What is there in the idea of an attempted rescue of Brown? See Barbour and report. Cook is caught at Chambersburg, with Washington's pistols on him. Williams identifies man here as one of those who appeared with Brown on bridge.
W. P. SMITH.
The Expedition.
The morning of February 6th found us in line on the parade ground, New York and Massachusetts shoulder to shoulder. Capt. Phillips, wanting a brave and valiant veteran on the left of his company, assigned me to that post of honor. I reckon the reason for it was that two of his sergeants were on the sick list. While standing in line, waiting the order to march, a scene is transpiring which to us of the 25th is altogether new and strange. The ladies living here in camp are all out, and wetting their handkerchiefs with their tears, are watching the preparations to leave. They are struggling under a fearful burden of anxiety which will not be removed until our return. Groups of men and women are standing around, taking each other by the hand and kissing their good-byes. Our Brooklyn friends are visibly affected, while the 25th boys look on stoically. While men and women with streaming eyes are bidding perhaps their last farewells, these roughened, hardened sons of Mars look with unpitying eye on this affecting scene and laugh. I confess I should have taken a greater interest in the thing and my sympathies would have flowed more freely if I could have taken a hand in the kissing.
We marched into town where the brigade line was formed, consisting of the 139th and 118th New York, two regiments of colored troops and one U. S. battery, (the 2d I think). The mounted rifles were to follow later. This comprised the whole force under command of Brig. Gen. Wistar, whoever he is. The line of march was taken up the country on the road towards Richmond. Arriving at the woods, about a mile from town, the column was halted and a detail made to act as skirmishers. The 139th being on the advance furnished the detail. In this detail the 25th was largely represented, and was under command of Major Mulcay. The major marched his command a few rods into the woods, formed his skirmish line and ordered them forward, the column following. I now began to hear plenty of talk about bushwhackers and business for the boys ahead. Capt. Phillips fell back to the rear of his company, marching by my side. I thought this a good opportunity to scrape an acquaintance, and commenced talking to him, but he did not seem to be in a mood for conversation and said as little as possible. He commenced a low, suppressed whistle of a single strain of Rally 'Round the Flag. I tried all means I could think of to draw him out, but finding I could do nothing with him, I turned my attention to the major and his skirmishers. He was as busy with them and as particular as if they were out for skirmish drill, and kept talking to them all the time about preserving their distances and alignments.
After a time, the boys started up a rabbit, and half a dozen of them gave chase, shouting and yelling till they were out of sight in the woods, where they waited for the major to come up. The major lectured them a little about charging without orders and warning them of the great danger they were in from bushwhackers. All the thanks he got from those heartless fellows for all his care and solicitude was: “Oh! damn the bushwhackers!” and as soon as another rabbit or squirrel was started up, away they would go again. Capt. Phillips, who meanwhile had kept up his whistle, suppressed it long enough to say: “Your boys are taking great risks in running off into the woods in that way; some of them will get shot by bushwhackers.” I said I thought our boys had very little fear of bush whackers, and would sooner have the fun of chasing them than rabbits, besides I thought there was little danger from bush whackers, for when a force like this was marching through they preferred keeping at a safe distance.
A little after noon the cavalry overtook us, and we halted to let them go past us. I was surprised to see such a force; there was a whole brigade, numbering between 3000 and 4000, under command of Col. Spear, who had been sent down from the army of the Potomac, landing at Yorktown, and had now overtaken us. I could now begin to see through a glass darkly. This is the raid on Richmond, of which I had heard some hints before. The cavalry of course are the principal actors, and we are simply the supporting column.
