The original letters from which these typewritten copies were made were "quite some travelers." Whether written from Camp Stone, Md., and Libby prison, Richmond Virginia as the first two were, or whether from Arkansas to Whitewater Falls, Minnesota, or vice versa, they all found an abiding place for over a third of a century as keepsakes in the Emery home, (three successive houses on the same quarter-section of land) in Highland Township, Wabasha County, Minnesota.
When the last old home place was sold in 1902 and Mother (Mrs. Ursula W. Emery), Ernest, sister Ursula and Julia moved to Lake de May, Alberta, Canada, the letters went along. They were at Mother's place, a settler's prairie cabin. Then after Julia became Mrs. Ben Larson they were kept at her house. It was Julia and her daughter Marion who sent them to me, a year or so after our visit to Canada in 1936. And now I have them typed ready to bind. The originals are with my Spanish War notes and keepsakes.
One has to read only three or four of these Civil War letters to discover that they cover two different periods of Levi Emery's military experience: (a) The first extending from May 26, 1861, when he was mustered in as a volunteer in Company I of the First Minnesota Volunteer Infantry Regiment, and concluding with his discharge in April 18, 1862 "for wounds received at Bull Run (First Battle)"; (b) the second period, when after being drafted May 26, 1864, he was sent to Arkansas where the Third Minnesota Infantry Regiment did garrison duty for over a year.
Although a member of two regiments, Father always regarded the "First Minnesota" as his regiment. That was the regiment in which he served as a volunteer; in the Third he was a "Conscript". Then, too, he got his first military training in the "First Minnesota" and his first and last battle experience.
Although only two letters have been preserved that touch upon Father's first period of military service ( these being one of his from Richmond and Captain Pell's from Camp Stone, Md. ) yet I have been able to get something of a picture of those events from what he has told us.
He did not often speak of his army experiences; but I remember his telling how a messenger on horseback brought the news to him, on the farm, that Fort Sumter had been fired upon by the Confederates. In the "History of Wabash County" Levi Emery is mentioned as being the first volunteer from the Township of Highland, and the "ladies presented him with a banner."
Ordered to Washington, the First Minnesota embarked at St. Paul on the "War Eagle" and the "Northern Belle". At LaCrosse the soldiers were transferred to railroad cars and changed cars at Harrisburg, Pa. for Baltimore, Md.. I have heard Father tell of their march through Baltimore. It seems that in changing to the cars for Washington it was necessary to go through the city to reach the other depot. A few days before the First Minnesota's arrival in Baltimore, the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment had been attacked by a mob on the streets and several of the soldiers killed.
But Col. Gorman got ready to meet possible trouble. He had companies load their muskets and fix bayonets. The band was sent to the rear, and, at the head of the Regiment, Col. Gorman started for the other depot. Father said there were some black looks on the faces of some in the crowd.
Finally one fellow insolently asked, "Where's your music?" Colonel Gorman tapping a soldier's gun-barrel said, "In our gun-barrels."
Arriving at Washington the regiment continued its intensive drilling. During time off Father and some comrades managed to visit the Capitol. Father said that he sat in the Speaker's chair.
Another incident: One day the regiment was drilling in a field where ran a rail fence. Colonel Gorman was on his horse, backing slowly as the men advanced. His horse was nearing the rail fence. "Halt!" he commanded, but the band kept on playing, and the men (as has happened before and since, no doubt, seemed, under the circumstances unable to hear.) "Halt" he yelled again, and turning to the music-makers he exclaimed, "D---- that band. When I say Halt, I mean Halt."
It was not a great while after this that the insistent call of "On to Richmond" was acted upon by the Army of the Potomac.
On the hot Sunday morning of July 21st, 1861, Father's regiment was one of those to cross Bull Run Creek.
Father has told of the artillery duel that took place before the general engagement took place. Confederate and Union Batteries were firing shells over waiting infantry, the men ducking as missiles screeched overhead. Some of the men joked: "Look at Jim or Tom or Charlie dodge."
But all of those shells did not go overhead. Father said that when one of the artillery horses was hit, the men cut the traces and pulled it out of the way and put another horse in.
Of the struggle around the Henry House and the capture and recapture of some pieces of artillery that changed hands as many as three times, one may read in the record, "Minnesota in the Civil and Indian War."
That was one of the parts Father skipped - the actual fighting - in telling war stories. But questioned about getting wounded he said he felt something strike his pants-leg, saw blood, and at first thought he must have been hit in the leg until he saw a finger of the left hand dangling. He tied it up and "went on" with the rest until the Rebels, in increased numbers charged again. Father turned with the rest but a comrade (I do not remember his name, if Father told) who was down begged "O, Emery, you're not going to leave us are your?" Father set his musket against an oak tree and began carrying water for the wounded men. A body of gray cavalry was soon upon them and compelled all who could walk to march to Manassas Junction.
There they were put aboard freight cars and started for Richmond, Virginia.
Father had lain down and dozed off to sleep, when, about nine o'clock he was awakened by a commotion in the car. The guards had thrown a bushel-basket of bread to the prisoners � who, incidentally had not eaten anything since early morning.
Seen a fellow-prisoner with a piece of bread 'about the size of one's two fists' Father asked him for a bit of it and the fellow broke off half of it and gave it to Father. He remarked more than once that he wishes he had asked the man's name and kept tract of him so as to have done something for him.
After the Union prisoners reached Richmond, the Confederates were confronted with the problem of finding a place to keep them. A large tobacco-warehouse was emptied and used as their lodging place, later to be known as Libby Prison.
Meanwhile the wounded were looked after by the Rebel surgeons. Father always spoke highly of the manner in which he was treated by them. His ring finger of the left hand was removed and the bullet extracted from his hand. Father said he intended to have kept the bullet, but one of the two surgeons 'wanted to show it to a friend' and that was the last Father saw of it.
Father was not so severe in condemnation of the treatment at Libby as some of the later prisoners were. They punished prisoners, as he mentioned seeing a man with his thumbs tied together and hooked over a peg as high as he could reach. Father admitted that the corn-bread was of 'meal' that was cob-and-all ground together. And he tells of it getting wormy sometimes.
At first there was difficulty getting in touch with friends in the North, as shown by Captain Pell's letter; but finally letters got through. Father even got a five-dollar goldpiece that Mother , Mrs. Sophia Burnap Emery Stearns, sent him. A fellow-prisoner, wishing to have some of that $5, sold Father a ring carved from a beef-bone and engraved 'Nelly'. He sent it to his sister, my aunt Emily Cole, and she, years later, gave it to me.
The question of exchange of prisoners at first stumped Federal officials, they fearing that to do so would acknowledge the Confederacy as a nation. However they later recognized (sic) them as 'belligerents' but not as a sovereign power, and exchanged prisoners without compunction.
And in January, 1862, the 19th, Father left Libby Prison, having been paroled up-on his word of honour not to take up arms against the Confederacy unless, and until duly exchanged. On April 18th, 1862 he was discharged for wounds received at First Battle of Bull Run.
