From John Hennessy, for Memorial Day weekend (Eric is working on special post fitting for Memorial Day, but until then, we offer this):
Somewhere among the 12,000 unknown graves in the Fredericksburg National Cemetery probably lie the remains of a young Union soldier, James R. Woodworth, from Varick, New York. Woodworth served in the 44th New York Infantry of the Fifth Corps. “Ellsworth’s Avengers,” the regiment was called, and they gained fame by virtue of steady service on many battlefields, including Fredericksburg and Gettysburg. Woodworth joined the 44th in the late summer of 1862, leaving behind his farm, young wife–Phebe Burroughs Woodworth–and baby Frankie.
Woodworth’s letters and diaries record his toils in the army as so many thousands of others do–the blessings of life, the curses of war, and the desire to go home mingling (and sometimes conflicting) with the commitment to do one’s duty. In many ways they are unremarkable. Except for one passage.
James Woodworth died on May 8, 1864 in the fighting at Laurel, a the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House. Months before, inside the cover of his diary, he had written a note to his wife, bidding her (and all of us) not to forget in case he fell. It is, I think, one of the most beautiful pieces of writing to emerge from the Civil War.
Should it be my lot to die in the present struggle, let the thought that I die in defense of my country console you. And when peace with its happy train of attendants shall once more visit this land, let it be your greatest joy to teach my child that I was one who loved my country more than life. This is the only legacy I can bequeath to him, but it is one that a prince might well be proud of.