The following letter was written by Andrew Louis McFarlane (1822-1898) who initially enlisted in late March 1862 as a private in Co. D, 109th Pennsylvania Infantry and then transferred to Capt. James D. M’Gill’s Light Artillery in Knap’s Independent Battery E. Although Andrew’s letter expresses hope that he will receive a positive response to his application for a commission as officer in the US Colored Troops (USCT), I could find no record that he was even examined, let alone commissioned. It looks as though he did not join the battery until 1 March 1864 and he did not muster out until 14 June 1865.
Andrew was the son of Francis McFarlane (1762-1846) and Mary McWilliam (1777-1859). His first wife, Mary E. Larimer (1826-1863) died in 1863. His second wife—19 years his junior—Jennie A. Davis (1841-1914) lived until 1914. Jennie’s obituary claimed she was the widow of “Col. McFarlane.”
Andrew was born in New Castle, Lawrence county, Pennsylvania. At the time of his enlistment and after the war, he lived in Westmoreland county, Pennsylvania, where he was a farmer near Tinker Run.
Back in 2019 I transcribed two letters that were not signed that I knew to have been written by a member of Knap’s Battery. With this letter, based upon the handwriting, I’m able to conclude that these other two letters were also written by Andrew L. McFarlane. See—1864-65: Andrew Louis McFarlane to His Family.
[Note: This letter is from the personal collection of Evan Hammon and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.]
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Bridgeport [Alabama] April 18, 1864
Well I wrote a letter yesterday and I got one this morning. I got provision and hardware that you sent me. The pens were very good ones. Well maybe I will be home before harvest on a furlough at least. I will if I get what I have applied for. I have made application for a commission in a Colored Regiment. I have the application written out and am waiting on the 109th [Pensylvania] Regiment coming back. I want to get Capt. [Alfred] McGittigen’s recommendations for what time I was in the 109th. I have got [a] very good recommendastion from Captain M’gill for what time I have been in the battery, and after I get McGilligen’s, I will get General Geary’s and then I will send it to Nashville and if there is room, they will send me a notice and I will have to appear there before a Board of Examiners. And if I pass, I will get my commission and be discharged from the battery adn get all my bounty and pay.
Thomas Morgan is going to get a commission in a Colored Regiment. His application is sent to Nashville. There are two or three more trying for commissions. I am going to give it a middling hard twist [and] if I don’t get through, it will not be because I do not try. All that get through are entitled to 30 days furlough.
I suppose our trip down the Tennessee will be in the papers soon. I have had one of the infernalest sore necks ever you seen. There was a boil on one side of it as big as a teacup. I had a poltice on it two weeks and had it lanced three times by the doctor. It is getting better. I was sunburnt too. All the skin came off my ears. You would thought to seen my ears that I had been dogged some place.
Well, I will close this letter. This is Sunday evening. I will be on guard tonight. Write soon. Write soon. — A. L. McFarlane
Home
I will send a note that we captured when we took the post office at the town down the Tennessee River. It is not worth anything but you can say you have something that belonged to the rebels.
A post-war watercolor of Caleb Abijah Ensign drawn from poor quality image on Find-A-Grave.
The following letter was written by Caleb Abijah Ensign (1838-1931), the son of Horace Lyman Ensign (1814-1896) and Lucinda Cecelia Parks (1815-1882) of Defiance county, Ohio. Caleb wrote the letter while serving as adjutant and 1st Lieutenant of Co. M, 1st Michigan Engineers & Mechanics. He wrote the letter to William Oren Ensign (1841-1918) and Hebert Dwight Ensign (1844-1898)—his uncles though both of them were younger in age than he was. Both William and Herbert served in the 14th Independent battery, Ohio Light Artillery.
Note: This letter is from the private collection of Evan Hammon who made it available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Headquarters Defenses, Stevenson, Alabama August 11, 1864
Dear Uncles,
After leaving you I felt much like cussing to think “Pill box” should have known so much—or that he couldn’t have known more. In fact, I was so irritated that I shouldn’t have known you were so long in leisure in time to have improved it while I was with you that I soon ascertained what i might of you.
I have no great deal of news to write you. A letter from home mentions Uncle Ed and family well and as far as known all the rest of the friends.
I sought out Elmer Rand this morning who tells me he had a letter from his father a few days since stating that Uncle Caleb had come to a melancholy end by putting his head into the machinery of an engine which crushed his head instantly. This is very sad information indeed! I can hardly comprehend how one formerly ever jovial, light-hearted, and clear-headed should have become so unbalanced.
I think I shall leave this place before you come back in September. If this gets to you, I will try to let you know where I shall be about the time you go home.
We have had some very warm weather here and some genuine thunderstorms of late. The rains are impeding our work much by softening the ground over which we haul our heavy timber.
But as Gen. Grant was waiting for rains before he could move his army, I suppose what we cn’t do here in the West, he may make up in doing before Richmond.
I presume you are at the action front. I do not know whether your Brother has been in action during the late fighting for I am so busy I do not search the papers. Letters from Lysander indicate him to be still at Knoxville and well.
I am at present engaged beyond my duties as Adj. in making drawings of the defenses here [see map below] and I find myself considerably fatigued tonight. Hoping soon to hear from you and of your well being, I am very affectionately yours, — Caleb
[to] Wm. O. & Herbert Ensign, 12th O. V. Light Artillery
Address C. A. Ensign, Lieut., 1st Michigan Engineers, via Chattanooga, Tennessee
A post war AI-generated watercolor of Martin Van Buren Waite based on a very poor resolution image on Ancestry.com
The following letter was written by Martin Van Buren Waite (1841-1923), the son of Martin Waite (1809-1897) and Lavina Louise Adams (1816-1850) of Ellington, Outagamie, Wisconsin. He wrote the letter to his sister, Esther Waite (b. 1843) while serving in Co. D, 1st Wisconsin Infantry. Muster rolls reveal that he mustered into the company on 5 September 1861 and remained with the company until 19 September 1863 when he was taken prisoner at the Battle of Chickamauga. He mustered out of the regiment at Milwaukee on 14 October 1864.
