Item No. 8275429

This wonderful archive includes ten letters written by Lieutenant Wilson Bruyn of the 1st New York Engineers and the U.S. Signal Corps between December 1861 and December 1864. The letters were written from several of Bruyn’s posts including Hilton Head, Fort Pulaski, Botany Bay Island, and Bermuda Hundred. They cover a fascinating array of topics relating to Bruyn’s service with the Engineer Regiment and as commander of various signal posts. Among the fascinating topics discussed are an expedition to clear river obstructions, the Battle of Port Royal Ferry, opinions on Navy officers, failures of the campaigns against Charleston, the Battle of Wassaw Sound, rants about General Benjamin F. Butler, Lincoln and the 1864 Presidential Election, and a close call during a naval engagement on the James River.

The letters are in excellent condition. They each measure from 5” x 8” to 8” x 10”. Light foxing and toning throughout. They are creased at their original mailing folds.

On December 14, 1861, Bruyn’s company left New York aboard ship, bound for the South Carolina coast where it would join the other companies of the 1st Engineers already organized. His first letter was written to his father on December 23. In it Bruyn writes that the steamer Vanderbilt had landed them on Hilton Head Island:

Most of the troops in this state are in this immediate vicinity. We are on an island some 5 miles across. Beyond I am told is the enemy. Our regt are most of them employed at throwing up fortifications, hauling logs, building bridges, &c. I have not been assigned to any duty yet. Don’t know hardly what I am fit or good for.

Of the prospects for a battle Bruyn writes, “there has been no fighting in this vicinity that I can hear of. I should not wonder if there was before long, and some of the companies of our regt were in the fight. The next fighting I guess will be around ‘Tybee.’” He then reassures his father that “not one of the men have died since they have been here.”

“There being no wharves or docks here yet,” Bruyn writes how the during their landing “the men had to wade, the water being up to their thighs,” and how one of the men “carried me on his shoulders.” Their baggage was brought ashore “after the tide went down,” including a chest Bruyn and his fellow officers had purchased “containing all kinds of cooking utensils.” He adds that he had even brought a servant “who is a tolerable cook.”

Wishing the family a Happy New Year, Bruyn closes adding “if you have anything you wish to send me, there are two companies of our reg’t coming on from Staten Island in about two weeks.”

The second letter in the archive was written a couple of weeks later on January 4, 1862. Still at Hilton Head, Bruyn opens the letter with regrets at having not it in the mail before the steamer departed, “but a few minutes ago I came upon a gentlemen who goes in the steamer and who will not go aboard till tomorrow morning. By him I shall get you this letter.” Of the activities of the 1st Engineers, Bruyn writes:

Previous to Thursday I had not been out of camp since my arrival here. Since then I have been detailed off with a gang of 120 men to the woods to haul logs to the river, to be rafted to where some of our officers and men are building a pier. You can fancy me with such a party. If you had hold of them Uncle Sam would get more work done. We are hauling some very fine logs, from 50 to 60 and 80 to 90 feet long, and nice ones they are too. They are pine, such as they make turpentine from. We haul them to the river by hand and rope. I have just received orders to go out to work tomorrow. Don’t like it at all. No necessity for working on Sunday at such work, and men will do as much in six days as seven.

Bruyn then describes some details about the New Years Day skirmish that took place at Port Royal Ferry, where a combined force of infantry supported by gunboats forced Confederates to abandon their defenses:

There was something of a fight near Beaufort on Wednesday. The 47 and 48 Regts [both New York], the latter Col. [James H.] Perry’s, were in the engagement. Col. Perry had no men killed and none seriously wounded. So you can tell any who have friends in the Regt they were not killed then or there. Our Regt on that day were under marching orders. We were drawn up in line of battle all ready to march twice during the day.

Near the close of the letter Bruyn writes that his company commander, Captain Joseph Walker “is going Monday or Tuesday up Broad River to remove some obstructions. He wants me to go with him. Don’t think much I will, as it is hazardous and entirely in the enemy’s country. It is some four or five miles from Fort Pulaski.”

