150th Pennsylvania Infantry - Bucktail Battle Letter

Item LTR-8756

Description

Original Civil War soldier's letter. 4 pages, written in period pencil. Additional information on Charles A. Frey's battle reflections can be found at https://charlesfrey.wordpress.com.


Near Petersburg
June 19th 1864

Father,

As I have a little leisure time this afternoon or at least I think I have. I will drop you a few lines to let you know that I am yet all right. I received your letter of the 5th in due time. But since that time, have had no chance of writing. Last Sunday evening, we left our brass works at the Chickahominy. And since that time, we have marched through nights. Been one night on picket and lay under fire one night. So you see we have had but little rest at night and no better in daytime. We are now laying under fire in the siege against Petersburg. This seems to be the main point at present. Our men are determined on taking it and the rebs determined to hold it. We have, thus far, been gaining on them. We have now one of the rail roads in our possession. I think it is the one leading from Petersburg to City Point. But we have lost a great many men. Evening before last, the Third Division of the 9th Corps, charged their works and drove them. Francis is with the regiment again, but I believe, came out safe. So one of their men told me. I have not seen him yet.

Yesterday, our Division charged their works but did not take them. Our line being too weak and their position being a strong one. Our regiment was thrown out as skirmishers and so did not lose a great many men. Although we were in, same as the rest, we were deployed on the brow of a hill within 600 yards of the enemies’ works. As our Division came up within fixed bayonets, the order was to advance the skirmish line. We now rushed down the hill helter skelter through a deep ravine of thick underbrush and up to the brow of the hill on which was the rebel works. Here we halted. For the line of battle could not get through the ravine as fast as what we did. As soon as they could get through, they came up to where we were, but did not go any further. The rebels kept up a terrible fire of musketry with grape and canister which made us lay low. We were now in a mighty hot place. Forward, we could not go. To go back over the hill, the way we came, would be almost certain death. They had a battery with which they were raking down through the hollow in which we lay. Knocking our men in every direction. A dispatch was then sent to our Division Commander to report the condition we were in. The order came back that we had to remain where we were, even if every man was captured. We remained there until this morning, when we were relieved and taken a short distance to the rear. But our position, at present, is but little better than what it was yesterday. As the bullets are whistling over us all the time. We have had three or four men wounded out of our regiment. Today, E. Campbell and myself have dug ourselves a pit and we must keep our heads mighty low. Samuel Rhule was the only one of our company that was wounded yesterday. He was wounded in the foot. With all the hard times we have had of late, I feel frustrated. Several weeks ago, I was as poor as a snake and no appetite. I am now beginning to gain again and can eat like a horse. This campaign, I hope, will soon end. And with it, the war. If all this hard marching and fighting that we have been doing this spring, doesn’t do something to end the war, I don’t know what to think. But we will wait and time, I think will soon tell.

Haymaking is near at hand, again. I wish I could be at home to help you put yours away. I received a letter from S. H. Himmelreich and one from Jacob Prutzman today. Jacob is in the hospital in Baltimore and says they won’t give him a furlough.

You do not need to send me any money, as I have plenty. Paper and envelopes, I can buy.

I will close for this time. Hoping to hear from you soon. The weather is very warm, not much rain. We crossed the James River at Windmill Point on steamboats.

What a splendid country through there.

Write as often as you can.

Your son,

Charles A. Frey