Showing posts with label Isaac I Stevens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isaac I Stevens. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Commandant Samuel F. DuPont to Gustavus V. Fox, January 4, 1862

Confidential.
Port Royal, Jany. 4, 62.
My Dear Sir

The Vanderbilt played us a scurvy trick yesterday, having gone off without our mail, paid no attention to a gun from this ship, nor to a Tug which followed her out to the bar making signals all the time. Whether it was accident or design for a particular purpose — I cannot say.

The Oriental takes to-day the official reports of a clever joint Expedition, well conducted on both sides, in which the gun boats have been signally successful and drawing as much admiration from the troops engaged, as the whole fleet did on the day of the capture of the Forts.

The getting of them up the Port Royal or Beaufort River and then into the Coosaw (our Potomac) but thoroughly swept now, was a great feat, like the Spaniards over the dykes in Holland. Of course they often grounded, but they care no more for this than putting a mud flat on the beach. With light anchors hanging from the bowsprit and the armed boats from this ship they were even turned in their length — it having been asserted they would not be able to do this in either of the rivers. The truth is, wherever Raymond Rodgers is, things are sure to go right — he possesses more enterprise with care and forethought combined than I have met with before. Gen. Stevens has sent me a handsome letter in reference to the cooperation, semi-official. Our howitzers under Irwin composed their only field artillery. This army code of signals is very superior, Rodgers and Stevens kept up the most perfect communication. The general impression is that the rebels did not come up to the mark, after a great deal of taunting and invitation heretofore for our troops to “dare come” on the fort land, and leave the islands. Our shell did immense execution. A Colonel out with the skirmishers could see them burst among the rebel troops within the line of works—four men literally torn in fragments were killed by the bursting of one. Stevens thinks Evans was in command — the Leesburg man.

Now My Dear friend a little business. In order to carry out the above Expedition which has raised very much the morale of our troops, and in spite of themselves giving them a still higher opinion of us, I had to withdraw Ammen from Edisto, leaving Budd shaking in his boots lest the Charleston Navy come down upon him. The Ottawa had to come up from Tybee leaving Drayton with a lame duck the Wyandotte, and the old Vandalia, with heavy fire rafts building up the river. A three hundred feet one having been cut adrift by a loyal man from under Pulaski, was caught in Tybee and gave us excellent timber. The Pembina had to be taken from old Gillis threatened by the Georgia Navy in Wassaw, the 'Andrew' being disabled in her rudder. The blockading ships are getting out of coal and how I can relieve them I can hardly tell. Now, most important operations are pending between the Comdg General and myself based on naval and army reconnaissances and contraband knowledge, of communications from Wassaw inlet into the Savannah River, also into the latter, through the islands on its northern or left bank, such as Venus and Elba—allowing Pulaski to be cut off from all supplies, a vastly better plan than a regular approach with mortars, which will cost a half million of dollars. I send a report from Captain Gilmore and wish I had John Rodgers' sent up last night from Wassaw (another man worth his weight in Gold) and you would then have some insight into our plans. We can debouche into the Savannah river between Pulaski and Jackson, rather near the latter, and hold the river there against Tattnall while the troops are occupying Elba and fortifying it. On the mainland there is hard ground enough for Sherman to move on the city, but he must have cavalry; he can get there by boats through the inland waters and is now drawing up piles from Wall's Cut, sunk after the fight here and a hulk sunk besides. Now I don't want to press you — but I am spread to my utmost capacity and if you cannot send me more of the regular Gunboats and particularly one or two of the new side wheel ones, (one of them to be given to John Rodgers) why I must wait — because you are the judge and not me where they are most wanted. I won't growl, but you have sent me nothing yet. Another item. Our army friends beat us all to pieces on the means of communicating and transportation, and I have to fall back upon them oftener than is pleasant to them — for example I did not dare remove my force from Wassaw and had to get them to tow down a coal ship for me, and by the way this brought up a question of insurance and further compensation to the Collier, please see to this in future charters. I have already asked the Department for a dispatch vessel. I dare not send the Tugs outside. No Commodores Perry nor Barney yet, and what has become of that Light vessel! Coal, Coal too, please tell Lenthall — fortunately the army has long strings of coal vessels and have given us one to-day. Please also tell Mr. Lenthall three of his carpenters have gone home and we want more, a good boat builder among them, sending none but such as are willing to stay. Please hurry on the Forbes and what has become of Watmough! No machinery yet for Unadilla a painful lame bird and an eye sore in the harbor — if her commander a very worthy man is promoted do send a flash of a fellow out to her.

Steedman has sent me word that the Nassau people are going to try Cedar Keys, afraid of the North East gales on this side and so many of their small craft having been run into the breakers the last by the Gem of the Sea at Georgetown. I am dispatching the Florida there though it is on McKean's ground, for she may catch the Gladiator or her cargo distributed, and she will see to the safety of the Lighthouses &c. The Rail Road from Cedar Keys has caused this diversion from this Coast.

We are getting short of officers. The Vandalia is very short.

