Civil War Letters: From Home, Camp and Battlefield

By Dover Publications

This fascinating anthology commemorates the 150th anniversary of the Civil War with heartfelt letters by Union and Confederate sympathizers and soldiers of all ranks. Authentic illustrations accompany insightful missives by Lincoln, several generals (including Grant, Lee, Butler, Jackson, and Sherman), Walt Whitman, Jefferson Davis, and many of their contemporaries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Release date: Jan 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9780486280776

Book preview

2011

1861

FORT SUMTER: your communication, demanding the evacuation of this Fort

Major Robert Anderson, U.S.A.

Fort Sumter, South Carolina

April 11, 1861

To General P. G. T. Beauregard, C.S.A.

Sir:—

I have the honor to acknowledge receipt of your communication, demanding the evacuation of this Fort, and to say in reply thereto that it is a demand with which I regret that my sense of honor and my obligations to my Government prevent my compliance.

Source: The Union Reader, etc. [UR]

The next afternoon at 3:30, Beauregard’s aides-de-camp delivered this reply: By virtue of Brigadier General Beauregard’s command, we have the honor to notify you that he will open the line of his batteries on Fort Sumter in one hour from this time. And so came the shots that started the war.

RESIGNING FROM THE UNITED STATES ARMY: Save in defense of my native State, I never desire again to draw my sword

Colonel Robert E. Lee, U.S.A.

First Cavalry

Arlington, Virginia

April 20, 1861

To General Winfield Scott, U.S.A.

General:

Since my interview with you on the 18th inst. I have felt that I ought no longer to retain my commission in the Army. I therefore tender my resignation, which I request you will recommend for acceptance. It would have been presented at once but for the struggle it has cost me to separate myself from a service to which I have devoted all the best years of my life and all the ability I possessed.

During the whole of that time—more than a quarter of a century—I have experienced nothing but kindness from my superiors, and the most cordial friendship from my comrades. To no one, General, have I been as much indebted as to yourself for uniform kindness and consideration, and it has always been my ardent desire to meet your approbation. I shall carry to the grave the most grateful recollections of your kind consideration, and your name and fame will always be dear to me.

Save in defense of my native State, I never desire again to draw my sword. Be pleased to accept my most earnest wishes for the continuance of your happiness and prosperity, and believe me,

Most truly yours,

R. E. LEE

After Virginia’s secession from the Union on April 17, Lee (1807–1870) turned down the offer from General Scott and President Lincoln to become the commander of the United States Army. He became the Confederacy’s most important general and by the war’s end was the army’s commander in chief.

Source: [REL]

BATTLE OF BIG BETHEL: It was a strange sensation standing there, awaiting the approach of the foe for the first time

Private Alfred Davenport, U.S.A.

Fifth Regiment, New York State Duryee Zouaves

Camp Butler, Fortress Monroe, Virginia

June 11, 1861

To His Mother

I suppose that ere this you have heard of our engagement with the enemy. Sunday evening we were out on parade as usual. After we were dismissed we were called together again, and each man given twenty rounds of ammunition, in addition to what we already had. All was bustle and activity: we knew we were going somewhere, but as to the direction we were completely in the dark. Taps were sounded as usual, and we were ordered to our tents. A few minutes after a man might be seen going to each tent, and whispering the words, At half-past ten every man will be called; he will immediately, and without noise or light, arise, equip himself, and fall in line in front of the tents. He will be supplied with one day’s rations; will also tie his turban around his left arm twice, as a distinguishing mark.

About an hour before the time I was outside of my tent, when I saw a body of men going by: they made so little noise that it seemed to me mysterious where they had come from. I learnt that they were two of our companies, who were to go ahead as skirmishers under the command of Captains Kilpatrick (now major-general of cavalry) and Bartlett. I now understood that we were to surprise a rebel camp about fifteen miles from here. It seems that a negro who had ran away from the rebels, being employed by them to help build their batteries, had given information of it, which led General Butler to determine to attack it. There were several secessionists who came down to Hampton for the purpose of shooting the negro. We were to act in conjunction with a regiment at Newport News, and others were to follow us.

