Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 6, 1862

Headquarters 1st Division,

9th Army Corps, Meridian Hill, Washington, D. C.

Sept. 6th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

Now that our General is dead, a Colonel commands the old Division temporarily, and I continue to superintend the office, running the old machine along until different arrangements can be made, when I suppose I shall be set adrift with no pleasant prospects before me. I would resign, were I permitted to do so, and would gladly return to my medical studies this winter, tired as I am of the utter mismanagement which characterizes the conduct of our public affairs. Disheartened by the termination of a disastrous campaign — disasters which every one could and did easily foresee from the course pursued — we find as a consolation, that our good honest old President has told a new story apropos of the occasion, and the land is ringing with the wisdom of the rail-splitting Solomon. Those who were anxious and burning to serve their country, can only view with sullen disgust the vast resources of the land directed not to make our arms victorious, but to give political security to those in power. Men show themselves in a thousand ways incompetent, yet still they receive the support of the Government. Politicians, like Carl Schurz, receive high places in the army without a qualification to recommend them. Stern trusty old soldiers like Stevens are treated with cold neglect. The battle comes — there is no head on the field — the men are handed over to be butchered — to die on inglorious fields. Lying reports are written. Political Generals receive praises where they deserve execration. Old Abe makes a joke. The army finds that nothing has been learned. New preparations are made, with all the old errors retained. New battles are prepared for, to end in new disasters. Alas, my poor country! The army is sadly demoralized. Men feel that there is no honor to be gained by the sword. No military service is recognized unless coupled with political interest. The army is exhausted with suffering — its enthusiasm is dead. Should the enemy attack us here however, we should be victorious. The men would never yield up their Capitol. There is something more though than the draft needed to enable us to march a victorious host to the Gulf of Mexico. Well, I have been writing freely enough to entitle me to accommodations in Fort Lafayette, but I can hardly express the grief and indignation I feel at the past. God grant us better things in future.

I had said my own prospects are somewhat gloomy. When the changes are made in this command, and new hands shall take charge of it, I will have to return to the 79th Regiment — a fate at which I shudder. The Regiment has been in five large battles, and in ten or twelve smaller engagements. While adding on each occasion new luster to its own reputation, it has never taken part in a successful action. The proud body that started from the city over a thousand strong, are now a body of cripples. The handful (230) that remains are foreigners whose patriotism misfortunes have quenched. The morale is destroyed — discipline relaxed beyond hope of restoration. The General and all the true friends of the Regiment were of the opinion that it should be mustered out of the service. After performing hard duties in the field for fifteen months I find there is nothing left me, but to sink into disgrace with a Regiment that is demoralized past hope of restoration. This for a reward. I am writing this from the old scene of the mutiny of last year. A strange year it has been. God has marvellously preserved my life through every danger. May he be merciful to my mother in the year to come. My old friend Matteson is dead. He was a Major in Yates' Regiment of Sharpshooters which distinguished itself at Corinth. He died at Rosecrans' Headquarters, of typhoid fever.

We are going to move from here to-morrow, but your safest direction will be Capt. W. T. Lusk, A. A. A. G., 1st Div. 9th Army Corps, Washington (or elsewhere). All the letters sent me since I left Fredericksburg have miscarried, and I am very anxious for news.

Affec'y.,

WILL.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 188-90

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 4, 1862

Headquarters 1st Div. Reno's Command,

Near Alexandria, Sept. 4th, 1862.

Dear Mother:

Once more, after a lapse of nearly five weeks, am I able to write you again. During this time we have been cut off from all communication with our friends, we have been busily employed, and have suffered much. I have lost my good friend, Genl. Stevens, who has been sacrificed by little men who can poorly fill his place. Whenever anything desperate was to be performed, Stevens and Kearny were always selected, with this difference though, that Stevens rarely was credited with what he did, while Kearny's praises were properly published. On Monday's fight, the General's son and I were walking together in the rear of the 79th Regiment, when Capt. Stevens was wounded. Finding that young Stevens was able to move off without assistance, I continued to follow the Regiment. Soon the General came up on foot. “Have you seen your son?” I asked him. “Yes,” said he, “I know he is wounded,” and then added, “Capt. Lusk, I wish you would pass to the left of the line, and push the men forward in that direction.” I did as I was ordered, and on my return, found the General had been killed, and the troops badly slaughtered. The General you have read was shot while holding the flag of the 79th Regiment in his hand.

There were five shot holding the same flag in about twenty minutes time. I found the sixth man standing almost alone at the edge of some woods still clinging hopelessly to the colors. I drew him back to the crest of a hill a couple of hundred yards back and gathered a few of the 79th about it. Kearny then came riding up, and asked the name of the little band. On being told, he said, “Scotchmen, you must follow me.” They told him they had not a round of ammunition left. “Well,” said he then, “stand where you are and it may be you will be able to assist my men with the bayonet.” The soldierly form moved on, and it too soon was dust. Stevens was a great man and Kearny a courageous soldier. It is not every man of whom this last can be said, though the country may have placed him high in power. I suppose I must not tell all I have seen in the last few days fighting, but I have seen enough to make it no matter of wonder at the extent of our disaster. I have read little truth as yet in the papers, though I see the people are beginning to feel the truth. So long as the interests of our country are entrusted to a lying braggart like Pope, or a foolish little Dutchman like Sigel, we have little reason to hope successfully to compete with an army led by Lee, Johnston and old "Stonewall" Jackson. Carl Schurz, our lately returned minister to Spain, I found blundering horribly. Schenck was a laughable instance of incompetence, and so with others. You must be careful to whom you repeat these things, and yet there is much which it were better were known, for our soldiers are not deceived by lying reports. They feel whom they can trust, and are not willing to fight for men like McDowell and that ilk. McClellan's reappointment gives great satisfaction to the soldiers. Whether right or wrong they believe in him.

I expect to get my back letters to-day, and then what a treat. I am still very much fatigued by the last month, and like to rest all I can.

Good-bye. Kisses and love to all.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 180-1

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 2, 1862

Headquarters Stevens' Div.

9th Army Corps, Newport News,

Aug. 2d, 1862.

My dear Mother:

As General Burnside's Corps is being transferred to other scenes, and as our turn to go on shipboard will come to-morrow, I take this opportunity to inform you of our intended change of Camp. I cannot tell you where I am going. I hope and think we are to join Pope. So soon as we shall have arrived at our destination, I will let you know. I fear a letter or two may be lost, but hope not.

The Governor of Connecticut made a most excellent appointment in Wm. Ely to the Colonelcy of the 18th R. C. V. Cool, decided, brave, enterprising and experienced, he will fill that position with honor to himself and to his native State.  —— —— will find he has made a great mistake if he has entered this new Regiment with a view to playing a high-handed insubordinate part. There are ways of bringing fractious officers and soldiers to a sense of duty now, that were quite unknown at the time of the three months' service. The news in the papers of yesterday relative to drafting if the contingents are not filled by Aug. 15th, if true, must occasion quite a panic in the North. I am glad of it. This bounty business is simply disgusting. If there is so much spare money to be thrown away, it is better that it should be given to those who have borne the burden and heat of the day, than to those who enter at the eleventh hour. It speaks badly for the patriotism of the North, if the bribes must be increased now to induce men to serve their country in the hour of its extremest peril. I say it is a poor system, and believe in the draft — the rich to serve with their wealth, the poor with their muscle, and the patriotic of both classes the best way that lies in their power. Bythe-way, I enclose for your album a capital likeness of Col. Farnsworth, of the 79th Regt.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 171-2

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, May 2, 1862

Beaufort, S. C. May 2d, 1862.