In his letter, written less than a month before the Battle of Chickamauga where he was taken prisoner. Martin wrote his sister of his hunch that “There is a big battle to come off before long.”
This letter is from the private collection of Evan Hammon and was made available for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp near Stevenson, [Alabama] [Sunday] August 23, 1863
Dear Sister,
Your most welcome letter is at hand and received with the greatest pleasure and finds your brother in first rate health and enjoying himself as well as the times will admit. Esther, I can imagine the sorrowful feeling that a mother must have to depart with a little innocent darling like yours but perhaps it is all for the best. Esther, seeing that it is your request for me to name your little girl, I will have you call her Bertha if it is your will and her Maker’s.
Esther, it is Sunday here today, Gabe [Gabriel Cornish] and me has just been down town. Gabe got a pound of butter for a half dollar and I got a quart of onion for a half a dollar and a peck of potatoes for a dollar. We have had plenty of green corn and ripe peaches till we came in this place and here they are rather scarce.
Esther, I have just received a letter from Allen Potter 1 and he said the folks are all well except Aunt Bathsheba [Waite Potter] and she has not been very well this summer. Allen says he is the father of a little girl.
Esther, it is quite warm weather here at present. General Rosecrans’ Headquarters are just across the railroad. He keeps right up to the front. Men from Bridgeport say that they are putting the pontoon bridges across the Tennessee [River] today and I heard [ ] bull dogs throwing shells into Chattanooga last night across the river last night. There is a big battle to come off before long.
Esther, I cannot think of anything more to write at present so goodbye for this time. — Martin V. B. Waite
1 Allen Potter (1839-1913) was Martin’s cousin, the son of William Potter (1809-1875) ad Bathsheba Waite (1811-1876) of Leon, Cattaraugus county, New York.
The following letter was written by Julius Theodore Barrett (1823-1862) of Bloomer, Michigan, who kissed his wife of 12 years, Mary Jane (Patrick) Barrett (1826-1897), and his three children, Ella (age 11), Charlie (age 9), and Flora (age 3) to enlist in Co. K, 21st Michigan Infantry on 12 August 1862. He served just over four and a half months before he was killed “by gunshot wound” at the Battle of Stones River on 31 December 1862.
In this heart-wrenching letter from the banks of the Ohio River near Louisville, Julius communicates to his children, for their “amusement and instruction,” a glimpse into the harrowing sights and scenes he has observed since departing from home. He recounts the war’s “blighting and desolating” impacts on the citizens he met in Kentucky, alongside descriptions of various scenes in Louisville. Our awareness of his impending death renders the act of reading this letter all the more difficult.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Camp Sherman Louisville, Kentucky September 9th 1862
My dear children,
As it is an idle day with me, I thought I would pass away the time by writing a few lines to you. In writing to your mother, I have always found the end of the sheet before I had time to say anything to you. Although we are hundreds of miles apart, yet we can write our thoughts on paper and Uncle Sam will carry it as you direct.
I would like to describe for your amusement and instruction some of the sights and scenes that I have been a witness to since I left home. I am thankful, my dear children, that you are so far away from the theatre of war. Here we see its blighting and desolating effects all around us. Women and little children are met with every day who say they have lost husband or father in the war and they are left destitute and plead earnestly for charity. Many of these are no doubt beggars by profession while others are entitled to our warmest sympathies.
When we were at Covington, a little boy not more than 8 or 9 years old and about Charlie’s size was found one morning in our camp lying on the ground fast asleep. On awakening him, he told on being questioned the following story. He belonged to a Missouri regiment then in camp near us. His father belonged to an Illinois regiment and was killed in Missouri. He and his mother went after him. Their money became exhausted, his father died before they reached him, and his mother wore down by disappointment and the fatigue of the journey, fell sick and died leaving him far from his home and friends. The regiment fed him and took him along with them. We asked him if he was not afraid to sleep out doors so. He said no—he slept so every night most. And though he was so young, he was an awful wicked boy. He left us during the day and I have never seen him since.
Since we have been here, there has been a man in camp with his three children, the oldest about as old as Ella. The youngest about like Carlie Fuller. She played on the triangle, her two sisters on the violin, the father the base viol and the children all played and sung at the same time some of the prettiest songs I ever heard.
Our camp is on the bank of the Ohio River in which I bathe often. The appearance of the country here is quite different from what it is in Michigan. We are close to the city and there is a great many fine houses and gardens and pleasure grounds decorated with flowering shrubs and shade trees of every description.The houses are mostly made of brick and the city is a large one. Main Street is longer than from our house to grandpa’s with large brick houses on both sides from two to four and six stories high and so close together that you can hardly get between except where the streets cross. There is one hospital here that accommodates two thousand patients, besides physicians and nurses, probably five times as many—yes, eight times as many people as there is in the whole town of Bloomer.
Dear children, are you well? Are you kind and good to your mother? Do you help her all you can? Do you study your books and try to learn your lessons? Well I hope you can answer yes to all these questions. When your mother writes to me, Ella must write too, and answer all these questions and write all about little Flora and Charlie must tell you what to write for him. I hope you will learn to write good and long letters for I fear it will be a long while before I get home.
Arthur St. Clair Smith later in war when serving as Captain of Co. K, 12th New Hampshire Infantry
The following letter was writen by Arthur St. Clair Smith (1841-1895) of Co. G, 12th New Hampshire Infantry. Arthur was the oldest son of Joshua R. and Clarissa C (Crockett) Smith. “Arthur St. Clair left the academy at New London in 1861, and went home to enlist, but his widowed mother, his father having been accidentally killed in California three years before, persuaded him to return to his school, where he impatiently remained until the new call for troops in 1862, when “I could no longer study.” as he says, “and went home again to enlist.” Assisted by Adjutant-General Colby, he enlisted forty or fifty men for Company G, but waiving his claim to rank was elected first sergeant, instead of lieutenant, as he might have been. His brother, Henry J., of the same company, was killed at Gettysburg.”
