Civil War Letters: A Compilation

We are fortunate to have letters from the Civil War sent home by six Hillsdale County boys. In the summer of 1862, two joined the 18th Michigan Regiment, which was organized by Henry Waldron. Ken Benge is the great nephew, four times removed, from Jonathan Robins. He retains three letters written by Jonathan of Churches Corners, and transcriptions of them appear on our website (hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/jonathan-robins). William Faurot of Fayette Township also joined the 18th Michigan. J. Michael Joslin, who is his third cousin, three times removed, emailed to us scans of four of William’s letters along with fragments of three others (hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/civil-war-letters-wm-faurot). 

Dr. Arvin Whelan of Hillsdale wanted to transfer to the 18th from the 11th Michigan Regiment where he was an assistant surgeon, but that was not to be. He stayed with the 11th from November 1861 to October 1862, when he resigned and then became the chief surgeon of the 1st Michigan Sharpshooters in January 1863. His enlistment was supposed to be done in January 1865, but he chose to sign on for an additional year. Sisters Ava Whelan Pence and Bettina Whelan Weiss are direct descendants of Arvin Whelan and graciously donated to us 88 of his letters that were written to his wife, Dell, (hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/arvin-whelan-letters). 

Also in the 1st Michigan Sharpshooters was Jerome Fountain of Hudson. He enlisted in August 1861 and died of the ague (perhaps malaria) in February 1862, so he wouldn’t have been treated by Dr. Whelan. His brother, Hiram Fountain (called Hick), enlisted in the 4th Michigan Infantry in June 1861 and died on the second day of the Battle of Gettysburg in 1863. Ed Pickell, who is related to Jerome and Hick through his grandmother, donated their letters (hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/letters-from-the-civil-war). 

Hubert Smith of Litchfield was also in the 4th Michigan Infantry. We have letters he wrote home during his training at Adrian College through the First Battle of Bull Run in the summer of 1861 (hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/smith-civil-war-letters). These reached us in the most interesting way of all. John Mosher, who was a distant relative of Hubert, received a box from a stranger in Florida. She found these letters at a garage sale and went out of her way to locate a relative. John and his wife were preparing to move and wanted to find a new home for the letters where they would be valued.

After the war ended, William Amburn Gavett and Jirah Isham Young were part of the Quartermaster General’s staff sent to Civil War battlefields to search for and identify the graves of Union soldiers. Will was in the 4th Michigan during the war. Jirah was originally in the 143rd NY Infantry before joining the Quartermaster General’s staff. Will’s letters to Dell Chester of Camden detail part of their quest to find the fallen, but it was Jirah who married Dell. Jirah and Dell are ancestors of Pat Bildner. She shared her transcriptions with us for our website (hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/national-cemeteries).

We value these priceless letters. And we value the people who care deeply about preserving these precious first-person accounts of that most awful of wars.

Some of our soldiers were farm boys leaving home out of a sense of patriotism … and in some cases for adventure. The “boy” whose personality is most evident through 88 letters is really a man; Dr. Arvin Whelan graduated from medical school at the University of Michigan and practiced for a time before volunteering as an assistant surgeon with the 11th Michigan Regiment. He left a wife and two little boys at home, and his love for them shines through his words, as does his sense of duty and his sense of humor. 

The initial enthusiasm and positive expectation for going to war was quickly tempered by the reality of it. Jerome and Hick Fountain had a friend named George who they  both implored not to join the army. Hick told him, “Doe not  under no consideration whatever enlist as a soldier if you want to come down here & see what we are doing just say so & I will send you money to come with but  never enlist.” In January 1863 William Gavett reports that “Recruiting is not verry Brisk   I tell you if I was out of it and a man asked me to enlist I would nock him down I recon.”

