While being actively engaged upon the river bank, our own artillery had come up, and commenced pelting at the rebs in glorious style. We had six batteries (forty-two pieces) in the expedition, and here they were all brought into play. The enemy had also a good share of artillery, and when they all got into full working order, what with the bursting of shells and the diapason of small arms, the ground fairly shook with the reverberations.
The wooded bank of the river, in which the 17th were posted, becoming dangerous from the fire of our artillery, which ripped through the trees and drove the splinters about in all directions,wounding some of our men, Col. Amory sent in his aide with instructions for Lt. Col. Fellows to draw his men further to the rear. I was sitting cosily on the edge of a sloping bank, my legs astride the butt of a tree, and anxiously dodging my head about in search of a sharp-shooter who was, as I had occasion to believe, exclusively engaged in the endeavor to put me out of suspense and existence at the same time, when the aide came up and inquired where the Lt. Col. was. Perhaps it was officiousness on my part to direct him in the most safe and expeditious way to find Lt. Col. Fellows, who, as usual was at the front; for, without noticing my directions he proceeded further, and came near faring much worse. Just as he was taking advantage of an opening in the underbrush to go down the bank, whizz-herr-r-r-bang came a shell from the enemy which passed within two feet of him. He drew back, pale, and looking frightened enough; but, rallying, he proceeded a few yards further; but, just as he had found another opening, one of our batteries sent a discharge ripping through the woods just in front of him again, when, thinking, probably, he had gone far enough in that direction, he came to the right about, and sought the path I pointed out to him in the first place.
Our regiment was withdrawn about one hundred yards to the rear, ordered to lay down, and remained there under fire for three hours. We had, however, time to smoke, and take a survey of the battle-field on our left. The batteries were thundering away, and the regiments which were ordered in on the left of the road (among which were the 23d, 44th and 45th), were tiring rapidly, and losing heavily, if one could form a judgment from the way in which the ambulance corps were carrying the wounded to the rear. Not only did the infantry suffer from the fire of the enemy, but the batteries which were most advanced suffered their share of the casualties.
A sergeant, of Belger's battery I think, was in the act ofdismounting from his horse, when a shot or shell passed through the animal, and hit the sergeant, tearing the left side completely out of him.
One of our men wishing to have a better view of some object in his front, elevated his head, and opened his mouth, when a rifle ball passed into the cavity, and out at the back of his neck, the first intimation of which we had was a stream of blood spirting out of his mouth.
Major John G. Chambers was in command of the 23d, and marched his men in under fire; then formed them in line of battle, and I could not help noticing the extreme coolness of this officer in giving the order, in a deliberate voice—
"Captains of companies, see to your allinements."
Before the engagement had any sign of abating, the 17th were ordered to take up the advance for Goldsboro. We had to pass across the battle-ground under fire every step of the way; but, strange to say, no casualties occurred during this movement. We halted opposite the house which constituted the city or town of Whitehall, when we were accosted by an enthusiastic but prudent defender of his country, who had taken shelter in the lee of the house, safe from the enemy's bullets, who exclaimed:
"I say, boys, aint we giving 'em hell?"
Bestowing upon the hero a few 'O you be d—ds,' we resumed our march, and soon left the fierce cannonade far behind us.
The battle of Whitehall was little more than an artillery-duel, and would be deserving only of a few lines of record if it occurred on the Potomac or the Rapidan. I think, in the engagement, which lasted about four and a half hours, there must have been a great deal of lead wasted and iron thrown away on our side. The only sensible impression made by our projectiles, that we could see, was upon the frame of a gunboat onthe stocks at the other side of the river (intended for an iron-clad), and this was certainly riddled up in fine style.
The mention of the gunboat, or frame of one, puts me in mind of a daring act performed the evening previous to the battle by one of the 3d New York cavalry. He stripped off, swam the river, and was in the act of setting the gunboat on fire, when he was discovered and fired upon, and had to dive into the river, leaving his work undone, and swim back again amid a perfect shower of bullets, not one of which, strange to relate, touched him.
The loss on our side at Whitehall was about 30 killed and 120 wounded.
Our regiment was followed by the 9th New Jersey and others, until all the infantry were under full headway, leaving only a battery and a company of cavalry to engage the attention of the enemy until nightfall.
We continued our march to within about five miles of Steep Creek, and eight of the Wilmington Railroad, and halted for the night.
On Wednesday morning our regiment, followed by the 9th New Jersey, again took up the advance, and proceeded cautiously along to within about two miles of the railroad, where, as we came out upon the brow of a hill, we could see about a mile in our front the gleaming of the enemy's arms, as they slowly withdrew. Our advance companies came up with them, and quite a lively skirmish ensued, in which Sergeant Hardy of Co. F was mortally wounded.
Lt. Col. Fellows seemed in his element, and went on even in advance of the skirmishers.
A battery had been planted on the hill just mentioned, and commenced shelling the retreating rebels.
We advanced through a wood, skirting the mill pond, and, just on the further edge of the wood, where we struck the countyroad, we came upon a deserted rebel camp, the fires still burning, and in the ashes of which many roasted sweet potatoes were found.
After a short halt, we advanced along the county road which crossed the railroad about a mile to the south of the railroad bridge over the Neuse river, on arriving at which place abundant evidences were manifest of a hasty preparation to receive us, abandoned in greater haste, the hoes and shovels used in making rifle-pits and breastworks being left in confusion along the track. Axes were immediately brought into requisition, the telegraph posts cut down and the wires destroyed.
