“Shell fragment” is a phrase you see in books about
Civil War battles. For years when I read it, I thought of a sliver of metal that by dark chance
caused a mortal wound. Then I visited Grace Forest’s house.
Forest was one of many people who invited me to use family papers when I was working on Our
War. Her Civil War ancestor had been
named after a president (a custom then, now, not so much). His father, a
Pembroke, N.H., farmer, was John Quincy Adams Gordon. J.Q.A. named the first of his 11 children George
Washington Gordon.
For a century and a half George W. Gordon’s descendants have preserved his wartime letters to his wife Angeline. They have also kept many of his things, including
a shell fragment he brought or sent home from the front. When
Grace Forest showed it to me, my mental image of a sliver of metal faded away. This piece of steel weighed a good 10 pounds.
Fragment indeed!
Years ago Forest lent the Gordon letters to the local school, where
a teacher or students transcribed them and shared them in class. It is a
wonderful collection. It recounts Gordon’s battle experiences and strong opinions and touches on Angeline’s
character. Her letters are gone, but his references to them give a
picture of both their love and her struggles running the household in Suncook.
I used the letters in several chapters of Our
War.
Capt. George Washington Gordon faced battle with resolve and did all he could to protect the reputation of his regiment, the 2nd New Hampshire Volunteers. |
Gordon volunteered a week after the attack on Fort Sumter
and entered the 2nd New Hampshire Volunteers as a sergeant major in May 1861. He was 27
years old. He and Angeline had two children, 6-year old Willietta, called
Etta, and 3-year-old George.
In time Gordon rose to captain. His regiment was
one of the most active in the Army of the Potomac, fighting at Bull Run, on the
Peninsula, at Bull Run again, at Gettysburg, in Grant’s 1864 campaign and on to
the end of the war.
Gordon was wounded at Second Bull Run and again at
Gettysburg, where the 2nd New Hampshire was overwhelmed in the southwest corner
of the Peach Orchard on the second day.
He had decided to leave the army and go
home when his three-year term ended, but just before that date arrived, he was
killed at Cold Harbor.
Here are excerpts from his letters home, beginning on the
Peninsula:
April 26, 1862, from Yorktown, Va.: “We are making
preparations for a big fight here sometime but it does not seem to me as if it
would be very soon except politicians make us fight before we get ready. If
they do perhaps the consequences may not be so agreeable as they might
otherwise. We have lots of cannonading going on all the time and skirmishes
most every day and a few get killed and wounded but we have not been in any
yet.”
May 13, 1862, from Williamsburg, Va.: “Our brigade is here
doing guard duty for the city and I guess we will stop for a while and not see
the horrors of the battlefield again which I can assure you is one of the worst
sights man ever saw when he stops to contemplate so many so young and fair lay
cold and senseless upon the cold earth awaiting some friendly hand to bury. As
soon as the night after the battle, men went around and covered the faces of
the dead from the gaze of curiosity, but it was four days before the dead were
all buried and the smell had got to be fetid from the heat.”
June 16, 1862, from Fair Oaks, Va.: “It almost deprives a
man of all humanity to follow the fortunes of war. Here on the battleground
where we are encamped there were shot and died more than two thousand. Most of
them are buried on the field and so many it is impossible to bury them decent.
In passing around you will see positions of bodies out of the ground perhaps a
foot or hand in some places animals have dug bodies quite out of the ground.”
June 24, 1862, from Fair Oaks: “I would not live in this
miserable country about here full of disease of all kinds – mud reptiles to say
nothing of Negroes and copper colored inhabitants as ignorant [as] . . . a
parcel of hogs. The educated portion are smart and are ambitious.”
July 7, 1862, from Harrison’s Landing, Va. (after the Seven
Days battles): “Two weeks ago today we commenced a pickett skirmish and for ten
days I was where men were getting killed and wounded every day. The amount of
men killed I dare not guess at but it is enormous and beggars description. But
we whipped the rebels in every engagement and the army now lies on the banks of
the James all quiet and resting from three days and nights fighting without
rest or sleep. . . . I guess a few such fights will exterminate the whole rebel
army and our own.
