Research Arsenal Spotlight 85: Hosea Paul U.S. Christian Commission

Hosea Paul was born in 1845 to Hosea and Ellen (Gamble) Paul of Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. While Hosea’s father and some of his brothers served in the Union army during the Civil War, Hosea rendered aid to the cause by serving as a delegate for the U.S. Christian Commission. His letters offer a glimpse at civil aid offered to Union soldiers.

U.S. Christian Commission

Headquarters of the US Christian Commission at Germantown, Virginia, in August 1863.
Headquarters of the US Christian Commission at Germantown, Virginia, in August 1863.

The United States Christian Commission was formed by the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) in November, 1861, in response to the poor conditions after the First Battle of Bull Run. The organization mobilized volunteers to go to Union field camps, hospitals, and battlegrounds and offer aid. Initially intended to offer assistance to chaplains and other religious personnel, the organization quickly turned to helping the overwhelmed hospitals. These volunteers were referred to as “delegates” and were the more religiously minded counterparts to other aid organizations such as the US Sanitary Commission.

When Hosea Paul joined the US Christian Commission in 1864, he was assigned duty at City Point, Virginia. He wrote his first letter on September 3, 1864.

“Yesterday being the day of assignment, I was—at my own request—detailed here which is the General Depot where everything is first brought & delegates first report. But the quarters of the Gen. Agent & accommodations for a large number of delegates are at General Hospital about a mile further up.

I do not think I will have much to do here and my work will principally be in keeping storehouse in order & perhaps doing some writing and acting as kind of assistant to the agent. The delegates at General Hospital are almost entirely preachers and those who are not are theological students. They are going among the wards trying to convert the men, conducting prayer meetings, distributing religious reading matter—mostly testaments, tracts, & religious papers, & to some extent, delicacies.

They are going to send 140 boxes peaches per day to this point. Have had a great many peaches since coming from Philadelphia & expect to have all I want to eat during the season.”

In the same letter, Hosea Paul also described visiting the 10th Army Corps with another US Christian Commission Delegate.

“Day before yesterday, in company with a delegate from New Jersey, I went up to the 10th Corps—that being the nearest & he having friends in it. I saw them firing a 13-inch mortar at Petersburg which was in plain sight, and also they kept firing a battery of 3 30-pounder parrots. The firing was quite heavy & returned to some extent by the rebel works about a mile and a half off. About a mile—or nearly that—lay our advanced picket line, separated from that of the rebels by the Appomattox [river]. The 10th Corps is the extreme right. Most of the fighting is on the Weldon [rail] road about 15 miles from here. I went out six or seven, rode out in wagons & ambulances, but had to walk most of the way back.”

Hosea Paul and Journalist Sylvanus Cadwallader

Image of Sylvanus Cadwallader.
Image of Sylvanus Cadwallader via findagrave.com

In his letters, Hosea Paul makes frequent references to Sylvanus Cadwallader who was a journalist covering General Grant and his army during the war. Cadwallader worked first for the Chicago Tribune and then for the New York Herald. He also shared a personal connection with Hosea Paul. His wife, Belle (Paul) Cadwallader, was a cousin of Hosea Paul.

On September 14, 1864, Hosea Paul first wrote about visiting Sylvanus Cadwallader and his cousin, Belle.

“This afternoon I went to Headquarters to find [Sylvanus] Cadwallader & found him in his tent. He is chief correspondent of New York Herald in this army and remains at headquarters nearly all of the time. Uncle Daniel carries dispatches for him to Baltimore & is here every third day & will be here tomorrow night.

Belle was down here a few days about the time I came here so I could have seen her. Ed. Paul is with Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley. If I want to see things now, I have a very good chance. When Belle was here, she had a fine time indeed—a steamboat at her disposal &c. &c. Cadwallader’s quarters are not over sixty rods or a quarter of mile from here and he will do most anything for me. He has a nice ambulance, saddle horses, & the reporters have stations at the various corps.”

In a letter dated September 15, 1864, Hosea Paul detailed the specifics of how Sylvanus Cadwallader got his information from various sources and forwarded it to the New York Herald.

“This afternoon [Sylvanus] Cadwallader came over & I went back with him and staid until nearly dark. He has a very comfortable and quiet place situated in some finely laid out grounds in tolerable preservation, and altogether the prettiest place about the Point. He is the only correspondent about Gen. Grant. The correspondents of other papers are mostly at the front with Gen. Meade or the various corps. But the Herald is the only paper which has an organized corps under one man. Those of the Tribune, for instance, each reporter goes on his own hook.

Cadwallader has a correspondent with each corps and also with each division of cavalry. Their reports reach Cadwallader about nine o’clock & he either cuts them down or sends them by a messenger to Baltimore where it is delivered to another messenger and thus hurried thus to the Herald establishment. If important news it is carried to Washington & telegraphed or it is often telegraphed from Baltimore. This private express system is peculiar to the Herald and Cadwallader says he was forced to adopt it as Stanton would give him no facilities—not even such as he gave to other papers. In fact. Secretary Stanton would not give him a pass & he stays here, I suppose, on Grant’s influence & special order permitting him to do so. But since the adoption of the private dispatch line, he says they are all disposed to accommodate him. But as it is less expensive than telegraphing & answers every purpose, he is not likely to change.”

Things soon became difficult for Cadwallader, as Hosea Paul detailed in a letter from September 24, when Cadwallader received a notice that he had been drafted and was unable to procure a substitute in the area.

“Cadwallader is drafted. He received the intelligence several days ago and went North this morning. He tried considerably to obtain a substitute down here but these darkies have followed the army a good while and have had plenty of opportunities to enlist if they had so desired before this. Uncle Daniel [Paul] was here yesterday and is here today.

During Cadwallader’s absence or until further arrangements, Mr. [James C.] Fitzpatrick who was with the 9th Corps will take his place.”

Hosea Paul oversees stores at City Point

While serving as a delegate for the US Christian Commission at City Point, Hosea Paul frequently detailed the various stores that were coming to the depot to be distributed, usually in large quantities.

In a letter written on September 15, 1864, Hosea Paul wrote about the arrival of new goods for distribution as well as about the other people found at City Point and the competency of the female nurses.

“The work of the Christian Commission is of growing importance. Shipments of stores from Washington are very much increased—so much so we hardly can dispose of some of the stores they send unless they send more men (delegates). I have hardly seen a woman or a dog or a buggy and no cats at all since I have been down here. The women I have seen are either hunting after somebody dead or very sick, or are nurses in the hospitals. And the nurses are essentially strong-minded & could edit a newspaper, keep a large store, or run a farm. Reinforcements are constantly arriving, many of them colored troops, substitutes, &c. They have lots of bounty jumpers, deserters &c. brought in every [day].”

Two days later, Hosea Paul revealed that the US Christian Commission had so many stores that they required more delegates to distribute them. At the same time, he mentioned a recent cavalry raid by Confederate forces that saw a large number of cattle stolen away.

“We are now receiving larger quantities of stores than we can well dispose of unless we have more delegates, stations & teams. We usually send out four or five 4-horse wagon loads each day. Yesterday morning a party of rebs got within 3 or 4 miles of here and drove off 2500 head of cattle. It was a bold operation certainly and there were many confused rumors about it yesterday. A force of cavalry was sent out to intercept them—probably too late. The cavalry force in this army is small, having mostly gone with Sheridan.”

On September 24, Hosea Paul wrote a letter describing in detail the various stores the US Christian Commission sent out.

“I do not have but little to do here but am generally on hand. We send out fifteen 4-horse wagon loads of stuff every week. They consist mostly of canned fruits, extract of Jamaica Ginger, corn starch, Farina, condensed milk, comfort bags, shirts, drawers, socks, pickles, ink, paper, envelopes, soda crackers, cheese, butter, lard, onions, potatoes, beets, dried apples, blackberry root syrup, wines, liquors &c. to some extent. In the tent they have religious newspapers, tracts, bibles, testaments, &c. &c.”

Hosea Paul chose not to stay with the US Christian Commission beyond his initial six weeks of service. He returned home and worked as a land surveyor and later as a city engineer and county auditor. He married Emma Plum in 1875 and had one daughter, Katie, who died young. He died in 1923.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Hosea Paul’s letters, as well as access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections, like Uriah Massena of the 6th West Virginia Infantry and Isaac Mead of the 17th Connecticut Infantry.

Research Arsenal Spotlight 84: Uriah Massena 6th West Virginia Infantry

Uriah Massena was born in 1842 in Pennsylanvia to Samuel Massena and Barbara (Cramer)Massena. The Messena family relocated to Cameron, Virginia (later to become part of West Virginia) before the start of the war. Uriah Massena enlisted in Company L of the 6th West Virginia Infantry. (Note: The regiment was originally called the 6th Virginia Infantry (Union) before West Virginia was made a state in 1863, but for clarity will be referred to as the 6th West Virginia throughout this article.)

West Virginia secedes from Virginia

1864 map showing the division of Virginia and West Virginia.
1864 map showing the division of Virginia and West Virginia via Wikimedia Commons.

When Virginia seceded from the United States in 1861, not everyone residing in the state agreed with that decision. The western part of the state had a large concentration of Unionists, and almost as soon as Virginia seceded from the Union they began making their own plans to secede from Virginia and develop a government still loyal to the United States. This government became known as the Restored Government of Virginia, which became the government of West Virginia after it was granted statehood in 1863.

Uriah Massena and his family were Unionists living in Marshall County, Virginia, when the war broke out. In a joint letter, Uriah Massena and his mother, Barbara, wrote to Barbara’s sister about the state of things in Virginia on August 10, 1861.

“I like the country well. All I have against it, there is too much war here. We can hear the cannons plain where we live. The soldiers are standing guard within two miles off from where we live. The 29th of July there was one hundred and 24 fires shot at our Union boys in Cameron two miles from where we live.”

After Barbara’s message above, Uriah wrote a short letter to his cousin, Christian.

“I enlisted and joined a light horse company. As soon as my time is out, I am coming to see you if I don’t get killed.”

