Research Arsenal Spotlight 78: Mahlon Thatcher 40th Massachusetts Infantry

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

Mahlon Thatcher joins the 40th Massachusetts Infantry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mahlan Thatcher in South Carolina

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Return to Virginia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 77: William Augur 7th Connecticut Infantry

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

The 7th Connecticut Infantry in South Carolina

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

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

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

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

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

William Augur on Recruitment Duty

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

William Augur at Olustee

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 76: Martin Culver 16th Connecticut Infantry

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

Martin Culver in 1862

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The 16th Connecticut Infantry in Virginia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The 16th Connecticut Infantry in North Carolina

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Research Arsenal Spotlight 75: Joseph Philp 161st New York Infantry

Joseph Philp was born in Crediton, England in 1843 to Joseph Philp and Ellen Ann (Hutchinson) Philp. The family immigrated to the United States sometime in the mid 1840s. He enlisted in October, 1862, and served as a corporal in Companies B and C of the 161st New York Infantry.

The 161st New York Infantry Prepares for the Red River Campaign

A Union camp at Morganza Bend, Louisiana. Joseph Philp and the 161st New York Infantry spent some time at Morganza during 1864.
A Union camp at Morganza Bend, Louisiana. Joseph Philp and the 161st New York Infantry spent some time at Morganza during 1864.

On February 28, 1864, Joseph Philp wrote from Franklin, Louisiana to his father. The regiment had spent the winter in Louisiana and was now preparing to embark on the Red River Campaign, though the soldiers knew little about their intended destination, or the exact time of their departure, as Joseph Philp detailed in his letter.

“You will be surprised to hear that we are again under marching orders, again to make our way up through to Red River. I do not know how soon we will leave this place but I presume in less than ten days as we are ordered to pack our knapsacks so that they can be sent back to Brashear City or New Orleans. I think they have given us a short rest but it is time if we should have this rebellious war brought to a close, the sooner the better for both sides.”

By this time Joseph Philp was halfway through his three-year term of service. In the same letter, he wrote about the current size of his company which was much diminished from the ideal strength of one hundred men per company.

“All of the boys are well as common, I believe. Our comp have increased since we got back here. We have now with us 42 men — all good for duty. Some days one or two get excused from duty but that is nothing. It does not stop the progress of the days work. Even if death takes a comrade, it is not noticed in our duty. It is one thing over and over.”

Joseph Philp wrote again on March 14, 1864, and revealed that the regiment was still at Franklin, Louisiana, although he believed they would leave the next day. He also assured his parents that his financial situation was alright and that, unlike other soldiers, he did not drink or use tobacco. He also reflected on the local women and his belief that they should hold off getting married until after the end of war.

“We have not got paid off in a good while so I could not send you any but will as soon as it is possible. There is four months pay due us by the time it is paid. I do not complain as far as I am concerned — only for you. I can get along without money for a good while but it is not a great many that say thus. One thing I do not use — tobacco nor intoxicating drink. Therefore, all I spend is in useful things to support the family. What I mean by family is I supply them in writing paper. Do not take me that I have a family in this southern clime. I do not intend to have one as long as a soldier I am. When I am clear from military discipline, then I can talk with some of the young gals either north or south. I do not intend to say I will get a wife north, but I will say it may be here in this state that I find a suitor. You know a person should not be bound to his own state for a lover. There is too much deceit afloat.

We have a great deal of sport here about the gals all wanting to get married so bad. I feel sorry for them — poor creatures. They all should be united to someone if it is to the lowest of the low for the war will take a good many of the poor soldiers lives. So I would advise them if they get married to marry a man that is exempt for he may have to go & leave their honeymoon and perhaps will lose his life. I would — if I were a gal — wait until after this cruel war is over. I could have a better choice though. I do not know. These soldiers are a hard lot of men but there is exceptions, I hope, in this as well as anything else.”

Joseph Philp Writes from Across the South

Unfortunately, there is a gap in Joseph Philp’s correspondence spanning the Red River Campaign. The letters resume in August, 1864, when Joseph Philp was enduring the heat of the summer at White River Landing, Arkansas.

“As we (161st [New York Infantry]) are about to leave here for a different part of the Mississippi, I thought I could but sit down & let you know that I am well as usual and enjoying myself first rate considering the warmth of the weather. Perhaps you will think it warm when you can put matches out in the sun & they will catch fire with the warmth of the sun. Why it is enough to melt a person right down. It affects everyone this summer. I know it does me for one. It never troubled me as it does this summer but I can work it through if it does not get any warmer & I have my health. The prickly heat bothers me now but not so as to make me sick.

The Altay boys are all well as common. I am glad we are agoing to leave here but I do not like the idea of going down the river. The gen[eral] opinion is that we are agoing to Morganza [Louisiana] to build an arsenal. I can hardly believe it. They only will tell a soldier. Of course our General knows our destination.”

By November, 1864, the 161st New York Infantry was in Columbus, Kentucky, and looking to set up winter quarters.

“Again I seat myself to say a few words to you. I am well as usual & enjoying myself first rate considering the duty we have to do. Since coming here, it is every other day with the privates & every third & fourth day with the non-commissioned officers. I do not know how long we will remain here but I presume all winter as there is plenty of duty to do. All the white troops there is here is our regiment & one small battery & there is one colored regiment.

We left Paducah on the 25th for this place. The rest of our brigade is there or was by last account. I am in hopes we will stay here all winter as it is getting cool weather. It is time if we are to go into winter quarters this winter. We got all fixed up at Paducah but it was of no use. We have got fixed up here with our fireplaces & stoves — those that have any ambition at all. A little fire comes good these cool nights. It will be cooler to us this winter than it was last as we are a good deal farther north, but it will be healthier for us than it was. The weather does not go by fits & starts.”

Despite Joseph Philp’s belief that they would make their winter quarters at Columbus (after a failed attempt at Paducah, Kentucky), the 161st New York Infantry soon moved south to Memphis, Tennessee. Joseph Philp wrote on December 2, 1864, that the regiment had purchased a large quantity of wood to prepare their quarters.

“You will see by this that we have again moved southward. I am not sorry as I knows of for it is a good deal warmer here than at Columbus [Kentucky]. But the worst of it was that we had to leave our good quarters & again rebuild.

We got here on the 30th & now all — or nearly all — have good tents as we all went to the different saw mills & purchased to suit our taste for a house paying $40.00 dollars per thousand. It is poor stuff at that. It is the opinion that we stay here for some time now. If not here, at Columbus. I do hope we will stay here now as we have got all fixed up again.

There is quite a good many troops here but they are all under marching orders to be ready to leave after the 4th of this month — I believe to go to Nashville, Tennessee to reinforce Gen. Thomas. I hope our luck has changed after so long a time.”

And yet even Memphis proved temporary. Writing three weeks later, Joseph Philp informed his parents that the 161st New York Infantry had moved to yet another state. This time he wrote on December 23, 1864, from White River Landing, Arkansas.

“You will see that we are in the same old regiment as we are all on the move continually. I do not know how long we will remain here but I should think not long. We brought our lumber along with us from Memphis so we had a better chance to get up tents again. We went into an old camp that had of been left by some other regiment so it was not so bad as it might be. I had lumber enough to build a house to suit myself so I did so — I and my tent mate — as two in a tent is enough to be comfortable. We have got a nice little fire place as usual. I have got so that I do not care how long they stay in a place. I am ready to go any minute. It is tough but fair. It will not last always I hope on my part or anyone else’s either, as we have but a few more months at most. Three years is long enough for me at one time. Let some one else try it.

