Newspaper Page Text
"TO CARE FOR HIM WHO HAS BORNE THE BATTLE, AND FOR HIS WIDOW AND ORPHANS."
WASHINGTON", D. C, SATUJRDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 7, 1881. NEW SEBIES. V-I., N- 5.
THE GROTON CENTENNIAL.
HOW THE BRITISH TOOK THE TOWN.
Arnold's Shame and England's Dishonor General Han
ley's Speech Scenes and Incident, of the
Occasion What Gen. Sherman Said.
From Army and Navy Journal.
Thirty thousand persons were present at the
Centennial celebration, on Tuesday and Wednes
day, of the burning of New London and the cap
ture of Fort Griswold, on Groton Heights.
The view of the shipping Monday evening.
ument Hill, the Tennessee, flying the flag of ;
Rear-Admiral Wyman : the Vandalia, the Kear
sarge, the Yantic, the Constitution, the .St. Marys
and the revenue cutters Dexter and Grant. The
Tennessee was under the command of Capt. Mc
Crea, and the Constitution under that of Captain
Luce. This latter ship is herself almost a cen
tn,,nr;on Ttrvcwlpq tlip;p there were in the harbor '
the steamers City of Lawrence, Narragansett,
Francis, America, and many others, besides sev
- nrhprs besides sev-
eral steam-yachts and about 75 sailing vessels.
Shortly after sunrise, on Tuesday, the ball was
opened by a salute of twenty-one guns from the
men-of-war anchored in the lower harbor. The
echo was taken up by the church-bells and steam
boat and locomotive whistles, and for an hour the
din was indescribable. At half-past nine o'clock
the sham battle on the New London side of the
river began. Members of the local Grand Army
post who were to represent the Continentals, were
stationed near the site of what was Fort Nonsense
on Town Hill at the time of
THF. ACTUAL ENGAGEMENT.
The British troops were represented by the '
when the lights were burning, was very pretty. " .I"1" IU U'VU1WU1'11 1UIU lu ""-' ucau' '" ""
There were at anchor at the foot of Groton Mon- Xew England spirit that placed upon yonder emol
Third regiment of the Connecticut National ll common country, aim iei uiu pime .e m oui
i . of vontti. Pninnpi Wm TT countrv. not of our State." The General ate din
Guard, now m camp at 1 antic, Colonel wm. n. .' , , , . m in i
Tubbs bein.- supposed to be Arnold. The details with Colonel Frank at Fort Trumbull, and
ofthefi-ht were carried out. the Continentals sue- when a reporter drove out was standing in the
oessively retirin- from each' of the three positions middle of Colonel Frank's parlor, surrounded by
where a stand was made in the original battle, a bevy of ladies. One of the officers of the fort,
Trunin- nnall the while an irregular fire with '. who happened to be standing in the doorway, car-
blankrtridges. When flifr engagement on thej. "-". ' . TW'P4
NewlSnTon side was finished the troops were ffonc fo orcester,- said General Sherman. But
---x O -t
fionnrfiil nf.rfws the river in ferrv-boats. and
the battle was resumed by an assault on Fort
Griswold. Four brass cannons were at the em-
brasure, manned by the men of the First U. S.
Artillery, commanded by Lieutenant Bliss. Vol
unteers from New London, Groton, and Niantic.
without uniforms, represented the Americans, (
and paraded the ramparts with dignity. On the
grounds were stacked muskets and a pile of
drums. A fenced enclosure that marked the spot
where Ledyard fell was draped with flags. Noon
came and cannon again roared. This time it was ,
a nationsl salute by Fort Trumbull and the war
ships in the harbor. General Sherman. General
Dodge, of his staff: General Wm. McKee Dunn,
Admiral Rogers, Chief Justice Waite, and Gov-
ernor Bigelow and his brilliantly uniformed staff '
appeared and took seats on a high platform north
of the fort and commanding a clear sweep of "the
field of operations that is to say.
