Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, June 10, 1862

Headquarters 2d Division,

James Island, June 10th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

I saw a few moments ago a mail-bag walking off — hailed it, and learned that it was going home, and persuaded it to wait a few seconds until I could inform you that I was still safe in limb and life, though we have brisk times in our new position. Genl. Stevens you will notice now has charge of a division. It is a temporary arrangement arising out of the necessities of the case, but I hope it may result in his confirmation as Major-General. I cannot yet say if we are surely to reach Charleston, but hope so. The fact is, I believe Gen. Rosecrans was not far wrong when he charged Genl. Benham with cowardice, drunkenness, and lying. He was Court Martialed and acquitted, and sent down here to take charge of our little army. Right or wrong all despise him. No one trusts him. If we take Charleston it will not be his fault. This is rather bitter, but it is a shame to put such men in command.

Please send Horace $9.00 as my subscription for the Post. I agreed to write an occasional letter for that journal, but have never done so. I shall feel better when it is paid.

When this matter of taking Charleston shall be either brilliantly consummated, thanks to Wright and Stevens, or shall have fizzled out through the folly of Hunter and Benham, if still safe in life and limb, I trust I shall see you once more, but Quien Sabe. We have fighting every day now and new victims swell the list of the battlefield.

Give my best love, my darling mother, to my sisters and all my dear friends.

Your affec. and sleepy son,

will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 152

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: March 12, 1862

Yet near New Madrid, March 12, 1862.

The enemy are separated from us by only a few cornfields, the country is perfectly plain; we can see from our tent door the smoke stacks of their gunboat, and the music of their bands mingles with our own and yet 'tis confounded dull.

I received a letter from you by mail a few days since. The colonel and Sid. and myself take a little ride into the country most every evening for mush and milk and 'tis astonishing what quantities they do eat. We are all in perfect health and good spirits, though since we left Commerce the colonel and major have complained considerably about the fare, but 'tis better than I'm used to, so I have the advantage of them. The evacuation of Manassas, Columbus, etc., have caused considerable anxiety for the outburst of these forces which we think will be on Buel or maybe further east on our little army at the Cumberland Gap. The impression here is that the Rebel army at this place has been greatly reinforced since we arrived here from Kentucky. We number though, full 30,000 (with a brigade that is now advancing to join us) and feel fully able to attend to all of their forces here. General Pope told our colonel yesterday that Foote would be here within 48 hours sure with his gunboats, and that's all we ask.

There is a review now being made of all the troops here by the commanding general. You'd think it quite a spectacle, wouldn't you, to see 25,000 troops in line; 3,000 of them cavalry and 36 pieces of artillery. I was left in charge of the camp, and although I have my horse at hand saddled wouldn't mount him to see them. It's funny how all interest in anything dies away in a person when they have a full view or chance to view the object. We hear a dozen volleys of musketry every now and then, and although we all know there's been a little fight, it doesn't interfere with conversation and nine times out of ten we never hear what caused it. But go up to the hospital and you'll find a couple of long rows of cots, each with an occupant, and they can tell you of the shooting and show a wound that they're prouder of than you can imagine. They and their regiments that were under fire love to tell it over and over, but the rest of the army, through jealousy I believe, never mention it. You'll see a vast deal of state pride here. The 7th Cavalry don't acknowledge the Michigander troopers to be more than the equals of Jeff Thompson's scalawags, and the Michigan boys really seem to think that the 7th regiment is not equal to one company of theirs. But I notice the generals here have all taken their bodyguards from our regiment. The Illinois boys and the Iowaians coalesce more readily and seem to have more family feeling between them than at least either of these state's troops have for those of other states. 'Tis the same in the Southern army. Arkansas and Missouri troops have a mutual hatred for each other that has extended to the citizens of these states. This part of Missouri goes a great deal on old blood the best variety I believe is Catholic French, and these people have a sovereign contempt for the barbarians of the “Arkansaw,” while the Arkansawans accuse the Missourians of toe-kissing proclivities and cowardice

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 65-7

Diary of John Hay: July 18, 1863

To-day we spent six hours deciding on Court Martials, the President, Judge Holt and I. I was amused at the eagerness with which the President caught at any fact which would justify him in saving the life of a condemned soldier. He was only merciless in cases where meanness or cruelty were shown.

Cases of cowardice he was specially averse to punishing with death. He said it would frighten the poor devils too terribly to shoot them. On the case of a soldier who had once deserted and reenlisted, he endorsed: — “Let him fight instead of shooting him!”

