Digitizing and Transcribing the Blanchard Brothers’ Civil War Letters

DIGITIZING AND TRANSCRIBING THE BLANCHARD BROTHERS’ CIVIL WAR LETTERS

Katherine Ann Vallaire B.A., California State University, Chico, 2005

PROJECT

Submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of

MASTERS OF ARTS

HISTORY (Public History)

CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, SACRAMENTO

SPRING 2011

DIGITIZING AND TRANSCRIBING THE BLANCHARD BROTHERS’ CIVIL WAR LETTERS

A Project

Katherine Ann Vallaire

Approved by:

______, Committee Chair Lee Simpson, PhD

______, Second Reader Patrick Ettinger, PhD

______Date

iii

Student: Katherine Ann Vallaire

I certify that this student has met the requirements for format contained in the University format manual, and that this project is suitable for shelving in the Library and credit is to be awarded for the project.

______, Department Chair ______Aaron Cohen, PhD Date

Department of History

Abstract

DIGITIZING AND TRANSCRIBING THE BLANCHARD BROTHERS’ CIVIL WAR LETTERS

Katherine Ann Vallaire

Franklin and Eli Blanchard of Farmington, Michigan enlisted in Company K of the 24th

Michigan Volunteer Infantry Regiment to serve the Union during the Civil War. One hundred and fifty of their letters from when they were serving are located at the

California Department of Parks and Recreation State Museum Resource Center. This thesis contains a history of the Blanchards and of the 24th Michigan regiment, a review of epistolary customs used during the time, and an overview of the methods used to transcribe and digitize the letters. The appendix includes the transcriptions in chronological arrangement with a few annotations for historical context.

, Committee Chair Lee Simpson

______Date

v ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank Curators Jena Peterson and Anne Fry at the Department of

Parks and Recreation State Museum Resource Center for providing me the opportunity to explore and handle this collection. They were supportive and willing to help any way they could throughout this entire project. I would also like to thank Wil Jorae at DPR’s

Photographic Archives for making room for me in the scanning office in order to digitize all of the letters and for helping me with Adobe Photoshop. Librarian Judy Donlin and the volunteers at the Farmington Community Library in Farmington, Michigan also deserve special recognition for their assistance.

vi TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

Acknowledgements ...... vi List of Tables ...... viii Chapter 1. INTRODUCTION ...... 1 2. BACKGROUND OF STUDY ...... 3 The Blanchard Family...... 3 The 24th Michigan Volunteer Infantry Regiment in the Civil War...... 7 Epistolary Conventions during the Civil War ...... 18 Historiography of Editing and Transcribing Historical Documents ...... 29 3. METHODS ...... 44 Processing and Digitizing the Collection ...... 44 Editing and Transcribing the Collection ...... 58 Researching ...... 63 Appendix. Transcriptions of the Blanchard Brothers’ Civil War Letters ...... 67 Bibliography ...... 190

vii LIST OF TABLES

Page

1. Table 1. Inventory list of scanned letters, no envelopes, with object numbers ...... 49

2. Table 2. Inventory list of scanned letters, no envelopes, without object numbers, folder 1 ...... 51

3. Table 3. Inventory list of scanned letters, no envelopes, without object numbers, folder 2 ...... 52

4. Table 4. Inventory list of scanned letters, with envelopes, with object numbers, folder 1 ...... 53

5. Table 5. Inventory list of scanned letters with envelopes, with object numbers, folder 2 ...... 53

6. Table 6. Inventory list of scanned letters, with envelopes, with object numbers, folder 3 ...... 55

7. Table 7. Inventory list of scanned letters with envelopes, no object numbers, folder 1 ...... 56

8. Table 8. Inventory list of scanned letters with envelopes, no object numbers, folder 2 ...... 57

viii 1

Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION

Elma Pearl Atchison donated a collection of artifacts and archival documents to

the California Department of Parks and Recreation State Museum Resource Center

(SMRC) in the early 1960s. The Atchison collection consists of personal items and

documents that belonged to her father, Andrew Johnson, and her mother, Annie Crooks.

There were multiple distinct sets of letters contained within this collection. One such set

is approximately 150 letters from Franklin and Eli Blanchard, two soldier brothers

serving in the same Union regiment during the Civil War, to their parents back home in

Michigan. The Atchison collection also consisted of a group of letters from the 1880s and

1890s between Annie and her sisters. The sisters lived in Salmon Falls, California during

the time that Franklin and his family lived near there. How the Blanchard letters ended up

in Elma Atchison’s possession is a mystery. There are only two connections linking the

Blanchards with Elma’s family. J. Johnson, presumably Andrew Johnson’s mother

Judith, was a teacher in the district and worked with John E. Blanchard, Franklin

Blanchard’s younger brother. The only other connection between the two families is the

issues they shared regarding the Natoma Water and Mining Company. According to their letters, the Crooks had a lawsuit against the Natoma Water and Mining Company over

property rights. The Blanchards possessed property surrounded by the Natoma Water and

Mining Company and during this time, many residents complained about the company’s

domination of and restrictions on local water.

While working as a student assistant at the SMRC, I opened a small cardboard

box and found the Blanchard brother Civil War letters packed tightly within it, untouched

and forgotten for about fifty years. While repacking them in acid-free materials and filing

them away in an acid-free box, I wondered if I was preparing them for the same doom,

and so the idea of this project transpired. This thesis contains a review of the literature on

editing and transcription practices, background research on the Blanchards and the 24th

Michigan Volunteer Infantry of which they were soldiers, and an overview of my

experience digitizing and transcribing over 150 handwritten letters from soldiers writing in the field over 150 years ago. The transcriptions and my authorial annotations are located in the appendix. This thesis can provide invaluable information for individuals interested in the personal experiences and epistolary practices of Civil War soldiers.

Chapter 2

BACKGROUND OF STUDY

The Blanchard Family

Worthy and Mary Lapham Blanchard lived in Farmington, Oakland County,

Michigan. They had five sons: Franklin Allen, Eli A., Asa Lapham, John “Ernest,” and

Volney who the brothers nicknamed “Bonny.” Like many daughterless women of that time period, Mary would often take in a young girl to help with housework. Worthy was a farmer and expected his sons to help him work; however, during the winter, he allowed the boys to attend school in Ypsilanti. The boys preferred this school because they believed it offered a better education than their small hometown school did. Many of the

Blanchards had worked as teachers around the Farmington area. John eventually taught school in Farmington in 1872 and 1873 before moving to California and teaching in

Folsom. Asa taught school for a while before graduating from the University of

Michigan’s Department of Medicine and Surgery in 1878 and becoming a medical doctor, and Volney taught school before dedicating himself to farming.1

The Blanchards and Laphams had many relatives who lived within the vicinity of

Oakland County. It was a very tight-knit community during the latter half of the

nineteenth century. Both families had settled in Farmington in the 1820s and bought large

parcels of land on which to farm. Mary’s maiden name, Lapham, is particularly

1 Obituary of Mrs. Leland Green, Farmington Enterprise, unknown, 1899; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, September 19, 1863; Obituary of Dr. Asa Lapham Blanchard, Northville Record, November 6, 1906; Obituary of Volney Blanchard, Farmington Enterprise, February 13, 1936.

significant in Oakland County history. Ethan Lapham participated in the Underground

Railroad guiding runaway slaves to freedom through Farmington. 2

In August 1862, Franklin and Eli Blanchard enlisted as volunteers for the 24th

Michigan Infantry regiment of the Union army in Livonia, Michigan, a community just

south of Farmington. Franklin was 20 years and Eli was 18 years old when they enlisted.

They were both mustered into Company K of the 24th Michigan regiment on August 15,

1862. Franklin was mustered into service as a private on August 12, 1862. Eli was

mustered into service as a musician, along with a friend Webster Woods, on August 5,

1862. Because their community was so intimate, many of their friends and acquaintances,

including their cousin Marvin “Marve” Lapham, joined the service and were mustered

into Company K with the Blanchard brothers.3

The Blanchard brothers’ Civil War letters reveal distinct and separate characteristics of Eli and Franklin Blanchard. Eli was an animated, cheerful young man.

He was a musician and loved playing in the band. He played the drum when he joined the army, moved on to the horn to join the brass band, then played the cymbal, and then played the bass drum when he left the army. The letters he wrote to his parents are often witty, full of promises and apologies, and contain reminiscences of him and his mates

having fun. According to the letters, Eli was one of the best athletes of their company and

everybody in the regiment admired him. Eli was not as shy as Franklin was, and he often

jokes and makes witty remarks in his letters. There are a few instances where Eli would

2 Carol E Mull, The Underground Railroad in Michigan (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2010), 80.

3 O. B. Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade; Known as the Detroit and Wayne County Regiment (1891; repr. Gaithersburg, MD: Olde Soldier Books, Inc., 1988 reprint), 343.

write a few lines at the very end of Franklin’s letters informing their parents that he is

well but has nothing more to write since Franklin had already covered everything of

importance.

Franklin’s letters denote a more serious and sensitive personality. His letters are

mostly long and thoughtful, and he often uses the entire sheet of paper. A few of

Franklin’s letters contain reflective prose about the war, friendship, or nature. He rarely

spaces his paragraphs, suggesting either poor command of style conventions or a

resourceful use of paper. Both brothers omit punctuation and make many grammatical

mistakes; however, Franklin’s spelling is inconsistent and he misspells words more

frequently than Eli does. The brothers’ letters from 1862 are almost indecipherable

compared with their letters from 1863, 1864, and 1865. In fact, there is a diachronic improvement in the handwriting, spelling, and sentence structure found in both Eli and

Franklin’s letters from 1862 to 1865.

Serving in the Civil War was an honorable, life-altering experience for both brothers. The camaraderie among soldiers in the same company, traveling through the southern states, witnessing the emancipation of slaves, and the hand-to-hand skirmishes that ensued between citizens of the same nation all contributed to the unique experience of the Civil War soldier. From the time they enlisted to when they left, the brothers retained a positive outlook on their circumstances. They wrote passionately about their cause and believed they were fighting for just reasons.

After contracting the mumps at Camp Butler in Springfield, Illinois, Eli left on sick furlough never to return. He died on June 21, 1865 at his home in Farmington,

Michigan, nine days before the 24th Michigan regiment was officially mustered out of

service. Franklin returned home too late to say goodbye to his younger brother.4

After the war, Franklin married family friend Lillian “Lulu” Fairmen Bradner.

The Bradner family was also one of the first families to settle in Oakland County,

Michigan. In 1837, one of the Bradners, presumably Lillian’s father, assisted in recording

and platting the village of Plymouth, Michigan. The Blanchard family knew the Bradners

well, and would visit them occasionally at their home in Plymouth. Franklin and Lulu had

three daughters in Farmington, Mary, Satie, and Natrina.5

In the early 1870s, Franklin moved to Granite, California with his brother John E.

Blanchard. They purchased 182 acres of property along Clarksville Road surrounded on

three sides by land owned by the Natoma Water and Mining Company. Eventually, Lulu

and their three children joined Franklin in California. Lulu’s mother, Elvira Bradner, later

moved from Michigan to join her daughter’s family in California. Franklin and John

often wrote to their parents imploring them to come visit California, but they never did

come. Franklin and John began prospecting in granite, and eventually attempted to

establish their own mine. In January 1880, the State of California, County of Sacramento

listed Franklin and John’s property on their delinquent tax list and threatened to auction it

off on February 16th of that year. Although Franklin moved to California to become a

prospector, he identified himself as a farmer and his brother identified himself as a

4 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 380; Letter from Worthy Blanchard to Franklin Blanchard, June 20, 1865.

5 Walter Romig, Michigan Place Names: The History of the Founding and the Naming of More Than Five Thousand Past and Present Michigan Communities (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1986), 448; Correspondence between Mary and Franklin Blanchard, 1870s to 1880s, Atchison Collection, California Department of parks and Recreation’s State Museum Resource Center, West Sacramento.

teacher in the 1880 United States census. Presumably, their prospecting ventures failed.

In 1899, however, Folsom Prison guards proposed the sinking of a granite shaft on

Franklin’s property. The prison guards were familiar with granite mining; the Folsom

State Prison had its own granite and diorite quarry in the 1890s, and used the granite from

this quarry to build the prison’s powerhouse, canal, and dam.6

Lulu died in 1900, and Franklin died six years later. In 1912, Lulu’s mother Elvira

followed. Satie Blanchard never married or had any children, and was buried next to her

parents at the Mormon Island Cemetery, which is now located under Folsom Lake. Those

buried at this cemetery were reinterred at the Lakeside Memorial Cemetery and Veterans

Cemetery in Folsom, California. Mary Blanchard married Carl Knight and lived in

Sacramento, California. Natrina Blanchard moved to San Diego and never married or had

any children.7

The 24th Michigan Volunteer Infantry Regiment in the Civil War

In June 1862, more than a year after the Civil War commenced, President Lincoln

called for 300,000 new volunteers to join the Union army. Nearly a month passed before

Michigan Governor Austin Blair made a proclamation urging the state’s citizens to act.

Blair had already sent sixteen infantry regiments to serve and was at that time having

6 Sacramento Daily Union, January 26, 1880; Sacramento Daily Union, August 21, 1899; California State Mining Bureau, The Tenth Annual Report of the State Mineralogist for the Year Ending December 1, 1890 (Sacramento: State Printing Office, 1890), 511.

7 Billie Harris, Sacramento County Cemeteries (1981, repr. online in 2000), 36, http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~casags/SacramentoCoCemeteries.pdf (accessed November 2010); Obituary of Satie B. Blanchard, Sacramento Union, December 17, 1941; Obituary of Mary B. Knight, Sacramento Union, March 25, 1955.

trouble raising a seventeenth. When Lincoln called for more men in 1862, Blair called for

seven more infantry regiments. Towns and cities across Michigan held war meetings

where patriotic citizens rallied to discuss recruitment. Though some riots occurred, the

outcome of enlistment signatures far exceeded the expectations of Governor Blair. All

seven new infantry regiments were full, and the seventeenth regiment as well as the

original sixteen regiments had new recruits joining them. 8

The 24th Michigan regiment consisted of men from Wayne and Oakland

Counties. It was mustered into United States service on August 15, 1862 and contained

1,030 men split between ten companies, A through I, and K. Each company consisted of

100 men. Most of the men were farmers in their early twenties, and some were in their

late teens. Eli A. and Franklin A. Blanchard were two such men. Eli enlisted on August

5th, 1862 into Company K with his friend, Webster A. (Web) Wood, as the only two

volunteer musicians. Since each company had a bugler and a drummer, and Eli played the

drum when he enlisted, Web presumably played the horn. His brother, Franklin, enlisted

seven days later as a private. At the time of enlistment, Eli was 18 years old and Franklin

was 20 years old. Their letters imply that they were both enthusiastic about serving their

country and abolishing slavery in the United States.9

The original officers and staff of the 24th Michigan regiment are as follows:

Colonel Henry A. Morrow, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Flanigan, Major Henry W. Nalls,

8 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 24-37.

9 Donald L. Smith, The Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade (Harrisburg, PA: The Stackpole Company, 1962), 14; Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 321- 345.

Adjutant James J. Barns, Surgeon Dr. John H. Beech, Assistant Surgeons Dr. Charles C.

Smith and Dr. Alexander Collar, and Chaplain William C. Way. The original officers of

Company K are as follows: Captain Wallace W. Wight, First Lieutenant Walter H.

Wallace, and Second Lieutenant David Birrell. The Blanchard brothers mention many of these names in their letters, as well as names of other enlisted lower ranking individuals.10

The enlisted men spent the first couple of weeks training in Camp Barns, the old state fairgrounds in Detroit, Michigan. While at this camp, they began learning drills, and they drew the necessary supplies they would need while serving far from home. On

August 29, 1862, the 24th Michigan Regiment paraded through Detroit to the Michigan

Central Wharf where they departed by boat to Cleveland, Ohio. Companies F, G, H, I, and K boarded the Cleveland, while Companies A, B, C, D, and E boarded the May

Queen. They left Cleveland and on August 31 arrived by train at Baltimore. Soon after their arrival, the War Department mistakenly sent the 24th Michigan regiment to Fort

Baker and the 17th Michigan to join General John Gibbon’s Fourth Brigade of the First

Division of the First Army Corps of the Army of the Potomac.11

This brigade would soon become the famous Iron Brigade, earning their name after General George McClellan witnessed them hold their ground like a wall of iron against their enemy at South Mountain, Maryland on September 17, 1862. They wore distinctive tall, black hats that set them apart from other soldiers. Originally, the 24th

10 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 321.

11 Smith, The Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 13, 24; Curtis, History of the Twenty- Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 48-49, 55.

Michigan regiment was supposed to join Gibbon’s brigade to reinforce them during this battle; however, General McClellan assigned them to this brigade on October 9, 1862.

The brigade consisted then of the 24th Michigan, 19th Indiana, and 7th, 6th, and 2nd

Wisconsin infantry regiments.12

The original soldiers of the Iron Brigade were at first unfriendly towards the 24th

Michigan regiment, and were uncertain if these new recruits could live up to the Iron

Brigade’s reputation. Soon enough, however, the 24th Michigan regiment proved their worthiness to the rest of the Brigade. They learned quickly, fought hard, and eventually earned the respect of others in the brigade. They showed their eagerness to prove themselves during their first major battle at Fredericksburg.13

The Army of the Potomac’s duty was to defend Washington D.C. They would often use river warfare tactics such as building pontoons and standing guard on picket duty along the river. Often, their enemy would be in plain sight directly across the river also on picket. The feuding soldiers would sometimes converse with one another, and at times, traded tobacco, knives, and papers. Because of their proximity to the rivers, they were constantly at the front lines of battle. In October 1862, while camped in Maryland

12 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 452; Smith, The Twenty- Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 30.

13 Lance J. Herdegen, The Men Stood Like Iron: How the Iron Brigade Won Its Name (Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1997), 206-207; Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 65; Alan T. Nolan, The Iron Brigade: A Military History (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1961), 181-188.

near Harper’s Ferry, a hot air balloon would ascend each day to plot where the

Confederate troops were stationed on the opposite side of the Potomac.14

On November 10, 1862, General Ambrose Burnside superseded McClellan as

Commander of the Army of the Potomac. Later that month, he sent the 24th Michigan

regiment to Aquia Creek, opposite from the city of Fredericksburg, to guard the railroad

on which the train named “Government” hauled supplies. Each company of the regiment

guarded a specific section of the railroad. It was common for soldiers to rip up and burn

the ties from railroads used by their enemy. Obstructions like trees and heavy brush made

it impossible to view approaching enemies. The soldiers would clear all that grew within

three to four miles of the railroad.15

On December 5, 1862, the 24th marched to Brook’s Station. While stationed there, many of the 24th became sick from exposure and some even lost their lives. The

men who could stand duty were sent to guard the railroad. Trains carrying supplies from

Harper’s Ferry would pass them daily. Often, boxes or barrels would drop or someone on

the train would throw one off to the soldiers on guard. Some boxes dropped off contained

cigars, papers, and cakes.16

When Union forces approached Fredericksburg on December 11, 1862, the

Confederate army was prepared for battle. They had built earthworks along the river and

14 Smith, The Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 69, 105; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, May 17, 1863; Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 68.

15 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 77, 83.

16 Nolan, The Iron Brigade, 1961, 176-177; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, December 9, 1862.

set ranges of artillery in the hills overlooking the city. On this day, Union forces

attempted multiple times to lay pontoons across the river. Confederate soldiers began

shooting at them and Union batteries fired upon the city in return. After hours of fighting,

the 7th Michigan regiment gallantly crossed the river and confronted the Confederate

soldiers hiding in rifle pits. General Burnside repeatedly sent troops to the front but to no

avail. The battle lasted until the 15th, when the Army of the Potomac silently retreated

back over the river on their pontoons in the middle of the night. The Army of the

Potomac lost 12,653 men and the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia lost 5,377 men

at the battle of Fredericksburg. The 24th fought noticeably well for their first

engagement, and proved their worthiness to the original soldiers of the Iron Brigade.

General Solomon Meredith had replaced General Gibbon as commander of the Iron

Brigade, and led the brigade for the first time during this battle. After camping across the

river for four days, they retreated and the 24th marched to their winter quarters near Belle

Plain’s Landing, Virginia.17

About a month after the battle of Fredericksburg, General Burnside readied the

Army of the Potomac for another confrontation with Confederate forces against the

president’s orders in a failed attempt to reestablish his reputation as a general. On January

20, 1863, Burnside ordered his troops to march towards the front. This mid-winter effort

became known as Burnside’s “mud march” because the roads were so muddy and the

weather so poor that it prevented nearly any movement. Burnside aborted the mission and

17 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 86-97; Smith, The Twenty- Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 55-70.

13 ordered his troops back to winter quarters once realizing his attempt was futile. On

January 26, Burnside resigned and General Joseph Hooker took his place as commanding general.18

Soldiers were relatively idle in winter during the Civil War. It became considerably cooler during the winter months and would often snow. It was nearly impossible to march in the rain and mud. During this season, the 24th would set up camp at their winter quarters. On December 23, 1862, they set up camp near Belle Plain’s

Landing, Virginia. While here, many of the officers’ wives visited camp making it an altogether pleasant experience for everyone. When not in battle or marching, the soldiers had drill for six hours a day and dress parade every day at five o’clock p.m.19

On April 28, 1863, the 24th left their winter quarters and headed to Fitzhugh

Crossing, four miles below Fredericksburg. Heavy crossfire ensued over the river while

Union soldiers attempted to unload their boats and lay down a pontoon bridge. The 24th

Michigan and 6th Wisconsin regiments stormed across the river while the 2nd Wisconsin regiment launched the pontoons. They were successful in their raid and captured 103 prisoners. By May 1st, the Union army had laid breastworks consisting of earth and farming implements and held their ground well. A thunderstorm commenced and lasted three days while the Union army stood their ground. They then moved north on May 3rd

18 Nolan, The Iron Brigade, 191-194; Smith, The Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 78-79; Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 110-112.

19 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 105.

to reinforce Hooker in his unsuccessful attempt to take Fredericksburg from the rear by

way of Chancellorsville.20

The 24th marched to Falmouth, Virginia on May 7th, and camped on the Fitzhugh

Estate, a property that George Washington’s family once owned. They named this

encampment Camp Way after their chaplain. While here, they were ordered on picket

duty along the river. Across this river and in plain sight were Confederate soldiers on

picket duty. They would often engage in trading and conversation with one another.

While at this camp, Colonel Morrow took about 1,200 men from the Iron Brigade on an

expedition to guard the Northern Neck Peninsula from any Confederate troops attempting

to intercept the 8th Illinois Cavalry. Franklin was one of the members chosen for this

crew, and Eli stayed back in camp.21

On May 27th, the Iron Brigade received their famous black hats, and on June 1st,

they officially became the First Brigade of the First Division of the First Corps of the

Army of the Potomac. They departed Camp Way on June 12th, marched all day for five

days, and reached camp near Centreville, Virginia on June 16th. While at this camp, they

learned of Confederate Army General Robert E. Lee’s invasion of Pennsylvania and

Maryland and were ordered to march the next day towards Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

After General Hooker’s failure at Chancellorsville, he requested the War Department to

20 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 125-131; Smith, The Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 90-93.

21 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 137-140; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, May 17, 1863; Letter from Franklin Blanchard to his aunt, May 17, 1863; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, May 26, 1863; letter from Franklin Blanchard to his mother, May 28, 1863.

relieve him from command. The War Department transferred command of the Army of

the Potomac from General Hooker to General George G. Meade on June 28th, 1863.

Both General Lee and General Meade hastily readied their men for battle. On July 1,

1863, the Union charged the Confederate Army at Gettysburg. Throughout the day, they

attempted six lines of battle until falling back. The next two days they stayed back on

reserve behind breastworks on Culp’s Hill. By the end of the battle, over 40,000 men lie dead or dying on the Gettysburg battlefield. The 24th Michigan sustained the greatest loss of men of all Union regiments that fought at Gettysburg. The 24th Michigan entered the battle on July 1st with 496 men, and by the end of that first day, only 99 rallied around their flag. The Iron Brigade lost 1,153 men at the battle of Gettysburg, more than any other Union brigade did. By the end of the Civil War, they sustained one of the highest rates of casualties among all Union brigades.22

On July 6, 1863, the Confederate Army had retreated with the Union Army

following their trail. The 24th partook in the chase for over a month, camping and

marching all over Virginia, until settling near the Rappahannock Station ruins which they

called “Camp Merritt” for a few weeks at the end of August and the first half of

September. The Confederate Army had taken Franklin prisoner during the battle of

Gettysburg and then paroled him to a northern hospital in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to

recover from a slight hand wound. Eli had been ordered to the First Division hospital in

22 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 141-143, 153-173.

Gettysburg to assist the surgeons in amputations. They met again in Camp Merritt the

first week of September.23

The 24th left Camp Merritt on September 16, 1863 and moved around quite a bit until settling down at Camp Dickey along the Rappahannock River near Beverly’s Ford,

Virginia on November 9th. They remained there for a few weeks rebuilding the railroad

and serving picket duty. On November 26th, General Meade ordered the army to advance

towards Lee’s army. They stopped at Locust Grove on November 29th, and upon viewing

the enemy’s works, decided to abort the mission and return to camp on December 1st.24

The 24th made winter quarters near Culpeper, Virginia at the beginning of

December 1863. By the beginning of February, Franklin went on safeguard duty at the family Hawkins’ residence. While there, he courted the daughter, Kittie, until discovering she was engaged to a rebel soldier. They remained at winter quarters until May, when they marched forward to engage in the battle of the Wilderness on May 5 and 6, 1864. In the next six weeks, the battles of Wilderness, Laurel Hill, Spotsylvania, North Anna,

Bethesda Church, and Cold Harbor, led to the battle and siege of Petersburg, Virginia on

June 17 through 22, 1864. Colonel Morrow had left on a sick furlough stemming from a wound received from the battle at Wilderness, and General A. M. Edwards took command of the 24th. Eli assisted the surgeons once more at the 4th Division hospital near Petersburg while Franklin engaged in local skirmishes. He was on duty guarding the

23 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 193-201; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, July 5, 1863; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, July 24, 1863; Letter from Franklin Blanchard to his mother, July 29, 1863; Letter from Franklin Blanchard to his mother, August 7, 1863.

24 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 202-213.

sutler at the beginning of August and continued to guard him until the end of

September.25

During this time, deserters of the Confederate Army were surrendering at an

escalating rate. General Ulysses S. Grant noticed that the Confederate Army was

dwindling, yet continued to engage in battle as long as they resisted. Lee still occupied

Richmond, Virginia, which lies approximately 22 miles from Petersburg. After the Union

Army took possession of Petersburg and began constructing a fort, the Confederate Army

tried desperately to halt their production by firing at them ceaselessly. They constructed

Fort Sedgwick and continued guarding the Weldon Railroad until mid-December, when

they moved to a camp along Jerusalem Plank Road for winter quarters, and on December

22nd, Colonel Morrow rejoined the army and took command of the brigade. 26

On February 11, 1865, the 24th received word to pack their things and report to

Warren Station to return to Baltimore. From Baltimore, the 24th were sent to do guard

duty at the recruitment camp for drafted men, Camp Butler in Springfield, Illinois. While

serving at Camp Butler, they found the barracks filthy and overcrowded, and disease

spread quickly. Franklin received a furlough to go home at the end of March and return at

the beginning of April. On April 9, 1865, Lee officially surrendered Richmond,

representing victory to the Union Army. Eli celebrated by joining some comrades on a

night out in Baltimore. By April 24th, Eli contracted the mumps like many others in

camp and left on sick furlough. He returned home and seemed to be getting better by

25 Letter from Franklin Blanchard to his father, February 11, 1864; Curtis, History of the Twenty- Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 230-268; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his mother, June 26, 1864.

26 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 268-284.

May 29th. On June 20, 1865, his father wrote to Franklin pleading him to return home

because Eli’s health was failing. Eli passed away the next day, just nine days preceding

the 24th’s discharge from service.27

The 24th Michigan Infantry regiment retains its reputation as one of the most

dutiful and steadfast regiments that served in the Civil War. They were so beloved that

the War Department chose them to escort President Lincoln’s coffin during his funeral. In

1889, the Michigan Legislature appropriated funds to erect a monument at Gettysburg in

honor of the 24th regiment. It stands where they formed their first battle line within

McPherson’s Woods.28

Epistolary Conventions during the Civil War

The Blanchard brothers wrote frequently to their parents when they were serving in the Union army during the Civil War. When examining their letters, the reader notices certain habitual phrases and writing customs that the brothers commonly used. In order to fully understand why the Blanchard brothers wrote the way they did, it is necessary to assess the epistolary conventions used during the nineteenth century. Historical theory in the last 20 years has centered on discourse analysis, and historians are now more than

ever before studying linguistic conventions used in letter writing throughout time. Letters

are essentially primary sources created by individuals and intended for a specific

audience. They are a mode for expressing the author’s experiences, expectations, and

27 Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 294-297; Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, April 5, 1865.

28 Smith, The Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 252-253; Curtis, History of the Twenty-Fourth Michigan of the Iron Brigade, 262.

19 desires, and they generally follow identifiable structured formulas. Eli and Franklin addressed most of the letters within the collection to their parents; however, some they addressed to their brothers, to their cousin Marve who served in the Union army also, and to their Aunt Hannah. According to statements in their letters, they wrote to other friends and family members as well. What they chose to write about and how they described their experiences varied according to their intended recipient. This chapter examines how nineteenth century conventions in letter writing transpired and evolved leading to the writing customs of Civil War soldiers.

Letters during the nineteenth century were typically handwritten documents containing interpersonal messages directed from a letter writer to a recipient. There is always a form of address towards the recipient at the beginning and a closing line and signature at the end. The letter writer typically provides the date and place where he or she wrote the letter at the top right of the document. The letter writer would send the letter to the recipient via a postal system, though sometimes they would give it to a traveler going in the direction of the recipient. Even though the letter writer directed their letter specifically to the recipient, they knew the recipient could possibly reveal the letter to others. Both the letter writer and the recipient were aware of the possibility that their letters would be lost in transit. They were also aware of the longevity of letter transit, and in the case of the Blanchard brothers, they sometimes would suggest to their parents to use express mail when sending letters or boxes. Letters follow conventional formulas that are specific to the relationship between writer and recipient. Many letters, especially those from women and those directed to fathers, contained apologies. Most importantly,

letters signify a distance between the two parties involved. They contain themes that

focus on health, well-being, separation, the letter writer’s recent experiences and

thoughts, and reunification.29

In the early nineteenth century, Americans retained certain established conventions

for letter writing. These standards were customary throughout the seventeenth and

eighteenth centuries in America and Western Europe and, according to Norman Davis,

were established in Europe circa the fifteenth century. Davis classified these conventions

as a set of seven formulas which letter writers followed. They generally follow the same

pattern within each letter, and Davis numerically classifies them as such:

1.) a form of address with an adjective of respect followed by a noun that distinguishes

the relationship of the writer to the recipient, for example, “Loving husband, Beloved

wife, Dear brother, etc;”

2.) a warm greeting followed by an expression of humility, and a request for a blessing

if the letter’s recipient is a parent;

3.) an inquiry of the recipient’s health or well-being;

4.) an expression hoping for the continuation of the recipient’s well-being;

5.) a conditional clause where the writer offers news of their well-being, for example,

“You probably would like to know how we are getting along;”

6.) report of the writer’s health or well-being at the time of writing; and

7.) a praise to God for both the recipient and the writer’s well-being.30

29 Sue Walker, “The Manners of the Page: Prescription and Practice in the Visual Organization of Correspondence,” Huntington Library Quarterly vol. 66, no. 3/4 Studies in the Cultural History of Letter Writing (2003), 307-309; William Merrill Decker, Epistolary Practices: Letter Writing in American before Telecommunications (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1998), 18-22; Letter from Franklin Blanchard to his father, December 28th, 1863.

Often, a writer will combine in their letter formulas three through seven into one phrase. Davis refers to this as the “health formula.” An example of the health formula is present in Franklin’s letter to his mother dated November 10, 1862. He begins his letter,

“Dear Mother, I received your letter yesterday with great pleasure and was glad to hear that you were all well and that you were getting along so well, and I hope that you will continue to do so. Eli and myself are well and enjoying ourselves first rate.”31

Sociolinguistic historian Frances Austin expounds upon Davis’ classification system in his article, “Heaving this Importunity: The Survival of Opening Formulas in

Letters in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries.” Austin explains that during the eighteenth century, upper-class citizens began their letters (after addressing their recipient and a brief salutation) with one of several opening formulas. Austin divides these formulas into four categories:

1. an intention to write, usually containing phrases such as “this comes with my kind

love to you,” “I take up my pen to write,” “I received your kind letter/favor of the [date],”

“I take this opportunity,” and/or “to let you know;”

2. a wish for the recipients health;

3. a statement of the letter writer’s health; and

4. a praise to God for good health.32

30 Norman Davis, “The Litera Troili and English Letters.” The Review of English Studies, vol. 16, no. 63 (August 1965), 236.

31 Ibid; Letter from Franklin Blanchard to his mother, November 10, 1862.

32 Frances Austin, “Heaving this Importunity: The Survival of Opening Formulas in Letters in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries,” Historical Sociolinguistics and Sociohistorical Linguistics,

Austin appropriately identifies the last three formulas as Davis’ health formula.

He explains how in the nineteenth century, lower-class citizens adopted these formulas

while the upper class dropped them from their letters. Austin found in his research that during the mid- to late-nineteenth century, Davis’ “health” formula is present in most

lower-class letters of both men and women, absent in most upper-class letters of men, and present in most upper-class letters of women. This is not a phenomenon in nineteenth- century America; during this period, lower-class citizens imitated upper-class citizens in almost every aspect of life, including clothing style, speech, and social practices simply because they had the freedom to do so. American society had changed dramatically since breaking from European rule and establishing a republic. The American middle class, however, was concerned with gaining status in society and began referring to letter- writing manuals instructing them on how to write like refined, upper-class citizens.33

Konstantin Dierks suggests that in eighteenth century America, middle-class

tradesmen started referring to instruction manuals that explained social expectations of

how to interact with, communicate with, and how to write letters to their upper-class customers. He argues that the growing trade and commercializing economy produced from settling the New World impelled the British upper class to send these manuals to

American colonists. These manuals served as guides for tradesmen, but were part of a broader appeal for pedagogical materials by Americans in the last half of the eighteenth

(University of Leiden, NL: 2004) http://www.let.leidenuniv.nl/hsl_shl/heaving_this_importunity.htm (accessed January 2011), 2.

33 Austin, “Heaving this Importunity,” 2-7; Konstantin Dierks, In My Power: Letter Writing and Communications in Early America (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009), 61-81.

century. Both men and women started referring to letter-writing manuals during this time.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, schools across America started instructing

their pupils on how to correctly write letters. Lucile M. Schultz argues that an increasing

need to communicate over long distances occurred after the discovery of gold in

California. Once people began moving westward, Americans required letter-writing skills more than ever before.34

Dierks argues that the “familiar letter” grew from a need for family and friends to

communicate from America to Europe and vice versa in the mid-sixteenth century. The

familiar letter was proposed by Samuel Richardson in 1741 in his guide, Letters Written

to and for Particular Friends, on the Most Important Occasions, as a letter that anyone

from any class of society could write for any occasion. This book stimulated publication

of a wide variety of works. According to Dierks, American publishers produced over 400

guides, spelling books, grammar books, and other instructive books on the subject of

writing between 1750 and 1800. He argues that starting in the mid-eighteenth century, the

way a person wrote denoted their place in American society. Properly written letters

signified that the letter writer was a refined individual. Dierks also explains that during

the eighteenth century, American changed its perception on women writing letters.

Formerly, women were discouraged to write. The cultural consensus that women were

naturally incapable of writing ceased, and guides for women on the appropriate way to

34 Dierks, In My Power, 61-81; Samuel Richardson, Letters Written to and for Particular Friends, on the Most Important Occasions (1741); Lucille M. Schultz, “Letter-Writing Instruction in the 19th Century Schools in the United States,” in Letter Writing as a Social Practice, edited by David Barton and Nigel Hall, volume 9 of Studies in Written Language and Literacy (Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1999), 110-111.

write letters appeared in publication during the last part of the eighteenth century.

Although Austin argues people strictly adhered to epistolary conventions during the

nineteenth century, Dierks suggests that letter-writing manuals advised those writing familiar letters to keep the tone affectionate and write as if engaged in conversation.

Consequently, soldiers writing home during the Civil War loosely followed the epistolary

customs that originally evolved from American and European relations, yet also

encompassed casual, affectionate banter within their letters.35

In his book Epistolary Practices: Letter Writing in America before

Telecommunications, William Merrill Decker argues that sending letters via transatlantic

routes during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was highly unreliable at first.

Decker explains that there was a constant sense of doubt that a letter would ever reach its

recipient. He argues that British and American letters reflect this doubt by way of the

author’s choice of expressions. These expressional conventions persist throughout time

until the turn of the twentieth century. As earlier writers had doubted a letter’s

transatlantic survival, many Americans doubted their letters would survive

transcontinental voyages as well. Americans, therefore, retained the epistolary practice of

including doubtful expressions in letters addressed to their recipients even if they lived in

the same country. Even the United States Postal Service (USPS) was unreliable until well

after the Civil War. Those sending letters relied on individuals who were traveling in the

35 Dierks, “The Familiar Letter and Social Refinement in America, 1750-1800,” in Letter Writing as a Social Practice, 32-34.

direction of the recipient to carry the letter to their destination or to a drop point. There

was always the possibility that the letter would not get through to the recipient.36

Franklin was very concerned that his parents were not receiving his letters. In one

particular letter, he asks his mother to number every letter she writes in order for him to

identify how many letters are being lost in transit. Franklin was also very adamant about

his parents writing as often as possible. He frequently implores his parents to write more.

He and Eli often describe to their parents how the postmaster would come to their camp

and deliver many packages and letters for other soldiers, and express the disappointment

they felt when receiving nothing from home. In quite a few of their letters, the brothers

attempt to provoke feelings of guilt within their parents’ consciences. Though this was a

common theme in early American letters, it was a major theme in the epistolary customs

of American soldiers. In War Letters: Extraordinary Correspondence from American

Wars, Andrew Carroll noticed that throughout every war the most prominent theme found within every generation of soldiers’ letters was the yearning they felt for their

recipient to send more mail. Letters provide comfort and reassurance to soldiers serving

far from home.37

Franklin and Eli Blanchard follow the same formulas in their letters, yet retain

differences in spelling, punctuation, handwriting, and format. After examining the letters,

these differences suggest certain particulars about the brothers. To the modern scholar,

Franklin seems more uneducated than his younger brother Eli does. Eli formats his letters

36 Decker, Epistolary Practices, 57-59.

37 Letter from Franklin Blanchard to his mother, June 28, 1864; Andrew Carroll, ed., War Letters: Extraordinary Correspondence from American Wars (NY: Washington Square Press, 2002), 35.

more often than Franklin does. He often indents the beginning of his paragraphs, he spells

more accurately, and he sometimes incorporates periods at the end of his sentences. One

would conclude, based on grammar alone, that Eli was more literate than his older

brother Franklin was. During the nineteenth century, schools taught their pupils how to

write letters properly. As stated in his letters, Eli attended school in Ypsilanti before

joining the Union army. Franklin may have attended school, but there is no mention of it.

Students learned the proper use of abbreviations and the correct type of handwriting for

males or females. School instruction on letter writing also included spacing of salutations,

dates, subscriptions, closing statements, and signatures. This spacing is still considered

the correct form for modern letters.38

Based upon the content of their letters, it is safe to presume that Eli was outgoing

and animated while Franklin was shy and reserved. Eli often writes short, precise letters

to his parents. They are often full of recurring promises to send photographs or money to

them in his next letter. He also seems to be writing hurriedly; some letters state the

presence of the postmaster in camp and the necessity to finish the letter quickly in order

to send it off. Franklin’s letters are generally thoughtful and extensive, and he seems

genuinely concerned about regular and frequent communication. Both brothers are

grammatically incompetent, yet their places in society at that time may explain this.

Children from a Michigan farming family living in a small village in the nineteenth

century most likely were expected to help their parents on the farm or in the house, and when their parents allowed them to attend school, it would be during the winter. Within

38 Walker, “The Manners of the Page,” 315.

their community, however, the Blanchards were probably more educated than most of

their peers. They believed in a proper education, presumably because some of Worthy

Blanchard’s relatives were teachers. In fact, after the Civil War, John E. Blanchard

became a teacher in Folsom, California. In Eli’s letters, he often mentions the

contentment he feels for his sixteen-year-old brother, Asa L., attending school in

Ypsilanti for the winter. They acknowledge the hardship their parents would face with less help on the farm, but they also acknowledge the benefits Asa would receive by

attending the school in Ypsilanti rather than at their hometown’s school. Asa did in fact

benefit from attending school in Ypsilanti; he later attended medical school at Michigan

University and became a medical doctor.39

There is a great deal of teasing and light-heartedness expressed within the

Blanchard brothers’ letters. The brothers rarely wrote pessimistically. They often

expressed how proud they felt to serve their country. They also mentioned how

Confederate soldiers recognized and feared their brigade. Scholars have noticed that

letters written by soldiers serving in the Civil War, World War I, and World War II are

generally full of optimism, confidence, and convey a genuine faith in America, while

soldiers serving in the Korean and Vietnam Wars expressed in their letters confusion and

skepticism. The Cold War Era and the national paranoia and suspicion it produced

undoubtedly contributed to this change. 40

39 Letter from Eli Blanchard to his parents, September 19, 1863; Obituary of Dr. Asa Lapham Blanchard, Northville Record, November 6, 1906.

40 Douglas Brinkley, Foreword to War Letters edited by Carroll, 24.

When analyzing historic letters, a researcher must take into account the

relationship between letter writer and recipient. Not only is there a difference in how a

person writes a letter, but also in what they choose to write about and how they explain

their experiences. For example, in most of their letters directed to their parents the

brothers lightheartedly describe the battles, their camp, and their experiences, and rarely

complain. In letters directed to their younger brothers, they excluded details about their

superiors or campmates, and instead chose to write about school, sports, and home. The

single letter to Marve is much gloomier. Marvin E. Lapham, or Marve, was a cousin from

their mother’s side. The brothers often informed their parents on Marve’s health and

whereabouts. Marve was, like the Blanchard brothers, a Union soldier who served in

Company K of the 24th Michigan regiment. The letter directed to Marve, who returned to

Michigan on sick furlough, mentions how harsh camp life had been since his departure.

The tenor of this specific letter is much more cynical than the letters directed to their parents. There may be many reasons for this. Marve was nineteen, Eli eighteen, and

Franklin twenty years old when they joined the military. They had a very close relationship, but like many young men (especially soldiers) may have felt competitive towards each other. The letter, therefore, may have served as a transmission for boasting.

Marve understood soldier life, so he knew the realities of their situation; however, the letter explains to him how camp life worsened once he left. Understating current circumstances may have been a customary practice when writing to sick acquaintances

during the nineteenth century; instruction from American schools trained pupils to

apologize and to appear humble when writing letters.41

Epistolary conventions in nineteenth century America evolved from centuries of

formal letter writing among western Europeans. American schools required study of the

art in grammar school, high school, and college, yet surviving letters from this period

vary in form. Most formal conventions practically vanished by the turn of the twentieth

century, yet proper date, opening address, closing, and signature spacing conventions

remain standardized today. Civil War-era letters have potential to provide information

about epistolary practices that letter writers adhered to or abandoned during this transitional period.42

Historiography of Editing and Transcribing Historical Documents

Before transcribing a collection of historic letters, an editor should examine and

assess the methods used throughout time by previous editors of similar collections.

Historiographical analysis can provide one with a greater understanding of why editors

applied certain methods by correlating them with broader contemporaneous historical

trends. Contemporaneous peer book reviews are a useful tool when researching this

subject because they can provide a glimpse of how scholars analyzed the standard

methods of their time. By studying these book reviews of the subject and comparing them

against changes in historical theory, one can observe how historical trends have

41 Letter from Franklin Blanchard to Marve Lapham, December 26, 1862; Decker, Epistolary Practices, 18-20.

42 Walker, “Manners of the Page,” 307-311.

influenced editors and reviewers alike. This section covers the theoretical approaches

used by historical editors from the mid-nineteenth century to the present day. It also provides a brief historiography on the methods used by editors to transcribe historical documents throughout time, and attempts to clarify why these changes occurred.

The Enlightenment’s embrace of scientific reasoning had profound impacts on

how historians wrote about the past and what subjects they chose to discuss. During the

nineteenth century and into the early twentieth century, Western European and Euro-

American academics adopted the concept of Social Darwinism as a scientifically accurate

representation of the hierarchy of cultures and races. These scientists and scholars

categorized human societies into stratified hierarchies into which they defined Western

European culture as the “fittest” of all. Western European and Euro-American historians

also adopted this concept, and consequently glorified Euro-American political leaders,

diplomats, and scholars at the turn of the twentieth century.

