Lot of 17 Letters from Thomas B. Booth, 3rd VA Cav.

Lot of 17 Letters from Thomas B. Booth, 3rd Virginia Volunteer Cavalry

Lot of 17 letters written by Thomas Boisseau Booth (1840-1923), a farmer from Dinwiddie, VA during his service with Co. I, 3rd Virginia Cavalry. A graduate of the Virginia Military Institute, Booth enlisted as private on May 29, 1861, and his first letter to his future wife Agnes Lyon was written about a month after he joined the Confederate Cavalry. He writes to his "Little Darling" fairly regularly throughout the year, and this collection also features two letters from 1862, the latter of which was written shortly before Booth sustained wounds during the Confederate withdrawal from Norfolk, VA on May 9, 1862.

The 3rd Virginia Cavalry was formed of several independent companies that mustered into state service in May of 1861. Co. I was led by Captain William A. Adams and assigned to duty on the Virginia Peninsula. Though the Dinwiddie Cavalry was not engaged at the Battle of Big Bethel (June 10, 1816), Booth writes a few days later that he witnessed its aftermath: "I knew nothing of it until I got near Bethel. . . Upon getting there I found all the tents burning and all the baggage the poor soldiers could not carry on their horses left upon the ground." The movements of Federal troops around Yorktown continued to fuel the atmosphere of anxiety and unease around camp, as Booth describes in his next few letters. He shares one occasion in particular when a pair of enslaved women were mistaken for Yankee soldiers.

Later in the summer, Booth discusses a proclamation issued by General John E. Wool compelling "all persons living in the neighborhood of Newport News & Fortress Monroe to declare themselves on one side or the other . . . there are quite a number of them who pretend to be friendly to both parties by wearing a white band around their hats to pass themselves by us & raising a white flag in front of their houses to keep the Yankees from destroying their property." Booth, ardently loyal to the Confederacy, expresses disgust at this self-serving behavior, writing in part: "This is no time for neutrals. Every man should respond to his country's call & free their soil from threat of degraded Lincolnites who have come to invade & destroy our once beautiful & happy country, murder devoted husbands & turn the widow with her fatherless children out upon the world to mourn & to suffer."

In the fall, Booth participated more frequently in scouting parties and was occasionally detailed to relocate civilian families out of harm's way. In November, he describes a mission near Newport News in which he encountered a "small party of Yankees": "We were immediately ordered to charge on them. Every man put his horse out at almost full speed & at the same time commence hollowing [sic] at the top of their voices. Soon the Yankees saw us coming & they as usual put out for the woods, at double quick time." The Union prisoners they captured related that they "have six hundred men at Newport News & that they have no idea of attacking us. . . their chief dread is the Virginia horsemen."

Later, from a position halfway between Richmond and Petersburg, Booth shares details from skirmishes at New Market Bridge. All of his fellow soldiers returned amid "balls flying at them at a fearful rate," although a member of the Cumberland Troops "was struck. . . the ball entered the left side, glanced around the ribs & came out of his back." Booth also describes the unfortunate maiming of a Black Walnut Trooper who accidentally shot himself in the head: "He went to a fodder stack to get feed for his horse and, stooping to pick up the fodder, his pistol fell from his holster striking the ground in such a manner as to cause it to fire the ball entering his forehead just above the eye."

The Christmas of 1861 found Booth still encamped near Yorktown, and his letter exudes the melancholia he feels at being separated from Agnes and his family during the holidays: "I thought of you a great deal last night & nearly all day today of the many happy moments spent with you last mas. But a great changes has taken place since then & I am separated from my darling. Although I am not permitted to join the beloved circle & to enjoy the merry jokes & the sweet society of those near & dear to me yet, I am with you in heart."

By February of the following year, Booth writes despairingly that General John B. Macgruder has revoked all furloughs, and it seems that he and the other "twelve month volunteers will have to re-enlist or be forced into service by a draft." Angrily, he questions why those who remain at home fail to enlist when there is so much at stake for those in the field. Booth also Agnes of their recent defeat at Roanoke Island, although he tries to end the letter on a more positive note: "It is impossible for us to be victorious in every engagement & especially when the odds are so great. Of course we cannot compete with them on water where they have their Navy to play upon us. But just let them come out upon equal footing upon land & see who will carry the day."

In the final letter, Booth describes the largest, bloodiest skirmish he has experienced thus far on the Lower Peninsula, wherein twenty-one Confederate men were killed and sixty-one wounded. Union losses were heavier, and Magruder "sent over a flag of truce yesterday for them to come & bury their dead as they had not taken any steps towards paying the last tribute of respect to their unfortunate comrades." He also expresses anxiety at the passage of the new Conscription Bill, as he "will have to remain two years longer if the war lasts that long." Two weeks later, however, Booth was wounded and never returned to the battlefield. After a lengthy convalescence, he was deemed unfit for further duty in August of 1862. He did not receive a formal discharge.
Condition Report: Some letters with toning, brittleness, and minor tears.