April 10, 1863

April 10, 1863

Letter from Chauncey Herbert Cooke, April 10, 1863
Dear mother:

Your much valued letter received. I am just as glad as I can be that all are well but there is a tone of plaint as to things I can't
[p. 30]
understand. It must be you have the blues. Don't think of me as being in danger for a minute, for I am having a royal good time. Its this way with me. If I have the blues it is when I get a fit on of thinking of the past when I did'nt do as I should. I guess you would call it remorse. Some of the younger fellows and I have talked these things over and I find they were kind of troubled in the same way. They said it made them feel awful mean when they remembered some sly things or some deception they played on their mother and father. These things bring on homesickness and that sends them to the hospital, because they can't eat and so are put down on the sick list. I think as much of home as any of them but I don't want to see it until we thrash the rebs to a finish. We have four Wisconsin regiments at this place, the 25, 27, 31 and 34, a full brigade. You have doubtless heard, that the Gov. is enlisting negroes and forming negro regiments. They are officered by whites and there are a lot of candidates for positions in all the white regiments. Some 25 have applied for positions from our regiment. There is a lot of joking on the side about the fellows that want to officer the nigger regiments. Our regt. has just drawn a new outfit of rubber blankets, hats and short coats. Enclosed you will find some flowers given me by a poor black washer woman I met on the road up the bluff today with a bundle of clothes on her head. As she handed them to me she said "Please massa will you 'cept dese flowers from a poor nigger woman who jes loves de Lincoln soldiers." Maybe you has a sweet heart and will send um to her." I told her I had a sweet heart, my mother, and she said "You's a good boy honey." The black folks are awful good, poor miserable things that they are. The boys talk to them fearful and treat them most any way and yet they can't talk two minutes but tears come to their eyes and they throw their arms up and down and praise de Lord for de coming of de Lincoln soldiers.

In your last letter you spoke of my going to school, if I ever return.. I am not bothering about things so far in the future. I am troubled about this awful war. Maybe I ought to think more of Webster, as father keeps jibing me about my spelling. If he will give me time I will learn to spell too as I aint but 16 years old, that is I'll be 17 on the 15th of May if there has been no juggling with the family register.

By the way I nearly lost some valuables the other night. I was on Provost guard, the other night in town, at the depot. My relief had lain down at 11 o'clock for a four hours sleep. At 3 o'clock in the morning we were routed to go on guard, feeling in my pockets I found my gold pen missing. My money I had placed in my shirt pocket was safe. The comrade next me lost $17. In the morning my gold pen and holder was found in the mud near the platform. A detective force has been looking for the thieves but they don't find any thieves. Word has just come that Nathan Mann of our Co. has just died in the hospital. Poor fellow, he has two brothers left in our compaany.

A skirmish yesterday at Hickman, 26 guerillas were captured and bro't to this place for confinment as prisoners of war. There is nothing very stirring about us. The boys are getting tired of mere guard duty and are hoping for any chance that will send us to the front. For my part I aint dying to go to Vicksburg where their is a better chance of getting killed as some claim they are. Maybe they are more anxious to die for their country than I am but from what I know of them I am doubtful. There is nothing farther from my mind at this writing than a wish to
[p. 31]
die for anybody or anything. I am hopeing and praying for anything to make the rebels squeal and call it quits so I can come home and have a good time. Of course I am willing to take my chance, come what may, but I would a little rather live, come what may.

Tell Elder Morse, Henry is all right and eats, if any difference more than his rations every day.

Love to all.

Your son,

CHAUNCEY.