Halliburton, John Wesley, b. 1840
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Chapel Hill
April the 22nd
My Darling,
You must expect a very mixed letter tonight; for with what
political excitement has done for me, together with a little adventure of my
own invention I am in a humor for anything, and so anything either foolish or
wise (this by accident of course) may find a lodgment here. The shock of
states the war of eliments and clash of arms have failed to drive the love I
bear you one instant from my mind. I still look for your letter. I still long
to hear that you are well. I still love to hear that Cousie loves me. I have
one of the funniest adventures to tell you imaginable. One of my fellow
students, (a very simple fellow) who comes to see me every day and sometimes
sits an hour or two at night when I wish to write to you, came in last fryday
night and worried me to death almost. He talked of war, love, and politics; of
moonlight & flowers but in the dullest way in the most ignorant manner
possible. I told
Chum if he would assist me
I would promise to keep
Carter
(Mi)
away from our rooms. He said anything that he could do would be
given willingly. I told him to [go] and get
Timberlake,
Hord and
Parker and meet me at
Carter's
room. I laid hands on a bag (an old meal bag) and
with half a candle "mosied" of[f] to meet them. When we got there
Carter
wanted to know where we were going. I told him we
were going out to hunt the "
Yelpin Kechor.
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" "And what's
that" said he with staring eyes. With the utmost simplicity I told him
they were a curious kind of "
B-i-r-d" and it was considered the most
enchanting sport in the world to catch them.
He asked if he could go with us. I told him if he would get another
bag and candle he could help me "hold bags." "How! do you take
them in Bags?" said he. "Yes", said I, "you take the candle
lighted and place it on a stump and hold the bag open close to it then while
the other hunters go round and beat the bushes you must be
perfectly still or
else the birds wont come up
to
the
light where you can put them in your
bag." "I'll go" said he. "All aboard" said I. We
jumped in a hack and went out about 8 miles and stoped, jumped out, struck a
match, lit our candles and
Carter
and I took our places about fifty-yards apart (at
least so that we could see each other's candles). Then after cautioning him
about silence— the "drivers", we called them, went around
beating the bushes and driving the birds to the "bagers." Well in a
few minutes I lef[t] my candle on the stump, took my bag, ran to the hack where
all but
Carter
had come and then we drove for the Hill as hard as we could drive
leaving poor
Carter
alone in the woods after "Yelpin
Ketchers." He stayed and stayed hoping and listening for us. But my candle
was there and he thought I must surely be. We went on to town then it was
12.O.C. I guess, and got some more boys, all took muskets and went to meet
Carter
. About 2.
O.C. we met him puffing
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and blowing. We stoped on the side of
the road and
Carter
came by talking of what a Summary venjeance he
would take on us — and our bad frindship in leaving him where he might be
"shot by any runaway or robber." Just as he said this one of us fired
off our musket — and
Carter
uttered a yell that would shame any Indian warrior
or Steamboat and broke for Home with us at his heels, a real "
John Gilpin" race.
Now and then we would fire off a musket and shout out "sieze him Bob! or
Sam or Bulzebub" and
Carter
would only run faster and holler louder: at last he
got to his room and he is on the bed yet and swares that he will never speak to
Hord,
Timberlake,
Wesson,
Parker or
Halliburton
again. We same five had another adventure a few days ago but
I can't tell it now.
I received a letter from
Lucinda Lucas this
evening. It is a good letter compared with some she has written. Indeed I think
she is improving in all but penetration. I will "a tale unfold" some
day that will make you think me a "strange man." "Man" I
say for I was 21 years old last Saturday. Ain't you glad! In the mean time you
will please write to
Cinda. She appears to be
anxious to hear from you. She will help us enjoy ourselves perhaps some day.
Write to her Darling. Write to all your old friends. A little word now
and then will make you many a friend and it is my desire that all should be
friends to you.
Everybody here is talking about war. Many have gone to hunt it up.
"To seek the bubble reputation e'en
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in the canon's mouth." I shall
wait until June and then if needs be will offer my services to
Tenn.
I made my maiden speech last Saturday on my birth day. A Secession
Flag was raised and two young ladies made a speech then our President and a few
other old men. A few boys were called on (students I mean) and then I was asked
to speak but declined as I was not in favor of Secession. They insisted and for
five minutes I told them how I loved
the Union, and then thinking of your piece of poetry at
Brownsville, I expressed my
willingness to die
"For the Union of hearts the Union of hands,
And the
Flag of our Union forever."
I was taken up by some boys and rode around on their shoulders
— they carried me to the ladies who gave me a Boquett but it was a
secession boquett and could not sail under the "Star Spangled Banner"
fastened to my hat. One young man hissed me and was knocked down for his pains
by
Timberlake (my dearest
friend). All were astonished that I should be the only Union man in the crowd.
I heard of two or three fights that evening.
Timberlake and I went in a
crowd of countries and I pretended that a secession flag should not be raised
while I could prevent it. He implored me to desist. I would be killed. The old
fellows swore the flag should go up if I was killed. One old fellow came up and
said "My young friend you are alone I believe but I will fight wit you
— I will see you have fair play." I thanked him and told him to come
on but we were persuaded to let it alone. We were trying them you know. I
carried that fellow to my room and we are the best of friends. He thinks I a
perfect hero what do you think of