We were finally on the march. Nobody would have thought that a large body of men were on the move, by the stillness that prevailed. After we had gone some five or six miles, we were ordered to halt. I looked through the woods and saw a bright light; it could not be mistaken, it was a rebel signal: it was in a house, and pointed directly in the line of their company. Further on we came in sight of another. Soon after we came to a slight halt, heard a volley of musketry, and were ordered on at a double-quick. Our company being on the right was ahead of the line, and I am near the head, so that I had a chance to see everything. We halted, and found that we had come upon the extreme outpost. There was a campfire burning, and we had taken an officer prisoner. He was well mounted, with a fine revolver and sword, the edge of which was sharpened up to the handle. He was a fine looking man, over six feet high. We then heard rapid firing in the rear. We supposed that the rebels had come in contact with the Newport News regiment under Colonel Bendix. We soon saw that a most lamentable mistake had occurred. Colonel Bendix in the uncertain light of morning had taken Colonel Townsend’s 3rd N.Y. regiment, who were following after us, for an enemy, and engaged them! The result was that eleven were wounded, some probably mortally!

Our commander now determined to go back and attack the camp. We started, but not before we had burned down a very handsome, well-furnished house, from which one of our men had been shot dead. Further on we burned down a low wooden hut, known as the Little Bethel, a noted place of meeting for spies and secret orders.

We finally came upon the enemy, tired and exhausted. We learned from negroes that they were very strong and had more men than we had. We were so close to their batteries that we could hear them calling Turn out! Turn out! and the drums beating the long roll.

Captain Kilpatrick threw out his skirmishers. We ascertained that there was a strong battery commanding the road, besides others to the left and right. It was a strange sensation standing there, awaiting the approach of the foe for the first time, expecting every moment to receive a volley from the woods into our closed ranks; but every man was firm: to be sure we looked a shade paler, but there was but one look, to do or die.

Our captain said the ball had commenced. Instantaneously another report was heard, and a shell came whizzing through the air: now they came thick and fast.

We were ordered to charge through the wood. On we rushed through the brush, which was raked by grape and canister, bombs and rifled cannon. All the companies got mixed up in squads, and every man was his own officer. It now became too hot; we were obliged to get behind trees and stumps. Some of the boys crept close to a fence nearest the enemy, on the outskirts of the woods, and took advantage of every opportunity to pick off a man. Captain Kilpatrick was shot twice in the legs: he did not seem to mind it, but said, It won’t do to stay here and be shot down without doing any thing. He ordered the men to keep covered as well as they could and to form, but the brush was so thick that it was impossible to find captains, or any officers, or companies. Finally some few of us rushed out of the woods and across the road, headed by Lieutenant Jacob Duryea, a son of the colonel, and Captain Kilpatrick, notwithstanding his wounds, who is the most dashing officer in the regiment, and charged across a ploughed field with no cover after leaving the wood. In this charge there were not more than forty, and all had red breeches. We laid down often to escape shot. About the same time Colonel Townsend charged further to the left. The colonel was mounted, and sat on his white horse at the head of his men without flinching. We finally got to the cover of two old sheds, and were about four hundred feet from their batteries. We kept up fire for a short time, but it was folly to stay there any longer, as we were not supported. There was no concert of action or anybody to command, and most of the troops were lying behind stone walls, at a good distance to the rear. There were only three officers to be seen on that part of the field. I guess they did not like the fun. Outside of their fortifications we fear the rebels in no way, shape, or manner. General Price thought that the place could not be taken by storm without too much sacrifice of men.

The hardest part was held by the regulars’ battery; they deserve the greatest credit and glory for holding their position on the road in such a raking fire. Lieutenant Greble was killed. The guns would have been spiked and left in the road, but our Colonel Warren, who appeared to be the only officer who knew what he was about, saved the guns, and, if he had had the command, would have taken the batteries. Captain Kilpatrick’s company are also deserving of great credit for skirmishing duty.

Major Winthrop, aid to General Butler, and a very superior man, was picked off early by a sharp-shooter. He was showing himself carelessly while reconnoitring their position, and hence his death. Hoping that Providence will prosper our cause and give us the victory, I now close.

YOUR AFFECTIONATE SON

After the war, Davenport wrote Camp and Field Life of the Fifth New York Volunteer Infantry (1879).

Source: [SL]

BATTLE OF FALLING WATERS: My officers and men behaved beautifully, and were anxious for a battle, this being only a skirmish

Colonel Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson, C.S.A.