WITHIN THE FOG LINE.
s,At about one o'clock it was noticed that the
artillerymen on the ramparts were busy, and all
along the top of the turfed walls, on t'.ie south
and east sides, suddenly appeared a fringe of heads
and muskets. Away off to the southeast, toward
the old Ledyard Cemetery, was heard a movement,
and the cry arose, "Here they come!" It was
true. Uniformed men came rushing and tumb
ling over the stone fences to clear space beyond
the walls from every place on the southeast cor
ner, and there was a fine view of the fight. The
British, so to speak, rapidly formed in line on the
south and east. This was the signal, and the '
Peabody rifles of the defenders opened upon them
a lively fusillade. The brass pieces sounded son
orous warnings to keep back. The British line
was silent for a moment, then a streak of fire ran
along it and there came to the ear the sharp crack
of musketry in the five minutes the firing con
tinued, filling the air with clouds of sulphurous
smoke, which lazily floated away across the
plateau. There was a paue, cheering was heard
along the line, and a rush was made towards
the fort. Powder flashed almost in the eyes of
the attacking party as they scrambled up the
grassy slopes, but in a few seconds they were over
into the enclosure, the defenders continuing their
fire, for they were cornered, and the gate was
forced and swept in. The flag was hauled down,
and in semblance of the massacre the British fire
continued and thai of the defenders (ell oft' to an
occasional shot. These ceased, and the victors
-Miid the massacred were soon in social confab
EXCHANGING INCIDENTS AND TOIIACCO."
The civic portion of the celebration took place
in the afternoon, in a pavillion on Groton Heights,
and included a speech by Senator ! rawley, a poem
by Mrs Rose Terry Cook, and brief addresses by
General Sherman and other distinguished guests, ,
interspersed with music from the First Artillerv
band. General Hawley said :
We come here with no mouldy griefs nor re
venges. We are here to worship courage, honor,
freedom: to salute the names of the glorious
dead of our State and blood and faith who set
tins example before the generations of fresh, open-
eyed lads who arc to have the defense of a land
of immeasurable greatness. See the illustrious
roll. Fourteen of the dead and three of the
r1" h ,c .r "p1
the name oi Avery, six the na
:iin. JMeven oore
une of Perkins. '
Daniel Williams, of Saybrook, died there at the
age of fifteen ; Thomas Averv at seventeen ; Bel
ton Allyn at sixteen; Thomas Starr, Jr., at '
eighteen : E. Perkins at sixty-four : Thomas Wil
liams at sixty ; and James Comstoek at seventy
five. It is averred that sixty of the dead and
wounded were members of the Congregational
churches of Groton and New London. I con
gratulate you of these beautiful and now peaceful
towns upon your remembrances of this day. I
congratulate many of you upon the names you
bear and the ancestry of whom you are proud, i
-ir : . : .. i ,..i..j. i ,m. ,i.,;i ; v.rv
.eDiiion ana aptnaii were apeopie max,
jeoparded their lives unto the death in the
"HIGH PLACES OF THE FIELD."
General Sherman was loudly called for, and the
audience cheered him as he stepped forward. "You
tender-hearted people," he said, " make a great ado
when an expedition is sent out against the In
dians, eiflier in this country or foreign lands, and
General Hawley has been giving you such a flat-
lering account oi yoursejves tnat you voiiuecucui;
folks think you are tremendously good people.
You and General Hawley forget that vour ances
tors waged the same warfare against the Pequots,
drove them from their homes and took possession
of their land, and that at a time when there was
less reason for driving the Indians than there is
now. I came near being a Connecticut man my
self, for my grandparents lived in this State, but
the English burned their cabin, and they emi
grated to Ohio, and I was born there. It was
the same thing in Ohio with the Indians. The
whites took away their lands in the northern
part of the State. I don't like to see this State
Ple- w should remember that we all belong
hears what you say; " I can't help it.'' said the
General, " I am m A orcester.'
At the close of the exercises in the pavillion a
review was held ; the day closed with a brilliant
display of fire-works from the heights on both
sides of the river and the shipping in the harbor.
Among the distinguished visitors present, besides
those already mentioned, were Vice -Admiral
Rowan and General Anson G. McCook.
A NEW FLAG-SHIP FOR EUROPE.
