Chauncey Hill: Part 7

By Craig Hilmer

Chauncey J. Hilll, in 1864, was a 26 year old farmer just married to 20 year old Sarah Downing. Both had family who farmed in the Saratoga area and were themselves just setting up their own household and farm when Chauncey was called up to offer his services to the Minnesota 9th Regiment, Company K for battle in the Civil War.

He and Sarah corresponded during the war and those letters were maintained by family until they were donated to the Minnesota Historical Society in the 1960s.  The Press has run several weeks of these letters to date, with one final week to go to the final set.

Private Hill, in our series, is sitting in Rolla Missouri with Company K, waiting orders to move South to engage the enemy. In this series of letters he talks of camp life, while Sarah gives him the low down on home life and drops the news that she is pregnant.

From Chauncey:

Rolla April 7” 1864 

My Dear Sarah,
Last night another letter from you gladdened my vision. I was glad to know that Joseph had so far regained his health to Winona and hope soon to see him here able to drill with the rest of us. I have been off duty a few days since writing. I took cold while working at the shanty and soon after broke out with what the doctor called chicken pox. I went to the hospital for a few days spending the time quite agreeably till I felt like taking my place in the ranks again. Now I feel well and am in comfortable quarters. 

You advice me to look out for vermin. I’ll tell you how I manage. My hair has been shortened again and I practice washing my scalp in cold water each day. Besides I use a fine comb instead of coarse one. When the weather calms and the water gets comfortable I intend to bathe frequently. My change of clothing is rather limited for this weather and when it becomes warm I think it will do.

From Sarah:

Saratoga, April 8th, 1864 

Dear Husband,
I received your kind letter dated March 31st last evening. I was very glad to hear from you. But sorry to hear that you have not got rid of that cold yet. I am afraid you do not take good care of yourself, you must be very careful or you will be sick. 

I do not feel quite well myself this morning; my head aches, and I feel sick to my stomach. The rest are well as usual as far as I know, though I forgot about Lewis, he went to St. Charles last week on Prince. 

Mother sent her tin boiler over to the tin shop to have a new bottom put in a few days before so Lewis took a notion to bring it home on horse back. After he got on father handed the boiler to Lewis. Prince did not see it at the time but before Lewis got hold of the lines Prince got sight of the boiler, which frightened him and he started and ran, threw Lewis off, spraining his left wrist pretty bad. It is swelled considerable yet.
There have been 3 funerals not far from here within a week. There were 2 at St. Charles last Sunday and one at Saratoga. It was a soldier; his name was Henry Boss, he was buried in military order. 

Last Monday Mr. John Boyd was buried at St. Charles. He had been down to Illinois and was on his way home when he was taken sick and died just as the boat stopped in Winona. 

I cannot keep my mind on my work very well. Mary and I feel more interested in reading the news now than we did last year. The paper says there is a talk of calling for 300,000 more and says the draft off the 18th of this month. 

Oh, the poor soldiers, how I pity them. How I long to hear some good news about the war, to hear it is near a close, but I am afraid I shall not hear so good news as that very soon. 

Chauncey, where did you set out your lilac bush? Mother Hill and I hunted a long time for it but could not find anything that looked like it. We found the two rose bushes, south of the house. 

Last night was the first night I slept in our house, though I did not sleep but a little for I was thinking of you, Chauncey, wishing that you were there too in our little house. When I slept I was still thinking of you. 

O Chauncey, God only knows how I miss your gentle words, loving smiles, and warm kisses. O how I do want to see you, Dear Husband, to lean my head on your breast – just as I used to do; on that noble breast, which I was never worthy of calling mine, I know that you are too good to live with me, but Chauncey I will be true to you as long as I live. 

O Chauncey, do not think that I blame you for what has happened, I do not blame you, I know you meant no harm, I was to blame myself and I must suffer for it. Yes, Chauncey, and I remember the time and what you said. It was the 22nd of February. I am sorry it is now, as you are away and I do not know if you will ever come back again. If I knew you were coming back home, or, if you were at home now, I should not care so much. But if you should not be permitted to return, it would be better for me not to have it so. But, it cannot be helped now, therefore I will try to make the best of it, hoping to see you at home about the middle of November, I guess.

Next week will be the final installment in this chapter of early Minnesota history. The life of the Hills continues on in letters past the point of our departure and can be found by visiting the Minnesota Historical Society, which is the source of these letters.