Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, September 21, 1862

Maryland Heights, September 21, 1862.

To go back a little; last Sunday, we marched through Frederick, almost the last corps of McClellan's army. We marched to the sound of the cannon to Middletown Heights, reaching the latter place about half-past one Monday morning, after the battle had been fought and won by our men. We lay down on the ground and slept till daylight.

Monday we marched to within about five miles of Sharpsburgh. Tuesday we united our corps to the main army. A battle was expected that day, but nothing took place beyond a little shelling. We were aroused that night at ten o'clock and marched to our position on line, reaching it between one and two A. M. We were just behind Hooker's division. There was continual picket firing throughout the night.

I awoke at daylight with the full conviction that we were going to fight a battle that day. The first thing to do, of course, was to eat a good breakfast, which I fortunately had with me. I had scarcely finished before the cannonading began, followed quickly by heavy musketry volleys. We got under arms at once and our corps marched forward. We halted just before reaching the field, while our gallant general, Mansfield, gave the orders for our disposition. He was a splendid old veteran; fine white hair and beard. He had commanded us for three days only, but we all felt his good influence. The poor man received his mortal wound before we had been under fire five minutes.

Our brigade moved up into an apple orchard; we had the right. The Third Wisconsin was engaged first, receiving a tremendous fire; we were quite well protected. Captain Mudge was slightly wounded, and about a half a dozen men. Our regiment was now called upon to support the Third Wisconsin. We formed a line almost at right angles with theirs, and poured a heavy cross-fire on the rebels, who were in a cornfield not a hundred yards off; this continued about ten minutes, when the rebel line broke, turned and ran. Our brigade now advanced with a tremendous cheer; the whole field before us was literally covered with dead and dying; we took a number of prisoners from the rebels and the battle flag of the Eleventh Mississippi. We advanced in line for several hundred yards, then halted; our part of the work had been done for the present.

It was sad, now, to look around and see the shattered battalions that were left in the places of the comparatively full regiments we had seen an hour before. The Third Wisconsin had lost more than half its numbers, and almost all its officers; it was very much the same with the Forty-sixth Pennsylvania. Our loss had been very small, though I think our fire was altogether the most effective of any regiment. Colonel Dwight caught up our rebel flag and rode by our line, waving it triumphantly; every cap went off and a cheer went up that you must almost have heard at Jamaica Plain. It was one of our poor Lieutenant-Colonel's last gallant acts, and I don't believe many who saw him will ever forget it.

All of a sudden, Sumner's whole corps came up behind us; we gave them a cheer as they passed by. They were in three lines and looked splendidly. They advanced into a wood and were met by an awful fire; they returned it gallantly, but were unequal to their task and were obliged to give way to the right a little, leaving the woods to the enemy. All this time we were lying down flat under a heavy fire of solid shot and shell, which tore the ground up around us, but as usual did no harm.

Now came our turn again; Gordon's brigade was ordered to attack the woods on the right. We crossed a high rail fence into a lane¹ and ensconced ourselves behind the fence on the other side within fifty yards of the woods; we had on our right and left two new regiments. We had hardly taken our position when the rebel line came out of the woods, so near you could distinguish the features of the men. We gave them a volley which sent them back in quick time under cover of a natural breastwork they had there; then, without any cause, the new regiments bolted, officers [Sept. 22, 1862, The first sheet was written on picket: I was suddenly relieved and am now in camp in Pleasant Valley] and men, and we were left alone. We stood it for about ten minutes, losing a third of our men and several officers, when the order was reluctantly given to fall back. This we did in good order (though it was hard work getting over that high fence in our rear, with much appearance of dignity), for about a hundred yards, when the regiment was halted; then ranks closed up and again made ready for attack or defence.

Now, too, it was sad to look at our thinned ranks; I found I had lost two men killed and five wounded; many of the companies had suffered more severely, but our greatest loss was Colonel Dwight. I saw his horse shot, and saw him dismount and try and hold his horse by the head, but the animal struggled so violently that he broke away; almost immediately afterward, Colonel Dwight received his death wound. He was within six feet of Colonel Andrews at the time, and as he was struck and sank to the ground, said, "That's done for me." As soon as our regiment halted, four men immediately volunteered to bring him in; this they succeeded in doing, though all the time under a heavy fire. He was carried to a farmer's house, but lived only about thirty-six hours. Lieutenant Mills, acting Adjutant, was badly shot through both legs; Crowninshield received a flesh wound in the leg. Captain Francis was shot through the hand and lost two fingers. Colonel Andrews' horse was shot through the shoulder. Captain Shaw was struck by a spent ball in the neck; Robeson was grazed in two places; I was struck by a spent ball in the temple, which laid me on my back for a moment and raised a pretty black and blue spot; I thought at first it was all up with me, but I soon got the better of that idea. We carried into action less than two hundred and forty men and lost about eighty killed and wounded.² During the rest of the battle, we were on different parts of the field supporting batteries. We lay down that night about ten o'clock, glad enough to get a little rest. The dead and dying were all around us and in our very midst.

At the first streak of daylight, I awoke; the first sight I saw was a squad of wounded rebels coming into our lines: you can't imagine such miserable looking objects as they were; their wounds undressed, and bleeding, and their clothes torn in tatters. I found that Bob Shaw and I had slept within fifty feet of a pile of fourteen dead rebels, and in every direction about us they were lying thick.

One of the most brilliant actions of the day was a charge of Smith's division; they passed our left and swept the rebels from their front like chaff. Our artillery was splendidly served and did great execution. Everywhere the rebels fought with desperation. Rebel prisoners stated that their army numbered over one hundred thousand, and that they expected to win the day and annihilate our army and have an open road to the North. Friday morning, we had been reinforced by at least thirty thousand men, and McClellan moved his whole army forward, but the rebels had gone, leaving dead and wounded on the field uncared for; the sight everywhere was dreadful, and one that I hope you may never see the like of; it cannot be imagined or described.

