Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, October 9, 1863

Fairfax, Oct. 9, 1863.

I saw that paragraph in the “Herald,” — it is not true. I had orders from Heintzelman to clear out the whole country inside of Manassas Junction more than a month ago. I began it, and the parties arrested were sent back from Washington almost as fast as I sent them there. I also had orders to burn the houses of all persons actively assisting Mosby or White. I have burnt two mills and one dwelling-house, the latter belonging to a man who can be proved to have shot a soldier in cold blood the day after the battle of Bull Run, and to have afterwards shot a negro who informed against him. This man was taken at his house at midnight in rebel uniform, with two other soldiers; he claimed to belong to a Virginia Cavalry regiment and to be at the time absent on furlough, and denied being one of Mosby's men; he had no furlough to show, however, and we knew that he had been plundering sutlers and citizens for more than a month. I therefore ordered his house to be burned; it was done in the forenoon and our men assisted in getting out his furniture. I wrote Mosby saying that it was not my intention to burn the houses of any men for simply belonging to his command ; that houses would be burnt which were used as rendezvous; that that particular house was burnt because it harboured a man who was apparently a deserter and was known to be a horse-thief and highwayman, a man obnoxious equally to both of us (officers acting under orders) and to all citizens. I shall probably have to burn other houses, but it will be done with all possible consideration. You must not feel badly, not more badly than is inevitable,  — I hope you will always write about such things: it will make me more considerate, and in such cases one cannot be too considerate.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 311-3

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, October 8, 1863

Fairfax, Oct. 8, 1863.

I believe with Lord Bacon, who was a very wise old fellow, that whatever be your income, it is only just to yourself, your wife, and your fellow-men, to lay aside a large fraction for wet days, and a large fraction for charity: I have never acted up to my theory, but I mean to begin now, — I don't mean to worry about money, and I don't mean to have you worry; ergo, you must expect to see me keep an account-book, and occasionally pull it out and warn you how much water we are drawing, and how much there is under our keel. Mother ends by saying that she has put a thousand dollars in the bank to be something to fall back upon during the first year, but I think we ought to get along without needing that, — my pay is $2400 a year, not including horses, one servant, and fuel and quarters “commuted” when on duty in a city, — of course these latter are supplied in the field. I know what officers of my regiment have done easily on a captain's pay, and I know what I used to do when I kept house in Burlington,— and I know we can live suitably and worthily on that, and be very happy and see friends as we want to see them, only we must start right.

Did I tell you, by the way, that Stoneman's Court of Inquiry recommended me to be more careful for the future, mentioning two points where I seemed careless? I was not careless, as Will or any of my officers will tell you, — I was not at all to blame. I was particularly careful on one of the points where I am blamed, — but I am perfectly willing to shoulder the blame, — prefer to, in fact, — for I think a commanding officer is to blame for everything that goes wrong under him.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 310-1

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, September 15, 1863

Willard's [washington], Sept. 15, 1863.

I have had a very pleasant hour with Governor Andrew. He talked about Rob and how very fond he had become of him. He said that, at the Williamstown Commencement Dinner, he mentioned him in his speech, and there was not a dry eye in the room. He said too that he meant to live long enough to help finish a monument at Charleston which should be connected in the Nation's heart with Colonel Shaw, as Bunker Hill is with Warren. His tender, affectionate way of saying "Colonel Shaw" touched me very much, — it made me feel like crying too. I wish we had a large-hearted man like Andrew for President. Andrew had been to see Mr. Lincoln to-day about the coloured regiment prisoners, and thinks the right thing will yet be done. I talked with Stanton about them, and find he feels exactly as we do; that we must stop all exchanging till all prisoners are placed on the same footing.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 304-5

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, September 10, 1863

Centreville, Sept. 10, 1863.

I to-day had to call attention in a general order to the prevalence of profanity in the command, and at the same time to add that perhaps I had not set them a good example in this respect. I don't swear very much or very deep, — but I do swear, more often at officers than men, and there is a great deal of swearing in the regiment which I wish to check: of course, I shall stop it in myself entirely; I shall enforce the Articles of War if necessary. . . .

