Camp Parole, Annapolis, Maryland February 24th 1865
Dear Friend Edwin,
It has been quite a while since I have written or heard from any of my folks or friends so do not know whether they are all alive or not. I have not written to my folks yet since I was released. I arrived here last Sunday and am as well as can be expected after starving in the Libby four months but thank God I am out of it alive. I shall not write to my folks because I shall be at home on a furlough next week if nothing happens. If you see any of them, you can tell them my furlough was made out yesterday and today I was mustered for two months pay. As soon as we get that, we shall start. I think it we will get it Monday. I hope this will find you all well and alive. Goodbye for the present. From your friend, — Edward Phillips
The following letter was written by Francis (“Frank”) Henry Whitcomb (1846-1904) who enlisted in December 1863 to serve as a private in Co. K, 1st Massachusetts Heavy Artillery. He was the son of Asa Whitcomb (1799-1868) and Adaline Augusta Hoar (1813-1892) of Bolton, Worcester, Massachusetts. Frank claimed he was 18 when he enlisted but he was really just 17. Frank mustered out of the regiment on 16 August 1865 at Washington D. C. and returned to Massachusetts where he became a shoemaker in Hudson. He later married Carrie Brigham (1850-1894).
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Fort Tillinghast March 18th 1864
Dear Sister,
I now seat myself to let you know that I was well and hoping this letter will find you the same. As John nor James have not written me for some reason best known to themselves, I will write to you and I hope you will give them hail Columbia in your next letter.
Have you got my miniature yet? If you have not, go to Mother and tell her to give you one if you want one and tell her to send me a couple of dollars in her next letter, will you? Tell Nettie that he is a bully fellow to send me them slate pencils. The cannons are making such a damn noise and shake the barracks so I can’t write no more than the Devil. I have got the shakes too and cannot hardly hold my pen. We are having a pretty hard time of it now—work day and night—but cuss the odds. I hain’t got but 33 months to serve in this damned hole.
Grant has taken command of the Army of the Potomac. Goodbye for I cannot write for I am so full of [smudged] — Frank Whitcomb
Frank Whitcomb, Company K, 1st Mass. H. A., Washington D. C.
There were several farmers by the name of Samuel Yoder who lived in Union county at the time this letter was written. I’m inclined to believe it was the one born in 1824 but could be wrong. The Yoder surname is closely associated with the Mennonite and Amish faiths who generally shunned war and I suspect Samuel’s religious principles steered him toward the “Peace” candidate in 1864.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Hartleton P. O., Union county, Pa. November 10, 1864
Sir,
I seen your friend John V. Carver and he told me that there was some chance to get farms in your neighborhood. I want to rent a farm. I have to leave the farm where I am on because I am a Democrat [and] my landlord is an abolitionist. He wants me to vote for Old Abe but I could not do so. He says I can’t farm for him if I don’t vote with him. If you will enquirer for a farm for me, you will oblige me. — Samuel Yoder
I am a poor scholar but my neighbors say I am a good farmer. I think I will come up to see you next week.
I could not find an image of Frank but here is one of Perry Coleman who also served in Co. C, 10th Massachusetts Infantry.
The following letters were written by Francisco (“Frank”) C. Park (1840-1932), the son of Harvey Hart Park (1815-1892) and Sarah F. Amidon (1817-1895) of Monson, Hampden county, Massachusetts. Frank enlisted in June 1861 to serve in Co. C, 10th Massachusetts Infantry. At the time of his enlistment he was described as standing 5 feet 7.5 inches tall, with blue eyes and gray hair. He remained in the service until 1 July 1864. I’m not certain who the first letter was addressed to but the second was his mother and younger sister Sarah E. Park (1846-1907) who married John Thayer b. 1835) in September 1863. John Thayer was probably the older brother of Josiah Thayer who served in the 10th Massachusetts with Frank.
Frank’s second and third letters unveil the brooding thoughts of a weary warrior disillusioned by the monotony of war and the drudgery of camp life.
Letter One
[Kalorama Heights or Camp Brightwood near Washington D. C.] Friday [September?] 13th 1861
Another day has gone and another morn has dawned, calm and fine as the eye ever beheld or the mind conceived of. We have been paid off and the boys more than had a gay time last night. It was one round of noise all night. After we got our pay, we took our guns and relieved the company that was on guard while they got their pay. While we was standing guard, that old devil of a tooth began to ache and I got a little mad and swore it should come out and I got a boy to take my place and with gun upon my shoulder, off to the hospital started and had two pulled. It hurt like thunder but damn the odds. The doctor said he never pulled any quite so tough in his life and if I had not been as gritty as the devil, the second one would have stayed in my head. But when I make up my mind, it won’t change easy—not for trifles.
