Search

Virtually all of Henry Pippitt's surviving Civil War correspondence consists of letters addressed to his mother, Rebecca, documenting two intertwining themes: the Petersburg Campaign from start to finish, and Pippitt's personal campaign to keep himself and his family in good order.Pippitt's letters offer commentary on the last year of the war as seen through the eyes of a young working class man, grown up far beyond his years.

Virtually all of Henry Pippitt's surviving Civil War correspondence consists of letters addressed to his mother, Rebecca, documenting two intertwining themes: the Petersburg Campaign from start to finish, and Pippitt's personal campaign to keep himself and his family in good order. Well written, if not particularly polished, Pippitt's letters offer fine commentary on the last year of the war as seen through the eyes of a young working class man, grown up far beyond his years.

Pippitt's personal struggles weave throughout the collection, surfacing at numerous points, and his various ways of dealing with his ragged home life are reflective both of the depth of his difficulties and his resourcefulness. He alternately castigates, cajoles, threatens or ignores his dead beat father, does his best to assuage his mother's depression over losing her son to the army, and her jealousy of the woman he courts, and he does his best to deal with or explain away his financial problems and his own lapses into drink. Throughout all of his experiences, military and personal, Pippitt matures physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Of particular interest is the letter of September 4, 1864, in which Pippitt describes why he is (again) out of cash. After sketching a somewhat fantastic tale of heavy rains, floods, and an entire camp swept away in the deluge, he swears that the story is the truth and not a lie. This and other letters illustrate an interesting dichotomy in Pippitt's character. Having grown up in a lower-class family, he is constantly aware of the shortage of money, both in camp and at home, but despite his frequent promises to send home sizable sums, he manages to fritter away most of his pay and at times, dips liberally into the already slender family purse to supply himself with what he calls "necessaries."

In more narrowly military terms, the collection contains several brief, but powerful letters describing the hard life in the Petersburg trenches, skirmishes, and the battles of Petersburg, the Crater, and Cold Harbor. A curious side note is Pippitt's tale of the Confederate defenders of Petersburg under-mining Union forts facing the city following the Crater disaster. The series of letters written from Point of Rocks and Chafin's Farm illustrate not only the constricting stagnation of the siege effort during the winter of 1864-65, but the gradually deteriorating morale of the Confederate forces, seen in a flood tide of deserters.

Finally, Pippitt's use of language is often as interesting as what he says. His use of phrases such as "dead beat" (24:45), "helter skelter" (24:66), "if he don't like it, he can lump it" (24:37), or "let [the landlord] know that you haint a going to be shit on by him" (24:38) seem thoroughly up to date, and are an excellent record of urban, working-class patterns of speech.

This collection is a series of letters written by Sidney O. Little during his service as a private in Company B of the 118th Illinois Infantry. Little and his company fought in the Vicksburg Campaign.

In many respects, Sidney Little's correspondence from the Civil War reflects the attitudes and experiences of many soldiers from western states who saw hard service in the Mississippi Valley, but trudged through, and who remained unionists despite a deep antipathy toward the question of slavery. Little's disdain for African Americans, and his lack of concern for their welfare or for the institution of chattel slavery make him -- however unfortunately -- an unremarkable example of a Union soldier, simply because of the commonness of his opinions, but his ability to articulate these opinions and his observational powers truly set him apart.

During the Vicksburg Campaign, in particular, Little's descriptions of the southern countryside and its inhabitants can be outstanding, and many of his letters are larded with little vignettes on the recalcitrance of the southern resistance, the fears of southern women, or the all too brief account of seeing planters scatter when the Yankees come, taking their best slaves, "except the old ones that are not worth anything," and except for the resourceful ones who take flat boats out into the swamp, remaining there until the planters are gone (1863 April 14). This somewhat respectful description of resourceful self-liberation by slaves carried little weight in Little's opinions of African Americans, nor did his keen interest in the strategies that southern women used to cope with the chaos of war time translate into respect for women. His letters include several worthwhile discussions of the conditions under which the citizens of Louisiana and Tennessee, and particularly women.

The Little letters contain interesting accounts of a small number of engagements, all during the Vicksburg Campaign. His description of the rather minor role of the 118th Illinois at Chickasaw Bluffs supplements three excellent accounts of Arkansas Post (reported separately to his brother, sisters, and mother), and some very fine accounts of small maneuvers west of Vicksburg in March and April, 1863. His account of the capture of Vicksburg and the state of the city upon occupation is engrossing, though probably based upon second-hand sources, since he was hospitalized at Milliken's Bend at the time. Finally, Little's letters from June through December, 1863, provide a somewhat sketchy account of his experiences in hospital, highlighted by his personal cure for diarrhea -- pickled pigs' feet.

