Diary of Musician David Lane, April 13, 1863

Lebanon, April 13th, 1863.

We have lost our favorite commander, Brigadier General Poe. He is promoted to captain in the regular service, and delivered his farewell address early yesterday morning. He has won the confidence and esteem of every man in the brigade, and they deeply regret his loss. It was his disobedience of orders that saved the First Brigade from slaughter at Fredericksburg. His disobedience led to his promotion. In appearance he is just the man I would select from among a thousand for a bandit chief.

We had a riffle of excitement yesterday in camp. Early in the morning the Eighteenth and Twenty-second Michigan Regiments were ordered to leave for Murfreesboro, Tennessee. The officers of these regiments, in common with others, have employed negroes as servants. Kentucky is violently opposed to the President's Emancipation Proclamation. Here was a fine opportunity for a Kentucky General to show the "Abolitionists" that his state was not included in that pronunciamento. As the Eighteenth was about to board the cars, General Manson, commander of this post, ordered them to halt and deliver up all negroes in the regiment. Upon inquiry it was found that all, except one, were Kentucky negroes, and were given up. This did not satisfy; he must have the free man also. The Sixteenth Kentucky Infantry and the Twelfth Kentucky Cavalry are doing post duty here. These General Manson ordered to form in line of battle, and again demanded the surrender of the negro. But Michigan was not to be intimidated. Colonel Doolittle resolutely refused, formed his men for battle with loaded guns and fixed bayonets, and defiantly bade the Kentuckian to "come and take him." Not caring to attack with only two to one, General Manson sent for the Seventy-ninth New York to come and help him, but the gallant Colonel of that regiment replied: "I am not fighting Michigan men." In the meantime General Burnside had been telegraphed for orders. He replied: "I have nothing to do with it." Colonel Doolittle then telegraphed the War Department, and is now awaiting orders. The Eighteenth lay with their arms beside them all last night, apprehensive of an attack. They kept the negro.

We have a fine camping ground, nearly as good as at Newport News. The brigade is encamped in the form of a square. There is a spring of water in the center. In our front is the City of Lebanon, a place nearly as large as Jackson, and old enough in appearance to have been built in the middle ages. On our right and left are splendid farms, on which negro slaves are busily engaged plowing and planting. In our rear is a piece of timber from which we supply ourselves with fuel. We have thickly planted the borders of our streets with evergreen trees, which not only gives our camp a picturesque appearance, but affords a comfortable shade these hot, sultry days.

Our stay here depends entirely on the movements of the Rebels. We are here to protect the loyal people of Kentucky from guerillas; also to support Rosencrans should his rear be threatened by way of Cumberland Gap. The Ninth Corps is separated into fragments; the Third Division is in Virginia; the First and Second are in Kentucky, a brigade in a place, but so situated they can be quickly concentrated at a given point. Doubtless it is pleasant, this lying in camp with nothing to do but drill and play ball, which is all the rage just now, but it is not satisfying. It may do for regulars, who have so long a time to serve, but for volunteers who enlisted to do a given amount of work, would like to do that work and go home to their families.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 39-41

Diary of Musician David Lane, April 30, 1863

Columbia, Ky., April 30th, 1863.

At the date of my last entry—the 26th inst.—I had seen no indication of a move. We retired that night at the usual hour, and just as I was dropping off to sleep the order came: "Be ready to march tomorrow morning at five o'clock with two days' rations." It came like a "clap of thunder from a cloudless sky," surprising both officers and men. Our officers had formed numerous and pleasant associations with Kentucky's fair daughters, and it was with many regrets they were compelled to leave their agreeable society for the stern duties of the field. But military orders are inexorable as fate, and at precisely a quarter to five the bugle sounded "fall in," and at five we were on the move, bound for Columbia, forty miles away.

The weather is warm and pleasant now, but the burning heat of a Southern summer is close upon us. A forced march was before us, with no teams to carry our luggage. We could not carry all our winter clothing, therefore hundreds of good blankets and overcoats were thrown away. When we had marched three or four miles many of the men found they still had too much load, and then the work of lightening up began in earnest. For miles the road was strewn with blankets, dress coats, blouses, pants, drawers and shirts. In fact enough clothing was thrown away for Rebels to pick up to supply a whole brigade. No wonder so many Rebel regiments are dressed in our uniforms. As for myself, I was determined to stay by my goods, if I could not carry them. As a matter of fact I carried load enough that day to down a mule, and feel none the worse for it. We marched to Campbellville, twenty miles, and camped for the night. We were expected to cover the entire distance in two days, but fully one-half of the brigade were so utterly used up it was found to be impossible. We only made nine miles the second day, and camped at Green River. Here the Eighth Michigan and Seventy-ninth New York were ordered to remain; the Seventeenth was ordered to Columbia and the Twentieth to the Cumberland, forty miles beyond.

Lieutenant Colonel Luce is Provost Marshal of this district, and we are detailed to do provost duty. Colonel Luce's orders are: "Protect government property, keep good order in the town, arrest all disloyal citizens and report to headquarters every day." This part of the state has been much infested by guerillas, and we expect lively times.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 41-3

Diary of Musician David Lane, February 15, 1863

We are now on the “heaving sea and the bounding wave.” We were aroused yesterday morning at four o'clock, ordered to prepare breakfast and be ready to march at a minute's notice. At five-thirty the bugle sounded "fall in." We slung our accoutrements, the first time since the battle of Fredericksburg, and in fifteen minutes were en route to the depot, distance about two miles. After some delay we took cars for Aquia Creek, where we arrived at 10 o'clock a. m., and were immediately transferred to transports, bound for Fortress Monroe. The Seventy-ninth New York and Seventeenth Michigan were crowded on the North America, an old Hudson River propeller. There was hardly standing room, much less room to walk about. The day is fine, and the bay, unruffled by a breeze, presents a lively and picturesque appearance. Steamers are continually arriving and departing, sailboats of all sorts and sizes spread their white wings and glide leisurely through the still waters, while the active little tugs go whisking and snorting here and there, assisting larger and more unwieldly vessels. We left Aquia Creek at 10:30 o'clock a. m., expecting to reach the Fortress by nine o'clock next morning. I love the sea in all its forms and phases, and it was with a thrill of joy I took my seat on deck, prepared to enjoy whatever of interest might present itself. The Potomac, at Aquia Creek, is truly a noble stream, if stream it may be called, for there is no perceptible current, being, I judge, one and one-half miles wide, gradually broadening out as it nears the bay, until at its mouth it is nine miles wide. There is a striking contrast between the Maryland and Virginia shores. The Virginia side, nearly the entire distance, presents a rugged, mountainous aspect, with very few buildings in view, while the Maryland shore is level, dotted with farm buildings, and, at frequent intervals a village with its church spires glittering in the sun. In contemplating these peaceful scenes of rural life, the quiet farm houses surrounded by groves of trees, the well-tilled fields, outbuildings and fences undisturbed by war's desolating hand, the genial air of quiet repose that pervades the scene calls up emotions that have long lain dormant. For many long months, which seems as many years, my eyes have become inured to scenes of blood, of desolation and of ruin; to cities and villages laid waste and pillaged; private residences destroyed; homes made desolate; in fact, the whole country through which we have passed, except part of Maryland, has become through war's desolating touch, a desert waste. As I gazed on these peaceful scenes and my thirsty soul drank in their beauty, how hateful did war appear, and I prayed the time might soon come when “Nations shall learn war no more.”