While the prospect of Captain Walker’s expedition didn’t appeal to Bruyn at the time, he changed his mind before writing the third letter on January 15. This is one of the most fascinating letters in the collection. In it Bruyn writes that he “changed my mind and did go, partly by particular request of my captain and a desire to see more of the country.” He then describes the goal of this small but important operation (see map in photographs):

The expedition consisted of Major [Oliver T.] Beard of the 48 Regt, Col. Perry, Captain Walker, myself, and a detail of twenty-five men from our regiment. We had with us as a picket and reserve guard a captain and eighty men of one of the Connecticut regts. Our destination was the southern end of Daufuskie Island, and the object of the expedition was to remove some obstructions from an artificial river called “Walls Cut.” It is about 1/4 of a mile in length and from 75 to 100 ft in width. Depth of channel at high water from 12 to 20 ft. The river connects Sandy River with Wright River, and through it we can enter Savannah River without running the gauntlet of the guns of Fort Pulaski. It also will cut off all communication from the Fort with the rebels, causing it to be in a state of siege. It also gives us a chance or a better base of operations, to work on Savannah. The rebels left Daufuskie at the time of the bombardment of Hilton Head, but have made frequent incursions to it since. Our forces had not occupied the island previous to our arrival. We encamped and made our Headquarters at the house of a Mrs. Dunn. From out the front windows and off the front stoop, you look right at Fort Pulaski, distant about three miles. Savannah we could see with the naked eye dimly. With our glasses very plain. It was distant from us about 12 miles.

Being so close to the fort, Bruyn writes how the officers “never allowed our men in front of the house” and that “at night we kept doors and windows shut so as not to let out a steak of light.” The obstructions to be removed “consisted of thirty-two piles driven in five rows across the cut, and an old hulk scuttled and sunk, her bow on one bank and stern on the other.” To accomplish the work the engineers “had a saw rigged … for cutting the piles, and upon application it worked admirably.” Each pile was cut “in from 5 to 15 minutes, and close to the bottom,” and after several were removed “the current started the old hulk so that we removed it without much trouble.” Working at low tide the party completed its work over five days. “We had to be very quiet to escape detection,” Bruyn writes, “as we wish our gunboats to go through before the rebels find the obstructions are removed, as well as to avoid being captured ourselves.”

Bruyn indicates they “felt a little timid the first day,” neglecting to “throw out pickets around the cut till Friday night.” On Sunday morning, however:

just as we arrived at the cut we heard several shots fired. Soon the pickets reported a small boat coming down Wright River. We manned a boat and went to the end of the cut, and as they came by we shot out with our boat and nabbed it. In it are two men whom of course we made prisoners. They were duck shooting. Had four ducks and three double barrel shot guns. They were from Savannah and were two stout, athletic men, and good secessionists. One was a native of Massachusetts. The other of South Carolina. We brought them to [Hilton] Head with us. When we went to our work Friday evening we saw on the hulk where men had been through the day eating their grub. We began to think all was up with us, as we supposed it was rebels and we would be reported. On mentioning it Sunday to the prisoners they laughed and said they were there Friday afternoon, having been in that vicinity all day duck shooting. Said they could see people were at work there, and noticed and remarked among themselves that the channel was not entirely blockaded. They say they thought that it was their own men who were there to work. Had no idea that our folks would dare to come there.

In a remarkable piece of luck, the men said:

they went on to Savannah but did not think to speak of it and returned again Saturday afternoon. They say if the rebels had any idea we were there they would hoist us. On Friday they had some fifty ducks. They are very plenty. From our work during the day we could see the tops of the smoke pipes of the steamers running from Savannah to Pulaski, Savannah River being distant some 2 1/2 or 3 miles. We could hear the reveille beat at Fort Pulaski, and the enemy’s campfires were visible at night on the main land distant some four or five miles.

Bruyn expects that:

Whenever more troops are sent here we will march on to Savannah. We have as many here at present as we can feed, it being very troublesome to land stores. As soon as the long pier is finished we will be marching along. Our gunboats have not gone as yet into the Savannah River. Expect to hear very day of their moving. If they do not move soon some more obstructions will be placed in our way.

The expedition, though small, was one of the very first in the coastal operations against Savannah. While “Walls Cut” did allow gunboats to bypass Fort Pulaski, further Confederate defenses upriver and closer to the city prevented any serious Union incursions until W.T. Sherman approached Savannah from the direction of Atlanta in late 1864. Still, the coastal operations culminated in the siege of Fort Pulaski, which, under an impressive display of the power of rifled cannon, surrendered to federal forces in April 1862.