The war looks better to me now than it has before in regard to coming to a close. I do not think it will close in less than one year but I hope it will come sooner. I would like to see it close while I am a soldier. Time will tell the story how soon it closes.”

Joseph Philp at the Close of the War

Aerial View of Fort Jefferson, Florida. Note that the seawall was not fully completed until 1872.
Aerial View of Fort Jefferson, Florida. Note that the seawall was not fully completed until 1872. Via Wikimedia Commons.

In the summer of 1865, the 161st New York Infantry was ordered to do duty in Florida. The regiment did not muster out until November, 1865, which gave Joseph Philp a glimpse of the postwar South. On July 23, 1865, he wrote from Apalachicola, Florida, with some of his observations.

“Everything is going on nice in this place. The wharfs are covered with cotton, the old store houses a being filled up with goods of various kinds, the stores are open that have been closed for the past four years, the citizens are coming in on every boat & there is four boats going up & down the river everyday fetching in peaches, apples, & melons, green corn &c. &c. &c. &c. and everything looks like peace once more. Everywhere the yanks goes, there comes peace and good will towards men. The soldiers are thought a considerable of here by a good many and not so much by some as there is always some that still hold fast to their evil wars but they will come to it in course of time.”

On August 14, 1865, Joseph Philp wrote from Fort Jefferson, Florida where the 161st New York Infantry was on guard duty.

“The boys are all well as common and in the best of spirits considering all in all & it is a good healthy place here. We get fresh beef three times in ten days and that is more than we have been in the habit of getting unless we were on the march. Then we got it all the time.

The prisoners like our regiment first rate. They treat a prisoners as he should — not as a lot of hogs — because they stumbled on their way and fell on this island. I do not believe in misusing a person because he is under your hands because you have power to do as you see fit.”

After mustering out, Joseph Philp returned to New York. He married Sophronia Abigail Knapp and lived until 1920.

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

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

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Alfred McClay of the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry and Edwin Perry of the 11th Rhode Island Infantry.

Research Arsenal Spotlight 74: Alfred McClay 114th Pennsylvania Infantry

Alfred McClay was just 16 years old when he enlisted in Company E, 114th Pennsylvania Infantry. He was born in 1846 to Aaron and Margaret McClay. Both his parents died young and he lived with his aunt and uncle, John and Emily (McClay) Ryner. In his letters he addresses his aunt as “mother.”

The 114th Pennsylvania Infantry in Maryland and Virginia

Photograph of an unidentified soldier (not Alfred McClay) of the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry which shows the regiment’s distinctive uniform.
Photograph of an unidentified soldier of the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry which shows the regiment’s distinctive uniform via Central Virginia Battlefields Trust.

After being organized in August, 1862, the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry was sent south toward Washington, DC, passing through Baltimore along the way. On September 9, 1862, Alfred McClay wrote home about two separate incidents related to gun safety in the new regiment, one of which resulted in tragedy.

“In Saturday morning one of the men in Company H, while cleaning his revolver, one of the barrels was accidentally discharged, the ball passing through his pants tearing them to pieces but didn’t graze the skin and went into the ground. In the afternoon, Corporal [John] Bell of Co. B while cleaning his rifle in the company’s avenue, there was one of his own men standing in front of him a short distance going through the manual of arms [and] not knowing the piece was loaded, he aimed at his [Bell’s] head and pulled the trigger, and to his surprise the gun went off, the ball striking to the side of his nose and blowing out his left eye. He was taken in charge of the doctors and on Sunday morning early he was taken to the hospital and was soon after reported dead.”

On September 27, 1862, Alfred McClay wrote about his regiment traveling through northern Virginia and setting up a post near Bailey’s Crossroads.

“But after I sent the letter I found out that the whole regiment was to go out on picket on Wednesday morning. We got our great blue overcoats. We formed in line early in the morning and I tell you what it is, we looked gay with our new coats. We started off with the band and drum corps ahead and went back the road from Arlington Heights. The band left off at a short distance and then the drum corps struck up. When we got back about half a mile where some of our men were stationed on the inside picket and didn’t know that we got our coats, they asked what regiment it was when someone replied that it was the forty eleventh Smith’s Island and many other names. For the first three miles all the way back to Bailey’s Crossroads it was nothing but one big hill after another, just like the Schuylkill Hill opposite to Rockdale and such a poor, deserted country you never saw. Here and there a house with the sides all knocked in and nobody living in them and nothing but weeds and briars growing—no vegetation anywheres.

We went about two miles beyond the Crossroads and then struck off on a by-road to the left. Our company had 5 posts besides the Lieutenant’s headquarters. Each post had 5 men and 1 corporal which made the watch easy. I was on the reserve force and kept with the Lieutenant all day.”

A Spooky Time on Picket

In October, 1862, the 114th Infantry was stationed below Arlington Heights, Virginia. That month, Alfred McClay wrote home about his sergeant’s rather unorthodox method of testing the readiness of the pickets.

“When I went on at 9 o’clock, it had stopped raining and was pretty light by the moon. The corporal and the men kept close together in case of danger. We had to walk up and down the path of 60 yards. We had to keep a good look out as the posts were a good ways apart. Our sergeant came around just before 11 o’clock to try the men on guard. He has on a pair of white leggings that come way up to his knees and had his coat sleeves rolled so as to make himself look like a ghost. I saw him when he was about 15 yards off. I challenged him thus, “Halt, who comes there?!” Bringing my gun to an arms apost as we usually do, I had it loaded too. He replied, “Friend,” with the countersign. I called out, “Advance friend and give the countersign.” He came up and give it within 4 paces of me, then brought my piece to a shoulder arms to leave him pass. He thought he would try to get my gun but he wasn’t quite sharp enough. He says to me, “How do you come to an arms apost?” I brought my piece to an arms apost again to show him. He says, “Let me show you how to do it,” and he reached out for my piece but I dragged back on him and exclaimed, “No sir!” He says that is right and passed on. He tried 7 men that way and got 4 guns out of the 7 but he didn’t report them. He scared one man pretty near out of his wits. He stood in the bushes along the so as the sentinel couldn’t see him when he within twenty paces he stepped out suddenly before him in the path, the sentinel called out, “Ha, ha, ha, halt, oh mercy, how you scared me, Sergeant. The Colonel came around with the grand rounds about half past 3. He asked our corporal what he would do if the rebels shelled the woods. He said he would try to get us out quick. The Colonel told him he should put his men behind stumps and then the shells would not hit us and if cavalry come, we could pick them [off] and if infantry come, to fall back to the reserves and charge on them.”

A week later, on October 13, 1862, Alfred McClay wrote about a difficult march the regiment endured, and how his Captain helped him by carrying his gun part of the way.

“We crossed the bridge at Georgetown and passed through the town. Coming through the streets on the rough stones bruised my feet so that I could scarcely walk. At last we got on the turnpike that leads direct to Poolesville. It [took] very near all day. It was pretty cool too. We reached Rockville about half past 4 that afternoon after marching 18 miles. We encamped in a fair ground that night. After we would sit down to rest a few minutes and then get up, we [could] scarcely stand on our feet. The Captain said that my knapsack was 3 times as heavy as it ought to [be]. My woolen blanket—part of it—was soaking wet and my piece of tent was wet which made it very heavy. Each one of us carried our own piece of tent. The Captain seen that I was pretty near give out and that I tried my best to get along. He carried my gun over 2 miles for me but I hung on and got up to the regiment as it stopped. Hundreds of men gave out and straggled all along the road. Some of the men throwed away nearly everything but I held on to everything but one blue and white shirt. The road was strewn with every kind of articles that the men throwed away.”

