As I Remember
closing the house for the night, after our strenuous day, one of the
soldiers on guard duty remarked to me, in a friendly voice: "Now I am
going to bed!" In my astonishment I said: "Where?" The smiling response
was: "On the porch, to be sure!" In this state of unrest there was no
repose for us that night and we did not even attempt to undress, as we
knew not what an hour might bring forth. Just before dawn there was a
knock upon the front door and, upon opening it, I found facing me a
guard who, without any apology, said: "I left my boots inside!" Before I
had locked the front door again and returned to my room, the Southerners
had "folded up their tents like the Arabs and as silently stolen away."
Only a short period had elapsed when several mounted officers dashed up
our driveway and anxiously inquired: "Where are the guards?" They gave
me only time enough to say, "They have gone," when they rode rapidly
away. We came to the conclusion that they were young men visiting their
relatives and friends in Frederick and that the retreat was so sudden
that no word of warning could be sent them.
We realized the next day that the hasty departure of the Confederates
was timely, as the Union Army was encamped all around us. Some of the
officers came to see us and Mr. Gouverneur invited them to dine. This
was a period of sudden transitions, for that night the Union Army
retreated and the next day the Confederates were with us again, dining
upon the remnants of the meal left by their adversaries. It was all we
had to give them, as all our colored servants, having been told that
they would be captured and taken further South, had fled upon hearing of
the second visit of the Confederates. This was naturally a trying
experience for me, as no servant except a Chinese maid was left upon the
place and I was in a strange locality. But luckily I found the last set
of officers pleasant and congenial and ready to make due allowance for
all household deficiencies. Several of them were natives of Loudoun
County, Virginia, and were familiar with our name, as they had lived
near Oak Hill, the estate of Mr. Gouverneur's grandfather, where my
husband had passed a portion of his early life. We soon learned that
country life during war times without satisfactory servants was much
more than either Mr. Gouverneur or I had sufficient courage or strength
to bear. This state of affairs resulted in my husband going to New York,
where he secured a family of Irish immigrants consisting of a woman and
three men. The relative positions of the two armies in our general
vicinity had meanwhile shifted several times and we never knew from day
to day whether we were destined to greet friend or foe.
On the particular morning of which I am about to speak, the Confederates
were again with us. They were apparently unacquainted with the
topography of the surrounding country and were naturally desirous of
securing such information as should enable them, in case of necessity,
to effect a speedy and secure retreat. We received an early call from
several of their officers who inquired the way to the "Alms House Road."
We had been so busily engaged in trying to settle ourselves down under
such adverse circumstances that we knew actually nothing of the
surrounding country; and, when Mr. Gouverneur informed our visitors of
this fact, they looked at one another in such a decidedly incredulous
way as to convince us that they thought we were withholding information.
My husband finally sent for John Demsey, one of our Irish immigrants,
who had driven considerably around the adjacent country, and one of the
officers in a rather offensive manner renewed his query about the "Alms
House Road." To our chagrin, John's answer was, "I do not know;" and Mr.
Gouverneur, realizing that affairs were assuming a rather serious
aspect, said: "John, you do know; tell the officer at once." With true
Irish perspicacity he exclaimed: "Oh, sir, you mean the 'Poor House
road'--I know that;" and forthwith gave the desired information. In
anything but pleasant tones the Irish youth was told by the officers to
accompany them as guide, and the order was obeyed with both fear and
alacrity. Mr. Gouverneur then exacted from the commanding officer his
word of honor that the man be permitted to return, and remarked at the
same time, in an ironical manner, that if they continued to tear down
our fences and commit other depredations we should all of us know the
location of the Alms House.
At a much later period General Jubal A. Early's Army passed our door _en
route_, as at least he hoped, for Washington. General John B. Gordon
sent an orderly to our house with his compliments to ask for a map of
Frederick County, which we were unable to supply. All through the day
the Southern troops continued to march by, until, towards sunset, the
rear of the last column halted in front of our place. As we knew that a
battle was imminent, we awaited the result with beating hearts and
anxious hopes. When the firing of cannon began we know that the battle
of the Monocacy had begun and were truly grateful that it was four miles
away! The battle was short and decisive and the Southern Army was
repulsed. The wounded soldiers were conveyed to Frederick, where
hospitals were improvised, and the dead were laid to rest in Mount
Olivet Cemetery, on the outskirts of the city. Both Northern and
Southern sympathizers became skilled nurses and their gentle
ministrations resulted in several instances in romantic attachments.
