Who was he? Read a remarkable Battle of Nashville letter

Howard Pyle's painting depicts Minnesota troops fighting near Shy's Hill during 
the Battle of Nashville. (Read more.)

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The letter below, published in the Vermont Phoenix on Jan. 13, 1865, comes from a 7th Minnesota soldier who signs himself simply as "Edward," writing from Cumberland Hospital in Nashville. He wastes no time easing his mother’s fears: Yes, he was wounded in the Battle of Nashville, but it was a minor head wound and he’s recovering well. He knows she will have already seen newspaper reports of the fighting and possibly casualty lists, and he gently prepars her for the hardest news of all — the death of his close friend and comrade, Fred H. Fessenden. 

Edward's letter appeared in the 
Vermont Phoenix of Brattleboro
 on Jan. 13, 1865.

Edward then launches into a vivid, boots-on-the-ground account of the battle. On Thursday, Dec. 15, 1864, his regiment advanced under heavy artillery fire and spent hours lying flat on their stomachs while shells screamed overhead. When the order finally came to charge, they surged forward and captured the Confederate works in minutes. In the chaos, Edward saw their brigade commander Sylvester Hill killed instantly, with Fred catching him as he fell during the attack at Redoubt No. 3, south of today's downtown Nashville. 

Even in victory, death was everywhere, and the fighting didn’t slow down. The next day was even worse. 

Early Friday morning, Edward and Fred lay near each other before the final assault near Shy's Hill, calmly eating hardtack and talking, unaware of how little time they had left. During the charge, Edward was struck in the head and knocked down. Within minutes, Fred — after hearing that Edward had been wounded — was shot in the temple and killed. 

Between personal moments, Edward paints an unforgettable picture of the battle itself: charging across open fields under devastating fire, lying exposed between opposing artillery batteries, watching enemy lines crumble and finally storming breastworks bristling with cannon firing grape and canister at close range. He admits he cannot understand how anyone survived that final charge, yet survive they did — capturing guns, prisoners and a decisive victory for the Union, though at enormous cost.

So, who was Edward and what became of him? And why did this letter appear in a Vermont newspaper? Five soldiers named Edward — their surnames were Camirand, Wright, Klappenbach, Lightbourne and Schuetz — served in Company H with Fred H. Fessenden, whose burial site is unknown. One of them probably is our letter writer.

I'm digging in.

U.S. hospital at University of Nashville | Library of Congress

A Soldier's Letter. Cumberland Hospital | NASHVILLE, TENN., Dec. 19th, 1864

You will doubtless be anxious to hear from me, for long before this reaches you, you will have heard of  this hard fought battle and glorious victory won near Nashville last Thursday and Friday and perhaps will see my name among wounded and the name of Fred H. Fessenden on the list of killed. To commence I will say I am slightly wounded in the head and am feeling very comfortable now, and if I do not get cold in my wound, I think I shall soon be able to return to my the regiment and to duty again.

About ten o'clock last Wednesday night we received orders to be up at four o'clock and ready to march at six o'clock in the morning and move upon the enemy's works.. We did so. But as I cannot write you a long letter now, I will send you this morning's paper which gives an account of our work. The correspondent must have been with the 4th corps most of the time I think, for he does not tell half what we (Gen. A. J. Smith's command) did.

Our regiment got into action about noon on Thursday, when we drove the rebs some two miles; then we saw they had two lines of breast-works with several cannons and a large force behind them. The artillery fire from both sides now was most rapid and deafening. Our infantry line of battle now double-quicked across an open field to the foot of the hill on which the rebel battery was planted and about 40 rods from their works. Here we lay down. flat on our stomachs two hours, while our batteries tried to shell the rebs out of their works. 

A wartime illustration depicts the Union attack on Redoubt No. 3 at Nashville and the moment
Col. Sylvester Hill (on horseback) was struck by Confederate fire. Below, Redoubt No. 3 today.

Rebels retreat like a 'flock of frightened sheep'

About 5 p.m. the order was given to fix bayonets and charge upon their works. With a shout and yell, we rushed up the hill, and in less than five minutes the works were ours. I cannot describe the scene that followed, as I scaled the walls of the rebel fort, Col. Hill commanding our brigade rode past me shouting to the men to cease firing and form a new line of battle. Just then a ball came whizzing over head and struck Col. Hill in the face, killing him instantly. Fred Fessenden caught him as he fell from his horse.

Colonel Sylvester Hill,
killed at Nashville.

I immediately informed Col. [William] Marshall of it. He said "Is that so ? then I have command of the brigade now." The excitement of the hour was so great that no one stopped to obey the order to cease firing but all rushed on and on, driving the rebs before us like a flock of frightened sheep, until we had captured the second and third line of breastworks with several cannon, and twelve hundred prisoners.

It was now night and darkness closed our work for that day. We formed three lines of battle and lay down on our arms in the rebel camp. We cooked our supper on the fire that the rebs built to get their supper by, and I slept on some straw that the rebs slept on the night before. About ten o'clock that night our regimental Postmaster brought us a mail. I received two letters which I was very glad to get, and it's the last mail I have received. 

Next morning about one hour before daylight we were routed up and marched about a mile where we lay in line of battle until 8 o'clock. While there we cooked our breakfast. At 8 o'clock the order to advance was given. We had to march through a thick lot of brush and then emerged into an open wheat field where the rebs had a full view of us, and they improved the time by opening upon us a hot and rapid fire of shot and shell. We double-quicked towards them across the wheat field and found they were intrenched behind a strong line of breastworks. We lay down in a ravine in a corn field about an hour, while our batteries which had got into position poured their shells upon the rebels. The firing from the batteries on both sides now was the most rapid and deafening I ever heard. [The] Tupelo [Miss.] battle I thought was dreadful. But that was small compared to this. 

