July 2, 1863, The New York Herald
THE SEVENTY-FIRST IN PENNSYLVANIA.
OUR HARRISBURG CORRESPONDENCE.
HARRISBURG, June 30, 1863.
You may have heard the word ‘refugee,’ but I am sure you know but little of its real meaning. Picture to yourself, if you can, a long line of men, women, cows, sheep, chairs and babies, covered with a clowd of dust, trying hard to look tranquilly, but really appearing ridiculously […..], and you have the scene, which the […..] from Cumberland county momentarily present in their hurried flight across thee Susquehanna. When we first arrived in this city, the apathy and listless indifference which its inhabitants exhibited was truly painful, they would collect around the corners at early dawn, and sticking there till dusk, would discuss every silly rumor that reached them with staring eyes and gaping cheeks. This was some ten days ago; as the enemy neared the river, you could detect an anxious nervousness on their faces, which has at last budded into something like a show of patriotism. Yesterday and Sunday, the streets were filled with a motley crowd of citizens, all armed with muskets, and as they were formed into company’s they would be immediately marched across the river. The old men of 1812 formed in the market place this morning, each with a loaded piece, and as the seamed and gray-haired veterans went through the company movements, which many had not forgotten, the scene in its terrible and touching reality almost approached the solemn. The Governor addressed them, remarking at the same time upon the goodness of Providence for sending rain at such a time to swell the river.
The Seventy-first regiment New York State Militia has indeed seen hard, hard work, from the time they left New York till now. They have been in the extreme advance, and instead of looking like the prim, elastic stepped [….] they are when they are marching Broadway, they now resemble huge, dirty looking, mud bedraggled blue fleas. They have been driven gradually back before the advancing foe from Chambersburg to their present intrenchments, a distance of nearly sixty miles. Most of their marches have been made in the dead of night, accompanied by incessant rain and mud, mud, mud, followed by a cunning and indomitable enemy, earnestly endeavoring to flank them. Once the rebels nearly succeeded, and the Seventy-first only escaped by marching […..] quick” through fields of growing grain, the rebels taking the road. On Saturday they thought that at last they were to have some rest, as they entered Oyster Point; but scarcely had they pitched their tents when the rebels commenced to shell them. The troops of course commenced an active retreat again. So they have been on the constant move ever since they left New York, never spending scarcely a dozen hours in the same place; and, believe me, none of them will regret the expiration of […..] thirty days.” I must not forget the ladies of Harrisburg in this, their kindness and generosity being beyond all praise, and their constant and appreciated attentions being unremitting. Their houses are thrown open to the boys, giving up their own beds to them, with meals always ready, and their whole conduct being so warm and nobly patriotic as to make them feel, in accepting their hospitalities, as if each man was conferring the favor. They express themselves in terms of the loudest indignation towards the men of this city for their tardiness in coming forward.