Showing posts with label Care Packages. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Care Packages. Show all posts

Monday, November 16, 2020

Diary of Private Louis Leon: September 1, 1862

Wortheim and myself went to Halfway Station, to get a box that was sent to us from home, but it did not come.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 10-11

Sunday, December 16, 2018

Diary of Captain Luman Harris Tenney: February 22, 1865

Spent the day in camp. Read Scott's “Heart of Midlothian.” Much interested. Smith and I studied our lesson together. Capt. Barnitz in class. Got the bundle from home. Am pleased with the new clothes. Good friends.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 144

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Captain William Thompson Lusk to his sister, Lillie, December 31, 1862

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.
Dec. 31st, 1862.
My dear Sister Lillie:

I have just received your letter, and am much troubled to hear that mother has been ill. As you were intending to write me on New Year's eve, I have concluded to write you in turn, knowing it to be all one, whether I write you or mother. I am specially disposed to write to-night as I feel very good-natured. I am not troubled for the moment, either with the goadings of disappointed ambition, the peculiarities of Scotchmen, the inclemency of the weather, or even with “the unfortunate Abraham Lincoln.” In a word, I am determined to be good-humored in bidding farewell to the old year, notwithstanding it is responsible (either it, or the aforesaid Abraham) for so many disasters. If all the hopes so fondly entertained at the beginning of the year have not been realized, we know at least that Providence doeth all things well, if not exactly as man would have it.

Whom W. T. Lusk married May 4, 1864
The Highlanders mean to celebrate the New Year, as the accompanying card will show. Turkeys, hams, tongues, bread and butter and a bowl of punch will be furnished to visitors, and we hope they may be many. But pleasantest of all, Hall is coming to visit me, bringing with him a Dr. Hubbard of his regiment — an Uncle of pretty little Mary Chittenden. If we don't have a good time, then I'll hang up my sword on a willow tree, but you will have to wait until the second inst. for particulars. I had a good time Christmas too, and only regret you should have spent it so quietly. You see I raised a pair of ducks and rode up with them tied to my saddle to Stafford C. H. (ten miles), found Hall, eat the ducks (with Hall's assistance), gossiped, and made very merry, though I had so recently written home representing myself so very miserable. Yesterday I made Major Crosby of the 21st C. V. a visit, and found that I used to go to school with him to old Peltis up-town. We had a right good time of it. His heart so warmed toward me finally, that he brought out a loaf of cake made by his wife's fair fingers—good cake it was too. Speaking of cake reminds me that the Chaplain, my tent companion, has just received a cake from his sweetheart. Oh these sweethearts! Chaplain receives every mail pretty pink notes which he likes to be joked about. He likes the cake too.

Hall thinks I have grown dreadfully unrefined. I smoke a pipe and eat onions. Horrible, isn't it? Would you really like your brother at home, who can do such dreadful things? I can't come. I've tried, but Rhadamanthus, that is Old Bull Sumner, is adamant, and bids me wait until I catch swamp fever or lose a leg, when I will be able to return with flying colors. I tried in fact to take the Bull by the horns, and that's what I got for my pains. Dear me, I'm growing older every day, so you can imagine how old I shall be when I get home.

Well, sister Lillie, I would try and be sentimental in view of New Year's Eve, but that could hardly be looked for in a man that eats onions. But may many blessings rest on both my sisters, my mother and the little ones that are dear to us all. True love between you and Tom, between Hunt and Mary, deepening not weakening at each successive return of the New Year.

Had I my six months' pay, and twenty days to spend at home, how I would make things fly around.

Again love to mother, Uncle Phelps, Aunt Maria, Nellie, Tom, friends individually, collectively, and in bulk.

Affec'y, your brother,

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 261-3

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, May 7, 1863

Camp White, May 7, 1863.

