Pie at Cumberland- 1862

MY FIRST ARMY PIE.

Yea, cousin, your apple-pie of exquisite flavor and finely baked. I think it must have been made in my mother’s old fashion- the nicely, sliced apples placed between two crusts that, in the oven, become reduced to state of tender and delicate crumpiness? no, there is no such word, well, crustiness- not of that flaky and oleaginous sort that one meet with at the high priced restaurant, which are half confectionery and half cook-shop. When the pie was done to perfection my mother drew it from the oven, insinuated a knife-blade between the edge of the upper and lower crusts all around, and lifted the top carefully off. Then, with her knife or a small spoon she manipulated the apple, now thoroughly cooked, to a fine pulp, adding to it just enough of sweet batter, white sugar, and the blessed spices of the East- of what sort beside nutmeg I hardly know, although I am inclined to the belief she used only nutmeg and cinnamon. In the city where lemons are always handy, I suppose you might add another treat with a little of the juice and some grated peel; but in the country we had to depend upon the apples, of which we had the plumpest, crisp it and juiciest. After the "Interior department" had been skillfully compounded and mixed, all smoking hot, the upper crust was carefully replaced and flattened upon the delicious pulp and a little sugar-dust sifted over it, you had an apple pie that would melt in your month and cause your palate to twist about and wriggle fondly after the last morsel as it descended the esophagus. Ah! I have fond recollections of my early pie-eating.

But an army pie! Did you ever see one, or attempt to masticate one? 

I trust you have not. 

I have eaten an army pie, and felt afterward very much like the old chap did  who had bragged about eating crow, and who, when put to the test, worried down a piece, and said, "Yes, I kin eat crow, but I swear I don't hanker arter it." 

It was in May, 1862, when MCCLELLAN’S grand army moved from Roper's Church to Cumberland Landing, one sunny day. It was a march of twelve or thirteen miles, and I was on foot and all unused to tramping. I will tell you some other time how I happened to be with the army. It was not as a fightist I went along. This was my first march, and when I arrived at the place called Cumberland Landing, on the Pamunkey river, I was very tired and in a famished condition. Along the route I had been animated by the novelty of everything around; the great army trains rolling along; the columns of troops marching and halting for rest, some strolling into the edges of the beautiful forest some stopping by the way at farmers' houses to buy milk or other refreshments- the ferocities of war had not been developed at this early stage of the struggle- and, roving where I listed, talking to the frightened secesh and noting the features of the landscape's view to my eyes I thought not of fatigue. One of the pleasures of the march was the recognition of many an old friend in the New England regiments, most of whom, alas have since been mustered out of this world's service, "Then they felt that the soldier's life is always gay." They had captured Yorktown, had given the enemy a thrashing at West Point, and were marching gaily "on to Richmond." 

Well, we arrived at Cumberland, and the army began to dispose of itself in that shape which, fortuitously, made on the hills and plains one of the most splendid military pictures ever seen. I did not pause to look at picturesque effects, but in obedience to the fierce demands of appetite which arose at soon as we had reached our destination for the day, I sought eagerly for sustenance. 

As the turkey bustard and the raven scenteth afar off the unsavory carcass, so doth the soldier scent an army sutler, and I found a blue-coated living stream setting toward the bank of the river, where some masts of schooners were risible above the high grounds adjacent to the stream. Pressing along with the straggling column I found several vessels lying In the crooked river or creek, and one of them, at least, was a craft belonging to that noble band of men who shared the fortunes of war with our brave soldiers; I mean, of course, the army sutlers. This craft was a small schooner, lying a little way from the shore, and from its deck were transferred, along a long-boat which lay, bows on to the bank, what seemed to be the object of the "sacred rags" of the soldiery, ARMY PIES! 

The steep, high bank was filled with soldiers slipping down to the water's edge, and soldiers scrambling up from the boat with the much-coveted pies. The longboat was filled constantly with hungry customers, and the eagerness, hurry, and confusion Increased the delay In serving them. I struggled along with the rest, with hunger gnawing inside my waistband, and at last became the possessor of a pie, for which I paid a silver quarter dollar- we had silver in those days. Afterwards the cloud of war, Instead of having a "sliver lining," as all clouds are supposed to have, became lined with greenbacks. I got ashore and mounted the bank with difficulty, receiving many offers of half a dollar for my price from the soldiers in the rear, who would be delayed an hour, as I had been, in making the achievement. 