At the same time, newspapers greatly influenced American society. Edwin Emery

and Henry Ladd Smith observed that journalists reflected on idealism and the betterment

of the ordinary citizen until the start of the Civil War in 1861 when they too became

casualties of a “postwar public cynicism” that swept over the nation. They argue that

once a nation with internal conflicts resorts to a civil war, ultimately that nation’s people

will grow disillusioned and bigoted. Americans in the nineteenth century not only

witnessed changes in their religious, scientific, and cultural perspectives; the Civil War

created a widespread focus on individualism and elitism rather than a focus on

community and the betterment of American society. 43

In America from the turn of the twentieth century to the end of the 1960s,

historians wrote histories using a scientific, objective approach, and focused primarily on

political leaders, individuals, and events significant to middle- and upper-class Euro-

Americans. Historians interested in personal manuscripts were interested in letters, diaries, and reports by war generals, the president, or famous authors and artists. They liberally transcribed papers and correspondences and did not adhere to any formal standards for documentary editing. Historians interested in soldier life included Union army veterans of the Civil War, and a few went on to publish their experiences via histories of their regiments. These histories glorify the author’s regiment and nostalgically describe the regiment’s role in major battles. 44

Professional standardization of documentary editing did not occur until the 1930s.

Around this time, the discipline of history witnessed a surge of interest in editing collections of colonial period letters. Grant C. Knight expresses in his 1929 review of E.

P. Chase’s book, Our Revolutionary Forefathers: The Letters of François, Marquis de

Barbé-Marbois, 1779-1785, that although the letters included in his book do not focus on

the politics of the time, they provide the reader with a glimpse of how colonial life really

was. The importance of historical figures’ letters and papers sparked such an interest that

the topic gained federal recognition. In 1934, through the National Archives Act,

43 Edwin Emery and Henry Ladd Smith, The Press and America (New York: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1954), 285-286.

44 Ibid.

Congress created the National Historic Publications Commission (NHPC). The goals of this commission were vague and World War II restrained the development of this agency; however, when the Federal Records Act passed in 1950, it received an official staff to be in charge of carrying out particular duties regarding documentary publications.45

Along with the new fascination for editing colonial letters, two types of editing methods developed in the 1930s: historical editing and literary editing. Historical editors wanted to capture the subject of the text in a comprehensive form. These historians liberally edited the original text. Literary editors, on the other hand, focused on the manner in which the author wrote the text. Literary editors included in their documents editorial codes and symbols that expressed what the original document contained, such as arrows signifying inserted text. By including every detail from the original text, literary editors believed their transcriptions were more accurate in conveying the author’s thought process. This method, the genetic text transcription method, peaked in popularity during the 1950s until the late 1960s and represented a focus on how and why the author wrote their letters rather than what the author wrote about.46

This change in methodology coincided with a national movement that took place in the 1960s. During this time, America witnessed a social revolution and subsequent reformation. Americans were unsatisfied with their nation’s treatment of women and

45 Grant C. Knight, Review of Our Revolutionary Forefathers: the Letters of François, Marquis de Barbé-Marbois, 1779-1785 edited by E.P.Chase, American Literature vol.1, Issue 3 (November, 1929), 342-343; Mary-Jo Kline and Susan Holbrook Perdue, A Guide to Documentary Editing, 3rd ed. (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2008), 6.

46 Joel Myerson, “Colonial and Nineteenth-Century American Literature,” in Scholarly Editing: A Guide to Research edited by D. C. Geetham (New York: Modern Language Association of America, 1995), 351-353.

minorities, along with the general disregard for the natural environment. The political

upheavals of the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War stimulated the public to

question authority’s motives and agendas, and to reassess the control they had on society.

Americans were concerned about how scholars had portrayed their history and were

ready for a change.

Historians in the 1960s began studying the lives of everyday people to reveal how

historical events affected the general public. Social history, a historical approach that was

a product of this time period, focused on the materialistic conditions that shaped people in a society. Social historians used a scientific approach based on quantitative analysis and comparative research about structural systems within societies. The goals of social historians were to reveal how ordinary people viewed the past, and give these groups of people a voice when preceding historians had either disregarded or rarely mentioned them.

Scholars from all different backgrounds were now re-evaluating the presentation of their histories and concentrated on portraying them through the eyes of those who lived it. Joyce Appleby, Lynn Hunt, and Margaret Jacob note that the GI Bill allowed for people of different ethnicities and backgrounds to attend college during the 1960s.

Someone who came from a poor, uneducated family could serve in the military and the military would in turn provide them with a college education. With so many different philosophies on life, historical approaches were destined to change. Appleby et al state,

“These scholars approached the Enlightenment orthodoxy with the skepticism all outsiders feel for the ideology of the insiders.” They had personal incentives for

recovering the ethnic memory of their families from an authentic, different point of view.

Elitist perspectives had taken over the presentation of American history, and during this

time period, a strong effort to embrace ethnic and lower class histories ensued. 47

In their research, social historians consulted different source materials such as

birth records, census reports, diaries, letters, and primary documents pertaining to the

average person. In Robert L. Brubaker’s 1967 article, “The Publication of Historical

Sources: Recent Projects in the United States,” he examines this change, particularly the

trend towards editing collections of letters. Brubaker provides a comparison between

earlier and contemporaneous editions, and claims the latter are more comprehensive,

more accurate, and more informative than the former. He suggests that, at the time of his

article, one of the reasons the current editions retained these qualities was because there

was much more funding support than ever before, partly as a result of the public’s

increasing interest in the subject. He also argues that nineteenth century editors were too

liberal and failed to consult essential primary sources.48

Brubaker was not the only scholar from the late 1960s who believed that editors

during the nineteenth century were unsuccessful in their attempt of editing letter

collections. In Haskell Monroe’s 1969 article, “Thoughts for an Aspiring Historical

Editor,” he argues that Jared Sparks took so many liberties in reworking his edition of

letters, The Writings of George Washington, that the original meaning of Washington’s

47 Joyce Appleby, Lynn Hunt, and Margaret Jacobs, Telling the Truth about History (New York: W.W. Norton and Co., 1994), 147.

48 Robert L. Brubaker, “The Publication of Historical Sources: Recent Projects in the United States,” The Library Quarterly vol. 37, no. 2 (April 1967).

letters was lost. Both Brubaker and Haskell agree that Julian Boyd’s Papers of Thomas

Jefferson was revolutionary in the field of historical documentary editing. Not only did

Boyd use multiple sources for his work, he also provided technical details about the

original documents and footnotes for contextual information. His book sparked President

Truman’s interest, who in turn directed the National Historical Publications Commission

to provide funding for similar projects.49

Editors continued to focus on elite individuals’ papers and letters, but at a higher

rate than ever before and with Boyd’s innovative transcription as their template. The New

York Times, the Time-Life Corporation, and the Ford and Rockefeller Foundations were

some of the sponsors behind these projects. Most historians in the late 1960s and well

into the 1970s gave credit to Boyd for making these projects possible. Some historians,

however, criticized Boyd for his abundant use of annotations and editorial comments. In

particular, in his 1978 article, “The Editing of Historical Documents,” G. Thomas

Tanselle criticized Boyd’s abundant use of annotations and charged him with creating an

inaccurate version of the text. He suggested that historical editors should create edited

versions similar to those produced by literary editors.50

During the 1960s, the Modern Language Association (MLA) created the Center

for Editions of American Authors (CEAA), which in turn stimulated the federal

49 Haskell Monroe, “Thoughts for an Aspiring Historical Editor,” The American Archivist vol. 32, no. 2 (April 1969); Jared Sparks, The Writings of George Washington Vols. 1-12 (Boston: Russell, Odiorne, and Metcalf, 1834-1837); Julian P. Boyd, Papers of Thomas Jefferson Vol. 1 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1950).

50 Kline and Perdue, A Guide to Documentary Editing, 3rd ed., 7; G. Thomas Tanselle, “The Editing of Historical Documents,” Studies in Bibliography 31 (1978): 1-56; Gordon S. Wood, “Review Essay: Historians and Documentary Editing,” The Journal of American History vol. 67, no. 4 (March 1981): 873-874.

36 government to form an agency that could provide grants for these projects, the National

Endowment for the Humanities (NEH). In 1967, the CEAA published a set of standards that literary editors were required to follow in order to receive their endorsement and funding. Tanselle was an adamant follower of these standards in the 1970s. The CEAA acted for literary editors as the NHPC acted for historical editors. These two types of editors used different approaches. Literary editors were inclined to use the genetic text transcription method and generally ignored sources not written by the author, assuming their audience would only be concerned with the author’s thoughts and how their writing developed. Historical editors, on the contrary, believed their audience was concerned with historical context and how societal pressures may have influenced the author’s method of writing.51

As stated before, the genetic text transcription promoted by literary editors gained support through the 1950s and became the primary editing method by the late 1960s. At the end of the 1960s, many reviewers criticized the genetic text transcription method for its propensity to create an unreadable edition of the author’s intended text. Specifically,

Lewis Mumford’s review, “Emerson behind Barbed Wire,” charged the editors of The

Journals and Miscellaneous Notebooks of Ralph Waldo Emerson with creating a text that is impractical for non-academic readers. The preponderance of technical functions and symbols created a nonsensical edition that even scholars had trouble decoding. In this review, Mumford blatantly disapproves of the standards approved by the CEAA just a year before. By attempting to apply scientific methods to editing historical literary

51 Kline and Perdue, A Guide to Documentary Editing, 3rd ed., 12.

documents, Mumford argues, the editor dehumanizes their subject and removes the

integrity from their work. This created a stir among historical documentary editors. After

The New York Review of Books published Mumford’s review in 1968, standard editorial

practice shifted from the genetic text transcription method back to the clear text method,

which excludes editorial symbols that denote the author’s literary revisions and consists

of a readable text with an editorial apparatus of transcription notes as a conclusion. The

clear text method remains the primary transcription method among historical document

editors to this day.52

After Mumford’s harsh review on literary editor methodology, historians also

began questioning the methods used by historical documentary editors during the 1970s.

One obvious problem was the NHPC’s propensity to select and endorse projects only

concerned with elite men. After heavy criticism, the NHPC promoted research on

organizations, lesser-known historical figures, minorities, and women. They appointed an

Advisory Commission on Women’s Papers in 1974. In 1975, the NHPC officially

changed its name to the National Historical Publications and Records Commission

(NHPRC) after it expanded to include preserving and making available to researchers

collections of archival records. In 1976, the MLA formed the Committee for Scholarly

Editing (CSE) which succeeded the CEAA.53

52 Lewis Mumford, “Emerson behind Barbed Wire,” The New York Review of Books (Jan. 18, 1968); Gilman et al., The Journals and Miscellaneous Notebooks of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Volumes 1-6 (Harvard: Belknap Press, 1966); Myerson, “Colonial and Nineteenth-Century American Literature,” 351- 353; Kline and Perdue, A Guide to Documentary Editing, 3rd ed., 15.

53 Mary A. Giunta, “The NHPRC: It’s Influence on Documentary Editing, 1964-1984,” The American Archivist vol. 49, no. 2 (Spring 1986): 136.

By the end of the 1970s, many historians felt that the fields of literary and historical editing required reorganization and unification. In 1978, the University of

Kansas held a conference sponsored by both the NEH and the NHPRC where practitioners of literary and historical editorial methods could participate in debates and lectures. A few weeks later, concerned editors from both parties formed the Association for Documentary Editing (ADE). This reformation coincided with a new change in historical theory. Historians in the late 1970s and through the 1990s were concerned about the use of scientific method in the discipline of history. Postmodernism affected academia during this time, and many postmodernist scholars questioned the validity of scientific reasoning within their field. In the discipline of history, scholars began consulting new and intriguing sources to interpret history. This new generation of historians revealed historical diaries, letters, court records, and personal documents of the everyday person, which previous historians ignored.54

Beginning in the 1970s and peaking in the late 1980s and 1990s, historians adopted a historical approach called microhistory, which denied the validity of analyzing history with cliometrics and offered a more inclusive assessment of past societies.

Rejecting the dominant social scientific paradigms of their day, microhistorians criticized their peers’ approach of structuring society into universalized macrosystems. Such an approach to the past, they argued, was too limiting and overlooked what was really important: namely, the symbolic meaning inscribed in the behaviors and discourses of society. Microhistorians intended to test the validity of prevailing historical methods by

54 Kline and Perdue, A Guide to Documentary Editing, 3rd ed., 20.

providing individual stories – particularly those stories from outliers in society. Within

the following decade, historians witnessed a turn from social scientific history toward

culture, interpretation, and narrative. They questioned the authority of social history,

which centered on quantitative studies and material life of society as a whole. One of the

main arguments microhistorians had against social historians was that the everyday lives

of marginalized individuals may not always fit within the universal structures social

historians place on them. Interpretation can vary among individuals living in the same

society or sharing the same culture. Structuring people into categories eliminates the

notion that individuals may have acted differently or even radically. Microhistorians set

out to illustrate that individual free will exists and sometimes challenges the norms of

their society’s race, gender, or class. In his article “On Microhistory,” Giovanni Levi

provides an excellent description of microhistorians as “not simply concerned with the

interpretation of meanings but rather with defining the ambiguities of the symbolic world,

the plurality of possible interpretations of it and the struggle which takes place over

symbolic as much as over material resources.”55

A Midwife’s Tale: The Life of Martha Ballard Based on Her Diary, 1785-1812 by

Laurel Thatcher Ulrich is a microhistory that focuses on the personal experiences of a colonial midwife. Ulrich’s examination of Martha Ballard, a midwife living in Hallowell,

Maine during the turn of the nineteenth century, is an excellent example of how one person’s life story can alter historical perceptions of the past. Though it is not in the form of correspondences, the editor’s exploitation of the diary is an excellent example of how

55 Giovanni Levi, “On Microhistory” in New Perspectives on Historical Writing, edited by Peter Burke (PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2001): 99.

historians began using other sources of information to provide further details about a

society’s history. Martha Ballard’s diary is exceptional; midwives during her time rarely

left a written record of their experiences. By examining Ballard’s diary, Ulrich is able to

produce an elaborate overview of gender roles, social norms, daily tasks, women’s job

opportunities, and female-male relationships during the post-Revolutionary era of the

United States. Ulrich has extracted the complexity of Anglo-American settler life from

Ballard’s diary including their discourse and behaviors on cultural incidents like rape,

childbirth, adultery, and medical practices. Ballard’s diary also reports that women in her

community generated their own type of economy, trading and bartering textiles and

produce within their social group.56

Previous historians ignored this diary as a source, claiming it was insignificant to

American history because Ballard makes no mention of politics. Ulrich’s microhistory,

however, critically examines the documentation of Ballard’s personal life experience to

expound upon the society in which she lived. Historians have since praised Ulrich for her

efforts in taking a source previously considered by historians as inconsequential and

using it as the foundation for her analysis of colonial society in America.57

Like Ulrich, many historians in the 1980s started focusing on common individuals

of society. These historians created new histories of the individual’s society based on

56 Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, A Midwife’s Tale: The Life of Martha Ballard, Based on Her Diary, 1785-1812 (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1990).

57 Judy Barrett Litoff, “Review of A Midwife’s Tale: The Life of Martha Ballard, Based on Her Diary, 1785-1812 by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich,” The American Historical Review vol. 96, no. 3 (June 1991): 950-951; Deborah D. Rogers, “Review of A Midwife’s Tale: The Life of Martha Ballard, Based on Her Diary, 1785-1812 by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich,” Eighteenth-Century Studies vol. 26, no. 1 (August 1992): 179-182.

41 their journals, court documents, diaries, and letters that usually contradicted past interpretations of the same society. Historical editors had previously edited papers from elite individuals, but were now switching to incorporate the letters and papers of organizations and common individuals into their repertoire. As stated before, the NHPRC encouraged editors to focus on common individuals after they came under attack in the

1970s.

Responding to Tanselle’s 1978 article that encouraged historians to produce as literal a transcription as possible, Gordon S. Wood in his 1980 article, “Review Essay:

Historians and Documentary Editing,” explains that historians are interested in extracting significance from multiple sources rather than just the writing of one specific author. He argues that historical and literary editors do not share a common goal, so producing a literal transcription is an irrelevant task for historical editors. After Arthur Link called for a manual for documentary editors in his 1979 ADE presidential address, Mary-Jo Kline produced A Guide to Documentary Editing. She published three editions since, and it remains the primary manual that editors consult for current theory and advice on good editorial practice. Even though this manual seemed to be the solution for joining the two types of editing, historical editors and literary editors resumed editing historical documents using the same approaches as they had previously used. Historical editors during this time concerned themselves more with forming an appropriate method for text selection, adequately indexing their editions, and figuring out how to appropriately utilize

42 the many tools created through technological advances that were occurring at an alarming rate.58

Since the late 1980s, technological advances have changed the way historians edit documentary materials. It is now much faster to create a digital image than it is to transcribe a letter. Computers can now identify words from a scanned image and transfer them to a word document. Though this technique seems useful, editors should never trust their computer’s judgment as fact. Currently, it is more work to change a computer- generated transcription than it is to manually type out the transcription. Software is developing so rapidly it is inevitable that computer-generated transcription will become more accurate. Software programs have made it faster and easier for historians to enter the specifics of their records into databases and transcribe their documents into word processing documents. The internet provides historians access to museum and library collections, historical and genealogical organization pages, professional article databases, and government public record pages. It also enables historians to reach a broader audience and to possibly connect with their subject’s family.59

Kline and Perdue argue that it is critical for historical documentary editors to follow the standards and state their sources and methods when posting on the internet.

The ADE’s Committee on Scholarly Editions created standards for electronic

58 Wood, “Review Essay: Historians and Documentary Editing,” 874; Mary-Jo Kline, A Guide to Documentary Editing (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 1979); Michael E. Stevens and Steven B. Burg, Editing Historical Documents: A Handbook of Practice (Walnut Creek: AltaMira Press, 1997), 12.

59 Brent M. Rogers, “The Historical Community and the Digital Future,” (paper presented at the James A. Rawley Graduate Conference in the Humanities, University of Nebraska at Lincoln, 2008), 2-10, http://digitalcommons.unl.edu/historyrawleyconference/26 (accessed 2008).

43 documentary editions, and these standards generally follow the professionally accepted standards of historical documentary editors. According to this committee, an editor must meticulously analyze the text, they must provide a statement of their methods, and they must provide explanatory annotations when preparing an electronic documentary edition.60

Along with taking advantage of all the technological advances, historians are now using a wider variety of sources to support their research than ever before. They refer to folklore, oral histories, and religious myths, and they identify their informants as primary sources. There is not only an interest in the subject matter of letters, diaries, and oral histories, but also a discourse analysis of their linguistic conventions and how their cultural influences and collective memory affected their writing. Historical editors focused on presenting the whole truth based on scientific reasoning, yet this goal was evidently futile because every historical analysis is undeniably the author’s interpretation of the past. Currently, historical documentary editors accept and embrace this fact. They believe that providing a methods statement at the beginning of their edition will suffice.

The methods and theory governing historical documentary editing have changed throughout time, and will undeniably continue to change in generations to come.

60 Kline and Perdue, A Guide to Documentary Editing, 3rd ed., 29.

Chapter 3

METHODS

Processing and Digitizing the Collection

The Blanchard Civil War letters are part of a larger collection gifted by Elma P.

Atchison of Sacramento, California to the California Department of Parks and

Recreation’s Museum Resource Center (SMRC) in the 1960s. Along with the Blanchard brothers’ Civil War letters chosen for this thesis project, the collection consists of letters from Asa L. Blanchard to his parents from school in Ypsilanti, Michigan, letters between

Franklin Blanchard and his relatives during the 1870s and 1880s, and letters between

Mrs. Atchison’s mother, Annie Crooks Johnson, and her sisters from the 1890s and

1900s. The Atchison collection also contains artifacts and miscellaneous ephemera from the 1920s and 1930s, mainly kept for future use as museum exhibit and set props. The collection of Civil War letters consists of several corresponding envelopes, but I chose to omit them for this project. Though they provide information about sender and recipients, participating post offices, shipping date, and postage details, they are irrelevant to the goals of this project.

Former SMRC employees have catalogued only a portion of the Atchison collection since the State of California obtained rightful ownership. In the 1960s, a volunteer at the SMRC initiated a numbering system for the Blanchard brothers’ Civil

War letters. This system divided the letters into categories based on whether the letters had envelopes or not. The volunteer assigned object numbers to lone letters according to whether they had corresponding envelopes or not. The object numbers are located in the

bottom right hand corner, written in either pencil or pen. The volunteer who initiated the

numbering system failed to complete the task of assigning object numbers to all of the

letters. This volunteer used unprofessional methods to process the collection that not only were damaging to the records but unaccommodating for future researchers.

There are many different methods for professionally sorting documents. A

common method for sorting historical document collections is by subject. Topical sorting

allows researchers to efficiently obtain information on the writer’s specific works. It is

best for a cataloguer to topically sort collections of famous authors or politicians. These

individuals would generally work on a specific document for a long period of time, and

frequently had projects that would overlap. Therefore, cataloguers do not recommend

sorting these types of collections chronologically. Chronological arrangement is much

more practical for sorting a collection of letters. This method allows the researcher to access the collection in its original order of creation and provides a comprehensive account of the subject in its entirety. By examining the letters chronologically, a researcher can observe the author’s thought process over time and place.61

In 2011, SMRC student assistants Emily Conrado, Claire Tynan, Alex

Schoenfelder-Lopez, and myself removed the Blanchard brother’s Civil War letters from

the cardboard box in which Mrs. Atchison donated them. Cardboard is highly acidic and

therefore very destructive to archival documents. The condition of the letters was

remarkably good considering the amount of time they spent housed in cardboard. We

found them folded in their envelopes and very tightly packed against each other, which

61 Kline, A Guide to Documentary Editing, 74-77.

was most likely the reason they hardly suffered any detrimental effects. After removing the letters from the cardboard box, we unfolded them and examined them for any damage. At this time, we were able to skim over the letters and assess their significance.

The SMRC’s mission statement indicates that they retain collections significant to

California’s state parks. As a Department of Parks and Recreation (DPR) repository, they house collections that are either directly associated with state parks or that may have artifacts with the potential for use as props within a state park or museum. To prepare for relocation to a new facility, the SMRC hired student assistants to assess, repack, and prepare for transportation current collections housed at the DPR warehouses in West

Sacramento. Student assistants evaluated each artifact or document for its integrity and significance to California state parks. Artifacts showing extensive mold or decay, artifacts lacking historical integrity, and most artifacts unassociated with any state park were placed in boxes and recommended for deaccession. The Blanchard family lived in

Michigan during the Civil War; however, Franklin moved to Folsom, California in the

1870s to mine for granite. Although the letters hold no significance to any state park, we

concluded along with state curators that they are invaluable resources and well worth

preserving.

After unfolding the letters and assessing their significance, we placed them and

their corresponding envelopes individually into archival quality sleeves for protection.

We also placed the orphan envelopes in their own sleeves. We then filed the sleeved

letters into acid-free folders. The 1960s volunteer had originally created a sorting system

for the collection, so we placed the letters into folders according to this system. Because

47 of time and money constraints at the time, we were unable to sort them otherwise. The folder names are as follows: letters with envelopes and no object numbers, letters without envelopes and no object numbers, letters with envelopes and object numbers, letters without envelopes and with object numbers, envelopes with object numbers, envelopes without object numbers, and letters from others. We placed the folders into archival quality flip-top boxes. We assigned a catalogue number to the collection of Civil War-era

Blanchard family letters and placed the flip-top boxes in a larger box that contained other archival documents. We gave the box a tracking number and entered this information into the DPR’s online database, The Museum System.

The Museum System is a tool used by DPR employees to track individual catalogued artifacts. Once an artifact acquires a catalogue number, a DPR employee enters its information into The Museum System database. The description, photograph, donor, catalogue number, related objects, and location are just a few of the fields used to describe each artifact. An employee can enter a query into any of these fields when searching for a specific artifact. Because the database is online, an employee is not required to drive to West Sacramento and browse through finding aids or catalogue records in order to locate a specific artifact. Each artifact or document is located in a box with a tracking number. SMRC employees track this number to the exact location within the four warehouse storage units. Once someone finds a specific artifact in the database, a

SMRC employee can find where the numbered box is located and pull it out of storage.

This system is an efficient tool for researchers and employees alike.

Once we gave them a collective catalogue number, I began the tedious task of

scanning and digitizing every letter individually. Wil Jorae of the DPR Photographic

Archives graciously allowed me to use the high-quality Epson Expression 10000 XL

color scanner located in their office and even provided a printout of some helpful Adobe

Photoshop tips relevant to my project. I carefully removed each letter from its sleeve and

scanned both sides. The images are saved as tiffs at 300 dpi at 100 percent in order to

produce high quality close-up images as per Jorae’s recommendation. Each side of a

letter was individually scanned and saved. Each scanned image was given the same

tagging formula: year, underscore, month, underscore, day, underscore, the first initial of

the author’s given name, underscore, and side of letter. So, for example, a double-sided one-page letter from Eli Blanchard dated April 30, 1864 became two scanned tiff images called 1864_04_30_E_side1.tiff and 1864_04_30_E_side2.tiff.

If the 1960s volunteer who originally went through the letters gave a temporary number to a letter, this number is included at the very end. This same letter had the temporary number C25, so the scanned image became 1864_04_30_E_side1_C25.tiff and

1864_04_30_E_side2_C25.tiff. Using Adobe Photoshop, I repositioned and cropped each letter sparingly to rid any residual border. A few letters, however, contained original tears which were unavoidable. During the scanning process, there was no attempt to fill in or crop out the tear in these instances. After opening the images on my home computer, I realized that it may have been a better idea to leave a slight border around the entire document. The brothers sometimes wrote to the very edge of their paper in order to save

space. While cropping and saving the images, some words were cropped accidently as

well. Along with repositioning, rotating, and cropping the image, I used Adobe

Photoshop to reveal the writing on a few of the letters. The scanned images of these letters were indiscernible without this modification. Table 1 through 8 are recreations of a list created while scanning the original documents. It is a comprehensive inventory used to keep track of the letters scanned, the letters modified, and the date, place, and author of

each letter.

After scanning each letter, it went back in its sleeve and back in its place in the

folder from which it came. Though arranging these types of collections chronologically is

much more conducive for future researchers, I left the letters in the order in which we

found them. It is more helpful to provide researchers an arrangement from which they

can extract information based on date rather than an arbitrary arrangement based on

whether the letter had a corresponding envelope or not; however, the inventory list

created provides all the date and place information for the letters. I excluded envelopes

from the scanning process, but used them along with calendars when speculating dates

not included in the letters.

Table 1. Inventory list of scanned letters, no envelopes, with object numbers.

Letters: No Envelopes With Object Numbers Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change May 26, Eli  Falmouth, VA C75 - 1863 Eli and Oct. 16,  C42  Franklin 1863 May 28, Franklin  Falmouth, VA C56  1863 Feb. 28, Franklin  C72  1863

Dec. 13, Franklin  Petersburg, VA C67 - 1864 Sep. 28, Div. Hospital near Weldon Franklin  C57 - 1864 R.R., VA Franklin  Sep. 1, 1863 Convalescent Camp, VA C70 - 1st Div. Hospital, Eli  Jul. 5, 1863 C71 - Gettysburg, PA Aug. 10, Eli  Camp near Petersburg, VA L80 - 1864 Franklin  Dec. 1, 1862 L77 - Oct. 12, Camp Hart near Franklin  L78 - 1862 Sharpsburg, MD Franklin  Dec. 9, 1862 L90  Jul. 29, Satterlee U.S.A. General Franklin  L81 - 1863 Hospital, West Philadelphia Jan. 20, Franklin  Culpeper County, VA L84  1864 Eli and Mar. 30, Camp near Belle Plain  L86 - Franklin 1863 Landing, VA Jun. 20, Worthy  Farmington, MI L83 - 1865 Feb. 22, Camp Butler near Franklin  L96 - 1865 Springfield, IL Oct. 17, Behind breastworks at Eli  L86 - 1863 Centreville, VA May 17, Camp near Rappahannock Eli  L94  1863 River Feb. 19, Franklin  L100  1864 Eli  Dec. 9, 1862 Brook’s Station L79 - Feb. 14, Franklin  L92  1863 Eli  Jan. 9, 1862 L91  Mar. 16, Franklin  L101 - 1864 Jun. 28, Franklin  L102  1864 Eli  unknown L105 - May 29, Franklin  L103 - 1865 Franklin  Jan. 6, 1863 L98 - Oct. 16, Camp near Weldon R.R., Eli  L87 - 1864 VA

Eli  unknown C17 - Sep. 25, Camp near Weldon R.R., Eli  C54 - 1864 VA Jul. 19, Franklin  Camp near Petersburg, VA L93 - 1864 Feb. 28, Eli  Camp Meade, VA C49 1864 Feb. 22, Camp Butler near Eli  C51 1865 Springfield, IL Aug. 24, Camp near Weldon R.R., Eli  L88 1864 VA

Table 2. Inventory list of scanned letters, no envelopes, without object numbers, folder 1.

Letters: No Envelopes Without Object Numbers (Folder 1) Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change Franklin  Sep. 1, 1862 - - Nov. 10, Franklin  1862 May 17, Franklin  Camp near Falmouth, VA 1863 Sep. 10, Franklin  Camp Clear - - 1862 Dec. 12, Franklin  - - 1863 Franklin  Jan. 26, 1865 -  Eli and Apr. 20, Camp near Belle  - - Franklin 1863 Plain, VA Franklin  Apr. 7, 1864 - - Apr. 29, Franklin  - - 1864 Mar. 19, Eli  - - 1864 Headquarters, Eli  Sep. 3, 1862 - - Ft. Lyons, VA Aug. 22, Franklin  Near City Point, VA - - 1864 Apr. 24, Camp Butler near Franklin  - - 1865 Springfield, IL Franklin  Feb. 5, 1864 Culpeper County, VA - 

Sep. 25, Franklin  Just departed Camp Peck - - 1863 Dec. 26, Franklin  Belle Plain, VA - - 1862 Eli  Oct. 2, 1863 Camp O’Donnell, VA - - Feb. 26, Camp Butler near Eli  - - 1865 Springfield, IL Feb. 11, Franklin  - - 1864 Franklin  Jul. 2, 1863 - - Franklin  Aug. 4, 1864 Near Petersburg, VA - - May 30, Within 15 miles of Franklin  - - 1864 Richmond Franklin  May 2, 1863 - - Aug. 25, Franklin  - - 1863 Franklin and  Sep. 4, 1862 Ft. Lyon - - Eli Franklin  Apr. 1, 1864 - - Sep. 27, Franklin  - - 1862 May 11, Franklin  - - 1863 Eli  Feb. 2, 1864 Camp Meade, VA - - Apr. 26, Camp near Belle Plain’s Franklin  - - 1863 Landing, VA Feb. 23, Camp near Belle Plain’s Franklin  - - 1863 Landing, VA Franklin  May 2, 1864 City Point, VA - - Mar. 25, Eli  Camp near Belle Plain - - 1863 Eli  unknown “Battle Cry of Freedom” - -

Table 3. Inventory list of scanned letters, no envelopes, without object numbers, folder 2.

Letters: No Envelopes Without Object Numbers (Folder 2) Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change Eli and Sep. 8, 1863 - -  Franklin Franklin  Jan. 30, Culpeper County, VA - -

1864 Franklin Dec. 28, - -  1863 Franklin  Jun. 4, 1864 - - Eli Mar. 5, 1865 Camp Butler near - -  Springfield, IL

Table 4. Inventory list of scanned letters, with envelopes, with object numbers, folder 1.

Letters: With Envelopes With Object Numbers (Folder 1) Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change Apr. 19, Franklin  C30 - 1864 Franklin  Jan. 1, 1864 C66 - May 20, Eli  C65 - 1864 Headquarters 24th Mich. Eli  Jan. 2, 1865 C32a - Vol. Headquarters 24th Mich. Eli  Jan. 9, 1865 C32b - Vol.

Table 5. Inventory list of scanned letters with envelopes, with object numbers, folder 2.

Letters: With Envelopes With Object Numbers (Folder 2) Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change Eli Mar. 27, Camp near Belle Plain’s C17 -  1863 Landing, VA Franklin Aug. 7, West Philadelphia Hospital C52 -  1863 Franklin Oct. 20, Camp near Weldon R.R., C13 -  1864 VA Eli Nov. 22, Camp near Beverly Ford, C62 -  1863 VA Eli  Jun. 6, 1864 Near Coal Harbor, VA C21 - Franklin Nov. 23, C26 -  1863 Franklin Feb. 23, C74 -  1864

Franklin Apr. 16, Camp near Belle Plain’s C61 -  1863 Landing, VA Franklin Jun. 29, City Point, VA C14 -  1864 Franklin  Jan. 8, 1863 C43 - Eli Jan. 31, Camp near Belle Plain’s C69 -  1863 Landing, VA Eli Nov. 9, Camp near Brook’s Station C45 -  1862 Eli Jul. 24, 1st Div. Hospital, C53 -  1863 Gettysburg, PA Eli Apr. 30, Camp Meade, VA C25 -  1864 Eli Feb. 17, Camp near Belle Plain’s C18 -  1863 Landing, VA Franklin Mar. 27, Camp Butler C28 -  1865 Franklin Jun. 23, In breastworks near C34 -  1864 Petersburg, VA Franklin Nov. 17, C22 -  1863 Eli Dec. 25, Headquarters, 24th Mich. C33 -  1864 Franklin Oct. 25, Camp near Cristo Station C29 -  1863 Franklin Aug. 27, C55 -  1863 Eli Jan. 29, Headquarters, 24th Mich. C41  1865 near Jerusalem Plank Rd.,  VA Franklin Jan. 28, C44 -  1863 Eli Sep. 20, Camp Shearer near Ft. C47 -  1862 Baker, Washington DC Franklin Nov. 13, 6 miles from Washington C46   1862 DC Franklin  Jun. 8, 1864 C33 - Eli and Nov. 4, C35 -  Franklin 1862

Table 6. Inventory list of scanned letters, with envelopes, with object numbers, folder 3.

Letters: With Envelopes With Object Numbers (Folder 3) Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change Franklin  Feb. 6, 1863 C48 - Dec. 29, Franklin  Camp near Belle Plain, VA C63 - 1862 Jun. 26, 4th Div. Hospital near Eli  C19 - 1864 Petersburg, VA Apr. 15, Eli  Camp Meade, VA C31 - 1864 Jul. 29, Franklin  Camp near Petersburg, VA C15 - 1864 May 31, Camp near PA Monkey Eli  C16 - 1864 River Sep. 13, Eli  Camp Merit, VA C20 - 1863 Jan. 14, Camp near Belle Plain’s Franklin  C73 - 1863 Landing Nov. 12, Franklin  C37 - 1863 Mar. 11, Eli  Camp Butler, IL C36 - 1865 Jun. 18, Franklin  Camp near Centreville, VA C50 - 1863 Mar. 22, Franklin  C39 - 1863 Nov. 22, Franklin  Near Weldon R.R., VA C76 - 1864 Dec. 4, Camp near Weldon R.R., Eli  C60 - 1864 VA Eli  Mar. 1864 “On to Richmond” C24 - Dec. 16, Camp near Fredericksburg, Eli  C68 - 1862 VA Dec. 20, Franklin  C58 - 1862 Headquarters 24th Mich. Jan. 22, Eli  Near Jerusalem Plank Rd., C64 - 1865 VA Feb. 16, Franklin  Baltimore, MD C27 - 1865

Camp near Catlett Station, Nov. 1, Eli  Prince Williams County, C59 - 1863 VA Mar. 5, Camp Butler near Franklin  C40 1865 Springfield, IL Sep. 10, Eli  C23 1862

Table 7. Inventory list of scanned letters with envelopes, no object numbers, folder 1.

Letters: With Envelopes Without Object Numbers (Folder 1) Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change Eli Oct. 11, Camp Harbaugh near - -  1862 Sharpsburg, MD Eli Sep. 29, Camp Shearer - -  1862 Eli Apr. 10, Camp near Belle Plain’s - -  1863 Landing Franklin Feb. 18, - -  1864 Eli Apr. 5, 1865 Camp Butler near - -  Springfield, IL Franklin Jun. 7, 1865 Camp Butler near - -  Springfield, IL Franklin  Nov. 8, 1862 - - Eli  Jan. 2, 1864 Camp near Culpeper, VA - - Franklin May 31, Camp near Falmouth, VA - -  1863 Eli Sep. 19, Camp near Culpeper, VA - -  1863 Eli Apr. 24, Camp Meade, VA - -  1864 Eli  Sep. 4, 1863 Camp Merit, VA - - Eli Oct. 29, Camp Hicks near - -  1862 Sharpsburg, MD Eli Nov. 14, Camp Nall near Fayetteville, - -  1862 VA Eli Unknown, Washington DC - -  half missing Franklin Mar. 24, - -  1864

Table 8. Inventory list of scanned letters with envelopes, no object numbers, folder 2.

Letters: With Envelopes Without Object Numbers (Folder 2) Scanned at Color Author Date Place Obj. # 100% Change Eli Jan. 10, Headquarters 24th Mich. -   1865 Near Jerusalem Rd., VA Franklin  Oct. 9, 1864 City Point, VA - - Eli Nov. 1, Camp near Weldon R.R., - -  1864 VA Franklin Feb. 28, - -  1864 Franklin  May 8, 1863 - - Eli Jan. 10, Camp near Belle Plain’s - -  1863 Landing, VA

Editing and Transcribing the Collection

Historical documentary editors have used Julian Boyd’s clear text method of editing since the publication of his first volume of Papers of Thomas Jefferson in 1950.

This method was groundbreaking at the time and editors still apply it persistently even though many historians, particularly literary editors, have criticized it. The clear text method of editing provides the reader with a readable text based on the original documents. There are generally many editorial annotations explaining the historical context and background information pertaining to the author’s subject. Originally, editors applying the clear text method would provide an editorial apparatus at the conclusion of their transcription. Since the NHPRC and CSE published standards on editing and Mary-

Jo Kline’s 1979 Guide to Documentary Editing hit the press, documentary editors have come to a professional consensus that an editor is obliged to state their methods and techniques at the beginning of their transcription. This section explains the editing and transcription methods used for this project.

Editing the Blanchard brothers’ Civil War letters was more rewarding yet more difficult than expected. Like most editors of historical letters, over the course of this project I developed a sincere affection for the letters’ authors. I acquired a sense of Eli and Franklin’s individual dispositions and grew fond of their similarities and differences.

By the end of the project, the distinctive handwriting and wording of both authors was recognizable. Usually, the letter’s subject matter was enough to reveal the author’s identification and their signatures at the end a validation.

The transcription process began with the notion that the best method to use would

be the expanded transcription method explained by Michael E. Stevens and Steven B.

Burg in chapter three of their 1997 publication, Editing Historical Documents: A

Handbook of Practice. Stevens and Burg state that there are five types of transcription

methods: photographic facsimile, typographical facsimile, diplomatic transcription, clear

text transcription, and expanded transcription. Photographic facsimile is a photocopy or

scanned image of an original document. The scanned images of the Blanchard brothers’

Civil War letters are photographic facsimiles. Typographical facsimiles are an editor’s

transcription that mimics the handwriting and physical arrangement of the original

document. Diplomatic transcription is the same as genetic text transcription, where

editors use symbols to indicate canceled text and other stylistic details. Clear text

transcription editors, Stevens and Burg argue, insert modern punctuation, spell out the

abbreviations, and fix spelling, creating a very liberal version of the original text.

Expanded transcription is wide-ranging and usually depends on how the editor wants to

present the document to their audience. The method used to transcribe the Blanchard

brothers’ letters falls between the clear text and expanded transcription categories.62

One of my goals for this project was to make the transcriptions user-friendly for those interested in the content. Some contemporary scholars believe that editors should transcribe historical letters verbatim. Practically every word in the Blanchard letters is included in the transcriptions unless it is illegible, in which case the fact is stated

62 Michael E. Stevens and Steven B. Burg, Editing Historical Documents: A Handbook of Practice (Walnut Creek: AltaMira Press, 1997).

italicized in brackets. The only instances where I excluded words in my transcriptions

were when it was obvious the author accidentally wrote it twice, usually occurring at the

start of a new line. For example, if at the end of one line the author began a sentence,

“The,” then continued the sentence on the next line, “The army marched onward,” I

transcribed it as “The army marched onward,” and excluded the extra word. Even though

it may denote a hurriedly written letter that the author did not proofread, I kept to my

original method in the interest of clear text readability. Words were only inserted in

brackets if deemed essential for clarification. Placement of datelines and signatures in the

transcriptions are similar to how they are located on the original document. If the author

centered their signature, I centered it in the transcription. I inserted a comma for all

closing statements such as “Goodbye” or “This from your loving son” before the

signature. I left most abbreviated words as they were unless it was too unclear; however,

I changed plus signs that Eli used in place of the word “and,” as well as any ampersands

Franklin used once in awhile, to the word “and.” For this project, I also inserted

punctuation and changed cases when necessary to clarify the letters. Most indentations

are as they were in the original documents, though some are not for the sake of clarity.

Eli often indented his paragraphs, but Franklin rarely did. Their spelling, especially in the first letters they wrote in 1862, is terrible. I corrected all spelling to current standards unless it was a name of a person I found no documentation on in my research. This may deduct from the unique, colloquial epistolary form of a 1860s farmer/soldier. Once in a while, the brothers would use an incorrect word or they would modify a word to make a point. These are retained in the transcriptions with the Blanchard’s original spelling. By

making these letters more legible, the transcriptions allow the reader to focus on the

charming language, manners, and experiences of these soldiers without having the

distressing task of deciphering their poorly written letters.

Each transcription I saved individually as a Microsoft Office Version 2007 word

document. The transcriptions were saved using a similar tagging formula as the scanned

images; however, the temporary number is before the given name of the brother who

wrote the letter. So our letter from Eli dated April 30, 1864 with the temporary number

C25 is saved as 1862_04_14 _C25_Eli.docx. Naming the transcriptions this way allows for easy computer-generated sorting into chronological arrangement. I chose to transcribe

the two songs written by Eli and included in the collection, “On to Richmond” and

“Battle Cry of Freedom.” They contribute to the story of these brothers and Eli most

likely sent them to their parents from the field. I also chose to transcribe their father

Worthy’s heartbreaking letter to Franklin warning him of Eli’s failing health. I am unsure

if this letter ever found Franklin; he was on his way home at the time Worthy sent it. It is

the only letter in the collection from Worthy directed to his sons when they were soldiers.

It is impossible to transcribe without editing the original primary document. An

editor cannot create an exact copy of an original letter, even by photocopying or scanning. Because I have created sentence structure with commas and periods, one may argue that the transcriptions are inaccurate representations of the originals. One may also argue that by doing so, I have removed the social status indicators and characteristic

traces pertinent to Civil War-era soldier life. I define transcription as an interpretation of

the primary document. The letters are the primary source; they provide invaluable

information such as the difference in the author’s handwriting over time, word placement,

formatting style, paper type, smudges, fingerprints, or evidence of the author’s haste in

writing which is common within soldier letters. The transcriptions are the secondary

source; they are an editor’s version of the original letter and in this case provide a

readable, subject-focused interpretation.

After transcribing the documents and saving them as word documents, I printed

them and compared them to the original letters. Even though I had access to the digital

images, I felt it necessary to evaluate them against the primary sources. The scanned

images are excellent copies of the original documents; however, scanners, no matter how

advanced, will sometimes fail to accurately depict the image. For example, some letters contain very light pencil writing that the scanner failed to pick up. Also, some letters have dark pen written on light paper. The scanner picked up the writing on the reverse side as well as the writing on the front side of these letters, making it very difficult to read the image. The images of these specific letters are to some extent indistinct representations of the originals.

Public history fosters the idea of providing the public access to many different mediums of historical knowledge. The goal of this project was to create a digital compilation that not only scholars but also interested individuals could easily access and understand. I am fully aware that original letters written from the battlefields of the Civil

War possess far more enchantment than their scanned images or their transcriptions; however, these letters are fragile leaves of paper, some written on with very faint and fading pencil. A controlled environment, proper storage, and restricted access will

63 facilitate preservation. Even then, the paper will eventually deteriorate. Digitizing and transcribing the Blanchard brothers’ Civil War letters has contributed to their preservation by providing access to researchers via scanned images, eliminating the potentially destructive step of pulling the originals from their boxes. Hopefully, researchers will refer to this thesis before accessing the originals. They may possibly acquire the information they seek from this thesis or from the scanned images retained at the SMRC.

