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.

Story of a Trooper: Francis Colburn Adams in New Kent IV - A visit to Eltham

The continuing story of trooper Francis Colburn Adams' experiences in New Kent during the Peninsula Campaign . . .

The standard image of the house at Eltham; according to the Virginia Historical Society it is based on a drawing by a member of the family

The old Eltham mansion was a large, high, double-storied brick house, with tall chimneys at each end, aspacious hall in the centre, quaint gable windows on the steep roof, and large airy rooms, filled with substantial, but old-fashioned furniture. But little pains had beentaken to keep the building in repair, and there was adingy, antiquated air about it, inside as well as out.Several buildings used for servants' quarters, and which  bore evidence of having been spacious and comfortable,were now tumbling down in decay. A large brickbuilding, a few yards from the house, was used promiscuously for a kitchen, a chicken loft, a carriage house,and the quarters of several old and infirm negroes.But the whole more nearly resembled the shop of a blacksmith, who had taken a rag-seller and sootty cookinto partnership.

The present owner of this plantation, a rank secessionist,* whose name I have now forgotten, left for a placeof safety as we approached, leaving everything to the  care of an overseer, a swarm of sooty women and children (slaves) of all colors, and a few very old men.The able-bodied field hands, except the few he had induced to go with him, had all gone in pursuit of freedom.Those left had had it all their own way for a day or two, and the house was in nice state of confusion when we entered it. The overseer, too, was in a state of great grief at the way things were going, and wished, as he said, every hour in the day, that Mr. -— had stayed at home to look after the property. What  grieved him most was that the negroes treated his orders with contempt, and "grinned at him, and said they won't." He wanted to apply the lash, and whip them into obedience, as he had been accustomed to.

When told that if he attempted it he would find himself in the guard-house, and perhaps in irons, he thought it very hard of us to interfere in this way with his authority. This overseer was a little, lean, leathery man, with a sallow complexion, or perhaps I should say, no complexion at all, a sharp, angular visage, and a small dull eye. He wore a shabby grey coat, that reached almost to his heels, a soft hat slouched over his eyes, and seemed to be shirtless. He was a strange and quaint item of humanity, this little old man, this sovereign of the lash, who had so long controlled the affairs of the plantation. His mind seemed to be in a continual state of confusion and perplexity. He would  pace up and down in front of the old mansion, now pausing and looking with an air of wonder over the fields that were being desolated, then mutter to himself as if crazed with some new care. Then he would stand for an hour, fixed as a statue, but like a man full of sorrows, and without knowing what to do. If any one asked him a question he would answer civilly, moodily ; and he would generally end by saying, "Things have  changed so mightily since Mr. left, I don't know what's best to be done." Then he would shake his head and inquire if we intended to send them all away and sell the place. " If you do," he would add, "there'll be no more for overseers to do." The picture of this  little, moody old man, as he passed up and down before the antiquated mansion, contemplating at times the troops that had so suddenly and rudely destroyed his

fields, was one I shall not soon forget.

We took possession of the old mansion, and converted it into headquarters for Generals Franklin, Slocum, and Newton. The "young gentlemen" of the staff made themselves comfortable in the upper rooms, which were spacious and airy, and well stocked with feather beds and massive high-post bedsteads. General Franklin ordered that nothing be taken from the house, and the furniture, as far as possible, be preserved from harm. An inquisitive correspondent, however, found means of getting into the bureaus, and brought to light a number of ancient and curious documents, some of them valuable for their connection with the history of the place. There was also a considerable number of valuable old books found in one of the rooms, and which I fear were destroyed after we left.

When we arrived, the yards and gardens swarmed with pigs, turkeys, geese, and chickens, and against these an indiscriminate war was carried on until the provost marshal came up and put an end to it. The generals had gone out to examine the front and direct the disposition of troops ; and several " young gentlemen" of the staff, seeing such an excellent opportunity of replenishing their larders, set upon the astonished poultry and defenceless roasters with a fierceness and energy they had not displayed in battle. Clubs, stones, pistols, and swords were used freely, and it was, to say the least, somewhat amusing to see a race for life between the smallest kind of a porker and a brilliantly  uniformed staff officer. Another, with a taste for chicken or turkey, would draw his sword and begin the chase, not stopping until he had secured his game. The most amusing scene during this " chicken war," at Eltham, which was not waged without the loss of some blood, was enacted between a tall, gaunt, fair-haired German officer of cavalry, in spectacles, and prodigiously booted and spurred, on the one side, and a goose he wanted for dinner on the other. The goose resolved not to be captured, and made desperate use of both wings and legs, and the stalwart trooper was equally resolved not to be done out of his dinner ; so the chase was kept up for at least twenty minutes, the trooper gaining on the goose at every stride, cutting right and left with his sabre, and each time missing his aim, owing to short-sightedness. In truth, the goose was likely to get the better of the trooper, when the assistance of an Irish orderly was called in and the gobbler brought down with a stone. Other gentlemen were equally persevering in their pursuit of turkeys and chickens ; and what with the loud gabbling of geese, the squeals of pigs, the screams of chickens, the loud gobbling of turkeys, and the wild enthusiasm of little negroes, who joined in the chase, the medley of ungrateful sounds became deafening. Two splendid peacocks, alarmed at the slaughter that was going on, sought, safety on the top of the house, and remained perched on one of the tall chimneys, where we left them two days afterwards, cautiously viewing the scenes below, but exhibiting no inclination to come down for food or water.

