PETER CUNNINGHAM LETTER - 2/17/1914
Events: Union Occupation 1865
Category: Confederate Letters
Origin: Peter Cunningham
Location: Fayetteville, TN
Description: Peter Cunningham Letter - 2/17/1914
Fayetteville Observer
1914
April 16, 1914
A Reminder of the War
The following letter recently received by Mrs. Fannie Tillman recalls one of the most thrilling experiences of the war in which Mrs. Tillman played the part of a heroine. The residence of Dr. William Bonner, Mrs. Tillman's father was at that time on the square and was occupied as headquarters by Col. -, who must be nameless in view of the action he took in this matter.
Messrs. Peter and Joel Cunningham, Lincoln County men, had been placed in Col. -'s custody as prisoners. They were bushwhackers whose service had earned the fear and hatred of federal officers. They were detained at the Bonner residence. After having been kept as prisoners for several weeks the dreaded order which had been expected some time arrived. General Milroy sent a squad of soldiers from Tullahoma with orders to shoot the Cunningham brothers.
Mrs. Tillman was a young girl, and her deepest interest and sympathy had been touched by the horrible fate of these men whom she had known so long: Col. C-, though he bore the hated name of Yankee, was a perfect gentleman and he could not remain insensible to the charming smiles and graces of a beautiful Southern girl. His honor was very dear to him but could anything avail against such tears and pleadings. At last he promised Mrs. Tillman, then Miss Fannie Bonner, that he would let the Cunninghams go if she could effect their escape.
On that fateful day Col. Stauffer and his men arrived from Tullahoma shortly before noon. Their prisoners were located and sent in the house, the Bonner residence, where they were put in the parlor. Then the best food the town could afford was procured and such a dinner prepared as would have taken the attention of kings and presidents to say nothing of colonels. Guests were invited, young ladies with most attractive manners and beguiling ways. Mrs. Tillman elected to wait on table. During the progress of the dinner she slipped quietly to the parlor and whispered, "Come but don't speak." They passed the dining room on the way out but the doors were closed and shades drawn tight. The adjutant passed them out the back door. They were free.
When the meal was over and Col. Stauffer with his squad went after their prisoners there were none. A stormy scene followed in which Col. C- was bitterly denounced and deprived of his colonel straps but no word of information passed his lips. In forty-nine years Mrs. Tillman had heard not a word of how the Cunninghams got away until Peter wrote her this letter. He had never known the part she played in their escape nor did he know Col. Stauffer was in the house when they left.
Winslow, Arkansas Feb. 17, 1914
Mrs. Fannie Tillman
Fayetteville, Tennessee
D ear Friend,
Today my mind runs back to February 17th, 1865, forty-nine years ago, when Capt. Joel Cunningham and I, his brother, were being held prisoners of war, C. S. A., by Colonel C- U. S. A., in the city of Fayetteville Tennessee. We had been prisoners fifteen days and on the 17th day of February, 1865, General Milroy, U. S. A., whose headquarters were at Tullahoma sent Col. Stauffer to Fayetteville with a message to Col. C- ordering him to turn Capt. Cunningham and brother over to Col. Stauffer to be executed. Col. Stauffer, when he first reached Fayetteville, surrounded the Provost Marshall's office with his men. He left his men in front of the Provost Office while he and the Provost Marshall crossed over to Col. C -'s headquarters in a room of Dr. William Bonner's residence. I was at the northeast corner of the square when the squadron came into town. I had been in bed sick and had not eaten a bite in the last twenty-four hours and had not seen my brother. I was feeling bad but the worst was seemingly an awful dread on my mind. Finally I left the bed and started to look for my brother, when I reached the northeast corner of the square I learned that Col. C- had ridden up the pike. While I was standing on the corner immediately south of Thomas Goodrich's store house, we saw the Yankees [I think they were mounted infantry] making the curve on the street coming around in front of the old Presbyterian Church. I remarked. to the citizens that I was talking with , "I have seen a great many Yankees but there goes the hardest looking gang that I ever saw". When the head of the column reached the northeast corner of the square they filed obliquely southwest across the square toward Col. C-'s headquarters.
