Chenango Telegraph, Norwich, NY, August 12, 1863
We are permitted to make the following extract from a private letter written by a member of the Chenango regiment. It breathes the pure spirit of patriotism and indicates the sentiments of "our boys" on the prosecution of the war. The letter was written during the siege of Port Hudson and show the estimation in which Copperheads are held by patriotic soldiers.
"I am not ashamed to belong to the 114th. They are true as steel. Our regiment has 480 men fit for duty. I have just been relieved at the rifle pits. We have a breastwork clear round the Rebs and cannon planted. The negroes have made several charges. They are terrible to fight. They charged seven times in succession. The Rebs hang everyone they catch of them and the negroes don't wait for the gallows but put the bayonet into them. They are just the boys to fight the Rebs. They will not have any paroled prisoners to fight over the second time.
We have been attacked in the rear by a Guerilla band. Our boys have been chasing them, but without success. They are like the bands of Copperheads north who are continually attacking us in the rear. They are hated worse than the enemy in front. I hope the time will soon come when they will be hunted like the bands of the South and shot down at sight.
You wished to know what the soldiers' feelings was about this. They are in favor of military law over the north that will make them loyal by force as Jeff Davis does in order to control his minions in rebeldom. We hope there will be a draft, and they will bring some of the Copperheads down here with us. We understand they are to fill up the old regiments. There is more men needed, and we feel that our breasts have been a bulwark for such men about long enough. Had it but been for the brave volunteers, our homes would have seen such sights as we see here. We are ready to endure the hardships to sustain the Union, for without this we are ruined forever. We desire peace on no other terms than an unconditional submission to the United States. The Chenango Union is taken by three of the Company. They swear and curse the editor and say he ought to be hung. The brave boys that are facing death and bearing wounds under a scorching sun to ward off the blows aimed at their homes hate such men worse than the armed foe in front. C.C."
Chenango Telegraph, Norwich, NY, September 16, 1863
Headquarters 114th Reg. Brashear City, La. Saturday, Aug. 12, 1863
Editors Telegraph: What has become of that valorous "Bumble Bee" that used to hum such patriotic tunes and buzz such noble sentiments of patriotism and sing of such great deeds of heroism that he and the 114th through him would do when the enemy were met face to face in the battle struggles. Why is it that the valorous deeds and mysterious movements of "Chenango's Pride" are no longer chronicled in the Telegraph by "One of the Bumble Bees?" Has the "Bee" found a larger scope for his "literary ability," or has he become disgusted with the way the rebs received him at Beeland and retired from the more active and dangerous portions of the field and folded his wings and hid his sting in some obscure retreat? To tell the truth, Mr. Editors, the little Bumble Bees that are thus so cruelly deserted are anxious, considerably anxious about that great Father of Bees that promised to lead them to battle and to victory. Where is he? Oh, where?
At Bisland it was noted among the Bees that the Bee had his wings clipped. Some said it was a rebel bullet. Others contended that it was a piece of bark chipped from a stump by a passing ball, that wounded him and a third guessed he only hit it against a cane stalk as he lay in the brake and then that cruel doctor that could not fix the wound, threw out such dreadful hints against that honored Bee that our hearts are sad and ache with pain. If you had seen him at Bisland and heard him buzz you never would believe the doctor, no sir, never. And when he was hit, he buzzed a sentiment that will always be remembered by the bees as the saying of their greatest hero. "I have received Uncle Sam's badge of the Legion of Honor" and away he went, his fainting form supported by two lesser Bees.
And more than all, we miss those letters in the Telegraph that so faithfully chronicled our movements. they were well written and who now can take up the pen and perform the duty so well done by our Bee. No one, there is not a Bee in the whole swarm that can wield a pen so readily as he, not one. Who then shall write to The Telegraph, the Bees ask, and echo answers "who." And it is decided among them that The Telegraph will have to send a special Bee down here to furnish it with news, for none of them dare to take up the quill so powerfully wielded by that great minded, but [-unreadable-].
Permit me Mr. Editors to state that, since the fatal 14th of June, our regiment has witnessed the fall of Port Hudson and rejoiced with the victors and feel honored that we have been permitted to cooperate with other brave troops in this department in bringing this stronghold of treason at our feet. You have already read vivid descriptions of scenes and incidents that transpired during the siege, and I will not attempt that which I may make tedious to your readers. After the surrender, our stay within the works was short and our brigade, as has always been the case since it was formed when anything was to be done, was pushed forward to Leonardville, where a force of rebs had collected. Here, after a day's contest with the traitors, we bivouacked until the -th(?) of July, when we were ordered into summer quarters at Thibodeaux La. about 65 miles west of New Orleans. Our old tents having been gobbled up by the rebs when they retook Brashear City, we had a new equipment furnished us and by raising them up from the ground and building bunks to sleep on, we had arranged a very pleasant habitation, which we hoped to occupy for a few months. But how little can we depend upon a day's quiet in military life. We had just got nicely settled, when, to our infinite disgust, we were ordered to Brashear, that dismal, damp devilish mosquito hole, where a man cannot sit one moment of time, even in broad daylight, without thrashing about like one demented, and at night - it is terrible to think of. Woe to him that is out after the shades of evening begin to fall. Everyone must seek the shelter of his Mosquito Net or else bear the torture of these hellish little hectors.
But "bear yourselves in patience" is our motto, for already a rumor is among us that we are going to be moved to a healthier and better region, where mosquitoes and miasmas do not come in the air so thick that you have to beat them off with clubs. Baton Rouge is a pleasant town, high upon bluffs which render it a very healthy and desirable location for troops.
I had almost forgotten to tell you that you can expect Capt. Bockee in your town in a few days perhaps before this reaches you. He is detailed as one of the officers from the 114th regiment to visit the north for the purpose of escorting the drafted men to fill up our thinned ranks. Capt. Knowlton of Co. F and Lieut. Schermerhorn of Co. I are the other officers detailed from our regiment. They will all visit Chenango if permission is given them after arriving at their destination, which will depend upon the amount of drafted men in the market.
Respectfully, LOTT
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