This blog has been quiet as of late, largely because I’ve been blogging elsewhere. Since August 2020, along with three other scholars, I’ve been serving as a guest blogger on H-CivWar. In fact, by the time you read these lines, I will just have posted “Is Thomas Livermore Trustworthy?: A Story about Memory, Memoirs, and the Civil War” on H-CivWar. You can see that post here.
Of course, in addition to guest blogging elsewhere, I had to deal with the pandemic which made the job of teachers everywhere much more complicated and time consuming. But nobody wants to hear about that. In any event, I have not forgotten my obligations to this blog, which is why I’m posting today.
Over the last week, I’ve been performing a close reading of William Child’s missives which appear in Letters from a Civil War Surgeon.[i] Child (1834-1918) was mustered into the 5th New Hampshire as the second assistant surgeon and eventually became the regiment’s surgeon in October 1864. Born and raised in Bath, NH, Child obtained a medical degree from Dartmouth College in 1857 and returned to Bath to set up his practice. He joined the 5th New Hampshire in August 1862, shortly before the regiment evacuated the peninsula, and he remained with the unit until he was mustered out in June 1865. After the war, he returned to Bath where he practiced medicine for many years and became something of a local worthy.
Those who know something about the 5th New Hampshire will recognize Child as the author of the regiment’s “official” history, A History of the Fifth Regiment, New Hampshire Volunteers in the American Civil War 1861-1865 (1893). The more I think about it, the more I feel that Child was an unusual choice for this task, but that’s a topic for another post.
William Child while he was still an assistant surgeon with the rank of 1st Lieutenant (ca. 1862-1864).
The picture of Child that emerges from his letters is not always flattering. He appears to have been something of a neurotic character—sensitive, self-absorbed, needy, fussy, and mercurial. It is wise to remember, however, that he meant his letters for his wife, Carrie (née Lang). In all likelihood, none of us would show our best selves to our spouses as we bared our souls. Yet Child himself seemed to realize that he was something of an odd duck and often referred to his strong passions, independence, and peevishness. Having just read Thomas Livermore’s memoir, I can’t help but think that he and Child would not have gotten on very well.
Child returned to a number of topics repeatedly. He declared his love for Carrie incessantly and hectored her to write back to him. He spent a great deal of time analyzing their relationship and expressed a desire to become a better person. He invariably discussed family finances, speculated about his chances of promotion, and listed what he ate. He described battles he witnessed, marches he undertook, and incidents of camp life. And occasionally, he articulated his political views.
When I ran across the letter below, I just had to share it. Prompted by something “John” did (more about that anon), Child revealed something of the political journey he had undertaken in the previous four years. In 1860, Child had cast his ballot for Stephen A. Douglass, the northern Democratic candidate for president (who won the second-highest number of popular votes after Lincoln). Child was largely inspired to do so because he believed that Douglass’s moderation and justice would avert war. But now, in 1864, Child proclaimed himself a die-hard supporter of Lincoln who was committed to crushing the rebellion. To those in Bath who argued that he had changed his views, Child retorted that he had not changed—rather, the circumstances had. Once the Southern states had seceded and taken up arms, he argued, the federal government had to put down the rebellion for the sake of the nation and its future greatness.
What is remarkable about this letter is that it shows how secession and the war had transformed Child from a self-proclaimed political moderate into a radical who supported policies that would have been unthinkable in 1860. By 1864, he backed abolition, the arming of formerly enslaved men, and education as well as material support for their wives and children. Such a transition is especially interesting since several of Child’s letters reveal that he was a racist who found Black people physically repulsive.[ii] At the same time, when compared to Child’s other letters, this one is almost unique for its assertiveness and emphatic character. There is none of the wavering or second-guessing that one sees in many of his missives.
Finally, I should mention something about “John.” Who was this person, and what did he do to prompt such a reaction from Child? A glossary of names at the end of Letters from a Civil War Surgeon reveals that both Child and his wife, Carrie, had brothers named John. According to the 1860 Census, John D. Child (1842-1910) lived in Bath with his parents, Dwight and Nancy.[iii] John H. Lang (1827-1898), Carrie’s brother, is also listed as living in Bath that year, but as the head of a household.[iv] I’m inclined to think that John Child is our man. For one thing, William Child wrote that “John” was young (in 1864, John Child was 22 as opposed to John Lang’s 37). For another, in a later letter, Child had this to write: “If John did not wish to go in the army a few hundred dollars would have obtained a substitute. I would not advise my brother to go if drafted so long as all others send substitutes. But the true way is for all that are drafted to go.”[v] Obviously, John avoided the draft somehow, but what exactly he did remains a mystery. Sounds like more research is required!
