107th Illinois Infantry, Construction of Fort Williams, Glasgow, KY

1863: George Messer to Charlotte (Kelley) Messer

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George Messer, ca. 1860. Enlistment records say he had dark hair and blue eyes.

George Messer of the 107th Illinois Infantry was “a good man and a man that I thought a heap of. He was liked in his company and regiment but he is now gone where there is no trouble, no war, nor no fighting. Tell his wife that he is buried nice and was well cared for whilst sick.” So wrote a fellow soldier following the discovery of George’s death from chronic diarrhea late in December 1863 at the Lamar House Hospital in Knoxville, Tennessee.

There is nothing remarkable about George Messer to distinguish him from the thousands of men who answered their country’s call for volunteers to put down the rebellion. He was a simple carpenter from rural Illinois who sought to acquire his share of the American dream — a home to call his own and a loving family to love and support. But his sense of patriotic duty caused him to put those dreams on hold until the rebellion was ended. Unfortunately for George — and the family he left in Illinois — that day did not come before he succumbed to the disease that plagued him throughout most of his term of service. Though he never fired a gun at the enemy, he did not desert nor shirk his duty when he was capable of fulfilling it like several others in his regiment. Though he saw others less qualified than himself rise to positions of leadership in the regiment, he maintained his spirit and did his best to comfort and give hope to those he left behind in Illinois.

George was a devoted husband who wrote faithfully and regularly to his wife during his absence — at least twice a week and sometimes more. His voluminous correspondence provides us with a record of the 107th Illinois Infantry that is rare and reveals the internal machinations and jealousies of the regiment that unit histories do not characteristically reveal. In short, it is a good read.

George Messer (1833-1863) was the son of William H. Messer (1804-1892) and Hannah McClure (1796-1861) of Richland County, Ohio. He had an older sister named Rebecca Messer (1831-1904) who was married to David Bell (1829-1912) in January 1853. Sometime in the late 1850’s, George Messer came to Illinois with his parents and his older sister’s family to settle in Creek Township in Dewitt county. It was here that he met and married Charlotte (“Lottie”) Kelley (1839-1907), the daughter of Alexander Kelley (1813-1882) and Lucinda Anderson (1816-1869). They were married on 27 March 1860 at her father’s resident by John J. McGraw, Justice of the Peace.

George enlisted in Co. F, 107th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry. The letters span the time from his muster into service in September of 1862 until his death at the end of December, 1863. Several years ago I had the privilege of transcribing and publishing 82 letters of the letters that George wrote to his wife Lottie (Charlotte) during his time in the service along with his nephew, William Wesley McNulty. Recently I was sent scans of two of George’s letters from the Early Illinois Collection of Brad Emalfarb with the express consent for publishing them on Spared & Shared. Both letters were datelined from Glasgow, Kentucky, in April 1863 and neither were in the collection of George’s letters I had previously published. The two letters are significant because they both provide descriptions of the construction of Fort Williams, an earthwork fort constructed on a hill just outside of Glasgow. We learn that much of the early earth moving necessary in the construction of the fort was done by impressed enslaved laborers and only when an attack was anticipated in late April 1863 were the entire 107th Illinois enlisted men assigned duty to finish the works by felling trees and laying the abatis that surrounded the fort.

Rather than attempt to add these two letters to that previous webpage, I have posted them here with an active link. To read George’s other letters, see The Civil War Letters of George Messer, Company F, 107th Illinois Infantry.

George Messer’s original collection of Civil War letters.

Letter 1

107th Regiment Illinois Volunteers, Co. F
Camp Hobson, Glasgow, Kentucky
Thursday, April 2nd 1863

My dear wife,

I seat myself this morning to answer yours of the 28th and 29th which I received yesterday evening and I was glad to hear that you was all well and hearty. I still keep hearty and have a stomach strong enough to eat almost anything.

I am out on picket again today and I am sitting on a big Beach log writing. I intended to write to you today and did not expect to have to go on duty again today but our details are very heavy and has come my turn sooner than I expected and I concluded that I would not be fooled out of writing to you like I was last Sunday so I brought portfolio and writing materials along with me and shall put in all my spare time today in writing.

We commenced yesterday morning to dig rifle pits with 40 Negroes that we pressed in around the country and there is 80 Negroes at work today and there will still be more tomorrow. They are going to press in three hundred and fifty and if they work like they did yesterday, we will soon have the fortifications completed and I for one am not sorry that the Negroes are to do the work for I don’t like to work as well as I used to. Still I am heartier and feel stouter than I was for a long time.

You spoke about wanting to know about my chance of promotion. There is but little chance just now. There may be when Capt. Wismer is exchanged and comes back or is mustered out or resigns. I don’t know what he will do or what will be done with him. David Willis has not got any commission yet and I don’t know whether he will get one or not. Either [David] Willis or [William D.] Catterlin will be the 2nd Lieutenant. I think there is another man that is trying to get the place and I would not be much surprised if he gets it. He is very intimate with the Colonel and has it is generally believed a man at home working for him with the Governor. It is nobody else but P[arker] S. Adams. I don’t want you to say anything about what I have said. All the chance that I have is if Catterlin is promoted for me to get up a petition and I can get all the company to sign it except two or three for Orderly Sergeant. I may not get it them but I shall make the effort at least and I think there be nothing dishonorable about it in that way. Those that I speak about that would not sign my petition are ones that want to be promoted themselves. They have nothing against me and they appear to be my personal friends but appearances are very often deceitful.

I get along very well where I am and I chant make any fuss about it if I don’t get any higher. All that I would desire a higher office for would be for the pecuniary assistance that it might afford and at the same time be capable of doing my duty. I don’t want to get promoted to any place that I could not fulfill for that would be worse than having no office at all.