Dearest:— The boxes came safely. The flag will not be cut. The coat fits well. Straps exactly according to regulations or none. The eagles are pretty and simple and I shall keep them until straps can be got of the size and description prescribed, viz., “Light or sky-blue cloth, one and three-eighths inches wide by four inches long; bordered with an embroidery of gold one-fourth of an inch wide; a silver embroidered spread eagle on the center of the strap.” I am content with the eagles as they are but if straps are got, let them be “according to red-tape.” The pants fit Avery to a charm and he keeps them. What is the price? I'll not try again until I can be measured. I do not need pants just now.

We have a little smallpox in Charleston. Lieutenant Smith has it, or measles. Also raids of the enemy threatened. I wouldn't come up just now; before the end of the month it may be all quiet again. Bottsford's sister and other ladies are going away today.

We are building a fort on the hill above our camp — a good position. We are in suspense about Hooker. He moves rapidly and boldly. If he escapes defeat for the next ten days he is the coming man. — Pictures O. K., etc., etc. — Love to all.

R. B. Hayes.
Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 408-9

Friday, March 16, 2018

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, December 7, 1862

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.
December 7th, 1862.
My dear Mother:

We are still lying quietly in camp — no signs of a move yet, but general suffering for want of clothes, shoes in especial. The miserable article furnished by the Government to protect the feet of our soldiers seldom lasts more than three or four weeks, so it is easy to understand the constant cry of “no shoes” which is so often pleaded for the dilatoriness of the Army. I am, happily, well provided now, and can assure those of my friends that contributed to the box Capt. brought me, that the box contained a world of comfort for which I heartily thank them. I think I have acknowledged the safe receipt of the box and its contents already, but a letter from Lilly says not. I will write Uncle Phelps that it came all right. I have had a rare treat to-day. Indeed I feel as though I had devoured a Thanksgiving Turkey. At least I have the satisfied feeling of one that has dined well. I did not dine on Peacock's brains either, but — I write it gratefully — I dined on a dish of potatoes. They were cut thin, fried crisp, and tasted royally. You will understand my innocent enthusiasm, when I say that for nearly six weeks previous, I had not tasted a vegetable of any kind. There was nothing but fresh beef and hard crackers to be had all that time, varied sometimes by beef without any crackers, and then again by crackers without any beef. And here were fried potatoes! No stingy heap, but a splendid pile! There was more than a “right smart” of potatoes as the people would say about here. Excuse me, if warming with my theme I grow diffuse. The Chaplain and I mess together. The Chaplain said grace, and then we both commenced the attack. There were no words spoken. We both silently applied ourselves to the pleasant task of destruction. By-and-by there was only one piece left. We divided it. Then sighing, we turned to the fire, and lighted our pipes, smoking thoughtfully. At length I broke the silence. “Chaplain,” said I. “What?” says Chaplain. “Chaplain, they needed SALT!” I said energetically. Chap puffed out a stream of smoke approvingly, and then we both relapsed again into silence.

I see a good deal of Capt. Stevens now, who says were his father only living I would have little difficulty in getting pushed ahead. He, poor fellow, feels himself very much neglected after the very splendid service he has rendered. It is exceedingly consoling, in reading the late lists of promotions made by the War Department, to see how very large a proportion has fallen to the share of young officers whose time has been spent at Fortress Monroe, Baltimore, or anywhere where there has been no fighting done. Perhaps our time may come one of these days, but I trust I may have better luck in the medical profession than at soldiering. However I suppose when I get old, it will be a proud memory to have fought honorably at Antietam and South Mountain, in any capacity. I feel the matter more now, for I have been in the service so long, and so long in the same place, that I am fairly ashamed to visit old friends, all of whom hold comparatively high rank. I do not see why before the first of January though, I should not be the Lt.-Col. of the 79th Regiment. In trying to be Major, I attempted to be frank and honorable, and lost. Now I shall try to act honorably, but mean to try and win.

I feel sad enough about Hannah. You know what inseparable playmates we were when children. God help her safely, whatsoever his will may be.

Love and kisses for all but gentlemen friends.


SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 240-2

Monday, June 5, 2017

3rd Sergeant Charles Wright Wills: January 5, 1862

Bird's Point, January 5, 1862.

We received the box of provisions to-day in very good order considering the length of time they have been knocked about on the route. It came by freight by some mistake or other. The doughnuts were the only articles spoiled. They had moulded. I sent the box over from Cairo but was not here when it was opened, so that aside from one cake labeled from Aunt Nancy, I don't know where a thing comes from. I did recognize your home snaps, too, and thought there was something very familiar in the taste of a mince pie that I ate, but I am too badly used up to-night to be sure of anything, and tell you as I want to how much we are obliged to our good mothers for their thoughtful care for us. I believe every boy in our mess has received socks and mittens from home. One received them by mail from his mother in New York City. At 7 this morning I went over to Cairo with 50 men after forage for our teams. We stood around in the cold, mud and rain for five hours before we got to work, and then the men had all run off but 15 or 18 and we had to roll bales of hay over a way almost impracticable — and all told, it was a mean job and used me up very near totally.

Ame Babcock, Ike McBean, English and Leary have been to see us nearly every day for a week. Colonel Kellogg took supper with us last night. The gunboats were hammering away all day yesterday down the river, and after dinner the general sent our company with four others from our regiment and nearly all of the Ith (sic), with one day's rations, down the river. We waded about six miles through the mud down the creek and then came back without knowing what we went for. There are none of us that are sick, but we don't feel as well as we did in tents. I wish we hadn't built these cabins.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 51-2

Sunday, June 4, 2017

3rd Sergeant Charles Wright Wills: January 2, 1862

January 2, 1862.

We've waited patiently until after New Year for the box of provisions, and nary box yet. Have given it up for a goner. We're just as much obliged to you as though we had received it. We haven't yet eaten all the tomatoes, etc., that came with the quilts. Partly because we are too lazy to cook them, but mostly because we don't hanker arter them. Beans, bacon and potatoes are our special hobbies or favorites rather, and we are never dissatisfied on our inner man's account when we have them in abundance and of good quality. Company H of the 17th, Captain Boyd, was down here on the 30th. All the boys save Chancy Black and Billy Stockdale were along. We had a grand time, Nelson's, Boyd's and our boys being together for the first time in the war. Yesterday, New Year, the camp enjoyed a general frolic. A hundred or two cavalry boys dressed themselves to represent Thompson's men and went galloping around camp scattering the footmen and making noise enough to be heard in Columbus. The officers of the 11th Infantry were out making New Year calls in an army wagon with 30 horses to it, preceded by a splendid band. The “boys” got a burlesque on the “ossifers.” They hitched 20 mules to a wagon and filled it with a tin pan and stovepipe band, and then followed it in 60-mule wagon around the camp and serenaded all the headquarters.

General Paine said to-day that our regiment and the 11th would move in a week, but I don't believe it.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 50-1

Saturday, June 3, 2017

3rd Sergeant Charles Wright Wills: December 29, 1861

Bird's Point, December 29, 1861.