“I am unscathed and
unhurt as yet.”
July 10, 1862, from Harrison’s Landing: “Our position is
perfectly secure here and we rest in peace and quietness. . . . Our Reg. did
not lose more than about a hundred and most of them are prisoners of war and
most of them are sick and wounded. It was bad to leave them there in the hands
of the rebels after we had driven them miles at the point of the bayonet most
of the way and then turn around and leave prisoners. . . .
“Well I have seen
about as much fighting as I want to although I expect to see more before this
thing is settled. . . . It has to be done and I mean to see the end.”
July 19, 1862, from Harrison’s Landing: “Well I do wish this
unholy war was finished for it seems to me it is taking too many lives of our
young men both north and south. Before the fights of the seven days we had a
large army here but I have seen many fall prey to disease and bullet and many
more will do the same ere this will close under present management.
“The [army] is not fighting enough and too much digging.
More men have died by diseases contracted from exposures than have been killed
in battle by long odds. We are sick of shoveling and chopping and such works. .
. .
“I am about played out in finding fault with folks except I
take the Chaplain and Surgeon and if I commence on them this sheet is not half
large enough for me to express myself for I do believe they steal! And steal
articles sent to sick soldiers by the various organizations at home to save the
expense of feeding themselves and they can get things that way that cannot be
bought here. And it is not only my beliefs but such is the prevailing opinion
of most of the Regt.”
Aug. 26, 1862, in the field near Warrenton Junction, Va.: “The
Peninsula campaign was a bad move. So history will say and so I deemed it when
it commenced and no I cannot help thinking but what with proper energy with the
new levies we can soon settle this matter from the present base of operations.”
“[On the march across the Peninsula] we halted for a night
about twenty miles from Williamsburg (west). The owner of a nice field of corn
of about a hundred acres went to Gen Hooker and wanted a guard to protect it.
The Gen replied, ‘Yes you shall have seven hundred and twenty in just fifteen
minutes,’ and he did not set it too large, for in the morning he did not have
an ear large enough to cook in all his place. Every thing eatible has to suffer
in about the same manner. The boys call it foraging and they do it in splendid
style. . . . Nothing exists but what they can turn to some count in one way or
another, but the bread basket is the first consideration.”
Sept 5, 1862, from Columbia Hospital, Washington, D.C.
(after his wound at Second Bull Run): “Everything I had was burned at Warrenton
Junction so I shall have to commence new and it will cost considerable for a
full outfit. Did not have even a shirt left.”
Sept. 8, 1862, from Columbia Hospital: “What is to be the
result of this war is more than I am able to conjure but it seems a land of
mourning.
“When I stop and look at the inmates of these various
hospitals and think of the thousands that have already been killed in this
unholy rebellion it most turns my head. But for all that the war must be
prosecuted with all vigor although every home in the nation shall be made
desolate for it is desolation unless we do conquer and worse for it would be
slavery and nothing more.”
Oct 4, 1862 [back with the regiment]: “Well our name has
gone abroad as being a good fighting Regt. and we shall endeavor to maintain it
so long as one spark of vitality courses through veins of the sons of N.H.
composing the old 2nd of which we feel so proud to be numbered with.
. . .
“The men are enjoying
themselves very well, the only bane being intoxicating drink which has abounded
pretty extensively since the men got four months pay. There was not much money
sent home as the men thought it had been so long since they had had any money
or had been where anything could be procured except government rations, the ‘go
in.’ ”
Oct. 26, 1862, near Alexandria, Va.: “Last night I got
two bottles of whiskey and Joe Hubbard and myself have been making hot whiskey
toddey enough to ‘forget our poverty and remember misery no more.’ ”
Nov. 15, 1862, from Centreville, Va.: “As to getting drunk there is very little of
it for when it is done the parties are usually tried by Court Martial and
dismissed [from] the service and those are published and the party so dismissed
is forever disgraced – no enviable sentence. I have seen less drunkness amongst
the army than ever before among so many. One good reason is because they cannot
get the stimulant to get drunk on. I have seen a man pay five dollars for a
canteen full of whiskey which is about three pints.”
