Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 29, 1863

STEAMER Convoy, Mouth of St. John's, March 29, 1863.

This is one of the sad days of my life. The evacuation of Jacksonville is the burial of so many hopes I had cherished for the oppressed, that I feel like one in attendance at the funeral of a host of his friends. I greatly fear we are to be put back: out of active service at a moment when there is most need for us to work. I believe our retrograde movement today is an error more serious and damaging to the interests of the enslaved than appears on the surface. . . Major Strong and his party visited, last night, the picket station of the rebels, but for some reason they found no one, and the search was useless.

Early this morning all was hurry and excitement. Insufficient means of transportation caused a good deal of grief among families obliged to leave behind furniture, and caused a good deal of profanity among officers and soldiers obliged to be packed as you would pack pork. This little Convoy, of 410 tons, has six companies of soldiers with all their equipments, forty or fifty citizens with all the truck we did not throw back upon the wharf: fifty horses: all the Commissary stores and all my hospital stores, save those needed on the John Adams. Were this crowded state to last but a few hours there would be no trouble, but it is thick weather and raining like fury, and the fleet dare not put out to sea before morning. I forgot to say that we have also all our camp tents on board. Here we are for the night.

Quite early this morning the 8th Maine boys began setting fire to the town a most shameful proceeding. I came near losing my hospital stores before I could find conveyance for them to the steamer. The hospital was burned and many buildings were on fire when we left. It seemed like an interposition of Providence that a heavy rain so soon came on, which probably saved part of the town. It also seems to me that Providence is interfering with General Hunter's order in a way that may be more or less destructive. The wind is changing to the East and our prospect of getting off in the morning is passing away.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 383

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 30, 1863

March 30.

Late last evening we succeeded in getting a hundred men ashore and decently quartered in old houses. The wind blew a gale most of the night, the rain poured in torrents, while occasional thunder and lightning added interest to the scene. I enjoyed it much more than if part of our men had not gone on shore. The Captain of the Convoy insisted on my taking his berth, so that my quarters were very good. I would sooner have lain on the hurricane deck in the storm than have slept in the cabin. At this moment I am writing in the captain's room with a crowd of homeless women and children around me. One important testimony from them I am glad to record. They prefer to be here with the poorest accommodations, rather than on the Boston or Delaware with nice staterooms and a large saloon. And what do you suppose is the reason? Because black soldiers do not offer them insults, and they do not feel so secure with white ones. It is established beyond all controversy that black troops, with worthy commanders, are more controllable than white troops. What they would be with a less conscientious Colonel, I cannot say.

This morning the Major and I went on shore and designated quarters for every company on board and now they are all drying and rejoicing themselves before blazing fires.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 383-4

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 31, 1863

March 31.

Our men are coming aboard again and we shall start for Fernandina this afternoon. Sending the men ashore was a great hit. Nearly all are in good condition. I was this morning obliged to amputate John Quincy's leg. His chances for life are only about one in three, owing to old age and impaired constitution. I am hard at work. Capt. B. treats me like a brother. I don't see how I could be better placed in this department.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 384

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 7, 1863

March 7.

This morning, at ten, the John Adams hove in sight. The officers report fog so dense as to prevent running her over the bar at Fernandina. If the rebels are not duller than I think them, we shall suffer for this most annoying delay.

The poor fellow whom I mentioned yesterday, died this morning. Were our men obliged to sleep aboard a few nights more, such deaths would be frequent. Yet I have everything done to prevent disease that, under the circumstances, can be done. Yesterday I found several ill on the Burnside, including Col. Montgomery and one of our best artillerists. Today all are in good condition and anticipating a fight.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 371

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 12, 1863

HEADQUARTERS, 1st S. C. Vols., JACKSONVILLE, FLA.        

March 12, 1863.¹

For once I have been so busy that I could not find time to note the thousand and one incidents of our expedition.

Tuesday morning, at two, our fleet of five steamers moved slowly up the St. Johns. Passed the yellow bluffs, the night glorious in its blue, misty moonlight, the river wide and beautiful. When daylight came we were delighted by the scenery of the shores and the cosy looking homes scattered here and there.