I think we must make up our minds to a long war yet, and possibly to a war with some European power. For years to come, I think all our lives will have to be more or less soldierly, — i. e. simple and unsettled; simple because unsettled.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 301

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, September 2, 1863

Centreville, Sept. 2d.

Did I tell you that I saw my classmate, William J. Potter, in Washington? Potter was settled as clergyman in New Bedford, was drafted, preached an excellent sermon on the “draft,” saying he should go if accepted, and that meanwhile (previous to the examination) he should use every means to improve his muscle and should feel much humiliation if rejected as unfit to fight for his country.¹ Some one sent the sermon to Stanton; Stanton wrote asking him to come at once to Washington. Potter declined, saying “if accepted he should be under orders, but he preferred to take his chance with others.” He was accepted, and just afterward received another letter from Stanton asking him as a particular favour to come on and confer with him; so Potter was in Washington as an enlisted man on furlough, in a full suit of black. Stanton had had one “conference” with him, and finding that he did not think himself very fit for a chaplaincy with a regiment, had told him he wanted to keep him in Washington, that he wanted such men there, and had proposed to make him chaplain to a hospital, pro forma, with outside duties, — Potter was to see him again in the evening and to breakfast with him the next morning. Such little things as that make me like Stanton, with all his ferocity of manner. He acts on impulses. and is often wrong, but oftener right; on large questions, he is almost always right, I believe. I think . Stanton must have the credit in the Cabinet of having carried through the “Negro Army,” in spite of great opposition there, and some doubts at the White House. It was very pleasant to see old Potter again, coming out all right.

_______________

¹ Mr. William [James] Potter, of Quaker ancestry and great virtues and gifts, was pastor of a large, intelligent, and rich society in New Bedford, Massachusetts, and highly esteemed. On July 3, 1863, he was drafted for a soldier, under the new Conscription Act. On the following Sunday he preached to his people a manly sermon, “The Voice of the Draft,” from the text “Make full proof of thy ministry” (2 Tim. iv, 5), strongly stating the duty and privilege, even for scholars and men with no natural military tastes, to serve in such a war, in such an emergency of the country. Secretary Stanton read it, and had it at once published in the Army and Navy Gazette, as the word for the hour. He set Mr. Potter the important task of visiting and inspecting all the U. S. hospitals in or near Washington, which he did well and thoroughly, reporting their needs. Then, as chaplain to the convalescent hospital, he lived there in a little hut with his young wife, but resigned to join in the vast and beneficent work of the Sanitary Commission. Afterwards he returned to his church in New Bedford. He was one of the founders and chief workers in the Free Religious Association.

When young Potter was in college, he began to feel strongly drawn to the ministry, yet sorely doubting his fitness. “What society or sect must I go with, believing with none? I have in my mind, it is true, an ideal minister, different from any real one whom it was ever my lot to know.” His success was in the measure he approached this ideal.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 299-301, 442-3

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, August 31, 1863

Centreville, Aug. 31, 1863.

I told you last week that Stanton had ordered a Court of Inquiry about some horses taken from us by Mosby, — his order said “horses taken from Thirteenth New York Cavalry.” I wrote at once that the horses were lost by Second Massachusetts Cavalry, my regiment, and that I wished to take the blame, if there was any, until the court settled where it belonged. He made General Stoneman President of the Court, and that vexed me, for all such courts hurt a fellow's chances, and Stoneman had intimated that he was likely to give me command of one of his three Cavalry Depots, which would have been very pleasant winter-quarters. Now, whatever the court may find, I do not consider myself at all to blame, and really I shall not care for the finding, but I am ashamed to say that last week my pride was somewhat hurt and I felt a good deal annoyed, although Heintzelman had told me he was more than satisfied, was gratified at what had been done. In our arrangements for catching Mosby, as he took off the horses, Captain ——, one of my best fellows, had the most important post; — he went insane in the afternoon, and Mosby's gang got enough the start to escape us.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 298-9

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, August 20, 1863

Centreville, Aug. 20, 1863.

