New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-01-11
Touching Reminiscenoe of Washington.


me, was yet attended with sorrowfnl feelings; |
or, alas in the remains of that gallant army
IF patriotic soldiers now about to disband with
,ut pay, without support, stalked poverty and
disease. The country had not the means to be
grateful.
The details of the condition of many of the Of
dcers and soldiers of that period, according to
history and oral tradition, were melancholy in
the extreme. Possessing no means of patrimo-
NAL inheritance to fall back upon-thrown out
Of even the perilous support of the soldier at
the commencement of winter, and hardly fit for |
any other duty than that of the camp-their
situation can better be imagined than de-
scribed.
Asingle instance, as sample of the situation
of many of the officers, as related of the conduct
of Baron Steuben, may not be aniss When |
the main body of the army was disbanded at
NeWburgh, and the veteran soldiers were bid |
ding parting farewell to each other, Lieut. |
Col. Cochran, an aged soldier at the New Hamp-
shire line remarked with tears in his eyes as he
shook hands with the Baron:
ssFor myself could stand it (; but. my wife |
and daughters are in the garret of that wretch |
ed tavern, and | have no means of removing
them ~
"Come, come," said the Baron, ssdon't give
way thus Twill pay my respects to Mrs. Coch-
ran and her daughters
When the good old soldier left them, their
countenances were warm with gratitude-for he
left there all he had .5.
In one Of the Rhode Island regiments were sew
eral companies of black troops, who had served
through the whole war, and their bravery and
discipline were unsurpassed. The Baron OBJ
served one of these poor negroes on the wharf at
Newburgh, apparently in great distress.
What is the matter, brother soldier'"
"Why, Master Baron, want dollar to get
home with, now the Congress has no further use
for me-
The Baron was absent for few moments, and
then returned with silver dollar, which he had
borrowed.
There, it's all / could get. Take it,
The negro received it with joy, hailed sloop
which was passing down the river to New York,
and as he reached the deck, took off his hat and
said
ssGod bless you, Master Baronp'
These are only single illustrations Of the
army at the close of the war Indeed, WASH
ington had this view at the close of his farewell
address to the army at Rocky Hill, in Novem-
ber, 1893. s'And being now about to conclude
these his last public orders, to take his ultimate
leave in short time of the military character
and to bid final adieu to the armies he has SO
long had the honor to command, he can only
again offer, in their behalf, his recommends
tions to their country, and his prayer to the God
of armies.
udy Au1plc JuSllCe pe uOue Gnem mere, ana
may the choicest of heavens fayors, both here
and hereafter, attend those who, under divine
auspices, have secured innumerable blessings
| for others.
"With these wishes and this benediction, the
Commander in Chief is about to retire from ser
vice. The curtain of separation will soon be
drawn, ana the military scenes to him will be
| closed forever
The closing of the military scenes" am
about to relate:
| New York had been occupied by Washington
on the 25th of November, A few days after
wards, he notified the President of Congress,
which body was then in session at Annapolis, in
Maryland-that as the war was now closed, he
should consider it his duty to proceed thence
and surrender to that body the commission
| which he had received from them seven years
| before
The morning of the 9th of December, 1888,
was sad and heavy one to the remnant of the
American army in the city Of New York. The
noon OF that day was to witness the farewell of
Washington-he was to bid adieu to his militia
ry comrades forever. The officers who had been
with him in solemn council, the priyates who
had fought and bled in the heavy fght,''
under his orders, were to hear his commands no
longer. The manly form and dignifed counte-
nance ofthe 'sgreat captain" was henceforth
to live in their memories
| AS the hour of noon approached, the whole
| garrison, at the request of Washington himself,
was put in motion, and marched down Broad
street to Francis tavern, his head quarters.
He wished to take leave of private soldiers alike
with officers, and bid them all adieu His favor
lite light infantry were drawn up in line facing
inwards, through Pearl street, at the foot Of
Whitehall, where barge was in readiness to
convey him to Powells Hook
Within the dining room of the tavern were
gathered the generals and field officers to take
their farewell.
Assembled there were Knox, Green, Clinton,
Steuben, Gates and others, who had served
with him faithfully in the ss tented field;' but
alas! where were others that had entered the
war with him seven n years before' Their bones
orumbled in the soil from Canada to Georgia.
Montgomery had yielded up his life at Quebec,
Wooster fell at Danbury, Woodruff was barbar-
! eusly murdered while prisoner at the battle
on Long Island, and Mercer fell mortally wound
ed at Princeton; the brave and chivalric Lau-
rens, after displaying the most heoric courage
in the trenches of Yorktown, died in a trihing
skirmish in South Carolina; the brave but &C.
centric Lee was no longer living, and Putnam
like helpless child, was stretched upon the bed
of sickness. Indeed, the battle field and time
had thinned the ranks which entered with him
on the conflict of Independence.
Washington entered the loom-the hour Of
separation had come. As he raised his eye and
| glanced on the faces of those assembled, q tea1
coursed down his cheek and his voice was trem-
ulous as he saluted them. Nor vas he alone
Men, 'salbeit unused to the melting mood,'' stood
around him, whose hands uplifted to cover theil
brows, told that the tears which they in var
attempted to conceal, bespoke the anguish they
could not hide.
After q moments conversation, Washington
called for glass of wine. 1t was brought tt
him. Turning to the officers, he thus addressed
them:
'sWith heart full of love and gratitude,
now take my final leave of you, and most de
youtly wish your latter days may be as prosper
Gus and happy as your former ones have beer
glorious and honorable. He then raised th,
glass to his lips, and added, g cannot come t,
each of you to take my leave, but shall b,
obliged to you if each Of you will take me b,
the hand''
General Knox, who stood nearest, burst int
tears, and advanced, incapable of utterance
Washington grasped him by the hand, and EN-
braced him. The officers came up successfully
and took an affectionate leave. No words wer
spoken, but all was the ss silent elegance
tears" What were mere words at such
scene' Nothing 1t was the feeling of til
heart-thrilling though unspoken.
When the last officer had embraced hin
Washington left the room, followed by his com
rades, and passed through the line of ligl
infantry. His steps were slow and measured
his head uncovered, and tears flowing thic
I