Gradually the wind freshened, increasing in force as we neared the bay, until it became so rough the captain thought it unsafe to venture out, and cast anchor about five miles from the mouth of the river to await the coming of day. I spread my blanket on the floor of one of the little cabins and slept soundly until morning. When I awoke in the morning the first gray streaks of early dawn were illuminating the eastern horizon.

The gale having subsided, we were soon under way, and in about half an hour entered the broad Chesapeake. And here a most grand and imposing scene met my enraptured gaze. Not a breath of air disturbed its unruffled surface. Numerous vessels, floating upon its bosom, were reflected as by a mirror. A delegation of porpoises met us at the entrance to welcome us to their domain; they were twenty-two in number, were from six to eight feet in length; in color, dark brown. It was truly amusing to witness their sportive antics as they seemed to roll themselves along. They would throw themselves head foremost from the water half their length, turning as on a pivot, perform what seemed to be a somersault, and disappear.

A flock of sea gulls fell into our wake, sagely picking up any crumbs of bread that might be thrown them. They are a strange bird, a little larger than a dove, closely resembling them in color and gracefulness of motion. They followed us the whole distance, and as I watched their continuous, ceaseless flight, the effect on the mind was a sense of weariness at thought of the long-continued exertion.

Soon after we entered the bay I observed what I thought to be a light fog arising in the southeast. We had not proceeded far, however, before I discovered my mistake, for that which seemed to be a fog was a shower of rain. I was taken wholly by surprise, for I had been accustomed to see some preparation and ceremony on similar occasions. But now no gathering clouds darkened the distant sky, warning me of its approach, but the very storm itself seemed to float upon the waves and become part of it, and before I was aware, enfolded us in its watery embrace. The storm soon passed, but the wind continued through the day, and, as we neared the old Atlantic and met his heavy swells, they produced a feeling of buoyancy that was, to me, truly exhilerating.

Some of the boys were seasick, and a number "cast up their accounts" in earnest. We entered the harbor about sundown and cast anchor for the night under the frowning guns of Fortress Monroe.

Vessels of war of every class, monitors included, and sailing vessels of all sizes, crowded the harbor. It was a magnificent scene, and one on which I had always longed to gaze.

In the morning we learned our destination was Newport News, distant about five miles. We arrived about eight o'clock, marched two miles to Hampton Roads, our camping ground, pitched tents and, at noon, were ready for our dinner of coffee and hardtack.

We have a pleasant camping ground, lying on the beach, where we can watch the vessels as they pass and can pick up oysters by the bushel when the tide is out.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 30-3

Diary of Musician David Lane, March 27, 1863

Louisville, Ky. We did not go to Suffolk as I anticipated. Third Division went in our stead, while we took another direction, and in eight days, by water and rail, landed in Louisville. We broke camp at Newport News on the 19th inst., marched on board a fleet of transports, went to Norfolk, where we took in coal. While lying there a heavy storm of snow set in, which lasted several hours. It was bitterly cold, or so it seemed to us, and we suffered severely. Toward night the storm abated and we sailed for Baltimore. There we were transferred to cars and came by the way of the B. & O. R. R. to Parkersburg, W. Va. From Harper's Ferry our route followed the course of the Potomac River to Columbia, a lovely city far up among the mountains, and near the head of that river. The country from Harper's Ferry is mountainous, and Columbia is near the dividing line, from which point the water flows in opposite directions. We were three days and three nights on the cars, winding around or darting through the rocky barriers that opposed us. For, where they could not be evaded, the energy and power of man pierced their huge forms and ran his fiery engines beneath their towering summits. There are twenty-seven tunnels on this road, twenty-five of which we passed through in the daytime. Some of the shorter ones are arched with brick, others with heavy timbers, while some are cut through solid rock and need no support. At Parkersburg our three regiments were crowded into one vessel, and away we went "down the Ohio." We made a short stop at Cincinnati, where we received orders to report at once to Louisville, as an attack at that place was apprehended. We halted on our way through Louisville and partook of a free dinner, prepared for us by the loyal ladies of that city. Soft bread, potatoes, boiled ham, cakes and hot coffee were served us till all were filled (and many a haversack was also filled), when we gave three cheers and a tiger for the generous donors.

We found much excitement, as bands of guerillas came within six miles of the city the night before, conscripting men and confiscating horses and other supplies.

We stole a march on the Johnnies in coming here, they having notified the citizens that they would breakfast with them on the morning of our arrival, and when they—the citizens—saw their streets filled with soldiers, they thought the promise about to be fulfilled, but the Stars and Stripes soon undeceived them. Here our brigade was divided, the Eighth Michigan and Seventy-ninth New York going to Lebanon, the Seventeenth and Twentieth Michigan remaining at this place.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 35-7

Laura M. Towne: May 13, 1862

St. Helena's, May 13, 1862.

Yesterday was a gloomy day on this island. I have been interrupted by a wedding. Tom and Lucy have just been united in this parlor by Mr. Pierce as magistrate, and we presented the bride with a second-hand calico dress, a ruffled night-gown and a night-cap. She came in giggling and was soon sobered by Mr. Pierce's quiet, serious tones.

To go back to the beginning of my letter. This is a sad time here. On Sunday afternoon Captain Stevens, son of General Stevens,¹ who commands here, and is the husband of the Mrs. Stevens we knew at Newport, came here with a peremptory order from General Hunter for every able-bodied negro man of age for a soldier to be sent at once to Hilton Head. This piece of tyranny carried dismay into this household, and we were in great indignation to think of the alarm and grief this would cause among the poor negroes on this place. We have got to calling them our people and loving them really — not so much individually as the collective whole — the people and our people.

We had been talking of going to Hilton Head in Mr. Forbes' yacht, and at tea-time we discussed the whole affair and said we should not go sailing under the circumstances. Miss Walker left the tea-table crying, and we all were sad and troubled. My old Rina and little Lucy were waiting on table and they kept very quiet. After tea Rina came hanging around my room, and asking questions in an offhand but rather coaxing way. She wanted to know why we were going to Hilton Head, and when I said we would not go, she wanted to know what we would do then. I said, “Spend the day in the cotton-house unpacking clothes as usual.” She looked uneasy but did not say much.

Old Robert, the dairyman, went to Miss Winsor and asked the same questions and also what Captain Stevens was here for. She had to say that she did not know, for she did not then.

That night at about eight we saw a company of soldiers of the Seventy-ninth New York Highlanders coming up the road. They marched into the yard and made themselves at home, but very soon were ordered to march again. Meanwhile Captain Stevens was finding out from Mr. Pierce, how to go to the different plantations, and was, moreover, saying that he would resign his commission before he would undertake such work again. That night the whole island was marched over by the soldiers in squads, about six or ten going to each plantation. They were unused to the duty, had to march through deep sand, and some all night, to get to their destination, and without dinner or supper, and so they were grumbling at having to do this kind of thing at all. Besides, the soldiers have always been friendly to the negroes, have given them good advice and gentle treatment and thus are honored and loved all over these islands. So I have no doubt the duty was really repugnant to them.