Researching

The California State University, Sacramento (CSUS) Department of History’s

Public History program provided the skills necessary to professionally conduct scholarly, historical research. Research methods for this project included a genealogical investigation, a literature review, contacting and consulting multiple museums and libraries, scanning microfilm of historic newspapers for obituaries, public record searches, an analysis of the Atchison collection’s other letters, internet searches, and an attempt to contact friends and family members of the Blanchards. I achieved a great deal of knowledge about the Blanchards and the 24th Michigan Volunteer Infantry Regiment; however, time constraints, distance to certain resources, restricted access to certain records, and the unresponsiveness of potential contacts limited the data collected. I chose to end researching after a good faith effort because historical research has the potential to be infinitive.

The California Social Security Death Index (CSSDI), census records, newspaper

obituaries, biographical sketches, and tombstone engravings were wonderful resources

for genealogical information. I attempted to contact Blanchards living in El Dorado,

Sacramento, and Placer Counties, and also to a woman claiming to have other Civil War letters from the Blanchard family, but to no avail. The single response received was from

the daughter of J. E. Blanchard from San Francisco, who unfortunately had no known

relationship with the Blanchards from Michigan. Locals from Farmington, Michigan

created biographical sketches of the area’s families during the turn of the twentieth

century. I found information pertaining to Mary Lapham Blanchard’s family within these

sketches. Librarians and volunteers from the Farmington Community Library’s Heritage

Collection were very helpful and interested in this project, and graciously scanned and

emailed me copies of the sketches along with photographs, obituaries, and other records

pertaining to the Blanchard family. The El Dorado County History Museum provided

information about the Crooks and the Blanchards, and kindly assisted me in my research

on the connection between the two families. I also conducted genealogical research at the

CSUS library. After pinpointing Blanchard family member’s death dates through the

CSSDI, I located a few obituaries on microfilm of local Sacramento newspapers.

I conducted much of my research online. Many scholars shun this approach, yet

there is an increasing amount of valuable resources readily accessible online. Databases

from federal, state, or local governments, as well databases from universities, libraries, or

museums provide a more time and cost efficient way to conduct research. For those doing

research thousands of miles away from their subject or for those working full-time, this

approach is sometimes necessary. I am not endorsing the type of internet research

common among today’s youth; conducting searches in a web browser or a video sharing

network is insufficient and chancy for scholarly historical research. The most helpful

online databases used to conduct research are the University of California, Riverside’s

California Digital Newspaper Collection (CDNC) and the National Park Service’s Civil

War Soldiers and Sailors database.63

The CDNC was especially helpful. The CDNC is a collection of digitized

newspapers from major cities in California. Researchers can perform a keyword search

and the database provides a list of newspaper articles in which the keyword occurs. The

researcher can then obtain a scanned image of the newspaper article. The Soldier and

Sailor collection is a great resource for those interested in the Civil War. This database

transcribed enlistment papers from every Civil War soldier and sailor, both Union and

Confederate. A researcher can search for their subject by name, state, or regiment. This

was a valuable resource when transcribing the Blanchard brothers’ letters. I often

searched this database to verify the names, companies, and position of other soldiers

mentioned in the letters.

Finally, I must mention the many books and articles I used for my research on the

Civil War, the 24th Michigan regiment, the Iron Brigade, transcribing and editing

historical documents, and on the evolution of epistolary conventions. This project would be incomplete and inadequate if I failed to provide historical context. O. B. Curtis’

63 University of California, Riverside, “California Digital Newspaper Collection,” (Digital Library Consulting, 2008-2010) http://cdnc.ucr.edu (accessed December 2010); National Park Service, “Civil War Soldiers and Sailors,” http://www.itd.nps.gov/cwss/ (accessed February 2011).

History of the 24th Michigan of the Iron Brigade was especially helpful when researching

when and where the regiment marched. Curtis provides in his book maps and drawings

drawn by soldiers from the regiment. He was a soldier of the 24th Michigan regiment as

well, and this book serves as his autobiographical account of their regiment’s role in the

Civil War. For a complete list of periodicals, books, internet pages, professional articles,

museums, libraries, and other sources consulted for this project, please refer to the

bibliography.

The Blanchard brothers’ Civil War letters are a useful resource for researchers

and individuals interested in the Civil War soldier experience. They provide first-person accounts of wartime battles, camps, rations, and perspectives on the officers involved.

Not only do the letters provide a personal account of the major events that occurred, they also convey the epistolary practices used during the nineteenth century. The digitized copies allow researchers at the SMRC to access the letters without damaging the originals. They also allow for employees to use them in e-museums exhibits and access them via their network database. The transcriptions provide a cleaner, readable version of the original letters for interested readers. With the letters placed in chronological order

and annotated, the brothers’ story becomes clear.

APPENDIX

Transcriptions of the Blanchard Brothers’ Civil War Letters

Monday, September the first, 1862 Dear Mother, I now for the first time have a chance to write since I left Detroit. We all arrived safe in Washington at noon today. There was a good many seasick on our boat Friday night. I was some sick too. We arrived in Cleveland at seven yesterday morning. From Cleveland, we went Pittsburg, Pennsylvany. Arrived there, arrived Saturday, arrived seven p.m. Ate supper there. From Pittsburg, we went to Baltimore. Arrived there Sunday, four p.m. Took supper there and from Baltimore we come to Washington. It was a right to see the Allegheny Mount. As I am writing, people are coming in saying they can [see] the enemy’s guns at some place. Marve and Eli are well. I don’t know where we will go from here. We expect to move to some place in a day or two to drill. As I am writing, I can see the Capitol of the United States. You need not write till I write again. I have no time to write anymore. Goodbye, Franklin Blanchard

Wens. Sept. 3, 1862 Headquarters, Ft. Lyon, VA Dear Parents and Brothers, I now set down to write to you how I am and how I stood it on my way here. When we started from Detroit some way, I missed of seeing you. I saw almost everybody that I knew but you and the children. But it was just as well for me, and perhaps better, for I left without shedding tear and have felt well and light-hearted ever since, although we had rather on the cars. We got in Cleveland about half past 8 Saturday morning and took the cars for Pittsburg and got there a little before dark. Took supper and started for Baltimore, which we reached next night dark. Took supper, then started for Washington and got there at 11 o’clock a.m. We took dinner and started for Ft. Lyons, 9 miles southeast from Washington. We reached the fort just dusk when dark clouds came up and it soon began to rain very hard. I put on my overcoat and sat down on my knapsack and buttoned my coat close around me, but I didn’t set there long; I see a barn about 30 rods off and me and one other boy started for it. We was the first ones there and got the best place. We got into a covered wagon and laid down in it. My overcoat was not wet through, but I took it off for fear that I might catch cold. I put my sack under my head and my blanket over me. I was quite tired and soon went to sleep. I slept quite sound through the night. It was clear and quite cool. It is cooler here than it is to home and has been since we have been here. Tuesday morning I felt quite unwell and thought I had better go over to the hospital. When I got over there, I was quite tired. The doctor had me lay down

on a blanket. He give me some medicine and very soon I felt better, but the Dr. said I must stay there that day and night. So the next morning I went back to camp; but I did not feel well and about noon I had a fever come and had to go back to the hospital. I was not very sick, not so much so but that I can write this letter. There is not much news for such a place as this. Jackson has been getting the start of us some and our troops, and they have retreated back somewhere. Sigel and McDowell’s baggage trains passed here last night for Washington. I don’t know where their troops are today. The Mich. 2nd, 3rd, 5th came to this Ft. and probably will stay here two or three days. Our make is firm and will – if they attack – will probably give them a hard whipping. Franklin has stood it very well and I don’t think our regiment will have to fight yet a while on account of our drill. I feel considerable than I have for quite a spell. I don’t like to stay in the hospital where so many are sick. The doctor said I could go to camp in the morning. I shall now have to bid you goodbye for it is getting dark. I have spilled my ink and got some more. I hope you all will write as soon as you can. Goodbye. Address you letters: Washington D.C. 24 Mich. Inf. Co. K

Pat Gaffney wanted me to write and tell you to tell his father that he wanted to send home about $15 and wanted him to be on a lookout for it.

Fort Lyon Thursday, [September] the 4, 1862 It is exciting times here. The rebels are within five miles of us. I think we will be in a fight before many days. We are in sight of Washington across the Potomac. Yesterday… Camp Michigan, [September] the 5 We was called out this morning. We can hear them fighting at Fall’s Church this morning. They say that it will be a hard battle. It is a pleasant place here. Marvin complains of being unwell this morning but I guess it is only to get rid of drill. I feel a little sick myself – all color. Will Harland... We have been on drill twice this morning. We didn’t have enough dinner today but we are going to have some more. There is two good springs here. Eli says that he directed his letter wrong. Write as soon as you get this. How does the little boys do? Well, I suppose I shall have to go on drill now. Goodbye.

Dear friends, Franklin has been writing some to you. I wanted me to write a little too. The letter I wrote to you the other day I did not get a chance to send out till today. I am getting along first rate and am quite smart. I should like to know how Catherine was getting along and if her Will comes to see her anymore. But I shall not have time to write anymore now, for the postmaster is going now. And I don’t know but he has gone now. I

guess that Franklin has told all and I should not have time to hardly write it anyway. Yours with great respect, Eli A. Blanchard Address: Co. K, 24th Reg’t. Michig. Infantry, Washington D. C.

Wednesday the 10th, 1862 Well, we marched about 6 hours yesterday and had a very easy march, and what caps all – we have got our pay, but not all of it. I got 22 dollars and 40 cts., a check of $16, the rest in greenbacks. I shall send the check out today with Franklin’s if I can. Franklin got 21 dollars and 20 cts., the check was $15. I shall have to hurry up if I send them out tonight. We are going to march tonight and there is some talk of our having a fight, but I don’t think we will. I have got lots more to write but have not got time. I shall write soon again and wish you to write often. Goodbye, Eli A. Blanchard

In the next letter, Franklin uses the mid-nineteenth century term “sutler.” A sutler was a civilian merchant who would follow an army to sell provisions to the soldiers.

Camp Clear, Wednesday, September 10, 1862 Dear Mother, I should think it was time I had a letter from you. I have wrote – this makes three – letters. There was a man died in our regiment this morning. He will be buried today. There has been five deserters in our company. Charlie Gaffney, for one. Pat Gaffney says he wants some of you to tell his folks that he has been sick, but he is better now. He wants his folks to write. We have a nice chance to look off and see the country here. We can see the city of Washington. I think it is a chance if we have fighting to do yet a while. But I thought we were going to have a fight sure once we were all called out in line of battle, but it was a false alarm. Marvin and Eli are well. Lewis Harland is sick. I can get all the watermelons I want here. Fruit of all kinds. I am going down to the river in a little while and we will have some more peaches and apples. If we want to buy anything here you got to have change, but you can buy off the sutler and he will give you tickets so you can go and get anything if him you want for the tickets. Well, I guess I must go and have a swim. Franklin Blanchard

Camp Shearer near Fort Baker Washington, D.C. Saturday, Sept. the 20th, 1862 Dear Mother, I received your letter night before last. Franklin and Marvin received one at the same time. You wanted to know why I did not write. It seems very curious to me that you have not received any, for this one makes me five and I don’t see why you get two from Franklin and none from me. I was very glad to hear from you and Asa L. and Aunt Hannah. I have written once to you, once to Aunt Hannah, once to Father, once to Asa L., besides this one. I cannot tell you much war news, for you get it there about as quick as we do here. But I can tell you what kind of times we have and how we all are and how we all like it. I guess we like it well enough, for we have lots of fun and good times. We had a good time last night, I tell you. The brass band was down to the col.’s tent saluting him and all came down to hear them play. After they had played the tune out, the col. said, “Let’s have a dance,” so we formed on for a cotillion. It came rather hard to dance without the girls but we got along very well. We danced 2 or 3 times and then it was so dusty we stopped. The col. said that today he would have a nice floor built in front of his tent and dancing would commence at seven o’clock, but I don’t know how that will be. We have lots to eat and good, clean tents to sleep in. I get along first rate a-drumming. I have good, easy times. We all are tough, hearty, and feel good. We have got the goodwill of the officers I guess, for they act good-natured to all of us. I shall now have to close and go out and drum. I want you to tell the boys that we are coming home all right by and by, for there is no danger of our getting a chance to fight any. Write soon and tell Asa L. to write and tell all the other boys too; and I would like to hear from Cate. Tell them all to write. Respectfully, Eli A. Blanchard

[Saturday], Sept. 27, 1862

Dear Mother, we received your letter last evening and we was pleased to hear from you. Eli is not very well but he is better now. He has got a diarrhea; the soldiers most all have it. I am well and enjoying myself first rate. I think we will remain around Washington as long as we are soldiers. The president has issued a proclamation to now have a hundred thousand troops stationed around Washington. I was on guard night before last. It was a cold night. I wasn’t any too warm with my overcoat and blanket on. I was on guard in front of the col.’s tent. I sent a paper home to Father last Wednesday. I wrote a letter to Scott last week. There is a guardhouse full of boys. Some are in for stealing, and some of

our drummers are in for breaking their drums on purpose, and some are in for fighting and getting drunk; but there is not one of Co. K been in the guardhouse yet, and we are determined there shall not be. There was a good many letters for Co. K last night. James Leslie got one with a sack of tea in it. Marvin got one too. Pat Gaffney did not get any. He says he has wrote about 20 letters and has received no answer yet. I have wrote three myself for him. We have to drill a good deal now. The boys say they had as [illegible] drill as to go on guard. We have dress parade at 6 o’clock in the morning now, and before breakfast too. We drill from 9 o’clock in the morning till noon. We go at it again at two and drill till five. I have been in one battle since I have been here. It was last evening. It was a desperate struggle to men wounded. One shot in the face and one shot in the arm. Our side was side beat the rebels and took their flag from them and captured one whole company. I guess there would have been more killed, but our cartridges happened to be all blank. We had 20 rounds apiece. We are going to have another fight tonight, but I should go. My company has gone out and I am off writing. I see I have made a mistake in writing this letter. I guess you will find it out soon enough after you have read the first page. I suppose that Co. Woodberry will inspect us. Morrow we will have to take our knapsacks on our backs and go out where we did last Sunday. I suppose they don’t go in swimming in Michigan now, but we go in swimming here yet. There are plenty of chestnuts here, but they are not ripe yet. But the boys knock them off and break the bur and eat them. I should think it was time I had a letter from Aunt Hannah. I wrote her a letter as soon as we got hers. I wish I could get a letter every day. It seems nice to get a letter from home. Well, the next time I write I will write with a pen and ink. This pencil is so poor I can hardly read it myself. Write as soon as you get this. Goodbye, Frank Blanchard

Camp Shearer, Mon. 29 Dear Mother, I now set down to tell the news and tell how I have been. Well, in the first place, I have been middling sick, but am a great deal better now. I have not been on the sick list but a week. There been 2 or 3 different things the matter of me. I have had boils, the headache and fever, backache, and a very poor appetite but I am better all around now. I feel better all the time. We have had nice weather here all the while I have been here. I have good times when I am well, I tell you. I shall now have to tell you the news, and that is we have received marching orders. We have got to go to Fredericksburg in General Bank’s brigade. We all felt please when heard of it. Franklin is well except a little diarrhea and that don’t trouble him much. Marve is all right. Lewis Harland is getting better slowly. The boys are all in fine spirits and seem well suited with the change. I want to hear from Asa L. and Cate. I am glad to hear that Grandfather is better. Tell Bonny and Earny to be good boys, help Father all they can. Franklin and Marve have

gone down to the river to wash. I was not well enough so I stayed to write. I shall now have to close. I send my respects to all of my friends. Goodbye.

[Saturday] Oct. the 11th, 1862 Camp Harbaugh near Sharpsburg, MD Dear Parents, I now set down to write you again and tell you how we are getting along. There is not a great deal of war news now but I can tell you about the march we had. I wrote to you when I was in Washington about our leaving Camp Shearer. I left Washington with the rest of the sick boys although I was not very sick. We left there the next day after I wrote that letter. We got the Camp Clark on Friday and there we found some good water – the best that I have drank since I left home. I got better right off after I got there. Saturday we went to the river and passed right over the ground where Jackson’s army camped. We stayed at Camp Clark till Monday morning when we started for Sharpsburg. We marched through Frederick City about half a mile from our camp. Then we followed up the road that Jackson took on his retreat. We could see the marks of the army as we passed along the road. There was skirmishing on both sides most all the way along the second day we marched. We stopped about 10 a.m. and stayed there till 5 p.m. They had had a heavy battle about half mile from there and we went up on the ground to see what kind of a place it was. It was on a place called South Mountain on a tableland of about 12 acres. There was a stone wall on there about 4 feet thick which the rebels were behind. There was a whole brigade behind there when the 17th Mich. was ordered to charge bayonets which they did with yell. And would you believe it? They routed them in a hurry – they run like sheep before dogs. And since then they have been called the stonewall regiment. That regiment won the battle that day. I went back to camp and we cooked our supper and then started on. You ought to see the cornfields along the road. The corn had been entirely destroyed in some fields and some others were hardly touched by their men. All along the road, we could see marks of a skirmish. Most every house and barn had a cannonball hole through it. They were struck in the roof or chimney and hardly any down low. We marched on through Sharpsburg and on about 2 miles farther where we reached the rest of our division. We are in Hooker’s division and in Gibbon’s brigade. They are both fine officers and fight well. We are in about half a mile of the Potomac where there is a nice place to swim. The weather is warm here; have nice times swimming. I have just received a letter from Asa L. and you. I was glad to hear that you were getting along well. It was amusing to hear about old Dick and the rest of them. How old Dick must glory in what he has done. I want Asa L. to – as soon as old Dick’s suit comes off – tell the news about it. I want you and Mother to write as much as you can. We are all well. Marvin tents with Franklin and I. I shall now have to close. Write as soon as you can. Goodbye. From, Eli / Address Co. K, 24 Mich. Inf. Gen. Gibbon’s Brigade, First Army Corps, Washington D.C. / My hand has trembled so I could hardly write this letter. My pen is poor.

Sunday morning, October the 12 Camp Harbaugh near Sharpsburg, Maryland

Dear Mother, I received your letter last Tuesday and one from [illegible] a long time getting here. It went to Harper’s Ferry. I should had it a week ago. It is very still times here now. We do not get much news. We sometimes get the Baltimore Clipper. We are in about half a mile of the river. Some of the boys has swam across and back. [illegible] here, but the most of them are wounded. Some are wounded in the body and some are wounded in their limbs, and some have had their limbs taken off. The most of them were wounded in battle fought here – the greatest battle that was ever fought – and some of them was wounded at South Mountain. When we marched from Camp Clark to this place halted close by the battleground at South Mountain and stayed from 10 till 5. So the most of us went over to see the battleground. It was covered with knapsacks and cartridge boxes and letters and lots of dead horses. There was not a tree but what was hit, and some of them had 20 bullet holes in them and the fences was all full of ball holes. News came here last night. The rebels was in Pennsylvania. The cooks were ordered to cook today’s rations last night. I do not know when we will move from here, but within a day or two. I think I am on guard today. I did not finish my letter this morning. I did not have time. It is 4 o’clock now. It is quite cold and it looks like rain. We have a-plenty to eat such as it is. We have plenty of hard crackers to eat. Sometimes we fall short of having enough meat, but not often. Sometimes we draw rice, beans, potatoes, and molasses. So as a general thing we get enough to eat. We have learned to drill quite well. The inspecting officer says we have the cleanest guns in our brigade. Marvin, Eli, and me all tent together. You say you want I should write often. You shouldn’t expect letters very often for we do not get much time to write. We have to drill most all time but Sundays. The next time you write, send some postage stamps for I am going to put the last one on this letter. Address Co. K 24th Mich. Inf., Gen. Gibbon’s Brigade, First Army Corps, Washington D.C. This from your son, Franklin A. Blanchard This other letter from Marvin.

Camp Hicks, Wednesday, Oct. the 29th, 1862 Near Harper’s Ferry, MD Dear Father, I now set down to write a few lines to you. It has been quite a while since I wrote to you last but I have written to the rest of you so that you have heard from us just as often. Well, we have moved from that beautiful camp we were in when I wrote my last letter, and a nasty time we had of it, too. You remember that I wrote it on Sunday and that it was raining. It began to rain still harder just as I closed it. I took it and carried it up to the postmaster’s and came back, laid down a little while in the tent. It was so cold that I had to cover up my head and ears to keep warm and then it was hard work. I had not laid there long when there was a stir outdoors. I went out to see what it was and to my surprise, we had received orders to strike tents and be ready to march in an hour. Well, there we was, and the rain pouring down like all mad, but go we must. We had 3 days rations to draw at the quartermaster’s. Well, we all went to work in fine spirits. We went to work and soon had our things all packed up ready for a start. The whole brigade had to move artillery and all. It had got pretty muddy by this time, but off we started, playing “Yankee Doodle” as we marched along. We marched along till dark and then we hoped that it might stop raining but hoped in vain. It kept pouring down all the harder and our clothes were pretty well soaked. Well, we marched till about 9 o’clock through the mud and rain and a stonier road I never marched in. I made out to stand up but I guess about all the rest stumbled against the stones and fell down. The old drum major stubbed his toe and down he come – cosplash! – broadside in the mud and water. That made him look rather down in the mouth for he got his nice coat all mud. Well, we stopped at 9 and pitched our tents, spread our blankets down, built our fires, cooked our suppers. It kept up raining all the time. After supper, we went in and laid down on the blankets but did not lay there long before they were soaked through. The water ran under the tent and wet them. We could not stand that very well but we might about as well lay there as to stand out in the rain. We shivered away a spell in there and then I got up and went by the fire and stayed there till morning. It kept raining till daylight, then it stopped and the wind began to blow and it was quite cold. But the wind dried up the mud and our clothes. We stayed there till we got our clothes all dry and then marched on. We got along the rest of the way very well and did not catch cold a bit. I expect that we will have to march again tomorrow. We will cross the river at Harper’s Ferry and go over into Virginia. I don’t [know] whether we shall take winter quarters very soon or not. I must now close my letter, hoping you will write soon as you get this. Yours with respect, Eli A. Blanchard

Tuesday, November the 4, 1862 Dear Mother, I now have a few moments to spare and I do not know as I can improve it any better than in writing a few lines to you. Eli and myself are well and so is the most of our regiment when we were at Camp Dickey, in may all that could not stand it to march was taken to Washington to the general hospital. There was a good many sick at that

time, and Marve was sick with the rest. I have not heard from him since he went to Washington. Friday, November the 7, 1862. Dear Father, I will now try and finish my letter. I did not have time to finish my letter when we were ordered to march. We heard that the rebels were marching to cut off our supply train, and it was a strife to see who should get there first. We expected to have a fight before this, but we have not had any yet. We do not have much to eat now. We are on the march. I don’t expect we shall stop before we get to Richmond. We marched 22 miles last Wednesday with only 4 crackers and a little piece of meat, and marched the 20 miles yesterday, and have got to march again tomorrow. There was 9 of our men killed as we were marching to this place yesterday. Well, I shall have to close so I can send this letter out.

Frank Blanchard

Dear Father, the mail is going out now and I have not had time to write for about 10 days. I shall write soon as I can. Eli A. Blanchard

Saturday November the 8, 1862 Dear Mother, I now have a little spare time to write so I will write you a few lines. I am well and feel first rate. Eli says he would feel all right if he could get enough to eat. He has gone off to a mill to buy some meal. Our supply train got cut off and we have had no bread for three days. We have plenty of meat but we want bread with it. They say we shall have plenty tonight. We are now near Washington. We expected to have a fight here but the rebels left as soon as we got there. It snowed here all day yesterday and it was very cold, but it is warmer today. I think that the snow will go off today. We are going to march to-a-morrow, they say in the direction of Sulfur Springs. They are fighting there today. We can here the cannon very plain. I was never so fleshy as I am now. I think that soldiering agrees with me. I have not heard from Marve since he went to Washington. We do our own cooking now. Each one cooks for himself. They deal out the meat so each one has an equal share and each one has so many crackers. The sugar is dealt out in a spoon and so is the coffee. When we are marching, we skirmish all we can. We go and take chickens out of the hen roosts, and take and skin the pigs and roast them, and get all the apples we can find. All the boys are out of money but we shall get our pay the 15 of this month. I shall send the most of mine home. While I am writing, the mail comes in and Eli has got a letter from Poke Pissons. I did not get any letter but they say that there is more to come. Eli has not got back from the mill yet. I wish he would come for I want some Jonny cake. We had some this morning and it was first rate. When you write again you may send me some more postage stamps for I am just out. And if you have any bad

76 money send it along, or if you have got any secession money send it along, for it will pass here as well here as good money. When we get where we stay for a week or two, I will write all the time. When I get home, I will tell you all about what times we have had and what I have seen. Frank Blanchard

Camp near Brook’s Station, VA [Sunday], November the 9th, 1862 Dear Parents, I thought that I would write to you and tell you how we are getting along and where we are at. It has been quite a while since I wrote to you last, but I will try and make that up now I have a chance. Well, I am getting first rate now and am enjoying fine health and having the best of times. I have been in the best of health for a month past and, like Franklin, am getting fat. Our marches have been short and easy along back and we have had quite easy times, but I have been quite busy so that I have not had time to write scarcely at all. Franklin is well as usual and enjoys himself first rate and so are the rest of the boys in our company. We received your letters last week stating that Aunt Hannah had gone to Washington to see Marve and we got letter from there stating that he had got a furlough for 60 days and was going home with her to get well. I want you to write as soon as you get this and tell us how he is, for we did not know that he was so sick. I hope that he will get better soon so as to come back and join the regiment again, for he was a good companion and always ready for a little fun, and fun is what we like. Well, they don’t march us much now and we begin to stay longer in a place and I guess that we have got in a place now that we will stay in for a while – and maybe all winter, for we are stationed on the railroad between Washington and Fredericksburg for guard, and the talk is that we will stay here a while. The col. don’t like it very well and will try to get us out of it if he can, but he has had his way so much along back that I guess he can’t come it. And I hope he can’t, for I would rather stay here than be marching around all winter. You write in your last letter about sending us some gloves and comforters. Well, I am glad that they are coming, for it is rather cool here mornings and they will be very handy for me to wear to beat the reveille and tattoo in. You wanted us to write and tell you all about how we liked it and how we fared. Well, I like it very well and better than I had expected. I can stand anything like that which we have been through yet. You folks up home think that we have a great deal harder times than we do. I have to endure a great many hardships, but it is not so with us. But even if it was, we could stand it without grumbling. I did not come down here expecting to have easy times. We come down here to fight for the country, and even if it did come hard, we could stand it. It is getting quite late and I shall have to stop writing. Write soon as you get this. Tell Charlotte to write too, and all the rest of the folks. Nothing suits me better than a letter. From, Eli They have got a fiddle out the door and are having a jolly time dancing. I guess I shall have to go out and limber up.

Monday, November the 10, 1862 Dear Mother, I received your letter yesterday with great pleasure and was glad to hear that you were all well and that you were getting along so well, and I hope that you will continue to do so. Eli and myself are well and enjoying ourselves first rate. Eli is washing his shirt and stockings. I guess when I get my letter wrote I will wash mine and then he can write a letter. I suppose you had heard before this that Marve was sick and at the General Hospital in Washington. The last time that I saw him well was at Camp Penniman. He and myself was on the water brigade and we had to carry water about a half a mile. I received a letter from Scott yesterday. He and his wife were going to go east. He thinks he will visit Washington. Warrington, the place where we are situated, the people are about all secessionist. They will not sell us a thing. I wish that we could burn the whole city. We have not been in any fights yet. I think we have been lucky so far, but we can’t always be lucky. I think you will hear in a few days of the largest battle that has ever been fought yet. The rebels’ pickets are in 5 miles of here. Our company has not been on picket but once yet. I have not been on guard in about two weeks. Eli and myself had a good time eating preserves the other day. When we were marching there was an old rebel peddler came along and we pitched in. Eli got one bottle of preserves and I got one. The col. told us to come along and hurry up but get one of we could. The peddler tried to drive us away and he wanted to know if we didn’t have any mercy on a Union man. Well, I do not know as I can think of any more to write at present. I was glad you sent them postage stamps, for we were just out. Write often. We will write as often as we can. Tell Aunt Hannah that she must answer my letter that I wrote her some time ago. Goodbye, Frank Blanchard

Thursday, November the 13, 1862 Camp in the field six miles from Washington on the road to Richmond Dear Father, I now have a little spare time and I do not know as I can improve it any better than to write a few lines to you. We left Camp Flannigan day before yesterday about noon and came to this place the same day. Our camp is situated in a very pleasant place nearly surrounded by woods. There is thousands of troops staying all around us as far the eye can extend and there is a powerful army ahead of us. The report was yesterday that Sigel had taken Gordonsville. I think it must have been quite a battle, for we heard firing all day. If they will only keep the road clear, the regiment will not have any fighting to do till we get to Richmond. I suppose that it is about one hundred miles to Richmond. The roads are in good condition and it will not take us long to get there if we only keep going. I think we will move from here today. I suppose you have had some cold weather by this time. Well, we have had three or four days. It is fine weather here now. There was quite a stir in camp this morning. Captain Ingersoll had skirmished a good horse somewhere. And if he could ever steal anything himself, he was sure to have it. But if any of the boys stole anything, he would find them out if he could and report

them. So some of the boys last night shaved all the hair off from his horse’s tail and they took all of mane off. You better believe he was raring this morning but he could not find out who did it. I do not know as we shall get our pay this month, but if we do not get our pay this month we will get it next month. They [say] that the pay roll was not made out right, but some say we will get our pay day after tomorrow. Well, I guess I have wrote about all I know, but I guess I will tell you what we have to carry when we march. I carry a knapsack, two woolen blankets, one pair of socks, overcoat, a shirt, paper and envelopes, and 20 rounds of cartridges, canteen, and haversack, and it is a good deal to march with all day. Eli and myself are well. I have not heard anything from home. You would write and let me know. Write as soon as you get this. Give my love to all,

Frank Blanchard

Friday, November the 14th, 1862 Camp Nall near Fayetteville, VA Dear Mother, I thought that I would set down and write a little to you this morning. It has been quite a spell since I wrote to you last. I write often as I can but I have so many to write that I don’t get around so often as I should like. I find a little time this morning and so I will improve it well. There is not much news to write more than common. The most there is, however, is that we have got orders to march this morning, but that is not unexpected to us for we hardly ever stay in a place more than 2 or 3 days. Then we march a day and hold on a spell. I should not wonder if we marched to a place where we shall stay quite a while for there is considerable talk of our going into winter quarters pretty soon. I rather hope that we will for I don’t like to be marching around from one place to another so much. Franklin and I are both well and have very good times. Franklin is doing uncommon well. He is fatter than I ever thought of being and will weigh more too. But Marvin I am afraid is not doing so well. We have not heard from him since we crossed the pontoon bridge. I should like to write a great deal more but have not got time and shall have to hurry to get ready by the time the rest do. I shall write again soon as I can and want you to do the same. This from your son, goodbye, Eli A. Blanchard Be sure to write often.

Monday morning, December the first, 1862 Dear Father, As I have nothing to do today, I will write you a letter. It is not a great while since I wrote to you but I do not think you will be displeased if I should write twice to your once. The most you think of is Eli’s and my health, so I will tell you at once that we are both well. I think Marve was lucky getting a furlough for 60 days to go home and he is foolish if he does not make his furlough last three years. I do not think he would have got a furlough if it had not been for his mother. There is a good many sick in our regiment at present. There was one man died out of Gordon’s Company last week. His name was John Harris. There is a good many sick in our Company. There is only 50 men that is able for duty and it brings us on guard. Every third day our regiment has three miles of railroad to guard and it takes 15 men each day, and our orders is if we see anyone meddling with the railroad or telegraph wire to alert them and send them to headquarters. There was one man arrested last night and sent to headquarters, and if there is anything proved against him he will be shot. I do not know as I have told you yet what railroad this is. It is called the Aquia Creek and Fredericksburg Railroad. It is only about seven miles from here to Fredericksburg. They expect us there every day but we will not be there. We will have to guard this railroad. There is a great many troops laying all around us. There is four divisions. There is a number of Michigan regiments about three miles from here. There is the 6, 8, 16, 17, and 20th that I know of. George Harmon is well and tough as a knot, so I was told by a man that belonged in the 20th. I do not know, but we shall get our pay tomorrow. But I do not believe we will get our pay yet. I am afraid that Eli will not have enough money if he sends home $11 dollars a month for he would not have but two dollars for him left and I do not know as it can be helped now without you. Write to me and you can have one month pay taken off of my wages and send the rest home. You had better see someone who knows something about it before you write. If you write you had better write it on a piece of paper separate so we can send it to the paymaster general. When you direct your letters, direct them to the 24 Michigan regiment, Washington D.C. You need not put on the brigade nor army corps for we are out of our brigade. We have plenty to eat, but our clothes – some of them are getting wore out. But we expect clothing here every day. I will tell you what I signed for: I signed for one pair of pants, one shirt, one pair of drawers, and a haversack. Eli sent for pants, drawers, and shoes. My boots are good yet. I have had them taped once. They will last me a good while yet. We have got one shoemaker in our company. When you write again you may send me some yarn and a darning needle to darn my stockings. That box of things that you was going to send has not come yet. Goodbye, Frank Blanchard

Brooks Station near Aquia Creek, VA Tuesday, December the 9th, 1862 Dear Mother, I received your letter last week and was very glad to hear that you were all well. I had not had a letter from you before in some time. I suppose the reason is because I have not wrote oftener, but I never can stand it to wait so long, for letters are of great value to me for I do like to get letters from home so and I shall try to write oftener to see if it will make any difference. We have moved from that place on the railroad down to the station about 2 miles below there and have had – are having – fine times down here. The weather is very cold here now and has been for 2 or 3 days. We have had a hard storm of snow and rain together, and then it turned very cold and it has been so ever since. But we have stood it like a book for we had a good tent and lots of clothes. We are stationed about 10 rods from the track and the cars come in about every hour. The men come up from the landing which is about 4 miles from here every train with cakes, apples, and cigars with other articles for the soldiers and in unloading them there is lots of barrels and boxes that break open so we get all that we want to eat. I have some to sell. One day there was a box of cigars fell off and I got it. I took it up to camp and sold it for a dollar. And another day, I was down on the track and a man throwed off a bunch of daily papers. I said I might have them and took them up to camp. Sold them for 5 cts. apiece. They came to about 2 dollars. I thought that was doing pretty well, for I was about out of money. The cars have just come in and there is quite a noise down there. I will go down and see what the matter is. I have just come back, and such a sight I never saw before. The cars ran up to the station to stop but went too far so that the hind car of the train passed the corner of a crossroad and had to back up. And just then there was 6 horses drawing a cannon across. The cars backed up and the horses tried to get out of the way but were too late. They had not got half way across when the car struck the middle span of horses and pulled them all 6 into the train. It killed one instantly and bruised the rest up pretty bad. I tell you, it looked hard to see these poor beasts groaning under the cars but we got them out and but one of them killed. I don’t see how in the world the rest got off alive. Well, our railroad guarding is done for this winter I guess, for an order has just come to the col. for us to march and he has ordered us to pack up strike tents and be ready to march in a half an hour. So goodbye for today.

Tuesday morning, December the 9th, 1862 Dear Father, I now have a little spare time and I do not know as I cam improve it any better than in writing a few lines to you. I received your letter last Friday. No, it was not your letter, it was Aunt Hannah’s letter that I got that day, but I got one from you yesterday and was glad to hear that you were all well. I suppose the first thing you will look for will be to[see] if Eli and I, Franklin, are well. Well, we are both well and feel first rate. Eli is

writing a letter to Mother and he will tell all about himself. While I am writing, someone says that the cars has just [illegible] over some artillery horses. I have just been down to the crossing and there was a sight. Orders has come to strike tents and I shall have to break off here and finish my letter some other time. Wednesday, December the 10, 1862 I have now got time to write a few more lines. Eli and myself are well. We march from Ft. Brook’s Station and are now on our way to Fredericksburg and are now within three miles of the place. The col. succeeded in getting us back into our old brigade again. The regiment did not like it much. There is every prospect of our regiment being in a fight tomorrow, yet I cannot say whether we will have one or not. But that seems to be all the talk now. When I get time, I will write you all. Were called up last night at 12 o’clock and were ordered to fall in for our pay and we got it, but we did not get quite all of our two months pay. We will get it all next payday. I will send a fifteen-dollar draft and I will have six dollars left. That will be enough I think to last me. When I get time, I will write to you again. We have just received that package that you sent us. Were glad to get them. Write as soon as you get this. Frank Blanchard

Tuesday, December the 16th, 1862 Camp near Fredericksburg, VA Dear Parents, I once more set down to address you and let you know how we are getting along. Well, things have turned out rather different from what I expected they would when I wrote my last letter, for since then. As you have before heard, we have had a battle. I wrote in my last letter that I did not think we would have a battle, but I find that I don’t know everything. We moved from where we was camped that night when I wrote last and laid out in the open field till morning and then moved on gradually towards the river. Our troops commenced to shell the city about daylight and kept it up all day without answering our shot. We burned a good many houses but did not destroy the whole city. At nightfall, we moved back into the woods and camped there till morning. Then we moved on to cross the river. The canon began to boom again at daybreak as usual. We did not cross the river till about noon. We had not been across a great while before they spied us and they soon began to throw shell at us and one struck plain in the regiment. It went into the ground but did not burst as we expected, but it made the mind fly to a shocking rate. It struck in about 4 feet of Franklin and spattered the mud all over his face but did not touch a man. The shell kept bursting in the air over our heads and we soon got out of the way. They did not trouble us anymore that day which was Friday. We camped that night in a chestnut grove in front of a nice large stone house. We expected to be attacked that night but was not and lay there quietly till morning. We then advanced down the river about a mile and they began to throw shell again but hurt nobody. The fifers and

drummers was then ordered to report to Dr. Beech. We went back to the hospital and the regiment advanced on to support a battery which we had opened on the rebels and both sides of artillery was soon engaged. It was an artillery fight pretty much all the way through. There was not much infantry fighting done. Our regiment was not engaged at all, but they got shelled some and our company suffered a good deal worse than any other in the regiment. There was 5 killed in our company and 3 wounded. Those killed were as follows: David Birrell, 2nd Lieu.; Wallace W. Wight, 5th Sergeant; Francis Pepin, Private; James R. Ewing, Private; John Litogot, Private. Wounded was orderly lain: George Fox and Fernando Forbes. Franklin came out all right but has got quite a hard cold. You thought because I did not write oftener that I must be sick. You would not think so if you could see how fat I was. I weigh 175 lbs which is more than I ever did before. We have got our pay. I sent you home a check of $16. Franklin need not send any more. I shall write again soon. I wish you to do the same. Goodbye, Eli A. Blanchard

[Saturday] morning December the 20, 1862 Dear Mother, this is the first time that I have had a chance to write to you since the battle. I will now try and write you a few lines. I sent my draft to father the day before my birthday and you know I told you that there was a prospect of there being a battle. Well, there was a battle but not a very hard one. That day there was not firing done by the rebels. Our forces shelled Fredericksburg and took possession of it before night. Our regiment did not go across the river until the next day in the afternoon. But we had not been but a few minutes when the rebels commenced throwing shell. One struck right in our regiment but never hurt a man, but we were all frightened some. But they soon stopped firing and we marched down the river about three miles and camped in a chestnut grove. We built fires and cooked our suppers. After supper and then we had to talk of the battle that would come off on the morrow. At last, morning came – the sun so clear and the sky looked clear. At 7 o’clock, we were ordered to march. We marched down till we came in sight of the rebels, then we halted and our battery opened fire on them. The rebels were in a piece of woods. Our battery continued to keep firing for about rounds. Then we were ordered to un-sling our knapsack and ordered to advance. We thought we were going to have a fight right off, but the rebels had gone over to their main army. We kept moving around pretty much all day supporting batteries. There was heavy firing all day. The officers said that it was the heaviest they ever heard. While we were supporting a battery, the shell came so thick in our ranks that we were ordered to move off to the right – an order I think that never ought to have been obeyed, for that move proved fatal to some of our company. They marched us right where the shells were falling all around us and killed five of our boys and wounded three. I had a very narrow escape. I got knocked down flat in the mud. I suppose the shell did not come over three inches from

my head. My overcoat, cap, and gun were all covered with brains and blood. I threw my overcoat away and bought another for 4 dollars. I have been quite sick with a stiff neck and one side of my head was so sore that I was nearly crazy, but I managed to keep away from the hospital and I am a good deal better. Well, I must close. Eli is well. Franklin A. Blanchard

Friday evening, December the 26, Camp near Belle Plain Dear Marve, I received your letter last Wednesday evening and was glad to hear from you and from home. I guess you have had a hard time of it. I heard that you had got a furlough when we were guarding the railroad. That must have been a month ago. Well, our regiment has seen some hard times since you left us. We have had to march 22 miles in one day and marched 20 the next, and have to sleep on the cold ground. They soon find out whether a man is made of cast iron or not. If he is not, they slap him into the hospital and then his doom is sealed, for they never get away alive. I have been quite sick but I kept away from the hospital. In the first place, I was taken with a headache and a stiff neck. That was the morning we went into the field to fight. I had not ought to have went but I kept up. We done a good deal of running to get where we wanted to. I don’t wish you to understand. We turned our backs to the rebels but we kept ahead – over fences, and cornfields, and ditches – till we came to our battery and we lay there supporting that while she fired shell after shell into a little piece of woods where the rebels lay quite thick. At last they stopped firing and our regiment were ordered to un-sling knapsack and advance into the woods. We expected to have a brush but the rebs had left. We got several horses and some cattle. Well, we moved on up nearer the rebels’ line then the shell came all around us. We laid down and after a while our battery came up and we played into them. And both sides kept playing till five were killed out of our company and three wounded. I got knocked down with the skull and brains that flew. I don’t think the ball came two inches from my head. I have no more to write tonight. Write soon, Franklin Blanchard

Monday, December the 29 Camp near Belle Plain’s Dear Mother, I now have a little spare time and I don’t know as I can improve it any better than in writing a few lines to you. I have been under the weather for a couple of weeks but I am all right now. I suppose I caught the hardest cold that a human being ever did have. It settled in my head so I had an awful headache and besides a stiff neck. But I kept away from the hospital and I am all right now. That change you sent to me came

handy. I have got rid of five dollars and got one dollar left. I gave four dollars for an overcoat, pockets in all, and one dollar for portfolio and I have bought a few apples for five cents apiece. I do not think that I shall buy any more at that rate. I wish that I had all the apples that I have throwed at a mark. I think I would have a number of bushels. [Friday], January the 2, 1863 I will now try and finish this letter. I should have finished it last Monday when I commenced, but we have been quite busy building our tents out of logs and pole. We are fixing up as snug as we can for winter’s quarters for they say that we are going to stay here all winter. I do not see why some of you do not write. I have not had a letter from home since you sent that dollar in change. Eli got a letter the same time. I don’t see why Aunt Hannah don’t write to me. I wrote a letter to her about a month ago and have not received any answer yet, but I shall live in hopes. It seems kind a good to get a letter from home. I do not know how it is when you get one from me, but I should think that you were always glad to get a letter from me or Eli for you are always telling us to write often, every day or two. I got a letter from Marve last week and Eli got one from him last Tuesday. We were all glad to hear from him. I do not think he will be well enough to come back when his furlough runs out. Well, I do not know but what I am as well as I ever was. Eli is well and enjoys himself first rate. What did you have good Christmas and New Year’s? We had some beans and onions, hard bread, and bacon. Well, I must close this letter. Write as soon as you get this. Give my respects to all. Goodbye, Frank Blanchard

[Tuesday], January the 6th, 1863 Dear Mother, We received your letters dated the 26. I also received one from Father this morning. [illegible] …Aunt Hannah again. You said that you presumed that we would think it some time since we received letters from you. Well, it did seem a good while but a letter came at last. The reason you did not write, you say, was because you did not know whether I was [illegible] alive. Well, I am not dead nor I am not a-going to die while I am down south. For when I do die, I want to be buried in better soil than Virginia can afford. So you need not worry anymore on my account, nor lay wake anymore nights either, for I am just as comfortable as I would be at home, for I have got our shanty fixed up good and warm. We have got a fireplace in our shanty. We just finished our chimney today. You say that you are going to send something to us. We shall be glad to get the things. Everything you send to us you said you were going to send us. A bar of soap you no need to send us that, for Uncle Sam supplies us in soap. We have just been eating supper. We had pancakes, but we didn’t have any of Mother’s pancakes. We drawed flour today for the first time. We have plenty to eat here. We are within a mile of the landing. We can see the Potomac from our camp. There has fifteen soldiers deserted since the battle of Fredericksburg, and more deserting every day. You said you wanted me to

write the particulars of the battle and how I felt. Well, I guess I will wait till I write a letter to Father. I will write one in a day or two. Eli is writing a letter to him now. There is a good deal of talk about settling this war, but I have heard that talk so much that I am sick of hearing it. But I suppose we shall go home sometime if it is not in three years. Well, we are all setting around the fire roasting onions and telling stories. I am writing well, the candle is most burnt out and I will close. Franklin Blanchard

Thursday, January the 8, 1863 Dear Father, I will write you a few lines to you and let you know that Eli and myself are well and I hope that these few lines will find you all the same. I hope you don’t stay awake nights on my account. You said you wanted me to write the particulars of the Battle of Fredericksburg. Well, on the 11th of December our forces commenced laying pontoon bridges across the river nearly opposite of Fredericksburg. They opened fire on us and then Burnside commenced shelling the town nor did he stop shelling till dark, and by that time our troops had crossed the river and taken possession of the town. The seventh Michigan was the first to cross the river. We were ordered to cross but when we had got most to the river the order was countermanded. So we had to march back again about one mile and the mud about 4 inches deep. There was troops crossing all night. The next morning we, the 24th, moved down towards the river and we had to wait till late in the afternoon. But the order came to march at last, and we were soon on the pontoons. It did not take us long to go across. After we had got across on the other side, we moved down the river. We had not moved far when we were ordered to halt. While [we] were resting, the rebs commenced throwing shell at us. One shell came right in our regiment – not killing a man. It struck within two feet of some. We were all ordered to lay down. We did, so some of the shell went right over our heads and struck in the river. But we soon moved on out of range of the guns. We moved down the river about two miles and went into a chestnut grove to stay for the night. We built fires and cooked our supper and then we talked about what we would have to do on the morrow. Some thought we would not have much of a fight while others thought it would be the hardest battle ever fought – and I don’t know but it was. Well we were up before day ready for a move. I took cold that night. Besides, I had a stiff neck and to cap off with, somebody stole my haversack and 20 rounds of cartridges so I did not have anything to eat in all day. Well, I did not want anything. Well, we marched about 10 o’clock and we marched quick time; over ditches and cornfields, double quick. At last, we came within about 60 rods of a piece of woods. The rebs were in there filthy thick. We waited till our battery came up and then our guns opened on them. I tell you, it made everything ajar. It was not long before the rebs were flying, then the 24th were ordered to un-sling knapsacks and advance. We all throwed our knapsacks in a pile and went straight to the woods, but we did not find any rebels there. They had all left. We then moved on. Well, I have lost my lead pencil and shall have to

finish with a pen. When I write again, I will tell you more about the battle. Franklin Blanchard When you write again, you send me two dollars. I suppose we will get our pay the 15 of this month. Well, I have found my pencil. Write as soon as you get this. Goodbye.

