New Hampshire Statesman

Correspondence of the Statesman.

NO. 11.

Visit to the New-Hampshire Second—Its spirit, discipline and efficiency—General Hooker—What he said of the regiment and its officers—A good Yankee dinner—The men and the Chaplain—Fortifications—William M. Morrison—The Duelling Ground—Corcoran's farm—The soldier's Home.

WASHINGTON, Aug. 9, 1861.

I have to-day enjoyed an exceedingly agreeable visit to the New-Hampshire Second Regiment, and in their name and my own send you greetings and words of the very best cheer from them all. And here I desire to acknowledge my indebtedness to John C. Wilson, Esq., of the Treasury Department, a true son of the Granite Hills in the largest sense of the term, who, with a fine horse, in one of Downing & Sons' Wagons, tendered me so pleasant a Sabbath-day's journey. The regiment you know is encamped at Bladensburg, about four miles north-east of the capitol. We intended to be in season to hear a sermon from Rev. Mr. Parker, who so adorns his place as Chaplain of the regiment, but were disappointed. The exercises had terminated before we arrived, and the encampment was almost as quiet and orderly as a well-regulated New-England family.

The encampment is in one of the most delightful locations in the world, and I made it my special duty to carefully inspect it, in order to give you a reliable account of its condition. It had of late been over and over again told me, by officers not connected with the regiment, that it was in the very best spirits, discipline and state of efficiency; but the half had not been told me. There is but one man seriously sick in the regiment. The War Department has just furnished them with the new Springfield rifle, and every man is ready to march. I include in this remark both officers and privates.

The Brigade to which they belong is one of the choicest in the service. The commander of the Brigade is Gen. Joseph Hooker, a brave and accomplished officer, who graduated at West Point in 1837, and who served throughout the Mexican War with the most conspicuous bravery and distinction. For his gallantry at Monterey, he was made Brevet Capt. in 1846, and further promoted Brevet Captain, Staff Asst. Adjutant General, in 1847; Brevet Major "for gallant and meritorious conduct in the affairs at the National Bridge," in June of same year, and the succeeding Sept., Brevet Lieut. Colonel, for like services at Chapultepec. He is a son of Massachusetts. His tent is with the New-Hampshire encampment, and I was honored with an interesting interview with him. He manifested evident pride in his Brigade; remarked that he would be glad to have the remainder of this month before taking his command into the fight, but that he was in good condition to move at any moment.

I asked him in what condition our regiment would be to go into action in the absence of Col. Marston. His prompt reply to me was, "Lieut. Col. Fiske is an excellent commander. I ask for no better officer. If New-Hampshire can furnish his superior I would be glad to see him." I replied, expressing my very great pleasure in finding our regiment in such admirable condition, and especially in hearing him speak so handsomely of the officer in command, and that I should take the liberty of repeating his remarks in your columns. "You are entirely at liberty to do so," said he, and then repeated his remarks in other and even more complimentary language. "It is a splendid regiment," he added, "and will do your State honor every where."

At 2 o'clock, we sat down to the very best dinner of which I have partaken since leaving New Hampshire. Col. Fiske presided at one end, and Mr. Parker at the other, while Major Stevens, Adjutant Langley and Surgeon Hubbard were posted on either side of the table, ready for the frequent flank movements which the condition of their guests stomachs—Mr. Tenney of the National Hotel, and two friends, Wilson, and yours respectfully—demanded. We had as choicely prepared roast chicken, well seasoned gravy, and royal potatoes, hot from the oven, as were ever set upon a table, and I ate the only slice of really good mince pie which I have tasted since coming to the Capital. But what especially took me was the splendid cup of tea, and—what you don't get in Washington, either good or bad—an ample plate of old-fashioned yankee doughnuts, as good as were ever cooked on any hill-side in New-Hampshire. I learned from Major Stevens that the cook, William E. Webster, accompanied the regiment from Concord.

I wish I could give some adequate idea of what I saw and heard of an inspiring nature connected with this regiment. Mr. Parker is delighted with the character and condition of it, and the soldiers all quite idolize him. The venerable John C. Rives, whose splendid country seat is near the encampment, comes regularly to the religious services in the New-Hampshire camp, and has invited Mr. Parker to send for his family, and make his house their home as long as they please. This fact is the more flattering to our regiment from the circumstance that some other regiments are nearer to the residence of the venerable patriot and statesman.