My dear Mother:

May has opened charmingly in Beaufort. The air is warm but not oppressive. We are luxuriating in green peas, strawberries, blackberries, all the early vegetables, and the fig trees, loaded with fruit, will soon supply us with an abundance of green figs. Fish are supplied by the rivers in great plenty. Indeed we are well supplied with all sorts of good things, so we have little of which we can complain, except inaction. It is now fifteen days since a mail has reached us from the North. Telegraphic news in the columns of the Charleston Mercury dated the 26th, speaks of the city being in great alarm from the advancing army and fleet of Genl. Butler. A sailing vessel occasionally brings us a newspaper from the North. Otherwise we would be quite separated from the rest of mankind, and would be compelled to consider the North as having regularly seceded from us.

I have received the beautiful flag you sent me. I gave it to the boys of the Company, who were delighted. The other companies are quite envious. Thanks, dear Mother, a thousand times, for the expression of your love.

I think after all I must have that new suit of clothes I wrote for before. Notwithstanding all efforts to the contrary, my old suit will persist in growing daily rustier, and more unseemly in the seams. So if you will please have the suit ordered, I shall find good use for it full as soon as it shall be ready for me.

Tell Mr. Johnson I had a right pleasant time with his friend Bronson, and add too that Sloat’s men produced such an effect on the 79th Regiment, that it is impossible to persuade them that the whole affair of allotment is anything more than a Jew swindle. I am looking forward with great delight to the next steamer arrival, anticipating a heavy mail after so long neglect. There is so little of interest to write. I believe I wrote you there was quite a charming lady, a Mrs. Caverly, stopping at the General's. Her husband is dying with consumption and has come here to try the effect of the climate. You can imagine that a pretty and lively lady makes quite a difference in the house.

You do not know how inexpressibly indignant I feel at the attacks made on McClellan. They are certainly most scandalous, and calculated to ensure his defeat were he in any wise what his enemies represent him. It is the height of folly to suppose that men are going to sacrifice their lives, unless they have good reason to suppose that they are to be brought at the right moment to the right spot to play their part in gaining a victory. You have only to convince them that incompetent men are putting them in positions to occasion a defeat, and they will run before a shot is fired. It would seem that the enemies of McClellan are doing their utmost to produce that sort of spirit of distrust in our troops, so as to lead to new disasters. I am sick and tired of these howling politicians who would be willing to see everything we consider holy destroyed, provided they could only under the new regime get the Governmental patronage of the devil.

Affec'y. your son,

Will.

Flourishes supposed to indicate genius.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 143-5

Diary of John Hay: October 17, 1861

At Seward’s to-night we met Capt. Schultz who showed very bad taste by alluding to the Chicago Convention and Seward. The President told a good yarn.

One day in Springfield shortly after some of the lower counties had held meetings and passed Resolutions eulogistic of Trumbull, John Wentworth sitting near Lincoln at breakfast one morning, said: — “Lincoln, have you seen them Resolutions?” “I have seen what I suppose you refer to.”

“Them Trumbull fellers are going to trick you again.”

“I don't see any trickery about it, and if there was, there is no way to help the matter.”

“I tell you what, Lincoln,” said John, with a look of unutterable sagacity; “You must do, like Seward does — get a feller to run you.” It was vastly amusing to both the President and Secretary.

The Secretary of State talked about intercepted correspondence, and the double-dealing and lying of our English friends Fergusson and Bourke.

Going to McClellan’s with Banks, they talked about the campaign. McClellan thought the  enemy were massing at Manassas. He said he was not such a fool as to buck against that place in the spot designated by the foe. While there the President received a despatch from Sherman at Annapolis, asking for the 79th New York, the Highlanders. The President was vexed at this, and at Sherman’s intimation that the fleet would not sail before Sunday. McClellan was also bored  by the request, but Seward strongly seconded it. McC. said he would sleep on it.

We came away, the Tycoon still vexed at Sherman. At Seward’s door he turned suddenly and said: — “I think I will telegraph to Sherman that I will not break up McClellan’s command, and that I haven't much hope of his expedition anyway.”

“No,” said Seward, “You won't say discouraging things to a man going off with his life in his hands. Send them some hopeful and cheering despatch.”

The Tycoon came home and this morning telegraphed Sherman: — “I will not break up McClellan’s army without his consent. I do not think I will come to Annapolis.” This was all. I think his petulance very unaccountable.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 44-6; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 28-30.

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, February 16, 1862

Headquarters 2d Brigade, S. C.

Beaufort, S. C. Feb. 16th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

Pleasant land of South Carolina! Roses blooming in the gardens, mocking birds whistling sweet notes in the forests, trees green and beautiful as dense foliage can make them — quite different from the cold winter you are spending — but Ugh, how the wind does blow here to-night though! It makes little difference to us here in the house, for the bright wood-fire blazes cheerfully, and around it is gathered by no means a dejected party smoking cigars, and good-naturedly cursing the slowness of the campaign. Out of door, the pickets perhaps, blowing their fingers, may be using deeper expressions, and may be having different motives for wishing the war to wag along a little faster. Would that our little General with his big shaggy head, were in command! I think he would set them dancing over on the mainland to the merry old tune of Malbrook, but Sherman is slow and cautious, and the biggest figure he allows us to execute is a sort of dos-a-dos performance at best.

So our little General, with nothing better to do, contents himself with having the best managed Brigade in the Command, lectures us young men occasionally on Strategy, and at times, in sheer despair, reads novels with the same energy and vigor with which he conducts his operation on the battlefield. He is, indeed, a prodigious little man, and it would rejoice many a one, were he to receive a larger, and more splendid field of action — such a one as his talents demand.

Dear, dear! I am impatient to hear from home, but our transport vessels are needed elsewhere, and we have no idea when we are to receive another mail.

I see Captain ——— quite often. He is like Sherman, very slow. I try to give him some hints about flying around more, and I trust experience will teach him the necessary lesson.

By-the-by, who is George Martin, now Quartermaster of the 79th Regiment, who talks about “Uncle Lusk” and “Uncle Olmstead” and “Uncle Thompson” and “Henry G.,” etc? He heard me say I was from Connecticut — “What, you don't belong to the Enfield Lusks?” I explained my relationship. . . . Wishing to ascertain the relationship existing between us, I found he was born somewhere in Suffield, and that his using the title of “Uncle” was merely intended to show that he was accustomed to mingle familiarly in the Aristocratic Circles of Enfield. Indeed we kept up quite a running talk about Enfield. While talking rapidly upon the topics suggesting themselves, on finding our “relationship,” we were somewhat interrupted by a loud hawhaw from a bed in the corner of the room. Then a voice, deep and gruff, cried: “Haw-haw! Oh Lord, haw-haw! One would think there were no people in the world except those that come from Connecticut, haw-haw!” This proceeded from a drunken Captain, who was so amused at his own wit, that he continued to laugh, and roll, and shake his fat sides until the room was in a roar, and as I left, way down the street you could hear the same “haw-haw” from the jolly drunken Captain.

