150 Years Ago (1863 11/13)

Brattleboro, Vt. Nov. 13. 1863.

Dearest wife:-

As good fortune will have it, I have plenty of time to write. I was one of the guards and one of the number is detailed to act as orderly for the officer of the day, so that relieved me from all duty, except such as the officer of the day may require of me, and so far it has been but little. I can sleep tonight. Am relieved from guard duty. Have no dirty gun to clean in the morning and no drill tomorrow in the forenoon, and no police duty Sunday morning. It is the first breathing spell I have had since I have been here.

The guards have to keep their guns loaded, and when they are relieved by the new guard in the morning, they are marched out one side of the camp ground and fire off their guns. That leaves them dirty, besides the night air affects them and it takes about two hours work to get them clean. The guns must be so clean that they must not soil the cleanest white glove. The barrel must be so clean that the head of the runner, after taking it from the barrel will not soil the glove, if rubbed upon the glove, so you can see that it is something to keep clean here.

On Sunday morning there is a knapsack inspection, socks, drawers and shirts must be clean and packed in the
knapsack, blankets also must be packed, over coat must be rolled up and strapped on the top of the knapsack, march out to the parade ground, arms are inspected, the rear rank being marched to the rear all facing to the front, where the arms are inspected. The front rank are faced about, bringing the two ranks face to face, knapsacks are unslung, laid at the feet, all exactly in a row opened, and the officer marches down the front rank and up the rear and every knapsack is examined, and woe to the unlucky man that has any dirty clothes there. Knapsacks are then fastened up and slung upon the back, the front rank about face, the rear rank are marched up and the arms which were stacked are taken, company right faced, marched up to the barracks, brought to the front and dismissed. Perhaps, you will think that this will not pay postage, but I have written it that you may know what knapsack inspection is, when you read about it in a soldier’s letter. Sometime, I will tell you something about dress parade.

I have not been to Hinsdale since the funeral. I shall go next Sunday if I can get a pass. Oh, how I wish I could go home to spend the Sabbath and a few more days with it. I am not homesick in the least, but Oh Dear! How I should like to be there once more, and the children how much I want to see them. Tell them to be good. I
shall come and see them again by and by and will bring them something nice. Kiss them all a good loving kiss for me and the baby how I wish to see him, and to see you all. How warm and good my heart feels towards home. I have just heard that Frederick has gone to Chicago, so I shall not see him if I go over.

I am writing at the sergeant’s table in the guard house. Alba Warren is standing guard on post No. 1, which is at the door. He is talking with corporal Irish; a fine man from St. Albans the subject of conversation is. How slow the time passes today. That is a fact. The prisoners were all sent off yesterday, nearly all the new recruits, about seventy – went at the same time, all under a guard from Company A, the last was from Company B. The drum is beating for dress parade, but I do not have to jump and put on the straps and take the muskets. The sergeant says “Fall in guards”. That does not take me. All the guards have to be marched out on dress parade and take a position by themselves, except those on posts. I have just run out and have taken a peep at the dress parade. It is the first time tht I have had a chance to be a spectator since I went into the company.

Richard Chaplin’s wife is here. I shall try to see her tomorrow. She came from St. Johnsbury. Mrs. Gray is coming down to see her son, I understand. Warren says that he just saw one of Past Allen’s boys march off to the barracks among a lot of new recruits. I shall see when I go to supper. I want to get those nuts up home somehow without paying an express bill. Well, I have been pretty blue for some time about that State pay, but the skies are brighter. I understand that the bill has passed to pay drafted men and those that have sent substitutes the state pay of course. Ames will give it to me. Get Uncle Parker to attend to it and get Amos to give you an order to draw it. The law may make me all right, but it is infamous to pay the man who sends the substitute, and tax the poor substitute to pay the rich man who hired him to come.

There are many a poor man here who will never see the seven dollars that the men they come for. The
Legislature has been cursed enough today to sink. I told the boys not to curse them, for they could not sink them any lower than they were. If they had nearly paid the drafted men it would have looked better, but to pay the rich man that hired the substitute is the most infamous. I am ashamed of Vermont. I am going to send you the names of the members of our company and you will see who are substitutes. How has Edson Lyon voted? I have written two letters to Mr. Parlin, to know something about the state of affairs in Montpelier, but have heard nothing from him. I called the Legislature a set of Donkeys, and I expect that he felt hit. Well, if he has voted against paying the substitutes I will give him harder shots than I have yet. There are better men than could be found in the legislature this year in the army as substitutes. There is more intelligence in Company B, first batallion, Drafted men stationed in United States Barracks, Brattleboro, than in a dozen such bodies as have been convened at Montpelier, styled the Legislature of Vermont. You say that they talked of giving me the seven. I have all the time believed that they would do it. I feel truly pleased and gratified that they had agitated the subject. It is no more than I should expect from me. Jackasses might imitate the Legislature, they would not come up to them, for they are a good deal more so, but I have said enough on this subject. I think that I am all right, but I feel for some of the boys that that will not be so.

There has been many letters written today. The boys mean to know how they stand. You letter has come to hand. It is not very cheerful, but I am not as blue as I have been. If it had come last night I should have been down pretty low in the mouth, I assure you. I think that I should have tried to get an examination for a commissioner in a nigger regiment pretty soon. There was a corporal in one of the old regiments that has been detailed for duty here, been to Washington, passed an examination, and has not gotten his commission as captain. The shoulder straps make him feel dreadfully. He walks as if he had swallowed a tree top and the limbs passed through every joint. His name is Rice from Brookfield, but if we get the seven dollars we are all right, except the separation. Wes Allen is on the ground. He is going to go home if he can get a furlough to go home. If he can I will send my valise with the nuts if he goes, but it is doubtful of his going. You were right about my not writing. The last stamp was gone, but it seems that you had not got it, hope you have by this time. Must close. It seems that I never did love you as now.

Charles.

I have written just as it happened my pen is loose. It runs right along, just about as my tongue would if
I was with you tonight. There is much more nonsense than I thought I would write this morning, but there is no room, and I think that I have got as much paper as will go for three cents. I shall write Monday. I go to Hinsdale Sunday. I shall write more often than I have heretofore. No paymaster here yet. I have had to be prudent with my stamps for sometime back, and there is no money in the camp, or was until today. Yesterday the recruits were paid off and many an old watch was sold at twice its value. Good bye.