[newspaper clipping continued: first column]
hands to the left. Of course I found it full of blue-
coats. From them and from a negro I obtained the
following particulars relative to the recent occupancy
of the larger tenement:
One Richard�popularly known as Dick�Faren-
hote owned the place, together with nine negroes,
comprising three �boys,� two old men, one woman,
and three children. He was a Secessionist, though
of no particularly violent character. On the day of
the arrival of the Union troops, two of the Rebel
cavalry were quartered at his house. These, unable
to induce their horses to swim Wormley Creek, did
so themselves, and escaped Yorktown, in which
they were imitated by Farenhote. When our men
appeared (Captain Town of the 3d Pennsylvania
Cavalry secured the horses) they found only Mrs.
Farenhote, her niece (a child), and the negroes. She
avowed her sympathies with the rebellion, talked as
Virginian women of her stamp always do talk, and
presently took refuse in one of the negro huts, sub-
sequently removing to the house of a relative. Fa-
renhote is now a private in the Rebel army. his
place was known to the neighborhood by the appro-
priate title of Waterview Farm.
Apropos of this locality, since I began this letter,
a story has been communicated to me worth relating,
and indicative that the Rebels scarcely need be be-
holden to us harmless newspaper correspondents for
information as to our strength and doings. It seems
that a couple of negroes, familiar for some days
about our camp, took beat at Waterview, under the
pretext of dredging for oysters. When at sufficient
distance, they rowed off to the direction of York-
[newspaper clipping continued: second column]
town, nor have they since returned. This is said to
have occurred to-day.
I shall close my letter with two somber incidents
worth a whole folio of declamation on the horrors of
war. Yesterday morning, just before my setting off
upon the ride I have described, there was brought
into the little chamber of the log hut in which I now
write, a lad of sixteen, belonging to the 105th Penn-
sylvania Regiment. He could not walk�could
hardly speak; his pulse beat so feebly as to be
scarcely perceptible. his body was chilled through
and through by the rain, by lying upon the damp
earth through the dreadful night; he had been on
picket duty on Sunday night. The humane doctor of
the regiment looked at him, pronounced him almost
gone, prescribed brandy, tried stimulants, external
and internal, in the hope to produce a reaction. In
an hour and a half the boy died. His name was J.
G. Trampton, of Jefferson County, Pennsylvania.
Yesterday, too, a soldier (I do not know his name,
and suppress that of his regiment) died of typhoid
fever in the wooden church adjacent, used as a hos-
pital. His corpse, wrapped up in a coat or cloak,
was removed to a bench at the end of this hut,
where it lay unguarded, uncared for, throughout the
night. The sick men in the hut (one chamber is a
hospital) got up and drove the dogs away; what they
had assembled for, the soul shudders to think of. I
saw the body lying on its bench in the forenoon, as
late as 10 o�clock, an hour before it was placed in a
rough pine coffin.
Both man and boy rest under the damp earth of
the adjacent field, once a Rebel camp, and, as I
write, the night wind wails drearily over them.
[Gunn�s diary continued]
and Webb�s, New York. He was not sutler
of the 66th N.Y. A ride back, Rogers and
Heichhold ahead, I in company with Marks.
Together the chaplain and I visited the 3rd
Penn cavalry, finding Bement and Hall there.
The latter had just returned form his yesterday�s
visit to Keyes and Smith�s men on our left, in
company with Wallington, who had remained
there. Hall and I supped with Bement, re-
turning at night to our own quarters. I am
permanently domiciled at Heichhold�s hut.