When they were even with the court house they filed left and went to the Provost Marshals office where they formed a half-circle line in front of the office. [I watched them with mistrust.] The Provost Marshal went with the Colonel across to Col. C-'s office to deliver General Milroy's orders to Col. C-. In the meantime I walked across the square to look for my brother and as I approached the southwest corner of the square I noticed him and White Buchanan sitting with their backs against Dr., Bonner's yard fence engaged in conservation. Just then I noticed Col. Stauffer and the Provost Marshal coming through Dr. Bonner's yard gate from Col. C-'s office, and I noticed the Provost look at my brother, then say something to the Colonel and the Colonel turned and set his eyes on brother and gave him a long, wicked, vicious look until he had walked some distance. And that look did not lessen my fears and mistrust that all was not right; that something was going wrong for us. The Marshal glanced to me but the Colonel kept his eyes on brother until they had passed without seeing me.
I spoke to White Buchanan and my brother and passed on to meet Parson Gill and another friend who had just then driven up and stopped on the street in front of Col. C-'s office. I walked up and was standing with one foot on one of the front wheels when Col. C-'s office guard walked up to me and said in a low tone that Col. C- said for me and brother to come into his office and stay there. The guard passed on to brother and notified him. Brother glanced at him and we both walked into Col. C-'s office. The Colonel was walking the floor seemingly in much trouble, and without delay made known to us General Milroy's orders, and he said for us to get out of town without delay and report to General Johnson at Pulaski, and referred us to his adjutant for further instructions. The adjutant was standing in the back part of the hall looking obliquely through Col. C-'s office door and the window toward the corner of the square expecting a squad of soldiers to come to take charge of us at any minute.
He was also excited and informed us of General Milroy's orders and told us to make our escape if we could and report to General Johnson at Pulaski, and he [the adjutant] would send a report to General Johnson at Pulaski which would reach him as soon as or before we could get there; and General Johnson would send us to General Thomas at Nashville, who would protect us. I remarked that I was sick and had not eaten since yesterday morning and I was not able to make the trip to Pulaski. The adjutant replied, "get away from here. Avoid the pickets if you can." Then he turned to brother and said, "Captain, you have the pass that I gave you yesterday to pass you and your brother outside the pickets?" "Yes," replied brother, "a pass for me and one other man." "That will do. Your brother is the other man: avoid the pickets if possible as they may have heard the news. But if you meet them show them your pass without excitement and pass on."
Brother asked the adjutant, "Do you know where the pickets are on post?" He said, "No, but I believe there are none west." He then opened the door for us to pass out. We passed out down the hill, across the street, and going directly west went up through a beautiful blue grass lawn where we meet a Yankee soldier driving some loose horses off the pasture. He was the only Yankee we saw. We addressed him and leisurely passed on, pointing at and talking about some fine cows grazing on the blue grass, and occasionally turning our eyes toward town. Continuing west we crossed over the hill south of the college and at the head of a ravine we stopped where we could see back over town and took a good look, but could see no sign of excitement or unusual movement in any way. We then started down the ravine which led a little south of west down to Elk River at or near Crooked Springs. As we started down the ravine we increased our gait and were soon under cover of the hill so we could not be seen from the Boon's Hill road and we began to feel more safe. We crossed a road running up toward the river mill.
We struck the river at the head of a small island about one-fourth the distance across. Both up and down the river as far as we could see the water looked as though it was deep, except a ripple across the narrow channel between us and the island. But, deep or shallow, we must cross to the other side. I began to taking off my shoes. My brother asked if I meant to remove my clothes and I answered that I was too feeble to travel in wet clothes. We removed or clothes except shirts and I stepped back into a bunch of tall iron weeds and broke one about seven feet long to feel my way so as not to plunge into water over my head unawares. We crossed to the island and rubbed our limbs a moment as the water was very cold, having ice floating in it. We started across the wide channel I with my guide pole feeling the way and seemingly following a small ripple on the water. We found the water about the same depth all the way across, reaching to our hips.
We felt thankful that it was not any deeper. We climbed up the bluff to where the bush would partly hide us and rubbed our limbs dry and dressed and then climbed to the top of the bluff and crossed a field keeping to the southwest, we reached a beautiful grassy woodland. The tall grass killed by frost, made a fairly good bed; the sun was shining nice and warm and I was feeble and needed rest so we chose a nice place with a large log on the south side which hid us from passers-by traveling the Coldwater road a hundred steps south of us. The sun warmed us from our cold bath in the river and a half hour's rest made us feel better able to travel. We then started south crossing the Coldwater road on top of the rise some distance west of Markham's Mill, continuing south up the point of a ridge through woods, crossing a small field surrounded by woodland where a large drove of wild turkeys were in the field. They shied a little to the side to let us pass.
