Headquarters Stevens's Div.
9th Army Corps,
Fredericksburg, Aug. 19th, 1862.
My dearest Mother:
Here we are, occupying a fine house in the pleasant town of
Fredericksburg, with the thermometer standing ever so high in the shade among a
people whose glances are at zero in the hottest of this summer sunshine. I have
seen nothing like this before, except in the single City of Venice where the
feeling is so intense toward the German soldiery. Yet it is not strange when
one thinks that there are few left beside women. The men are away fighting in
the pride of sons of the Old Dominion, and many a family here is clad in sombre
colors, for the loss of dear friends who have lost their lives at the hands of “Yankee
Invaders.” So a military occupation of a disaffected town is less pleasant than
the tented field. We will not remain a great while though. We are now on the
eve of great events. God only knows what the morrow has in store for us. I
cannot say where I may be when I next write, but continue to direct to Stevens'
Division, 9th Army Corps, and the letters will reach me. I am sick at heart in
some respects, and utterly weary of the miserable cant and whining of our
Northern press. It is time that we assumed a manlier tone. We have heard enough
of rebel atrocities, masked batteries, guerillas, and other lying humbugs.
Pope's orders are the last unabatable nuisance. Are we alone virtuous, and the
enemy demons? Let us look at these highly praised orders of Pope which are to
strike a death-blow at rebellion. We are henceforth to live on the enemy's
country, and to this as a stern military necessity, I say “Amen!” But mother,
do you know what the much applauded practice means? It means to take the little
ewe-lamb — the only property of the laborer — it means to force from the widow
the cow which is her only source of sustenance. It means that the poor, and the
weak, and the helpless are at the mercy of the strong — and God help them! This
I say is bad enough, but when papers like the ——, with devilish pertinacity,
talk of ill-judged lenity to rebels and call for vigorous measures, it makes
every feeling revolt. We want vigorous measures badly enough to save us in
these evil times, but not the measures the urges. The last thing needed in our
army is the relaxing of the bands of discipline. And yet our Press is urging
our soldiers everywhere to help themselves to rebel property, and instead of
making our army a glorious means of maintaining liberty, would dissolve it into
a wretched band of marauders, murderers, and thieves. If property is to be
taken, let the Government take it. That is well — but I would have the
man shot who would without authority steal so much as a fence rail,
though it were to make the fire to cook his food. I would have no Blenkers and
Sigels with their thieving hordes, but a great invincible army like Cromwell's,
trusting in God and marching on to victory.
Well, Mother, it is late. I am thankful we are under a
commander who is a noble, high-minded, chivalrous man. Honor to Burnside! He is
as generous as he is brave! Honor to my own dear commander too, who has a heart
to pity as well as the nerve to strike.
Kisses and love in liberal doses, prescribed in liberal
doses to his absent loving friends,
By your most Affec.
Dr. Lusk.
SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters
of William Thompson Lusk, p. 176-8