We halted a few minutes just beyond the railroad, and, two companies being sent out as skirmishers to the left, took up our march on the track towards the bridge, which it was the purpose of the expedition to destroy.
This bridge was a magnificent structure, about 200 feet long, and is said to have taken twelve months to build.
The 17th had proceeded but a quarter of the distance, however, when they were opened upon by a battery placed on the track across the bridge, which, having the exact range of our position sent shot and shell into us with terrible accuracy.
The track was immediately cleared, the regiment dividing, taking each side of the railroad, (the bed of which there rose to an elevation of about ten feet,) and gradually advanced towards the bridge. The fire from the battery and sharpshooters on each side of the railroad, became so continuous and heavy that it was difficult to tell whether moving along or laying still was most dangerous; but we kept pressing on, returning the fire as best we could. Our firing was rapid, but, though the bullets flew into where the enemy were supposed to be, yet I doubt if they did much execution.
While advancing cautiously onward, and during one of those pauses in our progress rendered prudent by the iron and leadenhail directed against us, an incident occurred, which impressed me at the time as being truly ludicrous. A Co. K man, named Gately, who was hugging the side of the railroad with commendable zeal, was approached by a rebel of the canine species, which, with that instinct that often approaches to reason, and is at times wonderfully developed in this species of animal, seemed to realize that he was in the midst of danger, and sought the nearest place of shelter. For this purpose, he insinuated himself between the soldier and the ground. The man not relishing the companionship, from prudential reasons, no doubt—an inch of elevation in the position he then was affording so much of an additional mark for bullets or erratic pieces of shell,—endeavored to dislodge him, saying—
"Clear out of this, d—n you!"
But the dog would not stay repulsed, and again returned.
"Give him the butt of the musket!" suggested Phil. Mealley, (another of Co. K's men), "knock him over into the ditch!"
This suggestion was acted upon, and the dog driven off.
As we were marching down the railroad in the first place, and when the enemy opened upon us, the cry was raised among the men—Billy Patterson's stentorian voice being among the loudest—
"Unfurl the flag!"
"Let the d—d rebs see what we fight under!"
"Show them our colors!"
A man named Carney, of Co. I, who was color-sergeant, immediately responded to the call, and shook out the folds of the old 'star spangled banner;' and there he stood on the railroad track, alone, for half an hour, a mark for the enemy's sharpshooters; but, strange to relate, though two of the color guard who were lying down behind him were wounded, and the old flag riddled with bullets, he received not a scratch. This act of true bravery, no matter how ill-advised it might have been, is, Ithink, deserving of a record, and the honor of this deed should be given to the man who so nobly faced death while upholding his country's flag.
Having progressed in the manner described about half a mile, somebody gave the order, and every one repeated it, to form on the railroad, and charge across the bridge—what for, except to take the battery just beyond, which had so annoyed us, I could not understand. Supposing however, that everything was correct, I scrambled up the bank and took my place with the rest. Then with a shout and a cheer we commenced the charge on the double quick; but had not proceeded twenty yards when, from the skirt of woods bordering the field on our left there came—tr-r-r-r-r—a volley of musketry fired by file, followed in half a minute's time by another volley delivered at once. (I should judge from the length of the line that no less than three regiments fired each time). And then commenced a scene that it would be vain to attempt a description of, especially by an actor in it. In less time than I can relate it, every man who was not wounded, had jumped, tumbled headlong or rolled over into the ditch at the right of the track, and the regiment apparently thrown into the wildest confusion. I have been told that those who witnessed the scene thought for the moment that the 17th were cut to pieces; but were agreeably surprised to see the brave fellows spring up again, and commence a rapid fire upon the enemy, using the elevated bed of the railroad as a breastwork.
There were but four or five men wounded from these volleys. The rebels, evidently mistaking the distance (about 200 yards), and the height of the railroad bed did not fire high enough, and most of their bullets lodged in the bank at the left—an extremely lucky circumstance for us all, as was also the interruption to our progress thus given; for had we crossed the bridge few of us would ever have returned to tell the tale.
When the sound of the first volley struck my ear, I involuntarily turned my head to see where it came from, and I mentally remarked—"What splendid file-firing!" But when the second volley burst out at once, the smaller sounds uniting to swell the volume into a deafening crash, I was too absorbed in calculations upon whether any of the musical messengers of death singing about my ears, were intended for my especial misfortune, and hesitating among the confused mass of men what to do with myself, when, just as a shell burst close over me, I received a knock on the left side which doubled me up, and I toppled over, with the others, head heels into the ditch. The breath was knocked out of me, but sensibility remained; and, strange to say, while falling the short distance down the bank, I made twice over this mental calculation—
"If the bullet [I thought it was a bullet, and went quite clean through me, for I felt the pain equally in both sides] has not gone through my stomach I may get over it. If it has, I'm a goner, sure."
