For these no more shall ever weep, shall ever sigh.
The “Home” was not, as many supposed, purchased by Government, but by soldiers of the regular army. The first sum appropriated for this object, $40,000, was levied on the city of Mexico by General Scott. Here the aged and disabled soldiers of the regular army find a home. The building is large, beautiful, and commodious. We were conducted through it by Sergeant Charles Bussel, Company F, Fourth U. S. Artillery, who is now sixty-three years old. He was in active service thirty-one years—has been at the “Home” seven years. At present it contains ninety-six inmates. Everything is kept in the most perfect order, and moves on like clock-work. From the tower we had a fine view of the country for miles around. Spread out before us was the city of Washington, with its teeming multitudes and busy thoroughfares; its numerous spires pointing upward, whither our thoughts should oftener turn; its long rows of low white-washed buildings, whose mute walls, could they speak, would tell sad tales of human woe. Thither have been brought thousands of the suffering “boys in blue,” and from them have been removed multitudes of lifeless “boys in white.”
A little to the westward lay Georgetown, with its narrow streets and ivy-grown walls. A few miles down the river Alexandria could be seen. In the distance was Fairfax Seminary, and across the river the Arlington House, and the numerous forts which skirt its banks. The estate contains three hundred and fifty acres, a portion of which is under cultivation. Evergreens, shrubbery, and flowers surround the “Home;” gravel walks and carriage-ways lead to and from it in different directions. But amid all this beauty a solemn stillness reigns; here the voice of childhood is never heard, or woman’s face ever seen, except as an occasional visitor. These, it would seem, are all that it needs to make it an earthly paradise.[3]
[3] I am here speaking exclusively of the “Home,” without reference to the other buildings near, viz.: the summer residence of the president, and the residence of the governor of the estate.
CHAPTER XII.
FAIRFAX COURT-HOUSE—SEARCH FOR A SOLDIER’S GRAVE—RETURN OF THE RICHMOND RAIDERS—THIRD VISIT TO THE ARMY—ACCIDENT—FIELD HOSPITALS—DEATH OF SOLDIERS—GRACE GREENWOOD—LITTLE ANNA—BATTLE EXPECTED—CAMP RUMORS—A SEVERE STORM—THE ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-THIRD PENNSYLVANIA VOLUNTEERS—ARMY RE-ORGANIZED—GRANT TAKES COMMAND—REVIEW OF THE SECOND CORPS—SOBER REFLECTIONS.
Saturday, the 12th of March, I went to Fairfax Court-House with supplies for the sick at that place, having heard that they were in a very destitute condition. There were there no Michigan soldiers at Fairfax at this time, but as our motto was to do for all as we had opportunity, it was thought best to ascertain whether these reports were true, and if so, do what we could to better their condition. At Fairfax station, I visited the hospital of the One Hundred and Fifty-fifth New York volunteers. It contained but few sick, and none dangerously ill. At the Court-House, there were two hospitals, viz.: the Seventeenth New York Battery, and the Fourth Delaware volunteers. But finding these, contrary to expectation, very comfortably supplied, I left only part of my goods and returned to Washington with the remainder. While at Fairfax I shared the hospitality of Mrs. Anthony, whose husband was in command of the battery on duty at that place. Sunday morning I visited the place where were resting many of the “Boys in White.” As I stood and looked upon those lonely graves, memory recalled many sad experiences; for the very spot once occupied by our hospitals, in which I had watched by the dying couch of many a soldier who was now sleeping in his “turf-bed” at my feet, was only a short distance away. The grave of Peter Young, who died the morning we evacuated the place the previous June, I was particularly desirous of finding, as his sister was extremely anxious to come on for his body; but for some time after our troops left there was no communication with the place, and the country was soon infested with roving bands of guerrillas, rendering a visit to that place hazardous, if not impossible. Not finding his grave here, I started for another burying-ground nearly half a mile from this; but I had proceeded only a short distance when I came upon a sentinel, who refused to let me cross his beat, as I was without a pass. I told him the mission upon which I was going, but, like a good soldier, he still refused. It being too late to return to head-quarters for a pass—as the ambulance was already waiting which was to take me to the depot—I was compelled to abandon the idea of further search, and retraced my steps with many regrets that I could not even convey to the sorrowing friends the poor consolation, that the silent resting-place of their dear one was known and had been visited. While at Fairfax there was considerable excitement in regard to Mosby’s guerrillas, who were reported to be in the vicinity of Vienna. The cavalry were sent in pursuit of them; but every attempt to capture them was eluded. Before I left for Washington one division of Kilpatrick’s Cavalry passed through the place, having just returned from their Richmond raid, and were on their way to their old quarters near Stevensburg. Both horse and rider looked worn and weary. The real object of the raid had not been accomplished. Richmond had not been taken, and our starving soldiers were not released from those vile prison-pens.
Monday, the 14th, I again went to the army with supplies, and was instructed to remain until further orders. The day was delightful, the air cool and balmy. At the depot I fell in company with Mr. G. A. Willett of Ionia, who was on his way to his post of duty in the Second Corps. My trips to the army never lost their novelty, for the country passed through contained so much of deep and thrilling interest, almost every station on the route having been the scene of bloody conflicts, and nearly every object that met the eye was associated with some sad tale. When within three miles of Brandy Station, the train was thrown from the track, and four cars were completely demolished. One man was killed, and many others seriously injured. Fortunately the car we occupied, though thrown from the track, was not overturned, so we escaped unhurt. While waiting and deliberating whether to start on foot, we were surprised by the arrival of Lieutenant Chase, who was waiting for me at the station; but, hearing of the accident, he at once hastened to the scene of the disaster, and, in a few moments, we were on our way to the camp of the Michigan Twenty-sixth, where we arrived a little before dark.
I took possession of Dr. Raymond’s cabin—who was absent on leave, and, upon his return, took quarters with the Adjutant—which Willie, our cook, had put in the best house-keeping order, and who, during my stay of six weeks, ever seemed to consider it a pleasure to do all he could to make my home pleasant; always taking the opportunity when I was absent at other hospitals to wash my cabin floor, and to be sure and have a bright fire blazing on the hearth upon my return. Dear Willie! long ere the dawn of peace, he went to join the army on the other side of the river. Among the thousands buried at Arlington may be seen upon one of the little head boards the name of “William Brokaw, Company I, Twenty-sixth Michigan Volunteers.”
“Sweet be the death of those