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Record of the Service of the Forty-Fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia in North Carolina

Date: 1887 | Identifier: E513.5 44TH R
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RECORD
OF THESERVICE
OF THE
Forty-Fourth Massachusetts
Volunteer Militia IN NORTH CAROLINA
August 1862 to May 1863



BOSTON
PRIVATELY PRINTED
1887




University Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge.





While these pages were passing through the press, the Colonel of the Forty-Fourth died at his home in Westport, New York.

The surviving members of the Historical Committee wish to testify here to the respect and affection felt for him by the Regiment, and therefore dedicate this Record

To the Memory of OUR COMMANDER, COMRADE, AND FRIEND.

COLONEL FRANCIS L. LEE.









PREFACE.

The Forty-fourth Massachusetts Regimental Association has been fortunate in one circumstance. The regiment was so largely made up of clerks and students who are now business or professional men in Boston, with common ties of residence and occupation as well as of army service, that the yearly meetings of the Association are more largely attended and more heartily enjoyed than are the reunions of regiments whose members have become scattered and estranged since the war.

This cordial fellowship led, many years ago, to a wish for some permanent record of the service in which it had its origin. The first reunion of the Forty-fourth was held March 14, 1876. As early as the annual meeting held Feb. 5, 1879, the project of publishing a regimental history was discussed, and referred, with full powers, to an Historical Committee consisting of Charles C. Soule, Edward C. Johnson, Col. Francis L. Lee, Frank G. Webster, and James B. Gardner.

At the annual meeting held Jan. 20, 1886, William Garrison Reed, Charles J. McIntire, Paul S. Yendell, John J. Wyeth, and Eben N. Hewins were added to this Committee.

The original Committee selected James B. Gardner to collect material and edit the history. Diligent inquiry





was made among members of the regiment for old letters, diaries, or sketches. From material of this kind, from newspaper files, from the records of the War Department, from the four monographs already published concerning the regiment,1 and from all other available sources, Corporal Gardner had compiled the rough notes for a regimental history, when he received a railroad appointment in the West, and removed from Boston to Dennison, Ohio. His new duties so thoroughly absorbed his time that he could not find leisure for working up his notes, and he therefore sent them just as they were to the Historical Committee. The members of this Committee were all exceptionally busy men, — far too busy to edit the history themselves. They were compelled to seek an editor outside of their own number; and much time was lost in trying to find among surviving members of the regiment some one with the leisure, zeal, literary ability, and patience needed for deciphering and putting into proper shape Gardner's rough notes. Several comrades were almost persuaded to undertake the task; but laziness, diffidence, or actual inability to spare the necessary time finally overcame all of them. In despair, the Committee borrowed an idea from “The Memorial History of Boston,” divided the regimental record into chapters, each embracing some phase or event of our service, and endeavored to get different comrades to write them. In this attempt they were successful, although

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progress was still slow, owing to the unconquerable dilatoriness of some of the contributors.

Fortunately, Gardner returned to Boston at this juncture, and came to the rescue with renewed zeal and energy. Indeed, the other members of the Committee wish to say that notwithstanding the services rendered by the writers of chapters and by other comrades (among whom they would especially mention and thank Reed, Hewins, and Wyeth), Gardner has done by far the greater part of getting this book together, and deserves a proportionate share of the credit.

It was determined at an early stage in the enterprise that the history should be illustrated. To this end the Committee have been fortunate in securing the services of Paul S. Yendell, of Company G, whose sketches have the merit of being reminiscences of incidents of actual service with the Forty-fourth. The maps and plans have been carefully prepared and drawn (without compensation) by Comrade Gardner.

As the result of these prolonged efforts, — somewhat disproportionate, perhaps, to the size and importance of the book, — the Committee present to the Regimental Association this Record of the campaign of the Forty-fourth, believing that even the difficulties of preparation, and the consequent enlistment of so many different contributors, have tended to vary the style and increase the interest of the narrative.

Lest this book should come into the hands of any others than our own comrades, it may be well to say here that the members of the Forty-fourth, as only nine months’ soldiers, recognize that they should speak





modestly of their services. But while yielding admiration and precedence to the veterans whose patriotism prompted and whose opportunities allowed a longer enlistment, the short-time men may be permitted to look back with some satisfaction to the part, however small, which they played in the great War of the Rebellion. The service of the Forty-fourth Massachusetts included a representative variety of the experiences of the American volunteer during a winter campaign, — camp life, provost-duty, marches, skirmishes, a siege, battles serious enough to test the courage of the regiment, exposure, hardship, and losses by disease and in action. So far as it went, this service was serious work, and not a mere holiday parade. Older and more seasoned veterans will not begrudge us these modest reminiscences.

January, 1887.










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HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO BOSTON
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TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTERPAGE
I.The New England Guards1
James B. Gardner, Corporal, Co. D.
II.Organization, and Camp at Readville21
James B. Gardner, Corporal, Co. D.
III.Voyage to New Berne41
Everett C. Bumpus, Co. H.
IV.New Berne and its Garrison53
George F. Piper, Co. E.
V.Camp Life69
James B. Gardner, Corporal, Co. D.
VI.The Tarboro’ March, and the Affair of Little Creek and Rawle's Mill109
Charles J. McIntire, Co. G.
VII.The Goldsboro’ Expedition133
Charles Storrow, Captain, Co. F.
VIII.The Plymouth Expedition147
Henry W. Hartwell, Co. A.
IX.Washington159
Paul S. Yendell, Co. G.
X.Picket-Duty of B and F197
Charles C. Soule, Second Lieutenant, Co. B.
XI.Provost Duty, Voyage Home, and Muster out205
James B. Gardner, Corporal, Co. D.





CHAPTERPAGE
XII.North Carolina Revisited223
William Garrison Reed, Co. D.
XIII.Medical233
Dr. Theodore W. Fisher, Surgeon.
XIV.Personnel255
Rev. Edward H. Hall, Chaplain.
XV.Subsequent Service269
Eben N. Hewins, Co. F.
APPENDIX293
James B. Gardner, Corporal, Co. D.
Riot293
Association 295
Roster301
Recapitulation: Ages336
Recapitulation: Places of Enlistment337
General Summary338
Present Residence339
Present Occupation340
Fac-simile Signatures341
INDEX357





LIST OF PORTRAITS.

Group of Officers, ReadvilleTo face page 21
Generals Foster, Wessells, and StevensonTo face page 61
Field and Staff of the Forty-fourthTo face page 255

LIST OF MAPS AND PLANS.

Department of North CarolinaFollowing Preface.
New BerneTo face page 53
Barracks at New BerneTo face page 69
Rawle's MillsTo face page 117
KinstonTo face page 133
WhitehallTo face page 140
WashingtonTo face page 159
Vicinity of New BerneTo face page 197









LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

By P. S. Yendell.

CHAPTER I.

NEW ENGLAND GUARDS.

Initial — Fourth Battalion Crest . . . . . Page 1

Seal — Fourth Battalion Coat of Arms . . . . . 4

Cannon . . . . . 5

Tail-piece — Fort Independence . . . . . 20

CHAPTER II.

CAMP AT READVILLE, ETC.

Initial — Color-guard . . . . . 21

Going to Wash . . . . . 26

Interior of Barrack after Dress Parade . . . . . 32

Tail-piece — Blue Hill from Camp-ground . . . . . 39

CHAPTER III.

VOYAGE TO NEW BERNE.

Initial — Wharf — Waiting to go on Board . . . . . 40

Deck of “Merrimac” . . . . . 46

Ride to New Berne . . . . . 48

CHAPTER IV.

NEW BERNE, ETC.

Initial — Coat of Arms of North Carolina . . . . . 53

Tail-piece — Attack on Fort Anderson . . . . . 68





CHAPTER V.

CAMP LIFE.

Initial — On Guard . . . . . Page 69

Right Wing of Barracks . . . . . 71

Drawing Rations . . . . . 74

Hucksters at Guard Line . . . . . 75

Police Squad . . . . . 78

Cleaning up for Inspection . . . . . 80

Distributing Letters . . . . . 90

Mending Clothes . . . . . 91

Opening Boxes . . . . . 95

Tail-piece — Indispensables . . . . . 108

CHAPTER VI.

TARBORO’.

Regiment on the March(from a sketch by Lieut.-Col. Cabot) . . . . . 109

Initial — Reveille . . . . . 109

Cotton-press . . . . . 112

Gathering Rails . . . . . 120

Foraging . . . . . 123

Making Coffee and Drying Blankets . . . . . 130

Tail-piece — Despatch Boat . . . . . 131

CHAPTER VII.

GOLDSBORO’.

Initial — Field and Staff Bivouac . . . . . 133

Camp Cooking . . . . . 136

Midnight in Bivouac . . . . . 141

“Clear Grit” . . . . . 144

Tail-piece — Luggage and Conveyance . . . . . 146

CHAPTER VIII.

PLYMOUTH.

Initial — “Northerner” at Wharf . . . . . 147

Old Mill . . . . . 150

Ham-fat March . . . . . 153





CHAPTER IX.

WASHINGTON.

Initial — Bird's-eye View of Left Centre . . . . . Page 159

Cook-house, Company G . . . . . 161

Blockhouse No. 2 . . . . . 163

Traverse and Splinter-proof — Left of Company G . . . . . 177

Drawing Rations under Fire . . . . . 183

Tail-piece . . . . . 196

CHAPTER X.

PICKET DUTY.

Initial — “Halt! Who goes There!” . . . . . 197

Scouting in Flat-boat . . . . . 199

Batchelder's Creek Picket Post . . . . . 201

CHAPTER XI.

PROVOST DUTY.

Initial — Sentry at Headquarters . . . . . 205

Examining Passes . . . . . 208

Sentry Fishing . . . . . 209

Tail-piece — Colored Washerwoman . . . . . 222

CHAPTER XII.

NORTH CAROLINA REVISITED.