Uriah Massena’s family in the Civil War

When Uriah Massena enlisted in the 6th West Virginia Infantry, he was not the only member of his family to join the Union army. His father, Samuel Massena, enlisted in Company D of the 11th Virginia Infantry. Uriah regularly updated his Aunt about his father’s whereabouts in his letters, too.

On May 12, 1862, Uriah Massena wrote a letter containing much grim news, he had just survived a skirmish with Confederate forces that saw 15 of his regiment killed. He’d also received news that his father had been captured.

“I must tell you my great troubles and trials. We have had great trouble with the rebels. On last Saturday [6 May 1862], they came to Arnoldsburg and took it & killed most all our men from there. They came to the Burning Springs and took it [Fort Hill]. General [Benjamin F.] Kelley took our regiment [and] marched up to the Springs which is about 5 miles from Parkersburg. There we had a fight. We lost 15 men killed and several wounded. God knows it was a hot time. There was but 300 hundred of us against one thousand rebels. We killed 30 of them and wounded 60 and took 20 prisoners. We drove them from the Springs. We expect another fight on the Big Bend of the west fork of the Kanawha [river].

Dear aunt, I am in great trouble. Oh Lord, would that I was out of the war. My friends that I love so well I never will see anymore but there is one thing—if we never meet in this world, we may meet in the next. My dear father was captured by the infernal rebels. He was took prisoner at Williamsburg, Virginia, last Monday. I have never been at home since the first of October last. There is one thing, dear Aunt, I must tell you. I got my fortune told to me and I am to get killed by the rebels. Oh, remember me. Keep this letter as long as you can. My eyes are filled with tears and my heart ready to burst. The Lord save me in endless days.”

On June 9, 1862, Uriah Massena wrote again from Parkersburg, Virginia, and revealed that his father had been released from Confederate imprisonment after taking an oath not to fight anymore. He also mentioned that his brother, Jackson, was also considering enlisting.

“I have the pleasure if telling you that we hain’t [had no] fight since the [one] up on Kanawha river and I hope that we won’t although [Gen. John B.] Floyd’s Army lays within ten miles of us. I think he will evacuate the place without fighting.

I have the best kind of news to tell you. My Pap has got home again. The rebels swore him not to fight against them any more and sent him home. I got a letter from him last week he said while he was in Richmond in the rebel jail, all he got for four days rations was four sea crackers and small pieces of old bacon. He hain’t going back to the army anymore. You said that you got a letter from mother dated April the 29th. Also you stated that she said [my brother] Jackson wanted to join the army too. I have now got furlough for ten days to go home and I know if I tell him how hard I have it and Pap tells him the same, he won’t try it. This is the first furlough that I have got yet since I have been in the U. S. A. service.

This morning we got a flag that cost two hundred dollars and we all took an oath to never let the rebels tramp it in the dust.”

Uriah Massena separates from the 6th West Virginia Infantry

1860s Lithograph of Parkersburg by A. Hoen & Company of Baltimore.
1860s Lithograph of Parkersburg by A. Hoen & Company of Baltimore via Library of Congress.

On August 19, 1862, Uriah Massena was still in Parkersburg. The 6th West Virginia Infantry, however, had been sent to Tennessee. Uriah stayed behind to work at the hospital.

“Our regiment is gone to Tennessee. I don’t [know] how long it will stay there. The talk is that it will be sent to Washington City soon. I hain’t been with my regiment for one month. I am at the post hospital at Parkersburg a tending on the sick and wounded. I have good times here. I have got a chance to study medicine. I have got fifty-two medical receipts that I paid 75 dollars for. If I live till the war is over, I will practice some. I will stay at the hospital until my regiment comes back.”

It is not clear exactly what caused Uriah Massena to go to the hospital, but in the same letter he mentions that, “My arm is about well,” so it likely was some injury to his arm.

On October 23, 1862, Uriah Massena again wrote to his aunt, this time revealing that his father had returned to the 12th Virginia Infantry and that he (Uriah) was suffering from continued ill health and looking forward to his discharge.

“Pap has enlisted [again]. He is in the 12th Virginia Regiment. They are stationed on Buchanon River 34 miles from where part of our regiment is at. If God spares my life, you can look for me about the 1st of April 1863. I am awaiting my discharge and it may not be before that time. But as soon as I get it, I am coming right straight to your house. I hain’t able for my duty anymore. I have been nearly blind with the sore eyes and I had a hard spell of the fever and my wound all together has made me unfit for the service. Soldiering is a hard life to live, let me tell you, my aunt. It takes hearty and stout men to stand it. Dear aunt, I have seen a heap of bloodshed and seen hundreds and thousands of men killed. You can’t imagine how a battlefield looks. It is awful to tell.”

He also informed his aunt that his brother, Jackson, had enlisted.

“I almost forgot to tell you that [my little brother] Jackson in in the 11th Virginia Regiment Infantry that are stationed with us at this time. I don’t think the war will last long any for the rebels are starving now and have been for a good while. Those starving are plenty in this country yet there must be good stuff in the rascals that could not stand it so long. I have been in the U. S. service 13 months and out of the 13 months, I have been at home 4 days and don’t expect to go home until I see you first, if I live.”

Uriah Massena married Nancy Jane Madden in 1864 and moved to Jasper County, Indiana. He died in 1908.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for his work in transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Uriah Massena’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections, like Isaac Mead of the 17th Connecticut Infantry and Thomas Conley of the 33rd Ohio Infantry.

Research Arsenal Spotlight 83: Isaac Mead 17th Connecticut Infantry

Isaac Mead was born in 1834 to Jonas and Abigail Mead of Greenwich, Connecticut. He married his second cousin, Esther Mead, in 1855. In August, 1862, he enlisted as a private in Company I of the 17th Connecticut Infantry.

Isaac Mead Spends Time in Camp

Photo of Isaac Mead of the 17th Connecticut Infantry.
Photo of Isaac Mead of the 17th Connecticut Infantry via seventeenthcvi.org

After being mustered in, the 17th Connecticut Infantry began its service as part of the defenses of Baltimore, Maryland. On September 27, 1862, Isaac Mead wrote to his wife about how he was earning a bit of extra money while there.

“I have been sewing for some time back. I made two towels for Henry Held and marked his name on them. He gave me 12 cts. One of the drummers had me put stripes on his blouse and pants. He gave me 25 cts. George Peck, the orderly sergeant, had me make two towels and two bandages (flannel). He has not paid me anything yet. I paid 9 cts. for tape for strings. I put two pockets in each. They are made double the edges catstitched down. It took me a good while to make them and they are very nice, I think. If he does not offer pay, I shall not think any better of him than I do now. He is very peevish. I don’t think the men like him much. If there could be another nomination of officers, I am sure there would be a great change in them. I am afraid if we were called to battle, we should not get much credit.”

On October 1, 1862, Isaac Mead wrote that he was learning the fife and considering becoming a musician in the regiment’s band rather than continuing service as a private.

“I am learning to fife. Some of the companies have no fifer & if I can be exchanged for one of the privates of one of the companies to be a fifer, it will be better for me than being on guard &c. The fife will cost me $1.00 which will take the last lot of stamps you sent. I have to spend some money but am not so extravagant as some. Some have spent nearly $50.00 since being here for provision &c. Father told me when he was in Bridgeport that I might have his fife if I wanted to learn but the fifers expect soon to use a different kind than his.”

The 17th Connecticut Infantry on the March

On November 20, 1862, Isaac Mead wrote a letter recounting the 17th Connecticut Infantry’s difficult march to Chantilly, Virginia.

“We started last Tuesday for this place about 7 o’clock. Our Colonel hurried us into line. We had to wait awhile for some other regiment to start first. It was reported that we were on a retreat. I don’t know how that is, but our Col. told the sick ones that those who stayed behind would fall into the hands of the rebs. That was hard. Some hardly able to stand, they must walk and carry a load. That is too much for many well men. Some who were sick could ride in ambulance wagon but they were few compared to the whole number who ought to ride. I know some would say how can a man travel so if he is unable. He does it by feeling that he must & using great exertion. I know of one who had been in the hospital a day or two. He acted as though he could hardly stand, but he had to walk and carry his knapsack. I saw him after marching a few miles, his mouth was open and he panting as though he was almost gone. Not long after he was missing. He had dropped by the way. At night he came in, I believe.

I said it was reported we were on a retreat. When we commenced out march it looked very much so as we started very fast for men who had a load to carry. This seemed to tire me out fast, but I felt that I must stick & hang as long as possible. I kept up until 12½ o’clock, when we halted for an hour. We ate some crackers and cold meat. Some of us started to find water. We found some frost grapes which although about the size of dried currants and as sour, yet made a good relish with dry crackers. Before we had quite finished our dinner, toot–toot goes the bugle to fall in. Some said we had come 10 miles. We felt as though we had. But there was no time to think about it. Even thinking seems tiresome.

How still it is. Hardly a word spoken. Hardly a sound but the splosh of the men’s feet in the mud for it had commenced to rain. This made the walking still harder. Well, we kept digging along as well as we could, one after another falling out by the way, for the slippery walking—especially up and down steep hills—wore out the men fast. Towards night we came to some log huts which I suppose were used by the rebels as winter quarters. These we occupied. We got wood and built a fire in our house. There were six of us in it. At one end was a fireplace. The chimney which was outside was made of sticks put up cob house fashion & the cracks plastered with mud and the fireplace lined with stone.”

A few weeks later, Isaac Mead wrote home with some exciting news: he had unexpectedly been promoted from private to 5th sergeant.

“Regiment inspection is rather tedious. We had to stand in the cold quite awhile. At the close of the inspection, we were marched into our street. Capt. [Wilcoxon] told the company that he would make the appointments to fill the vacancies in the officers. Orderly Peck has been promoted to be Sergeant Major. Dennie Vagan, our 3rd Sergeant, takes his place. The other two sergeants — that is the 4th & 5th — step up a step & become the 3rd & 4th. Henry Held was 2nd Sergeant & is the same now. Private Isaac L. Mead is put in 5th Sergeant & William J. Platt of Round Hill (blacksmith) is Corporal in place of Frank Elliott who is taken for a teamster. I expected until last Sunday that one of the corporals would be our 5th Sergeant, but Sergeant Major [George C.] Peck told me then that I was the one selected. It is quite a jump to go from private to sergeant. I thought perhaps I might be a corporal was one reason I did not think best to join the band.”