The cavalry past us, we again started. The general hurried us up, wishing to keep as near the cavalry as possible, but the major's skirmish line rather retarded us. It was finally thought that with a large cavalry force in advance the skirmish line was not absolutely necessary, and it was withdrawn. The march was forced till past the middle of the afternoon, when it began to tell on the Brooklyn boys, some of them giving out. They were unaccustomed to such severe marching, and it took hold of them severely. We made a halt of an hour for rest and lunch, and before starting, Col. Roberts made a short address. He thought we were on the eve of a severe battle, and he hoped and believed his regiment would stand up and quit themselves like soldiers, and if successful in our undertaking we should deserve end receive the plaudits of the country. In such a battle, there must necessarily be some victims, but just who, we are of course ignorant, but each one is hoping it will not be him. I laughed, and one of the boys asked what pleased me. I said if the colonel did not look out he would have us all whipped before we sighted the enemy. We pushed along till into the evening; the boys were getting pretty well played out and would make frequent halts without any orders.
There was one of the general's aids who seemed to take a great interest in getting us along, and his interest from some cause or other (probably his canteen) seemed to increase with the evening. The boys would be groping their weary way through the darkness, when some one would give a whistle and they would all squat in the road. This aid would ride up in a great passion and order them up, telling them if they didn't get along faster he would put a regiment of colored troops on the advance. The response to that threat would be: “Bring on your niggers!” This officer had another provoking habit which he came well nigh paying dearly for. There were occasional mud holes in the road caused by the rains; some of them two or three rods across. The boys would flank these to keep their feet from getting wet and sore, but this officer attempted to drive them through, saying it took up the time tanking them. At one of these places he was going to drive them through anyway or it would be the death of some of them. I was quietly going around, and halted to see how he made it work with them. He was swearing at them, wheeling his horse right and left among them, and making himself about as disagreeable as he could. Just then I heard the ominous click of rifle locks, and heard some one ask him if he was aware those rifles were loaded. He seemed to catch on to the idea, and got himself out of that as quickly as possible, and was heard from no more during the march. Soldiers are human, with feelings and passions like other men; they can and do stand a great deal, but they cannot stand everything any more than a stone drag.
The night wore on, the boys were well nigh exhausted and made frequent halts. The colonel would sympathize with them, and encourage them by saying he hoped the day's march was nearly over, telling them to keep up courage and a few miles more the end would be reached. At one of these halts the major showed some impatience, and riding up to the colonel said:
“Colonel, I really do not understand the meaning of this?”
“What's the matter now, major?"
“Why, every few moments this entire regiment will simultaneously sit down?”
“Oh, well, major,” the colonel replied, “the boys are tired; they have come a long way and are pretty well played out; change places with some of them, major, and you will understand it better.”
That seemed to be satisfactory to the major and he rode off, but it cheered the boys up wonderfully and they made quite a distance before halting again.
It is curious how sometimes the most trifling act or expression will raise up the almost exhausted energies of men and inspire hope when almost on the verge of despair. As an instance of this, the boys while marching along had for some time preserved a dead silence; not a word had been spoken, and all seemed to be absorbed in their own reflections, when suddenly I stumbled over a stump. Gathering myself up I exclaimed: “There, I know just where that stump is!" The effect was like magic; all within the sound of my voice broke out in a loud and hearty laugh, and for a time forgot their fatigue and trudged lightly along.
We reached the end of our day's tramp at New Kent sometime after midnight, having made a march of thirty miles. Many of the boys were so exhausted that they threw themselves down on the ground and were soon fast asleep. I prepared some coffee, and while it was boiling, washed myself up, and after drinking my coffee, rolled up in my blanket and was soon asleep.
We slept about three hours when we were routed up, and a little after daylight were again on the march. The boys were pretty stiff and sore, but a mile or two took the kinks out of their legs and limbered them up so they were about as good as new. Nothing transpired worthy of note luring the forenoon's march, unless it was that Capt. Phillips kept up his suppressed whistle of that same strain of Rally 'Round the Flag. I tried to rally him and get him to talking, but it was of no use; he was entirely absorbed in his own reflections, ruminating, as I thought, over the probable chances of leaving a widow and orphan children as a legacy to his country.
Before noon we reached what is called the Baltimore cross roads, about two miles from Bottom bridge which crosses the Chickahominy river. Here we met the cavalry coming back, and Col. Spear reported to Gen. Wistar that on reaching the river he found all the bridges up and a considerable force of the enemy, with infantry and artillery guarding the river. With our small force and only one battery he thought it would be useless to attempt to force the passage of the river. On learning this I felt relieved, for if we couldn't cross the river to them, they certainly couldn't cross it to us, and in all probability they had no desire to do so.