Picking myself up, as best I could, and, with a rueful visage, I suppose, replying to the inquiries of my comrades if I was hit, I took off my blanket, unbuckled my belt, and proceeded to search for the wound. I will freely acknowledge, that at this time my thoughts were not of the most lively character; but, upon searching and finding no wound save a painful bruise, I could have jumped for joy, and felt better pleased than if I had come into possession of the best plantation in North Carolina. In picking myself up after the tumble just described, I noticed the 9th New Jersey, who had advanced down the field to our right, retire on the order at the double-quick. And yet, afterwards, in Gen. Foster's report, this regiment received all the credit for what the 17th had done.
After a while Morrison's battery came thundering along, and got into position in the field at the right of the railroad, andcommenced hurling shot and shell into the enemy in fine style.
The men were loading and firing away in splendid fashion, though I think with questionable results, and, catching the spirit of the occasion, I added my feeble quota to their efforts.
At one time, after discharging my piece over the railroad, and coming down to reload—the shot and shell of the enemy screaming and bursting over and around us, they having brought a number of their batteries to bear upon our particular position—I beheld one of our men (a very young fellow), with his head punched into the bank; and looking the picture of bewilderment and terror. Seeing that he appeared unhurt, I questioned him while loading my piece:
"What's the matter? Why don't you fire?" [No answer.]
"Is your piece loaded?" "Yes."
"Then, d—n you, get up, and act like a man!"
But he was too terrified to move, and I left him in disgust, although pitying the infirmity that should have deterred him from ever entering the army.
I have omitted to state that half a dozen of the marines, whom we had been guarding, had volunteered into Co. I (our smallest company in point of numbers), and in this engagement they acted with great gallantry. Our men were crowding the embankment towards the bridge, and one of the marines anxious to have his share of the fun, sung out—
"Make room for a marine, there, will you?"
"Bully for the marine!" shouted the boys, as they made way for him.
One of our fellows had taken shelter behind a log, and a non-commissioned officer observing the act, routed him out, telling him to go forward and do his duty. The man departed, and the officer took his place, snugly ensconcing himself behind the log.
Lt. Col. Fellows was continually going up and down the line, encouraging his men, showing them by his example a pattern of the most fearless bravery.
Lieut. Graham, of the Artillery, went forward with combustibles to fire the bridge, but soon returned pell-mell, jumping behind a log, exclaiming—
"D—n them, they won't give a fellow the ghost of a chance out there!"
An order then came to form into line, and I thought it a case of particular hardship in taking up my place in the ranks to have to stand upon a log, which elevated me about two feet above my comrades, and thereby exposed me more to the flying shot and shell of our own batteries, as well as those of the enemy; for our own shells were bursting just over us, and Morrison's battery was belching forth its destructive missiles just above our heads.
The order was given, and we marched out from behind the embankment, and were halted in the rear of Morrison's battery, and ordered to lie down in a hollow made by taking earth forthe bed of the railroad. The rebels seemed to have the exact range of the position, and the way the shell and solid shot scattered and tore up the earth about us, and in our midst, was a caution. Col. Fellows alone stood, and some of the officers were remonstrating with him upon the rashness of thus exposing himself, when a shell at that moment came screaming by, apparently within a few feet of his head—
"Phew! there she goes!" exclaimed Col. Fellows; and replying to the officers, he said—"Well, it appears to me, that it is just as safe standing here, as lying down; if a man is to be hit, he'll be hit lying down as well as in any other position!"
"Poor philosophy, Colonel," I thought, "but very inspiriting words."
Lieut. Barnabas F. Mann then came forward, with a bundle of prepared combustibles in his hands, and called for two volunteers to accompany him to the bridge, to operate with another party in an endeavor to fire the same. The men were instantly forthcoming, of course, and the trio started on their dangerous errand. We watched them with anxiety, and saw them gain the bridge amid a perfect death-shower of bullets, one of which, unfortunately, hit our brave Lieut. Mann on the plate of his belt, causing a severe contused wound. They returned with the wounded officer, reporting that they did not succeed in their enterprise; but were mistaken, as will be seen presently.
Faint cheers were now heard from the rebels, and on looking to ascertain the cause, it was discovered that a train had arrived with reinforcements, which could be seen rapidly defiling from the cars and forming in line of battle across the railroad. Capt. Morrison learning this, immediately jumped upon the railroad, and directed the fire of his battery. The first shell fired fell rather to the left of the rebel line. The second fell in their midst almost on the railroad track, and the way they scattered into the woods was amusing.
A 'monitor' or battery came up with this train, and immediately commenced shelling us, every shell bursting directly above our heads. At the third fire from Morrison's battery, the shell exploded the engine, and a column of white smoke shot up into the air, carrying with it, no doubt, the lives of many poor rebels.
The enemy's fire began to slacken, and just as another attempt was about to be made to fire the bridge, smoke could be seen issuing from it, and soon the whole structure was wrapped in flames. The most important part of the work was accomplished.
In the meantime the work of tearing up the rails and sleepers of the railroad, and setting them on fire, was efficiently performed by the gallant 5th Mass. regiment and the New York Cavalry, the latter destroying another railroad bridge about two miles north of the great bridge; and when the fight was concluded I had time to notice the smoke of hundreds of fires, extending as far as the eye could reach on the bed of the road, indicating how completely the work of demolition had been accomplished.
Our regiment then marched out from under fire, and were received with cheers from all the other regiments that had come up to our support.
We then took up the advance on the return movement; but had not proceeded far, when we heard firing, and cheers of men, indicating that the fighting was not yet over, and soon an order reached us to halt. We were formed in line of battle, in case the forces in front would be compelled to retreat; but after a half hour's suspense in this position, were ordered again to the scene of our late labors, where we arrived in time to see the tail end of the fight, and to find we were not needed.