Friday, Jan. the 9th, 186[3] Camp near Belle Plain Landing, Virginia Dear Father, I guess it is about that I wrote a letter to you as I have not written to you in quite a while. I received yours the fore part of this week stating that you had got our check all right. I was glad to hear it. We was also glad to hear that you were all well. I don’t think you will need to lay awake anymore on account of us for we are in snug winter quarters now. I will probably stay here for the rest of the winter. We are getting things arranged so as to keep ourselves very comfortable now. Our little shanty is 8 by 10, 4 feet high and on top for a roof. We have a door on the west side and a fireplace on the east side, both in the center of the shanty. Then we have a bed at each end which leaves a space in the center of about 4 which is all the room we have to navigate in. There is only 4 of us in there and we manage to get along very well, only when we have company and then it is rather crowded. The names of the boys in our house are David and Wallace Wood and Franklin and I. There was 6 of us but we thought that 4 would be enough to put up quarters together. We built a stick chimney and plastered it up with mud. And on the inside I had it so it would draw real nice but pretty soon along come a fellow with some brush and they caught on the chimney. He acted as if he was mad about something and he gave a jerk and down come about half of our chimney right in the fireplace. Well that made us about mad enough to swear, but we thought it would be of no use. We could not do the matter justice, so we let the thing rest. I think when we get it fixed up again it will be good as ever. You spoke in your letter of sending us some things. We shall be very glad to get anything that you send to us. We draw flour for rations now instead of bread. We have grand times here a-cooking. Have pancakes 3 times a day. We stir the flour up in water. Earny thought that it must have made Franklin’s eyeballs jingle when them shell came over. I guess it did and mine too. I tell you what, it made me hug the ground very close when them large shell would come so close to us. Tell Mother that if she can get any red pepper that I wish she would send me some in a letter, for pepper is rather scarce down here. I want you to write soon as you get this. Tell me all the news and what you think of the war. Goodbye, from Eli. I am grateful all the time. Franklin has got over his cold and the boys in the company are all well.

Saturday, Jan. the 10th, 186[3] Camp near Belle Plain Landing, Virginia Dear Brother, I now set myself down to answer the letter that I just received from you. I was glad to receive a letter from you once more. I had not had one from you before in over 2 months. I hope that you will try and write oftener after this. That bag of things that our folks sent by the lieut. col. we was very glad to get them a little [illegible] in a while it will be quite a rarity. And our stockings came just in time, for our others were nearly worn out. [Ripped out] …good many things with him for our regiment. Nearly every boy in our company got something of some kind. Lewis Sott was here in the regiment yesterday to see us but we had gone down to the landing and so did not see him. He could not stay long and went on up to Falmouth, but he is a-coming back in a day or so and we will have a chance to see him then. We shall be very glad to see him for it is seldom that we see a citizen from Mich. Well, we live very well down here now and have jolly good times. We have nothing to do but cook, eat… [ripped out] …which we make out to get along with very well. We had pancakes for breakfast, and fried beef crackers and coffee for dinner, and I guess we will have some boiled potatoes for supper for I bought a half a bushel yesterday. I gave 12 $ for them which I think is quite a price, but it is cheap to what they have been for they have been selling at 6 for a quarter. Well, Asa L., I should like to be at home to go to school with you this winter, for I would be learning something then. But I enjoy myself very well as it is and am content to stay as… [ripped out] …the rest till the thing is over with, which I think will not be a great while. I would like it very well if I had a pair of boots now, for it is coming on muddy before long and shoes will not be of much service. The captain has gone home on a furlough and when he comes back maybe that Father could send a pair by him. If he could bring them it would be a great deal cheaper than I could get them here. It is raining today and will probably be a stormy time of it. Tell Marve I shall write to him in a few days. Write as soon… [ripped out] …from your [ripped out].

I think that you wrote a bully good letter. Try and do as well next time. This paper is so rotten that I tore off a piece doing it up.

P.S. Saturday morning the 10th, 186[3] The lieut. col. has come and has brought a lot of things with him. The goods have not been opened yet so we can’t tell whether the things have come or not, but we expect they have. I shall now have to close so as to have my letter go out with the mail this morning. Goodbye, E. A. B.

Wednesday, January the 14th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing Dear Father, as I have a few minutes to spare I will try and write you a few lines and let you know that we are both well, and I hope that these few lines will find you all the same. I am on guard today. I am on the first relief. I went on guard at 9 and came off at 11. I go back on at 3, so I am off four hours. We have to drill now days a drill that they call skirmish drill. It is very easy to learn. I will tell you all about it when I come home. You may think that I will never come home but I think the time will come sometime if it is not in three years. There was a man buried in our company today. He was from Monroe County. He died from the effects of drinking vinegar. I believe I promised you that I would write more of the particulars of the battle of Fredericksburg. Well, as I told you, we were ordered to charge on a piece of woods. Well, we took some prisoners, horses, and cattle. Then we were ordered to move forward in the direction of the rebels’ batteries. We kept a good line notwithstanding the rebs were playing on us with 27 pieces of artillery. The shells were falling all around us, killing none, and then a man. But we kept on till we were ordered to halt. We then laid down behind our battery, which kept up a continued firing. We remained there during the day supporting our battery. Just before dark as the shells began to come faster, it was thought proper for us to move off to the right. We did so, went about forty rods, then halted but the shell came all around us. We then moved on to the right. We had not moved far when a shell bursted in our ranks, killing five and wounding three. I thought I was wounded at first but I was only stunned. I got up about as quick as I was knocked down. I had not been well all day and I think that made me worse. I only ate one cracker that day, and the next day I did not eat much. About noon, Doctor Smith sent me to the hospital. I went but did not get any medicine. I went where Eli was and he took care of me. That night about ten o’clock we were ordered to fall back across the river. Eli and me got across before our regiment. Well, I must close, but when you get a chance, you may send me a pair of boots made to order at Steven’s. You can send me a shirt and a pair of suspenders. Put them in the boots. Well, goodbye for this time, F. A. Blanchard

[Wednesday], [January] the 28, 1863 Dear Mother, I will now try and write you a few lines and let you know that Eli and me are both well and I hope that these few lines will find you the same. You may think it strange that I have not answered your letter any sooner, but when I come to tell you what a time we have all had, I guess you will not think it so strange. When I got your letter last week, I meant to answer it right off but we were ordered to have three days cooked rations in our haversacks and be ready to march at any moment. Well, we did not march in two or three days, but I did not write any letter. The first day’s march the roads was in good order and we got along first rate, but that night it commenced raining just before we

89 got into camp and it rained hard, too. And it was cold and dark and we thought we [had] tough times of it. We managed to get up our tent but the rain beat in, and our blankets got wet and we had to march so early the next morning that we did not have time to dry them and we had to carry them wet. And the mud was so deep that we could hardly get along, but they kept us budging right along and we marched 18 miles that day. There was a good many fell out and did not come at that. But I kept up and marched in the ranks all the way. It rained about all that night and some of the next day. We were all wet and we were sick of soldiering. We were going to cross the Rappahannock but the river was so high and the roads was so bad. Burnside was obliged to give it up and we were ordered back to our old quarters. If we had gone over the river, I think there would have been a great battle the next day. We were on our way back to our old quarters but the mud was so thick and deep that it was almost impossible to get along. But we made out to get back to our old quarters just before dark. But when we got there, we found them occupied by an Ohio brigade so we had to camp out that night. Some of the houses were torn down, mine with the rest. The next day the Ohio troops moved out so we could go in. Eli and me tented with Woods boys, but Eli and me are tenting alone now. I received a letter from Father yesterday. The dollar and 25 cents came safe. When you write again, you may send me some postage stamps and a little black pepper in a letter. F. A. Blanchard

Saturday, Jan. the 31st, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing, Virginia Dear Mother, I now set myself down to write a few lines to you and let you know how we are getting along and what we have been up to for a while along back. Well, Franklin and I are both well and all right. You have heard of course of the move that we made out towards Fredericksburg and got stuck in the mud. I was obliged to fall back into our old winter quarters again. That was rather an unlucky move for Burnside, but the best of men will have bad luck sometimes. Well, it was a hard march for us through the mud but a great deal harder for the horses of the artillery and supply trains. It was such hard work for them to pull the cannon through the mud and up the steep hills. I guess I saw over a hundred horses that was killed that march. I saw 36 horses hitched onto one gun and then it was all that they could do to pull it up hill. Well, we got back at last and when we got here we found our shanty all tore down and burnt up for wood. That made us feel pretty wrathy. But we could not help that it was gone and we had to go to work and build another one. We have just got it built and the chimney finished. It works first rate and we have got as good a shanty as we had before. I forgot to tell you that Franklin is not here now. There 50 out of our regiment had to start off this morning at daylight with 3 days rations in their haversacks to look for deserters, and I don’t expect him back till Monday night. He and I tent alone this time and I have the shanty all to

myself. We have not had a letter from home now in quite a while. The last one we got was dated the 14th. We are expecting one every day. We are glad too that you are all well and Mother, I don’t want you to worry so much about us, for we are provided very comfortable for down here. I sleep as warm in my bed here as I would at home. I got a letter from Earny the other day. I never once thought he could write like that. Franklin and I have both sent for a pair of boots and I guess, if you send them, that will be enough. It is getting late and I must close. Goodbye from your son, E. A. Blanchard

Friday, [February] the 6, 1863 Dear Father, I will now try and write a few lines to you. I received your letter day before yesterday. Eli got one from Mother also, and we were forth glad to hear from home and hear that you were all well. Eli and myself are well. Eli has had a diarrhea but I bought some cheese of the sutler for him and that helped him right away. I had to pay 30 cents a pound for it – and skimmed milk cheese at that. I think that most too dear the sutler is making his fortune. It has been raining for two days and it is very muddy so I do not think we will move from here for some time. There has been a good deal of deserting going on lately – and a good many from our regiment. But that has about played out now. There is a very strict watch kept along the river now. If the deserters could only get across the river into Maryland, they were almost sure to get away. Lieutenant Col. Flanigan and 50 men were detailed from this regiment last Friday night; five from every company to go on very important duty and to have three days rations in our haversacks and be ready to march at six o’clock in the morning. I was one of the five of our company that went. We were not to be told what our business was till we had got outside the picket line. When we had got outside of the pickets, he told us that we were going in pursuit of deserters and to arrest all citizens that were suspected of aiding deserters in getting away. We were not to be gone over three days. The first day, we took seven deserters and two citizens. Two of the deserters tried to get away after we had got them. They had got about 20 rods away from us when they were ordered to halt. But they would not till two shots were fired at them, and they expecting a whole volley, they halted. There was a strict watch kept after that. There is a report here that we are going to go to Washington and from there, into the western army. Another report is that we are going to North Carolina. I received that dollar that you sent. The captain has not arrived yet. I am glad you are going to send us some things. I must now close.

Franklin A. Blanchard

Saturday, [February] the 14th, 1863 Dear Mother, I received your letter dated the second and was glad to hear that you were all well. Eli and myself are well. I never felt better in my life. We have got good quarters and have plenty to eat and drink. We live better now than we have before since we have been in the army. We get soft bread four times a week, and onions, potatoes, and molasses once a week. Today we drew ham for the first time, but not such ham as we get at home. But it goes very well. Anything is good enough for a soldier. He has got to take what is dealt out to him or go without. It has been a pleasant day. We have not had much cold weather lately but we have had a [illegible] deal of rainy weather and the roads have been very muddy. There has been a good deal of corduroy road built lately. I worked on the road for two days. Sunday morning, [February] 15 I will now try to finish my letter. It is raining and it looks very dreary. It looks as if it would rain a week. I am glad that I am not on guard. There is 30 men detailed for guard. Every morning in this regiment there is quite a number of prisoners in the guardhouse for trying to desert. Captain Wight has not arrived yet, but we expect him any day. We shall all be glad to see him and the things that he will bring with him. I heard a day or two ago that John Briggs had been taken prisoner by the rebs while he was on his way to see Dick. I should think that it was rather tough on the old gentleman. Well, it may learn him something. I shouldn’t wonder if he would have some big stories to tell when he gets home. Well, it keeps on raining yet. I do not know as I can think of anything more to write at present. Tell Earny and Bonny that I will write them a letter the next time I write. Franklin A. Blanchard

Tuesday, [Feb.] the 17th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing, Virginia Dear Mother, I now will write a few lines to you to let you know that we are both well and healthy. I am not quite so fat as I have been but I soon shall be if I keep on the way I am now for a week longer. Franklin is just as fleshy as ever. I think that you would hardly know him if you should see him. I never felt so well and so full of the old scratch in my life as I do now. My old drum had the misfortune to get smashed the other day and I don’t have anything to do and shan’t have until we draw some new ones, and I don’t know when that will be; perhaps not in a month. Well, it is snowing today quite hard and Franklin has gone out on picket. It began to snow about 4 o’clock this morning and has snowed ever since. There was 200 detailed out of this regiment for picket duty this morning and Franklin was one of them. It was rather unlucky for them to go out in this storm, but the pickets must go out, storm or

shine. It is nothing to have a storm down here. We usually have 3 days of bad weather to 1 of good. Well, the capt. has not come yet but we expect him every hour. We think that he will certainly be here today. Some of the things that he brought with him have come already. Ours has not come yet but we expect them as soon as the capt. comes. I shall be very glad when they get here, for I need some boots very much and so does Franklin. I wish that we had told you to have sent us a little butter. It would taste so good on the soft bread that we get. But we can get along without that better than the other things you sent us. We shall all be glad when the capt. comes, for there is not a better man in the whole regiment to his boys than Capt. Wight; and in my estimation, there is not one so good. There is not a man in the whole company but what likes him. There is quite a number of women visiting the regiment now. The most of them are the wives of officers. Some of them have come to see their boys that are sick. One woman came to see her boy who had tried to desert but was caught and brought back to the regiment and put in the guardhouse. And there is where he was when his mother got here. I would not have been in his place for a $1,000. Oh, I heard the other day that John Briggs had got taken prisoner when he was after Dick, but I don’t hardly believe it. I want you to write and let me know. Write often as you can – all of you. Send us a paper once in a while. I must now close hoping that this letter will find you in as good spirits as it leaves me. From your son, E.A.B.

Monday, [February] the 23, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing

Dear Mother, I am now in our little shanty trying to write a few lines to you and let you know that Eli and myself are well with exceptions of bad colds that came from the effects of having wet feet. The captain has not arrived yet with goods and my old boots are all wore out yet. It has been very wet weather for a few days. I heard today that the Captain was at the landing about three miles from here with a boatload of goods for this regiment. We will get our things tomorrow or next day. Wednesday, [February] 25th, 1863 I will now and try and finish my letter. It was such cold weather when I commenced this letter that we kept in our tents the most of the time. The snow was about 2 feet deep and the wind blew very cold. The Captain has come at last. He arrived here Monday evening about eight o’clock and we were all glad to see him once more. He looks a good deal better than he did when he went away. The things you sent us came through all safe. The boots suit first rate. They feel good. My old boots were all wore out so that I could not go outdoors without getting my feet wet. Well, I should think it was time they was wore out. I have wore them every day and a good many nights. I am going to make my new boots last me till I go home. Eli likes his boots. He says he thinks Steven’s didn’t mean to cheat us in nails. The shirts suit us first rate. Everybody that sees them wants to buy them. We

have had some stewed peaches and currants once and they went first rate. Eli and I got letters from you last night. Eli got one from Clark Fuller. It had been on the way for over five weeks. The letters we got from home came through in five days. That three dollars you sent us came all right. I suppose we could have got along without it as most of the boys have to, but we are glad you sent it. If you ever have a chance to send any more things, send us two or three more papers for we want something to read. Them you sent us come handy to read. It is a pleasant day and the snow goes off very fast. I think it will all go off tomorrow. Just one week ago, last Tuesday, nineteen hundred men from our division went out on picket and it could not have been a worse time. I was among the number. It rained and snowed all the time and my feet were wet all the time. I took some cold but I feel all right now. We were out three days and two nights. When I go out on picket again, I do not think I shall have wet feet. Well, I will now draw my letter to a close. Goodbye from your son, F. A. Blanchard

Saturday, February the 28th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing Dear Father, as I have a few minutes to spare, I will write a few lines to you. It is a dark, cloudy day and it looks as if it was going to storm. We were mustered today for four months pay. The captain says we will get our pay by the 8th of March if we could get our mustering papers in Washington by the second. There was equal a-number of prisoners court marshaled in our brigade. Some of them were to have their heads shaved and drummed out of the service of the United States and have their pay taken away from them. Some were to wear a ball and chain for 60 days. Charlie Root is to wear a ball and chain for 60 days and labor six horns each day. The charge brought against him was that he had hid himself just before going in the battle at Fredericksburg last week. Two of them had their heads shaved and drummed out of camp in the presence of our brigade. I saw all the performance. The barber took every bit of their hair off. They looked some like a baboon. I would not have been in their place for a good deal. Friday, March the 6th I will now try and finish my letter. I do not hardly know what to write. I have had so much to do lately that I have not had time to write. We have to drill twice a day: battalion drill in the forenoon and company drill in the afternoon, besides dress parade at four p.m. And it is quite a job to get wood. We have to bring it about a half a mile. Eli and I are in the same tent. I think it is much more pleasant than it is to have five or six in one tent. I always make the fire in the morning and Eli makes the bed. We take turns cooking. We have meat to cook and coffee to make. We have got a coffee pot and make about two cups apiece. We have beans and rice once in a while. I suppose enlisting or drafting I should have said is going on quite brisk in Michigan. Well, I must go out on dress parade.

Well, I have just come in from dress parade and the col’el says he will take us all home by next September. He says as soon as we get Vicksburg, the rebellion is crushed. I do not think you will send them things by the captain, for I heard the other day that he said he was not going to be burdened with things to take to the regiment. You will likely send them some other way. Well, I do not know as you can read this letter, it is so dirty laying around so much. Goodbye for this time, F. A. Blanchard

Sunday, March 22nd, 1863 Dear Mother, I will now write a few lines to you and let you know that Eli and myself are both well and I hope that these few lines will find you all the same. It has been some time since I got a letter from home and it has been some time since I sent home a letter. The reason that I have not wrote is that I have not had much time. I suppose I could write nights, but I always feel as though I wanted to set down and talk and talk over old times. Sometimes there will [be] two or three come in and then we will have a game of euchre or a game of checkers – anything to pass away time. I just came off from picket. We were out three days and three nights and it rained and snowed about all the time. We had to stand six hours, each one of us on two and off six. The chaplain has been here about two weeks but he did not bring anything – any boxes – with him. I suppose they are in Washington. There is a good many of the boys expecting boxes that the chaplain was to bring. I should think they would be here by this week if they were going to come at all. There has been quite a fire in our camp lately. The colonel cook’s shanty burnt down and all his provisions burnt up with it. He has just got a new supply. While I am writing, someone says that we are going to move within a day or so, but we cannot move over 20 miles before we will come to the enemy. The colonel says that this war is not going to last long. He says that he will take us home by the first of September. He says that he is going home by that time certain. Well, I hope we will get home by that time. It would seem kind a good to go back home once more. If I get back home once more, I don’t think they will get me to enlist again. I think I like my life, my liberty, a little too well to be a soldier. Well, Eli and I have just been to dinner. We had beans, pork, and soft bread. Eli had a letter from Marve the other day and he said that Ernest had taken cold and had been quite sick again but was getting better. Well, I have got to go out on brigade inspection now and I have no more time to write. Give my love to all. Write as soon as you get this. Goodbye for this time, F. A. Blanchard

Wednesday, March the 25th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing, Virginia Dear Mother, It has been some time since I have written a letter home. I should have written before but there has been no news to write about. Everything around here has been so dull and still, and then it has been so muddy and stormy all the time. But it is getting to be a little better weather now and the roads are not quite so bad as they have been. It begins to seem something like spring. The birds and frogs sing about all the time. It is clear and pleasant today and looks as if it was a-going to be fair weather for a spell. I hope so at least. Well, there is some prospects of a move now pretty soon I think, for we have received orders to hold ourselves in readiness within 24 hours notice and they will not let us carry only just so many clothes: they are 2 shirts, 2 pair of drawers, 2 pair of socks, and a blanket. And all the extra clothing that we have we can box up and send to Washington and then if we should get driven back and be obliged to throw away what we did have, we could send to Washington and get them. Franklin and I sent quite a lot off. We sent our overcoats, and 3 woolen blankets apiece, and a rubber one apiece, 2 pair of drawers, 2 shirts, and 2 socks. Well, that box that you sent us last has not got here yet and we have not heard anything from it. I am told that it is lost, but it may not be afterall. I hope not at least. I think that we will move in about a week or 10 days. We have to carry 10 days rations with us. That is 7 days more that we ever had to carry at a time before. I can’t see where we can be a-going with it. It is off in a reconnoitering. Well, I don’t know as I can think of anything more to write at present. Franklin and I are both well with the exceptions of bad colds, but that is nothing uncommon, for the whole regiment has got bad colds. Answer this as soon as you can and I will write again when there is any news to write about. Tell Asa L. that I should be very glad to get a letter from him. I have not had one from him in a long time. It seems that you have not written in a good while, for we have not had a letter from home in 3 weeks and that is a good while for us to wait. Be sure and write soon. Give my love to all. Goodbye. This from your son, Eli A. Blanchard E.A.B.

Friday, March the 27th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing, Virginia Well Father, we received a letter from you and mother last night. It was dated March the 12th. We was glad to hear from you but was sorry to hear that Earny was so sick. I hope that he is a good deal better now. If one of us should be half so sick as he has been I think that we would never get well with no one to take care of us but our doctor. But I trust that we shall not be sick. There is no appearance of it now at any rate, for Franklin and I are as healthy and as well as anyone can be. And the boys throughout the regiment are all

pretty healthy as a general thing. We all feel first rate and enjoy ourselves the same. We play at ball the most of the time when we are not on duty and it does not storm. So you see that we must feel well or we would not fool around so much. Well, we are having a few days of pleasant weather down here now. This morning is as nice and pleasant as any I ever saw in Michigan and what makes it seem so much pleasanter down here than it would is the river. The wood are getting cleared up so that we can see up and down the river for 3 or 4 miles, and there is lots of steamboats, sail vessels, and gunboats to be seen all the while. The little gunboats look like logs in the water. They don’t look as if they could do much damage they are so small. Well, I think that if we work this matter right now that this war will not last long, and 2 or 3 more victories on our side will wind the matter up. But if we should fail to win them, there is no knowing how long it may last. The Army of the Potomac are determined to do the best that they can to bring it to a speedy close. We have made up our minds that it never can be settle[d] any other way than by fighting, and the quicker that we finish the job up the better. I don’t know but what I shall take a gun and let the drumming go. I should get a dollar more a month and it would not be much harder. But I have not made up my mind whether I shall or not. I don’t know but what they will make us all take one anyway, for they have discharged all of the small drummers under 18 years of age and kept the rest of us, and the report is that we have got to take guns. I don’t much care whether I take one or not. If I do, I shall try and do my duty with it. Well, I have written all that I can think of now and I shall have to close. Answer this as soon as you can and tell Asa L. to write to me. Give my best respects to all enquiring friends and write soon. Goodbye. This from your son, Eli A. Blanchard

[Monday], March the 30th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing

Dear Father, it has been some time since I wrote you a letter, and now I will try and write you a few lines. It is a stormy day. It commenced to snow last night about twelve but turned into rain this morning. It looks as if it would rain all day. It is a tough time for the boys that are out on picket. I did not have to go out on picket this last time, only the dirty ones and them that had dirty guns had to go. Ten from our company went. Charlie Gaffney and Pat his brother were among the number. We were to have a review last Saturday by General Hooker but it did not come off for it rained all day long. We were all some disappointed for we wanted to see General Hooker. Last Sunday evening we were all called out to see Governor Morton from the state of Indiana. He favored us with a few remarks. He said that we had not been in the service as long as some but we had been in long enough to show that we were brave men and good soldiers. He said that this war could not last but a few months longer and then we could return to our homes and friends, but I think it will be a good while before we can return to our friends and homes. I think

likely we will have a good deal of marching to do this summer, but we cannot march over 30 miles without coming onto the enemy. They are on the other side of the river at Fredericksburg, more strongly fortified than they were when we attacked them last December. The battle commenced on the 11 of December and on my birthday. I suppose that we will have to have another battle there in the course of a month or so. I do not think that we will stay in this place over ten days for there is a good deal of talk of our moving, and when we do move we are to carry ten days rations. We will have to carry seven days rations in our knapsacks for we cannot carry but three days rations in our haversacks. I do not much think we will get them things that you sent by the chaplain. I expect that they are in Washington waiting for transportation. There is a good many more in the same fix that we are. Well, I suppose that we will be about as well off without them, but I should liked to have got the shirts. We may get them yet. I hope that Ernest is about well by this time. He has been sick a good while. There is some talk of our getting paid off this week but there is now knowing we have been fooled. So much that I do not believe more than half I hear. Well, I will not write any more at present as Eli says he wants to write a few lines. Goodbye, Franklin Blanchard

Well Father, as Franklin has not quite finished this sheet I told him that I would write a few lines. There is but little news to write and I guess that Franklin has written all of it that is of any consequence. Well, Franklin and I are both well and all right. Franklin is fleshier than I am and I guess that he weighs more than I do, although I weigh 173 lbs. When we get our pay, which I hope will not be long, we are going to get our likenesses taken to send to you and then you can see how we look. It costs $1.00 a piece to get them taken. I want you to get your likenesses taken and send to us. Get them taken on a plate and send them in a letter without the cases on. It has been raining very hard today but has stopped and cleared up and is very pleasant. The snow was about 5 inches deep this morning but has all gone off now. Well, I have not got room to write any more. Tell Asa L. that if he don’t write to me pretty soon I shall write to him again. Write to us as often as you can. This from your son, E. A. Blanchard

April, Friday the 10th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain Landing, Virginia Dear Mother, We received your letters from home last night; one from you and one from Father. We was very sorry to hear that Earnest had been sick again. We thought that he must be about well by this time and the news of his being worse came very unexpected. I hope that he will not have anymore pullbacks. I think if he does that he will never get over it, but I am in hopes now as you say that he will get well . If he does not, I don’t think that I

shall ever care about coming home again. It would make it seem so lonesome. You wanted to know why we did not write oftener. You say that there was 3 weeks that you never got a letter from us. I think it strange myself that you have not had them oftener for we have sent a letter out as often as once a week, and sometimes 3 a week. We generally calculate to send 2 home a week. You and Father both wrote in your letters something about my getting a discharge and if I was not wanted as a musician any longer that you wanted me to come home. I don’t think that I can come home until the regiment does, but I know that they can’t put me in the ranks until I am mustered out of the service and then they could not put me in the ranks without they conscript me and they could not do it then until that law takes affect in our county. The capt. got that letter last night that Father wrote to him and he told me to tell him that he did not have power to give me my discharge or to put me in the ranks either, and he says that he don’t think that anyone can put me in the ranks. He [says] that they will keep us here as long as the regiment and they can’t make us do any duty, only what we are a mind to do. I have not done 3 weeks work since I have been to this camp. I see in your letter that you do not want me to go into the ranks, so I guess that I will stay where I am or I may hire out to some sutler. I might as well do that as to be doing nothing and I might be making a little by it. The capt. said that if he thought he could get my discharge he would try but he has not got the power to do anything for me he would in a minute. There is Web Wood and 2 others that are in the same fix and whatever they do with one they will have to do with all in the same way. Well, Franklin and I are both well and feel first rate. We are both in tip top order and health too, and the boys in the com. are very healthy here. This spring George Fox is promoted to orderly seargent. I hope that them fish hooks will get here pretty soon for this the nicest king of weather to fish in. I must now stop writing and I hope that this letter will find Earny a great deal than he was when you wrote last. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

April the 16th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing Dear Father, I will now write you a few lines, as it will likely be some time before you hear from me again. We expect to go away from this place in a day or two. I do not know where we are going, but the general opinion is that we are going to Fredericksburg. We have got to carry eight days rations with us; five in our knapsack and three in our haversack. We were going to move yesterday but it rained all day and we did not go. I think that it will put a stop to our moving for a day or two. Eli will not march with us. He has gone to stay with the teams a week or two, so when we march he will not have anything to carry. The teams will carry his things. Besides, too, he will not be in battle. He need not have gone with the teams if he had not wanted to, but he can come back any time he wants to. I received a letter from you last night and was glad to hear that Ernest is getting better. Well, there is no news to write. Everything seems to be quiet. Charlie

Gaffney and his brother, Pat, had a fight this morning. Pat came out bully and then Charlie commenced swearing and then our first lieutenant told him to go to his tent but he swore he would not. Then our lieutenant ordered two men with guns to take him to the guardhouse and they marched him off. I think it is the first fight that we have had in our company since we have been down here. I wrote a letter to Asa L. the other day. I wrote all about how we got our things. The shirts were all right, the rotten apples did not hurt them any. I think they are better shirts than the others were. I will not write any more at present, for I do not know what to write. When we get to marching there will be plenty to write. Franklin Blanchard P.S. One of our battery boys has just come over and he says that we have got orders to march tomorrow morning.

April the 20th, 1863 Camp Near Belle Plain’s Landing Dear Mother, we received three letters from home last Saturday. One of them had yours and Father’s likenesses, they look very natural. Eli and I are going to get ours taken when we get paid off. I guess that we will get paid off this week. It will cost a dollar apiece to get them taken. I think that they charge enough. I guess that we will not have any more cold weather here this spring. We have had some very warm days. The hills begin to look green and so are the trees. Peach trees were in blossom the 15th of this month. I went a- fishing yesterday with a hook and line. I went down the river. The shore was lined with soldiers. Some of them were fishing and some were in swimming and some were down to see them fish with a seine, the seine belonged to the First Brigade. We have got a seine in our brigade but I have not been out with it yet, and I do not think I shall for it is hard work to fish with a seine, and then I should not like to go in the water up to my neck as they have to. I caught enough with a hook for two meals. I suppose that you have fresh fish by this time. Our whole division were going out on review yesterday but it commenced raining and we did not get a great ways before we turned around and went back to our camp. You must tell Aunt Hannah that she must answer my letter and then I will write her another. I always answer her letters as soon as I get them. We do not hear much news here now days, but there is some prospect of our having a fight right here on our own campgrounds with the rebs. I think that they are getting starved out and they have got to do something pretty soon or less knock under. We have already commenced fortifying but I do not much think they will come. But if they should come, we want to be ready for them. I do not know as I can write anything more that would be interesting to you so I will draw my letter to a close. F. A. Blanchard

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April the 21st, 1863 Dear Parents, Franklin has just been writing a letter to you and I told him that I would write a few lines. Franklin and I are better than ever. I hope that this will find you the same. We both feel very much worried about Earnest. I am afraid that he is not getting along well. I dream about him most every night. If he should die, I should never [think] about coming home again. It would make it seem so lonesome. But we hope that he will soon be well and all right again. I don’t think that I can get my discharge. I am working with the wagons now. The col. thinks that he can get us in the brass band before long. I hope he will. I shall write to you again as soon as I get time. Goodbye, E. A. B.

[Sunday], April the 26th, 1863 Camp near Belle Plain’s Landing Dear Father, I now sit down to write you a few lines and let you know that we are both well and to let you know what the 24th has been doing since I write to you last. We have been all ready to march with light days rations for three weeks or more but still we are in our old camp yet and I should not wonder if we would be here three weeks longer. We may not be here all the time but if we do go away, we can come back again. We can do as we done the other day. One day last week, I forget what day it was, we were ordered to about twelve o’clock to put three days rations in our haversacks, take our guns, and our equipments, and 60 rounds of cartridges, and our blankets, and march fifteen minutes. No one knew where we were going, but it was hinted around that we were going to Port Royal on the other side of the river. When we had got 10 miles from camp, the colonel told us where we were going. He said that we were going to Port Royal on the other side of the river and would probably have a little fight. And we were going 15 miles further that night, which would take us to the river, and in the morning, we would cross over in pontoons. There was only two regiments of us: the 24th Michigan and the 14th Brooklyn. They were picked regiments. We had one cannon. Well, we traveled until about 10 o’clock that night and then laid down to get a little sleep before morning. A little before daybreak, it commenced raining and it looked as if it would rain all day, but that did not prevent us from our purpose. The pontoons had come up but we had them to put together, but that did not take long. They were soon put together and we then put them on our shoulders and took them down to the river. Then there was 20 men detailed from each company to go across the river. I was not detailed to go and I was glad of it, for it was raining like sixty. Those that did not go over went into some old houses to keep out of the rain but where we could look out and see the boats. And we could see the rebel cavalry on the other side. But when our boats had got about half ways across, the cavalry broke and run. Our men landed in safety and running all through the town after the rebs. We took 11 men, and quite a number of mules, and horses, and three wagons loaded with wheat. The wheat and wagons we set fire to and burnt up. The horses and mules we brought back with us. After the boats had come back, those that did not go over wanted to

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go over. So the most went back. There was no one there but women and children and niggers. We stayed a little while and then came back, but not before we had broke into a store and took out a good many things. We had a hard time getting back home, for it had rained so much that it was very muddy. We got our pay yesterday and I will send home my check in this letter. Eli will write and send his tomorrow. I will send you my likeness. It is not taken very good, but he could not spend time to have me sit again for there was about 500 waiting. Goodbye, F. A. Blanchard

Saturday morning, May 2nd, 1863 Dear Father, I will write you a few lines to let you know I am all right. We crossed the river last Wednesday morning about eight o’clock in pontoon. We crossed about four miles below Fredericksburg. The Second Wisconsin and the 24 Michigan were the first to cross. We had a sharp fight before we got across. They commenced firing at us before we got to the river. We returned the fire and advanced down to the river. The balls fell like hail all around us but that did not check us. We got into the pontoons and it was not long before we were climbing up the bank. The rebs were in rifle pits but they soon got out of them and ran. But there was not many of them that got far, for our boys gave it to them right and [ripped out]. We were not over five minutes in crossing we took 200 prisoners. There was about 50 killed and wounded on our side. Eli is with the wagons so he is all right. There has not been any killed in our company. While I am writing I can hear them fighting on our right. There will be some hard fighting today. [Friday] the eight I am all right so far and so is Eli. We have had a hard battle. I have not got time to write anymore before the mail goes out. I will write again today as tomorrow. F. A. Blanchard

Friday, May the 8th, 1863

Dear Father, I now have an opportunity to write you a few lines, the first that I have had since the battle. We had to fight eight days the hardest battle that has ever been fought on the continent. The battle commenced last week, Wednesday. We attacked the rebs in two places below and above Fredericksburg. Our division was on the left and our division general is Wadsworth. In the first place, we went up to the river – this was early in the morning – and when we could see a reb we would pop him over. And some of us got popped over. We did not have a very good chance to see them, for they were in their rifle

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pits. After a while, we retreated back and rested about an hour, and then the colonel told us that we had got to cross the river in open boats and storm their rifle pits. We were to cross in open boats. Well, we went down to the river double quick and gave them a volley and then we fired, just as we were a mind to, till we got to the boats. We had stonewall to go over before we got to the boats. When we got to that, how the bullets and buckshot did whistle around us! Some of our men were killed getting over this. Well, we went down to the boats and then got in and when we had got half way ‘cross, the gray backs commenced to run. We took 200 prisoners. Our lieutenant and four of us took 10 of them at one time. I was one of the four. There was two lieutenants. They gave up their swords to our first lieutenant. The next day we throwed up breastworks. The next day and all night, our company was on picket and we did not sleep any all night. And when we came off from picket, we had to go right to work throwing up entrenchments. That day, they shelled us some. Two were killed and some wounded. The next morning we had to come back across the river and go up the river about 15 miles to reinforce Hooker. When we got to where Hooker was, they were fighting. It was a continued roar of musketry all the time for four hours and a half. We all expected to go right into the fight but we were held back as reserves. When the firing had ceased, Hooker came along. Some of the regiment cheered him and some did not. Our regiment cheered him and he rode up to our colonel and shook hands with him, and says he, “I believe these are the Port Royal boys,” and passed on. I think that you know more about the battle now than I do. You take the papers and we have none. They are not allowed to be sold. Well, I think that our regiment has been very lucky this time. I think that the rebs got a pretty good thrashing this time if we did have to come back across the river again. Eli is well and so am I, never felt better. I will write again soon, F. Blanchard

Monday, May the 11th, 1863 Dear Brother, I received a letter from you some time ago but I have not had time to answer it until now. When I got your letter, I was on the battlefield. It was at this time that the battle seemed to rage the hardest. The enemy was trying to break our lines. The roar of the cannons and the volley of musketry seemed to make everything tremble and it was kept up for four hours and a half. I expected every minute when we would be ordered to the front, but we were kept back for reserves. The enemy were repulsed every time except once during the seven days fight and that was the time that the 11th Army Corps run. But the 12th Army Corps drove the rebs back again and took the ground that the 11th Corps had lost. We took a great number of prisoners. Some of them would run into our lines and give themselves up. It was a hard matter to make the rebs fight. They had to give them double rations of whiskey. Their officers had to shoot a good many of the

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privates to make the rest fight. Our men never fought better. I think that a few more such fights would use them up. I do not think that they have much to eat, for when we crossed the river below Fredericksburg, the barracks that we found only had some hard biscuit without any salt in them. I tasted of one of them and I could not go it. I do not see how they can live. It may be that they had lived without eating much. If that is the case, we might as well give up as licked. But I think that they will come to terms by next fall. When we crossed the river below Fredericksburg, the rebs would come up to us and shake hands with us and say, “How are you, boys?” and say that they were glad to see us. They said that they had been looking for us a good while. When we were across the river above Fredericksburg to reinforce Hooker, our scouts brought in a little boy eight years old. When I saw him, he was crying to go back to his mother and sister. He said that he was looking for the cows, but we did not know but what he might be a spy. Our colonel was gone when they brought him in. He said that he did not mean any harm and says he, “Do you really think the colonel will let me go home when he comes back?” I felt sorry for him and told him I thought he would. When the colonel came back, he let him go to his mother. When you write again, send me some postage stamps for I have not got one. I will send you a rebel postage stamp that I picked up on the battlefield. Goodbye for this time, Franklin A. Blanchard

[Sunday], May the 17, 1863 Camp near Falmouth, VA Dear Aunt, I received your letter last Saturday dated the 10 and I was glad to hear from you. You say that Freddy has been sick. I knew that something was the matter or you would have answered my letter before you did. You must have had a hard time of it without a girl to do your work. It has been some time since I had any letters from our folks, but I think that I shall get one tonight. You said that our folks were going to write the next day after you wrote to me. Eli and I are both well. Eli stays with the wagons and so does all the fifers and drummers. When we got into battle, they are out of all danger. They all stay in the rear with the wagons. If they get into a place where they can hear the bullets whistle, they get off as fast as they can. I know that they did in this last fight. They were where they could hear a few bullets and our wagon master was most scared to death. At any rate, he nearly run his horses to death to get out of the way of the bullets. We put him in wing of it sometimes, but he does not like to hear anything about it. A week ago last Saturday was about as tough a time as we have had lately of the whole army. Across the river below Fredericksburg, when the 11 Army Corps broke and run, we were then ordered to go on the extreme right to reinforce Hooker. It was a long ways and I never knew it to be much warmer, but we had to go. We had eight days rations to carry besides our clothing. Every man done his best to keep up. Some threw away their blankets, and shirts, overcoats, and other things too numerous to mention. I hung to

104 everything that I had but my dress coat. I should not have throwed that away, but I had a blouse coat and it is all the coat that I want this warm weather. Well, we got to where the 11th Corps had broke and run on Sunday morning. The fighting was going on very severe when we got there. I expected that we would be ordered to the front, but were kept that day for reserves. I think that our regiment [came] out pretty safe. Four killed and six wounded. Write as soon as you can. Franklin A. Blanchard

Sunday May the 17th, 1863 Camp near the Rappahannock River Dear Parents, I now sit myself down to write you a few lines. I haven’t sent home a letter in a good while, although I have written 3. I wrote 2 at the time of the battle and the one that had my check in I wrote before we left winter quarters. The chaplain was expecting to go to Washington with it. He was going to take a good deal of money for the boys, but he did not go as we expected and had kept our money ever since until yesterday when he gave them back to us. I wonder why he did not give it to us before? I presume that you have given yourselves a good deal of easiness about it because it has not come before but it will come all right this time for I shall send it right through by mail and not trust it to him again. Those 2 letters that I wrote at the time of the battle got lost. I would not have lost them for considerable. The way of it was the teams were on this side of the river and I had to go across to carry some rations to the boys, and while I was gone the team moved and they did not see the 2 letters that lay inside of the tent when they packed it up. Well, we had a pretty big fight over these the other day. I think that the rebs got the worst of it if we did have to re-cross the river. I am sure that they lost 3 men. Right where I had to go through with the teams I never thought that I should see 100th part as many dead men as I see then. The ground was covered with them. Well, our company came out all right and not a man killed in it, but some had rather close calls. The bullets flew mighty fast for a while. Franklin came out all sound. He said that he felt rather skittish when they first begun to shoot, but when they begun to come so fast he did not care a snap for them. I hope that our com. will not lose any more men, for they lost enough in the first fight. We are now laying about two miles from the Rappahannock. The regiment goes down there on picket about once a week. We on one bank and they on the other, and both go in a-swimming together. They change papers with each other and trade tobacco for coffee, sugar, or salt which they have not got. Well, Stonewall Jackson is killed and I am glad of it. He was the best fighting general that they had. I saw a general that we captured that was on his staff. They took him the same time that Jackson was shot. My check is a $44 one. If I should have had $ left when got paid off but I owed the sutler 3 dollars and so I did not have but one dollar. But I have been speculating some and have

105 got plenty of money so you need not send me any. I shall try and get my likeness taken in a few days and send it home. Answer this soon as you can. Give my respects to all. Goodbye from you son, Eli A. Blanchard

Camp near Falmouth, VA Tuesday May the 26th, 1863 Dear Parents, I received 2 letters from you yesterday. Mother’s was dated the 12th, yours was dated the 17th. I was glad to hear that you were all well. Franklin and I are both well and enjoying good health. I was a little under the weather for 2 or 3 days about a week ago, but I am all right now and well as ever. Well, there is not much a-going on about camp now for the brigade has all gone down the river on a reconnoitering expedition about 40 miles from here and there is but a few men for camp guard. We have not heard from them but once since they started. We sent 3 days rations down to them on 40 pack mules and when they came back with the mules, they said that the boys were having the finest kind of a time. They said that there were lots of chickens, eggs, and fresh pork and the boys were not at all bashful about helping themselves. They said that the boys did not take more than half of their rations and they all felt happy as larks and would like to stay down there all summer. I don’t know whether they will cross the river or not. If they do, I guess that they will have some pretty hot fun. They started to cross once but some rebel cavalry came down to the river when they had got about half way across and they sculled back again. The way of it was they saw a large boat on the other side. They took a small boat and started to go across to bring the big boat over so that they could take a good many men at a time. But their cavalry came down and they had to go back. I don’t know when they will come but I should think that they would be here in the course of 2 or 3 days. It will be a week tomorrow since they went out. They got one rebel colonel since they left. They brought him in with the pack mules. He was a very nice looking sort of a chap. I don’t see how that they happened to get him, but I guess that he must have come over to see and we nabbed him. I don’t see how else it could have been. Well, we have just got the glorious news here that Vicksburg is ours and that the stars and stripes float over that precious city. It was encouraging news for us. We were glad to hear that we were blessed with victory once more. I think that if this is all true that this war will not last a great while longer and that we will all be home by next winter. You wrote in one of your letters something about my getting a discharge. You wanted to know if I had tried for one lately. No, I have not asked for one at all for I do not think that I should get one if I did. I have got a good easy place down here and my work is not hard,

106 and I think that I ought to be satisfied where I am when I have it so easy. I’m not in any danger for the wagons are always kept back in the rear and I think that it would look better to stay and come home with the rest of the boys. Well, I guess that you must have got my check by this time for I sent it over a week ago. We have been having some very warm weather down here for the past week but it has changed and is quite cool now. I shall get my likeness taken to send to you in the next letter that I write. I have heard of a place about 2 miles off where they take them and I am going there one day this week to see if I can get it taken. Answer this soon as you can. Asa L., you must write too. Good bye. This from your son, Eli A. Blanchard

[Thursday] morning, May the 28th, 1863 Camp near Falmouth, VA Dear Mother, I will now answer your letter that I received a few days ago. Eli and myself are both well and in good spirits. We have been through a good deal since I wrote to you last. We were on picket the other day on the banks of the Rappahannock. It was about 20 rods across the river and the reb pickets and our pickets would talk to one another. We asked them how long this war was going to last and they said it would last just as long as we came down here to fight them. I told them if that was the case then this war would last till we’re all gray-bearded. Some of our boys would swim half way across and trade sugar and coffee for tobacco. We traded some of our papers for theirs. A week ago yesterday, this brigade was sent out on a reconnoitering expedition a distance of 100 and 50 miles. We took three days rations in our haversacks. We did not take our knapsacks, only a blanket, our arms, and 60 rounds of cartridges. The first day it was extremely warm. The boys, some of them were sun-struck. Our captain was taken sick and fell down while he was marching. But we had just so far to go that day, a distance of thirty miles or more. We had to put oak leaves in our caps to keep from being sun-struck. There was a great many that fell out that day. I fell out to rest for one. I suppose that I could go as long as I got breath in my body. But I will always fall out when I think that I can’t stand it no longer. If a man does not look out for himself here, nobody else will. The other day when I stopped to rest I was up with the regiment again in a few hours. The place where we went was down to the Chesapeake Bay. Some of our cavalry pickets were down there and the rebs had come across the river and had got our pickets surrounded and we went down there to get them out of the scrape but the rebs had about all left but we got a few. One of them was a rebel colonel. I did not go all the way. I was detailed to build a bridge with a few others and then we had to guard it after we had got it built. It was a bridge that the rebs had burnt. This was called Mattox Bridge. It is not a very large stream but it is very deep and steamboats has run up it. There was small boats there and we would go out fishing and take boat rides. About the only kind of fish that we got was eels. The people down where we went, they said that we would never whip the south. We told them that

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we would whip the south if it took thirty years. The farmers down there were well off. They had large fields of corn, wheat, and rye. We had all the hocakes and biscuits we wanted. We had milk, eggs, ham, butter, honey, chickens, ducks, and turkeys, and we did not have to pay for them either. We would go and milk the cows and go and take the honey out of the hives. I went out one morning before breakfast with two more in search of chickens. We could not get but one chicken and one duck, but on our way back, we came across some turkeys. We drove them up to the fence and I was found to have the old gobbler. So when I got up to him I run my bayonet through him and then I took a knife and cut his head off. We took them up to the bridge, dressed them, got a kettle and boiled them, and we had a good dinner. There was sixteen of us and we ate them all up. We were gone six days from camp. Write as soon as you get this, Franklin A. Blanchard P.S. We will get our pay today or tomorrow. The paymaster is here now.

