As I Remember
other members who, under the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus,
were confined for a time either in Fort Lafayette in New York or in Fort
Warren in Boston. I well remember that one of these was Severn Teackle
Wallis of Baltimore, a lawyer of exceptional prominence and ability and
a universal favorite in society.
Shortly before the battle of Gettysburg, when Frederick County was
occupied by the Union troops, many of the officers dined at Needwood. A
little later, although over forty miles away, we knew that a great
battle was in progress, as we distinctly heard the steady firing of
heavy artillery. The news of the great Union victory finally reached us
and I listened in silent sympathy to the rejoicing of the Unionists and
heard the lamentations of the sympathizers with the Southern cause.
After the battle of Gettysburg, the disorganized Southern army came
straggling along through Maryland, their objective point being Harper's
Ferry; while General George G. Meade with his troops was on South
Mountain, within sight of the former locality. During the night there
arose one of the most violent storms I have ever known, and we naturally
supposed that it would render the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers, which
meet at Harper's Ferry, absolutely impassable, as all bridges had, of
course, been destroyed. The storm raged with such fury that we were
actually afraid to go to bed. Mr. Gouverneur and I were elated because
we believed it meant the end of hostilities and the Union restored; for
in our opinion, it seemed impossible for human beings to successfully
contend with the elements and at the same time to live under the fire of
Meade's guns. It would therefore be difficult to describe our surprise
when we learned the next morning that Lee's troops had safely crossed
the Potomac and were again on the soil of Virginia.
Several days later Mr. Gouverneur and I were driving on the national
turnpike, commonly called the Hagerstown pike, when we encountered the
Union army. Our destination was the country seat of ex-Governor Philip
F. Thomas, two miles from Frederick and within the shadow of Catoctin
mountain, which we were contemplating as a future home. Our travel was
not impeded except by an occasional inquiry in regard to our political
sentiments, as the Northern army was prone to believe that every
sojourner in Maryland at this time was an adherent of the South. This
national turnpike, which has been and still is a well-traveled
thoroughfare, was constructed at a cost of several million dollars and
was generally regarded as an extravagance of John Adams' administration.
In speaking of this road, which begins at Georgetown, D.C., and crosses
the mountains into Kentucky, Henry Clay once remarked that no one need
go abroad for scenery after viewing "the Valley of the Shenandoah,
Harper's Ferry, and the still more beautiful Middletown valley."
We were so favorably impressed by the Thomas place that we decided to
purchase it and in a short time found ourselves permanent residents of
Frederick County, in Maryland. We changed the name from "Waverley" to
"_Po-ne-sang_," which was the name of a Chinese Mission and meant "a
small hill." After seeing the children and myself comfortably
established in our new home, Mr. Gouverneur felt that he was now free to
give his services to the country for which he had so valiantly fought
during the Mexican War. As he was still in exceedingly delicate health,
active service in the field with all the exposures of camp life was
entirely out of the question but, desirous of rendering such services as
he could, he wrote the following letter to Major General Henry W.
Halleck, Commander in Chief of our Army:--
On my return from China, where I held the office of Consul
of the U.S., in the early part of May last I had the honor,
through the Honorable Secretary of State, to offer my
services to the President of the United States in any
capacity in which my military or other experience might
enable me to serve my country in its present hour of peril.
To my communication to this effect I have received no reply.
I have the honour now to tender to you my services on your
staff in some position wherein they may prove most
available.
The record of my former services in Mexico is on the files
of the War Department, and I am without vanity led to
believe that the historical associations which place my name
in connection with that of James Monroe may give a prestige
in our cause not wholly valueless. In conclusion I beg to
add that the subject of compensation with me would be a
matter of indifference.
General Halleck replied as follows:--
Washington, July 30, 1863.
Samuel L. Gouverneur Jr.
New York.
Sir,
The law authorizing the appointment of additional aides has
been repealed. Moreover, I have long since refused to
nominate except for distinguished or meritorious military
services. It is true that some have been put upon my staff
without having rendered any service at all, but they were
not nominated by me, and I do not recognize their
appointment as legal.
Yours &c.,
H. W. HALLECK,
Major General Commanding.
General Halleck seemed to be ignorant of the fact that the chief
requisite for serving upon his staff was not wanting in the case of my
husband, who, as before stated, was brevetted for gallantry and
meritorious conduct at the battles of Contreras and Churubusco in the
Mexican War.
Halleck's reply was a bitter disappointment to Mr. Gouverneur but a
tremendous relief to me, as I knew he was not in the condition of health
to serve even as a staff-officer. When he originally broached the
subject to me I did not try to dissuade him, as I felt that I had no
moral right to interfere with his ideas of duty to his country. The
Halleck letter, therefore, brought about a state of affairs in our
household much more satisfactory than my most sanguine anticipations.
