Chenango Union, Norwich, NY, January 20, 1864
U.S. Marine Hospital, New Orleans, January 1, 1864
On Monday morning last, Charles Turner, private of Company C, 114th N.Y., paid the death penalty for desertion, in being shot, near the Vicksburg Cotton Press of this city.
I was aware that he had been tried and had received his death sentence, but understood it was to be put in execution in the division to which he belonged, now at the front or near New Iberia, some time this month.
During the day of Monday it was rumored in the Hospital that a soldier of the 114th had been shot for desertion, but unable to learn the truth, I could not credit the report till I read in the Times and Era of the following morning the account which I herewith enclose. Had I known that he had been transferred to this city, some days before, and was so soon to meet his fate, most gladly should I have availed myself of the privilege of visiting him in his cell, and bestowing all the comfort, encouragement and consolation in my power.
Such an occurrence at any time or place, or under any circumstances, is a melancholy event' but when the unfortunate victim is one of our own number, it is bringing the matter very near to our own doors. The verdict of death passed upon him by the Court, and approved by the commanding General, at least a month ago, he firmly avowed he was entirely ignorant of till the morning before it was to be executed. To me, this, if it be true, and I am without evidence at present to the contrary, seems very strange; for I hold upon every principle of right, of justice, and religion, both as concerns the affairs of this world and the world to come, that when an offender is sentenced or doomed to die, whether by a civil or military tribunal, he should immediately know the worst, and have time and space given to prepare for it.
The terrible shock at the intelligence, and the condition of his mind, can better be conceived than described. During the day he made written application to the Commanding General, which was taken by the Provost marshal in person, for a respite, reprieve, or commutation of the sentence.
The General, who, I believe, is a kind-hearted man, as well as a brave and gallant commander, replied that he had carefully considered the matter, and he could not change the result. Having received the reply, and finding that his last and only hope was gone, he immediately set himself to work to prepare for the awful change. He desired Christian sympathy and consolation, a spiritual adviser, when Rev. C. B Thomas, Chaplain of the University and St. James Hospitals (a classmate of our townsman and minister, Rev. Mr. Scoville) was soon provided.
With Chaplain Thomas I have the pleasure of an acquaintance, and am happy to know and state that the doomed man had the ministrations and counsels of so faithful a minister in his last trying hours. He visited him in the evening, talked with him and prayed with him, remaining some three or four hours. Early in the morning he visited him again, fervently commending him in prayer and conversation to the goodness and mercy of the Savior, remaining with him till he was taken from his prison, and then rode with him upon his coffin to the place of execution, still keeping by his side till within a moment or two of the time the fatal bullets sent him to his God.
The soldiers detailed to execute the terrible sentence were ten in number, each man furnished with arms, eight of which were fully and properly loaded. The unfortunate man was placed standing to face, ten paces in front, in his ordinary dress, his eyes uncovered and his hands unpinioned, and must both have heard the command and seen its execution, make ready" "take aim" and with the deadly weapons pointed at his breast, heard the terribly fatal word--FIRE!
At one time, while standing upon the canvass, the Chaplain thought he trembled and faltered somewhat, and turned a little pale, but a few words of encouragement brought him right again, and he died like a hero, while there is reason to hope and believe he died a real Christian, a true penitent as well. And I am happy to be able to correct the statement which appeared in the Times, that he "exhibited his horror and fear in a manner quite overcoming, previous to his leaving the prison," and also that he was "A Catholic in religion," all of which is untrue.
To the Chaplain he several times expressed himself on the way to his execution, as feeling perfectly happy, in the immediate prospect of death, and his utmost confidence that his sins had been pardoned, and that as regarded his future, all was well. He related to him everything concerning himself, his family, and matters of business, even to the minutest detail, giving explicit directions how he wanted this and that disposed of, this thing and the other done. He expressed the bitter sorrow of his heart and his deep sympathy for his dear wife and child in their sore affliction, saying that he wished his little boy might be brought up to lead a good life, that he might have a happy end. he spoke likewise freely and kindly of his half brothers and others, also of Col. Frink, and said if they knew or had known of his fate, they would have done all in their power to have obtained his reprieve. He appeared to blame no one, confessed he had done wrong and was sorry for it, but said he had not committed murder or stolen, and he thought the "articles of war" too severe.