Presently an alarm was raised that the enemy was coming up the White House road. The 139th was ordered down the road to meet them. We went about a quarter of a mile and formed a line of battle. A few cavalry went down the road a couple of miles and when they returned reported no enemy in sight or hearing, a circumstance I did not regret. We then went back and were dismissed for dinner.
This Baltimore is the junction of several roads; the one we came up from New Kent extends on to Richmond, one runs south to Charles City, one northeast to White House, and another runs north over into Northumberland, where once lived a little boy who owned a little hatchet and couldn't tell a lie. It was fortunate for him and the country that he lived at that time for if he had lived in these times the chances are more than a thousand to one that he couldn't have told the truth. There are some half a dozen farm houses scattered round in sight, and also the convenient blacksmith shop is located here.
In the little square formed by the intersection of the roads stands an interesting old building—the church in which Gen. Washington was married. It is a long, low, rather narrow building, without belfrey or ornament of any kind outside or in. It is without paint or even whitewash, and shows the rough marks of age and neglect. It is divested of its seats, having been used for an army hospital. I entered this historic old church and found it half full of the boys cutting their monograms in the ceiling; I uncovered my head in profound reverence for the place and the distinguished parties who were here joined in the holy bonds of wedlock. Here George and Martha mutually pledged themselves each to the other, to share together their joys and sorrows along the pathway of life until death should bring a separation, and well they kept their vows, for I have never learned that either of them ever applied for a divorce, although it is said Martha in prosperous gales was something of a shrew. For this little bit of history I am indebted to one of my Brooklyn friends who had made a previous visit here.
After waiting here a couple of hours the column re-formed and marched back over the road we came nearly to the woods, where we halted to let the cavalry go past us. After passing us they halted to feed their horses and themselves, and while waiting for them an alarm was raised that the enemy were coming through the woods on our flank. Down came the fences and a regiment of darkies filed into the field, and deployed as skirmish
Every few moments they would look back to see where their support was, while their teeth and the whites of their eyes resembled bunches of tallow candles hanging in a dark cellar-way. The alarm of course was a false one, but the colored troops fought nobly.
We arrived back at New Kent about night, and bivouacked on a large field near the village. New Kent is the county seat, and is not much unlike other country places they call towns in Virginia. It contains a court house, jail, church, two or three stores, tavern, a small collection of houses and the inevitable blacksmith shop. There is no such thing in Virginia as a schoolhouse; they have no use for such things. All they want is law and gospel, and I have not been able to find out that these give them a great degree of culture and refinement. More than 200 years ago the colonial Gov. Berkley said: “I thank God there are no public schools in Virginia, and I hope there will be none for the next hundred years.” His hopes have been doubly realized, which probably accounts for the present state of affairs in Virginia.
Getting into camp we built fires, made coffee and began to make ourselves comfortable. Some time in the evening the major happened along where a few of us were standing around a fire of burning rails. He began to upbraid us for burning the rails, telling us if we wanted fires we must go into the woods and get our fuel. I said to the major I thought it was all right to burn the rails; as we were sort of guests on the gentleman's place, I presumed he would be entirely willing and glad to contribute a few rails for our personal comfort during the night. He went off muttering something about destruction of property while the boys added more rails to the fire.