That night about twelve, after all the soldiers had gone, I thought how alarmed the negroes must be. We were charged not to tell them anything, for fear of their taking to the woods, and so they could only guess at what was going on, and I saw that they believed we were going to fly to Hilton Head and leave them to the “Secests,” as they call their masters. They have a terrible fear of this, and would naturally believe there was danger of the enemy, since the soldiers were about. They could not suppose for a moment the real errand was of the kind it proved to be. I was not undressed and so I went out to the “yard” and to Rina's house, which is in the collection of houses of house-servants which surrounds the “yard.” (This is not the negro quarters.) Every house was shut and I knocked at two doors without getting any answer, so I went home. I concluded that they were not at home at all, and I think they were not, for this morning Rina told me that they kept watch along the creek all night, and the two old women of the place both said they were up and awake all night trembling with fear. Poor “Aunt Bess,” the lame one, told me when I was dressing her leg that she was worst off of all, for she hadn't a foot to stand on, and when the “Secests” came and her folks all took to the woods, she should not have the power to go. “Oh, you be quick and cure me, missus, — dey kill me, — dey kill me sure, — lick me to death if dey comes back. Do get my foot well so I can run away.” She was really in great terror.

After I was undressed and in bed we heard a horse gallop up and a man's step on the porch. I got softly out of our window and looked over the piazza railing. It was Captain Stevens' orderly come back. A bed had been made for Mr. Hooper on the parlor floor, but he had gone with the soldiers to reassure the negroes, who all love him and trust him. He went to let them know that General Hunter did not mean to send them to Cuba or do anything unfriendly. He, a young, slight fellow, marched on foot through the sand six miles or more — indeed, he was up all night. Mr. Pierce had gone over to Beaufort to remonstrate with General Stevens, and the next day he went to General Hunter at Hilton Head to see what he could do to protect the men, forced from their homes in this summary manner. But we did not mind being left alone at all, and felt perfectly safe without a man in the house and with the back door only latched. However, the orderly tied his horse in the yard and slept in the parlor. A horse to fly with was surely a likely thing to be stolen, but it was untouched.

The next day soon after breakfast Captain Stevens and two soldiers came up to the house and we sent for the men whose names he had got from Miss Walker, she being overseer of this plantation. There were twelve of them. Some stood on the porch, some below. Captain S. ordered them all below, and he said to them that General Hunter had sent for them to go to him at Hilton Head, and they must go. The soldiers then began to load their guns. The negroes looked sad, one or two uneasy, and one or two sulky, but listened silently and unresisting. Captain S. said none of them should be made a soldier against his will, but that General Hunter wished to see them all. Miss Walker asked leave to speak to them, and told them that we knew no more than they did what this meant, but that General H. was their friend, that they must go obediently, as we should if we were ordered, and should be trustful and hopeful. I said, “Perhaps you will come back in a few days with free papers.” One or two of the men then made a decided move towards their homes, saying that they were going for their jackets. “Only two at a time,” Captain S. said, and two went, while the others sent boys for jackets and hats, for they were called from their field work and were quite unprepared. The women began to assemble around their houses, about a square off, and look towards the men, but they did not dare to come forward, and probably did not guess what was going on. A soldier followed the two men into the negro street and Captain S. rode down there impatiently to hurry them. They soon came up, were ordered to “Fall in,” and marched down the road without a word of good-bye. I gave each a half-dollar and Miss W. each a piece of tobacco. They appeared grateful and comforted when Miss W. and I spoke to them and they said a respectful, almost cheerful good-bye to us. It was very hard for Miss W., for she knew these men well, and I only a little. Besides, she had set her heart upon the success of the crops, so as to show what free labor could do, and behold, all her strong, steady, cheerful workers carried off by force just in hoeing-corn time. Her ploughman had to go, but fortunately not her foreman — or “driver,” as he used to be called.

After they were gone, and we had cooled down a little, I made old Bess's leg my excuse for going to the negro street and through the knot of women who stood there. They moved off as I came, but I called to them and told them it was better to have their husbands go to Hilton Head and learn the use of arms so as to keep off “Secests;” that they could come back if they wanted to, in a few days, etc. Some of them were crying so that I could not stand it — not aloud or ostentatiously, but perfectly quietly, really swallowing their tears. At Miss Winsor's school the children saw the soldiers coming, and when they saw their fathers marching along before them, they began to cry so that there was no quieting them, and they had to be dismissed. They were terrified as well as grieved. On some of the plantations a few of the men fled to the woods and were hunted out by the soldiers; on others, the women clung to them, screaming, and threw themselves down on the ground with grief. This was when the soldiers appeared before breakfast and while the men were at home. I am glad we had no such scenes here. All the negroes trust Mr. Pierce and us, so that if we told them to go, I think they would believe it the best thing to do; but it is not so with all the superintendents, — some are not trusted.

All day yesterday and to-day one after another of the poor young superintendents have been coming in, saying it was the worst day of their lives and the hardest. I never saw more unhappy, wretched men. They had all got really attached to their hands, and were eager, too, to prove what crops free labor could raise. Mr. Pierce had done what he could to induce the negroes to enlist the other day when the man General Hunter sent came here, but none of the gentlemen approved of this violence. They were afraid the negroes might resist, and they thought it a shame to use force with these men who were beginning to trust to our law and justice. I think General Hunter had an idea, which he got from one of the gentlemen of this Association who went to see him, that the persons in charge of the plantations were so eager for the cotton crop that they prevented the negroes from enlisting, or induced them not to. So he was determined to require the presence of the men and see if they were cowards, or why they did not eagerly take the chance of becoming self-defenders.

Five hundred men were sent from this island to Beaufort yesterday and went to Hilton Head, to-day, I suppose. But not all of the men went who were required. Two from this place have appeared to-day whose names were down as having to go. One had been to Mr. Pierce a few nights ago to say that he wanted to marry our Moll and come here to live. “When?” Mr. Pierce asked. “Oh,” he said, “to-night.” Mr. Pierce said no, he must have a wedding and a good time, and invite folks to see him married — not do things in that style. So Tuesday was appointed, and the man said he would wait. Then on Sunday came this seizure and we all lamented poor Tom's separation from his Moll. To-day he appeared and was married to-night, as I said before. I saw the other man, Titus, in the yard, and said to him, “Why, I thought you went with the soldiers.” “No, ma'am, not me, ma'am. Me at Jenkins',² ma'am. Ef dey had come dere and axed for me, dey'd had me. But I not here.” He had run, and I was glad of it!

This whole thing looks atrocious and is certainly a most injudicious and high-handed measure, but somehow I trust General Hunter will bring good out of it and meant well. The negroes have such a horror of “Hilty-Head” that nothing would have taken them there but force, I think. It is the shipping-off point, and they have great fears of Cuba. One of the wives who was crying so bitterly the first day, said to me to-day that she was “sick”; she wanted her husband back again “too bad.” They say “too” for “very.” They are all still sad and uneasy and are hanging about all the time in a questioning, waiting attitude.

It is late and I have time for no other letter by this mail. Send this around and keep it afterwards; I have no time to write a journal.

