Reminiscences of the Guilford Grays, Co. B., 27th N.C. Regiment
Reminiscences of the Guilford Grays, Co. B., 27th N.C. Regiment by John A. Sloan
Reminiscences of the Guilford Grays, Co. B., 27th N.C. Regiment by John A. Sloan
In the year eighteen hundred and sixty the military spirit was rife in the South. The clouds were threatening. No one knew what a day would bring forth. The organization, the equipment and drill of volunteer companies was, accordingly, the order of the times. The first assembly to perfect the organization of the Guilford Grays was held in the court-house in Greensboro, N.C., on the evening of the 9th of January, 1860. The meeting was presided over by General Joab Hiatt-now deceased-a favorite and friend of the young men. Gen.
Hiatt won his military laurels as commander of the militia, in the piping times of peace. Whoever has seen him arrayed in the gorgeous uniform of a militia brigadier on the field of the general muster cannot fail to recall his commanding presence. He was the proper man to fill the chair at our first meeting. James W. Albright (who is still in the flesh) acted as secretary. The usual committees were appointed. A constitution and by-laws were drafted and adopted. The constitution provided for a volunteer company of infantry, to be known as the Guilford Grays. Each member was required to sign the constitution and by-laws. The following is a complete list of the signers, in the order of their signatures:
John A. Sloan, William P. Wilson, Thomas J. Sloan, Jos. M. Morehead, John Sloan, David Gundling, Henry C. Gorrel, William U. Steiner, Otto Huber, James R. Pearce, Jas. T. Morehead, Jr., P. B. Taylor, Chas. A. Campbell, J. H. Tarpley, William Adams, James W. Albright, Maben Lamb, James Thomas, Edward G. Sterling, Jos. H. Fetzer, William P. Moring, Wilbur F. Owen, George H. Gregory, David N. Kirkpatrick, Andrew D. Lindsay, John Donnell, Benjamin G. Graham, W. W. Causey, William L. Bryan, Chas. E. Porter, John D. Smith, James R. Cole, John H. McKnight, Jed. H. Lindsay, Jr., W. C. Bourne, John A. Gilmer, Jr., Samuel B. Jordan.
The foregoing persons signed the constitution and by-laws on the 9th of January, 1860, when the company was first organized, and are entitled to the honor of being the "original panel."
The company was organized by the election of the following commissioned and non-commissioned officers, viz.:
John Sloan, Captain; William Adams, 1st Lieutenant; James T. Morehead, 2d Lieutenant; John A. Pritchett, 3d Lieutenant; Henry C. Gorrell, Ensign (with rank of Lieutenant); W. C. Bourne, Orderly Sergeant; William P. Wilson, 2d Sergeant; Samuel B. Jordan, 3d Sergeant; Geo. W. Howlett, 4th Sergeant; Thos. J. Sloan, Corporal; Benjamin G. Graham, 2d Corporal; George H. Gregory, 3d Corporal; Silas C. Dodson, 4th Corporal.
The following musicians were selected from the colored troops:
Jake Mebane, fifer; Bob Hargrove, kettle-drummer; C?sar Lindsay, base-drummer.
The anniversary of the battle of Guilford Court-House is an honored day among the people of old Guilford. It was the turning point in the future of Lord Cornwallis. When the Earl of Chatham heard the defeat announced in the House of Parliament, he exclaimed: "One more such victory would ruin the British." This battle was fought by General Greene on the 15th of March, 1781. On this anniversary, the 15th of March, 1860, our officers received their commissions from Governor Ellis. This is the date of our formal organization.
Friday night of each week was set apart for the purpose of drill and improvement. Our drill-room was in the second story of Tate's old cotton factory, where we were instructed in the various man?uvers and evolutions, as then laid down in Scott's tactics.
Early in April we received our arms, consisting of fifty stand of old flint-and-steel, smooth-bore muskets, a species of ordnance very effective at the breech. They were supposed to have descended from 1776, and to have been wrested by order of the Governor from the worms and rust of the Arsenal at Fayettsville. By the first of May we had received our handsome gray uniforms from Philadelphia. These uniforms, which we so gaily donned and proudly wore, consisted of a frock coat, single-breasted, with two rows of State buttons, pants to match, with black stripe, waist belt of black leather, cross belt of white webbing, gray cap with pompon.
