Morning journal and courier., 1893-08-28
ON TO CAMP MUD.

clusfon OF Sheldon b. Thorpe,s
Paper Read at the Regiments Re-
union Last Friday In Old MilfOrI-
Woods, PlainSs VHtns and Hollews
of Fredericksburg Battle Days
Relics OF War Times at the Scene.
[ooNcLUDED.]
Our experiences in finding this choice |
title spot we called 'home" for a couple
# months included personal examination |
# large part of all the territory between
he Potomac and Rappahsnnook rivers,
hat is, 1t seemed 80. Starting in at the
head of that ravine down which We marched
and In which We halted when first coming
under fire of the rebel batteries, and where
Thompson was killed, we struck directly
back into the country along road we felt
sure would land US in about an hour Gas
Linaley walks) on the blissful spot.
But 1t didn't do anything of the kind:
We skirmished up every hill, and poked
through every hollow, but the camp didn't
matsrialize. We reckoned we had lad
vanced back" at least four miles when the
itself suddenly faded out Clear
ly then, We were on no road to Acqula
creek. We inquired at every cabin We saw
scratched our backs on barbed wire
4CACo6a EuoHSO CuX Aoe5S W OIL
number of dogs-but with no results ex-
cept to confirm the growing impress
sion In our minds that two fools had
got lost in Virginia.
It was at length told Us at one OF the
miserable dwellings, on the way that on
the road toward "Belle Plain" we would
find an elderly man who lived in the
vicinity during the war. This simon pure
native we were further informed would be
found digging grave. This last bit of
information was hopeful to Us and per-
haps to the deceased also in whose intor-
ests the grave was being dug, for taking
into consideration the lonesomenees OF the
country, it seemed to our northern eyes as
if anybody would be far happier under the
soil than they could possibly be on 1t.
We launched out In tbs direction indi-
Gated, and after half an hours further eur
vey of all the real estate theresbouts found
our man. He was busy with half dozen
others in following out of the
stony ground a last resting place for
a neighboz. The spot was under
a clump OF trees in corner
of pasture On hill. We did not see the
tenant who was to occupy this narrow
home. Shs was an old lady who lay in an
adjoining dwelling, and had spent her long
life within a few rods of where she was
soon to be buried. It Was the old, old
story being repeated, and as I saw how
her coffin would be, quite likely, home
made, and perhaps no clergyman present
(for we nowhere saw signs of church,,
and how barren Of those deft little touches
that go to soften this sad service In New
England would be that rite, thought the
boys who were buried In their blankets on
the distant heights after all had the best
of it. Theirs Is flames eternal camping
ground; hers is lonely, neglected fence
corner; yet I am not unmipdful that the
Lord will find her.
We discovered in our informant one who
remembered somewhat of the battle
though 1t did not appear he was as greatly
interested in 1t as we were. We learned
our course was set too far south and that
the portion of the army which crossed at
as ''the White Oak road" This thorough
fare lay from one to two miles further
north. Indicating with his hand in gen.
eral direction patch of woods on dis
tant hill, we were told to "git by thar" and
it would be found. It proved as he said
After half an hour through swamps, along
hills, over fields where the weeds stood
shoulder high, we "got by thar" and came
out On clean, Well-traveled highwsy. We
had struck the "White Oak road" sure,
but whereabouts by Its side was the site of
our ancient camp was as much an unoer-
tainty as ever. Every foot of ground was
carefully examined for a long distance and
though We fancied at one time we had
found location which answered the re-
quirements, still there was lingering
doubt after all, that the ground was not
historic for US.
1t was full of associations for some
body, as every rod of 1t showed traces OF
camps, and many lad besides those from
Connecticut has a equatters' lien on that
coil. Luckily came rafting alcng the road
| q grayhaired old fellow once resident Of
| New England, whom we 'held up" for In
| formation.
"Do you remember Burnside's army IL
| 1892"
eyes"
"Do you know whore IL lsy9"
eyes; all around here"
"Did you know any Connecticut regi
mentss'
"No."
"Do you know where the pcntoon trair
Icy the night before the bsttle2'
eyes"
"Can you take US therea'
| "Yes; get in."
L
| -Uinsley won't have any other.) Boil
| felt the moment our eyes rested on the
| slope along which that December efter
| noon the pontoons were gathered, We
| would bs saved. And 80 It proved
ride of fifteen minutes back into ths
country and then the whole picture flashed
| upon us. The woods, the plains, the hills
| the hollows, were again peopled with
| armed hosts; their oampfres made thu
| heavens dim and their drums beat the ole
| familiar ''calls." The regiment seemed t.
| be passing again with it's full rank
| through the camps on either side and VI
| heard the hearty welcomes.
| 'Hurrah for the Fifteenth Conneotioutl'
| "Glad to zee you, boys!" "Threa cheer
| for old Connecticut" end other like sx
CARNATIONS which then made every man Of
| us proud that We had como from the ole
Nutmeg state.
Let me turn back in reality to that day
and recall an actual incident. Of the
Thousands who greeted US IS We passed
along to the front remember one who ex.
pressed his surprise at our appearance
somewhat differently from his comrades,
at least he was more pointed in his remarks
for slowly steadying himself on pair OF
rather treacherous legs, he inquired of the
speaker with great establishment, "What-
part-of- -did-you-fellers come 'front.'
As twas no time to teach him geography
he was left in ignorance.
The landscape Linsley and myself looked
up recalled thousand things. None of
you could revisit that place and not find
the past coming up as flood. There are
memories stored away with you all which
only need word, glimpse to resurrect
them.
But we had more in view than to dwell
in the past, and reluctantly turned our
backs on the gcene. Something like mile
perhaps beyond where the pontoons lay,
VS. found at last the object of our search
"Camp Mud" There was no mistake
about the spot. It lay there, the most in
nocent looking piece of ground you ever
saw, dressed up as q corn field and the
stalks bowling and waving as welcome.
From right to left there was the easy
slope-the ravine in the rear-the bluff op-
posite it and the woods beyond. In the
front was the same large field where we
did battalion drill and had dress parades,
now a fine and well kept meadow. In
some places the bushes of then were the
trees of now but in the main, the contour
of the country had but little changed since
Burnaide's hosts trsmped over It's face and
burrowed in it's bosom. No new buildings
had been erected, but few fences here
and there appeared to have been replaced.
Nature had been noiselessly busy thirty
years healing and softening the wounds
and scars men made in as many days. TIC
the stranger there was nothing to indicate