The Honey Man

Chapter XVIII

     George Calvin of the Russell community has long been one of Lucas county’s “honey men” - having cultivated bees for more than 40 years.  His father, Alexander M. Calvin came from Mercer County Pennsylvania in 1868 bought a house and lot in Russell for $305, than bought 80 acres of land east of Russell for $13.75 per acre.  He later moved the house to the farm, built an addition to it and set out a number of walnut trees.

     When the second railroad track was laid by what is now the Burlington railroad, the laborers boarded at the Calvin home.  George Calvin was born, grew up in this house and he and Mrs. Calvin live there today.  A few years ago the walnut trees began dying and Mr. Calvin had them made into furniture.  They yielded a bed, chest, vanity and desk - all beautifully crafted and exquisitely finished by Walter Thorne of Russell.

     Mr. and Mrs. Calvin have loaned to this writer a box of letters written by Mr. Calvin’s father during his tour of duty in the Civil War.  The following paragraphs are made up of excerpts from these letters carefully selected and faithfully reproduced for their value in revealing the times, the attitudes and the living conditions of the people and the soldiers during that war.  Alexander M. Calvin was in First Reg. Pa. Vol. Co. R.

Cumberland, Maryland

Camp Howe

July 1863

Dear Sister:

     I have just come in off picket duty and we were called for inspection of arms.  My gun, among a great many, was not bright enough and we were put on duty again.  I think some allowance should have been made for the pickets who had been out and no chance to clean their guns properly.  I do not intend to be put on duty again for having a dirty gun if I can help it.  We have three rebel soldiers at the guard house who deserted from Gen. Picketts Division.  They have seen hard times.  They gave us a great deal of information about the south.  They say they have seen enough of the rebel service.  There is one church in this place - a Presbyterian, made up principally of secesh (secessionists) but their pastor was such a good Union man that they could not stand him any longer so they turned him off.  He now belongs to the Second Maryland Reg. as Chaplain.  The rebel deserters left for Camp Chace with 15 or 16 others, mostly deserters.  I bought them 22 cents worth of paper, ink, pen, envelopes and stamps.  James Mitchell, the most intelligent one, wanted to send a letter to his father in the extreme southern part of Virginia.  He is 80 years old, a Union man, owns a large farm and lives under a flag of truce.  They think the rebels may perhaps be able to hold out this year but no longer.  From them we learned the prices of things down south.  Sugar is $1 a pound; coffee not to be had; flour $40 a barrel; fresh beef $1 a pound; tobacco $4 or $5 a pound.  I asked them what they were fighting for.  They said they could not answer.  They had voted against the ordinance of secession, they were true Union men and always had been but were forced into the service and had to obey the commands of their superior officers.  Thus we can see something of the power of delusion over the hearts of men but I think it is not the case with the North.  I think most of us know something about the nature of our cause.  Yes, we have unmistakable evidence of the power of this abominable tyrant (secession) against the rights and liberties of mankind.  It is to crush out this arch enemy that we are fighting.  We are fighting for the Union and the preservation of those rights and institutions which our forefathers purchased with their blood and bade us protect.

     We left Camp Howe and marched to Wheeling - arrived dirty as coal diggers.  We sent two men out for grub.  After going to the third house they got 10 cents worth of donuts for 20 cents.  This partially satisfied us and we lay down to sleep.  We had a very heavy rain and were caught in a flood.  These mountains are made of rocks and water and a hard rain brings a flood.  I had washed my socks and a shirt and hung them out.  The water began to rise and we tried to save our things but could not.  I was sorry to lose my socks.