I came in about ten last evening, after four days' vain endeavour to get a fight out of White's Battalion, — four very pleasant days in one of the loveliest countries in the world, South and West of Leesburg.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 298

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, August 13, 1863

Centreville, Aug. 13, 1863.

One of my beliefs is that no two persons ought to believe exactly alike; that truth must be seen from different sides by different people, — or rather that different views of truth must, to persons of differing character and temperament, present themselves with different degrees of reality and importance, and that each person must cling to the one which is most real, most internal, most near to him.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 296

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, August 9, 1863

Centreville, Aug. 9, 1863.

After I reached camp at Fairfax Station, I was busy all the evening with parties after Mosby, who again made his appearance capturing wagons, — we retook them all, but didn't take Mosby, who is an old rat and has a great many holes; on Friday moved camp to Centreville, and am not half established yet; my tents are not here. Did I write you, that in our skirmish with Mosby ten days ago, we lost two more men killed and two wounded, also two prisoners, but we followed him so far that we recaptured these and eight others whom he had taken from a Pennsylvania regiment. I dislike to have men killed in such an “inglorious warfare” as Cousin John calls it, — but it's not a warfare of my choosing, and it's all in the day's work.¹

_______________

¹ As, for the following twelve months, the energies of Lowell and the officers and soldiers of his brigade were kept on the strain by day, and more often by night, by the dangerous activity of the guerrilla chief Mosby and his band, it seems well to give some account of them here. By a strict construction of the laws of war, the practices of this and similar bands then operating within our lines would probably have outlawed them. The Administration, however, did not take this stand, probably from the fear of provoking endless retaliation.

John Singleton Mosby, born in Virginia, a lawyer by profession, was a man of intelligence, daring, and great energy, which gifts he devoted to the service of the Southern cause, but in an irregular channel. His first military service was as a private in the First Virginia Cavalry, where he attracted the attention of Colonel, afterwards General J. E. B. Stuart. Seeing the advantage which the operations of a mounted guerrilla force would have, operating within the lines of the armies of the United States in the neighbourhood of the national capital, their main source of reenforcement and supplies; also the romantic and material attraction that such service would offer to young men, in contrast to army discipline and hardship for precarious pay, Mosby drafted a bill authorizing such a force, which was passed by the Confederate Congress in March, 1863.

I quote, with the publisher's permission, from Mosby's War Reminiscences, the following passages as to this bill and the principles (if one may so call them) on which he recruited his command and waged war: —

“The Partisan Ranger Law was an act of the Confederate Congress, authorizing the President to issue commissions to officers to organize partisan corps. They stood on the same footing with other cavalry organizations in respect to rank and pay, but, in addition, were given the benefit of the law of maritime prize. There was really no novelty in applying this principle to land forces. England has always done so in Her Majesty's East India service. . . . Havelock, Campbell, and Outram returned home from the East loaded with barbaric spoils. As there is a good deal of human nature in people, and as Major Dalgetty is still a type of a class, it will be seen how the peculiar privileges given to my men served to whet their zeal. I have often heard them disputing over the division of the horses before they were captured, etc.”

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

“To destroy supply-trains, to break up the means of conveying intelligence, and thus isolating the army from its base, as well as its different corps from each other, to confuse their plans by capturing despatches, are the objects of partisan war. . . . The military value of a partisan's work is not reckoned by the amount of property destroyed, but by the number he keeps watching.  . . . I endeavoured, as far as possible, to diminish the aggressive power of the Army of the Potomac, by compelling it to keep a large force on the defensive. . . .

“My men had no camps. If they had gone into camp, they would soon have all been captured. They would scatter for safety, and gather at my call like the Children of the Mist. . . .