Our first public parade was a day long to be remembered. It occurred on the 5th day of May, 1860. The occasion was the coronation of a May queen in the grove at Edgeworth Female Seminary. The Grays were invited by the ladies to lend their presence at the celebration, and it was whispered that we were to be the recipients of a banner.
It will be readily imagined that we were transported with the anticipation of so joyous a day. We did our best to make ourselves perfect in the drill and manual-for would not all eyes be upon us? The day came at last, and at 10 a.m. we assembled in front of the court-house. The roll was called and no absentees noted. The uniforms were immaculate, our officers wore the beautiful swords presented to them by the fair ladies of Greensboro Female College, the musket barrels and bayonets flashed and gleamed in the glorious May sunshine, and with high heads in jaunty caps, and with the proud military step, as we supposed it ought to be, we marched now in single file, and now in platoons, down the street towards the Edgeworth grounds, keeping time to the music of "Old Jake," whose "spirit-stirring fife" never sounded shriller, and whose rainbow-arched legs never bore him with such grandeur.
When we arrived at our destination, we found the beautiful green grounds, which were tastefully decorated, already filled with happy spectators. The young ladies, whose guests we were to be, were formed in procession, and were awaiting the arrival of the Queen and her suite. The appearance of this distinguished cortege on the scene was the signal for the procession to move.
The following was the order of procession:
First. Fourteen of her maids of honor.
Second. Ten Floras, with baskets of flowers, which they scattered in the pathway.
Third. Sceptre and crown-bearer.
Fourth. The Queen, with Lady Hope and the Archbishop on either side.
Fifth. Two maids of honor.
Sixth. Ten pages.
Seventh. The Military (Grays).
As the Queen advanced to the throne, erected in the centre of the grove, the young ladies greeted her with the salutation:
"You are the fairest, and of beauty rarest,
And you our Queen shall be."
Lady Hope (Miss Mary Arendell) addressed the Queen:
"O, maiden fair, with light brown hair!"
The Archbishop (Miss Hennie Erwin) then proceeded to the crowning ceremony, and Miss Mary Morehead was crowned Queen of May.
After these pleasant and ever-to-be-remembered ceremonies, the Queen (Miss Mamie) in the name of the ladies of the seminary, presented to the Grays a handsome silk flag, in the following happy speech:
"In the name of my subjects, the fair donors of Edgeworth, I present this banner to the Guilford Grays. Feign would we have it a "banner of peace," and have inscribed upon its graceful folds "peace on earth and good-will to man;" for our womanly natures shrink from the horrors of war and bloodshed. But we have placed upon it the "oak," fit emblem of the firm heroic spirits over which it is to float. Strength, energy, and decision mark the character of the sons of Guilford, whuse noble sires have taught their sons to know but one fear-the fear of doing wrong." * * * * * *
Cadet R. O. Sterling, of the N.C. Military Institute, received the banner at the hands of the Queen, and, advancing, placed it in the hands of Ensign H. C. Gorrell, who accepted the trust as follows:
"Most noble Queen, on the part of the Guilford Grays I accept this beautiful banner, for which I tender the thanks of those whom I represent. Your majesty calls to remembrance the days of 'Auld Lang Syne,' when the banners of our country proudly and triumphantly waved over our own battle-field, and when our fathers, on the soil of old Guilford, 'struck for their altars and their fires.' Here, indeed, was fought the great battle of the South; here was decided the great struggle of the Revolution; here was achieved the great victory of American over British generalship; here was evidenced the great military talent and skill of Nathaniel Greene, the blacksmith boy, whose immortal name our town bears.
"If any earthly pride be justifiable, are not the sons of Guilford entitled to entertain it? If any spot on earth be appropriate for the presentation of a "banner of peace," where will you find it, if it be not here, five miles from the battle-field of Martinsville; here at Guilford Court-House in the boro of Nathaniel Greene; here in the classic grounds of old Edgeworth, surrounded with beauty and intelligence; in the presence of our wives, our sisters, and our sweethearts. And who could more appropriately present this banner than your majesty and her fair subjects? You are the daughter of a Revolutionary mother to whom we would render all the honor due-
'No braver dames had Sparta,
No nobler matrons Rome.
