This letter was written by James Franklin (“Frank”) Robbins (1843-1890) who enlisted on 26 August 1861 to serve three years in Co A, 55th Illinois Infantry—sometimes called the Canton Rifles. According to his enlistment record, he stood 5 feet 7.5 inches tall, had light hair, gray eyes, and gave his occupation as “farmer.”
Frank was born in Newport, Penobscot county, Maine, in 1843, the son of John Robbins (1803-Aft1870) and Edee S. Robbins (1806-1880). James survived the war, and by 1870 had become a “sculpter” meaning, I believe, that he carved memorial headstones.
In this letter, Frank describes his traumatic experience of passing through his first battle at Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh. It would prove not only to be his first, but his last. Frank was discharged for disability on 12 June 1862.
Robbins wrote the letter to Mrs. Kittie C. Laderach whom he calls his “dear friend” and apparently only recently married. The only woman I can find by that name was Catherine C. Hubel (1843-1919) who came to Bay City, Michigan with her parents, Christian and Susan (Pickel) Hubel, to St. Clair county, Michigan. She was married in December 1861 to Rudolph Laderack (1833-1893) and lived out her days in Michigan raising at least six children.
[Note: This letter by and image of James Franklin Robbins are from the collection of Austin Sundstrom and are published by express consent.]
Transcription
Canton, [Fulton county, Illinois]
July 1, 1862
Mrs. Kittie C. Lodarach
Dear friend,
It is a long time since I have written to you but once more I take my pen in hand to write a few lines for your perusal. I have written to you twice since I received any from you and should not write again if I thought you got them and did not answer them.
I am at home now having arrived from St. Louis on Sunday last where I have been in the hospitals for the last 6 weeks. I was in the Battle of Pittsburg [Landing]. I came out alive but a little the worse off for a piece of shell struck me in the breast. The fragment’s force was nearly spent and did not break the flesh but I spit blood for some time after this and the exposure to cold and rain nearly put an end to my existence. Perhaps it would have been better if it had.
I was sent from there to St. Louis. From there I came home and shall remain for some time—at least until I get well, if I ever do, which is rather doubtful as my lungs are affected.
Poor John Banks 1 was shot dead in the commencement by a miníe ball and was buried on the field. Poor dock 2 was wounded in the leg and afterwards killed or taken prisoner, I don’t know which, for I have never heard from him. Poor fellow. I often wonder what became of him. We had an awful hard battle and came near being defeated but were not quite, but it cost the blood of thousands of good soldiers.
Katie, you cannot imagine the horror of such a battlefield as that of Pittsburg. Oh! to hear the groans and shrieks of the dying as the iron and leaden hail showered among them and brought them to the ground. Oh! to see the human being torn and mutilated—their blood running in streams. Oh! how weak is pen or human tongue to describe the scene. But enough of this. Perhaps you will laugh at me for expressing my feelings as I do.
I hope you are all getting along well and I hope to hear from you soon. I want you to write as soon as you get this if you are not mad at me still and if you are, write anyhow and let me know it. And if you wish me not to write to you as a friend, tell me so. The exposure to a Southern sun and great fatigue have altered my looks greatly. I hardly look like the same being that I was 10 months ago. Mother informs me that you want me to send your likeness. I shall not do so until I get another letter from you to be certain that you live where you did. Then I will send you the one with Christian’s in it. I will also send you your other one if you demand it on condition that you send me mine. But you can use your own pleasure about that. If you do not want to keep it, send it to me and yours shall be forwarded to you immediately. If you do keep it, we shall be even in that respect. I have got my likeness and dock’s taken which I sent home to mother last winter. They were taken without dress uniforms on.
Mother says she has not got time to write to you now but that she has written you two letters and asks if you have received them. She says she would have sent you your likeness before this but she has not got any letter for some time from you. But I will tend to that matter now as soon as I get an answer from you.
I have not been around amongst the neighbors yet, therefore I can’t tell you much about them—only Mr. Luckeys’ folks—they are all well except George 3 whom I left in St. Louis hospital sick. He had a stroke of the palsy and has lost the use of his left arm. But no more at present. I hope you will excuse me for troubling you with so long a letter. Goodbye for the present I remain your true friend. — J. F. Robbins
Write soon and direct as you used to to Canton.
[Poem]
Please excuse me for writing such a fool [ ] of stuff. I just wanted to try my poetical skill. Don’t get made at it.
Tell Christian to write to me. I have not time to write to him now. Give my best respects to your husband and tell him I say he must be a good husband to you and you must be a good wife and do all you can to make him happy. Remember me an old fool who had better been shot in battle.
1 John Milton Banks was the son of Nathaniel Butler Banks (1801-1878) and Anna Barbara Artman (1809-1893) of Buckheart, Fulton county, Illinois. He served with Frank in Co. A, 55th Illinois Infantry and was killed at Shiloh on 6 April 1862.
2 I’m interpreting this name as “Dock” but if this is a nickname, I’m not sure who it refers to.
3 George Luckey was a corporal in Co. A, 55th Illinois Infantry. He was also from Canton, Illinois. He was discharged for disability in July 1862.
Spared & Shared 22 