Author: Johanna Wickman

RG 94 Spotlight: 1st Wisconsin Cavalry

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

The 1st Wisconsin Cavalry Regiment During the Civil War

Captain Edward D. Town of Co. B, 1st Wisconsin Cavalry
Captain Edward D. Town of Co. B, 1st Wisconsin Cavalry. Captain Town was breveted major and lieutenant colonel with the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry. Before the war, he was part of the gold rush to Pike’s Peak in Colorado. After the war, he worked building railroad lines through Indian territory in the west, then spent ten years working at the pension bureau in Washington, and was working as a prison officer in Waupun, WI at the time of his death. He was the last surviving officer of the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry when he died in 1928.  Photo: https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/211723

The Research Arsenal is proud to be digitizing and adding historical records of Civil War regiments held at the National Archives to our online database so that researchers and historians can access material that previously required a trip to Washington D.C. The 1st Wisconsin Cavalry is one of the many regiments that has been added to our database.

The 1st Wisconsin Cavalry Regiment served throughout the Civil War, participating in campaigns across the Western Theater and eventually becoming part of the Union cavalry forces operating in the final months of the conflict. From its early days of organization in Wisconsin to its operations in Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia, and the pursuit of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, the regiment experienced a remarkable range of military service.

The experiences of its soldiers were not limited to battlefield engagements. Letters home reveal the frustrations, rivalries, uncertainties, and everyday complications of military life. One particularly entertaining account comes from Private Ira Adams, who wrote to his friend Lizzie Barnes in March 1862 while confined to the regimental guardhouse. His letter offers a glimpse into the personalities and internal disagreements that could make life in a Civil War regiment almost as complicated as life on the battlefield.

Organization and Early Service

The organization of the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry began in the summer of 1861, when Wisconsin received authorization to raise a cavalry regiment. Initially, the state was authorized to recruit four companies, but that number was increased first to six companies and eventually to a full regiment of twelve companies.

Recruiting and organization initially took place at Camp Fremont in Ripon, Wisconsin. On November 22, 1861, the rendezvous was moved to Camp Harvey in Kenosha, where the regiment completed its organization. The last company was mustered into Federal service on March 8, 1862, and the regiment departed Wisconsin on March 17, bound for St. Louis, Missouri, before proceeding to Cape Girardeau.

The regiment’s early service involved considerable movement and the separation of its companies into smaller detachments. From Missouri, companies were sent to various locations in Missouri and Arkansas, where they performed military duties until the spring of 1863.

An interesting glimpse into the regiment’s earliest days comes from a letter written by Ira Adams to his friend Lizzie Barnes on March 12, 1862, while the regiment was still at Camp Harvey. Adams’s letter reveals that the regiment was experiencing some internal disagreements even before leaving Wisconsin. He explained that Governor Harvey had declared the previous company officer elections void and ordered a new election. Adams, who had been seeking a majority position, lost the election, which he attributed to a “combined force of office seekers.”

His troubles did not end there. With the regiment preparing to leave, Adams wanted to travel to Mill to retrieve some belongings he had left behind. After failing to obtain the necessary pass from the major, he secured permission to go downtown and decided to take the train instead. Unfortunately, a guard had been stationed at the depot to prevent soldiers from deserting. When Adams was seen boarding the train, Captain Eggleston reported him as a deserter. The major immediately sent a telegraph message to the police in Mill, instructing them to arrest Adams, place him in irons, and return him to camp.

Adams, however, had anticipated trouble and was careful when he arrived in Mill. The police eventually reported that the supposed deserter was not on the train, creating considerable excitement back at camp. When Adams returned to camp, he was met by Sergeant Gould and two armed soldiers who had been sent to apprehend him. He surrendered without resistance and was placed under arrest. He described his reception by the major with considerable sarcasm:

“I had not been in the tent long before he came up to me with the dignity of Prince Napoleon and said that he did not meet any deserters in his tent and I will oblige him very much if I would leave.”

The situation deteriorated further when Adams was ordered to the guardhouse for an alleged attempt to escape and insubordination. Fortunately, Colonel Edward Daniels eventually arrived from Washington and issued an order for his release. Adams closed his account by telling Lizzie that he intended to leave the regiment within a few days, possibly enlisting in the regular army for five years to serve in the Colorado Territory. His letter provides a wonderfully personal account of the disagreements and disciplinary problems that could occur within a newly organized regiment, even before its soldiers had experienced combat.

Service in Tennessee and the Battle of Chickamauga

In late May 1863, the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry was transferred to Middle Tennessee, arriving in Nashville on June 14. It was assigned to the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Cumberland, with which it would serve for the remainder of the war. During the summer of 1863, the regiment participated in the Union advance toward Chattanooga, Tennessee. This campaign culminated in the Battle of Chickamauga, fought September 19–20, 1863. At Chickamauga, the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry served on the extreme right of the Union line. The battle resulted in a Confederate victory and forced the Union Army of the Cumberland to withdraw to Chattanooga, where it was subsequently besieged.

Following Chickamauga, the regiment continued operating throughout the region, performing the varied duties expected of cavalry. Its soldiers guarded wagon trains, protected lines of communication, conducted reconnaissance, and frequently encountered Confederate forces. These assignments required constant movement and kept the regiment actively engaged even when it was not participating in a major battle.

The Atlanta Campaign and Operations in Tennessee

When General William T. Sherman began his Atlanta Campaign in May 1864, the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry was assigned to the Cavalry Corps accompanying his army. The campaign lasted from May through September 1864, as Union forces pushed southward through Georgia toward Atlanta. Cavalry regiments played an important role in these operations, scouting enemy positions, protecting supply lines, screening the movements of infantry, and disrupting Confederate communications.

The 1st Wisconsin participated in the campaign and was almost constantly on the move. Its service included operations associated with Rocky Face Ridge, Resaca, and New Hope Church. The campaign came at considerable cost to the regiment’s leadership. Lieutenant Colonel William H. Torrey, who had served as an acting commander, was killed while commanding the brigade near Atlanta on July 30, 1864. Major Nathan Paine, who had also served as acting commander, had been killed just two days earlier, on July 28.

Colonel Oscar H. La Grange commanded the regiment for much of this period, although he spent considerable time commanding the brigade. Lieutenant Colonel Henry Harnden eventually assumed acting command of the regiment in October 1864. Following the surrender of Atlanta, the 1st Wisconsin accompanied Union forces sent in pursuit of Confederate General John Bell Hood, whose army had moved into Middle Tennessee.

The regiment participated in operations against Hood’s forces, which culminated in the Confederate defeats at Franklin on November 30 and Nashville on December 15–16, 1864. Following the Battle of Nashville, the remnants of Hood’s army retreated southward, pursued by Union cavalry under Major General James H. Wilson. The 1st Wisconsin continued its operations in pursuit of the retreating Confederates, pushing into Alabama.

Wilson’s Raid and the Capture of Jefferson Davis

The final months of the war brought the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry into one of the most famous episodes in its history: the capture of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. In the spring of 1865, Major General James H. Wilson organized a massive cavalry raid through Alabama and Georgia. Beginning on March 11, Wilson’s forces crossed the Tennessee River and advanced into the Deep South. The campaign resulted in the defeat of Confederate cavalry under Nathan Bedford Forrest and the capture of several important Southern cities, including Selma, Montgomery, Columbus, West Point, and Macon.

According to Colonel Henry Harnden’s 1898 account, The Capture of Jefferson Davis; A Narrative of the Part Taken by Wisconsin Troops, the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry played a prominent role in these operations. After Wilson’s forces reached Macon, Georgia, on April 20, 1865, the regiment remained in the area. On the evening of May 6, Harnden received orders to report to headquarters. General J. G. Croxton informed him that Jefferson Davis was believed to be moving through South Carolina toward Georgia, accompanied by members of his cabinet and an escort of several hundred men.

Harnden was selected to lead a detachment of 150 men from the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry in pursuit of Davis. He was instructed to leave immediately without waiting for additional rations. Before departing, Harnden questioned whether 150 men would be sufficient for the mission. He was assured that General Wilson believed the number adequate, particularly because Davis’s escort was reportedly demoralized and poorly equipped.

The detachment left Macon around sunset and began moving toward Savannah. Harnden initially kept the purpose of the expedition secret from his men. After they had marched through the night and reached the vicinity of Dublin, Georgia, he explained their mission and warned them that they might encounter a much larger Confederate force. He later recalled that his men responded with cheers. At Dublin, Harnden began gathering information about Davis’s movements. He initially received little assistance from the local population, but a Black man who approached him during the night provided the crucial information. The man reported that Davis and his party had passed through Dublin earlier that day, crossing the river and traveling south.

Harnden later credited this information with keeping the Wisconsin detachment on the correct trail. Without it, he believed his men might have continued toward Savannah, allowing Davis to escape. The pursuit continued through difficult terrain, dense pine forests, heavy rain, and flooded swamps. Harnden’s men were frequently short of food, and their horses were pushed through exhausting conditions. At one point, they crossed miles of swamp water that rose as high as their saddles.

On May 9, the Wisconsin detachment reached Abbeville, Georgia, where Harnden encountered Lieutenant Colonel Pritchard of the 4th Michigan Cavalry. Pritchard was also searching for Davis, although the two officers were unaware of how close they were to the Confederate party. Harnden shared the information he had gathered, explaining that Davis had crossed the Ocmulgee River and was believed to be heading toward Irwinsville. The two commands then continued their separate movements in pursuit.

Early on the morning of May 10, 1865, Harnden’s advance guard encountered Confederate pickets near Irwinsville. Gunfire erupted, and the Wisconsin soldiers engaged what they believed to be an enemy force. The situation became even more confusing when a second group of mounted men approached. Harnden ordered his men to fire their repeating Spencer carbines, and the opposing force began to fall into confusion.

Just as Harnden was preparing to order a saber charge, Sergeant Horr reported that the soldiers they were fighting were actually members of the 4th Michigan Cavalry. The two Union detachments had mistaken one another for Confederates in the darkness. The unfortunate encounter resulted in the deaths of two Michigan soldiers, along with several wounded men. Three Wisconsin soldiers were wounded, but none were killed.

After the firing stopped, Harnden and Pritchard rode together into the Confederate camp, which was located only a short distance away. There they encountered John H. Reagan, the former Confederate Postmaster General, who informed them that Jefferson Davis had finally been captured. Harnden asked Reagan to identify Davis. Pointing toward a tall, elderly gentleman nearby, Reagan indicated that he was the former Confederate president. Harnden approached and asked whether the man was Mr. Davis. The response was direct: “Yes,” he replied, “I am President Davis.” The capture had been accomplished.

The capture, however, was not without controversy. Harnden’s account describes the confusion surrounding the competing claims of the Wisconsin and Michigan cavalrymen. Initially, the $100,000 reward offered for Davis’s capture was awarded to the 4th Michigan Cavalry. This decision was challenged because most of that regiment had been approximately twenty-five miles away when the capture occurred.

Congress eventually appointed a committee to investigate the matter. The committee reversed the original award, deciding that the men actually present from both regiments should share the reward according to their respective rank and pay. Harnden emphasized that the Wisconsin soldiers had played an essential role in locating and pursuing Davis, while the Michigan soldiers had also participated in the final encounter.

Harnden’s narrative provides a particularly interesting firsthand perspective on the expedition, including the difficult conditions endured by the men. He praised their conduct throughout the seven-day pursuit, noting that they marched through heat and blinding rain, often with almost nothing to eat and very little rest. Despite their exhaustion and the possibility of encountering a much larger enemy force, he recalled that the men never complained.

He concluded his tribute by writing:

“Their only thought was, it is duty.”

The capture of Jefferson Davis was one of the final notable episodes of the Civil War, and the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry’s participation ensured that the regiment would have a place in the story of the Confederacy’s collapse.

The End of the War and Muster Out

Following the capture of Davis, the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry was transferred to Nashville, Tennessee, where it remained until being mustered out of Federal service on July 19, 1865. The regiment subsequently returned to Madison, Wisconsin, where it was disbanded. During its service, the regiment had recruited an initial 1,124 officers and enlisted men. An additional 1,417 men were recruited as replacements, bringing the total number of men who served in the regiment to 2,541. The cost of that service was considerable. Six officers and 67 enlisted men were killed or mortally wounded, while another seven officers and 321 enlisted men died from disease. In total, the regiment lost 401 men during the war.

The regiment also left behind a notable piece of its history in the form of its guidon. According to the Wisconsin Veterans Museum, the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry’s guidon was the first flag raised over the Confederate Capitol building in Montgomery, Alabama, on April 12, 1865. The museum attributes the raising of the guidon to Captain Stephen V. Shipman, based on information preserved by a descendant who had access to his diary.