Smith is still alive and seems to be a little better. The West Springfield boy’s folks cannot be heard from so they have concluded to bury him upon the ground and the services will be performed at nine this morn.
As for the revolvers, we want a good rig, good sheathes. The money we are a going to send by Express the first time it comes up here so you may keep your eye open for the package. I still remain well. So does Josiah [Thayer]!
Tell Mrs. Morrison that when I come home, I will call and get some cider. Tell her that I am all right and hope she is the same. I have not time to write to them as I promised and said I would yesterday but I have no time so shall have to let it go for this time. So goodbye for now.
I remain your true friend and also the poor soldier boy in health and in happiness. Love to all, so farewell till my next which I shall send Monday. — Frank C. Park
Directions. I will send in the Express package for all the needful.
Letter Two
Harrison’s Landing July 22nd 1862
Stray thoughts. The day is fine still. The sun is hid most of the time. It is cool and nice—the most comfortable day I have seen for a long time. It is also very quiet. No guns are heard from the time the signal gun is fired at 4 o’clock, until sunset when another is fired and then, for as much as an hour, the bugle is heard in all directions and roll call has to be tended to before anything can be had for supper or “tea.” Then by the time supper is well finished, it is dark and off to bed (such as it is) and repose until morn and dream of that Haven of rest and that home long since left behind and those kind friends left for a long time unseen! To dream of home is very fine, but when one comes to awake and finds it but a dream, it changes the aspect of affairs and a dead gloom will, in spite of oneself, settle upon him and for a time makes a person almost hate himself for being in such a place as the one at present occupied by us. For a change in the program I will write a few of the past incidents that have occurred since I became a soldier in the service of the Union, or United States, and lastly but not least in the Army of the Potomac.
The first will be a great many little thoughts that came into my mind while I roamed over the Battlefield at Williamsburg or at Fort Magruder. When I first gazed upon the remains of a dead soldier, a feeling of deep dread came over me. But it soon passed away and I gazed upon many cold and stiffened forms and thought of the friends and I think experienced some of their feelings for I felt as if my friends might sooner or later be called to mourn for me as one who on the altar of Liberty & Union gave up that hearts blood.
The sights to be seen upon the field of battle after the night of war has ceased “beggars all description” by words & the pen. To see one’s comrades lay mangled, dying & dead upon the cold ground, and perhaps will have to lay there forever and their bones bleach and pass into nonidentity and their last place of rest be unknown to those so dear in life, still dearer when in death “that form is laid.” But such is the fate of many who one year ago were enjoying all the pleasures of camp life around Washington and happy and gay as any of us. But they are gone and may they rest in peace.
While I write, one little piece of circumstance that has come before my notice within the past few days, is the case of E. F. Wiley of Belchertown. Some three weeks ago it became visible that he was upon the decline, but still the doctors reported him for duty about every other day until three days before he got his furlough to go home. He started for home scarce able to stand and got as far as New York and there died, thus showing the great skill and knowledge of our doctors. The very morn he started, one of the hospital nurses said all that was the matter with him was he was run down and would be well enough in a few days if he took care of himself. He died and it is the talk of the whole regiment how our sick are treated, and the doctor is often asked how such a one is, he will snap up us short [by saying], “He is some better.” I tell you, it is devilish rough when a man is scarce able to hold his lead up to be snapped at and then be reported for duty and have to go into the pits and work a couple of hours in the place of any medicine and quiet rest that one so much needs. Well, the fact is, a man has got to be on the brink of the grave before he is considered sick in the least. As one fellow told them, “A day will come when this can all be squared up, and if you get your just deserts, you will be made to suffer for many lives.”
Having had a night’s repose, I am again seated to write a few lines more and today I will write a few incidents of camp life. For instance, a detail of our daily duty. In the morn as soon as the gun is fired on board of the Signal Ship, the bugles begin their noise. Soon orderlies begin to holler, “Fall in for roll call,” which being done, some retire for another snooze, while more commence to get them breakfast—a dainty meal fit for a king. It generally consists of coffee and government shingles. Once in a while we have a change from this but it is so seldom that it can’t be noted.
