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Page1 - Camp, Sat Battle
Page2 - Saturday Battle
Page3 - Saturday Battle
Page4 - Saturday Battle
Page5 - Ball, Camp
Page6 - Sunday Battle
Page7 - Sunday Battle
Page8 - Sunday Battle
Page9 - Sunday Battle
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Townsends Plantation
by Azzit Mightabin
Here in the fair state of Florida it is impossible for us to fathom the utmost destruction that full-scale battles have wrought on the lands north of us. We have only seen small inland incursions by the Yankee raiders, yet they have devastating effects on the industries and the countryside. How sad must the conditions be in Virginia and Maryland? How hard must it be to survive as an innocent citizen in that war scarred atmosphere when here, we the fortunate, must search high and low for ample supplies of sugar to sweeten a simple meal.
As it might have been the warmest winter I could remember here and trying to be a helpful man, I set out for the village of Mt. Dora to check on the health of some older relatives. Truth be told I also heard that some of the finest applejack and pies come from that area and there's that old saying about 'two birds with one stone'. With a weeks pay in my pocket and 2 weeks till my next deadline I set off with no news to report, nor was looking for any. Nearing Mt. Dora, through the orchards and fields, I began to see the dust rising from many wagons and the smoke from many camp fires. Anxious to see the cause of such festivities I quickened my pace. As I drew closer it became clear to me that it was not a party of a fun sort but a small army of our own boys in gray.
This was not the typical Home Guard gathering - these were regulars from units like the Hardy's brigade. As soon as I realized this I knew it could only mean one thing - once again our simple life in the central regions of Florida were being threatened by the northern aggressors. Being a stalwart newsman and a purveyor of the truth I felt it my duty to stand in and witness any carnage to come. Sure as spots-on-a-dog I had no sooner rescued some fruit from a discarded knapsack and found myself a safe position when the Yankee's came a marching in. All trim and bright in their dark blue and red uniforms looking well fed and sure of themselves. Undoubtedly they were fresh off a ship with full knapsacks and cartridge boxes. Mind you our boys may not have been through hard campaigns as some have, but they can fight - given a fair chance. But Hardy's brigade was shorthanded - having split into 2 commands and the other half was yet a half day's march away on the road from Brooksville.
My safe position behind the lines soon became behind the enemy lines as the Union soldiers swept the battlefield clean of any resistance within an hour. Thankfully I had not recently written anything mean about the Union General that commanded the Union boys that day and though temporarily captured, I was soon set free. Indignant but free nonetheless.
The Union boys in blue were overjoyed at their easy victory and instead of taking up the chase of the Confederate forces were happy enough to camp for the night and sent back a detachment of troops to the ships with the wounded and prisoners. Unfortunately I knew they were also taking back any delicacies and supplies that I may have found in nearby Mt. Dora. Selfishly I enjoyed the campfire and food of one of their cavalry companies - not because I enjoyed Yankee company - just Yankee coffee.
During the night all the Confederate forces were reunited and the brigade was brought up to it's full strength whilst the Union side lost some numbers and was unaware of the Rebels gathering to oppose them. Throughout the Union camp the next morning much bragging was heard on just how easy the previous days battle had been - and just how far they were going to march through Florida. I heard some boys wanting to go as far as Tampa, cutting off the Confederate garrison there by land. Wanting to warn someone, I didn't quite know where to go and I sure didn't want to get caught in between two sides firing rifles again - at least not while I was still alive anyway. So I stayed my place and watched. How sad it is to see these young boys, so far from home, some with injuries that would put most of us to bed. I watched as some were placed in their final resting place in that field. I felt sorry for their plight, no matter what uniform they wore. And I felt sorry for all the Floridians who had this terrible war visited on them. I began to ruminate and wonder who my loyalties were with, or if I had any left at all.
Just as I might of been beginning to feel sorry for myself I heard gunfire and screaming and saw such a mad scrambling about the Union camp I was certain Hell itself had let loose its demons bent on revenge for all of our sins. Let me assure you that battle can instantly cure you of any ills, wills or chilblains. With a sheer mad rush the Confederates had turned my ruminations into visions of me finding a tree to hide behind. I was assured of my loyalties when I watched with pride as the worn and torn gray uniforms began to advance on the Federal invaders. They still didn't outnumber the bluecoats, but now the odds were even and it was a fair fight. The cannons boomed out with deep throats and rifles crackled throughout the field. Flaming muzzles announced the deadly missiles that flew from both. Horses screamed out their displeasure of harsh commands and men screamed out like beasts. Soon the smoke took command of the battlefield, running only from the occasional breezes and hiding amongst the tree's beside the battlefield.
Men and boys fell from both sides and the long lines of companies grew shorter as they closed ranks to fill the holes of the fallen. The Union and Confederate forces were about equal in numbers now, with more than 130 infantry for each. Each had 4 or 5 cannon and field pieces and about 8 horsemen. The difference was that the Confederates were fighting for their homes - and they fought to restore their honor from the previous day while the Union commander was undoubtedly missing the troops he had sent away. The battle soon ended with the retreat of the Federals, back to their ships and the safety of the coast. This small battle decided nothing and, like so many other skirmishes in Florida, only resulted in needless destruction and a minor interruption in the flow of materials and supplies to the big armies that fought north of here. In between hiding and ruminations, I captured 179 images
I predict that even though the North and her minions might someday control the oceans, the rivers and all else - she will never defeat Florida and never subjugate our people or capture our Capital.
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