1st Wisconson Cavalry guidon
Guidon, 1st Wisconsin Cavalry, 1862-65 This guidon was first over Confederate Capitol Building in Montgomery, Alabama on April 12, 1865. According to a descendent with access to his diary, the guidon was raised by Captain Stephen V. Shipman of the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry. Flag Description Thirteen horizontal alternating red and white silk stripes with dark blue silk canton, 14″ on the staff by 14″ on the fly, containing 35 gold painted, 5 pointed stars arranged in vertical ellipses, 12 stars on the inner ellipse, 19 stars on the outer ellipse and one star in each corner of the field. Wind damage to swallowtails. Photo: https://wisvetsmuseum.com/1st-wisconsin-cavalry/

From its organization at Camp Harvey to its service in the major campaigns of the Western Theater and its participation in the pursuit of Jefferson Davis, the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry experienced nearly every aspect of the Union Army’s war in the West. Its soldiers endured long marches, difficult campaigns, disease, and the loss of comrades, ultimately serving until the final months of the conflict. The regiment’s history is also preserved through the individual experiences of its soldiers. Ira Adams’s amusing but revealing letter from the guardhouse in 1862 and Henry Harnden’s account of the pursuit of Jefferson Davis in 1865 illustrate just how much could change over the course of four years of military service.

Sources

The Research Arsenal is proud to hold 1,019 digital scans of the 1st Wisconsin’s regimental history on its database. These mostly consist of 995 pages of material from the National Archives Records Group 94 files. This comprises Descriptive books, Descriptive books by Companies, Regimental Letter & Order book, Morning Reports, and Order books. Visit the Research Arsenal, click on “Search NARA Records” then select “RG94” and “1st Wisconsin Cavalry” from the drop-down menus. In addition, the Research Arsenal contains letters, and other forms and documents relating to the 1st Wisconsin Cavalry.

  1. 1st Wisconsin Cavalry Regiment – Wikipedia
  2. 1st Wisconsin Cavalry – Wisconsin Veterans Museum
  3. Adams, Ira. Letter to Lizzie Barnes, March 12, 1862. 1st Wisconsin Cavalry, Camp Harvey, Kenosha, Wisconsin. Research Arsenal
  4. Harnden, Henry. The Capture of Jefferson Davis; A Narrative of the Part Taken by Wisconsin Troops. Madison, Wisconsin: Tracy, Gibbs & Co., Printers, 1898. Internet Archive

 

RG 94 Spotlight: 83rd Ohio Infantry

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

The 83rd Ohio Infantry: The Greyhound Regiment

The Research Arsenal is proud to be digitizing and adding historical records of Civil War regiments held at the National Archives to our online database so that researchers and historians can access material that previously required a trip to Washington D.C. The 83rd Ohio Infantry is one of the many regiments that has been added to our database.

Organized at Camp Dennison, near Cincinnati, Ohio, in August 1862, the 83rd Ohio Volunteer Infantry entered Federal service at a time when the Union was struggling to maintain its military momentum. Commanded by Colonel Frederick W. Moore, the regiment was mustered for three years of service and would eventually participate in some of the most important campaigns in the Western Theater, including the capture of Arkansas Post, the Vicksburg Campaign, the Red River Campaign, and the operations against Mobile, Alabama. Known as the “Greyhound Regiment,” the 83rd Ohio developed a reputation for marching ability and endurance that its members carried with pride throughout the war.

Organization and Early Service

The regiment began its military career at Camp Dennison, where its companies were assembled and organized. Its initial service came closer to home than many of its members might have anticipated. On September 3, 1862, the 83rd moved into Kentucky in response to Confederate General Edmund Kirby Smith’s threatened advance toward Cincinnati. The regiment participated in the defense of the city and subsequently undertook expeditions through Kentucky, including a movement to Cynthiana on September 18.

It was during its Kentucky service that the regiment acquired the nickname that would follow it throughout the war. During one march, the 83rd reportedly outpaced the other regiments in its brigade, leaving them behind despite carrying full marching equipment. The nickname “Greyhounds” was initially bestowed without much affection, but the men eventually embraced it. The name became a source of regimental pride and was later commemorated on the regiment’s monument at Vicksburg.

In October 1862, the regiment received a new set of regimental colors, purchased by the Cincinnati, Hamilton, and Dayton Railroad Company. These colors would soon become an important part of the regiment’s history. After moving to Louisville, the 83rd departed for Memphis, Tennessee, arriving on November 23, 1862. Its service was now taking it into the heart of the Mississippi River campaign, where General William T. Sherman was preparing an expedition against the Confederate defenses protecting Vicksburg.

Chickasaw Bayou: The Regiment’s First Taste of War

83rd Ohio Infantry 1st Sgt T.B. Marshall Company K
Post-war portrait of First Sergeant T.B. Marshall of the 83rd Ohio Infantry, Company K. Marshall published a colorful and engaging history of the 83rd Ohio Infantry in 1912, which is featured prominently in this blog post.

In December 1862, the 83rd Ohio joined Sherman’s Yazoo Expedition, an attempt to approach Vicksburg from the north and attack the Confederate defenses along the Mississippi River. The regiment participated in the operations around Chickasaw Bayou from December 26 through 31. The experience proved to be a difficult introduction to combat. The men faced Confederate defenses situated on commanding ground, with difficult terrain and waterlogged approaches making an advance particularly hazardous. T.B. Marshall’s regimental history recalled the miserable conditions:

“This Chickasaw Bayou expedition was the first taste of real war which we had experienced, and it was a very bitter one. It seemed to rain nearly all the time, and there was not a spot of dry ground to lie on. We were not allowed to build fires, as the smoke would betray our position.”

The men improvised small fires, sometimes no larger than a tin cup, in order to make coffee. The combination of rain, mud, exposure, and enemy fire made the expedition a miserable experience. The Confederate defenses proved too strong, and Sherman’s forces withdrew without accomplishing their objective. The defeat was particularly discouraging because the men had expected to find the Confederate defenses weakened by Grant’s operations elsewhere. Instead, they encountered a well-prepared enemy. The 83rd had experienced its first major engagement, and it would not have long to wait before being tested again.

Arkansas Post: A Break in the Clouds of Gloom

Following the withdrawal from Chickasaw Bayou, the 83rd Ohio embarked on another expedition, this time toward Arkansas Post and Fort Hindman. The movement began in early January 1863, with the regiment traveling aboard steamers through the waterways leading to the Arkansas River. The journey itself was an adventure. Fuel for the steamers was scarce, and soldiers were required to gather wood along the riverbanks to keep the boats moving. Marshall remembered the grim reminders of the war they encountered during this work:

“It was not always wood that demanded our care, for sometimes when we steamed away a mound or two of fresh earth was seen, silent witnesses of grief in some home.”

By January 11, the Federal forces had reached Fort Hindman, a Confederate stronghold on the Arkansas River. The attack initially met with resistance, and the 83rd Ohio found itself involved in some of the heaviest fighting of its young military career. During the afternoon assault, the regiment advanced against the Confederate position alongside the other units of its brigade. An initial repulse forced the Federal troops to fall back and reorganize. Orderly Sergeant Thomas B. Marshall later described the scene:

“There was no panic, nobody was scared, all wondering why we fell back.”

General A.J. Smith and his staff rode among the troops, attempting to restore order and prepare them for another advance. Marshall remembered Smith’s colorful language, observing that “for artistic and effective profanity, General A.J. Smith had no superior.”

The regiment reformed and moved forward again. Marshall continued:

“The fort was now in plain sight and the bullets were singing their songs as they flew both ways. We dropped to the ground, loaded, and fired as fast as we could, or when we could see something to shoot at, all the time edging towards the fort.”

The renewed assault succeeded, and Fort Hindman surrendered. The 83rd’s colors, which had been presented only a few months earlier, were badly damaged during the engagement, reportedly shot almost completely to pieces. For Marshall, the victory represented something more than the capture of a Confederate position. Following the discouragement of Chickasaw Bayou and the difficult winter campaign, Arkansas Post provided a much-needed boost to the Union soldiers’ morale. He later described the victory as the “first break in the great cloud of gloom which had settled over the land since the preceding summer.”

Young’s Point and the February 1863 Surgeon Situation

Major S.S L'Hommedieu
Portrait of Major S.S. L’Hommedieu of the 83rd Ohio Infantry who wrote the letter excerpted below complaining about the regiment’s lack of a qualified surgeon. Photo: https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/18082174/stephen_satterly-l’hommedieu/photo

Following the capture of Arkansas Post, the 83rd Ohio moved to Young’s Point, Louisiana, where it remained through much of the winter and early spring of 1863. Conditions in camp were far from comfortable. The regiment was situated in a cotton field near the Mississippi River, where seepage from the river kept the ground perpetually soft. Marshall described the camp as an undesirable location, explaining that while some soldiers managed to obtain boards for their tent floors, most had little protection from the wet ground.

In early February, Major Stephen S. L’Hommedieu wrote at lengthy complaint on the state of the regiment’s medical department:

“At present we have no Surgeon whatever, the Surgeon is on duty at Division Head Qrs and is at present quite sick, the 1st Assistant Surgeon is present with the Regiment but he, also, is too sick to attend to duty and when he is well, he is totaly [sic] worthless, his ignorance of his profession is so manifest that an unprofessional man can detect it. In addition to this he, without actually getting drunk, keeps himself under the effect of liquor and I have every reason to believe, of Opium too, all the time.”

During February, the regiment also participated in expeditions toward Greenville, Mississippi, and Cypress Bend, Arkansas. These operations involved searching for Confederate forces and guerrillas operating along the river. The soldiers encountered difficult terrain, unfamiliar transportation, and occasional skirmishing. One particularly memorable episode involved infantry volunteers being called upon to ride mules alongside the cavalry. The animals were apparently not accustomed to being ridden, and the soldiers struggled to mount them while carrying their weapons. Marshall recalled:

“These mules had never been ridden but after several ineffectual attempts by the volunteers to get on their backs, they finally succeeded. With a gun strapped over the shoulder and no saddle —staying on after mounting was no small matter.” They spent the rest of the day in pursuit of the enemy and attempting to keep up with the cavalry, which was no easy feat. The soldiers struggled to dismount, mount, dismount, and mount their mules again and again, while the cavalry rushed on and left them behind.  At sundown they reached the end of their ride to which Marshall wrote they were “very tired and I may say for the mule riders, very much afflicted.”

Marshall also shared this somewhat humorous story from the same raid:

“Another incident of this raid is related by Wm. H. Davis. We were sent to support the outpost with orders to make no fires. However, we found a house full of chickens, lots of yams, and a big kettle. The temptation was too great, and we soon had a roaring fire and spent the night in boiling chickens, putting the best pieces away and eating wings. When we were done, we had a blaze twenty feet high and it was not our fault we were not all shot.”

The Vicksburg Campaign

In the spring of 1863, the 83rd Ohio joined the operations that would ultimately lead to the capture of Vicksburg. The regiment crossed the Mississippi River with Grant’s forces and participated in the campaign that brought about the surrender of the Confederate stronghold on July 4. Its engagements included Port Gibson on May 1, Champion Hill on May 16, and Big Black River on May 17. The regiment also participated in the assaults against the Vicksburg defenses on May 19 and May 22 before settling into the long siege.

The fighting at Champion Hill was particularly significant. The engagement was one of the decisive battles of Grant’s campaign, and the Confederate defeat forced the Southern army back toward Vicksburg. The 83rd remained involved in the pursuit and subsequent siege operations. Marshall’s history provides details of the hardships of siege warfare, including the construction of defensive earthworks under enemy fire. Soldiers dug trenches and rifle pits, often working in exposed positions while Confederate sharpshooters watched for anyone who raised their heads above the protective earth.

The regimental history describes the limited protection afforded by the first trenches:

“All together from thirty to thirty-six inches was all the protection we had for the night’s work.”

The men continued to deepen and expand their positions, gradually improving their defenses while maintaining constant vigilance against enemy fire. The regiment remained at Vicksburg until the Confederate surrender on July 4, 1863. It subsequently participated in the siege of Jackson, Mississippi, before moving to Louisiana in August.

Louisiana and the Red River Campaign

The 83rd Ohio’s service continued in Louisiana, where it participated in the Teche Campaign and various operations throughout the region. Its duties included marches, guard assignments, and expeditions against Confederate forces. In November 1863, the regiment fought at Grand Coteau, Louisiana. The engagement resulted in casualties and the capture of a number of Union soldiers. Among those taken prisoner were members of the 83rd Ohio, some of whom would face months of captivity.