We had news from Wassaw last night that the Negroes were to have a stampede from Savannah—the Fingal had gone back and unloaded, and that Tattnall's vessel had been burnt by the slaves — that 17000 men were between Sh & Brunswick, intending to set fire to the former city when overpowered. Some of the contraband who bring news in this way are very superior darkies. “William” who went with the Gun boats especially so. I intend to give him fifty dolls for his pilotage and enter him as a Pilot — he knows every foot of the inland waters. These men risk their lives to serve us without the slightest hesitation, indeed like Governor Pickens they seem insensible to fear — make no bargains about their remuneration, leave all that with entire confidence to us. The batteries at Skiddaway, Thunderbolt, and Green island (on the Ogeechee) are pretty fierce and the water shallow — but what I have told you above will fool them all. The contraband report great gloom in Savannah at what they call the apology to England, every one looking to a war. A thousand cavalry in from Virginia and say the rebels have given up Western Virga.

Best regards to Mr. Welles.
Yours faithfully
S. F. Dupont
Hon. G. V. Fox Ass. Sec
Washington

I have nothing from my home since 10" Dec. I believe our Lyceum mail don't come. Savannah bad with scurvy has come in for wood and water and provisions.

SOURCE: Robert Means Thompson & Richard Wainwright, Editors, Publications of the Naval Historical Society, Volume 9: Confidential Correspondence of Gustavus Vasa Fox, Assistant Secretary of the Navy, 1861-1865, Volume 1, p. 86-90

Friday, March 29, 2019

Laura M. Towne: May 13, 1862

St. Helena's, May 13, 1862.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1 Brigadier-General Isaac I. Stevens.
2 Plantation.

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

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Diary Laura M. Towne: May 12, 1862

Monday, May 12, 1862.
The black day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, July 12, 2018

Brigadier-General Daniel Tyler, about August 1863

I ask the acceptance of this resignation. Capt. Lusk has been in most of the battles including the First Bull Run, from Beaufort to the death of Major-Gen. Stevens, whose Staff he was on from the date of Gen. Stevens's promotion to his death. Capt. Lusk, so soon as he heard of the occupation of Maryland Heights, left New-York City, came to Point of Rocks, and walked to Harper's Ferry, and volunteered for duty at a moment when I was much in need of his services, and to make him available I recommended him for the appointment of Asst. Adjt.Genl. and he was appointed accordingly, with the expectation that when the prospect of fighting at that point was over, his resignation would be accepted. Under the circumstances, as Capt. Lusk is on the point of commencing a professional life in the City of New-York, I ask the acceptance of his resignation, knowing that there never will be an emergency like that at Gettysburg and Maryland Heights, that Capt. Lusk will not be found at the front.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 294

Friday, May 18, 2018

Request for a Pass from the Secretary Of War, Permitting Lt.-Col. Lusk to Return to the Scene of Conflict, May 4, 1863

Office Of The District Attorney Of The United States, For The Southern District Of NewYork.
New-York, May 4th, 1863.
Honorable Montgomery Blair,

My dear Sir:

This will introduce to you Wm. T. Lusk, Lt.-Col. of the “Blair Light Infantry” now organizing in this city. Col. Lusk can't rest easily here while the battle is raging around Fredericksburg. He therefore desires to reach the battlefield, that he may tender his services as Volunteer Aide, so long as active operations continue, and then return to his duties here. With this motive, he desires a pass from the Sec. of War, to the scene of conflict. Col. Lusk has been two years in service, was for a long time Aide to the late Gen. Stevens, has been in many battles, and I believe be loves to fight. He is a gentleman in character and culture, and a soldier by practice and experience. If you can aid him to obtain the pass he desires, I shall be very much obliged.

Respectfully,
Your Obedient Servant,
Ethan Allen.

Mr. Watson would oblige me by favoring the wishes of Col. Lusk.

Truly,
M. Blair.
P. H. Watson.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 281

Thursday, March 22, 2018

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, December 22, 1862

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.
Dec. 22nd, 1862.
My dear Mother:

Since the late disastrous affair at Fredericksburg, as before, I look in vain for some tidings from you. These mails! As for me, it is of less importance, for the letters you write me will eventually reach me, but with you I hope that long ere this, you may have had the pleasant tidings of my safety throughout the late battle. Of that fight I have not words to express my indignation. It was so uncalled for. Not being a participant myself, only an anxious witness, I can fully appreciate the terrible character of the massacre. No one was more desirous than I for an onward movement, but not for such an one. The idea of an attempt directly in the front was scouted at by those who professed to know, as sheer madness, concerning which the result could not be doubtful. Yet it was attempted, but at whose orders we cannot tell. Rumors reach us of the resignation of Lincoln's Cabinet. God grant this be true. We may fall into worse hands, but there is the hope of something better. I have lost faith in Halleck, and for this reason. Last summer I wrote Walter I had cheered the last time for McClellan. I did this on the authority of Gen. Halleck. Halleck was an unsuccessful competitor of Stevens for the honors of his class. At Newport News Halleck had an interview with Stevens, the result of which I afterwards learned. In this interview Halleck represented McClellan as solely responsible for the misfortunes of the Peninsula; represented that McClellan had received everything from the administration he had requested; that McClellan was responsible for the division in his command, resulting in the creation of McDowell's Department. This and much else against McClellan, which Halleck's subsequent report, and the revelations from the McDowell Court of Inquiry, prove to have been base and malignant falsehoods. Since then it has been my good fortune to have been twice in battle under McClellan. How admirably those battles were planned and executed, I, who have seen so much mismanagement, so many defeats, know best how to appreciate. Therefore I say, as I heard a rebel officer once say “God bless old Stonewall Jackson,” ‘God bless McClellan.” We have had enough of Halleck — and disgrace.