The United States frigate Lancaster, which has
recently been thoroughly overhauled, and which
has received extensive repairs and new machinery ,
and boilers, sailed recently from Portsmouth '
(N. 1L) Navy Yard. She will sail in about
ten days for the Mediterranean, as the flag-ship of
the European squadron, which will be com- '
manded by Commodore J. W. A. Nicholson, re- ,
cently in command of the Brooklyn Navy Yard,
who will receive his promotion to Rear-Admiral -on
October 1 .
The Lancaster is comparatively a new vessel,
having been actually rebuilt .since her last cruise.
New methods for ventilating the several parts of
the vessel have been added, and it is believed that
there will be no danger of foul air from the bilges,
which has proven so detrimental to the health of
ship's crews in naval vessels. The officer's quar
ters, as well as those for the crew, are fitted up
in a manner to aftbrd greater comfort, light and
entilation. The quarters of the admiral and
captain are on the spar deck, and are handsomely
furnished; they have electric bells communicat-
ingwith the various departments of the vessel.'
New inventions for working the broadside and '
pivot guns have been added, so that they can be
run in and out, elevated and depressed with the
force of two or three men only. The vessel has
eight broadside and two pivot guns, which have
been converted into rifles. She is also fitted
with a ram on the bow, and with torpedo bars
NEW STEAMSHIPS UNDER WAY,
Boulton, Bliss & Dallett, of N. Y.. who have
started a steamship line between this city and
Venezuelan ports, and have one steamship the ,
Caraccas now running, have closed an agreement
with William Cramp & Sons, of Philadelphia, to
build a new first-class iron steamship, like the ,
Caraccas, to be finished in April. She is to be
252 fret in length, : feet beam, 20 feet depth of
hold, and of 1,500 tons capacity. She is to be '
built of the best material and with all the recent .
improvements for safety, speed and comfort.
('ramp & Sons yesterday launched at Philadel-
hia the new sle.mishi Bl.rkshire. Ibr the Mer- '
(.hants aml yUuQv Tl,ulsportatioil Companv, to ,
rilI1 ,,otwi.en ?,.lllimoiv New Vorl an(l r,ostoiK
MARCHING TO DIXIE.
-Next week a detachment of regular soldiers
will begin a march from New York to Yorkiown,
Virginia. They will nass throuirh some of the
most thickly .settled agricultural districts of
America, but the inhabitants will not have the
slightest idea as to who they are unless informed
in advance, for our army is so small that not one
person in twenty ever saw a regular.
.- ;,1 4-r. .. r-. ..r " TWH !. ,.nrn1fav T linrn
ne is nere m ine uoorwav, sam tin oincer. ami
THE PLACE WHERE LEE SURRENDERED.
McLean's House and the Historic Apple Tree Where
Grant and Lee Met to Talk (her Matters.
The Last Ditch of the Confederacy.
G. M. in Philadelphia Times.
What I take to be the common idea of the where
abouts of the out-of-the-way Court House and
its apple tree is that they are lying around loose
somewhere within an hour's ride or so of Peters
burg. At least that was my notion until I tried
to get here. I had forgotten that when Lee left
his Cockade City lines and that when Grant un
leashed his army in hot pursuit the worn veterans
of the one and the jubilant host of the other
pushed westward on level land for five full days.
So it was that when, with a fellow-traveler of
chance acquaintance, I got out of the cars at Ap
pomattox Station on the Southside Railroad I
was surprised to learn that the smoke of busy
Lynchburg could be seen on clear days just over
among the mountains to the west. The station
is a scraggy collection of stores, which apparently
have more clerks than customers. The ride
thence to the Court House is three miles north
ward, across flat fields and through thick timber.
Until we issued upon the Appomattox Valley the
only thing that relieved a trot otherwise tiresome
was the sight of a score of little darkeys
AT PLAY AROUND A SCHOOL-HOUSE.
on the top of which sat the white-haired and
strong-armed swinger of the hickory gad.
But a.s soon as we got out of the woods and
drew near the village the whole surroundings
took upon themselves that which forced our close
scrutiny and admiration. The Court House land
scape, made up of a little valley and its bordering
hills, seemed to me to be as soft and pleasant a
picture as one could wih to see. To the right
from the roadway stretch rolling lands, and to
the left are similar clearing.- with a plantation
house a quarter of a mile (lis ant, in the midst
of its field. Bevond, and iv; the direction we
were driving the road runs dovn along declivity.
