These letters were written by Austin Able Spaulding (1843-1925) who enlisted with his brother, Leonard Erastus Spaulding (1840-1915) in Co. G, 14th New Hampshire, in August 1862. Leonard was enrolled as a private while Austin was enrolled as a musician. Both soldiers survived the war and mustered out with the regiment but Austin was wounded on 19 September 1864 in the 3rd Battle of Winchester.
This Library of Congress image of an unidentified drummer isn’t even wearing the uniform of the 14th New Hampshire but appears to be about the same age as Austin Spaulding.
The Spaulding brothers were the sons of Richard Spaulding (1804-1883) and Nancy French (1811-1856) of Jaffrey, Cheshire county, New Hampshire. After their mother died in 1856, his father remarried to Elvira Stratton.
After the regiment was mustered in at Concord, it was sent in October 1862, to Washington, D. C., where it camped on East Capitol Hill before establishing winter quarters at Poolesville, Maryland. From November 1862 to April 1863, the 14th NH served picket duty along the upper Potomac River. In April 1863, the regiment moved its quarters to Camp Adirondack, in northeast Washington D. C. From April 1863 to the end of the year, the 14th NH performed guard duty at Old Capitol Prison, at the Navy Yard Bridge (Benning’s Bridge), and the 6th Street Wharf. In early 1864, the 14th NH briefly performed picket duty in the Shenandoah Valley.
The regiment returned to New Hampshire to vote in the spring elections which were heavily contested. On March 16, 1864, the 14th N.H. departed for Louisiana to participate in the Red River Campaign, but arrived after it had ended. The regiment served at Camp Parapet, Carrollton, and Jefferson City until June 1864, when they returned to Virginia. The 14th served at Fortress Monroe and Berryville in Virginia until the end of July 1864. From August to December 1864, the regiment was part of General Sheridan’s Army of the Shenandoah, and participated in the Third Battle of Winchester, on September 19, 1864, with heavy losses at the Battle of Fisher’s Hill on September 22, 1864, and the Battle of Cedar Creek on October 19, 1864. Sergeant Major J. Henry Jenks, from Keene, New Hampshire, was the last man from this unit to fall in battle on October 19, 1864, in the Battle of Cedar Creek. At the conclusion of the Civil War, the 14th NH was stationed near Augusta and Savannah, Georgia. On July 8, 1865, the 14th New Hampshire Volunteer Regiment was mustered out in Savannah.
I received a letter from you last Saturday night. Glad to hear that you are well. How does school go this winter? Does Albert learn well this winter? How does he like the teacher? How do things go in the church? How do the people like Mr. Batchelder’s wife? How does the Sabbath School get along this winter? Does Mr. Batchelder teach the class I was in? How do the ringers get along? Do they have any ringing meetings this winter?
I have heard a story about Lizzie Gibbs that surprised me very much. I heard that she had been stealing. I should as soon thought of hearing that the minister had been stealing. I hope it is not true. How is it? Do you know? If you do, please write about it when you write.
I am on guard today. It snows fast. The snow is four inches deep now. Lieut. Tolman is well again. He is the officer of the guard today. Those verses that Ermina Campbell sent were good verses. Give my respects to her and all the rest of my schoolmates and friends. I had a letter from Evander French last Saturday. He is at work for Col. Pierce it seems. He did not write much. He never said a word about Preston. Preston is quite well again and in fine spirits. I have not heard from Edwin for a good while. I shall expect a letter from him tonight. Shall be very much disappointed if I do not.
I don’t know as I have any news of any consequence. I think the prospects of the war are quite as favorable now as they have been for a long time though I think they are not very extremely bright now. Leonard wrote to father yesterday so I suppose you will get both letters the same mail. Leonard had a letter from Cousin Sarah last week. Please give my respects to Mr. Batchelder. Tell him I should be very glad to receive a letter from him.
I have been making rings out of some gutta-percha buttons that I got at the store in Poolesville. They make very pretty rings. I have one I shall send to you when I get it done. I am very much obliged to you for that comb. It is just the thing. I must close for my time is most up. Give my love to father, mother, and Albert. Accept a large share yourself. From your affectionate brother, — Austin A. Spaulding
Letter 2
Addressed to Dea. R. Spaulding, Jaffrey, N. H.
Washington D. C. August 30, 1863
Dear Father,
It is Sabbath afternoon and a lovelier day never was seen. The air is clear and the sky is bright, and it is not hot. I have nothing to do this afternoon except to write and read. It is very still in the barracks. Most of the boys are writing or reading. As I am not on duty today, I had the privilege of going to meeting this forenoon. Albert P., Edward Cutter, and Sanford Hardy went with me. we went to Dr. Clark’s on West Street. The sermon was a very interesting one. Today is communion at Dr. Clark’s. I wanted to stay very much but the communion service did not commence till two o’clock and my pass expired at two o’clock so I could not stay. If I had known it was communion day, I should have got a pass for all day. I have been to meeting four times since I came to 6th Street Wharf. I go every other Sabbath.
The 6th Street Wharf where Austin’s Company was standing guard in August 1863. Not only was this the wharf most often used by the Army of the Potomac to bring in wounded soldiers but we learn that it was also used by the President and his cabinet.
The news has been good now for some time. Yesterday’s paper says Fort Sumter is a shapeless mass of ruins. Fort Wagner is also taken and Gen. Gilmore is shelling Charleston with Greek fire. I hope when he gets Charleston he will lay it in ruins.
I had the pleasure of seeing Old Abe the other day. 1 He came down to the wharf with several officers and went on an excursion down the river. We have a chance to see a great many officers here. They come here to take the boat for Alexandria. They go down to the Army of the Potomac by this route. There are hundreds of them pass every day.
I think the hot weather is over. It has been very cool for several days. There has been frost here. I think the nights are colder here than I ever knew them to be at home at this season of the year. I was on guard last night and it was so cool that I was cold with my dress coat and blouse on. If I had known that we were going to stay here, I should not have sent my great coat home. I need it very much now to wear when I am on guard nights. It’s so near the water that as the nights grow long, they grow cold and chilly very fast. I don’t know but I could get along without it a while longer, but I don’t dare to put it off for they say there is great danger of catching the chills at this time of the year so I would like to have you send it as soon as you can conveniently. I want you should send my undershirts that I sent home and if mother can mend those drawers, I would like to have them sent. If you have any that you can spare, we should like to have you send some butter and cheese. I don’t know as it is cool enough to send butter so far. you know better than I about that. I suppose apples begin to be ripe by this time. Anything that comes from home is a great luxury for we don’t have only about one meal in six that s fit for a New England hog to eat. You would direct a box the same as a letter.
I have just received a letter from [sister] Lizzie. Glad to hear that you are all well and prospering. Sorry to hear that the wheat is no better this year. Hope the corn will be good. Wish I could be at home now to help you do the harvesting. How does he stock prosper? I think you got a fine price for the lambs. How do the hens lay? Does the horse look as well as usual this fall? How many hogs have you got this fall and what are you going to have for beef this winter. How does Michael Fitzgerald get along? does he raise as many potatoes as he used to? Do the squirrels trouble the corn any this fall? I would like to take my old double barreled gun and go out some clear morning about 9 o’clock and pick off a few greys. I hope that before another year rolls round, I shall be at home enjoying the pleasures that I am now deprived of and about which I now often think.
Give my love to mother, Lizzie, and Albert. I had a letter from Edwin about a week ago. Please accept this with much love from your son, — A. A. Spaulding
1 Austin is no doubt referring to an excursion that Lincoln took on Friday, August 21, 1863, in company with Secretary of War Edwin Stanton and some military officers. The entourage went down the Potomac River aboard a steamer in the afternoon to visit the defenses of Washington opposite Alexandria, Virginia. [Source: Lincoln Log]
Letter 3
Washington D. C. October 25th [1863]
Dear Mother,
I received a letter from Lizzie a few days ago. I presume Leonard has answered it before now so I will write to you. Leonard has had the diphtheria. He is getting well fast. He will soon be able to come to 6th Street again. He is now in the hospital. He has probably written all about it before now.
My health is pretty good now. This morning I went to a Presbyterian Church. It was communion day today. The service of the communion was not without running the risk of being picked up and put in the guard house so I did not stay. I believe it is communion day in Jaffrey but I am not certain. Lizzie wrote that they were trying to raise money to get an instrument for the meeting house. How do they make out? I hope they will get one. I suppose Mary Perkins plays as usual. Do you have a full choir now? I would like to spend my Sundays at home.
Mr. Charles Stoughton was in this city last Wednesday. He came here to see me. I got a pass and went up to the city with him. He gave me quite a bundle of tea. I received a letter from Edwin Friday. He is well. I can’t think of any news hardly.
How is father getting along with the fall work? I think you have got a nice lot of chickens. Tell father to save a good fat one to send out to us about Thanksgiving time in case we do not go down front between now and then and I don’t think we shall go front this winter. I think they cannot spare us here.
We do not get much war news now days. Gen. Rosecrans appears to have been removed. Gen. Hooker has a command in the army again, so generals rise and fall.
Next Wednesday is my 20th Birthday. It don’t seem as though it could be that I was 20 years old. How fast time passed away. We have got a stove in our house now. We put it up yesterday. It makes it seem cheerful and comfortable. If we stay here this winter, we shall have a pretty good time. We talk of getting some lamps and using instead of candles. We can commute the candles and take the money to pay for the oil.
Yesterday it rained hard most of the day. Today the weather is cooler. we probably shall have cool weather now.
There is lots of wharf rats round here. They come in here nights and into the workhouse, Night before last we killed nine of them and night before that we killed two. Things go on as usual here at 6th Street [Wharf]. A few das ago a lot of big bugs went down the river in a steam on a pleasure excursion. Have you heard anything about Preston lately? The last I heard from him was that his folks had received his clothes but did not know whether he was dead or alive.
One year ago tonight the regiment lay in line of battle on Adder Hill 1 It is the only time we were ever in line of battle. The next day it rained hard and we had nothing to eat and not tents enough to keep us dry. We have had rather of an easy time during the past year compared with most of the soldiers, yet we have seen some pretty rough times. I hope we shall not have to stay a year longer but I presume we shall for I think the war is in a good way to last a year longer though I think it will not much more than a year.
Contrabands come up the river every once in a few days. There are lots of them in the city. Give my love to father, sister, and Albert, and accept a good share yourself. write all the news. Excuse all mistakes and accept this hasty letter from your affectionate son, — Austin A. Spaulding
1 Adder Hill was a bluff overlooking Lock 21 on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal about 20 miles from Washington D. C.
Letter 4
Bolivar Heights, Harpers Ferry, Va. February 11th [1864]
Dear Father,
I guess you wonder why we don’t write to you. Will I will tell you. You see we are no more in Washington. I intended to have written before we left the city but we left so sudden that there was no time to write. I received your kind letter containing the dollar and the postage stamps. We had heard then that we were going to New Orleans [and] I thought I would not write till i found out certain whether we were going or not. One week ago last Monday night, we were relieved at 6th Street [Wharf] by invalids and marched to camp. As soon as the regiment could be got together, we started for the Baltimore Depot where we arrived about4 o’clock Tuesday morning. We started on the cars for Harpers Ferry where we arrived about 12 o’clock Tuesday night. We were sent on by order of Gen. Sullivan to a place where the rebs had made a raid a day or two before and partly destroyed a bridge on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad.
About noon Wednesday, the cars stoped and we got out and pitched our tents near the railroad. We were then about 92 miles above Harpers Ferry. We stayed here till Saturday night when we received orders to pack up and be ready to leave in 15 minutes. We got ready, fell in line, stacked arms, and waited for the cars to take us to Harpers Ferry, but the cars did not come so many of us pitched our tents and laid down and many laid down without tents. Sunday morning the cars came and we were soon on the way to Harpers Ferry. We arrived at Martinsville about 4 p.m. where we stopped to change cars and then went on. Martinsburg is a desolate-looking place, only a few houses but have been burned. We arrived at Harpers Ferry at 8 p.m. We laid in the cars over night.
Monday we marched onto Bolivar Heights and pitched our shelter tents. Tuesday we had to send out men on picket and men for fatigue duty. It is most bitter cold here on this hill and to live in a shelter tent with the frozen ground for a floor is rather hard after being quartered in a house with a stove and good bunks. But I have stood it first rate so far.
