Larry Purtell
Little Meadows, PA, USA
Posts: 722
 | | July 14,1863 NYT | | Posted on: 7/14/2010 5:45:53 AM | OUR HARRISBURG CORRESPONDENCE; A Correspondent's Difficulties at Chambersburgh--The Cumberland Valley, &c. A TRIP THROUGH THE CUMBERLAND VALLEY
Published: July 14, 1863
HARRISBURGH, Sunday, July 12, 1863.
I have easily ascertained that Chambersburgh is no place for a newspaper correspondent -- not because there is no news, but because of the great difficulty of getting it off. The mails are the essence of irregularity, and the telegraph line is troubled with the same foible. The railroad trains run from twice to ten hours a day from Shippensburgh, which is eleven miles away, and the telegraph office itself is five miles distant. A four-footed beast, which is not in the employ of the Government, is as impossible to find as the philosopher's stone, and therefore it is impossible to reach the army at Waynesborough. So I left my more sanguine brethren in camp, and took the back track yesterday. We were preceded, a part of the way, by 230 rebel prisoners, who were marched up the road under a guard of cavalry. By a very neat arrangement, for which I think some one must be intentionally responsible, they were put on the road in time to meet some nine or ten of the new militia regiments, on their way from Shippensburgh to the front. The road was nearly filled with them. We met a regiment almost every mile, dressed in neat, new uniforms, and furnished with nice, bright rubber blankets -- a fact well calculated to induce some very salutary reflections in the minds of the dirty, footsore tatterdemalions that were forced relentlessly along the dusty turnpike. Most of these prisoners had passed through all those places when LEE first started, a month ago, on his grand carter of invasion and conquest. Then they were defiant, saucy and confident of success -- now considered, broken ??? prisoners of war. Then they ??? in the promised prospect of reaping this bounteous harvest spread out on all sides before their eyes -- and now they marched in dreary procession through a lane of men, women and children waving Union flags in their faces, and shouting for joy at the happy deliverance from the woes supposed a few weeks ago to be in store for them.
is always delightful, particularly if one has time to stop and talk with the inhabitants, and more still in an exciting time like the present, when they have just been made the subjects for future history. They are a queer set of people -- simple-minded and hospitable, living almost luxuriantly, but still entirely unacquainted with the ways of the world, knowing something in a general way of what is going on in the world, but for the most part confining their intensest interests and affections to the "Walley," as they always call it. In fact, it almost seems as though their life-experience was confined within the granite walls that bound their vision on either side of their homes. Look where you will, your eye meets the long solid range of mountains on either side of the Valley, and imagination only can penetrate to what lies beyond, while every desire can be satisfied without passing those towering barriers. The features of the landscape seem to react upon the minds of the inhabitants, and add another illustration to the famous theory which RUSKIN has so powerfully set forth. An instance occurred on my ride. Half way to Shippensburgh a farmer came on board the stage. He was going to hunt up the horses he had sent north. He seemed bound up in those four horses, and yet he owned two hundred acres of land in the "Walley," worth at least $25,000. He declared in the most energetic manner that he would give $5,000 out of his own pocket if the war was over. He was extremely anxious to see the war terminated, and asked everybody's opinion as to when that happy time would arrive. He was quite voluble but did not seem to have any idea what the rebellion was about, for he made no reference to its origin or principles; he only "wished it was over." The true reason, I think, that so many Copperheads were found in this valley was because they thought the South was certain to succeed, and they wanted to help the rebels along, so that the war "might be soon over." This man had Gen. JENKINS at his house, and it was curious to see the mingled feeling of self-gratulation at having so formidable a protector in his house, and of vanity at having entertained a General. He knew the name of every inhabitant and the size of every farm in the "walley," but, although I did not ask him the question, I do not believe he knew whether Chicago was in New-York or Illinois. He may, however, have had a vague idea that it was somewhere west, and competed with him in raising grain. He was a fair specimen of his class, though the young people in his region may be more favored in point of education, and therefore more progressive than their ancestors. I am inclined to think that the majority of the inhabitants are un- redeemably "conservative."
REPORTS FROM HARRISBURGH
Published: July 14, 1863
HARRISBURGH, Penn., Monday, July 13.
A gentleman who left Waynesboro on Sunday, at noon, furnishes the following:
It is understood that the rebels, in failing back to the line of the Conocheague River from Antietam, encountered the forces of Gen. MULIIGAN, and after several skirmishes in the vicinity of Clear Spring, retired to the eastward. This accounts, no doubt, for the reoccupation of Hagerstown by Gen. EWELL.
The position of the rebels is now reduced to a space of six miles by nine in which to manoeuvre.
The rebels have no naturally strong defensive points left to them, and it is believed by persons in official position they cannot possibly escape capture or annihilation.
The report that a large number of rebels had crossed the Potomac with a wagon train is believed to be entirely false, as there is nothing to cross the river with except a rope ferry.
Two hundred Federal prisoners who refused to take their parole from the rebels were crossed on this ferry on Thursday evening.
Capt. NORRIS, who succeeded in making his escape, brought information that as far as he observed there was no considerable rebel force on the south bank of the Potomac.
The Grey Reserves and Blue Reserves, of Philadelphia, went on a reconnaissance in force on Saturday toward Hagerstown, and succeeded in opening communication with the Army of the Potomac, and captured several prisoners.
Several soldiers were complimented by the Corps Commanders for their excellent behavior.
A gentleman who has just arrived from the Antietam Valley reports that a heavy thunderstorm visited that region on Saturday and Sunday evenings. The rain fell in torrents for hours, and the mountain streams are again much swollen.
The Brooklyn Thirteenth.
Published: July 14, 1863
The following extract from a letter just received from an officer in the Thirteenth regiment National Guard, will be of interest to the friends of the members.
SOUTH MOUNTAIN, Tuesday, July 7, 1863.
During the night of the 3d inst. we left Harrisburgh, passing through Carlisle on the 4th, and to-day have reached this place. It has rained incessantly ever since we started and you can imagine the present state of the roads. In one day we crossed six fords, at times up to our waist, and have marched for miles in mud over our shoe-tops. In fact, many of the boys have lost their shoes entirely in the mud. Occasionally our tents overtake us when we halt for the night, and if so, we pitch them at once and strike them the next morning and "move on." At other times we throw ourselves upon the bare ground and so take what sleep we can. As I write now, I am sitting on a stone with my India-rubber blanket suspended over me, to keep my sheet of paper dry, while I scribble away with my pencil. Our Commissary wagons cannot get through the mud as fast as we can, and are miles to the rear. Consequently our only food is "hard crackers," together with what little we can pick up on the road, and the rebels have not left much I can assure you. We know nothing about our destination, but the boys are in first-rate spirits, making the best of everything, and are longing for a sight of the faces of some part of the rebel army."
A letter one day later, since received, is dated, Funksville, Md.
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"My goal is to live forever. So far, so good.
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