The following spring brought the regiment into the Red River Campaign, one of the most difficult and controversial operations of the war in the Trans-Mississippi region. Beginning in March 1864, Federal forces advanced into Louisiana with the objective of reaching Shreveport. The 83rd Ohio participated in the movement through the region, encountering difficult roads, swollen waterways, and increasingly challenging conditions. The regiment was involved in the fighting at Sabine Cross Roads on April 8 and the subsequent operations around Pleasant Hill. The Federal defeat at Sabine Cross Roads forced a retreat, and the soldiers endured a difficult withdrawal through the Louisiana countryside.

Marshall’s account describes the challenges of crossing the region’s waterways and the destruction of bridges. At one point, the regiment had to wait for the pioneer corps to construct a pontoon bridge using large wooden floats transported with the army. The Red River Campaign eventually ended without achieving its intended objectives. By May 22, the 83rd Ohio had reached Morganza Bend, bringing the expedition to a close.

Final Campaigns and Muster Out

The regiment continued serving in the Department of the Gulf through the remainder of 1864 and into 1865. Its duties included garrison and guard assignments, as well as participation in the operations against Mobile, Alabama. In April 1865, the 83rd Ohio participated in the campaign against the Confederate defenses at Spanish Fort and Fort Blakely. The capture of these positions helped bring about the fall of Mobile, one of the last major Confederate-held ports on the Gulf Coast.

By this point, the regiment had served in the field for nearly three years. It had experienced repeated campaigns, difficult marches, disease, casualties, and the loss of comrades. Its members had traveled through Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Louisiana, eventually reaching Alabama and Texas. The 83rd Ohio was mustered out of service at Galveston, Texas, on July 24, 1865. The men returned to Camp Dennison, Ohio, where the regiment was formally discharged on August 10, 1865. Veterans and remaining recruits were transferred to the 48th Ohio Infantry Battalion.

Marshall described their return trip to Ohio:

“On reaching Cairo we found a train of cars waiting for us. What? Pullmans, did you say? You must think we were feather-bed soldiers even to hint at such a thing. Pullmans? Yes, box and stock cars with boards nailed across from side to side for seats, and into which we piled, not caring very much, nor thinking of anything better, only so we could get home. Some spread their blankets
on the floor under the seats, others did the same on the roof and managed during the long night to get a little sleep.

Leaving Cairo August 3rd, we reached Cincinnati about midnight of the 5th. As the train moved slowly through the city, first one and then another would drop off, and, trotting along with the train until he could get a good grip on his belongings, would jerk them off and disappear in the darkness. Those of us who lived at a distance remained until we reached the Little Miami Depot where
we were allowed to get the balance of the night’s sleep that was coming to us, from the pavement. It was none too soft, but we were too well used to hard beds to mind a little thing like that.

Then came Camp Dennison, our old barracks, the final muster out and the last pay; then followed the warm, heartfelt hand clasps, and the good-byes were said with wishes for future life and prosperity, and the hopes of often seeing one another. Soon the train was bearing us swiftly away from the spot which had witnessed our first and last experience as soldiers, and as we went we sang with lilting voices:

“Home, home, sweet sweet home; Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like Home.”
And so, into the voiceless past went the labors, the trials, and the memories of the Eighty-Third Ohio Volunteer Infantry.

‘ntion battalion, Shoulder-r-r arms, In two ranks, right-face. Arms port, Break ranks — march. Taps.”

The Legacy of the Greyhound Regiment

The 83rd Ohio Volunteer Infantry had entered service in the summer of 1862 as a newly organized regiment of Ohio volunteers. By the time it returned home in 1865, its members had participated in some of the most important military operations of the Western Theater. Its history was preserved in 1912 through the publication of History of the Eighty-Third Ohio Volunteer Infantry, compiled by First Sergeant Thomas B. Marshall and published by the regiment’s veterans’ association. The book preserved not only the regiment’s movements and engagements but also the recollections of the men who experienced them. Marshall’s narrative is particularly valuable because it captures the everyday realities of military service: the discomfort of wet camps, the exhaustion of long marches, the uncertainty of military operations, and the humor soldiers found even in difficult circumstances.

The regiment’s nickname, the Greyhounds, became a fitting symbol of its service. What began as a reference to its remarkable marching speed became a badge of honor, representing the endurance and determination of the men who served in its ranks. Their story was one of perseverance through some of the most demanding campaigns of the Civil War, and their service remains an important part of Ohio’s military history.

Sources

The Research Arsenal is proud to hold 1,441 digital scans of the 83rd Ohio Infantry’s regimental history on its database. These mostly consist of 1,429 pages of material from the National Archives Records Group 94 files. This comprises Descriptive books, Descriptive books by Companies, Regimental Letter, Order & Guard Report book, Morning Reports, and Order books. Visit the Research Arsenal, click on “Search NARA Records” then select “RG94” and “83rd Ohio Infantry” from the drop-down menus. In addition, the Research Arsenal contains letters, and other forms and documents relating to the 83rd Ohio Infantry.

The following are the sources used in preparing the article:

  1. T. B. Marshall, History of the Eighty-Third Ohio Volunteer Infantry: The Greyhound Regiment (1912). The primary source for the narrative and historical excerpts.
  2. Larry Stevens, 83rd Ohio Infantry – Ohio in the Civil War. Regimental history, bibliography, and service information.
  3. 83rd Ohio Infantry Regiment. Service chronology and campaign information.
  4. Dan Masters, Breaking the Clouds of Gloom: The 83rd Ohio at Arkansas Post (July 26, 2022). Detailed discussion of the regiment’s experience at Arkansas Post, drawing extensively on Marshall’s account.
  5. 83rd Ohio Infantry Regimental Letter, Order, and Guard Report Book, February 11, 1863, p. 15. Research Arsenal.

 

Angry Archivist: Bookmarks and Light Damage

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

Angry Archivist: Bookmarks and Light Damage

It’s been a little while since I’ve done an Angry Archivist post, which is a good thing! That means I haven’t been too angry with what I’ve been finding in our new additions to the Research Arsenal database. But all good things must come to an end. This month we got together and scanned hundreds of pages of new material to add to the database and I found some things that perturbed me enough to make a post about them. As a reminder, I don’t write these to shame anyone, but rather to call attention to practices and bad habits that can lead to harm and even destruction of historic documents.

Bookmarks

Vintage 1970s 1980s acidic paper used as bookmark in historic Civil War book
We found several sheets of this paper used as a bookmark in a Civil War era book. Notice that it says it is “Ivory” however this is clearly a yellow shade now. That is due to the acid content of the paper. That acid will discolor any paper it comes into contact with.

The first upsetting thing we found were bookmarks. I know we all use them, and if you read physical books, it’s practically a necessity. And how often do we use bookmarks and leave them in a book that we never go back to? And the bookmark sits there….and sits there…. for weeks, months, even years? This is what we encountered with some Civil War clothing ledgers. These were not bookmarks from the Civil War era, but some vintage likely 1970s or 1980s notepad sheets being used as bookmarks. No doubt a researcher had gone through the book and marked pages of interest, and then for unknown reasons, left them—for decades.

Here is one of the first newspaper bookmarks we found in this Civil War clothing ledger. You can see more scraps of newspaper further into the book. Our angry archivist was not happy to find these....
Here is one of the first newspaper bookmarks we found in this Civil War clothing ledger. You can see more scraps of newspaper further into the book. Our angry archivist was not happy to find these….

I have to admit I’ve done this myself with modern books I was using for researching when writing my books, and when I give programs, I’ll have passages in a copy of one of my books flagged with Post-it flags so that I can find them easily and read historic quotes to the audience. However, this is not something I have ever done with historic books and is not something that should be done with random scraps of paper. This month we found notepad sheets, and in the past, we’ve found newspaper scraps, and other random bits of paper. None of these paper bookmarks are acid-free and will damage the book if left inside. I would recommend simply writing down page numbers with a notation of why you’re saving it on a separate notepad for easy reference. If you do choose to leave pages marked, please use archival paper so that it does not damage the historic book you’re working with.

Light Damage: Ultra-Violet and Infra-Red

The second thing we found was UV and IR damage. This is something that I have harped on in previous posts. It basically boils down to: Light is bad. That’s it. Light is bad. Keeping historic objects, documents, and photographs in light is damaging. Period. The only way to safely do that is to mitigate the damaging UV and IR light assaulting those items. You can do this with UV light filters, using special lightbulbs, and rotating the items in your collection that are on display. LED light bulbs are quite common now and many believe that simply having LED lights makes them safe for historic documents. This is not the case. While LED lights do not emit damaging UV light rays that the older incandescent bulbs did, lower quality LEDs can emit high amounts of IR light which is just as damaging. If you have your collection in a room on exhibit, make sure you do your research on whether the lightbulbs in that room are archivally safe. Photographs and documents are some of the most sensitive to this type of damage, and that damage is irreversible. What compounds the issue, is that fading and yellowing is done over time, and you may not even notice the damage or color change until the text becomes unreadable (in the example we found this month), or the details in the photograph begin to fade away.

Angry Archivist Civil War document with faded writing from UV and IR damage
Here is an example of what fading does to historic writing. If you’re a collector of Civil War documents you have likely noticed that some ink seems to hold up better than others over time. A factor in that is the ink’s sensitivity to light. This particular ink has dramatically faded and a document in this condition would not be safe to exhibit in any way.

This is why you will see museums rotate items from exhibit. It’s not just to bring out new exhibits, it’s to let the artifacts and documents “rest.” They need a reprieve from constant light. And you will likely notice that most museums do not have windows in their exhibit galleries or collections rooms. Older museums, or museums in buildings not designed to be museums may have windows (historic homes, historic buildings, etc.), but modern museums built in the last few decades typically do not have windows or if they do they are UV filtered and blocked. The reason for this is that sunlight is one of the most damaging things for collections. Something else you may have noticed in some more modern museums is that they are rather dark. This isn’t just to be moody, it’s to protect objects from unnecessary light damage. This is the same reason that many museums do not allow flash photographs.

Be very aware of this if you are displaying your collection in a room with a window. You may have a wonderful archival exhibit case, but if there’s a window shining into that room (it does not have to shine directly on the case—that just accelerates the damage) it is not safe without light mitigation. Check your light bulbs to see if they are archivally safe and what spectrum of light they are emitting and keep the lights off as much as possible.

In summary, please don’t use bookmarks in historic books and please keep your historic documents out of the light. And then I won’t have to get angry.

For more information on light damage and how different types of light bulbs affect your collection, I suggest this blog post: https://conserv.io/blog/best-museum-light-bulbs-to-support-preventive-conservation

RG 94 Spotlight: 130th Illinois Infantry

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

The 130th Illinois Infantry: From Vicksburg to the Red River Campaign

The Research Arsenal is proud to be digitizing and adding historical records of Civil War regiments held at the National Archives to our online database so that researchers and historians can access material that previously required a trip to Washington D.C. The 130th Illinois Infantry is one of the many regiments that has been added to our database.

The 130th Illinois Infantry was one of the many regiments raised in Illinois during the Civil War that entered Federal service in late 1862 and spent much of its existence campaigning in the western theater. Organized at Camp Butler near Springfield, Illinois, the regiment was mustered into service on October 25, 1862, for a three-year term. Its companies were drawn from communities across the state, including Alexander, Bond, Clark, Christian, Coles, Edgar, Monroe, Sangamon, Richland, and Lawrence Counties. From its first months in Memphis through the campaigns at Vicksburg, along the Gulf Coast, and into Texas and Louisiana, the 130th experienced nearly every aspect of a Civil War soldier’s life—including disease, combat, occupation duty, long marches, and ultimately the ordeal of captivity.

The regiment left Camp Butler on November 11, 1862, and arrived at Memphis, Tennessee, six days later. Initially assigned to duty at Fort Pickering, the 130th performed provost duty in Memphis rather than immediately taking the field. For the inexperienced soldiers, however, the period was hardly uneventful. Disease proved particularly deadly. Measles and smallpox swept through the regiment, causing a significant number of deaths before the men had even experienced a major battle. The National Park Service records that the regiment ultimately lost 177 men during its service, including two officers and eighteen enlisted men killed or mortally wounded and another four officers and 153 enlisted men who died from disease.

Vicksburg

130th Illinois Infantry monument located at Vicksburg.
130th Illinois Infantry monument located at Vicksburg. Photo: https://www.nps.gov/vick/learn/historyculture/130th-illinois-infantry.htm

The regiment’s opportunity for active campaigning came in the spring of 1863. On March 27, the 130th left Memphis aboard the steamer J. C. Snow and traveled to Milliken’s Bend, Louisiana, arriving on March 31. There, the regiment became part of the army being assembled for the campaign against Vicksburg. The campaign would carry the Illinois soldiers across the Mississippi River and into some of the hardest fighting of the western theater.