Bearing to the left we reached the Wells Hill road between the old Wells place and the top of the hill. We followed the road south a distance one of us watching forward and the other watching backward. Then turning southeast and leaving the road we dropped down in the Wells big hollow; crossing it we entered the mouth of a hollow which we traveled up in a southeast direction to the top of a hill or table land where we came to a dim wagon road leading east and west. We traveled the road east along the brakes of the hills. About half an hour before the sun set we were passing a house and I had passed four meals without eating and our little jaunt that day had made me quite fatigued and hungry. While I was resting brother asked the lady of the house if she could furnish us something to eat.
She said nothing was cooked but if we could wait we could have supper. Brother gave fictitious names saying we lived in Jackson County, Alabama, and that we belonged to General Hood's army which had fallen back from Nashville a short time before and that I was left sick near Pulaski and he, my brother, was detailed to wait on me and we were now trying to get home. My physical appearance verified the sick part. While we were waiting, brother stated that in passing west of Fayetteville that day we heard the Yankees had captured Captain Cunningham and his brother and were holding them prisoners at Fayetteville and General Milroy had sent a squad from Tullahoma to execute them. The lady said, "Yes, they are prisoners but I don't think they will be executed. My husband is acquainted with them and he is in town today. I am looking for him home now; he will know."
In a short time he came in and said it was a false report; that he had just came through town that afternoon and would have heard it if it had been true. He said He said he was acquainted with the Cunningham boys especially Peter whom he would know anywhere they met. Peter was our County Register before the war began. Yes, I [Peter] and the gentleman were intimately acquainted before the war, and I recognized him but he did not recognize us either of us while we stayed and talked an hour. After supper we left him in ignorance as to our identity and we followed the road east crossing the Stewart's creek and Pryor's mill road on to where a footpath left the road leading in the direction that we desired to go. After a little it became so dark that we could not follow the path so we went a few steps to one side and lay down in the underbrush and took a nap until the moon rose so we could see the way.
Them we arose and traveled on until we were with in a half mile of Esquire Myrick's where brother's family was stopping. We moved on cautiously to the house awoke Mr. Myrick. He had not seen or heard of any Yankees being about. Day was now coming on so we retired to an out of the way place for the day. During the day one of Col. C-'s captains with his company passed within half a mile of Esquire Myrick's house and went on to John Smith's a mile further on. The captain requested Smith to go to Esq. Myrick's and tell Captain Cunningham's wife to tell the boys to lay low for a few days and all would be well. The day following we took some large wagon covers that we had captured from the Yankees a short time back and we went two miles from home to a dense woods where a cyclone had passed two years before and uprooted all the trees in its way; and saplings fifty feet tall on down to under brush and briars had grown up thick; and in this thicket we set our tent made of wagon covers. The large logs crossed and piled all about us made a good wind break. We made our fire where a large tree had been blown out so the fire could only be seen a short distance.
We kindled the fire in the day time on account of the smoke being seen. We made a good bed out of forest leaves and had blankets and quilts. Our tent did not leak and we did our cooking at night. There was a small stream of running water in a few feet of our tent. We never fared better at any time of the war; well protected from the bad weather, a cozy bed to sleep on, fire wood convenient, good water at the door, enough to eat. But we deemed it advisable not to stay in one place long consequently we moved several times before the eighth day of May when we were finally paroled. On the 17th day of February 1865 General Milroy, U. S. A., issued orders and sent a squad of soldiers with a Colonel from Tullahoma to Fayetteville to execute the Cunningham brothers who were Confederate prisoners in custody of Col. C- U. S. A. and on the eighth day of May 1865 General Milroy sent his aide Captain Napler to Kelso with orders to parole Captain Cunningham and brother on the same terms in every particular with all the rights and privileges and protection that was given General Robert E. Lee's men when General Lee surrendered at Appomattox on the ninth day of April 1865.
