An unidentified member of the 2nd US Sharpshooters (Brian White Collection)
The following letter was written by Charles Hendrich Forristall (1841-1917), the son of Thomas Forristall (1810-1887) and Mary S. Morse of Fitzwilliam, Cheshire county, New Hampshire. Charles enlisted on 21 October 1861 in Co. F, 2nd US Sharpshooters and served three years, mustering out on 26 November 1864. Charles signed his surname with only one “r” in this letter but the family name on the grave markers is spelled with two.
I’m not certain who Hattie or Florence were, to whom he addressed the letter. His younger siblings were named Sarah, Levi, and Susan.
Charles’ letter speaks of the number of soldiers dying in Washington during the winter of 1861-62. He also describes the typical soldier burial including the time honored tradition of the three volley salute, firing three rounds into the air.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
C. Magnus Illustrated Letterhead with images of St. Matthew Church, Trinity Church, U. S. Arsenal, and Military Asylum
Washington [D. C.] Tuesday, January 28, 1862
Dear Hattie & Florence,
I now sit down to answer your letter that I received last Sunday. You wrote that you should of answered my other letter before you did if you could found time. You must answer this as quick as you can for I have got a picture of all the principle buildings in Washington, Now Hattie, if you will answer this before Florence, I will send it to you. But if Florence gets the start and answers it first, I will send to her.
I am in good health now. I had a letter from Charles S. Blodgett the other day. He wrote that he was well. It rains here today. I don’t have much to do now for it is so muddy. You wrote there was going to be dances at the Town Hall once a fortnight. If I was there I would go too but I am too far off for that this winter.
I have some good times and some times that I never thought of seeing. [A] soldier’s life is hard—especially them that are sick. There was a time that they died four and five every day for five weeks. Now they average about one. The way they bury the dead soldiers here is in this way. The minister says a few words, and ten soldiers are detailed out of the company to carry loaded guns. They follow the corpse to the grave and when the corpse are in the grave, they all fire three times together and then they fall in and march back to the camp.
I cannot think of anything more to write this time so good night.
These letters were written by Reuben T. Swain, the son of Capt. Henry Swain (1776-Bef1850) and Elizabeth A. Townsend of Cape May, New Jersey. Unfortunately I cannot find any record of Reuben serving in the US Navy but his letters indicate that he lost a leg while in the Navy and that he recuperated at the U. S. Naval Asylum in Philadelphia. He would have been a pretty old sailor as I believe he was born before 1810. He may have been the same Rueben T. Swain who was named as a runaway indentured apprentice by Richard Powell who was in the Philadelphia cabinet making business and offered a reward of “six cents” for his return. That advertisement appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer in 13 July 1831 and may coincide with Reuben’s enlistment in the U. S. Navy. He would have been 21 at the time and he was indeed an indentured servant runaway, he may have enlisted under another name.
We learn from his letters that Reuben had never previously married and it appears he spent his entire life at sea—possibly launching out of Savannah for some years.
Reuben wrote the letters to his nephew, Jesse Diverty Ludlam (1840-1909), the son of Christopher Ludlam (1796-1861) and Hannah Swain (1802-1882). Jesse was married in November 1861 to Emily Cameron Miller (1841-1912) and employed principally as a farmer in Cape May county.
Letter 1
Philadelphia [PA] March 23, 1863
Dear Nephew,
Your kind favor of March 8th has been received and I assure you it gave me great pleasure to hear that you are all well.
You say you have doubts whether the Union will ever be restored unless by compromise, but I say no compromise with the traitors. Rather let the war go on for ten years. I know that the rebels will have to lay down their arms and that before a long time if the people of the free states remain loyal and support the President. That’s what’s wanting, and not let a few designing politicians rule the country as they have for the last twenty years. I say let the people of the U. S. now that they have a government and one that will protect them which they scarcely realized before.
Never was there a chain of events so striking and rapid in their tendency as those which mark the political history of our country for the twenty years reaching from the death of Gen. Harrison in April 1841 to the fall of Fort Sumter in April 1861. It will be the wonder of the historian to trace how every single act of that unfolding drama, successes and reverses of candidates, the scheme of annexations, the Mexican War, the extraordinary career and evident mission of Stephen A. Douglas, the election of our present chief magistrate, the peculiar blindness of Mr. Buchanan to the designs of his cabinet, and a hundred other equally important to the grand result all tending this one issue.
Who has not seen the interposing hand of God in the appearance of the Monitor in Hampton Roads at one of the most critical moments of the war, and in a hundred similar incidents? How signal the divine hand in distributing the calamities and desolations of the war, laying the chief burden thus far on the halting and half loyal border states which have stood Pontius Pilate between the parties, and whose prompt and hearty loyalty in the beginning would have averted this war.
Have we had Bull Runs and Chickahominies—it was only because the serpent was to be crushed as well as the eggs which it has hatched. Have we had slow and decisive Generals—it was that the Government and Nation might be brought to the use of their last and weightiest weapons. Have the Rebels exhibited an unexpected generalship, valor and endurance—it was that we might despair of ever conquering them by simple force of arms and strike at once at the grand source of power and supply, and by shaking the very foundations of southern society society topple the whole fabric of rebellion to the ground.
Surely, none can fail to see that this has so far been the result toward which all the incidents of the struggle have conspired and that two with a uniformity and a constant baffling of human plans and expectations which evince an overruling hand.
This war shall prove a blessing, not only to our country, but the race in the ultimate and utter extinction of chattel slavery in this banner land of freedom, where it must be destroyed before the world can be free. I confess that they are not the means which should have been chosen, nor are they the means which God would have chosen had we been willing to cooperate with him. The offering should have been a voluntary one to God and the oppressed race.
But this the dream of Washington and the counsel of Jefferson and the labor of Franklin and Adams, and the confident expectations of all the Fathers of our Republic was not to be the shame of their degenerate sons be it spoken. And as we would not draw Gods chariot of liberty and progress, it has passed on to its goal of triumph over our prostrate forms.
You must not think Jesse, that I am a friend to the negro—far from it. I wish they were all in Africa where they belong. But you may rely that it was slavery that brought the country to this war and the extinction of slavery will be the end of this war and the Union preserved. I would sooner see this war last for years than to see those accursed traitors gain their ends.
What a sin lies at the door of hypocritical England for this loss of blood and treasure. You might have a different opinion, but I do honestly believe that the beginning of this war was mainly encouraged by the aristocracy of that bigoted race. You might blame me for being so down on that Nation, but I feel at present such a burning hatred for that Nation which has been the cause of our present trouble [and] that if I had children, after learning them to lisp their prayers, I would add a curse on that cross of St. George. What would they have done during that Trent Affair if Seward would have left a shadow of chance? They would have gloried in the downfall of freedom on this continent. But thank God we have a Navy now that they have every reason to dread. Our ironclads have caused such a revolution in the naval history of the world as was never dreamed of.
Jess, this difficulty cannot be settled by compromise otherwise than to let them go, and if they go, every state in the Union has the same right, and in a short time the U. S. would be cut up into small republics and none of them able to protect themselves. The next thing would be some European power would have to protect them and that would be worse than death to every true American. No, we have a government and a good one too. And let us support it and all will end well yet.
I must close as it is getting so dark that I can scarcely see. I remain your friend, — Reuben T. Swain, Philadelphia
to Jesse D. Ludlum, Dennisville, N. J.
P. S. I was very much surprised to find a letter from Sophia Swain at the Post Office for me today. As you never mentioned her, I thought she was dead.
Letter 2
Note: This letter is from the personal collection of Greg Herr and was offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.
U. S. Naval Asylum Philadelphia, [Penn.] June 17, 1863
Dear Nephew,
I embrace the present opportunity of writing to you and to inform you that I will start for Dennisville on the 2nd of July, provided no unforeseen occurrence prevents. I suppose you will think that I want a great deal of coaxing but it is not so. There is nothing that would give me so much pleasure as to see Hannah and the children. I should have been to see you before only I expected to get a new artificial limb made before coming. There seems to be a great demand for the article at present and I could not get one made before the last of August so I concluded to come on the old one. I make a poor [job] out walking on the old one and are afraid that I will be in the way very much.