Breakfast being over, then, if no detail happens to take, you go thy way until twelve when there is another roll call and all who absent themselves are reported to the Colonel immediately. After this comes dinner which consists of soup or slush, fresh meat or horse salt, cold water is the beverage most used, for the tea is mostly peach leaves, and the coffee I should call burned peas, for it tastes as bitter as the Old Harry [Devil]. The tea is as black as jet and is not fit to be thrown to hogs. Along in the afternoon or near supper time, rations are given out and then how they rush, sugar, tea & coffee in vast quantities being given out. The largest amount of sugar for two days is two teaspoonfuls, tea about the same, and coffee ditto! About half past five, the devilish bugles commence again and roll call comes off again and then supper, which consists of cold junk and shingles. When darkness comes the candles are lit and many sit down to write, others to read, and more to have a social game of Euchre or Pitch. Thus the day passes away and night comes again to relieve us of duties of camp.
This morn I went down to the river and had a fine swim; also viewed the shipping in the river. Saw some fine fish caught out in the river for which one had to pay 25 cents or less according to the size. The Cheese box [U.S.S. Monitor] was just visible up the river on picket, nothing being visible but the box. In gazing down the river, a larger number of transports lay at anchor and some discharging their cargo. But I am away from my theme, and so will again return to camp.
“The Cheese box [U.S.S. Monitor] was just visible up the river on picket, nothing being visible but the box. “
We have had quite hard times to get water, it being along distance to the spring. But as Yankees are in for all improvements, so they still are in camp life, for they have been and dug wells 20 & 30 feet deep, and Oh, have found good water, thus taking a large share of the fatigue duty off from our shoulders for the bringing of water was all the fatigue we had to do. Now this is quite lazy business I tell you, and I am afraid that I shall never be worth a darn to work when I get home. But let me get home and I will see if work would trouble me for a time—guess it would trouble me for a week or two “by Thunder.”
As regards the health of the regiment, it is quite poor at the present time but the general opinion is if the doctors were worth a pinch of cold dirt, they might be different operations in respect to sickness in camp. But they don’t call a man sick until the angel of death calls for him. Then he begins to be sick. There are many boys now around camp who are not fit to be about or even stir, but they are still reported for duty and have to move around just as much as those who are well and hearty, and it comes rather hard for us have always been used to good and kind usage and good nursing when sick. But here a fellow has to sleep on the ground and take care of himself and finally die—alone. More some other rime. (Love to all)
I will bet that you dare not fill a box with some eatables and send them to me and put in some butter & sugar and some cake that will keep five or six days when well done up in paper. If you will send me, I will send the money when we get paid off. Put in some cookies and never mind the cost but send me the bill for I am half starved by thunder. Stamp it instead of Washington to Fortress Monroe, Va. Keyes Corps. Co. C, 10th Massachusetts Volunteers
Letter 3
In camp near Falmouth, Va. February 18, 1863
Friends at home,
Your letter came to hand several days ago and as I have had no time until now, it has gone like three more unanswered. But today having finished my duty rather earlier than common and a rain having set in, my trunk is the place for me to seek quiet and comfort, tough it is not as good as a common pig sty at home. But Mother & Sister, in it I have often penned lines to you and through the blessing of a kind and governing hand, I am still left to pen another. Also within its narrow limits have I read those sweet and cheering news from loved ones at home and laid down my head pillowed in my knapsack and dreamt dreams of those who by their quiet firesides are whiling away happy moments and hours scarcely casting one thought of those here living the life of privation and even suffering. How long shall this last is the question that I am unable to answer, but sincerely hope not long, for being worn out and tired of such a life it is but misery to stay here, even when ones thoughts are allowed to stray back to times of old when by a cheerful fire the family circle was complete. But how many of these bright circles are broken? How many are caused to morn a link gone, never to be replaced or filled by another? Alas, it is sad even for us to think of. We who have become hardened to all kinds of sights and toughened to all exposure. Memory will cling like the woodbine to an ancient house hard to be disengaged.
The dreams of a solder are all vanity. The reality is for others to enjoy—those who have been more wise and stayed at home. But let this suffice. We are as happy & contented as one can possibly be in this God forsaken country that we are sole inhabitants of at the present time. The principle notable features are wind and rain, snow and slush, back your wood a mile or more, live in burrows like the animals of the North, used like mules for all sorts of business, even to backing wood for shoulder straps. Then when it is fair weather, give us some of the most unearthly drills ever thought of. But there is no use of grumbling. They have the power and they exercise it. Darn me if they don’t. It is near dark and I must close for tonight.