P[arker] S. Adams is sick and has been for three days. He has something like the flux. He was some better this morning. John Graham is not very well. He has a bad cold and sore throat. He is boarding in our mess now. He wanted to get our nigger to cook for him. He could not do that so he turned his nigger off and has come to board with us. We have the best cook there is in camp and he gets up things in pretty good style the most of the time.

I did not send that other novel by A. C. Graham. He was in a hurry to start so I forgot it until after he was gone. I will come home pretty [soon] and bring it myself and I suppose that will do as well and perhaps better than to send it by anyone. I will close for a few minutes.

John Hunt Morgan. Despite claims such as George recorded, Morgan was never wounded until the day he was shot and killed in September 1864.

I am seated again to write some more. We have just heard that our forces have been giving John [Hunt] Morgan thunder. They have shot three of his fingers off and shot him through the left shoulder. I am sorry that they did not hit him about six inches lower down. At any rate, he won’t be able to trouble us very much for a litle while. I understand that the rebels think it is getting rather got for their safety in Kentucky and are getting out as fast as they can and such a thing might be that we will have to follow them, which we can do if it is necessary but as the Dutchman said, I would rather not if it could be helped for I don’t like them and have no desire to have any friendly intercourse with them such as shooting muskets, pistols, and cannon, although if it is my lot to do so, I will try and give them the best turn in the shop.

It is now about noon and I must stop for a little while and eat some dinner for I am hungry every time at meal time and if you could see me eat, you would think I was hungry or had an awful appetite for meat.

I must try and fill this sheet yet but I don’t know what to write about for I wrote you a tolerable long letter and started it to you by Ben Cross last Tuesday morning. I am not certain whether I will get to come home when those return that have went or not. There are several that are talking about going and they have sent for money to take them home. If they have, I may not get to come. I have sunk away in the bottom of my pocket enough to pay my way home at least and if we should leave this place, it may be that there won’t be any chance for anyone to go very soon again.

Some of our boys went down to town the other evening and Mr. Phares, [our wagon master] as they all call him, was along. They were invited into the parlor to hear some music. They played on the violin awhile and some of our boys asked Mr. [Martin] Phares if he could not play a tune or two. He said he did not know [but] he would try. They handed him the fiddle and asked him to play the Arkansas Traveler and some of our boys told him to play it with the variation. He commenced to play and the Kentuckians all began to look cross-eyed at him. He played that and commenced to play some of his family music. When they heard him through, they all acknowledged that they never had heard such music before. So Mart[in] became quite a noted character among them. They thought that our boys were rather green and they did look sort of shabby with their coarse blue clothes on but they were badly cheated when they thought they were about to sell the soldiers and make fun of them. Mart can act the fool as well as anyone and when he takes the notion, there is not many that can get ahead of him. 1

Wesley [McNulty] is well and hearty. He is on the color guard. He was put there for his nice appearance and keeping his gun in good order. West is like he always was, very particular and brushing up all the time—only when he is not writing letters. He got a letter last night from Miss Williams in Sangamon county with her likeness in it. It is a splendid looking picture too. I think that Tom Edwards had better be careful how he goes into danger for Wesley was telling me that he had undertaken to ride his horse that David Bell had bought for West and the horse had throwed him off and broke two of his fingers. I am sorry that Tomis so unlucky. I would rather you would not sell Birt and if your Father want to work her, let him do so. If you get a chance to sell the cows, do so for as much as you can for as you say, they are getting old and are going down hill every year. And if you can keep Birt’s colt, keep it too for with Birt, it may help to make a team if it ever amounts to anything and it may be old enough to work by the time I can get home to stay. But I hope this war will be over and me at home soner than that and I think I will for the war can’t certainly last for two years and a half yet, although it may.

You must not think that you offend me by writing anything that you want to. I know that you have troubles to contend with as well as anyone else and why should I be offended at you for writing to me who you have a right to counsel as well as me to counsel you for each other’s welfare. My darling, you have my love and whole heart in your keeping and there it shall ever remain.

I shall not write much more today and finish in the morning after I go in off picket for it has got so windy that I can’t hardly write and in the morning I may think of something more to write about for I have about run out for today. So for this evening, my darling, I will close hoping you are all well for tonight. My darling, goodbye — George

Friday morning, April 3rd Dear wife, I have just returned from picket and I shall now try and finish my letter. I received a letter from T. Kelley last night dated the 24th of March. He was well and hearty and he tells me that the Copperheads in Illinois had threatened to tar and feather him if he did not stop recruiting. Now if I know Tom as well as I think I do, they would have had a good time of it if they had undertaken it. He is down on the traitors at home with a vengeance.

I must now close for this time for I want to answer Tom’s letter today and I want to do some washing too for tomorrow I will have to drill and today I get to rest. Write to me soon again and send me yours & Eddie’s likenesses if you can get them taken. I must close and I hope you are all well and hearty. Goodbye. I ever remain your faithful husband, — Geo. Messer