Mother, do not wonder that my loyalty is growing weak. I love the Nation too well to willingly pardon the “unfortunate Abraham Lincoln” as the London Times so aptly calls him. With resources enough to have long since ended the controversy, with resources enough to end it before the opening of Spring, sixty years will not end it if we are obliged to sustain the paltry policy of the administration. I am sick and tired of disaster, and the fools that bring disaster upon us. I believe Burnside to be brave and honest, a good soldier and worthy of honor, but I know that no one in this country has a heartier esteem for McClellan than he. No one bends more to McClellan than Gen. Burnside. The President I doubt not is honest, but “let the shoemaker stick to the last.” Let Lincoln turn his talents to splitting rails. I prefer George McClellan to Abraham Lincoln, as the Commander-in-Chief of the Army. The same energy, the same good-sense, the same foresight exhibited by us that the South has shown, and the rebellion is a dead letter. The same fatal disregard of common sense on our part, and the Southern independence is won. At least so I feel, and so I write strongly, who so earnestly pray for the triumph of our cause.

I have just received your letter, and feel truly thankful to learn you had heard of my safety previous to the arrival of my own letter written the day after we recrossed the Rappahannock. Day before yesterday I was on picket, and saw several officers of the rebel service who came to our lines under a flag of truce. One of them who came from near Atlanta, told me he knew Alfred Tyler; that it was a mistake that Alfred was on Gen. Lawton's staff; that, on the contrary, he still was employed on the Macon and Atlanta R. R., and was reputed to be one of the truest supporters of the Southern movement in his district. The same officer, Capt. McBride, appeared to know enough of Tyler's family and family affairs to make his statement worthy of credit. The same officer further told me that among the brave officers of his army that fell at Fredericksburg, was Henry Lord King, whom you will remember was an old admirer of Sarah Phelps. King fell, pierced by nine minie balls, in the attack made on our left (Franklin's Division). Morrison professes to be a strong supporter of mine now. He says that there had been so much intriguing in the Regiment, that he suspected me for some time, but my action with regard to More has fully satisfied him, and he professes himself anxious to serve me in any way. What the professions are worth I have yet to learn.

Give my best, my dearest love to my sisters. Tell Uncle Phelps that I leave my proposition to be settled according to his judgment, and with best love to him and all my friends, I remain,

Your affec. son,
W. T. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 254-7

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, Saturday, December 20, 1862

New-York, Dec. 20th, 1862,
Saturday.
My own dear, dear Son:

I have many times during the past week thought of writing you, but I could not. Disaster, death, and the sickness of distressing fears have kept me quiet, striving for a firm trust and confidence in the mercy of God. My mind has been greatly relieved on your account, by seeing in the Herald that Burns' Division, of which the 79th formed a part, were not under fire, although they rendered important service. Thanks and praise to Him who has, I trust, again brought you safely through the perils of the battlefield. When the news of the repulse, with the dreadful loss on our side, reached New-York, gloom and despondency rested on all who had hearts to feel for anything. The sickening list of dead and wounded have been read over again and again, by mothers and sisters with tears and groans. Fathers sink their heads in anguish, and for all this distress and agony, we have gained nothing. But my dear son, the Nation is now I believe fully aroused, and the awful responsibility of this dreadful slaughter must rest where it belongs. None of our rulers, we hope and believe, will now escape the searching ordeal, and though this thought brings little consolation to the “desolated hearth,” yet for the brave hearts still “battling for their country,” it may bring some cheer. I visited St. Vincent's Hospital yesterday with your Aunt Maria, who is constantly doing good from her abundant means to the sick and wounded soldiers. I talked with one poor fellow who had lost a leg, and was lying weak and pale in bed. He was so uncomplaining, so cheerful, I looked and wondered. He was so glad to get newspapers, he felt anxious about his brothers in the army before Fredericksburg, he had looked over the lists and their names were not there, and so he hoped they were safe. I told him I had my anxieties too, I had a dear son there, but so many days had passed I had courage to hope now. I learnt a lesson by that bedside. I am waiting, watching for letters from you. I feel that good reasons of some kind prevent my hearing. Sam and Wm. Elliott called to see me last Sunday evening, but I was out, which I deeply regretted. Lilly saw them, as they called first at our boarding-house, 24 West 31st Street. I am still on Murray Hill, but am going into my own apartments early next week. Wm. Elliott said he saw in Washington a picture of Gen. Stevens and his staff, and as he was buying one for himself he also bought one for us, which he would soon bring to us. The likeness of you he says is very good. Dr. Elliott has been transferred to the Second Hawkins Zouaves and will be in N. Y., he thinks, two months longer. I presume your Uncle will write you about your proposition to raise money for the Highlanders uniform. He seems to be considering the matter, though he has said little except that it would be well, and might perhaps be done, if you could come on yourself. We do not feel that the Highlanders, although a valiant Regt., have been just or kind to you. We are proud of the deeds of that gallant corps however, and if they do you the justice that is your due, I think your friends would gladly assist them. Nellie is hurrying me so I must close. Charlie Johnson is engaged to Miss Julia White, sister to Dr. Lee's wife.