It is on Veeche's Hill, a high elevation of land nearly in front of Mr. Rives', that there is now erecting a very heavy fortification, upon which are to be mounted heavy siege guns that will command the whole surrounding country. There is a line of powerful fortifications extending from here to the Capital, and in that distance thousands of acres of heavy oak, maple and other growth, have been cut down, to open a view of the country, and make ready for any emergency. A magnificent wood lot, upon a farm belonging to Wm. M. Morrison, Esq., consisting of fifty acres, has in this way been leveled with the ground. Mr. Morrison, now retired from business, was for many years an eminent book-merchant in this city, amassing a fortune in this employment. His farm cost him more than $20,000. He has a son in command of a company of the District of Columbia volunteers, and the father, who is native of Sanbornton, and a brother of James Morrison, Esq., of Meredith Bridge, is in for the fight with a patriotic ardor worthy of a descendant of the heroes who planted the institutions, which we now defend, upon the soil of his native town.

Bladensburg is surrounded with abundant reminiscences of the most painful nature, as the seat of the "Duelling ground," the scene of so many bloody encounters in single combat. This spot, which is close to the camp, was originally selected for that purpose on account of its sequestered location. It is in a small ravine, above which are now rising the frowning battlements of Forts Dodge, on Veeche's Hill. After the passage of the act of Congress in 1839, making duelling in the District of Columbia a penal offence punishable by ten years' hard labor in the penitentiary, this place, being just over the line in Maryland, was the chosen spot for the deadly meetings, in order to evade the law, as well as from custom and the nature of the place.

The first man who fell here was Edward Hopkins, in 1814, but the first conflict of any celebrity was that between Senator A. E. Mason, of Virginia, and his sister's husband, John McCarty, in 1819. Muskets, buck shot, and positions so near each other as to hit heads if they fell on their faces, were named by McCarty, who was averse to fighting, deeming it entirely unnecessary. These conditions were modified by the seconds to bullets and twelve feet distance. Mason was shot dead, and McCarty's collar bone was broken. In 1820, Commodore Decatur was killed in the vigor of manhood and the bloom of a splendid fame, by Commodore Barron, uncle of the rebel who has just surrendered to Commodore Stringham, who, suspended from the service, wore out a miserable life, dying at Norfolk in disgrace at an advanced age. At the first fire both fell forward, with their faces within ten feet of each other, and each supposing himself mortally wounded, freely forgave the other. Decatur immediately expired, and his death filled the country with tears. In 1822, Shipman Locke fell here, by a Clerk of the Treasury, who was not hurt. In 1833, Key and Sherborn had a meeting. After exchanging shots, the latter said, "Mr. Key, I have no desire to kill you." "No matter," said Key, "I came to kill you." "Very well," said Sherborn, "then I will kill you," and he did. In 1838, Graves of Kentucky assuming the quarrel of James Watson Webb, here killed Jonathan Cilley, a Representative from Maine, which created a profound sensation throughout the country. In 1845, Jones, a lawyer, killed a Dr. Johnson. In 1851, R. A. Hoole and A. J. Dallas had a hostile meeting, in which the latter was shot in the shoulder, but not fatally. So much of duelling has been done on this spot. It was in this immediate vicinity, also, that occurred the celebrated route of the Federal volunteers, under Winder, in 1814. Nothing will make the Bladensburgers fire up quicker than to banter them about their great "race course." Upon the four mile stone, near the site of the defeat, soon after the sack of Washington, were written the following verses:

"Here fought Commodore Barney,

So nobly and so gallantly.

Against Britain's sons and slavery,

For a fighting man was he!

Here did General Winder flee,

His infantry and his cavalry,

Disgracing the cause of Liberty,

For a writing man was he!"

My good friend Wilson, who takes more interest in New-Hampshire matters than any other man in Washington, drove out to the encampment over the turnpike which leads direct to Baltimore, and back to the city by a different road; thus affording ample view of the vast preparations which have been made to deal inevitable destruction to any force that may be so presumptuous as to tread the soil with rebel feet. The country through which we rode was picturesque and exceedingly delightful. Heavy forests of towering oak and maple timber are scattered through the ravines, and on the hill sides of every farm, and with New-England culture, the land would literally bud and blossom as the rose. On our way out, the magnificent stock farm of the banker Corcoran, with its superb buildings was pointed out to me, the proprietor of which owns thousands of acres of beautiful land along the road we traveled. On our return, I pointed to the "Soldiers' Home," which is one of the most delightful spots in the country. It is here that soldiers who have faithfully served their country for a period of twenty years, or who may have been disabled in such service, find a comfortable home. To sustain this establishment in part, twelve and one half cents per month is deducted from the pay of each non-commissioned officer, musician, artificer and private in the regular service. Volunteers are not compelled to contribute thus to the Asylum, and of course it is only those who do so voluntarily that are entitled to the benefits of the Institution. You will recollect that it is at the Soldiers' Home, formerly called the Military Asylum, that the President and family usually retire, to pass the hot months of Summer. President Lincoln has this year stood day and night at his post in the Presidential Mansion.

M. B. G.