This letter was written by Isaac Eaton Macomber (1827-1905), the son of Luther Crane Macomber (1800-1865) and Mary (“Polly”) Easton (1800-1864) of Middleborough, Plymouth county, Massachusetts. He wrote the letter to his wife, Celia Shaw (White) Macomber (1830-1908) with whom he married in May 1852. The couple had three children at the time of Isaac’s enlistment: George (1853-1872), Nellie (1857-1937) and Horace (1860-1931). Isaac’s occupation was shoemaker.
On 19 September 1862, Isaac enlisted as a corporal in Co. C, 4th Massachusetts Infantry. He mustered out of the regiment on 28 August 1863, having previously been wounded on 14 June 1863 in the fighting at Port Hudson, but survived to go home.
TRANSCRIPTION
Addressed to Mrs. I. E. Macomber, North Middleborough, Mass.
Postmarked New Orleans, Louisiana
Brashear City
Fort Buchanan
May 1st 1863
Dear Wife,
I have some spare time today and I will try to write you a few lines to let you know how I am getting along. I am well and in good spirits and hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessing. I have received your letter No. 33 and was very much pleased to hear from you once more. I found fifty cents in the letter. It came in the right time. I had got about out of tobacco. I bought 5 cents worth of butter, fifteen cents worth of honey, and the rest in tobacco. There has been times when I did not know how I was agoing to get along but there has been some way provided so that I have had tobacco most of the time. I expect that we shall be paid off today. A part of the regiment have been payed off and if we do, you need not send me anymore money nor paper for I can get it here unless I send for some.
We are having first rate times here at post. It is the best place that we have had yet and I think we shall stop here till we start for home and that will be before September. We are not agoing to stop here till September—at least I think we shall not. But if we do have to, I shall make the best of it. We have been paid off today so you need not send anymore money. I received fifty dollars and twenty cents. The allotment did not take effect till January and we were paid up to the first of March so the sum allotted to you is twenty dollars. I said that I received fifty dollars and twenty cents. You will get twenty dollars and that will be seventy—70.20.
The boys are in very good spirits this afternoon for they have got some money again. I shall send home what money I do not want the first good chance I have. I think that I shall send it by Express when I do. I will write and let you know. I shall keep what I want to use. I have got to pay two dollars that I owe. When I send, I will write to you so you may be looking for it.
I have not heard anything new today in regard to when our time is out but we all think that we shall get home or start for home as soon as the fourteenth of June and I think we shall so if anyone tells you that out time is not out till September, you may tell them that it is not so, for we know when our time is out as well as anyone else.
I will tell you what I am going to have for supper. One of the Battery boys caught some fish and gave me some. I cleaned them and salted them and tonight I am going to have them fried. Some of our boys have caught fish here that would weigh one hundred pounds. Andrew Osborn shot one that wold weigh that. They are called alligator gars. Their skin looks like an alligators. We had some for supper one night. It was good. My fish that I am going to have for supper are catfish. They are tip top.
I have been to supper and I feel first rate. I am sitting under our shelter tents with a candle on a dipper trying to write. We have got a fire in our tent to make a smoke to keep the mosquitoes out. It is no use for me to try to kill them. There is lots of them here. I never saw them so thick anywhere before. There is a great many of them that weigh a pound. You may think it a large story but it is true.
Banks has dine a big thing out here. He has drove the rebels to the wall. He met them on their ground and drove them one hundred and fifty miles and captured more cattle and horses and mules than I ever saw before. There was five thousand that came down in one day. At night, there is a great lowing of cattle and blatting of sheep. The army have captured an immense amount of stuff—sugar, molasses, cotton, cattle, horses, mules, sheep, and negroes on the last march. I saw a great deal of sugar and molasses that belonged to the rebs. Our army will take it all. The other day there was just one hundred baggage wagons with four mules to each wagon which made gour hundred mules. These mules were all captured from the rebs Saturday morning.