Among the young physicians left in Frederick to attend the wounded
soldiers was Doctor Robert S. Weir, who subsequently became
distinguished as a surgeon in New York City. While stationed at the
hospital in Frederick, he met a daughter of Robert G. McPherson, whom at
the conclusion of the war he married. Mrs. McPherson was Miss Milicent
Washington, who was a direct descendant of Colonel Samuel Washington, a
younger brother of George Washington, and whose five wives are all
interred in the graveyard at the old family home, Harewood, in Jefferson
County, Virginia. Mrs. McPherson, one of whose ancestors was Miss Ann
Steptoe, who married Willoughby Allerton, was also a niece of "Dolly"
Madison.
Prior to the battle of the Monocacy I discovered that our house was
again surrounded by quite a number of Northern soldiers. This was an
usual occurrence, to be sure, but this time they were making such a
careful scrutiny of the premises that I was led to inquire of one of
them what object they had in view. To my utter dismay I was informed
that as our house was upon a hill they had selected it as "a position,"
and that our safest place was in the cellar. We soon realized the wisdom
of this retreat as shells began to fly around us from several directions
and with much rapidity. We spent the greater part of the day
underground, wondering all the while how long our involuntary
imprisonment would last, as these dark and dismal quarters were
naturally a great restraint upon the children and exceedingly depressing
to Mr. Gouverneur and myself.
Although Northern in our sentiments, we sometimes preferred the visits
of the Confederates to those of their adversaries, owing to the greater
consideration which we received from them. Upon the arrival of our own
soldiers, their first act was to search the house from garret to cellar.
At first I indignantly inquired their object and was curtly informed
that they were searching for "concealed rebels." I gradually tolerated
this mode of procedure until one morning when we were routed up at five
o'clock, and then I protested. The Union soldiers took it for granted
that, owing to the locality of our home, we were Southern sympathizers,
and accordingly at times seemed to do everything in their power to make
us uncomfortable. During those trying days I frequently recalled the
wise saying of Marechal Villars, "Defend me from my friends, I can
defend myself from my enemies." We noticed, however, a great difference
in the conduct of the various detachments of the Union Army with which
we came in contact. We always greeted the appearance of the 6th Army
Corps with much enthusiasm. It was composed of stalwart and sturdy
veterans of the regular Army; and I trust its survivors will accept my
humble tribute of respect and esteem. Very early in the morning of the
day following the departure of some members of this corps from
_Po-ne-sang_ a private appeared at one of our rear doors and inquired
when the troops had departed. He had been indulging in a sound sleep
under one of the broken fences and was wholly unconscious that his
comrades had moved away. He hesitated for some minutes as to the course
he should pursue and then hurried off toward Hagerstown. We subsequently
learned that he was shot at a point not far distant and were impressed
anew by the bloody horrors attending our Civil War.
General David Hunter made frequent visits to Frederick and his approach
was regarded with terror by those in sympathy with the Southern cause.
It was he who performed the unpleasant duty of sending persons suspected
of disloyalty further South, thereby often separating families. Many of
his victims were elderly people and it is difficult for me at this late
day to describe the amount of distress these orders occasioned. I
remember one case particularly well, that of Dr. John Thomas McGill, a
practicing physician who, together with his wife, was ordered to proceed
immediately. Mrs. McGill was in very delicate health and the fright
caused by such summary proceedings, which by the way were not carried
out, tremendous Union influences having been brought to bear, resulted
in death. Many years after the war I attended a supper party at the home
of Judge and Mrs. John Ritchie, when the guests drifted into war
reminiscences. Dr. McGill was present and, as the conversation
progressed, he was so overcome by his emotion that an apoplectic stroke
was feared.
During the numerous visits of the Confederate army to Frederick County,
General "Joe" Johnston became a great favorite and for some time made
his headquarters in the city of Frederick. I learned from Colonel
William Richardson, a beloved citizen of that place, that the General
was especially solicitous concerning the welfare of the men under his
command. One day, for example, he found one of his soldiers eating raw
persimmons and at once reproved him for partaking of such unsuitable
food. The soldier explained that he was adapting his stomach to the
character of his rations. Although we did not see Stonewall Jackson's
troops pass on their march to Frederick, we were aware of their presence
there. Barbara Frietchie, whom Whittier has immortalized, lived in a
small house on West Patrick Street, adjoining Carroll Creek, but whether
she ever waved a Union flag as Stonewall Jackson's men were passing is a
question concerning which opinions differ. Southern sympathizers deny
it, while persons of Northern sentiments living in Frederick assert that
the verses of the Quaker poet represent the truth. At any rate, a woman
with such a name "lived and moved and had her being" in that city. She
was interred in the burying ground of the German Reformed Church, and
frequently pilgrimages are made to her grave, over which floats a Union
flag not far from where
The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
I may state, in passing, that it was during the Civil War that the word
"shoddy" was coined. It was originally used to designate a class of
inferior goods intended for use in the army from the sale of which many
fortunes were made. Later the word was employed to designate those who
used such goods; and thus, by extension, one heard not only of "shoddy
people," but also of "shoddy parties," "shoddy clothes," and so on.