[Sunday], May the 31st, 1863 Camp near Falmouth, VA Dear Father, I will now write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well. Eli is well, too. He went to Falmouth with some of the teamsters today to get some mules. He has just got back. They had quite a time getting here. They are not broke very well. We got paid off again yesterday for two months. I will send you my check of 20 dollars in this letter. I think that Eli will send his check off today. He said that he must write a letter. I wish that you would see about that package that you sent by the captain. Lewis Harland says that his father paid the captain for bringing them through. I think that it will be two dollars that you will have to pay John Harland. We have had some very warm weather down here lately, and we have not had any rain in some time, and the roads are very dusty. There is a great many roads in Virginia. There is no fences. They have all been taken for firewood, and there is no more timber to make rails of. But there is fences where our army has not been. When we got down by King George’s courthouse the other day there was good fences and the crops looked well. They all seemed to have enough to eat and I believe that we had enough to eat while we were down there. We were gone six days from camp and we lived on the top shelf all the time. The people were all for Jeff Davis and we had no respect for them. What they would not give us we would take without their giving it to us. We saw some good-looking girls and they would call us damned Yankees. They wanted to know what we were all down here fighting for. We told them we were fighting for the old flag and we were willing to fight thirty years rather than have the south whip. They thought if it lasted that long they never would live to see the end of it. They said that they were sick of it. While we were down there we got about eight hundred mules and horses and about as many wagons and buggies and old cars, and

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all of them loaded with something. We got about six hundred negro women and children. They were all taken to Belle Plain Landing and shipped for Washington. When they got on the boat they all commenced singing. They all felt so tickled because they were going to be free. Governor Blair of Michigan was here the other day and made us a speech – and he made a good one. He thinks this war [is] about to close. Well, we have been told so a good many times, and I hope it is for certain this time. Franklin A. Blanchard

Thursday morning, June the 18th, 1863 Camp near Centreville, VA Dear Mother, we left our old camp last Friday morning and have been marching ever since, all but one day. The order came at three o’clock for us to march last Friday morning. We marched all day and it was very warm. There was a good many fell out. There was not a great many of the boys but what had blistered feet but we had to go on picket that same night. The next day we marched till night and then we had to march all night. It was a bad road to get over and we did not get but four miles. We rested five hours in the morning and then marched until we came to Bull’s Run. We stayed there all night and the next day. It is the strongest place that I ever saw. There is great large breastworks that the rebs made at the two Bull’s Run fights. The creek is only a small stream, about like Springer’s. Yesterday we marched all day. The sun shone very hot. Some of the men fell down dead in the ranks, but none out of our regiment. I stand it first rate and so does Eli. He is with the wagons. The regiment has not had any mail for five days and I have not had any letters for a long time. While I am writing, the [order] has just come to move and I shall have to close my letter. Goodbye. Franklin A. Blanchard

Thursday, July the 2, 1863 Dear Mother, I am now in Littletown, Pennsylvania. I have been in one of the hottest engagements that you very often read of. I came off from the field very lucky. I got a flesh wound in my right hand with two buckshot. As soon as I got wounded I fell back to the rear ten miles. Two of my fingers are stiff but not so but what I can write some. Eli is all right. I think that over half of our brigade and there is not many left in our company. Lewis Harland is killed- shot through the head. I was standing by his side when he fell. Our colonel I think is killed- shot in the head. Flanigan got his leg off. They were falling all around me when I left. I had my canteen shot off and one ball went through my haversack and broke up my hardtack and broke my knife all to pieces. My hand will be

109 well in a few days and I shall go back to my company. So when you direct your letters, direct them as you always do. I lost my knapsack and all my postage stamps. You may send me some of them and a little money. Write as soon as you get this. I was in the fight twice yesterday. Both of our flag bearers was shot. I think that there will be a big fight tomorrow. Goodbye for this time, Franklin A. Blanchard

1st Division Hospital Near Gettysburg, Penn. July the 5th, 1863 Dear Parents, It has now been two[days] since we have had any fighting to amount to anything about here, and all of us that can be spared from the regiment are here taking care of the wounded. I came here day before yesterday and have been at work the best that I know how ever since. I have not seen Franklin yet. He is not at the same hospital that I am and I have to be here all the time to take care of some of the rest of the boys of our regiment. He has only got a slight wound in the hand and can help himself a great deal. I believe that he was hit in the right hand near his knuckle. They did not think that he would lose any of his fingers and will probably be all right in a few days. He may come home, for he was taken prisoner and paroled, and he may not be exchanged in a long time, and he may get a furlough to come home for a while. I believe that all of the wounded that live in the adjoining states are to be sent home where their folks can take care of them. The wounded in this hospital are all in very comfortable condition and seem to be doing first rate. Our regimental doctors were taken prisoners where Franklin was and are now probably at the same hospital for I have not seen any of them since the fight. There is about 50 of our regiment wounded here in this hospital and I do not know where the rest of them are. Our reg’t went into the fight with 517 guns and came out with 90. There has [been] a few stragglers come in since and we have got 115 men for duty at the present time. I don’t see how in the world that our men got off without killing them all. They charged on us with 3 lines of battle and we had but one to meet them with. That was the time when they took the city, but we have got it back again all right and our wounded will probably be moved down there in a few days and then I shall probably see Franklin again. Well, yesterday was the 4th and such a one I never expected to see. I suppose that you had great times at home little knowing what was going on down here. We had pretty sorrowful times here. The wounded were being removed from the city and the field where they had lain since the first day our wounded prisoners has not all been taken care of yet. We have taken an immense sight of prisoners. We have got [a] ten-acre field nearly full of them that are not wounded.

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I have not got time to write any more at present but shall write again soon. Write to us often as you can. Goodbye. This from your son, Eli A. Blanchard This in great haste. I am well as ever.

1st Division Hospital Gettysburg, PA July 24, 1863 Dear Parents, It has been some time since I have received any letters from you and I have not heard from Franklin but once since the battle, and then he was at the West Philadelphia Hospital and doing well. I heard, by the way, of a man by the name of Shearer – a man from Mich. – and he came from there, here. He said that he had a slight wound and was doing well. You, of course, have heard from him before this time. I wish that I could go where he was and then I could take care of him, but there is a good many that need to be taken care of as bad as he does, and I am probably doing more good here than I would be there. We have moved from where we was in the country into the city. I am at the express office where our doctor stops. We have a large house full of them, and the most of them are pretty bad cases. Nearly all of them have some of their limbs off. It is getting to be rather unhealthy here now and we lose a patient about every day. If it was not for the bad smell around here, we should not have lost half so many as we do. Well, we live very well down here at present. We have soft bread and butter almost every meal, and besides that, we have a good table to eat at. Our brass band is all here, too, and we all do duty in the same hospital. They go downtown every night and serenade the other hospitals. They want me to join the band and I don’t know but what I shall if we go to the regiment pretty soon. But the doctor says that he don’t think that we will go before September. I don’t much care whether we do or not. If we stay here, we shall not have any hard marching to do and I guess that it would be full as easy here as it would be there. There is quite a good many wounded out of the 24th here in the city. I think that there is more from our regiment than any other. Well, it is getting late and I must close. When you answer this letter, please send me a few postage stamps and a dollar or two in money, as I am out of both and I shall not be at the reg’t to get my pay when they get paid off. Please write soon. Goodbye. Address E. A Blanchard, Express Office Hospital, Gettysburg, PA

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“Satterlee U. S. A. General Hospital, West Philadelphia, PA., 1863” Wednesday the 29th, Dear Mother, I am still at West Philadelphia and my hand is not well yet. I begin to feel pretty well again. I was hard up for a few days. I was not used to being kept so close. I did not have any appetite, but I have a good appetite now. I went out on a pass yesterday. I went down to the city and got on a streetcar and rode through the city. I went down to the river. It is called the Delaware River. I have not had any letters from Eli and I don’t get any from home either. I have only had one since I have been here but I may get one tonight. If I don’t get pretty soon I shall begin to think you are all dead. I have written several letters home lately. I wrote one to Asa L. two or three days ago. I wrote several letters, two to father and two to you. Some of our boys has got letters from the regiment. They were in Warrington, VA. The boys were all in good spirits. I wish that I was with them, but I suppose it will be some time before I shall be with the regiment. It may be two month or more before we go to our regiments. We have got to go to Washington, and from there to the Convalescent Camp. We have a great many visitors on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. No visitor is allowed on Sundays. It is getting to be about supper time. We most always have bread and dried applesauce and tea. Today noon we had beans. I wouldn’t care if they would have them every meal. Yesterday morning we had what they call hash, but it stunk so that we could not eat it. The applesauce that we get does not have any sugar in it. The best thing that they have is soup. Sometimes we get about a pound of butter for fifty men. Well, the mail has just came in, but no letter for me. The mail comes in twice a day at noon and at night. When you write, write all the news. Is there any hopes of Mary Sowthick dying? She may be dead now for all I know. If she is I think it will be a good thing for the neighborhood. I used to go into her house sometimes to hear her talk. She used to say that she saved my life once but at the same time she said it was a pity I had not died. I think it will be a pity if she don’t die now. I think it would be a good deal less expensive to Smith, for I know that she used to eat an awful sight. Do you hear anything from Frank? Let me know the next letter you write. I should like to hear how he is getting along. While I am writing, a man comes in drunk. He is on his bed now. He has fell off once. He flourishes his fists around and talks like a fool. The guard has just come in and taken him to the guard house. I haven’t drinked any whiskey since I have been here nor I don’t expect to drink any. I don’t think there is but few but what use tobacco or drink whiskey. I will not write any more at present, so goodbye, Franklin A. Blanchard

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Friday, August the 7th, 1863 Dear Mother, I will now write you a few lines and let you know that I am going on guard here at this hospital, West Philadelphia. I was examined and I was put down to go on guard. I think on the whole, I had rather go on guard than go back to the regiment. I shall not have any hard marching to do and besides, I shall not have to go into any fights. You may direct your letters as you have done along back Ward W, United States General Hospital, West Philadelphia. I got a letter from Eli today. He is at Gettysburg, PA at the express office hospital. He says he never enjoyed himself better. His health is first rate. Him and Web Wood are together. Eli says he helps the doctors. He says that he helped the doctor take a man’s leg off the other day. I am going to write to Eli today. You may tell Aunt Hannah that she can write to me now. You can tell her where I am. I wrote to her the other day. I hope that you are all well. It has been very warm here for the past few days and the wounded are not doing as well as they was. One man out of the 24 that was here wounded died last Wednesday. His name was Harris. I will not write any more at present, but I want you to write to me as soon as you get this. Goodbye, Franklin Blanchard

Tuesday, August the 25th Dear Mother, I will now write a few lines to you. I am well and enjoying life. I am not on duty today, so I have all day to myself. We all get 24 hour passes every other day and we have to stand guard every other day – two hours on and four hours off. We have more duty to do than we would have to do in the regiment, but we don’t have any hard marching to do and we get our meals cooked for us. We get the same as the patients. I got a letter from Eli the other day. He was well at the time he wrote. I got a letter from the regiment the other day at the – I got the letter they were on the other side of the Rappahannock but I heard the other day that they were at Washington waiting for transportation to go to Charleston but I don’t know how true it is. If I should ever go in my regiment again I would like to join it somewhere besides in Virginia. I don’t never want to go into that state again. I have traveled hundreds of miles in Virginia and I think that the inhabitants are about as low-lived set of people as I ever saw. You can travel for miles and not see a house, and when you do see one, it is one of those old-fashioned houses with a brick fireplace. And they have their chimneys built on the outside of the house, and enough brick in one of them to build a common-size brick house. They never have any stoves. I suppose that they don’t know what a stove is, yet they think that we don’t know anything. They think that they know it all. I think that they are a hundred years behind times. We have funerals here most every day. There is a funeral sermons preacher. There is no one but the guard present when the sermon is preached. When you write again, you may send me a little money if you are a mind to. I expect to get paid off in about a month. You may think that I have been using money rather freely. Well, I

113 don’t know but what I have. But the way some of them spend money is a caution. Some of them never send anything home. I will write no more at present. Goodbye, Franklin A. Blanchard

Thursday, August the 27th, 1863 Dear Father, as I have got a few minutes to spare, I will write a few lines to you. I am well and good spirits and I hope that these few lines will find you all the same. I have not had a letter from home in a long time. Before you get this letter, I shall no doubt be back to the regiment again. They are sending all of the old guards away to their regiments. We start tomorrow morning. I presume that we will go to the Convalescent Camp in Alexandria before we go to the regiment. We may stay there some time and we may go right on. I will write to you as soon as I get to the regiment. I am not sorry that I am going. I have been on guard every other day since I came on guard, and when I am in the regiment I shan’t have to go on guard, only once a week. I wrote to you to send me some money. You have most likely sent it by this time. I shall leave an order with one of the boys to get my letters at the post office and he will send them to the regiment. I wrote to Eli today. He says he is well the last letter I had from him. I have got my knapsack packed and ready to start tomorrow. I will write no more at present.

Franklin Blanchard

Tuesday September the 1, 1863 Convalescent Camp, VA

Dear Father, I am well and in good spirits. Well, I am on the disputed soil once more, in old Virginia. Ever try [to] stick a hocake on your foot and hold it to the fire? We left West Philadelphia Hospital last Friday afternoon and we all went down to the Provost Marshal’s office and waited there for transportation. We went down to the depot about one o’clock and got onto the cars, but it took about an hour before we could get started. There were fifteen deserters on the car that I was in. Three of them were to be shot this week. We got into Baltimore at seven o’clock. We got breakfast there. We had bread and ham, coffee, and tomatoes. From Baltimore we went to Washington. We got there about four o’clock p.m. We went right to the soldiers’ retreat, the same place where our regiment took dinner last Fall. We got supper when we had been there about an hour, but it was an awful supper.

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We had bread and salt beef, and they had some stuff there that they called coffee but I had about as lives drink lye as to drink that stuff and it was just the same the next morning fire. We stayed there all night. Sunday morning we got on to an old freight car and came here and waiting to go to our regiments. I expect to stay here about a week before I go to the regiment. Suppose that I have got two or three letters in the post office at Philadelphia, but I suppose that they will be in the regiment before I am for I left an order with one of the 24th to get all of my letters and send them to the regiment. I suppose that there will be some money in one of the letters. I suppose that we will draw our pay sometime this month and then we will have plenty of money. They say that the First Corps is at Rappahannock station fortifying. When I leave here I can go all the way on the cars. It is warm days here and cool nights, just the same as it was last Fall at this time. I trust that Eli is in Gettysburg. I have had no letter from him in some time. I don’t expect any either from him or you until I get to the regiment. I want you to write to me as soon as you get this and direct to the regiment for I expect to go to the regiment in a few days. I will write no more at present, so goodbye, Franklin A. Blanchard

Friday, Sept. the 4th, ‘63 Camp Merritt, Virginia Dear Parents, I guess that you will think that it is rather strange to see that I am down in Virginia again. I did not think when I wrote you last that I should be here yet in a long time to come, but such things will happen in the army and you cannot tell one day anything where he will be the next. I should have stayed at the hospital considerable longer than I did, but an order came that all musicians should be sent to their regiments and so Web Wood and I had to go. But we stayed to that hospital that we were at until it was broken up and the wounded were all moved out to the general hospital, and I should probably have gone there if we had not been ordered to our regt’s. But we cannot expect to have things to suit us always. We must expect to have things go a little different from what we would like to have them sometimes. We started from Gettysburg one week ago last Wednesday. We were delayed some on the road for a day or two but got here on Sunday morning and have been busy at work ever since fixing a place to stay in, and we have just got it done and have got things fixed so we are quite comfortable. We are situated about 25 rods from the Rappahannock river and about 40 or 50 rods from what used to be the Rappahannock station but was destroyed by the rebels in the first year of the war and has never been rebuilt. But the cars run clear up to the... so that we did not have to walk but a few rods to get to the regiment when we came through. I received a letter from you day before yesterday with 2 dollars in and one from you last night with 3 dollars in. I did not think that when I sent to you for money that I was going

115 away so soon or I should not have sent for it, but it comes very handy as it is for I had to get me a set of new furniture for cooking and some other little articles which I expected to get before I come away. And then I got some photographs taken while I was in Gettysburg, which I did not pay for because I come away before they was done. But now my money has come. I have sent for them and the next letter that I write I will send you some. I sent for six. They cost 12 shillings. I got a letter from Franklin last night, too. He said that he was well and all right. He thought that he should start for the reg’t in a few days. He thought that he would be a long time before I was, but I guess that he will find that he is mistaken when comes to find me here first. My sheet is full and I will not write anymore today. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

Tuesday, September the 8th, 1863 Dear Mother, I will now write a few lines to you to let you know that I am well and with the regiment once more. I left the Distribution Camp yesterday morning at seven o’clock and went to Alexandria, and there, we got on the cars and come to Rappahannock Station where the regiment now lies. The first one that I saw in Co. K was Eli. I did not much expect to find him here. He is well. The regiment, the most of them, went on picket this morning. I had no gun so I did not have to go. We have to go on the other side of the river to hike about two miles. The army lives first rate. We have soft bread, potatoes, beef, pork, meal, sauerkraut. The army lives better than it ever did before. We are within about forty rods of the river. I think that I will go down and wash a shirt and a pair of drawers. I suppose that you would like to know something about Alexandria. I was there about two hours yesterday. It is a place about as large as Plymouth or a little larger, but there is hardly a decent looking house in it and I guess that they never clean the streets. Well, I don’t know as I have anymore to write at present. Write as soon as you get this. Franklin A. Blanchard

Tuesday, Sept. the 8th, ‘63 Dear Parents, As Franklin has been writing to you and left a little room for me, I thought that I would a little too. Franklin came to the reg’t night before last. I think that he looks first rate and he seems to feel all right. I knew that he was coming to the reg’t, but I did not know that he was coming so soon. He looked surprised when he saw me here, for he thought that I was at Gettysburg yet. Well, there is nothing new to write about that I can think of; only that the leader of the brass band wants me and Wood to join them. He wants us both to play

116 horns. He wants Wood to play an alto horn and me a bass. And I think that I shall join it if I can get me an instrument at any reasonable amount, and I think that I can, but I shall have to wait a while before I can get one. I think that I shall like it very much, for you know that I was always quite a hand for music and I think that it would look much better for me to be in the band than it would to be about doing nothing. And then while I learn music down here, I am not losing time as I be at home if I was in a band, for here I can get paid for it. Write to me what you think about it as soon as you get this. Goodbye, E.A. Blanchard P. S. My photographs have not come yet, but I expect them every day.

Camp Merritt, VA Sunday, Sept. 13th, ‘63 Dear Father, I thought that I must [write] to you today and let you know what is going on. But before I tell you that, I will tell you that we have got our pay the way that we always do before we move, for the prospects are that we shall not stay here but a short time. I have got in my check $41.40 and no money. The reason I did not any money is that I overrun in my clothing account $6.60 and so I had to take a check for all that was coming to me. I will send you the check in this letter. The number of it is 332. I have bought the cymbals of the brass band and I play them now. The leader says that after I play them a while, he will get me a horn and learn me to play one. The cymbals cost me $11 and when I take a horn, whoever plays the cymbals pays me $11 for them so that I shall loose nothing by that. Well, I have paid for the cymbals and I suppose that you would like to know how I got the money. Well, I borrowed $20 of a man in Co. C by the name of John Passage and he sends his money to Hedding of Plymouth. And I gave this man an order to give to Hedding to show that I had got that amount of money of him, and Hedding will come to you with the order and you let him $20 out of my wages. The reason that I have done so is that you would not have to send the money back to me and there is no danger of its being lost; and then he would not have to send his money home and there is no danger of that being lost. Well, I will tell you about our move. All of our cavalry has all gone over the river to commence a fight and the 2nd Corps has crossed, too. And there has been cannonading going on for about two hours and guess they will bring on a heavy engagement. And if they do, we will have to move out to the front. But if they do not, we will probably have to stay here to guard the bridges and the fortifications that we have built here. But there is no telling; it may seem as if we was going to stay here a good while and the next hour we may be on the march. It is hard telling one day where we will be the next in the army. The cannonading still keeps up and I should not wonder if we had quite a fight before we got through with the matter.

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Those pictures of me have not come from Gettysburg yet, but I expect them every day. Nothing more at present. Goodbye. From your son, E. A. Blanchard Write soon. Tell Asa L. to write.

Saturday, Sept. the 19th,’63 Camp in a muddy field 4 miles from Culpeper Virginia Dear Parents, I will now try and write a few lines to let you know how we are getting along and where we are. You will see by the heading of my letter that we have moved camp. We left our old camp on the morning of the 15th inst’ and marched across the Rappahannock and went about 8 miles where we encamped and have been here ever since. It has rained most all of the time and if we had not had a first rate good tent we should have suffered a good deal. We got some wet. It was for we had to lay on the wet ground and we did not have any rubber blanket – or I did not at least – and the water would run into the tent somewhere, the best that we could do. But it has stopped raining now and has turned off pretty cold so that we have to build fires to keep warm by. I don’t think that we shall stay in this camp more than today. It is so muddy and we have to go so far to get water; and when we get it, it is nasty, muddy stuff from the creek. There is some talk of our moving this afternoon to a place about a mile and a half from here onto some high ground and where there is good water. I hope so, for I am tired of this muddy hole. The last letter that I got from you stated that Asa L. was going to school out to Ypsilanti this winter. I was glad to hear of that for I think that he will learn much more there than he would at home at our school, for he can learn as well as anybody if he is a-mind to. I wish that I could be there to school with him but I shall stand it down here a spell yet. The order has come to strike tents and move camp and I must stop writing for the present. Well, we have moved camp and are over here all right and in a nice place. The band has got a good place by ourselves. I am coming on very well with the cymbals and like it first rate. Someone has just hollered to me outdoors. I will go and see who it is. Well, he has just gone, and who do you guess it was? It was Al Cator of the First Mich. Cavalry. He seemed about half tickled to death to see me. He said that he was home on a furlough last spring and was down to our house several times to see Earnest when he was so sick. He said that we had a staying hired girl and wanted me to send her his best respects next time I wrote to you, and so I have done it. I guess that he come to see her than Earnest. But it is nearly dark and I must stop writing and build a fire to get supper with. Goodbye, E. a. B.

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[Friday], September the 25th Dear Father, as I have got a few minutes to spare, I do not know as I can improve them any better than in writing you a few lines. Eli and myself are both well and enjoying good health. We are on the move again, but where we are going is more than I can tell. We have to carry light days rations and we have our overcoats to carry now. Our regiment sent their overcoats to Washington last Spring, and the other day they were sent to us. We have got about as much as we can carry than we ever had before. I think that we are going across the Rapidan or we would not be carrying light days rations. We left Camp Peck near Mountain River yesterday about two o’clock and marched about five miles and went into camp about five o’clock. I expect that we will be on the move again today. We have been in sight of Blue Ridge Mountains ever since I joined the regiment. We can see them a good ways off. Eli enjoys himself first rate. He plays the cymbals and he makes it go first rate. He got him a brass horn the other day. He gave three dollars for it. He can play one tune already. The horn was worth twenty dollars when it was new. He will send it home if he gets a good chance. There is a good deal of talk among the soldiers about enlisting in the cavalry. There is some of our regiment going to enlist in the cavalry. I have thought some of it, but I don’t think I shall. I want to know what you think about it. If you think I had better go, I will do so; if not, I will stay in the regiment. I never got that letter that you sent to Philadelphia with two dollars in it. I have sent for it, but it has not come yet. You may send me some postage stamps in your next letter. We have had several letters from home of late. Eli got one from Aunt Hannah last night. I don’t know as you can read this letter, my pen is soar and I have wrote in such a hurry. I think that I can write a good hand if I can have a good place to write and take my time. I think that I can write better than I did when I enlisted. I will write no more at present, Franklin A. Blanchard

Camp O’Donnell, Virginia Friday, October the 2nd, 1863 Dear Father, I wrote a few lines to you yesterday and told you something how we were getting along, and today I will try and write enough more to make up a letter. It is raining today so that we can’t go out to practice as we usually do and it seems very lonesome to be shut up in a little tent with nothing to read or do, so I thought that I might as well write as not. I and the boy I am tenting with have got as snug a little shanty as I ever saw in my life. We have got it fixed so that it don’t leak the least bit. We have built it up with logs on the sides so that it is about two feet from the ground, and then we have the ends of it boarded up with nice pine boards and we have some smooth boards with pine burs spread over them for a bed which is about a foot and a half from the ground. Our door that we come in at is in the front side of the shanty and our bed in the backside of it, and we have a little table, a cupboard to keep our dishes in, and seats to set on. So you see that we have

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everything as comfortable and handy as a soldier can have. I would not trade my shanty for the Colonel’s anytime. The boy that I tent with is a first fellow. His name is Wilcox. He came from Macomb. He come out as a private in Co. F but was detailed from that into the band about six months ago and has been in it ever since. He is a first rate musician and shows me all he can, and I get along first rate. The Col. always gets a first rate place for the band by ourselves, so that you see that we have the advantage of the boys in the regiment. And there is a great many little things that he does for us that he can’t for the boys in the regiment. He can get our knapsacks carried for us if we wanted them, but there is danger of their getting stole so that we don’t very often do that. But I have said enough about that and will try and think of something else. Well, we are still here on the Rapidan and things look as though we might stay here a month. I wish that we could, we would have such good times. But there is no telling how long we will stay or what minute we may leave. There is nothing in the army that a man can be sure of unless he gets shot through the heart or head, and then we know that he is pretty sure to die; although, I have known them to live in both cases. I have seen quite a number of cases where they were shot right through the head and then got well. There was one at our hospital that I was in at Gettysburg that was shot and the ball went straight through his head. We thought certainly that he would not live, but he did and got well and is now in the army doing duty. So that you see that there is nothing in the army that I can be certain of. It still keeps raining very hard and it is turning cold. I pity the boys that are in picket when we have such nasty weather as this. It is about a mile and a half out to our pickets. They stand right in sight of the rebels’ pickets. They talk with each other and exchange papers every day. I saw a Richmond Enquirer last night dated Sept. the 27th. There was but very little war news in it. All that I saw was a little about Rosecrans. They were afraid that he had fallen back to a position where if they followed him up that he would make a flank movement and get them in a trap, and they were at quite a loss to know what to do but let them just hold on until Gen. Burnside gets around so as to form a function with him and they will not be at all at loss to know what to do unless they should get around them, cut them off, and so as to stop their retreat. Then they might be at a little loss to know what to do. Father, I will tell you what I think about this war: I think that it is about played out and I guess that the rebs think so too. There is lots of them desert every chance that they can get. They say that they were never so near gave up before since the war commenced. But I don’t think that we can hip them so as to come this Fall, for it will not be but a short time before Winter will come on and then we shall have to lay over until Spring again. I don’t believe that there will be more than one or two more hard battles fought with infantry. I think that it will mostly done by cavalry and that will be the hardest branch of the service from now until the war is over. It may be quite a spell before the war is over, for after we have [illegible] their principal army there will be squads of guerillas about and our cavalry will be the troops that will have to hunt them down, and we may not be discharged until it is all settled up. But I don’t think that we will not have much hard marching to do. Well, it has stopped raining. I have got a little work to do and I must stop writing. I wanted to fill up my sheet but I shall not have time to do that and my work too.

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I suppose that Asa L. has gone to school before this time. Tell him that he must write to me and tell me where to direct my letters to so that I can write to him, for I owe him a letter. Give my best respects to all enquiring friends and keep a good share for yourselves. Goodbye and be sure to write soon and write good long letter.

Address: E. A. Blanchard 24th Mich. Band First Division First Corps Washington D.C.

Friday October the 16th, 1863 Dear Father, all is well as for I wrote a letter to Mother yesterday, but you said that you wanted me to write as often as I could when there was fighting going on. We have been in no fight yet; only the Second and Fifth Corps and the cavalry, they were fighting yesterday. The cannons were booming all around us. The report is that our men were very successful. The conscripts done first rate. They fought as good as the old soldiers. The wounded were coming in all day yesterday and last night. One poor fellow had his right leg and left arm taken off. I saw the doctors take up the artery. The First Corps is laying at Centreville within three miles of Bull Run. We are laying behind breastworks; we have got our cannon planted; we have got one battery of 32 pounds; there is a line of battle out in front of us. I think that the First Corps is going to be on the reserve this time. There has been no firing today and it is now four o’clock. They say that part of Bragg’s army is here. I think that the rebs will open on us by tomorrow. I will write no more at present. Eli’s going to write some. I will write again soon. Franklin A. Blanchard Friday the 16th, 1863 Dear Parents, Franklin has been writing some and I thought that I would write a little as I have a little spare time. I should have written before but I am so tired every time that we stop that I don’t feel like it. But I have got here and got some rest and am all right. Franklin is well, too, and is doing first rate. Don’t believe that this Corps will be in the fight this time. The rebels may not fight us here this time. If they don’t, they probably will cross over to Maryland and then we will have another Gettysburg. I hope that they will fight us here for I have got such a grand position that it would not take long to [illegible] them out. Then we will not have to make such long hard marches if they stay here. I will write again soon. E. A. B

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Saturday Oct. the 17th 1863 Behind the breast works at Centerville, Virginia

Dear Parents, I wrote you a few lines in Franklin’s letter yesterday and today I will try and write a few more. Franklin and I are well and the general health of the boys is good. There has been no important movements made today that I know of. The report is that the rebs are retreating back across the Rappahannock, but we are way back in the reserve and so far from the front that we know of but little that is going on out there. There has been some pretty loud cannonading off at a distance for some time but it has stopped now and everything is all still. It is very pleasant and warm today. Yesterday and day before it rained nearly all of the time but it is all clear now and our things are all dry. Wet weather is a bad thing for troops when they lay in line of battle expecting an attack every minute. But I have got some news to tell you that has just come, and that is that the first brigade are all going home to recruit and will not come back till next Spring. If we do that, won’t we have jolly old times though. But we may not come home. Although the most of our officers think that we will. If we do, we will have rather different shanties for our winter quarters than we have been thinking of. There has been rumors afloat for quite a spell that this brigade was going home to recruit and today we heard something still more reliable. The Adjutant read a paper to us today stating that they thought we would start about the last of next month, but we had not better be too certain about it for there is nothing certain in the army. Well, I think that if the rebels undertake to take this place they will be sorry for it is fortified so well that a small force could hold it against a good sized army. We have got a battery of big guns up here in one of the forts that carry a 32 pound ball and are 12 feet long. They are the largest field pieces that I ever saw. They will throw 2 bushels of grapeshot at once. It is getting late and I shall not have time to write much more and send my letter out tonight. We have not had any mail in the reg’t for over a week but we expect to get some tonight. I hope so for I expect about 3 letters for myself. I can’t write anymore tonight. Tell Asa L. to write. I will tell you lots of things about the war when we get home this fall. Goodbye.

October the 25th Camp near Cristo Station Dear Father, we left camp yesterday morning at seven o’clock. It had been raining most all night. We were routed up at six o’ck. We got our breakfast and by the time we got ready to march, it commenced raining again. The roads were muddy and things looked rather dubious. We had to cross Broad Rum Creek. The water was up to our knees, it was

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raining, the mud was knee deep, but it was no use fifing, we had it to do. When we came to a stream, we would give a yell and plunge and go right through. We would make the best of everything, and say that a man must be a fool that wouldn’t be a soldier. Some said they were going to enlist in the veterans. We went three miles beyond Bealeton and had put up some of our tents when orders came to march back to Bealeton Station. It was getting dark and we had got a big creek to cross to get back to the station. There was some crossing and swearing but it was no use, we had to go back right where we came from. I kept up all the way and so did Eli, but there was about half of the regiment that fell out. We marched about 25 miles. It would not have been so hard but everything was wet. I think our affect in coming here is to guard the railroad while the Third Corps goes down to reinforce Burnside. It may not be in that way but I think it is. I am rather hard up for writing paper just now, but I can get some when the sutler comes up. I have got that two dollars yet. The next time you send me any money, send me greenbacks, for other money is hard to get rid of. I have not heard anything more about the 24th going home, but I think that the chances is rather slim. I will write no more at present. Write soon,

Franklin A. Blanchard

Sunday, Nov. 1st, ‘63 Camp near Catlett Station Prince Williams Co., VA Dear Parents, It has been some time since I have written to you. I have been calculating to write every day for more than a week, but every time that get ready to write, something will turn up so that I can’t. But I have got at it today and will try and see if I can write a little. Well, our reg’t and one other out of the brigade are up here near the station guarding railroad. We left the rest of the brigade day before yesterday and came up here. I don’t know how long we shall stay here but we shall probably move when the army moves. The railroad that we are guarding is that which the rebels tore up when we fell back to Centreville. It is all built up now, back as far as Washington junction. I tell you what, them rebs made some awful work with the railroad when they came through here. They done everything that they possibly could that would damage the road. Franklin and I are both well. I have been a little under the weather for 4 or 5 days with a bad cold, but am over that now and am all right. There is one thing in the army that may seem curious to you, and that is a man will not take cold half so quick here in the army as he will at home. I haven’t had but 2 bad colds since I have been in the service and I guess that Franklin has not had but one. He stands it tiptop and does his duty as well as any man in the regiment. I don’t believe that there is a better soldier in the whole brigade than he is.

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He is always ready to do his duty. Let it be what or where it is, he is always up to the scratch. I wish a great many times that I had no brother in the army, and then I would not feel the way that I do when there is prospects of a fight, for then the band is always ordered to the rear and the regiment to the front and there is no telling who will come back alive and who will not. But I think that things will come out all right after a while, for it don’t seem possible that this rebellion can hold out much longer. But what do you hear about our coming home? The idea has about played out down here and we have given up all hopes of coming home until our time is up. There was one spell here that we thought that should surely go home, but it has died away now. We don’t hear nothing more of it and the thing is given up all around now. Well, my sheet is about full and I must stop writing. I received a letter from you the other day that you thought I would have hard work, too. But I guess that you can’t come up to this. I don’t believe that I could read it if I should forget what I had been writing about. Write often as you can. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

Thursday, November the 12th, 1863 I now sit down to write a few lines. Our regiment is now in camp near Beverly’s Ford on the north side of the Rappahannock to work on the railroad that the rebs destroyed in the month of October. All of the other corps are on the other side of the river. We were five miles on the other side of the river, but we come back the next day. The whole corps is helping build the railroad. I think when we get it built we will stay and guard it. Eli and myself are both well. The health of the regiment is good. We drawed our pay today; I had 72 dollars and fifty cents. I will send you my allotment of sixty dollars in this letter. I will send a new ten-cent piece. I don’t know whether you have seen any of them or not. I owe the sutler three dollars, so I will have nine dollars left. I will write no more at present. Write soon,

Franklin A. Blanchard

Tuesday, November 17th, 1863 Dear Mother, I now sit down to write you a few lines. Eli and myself are both well and in good spirits. I just came in off picket today. We were out three days and three nights. Monday night it rained most all night and it ran into our shanties. We had them stitched but the stitches over flooded and the first thing we knew, we were laying in the water. We drawed clothing yesterday. I drawed a pair of shoes for the first time since I enlisted, I got one pair of drawers, haversack, shirt, and socks. I don’t know but what I had better

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have a pair of boots made and sent to me; that is, when you have a chance. The next pair I don’t want quite so heavy. Stevens I think would be the man to make them. I think that Eli would rather wear shoes this winter. They are so much lighter than boots. But you know that I have to go on picket and on fatigue duty, and in muddy weather, boots come handy. I suppose [you] would like to know what I think about going home. To tell the truth about it, I don’t think that we will come home until our time is out or until the rebellion is put down. I expect that we will have to advance again in a short time. The railroad is all laid now and the cars run to Culpeper. The next time we advance, we will have to cross the Rapidan and there we will have some hot work. There is hardly a day passes over but what we hear cannonading. The clouds look like snow today and I would not wonder if we had some snow before long. I suppose that you have got my allotment check before this. When you write again, you may send me some more thread. I could buy some, but it is not worth much and they charge 20 cents a hank. I forgot to say, Eli got a letter from you last night. I will send that ten-cent note that I forgot to send the last time I wrote. You may give it to Bonny. I don’t know as I have anything more to write. F. A. Blanchard

[Sunday] 22nd Camp near Beverly Ford, VA Dear Parents, We received a letter from you last night and was glad to hear that you was all well and getting along so well. Frank and I are both well and all right, too. We never had better health in our lives than we are having now, and we feel as well, too. I believe that I am nearly a third stronger than I was when I left home, and I thought that I was pretty strong then. I can take a 12-pound cannonball that some of the boys found in the woods the other day and throw it farther than any man in the regiment. But enough of that. I will tell you how near we come to being somewhere else instead of being here at this camp. Well, the order came last night about 8 o’clock for us to be ready to move at daylight with 5 days rations. That was sad news for us, for we had just rigged our shanty up first rate and had a staving little fireplace in it that worked as nice as a trap. So you can judge that we did not [feel] of leaving very well. But we had to stand it if we had got a nice shanty. Well, we went to and slept until 4 o’clock when the bugle sounded for us to get up. We got up and looked out. It was pretty cold and like snowing. It did not snow any; but in about ten minutes, it began to rain like sixty. And then the order come to strike tents. We packed up and waited in the rain about half an hour, and the head of the brigade was just starting out when an orderly came up from Meade’s headquarters and said the order was countermanded. You had better believe that the boys was pleased to hear that, and back we come and pitted our tents. But as soon as we had done that, it stopped raining just as it always does. If we start to, it is most sure to rain; but when we are in camp, it is pleasant weather.

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I see by your last letter that you have not given up our coming home yet but I am afraid that you will have to. The regiment [has] given up all ideas of coming now until our time is out or until the war is over. I see too by your letters and the papers that they are all over the northern states. I am glad to hear that. I say that if the men will not volunteer, draft them; for more men is what we want and what we must have before we can close this war. All that keeps the Army of the Potomac from going to Richmond is this: when we leave here, we [have] no army left to guard Washington. But the last call of the president for men is what has done it. When we get them in to the field, we shall have an army large enough to do as we please in spite all that the rebs can do and they know it and it stings them to the heart’s core. But they cannot help it – they are discouraged at the thought of it. Lee’s army does not fight near so well as it used to. They would rather be taken prisoner than not, and if they do not begin to do something pretty soon they will have to knock under. I don’t expect that we shall whip them this fall, but next summer must surely do it; for men that turn pale at this thought – 3 more men will not do a great deal when they come to face them. Tell Asa L. to write to me. I have not heard from him in a long time.