Initial — How We Travel Now . . . . . 223

CHAPTER XIII.

MEDICAL.

Initial — Dispensary Door at Surgeon's Call . . . . . 233

CHAPTER XIV.

PERSONNEL.

Initial . . . . . 255





CHAPTER XV.

SUBSEQUENT SERVICE.

Initial . . . . . Page 291

Tail-piece . . . . . 299

APPENDIX.

ASSOCIATION.

Initial — Association Badge . . . . . 295





CHAPTER I. NEW ENGLAND GUARDS.

IN writing the biography of an individual it is customary to refer to his ancestry; and in writing what might be called an autobiography of the Forty-fourth Regiment it therefore seems appropriate to give a short account of the New England Guards, a military organization founded during the War of 1812-1815, and from which that regiment was lineally descended. The New England Guards were regularly organized at a meeting held at Concert Hall, Boston, Sept. 19, 1812, under authority of an order issued by the Brigadier-General commanding the Third Brigade, First Division, M. V. M. Forty votes were cast, and Samuel Swett was elected captain; George Sullivan, lieutenant; and Lemuel Blake, ensign. The meeting then adjourned to the 24th, when James Dalton was chosen first sergeant; Stephen G. Brown, second; William Ward, third; and Isaac Mansfield, fourth. The corporals were chosen five days later. At this meeting the draft of the constitution was read and discussed, and on the following evening, September 25, at a meeting held at Faneuil Hall, it was adopted.

The preamble read as follows:—

“To facilitate the performance of the duty which we owe to our country of adding to our character as citizens some portion of the skill of the soldier; to increase our usefulness as militiamen by adding to the zeal which





is excited by patriotism, the ardor which is inspired by emulation; and to give to each one of us, while exerting himself for his own and the State's defence, that confidence in each other's zealous and skilful co-operation which can result only from military discipline, we have voluntarily associated ourselves for the purpose of forming a company of light infantry; and to govern us in the pursuit of these objects we have adopted the following articles for our constitution.”

This was quite lengthy, and contained the provisions usually found in documents of that description. The uniform as originally ordered would look strange in these days:—

“A plain, dark blue coat, double-breasted, with gilt buttons; white waistcoat; white pantaloons; blue cloth pantaloons; half-boots with black tassels; round hat with a black leather cockade, yellow eagle in the centre, and a gold loop extending down to the band; a black silk stock. . . .”

The duties of the officers are described with exceeding minuteness. A clause in the article specifying those of the orderly sergeant reminds us how inadequate were the postal facilities in those days:—

“He shall notify all the members of every meeting by signing a written or printed notification, which he shall seasonably deliver to the other sergeants and corporals in equal parts; and it is hereby declared to be their duty to deliver said notifications without delay to the members to whom they are addressed.”

Previous to the declaration of peace in 1815, one hundred and twenty-six members had joined the Guards. Among them were many who in after years were enrolled among the “solid men of Boston;” and their children and grandchildren were found in most of the regiments sent to the front from Massachusetts, and in a few which went from other States. Abbott Lawrence became Minister to England; Joseph B. Henshaw was for some time Collector of the Port of Boston; William Greenough, Jr., was a well-known hardware merchant, and his son is now President of the Trustees of the Public Library; Nathan Hale was editor of one of the most influential newspapers in New England and father of Rev. Edward Everett Hale; and the names of Samuel Swett, George Sullivan, Lemuel Blake, Stephen G. Brown, George Dana, Massa Willis, Robert P. Williams, Reuben Richards, Jr., Charles Tidd, Moses Grant, Jr., Richard Ward,





Watson Gore, Deming Jarves, Lorenzo Draper, Jonathan G. Barnard, Thomas Dennie, Jr., Joseph Callendar, Jr., Cheever Newhall, Joseph West, Jr., Benjamin F. White, Thomas R. Sewall, Joseph Ballister, Jeffrey Richardson, Barney Tisdale, Samuel Hunt,1 Isaac Child, Joseph Hay, and others will be readily recalled by all the older generation of Bostonians. Mr. Hay is still living.2 Dan Simpson and Si Smith were the drummer and fifer. Simpson attended the annual reunion of our regiment in 1884.3

The company drilled regularly on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, from September 23 to November 19, when it made its first public parade under command of Captain Swett, and was presented with “an elegant standard” by General Welles. If those to whom his speech was addressed did not have the opportunity to practise its precepts, its spirit animated the members of the Guards, as their record from 1861 to 1865 conclusively proved. A few extracts may well be given:—

“In a free republic a permanent and standing military force has ever been considered dangerous if not hostile to the liberties of the people. The framers of our happy constitution of government have preferred an appeal to the patriotism of the citizens; on the discipline, therefore, of its citizen soldiers the prosperity of the State essentially depends.

“We witness with pleasure this day your enlistment among the defenders of their country; the trust is sacred; the duties imposing. On your patriotism we may confidently rely. Valor and discipline will point to you the path to glory. Remember that the independence of your country was purchased with the toils and blood of your fathers, and in your hands the sacred deposit is placed for posterity. . . . As honorable citizens and undaunted soldiers cultivate harmony with each other, preserve subordination, perfect yourselves in discipline, and the reward you will receive for this valuable service will be the sublime satisfaction which results from the discharge of duty with fidelity and the grateful acknowledgments of your fellow-citizens.”

The standard was accepted on behalf of the Guards by Ensign Blake. In his response occurred the sentence which the Guards afterwards adopted as their motto:—

[note][note][note]



“. . . Although our country is engaged in a war contrary to the views of the people of New England, yet, if in the course of its events we should be called to the tented field by our venerable commander-in-chief ‘to repel invasion,’ ‘to suppress insubordination,’ or ‘to execute the laws of the Union,’ we pledge our life's blood to preserve this standard from dishonor. ‘Our Nation's honor is the bond of union. ’ ”

On this occasion it is noted as a fact worth remembering that the Guards “partook of cake and wine with General Welles,” and that they went “from the Common to the home of Captain Swett, where a superb collation was provided by his liberality.” All through the orderly book such notations as these are continually found, showing that the Guards had a keen appreciation for the pleasures of the table; and on the principle of transmitted traits we may account for the distaste with which many of its later members received the hard-tack and salt horse furnished them half a century afterwards.


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At a meeting held at Concert Hall the following evening, the company voted to present a piece of plate to General Welles “expressive of their respect and gratitude for his honorable patronage.” They also voted the thanks of the New England Guards to “the young lady who honored them with the elegant draft of the Roll of Members.”1

At the suggestion of General Welles, the officers of the Guards, with the approval of the majority of the members, applied to the

[note]



Governor and Council for a couple of cannon for the use of the corps. The matter was considered at the council meeting in January, 1813, but the officers having learned unofficially that the Governor did not feel authorized to act in the matter, the petition was, by consent of all parties interested, withdrawn, and General Boyd of the United States Army, commandant of the station, requested to loan the Guards the desired cannon. This request he kindly granted. On Jan. 19, 1813, “the weather was rainy and the roads wet with melting snow; but the Guards resolving unanimously to march, they proceeded to the Navy Yard at Charlestown, whence they brought the cannon into Boston and lodged them at the artillery gun-house at four o'clock P. M.” These were returned to the Navy Yard Feb. 9, 1814,1 at the request of General Cushing. On the same day it was voted that “the commissioned officers be appointed a committee to apply to the Legislature of the State for a pair of brass cannon for the use of the company.” There is no record of the time when these were received; but on June 13, 1814, the “Guards started for Charlestown with the six-pounders.” These cannon were in possession of the corps for several years. By some means they were lost, but were found a few years since, and for a while formed “the battery” at the residence of Colonel W. V. Hutchings, Roxbury. Recently they have been placed in the rooms of the Bostonian Society, in the Old State House. Each piece bears the inscription, “Cast & Mounted by Order of the Board of War for the N. E. G., 1814.”2


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February 18, 1813, the Guards volunteered escort duty to the committee on the reception of Commodore Bainbridge of the “Constitution,” who had just won the victory over the

[note][note]



“Guerrière.” Commander Rogers, Captain Hull, and others participated.

On Thursday morning, Sept. 2, 1813, the company paraded. The day was intensely hot. The orderly notes, “Number of members small, but these were resolute.” After taking their guns and baggage-wagons from the gun-house on Beacon Street, they proceeded by West Boston Bridge, West Cambridge, and the west side of Medford Pond to Gardner's Locks. On the way “we made the hills and vales resound with our animated songs.” Most of us undoubtedly recall many instances when, if our orderly sergeants had not been completely worn out with fatigue, they, too, might have made similar entries. Few of us will ever forget the inspiration we felt as we joined in the chorus of “John Brown” or “Kingdom Coming,” or listened to the Howard boys, or Ewer, or Powers, or Perkins, in one of their special songs.

When the Guards reached their destination, “the Lake of the Woods,” they pitched their tents; the encampment “was on streets running from front to rear, as practised in Europe.” On Friday they marched to Medford, and after partaking of the hospitality of the adjutant-general, Peter C. Brooks, established their camp on the hill in rear of Mr. Tidd's house. On Saturday they returned to Boston. The time had been well occupied in drill, target practice, and similar duties, not forgetting the social, which the Guards never neglected. The record in the orderly book is quite long, and concludes as follows: “Thus having the honor to be the first military corps that has marched out of town with complete camp equipage, made a regular encampment, and performed regular camp duty for three successive days since the establishment of our Commonwealth.”

Captain Swett having resigned (October, 1813), to accept position as Topographical Engineer of the Northern Army, on April 2, 1814, George Sullivan was elected captain and Lemuel Blake lieutenant.