Dec. 8, 1862, from Falmouth, Va.: “And now we know all due
preparations are being made for a fight and on a large scale. The wind blows
cold and it is a cheerless night and those that are enjoying pleasant homes can
well say you must go and fight this out, a winter campaign is necessary and all
this, but let them stop for a moment and consider the amount of lives it will
cost, the amount of suffering it will cause, the privations to be endured, and
perhaps they might pause. But to pause is impossible.
“A gloom is cast around me tonight which is seldom the case,
but I cannot help it for here I see my men suffer, some with silent fortitude,
some with curses long and deep, but unanimous in enduring it if it will but
finish this job satisfactorily. But the end is not yet. Many more will have to
suffer.”
Dec. 31, 1862, from Camp of 2nd [17 days after the battle of Fredericksburg, for which the 2nd was present but hardly involved]: “Most
of the soldiers have got the blues and badly too . . . . The future is one dark
subject for contemplation and it does seem as if the man for the occasion has
not wielded yet the power to carry this trouble to the proper place. I fear
unless someone does soon come forth from obscurity, it will be too late to ever
attempt to re-establish our old nation as it was or even the shadow of it.”
Jan. 17, 1863: “It does seem a little singular just how
things go. With so large an army as we have now we ought to be able to have
victories declared every day instead of so many reverses as we have had to
acknowledge within the last six months.”
Jan. 24, 1863 [after Gen Ambrose Burnside’s mud march]: “Well
we went forth to do battle but the great Gen. of all sent a storm to intervene
and thus the move stands by all returning to their former camps all in good
health. So now we look to see Gen. Burnsides consigned to oblivion and some new
man tried. It is most too bad but Generals cannot control the elements although
the people will talk as if he were to blame for the storm coming just at that
time. God help the Generals.”
July 4, 1863, from Littleton, Pa. [after Gettysburg]: “I am
slightly wounded in three places in my arm neck and side. Am about ten miles
from the battlefield at a hotel. . . . My wounds are not dangerous although
quite painful.”
July 9, 1863, from Arlington House, Washington, D.C.: “We
have had a succession of brilliant victories which will tend to make the rebels
look blue. I guess before Lee gets any assistance he will wish he had staid in
Virginia and not visited Pa. at all, although the stories in the papers are all
to bright by half. There is more fighting to be done and hard fighting too and
many lives will be lost.”
July 14, 1863, near Hagerstown, Md.: “We lost in the battle
of Gettysburg 193 killed wounded and missing. Capts. Hubbard and Metcalf are
killed and 20 more officers out of 24 that went into the fight are wounded.
Lieut. Vickery was wounded and is missing and I fear he is gone for good.
Stephen Palmer is wounded in the leg or ankle rather and in the arm and I fear
he will lose his foot but is in good spirits.”
[The regiment came to Gettysburg 354
officers and men strong. Gordon’s casualty number is correct. It included 47 killed or
mortally wounded. The story of the 2nd New Hampshire at Gettysburg is told in Our War, but here is another good account of its fight in the Peach Orchard. The soldiers Gordon mentions are all original members of the regiment. Captains
Joseph A. Hubbard of Manchester and Henry Metcalf of Keene, both 20 years old,
were killed outright on July 2. Lt. Charles Vickery of Manchester, 22, died of
his wounds on July 11. Private Stephen H. Palmer of Manchester, 34, lingered
until Aug. 14, when he also died. At the start of the war, all but Metcalf had
been members of Co. I, of which Gordon was captain at Gettysburg.]
