Calvin A. Haynes of East Nassau, NY at the age of 24 enlisted in August 1862 at Troy in the 125th New York Infantry Regiment. His letters home to his wife Lucy have been transcribed by John Minitti of Winchester, MA and are here reproduced, with some editing, courtesy of the New York State Library, Manuscripts and Special Collections.
Sept 18th 62
Fredericks Junction
Dear Wife
I suppose that you think that we are all dead but we are all alive and well. We have seen some rough things. We were taken prisoner at Harpers Ferry last Monday morning at 8 o’clock. They let us all off on parole. We may have a chance to come home and stay a few days but we cannot tell yet. I hope we can. If you could of seen the bomb shells fly around our heads you would have thought that we would have been killed. They fired on us from four directions. The shells fell around us like hair. Their was two men killed in the regiment one in Compnay A and one in Co F. I have lost all my clothes but what I had on my back.
I have written four letters to you since I left home. I suppose that you have not recieved any of them. I have not recieved any from you. We left Martinsburgh Friday morning last about 3 o’clock in the morning and marched to Hapers Ferry about 30 miles and arrived there before night, that was a good days work with a load on my back and nothing but hard tack to eat. We slept on the ground that night. The next morning we went on Picket guard in the woods and stayed there all night in the cold with out overcot or blanket. We got back at noon the next day and sit down to eat our dinner and the rebels fired into us with bomb shells and we run over into the hollow where they could not hit us. Then they formed us into line of battle and kept us there all night. The next morning they opened there batterys on us and we stood it about two hours and then surrendered. I never felt so bad in my life as I did when we raised the white flag. We could of whipped them out if we had not of had a traitor for a commander. Col. Miles he ordered us to surrender and just as the white flag was raised a shell hit him and kiled him. He confessed before he died that he sold us to the rebels. I am glad he is dead.
We marched up and stacked our arms and stayed until yesterday morning at 11 o’clock and then marched to Frederick City last night and laid in the field on the groun. It rained all night and the morning came here 3 miles from the city. My heels are all blistered but that is nothing. If we get achance to come home I will tell you all about it.
I supppose that you think this is rather nasty paper but is all that I have got. I know that you would be glad to hear from me even if it was nasty. You must be a good girl and take good care of little Ella. I save your Ambertypes out of my knapsack and my
rubber blanket. The rest is gone. You need not write to me until you hear from me again for we will not stay here a great while. I will write as often as I can.
From your Husband
– C A H
The New York 125th was deployed at the south end of the besieged town with their right flank along the Shenandoah River. Col. Dixon Miles, the area commander, had permitted the heights all around the town to be taken by elements of Lee’s army that was in the process of invading Maryland. The 125th would be bombarded with artillery fire from the Loudoun Heights across the Shenandoah on their left, from Stonewall Jackson’s cannons on Bolivar Heights to their right and rear and from Gen. McLaws’ artillery across the Potomac River to their rear. Still, some of the New York troops thought they could hold out until Gen. McClellan’s Union army, 84,000 strong, arrived to relieve the siege, but Miles insisted on raising the white flag. Some historians have speculated that he was killed by fire from his own troops. Over 12,000 Union soldiers surrendered and were placed under Parole. That meant they could not take up arms again until properly exchanged, each for an enemy captive of equal rank. Sometimes parolees could go home to await exchange. More often they had to wait in a Federal detention camp.