Oh! I saw Joshua and was surprised to see so large a man. It seems only the other day that he was a little boy. Oh how I wish I had my other understanding and I would be off to sea again and take Joshua with me to see foreign countries. But those days are passed and gone and I must be content myself within the limits of the United States, I suppose.
The letter you sent to the Philadelphia Post Office I have received. It was from Priscilla. They are all well and complain that they cannot hear from Dennisville. I should like to see Priscilla, and Robert. 1 Poor fellow! I suppose we will never see him again. Robert’s case is a hard one and I suppose he is secesh. We must make allowances for him under existing circumstances. He was a citizen of Louisiana. All his property was there. Also married, his wife’ heirs, and she belonged there, and woman has great influence over man you know—at least I suppose so. Why! if I had been married in Savannah, I suppose I would have been secesh too! But woman or no woman, I never would have consented to fight against the Stars and Stripes. I have sailed too long under the starry banner of our country to desert it in hour of danger.
Elizabeth Swain is coming down with me. I expect Sophia and Lib are well. Dick Townsend I have not seen for a long time.
The war news is so conflicting that I will say nothing about it, as I expect you get the same news as we have here—only that I wish the Abolitionists and the Niggers were pitted together and had to fight it out against the fire-eaters of the South, and I would be willing to abide the issue.
So I will close by adding my respects and best wishes for all of your present and future welfares, hoping soon to see you all.
P. S. If the weather proves unfavorable, I will postpone until good weather. Yours respectfully, — Reuben T. Swain, Philadelphia
To Jesse D. Ludlam, Dennisville, Cape May, N. Jersey
I have just seen an advertisement in the Philadelphia papers that the cars will commence running on the Cape May and Millville Railroad on and after the 22nd of June, to the Dennisville Station. So you may expect me on the 2nd of July. — R. T. Swain
I should have come down sooner but I just received a letter from Washington saying in answer to my application for a leave of absence that it cannot be granted until the first of the month. I suppose you will think strange that I am under Government orders but I will explain when I come. So you may expect me July 2nd 1863 Your Uncle, — R. T. Swain
1 I believe this is a reference to Reuben’s brother, Richard Swain (1800-1871) who married Anna Matilda McClure (18xx-1884) and was a resident of New Orleans when the Civil War began. He was employed as a ship inspector. Richard’s son, Richard D. Swain (1839-1900) was a 2nd Lt. in Co. E, 5th Louisiana Infantry (CSA) during the war. He spent some time at Johnson’s Island Prison after he was captured at Rappahannock Station in November 1863.
Letter 3
U. S. Naval Asylum, Philadelphia April 18, 1864
Mrs. Emily C. Ludlum, dear Madam,
I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your communication of the 17th inst. enclosing your thanks and opinions of the ship. I feel very much flattered and complimented at the honor conferred on me, and pleased you think it worth mentioning, yet sorry you should think it give me trouble. It is hardly necessary for me to assure you that rather than trouble, it gives me pleasure, and passed away many lonesome hours. You complain that everything is so high. Of this fact I am well aware and see no prospects of a change as long as this war continues. But I have hopes that the end is nigh. I suppose you will say you cannot see any prospects of the end being nigh and ask me to explain why I think there is prospects of the end being nigh. Well, I will give you my poor opinion and leave it to your option to form any idea you like on it.
If the military preparations now in progress in Virginia under the supervision of Grant shall result in a successful campaign against the rebel capitol, the rebellion will have received its death blow, and the blow that destroys the rebellion establishes our country in that position as a nation which she has seemed likely to lose. And the military powers of the earth must yield us the first place as the greatest of them all, for not only will our government then have gone through an ordeal that it cannot be pretended that any Eurpopean government could go through, but we will also have exhibited a military power equal to the combined powers of England and France. All the civil wars in Europe have been the merest skirmish to this great struggle in which the parts of the United States have mustered against one another—a power equal on either side to the powers of a great nation under the European system.
Our own forces now under arms under the stars and strips is equal in numbers, as in every other respect, to the armies as they at present stand, of England & France together! In case of great necessity, we are still the equal of those two powers combined and this certainly entitled to take precedence in military power over anyone.
But if Grant should fail, it is hardly possible to say what results may follow. One great disruption would lead to lesser ones. We would be broken up into a community of petty and quarrelsome states, and the great experiment of free government that we have tried for eighty years would be settled against the people. We would die the youngest of great republics, and our fall would strengthen the hands of power everywhere. It thus appears that the struggle upon which we are now about to enter is a momentous one, not only to ourselves, but to the world at large. Its result either way will affect for good or evil the future history of the human race.
“Our coming battle is to decide a great issue. It is to determine whether the great republic of modern times shall stand or fall; to determine the existence of a government destined to exert a great influence on the progress of a human race than any other known to history. The responsibilities of the man who commands our armies in this great crisis are tremendous and the reward of his success will be the greatest within the gift of the people.”
— Reuben T. Swain, 18 April 1864
Our coming battle is to decide a great issue. It is to determine whether the great republic of modern times shall stand or fall; to determine the existence of a government destined to exert a great influence on the progress of a human race than any other known to history. The responsibilities of the man who commands our armies in this great crisis are tremendous and the reward of his success will be the greatest within the gift of the people.
“I have a new artificial limb but do not walk well on it. I shall not go out West this summer but stop at home and learn to walk before visiting anyone.”
I say the rebellion will and must go down before the coming campaign. God grant it may. It is not possible this country will be destroyed in this manner, It must not be. It makes me heart sick to think of it.
I have a new artificial limb but do not walk well on it. I shall not go out West this summer but stop at home and learn to walk before visiting anyone. I think that is best.
I had a letter from Francis. He is in Rush Barracks, Company D, 1st Regiment, V. R. C., Washington D. C. Tell Jesse to keep a stiff upper lip. Everything will come out right side up yet with perhaps a little of the outside polish rubbed off.
Give my respects to Hannah, Mary and all my friends. I will close by adding good wishes for your health and prosperity, hoping to hear from you when convenient. — Reuben T. Swaim, N. Asylum, Philadelphia
To Mrs. E. C. Ludlum, Dennisville, New Jersey
P. S. If you get news from Robert, let me know if you please. I am anxious to jear if he got the duplicates.
Letter 4
Naval Asylum Philadelphia July 15, 1864
Mr. Jesse D. Ludlum, dear sir,
I thought I would trouble you too as well as Emily. I suppose she is quite tired with answering my letters. I certainly feel much obliged to Emily for her kindness, thinking I may have a better opportunity perhaps than you of getting news from the Capitol in those trying times that try mens’ souls. I have the news from Washington regularly again. It seems the rebels were driven from Fort Stevens on Tuesday evening after a spirited assault of our troops after which they seemed to abandon their attempt on the National Capitol. The morning found them gone and crossing the Potomac with their rich plunder at Edward’s Ferry. We have Gen. Hunter’s command in Maryland and the body lately under Gen. Sigel is at Frederick while the troops that fought at the Monocacy under Wallace, now commanded by Gen. Ord, are at Baltimore. It is said that the rebel force which passed through Frederick numbered thirty-eight thousand men and that the Corps of A. P. Hill was to join it near Washington. This would look like a definite plan for an attempt on Washington and would indicate that the possession of that City is the real object of the operation. The assault on one of the forts at Washington and its capture by the enemy on Tuesday favor this view. Fortunately the fort was retaken.
But there is no satisfactory knowledge yet of how much infantry the enemy has. Then thousand could have accomplished all that has thus far been done, and it may prove that Washington is yet not the enemy’s real object. It may be a plan to recruit the southern armies with the twenty thousand rebel prisoners now at Point Lookout and if the raiders should move that way, it is to be hoped the government may find it out in time to send a gunboat to that point before it is too late.
The rebel privateer Florida is again on our coast, and again the Navy Department is in a stew. [Gideon] Wells was notified a month ago that the Alabama and Florida would attempt to go into Charleston and but for the Kearsarge, the Alabama would have been in there by this time in spite of the ironclads. The last time the rebels raided into Pennsylvania, the Florida made her appearance in the same place she is now said to be in, and she was not disturbed in her movements until she had destroyed several of our merchantmen and broken up our fishing fleet for the season. There are several vessels here which can go to sea but they have neither the speed nor batteries fit to cope with those of the Florida.
