Norwich, Conn.
September 12th, 1862.
My own dear Son:
You see I am following out my resolution to write you every
day, although I have many doubts about your receiving one half the letters I
write. There is a great dearth of news. Pope's report with its censures is
exciting remark, and I trust the country will demand a full investigation as
soon as the public necessity will permit. Jeff Davis' Proclamation is highly
entertaining in view of past acts; however, that we care little about, his
words are nothing. I wish I knew where you are, and where the last turn in the
wheel has placed you. I suppose Gen. Stevens' part in the last battles,
together with that of his Division, can never be known. It is specially hard,
because his gallantry and the splendid fighting done by his troops, were in the
first accounts acknowledged.
The death of young Matteson I feel sorely on your account.
It seems as though the storm had swept over you; your General killed, friends
wounded or ill. I stop and think: "What am I that God should so preserve
the precious life of my son? Should guard his health, should guide his steps?
May I be grateful as I ought, may I be more trustful."
We have so hoped we might see you, that Hunt and Mary have
had a room furnished in the wing, hoping you would be the first to occupy it.
SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters
of William Thompson Lusk, p. 195-6
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