February 19, 1863. This morn at roll call Josiah again answered to his name. He brought quite a number of things for me that were very handy said to have been sent by the Young Ladies Aid Society. You ask me to write a letter to be read before it. Well it is too much out of my line of duty so I guess they will have to be among the number to wait for thanks until I come there in person.
More by and by. I will send this for the fun of it. You can see by it some of my thoughts.
The following Prisoner of War (POW) Letter was penned by Reuben M. Colby (1839-1893) who served in Co. B, 20th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI). He entered the service on 27 April 1861 as a sergeant in Co. H and was promoted to sergeant in Co. B in September 1861. He was next commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in January 1863 and a 1st Lieutenant in July 1864. He finally mustered out as a Captain on 15 July 1865. In 1850, 10 year-old Reuben was living with his parents, Simeon and stepmother Marianne (Porter) Colby in Roxbury, Norfolk, Massachusetts. In 1860, Reuben was working as a carpenter in Louisville, Kentucky.
In his brief letter—limited to one page by military authorities—Reuben informs his correspondent that he was taken prisoner at the Battle of Atlanta on 22 July 1864 and was imprisoned a month later in Charleston, South Carolina, after being held briefly at Macon.
The Charleston City Jail was used to hold Union Officer Prisoners. Over 2,000 were held here in the fall of 1864 though many of them had to sleep outside.(LOC)
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Mr. Eliphalet Smith, West Cambridge, Massachusetts
Military Prison, Charleston, S. C. August 21st 1864
Dear friend Lipha,
Here I am actually caged a Prisoner of War after so long. I was captured on the 22nd of July at or near Atlanta. I was sent from Atlanta to Macon, Georgia, and then here. We are receiving better treatment here than at any place we have been yet. I hope soon to be exchanged for this thing of being a prisoner is anything but pleasant I assure you.
Please write to Dr. L. W. Jenness, Lowell, Mass., and tell him of my misfortune. Give my love to Clara and all friends. Respectfully in haste. — Lieut. R. M. Colby
Please write me soon and let me know all the news. Also I would like you to write to Lieut. Colonel John C. Fry, commanding 20th Regiment O. V. Infantry and tell him to send you my personal effects as I had a valuable lot of things in my valise—that is, to me. Yours, — Rube
The following letter was written by George M. Chambers (1842-1907) of Lisbon, St. Lawrence county, New York. George was a sergeant in Co. D, 39th New York Infantry—sometimes called the “Garibaldi Guard.” Initially, the regiment was divided into ten companies of men of different national heritage: three German, three Hungarian, one Swiss, one Italian, one French, one Portuguese and Spanish. On May 31, 1863, the regiment was consolidated into four companies: A, B, C and D. The regiment expanded as new companies were recruited in the field. On December 8, 1863, Company E was added; on December 14, 1863, Company F joined. On December 19, 1863, Company G was added; and on December 30, 1863 Company H joined. Companies I and K joined in January, 1864. Companies A, B, C and D were mustered out in New York city June 24, 1864. Enlistees who were not entitled to be discharged were transferred to other companies within the regiment. Six companies: E, F, G, H, I and K, remained in service. In October, 1864, a new Company D, mustered mostly from Malone, New York joined the regiment for one year. George Chambers would have been in this last enlistment. He was still employed as a 20 year-old farmer in Lisbon at the time of the 1863 Draft Registration. He wrote the letter to his older sister, Rachel Chambers (1826-1880) who died single.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Fort Stevenson 1 November 27th 1864
Rachel,
Col. Augustus Funk (1841-1883), 39th NY Infantry
I received your letter a few days ago and was glad to hear you were all well & take the opportunity of writing a few lines to let you know that I am well. We had a good deal of rainy weather here but it has cleared off & is pleasant now. We came to this fort on Friday. It is about 4 miles from Fort Rice on the left. It is a new fort & is nearly completed. Our regiment is assigned to this fort. We have put up temporary tents outside until we get up our winter quarters inside of the fort. The Colonel arrived from New York on Thursday. He is a pleasant looking fellow. His name is [Augustus] Funk.
Stephen Van Rensselaer came here Friday. He is a lieutenant in Co. E of this regiment & has been absent for several months. We had a very good Thanksgiving dinner from the good things that were sent from New York for the soldiers. We had turkey, fried cake, apple pie, biscuits &c. &c. I received John & Henry’s letter and one from Red & Marthy some days ago but have not had an opportunity of answering. I will have more time to write when we get into winter quarters. A good many deserters are coming in now. There was 40 privates & a lieutenant came in a few days ago. They say the times are hard in the Confederacy. Their rations per day consist of 3/4 per lb. of meal & 1/4 lb. of pork.