Strange as it may seem, the rebels were taken by surprise and the city was neither defended nor burned, and we landed without a gun being fired. One man came down to the wharf and caught the line when it was thrown off and the Col. was the first to step on shore. Then followed Capt. Metcalf and Capt. Rogers with their men and soon other companies followed, till pickets were posted in the suburbs. Meanwhile, Col. Montgomery and Capt. Trowbridge with their men, started off in the direction of the rebel camp. The John Adams, Boston and Burnside remain at the wharves, while the Uncas and the Norwich lie out in the stream.

We expect to hold this city, though I don't see how it is to be done without reinforcements. Our men will do almost anything, but I don't believe they can do so much picket service without exhaustion. Skirmishing is intensely exciting and they enjoy it beyond measure. Yesterday they brought in a saddle and some instruments that belonged to a surgeon of the cavalry, who was shot through the head. At every fight our boys have put the rebels to flight, though they have twice made the attack with forces superior to ours.

The rebel camp is eight miles out. It is not easy for us to know their exact force. Under the protection of gunboats, we are safe, but we hope, ere long, to be safe under our own protection. Many of our men were slaves here, not long ago and you can scarcely imagine the horror and dread the secesh have of them. We have a few important prisoners, one of whom was a lieut. in the U. S. army and afterward in the Confederate army.

Capt. Rogers is provost marshal and has his powers taxed considerably. He likes his work exceedingly and does it well. He rides a little secesh pony which he captured the first morning here. I am sick of "loyal slaveholders," and would not resort to the blasphemy of administering the oath to them. I think we are not doing so much of this last as some commanders have done.

I should judge this to be a town of 4000 inhabitants. It has excellent wharves and large brick warehouses more than half a mile in length. The town gradually rises from the river, back a third or half a mile. Streets and houses have gas fixtures, a New England look to everything, streets beautifully shaded by live oaks, now and then a Cornus Florida, the ground paved with its white petals, peach trees in full bloom.

Our headquarters are grand. The new brick house we occupy was owned by Col. Sanderson, one of the ablest lawyers in the state and one of the most traitorous. He is in Dixie while his family is north. I just now asked Serg't Hodges if he knew Sanderson. "Oh yes, I was one of the carpenters who worked many a hard day on that fine house."

There are probably 400 or 500 people remaining here. If everything goes right I shall convert the Washington Hotel into a hospital. At present we keep sick and wounded on the John Adams.

This is the only place that I have yet seen in the South that suits me for a residence. It is the most important position in Florida for us to hold. It has already been twice abandoned by our troops and it remains to be proved whether it must be abandoned a third time.

_______________

¹ The report of Brigadier General Joseph Finegan, dated March 14, gives the Confederate account. Saxton's report was brief. 1 Records of the Rebellion, XIV. 226.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 371-3

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 13, 1863—Evening

March 13, Evening.

The night was not a very quiet one for our sentinels at the barricades, firing enough to keep all on the qui vive, though no one was wounded on our side and I cannot learn that anybody but a secesh dog was found dead on the other side. . . .

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 373

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 14, 1863—Evening

March 14, Evening.

A curious incident occurred this morning which gave me a full hundred (from both regiments) sick and wounded to examine and prescribe for and fill out my prescriptions. The John Adams started for a secret raid up the river at daylight, without notifying Dr. Minor, the steward and hospital nurse, who were all sleeping on the boat. It was a good enough joke, but for me not so practical as to make me crave a repetition. Tonight our sick and wounded are in the hospital. Colonel Montgomery thought the Lord had grown these handsome shade trees especially for barricades, and I have never a doubt that the Washington Hotel, with its sixteen chambers, and a fire-place in each, was especially intended for a military hospital. Possibly it is because it seems too good to last that I deem it hazardous to bring our sick ashore, but the two Colonels assure me it is perfectly safe to do so.