Yesterday I was on fatigue duty all day. Today I am not on duty. I shall be on duty tomorrow I expect. We have a good deal of duty to do here. We expect to move from here to a better place where we shall have A tents.
“Harpers Ferry is the most horrible place I ever saw. It makes me think of the destruction of ancient cities. There is hardly a house here than has not been burned. There are no people of any consequence here.”
—Austin Spaulding, Co. G, 14th New Hampshire, 11 February 1864
Harpers Ferry is the most horrible place I ever saw. It makes me think of the destruction of ancient cities. There is hardly a house here than has not been burned. There are no people of any consequence here. We have had only one mail since we left Washington. I received a paper from Eliza Gage. When you will get this [letter] is more than I can tell. I shall send it as soon as I can.
Before we left Washington, I sent home a Bible and some other things in a box that Lewis Learned sent home. His folks will leave the bundle at the Union Store. It is directed to you. Please keep the things for me till I come home. I have read the New Testament through by course, and had began the Bible but I could not carry the Bible very well so I sent it home.
We are temporarily attached to the 3rd Brigade, 3rd Division, 6th [Army] Corps. I got a paper yesterday. The news is good. I don’t think of much more to write. Please excuse mistakes and accept this from your affectionate son, — Austin
P. S. Give my love to Mother, Lizzie, and A.
Letter 5
Harpers Ferry February 17th 1864
Dear Sister,
I received a letter from father a few days ago. I will answer it by writing to you. We are still in Harpers Ferry. We are quartered in A tents. There are 5 of us in a tent. The weather is very severe. Indeed, I think it has been colder for a few days past than it has been before this winter. Leonard and I were on guard last night. The wind blew very severely and it was tremendous cold. I suffered more last night and this morning than I have before since I’ve been in the army. I have hardly been out of the tent today. The wind does not blow quite so hard this afternoon. We have a fire place in our tent and we have got it warmed up so we are quite comfortable. I think it was rather too rough for the 14th to be taken out of good winter quarters and put them into tents, on the ground, such weather as this, but we have got to stand it. I have stood it so far better than I expected to. I hope warm weather will come before long or else that we shall leave this miserable place. We never have been in such a miserable hole as this before.
Soldier’s A tents on the grounds of the armory at Harpers Ferry. John Brown’s “Fort” in background.
We are close to the place where Old John Brown made his stand. We send out pickets for three days and also scouts with four days rations. Albert Pierce and four others from our company are on picket now. We are not expecting to stay here long. I suppose we are liable to move any day. We have been ordered to Washington since we came here but Gen. Sullivan could not very well spare us so we were allowed to remain longer. Some think that as soon as some of Gen. Sullivan’s regiments that have gone home to reenlist get back, that we shall go to New Orleans. They say that the order for us to go to New Orleans has not yet been countermanded. We cannot tell much by camp stories where we are going. They will send us about where they take a notion.
I wish you could see Harpers Ferry. You have no idea what a deserted place it is. I think Harpers Ferry has received a pretty severe punishment for the death of John Brown. Albert wrote that Lizzie Cutter was married and about to start for Kansas. I should like to have seen her fter she was married. I suppose she has got a smart man. I hope they will be prospered. Is Mr. Guild giving us a missionary or is he going to preach in some particular place?
Father wrote that cousin Fred was going to be married this week. I think today was the day. I haven’t heard from Fred’s folks for some time. When you see any of Fred’s folks, give them my respects and tell them they must not forget the soldiers.
Have you heard anything from Preston lately? I have not heard from him for a long time. The last I heard from him he was at home. How do Uncle Luke’s folks like their new place? If you see any of them, give them my respects. How does Dr. Fox come on about his taxes? Ad how does the ministers salary come out this year? I presume father has received the letter I wrote when we first came here. I wrote that I had sent a Bible and some other things in a box belonging to one of the Learned boys and his folks are to leave the package at the Union Store. You will see by the writing in the Bible that it is a present from Josie. I could not carry it very well on a march so I sent it home the first chance I had. When you get the Bible, instead of keeping it as I wrote to father, I want you to give it to Vrylena Shattuck and I will be much obliged to you. The fatigue cap and night cap you may keep. My paper is most full and I must close. Leonard is well. We send love to you all. From your affectionate brother, — Austin A. Spaulding
Letter 6
Halltown, Virginia August 25, 1864
Friends at home,
I have a short time which I will use in writing to you. Leonard received a letter from you last night. I have not yet had time to read it but I will write a few lines to send out in the mail this morning which goes in less than an hour.
My health continues good. The next day after I wrote my last letter our army was attacked by the rebels and a sharp fight occurred between them and the Sixth Corps. We worked all Sunday p.m. fortifying and in the night fell back to Halltown for fear they would get between us and Harpers Ferry. We have fortified ourselves here on the hills and the rebs are between here and Charlestown. There is some firing most all the time between the skirmishers.
Yesterday there was a brisk fight about noon—not more than three or four regiments were engaged on our side. There were eight killed and wounded on our side. I think we took about 200 prisoners. I was in plain sight of a part of the skirmish. There is some firing most all the time. Our regiment was at work in the trenches all day yesterday. I was on guard last night. We are in camp today. 1
I wrote in my last letter for you to send a box of pain extractor. I wish you would send me two more—three in all, 25 in boxes, they are handier to carry than a larger box.
We got good news from Grant yesterday. I suppose you get all the news long before we do. I presume you have new potatoes a plenty to eat now and all other good things, apples included. By the way, have you any stockings on hand? I have only the pair I have on and they will be gone in a few weeks. If you could send me one pair some time in the course of a month, they would be very acceptable. It will cost only a trifle to send them in the mail.
This will be a short letter but perhaps it will be acceptable under the circumstances. Cousin Preston is with us again. He is pretty well now. I must close for want of time. Our love to all. Please accept this from your brother, — Austin
1 “After the Battle of Summit Point on August 21, 1864, Union General Philip Sheridan’s troops were at Halltown and Confederate General Jubal Early’s settled outside of Charles Town. In the next days Early tested Sheridan’s defenses at Halltown and decided to move towards Shepherdstown. Early left General Anderson’s force at Charles Town on August 25th and took the rest of his men towards Shepherdstown, meeting Union resistance along the way. First Early encountered cavalry under Wilson and Merritt and after a skirmish the Union cavalry retreated towards Shepherdstown while Early continued to Kearneysville. At Kearneysville, Early’s force met another Union resistance but was able to force the Union troops to retreat towards Halltown. The Confederates made it to Shepherdstown on the evening of August 25 and during the night the rest of the Federal force in that city retreated across the Potomac at Pack Horse Ford. Because the Union troops at Shepherdstown retreated, Early decided not to stay there and to return to their camp at Bunker Hill. ” [Source: Clio]
I could not find an image of Altus but here is a CDV of Samuel Craig who also served in the 77th New York Infantry. He was mortally wounded in the Battle of the Wilderness. (Dana B. Shoaf Collection)
This letter was written by Altus H. Jewel (1841-1910), the son of Asa B. Jewel (1782-1870) and Sarah W. (1798-1849) of Gansevoort, Saratoga county, New York. Jewell enlisted at the age of 21 on 8 September 1862 as a private in Co. E, 77th New York Infantry. He was promoted to full corporal on 31 July 1863 and to full sergeant on 28 January 1865. He mustered out of the regiment on 27 June 1865 at Washington D. C.
Jewel’s letter is full of interesting, lengthy and detailed information. He describes camp life in the most entertaining terms, and then describes witnessing President Lincoln’s visit to the Army of the Potomac, as well as the birth of a baby by one of the soldiers in the 31st New Jersey Infantry!
Camp near White Oak Church Stafford County, Virginia April the 10th, 1863
Dear Father Brother, Brother & Sister
I now take my pen to write a few lines to let you know the condition of my health. It is good. Hoping these few lines will find you the same. I have not had a letter from you in some time. The weather is warm and pleasant. It looks like rain tonight again.
Well, since I commenced this I have been out on Brigade Dress Parade. The whole Brigade was out—six regiments of us. Brigadier Gen. Howe & Neill was out. We still lay here in the same old camp. There is no more signs now of leaving than there were the day that we first encamped here. We begin to think that it is home here. When we go out on picket, we can hear the boys telling about going home meaning to camp. The officers are putting on more good airs than a country tavern. [We] have to black our boots for Dress Parade and Inspections. And if a man comes out on inspection with dirty clothes or a dirty gun, they fine him a dollar. Our tents have to be kept clean, our blankets aired every day, & about every three or four days we have to take our tents and let the insides of them air. I think that they mean to make a Regular Army of us yet.
We shan’t complain as long as we lay here and don’t have to march or fight. We sometimes think that it is useless to go to so much trouble but it is not the case. It is just what makes us tough and healthy. I will tell you what we drew yesterday. We drew five days rations. It consisted of salt pork, bacon, fresh beef, coffee, sugar, turnips, potatoes, beets (we never have drawn turnips & beets before). Besides all this, we will draw beans, molasses, and a loaf of warm bread a day. We do not draw rice very often.
Now for the reasons that the soldiers have drawn it until they are sick of it. If it is drawn and cooked, they won’t eat it. I had rather have a spoonful of sugar than a hundred pounds of it. The soft bread, potatoes, onions &c. have been the making of this army this winter. The hard tack we get have so much brine in them to preserve them that they will soon burn a man. I have drawn them where they were white on the outside with brine.
I will now tell you what I have seen for the last week. We were on picket and could see across the river, or the Rappahannock. We could see lots of encampments & could see the Rebs drilling too. The next day but one after we come [back to] the regiment, [we] went up west of here near Falmouth on Review, this being Wednesday last, and were reviewed by Gen. Hooker & Old Abe. I was on Camp Guard and did not go. I saw Gen. Doubleday & his wife pass that day. The next day being Thursday, I saw the sight—it was Lincoln and his wife. They were in a covered wagon drawn by four horses, & his son—he was not as large as Perry & was riding a horse. He was a real nice-looking fellow. They were followed by General Hooker, Sedgwick, and other generals and officers too numerous to mention that we did not know. They went down toward Belle Plain to review some troops there. When they come back, we gave three cheers for them—-first for Old Abe, then for Hooker, & then for Sedgwick, & then we had to give three cheers for Little Mac. I don’t know what Hooker thought of us for giving three cheers for McClellan but he is the first and the last man that the Army of the Potomac will waste their breath cheering for, but we would cheer three times three if we could get him for our commander again.
I will now give you a small circumstance that happened in the 31st New Jersey Regiment a few days ago. 1 In Doubleday’s Division there is a person in the regiment that come out with it when it first started who went up the Peninsula in front of Richmond, retreated back with the Potomac Army when the Seven Days was, crossed the river with them into Maryland & at the Battle of Antietam was wounded. While at the hospital it was discovered by the steward of the hospital that this person was a woman. When she got well of her wound, she returned to her regiment again. The colonel of the regiment was informed by the hospital steward of what he had discovered but the colonel of the regiment did not make it known to anyone else. A few weeks ago, they went out on picket (she had been promoted to corporal) [and] while they were on picket, this corporal was taken sick. She—or he just as you may have it—went to a private house that was near & had a daughter born. You may think that this is a big story—-it is, but it is a true one. It was as much surprising to the company that she belonged to as it is to me or you. The company had noticed that she always tented with one person and many times when it was her turn to come on duty that her tent mate would take her place, but they had never noticed anything in her countenance or appearance to make them mistrust but what she was a man.
Saturday the 11th. The sun is shining bright and pleasant this morning, seemingly much like spring. Today is the day set by the general for wash day but I washed my clothes a few days ago so that I have not got to wash any today. There is nothing more of importance to write. I put a letter in the office yesterday for Sarah. She sent me her photograph. It looks natural but I think by the likeness that she is very poor or it may be that it is because I am use to seeing fleshy folks here.
I am out of postage stamps again & have borrowed some at that, & I am out of money. When you write, send me five dollars. Put it into a letter between the paper. I don’t know when we will get our pay. We have been expecting it for the last month & expect that yet, but it may be six months before we get it. Write soon and often.