One respectable vessel has been sent from Portland [Maine]. There are none in Boston, Philadelphia, or New York fit to go and it is more than probable that those in Rear Admiral Lee’s inactive flotilla which are fit for such service have been ordered up to Washington to protect the capitol. It is a crying shame that our commerce should be left thus unprotected and that Rip Van Winkle Wells should have nothing but a lot of washtubs which he is afraid to send out lest they be sunk or captured. Captain [Raphael] Semes is a fine specimen of Southern chivalry. He first surrendered himself and his vessel, and then escaped by turning his hat and coat inside out, swimming to the Deerhound, hiding under a sail, and giving out that he was drowned. Pity he was not drowned—the pitiful wretch.
I have been looking for a letter from Francis very anxiously. I expect he is busy and can get no time to write. The excitement is still great here. Regiment after regiment are leaving daily. I had almost a mind to go too. I am afraid they will be too late to intercept the rebels with their booty, but I think Grant will spare troops to meet them before they get back to Richmond. I do believe that this raid is the best thing that could have happened. It shows [Jeff] Davis that the people can raise a respectable force in a short time when the war is brought too close to their doors North, and there is every prospect that Lincoln will be reelected and Davis knows that the war will go on as long as the Republican Party is in power.
I will close by adding my respects to all and should be happy to hear from you at any time when you can make it convenient. Yours very respectfully, R. T. Swain
Letter 5
[U. S. Naval Asylum, Philadelphia] [late August 1864]
[Dear Niece]
Your kind and acceptable favor of the 14th inst. is received and I was very much pleased to hear you are all well. I was not aware that Sophia had returned to the City. I have heard nothing from them since they returned. Well Emily, things look cheering again. The events of the past two weeks have greatly changed the face of affairs. Look at it for a moment.
Last month Washington was threatened and attacked; Baltimore in danger, railroads destroyed in every direction; passenger trains captured with as much surprise as a lightning stroke inflicts; Chambersburg burned by the unknown McCausland; our scattered forces under Hunter, Sigel and Averill really ignorant of the Rebels whreabouts and numbers, dancing about in a ludicrous but not very amusing manner. The atmosphere was dark with storm clouds.
But today, how changed. Sherman draws in cordon tighter around Atlanta and the city must fall; Sheridan—young, ardent, brave and energetic—has been put in command on our troubled frontiers with fifty thousand men; Grant again moving with restless activity on the James river; and Farragut passing the Rebel obstructions and knocking about their fleet liked cockle shells within the long called impregnable defenses of Mobile Bay. Thus our darkness has been followed by rare gleams of light. In consideration of these facts, all we want is patience and soldiers, patience to bear reverses, and hope for the best; patience to bear privations and taxes while we are fighting it out and forever settling the issue of freedom’s battle.
There is a party [in the] North advocating peace on any terms? (Shame) Do they consider the consequences? I think not. Every honorable man desires peace of course, but not a dishonorable peace/ In these stringent times, many persons have very crude ideas of peace. Why should we fight? they ask. Isn’t peace the most desirable of all things, and ought we not to sacrifice a great deal for the sake of peace? Certainly we ought. But it is a question of cowardice and baseness as well as desire.
It very readily degenerates into a cry for peace at all hazards, and at every cost. But is there a noble man or nation that would take such grounds. Peace can always be bought if you will pay the price. If a robber stops you on the road, if a burglar stands over your child and threatens, you need not break the peace. You have only to give them all they ask and there need be no blows. You may have peace if you will pay the price.
A man leads you by the nose through the streets, you have only to go quietly. A man kicks you, you have only to wait for more. A man grasps your throat, you have only to stand still. He throttles, you have only to drop dead. In all these cases there need be no breaking of the peace, if you cheerfully submit. No man is called upon to favor anarchy under the plea of preserving peace. In fact, if you would have peace, be ready to maintain it and defend it. Peace is a good thing, but only on honorable and manly terms.
When a man buys peace with dishonor, does he not buy it too dearly? We need a better understanding between the good and true men of nothing sections and it must be lamented that these two great communities have been interpreted to each other, not by the wisest and calmest but by the most extreme and hot headed agitators in both sections.
God has given us our guiding law and our moving mind, more deeply perhaps that we are conscious. We feel this twofold gift when we look at the flag of our Union, as we have done at late, and our hearts beat quicker, and our eyes fill with tears of joy and hope as we gaze upon its stars and stripes. Those stars speak to us of laws as fixed as the eternal heavens, and those stripes, as they wave in the breeze, tell us of that mysterious breath which moves through men and nations that they may be born, not of the flesh, but of God.
Give my best respects to Hannah, and Mary, and likewise to all enquiring friends. Hoping you are all well, I close by adding my respects to you, hoping for a continuance of your correspondence, but you must not put yourself to any inconvenience on my account. Very respectfully, your humble servant, — Reuben T. Swain
Letter 6
Naval Asylum, Philadelphia [Wednesday] October 12th 1864
Dear Niece,
It being dull today after the excitement yesterday in consequence of the election 1 and feeling that I must do something to dispel the general gloom that seems to be gathering around my room, I seat myself to have a few moment’s conversation with you.
Everything passed off quietly yesterday. In fact, we never had a more quiet, peaceable, and good natured political contest in the tendering of every assurance that our old pilot must stand at the helm for four years more. Yesterday was unmarked by any breach of the peace whatever beyond some of the usual wrangling that takes place at street corners between petty politicians who are full of talk, full of certain sort of enthusiasm, full of whiskey, and utterly devoid of discretion. There was little to remind me what an important election was going on except the usual election day street salutations—“Have you voted yet?” [or] “How is it going in your ward?” &c.
Jess must not call me a turncoat when I tell you I voted the Republican ticket yesterday. Heretofore I have been in opposition to the present administration. But now I shall certainly give Abraham my vote. I am forced to choose between two evils and I think by voting for Lincoln, I choose the lesser one. An honest man who may vote for McClellan and Pendleton in the hope that they are thereby vindicating the supremacy of Union and law will find themselves cruelly betrayed when they see the government of their choice truckling at the feet of Jeff Davis and humbly suing for peace which a few months of manly effort might have commanded.
There is but one question before the people on the approaching canvas. Shall we prosecute the war with unabated might until the rebel forces lay down their arms, or shall we—to use the language of the Chicago Convention—make immediate efforts for a cessation of hostilities with view to a convention of all states, &c. Gen. McClellan, the candidate of the Chicago Convention, unfortunately is silent on the only question in regard to which the people cared. That after the election, they will find themselves despised and powerless.
Enough of this kind of talk. I have been going on with politics and foolishness that will not interest you one bit, until I had almost forgotten that I was writing a letter to my niece. Emelie, you must excuse me and I will try and make amends by saying the Rebellion is nearly crushed. Napoleon said Providence was on the side of the heaviest artillery. And so it is with us. God has furnished us with all we need, with His blessing, to crush this Rebellion and then meet any who may adopt her cause. Our most dangerous enemies are those Judases at hoe who are proclaiming their love of country and yet have all their sympathies with the enemy. God is waking His own good pleasure & the day is not far distant when the leaders will abandon their vain attempt & the men will lay down their arms as they did at Fort Morgan & the flag of our Union will wave uninsulted in Richmond and CHarleston, and that sweetest of national anthems—the Star Spangled Banner—shall be sung by North and South everywhere & forever, will send up one universal shout, Hallelujah! The Lord Omnipotent Reigneth. Respects, &c. — Reuben T. Swain
1 On October 11, 1864, Pennsylvania, along with Ohio and Indiana, held important state elections. These elections were considered “bellwether” contests that would indicate public sentiment and potentially predict the outcome of the upcoming presidential election.