Monday, November the 23, 1863 Dear Mother, I received a letter from you tonight and I will try and answer it. I was glad to hear from home again. It had been some time since I had heard from home. Eli and myself are both well and in good spirits. We are still on the north side of the Rappahannock. I don’t know how long it will be before we will move, but I don’t think that it will be long before we will go somewhere. You have never said anything about that two dollars that I sent back when I was on the railroad. If it ever got home, I wish you would let me know. When you wrote your last letter, my allotment had not had time to reach home. I am expecting to hear from it this week. I shall not fee[l] worry any until I do hear from it. You say that you have not given up hopes of the 24th coming home yet. Well, I have gave up all hopes of their coming home this winter. I guess that going home is played out. We would like to all go home first rate but we cannot do as we are a-mind to down here. We are under Uncle Sam now days. It is getting to be cold weather again. A couple of weeks, if not sooner, will wind up this fall’s campaign. We have just had one heavy rain and it looks as if we was going to get some more. I wrote some time ago about my boots. I think you had better get them made so when we do get winter quarters you can send them. I would like to have a pair of buckskin gloves and I think that Eli would like a pair. I have got two good shirts that I drawed from the government, and I have got one of them shirts left that you sent me last winter, but it is about wore out. I think that one cotton flannel shirt would do me – either blue or red would suit. But I presume it will be some time before you can send anything to us. But when you can send, I would like to have you send some story paper if you happen to have any. I do not know as you have

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any. Saturday Evening Post, new or not, that is a good story paper. I will write no more at present, so goodbye, F. A. Blanchard

Saturday Evening, December 12th Dear Father, it has been some time since I heard from home and I thought I would write a few lines to you. Eli and myself are well and in good spirits. Eli has not had much time to write. I think he will write a letter tomorrow. It has been raining today and I have been mending my old pants. I have got three large patches on them. One on each knee and one on the seat. I have had them over six months. I must make them last until I get some more. I have signed for a pair; I shall get them some next week. I rowed a [illegible] boat today. They cost seven dollars and fifty cents. That is what they used to cost. But they used to; they have returned the price on clothing so it will not be so steep after this. It has rained enough to make the roads muddy so it would be almost impossible to move artillery. There will be no more fighting for the army of the Potomac. There may be a little skirmishing, but no fighting of any account. There has been some talk of sending two corps off down to help Grant, but I think it is only a report. You wrote in your last letter that George Roberts talked of enlisting in the 24th. You had better tell him to stay at home if he knows when he is well off. I don’t think he could stand it. A soldier’s life is a hard life. I don’t think there is a man in the 24 or in any other regiment that has had any marching to do that has often wished that he had never enlisted. Well, the boys make so much noise tonight that I can’t write very well. I believe that I will wait until morning. Sunday morning. Everything is quiet now and I will try and write a few lines more. It rained about all night and the ground is very wet. Our camp is on low ground and it makes it bad getting around. While I am writing, one of the boys says there is a rainbow. I think we are going to have some more rain. It has commenced raining now. You may tell George that I should like to see him first rate but I think if he come down here he will have to go through more than he thinks of now. I think by the time he went forty miles in one day and had to ford rivers and creeks and climb over mountains and hills he would begin to wish himself at home. If a man gets sick he don’t have the care here that he would at home. The 24th lost a good many men by sickness last winter. When we come out, we had over a thousand men, and now our whole brigade only numbers five hundred and twenty men that is able to carry a gun. There will not be much sickness in the regiment this winter, for what there is left of us are tough as boiled owls. What few there is left will stand like iron. We all wore tall black hats. The rebs know us and fear us. When they see the old black hats they want to keep shy. There is no other brigade in the service that [illegible] them. At Gettysburg, they rather [illegible] it to us but they were five to one against us. We killed more men of them than they killed of us, and we would have whipped them if we had got our artillery in position. One of the boys got a box yesterday from his folks. I had a piece of cake that came in the box. It was George

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Fairfax’s box. You may send a box when you want to be sure and have it marked right. I suppose that you keep a hired girl yet. You had better keep her all winter so as to make the work light for Mother. I think that she must be a good girl. At least Al Gates thinks she is. I saw him the other day and he told me all he knew, and I don’t know but what he told me more than the new. I must close my letter and clean my gun for inspection. F. A. Blanchard

[Monday], December 28th, 1863 Camp near Culpeper, VA Dear Father, we left our old camp near Kelly’s Ford one day last week. We came here in a day. The ground was froze. It was a nice day. It is about 25 miles from Kelly’s Ford to Culpeper. We first went to Brandy Station, and from there to Culpeper. It was once a nice little town. I should think it was about the size of Plymouth. The cars rounded up to the town and the First Corps gets all her supplies from there. There is three large churches in the town but I don’t think there is any meetings held in them. Well, we have got us another shebang, just as good if not bett’ than the other. There is the same number in with me there was down at the ford, the Captain Spaulding, and Sanders. The captain built the chimney. We built it out of stone. We have been having some very wet weather for the last three days and we have had a rough time of it, but we are all right now. There is not many of the boys that has got their shanties done. Eli has got his about finished. Some of our brigade is going home as veterans for three days longer. Our regiment they would not take because it has not been out as long as the rest of our brigade. There is a great many old regiments going into the veterans. The First Michigan Cavalry is going into the veterans. I expect that they are on their way home by this time. I guess you had better send that box by express. I don’t know of any other way now but you had better find out whether the government will let express boxes go through to the army of the Potomac before you send it. I think you will have no trouble, for there has several express boxes come for this regiment. When you send the box, you may put in a towel or two. I got a letter from Marve the other day, and Eli got one from home yesterday. I think Eli will write in a day or two. I will write no more at present, Franklin A. Blanchard

Friday morning, [January] 1st, 1864 Dear Father, what are you all doing this pleasant New Year’s morning? I suppose that you are enjoying yourselves thinking what a nice dinner you are going to have. I hope you will have a good time. I am going to have a good time. I expect to go down to

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Culpeper and buy my dinner today. I received your letter dated the 29th. It brought the sad news of Grandfather’s death. I wish that I could have been at home to have seen him. Well, he was an old man and has lived a great while longer than I ever expected to live. You must write and let me know all about the funeral. Last night it rained and I thought we were going to have a wet day for New Year’s but this morning it cleared up and the sun shines warm and pleasant. We have had considerable cold weather and the ice would hold up a government wagon. But there is no ice now and I don’t think there will be any more this winter. I expect everything is all froze up solid in Michigan and most likely you have sleighing. Last night while it was raining, the order came round to be ready to fall in at the top of the drum. Everybody was up in a hurry and the first thing we thought of was our guns. We cleaned them out but did not load. There was a good deal of picket firing last night and it was thought the rebs were trying to make a dash. But we did not have to fall out. Everything is quiet this morning. You said that you would like to have Eli or me come home this winter and then you would not have to send them, but I want you to send the box by express just as soon as you get it ready, for I don’t think there will be many more furloughs granted. And there is so many ahead of me now that it would be spring before I could get a furlough. When you send the box by express, before it gets to me, I will get a certificate to show that you have sent the box. And if the box is lost, the express agent will have it to pay for. You can send me and Eli a pair of socks apiece. I suppose that Alfred Cator is at home now on a thirty days furlough. He has enlisted for three years longer and is now a veteran. I think I have written enough for this time so I will close by wishing you all a happy New Year’s.

Franklin A. Blanchard

Camp near Culpeper, VA January 2nd, 1864 Dear Parents, Having a few moments of time to spare, I thought that I could not improve them better than to write a few lines to you and let you know how we are getting along. Well, Franklin and myself are both well and so are all of the rest of the boys as far as I know. I believe that our regiment is healthier this winter than it has been before – since we came out. I don’t know of a man that is with the reg’t but that is well and healthy. Well, Frank says that he wrote to you yesterday and I suppose that he has written all of the news so there is but need of my writing, but I must try and think of something for if don’t write pretty soon I shall forget how to write at all and then I would be in a tight fix. I should have written to you before but I could not find the time, for we have but just got our shanty finished and got things fixed so as to be comfortable. We have been a good while in getting up a shanty but we have got up a good one. Franklin and his tent mates have got a good shanty but I think that ours is a little better still. We have the praise of

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having the best shanty in the reg’t that is considerable. There is four of us together and we have the greatest old time out. I suppose that you would like to know who my tent mates are. Well, there are Web Wood, Jo Bale, and Henry Bird – the Colonel’s nephew. He is a very fine fellow and we have great times together. They are all good boys that I tent with. Wood does the cooking, and Bird brings the water, and Bale and I get the wood. The last letter that we got from you brought us bad news of the death of Grandfather. He died rather unexpected to us, although we knew that man as old as he was was liable to die at anytime. I had always thought and hoped that he would live until we got home. You write that he died on Christmas. We were having quite a time that day and little thinking of what was going on at home, although I thought of it a good many times. I had a first rate good dinner on Christmas. It was as good a dinner as I have had since I left home. There was six of us that went to the sutlers and bought a lot of canned chicken and turkey, and some butter, and condensed milk, and we rigged up a first rate dinner. It cost us twelve shillings apiece. It was a pretty good price to pay for a dinner, but we had not had anything in so long that thought have something good for Christmas would not be anything out of the way. But New Year’s we had nothing but army rations and we worked hard on our shanty all day. I calculated to write to [you] on that day but I did not have time. Well, I guess that I will not write anymore at present. I thought that I would write another sheet but I will wait until next time. Write soon as you can. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

You had better send that box right through by express. A good many boys getting express boxes from home. Send me a few stamps.

[Wednesday], January the 20th, 1864 Culpeper County, VA Dear Mother, I now sit down to write a few lines to you. I received a letter from you last Sunday. It was great to hear that you were getting better. I am still on safeguard and I will remain here until the army moves and then of course will have to go where the army goes. We are having pleasant weather down here in VA. It looks very much like the spring of the year. The ground has not been froze for a week or more. The birds were singing before I was up this morning. I was down to camp last night to see the boss. I saw Eli, he is well and has bully times. He says that he can play as good as any of the band. I never saw such pleasant weather for the time of year and I am afraid if this weather holds we will have to make a move. The roads are in good condition and there would be no difficulty in moving an army, but we do not know how long this weather is going to last. It may last a week and it may last two days. It was about this time last year that we made the Burnside stuck-in-the-mud march. It was good weather when we started. I never shall forget this, the Burnside march. That march used me up more than any march that I ever

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made and I think that there was more straggling on that march than any march that was ever made. I suppose that you don’t very often see any soldiers and you may be thankful that you don’t see many. I think that the citizens around here will be glad when the soldiers leave from around here. The soldiers have about stripped them of everything. The people where I am on guard have got a few chickens, a couple of pigs, and a little corn is all that they have got left. They were once well off and doing well and were happy, but they are ruined now. I shall have to bring my letter to a close so that I can send it out by this mail. Franklin A. Blanchard P.S. That box has not come yet. We expect it some tomorrow night. There is some coming in tomorrow.

Saturday, January the 30th, 1864 Culpeper County, VA Dear Father, as I have nothing else to do but to read and write, I think I will improve some of my time in writing a few lines to you. I am well, and the last time I saw Eli he was well. I don’t know as I have got any news to write. Everything is quiet on the Rapidan. I heard some muskets a little while ago but it was men out practicing shooting off blank cartridges. We have been having some fine weather of late. Ever since Newglass, has been nice weather; but this morning it was cloudy and it has been raining a little all day. The deserters are coming in every day. Sometimes they come in whole companies at a time. If they keep coming in at the rate they have been for the last month I think that we will have half of their army by spring. I think that this war is about played out. I think by spring it will be played out entirely. The rebs are about discouraged. I think that Arkansas and North Carolina will be back in the Union by spring. There may be one big fight down in Tennessee, but I don’t think that the army of the Potomac will have any fighting to do. There is a good deal of talk in camp who is to be the next president and the majority of the soldiers are for having old Abe for the next president. I think that old Abe is the man. Well, I shall have to bring my letter to a close for the want of something to write. I want you to write as often as you can and I will do the same. The box has not come yet. No more at present, Franklin A. Blanchard

P.S. You can send me some postage stamps the next time you write. I do not know when we will be paid off, but I am in hopes before long. P.S. That box came last Friday. I am going down to camp this morning to get my things.

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Camp Meade, VA Feb. the 2nd 1864 Dear Parents, It has been some time since I have written to you. I should have written before but every time I would get ready something would turn up to stop it. But now I am all alone and nothing to do and I will try and write a little. Franklin and I are both well and all right. Frank was down here Sunday to get his things that came in the box. He liked them very much. Everything of mine was all right but the boots, and they were a little too large for me, but I make them go first rate. They are a great deal better than if they were too small. The chickens and cakes were all right when they got here. I ate mine the next day after it come for it was warm weather and I was afraid that it would not keep. Frank’s chicken was kept most too long and did not go quite as good as mine did, although it was not entirely spoiled. Everything else was all right. My knife I think is the best one I ever had. I tell you what, it is a glorious thing to things sent to a fellow from home when he is in the army. I will tell you how I am getting along in the band and how I like it. Well, I am getting along first rate and learning very fast and can play nearly every piece of music correct that we have got. I am getting so I can see how it goes and I understand reading the rules pretty well and it does not take me long to learn a piece that I never saw before. I never done duty before where I liked it as well as I do in the band. You know, that music is something that I always liked and it comes quite easy for me to learn it. I don’t think that I would be better suited with any place in the army than in a band. Oh, I meant to have told you before that Capt. W. W. Wight has been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel of this reg’t and Col. Morrow has command of the brigade so that the capt. has command of the reg’t. I am glad that he has been promoted to that place, for I think that he needs it if anyone does, for there is not a better officer to his men in the whole army than he is and the boys in the reg’t all like him first rate. Well, we have got a little news in camp this morning. The rebs have sent word, or somebody has, to Gen. Meade that there is 3 or 4 brigades over there that want to come over into our lines and give themselves up as prisoners of war. And this morning Gen. Kilpatrick has taken a lot of Mich. Calvary and the sharpshooters that belong to our brigade and has gone over after them. How he will succeed we can’t tell, but we hope that he will come out all right and bring the Johns with him. It may be that the rebs have only done this to get them in a trap, but the gen. is a man who understands himself and will look out for that. Well, it is getting to be nearly dinnertime and I must close my letter. Tell Asa L. that he must write and answer that letter that I wrote him a while ago. Goodbye for this time, Eli A. Blanchard Write soon.

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[Friday], February 5th, 1864 Culpeper County, VA

Dear Mother, I now sit down to write you a few lines. I am well and I hope that these few lines will find you all the same. I received a letter from Father last evening. I went down to camp last night, I saw Eli, he was well. He went down to Culpeper with the rest of the band. There was a temperance meeting down there last night. We had a change in the weather last Monday night. We had thunder and lightening and rain. Yesterday morning it turned cold. That box came all right. Everything suits first rate. I shan’t wear my boots until we march next spring. I had rather wear shoes while I am safe guard. They are so much lighter. That was nice butter that you sent us, also the cake and cheese was all very nice. Them was nice fat chickens that you sent us. I don’t think that we shall want you to send us another box until next winter, if we should happen to stay until next winter. I am in hopes that we will be home by that time. Sometimes I think this war is not going to last long and then again I think it may last a year or two longer. Deserters are coming in every day. They say that the rebel army is in a bad condition, and if it was not for their leaders they would all come back in the Union. I don’t think there will be any hard fighting between Washington and Richmond. All the hard fights is going to be farther down south. There is some talk of sending the First Corps down in Tennessee, but I think we will stay here where we are. I am glad to hear that Asa L. is getting along so well at school. I expect that he is a good deal larger than he was when I left home. Eli wrote something to father about coming down here to see us and the army. I should like to see him first rate, but I think he had better stay at home. It would cost him right more, as the citizens say. They talk different than what we do. Everything is quiet in the army now, but I don’t know how long it will be so. The Third Corps and some cavalry have gone out to the front. I am expecting to hear the cannon every day. I will write no more at present. You must write as soon as you get this. No more at present, Franklin A. Blanchard

Thursday February the 11th, 1864 Dear Father, as I have nothing else to do but to read and write and talk love to Kitty, the girl that lives here, I will write you a few lines. Everything is quiet now. I believe there has been no fighting since last Saturday. The First Corps was not in the fight, but the Second Corps was. I have not been able to learn what the damage was yet. There has been no papers in camp since the fight. I went down to camp the other day to learn what the news was and not a thing could I hear concerning the fight. The First Corps had been down to the Rapidan and was drawn up in line of battle, but they came back Monday night in camp about ten o’clock at night covered with mud from one end to the other. I was on safeguard and in bed when they came in and I am two miles from camp, but I heard them yell and holler. I got up and went to the window and I could hear our band

133 play and hear the boys very plain. Mother wrote to me and wanted to know how I fared on safeguard and wanted to know if there is anyone besides myself on safeguard where I am. No, there is no one but myself, and I enjoy myself first rate. She wanted to know if there was any danger of my being captured. You can tell her that I think there is a little danger. I am afraid that that girl has captured my heart. When I came here on safeguard there was an Indianny chap coming to see her but I cut him out and he has not been here for three weeks. She won’t have anything to do with anybody but myself, and she is as nice and pretty a girl as I ever saw. There is some of them have tried to shine around her, but it is no use. She thinks I am about the nicest young man that she ever saw. Mother said that she wanted me to get my likeness taken. We have not been paid off yet and I don’t know when we will be paid, so if you want my likeness you must send me the money, and if you will send me five dollars I will get that girl’s likeness taken and send it to you so you can see what for a looking girl she is. Eli was down here the other day. He is well and so am I with the exceptions of a slight cold. I got a letter from Mother last Tuesday and I will write her a letter when I get another one from home. I will write no more at present. This from your son, Franklin A. Blanchard

Thursday, February the 18th, 1864 Dear Mother, I have not wrote a letter to you in some time. I will now write you a few lines. Eli and myself are well and I hope that this letter will find you the same. I am having good times this winter on safeguard. I eat with the family and have just what they have. There is no one on guard here but myself. I wrote something to you about the girl that is here. She is a nice girl, good looking, got a good education, and whenever she goes to any of the neighbors I go with her. She thinks a great deal of me and if I wanted to marry her, I could do so without any trouble. But you need not feel uneasy about that. I would not marry any way until this war is over with. I think there will be time enough then. I am not as I used to be at home. You would think I was not the same boy. You knew I used to be bashful but I have got bravely over it now. I can talk on any subject and I don’t know of anybody who can get the start of me, I will always have an answer. I was over to one of the neighbors’ house the other day. One of the little boys went with me. The little boy was in there afterwards and the little boy told me that Mr. Cuttler said that I was the smartest man that ever was in his house. I thought that it was quite a compliment for me. There is no officer in the regiment that can beat me down in an argument. I have not got my likeness taken yet. I am going down to camp in a day or two and get it taken. We got paid off the other day. I will send my allotment check of twenty dollars in this letter. You had better tell Father to go and draw the gold on it. We have very cold weather here now. I think it must be cold in Michigan now. I don’t think this war will last over a year longer. Deserters are coming in every day. Arkansas has already

134 back in the Union. I don’t know but what you think. I have been praising myself too much but you said you wanted me to write all about myself. I will write no more at present, so goodbye. This from your son, Franklin A. Blanchard

Friday, February the 19th, 1864 Dear Aunt, your letter came on time. I was glad to hear that you were all well. Eli and myself are well. I told him he must write to you and he said he would. I am where I was when I wrote to you last, on safe ground two miles and a half from camp. No one here but myself and the folks of the house. I am about one mile from the picket line. It is awful cold weather down here in VA and I suppose it is awful cold in Mich. I am enjoying myself this winter, about the best that I ever have. I never had better times at home than I am having now. I think I know about four times as much now as when I enlisted. I believe that soldiering has done me good. One thing is certain, I am not as bashful as I was when I left home. I suppose that you would like to know how that girl and I came on. Well, we came on all right. I suppose that you would like to know what kind of a girl she is. Well, in the first place, she is good looking. In the second place, she is smart as trap springs. In the third place, she is a girl of good character, and when this war is over I may take a notion to take her as my wife. But I don’t want you to tell everybody what I write, for some of the homey girls might be jealous. I am going to send you an old letter that came from Georgia, a mother writing to her son. I don’t care how much you show the letter. I guess you will have hard work to read it and if I am not mistaken you will have hard work to read this letter. But I am in a hurry and can’t take much pains. I am in a hurry to go down to camp to see the new recruits. I don’t know as I have anything more at present. Franklin A. Blanchard

Tuesday morning the 23rd of February, 1864 Dear Father, your letter and the photographs came on time. I was glad to get your pictures. They all look as natural as life. I would like to have Asa L. picture. Eli got a letter from Mother the same time that I got yours. They do not take photographs in the army so you will have to give it up, but I can send you my likeness if you want it. It will cost a dollar. I had my likeness taken yesterday but gave it away. I got one in return for it. I will let you see it sometime. It is a pleasant morning. The sun shines warm and bright. It looks as if winter had broke. The birds are singing very sweetly. But I am afraid if this

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weather holds there will be some fighting done. But we are gong to have cold weather next month. Everything is quiet along the lines today. You said that you saw Lilburn Spalding. I am glad you saw him for he is my tent mate and knows just what I am. Him and me is always together. You need not spoken to him about my being promoted, for I know he will do all he can for me, but I shall never say anything to the officers about it. I shall never ask to be promoted. The best way is to keep still and I don’t want you to ever say anything more about it. I was down to camp yesterday. Saw Eli. Miss Hawkins went with me. Had our pictures taken. I want you to send me that money that I wrote to you about and then I will send you something. It will be payday again in about two weeks, but whether we will get paid or not is more than I can tell. I will write no more at present. This from your son,

F. A. Blanchard

P.S. February the 24th I went down to camp yesterday and forgot to take this letter. I saw Eli. He is well. He makes that old horn of his ring. This letter will leave tomorrow at three o’clock. Everything is quiet along the lines.

Camp Meade, Virginia Feb. the 28, 1864 Dear Parents, I now have time to write you a few lines to let you know how we are getting along and what we are doing, etc. I received a letter from you about a week ago with the photographs. I like them very much and all look so natural. I want Asa L. to get his taken and send one too. I expect that he has grown so that I would not know him if I should see him. And when he gets it taken I want him to write me a letter himself and send it to me for I have not had a letter from him in so long that I have forgotten how it would seem to have him write to me. Bonny and Earny have both written to me and first rate good letters too for boys, and I think it rather strange that Asa L., as large and old as he is, can’t write at all. Anyone would think by his not writing that he had forgotten that he has any brothers in the army, or if he did have, he did not think enough of them to write now and then a letter. But I have said enough about that so I guess that if you let Asa L. see this letter he will write to me. At any rate, I hope he will. Hello, here comes Franklin. We will see what he has to say. One of the little boys has come down here with him. He is quite an intelligent-looking little chap for a secesh. He says he wishes his folks was not secesh and then he would not be. He says he likes the Union men the best but his folks are secesh and so he is. Frank is well and looks as tough as ever. He says there is no danger of Kitty’s trapping him or anyone else in this army, for she is engaged to be married to a rebel soldier and he says that he will warrant her to stick to her bargain.

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Well, there has been considerable talk about camp since yesterday morning. The 6th Corps sorted out yesterday with a lot of artillery and cavalry on a reconnaissance and it was thought by some that they would get into trouble and we should have to go and help them out of it, but I guess that they have not got into any scrape and will not need any help. I hope so at least, for I had just as leave stay here a while longer as not and a little rather. If they wait much longer and then try to drive us out, they will have hard work unless we got back without fighting for we are getting more men every day. There was a lot more recruits come to the reg’t today and about a week ago we had a lot come. Our reg’t will be larger next Spring than it was last, and we are not only having new recruits coming into the field but the veterans are coming back. Last Tuesday night the 7th Wisconsin came back into the old brigade again. The regiment is reported to be over 1000 strong and today the sixth reg’t of the same state came in, and the 19th Indiana are expected along every day. And it is just like this throughout the whole army so you see when Spring comes we are a-going to have an army nearly a third larger than we ever had before. My sheet is full and I must close. The mail has not come in yet but when it does I expect a letter from you with 2 or 3 sheets and some postage stamps in. I hope so for 2 reasons: one is because I like to get long letters, and the other is because I am all out of stamps and have to borrow for this letter. Goodbye, E.A.B.

[Sunday], February the 28th, 1864 Dear Father, I will send you a company roll of honor of my company. It cost one dollar and a half. They have made several mistakes and I am sorry I took it. There is several names that is misspelled and some of the boys that was wounded they have not got down. My name is not down. I will send it home and you can do what you are a mind to with it. Eli and myself are well. No more at present, F. A. Blanchard

Wednesday, March the 16th, 1864 Dear Father, I will try and write you a few lines this morning. Eli and myself are well, and I hope these few lines will find you all the same. We have been having some cold windy weather for a few days past. We can see snow on the mountains this morning, and when you can see snow on the mountains we can look out for cold weather. Web Wood’s father is down here. He came here to the regiment last Sunday. I saw him twice and had a little talk with him. He said he was going to tell you that he saw me walking out with Virginia girls. I

137 told him I had no affection and if you did not like it you could do the other thing. One of the ladies that he saw me with was the one that gave me the choking. You may think it is dangerous business to be choked by a reb, but I have got so used to it of late that I don’t mind it. I am going to send you a secesh song this time. I wish you knew the tune to it. I know the tune and words both. I have carried the song in my diary for some time and it has got dirty. It is Kitty’s writing, but she can write a great deal better if she takes pains. I think if she knew if I was going to send it off she would write a better one, but her mother is sick and I will not ask her for she has got a good deal to do. I saw Eli yesterday. He was enjoying himself first rate. There is no talk of moving now but I suppose in the course of two or three weeks we will be off. I will be sorry when we have to go. It will seem almost like leaving home to me. I have no more to write at present. This from your son, F. A. Blanchard

Camp Meade, Virginia March the 19th, 1864 Dear Mother, I received your kind and welcome of the 14th inst. last night and was glad to hear that you was all well and getting along so finely. I hope that ever letter we get from you may be the same. Well, it is pretty healthy down here as a general thing, although we have been having some sickness in the reg’t within the last week and I don’t see what is the cause of it either for but a short time before that we did not have a man in the hospital and since that time 3 men have died. 2 of them were old soldiers and the other was a recruit. We have but two men in the hospital at present and they are doing very well. Well, I have been up to see Frank today and carry him up a letter that he got from Father the same time I got mine. I found him all right and as well as usual. He seems to enjoy himself first rate up there. The folks up there think he is about right and I being his brother of course they think I am about right. Web Wood went up with me and we had a fine old time. There is another girl that lives close by there that comes over to see Kittie pretty often and she was over there today while we were there. We got to play Old Sledge, or “Seven Up” as they call it, and we had a fine time at it. I tell you what, the girls were tiptop at it and was most too much for us at that but we could beat them at Euchre. You said in your last letter that Asa L. was at home and that he and Marve was going to have a dance over to Uncle Hies on Friday night, which was last night, and the time that I got the letter I thought of it when I was reading the letter and what a fine time they must be having about the time I was reading the letter. I am glad to hear of the boys having such good times. I should like to be there myself to have some fun with, but is not very convenient for me to just now. I think perhaps in about 17 months I can make it

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convenient to come unless the war should close sooner, which I hope and trust it may, and then as you say when we do get home, if we don’t have a great time then there is no use in talking and them there will be someone more to go and see then the secesh girls that five down here. That amount about as much as a hill of beans. Mother, I want you to be sure and have Asa L. write to me and have him get his photograph taken and send that to me too. Father says that he weighs 178 pounds. If he does he is a bigger man than I am for I only weigh 175, but I believe that I can take him down if he is the biggest for I never felt better in my life than I do now. Oh, I liked to have forgotten to tell you that Web Wood’s father has been down here to see him. He came down here Sunday and stay 3 days. We was very glad to see him. I tell what, it makes us feel glad to see any come down here that we know. I wish it could have been so you could have come down with him. You would have had a good time. E. A. Blanchard

[Thursday], March the 24th, 1864 Dear Father, Eli and myself received each a letter from you and Mother last Friday. We were glad to hear that you were all well and I hope that this letter will find you still the same. I was down to camp yesterday. Saw Eli, he was well. While I was down to camp, it commenced snowing and I had to come home in the storm. But when I got home, I only stayed long enough to cut some wood. I wanted to go over to Mr. Friman’s about a half a mile away so I started off in the snow. Got there just before dark. I went over for the purpose of having a little talk with the family. They were glad to see me and I had to shake hands with them all. I had a good visit. I had been to supper but they would make me eat again. We had biscuit and butter, cornbread, meat, and coffee. I got a song while I was over there. Title of it is “The Southern Girl,” and the next time I write to you I will send you the verses. I would send it to you now but my paper is about run out. Eli has got plenty of it and I will get some of him when I go to camp again. Everything seems to indicate that the Army of the Potomac will have some hard fighting to do next summer. There is three corps on their way from the south. We’re to join this army and I understand that Grant is going to command in person. But it is hard to tell what will be accomplished. The citizens all around here say that this war will not end in Old Abe’s time, and they say if he is elected next fall the war will last four years longer. They did not like Lincoln’s proclamation about freeing the niggers. Little Mack they say is their man, but Little Mack I tell them can never be president. But if I thought that if by his being president would end the war in an honorable way, I would vote for him. But I think he will never get my vote. The man that I am guarding has been nigger driver for seven years and he says he knows something about niggers. He seems to be a very nice man, only when he gets mad then he will make things fly. He has got an awful temper. Well, we have had a big snow storm and the snow is eight inches deep. I think we will stay a

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week or two longer yet. Everything is quiet. I have not heard any cannon for several days. It is about time to hear some. I will write no more at present. Frank Blanchard

Friday, April the first, 1864 Dear Mother, I received your kind letter several days ago and will now answer it. Eli and myself are both well and enjoying life. I saw Eli today and he says he has bully times and it is the same with me. Today is the first day of April, and it is a rainy, wet day. Web has been up here today. He has been making me a ring out of bone. He says it is worth a dollar but he does not ask me anything for it. I like Web first rate and I think he is a nice young man. He has always been a friend to me, and I will be a friend to him. I bought me a photograph album to put my photographs in. It cost one dollar and 25 cents and it will hold sixteen pictures. I have not got my picture taken yet. I am going to get the negative taken and send it to you, and then you can go up to Plymouth or anywhere else that you wish. Only, be sure and go to a good place and don’t you come away until you get a good picture. Some places they can take them good and some places they cannot. When you get the picture, you must be very careful and not get it scratched. If the picture gets scratched, it will be spoiled. I would not show it until you get it photographed. I have got my 20-dollar check, yet I shall not send home my allotment this time and I will tell you the reason why I don’t send it. You know I always have sent home my money as soon as I received it. I am going to let the sutler have my check and he is going to pay me 20 dollars in greenbacks. But I suppose you would like to know what I am going to do with so much money. The people where I am on guard wants to get a barrel of flour, and flour is worth fourteen dollars and forty cents a barrel, and they have not got money enough to get a barrel and I am going to let them have some money to get a barrel of flour. I think I will let them have eight dollars. They can pay it back to me in three or four days. They get 25 and 30 cents apiece for pies, and the soldiers like pies, and they will buy them as fast as Miss Hawkins can bake them, so I will soon get my money back. I think Miss Hawkins is a nice, smart girl. You need not think that I will enlist again while this war lasts, and I don’t think that I will enlist with her when it is over because I think I can find girls enough north. And I think I can pick one that will suit me and she will be willing to enlist with me for life. Well, I guess that you have read about all the nonsense that you care about reading at one time, so I will jump off onto something else.

Saturday the second of April, 1864 When I got up this morning the ground was covered with snow. We are having our winter now and had our summer last winter. The thing is just reversed, that is all, and if by having a winter, a long cold winter, now will keep us from moving, I would prefer the winter rather than to move. I want Asa L. photograph to put in my album. I am going to get a photograph of Eli. He has got two or three left yet. When you write to me again tell

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me something about Gess Chilson. I understand that he had bought out Colurn so as to be near his father-in-law when he got married. I heard something about his being out to Ypsilanti and something about his having to leave the state. I do not know how true it is. When you write again, please let me know whether the reports are true or not. You need not say anything to anybody about it, not even Alice or her mother. I will write no more at present. This from your son,

F. A. Blanchard, Co. K, 24th Mich. Vo.

Thursday, April the 7th, 1864 Dear Father, I now rest myself down to answer that good, long letter you wrote to me. Mr. Sanders brought it up to me yesterday morning. I think that you gave me all the praise that I deserve, and I am afraid more than I deserve. I saw Eli too yesterday. He is well as ever. I am still on my old place on safeguard. It will seem almost like leaving home . They are nice, acceptable people. And the girl, she is smart and witty, and it is hard work to get the start of her. She is not to be beat in an argument. She will not give an inch of ground, and as a general thing, have the last word. She is good and kind to all that are kind to her, and she would do anything in the world for anybody in distress if it was in her power. I have not got my picture taken yet but I am a-going to have it taken, the negative of it, and send it to New York and have it photographed. I think they can take photographs in New York better than anywhere else. The rainy weather is over with now. I think we are going to have some pleasant weather now for a few days. It is very pleasant today and looks as if winter had broke. The cold weather is over, the birds are singing sweetly, the trees begin to put forth their leaves. Everything seems to be at peace, but how long will it be so? We do not know what tomorrow will bring forth. I am thinking it will not be many days before we will [leave] here onward to Richmond, then there will be some hard fighting done. You said that you heard that I was going to be promoted to orderly Sergeant. I have not said anything about it to anybody and I am not a-going to say anything to anybody. If they want to promote me, they can do so; and if they don’t, they can let it alone. I know one thing: I think I had ought to be promoted. I think the best way is to keep still and say nothing. When Spalding gets back, if he ever does get back, I think I will stand a chance. I want you to keep still and say nothing. I think that is the best way. I sent a letter to Aunt Hannah yesterday. If you want to see it you can. I don’t know as I have anything more to write at present. F. A. Blanchard

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Camp Meade, Virginia April the 15th, 1864 Dear Father and Mother, I received from you last night good, long letter. It was just such a one as I always like to get. It had been just a week since I had received one from you. I was glad to hear you were all right and getting along well. Frank and I are both well as usual and all right except me, and I have got a plaguey sore arm. I got vaccinated about a week ago and I thought it was not going to work, and I went out to playing ball and caught cold in it and it swelled up pretty bad so that I have [been] about sick for two or three days. But it is a good deal better now and will be all right in a few days if I don’t take cold again, and I shall look out for that. Franklin took the scab that you sent us from Bonny’s arm up where he stays so he can vaccinate himself. I pity him if he has such a sore arm as I have had. It would be a pretty rough thing if we should have to march before his arm should get well if it should happen to work and I guess it will, for it looked like pretty good stuff. Well, it is raining again tonight as usual and I am rather glad of it, for there are pretty strong signs of marching. And if it rains, it will be pretty [sure to] stop them for a while. It has rained more here for the last three weeks than I ever knew it to before in the same length of time in my life. We have been having a few days of very fair weather for a few days back and it dried up considerable in that length of time, but commenced again tonight and looks like raining for three weeks more. I hope it will rain, for until it gets through and then hold on about two months so we have a good time through the spring campaign. But I suppose if it don’t rain there will be more fighting to do. But the more fighting we have to do, the sooner the war will come to a close; and the sooner it closes, the better it will suit me, for I want to come home all killing bad. It is just 20 months tonight since I left home. No, hold on, that ain’t right. But I come within two weeks of it and the boys say that is about as near as I generally come to the truth, but I tell them it is not so. I may tell things a little out of the way to some of the boys down here, but when write home I always come as near the truth as I can. Well, the sutlers has all been ordered away from the army, as you have probably heard before this time, and will not be allowed back until after the spring campaign is over. We expect to see some tough times before it is over. We understand that General is going to leave a sufficient force in Washington to hold that against any moves they can make on it, and then forward a sufficient amount of supplies for this army and then not try to keep up a communication between here and there. And then we will advance as far as James River and get our supplies from there and then let the rebs go to Washington if they want to. We will go to Richmond and probably take it and if they undertake to go to Washington, they will be pretty apt to get slipped up on it. I come near to forgetting to say we sent off our extra clothing this morning to Alexandria where they will stay until we go into winter quarters again. I sent an overcoat and a blanket. All Franklin sent was an overcoat. But I had two blankets and one is all I can carry on the march. It is nine o’clock and I must stop writing. I forgot to speak about 2 or 3 things but I will try and think of it some other time. Write soon as you can and tell Asa L. to answer the letter I wrote him a few weeks ago. Goodbye, Eli A. Blanchard

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April the 19th, 1864

Dear Father, I received a letter from you last Saturday evening. It was mailed at Northville. You said that you and Asa L. were going to get your photographs taken. I am looking for them every day. I expect that before this, you have got my likeness. It was some time, Asa, that I sent it. I was down to camp last night. I saw Eli. He is well and enjoying life as well as ever anybody ever did. I am well and still on safe guard. Everything seems to indicate that we are going to make a move shortly. They have been running siege guns through Culpeper on the bars. They are taking them to the front. I think there will be some sieging done. The army are going to draw hardtack again. We have been drawing soft bread all winter. It will come rather tough now to break right off and live on hardtack, but we can carry them a great deal better than we can soft bread and I am thinking will be glad to get hardtack in the course of a few weeks. I was down to the Second Division last night. I went by the commissary and I saw a big sack of hardtack boxes piled up. I should think there was a thousand boxes and fifty pounds in each box. I think if the weather keeps good we will move in the course of a week. We have had no warm weather yet. The Blue Ridge is covered with snow, and as long as there is snow to be seen on the mountains, it is going to be cold. The citizens say they never knew the snow to stay on so long as it has this spring. While I am writing, there [are] musketeers. The men are out practicing shooting at targets today. I don’t think that I will go out to practice today. It is too much work to clean my gun. I went off the other day and shot off a few rounds and I had a right smart time cleaning my gun. I don’t know but what you will think I am getting lazy. Well, I don’t know but what I am, but I am thinking I will have to come to time when we march; and I don’t know but what it will come rather tough on me out. I think I am able to bare the pressure. I have got all of my money back that I let Mr. Hawkins have to buy flour with. You need not feel uneasy. I will write no more at present. Someday I will write you a good, long letter. This ink is so poor, I don’t know as you can read this letter. It is not the fault of the pen, but the ink is too thick and I have to bare down too hard to make it give down. Write soon. This from your son, Franklin A. Blanchard

Worthy Blanchard

Camp Meade, Virginia Sunday evening, April the 24th, 1864 Dear Brother, I received your kind and welcome of the 18th last night. I was very glad to hear from you and was still more pleased to get your photograph. You said you thought it was a good picture but there is where I differ with you. I think it is a first rate one. At any rate,

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it looked much better than I expected. I see by the way it looks you must have grown considerable since I left home. I suppose you are about as tall as I am now and you will probably weigh more than I do, but I believe I could take you down if you are the heavier, for I am about as stout a chap as they generally find in the army. But I have said enough about that. I don’t as a general thing brag much about myself, but if I don’t do it, it would not be done at all. So, once in a while I have to say a little to make folks think I am somebody, whether I am or not. Well, Frank and I are both well as usual and getting along all right. Frank was down here this morning to see me and we had a very good visit. I was up there to see him last night. When I went up there I expected it would be the last time I would have a chance (here is) to go up there for we have (a big) thought we should have (grease spot) to not march today. Web went up with me. He goes up there pretty often. I had a first rate time. We stayed until 11 o’clock. Web has been up there again today. He manages to go up there about 7 days in a week. I don’t know but he has fallen in love with that girl up there. He used to say he was going up to see Frank, but he has got to going up there so much, he don’t say so much about going to see him as he used to. The boys in the reg’t have all got hold of it and they bother him considerable about it. But as I was saying, when I was up there last night I thought it would be the last time I should go there and it may be yet, for all I know. But today things go pretty plainly to [illegible]. We will stay here quite a spell yet, for the sutlers have been ordered up with goods for 20 days and they would not be [illegible] to do that unless we calculated to stay that length of time. Well, if we stay here as long as that, I should be satisfied to move when the 20 days is up, for I am anxious to see the thing hurried up as fast as possible. I can’t see for my part why we have not left before this, for the weather has become settled now and I don’t see anything to stop our going ahead. The weather is pretty now, or has been for the last week. The peach trees been in blossom now for about two weeks and things begin a good deal like summer. I suppose the trees are in blossom at home by this time. But I came very near forgetting one thing, and that is I saw Gen. Grant the other day. He is a very fine-looking man and I don’t put as much as the most of the generals do. When I saw him he only had a lieut’ and an orderly with him. Other generals, when they ride out, generally have about a hundred officers after them, but he is altogether different from them. I should taken him to have been a col. or major if he had have six stars on his shoulders. When he came along I was saluted and put on all the style I could and managed to do it pretty well. He returned the compliment just as if he was nothing but a common soldier and was not ashamed to speak to anybody. I think if he only has a chance he will wind the thing up this summer. Goodbye. Write soon, E. A. B.

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April the 29th, 1864

Dear Cousin, your letter came on time. I was glad to hear from you, but sorry you did not send your photograph. But I think the next letter I receive from you I will receive your photograph. You must ask my mother to let you have one of my photographs. I think she has got some. I suppose you are going to school this summer. I think you told me in your last letter that you were going to school. I think you have got a very good teacher. Emma is a good teacher and you must try and learn all you can so when you get to be a young woman you can teach school like Emma Brunson. I suppose you have got to be considerable larger than you were when I saw you last. I am in hopes we shall all live to see each other again sometime. I am going to send you a secesh song I cut out of a Washington paper. I will write no more, so goodbye. F. A. Blanchard

Camp Meade, Virginia April the 30th, ‘64 Dear Parents, I have just been reading a letter that you wrote to Frank. I should not have done so, but he was just here when the mail came and as I knew it was from you, I thought I would break it open and read it. And after reading it, it made me feel as if I wanted to write. So I thought I would do no harm in answering it, and when he comes to read it, he will answer it too. And in that way, you will get two answers from one letter and that is better than the most of folks do. I should have written an answer to this one, but I expect I owe you a letter. And when I get one from home, I always feel like setting down and answering it; so I thought I had better answer what I owe while I feel like it. Well, Franklin and myself are both well. I believe I went up to see him yesterday and he was all right then. I expected he would be down here today, but for some reason or another, he has not come. He will probably be down here in the morning and will stay till after noon. I thought when I wrote my last letter I should not write you another one in this camp, but we have not moved yet. Nearly all of the cavalry and artillery have moved and we expect to move in a short time; although, we may stay here a month yet. There are a great many rumors about camp, some of one thing and some of another. Some say we are going to stay here and guard this post, some say we are going to Harper’s Ferry to do guard duty, others think we are going to Baltimore. I think we will be full as apt to go to the front as anywhere. And if there is any fighting to [be] done, our boys will have to help but as usual. The Mich. Brigade of Cavalry moved the other day, and moved up pretty close to where we are so that we see some of them every day. There was a Dutchman from the 10th Cavalry came over here to see me and Frank the other day. He called his name Peeter Shon. He seemed very glad to see me. He said he used to work for Becker, but I can’t recollect of ever seeing him before. He is the one you spoke about last winter. He has

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some great stories to tell about his being home. You know, he is a reenlisted veteran. He says he wrote a letter to you a while ago and has received no answer yet. He wanted me to find out whether you had received one from him yet. His co., which is Co. G, are on ordnance duty in Culpeper for Gen. Warren, the commander of our corps. It is getting late and the candle is nearly [out] and I will not write any more tonight but will finish my letter in the morning.

Sunday Evening It has been a very warm and pleasant day today. The grass has got a good start and it makes the hills and valleys through here look very pleasant. If it was not for there being so many soldiers here it would almost seem like home. We have been having some very pleasant weather down here for a while. It seems almost too good weather to be laying in camp and doing nothing. The things go today. I don’t think we will stay here a great while. We just got news from corps headquarters that we had marching orders and there is a good deal of bustling about and getting ready and nearly everyone thinks we will go. We expect the col. will be here tonight. I hope he will and I hope he will bring those socks you spoke about. The general idea of the men are when we do move there will be a big fight. But we are not sure of moving very soon. Goodbye and write soon, E. a. B.

You said in your letter that Allen Blanchard had got back from California – had come to Mich. to see his father and sister. If he does not go back before this gets to you, tell him I should be very happy to have him write me a letter and his sister too. I would like very much to hear from her. Give them both my best respects and be sure and have them write and I will answer their letters as soon as I get them. The paper and postage stamps you talked of sending us will be very acceptable as both are very scarce. Be sure and write soon. I received a letter from Aunt Hannah day before yesterday. If you see her, tell her I will answer it in a day or two. Frank was down here today and we had a very good visit. We have been drawing clothing today and I got a pair of shoes to march in. I think I shall stand the march first rate this summer. The col. has just come and the boys are all in a bustle to go up and see him. I don’t know whether he has brought the socks or not. I guess I will not write any more tonight. I shall expect to get an extra letter for writing this.