It appears that just after we had retired from the field, and towards sunset, the rebels having crossed the county bridge,some two or three miles above, to the number of three or four thousand, came down and charged across the railroad upon battery B, 3d New York Artillery. They formed in three lines of battle and came on with a terrible swoop intending to crush all before them.
The captain of the battery ordered his pieces to be loaded with double charge of grape and canister, and when they came within about sixty yards, sent a hail storm into their midst which mowed them down like grass, and before they could rally or fly, sent another discharge into them which threw them into such confusion that they incontinently fled, and were seen no more. The 5th Massachusetts was supporting this battery, and received great praise for its gallant behaviour. About forty prisoners were taken, and if the artillery supports had charged, no doubt many more would have been captured.
Our aid not being required, we went to the right about, and again took up the backward track; but though night had fallen on the scene, our way was not in darkness; for, some of the men—stragglers, perhaps—of the advanced regiments, had amused themselves in setting the woods on fire, on each side of the road. The scene was grand. The huge pitch-pines, which had been stripped to obtain the gum, from which turpentine and rosin were made, were ignited, and burned fiercely, and lined our road on either side like flaming sentinels. The underbrush had also caught, as well as the dried leaves, and with their volume of light added, rendered our pathway as clear and distinct as if the noonday sun poured down his burning beams. The heavy and regular tread of the marching battalions; the rumbling of the artillery and the baggage wagons and ambulances; the braying of mules; the confused hum of voices; the occasional cry of pain from the wounded men; the fierce, flaming, crackling, and cracking of the trees on fire; the occasional crashes of the falling giants of the forest; and the illuminated cloud ofsmoke which hung over all, made up a picture of sight and sound that, once witnessed, can never be forgotten.
I was tired, weary, bruised, and exhausted, and felt truly glad when we halted for the night, which we did in the same place we had bivouacked the night previous.
We resumed our march next morning; but I could not keep up, and arrived at the bivouac long after the regiment had stacked arms. But on emerging from the wood in full view of the encampment, I beheld a sight which was the grandest I ever witnessed. The ground rose to a considerable elevation from and on each side of the road, on both sides of which were encamped the infantry, cavalry and artillery. I could see the long lines of bivouac fires extending to the woods on either side, and the swarthy visages of the men as they moved around, or gathered about the fires, smoking and talking over the events of the day; and, what with the braying of mules and the barking of isolated and astonished dogs, there came a hum from the host that resembled the murmuring of 'many waters.' Added to this sight of magnificence the surrounding woods on fire, and the crashing of falling trees and branches, which might lead to the delusion that quite a number of small skirmishes were going on at the same time, and you will have some faint idea of the picture that met my gaze. To one unacquainted with military matters, looking upon that scene, it would appear that instead of an army of fifteen or twenty thousand men, there were at least double or treble that number encamped before him.
On our return, we were accompanied by a goodly number of escaped slaves, and any one who beheld the processions of these escaped bondmen—and they were dotted all through and along the line—men, women and children, and witnessed the patient and even cheerful manner in which they toiled along, with all they could hastily gather up in their flight, would be convinced that their love of liberty was prompted by more than an indefiniteidea of the blessings of independence. I could not help occasionally smiling at the grotesque appearance of some of the females, who had, apparently, left the more useful articles of their own wardrobe, to indulge in the inevitable female taste for finery and gewgaws, by 'confiscating' and bringing off in triumph some of their late mistresses' finery. Some were apparently unmarried, and they carried the largest amount of 'plunder,' while those who had children to carry or look after, could not bring more than a few necessaries of life, and, perhaps, a bed-quilt or blanket. Some had mules or carts; but the majority were on foot. After a tedious and toilsome march of over three days, in which no enemy annoyed our flanks, front or rear, we arrived in Newbern, as 'hard' a looking set of men as probably ever entered that city before. We were thankful, however, that our toils and fighting were over for the present, at least, and enjoyed the short repose granted us, ere we resumed our duty as provost guard of Newbern.
The 17th regiment continued in the city until the 26th of January, 1863, when it was relieved by the 45th, and went into barracks near the old county bridge across the Trent river. Here the regiment was engaged in doing picket duty, and constructing earthworks under the superintendence of Major Frankle, in which latter duty they were assisted by the 43d Mass., encamped near by.
The winter wore away heavily enough, but was enlivened by occasional dancing assemblies in the different companies' quarters, each emulating the other in the taste displayed in their decoration.
On the 14th of March (the anniversary of the battle of Newbern), the enemy made an attack upon an entrenched camp of two regiments of Wessells' brigade, across the Neuse river, and at the same time attempted to shell the city; but the gunboat Hunchback coming to the rescue, they were driven off.The affair was a fizzle on the part of the enemy, although from a sketch of it which I have seen in one of the New York illustrated papers, the public might be led to suppose it was most sanguinary and terrible.
I omitted to mention, in the proper place, the departure on the 7th of Feb'y, '63, of an expedition composed of a portion of the 18th Army Corps and Gen. Peck's Division of the Army of the Potomac, which arrived from Norfolk in January. This expedition, upon which so much was counted, proved a failure, owing to a disagreement between Gens. Foster and Hunter as to which general should have the chief command and direction of affairs in the operations against Charleston; and, as Foster could not have his own way, he withdrew a considerable portion of his forces, and with them returned to North Carolina in March.
