Norwich, Conn.
September 9th, 1862.
My own dear Son:
I am half sick, very sad, grieved, and troubled on your account, yet very thankful for the wonderful preservation of your life through so many dangers. I cannot but feel that a life so cared for has been saved for the accomplishment of good and wise purposes, which will be wrought out in God’s own time. Take courage, and strengthen your heart, my own precious son, in the remembrance of what He has done for you, through the whole course of your life, and especially for his goodness amid the dangers of the past year. Well may we all lament the loss of your General. I feel, and mourn as for a personal friend, and the nation too late acknowledges the want of appreciation of one of its greatest men and ablest military commanders. Gen. Kearny’s staff, I noticed, returned with his body, and so we have hoped that, sad as the journey might be, you would be permitted to accompany your General’s remains to their last home.
I have just received two letters from you, one of the 4th, the other of the 6th. May God be with you, my dear son, to comfort and guide. A dark cloud seems to have gathered around you; may it soon pass and the brightness shine again. The Herald and Times have contained little regarding Gen. Stevens, but the Tribune correspondent sounds his praises, and dwells upon his memory. There was a statement in yesterday’s Tribune, that while he was engaged in his last battle, prominent men, though political opponents, had decided to request that he might command the Army of Virginia, his splendid fighting on Friday and Saturday having at last awakened the remembrance of his superior abilities, and his distinction at West Point, as well as in Mexico, and whereever he had opportunities to show himself. The Express says he was sacrificed to political opinion.
Do write as often as possible, my son. My nerves are greatly shaken, although my health is far better in most respects than it used to be, yet I feel sensibly this strain upon my spirits. I cannot write as long a letter as I wish to-day, but I intend in future to write a little every day, to always have something ready for you.
The Lt.-Col. of the Eighteenth is not all that could be desired, and Ely, I am told, regrets that you are not with him. Political interests are paramount everywhere. Alfred Goddard called on us last night. He said he had followed your course, and everywhere heard your noble conduct spoken of. I will write again to-morrow. I am very sorry you have lost your back letters which have gone from my pen, as well as one from Lillie. All are well at home. Poor Matteson, how you must lament for him! Major Elliott, see, is wounded.
God bless you, my own dear son. In Him is our only trust. Would that we could meet if only for one short hour.
Your sisters send love and warmest sympathy. We all feel for you, and I pray earnestly to God for His help and blessings.
Lovingly and anxiously,
Mother.
Hunt’s suggestions are dictated by his kind heart, but I think you deserve and must receive a higher appointment than that of Aide.