     August 1863.  This is our week for picket duty.  I do not go out till the last of the week.  I have just gathered a mess of roasting ears.  Colonel Linenger is a smallish man with black whiskers.  His profession was school teaching and as such he has a good reputation.  A few years ago he was an honorable member of the Presbyterian Church but since that he has got to drinking and swearing a little, which has destroyed his moral character.  I have got this from soldiers who were well acquainted with him.  I should like very much to come home and see you all but it would cost nearly as much as all my wages and I don’t suppose I could get a furlough.  My uniform is not going to last near the six months out - some of it is coming unsewed.  It is uncertain when we will get our pay.  I thought a while ago that I would rather pay almost any sum than serve out . . All I ask of you is to remember to pray earnestly for me and write often . . .   September 1863.  I had to go to Martinsburg yesterday with prisoners (seven of us took 20).  When we came back to the depot, who should we meet but Clement Humphrey.  He is First Lt. in the 12^th Pa. Cavalry and was dressed in a very fine military suit and was smoking a cigar with all the dignity of a Major.  He is a good looking officer and I have no doubt would be a good one if he had the brains . . .  I now take my pen in hand to write a few lines.  My shoes have pretty near gone to pieces.  The leather is good but they rip.  I believe it will cost a good deal to sew them up, I believe I would get a good pair of boots if I had the money.  I thought I would make my shoes last a month or two longer but I have already spent 25 cents on them.  The company had an opportunity of drawing extra clothes - an overcoat was all I told them to put to my name.  We have all been furnished Testaments by the post Chaplain.  I have endeavored to perform my duty faithfully as a soldier.  I have felt that I was engaged in a useless, unholy war . . .  I think of myself as being a soldier in the army of the King of Kings.  My spiritual life is not degenerating . . .  my love of God and desire to do his will is as strong as ever.  It is hard for a Christian to maintain a truly Godly profession in the army unless they have a strong faith and hope well grounded on the Rock of Ages.  I have had time to think when I have lain awake or been on the picket duty during the silent hours of the night - the brightest display of the power and wisdom of our Creator - which never slumbers.

     October 1863. I seat myself once more to talk to you a little through the medium of the pen.  What a wonderful thing the pen is!  What great issues it brings about and what mysteries it unfolds!  Considering the time in a general sense, what would we have been without it?  There is one thing especially which I want you to remember - that is pray for me and our country.  Pray for me that the God of Hosts will be my shield and protector, that his grace would be sufficient for me and that his strength would be perfect in my weakness and that I may be enabled to maintain my Christian profession untarnished amidst so much wickedness and discouragement.  Pray for our country that God would have mercy upon us and cause war and bloodshed to cease, that He would exert His mighty power in our behalf and bring unto us peace and prosperity once more.  Prayer is the weapon by which victory is to be gained.

     Since I wrote last, we have got our dinners of bean soup and bread and I made some tea of what was sent me with my overcoat . . . we have potatoes three meals, molasses for three and tea twice since we came out.  I am about as hungry for some mush and milk as anything I can think of.  I am about out of money.  I had borrowed one dollar from Anderson but I paid him back with the money you sent and I bought a 65 cent razor.  Yesterday Bill Nelson and I got a pass and went out and I bought a pound of butter for 50 cents and I tell you it tasted good with our bread and meat and coffee.  It took all my money but five cents.  I do not like to send for money but I cannot do well without a little.  Don’t forget to write and often.

     Camp Reynolds 1864.  It seems uncertain whether we will leave this place at all until we are assigned to other regiments.  I believe all those drafted in our company expected to pay their fines rather than serve out - unless it is James Carpenter.  He has been on picket for over two months.  It seems to me there is some injustice . . . Perhaps we have been deceived.  The future looks sad and dreary.  If I could only get into a moral temperate company it would not be so bad.  I could enjoy the blessing of a Chaplain but they are scarce in our armies, it seems to me.

     Camp Reynolds November 1864.  Yesterday was Thanksgiving Day in Camp Reynolds and the subsistence committee furnished all the men in camp with a very good dinner - bread, butter, cakes, pies, cheese, tomatoes, cabbage, turkey, boiled ham, pickles, apples and coffee.  I was on guard last Saturday.  All I had to do during the week was haul coal one day.  I am looking for a letter from home today.  The mail just came in and there was none for me.  I feel disappointed.  I would like a letter every day.

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