About the first of April, the rebel Generals Hill and Garnett, with about fifteen thousand troops invested Little Washington, and erected batteries so as to command the approaches by water. Gen. Foster arrived the day it was invested, and great fears were entertained for his safety as well as that of the garrison. The rebels commenced a vigorous bombardment of the position, but after fifteen days pounding, and being pounded in turn, they fell back, and raised the siege. During all this time we could distinctly hear the sound of the cannonade, although the scene of conflict was fifteen or twenty miles distant.
On the 7th of April, the 17th formed part of an expedition undertaken for the relief of the besieged city; but upon approaching a place called Blounts' Mills, the enemy was discovered in force strongly entrenched. A severe skirmish ensued, the 17th losing seven men and an officer wounded, when the position being found too strong, the troops were withdrawn, and the expedition returned, without having accomplished anything. The expedition renewed its attempt on the 17th of April, andreached Washington on the 22d, without opposition, the enemy having previously withdrawn.
On the 27th, the 17th with the other regiments of the brigade, including the 45th Mass., started on an expedition to Green Swamp, upon the railroad leading to Kinston. On the 28th, at a place called Sandy Ride, near Cove or Cole Creek, the enemy were encountered, and the 45th advanced towards where they were entrenched, and would, no doubt have driven them out in fine style, for the 45th was really a good fighting regiment, but the Col. (Codman) hesitated, not from fear, I think, but ill-judged prudence, when two companies of the 17th were ordered up by Lt. Col. Fellows, and marched into the enemy's works, which they found abandoned. The expedition returned to its bivouac of the night previous, amidst a drenching rain, having marched nineteen miles in nine hours.
On the 5th of July, the 17th formed part of an expedition under Gen. Heckman, and proceeded to Warsaw, where they made some important captures of rebel stores, and destroyed salt works, &c.
On the 1st of October, the 17th again assumed the provost duty of Newbern, relieving the 27th Mass., where it has, I believe, remained ever since.
The rebels had during the winter of 1863, made several feints upon Newbern, and drove in our pickets at various times, but never approached nearer the city than ten miles. During the Fall of '63, after the nine months troops had been all withdrawn from the department, their time having expired, the comparatively small garrison had been still further depleted by Gen. Butler (who succeeded Gen. Foster as department commander) for the purpose of strengthening other posts. The rebels fully aware of this, determined upon the capture of Newbern, and, during January, collected a force of 15,000 or 20,000 men at Kinston, and on the 26th, reached our outposts, which theydrove in. About 114 men of the various companies of the 17th under command of Lieut. Col. Fellows, went to the assistance of the pickets at Batchelder's Creek, and on the 1st of Feb. were attacked by an overwhelming force of rebels, and lost eight officers and fifty men taken prisoners, and one killed and four wounded. Among the prisoners were Lieut. Col. Fellows, Adjutant Cheever (wounded), Capt. Lloyd (wounded), and Lieuts. B. F. Mann and Comins. But the rebs didn't get Newbern, although they captured Plymouth and its brave commander (Gen. Wessells), and the heroic garrison under his command. And after all the blood shed in the efforts to hold Little Washington, it has been abandoned to the enemy. Let us hope that the same policy will not be pursued in the case of Newbern, which is certainly one of the most important and strongly fortified posts held by our army on the coast.
I was taken sick in April, and sent down to Beaufort with thirty or forty other sick men. We took the cars at Newbern, and in about three hours were transported from the heat and dust of the interior to the cool, bracing air of the sea coast. On the way down I noticed that the country we passed through seemed little better than a continuation of swamps. We passed Havelock station, where a block-house had been erected in the midst of a swamp, and I pitied the poor fellows whose duty it would be to garrison that post during the coming warm season. Further on we came to clearing, and saw a line of breastworks behind which it was intended to dispute the advance of Burnside's forces in their march from Slocum's Creek to Newbern, but which he drove them from with little trouble. Newport Barracks, about ten miles from Morehead City, was a collection of some dozen houses, and the quarters of the cavalry and infantry pickets in that section. Carolina City was next reached, but where the city was I couldn't for the life of me make out. It was not anything like so grand a place as Newport Barracks,and I should not have known of its whereabouts but for the camp of the 23d Mass., which was said to be in the city. We next passed through Morehead City to the railroad terminus or wharf, about a mile further on. Morehead consists of one or two hotels, and forty or fifty houses and stores. A number of steamers and transports were laying at and off the railroad wharf. To the south, across the sound, I beheld Fort Macon, and anchored abreast of it and inside the sound were ships of all descriptions, from the captured blockade runner to the huge blockaders which were taking their rest and preparing to resume their dangerous duties off Wilmington, relieving in turn some other blockader. The city of Beaufort lay to the eastward, and looked much larger than it really was, and quite imposing.
While waiting for transportation, and looking at the various objects of interest around, my eye lit upon an individual (a sergeant in the—Mass.) whom I instantly recognized as having seen at Camp Cameron, whither he had been detailed to gather up recruits. But what a change had been wrought in his appearance! When I saw him at Cambridge he was full of life, spirit, confidence, and business—and drove a profitable trade there in the retail of porter, ale, &c. (under the rose, of course.) Now he looked cheerless and forlorn—utterly 'played out,' and as anxious as the most peacefully inclined rebel that 'this cruel war' should be ended. Hard marching, hard beds, hard usage, hard fighting and hard tack, had evidently left their mark upon him. And yet he was not sick—only dispirited a little.