To Lottie Messer

1 Mart Phares was a soldier in the Union army during the war, having enlisted at Clinton, and rendered good service. He has been receiving a pension for disability sustained during the war. He went to Lombard University but did not graduate. He had a strong predilection for music, and early began playing for balls. He made music his profession. He played with so much spirit and with such feeling that his execution proved pleasing and acceptable. He was a good caller, having in his palmy days a good, strong voice and was in great demand. For a generation or more he has been associated with an orchestra, either his own or someone else’s. He was looked up to with affection by the other players here. No man has rendered more or better service to the social world here than has Mart. He has directed some of the most brilliant parties ever held in Galesburg. He has played not only for the old but for the children. The violin was his favorite instrument, and who can tell how much pleasure it has given to others under his willing hand. Mart is dead. His favorite is stilled, no more forever to be caressed by his touch. No more will he be seen directing the movements of the dance his face beaming with pleasure. He was known to more men, women and children then any other man here. All called him Mart. He ministered to the pleasures of others, caring little for his own. He was a simple soul. He bore no ill wills. He had a kind and affectionate word for other musicians. No one enjoyed more than he did the concourse of sweet music. He could be seen at every concert of any note, drinking it all down. He was looked up to as a sort of big brother by the younger. He may not have been distinguished; he may not have performed any great deed that will cause his name to go ringing down the corridors of time; but he made life sweet, enjoyable and tolerable to others. Many great men fail to do that. [Source: Obituary, Clinton Public]

Letter 2

107th Regiment Illinois Volunteers, Co. F
Camp Hobson, Glasgow, Kentucky
Sunday, April 12th 1863

My dear wife,

I seat myself this day at [ ] o’clock to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hearty and I hope these few lines may find you all well. Everything is bustle and excitement here now. We are expecting an attack here every day and the whole regiment has turned out to finish up our fort and cut down timber. In two days more we will have our earthworks complete and then we are making an abatis around the outside of the ditch and for fear you won’t know what it is, I will tell you. It is made out of saplings trimmed with the limbs about three feet long and sharped at the points. The trees are placed with the butt towards the ditch and the shgarp points out with dirt throwed in the butt of them to kep them stationery. This is to prevent the Rebels from taking the place by storm. When they come up, they will run against the sharp points of the abatis and give us time to shoot them before they can get through. It is the general opinion of the officer commanding here that we will have to fight them in less than a week and perhaps inside of the next twenty-four hours.

There was a letter intercepted by one of our men from one of the Rebels to his wife in which he said that they would visit Glasgow the 15th of this month for they might as well come here and get shot as stay where they was and starve to death for they had nothing to eat and could get nothing unless they could come into Kentucky to get it. If they come, depend upon it, they will fight with desperation and they will be received with firmness on our part. I expect to get a letter from you this evening and I would wait until tomorrow to send this but the mail may be cut off from us by that time and I want you to know how we are situated here. Still I don’t want to discourage you but you have a right to know the truth, let it be good or bad. I am not alarmed in the least and I don’t want you to be for it may all blow over in a few days and not amount to very much at all.

You must excuse this short letter and poor writing for I have but one hour to write in and then I will have to go to work so I have to write like a horse on a gallop. We commenced to work with the whole regiment yesterday morning and have made considerable show. I have nothing more of importance to write this time and in fact, have not time to write much for my hour is nearly up. I will write to you again in a day or two if there still remains a chance to send letters and if we should have a fight, I will give you the earliest intelligence of the result that I possibly can.

I must now close for today. I send a kiss to you and Eddy. My respects to all. Goodbye. Your ever loving husband, — Geo. Messer

To Lottie Messer

Write often and remember yours, — George

195th Pennsylvania Infantry, Berryville, Virginia

1865: John Myers to his Wife

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The following letter was written by John Myers of Co. G, 195th Pennsylvania Infantry. John enlisted as a private on 18 February 1865 and deserted on 21 November 1865. He mentions Franklin K. Myers (b. 1844) of the same company who also enlisted on the same date and deserted three days before John. I’m not confident but I believe John was from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where many of the men were recruited.

John’ letter was written on stationery with a rate colorized lithographic illustration of the “Camp of the 195th Reg. Pennsylvania Volunteers at Berryville, Va.” Berryville is a few miles east of Winchester in Clarke county, Virginia.

See also the 1865-66 Letters of George W. Fraser who also served in the same company as John Myers. They were published on Spared & Shared in 2018.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Washington
August 18th 1865

My dear wife,

Here I will send you this letter where you can see how we had our camp at Berryville and I will state you how to lay it and you will find my tent. It is the second tent in from the west end in the second street marked with ink and you will find on top of the picture which is the east side and if you lay it down that the end which I have written on is eastward, then it is right.

Further, I want you to come as soon as you possibly can. Start right away when this comes to hand and bring all the money along that [I] have sent you for may you must stay a while with me because if you don’t come soon, then I will desert. And now do so and Franklin Myers wrote home to his wife to come along with you and tell her if she will go along with you then she shall for it is more company to you and don’t forget and come as soon as you possibly can for I wouldn’t like if you would come and we would have left so that you wouldn’t met me here.

Just inquire for G. Street Wharf. I think William Mul can find the place so I must close. I am in a great hurry so that letter will go off yet.

— John Myers

Don’t forget and do so.

Lincoln Assassination

1865: Isaac Smith to Catherine Smith

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The following letter, authored in late April 1865 by a Union soldier encamped near Washington, reflects his anticipation of soon mustering out of the army. He identified himself as “Isack Smith” and directed the correspondence to his wife, Catherine, while also referring to his unnamed “little boy.” Additionally, he acknowledged having received communication from “Peter Larkin’s wife,” though it remains unclear whether the Larkins resided in proximity to the Smiths. Regrettably, due to the prevalence of these common names and a lack of further identifying details, I was unable to ascertain Isaac’s identity. Nevertheless, I have transcribed the letter, as it articulates compelling sentiments regarding the reactions to the news of President Lincoln’s assassination.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Camp near Washington City
April 30th 1865

Dear Wife,

I have a few leisure moments so I thought I would pen a few lines to you. In regards to the good news—Oh how glorious that, and I expect to see you all before long. They all think that we will be discharged very soon. I hope we will. That is my wish. I don’t think that I could make a better one.