Next morning the march was resumed, Capt. Phillips came out looking bright and pert as a wildcat, the low whistle was no longer heard and he was as full of orders to his company as a major-general. We arrived back on the afternoon of the 9th, and as we sighted Camp West, the ladies were all out on the parade ground, waving their handkerchiefs in greeting of our return. It was like the old Roman armies returning from conquest, when fair maidens, with white waving arms, would welcome their coming. Now another scene ensued; fair women and brave men close in the fond embraces of love and thanksgiving for their miraculous deliverance. I could but feel that the 25th boys were rather slighted in not receiving a share of the kisses, for who can tell that but for them their friends might not now be dwellers in the Hotel de Libby. On the whole we have had rather an interesting excursion, having seen some forty odd miles of the county. It was very woody and I think the poorest I have ever traveled in for chickens, applejack and peach and honey. But the chickens and applejack didn't matter so much as the orders in regard to foraging were very strict. These officers in command here seem to think the proper way to conduct a war is not to hurt anyone or damage their property. The result was not much different from what I expected, and reminds me of the old couplet:
I reckon we must have gone very near where Pocahontas befriended Capt. Smith. The history of that little romance is that Smith was captured while ascending the Chickahominy river, and taken higher up the river to Powhatan’s lodge, and that was said to be some twelve miles below where the city of Richmond now stands. So I reckon we must have been in the vicinity where that occurred; I should like to have stayed there two or three days, or at least long enough to have selected some romantic spot as being the place where that drama was enacted, and if possible gathered a few stones and erected some sort of rude monument to the memory of the young lady.
Before dismissing his regiment, Col. Roberts thanked them for their cheerful obedience to orders, endurance and good order while on the march, and especially his new allies, who throughout the long march neither faltered, complained or straggled.
WILLIAMSBURG.
Washington's birthday. How well Virginians have emulated his example and teachings is this day apparent. God pity, the Mother of Presidents.
This classic old town, next to Jamestown, is the oldest in the state. It is full of historical reminiscences and a great field for the antiquarian. Until near the close of the 17th century this was simply a suburb of Jamestown and was called the middle plantation. After the burning of Jamestown by Bacon and the accession of William III to the throne, matters here began to assume a brighter aspect. Situated midway between the York and James rivers, which are here four miles apart, and enjoying the patronage of the king, the colonists became ambitious and thought the town would extend each way to the rivers and become the London of the New World.
For some time the founding of a college had been agitated and after the accession of William the charter was granted, he making large endowments of land and money in furtherance of the object. This was the second college in the British colonies, and in honor of the king and queen was named William and Mary. The great object of it was to educate in Virginia a succession of Church of England clergymen. After the erection of the college the town was laid out and named Williamsburg in honor of the king. From this time, under the patronage of the king and gentlemen of rank and wealth who came over and took up settlement, the town went ahead. A church, state-house and other public buildings were erected. An immense residence was built for the colonial governors and called the King James palace.
The town was the capital of the state or colony, and here the burgesses were wont to meet. It grew in population and wealth, and up to the time of the breaking out of the revolution was the most aristocratic and loyal town in all the colonies. The first thing that disturbed this truly loyal people was the debates in the house of burgesses on the stamp act, about the year 1765. Patrick Henry, then a young man and just elected to the house, opposed the act and with all his powers of reasoning and eloquence, advocated resistance to it. In these debates he gained the displeasure of some of the older members and especially those resident here. At this time Thomas Jefferson, a student in the college here, began to get interested in public affairs; he often looked in on the house of burgesses and listened to the debates, and a dozen years afterwards, in his declaration of independence, shone out the principles he there learned. Henry continued a member of the house of burgesses for several years, advocating the cause of the colonies, and in the Virginia convention to choose delegates to attend a congress of the colonies to be holden at Philadelphia to draft a declaration, he advocated it with all his impassioned eloquence, closing with those memorabile words: “I know not what others may think, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”
About the time that Governor Gage of Massachusetts attempted to seize the stores at Concord, a similar proceeding took place here, under the direction of Lord Dunmore, the colonial governor. At midnight Capt. Collins of the armed schooner Magdalen, with a company of marines, entered the town and carried off twenty barrels of powder from the public magazine. This so incensed the people in the adjoining counties that they rose in arms and demanded a return of the powder or they would march on the town. Dunmore, becoming frightened, moved his family aboard a ship at Jamestown, and some of the leading citizens quieted the people by promising them the powder should be returned or paid for. But those promises were not kept, and Patrick Henry, at the head of about 1500 militia moved on the town, declaring he would have the powder or would make a reprisal from the public treasury. When within about fifteen miles from here he was met by a courier who paid for the powder, thus ending the expedition.
