These letters were written by Corporal Benjamin Franklin Treadwell (1842-1911), a 22 year-old brass finisher when he enlisted in July 1864 in Company A, 42nd Massachusetts Infantry. He was mustered
These letters were written by Corporal Benjamin Franklin Treadwell (1842-1911), a 22 year-old brass finisher when he enlisted in July 1864 in Company A, 42nd Massachusetts Infantry. He was mustered out in November 1864 after serving 100 days. Benjamin was the son of William Henry Harrison Montgomery Treadwell (1813-1893) and Martha Jane Brackett (1816-1886).
The letter is one of a dozen written by Corporal Treadwell that were sold a few years ago by Cowan’s Auctions along with several by his older brother, Joshua Brackett Treadwell (1840-1885), a surgeon in the 5th and 54th Massachusetts Infantry. Corporal Treadwell’s letters were well written, providing nice descriptions of camp life in the 45th Massachusetts while assigned to duty in Alexandria, Virginia. The hottest action he described was attending church, observing a man who accidentally shot himself die of gangrene, and (upping the ante), seeing a man who had served with the enemy return to camp as a spy, get captured, tried as a deserter, and shot. Treadwell took part in several prototypically hard marches during his time under arms, including the one described in this letter to Great Falls, Maryland.
The 42nd Massachusetts preserved its identity as a militia unit after the close of its nine months’ service, and in July 1864, was reorganized with some changes in companies and mustered into the service for one hundred days. It was used for guard and garrison duty during the late summer and fall in order that the older and more experienced troops which had been performing this duty might be relieved and sent to the front.
The companies which were to constitute the 42nd Massachusetts began to assemble at Camp Meigs, Readville, early in July, and were mustered into the service between the 14th and 22d of the month. On the 24th, the command set out to Washington under Lieut. Joseph Stedman. About this time, Col. Burrell was released from captivity, returned and resumed the command of his regiment at Alexandria.
The regiment did guard and patrol duty, one detachment being sent to Great Falls, Maryland, while others were employed in guarding supply trains moving to and from the Shenandoah Valley.
Most of the letters written by the Treadwell brothers were addressed to their sister Martha Jane Treadwell (1843-18xx) who married Alonzo Cummings Grout (1832-18xx) in March 1870 and moved to Rockford, Illinois. Most of the letters were sent to her address at 291 Tremont Street in Boston, Massachusetts.
Addressed to Miss S. A. Treadwell, New Market, New Hampshire
August 4th 
We arrived here last Friday and are camped on a hill about one mile from the center of the city. The regiment is doing provost and patrol duty in the city. Every morning a certain number of men are detailed with sergeants & corporals to march to the city where they are distributed among the different marshal’s offices, barracks, stables, &c. all belonging to Government. I am on duty today at the Marshal’s Office with six men. It comes my turn about every other day. It is a pretty lazy life lying around this way. All I have to do is to change the reliefs and look out for the prisoners.
We had quite a long and rough passage and the boys were very seasick. I am very well and have been so ever since I have been here. It is very hot and we begin to look a little niggerish. Please give my regards to all friends and write me soon.
Direct to Co. A, 42nd Mass. V. M., Camp Burrell, Alexandria, Va.
Be sure and write it Mass.
Your affectionate brother, — Benj. F. Treadwell
Addressed to Miss M. J. Treadwell, 291 Fremont Street, Boston, Mass.
August 7, 1864
I just received your letter just now and hasten to reply. It does not seem much like Sunday here. I came in from provost duty this forenoon at 10 o’clock just as a large squad of our regiment was going in to church so I did not have a chance to go.
After I ate my dinner, I went down to the river — or rather creek (4 ft. deep) to wash my shirt and stockings. This is the only time we have to wash our clothes. I received a paper from you today and a letter from B. yesterday.
Ed Coleman wrote to his mother last Sunday but I notice he wrote to Hingham first. He also wrote the other day to a young lady of Church Street whom he told me gave him a very polite invitation to correspond (How are you Nettie). I had I think