One more thing I want to mention was the touching way in which two of the men came to MissW.and begged her to take care of their wives.

I am getting on famously with my unpacking and repacking, and am selling and taking money that it hurts me to take. One woman bought a great bundle of clothes, and I said, “Don't spend all your money.” “All for my chiluns,” she said. “I haven't bought a thing for myself. I had rather have my money in clothes  — my chiluns naked, quite naked — in rags.” The molasses and pork have not yet reached distributing-points, and when they do the people will have no money to buy.

_______________

¹ Brigadier-General Isaac I. Stevens.

² Plantation.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 47-54

Diary Laura M. Towne: May 12, 1862

Monday, May 12, 1862.

The black day.

Yesterday afternoon, Captain Hazard Stevens and orderly came here with an order from General Hunter, commanding Mr. Pierce to send every able-bodied negro down to Hilton Head to-day. Mr. Pierce was alarmed and indignant and instantly went to Beaufort to see General Stevens, who told him that he knew nothing of this but the order, and that he considered it very ill-advised. Mr. Pierce went to Hilton Head to-day and saw General Hunter. Meanwhile, last evening we were anxious and depressed at tea-time and talked in a low tone about this extraordinary proceeding. It had been agreed with Mr. Forbes that we should go to Hilton Head in his yacht to-day and we spoke of not going. When Miss Walker came in we told her all about it, still in a low tone. She was astonished at first and then said, “Sister French's time is come.” “What time?” “She said she wanted to weep and pray with the people, and the time has come to do it.” Miss Walker left the table crying herself. Rina and Lucy were in the room, of course. After tea Rina came to my room and stood hanging coaxingly about. “What are you going to do, missus, to-morrow?” she asked. “Spend it in the cotton-house,” I said. “You not going to Hilton Head?” “No, I guess not.” One question followed another, and I saw she was uneasy, but did not know exactly what for. By the moonlight soon after when I looked out of the window, I saw a company of soldiers marching up to the house. They stood for some time about the yard and then marched off to go to the different plantations in squads. Before they arrived, we all three, Miss W., Miss Nellie, and I, had had a quiet time in the Praise House. Miss W. came to me and said she wanted to go to-night, and so I went, too, and heard good old Marcus exhort, Dagus pray, Miss Nelly read, and then all sing. Marcus said he had often told the negroes “dat dey must be jus’ like de birds when a gunner was about, expectin' a crack ebery minute;” that they never knew what would befall them, and poor black folks could only wait and have faith; they couldn't do anything for themselves. But though his massa had laughed and asked him once whether he thought Christ was going to take d----d black niggers into heaven, he felt sure of one thing, that they would be where Christ was, and even if that was in hell, it would be a heaven, for it did not matter what place they were in if they were only with Christ.

They thanked us for going to pray with them, so feelingly; and I shook hands nearly all round when I came away, all showing gentle gratitude to us. I could not help crying when Marcus was speaking to think how soon the darkness was to close around them. It was after this that the soldiers marched silently up and then away. The whole matter was unexplained to the negroes, as by command we were not to speak of it to-night, lest the negroes should take to the woods. Robert, however, asked Nelly why we were going to Hilton Head, and other questions. Mr. Hooper and Mr. Pierce both having gone away, I determined to go and tell Rina that their masters were not coming back, for this I saw was their fear. So I went out to the yard and along to Rina's house. I knocked, but she did not answer, and then I went to Susannah's. There was no answer there either and so I came home. But the poor people, though all looked quiet in the little street, were really watching and trembling. They set a guard or watch all along the Bay here, and poor old Phyllis told me she shook all night with fear. I suppose there was little sleep. Old Bess, when I went to dress her leg, said, “Oh, I had such a night, so ’fraid. Dey all run and I not a foot to stan' on. Dey must leave me. Oh, missus, do cure my leg. What shall poor Bess do when dey all take to de woods, and I can't go — must stay here to be killed. Dey kill me sure.” I told her they would not kill the women, but she was sure they would shoot them or “lick” them to death. We were astir early and up very late, for after twelve o'clock we heard a horse gallop up and a man's step on the porch. I got out of the window and peeped over. It was Stevens' orderly with his horse. I went down, let him have Mr. Hooper's bed on the parlor floor, and tie his horse in the yard. After breakfast I went but to the cotton house and was getting old Phyllis some clothes, when Nelly sent for me. When I got in I saw two or three of the men standing on the porch talking together and Captain S. saying it was dirty work and that he would resign his commission before he would do it again. It appears that he had been up all night riding over the island, and the poor soldiers had to march all that time through the deep sand, those who had the farthest to go, and they were ill-supplied with food. When the men came in from the stables and field, Captain S. told them to stand below the steps while he spoke to them. So they gathered around, distrust or dismay or else quiet watching on their faces. “General Hunter has sent for you to go to Hilton Head and you must go.” Here the two soldiers who came with him began loading their guns noisily. Captain S. went on to say that General H. did not mean to make soldiers of them against their will, that they should return if they wished to; but that they had better go quietly. Miss W. then asked leave to speak, told them we knew nothing of this, but that we knew General H. to be a friend to the black men, and they must trust, as we did, that all was right and go willingly. “Oh, yes, missus,” they all said, and some looked willing; others less so, but they all seemed to submit passively and patiently if not trustfully. I said, “I hope you will all be back again in a few days with your free papers, but if you are needed, I hope you will stay and help to keep off the rebels.” Some mentioned their wives, and begged in a low tone that Miss W. would care for them; two set out to bid good-bye and a soldier followed them. Others sent for their caps and shoes, and without a farewell to their wives were marched unprepared from the field to their uncertain fate. It made my blood boil to see such arbitrary proceedings, and I ached to think of the wives, who began to collect in the little street, and stood looking towards their husbands and sons going away so suddenly and without a word or look to them. I gave each negro man a half-dollar and Miss W. each a piece of tobacco, and then they marched off. Sometime after I saw the women still standing, and I went, on the excuse of dressing Bess's leg, down to them. Some were crying bitterly, some looked angry and revengeful, but there was more grief than anything else. I reassured them a little, I think, and told them we would not leave them in danger and fly without letting them know. How they could see their able-bodied men carried away so by force when they were all last night in the terror of their masters’ return, I do not see, for they must see that with these men gone, they are like lambs left without dogs when there are wolves about. How rash of General Hunter to risk the danger of resistance on their part, and how entirely unprotected he leaves us! Besides, he takes the laborers from the field and leaves the growing crop to waste, for the women alone cannot manage all these cotton and corn fields now that the foreman and ploughman have gone. This Mr. Pierce stated forcibly to General Hunter, and he admitted he had not thought of that. At least he might have thought of the limits of his authority, for such forced levies are surely not at the discretion of any general. It was so headlong!

At Nelly's school the children saw the soldiers coming with their fathers and brothers. They began to cry and sob, and could not be comforted, for Nelly could say nothing but that she knew no more than they did what it all meant. But she soon dismissed school and came home to this sad house. We have been indignant and very sad, but I have had too much to do to feel deeply or think at all. I have had everybody at the plantation up to the cotton-room and have given each some garments. This, with selling, took my entire day.