Sunday, April 3, 1814, the commanding officer learned from Commodore Bainbridge that the frigate “Constitution” had been chased into Marblehead harbor by a seventy-four and two frigates of the enemy. The news was received at 5.30 A. M. The Guards assembled, formed, and started at 7 A. M. On the way to





Marblehead they made a short halt at the residence of Commodore Bainbridge in Charlestown. Soon after resuming their march they were recalled by orders from the Commodore directing them to return to Boston to take charge of some heavy ordnance which he intended to send to Marblehead. As the horses were not ready, the corps was dismissed till 11 P. M., when every member who had turned out in the morning reported for duty. Several others, whose notifications had not reached them early enough to enable them to join in the first march to Charlestown, were also present. News reached the armory about midnight that the enemy had retreated, and the Guards were dismissed. One of the older members,1 whose recollection of this parade was very distinct, said that Abbott Lawrence, who always manifested a very strong interest in the Guards, started in the morning shod in light dancing-pumps; that before reaching Charlestown he was practically barefooted; but, far from being discouraged, he hired a boy to go home for his boots, and met him carrying them towards Marblehead as the column was returning.

June 13, 1814, the Guards went into camp at Charlestown to guard the Chelsea bridge, which Commodore Bainbridge feared might be attacked. They remained there from Monday till Thursday, and in consideration of their services were invited to the launch of the seventy-four gun-ship, then almost completed, and to a collation at the residence of the Commodore after the launch.

During the week beginning Oct. 26, 1814, a detachment of the Guards under command of Ensign Pickman did garrison duty at Fort Strong. Charles Tidd and J. Howe, Jr., were the sergeants, and Abbott Lawrence and Richard Ward the corporals. In the regulations issued for the government of the detachment it is provided that the “commissary will furnish whatever spirit may be needed for the use of the of the mess.” It may be that from this incident the word “commissary” came to be synonymous with a rather well-known article which was sometimes confiscated by our boys, but to which the colonel decidedly objected unless liberally diluted with quinine or supplied under the guise of

[note]



“orange pickle.” It also indicates that social matters received some attention, to find a note saying, “It is expected that gentlemen will entertain their guests at their individual expense.”

Feb. 13, 1815, the morning on which was received the welcome news of the declaration of peace, the Guards fired salutes from the Common at noon and at sunset.

The Guards seem to have continued the custom of going into yearly camp (the “summer campaign,” as they called it); and although no direct statement to that effect appears in the orderly book, there are many entries which lead the reader to infer that this practice was not common to the other military organizations of the State. During the campaign of 1822 the orderly, in detailing the preparations made to receive guests, deems this fact worthy of record: “After dinner the tents were cleared of all rubbish. The members put on clean trousers.”

The encampment of 1823 was honored by the presence of John Quincy Adams, who reviewed the corps and highly complimented it.

June 14, 1824, appears this extraordinary resolution, especially surprising considering the reluctance with which their successors quitted the “soft side of a downy plank” when reveille sounded on a cold and disagreeable morning: “Voted, unanimously, that the company shall have a drill on Monday of each week at five o'clock in the morning untill the campaign.” The experiment was evidently a failure, as the vote was rescinded on June 24.

July 7, a destructive fire occurred on Beacon and Charles Streets. The Guards volunteered to protect the property, and forty minutes after the order had been issued by Captain Lyman two officers and forty members had reported at the armory for duty.

August 24, the company formed part of the escort on the occasion of Lafayette's visit to Boston, and were given the right of the line. The following day they went into annual encampment, where they were visited by General Lafayette, Governor Eustis, and a colonel of the British army who had “lost a limb at Waterloo.” The latter paid the Guards a very ambiguous compliment when he remarked that he “never saw such discipline in any camp as ours.”





Feb. 11, 1825, they attended the funeral of Governor Eustis, and on April 8 guarded the property saved from the Doane Street fire, “a destructive conflagration which burned upwards of fifty stores and houses, and in consequence of which upwards of one hundred and fifty people were thrown out of employment.”

June 17, they participated in the laying of the corner-stone of Bunker Hill Monument, and ten days later were called upon by the Governor to be ready to aid in suppressing a riot at the North End; but fortunately their services were not required.

Dec. 5, 1829, the buttons were ordered to be stamped “N. E. G.” The non-commissioned officers had evidently tired of acting as postmen, as at this meeting a vote was passed authorizing the employment of a suitable person to deliver notices.

Aug. 11, 1834, the convent at Charlestown was burned, and the Guards were on duty more or less from the 12th to the 16th. June 29, 1835, the orderly notes a vote that we “go on the Common to drill by the light of the pale moon;” whether a variety of artificial light or a new kind of tactics he does not condescend to explain.

On Sunday, July 11, 1837, they were ordered out, and under command of Ensign Bigelow (afterwards Chief Justice of the Commonwealth) performed valiant service during the Broad Street riot. They were the first infantry company that reported for duty.

The annual encampment of 1838 was held at Woburn in June. On one day it is estimated that they entertained over three thousand visitors; at one hotel more than seven hundred chaises and carriages were taken care of. The Guards were always social favorites, and that their successors were so regarded is proved by the throngs of visitors which crowded the camps of the Second, Twentieth, Twenty-fourth, and Forty-fourth, which were essentially N. E. G. regiments.

Aug. 31, 1839, they went to Barnstable and spent five days there during the centennial celebration of that town. Being disappointed in the arrival of the steamer they had engaged (it was detained by a heavy storm), they chartered a schooner, and with nearly two hundred members reached Barnstable before the hour appointed for the beginning of the exercises. It was





the first uniformed military company that had ever been seen there.

April 21, 1841, they performed escort duty at the funeral of President Harrison, and on June 17, 1843, joined in the procession incident to the ceremonies at the dedication of Bunker Hill Monument, the corner-stone of which they had assisted in laying eighteen years before.

The records of the Guards up to 1845 have been preserved, and from them most of the facts in the account thus far given have been gathered. Subsequent to that year it is difficult to obtain full particulars, as all official papers and documents were burned in the great fire of November, 1872. In consequence of this loss the most interesting portion of its history, from a few years previous to the breaking out of the war until the departure of the Forty-fourth, is largely a matter of tradition.

The interest of the members in the success of the Guards grew rapidly during the year or two previous to the outbreak of the Rebellion. The visit of the Ellsworth Zouaves of Chicago had a stimulating effect by showing how much was yet needed to bring the company up to the standard of excellence at which it aimed. As an indication that at that time they had made considerable progress in drill and discipline, Ellsworth is reported to have said that he anticipated having to compete with some well-drilled militia companies, but he did not expect to find one exhibiting so much proficiency as the Guards.

The annual festival in January, 1861, was largely attended, and was a gathering of much interest. It was on this occasion that Governor Andrew remarked that he had always been regarded as a peace man, and that he was so much a friend of peace that he was ready to fight for it.

Jan. 23, 1861, Captain Gordon presiding, Governor Andrew's celebrated Order No. 41 was read. In accordance with its

[note]



provisions every member, excepting one who excused himself on the ground of serious illness in his family, pledged himself to go to the front immediately should the company be called upon. A military critic, in commenting upon the Guards about this time, remarks: “The efficiency and improvement of the company in drill is owing very much to the skill and ability of Captain George H. Gordon, a graduate of West Point, who has done efficient service in the United States Army; and also to the efforts of the excellent orderly, Thomas G. Stevenson.”

Just previous to the outbreak of the War the “Tigers” and the “Guards” formed respectively Companies A and B of the Second Battalion of Infantry. March 11, 1861, Company B was set off as Company A of the Fourth Battalion; a new company, B, was formed, and Captain Gordon elected major.

The first call for troops was made April 15, 1861. As the quota of Massachusetts was filled by the regiments which were selected by Governor Andrew, the battalions were not required for duty, and on April 18 Major Gordon offered his services to the Governor to raise and command a regiment of volunteers for the war. This was probably the first offer of the kind received by the Commander-in-Chief. Major Gordon's letter of resignation states so clearly the reasons for his action, and gives so plainly his views of the proper functions of the organized militia, that it has been copied in full:—

In offering to the Governor of the Commonwealth my resignation of the office of Major of the Fourth Battalion of Infantry to assume command





of a regiment to be raised for service during the existence of our present unhappy difficulties, I deem it due to the members composing that battalion to state publicly my reasons therefor, as follows:—

Wherever any son of Massachusetts can render the most efficient service to the State, there, in my judgment, should his efforts be given. Although in the first outbreak of war reliance must necessarily be placed on our militia, in whose ranks are found men of the best classes in our community, yet for prolonged and continuous service a composition of forces like that constituting the Army of the General Government is indisputably the most efficient and serviceable, — a composition in which the character and intelligence of our best citizens must be used to organize and drill the bone and muscle of those upon whom we must rely for our armies.

Thus we may with a small body of well-instructed gentlemen impart information, raise into an organization, and render efficient very many large bodies of men, all of whom will in time become soldiers rather than undisciplined mobs of raw militia. Where, as in the present sudden emergency, any, even the least, capacity exists to impart information and efficiency to a company of privates, we cannot afford to waste precious material that may instruct others by calling it to render individual services as privates rather than officers.

My aim as chief of the New England Guards has been to impart to my command the necessary instruction to enable them to command, rather than to build up a company to serve as privates during the fatigues of a long campaign.

Massachusetts needs to-day military skill, science, and power to instruct. No man has a right to refuse his skill to drill the body of the militia of our State, even though he sacrifice that ambition, so near to a soldier's heart, to be the first to bleed for his country.

Believing firmly that my duty lies in the direction I have chosen, I have acted accordingly; and knowing how hard it is for those of my command with whom I have been so intimately associated, and for whom individually I entertain a respect that can never abate, and whose bravery and patriotism each and every member will show in the right direction, to be kept back from the foremost in this call of their country, I remain, ever devoted to the Constitution of the United States and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts,

George H. Gordon.1

This letter shows conclusively what had been his ambition. How well he succeeded, let the fact that his command of but two companies furnished to the army during the war upwards of two

[note]



hundred commissioned officers and a large number of non-commissioned officers and privates fully attest. Captain Putnam said at a meeting of the Guard Association held some time after the close of the war, that out of one hundred and sixty-one members who were on duty at Fort Independence in the spring of 1861, before the close of the year one hundred and sixteen had been commissioned and several had enlisted in the ranks. At the same meeting Colonel Hutchins said that of the whole number who were at the fort all but fifteen had gone into the army within a very short time after their return to the city.