One fellow who had deserted, and escaped after conviction, into Mexico, he sentenced, saying: — “We will condemn him as they used to sell hogs in Indiana, as they run.”

He told one good story about U. F. Linder getting a fellow off who had stolen a hog, by advising him to go and get a drink, suggesting that the water was better in Tennessee.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 88-9; Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 68-9; Michael Burlingame, Editor, Inside Lincoln's White House: The Complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 64;

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 23, 1862

The cars which came in from the North last night brought a great many women, children, and negroes from Fredericksburg and its vicinity. The benevolent and patriotic citizens here had, I believe, made some provision for their accommodation. But the enemy had not yet shelled the town.

There is a rumor that Jackson was to appear somewhere in the rear of the enemy, and that the Federal stores which could not be moved with the army had been burnt at Manassas.

Yesterday the President remitted the sentence of a poor lad, sentenced to ball-and-chain for six months, for cowardice, etc. He had endured the penalty three months. I like this act, for the boy had enlisted without the consent of his parents, and was only sixteen years of age.

J. R. Anderson & Co. (having drawn $500,000 recently on the contract) have failed to furnish armor for the gun-boats — the excuse being that iron could not be had for their rolling-mills. The President has ordered the Secretaries of the Navy and War to consult on the propriety of taking railroad iron, on certain tracks, for that purpose.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 195

Diary of Sarah Morgan: July 31, 1862

I believe I forgot to mention one little circumstance in my account of that first night at the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, which at the time struck me with extreme disgust. That was seeing more than one man who had no females or babies to look after, who sought there a refuge from the coming attack. At daylight, one dapper young man, in fashionable array, came stepping lightly on the gallery, carrying a neat carpet-bag in his hand. I hardly think he expected to meet two young ladies at that hour; I shall always believe he meant to creep away before any one was up; for he certainly looked embarrassed when we looked up, though he assumed an air of indifference, and passed by bravely swinging his sack — but I think he wanted us to believe he was not ashamed. I dare say it was some little clerk in his holiday attire; but I can't say what contempt I felt for the creature.

Honestly, I believe the women of the South are as brave as the men who are fighting, and certainly braver than the “Home Guard.” I have not yet been able to coax myself into being as alarmed as many I could name are. They say it is because I do not know the danger. Soit. I prefer being brave through ignorance, to being afraid in consequence of my knowledge of coming events. Thank Heaven, my brothers are the bravest of the brave! I would despise them if they shrunk back, though Lucifer should dispute the path with them. Well! All men are not Morgan boys! They tell me cowards actually exist, though I hope I never met one. The poor men that went to the Asylum for safety might not have what Lavinia calls “a moral backbone.” No wonder, then, they tumbled in there! Besides, I am told half the town spent the night on the banks of the river, on that occasion; and perhaps these unfortunates were subject to colds, and preferred the shelter of a good roof. Poor little fellows! How I longed to give them my hoops, corsets, and pretty blue organdie in exchange for their boots and breeches! Only I thought it was dangerous; for suppose the boots had been so used to running that they should prance off with me, too? Why, it would ruin my reputation! Miss Morgan in petticoats is thought to be “as brave as any other man”; but these borrowed articles might make her fly as fast “as any other man,” too, if panic is contagious, as the Yankees here have proved. One consolation is, that all who could go with any propriety, and all who were worthy of fighting, among those who believed in the South, are off at the seat of war; it is only trash, and those who are obliged to remain for private reasons, who still remain. Let us count those young individuals as trash, and step over them. Only ask Heaven why you were made with a man's heart, and a female form, and those creatures with beards were made as bewitchingly nervous?

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 137-9

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, June 14, 1862

Camp Near Newtown,

June 14, 1862.

After about eighteen days' absence, here we are back again in Virginia, camped on the identical piece of ground where the fight raged the fiercest on Saturday night, the 24th of May. We crossed the Potomac the 10th, Tuesday, and bivouacked on this side of the river; the next morning we started early, six o'clock, and marched to Bunker Hill, twenty-two miles, camping there that night; the next day we marched twenty miles to this place. Our march through Winchester was with closed ranks, band playing “John Brown,” “Yankee Doodle” and “Dixie,” and our old Harper's Ferry flag flying, almost torn to pieces by the bullets of the Twenty-fourth and Twenty-fifth. People scowled as we marched through town.