“I often sent small squads at night to attack and ran in the pickets along a line of several miles. Of course these alarms were very annoying, for no human being knows how sweet sleep is but a soldier. I wanted to use and consume the Northern Cavalry in hard work. It has always been a wonder with people how I managed to collect my men after dispersing them. The true secret was, that it was a fascinating life, and its attractions far more than counterbalanced its hardships and dangers. They had no camp duty to do, which, however necessary, is disgusting to soldiers of high spirit.”²

General J. E. B. Stuart, the brilliant cavalry leader, a friend and admirer of Mosby, shows, in a letter to him on his appointment to the new command, that he thought it well not to be quite frank as to this new kind of soldier. “Already a Captain,” he writes, “you will proceed to organize a band of permanent followers for the war, but by all means ignore the term ‘Partisan Rangers.’ It is in bad repute. Call your command ‘Mosby's Regulars,’ and it will soon give it a tone of meaning and solid worth which all the world will soon recognize, and you will inscribe that name of a fearless band of heroes on the pages of our country's history and inshrine it in the hearts of a grateful people. Let ‘Mosby's Regulars’ be a name of pride with friends and of respectful trepidation with enemies.” (Rebellion Record.)

Colonel Mosby has the virtue of frankness. He says in his book: “In one respect the charge that I did not fight fair is true. I fought for success, and not for display. There was no man in the Confederate Army who had less of the Spirit of Knighthood in him or who took a more practical view of war than I did. . . . There is no authenticated act of mine which is not perfectly in accordance with approved military usage.”

I am also allowed to quote the following extracts from Major John Scott's Partisan Life with Mosby, partly for the information they give concerning the method of warfare, and partly for their interesting rhetoric and ethics.

“The principle which distinguishes the Partisan Ranger service is the distribution, among the officers and men, of the spoil captured from the enemy, and, though Mosby refuses to avail himself of it, for his own enrichment, he yet values it as a powerful magnet to attract and bind adventurous spirits to his standard. The dreaming statesman may indulge the reverie that, in republics, the patriotic principle is sufficient to impel men to the discharge of military duty, but the practical and clear-sighted genius of Mosby knows that mankind are governed by the grosser motive of immediate self-interest and, impressed by this belief, he made the strenuous effort of which I have told you to construct his command on this basis.”

For the honour of American manhood one wishes here to enter a protest, and call to mind the sufferings and sacrifices of brave Confederate soldiers of the line, by tens of thousands, for their cause.

Major Scott goes on: —

“This system of warfare, defensive in its object, yet aggressive in its principle, has baffled all these attempts [of Federal officers to suppress him], because, as soon as the blow is inflicted, the assailants are at once scattered before time is afforded to strike them in return. The angry cloud gathers, the thunders roll through the sky, the fatal flash is emitted, and the discharged vapours roll into the air.

“Mosby, in an open country, finds security in dispersion among a friendly and chivalrous people. With them the members of the battalion live as boarders and friends; the farmers, for a moderate compensation, and sometimes without compensation at all, providing food and shelter for the soldier and his horse. This familiar association between the soldiers and the citizens has developed a very pleasant and romantic state of society, and its elevating effects on the former are very marked. . . . From their boarding-houses, the men called at various places of rendezvous, which are always selected with reference to the vicinity of a blacksmith's shop. From these places issue, daily, detachments varying in strength.  . . . In addition to his [Mosby's] proper command, there is another element composed of loose and unemployed material, which Mosby is now able to combine and hurl against the invaders of his country. His custom is to advertise about a week in advance a meeting to be held at one of the rendezvous, and to it repair those who love adventure and plunder. But the most abundant and useful source from which these temporary recruits are derived, is from the members of the regular cavalry at home on detail or furlough. . . . Convalescents from the hospitals also will sometimes join him for a single raid; but when the Yankees come in pursuit, . . . they will find them languidly stretched upon their pallets.  . . . You ask if it is by love he controls his men? No, he is not weak enough to be cheated by that fallacy.  . . . Fear and Confidence are the genii he invokes, and, united to a conviction of his incorruptible integrity, they have enabled him to enchain his followers to his standard.”³

Mosby's sphere of operations included these four counties of Virginia, — Fairfax, Loudoun, Fauquier, and Prince William; a region south of the Potomac and east of the Blue Ridge, as large as Worcester County in Massachusetts, lying between Washington and the Army of the Potomac, hence constantly travelled by supply-trains. It was overwhelmingly Confederate in its sympathies. Colonel Lowell, with his small brigade, had the principal responsibility of defending this, picking up such information as he could from the few brave Union farmers, and helped by a few daring local scouts.