Alfred McClay at the Battle of Fredericksburg

Painting of the Battle of Fredericksburg depicting the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry by Carl Rochling.
Painting of the Battle of Fredericksburg depicting the 114th Pennsylvania Infantry by Carl Rochling via Wikimedia Commons.

On November 20, 1862, Alfred McClay wrote a letter datelined “on the road to Fredericksburg.” In it he described the recent capture of Confederate forces and a friendly fire incident with artillery that fortunately did not result in any loss of life.

“We have captured some prisoners and horses and have got a good many things by foraging parties of the secesh. On November 7th it snowed very hard nearly all day. We marched a couple of miles and went into the woods and stood in line of battle for a long while, knapsacks and everything, still snowing until we got so cold that we had to make fires but we had to be careful and not make big ones so as the Rebs couldn’t tell where we were. The artillery went to the front on a hill. In a short time, as we were sitting around the fire, some of the men cooking meat, and one thing or another, all at once we were startled by the stunning report of one of the pieces. The boys all jumped up expecting to be taken into a fight almost every minute. For seven times boom went the gun but they soon found out their mistake as the troops we fired on knew that we were Union troops and they raised a white flag. It was some of our own cavalry. The shells bursted all around them but by the Providence of God, not a man was hurt.”

Unfortunately, the good news didn’t last. On December 18, 1862, Alfred McClay wrote a short letter revealing that he had been wounded at the Battle of Fredericksburg and taken to a hospital in Washington, DC.

“I take this opportunity of writing to you to let you know that I am in the hospital at Washington. Dear Mother, last Sunday at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. I got wounded at Fredericksburg and was sent to Washington. I came last night.

Dear Mother, I got wounded slight in the side. I don’t feel very ill. It is only but a flesh wound. Dear Mother, I have no more to say at present but I would like to be home at Christmas if I could.”

While in the hospital, Alfred McClay was visited by another uncle, Joseph Coleman, as well as the uncle who raised him, John Ryner, who he referred to as “Pap.” On January 2, 1863, Alfred wrote an update about his condition to his aunt.

“Yesterday afternoon, just before I received your letter, the doctor sounded me and examined me closely. He says I am getting along pretty well. He says that at first my wound was pretty dangerous but it is alright now. He also said that I have got the palpitation of the heart. I asked him what was the cause of it and he said it was from hard marches. I asked him if he thought I would be fit for service again. He didn’t say yes or no but asked if I would like to have my discharge. I told him yes and he said that I could get it but I won’t say anything more about it as you don’t want me to.”

Sadly, the improvement in Alfred McClay’s condition didn’t last and after another surgical operation on January 11, he died on January 24, 1863.

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

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

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Edwin Perry of the 11th Rhode Island Infantry and Charles Walbridge of the 100th New York Infantry.

Research Arsenal Spotlight 73: Edwin Perry 11th Rhode Island Infantry

Edwin Perry was born in August, 1843, to Daniel Bliss Perry and Lydia Ann (Carpenter) Perry of Rehoboth, Massachusetts. Despite living in Massachusetts, Edwin Perry enlisted as a private in Company C of the 11th Rhode Island Infantry. He wrote his letters to an unnamed brother.

Edwin Perry at Miner’s Hill, Virginia and in Hospital

Headquarters of Company F, 11th Rhode Island Infantry at Miner’s Hill, Virginia.
Headquarters of Company F, 11th Rhode Island Infantry at Miner’s Hill, Virginia.

The letters in our collection begin in October, 1862 when the 11th Rhode Island Infantry was camped near Miner’s Hill, Virginia. The 11th Rhode Infantry was mustered into service on October 1, 1862 and left for Washington, D.C. on October 6.

On October 21, 1862, Edwin Perry wrote to his brother that the regiment was currently on the march though he did not know their final destination.

“Last night we received marching orders and early this morning after partaking of an early breakfast, this regiment together with the 133rd New York and 22nd Connecticut Regiments took up our line of march for this place. The weather was quite cool so that we were greatly favored in carrying our load which consisted of a well-stuffed knapsack, haversack, canteen, musket, and equipments with forty rounds of cartridges.

We reached this ground about ten o’clock this morning and after marching and countermarching for another hour at last halted on a turnip field and a orchard. By two o’clock we had our tent put up and now four o’clock all the boys excepting [Pvt. Orin F.] Munroe are asleep. He is writing like me.

We received orders not to be too particular about putting up tents as we were to march again tomorrow — some say further to the right — others toward Harpers Ferry — and others to our old camping ground and from thence to Washington and then to Port Royal. The latter seems to have the best foundation as two companies which were to go on picket duty after receiving their rations, packing their clothes, marching some distance were ordered back, and if we were going but a few miles in any direction, they would not [have] been recalled.”

In January, 1863, Edwin Perry was staying in the hospital near his regiment. He had apparently been there for some time and was working on regaining his strength. He wrote on January 8, that the Doctor had cleared him to return to duty but the head nurse wanted him to stay.

“I continue to gain strength with every effort. I have walked up to camp and back again every day for a week — some days twice as far.

The box you sent is a rich treat, I tell you. I am living high and sleeping in the hospital. Yesterday the Doctor gave me my discharge from this institution and told me to report at camp but the head nurse has took the responsibility of keeping me here a while longer. He thought I was not strong enough to endure camp life. I’d rather stay here a week longer than to go to camp [just] now. There has been another sudden change in the weather from warm to cold accompanied by high winds which are very uncomfortable on these high hills where the division is encamped.”

In the same letter, Edwin Perry detailed some of the afflictions of the other patients in the hospital.

“Yesterday they brought a man here who has had the fever and ague together with convulsions. During these times, it takes four men to hold him. This forenoon he has had one chill and four convulsions. He can not stand them a great while longer and live. When he is reasonable, he cries considerable and says he never shall get home. This a solemn sight but this is one of the fortunes of war. But a person gets used of these things seeing it continually before him. I saw a case of sympathetic mania today in the case of one of the patients. Soon after the man had passed through the convulsions, I spoke of this patient (who has the pleura pneumonia) was taken in the same way as other although not quite as hard. As I now write, one of these men is on the way to the General Hospital at Washington; the other will probably go tomorrow. They can’t go too soon for me.”

Edwin Perry at Camp Distribution

On February 8, 1863, Edwin Perry wrote from Camp Distribution near Alexandria, Virginia. At that time the 11th Rhode Island Infantry was doing guard duty at the Convalescent Camp, while Edwin Perry was on detached duty. The men at the camp had just recently been paid, leading to tighter security and to Edwin Perry sharing a joke about the greenback money they received.

“I like this detached service better than being with my regiment because here there are no dress parades, no knapsack inspections, and no guard around the camp to keep us in, besides numerous little things which we are not obliged to do here.

Since the regiment was paid off in February, the restrictions on the camp have been [made] rigid. No one can pass off or on without a pass. Bayonets will not stop the men as they would in Dexter training grounds but bullets will[…]

[…]Have you seen this conundrum? ‘Why is the government currency like the ancient Israelites?” — “Because they are the issue of Abraham’s and know not their redeemer.’”

Two days later, on February 8, 1863, Edwin Perry gave a description of the camp and the discovery of a man overrun by “strangers” which may have been a slang term for lice.