“In all the battles of the regiment to Cold Harbor, but Gettysburg and Wapping Heights, when he was still suffering from a severe wound received in arm at Chancellorsville, where his equipments were perforated with bullets. At Cold Harbor he was struck five times, being wounded twice, and having musket or grape shot through hat, haversack, and coat. He says: “I shall never forget my ambulance ride with Captain Shackford from Cold Harbor to White House landing.” Rejoined the regiment after the Siege of Petersburg, was present at the battle of Bermuda Hundred, and led a provisional battalion, that he commanded for a while, into Richmond. Of Captain Smith’s services at Danville, Va., see pages 302 and 310, chapter XV.”
“After the war he received the degree of L. L. B., from the Albany Law School, N Y., and settled in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He has been judge of the municipal court, and was elected to the legislature by several thousand plurality though a candidate of the minority. He died December 19, 1895.” [Source: Find-A-Grave]
Arthur wrote his letter to his cousin, Frank J. Robinson (1843-Aft1892), the son of Joseph Wells Robinson (1816-1864) and Matilda G. Crockett (1811-1863) of Lake Village (now Lakeport), Laconia, Belknap county, New Hampshire.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
12the New Hampshire Regiment Camp near Falmouth January 27, 1863
Cousin Frank,
Your letter came to hand in due time after date and I thought that I would write you immediately so that you would not have a good reason to complain as before. When I got your letter we were under marching orders and I thought that I would wait until after we had arrived at some point or accomplished something before I wrote you. Well, we have arrived at some point—viz: the same place we started from, but have not accomplished much that I can see.
We broke camp Wednesday noon, leaving the sick on the old ground. We went forth as we supposed to battle, the company [Co. G] numbering all told 49 men—the rest having been left sick at different points on our route. Capt. [Charles W.] Chase did not go with us as he fell when we left Fredericksburg and burst himself so badly that he has not done duty since and I very much doubt if he ever will be able to take part in an active campaign.
We had two lieutenants with us—viz: Lieut. [Edwin E.] Beede, our former sergeant-major. He was promoted over Lieut. [John S.] Veasey and such a row as it made. Veasey resigned at once and it made a row all around the camp. When Veasey handed in his resignation to headquarters, the Colonel was in Washington, and the Lieut.-Colonel was commanding the regiment (and it was his business having Veasey jumped). Lieut.-Col. [John F.] Marsh ordered him under arrest and took his sword away. That made another row among the officers.
Well when Col. [Joseph H.] Potter came back and found what had been done, he sent for Veasey and said it was a mistake on the part of Gov. Berry brought about partly by his own negligence that it was done and said that the course of the Lieut.-Col. was not approved of by him. He also apologized to Veasey for the occurrence and told him that in the end that he would be better off then as though he had been promoted this time. He is acknowleged to be the best 2nd Lieut. in the regiment. The men all like him.
Wel the Colonel gave the Lieut.-Col. such a reprimand that he took his bed and has not appeared in public and I hear that he has got a furlough and all the line officers and men hope it is perpetual. He is fairly hated by them all for his treatment of them. I heard that Col. Potter called him a God damned fool and gave him a blowing up that was big. As for Lieut. Beede, he is smarter than Veasey and will make the company what it ought to be—the best in the regiment.
Well Col. Potter being acting as Brigadier General, he put our regiment on the right of his brigade and told the Major that he would not put him where he would not go himself so we went out under Major [George D.] Savage. It made officers and men feel very badly (for I don’t believe that there is another regiment that thinks more of its Colonel that our soes of Col. Potter) because Col. Potter was taken way from us. He does not draw the full amount of pay that he is entitled to from the government, but gives it to it which cannot be said of many of its officers I guess.
Well, having arrived at this point, I will tell you in a few words what we did. We started as I told you about noon and went out about half a mile in heavy marching order and waited till about eight o’clock in the evening when we were ordered back to our old ground to be in readiness to move at a moment’s warning. It had commenced to rain and we came in and found the convalescents of the whole Division occupying our ground. We drove most of them out and repitched some of the tents and laid by. We were not ordered to move till about noon the next day. It had been raining all of the time, some of the time very hard since sunset the preceding day and the whole army being in motion, the soil was as spongy as any you ever dreamed of. We went about three miles and were ordered to stack arms and pitch tents. It had been raining all the time a little. Well we pitched our tents andgot some pine boughs, built our fires, and got supper, then laid down to sleep.
Now about the roads. I thought I had seen mud in New London and other places but I never did. It was impossible to travel in the roads, the artillery and wagons having cut them up so that they would sink to the hubs all the time so we took to the fields and such fields! They were perfect lakes of mud. You put your foot in and down it would go—down, down, half way up to your knee. Take it up and often almost losing your boot. You could not see where it came out, it was perfect liquid mud. We kept in the woods or rather where there had been woods as much as we could for there the traveling was better, but you could not keep out of the mud the best way you could fix it.
We staid where we camped two nights and the rain not ceasing, it was found to be impossible to go further and so we found that we were really stuck in the mud. About ten o’clock the 2nd day of our pilgrimage, we were ordered out to build corduroy roads through the woods so the artillery and baggage train could get through to their old camping ground for having found that it was impossible to move the pontoon train, artillery andbaggage train further in the mud, our generals came to the conclusion that they better go back (for the whole army was in motion) and about 3 o’clock we packed up and started back to our old ground where we arrived tired but we put up our tent, or rather covered our log hut and nowm though it rains, we are about as comfortable as though we were at home for here Henry and I are in a log hit built up 4.5 feet with logs with a stone foreplace in the side and covered over with our tents with bunks onone side made of oak poles covered with cedar boughs (and I sometimes think who wouldn’t be a soldier!).
So you see we are quite comfirtable here but don’t any of you folks up North say anything about our advance movement but when you want the army to move, take a trip out here and walk half a mile in the mud. You will go home perfectly satisfied, I assure you.
