Henry Clay Long (1838 - 1862)

Born 12 Jun 1838 in Buckfield, Oxford, Maine

Ancestors

Husband of Deborah Packard (Whitman) Hay — married 11 May 1861 in Buckfield, Oxford, Maine

Problems/Questions Profile manager: Joel Bridgham [send private message]

Biography

NAME
Henry Clay Long
Henry C. Long^[1]

BIRTH
ABT 1838 Maine^[2]
12 JUN 1838 Buckfield, Oxford, Maine^[3]

DEATH
7 JUL 1862 ^[4]

OCCUPATION
1860 Boot maker^[5]

RESIDENCE
1840 Buckfield, Oxford, Maine^[6]
1850 Buckfield, Oxford, Maine^[7]
1860 Buckfield, Oxford, Maine^[8]

FAMILY

Husband
Henry Clay Long

Marriage
11 MAY 1861 Buckfield, Oxford, Maine^[9]
1861 ^[10]

NOTES

From "American Civil War Soldiers,"

Name: Henry Long ,

Residence: Buckfield, Maine

Enlistment Date: 29 Oct 1861

Side Served: Union

State Served: Maine

Service Record: Enlisted as a Musician on 29 October 1861 at the age of 23.

Enlisted in Company Band, 11th Infantry Regiment Maine on 29 Oct 1861.

Died of disease Company Band, 11th Infantry Regiment Maine on 7 Jul 1862 at New York, NY.

A note accompanied the sale of one of his letters on ebay in Feb., 2018. We don't know it's sources. Need to verify.

Henry Clay Long (1838-1862) was the son of Miles Long (1804-1877) and Anna Bridgham (1810-1851) of Bucksfield, Oxford county, Maine. In 1861, Henry married Deborah (“Dora”) Packard Whitman (1837-19xx), the daughter of Joshua E. Whitman (1788-1858) and Catharine Pratt Davee (1791-1878). From the 1860 Census we learn that before the Civil War, and before their marriage, both Henry and Dora worked in the boot shop of Deborah’s relative, Elijah P. Whitman. Henry was a boot maker and Dora was a boot fitter.

In November 1861, Henry enlisted as a 3rd Class musician in the 11th Maine Infantry on 29 October 1861. His motivation for enlisting was clearly for financial gain, though he did condemn the traitorous actions of those that brought on the rebellion. A 3rd Class musician-the most highly skilled-was eligible for $34/month in the service which appears to have been considerably more than he was earning as a boot maker.

Not long after Henry arrived with his regiment in Washington D. C. in October 1862, however, he learned that Congress was considering the passage of a Bill to discharge all of the regimental bands. It seems that most of the regiments were accompanied by bands which prompted the Secretary of War and General McClellan to question the necessity of these highly-paid non-combatants. By early 1862, there were reported to be as many as 17,000 band members in the regiments reporting for duty, costing the government an estimated $5.5M a year in wages, not to mention subsistence.

Ironically, when the 11th Maine was sent to the peninsula in the spring of 1862, the regimental band was forbidden to play their instruments by order of Gen. McClellan who desired not to give away the positions of the Union army. As such, Henry and his fellow band members tagged along with the regiment as they advanced towards Richmond serving no useful function until the Battle of Fair Oaks where they were caught in the maelstrom of the Confederate attack and ran from the field with their comrades, leaving their instruments, their personal baggage, and the stretchers they might have used to attend to the wounded.

Unfortunately for Henry, he was never able to get the discharge he desired and spoke of in nearly every single letter he wrote to his wife. After the setback at Fair Oaks, the 11th Maine was sent to the rear on the Chickahominy River where he contracted typhoid fever and died within a matter of about a month. He died on 7 July 1862 in New York City while in the service.

In March 1867, Dora married Henry E. Hay of Lynn, Mass., a veteran of the war, having served as a sergeant in Co, I, 4th Mass Heavy Artillery.

Henry C. Long wrote several letters that sold on ebay in July, 2015, and on later dates as well.

Camp Washburn, Augusta [Maine]

October 6th 1861

Dearest Wife,

The regiment does not go until next Monday. Therefore, I can go home again. You need not look for me until I come for I do not know what day I can get off. I am better than I was yesterday but I am not well now and it makes me feel homesick. If I felt well, it would not seem so lonesome. It is a going to be a pleasant day and I wish you could be here with me but I must not be homesick now. If I do, I can not stand it when I get out there. I cannot write anymore. This is all of the paper that I could find. I do not believe the regiment will go soon as that but they may. But I hope not. I will write no more this time. So goodbye. - Henry

Prince,

I wrote you last. I have been quite sick with bad cold and sore throat.

Camp Knox,

Washington [D.C.]

October 14th 1861

Dear Wife,

I have taken the first opportunity possible to write you which I suppose that you are anxious to hear from me and if I am well and how I like &c ___. I am well considering the long tedious ride I have had. We got here Saturday morning at 3 o’clock and went into camp in the afternoon. We are encamped on Meridian Hill, 3 miles from the city. I like as well as I expected. It was colder here yesterday than I see it in Augusta while I was there and it is not much better today. We have not fared very well since we got here. All that I had breakfast this morning was hard bread and coffee but they say we shall fare better when we [get] better settled. I expect that I shall want something to eat besides my rations, but I shall try to keep up good courage and stand it as well as possible and I am not going to be homesick if I can help it. And I want you to do the same if it is in your power.

It is worth something to come out here [if] only to see the country and especially the Capitol. I went up on the dome of the Capitol yesterday and it was worth five dollars. I could look over into Virginia and as far as I could it was covered with tents in all directions. But they told me that what I could see was not a handful compared with the great army’s. I could see down the Potomac [River] a long ways - could see Alexandria, Arlington Heights, and all round the vicinity of Washington!

We were used well on the road as far as eatables was concerned. We had a colation [cotillion?] in Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore.” Baltimore is the dirtiest city that I ever saw in all my travelings. It is made of dirt, pigs, and niggers. I want you to write as soon as you can conveniently how you got along in moving and how you got home and all of the news. I have not much to write this time but will more next time. I don’t know how long we shall stay here. Perhaps it will be all winter & perhaps not 3 weeks.

I have signed allotment roll in Augusta so that you will draw thirty dollars per month of my wages, so I shall have four dollars left to spend if I want to. I think the money is sent to you from Augusta. I suppose that you have seen all of the Buckfield folks by this time. Give my respects to all of them. All of the band are writing home. [Alexander] Fuller is homesick as he can be. He just said that he would give five dollars if he could go home. He will be a regular baby. I don’t believe that he will feel any worse that I shall but he will make more fuss than all the rest of the band. They are writing with lead pencils as well as me so you must excuse all mistakes and write me very soon.

I can not think of any more now so goodbye and accept this from your affectionate husband, - Henry

Direct your letter to H. C. Long, 11th Maine Regiment Band, Washington D. C.

[1st November, 1861 - no dateline, probably missing first half of letter]

… I and [Roscoe G.] Buck went over to see Charles Bridgham ¹ and Al Buck last Friday. They are encamped about a mile from us. They was very glad to see us. I quip that they were some homesick. Charley had just got a letter from his girl and it made him feel lonesome. Addie Williams’ father is a private in our regiment, so Charles said. I have not seen him nor should I know him if I did. Charlie met with a mishap the other day. He went down to the city without a pass and consequently got put in the lockup. He was not in there but a little while. I could not help laughing to hear him tell his adventure. I don’t think that he will be caught in that scrape again. He is a going to be a bugler in his company so he will not have to carry a rifle.

I can write no news about the army for you get more news there than I do here. We do not know what is going on outside of our encampment. The papers contain nothing of importance. They had a little skirmish over the side of the river last week but it was not much of a fight - a few killed and wounded. It is impossible for us to know much about what is going on. If they make any movement, it is not allowed to be circulated in the papers. Regiments are coming in here and going off every day. Over twenty thousand troops went over the river last week. The general opinion here is that there will be a great battle before the first of January and some think the war will be ended by that time but I do not believe any such thing. But I hope hat it will be so.

I have been here a fortnight and it seems as if I had been here a month. That is the way it seems to all of the band, but they all appear to enjoy it and I guess that they all do. There has none of them been sick. I expect that they will be paid off this week. If we do, you will get some money soon. They keep a month’s pay behind so you will receive about forty dollars, I guess, and if there is anything that you want, I want you to get it. I do not want you to deprive yourself os a single thing for the sake of keeping money for me. It is yours as much as it is mine and I am not afraid that you will spend it for anything that you do not need. When you receive, I want you to write as soon as you get it for if there is anything about the arrangement that is not right, I shall want to know it and shall feel anxious about it after we are paid off.

I cannot think of anything more this time but i will write often and I know you will do the same. Sometimes when they all get letters, it makes me feel lonesome. I expect that it is because there is none for me. You know that I have not had but one. I wish that I could hear from you every night but that is impossible and I will not ask it. I know that you will write as often as you can. I want to know how you get along and all the news. So goodbye for a little while. My love to all.

- Henry

Tell Andrew that I am going to write to him by and by. Tell him if he knows when he is well of that, he better not enlist for he could not stand it.

Camp Knox

Washington [D.C.]

November 24th 1861

Dearest Debbie,

I received your letter this morning and was very glad to hear from you and that you was well and arrived home safe and well and that you did not have to move your things for I was worrying about it thinking that you would do it all yourself and by so doing make yourself sick. I think that Mr. Kimball will take good care of them.

I was not surprised to hear that you were loved by your acquaintances in Gardiner. I knew it before and if they knew you as well as I do, they would love you a great deal better. You need never lack for friends as long as life is yours. I never had a friend before that was a friend. Friendship will not fill your title as regards to me - wife, mother, sister, and all you have been and are to me. And I love you more now than ever. Nor time will not eradicate but strengthen it.

I cannot say that I have no been homesick but I can say that I shall not be so any more than I can help, and I don’t want you to worry one might about me. I have enough to eat now and I sleep warm nights. It is not so cold now as it was when we got here, but they say that we have some very cold weather here as well as down east. It does not seem to me that I am so far from home until I look back and think of the journey I had which I shall never forget. The night before we started there was not one of us slept a wink for we had to pack our baggage at 8 o’clock Tuesday night. All but our tents were put aboard the cars so we had nothing to sleep on. But I stood it considerable well. We rode two nights in the cars besides.