“The new camping ground is situated in a much pretty location than ever before, being located on a high table land overlooking the Potomac. Camp Distribution is situated on the north side of the road leading from Alexandria to Camp Convalescent. In a former letter, I wrote you that men sent to Camp Convalescent who are able to [perform] duty are sent from there to their regiments. This is not so, for they are first sent here and then under guard outside of the picket line to their regiments at the front. This camp we are now engaged in guarding — it is rather hard looking. It consists of common A tents, pitched on the ground with nothing but Virginia mud for the men to sleep on.

The remaining brigades of General McCall’s division arrived here yesterday morning but have not yet formed an encampment as they expect to move further. These men look rather the worse for wear. Some of them are sitting around the fire shivering with their blankets on. This morning the second and third relief were sent to take down some tents of long standing supposed to be unoccupied but inside they found a human being — if I may so call him — who was perfectly alive with many strangers.  His feet were frozen and when found, he could not stand alone. I presume he had looked for a place to sleep and had crawled in here where he was attacked by these strangers who perfectly unmaned him.”

On February 15, Edwin Perry wrote about the poor conditions of the camp and how the doctor did very little to attend to the sick.

“All those in the distribution camp have to sleep on the ground. This causes a great amount of sickness. The doctor who has charge of the camp does things up in a hurry. For instance, a morning at sick call perhaps a hundred men are drawn up in line waiting their turn. The guard lets in the first man.

Dr: What the matter with you?

Soldier: I have a severe pain in my side, Sir.

Dr: Give him some liniment. Next.

Dr: What’s the matter with you?

Soldier: I have rupture, Sir.

Dr: Who told you you had a rupture. There is nothing the matter with you. Like to go to the convalescent camp again suppose! Clear out! Don’t you let me catch you here again. If I do I will put you in the guard house.

This is the way he examines perhaps sixty men in an hour. In fact, he has now [no] more mercy for a man than I would have for a beast.”

Continued Guard Duty

Postwar photo of Edwin Perry of the 11th Rhode Island Infantry.
Postwar photo of Edwin Perry of the 11th Rhode Island Infantry via Spared & Shared.

Edwin Perry wrote more about guard duty in a letter dated  February 18, 1863. The prisoners he was tasked to guard were not Confederate prisoners of war but Union soldiers that had committed various offences. He also described how he was becoming more accustomed to sights that would have once made him squeamish.

“Yesterday it snowed all day and today the rain is carrying it off. I stood four hours yesterday in a snowstorm. And now let me say a word in regard to the three reliefs. The first and second go on at nine in the morning and stay until five at night at which time the third relief go on and stay until nine o’clock and are not again called out until five o’clock this morning. This gives us the whole night to sleep.

We have an odd way of keeping prisoners here. Two posts are placed firmly in the ground to which a rope is stretched across. To this the men are handcuffed. This gives them the liberty of walking back and forth perhaps ten feet.

We cannot get passes to go to Alexandria now except on business. My nerves are getting stronger so that I can look and see teeth pulled and dug out without my heart’s jumping. Dr. [Moses S.] Eldredge of our mess is doing considerable business. Yesterday he dug out a tooth while the person was under the influence of ether.”

In a letter written a week later, Edwin Perry made a rather humorous remark about the second lieutenant of his company who transferred to service in the navy.

“Our Second Lieutenant [Seth W. Cowing] left us today. He takes a position in the Navy. He could not go too soon so my best wishes are for his poor success. Lieut. [William A.] James has command here now.”

Edwin Perry continued to serve on guard duty. On March 11, 1863 he wrote about a recent visit to Fort Worth, located on Seminary Heights.

“Yesterday I paid a visit to Fort Worth beyond Fairfax Seminary. It is situated on the brow of a high hill overlooking a large valley. The fort mounts about thirty guns of which the largest throws a one hundred pound shot. The bed and carriage is constructed of solid iron. There are a number of large Parrott guns of beautiful workmanship. Besides these and some common sixty-fours, there are some eight mortars placed on massive beds of iron. There are also two pieces of light artillery bearing the inscription ‘Whitworth Guns Presented by the Loyal Americans in Europe to the Government of the U.S.’ You will remember of reading about this about a year ago. These are made of steel and are bronzed like a musket about ten feet in length and breech loading.”

Edwin Perry mustered out of the service a few months later on July 13, 1863. He married Ella Jane Moore in 1869. He died sometime after 1905.

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

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

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Charles Walbridge of the 100th New York Infantry and Abraham Crumbecker of the 32nd Ohio Infantry.

Research Arsenal Spotlight 72: Charles Walbridge 100th New York Infantry

Charles Walbridge was born in 1841 in Buffalo, New York. He wrote these letters to his brother, George Walbridge, who was named after their father. Before the war, Charles Walbridge worked for Pratt & Co., a hardware dealership. He enlisted in the 100th New York Infantry in September, 1861, and was appointed 2nd lieutenant of company H.

100th New York Infantry at Folly Island

On January 28, 1863, Charles Walbridge wrote from the Steamer Cahawba at Beaufort Harbor, North Carolina. By this time he had become captain of company H. Charles Walbridge knew the regiment would soon be moved somewhere, but their final destination remained a mystery. He hoped that the Union forces would soon seize Charleston and that that would be where they were headed.

“We have been all ready for sea for two days but have been delayed by a very high wind. The latest orders are to go to sea at high water which will be in about two hours (three o’clock). I intend to send this ashore by the pilot [boat] when he goes. I received the copy of your letter but not the original.

My trunk, instead of going home, got in with the baggage of the 8th New York and I received it all safe, thanks to having my name on it.

We are still in the dark as to our destination. My opinion is that it is not Wilmington. I think that it is nothing less than Charleston. Wouldn’t that be a big thing?”

The 100th New York Infantry went first to St. Helena Island before being sent to Folly Island, South Carolina. In a letter written April 18, 1863, Charles Walbridge gave the details of Union forces on the island, with the warning that the information should be kept confidential.

“I wrote a letter to mother the other day giving a detailed account of our doings. I mentioned at the tail of it that we were once more upon the noble isle of Folly. Nothing unusual has happened. We use extraordinary precautions against a surprise. We detail three companies every night to go out and support the pickets. Last night Co. H was on the duty. We had everything nicely fixed, I can tell you, and I was almost in hopes that a few rebs would come over so that I could get pay for the men I had wounded and captured. The enemy are in very strong force on James Island.

When we returned to this island, it was intended to evacuate, but day before yesterday, the authorities concluded to hold it, so I suppose we will be here some time. I believe we are to be reinforced. There are now but four (4) other regiments on the island, all of them smaller than the 100th, and a battery (of course it is needless to remind you that the figures which I give you, especially in the letter to Mother, should not be generally known).”

In the same letter he revealed his hopes at receiving a position as assistant quartermaster for the brigade, but did not think it likely do to the failure of the army to seize Charleston.

“I don’t suppose there is much prospect of my getting the position of A.Q.M. [Assistant Quartermaster]. If the attack on Charleston had been successful, I should have had much more hope, but I hardly think the Dept. at Washington will feel like bestowing any favors on this Department at present and i don’t myself think it deserves any.”

Charles Walbridge had previously spent some months detached from the regiment as a quartermaster.

Charles Walbridge in the Summer of 1863

Camp of the 100th New York Infantry on Morris Island, South Carolina.
Camp of the 100th New York Infantry on Morris Island, South Carolina.