On April 25, the army began its movement toward Bruinsburg. The 130th crossed the Mississippi River on May 1 and marched toward Port Gibson, where it encountered Confederate forces. The regiment’s first combat experience came at the Battle of Port Gibson, where it performed well enough that the Illinois regimental history later remarked that the men “behaved like veterans.” Captain J. R. Johnson of Company H was wounded in the thigh by a shell fragment during the battle.

The campaign continued rapidly. The 130th fought at Champion Hill on May 16 and at Big Black River Bridge on May 17. On May 18, the regiment reached the vicinity of Vicksburg and took part in the investment of the Confederate stronghold. The fighting around Vicksburg was intense and prolonged. On May 22, Captain William H. Colby was killed during an assault, and other members of the regiment were killed or wounded throughout the forty-eight-day siege. When Vicksburg surrendered on July 4, 1863, the men of the 130th had endured weeks of combat, exposure, and constant vigilance.

The surrender did not end the regiment’s campaigning. On July 5, the 130th marched toward Jackson, Mississippi, where Confederate forces had established another fortified position. The Union army besieged Jackson for approximately ten days before Confederate troops withdrew. The 130th then returned toward Vicksburg before being transferred to the Department of the Gulf.

Along the Gulf Coast

The regiment spent part of the remainder of 1863 in Louisiana. It was stationed near New Orleans until October, when it participated in the Western Louisiana Campaign. Moving across Berwick Bay and up Bayou Teche, the regiment eventually reached New Iberia, where it remained on duty with the 99th Illinois while other portions of the army moved farther inland.

This period also brought changes in the regiment’s leadership. Colonel Nathaniel Niles resigned, and Major John B. Reid assumed command. Reid would become one of the most important figures in the regiment’s later history and, ultimately, the field officer who remained with the organization from its formation through its final discharge.

In December, the regiment moved to the Texas coast, spending the winter of 1863–1864 at Decrow’s Point on Matagorda Peninsula. The relatively quiet-sounding assignment concealed the continuing difficulties of campaigning. The men were far from Illinois, far from home, and dependent upon the Army’s complicated system of transportation and supply.

A letter written by Captain John W. Watts of Company I provides an unusually useful glimpse into this less dramatic but essential side of military life.

“We Have Been on the Move Nearly Ever Since”

On February 29, 1864, Watts wrote to the Quartermaster General in Washington regarding the monthly return of camp and garrison equipage for Company I. His subject was not a battle, a heroic charge, or a dramatic encounter with the enemy. Instead, he was attempting to explain why his official records did not properly account for the company’s tents and knapsacks.

Watts explained that the common tents and knapsacks had been issued at Milliken’s Bend on or about April 10, 1863, immediately before the regiment departed for the spring campaign. The problem was that he had never received the invoices necessary to properly account for the equipment. As he explained, “we have been on the move nearly ever since and our Qr. Master has been detached from us.”

That sentence captures something important about the experience of Civil War soldiers that is easy to lose when studying campaigns solely through battle narratives. The 130th Illinois had indeed been almost constantly moving since leaving Milliken’s Bend. In less than a year, its soldiers had traveled from Memphis to Louisiana, crossed the Mississippi, fought their way through Mississippi during the Vicksburg Campaign, participated in the siege of Vicksburg and the movement against Jackson, returned to the Mississippi River, traveled to New Orleans, campaigned through western Louisiana, and then moved to the Texas coast.

Even the regiment’s equipment carried the history of those movements.

Watts explained that he had repeatedly attempted to obtain the necessary invoices but had been unable to do so. He finally took the tents and knapsacks onto his return, with the exception of three tents that had been sent aboard a steamer at Milliken’s Bend. Those tents were subsequently burned at James Plantation, Mississippi, after the vessel was captured or threatened, apparently on the orders of Colonel Owen of the 60th Indiana Volunteers, to prevent the equipment from falling into Confederate hands.

The letter also contains the sort of mundane irregularity that appears frequently in surviving military records. Watts admitted that he was accounting for one more tent than he was officially responsible for, writing, “I can not tell how it came into my possession.” Such a statement may seem insignificant, but it illustrates the difficulties officers faced in maintaining accurate property records while their companies and regiments were constantly moving between camps, transports, battlefields, and temporary posts.

The letter is also significant because Watts was not writing retrospectively. He was dealing with the problem as it existed in February 1864, only weeks before the regiment would embark upon another major campaign. His concern with tents, invoices, and accountability therefore provides a contemporaneous view of the logistical burden carried by officers as the army prepared for further operations.

The Disaster at Mansfield

The 130th Illinois returned to Louisiana in February 1864 and soon became part of the Red River Campaign, a major Union operation intended to advance into the interior of Louisiana and ultimately threaten Confederate control of the region and Texas.

The campaign began in March. The 130th advanced from Franklin toward Alexandria and then continued deeper into Louisiana. On April 8, the regiment encountered Confederate forces at Sabine Cross Roads, also known as the Battle of Mansfield. The battle became one of the most disastrous episodes in the regiment’s history.

The 130th was heavily engaged, and the regiment suffered severe losses. Lieutenant Colonel John B. Reid, commanding the regiment and serving as its only field officer present, was badly wounded when a rifle ball passed through his right lung and body. He was captured and taken to a Confederate hospital. Captain F. D. Phillips was also severely wounded in the knee and later died from his wound, while Captain C. T. Mullen was wounded and died while in Confederate hands.

The regiment itself was nearly destroyed as an effective organization. Most of its men were captured and sent to the Confederate prison camp at Tyler, Texas, where they remained prisoners for approximately thirteen months. Only a small number of men escaped capture and continued with the Union army.

The contrast between Watts’s February letter and what happened only weeks later is striking. When he wrote to the Quartermaster General, Watts was concerned with tents and accounting procedures. The regiment was preparing for another campaign, and the problems of equipment and paperwork were still part of the ordinary business of soldiering. By April, many of the same men would be wounded, killed, or prisoners of war.

Reorganization and the End of the War

Charles B. Johnson, age 21, Hospital Steward, 130th Illinois Infantry Volunteers
Charles B. Johnson, age 21, Hospital Steward, 130th Illinois Infantry. Johnson, who served with the 130th and 77th Illinois regiments became a physician after the war. Late in life, he published a memoir of his experiences (“Muskets and Medicine, or, Army Life in the Sixties.”) with particular attention to medical care and diseases of soldiers during the Civil War. Johnson himself was troubled with chronic diarrhea over a six-year period and describes some of the similar afflictions suffered by his comrades in his book. Photo: https://collections.countway.harvard.edu/onview/items/show/6063

The surviving members of the 130th eventually returned to Union control, while the regiment’s story became intertwined with that of the 77th Illinois Infantry. In January 1865, the 130th was temporarily consolidated with the 77th Illinois. The 130th’s organization was later revived in June 1865, and its remaining officers and men were reorganized into a battalion.

The reconstituted regiment participated in the final Union campaign against Mobile and its defenses. Alongside the 77th Illinois, the men took part in the siege and capture of Spanish Fort and Fort Blakely in Alabama. They subsequently served in the Mobile area and accompanied an expedition up the Tombigbee River to McIntosh Bluffs.

The 130th Illinois was finally mustered out at New Orleans on August 15, 1865. The men then traveled to Springfield, Illinois, where they were paid and formally discharged on August 31.

The service of the 130th Illinois Infantry demonstrates how a Civil War regiment’s history extended far beyond the names of its battles. The men fought at Port Gibson, Champion Hill, Big Black River Bridge, and Vicksburg, endured the hardships of the Gulf Coast, and suffered catastrophic losses at Mansfield. Yet their surviving records also preserve the ordinary details of military life: tents issued without invoices, equipment lost or destroyed during campaigns, officers attempting to keep proper accounts while constantly on the move, and soldiers trying to maintain an organization under extraordinarily difficult circumstances.

Captain John W. Watts’s February 1864 letter is valuable precisely because it concerns such an ordinary matter. His effort to explain a missing invoice and an extra tent offers a glimpse into the machinery behind Civil War armies—and into how quickly that ordinary routine could be shattered. Within weeks of writing the letter, the 130th Illinois would experience one of the worst disasters of its service, with most of its men captured at Mansfield and sent into thirteen months of Confederate imprisonment.

The surviving records of the 130th Illinois therefore allow us to see both sides of Civil War service: the great campaigns remembered in military histories and the everyday problems recorded in the paperwork of individual soldiers and officers. Together, they tell the story of a regiment that spent nearly three years moving from Illinois to Memphis, Vicksburg, Louisiana, Texas, and Alabama before finally returning home in 1865.

Sources

The Research Arsenal is proud to hold 950 digital scans of the 130th Illinois Infantry’s regimental history on its database. These consist of 937 pages of material from the National Archives Records Group 94 files. This comprises Descriptive books, Morning Reports, and Order books. Visit the Research Arsenal, click on “Search NARA Records” then select “RG94” and “130th Illinois Infantry” from the drop-down menus. In addition, the Research Arsenal contains letters, and other forms and documents relating to the 130th Illinois Infantry.

Digitizing Diaries and Books with an Overhead Scanner

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

Digitizing Diaries and Books with an Overhead Scanner

Here you can see a CZUR overhead scanner hooked up to my laptop to digitize bound volumes of archive material.
Here you can see a CZUR overhead scanner hooked up to my laptop to digitize bound volumes of archive material. All those boxes stacked behind my computer were full or more bound volumes that I need to scan during my research trip. I was able to scan about 1800 pages per day with this system.

Digitizing your collection is something that I have recommended in several past posts, and for most cases, that is a pretty straightforward thing to do. Photograph your objects and scan your photographs. But diaries and other bound archive material can be a bit more difficult. This quick guide using an overhead scanner may give you some helpful tips to digitize diaries and other bound books without damaging them.

Whenever you’re digitizing something, making sure that the original item is not damaged in the process is the most important goal. Scanning bound books can be damaging when using a flatbed scanner. Opening the book wide, placing it facedown on the glass, and then closing a lid and pressing that down creates stress on the binding. For old books, that stress can be especially catastrophic and you may end up with a split binding, separated pages, or even tearing. To combat this, I recommend using an overhead scanner.

Overhead scanners work more like cameras than scanners but deliver high-quality scans without damaging the source material and digitize much faster than a flatbed scanner. I have used the CZUR brand for several years now and have used various models. The Aura Pro is a great travel friendly model that takes up less space and is easy to transport. For the highest resolution images, I use their newer model, the ET Max which images documents at 38 megapixels. There are now other brands selling similar products, but I cannot speak about their quality or features.

What’s great about this type of scanner is that the book or document lies flat on the included black pad which causes no stress to the artifact. The overhead scanner can automatically determine the document and digitally separates it from the background so that you end up with a perfect image of the document only. If you place the paper on the black pad crooked, it will be automatically straightened and the background removed. For books, the scanner has a special book mode that you can select which will digitally compensate for the curved pages at the spine. This means that it can scan two pages simultaneously, adjust for the curve in the text at the spine, and present you digital files of each page. From a time perspective, this allows you to set a book below the overhead scanner, click “scan,” image it as quickly as taking a picture, turn the page, and repeat the process. You can scan books that are hundreds of pages long in a matter of minutes. The CZUR scanners also include foot pedals to activate the scanning, which means you can move even more quickly.

Now, with antique books, things are always a bit more complicated, and at times the scanner can have trouble adjusting for the curve in the text at the spine. I have encountered this most often with old diaries that are small, tend to have light pencil handwriting, the writing goes close to the spine, and the pages do not carry enough weight to lay flat on their own. To compensate for this, I take the scanner off of its book scanning mode and set on flat imaging as if it is photographing flat sheets of paper. I use a thin sheet of clear acrylic and place that on top of the diary to hold the pages flat. This is not a lot of pressure, just enough to keep the pages from flying up, and it is enough to allow the scanner to get a full image of both pages. The acrylic plastic is used for picture frames, and you can buy it by the sheet in standard sizes such as 8X10 or 9X12 at places like Home Depot for a few dollars a piece. If your scanner has overhead lighting (as the CZUR does) you will likely have to turn that off when using the acrylic as it can glare.

If you have any interest in digitizing large volumes of paper, books, or fragile documents, I highly recommend an overhead scanner for the simple fact that it is non-damaging to the archive materials. Yet in addition to that, it will allow you to scan documents much more quickly and efficiently. If you are looking for very high resolution scans (such as 600 dpi or higher) you will need to use a flatbed scanner. But if you are simply trying to digitize and preserve a large volume of material, the overhead scanner is the most efficient way to go.

RG 94 Spotlight: 1st New York Light Artillery

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

RG 94 Spotlight: The 1st New York Light Artillery

Officers of the 1st New York Light Artillery
Officers of the 1st New York Light Artillery at Fort Duncan, near Washington D.C. Photo: https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/69558

The Research Arsenal is proud to be digitizing and adding historical records of Civil War regiments held at the National Archives to our online database so that researchers and historians can access material that previously required a trip to Washington D.C. The 1st New York Light Artillery is one of the many regiments that has been added to our database.