The little old overseer was very much disturbed in his mind at seeing the ranks of his poultry thus unceremoniously thinned out, and seemed greatly relieve when the provost marshal ordered him to lock up what whatever was left, and sell them for gold, which he did finding ready customers. Now, this war on the poultry of the Eltham plantation had its serious, as well as humorous aspects, and came very near resulting in a duel between two gallant gentlemen of the staff. A question of right to a chicken arose, and resulted in a very angry dispute between Captain Walden and Lieutenant Baker. Menacing attitudes were taken, and language used not common among gentlemen. It looked, indeed, as if we should be called on to measure ground for the gentlemen, and send for surgeons, pistols being the only means left of insuring satisfaction and settling the dispute. It may disappoint the reader, however, to know that no blood was shed, and that the dispute came to an end by each striving to outdo in the use of very bad language.

A short distance in the rear of the old mansion, near the bank of the river, and shaded by some fine old trees, was an ancient cemetery, surrounded by a high brick wall, and entered through an arched gateway, with stone lintels. In the centre of this cemetery  stood a moss-covered tomb, with the slab broken in the centre, and otherwise defaced. After clearing away the moss, I succeeded in reading the following inscription on the slab:

"Here lyes Intered ye body of y Hon. William B. Bassett, Esq., and Bridget, his wife,  of the County of Southampton, in ye Kingdom of England. He married Joanna, eldest daughter of Lewis Burwell, Esq., with whom he happily lived 29 years rnd ten months, and was blessed with 5 sons and 7 daughters. He departed this life ye 11th of October, 1723, in the 53d year of his age. He was a good christian, an affectionate, obliging husband, a kind and indulgent father, and a good master. His loss was greatly lamented by his county, his country, and family, and inexpressively to his mournful, disconsolate widow, who also departed this life ye 7th day of October, 1727, in ye 53d year of her age."

There is no doubt that good Squire Bassett was a fine Virginia gentleman of the olden time; that he kept choice hounds and fleet horses; that he entertained his friends at the chase; that he had many slaves; that the lords and ladies of the land were welcome guests

at his mansion; that, in a word, he lived as a fine old gentleman ought to live, and died a good christian. But that was before the hearts and souls of Virginia gentlemen were made corrupt by the degrading business of slave-breeding. Eltham had fallen from its high estate; genius, beauty, and wealth no longer held court in its halls; its gardens were overgrown with rank weeds, and the traces of its former grandeur fast wearing out in decay; and there was proof enough that the present owner made slave-breeding Eltham's chief source of profit.

" You used to raise a good many slaves on this place, I suppose?" inquired a Union soldier, stopping and accosting the little, old overseer.

" A right smart heap," replied the man, curtly.

'' About how many ?" queried the soldier.

" Say from fifteen to twenty a yeer; prime hands; brought a right smart bit of money; wus wurth from ten to twelve hunderd a head. Niggers all runed away whin you cum'd. Aint wuth much now. Slipperyest property now a man can have." "What did you used to do with them?" continued the soldier, fixing a stare on him; " sell them in the market with your pigs ?"

" Down South," replied the man, confusedly; then turning to the soldier, with a look of sympathy, he continued, in broken sentences, " Bin a prayin' all night that the Lord would deliver us from this cuss as is cum upon us."

" Old man," replied the soldier, with a look of scorn, " better if you had prayed to the devil. God don't heed the prayers of wicked men like you."

* the "rank secessionist" was Richmond T. Lacy. Eltham had passed out of the Bassett family in the early 1850's and Lacy was now one of the largest landowners in the county. Possessing over 3,700 hundred acres, Lacy owned or hired almost sixty slaves. He also had two sons in the Confederate army.

Story of a Trooper: Francis Colburn Adams in New Kent III . . . A March to Eltham

The continuing story of trooper Francis Colburn Adams' experiences in New Kent during the Peninsula Campaign . . .

David Rumsey Historical Map Collection-Map of the vicinity of Richmond, Va., and part of the Peninsula. From surveys made under the direction of Capt. A.H. Campbell, P.E.C.S.A., in charge, Topographical Department, D.N.Va. 1864.