I had a letter from Mose a few days ago. He was well. We have just been on inspection. There is a weekly inspection every Sabbath morning & Dress Parade. There is a regular mounted guard around this fort & a Provost or picket guard out about a hundred rods from here & a cavalry picket out about two miles from here. There is a host of cavalry stationed here. They make raids occasionally on the Rebels and bring in sheep, cattle, &c.
This fort is some ways from the front. The 14th Artillery is but a short distance from here. A Belden boy was over here last night to see his brother who is in our company. The boys are all pretty well. Tuttle is coming back from the hospital this week. There is nothing new to write. I will write again in a few days. My respects to everybody. — George M. Chambers, Fort Stevenson, Va.
1 Fort Stevenson was described by Theodore Lyman, a member of Meade’s staff, as being by the William House, near the Jerusalem Plank Road, not far from Petersburg, Va. On 14 October 1864 he described Fort Stevenson as nearly done, “a work of large relief, capable of sheltering near 1,000 men and with a bastion front.” [The Private Notebooks of Lt. Col. Theodore Lyman, Edited by David Lowe, Kent State University Press, 2007]
I could not find an image of Charles but here is one of Dexter Berry, Co. I, 107th New York Infantry (Photo Sleuth)
The following letter was written by Charles E. Potter (1834-1904) who served in Co. H, 107th New York Infantry. Charles was married to Mary S. Warren (1834-1894) and residing in Hector, Schuyler county, New York, at the time of the 1860 US Census. He was employed as a carpenter. His son, Lyman, was two years old.
According to muster rolls, Charles enlisted on 29 July 1862 as a private; was promoted to corporal not long after, and was promoted to sergeant in March 1863. He was discharged from the service in mid-June 1865.
Charles’ letter refers to the Battle of 2nd Bull Run which was fought between 28 August and 30 August, 1862, in Prince William county, Virginia.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Fort Lyon (Washington D. C. Defenses] August 28, 1862
My Dear Companion,
All is quiet in our camp as usual this morning. There was quite an excitement in camp last night. Some of the officers told us that the Rebs was coming and that we had got to fight. They done it to try the men, I expect. There was a bright light seen during the night. It is thought that it was burned by the rebels. I am going on guard at one o’clock today for the first time. We go on two hours and off four, for 24 hours. I had as soon be on guard as not.
I sent a letter to George Burritt this morning. I neglected to state the other time I wrote that there was a man arrested here Sunday on suspicion of intention of poisoning the well and was found with poison in his pockets. What will be done with him, I cannot tell. The wells and springs are guarded very close now.
I have not heard from Mother since I left. I spoke about sending me a box in my last letter. Mark Smith has gone home. He lives at Wayne. He is our Captain’s 1 waiter. He is coming back in 8 or 10 days. He said that he might perhaps go to Burdett before he came back. If so, he would fetch me some things. I would like to have some summer savory, a little dried fruit, a paper of salaretin, and what[ever] else you had a mind to send. If you send any fruit, send it before it is soft so that it will not rot or bruise. Get some soft pine shavings and pack them in. A dozen onions and some tomatoes would not come bad. Don’t send me any clothing yet.
I have not got my month’s pay yet. I don’t think that is paying in advance very much. You will get 10 dollars of it. You need not tell folks how much I send. I don’t blame boys for spending a considerable money. I presume I would do it if I was a single man. There is everything to tempt a fellow—peaches, watermelons, cakes, pies, and a hundred other things of like character.
Mary, I want you to write to me once a week anyhow and tell me all about matters and things that you think I would like to hear. I have not got but one from you yet. I guess I will bring my letter to a close. Tell Lyman to be a good boy, feed the chickens, eat bread, and not run away. This I send you is a sprig of holly I plucked from a bush in our camp. Goodbye Mary and Lyman. — C. E. Potter
August 29th. Half past six in the morning. Good morning Mary. I thought I would write a little to you this morning before I have to mount guard again. I have to go on at 7 and come off at 9 and then I am through till my turn comes again. I presume there is 75 thousand troops within a mile and a half of here. McClellan’s army has fell back to this vicinity and Pope’s army is retreating and the Rebels following. They want to draw the Rebels out of their hiding places. McClellan’s army is a going to march today, I expect, to join Pope and give the Rebels what they deserve.