That the wives and mothers of the members were as patriotic as their husbands and sons it is needless to say, as women are always foremost in any work calling for self-sacrifice. On the same day that Major Gordon tendered his services, Mrs. J. Thomas Stevenson, the mother of our former orderly, captain, major, and brigadier-general, the beloved and lamented Thomas G. Stevenson, acting as the representative of three hundred Boston ladies who were willing to go to the front as nurses if they should be needed, called on the Governor and offered their services.

April 25, 1861, in accordance with the following orders, the Guards went on duty at Fort Independence:—

Headquarters, Boston, April 24, 1861.

Special Order No. 75.

Captain Thomas G. Stevenson, commanding Fourth Battalion, First Brigade, First Division, is hereby ordered, with the battalion under his command, to report at — o'clock A. M., April 25, at the State House, thence to proceed, after being supplied with the necessary arms and equipments, to Fort Independence, on Castle Island, in Boston Harbor, to garrison and protect said fort until further orders.

These troops are charged with this duty in pursuance of their own patriotic wishes, and are to be supplied with rations by the State, but to perform the service without compensation.

By command, William Schouler,Adjutant-General.

Headquarters, Fourth Battalion Infantry, M. V. M. Boston, April 25, 1861.

You are hereby ordered to appear at the armory of the Fourth Battalion of Infantry, Boylston Hall, to-day at 12 o'clock, for active service at Fort





Independence, in dark pantaloons and cap. There will be provided by the State, overcoat, knapsack, blanket, two pairs of stockings, two woollen shirts. You will provide yourself with towels, brushes, etc., and one extra pair of boots or shoes.

Per order, Thomas G. Stevenson,Captain Commanding.

Before leaving for Fort Independence the Guard was presented with a beautiful silk flag by the young ladies of Mr. Caleb Emery's school. Each member was also given a good serviceable fatigue-jacket by Mr. Parker Whitney, of the Cadets.

The battalion went to Fort Independence under command of Captain Thomas G. Stevenson. Company A, Lieutenant Osborn, had fifty-seven guns, and Company B, Lieutenant Otis, sixty-three guns. May 4, 1861, Captain Stevenson was elected Major. On May 11 the roster was as follows:—

MajorThomas G. Stevenson.
AdjutantJohn F. Anderson.
SurgeonDr. Hall Curtis.
QuartermasterWilliam V. Hutchings.
Company A, CaptainFrancis A. Osborn.
First Lieut.John F. Prince, Jr.
Second Lieut.E. M. Dennie.
Third Lieut.Charles H. Hooper.
Fourth Lieut.Stephen Cabot.
Company B, CaptainR. H. Stevenson.
First Lieut.William C. Otis.
Second Lieut.Francis W. Palfrey.
Third Lieut.John Q. Adams.
Fourth Lieut.J. R. Gregerson.

The complete list of the commanders of the Guards is as follows:—

Samuel Swettelected Sept. 22, 1812.
George Sullivanelected April 2, 1814.
George W. Lymanelected May 6, 1817.
Franklin Dexterelected Aug. 22, 1820.
Charles G. Loringelected May 23, 1823.
William H. Gardinerelected May 3, 1825.
William F. Otiselected May 6, 1828.





Edward G. Loringelected June 8, 1829.
Richard S. Fayelected March 31, 1831.
Thomas Dwightelected April 23, 1835.
Alanson Tuckerelected May 3, 1836.
H. H. W. Sigourneyelected April 4, 1838.
George Tyler Bigelowelected Jan. 15, 1839.
Charles Gordonelected Jan. 9, 1841.
J. Putnam Bradleeelected March 20, 1845.
Joseph L. Henshawelected March 16, 1852.
George T. Lymanelected Jan. 28, 1857.
Harrison Ritchieelected Dec. 30, 1859.
George H. Gordonelected 1860.
Thomas G. Stevensonelected May 4, 1861.
Francis L. Leeelected 1862.

The following extracts from reports of visitors to the fort, selected from newspapers published at that time, will indicate the opinion which was generally entertained of the organization:—

“Everything looks like business, and West Point Cadets are not put through a more rigid drill by more competent officers.”

“ . . . The first impression which strikes the observer is that of discipline. The commander, Captain Stevenson, has risen rapidly from the ranks, evincing peculiar capacity for military discipline and command; and we may add that he is well supported by an enthusiastic and excellent body of officers and men.”

“The Fourth Battalion of Infantry, at present stationed at Fort Independence, is composed for the most part of sons of wealthy merchants in this city, and on this account they are inclined to be sensitive, fearing that the peculiar service to which they have been appointed will be construed as an indication of their desire to play the gentleman soldier and an unwillingness to be called into the field, which is far from the case. . . . These young men at Fort Independence are by strict discipline perfecting and inuring themselves in preparation for the real hardships of war and active service into which they may soon be called. Let them rest assured that their zeal and patriotism will not be questioned, though they temporarily occupy Fort Independence instead of Fort Monroe or Pickens.”

“The Fourth Battalion of Infantry, Major Stevenson (without disparaging other corps which show as creditable proficiency in their drill), stands at the head of the military organizations of this State for precision of movement, skilful performance of complicated manœuvres, and general discipline. There have been and there are companies which the Fourth





would find hard to beat in rapid and correct execution of the manual; but there are none as yet that can compare with the Fourth in the other qualities which constitute an incomparable military association.”

The term of service at the fort was utilized to the best possible advantage. All of our boys can bear witness to the rare skill of General Stevenson as a commander, and have felt the personal magnetism which affected all with whom he came in contact. He was fairly idolized by his men, and it is doubtful if any one less peculiarly fitted for the position could have maintained as strict discipline.

May 26, in accordance with special order No. 249, dated May 21, they were relieved by the Fourth Battalion of Rifles, under command of Major Leonard. On this occasion was performed for the first time the “Fourth Battalion Quickstep,” arranged by P. S. Gilmore, which immediately became such a favorite, and to the inspiriting strains of which we have all marched so many times. On reaching the Common they were received by the veteran, Colonel Swett, their first commander, and there gave a dress-parade and battalion-drill, “to the delight of the spectators, among whom was found many a military critic who found no cause for disparagement.”

Colonel Gordon's regiment, the Second, drew largely on the battalion for its officers, as did also the Sixteenth, Twentieth, and Twenty-fourth Massachusetts. There was scarcely a regiment raised in the eastern part of this State in which the Guards were not represented, either among the field, line, or staff; and many were commissioned in the service of other States. Of six Boston officers whose portraits appear in the third volume of the “Memorial History of Boston,” — General Stevenson, General Bartlett, Colonel Revere, Colonel Shaw, Lieutenant-Colonel Dwight, and Major Abbott, — four received their early military training as privates in the New England Guards, as did the author of the chapter (Francis W. Palfrey), who rose to the rank of brigadier-general, and, subsequent to the war, was for many years in command of the Cadets.

In August, 1861, the battalion volunteered its services; but on the 21st or 22d of the month they received an answer from the War Department refusing to accept them as a battalion. On the





29th of that month they voted to raise a regiment, and on the 31st the official authority for so doing was granted Major Stevenson. Most of the line, and all of the field and staff, were selected from the Guards, and several members, who were afterwards commissioned, enlisted in the ranks. This regiment, the Twenty-fourth, formed a part of the Burnside expedition, and did not leave the State till the early part of December. Just previous to its departure, Past-Commanders Swett, Lyman, Loring, Gardiner, Fay, Tucker, Bigelow, Charles Gordon, Bradlee, Henshaw, and Ritchie presented to Colonel Stevenson a horse and suitable equipments.

In the latter part of 1860, when the prospect of civil war became imminent, there was a general desire on the part of citizens, young and old, to learn at least the rudiments of military drill. Clubs for this purpose were organized all over the State. One of the largest and most successful of these was commanded by a Frenchman named Salignac, and at one time numbered nearly, if not quite, one thousand members. A fencing-club, in which several who were afterwards commissioned in our regiment had for a long time been interested, was the nucleus. Soon after the actual outbreak of hostilities the Government recalled the arms and equipments which had been loaned to the drill-club, and it consequently disbanded. Several who were unwilling to relinquish their military lessons then organized the “Massachusetts Rifle Club,” and engaged as instructor a Mr. Pease, who was a drill-sergeant in the Hythe School, England. Mr. Pease, removing to the West, was succeeded by a Prussian officer of artillery, named Steffen. Under his tuition the instruction given was extended to embrace field fortification, grand tactics, and various other subjects, the knowledge of which would prove valuable to an officer in active service. They secured the privilege of using the Fourth Battalion armory for drill and for the storage of their arms and equipments. The regiments which had already left for the seat of war had drawn so heavily on the Guards for their officers, and so many of its members had gone to the front, that the corps was completely demoralized, scarcely a corporal's guard remaining at home. In the winter of 1861-1862 the Massachusetts Rifle Club united with the Guards. Major Francis L. Lee, who had been in command of the former organization,





was elected to the command of the battalion, and renewed interest was manifested immediately.

In May, 1862, at the time of Banks's retreat, the militia of Massachusetts were called out with the expectation that they would go to the front. (General Order No. 14, May 26, 1862.) The order for them to assemble on Boston Common was issued on the 26th, and on the 27th some four thousand had reported. The Boston and Salem Cadets were mustered in immediately, and were sent to Fort Warren to relieve the companies stationed there in guarding the Rebel prisoners, as the latter were to be sent to the seat of war. Before the rest of the militia could be mustered it was found that under the law they might be held for a period of eight months, and with the exception of the New England Guards, every company that had reported refused to be sworn in for longer than three months. Some of the companies were unanimous in their refusal and others nearly so. Under these circumstances, the Governor telegraphed to the War Department for authority to send them for three months. After some delay he received for answer that, owing to certain concentrations, the men would not be needed, and they were accordingly dismissed. The Fourth Battalion was mustered out on the 28th (General Order No. 16, May 27, 1862), making their term of service just three days, having been mustered in on the 26th.