This is from your brother-in-law & son, — Altus H. Jewel
New York Sunday Dispatch, 12 April 1863
1 Though the story about the female soldier may be true, Altus seems to have his facts incorrect as to the soldier’s regiment. The 31st New Jersey was not even mustered into the service until 17 September 1862 (the day of the Battle of Antietam), and they did not join the Army of the Potomac in Virginia until January 1863 when they were brigaded with other New Jersey regiments and the 137th Pennsylvania under the command of Brig, General Gabriel R. Paul in Reynold’s 1st Corps. A search of period newspapers yielded the following story which bears such strong resemblance to Altus’s story that I’m confident they were referring to the same soldier. Curiously, however, the article says nothing of a baby being born which may have been an exaggeration of the story.
“Another romantic Incident of the War. A letter from the 49th [New York] Regiment adds one to any romantic incidents of a similar nature connected with the present war. A few days since, a corporal of the 20th N. Y. Regiment, the camp of which adjoins that of the 49th, was taken sick, and had to be placed in the Regimental Hospital, where, in the course of attendance upon the sick soldier, it was discovered that a female form had been concealed under his corporalship’s jacket and trousers. The woman had been with the regiment since it first entered the field, two years ago, her sex never suspected. Of course, there was love at the bottom of the affair; but it detracts somewhat from the romance of the story to learn that the adventurous Amazon has been tenting all the time with her lover.” — New York Sunday Dispatch, 12 April 1863
There are a couple of recent articles appearing on the web that refer to an unnamed New Jersey woman whose “military bearing” and “gallant conduct” in battle so impressed her senior officers that she was promoted from corporal to sergeant—shortly before she gave birth! [See “Union Blue, Confederate Gray but with a Dark of Pink” and “I wanted to do my Part”] These stories probably originated at the time that Altus wrote his story home but the lack of specificity in name and regiment leaves me dubious as to its accuracy. There was a woman named Elizabeth A. Niles from New Jersey who claimed long after the war that she served with her husband in the 4th New Jersey Infantry but her sex was never discovered by others in the regiment. There is a list of confirmed Female Soldiers who fought in the Civil on Wikipedia and I have not found a woman among them that seems to fit the profile of this story.
This letter was signed by a Union soldier named “Jake” which was mostly likely short for “Jacob.” I feel reasonably confident that he would have been a member of the 147th Ohio Volunteer Infantry (OVI)—a 100 days regiment mustered into the US Service in the summer of 1864—but there are nearly a dozen soldiers by the name of Jacob in this regiment so I have not not been able to narrow it down.
Lt. Benjamin Langston of Co. D, 147th OVI (Dale Niesen Collection)
The 147th Ohio Regiment was organized at Camp Dennison, Ohio, 16 May 1864 to serve 100 days. It was composed of the 25th Ohio Regiment and Eighty-seventh Battalion, Ohio National Guard, from Miami county. On the 20th of May, the regiment started for Washington City. Upon arrival, it reported to General Auger and was ordered on duty at Fort Ethan Allen. On the 27th of May, four companies were ordered to Fort Marcy. On the 1st of June, Co. A was detailed to perform guard duty at Division headquarters and remained there during its term of service. At midnight on June 11th, the regiment was ordered to Fort Reno. Marching as far as Fort Stevens, the 147th Ohio moved into the trenches as support to the 1st Maine and 1st Ohio Batteries. In this position, the regiment remained until the 4th of July when it returned to Fort Ethan Allen. On 23 August, the regiment was ordered to Camp Dennison and they were mustered out on the 30th.
In this letter, Jakes informs his sister that he was an eye-witness to the Early’s attack on Fort Stevens and that “Old Abe was in the fight.”
President Abraham Lincoln at Fort Stevens during evening attack by Rebs on 11 July 1864; the chimneys of the house burned can be seen in the near distance.
I will try and write you a small letter this pleasant afternoon to give you a little information of what has transpired since I wrote you the last letter. I suppose there is a letter on the way but we have not had any mail this week until last night and then we had out a few as there was so many they could not distribute them in Washington.
I suppose you have heard about the Rebs being down here and attacking Washington. The first skirmishing we heard was last Sunday and then there was skirmishing until Tuesday when early in the morning they began their bloody work of fighting. They continued the fighting more or less all day. I was out on picket that day. We had a nice view of the battle—that is, the portion we could see. The smoke ascend[ed] in black, heavy clouds and occasionally [we could] see a shell burst in the air. A little before sundown, the rebels made a charge on our men, but they fired their large siege guns and the Rebs were drove back with heavy loss. Such a noise! it shook the very earth.
Old Abe was in the fight. Some of the Reb’s sharpshooters were concealed in a house and they was shooting at him and he told our men to set it afire. It was a house cost several thousand dollars. That was about dusk. The flames shot upward and the conflagration illuminated the country for miles around. The kept up their firing until after nine o’clock when it gradually died away. It was a very pleasant evening. The moon was shining brightly and it was almost as bright as daylight.
As I was walking my beat, I thought of home. I wondered what you folks were doing. Everything was quiet except the hooting of the owl and the solemn note of the nightingale and the noise of the cavalrymen as they galloped back and forward on the outer picket lines. But while there was everything so quiet here, what a scene of carnage and bloodshed was there 5 miles from here at Fort Stevens. There some were lying on the ground wounded, dying, and filling the air with their shrieks and groans. They had no smooth pillow to rest their feverish brow. They had no tender hand to refresh their parched lips or to administer to their wants. But such are the evils of war. The rebels then retreated that night and they have not troubled us since. We was expecting an attack here but I think they have skedaddled.
We are very busy now. I have not slept in the barracks for two weeks. I was on picket three nights right along. Night before last, we slept in the fort on our arms and last night our company was out on interior picket, so you may think we are on duty every night. If I get three hours sleep is all I care about now. We have lots of sport still on picket. We just wrap blankets around us and lay on the ground and sleep as sound as if we were on feathers.
Well I have not time to write much. You can look for us at home about the 10th or 15th if nothing else happens. David Tighby [?] is in the hospital. He is very sick but he is a little [better] this afternoon. I believe William telegraphed to his father this morning. The rest of the boys are all well and I am also well and I hope this may find you enjoying the same. Write soon. My love to all. Your brother, — Jake
I could not find an image of Henry Joy but here’s one of James Bailey who also served as a young officer in the 3rd New York Cavalry.
These notes were retrieved from the field ledger kept by Henry S. Joy (1840-1881) of Rochester, New York, who served in the 3rd New York Cavalry during the Civil War. Henry entered the service in August 1861 and was quickly commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant and Battalion Quartermaster. He was promoted to a 1st Lieutenant in September 1862 and served as the Regimental Quartermaster until December 1863 when he mustered out. He then returned as Captain of Co. M in the same regiment.
Henry was the son of Sidney B. Joy (1807-1852) and Emily C. Joy (1807-1886) of North Java, Wyoming county, New York. After the war, Henry returned to New York and engaged in the furniture business in LeRoy. He was a Democrat in politics and served as an assemblyman representing Wyoming county after the war. In 1881, a newspaper notice informed readers of the Buffalo News that Henry had “become insane on board a steamer when returning from Florida” in May of that year and was “pronounced incurable and taken to the Utica Insane Asylum.” He died a month later.
Most of Henry’s papers have been donated to the U. S. Heritage and Education Center.
Lt. Henry S. Joy’s Field Ledger (Greg Herr Collection)
Transcription
Went to Chain Bridge August 20 [1861]. Visited the camp of the 33rd [New York], Col. [Robert F.] Taylor. In the afternoon witnessed a review by General McClellan of General [William F.] Smith’s Brigade [Division]. The 31 Regiments composing the brigade [Division] were formed into line—open order—and McClellan and staff rode through scrutinizing closely every man. He is a fine-looking man but has been so much exposed to the hot August sun that he is bonzed like a Texan.
President Lincoln [and] Secretaries Seward, Cameron, and Chase were also present and witnessed the firing of the battery which commands the river and the bridge. Lincoln is as rough and unassuming as when he was an ordinary lawyer in Springfield, Illinois. “Pigmies perched on Alps are pigmies still!”
Secretary Seward I have always had a great curiosity to see which was fully gratified. He is a different-looking man than I had imagined him to be with a full-leaf Panama Hat which concealed the whole of his countenance but his interminable & exhaustless nose. He resembled a moderate sized toad sitting under an overspreading cabbage leaf.
Secretary Chase is a fine-looking man and has a look of intelligence. Of Secretary Cameron I could not look at him without thinking of Pennsylvania Railroad Speculations and what excellent roads they were to transport the soldiers to Washington—superior to all others in the Union. And then again, what great facilities his friends in Philadelphia had for manufacturing clothes &c. &c. No other city could begin with it. And besides, what an excellent place to select Generals from—excellent—glorious institutions of ours and giants to administer the government.
Sunday, September 1, 1861—A beautiful day here in Maryland. Everything has the appearance of war. Regiment after regiment are to be seen on every hand. Some two miles from where we are encamped through a romantic country is a fort surrounding a small brick church which is perfectly enclosed by a high embankment of clay and soil with a big ditch in front so as to render it inaccessible to outsiders. 1 Two miles from there to another, mounting several large guns. And the trees for several miles around have been axed to the ground.
Commenced writing for Lieut. Col. Mix on September 4, 1861. Boarding at Brown’s opposite the camp.
Left amp Ba__ on Friday, September 14, 1861. In company with Col. [Simon Hosack] Mix, Adjutant Mix, and three companies of cavalry to join Gen. Banks Division. Scott and I came on through the same night to Headquarters. Co. A joined Captain and Lieutenants all right. We are encamped about 1 mile from Darnestown and 5 miles from the Potomac. On this vicinity the country is rough and uneven. There are a great many fine farms. Gen. Banks is within gunshot of our camp. I have seen him several times and like his looks very much and think him a man imminently fitted for the position he occupies. 2 I was out riding a few days and overtook him and his aid and body guard. We rode on a short distance and met Gen. Scott in a carriage. He stopped, went into the woods, had a short conversation, or rather a lengthy one with General Banks, and returned.
1 This earthen fort must have been Fort Massachusetts which was later expanded and renamed Fort Stevens. My friend Bryan Cheeseboro provided me with a blueprint of the original fort which clearly indicates the Brick church within, on 7th Street Turnpike. From Lt. Joy’s notes we know that the church was still standing in September 1861—the fort having been built up around it. According to historical records, that church was the Emory Methodist Church which served a congregation of a little over 70 members, some of whom were Black. Apparently when the fort was expanded, the church was demolished.
Fort Massachusetts as it looked in 1861(National Archives Catalogue)
This sketch of Fort Massachusetts dates to August 1861 and probably reveals the church beyond the flagpole. (The Defenses of Washington 1861-1865)
2 In August 1861, Nathaniel Banks was assigned to western district of Maryland. He was responsible for the arrest of legislators sympathetic to the Confederate cause (as was John Adams Dix, who succeeded Banks in the eastern district) in advance of legislative elections. This, combined with the release of local soldiers in his army to vote, ensured that the Maryland legislature remained pro-Union.
[Note: The following transcription comes from a letter that is posted for sale at The Excelsior Brigade.]
3rd New York Cavalry Headquarters, 2nd Battalion Van Allen Cavalry
October 6th 1861 Camp Near Darnstown
Dear Sister,
Yours of a few days since came to hand in due season and was heartily welcomed and as I am alone this afternoon having been hard at work since morning, I write you a short letter. I am commanding officer this week as the Major and nearly all the men have gone to Frederick City to protect the election, which comes off today, and I am the highest officer in camp, which imposes double duty on me. Walter has been here a day or two helping me as he is only two miles from camp. His health is very good, as well as that of the entire company. They have comparatively an easy time.
It’s an awful cold windy day and my “Cotton Tarmac” flaps wildly so that I can scarce write at all. The storm of last week was terrible as we were encamped near the [Potomac] river on Muddy Branch, which overflowed its banks and rushed through our camp like a torrent. It made lively work for us all and the next day we got permission to move to higher ground. They are erecting a larger fort near General Banks’ Headquarters to command the opposite shore. It’s all uncertainty with us. We never can tell today where we may be. Or what be doing tomorrow. A true soldier learns to eat his pork and ask no questions and obey orders.