It is heart-rending to hear of the scenes to-day — of how in some places the women and children clung and cried — in others, how the men took to the woods and were hunted out by the soldiers — of how patiently they submitted, or trusted in others. Just at dusk a great number with a guard were marched to this place. Mr. Pierce would not let them stay. He made a little speech to the negroes. Told them General Hunter said they should not be made soldiers against their will, and that he hoped they would get their free papers by going. Told them to be cheerful, though it was not pleasant being marched away from home and wives. They said, “Yes, sah,” generally with cheerfulness. We then said good-bye to them; Miss W. and I having gone to them and Said a few words of encouragement. The soldiers were grumbling at the work, and at having had to march day and night on four biscuit — dinnerless and supperless, and through sand, on a repulsive duty; it is pretty hard. They were the Seventy-ninth New York (Highlanders), Company D.

About four hundred men, or perhaps not so many, were taken to Beaufort to-night and are to go to Hilton Head to-morrow. The population is here about 3000 to St. Helena's, and 1500 to Ladies' Island. It is too late to retrace this step, but the injustice need be carried no further. Mr. P. wants to write full accounts to the War Department, but I will not do as he wishes — give my observation of to-day's scenes, till I know that General H. is not trying for freedom.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 41-7

Lieutenant-Colonel William T. Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 17, 1863

Headquarters Del. Dept.,

Wilmington, Del., Aug. 17th, 1863.

My dear Mother:

The month is rapidly passing away, and I am awaiting impatiently the time of my release. Meanwhile I do not mean to pine, but am trying to enjoy myself the best way possible. For instance, Saturday evening, took tea with the Bishop. Yesterday, dined with the Chief Justice. Now we are making arrangements to get up a steamboat excursion to Fort Delaware — a little private party of our own to return some of the civilities that have been paid us. We (Ned and I) mean to have all the pretty girls. Mrs. LaMotte, a charming lady, is to play matron, and I think will have a tolerably good time. So you see, as I said before, we don't pine, still I shall be glad when I shall be at liberty to return home. Have just finished reading Mrs. Fanny Kemble's book on plantation life. By George! I never heard anything to compare with her descriptions. They make one's blood run cold. Though told with great simplicity and evident truth, compared with them Mrs. Stowe's book is a mild dish of horrors. In this State of Delaware I believe there is a larger proportion of extreme Abolitionists than in Massachusetts. People are tired of being ruled by the lottery and slave interests which heretofore have locked hands together. Gen. Tyler is an unconditional man. When one protests his loyalty, the Gen. always asks him if his loyalty is great enough to acquiesce in the emancipation proclamation, and according to the answer, "Yes" or "No," he is judged. Uncle Tom I fear, wouldn't stand much chance here. I had a few lines from Alfred Goddard a day or two ago. He seems to be well pleased with his position on Gen. Harland's Staff. The letter you enclosed to me from Harry Heffron, had all the latest news from the 79th. They have suffered much in following up Johnston in Mississippi from want of water, Johnston leaving in every well either a dead horse or a mule. Agreeable! They are now however on their way to Kentucky and rejoicing. McDonald is on Gen. Parke's Staff. I believe my handwriting grows daily more unformed. How I have degenerated from the example Grandfather Adams set us. However, I have to write fast and sacrifice beauty to utility.

Best love.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 292-4

Request of William C. H. Waddell, John J. Cisco, and Colonel A. Farnsworth, that Capt. William T. Lusk of the 79th Highlanders Be Granted Leave of Absence with a View of His Attaining Command of Col. Allen's Regiment, January 31, 1863

New-York, Jan. 31st, 1863.

Governor desires that General Sprague will reply to this note.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

His Ex'cy. Horatio Seymour,

Governor of the State of New-York, &c, &c.

Sir:

A regiment of infantry is now being organized in this neighborhood under the temporary command of Col. Ethan Allen. It is deemed desirable that Capt. Wm. T. Lusk of the 79th Highlanders (now in the field from this State) should obtain a leave of absence with a view of his attaining the Command of this Regt., Col. Allen wishing to retire. We are anxious at the request of the friends of Capt. Lusk, who is a very deserving and meritorious officer, to procure him a leave of absence for a limited period from his present position, and beg your Excellency to aid us in an application to the War Department towards the accomplishment of that end. This is also at Col. Allen's¹ request. With high regard, we are,

Your Obt. Servants,

Wm. Coventry

H. Waddell.

I fully concur in the recommendation of Mr. Waddell.

John J. Cisco.

As Capt. Lusk has been tendered the position of Lieut. Colonel of a regiment now organizing in this State, his presence here is desirable. I sincerely hope, therefore, that he may be granted a leave of absence.

A. Farnsworth,²

Col. 79th N. Y. V.

Respectfully transmitted to the Adjutant-General with a request that, if consistent, a leave of absence may be granted for the purpose mentioned.

Hd. Qrs. Albany, N. Y.

Feb. 8th, 1863.

I. T. Sprague, Adjt.-General.

A. G. Office. Feby. 11th, 1863.

(636. V. 4) Respectfully returned to the Governor of New-York. The rules of the Dept. do not admit of the leave being granted. When the Command is organized, this officer will be discharged for promotion, if the request be then made by the Governor.

By order of the Sec'y. of War,

Thomas M. Vincent,     

Asst. Adjt.-Genl.

_______________

¹ Ethan Allen, Colonel.

² Col. F. is absent from his Rcgt. at present in consequence of a wound and ill health.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 279-80

Governor Edwin D. Morgan to Colonel Addison Farnsworth, January 28, 1863

[Regarding A Furlough For Capt. Lusk, On His Being Tendered The Lieut.-colonelcy Of The Blair Light Infantry]

54 & 56 Exchange Place,       

New-York, Jan. 28th, 1863.

Col. Addison Farnsworth,

Brooklyn.

Colonel:

The Lieutenant-Colonelcy of a regiment of N. Y. S. Volunteers now in process of organization has, I am informed, been tendered to Capt. Lusk of the 79th.

Before resigning his position in the 79th, Capt. Lusk desires to visit New-York for the purpose of ascertaining what the prospects of the completion of the new regiment are, and, therefore, desires a furlough for a few days. If it is in your power to grant him leave of absence I shall be pleased to have you do so. If you have not the power, please forward this application to the proper officer and oblige,

Yours respectfully,

E. D. Morgan.

Brooklyn, N. Y. Jan. 31st, 1863.

Respectfully referred to Lt.-Col. Morrison commanding 79th N. Y. V. with the request that, inasmuch as Capt. Lusk has been tendered the position of Lt.-Col. of a regiment now organizing, he will favorably endorse an application for that officer for a leave of absence.

A. Farnsworth, 

Col. 79tb N. Y. V.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 278-9

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, January 29, 1863

New-York, Jan. 29th, 1863.