Our corps marched until two o'clock Saturday morning, over the roughest of roads and through the darkest of nights, reaching the summit of Maryland Heights ridge about ten miles from Sandy Hook; here we lay down till daylight, then marched along the ridge over rocks and stumps to Maryland Heights. Our old crowd had a nice dinner at Mrs. Buckles'; it was very pleasant. I was sent out upon our old camping ground with my company to do picket duty. Here I stayed until Sunday evening, when I was relieved and marched my company down a breakneck road to the regiment which was bivouacking in Pleasant Valley. 1 arrived about nine P. M., and lay down and slept under a blanket for the first time for a week. It was luxury enough, though there was nothing overhead but blue sky.

To-day we pitched camp and began our work with company books and papers, thinking at last we were going to rest; but to-night our hopes are dashed by an order saying, “Reveille at four o'clock; march at daylight.” I am now sitting up to finish this letter, because if we move as we have been moving, it is actually impossible to write.

_______________

¹ The Hagerstown turnpike, which is quite narrow at this place.

² Actual loss 18 killed and mortally wounded, 54 wounded. Total loss, 72.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 86-90

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, August 13, 1862

On Picket Near Culpepper,

August 13, 1862.

At last I believe I have a chance to write you an account of our doings during the last few days, and to relieve all your anxiety about myself. Last week Wednesday, our army corps marched from Washington, making about fourteen miles under a terribly hot sun; the next day, we went on five miles further to Hazel River. Friday night we made a moonlight march to Culpepper. Saturday morning, we started away again at ten o'clock towards the Rapidan River, leaving everything behind us, knapsacks and all, taking only two days' rations and plenty of ammunition.

We were ordered to the front to support General Crawford's brigade; following our brigade was General Augur's division, consisting of two small brigades, the whole making up Banks' army corps; we formed line of battle about six miles from Culpepper in a very strong position, our brigade on the right and Augur's division on the left. Nothing occurred until about half-past three in the afternoon, when a cannonading gradually began, increasing every minute until our entire left became engaged. From our position, we could see all that was taking place, and it was a sight that I shall never forget, to see two lines of infantry gradually approach each other across an almost level plain, both under a heavy artillery fire. As they drew near enough, we could see them exchange volley after volley of musketry; then everything became enveloped in smoke and we could see only whether our line advanced or retreated by watching the colors. It was easy to see that the men were falling fast by the constant lines of ambulances that we saw going and returning from the field.

About five o'clock, Crawford's brigade moved up in front of us and became engaged. The firing of musketry now became tremendous. We could see nothing of it in front on account of an intervening bill. At about six o'clock, our brigade (Second Massachusetts, Third Wisconsin, and Twenty-seventh Indiana), was ordered up on the double quick to relieve Crawford, his brigade having been literally cut to pieces by the terrible fire of the rebels. After going about a mile over the hardest kind of swampy and wooded ground, we reached the edge of the woods and came under fire. We marched steadily along, our whole flank being exposed, and took a position behind a low rail fence, the men being ordered to lie down. I will give you an idea of how things stood at the time. General Augur's division had been obliged to fall back to their original position and was now disengaged. Of General Crawford's brigade which went into the fight two thousand strong, twelve hundred had been killed, wounded or taken prisoners; the small remainder was rallying at some distance from the field, so there was nothing left to fight the rebels with but our three small regiments. Crawford met with his great loss in charging across the open field lying between the woods. General Gordon was ordered by Banks to do the same thing with our brigade; Gordon protested against it as an impossibility without supports, and finally gained his point.

At first, we sustained a fire from the rebels only in the woods, which was not very severe, but soon the enemy made their appearance in an oblique line and commenced a cross fire which was perfectly fearful. The Twenty-seventh Indiana gave way almost at once; the Third Wisconsin stood it nobly and did not fall back until the enemy was almost in their rear. In our regiment, not a shot was fired until Colonel Andrews gave the order “Commence firing!” which was not until the rebels were within two or three hundred yards of us. The effect was tremendous; we actually tore great gaps through their ranks, and their whole right was wavering; if we could have had any support at that time, we might have charged and driven their line like sheep, but that wasn't in Banks' programme. Meanwhile, the roar of musketry was perfectly deafening; the noise of the bullets through the air was like a gale of wind; our poor men were dropping on every side, yet not one of them flinched but kept steadily at his work.

Sergeant Willis of my company (I forgot to say I was in command of Company I), who was acting first sergeant, stood directly in front of me; he received a ball in his head and fell back into my arms saying, “Lieutenant, I'm killed!” and almost instantly died; he was a very handsome young fellow, and as he expired his face had a beautifully calm expression. I laid him down gently on the ground beside me and had hardly done so, when one of my corporals named Pierson, who was touching me on the left, was shot almost in the same place, but not killed. It is impossible to relate all the incidents that took place; it seemed as if only a miracle could save any one. I received two bullets through my trousers, but wasn't scratched. Colonel Andrews was splendid! He kept riding from one end of the line to the other, giving his orders coolly, as if on drill; his horse was wounded twice.

