Oxford Times, August 27, 1862
Point Lookout, Md. Aug. 18 [1862]
Dear Times: Believing that whatever occurs in which any Chenango Co. soldiers are engaged will be of interest to some of the many readers of your valuable paper, I take the liberty of recounting the late adventures of myself and friend.
On the afternoon of the 1st inst., while enjoying the delicious flavor of some blackberries which we found at two or three miles distance from Camp, at Newport News, we were accosted by, we supposed, a Union soldier, and were informed that much better berries could be had near by. We followed and found "nary" berry but two Guerrillas which we wished to bury, but we were prevented from the execution of our laudable desires by their warlike appearance, they being well armed, and we were forced to accompany them to near Gloucester Court House, passing on the way deserted barracks and crossing in the night the York river, one mile below Yorktown, hoping on our part to be taken by one of our gunboats stationed at Yorktown.
We arrived at our place of imprisonment at 2 or 3 o'clock, A.M., of Sunday. I believe that at least this once in our lives we obeyed the scriptural command of "Remember the Sabbath day."
Having filled our minds with visions of Rebel cavalry and throngs of secesh citizens, who, owing to the grievous wrongs inflicted upon them by the "accursed Yankees," were bent on their utter extermination, they deemed us sufficiently impressed with the exceedingly great danger which would follow an escape from their hands, and consequently allowed us comparative freedom of which we were not slow in taking advantage by unceremoniously leaving them in the small hours of the following morning. We take this opportunity of offering an apology for our sudden, unannounced departure. We plead business and pray them to excuse us. As they had kindly relieved us of what personal property we had about our pockets (we had not been paid, and this was limited) our departure was thereby facilitated, as we were not called upon to make much preparation for the proposed journey. We were aware that to retrace our steps would be extremely hazardous, and we must go on to the Potomac to avoid being forced "On to Richmond." We went stealthily along fortunately in nearly a northerly direction, going across fields and in the thick woods for four or five hours, when we ventured to enquire of a contraband concerning the safety of an attempt to procure food. We found him a friend of what he termed "Linkum soldiers," and he informed us that almost daily he saw them going north, and that they had enough to eat and were well treated. Then gleamed upon us a ray of hope. Then we became sanguine of success. But that success must be based upon deception. We must pass as deserters, we must bring a stain upon the cause we had espoused! We were heartily tired of the war, but we could not be deserters. We wished for peace, but we more earnestly desired a Union and no Compromise, and hoped to fight until such result was consummated. But, forgive us, the people from the Peyanketank River to the Potomac who entertained us, believed us to be deserters. But the evidence was negative in that we did not say we were Union and I grieve to say that quite a number of actual deserters has made this negative evidence conclusive. We had but to call at a house and ask for water and immediately a table was spread with at least a wholesome repast, occasionally with luxuries, and we were invited to partake, and we accepted such invitations with pleasure, and while we were dispatching the savory morsels we were always apprized of the fact that although traveling north was quite agreeable, yet it was absolutely certain that traveling in the opposite direction would be attended with embarrassing circumstances. We must henceforth be like Magnetic needles pointing north. They all chuckled over their success, and spoke exultingly, and not without reason, of the united efforts they were making in opposition to us, and I am confident we conversed with none who believed it possible for us to conquer them. The women and children, said they will, after every man is killed, fight until they all died martyrs to their glorious cause, a cause on which they really seemed to think Providence smiled, and in behalf of which he has interposed. But this story of fighting seems to me about as truthful as the story of Thomas Cats that fought until there was but a tail left, a tale that is told is all that will remain of their assertions. They told us that their boys of ten were such accurate marksmen that they could hit the size of a Yankee's heart (very diminutive in their estimation) at a distance of 250 years nearly every fire, As we came near the Potomac we found several Union families, and do you wonder when I inform you that they were all Poor? No broad acres were theirs, but I have reason to believe that some of them had great warm hearts. Every member of these families of sufficient age labored in the field, and the wealthy people would no more associate with these "poor white trash" than would the different casts of India together. I feel that no man can travel where we have in Virginia without becoming convinced that the object of the South in waging this war is the oppression and eventual expulsion of all white people who are compelled to labor for their daily bread.
As the butterfly emerges from the unsightly chrysalis, a thing of light and loveliness, so we, when we arrived at the Potomac passed through as beautiful a metamorphosis. We were once more Union soldiers, but when we were waving a signal for a gunboat to meet us and had it pulled down by the secesh and our lives threatened, we didn't know, to carry out the figure of the butterfly still further and to use a very familiar expression, but we should have to caterpillar again. But Union men came to our relief, and on the night of the 7th inst., we landed on the opposite shore of the Potomac after which we walked twelve miles to this Point Lookout Hospital, hoping soon to rejoin our Regiment. Trusting that the war will soon close, and that I shall see the gorilla of Barnum's Museum, instead of a southern guerilla. I am yours.
G.F.K. 89th Regt. N.Y.S.V.
No comments:
Post a Comment