A year or two afterwards Henry was chosen governor of the colony, and on his coming here brought with him quite a force of militia. On Henry's approach Gov. Dunmore went aboard a vessel and the fleet sailed down the river. Lord Dunmore was the last colonial governor and the last occupant of the palace. Ilenry so hated everything that pertained to kings or royalty that he positively refused to occupy the palace, and it was left to go to decay and ruins. Nothing now remains of it save the foundations and a few scattering bricks.
WILLIAM AND MARY COLLEGE.
Is now a mass of ruins; a company of the 11th Pennsylvania cavalry were the vandals. As this company were returning from a scout they were fired on with one or two shots from out the college as they were riding past. Instead of surrounding the building and capturing the murderers, they set it on fire and burned it to the ground. This college was located at the extreme western end of the town, and was a fine brick building over 100 feet in length and three stories high, with two tower entrances about 80 feet apart, in one of which was a fine bell. In front is a large park, coming to a point, forming the main entrance some 30 rods in front of the building. On each side of the gate are large live oak trees. In this park are situated four large old English style houses, two on each side and facing each other. They are about 40 feet square, two stories high, with a four-cornered roof coming to a point at the top. These were the residences of the officers and tutors of the college.
The college stands facing down the main street, which is quite a mile long; straight as a line and very wide, giving a fine view from the college. This is the second or third time that this college has been burned, but this last time seems to have been without cause or reason.
THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH,
An antiquated structure of gothic architecture, its brown spire and slender turrets pointing to where man's heart should oftener turn, is situated near the center of the town. It is built of brick brought over from England; they are very different in shape and color from those made in this country. There are no services held here now, but that doesn't matter much as it needs something more than the grace of God to keep this people in the line of duty and loyalty to the government. Their great need just at present is gunpowder. The churchyard contains over an acre, and is a cemetery where countless generations sleep forgot, and where rests his head upon the lap of earth the youth to fortune and to fame unknown.
THE OLD STATE HOUSE.
Situated not far from the church, is a plain old brick building about 60 feet long and about 30 feet wide, built on a basement story. The entrance is from a portico reached by a wide flight of steps. Here in these classic halls have been discussed grave questions of state-the destinies of the colonies, and as one walks through them, he can easily imagine he hears the voice of Patrick Henry saying: “The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to your ears the clash of resounding arms."
THE INSANE ASYLUM
Is a large, massive, prison-looking building, filled with the unfortunate wards of the State of Virginia, but who are now the wards of the nation, and are being well and tenderly cared for. On pleasant days the mild and harmless patients have the liberty of the yard, which is spacious, well laid out and set with trees. At the entrance gates are small brick houses into which they can go when so disposed. At the gates they will stand and talk with the passers-by, asking a thousand questions and all manner of favors. Some of them are intelligent and will converse for a few minutes in a rational manner, when they will switch off on their crazy talk and lingo. This is said to be the oldest insane institution in the United States, having been founded previous to the revolutionary war, but the present building would seem to be of more recent construction.
KING JAMES' PALACE.
I have not been able to get much history of this, when or by whom it was built, and the only tradition I have been able to gather is that it was a magnificent and gorgeous establishment, where the colonial governors lived in great pomp and state. All there is left of it now is a small piece of brick work about four feet high on one of the south-west corners or angles. It was situated on the north side of the town, and back some 30 or 40 rods from the main street on which it fronted. It is difficult to form much of an idea of this building, as only the foundations are left, and a part of these are only dimly traced; but it must have been a very extensive affair. It was all of 125 feet front and 50 feet deep, with two wings in the rear extending back nearly 100 feet, leaving an open court or garden. The foundations on the front and ends show several angles, as though fashioned after some of the old English castles. The height of it can only be guessed, but probably it was not less than three stories.