O. H. bought a chicken yesterday and told me that if I would get it cooked, I should have some so I got a colored man to cook it and we had it for breakfast this morning and it was good, I can tell you. We have bought a can of condensed milk this morning and had milk in our coffee this morning. It tasted like old times. I had some dried apples given me and I stewed them in my cup so you see that I live pretty well. The cattle are still coming down the river. There has been an immense number of cattle confiscated (by the way, I have confiscated a large coffee pot). I have heard some men say that Banks has taken propert enough to pay all the expenses of the Army of the Gulf. I do not know but it is true. I hope it is for that is the way to put down the rebellion. I hope hat our army will take everything that they can lay their hands on.
Afternoon. I do not know what to write but I will try to finish this letter today. I want you to keep a good lookout for the bees when they swarm. If you cannot do any better, you must get Elbridge Shaw to hive them and if I have not got hives enough, you must look up some or get some made. I do not think they would sting you if you should have them yourself. YOu must let Kate run in the room as soon as the grass starts. Levi has paid what he owed me. He and I are on quite good terms. I have eaten so much dinner that I cannot hardly get round but think that I shall feel better before supper.
I thought your Mother was going to write me a letter. I have been looking for one every mail that comes but have not got any yet. Perhaps I may get one the next mail, Hope I shall. Tell the children they must be good children and mind their mother. Tell Georgie that he must watch Kate till I get home. Has Nel lost her ring yet? She must keep it till I get home. I must close this letter for if I am much longer writing, it will be so dirty you cannot read it. You told me that I must not boil my shirt for if I did, it would spoil it. I have boiled it every time that I have washed it and I do not see but it is as good as new. Celia, will you think of me and remember me in your prayers to the throne of grace for there is where we must go in order that we may live happy in this life and may the Lord bless you and the children and keep you in the hollow of his hand.
— I. E. Macomber
Sunday afternoon, May 3rd
I have the privilege once more of writing to you. It is cloudy today and not a breath of air stirring. It is very warm. I think it is as warm here now as it is at home in July. I have taken off my undershirt and drawers and go barefooted most of the time. We have no Sabbath here. All days are alike in the army. What would I give if I could be at home today to go to meeting with you. It has been so long since I have been to meeting I do not know as I should know how to act but I would run the risk if I could get the chance.
I am very glad that you sent me your pictures. They are the best taken of any that I ever saw. I had them out today looking at them and Corp. Sweet came along and took up your picture and looked at it very earnestly for a moment. At last he exclaimed, I declare it looks as though she was going to speak. I wish I could hear you speak and I trust I shall. Since I got your photographs, I want to see you more than ever. They look so natural that it seems as though it had not been but a little while since I saw you but it has been four months and over since I left home. I hope and pray that it will not be four months more before I shall see you and my dear children. I did not think so much about seeing you when I was at home and could see you every day. I did not know what a privilege I had.
I want you to let me know if you get all my letters and how many you have got. Has William got any work yet? and how much does he get a day? How do you get along? Have you used up all the butter and the hams? I should like to have some of the ham & some of the butter, but I do not think I shall. But never mind. If my life is spared to come home sometime, whether it be sooner or later, I shall try to be reconciled to my fate and I know that I have your prayer and if we live near to God, He will keep us in the hollow of HIs hand. You must pray that I may be reconciled to His will, whatever His will may be. It seems to me that if I ever get home again, that I shall like to go to meeting. We have not had a meeting since we left Algiers about a month. It was the meeting that the Lieutenant-Colonel took the charge of. I wish we could have good meetings. I think that I should enjoy them. I know I should but it is no use of complaining. The time may come when we can worship God according to the dictate of our own conscience with none to molest or to make afraid. Celia, those times will be happy days so it becomes us to trust in the Savior and choose Him for our friend and then all will be well. I must close this letter for it is most night. Lots of kisses for you and the children.
From your husband, — I. E. M.
Spared & Shared 19 