Dear Brother George,
Your letter of the 10th inst. came to hand on the 13th and last evening I received the journal. I mailed to father's address a "chronical" containing General Sherman's official report of the "Atlanta Campaign" and a very able document it is and well worth reading. From it one can form a faint idea of the immense amount of mental as well as physical power necessary to carry on such a campaign to a brilliant and victorious termination. Don't fail to read it, George. I have a proposition to make which I hope may meet with your approval. My news bag is completely exhausted, as flat as if an elephant had put his foot upon it. So I propose to give you a brief note of my visit to Alexandria some three weeks since.
To a stranger visiting Washington it is no easy matter for him to obtain a pass over the Potomac. First he must obtain a recommendation from some well known loyal citizen after which he proceeds to the pass office where he is required to give his name, object for desiring a pass and the length of time desired after which he is obligated to sign his name to the "Oath of Allegiance" which is printed upon the back of each pass. This routine I am not obligated to go through, for being an employee of the Govt and on duty in the department. I am allowed a standing pass thro' the Dept of Washington, which includes Alexandria.
So I started at once for the "Steamboat Landing" when there I jumped aboard of a government boat and was soon gliding thro' the waters of the Potomac. It is but a short run to Alexandria and one is there before he is aware of it. Here we have to show passes to the guard after which we are permitted to land and go where we please. Since the Port of Alexandria has been opened the city has presented a very lively and businesslike appearance. The day that I was there her port was crowded with shipping, some arriving and others leaving for Northern cities. Directing my footsteps towards King Street I soon came in view of the Marshal House noted as the place where the young Col. Ellsworth fell by the hand of the Rebel proprietors. The house although well patronized bears an old and dingy look. The flag-staff which, since Ellsworth so gallantly tore down the Rebel Rag - is generally bare, was this day supporting the "Stars and Stripes."
Passing along we soon came to the Mason Mansion. This fine old house is a fair type of the residence of a wealthy Virginian. A wide hall in the centre opens into various rooms, while the front entrance is approached by passing through a pleasant courtyard. At the rear of the house is a spacious area paved with marble in diamond-shaped blocks. There is looking out from this back ground a fine, large garden supplied with fruit trees of many different varieties, the whole surrounded by a very thick brick wall. At one corner of this garden is the Family Tomb in which sleeps old Judge Mason who died just before the ______ was sounded for War. I believe he was a near relative of the present Rebel emissary at England. Judge Mason's widow is living in obscurity at Point of Rocks. Thus we see that a once happy home has been rendered desolate and the old spots once so dear are left open to the prying gaze of curious strangers. Most bitterly has the punishment due the transgressors fallen upon many a proud and once lordly estate.
The Alexandria Slave Pen is now used as a guard-house, a place of confinement of refractory and drunken soldiers. Here human souls were once bartered for and sold; husbands were separated from their wives, brothers from sister. Oh! What a grand change has been wrought since 1860. Then a stranger could have seen the trader driving his troop of human souls, then he could have heard the tap of the harness as it fell from the grasp of the slave auctioneer. Then he might have heard the wailings of infant children torn from the embrace of the slave mothers. Now the black man can enjoy life unmolested. The slave mothers can sing to and caress her children with the assurance that they will not be stolen from her never to be returned.