There is considerable many in our regiment that is sick in the hospital but not dangerously.

Almost all of the band fellows got a letter last night. Mine came but the chaplain did not give it to me and I am a going to blow him up for it. I went to church today. The whole regiment has to go to. The church is as large as the parade ground and the walls are as high as the sky. Last Thursday we went to a review - five regiments of us - and we have another next Tuesday. All of the regiments on this side of the Potomac [River] will be there - forty thousand of them will be in all. I do not mean all of the troops on this side of the river but all in and near Washington. They will be reviewed by McClellan and the President so we have got to scour up our horns and look as well as possible.

I saw the President and his wife the other day. They rode by our encampment in great shape. Servant girl (I expect it was), two drivers, a span of black horses, and a better carriage than there is in Buckfield “I’ll bet!” He looks just like the pictures of him that I have seen before. He is nothing but a man, but I expect he is a good one.

I guess you would laugh if you could see how we get along. Our table is on the ground just where we are a mind to have it and when we eat, some are on a stone, some are on a woodpile, and anywhere and anyhow. We have got a fireplace in our tent. We made it by digging a ditch from the inside of the tent out and then covering it with brick. It is not very nice but it helps to keep our toes warm these long evenings when we are playing cards and smoking and raising Ned. We have some good times when we forget home and those that are far, far away. But it does not last a great while at a time. There is some long faces sometimes but I guess that they will outgrow it in the course of three years if we should have to stay so long. But I hope that we shall not have to stay so long as that, and I don’t believe that we shall.

[Alexander] Fuller wants to go home now. He told me last night that he would give me five dollars if he would get him discharged. He says that he is sick and that he spits blood but I don’t think that he can get his discharge but still he may. I should advise him to if he can. He is a nice man but he is not fit to go to battle. I should like to stay here about six months - long enough to make it pay for my coming out here.

The Band Boys are all writing home today. We don’t have a very good table to write on. I am up in one corner sitting on my straw tick with my knapsack on my knees for a table, so you must excuse my poor writing on that. Some are writing on the drum and some on a chest but I think that mine is as comfortable as any of them.

I hardly know what to tell you about going to work for Allen & Thomas. I want you to go where you can content yourself the best but there is one thing I don’t want and that is I don’t want you to work atall if you have got to work as you did when you worked for them before. I should like to have you keep house by yourself for you would not have to work so hard as you would at home if you can go to house keeping and work a little just when you are a mind to. I will have no objections and I want you to make such arrangements with them if you do any work. Don’t go to working hard, will you? Do just as you want to in everything else but don’t work hard and you will be well again.

I will write again soon and you will do the same without fail. It is so dark that I cannot see to write anymore so good night, dear one.

That picture is a good one and they all said so and that it was a good looking one to and it is.

- Henry

Washington [D. C.]

December 1st 1861

Dearest Wife,

I have done as you wished me to do - not to wait for your letters. I have not received any from you this week although I suppose you have written before this.

My health is good except a slight cold and that is the prevailing disease among us all. The weather is so unchangeable is what causes it. Last Monday night it snowed and last Friday night we had a thunder shower. So one day is it cold and the next warm and pleasant as can be. But I think I can stand it better now. We have got a floor to our tent. We have had to sleep on the ground until last night. Yesterday a New Jersey Regiment that was encamped close by us struck tents and moved farther down the river so we Band fellows just went over and took a few boards that was left and made us a good floor. I don’t expect that we shall have to sleep on the ground again this winter for the talk is that we are going into winter quarters ¹ on the same ground. They are a going to build barracks for all of the soldiers. If they do, we can live as nice as can be.

Perhaps you think that I have a hard chance and fare hard. To be sure, it is not like living at home. But I am living a hundred times better than any there is in the regiment. I cannot help thinking sometimes how much better I fare than some of them poor fellows in they regiment & they are granted no liberties at all and have to do guard duty. They have to stand guard all night in the cold and rain. They are there at all hours. I went by some of their tents the other day. It had rained the night before and they were full of mud. Their beds were wet through. they had to lay there or sit up, just as they chose. They was no other place for them.

I have not been down to the city but once since I have been here. Last night a few of us got the countersign and went down. If a soldier is caught in the city without a pass or countersign, he is put in the lockup and kept until his colonel takes him out. We traveled round what we wanted to and some of them proposed that we should go to the theater as there was one that night. So we all went. It was very good and served to drive dull care away for a couple of hours. Then we came home and camped down to dream of, “Home, Sweet Home,” and the loved ones that we have left far, far behind. I dreamt of seeing you and that we was having a sleigh ride. Perhaps it will come to pass before spring if the brass bands are cut down as they all think that they will be. I should not be surprised is my dream comes to pass. But I shall not come until I am sent as long as I can have the pay that I now get, nor would you advise me to, would you?

Mr. [Alexander] Fuller is going home if he can get his discharge. [Our band leader, ] McDonald has given his consent. Also the colonel. And I expect that he will go before long. They all think that he is homesick but he denies that it is so. The boys plague him some. [letter unsigned; probably missing a page]

¹(A regimental history states that, “On New Year’s Day, 1862, …the brigade went into winter quarters in Carver Barracks, on the crown of Meridian Hill. Each regiment was now domiciled in a dozen or fourteen one-story wooden houses; shell-like structures of from fifty to sixty feet in length, twenty-five or thirty feet in width, and separated from each other by a street of perhaps twenty-five feet in width.”)

Washington D. C.

December 11, 1861

Dear Wife,

I have got a few moments to spare before the mail goes and have got to write fast to get it into the office. I have nothing particular to write this time-only that we were paid off today. We were paid up to the last day of October which makes them in debt to us for almost 2 months wages. We shall be paid again the first of next month and then we shall receive two months pay. The Allotment Roll did not take affect this payment. Therefore, it was all paid to us. My payment amounted to $48.72 and I have sent $45.00 of it to you by Col. Wilde of Gov. Washburn’s staff. He is going to Maine this week. He takes money to carry home for any that wants to send. The Band has sent five hundred and fifty dollars-as much as any one company has sent. You probably will get yours next week sometime. I guess that I have got money enough to last me until I get paid again. If I get broke, I will send to you for some more. All that I want is enough to buy my tobacco and a few little things.

I looked rather bad to see some of the men in the regiment that their wages came to perhaps ten dollars and they were owing nine of it to the sutler and they had to step up and pay it. They had spent all of their wages for things that has only been a curse to them. It has learnt them a good lesson which they will not forget while they are encamped for this war. There was some of the Band that was in debt to some four or five dollars but I did not owe one cent of my pay nor shall I ever as long as I can get corned beef and hard bread to eat.

I am writing in a hurry and cannot write but a little. It is so dark that I cannot see very well. My health is first rate and like the same. Weather is fine-no snow yet. Charles Bridham and Lu Buck was over to see us this afternoon. Charles thought that he was foolish for enlisting but I quip that he was not in earnest about it. I think that we shall all be sent home before next spring-all the bands, I mean. I presume that you would not care if we got home before? Keep up good courage, dearest one, and goodbye again. I will write you again Sunday. - Henry

Write soon, won’t you?

Washington D. C.

December 15, 1861

Dearest Wife

Your letter that I have been looking for all the week has at last arrived. I received it this morning and I was very glad to know that your health was so very good and I hope that this will reach you soon and find you still enjoying good health, happiness, and everything. My health is good and never was any better. All that troubles me is that I am a little lonesome sometimes (as well as you). I suppose that all of them are so more or less. I have nothing new to say. It looks just the same and I don’t see as it looks any more like war than it did in Augusta-only I see more troops.

I had rather of a hard walk yesterday. We went on a review. There was eight thousand of us. After the review we went down town and marched all over the City-the whole of them-and I suppose they thought they made a great show but I was about tired to death when I got home. I do not fancy such tramps very often.

I thought that you would like to see how we looked out here so I send you a picture of our encampment. It looks very natural-only it looks better. A man came round selling them so I of course thought of you. You can cut it off and have quite a picture. The encampment fronts to the south.

[John] LaMountain made a balloon ascension the other day. He went as near the rebel lines as he dared to and then went up. He passed over our encampment about four o’clock in the afternoon. It was a sight that I never witnessed before. He was so far up that I could not see him. All that I could see was the balloon. He came down about sunset and struck but a little ways from us. He stayed with one of the Pennsylvania regiments all night which is not more than ½ a mile from us.

I have written you twice a week ever since I have been here. Have you got them all? I wrote you last week about our being paid off. Col. Wilde is going this week so you will probably get your money this or next. There is no trouble but what you will get it so you need not give yourself any uneasiness about it. If anybody gets it, you will. You did not write whether you are keeping house or not or whether you had got your things home.nor anything about the weather. I hear that the snow is all gone. Is it so? There is none here and it is quite pleasant. Do you not think that it will be too hard for you to keep house and work in the shop? Had you not better get a good boarding place and not keep house? But I will not advise you for you know best. Do just as you want to, only don’t work hard and get sick. Do not go to the shop when you are not well, will you? I wish that you were not in that old shop. I do not have a very good opinion of it for I cannot help thinking that they will want you to work when you are not able but you must give them to understand that you have got some grit.

I get along tip top with my washing and mending. I have mended my stockings but once but have got to mend a pair today. I took up a pair the other day and washed them and I noticed that there was a little hole in the toe (about as big as nine shillings) but I can soon remedy that you know after I get out my needle. None of my clothes have come to mending yet.

We have got the best Band there is anywhere around here. They all compliment our playing very highly. We have not got into our barracks yet and we shall not probably for some time yet for we cannot get boards to build with. They will be just as good as houses to live in but perhaps we shall not be here to enjoy them for I see by the papers that there is a Bill before Congress to expel all the Bands. If so, we shall stand a good chance to be sent home. You don’t know how much I want to go home but I do hate to lose my pay that I am getting. If I go home, I cannot get anything to do. Therefore, I should feel very bad. I should not know what to do.

