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While researching my father’s native American ancestry, I had been contacted by a researcher in Minnesota, who had information about my great-grandfather’s first wife. In her correspondence, she referenced a tribal census. I asked her where she got that information, and she told me about how she and her husband had taken a week’s vacation and traveled to Washington DC and spent the week going through the Indian records at the National Archives.

Well, here I am in Maryland, and the commuter train station is literally ten minutes from my house, and the round-trip to Washington is only $20. Naturally, I did my homework online first, so I knew what to expect when I got there, with regard to security, what I could carry with me, what indexes I would need, etc. The next day that I was off from work, I hopped on the train and went to Washington.

The National Archives Building is a brisk walk from Union Station. After going through the security check and signing in, I spent the first few hours wading through the microfilm archives of my father’s tribal censuses, and I printed a few to bring home. Most of the people in the microfilm library were researching military records, and I overheard the librarians explaining the various indexes. So I decided I might as well see if I could find anything on Martin Shaffner, the brother of my great-great-grandfather, who was killed in the Civil War. Searching through the Pennsylvania Civil War records, I found the index card for Martin Shaffner of the 17th Cavalry and discovered that Martin’s father, Frederick Shaffner, had applied for Martin’s pension. The pension application was on file in the National Archives and available for study!

Unlike the tribal documents that I had been researching on microfilm, now I was about to request access to original documents. As you can imagine, the process to see original documents is considerably more stringent than the microfilm library. I had to go through another security process, which involved watching a video presentation, to obtain a photo Researcher ID. To request the documents, I had to fill out a research form with the name, catalog number, etc, and submit it, then wait (one to two hours is the norm) for the librarians to pull the file. I took the time to walk over to the Smithsonian for lunch. Back at the Archives Building, after I went through another security check, they handed me a big envelope and assigned me to a desk.

I had no idea what to expect. As I carefully turned over paper after paper, I found quite a variety. In addition to official papers from the War Department regarding Martin’s service in the War of the Rebellion, Frederick submitted various notarized letters, tax records, and legal briefs to support his dependency claim. It was obvious that Frederick was illiterate. None of it was in his own handwriting, although some of the documents did have his “signature” which was mostly a scribble. The rest of the documents had his X witnessed by someone else. Some of the documents, like the ones from the lawyer or the court, were typed. Others, like the ones from his pastor and other businessmen, were handwritten on paper that absolutely resembles a school tablet, rather than stationary. You can imagine my reaction when I flipped over a paper and found a letter from Martin himself.

I paused for a moment in awe, in joy, and in sadness. As I carefully went through the rest of the file, I found a total of seven letters that Martin had writtin home to his father. I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I had the sense that these papers were part of our family history, and I was saddened that they were hidden away in the National Archives. On the other hand, I realized that, if they hadn’t been held by the Archives, the chances are pretty good that they would have ended up in somebody’s attic and probably lost altogether.

Nevertheless, I’m fairly certain that I was the first person to view these papers since Frederick had submitted them to the War Department more than a hundred years ago. Martin’s letters were all written on card-size military stationary, with the name of his unit printed at the top of the first page. Most of them were legible, although some were faded, and I didn’t think they would photocopy very well. So I picked three and transcribed them word-for-word as best I could. The letters are all written in the same hand, but I don’t know if they were, in fact, written by Martin himself, or if they were dictated to a company scribe. It struck me odd that the letters were signed with his first and last name, Martin Shaffner, but I don’t know if that was required of military correspondence, or just normal etiquette at the time.

When I got home I wanted to add them to the webpage, so I reproduced them exactly as they were written. The only thing I changed was the period at the end of sentences. The actual letters contain virtually no punctuation. Remarkably, the letters fit right into the narrative that I had already written. When you read the webpage, you might think that I took the letters, then added the narrative around them. But it actually went the other way.

I had written about their first camp at Washington, and there was the letter from Washington. I had written about their battle with Jackson, and there was his letter written right after the battle with Jackson. I had written about their winter quarters in Virginia, and there was his letter from winter quarters. The one thing I did photocopy was the original design for Martin’s headstone, which I also transcribed on the webpage.

» Read my biography of Martin Shaffner.

Tags: Genealogy //