I can give is that it is a pleasure to me. I said the only answer I could give was that it was a pleasure to me but it is not only that, but I think and trust it is also a pleasure to you to receive and peruse my letters, no matter how often. I have good reason for thinking so too, judging from what you have written from time to time. And besides, I know it is a pleasure for me to receive a line from you no matter how often, and I know of no reason why it should not be as great a pleasure to you. But if I should trouble you too often, please make it manifest, will you?
Hank has got supper ready and I must adjourn. We are going to have an oyster soup.
Sunday eve. Again I have taken up my pen to finish my letter. Gertie, you do not know how hard it is for me to write a letter. If it was anybody else but you, I could not write as often. But if my writing is poor and my composition is still poorer, I think and trust that my friend and companion of former times will not criticize my letters too closely. And if she does, I hope will excuse all imperfections.
Then Git [Gertie] and the General went to the ball? I could not think why you sent me the mittens until I received your last letter. I did not think when I sent to see my southern friends and neighbors that you would hear of it so soon, but so it is at last. Mr. H. J. H. has accomplished his end. And now you cling to the old stand by. Git, I did not think that was your only refuge. If I judge rightly, you did not have a very good time at the party. I am sorry to hear it. You did not run over anybody, did you? If you had, I think you would have told me. Your sleighing must have been delightful without any snow. I suppose Heman had those big bells and a two-horse tree and drove up in big style as is his wont.
Git, you may think I am rather dull of comprehension in speaking of that dear old watch after your spelling it such plain letters. It was very plain at first.
Your father wished to know how his friend Mr. [Ebenezer] Pearl gets along. Well, I will tell you. The old fellow is rather bad off. He is sick and has been five or six weeks. Besides, I think he is a little homesick. Today I heard that he was a going to be taken to the hospital. The health of the regiment is not very good in general. 1
It was news to me to hear that Shully Petrie and Lieut. Conern were engaged but there has been stranger things than that happened. Git, you said in your letter that you could hardly bear the idea of my being gone three years. I will say without boasting if you do not see me within three years, you need never expect to see me. This sheet is nearly full. I have a little more spare time and I will take another.
[rest of letter is missing]
1 Ebenezer A. Pearl was 44 years old at the time of his enlistment. He was discharged for disability on 28 February 1863.
Letter 2
Four miles from Petersburg, Va. Sunday, June 26, 1864
My darling Gittie,
I do not write to you today to only assure you how fondly and dearly I still love you (which you know is the case), but to ease your anxious mind and let you know I am still unhurt and well.
It has been some time since I last wrote. If I remember correctly, it was four weeks ago today. But as my thoughts wander back over those four weeks, it does not seem more than as many days. But what has been accomplished with this great Army of the Potomac in that time? Enough to fill pages in history, and until then it will never be known what was transpiring all along the long lines of our armies.
But Gittie, without giving a detailed account of all that came under my observation, I might relate some few things that I have seen that would make your blood run cold. But I will not do it. I will try and choose some more pleasant subject than relating the horrors of the battlefield.
I see by the Journal & Courier (of which I believe you are a reader) that there was a full description given of the 152nd [New York Infantry] in their first charge upon the Johnnies and what an imperishable name they have won. But Git, there is but few of them left at present to wear the laurels they so nobly won and richly deserve. All there is in the regiment at present is between 90 and 100. The rest are killed, wounded, and prisoners. There was about 50 taken prisoners this week.
As I think of the regiment and then think what if I had been with them, I cannot help but feel thankful that I was so fortunate as to be detached from them in this great and trying struggle—not so much for myself do I care, but [for] my darling Gittie. How much anxiety and trouble have you been saved from by my staying where I am and how could I help but feel thankful for saving my dearest friend from care and sorrow.
It is almost the 4th of July again. As I think of it, I can hardly believe it. Still it is so, and we have been celebrating that day for almost two months, both day and night with shot and shell. There is hardly a night passes over without there is an awful fight. To hear the roar of 40 or 50 guns and see the shells as they go shrieking through the air on their deadly missions, and the thousands of muskets as they break at irregular periods upon the midnight air, it altogether makes one of the grandest, still the wildest sight that I ever anticipated.