A boat being at length in readiness we embarked, and after an hour's sail reached the Hammond Hospital at Beaufort. This hospital was in a building or series of buildings formerly known as Pender's Hotel, and was one of the most considerable and extensive of its class in Beaufort, and before the war was the summer residence of many planters and their families from theinterior who made this city their watering place. The main structure was built out upon the shore, on piles, so that the tide ebbed and flowed under it, and was altogether one of the most delightful places I have seen in that section. The former owner (Pender) was among the first and most active in the secession movement in North Carolina, and, with a company of men he had raised in Beaufort, took possession of Fort Macon; but Burnside came along, and after taking Newbern, Morehead City and Beaufort, leisurely proceeded to knock him and his fellow traitors and their arrangements into a 'cocked hat,' and Pender was taken prisoner and forced to leave his fine hotel, with its plate, furniture and bedding, behind him; and the story went that the negroes, the poor whites who remained, and some of the officers of a Rhode Island regiment divided the spoils.
The city of Beaufort is well laid out and looks quite pleasant from the water; but though there are a few good dwellings and some old-fashioned stores, the houses are scattering and the sand ankle-keep in the streets. In fact, the city is built upon a bank of sand; and how the inhabitants managed to cultivate gardens was a mystery to me—but they did make gardens, and in some instances very creditable ones. The soil, however, seemed too sandy for any fruit trees but the fig, which flourished in great plenty. The majority of the people—who, I judge, never exceeded two thousand in number—seemed to live by fishing and gathering shells. Beaufort is so situated within the folds of a marsh, and the approaches to it are so intricate and shallow, that it can never become a place of any great commercial importance—Morehead City will be its successful rival in that respect.
We (that is, the sick men) were assisted to land, and, after our names were checked and our surgeons' certificates or assignments deposited, shown to our ward room; and, to tell the truth, we had no cause to complain of our new quarters, which were pleasantly situated in the main building, commanding anextensive view of the harbor and the sea beyond. The beds were really good—but to us poor devils who had known nothing of the kind since leaving home, they appeared truly luxurious. A little experience in the productions of the culinary department of the hospital, however, did not impress us so favorably with that part of the programme. The bread was often hard and mouldy, and the beef as solid as a frozen turnip and salt as Lot's wife. As for the soup, it was whispered around that it was nothing but sea water in which salt junk was boiled, and a few carpenters' shavings thrown in for vegetables—it was called 'salt-water soup.' Of fresh meat I never tasted any in the hospital, while of fish and oysters, which were in great abundance in the market, I did not have more than two meals during the four weeks I was in hospital. When we complained to our fellow patients of the fare, they told us it was much better than it had been.
A few days after our arrival we were called up to undergo examination by the hospital surgeon, Dr. Ainsworth. In answer to one of his queries, we all told him we liked our quarters very well, but complained about the poor quality of the 'grub.'
When Tom McNally (the hero of the kicking mare) came up, Dr. Ainsworth asked—
"Well—what's the matter with you, sir?"
"O nothing particular," replied Tom.
"What were you sent here for, then?"
"Why—to recruit my health, I suppose."
"Ah—I see. I think you'd better go back to your regiment. I send some others off tomorrow, and you can go with them."
"I'd just as soon go now, sir."
"No. You can't go till I send you."
"Well, for God's sake, give me something to eat while I am here!" returned Tom.
"Here," said the doctor to the clerk, "make out papers for this man, and have him sent off immediately!" Then, takinganother sip from a glass on the counter beside him, which looked like whisky, he added—
"These 17th men seem hard to please. I shouldn't wonder if they boarded at the Revere House before they came into the army!"
That the hospital at Beaufort was not well conducted, I could plainly see, though to a visitor everything seemed to work well. And I was reminded of a reply made to an observation of mine to one of the patients in a general hospital at Newbern, that everything seemed favorable to the comfort and recovery of the sick—"Ah," he replied, "what you see is all very well—but there are many things you don't see!"
It was so with the Hammond Hospital at Beaufort. A pack of idle, worthless fellows, in the enjoyment of the most robust health—who should have been doing duty with their regiments in the field—were employed as clerks and orderlies, who, by a system of espionage upon the actions of the men and of persecution to all who incurred their displeasure, exercised a kind of petty tyranny which made them obnoxious but at the same time feared. These understrappers, while the patients were often deprived of some of the most common and desirable necessaries, reveled in the choicest dishes and delicacies to be obtained, including wines and preserves. This I have seen myself, and mentally contrasted it with the coarse fare of the poor patients who were forced to swallow the barely parboiled salt junk and dry bread, and the abominable milkless and unsweetened slops dignified with the name of tea or coffee.
And yet there was one man in authority, who seemed to do all in his power to remedy the too palpable evils. This was the assistant surgeon, Dr. Vaughan—a New Yorker, I believe. He was a kind, humane man—and to his exertions were due, in a great measure, the reforms that had been made in affairs. I have seen him day after day in the kitchen enforcing a reformin its arrangements; and I noticed, too, that on such occasions our meals were so much better than usual as to elicit remarks of satisfaction from the partakers.