I wrote to Wallace Allen and forgot to let him know how to direct his letter. You tell him how. Also I wrote to Elijah [Whitman] the same way. When Anna writes, tell her to tell him how. Ask Wallace [Allen] if he goes over to David Records now after any cider and eggs. You wanted to know how the soldiers’ families get along without money but that is a question that I cannot answer. A great part of them sends their money home but I suppose that some of them fare hard. What kind of work does Allen & Thomas have? Is it all government work?

I cannot think of anything more this time so goodbye, my best little woman in the world. I would give anything if I could see you. It seems a long time since I saw you but I must not give up to such thoughts now. I try to smother them all I can but they blaze up very very often. Goodbye. Write often and everything you can think of. Anything about the Buckfield folks will interest me most assuredly.

Yours in love &c. - Henry

Washington D. C.

December 22, 1861

Dearest Wife,

Yours of the 18th is at hand and was received yesterday morning with pleasure. It arrived here Friday night but the mail was not distributed until the next morning. I was happy beyond measure to know that you were enjoying such good health and I fervently hope that it will continue the same and that nothing will happen to deprive you of so great a blessing. I begin to feel that my anticipations are not in vain in hoping that when I see you again the flush of health will dye your cheeks and that you will resume your former good health and spirits. You must do all you can to accomplish such an object. There is nothing in this world that would give me so much pleasure as to know that you were well again. Be not too ambitious to secure a livelihood. I will take that responsibility upon myself as long as I am able. Your health is a great deal more to me than money or anything else. I had rather that every cent of my hard earnings should go for your support than to have you make yourself sick again by working in that “Old Shop.”

You will probably notice that my writing is not very good but my fingers are so cold that I can hardly write at all. We have no stove and we cannot warm our tent much with the fire we have. It has been very pleasant here for a long while so that we have not needed much fire-only in the evening-but today it is quite cold and looks as if we were going to have a storm of some kind.

I cannot write any more until I get back from meeting. We have to play about an hour and a half for them and then we are done until four o’clock which then we have to go through Dress Parade. Then our day’s work is done.

I should like to be in Buckfield to have some fun skating &c. I recollect of skating last winter and falling through the ice. That was the first time that I ever fell into the water in the winter and hope it will be the last. I should think that Susannah might learn to skate very easy.

We have not got into our barracks yet nor do I know when we shall. The boards come along very slow and the work goes the same.

There is two more of our Band that have applied for their discharge. They will probably get it. One of them is our Bass Drummer; the other is the one we call Governor (I believe I have told you about him). He is now sick in the hospital with the measles. He is a good fellow and we all hate to have [him] go but he is not able to stay here and live a camp life, if he gets well. He was sick before he enlisted and we all think that he will die with consumption before many months. But we may be mistaken. I hope we are.

There has a great many of our regiment that have been sick with the measles. One of them have died with them. There has been a great deal of fault found with the physicians so the Colonel sent them to the city for examination and they were both discharged as not being fit to fill the place they occupied. The whole regiment is glad that the [surgeon] is going to leave. He is an old wooden head. It is the opinion of all that men have died when they would not if they had had proper medical aid.

Since I have been writing, a letter was just brought in for me from [my brother] George. He seems anxious about my welfare and as he usually does, gives me good advice. Says that he has been looking for you up there.

I should judge by your letter that John E. Bryant was building himself up fast. I have no better opinion of him than that he would steal. I hope that if it is true that he did do that, that they will cut both of his ears and brand him with a hot iron and send him home. What would Squatty Spalding do if they should? How did you [hear] the news about it? Will you write me next time? Does Mrs. James McDonald hear from her man?

You will get this Christmas day so I take this opportunity to wish you a “Merry Christmas.”

I suppose that you have began to think that you are never a going to get that money but you will get it this week. I know Col. Wilde did not get home probably before last night. The reason why you have not got it before is because he did not go when he said he should.

I have sent with some others of our band for the “Gardiner Home Journal” for you so you will get a letter from the 11th Regt. every week in that. James Larrabee writes to it every week. You will see his name signed Magester. You will probably get one next week. I thought that you would like to have it very much as you liked in Gardiner so well.

I have written to you twice every week and if these poor letters take any of the burden of loneliness from you, I am very glad for I have all the time to write that I want and I should lose no time in writing to you very often. And you must do the same. You must recollect that I am a little lonesome sometimes and a letter from home does me a great deal of good. But I will write no more this time so goodbye the best little woman that I ever knew or ever cared to. Excuse all mistakes and accept this. From, - Henry

P. S. Give my respects to all. Tell Wallace [Allen] that I am looking for a letter from him. I have not heard from Elijah [Whitman] yet.

Washington D. C.

December 25, 1861

Dearest Wife,

It being Christmas day, all are excused from duty until four o’clock and so I thought I would occupy a part of that time in writing to you as I presume that you will have no objections at receiving a letter from me. It is very pleasant today and the soldiers being excused from duty are passing their time in playing ball and cards and anything to pass away the time. But I have found nothing to do that would cause the hours to pass away any faster than any other day. I think that the soldiers fare better today than I do and I am glad for them.

The captains of each company give their men a “Oyster dinner” as a Christmas present. I presume that they do it more for the name of it (and thinking to secure more strongly the good will of their men) than from a feeling of generosity or charitableness, but perhaps they feel it to be their duty and do it cheerfully. I know one thing-that the most of them have not much money to spend in that way for they was not paid off when the men were on account of their not being mustered into service in season to draw pay until next pay day which is close at hand. The payrolls are being made out now and we shall be paid off again the first of next month. We shall then get pay for two months.

We have all drawed extra blankets and come very convenient. It is a little more comfortable-especially nights. There is two of us lay together and by so doing, we have four blankets to cover us and we lay as nice as need be and sleep sound. We are a going to have some good frock coats as soon as there is any to be had. They are warmer and better than the little short jackets that we have got now.

There is two more regiments encamped by the side of us. There is now almost within a stone’s throw six or seven thousand troops. Nearly one half of our Division is now encamped together. This division is commanded by General [Silas] Casey. He is an old man but I guess that he is not much of a warrior. But he looks fancy to our Band and the talk is now that he said that our Band would not be discharged as there will be two Bands in the Brigade-a Pennsylvania Band and ours. One is on the right of the Brigade, the other on the left. It is all camp talk so we can put no dependence upon what we hear.

Congress has done nothing about discharging the bands yet and perhaps they will not. But if they do, we shall have to travel, I suppose.

I wish that I could see this war ended. It would bring joy to many a hearth stone by the return of some fathers, husbands, and peace. I believe that there is nothing that would cause so much pure joy as it would to have peace return to us again. If I could return to you and resume my former place in the old shop, how much better I should feel and how much more comfort I could take. It seems that I never knew how to realize home before. But you are aware that everyone is fond of new things, new fancies and pleasures. It is natural for all to be inclined to such ideas. But I am not complaining with my lot or am I sorry that I came for necessity prompted me to do something to support myself, and it was the best thing that I could do was to come out here. But I cannot help thinking of the happy days that I have passed in Buckfield (for that is all the place in this wide world that seems like home to me) or can I help speaking of them. I should like it just as well if the wind blowed three times as hard or the snow was three times as deep. It is the remembrance of one that makes it double dear to me which with but her, it would be a dreary place for me to live. And I trust the time is not far distant-or so distant-that it cannot be counted years when I can be with her and enjoy a life of unseparated happiness. I cannot believe otherwise than this.

You must not expect me to write much news or anything else for I write so often but I will write a little at a time and often. I do not get anything worth writing about and when I sit down I hardly know how to begin. Taking these things into consideration, you must excuse me if they are not very interesting.

I expected a letter from you last night but was disappointed. It may get here tonight as you said that you were a going to write Sunday. My health is good now, better also in good spirits. I am not homesick but I should like to see you the best of anyone in the world. So I will bid you goodbye and hope in the future. You will keep up good spirits, won’t you? And think of me as little as possible as faring anyways hard. All the inconveniences that I suffer is being separated from you. Write soon and give my respects to all hands and accept this in love, hope, truth, and fidelity. - Henry

P. S. We had a severe storm last Monday night. It snowed and rained all day and in the night. I never saw the wind blow so hard in my life and thought our tent would come down in spite of all we could do. But we secured it and came out right.

Washington D. C.

Sunday, December 29, 1861

Dear Wife,

If you could have looked into out tent last Christmas eve about ten o’clock you might have seen us all sitting there patiently waiting for the mails to arrive which we thought contained for each of us a letter from the loved ones at home and our hopes were all realized but [Alexander] Fuller. He did not get any letter but the rest of us got a word from the dear ones.

Your letters are received with great joy always and at any time, whether I am feeling lonely or cheerful. If lonely, they serve to brighten up my hopes. If cheerful, they make me more so, They are a burst of sunlight upon the dark path which I am obliged to be a traveler. And I hope and trust the time will soon come when the clouds that now darken our homes and paths of peace shall be cleared away and leave them brighter than ever. It is now out lot to be separated for awhile and be deprived of the sweets of home, but such is life and we must bear the burden with courage and not by any means let it get the better of us in any respect. There is no use in talking about going home now nor you would not advise me to go even if I could for you know there is nothing that I could do there. But I long for the time to come when I can go home. But I [also] want this accursed war ended and have every traitor hanging upon a tree before I go. I have heard nothing about the Bands being discharged lately but presume that Congress will do something about it as they are a great expense to the government and of no particular use.

I received a letter from J. C. Shaw the same night I got yours. He wrote nothing particular. Said that you appeared to be in good spirits-only you wanted to see that fellow out in Washington. Also I got a letter from Wallace Allen last night. He said that he saw you about every day but he does not agree with Mr. Shaw. He said that you looked very sad. I wish that it was not so. You must not think that you have got to be alone two or three years for I know that it is not so. Perhaps I shall see you by next spring. I do not think that this war is of long duration. It will not last one year longer in my opinion and I see that it is the opinion of a great many others.

I think that you have done well since you have been in the shop and I am very glad that you are determined not to work any harder than you are a mind to and I hope that you will stand to it and you must by all means.