God bless you, my own dear son. If the prayers of mother and sisters are indeed a shelter, ours have not been in vain. May God guard, guide, be with you everywhere, is my constant cry to Him. Uncle P., Aunt M., Nellie, Thomas, Lilly, all unite in love to you and in gratitude to God for your preservation from danger.

Always my own dear, dear son, your very

Loving Mother.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 252-4

Saturday, February 24, 2018

Captain William Thompson Lusk & Elizabeth Adams Lusk, November 19, 1862

Near Fredericksburg,         
Nov. 19th, 1862.
My dear Mother:

Here we are at last on familiar ground, lying in camp at Falmouth, opposite to Fredericksburg. I have been unable while on the march for the few days past, to write you, but am doing my best with a pencil to-night, as one of our Captains returns home to-morrow, and will take such letters as may be given him. It was my turn to go home this time, but my claim was disregarded. You know Lt.-Col. Morrison has command of the Regiment in Col. Farnsworth's absence, and Morrison never omits any opportunity to subject me to petty annoyances. I am an American in a Scotch Regiment, and in truth not wanted. Yet I cannot resign. The law does not allow that, so I have to bear a great deal of meanness. Stevens in his lifetime knowing how things stood, kept in check the Scotch feeling against interlopers like Elliott and myself. . . . I do not exaggerate these things. I used to feel the same way in old times, but had been so long separated from the regiment as almost to forget them. I have borne them of late without complaint, hoping the efforts of my friends might work my release. In the Regiments of the old Division I think no officer had so many strong friends as I. In my own Regiment I may say that I am friendless. (I except McDonald). In the Division I had a reputation. In my Regiment I have none. After eighteen months of service I am forced to bear the insults of a man who is continually telling of the sacrifices he has made for his country, because he abandoned on leaving for the war, a small shop where he made a living by polishing brasses for andirons.

Forgive me, my dear mother, for complaining. It does me good sometimes, for then after speaking freely, I always determine afresh that if these things must be, I will nevertheless do my duty, and in so doing maintain my self-respect. Love to all, dear mother. Good-bye.

Very affec'y.,
William T. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 229-30

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, November 1862

Near Rectorville, Va.
November, 1862.
My dear Mother:

I received your half reproachful letter last night just after I had gone to bed, and thought that perhaps I might have made a little too much of the difficulties of writing without pens, ink, stand, and oftentimes in the cold with numb fingers after a day's march. These things make me disinclined to write letters, yet I should know by the pleasure the receipt of your missives affords me, that to occasion like pleasure in return should be sufficient incentive to exertion. I am commencing well to-night with a small stub of a pencil, sitting in McDonald's tent. But remember do, dear mother, when at times I prove neglectful, that all is necessarily well; that “no news is good news.”

I hardly can give you any hint of the intentions of the Army. We do not see the papers often enough to study the general movement of our troops, and cannot even make conjectures. We all hope though that we are engaged on some earnest and important undertaking. We feel that it is vital to act, and wish to act successfully. Burnside and McClellan are near us, and we have faith in them. I judge from some remark I read in the papers, that Connecticut has given her vote to the Democracy in the late elections. A test-vote was taken on election day in our Regiment to try the relative strengths of Seymour and Wadsworth. 168 votes were polled, of which Wadsworth received only 52. This was not so much because Seymour or his principles were popular, as for the reason that Wadsworth, long before his nomination for Governor of New-York, was generally known to the army as rather the leader of the clique so obnoxious to the soldier, which was loud and virulent in its abuse of McClellan. The feeling was rather McClellan versus Fremont, than Seymour versus Wadsworth.

While I think of it, I will deny the story that Rockwell did not command his battery in the James Island battle. He did so, and I do not think Porter meant to deny it. Porter probably said that he (Porter) commanded Rockwell's Battery the most of the time they were on James Island, without specifying anything regarding the fight. You know Rockwell was sick a good deal of the time, and Porter, as next in rank, did command in many of the almost daily skirmishes. Porter did first-rate service, and is too good a man I think, to injure his own reputation by decrying another. On the day of the battle Rockwell was well enough to command in person, and to the entire satisfaction of General Stevens.