Cousin, an army pie is an awful thing- like two discs of greasy leather with apple pumice baked between. I was faint with hunger, I devoured that pie, and have been an invalid ever since. At first the horrible stuff lay like lead in my stomach, and then it began to aggress, tumbling about and thumping my ribs in the most agonizing manner, my hunger was appeased with a vengeance! I managed to reach the tents of the officers of the 1st Massachusetts artillery, and Lieutenant McCartney applied such restoratives as he had at hand, but was long before I recovered from the immediate effects (I shall never be fully restored) of that ARMY PIE.      Pius 1st

-Daily National Republican.(Washington, D.C.), January 22, 1866

The Pamunkey River. . . 1867 . . . Pirates!

ROBBERY IN THE COUNTY- EXCITING CHASE

A party of white men, consisting of the captain and four of the crew of a schooner from Baltimore, went a shore at Cumberland, on the Pamunkey river, Saturday evening, and breaking into the store of Colonel John C. Timberlake while he was absent, took from the moneytill about sixty dollars in United States currency. They also carried off with them a lot of wearing apparel and other articles valued at $100. They then returned to the schooner and sailed down the stream. The theft was immediately discovered, and a party of citizens, eight or ten in number, procured some small boats and gave chase. The race was a pretty close one, but the pursuing party overtook them about six miles below Cumberland, and boarding the vessel, arrested the whole party. They were lodged in the New Kent jail, and were to have had a hearing before a magistrate on yesterday, and as the evidence is direct and point blank, no doubt exists as to the decision of the court. 

-Daily Dispatch, 9 July 1867

Three Historical Markers for Cumberland Landing

At the historic Cumberland Platation at Cumberland Landing, New Kent County, Thursday, October 6, three new markers were dedicated by the Virginia Department of Historic Resources.
Speakers were:

Camilla Tramuel, President New Kent Historical Society; Kent Radwani, local historian; Mark Daniels, local historian; Julie Langan, Department of Historic Resources; John Poindexter, owner of Cumberland Plantation.

McClellan's Camp at Cumberland Landing- WO-23

French Cannon at Cumberland Landing- WO-22
(See also April 1847 issue of Southern Literary Messenger)

Cumberland Town- WO-21

A Historic Vista

While exploring the grounds of historic Cumberland Plantation in preparation for the Cumberland Festival 2015. I found myself standing on the grounds in front of the main building. Admiring the beautiful view of the Pamunkey River, a chord was struck in my memory. I snapped a pic with my prehistoric phone and on arriving home compared it to images on my hard drive.
This was the result.
Excuse my cropping ability.

153 years apart

Come to the Event . . .

Come to the Cumberland Festival at historic Cumberland Plantation in New Kent, Virginia, October 17 and 18, 2015. See and learn about Life During the Civil War in New Kent as presented by members of the New Kent Historical Society.  Enjoy the grounds and beautiful autumn vistas of the Pamunkey River.

Yours truly will be one of the featured speakers.

Story of a Trooper: Francis Colburn Adams in New Kent VI- At the Toler estate. (Language Warning)

Cumberland Landing, Virginia. Federal encampment on the Pamunkey, LOC

We return to Francis Colburn Adams on expedition in New Kent during the 1862 Peninsula Campaign . . .