I never was more surprised in my life than when I heard the order to retreat. I did not know what had taken place on our right, and could not understand what it was for. With Lieutenant Abbott's assistance, I managed to help Lieutenant Oakey off the field to the hospital; he was quite severely wounded. Our regiment formed behind the hospital, about a quarter of a mile from the field, the rest of the brigade joining us. It was not until I saw the regiment in line that I began to appreciate our loss. Major Savage had been left severely wounded on the field; Captain Abbott, dead; Captains Carey, Goodwin, Williams and Quincy, Lieutenants Perkins and Miller, wounded and left behind; Lieutenants Robeson, Grafton, Oakey, Browning and Surgeon Leland, wounded and brought off, and Captain Russell missing, and our regimental line was not more than half its usual length. The only officers left were Andrews, Adjutant Shelton, Captain Bangs, Lieutenants Pattison, Choate, Fox, Abbott and myself. Our colors, those which the Boston ladies gave us, had five bullet holes through them; the eagle was shot off and the staff was shot through by a minié ball, splintering it into two pieces; our color-bearer, Sergeant George, brought off the whole of it. This is the second flag we have had honorably used up in battle.

Soon after forming our second line, I was detailed by the Colonel to go to the hospital to take charge of sending off the wounded. A house with quite a large yard had been taken for hospital use; the scene in and about it was very painful. Soldiers lying in all directions, with every variety of wounds. I took hold and worked hard, loading the ambulances, for about an hour, when our regiment moved and I was ordered to join it.

Our brigade now took up a position on the left of the line of battle, to do picket duty, Ricketts' division being on the right. Our sentinels were close to the rebels and we had continual skirmishes throughout the night. We had one man killed, and took several of the rebel cavalry prisoners. Once the enemy crept down on us, as they did that night at Newtown, and poured a volley over us, which, luckily, was too high and did no harm. Morning came at last, after, to tell the truth, a pretty nervous, disagreeable night. Daylight showed us that large reinforcements had arrived and that we were now in a condition to fight, but the day wore on, still no attack was made by the enemy. Banks' division was in reserve.

The battle I do not consider a victory to either side; we held our original position and they theirs, the ground between being neutral. Our brigade was withdrawn from the field about noon and bivouacked in a wood near by. I was sent into Culpepper on official business for Colonel Andrews. The town seemed to be one great hospital, every hotel and private house, almost, being used for that purpose. I saw Robeson, Grafton, Oakey and Browning; they were all suffering considerably from want of attention; the first is wounded in the wrist, the second in the forehead, the third in the hip, and last in the thigh, a very severe, dangerous wound. I got back to camp early in the evening. Soon after, Lieutenant Abbott, Mr. Quint and a burial party, left for the battle field to perform the last duties for our poor men. Abbott returned early in the morning and brought the shocking and sad intelligence that Captains Abbott, Carey, Goodwin and Williams and Lieutenant Perkins, were lying dead on the field, and that a number of our wounded were still there. I was sent right off with all our ambulances to the field. The scene there was too awful to attempt to describe; very few of the dead had been buried, and they were lying thick in every direction. Captain Carey had lived nearly twenty-four hours and looked as natural as if alive.

I had the bodies of all the officers put into the ambulances and sent them back to the regiment; the wounded also were all cared for. I then went over to the rebel lines with Bob Shaw, under a flag of truce, to see what could be heard of Harry Russell, the Major, Captain Quincy and Lieutenant Miller. We met some very pleasant rebel officers who were very gentlemanly and kind, and found out from them and some other sources, that Russell was unhurt and a prisoner, Quincy and Miller wounded and prisoners; we managed to get some money to Savage and Russell.

Our loss, as it stood yesterday morning, was as follows:—

5 Commissioned officers killed,	8 wounded,	1 prisoner.
25 Enlisted men killed,	97 wounded,	33 missing.
30 killed,	106 Wounded,	34 missing,	Total 169.*

We carried into action twenty-two commissioned officers and four hundred and seventy-four enlisted men, a little more than one out of three meeting with some casualty. In Company I, there are, one sergeant killed, one sergeant wounded, one corporal wounded, nine privates wounded and one missing. Yesterday afternoon, Banks' army corps moved back to Colpepper to reorganize. I was sent out on picket immediately after arriving last night, and am taking the opportunity to write this long letter. I have not had my clothes off since last Thursday night, so you can imagine I am not very pretty to look at. I am a full-fledged Captain now, and have got my commission. I shall be assigned to Company B, if possible.

Poor Captain Williams! I saw him standing perfectly erect only a few minutes before he was shot, and ran over and spoke to him. His was the next company to mine. He will be a great loss to us all.

_______________

* The actual loss was 58 killed and mortally wounded, 101 wounded, 15 prisoners not wounded. Total loss 174.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 75-81

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 12, 1862

Camp Near Warrenton,

July 12, 1862.

Last Sunday our division broke camp, and after a tedious day's march, accomplished only about five miles, the whole day being used up getting the wagon train across the Shenandoah. The weather was fearfully hot, equal to the famous eighth, last July. When we formed line before going into camp, many men fell fainting in the ranks.

Monday, we made an early start, and crossed the Blue Ridge through Chester Gap. The scenery was beautiful, but the weather was fearful; we camped for the night in a fine wood near the village of Flint Hill. Next morning we went on, five miles farther, to near Amesville. We stayed there until yesterday, when we marched to this camp, two miles west of Warrenton. All along our route, the men have almost subsisted on cherries and blackberries, both growing in the greatest profusion here; the men would fill their quart dippers in less than ten minutes.

We have got into a new country in appearance; the mountains have entirely disappeared and given place to splendid, great rolling hills and valleys, with beautiful woods scattered over them. The views that you get in this State are certainly wonderful in their extent. From the top of a comparatively slight elevation you can see for a distance of twenty miles all about you. I think that there is to be a large army concentrated here, and that, then, we are to move “On to Richmond,” by the present indications; there is already considerable force here and it is increasing.