² Mosby's War Reminiscences. Boston: George A.Jones &Co., 1887.

³ Partisan Life with Mosby, by Major John Scott. New York : Harper and Brothers, 1867.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 294, 434-9

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, August 4, 1863 – P. M.

Willard's, Aug. 4, 1863, P. M.

For two days I have been seeing a good deal of the officers of ——. On the whole, I am well satisfied with them, though I must say I should like a little bit more enthusiasm. I am not much of an enthusiast, you know, but I have done what I could to discourage sneering, and to encourage a ready recognition of good intention. I am getting to hate that narrow spirit which sees nothing good outside its own beaten routine and which requires a man to be well up in a certain kind of “shop” talk before he is fit to associate with. I shall have to take it out of some of my First Battalion officers, I'm afraid. I have not seen the letters in the California papers and do not think I care to. Reed is a very good officer, takes the greatest pride in his company, and, since that trouble, has done well by them; his fellows have been under fire since those letters were written, and I feel sure that now the feeling is changed. I think the men in all the battalions are beginning to feel that their officers know more than the officers of any regiments they are thrown with; and this feeling, of course, has a healthy effect on their morale. You must never allow anything you see in the papers to disturb you, — I have seen enough to convince me that all reports which go through Washington are systematically falsified. Of course this does not apply to letters like those you have, but remember that one man who has been roughed and feels aggrieved can easily profess to express the feeling of a company.

Do you suppose I object to your telling me not to be rash? — I think not; but you don't want me not to be rash, if I think it necessary.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 290-1

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, Sunday, August 3, 1863 – P. M.

Willard's, Aug. 3, P. M.

It is a satisfaction to think that the President's order is the result of your father's letter, — one immediate good out of Rob's death and out of the splendid conduct of this regiment. Negroes at Port Hudson had been treated just as barbarously, but it passed unnoticed by the Administration, — they could not pass this over: I wish the President had said a rebel soldier shall die for every negro soldier sold into slavery. He ought to have said so.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 289-90

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 28, 1863

Centreville, July 28.

I am very sorry that I did not more than half bid Rob good-bye that Tuesday. It is a little thing, but I wish it had been otherwise. It is pleasant to feel sure, without knowing any particulars, that his regiment has done well, — we all feel perfectly sure of it. I hope he knew it, too. I do wish I could be with you quietly, without disturbing any one: I thought I could write after getting letters, but I do not feel like it: it seems as if this time ought to belong wholly to Rob, — and you would like to tell me so much about him, — it would comfort you so much, for everything about him is pleasant to remember, as you say. Give my love to your mother; — it is a very great comfort to know that his life had such a perfect ending. I see now that the best Colonel of the best black regiment had to die, it was a sacrifice we owed, — and how could it have been paid more gloriously?

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 288-9

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 27, 1863

Centreville, July 27.

Will and I have been talking over the good fellows who have gone before in this war, — fellows whom Rob loved so much, many of them: there is none who has been so widely and so dearly loved as he. What comfort it is to think of this, — if “life is but a sum of love,” Rob had had his share, and had done his share.

When I think how Rob's usefulness had latterly been increasing, how the beauty of his character had been becoming a power, widely felt, how his life had become something more than a promise, I feel as if his father's loss were the heaviest: sometime perhaps we can make him feel that he has other sons, but now remember that in a man's grief for a son whose manhood had just opened, as Rob's had, there is something different from what any woman's grief can be.

That is the time to die when one is happiest, or rather I mean that is the time when we wish those we love to die: Rob was very happy too at the head of his regiment where he died: it is pleasant to remember that he never regretted the old Second for a moment.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 286-7

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, Sunday July 26, 1863

Centreville, Sunday, July 26.