As I said before, our camp is on the ground occupied by us in the first skirmish of Saturday night, and what is a still more striking coincidence, our mess tent is pitched on the exact piece of ground that our skirmishers rallied on when they poured in such a deadly fire to the rebel cavalry. The last man of ours that was killed here was buried close by, by a citizen. Yesterday afternoon, I rode back to Winchester and over the battle field. The effects of the artillery were still very apparent; stone walls and fences knocked to pieces, trees cut off, etc. Near where our right was, are three graves of our men who were killed there.

I had a very pleasant visit to the hospital where our wounded are; they are mostly looking very well. It does one good to see how they brighten up when one of their officers comes into the room where they are. I believe I spoke in one of my last letters about a private named Stevens, in our company, whom I saw wounded, first by a piece of shell, then by a bullet. The poor fellow is dead; I could not find out any particulars about him yesterday, only that he died in hospital June 4th. He was a very good boy, not more than eighteen years old; he was one of the recruits that joined us last fall; he always did his duty faithfully, and was a brave little fellow. It seems sadder about him because he had an older brother in the company, who always took care of him when anything was the matter. He has been very anxious since the fight, and now the first news he has received is of his death. It is a severe shock, but he bears it bravely, and says he feels happy that his brother never showed himself a coward.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 68-9

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 10, 1862

My husband has come. He believes from what he heard in Richmond that we are to be recognized as a nation by the crowned heads across the water, at last. Mr. Davis was very kind; he asked him to stay at his house, which he did, and went every day with General Lee and Mr. Davis to the battle-field as a sort of amateur aide to the President. Likewise they admitted him to the informal Cabinet meetings at the President's house. He is so hopeful now that it is pleasant to hear him, and I had not the heart to stick the small pins of Yeadon and Pickens in him yet a while.

Public opinion is hot against Huger and Magruder for McClellan's escape. Doctor Gibbes gave me some letters picked up on the battlefield. One signed “Laura,” tells her lover to fight in such a manner that no Southerner can ever taunt Yankees again with cowardice. She speaks of a man at home whom she knows, “who is still talking of his intention to seek the bubble reputation at the cannon's mouth.” “Miserable coward!” she writes, “I will never speak to him again.” It was a relief to find one silly young person filling three pages with a description of her new bonnet and the bonnet still worn by her rival. Those fiery Joan of Arc damsels who goad on their sweethearts bode us no good.

Rachel Lyons was in Richmond, hand in glove with Mrs. Greenhow. Why not? “So handsome, so clever, so angelically kind,” says Rachel of the Greenhow, “and she offers to matronize me.”

Mrs. Philips, another beautiful and clever Jewess, has been put into prison again by “Beast” Butler because she happened to be laughing as a Yankee funeral procession went by.

Captain B. told of John Chesnut's pranks. Johnny was riding a powerful horse, captured from the Yankees. The horse dashed with him right into the Yankee ranks. A dozen Confederates galloped after him, shouting, “Stuart! Stuart!” The Yankees, mistaking this mad charge for Stuart's cavalry, broke ranks and fled. Daredevil Camden boys ride like Arabs!

Mr. Chesnut says he was riding with the President when Colonel Browne, his aide, was along. The General commanding rode up and, bowing politely, said: “Mr. President, am I in command here?” “Yes.” “Then I forbid you to stand here under the enemy's guns. Any exposure of a life like yours is wrong, and this is useless exposure. You must go back.” Mr. Davis answered: “Certainly, I will set an example of obedience to orders. Discipline must be maintained.” But he did not go back.

Mr. Chesnut met the Haynes, who had gone on to nurse their wounded son and found him dead. They were standing in the corridor of the Spotswood. Although Mr. Chesnut was staying at the President's, he retained his room at the hotel. So he gave his room to them. Next day, when he went back to his room he found that Mrs. Hayne had thrown herself across the foot of the bed and never moved. No other part of the bed had been touched. She got up and went back to the cars, or was led back. He says these heartbroken mothers are hard to face.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 201-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, July 6, 1864

