Privates of the 13th Maine Infantry
'Tis nothing. A private or two now and then, Will not count in the news of the battle..."

Company K, 13th Maine Infantry Regiment
Privates of the 13th Maine Infantry Regiment

The men of the 13th Maine included about 920 who enlisted as regular privates, 19 as musicians  and 28 as cooks.

At least 136 of these privates were promoted to higher non-commissioned or commissioned officer assignments.

Approximately 95% of the men have been identified on one of more census reports. Many people have sent me genealogical data, pictures, letter transcripts, etc. Information on the type and amount of information I have is found in the page about biographical and genealogical information which indicates the number of relatives identified, sources, pensions, demographics, etc.  A sampling of the privates for whom we have considerable biographical information, photos and copies of documents include:

Amos P. Bean
Eli N. Blagden
Jeremiah L., John M. and Luther P. Goodale
Andrew B. Gordon
Thomas M. Gray
Llewelyn P. Howes
Fairfield and Fifield Ireland
Isaac H. James
Isaac Johnson
Frank A. Jordan
Edwin B. Lufkin
William D. Mason
Leander E. Maxim
Dustin McAllister
Jeremiah Osgood
Edwin R. Small


Privates are the men who do most of the work of the army and suffer the greatest privations and horrors with little of the accolade and recognition. The song "All is Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight" seems to express this poignant sentiment most strongly...
"All quiet along the Potomac," they say,
Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
'Tis nothing. A private or two now and then
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost. Only one of the men
Moaning out all alone the death rattle.

All quiet along the Potomac tonight,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming,
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
O'er the light of the watch fires, are gleaming;
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two in the low trundle bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain.

His musket falls slack, and his face, dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep,
For their mother, may Heaven defend her.
The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then
That night when the love yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips when low-murmured vows
Were pledged to be ever unbroken.

Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun closer up to its place
As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
The footstep is lagging and weary;
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Toward the shades of the forest so dreary.

Hark! Was it the night wind that rustled the leaves?
Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looks like a rifle -- "Ah! Mary, good-bye!"
And the lifeblood is ebbing and splashing.
All quiet along the Potomac tonight,
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead --
The picket's off duty forever.

At least we are able now to recognize many of these men.


Pvt. Frank A. Jordan, Co. A
(Courtesy of Tom MacDonald)
The Ireland twins of Co. B
Pvt. Fairfield - Pvt. Fifield
(Courtesy of Harriette C. Gordon & Muriel I. Carpenter, Skowhegan, Maine)
Jeremiah Osgood
Amos P. Bean
(Courtesy of Jennifer Bartlau his g-g-g-granddaughter)
Thomas M. Gray
(Courtesy of Tom MacDonald, Eustis, Maine)
Edwin R. Small
(Courtesy of Tom MacDonald, Eustis, Maine)