We are as well as usual. Dexter has got his discharge and you can find out particulars by him. You spoke of John Dockham. He has the reputation of being the greatest eater in the company. The other day when we were talking about moving on the Rebs, the surgeon come to the company to examine the sick to see who he would excuse from going. John was down to the cookery eating a plate of beans. He dropped his beans andstarted for the surgeon. He was examined but not excused. He went back and got more beans and went to eating again. He kept growing sicker and sicker till we went and he did not go with us.
There is not much news to write so I will draw this to a close. Our regiment was paid up to the first of November. At Concord we got only a part of a month’s pay. Tell your father that I sent the full amount of a month’s allotment. Henry sent half of his—viz: $4. I suppose I will get around sometime. Write soon and give me the news. Yours, — Arthur
This letter is only signed “Arthur” but I’m confident he served in Co. D, 12th New Hampshire Infantry and there are only two soldiers with that name—Arthur L. Hannaford (1844-1935) and Arthur Kimball (1839-1910), both residents of Belknap county, New Hampshire. I feel confident it’s one of these two but am leaning toward Arthur Hannaford simply because he was closer in age to Amos Chattle, mentioned in the letter, and to the letter’s recipient. Arthur was the son of Alfred Hannaford (1806-1875) and Lurana Sawyer Smith (1809-1876) of Sanbornton. After the war he was employed as a carpenter.
The following letter was written by John N. Dockham who was 23 years old when he enlisted in Co. G, 12th New Hampshire Infantry in August 1862 ; b. Gilford; age 23; res. Charlestown, Mass., credited to Gifford; mustered out June 21, ’65. Post Office address., Gilford.
He wrote his letter to his friend Frank J. Robinson (1843-Aft1892), the son of Joseph Wells Robinson (1816-1864) and Matilda G. Crockett (1811-1863) of Lake Village (now Lakeport), Laconia, Belknap county, New Hampshire.
Dockham’s parents were Morse Brown Dockham (1812-1918) and Matilda R. Saltmarsh (1818-1856).
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Directed to Frank J. Robinson, Lake Village, New Hampshire
12th New Hampshire Regiment Camp near Falmouth, Va. March 3rd 1863
Dear old friend Frank,
I hope you will forgive me for not writing before. I was heedless or I should have done it. Charles Leavitt had a letter from you night before last and he told me you said you wanted me to write you. You had written me two letters but I have received only one from you. I don’t want you to be so heedless as I have been but write as often as you can and I will write oftener.
My health is not as good as it was last summer when I worked at Mr. Morgan’s. I am lame in both ankles and my stomach is out of order. What I eat does me no good and I have some cough. I should like to call on you some morning this winter, Frank, and talk over old times and eat an apple with you. I think it would go good and I think a little popped corn would not go bad. And Frank, I could tell you a long story of what I have seen. It would take me some time, I tell you.
There is not much of importance to write at the present time. Everything seems to be still and quiet hereabouts. They are building forts here in the direction of the creek and they are calculated to be pretty large and formidable. There is a report here this morning that Vcksburg has been taken. I hope it is so but fear it may not be. There is another that Napoleon has ordered the rebels to lay down their arms in 30 days but this is a camp story not much to be relied on.
We are having rather a wet time here for it rains most all of the time which makes it very muddy and bad getting along. You have no idea of what Virginia mud is. I would like to have you for the fun of it get stuck in where it is a foot deep. You would then see for yourself what it is.
Frank, I have no stamps so I hope you will excuse me for sending this without any. It is impossible to get any here. You have to pay every thing for what you buy here. Apples are 5 cents apiece. Cheese 40 cents a pound. Butter 60 cents a pound. Tobacco $1.50 cents a pound. Writing paper 2 cents a sheet and other things in proportion. So you see, if we bought all we wanted, we should have to have a good deal of money.
Amos Chattle 1 put his arm out of joint the other day while wrestling with another boy and he is likely to have a hard time of it before it gets better. I suppose [you] have got any quantity of snow there now. We have had some here—as much as a foot at a time. But it don’t stay long now.
I must close. Write soon as you get this. From your friend — John N. Dockham
1 Amos Chattle (1844-1919) was the son of Thomas and Nancy (Bowman) Chattle of Laconia, Belknap county, New Hampshire. He served in Co. D, 12th New Hampshire Infantry. The history of the regiment states that “he received a fracture of the right elbow by being accidentally thrown down during the winter before Chancellorsville, from the effects of which he was afterwards discharged. Before this he promised to make one of the best of soldiers, but thus early had to succumb to the inevitable. His father and brother Horace were in the 8th New Hampshire.” The former died of sickness at Camp Stevens, La., and the latter was killed at Port Hudson. Another brother, Noah, served in the 15th New Hampshire and was also killed at Port Hudson.
This lengthy and informative letter was penned by Robert Samuel Munford (1809-1897), the son of Richard Jones Munford (1776-1843) and Elizabeth Embry (1781-1881). A historical marker near the village of Munfordville describes Robert as a pioneer and the father of the village. He attended Centre College and became a surveyor. The marker states further that Mr. Munford held all country offices, and every seeker of roads and lands applied to him for information. He regards all the villagers as his children, and all strangers who enter Munfordville as his own visitors.” The historical sign gives one such visitor as John Muir, the celebrated American naturalist who walked from Indianapolis to the Gulf in 1867 and described visiting with Robert Munford in his book, “A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf.“
Robert’s letter describes the death and burial of William Curtis Johnston (1839-1862), the chaplain of the 13th Kentucky Infantry. William was born in Trebizond, Turkey, to missionary parents. He graduated from Yale in November 1860, and entered the Theological Seminary in Danville, Kentucky. After he was ordained as a minister of the Presbyterian Church, he became a Civil War chaplain for the Union, and saw some war action. He died of typhoid pneumonia in Munfordville, Kentucky, on December 3, 1862, and was buried on a local farm belonging to one of his church members. Nineteen years later he was reinterred in Evergreen Cemetery, in New Haven, Connecticut, to be with his family. William never married but was engaged at the time he died. His mother wrote a book about William, which is still available, entitled The Young Chaplain, but she never mentions his engagement.