I rode into Warrenton yesterday with Bob Shaw and Dr. Stone; we found the place a great improvement on most southern towns. There are some very pretty houses and well kept lawns and gardens in the vicinity. We took tea at the “Warren Green Hotel,” regaling ourselves on iced milk and corn-bread, finishing the evening by smoking our cigars on the piazza. Just as we were coming away, Charley Horton arrived with his General; it was a great mutual surprise to us and a very pleasant one. We have received orders to-day to turn in all tents except a limited number for the officers, to send away all trunks, each officer to keep only a small valise and roll of blankets. Regiments, etc., are also to keep constantly on hand ten days' rations, so you see we are all ready for a long march; don't care how soon it comes if it carries us towards Richmond! I am acting Adjutant for the present, but shall not be appointed, as Colonel Andrews says the time will be too short before I get my promotion, to make it worth while.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 70-2

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, June 5, 1862

Camp Near Williamsport, Md.,

June 5, 1862.

You see by my heading that we are still on the wrong side of the river, but we shall be so for only a few days longer. I will mention some of the narrow escapes that came under my notice. Bob Shaw was struck by a minie ball, which passed through his coat and vest and dented into his watch, a very valuable gold one, shattering the works all to pieces, doing him no damage with the exception of a slight bruise; the watch saved his life; he has sent it home. A private in our company was struck in the forehead by a ball which cut a groove right across it, doing no harm and making an honorable scar. Another of our men was struck down in the street at Winchester by one of Stuart's cavalry; the sabre glanced on his cap and inflicted only a slight wound in his head; he was passed over as dead by the cavalry; he then quietly got up and escaped through a side street and across to Harper's Ferry. A corporal in my platoon, Saturday night, was raising the rammer of his piece to “ram cartridge,” when a ball came between the fingers holding the rammer cutting into each. You remember Sergeant Lundy of whom I sent home a daguerreotype; well, he was cut off from the regiment by some cavalry, but managed to hide from them and get on to the Harper's Ferry road. Soon after, he caught sight of three of Ashby's men sitting by the side of the road; he got close to them, then presented his piece and told them they were his prisoners, and they were brought by Sergeant Lundy to our camp, where they were delivered over to the Provost Marshal.

One of our privates named Fagan was shot through the arm, and walked all the way to the Potomac that day; he is one of the best men in our company, only about eighteen years old. Another, named Stevens, was struck in the back by a piece of a shell, knocking him down, but only slightly wounding him; he got up with a smile on his face and was making some joke about it when another ball passed through First Sergeant Hatch's coat and into his hips, wounding him severely; he fell and I thought at the time he was killed, but I know now he is safe in the Winchester hospital. There were dozens more similar cases, but I have told enough to show that bullets were pretty plenty that Saturday and Sunday. The thing that strikes everybody most forcibly after a battle is, how it can be possible for such a small proportion of the bullets to produce any effect.

I suppose you have heard of Charley Horton's having his horse shot under him. He was close by our company at the time, the horse, a large gray one, was struck by two balls, one passing through his head, the other through his body.

I am happy to say that Gordon is going to get a brigade at last; he deserves it more than any Colonel I know of. This makes Captain Savage, Major; George Bangs, Captain, and me, Senior Lieutenant; and probably First Sergeant Powers, of Company H, Second Lieutenant. I hope that Gordon will get this brigade and Green will be transferred.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 66-8

Major Wilder Dwight: August 30, 1861

camp Near Darnestown, August 30, 1861.

It is broad, bright noon; the men are cooking their breakfasts, the sun is drying out their clothes, the tents are ready to pitch, the Brigade Quartermaster is sitting in our tent rehearsing his exploits on the road, — how one teamster beat a horse's eye out; how, if another had hawed instead of geeing, all would have been well; how the one-line Pennsylvania saddle team-driving is better than our four-rein driving of our wagons; how this and how that would have made the march easier, and a day march instead of a night one. And such a march! But I must go back and bring myself from Washington. I wrote a hurried scratch one evening while listening to General Heintzelman's account of Bull Run. My next day was busy with the providing for my companies, and getting a delivery of the wagons to government. I was quartermaster, commissary, colonel, major, and all in one. At last, however, I succeeded in arranging things to my mind, and went out of town to my camp at Georgetown. Here I had collected the three companies which had come as escort of three separate trains. Here, too, I had packed two of the trains.

On Wednesday morning we made a good start from camp, and Captain Handy, of the Webster regiment, led the column briskly. We marched nineteen miles, a strong day's work. It was a cloudy, drizzly day. The companies came into camp at four o'clock. Tents were pitched, supper got briskly. Captain Mudge, Lieutenants Shaw and Robeson were the officers of the company from our regiment.

Mr. Desellum,* who lived near our camping-ground, invited us to supper with him, and gave us what we all prized, — a good one. Appetite and digestion wait on one another on a march. Mr. Desellum was a character. He had lived on his place all his life, and never gone beyond the limits of the two adjoining counties; his father and grandfather were rooted in the same soil. He gave me a full account of the surrounding country, and also a capital map. Both he and his maiden sister were ardent Union lovers, and bitter in their hatred of Jeff Davis. He was very calm and intelligent, formal and precise, full of talk of the war, of the battles of Napoleon, &c. He lives with his sister in their faultlessly clean home, with twenty-five negroes. When asked if he owned slaves, “No, the slaves own me,” which, I think, expresses his conscientious performance of his duties. I gave orders to have reveillé at four o'clock in the morning and to have a brisk start. I took pleasure in attempting to realize some of my theories about the march, and had great satisfaction in accomplishing a good breakfast and an early start; and before eight o'clock in the morning my men had marched from their camp on Muddy Creek to Nealsville, eight miles. There we met the report that the regiment had left Hyattstown, and was on the march with the whole column. I halted my detachment, and galloping on, met General Banks at the head of his division. I reported to him, and got his order to direct my companies to join their regiments when they came up. Then I went on myself, back to see our regiment; I found them halted in a wood in the driving rain. After a greeting with the Colonel, whom I found acting as brigadier of our brigade in the absence of Colonel Abercrombie, I went back again to wait with my companies the slow progress of the column. It rained hard. The wagons made slow work. At about one o'clock our regiment, the first of the Second Brigade, reached us at Nealsville. There we turned off down towards Darnestown, — a charming name!