'Red tape,' I presume, is indispensable in the conduct of all affairs pertaining to Government; but no where does its knotted folds tighten with more deadly effects around the destiny of its victims than in the hospitals. Hundreds die in the hospitals every year, who, if transferred to their homes at the North, might recover—if not, they would at least have the consolation of dying among their friends, which is the least that might be accorded by the Government to the poor fellows who become disabled in its service; but as they can not be sent North without a discharge from the service, and often while the discharge papers are passing through the tedious processes of signature ('the mill of the gods grinds slowly') the unfortunate patient becomes impatient, fretful and gloomy at the delay, and that 'hope deferred which maketh the heart sick' in many cases increases the virulence of the disease or brings on a relapse—and the poor fellow, so lately warmed with the pleasing hope of seeing once more his friends and his home, closes forever in blank despair his eyes in the bitterness of death.
[Since the above was written, I find that, through the efforts of Governors of different States and other good men in power, this evil has been partially remedied. I would respectfully but earnestly call the attention of those in power—and especially our good Governor of Massachusetts, who has always been the soldier's friend—to the adoption of some system whereby all sick men who will bear transportation can be sent home to their friends, and by this means thousands of lives may be saved.]
I will instance a case in point, to show the fatal effects of delay in the matter of discharges of sick men. A young man, named Palmer, who belonged to a New York regiment, was sent to the hospital at Beaufort, very sick from chronic dysentery.It was thought by the surgeons, after they had treated his case for a while, that nothing could save his life but a change to a more northern climate; but this could not be effected without a discharge. They interested themselves, however, and the discharge papers were forthcoming in an unusually short space of time. The poor fellow, buoyed with the hope of again seeing his friends, rallied a little, and actually gained considerably in strength; but just as he had got on board the boat at the wharf, which was to take him with a squad of other discharged men to the steamer in waiting, an order came from the surgeon that he must return, as there was some informality in his papers, and a new set would have to be made out. The poor fellow returned; but the shock occasioned by the disappointment was too much for his enfeebled constitution to bear. A relapse ensued, and in a few days he was a corpse—the victim of 'red tape,' or incompetency, or criminal carelessness—which?
I have said the understrappers at the hospital made a 'good thing' out of the necessities of the patients. They did more. The whisky intended for hospital uses was not only used by them, but frequently disposed of to the man-o'-war's men, who paid liberally for the same. The loss to the hospital (or rather the patients) was made up in this wise: When a pail-full of whisky was drawn from the cask, it was said that an equal quantity of water was thrown in—so that when the cask got pretty well down from the withdrawal of the legitimate supplies for hospital use, it was remarked by the patients that they got water diluted with whisky, instead of whisky weakened with water as in the earlier stages of this peculiar process.
There were many other things in the management of this hospital open to criticism—though, doubtless, the fault did not always lay at the door of the surgeon in charge. For example—there was quite a large number of disabled men, whose discharge papers had been made out and sent to headquarters forsignature, but had been kept back two, three, and even six months—for no reason whatever save some contemptible quibble or pretense that these papers were not made out correctly. Here were a large number of men unfit for any duty—some of them permanently disabled, others in the last stages of decline, and all anxious to be sent home as soon as possible, since they could be of no further use to and only a burthen upon the Government—kept against their own wishes, at a heavy public expense, and all because Dr. So-and-so, or Medical Director Bobolink, or their understrappers, were too indolent or careless to do their duty properly. Many of the nine-months men who had become disabled and were placed in the hospitals for discharge, were retained for some time after their regiments had been mustered out of service. No doubt it is a good and a very charitable thing to retain disabled men in hospitals whose discharge therefrom would throw them upon the charity of the world; but cases of this kind are very rare. Nearly all have friends who would willingly care for them, or belong to communities who have providently considered such contingent demands upon their charity, and made liberal arrangements to that end. In any case, I believe the condition of such men would be eminently improved by a transfer to the North—either to their friends or to some convalescent hospital or home for disabled soldiers.
I have now drawn towards the close of my narrative, and find that, instead of having room left for an elaborate essay (were I capable of writing one) upon the condition, character and habits of the freedmen, I have only space for a few general remarks. I do not regret this, however, when I reflect that there are many others better qualified for such a task than me.
In the course of my experience with the contrabands, I have been favorably impressed with their capacity for becoming a free people. The negroes seem, as a general thing, to possess asuperior vitality to the white men of the South; for, with comparatively poor domestic arrangements and an inferior style of nutriment, they seem to thrive better and be capable of greater endurance and more continued physical exertion. They display a thirst for knowledge—a desire for information—an indomitable faculty of acquisitiveness, and a superior power of imitation, which must lead the social philosopher to but one conclusion, viz., their eminent fitness for advancement in the social scale from the position of bondmen to that of freemen. And the necessity of some such change in the social condition of the negroes of the South cannot but be too apparent to every fair-minded man who has beheld the universal manifestations of the desire for freedom displayed by them. They are endowed with a temperament at once docile and energetic, light and serious. They have considerable aptitude for the mechanic arts, and are probably, some of them, the best practical farmers of the South. They are generally moral and deeply impressed with the sacredness of religion; but it is true at the same time that they have many petty vices—and the wonder is, that under so debasing a system they have any virtues at all. Of the length, breadth and depth of their mental capacity I do not pretend to judge—all white men are not equal in that respect; and I trust I am not one of those who believe that nothing good can come out of Nazareth. As to the radical mental and physical difference which is said to exist between the black and the mulatto, I must confess I could never perceive it—there are the weak, puny and imbecile of both shades of color, at well as the strong and active, intelligent and energetic.