The 1st New York Light Artillery was one of the larger and more widely dispersed artillery organizations raised in New York during the Civil War. Organized at Elmira in 1861, the regiment eventually served through virtually the entire war, with its batteries assigned to armies and corps ranging from the Army of the Potomac to the Army of the Cumberland and Army of Georgia. Known as Morgan’s Light Artillery, the regiment saw service in some of the war’s most important campaigns, although its individual batteries often followed very different paths.

Unlike a conventional infantry regiment that generally operated together, the 1st New York Light Artillery functioned primarily through its separate batteries. This meant that men who shared the same regimental designation could find themselves serving hundreds of miles apart. Some batteries participated in major battles such as Fair Oaks, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, and Petersburg, while others spent much of their service in garrison or defensive duties.

Organizing Morgan’s Light Artillery

The regiment was organized at Elmira in the fall of 1861. It received its numerical designation on October 16, and eight companies under Colonel Guilford D. Bailey left New York on October 31. Companies I, K, L, and M followed on November 21. The companies had been recruited from numerous counties across central and northern New York, including Oswego, Oneida, Onondaga, Chemung, Steuben, Monroe, Wayne, Erie, Niagara, Jefferson, St. Lawrence, Lewis, and Herkimer.

The regiment was initially organized for three years, but when that term expired, veterans and recruits remained in service. Its field and staff were eventually mustered out at Elmira on June 21, 1865, under Colonel Charles S. Wainwright. By then, the men had served in the Armies of the Potomac, Virginia, the Cumberland, and Georgia.

The regiment’s early history was also marked by tragedy. Colonel Guilford D. Bailey and Major David H. Van Valkenburgh were both killed at Fair Oaks, Virginia, on May 31, 1862. Bailey’s death removed the regiment’s original commander only months after it had entered Federal service.

The Battery Was the Soldier’s World

1st New York Light Artillery Battery B
Capt. Rufus D. Pettit’s Battery B, 1st New York Light Artillery, in Fort Richardson, Fair Oaks, Va., vicinity. Taken June 1862. https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/66264

For the individual artilleryman, the battery was often more important than the regiment as a whole. The 1st New York included Batteries A through M, and the service of these units could be dramatically different.

Battery E, for example, moved to Washington in late 1861 and subsequently served with the Army of the Potomac through many of its major campaigns. The National Park Service records its participation in the Peninsula Campaign, Williamsburg, the Seven Days Battles, Second Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, the Bristoe and Mine Run campaigns, and the campaigns of 1864 through Petersburg.

Battery F followed a very different pattern. Organized at Elmira and mustered in on September 14, 1861, it spent the winter of 1861–62 at Camp Barry in Washington. It accompanied the army toward Virginia and the Peninsula in 1862, but much of its subsequent service consisted of garrison duty at Yorktown and in the defenses of Washington. The battery did not suffer casualties in action, but fourteen men died from disease and other causes.

The contrast illustrates an important reality of Civil War service: being part of a regiment that fought at famous battles did not necessarily mean that every soldier experienced those battles firsthand.

A Soldier’s View of Battery E

One of the most revealing accounts associated with the regiment comes from Nelson A. Daines, an artificer in Battery E. Daines enlisted in September 1861 and served through some of the most important campaigns of the Army of the Potomac. His service record placed him at engagements including Lee’s Mills, Yorktown, Williamsburg, Fair Oaks, the Seven Days, Second Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Mine Run, the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, North Anna, Cold Harbor, Petersburg, and the Weldon Railroad.

Daines’ letters also provide a glimpse into the less dramatic work required to keep an artillery battery operating. Writing from Washington in December 1861, he explained to his wife that he was working as an artificer, serving as the boss of the blacksmith shop and battery wagon. He noted that the battery had ninety-four horses and that his “shop is outdoors.”

The enormous logistical demands of artillery are apparent in another letter written in February 1862. Daines estimated that his battery required 1,300 horses to move its guns, equipment, and baggage. The artilleryman was not simply a man who stood beside a cannon and fired it. Horses, harness, ammunition, wagons, equipment, mechanics, and specialists were all necessary to put the guns into action.

Daines’ letters also reveal the emotional side of military service. Separated from his wife and son, he wrote that he would like nothing better than to see them. Yet he remained committed to his service, declaring that if he fell, he would “sell my life as dear as possible” and stand by the flag.

His later service demonstrates how long and arduous the war could be for artillerymen. Daines reenlisted in December 1863 and was transferred to Battery L in June 1864. He remained in service until June 17, 1865. Despite participating in numerous campaigns, he later recalled that he was never sick for an hour and had never spent time in a hospital except to care for sick and wounded soldiers.

Battery F and the Reality of Disease

The surviving testimony from Battery F offers a useful counterpoint to Daines’ combat experiences. In October 1862, while the battery was stationed at Yorktown, the noncommissioned officers and privates presented Assistant Surgeon Daniel Pardee with a testimonial expressing their appreciation for his service.

The soldiers explained that Pardee had arrived among them as “an entire stranger,” but that his sympathy and medical skill had earned their gratitude during a period of “unusual sickness.” Their testimony is a reminder that disease was an ever-present danger in Civil War camps, even for soldiers whose batteries did not experience heavy combat.

Battery F ultimately lost fourteen men to disease and other causes. Its experience also demonstrates why a soldier’s wartime story cannot be measured solely by a list of battles. Long periods of garrison duty, illness, drills, maintenance, marching, and waiting were all part of military life.

The 1st New York Light Artillery at Gettysburg

Some batteries of the 1st New York Light Artillery played an important role at Gettysburg. Newspaper accounts preserved by the New York State Military Museum include Major Thomas W. Osborne’s report describing the artillery position on Cemetery Hill during the battle.

Osborne described the careful placement of batteries so that they could support one another without interfering with each other’s fire. During the fighting on July 2, Confederate artillery concentrated heavily on the Federal position. Osborne reported that the Union batteries continued firing despite the intensity of the bombardment, and that several Confederate batteries were silenced.

The fighting became particularly intense when Confederate infantry attacked Wiedrich’s Battery. According to the contemporary account, the infantry initially gave way and the battery was briefly exposed to capture. The artillerymen then rallied alongside the infantry, seized whatever weapons they could find, and joined the counterattack. Canister was used against the attacking Confederates.

The following day brought an even greater artillery bombardment. Osborne described Confederate guns opening along the Federal front and concentrating their fire on the Union position. The Federal artillery endured the bombardment before turning its guns against Pickett’s Charge. Osborne believed the artillery fire from Cemetery Hill played a major role in breaking up the Confederate advance.

The newspaper coverage also shows how the achievements of individual batteries were remembered at home. One article praised Captain John A. Reynolds and his battery, noting that it had participated in some of the war’s hottest engagements and had been relied upon by its commanders. During the retreat from Chancellorsville, the battery reportedly helped cover the withdrawing troops at United States Ford.

Soldiers, Families, and the Home Front

The newspaper clippings associated with the regiment provide another perspective on the war. They record promotions, recruiting efforts, wounded soldiers, returning veterans, and even money sent home by men serving in the batteries.

In 1863, for example, soldiers of Battery G sent substantial sums of money home through the American Express Company. The published list included dozens of men and amounts ranging from $15 to several hundred dollars. Captain Nelson Ames himself was listed as sending $350.

Such notices demonstrate how closely the soldiers remained connected to their communities in New York. The men were fighting hundreds of miles from home, but their families and neighbors followed their careers through newspapers, letters, furloughs, promotions, casualty lists, and financial remittances.

By 1864, newspapers were still reporting promotions within the regiment. Sergeant L. W. Scott was promoted to second lieutenant and subsequently to first lieutenant, while First Sergeant Hiram H. Schell was promoted to second lieutenant. These announcements were not simply military news; they were news about local men whose families and communities had a personal interest in their careers.

Four Years of Service

The story of the 1st New York Light Artillery is ultimately the story of many different batteries and thousands of individual soldiers. Some fought repeatedly in the major battles of the Eastern Theater. Others spent months or years performing garrison duty. Still others served as mechanics, artificers, teamsters, clerks, or medical personnel whose work was essential to keeping the batteries operational.

The regiment suffered significant losses during its four years of service. According to the New York State Military Museum, five officers and fifty-four enlisted men were killed in action; one officer and forty-one enlisted men died from wounds; and five officers and 161 enlisted men died from disease and other causes. In all, 267 men of the regiment died during the war, including nine enlisted men who died while in Confederate hands.

When the surviving members finally returned to New York in 1865, they brought home experiences that varied enormously from one battery to another. Their letters, newspaper accounts, official records, and surviving histories allow us to reconstruct those experiences today.

The 1st New York Light Artillery therefore deserves to be remembered not merely as a single regiment, but as a collection of batteries whose men served in very different circumstances. From the muddy camps around Washington to the battlefields of the Peninsula, Antietam, Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg, and ultimately through the campaigns of 1864 and the final operations against Petersburg, Morgan’s Light Artillery remained in Federal service until the end of the war. Its surviving correspondence makes clear that behind the movements of batteries and the reports of battles were individual men thinking about their families, caring for their comrades, maintaining their equipment, and trying to survive a war that would keep them away from home for years.

Sources

The Research Arsenal is proud to hold 1,296 digital scans of the 1st New York Light Artillery’s regimental history on its database. These consist of 1,250 pages of material from the National Archives Records Group 94 files. This comprises Descriptive books, Morning Reports, and Order books. Visit the Research Arsenal, click on “Search NARA Records” then select “RG94” and “1st New York Light Artillery” from the drop-down menus. In addition, the Research Arsenal contains letters, and other forms and documents relating to the 1st New York Light Artillery.

RG 94 Spotlight: The 2nd Maine Infantry in Two Letters

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

RG 94 Spotlight: The 2nd Maine Infantry in Two Letters

Camp of 2nd Maine Infantry, Camp Jameson-Photograph shows officers, infantry soldiers, and military band standing in a snow covered field; tents in the background.
Camp of 2nd Maine Infantry, Camp Jameson-Photograph shows officers, infantry soldiers, and military band standing in a snow covered field; tents in the background. Photo: https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/69351

The Research Arsenal is proud to be digitizing and adding historical records of Civil War regiments held at the National Archives to our online database so that researchers and historians can access material that previously required a trip to Washington D.C. The 2nd Maine Infantry is one of the many regiments that has been added to our database.

When the Civil War erupted in April 1861, the response in Maine was immediate. In Bangor and communities throughout the Penobscot Valley, men who had been lumbermen, mill workers, merchants, firefighters, students, and members of local militia companies suddenly found themselves preparing for war. Among the first Maine units to answer the call was the 2nd Maine Volunteer Infantry.

Although numbered the second Maine regiment, it was actually the first Maine regiment to leave the state for the front. Organized at Bangor and mustered into Federal service on May 28, 1861, the regiment would spend the next two years campaigning in Virginia and Maryland. Its soldiers fought at First Bull Run, Yorktown, Hanover Court House, Gaines’ Mill, Malvern Hill, Second Bull Run, Antietam, Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville. By the time the regiment returned to Maine in 1863, it had been transformed by two years of campaigning and combat.

The story of the 2nd Maine, however, is more than a list of battles. The letters written by its soldiers reveal something of what it meant to leave Maine, enter the Army of the Potomac, and face the uncertainty of war.

Building the “Bangor Regiment”

Col. Charles W. Roberts, 2nd Maine Infantry
Col. Charles W. Roberts, 2nd Maine At the start of the war he became lieutenant colonel of the 2nd Maine Infantry Regiment, the first Maine unit to leave the state for the war. He fought at Bull Run, and was promoted to colonel and command of the regiment with the promotion of Colonel Charles Davis Jameson to Brigadier General in October of 1861. Roberts commanded the regiment at Second Bull Run, having his horse shot from under him, and at Antietam, where the regiment was in reserve. He resigned due to ill health in 1863. Roberts returned to Bangor and was awarded the rank of brevet brigadier general at the end of the war. His Second Empire style house on State Street is on the National Register of Historic Places. He was the Democratic candidate for governor in 1875 but lost to Seldon Connor, another Civil War general from Maine. Charles Roberts died in 1898, and he is buried in Mount Hope Cemetery in Bangor. Photo: https://app.researcharsenal.com/imageSingleView/65860

The 2nd Maine grew out of both Maine’s existing militia organizations and the wave of patriotic volunteering that followed Fort Sumter. Before the war, Maine’s militia system had declined considerably. In 1860, the state’s adjutant general reported only 36 organized militia companies, and even many of those were poorly maintained. Yet when the crisis came, those surviving organizations provided an important foundation for the new regiment.