Here follows the letter:
Fort Stedman, Near Petersburg, Va., Oct. 29th, 1864
My Dear Wife,
Lives there a man with soul so dead
Who to himself hath not said
This is my own—my native land?[vi]
The quotation may be incorrect, but you have the idea. What a thrill fills every true, manly breast at this sentiment. How destitute of every noble feeling must be the man who could not be aroused by this. The man whose blood would not thrill with the sentiment is not worthy of a country—nor can he appreciate its value.
These general remarks I have written on the receipt of yours of the 25th. You know well enough what my feelings were when I heard that any of my friends had acted so unwisely. Any one doing this does not understand fully his position or must be destitute of every noble feeling of love for his country or respect for his old flag. He must be either a traitor or a coward. I think John will see the time when he will regret the act. He will see that he was blinded by political and local prejudice and was thus led to do an unwise act. I can not believe that he fully understood the matter. I never supposed that he would do so. Perhaps he was not directly influenced to do so, yet I believe he has been surrounded by influences that encouraged it. He is young and probably did not understand affairs in their true light. Certainly the act by itself is a cowardly and disgraceful one—and would lose the respect of a true man.
The fact is but very few in our region have a just conception of the condition of our country. At heart they may be loyal, but they are governed too much by party and neighborhood prejudice. All parties are alike. They fall over party stumbling blocks, and forget the great and vital truths of the times.
There never was a time in our country’s history, when so much calm deliberation was necessary as now. All party prejudice should be forgotten. Every voter has a great responsibility. There will be difference of opinion, yet all true men must see that their country needs aid. The only important question is how shall the rebellion be crushed. By every means possible. Show no yielding until there is not a man in arms against the government. If it is my view that the re-election of Lincoln is best who shall say that I have not the right. I do think so, and shall vote for him if I can. This I shall without fear of loss of friendship or hope of reward, except the reward of having done my duty.
No, Carrie, I never had any sympathy with those who have appeared to sympathize with rebels. I voted for Douglas [sic] because I thought his principles if followed by both north and south would have prevented the war and have given justice to all. And it is most gratifying to know how he would have acted had he lived. The fact is he occupied the true position between the two extremes, which unfortunately is unpopular until too late to avoid disaster. I then said I would vote to give the South justice, but when they rebelled I would compel them to return if possible.
Some talk of peace. I am for peace when the rebel states return to the Union. Others say let them go. Examine their country. Shall we give up all this territory and great rivers. I believe this is too absurd to talk about.
Why should we prefer Lincoln to McClellan. There are very many reasons, which I would give did I think it necessary.
Now my “friends” say I have changed my political views. There is not one question before the people now like those of four years ago. I only differ with them on the present political questions. Our policy now is to free every slave possible, put the able men into the army and give the women and children homes—and educations. We do not sufficiently realize the influence of our present acts on the future of the nation. Are we to be a great and powerful nation—or are we to be broken into weak and envious fragments. This is the great point to be considered. Better that every inhabitant of the South be banished than that our nation be divided. Now McClellan is probably, undoubtedly a true and loyal man. There is doubt in regard to many of his associates and supporters. There is none in regard to Lincoln and his supporters. Read E. Everitt’s [former Massachusetts senator Edward Everett] speech made in Boston a few days since. He speaks reason.
My Dear Wife, I do not think you have reason to suppose that I should not act as I thought was just—or according to my real views. I think those who know that I am not afraid to act or speak as I think.
I have not much to write you of the two days past. There has been some severe fighting on the extreme left. I think the results are not very favorable to either army. I have not learned the particulars however. Along our line we had a furious cannonade night before last. A great number of shells came into our for, but no one was injured. The greatest danger is in the day tie. In the night we can see them and doge them. Men soon become careless of danger. But I do not like them.
My Dear Carrie, I think of you often. I wish to see you—and dream of you day and night. I often think I will write what I would like to have you do if I should be killed, but I know you would do what is right and what you think would please me, if I could know at all. I hope I may be spared to return to live with you and help to care for and educate our children. I feel the importance of this more and more. Good bye.
W.[vii]
[i] William Child, Letters from a Civil War Surgeon: The Letters of Dr. William Child of the Fifth New Hampshire Volunteers (Solon: ME: Polar Bear & Company, 2001).
[ii] See for example his letter of October 22, 1863 from Long Island in Boston Harbor. Child, Letters from a Civil War Surgeon, 169.
[iii] “United States Census, 1860”, database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:M7WR-13B : 18 February 2021), John D Childs in entry for Dwight P Childs, 1860.
[iv] “United States Census, 1860”, database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:M7WR-13V : 18 February 2021), John H Lang, 1860.
[v] Child, Letters from a Civil War Surgeon, 284.
[vi] These lines come from Canto VI of Sir Walter Scott’s “The Lay of the Last Minstrel.” The actual lines are as follows:
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
These lines also appear in Edward Everett Hale’s famous short story, “The Man without a Country” (1863). It’s possible that Child picked up the lines here instead of from Scott’s poem.
[vii] Child, Letters from a Civil War Surgeon, 281-283.
The 5th New Hampshire Project 