Robert’s letter is addressed to Cornelia S. Hall who was engaged to be married to William C. Johnston. Aside from the details of William’s death and burial, Robert provides her with information pertaining to a $1000 Life Insurance Policy that William had purchased, naming Cornelia as the beneficiary.
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
Munfordville, Hart county, Kentucky February 20th 1863
Miss Cornelia S. Hall,
You will doubtless be somewhat surprised by receiving this communication from one so great a distance with whom you have no personal acquaintance, and perhaps never until the present knew had an existence. A sense of duty impels me to write to you. I hope the contents of my letter will be a sufficient apology. Indeed, I flatter myself your gratitude will be more than a liberal reward for all my trouble in writing.
I have received three very satisfactory and interesting letters from Mrs. M[arianne] C. [Howe] Johnston (now at Granville, Licking county, Ohio) who is the mother of the late Rev. Wm. C. Johnston, dec’d. In her last of the 6th inst., she informed me that you and her son had been engaged to be married for several years and that said engagement would have been consumated early last September had not circumstances transpired that prevented it. I had also learned the same a few days after his death from Capt. [Wallace] Victor of the same regiment who was a convalescent and staid with him until he died.
Some two weeks since, I also received a letter from your friend Wilmot Williams of New York City enclosing one to Mr. Mat Manning of Campbellsville, Kentucky, making enquiry about Wm. C. Johnston’s trunk [and] that he was informed by you was left in his care. As I could not answer the letter, I forwarded it to Mr. Manning by Mr. Barbie, the present chaplain of the regiment, and wrote him in person also, and requested him to write to you. Mr. Johnston & Mr. Williams, whose addresses I gave. I have just received his reply. He informs me he had complied & very kindly proposes to afford any assistance in his power.
Your friend, Mr. Williams, several weeks since, wrote to Rev. J[ames] C. Rush of this place [chaplain of Col. Grider’s regiment] asking for assistance in your behalf, informing him that deceased had a policy from the Mutual Life Insurance Co. of New York City (for your benefit) for $1000 less the premium which he paid. He also sent him the necessary blank affidavits & statements to be properly prepared & forwarded to his address so as to enable you to draw the money. Mr. Rush has been absent and some ten days since I learned from Capt. Victor the above facts and went to his home and got the papers and have been attending to it in person, and several days since had them almost completed, but the absence of several of those whose statements were required to be sworn to made it necessary to do it over again, but substituting others. Mr. Rush has just returned and I will be able to get his statement, &c.
It may be necessary (for you) to have the No. of the policy & the amount certified to. Not having the policy. I cannot have that done, but however I suppose that will be immaterial, but it will be necessary for you to present the policy before you can draw the money. You may get a copy from the books of the company on which it may be drawn. I presume, however, that you have the policy in your possession. If so, there may be no difficulty.
I requested Mr. Manning in my letter to open the trunk and make an examination for the policy, and if found, to send me the No. & the amount and the policy to you. He informed me that after the Southern army had left Kentucky, he had locked the trunk and sent the key to deceased at Danville, Kentucky, and therefore could not examine the trunk as it was locked. I hope, however, you have the policy.
February 21st, 1863
Miss Cornelia,
Col. Edward Henry Hobson, 13th Kentucky Infantry
Since writing my first sheet, I felt quite fatigued and wearied as it is very difficult for me to write, having been the first individual shot by the rebels after their invasion of Kentucky. I was shot in the door of the house in which I now write on the 10th of October 1861 with 4 balls in the right arm & shoulder, only a distance of 31 paces in daylight. I cannot shut my hand and have to write without touching or resting my hand on the paper, with a pen fastened to my fore finger. I therefore, after writing, went out to the encampment of Col. [Edward Henry] Hobson’s 13th [Kentucky Volunteer] Regiment. He was absent at Louisville as well as Adj. W. W. Woodruff in whose possession was the valise and clothing of deceased. The Col. is a relation of mine and his son, Major Hebron and Col. [James H.] Ward [27th Kentucky], then in command of the post, gave me permission to examine deceased valise and clothing for the policy & key of trunk. I did not find the policy but found a key which I think is the one for the trunk. I have an opportunity and will send it to Mr. Manning in a few days—when he will examine for the policy, which if you have not got, you should request him to send to you if he finds it.
I found in the valise among his letters, one from W. Williams to Wm. C. Johnson dated October 30, 1862 in which was enclosed a minute, made by W. Williams of $40 loaned to deceased. Also the receipt from the Secretary (I. Abbott) for the premium $29.49 to C. Johnston (I suppose about $10 of it was for the war permit). The No. of policy is 25893 and is from November 5th 1862 to November 25, 1863, thus embracing one year & 20 days.
As it will be necessary to show that the premium has been paid on the policy before the money can be drawn, I will therefore enclose the receipt to you (which is a responsibility I assume) with the request that if you cannot draw the money and anyone should be entitled to the benefits of the policy, you will return the receipt back to me.
Mrs. Johnson in none of her letters has ever, to me, said anything about the policy, and it may be she does not know anything about her sons having it. I will write to her again in a few days. Also to Mr. Williams & send him the necessary proof of death, &c. I should have attended to this business sooner and written to you before now, but have been suffering from my injuries and had some sick negroes to attend to & had a fine mare stolen which was gone 10 days before I got her, &c.
February 23rd 1863
Now Miss Cornelia,
I hope you will permit me to say notwithstanding I am to you a stranger, that from what Mrs. Johnston wrote me (in her last) of your delicate health, and of the death of all your family except yourself leaving you alone without anyone to assist you, that I feel for you a great deal of sympathy. I think I know something of the tender sensibilities that surround & find their way into a lady’s heart—particularly when standing in such a relation as you did, to our young, good, pious, lovely and worthy beloved William Curtis Johnston, deceased. I can therefore anticipate that you would very naturally desire to know something about where his remains were deposited and whether they will remain there undisturbed or removed by the family to New Haven.