Letter 7
Naval Asylum, Philadelphia Friday afternoon, February 24th 1865
Dear Niece,
Feeling somewhat low-spirited and lonesome today, I take the responsibility upon myself—as Jackson said—of bothering you by writing to you. However, I will go on and say a few words about transpiring events. We had on the 22nd a sort of double holiday commemorating at once the birthday of Washington and the capture of Charleston! The stars and stripes was waving from every public building in the city and to complete the rejoicing came along the news announcing the capture of Fort Anderson, N. C., which added very naturally to the joyous ffeelings which were associated with the day. Fort Anderson is the only obstacle which prevents the capture of Wilmington and with its fall, the fate of the town seems to be assured.
The rapid succession of disasters which have attended the Rebels since Sherman’s march through Georgia are so many sureties of the final success of the Union arms; my opinion is that the loss of Wilmington will necessitate the evacuation of Richmond. I know too little of Sherman’s real designs to predict what he will do. That Hoke will endeavor to reach Florence, S. C., may be presumed, and that Schofield will be close after him rapidly so as to form a union somewhere in North Carolina with Sherman may be as confidently supposed. If Hardee & Hoke manage to join Beauregard, he may consider himself strong enough to face Sherman. And if he can only manage the important matter of feeding them, he may be able to do something in regard to checking Sherman’s march through North Carolina. And the question of ammunition is also important. It is possible that some supplies may have been carried away from Charleston but from the amount left when Gilmore took possession, it is not probable that any large amount could have been taken off by Hardee. What depots there may be in the interior of North Carolina can at present be only conjectured. These are matters which will have an important influence upon the campaign.
At present we can but speculate upon them and await the further development to which the course of events will bring out. At present, let us rejoice that according to all appearance, the Union armies are sweeping up the country clean as they pass on toward their final destination in Virginia.
The Rebels seem to hold on to the idea that if they hold out till the fourth of March next that France will recognize the Confederacy of which delusion our government has reason for complaint against France. The intervention in Mexico was a wrong to us as well as to the Mexicans, and it would not have been attempted had we not had our hands tied by the rebellion at home. These and other grievances that I might name have created an unpleasant feeling in the minds of the American people towards France. Our government is not yet in a condition to demand satisfaction but a day of reckoning must come. The capture of the only two important ports left to the Rebels relieves hundreds of fine war steamers from blockade duty and we could send to France a finer and more formidable naval force than any other power on earth could muster in years. I do not propose that we should go nust now upon any enterprise of this kind. But the knowledge that we might do it, and that we are everyday growing stronger and better able to do it, must make an impression abroad and add weight to any demands we may make upon France for satisfaction for the wrongs she has done.
I had a letter from Priscilla lately. At the time she wrote, Leaming was still a prisoner in North Carolina. I think the prospects are good for him to be exchanged soon as there is an exchange of prisoners going on at present, man for man, and the number in our hands greatly exceeds the number that the rebels hold of our men. Therefore, all the Union prosoners will be exchanged leaving a large surplus in our hands. I have heard nothing from Francis lately. I cannot account for his silence. Sophia or Libs I have not seen or heard from since Mary was up. I suppose Sophia ia out of the city.
I will close by requesting you when you feel like writing to write as I am very anxious to hear from you all. Very respectfully, &c. — Reuben T. Swain
My respects to Hannah & Mary and all enquiring friends. It appears Jesse is out of the draft at last. I hope so. The draft is going on in this city and Camden, I see.
Letter 8
U. S. Naval Asylum, Philadelphia April 1, 1865
Dear Neice,
I think I promised to write to you monthly and not wishing to make an April Fool of you, I seat myself to write to you according to promise. You see by the date it is the first of April and by the first of April, we ought to think of summer. Yet, if we did, we should go far towards proving ourselves April Fools. Even May which is the peculiar darling of poets, is a doubtful beauty, capricious and cold, leading her lovers into miry lanes and meadows, and sending them home with wet feet and colds in their heads. As for you at Dennisville [N. J.], you have no spring. Your climate shares a restless impatience of them permanent and leaps from the zero point straight up to boiling. When one unquestionably warm day burns you a little, you feel that summer has arrived. Then what a bursting out of roses and lilies and what a pulling fourth of muslin duck and drilling.
Well, as I said before, April has come again and nature is proceeding to dress up her fair scenes for the day season, and great the leaves and flowers as they come laughing to their places. I watch the arrivals, speaking of the spring visitors. I think I recognize many a pair of old birds who had been to me like fellow lodgers the previous summer, and I detected the loud, gay song of many a riotous new comer. These are stirring times in the woods. You must recollect that the Asylum grounds in the summer time is a complete forest of trees.
Well, to take up the subject again, the robins are already hard at work on their mud foundations, while many of their neighbors are yet looking about, and bothering their heads among the inconvenient forks and crotches of the trees. The sagacious old wood pecker is going around visiting the hollow trees, peeping into the knot holes, dropping in to inspect the accommodations and then putting his head out to consider the prospects and all the while, perhaps, not a word was said to a modest little blue bird that stood by, and had been expecting to take the premises. I observed too a pair of sweet little yellow birds that appeared like a young married couple, just setting up house keeping. They fixed upon a bough near my window and I soon became interested in their little plans and indeed felt quite melancholy when I beheld the troubles they encountered occasionally when for whole days they seemed to be at a stand still. This morning I see they are both at work again and I have not the least doubt that before the end of the month, they little honeymoon cottage will be fairly finished and softly lined.
Well, Emily, I suppose you will say you have had enough of such nonsense about April Fools, and yellow birds, &c. And I think myself I am too apt to run on with my nonsense a little too far, without once thinking of the bother I may give to others. But you must make allowances and come to the conclusion that I have a great deal of leisure time. I think I hear you say, you should find some other way of employing your leisure time.
Well, Emily, it was only yesterday I was comparing the industry of man with that of other creatures in which I could not but observe, that, notwithstanding we are obliged by duty to keep ourselves in constant employ, after the same manner as inferior animals are prompted to it by instinct, we fall very short of them in this particular; reason opens to us a large field of affairs, which other creatures are not capable of Beasts of prey, and I believe, all other kinds in their natural state of being, divide their time between action and rest. They are always at work or asleep. In short, their waking hours are wholly taken up in seeking after their food or in consuming it.
The human species only, to the great reproach of our natures, are filled with complaints, that we are at a loss how to pass away our time; how monstrous are such expressions, among creatures who have the labors of the mind, as well as those of the body, to furnish them with proper employments; who besides the businesses of their proper calling can apply themselves to the duties of religion, to meditation, to the reading of useful books, to the pursuits of knowledge and virtue, and every hour of their lives make themselves wiser or better than they were before.
You must not think that I am criticizing on your time; far from it. Common sense teaches me that anyone who has the care of a family has no spare time. It is myself that I have reference to and I promise hereafter that I will not bother you with such nonsense again.
I have nothing to say about the war further than the prospects are good for the Union. And that it is my earnest prayer that the Union may be preserved. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion to see whether with my short sight I can fathom the depth of the abyss below. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us—for us and our children. Beyond that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my days at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in Heaven, may I not see him shining in the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union. Let their last feeble and lingering glances rather behold the gorgeous Ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, with not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such interrogatory as what is all this worth? But everywhere, spread all over, its characters of living light that other sentiment, dear to ever true American heart, “Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseperable.”
“It has been said that a special Providence watches over children, drunkards, and the United States. They make so many blunders and live through them, it must be that they are cared for, for they take very little care of themselves.”
— Reuben T. Swain, April 1, 1865
But I am inclined to believe that the Union will last a little longer and that we shall have some good times yet, in time to come. It has been said that a special Providence watches over children, drunkards, and the United States. 1 They make so many blunders and live through them, it must be that they are cared for, for they take very little care of themselves. So I am disposed to trust to Providence, and not to worry.
P. S. I expect you will say confound the letter—am I ever coming to the end. Well have patience for everything must have an end and so will this letter, if the little trouble in the cradle will allow you to continue on to the end.