I had a letter from Horace yesterday, and should judge he was blue. The poor fellow has had discouragements enough. He writes that if the draft falls upon him, he shall enter the ranks and come out to the war. This is wrong. He should secure a Commission, or stay at home. With my present experience, I would not have leaped blindly as I did at the commencement of the war. I have had a hard struggle with pride and duty to make me persist, but a little of the caution displayed by most of my friends, would have saved me many difficulties. If my friends have generally been more successful than I, I can at least feel consoled by the thought that what I have gained has been won by my own exertion. There, that is pretty egotism! Little boy blue, come blow your horn!

I wish I had seen Charley Johnson when in my neighborhood. I suppose I was off to Frederick. Charley must have been journeying to the moon, I guess, when he so narrowly escaped Stuart's Cavalry.

Believe me,
Affec'y.,
Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 224-6

Saturday, January 6, 2018

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Horace Barnard, September 28, 1862

79th Regiment,
Near Antietam Creek,
Sept. 28th, 1862.
My dear Horace:

Here we are, still resting at the mouth of this muddy little stream now famous and historical. Ten days have gone since the battle and yet there are no signs of bustle and busy preparation aiming at the destruction of our dirty foes on the other side of the river. I say, “Forward!” To think of hesitating before such a pitiful crew as those we have so lately beaten! You perceive our recent successes are making us forget Manassas. But McClellan is cautious, and, without intending any disparagement, does not possess that lightning rapidity which characterized the “old Napoleon.” Yet we of the Army are jealous of McClellan's reputation and fear the possibility of losing him. Not indeed because we believe him equal to the command of 600,000 men — we believe him simply the best general we have got, and do not trust the judgment of old Abe in the selection of a new one. Pope, Sigel, Fremont, and the whole batch of our political Generals are objects of honest terror to every soldier in the Union Army. Stevens was a better man than McClellan. His judgment was unerring, his foresight marvellous, his prophecies sure of fulfilment. He had a power to electrify troops, and lift them at the critical moment to a degree of enthusiasm that was inspiration. He could be cautious and crafty, as well as daring. He felt himself born to hold the reins of authority, and grasped them so that the steady hand was felt by the commonest soldier of his command. Soldiers all loved him, and recognized his strength as it were by instinct. He knew how to deal a hard blow, and deal it with rapidity. He never underestimated a difficulty, but his estimates were forestallments of history. What he possessed in an eminent degree was Power — and Power composed of rude strength and natural vigor. What he lacked was comeliness. This, culture could not give him. He needed a grand sphere in which to move. Then he would have been grand. Confined, one could detect what was gnarled and ungainly. The oak is the monarch in the midst of the forest, not in the garden. Among flowers, neat trimmed box shows to the best advantage. There was something about Stevens that offended little souls, and there were many little souls who hated him. He had such a galling way of expressing his detestation at what deserves contempt, that many felt themselves offended thereby. He had many enemies and many friends, but those who knew him best mourn his loss most deeply. The neglect and injustice shown him in his life time broke his heart. He is dead now and at peace.

To-day I received nine letters, the first I have seen in many a day. Some of them are very old, but they afforded a rare treat for all that. In one of them my mother writes she had received a letter from you, in which you wrote that I had glory enough at twenty-four to last me for a life time. Ah, my dear Horace, there was rare irony in that! I acknowledge it. I have had “glory” enough to last me for a life time. I am satisfied with what I've had of the article and am willing in future to dispense with any further accessions. See what a valuable thing it is! A few days ago I enjoyed high favor, I went into fresh battles, and the records show fresh praises from my Commanding Officers. Christ, who commanded a Brigade of five Regiments in the recent battles writes in his report: “While the officers of my command in general conducted themselves well, my special thanks are due to Capt. Lusk for the valuable services he rendered me.” Now for the rewards of service. I have to-day the command of 14 men, six of them old soldiers that grumble, and eight raw recruits who are learning the mysteries of the goose-step. Sic itur ad astra. There's glory for you. I acknowledge I have had enough to satisfy me for the rest of my life. I have not been persecuted in any way. The whole thing is the result of natural causes which could not be avoided. Fortune simply played me a sorry trick. Friends say, “Resign.” But I am not willing to be petulant. If disgusted with “glory,” I believe in a better word, and that is — duty. So I have turned to, tried to stop the grumbling of the old soldiers, and get the recruits to do the goose-step creditably. I want the fighting to go on though. I can't stand it, lying still. I want to fight the thing through, and get out of a mortifying position. After sixteen months of service I trudge around with a corporal's guard, while old friends who have been waiting favorable opportunities at home until now, prancing by me in new regimentals at the heads of Regiments, nod to me familiarly perhaps, or probably pass me unnoticed. There are no vacancies at present in the Field of the 79th Regiment, and yet any day there may be. I am the next eligible candidate at present in the Regiment for promotion, and might get the next vacancy if friends at home were only alive to the necessity of vouching for me in some way, to those who have the power to dispense Commissions. Here I see miners, tailors, carpenters and all sorts of petty tradesmen, who find no difficulty in getting friends to mention their names, and because successful, boast much of their political influence, and yet I, a gentleman with plenty of friends, cannot boast of enough to secure me my just dues in the regular order of seniority. I do not want to be querulous. I do want Uncle Phelps though, if he knows Gov. Morgan, to remind him occasionally that he has a nephew whom Gov. Morgan might remember, &c. Well, my dear Horace, I will say no more. Verhum sat sapienti. I hope one of these days to get home with my duty done, and then I can laugh at my present comical situation. Do write me a long letter. I have heard nothing from you for some months, though this is my third letter. I suppose either yours or mine have been lost. Love to Cousin Lou, Hattie, your mother and the good people on the Hill.