Isaac Mead did face some ill feelings from the corporals that were passed over when he was promoted to sergeant, but he hoped that the hurt and jealously wouldn’t last for long as he did his best as a sergeant.

“Wednesday noon. I am on guard at one of the Gen’ls. Headquarters. I am sergeant of the guard — rather soon for a green officer to be put on duty. I asked the Capt. to excuse me until I knew my duties but he told me I would do well enough. We had regimental drill this morning. Our Lieut.-Col. [Charles Walter] told the regiment to fix up nice for a review tomorrow. When we came in from drill this morning, Capt. [Wilcoxon] cautioned the men about being noisy & spoke about some manifestations of dislike to one of his appointments. He said he had appointed a faithful soldier. He said a little more intimating that he was satisfied with his choice. Last night some of the boys were calling, “Sergeant Mead” &c. Some did it for fun. I took it all in good part. Some of the corporals are dissatisfied because a private is put over them but I guess things will be right soon.”

Transfer to the Invalid Corps

Postwar image of Isaac Mead. 
Postwar image of Isaac Mead via findagrave.org.

On June 9, 1863, Isaac Mead wrote from a hospital in Washington. He had been sent there after falling ill and shared the grim news that another man in his room had died.

“Another man died last night in this room making the third since I have been here. I continue to gain very slowly.”

By November, 1863, he had moved to Camp Convalescent at Alexandria, Virginia, and hoped to be transferred to the Invalid Corps (soon to be renamed the Veteran Reserve Corps) but his doctors continued to withhold judgement.

“Yesterday morning the men in this barrack were examined before the division doctor. Today those who were recommended to the Invalid Corps were examined by the board. The doctor told me to come to him this morning. He ordered a dose of tincture of iron, I should think it was. He did not tell me what I might expect. I suppose I must stay another month before we are examined again.”

In the same letter he revealed that he did not think his health would recover if he was sent south back to his regiment.

“As I think my health will not stand the Southern climate in the summertime, I do not wish to look very well until I am put in the Invalid Corps. This may seem hard talk, but the doctor goes as much by looks as anything. I very much fear I shall not be put in the Invalid Corps but I have felt more trust in Providence today than in some time before.”

Isaac Mead’s transfer to the Veteran Reserve Corps did not occur until August, 1864 when he was transferred to Company C of the 6th Infantry Regiment VRC. His earlier efforts at learning the fife led him into having a position in the regimental band.

On April 27, 1865, Isaac Mead wrote from Johnson’s Island, Ohio, and told his wife about a recent performance of the band in honor of President Lincoln’s funeral procession. Despite the solemn occasion, the event turned out to be unexpectedly humorous.

“There was to be a brigade dress parade and Col. [Frederic S.] Palmer told Mr. Vinton that the band must come out in blue jackets. Mr. V. told him that the jackets had not been fitted. No matter — they must wear them. So we rigged up. My jacket came up to my ears and was too big other ways. George Merriman and Jack Reed looked as bad if not worse than I. We were suited as long as we had to wear them and if anything, made them look a little worse than necessary (not much though). We were about as comical-looking soldiers as are often seen.

We marched to the parade ground of the 128th Ohio Regiment and as soon as the other band (128th) saw us they commenced laughing. A good many citizens were looking on and no doubt enjoyed a good laugh. What made us look worse was the other band were as nice as though they had just come out of a band box. We played a funeral march down the line and the other band played a march back. The drum corps went ahead, our band next, and the other band behind. Some say that we played well. Mr. V. said he didn’t care how we looked but we must play as good as we could, and so we did.”

Isaac Mead was discharged on July 5, 1865. He returned home to his wife and three children and later took over his father’s undertaking business. He died in 1913.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for his work in transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Isaac Mead’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Thomas Conley of the 33rd Ohio Infantry and Seth Bishop of the 4th Vermont Infantry.

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 82: Thomas Conley 33rd Ohio Infantry

Thomas Conley was born around 1843 in Ohio. His father’s name isn’t known but his mother’s name was Margaret and she was born in Ireland. Thomas Conley enlisted on August 18, 1861 in Company B of the 33rd Ohio Infantry. He wrote the letters in this collection to his sister, Catherine (“Kate”), who married Joel C. Gabriel on March 13, 1861. His brother, James, is also frequently mentioned in the letters and resided with his mother.

The 33rd Ohio Infantry in Kentucky and Alabama

Army of the Tennessee at Huntsville, Alabama.
Army of the Tennessee at Huntsville, Alabama.

The first letter written by Thomas Conley in our collection was written on January 28, 1862 from Camp Jefferson, Kentucky. After being mustered into service in September 1861, the 33rd Ohio Infantry spent its first months in Kentucky. Thomas Conley wrote his letter while avoiding dress parade by hiding in a tent used to the store the arms of sick soldiers. He also revealed that he had just recently gotten over having the mumps.

“I received your letter 2 hours ago and was so glad to hear from you [that] I stopped writing a letter to Mary Jane. I received your letter and then finished writing her letter and against I got it done it was drill time and I had to go out and drill 2 hours. I have just got in from drill and am writing in an old tent where no one stays. It is used to keep the sick men’s guns in. I get in here so no one will trouble me while I am writing. I cannot write when there is so many around me. I am well now and hope these few lines may find you enjoying the same blessing.

I have got well of the mumps. They made me very sick for 2 days. I was not able to get out of the tent. I sent for the doctor. He came and gave me a puke. It made me sick for a little while but I soon got over that and as soon as I got over that the mumps was all right.

They have gone on dress parade. I slipped them this time but if the captain knew I was writing he would have me in dress parade but I am too sharp for him.”

In the same letter Thomas Conley revealed the strained dynamics of his company, with his captain, Ephraim Ellis, and 2nd lieutenant, Ellis Ramsey, frequently at odds with 1st Lieutenant Edwin De Bruin.

“Ramsey is just like he was at home. He is as quarrelsome as ever and a heap more big feeling. The captain is the same way but him and Ramsey has always treated me with respect and I treated them the same way. But DeBruin has not got the living of a cat in hell with them. They quarrel with him all the time. But he is the best fellow that ever lived. He treats me like a father and I treat him like a son. When the war is over, it will be like breaking up families and that is bad to part one another.”

On June 2, 1862, the 33rd Ohio Infantry was in Huntsville, Alabama. Thomas Conley wrote very positively of the war’s current condition to his sister and assured her that they had the rebels on the run.

“The rebels were plenty when we came here but we made them get up and dust. They don’t like the looks of the Yankees and they run so we can’t get to see them—only them that we can outrun and take prisoners.”

In the same letter he also wrote to his brother-in-law, Joel Gabriel, about the war.

“Well Joel, I must write you something about warfare. We are in the sunny clime of the South now. We are at Huntsville, 12 miles from the Tennessee River. We can hear the boats whistle plain here. We have a nice camp. It is in a grove and we have the ground clean. We don’t know how long we will stay here. It is a pretty country here. We get plenty to eat here and think the war will soon be over. The news came here that Jeff Davis was taken prisoner at Richmond and Beauregard with him. I wish the was was over till I get home once more and see all the folks and get to run around some once more, I think in the course of 2 months I will be at home all right again and I can come and see you living in a farm and having plenty of everything good to eat. That is the main thing now-a-days.”

His news about Jefferson Davis and General Beauregard of course proved false.

Thomas Conley’s Thoughts on the War

On May 12, 1863, Thomas Conley was at Murfreesboro, Tennessee. In a letter home to his sister, he revealed how the war had altered his thoughts on slavery. Before the war he considered himself a democrat and was against ending slavery, but he now found himself fighting to end it.

“But now I am in for putting down this rebellion. No man can be in the army now without acting out the abolition principles but they are not my choice but the nature of the case compels me and a good many others to differ in principles. We are not of the same opinion here as we are when we are at home but I am down on the abolition wherever they may be—that is, them at home who are the first to tell everybody to go but they will not go themselves nor their friends if they can help it. This thing of neighbors not being sociable on account of politics is nonsense for they ought to be friendly and go to church together for if they should happen to go to Heaven. they would not be friendly there.

But as for my part, the abolitions will have to mend their ways or they will never see the happy shore. I suppose you know as much about Vallandingham’s case as I do. There is great rejoicing over it here. Well that is about all about politics.”

Thomas Conley Writes About Morgan’s Raid

Photo of Confederate General John Hunt Morgan.
Photo of Confederate General John Hunt Morgan via Wikimedia Commons.

By August, 1863, the 33rd Ohio Infantry was back in Alabama. On August 12, 1863, Thomas Conley wrote from Crow Creek, Alabama, to talk with his sister about Confederate General John Hunt Morgan’s raid into several northern states, including Ohio, and the terror it caused the civilians there. Much of his news about it seems to have come from his mother, Margaret.

“Well Kate, from what mother wrote to me, if Morgan had come back through there again, Joel would’ve been without a wife for he was at mothers nearly crazy hunting you. That is another reason you had for not writing for when we get among the enemy, we cannot write but aim to write before we get in with the enemy.

Well Kate, I suppose you was frightened when you heard Morgan was in the country. I know I would if I had been there but I would liked to been there to seen the fun. But I have seen him once and that is enough for anyone.”

A couple weeks later Thomas Conley wrote again from Crow Creek on August 25, 1863, and talked about receiving corn with his rations and stealing other food from local farmers.

“I had plenty of green corn to eat July here. They issue corn to us like other rations. Six ears a day. Peaches are ripe here and sweet potatoes are large enough to eat. I went about 2 miles last night and stole a bushel of them and while I was digging them the old woman came out and cried out to get out of that patch you damned thieves. You are the raking of God’s earth and all I said was for the old lady, “‘Keep your shirt on.’”