Everybody seems to have come to a standstill in respect to writing letters. I have not received one from Francis for two months, and cannot imagine what is the cause unless his regiment hs been ordered away from Elmira to guard prisoners who were going on to be exchanged. Sophia or Elizabeth I have not seen since Mary was up. I have written to Sophia several times during the winter but have received no answer. It seems strange but so it is. As for Robert, I have had no letter from him for so long a time that I have forgotten the date. Nothing from Priscilla since the first of March, &c. So you may think I have a nice time of it in my little room, wondering why I do not get a letter once in a while. However, I take things very comfortable and when I can find nothing else to do, whistle and sing, Dancing is out if the question for those artificial limbs are not particularly adapted for dancing.
Yours of the 28th March I received on the 29th and was right well pleased at receiving it, I can assure you, Emily, although it was very short. But I suppose, as you said, that little trouble that you mentioned was the cause of depriving me of a longer one. Well I must trust to pot luck and look for a longer one next time. I did think of going out to Illinois this summer, but hardly think I shall get started. The distance is so great that I am almost afraid to undertake the journey. This shifting cars in the night I am afraid I could not get through with. If it was all on one track, the trouble would be nothing.
Well, I suppose Emily you will say it is about time to bring this letter to a conclusion and I think so too. So I will conclude by requesting you to give my respects to Hannah, Jesse, Mary and all enquiring friends, and by subscribing myself your uncle, — Reuben T. Swain
1 This saying appears as early as 1849 in the form “the special providence over the United States and little children”, attributed to Abbé Correa.
These letter was written by Pvt. Charles S. Crockett (1838-1864) of Co. K, 65th New York Infantry (a.k.a. the 1st U.S. Chasseurs). The regiment was primarily raised in New York City, but also recruited in Connecticut; Seneca, Ohio; and Providence, Rhode Island. Crockett of Company K was from Adams township, Seneca county, Ohio. He was the son of James Crockett (1798-1874) and Mary Parsons Haskell (1801-1874). When he enlisted, he was described as 6 foot 1 inches tall, with blue eyes and dark hair—a farmer. He reenlisted in the regiment in December 1863 but did not survive the war. He died at Fredericksburg from wounds received in the Battle of the Wilderness on 6 May 1864. His death occurred on 10 May 1864.
Crockett’s 2nd letter alludes to the losses of the regiment at Gettysburg and of the more recent action at Wapping Heights (Manassas Gap) where they participated in the attack by the Excelsior Brigade led by Gen. Spinola in the evening of July 23, 1863. See “Too Good to be True: At Manassas Gap,” by Rick Barram (2018).
Charles Crockett (at right) wearing his Chasseurs uniform, holding his Hardee Hat on his leg.
Letter 1
Camp near Harrison’s Landing On James River, Va. July 22, 1862
John Gifford, Esq., Laurens, N. H. Friend John,
Having a little spare time I thought I would devote it to interest you a little. The heading of my letter will tell you our present location. We have had quite easy times since coming here but we are still on the front. We have picket duty once in a week, but it is very easy. The Rebels don’t seem disposed to molest us yet. Their pickets are very quiet. We are entrenching & making our position strong as possible. Many a farm has this Army of the Potomac almost ruined by the pick and shovel. We shall probably make no demonstration here until reinforced, Our force is too small, We have suffered terribly in making this rear movement though not willingly acknowledged. We can hold our present position I think as we are under cover of our gunboats. Were it not for them, we could soon be driven out of here or captured.
I should like to get my discharge now & go back & get a good position among the new troops now being raised. I would stand an excellent chance with the advantage of 15 months hard earned experience. It would be a sufficient recommend for a Lieutenant’s commission. I have spoken to the Captain about it. He says he is perfectly willing that I should go, but does not see any way to accomplish it unless I have some friends who have sufficient influence to get me a position. That is what bothers me. I can get the Captain and Major’s signature to a recommend but don’t know who to apply to to use that recommend for my benefit. However, something may turn up for my benefit yet. I have some hopes at any rate.
Weather is very warm—thermometer ranging from 90 to 110 degrees Fahrenheit. We do not have but one drill a day & 1 dress parade. Police duty’s are done morning and evening. During the heat of the day, we lie still in the shade. There is some new regiments that have long drills every day. I tell you, it is tough business. It is so terrible hot, it makes men hate their country & everything else. Still I suppose it is an absolute necessity or it would not be done.
A great many have lost confidence in General McClellan. I have visited many different regiments since we fell back & in them all I hear him denounced more or less. They blame him a great deal, some for one thing & some for another. He does not give us facts when we have been whipped. He calls it by some other name. Before the retreat commenced, dispatches came to Hooker & were published to his men that we were driving the enemy on the right when in fact we were falling back all the time. We had been cheering all day at what we supposed to be big things in our favor. At night we went to bed feeling highly elated at the prospect of soon being in Richmond. About 12 o’clock we were all called up & orders came for every man to get ready for a march & in light marching order. The sick ones were ordered to start immediately & we were ordered to destroy everything that we could not carry—knapsacks, tents, & even guns were destroyed, clothing of every description were burned instead of giving them to the men when half of them were nearly naked. Ammunition & subsistence were destroyed all along the lines the amount of which no one has dared to make an estimate. Millions wouldn’t compensate us for our losses. These stores did not fall into the hands of the rebels but were destroyed—that is, the most of them.
The Battle and Burning of Savage’s Station, Virginia, on June 29, 1862
The retreat, however, was made in good order. We whipped them at every point during all that seven days fighting. If our loss was heavy, there must have been terrible. Our artillery made terrible havoc among them. I wish I could explain to you so that you could understand it as I have seen it but it is impossible. But I must close, My regards to your family. Also remember me to James when you see him. I have no stamp & must beg your indulgence as usual. I wrote you soon after we got back here. Did you. get it? Ever your friend, — Charles S. Crockett
Letter 2
Note: This letter is from the private collection of Greg Herr and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.
Wagon Park of 1st Regt., Ex[celsior] Brigade Near Warrenton, Va. July 29th 1863
Jno. Gifford, Laurens, New York
Friend John, after so long a time I have again got a moment’s time to write to you. I assure you I could not well do it sooner. We arrived here on the afternoon of July 26th & are here yet. Everything goes to show, however, that today will be our last day here. We have had quite a rest. Have got new clothes for the most needy. Have got our wounded taken care of. Have got harnesses & wagons repaired & are in pretty good condition to go on again. Which way through, I cannot tell.
Our Colonel—Major—Adjutant with one sergeant and six privates have gone to New York after drafts to fill up our ranks. Each regiment of the Brigade & Division have sent in the same manner & I expect we will soon have our Division as large as ever. We had come down to our last hard tack when we arrived here. It seems that the Rebel guerrilla parties annoyed our trains so much between Upperville and Harper’s Ferry that communication was stopped. The consequence was I had a half day’s ration to issue to get from Piedmont Station to Warrenton. The Rebs held Warrenton until the day before we came here.
I assure you, we have done some tall marching since we left Falmouth, Virginia, the 10th day of June last. I never had so hard a time in my life to my end up. It has been night and day, rain and shine, day after day, week after week. Nothing we have ever been called on to do could begin [to compare] with the last campaign. We have all suffered severely in wear and tear, in loss of men, and everything belonging to war. But I think the campaign is about over until we get the drafts in proper order & our ranks filled.
Our regiment lost in the Gettysburg battle 108 men in killed, wounded, and missing. And in a charge made on the 25th [23rd] of July at Manassas Gap we lost 38 men in killed & wounded. Besides [this], we have lost a great many by sickness, &c., consequently in making such long fatiguing marches. I am astounded that men can stand as much as they have done. I have had a good horse to ride during all the marching & yet I have been so worn and tired many a time that I have fallen asleep in the saddle & it seemed as though I must give up. Still I have made out to stand it so far.
I have not time to write more as I have just got an order to go to the regiment. Excuse briefness & do not think amiss if I fail to write you often. In friendship yours, — Charles Crockett
I could not find an image of John but here is a CDV of Edwin Augustus Hall who served in Co. A, 23rd Massachusetts Infantry (Ancestry.com)
The following letter was written by John Knight Dustin (1843-1909), the son of John K. Dustin (1815-1898) and Angeline S. Heath (1816-1857) of Lanesville, Massachusetts. John enlisted on 20 September 1861 in Co. C, 23rd Massachusetts Infantry. Just previous to his enlistment, he was working as a clerk in Gloucester. He remained in the regiment his full term of three years, mustering out on 26 September 1864. After he left the service, he returned to Gloucester, married Lucy Low Davis (1847-1916), and settled into a life of book-keeping.