Cousin John has just sent me the report about dear Rob. It does not seem to me possible this should be true about Rob. Was not he preeminently what “Every man in arms should wish to be?”¹

The manliness and patriotism and high courage of such a soldier never die with him; they live in his comrades, — it should be the same with the gentleness and thoughtfulness which made him so loveable a son and brother and friend. As you once wrote, he never let the sun go down upon an unkind or thoughtless word.²

_______________

¹ From Wordsworth's “Character of the Happy Warrior,” a poem that Lowell in his youth had greatly cared for, and which was strangely descriptive of his later career.

² The story, in brief, of the gallant but unsuccessful assault upon Battery Wagner in Charleston harbour is this: The Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts Regiment (coloured), after some six weeks’ service in Georgia and South Carolina, where it won respect and praise, even from original scoffers, had, at Colonel Shaw's request, been transferred to General Strong's brigade. The colonel asked “that they might fight alongside of white soldiers, and show to somebody else than their officers what stuff they were made of.” Therefore, at six o'clock on the evening of Saturday, July 18, the regiment reported at General Strong's headquarters on Morris Island, after forty-eight hours of marching, or waiting, without shelter in rain and thunder, for boat transportation, or stewing in tropical heat, with little to eat or drink. They were worn and weary. General Strong told Colonel Shaw that he believed in his regiment, and wished to assign them, in an immediate assault on the enemy's strong works, the post where the most severe work was to be done and the highest honour won. “They were at once marched to within 600 yards of Fort Wagner and formed in line of battle, the Colonel heading the first, and the Major the second battalion.

“At this point, the regiment, together with the next supporting regiment, the Sixth Maine, the Ninth Connecticut, and others, remained half an hour. Then, at half-past seven, the order for the charge was given. The regiment advanced at quick time, changing to double-quick at some distance on. When about one hundred yards from the fort, the Rebel musketry opened with such terrible effect that for an instant the first battalion hesitated; but only for an instant, for Colonel Shaw, springing to the front and waving his sword, shouted, ‘Forward, Fifty-Fourth!’ and with another cheer and a shout they rushed through the ditch, and gained the parapet on the right. Colonel Shaw was one of the first to scale the walls. He stood erect to urge forward his men, and while shouting for them to press on was shot dead, and fell into the fort.”

The attempt to take the fort was a desperate one, and failed. The Fifty-Fourth did nobly, and suffered terribly. Little quarter was given. In that furious fight in the last twilight, lit only by gun-flashes, it is said that the firing from our own ships was, for a time, disastrous to the regiment.

Emerson, in his poem called "Voluntaries," commemorates the sacrifice of Robert Shaw and his men : —

So nigh is grandeur to our dust,

So near is God to man,

When Duty whispers low, Thou must,

The youth replies, I can.

       *   *   *   *   *   *   *

     Best befriended of the God

He who, in evil times,

Warned by an inward voice,

Heeds not the darkness and the dread,

Biding by his rule and choice,

Feeling only the fiery thread

Leading over heroic ground,

Walled with mortal terror round,

To the aim which him allures,

And the sweet Heaven his deed secures.

Peril around, all else appalling,

Cannon in front and leaden rain,

Him Duty through the clarion calling

To the van called not in vain.

     Stainless soldier on the walls,

Knowing this, — and knows no more, —

Whoever rights, whoever falls,

Justice conquers evermore,

Justice after as before, —

And he who battles on her side,

God, though he were ten times slain,

Crowns him victor glorified,

Victor over death and pain.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 285-6, 431-3

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 25, 1863

Centreville, July 25, 1863.

