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Powers, George Roscoe


Age: 19, credited to Morristown, VT
Unit(s): 3rd VT INF
Service: enl 6/1/61, m/i 7/16/61, CPL, Co. E, 3rd VT INF, d/dis 2/1/62

See Legend for expansion of abbreviations


Birth: 08/19/1843, Unknown
Death: 02/01/1862

Burial: Riverside Cemetery, Morrisville, VT
Marker/Plot: 1
Gravestone researcher/photographer: Denis & Karen Jaquish
Findagrave Memorial #: 60077175


Alias?: None noted
Pension?: Unknown
Portrait?: Unknown
College?: Not Found
Veterans Home?: Not Found
(If there are state digraphs above, this soldier spent some time in a state or national soldiers' home in that state after the war)

Remarks: None


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Copyright notice



Riverside Cemetery, Morrisville, VT

Check the cemetery for location/directions and other veterans who may be buried there.

George R. Powers


The following letter written to Dr. Powers, of Morrisville, who has kindly allowed us to publish it, explains itself. It shows that the things sent are appreciated:


Dear Father and Mother:

I take this opportunity of informing you, of the safe arrival of the box you sent us. Perhaps it might interest you to know how it was received by us; I will give you a description of the scene as nearly as I can. Wednesday evening, just before roll call, found me sitting in my tent, smoking and thinking of home and you, when a friend came to my tent door and informed me I had a box at the Quartermaster's. Upon receiving this intelligence I jumped out of my tent, and not waiting for my cap, started for the Quartermaster's not on "double quick,' but a "dead run." Upon arriving there I found the box was too much for me, so I got a friend who happened to stand near to help me. After placing it in my tent, I took an axe, and, all impatience to see the contents, attempted to take off the cover, but I found that your prudence in nailing it on was so great that it baffled all my attempts to get it off. After trying in vain about five minutes, some of the boys as impatient as myself, took hold and helped me, and we succeeded at last in splitting it off, but not until I had come to the conclusion that you did not have me there to to use up your nails, for if I had been, I think you would have been more saving of what you had left. After taking off the cover we proceded to examine the contents. The first thing that met our gaze was a woolen blanket for Geo. Drown. George seemed well pleased with it; in fact, it was just the thing he needed. Next we came to the boots. We each picked out our own, and sat down to try them on. I found mine to be an exact fit, and as for quality, I found them much better than I expected. Bugbee's and Story's were a good fit, and we all complimented Mr. Dumas highly for doing so well by us. After trying on the boots, and discussing their merits to our satisfaction, we proceeded to explore further into the mystery of the box. Now before I had opened the box I had my brags that I should have a turkey or chicken for breakfast. By this time our tent was full of boys all anxious to get a peep, and some were expecting articles for themselves. The next thing that met our gaze was the boiled eggs. Now as these were not marked, it was a matter of dispute to us who they belonged to. Geo. Drown said he thought the eggs belonged to him, as he had written his wife to send him some. On the other hand, I told him I thought they belonged to me, and told him I was expecting a baked turkey or chicken, and it was nothing more than reasonable for me to suppose that my baked chicken had improved the opportunity on the road to lay me a few boiled eggs. While we were thus discussing the matter, each producing what arguments in his own favor he could, we happened to look around, and there sat Story and Bugbee in one corner, with faces as long as your arm, quietly eating the eggs. We dropped the discussion at once, and came to the conclusion that they belonged to the Co. in general, and each helped himself accordingly. After eating the eggs we each picked out our small box as directed. I opened the sack and the first thing I came across was a --- well, I must confess, for the life of me I could not tell what it was intended for! I first thought it must be something to wear on my feet, but it could not be that, for there was only one. Next I thought of a money purse, but it could not be that for it was too large. About everyone in the tent suggested something, but nothing seemed satisfactory. At last one more observing than the rest (perhaps it might be well to say he was a married man), said that he knew what it was --- that it was a cap! That seemed to be the final decision, and acting upon the suggestion, I put it on. We then returned to the box again, and pulled out gloves, mittens, woolen shirts, socks and blankets --- in fact everything to make a soldier's life comfortable. We were getting toward the bottom, and I could not see anything of the chicken. The boys began to joke me for not finding it, and at last reached the bottom and found "nary chick."

The boys were pretty loud in their jests and remarks about it, and I confess I felt a little mortified to think I said so much about it; but at last, while looking over the small box of provisions I espied the much looked for chicken. It then came my turn to brag; and seizing the fowl by the walking sticks, brandished it over my head, and the way the boys vanished was a caution. Whether it was the sight of such a thing as a chicken in camp, or my appearance, that scared them I am unable to tell: but think it must be the latter, as I had on the cap, and my appearance must have been comical, if not as frightful as that of "Vandal and his Havelock." After looking over the contents to our satisfaction, we replaced them and turned in for the night, and were soon in the embrace of "Old Morpheus." dreaming of friends and the "land of pumpkin pies."

There is no news of importance. We're expecting to move this week. I am unable to tell where we shall go. There is a report that we shall got to Fortress Monroe and I am inclined to believe it, but there is nothing certain about it. I am well as usual. All the rest of the boys are in their usual health.

Your affectionate son,

Geo. R. Powers


Lamoille NewsDealer: Feb. 7, 1862


Our community has been called to mourn the the loss of one that gallant little band that left the peaceful retreats of a Vermont home, for the seat of war in June last. George R. Powers, Corporal on Co. E. 3rd Regiment Vt. Volunteers, died at his fathers residence, in Morrisville, on Saturday last, of diptheria. He was taken sick at Camp Griffin, and went into the regimental hospital on the last day of January. At first, his disease did not assume a malignant form, and he appeared to be doing well for some days after he went to the hospital. He wrote his parents that he would soon again be at his post; but the anxiety that none but parents can feel for a child, prompted his father to visit him; and accordingly as soon as the news of his illness reached home, his father started for Camp Griffin, remained with George seven days, and then, having the kind assistance of Dr. Janes, the surgeon, and Col. Hyde, procured a furlough for his son for thirty days, started home with him. The journey home seemed to improve him very much; but alas, the disease was to firmly seated to be removed. The care and ministrations of loving parents and kind friends, were of no avail and on Saturday morning after an illness of just one month he died.

His funeral was attended on Tuesday last, by a vast concourse of people; and as he laid in his coffin holding in his hand the flag that had cost him his life to defend, the mourning congregation made many a firm resolve that a cause that George could die for, they (patriotically only) would live for.

He was a young man of good habits and abilities, and by his jovial manner and conversations, won many friends; and this was true of him from his earliest years. His classmates never had a quarrel with him. He always rendered implicit obedience to his duty. He was among the first to enlist in Capt. Blanchard's company, and by his conduct in battle at Lewinsville showed that he had all the elements of a true soldier. His company, exposed to a raking fire of shells for half an hour by their conduct won the highest commendations of Gen. Smith, and no one among them acted more manfully then did George Powers. But he has gone- a noble sacrifice to a noble cause. Let us all with renewed courage stand firm by the flag which he has died for.

Submitted by Deanna French.