The grounds and gardens which surrounded it were extensive, and must have been tastefully laid out, if one can judge by tracing the old walls, and by the few remaining shrubs and bushes which survive. The grounds in front extended to the street, making a lawn or park of some two or three acres. This has been a good deal curtailed, having been built over on three sides, leaving a common or park on the street of about an acre, called the Palace Green. Why such an establishment as this was. built in this wilderness is only a matter of conjecture. It certainly was far beyond the needs of the colonial governors, and was probably built with an eye to its being a convenient refuge for royalty in case of adverse fortunes at home. Why it should have been left to decay and ruin is more than we at this day can understand. After the loyalists had left on the breaking out of the war, there probably was no one who cared enough about it to look after it, and the colonists so hated everything that pertained to royalty that it was left to the bats and owls, and in time went to ruin. Patrick Henry refused to occupy it while governor, and his successors followed his example. Egad! but what good cheer and right royal times must have been had here in those good old colony times, but the old palace to ruins has gone, leaving no memories or associations clustering around it save that it was the king's palace.
SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 124-8
WILLIAMSBURG, VA.
Leaving Newport News
on the afternoon of the 21st, we made a march of about ten miles, reaching
Little Bethel just before dark, when we halted and put up in an old church
building for the night. Little Bethel contains beside the church an old grist
and saw mill, a blacksmith shop and three small houses, all in a rather
dilapidated condition. There was no enemy within 100 miles of us, but Capt.
Parkhurst, either as a matter of form or through force of habit, put out a few
pickets. The old church had long ago been stripped of its seats and pulpit, if
it ever had any, leaving the whole floor unobstructed. After supper and getting
a little rested, a dance was proposed. A gallery extended across one end, and
on the front of this the candles were thickly set, lighting up the old church
in fine style. One of our German comrades of Company G had a violin and
furnished the music. Sets were formed and the fun commenced. The pickets
outside, hearing the sounds of revelry within, left their posts and came in,
and standing their rifles in a corner threw off their equipments and joined in
the dance. The captain remonstrated at such unlawful proceedings, but the cry
was “Never mind the pickets! on with the dance! let fun be unrestrained.” The
dance was kept up until the candles burned low, when we spread our blankets and
laid down for rest.
In the morning we
found outside five men with their horses and carts, waiting to sell us oysters.
Fortunately we were the possessors of a few scraps of paper bearing the
signature of Uncle Samuel. With a portion of this paper we bought the men's
oysters, and after breakfast we chartered them to carry our knapsacks to
Yorktown, thereby nullifying the order of the great Mogul at Fortress Monroe,
and I have not the slightest doubt that if he knew of it he would hang every
one of those men for giving aid and comfort to the incorrigible.
Leaving Little
Bethel we marched over McClellan's famous corduroy road through white oak
swamp, coming out at Warwick court house. This is a county seat, containing a
small court house situated in a pretty grove of trees, a jail, church, half a
dozen houses and a blacksmith shop. We arrived at the forks of the roads, a
mile below and in full view of historic old Yorktown, about the middle of the
afternoon.
Here we were met by
an officer and commanded to halt till further orders. I thought this was as
near as they dared have us come the first day for fear the malaria would strike
us too suddenly.
From here the dim
outlines of Washington's old intrenchments could be traced and near by was what
appeared to be an angle in the line on which guns were probably mounted and
which commanded the whole open plain between here and town. Now it did not
require a great stretch of the imagination to go back to those days and see
those brave men toiling and suffering behind those works, to build up for
themselves and their posterity a country and a name. I could see in my mind the
haughty Cornwallis march out upon this plain, surrendering his army and his
sword to Washington, in the last grand act in the drama of the American revolution.
But how is it today? Yonder rebel fort tells in thunder tones how well their
degenerate sons appreciate the legacy.
About dusk an
orderly rode up, bringing an order for us to proceed to Williamsburg, some fifteen
miles further up the country. We tried to get the captain to stop here till
morning and go through the next day, but it was of no use; he had got his
orders to march and was going through tonight. I could not see that it was a
military necessity to force the march, and after we had gone three or four
miles my knapsack began to grow heavy and I grew tired. I halted by the
roadside and said I was going to put up for the night and if any one would like
to keep me company I should be pleased to have them. About twenty rallied to my
standard. After the column bad passed we stepped through a low hedge of bushes
into a small open space, surrounded by high bushes which served as a shelter
from the winds. There we spread our blankets and laid ourselves down to forget
in our slumbers the weight of our knapsacks. The stars looked down on us and
the watchful eye of the Almighty was the only sentinel.