At last we were pointed to a camping-ground at a place called Pleasant Mountain, — a valley or hill, I can't say which. But where were our wagons? Far back on the heavy, wet, and swampy road. Just at dusk the regiment fell down, tired, into the wet stubble, and the fog settled chill upon it. The evening star looked mildly down, but it gave no cheer. Colonel Andrews was sick, Colonel Gordon in charge of the brigade. I did what I could, — got the guard posted, good fires built of the neighboring rail-fences, in the absence of other wood, and then, wet and tired, lay down myself. The march was mismanaged by the higher powers. It was wretched to see our cold and hungry men lying down dripping and supperless in the cold fog to sleep. The start was a late one. The rain ruined the road, and the delays were so many that the large column made a poor business of its day's work. This morning at five I hurried off to get up the wagons. The sun rose clear. By dint of activity, getting a party to mend road, &c., the wagons came in about ten o'clock, and hope revived. I also got a cup of tea and a breakfast, and I revived. Such is our life. I have certainly been active for a week, and now, to-day, comes shoe distributions and muster-rolls, &c. I quite envy those regiments that are quiet and in position near Washington, with every facility for order, discipline, drill, food, &c.; but, as Birdofredum Sawin says, “I’m safe enlisted for the war,” and come what will, I will be content. Though last evening, in the fog and dark and cold, I felt, as I lay down with wet feet and wet clothes, a little like grumbling at the stupidity of our Adjutant-General, who planned and executed our uncomfortable march, which hit me just as I wanted a little rest. I was happy to wake up this morning with only a little sensation of stiffness, which wore off in my early ride of six miles. During my ride I snatched a breakfast at a farm-house, and enjoyed the sensation of health and sunshine. Though I began this letter at noon, I am finishing it by candle-light. It has been interrupted variously; at this moment the Colonel comes to my tent, and says, “That is a beautiful sight,” pointing to the camp-fires and lights on the hills about us. The Webster regiment is just opposite us, and their band is now playing. We are within six miles of the Potomac. Everything here looks every day more like business; but we have not the presence of McClellan, and one who has just come from that present influence misses it as he would the quick pulse of health. The coming man is not a mere phrase. There is no cant, either, in the phrase. How we have waited for him! And has he come? I hope. Discredit all rumor. That is my advice. . . . .

I do not seem to myself to have given anything like a picture of the active life of the past week, but Colonel Andrews wants my help about rations, the Chaplain wants my letter for the mail, I want time for various things, and so good night.

_______________

* See Appendix VII.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 86-9

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, March 15, 1862

Camp Near Winchester, March 15, 1862.

I never thought to head a letter as this is headed until after a hard fight, but so it is. I will give you a short journal of things as they happened to us since I wrote mother last Sunday.

Monday morning about two thirty, we were again awakened by C. Wheaton, Jr., with the orders, “Wake your cooks; cook three days' rations; reveille at five; breakfast immediately after; march at seven.”

Reveille and breakfast took place per order, but marching orders did not arrive until past eleven, when they came post haste, ordering us to leave tents and baggage and march at once, as General Gorman, who had gone on with his brigade, was threatened with an attack. Start we did and marched eleven miles to Berryville, but saw no enemy. Our brigade was marched into a wood to bivouac; we stacked arms in line of battle and then allowed the men to get straw from a neighboring stack to make themselves comfortable with. With the help of rails borrowed from fences, various styles of shelter were rigged up. We made one to accommodate four of us, that was quite comfortable, although the night was cold and windy, with occasional rain squalls. Hogan and Tom (Captain Williams' servant), built us a fire, and then went foraging for a supper; they succeeded in getting two or three slices of raw bacon, some hard boiled eggs and a canteen of milk. With these, we made a good supper, toasting the bacon to a delicate brown and making some good tea in my faithful tea pot. I have got to be a pretty good campaigner, now, and never start on any kind of a march without my rubber blanket, my thick woollen one and a haversack containing a little bag of tea, coffee and sugar, some hard bread, a piece of salt pork and my aforementioned tea and coffee pot. With these articles, I can make myself and several others happy, no matter where we bring up.

Rolled up in our blankets, with a fire at our feet, we enjoyed a good night's sleep. The next morning was very pleasant, although cool; breakfast was a repetition of supper; in fact, almost every meal up to date has been, varying bacon with pork and tea with coffee. We passed the day lazity; four or five regiments and as many batteries came up in the morning and camped near us. Wednesday was a beautiful, warm day with us; our company was detailed for “Grand Guard.”