Thomas Conley’s final letter in our collection was written on May 21, 1865 from Alexandria, Virginia. In this letter he hoped to be mustered out soon, but wasn’t sure when veterans like him would be.

“I wish I could see all you and mother more than all. I don’t know whether I will get home soon or not as is reported the Veterans are going to be kept and if they are, I am going to North Carolina with a captain on Gen. Kilpatrick’s staff but it is supposition about the Veterans. Gen. Sherman says he is going to have his army mustered out soon as they get their papers made out. Gen. Sherman’s army is going to be reviewed on the 24th of this month in Washington City. It is going to be one of the grandest things of the war.”

Thomas Conley mustered out on July 12, 1865. He died sometime before 1886. He was buried at Ashridge Cemetery in Ash Ridge, Ohio. His mother, brother James, and sister Ann (Conley) Rhoten were buried at the same cemetery.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for transcribing and sharing these records.

To read more of Thomas Conley’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out our other featured collections like Seth Bishop of the 4th Vermont Infantry and Perry Farlow of the 29th Wisconsin Infantry.

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 81: Seth Bishop 4th Vermont Infantry

Seth Bishop was born in 1839 to Chauncey Bishop and Samantha (Stearns) Bishop of Readsboro, Vermont. On April 12, 1862, he enlisted in Company I of the 4th Vermont Infantry.

Seth Bishop in Virginia

Seth Bishop’s parents, Chauncey Bishop and Samantha (Stearns) Bishop.
Seth Bishop’s parents, Chauncey Bishop and Samantha (Stearns) Bishop via Findagrave.com

Seth Bishop wrote the majority of his letters to his brothers and sisters at home. On June 16, 1862 he wrote a letter datelined from “Camp Fort Smith” and said that although his camp was under fire from Confederate artillery, he personally was not afraid because he believed that you only died when your time came so it was useless to worry.

“I hain’t been sick any since that I left home. I can lay right on the ground and sleep as well as I did when I was at home in a feather bed and don’t think anymore about being in danger than I did when I was at home. They throw their shells over in our camp every little while and the boys dodge so but I tell them that there is no use of their dodging for they won’t die till their time comes, so that if it is right for me to die here, I am satisfied & tell them that I don’t believe that ever there was any man ever saved by being afraid for while they are trying to get out of danger, they might get right in danger.”

In the same letter he also wrote about a joking exchange between Union and Confederate pickets about their plans for the 4th of July.

“Saturday eve their pickets were right in [sight] of us. They would talk back and forth to each other. They wanted to know where that we was going to the Fourth of July. I told them that I should call into Richmond and take [ ]. They said come on, they would treat us first rate but I don’t know I shall.”

On November 30, Seth Bishop wrote from Falmouth, Virginia. He talked about the recent meal he’d gotten after a church meeting and compared it to food at home. He hoped the war would end soon but didn’t think it likely.

“I have been to meeting today and have got back and had some baked beans for dinner and they were as good as you can cook at home. But the pies I like and ginger bread & puddings and rich things we don’t have out here but then I understand how to fare pretty well out here, I think, for I have plenty things to eat—rich as they be—but I should like to be there to take supper with you once in awhile. But then I think that I shan’t be this winter for we have got to settle up with the grey coats before we come home and we can’t tell how long it will take to settle for they are rough and tough [ ] to settle with. But I think that they will be glad to settle it before next spring for I think they are getting rather homesick of it by what they say. But I can stand it as long as any of them for when I am here, I shan’t be anywhere else and it agrees with me first rate.”

Winter near White Oak Church, Virginia.

The 4th Vermont Infantry spent early 1863 encamped near White Oak Church, Virginia. Seth Bishop wrote a series of letters from that location beginning with one penned on January 27, 1863, where he voiced his displeasure with politicians and citizens in Washington and hoped they would be sent to fight.

“I wish that them men around Washington were obliged to take their guns & [ ] and go into the field for as hard as [ ]. Then when they go into a fight, I wish that they would see them skirmish & I might like to be the reserve and if they undertook to run I would stop them.”

On February 25, Seth Bishop wrote about the snow in camp, though he seemed to mind it very little.

“We have had some snow here this winter but it don’t stay on long at a time. When it comes, it comes in a hurry. The other night I was out on picket. When I lay down the stars shone bright. But before morning it began to snow and when I waked up the snow were about all over us. So you see that we were very warm that night. Then in the morning we had to make us some coffee and east some hard bread & pork & then I packed up my things & went on post & had a good time.

But I suppose that you will say that you would not want such a bed to stay in. But it is white and nice as you please. I wish that you could have [been here] in the morning to see me & seen what a nice house we have got & nice furniture.”

Even into early spring, the 4th Vermont Infantry remained at White Oak Church. On April 11, 1863, Seth Bishop wrote to his sister about how he spent his day. (Seth Bishop’s handwriting is somewhat difficult to read and so there are a few omitted words.)

“I am well and have some good times but we are drilling every day. I will tell you what we had to do yesterday. In the morning I went on police, then we mustered, then came in to have roll call. Then we had barracks inspection, then went on brigade drill. Then came in & got some supper and then had roll call & then we went over to the ambulance train to [ ], & then had high times, We had plenty of lemon punch and everything went [ ]. Then I came home and found two letters in my tent for me and from home & the others from you so I had to read them before I went to bed.”

The 4th Vermont Infantry in 1863

Photograph of Edwin Stoughton, the original colonel of the 4th Vermont Infantry.
Photograph of Edwin Stoughton, the original colonel of the 4th Vermont Infantry.

After leaving White Oak Church, Seth Bishop wrote his next letter from a camp near Falmouth, Virginia, on May 24, 1863. His duty there seemed relatively light, and he mentioned having a swim in the Potomac River.

“Sunday two o’clock, we have had inspection but I have been down to the Potomac swimming and have got back and hain’t got anything to do [so] I thought I would write a few lines to you although you don’t never write to me.”

On June 18, 1863 Seth Bishop wrote home after the 4th Vermont Infantry underwent some heavy marching.

“I can’t write but a few lines this time for I have been marching lately and I am so tired now. I don’t know where we shall go for the rebels have got into Maryland again and I don’t care only they fix there handful. I want they they should burn up Washington and Baltimore for there is as more secesh there than there is in the South.

I can’t write any more this time for I am played out tired for we hain’t had much chance to stay hardly more rest much for the past all through twenty miles [and] with four days rations and all of our things besides.

I will close by telling you that there [were] forty men dropped down the day before yesterday.”

After the New York Draft Riots in July, 1863, the 4th Vermont Infantry was sent to do duty in New York City and made their camp in Central Park. The proximity to Vermont (relative to his usual distance in Virginia) had Seth Bishop hoping that his brother, Ransom, might be able to come down to visit, as he wrote in a letter dated August 24.

“I received your kind letter some days ago and would have answered it before now but I have been busy the most of the time so you must excuse me for not writing you before. I am well and enjoying life first rate and I hope that these few lines will find you the same. I would like to have you and Ransom come out and see me but I don’t suppose it will be so that you could, but if you can’t I hope that after the draft is completed that I might get a chance to come home on a short furlough.”

By September 5, 1863, Seth Bishop and the 4th Vermont Infantry had returned to Virginia.

“I am tough and hearty and I had a fine time in New York and I would like to have stayed my time out there but we have got orders for the front again. But I don’t care for I think that it will be all right for we hain’t got but eight months longer to serve.”

Seth Bishop reenlisted in the 4th Vermont Infantry on March 28, 1864. On June 3, 1864, he was wounded at the Battle of Cold Harbor. After the war, he returned to Vermont and worked as a farmer until he died at the age of 40 in 1879. He was married twice. First to Susan E. Whitney in 1864 and later to Harriet S. Hicks in 1868.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Seth Bishop’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Perry Farlow of the 29th Wisconsin Infantry and Joseph Patterson of the 90th Pennsylvania Infantry. [https://researcharsenal.com/joseph-patterson-90th-pennsylvania-infantry/]

 

 

 

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 80: Perry Farlow 29th Wisconsin Infantry

Perry Farlow was born in 1842 to Alfred and Anna Marie (Taylor) Farlow of Dodge County, Wisconsin. He enlisted in Company K of the 29th Wisconsin Infantry on August 21, 1862. The regiment was organized at Camp Randall in Madison, Wisconsin, and mustered into United States service on September 27, 1862.

The 29th Wisconsin Infantry at Camp Randall

Engraving of Camp Randall as it looked in 1862.
Engraving of Camp Randall as it looked in 1862 via National Park Service Gallery.

Perry Farlow began his letters while the 29th Wisconsin Infantry was still organizing at Camp Randall. Before leaving for the south, he was eager for his loved ones to visit and see him off. On September 4, 1862, he wrote a very short note to his mother asking her to let him know if she was coming.

“I wish you would make me a small party next Saturday as the Captain will not let us off any other night except Saturday and if you will ask the boys to come, let me know how many to ask and send back word by Robert McCracken and oblige your much loved son.”

On October 14, 1862, the 29th Wisconsin Infantry was still at Camp Randall and Perry Farlow again asked his family to come.

“I got through all right and drawed my overcoat and pants after I got here and am going to draw our undercoats and knapsacks tomorrow. Our guns will be here in a few days. And if you want to see us before we go, you will have to come down here right off for we will not stay here more than a week, if we do that. Our cooks had orders last night to cook three days rations so to be ready to start but I don’t think we will go inside of a week. But the Colonel said we would not stay here more than ten days more, if we do that. And I wish you would come out here and tell the folks round there to come for I have not got time to write to all of them.”

Perry Farlow in Arkansas

1865 Photo showing the Tappan House in Helena, Arkansas which was used by officers of the Union army.
1865 Photo showing the Tappan House in Helena, Arkansas which was used by officers of the Union army via Wikimedia Commons.