My own dear Son:

I enclose a copy of a letter received by your Uncle Phelps from Col. Allen. Mr. Phelps has been so good, so kind, so faithful to you and your interests, I can scarcely feel grateful enough. Now, he wishes me to lay before you the following facts for your consideration, and as a guide for your decision. Col. Allen says he has recruited about three hundred men, but owing to desertions he has only one hundred and fifty in camp, with the promise of two hundred more recruited by someone else, whom he may or may not receive. After receiving this letter Mr. Phelps went to Ex-Gov. Morgan who is in the city, and requested him to write and ask Gov. Seymour to grant a furlough. Gov. M. said it would be of no use, as Gov. S. had no power; it was for him to give Commissions, and the War Department to make transfers. He (Gov. M.) however instructed his Secretary to write Col. Farnsworth requesting him to make an application, or assist you all in his power to get a furlough. The Gov. didn't know as the Regt. could be raised, and if it were, Gov. S. might perhaps appoint another Col., and he was so desponding that Mr. Phelps who had felt elated at your prospects, was so disappointed that he said to me, “I could have cried.” Then, Mr. Phelps met Mr. S. B. Chittenden who said to him, “From all I hear of the talents of this young man, I think in the reorganization of the Army he will be promoted, which will be better than being troubled with this new Regt.” So you perceive, Mr. Phelps having your interests so near his heart, scarcely knows how to advise, except to get a furlough if possible, come on, judge for yourself, and make your own decision. Col. Allen says, every day almost, ten or fifteen apply at his office, but finding they are not authorized to give bounties, refuse to enlist. There is a bill now before the U. S. Senate for the encouragement of enlistments, offering bounties. I have told all these facts, and now leave the matter to your consideration. If you wish the Lt.-Colonelcy, I suppose you can have it at any time. Your own military experience makes you the most competent judge. Col. Allen wants you, and he thinks if bounties are offered, the Regt. will be full in four weeks. I cannot advise, but I pray God to guide you aright. God bless you my own dear son. Always,

Very Lovingly,

Mother.

There are others pressing for the Lt.-Colonelcy, so as soon as you decide you had better write to your Uncle Phelps. Mayor Opdyke has a friend, somebody else, one of the Military Committee, also has a friend, but Col. Allen prefers you if you choose to accept.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 276-7

Colonel Ethan Allen to Isaac N. Phelps, January 27, 1863

New-York, Jan. 27th, 1863.

Mr. I. N. Phelps

Dear Sir: I am not only willing, but anxious to secure the services of Capt. W. T. Lusk of the 79th Regiment, as Lt.-Col. of the Regiment I am now organizing in this city. It not being my design to lead the Regt. when raised, I appoint Capt. Lusk with the view of his ultimately commanding the Regiment which I think bids fair to be completed at no very distant day. If Capt. Lusk can be relieved from his present duties in the army, and be permitted to fill the position in which it is my desire to place him, I am sure the change will be of service both to himself and to the country.

Your obedient servant,

Ethan Allen,

Colonel Blair Light Infantry, 3d Regt.,           

Merchants Brigade.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 276

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, January 27, 1863

79th Highlanders,                  

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.,  

Jan. 27th, 1863.

My dear Mother:

I have not written either you or other friends to whom I am indebted in an epistolary, for some little time past, because I sincerely cherished the hope that a short leave of absence was at length about to be granted me. As a last card I wrote to Doster to try what he could do for me in Washington. I immediately received a reply from him to the effect that he had applied to the War Department and that I might hope for the coveted “leave” the next day. That was more than a week ago, so I suppose I have had my usual ill-luck, and have nothing more to hope for. Morrison becomes more affable and annoying every day. He cannot forgive me the fright I gave him in regard to the Majority. Fear of American influence in the Regiment is his great Bug-a-boo. He watches me like a cat, and I suppose will catch me at something one of these days, which will serve as a pretext for disgracing me. Then he will talk hypocritically of his great regard and fondness for me, but that he is a soldier and must do his duty. Nothing can exceed the sweetness and amiability of the gentleman toward those he particularly dislikes. Bah! Why should I trouble you with these things? I do not doubt that at best your own fond fears make things out much worse than they really are. I hope I may soon see Sam here. He wrote me he intended running down. I should feel delighted to see him.

I wish I could ascertain something positive regarding the new Regiment. If it is not going to succeed, I would try and get something in the line of my profession provided for me. However I hate to back down, as I resolved at the outset that, for the period of the war, I would serve in any capacity Providence might find best, only reserving my intention to induce Providence to be as pliable as possible.

Joe Hooker commands the army of the Potomac. Everybody appears entirely indifferent to the matter. Heroes of many defeats, we are not inclined to give gratuitous confidence to anyone. Whoever finally succeeds any better than McClellan did, has a fine chance for immortality. The army of the Potomac is splendid in material, and once taught that their best efforts are not to be wasted, they will tell for themselves a splendid story. With McClellan they did best, because they believed that his plans contained all that human skill was capable of. Every new General will be splendidly supported in his first battle. If the battle end in another Golgotha, the old cry will be raised, “McClellan, or a new man!” Sumner and Franklin, piqued, it is reported are about to withdraw likewise. So, peaceful revolutions are occurring in the Army. Let us pray, and hope for the best. Possibly we are adopting the right course to find the right man, possibly the right course to insure our ruin. If Burnside was not a Napoleon, he was a first-rate soldier, and in a subordinate position can do splendid service to the country. Alas! Good-bye.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 273-5

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, January 20, 1863

79th Regiment,                 

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.,  

Jan. 20th, 1863.

My dear Mother:

Yesterday I wrote Walter and was not a little despondent; to-day we are told that the auspicious moment has arrived. To-morrow we are once more to meet the enemy. All gloomy forebodings engendered by the idleness of camp-life, have vanished before the prospect of impending action. My heart is as light as a feather. Hope is dominant, and I can think only of the glorious result if we are victorious. The gloom that now rests on our country will be lifted, and I already hear citizens repeating with joyous lips: “We are victorious. Not in vain have been our sacrifices. We are proud of the army we have created.” Let then all tongues be hushed that cannot join in the glad paeans of victory. I will not think of defeat. If God is gracious, and granteth success to our arms, let the voice of selfishness be hushed, let there be no house of mourning. Let even mothers say we have given gladly the dearest thing we possessed to win the Nation's rest. I have borne, dear mother, a charmed life, heretofore. Even when conversing with comrades on the battlefield, death has singled them out, and left me unscathed, left me to witness the peril of the nation. What then if now the charm be broken, and my last moments be cheered with the thought of the Nation saved. Then let my mother and those that love me rejoice as I would in the full tide of victory. But should we triumph, and I live to see the end, think of the rapture we all would feel, to think that to a poor worm like me had been vouchsafed the terrors of death, and at this cheap price, been spared to view the glories of salvation to our country. Then think how sweet would be mother's or sister's kiss, or the glad welcome of trusted friends. But living, or fallen among the chosen, I trust if the tidings of victory be heard, all who love me will wear their gayest colors and cheeriest smiles, in the joy at the success of the cause in which the loved one rejoiced to risk his all. With such parting words I can go without a tremor into battle, and fear nothing where God ruleth Supreme.

You remember a year ago I wrote you I had had my likeness taken. Yesterday the impression reached me. I enclose you one now, and will send you by a convenient opportunity quite a number more. I have grown a good deal older since then, but you must take that for granted until I can find an opportunity to show you how the latest edition of your son looks. I will send likewise some views of the battlefield of Antietam, concerning which I will have strange stories to tell when the war is closed, and peace fairly, honorably won.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 271-3

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, January 18, 1863

24 West 31st Street,

New-York, Jan. 18th, 1863.