July 6, 1864

We have no rain here — never expect any; air hazy with a faint dust, finer than twice volted flour, which settles on everything — but that won't kill anybody. So Ewell is (or was — don't know his whereabouts at this precise moment) at Harper's Ferry. We knew he was poking up there somewhere. As to the A. of P., it is sitting here, trying to get some fresh cabbages, not very successfully, so far — the last issue, I am told, furnished one small one to every fifteen men. Old Uncle Lee is “in posish,” as General Williams would say, and seems to remark: “Here I am; I have sent off Ewell; now why don't you come on?” I suppose you think I speak flippantly of what the French call the “situation”; but one gets so desperate that it is no use to be serious. Last night, after I had got to bed, I heard the officer of the day go with a despatch into the General's tent and wake him up. Presently the General said: “Very well, tell General Wright to send a good division. I suppose it will be Ricketts's.” And he turned over and went asleep again. Not so Ricketts, who was speedily waked up and told to march to City Point, thence to take steamers for Washington, or rather for Baltimore. We do not appreciate now, how much time, and labor, and disappointment, and reorganization, and turning out bad officers, have to be done, before an army can be got in such condition that a division of several thousand men may be suddenly waked at midnight and, within an hour or so, be on the march, each man with his arms and ammunition ready, and his rations in his haversack. Now, nobody thinks of it. General Meade says, “Send Ricketts”; and turns over and goes to sleep. General Ricketts says, “Wake the Staff and saddle the horses.” By the time this is done, he has written some little slips of paper, and away gallop the officers to the brigade commanders, who wake the regimental, who wake the company, who wake the non-commissioned, who wake the privates. And each particular private, uttering his particular oath, rises with a groan, rolls up his shelter-tent, if he has one, straps on his blanket, if he has not long since thrown it away, and is ready for the word “Fall in!” When General Ricketts is informed that all are ready, he says: “Very well, let the column move” — or something of that sort. There is a great shouting of “By the right flank, forward!” and off goes Ricketts, at the head of his troops, bound for City Point; and also bound, I much regret to say, for the Monocacy,¹ where I fancy his poor men stood up and did all the fighting. From what I hear, I judge we had there about 10,000, of whom a good part were next to worthless. The Rebs had, I think, some 12,000, all good troops. This General Wallace is said by officers here to be no general at all, though brave; and General Tyler is the man whom General Humphreys had tried for cowardice, or some misbehavior in the presence of the enemy; and who has, in consequence, an undying hate for the Chief-of-Staff. I remember thinking to myself, as I went to sleep — “division — why don't they send a corps and make a sure thing?” Behold my military forethought!

_______________

¹ Monocacy Bridge — the scene of Early's defeat of Lew Wallace, which terrified Washington, and caused much consternation in the North.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 184-5

Diary of Josephine Shaw Lowell: June 6, 1862

Letter from Rob giving a description of a cavalry charge on two of their companies, before he reached Winchester, and then of their march through Winchester. Short but graphic, and Father thinks of having it printed as being interesting. All the account of brave deeds, bayonet charges, calmly receiving the fire of the enemy and withholding their own, and all the stirring accounts of courageous men, make one so long to be with them. I should of all things enjoy a forlorn hope (I think). Well put in, I suppose, but still I really do think so, for I'm not an atom afraid of death and the enthusiasm of the moment would be sublime. An immense body of brave men is grand and I would give anything to be one of them. I cannot express what a sense of admiration and delight fills my soul when I think of the noble fellows advancing, retreating, charging and dying, just how, when and where they are ordered. God bless them! Mother says she hates to hear me talk so, but I think one loses sight of the wounds and suffering, both of the enemy and one's own force, in thinking of the sublime whole, the grand forward movement of thousands of men marching “into the jaws of death,” calmly and coolly. God bless them! I say again. I saw today the report of a Lieutenant in the First Massachusetts expelled for cowardice in the face of the enemy. Such a thing I cannot understand. I should think a man would be afraid to be a coward in front of his men, all looking to him for example. I should think he'd go and shoot himself. I remember hearing it said that . . . would never have been taken prisoner if he had behaved well. And then, think of a man, with consciousness of such conduct, daring to come home and show his face in Boston! Bah! Perhaps he did behave well after all, though.

SOURCE: William Rhinelander Stewart, The Philanthropic Work of Josephine Shaw Lowell, p. 28-9

Brigadier General William T. Sherman to Ellen Ewing Sherman, August 19, 1861

FORT CORCORAN, August 19, 1861.

. . . Among my regiments are three who claim to have been enlisted only for three months, but the Secretary of War has decided they are in for two years. In each of the regiments there has been a kind of mutiny, not open and decided, but a determination to do no duty.