About five o'clock that afternoon, we received orders to draw in our vedettes and report with the company at the camp as soon as possible, as the brigade had received marching orders. We joined the regiment on the Winchester road. It was a fine, clear moonlight night and we had a very good road. We marched until nearly half past twelve, to within a mile of Winchester, and bivouacked in a very thick pine wood. The trees were so thick that we officers all lost each other, each one, on finding a comfortable place, settling himself for the rest of the night. I was lucky enough to stumble across Hogan and got my blanket; after a good cup of coffee, I rolled up under a pine tree and slept soundly until morning. Looking around me at daylight, I saw Captain Williams not twenty yards from me, alongside of Charley Horton, Captain Savage and several other officers. George Bangs and Captain Goodwin presented a lamentable appearance, not having brought any blankets. Our wagons came up in good season for the men to get their breakfasts, and at ten, or thereabouts, we pitched our camp in a neighboring field. Yesterday, Bob Shaw and I walked into Winchester to see the sights. It is a rather decayed-looking town, larger than Frederick; some fine houses, not many. We saw Mason's house, now used by the field officers of the Fifth Connecticut; the shops and stores are almost empty, but will probably revive rapidly. We took dinner at Taylor's Hotel, a pretty large house; a great many officers there. While we were in town, a skirmish took place on the Strasburg road four or five miles from town, resulting in our capturing between twenty and thirty prisoners; we saw them marched into town, some in uniform, some not.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 41-3

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

Oct. 13, 1863.

I am sorry to disturb George, — but Mosby is an honourable foe, and should be treated as such. S. and I had various tilts on that subject two years ago. I have not changed my opinion in spite of the falsehoods of Beauregard and the perfidy of Davis or his War Department. We have acknowledged them as belligerents, and we must treat them accordingly; we gain more by it in our State questions than we lose by it in military respects.¹

_______________

¹ Mr. George William Curtis, Colonel Shaw's brother-in-law, had evidently had his patience overtaxed by the recent outcrop of barbarity at Fort Wagner, and had little left for guerrillas and their methods. Colonel Lowell had something of the trait which his uncle, in the poem about Blondel, gave to Richard Cœur de Lion : —

“To foes benign, in friendship stern.”

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 313, 444-5

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, February 24, 1862

Cantonment Hicks, February 24, 1862.

Last Friday my two boxes arrived while I was on guard. I had them carried to my tent and invited my friends for Saturday night. Saturday, the 22d, our regiment went into Frederick with the brigade to parade through the streets, so I had a good chance to make my preparations. I borrowed a white tablecloth of a civilian, and the necessary dishes from our mess, silver, etc. Everything came out of the boxes in perfect order; the pudding dish was broken, but the pudding was all right. I found your note describing the contents, stuck to a pie. Dinner was ordered to be ready at half-past five and at that time punctually my guests made their appearance, hungry as bears after their ten-mile tramp. The table had a truly grand and magnificent appearance. In the centre of the white cloth reposed the turkey in all its glorious proportions, filling the air with its fragrance, its flanks and approaches were well guarded by those noble grouse, currant jelly, potatoes, etc. Plates were set for seven: Captains Williams and Russell, Lieutenants Shaw, Horton, Perkins, Oakey and myself. Candles suspended over our heads furnished the light in very festive style. Captain Williams carved the turkey in a most scientific manner, it was splendid; if it had not been for the grouse, there would have been very little but bones taken out of the tent, but the grouse, they were perfection; and now I come to them, I insist on knowing who sent them; the health of the donor, he or she, was drunk in both Sherry and Madeira, and will be drunk again when the name becomes known. Pudding, pies, coffee and cigars followed in proper order, and after a prolonged sitting of four hours we got up from the table convinced that in future years we should remember the 22d of February, not as Washington's birthday, but as the anniversary of our dinner in Cantonment Hicks. The whole affair was a perfect success, and I am truly thankful to you for the pains and trouble you took to make it so. It will stand out as a bright mark in our usual monotonous routine.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 35-6

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 Major Henry L. Higginson, September 14, 1863

Centreville, Virginia, Sept. 14, 1863.

My Dear Henry, — I was glad to see your fist on an envelope some weeks ago. I ought to have written you sooner, but it is so infernally quiet here now that to get together material for a letter is a labour.

I am glad, old fellow, to hear that your wound is at length convalescent. It would have been a bore to carry a ball in it all your life, with a chance of its giving you a twinge any minute. . . .

You ask me no end of questions about the army. As if we take interest in the army. We are an independent, fancy department, whereof I command the cavalry, and we take no interest in wars or rumours of wars. I have seen men who profess to be going to and from the “front,” — but where is the “front”? We are in the “front” whenever General Halleck has an officer's application for leave to endorse. Stanton is so fond of us, however, that he keeps us on the safe “front” —  the “front” nearest Washington, whereby I am debarred from the rightful command of a brigade of five regiments in Gregg's division, which Gregg offered me, and which he applied for me to take, my own regiment being one of the five. But Stanton is very fond of us, and keeps us where it is safe.¹

. . . I hope you will be kept at home until next January, for between now and then I mean to be married (if President Lincoln and General Lee do not interfere), and I shall be glad to have your countenance, so do not let your wound heal itself too rapidly. What do you hear from Frank? Give him my love, when you write. Tell him I gave him myself as a sample to be avoided, and I now give him Rob Shaw as a pattern to be followed. I am glad Frank remained in that regiment. It is historic. The Second Massachusetts Cavalry and some others are more mythic. . . .

About coloured regiments, I feel thus, — I am very glad at any time to take hold of them, if I can do more than any other available man in any place. I will not offer myself or apply for a place looking to immediate or probable promotion. If one goes into the black business he must go to stay. It will not end by the war. It will open a career, or at any rate give experience which will, inevitably almost, consign a man to ten or twenty years' hard labour in Government employ, it seems to me. Since Shaw's death I have had a personal feeling in the matter to see black troops made a success; a success which would justify the use (or sacrifice) made of them at Wagner.