It seems there was quite a change in General Milroy's attitude toward Captain Cunningham and brother in a short time. General Milroy was not to blame entirely although he should have been more discreet than to order men executed on unreliable evidence, or evidence that he did not know to be reliable. I will not weary your patience further. I beg to subscribe myself, Your sincere friend,
Peter Cunningham
Fayetteville Observer
Events: Union Occupation 1865
Category: Confederate Letters
Origin: Peter Cunningham
Location: Fayetteville, TN
Description: Peter Cunningham Letter - 2/17/1914
Fayetteville Observer
1914
April 16, 1914
A Reminder of the War
The following letter recently received by Mrs. Fannie Tillman recalls one of the most thrilling experiences of the war in which Mrs. Tillman played the part of a heroine. The residence of Dr. William Bonner, Mrs. Tillman's father was at that time on the square and was occupied as headquarters by Col. -, who must be nameless in view of the action he took in this matter.
Messrs. Peter and Joel Cunningham, Lincoln County men, had been placed in Col. -'s custody as prisoners. They were bushwhackers whose service had earned the fear and hatred of federal officers. They were detained at the Bonner residence. After having been kept as prisoners for several weeks the dreaded order which had been expected some time arrived. General Milroy sent a squad of soldiers from Tullahoma with orders to shoot the Cunningham brothers.
Mrs. Tillman was a young girl, and her deepest interest and sympathy had been touched by the horrible fate of these men whom she had known so long: Col. C-, though he bore the hated name of Yankee, was a perfect gentleman and he could not remain insensible to the charming smiles and graces of a beautiful Southern girl. His honor was very dear to him but could anything avail against such tears and pleadings. At last he promised Mrs. Tillman, then Miss Fannie Bonner, that he would let the Cunninghams go if she could effect their escape.
On that fateful day Col. Stauffer and his men arrived from Tullahoma shortly before noon. Their prisoners were located and sent in the house, the Bonner residence, where they were put in the parlor. Then the best food the town could afford was procured and such a dinner prepared as would have taken the attention of kings and presidents to say nothing of colonels. Guests were invited, young ladies with most attractive manners and beguiling ways. Mrs. Tillman elected to wait on table. During the progress of the dinner she slipped quietly to the parlor and whispered, "Come but don't speak." They passed the dining room on the way out but the doors were closed and shades drawn tight. The adjutant passed them out the back door. They were free.
When the meal was over and Col. Stauffer with his squad went after their prisoners there were none. A stormy scene followed in which Col. C- was bitterly denounced and deprived of his colonel straps but no word of information passed his lips. In forty-nine years Mrs. Tillman had heard not a word of how the Cunninghams got away until Peter wrote her this letter. He had never known the part she played in their escape nor did he know Col. Stauffer was in the house when they left.
Winslow, Arkansas Feb. 17, 1914
Mrs. Fannie Tillman
Fayetteville, Tennessee
D ear Friend,
Today my mind runs back to February 17th, 1865, forty-nine years ago, when Capt. Joel Cunningham and I, his brother, were being held prisoners of war, C. S. A., by Colonel C- U. S. A., in the city of Fayetteville Tennessee. We had been prisoners fifteen days and on the 17th day of February, 1865, General Milroy, U. S. A., whose headquarters were at Tullahoma sent Col. Stauffer to Fayetteville with a message to Col. C- ordering him to turn Capt. Cunningham and brother over to Col. Stauffer to be executed. Col. Stauffer, when he first reached Fayetteville, surrounded the Provost Marshall's office with his men. He left his men in front of the Provost Office while he and the Provost Marshall crossed over to Col. C -'s headquarters in a room of Dr. William Bonner's residence. I was at the northeast corner of the square when the squadron came into town. I had been in bed sick and had not eaten a bite in the last twenty-four hours and had not seen my brother. I was feeling bad but the worst was seemingly an awful dread on my mind. Finally I left the bed and started to look for my brother, when I reached the northeast corner of the square I learned that Col. C- had ridden up the pike. While I was standing on the corner immediately south of Thomas Goodrich's store house, we saw the Yankees [I think they were mounted infantry] making the curve on the street coming around in front of the old Presbyterian Church. I remarked. to the citizens that I was talking with , "I have seen a great many Yankees but there goes the hardest looking gang that I ever saw". When the head of the column reached the northeast corner of the square they filed obliquely southwest across the square toward Col. C-'s headquarters.