I expected a letter from you last night certain but I was disappointed. I want you to write often. Has Al Coon paid you that $1.50 for that cradle scythe? Has Tom Van Dorn paid you yet? How does father pay up? Write me all these particulars and oblige your friend and companion, — Charles
1 The Captain of Co. H, 107th New York Infantry at the time was Erastus C. Clark. He was wounded in action at Antietam on 17 September 1862 and discharged for disability a couple months later.
The following letters were written by Henry Russell (1843-1891), the son of Josiah G. Russell and Lucinda Cobb of Tioga county, New York. Henry enlisted on 1 November 1, 1861 at Binghamton to serve three years in the 16th New York Independent Battery but he was discharged for disability less than a year later on 12 August 1862 at Fairfax Seminary General Hospital. After regaining his health, Henry reenlisted on 4 January 1864 as a private in Co. E, 50th New York Engineers. He mustered out with his company on 13 June 1865, at Fort Barry, Va.
Henry wrote all of the letter to his “Dear Abbie”—Abigail Saphrona Skinner (1848-1921). They were married in 1865 when Henry returned from the service.
All three of Henry’s letters were written on patriotic stationery with printed poems or songs, including “The Battle of Antietam,” “Lady Love,” and “The Dying Soldier Boy.”
Letter 1
Camp near Petersburg October 29, 1864
Dear Abbie,
I received your kind & welcome letter today & was very glad to hear from you. I am well & hope these few lines will find you the same. I had had two other letters from you that i did not answer. I have not had any time to answer them. We have had all the work we could do. We have built three forts since I wrote to you. We have worked every day for—well, I do not know how long, Sundays and all. I have got five or six letters that I have not answered; two from Charles, one from George.
We got our last fort done last Wednesday [Oct. 26] in the forenoon. Then we had to march about three miles to where we are now. We stade here all night and the next day and until two o’clock the next morning [Oct. 28]. We then went about two miles and a half and formed a line of battle. We stade there til last night [when] we came back. There was hard fighting on our right & on our left but there was no fighting where we were not did we expect any. We were put there for a show more than anything else. If the rebs had made a charge on us, I don’t think they would have made much for we were behind strong breastworks & I do not think they could had took them very well as long as the 50th Engineers were there. Well enough of this. 1
I undertook to answer the other two letters. I wrote one but did not have a chance to send it. Then one night I built a fire and that smoked so that I could not write but I think now that [I can write as] we will have a few days rest. We have not done anything today. You thought because I did not write that I was coming home. Well, I can have a furlough for thirty days and seven hundred dollars if I will enlist for five years. Now would you enlist or not? I will do just as you say.
Well, it is getting late and I must close. I hope, dear, that I can write oftener. I wish that this cruel war, or nigger war, was over for your sake. You don’t know how I want to see you. Dear Abbie, you do not know how often I think of you. Now do not think that I will not prove true. I know that you will be true to the last. This s all. Write soon from your ever true and faithful Henry
To Abbie.
1 The “hard fighting” heard by Henry was undoubtedly from Grant’s 6th offensive against Petersburg with the goal of cutting the Confederate supply lines. An offensive was initiated on the right while Grant struck the Boydton Plank Road on the left. Troops such as the 50th Engineers temporarily filled the breastworks in the middle of the Union line while the assaults were being made.
Letter 2
Camp near Petersburg November 15, 1864
Dear Abbie,
I will try and write a few lines this morning although it is pretty cold. I don’t know but my fingers will get so cold that I can’t write but I will write what I can. I am well and I sincerely hope these few lines will find you the same.
It is a long time since I have heard from you. Have you forgotten your soldier? No, I do not believe you have. I wrote a letter to you some time agoand have not had any answer from it and I made up my mind that I would not wait any longer but would write the first opportunity. It is so cold I do not know whether there is going to be drill or not. Well, I must stop and warm my fingers.
The boys are building winter quarters. I do not think we shall have much more marching this fall. It is getting too cold. I was on guard last night and it was pretty cold. I did not get a chance to sleep a bit. The night before I was on guard, my tent mate was on guard and I did not sleep much that night because he had to take one of the blankets and it was pretty cold and I did not try to sleep that night and the next night I was on guard and there was two nights that I did not sleep. But last night I made it all up. I slept ten knots an hour. Did I not do well? I slept so sound that I did not hear the drum this morning for roll call but that did not make any difference to me. The Lieutenant sent for me and another fellow that did not get up to roll call. The Lieutenant wanted to know the reason why I was not up. I told him the reason. Well, he said, that was no excuse. I asked him what made him send for us and why he did not send for some other that did not get up to roll call. He told me to go to my tent and here I am writing. The other fellow is at work for punishment. It is the first time that I ever missed roll call.