Yesterday, Sunday, I had two companies of regular cavalry and one of artillery ready to attack one of these regiments. For some hours I thought I would have to give an order to fire, but they did not like the artillery and have gone to duty; but I think this is a bad class of men to depend on to fight. They may eat their rations and go on parade, but when danger comes they will be sure to show the white feather.

Still, they are now in a state of subjection. I went over to Washington on this business some days ago, saw the President and General Scott; at the table of the latter I met Robert Anderson for the first time. I only had a few words with him, but on Saturday he sent for me to meet him at Willard's. There I found Senator Johnson, a Mr. Maynard, and two or three other members of Congress from Kentucky and Tennessee. One of them, Senator Johnson I think, premised by saying that it was the determination of the government to send assistance to the Union men of Kentucky and Tennessee; that there were large numbers of them who merely needed arms, money and organization; that Anderson was the proper general to organize and lead the movement; but that his health was liable at any moment to fail him, and the President had agreed that he might select any three of the Brigadiers to go with him; that he had at once asked for me, and two others, Burnside and Thomas, which was conceded; that when McClellan heard I was asked for he did not want to spare me, as he thought there remained imminent danger of an attack here. Then Anderson said he would prefer to wait a few days till things assumed a more settled shape — say seven to ten days, at the expiration of which time I should be relieved, and ordered to Kentucky. I have said or done nothing one way or other, but in about seven days I will, if nothing threatening happens, apply for relief that I may stop at Lancaster to see you, for a day or so. I expect to go to Louisville and thence through East Kentucky and Tennessee, to see myself the state of the country, and if possible, to organize resistance to the southern Confederacy. It is a matter of great importance and upon it may hang the existence of the present government.

Most assuredly events have favored the southern Confederacy, and instead of making friends, the administration seems to have lost ground, not only in the South and Middle States, but also in the North. The clamor for discharge on every possible frivolous pretext has been a severe blow to the army and may be to the country. I hear that the new enlistments drag. This every reasonable person must have apprehended from the foolish cry first raised, a mere impulse sure to be followed by reaction. . . .

SOURCES: M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Editor, Home Letters of General Sherman, p. 217-8.  A full copy of this letter can be found in the William T Sherman Family papers (SHR), University of Notre Dame Archives (UNDA), Notre Dame, IN 46556, Folder CSHR 1/139.

What The War Department Thinks Of Cowards

Complaint having been made by General Lander of the misconduct of an officer under his command and the matter referred to the Secretary of War, the following instructions were given:

WAR DEPARTMENT, Feb. 13, 1862

If General Lander is satisfied that Col. Anastanzel was guilty of cowardice or misbehavior before the enemy, he may be tried on the spot, or he may be cashiered by his commanding General at the head of his regiment.  The former course is recommended as the preferable one.  Cowardice in an officer, exhibited on the field of battle, should receive the swift punishment of death.

EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 1, 1862, p. 1

See Also:

•  “Skirmish at Blooming Gap,” Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Thursday Morning, February 27, 1862, p. 2

Skirmish at Blooming Gap

The following is a vivid description of one of those bold exploits for which Gen. Lander is so noted.  What could surpass the cool courage of riding into a body of officers and demanding their swords?

Gen. Lander’s intention was to charge through the Gap in the night, as the position of the enemy could not be turned, and then halt his cavalry on the east side of the town, and check their retreat toward Winchester until the infantry provided for a support arrived.  It was believed that whatever force of the rebels, in the darkness and confusion the quarters of the officers could be surrounded and the officers taken before their men could form.  It was one of those dashing exploits for which this officer has been so justly celebrated.  But the enemy had retired beyond the town, and when led by the General and his staff the cavalry flew through the Gap and rallied beyond it, the bird had flown.  Col. Anastanzel was at once ordered to push forward on the Winchester road with the cavalry, reconnoiter, and, if possible, overtake and capture the baggage of the enemy.