George, I am not a "nigger lover," nor do I wish to see them intermingle with the white race. But I do want to see them free. The traitorous minions of Geo. B. McClellan and the framers of the Chicago Peace Platform tell us that the war has been a failure. Even if our armies had not been victorious the good which has been done towards ridding this nation of the blackest of sins amply compensates for the life and treasure which has been expended. I believe it, I feel it from the bottom of my heart, and rather than that we should make peace with the South and allow slavery to exist I would rather see the nation share a similar fate as befell Sodom of old. Traitors need not tell me that the "contrabands" [former slaves] cannot support themselves. It is a base falsehood. Alexandria is a real city of refuge. Hither flock crowds of negro refugees from the South, runaway slaves who wish to taste and see how good freedom is. There are over 7000 contrabands in Alexandria at present and of all this number not more than 20 are supported by the government. The others are supporting themselves by honest employment. This is an item for those who howl about the prodigious expense that contrabands are to the U.S. Gov't and Treasury. Have not the South depended upon these same contrabands for their support? And if they are able to support themselves and master it is very evident that they can feed themselves without the expensive masters encumbrance. I firmly believe if Pendleton, Wood or Seymour should dive down into the heart of hearts of the bottomless pit he would find a black man who would be ashamed to associate with him.
But here I am fretting myself into a passion about politics when I intended to tell you about Alexandria! Well leaving the slave pen and its many disagreeable associations we proceed through the city until we reach the highlands where we can see the noble Potomac winding its serpentine course through the valleys of the "Old Dominion" and I tell you 'tis a grand scene. We can see the Capitol looming up in the distance like some stern, majestic spectre watching over the safety of the Union. We can also see the chain of fortifications protecting the city of Washington with their huge, wide mouthed guns ever ready to pour forth death to the traitorous fiends who are trying to sever this land which was intended by the Almighty as the footstool of Liberty and, as sure as there is an all wide God, this land is destined to be one of unalloyed Liberty, to be as a model of the powers of the Old World that they may see the error of their ways and do likewise.
George - you have seen a "bone yard" - please allow me to politely inform you that you have not. I will allow that the "Old Bone Man" on the canal towards Thompson's is some on a "dead hoss" but there is a "Bone Yard" near Alexandria that would cause "Old Bony" of Lodi to blush with shame at the insignificance of his establishment. Until quite recently the government has been paying $500,000 per annum for having their dead horses and mules carted off to a point near Poolesville and buried. But now there is a firm who pay the gov't $500,000 for the privilege of taking these dead horses and mules from the "corrals" to their shop on the Potomac just below Alexandria. This firm employs five barges and a steam tug in the transportation of the bodies. The bodies are cut up and placed in vats and steamed for several hours. Upon opening the vats the water is found to be covered with oil. This is skimmed off and barrelled and sent away to be used for lubricating purposes and also in the manufacture of soap. The long hair is exported to Europe to be converted into hair cloth. The short hair is used for stuffing sofas; such as you love to sit on when you go to see your gal. What they do with the hides I cannot tell. The hoofs are used in the manufacture of glue and the bones are ground up very fine and sold to the farmers as a fertilizer. Thus we see that no part of the body is lost.
[NO MORE PAGES TO THIS LETTER]
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Letter from Frank to George, June 2, 1863
Dear Brother George,
Your kind favor of the 29 Ultimo [29th of the last month] came to hand yesterday and its perusal afforded me much pleasure. You being at home among so many dear ones do not have chance to think of me as often as I do of you. Not a day passes but some little instance will be brought forth to remind me of home, and before I am aware of it I am dreaming; that is I am gazing on an imaginary picture or landscape. I see loved and cherished faces, hear sweet voices and gaze on familiar scenes. When some of the boys want to borrow my knife or something else and away goes my dream, my castle in the air is broken and I am again in Washington, scribbling for "Uncle Samuel."
I did not intend to resume writing so soon, an order came to the hospital for Corporal Frank Babcock to report to this office with-out or his place would have to be filled from some other source, so I packed up my dry goods and here I am, and at the present time feeling better than ever since the 17th of Dec 1862.
Don't think, George, that I shall forget that date very sudden, indeed I don't. My old office, Medical Bureau of the Provost Marshal General's Office, has been consolidated with Medical Director's, and under the latter's name. My business is Endorsement Clerk and very careful I have to be in regard to the many communications that pass through my hands. Many people all over the Northern states, officers and privates, have friends and those friends are sending letters and telegraphic dispatches inquiring for some one who is supposed to be in hospital. And then we have to examine our books and if the man is found we write back to his friends all we know of him. And when I tell you that every other man up North is writing since the fighting commenced you can judge what a heavy correspondence I have and what a job it is to carry it on. But if one works steady he can do a good deal in a day.