First Brigade, Army of the Shenandoah

July 4, 1861

To His Wife, Mary Anna Jackson

My precious darling, day before yesterday I learned that the enemy had crossed the Potomac and were advancing upon me. I immediately ordered my command under arms, and gave such instructions as I desired to have carried out until I should be heard from again, and with Captain Pendleton’s Battery and one regiment of Virginia volunteers advanced to meet the Federal troops. After proceeding to the locality which had been indicated as occupied by them, and ascertaining the position of their advance, I made the necessary movement for bringing a small part of my force into action. Soon the firing commenced, and the advance of the enemy was driven back. They again advanced, and were repulsed. My men got possession of a house and barn, which gave them a covered position and an effective fire; but finding that the enemy were endeavoring to get in my rear and that my men were being endangered, I gave the order to their colonel that, if pressed, he must fall back. He obeyed, and fell back. The artillery of the foe opened upon me, and I directed Captain Pendleton to take a favorable position in rear and return their fire with one gun. His first ball cleared the road, which was occupied by the enemy.

I still continued to fall back, checking the enemy when it became necessary, so as to give time for my baggage to get into column at camp before I should arrive there, as one of my objects in advancing was to keep the enemy from reaching my camp before my wagons could get out of the way. Besides my cavalry, I had only one regiment engaged, and one cannon, though I had ordered up two other regiments, so as to use them if necessary. My cannon fired only eight times, while the enemy fired about thirty-five times; but the first fire of Captain Pendleton’s Battery was probably worth more than all of theirs. I desired, as far as practicable, to save my ammunition. My orders from General Johnston required me to retreat in the event of the advance in force of the enemy, so as soon as I ascertained that he was in force I obeyed my instructions. I had twelve wounded and thirteen killed and missing. My cavalry took forty-nine prisoners. A number of the enemy were killed, but I do not know how many. As I obeyed my orders, and fell back, after ascertaining that the Federals were in force, the killed of the enemy did not fall into our hands. My officers and men behaved beautifully, and were anxious for a battle, this being only a skirmish. I wrote out my official report last night, and think General Johnston forwarded it to Richmond.

This morning one of his staff-officers told me that the general had recommended me for a brigadier-general. I am very thankful that an ever-kind Providence made me an instrument in carrying out General Johnston’s orders so successfully. . . . The enemy are celebrating the 4th of July in Martinsburg, but we are not observing the day.

Jackson (1824–1863) was among the most charismatic and successful of the war’s generals. (He earned his nickname Stonewall at the First Battle of Manassas. See the letter of July 22, 1861, below.) His widow noted of this letter: It is said that, before firing this first ball upon the enemy, the reverend officer lifted his eyes to heaven and uttered the prayer, ‘Lord, have mercy upon their souls!’

Source: [MSJ]

FIRST BATTLE OF MANASSAS (BULL RUN): Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone, and wait for me, for we shall meet again

Major Sullivan Ballou, U.S.A.

Second Regiment, Rhode Island Volunteers

Washington, D.C.

July 14, 1861

My Very Dear Wife:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days, perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write a few lines, that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.

Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine, O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battle-field for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American civilization now leans upon the triumph of the government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution, and I am willing, perfectly willing to lay down all my joys in this life to help maintain this government, and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know, that, with my own joys, I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows,—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it, as their only sustenance, to my dear little children, is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country.

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death,—and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country and thee.

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved, and I could not find one. A pure love of my country, and of the principles I have often advocated before the people, and the name of honor, that I love more than I fear death, have called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables, that nothing but Omnipotence can break; and yet, my love of country comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly on with all those chains, to the battlefield. The memories of all the blissful moments I have spent with you, come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you, that I have enjoyed them so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up, and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our boys grow up to honorable manhood around us.

I know I have but few claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me, perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, nor that, when my last breath escapes me on the battle-field, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears, every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth, and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you—in the garish day, and the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and, if the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air cools your throbbing temples, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone, and wait for me, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care, and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers, I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.

SULLIVAN

Ballou was killed at Manassas on July 21.

Source: Brown University in the Civil War: A Memorial. Edited by Henry S. Burrage. Providence: Providence Press Company, 1868.

GOD’S WILL: "I am in the path of duty, and that