Harrisburg Pennsylvania

 

This Site:

Civil War

Civil War Overview

Civil War 1861

Civil War 1862

Civil War 1863

Civil War 1864

Civil War 1865

Civil War Battles

Confederate Generals

Union Generals

Confederate History

Robert E. Lee

Civil War Medicine

Lincoln Assassination

Slavery

Site Search

Civil War Links

 

Civil War Art

Revolutionary War

Mexican War

Republic of Texas

Indians

Winslow Homer

Thomas Nast

Mathew Brady

Western Art

Civil War Gifts

Robert E. Lee Portrait


Civil War Harper's Weekly, May 11, 1861

This Civil War Harper's Weekly has a variety of important stories and pictures. It shows the events unfold as they happened and are reported to eye-witnesses to the events. The paper covers the Battle of Harper's Ferry, one of the early conflicts in the war. It also has important content on the Annapolis Naval Academy and scenes of the destruction of the Norfolk Navy Yard.

 

 

Colonel Ellsworth

Colonel Ellsworth

Virginia Secession

Virginia Secession

Slave and Free States

Halltown, Virginia

Halltown Virginia

Harper's Ferry

The Battle of Harper's Ferry

Annapolis

Annapolis Naval Academy

Annapolis

Annapolis Maryland

Norfolk Navy Yard

The Destruction of the Norfolk Navy-Yard

Brooklyn

The Brooklyn Armory

New York

New York Civil War Scene

St. Louis

Saint Louis Arsenal

Harrisburg Pennsylvania

Harrisburg Pennsylvania

Steamship Boston

Steamship Boston

 

 

MAY 11, 1861.]

HARPER'S WEEKLY.

301

CAMP CURTIN,  HARRISBURG. PA.

WE publish herewith, from a drawing made on the spot, an illustration of Camp Curtin, a rendezvous of the Pennsylvania Volunteers. At this place Governor Curtin is understood to have collected some eight or ten thousand volunteers, and more are flocking in daily—horse, foot, and artillery. A large number of experienced drill-sergeants are busy from daylight till dark drilling the men, who go through the unaccustomed labor with cheerfulness, and only ask to be led forward. A gentleman who has just returned from Harrisburg writes as follows respecting the other camps of the Pennsylvania troop.

" This State has in the neighborhood of seventeen thousand already in the field, and thousands more begging for the opportunity of marching. They have full six thousand stationed at Camp Scott, near York, under the command of Generals Wynkoop and Negley. There are twenty-six hundred at Camp Slifer, near Chambersburg, under the command of General E. A. Williams, one of the officers of the Pennsylvania volunteers in the Mexican War, who has Colonel J. J. Patterson for his aid. Scattered along between Elkton, Perryville and Philadelphia are six thousand more, and there are one or two regiments from Ohio near Lancaster, with some twelve hundred United States troops at Carlisle Barracks."

 

[Entered according to Act of Congress, in the Year 1860, by Harper & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.]

GREAT EXPECTATIONS.

A NOVEL.
BY CHARLES DICKENS.

Splendidly Illustrated by John McLenan.

Printed from the Manuscript and early Proof–sheets purchased from the Author by the Proprietors of "Harper's Weekly."

 

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

I WAS three-and-twenty years of age. Not another word had I heard to enlighten me on the subject of my expectations, and my twenty-third birthday was a week gone. We had left Barnard's Inn more than a year, and lived in the Temple. Our chambers were in Garden Court, down by the river.

Mr. Pocket and I had for some time parted company as to our original relations, though we continued on the best terms. Notwithstanding my inability to settle to any thing—which I hope arose out of the restless and incomplete tenure on which I held my means—I had a taste for reading, and read regularly so many hours a day. That matter of Herbert's was still progressing, and every thing with me was as I have brought it down to the close of the last chapter.

Business had taken Herbert on a journey to Marseilles. I was alone, and had a dull sense of being alone. Dispirited and anxious, long hoping that tomorrow or next week would clear my way, and long disappointed, I sadly missed the cheerful face and ready response of my friend.

It was wretched weather; stormy and wet, stormy and wet ; and mud, mud, mud, deep in all the streets. Day after day a vast heavy veil had been driving over London from the East, and it drove still, as if in the East there were an Eternity of cloud and wind. So furious had been the gusts that high buildings in town had had the lead stripped off their roofs ; and in the country, trees had been torn up, and sails of wind-mills carried away ; and gloomy accounts had come in from the coast of shipwreck and death. Violent blasts of rain had accompanied these rages of wind, and the day just closed as I sat down to read had been the worst of all.

Alterations have been made in that part of the Temple since that time, and it has not now so lonely a character as it had then, nor is it so exposed to the river. We lived at the top of the last house, and the wind rushing up the river shook the house that night like discharges of cannon or breaking of a sea. When the rain came with it and dashed against the windows, I thought, raising my eyes to them as they rocked, that I might have fancied myself in a storm-beat. en light-house. Occasionally the smoke came rolling down the chimney as though it could not bear to go out into such a night ; and when I set the doors open and looked down the stair-case, the staircase lamps were blown out ; and when I shaded my face with my hands and looked through the black windows (opening them ever so little was out of the question in the teeth of such wind and rain), I saw that the lamps in the court were blown out, and that the lamps on the bridges and the shore were shuddering, and that the coal fires in barges on the river were being carried away before the wind like red-hot splashes in the rain. I read with my watch upon the table, purposing to close my book at eleven o'clock. As I shut it, Saint Paul's, and all the many church-clocks in the City—some leading, some accompanying, some following—struck that hour. The sound was curiously flawed by the wind; and I was listening, and thinking how the wind assailed it and tore it, when I heard a footstep on the stair. What nervous folly made me start, and awfully connect it with the footstep of my dead sister, matters not. It was past in a moment, and I listened again, and heard the footstep stumble in coming on. Remembering then that the staircase-lights were blown out, I took up my reading-lamp and went out to the stair-head. Whoever was below had stopped on seeing my lamp, for all was quiet. "'There is some one down there, is there not ?" I called out, looking down. "Yes," said a voice from the darkness beneath. "What floor do you want ?"

Camp Curtin, Harrisburg Pennsylvania


 

 

site stats

 

Site Copyright 2003-2018 Son of the South. For Questions or comments about this collection,

contact: paul@sonofthesouth.net

privacy policy

Are you Scared and Confused? Read My Snake Story, a story of hope and encouragement, to help you face your fears.