COLONEL ELLSWORTH’S LAST LETTER
Reproduced by courtesy of Mrs. Charles H. Godfrey, Rockford, Illinois
It was a beautiful moonlight night and the bayonets of the troops could be seen glittering as they crossed the Long and Georgetown bridges for the invasion of Virginia. The
regiment arrived at Alexandria, seven miles below, at sunrise, disembarked unopposed, formed near the wharf, and Colonel Ellsworth with a squad of men from Company “A” started at “double quick” into the city, intending to seize the telegraph office and dispatches. Observing the Confederate flag flying from the roof of the Marshall House, he sent a sergeant with an order for Company “A” to come up at once. It was evidently his purpose to detail the company to remove the flag, for he then passed on; but, as if reconsidering, turned and entered the hotel. It should be stated here that the regiment had come to Alexandria under embarrassing circumstances; for not only had certain of the citizens expressed a desire that they should not be sent to the town, but General Mansfield, commanding at Washington, had threatened to muster them out of the service should they not conduct themselves in an orderly manner. This partially explains Colonel Ellsworth’s desire to obtain the flag without delay, fearing that it might enrage the men and lead to acts of vandalism. On the other hand, it is affirmed that before he left New York with his regiment, he remarked that “he would bring to the city the first secession flag he might encounter,” and that “he would not order any of his men to go where he would not go himself.” Just what was in the young colonel’s mind will never be known; probably a variety of motives impelled him to the act. He knew that the city of Washington would be looking for the lowering of the “bastard flag,” which for days had been flaunted as an insult and challenge to the capital city. President Lincoln at that very moment might be looking anxiously from the windows of the White House for its disappearance!
The Marshall House is an old landmark of Alexandria, constructed of brick and three stories high; it was famous as having entertained Washington. The flag was flying from a staff about twenty-five feet in length, attached to the frame of a rear dormer window, and was reached by ascending to
the attic by a stairway which had a landing and turn at the middle. Colonel Ellsworth and his party, having left guards at proper intervals, secured the flag, and were coming down from the attic, when Corporal Francis E. Brownell, who was ahead, observed a man with a gun, who proved to be James W. Jackson, proprietor of the house, standing at the foot of the stairs. He immediately sprang below, and struck down the weapon but before he could prevent him Jackson raised his gun, a double-barrel shotgun, and fired at Colonel Ellsworth, who had come onto the middle landing and taken a step or two down, the charge entering his left breast. The Colonel cried “My God!” and plunged headlong to the floor below, uttering soon after but a low moan. He fell near the room that had been occupied by Washington, and the medal he wore, inscribed, “Non nobis, sed pro patria,” was wet with his blood. Brownell with great coolness and rapidity of action took aim and firing struck Jackson in the middle of the face and as he reeled to fall plunged his sword bayonet through him, the assassin’s second shot flying harmlessly over Brownell’s head. A scene of confusion followed the double tragedy, heart-rending cries of agony, as Jackson’s wife bewailed her loss, resounded through the hotel, while the Zouaves, fearing that they were trapped in a nest of secessionists, posted themselves so as to command the corridors and ordered all guests into their rooms on peril of being shot down. Company “A” soon arrived on the ground, however, and on a litter improvised out of muskets, the body of Ellsworth was borne to the river, placed on the James Guy, and conveyed immediately to Washington.
Among the many tributes that were published in honor of Ellsworth, none were comparable to the beautiful words sent by President Lincoln to his parents. He wrote:[131]
“In the untimely loss of your noble son, our affliction here is scarcely less than your own. So much of promised usefulness to one’s country, and of bright hopes for one’s self and friends, have rarely been so suddenly darkened as in his fall. In size, in years, and in youthful appearance, a boy only, his power to command men, was surpassingly great. This power, combined with a fine intellect, and indomitable energy, and a taste altogether military, constituted in him, as seemed to me, the best natural talent, in that department, I ever knew. And yet he was singularly modest and deferential in social intercourse. My acquaintance with him began less than two years ago; yet through the latter half of the intervening period, it was as intimate as the disparity of our ages, and my engrossing engagements, would permit. To me, he appeared to have no indulgences or pastimes; and I never heard him utter a profane or an intemperate word. What was conclusive of his good heart, he never forgot his parents. The honors he labored for so laudably, and, in the sad end, so gallantly gave his life, he meant for them, no less than for himself.
“In the hope that it may be no intrusion upon the sacredness of your sorrow, I have ventured to address you this tribute to the memory of my young friend, and your brave and early fallen child.
“May God give you the consolation which is beyond all earthly power.
“Sincerely your friend in common affliction.