Gittie, how do the boys feel about the coming draft? I should think they would sell themselves at present pretty cheap. What think you? I hear that Minerva Searle is teaching school this summer. How does she and Mr. H. L. A. make out? As well as ever I hope.
The weather here has been very warm for the past week and we have not had a drop of rain in 5 or 6 weeks. Lieut. [John W.] Quinby is about returning to school to Fairfield again. He wrote that he thought he would pass near Eatonville and he would be happy to do me any favor in that vicinity I wished him to and he spoke particularly of speaking a good word for me to Miss G. E. S. so if you should happen to see him, you need not be alarmed if he would speak of me.
I am sitting today under the shady branches of a large oak and it is comparatively cool to what it is out in the sun. But how I wish I might change my seat here for one where if only for a few hours—I will leave you to answer where I would like to change this seat for.
Gittie, I have not had a letter from you in more than a month. Why is it? Please write as soon as convenient. Give my respects to all your people and remember me as your most sincere and loving friend, — Thomas
I send you a picture of E[dward] C. Townsend, formerly Orderly Sergeant in Co. F, 152nd. Now captain in Colored Troops [23rd USCT]. He wants I should accept a commission in that branch of the service. What do you think of it?
Letter 3
Burkeville Junction, Virginia April 29th 1865
My dearest friend,
How happy I am this afternoon to be able to sit down and acknowledge myself the recipient of another of your truly kind and loving letters. If your happiness is governed somewhat by my letters and I do not doubt it, whose letters do you suppose mine is governed by? I little expected a letter so soon but must say I was gladly surprised this morning upon the receiving of your letter of the 23rd inst. I must give my friend the praise of doing extremely well in writing so often to her very unworthy friend.
You will see by my last that I had received your letter of the 17th and I might here remark that I thought when you were writing that letter, you was very low spirited and perhaps not in the humor. But I may be doing my friend great injustice in entertaining any such thoughts. If I am, I most humbly beg your pardon. Do not think, Gertie, by my writing as I have, that I mean anything harsh or bad, but only wish to find out your true feelings when writing it. You say in your last in speaking that, “you were not very happy.”
Yes, Gittie, the assassination of our President proved but too true. You ask can the northern soldiers ever look upon the south with the least degree of respect? I think if they were again called upon to fight the southern traitor—Rebel or assassins—whatever they may be called (none of those names being appropriate for them), their watchword would be, “Remember our President!” While they know it was a northern man who held the weapon that killed our much lamented President, they also know and bear in mind that it was treason fired it, and that too approved by J. Davis and more of its leaders in the so-called “Confederate States”—but Confederate States no more. Yes, Gittie, and will but feebly express our grief for our President this particular time. Still, I think his sucessor a very able man and will not show much mercy to Rebels.
Then you are happy in thinking our soldiers will soon get their discharges and peace shall again reign? And if it should prove true, you know of one who would be happy to welcome back her soldier friend and ask me if I can guess who? Now Git, you know I am the poorest hand in the world to guess. So won’t you tell me who that person is? …
[the last two pages may or may not be from the same letter]
…How sad is the fate of our much beloved President. I wish the assassins could be caught and their fate left to be decided with the soldiers. They would meet their just doom in a short time, I will warrant you. His death has caused, I think I may safely say, the most general mourning throughout the land of any person ever known, and it seems so much worse at this particular time when the whole Nation were rejoicing over recent victories and as we thought were about to see the war satisfactorily settled. The Nation and the people, and soldiers, have lost one of their truest friends. And I think the most of them appreciate his worth…
[unsigned]
Letter 4
Headquarters Second Army Corps Richmond, Virginia Friday, May 5, 1865
My Dearest Friend,
At last I have seen the Rebel Capitol and am now within its precincts enroute for home. We broke camp at Burkesville Junction on the afternoon of the 2nd and got here this morning at 9—a distance of 55 miles, and tomorrow morning we start for Washington, another little journey of 140 miles to go on foot—that is, the troops (myself excepted of course). It will take us 12 days from here and I thought I would write my friend a line while here to inform her of our whereabouts. It is thought we shall be mustered out of service as soon as we arrive in Washington. What a pleasant thought—a day that we have long been looking for.
