From the Archives: George Culver Fought for the Union

It was 150 years ago, on April 12, 1861, that a bomb bursting over Fort Sumter in South Carolina signaled the start of America’s Civil War.

The many bloody battles of that terrible conflict took place far from Long Island where, as James Truslow Adams observes in his history of Southampton, its effects “were felt solely through the fortunes of those who left their homes and went into the fighting forces on land and sea.”

One of those patriots was George Culver (1839-1912), son of Merritt and Caroline Marshall Culver who owned a farm on the corner of Pond Lane and Culver Hill in Southampton; the street is named after them. George Culver had a carriage shop nearby on Hill Street.

This family background was provided by his grandsons, George and Walter Culver, whose donation of an unbroken series of their grandfather’s letters, written to his sister in Orient while he was serving in the Union army, is now in the ’s archives. George Culver was a member of the 127th New York Volunteers, a regiment raised under the three-year call of 1862. Most of the men were Long Islanders with the remainder hailing from New York City.

The regiment was mustered into the U.S. service on Staten Island on Sept. 8, 1862, and two days later left for Washington. In his first letter to his sister, Jane C. Hubbard, Culver told of the two-day trip to the capital by “cars and boat” and the 10-mile march that followed. For the fledgling soldiers, the night-time trek, burdened by some 40 pounds of arms and provisions, was an arduous introduction to military life.

“Several fainted on the way but I stood it very well,” wrote Culver, showing a pride in his own endurance and an uncomplaining acceptance of hardship that would shine through all his letters. A man who “fell dead on the way” after bursting a blood vessel may have had only himself to blame, suggests Culver, since his canteen was reportedly filled with rum.

In the days that follow, as his company takes up various positions, Culver gives his sister a picture of war that is all hardship and little battlefield action, a life of hard labor from which there is little respite.

“I was on guard last Saturday night and slept on the ground in the open air between two wet blankets,” he writes in October, 1862. He reflects wistfully on the comforts of Southampton.

“I often think of father’s hoghouse and wish I had as good a place to sleep,” he confides.

He writes that during the day, the men are kept busy “cutting down wood and digging rifle pits to strengthen our position. We don’t know but we will be attacked here before long but I don’t think there is much danger.”

Culver wrote the last of his wartime letters to Jane on June 14, 1865. Two weeks later, on June 30, he was mustered out in New York, one of the lucky ones. Originally 1,000-strong, the 127th  returned with just 555 survivors. Of the dead, 35 had been killed in action but fully 95 were victims not of enemy fire but of disease and other causes. Like them, Culver had suffered from exposure and a poor diet and had been hospitalized at one point despite his determination to perform his duties even in sickness. Carried through by a remarkable strength of purpose and optimism about the war’s outcome, he remained uncomplaining to the end.

Sources in the Southampton Historical Museum Archives: Letters of George Culver to Jane C. Hubbard, September 15, 1862 to June 14, 1865; “History of the Town of Southampton” by James Truslow Adams.