;At the foot of the hill U thVnpomattox. and
crossing this stream, here a mere ri ulet, the road
ascends at slight grade until it is lost to sight in
the horizon line to the north. Up the valley are
hillocky fields, and down the valley, tthich curves
to the south, are hillside groves. Where we now
rein in our horses to get a mental picture of the
stretch of rolling earth Grant once stood, as with
field-glass he scanned the tent-dotted slope
whereon Lee's last bivouac was made. The sun
light is soft, the sky is one of pearl, the air is per
fumed with the breath of the pine, the oak and
the locust, and far away rise the Peaks of Otter,
pyramids of blue beauty, standing as sentinel
towers hard by the gateway of the sun.
Slightly below the point from which we see
these sights is the Court House village. It is
snuggled up against the hill, half way down the
slope, and is nearly hidden by shade trees. As ;
we move on we pass a grave yard that covers less
than a square rood of ground. Within the en- ,
closure, as our driver tells us, are buried the last .
victims of Lee's last campaign. The only slabs .
in the place of burial are wooden ones, and the
only tombstones are such rude rocks as have ,
been gathered from the highway. A few hun
dred yards further along the road we come to
the McLean I rouse.
THE PLACE OF STRUENDEI!.
and a moment later we hitch our horses in front of !
the Court House, in the heart of the little settle-
It is plain at first glance that the village was
built with an eye to the geometrical: The half i
acreofgraasy ground in which squats the Court
House is of octagonal cut and hedge. Four short
streets form a square around the octagon and
along the outer sides of the streets are the one
hotel, the three stores and the thirteen dwellings '
that constitute the village. The Court House is
a brick building of low pitch, in a grove of locusts.
Stone steps lead in steep succession up to a porch,
passing which, judge or jury finds himself in the
hall of jusfice.
We went to the McLean house and were
pleasantly greeted by its occupant, Mrs. X. G.
Ragland. It stands, with slight change, as it
stood at the surrender. In 18(l Wilmer McLean,
a quiet citizen, owned a farm near Bull Run
stream, in Prince William county. When on
Sunday, the 21st of July, in that year the great
armies clashed for the first time his fields were
devastated and his home despoiled. He jumped
at the conclusion that the war would be waged
in front of Washington, and so, to get away from
the fuss, he pocketed his household goods and
moved southward to the untroubled hills of Ap
pomattox. Strange does it seem that he should
have beheld the first act and the last act of the
war in Virginia, but it was immediately around .
him that the conflict had its beginning and end. I
He was at Manassas when the gay young rebel,
sashed and plumed, gave McDowell that first '
sockdolager, and he was here at Appomattox
when the same rebel ragged, shoeless, shirtless,
the recipient of a thousand blows stacked arms ,
forever. In Mrs. McLean's parlor
GRANT AND LEK MET
to agree upon the terms of surrender. The house
is a two-story brick structure, with a porch ex
tending the full length of its front. It was in- :
tended originally for a taern. The vard i? a '
APPOMATTOX COURT HOUSE.
large square grass plot, bordered by six towering
locust trees. A huge willow that stood at the
time of the surrender has been cut away, stump
and all. In the middle of the yard is a well of
sweet water. The summer house that, once
covered the well is gone. At the edge of the
porch area number of geranium pots with flowers
in bloom. The palings are white with a fresh
coat of lime, and altogether the property is as
neat and pretty as it is possible to make it A
wide hall leads from the porch through the mid
dle of the house. It was with one room only
the parlor to the left of the entrance that the
commanders had anything to do. An alleged
engraving of the historic conference hangs over
the parlor door, but the villagers say that several
of the Federal officers who show their fine uni
forms in the picture were not present except in
the engraver's accommodating eye. The room
would seat comfortably fifty or more persons.
There is a window at each end and both windows
are wide. The fireplace is screened by a pictured
board. Around the room are portraits of Rag
land and beauties and beaux, and while Mrs.