It cannot be denied that, above all other things, the negroes have an unbounded desire for freedom—extravagant only in the risks it will cause them to run to obtain that boon; for, once free, they are content—nay, happy—to begin on the most humble scale to climb the ladder of fortune. They are verydomestic in their habits, and where they can find no habitation ready for them when they come into our lines, will set to work, and with such materials as very few white men would make available, erect a hut—not an elaborate one, to be sure, but all sufficient for their humble wants.
In and around Newbern I should judge there were from 5,000 to 8,000 escaped slaves, and of that number at least one half were located in camps or collections of huts of their own construction in different localities adjacent. There was one of those on the left of the Trent road, near Fort Totten; another near Fort Spinola on the other side of the Trent river, and a third just across the railroad bridge and to the left of the railroad.
This latter village, inhabited by over one thousand negroes of all ages and sexes, was under the supervision of Mr. G. R. Kimball, of Nashua, N. H. (Mr. K. was formerly Sutler of the 17th.) Upon expressing a desire to learn some facts in regard to the negroes under his charge, he kindly offered to give me all thefactsin his possession.
The adult negroes under Mr. Kimball's charge were all in the employ of the Government—the females were engaged in cooking, washing, and making pies and sweetmeats, for which they found a ready sale among the soldiers. "And a more contented and happy lot of mortals," said Mr. K., "you can not find anywhere." This I verified from a personal inspection.
Among other places I visited the village school. It was kept by a negro named Mack Bourne, and contained twenty-five pupils. When I entered, Mack did not seem pleased at the intrusion, and said—
"Look here, sojer—I dusent want any body in de sojer business to come in here; for d'oder day one of you sojer men—he cum'd in here, and he stole a testament from me—he did—a bran new one, too—and I don't like sich work—I don't!"
I told him I did not come to take anything from him.
"What did you cum for, den?"
"My dear sir," I replied, in a melo-dramatic tone, "I am a member of the press, and take an interest in your welfare."
"You is—you do? De press—wha-what press—de ex-press?"
"No—the printing press—for printing newspapers."
"Oh!—Is you a-gwine to print a paper? I tought you was a sojer!"
"And so I am, my friend; but I'm a printer also."
"Dus you make books like dis-a-one?" displaying a primer.
"Yes; I could print a book like that, or—a testament."
"Look here, sojer," he said, the remembrance of the loss he had sustained making him suspicious—"I tink you'm foolin' me. Now, sar, I dusent like to be fooled—I dusent!"
But I assured him I didn't want to fool him, and so pacified him that he became confidential, and told me his history. He was 'raised' in Plymouth, and had been taught to read by a nephew of his master's, who gave him lessons on Sundays, on the sly. None of his scholars had advanced beyond lessons in spelling, and most of them were in the alphabet. The girls seemed to make the most rapid progress; and two of these—named respectively Rosette and Melvina—could spell words of two syllables, after a tuition of only four weeks.
"Ise glad Ise free now—dat's so!" I one day heard a little curly-headed ebony urchin say to another. They had just been let out of school in Newbern. Struck by the oddity of the saying, I stopped and questioned the lad—
"Why are you glad you're free, my little fellow?"
"'Cause, sar, I can go to school, and learn to read; and den—"
"Well, what then?"
"Why, den de ole woman'll guv me heaps of sweet 'tater pies!"
When the Goldsboro expedition was about to start a requisition for thirty negroes was made upon Mr. Kimball. These, together with a like number from other camps, were to be usedas auxiliaries to the pioneer corps. He called them together and stated that an expedition was going off, that Gen. Foster wanted thirty of them to go with it, and called for volunteers. Only six men stepped forward in answer to the call.
"What," said he, "only six! Is that all the men I have?"
When one of the delinquents stepped forward and asked—
"If we goes, Massa Kimball, will dey guv us guns?"
"Yes—you will have guns if you need them."
Upon this announcement they all came forward and offered to go, and he had no easy task to select the thirty men required from the eager crowd.
This was before Wild's brigade had an existence; but showed that the negroes had manhood enough to fight for their freedom—which they have since fully proved on many a bloody field.
My task is done—would I could think it well done; but as it is it must go forth, like the ghost of Hamlet's father, with 'all its imperfections on its head.' I might have made it better—but I did not. The world moves on rapidly—things get jumbled up strangely in these troublous times—and, I suppose, the minds of men get confused and jumbled up also, for sympathy is a law of nature;—life is short, and greater men than I have made mistakes; but no man who fights in the cause of mankind—of universal freedom—can greatly err in its advocacy. The soldier who braves the hardships and perils of the campaign and suffers in a good cause, holds that cause dearer the more he endures for it; and the remembrance of those scenes, filled with glowing and startling pictures, often serves to renew that patriotic fire which forever burns in a corner of his heart. The armies of the rebellion have been flanked—the Confederacy will also soon be flanked, and, like my book, must sooner or later come to an
END.