CAMP PIERPONT, VA., Sunday,
December 8, 1861.
My last letter was written on Thursday evening. The next day
I went, in command of my brigade, on a foraging expedition. We proceeded some
ten miles from here, and within two of Dranesville, to the farm of a man named
Gunnell, who was reported not only as an active Secessionist, but one who was
making arrangements to place his crops in the possession of the Confederate
Army. We arrived on the ground about 12 M., and in two hours loaded some sixty
wagons, stripping his place of everything we thought would be useful to the
enemy or that we could use ourselves. I never had a more disagreeable duty in
my life to perform. The man was absent, but his sister, with his farm and house
servants, were at home. The great difficulty was to prevent the wanton and
useless destruction of property which could not be made available for military
purposes. The men and officers got into their heads that the object of the
expedition was the punishment of a rebel, and hence the more injury they
inflicted, the more successful was the expedition, and it was with considerable
trouble they could be prevented from burning everything. It made me sad to do
such injury, and I really was ashamed of our cause, which thus required war to
be made on individuals. The enemy were within ten miles of us, but did not make
their appearance, and we returned to camp with our booty by nightfall.
SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George
Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 234
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