"We struck tents on the morning of the 13th, and marched from the cross-roads to Toller's¹ farm, on which Cumberland Landing was located. It was a damp, foggy morning, the roads were slippery, and the marching slow and fatiguing. The weather cleared at about twelve o'clock, and a more imposing and grand sight cannot be imagined than that of the divisions as they debouched down the high hill on which Toller's house stood, and spread over the broad plain stretching nearly as far as the eye could reach to the West and South, and covered with clover a foot deep, and wheat and rye that waved and cavorted with the wind. But all this prospect of an abundant harvest was trampled down by the multitude of soldiers, which poured into the plain for three hours, then formed in three long, glittering lines, with banners flying and bands playing, with batteries of artillery and troops of cavalry galloping into position on the flanks and centre, the whole forming one of those grand and imposing scenes rarely seen, and never forgotten. A dark belt of wood stretched along the horizon just beyond our outer line, giving a more clear and bold outline to the field. Looking to the left, in the direction of New Kent Court-house, the plain was dotted with clumps of trees, under which the white tents began to nestle, in beautiful contrast to the deep green foliage. And, too, the soldiers hung their tents with wild flowers, for the woods were filled with them, and the very air was sweet with their perfumes. On the right we had the beautiful river, which was narrow here, and curved gently for a distance of four miles, its banks, near Toller's house, being covered with fine old trees. As the three gunboats, followed by the fleet of transports, swept round this bend, their tall masts and dark funnels peering above the trees, the effect was magnificent. Cumberland had never seen such a sight before, and the negroes ran out and shouted for joy. 

 I reached Toller's house about 9 o'clock, having passed two divisions on the road, and brought up a company of the provost guard. There was great excitement at the old plantation house which I got there, and the house servants, of which there was a great number, of nearly every variety of color, were in a state of mutiny. Toller, a round-shouldered, lean, and hard-featured specimen of the Southerner, was as craven-hearted a creature as it is possible to find anywhere. He was an arrant rebel; had taken an active part with the men who attempted to carry Virginia, out of the Union, and had voluntarily sent his slaves so work on the fortifications at Yorktown and Williams- burg, where they had been treated with great cruelty. He was now as servile as a whipped cur, and went about offering to do almost anything we wanted, if we would only protect him and his property. Very many of his field hands had left him that morning, and I ascertained that only a few hours before he had been whipping several of them. When rebuked for this, and told that he would be put in irons if he did it again, he thought it very hard that his authority over his property should be interfered with. He said, in a submissive tone, that if he were not master of his slaves, his slaves would soon be master of him. I at once took such measures as made him comprehend that a different order of authority now ruled on his plantation, and that he must respect it if he wanted to save his property from total destruction.

Mrs. Toller was a very different person, and exhibited much more courage and independence of spirit. After selecting a spot for General Franklin's* headquarters, I went to the kitchen to order some break- fast cooked. Here a number of the house servants were holding a sort of indignation meeting, and the sooty cook told me, '' Missus wouldn't let her do nothin for us." I was anxious to know what all this indignation among the colored population meant, and was informed that Mrs. T. had, with her own hands, applied the lash to two or three of her servants for cooking for Union officers that morning. One of the victims was an aged, but very sprightly house servant, the mother of a large number of bright and intelligent children, one of whom, (Miss Jane,) seemed to have the direction of every thing about the house, and had a neat and comfortably furnished cabin of her own. The whole family were indignant at this act of cruelty towards their mother, and I confess it was with some difficulty I could restrain my own feelings, when this old woman showed me her neck and shoulders, yet red with the marks of the lash. While assuring them that the like should not occur again, and endeavoring to quiet their feelings, this Mrs. Toller appeared among them, the lash still in her hand. 

 I rebuked her act of cruelty in severe terms, and warned her not to repeat it, or I would not be answer- able for the consequences. She very coolly informed me that this plantation, and these slaves on it, were her private property, and she would not have her authority interfered with. And this she repeated several times, giving a peculiar emphasis to the declaration that this was her private property; that our army had no right here, and that we must not interfere with her slaves. She also, in a broad nasal twang, peculiar to Virginia, wanted to know if I was in command of the "guard;" if I was, she insisted that "a double guard" be placed on her house and gardens; also that a "guard" be put over the cabins, to keep "what niggers there wus left from runnin' away." She also wanted me to go to General McClellan, and tell him that he must get away with his army as quick as he could, or there would be a heavy bill of damages for destroying her private property. I soon relieved the old lady's mind of the idea that her property was sacred, and finding no other way of getting rid of her, sent her to her house in charge of a guard, who kept her out of harm's way for the rest of the day. 

