Wallingford/Jarlov Family Trees

From: Rmomba@aol.com

The following is an extract from an article by Val G Giles of Austin Texas, published in the Galveston News- Sunday Aug 10, 1902- The writer was inspired by a visit to Bryan, during the reunion of Hoods Brigade-June 27, 1902.

I crossed the Brazos River and was sidetracked at Lewis, on the Great Northern, a lonely little station. Here I was forced to remain for ten long hours in the middle of a 3000 acre plantation. I finally reached Bryan, and had a glorious time with my old comrades. In a land overflowing with Southern hospitality, and I am sorry to learn that it has allso overflowed with water.

Forty years is a big slice of a mans three score and ten- two thirds of the way. A majority of my old comrades that I met at Bryan on the 27 and 28th of last June have passed the 60th mile post. A few of us are straggeling a little in the rear, but the mile post marked 60 is in sight. As I sat in the opera house in Bryan and looked over the gray assembly of old men it was hard for me to realize the fact that they were companions of my youth, the gray rollicking boys I marched with back in the sixties. There were no spring chickens in that aggrigation of gray beards and bald heads and there is no flint left in the old brigade. The dandy of 1860, with his high heeled pumped soled boots and broadcloth dress suit, in many instances was the soldier from 1861 to 65, but Old Time had knocked the starch out of youth, and the vanity of the young manhood out of him, and years have whitened his locks and marred his once happy face.

I had not seen Thomas G. Wallingford for many years until I met him at Bryan. I knew him the moment I glanced at him. Then I remembered the Chickahominy swamps and a remark he had made to me more than 40 years ago. "You Co B fellow down there, why the devil don't you climb a tree? No orders against that." But I will speak of that incident later on.

As I stood in the gloomy solitude of the Chickahominy swamps that night I spied the biggest ghost I had ever seen before. I saw it rise up out of the sluggish marsh, not larger than a two months calf, but the thing gradualy grew larger, broader, taller and whiter until it looked as big as a box car and as high as a telephone pole. It was an expansion ghost, simular I suppose the one recently found in the Phillippine Islands. It lit up the dismal surroundings by a soft pale light, it grew brighter for a few seconds, then rose slowly from the ground and disapeared in the thick foliage of the trees. It was a very decent sort of a ghost. It never said a word, just flared up, waved a little than vanished.

It was not long before I saw more of these haunts, floating around in the woods, and I felt relieved when it dawned on me that it was only a phosphorescent light ariseing from the noxious effluva of the swamp. And while there was a profound stilness, a destressing silance, and with these fantastic shadows whizzing all around me, I stood perfectly still until I got so tired, that I began to grapple around for a log or a stump to sit on.

I was makeing some noice wadeing around in the dark when I heard a voice down there of my next post commander call out and say"You Company B fellow down there-why the devil don't you climb a tree-no orders against that. I soon found a bent over pine and anchored on it, my feet dangling in the water. It afforded me a place to rest, and I was thankful for that. The advice to climb a tree came from Tom G. Wallingford, a member of Company G, of my Regiment, and a man whom I did not know at the time. Climb a tree, was our introduction. Later we were often thrown together and I learned to admire the man. In those days he was a strong vigerous man of about 30 yrs, and never missed a battle or shirked a duty.

It has been many years since I last saw him, but when I looked at his benevolent old whiz, at Bryan, I recalled scenes of long ago. Wallingford had been a remarkable man, and those who see him today in the walks of civil life will never dream of the thrilling scenes through which the private soldier passed.

I doubt if there was another private soldier in the Army of Northern Virginia, who saw more of the Civil War than did he. He is marked present at every battle in which the Fort Texas Regiment was engaged from Eltmans Landing down to Attomatix. It was Wallingford's fortune or misfortune to be on hand when and where little things occured as well as big ones. He saw more and heard more than any man in the Regiment.

By accident he was present Sunday morning, Sept 21, 1863 and heard a part of the quarrel between General Bragg and General Longstreet at Chickamauga. He did not hear it all, but he caught, General Longstreets parting words as he rode off from General Bragg "Damed if you can casher me" I don't belong to your army"

At the battle of Wilderness, he was within a few feet of General Lee, when he rode up and proposed to lead the Texas Brigade. He heard General Lawrence cry out to General Lee, "Go back General Lee, go back, we have whipped them once before and dam em we can whip them again. As General Lee turned to ride back, Lawrence kicked poor Travler in the sides saying "Get out of the Wilderness with General Lee, you old looney.

Thomas G. Wallingford, lives now at Fields Store, Waller Co Texas, and carries his seventy odd years wonderfully well.

Note: Thomas G., died in May 1909

(This is a handtyped copy of the original article. I am sure the errors in spelling you see were from the typing not in the original article)

Jacque Wallingford
Rmomba@aol.com

Variation of same thing held by Joan Mickler Wallingford, with reference that her version was copied from Hempstead News, of Hempstead, Texas, dated September 4, 1902.