Typescripts are available for all letters in the collection. From the pagination of these, it is apparent that not all of Little's letters have survived in this collection, but the location of the others is unknown.

Thomas Hughes was a lieutenant in the 28th Iowa Infantry Regiment. He served in Arkansas, Texas, and Louisiana and participated in both the Vicksburg Campaign and the Red River Campaign. The eleven letters in this collection describe the harsh living conditions Hughes faced as soldier.

The eleven letters in this collection describe the harsh living conditions Hughes faced as soldier. Ten of the letters are addressed to Hughes's wife. An account of an artillery barrage during the siege of Vicksburg and his account of his participation and capture in the Battle of Mansfield are noteworthy.

The collection also includes two photographs.

The typescript of William Putney's history of Battery I, 2nd Illinois Artillery Regiment, bound and stamped in gold with the title, was presented to the captain of the battery, Charles M. Barnett, as a Christmas gift in 1897. Putney was only the final editor and compiler of the history, which was based on the recollections, letters, and diaries of a number of men in the regiment, with snippets culled from sources as diverse as Sherman's memoirs, reminiscences from soldiers in other regiments, and popular histories.

The typescript of William Putney's history of Battery I, 2nd Illinois Artillery Regiment, bound and stamped in gold with the title, was presented to the captain of the battery, Charles M. Barnett, as a Christmas gift in 1897. Putney was only the final editor and compiler of the history, which was based on the recollections, letters, and diaries of a number of men in the regiment, with snippets culled from sources as diverse as Sherman's memoirs, reminiscences from soldiers in other regiments, and popular histories. The full, and rather complex history of authorship of the volume is discussed in his preface.

In many ways, Putney's narrative is characteristic of the genre of post-war reminiscences, in its selectivity and its tendency to gloss over or reimagine certain events. It is not, however, as thoroughly sanitized as many memoirs, and presents some of the unpleasantries of military service and the war with a surprising freshness. Inclined toward a literary style, Putney balances small, humorous anecdotes, mostly personal in nature, with larger-scale perspectives on the campaigns and conflicts in which the Battery was embroiled. The intrusion of narratives drawn from high ranking officers (such as Gen. Sherman) provides some insight into the average soldier's post-war opinions on what was significant about their experience, but it is the recollections of the minutiae of service, the practical jokes played by soldiers, their everyday coping, that makes Putney's memoir so valuable.

The History of Battery I includes a roster of the battery, with brief notes on the post-war activities of each member. The manuscript maps are probably copies of some printed works rather than recreations from memory. They depict 1) Route of Battery I from 1862 to 1865; 2) military and naval operations about Island No. 10; 3) the last day of the battle of Chickamauga and the route of Battery I; 4) Chattanooga Campaign; 5) the Atlanta Campaign.

The William S. Burns papers consist of correspondence and a scrapbook that document Burns' time as a well-connected Union officer during the Civil War.

The collection includes a series of 57 letters and documents written by Burns to his brother, Charles, plus a scrapbook assembled for his son, Ned, in December, 1886. The scrapbook includes a mounted albumen photographic portrait of Burns, and consists of a series of articles written by Burns for a newspaper. These articles include excerpts of his war-time letters (some included in the collection), but are more fleshed out, including more anecdotes and information than the surviving correspondence. They appear to be very faithful accounts of his experiences, based on first-hand notes. Among the better accounts in the scrapbook are lengthy descriptions of the Battles of Pea Ridge and Pleasant Hill, a good narrative of the Meridian and Red River Campaigns. For Pleasant Hill and the Red River Campaign in general, Burns comments extensively on the course of the battle and where blame for the defeat should lie, suggesting that despite the best efforts of Smith, Banks lost the day.

Strongly committed to the Union cause, but not an abolitionist, Burns had the unusual benefit of high level connections that allowed him to negotiate fairly effectively for military appointments that suited his tastes and abilities. Burns appears to have been very highly regarded by his superior officers and his subordinates, and maintained very high standards that led him to be a harsh critic of the military inefficiency of several "political generals," particularly Samuel Curtis and Nathaniel Banks. His high standards did not preclude foraging (stealing) food from civilians, though he was repulsed - not to the point of taking disciplinary action - at the summary execution of guerrillas and at being ordered by A.J. Smith to burn the residence of Jacob Thompson, Secretary of the Interior during the Buchanan administration, in retaliation for offences committed by Lee's army in Virginia. Burns was not keen to set fire to Thompson's house, but after allowing the removal of personal and family items, he followed orders.

Burns seems either to have loved or hated his commanding officers, and was as fixated on them as he was critical. He comments extensively on the performance of Union generals under whom he served, reserving his highest praise for A.J. Smith and Sherman, a sort of bemused appreciation of Asboth, and scorn for any who crossed them.