A MARCH TO ELTHAM— A CHICKEN CONFLICT-

AN OLDEN-TIME HABITATION.

The morning after the battle (the 8th) came in bright and beautiful. The crash and clash of battle had ceased, and although its fierce engines were still here, and the dead were there to harrow up the feelings of the living, and the wounded to call for succoring hands

and sympathizing hearts, the quiet picture was in strange contrast with that of yesterday. We were surrounded by one of those soft, quiet landscapes than which none could be more beautiful. A gentle breeze, sweet with the breath of flowers, came playing as it were over the river. And the calm, winding waters of the Pamunky and Mattapony, the vast green fields that stretched away from their banks, the dark, luxuriant foliage that gave such a crispness and outline to the picture, with flowers everywhere in full bloom — all seemed to combine in one enchanting harmony. Here nature had just put on her most beautiful robes, as if to excite the soul's love. Strange thoughts forced themselves on the mind, one after another, while sitting on the bank of the river contemplating this gorgeous scene. How is it, I asked myself, that a God who is all goodness, and controls all things, has made man the most destructive of all His creatures, and permits him to lay waste these beautiful scenes, to scourge the earth with war ?

There were arrivals from Washington and New York this morning, and we again had the sutler and the news-boy in camp, both doing a brisk business. The battle of Williamsburg was just then absorbing our attention, and as we were anxious to get the lists of killed

and wounded, everybody bought a newspaper.

Portions of Sedgwick's, Richardson's, and Porter's divisions had come up by water from Yorktown during the night. About 9 o'clock there might have been seen about the headquarters' tents groups of generals, some of whose names will have a prominent place in the nation's history. In one stood the tall, thoughtful, and brave Franklin; the affable and courteous Fitz John Porter ; that sturdy, frank, and unpretentious soldier, Sedgwick; and the blunt, but good-humored Colonel Alexander, surrounded by a number of their staff officers. In another stood the sleeker, meditative, and restless Slocum, with his bronzed face and sharp features; the genial and brave John Newton; Dana, and the rolicking and energetic Torbert, of the Jersey brigade. There, too, was the honest-hearted Richardson; all surrounded by a number of staff officers, many of whom have since been killed or disabled for life; others have risen to high commands.

About 10 o'clock, an enterprising German arrived from Washington with a supply of refreshing lager, which found a hearty welcome at headquarters, for the morning was warm and sultry. Our friends, the newly arrived generals, were invited to join us, and numerous glasses were quaffed, with thanks to the man who first made lager.

About one o'clock, Franklin's division was ready to march, and after the wounded were taken care of, and the solemn ceremony of burying the dead performed, moved forward on a narrow, swampy, road, five miles to Eltham, on the right bank of the Pamunky, which here made a beautiful curve, and to the west of which, and following the course of the winding stream, extensive meadows stretched away as far as the eye could reach. This Eltham was a broad, level farm, of some two thousand acres, the soil remarkably rich and productive, and even now under tolerably good cultivation. It had evidently been a place of considerable importance, and had a history full of romance. Time was when the wealth, the fashion, the beauty, and the wits of the country round about assembled at Eltham, and held high court on the lawns and in the halls of the old mansion. But Eltham, like Virginia's pride, (a pride strongly resembling that found in England,) was coming down, and going to decay. An old black man, who had passed his five-score years, still lived on the place, and could tell you with great distinctness of the time when Eltham was gay and festive, and when the great men of Virginia were the welcome guests of his master, and the feast set before them was "the best in all the land."

Extensive fields of flowering clover, of rye, and wheat, stretched away from the river, and into these our division debouched and bivouacked, the animals enjoying the feast thus spread before them. In forty-eight hours these fields, so luxuriant of the coming harvest when we entered them, presented only a surface of bald clay. A landing was also made on the bank of the river, and a temporary depot established, and the fleet of transports and steamers came sweeping up in grand style, their spars and funnels presenting a novel appearance among the trees and deep green foliage with which the river banks were lined.

Our information respecting the capacity of the Pamunky river was somewhat confused at first. Few vessels of any size had ascended above West Point. Virginians had not given themselves the trouble to sound it, nor to consider the advantages it might give them in properly developing so rich a country. Hence it came to be regarded by the people along its banks as navigable only for oyster boats and small craft of very light draught. Some of the negroes, who had acted as pilots and oystermen on the river, thought a channel could be found much further up for nine and even ten feet of water. In order to settle this question, a gunboat, commanded by Captain Nicholson, with Colonel Alexander, of the engineers. Captain Arnold, of the artillery, (then on Franklin's staff,) and two other officers, whose names I have forgotten, started on a voyage of discovery up the river, the object being to establish our depot of supplies as near Richmond as we could get by water.

-The Story of a Trooper: With Much of Interest Concerning the Campaign on the Peninsula



-to be continued-