The Boston “Herald” of the 27th says: “The strange appearance of one of our own corps (‘Corporal’ Zenas T. Haines, of Company D) in Zouave dress, with a change of clothes strapped upon his back, at an unusually early hour in the editorial room, indicated the promptness with which the corps responded to the Governor's call.”

The roster of the battalion at that time was: Major, Francis L. Lee; Adjutant, Charles C. Soule; Quartermaster, Charles H. Dalton. Company A: Captain, E. C. Cabot; First Lieutenant, E. M. Dennie; Second Lieutenant, J. H. Lombard. Company B: Captain, J. R. Gregerson; First Lieutenant, J. R. Kendall; Second Lieutenant, F. W. Reynolds.

When it was expected that the battalion was going to the front, a very large number of young men joined. On the 27th,





Special Order No. 104 authorized the formation of a third company, and directed the election of officers. No record can be found, however, that officers were chosen. The students of Harvard College offered a company to be attached to the battalion, and the President and Faculty approved, provided it should be found that their services were needed.

One of the newspapers, in referring to the matter editorially, says: “But their action yesterday, in such marked contrast with that of other corps in this city, will be remembered to their credit, and give this gallant battalion an addition to their previous honorable prestige.”

On the 28th Governor Andrew presented the Guards with a flag, and in his speech said: “Your conduct is what might be expected, and an earnest of what may be relied upon for the Fourth Battalion; and I pledge you that during the brief space that I may occupy my present position with regard to the militia, there shall be no position of honor within my gift higher than that assigned to the Fourth Battalion.”

Aug. 4, 1862, the call came for 300,000 nine months’ men. August 5, the battalion voted unanimously to serve for that length of time, but having had some experience of the difficulty of getting a battalion accepted, on the 7th they voted to raise a regiment, and before the meeting adjourned between two and three hundred members had signed the rolls. The battalion was swallowed up in the regiment.

About the time the Forty-fourth went into camp, the older members voted to organize a “Home Guard,” or “Veteran Association.” This society existed for some time. The departure of the Forty-fourth had taken away nearly all the active members. After its return a large number of those who had formerly belonged to the Guards went into service again as commissioned officers; the others felt they were too few in numbers to keep up the active company; many thought that it was no time to try to build up a military company for home duty when every available man was needed in the field. For these and other reasons no attempt was made to form an active company until 1872 or 1873, when at a meeting of the “Veteran Association” the subject was referred to, and for two or three years a





strong effort was made to revive the charter, but without a favorable result.

The New England Guards was organized in September, 1812. It closed its existence, September, 1862, when the Forty-fourth Regiment went into camp and the battalion was merged in the regiment. For fifty years it had had an honorable record, and on its roll of members are inscribed the names of some of the most prominent, best-known, and most widely influential of the citizens of Boston.

At the annual meeting in 1862 Captain Charles G. Loring said:—

“Why have the New England Guards excelled so much in military discipline, in moral character, and always enjoyed so much of the public confidence? It was because in 1812, when this venerable man (Colonel Swett), who was then its commander, and who commanded it so nobly and so gloriously, — it was because he and those associated with him in getting up the New England Guards took care that it should be composed exclusively of gentlemen and men of good moral character. From that time to this, the New England Guards has been, as I believe, a most exemplary and moral company.”

The statement has been made, and so far as can be ascertained it is believed to be correct, that the New England Guards is the only military organization in this country that ever lost its charter in consequence of sending so many of its members into active service that there was not a sufficient number left at home to keep it alive.










[Illustration:

1 Lt. Howe.
2 Lt. Stebbius.
3 Lt. Briggs.
4 Lt. White.
5 Lt. Newell.
6 Capt. Smith.
7 Lt. Blake.
8 Capt. Griswold.
9 Capt. Sullivan.
10 Adjt. Hinckley.
11 Capt. Lombard.
12 Lt. Lombard.
13 Chaplain Hall.
14 Capt. Kendall.
15 Lt. Col. Cabot.
16 Capt. S. W. Richardson.
17 Lt. Brown.
18 Frank Lee.
19 Col. Lee.
20 Capt. Reynolds.
21 Maj. Dabney.
22 Lt. Weld.
23 Lt. Hartwell.
24 Dr. Fisher.
25 Lt. Kendall.
26 Qr. Mr. Bush.
27 Lt. Field.
28 Lt. Odiorne.
29 Lt. Coffin.
30 Lt. [illegible text].
31 Lt. Forbes.
32 Lt. Taylor.
GROUP OF OFFICERS, IN FRONT OF BARRACKS, READVILLE, SEPT, 1862.
HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO. BOSTON, MASS.

]





CHAPTER II. ORGANIZATION, AND CAMP AT READVILLE.

AUGUST 4, 1862, President Lincoln issued a call for 300,000 men to serve nine months. The proportion to be furnished by Massachusetts, “by some process of arithmetic known only to the authorities in Washington,” was fixed at 19,090. The quota was to be raised by “draft, in accordance with orders from the War Department and the laws of the several States.” These orders were issued August 9, and additional ones sent August 14. Governor Andrew was desirous of avoiding the necessity of a draft, and on August 8 he wrote the President:—

“. . . I am confident of getting more volunteers and militia this month by enlistments, and by wheeling militia into line, than conscription could bring in the same time. Meanwhile, will be preparing machinery for draft.

“Our people want nothing to spur them but assurance from Washington that the enemy shall be conquered, and right vindicated at all hazards by our arms.”

In filling this requisition for troops he acted on the plan here advised.

August 5, at a regular meeting of the Fourth Battalion, it was unanimously voted that the Governor be petitioned to authorize





the corps to recruit to a full regiment for the nine months’ service. The request received prompt attention and resulted in the following order:—

Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Headquarters, Boston, Aug. 7, 1862.

Special Order No. 597.

The Fourth Battalion of Infantry, First Brigade, First Division, M. V. M., is authorized to recruit to the size of a regiment of ten companies of ninety-eight enlisted men each, conforming in all respects both as to the quality of the enlisted men and otherwise to the militia laws of the United States, each man in the regiment being required to sign an agreement to serve upon any requisition of the Government of the United States issued during the present year as a militia man for the term of nine months consecutively, if orders therefor shall be issued to his regiment or any portion thereof by the Commander-in-Chief of the militia of Massachusetts.

Major-General Andrews, commanding First Division, will transmit this order.

By command of his Excellency, John A. Andrew,Governor and Commander-in-Chief.

William Brown,A. A. G.

On the same day Special Order No. 596, worded like the above, gave permission to the Second Battalion, “Tigers,” to recruit to a regiment, which afterwards became the Forty-third; and on August 11 the following order authorized the formation of the Forty-fifth Regiment:

Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Headquarters, Boston, Aug. 11, 1862.

Special Order No. 607.

Captain Charles R. Codman, of Boston, Adjutant of the Company of Cadets, First Division, M. V. M., is hereby authorized to recruit for a regiment of infantry in the M. V. M., under the auspices of said company of Cadets.

By command of his Excellency, John A. Andrew,Governor and Commander-in-Chief.

William Schouler,Adjutant-General.

A meeting of the Fourth Battalion was held at the armory, Boylston Hall, on the evening of August 7. It was called to order by Captain Cabot. The reading of Special Order No. 597 was received with cheers, and a grand rush was made for the





enrolment lists, each wishing to get his name as near the head as possible. Nearly every one present signed the roll for the new regiment, and before the meeting adjourned almost three hundred men had joined. Major Lee had been passing the summer at his place at Westport, N. Y. As soon as he learned from the newspapers that the call for nine months’ troops had been made, anticipating the action that the battalion would take, he started for Boston, and reached the armory just as the men had begun to sign the roll. Before adjournment he suggested that each member make himself a “recruiting committee of one,” and added, that as all could not go as officers and as undoubtedly we had a choice of associates, this plan would be much more likely to secure those who would be agreeable than the usual one of a regular recruiting headquarters and acceptance of all who might choose to volunteer.

Authority was immediately granted to Messrs. J. H. Lombard, H. D. Sullivan, Spencer W. Richardson, Charles Storrow, Charles Hunt, J. R. Kendall, and F. W. Reynolds, all of whom had been officers in the battalion, to raise companies. These gentlemen selected their assistants, who were afterwards commissioned lieutenants. James M. Richardson, who had been a captain in the Twenty-first, and William V. Smith, who had been a lieutenant in the Eighteenth, also received authority. A company recruited exclusively in Newton by John M. Griswold was afterwards added.

Each member of the battalion seemed inclined to follow the advice of Major Lee, and worked as if the success of the regiment depended on his individual exertions. Most of the companies made the Boylston Hall armory their headquarters; but Company E, Captain Spencer W. Richardson, located at the rooms of the Mercantile Library Association. Captain Richardson was an ex-president of that society, which took a strong interest in the company he commanded. August 11, it passed a resolution making all who should enlist in Company E members of the Library Association.

At this time the interest in filling the quota of the city was most intense. Besides our regiment, there were being recruited in Boston and immediate vicinity the Forty-third, Forty-fifth,





Forty-seventh, and several companies for the Forty-second. The Fifth had three companies from Charlestown, one each from Somerville, Medford, and Watertown; and the Sixth, one from Cambridge. By general agreement many of the merchants closed their places of business at 2 or 3 P. M., and the afternoon was devoted to the work of encouraging enlistments.

On the 8th the battalion paraded, some wearing the “Chasseur” uniform and some clad in citizen's dress. Other parades were made while the regiment was being formed. On the 20th we had about five hundred in the ranks. August 19, eight companies having reported the minimum number of enlisted men, the following order was issued:—

Special Order No. 650.