Bangor, a prosperous lumber port on the Penobscot River, supplied much of the regiment. Companies were formed from existing organizations such as the Bangor Light Infantry and Grattan Guards, while companies were also recruited from Brewer, Castine, Milo, Old Town, and surrounding communities. The men came from a wide variety of occupations. Firefighters known as the “Ex-Tigers” became Company G, while lumbermen, river drivers, mill workers, mariners, and other working men filled the ranks.

The regiment’s commander was Colonel Charles D. Jameson, a lumberman from Stillwater who had previous militia experience. Among its officers was Augustus Choate Hamlin, nephew of Vice President Hannibal Hamlin, who served as assistant surgeon and later surgeon.

The enthusiasm of the people of Bangor was unmistakable. On May 14, 1861, the regiment marched from Camp Washburn to the railroad station through streets crowded with civilians. The soldiers received a silk American flag from the women of Bangor before boarding the trains. The departure took place amid rain, cheers, cannon fire, and the whistles of locomotives.

For many of these men, it was the beginning of an experience they could scarcely have imagined.

“I am bound that my parents shall have enough to console them”

One of the most revealing letters from the 2nd Maine was written from Alexandria, Virginia, on March 16, 1862. The writer, whose identity is not presently established, was already confronting the possibility that his next letter home might never be written.

Writing to his sister, he described the recent movements of the regiment through Virginia. The men had marched ten miles through deep mud from Hall’s Hill to Fairfax and then another fifteen miles through rain to Alexandria. The weather had left the soldiers soaked, and many were forced to spend the night lying on cold, wet ground. Yet the hardships of campaigning were not the central concern of the letter. The writer was thinking about death.

He told his sister:

“Still, ere you get this, I may be prostrated on some Southern plain. But if so, I am bound that my parents shall have enough to console them—namely, that I fall doing a soldier’s duty.”

The statement provides a remarkable glimpse into the mindset of at least one young Maine soldier. He understood that the coming campaign might kill him, but he also believed that dying in the performance of his duty would give meaning to his death. The writer had little doubt that combat was approaching. The regiment was preparing to embark for Fortress Monroe and then proceed farther south. He expected “some hard fighting” and wrote that he was “ready and willing to do my part of it.” His letter also reveals the complicated emotions surrounding enlistment. His sister apparently wished that he had remained home with friends and family. His response was emphatic. He could not bear the thought of living quietly while other men fought.

“It would be utterly impossible for one of my nature & ambition to attend school or remain in quiet life while others were doing the fighting for me.”

His language was youthful, idealistic, and uncompromising. He went so far as to say that if he knew he would be among those killed, he would still refuse the opportunity to return home.

“I would spurn with contempt the offer & rush forward manfully & die like a hero rather than live a coward.”

Such words should not be treated as representative of every soldier in the regiment. The Civil War produced a wide range of attitudes toward duty, patriotism, fear, and military service. But this letter captures the extraordinary conviction with which some volunteers entered the war.

Thomas Foster: Soldiering Before the Fighting Began

Another letter, written from Camp Barnes at Hall’s Hill on October 27, 1861, offers a very different but equally valuable view of life in the 2nd Maine. The writer was almost certainly Thomas Foster, who had enlisted on May 28, 1861, as first sergeant of Company E. Foster was promoted to second lieutenant in August, first lieutenant in July 1862, and captain in March 1863. He would eventually leave the 2nd Maine and later serve in the 1st Maine Heavy Artillery, where he was wounded during the fighting near Petersburg in June 1864.

In October 1861, however, Foster was still a relatively junior officer trying to anticipate the regiment’s next movement. His letter begins with practical matters. He discusses blankets, his missing sword, and even the possibility of purchasing a horse. He wanted a horse that was “steady,” but also fast enough to “canter, gallop, & leap if necessary.” The mundane details are striking because they exist alongside the knowledge that the regiment might receive marching orders at any moment. Foster explained that the soldiers repeatedly received orders to prepare two days’ rations and get everything ready to move, only to have the anticipated movement fail to materialize. “We are liable to start at anytime,” Foster wrote, reflecting the uncertainty that characterized military life before the Peninsula Campaign.

He also described a grand review attended by General George B. McClellan and other officers. Thousands of soldiers marched past in review before participating in battlefield maneuvers. Foster admitted that the day’s activities left the men tired, but he considered the exercise successful.

The letter demonstrates that the soldiers’ lives consisted of much more than fighting. Drill, inspections, equipment, horses, food, weather, correspondence, and rumors about future movements occupied much of their time. And yet beneath all of these ordinary concerns was the expectation that eventually the waiting would end.

From Bull Run to the Peninsula

The 2nd Maine joined the Army of Northeastern Virginia and fought at First Bull Run on July 21, 1861. The regiment was committed to the fighting around Henry House Hill and suffered heavily. Thirteen men were killed, 24 wounded, and 118 initially reported missing, although many of those missing eventually returned to the regiment. The regiment’s performance earned strong praise. Brigadier General Erasmus D. Keyes later wrote that the gallantry of the 2nd Maine in charging toward the Confederate artillery and infantry was, in his opinion, “never surpassed.”

In 1862 the regiment participated in the Peninsula Campaign, fighting at Yorktown, Hanover Court House, Gaines’ Mill, and Malvern Hill. It then returned to northern Virginia and fought at Second Bull Run. By July 1862, the regiment’s effective strength had fallen to only 257 rifles. After Second Bull Run, just 137 men remained able to carry arms.

The numbers tell a story that words alone cannot. A regiment that had marched proudly out of Bangor had been reduced by battle, disease, wounds, captivity, and other losses. The survivors continued on to Antietam and Fredericksburg before taking part in the Chancellorsville Campaign in May 1863. The Maine State Library’s collection of official correspondence provides an additional window into this period, documenting everything from casualties and deaths to promotions, medical appointments, recruiting efforts, and soldiers who had been captured and paroled.

The Long Road Home

For the 2nd Maine, the end came in 1863—not because the regiment had ceased to be useful, but because most of its original members had enlisted for two years. This created a difficult situation. Some men had enlisted for three years, while others believed they were committing themselves for only two. As their original enlistments expired, the two-year soldiers refused to remain.

By May 1863, only about 275 of the roughly 750 men who had originally departed Bangor were returning home. Death, disease, wounds, captivity, desertion, and medical discharge had taken the rest. On May 19, the regiment held its final dress parade on Virginia soil. The next morning, the men began their journey home. Their comrades in the 18th Massachusetts offered to escort them to the railroad, a gesture that demonstrated the bonds forged through nearly two years of campaigning. William T. Livermore of the 20th Maine watched the departure and later recalled how the soldiers shook hands with the departing men. They cheered one another until the 2nd Maine left for home. About 120 of the 2nd Maine soldiers found themselves transferred into the 20th Maine Infantry just before participating in the Battle of Gettsyburg.

For those who returned to Maine, the homecoming in Bangor was every bit as emotional as the departure two years earlier. The city asked businesses to close during the reception, and an immense crowd filled Broadway to welcome the returning soldiers.

Remembering the 2nd Maine

The 2nd Maine Infantry’s story illustrates the enormous transformation experienced by Civil War volunteers. They left Maine amid flags, cheering crowds, speeches, and patriotic enthusiasm. Within months, they had experienced the reality of battle. Over the following two years, they endured campaigning, disease, wounds, death, exhaustion, uncertainty, and the loss of hundreds of comrades. The letters of men such as Thomas Foster and the unidentified soldier writing from Alexandria make that transformation particularly vivid. Foster’s October 1861 letter shows a soldier concerned with blankets, horses, drills, and rumors of movement. Five months later, another 2nd Maine soldier was writing to his sister about the possibility of dying on a “Southern plain.”

The regiment’s official record can tell us where the 2nd Maine fought and how many men were lost. The soldiers’ correspondence tells us something more personal: what it felt like to be one of those men. The 2nd Maine Infantry left Maine first, fought through some of the Army of the Potomac’s earliest campaigns, and returned home after two years of service. Its veterans carried with them memories of friends who had not survived, battlefields they would never forget, and experiences that permanently separated their wartime lives from the world they had known before 1861. Their story survives not only in regimental histories and casualty lists, but in the words they themselves left behind.

Sources

The Research Arsenal is proud to hold 105 digital scans of the 2nd Maine Infantry’s regimental history on its database. These consist of 89 pages of material from the National Archives Records Group 94 files. This comprises the only book available, which is the Descriptive Book for Companies B, C, H and K. Visit the Research Arsenal, click on “Search NARA Records” then select “RG94” and “12nd Maine Infantry” from the drop-down menus. In addition, the Research Arsenal contains letters, photographs, and other forms and documents relating to the 2nd Maine Infantry.

  • Brian F. Swartz, “Johnny Comes Marching Home: the 2nd Maine Infantry returns, part I,” Maine at War, July 15, 2026. (Maine at War)
  • Ryan Quint, “Recruiting the Regiment: The 2nd Maine Volunteer Infantry,” Emerging Civil War, June 4, 2021. (Emerging Civil War)
  • Brian F. Swartz, “Recruiting The Regiment: The Militia & The 2nd Maine Infantry,” Emerging Civil War, June 8, 2021. (Emerging Civil War)
  • “2nd Maine Infantry Regiment,” Wikipedia, accessed September 2026. (Wikipedia)
  • Maine State Library, “2nd Maine Regiment | Adjutant General Correspondence.” (DigitalMaine)
  • Research Arsenal, transcribed correspondence of the 2nd Maine Infantry, including the March 16, 1862 letter from Alexandria and Thomas Foster’s October 27, 1861 letter from Camp Barnes, Hall’s Hill, Virginia.
  • William E. S. Whitman and Charles H. True, Maine in the War for the Union: A History of the Part Borne by Maine Troops in the Suppression of the American Rebellion (1865).
  • James H. Mundy, Second to None: The Story of the 2d Maine Volunteer Infantry: “The Bangor Regiment” (1992).

 

RG 94 Spotlight: 15th Illinois Infantry

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

The 15th Illinois Infantry: From the Hope of Home to the Hell of Shiloh and Hatchie

The Research Arsenal is proud to be digitizing and adding historical records of Civil War regiments held at the National Archives to our online database so that researchers and historians can access material that previously required a trip to Washington D.C. The 15th Illinois Infantry is one of the many regiments that has been added to our database.

When the Civil War began in 1861, thousands of Illinois men answered President Abraham Lincoln’s call for volunteers. Among them was twenty-year-old Philo Handy of Marengo, Illinois, who enlisted in Company D of the 15th Illinois Infantry on May 24, 1861. Like many of the young men who joined the regiment, Handy entered the army with a mixture of patriotism, excitement, and an expectation that the war might be over before too long.

Four years later, the surviving veterans of the 15th Illinois would have marched thousands of miles, fought in some of the bloodiest campaigns of the Western Theater, endured wounds and imprisonment, and followed William T. Sherman’s army through Georgia and the Carolinas. The young men who had left Illinois in 1861 were very different soldiers by the end of the war.

The story of the 15th Illinois is particularly well preserved through the first-hand accounts of men such as Philo Handy and Lucius W. Barber, both of Company D. Their writings allow us to see the regiment not simply as a military organization moving from one battlefield to another, but as a group of young men whose war was experienced one march, one battle, one letter, and one wounded comrade at a time.

From Illinois to Missouri

The 15th Illinois was raised under Illinois’ Ten Regiment Act and mustered into Federal service at Freeport on May 24, 1861. Its companies came from several northern Illinois counties, with Companies A, D, and F drawing volunteers from McHenry County and other companies coming from communities across the northern part of the state.

The first months of military life were filled with drilling, marching, camp construction, sickness, and seemingly endless movement. The regiment eventually moved into Missouri, where it became part of the Union effort to secure the state and prevent Confederate forces from establishing control there. The 15th Illinois spent considerable time marching through places including Rolla, Tipton, and Sedalia before eventually being ordered toward Tennessee.

For Handy, however, the war was still closely connected to home.

On November 22, 1861, while encamped near Tipton, Missouri, he wrote a letter to his friend Martha. His letter reveals a young soldier who was already tired from campaigning but still believed that the conflict might soon be over.

Handy described the regiment’s recent movements and the hardships of campaigning. The men had gone for four weeks without tents, sleeping beneath the open sky. They had made forced marches of fifty or sixty miles without sleeping or eating and had marched approximately three hundred miles in three weeks.

Yet his thoughts repeatedly returned to Illinois.

He imagined the day when the war would end and he could return home to friends. “Then Ho! for Illinois and home among friends,” he wrote, calling the prospect a “happy thought” and a “fond hope.”

It is one of the most revealing passages in the letter because Handy was still able to imagine the war as something temporary—a difficult interruption before life returned to normal.