While it is unpleasant to think that the odium attached to so flagrant a crime should fall upon one of our own men, and be reflected back to "old Chenango," which has sent forth so many of her brave and patriotic sons, there is some mitigation in the thought that the untimely end of this unfortunate man will prove a salutary lesson, and that he had done, perhaps more for his country in his death than he could have done by his life. In expressing my own sympathy, I express I am confident the deep sympathy of the entire regiment, and of the public, for the severely stricken family of the deceased.
A generous and confiding community, I am sure, will promptly and amply provide, if need be, for all their temporal wants, while Christian words of comfort and good cheer will soothe the otherwise inconsolable sorrows and loneliness of the widow's heart; and the gentle teachings of some pious friend and the "still small voice" of a higher than parental love, lead the little one, the child of orphanage, in the path of rectitude, in the ways for virtue, whose "ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace."
Having said thus much - too much perhaps for publicity, of which you must be the judge - more at least than I at first intended, I drop the unpleasant subject. And I do so the more willingly as Chaplain Thomas has written a long litter to his wife containing, doubtless, a fuller account, more fittingly expressed, than I can possibly communicate, and which letter, I understand is proper for the public.
Should I say more under the circumstances, in these times of straightened thought, when men's tongues and pens are tied in the emergency of our National calamity, I might say too much; and especially, opposed as I am to "capital punishment," unless it might say too much; unless it might be in case of well proven, deliberate, and willful MURDER! If God spared the life of Cain for the blood of his brother Abel, the law makers and the executioners of the law, would do well to ponder and take heed!
Well, this is New Year's day, and I wish you and all my friends a "Happy New Year;" hoping that the new may savor less of blood, and war, and carnage, and desolation, than the old, which has been added to the cycles of the past, tinging with its crimson current the stream of time. Of pain and anguish of desolated homes, of sorrow and death, what, "old year," has been thy record? Of great joy and comfort to all afflicted people, what have been thy tidings? Departed year; year of mixed good and evil; year of sanguinary strife, of disappointed hopes, of wrecked happiness in many lands. We sigh not, we sorrow not that thy record is closed and thy race is run, but we shall never forget thee, painful as the remembrance will ever be, because the sad events that occurred in our own dear land during thy existence!
A "New Year" Whatever of hopes or fears, of joyous anticipations or evil forebodings may be awakened by thy advent, we gladly turn from the bitter recollections of the past, to hail thy appearance and joyfully greet thy coming! As in the midst of civil war and strife we entered upon the last, so enter we upon this, while it is the fervent prayer of every patriot's heart, that as Victory [appears] upon our banner the swelling acclaim of "Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable," may be raised from one end of the land to the other, and from all tongues, and before the end is nearly reached, a joyous and substantial peace, a peace founded upon the triumph of justice and right, be obtained.
This morning was a "nipper", the thermometer at 22 degrees, or 10 degrees below freezing, yesterday morning it stood at 66 degrees. Quite a "change in the weather." So you see that even in the more "congenial clime" of the sunny South the poet's words prove true: "On frosty wings the demon fled, / Howling as o'er the wall he sped. / Another year is gone!"
A rousing fire is very comfortable, and overcoats, mittens and mufflers indispensable just now, when facing the bleak winds of the North.
With today the holidays are over, which in this city, proverbial for its gayety and hospitality are usually regarded with more than ordinary observance. Spent Christmas mostly in the Hospital, discussing among other things, with the officers of the Institution and a few invited guests, a Christmas dinner worthy of Yankee land. The bill of fare, of course, was complete. The soldiers likewise had extra rations and a little good old cider from the north, which made their eyes snap. It doubtless carried them back to the long winter evenings of "cider and apples" to the rolicsome times of snowballing, skating and "sliding down hill."
Passed today much the same as "Merry Christmas." Made a few "New Year's calls" with a friend, but the popping of corks and the flow of sparkling champagne, with such a variety of eatables and drinkables, was too much for my weak stomach, and we were obliged soon to retire.
Surgeon, Harrison Beecher
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