Mrs. Johnston informs me that they at first intended to remove his remains to New Haven, but I gave her such a relation of the care that she now writes me that they have concluded to let them remain where they are deposited. The morning he died, I was out north of the town at the common burying ground which was by the desolations of the different armies, open or not enclosed, and now is in the vast commons. Lieut. Col. [John Brawner] Carlile of the 13th Regiment came out a few minutes after his death & informed me of the fact, & requested me to suggest some suitable place for his interment. I informed him that there was not a burial place about the village but Col. G. Y. Woods (who was absent) and one belonging to the members of my father’s family, that were enclosed by any kind of a fence. Notwithstanding I was the only representative of my father’s family living in this county, I told him I would take the responsibility on myself to select and designate the most suitable place in our family burying grouund for his interment.
He immediately detailed an officer and men to accompany me to dig the grave. Here let me assure you that what I have done will meet the entire approbation of every member of my family though they are widely scattered. It is a small enclosure with a rough stone wall, containing about 20 bodies (relations and friends). That you may form a more correct idea of the locality and some of its surroundings, I have drawn off an approximate map (which I herewith enclose). It is represented by the figure 6. 1.2.3.4.5. represents the different fortifications situated on more elevated ground. It is on the top or brow of the hill or rather bluff making up from a short creek or what I might term a rivulet, formed by a large boiling spring at the base of the bluff, and running into Green River which is in view and about one-third of a mile distant, & is about 160 feet above the river in elevation, and just where the ascent terminates, and near to Col. Hebron’s encampment.
Fortification No. 4 includes the graves of the 15 slain of Col. Willich’s German [32nd Indiana] regiment in the battle with the Texas Rangers fought December ’61 a little south of the bridge.
Burial place of the slain memebers of Col. Wilich’s 32nd Indiana Infantry. Adolph Metxner, artist.
This was once a beautiful, romantic village and a happy one never containing more than 350 inhabitants and for its size, very notorious being on a great thoroughfare near the center of the state and has produced by birth our former and present residence, two Major Generals, five Colonels, two Lieutenanys, five Captains, & two judges of the Court of Appeals—one the Chief Justice. But I am disgressing. The desolation of the armies have swept over it and the surrounding country as a mighty torrent & destruction as a mighty whirlwind.
Mrs. Johnston is very desirous that a stone with a suitable inscription be placed at his grave and has asked me to superintend it. I will attend to it as soon as I can make a suitable arrangement. She says the family only desires a plain one & by my suggestion has sent an inscription for it, and desires me to use some of the money die for his services as chaplain for that purpose. I think the officers & privates of the regiment will bear all the cost of a plain one but I think that it should be of Italian marble for the reason that marble is the only suitable stone to use for monuments. It need not be so costly or gaudy. The inscription will be [ ] in cost.
Miss Cornelia, I cannot write any more with a pen. You will therefore excuse the use of a pencil. It has just occured to me that you may never have heard the particulars of the death of Rev. W. C. Johnston. The engine of the train bringing the regiment from Nashville failed on the way and about 60 miles from here near Franklin, Kentucky, it gave out, and was sent back to a switch which was on Thursday on which day he commenced complaining. The woods was all burned along the road and the men had to prepare fuel for the engineer by sutting the wood. They did not, therefore, get here until Saturday night or Sunday morning. He walked to town from the depot, a distance of 3/4 of a mile and came to my boarding house (Mr. Gibson’s) on Sunday morning in company with Capt. Thompson of same regiment. There was no suitable room for him in the house, it being a rather small one, and he ate some breakfast we provided for him, but he appeared to be full or fatigued. I took him to my room and he laid down while Capt. Thompson went out to get for him a suitable place. He got a good room for him at one of the hotels in which Capt. Victor remained with him & a nurse from the regiment. I went to see him every day until the day he died—Wednesday, I think.
On Monday morning I was not satisfied with his care and went to Woodsonville for Dr. [William Harrison] Gardner to come over and see him which met the wishes also of Dr. [Edward S.] Cooper, his attending physician. He was not considered dangerously ill by them. The evening before he died, I told Dr. Cooper I though he had a good deal of local inflammation about his lungs. He said he thought he had some but not much for he did not cough. I said but little to the deceased as he appeared indisposed to talk. He got up from a lounge & walked to the bed. On the next morning he walked to the fire and took a seat in a chair and asked Capt. Victor to hand him a letter he had received a day or two previous from yourself and carefully read it over again, made a pause, and then remarked to the captain, it was from a lady he feared he loved too devotedly. He said he loved his Creator most of all and the Lady who wrote him the letter next.
The captain told me when he first brought the letter to him from the office, he remarked, “Well, well, it has come at last.” and eagerly pressed it to his lips. While he and the captain were sitting by the fire, the captain remarked to him he did not think he would ever get well and would die from that attack. He replied [that] he believed so himself and said if such was to be his fate, he was prepared for the event and was not afraid to die. A short time after review, Mr. Rush came into the room and found him on bed in a dying state and told him of his condition. He received it very calmly and without any evidence of fear or trepidation. He asked him if he had any requests to make, He said he wished his condition communicated to his sister, mother, and yourself (by telegraph). Adj. Woodruff informed him he would go to the office at the Depot and attend to it. He replied by turning to him, “Miss Hall first” and while saying, “God bless you, Adjutant,” in a smothered tone expired. 1
He evidently contracted disease on the way to this place from exposure as the weather was quite inclement. Someone informed me that he slept out one rainy night under a wagon with only a blanket. I see that his obituary in a New York & New Haven paper says he died of typhoid pneumonia. That may have been the original disease but the immediate cause of his sudden death was with me, without doubt, congestion of the lungs. I have been subject of that disease myself and recently had quite a spell of it. He had the all the symptoms before his death. There is but one remedy for it—that is, a strong stimulant & hot spices in it or pepper. I suggested it to Dr. Cooper. He proposed a stimulant to him but he objected. He was concious a short time before he expired [at which time] he remarked that Paul had said to Timothy he would take a litle wine for his stomach’s sake & other infirmities, & that he would therefore, it it was thought best, take some wine which was given him.