Love to all.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 122-3

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, February 6, 1862

Headquarters 2d Brigade, S. C.

Beaufort, S. C. Feb. 6th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

. . . I have received the little prayer-book from Nannie Day and thank the dear soul many times for a remembrance that by no means is needless to a soldier. You may tell her that I have several times carried it in my pocket, when circumstances have been such as to prevent my using the larger book which was packed in my trunk. I must not forget now either, Tom's photograph which I display with pride along with those of Hunt, Uncle John, and my own mother. To-day the “Ellwood Walter” arrived at Beaufort where the Connecticut battery is to be landed. I went on board immediately, hoping, notwithstanding his illness, Captain Rockwell might be aboard, but learned he would in all likelihood arrive by the next steamer. The “Atlantic” is looked for now hourly, and I trust he may be aboard. I was not a little disappointed to learn from the officers of the battery, that not a man of them all, except the Captain, had ever fired a gun (cannon) in his life, for I had boasted much of the Connecticut battery which was to be sent to Port Royal. Any time the good Governor of Connecticut, or the sons of the worthy state, see fit to honor me, I am open to anything like promotion. So goes the world. I have only held as a secure and settled thing, my position as Captain about three weeks, when I talk of something better. I will confess to you now, that though, since deserted by Lieut, (now Captain) Sam Elliott,¹ I have held command of a company of Highlanders, and though I had been led to suppose for a time (on my first being transferred to the Staff) I held it as Captain, under which supposition I wrote you, stating the same, my real title to the rank of Captain has only dated since the short time I have mentioned. But having made the mistake once, there was nothing left for me to do but to try to get a Captaincy as soon as possible, and now that I have received the congratulations of the Regiment and Brigade, I think I may mention the matter candidly. Dear old Walter, I shall be glad to hear from him. I have lately written Hall, and trust he will forget my neglect in times past. There is going to be a “Nigger shout” to-night, which a number of the officers are going to attend. As I have no definite idea of the character of the performance except that it is a relic of native African barbarism, I shall attempt no description. Give my best love to all my dear friends at home. I do not forget their kind words, or wishes, though I do not often mention them.

Your Affec. Son,

W. T. Lusk.

_______________

¹ Lieutenant Samuel R. Elliott resigned from the 79th Highlanders Sept., 1861. He subsequently served as Surgeon in other regiments, up to the close of the war.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 120-1

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, January 19, 1862

Headquarters 2d Brigade S. C.

Beaufort, S. C. Jan. 19th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

I am so accustomed to commence all documents in an official form, that even in a letter to you I find myself employing the customary heading. I regret very much that this letter will not reach you by the “Atlantic,” but it is too late — the steamer sailed a day sooner than at first reported. But I trust Walter has told you I am well, that Uncle Phelps has reported my purchase of a new horse, and that Capt. Wm. Elliott, who has returned home with your address in his pocket, will relieve your mind of all anxiety as regards the effect of my late illness. But tell Walter that all my fretting and fuming on two points was in vain. After writing as I did about the sword, I went to the express office to make a last inquiry. The office was closed, so I despatched my letter. On going to dinner a few hours later, one of the officers spoke up: “By the way, there's a package for you at the express office, about three feet long and four or five inches deep.” My sword after a long delay at Fortress Monroe, at last had come. I am charmed at Walter's forethought, and I promise to wear it with double pleasure, for the great love we bear each other.

Then the matter of the 79th officers sent out with commissions from Gov. Morgan, although not having a pretext of a claim for recognition — well, my efforts, somewhat Quixotic, and decidedly mutinous in character, were of no avail. I had set my heart on seeing Wm. Elliott in a position which every man who knows him, acknowledges to be his due. The Lieut.-Colonelcy was vacant, the Colonelcy too; one of these offices the General declared he should have, but the Governor of New York had to attend to his friends and so William lost his promotion. I was indignant, outraged. I tried to get all the officers to resign, sooner than submit to imposition. Luckily for me, the men I sought to influence were “Canny Scotch” — the promotion of Elliott had no material interest to them. They could say that it was a shame, but losing the liberal pay the U. S. Government allows, was too much of a stretch upon their sense of justice, so I was saved a deal of foolishness which must have ended disastrously. Necessarily in the army a great amount of temporary injustice is done, but in the long run merit will rise. And so I satisfy myself that Wm. Elliott will yet be a Colonel or something more, but he must bide his time. I meant to have written ever so much more, but just hearing the “Baltic” sails directly, I halt abruptly, hoping this may catch her.

Love to all.

Affectionately,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 116-7

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, October 25, 1861

October 25th, 1861.

My dear Mother:

It is with extreme pleasure I write you to-day. We are still at Fort Monroe, and of course I do not know how long we are to remain here, but Old Point Comfort has proved itself such to me. I think few up to the present time have served under greater disadvantages in the army than I. A member of a Scotch Regiment strong in its foreign prejudices, introduced as I was by, a man greatly unpopular among the men, I have enjoyed little prestige or favor. We have had hard work to do, and for four months I have suffered from extremes of heat and cold, from hunger and wet, and sleepless nights — from all the hardships of outpost life — have had the credit which I felt was due, denied, and have waited patiently, though sometimes against hope. After Col. Stevens became Brig.-Gen., our Regiment fell to the command of . . . Morrison, who sought to exhibit his authority by all sorts of petty and irritating acts of insolence toward myself. The life became intolerable, and I sent in my resignation. I have written you how kindly Gen. Stevens acted in the matter. I withdrew the resignation temporarily, however, on learning from Gen. Stevens the probability of a speedy action.

When Gen. Stevens was detached from our Brigade to command one stationed at Annapolis, I was left, almost without appeal from the insults of . . . Morrison. I found my rights taken away, and favors bestowed on low, ignorant rowdies. I then obtained a furlough, meaning to arrange some plan of honorable escape while on a visit home.

Suddenly a despatch came ordering our Regiment to meet Gen. Stevens at Annapolis, and it was whispered our destination was to be some place on the Southern coast. I thereupon pocketed all affronts, gave up all thoughts of a leave of absence, and resolved to be resigned to the painfulness of my position, and to perform any duties that might be allotted me. A few days ago I was appointed officer of the day. The duties of the day were arduous, and for twenty-four hours I had no sleep. It was about 7½ in the morning and my duties had nearly expired, when Gen. Stevens desired to see the officer of the day. I supposed it was to perform some business in connection with my position. On reporting myself he said, “Mr. Lusk I wish to have a few words with you.” “Yes,” said I, “but be quick as my time has nearly expired.” “Oh!” said he, “I only wish to tell you that you are appointed my Aide-de-camp. You know my peculiarities, and if we are satisfied with each other I think you will have no reason to repent of your appointment.” I thanked him, told him I was proud to accept the appointment. So now, Mother, with best love to all the dear ones at home, I subscribe myself,

Your affectionate son,

Capt. W. T. Lusk,

Aide-de-camp to Gen. Stevens,

Sherman's Division.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 93-4

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, October 21, 1861

October 21st, 1861.