Ragland's furniture and ornaments make the
historic parlor quite pretty they also make it
commonplace. The big chair in the corner sug
gests tender courting episodes rather than
INCIDENTS OF HARD CAMPAIGNING.
A pleasant breeze was swaying the tops of the
locusts as we left the McLean house and passed
once more through the village, clear over which
my companion swore that he could knock a base
ball in sky-scraping curve. Here at this wheel
wright shop fell the dashing Root, the hist officer
of the Army of the Potomac to die. Further
along we see an oak and black gum, uninterest
ing of their own account, but which enable the
villager to get the bearings of the now up-torn
locust where (J rant and Lee first met to talk.
That spot is in an open field, about two hundred
yards north of the Court House and well down
the slope towards the Appomattox. When we
forded that stream the clear, spring water flow
ing over saudy bottom did not so much as Avet
the hubs of our buggy-wheels. It is less than
ten yards in width at this time, though in stormy
weeks, when the red soil above takes to itself
something of the fluidity as well as the color of
blood, the rivulet truly swells into a river and
passes eastward its one hundred and fifty miles
to the James witli rush and roar that tell of the
highland bed wherein it was born. The source
of the stream is three miles above a spring that
is visited daily by darkey boys who balance
buckets upon their heads with as much dexterity
as the thumb of the sweet swell at Long Branch
throws into the twirl of his cane. The spot where
STOOD LEE'S APPLE TREE
is soon reached, as leaving the creek we go a part
of the way irp the slope and halt by a roadside
orchard. Persons have said that the hole left
by the removal of the stump is now visible. If
- so it is microscopic. The driver showed us "near
'bout " and "put nigh " the place where the hole
ought to be. Tiie day after the surrender the
tree was removed, root and branch, by soldiers
who wanted relics to take home to their wives
and sweethearts. And as apple wood is apple
wood, several other trees in the same orchard
were cut up into relics also. This season a crop
of oats was taken by farmer E. G. Hicks from the
field, and Septenlber stubble now makes the
whole hillside brown. It is true that Lee held a
brief council under the apple tree, and the story
of the tree is not a myth.
The weary leader was hemmed in on all sides.
The thousand days of fighting were over and the
one day of parley had come. The Army of
Northern Virginia had spent its strength in
many manouivres. in tireless marches and in ter
HUNGRY. ORE AND SICK",
the poor remnant of a once seemingly invincible
host now, under the bright light of an April moon,
slept its lust sleep with the knapsack for its pillow.
From the apple tree the rebel chief sent out his
white sign of peace a poor, torn rag, but how fate
ful ! Riding down hill and across the stream he met
Grant near the locust. County Clerk George T.
Peers saw Grant and Lee meet. They saluted,
chatted, touched hats, wheeled and rode in oppo
site directions. To appearances, it was an ordi
nary meeting of two mounted men. Soon after
wards Lee returned from the further side of the
creek, and, with Grant, entered the McLean house.
Then the vanquished captain rejoined his com
rades, and under a poplar, now flourishing in its
growth on the farm of J. W. Flood, one mile
northeast oi the Court House, bade farewell to
Here ended the long, fierce, pitiless struggle,
which, in the record of the world's wars vastly
overtops all others. Following the lines of
scarred earth from Manassas hither, a vouth
predisposed to carp becomes aware of the small
ness of closet critics and of after-battle valiants.
He feels that the war was waged under mightv
impulse and that those who fought overcame ob
stacles to which the labors of Hercules were as
the tricks of toys. The footprints of the grand
armies will outlast the generation that made
them, and grow to gigantic breadth and import
for those who come after. Myriad graves border
the grounds of combat, but peacefully above each
battle-field the flag of the Union has its place.
Government receipts, September 15: Internal
revenue, 159,916.95; customs, $1,005,193.87.
GENERAL A. E. BUMSIDE.
DEATH OF THE SOLDIER-STATESMAN.
Hon He Died Sketch of His Life and Sen Ices Prepar
ations for His Funeral Flags at Half-Mast.
and Rhode Island In Mournins.