Bruyn closes this remarkable letter discussing the situation of the slaves on Daufuskie Island:

They give us considerable information and some of them are most valuable as pilots on the numerous tide water streams which abound here. They all of them say their masters told them some that the yankees would hang them. Others and most of them that they would be sent to Cuba and other places and traded off for sugar.

The next letter in the group was written more than a year later on June 13, 1863. We now find Bruyn stationed at Fort Pulaski on duty with the Signal Corps. In this special line of service Bruyn and his men would transmit and receive messages via flag signals. Writing to his mother, he indicates he “came here about ten days ago to relieve the Signal Officer in the Fort, he being under arrest,” but plans to “return to Hilton Head in a day or two.” Squire Pope Carriage House had been his quarters at Hilton Head, and he writes he “does not expect to be stationed at Pope’s any more” because “another Signal Officer is there with his wife,” no doubt enjoying the “nice lot of vegetables in my garden.” “I was there seven months,” he laments, though “it did not seem so long.” Adding to Bruyn’s uneasiness—“The telegraph is working now so there’s not much for us to do.” The telegraph, which transmitted messages over wires, held several advantages over the flag method of signaling, chief among them that the telegraph didn’t require line-of-sight to transmit a message over distance, while flag signals may require the message be transmitted and received visually by line-of-sight over multiple signal stations.

Bruyn describes life within Fort Pulaski:

The Fort being on a small island, we have but little chance for exercise. No riding and no hunting now. In the fall and winter there’s plenty of duck. We play ball most every afternoon, and an amateur theatrical company give performances two or three evenings each week. I have a rather pleasant quarters and mess with some Rhode Island officers.

Some small excitement occurred when “Five deserters from Savannah came here day before yesterday. They brought no encouraging news for our side. Were well enough clothed, but not all alike. Had plenty of money.” Bruyn adds, “this morning a contraband came in.” He also discusses “a number of important changes in this department,” noting that General David Hunter and Admiral Samuel DuPont “are going north.” DuPont had earned a reputation as overly cautious when operations against Charleston had failed in April 1863. “DuPont never was much nor never will be,” Bruyn writes, adding that he is “pleased to hear that Admiral Foote is coming here.” Alas, Admiral Andrew H. Foote—the recent hero who had commanded Navy forces in cooperation with General Ulysses S. Grant at Fort Henry and Fort Donelson, and with Pope at Island No. 10—died June 26 while on his way to take command of the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron. Admiral John A. Dahlgren would take command that July.

He closes the letter remarking that Colonel Edward Serrell of the 1st New York Engineers “returned from the north about two weeks ago. He and the Major were out to Pope’s to dine with me one day. The Colonel has been in New York since last October.”

Letter number five was written a week later on June 20, 1863. Bruyn has now returned to Hilton Head, although only for a short time:

You see I am on the move. I came here from Fort Pulaski yesterday and shall go to Edisto Island this evening or tomorrow. From there I expect to go to Folly Island. From all appearances we are going again to try to take Charleston. Troops are moving in that direction. Something is going to be done somewhere sure. I am to report to Genl. Stevenson for signal duty, which places me on his staff. You will probably recollect I was on Edisto Island last year for about ten days on our way to Charleston. I am not at all sorry to be on the move. It is more expensive than being on a station in the country, but we can not end this war by setting on our ——.

Indeed, the Yankees were again moving against Charleston. Union forces under General Quincy A. Gillmore were beginning moves that would result in the costly assaults in July against Fort Wagner, as well as the battering of Confederate-held Fort Sumter. The siege would continue into 1864, but the Confederates would continue to hold Charleston until, like Savannah, W.T. Sherman approached in early 1865.

In this letter Bruyn also discusses witnessing the June 17 Battle of Wassaw Sound, in which the Confederate ironclad ram Atlanta attempted to run the blockade, but ran aground and surrendered under fire from Union Navy monitors Weehawken and Nahant. Bruyn writes:

You will have heard fo the capture of the iron-clad rebel ram “Atlanta.” I was fortunate enough to be a witness of the fight and half an hour after it was over I was on board of her. The fight took place about seven miles from Fort Pulaski and I could see it very plain with my telescope and immediately when it was over we went down there in a steamer boat. It took place in Wassaw Sound. You will get full particulars in the papers. I will say that the Officers and men on board the rebel ram were nearly all of them drunk. I saw it with my own eyes and it is true. The steamboat on which I was brought away the wounded. She is the vessel to build which the ladies of Savannah sold their jewelry and had all kinds of entertainments to raise funds. A steamboat loaded with ladies and gentlemen came from Savannah to witness the fight, so sure were they of victory.