Our belligerent Chaplain¹ is armed with a revolver on each side and a Ballard rifle on his back. He keeps so persistently on the advanced picket line that I could scarcely persuade him to conduct the funeral service of a poor fellow who was shot the other day. Today he got on the track of some cavalry and infantry, and was certain of surrounding and capturing them, if he could only get permission from the Colonel. His hatred of slavery is so intense that his prayers are of a nature to keep his powder dry.

We have burned a good many houses within a mile of town, to get rid of screens for the enemy between us and the woods, where rather formidable trees are being felled to complete our water barricade. The houses are often occupied by women and children whose husbands and fathers are in the Confederate service. The Chaplain, being a man of fire, has much to do with this matter. Today, I questioned him as to his usual mode of proceeding. I found he gave them the choice of the two governments, but with the explicit statement that their friends in arms were to be killed soon unless they came in and surrendered. His division of the effects of these families seems rather scriptural. "What seems to belong to the woman, I yield to her, but what seems to belong to the man, I have brought into camp."

Some of these cases are very pitiful and call out my deepest commiseration. Today I visited a poor widow who has a son in the rebel service. Her house was burned and she, with her children, was brought into town. She has not been able to walk a step during the last five months. On examination I found that her prostration was due entirely to privations and hardships resulting from war. For more than a year her food has been "dry hominy" with now and then a little fish. She was born in Alabama of "poor white" parents. As I talked to her it seemed to me it must be difficult for her to understand the justice of our coming here to invade the homes of those who had always earned their bread by the sweat of their brows.

Yesterday I conversed with a lady who lives in a pleasant cottage, with her beautiful little children and her aged mother. Her husband is a captain outside our barricades and when the Colonel granted her permission to go wherever she chose, she said so many had gone from the river and coast towns to the interior that one could scarcely find a barn to stay in or food to subsist on. She remains here for the present. Her husband was a music teacher and was taken into the army by conscription. From what I can learn of him through Union men, I have no doubt he would gladly return to loyalty. What are we to do with such families? "Things are a little mixed" here in the South, but we must all suffer the results of our great national sin, some one way, some another.

I have given out word that the Surgeon of our regiment will cheerfully and gladly attend to the medical needs of all civilians here. To be the means of relieving suffering is sufficient compensation, but in this case there is the additional good of being able to make anti-slavery statements in a satisfactory way.

I never supposed I could be so much gratified by comparatively level scenery. The river is very beautiful, – quite clear and of a deep amber color. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy my evening bath. Dr. Minor usually goes with me. Once, while in the water, the companies were hurriedly ordered to "fall in," but it seemed so unnatural that one's bathing should be interfered with that we were not startled by the alarm.

We find the rebel women here exceedingly desirous to prove that our soldiers are guilty of all the outrages they might expect from a long-injured people now in power. Many of our soldiers are natives of this place and meet their old mistresses here. On the day of our landing I was over and over implored, by those who knew their deserts, to protect them from the "niggers." It was an awful turning of the tables. I quite enjoyed saying "These are United States troops and they will not dishonor the flag."

Several charges have been preferred against the soldiers, but thus far, when sifted down, have proved quite as much against those who complained as against our men. The Adjutant told me of a lady of easy manners, who had been very much insulted by a soldier. Close investigation proved that he actually sat on her front door-step.

That our soldiers do some outrageous things, I have little doubt. When women taunt them with language most unbecoming, as they sometimes do, I should be very sorry if they did not return a silencer. Thus far they have behaved better than any white regiment has done under such temptations. They "confiscate" pigs and chickens because their captains connive at it and the Provost Marshal cannot do everything alone.

Today the John Adams and the Burnside are off on some speculation up the river. I was too busy to go with them this morning, or should have asked the privilege. Colonel Montgomery has gone with his men. They declare he is a "perfect devil to fight, he don't care nuttin 'bout de revels." His bravery is apparently rashness but in reality far from it. He evidently thinks the true mode of self-defense is to attack the enemy on his own ground.

_______________

¹ Rev. James H. Fowler, of Cambridge, Mass.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 373-5

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, [March 15, 1863]—Evening

Evening.

About six, the Burnside came down the river with horses, hogs, chickens and prisoners. They took Col. Bryant, just as he returned to his plantation after running his negroes into the back country. They report great quantities of cotton and cattle up the river, so I hope we really are to have fresh beef again.