My dear Mother:

We are sailing rapidly down the Chesapeake, still in doubt as to our ultimate destination, but expecting soon to reach Fortress Monroe where possibly there may be a chance of mailing a letter. We feel as though we were leaving the scene of old triumphs, and old disasters — of the latter we are mindful of many; so it was delicate sarcasm upon the part of our Bandmaster which induced him to strike up “Carry me back to old Virginny!” as we were crossing the Chain Bridge (which spans the Potomac), leaving the “sacred soil” behind us. And now we are embarked on the “Vanderbilt,” bound, this much we know, for “Dixie.” I am hoping to exchange salutations with some of my old friends in Charleston. What fun it would be to be playing the magnanimous to a captive Prince Hugo, or Whalley despising Yankees much, or any other of the royal youth who live in the Kingdom of South Carolina. It may be we are to visit Mobile. If so, tell Hunt I will try and collect his rents with interest. But why speculate?

Let us pray for laurels and victory! Much is expected of the 79th Regiment, I find. “My Highlanders!” as Gen. Stevens calls them. “They are equal to Regulars,” the General is reported to have said to Gen. Sherman' commanding our expedition. "Send for them!" says Sherman. They are sent for, and arrive on shipboard in a horrible state of intoxication, with bloody faces and soiled clothes. The Chaplain of the 8th Michigan Regiment is horrified. He preaches to his men, and says: “I wish to make no invidious comparisons, but after what I've seen of late, I'm proud of you for your excellent conduct!” Well, we must hope that “My Highlanders” will silence invidious comparison when facing the foe. You tell me Ellis thinks I ought to boast of my Graham blood, and gently urge the same yourself, but the fact is, nothing has caused more amusement than Ellis' own pretensions to his descent from the King of the Hebrides. Indeed, on one occasion, up at Sunbury — a country town of Pennsylvania — when he was introduced on a public occasion to the worthy citizens of the place as a lineal descendant of Donald, King of the Hebrides, a man in the audience forgot himself so far as to call out, “Damn Donald, King of the Hebrides!” which was highly improper, and wholly irrelevant, yet very entertaining to those who heard it. I am awaiting an official announcement of the birth of Walter's boy, and mean to write congratulations as soon as I can find time. Hall will soon be married, he tells me. All my friends are getting settled, but I am a Nomad, fit, I fancy, for my present mode of life, which I find healthy and by no means disagreeable. Indeed, were my brother officers of a more agreeable character, I would take to soldiering with a relish, and with a reasonable amount of success might cry, “Vive la guerre!” However all dreams of the future terminate in dreams of peace, of home, and honorable repose in advancing years, all of which, dear mother, may we enjoy together, loving our country better, for having proved that it was so dear that we were willing even to give up our life for its preservation.

Well, the blessings of peace be upon all at home. Kiss the little ones for me. Give love to all and

Believe me,

Affec'y.,

WILL.

_______________

¹ Thomas W. Sherman.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 91-2

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, October 18, 1861

October 18th, 1861.

My dear Mother:

I can only write you a few hasty lines. We have suddenly been summoned to Annapolis, and are now on board ship, bound I know not whither. This is so far pleasant, as there is a chance of relief from the wearisome picket duties which devolve upon Regiments on the advanced outposts; and we have likewise an opportunity for distinction, as well as to do the country good service. It is so far a disappointment, in that I had a leave of absence granted me, and hoped yesterday to be spending to-day with my dear Mother. I am very tired, as I marched all last night, and have been hard at work all this morning. Health and spirits are excellent. Gen. Stevens will most likely command our expedition, which is almost a guarantee of success. At any rate we will trust it will prove more brilliant even than the affair at Hatteras. At any rate let us pray, come what will, God grant us peace in the life hereafter. A thousand times love for all.

In haste, Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 89-90

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, 1861

Headquarters 79TH Regt.

Camp Advance, Co. K.

Virginia, 1861.

Dear Mother:

A most delightful moonlight forbids my retiring at the usual hour to rest, so I will write and let you know that all is well — that we have had a dull week, that there has been naught to stir the sluggish blood since last week save once, when it was thought that the Army of Beauregard was marching in heavy columns upon us, but it didn't come, so we all said: “Pooh, pooh! We knew it wouldn't. They are too wise to attack us.” Alas, that we should have to tell that sorry tale of Bull Run! Walter has written me, and is full of our defeat. He does not feel flattered by the cheap lithographs in the shop windows representing “Yankees Running,” which are thrust upon his sight all over England. He is delighted though to think that the 79th did well, and that I was a member of the Highland Regiment. As we file out of our camp, full equipped, the soldiers of other Regiments are wont to say, “There go the Highlanders. There will be fighting to-day.” We are now formidably intrenched, and I think can make a tolerable defence against the foe. The Richmond Examiner says: “We” (the Southerners) “flaunt our flag defiantly in the face of the cowed and craven-hearted foe, but they tamely endure the insults we heap upon them, and refuse to accept out challenge to a fair and open fight.” Well I think we can afford to endure the flaunting of the “stars and bars” until McClellan is ready, when we hope to march forward, seeking winter quarters in the pleasant mansions of the South. Just this same thing the Southerners are hoping to gain in the North. Beauregard thinks Philadelphia, Baltimore and New-York, gay places in the season, where the Southern youth may join in the festivities of winter. Nous verrons.

We have a little parson in our regiment, who has a due regard for his personal safety. We love to get him into our tents, and describe with graphic truthfulness the horrid nature of shell wounds. The worst of shells too, we add, is, that they can be thrown to such a distance that even the Doctor and Chaplain are exposed to their death-bearing explosions. Our parson grows uneasy, and when an alarm is given, starts off, carpet-bag in hand, to our intense amusement, for the nearest place of safety. He is like that worthy chaplain, who, on the eve of battle, told the soldiers, “Fear not, for those of you who fall, will this night sup in Paradise.” The battle commenced and the chaplain began to display most entertaining signs of terror. He was reminded of the consoling language he had himself used in the morning. “No thank ye,” he answered quickly, “I never did like suppers.” To such an extent are we obliged to resort to everything to amuse ourselves. Our darkeys give us some amusement and much more trouble. Ours, we have dubbed the “Pongo,” who knows how not to do it, in a manner to excite our unbounded admiration. In the evening these Africans have a way of getting around the fire and singing real "nigger melodies," which are somewhat monotonous as regards the music, and totally idiotic as regards the words. A favorite of theirs goes thus — viz:

My little boat is on de ocean

Where de wild bird makes de music

All de day.

This will sometimes be repeated for a couple of hours by the indefatigable nigger — indefatigable in this alone.

Good-bye, darling mother.

Most affec'y.,

W. T. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 87-9

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Lou Thompson, September 21, 1861

Headquarters 79TH Regiment,

Camp Advance, Va. Co. K.

September 21st, 1861.

Dear Cousin Lou:

Let me see — it is a long time since I wrote you, but I am not forgetful. I must thank you many times for your kindness in writing me away off here. Perhaps you think it not very far, only four miles off from Washington; yet it is so, for we are quite shut off from all communication with the outer world. My goodness, how I did cheer Mrs. Gen. Smith the other day on passing her carriage as the Regiment was returning from the field where its colors had been restored!