The Fourth Battalion, First Brigade, First Division, M. V. M., will be forthwith organized into a regiment of ten companies and designated as the Forty-fourth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteer Militia.

Rolis of companies enlisted by J. H. Lombard, J. R. Kendall, Charles Hunt, H. D. Sullivan, Spencer W. Richardson, Charles Storrow, F. W. Reynolds, and W. V. Smith having been legally returned to the Adjutant-General, the companies will be immediately organized by the election of officers and attached to said regiment. The usual ten days’ notice for the election of company and field officers will be waived.

Major-General Andrews is charged with the execution of this order.

By command of his Excellency, John A. Andrew,Governor and Commander-in-Chief.

William Schouler,Adjutant-General.

August 29, the regiment went into camp at Readville, quite near the station, on the ground between the Boston and Providence and the New York and New England Railroads, south of the junction, the field being just east of the embankment of the latter road. The barracks — a separate building for each company — were built very nearly at right angles with the embankment, and the field in which we drilled and held our dress-parades was east and north of the barracks.

During the ten days intervening between the issuing of Special Order No. 650 and going into camp, quite a large number of men had joined, so that when the regiment reported at Readville it contained about the maximum number allowed by law. Still,





recruits appeared who wished to belong to the Forty-fourth, and as it was very probable that the critical surgical examination our surgeons proposed making would cause the rejection of many who accompanied the regiment to camp, the late comers were accepted with the understanding that they should be selected to fill the anticipated vacancies. At one time there were nearly twelve hundred names on the rolls of the regiment. At the date that we were authorized to elect officers none of the towns in the State had offered bounties to the nine months’ troops; and when we reached Readville with full ranks, comparatively few had taken action on the matter.1 The State paid no bounty to the nine months’ troops. Although some of our men collected the town bounties, to which they were entitled under the provisions of the several votes granting them, they had enlisted before the votes were passed, and we think we can justly claim the credit of having been the last regiment recruited before the bounty system went into general operation.

Among our members was Zenas T. Haines, Corporal in Company D, a journalist by profession, who was the regular correspondent of the Boston “Herald” while the regiment was in service. His pictures of camp life are so vivid and complete that they will be quoted frequently, as even after the lapse of twenty years it would be difficult to improve his descriptions. In his first letter, dated “Barracks at Readville, Aug. 30, 1862,” he says:—

“. . . The Forty-fourth came one day too soon to barrack at Readville, but it was their own fault. The fine new barracks just erected there were not completed, and will not be until to-night, although now habitable, and comfortable as heart can desire. But all have had to work to produce this comfortable state of affairs so early, and the ‘school of the soldier’ has been neglected to-day.

“Our first night in barracks was exceedingly jolly, as was to have been expected. Poor devils who depend on good sleep and a good deal of it for what vitality they can muster, might have probably sworn last night if

[note]



they had been obliged to barrack at Readville. Not that the boys were riotous, or even obstreperous, but simply jolly. We supped on hard bread, and coffee hotter than the crater of Vesuvius. Then, pipes and cigars lighted, the early evening was devoted to music — songs of home. After we had retired to our bunks, music of another character ‘beguiled’ the hours of the night.

“Your correspondent slept not at all the first night in barrack, for obvious reasons. The inside musical performances opened with a barnyard chorus by the entire company, followed by rapid, unintermitting succession of dog, hog, pig, and rooster solos, duets and quartets, single and combined, which continued in great volume until the unexpected arrival of the captain and his lieutenants, who are unfortunately without any ear for music. After a short intermission the performance was resumed in a greatly modified condition, commencing with admirable imitations of
[Illustration:


]

chickens astray from the shelter of the maternal wing, and coming to a pause with the low, small, satisfied twitterings of chickens in clover.

“Then followed sounds less artistic, but not less suggestive to the general appreciation, intermingled with snatches of conversation of a highly festive character. The good wit of the occasion rendered endurable what would otherwise have been an intolerable nuisance to any one wanting sleep as badly as your humble servant; but at last, as it must be confessed, even this element failed to satisfy a scientific audience. Objurgations, not loud but deep, came from a number of bunks where sleep had failed to come, or tarried a moment to be cruelly banished.

“To-day we have been applying finishing touches to our quarters, and exercising in company movements, by squads, etc. The turn-out at reveille this morning at five o'clock was a new sensation, even to the ‘Corporal.’ The style of the morning's ablutions was a novelty too.





Instead of basins and soap at the barracks, we were ordered to ‘fall in with towels,’ and then were positively marched to a pond to wash our hands and faces. Oh the degradation of military rule! Such is war.”

This exuberance wore off quickly, as none of us felt inclined to keep awake all night after several hours’ severe drill during the day, with the certainty that at five o'clock the next morning the unwelcome reveille would rouse us from our luxurious slumbers.

Almost as soon as we reached camp one quality was developed which seemed to be characteristic of the Forty-fourth, that of making themselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit, and considering the ornamental as well as the useful. “Corporal” writes, September 6:—

“ . . . There is some emulation among the companies in the way of neatness, convenience, and decorations about their several barracks. The palm is due to Company D for an early display of flags upon the outside, and also for certain novel decorations of the interior in the shape of one or two delicate articles of apparel probably wafted by the wind from a washing hung out to dry.

“Company F having had the temerity to erect a flagstaff taller than Company D's, the latter company extended its mast a few feet over that of its neighboring barrack. This ambition to excel exhibits itself in a variety of ways. Some of the barracks are prettily lighted with lanterns, and in one or two of them the bunks are lettered and ornamented in a very artistic manner. Afterwards Captain Spencer Richardson's boys secured the tallest pole which could be found in the neighboring woods, and at the present writing their flag floats the highest. The barracks occupied by the companies of Captain Lombard, Captain Hunt, and Captain Kendall also have creditable displays of bunting, and contribute to give the encampment a beautiful and animated appearance. . . .

“As our stay at Readville protracts, we are gathering about us many little comforts and luxuries which we shall probably have to sacrifice in the event of a sudden retirement before an enemy. But while we stay here our purpose is to make ourselves extremely comfortable; and in this purpose a numerous constituency of friends are lending their assistance in the way of hampers and baskets and bundles of fruit and other delicacies.”

A very pleasant feeling existed between the officers and the rank and file, which was manifested by the presentation to the former of some little token of regard from the men in their commands.





Swords, sashes, and belts were given to Captain Sullivan of Company D; Captain Spencer W. Richardson of Company E; Horace S. Stebbins, Orderly Sergeant of Company F; Frank W. Hatch, Orderly Sergeant of Company G; George L. Tripp, Orderly Sergeant of Company D; Clarence Sumner, Orderly Sergeant of Company I; Charles A. Cunningham, Orderly Sergeant of Company C; Eben R. Buck, Orderly Sergeant of Company B; Albert W. Edmands, Orderly Sergeant of Company A; and Captain F. W. Reynolds of Company K. Lieutenants Blake and Stebbins, of Company D, were presented with shoulder-straps, and Captain James M. Richardson, of Company A, with a very handsome meerschaum pipe. “Uncle” Dan Simpson was not forgotten, the boys of Company C giving him a gayly decorated Turkish fez.

Nothing produces more pleasure in camp than music, and the Forty-fourth Regiment was especially fortunate in having a large number of singers in its ranks.1 Scarcely an evening passed during our whole term of service without a gathering of the choir, and the performers were always sure of a sympathetic and appreciative audience. Recognizing how pleasant it would be to have the words and music of our accustomed songs in some convenient form for reference, Mr. Charles White, of Milton, father of Lieutenant White of Company G and Orderly White of Company E, kindly offered to defray the expenses of such a publication and furnish a copy to each member of the regiment. The compilation was made by Charley Ewer of Company D, and in addition to many familiar and well-known airs the book contained some original songs and original music furnished by our members. The “Forty-fourth Regimental Song-Book” was voted to be a complete success.

When we went to Readville, Colonel Lee was placed in command of camp, with military jurisdiction over a territorial radius of one mile.2 Although neither of our field officers believed in the principle of total abstinence, they realized the evil influence

[note][note]



caused by undue indulgence in intoxicating drinks, and for this reason, as well as to set an example to the men under their command, they mutually resolved not to taste any wine or ardent spirits while they were in the service of the United States, except on advice of the surgeon, — a resolution to which they scrupulously adhered. Colonel Lee in particular felt very strongly about this matter, and waged a relentless war against “traffickers in the ardent” who attempted to establish booths near our camp. Quite a number of enterprising speculators engaged in the business; but the confiscation of their stock in trade, and frequently of their building as well, caused their project to end in financial wreck.

“Corporal's” letter of September 13 was quite “gossipy,” and touched on several matters of interest to the boys:—

“ . . . We have received an order from the Commander-in-Chief of all the forces in Massachusetts1 prohibiting us from bathing at all Christian hours of the day, out of regard to the sensitive nerves of somebody. As nobody but soldiers live near the ponds, it is to be supposed that the order was promulgated as a measure of consideration of the naiads and nymphs habitant hereabout. We heartily wish that everybody was like Cæsar's wife.

“The ‘women of America,’ including a few Boston friends, have sent us in a grand lunch of Washington pies, coffee, and cold meats. Where these dainties went to is a profound mystery to the non-commissioned officers and privates, but it is doubtless ‘all right.’

“At dress-parade the other day Miss Josie Gregg, of Boston, through Colonel Lee, presented us an elegant flag, and the gift was acknowledged by three cheers. . . .

“Flag competition continues, and now every barrack shows its bunting, that of Company D again floating the highest. Thursday morning Company F's flagstaff presented to the eyes of an astonished camp the same small white bifurcated garment which had previously served to decorate the interior of a neighboring barrack. The boys are bound not to ‘’have their selves,’ as Uncle Sim Wilbur used to say. We now hope, however, for better things for our company, having sent the sergeants to a tent by

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themselves, and conferred the responsibility of keeping good order upon the corporals.