I answered your last letter. Tell the little boy that his father will soon be home. I received a letter from Peter Larkin’s wife the other day. They were all well. Her proposal was to me that I was glad that the President was dead but that is not so. I am sorry for him. It is bad but it can’t be helped now for it is too late. We lost a Father when we lost Abraham Lincoln.

We are about 5 miles from the City of Washington. I haven’t one thing more to write. All the news I can give you is this—you can look for me home before long. Give a kiss for me to the little boy. Here is one for yourself. This is from your affectionate husband, — Isack Smith

To Mrs. Catharine Smith

Here is a Soldier’s Dream [The Soldier’s Dream & The Soldier’s Tear lyrics]

1865 Peace Negotiations

1865: Unknown author—“The Love of Home”

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The following letter is dated but unsigned. We only know that the author served in the extensive Army of the James. Based on the evidence present, it is reasonable to deduce that he was likely an officer, as he exhibits a level of education indicative of such a rank. The quality of the pen and writing paper utilized, combined with the evident time taken to compose the letter, further supports this assumption. Moreover, the neatness of the writing suggests that the author possessed a writing desk or table suitable for such tasks and these were generally only carried by officers.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Army of the James
City Point
February 1865

Mother, no word in our language has so deep hold on the heart strings of men as the simple term, Mother, and although we often conduct ourselves in such a manner that we ought not to be allowed to have any mother, yet it is a cruel wrench that can tear her image from our souls, although we may be sin-steeped until our moral nature has lost all traces of the image of Him in whom we are created, yet on memory’s map will be left some of the tracings of a mother’s influence.

I would be most happy this Sabbath morning if permitted to spend it in the society of her who watched over my infancy and has been my best adviser all through life’s journey. Many has been the rock that I have dashed against driving along with passion at the helm, which if I had been content to let mother’s hand guide the bark, I would have escaped. Now, when it is too late, we think of those things. How vast is the number of human wrecks that lie scattered along life’s shore that have been lost for the simple reason that they would not let her, who knew their natures better than they did themselves, guide them, lay miserable failures along the road which, if mother had been minded, might have reached the haven, richly laden with honor and the respect of their fellows with the pleasant consciousness of duty fulfilled, usefulness and self respect.

But moralizing cannot heal the past although I have too often rejected your counsel and am morally wrecked in consequence. Yet you will believe me when saying that there is nothing I can think of would give greater pleasure than to be at your side today and by any means save you from one pang of pain and my hearts desire, prayer, is that I may once more be permitted to see your face in peace and the blessings of peace, felt and appreciated all over our afflicted country.

A transient gleam of hope has for the few days past illuminated our war clouded skies. Men from Washington have visited Richmond. Vice President Stephens of the Bogus Confederacy left City Point for Fortress Monroe on Wednesday to meet Father Abraham at that place to talk the matter over, to see if there is not some way for bringing Peace once more to our land. Mother, the fact of the case is that Peace on any fair terms will be received by the soldiers of either side with transports of joy and thanksgiving. The flag of truce arrived in front of our lines in front of the City of Petersburg where there has not been scarcely a moment for the past six months when shot, shell, and Minié ball has not been flying at the former on either side. Yet the flag of truce was hailed with perfect transport of joy by the soldiers of both armies. The thought that Peace once more would come, then “Home Sweet Home” a happy reunion with the loved ones there so galvanized the boys with delight that shouts of joy rang along the lines, friend and foe joining in the chorus in a yell that would have drowned the thunders of fort.

Well, if she had been playing at the time, it proves that there is one chord that vibrates alike in the Northern and Southern heart and that is the love of home.

8th Maine Infantry, Port Royal Expedition

1861: Richard Fletcher Taft to Ephraim Wales Taft

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I could not find an image of Fletcher in uniform but here is one of Sgt. James Henry Hobbs of Co. H, 8th Maine Infantry. (Andrew Garton Collection)

The following letter was written by Sgt. Richard “Fletcher” Taft (1840-1862) while serving in Co. G, 8th Maine Infantry. Fletcher enlisted at Gouldsboro, Hancock county, Maine, on 7 September 1861 and penned this letter shortly after boarding the steamboat Daniel Webster that would take the regiment from Annapolis to “somewhere south of here but don’t know how far but we shall know when we get there and that is soon enough.” Though he did not yet know it, the regiment was to take part in the Port Royal Expedition. Regrettably, it would be his last ocean transport. He died of typhoid fever on Daufuskie Island on 30 March 1862. He lies buried in a soldier’s grave at the Beaufort National Cemetery, marker 1605.

Fletcher wrote this letter to his parents, Ephraim Wales Taft (1795-1873) and Maria B. Cobb (1813-1885).

For Spared & Shared followers interested in reading more great letters by members of the 8th Maine Infantry, check out those written by Augustus Alonzo Hoit who served as an officer in the same company as Fletcher and was also from Gouldsboro. See: The Smoke of my Rifle transcribed and published by Spared & Shared in 2015.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Annapolis [Maryland]
October 19th 1861

Dear Mother,

I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that we are on board a steamboat and will probably sail south in a day or two. We had orders yesterday noon to pack our knapsacks and be ready to march at a minute’s warning. We marched on down to the Navy Yard and went on board a boat which carried us on board this ship and suppose we shall be landed somewhere south of here but don’t know how far but we shall know when we get there and that is soon enough. I can’t write much now for I am Sergeant of the Guard today and I am on deck and it almost rains so must be short but thought I would write a word or two to let you know where I was for you may not get another letter from me for some time but will write again the first chance.

