(Correspondence of the N. Y. Times)
I spent three weeks at Liverpool Point, the outpost of Hooker’s Division, almost directly opposite Aquia Creek, waiting patiently for the advance of our left wing to follow up the army, becoming, if not participator against the dying struggles of rebeldom, at least a chronicler of the triumphs in the march of the Union Army. During this time I was the guest of Col. Graham, of Mathias Point memory, who had brought over from that place, (last November,) some thirty valuable chattels. A part of the camp was assigned to them. They built log huts, and obtained from the soldiers many comforts, making their quarters equal to any in the camp. They had friends and relatives. Negroes feel as much sympathy for their friends and kin as the whites, and from the present time, many a man in Virginia has lost a very likely nigger for the camp contains now upwards of a hundred fat and healthy darkies, in addition to its original number from Mathias Point. One of the number deserves more honor than that accorded to Toussaint L’Overture, in the brilliant lecture delivered by Wendell Phillips. He is unquestionably the hero of the Potomac, and deserves to be placed by the side of his most renowned black brethren.
The name of this negro is James Lawson, born near Hempstead, Va., and belonged to a Mr. Taylor. He made his escape last December. On hearing his praises spoken by the Captain of the gunboats on the Potomac, I was rather indisposed to admit the possession of all the qualities they give him credit for, and thought possibly his exploits had been exaggerated. His heroic courage, truthfulness and exalted Christian character seemed too romantic for their realization; however, my doubts on that score were dispelled, and I am a witness to his last crowning act. Jim, after making his escape from Virginia, shipped on board of the Freeborn, flag gunboat, Lieut. Saml. Magaw commanding. He furnished Capt. Magaw much valuable intelligence concerning the rebel movements, and from his quiet, everyday behavior soon won the esteem of the commanding officer.
Capt. Magaw, shortly after Jim’s arrival on board the Freeborn, sent him upon a scouting tour through the rebel fortifications, more to test his reliability than anything else; and the mission, although fraught with great danger, was executed by Jim in the most faithful manner. Again Jim was sent into Virginia, landing at the White House, below Mount Vernon, and going into the interior for several miles, encountering the fire of picket guards and posted sentries, returned in safety to the shore, and was brought off in the Captain’s gig, under the fire of the rebel musketry.
Jim had a wife and four children at that time still in Virginia. They belonged to the same man as Jim did; he was anxious to get them, yet it seemed impossible. One day in January, Jim came to the Captain’s room and asked for permission to be landed that evening on the Virginia side, as he wished to bring off his family.
“Why, Jim,” said Capt. Magaw, “how will you be able to pass the pickets?”
“I want to try, Captain, I think I can get ‘em over safely,” meekly replied Jim.
“Well, you have my permission,” and Capt. Magaw ordered one of the gunboats to land Jim that night on whatever part of the shore Jim designated, and return for him the following evening.
True to his appointment, Jim was at the spot with his family, and were taken on board the gunboat and brought over to Liverpool Point, where Col. Graham had given them a log house to live in, jus back of his own quarters. Jim ran the gauntlet of the sentries unharmed, never taking the roads, but keeping in the woods – every foot-path of which, and almost every tree, he knew from his boyhood up.
Several weeks afterward another reconnoisance was planned, and Jim sent on it. He returned in safety, and was highly complimented by Generals Hooker and Sickles, and the entire flotilla.
On Thursday, week ago, it became necessary to obtain correct information of the enemy’s movements. Since then, batteries at Shipping and Cockpit Points have been evacuated, and their troops moved to Fredericksburg. Jim was the man picked out for the occasion, by Sickles and Magaw. – The General came down to Col. Graham’s quarters about 9 in the evening, and sent for Jim. There were present the General, Col. Graham and myself. Jim came into the Colonel’s quarters.
“Jim,” said the General, “I want you to go over to Virginia to-night and find out what forces they have at Aquia Creek and Fredericksburg. If you want any men to accompany you, pick them out.”
“I know two men that would like to go,” Jim answered.
“Well, get them, and be back as soon as possible. Away went Jim over to the contraband camp, and returning almost immediately, brought into our presence two very intelligent looking darkeys.
“Are you already [sic],” inquired the Gen.
“All ready, Sir,” responded the trio.
“Well, here, Jim, you take my pistol,” said Gen. Sickles, unbuckling it from his belt, “and if you are successful, I will give you $100.”
Jim hoped he would be, and bidding us good bye, started off for the gunboat Satellite, Capt. Foster, who landed them a short distance below the Potomac Creek batteries. They were to return early in the morning, but were unable from the great distance they went in the interior. Long before daylight on Saturday morning, the gunboat was lying off the appointed place. As the day dawned, Capt. Foster discovered a mounted picket guard near the beach, and almost at the same instant saw Jim to the left of them, in the woods, sighting his gun at the rebel cavalry. He ordered the “gig” to be manned and rowed to the shore. The rebels moved slowly, thinking to intercept the boat, when Foster gave them a shell, which scattered them. Jim, with only one of his original companions and two fresh contrabands came on board. Jim and lost the other. He had been challenged by a picket when some distance in advance of Jim, and the negro, instead of answering the summons, fired the contents of Gen. Sickle’s revolver at the picket. It was an unfortunate occurrence, for at that time the entire picket guard rushed out of a small house near the spot, and fired the contents of their muskets at Jim’s companion, killing him instantly. – Jim and the other three hid themselves in a hollow, near a fence, and after the pickets gave up pursuit, crept through the woods to the shore. From the close proximity of the rebel pickets, Jim could not display a light, which was the signal for Foster to send a boat. Capt. Foster, after hearing Jim’s story of the shooting of his companion, determined to avenge his death; so steaming his vessel close in to the shore, he sighted his guns for a barn, which the rebel cavalry were hiding behind. He fired two shells – one went right through the barn, killing four of the rebels and seven of their horses. Capt. Foster, seeing the effect of his shots, said to Jim, who stood by: “Well, Jim, I’ve avenged the death of poor Cornelius,” (the name of Jim’s lost companion.)
Gen. Hooker has transmitted to the war Department an account of Jim’s reconnoissance to Fredericksburg, and unites with the army and navy stationed on the left wing of the Potomac, in the hope that the Government will present Jim with a fitting recompense for his gallant services.
– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Wednesday Morning, April 9, 1862, p. 2
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