In this letter, John informs his father that Burnside’s return to command in North Carolina would be welcome. He also summarizes the New Year’s Day (1864) Emancipation celebration dinner given by the “colored Citizens” and the speeches in support of the reelection of “Old Abe.”
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Mr. John K. Dustin, Lanesville, Massachusetts
Hammond General Hospital 1 Beaufort, North Carolina January 6, 1864
Dear Father,
I received your kind letter this afternoon and now proceed to answer. You can’t tell, Father, how cheering letters are—especially from home. I hardly know what a soldier would do without a letter once in a while. They seem to be the connecting link between we here and at home.
Of that money, I paid the freight and insurance here $1.25 as you will see by this receipt which I forward to you in this letter. They will I think refund the money—are bound to I believe.
I think it was a good sign that you were all well, you’re all being out coasting Christas. Am happy to know it was so.
I received a letter from Aunt Laura today. She writes that I always seem more than a nephew to her and seems to be pleased by my letters to her. I shall certainly try to merit her good opinion of me and will answer her letter tonight as I am acting as Officer of the Guard at the hospital—somewhat different from my regimental style of guard duty. You have a good idea of how that was done, I suppose. Now here I am in the ward room [with] a nice coal fire writing letters. Oh! here comes the sentry. Officer, a man without a pass, where does he belong? Just up the street here, was going home. All right, let him pass on. See how nice. Never leave the ward room—only every three hours to post a new guard. But, however, I don’t think I feel any greater man than when in the regiment, and only tank Providence that I got a good place when I most needed it.
Thomas seems to have had a hard time of it. His mother wrote an unconnected story of his sufferings seeming to feel much pride in his actions. Horace did marry one of the Eastman’s (Abby) and the day she wrote Horace and Henry were picking turkeys to send to you, That was the 20th.
Some talk of Burnside again commanding this Department. He would be warmly welcomed by all his old soldiers but still I hardly think it amounts to anything more than talk.
Everything is quiet here at present but rumors of an increase of force and an advance. Beaufort, however, is still quiet and probably will be, the only excitement being the enrollment order. One of the men of the hospital has ben at work for a fortnight now enrolling all—black and white—within the lines of this Sub District and there is talk of my relieving him tomorrow. As he is the Apothecary and much needed, the Dr. says I am the only one capable who can be spared to take his place.
The colored schools are seemingly doing well here. New Year’s Day they—Colored Citizens—gave a grand dinner, free to all in honor of the Emancipation Bill. Speeches were made and everything passed off in good style. The principle subject of their speeches was that McClellan was not the man for the next President and Old Abe should be reelected if their influence and votes would help the matter, and in that I heartily agree with them.
But Father, I must close. I haven’t written much because I hadn’t much to write and so excuse and give love and affection to all, and write soon again to your ever loving son, — John K.
1 Hammond Hospital was a Civil War hospital set up in the ransacked Atlantic Hotel in Beaufort, North Carolina. Union General John Gray Foster brought in nine Catholic nuns to provide nursing for “200 wounded and sick soldiers.” Source: Wagoner, M. (2020). Column: Beaufort’s Civil War hospital nursed soldiers back to health. Carolina Coast Online.
The following letter was written by Peter Renton Shepard (1839-1863) who enlisted in the US Marines on 2 May 1861 and served aboard the USS Susquehanna. When he enlisted he gave his birthplace as Canterbury, New Hampshire, and his residence as Boscawen. He further stated that he was single and was employed as a farmer. Muster records claim that Peter deserted from the service—which may be true—but cemetery records in Boscawen reveal that he died of “fever” on 25 September 1863 and his headstone informs us that he mustered into Co. E, 16th New Hampshire Vol. Infantry on 7 November 1862.
Peter was the son of John M. Shepard (1804-1874) and his wife Nancy (1807-1889) of Boscawen, New Hampshire.
The side-wheeled USS Susquehanna
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
U. S. Marine Barracks Washington, May 5th 1862
Dear Cousin,
Your letter was duly received and I was very happy to hear from you and to learn that Uncle, Aunt and Scott are well. I have been enlisted over a year but time has passed away so rapidly that it seems to be but a few days. I left Boston on the 3rd of last July for Hampton Roads. We arrived there on the 7th and while on our way up the beautiful Chesapeake the main shaft to one of the paddle wheels parted which compelled us to return back as far as Philadelphia to repair damages. There we remained until the 24th of August when we started again for the blockade.
On arriving at at the mouth of the Chesapeake we learned that the expedition which had been fitted up in that place for the purpose of capturing the rebel forts at Hatteras Inlet had left the day previous and left orders for us to join the fleet as soon as possible. All of us were in high spirits then at the prospect of having a brush with the rebels.
They are now flying from our victorious armies in every direction and we have now arrived at a point where we can look through the dark clouds that have surrounded us for the last year and behold in the distance bright visions of future glory for our Government and its institutions. Charles Ship and Jonathan’s son and George and James—Uncle Benjamin’s boys is in the sharpshooters. One of the boys was wounded last week by his side. There is nothing more to write about this time. I will close. Write again soon as convenient.
The following letter is a rare. It was written by Joseph Scott of Princeton, New Jersey—a 19 year-old free Black man who served in Co. D, 6th United States Colored Troops (USCT). His muster roll records inform us that he was 18 when he enlisted on 12 August 1863 at Philadelphia. He was describes as standing 5 feet 6 inches tall, brown eyes, dark hair and light complexion. It further informs us that he was born in Monmouth, New Jersey and was employed as a laborer. Census records reveal that Joseph was likely the son of Charles W. Scott (1820-1904) and Martha L. Byles (1820-1859). Charles was a mulatto who grew up in Upper Freehold, Monmouth county, and in the 1860 US Census he was enumerated near Allentown and employed as a 45 year-old butcher.
Joe entered the service as a private but he was promoted to corporal at the camp near Yorktown on 24 October 1863. Muster records also inform us that though Joe survived the war, he did not survive the service. He died on 26 September 1865 at Hicks U.S. General Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland of phithisis pulmonalis (tuberculosis). He was admitted on 24 September and died two days later. He was buried in Laurel Cemetery, Grave No. 226. 1
The letter was addressed to Henry E. Hale who I assume was Henry Ewing Hale (1840-1925), a young white man and an 1860 graduate of Princeton University. Why they would be correspondents, I can only conjecture though Hale may have maintained such communication in his capacity as secretary of the Princeton Standard and Trenton newspapers while he attended graduate school.
The following excerpts pertaining to the 6th USCT were lifted from Military Images Digital Magazine on June 2015, written by Candice Zollars:
“On Oct. 14, 1863, the 6th left Philadelphia for the Virginia coast and Fortress Monroe, where the regiment joined Gen. Benjamin F. Butler’s Army of the James. As the soldiers marched through the streets, one Philadelphia reporter stated, “They made a brilliant appearance.” The men and officers occupied the majority of their time on mundane tasks—performing fatigue and picket duty, guarding prisoners, tending horses, distributing rations and caring for the wounded. Nevertheless, one officer wrote with evident pride to a Philadelphia newspaper on Feb. 18, 1864, “Their clothes are dirtier and rustier, but the men stand more erect, and my regimental line, now, is almost motionless.”
“The regiment received its baptism under fire on June 15 when it participated in an assault on a section of Confederate earthworks near Petersburg. Capt. Harvey J. Covell of Company B described the fighting in a letter to his wife as “about as hot a place as I ever saw.” As Covell hid “behind a little tree a shell struck within a few feet and … exploded among us.” The men found that they could dodge the artillery fire “if it struck the ground before it reached us as it usually would.” One shell “exploded a few feet in front of me the balls and fragments flying all around me,” he wrote. Covell emerged unscathed from the engagement.