I got a letter from Maria last night. Was glad to hear you were all well. Maria wrote that some of our company complain of not getting enough to eat. I don’t think I have lost much flesh and as long as I can hold my own, will not say a word. I ain’t afraid of starving. I received a letter from Nat Tyler the other day [but] have not had time to answer it yet. George is well and gets along well. You wrote he said he was coming home but guess he will hardly get there this winter.

I must now close this as I have not time to write more. Give love to all and keep a large share for yourself. From your son, — Fletcher

When you write, direct to Washington and I shall get them from there if anywhere.

97th Pennsylvania Infantry, North Edisto Island

1862: John L. Hosmer to Friend Susie

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The following letter was written by John L. Hosmer (1837-1895) from North Edisto Island, South Carolina, in May 1862 while serving in the 97th Pennsylvania Infantry. He entered the war on 10 October 1861 at West Chester, Pennsylvania, as a private in Co. H but was later made a musician in the regimental band. He was discharged from the regiment on 31 August 1862, having served only 10.5 months, when the War Department ordered the discharge of all Regimental Bands.

 In May 1862, Union forces on the island came from 13 units: First Massachusetts Cavalry, Third Rhode Island Infantry, Captain Hamilton’s Battery of Artillery, Third New Hampshire Infantry, 45th Pennsylvania Infantry, 55th Pennsylvania Infantry, 76th Pennsylvania Infantry, 97th Pennsylvania Infantry, 6th Connecticut Infantry, 7th Connecticut Infantry, 46th New York Infantry, 47th New York Infantry, and Colonel Small’s Engineers. The 55th Pennsylvania was the only regiment to remain when the troops disembarked on June 2 on Hunter’s campaign to attack Charleston which failed when the Confederate won a victory in the Battle of Secessionville on nearby James Island on June 16.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

97th Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers
Camp North Edisto, [South Carolina]
May 4, 1862

Dear Susie,

Your most welcome letter was received last night and I hasten to answer it. I am glad to hear that you are well, and I hope you may enjoy the same blessing for a long time to come. I am very well at present and I stand the hardships of a soldier’s life better than I expected to. We live first rate since we have been here on this island. There are plenty of blackberries, clams, oysters, and sweet potatoes. I have blackberry sauce every meal. You ought to see us, each one with his tin cup a stewing his own cup of berries and we make very good sauce too, if we only had a little more sugar to put in it.

It is very warm down here in the middle of the days, but it is right pleasant in the morning and evening. I do not know how we will stand it through the summer for it will get very hot about July and August, but we will have to worry through somehow or other.

There is one of the prettiest places here that I ever saw. I wish you were here to wander with me through the splendid garden and handsome grove of the Seabrook mansion. The garden is filled with the most beautiful flowers of all kinds. Enclosed you will find one of the small roses which I pulled from a bush in the garden. Susie, wish I could send you a bouquet from this beautiful garden. The man that owns it is in the Rebel army. What a pity it is to have to leave such a place. That is the fruits of being a rebel.

Union troops occupying the grounds of John Seabrook’s plantation on Edisto Island.

Susie, you spoke of me leaving your likeness in the deep blue sea. If it had been the original that fell in, I would have went to the bottom with you.

We have not had any fighting to do yet, but I do not [know] how soon we may have some to do. Pickets were fired on last night but no one was hurt. Hillary is well at present and sends his love to you.

Well I must cut this short as it is time to play Tattoo. Give my best respects to all. Susie, I received a letter [from] Hannum Baldwin about two weeks ago, and one from Morris about four weeks ago. Now Susie, please write to me again soon and oblige yours ever, — J. L. Hosmer

44th Indiana Infantry, Battle of Stones River

1863: Samuel Andrew Baker to Nancy E. Baker

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I could not find an image of Samuel but here is one of David E. Brallier (1841-1928) of Kosciusko county, Indiana. He served in Co. B, 44th Indiana Infantry (sometimes under name Brawlier). He enlisted on 22 November 1861 and mustered out at Chattanooga on 14 September 1865. (Ancestry.com)

This letter was written by Samuel Andrew Baker (1844-1865) while serving as a private in Co. E, 44th Indiana Infantry. He enlisted in October 1861 when he was 18 years old. At his enlistment, he was described as a 5’5″ tall, blue-eyed, blond-haired carpenter. He was the son of Joseph W. and Hulday (Convers) Baker of Columbia City, Whitley county, Indiana. Columbia City is about 20 miles WNW of Fort Wayne, Indiana.

He was promoted to a corporal in December 1864 but on 30 January 1865, he was killed in an accident when the train car he was riding in on the way to Athens, Alabama, from Nashville, ran off the track and was smashed by another car. Samuel was the only one killed though five others were wounded. This was on the Knoxville & Chattanooga Railroad near Cleveland, Tennessee. [Source: The Iron Men of Indiana’s 44th Regiment by Margaret Hobson]

Samuel wrote the letter to his older sister, Nancy E. Baker (b. 1842), a school teacher in Columbia City.

Samuel’s Find-A-Grave includes a letter by Baker written from McMinnville, TN, on 26 July 1863. This letter is archived in the Special Collection (online) at the University of Tennessee along with another one written on 28 January 1862 from South Carrollton, Kentucky.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Camp 44th Indiana Volunteers
Near Murfreesboro, Tennessee
January 21st 1863

Dear Sister,

I take the present opportunity of writing you a few lines to let you know that I am well hoping the same to you. It has been stormy and wet for a bout two weeks and it is drizzling today. It has been pretty cold a few days. We have plenty to eat now-a-days such as fresh meat. Forage trains go out for forage for the teams and when they go out a good many of the boys go along and after they get outside of the pickets, they go where they please. And when they see a hog or a sheep, they shoot it and skin it and bring it into camp. For my part, I have not gone out yet but I expect I will go out some of these days. I had calculated going out today but there is no train going out today.