We have the promise of going to Washington or Baltimore as mounted patrol to stay through the winter. But cannot tell whether we shall or not as you can tell nothing until you receive orders saying go. I was in Washington last week and wrote quite a long letter home from which is something I seldom ever do nowadays. I find no time to write to anyone and out of all my old correspondents have dropped them all. Received a letter from Mr. Jones a few days ago. Everybody was well. I am tougher and heartier than ever before in my life. I am in the saddle every day, which agrees with me finely. What regiment is Joe Hutchins in? As I may be where I could see him if I only knew where to look for him.
Our naval expedition is reported all safe.
Remember me to all and write very soon. Your brother, — Henry S. Joy
This letter was written by Frederic Denison (1819-1901)—a Baptist minister who volunteered early in the war as Chaplain of the First Rhode Island Cavalry. He then volunteered to serve as “aide-de-camp” to Lieut. Col. Willard Sayles. During this time Denison was a correspondent to the Providence Evening Press and wrote numerous dispatches under the heading, “By the Wayside” to the Press.
In January 1863, Chaplain Denison transferred to the 3rd Rhode Island Heavy Artillery—a process filled with red tape and frustration we learn from the content of this letter. But it allowed him some time to visit with politicians and military men in Washington D. C., to reflect on the progress of the war, and to express his views on the ultimate outcome:
“But we shall survive and overcome the rebellion—not however, till slavery receives its virtual death blow. The conflict is between slavery and freedom—a war of ideas and principles and policies and ambition all growing out of the nature of slavery on the one hand and the claims of freedom on the other hand. Men are nothing; principles are everything. And the Light of the world will not yield to the darkness of slavery; the chariot of God goes not backward.”
Not long after, Chaplain Denison wrote another letter stating his belief that Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation was “divinely inspired” and he calculated its effect on thwarting foreign interference as well as the hopeful liberation of slaves from bondage. “This is less man’s war, than God’s war,” he wrote his brother.
[Note: This letter is from the personal collection of Jim Doncaster and is published by express consent. My compliments to Stacy Cookenour for giving me a first draft transcription of this letter.]
Transcription
Addressed to Isaac W. Denison, Esq., Mystic Bridge, Conn.
Washington D. C. Jan 19, 1863
Isaac W. Denison, Esq. Mystic Bridge, Conn
Dear Bro,
The wandering, war-bound member of the family flock ought perhaps to report progress. I left Providence on the 5th inst. and reached our regiment bivouacked in a pine forest near Potomac Creek on the 8th inst. Proceeding to clear my business and procure my papers, I remained just a week with the army and then came on to this city to have them completed. But alas! Great is Washington and greater is “red tape”! My transfer papers are not yet completed and I may yet accept a resignation as the shortest way to secure a transfer. But the laws were made for the lawless and the law-abiding must maintain them.
President Abram Lincoln, 1863 — “an honest, patriotic man, but none too great for the occasion.”
I have had quite an opportunity of forming the acquaintance of big Generals and big officers of state. I visited the White House, shook hands with the President, looked at Mrs. Lincoln, surveyed the whole affair and was glad that I did not live in the establishment for greatness has its corroding cares. The President is an honest, patriotic man, but none too great for the occasion. Secretary Stanton is a burly, English-looking, fast living man—rather puffed up by his position. Admiral (Commodore) Foote is a plain, easy, sensible, practical, energetic man; I enjoyed his society much. Halleck I have not yet seen, but he loves to have his hand on the helm.
Congress talks and lives well but does only a little effective work. On Sunday I attended service in the Hall of the House of Representatives and heard Mr. [Thomas Hewlings] Stockton—the chaplain and poet. 1 I was interested and profited. The good old man sat while preaching which at first seemed odd, but the liberty is allowable to age. He wrote the hymns that were used. The Capital is a heavy, costly, superb affair and is slowly growing to completion.
The minds of all—except contrabands—are a little gloomy. The war moves slowly. Things are not satisfactory in the Army of the Potomac. The army as a whole—and also the people—feel that McClellan is the only man that can wield so vast a body. Burnside is a superb man and soldier but his shoulders are hardly broad enough for so heavy a load. Hooker would like the command but he is scarcely big enough. He is a good fighter but may want judgement and capacity of administration. In fact, there are too many hands on the reins. The people—the press—the President—the Secretary—the Cabinet—Congress—Halleck—and then Burnside. One man like Jackson or Butler or even McClellan to take the lead—the whole responsibility and honor—and thus feel the proper inspiration, would manage matters I think much better. Divided direction is always poor policy. Many basers are sure to make a bungle. The plenary powers given to our Generals south and west nerved them to heroisms and victories. Able men do not need martingales.
But we shall survive and overcome the rebellion—not however, till slavery receives its virtual death blow. The conflict is between slavery and freedom—a war of ideas and principles and policies and ambition all growing out of the nature of slavery on the one hand and the claims of freedom on the other hand. Men are nothing; principles are everything. And the Light of the world will not yield to the darkness of slavery; the chariot of God goes not backward.
I hope to get through with my business in Washington this week. Dear regards to all the Denison’s as to yourself from yours fraternally, —-Frederic Denison, Chaplain, 1st Regt. R. I. Cavalry
1 Rev. Thomas H. Stockton was part of the entourage that traveled with President Abraham Lincoln to Gettysburg later that year for the dedication of the National Cemetery. Stockton delivered the prayer that November day. In remembering those who gave their lives at Gettysburg, Rev. Stockton said, “But, O, the slain! In the freshness and fulness of their young and manly life; with such sweet memories of father and mother, brother and sister, wife and children, maiden and friends—they died for us. From the coasts beneath the Eastern star, from the shores of Northern lakes and rivers, from the flowers of Western prairies, and from the homes of the Midway and the Border, they came to die for us and for mankind. Alas, how little we can do for them! We come with the humility of prayer, with the pathetic eloquence of venerable wisdom, with the tender beauty of poetry, with the plaintive harmony of music, with the honest tribute of our Chief Magistrate, and with all this honorable attendance: but our best hope is in Thy blessing, O Lord, our God! Bless the bereaved, whether present or absent; bless our sick and wounded soldiers and sailors; bless all our rulers and people; bless our army and navy; bless the efforts for the suppression go the rebellion; and bless all the associations of this day, and place, and scene, forever…”
These letters were written by 43 year-old Louis Frank Dupless (1821-1895) who entered Co. G, 6th Wisconsin Infantry as a substitute on 29 November 1864 and mustered out of the regiment on 14 July 1865.
Louis was born in Bordeaux, Aquitaine, France. He served in the Mexican War and was enumerated as a farmer in Lyndon, Juneau county, Wisconsin in 1860 with his wife Elisabeth (Walkin) DuPless (1827-1869) and their five children—Maria Theresa (b. 1852), Caroline (b. 1855), Francis (b. 1857), Emaline (b. 1859) and Fred (b. 1862).
Letter 1
Madison [Wisconsin] 3rd December 1864
Dear Lis,
I am in Madison well and in pretty good spirits but I would have liked to see you once again before I left this place. I arrived here last night dark and this morning was called on to go on guard but told the sergeant to let me alone as I was going to see if I would get a furlough. I went to the Colonel of the camp, Cha____ by name, but he told me that I would have to write to the Secretary of War in Washington to get one as it was not in his power to let me go. So here I am. Shall I go without seeing you or the children again? No, no I will not, but how will I help myself? I don’t know at present but I will write again tomorrow.
Sunday, I am in town because I bribed the sergeant to let me go. It is very sharp here at present because so many substitutes run away. I sent five hundred and fifty dollars to join and pay Fred Marten 1 hundred, Topping 25 dollars, and John Shultz gets 73 dollars. If Shultz wants it, he may have 12.50 dollars more which is Frank Repler’s money. Let him give you his note stamped. You understand for the amount and it is right. I will write more tomorrow and in hopes in seeing you again.
I remain affectionately, Louis F. DuPless
Kiss the children and tell them to be good.
Letter 2
Fond du Lac [Wisconsin] December 30th 1864
Dear Lis,
At last I have put on the blue coat and may I never be sorry for it. I cannot help it for our circumstances compelled me to take this step. You may believe that it cost me a hard struggle to do it but I believe it may turn out for the best. When I think that for the sake of a few hundred dollars I may have to lay down my life, may never see you or the children again, I could in my inmost heart curse this selfish world, and wish then what might have been avoided, to everlasting damnation. But enough! I went as substitute for the sum of five hundred and eighty dollars (580). It was considerable trouble to get in but I managed it pretty well, I believe. Tomorrow we will have to go to Madison and will not receive a cent till we leave this place. I shall take the money to Madison and send it by Express to you—very likely 550 dollars—to Killbourne and send my clothes likewise there and I believe that by Monday you may look for the money.
Pay Fred Marten and Topping at once, and how o use the rest of the money I shall direct you in my next letter. We will pay up everyone and then I shall meet my fate cheerfully—whatever it is. Look out to home for our interest and don’t let the folk do to our premises as they see fit. Get for yourself and the children all necessary clothes. Don’t suffer for you will have over a hundred dollars for your own use. Try and keep the children under subjection, but bless their little hearts, don’t find always fault with them. Kiss them for me and tell them I want them to be good children. I want them to learn their books and obey their mother. I shall feel pleasure in hearing they do.
I shall write again I think by Friday when I think I shall send the money. My heart is full. I want to stop writing and I think I shall write calmer next time. I will and shall try to see you before I leave and if I have to go without furlough. But you may come to Madison if I cannot come and see you. We will see. As I said before, I write again on Friday. I am well. Hope you and the children are so likewise. Greet our neighbors that is human. Let the rest slide.
I wish I was with you all but don’t think I feel sorry for the step I took. My teeth is set and I shall meet my future destiny with an unflinching heart. I am determined to do my duty. Greet Marten’s folks and all our friends heartily. Receive my love for you and the children and may God help us. Remember me kindly and I shall always think of you with a loving heart.
Your loving husband, — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 3
Camp before Petersburg 3 January 1865
Dear Elisabeth!
I do not know what to make of it that I receive no letters from you. How you can let me wait so long without hearing from you and the children is beyond my comprehension. Even if you are sick, you may get somebody to write for you. It is cruel to neglect writing and if even you only send one line it would set a person’s mind at ease. I cannot tell you how disappointed I felt when every day letters arrive and none for me. It begins to create talk even in the company. It is a shame that whatever it is that keeps any letters from reaching me is not known to me. Let the matter be what it is, let it be known to me or by all the Gods in heaven I may take a step and appear in Wisconsin that will make the living tremble. If you are sick, let it ne known to me. If you are dead, which God forbid, is there no neighbor with a spark of human feeling left that will tell me the truth?
End this suspense or I shall go mad, for by heaven, I can not bear it much longer. I am in good health but in a awful temper so that one of our companies felt the power of my hand. I forgot to mention in my last letter that I let Gottliev Guyer have five dollars which amount you may collect of the old man Guyer. The old man Guyer wrote to me that you expected to find my likeness in my pants pocket. I wrote no such thing to you but saw I said I sent you a box of Cheeseman Pills and I would send you may likeness as soon as possible. If I receive no letter from you this week, I will have to stop writing to you and trust to God that I may someday return and see my poor children once more.
If God never had put them in the worked I do not know but it would have been better for I must think that if you are alive, you must have very little feeling for the father of your children. If you can account for your neglect, may God forgive you—I cannot. God bless my poor children and keep them pure and that I may see them once more in this life is the wish of their father.
— Louis F. DuPless
I don’t care to write anymore, therefore I leave this space vacant. If I wrong you no doubt, I receive my deserts.
Letter 4
In front of Petersburg 6th January 1865
Dear Elisabeth,
I received your letter dated the 29th December yesterday while I was on guard and wrote these lines after roll call—that is [when] our names is called. You may judge that I feel terrible about you being sick as you do not state in your letter that you are out of danger. Neither do I know the nature of your sickness but I can guess it. May God help you. That is all I can say. I suspected as much. This was the first letter I received and you may guess that I was not in a very amiable mood so that one of our company felt the weight of my hand which is forbidden to do, but I have first rate officers and I am well liked by all. I am a soldier and drilling is only play for me. I am not sorry that I am a soldier, I felt it all along that I would have to be a soldier and here I am and shall do my duty. But you and the children, you are troubling me. I always think of you and the little ones when I stand in the night time alone on guard. But I am glad to think that you are well off in worldly matters and that you and the children are sound asleep when I am walking my lonesome watch, But I am cheerful, full of life, generally in good heart. If you only keep in good health, I will do well enough.
