1st Wisconsin Cavalry - Rebel Spy Caught

Item LTR-6308

Description

Original Civil War soldier's letter. 8 pages written in period ink.


Bloomfield MO
July 4, 1862

Dear Wife

I am again on duty at the guard house, but will attempt to write you on this memorable day. Though it is uncertain how well I shall be able to succeed, for as whisky is circulating quite freely. I am called upon every few minutes to give the guards some new instructions, help in quelling some row, or take some insubordinate soldier to prison. I have had no letter from you since I last wrote; I don’t see why I can’t have one as well as others. The mail came in Wednesday and almost every soldier but me got a letter. Bill Bowers got one from his wife – gets one or two every week from her, and they are real long ones too. He lets me read one occasionally. She is a fine scholar, a first rate composer and writes excellent letters. But I suppose she does not have much else to do and of course can have time to write long letters. But the greatest mystery is that other’s letters go, both to and from camp, in from five to eight days, while ours are generally twice that time on the road.

We commenced this day by firing at sunrise 24 guns in quick succession then a pole was raised and a new flag went up. A great many citizens both men and women are in here from the country around, to see and be seen. Citizens are not as shy of us soldiers as they were when we first came here. For the first two or three weeks, and we were traveling all the time. I think we did not meet a single team on the roads, did not see a half dozen men at work in the fields, and in fact saw but very few persons anywhere. The men were skulked away somewhere in the swamps, the women at our approach scud into the houses and hid themselves as best they could, while the children, if they chanced to be away from the house, flew to the woods and hid themselves in the brush like young partridges. I was amused one day to see two boys who were mowing in a field some 100 rods from the road. On seeing us they left their team and ran as if they would break their necks for the woods. Though the boys were but 12 or 14 years old, yet at a distance, they were easily mistaken for men; and supposing from their running so, that they must be rebels. Some of our men pursued and quickly overtook the boys who were half dead with fear. Of course they were not harmed. Now all the men who are in the country are industriously at work, and many women are seen tilling the fields that they may raise food for themselves and their children while their husbands are away in the rebel army.

We have just received intelligence of the taking of Richmond. The account says that it was the most terrible battle ever fought in America, that the rebels were completely defeated and that we took fifty thousand prisoners. We have heard of Richmond being taken so many times that I place but little confidence in the report; still I hope it is so.

The paymaster is here now and I suppose we shall get our pay within a very few days. How much pay I shall get I cannot tell. If I get 40cts a day for the use of my horse, and everything else is all right, I shall get about $100. Whether I own Zack or not, I hardly know. I do know that I protested against selling him at every step and as a consequence, brought down the displeasure of many of the officers on my head. Major LaGrange, who was then commanding the regiment, administered to me a severe and angry rebuke for my stubbornness. But I would not yield – would not be a part to the sale, and refused to take any pay for the horse or send him home or otherwise dispose of him, for I firmly believed them and still believe that I had law on my side; that the pretended order from the War Department for the sale of horses originated with our regimental officers and that I had a right, according to the express provisions of the laws of the United States, to own the horse which I should ride in the service. But I shall know soon how it will be – the paymaster, I suppose, will decide the matter. If I cannot get pay for the use of him, and he is not mine, then I will try and get pay for him. The only thing which will go to show that I consented to the sale is that I had him branded with the letters “U.S.”. This I did because I was ordered to, but I did it under a protest which I can prove by plenty of witnesses.

Another thing I am a little troubled about. You recollect that I told you I was overpaid the other payday $20.40, which amount I refunded to Capt. Hoyt on a pretensed receipt from the paymaster, stating that Hoyt had paid back the money. It now turns out that this receipt was a humbug – a forgery, and that Capt. Hoyt never paid back the money, and the account now stands against me, “overpaid $20.40.” The paymaster says if I can satisfy him of the truth of my statement, I shall be fully paid and lose nothing; but, that forged receipt has been destroyed and cannot be produced and the only persons present when I paid the money, Mrs. Hoyt and Lieutenant Cooper – are far away, I know not where. Therefore, it all depends on my word alone and the value which is placed upon it by those who have known me since I have been in the army. If I get no pay for the use of my horse and have to lose this $20, then after paying Alex McGowan what I owe him and keeping a little for my own use, I shall have but little if any to send home to you; and finally, I don’t know how I should send it if I should be so fortunate to get any.