You must tell your mother that if she don’t come out and live with you this winter that I shall not like it and shall not go down and get any of that bread and milk when I get home if she does not think that it would be the best thing that she could do and be so much more pleasant for you. I know that you would not be so lonesome and it would seem more like home and you could live just as you are a mind to. And I don’t want you to be stingy-not a bit of it-but have just what you wish for without counting the cost. If you keep house, you must get some good dry wood and have it all sawed and split up nice. I suppose that the Rev. John Brown is still a resident of Buckfield (and will do it for you) right up to the house, as that is his business. I judge that anyone would think so by looking in to his mansion and seeing the little family. I think that anyone would say that he was master of his profession, shouldn’t you? Of course I mean wood sawyer. You know that I am not always serious nor sober but once in awhile like a little nonsense.

I got a pass and went down town one day last week and spent most of the day in seeing the sights. I visited the Capitol, Patent Office, Treasury Building, & Post Office. I cannot give you any idea of what I saw-there was so many things. There is a sample of every patent in the United States and a lot of ancient. Anyone could not look at everything there is in the Patent Office in ten years. I went into the Capitol hoping to see the members of Congress while in session but they had adjourned, therefore I did not see them. But I went in to the Hall and sat down in the Speaker’s Chair. It was a splendid place, I assure you. I wish that you could go into the Capitol and see how it looks and see the statuary and pictures. There is pictures in the rotunda such as the signing of the Declaration of Independence, saving the life of Captain Smith, and lots of others. The characters are large as life and are the handsomest of everything that I ever saw.

There is two more places that I want to visit-that is the White House and the Smithsonian Institute. I have been to the latter place but did not have time-as you will see-to go round any. Last Thursday night, Bayard Taylor gave a lecture there before the Washington [Lecture] Association and they came after our band which gladly volunteered their services to play. It was as good lecture as I ever wish to hear. There is not a man in America that has traveled over so much territory as he has. He has been in every place on this globe where any human beings ever lived or ever will. He said that he had visited every nation on earth and among all the savages that he had seen, he had never seen so low and demoralized and degraded a set as the “White Savage of the South.” I doubt not but what he told the truth. They want us to play for them again next Friday evening and we shall probably go. Horace Greeley will lecture then. I want to hear him much and expect that it will be something of a treat to hear the Old White Head spout.

I have just received your letter of the 27th and I feel ten times better than I did before. I don’t know what to say first. Yes, I do too. I am very glad that you are in such perfect health. That is the best news that you can write to me and I hope you will continue in the same path until I get home and always afterwards. I hope that when I get home that you will weigh two hundred, by Jove.

My chair is a great institution. They all want to sit in it. There is only one trouble with it-that it is so big that it takes up all of the room in the tent. I have to put it outdoors nights so that we can have a chance [to] to make up our beds and turn in. It is a good sized one. It is about as large as a small house. I made it with the intention of going into the barbering business but I guess that I shall not for they all get shaved at the sutler’s so it lasts them a week.

I expect that we shall be going to our barracks by the first of this week and we shall be paid this week sure. Then you will get money enough to make a hundred dollars. You can let Capt. Prince or anyone else that is good have it at 6 percent, but I should like to have it in the Savings Bank but you have no way to get it there so you may put it at interest if you can, what you do not want to use. I should be somewhat particular who I let have it. You know who is good as well as I do so I will have nothing to say about it. Mr. Larrabee had a letter from Heath last and he wrote that you had subscribed for the paper three months but he did not say anything about sending one to Bucksport. I guess that he forgot that.

I have no news at all to write so I have to write just what pops into my head and is but little. I suppose that you will think that this letter is somewhat lengthy but that is nothing unnatural for me, for you [know] that is my name. I am afraid that I shall get played out before three years if I write as often as I have began. But I am a going to hang out as long as I can and I know that you will like that.

We have all got some new coats. They look well. The whole regiment have them too and it will make the regiment look a hundred percent better.

My health was never better in the world and as long as it continues so, I will find no fault with my condition. I weigh a hundred and sixty with my overcoat on but with it off I weigh 155-just what you say you do. It don’t seem possible that you are so heavy. Are you sure that you are weighed right? But I hope that it is so.

The weather is a little cooler than it has been and I don’t want to see it any more-so, but it is not Maine weather, I tell you. No snow at all.

[Roscoe] Buck got a letter last night stating that his mother was dead but I do not see as he minds much any more than if it had been somebody else. This is all the news that I can think of now and I will now close and bid you goodbye until next time and that will be soon. Hoping that I shall hear from you again very soon, yes loved one, your letters are all that I can ask [for]. I read them over & over again. [They] do me a great deal of good and you must write as often as you can, won’t you? So goodbye again and accept from - Harry

P. S. You must excuse all mistakes for I have not made them knowingly. It is my inability. Give my respects to all of the gals in the shop. Tell that old maid (if she is there) that she would stand a good chance to get a beau if she was out here for there is any quantity of he masculine gender here-only he is black.

Washington D. C.

January 1, 1861 [1862]

Dear Wife,

I can write you but a few words this morning and I have got to write fast for I have got a good deal to do today. We have got to move into our barracks ¹ this afternoon and they are not hardly finished but we shall get them very near done today. Perhaps we shall have to sleep on the floor tonight as we may not get our bunks done but if we have to sleep on the floor, it is nothing new for us, you know.

I did not get much sleep last night and I don’t think there was anyone else in our camp that did. About 8 o’clock last evening the news came into camp that Beauregard was taken prisoner. In a few minutes, it was known by all the regiments and such cheering I never heard. Bells were rung, cannons fired, bands playing and they kept us awake until about 11 o’clock. Then I went to sleep in spite of the noise and at 12 o’clock we were called out to play so we went in front of the Colonel’s quarters and played “Hail Columbia”-“Yankee Doodle”-and several other pieces. The Colonel [John C. Caldwell] then presented us with a pail full of new cider which we did not hesitate to help ourselves. The firing was kept up all night in the forts on this and the other side of the river but all this noise was not kept up on account of the news but they was bound to see the old year out and the new year in.

I never saw such weather as this for New Years Day. It is as warm as summer-the warmest day we have had for some time. I suppose there is some difference in the weather here and in Buckfield. I wish that I could be there today. I suppose that there is a dance there tonight. I hope you will go and have a good time. I wrote to J. C. Shaw last night but I could not think of much to write about as everything has got to be an old story now.

Yesterday it was quite lively in camp. As there was to be a regimental inspection, the men were busy in cleaning up. They had to clean their muskets and their trumpery and appear in the ranks the best they knew how. Also we were mustered in for our pay and we shall probably be paid tomorrow or the next day. I would not object to a little as my pile is growing short. Anyone cannot get anything here without paying twice what it is worth. The most that I buy to eat is milk. We can get any quantity of that but we have to pay ten cents a quart and the quarts are small at that. Everything is in that proportion. Butter is thirty cents per pound &c. I buy milk about every night for my supper. I can make way with a pint very easy. I grow fat on that. All of us are rather corpulent except Jim [McDonald]. He is about as fat as a match. He was awful mad the other night. He had just got a letter from his wife. She wrote that she heard he did not pay his washing bills &c. (he gets the negro women to do his washing). He thought that it was [Roscoe] Buck or Fuller that had been writing home to that affect but they had not. As far as I can learn is that Mrs. Buck does not like her boarding place very well and she will either go to his father’s or to keeping house.

I love to hear Fuller talk about Mrs. Mc[Donald]. He says that she is he damnedest fool he ever see and that she will get a thread spun off to her if he ever gets home. That will do her good. You know she thinks [her husband] James is an angel and everybody else is devils. I would not live in a neighborhood where she was anyway. Buck says that every letter that Jim gets from her she gives him a blowing up. I think that must be pleasant? I would not give my little woman for ten thousand such pieces of feminine humanity. I thank my stars that I am out of such as that and thank God for creating so good a little girl for my companion as you are.

Mrs. Mc[Donald] is going home this winter and she will probably be at Buckfield but I should not trouble about seeing her or say anything that she would make a handing off for it would come straight here. She will pick that that one else would think of. But I will say no more about her and I don’t see how I came to either, but it is necessary to find something else to write about and I suppose that you would rather it would be a more interesting subject.

The soldiers have just presented their Adjutant with a new horse-a nice one too.

I have got about played out in writing this time and shall have to dry up until Sunday. Then I will try and write some more. If such writing as mine is interesting to you, you shall have it with all my heart. I am in good health as ever and truly hope that this will find you still enjoying that which is the greatest blessing to mortals-health. The news you wrote about your health was the best that I have heard since I came out here. I could not bear the thought of ever going home and finding you in no better health [than] you was last winter. I am dreadful, dreadful glad. I will now close and bid you goodbye for awhile.

Yours very truly-Henry

P. S. I am looking for a letter tonight and I am almost sure that I shall get one. That little needle book is very handy and I do not know what I should have done if it had not been for that. Write soon.

[Mid January 1862 - partial letter]

…through these. I went to the Capitol. Congress was in session and I stayed until night to hear them talk. In the House of Representatives they were trying to abolish the franking privilege (so that we soldiers could not send anymore letters free) and in the Senate they were fighting about liberating slaves in the District of Columbia. It was quite interesting. I would give anything if you could be here and go with me and see these places. I believe that I have seen all now but the White House. I have seen that but have not been inside.

One of the clerks in the Senate told one of our fellows that all the bands would be discharged before a great while. Said that was actually so. I shall feel very sorry, but I suppose you will be glad of it. We can live a little while if they do, can’t we?

Our regiment will not leave this place before next spring for they are not fit to go into service yet. There is a great many of them sick. About three hundred of them, I believe, are on the sick list. I cannot tell how many have died but there has as many as thirty, sure! The hole regiment got cold the first day we got here and has been the cause of all the sickness.

I am glad that Wallace & Mary call on you so often and that you think so much of them. I doubt not but what they do a great deal in lightening your burden of loneliness. I wish that I had some such one here.

I suppose that Mrs. Hussey has some funny feelings and when they come on, she had rather Uncle Jim would put his leg over her than his arm, don’t you? I presume that she has such spells quite often. Jane used to.