Affec'y. but sadly,
Will.
79th Regt. 1st Brig. 1st Div. gth Army Corps, Washington.
(To be forwarded)

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 214-7

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 28, 1862

Mouth Of Antietam Creek,
79th Regiment,
Sept. 28th, 1862.
My dear Mother:

I have been sitting smoking my pipe by moonlight, pleasantly chatting with my old friend Dr. McDonald, till remembering my anxious mother, I have returned to say cheering words to that most estimable and precious lady. At last your kind pains have been rewarded. A mail-bag has arrived from Washington, and made me the happy possessor of nine letters. What a treasure! Eight from you, and one full of kindness from dear Lilly who promises moreover to write me more, though I should prove a negligent correspondent myself. Tell her to do so by all means. Such proofs of love are very delightful. I wrote you last, that I was entertaining some idea of joining McDonald as his Asst. Surgeon. We had the thing all nicely arranged — had consulted and received the approval of the Medical Director, when a young man presents himself duly commissioned for the position by the Governor of New-York. My lucky star is not in the ascendant.

Another change has taken place in my affairs. A new brigade has been formed, and the 79th Highlanders transferred to it. I was obliged to follow with my Regiment, and consequently resigned the position of A. A. A. G. to the old Brigade. The same position was offered me in the New Brigade, but, not liking the Brigadier, I declined the honor. So now I am back again, a simple Captain in the 79th, sole commander in chief of a company numbering some 20 effective men. So much for “Glory.” It may perhaps console you that Col. Christ, who had charge of five Regiments in the late battles, writes in his reports: “While I have reason to commend in general the conduct of the officers of my command, my special thanks are due to Capt. Lusk for the valuable services he rendered me.” I quote it (as nearly as I can remember) because in the mass of reports which are sent in, few, if any, will ever come to light again.

I am glad you proposed to visit Maj. Elliott in New London. He is a warm and true friend of mine. I wrote Horace to-day quite a long letter. Hunt's letter, recommending me to accept the position of Aide on General Tyler's staff came too late. I could not apply for it, as a Brigadier is not entitled to an Aide beyond the rank of Lieut., unless the officer receives his commission direct from the President. With Stevens I was simply detached for Staff duties. This could be done inside, but not outside, of the Brigade I may be attached to. I could therefore accept by Army Regulations nothing less than the position of Asst. Adjt.-General. Otherwise I would have fancied the thing right well, as, having consigned all ambitious project to him who is said to be the Father of them, I would like very much to see something of campaigning in the West, and the Western country. We are now resting, recruiting, and getting ready for new deeds. I trust we have inaugurated victory now, and mean to hear nothing more of Manassas.

Great must Uncle John's faith be, if he still believes in Pope. I am sure there was not a man in his army, who had any confidence in his capacity, even previous to his final disasters. We all considered him a very noisy, pretentious liar.

It is now so late that I must say Good-Bye.

Affec'y.,
Will.
79th Regiment, 1st Brigade, 1st Div.
9th Army Corps.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 211-3

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

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

Norwich, Sept 16th, 1862.
My own dear Son:

I have very little reason to believe in the probability of your receiving my many letters, yet I continue to write with the bare possibility that they may some of them reach you. Last night came the news of a glorious victory for us, but alas! also came the sad and sickening news that another of our good and able Generals was killed. In the general rejoicing my heart is heavy, for my dear son was in Reno's command when I last heard, and I am looking with fear and dread for the terrible list to come from that battlefield. How my God is trying me, and how merciful he has been to preserve my precious son through so many appalling dangers! My heart was so full of sympathy for Mrs. Stevens. I wrote her a letter a few days ago. I saw that her husband was buried at Newport, and an extract from an address delivered on the occasion impressed me wonderfully. We are all occupied by the same train of thought, deepened in intensity of course with some of us, by the danger our loved ones are in. I received a very kind letter from Horace a few days since, wherein he dwells upon the birth of your reputation; he says at twenty-four you have won honors enough to suffice for a life time. You are not forgotten my own son, my heroic boy. Many hearts are watching, eager for every word from you. The extract from your letter in the N. Y. Post has attracted the attention of many who know you personally, or have heard of you. They say the account is interesting, and written too, by one who observes. . . .