I received a letter from Rob. Ealden day before yesterday; he was then at Spotsylvania C.H. and under orders to be ready to move at any moment. He does not know where Smith is but thinks he is a prisoner. The last he saw of him was the 6 Ultimo. Smith made detail from Co. I for Picket and Rob had to go and he has not seen Piff since that morning. The Regiment went into the battle while Rob was off skirmishing and what was Smith's fate he cannot say. I have hopes that he is a prisoner, for they won't use him very rough, it is the Commissioned Officers that they keep so closely confined.
The days are very warm here, and it is also very dusty for we have not had any rain in a week or more, but the evenings are delightful; so cool and refreshing after toiling thro' the long sultry summer's day. Just the time to stroll through the Presidential ground. The many gay flowers, the orange and other Southern flowering trees are in full bloom and fill the air with most exquisite perfume. I sit and smoke, my mind wanders far off to the Land of dark Mystery. I try to gaze into the dark and mysterious Future and I often discover myself asking "what has it in store for me?" Echo answers "what?" and I finally am forced to the conclusion "that there is a Destiny shapes our end, rough hew it as we may." But we will change the subject if you please.
Before the 1st of January a person might get a "Nig." that was good for something. But now the whole tribe haint worth one cent, and by my faith I think the majority of the population of the city is "Cullerd People." Going up and down the Avenue you will have a gang of a dozen or more "mokes" after you with "Black your boots Sah!" "Put on a Union Polish Sah!" "Only a dime Sah!" and they will follow you even after you have told them no a dozen times. One took particular pains to dog after me every time I happened along. So one day I thought I would cure him of his Niggah impudence. I stopped and told him to put on a good polish, but just as he got his box nicely fixed I have it a kick into the ditch. Well George you ought to have seen that dark's eyes and teeth, suffice it to say he never troubled me since.
Times are quick in this city, not much excitement over the recent battles. I believe every one has become so hardened to blood and slaughter that the lists of the wounded and the wounded themselves do not affect them. The number of wounded deported to this office from the recent fighting is 28,000. The hospitals are crowded, before I left Carver they had to lay beds on the floors of the wards.
I saw the surgeons amputate legs, arms, fingers, and toes. One man was brought into the operating room who had a very ugly wound in his thigh. The surgeons went to work a ball and a two bladed knife which was drove into his hip out of sight. The knife was in his pocket and the ball hit it and drove it into the flesh. The large blade was broken into three pieces. Dr. Judson has the knife in his office as a curiosity.
But I must close. Give my love to all, remember me to the gals and I remain,
Your Aff'c't Brother
Frank
Your kind favor of the 29 Ultimo [29th of the last month] came to hand yesterday and its perusal afforded me much pleasure. You being at home among so many dear ones do not have chance to think of me as often as I do of you. Not a day passes but some little instance will be brought forth to remind me of home, and before I am aware of it I am dreaming; that is I am gazing on an imaginary picture or landscape. I see loved and cherished faces, hear sweet voices and gaze on familiar scenes. When some of the boys want to borrow my knife or something else and away goes my dream, my castle in the air is broken and I am again in Washington, scribbling for "Uncle Samuel."
I did not intend to resume writing so soon, an order came to the hospital for Corporal Frank Babcock to report to this office with-out or his place would have to be filled from some other source, so I packed up my dry goods and here I am, and at the present time feeling better than ever since the 17th of Dec 1862.