General A. E. Burnside died suddenly at eleven
o'clock a. in., September 13, at his residence in
Bristol, R. I . ire had been slightly unwell for two
or three days, but was in Providence the evening
prior to his death. The immediate cause of his
death was spasms of the heart. A telephone
message from the General's house summoned
Senator Anthony and Dr. Miller, but before the
telephone connection was broken a message came
that the General was dead. Governor Little
field, Senator Anthony, Representatives Chace
and Aldrich, and other personal friends imme
diately started for Bristol.
The Providence Journal gives the following
General Burnside was taken ill on Tuesday
last, but neglected to call a physician until Satur
day. Dr. Barnes, his family physician, was with
him on Saturday night, and visited him several
times Sunday night. On Monday morning he
was much improved, and, contrary to the advice
of his physician, went to Providence on Monday
afternoon, returning by the seven p. in. train.
On his return he complained of severe pains in
the region of the heart, but- Dr. Barnes was not
called until about ten o'clock this morning,
when he found him suffering severe pains similar
to neuralgia of the heart, and he expired in a
few moments. When the doctor visited his room
General Burnside remarked, "Something must
be done at once," which were the only audible
words he uttered. He was conscious, however,
until a few minutes before he expired. No one
was present when he died except Dr. Barnes and
his family servants. A dispatch was at once sent
for Mr. Renwick, a near neighbor, but he had
gone to town, and Mr. Alexander Perry, an inti
mate friend of the General, was the first to arrive,
and kindly volunteered to remain until his friends
aulvoil from Providence. .
The funeral Avill be held on Friday, at noon,
in the First Congregational Church. The remains
will lie in state in the rotunda of the city hall
from Thursday noon until Friday morning. Mili
tary and civic organizations throughout the State
are expected to participate.
SKETCH OF HIS LIFE.
Ambrose E. Burnside was born at Liberty, Ind.,
1824: entered West Point in his nine-
teenth year and graduated in 1847: served in the
Mexican and Indian wars, and resigned in 1S52
to manufacture a breech-loading rifle of his own
invention; removed to Illinois when appointed
treasurer of the Hlinois Central Railroad in 1858;
entered the Union army in April, 1861, as colonel
of the First Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry:
commanded a brigade at the first battle of Bull
Run : was promoted brigadier and major-general ;
commanded successively the expedition to North
Carolina in 1862, the left wing of the Union army
at Antietam, the Army of the Potomac, at the date
of the first battle of Fredericksburg, December,
1862, and the Ninth Army Corps, resigning in
April, i860; "Fas elected Governor of Rhode Is
land in 1366, 1867, and 1S6S; visited Europe in
1S70, and was admitted within the German and
French lines in and around Paris, acting as a
medium of communication between the hostile
nations in the interests of conciliation: was
elected to the United States Senate as a Repub
lican, to succeed William Sprague, Independent:
took his seat March 4, 1875, and was re-elected.
His term of service would have expired March 4,
HIS DEATH A SURPRISE.
General Burnside appeared to be in excellent
health when last seen in this city. The announce-
ment of his death was therefore a surprise to his
host of friends here and elsewhere. Some of his
more intimate friends, however, yere aware that
for several months past he had been acutely suf
fering from malaria and kidney troubles and a
general breaking up and debility of the system.
For the past three weeks he has been prostrated
and sinking rapidly under a complication of dis
orders. The General was in the prime of life, be
ing in his fifty-eighth year. He was a widower,
and leaves no children to enjoy his comfortable
competence. Socially he has always been a fa
vorite among his friends at West Point, his asso
ciates in the army, and his colleagues in the Sen
ate. He was neither a great general nor a great
statesman, but if not a brilliant man, he was, at
least, painstaking, honest, and sincere. He be
lieved in his country, fought for it, and legislated
for it to the best of his ability. He had niany
friends and few enemies, and all will regret his
SENATOR CONGER'S GOOD WORK.
Senatqr Omar D. Conger, of Port Huron, Mich.,
who is doing noble work in the burned district
to ameliorate the suffering, telegraphed Father
Ernest Vandyke this evening for a corps of nurses
from the Sisters of Charity of Detroit to be sent
to Minden. They will go at once. The medical
colleges of the city have sent a corps of surgeons
and a supply of medicines to the principal points
in Huron and Sanilac counties.
We have had some rain.