May the 2nd, ‘64 Near City Point Dear Father, As I have nothing to do at present, I will address a few lines to you and let you know that Eli and myself are both well and I hope these lines will find you all the same. It has been

146 some time since I have had a letter from home. I am expecting one every mail since I last wrote to you. We have had quite a noisy time of it here. Of all the cannonading I ever heard, I think last Saturday morning beat any that I ever heard. Precisely at five o’clock, the rebels’ fort blowed up at the same time our canon and mortars opened along the whole line. There was a great deal of musketry at the same time, but we could not hear it. The cannon and mortars drowned the musketry. I was not too up to the front to see, and if I had been there, I could not have seen a great deal; only smoke, and I can tell you there was a-plenty of that. At present, I am back to City Point with the sutler. I am guarding for him now, and I expect to stay with him for some time. I have first rate times, have a- plenty of good things to eat. I will tell you how I happened to be at the sutler’s: I had a sore toe, I went to the doctor’s, he said he guessed he would send me to the hospital but he thought the sutler’s would be a good place for me, so he sent me there. My toe is sore yet and I don’t know as I care much whether it gets well this summer or not. One thing is certain: I am not going into another fight this summer. I, of course, go a little lame; and as long as I go lame, there is no danger of my going into a fight. I have been through everything so far, and been in about every fight, but after this, I am going to look out for number one. Whenever I want a pass or an excuse I can get it, and when we are on a march, if I am with the regiment I shall have one. You need not read this letter to anyone but Mother. I think Mother will be pleased when she reads this letter and finds out I am not going to any more battles. But you must keep it to yourselves, for if the Colonel knew it was my intention not to go into anymore fights, he might make me go. We are going to be paid off in two or three days. The paymaster is here now. The flies bother me so that I can hardly write, so I must close my letter. Write soon, Franklin A. Blanchard

Near Spotsylvania Courthouse, VA May the 20th, 1864 My Dear Parents, I have now a chance to send you another letter and you may be assured that I shall let no opportunity pass without improving the chance. I will commence my letter by saying Frank and myself are all right as that I suppose is the first thing you wanted to find out. Day before yesterday, we were ordered from the hospital to report to our regiments. I suppose we will stay with it during the rest of the campaign except in time of action. Our brigade lays in the front line of breastwork and in plain sight of the rebs. The skirmish lines keep up pretty brisk firing. The most of the time and now and then, a chance shot comes over this way but as luck would have it no one has been hit yet. Now and then a shell comes over but as the boys are in the breastworks, they seldom do any damage. The reg’t lay today in the same place they [did] the other day when I wrote you. The boys, taking everything into consideration, are, I believe, in as good spirits as I ever saw them. Of course, they don’t feel as merry as they generally would;

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for many a brave comrade that used to share their spirits with them are now laid low to share their spirits with them no more on earth. But when they think how nobly they fell in defense of our country that our forefathers so bravely fought and won, they seem to be inspired with something more than natural spirits. There is another thing that makes them feel better than they would if it were the other way, and that is our entire success in nearly every point of attack. And as we receive news from one point to the other, the boys set up such a cheering and shouting as to be heard for 5 or 6 miles. Even now while I write, I can hear the troops on our right flank raising cheer upon cheer. I will tell you what it is about: yesterday afternoon, the 2nd corps was laying on our right. About an hour from sundown, they left the breastworks and fell back into the woods about a mile from there and left a heavy skirmish line in front, but the rebs soon found out they had left and they thought they had began a retreat and boldly advanced on the vacant works in two lines of battle, calculating to sweep everything before them. But they did not get far beyond our works when they run into a snag. Our cannon soon began to throw grape into at a terrible fast rate and in less than 5 minutes, the whole of the 2nd corps that they supposed had retreated came filing out of the woods down on them with the power of an avalanche which soon set them flying in all directions besides capturing a large amount of prisoners. After driving them about two miles, the rebels rallied and tried to drive them back but it was no use; our breastworks were in our possession again besides a large amount of prisoners, and it inspires the boys with new hope of success and with brighter thoughts that the victory is so much nearer now. And at this rate, it will not take long to strike them such a blow as to lay them out for a time. And by that time, we will give them another one that will be a deliverer on them entirely. I only wish it was over with now, for it does seem to me as if there had sacrificed enough already. But the boys don’t think of that. They are bound to fight as long as there is a man left and a good will goes a good ways. It is all still on the skirmish line now and both parties seem to have drawn in their lines a little. I guess they are going to take a rest. I hope so, for the boys are pretty well tired out and a little rest would come good. Since the fight began, the boys have been in nine warm engagements besides several skirmishes and being in range of the enemy’s shell. Franklin has just been writing a letter to you. He seems to feel first rate and feels sure he is coming out all right, which I hope and trust he may keep up good courage and hope for the best. And don’t think if you don’t get any letters from as often as you expect that something is the matter with us, for we can’t send out a mail every time we want to and when we do, we are not sure they will ever reach you. I don’t know as you will ever get this one but if I don’t send it now, I may not get another chance. Be ‘sured I shall write at every offered opportunity. Goodbye, E. a. B.

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May the 30th, 1864 Dear Mother, I will just write you a few words to let you know that I am alive and well. Eli is all right and with the band. We are within 15 miles of Richmond. I have no more time to write. Franklin A. Blanchard

Camp on the field near PA Monkey River May the 31st, 1864 Dear Parents, I now take the offered opportunity of writing you a few lines to let you know we are getting along. In the first place, I will tell you that Frank and I are all right and well. There has been considerable fighting going on since I wrote you last and there is a prospect of being some more. Our reg’t has not been engaged but once since I wrote you and then our loss was very light. We only lost 5 or 6 wounded and none killed. I forget the name of the place that the engagement took place but it was somewhere on the south side of the North Anna River. And if the rebs ever got a whipping, they got it that night. You have probably heard all about it long before this. We have done some pretty hard marching since then. We sometimes start in the morning and march all day and night and all day again without stopping only long enough to get our meals but for the last day or two. But we have not marched so fast for two or 3 days back. We crossed the river last Saturday and we are now only 4 miles from there, but we have advances very cautious and careful. Our division has not moved more than a half a mile at a time since we crossed the river yesterday afternoon about two o’clock. The third division of our corps run into the rebs and soon brought on an engagement. But we were prepared for them and in less than 10 minutes, we had 3 lines of battle formed in front of them when the rebs thought we only [had] one. Our division was in the 3rd line of battle and in good breastworks and we never lost a man. I tell you what, our boys give them a good licking. We are getting nearer Richmond every day and it will not be long before we get quite there. Our boys are laying in the breastworks this morning and everything is all quiet except now and then some cannonading. The band are about a half a mile in the rear of the reg’t, ready to take care of the boys if any should come in wounded, which I hope will not. I have not got time to write anymore at present but will write again as soon as I get the chance. We have not received letters from you but once since we left Culpeper. I hope we shall get more soon. Goodbye for this time, E. A. Blanchard

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June the 4th, 1864 Dear Mother, I now take my pen in hand to write you a few more lines. Eli and myself are well. I am sitting on my knapsack, leaning against a tree, and while I am writing the fight goes on. They are now fighting on our left. Smith and Butler are on our left. I think it is Smith that is engaged now. We have been under fire for the last four days. There has been a number killed and wounded in the 24th. There has been two wounded in Co. K since I wrote to you last. Sergeant Smith and Private Jameson were both wounded. I had a narrow escape the other day. I had my rubber blanket rolled up and buckled on top of my knapsack. I was laying behind a tree with it on. A shell busted near me. A piece of it struck the roll on my knapsack and tore three large holes in it. I can tell you what it is, we have to lay low sometimes and then we are not safe. We are behind breastworks now, about sixty rods from the rebel breastworks. We can see them very plain. Our skirmishers are out in front of us pecking away at the reb skirmishers. There is a great many balls comes over us. We had two men killed yesterday and seven wounded. We are now within eight miles of Richmond. I am afraid it will be hard work to get any farther. We don’t get any mail now. I have had no letters from home since I left Culpeper. I believe Eli has had two letters from home but not very lately. I don’t know as I have anything more to write at present. You hear more news than we do. We can’t get any papers and you can. I will write again soon. This from your son, F. A. Blanchard

Near Coal Harbor, VA June the 6th, 1864 Dear Parents, It has been some time since I have written you. You may think it is neglect on my part that I do not write oftener, but I tell you it is not. I would send you a letter every day if I could, but the reg’t are most always in the front line of battle and it is only once in a while that we have a chance to go to it and then we have some risk to run before we get to the breastworks. Last night our corps moved within a mile or two of the harbor and this morning are having a resting spell and we are now up with the reg’t. Frank is all right and feels first rate. He has had some pretty close calls but none of them close enough to do him any severe damage. The other day he had his rubber blanket pretty badly torn from a piece of shell but it never touched him. There is not a man in the whole reg’t that does his duty better than he does. There are some of the boys that try to slink out when they go into a fight and will run as soon as fired at, but he never runs unless the reg’t starts and the boys all say there is not a better soldier in the army than him. I received a letter from you yesterday. Frank got two at the same time. It was the first one I have had since we left Spotsylvania. I had begun to think I never would get another letter from you, but it came at last. I felt good. I don’t believe we get all the letters you send and I am almost sure you don’t get all we send for when we send out letters. We

150 don’t know as they ever reach the office. But if we don’t send every time we get a chance, we might not get any through and then you would think we were goners anyway. Last night we could hear them booming away at Richmond with the gunboats. It was the heaviest firing I ever heard in my life. It fairly jarred the ground where we were which was nine miles from there. I tell you what, it made the boys feel good to hear it, for it made the boys feel that there was someone at work besides them. The boys are in excellent spirits and feel confident of success. We are getting strong reinforcements every day and things look more favorable every day. There has a great many troops came out from Washington, more than from any other place as yet. And when Sherman and Hooker and Sigel gets here, as we understand they are coming, we will have an army such as the world never saw and one that the confederacy will not be able to stand under but a short time. Every fight we have here we seem to come out ahead. They had a pretty large one on the left of our corps last night and the report is that they captured 7,000 prisoners and 40 pieces of cannon besides killing and wounding a great many more. The boys all have great confidence in Grant and think there never was a man like him. He has out-generaled Lee in every point and I should think he would get discouraged before long. I know his men are, for they say it. They are constantly coming in to our lines and declare themselves that they are very near played out. They think Grant plays his cards a great deal better than McClellan did and everything looks more favorable than ever. If the people keep as good spirits as the most the soldiers do in the army, it will not take long to end the war. Write oftener if you can. Goodbye, E. A. B.

Wednesday, June the 8th, 1864 Dear Mother, I am now writing at the roots of a large locust tree engaged in writing a few lines to you. Eli and I are both well and I hope you are the same. We have not done much marching of late but have been to the front the most of the time. There has not been much fighting. For the last three days, the old Iron Brigade is doing picket duty on the Chickahominy River near Bottom’s Bridge. Our pickets and the rebs made a compromise yesterday not to fire at each other on picket. The rebs came across the river on a log and had a long talk. They traded knives and coffee for tobacco. They acknowledge they have been badly whipped in the Shenandoah Valley. They say Grant will never get as near to Richmond as McClellan, but we will show them where we will be by the Fourth of July. We are receiving reinforcements every day and by the first of July, we will have a large army in the field. Every now and then, we can hear heavy guns fired a long ways off. I think it must be our gunboats on the James River. I expect some of our forces are within six miles of the damned city. We are not as near as we were the other day. It is fourteen from here to Richmond, so the citizens tell us. We have just been ordered to clean up our guns and be ready for inspection at one o’clock, and as I have not much time to get ready in, I will cut my letter short by concluding that I have not received those photographs yet.

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Eli and myself have not received any letters for several days. You must write as often as you can. No more at present, Franklin A. Blanchard

P.S. I suppose you have seen John Fox by this time. He must be at home by this time. He said he was going to our house when he got home. F. A. B.

In breastworks near Petersburg June the 23rd, 1864 Dear Mother, It has not been very long ago since I wrote you a letter but as I have nothing to do without I to write, I thought I would scribble a few lines whilst sitting in our breastworks for your perusal. I have been thinking of my many true and warmhearted friends; not only of there allied to me by kindred ties and by the soldier chain of friendship cemented by many glorious recollections of other days of peace, but I have also been thinking of the many truehearted friends who shall ever live in memory’s honors though thousands of miles from home and friends. I have been thinking of friendships formed when the star of hope for our nation’s prosperity was almost obscured from view. And when the strong hearts trembled and quailed before the storm – yes I am now thinking of friendships formed while in the tented field – when the lurid light leaped forth from the cannon’s mouth, when in tones of thunder they sent forth their missiles of death and destruction, I am thinking of the pleasant hours I have spent in the camps and in the humble dwellings by which they were surrounded. And I am thinking of the hearts that are lonely and the faces wet with tears for those who will never return to cheer their lonely paths with kind words and pleasant miles. Then, of course, I think of you and Father and of my brothers. Oho! How I would like to see you all. But it will be months and perhaps a year or more before I shall be permitted to home. You must keep in the best of spirits the same as I do, and all will be well in the end. Since I left home, many thousands of our bravest have been launched out upon the grand ocean of eternity and called upon to try the realities of an unknown world to which we are all fast hastening. But I will turn my thoughts to something else and not be quite so sullen. I heard from Eli last night. He is at the division hospital is Doctor Beech’s right-hand man. Eli holds all legs and arms that is taken off by Doctor Beech. He has had so much to do for a few days past that he has not been up to see me. But I send word every now and then that I am all right. This is a very warm day and if it was not for a cool breeze that is blowing, we would almost suffocate. We have laid in our works day and night so much that we are beginning to look rather rusty. We cannot go out and walk around and stretch ourselves as we would like to do, we have to lay in our works all day. If we show our heads above the works we are in danger of being hit. But we have to get water or go thirsty, so some of the boys get wounded or killed

152 going for water at night. There is not much firing done and then is the time we draw our rations. We carry our wood up at night and when we camp, we have to build a fire in our works. It may look rather hard but then we get used to it. Last night we drawed two days rations to make up for with the rations we had. We are fed well. The army never lived better than it does at the present time. We don’t get soft bread, for it is unheard of. We draw beans, potatoes, dried apples, beef, pork, hard bread, salt, pepper, and chowchow; but perhaps you don’t know what chowchow is. Well, it is cabbage and vinegar. We had more than we could eat in a week dealt out to us last night. I sent a Washington paper to Father last night and inside of the paper, I put a Deed of Land that I got on the battlefield. I found it in a knapsack. It was in one of our men’s knapsacks so it must have been taken out of some house that had been deserted. I sent home the deed because I thought you would like to see it. The deed is worth nothing. I only sent it home because I thought it would be a curiosity. When you write again, send me some stamps. I am just out – only have two left. But it is now noon and it is time to have something to eat, so I must close and I do so hoping you will write me a long letter as soon as convenient and tell me all the news. May this find you well and happy is the wish of your son,

F. A. Blanchard

4th Div. Hosp. near Petersburg, VA Sunday, June the 26th, ‘64 Dear Mother, I now set myself down to write you a few lines to let you know we are all well and getting along finely. We have moved up a little nearer the front than we were when I wrote you last and I am where I can see Frank every day, for they[are] in the same place they did before we came up. I tell you what, the boys have had a pretty hot time for the last 4 or 5 days. Last night our brigade was relieved last night for 24 hours which will be up by nine o’clock tonight and then they will have to go to the front for the next 24 hours. But they have got good works up there and there is no danger as long as the boys keep their heads down and they are pretty sure to look out for that. The rebs’ breastworks are so close to ours that neither sides have out their skirmishers and do all of their firing from their breastworks. And them that don’t shoot and keep low will not get hit. Frank has [come] up here to see me today and when I get done writing. He stands it first rate and says he never was better in his life than he is now with the exceptions of a sore toe and that bothers him considerable but not enough to excuse him from duty. The rebs are very strongly entrenched in front of us and it is going to be very hard work for our men to get them unless we could flank them out. And since Frank is such a one for flanking I should not wonder if he done it if the rebs only give him half a chance. If he don’t do that, he may siege them out or dig them out the way he did at Vicksburg. But there is no telling what he may do. He seems to manage it pretty well and he seems to suit the boys pretty

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well. The soldiers all think there never was a better man than he has been. He will salute a private soldier just as quick as he will an officer. We have just heard from City Point where our general hospital is and the doctors sent up word from there that they would like to have our band come down there to take care of the wounded. They heard of our being a lot of first class nurses and they would like to have us come down there to take care of some of their worst cases. If we go, we would have better fare than we do here and we could take a ride on the river once in a while. I would like to go first rate but for one thing, and that is if Frank should get wounded I would want to be here to take care of him on the start and then I could go with him down there and take care of him myself. Where if I should go first, I would not be here to take care of him and then he might not come where I was so I could take care of him. And I shall stay here if I can. But if I can’t, I will make the best of it and hope for the best and run the chances of seeing him if he should get hit. If he should get hit, I would try and manage some way to get to him and I am [on] the right side of the doctors and I guess I could do pretty much as I pleased about it. Goodbye for this time, E. A. Blanchard

In [illegible] Petersburg June 28th, ‘64 Dear Mother, Your very welcome letter of the 20th came duly too fond and I am assure you it was a very welcome guest. I am well and so is Eli. He received a letter from Asa L. last night. Asa L.’s letter and yours were written on the same day and they both came together. I never have received those photographs you sent me and I never expected to. There is several letters that you have written to me that I have never received. When any of you write to me after this, number your letters and when there is one missing I can tell how often you write. You spoke of writing to me a week ago. I have received no letters from home except this one for over two weeks. You can send them photographs right away if you can get a chance. You had better put the letter in the office at Detroit. Who is it that keeps the post office at Farmington? They may be honest and then they may not be. We were relieved from the front last Saturday night. This will make the third day that we have laid back in reserve. We are going to take the front again tonight. We will stay on for three days and then we will be relieved again. This is a nice cool morning and we feel very comfortable. It has been so warm of late that it seemed as though we would roast. I was writing a letter yesterday. The sweat poured off from me, almost in streams, and it was almost impossible to write. I have written a number of letters home of late yesterday and day before. I did not write home. I was determined not to write home until I received a letter. Last night, about eleven o’clock, I received one from you and this morning I am trying to answer it. Last night, Burnside was throwing mortars over into the rebs’ works. They threw a 24-pound ball. We went out last night to see them practice. The shell goes

154 nearly straight up at first. Some of them go up a thousand feet and when they come down they are expected to strike right over the works. They look splendid when they burst. You have seen rockets throwed at night on a fourth of July, but that is but a slight comparison compared with this. You can see the fuse burning when it leaves the mortar, and it keeps burning until the shell bursts or goes out. Once in a while a shell won’t burst. I think that the siege of Petersburg has commenced. Burnside has got 18 thirty-two pounders cannon and more are on the way. Sanders and me went out yesterday. We had a field glass with us. We got on a rising of ground and looked off in the direction of Petersburg. We can see three steeples but we cannot see the body. It is down in a hollow. We can see some manufacturing establishments this side of the town. On one of the steeples, we could see a man. He was there for the purpose of watching Grant’s movements. He had a flag in his hand and was making signals. There is none in our army that can understand their signals and there is none in their army that can understand our signals. Well, I must bring my letter to a close and go over and see Eli and give him his letter. You may send me some stamps. I have a good deal of writing to do and of course I must have stamps. I have got six correspondences besides my own folks but they do not get as many letters as you do. If they did I should have to write all the time. I get letters most every mail and I do believe I get the least from home of and yet I write home, either Eli or me, most every day. I will number this letter and you can do the same with your letters. No more at present. This from your son, Franklin A. Blanchard

Wednesday the 29th, 1864 Near City Point, VA Dear Father, as I have not written a letter to you in some time, I will endeavor this pleasant morning to scribble a few lines for your perusal. I am well and in fine spirits, and I hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessings. I have not seen Eli for over a week but I hear from him every day or two. He is well. It is 15 miles from here to where the regiment lays and some of the way the roads are awful bad. The reason the sutlers do not go up to the front, they think the rebels are going to make another attempt to recapture the Weldon and Petersburg Railroad. If they do attempt it, they will not be successful. Our lines are very strong. Besides, we have got the timber where there is any woods cut down in front of our lines in such a manner that it would be impossible for the rebels to get through where there is nothing but cleared fields in front. We have got what we call an abatis. They are small trees cut down. The brush is cut off but the limbs left on. They are put in front of our breastworks. In this way, a skirmish line can keep back a large force well. We can now say that another year has passed away and yet the rebellion is not put down. We have had numbers of hard-fought battles, thousands of men have been killed on both sides, and many a-heart been broken and homes made desolate for the ones who will nevermore return. There has been some talk of peace. There is no one that

155 wants peace anymore than the soldiers. But we want an honorable peace – and such we will have if it takes every able-bodied man in the north. I think this peace talk is all nonsense. Jefferson Davis says they will be free and he says they will not give up if every plantation in the southern Confederacy is run over and ransacked and every southerner dies in his tracks. I don’t see why the north should talk peace when Jeff Davis talks in that way. It is not for us to offer terms of peace. It is for them to do, and I am inclined to think it will not be a great while before they will be glad to make peace on any terms. All we want now is about two hundred thousand more fresh troops. If we get them, the war will soon end; if we don’t get them, then the war may last a year or two longer. I saw General Meade this morning. Him and his staff rode by here. General Meade looks older than he did when I saw him last fall. His hair and whiskers have turned quite gray. Yesterday I thought I would take a little walk along by myself. I thought I would go back in the rear. The boys had been getting some green corn back somewhere. I started but did not go far before I came to the woods. I got in a path and followed it. I knew it would take me somewhere. I walked along about a mile and a half. I meant to go through the woods. I went about a half a mile farther. I could see a cleared spot ahead and the ruins of an old mill. I went up to it. The boards had all been stripped off from it. A millpond was close by. I sat down on the bank and amused myself by throwing little sticks in the water to see the fish come up to the top to bite them. If I had took along a hook and line I might have got some fish. I did not stay long at the millpond. I was soon on my way in search of green corn. I came out to a large open field; in the center stood a large brick chimney. Two months ago, there stood a splendid mansion. When a portion of our army came through by there they laid it in ashes. I did not care about going any farther, and I soon made up my mind to return and go some other day to look for green corn. I was about three miles from camp and I did not think it safe to venture any farther alone. I got back to camp a little before sundown all safe. I have nothing more to write today so I will bring my letter to a close. May this find you all well and happy is the wish of your son,

F. A. Blanchard

July the 19th, ‘64 In camp near Petersburg, VA Dear Father, I received your more than welcome letter last night. I also received one from Asa L. In your letter was three photographs. I would like to have you send six more; three of each. I want to send three – Kittie’s photographs to the state of Ohio to her brother. I think the pictures you sent are very good ones but not so good as the ones I sent to you. I have put Kittie’s and my photograph in my album. While I am writing, the rain comes pouring down. It looks as though we were going to have a long rain. It is very dry; this is the first

156 rain we have had since the 3rd of June. I would not wonder if we have a wet time of it, but I had about lives it would be a little wet as to be so awful dry and dusty. I wrote a few lines to Mother day before yesterday. I did not have time to write much. The mail was about ready to go out before I thought of writing. In Asa L.’s letter, I found a few stamps. They came just in time, I was just out. Eli got a letter last night. I expect it was from home. I have not been down to see him today but I am going as soon as I get through writing. Last Sunday night we had quite an exciting time of it. We were laying back in the woods on reserve where we are laying now. All at once the orders came to pack up and be ready to move out to the front. We knew there was something up. It was not our turn to go out to relieve, and we did not know but what we had got to charge the rebels works. We knew if we had got to charge there would be hundreds that would not live to see another day. The moon was shining bright and it was almost as light as day. After we had got our duds packed, we found out what it all meant. There had three deserters came in from the rebs’ line. One went to General Warren, one went to General Burnside, and the other went to General Meade. They all told the same story. They said the rebels were massing their forces and were going to charge our works at four o’clock in the morning. At eight o’clock we moved out to the front but both lines were full of men so we had to make another line of works in the rear of the second. And in the rear of us there had to be another, making four lines of battle. At 12 o’clock we had our works finished and laid down expecting the rebs would charge as soon as 4 o’clock. I went to sleep the minute I laid down and did not wake up until after 5 o’clock. The rebs did not charge and I don’t think they had any idea of charging in the morning. We came back to the rear and are here yet. I think we will have to go out and relieve the Second Brigade tonight. I am in hopes the rain will be over by the time we have to go out. If it rains the way it does now all day, I shall not go over to see Eli. I think after I put his letter in the office I will lay down and take a nap. We are looking for the paymaster every day. We are going to be paid off soon. I will write no more today. This from your son, Franklin A. Blanchard I will write to Asa L. in a few days.

July the 29th, 1864 In camp near Petersburg, VA Dear Mother, I received your welcome letter last evening. I was glad to hear that you were all well. Eli and myself are well and in good spirits. You say that you have not had any letters from Eli or I for over a week. I am sure a week is not very long to have to wait for a letter. I have had to wait three weeks to get a letter from home. I wrote a letter to Asa L. the other day. He no doubt has got it before this. We do not get much time to write now days. We have to work the most of the time. Yesterday we were tearing up the railroad. We tore up ties and all. The object of tearing it up is to have a dirt road in place of the railroad to

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bring up ammunition on. At present, we are having very pleasant weather. We had a nice rain last night. Today we have a nice, cool breeze. What do you think about the south wanting to make peace? For my part, I think it was all a hoax. But there may be something grown out of it yet. We are not a-going to speculate any on it. I think there is a slim chance to make peace now. We have got more hard fighting to do. If we only had them five hundred thousand men that has been called for, we could just overrun the south. Lincoln ought to have called for troops the first of May. If he had done that, we could have the men here now. If we only had two hundred thousand new men now the rebellion could not live six weeks. Give one hundred thousand to Sherman and the others to Grant I think that peace would soon crown our efforts. But the way things stand now it will take a year at least before the rebellion can be put down. The traitors must be conquered if it takes five years. It is only a question of time. And when the rebellion is crushed, slavery will be crushed with it. The thing has gone so far now that I would not give a snap to have peace if we cannot have an honorable one. I think that Lincoln has shown himself to be the right man in the right place. When he says a thing, he means what he says. And he always stands firm by what he has said. I am in hope he will be our next president and it ought to be the wish of every loyal man. The majority of the soldiers will vote for him next fall and I think he will be our next president. If he is elected president for the next four years, it will do more towards putting down the rebellion than the taking of Richmond by our army. I think you will hear a great deal of news before this campaign is over. Sherman is close on Atlanta. Our forces are harassing the rebels that are now in VA but have recently invaded my Maryland and are now on there way back to the fortifications of Richmond. Grant is getting everything ready so when he does open everything, is going to jar. We have got some enormous large forts and have got some large guns in them. Well, it is now time for the fatigue party to go out to work. We have been to dinner. It is now one o’clock. No more at present. May this find you well and happy is the wish of your son, Franklin A. Blanchard

August the 4th, 1864 Near Petersburg, VA Dear Mother, I am now going to write a few lines to let you know that I am well and in good spirits. Eli is well with the exception of the toothache. I was over and saw him this morning. He said his tooth did not ache as hard as it did yesterday. We are having very warm weather down here. It is so warm here nights that I don’t have anything over me. I am still at the sutlers. I have first rate times and I wish that I was certain that I could fare as well all the rest of my time while I am a soldier. I am willing to do anything but fight, and I am going to keep out as much as I can. I am pretty sure I shall not be in another battle this summer nor even next fall. As long as I can keep out of a fight honorably, I am going to do so. My

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toe is about the same. It does not pain me any, only when I hurt it, but I tell the doctor that it pains me a great deal. He does not know much and there is not hardly a boy in the regiment that likes him, but I manage to keep on the right side of him. I know it is for my interest to do so. I received those papers that you sent me and I have read them both through and gave them to Eli. That Liberator that you sent is the first one I have seen since I have been a soldier. I received a letter from Father a few nights ago. I sent him a letter just before I got his letter. I will write to him in a day or so. I have not had a letter from Aunt Hannah for over two weeks. I expect she has a great deal to do, and I don’t get much time to write so I will have to make some allowance. We have not got paid off yet but I don’t think it will be long before we will get paid. All the rest of the troops have been paid but us. We are not laying where we were a few days ago. We have moved around to the left more. We have got cavalry out in front of us. The reb pickets are about two miles from us. I don’t care about being any nearer to them than what we now are. I have been thinking over of late what Grant intends to do, or should I have said been trying to think what he will do, and for my fort. I can’t understand what he intends to do. The Ninth Corps had a fight the other day with the rebs and got possession of some of the rebels works. But what did it all amount to? We lost as many men as the rebs did and when night came we were just where we were when the fight commenced. The trouble is we haven’t got men enough. Instead of calling for 500,000 men, it ought to have been 1,000,000. I will write no more today. This from your son, Franklin A. Blanchard

Camp near Petersburg Virginia August the 10th 1864 Dear Father, I received a good long letter from you a few days ago. It was the one you promised to write me in a letter rec’d from you to Frank about a week ago. I was very anxious for it to get here for there is nothing that suits one better than to get a good long letter from home. If anything will warm a soldier’s heart and cheer his lonely hours I am sure it must be a letter from that and the letter I rec’d from home the other night I am sure done me some good for when I got it I was not feeling very well for I had quite a diarrhea and my plaguey tooth was aching like the old harrie. But I did not mind the tooth then and I let the diarrhea quit and I read my letter and when I had it finished I felt considerable better but the next morning my tooth commenced to ache as bad as ever, if not a little worse, and I made up my mind. I could not stand it any longer and so I started off to find a Dr. that had the instrument for pulling teeth. I had quite a time in finding the right one but I found him at last and got the tooth pulled, but I thought he would break my jaw before it would come. But, he finally succeeded in getting it out and you may be assured I felt relieved, and since then I have been all right. I got my diarrhea checked the same day and after a week of trial and trouble I have come out top of the heap and am

159 now as sound as ever and am enjoying the life of a soldier as any one can expect and a good deal better than many of them who are sick as laying wounded in the hosp’t and a man that is no harder up than I was has little cause to grumble. My duties are comparatively light to what a soldier’s are who carries a gun in the ranks for I have no guard duty to do, no picket duty to, and no fatigue duty to perform like they, and they have to be on one or the other nearly all the time. A good many times they have to work all night on some fort or something else and then maybe have to go on picket the next day. But they do not always have to work like this. In fact, they never had to at all until the campaign opened this spring, and when we get Richmond the boys will not have to work so hard as they have. And they all keep up good courage and spirits and hope and think it will not be long before that important stronghold will be in our possession, and with strong hands and willing hearts and glorious cause like ours will soldiers do with the right man to lead them, which I think we have got, there can be no doubt. But what we must soon conquer and crush the rebellion. Everything is now going on finally in our favor. Sherman in Georgia is coming on finely and much better than could be expected. When we come to look the thing over on both sides for Johnson, it seems to me, might have done a good deal more than he did for he certainly had as good a chance as Sherman did in the commencement. And when Sherman gets them trapped there and Grant Lee here, which I think will be done in time and that before long the war must soon come to a close, and with it slavery will cease to live and the blot – the great mis-alluring which is slavery – which has always set us back will be banished from the states and I hope from the entire earth never more to return, and the star-spangled banner, in triumph, shall wave o’er the land of all the free and not o’er the slave. My sheet is full and I will close. Goodbye and write soon, Eli A. Blanchard

Sunday, August the 22nd Near City Point, VA Dear Mother, I received a letter from you this morning. I am glad to learn you are all well. Eli and myself are well. Since I wrote to you last the 24th has been in another fight. There has been some killed and wounded and some taken prisoners. The fighting occurred near the Weldon and Petersburg railroad. Our men hold the road and I think it will be hard work for the rebels to get it away from us. The prisoners that we have captured say they will have it back when the 24th and the other troops belonging to the 5th Corps moved out to take position of the railroad. The sutlers all moved back to the rear. I came back with them. We are within two miles of City Point. You spoke about my getting a furlough. It would be impossible for me to get a furlough unless I got to the hospital and then I don’t know as I could get one. My toe is about the same; no better nor no worse. If I were to go to the hospital, my toe would soon be cured and then I would have to fight the same as ever. But as long as my toe is sore I can keep out of the fights. I

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suppose you have got the letter that I sent to you with the 40 dollars allotment. You can do what you want to with the money, only use it to some good purpose. We have had a great deal of rain of late. It rained nearly all day long yesterday. The roads are getting very bad but they will soon dry up when the rain comes out. There is nothing new to write. Things are about the same as they were a month ago. There is a continual firing of musketry along some portions of the line. Sometimes there is a good deal of artillery firing. It sometimes commences in the middle of the night, lasts for an hour or two, then everything is quiet. The next letter you write tell me something about the draft. I am thinking it will be hard work to get men this time without drafting. I will write no more this time. F. A. Blanchard

Camp near Weldon Railroad, VA August the 24th, 1864 Dear Parents, It has been some time since I have written you a letter and it has also been some time since I rec’d one from you. I rec’d one from about a week ago and should have answered it within a day or two but things has gone from that time till now. I have scarcely had time to attend the necessaries of life. I might have found time for it in any ordinary time, but my necessaries of life were so numerous for I have had a bad diarrhea for the last week and it has kept me bobbing pretty well the most of the time. But I am over that now and am all right now and feels as if I should keep so for a while to come. But that did not bother me enough to stop me from writing a few lines anyway. But there was other things that kept me from it. The main thing was it has rained nearly all of the time, both night and day, so that we frequently had to cook and eat in the rain. And when it was not raining we were marching the most of the time. Although we have done considerable marching, we have not marched afar at a time, and are now but about six miles from Petersburg on the Weldon Railroad. I tell you what, we have been doing a pretty big thing since I wrote you last, and we are doing more every day. The name of the place near here where we are camped is the six mile station. There is a report circulation through camp this morning that the 2nd Corps have swung still farther around on the left and have captured and cut the other and last road that leads into Petersburg. And if that is so, the Johnnies will not be able to hold out in there much longer. Friday morning I did not have time to finish my letter yesterday, for we had to move and I will try and finish my letter this morning if we don’t have to move before I can get it done. When we moved out here yesterday, which is about 3/4ths of a mile from here, we did not stay here more than two hours before we had to move again. We anticipated an attack in our front and we were ordered immediately to the front, but the Johnnies did not come. But they

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made an attack still farther up on the left, which was in the 2nd Corps, and they had a pretty hard fight of it. We have not learned the particulars of it yet, but I am inclined to think the Johnnies got a sound whipping, for the firing ceased on that part of the line about dark and we have heard no more from that quarter since. About nine o’clock in the evening we came back to camp again and have stayed here all night. There was a heavy cannonading commenced down on the right about midnight last night, and has been kept up all the time since then until within a few minutes. We have heard nothing of the results yet but I guess it did not amount to much. Everything is quiet at present. Frank is with the sutler yet. He has not been with the reg’t in over a week. He is having first rate good times at the sutler’s and has pretty good living and does not have to march any. He was well when I heard from him last, which was a few days ago. I am all right. This morning, my diarrhea is stopped entirely and I am perfectly sound now. Don’t think anything has happened to me if you don’t hear from me as often as you expect to, for it is hard for anyone to write when they are bobbing around so much. Goodybe, E. A. B. I received a letter from you and Mother dated the 18th last night. It was the first I had rec’d in over a week. You will find enclosed in this letter a check of $44. You will see by that we have been paid.

Camp near Weldon R.R., VA Sunday, Sept. the 25, A.D. 1864 Dear Father, It has been a long time since I have received a letter from you. I have been expecting one from you for more than a week, but it has not got along yet. You said in a letter that Frank received from you a few days ago that you would write me in a few days, but as I have not got it yet I must wait a day or two. And now, on the other hand, it has been quite a while since I have written to you or written home either. And on that score, I guess we are about equal on the whole. I think I write home as full as often as you write to me. But let that be as it may. I have waited until I have got tired and I am going to write you a letter anyway if I don’t get one in over a week. The letter that you wrote Frank last week is just the kind of a letter that suits. It was a good long one and one that would make a soldier’s heart bound with joy to read it. There was nothing in it discouraging and there was nothing there but that was soul-stirring and patriotic, and that is the kind of letters a soldier wants to get if he does not want to get homesick. It showed me too that there was still a patriotic feeling existing in the north and that all of the men left there were not disloyal, but that there were still a good many of them left. I am very glad to hear that, for there must also be a good many copperheads there yet. But if there is only as many of you as there is of them, it will come out all right; for the soldiers will settle the matter in a short order.

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The Johnnies are getting mighty scared, I tell you. They begin to think they can’t whip Grant so easy as they thought they could at first. They call him Lee’s “hard nut” and he surely has been all of that to them, for he has not got him cracked yet. And what is worse for them, that nut is growing harder and harder every day and I guess they begin to think that Sherman and Sheridan are some by the way they have been operating for a short time past. Everything for us seems to work like a charm and every blow that is struck at this rebellion goes with a telling effect. The rebels now have their last man in the field. And they even have women and children that are doing garrison duty so their soldiers from such places may go where they are needed more. The amount of men they loose now by small skirmishing and desertion amount to over one reg’t per day, while our army is increased by at least one reg’t per day. So you can see the difference of the two armies at the present time. And the eminent success that we have been having besides must be making their army very small. I tell you what, as I have been telling you in other letters I have written you, this cruel war is very near played out. If it lasts from now, the election comes off I think they will do well, but it may last longer. But let us hope not, for I am sure it does not look reasonable for it to last much longer. But I guess I have not written enough about that. Frank is up here today and we are having a fine old time. He says tell our folks his toe is most well. I, too, am well and feel tiptop. The paymaster is here and we shall get pay tomorrow. We signed the payrolls this morning and the next letter you receive from me you will probably get my check. I must now close and bid you goodbye. Hoping to hear from you soon, I remain as ever your affectionate son, E. A. Blanchard

[Printed on the letter paper: The U.S. Christian Commission sends this as the soldier’s messenger to his home. Let it hasten to those who wait for tidings. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”]

September the 28th, 1864 In Division Hospital near Weldon Railroad, VA Dear Father, I will write you a few lines this afternoon to let you know that Eli and myself are both well. I was up to the regiment yesterday to get my pay but I did not get it. The regiment had all been paid when I got there. I will now have to wait until next payday. It makes no difference. When I get my pay, I just as lives wait until another payday. I found several letters for me at the regiment. Two of them were from home. I am glad that you all keep well. I suppose Asa L. is now going to school. I think you will miss him very much. Eli wrote a letter to him yesterday. I have not had a letter from Aunt Hannah for some time. I

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like to have letters from her. The only fault I find is she does not write often enough. You wanted me to write something about my coming home. Well, you can look for me home sometime next August, and that will be about ten months and a half. If the war should end before that time, I may be home before next August. When I get a furlough, I want one for good. I would like to know what satisfaction it is going to be for a man to get a furlough for 15 days. It will take half of the time to go and come and I have heard boys say that has been home that it is harder to come away the second time than it was the first. It would be impossible to get a furlough at this time of the year, unless you are away in some hospital and in a northern state. I suppose next winter there will be some furloughs given. If they give any for more than 15 days, I will try and get one. I would like to have you come down and see us this winter, but I don’t see how you can leave home. If Asa L. was going to be at home you could come easy enough, but I think it would take more money than you think for we are having fine weather down here in Dixey. I think there will be something done soon about Petersburg. I understand Butler has got his canal finished. Last Saturday and Sunday, we could hear heavy firing in the direction of Fort Darling. The latest accounts we have from Sheridan he had driven the enemy over one hundred miles and was still after them. I have no more to write today. This from your son, F. A. Blanchard P.S. In your next letter you may send me a fine comb. Hurrah for Lincoln and Johnson!

City Point, October 9th, ‘64 Dear Father, I must write you a few lines this morning to let you know that I am well and in good spirits and I mean to keep in good spirits, though everybody else should be in bad spirits. But I am happy to say everybody seems to be in good spirits just at this time. Everyone seems to think that the rebellion is on its last legs and those legs are very weak. I have had my toenail part of it taken out. I did not feel it when the doctor operated on it. I took some stuff that put me to sleep and I knew nothing of it until it was all over. My toe has got along finely since, and has nearly healed up since the operation was performed. It will never bother me anymore. I heard from Eli last Wednesday. He is all right. I haven’t heard from home in some time. I think there must be letters for me at the regiment. I hope you have not been looking for me home on a furlough. If you have, you will have to look in vain. It is impossible for me to get a furlough now and I am sure I never gave you much encouragement and I don’t think I shall until I know for certain that I will get home. I shall get home, there is no two ways about that. But whether I shall get home before the war is over or before my time is out is more than I can tell. I am down at the Point nearly every day. There is a great deal of business going on down there. The troops are coming into heat. All 13 boatloads came in yesterday. There is a hundred thousand troops waiting for transportation to come to City Point. There is a reb gunboat

164 laying down at the wharf. It was captured last Friday. I was talking with a man yesterday that saw some of the reb officers that was captured with the gunboat. He said they were dressed right up to the handle. It is said when they surrendered they run up the stars and stripes. I believe I will go down and take a look at them when I put this letter in the office. I have just been to dinner. We had onion soup and bread. I will write no more today. May this find you all well and enjoying life. This from your son, F. A. B. P.S. Send me a few stamps.

Camp near Weldon R.R., VA Sunday Oct. the 16th, 1864 Dear Mother, As I have nothing in particular to do this morning and Wood has gone off somewhere on a walk, I don’t believe I could do better than write you a few lines and let you know how I am getting on. Well, in the first place I am as well as usual and am getting on finely. The boys in the reg’t, I believe, are nearly all of them in good health and as a general thing, I believe the soldiers are rather more healthy than usual. Frank is at City Point yet and is all right with the exceptions of his toe. And that, I believe, is about the same as usual, no better and no worse. He says he does not think he will be able to obtain a furlough so as to come home and vote for he says they are not giving any where he is. I for my part don’t see why they do not. I think they ought to give every man a furlough when they can and I should not wonder if they commenced giving them before long. If they [do], I presume he will get one. I am sure he deserves one if anybody does. We are having some very pleasant weather down here at present, although it is a little cold at the same time. It seems just like Indian Summer used to at home, except the plaguey cold nights. We have our bed built up from the ground and we sometimes sleep pretty cold, colder than we would if it were built on the ground. But we drew some clothing the other day and since that we have slept very comfortable. Web Wood and I tent together yet. We have been tent mates nearly all of the time since we have been out. He is a very good boy but is rather big feeling I think. But for all that we get along first rate together and have some pretty jolly old times once in a while. He never drinks any whiskey and does not swear any and I am happy too. I am one of the same kind, which is more than I could say when I left home for although I never drank any whiskey, I used to swear some, but have broke myself of it. Find I can get along just as well without swearing as I could with, and I think a little better. It seems so to me anyway. There is nothing new of any importance that I know of. The usual amount of skirmishing and artillery duels are kept up yet. There was some heavy cannonading on the extreme right last night, but I guess it did not amount to much for such things take place every little while and we scarcely hear anything of them more than they are artillery

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duels. There is a report going the round that the Johnnies are evacuating Petersburg, but we can learn nothing reliable of it. Deserters are coming into our lines all the time but no dependence can be put in what they say. There were two came in in front of our reg’t this but there could nothing begot out of them. Col. Morrow has got permanently detailed at Camp Chase, Ohio as chief of the Court of Inquiry as you have probably heard before this time. There is a report that he is going to get the reg’t detailed there to do provost duty, but we put no confidence in it. The deserters that came into our lines say if Lincoln is reelected, the rebellion will have to go down. They say little Mack is their only hope. We tell them they need not wait for him to be elected for he never will be and that he is just like them. He has seen his best day and is growing more and more unpopular every day, and before many days pass by they will be altogether played out and will be both buried in the same grave. Goodbye and write soon. E.A. Blanchard

October the 20th, 1864 In camp near Weldon Railroad, VA Dear Mother, I received a letter from you yesterday. I was glad to hear that you were all in good health but I was sorry to learn that Marthy Becker is sick. I am glad your hired girl has got back. You must have had a hard time of it. Well, I am back to the regiment once more but I can’t do duty. Only, while it is dry weather I have to wear an old shoe. When it comes wet weather, I can lay still. Eli and myself are well. I never felt better. Eli got a letter from Asa L. the other day. He seems to like going to school and I believe he will make a good scholar. He is first rate now for one of his age, but it will be some years before he can teach school. I got that fine comb that you sent me. I also got them stamps the day before I came back to the regiment. I went to the Sanitary Commission and they gave me a large comfort bag filled with a little of most everything. I got paper, envelopes, stamps, pen, pencil; housewife filled with buttons, thread, pins, needles, yarn. I also got a pair of slippers besides some oatmeal and farina and various other things too numerous to mention. There was also a letter in the bag stating who sent it and she wanted the soldier that got the bag to write to her. She gave me the directions where to write and I have written to her. I expect a letter soon from her. I don’t know as it is much use to write, for my pen is so poor that I am thinking you will have hard work to read this letter. The next time you write, let me know if you ever got them papers that I sent home a short time ago. No more at present, F. A. Blanchard

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Camp near Weldon R.R., Virginia Tuesday, Nov. the 1st, 1864 Dear Mother, You must excuse me, as I know you will, for not writing sooner when I come to tell you the reason that I have not, for I should have written before if I could have got the chance. We have been moving some since I wrote you last and we moved on the same day I calculated to write you, and then I could not write until I got back, and when we got back we were ordered into regular camp to put up good comfortable quarters, and so since we have been back, you see, I have had no time [to] write but have been hard at work building a shanty, and we have but just got it finished and moved into. So you can see I have been pretty busy all the time. Web Wood and I tent together yet. Our tent looks pretty rough on the outside but it is pretty comfortable inside and that is all we want. We have not put up so nice shanties as some of the boys are doing for we do not expect to stay here a great while; although, we may be here all winter. But I believe we will stay here until after election before we move. And after that, just as much longer as it takes Grant to form another plan. And then we may move out and come back again the way we have been doing for the last two months. I suppose that all of the copperheads at home think this last move of Grant’s a failure. At least that is what I hear. If I were at home, I would show them that it is not, for it was certainly a successful one. The move was merely a reconnaissance in force. He did not go to take the railroad at all, but merely to find out what he could and get the lay of the ground so that when he did want to take the road he would know how to go at it, and that is what he says in his official report to the war department. And I don’t think it looked much like a defeat when we moved up there and back with a loss of a little over two hundred in killed, wounded, missing, and taken prisoners and we captured over nine hundred prisoners from them – saying nothing about the killed and wounded; although, there could have been but very few of either, for there was general engagement brought on and therefore there could have been but very few killed and wounded. And I think that anyone thinks that says Grant was defeated up on the south road is either a fool or not far from it, for anyone that knows anything about Grant at all ought to know – if he is a man of sense – that when he plans to have a fight he has one, and he does not get defeated without bringing on engagement and go back to camp without having any fight at all. But when he plans for a reconnaissance he has something like that was the other day: he goes out and finds out what he wants to and comes back satisfied with the result and capturing over three times the number of men he loses. And then the low-life, sneaking copperheads and fools that allow themselves to be stuffed by what others say will go about blowing and talking and say Grant got defeated. I hope there is not many such folks as that in our neighborhood. If there, I want you to give them a coming down and open their eyes and show them that our country is not in half so much as they make it out to be, and that if such men as them had only kept still, this war would have been settled long before this and there would never have been any signs of a draft. That always sets them trembling in their shoes when they think of it, for they are such cowards; they would rather kiss a slaveholders foot than go to war, and they would vote for anyone that goes for peace on any terms.