Don't think, George, that I shall forget that date very sudden, indeed I don't. My old office, Medical Bureau of the Provost Marshal General's Office, has been consolidated with Medical Director's, and under the latter's name. My business is Endorsement Clerk and very careful I have to be in regard to the many communications that pass through my hands. Many people all over the Northern states, officers and privates, have friends and those friends are sending letters and telegraphic dispatches inquiring for some one who is supposed to be in hospital. And then we have to examine our books and if the man is found we write back to his friends all we know of him. And when I tell you that every other man up North is writing since the fighting commenced you can judge what a heavy correspondence I have and what a job it is to carry it on. But if one works steady he can do a good deal in a day.
I received a letter from Rob. Ealden day before yesterday; he was then at Spotsylvania C.H. and under orders to be ready to move at any moment. He does not know where Smith is but thinks he is a prisoner. The last he saw of him was the 6 Ultimo. Smith made detail from Co. I for Picket and Rob had to go and he has not seen Piff since that morning. The Regiment went into the battle while Rob was off skirmishing and what was Smith's fate he cannot say. I have hopes that he is a prisoner, for they won't use him very rough, it is the Commissioned Officers that they keep so closely confined.
The days are very warm here, and it is also very dusty for we have not had any rain in a week or more, but the evenings are delightful; so cool and refreshing after toiling thro' the long sultry summer's day. Just the time to stroll through the Presidential ground. The many gay flowers, the orange and other Southern flowering trees are in full bloom and fill the air with most exquisite perfume. I sit and smoke, my mind wanders far off to the Land of dark Mystery. I try to gaze into the dark and mysterious Future and I often discover myself asking "what has it in store for me?" Echo answers "what?" and I finally am forced to the conclusion "that there is a Destiny shapes our end, rough hew it as we may." But we will change the subject if you please.
Before the 1st of January a person might get a "Nig." that was good for something. But now the whole tribe haint worth one cent, and by my faith I think the majority of the population of the city is "Cullerd People." Going up and down the Avenue you will have a gang of a dozen or more "mokes" after you with "Black your boots Sah!" "Put on a Union Polish Sah!" "Only a dime Sah!" and they will follow you even after you have told them no a dozen times. One took particular pains to dog after me every time I happened along. So one day I thought I would cure him of his Niggah impudence. I stopped and told him to put on a good polish, but just as he got his box nicely fixed I have it a kick into the ditch. Well George you ought to have seen that dark's eyes and teeth, suffice it to say he never troubled me since.
Times are quick in this city, not much excitement over the recent battles. I believe every one has become so hardened to blood and slaughter that the lists of the wounded and the wounded themselves do not affect them. The number of wounded deported to this office from the recent fighting is 28,000. The hospitals are crowded, before I left Carver they had to lay beds on the floors of the wards.
I saw the surgeons amputate legs, arms, fingers, and toes. One man was brought into the operating room who had a very ugly wound in his thigh. The surgeons went to work a ball and a two bladed knife which was drove into his hip out of sight. The knife was in his pocket and the ball hit it and drove it into the flesh. The large blade was broken into three pieces. Dr. Judson has the knife in his office as a curiosity.
But I must close. Give my love to all, remember me to the gals and I remain,
Your Aff'c't Brother
Frank
Monday, September 16, 2013
Letter from Frank to Parents, December 22, 1862
Washington
Dec 22, 1862
Dear Parents,
It is with some considerable difficulty but exceeding pleasure that I take my pencil in hand to inform you of my “place of abode” at present. Some time ago I received the ________ paper. They were brought to me on the Battlefield and although the shells and bullets were then whistling over our heads I wrote you a letter and sent it by the mare that brought our mail. There is a wide contrast in my condition then and now. I was then in full health and strength. Now scarcely able to raise in my bed and I cannot walk without aids. I am in Carver Hospital Washington which I reached the 18th.
My injury is in my left side. I am much stronger than when I first came here and if my spine is not injured I shall get along right smart.
Smith and I wrote some time since in regard to your sending a box of things, please let me know whether you sent it or not. I have seen nothing of any. You may direct it in my name, Washington D.C., Carver Hospital Ward 40.