Getting letters from home was of the greatest importance to all our soldiers. Part of each letter was usually devoted to reporting when letters had been received. This was probably partly because mail service wasn’t reliable, and it seemed important to let the recipient know which letters had made it. A common phraseology was, “Your letter of ____ came to hand on ____.” Many ended with a plea for letters. Because of the sheer volume of letters kept by Dell Whelan from Arvin, it’s clear that not only did Arvin value letters, but also “good letters.” By this he meant descriptive, interesting and literary letters. The warmth and ease he and Dell had with each other is evident in the expressions of love and gentle teasing that we see in Arvin’s letters. At one point Arvin says to Dell, “To day I received another letter from your dear self in which you threaten to inflict on me lots of letters, I say Amen!! let them be heavy and often and I in my humility will regard them as light affliction for my sake.”

The First Battle of Bull Run/Manassass was on July 21, 1861. It was early in the war, and the troops on both sides were lacking in training. Hubert Smith recounted on July 17 that his regiment was excited to finally see battle. He detailed the preparations for departure and then told about how, when they had marched awhile, the boys noticed “… blueberry bushes surround us, well loaded with fine ripe fruit, which is a luxury we are truly thankful for & appreciated, judging by the amount picked.” Brig. Gen. Irvin McDowell, who had doubts about the readiness of his Union troops, was pulling out his hair. Although he had 35,000 troops to 20,000 Confederate troops and the Union had a clear advantage to begin the battle, it ended with a disorderly retreat of the Union. Hubert’s division didn’t make it to the front in time to be involved, but he was disgusted with the report he heard. “At seven oclock Sunday morning the first shot was fired at Bull Run—the contested place—near Manassas Junction. The booming of cannon was distinctly heard by us in quick succession through the whole day untill five P.M. when the order to retreat was given, and hastily obeyed. Not because our troops were frightened - but it was useless to undertake to drive the enemy from their stand. That the South have a great advantage of being on their own soil it is useless to deny.”

The Confederate soldiers were just boys, like the Union soldiers. But each became “the enemy” to the other. Creating a monster to fight helped them take a step back, justifying the killing they did. In September 1862, with his regiment surrounded and running out of food, Arvin was unusually bitter. “We have had reverses enough and when we go south again let be with a sword in one hand and plenty of rope in the other driving every secesh man woman & child before us to the full if its briny waters would not refuse to receive the miserable divils  I want no more pitting of the Divils and no more favors shown them.”

Almost 200,000 of the Union soldiers were “colored,” making up 10% of the army and 0.11% of  the navy. It’s clear from the way the Northern soldiers report on their interaction with Negroes that they carried a deep-seated racism. Most of the blacks were in support roles. When  Hubert was in training at Adrian College in 1861, he complained about “… the food served by a corps of 30 Negroes for cooks ….” Once in Virginia at “Richmond Plantation,” he reported that “the lady owning it raises ‘Negro Stock’—it being more profitable” than the crops they used to grow. In December of that year Arvin’s regiment was passing near Bardstown, Ky. He describes the farms and houses and relates that “… as we were passing hundreds of whites ad blacks came to see us … While at a respectful distance might be seen a squad of secesh with frowning and smothered wrath yet quiet demeanor  The darkies were really merry peeping from behind the stone walls with their broad grins and a ‘God bless de union and de soldier’   When they were asked if massa was a union man then would answer he say he is.”  

Eventually the colored regiments, led by white officers, participated in battles, and were often placed in untenable positions. After a Union loss near Petersburg, Va., on August 3, 1863, all were in a hurry to assign blame. Arvin concluded that the reason for the loss was, in part, that the Rebels “… were too strong and a failure in part to carry out the program of battle,” while “… every body charges it to every body and finally place it upon the heads of the poor [colored troops] who were expected to charge beyond the second line of works captured by the 1st Divis - and did not,” thus providing an acceptable scapegoat for the Union loss.

Arvin Whelan eventually became the Surgeon in Chief of the 3rd Army Corps 9th Division. He brought a unique point of view as someone who was involved in the medical care, the operation of the hospital and field surgery. The farm boys coming together in large numbers created a petri dish for measles, and the lack of clean water led to serious intestinal problems. In January and February 1862 Arvin was at St. Joseph College in Bardstown, Ky. “There were over 100 cases of measles some 300 more unfit for duty from dysentery, diarrhea & c.” Arvin, himself, suffered throughout the war with diarrhea, at times being so sick that he had to be tended to in a private home. Jerome was stationed in Washington D.C., where many of the invalids were cared for. Hick wrote he “was down in the city yesterday and while there I called on Jerome and found him geting along fine but he looks prety thin.” Jerome put on a good front for his brother’s visit, but died shortly after. 