I am not quite certain that Mrs. Brigadier-Gen. Smith was beautiful, yet I thought her so, for she had little hands, white teeth, and was not shouldering a musket. If you will visit camp, Cousin Lou, I'll crown you Queen of Beauty and vote you lovelier than a thousand Mrs. Brigadier-Gen. Smiths. Tell Cousin Henry and Dr. Grant that their visit to me, while on Kalorama Heights, first taught me that there was still remaining communication with the world. The result of the lesson was, that I bought a looking-glass and combed the snarls out of my hair.

It is raining to-night, so I am shut in my tent. Field life agrees with me excellently, so that as yet I have hardly had an ill day. Our Regiment has been unusually healthy, there having been no deaths from sickness in it since it first left New-York. A captain of the 19th Indiana Regiment was telling me that they had lost 25 of their number from disease already, although they have not been out here so long as we by two months. This I suppose is partly owing to the fact that the city soldiers endure change of climate better than country ones; and something I believe is due to our surgeon Dr. McDonald. The Doctor says that you are one of the few women for whom he has an unbounded admiration.

You would laugh if you could hear the conversations between our Chaplain and the profane physicians. Our parson is a love of a little man from some back country village, accustomed to be kissed (?), admired, and petted by the ladies of his congregation, and to be regarded as a model of eloquence by the men. Fired with patriotic zeal he volunteered his services on the opening of the war, to his country, and left the peace of home for the horrid din of Mars. But the horrid din of Mars he finds to his astonishment, not nearly so agreeable as being kissed (?) and petted in his own quiet village. So he has grown petulant, thinks himself unappreciated, and calls all the men hardened sinners, because they sometimes look incredulous when he answers their “Why?” with, “It is so for I say so.” Shocking unbelievers! Dear little parson tells us weekly not to fear to die, but to face death bravely, as we are certain of being transported instantly to scenes of heavenly joy. Yet our little parson whenever an alarm occurs, rushes to his tent, secures his bag, and trots off in all haste to the nearest place of shelter. Taking advantage of this little weakness, the Doctor is in the habit of explaining to him in a horridly lucid way, the dreadful nature of gunshot wounds. Then some one will suddenly jump up, assume a listening attitude and cry: “Hark! Was that a gun?” The comical aspect of terror which is thus elicited, forms an inexhaustible source of amusement to us all. He reminds me of the Chaplain of the story, who bade the soldiers before the battle, not to fear, as they would assuredly that night, if they fell, sup in Paradise. He himself however ran away when the first shot was fired. An indignant hearer of his morning discourse reminded him of his encouraging promises. “No thankee,” said he, “don't talk to me, I never did like suppers.” All of which story you can anywhere find better told in the newspapers.

Next to the parson, our greatest source of entertainment is the article called “nigger,” a thing I never saw until I came to "Ole Virginny." We own an African of the Pongo species, a sort of half idiotic monkey-man, partially possessing the gift of speech, and totally possessing the gift of doing nothing. I consider it a curious study to see how, when he is ordered to perform any service, he manages most ingeniously not to do it at all. You should see the Pongo though in the Highland costume. “The What Is It?” will have to retire from business.

Good-bye dear Cousin Lou.

Very affec'y.,

W. T. Lusk,

Lieut. Co. K. 79th Regt.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 82-5

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 25, 1861

Kosciusko Farm,

August 25th, 1861.

My dear Mother:

I am seated writing my usual Sunday letter, happy to state that my spirits are good and health excellent, as Uncle Charles will confirm. I was out drilling my men yesterday, when my attention was attracted by somebody nodding to me in a familiar style — a second glance told that it was Uncle Charley, and no other. I was much pleased at his kindness in looking me up, as well as to see him again. You will find he is looking well, and will learn from him that he entertains Republican sentiments of so decided a stripe that I, who was formerly a sort of an abolitionist, am obliged to confess myself a conservative in comparison. I received from Thomas a very pretty present, through the Express office, a few days ago. It consisted of a case containing knife, fork, spoon and cup — things which I shall find highly useful when on the march. When in Virginia before, provided with no such conveniences, fingers were obliged to adapt themselves to the performance of all the varied functions of “table services.” You ask for my address! I never can give you any fixed address, as no Regiment knows where Kosciusko Farm, it will be twenty-four hours in advance, but anything directed to the 79th Regiment, N. Y. S. M., Washington, will be forwarded without difficulty. I was in earnest in wishing that I was connected with some New England Regiment, but not in earnest as regards any intention of deserting my present post because of any difficulty attending it. As long as my friends stick by the 79th, I shall not surely be less faithful than are they. The wish to change arose from a desire to take part in the approaching battle to be conducted by McClellan, in which, it seemed probable, the 79th would be too much crippled to take any prominent part. Our Regiment is, however, now rapidly recovering from the effects of the battle, and the intrigues of the old rum-selling officers now happily resigned. I have some responsibility resting upon me, as I am detailed to take sole charge of one of the Companies. I have the duties of Captain, 1st Lieutenant, and 2d Lieutenant, all combined, at present to perform, so I have little right to think of abandoning my post. In confidence I may add, that possibly five or six of us may be transferred to a new Regiment by the Secretary of War. The Regiment would be under his patronage, and be called the “Cameron Highlanders.” In this new Regiment I most likely would be assigned the post of Captain. However neither say or think anything about this, as it is by no means determined yet. The letter from Fraulein Mathilde contained the kind wishes of the family, and an invitation to be present at her wedding which is to take place on the 1st of September. I find I have grown rusty in the German language, so that I had no little difficulty in deciphering the young lady's epistle.

Have I written you that we are now encamped on Kosciusko's farm? It is a pleasant spot, but damp. I hear we are to be marched off somewhere to-morrow. Report names Georgetown as our probable destination.

Uncle Charles is still in town I hear, but I cannot leave camp to visit him.

I will take the photograph question into consideration when we get paid off. Tell Lilly she must accept thanks and love for her kind letter, but I do not mean to answer it until after some success occurs.

Thank Mary for her kind intentions regarding writing me. Love to the little ones. Ask Will if he wants to be a soldier. Turly shall be made a Congressman, and get appointed Chairman of the Military Committee.

Love to all.

Believe me,

Very Affec’y.,

WILLIAM T. LUSK.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 80-2

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Lou Thompson, August 22, 1861

Camp Causten, Aug. 22d, 1861.

My dear Cousin Lou:

What a pleasant thing it is to live, and how I do enjoy it here on the banks of the Potomac. I do not believe God ever made a more beautiful land than this. How I would fight for it if I believed it threatened by an unscrupulous foe! Cousin Lou, I used to think the “booty and beauty” allusion a sort of poor joke, too sorry even for ridicule, but I now see it as the cunning work of the far-sighted master who knew his people.