We met with a defeat at Fredericksburg. We all cry with our voice, why is it? It is because politicians at home are allowed to cast dishonor on old and true veterans. The Army of the Potomac is none other but Little Mac. He it was who formed it from a motley crowd and they took it from him and the result is a defeat and a heavy loss.
Put those harping editors where I was and let them see what I saw (viz - one poor fellow’s head torn completely from his shoulders) and I think they will quit drawing likenesses of McClellan or any other person.
They would be so frightened that their tongues would cling to the roof of their mouths. Please write often. My love to all. Send me some money for I would like an apple now and then. Excuse all mistakes for I am in no condition to write.
Your Afc’t Son,
Frank
This appears to be Frank’s first letter home after his injury. I don’t know if it was the pain or the drugs that kept him from disclosing how he received the injury, because this is definitely not a healthy Frank writing. His staunch support of George McClellan is unsurprising, because “Little Mac” was a very popular general among the troops. Unfortunately, McClellan’s reticence in engaging the enemy lost him Lincoln’s trust and he lost control of the Army of the Potomac. There is little doubt that McClellan’s meticulous preparation and planning turned a “motley crowd” of green boys and men into fighting soldiers, but his hesitance in using them to their full advantage cost him everything.
Letter from Frank to Friends, November 22 1862
Out on Piquet [picket]1
3 miles from camp
Nov 22 1862
Dear Friends,
I wrote you a letter last Sunday and I then told you we had but just returned from “Piquet Duty,” well here I am again out 3 miles from camp doing duty as a Piquet and I take this opportunity to answer Mother’s and George’s letters which I received a day or two since.
I am very glad to hear that all are well. I am still well and able to do duty. The weather is cold and damp, and very many of the men have had colds. We are now provided with wedge tents six feet square. The cloth is nothing but cotton and the water runs right through and as it was very late at night when we reached our present camp, we did not have time to dig ditches round the tents. So many woke in the morning and found their beds in a mud puddle. No wonder the tender ones have severe colds. William Ealden and Smith cough all night, often so hard and long as to cause vomiting. Will is not accounted as being able to do duty. Smith is here on Piquet. He is much better.
I have little news to write. The Rebs are at Fredericksburg 5 miles from our camp. Our folks have cannons planted ready to shell the town unless surrendered by the mayor. I think the Rebs will evacuate2. Still the time is not far distant when we must fight our way and as we are in Front in the Left Grand Wing3 we will be among the first to take to the Greybacks and I hope the 122nd will do honor to the town and city from which they came.
We have already won a good name. Our camp has always been pronounced the best in the Brigade. Major now Lt Col Hamlin an old campaigner says we cannot be beat when marching in the Line of Battle. We have a General Inspection Sunday and the Inspector said he never saw the N.Y. 7th stand steadier or make a better appearance than the 122nd and the N.Y. Herald says the 122nd is a fit standard for all new troops.
You write that you have a pair of gloves all knit for me. You can send them by mail. I think they come very handy here. Some of these mornings when we have to turn out for “role call” and find everything white with frost. I am very warmly clad excepting my feet. My shoes are all bust out and the mud and slush run in and out when they please. I made out a requisition for shoes and socks a month ago but don’t seem to get them.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Well I shall try and get along with Bacon, Hard Tack and coffee. I would just like to drop in and have dinner with you but that is impossible. So George must eat a double shot for me. I hope this War will end soon so that all can return to their Homes. But I will never do as _____ and ______ 4 have done but will stick until honorably discharged. Until then I remain as ever
Yours Afct’ly5 and for the Union
Frank
Excuse this scribbling for it is very cold.