When they were even with the court house they filed left and went to the Provost Marshals office where they formed a half-circle line in front of the office. [I watched them with mistrust.] The Provost Marshal went with the Colonel across to Col. C-'s office to deliver General Milroy's orders to Col. C-. In the meantime I walked across the square to look for my brother and as I approached the southwest corner of the square I noticed him and White Buchanan sitting with their backs against Dr., Bonner's yard fence engaged in conservation. Just then I noticed Col. Stauffer and the Provost Marshal coming through Dr. Bonner's yard gate from Col. C-'s office, and I noticed the Provost look at my brother, then say something to the Colonel and the Colonel turned and set his eyes on brother and gave him a long, wicked, vicious look until he had walked some distance. And that look did not lessen my fears and mistrust that all was not right; that something was going wrong for us. The Marshal glanced to me but the Colonel kept his eyes on brother until they had passed without seeing me.
I spoke to White Buchanan and my brother and passed on to meet Parson Gill and another friend who had just then driven up and stopped on the street in front of Col. C-'s office. I walked up and was standing with one foot on one of the front wheels when Col. C-'s office guard walked up to me and said in a low tone that Col. C- said for me and brother to come into his office and stay there. The guard passed on to brother and notified him. Brother glanced at him and we both walked into Col. C-'s office. The Colonel was walking the floor seemingly in much trouble, and without delay made known to us General Milroy's orders, and he said for us to get out of town without delay and report to General Johnson at Pulaski, and referred us to his adjutant for further instructions. The adjutant was standing in the back part of the hall looking obliquely through Col. C-'s office door and the window toward the corner of the square expecting a squad of soldiers to come to take charge of us at any minute.
He was also excited and informed us of General Milroy's orders and told us to make our escape if we could and report to General Johnson at Pulaski, and he [the adjutant] would send a report to General Johnson at Pulaski which would reach him as soon as or before we could get there; and General Johnson would send us to General Thomas at Nashville, who would protect us. I remarked that I was sick and had not eaten since yesterday morning and I was not able to make the trip to Pulaski. The adjutant replied, "get away from here. Avoid the pickets if you can." Then he turned to brother and said, "Captain, you have the pass that I gave you yesterday to pass you and your brother outside the pickets?" "Yes," replied brother, "a pass for me and one other man." "That will do. Your brother is the other man: avoid the pickets if possible as they may have heard the news. But if you meet them show them your pass without excitement and pass on."
Brother asked the adjutant, "Do you know where the pickets are on post?" He said, "No, but I believe there are none west." He then opened the door for us to pass out. We passed out down the hill, across the street, and going directly west went up through a beautiful blue grass lawn where we meet a Yankee soldier driving some loose horses off the pasture. He was the only Yankee we saw. We addressed him and leisurely passed on, pointing at and talking about some fine cows grazing on the blue grass, and occasionally turning our eyes toward town. Continuing west we crossed over the hill south of the college and at the head of a ravine we stopped where we could see back over town and took a good look, but could see no sign of excitement or unusual movement in any way. We then started down the ravine which led a little south of west down to Elk River at or near Crooked Springs. As we started down the ravine we increased our gait and were soon under cover of the hill so we could not be seen from the Boon's Hill road and we began to feel more safe. We crossed a road running up toward the river mill.
We struck the river at the head of a small island about one-fourth the distance across. Both up and down the river as far as we could see the water looked as though it was deep, except a ripple across the narrow channel between us and the island. But, deep or shallow, we must cross to the other side. I began to taking off my shoes. My brother asked if I meant to remove my clothes and I answered that I was too feeble to travel in wet clothes. We removed or clothes except shirts and I stepped back into a bunch of tall iron weeds and broke one about seven feet long to feel my way so as not to plunge into water over my head unawares. We crossed to the island and rubbed our limbs a moment as the water was very cold, having ice floating in it. We started across the wide channel I with my guide pole feeling the way and seemingly following a small ripple on the water. We found the water about the same depth all the way across, reaching to our hips.
We felt thankful that it was not any deeper. We climbed up the bluff to where the bush would partly hide us and rubbed our limbs dry and dressed and then climbed to the top of the bluff and crossed a field keeping to the southwest, we reached a beautiful grassy woodland. The tall grass killed by frost, made a fairly good bed; the sun was shining nice and warm and I was feeble and needed rest so we chose a nice place with a large log on the south side which hid us from passers-by traveling the Coldwater road a hundred steps south of us. The sun warmed us from our cold bath in the river and a half hour's rest made us feel better able to travel. We then started south crossing the Coldwater road on top of the rise some distance west of Markham's Mill, continuing south up the point of a ridge through woods, crossing a small field surrounded by woodland where a large drove of wild turkeys were in the field. They shied a little to the side to let us pass.