He asked his friend Martha whether she intended to attend school that winter and imagined visiting her. He mentioned friends and acquaintances he had encountered in the army. Even while sleeping outdoors and marching hundreds of miles, he remained connected to the ordinary world he had left behind. Handy could not know how dramatically his life would change during the following year.

Toward Fort Donelson and Shiloh

Hurlbut's division shown fighting at Shiloh.
Hurlbut’s division shown fighting at Shiloh.

By early 1862, the 15th Illinois was moving toward the major Union campaigns in Tennessee. The regiment participated in the operations that resulted in the capture of Fort Donelson before moving toward Pittsburg Landing and joining General Stephen A. Hurlbut’s Fourth Division. In March, the regiment arrived at Pittsburg Landing.

Lucius W. Barber, another member of Company D, described the arrival in his memoirs. The area was still largely wilderness, with only a few log structures visible. Suddenly, thousands of Union soldiers arrived, transforming the quiet landscape into a massive military encampment. Barber described the sounds of marching men, drums, fifes, and bugles echoing through the previously quiet countryside.

The Union army was gathering for a confrontation with the Confederate army concentrated around Corinth.

The 15th Illinois at the Hornet’s Nest

The 15th Illinois was among the Union regiments that found themselves heavily engaged during the first day of fighting at Shiloh (April 6, 1862). Part of Hurlbut’s “Fighting Fourth Division,” the regiment was brigaded under Colonel James C. Veatch. The 15th formed part of the Union line that resisted repeated Confederate attacks in the area that became known as the Hornet’s Nest.

For the men of Company D, the battle quickly became a terrifying reality.

Barber remembered portions of the company becoming separated from the regiment during the fighting. Confederate artillery fire swept the area with grape and canister. The men were forced to cross an open field under fire in order to rejoin their comrades.

Once back with the regiment, they found themselves facing Confederate infantry concealed behind fences and thick underbrush.

Company D lost three men killed and seventeen wounded during the first day’s fighting. Among the dead were Captain Harley Wayne, Private Thompson Hardy, and Private John Spicer. Lieutenant Fred A. Smith and numerous other officers and enlisted men were wounded.

On the morning of April 7, Company D could muster only thirteen men. The regiment that had entered the battle with its full ranks had been devastated in a single day.

For Philo Handy, the experience was particularly significant. The young man who had written from Missouri about returning home had now experienced one of the most desperate battles of the Civil War. And he would soon face another.

“Hell on the Hatchie”

After Shiloh, the 15th Illinois continued campaigning in Tennessee and Mississippi. The regiment participated in the siege of Corinth and then marched through Grand Junction, Holly Springs, LaGrange, and Memphis. In September 1862, the regiment marched to Bolivar, Tennessee, before receiving orders to move toward Corinth in response to Confederate operations under Earl Van Dorn and Sterling Price.

The resulting campaign brought the regiment to the Hatchie River on October 4, 1862.

The battle became known among soldiers as “Hell on the Hatchie.”

The 15th Illinois was heavily engaged. The regiment fought at Metamora Hill, drove Confederate forces from their positions, captured a four-gun battery and approximately three hundred prisoners, and then charged across the Hatchie bridge. The 14th Illinois formed alongside the 15th, and the two regiments continued attacking Confederate positions in the woods beyond the river. The regiment ultimately suffered more than fifty killed and wounded.

Among the wounded was Philo Handy. His wound was recorded in Lucius Barber’s memoir, creating a remarkable connection between two soldiers who had served together in Company D since the beginning of the war.

Barber described the regiment’s advance after crossing the river. Confederate soldiers were concealed behind a rail fence and in dense underbrush, pouring heavy fire into the Union line. The 15th Illinois took shelter behind a long log.

Barber and another soldier attempted to get over the log but quickly decided they had chosen a dangerous position.

“The bullets pelted against the log like hailstones,” Barber recalled.

Then he saw Handy fall.

“Philo Handy, my right hand man, was shot and badly wounded.”

That brief sentence gives us something that a casualty list never could. Handy was not simply one of the regiment’s wounded. He was Barber’s “right hand man,” a comrade who had stood beside him while bullets tore through the trees.

Handy’s wound proved serious enough to end his military service. He was discharged on May 1, 1863, because of medical disability.

The Soldier Comes Home

Philo Handy 15th Illinois Infantry
Portrait of Philo Handy of the 15th Illinois Infantry taken after the war. Source: https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/29009335/philo-handy

Handy’s discharge marked the end of his wartime service, but it did not mark the end of his story. In 1864, he returned home and married Laura Roper. He spent much of the rest of his life in northern California and was a pioneer of Mendocino County, even serving as undersheriff there. He died in 1923 at the age of 81.

The 15th Illinois Becomes a Veteran Regiment

While Handy’s military career ended in 1863, the 15th Illinois continued the war.

The regiment participated in the Vicksburg campaign in 1863 and fought during the siege that culminated in the surrender of Vicksburg on July 4. It subsequently participated in operations in Mississippi and later reenlisted as a veteran organization.

By 1864, the regiment was once again campaigning with Sherman’s army.

Lucius Barber was among those who reenlisted. His service record shows that he re-enlisted in January 1864 and was promoted to sergeant. The regiment moved through the campaigns in Mississippi and Georgia, participating in the fighting associated with Sherman’s advance toward Atlanta.

The 15th Illinois was eventually consolidated with the 14th Illinois, forming the 14th and 15th Illinois Veteran Battalion in July 1864. The combined veterans continued with Sherman’s army and eventually participated in the March to the Sea and the Carolinas Campaign.

Ackworth and Andersonville

Lucius Barber of the 15th Illinois Infantry
Lucius Barber of the 15th Illinois Infantry. Source: https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/5358587/lucius-w.-barber

For Lucius Barber, the final year of the war brought an experience that Philo Handy had fortunately escaped. On October 4, 1864, Barber was captured at Ackworth, Georgia. His service record states that he was taken to Andersonville Prison, where he remained until being paroled on November 20. He was exchanged in January 1865 and eventually discharged in September.

Barber survived his imprisonment, but the effects followed him home. A postwar account records that he died in Riley, Illinois, in 1872 at only thirty-two years of age. The account attributed his eventual illness to the exposure and maltreatment he suffered while imprisoned at Andersonville.

His experience offers a striking contrast to Handy’s. Both men enlisted in Company D in 1861. Both experienced Shiloh and the terrible fighting of the Western Theater. Handy was wounded at Hatchie and discharged. Barber remained in service, reenlisted, was promoted to sergeant, and was eventually captured and imprisoned. Two soldiers from the same company could experience the same war in profoundly different ways.

The Long Road Home

The 15th Illinois continued through the final campaigns of the war. After Sherman’s March to the Sea, the veterans participated in the Carolinas Campaign, including the Battle of Bentonville. They marched north through the Carolinas and Virginia, eventually reaching Washington, D.C., where they participated in the Grand Review in May 1865.

But even after Confederate armies surrendered, the regiment’s service was not immediately over.

The 15th Illinois traveled west to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and ultimately completed its military service in September 1865. The regiment had spent more than four years in uniform. The young volunteers who had left Illinois in 1861 had traveled an extraordinary distance—physically and personally.

Sources

The Research Arsenal is proud to hold 298 digital scans of the 15th Illinois Infantry’s regimental history on its database. These consist of 244 pages of material from the National Archives Records Group 94 files. These include a Regimental Descriptive book, Morning Report book, and Regimental Order books. Visit the Research Arsenal, click on “Search NARA Records” then select “RG94” and “15th Illinois Infantry” from the drop-down menus. In addition, the Research Arsenal contains letters, and other forms and documents relating to the 15th Illinois Infantry.

  • Lucius W. Barber, Army Memoirs of Lucius W. Barber, Company D, 15th Illinois Volunteer Infantry, May 24, 1861 to September 30, 1865.
  • Philo Handy, Company D, 15th Illinois Infantry, letter dated November 22, 1861, Camp near Tipton, Missouri, Research Arsenal database.
  • History of the 15th Illinois Infantry Regiment, Illinois Genealogy. (Illinois Genealogy)
  • History of 15th Infantry Illinois Regiment, IllinoisGenWeb. (ILGenWeb)
  • National Park Service, 15th Illinois Infantry Regiment. (National Park Service)
  • Illinois State Archives, Regimental Histories. (Illinois Secretary of State)
  • Dan Masters, “Dreaming of Powder, Musket Balls, and Bloodshed,” Dan Masters’ Civil War Chronicles. (Dan Masters blog)
  • 15th Illinois Infantry Regiment, Wikipedia. (Wikipedia)

 

Caring for Historic Photographs: A Guide to Preserving Your 19th Century Images

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

Caring for Historic Photographs: A Guide to Preserving Your 19th Century Images

Historic photographs are among the most valuable objects in a family archive or Civil War collection. A photograph may be the only surviving likeness of an ancestor, soldier, or historical figure, and the information written on its back can sometimes be just as valuable as the image itself. Yet photographs from the 19th century are surprisingly fragile. The photographic image, the paper or metal it is attached to, the cardboard mount, and even the original case or album can all deteriorate over time.

Fortunately, preserving historic photographs does not necessarily require a museum. A few basic precautions—proper handling, appropriate storage, a stable environment, and protection from light—can greatly extend the life of these irreplaceable objects.

Understand What You Have

One of the first steps in caring for an old photograph is understanding what kind of photograph you have. Different photographic processes have different preservation needs. The 19th century saw an extraordinary variety of photographic processes. Daguerreotypes and ambrotypes were housed in protective cases, while tintypes placed the image directly onto a thin sheet of lacquered iron. Paper photographs eventually became common, including the carte-de-visite (CDV) and cabinet card.

Cartes-de-visite were particularly popular from the late 1850s through the 1870s. Measuring approximately 2½ by 4 inches, these small photographs were mounted on cardstock and were frequently produced in multiple copies for family and friends. Cabinet cards, which became increasingly popular during the 1870s, were larger, generally measuring approximately 4¼ by 6½ inches. Both formats became important forms of family and social history before inexpensive amateur photography made snapshots commonplace.

Tintypes are especially common in Civil War-era collections. Despite their name, tintypes were not actually made from tin. The photographic image was created on a thin sheet of lacquered iron. They were produced in a variety of sizes, from tiny “gem” photographs to much larger plates. Their metal support makes them somewhat different from paper photographs, but it does not make them indestructible. Bent edges, scratches, corrosion, and damage to the photographic surface can all threaten the image.

Knowing the photographic process can help you decide how to handle and store the item.

Handle Historic Photographs Carefully

Perhaps the simplest preservation measure is also one of the most important: handle historic photographs as little as possible. Before handling photographs, make sure your hands are clean and dry. Oils and perspiration from your fingers can transfer to photographic surfaces and cause damage over time. When possible, hold photographs by their edges and avoid touching the image itself. Support the entire photograph rather than allowing it to bend or flex.

Photographs should also never be dragged across one another. This is particularly important with tintypes because their metal edges can scratch neighboring photographs. Keeping individual photographs separated in protective enclosures greatly reduces this risk.

Be especially careful with cased photographs such as daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, and some tintypes. If an early photograph is housed in its original case, do not attempt to remove the photograph from the case simply to put it into another enclosure. The case is part of the object’s history and may provide important physical protection.

Keep Photographs Away From Heat, Moisture, and Light

The environment in which photographs are stored can have a greater effect on their survival than almost anything else. The National Archives recommends keeping family papers and photographs in a cool, stable environment. Temperatures should remain below 75°F, while relative humidity should remain below 65 percent. At the same time, extremely dry conditions should be avoided because relative humidity below approximately 15 percent can make materials brittle.

For most collectors, the practical lesson is simple: don’t store historic photographs in an attic, basement, garage, or other location subject to extreme temperature or humidity changes.

Avoid places where water leaks or flooding could occur. Photographs should be stored off the floor and away from pipes, windows, and known sources of moisture. Food and water should also be kept away from collections because they can attract insects and rodents.

Light is another major threat. Historic photographic materials can fade or deteriorate when exposed to light for long periods. If you display an important photograph, keep it out of direct sunlight and away from fluorescent lighting. UV-filtering glazing can provide additional protection when framing photographs.

In other words, that beautiful antique photograph probably shouldn’t spend years sitting in a sunny window.

Choose the Right Storage Materials

The materials touching a photograph matter. Ordinary paper, cardboard, adhesives, and plastics can release chemicals that contribute to deterioration. The National Archives recommends storage containers made from acid-free, lignin-free, or appropriately buffered materials and notes that photographic storage materials should pass the Photographic Activity Test (PAT). Containers should also be appropriately sized so that photographs do not bend, fold, or shift around inside them.