I thought I would sit down and write you a letter. I expect that you will have some trouble reading this letter for the ink is poor, being made out of gunpowder. And I expect it will be very apt to fade. But it is the best I can do and if you cannot read it, you will have to let it go without reading, I suppose.

It is awful muddy now in the fields and on the commons and byroads, but the turnpike roads are perfectly solid. The other day four or five of the boys went and got some brick and we have built a fireplace in the tent and it keeps the tent pretty warm.

There was 55 men wounded in our regiment and eight killed and several missing. There was but four wounded in our company and one missing and has not been seen or heard of since Wednesday, the 31st of December. It is supposed that he was taken prisoner. We had watch on New Year’s watching the graybacks across a cornfield about a quarter of a mile across. But that was not quite as pleasant as watching in the Methodist church in C. C. [Columbia City]. But enough of that. It does no good talking about old times. I expect that I will have to stay my three years out anyway. And about that time, you may look for me to be at home. But I can think of no more to write to you that would be interesting for you to read. I will close remaining your affectionate brother, — Samuel A. Baker

P. S. for fear that you cannot make out the date, I will put it here. It is January the 21st, 1863

Write as soon as you get this.

118th Pennsylvania Infantry

1863: William Parker Zane to Mary (Ault) Zane

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William Parker Zane just before entering the war. (Ancestry.com)

This letter was written by 37 year-old William Parker Zane (1826-1864) of Co. E, 118th Pennsylvania Infantry. This regiment was sometimes referred to as the “Corn Exchange Regiment” because the Philadelphia Corn Exchange Association furnished the bounty money and funds needed to raise the regiment. He wrote the letter to his German-born wife, Mary (Ault) Zane (1828-1910) and his two young girls—Virginia Georgiana Zane (1858-1933) and Kate Ambler Zane (1862-1957).

William enlisted on 11 August 1862 and was with his regiment until captured by the Rebels on 2 June 1864 during the Battle of Cold Harbor. He was taken to Andersonville Prison in Sumter county, Georgia, where he died of malnutrition (“scorbutus”) on 22 October 1864 after nearly five months imprisonment.

William was the son of Nathan Shenton Zane (1795-1855) and Hannah M. Stancliff (1791-1861) of Philadelphia.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Camp Warrenton
118th Regt. P. V., Co. E,
August 1, 1863

My dear wife,

I take the opportunity of writing a few lines to let you know how I am a getting along. I [am] well at present, hoping that these few lines will find you and the children all well. I received your letter on the 29th of July and was very glad to hear from you. I have had some hard marching for the last six months past and seen some hard fighting but as for myself, I got through clear without the first scare. We come very near getting into a fight at the Manassas Junction a few days ago but the rebs wouldn’t stand their ground. As soon as our men made a charge on them, they ran. The rebs is very good on a fire but when it comes to charging bayonets, they wil run. They won’t stand charging as well as our men will. But I don’t think we will have much more fighting—not for a month or so yet anyhow. Not till we get recruited up a little.

There is some of our men gone to Philadelphia to bring down some of them drafted men to fill up our regiment for it is very small at present. We expect to move from where we are at present but we shan’t move far. We expect to lay in camp till the conscripts come down.

I would be very glad to come home to see you all once more if I could get the chance but I would like to see the war ended before I come home so that I can stay for we are all very tired of Old Virginia. But as tired as we all are of it, we all feel very anxious of having the war brought to a close before we leave the State of Virginia so that we can go home and say that we have a better show at this present time of ending the war than ever we had because we never met with such good success since the war first started as we have since General Lee went into Pennsylvania. They have been coming over into our lines by hundreds and giving themselves up.

You said in your letter that you wanted to know whether I sent you a half a sheet of paper in my letter or not. I didn’t send you but a half a sheet because paper was very scarce where I was and I sent you a letter with ten dollars in that was only a half a sheet.

I must bring my letter to a close for it is time for me to get ready for dress parade. No more at present. I send my love to you and the children and tell the children that they must be good girls and mind what they are told. Give my best respects to Benjamin Ambler and family and all enquiring friends, if I have got any. Write soon and tell me whether you got the ten dollars I sent you. No more at present. I still remain your most affectionate husband, — William P. Zane

Antebellum New York

1857: Arthur Gilman to Winthrop Sargent Gilman, Jr.

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The following letter was written in January 1857 by Arthur Gilman (1837-1909), the son of Winthrop Sargent Gilman, Sr. (1808-1884) and Abia Swift Lippincott (1817-1902). He wrote the letter to his younger brother Winthrop (“Wint”) Sargent Gilman, Jr. (1839-1923) attending Williams College in Massachusetts.

Arthur’s father was a businessman who had a wholesale business in Alton, Illinois, and St. Louis, Missouri, before settling in New York City as an agent of the St. Louis firm in 1848. In 1860 he opened a banking house known as Gilman, Son, & Co. Arthur worked for his father in the bank for a while and then devoted his life to the education of women through the Harvard courses (the “Society for the Collegiate Instruction of Women”). In 1886, he established a school for girls which he called the Cambridge School but it was more generally known by his name.

Arthur’s letter recounts a day-long journey from New York City to Newburgh, a distance of 60 miles up the Hudson River on a frigid day in January 1857. He embarked on a river steamer to Fishkill Landing and subsequently traversed the ice on a heavily laden sleigh, a choice he later deemed unwise.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

New York [City]
January 12, 1857

Dear Brother Wint,

Your letter was received today while I was not in town, for you must know that when father looked into his letters this morning, he found that it would be necessary to send a special messenger to Newburgh. Under the circumstances, I, of course, was the most available person and accordingly I left the office soon after ten on a…

Pilgrimage to Newburgh.

