near Culpepeb Court-house, Virginia, August 12, 1862.
Dearest Mother,
— . . . I was in different parts of the field with General Gordon, who finally
sent me back to get some artillery through the woods. It was impossible to do
it, because the brush was so thick, and besides, I hadn't been gone five
minutes before the enemy got us under a cross-fire, and our brigade had to
retreat. They advanced so close to the Second before the latter gave way, that
it was easy to distinguish all their features. I think our regiment lost most
at this time; they also inflicted a heavy loss on the regiments opposed to
them. So from what I can gather, I was saved from the hottest fire by being
ordered to look for the artillery. There were four hundred and seventy-four
enlisted men taken into action in the Second. Of these one hundred and twenty
were killed and wounded, and thirty-seven missing. They were not under fire
more than thirty minutes. Twenty-two officers went in, and eight came out; five
were killed, five wounded, four captured, three of whom are thought to be
wounded.
We hear to-day that the enemy have retired to some distance.
If true, we may soon hear more of our missing. Goodwin, Cary, Choate, and
Stephen Perkins were all quite ill, but would not stay away from the fight.
Choate was the only one of the four not killed. Goodwin couldn't keep up with
the regiment; but I saw him toiling up the hill at some distance behind, with
the assistance of his servant . He hardly reached the front when he was killed.
All our officers behaved nobly. Those who ought to have stayed away didn't. It
was splendid to see those sick fellows walk straight up into the shower of
bullets, as if it were so much rain; men, who until this year, had lived lives
of perfect ease and luxury. O, it is hard to believe that we shall never see
them again, after having been constantly together for more than a year. I don't
remember a single quarrel of any importance among our officers during all that
time.
Yesterday I went over the battle-field with the General. The
first man I recognized was Cary. He was lying on his back with his head on a
piece of wood. He looked calm and peaceful, as if he were merely sleeping; his
face was beautiful, and I could have stood and looked at it a long while.
Captain Williams we found next. Then Goodwin, Abbott, and Perkins. They had all
probably been killed instantly, while Cary lived until two o'clock, P. M., of
the next day. His First Sergeant was shot in the leg, and lay by his side all
the time. He says he was very quiet; spoke little, and didn't seem to suffer.
We found a dipper with water, which some Rebel soldier had brought. They took
everything from him after he died, but returned a ring and locket with his
wife's miniature to the sergeant . His was the only dead body I have ever seen
that it was pleasant to look at, and it was beautiful. I saw it again in
Culpeper late that night. All these five were superior men; every one in the
regiment was their friend. It was a sad day for us, when they were brought in
dead, and they cannot be replaced.
The bodies were taken to town, and Lieutenant Francis and I
had them packed in charcoal to go to Washington, where they will be put in
metallic coffins. I took a lock of hair from each one to send to their friends.
It took almost all night to get them ready for transportation.
SOURCE: Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Editor, Harvard
Memorial Biographies, Volume 2, p. 197-9