“Captain James Richardson's company give their barrack a beautiful, almost Oriental appearance at evening by the introduction of numerous Chinese lanterns. In every barrack the fine arts are still cultivated in the lettering and ornamentation of the bunks. One is labelled ‘Squirrel's Nest;’ another, ‘Penguin's Nest;’ another, ‘Sleeping Beauties;’ another, ‘Damon and Pythias;’ another, ‘Siamese Twins.’ Some graduates of Tufts College, who occupy a bunk together, inform the world in good classical phrase that it is sweet to die for your country. They may well say that, if living in the barracks at Readville be dying for your country. ‘Corporal’ cannot but look with amazement upon these classical young patriots elevated upon their bunks and devouring home dainties over this conspicuous motto, — ‘Dulce et decorum est pro Patria mori!’ . . .

“The quarters of Company G, Captain Hunt, are tastefully ornamented with evergreen, and are much admired by visitors; but it is on all hands conceded that the barrack of Company D, thanks to the oversight of our admirable Corporal Waterman, is most noticeable for its complete order and neatness. It is whispered that we are to have a piano, if we remain here much longer, and then, with such singers among us as Charley Ewer, from the Warren Street choir, we reckon upon very good times in the musical line.

“Yesterday was a great day with the men of the Forty-fourth. We were mustered into the service of the United States by companies. The event was hailed with cheering and general rejoicing; and then the uniforms provided by Uncle Sam were opened for inspection. Many members of the regiment had already provided themselves with garments of superior quality, made to measure; and those who had not taken this precaution regretted it the more when they came to see the half-cotton, shoddy, slouchy stuff sent to them through the State authorities. Colonel Lee, who has a natural abhorrence of shams in all shapes, advised his men not to draw such uniforms, and promised to assist them in procuring garments made to measure. The men gladly acted upon the suggestion of the Colonel, and will clothe themselves, not less as a matter of neatness and taste than of economy.

“Last evening the barrack of Company F, Captain Storrow, was the centre of much attraction. The parents of the artists Cobb were present, and the delighted spectators of a country breakdown and other festive demonstrations. Mrs. Cobb delivered a little impromptu poem, and Mr. Cobb made a very stirring address, both of which were vociferously applauded. The Cobb brothers sang and played exquisitely, and the occasion was one of touching interest. . . .

“We have been provided with muskets for guard duty only, and of course have much work to perform in the manual of arms drill before we





shall be fit to take the field. In the facings we have made commendable progress, and have been highly complimented by Colonel Lee in this respect.

“Since the Forty-fourth went into barracks they have been favored with the services of the Boston Brass Band, under the lead of Mr. Flagg. It is said the expense is to be defrayed by an assessment upon the regiment. Considering that the mass of the regiment have had no voice in the selection of a band, a number of persons are inclined to consider this a little ‘rough.’ What ‘Corporal’ and many others wish to suggest in this connection is, that a few of our rich friends in Boston unite to defray the expense of a good band, which shall accompany us to the seat of war. It is thought they would be pleased to confer this substantial benefit upon the regiment, and thus acknowledge the important assistance rendered by the Fourth Battalion of Infantry in raising the quota of Boston. Failing in this, a set of instruments would be gratefully acknowledged, and an excellent band would then be recruited from the regiment.”

In his letter of September 20, he says:—

“ . . . We reasonably expect that a week of furloughs will be succeeded by work. Some of our little captains are threatening us hard. More drill and less guard duty will not be unacceptable to the poor fellows whose duty as sentinels for the past week has only been relieved by the relaxation of police guard work or scavenger service. Bootless has been the plea, ‘I was on guard yesterday, and police guard the day before.’ The orderly knew it. There was no help for it. It costs hard work, but we have the cleanest camp in Christendom, if we may believe visitors. Captain McLaughlin, our mustering-in officer, was profuse in his commendations of the Forty-fourth. It was, he said, the most orderly and the cleanest regiment he ever mustered in. The company rolls were the neatest which had ever come under his inspection, and the number of absentees (one sick and one unavoidably absent) the smallest in his experience. We do not wish to be always elevating our horn, but we must record history.”

One compliment attributed to Captain McLaughlin, “Corporal” neglects to mention. He is reported to have said that although he had been detailed as mustering officer since the outbreak of the war, he never before had mustered in a whole regiment on the same day. A rather critical examination of the “Record of the Massachusetts Volunteers,” issued by authority of the State, seems to prove this statement, except so far as it might refer to a few of the three months’ regiments, to be correct.





“Since my last letter there have been added to the list of decorated barracks those of Company B, Captain Griswold, and Company A, Captain Richardson. Company D has introduced Chinese lanterns, small flags, and the arms of the New England Guards, neatly painted by one of our numerous artists, to wit, Fred. Sayer, the lingual prodigy and pet of his corps. . . .

“A large proportion of the regiment is now uniformed in neatly fitting suits, having no relationship to the contractor's shoddy which was attempted to be foisted upon us. Our appearance at the dress-parades is creditable, and every pleasant afternoon crowds of spectators honor us with their presence. The number of pretty girls that adorn these occasions, coming
[Illustration:


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as they do laden with offerings of fruit and flowers for their favorites, is by no means the least interesting feature of the afternoon displays. The angels even besiege us in our barracks, and although we are delighted to see them, they seem sometimes to forget that we have no retiring rooms, and that we must perforce make our toilets in our bunks, or not make them at all. ‘Corporal’ wants it distinctly understood that he don't care anything about this, personally. He speaks for the modest man of his company. . . .

“Your correspondent could expatiate by the half column of the social fascinations of this life in barracks; of the genial friendships formed; of





the glorious hearts discovered; of the roaring wit brought out by this free-and-easy companionship; of the freedom from conventional restraints and the care of every-day pursuits. Do not, dear reader, think us too jolly and comfortable for soldiers, but rather thank Heaven for the sunny side and recompense of military life, which, perhaps, after all, has very feebly offset the shadows through which lies the pathway of him who takes up arms in defence of liberty, imperilled as it is to-day.”

The crowds of visitors which thronged our camp attested our popularity. If our friends enjoyed coming to Readville, it is equally certain that we enjoyed receiving them. Many a susceptible young soldier lost his heart during those delightful moonlight promenades, and an interesting chapter might be written on this subject, could the number of matrimonial engagements which resulted from these mild flirtations be correctly ascertained. J. J. Wyeth, in his sketch of Company E, says, under date of September 12:—

“ . . . As this was probably the young ladies’ last visit before our start for the South, we demanded and received our last good-by kisses; but when they saw the same boys falling in the second time, and some of them strangers, they scattered like a drove of sheep over the fences and far away to the station. I think that was the last effort the company made (as an organization) to kiss them all a good-by.”

For some time previous to the formation of our regiment a pleasant little coterie of young ladies and gentlemen had existed in Cambridge, and there were but few evenings when they did not meet at a party, the theatre, or some similar entertainment. Most of the gentlemen enlisted in our regiment. The young ladies were so incensed at those who did not, that they resolved unanimously not to attend a party or a place of amusement during the absence of the Forty-fourth, and this resolution was most faithfully kept. Will not all our young lady friends agree that these Cambridge girls displayed as much self-sacrifice as if they had “donned the blue” and “shouldered the musket,” even if the service were not quite so perilous?

In “Corporal's” letter of September 27 he again refers to the unwelcome practice of early rising:—

“ . . . The most unmusical of sounds is the reveille at five o'clock A. M. Even the freshness and magnificence of those star-gemmed mornings





scarcely compensate us for this ghostly hour of turning out. But now we are threatened with calls among the small hours for the purpose of preparing us for surprises in the enemy's country. We would gladly excuse our officers from this laborious work in our behalf. In fact, we shall not be less grateful to them if they do not carry the plan into execution. Besides, midnight movements like these might excite the suspicion of our ubiquitous provost guard, and result in getting the whole regiment into limbo. We could not even visit our neighbors of the other regiments, last Sunday, without falling into the hands of those merciless Philistines, who go about the country like roaring lions seeking whom they may devour.”

He also speaks of our double-quick marches and of the new sanitary discipline which our surgeon had introduced:—

“Companies E and D have been making double-quick marches to Dedham Village by the three-mile route. An uninterrupted run of three miles is something incredible to the uninitiated. ‘Corporal’ and five others confess, with proper self-abasement, that the last mile was rather too much for them, especially as your correspondent was tortured by a pair of new boots. We fell out. . . . A little while before dinner a small, ‘awkward squad’ (the six men mentioned) might have been seen descending the railroad embankment near Camp Meigs, and then proceeding by the right and left flanks until it safely passed the lines. The main party had not arrived, and we confidently reported them in the hands of the provost. On the contrary, as we learned upon their arrival, they had been detained by a number of beautiful Samaritans habitant along the road, who came out laden with smiles and kind words. Several fellows came back to camp with hearts and pedal extremities equally damaged.

“Our rifles have been distributed at last, and we have commenced drilling with great industry. . . .

“On Thursday we had a grand cleaning out of barracks. Everything was removed from them, and exposed to the air and sunshine. Most of the regiment being absent on escort duty, the task devolved upon a few. It was a work of vandalism. Cherished shelves, pictures, flags, and flowers came down at one fell swoop. The personal effects of absentees were tumbled down and bestowed in promiscuous piles into the bunks, and then carried outside. They comprised a heterogeneous collection of valuables, like pats of butter, soap, packs of cards and Testaments, toothbrushes and cutlery, spare clothing and baskets, haversacks, havelocks, night-caps and smoking-caps, pipes, tobacco and matches, now and then a bottle, and one umbrella. Having the example before them of the army in Flanders, the absentees of the Forty-fourth swore when they came back and witnessed the ‘improvements’ which had been made while they were away.