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 197-8

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, September 12, 1862

Norwich, Conn.
September 12th, 1862.
My own dear Son:

You see I am following out my resolution to write you every day, although I have many doubts about your receiving one half the letters I write. There is a great dearth of news. Pope's report with its censures is exciting remark, and I trust the country will demand a full investigation as soon as the public necessity will permit. Jeff Davis' Proclamation is highly entertaining in view of past acts; however, that we care little about, his words are nothing. I wish I knew where you are, and where the last turn in the wheel has placed you. I suppose Gen. Stevens' part in the last battles, together with that of his Division, can never be known. It is specially hard, because his gallantry and the splendid fighting done by his troops, were in the first accounts acknowledged.

The death of young Matteson I feel sorely on your account. It seems as though the storm had swept over you; your General killed, friends wounded or ill. I stop and think: "What am I that God should so preserve the precious life of my son? Should guard his health, should guide his steps? May I be grateful as I ought, may I be more trustful."

We have so hoped we might see you, that Hunt and Mary have had a room furnished in the wing, hoping you would be the first to occupy it.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 195-6

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, September 13, 1862

13th. I wrote Horace a day or two since, giving an account of Gen. Stevens' death from your letter, saying if it possessed any interest for the public he might give it to Godwin of the Post, and this morning I saw it published there.1 I am glad, because so little has been said of this brave man by any of the New-York papers except the Tribune. I have written Mrs. Stevens a letter of sympathy for her loss. I wanted her to know, and to feel, that the Nation weeps for her illustrious dead. I wrote her I took the liberty of offering her my sympathy, because personally I felt her husband's loss most deeply for his kindness to my son.

Mr. Benedict is below in the library with Hunt. His brother, who was taken prisoner some time ago, but recently released, has been appointed Colonel of one of the new N. Y. regiments. Our Governor I hear excuses his want of consideration for you, by saying it would have been different if you had belonged to a Conn. Regiment, so I suppose you are considered as belonging to New-York. Good-bye, my own dear son. God bless you always. I thank him for your perservation. Love from all to you, and kind words to Major Elliott.

Lovingly,
Mother.
_______________

1 N. Y. Evening Post of Sept. 12th, 1862.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 196-7

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Horace Barnard, September 10, 1862

Norwich, Sept. 10th, 1862.
Dear Horace:

I received your letter on Sunday morning. I am satisfied that you will manage the business intrusted to you as well as may be during these horrible times, and hope for a better future. I am sad, sick, despairing. Fifteen months ago I gave my son, my only one, to serve his country as he best might. How faithful he has been his General has testified. He has fought in five large battles and in ten or twelve small ones, not a day's respite, always at the wheel, full of hope, full of energy, sacrificing home, University honors in Berlin, all that made life lovely, to serve his country in her hour of need. Look at the result. Gen. Stevens, his good friend, the best, the bravest, the truest patriot, the courageous soldier, the great man, is sacrificed, while blundering little men who can never fill his place are for political reasons reaping honors. My son is still performing the duties of an Assistant Adjutant-General, trying, as he says, to keep the concern in motion, but with gloomy prospects when the command passes into new hands. His regiment, the 79th, is reduced from its proud array of 1000 men to a regiment of cripples — only 230 men are left, wholly, I fear hopelessly, demoralized. Oh, my God, has he not one friend who can lift a hand to help? Are his services of no value? Loyal as I have ever been, loyal as I am still, now that his kind appreciative General is gone, I would, if I could, withdraw him from the army, where the faithful servant is unnoticed, and the scheming politician receives the honors.

I have received two letters since the battles on the Rappahannock, in all of which he was engaged, through which, my God, “The God of the widow,” preserved him alive. He was “Acting A. A. General,” full of love and admiration for his General, and honored in return by his loving confidence. I now quote from his letter regarding his last battle: “Whenever anything desperate was to be performed, Kearny and Stevens were always selected, with this difference though, that Stevens was rarely credited with what he did, while Kearny's praises were very 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 he 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 that 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 Gen. 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 20 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, 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.”

If these incidents would interest the public, and Mr. Godwin is inclined to publish them I have no objection; you may do as you like. I wish the country knew all that occurred on those battlefields. The truth is beginning to dawn. I have written a long letter. Will is still at the Headquarters of the 1st Division, Reno's Command. He shudders at the thought of returning to his Regiment. The General and all the best friends of the 79th felt that it had suffered so much from constant active service, was so terribly decimated, and so demoralized from the loss of officers, it should be recalled from the service. If my son has friends who can help, beg them to think of him now — his General killed, his intimate friends wounded, Major Matteson, his tried friend, dead of typhoid fever — his cup is more than full, and my heart is ready to burst with its grief for him.

Well, good-bye; give much love to all who care for us, and believe me,

Truly yours,
E. F. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 193-5

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, September 9, 1862

Norwich, Conn.
September 9th, 1862.
My own dear Son:

I am half sick, very sad, grieved, and troubled on your account, yet very thankful for the wonderful preservation of your life through so many dangers. I cannot but feel that a life so cared for, has been saved for the accomplishment of good and wise purposes, which will be wrought out in God's own time. Take courage, and strengthen your heart, my own precious son, in the remembrance of what He has done for you, through the whole course of your life, and especially for his goodness amid the dangers of the past year. Well may we all lament the loss of your General. I feel, and mourn as for a personal friend, and the nation too late acknowledges the want of appreciation of one of its greatest men and ablest military commanders. Gen. Kearny's staff, I noticed, returned with his body, and so we have hoped that, sad as the journey might be, you would be permitted to accompany your General's remains to their last home.