I don’t know what to say about Mc, ¹ but what thoughts I do have are not in his favor, I assure you - or his foolish other half. I will tell you this, that after I get out of this scrape, I will never go near him again as long as I live. The more I think of them, the worse I hate them. I don’t know as they have done me a great deal of harm, or ever will, but I am sick of hearing about them. [Alexander] Fuller & [Roscoe G.] Buck know them better than I do and they don’t make much of telling me their opinion, but I will say no more on this subject for it is not worth the time it takes.

We were paid off last Monday. They paid me $8.00 and sixty has gone to you. I do not know when you will get it, but expect it will be soon - perhaps this week. There is about twenty dollars due me now on the next month. They were all paid up to the first of January and will not be paid again until March. This is all that I can think of this time, so goodbye. Write soon.

Excuse my many mistakes and accept from - Henry

I would give good deal to see you and I hope I shall before long. I will never go South if this regiment does. That is so.

¹( This might have been band leader James W. McDonald.)

This letter sold seperately, in Feb., 2018,

Washington D. C.

Sunday, January 12, 1862

Dearest Wife,

I received your letters last Wednesday night-two from you and one from the girls. I was sorry that I could not have received one of yours before but it is just as well and I am very much obliged and hope that you will continue to write as often while I am away.

I have just got in from meeting and I did not freeze as it is very pleasant-warm as summer and not a bit of snow. So you see that we have very changeable weather. One day it will be cold and the ground frozen, and perhaps the next it will rain and the mud will be knee deep. And I believe that I like such weather as they have in Maine the best. I can imagine how it looks down there today and can’t help wishing myself there for a little while at least.

I suppose that you are at [the Baptist] church today and listening to the eloquent words of the Rev. Mr. [Edward W.] Pray. But I hope that you have a more comfortable seat than I had. All the seat that I had was standing in my Bob Ridly shoes or rather Plantations. ¹ Our Colonel [John C. Caldwell] thinks that our Chaplain [Caleb H. Ellis] ought to preach short sermons when it was cold and shorter one when warm. That is my opinion-only bigger.

I am glad that you are bound not to care for that miserable Rowena Hussey. † You do just right. I would take no notice of her or speak to her at all. You can tell me nothing about her for I have been acquainted with her myself. I know that she cannot do you any harm. How natural it is for such low, miserable things [such as] she is to try and drag respectable girls and women upon the same level with themselves. She is not worthy of your notice. If she was, she would be a better woman than she is now. I presume that she has got some pretty head chasing her round, has she not?

Jim McDonald and [James M.] Larrabee and [Meltiah W.] Lawrence received a big box by Express last week. They had lots of good things-mince pies, cakes, and two hogshead cheeses. They were very liberal and gave us all a taste. I had half a mince pie last night for supper. It was quite a treat. I could not help thinking of home. It tasted so natural and not like the pies that we get of the sutler. They have things they call pies and sell them for 20 cents a piece but I do not eat a great many of them, I assure you.

I see that I was mistaken about your weight but a little either way is good. But I wish that it was more. You do not weigh enough yet to make me perfectly sure that you are entirely well. But as you are bound not to do anything that will injure your health, or work when you do not feel like it, I feel assured that good health will be yours again.

I have no war news to write this [time]. They haven’t made up any in our camp this week. They get some curious stories started here sometimes but I don’t think that I shall trouble about writing any more of them. We take the New York Daily Tribune and by the means get all the news that anyone gets. As far as I can see, the rebellion is growing weaker everyday and when our army does start, there will be something done. Burnside’s Expedition has sailed-also another down the Mississippi-and I think when we hear from them that a great blow will have been struck somewhere upon the Rebel soil. I feel strengthened every day in the belief that this war will cease soon or in less than one year. Shan’t I be glad when that times comes. I’ll bet I will. Then I can go and see somebody that I know of that is now far, far away. I suppose that I could get discharged and go now but I think that I had better wait until spring first, don’t you? I suppose that you would have no objections to my coming home and I would if I could find anything to do, but there is no use in talking. This is out of the question. Business is dead and will remain so until the war is over. But when that time comes, I shall stand just as good a chance as anyone. It will then be better times than we ever see before and I keep up good courage in thinking of that and feeling yet that there is happiness in store for us.

If this war is well ended, it will prove a blessing to us all, and more than repay us for the sorrow that we have experienced. And I feel perfectly sure that all is well and will try and forget my present lonely condition and live in hopes of a happy future and that the darkness that now o’er spreads our land may e’re long be swept away and leave it brighter [and] happier than before. When the time arrives that the thousands that are now buffeting the angry scenes of war and battle, can return to their homes and loved ones, there to part not again until called away by a higher power than that of man. When that times comes, I think that I shall be perfectly contented and happy. I see not a cloud in the horizon of that future to darken our paths to ways of happiness, prosperity, and peace. I shall endeavor always to take up in the bright side of this conflict and cheerfully desire that you will join with me in doing the same.

It is time now for us to play at Dress Parade and I will write some more this evening.

Evening. Parade is over, our supper dispatched, and I have lit my meerschaum [pipe] and taken a seat to enjoy a bit of a smoke [and] also to finish my letter. I am going to write all that I can think of as I have nothing else to take up my attention this long evening, but that will not be but a little as I wrote you before that I had nearly played out in the writing line.

We had a new order come yesterday from General McClellan. That was that all the bands must practice ambulance duty. Perhaps you do not know what that is and I will try and tell you. In time of battle, the bands are in the rear and have to help the surgeon to take care of the dead and wounded. These carriages are stationed way back out of danger or some ways from the battle ground and the wounded are taken on what they call a stretcher which is two long poles about two feet apart covered with canvass and carried and put in to the ambulance and then we have got to use an instrument made to stop the blood. Supposing a man had his leg shot away or arm. We should have to use one of these instruments and in order that if we should ever go into battle, it would be nothing new for us to use these implements. We are ordered to practice all of these things. We shall have to take a man and practice on him; lay him on a stretcher and run double quick and dump him into the carriage. That will be fun for us. I don’t think that I shall be the first one for them to practice on. This is nothing new for bands to do. The bands over the [Potomac] river have to do it and have all the time they have been out here so I understand. But I don’t believe that we shall have much such work to do in reality.

I expected a letter from you today as I thought perhaps that you had written about Thursday and it would just get here today. There is a mail comes through every Sunday just the same as any other day but I know that I shall get one by next Wednesday night. When I am looking for a letter from you, I cannot go to bed until the letters are distributed. Sometimes the mail does not get in until very late and then it takes our chaplain (for he acts as postmaster) about a week to distribute them.

I suppose that the great loss that Allen & Thomas have met with makes Charles feel rather bad. He probably feels poor enough now. I am sorry for them, but cannot help it. It will interfere with their work, will it not? I wrote to Wallace [Allen] a short time ago and expect an answer by the middle of next month.

I expect that [J. S.] Shaw is the same as ever-striving to do something wonderfully great. And I hope that he will accomplish his object. I think if the President and Cabinet knew of him that they would send for him right away to act as an advisor and counsellor? But I must not slur him for he is a very good fellow! I answered his letter some time ago and I guess that he will write again before next fall. I should think he would be lonesome now [that] he cannot quarrel with Bryant and Elijah’s being gone too.

I have not heard from Elijah [Whitman] since I have been here. I guess that he thinks that I am not worth the sacrifice of a sheet of paper and a few moment’s time. But I suppose that he is so hard at work on those Bob Ridley shoes that he cannot get time. Tell Ann when she writes to him to tell him the best wish that I wish him is that he had to sit and hear Elder [Edward W.] Pray talk three weeks. Also tell her that I have not received her letter yet but I am looking for it every day.

I have written that we was to be paid off soon every time for the last two weeks but we have not been yet and I will not say when we shall although the talk is that we shall be tomorrow. But that is the way it has been for some time and I shall not believe until I see the paymaster here with the money in his hands.

One of our band members has got his discharge and gone home (one of the Cornish men). ² He blowed the bass drum but we have another that we took out of the regiment that fills his place well. ³ [Alexander] Fuller has not got his discharge yet but probably will soon.

You did not write whether your mother was going to live with you this winter or not. Is she?

I expect that Ethie Farrar is running in opposition to Am [?] Bucks. If Buckfield had a few more such men they would need another Town Farm.

The girls wrote to me that they was at the dance and that some of aristocracy of the place was a little inebriated such as Carol Loring & John Long. I suppose that they can do all of these things and have nothing said about it but I do not care. I guess that by this time you have got tired of reading this letter and I will close by asking you to excuse all mistakes and accept from him who loves you much, -Henry

P. S. Write soon and all the news that you can think of. I will write more next time. So good night.

¹ Old Bob Ridley was a Black character made famous in the songs of Charles White, published in the 1850s. Presumably “Bob Ridley” or “Plantation” shoes referred to those commonly worn by slaves such as brogans.

² This must have been Joseph R. W. Huntress who was discharged on 11 January 1862 though the roster gives his residence as Hiram, Maine, rather than Cornish.

³ The recruited band member may have been Reuben Cross who was promoted to musician on 11 February 1862. Cross was discharged for disability in December 1862 but reenlisted in March 1864 only to be killed in the fighting at Darbytown Road on 7 October 1864.

† Rowena Jane (Farrar) Hussey (1838-1930) was the daughter of Ethie Farrar and Betsy Orson of Buckfield. She was married to Simeon Hussey.

Washington D. C.

[January] 22nd 1862

Dear Wife,

I can write you but a few lines this time as I have nothing to say that will occupy more. I wrote you before that I had been sick and I suppose you will want to know how I am getting along. I will tell you the real truth-that I have not felt any better since I have been here. I have got all well of my cold and am all right. It has not cleared off yet and has stormed now about two weeks which keeps us hemmed up in these old barracks and make us all feel lonesome. If we go out, we are liable to get in the mud over our head. I never saw mud before. I had rather live where the snow is forty feet deep in the winter than to stay here and paddle around in the mud. We have not seen the sun for a fortnight.