When Perry Farlow next wrote home to his parents, it was from Arkansas. On November 9, 1862 he detailed the regiment’s travel south.

“It is Sunday once more but if I had not heard someone say [it], I would not know from the way things go round here. We do not have any Sundays here in camp, It is an awful wicked place for a man if he does not look out for himself. I will not tell you the whole story from Camp Randall here for I wrote the whole thing in Frank’s letter and told him to let you read it and so I begin where I left off in his letter for I have got a good deal of writing to do and I want to do it today.

As I said, we got here in the morning just at sunrise. It was a nice day and we had nice weather all the way down here. We landed in Helena, Arkansas, but there was a good many men on that side of the river and the Colonel thought it would be better to cross where there was not any and so we are on the opposite side from Helena and all alone. But we expect two or three more regiments in a few days. We did not get off the boat till most noon that day and then we went to work and cleared off the camp ground and a little before sundown. We got our tents and set them up and was ready for sleep for the first time in Rebeldom for we did not sleep much on the boat for it was so cold we could not.

Talk about going south to a warmer climate—it is a little warmer in the daytime but it is not any warmer at night. But the first night I was here I slept pretty good and in the morning I found out that I had to go out as Corporal of the Picket Guard and had to go up the river three miles. There was 29 out six of the companies that had to go up there so we had quite a little army with us. We went up in a boat. Our company was the first to come on [duty]. We went on from eight till ten and then we did not have to go on again till 8 o’clock at night.”

In November, part of the 29th Wisconsin Infantry was sent on an expedition up the White River but Perry Farlow was selected to stay behind, as he wrote in a letter dated November 20, 1862.

“There has 400 out of our regiment gone from here. I don’t know where they have gone to. Kib went with them. The Captain would not let me go but maybe it is just as well for I think the boys will smell powder before they get back. There was 8 thousand went from the other side of the river. They left last Saturday night about five o’clock. They went down the river.”

In the same letter he detailed what had occurred on a recent picket duty.

“I have not been sick a day since I enlisted and I never felt better in my life than I do now. We have pretty hard times standing picket since the boys went away. The last time I was on picket, I took one guerrilla and fetched him into camp and yesterday there was two came in under a flag of truce. Their business was to go across the river to exchange prisoners.”

On November 23, Perry Farlow wrote about the results of the expedition when the regiment returned.

“The boys that went out on that expedition have got back. They went down to White River and the river was so low they could not go up. They was calculating to go up White River to Little Rock but they could not and so they had to come back. They said they was not off of the boat but two hours while they was gone. They was just a week. It made a good many of them sick. Mr. Perry has been sick most all the while since he was gone but he has got some better since he came back and there was two others out of our company that had to be carried from the boat to the hospital on a bed. There is three out of our company in the hospital and a few more that is not very well. But if the boys had stayed down there another week, there would have been some of them that would never come back and a good many of them sick.”

Sickness in the 29th Wisconsin Infantry

Perry Farlow’s comments about the many men sickened during the expedition hinted at more trouble to come, though at the time Perry Farlow didn’t understand the gravity of it. On November 30, 1862, he wrote home about Thanksgiving celebrations at the camp and mentioned the camp’s source of water.

“I suppose you had great times up there last Thursday Thanksgiving and talked a great deal about us and wished we had some of your victuals to eat but we did not think so for we have plenty to eat and good river water to drink. It is a little muddy but that is nothing as long as it tastes good. It is better than the spring or well water is down here. We have beans and rice every day and sometimes potatoes and plenty of hard crackers. We are going to have flour so we can make bread and pancakes now. We have eat all together till day before yesterday when we divided up in squads of twenty-four each which I like much better.”

Contaminated water was a major source of illness throughout the war it is likely the river water Perry Farlow described as “a little muddy” was also more than a little unhealthy.

On December 9, 1862, Perry Farlow wrote home and listed some of the men in his company who had gotten very sick.

“There is several of our boys that are unwell and some that are very sick. B[enjamin L.] Hales, Mr. [Sumner G.] Sanders, Simon [A.] Terwilliger, [and] J[ames] P. Tripp is in the hospital and [Samuel] James Hodge is in there too. There was one of our boys died tonight a little after four o’clock. He was well and up round last Friday and Sunday night he went to the hospital and tonight he died. His heart was affected. His name is John Nash. You can see that record. He is as good a boy as there is in the camp. Mr. [William V.] Perry is very sick. I don’t know what ails him. Alvin [W.] Hamilton has got the measles. He was taken with them last Sunday.”

Not long after, Perry Farlow himself became sick with typhoid, a disease that spreads through contaminated food or water. On January 30, 1863, Perry was too sick to write a letter himself, so Sergeant Kilburn Clifford wrote to his family for him instead.

“Mr. Farlow, Sir,

It is with regret that I seat myself this morning to write you a few lines for Perry. He don’t get no better as I can see. He wanted that I should write to you for he was not able and let you know all about it. I tell you, sir, it is a hard place to be sick in. Even the sick that are in the hospital have to lay on the ground—only one blanket under them for three or four days after we have been moving. One thing certain, the more medicine one takes from our doctors, the worse they are off. I don’t know [what] the trouble is with Perry but I should think that he has got a fever of some kind.”

Less than a week later, on February 5, 1863, Perry Farlow died. In all, the 29th Wisconsin Infantry lost 3 officers and 242 enlisted men to disease during the war.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for his work in transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Perry Farlow’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Joseph Patterson of the 90th Pennsylvania Infantry and Mahlon Thatcher of the 40th Massachusetts Infantry.

 

 

 

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 79: Joseph Patterson 90th Pennsylvania Infantry

Joseph Patterson was born in December, 1847 to Robert Patterson and Elizabeth (Gilles) Patterson. He was not yet 14 years old when he enlisted as a drummer in Company I, 90th Pennsylvania Infantry on September 24, 1861. His extreme youth offers a unique perspective on the war and military life.

Joseph Patterson at Fredericksburg

The letters in our collection begin in May, 1862, when Joseph Patterson and the 90th Pennsylvania Infantry were stationed near Fredericksburg, Virginia. Joseph Patterson started his letter with an admonishment to his parents for sending him things by way of a lieutenant without telling him the lieutenant’s name or regiment.

“But you say you sent a pair of gaiters by a lieutenant. I have not seen lieutenant, letter or gaiters yet. I don’t think I will ever see them. I think it is dumb in you sending them by him. You did not tell me who he is nor where to go look for him nor what regiment he is in.”

Joseph Patterson mentioned that he met with another cousin, Bill, also serving in the Union Army.

“I seen cousin Bill a couple a days ago and you would not know [him]—he looked as old as Uncle did when he was out there. I did not know him. He says he could make more home now that where he is. Aunt died last fall or spring, I don’t know which, and he could live better now than that time. He is well now and sends his love and respects to you. He is going to Philadelphia if they get discharged in Harrisburg.”

Towards the end of the letter, Joseph Patterson revealed that he had evidently caused some trouble at home before enlisting in the army.

“Now Father, if I don’t never return home, one out of family is not any loss. I was always a bad boy [at] home, but I have changed now. I look and feel more of a man now. I am able to take care of myself [even] if I don’t have anybody to take care of me.”

He also implored his parents not to believe any rumors about him and swore he would never desert the regiment.

“What is the matter with you? Is somebody been telling you more lies about me. Don’t believe anything anybody tells you. There will be a day some time that everything will be right. What do you mean by a business hand. Won’t you know it is from me? I will put my 3 initials on the envelope. Then you will know it is from me before you open it. If you look at the papers to find me deserting the regiment, you will look forever for that is a thing I will never do—no never.”

The 90th Pennsylvania Infantry in Virginia

Portrait of Confederate General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson.
Portrait of Confederate General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson.

On June 3, 1862, Joseph Patterson wrote home with an account of what the 90th Pennsylvania Infantry had been up to since leaving Fredericksburg. The regiment was in pursuit of “Stonewall” Jackson and much of Joseph Patterson’s account had to do with the conduct of General James Shields who commanded the 2nd Division of the 5th Corps.

“I have been on the tramp all of this week and last week. We left Fredericksburg Sunday week and marched to Aquia Creek which is about 20 miles and then took the boat for Alexandria and then got off the boat and took the cars for Manassas. We laid at Manassas about a day and then went on the march again. We left Manassas about 5 o’clock and stopped about 7 miles from there and took up the tramp again in the morning. We kept on doing that for 5 days. It has been raining half of the time. We have been after Jackson, Johnson, [and] Ewell ever since we left Manassas. You know that time I told you Shields left Winchester, he was put under arrest for marching away from it. Just as soon as he left it, Jackson marched into and captured all he could lay his hands on. He got a great deal of provisions from what he captured. Shields left Fredericksburg in the morning and our brigade left in the afternoon.

Yesterday Shields was fighting. I could hear the cannonading as plain as if I was up at the spot. Yesterday they fetched in a lieutenant. He was shot in the arm while out on picket. Mother and Father, you need not fret. I don’t have to go on picket now. We expect to have a fight with them pretty soon. They are pretty well armed. Their best cavalry is not far from us. It is Ashby’s Cavalry. I’ve see the Colonel’s house that commanded the cavalry. When we got in Front Royal, the depot was just burning. You know how near we are to them. It is a funny thing that we can’t catch him.

They are General Banks, Fremont, Shields and McDowell after him. I hear he is beginning to smell a mouse. He thinks we got him surrounded. I think it is so. He will have to fight his way through. He wants to get going. If we only get them, we can go right on to Richmond. There are no armies between this and Richmond. Jackson is the one we want to get. He is the commander of the guerrillas. They call themselves the Mountain Tigers. They are on horses. They show no mercy. They shoot you right down. But if we had him, we would show him what he’s about.”

On June 22, 1862, Joseph Patterson wrote from Front Royal, Virginia, and informed his family about the recent accident of General Irvin McDowell.

