Near Centreville, July 19th, 1861.
My dear Mother:
I am happy to write you of my continued health and good spirits. We had an adventurous time since I wrote you so hurriedly a few days ago. Leaving our encampment we marched on, halting often to remove trees and such other impediments as a retreating foe could place in our way. The first night we passed in Vienna. The next day we advanced on toward Fairfax Court House. We were drawn up about two miles off in line of battle upon rolling ground, and the batteries placed where they could play upon the enemy. Five shots from our guns sufficed to start our friends the foe again, so we advanced further, passing a deserted battery on the way. At noon we were in Germantown, which place we found deserted, and soon the soldiers were ransacking the houses for food, destroying and burning what they could not use themselves. I am happy to say the boys in my company had little hand in these doings, as such paltry work finds little countenance from its officers. Germantown is but a poor place though and $200 would probably cover any damage done to it. At night we bivouacked upon fields where the enemy’s fires were still burning, not far from Centreville. Here we were but a mile or two from the Secessionists, and the firing of pickets caused frequent alarms, calling us to our posts once in the middle of the night. We were all awakened by the long roll of the drum, which is the signal of an advance. We heard then what seemed to us all, in our half sleepy state, the tramp of cavalry upon us. Our toilettes were hastily made you can imagine, and soon we stood in silence not knowing whence the attack would come, but after an hour’s anticipation all became still, so the “chivalry” must have changed their minds and returned back to their posts. I cannot enumerate all the alarms we have had, for there is only paper enough to tell of our part in yesterday’s fight. About noon, I should think, for I have no means of calculating the time, we heard cannon firing not far off. There was no alarm sounded, so we lay around, sleeping, talking, and laughing with the utmost indifference. About 3 o’clock we were called to arms and, in the highest spirits, were marched off at a “Double Quick,” hoping that the 79th might have some share in the conflict now at hand. We found a Massachusetts Captain, an acquaintance of one of our sergeants. “We are going to give them fits” says the Captain. It was not half an hour afterwards we saw his body borne back in one of our ambulances. When near the field of action we were divided off in line, concealed in the edge of the wood. The cannon balls whipped about us on all sides. The enemy, either by accident, or knowing of our presence, had us directly in their range. One man in my platoon was struck in the leg. Thank God our loss was not greater. We were totally unaware of our destination. It was found afterwards we had been stationed out to cover the retreat of the Brigade already in action. After a while the cannon ceased firing and we were marched off to our present bivouack.
You must know the particulars of yesterday’s skirmish by the papers a thousand times better than I can tell you.
Excuse the style of this letter, for it is written with the paper on the side of an axe. An order has just been issued imposing the severest penalties upon all those who shall in any wise trespass on private property. I am now ready to march forward with a lighter heart, for it was not pleasant to be connected with thieves – call thieving confiscation or what you will.
My best love, dearest Mother, for all. Keep up a light heart and trust in the Power of Him who ruleth all.
Very affec’y.,
W. T. Lusk,
Lieut. 10th Co. 70th Regt.
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A part of this letter was published in the Norwich Morning Bulletin of July 23d, 1861.