It is nothing like as damp and unwholesome here as in South Carolina. The same amount of exposure there that our men have had here, would have given the hospital twenty or thirty cases of pleurisy and pneumonia, while today, we have but a single case of acute inflammation. There is coughing enough to keep back several rebel regiments. I see no reason, however, why the officers should not get intermittent fever from this handsome river, by and by. It looks as if midsummer might load it with miasma and alligators. . . .

I am gradually confiscating furniture for my spacious chamber in the best house of a beautiful town, as if it were my final residence. I enjoy the long cedar closet that opens out of my room. The fragrance is so sweet I cannot understand why moths object to it. having a perfect bath room, without any water in it and costly gas fixtures without any gas! The war has greatly deranged the machinery of this town. Almost everywhere, except in this house, I have found the lead pipes cut by the rebels and used, I suppose, for bullets. When Colonel Sanderson left here he placed his house in charge of a Union man, saying that it would naturally be the headquarters of any Union commander. Hence the more perfect preservation of the property.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 375-6

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 16, 1863—Evening

March 16, Evening.

The second floors of the warehouses on Bay street make capital quarters for our troops. The rebels burned many of the stores of Union men and would have burned their private dwellings if it could have been done without endangering their own.

One of our pickets came in today with a conical ball in his foot and complained that “de cunnel stood out forwad ob we lookin at de revels [rebels] wid de glass an wouldn't let we fire.” The Colonel afterwards told me that the range was so long that it would have been a waste of ammunition.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 376

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 17, 1863

March 17.

We are fairly at work at our legitimate business. The John Adams brought down, last evening, thirty contrabands, ten horses, and quantities of corn, hogs, cotton etc. Today the Burnside is off on a similar errand. Meanwhile our boys have had a smart skirmish about a mile and a half out and burned several houses occupied by the rebel advance pickets. As we are not here to act aggressively against Camp Finnegan, but simply to hold this town for headquarters, while making such advances from other points on the river as may seem best, it seems as if the enemy must have reached the conclusion, ere this, that we have means of defence. It is a mystery that they do not contrive some way to burn us out. Women and children are permitted to go and come without hindrance and they could do us the greatest damage by going back to their friends by the light of the town. I trust they will not think of it.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 376

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 18, 1863

March 18.

This morning a message came in by flag of truce from Camp Finnegan, giving us 24 hours to send out the women and children to the brick church, where the skirmish was yesterday, and their teams will meet them there.¹ The message was signed by Lieut. Col. [A. H.] McCormick. This afternoon another came from Col. [Duncan L.] Clinch [of the Southern army] repeating the former and adding that we should be held responsible for what might happen to those left in town. This looks as if they intend to approach the town with artillery and set it on fire with shells. This is feasible, in spite of our gunboats. If there is any pluck in them the attempt will be made. Many of our officers think the message a mere flourish for intimidation, but I do not and shall hold myself in readiness to send my sick and wounded to the steamer at short notice. Meanwhile we look for reinforcements by the Boston. Her delay is unaccountable.

Owing to hard fare and excessive fatigue, several of our officers are quite out of health. I am satisfied that the blacks have too much credit for good cooking. I have yet to find one who knows how to make bread or cook meat. If we hold this town we shall have a "post" and good bread, getting rid of the villainous fried dough which is bringing dysentery into camp.

_______________

¹ It was the Brick Yard Church. The order is in 1 Records of the Rebellion, XIV. 839.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 376-7

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 19, 1863

March 19.

The provost marshal and major have been very busy today, escorting the rebel women and children to their friends. Major Strong told me that while the teams were unloading, the marshal sat on his pony whistling the John Brown hymn. As James was not permitted to talk, I suppose he had to whistle in self defense. I very much wanted to go, but could not get permission. I suppose the Colonel is afraid I shall, sometime, go over to the rebels. About one hundred and fifty have gone out today, leaving about two hundred here. The Colonel is under no obligation to force civilians out of town without positive notification from the enemy that he intends to attack.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 377

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 20, 1863

March 20.