'We had a full view of the rebel works'

We lay just about half way between the rebel batteries and our own; the shot and shell whizzed over us, sometimes bursting close to us, throwing the mud all over us, and now and then wounding some of us as we lay there hugging the ground. You can imagine it was anything but agreeable. I was glad when the order came to advance again. 

We marched a little to the right and then forward about forty rods on to a little rising ground and lay down behind a rail fence. Here we had a full view of the rebel works, which were not more than eighty rods in front of us. We lay flat on the ground behind the fence and watched the movements of the enemy and the effects of our shells as they burst behind their works and among the rebs. We could see the rebs as they massed their forces on our right and then on our left as occasion required.

Minnesota monument on Shy's Hill, from which the Confederates retreated "pell mell" 
on Dec. 16, 1864, according to letter writer Edward.

Once they sent a heavy force up a hill in front of our right, but less than half an hour we heard a tremendous volley of musketry firing and then a cheering, and very soon we saw our extreme right had flanked that force and they were rushing back down the hill pell mell, in the most demoralized condition. While we were lying behind the fence I indulged in considerable sharp shooting. We could see the rebel sharpshooters posted behind some trees firing at us every time any one raised a little from the ground, and I with several others of our company tried our best to drive them off or stop their work. One especially I fired at several times, and after the last charge was made he was found dead by the tree.

About four o'clock p. m. the order was given along the whole line to charge upon the breast-works. We all jumped up and with a yell and cheer we rushed towards them. Not till then did we think there was half as large a force of rebels there. Directly in front of our regiment the rebs had a battery of four guns which they had kept silent until the charge was made, and we had no idea they were there until they opened on us a most murdering fire of grape and cannister while thousands of muskets sent a tornado shower of bullets at our advancing columns, but it did not check the line in the least although I cannot imagine how it was possible for a single man to reach the breastworks alive. 

'How dearly we paid for it'

But in less than ten minutes our flag was upon their works, and our boys were behind their intrenchments; our regiment captured the four cannon that played upon me so fearfully, (with their old rage of treason and rebellion) and over a thousand prisoners. The works along the whole line were carried and the victory won. But how dearly we paid for it. The loss of killed and wounded will tell.

7th Minnesota battle flag

Just as we commenced the charge, I was struck on the left side of my head by a bullet, which knocked me down, stunning me for a few seconds. I soon rallied, however, and told my Lieut. I was wounded. He helped me to take off my haversack, canteen and rubber blanket. (It was raining hard at the time) and told me to crawl to the rear if I could, my head face and whiskers were covered with blood by that time. I crawled back a few rods and lay down where I was not so much exposed to the storm of lead that was pouring upon us. 

As I grew weak and faint from the loss of blood, I fell back a little further to a running brook where I could drink some water and bathe my wound. I lay there about an hour when two of my comrades came after me and helped me into a house which was near by, and about nine o'clock in the evening the surgeon got round to dress my wound. Over one hundred wounded were brought into that house that night. Soon after I was taken to the house my Lieut. came in and found me laying on a matress in the parlor. He said he got through without a scratch and 29 of our company with him, some five or six were missing and among that number was Fred. Fessenden, and he asked me if I had seen anything of him. I told him I had not. Soon afterwards one of our boys come in to tell me that Fred. was killed.

7th Minnesota soldier Fred Fessenden: 'Tell my friends I die trusting in God'

He said that when we had nearly reached the breastworks some of the boys told Fred that Ed was wounded. He asked if I was badly wounded, and they told him they thought I was. Just then a ball struck him in the temple and he sung out "Good bye" and fell dead upon the field. Soon after we left camp on Thursday morning and as we were forming in line of battle, Fred said to me, "Well, Edward, if I fall in the battle, tell my friends I die trusting in God." How little we knew that within 36 hours he would be called to be with his Saviour, whom he loved. He died about 4 o'clock Friday afternoon, Dec. 16th, 1864, and probably in less than five minutes after I was wounded. When I fell he was about six feet from me, but such was the excitement at that time he did not notice me. Just before the charge was ordered, we were lying down near each other eating our dinner of hardtack, and talking in the best of spirits.  

Fred. was a good soldier, ever ready to do his duty, and always in the front rank and at his post in time of danger. He could always be depended upon. He was recently offered a promotion, but declined to accept it, preferring to serve as a private the rest of his time. But now he is promoted to higher and more noble employment than earth can give, and although I shall miss him very much, I feel that what is my loss is his infinite gain.

General George Thomas

Fred's body, with all the others who were killed in our regiment, were brought to the house in which I lay, and were all laid out in a row in the front yard. By order of Gen. [George] Thomas they were to be taken to the cemetery in the city and buried; each grave will have a head board, with name, company and regiment upon it. As soon as I am able, I shall try to find his grave. 

I lay in the house near the battle-field until Sunday afternoon, when most all the wounded who could ride in hacks were taken to this hospital. As I rode out of the yard I saw the row of dead, and was told which was Fred's body. He had his overcoat on, and his cap lay on his face. The boys said he looked very natural. I wanted to go to it, but the hack could not get nearer than two or three rods. 

I would like to write considerable more, but must stop and write to Jennie. I wrote this lying on my back, as I must keep my head as quiet as possible. Now, mother, don't worry about me, for I am in one of the best hospitals in the country, and am doing as well as I can expect. May God sustain you in this sad hour, and bring us all at last to our Heavenly home, is the sincere prayer of your bereaved, sympathizing and affectionate son, EDWARD.