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Tuesday evening I did not quite finish my letter this afternoon and have some spare time this evening. I will finish it now. I have a fire built in the fireplace this evening and it is warm and comfortable in here as it would be at home – and I think that is saying considerable. Web has gone off somewhere writing and I am all alone and no one to bother me. Our shanty is a little back and to the right of Col. Edwards who is now in command of the reg’t. The reg’t is camped about ten rods in front of us. They have all been very busy today putting up their shanties and they now have them nearly finished. They are putting up some pretty nice ones but I am afraid they will not be allowed to stay here and enjoy them very long, for as I said before, I don’t believe we will stay here a great while and if we should go away and come back again the shanties would be just as apt to be tore down as to be a-standing up. And for that reason Web and I have not taken a great deal of pains with ours. I have been down in the company where Frank is this afternoon and the men he is tenting with have got their tent very near done – and they got a pretty nice one, too. Frank says tell our folks he will write I a few days. He says he should have written sooner but he has been so busy putting up the shanty he has not had time to write. He is well and healthy as ever. It seems as if he keeps looking better all the time. His toe is pretty much well and does not bother him scarcely any. He stood the march we had the other day first rate. In fact, everybody seemed to stand that march all right, for we did not have far to march and there was no fighting at all to speak of. Our reg’t never fired a gun, although they got in pretty close quarters two or three times. The boys have been in the army long enough now to learn not to fire a gun until they find something to shoot at and then when they do fire, their shots take effect. The other night there was quite a run on the picket line on our right and some of them got captured but they did not belong to our corps. We did not know one spell but what the Johnnies were going [to] assault our work and they had the men under arms and in the works in less time than a minute. But it did not amount to anything more than I have stated. There was a little cannonading on both sides and then it gradually died away. But the firing did not stop entirely and has not stopped yet. Even as I am penning this I can hear them driving away at each other. And when the skirmishing begins to get pretty sharp, then pop goes a cannon and then all is quiet for a few minutes. But soon the musketry firing is resumed again and so it goes until another big gun goes off again which drives them all into their holes again. Web got a box of things from home the other day. I tell you what, he got a lot of nice things. I believe it was the nicest express box I ever see come to the army. He had twelve oyster cans full of stuff. Some had honey in, some had butter, some pickles, some preserves besides a ham, a halibut, some cake, and some other stuff. I think you had better send Frank and I one before long. And when you send it, I would like to have you send me a pair of gloves and a pair of boots. The gloves I would rather would not be quite so thick and heavy as those were last year, as they would bother me to play in them. And the boots I would rather would not be quite large as they were last year and I don’t need very thick boots for I have no picket duty or guard duty to do and shall not be running about outdoors much. But before you send it, I shall want to write again before you send it and Frank will want something, too. And you can send both in the same box. He will

168 probably write tomorrow what he wants. I will see him before he writes and have it all arranged and we will both send together. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

November the 22nd Near Weldon Railroad, VA Dear Father, I received a letter from you this morning dated the 4th and one from Asa L. on the same date. I was glad to hear that you were all well. Eli and myself are both well and in good spirits. We have just had one of the hardest rains that I ever witnessed. The ground is full of water. I never saw such a muddy time. Our moving is played out for this fall. We will be apt to stay right here for the next five months. I think we will make more by laying still than we would by moving around. The rebels are deserting like sixty. There was 20 came in one squad yesterday. The day before that, there was a colonel came in. I think by next spring, we will get a good share of the reb army. You wanted me to write and let you know what I wanted. I don’t think I shall want a pair of boots this winter. The only things I shall want is a shirt, one pair of socks, and a pair of suspenders. There is some talk of our going home this winter but I don’t pay much attention to what they say. I don’t think we will get our pay until next January. I will have six months due me. I will write no more today. I will write to Mother in a day or two.

Franklin A. Blanchard

Camp near Weldon R.R., Virginia Dec. the 4th, 1864 Dear Mother, Yours of the 26th ult. was rec’d by me last night. I was glad to hear from you once more. I have not had a letter from home before in nearly two weeks and I had almost began to get home sick because I did not get any mail. But last night I rec’d two letters, one from you and one from Marve, and this morning I feel all right, which is more than I should have done had I not heard from you as I did. I was sorry to hear you were not very well. I think you must [have] worked to hard cleaning house. I hope you will not keep on working more than you are able for it will keep you under the weather all the time. I am well and all right and I guess Franklin is well too. He went on picket yesterday morning and will not be back until tomorrow morning. Our box has not got along yet. We

169 are expecting it today. I am sorry my letter did not get there soon enough but maybe Frank can wear them. And if he can, it will be all right. We are having some very pleasant weather down here now. We have not had any rain to speak of for two weeks and it has been warm and pleasant all of the time. We have got our camp fixed in fine style and we have just the nicest place to play ball out. And we are having as nice times now as we ever had in the army. Our camp is laid out in regular order and the streets and walks camp ground about is as smooth as a floor. And when we do not have to practice or play for the reg’t, we play at ball or do anything else we like. And besides that, we have two good violins in the reg’t and there is lots of good players so we have music in plenty and we have a little dancing with the rest of the amusements and everything goes off what we call lovely. Now and then, we hear some rumor about a march or get some order about being prepared to move and then we don’t feel so gay. But we have stayed here so long now that I hardly think we will move until spring unless the Johnnies should make some demonstrations on their side to do something. Then I think in all probability we should have to go out and quiet them down. I don’t think Grant will attack the rebs here unless he is obliged to. But he will stay here and watch their movements and keep him here while Sherman goes along down the coast and captures the strongholds along there and stop this blockade running that has been ever since the war begun. We rec’d news here the other day of another victory over Hood. I forgot the general’s name in command of our forces. Whoever he was he done well and is worthy of great praise. With these few lines I will close hoping to hear from you next time sooner than before. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

December the 13th, 1864 near Petersburg VA Dear Mother, I will write you a few lines to let you know that Eli and myself are both well. We have got the box you sent us. Everything came through safe except my gloves. There was only one pair of gloves came in the box. When we got the box, we were all ready to move so we put it in the wagon and he has kept it all right. We have been on a long march. Our object was to destroy the Weldon Railroad. We tore up 15 miles of the track, burnt all the ties and burnt all the rails. We burnt all we came to. Hardly a house left standing. We got back last night and camped in a field. We are here, yet I don’t know what they will do with us. I don’t think we will go back into our old quarters. I never saw such a smoky time. The boys have to burn pinewood. We are all smoked up. Some of the boys can hardly see. My eyes are sore and I can hardly see to write. I will write no more today. F. A. Blanchard If you send another box, you need not send me any boots.

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Headqrts. 24th Mich. Vols. Inft. December 25, AD 1864 Dear Parents, We have at last got things arranged so I can find a few moments to write you and let you know how we are getting along. I should have written before but I have been so busy putting up my shanty that I have not had time to do anything but work all of the time. But now we have got it up and nearly finished. We have got all done but making our doors, table, and some stools which we will do tomorrow. Web is at work at the door now while I am writing. We should have had it done before but the col. could not tell us where he wanted us to put the shanties up until we had been here nearly a week. And another reason is our shanty is as large as the most of the boys build where there is four in a tent and we could not do as much work in the same amount of time as four men could, so that brings us a little behind some of them; although, there are a good many tents in the reg’t that is not so far advanced as ours. The reason of that is because they have not worked so hard as we have. Our shanty is seven by ten on the inside. I think it is the best one we ever built. We have got the best camp for winter qrts. we ever had before. There is plenty of water and lots of timber of the best quality. It is mostly pine and very large. Some of the trees are two feet in thickness and sixty feet in height before we get to the limbs. It is the nicest timber I ever saw in my life. There is some oak, maple, and whitewood amongst it but they are not very plenty. We are about three miles southeast of where we were before we marched. We have been having pretty nasty weather to work in for the last two or three days. It has been raining and drizzling nearly all of the time and is at it yet. But it looks as if [it] would stop before long. I hope it will, for it would make a great deal nicer working. Frank is well and all right and so am I with the exception of a slight cold which does not amount to much. I think Frank will try and get a furlough and go home by and by. I don’t think he could get one now if he should try but I think there will be a chance for before we leave winter quarters. I shall not try for one, for there is no danger but what I shall come back all right when my time is out; although, I would like to go and see you very much. Frank got a letter from you this morning. We was glad to hear you were all well. You said you would write to me in a few days. Hope you will, for I have not had a letter in a long time. I would wish you a happy New Year but that will be over long before this reaches you and you will have a good time anyway. I should like to be there to enjoy it with you. No more at present. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

My boots were pretty large but I thought I might better wear them than the government shoes, so I have concluded to keep them.

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Headquart’s., 24th Mich. Vols. Jan. 2nd, A.D. 1865 Dear Parents, I have not rec’d a letter from you in some time; although, I am expecting one every mail and it may come tonight. I hope it may but as I said before, it has been some time since I have heard from you and I thought I might just as well write you as to wait until I hear from you, for I may have to wait some time yet. And if I go so long without writing, you are apt to think something is the matter of us. So I will write you a few lines this evening and let you know how we are getting along. Well, in the first place, Frank and myself are well and all right and have enjoyed ourselves during the hallow days first rate. Frank went on picket this morning. He will be gone two days unless the weather is very cold, in which case they only have to stay out twenty-four hours. In every letter we get from you, you want to know about his getting a furlough to come home. I don’t know whether he will come or not but I think he may after a time. But he can’t come just now, for they have stopped furloughs for a short time and he will have to wait until they commence granting them again. I hope he will go home, for I think that a soldier who has been exposed to the danger as much as he has and been so good a soldier as he has should have a chance to go home if he wants to. And if he gets a good chance, by and by I guess he will come. The mail has just arrived but there is nothing for me. The boys are now all rigged up some in their shanties and are taking things at their ease. They have got their dirty clothes all washed up and have drawn new clothing and they look the most like civilized people they have before in some time. There is scarcely anyone sick and everybody is in the best of spirits. They cannot very well be any other way for they are having such fine times and New Year’s and Christmas both at hand and more than all that the great victories have met our arms at land and sea and the fact being known among them that our arms are successful in every undertaking and such a bright prospect of the war closing in a short time and everything works so lovely and fair for our side that it cannot be wondered at that the heart of the soldier is rejoiced. There is a prospect of our staying here all winter and I would like to improve my education a little before coming home. I would like to have you send me a practical arithmetic and a grammar by mail, if you will. It will not be but a few cents postage on them if you do it up so they can see that it is a book. I hope you will send it as soon as you can for I am anxious to get to studying them. Nothing more at present. Goodbye and write soon, E. A. Blanchard P.S. Excuse me for writing so poor for it is late and my pen is poor.

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Headqrts., 24th Mich. Jan. 9th, AD 1865 Dear Mother, Your letter of the 4th inst. was rec’d by me this evening and you can hardly think the joy it made me feel to hear from you once more, for it has been a long, long time I have had a letter from home. And I was afraid you were sick or something else had happened, you had waited so long. But tonight your more than welcome letter reached me, and the heart of your soldier boy is rejoiced for I know that you are well and things are all right. And to show you the gratitude I feel toward you for hearing from you again, I will answer your letter tonight although I wrote you one yesterday. I see by the heading of your letter you was in Ypsilanti when you wrote me. You did not say how the folks were getting on out there. When you write again, please tell me about it and if Eliza Wallack and Alice go there to school yet or not. Not that it any way concerns me, but a friend of mine wished me to enquire and I promised to do so. I am as well as usual and I believe Frank is. I went down and saw him this afternoon and we had a good old time. He does not say so much about getting a furlough as I would like to have him, for I am very anxious to have him go home. But I think he will manage to get one before we leave winter quarters and he thinks one time is as good as another, so he only gets the furlough. I expect that before this time you have rec’d my letter stating something about some schoolbooks I wanted you to send me. I hope you have, for I am anxious to be learning something that will be of use to me in the future. If you have sent them – as I expect you have – they will be here in a few days. We are some expecting to be paid in a few days but we can’t tell anything about whether we will or not. I hope we will, for money is like hens’ teeth – pretty scarce. There is no news of importance in today’s paper. Everything seems to be taking a little rest before the final blow is struck. We had an account a few days ago of Admiral Porter’s attack on Fort Fisher, and was sorry to learn that he met with such poor success. But that is nothing that amounts to anything in the long run, for we will have it before long anyway and it will be just as good then. Nothing more at present. Goodbye for this time, E. A. Blanchard

Headqrts. 24th Mich. Vols. Near Jerusalem Road, VA Jan. 10th, AD 186[5] Dear Parents, I now set myself down to write you a few lines and let you know that Frank and myself are both well and all right. Our corps moved last Sunday and have had some pretty rough times. They left the musicians and some men to guard the quarters in the old camp and so you see I did not have to go, but Frank went but come out of it all right.

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There were four or five men killed in the reg’t, a considerable many wounded, but Frank come through all straight. The troops have not come back yet. We expect them back tonight or tomorrow but it is not expected they will stay back long, for we understand our corps is ordered to take up a position near Hatch’s Run about ten miles from here, and if that is the case we will have to build new quarters again. I don’t know whether we gained any time out there or not, but I think we accomplished all we went there for. I believe they have lengthened the lines so as to make room for Thomas’s army. I understand our corps is to be kept in reserve as we were here. I don’t much care if we do have to build new quarters if it is only good weather and we get where there is plenty of good timber for the shanties because time seems to pass off faster when working at some such thing, and I am anxious to have time fly as fast as possible. I should have written to you sooner than this but I could not hear until today whether Frank was all right or not and I did not want to write till I knew and could not find out until today. I should like to write more but I have not got time before the mail goes out. I will write again in a few days. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

Headqrts. 24th Mich. Vos. Near Jerusalem Plank Road, VA Sunday, Jan. 22nd, 1865 Dear Mother, Your kind and welcome letter of the 10th was rec’d by me last night and I was happy to hear from you again and learn you were all well. Frank and I are well too and enjoying the comforts of life in the best possible manner considering the circumstance. The books that you said you would send by the same mail you did the letter did not come with it but they will probably be here tonight. I hope they will, for I am very anxious to get to studying; although, I am afraid it will not last long after the books get here although I mean to improve my time and get along the best I can. The weather for the few days past has been very good part of the time and the other part of the time it has not been very good. Night before last, it commenced storming in the middle of the night and it stormed till last night without stopping at all and today it has been storming again but has stopped now and is growing colder and acts as though it was going to freeze up and be colder. If it does, it will make the roads better so that teams can get around some. I never saw the roads any worse than they are now. It almost makes me homesick to have such roads as we do here sometimes and then get a letter from home telling what good sleighing it is there. And once in a while I am half a mind to put in for a furlough when Frank does and come home with him. I was down to see him this afternoon and he thought it would be some time before he would be able to get one. I am afraid when he gets home the sleighing will be all gone and the roads will

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not be as nice as they are now. It is reported about camp that the paymaster is on the way down here to pay us off and that we will be paid in about a week. I hope it may be so, for money is very scarce. If he does come we will get four months pay which will be considerable. Frank will get six months pay. Well, this is Sunday afternoon. I don’t know whether we will have church or not. We had church last Sunday and the chaplain preached a very good sermon. I sometimes think he is as good a chaplain to preach as there is in the army. But he is a pretty hard man to deal with in business and whoever has business with him must back out. I don’t mean by this that he is a very bad man, for I think he is as good as the common son of men. You can do as you see fit about sending the box if you have not sent it already. Nothing more at present. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

Don’t forget the stamps of you have not sent some, for I had to borrow one for this envelope.

Thursday, Jan. the 26th, 1865 Dear brothers Ernest and Bonny, I will now write a few lines to you. I think I promised to write you a letter the next time I write home. It is raining this morning and it looks wet and dreary outdoors. Yesterday was a fine day and we had great times snowballing. I think that I got plugged about 20 times but I hit them as many times in return. Eli got hit 3 times. Eli would hit somebody about every time he threw. But the snow is most all gone now and we cannot snowball anymore for the present. You say the colts and horses are all right. I am glad to hear it. I want you to take good care of the old dog so when I get home he will be in good trim for catching coons. I shall want you both to go with me when I go out cooning. You say you have caught one coon. I think if I had been at home this winter we would have caught more. I wonder if the old dog will know me when I get home. Well, I must draw my letter to a close and go and get some water for dinner. I guess we will have some fried bacon, hardtack, and some stewed cherries and currants for dinner. I will send you a piece of hardtack so you will know what they are. Well, the rain pours down like sixty, but I must go and get some water. Goodbye, Franklin A. Blanchard

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Headqrts., 24th Mich. Vols. Inft. Near Jerusalem Plank Rd., VA Sunday, Jan. 29th, 1865 Dear Father, I have just rec’d your letter of the 19th inst. and was very much pleased to learn you were all well and having such fine times; and in turn I can say the same of ourselves, for we are both well and enjoying life first rate according to the circumstances. Frank and myself are both as well and healthy as we ever were and Frank is a good deal healthier here than he used to be at home, while I am about the same. I believe the army, as a general thing, is very healthy this winter. So far there has been but very few cases of sickness in our reg’t, and but one of death. His name was Clark Eddie. He belonged to Co. C. He was a very fine young man and well liked by all who knew him and is much missed by his comrades. His body was taken home by one of the boys of his company. His disease was the typhoid fever. That is the disease that most of the men are sick with in the army that are sick at all. We have been having some very cold weather for a few days past. I think it was the coldest I ever saw in Virginia. It has moderated down some today and is more comfortable than it has been for some time, but it is pretty cold yet. I am in hopes it will come off warmer in a short time, for it is hard on the men who have to do guard and picket duty. Frank has been pretty lucky for the last week and has not had much duty to do and consequently has not been out in the cold much. Furloughs are now being granted pretty freely to the army and it can’t be a great while before Frank’s turn will come. I think he may get his with the next squad of men that goes from our reg’t. I am sure he deserves one if anybody does, for there is not a soldier in the entire army who does his duty better than he. Ask anyone you see of the 24th what kind of a soldier Frank Blanchard is without telling them who you are and I will warrant you to get an answer that you may be proud of. He was up to see me a little while ago and read your letter. He says he will write in a day or two. I received my schoolbooks day before yesterday and was very glad to get them indeed. I have scarcely done anything else but study and keep a good fire burning since I got them. They help to pass away the [time] first rate and at the same time improves my mind. I find I have forgotten a good deal since I left home, but it comes to me a great deal easier than it would if I never had studied any of them before. I can see the value of an education now better than I could when I left home, and when I get out of the army, I will know enough to improve my time as I should. 6 o’clock pm I did not have time to finish my letter this afternoon. I had to stop to play for dress parade and get supper. So I will finish it this evening. The weather has moderated so much this afternoon that it is quite comfortable tonight and is not very hard work to keep warm, and it looks as if we should have a snowstorm before long. Web has gone away somewhere a-visiting this evening and I am all alone, but I shall probably not be so a great while, for we usually have lots of company. There is not an hour passes through the day but what someone is in to see us and there is usually

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someone in here near all the time. I suppose you think at home that that is having a good deal of company. I think so myself, but it is the style in the army and you know we must put on style with the rest. If we did not, it would not be military and consequently it would not be right. I think it goes to show something in our favor; for if we have so many visitors, we must have some friends. And that speaks well of anybody. You spoke in your letter about what a lot of company you were going to have the next day. You said you knew very well what we would say when we read it and that would be how I wish we were there, which of course was just what we said. We would have both liked to have been there at the time very much but we could not make it convenient to come just then. I think I cannot make it convenient to come and see you until about six months and a half, and then I will come and make you a good long visit. But Frank will probably come home in the course of two or three weeks. There are quite a good many that are absent now on furloughs and as soon as they come back, he will have a chance. We have no news at all now in the army. All that we get is what we hear from letters and what we see in our own cases, for they have stopped papers coming in the army for thirty days. The last news we got here was that Fort Fisher was captured and that Blair had gone to Richmond again. We expect that Sherman is doing some big thing or peace is about to be declared and that something wonderful is going to take place, but we do not see why they wish to be kept away from the army. Nearly everyone in the army believes peace will be declared within six months. I think it will be as soon as that if not sooner. I should not be at all surprised to hear it tomorrow. This much I am sure of: if they do not do something in a short time, they will go up in a few days. Nothing more at present. I will write again soon and hoping you will do the same. I bid you goodbye. Your son, E. A. Blanchard I have not had a letter from Asa L. in over two weeks. It has been some time since I have had a letter from Marve. Try and have Bonnie and Earny write to us. Web has got back and there is some boys in here talking with him.

Baltimore, February 16, 1865 Dear Mother, I write a line or two and let you know where I am and what we are all doing. The 24th has been ordered to report to Springfield, Ill. We are now on our way to that place. We left City Point last Sunday morning. I believe we leave Baltimore at two o’clock p.m. The boys are all feeling gay to think we are going north. I don’t think we will ever be back to the front again. I am going to have a furlough when we get settled down in Springfield. I will write as soon as we get there. Eli and myself are both well. I hope this will find you all the same. No more at present. This from your son, F. A. Blanchard

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February the 22nd, 1865 Camp Butler near Springfield, Ill. Dear Mother, as we have got at our journey’s end I will write you a few lines to let you know how we are situated. We are in Camp Butler, six miles from Springfield. We arrived here yesterday morning. There is several new regiments here nearly ready to take the field. Everything is upside down but I am in paper. We will get straightened around all right in a few days. I never saw such a muddy place for a camp in all my life. Today we are cleaning up our guns. Some of our regiment are on duty today. I have to go on guard tomorrow. I don’t think we will ever see old Virginia again. The Colonel says we are to stay here. As Eli is writing and I have to clean up, I will not write any more today but in a day or so I will write a good long letter. No more at present. Address your letters to Camp Butler near Springfield, Ill.

Camp Butler Near Springfield Ill. Feb. 22, 1865

Dear Parents, You have no doubt heard before this time of our taking the Army of the Potomac and that we are now near Springfield Ill. doing guard duty. I think it is a fine thing for us. I do not believe we will ever have to go into the field to fight again but will stay here or in some such place until our time is out. You had better believe the boys felt good when they found out where we were going, but we had a long, tiresome journey of it before we got here. We left City Point a week ago last Sunday and got here yesterday, so you can see we must have traveled very slow and then we had to be up day and night all the time and had no chance for rest at all. We got paid off in Baltimore. We got four months pay. It was a bad time to get paid, for traveling as we was there, we would be a good deal of danger of losing our money. I was likely enough not to lose any of my money but some of the boys lost all they had. Web Wood, my tent mate, lost $25. He would have lost it all but he happened to think he might lose some of it so he saved part of it in his pocket and the rest he kept in his pocketbook, and while he was in the cars it slipped out of his pocket and we got off the train in the night. He never thought anything of it till it was too late. A good many others lost their money in the same way. When we got paid off this time, the paymaster did not give any allotment but paid me in greenbacks. I shall not send home as much money this time as I usually do, for I owed considerable here and there and thought would be better to pay it than to wait any longer, for I always like to have my debts squared up and then it is off my mind. I shall not send you but $20 this time. Next payday I will try and do better. Frank wrote you yesterday and probably

178 told you all there was to tell of any consequence. I will write again in a few days. I have not heard from you since the day we left City Point. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

Camp Butler Near Springfield, Ill. Feb. 26th, AD 1865 Dear Parents, As I have nothing in particular to do this afternoon, I think I will write you a few lines and let you know how we are getting along. We have just got settled down and got things arranged comfortable. We have moved from the barracks we occupied when I wrote you before. They are the best barracks in the whole camp. I stay with the company now and am in the same room that Frank is. We are both well with the exceptions of colds and nearly every man in the reg’t is troubled with the same thing. The way we all got them was when we were coming up here and changed from the passenger cars where there was good fires in them to freight cars where there was no fire at all. But the most of us are getting better and but very few of the men are down sick. I don’t think Frank has so hard a cold as I have and I am not half so bad as some of the rest of the rest of them. We have been having some very disagreeable weather since we came here. It has stormed about half the time and it makes the camp very muddy and is bad getting around, and this Ill. mud is as bad as the VA mud about sticking and sometimes I think it is worse. But it will not be muddy all the time, and when it gets dried up and the mud is gone we will have a very pleasant camp, and what will make it more pleasant than others have been- we will probably stay here till our time is out and when we move we will know where we are going to. And another thing is we are amongst a civilized race of beings now and we are not expecting to be in a fight every day or two. We have company cooks now and have all of our rations cooked for us. Our band is broken up now and I am in the drum corps now. I play the bass drum. I have got a new one. It cost $25. I sold my horn for $15. In your last letter you spoke about Frank and me coming home on furlough. I don’t know whether I had better try and get one or not. I don’t think I could get one and come when Frank doe anyway. Frank would have been home before this time if we had not have come here. Next time you write send me a few stamps. Goodbye, E.A. Blanchard

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March the 5th, 1865 Camp Butler near Springfield, Ill. Dear Father, It has been some time since I have heard from home and I suppose it seems like a longtime since you heard from me. I have had one letter from home since we have been here and I have wrote two. The last one I wrote I put 50 dollars in it. I hope it has gone all right. We expect to get paid soon. I hear the paymaster will have the money to pay us next week. The health of the regiment is not very good. The change of climate has made some of our boys sick. I don’t think there is one in the regiment that has not been troubled with a cold. Some are so hoarse they can’t speak loud. One of the old members of the 24th died last week. I have had some cold but have got about over it now. Eli is well and enjoys himself first rate. I have not been down to Springfield yet and I don’t know as there will be any more passes given this spring. The reason that passes are not given is this: some of the 24th went out on a pass the other day. They went to a farmer’s house and cut up and used the most insulting language and when they were told that the family were sick they paid no attention to it but pitched on to the old man and bruised him quite bad and when they left took away articles of value. One of the chaps has already been pointed out and until the rest are brought forward no more passes will be given. The 24th is getting a bad name around Springfield and I have no doubt that this affair will come out in the Springfield Journal. I hope they will all be found out and severely punished. Shouting would not be any too good for them. Anyone that will go to a house and cut up the way some of the 24th did the other day is not fit to live. By what I can learn, it was none of the old members of the 24th but some recruits that belong to the regiment. Camp Butler is a good place to spend money. There is everything to be had that a man wants if he has the money. Things are dearer here than they are at the front. Money goes fast here with some. I have got some laid away so when I get a furlough I can pay my fare. I don’t know as I have any more to write today. May this find you all well and happy is the wish of your son,

F. A. Blanchard

Camp Butler Near Springfield Ill. March 5th, 1865 Dear Parents, I now sit down to write you a few lines to let you know that we are both well and enjoying ourselves in the best possible manner. When we first came to this camp we were both of us quite unwell with head colds but we are now nearly over them and will soon be sound as ever again. There was a good many of the boys in the reg’t who caught cold

180 coming down here that are now sick in the hospital, and one man has died. He was a good soldier and came out with the reg’t and has been in nearly every battle that the reg’t has. I tell you, it seems pretty hard for a man to go through everything the way he did and his time being so near out to come here and die just as he had got out of danger from the front. The most of the boys are getting over their colds now, but there are quite a number of cases of the measles now in the reg’t. Some of them are pretty severe for they caught a heavy cold with them and some of them are pretty sick, but I think none of them are very dangerous. We have not had but one letter from you since we came to this camp, and that we both answered a short time after receiving it. I don’t see why it is we don’t get any for I think it must be you have written once or twice since then. I have not been to Springfield but once since I have been here. It was not so nice a place as I thought it would be. It is about as muddy a place as ever I saw and there is not a street paved in the whole town. But they say it is a pretty place in the summer when it is dried up so there is no mud. Frank has been writing this afternoon and you will probably get our letters by the mail. I have not had a letter from Asa L. or Marve since long before we left Virginia. I don’t see the reason why they don’t write. I expect the sleighing must be all gone at home now for this winter it had all left here before we got here. So we will have to wait till next winter before our time comes. I don’t know how long it will be before Frank will get a furlough, but he will be the first man that goes. I hardly think I will try and get one but will wait till my time is out. Goodbye. Your son, E.A. Blanchard

Camp Butler, Illinois March 11th, AD 1865 Dear Parents, I have not written you in some time, and as I thought perhaps a few lines from me would be accepted by you with a little pleasure I will write and let you know how we are getting along and what we are up to. Frank and myself are both well as usual and the general health of the boys is better than it was and we all feel a good deal better than we did when we got here, for we are getting better of our colds. The most of us are entirely well. Those who are not well yet have been sick the most of them. But they are nearly all of them getting better and we have but few men in the hospital. There was one man died the other day with the measles, which makes two men the reg’t has lost since we came here. There has been a good many cases of the measles in the army and a good many men died with them for the want of proper care. I think it is the fault of the doctor in most cases in not knowing how to treat them.

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We are getting lots of recruits now days and it will not be long before the reg’t will be as large as it was when it came out. There was 35 men came to our co. the other day, which makes our co. nearly full. It is not much such a co. as it was once last summer when rank and the capt. were the only two men in it for duty. There is some talk that the reg’t will be ordered back to the front when it is recruited full, but I don’t think that we will have to go. I think the reg’t will stay here till its time is out and then the old men will be ordered to the front. I think Frank will get a furlough now in a short time to come home but I cannot tell exactly when he will get it. He will probably get a ten-day furlough so he will be home a bout a week. I don’t think it will pay for me to get one when I could not be more than a week at home. We signed the pay rolls the other day and are expecting to get paid every day. We are having some very pleasant weather now days and things seem to go off better every day. We received our back mail from Washington today. I got three letters: one from Flora and one from Marve. Nothing more at present. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

Camp Butler March 27, 1865 Dear Father, I will write a few lines to you this morning and let you know that Eli and myself are both well and in good spirits, and I hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessings. I would have wrote to you sooner but I have been looking for a letter from home every day for about a week and I did not want to write until I received one from home. The mail has not come in yet this morning. If there is any letters comes from home before ten o’clock, I will mention it in this letter. Yesterday was Sunday and we had Sunday morning inspection. We had to turn out with our knapsacks on; also our canteens and haversacks. It was a warm, pleasant day and everything went of grand. The regiment made a fine appearance. It seems something like old times to see so many men in the 24th. The regiment will soon be filled up to the original standard. Recruits will enlist in this sooner than they will in any other because we are going to stay here all summer. In less than a week, the regiment will be filled up. I heard the colonel say the other day that we the 24th would stay at Camp Butler all summer. We are having spring weather here; the frost is all out of the ground, the grass has commenced to grow, the trees are putting forth their buds, the farmers are putting the seeds in the ground. It is a very busy time now. It seems like old times to get in a country of civilization once more, and when I think that the time is not far distant when I will be permitted to return to my native state and see my friends and home again, and there live and enjoy life with those that are dearer than life to me it makes my heart feel gay to think that such is actually the case. I hope I can get a furlough before my time is out. I think when the regiment gets filled up

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and we get settled down all right I can get permission to go home for a few days. If I get one I will let you know it before I get home, but don’t look for me unless I write to you that I am coming. I have got me a nice suit of clothes and when I come home, you may think I put on style. I, for one, like to see folks put on style if they don’t go to, for I suppose I shall not appear like the same boy to you that I was before I left home. I know I shall have more to say yet what I do say will be sensible. It will not be war that I shall talk of all together. Some boys, when they go home, they think if they can tell of some big battle that they have been in and what narrow escapes they have had – when they tell you this they think they are very smart men when at the same time they don’t know but precious little and perhaps never saw a fight. There is always some that will struggle when we are marching on the enemy, and when the fights come off, they are cooling coffee in the rear and out of harm’s way. Yet they are the ones that can tell all about the fight. If you ask them if they were in the battle they will say, “Oh, yes,” and they will go on to tell you what narrow chances they have run and how near they came to being killed and you would no doubt think they were telling the truth. You could not say that they did not do these deeds of bravery for you were not there; and if you did tell them that you doubted their word, they would want to fight you right off. So the best way is to let them tell their story and you can believe what you want to of it. But I know of some few in this regiment if they go to telling of some of their big stories I may hear of it and I shall tell them right to their face that they never was in a fight and while the regiment was at the front fighting they were straggling in the rear. They would not be very apt to straggle ahead for there is always too much danger ahead of the army – when we are on the move – to straggle ahead. Well, I have written about enough for once so I will bring my letter to a close. May this find you all well and enjoying life is the wish of your son,

F. A. Blanchard

Camp Butler Springfield, Ill. April 5th, 1865 Dear Parents, I received your letter of the 27th inst. this morning and was glad to learn that Frank had got home all right and that you were all well, and am happy to say in answer that I am also well and enjoying life first rate. We are having great times here about the downfall of Richmond and today salutes are being fired all over the state in honor of the victories won on our side since the opening of the campaign. I should have written you sooner than this but the day after Frank went home, I had a chance to go to Baltimore as a guard with some troops so I started off with them and had a first time of it. We started the next day after Frank left and we got back last night at ten o’clock. We stayed in Baltimore Saturday and Sunday and we had a first rate time of it there. The

183 brigade band that used to belong to our brigade in the field are stationed there and I stayed with them the most of the time. We went to the theater Saturday night and saw the best play I ever saw in my life. We left Baltimore at ten o’clock Sunday evening and did not hear of Richmond being captured till we got in Pittsburgh the next day, and when we got there of all the rejoicings I ever saw in my life. I saw there business was all suspended and the people were all out in the streets, and flags were flying from every house top, and all the locomotives and cars were decorated with banners, and it was the same way the rest of the way home. Every little town we came through in the night we would see bonfires burning and hear cannons being fired. I tell you what, it beat the fourth of July, all hallows. The papers say this morning that Jeff Davis is crying for peace and wants to call an armistice but Old Abe says he can’t see it and he is going to whip them to his entire satisfaction, and that will be pretty severely but none too much for them, for if ever a confederacy needed a sound thrashing, they do, and Grant is sure to give it to them. I shall not get a furlough, for it is as you say, it might be some time before I could get it and my time is so near out it will not pay. Before you get this, Frank will be on his way back to the reg’t. I shall write as soon as he comes. Goodbye, E. A. Blanchard

Camp Butler Springfield, Ill. April 24th Dear Brother, I will write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and in good spirits. [Tom] Sanders received your letter of the 22nd this morning. We are sorry to hear you are so unwell. I hope by the time this letter reaches you, you will be much better. There is several of the boys that went with you have not yet returned, John Pattee, for one. He has got the mumps. I don’t expect he has not got them as hard as you. Tom says you had better get a certificate from some doctor that you are unable to return to the regiment. Perhaps you may be well enough to return to the regiment in a day or two or a few days. If you are, you had better not see any doctors. We have moved into Co. G barracks since you left. Web has got your things. We are having fine weather here now, but it has been very cold for the last few days. You have had one letter since you left the camp that was from Marve. I will send it to you. I have not had a letter from home for over a week. Some of you must write as soon as you get this. Graves plays the bass drum. The boys make it go very well. I will write no more at present. This from your brother, F. A. Blanchard

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Monday May 29th [1865] Dear Father, I received your more than welcome letter this morning and am glad to learn that you and Eli got home all right. I have been very anxious to hear from you and know how Eli stood the journey. He is home now where he will have good care and he will get well much faster than he would at Camp Butler. I am well and have enough to eat such as it is, but there is a great complaint made about rations. Most of the boys don’t get half enough to eat. I think it is a shame for the boys in Camp Butler to be treated the way they are. Some of the Illinois soldiers that are waiting here to be mustered out of the service say they will not stand it. They burnt down eleven barracks last night and they say they will burn down the rest of them. The buildings they burnt are nearly opposite the one I stay in. Some have been arrested on suspicion of setting them afire and put in the guardhouse. I don’t see much prospect of getting away from here very soon. There is no telling when we will go. We may go next week and we may not get away from here until our time is out. Eli must write to me when he can. I will not write any more today. This from your son, F. A. Blanchard

Camp Butler, June 7th, 1865 Dear Mother, I will write a few lines this morning to let you know that I am well. I am glad to hear that Eli is getting better. You can tell him that his drum is all right. I will take care of it when we go home. I think we will be in Detroit next week. You can tell Eli that Joe Bale and Stoddard has came to the regiment also. Our brass band that we left in Baltimore – they say they were acknowledged to be the best brass band that ever was in Baltimore. We are having very warm weather here. We have had no rain for a long time. Father wanted to know how Spaulding came out with his suit. There was nothing proved against him so he was returned to duty. I presume this will be the last letter you will receive from me while we stay at Camp Butler. No more at present, F. A. Blanchard

Tuesday Morning June the 20th, 1865 Dear Son, I wrote to you yesterday that I did not think it for you to get a furlough and come home but we have all been talking the matter over and have concluded that if you can get a furlough to come home you had better do so for Eli seems to be failing. I hardly think he

185 will live a week longer. I am not well. Mother is completely worn out. Ernest is sick. Asa L. and Bonny hold out yet, but they are getting worn out. If you come you had better fetch all of your things for it is most likely that the regiment will be in Detroit before you will have to return. Eli’s appetite failed yesterday so that he does not take scarce any nourishment at all and he is very low and weak and the least little fit of coughing exhausts him. He wants to see you very much. I am hoping that the regiment will be in Detroit before this ever reaches Camp Butler. I will write no more at present. This from your father, Worthy Blanchard P.S. Mother would have written a little but she has no time.

Undated letters

As it is not very late and the boys are not quite ready to go out and practice yet, I don’t know but I can find time to write a little more than I thought I could this morning. The flies are so very thick here it is almost impossible for me to write or do anything else. I never saw the flies thicker in my life than they are here at present. They never was half so thick at home as they are here. They beat all the mosquitoes I ever saw and they are always getting into something. We can’t cook anything and let it stand a minute without it being full of flies. We only [have] the conveniences here that we would have at home, we would not be bothered with them so much. Other ways we are having a first rate time at this place (which is the same as when I wrote you before) the weather is rather warm now and then but we can stand that well enough. We get first rate good rations to eat. Some of them are furnished by the Sanitary Commission. We sometimes draw codfish, mackerel, canned fruits of all kinds, pickles, tomatoes, sauerkraut, cabbage and onions, besides we draw plenty of bread, sugar, coffee, and meat from the government. So you see we are not in a condition to starve very soon. But we don’t very often get all of these rations from the Commission at once, and sometimes we don’t draw any, but not very often. We would get a great deal more than we do if there was fair play about it, which as a general thing is not for you must understand the Commission does not furnish this stuff for the officers to hog down but they sometimes do do it and sometimes these rations are sold by the officers in the [illegible] department to our officers and that is something they have no right to do for the rations are calculated to go to the soldiers and not be sold to the officers. But they will have to be careful for the men who are selling these rations are being watched and it will be a sore job for the man that gets caught at it. This is quite a pleasant place here where we are camped and the country here is pleasant. It is rather more so I think than VA will average all around. It is quite a country through

186 here for fruit. The other day I took my haversack and some other boys went with me that had guns or revolvers with them and we went outside of the picket line to see what we could find. We found lots of very good apples and all the melons we wanted. We had a first rate time and got back all right, but I think I shall not venture out there again for there is some danger of being captured. We did not know but what they might attack us, but we were prepared for them and would have given them a warm reception if they had come. But for all that we might have been surprised and taken since we have been here and I believe the safest thing will be to keep away from there. In your letter, you said something about Asa L. going to Ypsilanti to school this winter and wanted to know what I thought about his going. Of course I think he should go. I would like to see him go there the year around but I suppose you cannot spare him. I wish I was at home to go but I have written enough for one day and will stop. Eli A. Blanchard

The way we did hop and jump when that news came into last night was not slow. They did not know how to control themselves. They sung and carried on till after midnight. I had to go around last night and beat “Tit Tat Too” at half past 9 to extinguish lights, but it did not stop their noise for they was bound to have a jubilee if it was in the dark. The boys all look cheerful. I express a desire to walk into them as soon as they can get the chance, but there is no danger of that, for we expect to stay here a good while yet. We have a good place to wash our clothes and swim in the eastern branch of the Potomac. The tide begins to come in the morning and goes out in the evening. I shall now have [to] close my letter, for my pen is getting so poor that I can hardly write. I don’t see why you or some of our folks don’t write. The other boys have most all got letters but me. Oh, I forgot to tell about Franklin and the other boys but they are all right and feel bully [illegible] all in good spirits now. Be sure and write and tell al the boys to do so. I can’t find much time to write to them. I have to practice so much. Give my respects to all I know. Yours truly, E. A. B. Address your letters Eli A. Blanchard, Co. K, 24 Mich. Infantry, Washington D.C.

When it stopped raining and cleared away and this morning the sun shines as bright as ever, and not a cloud to be seen. Well, Franklin and I washed yesterday as we generally do Mondays. We got done about noon and then after dinner we went up on the parade ground and had a fine time playing ball. Well, this morning I had to get up some wood and Franklin had to go on guard. Since I have got the wood up I have written this letter and it is now after 11 o’clock and I must stop writing, build a fire, and get some dinner,

187 for Franklin will be in off from guard in a few minutes and I must have it ready so that he can eat and go back. I have a little more to do now that I thought I should when my old drum got smashed, for the col. has us over at his quarters at work some of the time. The drums are all broken in the regiment now so we have no music but the brass band. The col. wants us to take guns but has not made us do that and I don’t know what he will do with us. He could send us home but he won’t do that, and I guess he will get some new drums before long. I must stop writing. Goodbye. Write soon as you can. From your son, E. A. Blanchard

Songs Eli Sent Home

“On to Richmond”

We have the navy, we have the men We are bound to Richmond to storm the rebel den

Chorus: On the Richmond so early in the morning On to Richmond I heard a Yankee say We will flank her on the North, we will shell her on the South And storm her in center and run the rebels out

Cho. On to Richmond

Old Lee is in the center, Jackson in the rear On the right and on the left the noble’s Hills appear

Cho.

A Longstreet they have to travel and Branches have to cross Magruder was going to give the Yankee Devils sauce

Cho.

On the first of June the balls began to fly The Yankees wheeled about and changed the battle cry

Chorus: Off from Richmond so early in the morning

188

Down to the gunboats run, boys, run Virginia is a-coming with her death-dealing steed Georgia is a-charging through swamps and through fields

Chorus: Off to Richmond

The Palmetto rebels is now on our trail The South Caroliner devils to rides us on a rail

Cho.

The Alabama rebels is abound to win or die Texas bloody rangers fly, boys, fly

Cho.

The Louisiana legion of Butler is the cry The Mississippi rifles fly, boys, fly

Cho. Off

Florida is hunting all through the Bush The rebels is a-coming, push, boys, push

Chorus

Never mind your knapsacks, never mind your gun Fighting with the rebels is anything but fun

Cho.

A farm was the preface and each man a slave We had better all skedaddle or we will all find a grave

McClellan is a chum boy, old Lincoln is a fool Seward is a liar of the Horace Greeley school

Cho. Off from Richmond

189

“The Battle Cry of Freedom”

We are marching to the field Boys were going to the fight Shouting the battle cry of freedom and the right And we bear the glorious stars for the Union Shouting the battle cry of freedom ______

The union forever, hurrah boys, hurrah Down with the traitor, up with the star For we’re marching to the field, boys Going to the fight Shouting the battle cry of freedom ______

We will meet the rebel host, boys With fearless heart and true Shouting the battle cry of freedom And we show what Uncle Sam has For loyal men to do, shouting the Battle cry of freedom ______

If we fall amid the fray, boys, we’ll Face them to the last, shouting the Battle cry of freedom And our comrades brave shall hear us As they go rushing past Shouting the battle cry of freedom ______

Yes, for Liberty and Union are we springing to the fight Shouting the battle cry of freedom And the victory shall be ours for rising in our might Shouting the battle cry of freedom.

190

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