This letter was written by 53 year-old Lawson Davis (1808-1881) who enlisted in Co. I, 6th Wisconsin Infantry on 11 May 1861, representing himself to be a younger man. Well informed historians as well as avid Civil War history buffs will immediately recognize the 6th Wisconsin as one of the regiments that comprised the vaunted Iron Brigade, or “Black Hat” Brigade. Like so many of his comrades, Lawson was wounded in the Miller Cornfield at the Battle of Antietam. His wounds and age worked against his recovery, however, resulting in his discharge for disability on 14 February 1863 (his discharge papers gave his age as 43!)
Lawson was the son of Jesse Davis (1781-1867) and Charlotte Jane Brewer (1788-1864) of Framingham, Middlesex county, Massachusetts. He was married in 1832 to Jane Arnold (1811-1887) and moved to Glendale, Monroe county, Wisconsin, about 1851.
Lawson wrote the letter to his brother, Peter Brewer Davis (1813-1888) of Framingham. Peter’s two eldest children were Alfred Davis (b. 1846) and Adaline Davis (b. 1848) who are mentioned in the opening paragraph.
Transcription
Arlington Heights
November 23, 1861
Dear Brother,
I am well and hope you are all enjoying the same blessing. I received the letter that Alfred and Ada sent me. I think they improve just in writing and I should be pleased to have them to write often. Tell them to write all the news they can as you write but little.
Our regiment is getting small. Not a company that ranks more than 50 that is well enough to be on drill duty. 48 privates was the largest company that went to our Grand Review belonging to our regiment Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday last. We had our review 6 miles west of this Wednesday—115 regiments present. I suppose you have the news so I will not write what everyone knows. Perhaps you may think it strange why so many of our soldiers are sick while it is no wonder to me. True, we have plenty of everything and the sweetest quality. We have plenty of fine flour, bread as light as a cork which nothing but a goose can digest, but we have no vegetables of any kind. Let us have coarse bread and potatoes with our meat and you would see a difference in our ranks.
The [reason] why I am not sick or dead is I take care of myself by carrying a lump of rhubarb root which I gnaw as occasion requires. we have lost only four by death in our regiment. It is not known yet where we will winter. We remain in tents but hope to go with the next fleet down south. If not, we shall make us log shanties. There is plenty of timber here and not much else. The ground has frozen very little two or three times. The forts are getting bare and we are glad to hear that we are getting new foothold on their soil. I think the Rebels will draw their forces from here soon. They live in dens or masked batteries which can’t be seen 20 rods in the notches of the mountains. You hear of Washington, the Capitol of the Nation, and it has a few good buildings but very scattering. But as soon as you leave the city, you find the most wild and desolate country I ever saw so far as I have traveled. The roads are hardly fit for cattle to walk in. The river is about a mile wide and very swift water and navigable for nothing above the city.
Our [observation] balloon is in sight most every day. It is now 8 miles northwest of this and rises 7 or 8 thousand feet and overlooks the whole country.
Our captain and lieutenants are both sick and leave for home in a few days and about a dozen might as well go.
I got a letter from Henry last week. They are well and say they have got a boy. Give my love to mother and all the rest of the folks. Tell them I am learning the beauties on slavery for a soldier’s life is not much better than the slaves.
Yours in love, — Lawson Davis
December 7th 1861—I just received a letter from you and another from Henry. They are all well. You want to know what a soldier has to do. The drum beats at the break of day. We form a line and answer to our names, go half a mile for water, 40 rods for wood, cook 3 rimes a day, keep our alleys and streets neat as a parlor and other things bright as a pin. Take care of the sick and ourselves. Go a mile and drill three hours a.m. Go two miles p. m. march home to drill, stand on parade one hour, on guard one day every week, occasionally 3 times do our washing, mending, run and form a line every time and an officer comes from the city.
Last Sunday I made a furnace that does better than a stove in our tent. We brought the brick two miles in a barrow. Nearly every tent has one. We are a little city and declare ourselves independent.
I went to the City last Thursday over Long Bridge. Our regiment are out on picket guards 10 miles west. As I was on guard [previously], I am excused [today]. Long Bridge—the principle one of the city—I expected to be grand [but] on reaching it, I found it was just wide enough for two wagons, no sidewalks—no room for any, but teams are not allowed to trot so I managed by a sharp lookout to keep safe for about 80 rods when I found the bridge only 10 feet wide outsides. Here I was puzzled. This I done several times by climbing on top of the railing on the bridge several times just escaping the wagon hubs. After dodging along for about 30 rods, it was wide as two wagons—nothing over—I finally landed in the Queen City where I should think they keep plenty of liquors by appearances. One mile to the Capitol, northeast direction. On my way I saw several 3-story buildings, some 2, and some of them white-washed in worse order. I found the inside of the Capitol as grand as I expected to but I had not time to see half. The outside is not so grand as Boston Capitol nor the grounds around it. After looking around as long as time admitted, I started for home by the way of Pennsylvania street leading to Georgetown. The walks, paved streets, the houses are from 3 to 3-stories average not more than 2.
Three men tent with me. No fire in our tent and uncomfortably warm in our shirt sleeves. This is a good farming country; fruit of all kinds does well. I have seen peach trees twice as large as ever grew on your farm and in a thrifty condition and look as they are near a 100 years old. If this land is cultivated by Yankees, it will be worth something. The ground has frozen a little two or three times. Our first frost in the last week is now gone. No snow yet.
We are between two forts and I think we stay till we are discharged. The 7th [Wisconsin is a]side of us. We take turns going on picket. 3 days trip. My health is good as common and hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessing. I expect Wisconsin boys will be discharged and paid at Madison when the war ends or they will spend their money. Write again soon as convenient. Give my respects to all. Yours, — Lawson Davis
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