Miller, William J. "Dear Mother, Since I Last Wrote to You We Have Made the Fur Fly....Letters Home From the Bucktails ."  Civil War Regiments Vol. 1, Number 3

Edited by William J. Miller[1]

Richmond, Va., July 6, 1862[2]
Dear Friends at home:
I am now a prisoner in Richmond, Lieut. Truman,[3] myself, and part of our company were taken at half past four, Friday, (June 28) Capt. Niles[4] and the rest of the company, (except the wagon guard, sick and a few others) were taken in the forenoon of the same day. Lieut. Truman and myself got into Richmond at half past eight the same night; Capt. did not come in until the next day; we had two men wounded; Chas. Vallance,[5] of Covington, had his arm broke with a musket ball, Peter Rothweiler,[6] of Lancaster city was wounded in the face. We are all well, and treated very kindly. Caleb Fenton and J.V. Morgan are in the same building with Capt. Niles, Truman, and myself. Enclosed I send you the names of those of our company who are now prisoners here.[7]
From your affectionate Son and Brother,
Lieut. S. A. Mack[8]

Centerville. Monday, Sept. 1, 1862 [9]
Dear Uncle:
      I had rather it were someone's task than mine, to write to you on the present occasion, but I feel it is my duty, and however painful the task, I must perform it. But what word can I find, to break to a bereaved family, the news of the death of a son. Yes, poor Roe is gone. He was shot through the breast on the 29th while we were charging on the skirmishers of the enemy. He was immediately taken back and carried to the hospital. I went to him as soon as I came off the field. He was in considerable pain, but said that he was going to get well. I did all I could for him, but our regiment went into action again, and I left him to go with it, to revenge him. I left Robert Kinnear[10] (who was at the hospital sick) with him and he said he would stay with him. We did not come off the field until about 9 o'clock at night, and I had no chance to see him, but the next morning, before daylight, I went to the hospital and found that he was dead. He died that night about one o'clock. Robert Kinnear was with him when he died. We started to dig a grave, but the doctor took all the men that he could find to carry off the wounded who were there, as the rebels were expected in there every moment, but I would not leave him, even at the risk of being taken prisoner again. So I finished the grave alone, and buried him as well as I could. I placed a board at its head with the following inscription, written with a lead pencil: "Sergeant R.A. Hall, Co. D., Ist Rifles, P.R.V.C., died Aug. 30th, 1862." The man who lives there is "Conrad," and he promised me he would see that no one disturbed the grave, or the head board. It is in sight of the old "Bull Run Battle Field," and if I get killed and you want to find it, Charley Masten[11] or Robert Kinnear can show you the place, if you should ever want to find it.[12]
        No one killed in our company but him, although some were wounded, but no Warren boys. We have been in two fights since then, and have been on the move all the time, with scarcely any sleep. Our regiment has just come in from picket duty and as soon as I send this, I will try and get a little sleep.
From your Nephew,
Robert Hall[13]

Camp Ist Rifles, Apr 29 [1863]
Dearest Pearants [14]
       I received a letter from you and Amy to day. It gave me the greatest of pleasure. I was very glad to hear from you but I was sorrow to hear that you pap was so aling in your lungs.
        I am well and harty. I belive I could eat ten or twelve morinoes taters if I could get them. I way one hundred and seventy five pounds. 175 lbs and on picket every 2nd or 3rd day and night rain or shine. That is what makes us grow so.
        I got 4 munths pay to day. You can see by Johns and Nancys letters.
        The camp guard fires off there guns every morning at a mark and the one that makes the best shot gets a preamem of 50 cents. I have been on guard twice since that has been the order and I got the half dollar both times. We shot 250 yards then but we shoot 300 yards now. Both my shots would hit a deers head. I shot one day at a mark on a tree 200 steps or yards and hit over the senter about half of an inch. I belive I can hit a doers head 200 yards every time if I could guess the rite distent. Well I will close this. Rite soon.
Your affectionate sun
Cordello Collins
To John and Dolly Collins
Send me some stamps[15]

Camp of the I st Penn'a Rifles [16]
Near Boonsborough, Md.
July 9, 1863
Dear Mother,
Since last I wrote to you we have made the fur fly. This is the first rest we have had for 15 days. We fought three days - the 2nd, and 3rd and skirmishing on the 4th. We marched from Fairfax Station to Gettysburg in 7 days and 2 nights. We are to rest here and start again at 3 o'clock in the morning. Our company lost Lieut Robt. Hall, killed, shot in the head; Collins, of Kinzua shot in the leg, since died; Runyan, shot in the breast; Devins, shot in the foot. Chase is missing, a prisoner, I think. I was not in the first day's fight; was foot sore and the surgeon gave me a pass to fall out and come up at leisure; was up and in the rest of the fight.
        We are now three miles north of South Mountain battleground and 6 miles from Antietam. The old Army of the Potomac is pretty sore footed; but everything is moving and the goose hangs high. The Ist Brigade P.R.V.C., General Meade says, saved the army from being routed. Col. Taylor, of our regiment, was killed; Lieut. Col. Niles, wounded. Out of 327 men in the regiment we lost 69 rank and file.
        I will have to give this to a citizen and don't know when you will get it. We had one mail captured.
   Love to all.
    Your son,
    J.H.M. [17]

 This short newspaper piece appeared in the June 19, 1861, "Warren Ledger" (#'Warren, Pennsylvania, home to many of the men in company D of the Bucktails. The piece is of interest because it shows that the Bucktails had already assumed the stature of folk heroes. To the people at home, the strong, hardy young men with the deer tails on their caps were larger than life champions even be,fore the y fired their first shot in battle. Much of what is stated as .fact is questionable, but, as in all tall tales, there are threads of truth running through the story. Where the truth ends and the legend begins, however is difficult  to tell. The article is unsigned but was probably written by the editor

The "Wild Cat" Regiment
      The regiment of lumbermen now in camp at Harrisburg, must be "some persimmons," if one half of what is reported of them be true. Their skill with a rifle is a touch above extra. The entire lives of the men are spent in the pineries of Potter[18] and Elk counties, except when they are engaged in rafting, and their only pastime is with the rifle, which brings the smallest as well as the largest game to their feet. The use of small shot they consider unworthy the skill of a hunter. They bring down a squirrel from the top of a pine so lofty that the game is scarcely visible to ordinary eye sight. The men, in their daily work of cutting timber, receive more or less axe wounds, and for this reason several of them were rejected on inspection. They grumbled immensely at their rejection, and determined to fight, and for this purpose are seeking admission to other regi­ments. One man who was rejected lost his temper, and offered to bet the inspector that he would walk fifty miles without complaining of weariness, and not eat or drink anything until the work is accomplished. More than this he offered to double the first wager, that he could pierce the eye of Jeff Davis, or any other traitor, with his rifle, at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards. The inspecting officer was so impressed by the man's remonstrance against rejec­tion, that he declined the bet and ordered him to fall back into the ranks. Five of the rejected men exhibited their skill with a rifle at Philadelphia by knocking a five cent piece from a split [rail?] at the distance of one hundred and fifty yards. The "Wild Cat" Regiment, if composed of such fellows, is evidently a "big thing."