You write about Joseph Weber wanting 40 dollars, but that won’t do because I consider my first duty is to look to your welfare. If I was to home, I would help the poor fellow, but I don’t know I may be taken out of this world and I would not want you to put the money on a insecure place and he has enough to do with the debts he has on hand. I will write to hi.
I am sorry for Mrs. Shultz. I send a letter to him. If you let him have the money, you must take notes from him. That is the way to do business. They must be stamped.
You was mistaken in regard of likeness. I sent none and there is no opportunity. You see here nothing but soldiers. I have seen no citizen since I arrived here. Sometimes I wish to see something else than the blue coats and the everlasting drum beating and bugle. You give my best respects to Genhart and wife, hoping they are well and doing the best for themselves as well as for us. Did you get any letter from your father or his wife? What is the news otherwise? Has your brother come to see you since I left or not?
Send the letters of Franz Depler to me and if there come any more, send them to me as soon as possible. Write to me again as soon sas possible and if you can do no better, write only one line saying I and the children are well—but write. If you cannot write, let John Gebhart try again. He done very well in the letter I received. Don’t let me wait again so long for a line from you. You may judge by the enclosed letter of my feelings. I would not send it off to you. I know it was a hard letter but I felt very bitter. Don’t let Weber take any letter out of the office for you. If he keeps them that length of time, he may leave them in the Post Office. I think Schultz might see that you get the letter sometimes. Send somebody every week to Lyndon for letters if fair weather. If not, there is no need as I have nothing important to write.
And now I must leave you in the hands of God hoping you may soon be well. Don’t trouble yourself about your likeness but send it when you can in a month or two. Kiss the children for me and may God bless you and let you soon recover is the wish of your affectionate husband, — Louis F. Dupless
Letter 5
In front of Petersburg near Hatcher’s Run 28th of February 1865
Dear Elisabeth!
God be praised I am well and hearty laying here in our quarters—little log huts which we had to build again. No one can tell how long we will be here. That depends on circumstances but as we have here now plenty of rainy weather, the roads are bad and [there is] no prospect of moving. No matter though. What will be the next move, we are all in the hands of the Almighty. He will shape things in the best way and even what looks bad to us may in the end be for our good. I hope you will be reconciled, trust in God, and hope for the best.
I hope likewise that you and the children are well. This causes me a great deal of anxiety—especially if I get no letter from you often enough. If you all were well, I could be contented. I should not be troubled much. I have no fear for death and if I feel a longing for you and the children, I am strong minded enough to suppress all weak thoughts and stand up bravely against bodily enemies as well as enemies of the mind (I mean my thoughts).
I received the box with your likeness, tobacco, a small flask of liquor from Fred Marten, yarn &c. and pleased I was, you may be sure. Your likeness—I have before me now—is the cause of my getting the liquor. All boxes are examined. They found the liquor and intended to confiscate it but the Provost Marshal knowing me and the sergeant of my company being just at Division Headquarters where everything is examined, he wrote to me [the following:] “Soldier, I could not find in my heart to confiscate the bottle with liquor after looking at the picture.” Signed, Provost Marshal. It looks sad but I love it. I carry it in my shirt pocket right over my heart. If a ball, which God forbid, should pierce my heart, it would have to go through your likeness first.
My dear little Freddy. He looks well. First rate. God bless you, my son. May the day come soon that I will have the pleasure of folding you to my heart. I think Freddy will have to bring you two apples when I get home, but one fourth of the time is gone. Three months are past—only 9 remaining. Be hopeful. Franky, have you been thinking of papa often? If so, I know you must have been a good boy. Come my little man, be good and papa will be pleased and be a kind pa to you. Now try and do good. Learn your book and prayers well.
A tintype of Louis’ eldest daughter, Maria Theresa (1852-1887) who no doubt helped her mother with the younger children in her father’s absence. She married her first husband, Peter J. Weber, in 1871.
Emmy dear, your little face is below me. I wish I could see you and have a talk with you. I know you would be a good little girl if they don’t plague you. Does little Emmy wish for her papa? Can you pray and beg God to send your papa back to you? Caroline I know is good and loving [her] father. My good girl, do please me, and learn well. How much I should like when I come back to find you a good scholar. Theresa, you are the oldest of you and you can be a good girl if you have a mind too. Won’t you please your father by being not only good, but very good. You must learn well. Whenever you have time, you must learn to write. How I should love to get a letter from you. Learn well and a father’s blessing rest on your head. Do Theresa dear, do what Ma tells you and I shall be glad. And you all dear children think of father, pray for him and God may be merciful to send me back to you.
Now dear Lis, don’t you fret too much about me. If I keep my health, I hope to see you soon again. Still I expect a desperate struggle yet with the Johnnies this spring. Even if they are pushed to the wall, they will not give it up so they are deserting fast, but we will have to fight and hard. Anyhow, I should if I was in their place. That is my nature. I would give battle to the last. I can’t help thinking sometimes that they may take a bold stand to the last moment till the spring opens, when they see that we are ready to pounce on them, knowing their cause is failing. Gen. Sherman driving them before him up to our lines, I sometimes think they ,ay knock under but it is doubtful.
We have much rain here now so there is no likely chance of any move at present and by rights we ought to lay 2 months inactive yet/ Wagons sink up to the axles in mire. I never believed this was such a peculiar soil here. [ ] fooled, and a loaded wagon sinks down in a twinkling of the eyes before you expect it. It is a sandy clay.
If you would send the children’s likenesses, send them if possibly without frame. It is easier carried, or send them all in one picture which I think is better yet. Did you get them 8 dollars of Guyer yet? I expect to get one month’s pay in a day or so which is needed because our food is pretty scanty that now I wish God will take care of you all and trust in Him. As for me, believe me, I shall always be kind to you as far as my nature allows me and do the best for you I can. Greet the neighbors that is kind to you from me, and tell them Louis remembers a kindness done his family while he is absent, but let the mean ones look out for thunder when I return.
And now farewell. Remember me kindly and kiss the little ones that have been good for me.
Your affectionate husband, — Louis F. DuPless
I shall try to send my likeness in my next letter. If you send anything to me, write thus: Louis F. DuPless, 6th Regt. Wis. Veteran Vol., 3rd Brigade, 5th Corps, Washington D. C.
Letter 6
In Camp before Petersburg March 23rd 1865
Dear Lis,
During a tremendous storm do I write this letter. The wind unroofed a good many of our cabins—the sand blinding a person almost. But I sit tolerably comfortable in my lodge, my tent mate reading and I writing, the coffee pot on the fire, no fear of any disturbance—only the sand coming flying into the cracks. Our cabin is logs with tent roof, fireplace, and bunk. Comfortably I assure you. On a shelf to the left of me lays about 6 pounds good beef and plenty of crackers, pork, and before me a shell with tin cups, plates and knives, fork and such things. I write on a small table made of a cracker box and have my pipe and tobacco near me. Over my head hangs my rifle in the peak of the rook and a small shelf almost touching my head lays our dress coats, hats, papers, and that small box Fred Marten sent. By and by there was no paper nor envelopes in the box. I have plenty now. From this short description of my situation you may judge that I am pretty well located. O yes! there is nothing wanting but—but—no—no, I would not say, “But you and the children” because the surroundings would not agree. But I must say that if I had this little shanty with your and our dear children in it in a place where peace and love between neighbors rules, I dare say we would have a happy day.
But good courage, by the time you have this letter, 4 month s of my time will be gone—only 8 remaining, and who knows but peace may bless us before that. I am of the opinion that I will remain here for a month at least but no one can say how soon there may be a move. But it is impossible to bring wagons or artillery forward. They will sink in the ground axle deep. It is a peculiar soil here—clay mixed with sand. I like Wisconsin much better than I do Virginia—at least all I have seen of it. The land appears like going to Lyndon Station—lots of pine and the land rolling. But on this pine land, the soil is clay which surprised me very much. Water in every hollow and if you go 200 rods in any direction, you have water for your coffee.
I have been drinking my coffee and resume my pen. I did not get any letter yet of anybody else but you, but no matter. Only I think Mr. John Schultz might have wrote before this. I think I should not think so much of him as I did. Very likely now that I am gone, somebody else is more in his graces. Let them go it. I would have been satisfied if he had wrote one word. I shall not correspond with him until I receive news from him. You know me and my ways. Those to remember you, that as soon as possible you will see, that everything is burnt around n spring. Get the neighbors together and don’t depend on Gephart of doing it. I wrote a letter to Ranny. If you will be guided by his advice about moneys, if you have any, I am satisfied. You must know that here I am unable to say how money stands or what is best to do. You may just as well keep the money in your hands. Get United States bills and keep them if you see fit. Still if lenders come, you may say you took bonds for your spare money or do as you have a mind to. I am perfectly satisfied with whatever you do.
I have nothing particular to write but I love to talk to you and always imagine I see the little faces of the children turned up to yours while you are reading. I can think how they ask questions and likewise I think that getting a letter from me and hearing from me ought to be a pleasure ad put you in a good humor for a day or so. My little chickens, how are you all? I am well. I hope you are. I guess you are wishing for summer and warm weather because the house is not as warm as when your father is home. But hold on, next winter the old fireplace shall steam again. And what do you think I was going to say? A barrel of apples in the house to roast them at our pleasure. Would that be nice? We will see. You remember me on it when I come home.
We have to be our own cook. I had a good beef soup today but don’t imagine it to be like home. Still have fried some excellent beef steaks sometimes. We are living like fighting cocks now. We have plenty to eat now. I hope my dear Lis you and children are well. Take care of yourself and them. That is all I ask. Your affectionate husband and father — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 7
Front of Petersburg Monday, 27 March 1865
Dear Liz,
I am writing these lines in good health hoping you will receive them likewise in good spirits.
A scene from the movie, “Lincoln” depicting the President riding over the battlefield of Friday, 24 March 1865, near Fort Stedman.
Our lines were attacked on Friday night by a heavy force of rebels and our lines broken and 3 forts taken. Our troops, in short order, got on the ground, closed on the Johnnies, retook the forts and gave them a handsome flailing. The battle lasted more or less on the line till Saturday night at dark.
We were marched (our 5th Corps) near the scene of action in heavy marching order—that is, all our traps on our backs—and in the afternoon passed review before our President Abraham Lincoln. I liked the appearance of him first rate and he is by no means such [a] homely fellow as the pictures [of] him. I marched within 4 rods of him and took a pretty fair look at him. He was on horseback of course. 1
After review we went closer to the battleground but did not come in fire. We are in reserve at present and have to go wherever we are needed along the whole line. We are in camp again but are ready to march on a moment’s notice. I do not anticipate any great danger now. The Johnnies got a severe lesson but I can not say how many they lost. There are so many different yarns about it. Our boys give ’em fits. It is said what Lincoln and the ladies thought when they reviewed us under the thunder of cannons and roar of musketry, I guess, was this; poor fellows. How many of you will lay low before long. There is no doubt there was the human feeling touched—especially as one of our company, right in front of the President while we were marching along under our torn and tattered colors, broke rank and knelt right before the ladies coach. He is half-witted only, or light-headed.
I cannot write [more] particulars because we don’t know every moment may call us and I have to bring the letter quite a ways. Don’t you tremble for me at all. I am in fighting trim and don’t fear anything. Remember what I wrote to you in my last letter. Don’t believe any yarns. I believe though that there is no trouble at present. I should judge the rebel leaders must know their last day is come. Our army is in good spirits. The rebels are desperate and if a wonder don’t safes them and a great fortune of war favors them, in three months they are done for and in less time.
The weather is splendid. I hope it will remain so, If we have to fight, it better be done now before they strengthen themselves and warm weather commences. God help you and our children and protect all. I know he will me. Cheer up and be proud you have a brave husband. We all are in God’s hands. Bless you and our dear children. Your affectionate husband, — Louis F. DuPless
After finished writing everything is still on our line. I think the rebels have their belly’s full. But some think that they will leave their lines soon, Richmond and all.
