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A lady of Clarke County, Virginia, whose husband had been during two years in Yankee prisons, and in exile from his home, and whose son (an only child, in his 18th year) was then in some Northern Bastille, as a prisoner of war, wrote to her husband as follows: “If it were possible, I should like you to be at home; but I do not want you or O, ever to give up the struggle for liberty and our rights. If your salary fails to pay you board, go at something else for the Confederacy; I will try and contrive a way to clothe you. I would love to be with you; but do not expect it now, in these times. I wish O, was at home–I mean in his company; but I would rather he would be held a prisoner for the war, than have him at home dodging his duty, as some do. I am proud to think every man in my little family is in the army. If I have but two, they are at their post of duty.”

Originally posted 2008-08-15 05:02:48.

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Henry W. Camp, Adjutant of the Tenth Connecticut volunteers, was made prisoner by the rebels at Morris Island, off Charleston, in July, 1863. After ten months’ confinement in the jails of Charleston, Columbia, and Richmond, he reached his home in Hartford on the 7th of May, being released on parole. In five days the news reached him of his exchange; and though he had a leave of twenty days, he started at once for his regiment in Butler’s department, above Norfolk, on the James. On reaching Bermuda Hundreds he learned that the Tenth Connecticut had gone to the front, and was then probably engaged with the enemy. Pressing forward as speedily as possible, he met the retreating column of the Eighteenth corps falling back from the attack of Beauregard. They told him that the road by which he could reach his regiment was already in possession of the enemy, and that an attempt to proceed under the circumstances would only throw him again into a rebel prison. Nothing daunted, however, he kept on, and about ten o’clock in the morning reached his regiment just as it was coming out of one brisk skirmish, and was about advancing to another attack.

Within fifteen minutes he was at his place, under fire, and bearing himself gallantly, as always.

His conduct excited the warmest admiration on the part of the regiment. Notwithstanding the engrossing excitement of the battle, officers and men hailed his return with cheer upon cheer in the very face of the enemy, and with the Minie balls flying thickly around them.

Col. Plaisted commanding the brigade, joined in the greeting given to the beloved officer whose conduct was so praiseworthy, and even Gen. Terry, the division commander, swung his hat in the general cheering, and rode forward to welcome in person the returning adjutant to his old command.

How much richer in true honor and pleasure that manly greeting by the regiment in battle line and under fire, than all the flattery and delight that a prolonged furlough in his native city could have afforded him!

Originally posted 2008-08-13 22:28:28.

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At a council of generals early in the war, one remarked that Major —–was wounded, and would not be able to perform a duty that it was proposed to assign him. “Wounded!” said Jackson. “If it really is so, I think it must have been by an accidental discharge of his duty.”

Originally posted 2008-08-12 19:02:57.

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The following incident in the terrible battle at Fredericksburg was related by Col. Morgan: Maj.-Gen. Howard, who commanded the extreme right, ordered a strong line of pickets to be formed, as a line of battle, by Col. Morgan, in command of heavy detachments from five regiments, with the Minnesota First, as usual, on the extreme right and most exposed place. The morning dawned–the rebels opened with shot and shell, ploughing up the ground and covering the line with heaps of earth. It was a very hot place, and three of the regiments broke, and run like sheep. Gens. Howard and Sully (Sully, their old Colonel, whom they loved dearly) were watching them. “There,” said Maj.-Gen. Howard,–“there, they don’t stand fire–see them run.” “Not a bit of it,” says Gen. Sully; “my old Minnesota don’t run.” Gen. Howard fixed his glass on them.

“No–no–no, sir; they–your old regiment don’t flinch a hair–they don’t run.” Sully, raising himself up to his full height, exclaimed, in his soft language, “Who in————ever supposed they would run? They are not of the running breed.” Gen. Howard complimented them as the most reliable, the bravest regiment in the division, if not in the army.

Originally posted 2008-08-11 18:46:06.

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