 The negroes were very thankful for this interposition in their behalf, and evinced their gratitude in various ways. The house servants here formed so strange and grotesque a group, that Brady, the celebrated photographer, had a picture of them taken and placed in his gallery. There was the old African grandmother, of four-score and ten, very black and very taciturn. And there were her two daughters; one very dark, the other the bright, fat, and kindly woman I have described as having undergone the castigation; and her numerous progeny, of every variety of color, from the darkest crispy head to the almost white with flaxen ringlets. Miss Jane was her oldest daughter, and directed the household affairs with rare smartness and energy. Her husband, Henry Armistead ², was a very black, but very intelligent and worthy man, whose master resided in Richmond, and of whom he purchased his time, which he employed fishing and oystering on the York and Pamunky rivers. About midnight, Henry entered my quarters, laboring under great anxiety of mind. He wanted my advice, he said, for he recognized in me a friend of his people. He had upwards of eleven hundred dollars in silver, the fruit of his labor for several years, buried in the cellar. He had been saving up this money, he said, to purchase the freedom of him- self and wife, and now that our army had come, he wanted to place it in my hands for safe keeping, while he took his wife and people and fled North. He said a man had advised him to pack up and leave that night, to take his money and on to New York, where he would be provided for by Mr. Horace Greeley, and live like a prince. Knowing that the country in the rear of our army was full of stragglers, and the very worst species of camp followers, many of whom were robbing the poor colored people, who were making their way to a place of safety, I advised him to do nothing of the kind, but to remain quietly on the plantation, keep the possession of his money a secret, and when we had taken Richmond, he would be at liberty to go with his family and relatives where he pleased. I was of opinion that neither his condition nor his prospects would be improved at the North; that the time would soon come when men of his class could make themselves more useful in the South, where they were born and reared; and so I advised him. I have often thought of this worthy man and his family, and wondered what became of them. 

 There was an air of comfort and plenty about the cabins of these people, which showed that they had been indulged more than is common on Virginia plantations. Indeed, it was astonishing to see the number of turkeys, pigs, chickens, hams, eggs, bacon, and various kinds of vegetables they had to sell us, and how ready they were to exchange them for our gold. (We paid gold for everything during the campaign on the Peninsula.) I noticed also that they were continually bringing out their last, and yet the reserve stock seemed to be without end. In fine, we fared sumptuously every day while at Toller's plantation, and left his enterprising servants quite an amount of our gold. 

 The pride of caste was kept up among these servants in a manner that was quite amusing. They spoke of Toller as a very low bred man, and spoke of him with an air of contempt, because he was once an overseer on the plantation. And the grave offence(sic) of Missus in marrying her overseer they had neither forgotten nor forgiven³. They spoke of their old master with feelings of love and affection; told us what a fine gentleman he was, and where he was buried, and scouted the idea that Toller was to be compared with him. "He is'nt nuffin but a low bred man;" they would say, "Mas'r was a gentleman."

Cumberland Landing, Virginia. Seated: Generals, Andrew A. Humphreys, Henry Slocum, Wm B. Franklin*, Wm F. Barry and John Newton. Officers standing not identified, LOC

1.- The actual spelling is Toler.

2.- More later on Henry Armistead.

3.- Susan Toler held the Cumberland Landing property in her own right.

Story of a Trooper V- Farmer Martin and the French Nobility

I return after an absence to the story of Francis Colburn Adams in New Kent . . .

"On the morning of the 9th, we got news that General McClellan had reached Roper's church¹, about nine miles across country, and established his headquarters.

Communication was thus opened between our right and centre; and Generals Franklin and Porter, with several members of their staffs, rode over to General McClellan's headquarters, and held an interview with him.Slocum's brigade moved out about three miles to a stumpy, new clearing, called the cross-roads, and encamped. Stoneman, with his flying column of cavalry, and General Sprague², passed up about four miles south of us, and had a skirmish with the enemy's rearguard, but, as usual, without inflicting any serious injury on him. Under the belief that he could do something of , real value if he had infantry to support his cavalry, Stoneman had obtained an order on our division for two regiments, which were sent to him from the Jersey Brigade. It was surprising to see how much opposition this order excited among some of our brigadier generals, who prevailed upon General McClellan to rescind the order and send the infantry back to their brigade. The rest of the day was spent at Eltham, landing cattle, supplies, and cavalry, the last being very slow in getting up. Indeed, it was almost impossible to tell why this cavalry should have been sent from Yorktown by water, subject to all the expense and delay of embarking and discharging, as well as cost of transports, when a good road was open all the way up,and fields of clover a foot deep.