By-the-way do you know we are now encamped on the Kosciusko farm, and near by the house still stands where the patriot lived? I was walking in a cornfield today, and spied the silk drooping from one of the ears, dyed a deep red. I plucked it, and send it now to you in memory of Kosciusko, or if you like it better, in memory of Cousin Will. Bother! I was getting sentimental, when a gust of wind tore up the tent pins and blew out the candle. One has great experiences in camp. The other night I was softly slumbering, dreaming of Dolly Ann or of cutting a Secessionist's throat, or something agreeable at any rate, when I heard a sound like that of mighty waters — I felt the waves washing over me — then followed a chilly sensation. I awoke. The stars were above me and by my side lay a sea of canvas — “in short,” as Mr. Micawber would say, my tent was blown down. Another night my tent was pitched on the side of a steep hill. I wrapped myself in my blanket, braced my feet against the tent-pole and fell asleep. In the night my knees relaxed, and no longer prevented by the prop, I slid quietly downward, awaking in the morning at a good night's march from the point at which I first lay down to rest.

Much obliged for the information you send me regarding that youngest son of the Earl of Montrose, who came to America and graduated at Yale College. I always knew I was of noble degree, and have felt my blood preeminently Scotch since the first time I heard Aunt Caroline singing “Where, and oh where is my Highland Laddie gone?” I look too, admiringly upon the queenly Julia, and I say, “Nay, nay, but there's no churl's blood there.” In beatific vision the sisters five file past me; then comes long lanky Sylvester Vegetable Graham, leanest of men, with a bag of oatmeal, and I say to myself, “verily my blood is very Scotch.”

Give my best love to that wee mite of a little lady, who is to have the delightful honor of taking charge of my wooden leg, when I return from the wars a garrulous one-legged old soldier. Imagine me, Cousin Lou, tripping it at my own wedding not on the light fantastic, but on timber toes. Now let us consider the matter, Cousin Lou. Shall the leg be a real timber one though, or shall a compromise be made with Nature, and one of the flexible Anglesea pattern be chosen?

Alas, alas! All day long we have heard guns firing in the distance. Some poor fellows must have fallen, though we get no intelligence of movements made. We are left out of the question. There is a great battle soon to take place, but I fear the 79th is too much crippled to make a great show. We numbered once a thousand gallant hearts — we number now 700 men capable for action; to such a pass we have been reduced by death and what is worse, by desertion. Officers have deserted, and the men have followed the base example. I have seen enough to convince me that this is no war for foreigners. It is our war, and let us cheerfully bear the burden ourselves. The South sends its best blood to fight for a phantom, but we, in the North, send our scum and filth to fight for a reality. It is not thus we are to gain the victory. I would have all our Northern youth not talk, but act — not deem their lives so precious as their honor. Have you read the names of those who resigned their commissions after the Battle of Manassas? The names of over 250 cowards. Life is sweet to all, but have they no trust in God that they fear the bitterness of death? Love to all friends in Enfield. I must say good-night.

Au-Revoir,

Will.

I did not serve as a private but in the capacity of Lieut, at Bull Run.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 77-80

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 17, 1861

Maryland,

Camp Causten, Aug. 17th, 1861.

My dear Mother:

This has been a busy and painful week for the officers of the Highland Regiment. You have seen various accounts of our troubles in the papers, but they contain nothing authentic, although perhaps about as much as an outsider can understand. The mutiny of Thursday is only the legacy of a quarrel begun among the officers before the Regiment left for the seat of war. The quarrel ended after the battle of Bull Run, in the resignation of several of the officers whose ambition was disappointed as to governing the affairs of the Regiment. Not content with withdrawing their services, these men resolved to undermine the Regiment itself. Their plans were well laid. In an underhand way they conveyed papers among the men purporting that, as State Militia they were entitled to return home at the expiration of three months service, but that an effort would be made to detain them for the war. By going home, it was represented the men would receive a grand ovation, would meet their families, and be enabled to tell their tale of the Bull Run battle. Those who had had enough of fighting could resume their old employments, while the greater part who were ready to re-enlist for the war, would be entitled to the re-enlistment bounty of $30. A Government which would give $30 bounty for re-enlisted three month soldiers must place a high value upon them. “Now,” the men were told, “a secret plan has been formed to prevent your return home at all. Lieut.-Col. Elliott has received from Government $10,000.00 to sell you all for the war, and to cheat you of your rights and privileges.”Some little things occurred, which as far as the men were concerned, seemed corroborative of these statements, viz: — An order which had been issued by the Secretary of War for us to return to NewYork to recruit, was recalled as inexpedient on the day the three-month service of our men expired. This was sufficient for them. They believed they had been sold; and the train which had been carefully laid, exploded upon our being ordered, not into the boat for home, but onto the road into Maryland. Since the battle, owing to the loss through resignations or deaths, of our Colonel, Major and 9 of the 10 Captains, besides that of many of the Lieutenants, we were left in a condition peculiarly unfavorable to discipline; and this much is to be said that the companies of Captain Ellis (my own) and that of Captain Elliott, which were provided with officers, obeyed their orders, and refused to join the mutineers. The mutiny commenced in the morning by the men's refusing to strike their tents as commanded. They were to have been struck at 5 a.m. and the Regiment was to move at 6 o'clock. Col. Stevens repeated the orders, but they were still silently and sullenly neglected. He then went among the men and used all his powers of persuasion, but they had been told that they had the law on their side, and if they only persevered, they would be able to return home as a militia regiment. Col. Stevens next went to each company singly and read the articles of war, appending to them such remarks as would enforce in the men the danger of their course; but by this time, the camp, left without sentry, became exposed to the whiskey dealers who made good use of their opportunities. Soon a scene of the wildest confusion took place. The soldiers, throwing off all authority, presented the hideous and disgusting spectacle of a debauched and drunken Helotry. It was a time trying to one's nerves — more trying far than the musketry or cannonading of Bull Run. The Colonel ordered the officers to strike the tents themselves. This we did amid the jeers, the taunts, and the insults of an infuriated mob. One man brought me his gun, cocked it, showed me it was capped, and reminded me it was intended for one officer at least to die, should our release be attempted. Still we worked quietly on, obeying our orders. Some of the Lieutenants were allowed to take down the tents undisturbed, but on leaving them a moment, they were again pitched by the men. Everywhere we were threatened, and it became equally necessary to show neither fear of the men, nor, on the other hand, to allow ourselves any act of violence which would precipitate bloodshed. Luckily for us, when the men were most maddened by drink, an old country quarrel broke out among them, viz: — the feud between the Orangemen and the Ribandmen, which we only know of through English novels, and history. We were not, however, altogether forgotten. Names neither poetical, decent, or complimentary were freely bestowed upon us. Finally afternoon advanced, and nothing was gained. The Colonel called on the men for the last time to render obedience. Soberness and reflection had begun their work upon a few. These fell into their places, and were stationed around the Camp as a guard over the others. Still, though thus yielding, their sympathies were either extended to their mutinous comrades, or else they were too fearful to render much assistance. It was necessary for the officers to be everywhere, and I confess I was quite exhausted when a body of cavalry and a line of infantry appeared, coming toward us. This was a great relief. The mutineers, all unconscious, were surrounded, and, when it was too late to resist, obeyed the orders issued, a death penalty being promised to those who wavered. You have seen in the papers the punishment awarded to the Regiment — the taking of our colors and the disgrace from which we are suffering.

Dear Mother, I feel heartsick and much depressed. I begin to repent bitterly of having cast my lot with a foreign Regiment. Our men have not the feelings of Americans, and cannot, when a reverse comes, be inspired to renewed efforts by enthusiasm for the cause. I am eager for another battle in order that we may have an opportunity to regain our colors, yet dread to risk it now that our men are much demoralized. I wish old Connecticut had a place for me.