The 100th New York Infantry remained on Folly Island for the summer and, as predicted, Charles Walbridge did not receive a position as assistant quartermaster. On May 10, 1863 he wrote about the recent order allowing some enlisted men to go home on a furlough and that he had selected four of the men in company H with families to receive them.

“Gen. [David] Hunter has issued an order that in accordance with the recent Act of Congress, furloughs will be granted to five percent of the enlisted men of each company, for a period not to exceed thirty days. I have accordingly recommended four of the “old stock” of Co. H, choosing those who have families as the first squad. As you may imagine, there was quite a commotion among the officers as well as men. I went down to the regiment to see about it yesterday afternoon and learned that Gen. [Israel] Vogdes was not going to grant leaves of absence to commissioned officers for the present. I am not quite certain as to the truth of the report, although I had it from the adjutant who is very good authority. I have had, and still have, strong hopes of getting home this summer. I should prefer to go home in July or August but of course would be only too happy to get a leave at any time. As there will now be three officers in the company, perhaps I will stand some chance if leaves of absence are granted.”

On July 29, 1863 Charles Walbridge described the activity around him and made an oblique reference to the recent attempt to capture Fort Wagner with his worry for two of the men in his company who had gone missing.

“Our troops are working hard on Morris Island, planting guns, erecting batteries &c. The rebels bother us some with their shells. They fire a shell almost every minute. From my tent door, I can see the whole field of operations. Wagner on my right, the Cumming’s Point with Battery Bee, then Sumter stands out plainly in the centre of the circle, then comes Mt. Pleasant — a village on the opposite shore of Charleston Harbor, while clear round to the left rise three spires of churches in Charleston. Besides this, I have a fine view of the sea with the blockading fleet, monitors, &c.

We have not heard a word from [Lt. Charles H.] Runckel [Runckle]  or [George N.] Clark, my orderly sergeant.  I fear they are both dead. I have sent over to the regiment for Runckel’s trunk. I think I will express it to you and you can find out his relatives and send it to them. I think he had a grandfather living in Buffalo.”

Both Charles Runckle and George Clark were killed in the Battle of Fort Wagner.

Preparations to Seize Fort Sumter

Photograph of Fort Sumter taken during the Union bombardment on September 8, 1863.
Photograph of Fort Sumter taken during the Union bombardment on September 8, 1863.

On August 6, 1863, Charles Walbridge related the story of the capture of another captain in his regiment, Lewis S. Payne of company D.

“We are getting along pretty well with the siege but are not quite ready yet. I think we will be in about a week. We have had a real misfortune; this is nothing else than the capture of Captain [Lewis S.] Payne [of Co. D]. He was captured in a small boat in Charleston Harbor night before last. He had some ten men with him. I believe they were all killed but one. He escaped and reports that Capt. Payne was not hurt. The Rebels were undoubtedly laying in wait for him. He has rendered very efficient service ever since we first came into this region. He is a personal friend of mine and one of the finest men I know. His absence will be a great loss. Only a few nights ago, he went into the harbor and waited until a steamer (which was known to be in the habit of coming down nightly with supplies for [Fort] Wagner) came down to that Fort, when he sent up a couple of rockets & skedaddled. Our gunboats which had previously been notified and had the range opened fire and drove away the steamer which has not been down to the fort since. The Rebs opened fire on Capt. Payne but didn’t hurt him; at last, however, his good fortune has deserted him.”

The records of the Adjutant General indicated that Captain Payne was later paroled but give no date as to win. But as Lewis Payne was commissioned lieutenant colonel of the 100th New York Infantry on November 9, 1863 (to date from June 20, 1863) it is likely that the parole was before that time.

On August 21, 1863, Charles Walbridge wrote about the Union bombardment of Fort Sumter and Fort Wagner.

“The bombardment commenced Monday morning and has continued ever since. The fire has mostly been directed at Sumter. The wall on this side appears to be half down. It is completely shattered. I think it can’t hold out much longer. Sumter does not reply to our fire at all. Night before last, Sumter fired her sunset gun (the first she had fired all day) and hauled down her colors. Did you ever see such impertinence? Her flag has been down half a dozen times but it is always raised again. The firing seems to be as heavy this morning as at any previous time. Everybody is very hopeful. I go whenever I can get time up into the maintop of a brig. which lays in the inlet and which I suppose is as good a point of observation as there is in the vicinity. From it, one can see the whole of Morris Island and Charleston Harbor, the fleet, and in fact the whole battleground, if I may so call it. Every minute or two a shot ploughs up the dirt in [Fort] Wagner, then a shell perhaps explodes over our own batteries. It is quite exciting to look at it.”

Fort Sumter was finally captured by Union forces after the Second Battle of Fort Sumter on September 8, 1863. Fort Wagner was abandoned by Confederate forces on September 7, 1863.

In February, 1864, Charles Walbridge was commissioned by the President as assistant quartermaster of volunteers with the rank of captain. A year later he was brevetted to major and was appointed chief quartermaster of the 10th corps. After the war he married Annie F. Noble and helped establish the Walbridge & Co. hardware firm in Buffalo, New York. He died in 1913.

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

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

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Abraham Crumbecker of the 32nd Ohio Infantry and Henry Murray of the 8th New York Light Artillery.

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 71: Abraham Crumbecker 32nd Ohio Infantry

Abraham Crumbecker was born in 1829 to Isaac and Hannah Crumbecker of Carroll County, Ohio. He was first married to Mary C. Eakin and, after her death, married Hannah Pennock. He was thirty-two years old when he enlisted in the 32nd Ohio Infantry in August, 1861. He was commissioned as 1st lieutenant of company A.

The 32nd Ohio Infantry in West Virginia

Photo of Abraham Crumbecker of the 32nd Ohio Infantry.
Photo of Abraham Crumbecker of the 32nd Ohio Infantry via Wikitree.

After being organized in Mansfield, Ohio, the 32nd Ohio Infantry was then sent to Grafton, West Virginia (still considered Virginia at the time) and then onward to Cheat Mountain. Abraham Crumbecker’s first letter was written on September 20, 1861, and he describes their journey so far, noting the Battle of Laurel Hill fought several months previous and that the regiment still about eighteen miles out from Cheat Mountain.

“We started from Webster on Tuesday for this place. In coming here, we came through Belington and Laurel Hill where our forces had a fight with the rebels at which place General [Robert S.] Garnett, the Rebel Commander, was killed. You probably remember of hearing me read of the Battle of Laurel Hill. Today we are encamped within 4½ miles of Rich Mountain—the place where the 19th [OVI] Regiment under Beaty had their fight. Mr. Yost pointed out the range of mountains today and if we stay here long enough, we are going up to see the place. We are now within 18 miles of Cheat Mountain Gap—the place of our destination when we were ordered to move from Camp Dennison, but upon arriving here we were ordered to halt and are now here awaiting further orders. The rebels have retreated from their former position. Well, yes, I suppose they heard that the 32nd Ohio Reg. was coming and we have the reputation of being a crack regiment. But I do not write the sentence for truth. I will say the boys are here and anxious for a brush whenever the opportunity offers.”

Abraham Crumbecker seemed to enjoy the posting on Cheat Mountain. On December 1, 1861, he wrote to his wife that they would soon be leaving it.