The enemy left us undisturbed during the night and I believe their chance has vanished with the rising of this morning's sun. The Boston has arrived with the sixth Connecticut regiment, and there are others to land. Meanwhile our earthworks are so nearly completed that guns are mounted and a large force could easily be repulsed. But last night more than one officer slept with his boots on.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 377

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 18, 1863—Evening

February 18, Evening.

We now have the medical department of our regiment so systematized that I find more freedom from care than a few weeks ago. The prospect of a change of location leaves my new hospital in statu quo.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 366

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 20, 1863—Evening

February 20, Evening.

Yesterday I visited Miss Murray's school on St. Helena Island. Miss Murray is assisted by Miss Towne and Miss Foster. Since the season for tilling the land has begun, the school has lessened in numbers from 200 to 125: both sexes and from three to fifteen years of age. Many of them have been under tuition several months and compare very favorably with Irish children after the same length of instruction, as I have seen them in N. E. From what I have seen in camp, I think the mode of receiving instruction is very different in the two races. Imitation and musical concert are the avenues to the minds of these children. Of course the habit of such dependence will be changed by education, but such is the beginning. After centuries of slavery, which utterly shut the avenues of thought, we should hardly expect rapid development of activity in the superior regions of thought. Only now and then, some genius, like Robert Sutton, can be left to prove the God-like relation. The simple fact is that use is less distructive than disuse.

I dined at Friend Hunn's and was accompanied by Miss Forten on a visit to Mr. Thorpe, who has charge of the Tripp plantation. “Edisto” [is] a meagre little confiscated creature from Edisto Island, with a saddle that must have been afloat since the flood; a bridle that left him comparatively unbridled and erratic in his ways, and a girth that could never gird his loins up to the scriptural injunction without breaking. He had neither sandals nor shoes to his feet nor speed to his body. You can imagine that our ride of four miles through the pine barrens was not so rapid as John Gilpin's. But the afternoon was like the last of June and full of sunshine and jasmine blossoms and the ground was covered with brown pine needles. I have seen none but the pitch pine here. The needles are often a foot long and now that they are enlivened by steady warmth, they sport graceful plumes against the sky.

But I have made my last visit to St. Helena Island. The fortunes of war uproot too suddenly, for my fancy, all the little fibres of local attachment just as they begin to take kindly to the soil. I have just got everything in good attitude towards my new hospital when all is to be abandoned and we are to pitch our tents (if the rebels permit) in another state. Being exactly what I want, I do not grumble at the fact.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 366

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 24, 1863

February 24, 1863.

Colonel [James] Montgomery's arrival from Key West, with the nucleus of the Second S. C. Vols. is an event of importance to our life here and also to the history of the war. I have heard Col. Higginson declare that he regarded Col. Montgomery alone as equal to one regiment. I have rarely heard our Colonel express deeper confidence in any one. I have already discovered the secret of it. Col. M. occupied my tent, last night, and before I turned in with James, I heard him talk enough to feel sure of his indomitable courage united with that rare verity which belongs only to inborn gentlemen. A compact head on slightly rounded shoulders, a tall form of slender build, dark, bronzed face, deep brown and slightly curling hair, a Roman nose, heavy beard and moustache, a smallish, determined mouth and pointed chin, deep, hazel eyes of destiny, all form a combination of feature and expression belonging to a man who has fought many battles but never surrendered. He once drove fourteen thousand with four hundred. He once ordered five rebel prisoners shot to avenge the death of five of his soldiers who were taken prisoners and shot by the rebels. He would not permit the blasphemy of the oath of allegiance to the remaining ten, but sent them back to their rebel brethren with the information that he could take prisoners and that thereafter he should not be content with life for life, but ten for one if they persisted in their hellish career of atrocity which they had begun. This man seems to me one of the John Brown men of destiny. He is not one of the slow, calculating sort, but being in harmony with the elements around him, he counsels with fleeing events and trusts his intuitions more than his calculations.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 366-7

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 25, 1863

February 25, 1863.