When we awoke in the
morning the rising sun's bright ray was peeping through the bushes. The first
object which met our gaze was a lean, lank, sundy-complexioned, long-haired
native, who stood peering over the bushes at us. The first salutation that
greeted his ears was, “Who are you and what do you want?" He replied, “I
seed you was down yere, and thought I would come down and see if I could get
some 'baccer?” Looking up we saw a house out in the field some distance off,
and asked him if he resided there. He said he did. We gave him some tobacco and
inquired about the roads and distince to Williamsburg. We inquired if there
were any bush whackers about here? He said “There mought be once in a while one
found." Then we put on a ferocious look and said they had better not be
found by us unless they wished to join the antediluvian society and have their
bones scattered in every graveyard from here to Jerusalem. The old chap's eyes
stuck out and he began to edge off, thinking perhaps we had got on a
thick coat of war paint. We made our coffee and started on our
journey, and by easy stages came up with the boys in the afternoon. They had
pitched the camp and got it all fixed up and named Camp, Hancock.
I thought the
captain was as glad to see us as anyone, but he put on a stern look and inquired
where we had been and why we fell out. We told him we were tired and lay down
by the side of the road to rest and take a nap. He lectured us on the enormity
of such proceedings, telling us we had committed a very flagrant breach of good
order and military despotism. We assented to all the captain
said, but kept thinking all the time that as we were a sort of outcasts, did
not belong anywhere and were under no particular command, there wouldn't much
come of it.
SOURCE: David L.
Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p.
111-3
North Bank of Chickahominy River, May 13, 1865.
We crossed the James river this a. m. Our division, the rear of the corps, paraded a little around Richmond, saw Libby Prison, Castle Thunder, the bronze statue of Washington, Lee's and Davis' residence, and a number of women. Some handkerchiefs flying. Two women told us they were Yankees and looked so sweet that I (in theory) lifted my hat to them. It always puts me out of humor to see Southern women cheer Yanks in public. We passed through the Rebel works where Kilpatrick made his bold dash in March, '64. We are six or seven miles above Mechanicsville, and McClellan's old battle ground.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 380-1
Near Alexandria, Va., May 19, 1865.
Rained all night. Reveille at 2 p. m., and started off before daylight. Men waded two or three creeks to their middles. March miserably conducted. Passed the church that Washington attended, built in 1783. It has nearly all, except roof and walls, been carried away by relic maniacs. Our division marched through Mt. Vernon by the vault and residence.
Thus closes this diary of one of the most memorable year's campaigns in the history of modern times.
We remained in camp between Alexandria and Arlington until the 23d, when we crossed the Potomac river, of which we had heard so much, and the next day (the 24th), participated in the Grand Review of the Grandest Army that ever was created.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 382-3
ASHEBORO, May 20,
'61.
Knowing that you are an ardent personal and political friend and that you cannot hear well, and that you are concerned on account of the slanders which my ignoble political opponents are industriously circulating, not to promote the good of the country by breaking me down, but to gratify personal malevolence—I desire to say to you that I have changed no political opinion I have heretofore maintained.
I still firmly believe in the wisdom and virtue of Washington and the early promoters of our government and that war. no other divided government can ever be built up so good as the United one we are pulling down—and hence I abhor the Northern Abolitionist and the Southern Secessionist, both co-operating with different objects, to break up the Union, but the whole nation has become mad. The voice of reason is silenced. Furious passion and thirst for blood consume the air. Democracy and Abolition, moved and instigated by the Devil, are the opposing factions. Nobody is allowed to retain and assert his reason. The cartridge box is preferred to the ballot box. The very women and children are for war. Every body must take sides with one or the other of these opposing factions or fall a victim to the mob or lose all power to guide the torrent when its fury shall begin to subside. It is barely possible that the leaders may pause before the carnage fairly sets in. The best chance to produce such pause and prevent war, is for us to show a united purpose to enlist besides, if we must fight, none of us can hesitate to fight for our wives-our homes-our sections. I have therefore concluded to urge our young men to volunteer. Division or hesitation among us will but invite the invasion of the black Republicans. My maxim has always been to choose among the evils around me and do the best I can. I think the annals of the world furnish no instance of so groundless a war—but as our nation will have it—if no peace can be made—let us fight like men for our own firesides.