I have just received two letters from you, one of the 4th, the other of the 6th. May God be with you, my dear son, to comfort and guide. A dark cloud seems to have gathered around you; may it soon pass and the brightness shine again. The Herald and Times have contained little regarding Gen. Stevens, but the Tribune correspondent sounds his praises, and dwells upon his memory. There was a statement in yesterday's Tribune, that while he was engaged in his last battle, prominent men, though political opponents, had decided to request that he might command the Army of Virginia, his splendid fighting on Friday and Saturday, having at last awakened the remembrance of his superior abilities, and his distinction at West Point, as well as in Mexico, and whereever he had opportunities to show himself. The Express says he was sacrificed to political opinion.

Do write as often as possible, my son. My nerves are greatly shaken, although my health is far better in most respects than it used to be, yet I feel sensibly this strain upon my spirits. I cannot write as long a letter as I wish to-day, but I intend in future to write a little every day, to always have something ready for you.

The Lt.-Col. of the Eighteenth is not all that could be desired, and Ely I am told regrets that you are not with him. Political interests are paramount everywhere. Alfred Goddard called on us last night. He said he had followed your course, and everywhere heard your noble conduct spoken of. I will write again to-morrow. I am very sorry you have lost your back letters which have gone from my pen, as well as one from Lillie. All are well at home. Poor Matteson, how you must lament for him! Major Elliott I see is wounded.

God bless you my own dear son. In Him is our only trust. Would that we could meet if only for one short hour.

Your sisters send love and warmest sympathy. We all feel for you, and I pray earnestly to God for His help and blessings.

Lovingly and anxiously,
Mother.

Hunt's suggestions are dictated by his kind heart, but I think you deserve and must receive a higher appointment than that of Aide.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 191-2

Sunday, October 8, 2017

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

Saturday, October 7, 2017

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

Friday, September 22, 2017

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

Headquarters Stevens's Div.
9th Army Corps,
Fredericksburg, Aug. 19th, 1862.
My dearest Mother:

Here we are, occupying a fine house in the pleasant town of Fredericksburg, with the thermometer standing ever so high in the shade among a people whose glances are at zero in the hottest of this summer sunshine. I have seen nothing like this before, except in the single City of Venice where the feeling is so intense toward the German soldiery. Yet it is not strange when one thinks that there are few left beside women. The men are away fighting in the pride of sons of the Old Dominion, and many a family here is clad in sombre colors, for the loss of dear friends who have lost their lives at the hands of “Yankee Invaders.” So a military occupation of a disaffected town is less pleasant than the tented field. We will not remain a great while though. We are now on the eve of great events. God only knows what the morrow has in store for us. I cannot say where I may be when I next write, but continue to direct to Stevens' Division, 9th Army Corps, and the letters will reach me. I am sick at heart in some respects, and utterly weary of the miserable cant and whining of our Northern press. It is time that we assumed a manlier tone. We have heard enough of rebel atrocities, masked batteries, guerillas, and other lying humbugs. Pope's orders are the last unabatable nuisance. Are we alone virtuous, and the enemy demons? Let us look at these highly praised orders of Pope which are to strike a death-blow at rebellion. We are henceforth to live on the enemy's country, and to this as a stern military necessity, I say “Amen!” But mother, do you know what the much applauded practice means? It means to take the little ewe-lamb — the only property of the laborer — it means to force from the widow the cow which is her only source of sustenance. It means that the poor, and the weak, and the helpless are at the mercy of the strong — and God help them! This I say is bad enough, but when papers like the ——, with devilish pertinacity, talk of ill-judged lenity to rebels and call for vigorous measures, it makes every feeling revolt. We want vigorous measures badly enough to save us in these evil times, but not the measures the urges. The last thing needed in our army is the relaxing of the bands of discipline. And yet our Press is urging our soldiers everywhere to help themselves to rebel property, and instead of making our army a glorious means of maintaining liberty, would dissolve it into a wretched band of marauders, murderers, and thieves. If property is to be taken, let the Government take it. That is well — but I would have the man shot who would without authority steal so much as a fence rail, though it were to make the fire to cook his food. I would have no Blenkers and Sigels with their thieving hordes, but a great invincible army like Cromwell's, trusting in God and marching on to victory.

Well, Mother, it is late. I am thankful we are under a commander who is a noble, high-minded, chivalrous man. Honor to Burnside! He is as generous as he is brave! Honor to my own dear commander too, who has a heart to pity as well as the nerve to strike.

Kisses and love in liberal doses, prescribed in liberal doses to his absent loving friends,

By your most Affec.
Dr. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 176-8