“When I last wrote you I expected ‘ere this we would have been moved off the Mountain as we had orders to move back to Beverly, Va.—a distance of 24 miles. Colonel [Thomas H.] Ford is now at Beverly and a large portion of our sick have moved there also. We expected to move today but yesterday received orders to remain here until Tuesday when our paymaster will be here and pay our regiment off–or for 2 months—after which I presume we will leave the Mountain. I almost hate to leave the Mountain. The weather is cold here but that is the kind of weather for me. I can stand the cold better than the heat. We have from 3 to 4 inches of snow here now and our boys have fine times hunting. The game here consists chiefly in bear (which are rather scarce), deer, and mountain hare as species of rabbits. I have a beautiful skin that I am going to bring home with me which will make Nora a beautiful muff.”

On January 10, 1862, Abraham Crumbecker wrote about his plans for the future, which included being in the role of aide-de-camp if his colonel was promoted to brigadier general, or being promoted to captain of his company in the weeks to come.

“I am still with Col. [Thomas H.] Ford. We both occupy the same office. I presume we will continue together, as long as I act as his Adjutant. There is strong hopes entertained here that Ford will be promoted to a Brigadier General. He told me if promoted that he wanted me to go with him as his “Aid de Camp.” This you need not show to any person from the reason that he may not succeed in getting a “Brigade” and that I have not yet determined whether I will accept the offer. My pay would be about the same as it now is, but I believe I would not be “Captain” of Co. A, which I think I can be in less than a month. I am waiting my turn which will and shall come, and just as soon as I get my situation secured, and can get an honorable leave of absence, I will come home.”

In March, 1862, Abraham Crumbecker did indeed become captain of company A.

Abraham Crumbecker in the Fall of 1862

In late summer, 1862, the 32nd Ohio Infantry was stationed at Winchester, Virginia. In a letter written August 3, 1862, Abraham Crumbecker hoped that President Lincoln’s call for 300,000 additional troops would lead to a speedy resolution of the war.

“I notice the President has given until the 11th of this month for the citizens to fill up the new call of 300,000 men. If not filled by that time, drafting will be resorted to. Then some of the gentlemen probably will be impelled to go. I think your news about Lee going to war is correct. I do actually think he ought to go and that immediately. The country now needs assistance and it is the duty of all Loyal men—especially young men—to volunteer their services immediately and not wait until they are compelled by draft to go, in which I think there is no honor or credit. But of course other people can do as they please and I am satisfied. One thing certain, the soldiers have been called for an must be had. I am satisfied we will have the most powerful army within the next 60 days the world ever saw and think this rebellion will be speedily and effectually crushed. At least I hope so. I feel anxious once more to enjoy the society of a dear and loving wife. Also the society of our dear little children.”

September proved to be a difficult month for the 32nd Ohio Infantry. The regiment was a captured at the Battle of Harpers Ferry and its Colonel, Thomas Ford, was later dismissed from the service after an inquiry found that he abandoned his defense of Maryland Heights without sufficient cause. The 32nd Ohio Infantry was paroled at Annapolis, Maryland and then sent to Illinois to await official exchange.

In November, 1862, Abraham Crumbecker wrote home to his wife about the large number of desertions that had happened while the regiment waited to be exchanged, estimating that they likely had no more than 300 men still at the camp.

“Efforts are being made in some instances to bring back the men that have deserted. With what success they will meet remains to be told. Our Regiment now only numbers about 300 men all told and I actually believe will not number over 200 in another week.”

Abraham Crumbecker at Vicksburg

Barracks of the 124th Illinois Infantry at Vicksburg.
Barracks of the 124th Illinois Infantry at Vicksburg.

The 32nd Ohio Infantry was officially exchanged on January 12, 1863, but Abraham Crumbecker’s letters don’t resume until July, 1863. By this time he had been promoted to major of the 32nd Ohio Infantry and the regiment was at Vicksburg, Mississippi. On July 9, 1863, Abraham Crumbecker wrote about the recent capture of the city.

“Our Division is likely to remain here. General Logan has command of the post and district. Our capture has amounted has amounted to more than was first anticipated. We have captured one Lt. General, 4 Major Generals, 9 Brigadier Generals, about 50 Colonels. and 30 thousand prisoners, over 120 cannon, and over 60 thousand stands of small arms. Our army is in fine condition and excellent spirits. The Rebels are demoralized and discouraged. Quite a number will take the Oath of Allegiance and come North. Provided our Eastern Army does its duty as I yet think it will, we will soon give rebellion its death blow and the Lord knows quite a number of the enemy would be glad of it.

The weather here is very warm although not as hot as I supposed it would be this time of year. We are now having green corn and I understand there are plenty of ripe peaches at some localities.

We have the report that Port Hudson has been surrendered but do not know whether the report is true or not, but one thing is certain, General Banks have the Rebels in the situation that we had Vicksburg and the place must soon fall it—if has not already—when we will for the first time in two years undisputed possession of the Mississippi from its source to its mouth and the States of Louisiana and Florida are virtually ours.”

A month later, on August 13, 1863, Abraham Crumbecker wrote that he had tried to tender his resignation but it had not been accepted. Evidently, he had discussed this in other letters to his wife which no longer survive.

“I wrote you a few days ago that I had tendered my resignation but that it had been returned disapproved. I have tendered it again. It is more than probable that it will be returned again disapproved. If such should be the case, I dare not tender it again for some time but as soon as there will be any chance, I will do so again. I have made calculations in coming home this fall to stay and if I should not succeed, will be very much dissatisfied. I am bound not to come until I come to stay.”

His resignation was once again disapproved. In December, 1863, Abraham Crumbecker was still at Vicksburg. Though he had given up on trying to resign from the service, he was firm in his desire never to reenlist as he wanted to return home to his family.

“It is my first winter in the South and if I am spared, it will be my last. I am perfectly content to remain the balance of my life with my dear and loving wife, and our dear little children. Let come what will or may. My mind is made up as to my ever again engaging in any undertaking wherein I will be deprived the opportunity of at least visiting my family whenever I please or being able to take them with me. You must give yourself no uneasiness about me re-enlisting for I tell you upon the honor of a man, I will not do it.”

Despite his own feelings about continuing in the service, on January 8, 1864, he wrote that the majority of the 32nd Ohio Infantry chose to reenlist.

“Over ¾ of our regiment has re-enlisted in the Veteran service, and the Regiment will be ordered to Ohio to reorganize and fill up the regiment. We expect to get started within the next few days but may possibly not get off quite so soon. After arriving at Columbus, Ohio, we will be ordered to our respective homes to recruit for 30 days. So you see after all, I will get home this winter on order which is much better than a 20-day leave of absence. I am making calculations and having a glorious good time. While at home and when I come, we will talk the matter over of my remaining in army longer than my term of enlistment. I do not expect to remain that long but I need not write anything about it as we can better understand each other when we talk than when we write.”

Ultimately Abraham Crumbecker served the duration of his initial three-year term of service and resigned on September 21, 1864. He died in 1899.

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

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

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like Henry Murray of the 8th New York Light Artillery and John Madison of the 96th Pennsylvania Infantry.

 

Research Arsenal Spotlight 70: Henry Murray 8th New York Light Artillery

Henry Murray was born in 1836 to John Murray and Jennet (Scott) Murray of Bovina, New York. Before the war he worked as a tinsmith. He enlisted in the 8th New York Light Artillery as a corporal on September 26, 1861.

The 8th New York Light Artillery at Newport News, Virginia

Artwork depicting the CSS Virginia.
Artwork depicting the CSS Virginia via Wikimedia Commons.

Henry Murray’s letters in our collection begin in March 1862, despite him having enlisted several months earlier. All of them were written to an unspecified brother or brothers, one of whom may have been John Murray who served in company E of the 144th New York Infantry.