Well, I guess I will stop writing for I can’t think of anything to write so I will close. Write often. I will try and write something of more importance next time but if you are as I am, you do not care whether the letters are of any importance or not as long as they are from one that is as dear as you are to me. Well, this is all. From your ever true and faithful soldier, — Henry Russell
Letter 3
Camp near Petersburg November 25, 1864
Dear Abbie,
I will try and write a few lines to you to let you know that I am still alive & well and I hope these few lines will find you the same. Well, now, I will try and tell you what has happened since I received your last letter. I received your last letter the 18th after dark. The next morning it rained and we were ordered to pack up so we packed up and marched in the rain about three miles. It was almost cold enough to freeze and we were wet through but at it we went and put up our shelter tents and made a fire in front of it and got pretty well dried before night. I and my tent mate got some rails to sleep on. We got some pine boughs and spread them on the rails and then we spread our overcoats on them and sleep on them. It rained all day. At night I was on guard. It rained very hard all the time that I was on. The next day it cleared off but the wind blew cold. Well, I will not [tell] all that happened, only it has been cold weather and we had suffered a good deal from cold.
I had got this letter dated the 25th but it is the 26th. I started to write this yesterday morning and the Orderly Sergeant came and told me if I wanted to go to a Thanksgiving dinner to put on my overcoat and go and get in the ambulance. Well, we had a ride of about 12 miles and had a good dinner. There was three of us out of our company. We went to the hospital where I was last summer. The doctor sent for three men out of each company—those that had been sick. Well, I will tell you what we had to eat. We had oysters, potatoes, biscuits and butter, roast turkey, chicken, mince pie, pudding, apple sauce, and a number of other things. It was a good dinner. While I was eating it, I wished the rest of the boys could all have as good a dinner but they are just as well off today. It is very pleasant and warm today.
We have got a boat train now and we expect to go on a raid in a few days and this may be the last letter that you will ever have from me. This going on raids is dangerous business, We have got the canvas boats. They are light and we can go fast with them. We have been out drilling this morning.
A canvas boat used by the 50th New York Engineers,
Well, I shall have to stop writing for I do not think you can read what I have wrote. I got a letter from Stella day before yesterday. Well, there is nothing more to write. I will write as often as I can if we go on the raid but I hope we shall not have to go. I hope that it will be the last move we will make this fall. You do not know how the soldiers have to suffer with the cold. Well, this sheet is nearly full so dear Abbie, goodbye. It may be for the last time. This from your ever true and faithful soldier, — Henry Russell
Letter 4
Camp of the 50th New York Engineers in front of Petersburg, Va, in the winter of 1864-65. Notice the canvas pontoon boats parked at left (No. 14).
Camp near Petersburg December 4, 1864
Dear Abbie,
I received your kind and welcome letter last night and was very glad to hear from you. I am well. My health was never better that it is now. I never was any fleshier that I am now and I still keep gaining.
I wrote a letter to you day before yesterday to you so I have not got much news to write but I will tell you what I have been doing since then. Day before yesterday we built a yard for our beef cattle and yesterday I went out in the woods to get cut timber for the Captain’s house and for our own houses. I have got a good house but I have got to tear it down and make them all alike. A good many of the boys have got good houses built but they has got to tear them all down and build them over again.
Well, I have not told you what we have been doing today. It is Sunday today and we had an inspection of arms and I have been to meeting today and five o’clock we have got to go out on dress parade and that will use up the day.
You wanted to know what they done to me for not being out at roll call. Well, they did not do anything with me. Last night one of our sergeants did not get out at roll call. I do not know what they will do with him but I guess not anything.
You say do not enlist. Well, I will not. I have no intention of it. It would take more than 18 or 20 hundred dollars to get me to enlist so you need not worry about that. If I get out of this alright, I think that will do, don’t you? Yes, I know you do.
It is a very pleasant day. It did not rain as I expected it would when I wrote to you. When I get my house built, I shall have more time to write, I guess, if we do not have to drill all the time. Well, if we have to drill, I can write evenings for I am going to have a table and I am going to try and have things halfway decent.
Well, I wonder what time it is. It must be about half past two, I think. I sold my watch just before I began to write this letter. I can’t keep a watch here more than three days. If I get a good watch, someone will come along and ask me what I will take for it. I tell them that I do not want to sell it. Well, what will you take for it? I will tell them when they will haul out the money and hand it to me.