The first supply train from Yorktown came through in charge of Alex, our Irish Lieutenant, who had been selected for the duty. The gunboat we had sent up the  Pamunky reached Cumberland landing early on the morning of the 10th, having passed a number of sunken vessels, and removed a variety of obstructions placed in the channel by the rebels. A good, safe channel, with ten and even eleven feet of water, was, however, found and marked out up to the landing, which was at Tooler's³ plantation, a vast open plain, affording magnificent advantages for encamping the whole army. A high ridge, on which the plantation house stood, overlooked an immense extent of country, and gave the spectator a view which, for picturesqueness, I have rarely seen excelled. A pale mist hung over the hill, and a camp with three or four white tents was dimly seen from the deck of the gunboat, pitched a few yards in front of the plantation house. As the mist lifted, the shadowy figures of the camp guards stood out in clear relief. The question was whether they were the enemy or our men. A glass was brought into use, and the blue overcoats decided the question. It was Stoneman's camp. He had halted his flying column, and was waiting for the infantry to move up. He had lost, it was reported, several of his men in an affair with the enemy near New Kent Court-House, the evening before.

Colonel Alexander, Captain Arnold, and several others landed and made their way to the camp, but with the exception of the guards, everything appeared in undisturbed slumber. While, however, the Colonel was making inquiry of the guard as to where he could find General Stoneman, a small-sized head protruded from one of the tents, and a somewhat husky voice inquired who the strangers were. The head and voice were General Sprague's. The General seemed somewhat confused, and could not exactly understand that the flying column had been overtaken by a gunboat.  The strangers soon had a pleasant greeting with General  Stoneman, who gave them an account of some skirmishing had with the enemy on his way up. They now made an examination of the ground in the vicinity, and in the direction of New Kent Court-House, procured correct information concerning the roads, and returning to the gunboat proceeded back to Eltham to report the success of their expedition. All the light draught vessels of our fleet could ascend the crooked Pamunky to Cumberland Landing, and on this being reported to General McClellan, it was at once determined to establish our depot of supplies there.

On the morning of the 10th another brigade of our division moved over to the cross-roads I have before mentioned, and encamped in the stumpy fields and on the wooded hills. In the afternoon General Franklin and his staff rode out and met General McClellan and several members of his staff at Slocum's headquarters, where they were very handsomely entertained. Accompanying the General was his favorite aid, Colonel Sweitzer, the Duke de Chartres, Count de Paris, and the Prince de Joinville, whose agreeable manners always added a charm to the company he was in. A very pretty and intelligent boy, belonging to a poor family in the neighborhood, who had been in Richmond about a week before, was brought into headquarters and introduced to General McClellan, who questioned him as to what he knew about the rebel capital. What he had to tell, however, was based only on rumor. "There was great excitement when I left, "he said, " and it was reported that Mr. Jefferson Davis had left the big stone house, and done gone out of Richmond."

It was here that General McClellan brought us the news of the evacuation of Norfolk and destruction of the phantom terror of our navy, the Merrimac⁴, which news was received with an outburst of rejoicing that made the very woods echo. When it became known to the soldiers that General McClellan was in camp, they manifested the wildest enthusiasm, broke away from all restraint, and cheered for him in their loudest strains. When, on taking his departure, he rode through the camps, they gathered about him in crowds, impeded his progress, threw up their caps, and made the very air ring with their shouts of joy. It was the most natural outburst of affection for the chief they loved I had seen the soldiers manifest.