After several months organizing in New York, the 8th New York Light Artillery left for Washington, D.C. On March 31, 1862, Henry Murray wrote about their march to Alexandria, Virginia and sleeping underneath their own artillery pieces.

“We are now in the land of Dixie within sight of the city of Alexandria and about a mile from it. We are encamped by the side of the railroad which leads to Manassas. We got orders to march last Friday about two o’clock and by four o’clock we were under march for Alexandria with Casey’s whole division. We crossed the Long Bridge a little after dark and kept marching until two o’clock in the morning when we encamped for the night. Taking the canvas which we have to cover our guns for beds, we laid down on the ground and slept until morning when I assure you, the camp presented rather an amusing appearance. Some were lying under the guns — others out in the open air with nothing but their blankets over them. Officers and men were all on a level then, and all glad to take mother earth for a bed and the canopy of heaven for a covering.”

A few weeks later, on April 12, 1862, Henry Murray wrote from Newport News, Virginia and revealed that the fort was dealing with some harassment from the CSS Virginia (rebuilt from the famed USS Merrimack), though the ironclad ship was currently keeping her distance.

“All is quiet around here this morning. The Merrimack [CSS Virginia] has not made her appearance again. No doubt she has made up her mind that she is safest to stay where she is as the large guns from the Fort gave her some pretty heavy guns before she got out of their range. We could see the shells as they struck the water around the old Merrimack. There was two English and one French vessels lying nearby at the time of the engagement. They were no doubt taking notes of the proceedings. They are heavy gunboats carrying some forty guns each. They have been lying near here for some time. We passed by them when we came down here.”

On April 15, 1862, Henry Murray wrote another letter from Newport News which described a fellow soldier being injured by his horse.

“There is not much news here at present. One of our boys got badly kicked yesterday by a horse. He was cleaning his horse when the horse turned round and kicked him on the head, knocking him senseless. He was taken to his quarters and the doctor called but he still remains insensible and was taken to the hospital at Newport News today. His recovery is thought doubtful. His name is [George D.] Eighmy. I think he was from Roxbury.”

George D. Eighmy (or Eighmie) was discharged for disability on July 16, 1862.

Henry Murray and the Battle of Yorktown

May 1862 photograph of Federal Battery No. 1 at Yorktown, Virginia.
May 1862 photograph of Federal Battery No. 1 at Yorktown, Virginia.

The Siege of Yorktown began on April 5, 1862. On April 26, 1862, Henry Murray wrote a letter describing preparations for a coming battle and the capture of a few Confederate spies.

“We were ordered out the other day to go and shell rebel fortifications that they were building about two miles from here. We started and got about a mile when we got news that the rebels had left so we had to return to camp without having a chance to get a shot at them.

There has been four rebel prisoners captured here yesterday. They were supposed to be spies. They were examined and their clothes searched and some papers found, sewed in their overcoats. What the papers were, I have not heard, but they are now confined in a log cabin a short way from our camp. They are rather suspicious-looking characters and I think if they are a specimen of the rebels, they are a degraded-looking race of men. They were dressed in uniform the same as our troops. In their knapsacks were found some clothes which were stained with blood (which they could not give a very strict account of). They are to be sent to McClellan’s headquarters for further examination.

Everything around here has the appearance of a rapid preparation for the coming battle which will soon take place at Yorktown. There is roads being made and fortifications being thrown up in almost every direction from here, and there is troops coming in around here by the thousands. Sickles’ Brigade is now stationed some five miles from here.”

Henry Murray sent his brother another letter on May 6, 1862, one day after the successful capture of Yorktown, and described a gruesome incident of a soldier being killed by a mine left behind by retreating Confederate forces.

“Before this can reach you the glorious news that Yorktown has been evacuated will have reached you. We are in pursuit of them. We left camp on Sunday morning about eight o’clock as the news came into camp that the rebels were evacuating. There was a heavy cannonading kept up all Saturday night but it stopped on Sunday morning before we left camp. we marched about two miles when we came to a small fort that had been left but a short time before by the rebels, but the old Stars & Stripes were waving over it when we arrived in sight of it, having been planted there by Gen. Casey. We did not stop at this fort but kept on about a mile farther where there was quite a strong and large fort. Near the fort were found several shells which were buried in the road with a cap placed on them in such a manner than when stepped on, they would explode. The infantry were in advance of us and — while near the fort — a shell was stepped on by one of them whereupon it exploded, killing him instantly — blowing him to atoms and wounding five others. They were in the 52nd Pennsylvania. There was several of those infernal machines found in and near the fort but were dug out before any more accidents happened.”

Further in the same letter, Murray described the state of the battlefield.

“We are now encamped by the forts and the battleground is but a short distance from here. I went through it after we got here, but for me to attempt to describe the sights that I saw — it is impossible. The dead were lying in heaps, men and horses were lying in all directions, guns were scattered around and other things beyond description. Our men were burying the dead but the rebel dead were lying unburied. There is hundreds of them scattered around the field and in the woods. What the loss of the rebels were I have not heard, but judging from what I saw, I should think it heavy as they did not leave the field until after night and no doubt buried many of their dead. What the loss on our side is, I cannot say. You will have an account of it, no doubt, before this reaches you.”

Onward Toward Richmond

After the successful Battle of Yorktown, Union forces pursued the rebel army through Williamsburg. On May 11, 1862, Henry Murray was riding high  off of the recent victory and hoped it would soon be followed by the capture of Richmond, Virginia.

“In my last letter which I wrote to you last Tuesday, I told you that we were then encamped on the battleground [at Williamsburg] of last Monday. We remained there until Friday morning when we again started on the march and this time it is, “On to Richmond” in reality. It is no longer the feeble dry of a few aspiring politicians and newspaper editors, but it is now the order of the Commander in Chief of the great Army of the Potomac and, with him at its head, we are now moving slowly but surely to the city of Richmond — and, in a few days, we will be in possession of that great Capitol of the Southern Confederacy which so long has been the boasted stronghold of the rebels, but which must soon fall before the onward march of this great army. And then, when the old Stars and Stripes are again floating in triumph over that rebellious city, we may consider this rebellion as nearly at any end for with Yorktown and Richmond in the hands of the government, it will be impossible for them to make a stand anywhere in Virginia.

It is said that the rebels are going to make a stand some twelve miles from Richmond and that they are now throwing up fortifications and making every preparation for a desperate battle. But very likely it will turn out like Yorktown — when our forces are ready to make an attack, they will evacuate for I think from the appearance of their forts in front of Yorktown that if they could not make a stand in such forts, it will be impossible for them to build stronger forts before this army reaches there.

We passed through Williamsburg on our way here. It is a small village and everything in it gave evidence of a hasty retreat. In the streets were to be seen wagons, forges, and ammunition chests having stuck in the mud and were set on fire or cut to pieces to prevent them falling into our hands. Horses and mules were lying on the road dead as we came along this side of Williamsburg, and as we came along, we met several who had deserted from them and they say that rebel soldiers are getting disheartened and are almost in a state of mutiny.”

Henry Murray’s high spirits continued in another letter written outside of Richmond on May 19, 1862.

“We are within eighteen miles of Richmond. The rebels were here where we are now encamped last Saturday but retreated as our troops advanced. They are nary nine miles from here and it is said they are going to make a stand at that place which no doubt is true. And in all probability before this reaches you, there will have been a decisive battle fought and the City of Richmond will be in our hands. It is reported here that the rebels have a large force at that place but yet I doubt not but the result will be a glorious victory for the Union forces.”