Well, I must close. I have got to write two letters more today. I expect a letter from home every day now. Well, dearest and best [friend], I must close. I wish I could tell you my feelings toward you. If you knew, then you never would regret the step you have taken. I know we will meet again. Well, this is all from your faithful, — Henry
The following letter was written by William H. Kirwin (1839-1917) who enlisted at Troy, New York as private, Co. E , 43rd New York Infantry on 30 December 1863; appointed musician and returned to ranks sometime after February 1865; mustered out with company, June 27, 1865, at Washington, D. C. While he was in the service, he was described as 5′ 8″ inches tall, with gray eyes and brown hair.
William was the son of William and Esther (Rasper) Kirwin. He was educated In the public schools of Troy and his first business in which he was engaged was that of groceryman. At one time he was one of the best known horsemen in this section and for the last seventeen years had been Superintendent of the Lansingburgh Waterworks.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
William’s letter was written on stationery with a “Tribute to the Late Maj. Gen. John Sedgwick” printed on it.
Petersburg December 20, 1864
Friend Nanning,
It is with pleasure that I take my pen in hand to write you these few lines hoping they will find both you and Jane in good health as these few lines leaves me in at present. Nanning, I have wrote to you some time ago and have had no reply yet.
We left the Valley and are nowat the ending place of this cruel war but they ain’t got it yet. They are looking for a big battle every day. The night before last the Johnnies took some ten or twelve of our outpost—that means men. The night was dark. There was over 75 of them so our men didn’t fire. I was over to the 2nd Regiment last Sunday and I went to see them. I could see their camp. They can talk to us but this is the hardest place that they have to take but their breastworks are much better than ours. If they make a charge, then we are all right. But if we make the charge, we will lose the half of our army and then get drove back. We lay right at the front breastworks so when they do make a break, we will take the front.
Thomas is doing well. He took five thousand men and 60 pieces of cannon and Sherman is doing his biss [business]. He has got Atlanta and we have got the last railroad that goes to Richmond. We got that lastweek. We tore up forty miles of it so as to keep it.
The weather is pretty cold but no snow. You are enjoying the snow there by this time. I wished that I was there to take my share of it.
I hold the same as always, blowing on that thing with the siren holes in it [bugle]. The Colonel sent for me so I had to come to the regiment. My uncle was killed a few days before I got there. That does leave me all alone. It is lonesome for me to have Charley and them all gone. The place that Charley was killed is only half a mile from here.
Nanning, write and let me know all that is going on there and after this battle, if I get out of it all right, I will let you know all about it which I hope I will. I will want a new set of teeth when I get home for those hard tacks won’t cave the ones in by that time. Give my compliments to all the folks.
Direct as this: William Kirwin, Company E, 43rd New York Vols., Washington D. C.
Give my love to the old lady and Jenny, saving a little for yourself. So no more at present. From your friend and well wisher, — Wm. Kirwin
Goodby. Write soon. Hoping to see you all before long.
Frederick Augustus Starring, Phil Flickinger Collection
This brief letter was penned by Frederick Augustus Starring (1834-1904), the son of Sylvanus Seaman Starring (1807-1862) and Adeline Morton Williams (1809-1853) of Buffalo, New York. Fred came to Illinois in 1852 to work as an engineer on the Illinois Central Railroad. In 1856 he was living in Little Rock, Arkansas, where he served as the secretary of a railroad. He was still working in 1861 and witnessed first hand how “the secession fervor swept the South.” 1
Using the political connections of friends and relatives, Fred obtained a commission as the Major of the 46th Illinois Infantry in September 1861. In August 1862, he was promoted to Colonel of the 72nd Illinois Infantry. His complete succinct biography can be found on Wikipedia here: Frederick Augustus Starring.
Fred wrote the letter to his younger sister, Sarah Anna Starring who was born in 1846.
[Note: This letter and accompanying images are from the personal collection of Phil Flickinger and offered for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent..]
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Columbus, Kentucky July 14th 1862
My dear Sister Sarah,
I send you two cartes de visite. They are very poorly taken, but you can cut the one for you so it will fit in your locket. I will have some better ones shortly and will send each of my dear sisters one.
I hope you are learning to write fast for I anticipate great pleasure in receiving letters from you. I know you will write good letters when you are older for your description powers are good and perhaps you are more studious that your sisters. You must read your letter to sister Mary so it may answer for a letter to her too. Love to all. Hastily, brother Fred
1 “Bvt. Brig. Gen. F. A. Starring, Opportunist or Ideal Soldier?” by Richard K. Tibbals, Military Images, Jan-Feb 2000.
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