Col. Stevens, who is an able man, thinks though, in less than a month he can make us once more the finest Regiment in the field. These stories regarding the Lieut.Col. are simply absurd. I have just received a letter from you. I endorse fully the bravery of Gen'l Tyler. His chief fault was his paying the Connecticut Volunteers the high compliment of believing they could fight like veterans, a compliment not at all to the taste of the Connecticut boys.

Good bye, dear mother.

Love to sisters and all.

Affec'y.,

W. T. Lusk.

_______________

Note. — Dr. Lusk once said that at the time of the mutiny among the 79th Highlanders he had one of the narrowest escapes of his life. A drunken soldier pointed a rifle at his head and fired, but a friend seeing the danger, knocked the muzzle of the gun in the air, just in time to avert catastrophy. In narrating this episode Dr. Lusk remarked with characteristic modesty, “You know I never was very brave, but when the men refused to strike the tents, the officers had to do it themselves.”

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 72-6

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 11, 1861

Meridian Hill, Washington.

Aug. 11th, 1861.

My dear Mother:

I have been overjoyed by a visit from Hunt, who has now probably returned home and reports me hearty and well. I have been fortunate in meeting several friends most unexpectedly during the last few days. Miss Woolsey was at our encampment on some errand of mercy yesterday evening. I saw her for a few moments, and promised to call upon her and Mrs. Howland soon, which I shall do if allowed to leave the camp. The laws are very strict though now, and I doubt whether I shall be able to leave the camp for some time to come. We are now going through a stage dreaded by all officers in the army, viz: that immediately following upon pay-day. Notwithstanding the utmost precautions the men contrive to obtain liquor, and when intoxicated are well-nigh uncontrollable, so that the utmost vigilance is needful. As the number of our officers is but small we are kept almost constantly active. When the money is once spent we will then breathe more freely. To-morrow I am to be the officer commanding the Guard, so I am scribbling a few lines rapidly to-night, as I shall be too busy to attend to such things to-morrow, and the following day too exhausted to do much after twenty-four hour's exertion. You see all the labors of an officer generally are compressed into short seasons of unexampled labor, and long periods of repose. We have now a new Colonel — Governor Stevens of Washington Territory. He seems to be a first class man. His advent among us was inaugurated by an order for us young officers to leave the pleasant rooms we occupied when Hunt was with us, and to return to our tents. This was as it should be; and other strict measures toward officers and men show that he is the right sort of a commander for a Regiment like ours, requiring a strong firm hand to govern it. I trust we may continue to be satisfied with him as our chief officer.

I begin to regard it as a little doubtful as to whether we really return to New York. Military men regard such a movement as unprecedented, and as affording a dangerous example. We will see how it is to end. You ask me regarding Gen’l Tyler! I will answer with all candor that he acted with the utmost bravery on the day of the fight. It was owing to his prompt and energetic action that once, after our Regiment was scattered, when weary and exhausted, having also (Elliott assisting) the additional burden of our wounded Captain to bear away, we escaped a cavalry charge in which many of our men were taken prisoners. When the cavalry came in sight, and all was in confusion, you could hear his quick, sharp voice rallying the disheartened to make such a stand as alone would ensure them victory. The men rallied, poured a volley of musketry into the foe galloping upon us, at the same time giving them two fatal shots from a couple of artillery pieces which luckily were in our possession — at which time I must mention the activity displayed by Ned Harland too. The fire was effective, the cavalry retreated and we marched on unharmed. Such things should shut the mouths of slander. Gen'l Tyler unfortunately played a leading part in a fatal engagement, and consequently must bear an undue share of blame. His great fault seems to have been an overweening confidence in our strength, and a great undervaluation of the enemy. Since the fight I regret to say a spirit of bitterness pervades his conversation as well as his official report of the battle.

I have just seen Lieut.-Col. Elliott, and feel more reason to hope we may return, as was before promised. Give the best of love to all,

And believe me,

Very Affec'y.,

William T. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 70-2

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 5, 1861

Aug. 5th, 1861.

My dear Mother:

Living now quietly without excitement, the events of two weeks ago have become like a dream. Our camp is beautifully situated on Meridian Hill in the suburbs of Washington, and overlooks an enchanting prospect of the city, and the green banks of the Potomac. The air is fresh and healthy, and sickness which has been very prevalent among the men, is now breaking up, and a better appearance is beginning to be seen in the camp. Still the shock we received in the last battle was very great. I have written how great our loss was, and that the same was most heavy among our officers. Fifteen of them, six Captains and nine Lieutenants, nearly half of the entire number, were lost to us that day. On our return to Fort Corcoran after the battle, having walked over thirty miles from the battlefield, having been thirty-six hours without food or sleep, consequently exhausted from fatigue, hunger, and want of rest, we hoped to be allowed to throw ourselves anywhere, and to get a mouthful of anything to eat. The rain poured in torrents and we were soaked to our skins. There was not a cracker to be had at the quarters; there was not a tent to shelter us. We crawled into an old barn. Sherman, the commander of our brigade, ordered us to come out and stand in the rain. Many of the men were desperate. They became clamorous for food. Sherman sneered at them for such unsoldierly conduct. They begged for some place to rest. He bade them sleep on the ground. They had no blankets, many not even a jacket, and all were shivering in the wet. The soil was oozy with water, and deep puddles lay everywhere. The men became querulous. Sherman grew angry, called them a pack of NewYork loafers and thieves.

Oh ye Patriots, was not this a spectacle! Afterward Sherman visited the camp with President Lincoln. The men had grown sullen. As he drove by, they besieged his carriage, hooted him, and reminded him who it was that first basely deserted us on the battlefield, turning his horse's head from us, and leaving us to our fate.

President Lincoln ordered his coachman to drive away.

Affairs were now interesting. Lieut.-Col. Elliott visited the Secretary of War — denounced the conduct of Sherman in the plainest language. Everything served to corroborate his testimony. The Secretary of War then removed us to our present encampment, and placed us in the Brigade of Gen'l Mansfield. We are now doing well, but the past is not forgotten. The men feel that they were wronged, and are discontented; officers feel that they were insulted, and have resigned. Those of us who remain by the Regiment are a mere handful. Under these circumstances, and because the men fought well at Manassas, the Government has concluded to send us to some one of the forts near New-York for a short time, there to recruit, and restore the organization of the Regiment. As it is now, whole companies are without officers. It is thought in a short time we may again be upon a war footing, and ready to win fresh laurels, only laurels that are worn after victory, not the mournful ones that even the defeated may wear after a manful struggle.

