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- Aug 27, 2011
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- Central Massachusetts
Th soldier returned to his home after just over a year, the last eight months having been spent in the Prisoner of War camp in Danville, Va. He describes his homecoming, to the little town of Middleville, N.Y.:
"Reaching the village, I dismiss my driver as soon as I arrive in sight of the lighted windows in the parsonage. It is more than a year since I saw the interior of that house, and eight months since I have heard from any of its occupants. What changes may not have taken place in that interval! Is it any wonder that I do not wish any outsider to witness the meeting? The curtains are down, so I get no revelation as I approach. Drawing the cape of my overcoat above my head I advance to the door and knock. Soon a step approaches. I think it that of my father. The door opens and father stands before me. The soldier coat for a moment confuses him, but it is for a moment only, for he speedily exclaims, 'Why, my son,' and grasps me warmly by the hand. By this time I have entered the room where mother takes me to her heart as only a mother can. My sister disputes with her the possession of my head and shoulders, a seven years old brother is hugging for dear life the lower part of my body; but through all this I am sensible there is something lacking. My anxious look is detected. My eyes have indicated what my tongue dare not utter. My brother, just in his teens, is missing. Mother, whose hair has silvered rapidly during my absence, says, 'You are looking for Mort.' This was and is the home name of Mortimer, the playmate of my boyhood. 'He is not at home now. He has secured a place to work in Auburn.' What a sigh of relief I drew, for I feared that the vacancy indicated that the boy at home had succumbed to that which his soldier brother had escaped. A telegram speedily summons him, and ere many hours the family is reunited. Of the comparing of notes, of the battles fought over, of the rejoicings that home was found, why take your time to tell? They are in the lives and experiences of every listener who went to the war and then came back to his home again.
"Perhaps, however, I shall never have a better opportunity to say a word about those who saw the home side of the war. We who went down to the strife, carried the guns, and as we thought then, endured all the hardships, knew nothing of the terrible anxiety of those whom we left behind us. The great majority of the rank and file were irresponsible boys who were fairly happy when their stomachs were full and the marches were not too long. Of what a father's sensations might be I had not the slightest notion till long after the din was over. The older men of our comrades did not receive from US the consideration that I now think was their due. They were frequently laughed at as blue and gloomy when all of us would have been just the same had we had equal responsibilities. But young and old we had the consolation of action. The march, the bivouac, the fight, all these served to distract the mind and prevent its dwelling on thoughts which brought heaviness. Not so in the home. There a never wanting sense of loneliness abode. The one absent in body was ever present in mind. The danger to which he was exposed was, if possible, magnified till the anxious soul fairly consumed itself in its ceaseless vigils. Every report of new movements at the seat of war, brought with it the wonder whether the dear one would be endangered, and of these contemplated movements those at home knew vastly more than did we ourselves, who were actors in the drama. How the papers were read! The popular newspaper era in this country may be said to date from the days of the war, when the correspondent learned what the people wanted for news. Was there a battle! With what feverish haste the paper was devoured,dreading, fearing, lest the name dearest of all may appear among the fatalities."
Roe presented his memoirs in the form of four talks before the Rhode Island Soldiers' and Sailors' Historical Society, between the years 1885 and 1893. I have recently transcribed and put online all four parts:
Recollections of Monocacy
From Monocacy to Danville: or, a trip with the Confederates
In a Rebel Prison: or, Experiences in Danville
and
Richmond, Annapolis, and Home, [from which the above excerpt is taken.]
They can be read, along with a few other shortpieces, through A Civil War Miscellany.
"Reaching the village, I dismiss my driver as soon as I arrive in sight of the lighted windows in the parsonage. It is more than a year since I saw the interior of that house, and eight months since I have heard from any of its occupants. What changes may not have taken place in that interval! Is it any wonder that I do not wish any outsider to witness the meeting? The curtains are down, so I get no revelation as I approach. Drawing the cape of my overcoat above my head I advance to the door and knock. Soon a step approaches. I think it that of my father. The door opens and father stands before me. The soldier coat for a moment confuses him, but it is for a moment only, for he speedily exclaims, 'Why, my son,' and grasps me warmly by the hand. By this time I have entered the room where mother takes me to her heart as only a mother can. My sister disputes with her the possession of my head and shoulders, a seven years old brother is hugging for dear life the lower part of my body; but through all this I am sensible there is something lacking. My anxious look is detected. My eyes have indicated what my tongue dare not utter. My brother, just in his teens, is missing. Mother, whose hair has silvered rapidly during my absence, says, 'You are looking for Mort.' This was and is the home name of Mortimer, the playmate of my boyhood. 'He is not at home now. He has secured a place to work in Auburn.' What a sigh of relief I drew, for I feared that the vacancy indicated that the boy at home had succumbed to that which his soldier brother had escaped. A telegram speedily summons him, and ere many hours the family is reunited. Of the comparing of notes, of the battles fought over, of the rejoicings that home was found, why take your time to tell? They are in the lives and experiences of every listener who went to the war and then came back to his home again.
"Perhaps, however, I shall never have a better opportunity to say a word about those who saw the home side of the war. We who went down to the strife, carried the guns, and as we thought then, endured all the hardships, knew nothing of the terrible anxiety of those whom we left behind us. The great majority of the rank and file were irresponsible boys who were fairly happy when their stomachs were full and the marches were not too long. Of what a father's sensations might be I had not the slightest notion till long after the din was over. The older men of our comrades did not receive from US the consideration that I now think was their due. They were frequently laughed at as blue and gloomy when all of us would have been just the same had we had equal responsibilities. But young and old we had the consolation of action. The march, the bivouac, the fight, all these served to distract the mind and prevent its dwelling on thoughts which brought heaviness. Not so in the home. There a never wanting sense of loneliness abode. The one absent in body was ever present in mind. The danger to which he was exposed was, if possible, magnified till the anxious soul fairly consumed itself in its ceaseless vigils. Every report of new movements at the seat of war, brought with it the wonder whether the dear one would be endangered, and of these contemplated movements those at home knew vastly more than did we ourselves, who were actors in the drama. How the papers were read! The popular newspaper era in this country may be said to date from the days of the war, when the correspondent learned what the people wanted for news. Was there a battle! With what feverish haste the paper was devoured,dreading, fearing, lest the name dearest of all may appear among the fatalities."
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Alfred Seelye Roe was a private in Co. A, 9th N. Y. Heavy Artillery. Early in July, 1864, he, with his regiment, were pulled out of the line at Petersburg, and sent north, to help defend Washington against Jubal Early's army. Fighting as infantry, the 9th Heavy's experience at the battle of Monocacy was brief, and calamitous. Private Roe and most of his comrades were taken prisoner, and marched off into Virginia.Roe presented his memoirs in the form of four talks before the Rhode Island Soldiers' and Sailors' Historical Society, between the years 1885 and 1893. I have recently transcribed and put online all four parts:
Recollections of Monocacy
From Monocacy to Danville: or, a trip with the Confederates
In a Rebel Prison: or, Experiences in Danville
and
Richmond, Annapolis, and Home, [from which the above excerpt is taken.]
They can be read, along with a few other shortpieces, through A Civil War Miscellany.
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