I don't at all fancy the duty here, — serving against bushwhackers; it brings me in contact with too many citizens, — and sometimes with mothers and children. The other night a fine looking young fellow stumbled against our pickets and was captured, — it proved that he had been out to visit his mother, — she came to bid him good-bye the next morning, a Quakerlike looking old lady, very neat and quiet. She didn't appeal to us at all; she shed a few tears over the son, repacked his bundle carefully, slipped a roll of greenbacks into his hand, and then kissed him farewell. I was very much touched by her. Yesterday we took a little fellow, only sixteen years old, — he had joined one of these gangs to avoid the conscription, which is very sweeping; he told us all he knew about the company to which he belonged, but he was such a babe that it seemed to me mean to question him. The conscription now takes all between eighteen and forty-five, and practically a good many both under and over: I had the satisfaction the other day of arresting the Lieut.-Colonel who had charge of the draft in this and the neighbouring counties, and hope I have stopped it for a time. You see I'm :opposed to the draft” as unconstitutional.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 283-4

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 24, 1863 - p.m.

Centreville, July 24, P. M.

"Each and All" is a true poem and in Emerson's best strain, — but don't misunderstand it; Emerson doesn't mean to bring in question the reality of beauty, or the substantial truth of our youth's hopes, but he has seen how unripe and childish is the desire to appropriate, and how futile the attempt must always be. He does not lament over this, perhaps he rather rejoices over it, — everything is ours to enjoy, nothing is ours to encage; open, we are as wide as Nature; closed, we are too narrow to enjoy a seashell's beauty.

I wonder whether you will ever like Wordsworth as much as I do, — I wonder whether I liked him as much when I was “only nineteen.” He is clumsy, prosy, and sometimes silly, but he is always self-respectful, serene, and (what I like, even in a poet) responsible, — more of a man than any other modern poet, if not so much of a “person” as some, — less exclusively human and therefore more manly. I don't believe you’ll ever like him as much as I do. Indeed in my heart I hope you will not; he is rather a cold customer, not an ardent Protestant, and yet far from Catholic; but then he lived pretty high up and a good deal alone.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 281-2

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 24, 1863

Centreville, July 24, 1863.

I must protest against your theory and Mr. Smalley's,¹ though I know the danger of opposing a newspaper: historically, I am sure it is not probable the war will end yet, by victories or otherwise; speculatively, I believe it is not desirable it should end yet; our opinions as to what the war was for are not distinct enough, our convictions of what it has done, are not settled enough — i. e. I do not see that we are ripe for peace, I do not read that nations are wont to ripen so quickly, — I do not feel in myself that either people is prepared to stop here and give up, — ergo, I look for a long war still. But I cannot assent to your Jewish doctrine that it is not desirable this chosen people should have peace yet, or victories yet, and therefore, it will not have them: that seems to me to be arrogating too much for ourselves. I agree with George² that when a nation, or a man, has to learn a thing, it is clutched by the throat and held down till it does learn it: but I object that not all nations, and not all men, do have to learn things. It is only the favoured nations and the favoured individuals that are selected for education, — most fall untaught. Why may not we? Why may not we fall by victory? May it not be the South that is being taught? May it not be some future nation, for whose profit our incapacity to learn is to be made conspicuous? No, I object entirely to your theory. Many nations fail, that one may become great; ours will fail, unless we gird up our loins and do honest and humble day's work, without trying to do the thing by the job or to get a great nation made by any patent process. It is not safe to say that we shall not have victories till we are ready for them; we shall have victories, and whether or no we are ready for them depends upon ourselves: if we are not ready, we shall fail, — voila tout. If you ask, What if we do fail? I have nothing to say; I'm an optimist (if the word can be used with that meaning) as well as yourself. I shouldn't cry over a nation or two, more or less, gone under. I find I haven't half stated my case, so if you answer, you must expect a great deal more cogent reply. Am I not an arrogant reasoner?

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¹ George Washington Smalley, a graduate of Yale, and lawyer by profession, was the war-correspondent of the New York Tribune. He was for a time on General Fremont's Staff. He was correspondent for the same journal in the Austro-Prussian war, and then in London established the European edition of the Tribune. Still later, he was connected with the London Times.

² George William Curtis, good citizen, patriot, writer, and orator, had married Miss Shaw's older sister.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 280-1, 429-30

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 23, 1863

Centreville, July 23, 1863.