The afternoon was warm and pleasant, and after the General had taken leave of us Captain Jackson and myself rode out about five miles in the direction of New Kent Court-House, over a road finely shaded with trees and bordered with flowering shrubs. On our return we stopped at the farm of one William Martin, an honest-hearted farmer, whose house stood about half a mile from the road, and where we found a hearty welcome, and were entertained with new milk and muffins. Farmer Martin gave us ample proof that he had always been a good Union man, and had, with many others in his neighborhood, struggled hard against the men who carried Virginia into rebellion. There was something so sincere, so kindly about the man and his wife, who seemed a very model of goodness, as to make us forget that we were in an enemy's country. He was not one of the rich, opulent planters, owning a hundred slaves, and therefore hating the Union that afforded them protection. They were to be found on the rich bottom lands adjoining the river, where wealth seemed to give greater force and bitterness to treason. Martin lived on what was called the ordinary upland, several miles away from the river, where the people were less educated and wealthy, but among whom I noticed a strong love for the Union and a more kindly treatment of our soldiers. Martin's farm comprised about five hundred acres; three hundred of it finely wooded with oaks and chestnut, the balance of it under that very ordinary kind of cultivation which has been followed in Virginia for at least a century. The farming implements here were of the rudest kind, and I could not suppress a feeling of regret that all these fine lands should remain unproductive for want of a little of that science and energy which has done so much for the advancement of agriculture in the North and West. Martin had but a few slaves, and cultivated his soil chiefly with free labor. We returned to Eltham that night at a rapid pace, and Captain Jackson's fine horse fell dead a few minutes after we reached headquarters.

Early the next morning we moved with the remainder of the division, and established our headquarters about a mile beyond the cross-roads. On the 12th I went out with the provost marshal and a company of cavalry to post guards along the road to protect property. In one house we found an aged mother and her only daughter, a young woman of eighteen, with an infant in her arms, the father, their only support, having been conscripted into the rebel army. A more terrible picture of poverty and distress could scarcely be presented. In another house were two young girls, and an aged, infirm father, the two brothers who worked the little farm having fallen victims to the inexorable conscription officer. The house of the sheriff or tax collector of the county⁵ was deserted, its furniture broken, and its floors strewn a foot deep with papers, old books, and manuscripts. Three or four old negroes still remained in the cabins, and told us this destruction was the work of some of our soldiers, who had passed that way the day before, and learned that their master was an arrant rebel.

On returning, I took four cavalrymen and stopped at Martin's house, to protect his property while the army marched up on the next morning. During the day I observed that he exhibited considerable anxiety of mind about something. He at length disclosed to me the cause of it. The wife of a Major Jones⁶, who was in the rebel army, had been frightened from her house on the banks of the Pamunky by the shells of our gunboats, and leaving in a state of great distress, had made her way through the woods, found sought shelter under his roof. The poor woman was now secreted in one of his garrets — a fact he considered it his duty to disclose to me, especially as he bad been assured that the distressed and innocent would receive protection and be treated with kindness. Assured of protection and kind treatment, she came trembling from her hiding  place, but in a state of nervous excitement enough to awake the tenderest sympathies of one's heart. She was a timid, delicate little woman, of refined manners and evident good family. The depth of her distress was increased by the fact that she was soon to give birth to a child, and her home had been made desolate by her own negroes, several of whom had threatened her life. My efforts to relieve her mind of all apprehension of personal danger failed to remove the intense nervous excitement under which she was laboring. She thanked me, however, in the most tender manner for my offer of protection, deplored the war that had brought this misery upon her, and with tears sealed the sincerity of what she said.

I sent this trembling woman to her home in charge of a guard, but it was not the home she left. The negroes had held high festival in its halls for several days, and the scene of destruction which everywhere met the eye showed how regardless they had been of the value of property.

I could not help feeling how thankful we ought to be that our fathers and mothers, our brothers and sisters, lived beyond this terror of war, where peace reigns.And yet the aching head and sorrowing heart of this poor woman is as a feather when compared with the accumulation of woe war brings on the people into whose country it is carried."

1. Ropers Church lay approximately a mile due west of Barhamsville.
 
2. William Sprague, Brigadier General and the "Boy Governor" of Rhode Island, was on the Peninsula in an unofficial capacity, looking after the interests of Rhode Island's troops and acting as the President's ears on McClellan's staff.

3. Cumberland the Property of Henry Toler.

4. The CSS Virginia , still called Merrimac by many in the North and and South, was scuttled by the Confederates on May 11 since her deep draft prevented her ascending the James River to Richmond.

5.  C.A.Hewlett was Sheriff of New Kent in 1862.

6. "Major"Jones is, I believe, Rowland Jones a large landowner on the Pamunkey. Possessing no Confederate rank I can find, "Major" is probably an honorific from bygone militia days. Jones, age 62 and a widower, had recently married again, to the 22 year old Octavia Jones.