1”Piquet” was picket duty, where members from each regiment took turns guarding the camp. Since Frank said he was 3 miles from camp, he was likely in the Advance Guard, which meant he was first in line to encounter the enemy if they attacked. Interestingly, “piquet” is also a French card game for two players, similar to Euchre. Maybe Frank was being a bit tongue-in-cheek when referring to “picket” duty as “Piquet” duty.
2The Rebs did not evacuate. They hunkered down on the hills above the town and beat the shit out of the Yanks. The Union had difficulties crossing the Rappahannock River due to bureaucratic delays allowing the South to dig in deeper with their fortifications. It is known as one of the most one-sided battles of the Civil War.
3The Left Grand Wing (division) was commanded by Maj. Gen. William B. Franklin, consisted of the I Corps of Maj. Gen. John F. Reynolds (divisions of Brig. Gens. Abner Doubleday and John Gibbon and Maj. Gen. George G. Meade) and the VI Corps of Maj. Gen. William F. "Baldy" Smith (divisions of Brig. Gens. William T. H. Brooks, Albion P. Howe, and John Newton). A cavalry brigade commanded by Brig. Gen. George D. Bayard was attached. On December 13th they were able to pierce the first defensive line of Confederate General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson, but were eventually repulsed.
4It is difficult to read what Frank has written here; it does appear to be proper names, and from the context of his sentence it sounds like these two individuals went AWOL from the regiment. Frank did indeed stick until he was honorably discharged.
5”Afct’ly” is short for “affectionately.” It seems to be a trademark endearment of Frank’s.
Letter from Frank to Parents, December 14, 1862
I wish I could say that I had this letter in my grubby little paws, but alas, I do not.
I am, however, fortunate enough to find a website that has an image of the letter along with a transcription of its contents.
Battle of Fredericksburg Letter
Yes, it's a letter that Frank wrote on the battlefield. Mortars and bullets flying at him, and he stops for a moment to write a letter home...brilliant. In three days, his life will change completely.
I am, however, fortunate enough to find a website that has an image of the letter along with a transcription of its contents.
Battle of Fredericksburg Letter
Yes, it's a letter that Frank wrote on the battlefield. Mortars and bullets flying at him, and he stops for a moment to write a letter home...brilliant. In three days, his life will change completely.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Letter from Frank to George, October 11, 1866
309 F St1
Washington
Oct 11th 1866
Dear George,
The old saying is that “Procrastination is the thief of time” and it is most certainly true in my case. Your letter containing “photo” came to hand a long, long time ago and here I am just replying. To be sure there are some mitigating circumstances and on these I shall have to fall back on an excuse. I have reference to the sore throat spoke of in my letter Father and an attack of “Billious Fever”2 from which I have not entirely recovered as yet. Am so weak and nervous that I can’t hold the pen steady.
Although many accounts of your rapid growth had been furnished me I must allow George that I was not a little surprised when I looked upon your “facsimile.” Oh! my eye! Long tailored coat, vest, and I suppose of course a “Plug Hat.”3 Now see here Mr., I want to know whether you propose, when I come to see you, to play off some of my old tricks and “stand me on my head.” etc. etc.
My dignity could not possibly stand the aforesaid “inverted position,” and unless you promise, on honor, to conduct yourself in a proper manner I don’t think I will come. We are having horrid weather, rain rain rain and mud mud mud. Last night a gentleman was driving out 14th St4 when the earth, right in the center of the street, gave way and his horse was precipitated into a hole 30 ft deep, and the gentleman barely escaped with his life. To day the breach extends across the street. I must say this circumstance speaks volumes in favor of the Corporation (?)
De Witt Comb has just been here, and George don’t open your eyes when I inform you that he is Married! Yes indeed tis a notorious fact, and he and Mrs. start for Syracuse in a few days, and by the way I suppose you would like to know about when I intend to do likewise. Now I can get away this Winter. But I don’t think I should enjoy myself half so well as to wait till Spring. If I take a leave this Winter I can’t get away again for some time and when I do visit Home I want to go at least once to Oneida Lake5 fishing. So I guess we will wait till Spring.