Your letter giving us notice of your sending a box came to hand yesterday with express charges inclosed. I shall go over to Cairo to-morrow to get them if they are there. I haven't been to Cairo for a month. All of the 7th cavalry are on this side now and there are about a dozen of them here all the time. Colonel Kellogg will be here next week. One company in that regiment did the first scouting for the 7th this morning. They rode out southwest about 15 miles and brought in 22 prisoners. ’Tis said there are two or three officers among them, but I rather think they are only a lot of swamp farmers. The boys got only three or four guns it is said, and that is not more than the complement of one woodsman in this country. The boys think they have almost taken Columbus. It was not our Canton company. We are at last established in our quarters and thoroughly “fixed up” with all the modern improvements in the housekeeping line, coupled with the luxuries of the ancients and the gorgeous splendor and voluptuousness of the middle ages. We have a chimney whose base is rock, the age of which man cannot tell, whose towering top is constructed of costly pecan wood boughs embalmed in soft Missouri mud cement. We have a roof and floor, beds and door, of material carved or sawed from the lofty pines of Superior's rock-bound shores. Our door latch is artfully contrived from the classic cypress, and curiously works by aid of a string pendant on the outside, and when our string is drawn inside who can enter? We have tables and chairs and shelves without number and a mantle piece, and, crowning glories, we have good big straw sacks, a bootjack and a dutch oven. Government has also furnished a stove for each mess of 15 in our regiment, so we have nothing more to ask for; not a thing. This is just no soldiering at all. Its hard, but its true that we can't find a thing to pick trouble out of. We are to-day more comfortable than 45 out of 50 people in old Canton. Our building 1s warmer than our house at home, our food is brought to us every third day in such abundance that we can trade off enough surplus to keep us in potatoes, and often other comforts and luxuries. Within 500 yards of us there is wood enough for 10,000 for 20 years, and — I can't half do it justice, so I'll quit. I borrowed a horse of the cavalry, Christmas, slipped past our picket through to the brush and had a long ride all over the country around Charleston. No adventures though. General Paine took command here to-day. He is an old grannie. We are glad he is here though, for we will get our colonel back by it. You can't imagine what a change the last month of cool weather has produced in our troops. From a sick list six weeks ago of nearly 300 in our regiment, with 65 in the hospital, we have come down or up rather, to eight in hospital, and not over 25 or 30 on the “sick in quarters” list. It is astonishing! And here these “damphool” “Forward to Richmond” papers are talking about the fearful decimation that winter will make in our ranks. They “don't know nothing” about soldiering.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 49-50

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: April 9, 1864

See here Mr. Confederacy, this is going a little too far. You have no business to kill us off at this rate. About thirty or forty die daily. They have rigged up an excuse for a hospital on the outside, where the sick are taken. Admit none though who can walk or help themselves in any way some of our men are detailed to help as nurses, but in a majority of cases those who go out on parole of honor are cut-throats and robbers, who abuse a sick prisoner. Still, there are exceptions to this rule. We hear stories of Capt. Wirtz's cruelty in punishing the men, but I hardly credit all the stories. More prisoners to-day. Some captured near Petersburg. Dont know anything about exchange. Scurvy and dropsy taking hold of the men. Many are blind as soon as it becomes night, and it is called moon blind. Caused, I suppose, by sleeping with the moon shining in the face. Talked with Michael Hoare, an old school fellow of mine. Mike was captured while we were in Pemerton Building, and was one of Dahlgreen's men Was taken right in the suburbs of Richmond. Has told me all the news of their failure on account of Kilpatrick failing to make a junction at some point. Mike is a great tall, slim fellow, and a good one. Said he heard my name called out in Richmond as having a box of eatables from the North. He also saw a man named Shaw claim the box with a written order from me, Shaw was one of our mess on Belle Isle. He was sent to Richmond while sick, from the island, knew of my expecting the box, and forged an order to get it. Well, that was rough, still I probably wouldn't have got it any way. Better him than some rebel. Mike gave me a lot of black pepper which we put into our soup, which is a luxury. He has no end of talk at his tongue's end, and it is good to hear. Recounts how once when I was about eight or ten years old and he some older, I threw a base ball club and hit him on the shins. Then ran and he couldn't catch me. It was when we were both going to school to A. A. Henderson, in Jackson, Mich. Think I remember the incident, and am strongly under the impression that he, caught me It is thus that old friends meet after many years. John McGuire is also here, another Jackson man. He has a family at home and is worried. Says he used to frequently see my brother George at Hilton Head, before being captured.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 48-9

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 7, 1863

No news of importance. The rebels say a flag of truce boat has arrived at City Point and Commissioner Olds telegraphed for and undoubtedly will agree upon terms for an exchange of prisoners. Men receiving boxes from their friends at the north and am writing for one myself without much hope of ever getting it.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 16

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: January 4, 1862

Answered Fannie's letter. Received a package from home — letter, pocketbook, etc.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 5