People used to tell me, when I was at Cambridge, that those were to be the happiest years of my life. People were wrong. Dissatisfied as I have always been with myself, I have yet found that, as I grew older, I enjoyed more and more.

I picked a morning-glory (a white one) for you on the battlefield of Bull Run, the other day, but crushed it up and threw it away, on second thought, — the association was not pleasant; and yet it was pleasant to see that morning-glories could bloom on, right in the midst of our worries and disgraces. That reminds me that I haven't narrated where I went on Tuesday; we started very early and went over the whole Bull Run battleground down to Bull Run Mountains and Thoroughfare, thence to Warrenton, and back to near Manassas Junction, by the Orange and Alexandria R. R., — a killing march of between 52 and 54 miles on a scorching day and nothing learnt, except this, that there was nothing to learn. However, men and horses have stood it pretty well. At Manassas Junction I met General Gregg and his division of Cavalry. Gregg told me he had applied for my regiment some time ago; that he had a brigade of five regiments which he meant to give me, but the War Department didn't answer his application, — the Brigade was still waiting for me; — provoking, isn't it?¹  However, I long ago gave up bothering about such things; I see so many good officers kept back, because they are too good to be spared, and so many poor ones put forward merely as a means of getting rid of them, that I never worry. Don't think that a piece of vanity, I don't mean it so. I don't call any cavalry officer good who can't see the truth and tell the truth. With an infantry officer, this is not [so] essential, but cavalry are the eyes and ears of the army and ought to see and hear and tell truly; — and yet it is the universal opinion that P—'s own reputation, and P—'s late promotions are bolstered up by systematic lying.

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¹ General David McM. Gregg had known Lowell in the Peninsula, having been a captain with him in the Sixth U. S. Cavalry.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 278-9, 429

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 20, 1863

Centreville, July 20, 1863.

This has been a day of dozes, taken under an apple-tree on a breezy slope, — dozes interrupted by impertinent questions about horseshoes and forage and rations and what not. In the field though, these dozy days after hard marching are among the pleasantest. In my case, they have always associated themselves with delightful days at Interlaken and with images of the Jungfrau, because after several long tramps I returned to Interlaken and lay off there to rest, choosing always some horizontal position with a view of the mountain at will, — I think the exceeding restfulness of the Jungfrau must impress every one, but it must be seen in the dozy state, when repose is the only idea of bliss, to be fully enjoyed,— I mean mere physical repose; there is another higher repose about the Jungfrau which must be grateful to all who are weary or heavy-laden. . . .

I don't feel anxious, perhaps, but I feel very wrathful against these fellows. I do hope that this will lead General McClellan to shake off Seymour and his set, — he isn't either a fool or a knave,  — he is simply innocent.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 277-8

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, July 19, 1863 – 7 p.m.

Centreville, July 19, 7 P. M.

All Thursday and Friday, we lay by the roadside, booted and saddled, — waiting for orders. Yesterday, about noon, orders came, and since then we have been marching hard. I haven't told you yet that I was serving with infantry, — and indeed I hope I have shaken them off for some time, — they are fifteen miles behind, and I don't mean to let them draw any nearer. I was ordered on Wednesday to take command of all the available cavalry in the district (about 650 only) and report to General Rufus King, who was to move out along the line of the Orange and Alexandria R. R., and get it ready to supply Meade's Army at Warrenton or Manassas Gap. I was to precede his march and reconnoitre towards the front and towards the Gaps.¹ Yesterday word came that Lee was again “conscripting” along the Occoquan, and that the conscripts (all men under 45) were to be at Bentsville; so down I started with three squadrons, found no conscripts, but arrested the Lieut.-Colonel who had ordered the draft, and brought him in with quite a number of other prisoners,  — much to the delight, I believe, of the neighbourhood. To-morrow I don't know where I shall go, but to-night I wish you could see our bivouac; it is on the slopes of Centreville facing West, one of the most commanding positions in Virginia; now, just at dusk, it commands a lovely, indistinct view stretching quite out to the Blue Ridge.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 276-7