This afternoon our regiment was reviewed by Gen. Saxton in the presence of Gen. Hunter. The staff and body guards of these two Generals made about a hundred horsemen. I quite enjoyed the bugle notes as they gallopped into camp and thought how much more exciting a cavalry regiment must be than infantry. In the course of the battalion drill our boys were ordered to make a charge toward them and I verily believe that if the Col. had not been in front, the order "Halt," would have passed unheeded till the cavalry had scattered over the field.

All this evening I have been squeezing Kansas history out of Col. Montgomery, a history with which he himself is so completely identified that I have really been listening to a wonderful autobiography. Col. M. is a born pioneer. Ashtabula County, Ohio, is his native place. Forty-nine years ago, Joshua R. Giddings and Ben Wade were young men and Montgomery in his boyhood was accustomed to hear their early pleadings at the bar. So you see how birth and early surroundings fitted him for a fiercer frontier life. New England life seems puny beside the lusty life born on the frontier. Of the Colonel's eight children two of his sons are to hold commissions in his regiment. They are young but as “they don't know the meaning of fear,” and hate slavery he is sure they will get on. In medicine he has a weakness for pellets instead of pills. It is humiliating that our two strong colonels should exhibit such weak points. So long as we remain in good health I don't know but this foible of homoeopathy is as harmless as any of the popular vagaries. . . .

Yesterday Mingo Leighton died. Many weeks ago, I saw him step out of the ranks one day when upon the double-quick and discovered that he had slight disease of the heart. He was a noble fellow, black as midnight, who had suffered in the stocks and under the lash of a savage master, and did not accept any offer of discharge papers. Later he realized some of his hopes up the St. Mary's, so that he was very quiet under his fatal congestion of the lungs. He was ill but a few hours and was very calm when he told me on my first visit that his work was finished. He never gave me his history, though he regarded me as his friend, but one of his comrades confirmed my convictions of his worth. This same comrade, John Quincy, a good old man, who for eight years, paid his master twenty dollars per month for his time and eight dollars per month apiece for mules, and boarded himself and animals, this man told me that Mingo was deeply religious, but said little about it, and that he himself had been "trabblin by dis truth sometin' like twenty-five year." I have rarely met a man whose trust in God has seemed to me more immediate and constant.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 367-8

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 26, 1863

February 26.

Our visitors increase and I shall not be sorry when we are beyond the reach of those who “doubt the propriety” of arming the negroes. There is but one convincing argument and I don't care how soon it comes. I am sick of talking to men whose limited capacity renders it necessary for me to explain that humanity lies somewhat deeper than the integument of the human body.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 368

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 28, 1863

February 28.

I keep a blazing fire in my tent about half the time, these hot, humid days, to keep myself from moulding alive. It requires a high pressure of vitality to push off these damps as they crowd in upon me here. Yet I have found only three cases of tubercular disease among our soldiers. Considering the fact that they were recruited without much regard to physical ability, I think this freedom from scrofulous disease remarkable.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 368

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 2, 1863—Evening

March 2, Evening.

John Quincy (Co. G) came and asked me today if I would “send up North” for a pair of spectacles for him, “for common eyes of 60.” The old man said he “could not live long enough to make much account of them,” but that he “could read right smart places in the Testament,” and since he has lost his spectacles he missed it. This is the same soldier who told his congregation on the Ben Deford, after our St. Mary's trip, that he saw the Colonel with his shoulder at the wheel of the big gun in the midst of the firing, and that “when de shell went out it was de scream ob de great Jehovah to de rebels.” What made this statement the more interesting to me was the fact that I was standing in the background with the Colonel at the time, and John Quincy did not know of our presence.

We are now weeding our regiment a little, and today I have examined about a hundred and discharged thirty for disability. I find one poor fellow whose mind is very torpid, though he is not idiotic. A companion of his told me that he had been overworked in the Georgia rice swamps and that “he be chilly minded, not brave and expeditious like me.” I believe I have somewhere written that our men were not subjected to examination by a surgeon before enlisting, hence this disagreeable business of discharging now. It is much easier to keep men out of a regiment than to get them out when once in.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 368-9