Oneonta Herald, Oneonta, NY, January 22, 1862
Civil War Letter from Benjamin B. Comstock, 12th Wisconsin Infantry
Camp Randall, Wis., Jan. 8th, 1862
Many long and anxious weeks have passed since I wrote you. Rainy and chilly November has given way to December snows and December in turn has swept by on the blast and in her train has come a new month and a new year, and still the 12th Wisconsin Regiment remain in Camp Randall, wasting their strength, lounging away their time, and nursing and reserving their wrath for rebels in Secessia, but pouring it out without stint or reserve upon the powers that be, for detaining them here in a forty acre lot, in a land of peace. We are spending the winter in tents and find them very comfortable in all weather, nevertheless, we regard the "tented field" as a very good joke.
After many promises, and equal number of privations and long delay, we received our pay on the 3d inst. in bright new Treasury notes and on the following day, thousands of dollars and many New Year's gifts and tokens of affection were speeding on their way to absent friends, while many little comforts and luxuries were cheering the tent of the soldier. And how little of worldly cheer it takes to make him happy while waiting and watching for his country's weal!
There are at present in Camp Randall about two thousand and five hundred men, comprising the 12th, 15th and 16th Regiments. The 12th and 16th are fully armed and equipped and ready for service. The 15th, a Scandinavian Regiment is recruiting rapidly.
There is a healthy, moral and religious influence in camp. A regimental church, composed of members of all orthodox churches, has been formed and numbers seventy-five members and often the Reverend Captain in gilt and broadcloth and the private in his coarse blouse, occupy the same desk and speak to us of the "things that accompany salvation."
A Sabbath in camp is not what it is in country homes or yet in our towns and villages. In the thousands of men who inhabit our crowded canvas city; every temperament and shade of character are represented and when the Sabbath comes, releasing them from drill and fatiguing duty, each one seeks to enjoy himself in his own way, unrestrained by the customs of society and caring not a fig for "what Mrs. Grundy may say."
But the music of the camp! How shall I describe it? Or what shall I say of those golden evening hours of song, hallowed to everyone who remembers childhood, the old family Bible and the music of the household; hours when the tired and listless soldier flings himself upon his straw to repose, while his thoughts fly backward, far backward to distant friends and more pleasing associations; hours when memory visits the soul with balm and refreshing, and Hope points forward to a better future. 'Tis then that music is in the heart if ever and it will swell to the lips and pour forth every joy and sorrow, desire and emotion in song. From one tent swells "The Red White and Blue," and "Dixie for the Union," from another in tender tones comes the trite old song "Do they miss me at home." Here a dozen voices join in some religious hymn, generally with a spirit stirring chorus, such as "Homeward Bound," "Come Sing to me of Heaven," and "Come thou Fount of Every Blessing," while a clear voice in the distance echoes the notes of "Marching along." As this is our marching song, I will transcribe it for publication, hoping that many soldiers will see it, sing it and take courage. The words are slightly altered from a hymn in the September number of the "Young Reaper."
The armies are gathering from near and from far / The trumpet is sounding the call for the war: / The conflict is raging, 'twill be fearful and long; / Well gird on the armor and be marching along.
Marching along, we are marching along; / Gird on the armor and be marching along; / The conflict is raging, 'twill be fearful and long, / Then gird on the armor and be marching along.
The foe is before us in battle array, / But let us not waver nor turn from the way; / The Lord is our strength, be this our song; / With courage and faith we are marching along.
Marching along, &c.
We list for the war and we'll camp on the field, / With Right for our watchword, we never will yield, / The sword of the Union both tausty and strang, / We'll hold in our hand as we're marching along.
Marching along, &c.
Though night thick with dangers hangs over our way, / Soon the morning will dawn on a glorious day; Then onward to conquer and shout the glad song; in God will be triumph while marching along.
Marching along, &c.
On Monday, the Governor elect of this State was inaugurated. the 12th and 16th were out fully armed and equipped. The inaugural exercises were brief and without ceremony. The oath was administered by the Chief Justice on the porch of the Capitol. Then Gov. Randall in a very pertinent speech took leave of the people and the public station he had filled so long and well and introduced his successor, Gov. L.P. Harvey, who made a few remarks to the soldiers, after which the band played the Marseillaise, the cannon roared and we went back to camp, escorting the Governor and suit, who dined with our officers.
On Saturday the 11th inst., we are ordered to strike our tents and start for Kansas, to join Jim Lanes division. If anything turns up, you will hear from Comstock. [Benjamin B. Comstock]
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Benjamin B.. Comstock, originally from Laurens, Otsego Co. NY, enlisted 21 Sept. 1861 as a private in Company A, 12th Wisconsin Infantry Regiment. Died of disease in Humbolt, TN 17 July 1862. Originally buried in Humbolt, TN. Later buried Corinth National Cemetery, Corinth, Alcom County, Mississippi, findagrave.com memorial #3176278.
Oneonta Herald, Oneonta, NY, July 30, 1862
Died near Humboldt, Tennessee of fever contracted while camping in a swamp, Benjamin B Comstock of Laurens, Otsego Co. N.Y.
"By feeble hands their shallow graves were made; / No stone memorial o'er their corpses laid, / In barren lands and far from home they lie, / No friend to shed a tear when passing by.
Soldiers Budget, Humbolt, TN
Soldier's Death roll: Benjamin B. Comstock, a member of Co. A 12th Reg't Wis. Vols, departed this life on July 17th inst., and was interred near Humboldt, Tennessee. He was a native of New York, but had spent a few years in the west. Twenty-four years old when he died noble-hearted and patriotic, beloved by his, held as a standard of knowledge and purity he died as the Christian death, calm, peaceful and serene. Long had he been a soldier in the cause of his Lord and Master, and had labored all his life, not for mere selfish ends, but for the good of his fellow men. Murmuring "all is well," he passed away. 22 July 1862.
When he was reinterred, the crew found a looking glass with him and his name was carved into a tree at the head of the grave.
