FORTRESS MONROE, JUNE 7, 1861

To the Editor of The Boston Journal:

My mind perpetually recurs, as to a subject of constantly augmenting interest to the everlasting Ethiopian. From the veteran of eighty-five--the oldest of the corps--the the ebony youth who minds the horses at the door, every member of the Virginia Brigade is a study. "What sort of a man is your master?" asked an officer of the negro on board the little sloop brought in from James River by the Harriet Lane yesterday. "Ver bad man, sah," was the reply; "dref'l secessh--better hang him, sah, 'fore he do mischief." One who has thus far proved himself singularly useful in every service in which he has been employed, is most decidedly a character. Four years he has been a "woods nigger," that is to say, having been soundly beaten by his master once, he declared he would endure that sort of thing but once more; being badly beaten again and pickled moreover, he dissolved his connection with is master and took to the woods. Since that time he has defied all the white men in the Elizabeth City to catch him. Once he was caught and jailed, but not fancying jail life, he vanished one day. Two of the fellows came to his cell; one he knocked senseless, and while the other carried the wounded away, he escaped. He is now making himself generally useful. He can brush a coat, black boots, take charge of a wardrobe, drive hard bargains with the sutler, explain the geography of the country for fifty miles around, tell at any time just where the enemy is posted and in what force, and withall--as I am informed by his present possessor--can concoct every sort of beverage known in the Virginia vernacular, with consummate skill. If such a piece of property isn't contraband, what is?

***

Yours respectfully,

TIMOTHY GORDON
Captain Co. G. 4th Regiment