As well as disease, the wounds of war found the surgeons—and their horses. Arvin reported earlier that his horse, though now quite thin, had adapted remarkably well to the lack of forage. On a ride to headquarters “… the Jonnies pitched in shot and shell as lively as possible all around me   My horse was hit four times and my self twice resulting in no great injury to any one except to the horse’s ‘narrative’ which came very near being docked a little closer than modern horse fashion would warrent.” 

Arvin wrote Dell as the Union forces drew closer to Richmond, Rebel “… deserters are coming in in droves to our lines   In front of our corps last night there  were 45 with two officers and some 55 the night before … its said the average number on our whole lines is between 300 & 400 every night.” “[E]ven the women smile on the Yanks and invite the young and once hated blue coats to their houses and parlors …. Indeed some of our officers are already talking of marrying down here … and taking my observations as a criterion, I would not be surprised if there was some development whether they marry or not.” 

 On April 5, 1865, Arvin scribbled a hurried letter. “When I wrote you last Saturday night the great battle had opened - and at 4 AM we charged and held  them all day fighting most desperately suffice it to sa we cleand them most gallantly   Petersburg is ours Richmond is ours an the Confederacy has gave up.” On April 14, 1865, he shared his joy. “[M]ore than glorious news reached you that Lee had surrendered and the Rebel Army of Virginia were no more.” This was followed the next day by another. “The nation yesterday rejoiced in grand victories and the re-raising of the same old flag over the battered walls of Ft Sumter and by its gallant defender - but to day is plunged in gloom and sadness - the President and Secretary of War have been assassinated - my God! it seems impossible - a telegram has just reached us bearing the sad, sad news and ere this has carried it all over the country turning the joy of the people into mourning and weeping - a great; good man has been murdered.”

Although throughout the war there was an ongoing prisoner exchange (sometimes in reality and sometimes just theoretically), with the end of the conflict it was accelerated. Jonathan Robins had been a prisoner of war at Cahaba, Ala. He was paroled, along with others from Andersonville, Ga. Even after the war ended, soldiers couldn’t just go home. They needed to be formally mustered out. Jonathan and his fellow parolees traveled to Vicksburg, Miss., to await steamboat transport north. On April 14, 1865, Jonathan wrote to his sister Sophia his thoughts about the return home of the soldiers. “What a rejoicing time it will be when Brothers and Sisters meet and sons and mothers meet it will be a day to be remembered … thare will be many tears shed for those that hase fallen on the field of Battle … but we know that they fell in a good cause all I have Suffered is for the old flag and I would Suffer a grate deal more before I would see that old flag go down.” Ten days later Jonathan and over  2,000 fellow parolees boarded the Sultana, dangerously overloading it. Three days later three of the four overworked boilers exploded, and Jonathan, who had survived the rigors of war and the privations of  Cahaba, perished.

The battlefields, now quiet, were left for the Quartermaster’s staff, including Will Gavett and Jirah Young, to begin their task of finding the graves of the fallen.

There is one final Civil War soldier whose letters we have, thanks to Sarah Fallon Briggs. They were written by Lewis Rice to his wife, Lovina Bailey Rice, and forwarded by her to her parents. They were transcribed by Sarah’s great-grandmother, Cora Bailey Dimmers. Cora transcribed the letters in longhand and as is, unusual spellings included. In them, Lewis talks about Sherman’s march to the sea and the devastation left behind. Although the citizenry buried their belongings “… still the yanks keep going on further and further and take all they can find for mules horses and men to eat and they find all there is I can tell you ….” The letters can be found, in Cora’s handwriting, on our website at hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/civil-war-letters-from-lewis-rice