“On Sept. 29, the 6th participated in an assault on the Richmond defenses at New Market Heights. The regiment suffered heavy casualties—209 of 367 engaged, or a loss of 57 percent. Among the dead was Pvt. Hamilton, who had drawn a razor on Capt. McMurray in camp a few months earlier. The wounded included Capt. Robert B. Beath, who endured the amputation of his right leg. At one point during the fight, McMurray found Adjutant Charles V. York lying by a path in excruciating pain from a wound. McMurray took note of York’s position and continued on with his command.
“Maj. Gen. Butler praised the conduct of those in his command who fought at New Market Heights: “In the charge on the enemy’s works,” Butler noted, “better men were never better led, better officers never led better men. With hardly an exception, officers of colored troops have justified the care with which they have been selected.” He added, mindful of Northern critics of black soldiers in blue, “A few more such charges, and to command colored troops will be the post of honor in the American armies. The colored soldiers, by coolness, steadiness, and determined courage and dash, have silenced every cavil of the doubters of their soldierly capacity, and drawn tokens of admiration from their enemies.”
Emblem on regimental flag of the 6th USCT
Note: This letter is from the private collection of Greg Herr and was offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed Mr. Henry E. Hale, Princeton, New Jersey
Spring Hill [on Appomattox River 5 miles from Petersburg] June 7, 1864
I take this opportunity to write these few lines to you to let you know that I am well and hope these few lines will find you the same. We are quite busy here now working on forts now. 2 We are laying in sight of Petersburg. We can see the rebels working on the fort from where we are.
We had a skirmish fight with them. It commenced about 8 o’clock. It lasted all day. It was on last Tuesday. Five men of our regiment was wounded. No one killed. Some of the rebel deserters say that their loss was nine killed, forty wounded. There was several horses killed of the rebels. They threw a good many shells but they did not hurt much. They struck several tents in the fort but no one was in them and the picket line outside of the fort threw shells the other side of us.
No more at present. Corp. Joe Scott, 6th USCT, Co. D, Camp near City Point, Fortress Monroe, Va.
1 “Laurel Cemetery was incorporated in 1852 as Baltimore’s first nondenominational cemetery for African Americans. The location chosen was Belle Air Avenue (now Belair Road), on a hill long used as a burial ground for free and enslaved servants of local landowners. Laurel quickly became a popular place of burial for people across Black Baltimore’s socioeconomic spectrum, including the graves of 230 Black Civil War veterans, members of the United States Colored Troops (U.S.C.T.). After its creation, Laurel Cemetery was known as one of the most beautiful and prominent African American cemeteries in the city…. In the late 1800’s, annual parades and Memorial Day gatherings to honor and decorate the graves of the Black Civil War veterans occurred regularly at Laurel Cemetery, which was also the resting place of many prominent members of Baltimore’s African American population. Historical records show that in 1894, Frederick Douglass traveled to Laurel Cemetery to speak on the occasion of the unveiling of a monument honoring Bishop Daniel Alexander Payne, who served as the sixth Bishop of the African Methodist Episcopalian (A.M.E.) church, and was a founder and former president of Wilberforce University….The decline of Laurel Cemetery started in the early decades of the twentieth century. In 1911, the remains of the Civil War veterans were removed and reinterred at Loudon Park National Cemetery to accommodate the expansion of Belair Road.”
2 The fortification Joseph refers to came to be known as Redoubt Converse, intended for the protection of a pontoon bridge at that location.
Frederick Lang to William Skeen in 1861 in which he alludes to the ongoing crisis of the Union that was unfolding amidst the secession of southern states following Abraham Lincoln’s election.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Solitude, February 17th, 1861
Dear William,
Your scarcity of the 18th ultra came to hand and created quite a surprise. It was indeed a wonder that you wrote again. Do you know when you wrote to us last? I suppose not. But my letter records mention only one of January 12, 1858. That was the last, excepting the few lines you wrote to me of brother Charles’ letters. Well! no odds! it has come at last and so allow me before everything else to congratulate you on the happy increase of your family. You have as good fortune as we had—a boy first to keep up the name, then a gal to please the mother. I hope you are enjoying as good health as we are. My girl begins to talk quite smartly and is as lively as a cricket. I often wish you could come out to see where & how we live. Can you not make it come around to pay us as a visit before the family increases again??
The news of the death of so many persons known to us has been communicated by our Water Cure correspondents, but your information about Charles Steubgen has been welcome & painful—welcome because I heard nothing of him for a long time in spite of my endeavors to find out his whereabouts; painful because it shows a great lack of friendship, which I am nearly forced to call professed friendship, as nothing but death could excuse Charley’s long inexplicable silence. I wrote to Dr. Held, his brother-in-law in Saxon C. If he is a gentleman, he will answer my letter. What the result will be remains to be seen.
I hope you are at work again, although times have not revived much yet [and] I doubt their getting much better before the crisis is over! We are getting along very well. Farmers generally have the least to suffer in such matters—that is, independent farmers, but I cannot call myself quite that yet, although it goes as well as can be expected. We have enough of everything except money. If we had had enough of that, we could have come in to see you.
Where do you work at present? Out in Bayard town’s shovel factory yet? How do you prosper? Do you intend to spend all your life in the city, or have you a distant wish of becoming a farmer? Is brother Charles in the bakery yet, & boarding with you? Give him my regards and get him to write when you write again. Ernest will drop a few lines to him. Is he a Democrat or Republican? Write soon & much and get your wife to write some too. To say that you are a poor writer will not excuse you. You can write a good interesting letter if you wish to. But there is the rub; if you would spend as much time in writing to me as you do in reading the Ledger or Dispatch, we might keep up a regular correspondence. You probably say you would not know what to write if you would write often informing me of everyday occurrences. In fact, everything is interesting if it comes from distant & cherished friends!
We had a nice winter—plenty of good sleighing, and the ground was open for only a few days this week. Yesterday & today it is falling briskly with a good prospect for another sleighing. It is just the kind of weather I want for wheat. I like to see winter in the right time and be done with it at the end of March or beginning of April. I am in hopes of an early Spring. Hoping soon to hear from you & including my best and my earnest best regards to yourself, wife and brother Charley, I remain your ever sincere friend, — Fred. Lang
The following letter was written by James Perry Cowles (1830-1913) who enlisted on 7 November 1861 at the age of 31 as a bugler in Co. H, 10th New York Cavalry to serve three years. He was captured at Sulphur Springs, Virginia, on 12 October 1863; paroled prisoner, April 28, 1865; mustered out, July 1, 1865. at New York city.
James wrote the letter to his mother, Lois Ann (Browning) Cowles of Orwell, Bradford county, Pennsylvania.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Havre de Grace Camp Shields, Co. H April [May] 5, 1862
Dear Mother,
Your kind letter of April 29th was received Saturday and read by me with the greatest pleasure. I was extremely glad to hear of your good health and sincerely hope that it may continue. My health is as good as usual which is generally better than when I was at home. I have nothing to complain of in the way of living as our army provisions tastes as good as cakes, pies and puddings used to and I never have to hunt after my appetite as it always makes out to be around about meal time and doesn’t get lost, strayed, nor stolen.
There is twenty men in the squad which I am in. We draw our rations and live by ourselves. We dug a place in a bank and put a roof over it and closed up the front side in which is a door and window. This we use as a kitchen. For a dining room we put up a large round tent called the Sibley tent, so that a part of the tent reaches over the kitchen, from which we pass the dishes and grub through a hole in the ground to the tables which by close packing will accommodate all of us. There is a fine spring of good water which we have opened within 30 feet of our cook room. We have another tent of the same size as the first which is used for sleeping and sitting room. The tents are better than the barracks for they do not leak so much when it rains and can be well ventilated when it is hot by moving a bonnet on the top.
It was quarterly meeting at the Methodist Church here yesterday. They run the love feast on the ticket plan so that a soldier could not get in. I went to the 11 o’clock services and heard the Presiding Elder preach a first rate sermon. He was not afraid to put himself squarely on the side of the Union and the Government which is more than the regular preacher does as he has strong sympathies with the rebellion or is said to have, and I think with truth for he does not seem to like the northern soldiers much. There was not as many people to the church yesterday forenoon to hear the Elder as usually turns out on Sunday evenings to hear the resident preacher. His small congregation was not the result of any lack of talent on his part but probably comes from the secession tendencies of the people here.