Mr. Gouverneur, having done his full duty, gave up his idea of
re-entering the Army and, in a spirit of contentment, began to take up
life in our new home.
During the month of August, 1863, we had just gotten fairly settled
when the Confederate guerrilla chieftain, John S. Mosby, appeared at our
door with his band of marauders. Their visit was brief and we were
spared the usual depredations--why, we knew not, unless it were owing to
the fact that Mr. Gouverneur's nephew, James Monroe Heiskell, a mere boy
of sixteen, who ran away from home and swam across the Potomac to join
Mosby's band, possibly accompanied him. Mosby's men in the East and
Morgan's rangers in the West represented a species of ignoble warfare.
In reality they did not benefit the cause which they professed to serve,
but merely molested inoffensive farmers by carrying off their stock and
thus depriving them of their means of livelihood. In recent years I
discussed with a Confederate officer, the late General Beverly
Robertson, Mosby's mode of warfare, and he surprised but gratified me
very much by saying that in his opinion, it was a great injury to the
Southern cause. It seems hardly just that, during President Grant's
administration and later, official positions should have been bestowed
upon Mosby while the interests of other Confederate officers who had
fought a fair and honorable fight and had battled, moreover, for their
country during the Mexican War, should have been neglected.
These war experiences furnished strenuous days for us in our new home
and we lived in a state of constant excitement. I well recall the first
morning it was announced to us by one of the colored servants, while we
were at the breakfast table, that "the rebels were coming," and the
feeling of timidity that nearly overpowered me. Very soon some troops
under the command of General Bradley T. Johnson, a native of Frederick,
marched upon our lawn and encamped all around us. General Johnson
immediately came to our door and, although I was in anything but a
comfortable frame of mind, I summoned all my courage and met him at the
threshold. In a very courtly manner--too much so, in fact, to be
expected in time of war--he remarked, "You are a stranger here, madam."
I responded: "My life here has been short; my name is Gouverneur." He at
once said: "I suppose you are a relative of Mr. Gouverneur of the
Maryland Tract." I admitted the fact although I was not quite sure it
was discreet to do so, as the Union sentiments of my father-in-law were
generally well known, and I was talking to a Confederate General. He and
his officers spent some time with us and we found them exceedingly
friendly, and thus, at least for a time, the terrors of war were
averted. Many years later I met General Johnson in my own drawing-room
when he and his wife came from Baltimore to attend the wedding of my
daughter, Ruth Monroe, to his cousin, Doctor William Crawford Johnson,
of Frederick. We naturally discussed our first meeting when he was
greeted with less cordiality than he received during his present visit.
Upon learning of the approach of the Confederates, we made rapid
preparations for their advent. As we had learned from our neighbors that
the South stood in great need of horses and we owned a number of them of
more than usual value, Mr. Gouverneur seized upon an ingenious plan for
concealing them. Under our house was a fine cellar which, unfortunately,
the horses refused to enter until the steps leading into it were
removed. When this had been done, they were led down one by one into a
darkened room, and bags were securely tied over their eyes to prevent
them from neighing. During the visit of the Confederates, which seemed
to us interminably long, owing to our anxiety about the horses, General
Johnson sat directly over their hiding place; but they behaved like
well-bred beasts and never uttered a sound. I had serious misgivings,
however, when I saw a mounted officer, riding around the house to make a
survey of the premises, stop at the upturned steps. For a moment I
thought all was over and my feelings were akin to those, I fancy, of a
person secreting stolen goods; but the investigation happily went no
further and he rode on.
When the active preparations for hiding the horses were in progress my
children were running hither and thither and watching the process with
much interest and excitement. I called them to me and in my sternest
tones told them of the near approach of the soldiers and gave them to
understand that if they said "horse" or "rebel devil" in their presence
I should punish them severely. They had been taught by the negroes on
the place to call the Southerners "rebel devils," and I feared for the
result if they allowed their childish tongues to wag too freely. A few
hours later I spoke to one of the little girls upon some topic entirely
foreign to our original subject, but she was so overawed by my threat
and the presence of the troops that she seemed afraid to utter a word.
After a little encouragement, however, she crept up to my side and
whispered: "Mamma, they have taken all of our saddles!" General Johnson
was still sitting on our porch, when a soldier approached and asked for
an ax. One was immediately procured, when the General, asking the man's
name, said: "That ax is to be returned." This order struck me as
somewhat ludicrous when a little later I learned that the ax was to be
used in demolishing all of our fences! This precaution was deemed
important in order to facilitate, if necessary, a more speedy retreat.
As night approached we were asked if a guard would be acceptable, and we
were only too glad to avail ourselves of such protection. As we were