I am very much entertained and amused to hear of your accounts of my heroic deeds. You don't know the half of them. I won't pretend to say how many I killed in the fight. About five hundred, I suppose — most of them Colonels, only a few ranking less than a Major. You say you read in the Tribune the statement of the bearing away the body of our good Colonel, made by Lieut. S. R. Elliott, a reliable witness. Yes, my dear Mother, I was one of the little band mentioned in the paragraph, but regarding that dreadful bomb-shell which, exploding, killed five of us, I can only say that I didn't see it. The story originated with the correspondent of the Tribune, who called one night in a beastly state of intoxication, upon Colonel Elliott to inquire the particulars of the fight. We were all somewhat astonished at the particulars as they appeared the next day in the papers. You may have read too, how a certain Captain ––– repeatedly rallied us, and led us back to the fight. Captain ––– was not near the field of battle the whole day, but being a small politician, he stayed at home and composed an account of his gallantry, in which perhaps there was much wisdom. You see, Mother, what reports are worth, and I positively deny all stories regarding myself, with the exception, of course, of such authentic anecdotes as my having killed several hundred Colonels, Lieut.-Colonels and Majors with a ram-rod, which served me as the jaw-bone did Sampson when he went out against the Philistines.

Your letters reach me now with the utmost regularity. Thank Lilly for her kind letter too. I have been looking for Hunt all day to-day. I suppose I shall see you when we are transferred, perhaps to Fort Schuyler.

I was sorry not to see Mrs. Tyler when here.

Very Affec'y.,

William T. Lusk,

Lieutenant Co. K. 79th Regiment.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 67-9

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Louisa Thompson, August 1, 1861

Meridian Hill, Washington,

Aug. 1st, 1861.

Dear Cousin Lou:

I am seated in my tent, the rain is pouring in torrents, and I am at leisure to think of friends at home. You see whom I was first remembering, not having forgotten the kind letter which Mr. Houston brought me from Thompsonville, when I was somewhere over in Virginia. I thank you so much for all the dear, kind expressions of love your letter contained.

Oh! Ah! Here come about twenty-five men or more with complaints, and as the Captain is away, I must straighten up, and play the part of Magistrate. Oh Olympian Jove! Oh Daniel risen to judgment! The malcontents have been severally coaxed, wheedled, threatened, and sent about their business, and the Centurion is once again at leisure. A pleasant thing is this exercise of power, especially when commands can be given in the quietest manner possible, and yet to feel that from your judgment there can be no appeal. In fact, dear Cousin Lou, imagine me when the Captain is away, performing the paternal function towards some hundred grown up children. Ah me! I am growing venerable and cares are weighing heavily upon me.

But I must not forget that I am a veteran soldier now. Poor Horace! How I shall assume superior airs, tell him, when I return home! In fact when, one of these days, I get a furlough and am surrounded by friends, how I shall exercise my soldier's privilege of drawing the long bow! In my first battle, of course, I performed the most remarkable deeds of daring. I shall not pretend to tell you how many Secessionists I killed! Between ourselves though, in all privacy, I will confess that the fearful weapon with which I struck such terror in the hearts of the enemy, was a toy wooden sword, captured by one of our men from a secession boy-baby. In the great battle of Manassas, holding the occasion to be one of greater moment, I made the charge armed with a ramrod, which I picked up on the way thither! I acknowledge I found the work hotter than I anticipated in the latter engagement, and mean in future to go armed in regulation style. The truth of the matter was, that being ordered suddenly to march from our pleasant encampment in Georgetown, I was found unprepared, and must either stay behind, or trust to my pistol in case of emergency. I preferred the latter, and the kind Providence has brought me safely through the fiery ordeal, through which we all had to pass. What think you, dear Cousin Lou of our miserable defeat? It seems hard, as we lost many good men out of our Regiment on that bloody day. I saw many things never to be forgotten. No matter for sickening details though. The ground lost must be recovered at any cost. We have lost out of the 800 who went into the engagement about 150 in killed and wounded, besides some fifty more numbered among the missing. Hardship and exposure have caused much sickness in the camp. Most of the liquor-dealing Captains and Lieutenants who commanded before the battle, have resigned, many others are dead or in the hands of the enemy — so I can give no very cheerful picture of our camp at present. We are to be soon thoroughly reorganized, to be cared for tenderly by the President and Secretary of War, to be recruited to the army standard, and when once more discipline shall be enforced, we trust that the 79th will be able to charge as gallantly as at Manassas, but that the charge may result not in mere loss of life, but in glorious victory.

You would be much entertained, could you only see behind the scenes, at the daring feats of individuals, which are passing the rounds of the papers. A specimen is afforded by a story I read in the Herald of a certain Captain who is reported to have repeatedly rallied the men of the 79th and led them back to battle. Now the fact is that Captain never was within three days journey of the battle, and moreover, at least ten days before the engagement the Colonel threatened him with arrest should he dare to show himself in the Regiment. Captain wrote the article himself, and had it published. This is only an isolated example of the manner by which this war is made to subserve the dirtiest of politicians. I have had no letter from Horace, and but few from home since I left New-York. I suppose some of the letters addressed to me, have been captured by the Secessionists, and have been perused with the same gusto that we felt when a package of the enemy's letters fell into our hands. Of course we had to read them to glean as far as possible the state of political feeling in the South, and I blush to say we read with special interest the tender epistles which fair South Carolina maidens penned for the eye alone of South Carolina heroes. Think of such sacred pages being polluted by the vulgar gaze of a parcel of peddling Yankees.

We learned some of the peculiarities of the Aborigines down South from these epistles. We learned that the ladies are so modest that they write of themselves with a little i — that all Southern babies send their papas "Howdy" — that a certain perfidious —— ——— is “cortin the gall” of one of the brave palmetto soldiers who is congratulated by his sister upon having slain 3000 Yankees — that the ladies in the South are thirsting for the blood of the Northern mercenaries, and, above all, penmanship, spelling and composition showed that the greatest need of the South, is an army of Northern Schoolmasters. Well, Cousin Lou, I must not write for ever, so good-bye. Love to all in Enfield and in Pelham.

Very affectionately,

Wm. T. Lusk,

Lieut. 10th Co. 79th Regiment, Washington.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 63-6

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Louisa Thompson, July 28, 1861

Norwich, July 28th, 1861.

Dear Cousin Louisa:

I will not commence with prefatory remarks but hasten to reply to your questions about my boy. Mr. Abbott returned from Washington to-day. He found Will well, and well cared for at the house of Lt.-Col. Elliott, whose family are bestowing upon him every imaginable kindness. Oh! dear Louisa, God's promise has not failed, and the widow's son is not only safe, but he has added joy to his mother's heart by his noble conduct. Col. Elliott told Mr. Abbott he should be promoted, that his courage and prudence were rare, and eminently qualified him to be an officer. Mr. A. wept as he spoke of his appearance on the battlefield, his courage and resolution never failing though surrounded by his dead and dying comrades. The Colonel said, “that boy is not known, but he must be now.” I do not hesitate to write you this, dear friend. God knows I rejoice tremblingly, but I share him now with the country to whom he is devoting all the energies of his earnest spirit. If you or any friend feel like writing him, direct to Washington, Lieut. William T. Lusk, 10th Co. 79th Highland Regiment; he has not written even me, for he has no time, but as soon as he can be spared he hopes to come to me for a day or two. I notice by the papers he was in the hottest of the fight and that the regiment was covered “with immortal honor.” Tell Laura, as he is connected with the Highlanders, I would like to know something of his Scotch ancestry we have so often laughed about. Pray for him my friend. God never seemed so near as in this dark hour. I know that He pities his sorrowing children, remembering “we are but dust.” With much love to all our dear Enfield friends,

I remain

Affectionately yours,

E. F. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 62-3