150 Years Ago (1864 6/2)

Washington, June 2, 1864.

Dearest Abiah,

Here I am yet. Report every morning at 9 o’clock. Have just been up. Shall probably have to remain here for a week longer, perhaps two weeks. They are today examining men that came in on the 19^th of May, but the number grows less every day. I see many persons here that I know. See Henry Newcomb almost every morning. His office is just across the street from where I report. He has been up to the Columbia, Carver and Campbell Hospitals with me. Saw Jacob. His health is first rate. There were many Vermonters in the Carver Hospital, but when I was there did not know it. When I returned, called at Mr. Baxter’s boarding place, and who should I find but Mr. Loring. He was searching for his son. He did not find him until Tuesday. I have not seen him since. Mrs. Baxter told me he could hear that he was badly wounded, saw a man that helped to carry him off the field, dangerously wounded. When I saw him he had given up all hope of ever seeing him again, and wished me to take some of the things that he had brought for him to Henry Campbell. The next time I called, he had found him. He was brought in Saturday last, had been in the wilderness I suppose. He was in a hospital that he had looked through Monday and found henry Campbell.

Henry I have seen. He laid in the wilderness 12 days, ate hard tack and poured cold water on his wound. It is through the knee. He was wounded in the very first fighting, had fired 12 rounds when he came down. The man on his right was killed, on the left mortally wounded, but Henry says that he got three fair shots out of the traitors. There could be no one spared to carry him to the rear. He turned on his back and kicked along with the well leg until he thought he should rest, placed a knapsack under his head. The knapsack received several shots and he thought he would kick himself to a more safe place, went to take a drink of water, and a ball knocked his canteen out of his hands. He then went to kicking again. Another line of battle coming up they took him and carried him back. He was by this means separated from all his comrades and remained in the Wilderness. He is getting along pretty well, thinks that he will have a stiff leg. Richard Gray is in the same hospital. He is about well. Has but a short time to serve. He will have to see the regiment again he thinks. Saw many other Vermont men there. They all represent the fight in the wilderness as awful. It was not the Union troops alone that fell. The rebels fell by thousands whichever charged were cut down, but few escaped. Many received several wounds. It was owing to the balls striking the trees, but all have good courage. The wounded are impatient to get back. All that it is proper for them to go home are getting furloughs to go home. You know that I never thought much of Emery Clough. Well, I hold him in the highest estimation. He could get a furlough to go home, but he will not take it. He is anxious to get to the front again. He fought like a tiger. Henry told the whole story about all the boys, but I shall not tell all that he told me, and told him never to tell it again. That was an awful place that those men stood in. greater bravery was never displayed than right there in that wilderness. One company in the 5^th Vermont had but 13 men left, and not a man but what stood fair up. That company had received 18 new recruits and but one was left of the 18. They just stood and were shot down until they were relieved. That takes nerve. Well, I was not there. It is quite likely that I should have been in a hospital now if I had been. More than half of the old Brigade are inmates of Hospitals, but still I cannot feel a sense of satisfaction that I was not there. I would mention all about the boys that I hear, but I suppose you hear it all, but poor Capt. Buck he ought not to have died. He was bravery itself. Mr. Loring’s son is in bad condition. I tried to see him this morning (Mr. Loring) but could not find him. Dr. Bowker is in the Carver Hospital.

I am so far from you that I do not send any papers, as I suppose that you get the news. Sherman is down in a country that I well know, Pumpkin Vine, and Powder Springs are as familiar to me as East Charleston. I hope the rebels are on the hip. Grant was intending to flank Lee in the first move, but Lee anticipated, and the battle of the wilderness was the result. Lee had again intrenched on the North Anna, but Grant slipped him there, and he has had to leave the entrenchment and has derived no benefit from them. There is no discount but what Lee and Grant are both good generals, but Richmond must come down. The papers speak as if Lee was in Richmond. Hope he is. If he is, he is a gone goose. Don’t you hope Grant will get into Richmond before I get to the Regiment? I should like to be there but I do not care how quick it is done. I am at the Sanitary Home. Have heard nothing from you yet. You may direct to me here, as there are those that will remain after I leave that will forward my letters. My health is first rate. The weather here is very hot, or has been, today is cool, thermometer at 100 yesterday in the sun, that was warm enough for me. I shal write to you as soon as I receive my examination and tell you whether I pass or fail. There are many that fail. If I pass, it will be something sometime before I get my commission. There are now 30 Captains ahead and any quantity of Lieutenants, and the recruiting goes on very slowly. Hope it will soon be better, but every energy is directed to Richmond and Atlanta. Well that is right, push the ball. Hope Grant will give us a chance to celebrate the fall of Richmond as well as the 4^th of July.

I had a letter from father and mother a few days since. Hope some of the good people of Charleston will remember Mr. Loring. His expenses must have been heavy since he has been here. I don’t know how it will be now. Perhaps, he can get along cheaper, but he told me the last time I saw him that he must go home. It was hard to go without finding his son. I wish that I could tell you how he was. James Wilson died at Fredericksburg. They all say that they thinkg that he would have lived if he had been determined to do so, but that will not always do, if it would I would never die. I say nothing about coming home. It is no use to talk of it at present. I would not ask for a furlough now if I could get it, but I hope the time will soon come when we can all go marching home. That is a time that looks bright in my eye, so good bye.

Charles.