Despite Henry Murray’s optimism, it proved to take almost three more years before the Civil War finally ended. Henry Murray served for the duration of the war, receiving a promotion to sergeant on August 15, 1862, and reenlisting as a veteran in 1864. He mustered out with the rest of the battery on June 30, 1865. He died in 1905.

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

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

If you enjoyed this article, check out some of our other featured collections like John Madison of the 96th Pennsylvania Infantry and Robert Browne of the 100th Pennsylvania Infantry.

Research Arsenal Spotlight 69: John Madison 96th Pennsylvania Infantry

John Madison was born in 1864 to Anthony and Harriet (Dick) Madison of Pottsville, Pennsylvania. Before enlisting in the army, he worked as a blacksmith’s apprentice. He enlisted in company A of the 96th Pennsylvania Infantry on August 22, 1861 and was a fervent believer in both God and the Union cause.

96th Pennsylvania Infantry in Virginia

Photo of John Madison of Company A, 96th Pennsylvania Infantry.
Photo of John Madison of Company A, 96th Pennsylvania Infantry via Spared & Shared.

John Madison wrote his first letter in our collection on November 18, 1861, from Camp Casey, part of the defenses of Washington, D.C. In the letter he affirmed his strong conviction for the Union cause as well as his religious faith.

“It is not probable that we will get into the battle [but] if we do, we will fight to the last. We will fall with our faces towards the enemy for ’tis glorious to die for your country. If it happens to be my lot not to meet you again in this world, I hope to meet you in a greater and better world where we know no cares or sorrows. We have our Bibles with us and we do not forget them.”

On December 22, 1861, John Madison wrote from Camp Franklin, Virginia, describing a recent run in with rebel forces that resulted in several men being captured.

“On Wednesday I was about one half of a mile from the pickets and the day before that they shot at our pickets and drove them back and the rebels were drove up in line of battle to fight, but the pickets would not stand for that too strong for them. And last week there was thirteen of our men taken prisoners. They thought that the rebels was our men and the captain that was with them. Our men came to present arms to him and he came up to them and said ‘disarm yourselves, for you are our prisoners of war.’ So you can see for yourself that we know not who is our enemy for they go about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. And our pickets went through their pickets last night and burnt down the houses and someplace I do not know the name of the place.”

Confederate forces continued to plague the 96th Pennsylvania Infantry throughout the winter as illustrated in John Madison’s letter from January 1, 1862.

“I received your letter in due time and was glad to hear from you all as we have just come in from picket and are very tired. We went out on Saturday at 8 o’clock in the morning and just got back. From Saturday to the present we had about 4 hours sleep for in the night we had to watch the guard for the rebels come up to our picket and take them away. But thank God, they did not get any of our men. We could see them everyday on their horses from where we stood. Everything was quiet till Sunday morning and then we heard a shot and we formed a line of battle and then we sent a dispatch off to the guard to see what was the matter with the pickets. I was about thirty yards away from the one they shot. It was some of the rebels trying to get through the picket to get the center line.”

John Madison Hopes for a Furlough

On January 23, 1862, John Madison was hopeful that the war would soon be over. He believed that the Confederate forces were losing faith in their cause and that Union sentiment was on the rise.

“By last accounts in the papers, our cause is gaining a firmer and better hold in Kentucky and in fact all over. And when a move is made, the overwhelming forces of the North will sweep like a prairie fire and deal the secession its last and final blow, and will annihilate disunion. The Southern Confederacy has seen its best days. The people all wish to return under the protection of the stars and stripes. They have been led astray by men whose sole object is burn, pillage, destroy. The time is at hand when all volunteers times is expiring for they were duped into the rebel service for 12 months and promised that in that time they was to occupy all the cities north of Mason Dixon’s line. But they were promised—that is all. They have found out to the contrary. So might it be.”

In February, 1862, John Madison learned that his mother had gotten very sick. On February 10, 1862 he wrote home that he had applied for a furlough so that he could return to Pennsylvania and visit her.

“I applied for a furlough last night for to come home, but it will take a week perhaps for to get it for it has to be signed by General McClellan and sometimes it take two weeks—then he doesn’t sign them then. But I hope that he will sign mine but if you have not sent the note from the doctor when this reaches you, I want you to send it as soon as you can so that I can apply again, if he [McClellan] does not sign this one. And as for the money, I can get enough to come home and back again without much trouble. So you can send the note from the doctor and I will be home as soon as I can get a furlough.”

Unfortunately, the furlough arrived too late and John Madison had already been informed of his mother’s death before the furlough was approved. On February 28, 1862, he wrote to his father explaining that his furlough had been approved, but he no longer planned to come home as he thought it would only make things worse.

“It is with sorrow that I let you know that my furlough has just come in this morning, and as it has been so long in coming in, I shall not come home for if I would, it would just make it worse than what it is. For since I cannot see Mother no more on this earth, I must trust in God so as to meet her in Heaven and may God help you all.

As soon as I got the letter that John Riggs sent to me with the notice that Mother had gone to rest, I went to the Captain and told him that Mother was dead. Then I want to get home, but it was impossible, so I think it is best for me to stay here and content myself the best way I know how. I am well at present and hope that these few lines may find you the same and all the family.”

John Madison and the Battle of Bull Run Battlefield

Officers of the 96th Pennsylvania Infantry.
Officers of the 96th Pennsylvania Infantry.

The first Battle of Bull Run was fought on July 21, 1861. John Madison wrote home on March 15, 1862, about what some of the men in his regiment saw on the battlefield. Nearly eight months later there were still unburied bodies lying on the field.

“We left Fairfax last night about 7 o’clock and marched into camp which is about 16 miles. We had to drill yesterday and then we got orders to march to camp again. And tomorrow we have got to go someplace again but we do not know where to yet. But we heard that we was to reinforce Burnside for we have got Manassas and intend to hold it. And if we reinforce Burnside, we will make them leave a little more than what they have done. It was good for them to leave Manassas for if they hadn’t, we would give them their last pill—they would be done for.

Some of the men saw Manassas and they say that the rows of our men lay there unburied. Some of the men went to work and buried them for it was a hard sight to see them lying there to dogs and crows to eat of them. It made the men [feel] more like running to them and whipping them but never mind, they will get paid for it yet.”

The 96th Pennsylvania Infantry remained near Fairfax, Virginia and the Bull Run battlefield. In late March, 1862, John Madison wrote another letter home that the Confederate forces had burned bridges and withdrawn but that they expected to follow them soon. His faith in the Union’s eventual triumph remained unshaken.

“Well, I am at Fairfax Court House. It is all deserted. Everybody has left the place for they was afraid of the strong army which started on Monday for Bull’s Run. But we was disappointed when we hear of them leaving Bull’s Run. Our men have been out at Bull’s Run and seen it and all the bridges were burnt down somehow. So we have to wait until they get them built again. But we think in a few days we can go ahead for Richmond.

I saw a Rebel prisoner today that was taken yesterday. He looked hard for they have poor clothing to wear. But we will soon give them free if they think that they can whip us which I think they cannot for they do not like to stand to fight for they know that they are whipped. And I think in about a month, it will all be right again so we must trust to one that is mighty to save and strong to deliver so in God is our trust and Union is our motto.”

Tragically John Madison only had a few months more to live. On July 22, 1862, he died of typhoid fever in the regimental hospital near Harrison’s Landing, Virginia. He was buried near the hospital but later exhumed and taken back to Pennsylvania.

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

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