“I suppose you heard of Gen. McDowell getting hurt. We just came here as he fell off of his horse. He did not fall off the horse, the horse reared up and he thought he would come down on his feet again but the horse fell over backward on top of the General.  He made a narrow escape. The doctor did not think he would live but he is recovering. He is the one that is keeping Gen. McClellan from attacking Richmond. He won’t attack it till he finds McDowell is well fixed in Western Virginia but I think we will go down in reinforce McClellan. The Major General of our division is resigned and is now serving under Gen. Halleck out west. Our Brigadier General is Major General but I don’t know who will be Brigade General.”

In November, 1862, Joseph Patterson wrote a short letter to his brother that gave a hint at some of his dissatisfaction with his current military life.

“You talk about me learning you to play the drum if ever I get home safe. I never want to hear the sound of a drum. I am so tired hearing the drums now that I hate them. They are so unhandy to carry in a march—that is the reason I hate them—and it is hard to keep a drum in order, to keep it out of the rain. Such little tents we get, not like home, keeping a drum where you got a parlor to keep it.”

Joseph Patterson Goes AWOL

1862 Photograph of Union troops at Federal Hill overlooking Baltimore, Maryland. Joseph Patterson went to Baltimore and turned himself in after going AWOL from his regiment in 1863. Photo via Mount Clare Museum.
1862 Photograph of Union troops at Federal Hill overlooking Baltimore, Maryland. Joseph Patterson went to Baltimore and turned himself in after going AWOL from his regiment in 1863. Photo via Mount Clare Museum.

There is a gap in our collection of letters spanning the beginning half of 1863. When the letters resumed on July 22, 1863, Joseph Patterson revealed that he has currently left his regiment without leave and turned himself in to the Provost Marshal of Baltimore.

“I now sit down to write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well & enjoying good health at present & I hope you are the same. I left the regiment just as they were crossing the river to go in Virginia at Berlin. I jumped on a train of cars and came down here to Baltimore to run around town a couple of days & reported to Provost Marshal of Baltimore for transportation to the regiment again and he sent me to this camp to wait here till they send me. I left the regiment without permission and I feel a little uneasy about it & I would like to get to the regiment or else come home & wait till the army gets settled in camp. I did not feel like walking around Virginia so I did not go.

Now if you like and [want to] come down & fetch [me] a suit of [civilian] clothes, I will come up and stay home till the army gets settled, or if you don’t like it, I will stay here and wait till they send me to the regiment. But it will be a long time I think. I don’t like it in this camp and I would rather be anywhere than here. I am very sorry I ever left the regiment at all but I don’t know what ever made me come to Baltimore.

I am out of money and I hear that the Army of the Potomac is getting paid off so I think I won’t get any money this pay day and likely they will take 2 months pay off for leaving the regiment without permission. When you answer this, please send me a couple of dollars if you don’t come yourself.”

By August 13, 1863, Joseph Patterson had rejoined the 90th Pennsylvania Infantry at Rappahannock Station. In his letter home he described his disdain for the new recruits and joked about the time he and his mother had spent together in Baltimore.

“We have received 150 new substitutes tonight and a worse set than before. One died coming along on the boat and the one that was shot in the Delaware belonged to them too, so they say, but I don’t believe them. The bearer of this letter is Sergeant Hagerty. He told me he would take $20 to you so I thought I would send it being you done so much for me on that little excursion of ours. I’ll bet you I won’t forget the leaky car that night. Do you remember the sarsaparilla in Baltimore? I could drink a good glass now if I had it. I wonder what the Colonel of the Camp Bradford said when I did not return in the morning. I guess he thinks I am making a long night of it in Baltimore. If he only knowed what was in the valise that day.

How would you like to have another walk like that night?”

Joseph Patterson continued to serve in the 90th Pennsylvania Infantry until he completed his 3 year term in September 1864. He applied for a disability pension in 1865 for chronic diarrhea but was denied. He went to work in his father’s company as a shipping merchant in Philadelphia. Joseph Patterson died in 1901.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for his work in transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Joseph Patterson’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Mahlon Thatcher of the 40th Massachusetts Infantry and William Augur of the 7th Connecticut Infantry.

Research Arsenal Spotlight 78: Mahlon Thatcher 40th Massachusetts Infantry

Mahlon Thatcher was born in 1821 to John and Charlotte Thatcher of Hunterdon County, New Jersey. He later moved to Boston and worked as a salesman. In 1850 he married Julia Wallace and the couple had three children together before Mahlon enlisted in the Union army on June 26, 1862.

Mahlon Thatcher joins the 40th Massachusetts Infantry

Camp of the 40th Massachusetts Infantry at Miner’s Hill, Virginia in 1862. Mahlon Thatcher later described the regiment's time at Miner's Hill as a happy one.
Camp of the 40th Massachusetts Infantry at Miner’s Hill, Virginia in 1862. Mahlon Thatcher later described the regiment’s time at Miner’s Hill as a happy one.

Though Mahlon Thatcher enlisted in late June, 1862, his path to the 40th Massachusetts Infantry was a complicated one. He first enlisted in the 32nd Massachusetts Infantry, was then transferred to the 35th Massachusetts, and then when the captain of his company in the 35th Massachusetts failed to get a commission, he was transferred again to Company B of the 40th Massachusetts Infantry. Fearing that the many transfers might lead to trouble with receiving his pay if something happened to him, Mahlon detailed the sequence in a letter to his wife written around September, 1862.

“Dear Julia, I wrote this to you so if it should be my sad fate to fall in the coming battles, you might know how much was coming to you from the government. I suppose you know that I enlisted and was mustered into the service of the United States on the twenty-sixth day of June, One thousand eight hundred and sixty-two by Captain John M. M. Goodhue, then the mustering-in officer of Boston. I enlisted for the Thirty-second regiment under Lieutenant Nat Wales who was afterwards promoted to Adjutant of the Thirty-fifth Regiment. So if there should be any trouble of getting my money, you can show them this letter. I was transferred to the Thirty-fifth Regiment by the order of Colonel H. Day, the military commandant of Massachusetts and the captain that I was transferred to did not get his commission. I was transferred to the Fortieth under Captain D[aniel] H. Johnson’s Company B.”

In November, 1862, the 40th Massachusetts Infantry was stationed at Miner’s Hill, Virginia, though there were many rumors that they would soon be sent elsewhere. In a letter written November 14, 1862, Mahlon Thatcher revealed his frustration at the politicians in the country and the persistent unfounded rumors.

“But I suppose that by this [time] you have heard that this regiment is going to Texas, but I do not believe it. If you but knew how much we believe or care for the stories that is flying round the camp, you would not be surprised at anything. And as for the movements of the army, we do not care one snap for, for I think that if they that is the men at the head of the government was to go to pandemonium—the council chamber of hell for dictators—they could not get any more damnable spirits of contention between the politicians and the speculators. The country is getting ruined as fast as it is possible for it to do, but I hope the time may come when the country may get right side up and this accursed war may be brought to a close. But Heaven only knows when that may be. Staying out here and moving one day one way and then another day back again has a great effect on the rebels we all think, but that seems to be all that we have all to do now-a-days; that and picketing, drilling, and guarding the camp seems to be the amount total of the good we are doing out here.”

As expected, the 40th Massachusetts Infantry did not go to Texas and remained in Virginia into the summer of 1863. On June 20, 1863 Mahlon Thatcher wrote about the difficult conditions in facing bushwhackers along the road to Richmond.

“As I wrote that we expected to march at any moment, in about an hour after mailing the letter to you the order came to get ready for a march with three days rations and by six o’clock in the afternoon we started. We marched for three hours and then halted for the night. In the morning we started on for a few hundred yards then commenced to throw out pickets and sentries on the road until the whole regiment was doing picket duties on the direct road to Richmond and forces lined the whole road for almost twenty miles in length doing picket duty and watching for bushwhackers and guerrillas and we take some almost every night, not without some cost to ourselves for there is seldom a day passes but some of our men is shot at their post and it is the worst of duties for you cannot see the enemy for they skulk in the bushes and lay still until they get a chance to fire on us in the place that our company is. The road runs right through the woods and it is very dark in the night. We have to guard the road so as to keep it open so our transportation can be kept up when our forces moves on as they say that there is a large force coming through this place for Richmond.”

Mahlan Thatcher in South Carolina

The 40th Massachusetts Infantry was sent to Folly Island, South Carolina in August, 1863. Around that time Mahlon Thatcher became seriously ill with bowel inflammation and was sent to the hospital. Others in the regiment were also sick, and the morale of the regiment was low. On September 20, 1863, he wrote:

“Dear Family, to see the camp of our regiment now, you would think instead of our being the same regiment that was at Miners Hill last winter all full of fun, that we was some body of men now to mourn over the fate of the country as after supper in the evening there is no singing or any fun at all. The men feels that they are all worn out—at least so it seems to me. I must stop now for this time as I am very tired and I must lie down.”

Later in the letter he added more about the condition of the regiment.

“Last evening at about eight o’clock there was another soldier died in our hospital. They are dropping off very fast and if they do not remove this division from this island, I think there may be many more soon go the same road from which no traveler ever returns. The whole truth of the fact is that this division was all worn out before it come to this place. It made all those that was able to do duty sick themselves and now the camps of the whole division looks more like a hospital than the defenders of their country. But so it is and we have to submit and I hope for my part that I will always try to bear the burthen without murmuring at the dispensation of Heaven or finding fault with the Rulers of our Country. May they always rule with wisdom and the fear of the Almighty God in their hearts.”

In early 1864, the 40th Massachusetts Infantry moved down to Jacksonville, Florida, and fought at the Battle of Olustee. Mahlon Thatcher detailed the fighting in a letter  home and revealed that he was promoted to corporal for his good conduct during the fighting.

“My health is first rate and spirits is good although we have been in four fights since we arrived in the State of Florida. Three of them we was victorious and the last was a drawing battle—or in other words, we got the worst of the fight as we had to have all of our dead unburied.