Archival paper and certain stable plastics, including polyester and polyethylene, are commonly used for photographic storage. Polyester provides a clear, sturdy enclosure for individual photographs, while polyethylene is a more flexible alternative. Acid-free paper enclosures are also useful and have the advantage of allowing the material to breathe rather than trapping moisture.

For a collection of CDVs and cabinet cards, individual archival sleeves or envelopes can protect each photograph from dust, fingerprints, and abrasion. The protected photographs can then be organized in appropriately sized archival boxes.

When writing identification information, write on the enclosure rather than directly on the photograph whenever possible. An archival pencil or appropriate archival marker can be used on suitable card stock or envelopes.

Special Care for Tintypes

Caring for historic photographs, tintype in sleeve
Loose tintypes can be abrasive to other photographic materials. If stored in sleeves (or binder sleeves as pictured) you can back them with archival cardstock and write any relevant information on the cardstock (collection number, name, regiment, price paid, etc.). This keeps them organized without damaging each other. Photo from Archival Methods: https://www.archivalmethods.com/blog/tintypes-archival-preservation/?srsltid=AfmBOop9hWudPeDyvM_pT0TgYeM2OBWyJHC9iBUkGZq7aO5lrJpAuGXz

Tintypes deserve particular attention because they are so common in 19th-century collections and Civil War photography. Because the image is on a thin metal plate, tintypes can have sharp or bent edges that may damage other photographs. Individual archival polyethylene envelopes are an effective way to keep them separated. Acid-free card stock can also provide additional support for thin or vulnerable tintypes. (

If a tintype is housed in an original 19th-century album or case, resist the temptation to dismantle it. Instead, consider digitizing the image while preserving the original album or case as an artifact.

Tintypes can also contain remarkable amounts of detail despite their small size. Creating a high-resolution digital copy allows you to enlarge the photograph, share it with relatives, or use the digital version for research without repeatedly handling the original. If there is writing or a photographer’s imprint on the back, digitize that side as well.

Don’t Forget the Back of the Photograph

For historians and genealogists, the back of a photograph can be as important as the front. A photographer’s studio imprint can identify where the photograph was taken. A handwritten name can identify the sitter. A date, address, military unit, or family note can provide clues that help connect the photograph to other records.

For this reason, always digitize both sides of a historic photograph when possible. The information on the reverse should not be overlooked simply because the photographic image is on the front. Archival Methods specifically recommends scanning the backs of CDVs, cabinet cards, and tintypes when information is present.

This is particularly important for Civil War photographs. A seemingly ordinary photograph may contain an identifying notation such as a soldier’s name or regiment that transforms an unidentified portrait into a documented historical artifact.

Digitize Before You Handle and Share

Digitization is one of the best ways to reduce unnecessary handling. Creating a good digital copy means that family members, researchers, and friends can view and share the image without repeatedly handling the original. It also gives you a backup should the physical photograph ever be damaged or lost.

Scan photographs at a sufficiently high resolution to capture the detail present in the original. Small CDVs and tintypes can contain considerably more detail than is apparent when viewing them in their original size. High-resolution scanning allows those details to be enlarged and examined.

If you do not have a scanner, a carefully made digital photograph taken with a phone or camera can still be useful. The important thing is to create a faithful record while the original is still in good condition.

Be Careful With Old Albums

Historic photograph albums present a special preservation challenge. Nineteenth-century albums may contain CDVs, cabinet cards, tintypes, and other photographs that were inserted into specially designed pages. Although it may be tempting to remove the photographs and reorganize them, doing so can destroy evidence about their original arrangement and relationships.

Whenever possible, preserve the album as an object. Digitize the pages and photographs, but avoid attempting to flatten, repair, or disassemble a fragile album yourself. Archival Methods recommends protecting historic albums with archival materials and, where appropriate, using buffered tissue between pages.

The same principle applies to old scrapbooks: don’t attempt a restoration project simply because something looks old or damaged. Stabilization and preservation are often safer than trying to make an object look new again.

Display With Care

Of course, historic photographs are meant to be enjoyed. Preservation does not mean hiding everything in a box forever.

If you want to display a particularly important photograph, use archival matting and framing materials. An 8-ply archival mat can provide more space between the photograph and the glazing than a standard 4-ply mat. This is especially useful for cabinet cards and tintypes because the photographic surface may have some depth or curvature.

Use UV-filtering glazing and keep framed photographs away from direct sunlight. Even with protective glazing, permanent display should be approached cautiously. Consider rotating photographs periodically rather than leaving an original on display for years.

Preserve the Photograph—and the Story

A 19th-century photograph is more than an old picture. It can be a piece of family history, military history, local history, or social history.

The best preservation strategy is therefore a combination of proper storage, careful handling, environmental control, and documentation. Identify the people pictured whenever possible. Record photographer information, dates, locations, inscriptions, and family stories associated with the image. Digitize both sides. Then protect the original using appropriate archival materials.

For collectors of Civil War photographs, these precautions are especially important. A tintype of an unidentified soldier, a CDV bearing a photographer’s imprint, or a cabinet card with a handwritten name may represent a piece of history that cannot be replaced.

You don’t need a museum vault to become the caretaker of that history. Keeping photographs cool, dry, protected from light, safely enclosed, and carefully documented can help ensure that the faces captured by 19th-century photographers remain available for generations to come.

Sources and Further Reading

RG 94 Spotlight: 49th Indiana Infantry

Posted on by Johanna Wickman

The Research Arsenal is proud to be digitizing and adding historical records of Civil War regiments held at the National Archives to our online database so that researchers and historians can access material that previously required a trip to Washington D.C. The 49th Indiana Infantry is one of the many regiments that has been added to our database.

The 49th Indiana Infantry: From the Mountains of Kentucky to the Gulf Coast

Regimental flag of the 49th Indiana Infantry. Flag in the collection of the Indiana War Memorial Commission.
Regimental flag of the 49th Indiana Infantry. Flag in the collection of the Indiana War Memorial Commission. Photo: https://www.49thindiana.com/about

When the Civil War erupted in 1861, Indiana answered President Abraham Lincoln’s call for volunteers with remarkable enthusiasm. Among the regiments raised was the 49th Indiana Volunteer Infantry, organized at Jeffersonville and mustered into Federal service on November 21, 1861, under the command of Colonel John W. Ray. During nearly four years of service, the regiment marched thousands of miles through Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, and finally back to Kentucky. Its soldiers endured disease, difficult marches, mountain campaigning, major battles, lengthy sieges, and occupation duty before finally returning home in September 1865. Although the regiment lost relatively few men in combat compared to some units, disease proved to be a relentless enemy, claiming nearly five times as many lives as Confederate bullets.

Learning Soldiering in Kentucky

The regiment’s first months were spent learning the routines of military life in Kentucky. After leaving Indiana in December 1861, the 49th established camps near Bardstown before moving toward Cumberland Ford, where Union forces sought to secure the strategic Cumberland Gap region. The harsh winter weather quickly became one of the regiment’s greatest adversaries.

One of the best surviving accounts from this early period comes from Captain John Alexander Ritter of Company G, whose wartime correspondence provides a vivid glimpse into camp life. Writing to his wife Margaret on February 16, 1862, Ritter described moving camp after a heavy snowfall:

“The snow fell about 4 inches deep night before last. We shook the snow off of our tents as best we could… At our new camp we had to scrape off the snow. We went up on the side of the mountain, got a lot cedar brush and put over the ground which looked very well.”

The simple description reminds readers that campaigning involved far more than fighting. Soldiers spent countless hours building camps, gathering firewood, constructing shelters, and trying to remain warm and healthy in miserable weather.

Witnessing the Cost of War

Stationed near the Tennessee border, the 49th Indiana quickly encountered refugees and Union sympathizers fleeing Confederate-controlled territory. Ritter’s letter conveys both his outrage and his belief that the conflict had become a struggle over justice as much as military victory.

He wrote:

“If there is a just God, the day of vengeance is not far ahead.”

Describing stories he had heard from loyal Tennesseans, Ritter continued:

“The tenth part has never been told… Men have been hung… Women have been shamefully treated. When oh when shall these things cease? My prayer is for my country that I love.”

Whether every story was accurate or reflected wartime rumor, Ritter’s words reveal how Union soldiers interpreted the conflict. Many increasingly viewed the war not merely as a campaign to preserve the Union but as a moral struggle against rebellion and violence.

The Cumberland Gap Campaign

Throughout the spring and summer of 1862, the regiment participated in operations surrounding Cumberland Gap, one of the most strategically important mountain passes in the Appalachians. Union control of the Gap promised easier movement between Kentucky, Tennessee, and Virginia. Although major battles were relatively few during this campaign, the soldiers faced exhausting marches across rugged terrain. Poor roads, steep mountains, shortages of supplies, and constant exposure proved nearly as dangerous as Confederate fire. Disease spread rapidly through the camps, becoming the regiment’s deadliest foe during its service in eastern Kentucky.

Into the Mississippi Valley

Late in 1862, the 49th Indiana was transferred west to participate in operations along the Mississippi River. The regiment joined Major General William T. Sherman’s Yazoo Expedition and fought in the unsuccessful assault at Chickasaw Bayou in December. Only weeks later, however, Union fortunes improved dramatically. In January 1863, the regiment helped capture Fort Hindman during the Battle of Arkansas Post, an important Confederate stronghold that had threatened Union river traffic. The victory boosted morale and prepared the army for the larger campaign that would soon determine control of the Mississippi River.

The Vicksburg Campaign

Monument to Indiana 49th, 54th and 69th Infantry Regiments at Vicksburg, Mississippi.
Monument to Indiana 49th, 54th and 69th Infantry Regiments at Vicksburg, Mississippi. Photo: https://da.mdah.ms.gov/series/573/detail/2550

The defining chapter of the 49th Indiana’s wartime service came during General Ulysses S. Grant’s Vicksburg Campaign in the spring and summer of 1863. The regiment crossed the Mississippi River with Grant’s army and fought in several of the campaign’s decisive engagements, including Port Gibson, Champion Hill, and Big Black River Bridge. These victories steadily forced Confederate Lieutenant General John C. Pemberton’s army back into the defenses of Vicksburg.

The 49th then participated in both of Grant’s costly assaults on May 19 and May 22 before settling into the long siege. For nearly seven weeks the soldiers dug trenches, exchanged fire with Confederate defenders, and endured the oppressive Mississippi heat until the city finally surrendered on July 4, 1863. The fall of Vicksburg split the Confederacy in two and secured Union control of the Mississippi River, making it one of the Civil War’s greatest strategic victories.

Service Along the Gulf Coast

Following the victory at Vicksburg, the regiment transferred to Louisiana, where it spent months performing occupation and expeditionary duty. During the Western Louisiana or “Teche” Campaign, the men conducted marches across difficult terrain before moving to Texas late in 1863. The soldiers spent several months stationed on Matagorda Island and near Indianola, helping secure the Gulf Coast against Confederate activity. In 1864 they returned to Louisiana to participate in the Red River Campaign, including fighting at Graham’s Plantation before withdrawing with Union forces after the campaign failed to achieve its objectives.

Veteran Service and Final Muster Out

Many members of the regiment reenlisted as veteran volunteers during 1864, earning a furlough home before returning to active service. Rather than participating in Sherman’s march through Georgia, the 49th spent its final months performing garrison duty in Kentucky, protecting transportation routes and maintaining order until the war officially ended. The regiment remained on duty for several months after Confederate armies surrendered before finally mustering out at Louisville on September 13, 1865. By that point, its soldiers had served almost four full years across much of the Western Theater.

Remembering the 49th Indiana

The service record of the 49th Indiana reflects the experience of many Western Theater regiments. While famous battles such as Vicksburg occupy an important place in its history, much of the regiment’s service consisted of long marches, camp life, occupation duty, and simply surviving the hardships of military service.

Captain John Ritter’s letters help preserve the human side of that experience. His observations about snowy camps, weary soldiers, and the suffering he believed civilians endured remind us that the Civil War was lived one day at a time by ordinary men trying to fulfill extraordinary duties.

The regiment paid a heavy price for that service. During the war, 1 officer and 40 enlisted men were killed or mortally wounded in combat, while 3 officers and 192 enlisted men died from disease, for a total loss of 236 men. Their sacrifice serves as a reminder that illness often proved as deadly as the battlefield itself, particularly in the armies operating across the South’s harsh climate and difficult campaigning conditions.

Sources

The Research Arsenal is proud to hold 580 digital scans of the 49th Indiana Infantry’s regimental history on its database. These consist of over 550 pages of material from the National Archives Records Group 94 files. These include a Regimental Descriptive book, Morning Report book, and Regimental Order books. Visit the Research Arsenal, click on “Search NARA Records” then select “RG94” and “49th Indiana Infantry” from the drop-down menus. In addition, the Research Arsenal contains letters, and other forms and documents relating to the 49th Indiana Infantry.

 

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