Do you know the President is almost ready to exchange your brother Jim, and leave Cabot (it might have been Frank just as well) in prison at Charleston, after all the promises that have been made by the officers of the Administration? This is disgraceful beyond endurance almost.²

_______________

¹ The Government and Major-General Heintzelman, commanding the Department of Washington, fully appreciated the advantage of having so efficient a cavalry commander and well disciplined a force in the neighbourhood. But they had to resist other competitors, for, besides the desires of General Gregg to have Lowell and his regiment in the Army of the Potomac, another general repeatedly importuned the War Department for them. Major-General N. P. Banks (Department of the Gulf), in his report to General Halleck, March 27, 1863, speaking of his need of cavalry, says: —

“I feel especially the loss of the Second Massachusetts Cavalry, raised expressly for my expedition; for, besides its strength, I relied upon Colonel Lowell to infuse the necessary vigour into the whole cavalry service.”

Again, April 18, 1863, General Banks sends the following message to Major-General Halleck: —

“I beg leave, at the risk of being considered importunate, to repeat my earnest request that more cavalry be sent to this department.  . . . If you will send me the Second Massachusetts Cavalry, raised expressly for my command, with their arms and equipments, I will mount them here from the horses captured on this expedition. Its commander, Colonel Lowell, is personally nearly as important to us as his regiment."

As late as September, General Banks was still pleading for the cavalry. General Halleck answered: “In regard to Colonel Lowell's regiment, I need simply to mention the fact that it is the only one we have for scouts and pickets in front of Washington.”

² The officers here spoken of are Captain James J. Higginson, of the First Massachusetts Cavalry (who was captured in the fight at Aldie, where his brother, the Major, was wounded), and Captain Francis Lee Higginson, his younger brother, and Captain Cabot J. Russel, both of the Fifty-Fourth. As has been said, Captain Russel's family were not sure of his death. When the news of the raising of coloured troops was heard in the South, it had been threatened that captured privates should be sold to slavery and the officers treated as felons. This threat was not carried out, but difficulties arose about exchanges; and in this matter, and that of their payment, the course of the Administration and of Congress was for a long time timid and discreditable.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 302-4, 443-4

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to John M. Forbes, August 4, 1863 – P. M.

Washington, Aug. 4, P. M.

With what you say about Negro Organization west of the Mississippi I entirely agree; it is a more aggressive movement than the Army of the Potomac has ever ventured upon, and in a larger view, it is incomparably important; every black regiment is an additional guarantee for that settlement of these troubles which we regard as the only safe one, and will continue to be a guarantee for the permanency of that settlement when made. Mr. Sumner has told me some of the difficulties in finding the man. I do not know any General who has the stuff in him, who is not too much tied up. Would it be impossible to get Mr. J. W. Brooks made Major-General and appointed to that Department, — he is so peculiarly the right man, — that is, if there is a chance of getting him? It ought to be tried. He is almost the only man I know who has the grasp and the originality for so large and so novel a work. Convince Stanton of his fitness, and by next December Brooks would have convinced everybody.¹ Military knowledge is the only thing he lacks, and that is the least of the things required. Brigadiers enough can be found to supply it; for a start, I would suggest General George L. Andrews; he is very strong on drill and discipline and minor organizations. He is already in the Southwest, and has probably lost by nine months' men the best part of his command.² Harry knows about him. Others could be found in the West and, when the fighting time comes, Barlow and many others would jump at the chance. In selecting officers from the Western Army, Brooks would have peculiar advantages, — he knows so many people there who would assist him in his inquiries. If there is to be cavalry (and of course there should be) I shall be very glad, if no better officer can be found, to try my hand under any General commanding. I shall probably never be so much with my regiment as I have been — I am now in command of the Cavalry of this Department (not very much), and if we go to the Army of the Potomac shall undoubtedly have a Brigade. This in reply to your remark about my leaving the Second.

Since Rob's death I have a stronger personal desire to help make it clear that the black troops are the instrument which alone can end the rebellion; he died to prove the fact that blacks will fight, and we owe it to him to show that that fact was worth proving, — better worth proving at this moment than any other. I do not want to see his proof drop useless for want of strong men and good officers to act upon it. I did what little I could to help the Fifty-Fourth for his sake and for its own sake before, but since July 18th, I think I can do more.

N. B. I have no wish to be made a Brigadier for any specific purpose, — when I am promoted I wish to be Brigadier for blacks, whites and everybody, and wherever I go. I am sure that will come in good time, but I shall be very glad to assist in the organization of black cavalry — if I am wanted.

_______________

¹ Mr. John W. Brooks left Massachusetts as a youth to begin life as a civil engineer on the New York Central, and, later, the Michigan Central Railroad. He had grown in power even more rapidly than these growing roads, and was occupying an important position in the management of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad. He had no military experience whatever except as having helped Governor Andrew by his advice in the purchase, through Mr. Forbes, of English cannon. Yet Lowell, a soldier, who knew Brooks's powers and intelligence, recommends him for a major-general, in a place where his administrative powers would be worth more than one or two battles gained. Mr. Forbes, in the spring of the same year, writing to Governor Andrew, had said of him, “Brooks is more than engineer or man of business: he has that wonderful combination which seems to me to amount almost to Genius; his mind is both microscopic and telescopic, according as the valves are pulled, and, above all, is sound at the medium, every-day insight which makes common sense; just as Napoleon could make parties and command armies while reforming his code of laws in detail. In fact, Brooks is more like Napoleon I than anybody else. Now, on all matters relating to the handling of men, Brooks has had great experience, and on any questions that come up about managing the draft, or giving bounties, or getting men, . . . nobody's judgment will be as good as his.”

² General George L. Andrews, an officer in the Regular Army, had been the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Second Massachusetts Infantry, which he had helped to raise.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 292-4, 433-4

Francis George Shaw to Abraham Lincoln, July 31, 1863

New York 31 July 1863.

To His Excellency

Abraham Lincoln,

President of the United States.

Sir:

My only son, Colonel Robert G. Shaw, of the Fifty fourth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, (colored troops) was killed on the parapet of Fort Wagner, in South Carolina, & now lies buried in its ditch, among his brave & devoted followers.