Little did I think, as I caught the last glimpse of “Home way up on the Hill,” just as the cars shot into woods east of the Tunnell, that so long a time would elapse ere I looked upon the old familiar scenes again, and what a pleasure it will be after so long an absence. How many I wonder of the little folks of Lodi6 will I remember. See me going along Fayette St.7 and as the motley crowd cry Hello! Hank I will be obliged to stop and inquire “Sorry what might your… [no more additional pages]
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1 F St in Washington runs east-west across a good portion of the city. Its westernmost point begins at Virginia Ave NW near the campus of George Washington University. It is broken up in several places by the White House grounds at 17 St NW, the Georgetown University Law Center at 3rd and 2nd Streets NW, then again at Union Station where it joins up with Columbus Circle. Its easternmost point ends at 15th St NE.
2 “Billious Fever” was any fever accompanied by nausea/vomiting and diarrhea. Differential diagnoses ranged from food poisoning to gastritis to typhoid.
3 A “Plug Hat” was another name for a top hat.
4 There are two current 14th St in DC: NW and NE. 14th St NW runs north-south, beginning near Fort Stevens in the tenuous boundary between DC and Maryland, through Meridian Hill (site of Carver Hospital, where Henry was sent after his injury,) past the White House where it crosses Constitution Ave NW and becomes 14th St SW. It then travels over the Potomac and into Viriginia, becoming Interstate 395. 14th St NE is much smaller, beginning at Florida Ave NE and going through a mostly residential area of the city until it ends at L St SE, near the Anacostia River.
5 Oneida Lake is the largest lake entirely within New York State. It is not considered part of the Finger Lakes, although many locals refer to it as the “Thumb.” Oneida Lake is roughly 16 miles northeast of Syracuse, and fishermen can catch walleye, Northern pike, and bass in its waters.
6 The Lodi mentioned here is mostly likely Lodi St in Syracuse, which is a few blocks away from Fayette St where the Babcocks lived.
7 Fayette St in Syracuse runs east-west parallel between Genesee St (route 92) and Erie Blvd (route 5.)
About this blog
The purpose of this blog is to compile all the records I have of my great-great grandfather, Henry Frank Babcock, who served in the Civil War in the 122nd New York Infantry.
Henry Frank Babcock, known as Frank to his friends and family, was born in Onondaga County, New York in 1845 to John Prentice and Abigail Ayer Babcock. On August 5, 1862 at the age of 18, he enlisted in the 122nd New York Volunteer Infantry, which was a regiment made up of men from Onondaga County (mostly Syracuse.) Their nickname was the "Onondagas" and their official commander was Colonel Silas Titus. Their acting commander was Lieutenant Colonel Augustus Wade Dwight.
The 122nd were immediately put into service as part of the Army of the Potomac in the Sixth Corps. They were put in reserve at Antietam and suffered no losses, but in the following battles they began to see more of the battlefield. They participated in the Battles of Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, The Wilderness, Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, the Second Battle of Petersburgh, Cedar Creek, and the Appomattox Campaign (among others.) This is a neat site I found detailing the 122nd's movements during the war: Original 122nd New York
Frank was mustered in as a corporal in Company I. His company was made up of men from Syracuse that he likely knew and had grown up with. According to his muster rolls, Frank was five feet, six and one-half inches tall with black hair and blue eyes. His occupation is stated as "farmer" but that is in question for many reasons, but perhaps it was a part-time job.
In December of 1862, right after the Battle of Fredericksburg, Frank's regiment was in camp near Falmouth VA. Some of his comrades were chopping down trees within camp lines, and one fell across Frank's tent, injuring his back (left lumbar region) and spine. He was sent to Carver Hospital in Washington DC, which sat atop Meridien Hill in Columbia Heights, north of the White House. He never returned to the regiment and was mustered out of the 122nd and into the 58th Company, 2nd Battalion Veterans Reserve Corps in October 1863. He worked as a clerk with the Medical Director's Office and then re-enlisted for U.S. Army service as a hospital steward in April 1865 until 1868.