SOURCE: J. G. de Roulhac Hamilton, Editor, The Correspondence of Jonathan Worth, Volume 1, p. 148-9
Having had an acquaintance with your father and formed an attachment to him for the noble and generous principles held by him, I have felt the same attachment for the Worth family and, as you know, have supported them on all occasions. I have been, it seems from my feelings, for some days compelled to pen some thoughts to you that you may know my feelings and anxiety for the preservation of this Union which feels so dear to me. My father and three uncles fought for it, two of whom lost their lives; is there any amongst us who has lost more ancestry blood than myself; then dear friend think it not strange if I entreat you to save the ship, save the ship, save the ship or let not the noble County of Randolph stain her hand in its loss—was not there once a nullification spirit gotten up at the North? Remember the Hartford Convention and how President Monroe treated the commushingers1 sent to him from it, gentlemen I can not receive you only as privet citizens, rather than see him in this capacity they sneak off home, whoted and made fun of in every town through which they passed—the people did not follow there leaders but it seames flew to armes and made peace—by the Vermonters in the affere of Plattsburg and that of Stonington, what next we here that a man by the name of Cooper was sent over to Columbia, South Carolina, as a leader in their College to fill the young students' minds with the seed and doctrine of nullification, which was soon done, and South Carolina nullified and kindled the sire to bust the Union, but it failed. The digest of South Carolina (says a writer) reclaims the name and titles of the King, and his officers so arranged that an uninformed reader from that work would not determine whether she was a state of the Union or a British Province. Hence the old seed of Toryism as a foundation for Nullification Cecession and a combustible to take fire and explode in the land the end at which she has aimed for forty years is at last accomplished; and what has she done, she has filled the country with jealousy, war armies, expenses, murder, rapine with all the horrors concomitant on war—and then Eve-like casts the blame on the North and Old Lincoln—but worse than this, several of the States are now assisting her to fan the flames and consume this once happy country, contrary to Washington's advice and councile, which was to exhume any man an enemy who should mention or intimate a wish to split or divide the Union, observing united we stand, divided we fall. I had an interview with an old man 77 years old the other day near South Caroliny he said his father was born in Virginia come to S. C. and married before the Revolution but in the time of the war the Tories were so bad he had to go back to Virginia and stay til peace was made. Can it be possible that the good and once virtuous people of these Southern States will choose this tyrannical state for their leader? O yes, she has become changed and virtuous enough to be our leader and will lead us on to conquest and to glory but I hope you will use your influence to save the ship—slay not your noble principles bus plead that we follow the example of Kentucky and Tennessee. The treachery of man in the heart and bowels of our country has been very great. O my God, what is to come! Do thou protect the ship: bring to naught the wicked council of the ungodly.
Now dear friend as I have been in the habit of looking up to you for advice but we have falling on strange times it seems. Saton has turned loose, IIaving great power and authority and has filled the earth full of lies from one end to the other: and fear has taken hold on me so that I know not what to do I fear there are unprincipal men enough to take the lives of men already have been called an old abolitionist—what next.
P. S. I have hoped that the good sense and virtue of the people would save the ship from the rocks, by the superintending Providence of God but it seems gon. O that the American people had cultivated the publick mind, taken good heed to themselves and their Country, we are a ruined people, ruined ruined, what a change. I have written a few unconnected thoughts thinking you are better able to understand than myself and will do your duty. Farewell now to farewell in time and in eternity is to do well.
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SOURCE: J. G. de Roulhac Hamilton, Editor, The Correspondence of Jonathan Worth, Volume 1, p. 138-40