1 This review of General Ord’s Division by President Abraham Lincoln took place near Malvern Hill on the north side of the James river on Sunday afternoon, 26 March 1865. The President’s entourage included the President and Mrs. Lincoln and two sons, Robert and Tad, General and Mrs. Grant, and General and Mrs. Ord. Mrs. Ord rode on horseback next to Lincoln and the other generals which greatly upset Mrs. Lincoln and she made a public spectacle of herself scolding the President.
Letter 8
In camp 10th April 1865
Dear wife and children!
I am well and hearty and hope you are likewise. I got safe through all danger and as Gen. Robert Lee surrendered yesterday with all his forces to us, I expect peace will be established and I hope that in 2 months or sooner I will be with you, God willing. You see Providence protected me so far. Hope for the best.
Fearful scenes I went through—one the 30th of March. We was surrounded—that is, our regiment—and lost 113 men. One-third. Next day at it again and so on. God protected me to be with you. Greet all good friends.
I am in a hurry. Peace will be soon, I hope. I don’t see how any more battles can be fought by us as Virginia has laid down arms. We are waiting for orders and resting as our Army Corps is very needy of it. Move soon. God help you and me.
Yours affectionately, — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 9
Three miles from Washington D. C. May 13th 1865
Dear Wife!
A soldier’s life is a uncertain thing as you will see because when I wrote last I thought it strange if they should let us lay at Richmond as long as 10 days. Last Saturday we started from there and last night Friday we came here—a pretty fair march of 125 miles, and that is a pretty long one in 7 days after such a hard campaign as we went through. On the night from Friday to Saturday, we suffered shamefully through rain and wind. I walked the ground the whole night wet through and such a hard night I never experienced my whole lifetime. We could not keep warm as we was scarce of fuel.
Damned be our Corps Commander General Griffin. He ought to had let some of us in camp an hour sooner and then we might have made us more comfortable. I had my blankets, rubber, and tent carried on the supply train—a privilege for me only—and the train did not get up that night and there I was without anything. The rest did not fare much better as the ground was soaking wet before they could pitch tents. Most all could not make fires, but I had a cup of coffee. Once more damned the Corps Commander. Many a soldier will have his health wrecked through him. Curse him the day—double damn him.
I do not know what will be the next move but expect in a short time to see home. I shall not be sorry as I suffered enough and wish to rest and be my own master again. I cannot be satisfied when I see things going on around me as they do but the short time I have to serve will soon be over.
I don’t think I shall write to Gebhart as you requested me—that he was sorry and the like. I shall not trouble Gebhart nor be angry with him. All they need to do is what is right and I will be satisfied. I shall not quarrel nor trouble him, nor anybody else, but everyone must use us right or I shall clean ’em out. I hope you and the children are well and that things are going on otherwise satisfactory. I am well satisfied with your last letter and with the management of affairs generally and what should I grumble for to be sure, I ought to be satisfied and so I am—only let me alone with your woman troubles until I get home and then you may tell me all and everything as long and as many times as you want to. You have my love as well as the children’s so therefore, you ought to be satisfied and I guess you are. I long to see you and the children but I do not think of such things too much. It would make me downhearted.
We ought to be grateful that there is a prospect of us meeting soon again, so let us rejoice and be thankful, and hope for good and better times and likewise that we may be able to make each other’s path through life less thorny than formerly. Let us try and we may succeed.
So farewell to you all. I am in hopes to be home at my birthday. God bless you all and take care of you. Gebhart news not be in a stew. Tell him I have principle so there, let him be satisfied. Goodbye children. God bless you. You will soon see me, I hope. Be good and kind to each other. Farewell, dear Liz, and do the best you can and that is enough.
From your loving husband and father, — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 10
Near Washington [D. C.] 18th May 1865
Dear wife and children!
I am well and hearty, hoping you are the same, which is all I could wish as your welfare lays nigher my heart than my own. I consider it nothing but my duty to see that you are well provided for, even if it is a hard way of doing it a soldiering, but it was my choice and eve if anybody could buy my past experience, I would not sell it for a thousand dollars. But I hate to be trouble with trifles and therefore I had to write to you, what may appear unkind words. I was battling for life and death, and you only for a mere straw compared with mine. If Mrs. Gebhart used any unbecoming language to you, I hope you understand what I mean. She may answer for it. Let her look out. If anybody had the mark of God’s anger on him or her, let her look to herself. God showed his mercy to us in keeping me safe through this war. This is the last time I hope to write about her. Let it rest.
We are resting here and we need it, I assure you. But my old iron frame stands it first rate. I am getting more fleshy than I have been and it needs to for one time I was all bone. I guess after two weeks or so I shall look well.
Yesterday our Governor Lewis of Wisconsin was here and reviewed our regiment. He said that he had tried his best to get us home but all the answer he could get was as soon as possible we should go home. He had spoken to all—President and Cabinet—and he thought the day was not distant that we could go home. He had seen the Secretary of the Treasury that morning and was informed that he had fifty millions of dollars ready to pay us and expecting to receive the order to do so every moment. But there was a small cloud down in Texas and Mississippi and that as soon as that disappeared, we would go to our peaceful [homes]. That the people of Wisconsin tendered us through him their gratitude that the state was proud of her sons and we should march to Madison, Wisconsin, with our arms and accoutrements and soon. Now then, you may judge for yourself how we stand and how long it may take before I will be home. My opinion is this spark in Texas and Louisiana will soon disappear. Then we will go to Madison but it may take a week or two, or three before we get through there. Still I believe I will be home only birthday.
I foretold most everything correctly aforehand and I believe I will not shoot far from the mark now. But patience it will all come right. I think spring will soon make its appearance in earnest by you and I shall be pleased to be home soon as early spring is the time I like best to look at. How are the children working and learning? Well I hope. But I shall soon see for myself. I hope they obey their mother. If I ask you when I come home if you did, can you say yes in truth. If you cannot, try and do better so that you may say you was good most of the time. I don’t expect if the worst comes to pass that I will have to stay longer than June. Then my idea is we will be home in short order. I expect to hear the order everyday to go home. May the day not be distant. I hope for your sake that things go on better than formerly and that there will be raised something. If there is not, there is more ways than one to get along in the world.
I must close and I hope the next time I write will be from Madison. I wish you all good health and spirits and don’t be fretting. I guess you will have to make garden yourself. Hoping to be with you soon. I am yours always, — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 11
Washington [D. C.] 31st May 1865
Dear Lis,
Here we are still and as far as I am concerned, well and hearty, hoping you and our children are in good health which is my earnest wish and only desire for you all to be so and in good spirits. We are laying idle doing hardly anything whatever—only one half hour dress parades evenings and every week once going on guard. But as the 12 neatest, cleanest dossiers out of 24 are always excused from doing even guard duty, I never done even that. Only slicked myself up, marched to the parade ground, and was sent back again to follow my own inclination which is to sleep, dream, in fact, do nothing. You see we have pretty good times but we want to go home. Home is our desire and nothing else will do us.
And now I can tell you with a glad heart and I believe you will be rejoiced to hear that we are coming home and soon. By the time you read this letter, I firmly believe I will be on the way to Wisconsin, if not before. We are only waiting to bring the necessary papers in order and then for home, which I firmly believe we be in—on the way, I mean—say about 3 days. We are to be mustered out here and to be sent to Madison and paid immediately and as the Adjutant General of the State of Wisconsin Gaylord [said] last Sunday—likewise, Secretary of State Fairchild—told us in a speech a great welcome awaits us in Wisconsin. I don’t care about that—few do. I want my welcome when I come home. I don’t care for empty show because I know that a soldier is not so much honored as they would have us believe. I should not think that you have any idea that if you’d hear that I was in Madison, you would come to see me. I wished you to remain at home till I come. I am anxious to see you and our dear children but you may judge that in Madison would be no room to be had, to have you anyways comfortable and for a woman to come in a soldier’s camp where no doubt the men will be wild with drink or joy or some other such thing, would not be agreeable for a man of my temper. But if the soldiers knew that you was my wife, not the least insult would be offered and I rather think it is more pleasant to meet you and children at home, except it was you were to come in company with say, your father. But know we will not stay in Madison a week. It is for the town folks interest to see us home as quick as possible because if they expect us there over three days, the soldiers will play the deuce. I tell you, they are without money and if a soldier wants anything to eat or drink, he is bound to have it. We have not enough to eat now. A pound loaf a day which answers for two meals. Where is the third to come from? I may err but I believe in 14 days the latest of the 20th of June, I am with you.
The Rebel General Kirby Smith held out longer than I thought he would else I should have been home by my birthday. No matter. I will see you soon. We must have patience. The band is playing now but I am disgusted with that soon.
A regiment left for home from our Corps yesterday. We have had some warm weather here and I hope you will have favorable weather by you so as to grow something, if it is only for Gebhart’s sake. I hope he will do well. He need not to think that I shall make any trouble with him or his wife. Let them go the straight road and I shall do so likewise. I shall be just and do right to everybody. All they need to do is not fair and upright and let her not put on too many airs. I am coming.
I would like to hear from you and the children and I think you better write instantly. The letter will follow me. Well, my little children, I will soon be with you again in a few weeks at latest and shan’t we be all so glad? I have been thinking what I should bring home for you. I guess I shall have to let mother pick out the presents for you and I shall pay for them. I think if you have been good, brave children, I shall give you 5 dollars apiece. I will have that much money left I hope when I come out of my earnings. If you have not been good, what all I do then? My dear Lis, to you I guess I bring myself. That is all the present you need at present. For the rest we will see. Hoping to see you soon, as we count days now, not months. I am your affectionate husband, — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 12
Washington [D. C.] June 6th 1865
Dear Elisabeth
This is my birthday—44 years old. I though a while back that should have been home by this time but things don’t work as favorable as I thought. The government decided to muster out the one year men whose time expired by the first of October and I am not included in this class. As soon as they are through with that class, I think they will muster them out whose time is out by the first of January next and therefore I have faith that by the 4th of July I may be home. It may be sooner but I am thinking it will take that time before I can be home. However, don’t get discouraged. With God’s help, I may see you soon.
Our troops are sent home no doubt as soon as the government can spare them, and I hope my turn will come soon. I long to be out of this. There is no pleasure in laying here idly, far from you and our little ones. Of course I have nothing to do and manage to get enough to eat drawing sixteen dollars per month which may come in some day. My due is now about seventy dollars but I’d rather be at home. If I can be home as I believe, we will be haying and harvesting. We shall be well enough. I don’t mean to lay idle after a short repose, It is said today that all western troops are to be sent to Louisville in Kentucky and the one year men to be mustered out there, which may be. That I will be mustered out of the service soon, I don’t doubt, but some unforeseen circumstances may yet keep me longer from you than at present I know of.
There is hundreds of false reports here but I know what I have to believe. Seventy-five men of our regiment are mustered out here today, therefore I think I will soon have my turn coming. We are all dissatisfied. We all want to go home with the exception of some of the officers who draw large pay and would like to keep this track regiment in service. They would have to keep three year men but never could keep the one year men. I don’t care so much about serving my time out, but I think I would do better in haying and harvest and I am tired of this damned drone life.
The order for going to Louisville, Kentucky, arrived just now at Headquarters. Still we may lay here a day or more yet before transportation is ready. This would bring me about 7 or 800 miles nigher to you. I am now eleven hundred from you.
I hope you received my clothes which I sent to Lyndon Station. I hope I made no mistake in sending it there. I think they must cost nothing as I sent them by the Christian Commission. If you write to me, don’t say anything but what anybody may read as I may not get them now and they would have to be destroyed, I hope you keep on writing. I wish to hear from you. I wish to know how you are getting along and if you and children are well, if you live without more trouble, and how things do prosper with you. I would not mind it so much them if I had to stay my time out. I would earn something, If I get home soon, I guess I will have about money enough to dress myself well and give the little ones their presents. That will be all. I am borrowing money now to buy bread and such things because I don’t get enough to eat. It’s a shame. I am well otherwise and hope you are likewise as well as the children.
…Yours affectionately, husband and father, — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 13
Washington [D. C.] June 15th 1865
Dear Elisabeth,
We are here yet and till within one hour back, we did not know when we should get transportation for Kentucky. Louisville or Lexington is said to be our destination.