July 19, 1863: “We are getting good news from the armies and
it does look as if we could see the beginning of the end. The sooner we shall
have one more big fight and if victorious as before, the war will be virtually
finished. . . . I have eleven guns in my Co. now so you can imagine how many we
have lost.”
Nov. 14, 1863, from Point Lookout, Md. [the 2nd had been
transferred here to work as guards at a camp for Confederate prisoners of war.
He is commenting on the substitutes who filled the ranks of depleted Union
regiments after Gettysburg]: “The 5th N.H. arrived here last night and went
into camp up above the rebels camp with their conscripts and such a set, d-----d
them. Oh! If I had a company of those fellows I would want to kill some of the
devils. I suspect that we will be filled up with such skulch on this new call.
If we are, God help them. . . .
“It has got to be night and with darkness comes the rain and
with the storm come feelings of loneliness. Oh! that I was was with you tonight
all would be bliss. It does seem sometimes as if I would surrender my standing,
honor and everything else for the sake of being with my beloved wife and
family, but I have gone forth to do my country service in battle and I did not
act until I had well considered the deprivations connected with such service
and I abide the issue come what will, come what may. . . .
“If you could be with me, all could be sunshine. . . . Now I
do not believe I am licentious minded . . . except with you and that is not
criminal, I believe. What do you think? If I was at home, you would not object
to sleeping with me, would you? Or
would you rather sleep awake? I guess you would.”
Dec. 2, 1863, from Point Lookout: “I have got a lot of
recruits – 20 – and such devils. We have lost the name of N.H. now certain for
not one of them were born in N.H. most all from Europe Irish (Ireland) Dutch
Sweden Hollanders French Swiss and everything imaginable. Well I shall make
them soldiers or give them a ticket for somewhere but not heaven, I know.”
April 14, 1864, from
Yorktown, Va. [Gordon had been on court-martial duty and sentenced deserters to
death, but the execution had been postponed]: “We marched back to camp blue as
whetstones and not a little mad for such measures are necessary to keep men
with the commands to which the belong. It is rather hard but fair.”
April 30, 1864, from Yorktown [after the execution of two
deserters]: “We are getting a pretty hard name for a court. Well we have got
four of them shot and more are deserving of being shot if I am judge.”
May 27, 1864, near Bermuda Hundred, Va.: “If we should
happen to go to Grants army we shall see some fighting to what we have in this
campaign so far. It is not what we have been used to and I have a liking for
this Dept. I am not fond of the hard fighting we have had [even] if promotions
do come a little more often because I do want to come out of this war now. I
have gone so far and get honorable scores enough and now I can go home and live
contented in relating the adventures of camp life while in the army.”
May 30, 1864, from Pamunkey River, Va. [preparing to march to
Grant’s army]: “All are well as usual and the old men [original enlistees] are
expecting to go home in four or five days. Give my respect to all the folks and
love to you and babies and Kiss them for me.”
---
Three days later at Cold Harbor, a bullet split the top of Gordon’s skull and killed him. More than five months later, Angeline was still
trying to have his body returned home. H.B. Fowler, the surgeon in charge of the
hospital at Point of Rocks, Va., wrote her on Nov. 15, 1864: “I am sorry to say
that the remains of your dear husband and my brother cannot possibly be got at
the present time.”
You put everything else BUT when he was born. When he got married, his children's names, just not when he was born.
ReplyDelete1834
DeleteWhy did you end the research like that?
ReplyDeleteI ended this blogpost with his death, which seemed appropriate to me.
DeleteDid you find and or have anymore information on Cold Harbor?
ReplyDeleteThis blog post represents only a fraction of the papers Capt. Gordon left behind. In my book there is a good deal more about Gordon's fortunes. The footnotes contain references to more about his and his regiment's experience at Cold Harbor and elsewhere. The 2nd NH was one of the state's storied regiments during the war.
Delete