Then let us laud and honor them,
E'en in their own green homes.'
"They have passed from the stage of earthly action, and while we pay to their memories the grateful tribute of a sigh, we would again express our thanks to their daughters for this beautiful banner, and as a token of our gratitude, we, the Guilford Grays, do here beneath its graceful folds pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor, and swear for them to live, them to love, and, if need be, for them to die.
"Noble Queen, we render to you, and through you to your subjects, our hearty, sincere, and lasting thanks for this entertainment; and to the rulers, in your vast domain, for the privilege of trespassing upon their provinces which lie under their immediate supervision.
"In time of war, or in time of peace, in prosperity or adversity, we would have you ever remember the Guilford Grays-for be assured your memories will ever be cherished by them."
This beautiful banner was designed by Dr. D. P. Weir and executed in Philadelphia-the size is 6 feet by 5, being made of heavy blue silk. On the one side is a painting in oils, representing the coat-of-arms of North Carolina encircled by a heavy wreath of oak leaves and acorns. Above is a spread eagle with scroll containing the motto, "E Pluribus Unum," a similar scroll below with words, "Greensboro, North Carolina." The other side, similar in design, except within the wreath the words, "Presented by the Ladies of Edgeworth Female Seminary, May 5th, 1860;" on the scroll above, "Guilford Grays," and on scroll below, "Organized March 5th, 1860," all edged with heavy yellow silk fringe, cord and tassel blue and gold, the staff of ebony, surmounted with a heavily plated battle axe. This flag is still preserved and in the writer's possession.
For four years, I traced the bullet scar on Chace’s chest, believing it was proof he would bleed to keep me safe. On our anniversary, he told me to wear white because "tonight changes everything." I walked into the gala thinking I was getting a ring. Instead, I stood frozen in the center of the ballroom, drowning in silk, watching him slide his mother's sapphire onto another woman's finger. Karyn Warren. The daughter of a rival family. When I begged him with my eyes to claim me, to save me from the public humiliation, he didn't flinch. He just leaned toward his Underboss, his voice amplified by the silence. "Karyn is for power. Ember is for pleasure. Don't confuse the assets." My heart didn't just break; it incinerated. He expected me to stay as his mistress, threatening to dig up my dead mother’s grave if I refused to play the obedient pet. He thought I was trapped. He thought I had nowhere to go because of my father’s massive gambling debts. He was wrong. With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and texted the one name I was never supposed to use. Keith Mosley. The Don. The monster under Chace's bed. *I am invoking the Blood Oath. My father’s debt. I am ready to pay it.* His reply came three seconds later, buzzing against my palm like a warning. *The price is marriage. You belong to me. Yes or No?* I looked up at Chace, who was laughing with his new fiancée, thinking he owned me. I looked down and typed three letters. *Yes.*
For three years, Natalie gave everything to be the perfect wife and mother, believing her love and effort could finally earn her a place in their hearts. Yet her sacrifices were met with betrayal from her husband and cold rejection from her son. In their eyes, she was nothing but a manipulator, using vulnerability to get her way. Her husband turned his back, her son misunderstood her, and she never truly belonged. Heartbroken yet determined, Natalie left her old life behind. When her family finally begged for a second chance, she looked at them and said, "It's too late."
Eliana reunited with her family, now ruined by fate: Dad jailed, Mom deathly ill, six crushed brothers, and a fake daughter who'd fled for richer prey. Everyone sneered. But at her command, Eliana summoned the Onyx Syndicate. Bars opened, sickness vanished, and her brothers rose-one walking again, others soaring in business, tech, and art. When society mocked the "country girl," she unmasked herself: miracle doctor, famed painter, genius hacker, shadow queen. A powerful tycoon held her close. "Country girl? She's my fiancée!" Eliana glared at him. "Dream on." Resolutely, he vowed never to let go.
I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.
For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice. The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home. My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price. "You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment. I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet. My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them. As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
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