I feel that I have the right, in his name, to entreat you that immediate measures be taken to extend the protection of the United States over his surviving officers & men, some of whom are now prisoners, & over all others belonging to the colored Regiments in the Service, when they fall into the hands of the enemy. And this, not only as an act of humanity, but as required by justice & sound policy.

Our colored soldiers have proved their valor & devotion in the field; they deserve that their rights & the responsibilities of the Government towards them shall be proclaimed to the world & shall be maintained against all enemies.

If our son's services & death shall contribute in any degree towards securing to our colored troops that equal justice which is the holy right of every loyal defender of our beloved Country, we shall esteem our great loss a blessing.

I am, Sir,

with great esteem & respect,

Frans Geo. Shaw

SOURCE: This letter can be found among The Abraham Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress.

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 Anna Jackson Lowell, July 26, 1863

Camp Near Centreville, July 26, '63.

You will write me, I know, all you learn about the Fifty-Fourth. I see that General Beauregard believes Bob Shaw was killed in a fight on the 18th, — I hope and trust he is mistaken. He will be a great loss to his regiment and to the service, — and you know what a loss he will be to his family and friends. He was to me one of the most attractive men I ever knew, — he had such a single and loyal and kindly heart: I don't believe he ever did an unkind or thoughtless act without trying to make up for it afterwards — Effie says he never did (I mean she has said so, of course I have not heard from her since this news) — in that, he was like Jimmy. It cannot be so hard for such a man to die — it is not so hard for his friends to lose him.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 284

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Sturgis Russell, July 26, 1863

Centreville, July 26, '63.

I cannot help having a strong hope that Beauregard is mistaken in supposing Rob Shaw killed. If he is dead, they've killed one of the dearest fellows that ever was. Harry, I felt thankful that you and he were out of the Second at Gettysburg, — I thought of you both as surely safe, I had always felt of Rob too, that he was not going to be killed.

It was very noble of him ever to undertake the Fifty-Fourth, but he had great satisfaction in it afterwards, both of himself and from his friends' satisfaction, — I believe he would rather have died with it than with the old Second. Will it not comfort his Mother a little to feel that he was fighting for a cause greater than any National one?

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

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

June 24, Near Rockville, 9 P. M.

I wish I had received your letter of Monday three hours earlier. I would certainly have called on Stanton and made a strong case against land piracy. I went into town on business and had just time to call on Henry Higginson (who is going home to-morrow) when I learned that orders had been sent me to move camp to Poolesville, and picket the Potomac from the mouth of the Monocacy to Great Falls. I got your letter about an hour before starting. Poor Rob, — it is very trying indeed. I think Governor Andrew might easily be persuaded to remonstrate against such usage of Massachusetts troops. I have not quite decided whether or no, as an officer of the army much interested in black troops, I might not properly write to Stanton on the strength of what I have seen in the paper about Darien.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 264

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

Camp BrIghtwood, A. M., June 20, 1863.

I look for a general action soon, — and shall not be surprised if Lee has Washington by August 1st. Don't think me gloomy, — I should regard the loss of Washington as the greatest gain of the war.

I don't wonder Rob feels badly about this burning and plundering, — it is too bad. In stead of improving the negro character and educating him for a civilized independence, we are re-developing all his savage instincts. I hope when the Fifty-Fifth goes down there, they may be able to make a change in negro warfare. Such a gentle fellow as Rob must be peculiarly disturbed about it.¹

_______________

¹ One company of the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts Regiment had been part of a force under Colonel Montgomery, an old Kansas fighter, which had burned the village of Darien, Georgia. See Colonel Lowell's letter of June 26, to Hon. William Whiting of Massachusetts.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 261-2

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

November 6, 1864

I was remarking in my last, a week ago to-day, that General Meade spoke of being obliged to write his report. Yes! as you say, it is a pity he can't have some signal success. The Shaws need not be against him on the negro-soldier question, for if he has a bias, it is towards and not against them, and indeed it would go to the heart of the best Bob¹ to see the punctilious way in which he returns their salutes. I can say with certainty that there is not a General in this army from whom the nigs might expect a judicious helping hand more than from Meade. As to his being slow, it may be so; but I can't see that Grant, on whom rests this entire campaign, is any faster; yet he is a man of unquestioned military talent. If you knew, as I do, the number of men killed and wounded in this campaign from the Potomac Army alone, you would think that a strong opposition from the enemy had as much as anything to do with the want of crowning success thus far. To show what sort of work we have been through: at the assault of June 3d, at Cool Arbor, we lost, in four or five hours, 6000 men, in killed and wounded only. That is a specimen. Even in our move to the left, the other day, which some would call a reconnaissance, and others heavy skirmishing, we had a list of killed and wounded of not less than 1200. In fact, we cannot stir without losing more men than would make a big battle in the West, and the Rebels, if we have any chance at them, lose as many.

Last Sunday, which I was just speaking of, was marked by the arrival of one Alden, a rather dull Captain of the Adjutant-General's Department, who was however a welcome bird to the army, as he brought a large number of brevets for many deserving officers.  . . . To my surprise there did appear, or reappear, Major Duane, who has taken to visiting me as usual. He is better, but not well. To celebrate his arrival, and to retaliate for our rush into the Mine, the Rebs made a dash on our picket line, gobbled up some fifty stupids, who (being recruits) thought it was the relief coming round, and were then driven back; upon which, of course, every man fired off his musket a few times, to show how alert he was, the artillery threw all the shells whose fuses happened to be ready cut, and then all went to sleep again.

_______________

¹ Col. R. G. Shaw, who commanded the first negro regiment sent to the war.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 256-8