Be it known to you, dear sir, that Newburgh is a city situated upon the western bank of that river which ever since its discovery by the late lamented Sir Hendrick Hudson has borne his name. Just where the Highlands commence and opposite the Fishkill Landing, which is distant 60 miles from the Metropolis, and presenting a beautiful appearance by reason of its being built upon a declivity, lies the City of Newburgh, before mentioned.

Had it been summer and had the summer sun shed down its life-giving and ice-melting rays, my pilgrimage would have been merely an ordinary trip and totally unworthy of being brought to your notice. Little matters it to us what might have been; we are dealing with facts. It was winter. Old Boreas reigned triumphant on the glorious Hudson as will as in the more classic, put perhaps not more romantic shades of Greylocke.

But to descend to soberalities, New York harbor was filled with ice and your most unworthy pilgrim debated in his mind whether or not he would have the honor and pleasure of navigating the noble river above referred to in the manner in which the immortal Father of his Country is supposed to have navigated the Delaware, without any [Emanuel] Leutze to spread the scene upon canvas.

At the appointed hour the vehicle in which my pilgrimage was to be commenced was in motion. How unconscious were my fellow passengers that so great a personage as your humble servant was in their midst. How little did the pedlar who sat by my side and who was bound for Saugerties,—how little did he think when he asked me the time that the fact would be recorded in history! As the distance became greater and greater to this city, I could notice that the sway of Old Boreas was less and less disputed and the mighty river was at last completely reduced to his dominion and submitted, tho’ not without occassional pantings for freedom (through frequent air holes) that the chains might be fastened which bound it to the shore.

“Peekskill! Five minutes for refreshments!” and as pilgrims even cannot derive sufficient nutriment from the circumambient air, six of the largest copper coins in use were here disbursed and thereby my corporeal ponderosity was rendered greater and my pocket suffered a collapse.

“Ding dong,” off go us. A few moments more and we are unloaded at Fishkill. “Take you over to Newburgh? Just get into that sleigh!” Sleigh indeed, and “how shall we cross the river?” “On the ice.” Nervous lady hopes they won’t load too heavy. She is assured they won’t. And neither did they, unless nine persons and a trunk in a one horse sleigh may be called too many.

We are on the ice. Crack goes the whip and crack! crack! goes the ice! at the same time. “We are approaching a dangerous place,” remarks one on which the four ladies are in fits. “Nothing to fear,” says the driver and they are quiet. Nevertheless, “crack, crack” goes the ice and we are there. Yes, we have accomplished the feat. A mile of ice is in our rear and we are safe! I hurried onto terra firma determined on my return to use those means of conveyance with which I was endowed by nature in preference to another sleigh ride.

My business over, I trotted back [over the ice] with my arms doubled up after the Greek fashion. Safe on the right side, I took some oysters! I came home. I am here. I write to Whit. I go to bed. Good night!

Affectionately, — Arthur Gilman

P. S. January 13th. Alice had a comfortable night. Affectionately, — Arthur.

7th Ohio Infantry, Battle of Antietam, Battle of Cedar Mountain

1862: Frederick A. Seymour to Howard Battin

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The following letters were written by Frederick A. Seymour (1819-1903). He had Militia experience before the war and in 1860 was a 40 year old potter in Ravenna, Portage County, Ohio. He was commissioned Captain of Company G, 7th Ohio Volunteer Infantry for 3 months service on 23 April 1861 and mustered out with them on 14 June. He was appointed Captain of the same company for a 3 year term on 14 June 1861. He assumed command of the regiment at Antietam after the next senior officer, Major Crane, took charge of the Tyndale’s Brigade. He resigned his commission on 17 April 1863. He reenrolled as Major of the 7th Ohio Infantry on 13 August 1863 but again resigned, on 29 March 1864.

In 1870 he was a farmer in West Hartford, CT. By 1900 he had retired there. He married Elvira Curtis (1834-) in February 1852 and they had a son Nathan.

To read a similar letter by Frederick written home after the battle of Antietam, see Dan Master’s Civil War Chronicles of September 22, 2017 for a post entitled: “The 7th Ohio Infantry at the Battle of Antietam.” The 7th Ohio Infantry served in Tyndale’s 1st Brigade, Greene’s 2nd Division, of Mansfield’s XII Corps at the Battle of Antietam.

Frederick wrote these letters to 39 year-old Howard Battin (1826-1882), a railroad conductor, who also kept a boarding house in Millersburg, Holmes county, Ohio.

Letter 1

[Editor’s Note: This letter describes the August 9, 1862, Battle of Cedar Mountain (or Slaughter’s Mountain, or Cedar Run) in which the 7th OVI participated and during which Colonel William R. Creighton was severely wounded, after which Major Orrin J. Crane assumed command. The regiment was at the front and engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand conflict. Of the three hundred men engaged, only one hundred escaped unhurt. The Seventh OVI suffered more than any other Union regiment in this battle.]

Engraving of the Battle of Cedar Mountain, August 9, 1862, from a sketch by Alfred R. Waud

Camp near Culpeper
August 14, 1862

I write this morning to let you know that I am still able to be around. For the last eight days if I had been at home, I should not have been able to be up at all but I felt better yesterday. I am so weak that I cannot walk half a mile. The morning of the fight I was terrible sick. I could keep nothing on my stomach a minute. We did not expect a fight that day. We had marched all night and got the order to make ourselves comfortable for the day. I had to ride in the ambulance. That night I was so sick I could not sit up. We had just got laid to rest for the day as we supposed when came the order bring up the troops. We were seven miles from Cedar Creek. The Rebels had driven in our pickets.