My own dear Son:

I hope my letters reach you more regularly than yours do me, for I write faithfully, and have great pleasure in the thought that my written words keep you connected with, and interested in, the events transpiring at home. A rumor was in circulation last night, that the rebels had crossed the Rappahannock and that our army were fighting their way back to Washington. A young man told me also last night, that a gentleman just arrived from Burnside's Army, told him it was owing entirely to Lee's humanity that our forces escaped entire annihilation after the battle of Fredericksburg. Don't think we credit such absurdities; I only show how secession sympathizers spread reports. The story is this: Lee seeing the danger of our army, and being humane and generous, sent to Burnside, offering him six hours to depart peacefully, which Burnside of course gladly accepted. New-York is full of Southern people in full sympathy with the South, bitter in word and action, and my blood often boils with indignation though I keep usually a quiet tongue. The news of our Western victories, and the intercepted rebel correspondence, make them rather more spicy than usual. You will see the disgraceful proceedings about the election of a Speaker in Albany. The Republicans behave far better than the Democrats. Oh! I am sick. I have been in the house a week with a cold, and I long again for fresh air and freedom. We had a pleasant call yesterday from Abby and Carrie Woolsey. Their brother is on the staff of Gen. Seth Williams who is one of Burnside's staff. Carrie said she should write him to try and see you, as she thought you might find it pleasant to meet.

To-morrow evening we are going to meet a few friends at Mrs. Gilman's. Mrs. Perkins (Tom's Mother) is there on a visit. I am sorry you see no hope of a furlough or promotion. I do not know how things progress here, but I do know Mr. Phelps is still actively at work. The party in power is somewhat opposed to enlistments, or rather does not encourage them. However the Military Department will control that matter I suppose in future.

Jane and Georgie Woolsey are nursing in a hospital near Newport. A corps of ladies acting under the direction of the Surgeon-General, takes charge of the department of the very sick, giving their time and their means to this noble object. Georgie assisted a good deal in the Peninsular Campaign. It is refreshing to meet a whole family so devoted to one cause. Miss Kitty Elliott wants to do something of the same kind, and if I had strength I would not hesitate for one moment, but I am too nervous and good for nothing.

General McClellan is living in a new house next to us. The house was presented him by some of his friends. Cousin Henry and Louisa have just been in to tell me that they heard through Dr. McDonald that you had applied for a furlough on the 13th, and would probably get it. Can it be possible? I cannot believe such joy is in store for me.

Good-bye, God grant us strength to bear, and thankful hearts for all his mercies.

Very lovingly,

Mother.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 269-71

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, January 16, 1863

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.

Jan. 16th, 1863.

My dear Mother:

We have orders to march to-morrow. I cannot say whether we will positively do so, but it is certainly intended that we move very shortly.

I do not know whether the movement is intended as an advance, or whether it is proposed, as was the case a couple of weeks ago, to fall back on Washington. It is generally supposed that the first will be the case. I am glad for anything like a movement, and I trust that this time we may have a successful encounter with the enemy. But oh, I do trust too, that, should I come unharmed out of whatever dangers are before me, I will be able to get out of this Regiment. I do not want any further connection with foreigners. I would almost prefer never to come out alive from this campaign, if it is only to prolong the present disagreeable associations.

No matter though, I am always content when actually in motion. The thought of being really able to contribute something, however little, to the Cause, is then dominant, and I can afford to forget the more selfish feelings that I cannot repress in camp. This letter must be short, for I am pressed for time.

Good-bye. God bless you all. All will be for the best. If we are to fight, pray God to give us victory.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 268

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, January 5, 1863

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.

Jan. 5th, 1863.

My dear Mother:

My letters seem very long in reaching you. The one I sent the day before Christmas, containing a little money which I hoped would contribute to the children's happiness on New Year, had not come to hand on the 31st, yet I had hoped it might precede the rather dolorous document written only the evening before, but which, of course, wouldn't be overtaken. To tell the truth, I was not a little ashamed at having been so querulous. I do not like the habit of complaining, and do not mean often to indulge in it, but the best of our guardian angels cannot always resist the attacks of those emissaries of Satan — the cooks.

Col. Farnsworth, it is said, will soon rejoin his Regiment. It is still a matter of doubt though, whether his physical health will permit him to remain long. Besides the natural effects of his wound, he is much paralyzed I understand, from severe neuralgia. Be this as it may, I am very sorry for him, and shall welcome him back with pleasure. Farnsworth, McDonald and myself enjoy about an equal degree of popularity in the Regiment. Since writing the last sentence my opinion has been somewhat modified by the arrival of the mail. Farnsworth sends a certificate of disability looking for a further extension of his “leave of absence.” This is indefensible. The law allows disabled officers two months to recover. F. has had four months already, and looks for a further postponement of his return. I have also received your letter bearing date Jan. 2d, and see how much harm I did by indulging in a little fit of spleen. I do not see the slightest hope or prospect of either a short leave of absence, or of promotion, neither of which little matters do I intend shall disturb my equanimity in the slightest degree. To be sure my associations are not always agreeable, but when I entered the service had I any reason to hope they would be? I certainly enjoy more favor than any line officer in the 1st Division. This ought to suffice. Again I am losing years that ought to be spent in fitting me for my profession. Well, what of that? Shall I at this late hour begin to count the cost of doing my duty? No mother, we both know that this matter must be pushed through to the end. I am not of so much value as to complain of having to bear my part. To hear me talk, one would suppose I was the only one who fancies himself unjustly used. Bah! The army is filled with them. Possibly twenty years hence I shall be grumbling because my professional skill is not properly appreciated. It is hard for disappointed men to believe the fault lies in themselves. Yet such things do happen. I shall be obliged to postpone my Christmas remembrances to you until the paymaster (invisible now for six months) shall visit us.

Very affectionately,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 266-7

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, January 4, 1863

24 West 31st Street,

Sunday, Jan. 4th, 1863.

My own dear Son:

I went to hear Mr. Prentiss this morning, and was deeply affected and impressed by his New Year's sermon. Thomas and Lilly having gone to church this afternoon, I take advantage of this quiet hour to write a few words to you. We are anxiously awaiting the final result of the battle in Tennessee. It has involved another fearful loss of life; another “army of martyrs” have shed their blood, we trust Oh, God! not in vain. The Emancipation Proclamation too has been issued, and now we wait for the events which crowd so heavily, we trust to a final end. The Monitor has foundered off Cape Hatteras, another calamity to mourn over. We take victories as a matter of course without much elation, but defeats or humiliation in any form we cannot bear. I hoped to have received a letter from you yesterday but did not. Your last letter to me was written on the 23d. Elliott told me he heard that Col. Farnsworth had resigned. Is it true? I hope you approve of the Proclamation. It seems to me it strikes at the root of the evil. Dr. Grant says, although it beggars his family at the South, he thinks it wise and just. Mr. Riley who was born in a slave country (S. A.), says he thinks it is the first blow which has given much alarm to the rebels. There is an idea that it is an obnoxious measure to the soldiers, and those hostile to the Administration foster the notion and strive to spread it. Many prayers for Abraham Lincoln have been offered up to-day, that he may be guided aright, and having acted in the fear of God, that all other fears may be quieted, and he may be strengthened for his great responsibilities. I heard a young man say, at our table to-day, that democratic clubs were forming about the city to prevent drafting. I heard another say that Gen. Dix had been appointed Military Governor of the State of New-York. The times are indeed turbulent and stormy, and none can prophecy as to the future, and yet a stranger in New-York would scarcely believe that we were a nation struggling through appalling trials. The streets are as gay as ever, public amusements as much frequented, and our gayest shops are filled with ladies spending money profusely. The hospitals however tell a tale different indeed.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 264-5