I had a letter last week from Betsy & heard of your being in that neighborhood. Also that Grandpa and Grandma had got back to their house to live. Give them my love and tell that I shall come back to see them when the war is over which I think will be soon. Tell Miss Emma that I hope that her eyes will soon be well so that I can have a line from her which I shall be looking for. It is raining a fine shower and our supper is coming up so that I shall bring this to a close by sending my love to all and subscribe myself your most dutiful son, — J. P. Cowles
I could not find an image of Wallace but here is one of William A. Wood of Co. A, 2nd New York Cavalry (Jim Jezorski Collection)
The following letter was written by 24 year-old Wallace A. Bishop (1837-1862) of Co. D, 2nd New York Cavalry. He died of disease, November 28, 1862, near Warrrenton, Va. An obituary notice for him claims that “the deceased was a young man of fine talents and much promise; and in the summer of 1861 was a student in the law office of S. W. Kellogg in this place [Waterbury, CT]. Immediately after the battle of Bull Run, without waiting for a regiment to be formed in this State, he sought the first opportunity to give his services to his country, by volunteering with Captain, then Lieutenant, Marcus Coon in the squadron of Harris Light Cavalry, raised in this State under Major Mallory of Watertown. He did his duty as a patriot and a soldier in all places and won the praises of his officers by his strict performance of duty and devotion to his country’s cause. At the time Gen. Burnside marched from Warrenton to Fredericksburg in November last, Sergeant Bishop was left behind in a farm house, being too sick with fever to be removed. The rebels took possession of the place and from that time, his friends have been in utter ignorance in regard to his fate, yet hoping almost against hope that he might yet be restored to them, A short time since, his company made a foraging expedition to the place and on enquiry, found that he died suddenly after a partial recovery, and after being paroled by the rebels, at the house where he was left. The writer of this knew him well, and knew his generous and self-sacrificing traits of character; and it is no vain or unmeaning eulogy to say that one of the noblest young men from this neighborhood, who has fallen in the great struggle for a Nation’s life, was Wallace A. Bishop.”
Wallace was the son of William R. Bishop (1806-1883) and Augusta Maria Sheldon (1812-1897). Wallace had an older brother named Hobart H. Bishop (1836-1865) who also died in the war. He was a sergeant in Co. L, 1st Connecticut Cavalry. He died at his father’s house in Plymouth on New Year’s Day, 1865, after his release from Andersonville Prison where he had been confined many months which broke his health. The letter was probably written to Mary A. Bishop (1839-1906).
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Sussex Washington D. C. October 3rd 1861
My dear sister,
Your letter of the 27th ult. came last evening. It was the first letter I had received since leaving Scarsdale and the second since leaving home. To say I was rejoiced to get it would convey no adequate idea of the pleasure it gave. I have written ten times and think it rather saucy that four-fifth of my conversations should remain unanswered. Only three of the letters, two to Mother and one to you, were sent home. I am very sorry that the family letter miscarried. I have received a paper from Father for which I am greatly obliged. J. B.(I suppose it means Joel Blakeslee) has sent me a paper also. I wish you would thank him if you have an opportunity.
But I suppose you would like to hear of the camp. And to begin with I will give you the calls that you may have an idea approaching adequate of our daily duties and of the little time we have to devote to our correspondents and ourself. At 6 a.m. reveille, watering call 6.30, stable call 7, breakfast 7.30, guard mounting and sick call 8, drill no horse 9 to 12, watering 12.15 p.m. to 12.30, takes an hour, dinner 1 drill to horse 2 to 4, drill to sabre 4 to 5, retreat 5, watering 5.30, stable 6, supper 7, non-commissioned officers recitation 7.30, commissioned officers recitation 8.30, tattoo 9, taps or lights out 9.30. Add to this time taken after retreat for duty impossible to perform in it, appointed seasons and for fatigue work necessary to our comfort, and for housekeeping and for burnishing arms and for the thousand and one little things that spring up unexpectedly during every hour of duty free and you can see that a cavalry man’s place is no sinecure.
One squadron of the regiment has moved since I wrote you and there is talk of our following them shortly but we place no reliance upon it. they have gone, I believe, where they can combine instruction with experience but I apprehend that the proportions of the the former will be very large in the mixture. As no doubt you have inferred, I have my horse and with the exception of my revolver (here but not given), my arms. The former is medium sized handsome bay which on the trot, gallop, or run is a match for anything that sports legs. I call him Rocker and sit him so easily. My sabre is a light, keen blade and I think I shall become as adept in its [ ]. I can already handle it well.
I am living like a prince just now for in addition to Uncle Sam’s fodder, Charlie Lewis—one of my boys who has just received a box from home—permitted me with cake of various kinds, cheese, butter, pickles &c. ad infinitum and I occasionally go beyond the lines to get persimmons and grapes of which goodies there are quantities in the forest all around. I have just returned from one of these rambles (my nag is slightly distempered and I’m off drill) upon which I fell in with a slave who gave me a drink of whiskey—villainous stuff—and very much valuable information. After quite a talk I asked him how much his master paid for him and was so startled by the train of thought that the question evoked that I turned and told [ ] that it was for the first time such humiliation [ ] my life. He said he was born in the place [ ]… I can whip Old Rheumatism with both hands or any other man … Love to all, your affectionate brother, — Wallace A. Bishop
The following letter was written by Theodore Jones (1826-1868) of Summit county, Ohio, who informs us that he enlisted on 22 October 1861 in Co. H, 29th Ohio Vol. Infantry (OVI). He was married in June 1854 to Catherine Fritman. Muster rolls state he remained with the regiment until April 15, 1865 when he transferred into the Veteran Reserve Corps. There is a Theodore Jones who was buried in the Clinton Cemetery, Summit county, Ohio, whose death date was given sa 12 July 1868. A son lies by his side named Harry F. Jones but the marker is so worn it can’t be read.
Patriotic stationery, “Ohio, ever loyal to the Union and the Constitution.”
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Giddings, Jefferson, Ashtabula Co., Ohio December 20, 1861
Dear Brother,
As I have enlisted as a bold soldier in the United States army for the term of three years and have not heard from you in a long time, I thought I would now employ a few moments by writing to you with the expectation of receiving an answer immediately. I believe that since I last wrote to you, I have been married. I have now been married about five years. I have since had the sad misfortune of loosing a son who was 3 years and two months old. He was a noble child and loosing him was a hard task. I live in Clinton, Summit county, Ohio. I own a house and lot there and live very comfortably when I am at home.
But on the 22nd of October 1861 I enlisted at my country’s call to go a soldiering. I am in the 29th [Ohio] Regiment, Co. H, Col. [Lewis P.] Buckley. He is a splendid commander and has the best regiment in Ohio. He was Major of the 19th Ohio Regiment in the three months service and showed himself to be a good military man. We have been in this camp two months but are a going to leave here next Monday morning for Columbus, Ohio, where we expect to stay this winter, and from there expect to go into Kentucky and clean the Rebels out of that state.
I will now give you an idea of our maneuvers in camp, We live in round tents, 10 of us in a tent. We have plenty of good blankets, good victuals, and good clothes. We are all furnished with a good warm overcoat. We have to get up at six o’clock in the morning, get our breakfast at seven o’clock, drill from eight to half past ten, have Battalion drill from one till three, and dress parade from four to five o’clock. Then we have supper and pass the evening telling stories &c. At eight o’clock we have to go to bed. That is the way we pass the day—only when the weather is bad, then we lay in our tents and kick up our heels like young colts in their glory (or in nice clover).
Our regiment is well equipped and all we now ask is to go into active service and we will show them that the 29th is O. K. in the land. Since I came into camp, my wife gave birth to a young son which I have not yet seen and therefore cannot say much about him. Clinton is situated on the Tuscarawas River and has canal and railroad. It is a very flourishing place but a little dull at present. I have no more news that could be of any importance to you so I will close by asking you to answer soon. Direct your answer to Columbus, Ohio, Camp Chase, 29th Regt. Co H, care of Capt. [Jonas] Schoonover. Your affectionate brother, — T. Jones
Spared & Shared 23 