He was much beloved by the officers and men of the regiment. I never saw a stranger whose death affected me more. I did not know he was a Presbyterian ot that he had any relations in Kentucky until I asked him the evening before his death. I wrote immediately to Rev. R. N. Johnston, his uncle of Point Lick, Garrett county, Kentucky. I have received his reply. I think he will come and see to his effects, &c. I will write him to do so.
Miss Cornelia, I will offer my services to you and will do anything in my power you may request. What shall I plant for you at his grave? It has just occured to me that as these are war times, I may have done wrong by drawing you a map of this place & you will be careful to whom you show it, & keep or destroy it. Yours respectfully, — Robert S. Munford
Miss Cornelia, I hope you will write to me as soon as convenient. My address is, Robert T. Munford, Munfordville, Hart county, Kentucky
N. B. I believe I wrote Mr. Johnston, deceased, sat up in bed & read your letter a short time before his death. I have since learned it was on a chair before the fire, &c. — R. S. Munford
1 A letter from Adjutant W. W. Woodruff of the 13th Kentucky Regiment to Mrs. Johnston, datelined from Munfordville on 4 December 1862 stated: Mrs. Johnston: “It is my painful duty to inform you of the death of your excellent son—the Chaplain of our regiment. We left Nashville on the 25th Nov. On Thursday, the 27th, he complained of having a cold, and feeling unwell. We were on our return from Tennessee to this place; but, owing to various trivial accidents to the locomotive, we were detained on the road until Sunday, Nov. 30. Upon arriving at this place, Col. Hobson, Col. Carlile, and Capt. Thompson had him removed to a hotel. He seemed to get a little worse, but no anxiety was felt for him. During the night of the 2d (Tuesday), he became alarmingly ill, and Wednesday morning, the surgeon pronounced that he would not live through the day.
I visited him about half-past 9 o’clock A. M. He seemed to breathe hard, and suffered some. Rev. James C. Rush, who was in attendance, determined to inform him of his real condition. He called him, and Mr. Johnston turned on his back, and Mr. Rush told him his time was short in this world, and if he had any directions to give, he would receive them. He then gave your name and that of two sisters, wishing to be remembered to you It was with great difficulty he spoke. After a moment’s pause, he quoted a passage of Scripture, which I could not understand. I then suggested to him, if he would have me telegraph to you. He replied in the affirmative. I then took leave of him, and he gave me his blessing, which were the last intelligible words he uttered. I proceeded to the office and telegraphed. He was very low. While waiting there, I received intelligence that he was dead, which I immediately telegraphed to you. He died about lo o’clock A. M., Dec. 3d, of typhoid pneumonia and was buried this morning at the same hour, in the private burying-ground of Mr. Robert Munford, a Presbyterian gentleman of this place. The regiment accompanied the corpse to the grave.” [Source, Recollections of My Father, 1876. pp. 114-115]
Side by side hand drawn map by Robert S. Munford (left) with 1863 Military Map of same area.
This brief letter was written by George Storrs Ladd (1847-1912), the son of Alexis Ladd (1804-1888) and Henrietta Rice (1809-1854) of Providence, Rhode Island. George was employed as a “folder of cloth” when he enlisted in the US Signal Corps in April 1864. He served until 17 August 1865.
George wrote the letter to his sister, Frances (“Fannie”) Newell (Ladd) Walford (1843-1918) who married Alexander Walford, Jr. (1837-1892) on 1 October 1863 and resided in Providence where Alexander was employed as a painter.
“Please make them out [of] white cloth, hem the sides, and put a square of red cloth in the centre of the white and please send it in a letter to me. Make two of them. I want to wear them on my hat for a badge.”
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Addressed to Mrs. Alexander Walford, No. 39 Aborn St., Providence, Rhode Island[Now site of Durk’s Bar-B-Q]
Fannie,
Please make me these two flags like the picture to wear on my cap. Please make them out [of] white cloth, hem the sides, and put a square of red cloth in the centre of the white and please send it in a letter to me. Make two of them. I want to wear them on my hat for a badge.
Fannie, be sure and send them if you can make them. Flags like this. This is the part that I want you to make.
Fannie, I did not have room in the letter to ask you to send me something to read—some newspapers—for I have a great many hours that I can be reading. Send me some comick [comic] papers and I will be very much oblige[d].
— George S. Ladd, Esq.
Signal Corps, USA In the Field. Write soon.
Direct [to] George S. Ladd, Signal Corps, USA, Headquarters 10th Army Corps. In care of Capt. [Gustavus Sullivan] Dana, Signal Officer
The following letter was written by Pliny Kidder (1817-1860), a civil engineer and the son of Peter Kidder (1781-1835) and Sophia Shumway (1790-1850) of Oxford, Worcester county, Massachusetts. His death notice requested papers in Maine and Vermont to copy so he must have spent time there.
Thomas Scott Williams (1812-1874)
The letter was directed to Thomas Scott Williams (1812-1874), the son of Solomon Williams and Martha Baker of Bozrah, Connecticut. He grew up there and was by profession a civil engineer. He assisted in the survey of the Boston and Albany Railroad and Boston City Water Works, and was for several years Superintendent of the Boston and Maine Railroad. Afterwards, he was engaged in business in Boston, Massachusetts, as a dealer in railroad supplies and finally settled in Auburndale, Massachusetts.
Though is no mention of railroads made in Pliny’s letter, but I must conclude that the letter describes an attempt to survey the ground for a possible railrad to be constructed between the important Mississippi landing at Columbus, Kentucky, directly into the interior agricultural markets of West Tennessee. It wasn’t until 1861 that the railroad line between Mobile, Alabama, and Columbus, Kentucky, was completed, however.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Directed to Thomas S. Williams, Esq., Newton Corner, Massachusetts
Camp #11 near Trenton, Gibson County, Tennesse February 11th 1849
Thomas S. Williams, Esq.
Dear Sir.