Atlanta was salvaged by the Union Navy and limped to Port Royal under its own power. Rearmed and refitted, she was recommissioned under the same name in early 1864 and, joining the North Atlantic Blockading Squadron, participated in operations against Richmond on the James River.

Bruyn concludes this letter with regimental news about the 1st Engineers: “Our Regiment is to be consolidated and the superfluous officers mustered out the service. Whether I will go out or not can not tell yet.”

In the sixth letter, written November 20, 1863, Bruyn expresses how, as a signal officer, he frequently changes stations. It was written from Botany Bay Island on the North Edisto River, which to Bruyn felt isolated:

Well you see I have again changed my location. I am at one of the stations on the line to Hilton Head from Morris Island. This is a small, desolate island at the mouth of the North Edisto River. This is the third time I have been camped in this vicinity, and on this river. Was on Edisto Island in May of last year when we made our advance on Charleston. July of this year was on Seabrook Island directly across the river from where I am now. We got here last Saturday night. I stayed on the gunboat Paul Jones and did not get on shore till Sunday morning. Since then I have been trying to open communication with the other stations, but without any success.

The nature of Bruyn’s signal work required that engineers build tall wooden towers at various points, upon which the signalmen would conduct their work within visual range of other signal stations. Bruyn writes:

the carpenters are busy building the station higher. It is now one hundred and twenty-five feet, and fifteen feet more are to be added. It is thirty feet at the base, so you can imagine it is not very firm toward the peak. For my part I don’t like much to work from the top of such a structure. As I said this is a small island along the beach, and there is some danger of our being captured. One hundred and forty colored troops are here for a picket and fatigue duty. The gunboat Paul Jones lies a short distance from the shore blockading the entrance to the river. After the station is finished the troops are to be taken away and we must look out for ourselves. We have managed to get plenty of lumber and have fixed up ourselves very comfortable quarters.

Fed up both with the failure to take Charleston as well as his own isolated situation, Bruyn continues:

Fort Sumter is not yet taken. Neither is Charleston. Nor will it be very soon, owing to the masterly inactivity of our gallant Admiral Dahlgren. An officer is with me on this station. He talks of sending north for his wife. Wish he would, but pity her if she comes. It will be so very lonesome. No boats come here but such as come to bring us supplies. The news we will get by signals, one thing to be thankful for. A boat is to come in tomorrow by which I expect some mail and shall send this off by her. Please send me lots of papers to read to pass away the time. If Father has a gun to send me would like to have it. There is gray squirrel and curlew on the island.

Near the close of the letter Bruyn expresses his wish for photographs of friends and family: “I am looking anxiously for your and Father’s, and John’s Carte de visite. Am I not worthy of having one?”

The next letter finds Bruyn aboard the steamer Northern Light in the York River on April 21, 1864. “You are surprised, no doubt, to hear from me from this place,” he writes to his mother, “and I can hardly realize myself that I am here.” With Charleston still in Confederate hands, and with General Grant coming east to take the field in Virginia, Gillmore’s 10th Corps was transferred north to reinforce efforts there. Bruyn writes:

Only last Friday afternoon, while quietly seated in my room at the mouth St. Johns River, I received orders to report immediately at Jacksonville and did so same evening. Saturday forenoon started for Hilton Head, arriving there Sunday morning, where I received orders to join the 10th Army Corps, which is ordered to Virginia. As this steamer was to leave same evening it gave me but a short time to prepare… Brigadier Genl. Terry and staff and three regiments of infantry came up on this steamer. We were crowded, although this is a large steamer, and had a rather unpleasant passage. Was sea sick 24 hours of the time and they give us miserable food on board. General Gillmore and, as I said before, the 10th Army Corps are to reinforce this Department. I presume, of course, we are to try Richmond again. If we don’t get there this campaign I don’t believe we ever will.