Bearing to the left we reached the Wells Hill road between the old Wells place and the top of the hill. We followed the road south a distance one of us watching forward and the other watching backward. Then turning southeast and leaving the road we dropped down in the Wells big hollow; crossing it we entered the mouth of a hollow which we traveled up in a southeast direction to the top of a hill or table land where we came to a dim wagon road leading east and west. We traveled the road east along the brakes of the hills. About half an hour before the sun set we were passing a house and I had passed four meals without eating and our little jaunt that day had made me quite fatigued and hungry. While I was resting brother asked the lady of the house if she could furnish us something to eat.
She said nothing was cooked but if we could wait we could have supper. Brother gave fictitious names saying we lived in Jackson County, Alabama, and that we belonged to General Hood's army which had fallen back from Nashville a short time before and that I was left sick near Pulaski and he, my brother, was detailed to wait on me and we were now trying to get home. My physical appearance verified the sick part. While we were waiting, brother stated that in passing west of Fayetteville that day we heard the Yankees had captured Captain Cunningham and his brother and were holding them prisoners at Fayetteville and General Milroy had sent a squad from Tullahoma to execute them. The lady said, "Yes, they are prisoners but I don't think they will be executed. My husband is acquainted with them and he is in town today. I am looking for him home now; he will know."
In a short time he came in and said it was a false report; that he had just came through town that afternoon and would have heard it if it had been true. He said He said he was acquainted with the Cunningham boys especially Peter whom he would know anywhere they met. Peter was our County Register before the war began. Yes, I [Peter] and the gentleman were intimately acquainted before the war, and I recognized him but he did not recognize us either of us while we stayed and talked an hour. After supper we left him in ignorance as to our identity and we followed the road east crossing the Stewart's creek and Pryor's mill road on to where a footpath left the road leading in the direction that we desired to go. After a little it became so dark that we could not follow the path so we went a few steps to one side and lay down in the underbrush and took a nap until the moon rose so we could see the way.
Them we arose and traveled on until we were with in a half mile of Esquire Myrick's where brother's family was stopping. We moved on cautiously to the house awoke Mr. Myrick. He had not seen or heard of any Yankees being about. Day was now coming on so we retired to an out of the way place for the day. During the day one of Col. C-'s captains with his company passed within half a mile of Esquire Myrick's house and went on to John Smith's a mile further on. The captain requested Smith to go to Esq. Myrick's and tell Captain Cunningham's wife to tell the boys to lay low for a few days and all would be well. The day following we took some large wagon covers that we had captured from the Yankees a short time back and we went two miles from home to a dense woods where a cyclone had passed two years before and uprooted all the trees in its way; and saplings fifty feet tall on down to under brush and briars had grown up thick; and in this thicket we set our tent made of wagon covers. The large logs crossed and piled all about us made a good wind break. We made our fire where a large tree had been blown out so the fire could only be seen a short distance.
We kindled the fire in the day time on account of the smoke being seen. We made a good bed out of forest leaves and had blankets and quilts. Our tent did not leak and we did our cooking at night. There was a small stream of running water in a few feet of our tent. We never fared better at any time of the war; well protected from the bad weather, a cozy bed to sleep on, fire wood convenient, good water at the door, enough to eat. But we deemed it advisable not to stay in one place long consequently we moved several times before the eighth day of May when we were finally paroled. On the 17th day of February 1865 General Milroy, U. S. A., issued orders and sent a squad of soldiers with a Colonel from Tullahoma to Fayetteville to execute the Cunningham brothers who were Confederate prisoners in custody of Col. C- U. S. A. and on the eighth day of May 1865 General Milroy sent his aide Captain Napler to Kelso with orders to parole Captain Cunningham and brother on the same terms in every particular with all the rights and privileges and protection that was given General Robert E. Lee's men when General Lee surrendered at Appomattox on the ninth day of April 1865.
It seems there was quite a change in General Milroy's attitude toward Captain Cunningham and brother in a short time. General Milroy was not to blame entirely although he should have been more discreet than to order men executed on unreliable evidence, or evidence that he did not know to be reliable. I will not weary your patience further. I beg to subscribe myself, Your sincere friend,
Peter Cunningham
Fayetteville Observer