Col. William R, Creighton, 7th OVI

[When] we started, Col. [William R.] Creighton told me not to go but I thought I could ride in the ambulance till I got there, then I could stand it awhile. On the way there we had a great many men fall from sun stroke. It was a terrible hot day. Four of my men gave out by the way & could not go at all. When we came up, I went into the field after our men, had to walk half a mile. Had there but a few moments till the shells begin to come like hail around us. We were ordered forward. On we went to the top of the hill. Then they were to go double quick. I went as far as I could [but] had to fall out. I could not go farther. I sit down on the ground. Col. Creighton told me to go back before I got so far I could not get back. I sit and watched them till i could not stay there for the shells tore the ground all around me. Then I tried to get back over the hill. As I was going back, a horseman ran over me & nearly killed me. He was scared almost to death. I sit & watched the Boys till my heart sickened at the sight. They were cut like grass before the scythe. Our little regiment all alone to fight such terrible odds. For a good many minutes, the 7th [OVI] were alone & a great while Tyler’s old regiment was all alone with fifty thousand troops behind us and none to help us. It was so hard.

But enough. I hope I will get better for I have no one to help me now but Sergt. Dean all our book[s] to make out. I cannot leave now if I can sit up at all. I have tried to get my resignation papers ready but cannot get it done. All are so busy in care of our wounded. But if I am no better, I must leave for I cannot be up much longer. It seems hard to leave now when they are making such efforts to raise troops. I don’t know what is my duty to do. I cannot feel as though it was right to stay & not be able to get around. I shall do my duty if I know what it is. — Frederick

Letter 2

Harpers Ferry or Maryland Heights
September 21st 1862

This is the first time for ten days I have had time to write you. I wrote Rube the night of the Battle. I left Washington as I wrote you from Rockville, Maryland, & have been marching all the time since then, days and some nights all night. Then lay down without a blanket for our teams were back out of the way. When we reached Frederick City the Rebels left there without much of a fight. We left Frederick on Sunday the 14th. All the time from the 13th to the 15th [there was] terrible fighting on the mountains between Frederick City and Hagerstown. Our troops drove them out of the mountain with a terrible slaughter although they had a strong position. Gen. Cox made a good fight. His men did well for the first time they were under fire. The mountain roads were strewn with their dead. We followed as close as we could get for the size of our army, our right [wing] fighting them all the way for five days before we came up.

Lt. Col. Orrin J. Crane, 7th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (LOC)

On Wednesday the 17th we came up with them after marching all night, sire and tired. At four they opened on us and drove our men back half a mile on the right of the line which extended four or five miles. At five Gen. [George S.] Greene’s Division in which was our regiment, was ordered up to the front. At about six, we were engaged from that time till 3 in the afternoon. We were in the hottest of the fight in the center of the line. Such terrible fighting was never seen. The Rebels fought with a desperation worthy a better cause. They were bold and perfectly reckless. Our boys fought with determined energy that has ever characterized the 7th [Ohio] Regiment. [Maj. Orrin J.] Crane was commanding the regiment. I acted as Major. I had command of the regiment for a week but Crane came up in time for the fight. I would liked to have had our boys in the fight but it is all right, I suppose.

In the afternoon, Gen. Greene ordered us back to rest as we had run out of ammunition. We fell back onto a field to rest and they brought up fresh troops. We had a great many troops not engaged. When we fell back, Crane went off. Then came the order to the front again. I led the boys up but as fortune for our weary boys, they did not have to fight again that night but lay on our arms all night ready for the fight in the morning which the darkness had stopped.

In the morning artillery and skirmishing commenced at break of day. I was detailed to bury the dead of our regiment. I took eight men and went to the front and found our pickets and sharpshooters hard at work but I was bound to find our men which I did after a great deal of trouble. After one man—Corporal [Martin] Lazarus—fell, I went back under fire to see if he was alive and hear what he had to say, but poor fellow was dead before I could get back to him. By his side I found H. L. [J. B.] Carter of Co. F. He too was dead. I took their blankets off them and rolled them up and had to leave them for shot and shell came thick around me. In the night they were taken away but after long search, I found them, took our stretchers, carried them half a mile to a burying ground & gave them a soldier’s burial. I placed a board at the head plainly marked so at any time their remains can be obtained. After cold weather, it would be utterly impossible to get them now. I did all I could for them. They were decently buried in a church yard. I had none but him killed, 9 wounded, some of them badly, but another such a scene as that battlefield—may God spare me the sight at which the heart grows sick & shudders at the terrible sight.

As we marched over the bloody field on our way here on the ground on which our Regiment—the 7th [Ohio]—were engaged, more than 2,000 dead Rebels in less than a mile in all conceivable forms possible to think of festering and decaying in the sun as the Rebels fled and left them unburied. I can give no description nor can any person picture the horrid scene. They lie in countless numbers for miles around. But they have left Maryland & gone to Virginia again. Where we will go now is not known but I presume we will have to chase them up the Valley again. Gen. McClellan was with or near us all the time. The boys gave cheer upon cheer as he passed us. Our own General in the fight was wounded. As he passed us, he paid us a high compliment. He said he would see we had justice done us but he was severely wounded and probably will not live. But God’s will be done.

We have lost some good officers. Gens. [Joseph K.] Mansfield & [Jesse] Reno & others of lesser rank. Our wounded are numerous but not so many killed as one would suppose for so bloody a battle for the estimation of army men, it was the great battle. Oh may I never be called on to go through another such a day. I am nearly worn out marching all day, lying on the ground nights without so much as a blanket, but God will protect and he has kindly preserved me thus far. He will do all things right. — Frederick