Frank described his injuries thusly (taken directly from 1897 Claimant's Inability Affidavit):
I was crushed by tree which was cut by comrade within camp lines Dec. 17 1862 near Falmouth VA - was immediately sent to Carver Hospital Washington D.C. Never returned to Regt. consequently officers of Co. or Regt. had no knowledge of result of injury.
Was not treated in Regimental Hospital. Dr Tefft, Surgeon 122nd New York Vols., bound up injury to my back but he is now dead and he knew nothing of my hernia as it did not develop until I commenced to attempt to stand on my feet which was six months after date of injury. Then I discovered a lump in my left groin which gradually increased until it extended into the testicles. I then procured a truss. Have been compelled to wear one continually since.
Frank eventually made his way back to Syracuse, married Susie Hensler, and had a son, Frank Albert born in 1882, who became my great-grandfather. Susie died in 1913 while Frank (Henry Frank) lived until 1931 age 86.
Henry Frank Babcock, known as Frank to his friends and family, was born in Onondaga County, New York in 1845 to John Prentice and Abigail Ayer Babcock. On August 5, 1862 at the age of 18, he enlisted in the 122nd New York Volunteer Infantry, which was a regiment made up of men from Onondaga County (mostly Syracuse.) Their nickname was the "Onondagas" and their official commander was Colonel Silas Titus. Their acting commander was Lieutenant Colonel Augustus Wade Dwight.
The 122nd were immediately put into service as part of the Army of the Potomac in the Sixth Corps. They were put in reserve at Antietam and suffered no losses, but in the following battles they began to see more of the battlefield. They participated in the Battles of Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, The Wilderness, Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, the Second Battle of Petersburgh, Cedar Creek, and the Appomattox Campaign (among others.) This is a neat site I found detailing the 122nd's movements during the war: Original 122nd New York
Frank was mustered in as a corporal in Company I. His company was made up of men from Syracuse that he likely knew and had grown up with. According to his muster rolls, Frank was five feet, six and one-half inches tall with black hair and blue eyes. His occupation is stated as "farmer" but that is in question for many reasons, but perhaps it was a part-time job.
In December of 1862, right after the Battle of Fredericksburg, Frank's regiment was in camp near Falmouth VA. Some of his comrades were chopping down trees within camp lines, and one fell across Frank's tent, injuring his back (left lumbar region) and spine. He was sent to Carver Hospital in Washington DC, which sat atop Meridien Hill in Columbia Heights, north of the White House. He never returned to the regiment and was mustered out of the 122nd and into the 58th Company, 2nd Battalion Veterans Reserve Corps in October 1863. He worked as a clerk with the Medical Director's Office and then re-enlisted for U.S. Army service as a hospital steward in April 1865 until 1868.
Frank described his injuries thusly (taken directly from 1897 Claimant's Inability Affidavit):
I was crushed by tree which was cut by comrade within camp lines Dec. 17 1862 near Falmouth VA - was immediately sent to Carver Hospital Washington D.C. Never returned to Regt. consequently officers of Co. or Regt. had no knowledge of result of injury.
Was not treated in Regimental Hospital. Dr Tefft, Surgeon 122nd New York Vols., bound up injury to my back but he is now dead and he knew nothing of my hernia as it did not develop until I commenced to attempt to stand on my feet which was six months after date of injury. Then I discovered a lump in my left groin which gradually increased until it extended into the testicles. I then procured a truss. Have been compelled to wear one continually since.
Frank eventually made his way back to Syracuse, married Susie Hensler, and had a son, Frank Albert born in 1882, who became my great-grandfather. Susie died in 1913 while Frank (Henry Frank) lived until 1931 age 86.
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