I broke off, last night, at this point, and now it is Sunday
morning, before breakfast. A bright, glowing morning, with mists rising from
the river and hills, promising a hot day. The Doctor is at the door of my
bower, as he calls it, beckoning me away to breakfast. The Doctor's servant got
hold of some whiskey, the other night, which had been seized from a
secessionist, and got crazy drunk with it. He roused the whole camp. He had
gone off in the woods, and suddenly fancied himself commanding an army, and
made the woods resound with “forward,” “charge bayonets,” &c., &c. He
had to be tied and gagged, which made an incident for the late evening. The
Doctor* is now reproving him with copious satire. “Peas on the trencher,” or
breakfast-call, is beating. I will go to breakfast, and later, will wind up my
story
You say that the three months' men ought not to come back.
Yes they ought, unless in the presence of immediate duty. You cannot expect
anything else. But it was a big blunder having three months' men. The law is at
fault, not the men. Human nature is not such an exalted thing that you can
expect men to move by regiments, and at a double-quick, in the path of duty and
self-sacrifice. Here and there one, but not armies, move voluntarily in
that direction. Impulse is transitory. Continued and sustained hard work,
hunger and discomfort are not palatable.
_______________
* Lucius Manlius Sargent, Jr, then Surgeon of the Second
Massachusetts Infantry, afterwards Lieutenant-Colonel of the Second
Massachusetts Cavalry. In a “most gallant charge” upon the enemy, near
Bellefield, Virginia, he fell mortally wounded on the 9th of December, 1864.
SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and
Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 71-2
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