I am going over into the city as soon as I finish this letter to see some of the principal buildings such as Castle Thunder, Libby Prison, Spottswood Hotel, and the Rebel Capitol, and whatever else may come in my way. So if I am either brief in my remarks this afternoon, my friend I am sure will excuse me for our time is short here. You will not again hear from me until we arrive in Washington and then I will write soon after our arrival. With the thoughts of soon returning to home and friends, our journey will be very much lessened of its hardships. It hardly seems like reality on come home soon, but it is the prevailing opinion that we will all be home by the 4th of July and perhaps sooner.
Well, Gittie, please excuse lead pencil writing and all mistakes, and with kind regards to all inquiring friends and with a (goodbye kiss) and much love, I remain as ever yours and yours truly, — Thomas R. Petrie
A cdv of Lewis Josselyn, Co. K, 38th Massachusetts Infantry, taken in Baton Rouge in 1864 (Michael Cunningham Collection)
This letter was written by Lewis Josselyn of Co. K, 38th Massachusetts Infantry. Lewis was a shoemaker like his father when he enlisted at the age of 20 to serve three years. He was mustered out of the service on 30 June 1865 at Savannah, Georgia.
In the 1860 U.S. Census, 17 year-old Lewis was still residing at the home of his parents, Cyrus Barker Josselyn (1814-1898) and Elizabeth Barker Bates (1811-1885) in Hanover, Plymouth county, Massachusetts.
Lewis wrote this letter from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, while the 38th Massachusetts was attached to the 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, 19th Army Corps, Department of the Gulf. A few weeks later, the 38th participated on the ill-fated Red River Campaign.
See also: Lewis Josselyn, Co. K, 38th Massachusetts (letter dated 11 December 1863) Lewis Josselyn, Co. K, 38th Massachusetts (letter dated 16 February 1864)
Transcription
Baton Rouge [Louisiana] March 9 [1864]
Dear Mother, &c.
We had a terrible thunder shower last night. Sometimes it would sound as if forty thousand cannon were fired off at once, it was so hard. It has not cleared off yet and is now very dark and rainy. I tell you what, it don’t know how to rain in Massachusetts as it does here. When it is a mind to, it comes down in perfect floods. One would think the bottom of the washbowl had come out and all was coming down on us at once.
I got another letter from you this morning and one last week. I did not write an answer to that one for I had just put a letter in the office for you this morning. I did not expect one again this morning, but I was going to write today or tomorrow whether I had one or not. I am glad that Edith and all of you are better again and I wish I could write the same. I for one am as well as can be, but Eli he gets along rather poorly. He has been quite unwell since I wrote last. The first of it, he thought it was the medicine he was taking for his diarrhea that made him feel so bad, and it might have been that. Anyway, he is far from well. Lime is some better of his sore throat than when I wrote before, but it is not well yet. Mark, I guess, feels quite smart now. I don’t ever think to ask him how he is for he is round carrying on as much as he ever is, if not more. You know he was always more quiet than Lime was.
Last night Butt and I went to a show that is now here for a few nights. It was a Polyorama (they call it) of the war from New York. It was paintings the same as a panorama or I could not see any difference in it. It was the best show of the kind that I ever saw. The paintings were as natural as life. One of the pieces was a fight between the Monitor and Merrimack. It first showed the Cumberland (the one that Hugh was in) and Congress in the Hampton Roads rocking in the water. The waves looked as if it was the sea itself. Then in steamed the Merrimack, going up to the Congress as if to run into and sink her, but the Congress then was aground and she dare not venture up to her, so she turns upon the Cumberland and runs into her, and then runs back and tries it again, this time making a hole in the Cumberland, and she sinks, with her colors still flying at the mast.
The Monitor now comes in, and engages the Merrimack. She finally finds the Yankee cheese box too much for her and she has to retreat. As she does so, she fires a shell at the Congress and sets it on fire and is destroyed. This was done the best of anything of the kind I ever saw. I go to the Theatre every few nights. They now have it closed to us and our boys go as guard. I could go every night if I wanted to, but I don’t want to go every night unless they are going to play something pretty good—better than it generally is, for it is a poor theatre.