We are a very discontent set at present and I tell you, the officers have their trouble. Day before yesterday we had a small resolution or rebellion here on account of our food. About 20 of ours and one other company went up to Brigade Headquarters, General Morgan, and stated our case. Our Colonel Kellogg felt offended for not coming to him first, and ordered the boys to his tent and [placed a] guard over them. They told him he would have to get more guards. They were not able to keep us. You may be sure I was between them. When the sergeant of the guard wanted to take us to the guard house, we made about face and with a yell started for our tents. The Colonel called 120 men guard and threatened to bring us forcibly back if we did not come peaceable. The boys spring to their arms and would not go but the officers and myself prevailed on them but I made them understand it was not fear that made us got and I told the officers that no guard whatever should come nigh us or they would have trouble. We went up, had a talk with the Colonel. He was quite mild then. Said he would investigate matters but he thought we had insulted him and so forth. As last we told him that if he wanted us to remain there, we should do so, but we would not allow a guard over us. The result was he sifted things through, found we had cause of complaint, and their things ended.
If there had not come orders for us to move, there would have been trouble this afternoon as Major Daly wanted us to drill this afternoon and the boys swore they would to drill anymore. I tell you the soldiers are mad. They want to go home and I should not wonder at all if before long there will be a disturbance through the whole army. It is a pity that the government would not have sent the soldiers home sooner, but now the government lost the good will of the soldiers.
I am glad we are to leave here soon. I am so tired of this cursed Virginia and I would mostly wish the City of Washington with all things in it in the lowest depths of hell. I don’t think that we will be long in service more. No one can tell though anything about it. The officers are as wise as the privates, but I can do no otherwise but believe that I am home the latest by harvesting but my idea is sooner for government means to hold us only long enough till the regular army is strong enough . Likewise do I expect to see a call come out soon for more of the one year men to be discharged and I am sure I will be between them, so you will have to try to content yourself a little longer. Still you may hope to see my every day coming home as I think myself I will not be long more till I am with you.
Furthermore my pay goes on and if crops look so poor as you say, you must wish of course that I should earn all I could doing nothing for it, and I do not feel as if I could [get] back into hard work right off when I come home except it is haying and harvesting through which I think I will curse all I possibly can. Be contented for a while and hope for the best. I am doing all I can. There is no fear in my mind for the future and I think that you will see me soon….
Well my dear children, I am coming about seven hundred miles nigher to you in a few days and I hope I will soon be with you…I hope you have my clothes I sent to the Station. Farewell dear wife and children. God protect you. Don’t worry but look for me patiently, not eagerly, and kissing you all in imagination, I am your affectionate husband and father, — Louis F. DuPless
The order is for us to start for Old Kentucky tomorrow morning 4 o’clock.
Letter 14
Jeffersonville, Indiana July 1st, 1865
Dear Elisabeth and children!
Here we are yet and no one knows what is to be done with us. I am pretty well reconciled to no matter what may happen. I am done fretting and as our companies has twice rebelled and the rest of the regiment left us in the lurch, I am determined to council peace because I see it is no use. We must abide our time. And I don’t think it such a misfortune if I have remain my time out. I could not work if I was at home. Few soldiers will dare to work hard. They would not stand it, and the change of food when they are discharged is dangerous in the summer. Winter time there is no danger.
I had my leg hurt on the cars to Harpers Ferry. Nothing serious. I am limping a little yet but intend to do no duty for a week yet. I am well as usual otherwise and hope to God you and the children will be and remain so. This is my greatest trouble—the thought of your health and welfare.
The 7th Wisconsin is going home today or Monday. They are luckier than we are. My hope was always to go with them but there is no such thing. They will be in Madison by the 4th or 5th of July. Our officers, it is sad to say, try to keep us in service as long as possible. Of course they have good wages and easy times. If they go out of service, they—most of them—have nothing to live on and must go to work. Don’t you lose your courage. I have hopes yet to see you soon and if I see I cannot get my discharge inside of 2 months, then I will take a furlough and be with you by the 4th or 5th of August—depend on that—that I shall not be much longer away from you. I must see how you are getting along and it will cost me only about $25 dollars to go and come, as my pay goes on, and I receive on furlough half pay for rations.
But I know that the highest they will keep us in service is 3 months but I offered a bet this morning for 5 dollars to eat and drinks that by the 1st of August our regiment would have orders for the State of Wisconsin. So I say have patience. No one took my bet, I forgot to mention.
You say that Edwin is seeing you once in awhile and he is doing well. I am glad to hear he does well. May he prosper. I never done him any harm nor wished him harm, and shall always be pleased to hear that things is prospering with him, even if we cannot be friends. The reason is plain why. Poor Gebhart, I pity him and especially he got linked into such a superstitious family. It will be hard for him now to begin on his own farm. There was a way for him to go along but if crops look bad, he will have a hard road to hoe. If I would like to help anybody, it is Gebhart but his surroundings is not as they might be. In ordinary times, if he was stirring, he ought to do well on our farm, but if bugs and water trouble, no one is to blame for that. We are not to blame nor lose by it. I cannot give him the use of the far, for nothing if he has bad luck. Of course he don’t expect that. Look out for No. 1 shall be my motto after this. I guess his folks thinks ours is a lucky place. But I think bad luck is often the effect of bad management, and I know that the saying of unlucky days and places is humbug. I as the owner of the place must be lucky or I would not have gone through five battles, foremost into it, under a storm of bullets unscathed. And a lucky man is not the owner of an unlucky place. He would not be lucky if he was. If I had been a brick in the battles, I should not have promotion [to corporal] pressed on me—a substitute of 6 months service– when we have men enough in our regiment—privates that served 4 years and are smart soldiers. I am a lucky man to live to return to you and our little pickaninnies and cannot own an unlucky place.
Be of good cheer, dear Lis. No such thing as bad luck can be our lot. I will bury that word unlucky in a coffin. You say that bugs is in the crops again. That is a misfortune. I hear that other parts of the state are affected likewise. If hay only gets good, if I get home, I see see how things are to be managed. If the grass is anyways decent, I wish Kelly to cut it before harvest and bring it into the barn. If not good before, as soon as possible whatever Gebhart will cut, let him cut but he need not let other people cut on shares. Father, here all you can get cut. Why you might speak to Edwin as he could not run the river then nor harvesting but by [ ].
…So hoping for the best and trusting to good luck as I have had, I rest contented and may God bless you and our dear children and keep you safe and well. So farewell and remember your affectionate husband and father, — Louis F. DuPless
Letter 15
[Lyndon, Wisconsin] July 1st [1865]
Dear Louis,
[Not transcribed yet]
Letter 16
In Camp, Jeffersonville, Indiana, opposite Louisville 7th July 1865
Dear Elisabeth and dear children,
At last I can write the joyful news to you that I will soon be home with you for good. Day before yesterday the 5th, the order was read to us that we are to be mustered out of service as quick as our papers can be made out and then to be sent to the State to get our pay and finally to be discharged there out of service. All this may take a month yet but I hope not and I believe we will be in Madison by the end of next week. Any way, I am home by the 10th of August, I believe, and hope sooner. So have patience a little longer.
It is so awful hot here but I don’t do anything but eat, lay down, bathe or such things. I am well and God knows how pleased I am to hear that you are all well. I got your letter dated the first of July last night and some how it was the most welcome letter I thought since I entered the service. I was not in a cheerful spirit [when] out came.
Col. John Azor Kellogg, 6th Wisconsin
We have has some stirring times in our regiment. The other day the 7th Wisconsin Regiment went home, The boys of said regiment came with a torch light procession in our camp. There were three cheers given for their colonel and our boys gave three groans for our Colonel [John Azor] Kellogg. It was reported he tried to hold us as long as possible in service which I don’t believe. Both regiments went to Division Headquarters and done the same. Our company gets blamed for all. The next morning our Lieutenant Colonel Daly said so and gave the boys hell. But now I think all trouble is done with.
Since the children requested me on the 4th and also their 5 dollars, I conclude they have been good. That is right, my little chickens, and you shall soon see me and the 5 dollars likewise. I am glad to know that in a short time I shall be with you. Till then, God protect you and keep you safe. So farewell and keep patient. From your affectionate husband and father, — Louis F. DuPless
Give the lines to Gebhart. My respects to them that deserve it. Don’t write till I write from Wisconsin.
This incredible letter, never before published, was written by J. Milton Whipple (1842-1870) of East Shelby, Orleans County, New York, who enlisted on 21 August 1862 in the 17th New York Light Battery for three years. He mustered out with the battery on 12 June 1865 in Richmond, Virginia.
Milton was the son of Griffin Whipple (1797-1874) and Louisa Barber (1816-1847) of Gallopsville, Schoharie County, New York.
After returning from the war, Milton married Electa Bertha Sherwood (1842-1903) but he died in June 1870. After Milton’s death, Electa married Ephraim W. Masten (1840-1880).
The letter includes an excellent description of President Abraham Lincoln, of the Smithsonian Institution, and of the Overland Campaign casualties. The envelope shown here with this letter is postmarked Washington, July 1863 but it is not the envelope that carried this letter.
Addressed to Miss Electa Sherwood, Millville, Orleans Co., New York
Camp Barry Washington D. C. Sabbath afternoon, June 12th 1864
My dear friend,
I received yours of Sunday last in due season which I assure you was read with much interest. You see we are again back to Camp Barry which is through the kindness of our old friend General Auger. At the time we are dismounted. He was down to Fredericksburg, his Department having been extended as far as the Rappahannock. During his absence, Brig. General [Albion P.] Howe, Inspector of Artillery, was mean enough to dismount us and leave some of his New England Batteries here who were raw troops & had been drilled but little—particularly the 16th Massachusetts.
On the return of General Auger, the 16th Massachusetts received orders to proceed at once to Fort Lyon and relieve us. They did not propose to go and appealed to the War Department for redress but were threatened with worse unless they obeyed immediately. They reached Fort Lyon on the evening of the first of June & on the following day we proceeded to the place, not on foot, but had a pleasant ride up the river on a boat. General Auger ordered the Captain to make out requisitions for the same material we had before—guns, horses, & ordnance stores. When he saw the 17th New York Vol. Battery again, he wished them to be as he saw them last, which was at Fairfax Court House. I think I wrote you about drilling on exhibition for General Auger and Tyler which was really exciting, if I do say it [myself]. We did perform admirably.
We have the same horses except some few new ones which are splendid animals. I could not find my team in the corral. As near as I could ascertain, they were sent to Fortress Monroe. I have another pair though, much better. We have the same guns and much better harness. In fact, we are again the 17th New York Battery.
The wounded of the army still pour in here every day. I have been watching the roll of honor to see if I could find any I was acquainted with but have not as yet except General [Robert Ogden] Tyler is wounded and two-thirds of the officers of the Irish Brigade are either killed or wounded. Captain Star has been in the Lincoln hospitals nearby us. I don’t know but he is there yet. Quite a number of the 8th were at the Emory Hospitals but I understand they were sent to Philadelphia and New York. Yesterday one man in this company by the name of Moore has lost a son in that regiment. There are also five other men that have brothers in that regiment they have not heard from.
We have heard but little news from the army for the past week. Many in Washington would have Grant defeated but I am confident of final success.
I am glad to hear that Pa’s finger has got well. It has bothered my brains considerable.
CDV of Dr. Robert Jefferson Breckinridge
I have not heard any news from the 2nd Mounted Rifles since we left Fairfax. I expected they would get into trouble by what we head at that time. It’s really too bad though that they have been so unfortunate. The officers are more to blame than the men.
I have been down to the Capitol this forenoon to hear Dr. [Robert Jefferson] Breckinridge from Kentucky—an uncle of John C. preach. His text was the 15th verse of the first chapter of the First Epistle of Paul to Timothy. The discourse was very interesting. There was the largest audience present I ever saw filling the Hall of Representatives. Abraham Lincoln was present with the members of cabinet & many other distinguished men. The singing was congregationalist of old and familiar music which sounded heavenly. Oh! I wish you could of been there.
“The President came in shortly after services had commenced as sly as a cat…After services he arose from his seat and assumed his characteristic Indian gait and left the crowd as soon as possible, shaking hands with a few lady acquaintances as he came in contact with them.”