Bruyn wrote the eight letter four days later, on April 25, from Gloucester Point. Having received a CDV of his father, Bruyn writes, “the photograph came safely and was pleased to have it, but can hardly think it a good one.” He adds his expectation that the next letter will include one with a “satisfactory likeness.” His main purpose in writing this letter, however, was to inquire about $100 he had sent to his father by express. He encourages his father to “write me immediately so that I can institute proceedings and recover the money from the Company.” Of the gathering of 10th Corps forces he writes, “Troops are arriving here every day. All are not here yet from the ‘Department of the South,’ nor has General Gillmore yet arrived. Gloucester Point is on the opposite side of the York River from Yorktown. We are getting ready as fast as possible for a move up.”

The “move up” was coming indeed. Bruyn wrote the ninth letter on June 24, 1864, only days after the Army of the Potomac had crossed to the south bank of the James River and begun attacks against Petersburg. Like the previous letter about the “Walls Cut” expedition, this is one of the more fascinating letters of the group. Bruyn writes from a signal station on the south bank near the Bermuda Hundred lines. Again he is displeased by photographs he has received—“Not a first rate one I don’t think. Don’t like the position.” Responding to a comment in a letter from his mother about there being “a great many worthless men in the Army,” Bruyn responds:

Well I guess everyone would think so could they be near a battlefield during an action to see the sneaks, cowards, and stragglers, the meanest of all men on the earth. And sometimes you will find officers among them as badly scared and as big cowards as any of the rest. General Butler had one of the latter drummed in disgrace out of his command last week, and served him right. When we were fighting the Monday morning at Drewry’s Bluff he ran off the field and back inside the entrenchments, a distance of some five miles, and reported we were being all cut up.

Of news that a friend or relative named Levi had gone to Nova Scotia, Bruyn responds, “well he’ll escape the draft.” He continues with discussion of the coming presidential election:

The nomination of Lincoln & Johnson suits the Army all to pieces. If all the soldiers could vote he would be elected by an immense majority. They very much wished to have Lincoln renominated. You occasionally find a McClellan man, but there are not many of them. I say “God bless Abraham Lincoln” and may he be our next President.

According to Bruyn, though, Lincoln has a key flaw—his support for General Butler. As a member of General Gillmore’s staff, Bruyn would have bristled over the feud between Gillmore and his superior, Butler. Bruyn then begins a thorough rant on Gillmore’s removal, Butler’s failures at the Battle of Drewry’s Bluff, and the general’s personal character:

Only one thing have I against him [Lincoln] and that is his allowing General Butler to have the important command he has. He should not have command of an army in the field. And Butler relieved Gillmore of the command of the 10th Corps. Now the latter has been a soldier all his life & it was disgraceful to have ever been put under him. I never can, I never will like Butler as a Gen. He lost the battle of the 16th of May, which he ought not to have done. There is no use talking. He was expected to hold the line we had near Drewry’s Bluff, and it could have been done. His whole campaign has been a failure. Genl. Grant could have crossed the James River where he did just as well if we had never been here and Butler only delayed or destroyed the communication between Richmond & Petersburg for about five days. He was completely out-generalled. Beauregard shut him up on this Peninsula and built a line of works from 500 to 1500 yds in front of ours, and just as strong, and running from the James to the Appomattox Rivers. I will give you a little incident of mine with Mr. Butler. When we were near Drewry’s Bluff, myself & three more officers were setting around a table, drinking some coffee in a nice large house, and a man had just taken the cups &c off the table when in walked Mr. Butler. Of course we all rose up (& some of us undoubtedly blushed a little) & saluted him, when he looks at us with his squint eye and a smile on his face & said “I could have shoved the cards out of the way quicker than that” & walked out.

While frustrated at higher command, Bruyn attempts to look on the bright side and makes a prediction about the fall of Petersburg:

I, with you and with everyone hope that the war may soon be over, & the cause amicably settled as a majority of the northern people wish it, the honest ones of course. But I don’t think it will be this year. Some days ago, before or at the time Grant was crossing the James, I was despondent thinking our army had been handled more roughly than it has. Grant has now, after the battle before Petersburg, over a hundred thousand men for duty. That is an army strong enough to cope with Lee if he only would make a stand somewhere outside of strong lines of earthworks. Grant says Lee has given him no chance to fight him except he (Lee) was well entrenched & that has been the case since the opening of the campaign. And that is where the Rebels have made the negroes of more use than they have yet been to us unless they do more fighting in the future like last week. They have all their assailable points and city fortified so that they can fall back from one line of entrenchments to another. Petersburg will be ours in a few days, probably ere this reaches you & without very heavy loss.