Yesterday there was quite a fight outside between the rebs and our cavalry. For several days the rebs have been hanging round our cavalry pickets and our cavalry have been out a number of times but could not find them. Day before yesterday they were at the Plantation on which two of our company are stopping as guards and took a mule and a horse, They did not go to the house where they boys are or they would have been taken prisoners, They scared the niggers most to death. There was about twenty-five of them.
Yesterday a Lieutenant and a small squad of cavalry went out and they came on about fifty rebs. The rebs were hid in the bushes and fired on our cavalry, killing the Lieutenant and wounding one. They then sent a messenger right in and the rest of the cavalry went out and two regiments of infantry and some of a battery with muskets instead of cannon. The cavalry caught up with the rebs and took quite a lot of them prisoners and killed a lot, so some say, but there is so many stories aging, I can’t get the truth of it yet. I know they took two for they were brought to the judge’s office and I took them to jail. One of them was complaining all the way up there. He said one of the cavalry struck him on the back with his revolver. I thought it was mighty lucky for him that he did not get a bullet through him instead of a blow. They bother our pickets a good deal by coming up and shooting at them every little while. Our folks had ought to use them a little harder than they do when they catch them for it is not considered fair upon each other’s pickets.
Three days ago our regiment and another went out eight miles to see what they could find. They returned the same day without seeing a reb. It was quite a little tramp for the boys, they not being used ti it lately. I was glad we did not gave to go.
Waltham Sentinel, 29 April 1864
Day before yesterday there was an eating saloon keeper killed here by a soldier. They had a little fuss about something when the soldier drew his revolver and shot him dead. The soldier escaped and has not been found yet. I wsa past the saloon yesterday and the corpse lay in there with four candles lit around him—two at his head and two at his feet as the Catholics always do. It looked kind of queer to see a corpse that way.
George [B.] Oldham has been up to see us since I wrote last but he has now gone back again to New Orleans and from there he is going up round through the Tesche country (we call it where we marched last summer) recruiting for his [USCT] regiment for he has got to get a certain number of men before he can be mustered as an officer. He had on a new suite of clothes—an officer’s suit, and he makes a splendid looking officer.
I wrote you that Lime talked of applying for a commission. He says he does not want the folks to know anything about it so you need not say anything to anyone about it if you have not. He may have given up the notion now.
I wrote you to send some postage stamps some while ago but soon after that I had a chance to buy some do I got a lot—enough to last me a long time. You need not send me anymore unless I write for you to. I hope they will conclude to have a railroad run through Hanover and down round our way as you say there is some talk of, but I am afraid it will turn out more talk than cider for I don’t believe they could make it pay. It would be a mighty fine thing if I could when I come home ride as near home as the old forge in the cars.
We have just had another thunder shower but it was not so hard a one as we had last night. I guess it will now clear off. Everything here now begins to look like spring. All the trees are leafing out and the peach trees have all bloomed and blown off, and I noticed today on a fig tree that had leafed out some small figs.
That man I wrote to you about who is sentenced to be shot is still in the jail, but I don’t hear anything about him now. You ask me if I remember Mr. Morris. I do but he don’t probably me anymore than that I was one of those that were sick in the hospital while he was one of the nurses there. It would be curious if he did for he belonged to a different company and there was a good many in the hospital at the time I was. You say Barker talks of going to Abington again to work. I should think it would be rather lonesome for him to work alone in the shop after he has had company so long. I hope he will be lucky enough to get drafted on this call or any other for I think after this call is filled up, that there will be troops enough in the field to wipe this cursed rebellion out. I sincerely hope so. I believe the rebs will get fits before this summer is out. Someone of our company got up a petition to send to Gov. Andrews to have our 2nd Lieutenant made a 1st Lieutenant rather than have him resign as he talks of doing. Most of the boys signed it and so did I for we all like him as a lieutenant and we would like to have him stay but when he was made a lieutenant, all of the boys would have been pleased enough for him to resign and would have paid something if they could get clear of him that way.
Spared & Shared 23 