The fight commenced at about two o’clock in the afternoon and lasted until dark, Then we fell back though in good order. Our side lost 1500 in killed and wounded and missing. Our loss was very severe for we had not over four thousand men with us and some of them was black soldiers. But the enemy had fifteen thousand men and we held them [in] check some five hours. O, I hope never to see so hard a fight for us. Out of a fight that I was in of four men, two was shot and the sergeant’s horse was shot under him right at my side so I may say that within five feet of my place in the ranks, two men and three horses was shot down. And through the divine mercy of Providence, I escaped unhurt and it was not for any safer place or any skedaddling, for I have just been promoted for my good conduct on the field of battle.”

Return to Virginia

Illustration of the Battle of Cold Harbor based on a sketch by Edwin Forbes.
Illustration of the Battle of Cold Harbor based on a sketch by Edwin Forbes via Wikimedia Commons.

In spring 1864, the 40th Massachusetts returned to Virginia. On May 7, 1864, Mahlon Thatcher wrote from outside of Petersburg.

“We have been to West Point since I wrote my last to you but now we are here way up the James River on the Petersburg side and almost twenty miles from Richmond with quite a force and I do not know the moment the order may come to go into battle as the enemy is close to us and some think that they have left Petersburg but I don’t believe it as that place is said to be very strongly fortified and I think that they will make a stand there and we will have to whip them out of the place before they will leave. But they must give way this time as we are bound to drive all before us this time and Richmond must come down. If Jeff Davis gets out of this, he will have to run for it, I think. The heavy guns is making a great noise in our front as I am writing and the rattle of small arms is very plain and that a great battle may be very soon.”

On May 18, 1864, Mahlon Thatcher wrote another letter, this time after surviving a serious battle.

“Thank the Almighty God and the blessed and his Holy Mother, I am still able to write to you and I have not been hurt in the least but how I was brought safe, God only knows for the shot rained very thick and we have for eight days & nights the dreadful fire has been kept up and our little regiment has done its duty manfully all the time. God bless her. Yesterday was the worst of any time and our loss was very severe but still we meet them as only brave men can and for some time our small regiment held the whole center of the line at defiance and we was praised by both of the corps and department generals in command and they say when this regiment has to fall back, it will be when they are ordered or that they are all dead.

Dear family, I cannot write much as I am very much worn out by exposure and fatigue.”

Sadly, Mahlon Thatcher’s good fortune didn’t last. On June 5, 1864 he wrote from White House Landing and revealed that he had been seriously wounded at the Battle of Cold Harbor.

“Through the blessing of the Almighty God and his blessed Mother, I still am amongst the living but I am very severely wounded. The ball hit me in my breast and passed through my body and out my back making a hole right through me but I am a good deal better than anyone could suppose me to be. I was wounded at Gaines Hill [Mill] or Coal [Cold] Harbor—I do not know which it is called—on Wednesday night about 7 o’clock. I do not know where I will be sent to but I hope it may be to Boston sometime soon.

Dear family, you may think that I am dangerously wounded but I hope that the danger is over now and I may get well again as soon as possible. You must keep up good courage and all will be for the best. Our men fell very fast as we charged right in the face of the rebel rifle pits and the fire was dreadful. I fell on the second charge that we made, facing the enemy as I always said I would if I was hit at all. I can’t write no more now.”

Mahlon Thatcher was later moved to Knights Hospital in New Haven, Connecticut, where he penned a letter on June 29, 1864.

“I now address a few lines to you to let you know how I am getting along. My wound is about the same as when I last wrote but the diarrhea is not any better. I am troubled bad with it but I am in hopes that in a few days it will be better so that I can get a furlough and go home. But it will be some few days before I shall be strong enough to travel. I do not sit up now but hope to be so as to sit up in a few days. You had better not come to see me—not by any means. I will write again in a few days.”

Mahlon Thatcher died of his wounds at Knight Hospital on July 14, 1864. His wife, Julia lived until 1894 and never remarried.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for his work in transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Mahlon Thatcher’s letters as well as access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like William Augur of the 7th Connecticut Infantry and Martin Culver of the 16th Connecticut Infantry.

 

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 77: William Augur 7th Connecticut Infantry

William Augur was born in 1836 to Horace and Catharine (Hanson) Augur of New Haven County, Connecticut. Before the war he worked as an architect in New Haven. He enlisted in Company C of the 7th Connecticut Infantry in September, 1861. Most of his letters in this collection were addressed to his sweetheart, Addie C. Phelps.

The 7th Connecticut Infantry in South Carolina

Front and Back of CDV of William Augur of the 7th Connecticut Infantry. The back contains the inscription, “To A.”
Front and Back of CDV of William Augur of the 7th Connecticut Infantry. The back contains the inscription, “To A.”

William Augur’s first letter in this collection was written June 10, 1862 from James Island, South Carolina. The letter is actually a series of diary-like entries recounting his activities each day from June 3 through June 10. He recounted a minor skirmish he was in on June 7.

“Saturday [June 7th]—I have got so used to this life that I slept all night in spite of a shower we had and feeling first rate today although it is raining. About four P. M., our regiment with a company of cavalry started off after the enemy and such a road we traveled I never saw before—mud ankle deep or more and very slippery and obliged to walk in single file part of the way. We drove in their pickets and had a little skirmish with a part of their force. About four thousand being just ahead of us. After we found out their position, we fell back (only one of our men wounded) and reached camp about ten in a drenching rain, built fires, dried ourselves what little we could and lay down to sleep. How delightful.”

His entry  for June 8, described more fighting, this time involving the 46th New York Infantry.

“Sunday [June 8th]—Cloudy this morn but no rain yet. The 46th New York and some other regiments have gone out skirmishing. Commenced raining again before noon. Firing on our left where we went yesterday. Gun Boats throwing shells into the woods. Our regiment & others formed in line ready to march. One corporal and three men of the secesh picket brought in prisoners. Six of our companies have gone out on picket. Firing ceased. 46th [New York] returned with two killed and ten wounded. They went where we did yesterday. Our tents have arrived and we have put them up. They seem a luxury after being out in the rain so long. How little things seemed like the Sabbath. I hope we shall not be obliged to spend many more in such a way.”

William Augur on Recruitment Duty

When William Augur wrote to Addie on January 22, 1863, his letter was datelined not from the south but from New Haven, Connecticut. He was in Connecticut on recruiting duty, but had the good fortune to see many of the men from 7th Connecticut Infantry who were on furlough after reenlisting, something William Augur declined to do.

“Wednesday I came down here as the 7th [Connecticut Vols.] were expected home. They arrived here about three and had a grand reception. About three hundred and fifty have reenlisted and they are all looking finely. Forty-four of my company are here, and I am afraid I shall be quite lonesome down south until they return for they comprise the best part of the company—those left behind being mostly recruits.

If I had been with them and had not loved Addie, I should have reenlisted; as it is, I am afraid I should have been strongly tempted. You need however have no fears now of my reenlisting, for I do not think my health would allow me to if I wished.”

On February 10, 1863, William Augur wrote to Addie that he expected to stay in Connecticut at least a couple months longer.

“I have not yet heard anything further in regard to returning to the Sunny South and it now looks as though we might stay here two or three months longer, but you must be prepared to hear of my departure anytime. I think of going to New Haven next Saturday and return Monday, if my work will allow me to. If I go, I shall miss seeing you very much. I wish you lived near enough so I could come and spend the Sabbaths with you, and I think I should then be very contented with my position here. Have patience, William. God is good.”

Recruitment duty proved to require a great deal of work for William Augur, and a month later on March 5, 1863, he wrote about some of his recent duties.

“I finished the muster and pay rolls and sent them off last night so that is one good job done. Muster day does not come only one in two months; that is some consolation. Since then I have been busy preparing for Gen. Wool’s reception and this afternoon we all had to turn out with knapsacks and all the other articles necessary to torment a poor soldier, and go through with a review and drill of about three hours. It is six months within a few days since I have carried a knapsack, gun, &c. and just at present I feel lame, tired, and wish various wishes, among the rest that I was my own master once more. My hand trembles so from the effects of carrying that old, twenty-pound gun (I should judge) that I can hardly write. I hope the General will not make us another call while I am here.

Eighteen months of the term of my enlistment expires tonight, so I have something to rejoice over, having arrived at the half way house, and I feel about the same as I did the first day I marched with a knapsack on. I wonder where another eighteen months will find me. I hope in a pleasant home with you my love. God is good and doth all things well.”

William Augur stayed in touch with members of his regiment and in April he shared news that he received from Sergeant Edwin J. Merriam of his company.

“I see by the papers that the attack on Charleston has commenced and I hope it will be successful this time. The land forces have taken the same road we did. I received a letter from Sgt. Merriam last night and it says they are enjoying themselves nicely, having good quarters, plenty to eat, &c. They have an opportunity to enjoy a sail occasionally and I guess they enjoy themselves well enough without me. Don’t you think so?”

At this time the 7th Connecticut Infantry was part of the 10th Corps fighting in the Department of the South.

Despite thinking in the spring that his time on recruitment duty would only last a few more months, William Augur was still working for the recruiting service in December, 1863. By this time he only had nine months left of his three-year term and the time remaining as well as the end of year had him reflecting on his duty and choices.

“For my country I am willing to give up all, and I despise anyone who is not willing to do their share of our country’s work. I should have always been ashamed of myself if I had not obeyed my country’s call, and I know you too well to think you do not love me now for it. Nine more months seem long to wait but how short that would seem to those who have parted with loved ones as dear, and are waiting for a reunion that will not come this side of the grave. Forgive me, dearest, if I have said aught to give you pain.”

William Augur at Olustee

Photo of Addie C. (Phelps) Augur. She and William Augur married one month after the expiration of his term of service.
Photo of Addie C. (Phelps) Augur. She and William Augur married one month after the expiration of his term of service.

In early 1864, William Augur finally left recruiting duty and returned to his regiment. On February 23, 1864 he wrote a brief letter to his father informing him that he had been involved in the recent Battle of Olustee but was unharmed.

“I arrived at the Head [Hilton Head, S. C.] on the 4th and on the 5th we started on an expedition to Florida, landed on the 8th, and since then have been on the move, having marched almost two hundred miles.