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, January 5, 1863

5th. I have received a letter this morning from Mary, very bright and cheerful. She writes: “Yesterday was quite a day of rejoicing here over the President's Proclamation. The Mayor (Lloyd Greene) ordered the bells to be rung, and cannons to be fired.” Nearly all in this house where we are boarding are Southern people, or Southern sympathizers. I am very quiet and seldom make any remark. A Baltimore gentleman remarked to me the other day, “I do not believe you are an Abolitionist, you don't look like one.” I merely replied “Ah?” A lady sitting opposite me said “I have seen the meanest Yankees, they are all so mean.” As she looked at me, I drew up and answered, “You are unfortunate. I, on the contrary, have met many a noble-hearted Yankee.” “Oh!” said she, “so have I. I was born in New England.” So it goes.

Well, the morning is passing rapidly away, and I have to go down to the Everett House to see Mrs. Tyler. The morning is charming. I hope you are enjoying it. Your last letter was sad, it was written with a sick heart, so I long anxiously for another. I do not think an hour passes, when I am awake, that my thoughts are not with you. Lilly unites with me in dearest love to you. We are all so anxious to see you, sometimes I fancy I hear your step approaching, but it is only fancy after all.

Good-bye my own dear son, may God bless and guide you.

Very lovingly,

Mother.

Kind regards from all to Dr. McDonald.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 265-6

Captain William Thompson Lusk to his sister, Lillie, December 31, 1862

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.

Dec. 31st, 1862.

My dear Sister Lillie:

I have just received your letter, and am much troubled to hear that mother has been ill. As you were intending to write me on New Year's eve, I have concluded to write you in turn, knowing it to be all one, whether I write you or mother. I am specially disposed to write to-night as I feel very good-natured. I am not troubled for the moment, either with the goadings of disappointed ambition, the peculiarities of Scotchmen, the inclemency of the weather, or even with “the unfortunate Abraham Lincoln.” In a word, I am determined to be good-humored in bidding farewell to the old year, notwithstanding it is responsible (either it, or the aforesaid Abraham) for so many disasters. If all the hopes so fondly entertained at the beginning of the year have not been realized, we know at least that Providence doeth all things well, if not exactly as man would have it.

MARY HARTWELL CHITTENDEN
Whom W. T. Lusk married May 4, 1864

The Highlanders mean to celebrate the New Year, as the accompanying card will show. Turkeys, hams, tongues, bread and butter and a bowl of punch will be furnished to visitors, and we hope they may be many. But pleasantest of all, Hall is coming to visit me, bringing with him a Dr. Hubbard of his regiment — an Uncle of pretty little Mary Chittenden. If we don't have a good time, then I'll hang up my sword on a willow tree, but you will have to wait until the second inst. for particulars. I had a good time Christmas too, and only regret you should have spent it so quietly. You see I raised a pair of ducks and rode up with them tied to my saddle to Stafford C. H. (ten miles), found Hall, eat the ducks (with Hall's assistance), gossiped, and made very merry, though I had so recently written home representing myself so very miserable. Yesterday I made Major Crosby of the 21st C. V. a visit, and found that I used to go to school with him to old Peltis up-town. We had a right good time of it. His heart so warmed toward me finally, that he brought out a loaf of cake made by his wife's fair fingers—good cake it was too. Speaking of cake reminds me that the Chaplain, my tent companion, has just received a cake from his sweetheart. Oh these sweethearts! Chaplain receives every mail pretty pink notes which he likes to be joked about. He likes the cake too.

Hall thinks I have grown dreadfully unrefined. I smoke a pipe and eat onions. Horrible, isn't it? Would you really like your brother at home, who can do such dreadful things? I can't come. I've tried, but Rhadamanthus, that is Old Bull Sumner, is adamant, and bids me wait until I catch swamp fever or lose a leg, when I will be able to return with flying colors. I tried in fact to take the Bull by the horns, and that's what I got for my pains. Dear me, I'm growing older every day, so you can imagine how old I shall be when I get home.

Well, sister Lillie, I would try and be sentimental in view of New Year's Eve, but that could hardly be looked for in a man that eats onions. But may many blessings rest on both my sisters, my mother and the little ones that are dear to us all. True love between you and Tom, between Hunt and Mary, deepening not weakening at each successive return of the New Year.

Had I my six months' pay, and twenty days to spend at home, how I would make things fly around.

Again love to mother, Uncle Phelps, Aunt Maria, Nellie, Tom, friends individually, collectively, and in bulk.

Affec'y, your brother,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 261-3

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, December 30, 1862

New-York, Dec. 30th, '62. 24 West 31 St.

My own dear Son:

. . . I received your very sad letter last night. I sympathize sincerely, and do not wonder that you feel sick and disheartened. However, I trust the spirit of gloom which oppressed you when you wrote, has passed by, and the brave spirit of my own boy is aroused again. Never call yourself a “despised soldier.” Neglected you have been, and we all feel it most cruelly, but “despised,” never.

No name is mentioned with greater respect than yours, about none is more indignation felt by friends than about you. Your career has been a marked and peculiar one; high titles now are no mark of merit. Gov. Buckingham said to me in the cars on my way to New York, “I want a Colonel now. I know of no one who would fill the position half as well as your son, and yet, with the desire, I cannot give it to him.” So it goes — some town-clerk or petty lawyer, having stayed at home far from a soldier's dangers, watches, waits, and the first opportunity steps into the soldier's honors. Mr. John Tappan who has no particular friends in the army, says he always draws the inference if a man is promoted, he doesn't deserve it — he has seen so few really meritorious officers treated well. I think he goes too far and do not myself wholly agree with him, still I think there is a great lack of justice. . . . It was certainly a great piece of self-sacrifice in you to sign a paper requesting the majority to be given to another, when you knew it had been promised you. I admire the valor of your regiment, and, as Elliott says, “you can refuse to fight a duel now, having fought in the 79th.” . . . I should be extremely glad my dear son, to see you again at your books, if you can return honorably. You say you entered the army against the advice of your friends. Very true, my dear child, God knows how hard the struggle was to me, God knows how much I often now endure, yet through everything I feel comfort, nay pride, that my son's motives are pure and conscientious. Well, the New Year is close at hand. May it open brightly for you, my own dear son. For some reason you have been preserved through many and great dangers. He who guarded has still work for His servant to do, so be of good cheer, you will not be forsaken. By-and-by you will look back on your humiliations and say, “They were hard, but they have done me good.” Beside, I can only acknowledge your disappointments. A soldier, a true man, is never humiliated by the performance of right. And yet your letter touched a responsive chord which vibrates now, for through the whole I recognize myself. May God bless you my own dear son, and grant you His assistance. . . . You could not be dearer to the heart of

Your loving

Mother.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 260-1