The President came in shortly after services had commenced as sly as a cat. I don’t believe there were forty persons in the House saw or recognized him unless they were acquainted with him and their eyes directly upon him when he entered the door. He was dressed very common—not as cleanly as the general average of common folks. I saw him at the White House yesterday. He had just got out of his carriage all covered with dust & sweat. Today he had on the same suit. After services he arose from his seat and assumed his characteristic Indian gait and left the crowd as soon as possible, shaking hands with a few lady acquaintances as he came in contact with them.
You ask me to give you a description of the Smithsonian Institute, it’s object &c. It is a very fine building situated in a field of about twenty acres on or near the bank of the river, about the center of the city on a line drawn east and west. It is built of freestone and has the appearance of a castle or of some building of ancient architecture. It was originated by John Smithson of London who had given his whole life to the study of science which was his ambition seeming to increase until the day of his death. During his life he had accumulated an immense fortune which he was about to bequeath to the London Royal Society but on account of some misunderstanding, he abandoned that idea. He left it with his nephew and in case of his death it was to fall to the Government of the United States for the purpose of founding the above Institution. The nephew died and in accordance to his will, the United States received the legacy which was appropriately as requested by Smithson. A certain sum—I forget how much, I think though it was $500,000—was expended in the building and the rest to be kept on interest, the interest to pay the expenses. I have not been in the different apartments. The principle object of the Institute is the effusion of knowledge in sciences for which there are apartments containing necessary apparatus & libraries. There is also a large lecture room constructed on an improved plan that gives volume to the voice of the speaker when lectures are given twice a week during the long evenings of the year.
A CDV of the Smithsonian Institute as it appeared after the January 1865 fire. Notice that the roof is missing in the center of the building.
There is also a large museum containing all sorts of curiosities mostly from foreign countries. There is also a gallery of art containing paintings of any different renowned artists. I have not been through any of the apartments [so] I cannot give you much idea of the museum but I will promise you if I live to see you again and have my health, I will bring you down here to see it yourself. I can’t write anymore now.
Excuse careless writing and composition and remember me, your constant friend—Milton
Please electioneer all you can for Lincoln & Johnson. He is indeed the greatest man the country has known since the days of Washington. My love to all.
This letter was written by Nathan Howard, Jr. (1808-1876), a prominent New York City attorney, and the son of Nathan Howard (1781-1852) and Bersheba Rose (1781-1862) of Stephentown, Rensselaer county, New York. Nathan Jr. married Frances Taylor Doty (1807-1876) in November 1832 and together they had at least eight children, though several of them died young as was common.
Nathan Jr. wrote the letter to his brother, Jerome Bonaparte Howard (1819-1864) who, in 1850, lived in Zanesville, Ohio, with his first wife, Frances Elizabeth Howard (1820-1899). From Nathan’s letter we learn that his brother Jerome was living in Indiana in 1861 but before year’s end he had married his second wife, Elmira (“Mira”) Abigail Young (1841-1921), 22 years his junior, of Huron county, Ohio.
In researching Jerome, I discovered that he enlisted on 29 September 1862 (when he was 44 years old) as a private in Co. C, 123rd Ohio Infantry (another source says he enlisted 11 February 1864). He was captured sometime in 1864 and died of disease in Andersonville Prison on 19 October 1864. His wife never remarried and was licensed to practice Homeopathy in Missouri in 1896.
In his letter, Nathan Jr. conveys the news of his grandson Harry M. Freeman’s death, the first-born son of his daughter Sarah Ann (Howard) Freeman. He also wrote that his eldest daughter, Caroline Frances Howard (b. 1833), the wife of Rowland M. Stover, had lost her first-born child, Howard Rowland Stover.
The political content of this letter pertains to Abraham Lincoln’s journey from Illinois to Washington City to attend his inauguration in 1861. He writes of the speech Lincoln gave in Indianapolis—his first since being elected President—and of the icy reception he received in New York City where most of the social elite held a negative view of the Westerner.
[Note: This letter is from the private collection of Justin Hawkins and is published by express consent.]
Transcription
New York [City] 112 Broadway February 20, 1861
Dear Brother,
Having just finished a letter to Verona, I next write to you. Sarah Ann’s little boy—Harry Molten Freeman, 2 year, 5 months & 7 days old died of lung fever day before yesterday, Monday (18th inst.) and yesterday we attended his funeral and accompanied him to Greenwood where he was put in a vault until such time as a burying place can be selected. The little fellow was the picture of health prior to his sickness, and being taken very sick from the start, which continued just two weeks, and dying so sudden comparatively, the event has left us all sad & sorrowful—especially it is a very heavy blow to the parents. You probably recollect that Sarah married Wm. S. Freeman; this was their only child. 1
Caroline also lost a little boy—her first child—some three years since. She has now a little boy [Louis Marvin Stover] about 3 years old. There has been no change in our family (other than as above mentioned since I wrote you last. All the children are at home with us—the married portion, in addition to being members of the family, call themselves boarders, I suppose.
I believe it was about Christmas (last) that I received your last letter (which is not now before me); for I remember it was in my office (put through the door) when I returned from Stephentown. On Monday the 24th of December, I took a fair sized turkey from here, and went to Stephentown, and the next day, Tuesday, Christmas, we had it cooked, and Mother & Verona & myself, sat down and ate as much of it for dinner as we wanted, and left about 3/4 of it, after feeding Bull (for I have there a middling sized bull dog, with a big head & square nose, black & white, called “Bull”) to be taken care of in future meals. On Wednesday, the 26th, I came home.
This is the last visit I have made to Stephentown. Mother is very well this winter, and so is [sister] Verona. Orra is getting along very well. Aunt Mercy (Rose) died on the 26th of December, the day I left Stephentown. It was supposed she would die hourly when I was there, having had something of a paralytic stroke. She had been lame for two years, occasioned by a fall which broke her hip, after which she could walk only by pushing a chair. She would have been 84 years old the 2nd day of April next had she lived. She died at the old Grandfather Rose house and was buried on the hill in front og it.
Mother will be 80 years old the last day of June next if she lives. This will do for family matters.
“How do the Republicans in Indiana like the complexion of things by this time? Old Abe gave them a little hint of coercion in his Indianapolis speech. Since then his speeches—if they can be called such—convey to my mind, and I think to many others, his utter incapacity for the duties of the office to which he is elected.”
How do the Republicans in Indiana like the complexion of things by this time? Old Abe gave them a little hint of coercion in his Indianapolis speech. 2 Since then his speeches—if they can be called such—convey to my mind, and I think to many others, his utter incapacity for the duties of the office to which he is elected. He arrived in New York City yesterday with comparatively very little excitement, less enthusiasm, and is now at this hour I presume, at the City Hall, not far from my office, shaking hands with those of the citizens who choose to call for that purpose. My curiosity to see the man does not lead me sufficiently strong to go to the City Hall and he will probably leave tomorrow unseen by me unless by accident. 3
As I intimated to you before, and as I firmly believe now, Abraham Lincoln will be the President, and the government under him, will be the government only of those states who cast their votes for him—the Northern free states. Every day’s proceedings at Washington or elsewhere—and I watch them closely—convinces me that the whole 15 slave states will be a unit in a Southern Confederacy with two months. And I don’t think the people can be brought to adopt civil war for the purpose coercing the seceding states. Our government is not strong enough for such a purpose. It never was framed upon the principle of military power, but upon the sentiment of the people. I don’t well see how the southern states could do any different than to claim proper guarantee for their rights before acknowledging a government brought into power against their consent and against their threats & entreaties on a platform & principles directly at war with their domestic institution.
I have got to the end & will close, Your brother, — N. H. Jr.
1 Harry Molten Freeman was buried on 14 June 1861 in Section 171, Lot 12902 of Brooklyn’s Greenwood Cemetery—one of the first rural cemeteries in America. Harry was born on 11 September 1858 and died on 18 February 1861. He was the son of William Sidney Freeman (1834-1876) and Sarah Ann Howard (1835-1903) who married in October 1857.
2 Lincoln’s Indianapolis Speech, delivered on 11 February 1861 from the balcony of the Bates House to a large audience assembled in the street, explored the question of what is the meaning of “invasion” or “coercion” when it comes to the government holding its own forts, or retaking those forts, which belonged to it. It was a relatively short speech, engendering as much laughter as applause in his unique style of delivery (much as he Lincoln-Douglas Debates for which he became famous). This may not have not sit well with Eastern folks, causing them to question if he was a leader capable of rising to the crisis that faced the Nation.
3 Lincoln and his wife and children spent arrived in NYC on 19 February 1861 and spent the night at the Astor House after riding through a crowd estimated at 250,000 people. After his breakfast on the 20th, he went to City Hall to meet with the Mayor, Fernando Wood, who was a leader in the Democratic Party and consequently gave Lincoln a cool reception—even insulting and condescending. After Mayor Wood urged a compromise with the South, Lincoln responded that he would never give up the Union.
A tintype of Jacob J. White of Co. G, 8th Illinois Cavalry [Sold at Cowan’s Auction in 2017]The author of this letter is did not sign it but it is thought to have been written by Mervin D. Overacker (1834-1890) who was known to have been a correspondent with John T. Becker. Mervin enlisted on 23 September 1861 in Troop M, 8th Illinois Cavalry. According to the Illinois Veterans Index, Mervin was a 5′ 7″ tall, blue-eyed school teacher who, like Becker, was born in New York but resided in South Grove, Illinois, when he enlisted.
In his letter, Mervin describes the route taken from Illinois to the Nation’s Capitol in October 1861 and even mentions marching in front of “Uncle Abe” as he stood on the front steps of the White House, apparently anxious to see some of the boys from his home state of Illinois.
Historians will recall that it was a member of the 8th Illinois Cavalry who fired the first shot at the Battle of Gettysburg, being a part of Buford’s Cavalry Division.
The letter was written to John T. Becker (1839-1917) of South Grove, DeKalb county, Illinois who later enlisted in Co. G, 105th Illinois Infantry.
[Editor’s Note: The Header Image is Keith Rocco’s painting of the 8th Illinois Cavalry in the fighting at Beverly’s Ford near the Rappahannock River on 9 June 1863.]
TRANSCRIPTION
Washington D. C.
October 26th 1861
Mr. John T. Becker
Dear Sir,
As I have a little leisure this morning, I will endeavor to fulfill my promise to you by the way of writing and renewing our correspondence.
We are safely landed at the Federal Capitol learning some of the realities of camp life. I will give some of the particulars of our journey here. I left Cherry Valley [Winnebago county, Illinois] at noon on the 14th of October, got to the junction just in time to meet the Regiment from St. Charles. Arrived in Chicago at 5 P. M. After marching some two or three miles through town, we arrived at the depot of Pittsburg, Fort Wayne, & Chicago Railroad and left there at 8 o’clock with two trains to carry the soldiers and one train for baggage. All were in the highest spirits. All seemed perfectly willing to quit the endearments of home to serve in the defense of the good cause in which we are engaged.
We arrived in Pittsburg the second morning, not much of note occurring except that we were cheered from every village and hamlet that we passed plainly saying by natural landguage, “go on, we bid you God speed.” On arriving at Pittsburg we formed in marching order and marched to the City Hall where was spread before us a splendid repast and a general supply of religious papers & tracts given by the Good Samaritan women.
From there we proceeded down the Baltimore Railroad, passing down the Blue Juniata until we came to the Allegheny River. Then passing down it, arrived the next day at noon at Harrisburg—the Capitol of Pennsylvania. From then to Baltimore, arriving there Thursday at 11 o’clock P. M.
Baltimore is a very large and pretty city—the best town we passed on our journey. We arrived in Washington on Friday morning, 18th of October. We first repaired to the Soldier’s Home and took breakfast. Then filed out in marching style and marched to the Capitol, thence to the White House. As we approached, Uncle Abe made his appearance on the front porch and as we passed around, we gave him three hearty cheers—each company in succession. Then we marched 3½ miles northwest of the city, just opposite of Arlington Heights on a very prominent elevation and went into camp where we will remain, I suppose, until we are sufficiently drilled to go into active service.
There has not been any very decisive battles fought yet though there has been several pretty hard skirmishing—one last night—but we have not the particulars of it yet. There will be some hard fighting here soon for two days ago there was some thirty thousand men sent over the river and last, in consequence of a report that the rebels were trying to effect a crossing some 12 miles below, there was an order issued for ninety thousand men to march against them from this side of the Potomac. We will know more soon. My time now is up. [no signature]
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