I have few opportunities and none of the conveniences for writing in camp, but after so long a delay, I will try to redeem the promise I made you before I left Newton. My health has been as good as usual, since I left Newton. In coming on, I met Mr. McKean at New York and I then took the Instruments Camp fixtures, &c., for 2 parties and came on alone to Columbus, Kentucky, the place where we commenced our survey—our starting point having been altered from Cairo to that place.
My fare from Boston to Columbus was $31. Columbus is on the Mississippi [River] 18 miles below the mouth of the Ohio. It is a small place having some 12 to 15 log houses (but it is far preferable to Cairo). I arrived there Dec. 10 and after various delays, we commenced work in the field Dec. 22. Our party consists of 13 men including a commissary and cook. Seven of us are from the East, 5 Kentuckians, and the cook a Negro slave, hired at the rate of $25 per month.
For the first 2 or 3 weeks, we ran from 1 to 2 miles per day. We now run from 3 to 3 ½ miles per day. The line has generally been through a heavily timbered country, very thinly settled, and much of it low bottoms overflown in times of high water. We were 4 days in crossing one of the bottoms and the water for 3 miles was from 3 to 8 inches deep.
Mr. McKean’s Division extends from the mouth of the Ohio to Jackson, Tennessee—a distance of about 90 miles. We are to run experimental lines and make an approximate location and according to present appearances we shall not get through with the field work before August or September. I do not intend to stay until that time if I can get away. I have seen enough of this part of the country and enough of camp life to satisfy me for the present. The weather has been most disagreeable. We have seldom had two fair days together but it has been Rain! Rain!! and as for mud, I never saw any until I came here. But here it is all mud. The roads—what few they have—are almost impassable. The mud around our camp fires and about the tents in some wet times has been ankle deep.
Our bill of fare for breakfast is cornbread and pork. For dinner in the field, cornbread. For supper, pork & cornbread. We are now in the vicinity of Trenton and we fare some better but we can get neither butter nor beef nor many other things that we consider as necessary at the North. I have seen very few slaves here. We crossed one plantation where there was about 50 and the proprietor appeared to me to be a greater slave than his Negroes. I take the levels and keep up quite easy and have generally kept comfortable. But I do not think I shall again leave New England to pass a winter in Tennessee.
Please give my respects to all my inquiring friends. If convenient I should be very happy to receive an answer to this. Please direct to Trenton, Gibson County, Tennessee. With great respect, your most Humble Servant, — Pliny Kidder
This letter was written by Frederick Henry McDowell (1818-1850), the son of William Anderson McDowell (1789-1851), a Prebyterian clergyman and Doctor of Divinity who served as the corresponding secretary for the Board of Domestic Missions of the Presbyterian Church. William was born in New Jersey but received his DD degree in 1827 from Franklin College (now the University of Georgia). [See Biographical Sketch]
Eighteen year-old Frederick wrote his letter in November 1836 from Hillsborough, North Carolina, describing the community as the “most dreary place I ever was in.” We learn from the letter that he was a nephew of Frederick Nash, chief justice of North Carolina, who moved to Hillsborough in 1807. The last paragraph suggests there was some kind of disturbance in or about the village of Hillsborough that threatened the lives of its citizens. I can only conjecture that this might have to do with threats of a slave uprising in which the “young ladies” felt particularly vulnerable.
Frederick’s letter also gives us a definition of the word Yankee as it had come to be accepted in common parlance by 1836 in North Carolina. “Here it signifies all that is low, mean, and cowardly.”
Frederick died on 1 March 1850 at the age of 32. He is probably the same individual by that name who received an A.M. degree from Princeton in 1839.
T R A N S C R I P T I O N
Stampless letter to Rev. Wm. A. McDowell, D. D., Charleston, S. C.
Hillsboro [North Carolina] November [23rd] 1836
Dear Father,
I received your letter a few days ago dated Charleston & I was very glad to hear you had arrived safely for I expected nothing else than a wreck & I feared for Mother for as yet she is hardly seaworthy while at the same [time] I was almost confident if the vessel did get cast away, that you would get safely to shore. When that gale came on, my imagination pictured to me Mother exactly. I conjecture she thought you were going on the breakers. You really seem to have a tact of raising the elements about you as Orpheus had of raising the stones for there always is a blow whenever you are aboard.
But I will now speak of home. Hillsboro is the most dreary place I ever was in. It’s true there is plenty of good society & I am invited constantly to visit in it. But you know my aversion to it nothing imaginary as you used to think, but a stern reality. Every day I am asked if I have been to see such & such a one. The answer is always in the negative & I mean it shall be so. I never was intended to confer any delights on social intercourse. I never intend getting married & so there is no use of visiting ladies. But I do like the people here. They are true Southerners, noble & disinterested—none of your ifs and ands. I am invited to parties of gentlemen at which I enjoy myself very much. But they talk so much against Yankees, as they call them, & they do not know that I lived the best half of my life at the South & therefore cannot come under this term that I am really irritated. I don’t like Yankees either & won’t have that term applied to me—for here it signifies all that is low, mean, and cowardly.
Judge Frederick Nash
But I must tell you something else. I want some money. I had to get a pair of pantaloons the other day for my other ones have worn out on all sides & here I have to look mighty nice & so I have worn my new ones for it was not safe & decent to appear in the others. Well, as I said before, I have got another pair & do for gracious sake, let me pay for them for I told the man I did not know whether I could ever pay for them for I was a poor boy but I was related to Judge [Frederick] Nash to credit me. I have got some money but I want that for it is precious little. It cost me a little more than you expected to come on here. I kept a regular account & I was detained four days on the road which alone cost me $12. So please send me the money.
I have no dirk but a fine gun at my disposal but I have never shot anything better than a cow. There has been a fine fracas here & I had to gallant several young ladies & pay for them too. They swarmed so thick here that Uncle Nash had to take two. $30 will do as I am now a barrister. I have a notion of leaving here if your letter does not come on soon. Probably I may be gone before I have a fine offer but it is a good distance from here. I will give you my determination in the next. Until then, you may wonder & afterwards too very probably. I am, — F. H. McDowell
Spared & Shared 23 