Submitted by Steve Bailey; vetted and edited by Cheri Todd Molter
The following is a transcription from an article entitled “War Time Letters,” which was published in The Messenger and Intelligencer on Thursday, May 19, 1898.
“We are pleased to offer to our readers, especially the elderly ones, who recall the persons and facts therein mentioned, the preface, written by Judge Bennett, to certain letters, and the letters, which speak for themselves. The preface and letters follow:
We print underneath two letters from Captain Eli Freeman of Company C, 14th Regiment, North Carolina Troops, which were fetched to us by our townsman, Daniel L. Saylor, who found them among his papers, some of them taken over from Edmund Hutchinson, who will be remembered as a very skilled cabinet maker, resident here with a business connection as partner of Daniel McIver, away back in the early forties.
Eli Freeman was born in Ohio and came here about 1855 or 1856, under the auspices of John Ruscoe, then engaged in building buggies and carriages. John Ruscoe was in the same business as Bain at one time. Their old vehicles are now and then seen here among old-fashioned people.
Mr. Freeman was a very skilled workman. He was unusually handsome as a man. His complexion was perfect. His locks were raven black and carefully tended. His person was very fair to look on. He married a daughter of John Q. McPherson, who lived on the site now occupied by the dwelling house of Thos. J. Ingram. She died early, leaving an infant, John, who was taken up by Mrs. Hutchinson and brought up in her home sometime.
Mr. Freeman was elected Captain of the Anson Guards in 1862 and continued to command the company until his death, May 30, 1864, at Bethesda church. He was the handsomest man in death I ever saw.
Here are the letters:
Camp 14th NC Troops – April 5, 1863 — My Dear Friend, It is a long time since I have heard from you, and today being Sunday and a disagreeable snowy day, I have concluded to write you a few lines. My health is not good, but much better than it has been. I have been sick for some time, but not sick enough to render me entirely fit for duty. The regiment is at Bowling Green, 18 miles from here, on provost duty. I am in command of the camp and am terribly tired of having nothing to do. About 130 men are here, being on the sick list, and I have them all to attend to. Being in bad health myself, I find it very disagreeable. The ground is covered with snow, and it is still coming down. Yesterday was a beautiful spring day, but the weather turned cold and today is a severe winter day. Hooker will be obliged to postpone his attack until fair weather again sets in. That is if he intends to attack us at all. I do not believe we will fight at this place again, but it is only my opinion. Our army is ready for any emergency, and no one doubts our complete success. Come when it will the struggle must be sanguine and we must whip the enemy. We all anticipate a severe spring campaign, but still a brilliant and victorious one. Nobody in the army looks for peace until the spring and summer campaigns are over, and should we be successful, some look for a termination of the war.
For myself, I have ceased to speculate, and never allow myself to hope, for my calculations have failed so often that I have determined to look at events as things present, and never think of things beyond, nor calculate on final issues. It is perfectly impossible for any mortal to form a correct idea of the probabilities of war. The safest plan is to be ready for anything and indulge no fanciful hope for peace on any grounds but the issue of battle. That is our only hope, and I am glad that the army so consider it. Men have hoped too long for ‘something to turn up.’ Like the sod at Sir John Moore’s grave, [things] must be turned with the bayonet. Let us all trust in God and do our duty in the field and success will finally be our reward.
I have no news to write, and you must excuse this short letter. Whose fault is it that our correspondence had stopped? Did you or I write the last letter? I may be mistaken, but I think I wrote last. Be that as it may, no reason exists why it ever stopped at all, for I trust you have not entirely forgotten ‘Free,’ and I assure you I still remember my friend Ned. Forgetfulness on my part would be worse than heathenism. For Johnny owes his life to his Mamma Betsy and he is my only earthly comfort. When I cease to remember her kindness to Henry and Johnny, may my reason leave me and my only comfort cease to be a source of joy. When ingratitude becomes a virtue, and human sensibilities fail to arouse grateful memory, then I might forget what I owe to you and yours. May the great Giver to all mercies deal kindly with your household and visit you with continual blessings.
Remember me to all my friends. Give my especial regards to Mrs. Hutchinson and children. Write as soon as you get this. Your sincere friend, Captain Eli Freeman
Camp – 14TH NC Troops, May 11th, 1863 — My Dear Friend, as my time is greatly limited this morning, I cannot write you much of a letter. But not knowing when I will get a chance to write to you again, I will spare you a few moments I have now in writing to you. Since I last wrote to you, we have been called upon to pass through fire and blood. The great battle of Chancellorsville has been fought, and it has pleased the Almighty to bring me out safe. I was taken very sick Saturday night and was unable to be on the field Sunday. That day the principal battle was fought. I regret to tell you of the death of Fred Buchanan and Sterling Smith of my company. Another one of them I fear will die of his wounds. You will hear the details of the battle before this reaches you.
The Confederacy has lost one of its most able generals. Stonewall Jackson is no more. The army loved him almost to idolatry. I believe he was taken away to teach us not to depend upon the ‘arm of flesh.’ We were too much inclined to give the glory to Jackson for our victories and forget that God was the ‘Great Giver.’ Let the nation turn to him for help, and trust Him to fill the great vacancy, and teach us the great lessons of humility and dependence. I feel like imploring the help of Almighty God; and I think the army and nation have been smitten sorely enough to induce us all to turn to him in our distress, and earnestly pray for deliverance and counsel. It is highly gratifying me to know that you remember me in your devotions. Continue to so remember me.
I wish my time was not so limited. I would like to write you a long letter, but you must not follow my example, for you have more time than I do. Give my love to Mrs. Hutchinson and the children. Write immediately. Your sincere friend, Captain Eli Freeman”
Source: “War Time Letters” From Page 3 of The Messenger and Intelligencer (Wadesboro NC), Thursday, May 19, 1898 [photo of article attached]