We have not heard anything from our petition yet nor I do not know as we shall. Our officers are mad about it and are putting more upon us to do. All of them are not, but the Adjutant ¹ is doing more than all the rest. The band is under him and they are about everyone down on him. He came from Portland and I don’t believe that they [could] find another so big a nuisance there. You can judge something about him by the business he used to follow. He used to keep a low rum shop. But he cannot hinder us from going home if the War Department gives us a discharge, which I think they will if we take proper measures. But perhaps there will be no notice taken of it. I saw by the papers yesterday that another Bill had been introduced into Congress to discharge all volunteer bands and the Bill was sent before the committee on military affairs. The Bill will undoubtedly pass. It said they should be discharged by the first of March and that will be soon enough for me to get home, will it not? I am not one bit afraid but what our Band will be discharged and I do not care how soon for I have got sick of the way that we have to get along.

[Our Band Leader] McDonald is just nobody to look out for his men. Our cook is sick and we all cook for ourselves. If you could only look in where we are today, I know that you could not blame us for being lonesome, homesick, or anything else. But I expect that the weather has something to do about making us feel down-hearted. I tell you that you can feel safe in saying that I shall be at home in the spring. I do not know what the trouble is but I have not had a letter from you for over a week. I expect that you have written but the snow has blocked up the cars and stopped the railroad from moving that is the trouble. But I am looking for one tonight and if I do not get it another somersault will take place with the postmaster.

I know that you have not got that money yet for it was not sent down East until this week. When we signed the roll, there was not any man specified to receive the money so last Monday the paymaster came up to see who we should send it to and it was agreed that it should be sent to Judge Coney of Augusta so I will write to Loring to get it and bring it to you. I think that the allotment business is a poor concern but there is [no] danger but what you will get it soon. I will close now. Goodbye. Write soon. Yours truly, - Henry C. Long

¹ The adjutant from Portland, Maine, was Charles J. Pennell. He resigned from the service on 31 May 1862.

Washington D. C.

Sunday, January 26, 1862

Dear Wife,

I received yours of the 19th last Wednesday night and I of course was happy to hear from you and to hear from the loved one at home and that you were well and taking all the comfort that could be expected under the circumstances which are a little unpleasant to us both. But I must not let my feelings overpower my reason in this epistle as I presume that you have already found that I have in previous ones. It is a part of my nature to be apt to find fault with my condition, but I do not know as I am really to blame for I know that I inherited it with numerous other bad propensities too! I am very sorry that I wrote to you that I was homesick and that we intended to go home so soon because I was not aware that perhaps I should have to write in a short time right different. But there has nothing as yet happened to alter my opinion about going home. But I don’t think that anything that we have done will get us there any quicker as there is some of the band that have altered their opinion and now are not for going at any rate. But the majority of them want to go bad.

I think there is no question but what we shall have to go by the first of March next by an Act of Congress and I think that it will be the best way for us to wait and see. Perhaps they will make some “provision” for us-give us our bounty or something that will satisfy us. And furthermore, if we are not discharged, then I will-if it is your wish-get a discharge and go home if I can. And I am not afraid but what I can get a discharge by calling for it at anytime unless there should be some interference. I know that it is for my benefit to stay as long as possible if my health should admit. I do not know how I should stand it in the summer season but I think better than such weather as I have seen here for the last month. It has been dreadful weather. We have not seen the sun before today since week before last.

My health is good now and and I shall endeavor to keep it so. They say that this season of the year is the worst-that it is all for a “northern man.” There is so much damp weather that they are apt to take very bad colds. I have had but one and have got nicely over it. It was not because that I was careless or exposed myself but seems to be a regular disease. They have all had it. Mc[Donald] was sick about a week but he has got over it now and I will risk but what he will stand the pressure.

You wrote that if I did not get a letter from you this week that I might think the roads were blocked up. I guess it must be so for I have not received it but I am looking for it when the mails get here, which will be in a few minutes. If I am disappointed, I shall of course think that you are all buried in the snow. I wish that I could take a shovel and go down there and dig out some shoes-Buckariens. I hear that the snow is uncommonly deep there this winter and cold enough to make an [ ].

[Letter unsigned; probably partial letter]

Washington D. C.

February 1, 1862

Dear Wife,

Your letter of the 28th I just received not over ten minutes ago and as you see that I lose no time in answering it. Our mails gets here now about noon once a day and I like that much better for some nights (when I do not expect a letter) I go to bed and am waked up by those that have letters and they sit up and read them and talk and make such noise that we that have turned in cannot sleep until they get through. But there is none of us that finds any fault for we are all anxious to hear from Old Maine. I wish that I was there today.

As you say there has nothing of interest transpired since I wrote you last, I have heard nothing about discharging the bands which I have no sign of a doubt but what they will before next spring. I think the next time that the subject is brought before Congress that they will make a final wind up of it. I am sure that we shall be discharged. I have more confidence in our Government than to think that they will keep seventeen thousand men in the field (under double the pay that the soldiers receive) that are of no benefit whatever.

There is more musicians in the army at the present time than the whole of our army numbers previous to the war! Gen. McClellan is in favor of discharging the bands-also the Secretary of War and the press-and I cannot look upon it in any other light that that we shall be sent home soon. And I tell you that we watch the papers as snug as a cat watches a mouse and each day expect to see that these Bills have passed to set us a going towards those that will be glad to see us. I feel that there is one that would be glad to see me and that I should be very glad to see, if it was not for that one. I would as leave stay here as anywhere else but I cannot help feeling that a life with you is by all means preferable to money. That is why I am so anxious to get there. It is not because I am suffering for want of food or clothes or anything else to make me comfortable, and the fact is, I want to see you dreadfully and I do not feel anyways timid about telling you for I had as leave you would know my thoughts and feelings as to know them myself-and I have tried that you should always as far as was in my humble means to communicate. But my courage is good yet and I think will continue until next spring and I should not wonder if I had to stay here longer than that time, that my courage would fail me.

My health is good as ever but I think that it would be better if there was not so much wet weather. It affects the whole regiment. We are having now what they call the rainy season and will last until the middle of the month or the first of March and then they say that it is a perfect garden of Eden.

[Roscoe] Buck had a letter from Wallace Masten today. He wrote about the “Horse trot” and said that they had a real drunken time. That is just what I expected and I am glad that you did not go to the dance for he said that they had a fight in the Hall. Charles Cole of Morency [?] and Asa Records were the principal actors. I recollect Charles Cole for he undertook to use me rough one time but he did not make out and only got an eye in mourning for his trouble.

I received two letters from you last week. I expect that a good many of them get miscarried. There is lots of letters and papers that are brought to our regiment that are sent to others.

[Alexander] Fuller has got home and we here had a letter from him. He wrote that he had been to Augusta to see about the money. They had a check for it on a New York Bank but had not got the money but expected it in a few days. He said the way that he understood it was that each one of the women that the money was allotted to had got to call in person in order to get it. I think that he is mistaken. I believe that your order on mine is just as good as to go in person. I should think it funny if it was not. I wrote to Loring and wrote an order for him to get the money and I think that he will and has before this time. I requested him to write me if he could not get it and as I have received no letter I think that he has got e’re this.

You must not let the news of my standing a chance to come home worry you so that you cannot sleep nights, will you? If I had known that you was a going to feel so bad about my coming home, I would not have written anything about it. But I will stay out here if you say so or I will come home and be a good boy and not plague [you] a bit.

But I guess this will do for this time and I have got to go and cook my supper as our cook is sick and we all have [to] get our own supper. I am a going to have some beef steak as soon as I can fry it. I believe it would taste better if you could be here to help me eat it. I wish that I could have one of them fish chowders that we used to have in season. I believe that I could eat a peck. But must close now for I have no room. So goodbye. Write soon and all the news and how you get along in the shop.

Yours with love-Henry

Washington D. C.

February 6, 1862

Dear Wife,

In writing you this time, I hardly know what to say as I have not one word of news of any kind. I hear nothing about Bands being discharged-only all are talking about it considerable and hoping any day to hear that they are. There is four bands in our brigade and every one of them want to go home if there is any such thing. One [band] expects to go soon as they enlisted so that they could go when they wanted to, or their Colonel [Charles Henry Van Wyck, 56th NY] promised them their discharge when they should call for it. He is a Representative to Congress so he has things as he wants them. Eleven of his band has gone home on furloughs but they were not dated so they can stay as long as they are a mind to. They say that they shall not come back again. It is a New York regiment that they belong to. A man come up to see them yesterday that is somewhat of a politician. He said there was no doubt but what we should be discharged by the first of March so I will wait until then and if we are not discharged, I shall endeavor to get mine if I can and I think I can.

A. D. Harlow was over to see us yesterday. He is-if you recollect-band master in the 2d Maine Regiment. Five of his bands has gone home and he says that he shall go in March. His band all want to go. So you can see that it is not a very desirable place by so many wanting to get out of it. It is not the fare that I care about and can only speak for myself. I suppose that some of them call it hard but I do not. Of course it is not like living at home. I have thought a great many times when I have laid down to sleep nights on an old dirty straw tick that I should like to get into a good bed. I expect when I do get a chance to go to bed at home that I cannot sleep any until I get used to it.

I received a letter from you last Sunday and expected one last night but was disappointed. I expect the cars were detained by snow storms. I am looking for it today.

[Roscoe] Buck had a letter from his wife. She wrote that [Alexander] Fuller was going to carry her and Mrs. Mc[Donald] up to Augusta to get their money the next day. That would be last Monday. I had a letter from [Alexander] Fuller last Sunday. He wrote a very good letter. He seemed to feel better than when he was out here. Says that he prefers snow and cold to mud and rain.

I can hardly think of no more this time and you must excuse this short letter and I will do better next time. My health is very good and I hope that this will find you the same. You may rest assured that you will see me in March. It looks a long time now but it will soon pass away and I will try to enjoy myself the best I can until the time comes and you must do so too. So goodbye. Write soon. I still remain yours &c.

- H. C. Long

Carver Barracks

Washington D. C.

February 12th 1862

Dear Wife,

I received yours of the 5th last Monday noon and should have answered it right away but I have always wrote you Wednesdays and Sundays ever since I came here with the exceptions of two or three times and it has become a sort of habit with me, whether I have anything particular to write or not, which is very seldom that I do. I have got so sick of the “Old Barracks” that anywhere is preferable to them. I had rather go south by all means than to stay here a month longer. If we were only moving, I should enjoy better health. It is impossible to live here without having a cold the whole time and I must say that I never got so sick of anything in my life. And if ever a set of men will be happy, it will be when they get out of these dirty coops. I do not know how it is but I feel that our stay here is short. Something tells me that we shall be discharged by the first of March. I have seen nothing of it in the papers since I wrote you last but perhaps before I write you again, the Bill will have passed. It takes a good while to fix up all of these things. There is a great many things for them to do.