Gen. Lander meantime brought up Col. Carroll with the 8th Ohio regiment, and the 7th Virginia, Col. Evans, for a support.  Col. Anastanzel encountered the enemy at the head of the pass, two miles from Blooming.  He was met by a sharp fire, and halted his command, instead of pushing through to the front.  On hearing the firing Gen. Lander came up and ordered Anastanzel forward.  The men faltered before the musketry of the enemy, when Lander saying “follow me,” halting at the head of the column only long enough to tell the men to remember their holy mission and follow their General to victory.  His appeal was answered by one private named John Cannon, a Virginia refugee.  Gen. Lander charged, followed by Major Armstrong, Ass’t Adj’t General; Fitz Jas. O’Brien, the well known poet, of his staff, and Major Bannister, Paymaster U. S. A. who had volunteered for the expedition.  A group of rebel officers were distant about 300 yards, encouraging their men.  Gen. Lander being mounted on his celebrated horse, outran the rest of the party, and cut off the retreat of the rebel officers, “Surrender, gentlemen,” he said and coolly dismounting, extended his hand to receive the sword of Col. Baldwin, whom an instant before he had appeared, to outside observers, to be riding directly over.  Five of the rebel officers surrendered to Gen. Lander, and four more immediately afterward, to the officers of his staff, among them the Assistant Adjutant General of Gen. Carson.

By this time the rebel infantry, perceiving the small number of their adversaries commenced a heavy fire from the woods, but the cavalry had recovered from its panic and now poured up the hill.  Gen. Lander once more ordered Anastanzel to charge up the road and capture the baggage of the enemy.  The cavalry dashed forward; the advance guard soon overtook and turned out of the road fifteen wagons and horses, but the main force of the cavalry seemed paralyzed and would not face the fire.  Two of the gallant privates in front were shot by the enemy, who had again rallied and there was another check.  Colonel Evans now came up with his regiment of infantry, and captured many more of the rebels.  Gen. Lander shot at one of his own cavalry men who refused to go forward, saying, “The next time I’ll hit you, and if you don’t clear the road this regiment I shall deploy and fire upon you.”  Col. Carroll then came up; “Go on,” said Gen. Lander to Carroll, “we need you now – clear them out and take their baggage.”  Col. Carroll cleared the road as he went, both infantry regiments behaving admirably; following the engaging enemy to the last, until ordered back.  The pursuit was continued eight miles.

The result of this affair was the capture of 18 commissioned officers and 45 non-commissioned officers and privates.  Thirty of the rebels were killed, with a loss on our side of seven killed and wounded.  Col. Carroll drove the enemy beyond the limits of Gen. Lander’s department and returned.

Gen. Lander has applied to the Governor of Maryland for the promotion of John Cannon to a Lieutenantcy.

Gen. Lander subsequently made complaint to Secretary Stanton of Col. Anastanzel’s unsoldierly conduct.  The following was the Secretary’s characteristic reply:–

WAR DEPARTMENT, Feb. 13 1862.

“If Gen. Lander is satisfied that Col. Anastanzel was guilty of cowardice or misbehavior before the enemy, he may be tried on the spot, and if found guilty, the sentence of death may be executed on the spot, or he may be cashiered by his commanding General at the head of his regiment.  The former course is recommended as the preferable one.  Cowardice in an officer, exhibited on the field of battle should receive the swift punishment of death.

EDWIN M. STANTON,

Secretary of war.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Thursday Morning, February 27, 1862, p. 2

Cowards

The friend who sent us Liet. [sic] Jackson’s letter for publication says, “In another letter, Lieut. Jackson speaks of one or two cowards, but says he will mention no names, so we are left in the dark as to who they are, excepting what we hear from other sources. We think they should be published as an example.”

Now, we think entirely different. No man is a coward by his own choice or election. – Cowardice, although considered an unworthy trait of character – certainly an unfortunate one – is a natural result of the peculiar organization of the despised being who is afflicted with it; he can no more control the de[illegible] of it in the face of danger than [illegible: an infant?] can keep from crying when in pain: it is a fact, it cannot be of his own willful making and is not a crime; and therefore we should pity rather than abuse the miserable creature whose physical deficiency makes him a coward. Thus far we differ with “civilized” society. We have not the heart to abuse a man because he can’t help running when another points a loaded gun at him and means to shoot. Although it is an unfortunate thing for our army that there are so many of that kind of men in it, yet there are cowards at home, as well as in the army, of a different manner and character – a kind of moral coward – who willfully take advantage of every opportunity to strike at the heart of loyalty, by continually finding faults and magnifying them, in the character and conduct of the only loyal and brave. Such persons do more injury to the cause of the Union that the man who runs from bullets can possibly do.

When we have a little more time and space we propose showing up these moral cowards in their proper light. They are the persons to make “examples” of, and not the poor fool who is a coward against his own will.

– Published in the Stark County News, Thursday, February 5, 1863