Of course he couldn’t have been more wrong. The attacks on Petersburg would grind into a siege that would go on for ten months, not breaking until the final days of the war the following spring.

In this same remarkable June 24 letter, Bruyn writes about “the appearance of the Rebel ironclads last Sunday” and their reappearance on Tuesday, June 21. Rebel ironclads of the James River Squadron bombarded federal monitors in the Trent’s Reach area of the river:

I send you a little scrap cut from the Herald concerning the appearance of the Rebel ironclads last Sunday. I saw them moving down the river and immediately signaled the fact to the Admiral and also directed the fire of one of the Monitors that pitched a few shot at them. But on Tuesday they came down again and we had a pretty lively time, accounts of which you will see in the papers. My station was pretty warm place, the shot and shell flying around lively. The Monitors lay in the river at the foot of my station and a battery on the shore by the side of it. Of course I was at the point of their fire and very busy signaling all day. Don’t think they fired any shot at the station till the last four they fired, which apparently were meant for mischief for myself, as they whistled by in close proximity to our heads. We were signaling all day & they could see us & kept the Navy informed of their every movement & it’s no wonder they finished up by saluting me.

He continues with his letter: “I had the pleasure of seeing President Lincoln here last Wednesday. He didn’t call on me. I think if we get in Richmond by the 1st of November we will do well. At any rate I will be satisfied.” Of politics and the prospect of another draft Bruyn writes:

I am very sorry to see that Congress holds on to the 300 dol commutation clause. We want men not money, and I wish the President would call into the field or draft 300,000 more men. He will have to do it soon. We can not finish the war with the troops now in the field. The newspapers think the commutation section should be retained, but no one in the army thinks so. More men will have to be called out. Why not now? & add them to the present force & we would take Richmond in 30 days & end the war this fall. If we wait till our army becomes weak, when the new men get into the field we will not have any larger than now.

With his commission in the Signal Corps awaiting Senate approval, Bruyn closes this truly remarkable letter discussing the possibility of his coming home:

I may be home before long. If my appointment is not confirmed before Congress adjourns, when it does adjourn I will be a civilian, unless reappointed. No signal officers have been confirmed yet. I understand they are now before the Senate and the question will be decided soon, as Congress must adjourn before a great while.

The tenth and final letter in the collection was written from Winchester, Virginia, on December 29, 1864. Poor Bruyn suffers from an ailment. He writes to his parents:

Am well and yet am not well. That itching troubles me considerable, but what is worse numbers of sores have broken out over me that maturate and won’t heal up and are on portions of my person where I had rather they wouldn’t be, as it’s uncomfortable sitting down. Something like salt rheum has broken out on my hands between my fingers and I’m decidedly uncomfortable generally, yet on duty. Am going to see some physician in a day or so. Something must be done. Neither do I sleep overly well nights. I think if Doctor Millspaugh had been, or was much of a physician, I would not have been in this condition today. Was under his care long enough to have got a new constitution. Guess you have enough on this subject.

Of his new post at Winchester Bruyn writes:

While I was to home a new chief signal officer came to this Department, a very good officer, only a little strict, which I guess won’t hurt us much. I have as much as I want to tend to on this station. Fourteen men, about 25 horses & mules, saddles, bridles, & other equipments, arms & ammunition, signal equipments and station duty to do. Just now am alone. An officer has been with me, and suppose another will be ordered to report here before long.

He closes the letter recounting a humorous incident about General Sheridan’s policy about women in camp:

A good many officers have had their wives here to spend the winter, when lo! General Sheridan the other day ordered them to leave and they have had to travel. The exodus commenced yesterday and will be over in a day or so. Ain’t the women mad though. I might get the best of him if I could marry a girl living here, but guess t’won’t pay to try it.

Lieutenant Wilson Bruyn remained with the U.S. Signal Corps through the remainder of the war. He was mustered out in August 1865.