I see that they have not got all of the traitors out of Congress yet but I expect they will if they have time enough to do it in. We are all getting impatient about the Bill and some of the boys say that it will not pass but they have no grounds for saying so and are only discouraged but I am not by any means. I think when a Bill comes up in Congress and there is no objections to it on either side, that it stands a very good sight to pass. I can see it in no other way and it appears that everyone is in favor of dispensing with such unnecessary expense. I see pieces in the papers every day about it. It costs five and a half millions of dollars to pay for the music in one year, besides their subsistence which makes a very large bill in the course of two or three years. When I come to look at these things, I feel perfectly safe in telling you that I shall be at home in the spring. I should not be surprised if the Bill passed this week. It is in the mill and has got to go through all the machinery to make it a law and when it comes out, it will be all right. So we keep up good courage and wait a while longer.

I have wrote nothing all over the other sheet and I don’t doubt but I shall do the same with this for nothing is all I can think or find to write about.

I should kinder like to know what Joe Shaw has been doing that you love him so well. I always knew that he was a regular woman’s man but I did not think that you would set your caps for him. I wrote him the first day of last month and have received no answer-and to tell the truth, I don’t care whether he writes or not. There can no one tell me anything [about] Joe Shaw for I am acquainted with him. But to be earnest, what has he been up to? Has he been a meddling with your affairs in any way? If he has, I will write him another letter that perhaps will not be quite so friendly. I should not mistrust such a thing of him if I did not know that he was always sticking his nose where it was not wanted. But I expect that I am a little hasty for I recollect that you never liked him very well and know of no one that can blame you.

You have not wrote a word about Elijah [Whitman]-whether he was dead or living. I should like to see his old phiz. If he was out here, he could get any quantity of Bible men to talk with. I have a quarrel with them sometimes. There is only one in the house that will agree with me and that is [Roscoe] Buck. We have to stand the whole of them which we can do without any trouble.

It is as muddy here as usual but not quite so much rain. It snows occasionally but not much at a time. The rainy season is about drawing to a close. It is over in March.

I presume that you have got your money by this time. If not, you will get it when Loring goes to Buckfield. I requested him to carry it to you, and he will probably do so. As you are in no hurry for it, I thought that a good way but I suppose that he could not get it without your receipt or order or something. I supposed that my order was just as good but I guess that it is not.

I think of no more this time so please excuse the many blunders I have made and write soon. Also accept this poor letter. Your affectionate husband, - Henry C. Long

Washington [D. C.]

Saturday Eve, February 15, 1862

Dear Wife,

Yours of the 9th I received last Thursday night and as usual was very glad to hear from you and that you were well &c. Your letter reached me in about the same mode of feelings as they all have of late-not very desirous of continuing in the army as a musician. I feel that I have blowed as much for the country as any of them men that congregate in stores and shops and talk patriotism and how much they would do for their beloved country, but let them go and serve three months in a Volunteer Regiment and some of them would say the Devil take it. But I don’t want you to think by this that that is the way I feel about it for I do not. But I cannot say what I should say if I had to serve as a private.

But as things look now, I don’t think that anybody will have to serve more longer. We are enjoying good news of late every day from Burnside and others which I will not attempt to write as you will probably hear all the particulars long before you get this letter and I suppose they will be hailed with great joy throughout the North. It seems to animate the soldiers here and makes us all feel better generally. Every paper brings us the welcome word “Victory” upon all points where our army has moved and we are anxiously waiting to hear from Tennessee as the news came today that they were fighting and it was supposed that our troops would take Floyd, Johnson, Pillow, and fifteen thousand Rebels [at Fort Donelson]. If they do, it will be a severe blow for them that are trying to pull down the Old Stars and Stripes. We have had news that they were taken but they are not reliable so we must wait until they are confirmed which I hope and pray they will be. But I will write no more about this for you will know as much about it as I shall.

I hardly know what to tell you about that money-not that I am anyways timid about letting Ozias have it for I had just as leave he would have it as anybody else, but if I should go home in March, I should get there without any money and it looks to me as of we should need some before next fall to get along with. If I knew certain about my going home, I should know what to tell you. But you may do just as you think best and that will suit me. You will have sixty dollars more coming to you after the first of next month as we are to be paid off again then. I don’t know what to say. If he could wait until we are paid again, I think we shall know by that time whether we are going home or not. Then I could tell you very quick what to do but I will say again, do as you think best.

I have not seen anything particular about the discharging of bands lately. The Bill has been up and is adopted but it has not been voted upon. But I am satisfied that it will pass and perhaps next week we shall see that we are to be discharged. I don’t think I shall feel very sorry but I have nearly got out of patience waiting. I feel as if I should like to know the worst. If we have got to stay, I want to know it. And if we have not, I want to know it. But I will try and keep up good courage as possible and hope on.

It has been snowing all day. It is a regular northeaster. There has about three inches fell, it being the first snow storm to amount to anything this week. We have had three fair days this week and I think that worth mentioning as it is so seldom that we have any.

Some of our fellows say that their folks have to pay postage on their letters that are franked. If that is so, I presume that you have had to. If that is so, tell me and I will see that the rest are paid.

I can think of no more so good night, the best little wife in the world. Write soon and please to excuse my short letters for I would write more of I could but cannot find anything to write about that wold be interesting to you so goodbye.

Yours &c. - Henry

Washington D. C.

February 18, 1862

Dear Wife,

I have come to the conclusion that I could not better occupy my time this evening than writing to you as my letters are always received with pleasure no matter how poor. I feel no embarrassment in writing at any time. I know that you will not care if they are not so correct and can excuse me knowing that my education is very limited but I always do the best I can and that does not amount to but little.

The boys have lit their candle and collected around the Old Bass Drum for the purpose of having a game of cards. They cannot use the tables for several of us are using them (as some old Deacon would say) for a better purpose. We are all feeling in good spirits and I can account for it in no other way than that they think the war will be ended shortly as the best of news are continually arriving and it is all “Victory-Victory” from every quarter where our forces have made an attempt. It causes a bright hope to spring up within each and all of us that we soon can return to the dear ones we have left behind.

I suppose that the cheering news has reached you e’re this of the success of our troops in Tennessee. If it was hailed with as much joy there as it was here, it must have been somewhat exciting for I never saw a set of men feel any better. In the first place, our Colonel brought the news from the City that Fort Donelson was taken. Then all of the Bands came out and played, Hail Columbia, Star Spangled Banner, Yankee Doodle, &c. Then we had a speech from our Colonel and one from the brigadier General. A battery was then brought in which comprised of three twelve-pound rifle cannon and placed in the center of the parade ground. Then it was noisy for a few minutes. It was then 5 o’clock P. M. and as soon as it was dark, the soldiers had a large fire in the center of he ground. Some were cheering, some had fire brands and were marching around, which made a regular torchlight procession. Then each soldier had several cartridges given him and such a noise I never heard until they [were] all used up. You must imagine that there was some noise for there is about four thousand all together and I should judge that thy all done their best. At 8 o’clock a cannon was fired which was a signal for to light up the barracks as they were all ready with candles in the windows. In less time than I can write about it, the windows were illuminated and it was as light as day on our parade ground. They had a regular jubilee and I will not worry you with anymore of this.

I received a letter from you last Monday noon that was yesterday. I do not understand the reason why you have not got that money. [James W.] McDonalds’s & [Roscoe G.] Buck’s wives got theirs two or three weeks ago and some of the Cornish folks have got theirs. Their money did not come from New York but were paid with government bills the same as we get here. I do not understand why it is so but I suppose that it is all right or I should have heard from Loring. I expect by this time that you have got it-also your things from Gardiner [Maine]. I hope that they were got there in good shape. If he gets that mirror there without breaking it, he will do well. I should have told him before he started that if he broke it, I wold not pay him anything for going after them. I should like to live with you this winter or spring rather. It would seem nice to go to keeping house again. I will not decide about your working in the shop now but will after I get home. I should hate dreadfully to see you work so-that is, to do your housework and then do a woman’s work besides in the shop. I know that your will is good enough but I am afraid your constitution isn’t. But I will let that go at present.

I cannot tell when I shall be at home. I have seen nothing about it in the papers lately but I presume that the Bill will pass anyhow. It is in such shape that they have got to do something with it before a great while. I have not given up yet but what I shall be at home in the spring. I shall do as I have said before and that is get my discharge if I can if Congress does not discharge us.

I will tell you what I think about Mack [McDonald] & his beauty. I think they will both blow up and go off in less than fifteen minutes after he gets home. She is up to her father’s now. McDonald is as fast for going home as anyone. I can’t think of nothing more this time. I have done very well for me. So goodbye. Write soon. And one thing in particular, excuse all that is not E Pluribus Unum. Write anything that is doing. So good night, beloved wife.

Yours truly, - Henry C. Long

Washington D. C.

March 25, 1862

Dear Wife,

I have received two letters from you this week. One I got on Monday and the one you wrote Sunday I received last night. It came unexpected for I generally get them Thursdays. I never have had a letter come through so quick before and I cannot account for it unless there is some different arrangement in the mails. Perhaps I shall get another this week. I hope so at any rate. I was feeling rather downhearted yesterday as well as some of the rest of us and they proposed to go to the theater so we went and I don’t believe that you will blame me for it. I have been but once before and as we expected to go away and should not have another opportunity, we concluded to improve it and we did and had a good time. It was good and I am not sorry that I went. I think that I laughed as hard as any of them and it did me good for I have not been in a laughing mode for a long time.

