3rd Maine Infantry
Posted to the Project on 13 Sep 07
The 3rd Maine Infantry fought at the Peach Orchard on July 2, 1863.
The regiment came mainly from the counties of Kennebec, Sagadahoc, and Somerset and was mustered in during June 1861. Their commander was Colonel Moses B. Lakeman (1828-1907). When Lakeman took command of the brigade, Capt. William C. Morgan (1830-1864), a printer in Boston, commanded the 3rd Maine. Morgan was mortally wounded at the Wilderness in 1864.
The regiment number just over 250 at Gettysburg; it suffered severe casualties. The red granite monument is rather plain except for a large red diamond shaped block balanced on the top of the shaft. The shaft briefly explains the 3rd Maine’s role at Gettysburg. There are also markers along Hancock Avenue and Berdan Avenue for this regiment.
3rd Maine Infantry
Members of the 3rd Corps, 1st Division, 2nd Brigade
Commanded by: Colonel Moses B. Lakeman (1828-1907)
Engaged: 266; 18 killed, 59 wounded, 45 missing
Monument: The Peach Orchard. Markers on Berdan and Hancock Avenues.
May 30th, 2008 at 2:49 pm
“The regiment came mainly from the counties of Kennebec, Sagadahoc, and Somerset and was mustered in during June 1861. Their commander was Colonel Moses B. Lakeman (1828-1907). When Lakeman took command of the brigade, Capt. William C. Morgan (1830-1864), a printer in Boston, commanded the 3rd Maine. Morgan was mortally wounded at the Wilderness in 1864.”
The 3rd Maine was known as the “Kennebec Regiment”. Two companies from Augusta, two from Bath, two from Waterville, one each from Gardiner, Winthrop, Winslow, Hallowell, and Skowhegan. All of the towns are on the Kennebec River and most are in Kennebec County. Bath is at the mouth of the Kennebec River and is in Sagadahoc County. Skowhegan is on the Kennebec also, but is upriver and is in Somerset County.
Morgan was a printer in Augusta, Maine, at the time of his enlistment in the Third Maine. He had enlisted in the British army as an uneducated boy. His unit was sent to Canada for garrison duty. He was discharged in Canada after 8 years of service, was serving as the regimental law clerk at the time of his discharge. After his discharge he moved to Augusta, Maine, and worked there in a print shop as a manager. He functioned as a businessman, but did not own the business. He enlisted as a private, was promoted from private to captain! Being a drinking buddy of Lakeman had some effect as well as his previous military service.
I have an original letter written by Morgan to his wife, Amanda. It is very sweet. Will send a copy when I have access to my hard drive at home.
May 30th, 2008 at 9:46 pm
Camp at White’s Ford.
near Poolsville, Maryland.
September 28th 1862.
My own darling: —
Knowing that a letter is at all times acceptable to you, and not having much to do this (sunday) evening, I concluded to write a few lines, but I have written so many letters to you lately that I am afraid you will think you get too many. If so let me know, and I will not send so often.
As I said, it is Sunday, and has been a dull one, although a most delightful day, but here, where there is nothing to see, and not much to do, the time passes heavily, and almost anything is good for a change.
The men of my Company are collected together under an arbor of boughs built up by themselves, singing old “penny royal hymns”. They have just finished singing a portion of the eighth psalm of David: –
“O thou to whom all creatures bow,
Within the earthly frame;
Though all the world how great art thou.
How glorious is thy name”!
and most of them have good reason to sing praises to his name, for their safety so far—for they have been through the rough and smooth of almost every battle. — They are reckless, however, and are easily turned from the sublime to the ridiculous, — they are now tuning up “John Brown’s Body”.
The army is a queer place, — it either makes a man or spoils him. Aint you afraid I shall get spoiled? I’m spoiling now, and shall be glad when we get settled in winter quarters, and can have you come out, so as to preserve me.
I have been looking for a letter from you today, and as the mail has not got in yet, I do not give it up. You dont write often enough, you must get lonesome and write every day as I do. — I have had only 4 letters from you up to the present time since I left home, and you have had as much as a dozen from me, if not more, — now, you know, that’s hardly fair. — Fill them up with love or anything you please. —And I will write you a genuine love letter in answer. —
You dont know how much I miss you my darlings. I never felt the want of a small family so much as I have lately, — how I should like to romp round with the children, or hug up the mother, — but I wont excite myself. I am looking forward to a time when we shall not be so far apart. —If I loved home and its treasures in days gone bye, I shall doubly know how to prize it when I am again settled.
My own dear girl, we shall yet be happy and comfortable together, please God, — we do not need contentment, we had enough of it, and with our dear children growing up about us, we can live the summer of our lives in joy and happiness. In you, my precious wife, I place all my trust. And my own darlings will never displace it, — I hope. Take good care of your own dear self and our precious children, — do not slight them or yourself in any way, but live pure, and good, and true, and you will be a woman worthy of the love and life exertions of him who loves you far better than life itself.
My darling, when I first told you how much I loved you, you did not dream that from the battlefield, eight years later, the same man would be even more in love with you. — Have I not always been to you a faithful loving husband? — And you, darling, I would not think life worth living without you. When I look at your picture, and those of our darling children, and think of the happy hours we have passed together during the last eight years, and still seeing you a prize worth having. You cannot wonder that I resolve to have you pass a part of the winter with me.
I cannot tell whether we shall remain here a day, a week, or a month, — but we are like letters, we go where we are directed.
Give my best regards to all, — kiss the children for me, — tell Franky his papa loves him awfully, and wants him to be a good boy, and hoping this may find you all in the enjoyment of good health, as it leaves me. — I am, as you know, my precious girl, your own loving—
William [Morgan]