We marched about thirty-five miles and fought a four hours long battle [Battle of Olustee] in twenty hours. I came out all safe, although our regiment lost heavily. We are now just out of Jacksonville, but expect to move soon so I have no time to write at present but will as soon as we get a little settled.”

On April 3, 1864, William Augur again wrote to his parents, this time from Jacksonville, Florida. He described Confederate use of “torpedoes” to destroy Union ships.

“About two weeks ago our men picked up two torpedoes down the river which the rebels placed there with the best of wishes for their success probably, but were disappointed. Friday morning, however, they had better success and exploded one under one of our transports (about twelve miles above here) which injured her so badly that she sank in about five minutes, and took down four men with her. The next day three companies of the 7th [Connecticut Vols.] were detailed for boat service on the river, and are now patrolling it to see that another such incident does not occur.

Yesterday they sent in several deserters which they picked up and today they sent in ten more. Hardly a day passes with out some coming in, and a sorry-looking set they are as each one dresses as he best can, and their clothes are of a dirty color when now, so you can imagine how they would look when almost worn out. Hardly any two of them have on hats alike, and most of them look as though they required something to lean against to keep them from falling.”

In the same letter he also included a general order sent out by Brigadier General Truman Seymour praising the conduct of Union forces during the Battle of Olustee.

“The Brigadier-General Commanding recurs with great satisfaction to the conduct of his troops in their late battle, and desires to convey to them in the most public manner, his full appreciation of their steadfast courage on that well contested field.

Against superior numbers, holding a position chosen by themselves, you were all but successful. For four hours you stood face to face with the enemy and when the battle ended—and it ceased only with night—you sent him cheers of defiance.

In your repulse there was perhaps misfortune, but neither disaster nor disgrace; and every officer and soldier may forever remember with just pride that he fought at Olustee.”

William Augur mustered out of the 7th Connecticut Infantry at the expiration of his term in September 1864. Just one month after his discharge he married his sweetheart, Addie C. Phelps. He died in 1903.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for his work in transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of William Augur’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Martin Culver of the 16th Connecticut Infantry and Joseph Philp of the 161st New York Infantry.

 

 

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 76: Martin Culver 16th Connecticut Infantry

Martin Culver was born in 1833 to Martin Culver and Lucy P. (Bailey) Culver of Portland, Connecticut. He enlisted in company A of the 16th Connecticut Infantry in 1862. The letters in the Research Arsenal collection were all written to his sister, Harriet “Hattie” Culver.

Martin Culver in 1862

Monument to the 16th Connecticut Infantry at Antietam via Stonesentinels.com
Monument to the 16th Connecticut Infantry at Antietam via Stonesentinels.com

Martin Culver’s letters begin on September 10, 1862, when the 16th Connecticut Infantry was at Pleasant Valley, Maryland. Humorously, he found himself greatly annoyed at the large number of bands around him. Regimental bands had been ordered to disband by General McClellan on August 9, 1862, but evidently still remained active a month later when Martin Culver wrote his letter.

“I should like to be out of the hearing of music for one day and see if I could not hear myself think. We have got about 50 bands of different kinds all around us and they are a thrashing all the time. But that is not all. There has been heavy firing on our right center all this forenoon in the direction of Harper’s Ferry. I have not found out what forces have been engaged but I think it is part of Maeclenans [McClellan’s]. We are very strong here. We don’t know as we have got to move at present. I think that we shall not stay here much longer in this place but we may. You can’t find out anything here.”

Only a few days after this letter was written, the 16th Connecticut Infantry fought at the Battle of Antietam (Sharpsburg) where they faced devastating losses with nearly a quarter of the men killed or wounded. Martin Culver alluded to the many casualties of the battle in an undated letter believed to have been written sometime in early October, 1862, citing the many recent promotions in the regiment, including their Colonel, Frank Beach, acting as brigadier general.

“We are in Burnside’s 9th Army Corps under Brig. General [Isaac P.] Rodman. He was wounded in the Battle of Sharpsburg and our Colonel [Frank] Beach takes his place for awhile. There has been a good many promotions in the regiment since the battle and there is to be some more. There is no news to write here now as I know of.”

The 16th Connecticut Infantry moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia, and on November 27, 1862, Martin Culver wrote his sister about how he spent his first Thanksgiving in the army.

“Being that this is Thanksgiving and that I was on guard last night rather I don’t have much to do today, I thought that I would write you a few lines to let you know that I am well. I have got most over my cold and if I can keep from getting more, I shall get along.”

Later in the letter, he gave a brief description of their rather lackluster Thanksgiving Day meal.

“For our Thanksgiving out her we have got for supper some salt horse and hard tack and coffee but we have not got anything to make it sweet with so that will have to be our supper for this time. But I hope that this the last one that I shall see out here.”

The 16th Connecticut Infantry in Virginia

The 16th Connecticut Infantry fought at the Battle of Fredericksburg and was still stationed in the vicinity into January, 1863. While making no reference to the fighting the previous month, Martin Culver assured Hattie that he was well and only wished for some tobacco to block out the smell when cleaning the camp.

“We have lived very well now for a few days for there was a man from Hartford that brought on boxes and the boys that I tent with had 2. We had chicken pie and roast beef. The Express company brings them through now. We have got a very good tent in dry weather but it rains almost as much as if we had no tent. It rains here today. It rained here all night last night. I had to get up and put our rubber blankets on to keep from floating off. We have got a fire place and chimney so we keep warm. It is not very cold here. The wind is blowing hard from the south.

The 8th got paid off yesterday. They say that we shall get another 2 months pay Saturday. If we do, I shall send some home and I want you to write and let me know as soon as you get it. I wrote to Jon to see if the Express would take a box and if they would, to get some money at home and get some things that I sent for — some tobacco of both kinds, smoking and chewing, for it good to keep off the smell when we have to clean up the camp.”

In March, 1863, the regiment moved to Suffolk, Virginia, a locale Martin Culver was less than impressed with, as he revealed in his letter written March 18, 1863.

“We are close to the city — if you may call it a city. But the rest of the country I have not had time to look at only it is all woods as far as I can see. We are about 20 miles from the Black Water. We came on with the wagon train and had to march 20 miles. We came to Portsmouth on the boat. Wednesday noon we started on the march. We came on 12 miles, put up to a farm house for the night and this morning came on to the regiment. 12 miles of our march was through a swamp so that we could not see our way out. I do not know what the movement is without we are to strengthen the force here.”

The 16th Connecticut Infantry stayed in Virginia into the summer, later relocating to Portsmouth, Virginia. On July 28, 1863, Martin Culver wrote about a difficult march the regiment made on the 4th of July an how he was surviving the scalding summer heat.

“I don’t know whether we had been on our raid or not when I wrote to you before. If we had not, I will give you a description of it next time I write.

Our 4th of July was on a hard march and with the thermometer about 120. I never suffered so much in the 3 weeks that we were away from the camp.

I have not been out of my tent hardly for this week. I have got 3 or 4 of Job’s comforters [boils] on me and I have to keep pretty still. I managed to get to the river and get some oysters yesterday and some crab — they are like lobsters, and some of them most as large.”

The 16th Connecticut Infantry in North Carolina

Photo of Andersonville Prison, Georgia taken on August 17, 1864 during the time Martin Culver and many other men of the 16th Connecticut Infantry were incarcerated there.
Photo of Andersonville Prison, Georgia taken on August 17, 1864 during the time Martin Culver and many other men of the 16th Connecticut Infantry were incarcerated there.

On September 14, 1863, Martin Culver wrote his first letter from North Carolina. While he thought little of the size of Suffolk, Virginia, his opinion of South Mills, North Carolina was even worse.

“5 companies of the regiment came here last week Wednesday. We are to stay 3 or 4 weeks. We are on picket and have to look out for bushwackers. It is about 30 miles from our old camp. We are in Camden County on the Dismal Swamp Canal. You think that it is lonesome out our way at home but this is the most God forsaken country that I ever saw. It is all swamp and pine woods for hundreds of miles. There are all kinds of animals here — coons, wildcats, snakes, what we call at home red eyes. We don’t get a mail without some of our men come down and I shall be glad when we get out of it.

We have but 96 men — half of the regiment that are reported for duty. We have had two thunder showers. You don’t get any of the kind North.”

The 16th Connecticut returned to Portsmouth, Virginia a few weeks later. In 1864, the regiment returned to North Carolina for a much longer stay.

On March 18, 1864, Martin Culver wrote from New Bern, North Carolina, and revealed a rather unusual souvenir he had obtained for his sister.

“I have got a piece of wood from the gunboat Underwriter that was boarded and taken by the rebels here in the river about 4 weeks ago. They tried to get away with her but she was fired into from our fort, blown up and burnt. She is now close by the shore at low water. I suppose you have seen the account of it in the paper. I have made a cross of it and if you get it, I want you to keep it.”

A month after this letter was written, the 16th Connecticut Infantry was on duty as part of the garrison of Plymouth, North Carolina, when it fell under overwhelming attack by Confederate forces under General Robert F. Hoke. The garrison surrendered on April 20, 1864 and much of the 16th Connecticut Infantry was then imprisoned at Andersonville. Martin Culver survived his imprisonment and was paroled on November 30, 1864. On May 7, 1865, wrote one final letter from New Bern, North Carolina.

“I received your letter the 2nd of the month but have been busy till today. I am at work in the carpenter shop now. There is not much to do here. The boys are on guard at the depot and have to go on the cars and boat to Fort Monroe, Washington, and other places to guard prisoners and other things. Civil law commences here the 16th of the month and then I suppose that we shall have to leave and I think that it will be for home when we do start.”

Martin Culver died on April 19, 1907 in Portland Connecticut.

We’d like to give a special thanks to William Griffing of Spared & Shared for his work in transcribing and sharing these letters.

To read more of Martin Culver’s letters and access thousands of other Civil War letters and documents, sign up for a Research Arsenal membership.

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Joseph Philp of the 161st New York Infantry and Alfred McClay of the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry.

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