Ever since that Bill was passed in the Senate, I have wanted to go home worse than ever and looking and waiting for it to pass the House makes me feel uneasy. Some of the boys say that it never will but that is what they said before and I did not give it up then and I am sure I shall not this time. I do certainly believe that the Bill will pass [though] perhaps it will be some time first, but will come at last. The Secretary of War reported to the House that the Bands could be dispensed with without injuring the army and that will have a great influence for they all do about as he says. If I did not think that Congress would discharge us, my hopes of getting home this summer would be faint for the officers know that I can play well and they would do all they could to stop me, and they can do that very easy for they have the power in their own hands. It has been intimated to them that I could get my discharge by going and having a medical examination. The Colonel said that he would not sign my discharge and if I was lame, he would see that I had a good place to ride in case we had to march. That is very kind in him and when we do march, I think I shall be lame, wouldn’t you? McDonald went to him one day this week and asked him to give us all a discharge. He said that he could not, nor would not if he could. He said that it would hurt his regiment more than anything else. They think everything of their band but they have to get along without them before long, I know.

Three of our band have got their discharge this morning and have started for home. They were discharged as not being musicians and only get third class pay. They were not much account. One of them did not know a note from a side of leather. But I cannot go in on that lay for they know better. If I have to stay here as long as I enlisted to, I shall get a furlough and go home and stay a month out of each year. But I do not feel concerned about staying here three years for the war cannot last so long as that. If it does, I should be better off here than I should at home for I can get work here and good pay for it, but there I do not know what I should do. I know what you will say but will say no more about it this time as I have good faith that everything will come out right side up. My courage has not failed me yet and I am still looking for a happy future with you when this war will be at an end. I can look upon it in no other way. If we was falling as fast as our enemies, I could not hope. But as things look now, I cannot see why anyone should feel discouraged. We have everything in the world to assure us of a speedy end to the rebellion.

I cannot tell when we shall leave this place. It is uncertain. Perhaps we shall go tomorrow. Perhaps next week. That is the condition we are in now. We are ready to start at two hours notice. Tell Mrs. McDonald that her James has been sick and was carried down to a private house and fixed up. He is well now. I don’t like that woman no how. I don’t believe that she will write for James (her James) to come home as long as he is a getting a hundred and six dollars a month if he should stay here fifty years. I do not doubt but what she loves him but I believe that she loves money the best. Lute Brown could chew her up and maker her over into a better woman than she is now. I quip that you will say that I love to have someone to give a “sitting up.” Well it does come handy when I have nothing else to write about. To be honest, I don’t care whether she lives in Perue or Peinhook if I don’t live there.

I will promise you that I will look out for myself and health the best I can so you must not think that I am going to be sick or fare hard. My health is good. I shall endeavor to retain it. You must be careful too and not get cold for you know that you have been made very sick by exposure. I am dreadful glad that your health has been so good this winter and I am not afraid but what you will try and keep it so. I shall not worry if you do not have any work right way. I think you have done enough already-more than I ever wanted you to. And I shall not care if you do not have any more coats to make this spring. We can get along if you do not. I must close now for I have got all the pieces of paper written over there is in the camp. I thought when I commenced that I could write all I could think of upon one sheet but I have kept adding on pieces so excuse my mistakes and accept from, - Henry

Young’s Mill, Warwick county, Va

Wednesday eve

April 16th 1862

Dear Wife,

As we march again tomorrow, I thought perhaps that I might not have another opportunity to write for some days so I occupy a part of this evening in writing you a brief letter. I have nothing very positive to write-only that they have commenced fighting near Yorktown. McClellan attacked the Rebels this morning at sunrise and they have been fighting all day. The report is tonight that we have taken two forts but I cannot tell how true it is. We are about eight or ten miles from where they are fighting and the wind being the wrong way, we cannot hear the firing only once in awhile. Casey’s whole division has got along to Warwick Courthouse which is only three miles from us. It is General [Erastus] Keyes’ Headquarters and our division is in his “Corps.” His command is not in the fight but we are all ready and probably tomorrow they will have a chance to try their courage.

We go in the morning but I think that Casey’s Division will be held as reserves and perhaps not see any fighting. I do not know how many are engaged today but suppose not half of them. There is a great army here-probably a hundred and fifty thousand-but they cannot all be engaged at once. I think we are on the left of the army. I hope that tomorrow night I shall hear some good news-that Yorktown is ours with the whole Rebel force prisoners. It is the general opinion that this is their last kick. I hope so anyhow.

We are having some beautiful weather here now. It is warm as summer and as I sit here writing in this “secesh cabin,” I can hear the frogs singing louder than common. I guess they are having a jubilee over the news for they cannot be secesh, I know. There is a little creek [Deep Creek] runs within a stone’s throw of us and it seems as if it was full of the little fellows. It makes me think of home and awakens a feeling of joy and of solitude. As my thoughts wander back to the past, I live over again many a happy hour. But when I realize where I am, I cannot help feeling lonely sometimes. But I do not give up to loneliness or anything of the kind-no more than any other one naturally would in my circumstances. My health was never any better in my life and I feel better contented than I did while I was in Washington, by all means, and you must not worry one bit about me. I shall endeavor to look out for No. 1, let what will come.

I received your letter of the 9th directed to Newport News last Monday. It seems that they are bound to come any way you might put it on the envelope-1st Brigade, Casey’s Division. I cannot help believing that if our army is successful in this battle (that is to come) that there will be but little more fighting. We shall soon know. I feel now as if I wanted to see Richmond before I go home this time. I hear no news about Bands being discharged yet but shall as soon as we hear from [Sen.] Morrill. I hope I shall have some news to write next time. It is all excitement in our quarters. Some are fussing about their things and are making such a noise that I cannot write any more. So goodbye. - Henry

I will write you again soon and you must do the same. Do not worry about me for I will promise you that I will take care of myself the best I can. I will write a longer letter next time if possible. So you must excuse this for I have written in a hurry.

Five Miles beyond New Kent Court House

Sunday, May 18th 1862

Dear Wife,

We arrived in this place last night after a march of three or four hours. Left our quarters at the Court House about three o’clock and by so doing we had the cool part of the day to march in. I got along finely and was not much tired when I arrived here. There has nothing of interest transpired to my knowledge since I wrote you last. The prospect of our being discharged at present has gone by. Our [discharge] papers went all right until they got to Old [Silas] Casey. They had been gone long enough we thought to come back so the Lieut. Colonel [Plaisted] (or now our Colonel he is now) went after them. He found them at Casey’s and asked him to sign them but he would not. He said that he would not discharge a single man until he got to Richmond unless he could pass a strict examination by the surgeon. So he has sent our papers pack with these words, “Not approved at present.” He will probably give us a discharge after we get to Richmond, He about the same as said so. The Colonel told us that then he would renew our application and there was no doubt but we should get it. His opinion is that we shall be in Richmond within thirty days, Every time we march, we go nearer and now we can go there in two days easy so I am doubly anxious to get there now to what I have been, But we shall not move many miles in that direction for some days to come as now we should be apt to run against a snag. I expect there has got to be a terrible battle if any at all before we get to Richmond. Some of our troops must be within twelve or fifteen miles of there now and I presume they are. I do not know anything about it or anything else-only what I see my self and that is nothing now. Our division is now by itself and that is all of the army that I know anything about its movements.

I have not received a letter from you since last Sunday. I suppose that you have written but perhaps they have been miscarried or delayed somewhere on the road. I am looking for one tonight as they have gone to headquarters after the mail but there is no regular time for it to come or go and perhaps I shall be disappointed but I hope not.

It is very pleasant today and warm as summer. Everything looks pretty in nature. The trees are all leafed out an as we Band fellows are encamped in the woods, it makes it more pleasant. We are just in the edge of the woods with our hen coops all pitched and the regiment is about twenty rods from us in an open field. It is getting towards five o’clock and the boys have built their fire to cook our supper. Our living is not anything very nice just now-I suppose on account of so many to feed and such hard work to get provision along. We have hard bread and pork enough and coffee, but that is not very good in this warm weather for the soldiers. It is all that I have had to eat, or any of us, but three times since we left Warwick, But it is of no use to find fault for it will accomplish nothing. But I can stand it as long as I have my health and I am thankful it is so good now. I like this first rate-if we could [only] be furnished with better rations, not that I am dainty, but on account of my health. A large number of our men are sick and they say that it is the living that causes it. I eat as little of the pork as possible for the most of it is poor. I don’t like to send such news home but nevertheless it is true. It is said-and I am sure that it is a fact-that the 11th Maine Regiment cannot muster over three hundred effective men. The rest have died and been discharged and in different hospitals and will never join the regiment again. I will tell you truly that I think that the regiment is getting played out but that does not hurt my courage one bit. The sooner it is played out, the sooner I shall get home. But I think that you can look for me home soon after you hear that Richmond is taken. I believe that I will come then if I have to frog it. You must write often as you can conveniently and I shall write just as often as possible. Have you received my last payment yet? The Cornish men have heard from theirs and their folks have received their money. I must now close and bid you goodbye again, dearest Deborah. My joy would be boundless were I to see you today. But it must wait. Goodbye.

- Henry

Sources

1. ↑ Source: #S13 Page: Maine, Buckfield, Oxford Co., Roll M653_444
2. ↑ Source: #S13 Page: Maine, Buckfield, Oxford Co., Roll M653_444
3. ↑ Source: #S14 Page: p. 108
4. ↑ Source: #S16
5. ↑ Source: #S13 Page: Maine, Buckfield, Oxford Co., Roll M653_444
6. ↑ Source: #S12 Page: p. 49
7. ↑ Source: #S14 Page: p. 108
8. ↑ Source: #S13 Page: Maine, Buckfield, Oxford Co., Roll M653_444
9. ↑ Source: #S1536
10. ↑ Source: #S1760 Page: Feb. 24, 2018.

• Source: S12 Title: "1840 Census" Repository: #R2 NOTE: "1840 Census", Source Medium: Census

• Source: S13 Title: "1860 Census" Repository: #R2 NOTE: "1860 Census", Source Medium: Census

• Source: S14 Title: "1850 Census" Repository: #R2 NOTE: "1850 Census", Source Medium: Census

• Source: S16 Title: www.familysearch.org NOTE: www.familysearch.org, Source Medium: Book

• Source: S1536 Title: "Maine Marriages, 1771-1907" Repository: #R10

• Source: S1760 Title: ebay Repository: #R62

• Repository: R2 Name: www.ancestry.com

• Repository: R10 Name: www.familysearch.org

• Repository: R62 Name: ebay.com