The First Battalion came up here yesterday to get their pay, after which they are going back to West Prairie. I have seen the Alling boys, Hoxsie, Williams and Frank Hart. They are all well. I think this regiment will not stay in this part of the country much longer. Where we are, I cannot tell; we hear extravagant and conflicting every day, but I should think we were going further south, into Arkansas probably – it may be still further, possibly into Texas. This much I know, day before yesterday a large train of provisions and ammunition came in from the Cape, most of which provisions enough to last this regiment 6 or 8 weeks – is still here loaded on the wagons, ready, it appears to me, to move when the regiment goes. I hardly relish the idea of going from here, for Bloomfield is as pleasant and healthy a place as can be found in Mo. And here we have large and commodious quarters when we are not exposed to rain and storms. Besides this, we have comparatively nothing to do; true we have a good deal of guard duty to perform, but there is not real work about that, and in warm weather it is perfectly comfortable business. We do not drill, and when off duty, lie around in the shade, or if we can get permission, go into the country and pick berries, or get apples which are now beginning to get ripe. In fact, in consequence of the lack of exercise and the warm weather, we are getting to be as indolent and lazy a set of men as ever breathed. Many of us, and I fear your husband must be counted among the numbers, have hardly energy enough to stir, moving around at a snail’s pace, dragging our lazy limbs after us. We ought to be thankful, and I believe I am, that we are having so much easier time than most soldiers. Only think what one army before Richmond have suffered for the past month! The gnats which annoyed us so much a while ago have all disappeared, mosquitoes have gone and only vermin which trouble us now are wood ticks – which we do not get unless we lie on the ground – fleas and lice. I fear if we leave this place that we shall never be so well off again until the war is over and we are again in our happy homes.

It is now sundown – bang! goes the cannon and the anniversary of American independence is nearly over. A great many have been drunk, but all is passing off quietly now, and no serious trouble has occurred. Kearn has had his first regular “bust” since he left St. Louis and is now sleeping soundly. Well I believe my letter is now finished. I have written it by short spells of a minute of two each and I suppose it is a good deal disconnected, but you must excuse it.

Dear Frankie: I hope you have spent the Fourth happily. But I do not suppose you have, because I was not there to enjoy it with you. Do write often. Write long letters. They are always so good that I always wish, after I have read one, that it was longer – a great deal longer.
Write about everything – about yourself, Willie, Father and Mother, Mother Bowen, Lucinda, and all the rest of the folks whose been to our house, where you have been, about the crops, yes, our crops. I just thought about them and finally, write about everything.
Goodbye from your husband, C. P. Goodrich.

It is evening. I thought I had finished my letter, but I shall have to be up some hours yet tonight and I cannot employ myself more pleasurably than by talking to you through the medium of the pen. Even if I do not say anything very cunning or interesting. It has been said today, that tonight there would be a ball in the upper part of the court house. There is now music and dancing. I can hear the squeaking fiddle, the clatter of heavy military boots with rattling spurs, and shouting and stamping such as usually accompanies a dance when there are no females. The Mo. Ladies refused to attend the ball and I think they showed their good sense in so doing.

Frankie, do you recollect how we were employed one year ago today? We did not enjoy ourselves the best. We had anticipated a day of pleasure on the shores of Ripley Lake, but death, the destroyer of human happiness entered the house of our nearest neighbor and cast a deep gloom on our spirits. You stayed with the bereaved family rendering such comfort and assistance as was in your power to give.

Ah!, has not this Fourth been a sad one to thousands of families whose relatives and friends have perished on the battlefield a Richmond!

Our prison has gradually been filling up with secesh prisoners till this morning they numbered 30. It has taken but four men at a time to guard them and it seems to me that they cannot have much courage or they would, some of them at least, would have escaped. Especially as the guards are very careless and sometimes get asleep. But they all stayed while one of our regiment, who was taken prisoner a few days ago in Arkansas, safely escaped from four guards who were vigilantly watching him. He was condemned to be hung the next day. Twelve of those prisoners were released today on taking the oath. Twelve more are to be sent to the Cape tomorrow.

A rebel spy is among the prisoners. He was caught here in Bloomfield one day this week. Our man Clifton saw him and knew him. He acted all the time as a spy when Clifton was in the rebel army.

There is so much going on tonight, and we guards have got to go and stay by the building where the paymaster sleeps so that he will not be robbed by soldiers made reckless by bad whisky, that I will have to close.
C.P.G.