“We have occasional evening entertainments here in the shape of ground-and-lofty tumbling (en costume) and sparring matches. Between our hours of drill, camp duties, reception of visitors, music, letter-writing, etc., there is no possibility of time dragging upon our hands. Now visitors are restricted to the hours between half-past four and half-past eight P. M. . . .

“Our Surgeon, Dr. Ware, of Boston, is drawing a tight rein over the regiment. His experience upon the Peninsula has given him notions of sanitary discipline which some think too severe for soldiers in barracks at home. He has stripped our quarters of everything but prime necessaries, and we are reduced to a very bald condition indeed. We shall probably see the wisdom of this severity more clearly by and by. At present a majority of the boys don't see it at all. Thursday night we tried the experiment of sleeping without straw in our bunks. It didn't work, and now we propose to provide ourselves with canvas bags to keep the straw in place, and thus avoid the continual nuisance of straw litter inside and out.

“On Thursday detachments from six companies of our regiment acted as escort at the funeral of the late Lieutenant-Colonel Dwight. Considering the short time of our practice in the manual of arms, the regiment was awarded the credit of great proficiency, particularly in the firing of volleys. Colonel Stevenson paid the regiment the highest compliment.”

The marches we took proved of great benefit in toughening us for active service, and the comparatively small percentage of straggling shown by our regiment when actually in the field demonstrated conclusively the wisdom of our colonel in adopting this plan. The sanitary regulations introduced, although grievous to bear at the time, we afterwards acknowledged to be wise and beneficial.

“Corporal's” letter of October 4 gives an account of two of these marches:—

“The past week Colonel Lee has wisely varied our drill by taking the regiment on marches through portions of the country surrounding Camp Meigs. Our first of these marches, after escort duty at the funeral of the late Lieutenant-Colonel Dwight, was through that portion of Milton of which we have such delightful glimpses from camp. We were forced to breathe dust freely, but through the clouds which rose wherever the regiment moved we caught refreshing views of stately homesteads, blushing orchards, and autumn-tinted landscapes. . . . Since the march to Milton we have surprised the good people of Mill Village and round about Dedham Court-House by a sudden appearance in their midst. For the





gratification of our many friends who are anxiously watching the progress of this regiment, I have to report that our marching extorted great praise from Colonel Lee, who, by the way, is quite as prompt to give us a sound blowing-up as he is to compliment. In point of fact, he does neither by halves. His outspoken frankness and generosity are creating him hosts of warm friends in the regiment. . . .

“We received marching orders last Thursday,1 and are going to New Berne, N. C., as soon as a transport vessel can be got in readiness. At New Berne it is expected we shall be brigaded under General (now Colonel) Stevenson. This will be gratifying to the regiment. . . .

“Our indefatigable surgeon is organizing and training a corps of assistants who are to lend their aid to the wounded upon the field of battle. The training consists of binding up imaginary wounds, pointing out the position of arteries, showing how to handle fractured limbs, placing men upon litters, and showing how to carry them with the least possible disturbance of the wounded parts.”

In the same letter he mentions the fact that Mr. Steffen, formerly instructor of the Massachusetts Rifle Club, was delivering a series of military lessons to our commissioned officers.

In his letter of October 11 he makes mention of a march over Brush Hill Turnpike:—

“. . . On Thursday we were treated to a magnificent march over Brush Hill, —our first brush. . . . Our march, which included a distance of fourteen miles, was, considering the state of the atmosphere, the severest of our experience; but it was cheered by the smiles and waving handkerchiefs of beautiful women in windows, gateways, balconies, and groves, and by their more substantial favors in the shape of apples, pears, and cool water. The few men who fell out of the ranks from faintness and exhaustion were of the reputed tougher sort, —men of outdoor life and pursuits. Your professional men and clerks, clean-limbed and elastic, are the men to endure hardships, all the talk to the contrary notwithstanding. This, I believe, was the observation of the ‘Little Corporal.’

“Among the late testimonials in the Forty-fourth deserving of mention is the presentation of a knife, fork, and spoon, in a neat case, to each of the recruits from Framingham by their friends in that town. . . .

“Your correspondent, and the other members of Company D, are indebted to Corporal Gardner for the introduction of a company dog, —Romeo, a promising fellow, whose laughing countenance and waving tail and general intelligence have already won him a host of friends. Several

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of the boys are industriously laboring to reconcile him to the society of a cat which has come to our barrack.

“Mr. Burrage, of the firm of J. M. Beebe & Co., has presented to each member of Company C, Captain Lombard, one of Short's patent box knapsacks. If they can be manufactured in season to supply us before our departure South, the other members of the regiment will probably supply themselves with this knapsack at their own expense, which will amount to $2.50 per man. This knapsack is so adjusted to the shoulders as to be carried with much greater ease than the Government article.”

Unfortunately, an order promulgated from headquarters sent “Romeo” out of camp and “Juliet,” in despair, followed the example of her illustrious namesake; at least it was so supposed, as pussy died very suddenly the day following Romeo's departure. One of the members of Company D was accused of murdering her, tried by court-martial, and convicted; but the evidence against the alleged culprit was far from conclusive.

After the muskets were given out to the guard, the officers took great pains to teach the men the duties of a sentry. Frequently they were so much interested that they induced the sentinel to loan them his musket while they practically demonstrated how it should be handled. Many of our boys will recall the consternation they felt when they realized that they had been disarmed and their gun was in the hands of the enemy. Some of them found it difficult to remember the formula for challenge and answer, or for calling the corporal of the guard as prescribed in the Army Regulations, and the cry of “Corporal of the Guard, Post Nagle,” was one familiar to us all.

In the last weekly letter from “Corporal” previous to the departure of the regiment, dated October 18, he speaks of the similarity in some respects between the life of a soldier and that of a convict, and refers to several donations which had been made to many of the companies:—

“The close resemblance between the life of a soldier in barrack and that of a State Prison convict, regarded in certain outward aspects, affords mingled amusement and disgust. We go for our rations in single file, and with tin mugs and plates. The intercourse between officers and subordinates is scarcely less reserved, and the punishment for small offences scarcely less severe with the soldier than with the prisoner. On inspection days we stand up like well-burnished automata, and are as sensitive to





praise or censure regarding the condition of our quarters, guns, etc., as so many children. At our meals and in our bunks we are stared at by visitors just as I remember to have stared at the happy family of ‘Hon. Gideon Haynes’ at Charlestown on various occasions. When impelled by ‘sanitary reasons,’ our keen-eyed surgeons pass through the barracks to see that nothing contraband nestles in the bunks, that the blankets and overcoats are accurately folded, and that only a certain amount of clothing and baggage per man is retained; we stand about and gaze at them just as your readers will remember they were gazed at by the inmates of the House of Correction which they visited not long ago. . . .

“More princely donations have been made to some of the companies of the Forty-fourth Regiment. To Company E, Captain Richardson, William Cumston, Esq. (father of Lieutenant Cumston), of the firm of Hallett & Cumston, has presented a check for five hundred dollars.

“To the same company donations amounting to three hundred dollars, for the purchase of the improved knapsack, have been made by the following gentlemen: J. M. Beebe & Co.; F. Skinner & Co.; Alexander Beal; C. W. Cartwright; W. P. Sargent; J. R. Tibbets; Read, Gardner, & Co.; Wilkinson. Stetson, & Co.; J. C. Converse & Co.; E. & F. King & Co.; Horatio Harris; Gorham Rogers.

“To Company H, Captain Smith, C. F. Hovey & Co. have presented a full set of the patent knapsacks. Company K, Captain Reynolds, have been favored in the same way by a number of friends of that company. . . . Company F, Captain Storrow, have received the present of a set of patent knapsacks. The generous donor is too modest to let his name be known, but it is surmised that a young corporal of Company F knows all about it.

“The wife of Colonel Lee has kindly remembered each soldier of the regiment by the gift of a little testimonial card, upon one side of which is printed the Old Hundredth Psalm, and upon the other the name of the recipient written in a neat hand. . . .

“We have had a good share of dismal weather the past week, and have not been allowed the consolation of smoking in the barracks; but the boys have managed to keep the blue devils at bay with mock parades and shows of great effectiveness. One day the camp was electrified by the appearance of an exceedingly well got-up elephant, not unprovided with a tail, and waving a trunk of twisted shoddy. Another day we were visited by citizens of Brobdingang, ten feet high in their stockings.”

The expenses of our regiment while recruiting and in camp were about $6,200, of which nearly $3,000 was paid for music. This amount came from the regimental fund, of which William Gray, Jr., was treasurer, — a fund raised by contribution, the city





giving $3,0001 and the rest being donated by individuals. Most of the companies were presented with Short's knapsacks by their friends, and those companies which were not so fortunate were supplied at the expense of the regimental fund. The correspondence with the state officials and the War Department arising from the endeavor to have this style of knapsack supplied by the Government is rather unique and decidedly interesting. The letter from “Corporal” last referred to concludes by saying:—

“We now expect to remain at Readville till the close of the war, except in case Readville is invaded by the enemy, when we shall make a masterly retreat to Mill Village.”

Alas for the claims of “Corporal” as a prophet! Three days after this letter was printed we had orders to pack, and on the fourth day, Thursday, October 23, we bade good-by to our barracks and the friends who had been so much interested in our progress.

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CHAPTER III. VOYAGE TO NEW BERNE.

MADAM RUMOR, who at Readville had no better reputation for veracity than the “intelligent contraband,” had so many times announced our departure for this or that dangerous point at the South, that when the order finally formulated into the fact that we must go, we could hardly realize it until we found ourselves, early in the morning of October 22, under the weight of knapsacks, idly waiting in line to be escorted to the station. Standing there, now hitching up one strap, then unbuckling another that had not got accustomed to its place upon us, with our backs well piled with many things soon to be thrown away, we looked across the fields, where in awkward squads we had strayed to the larger camp, that was alive with the bustle and noise of a recruiting headquarters; thence beyond the meadows to the beautiful Blue Hills, covered by the many-tinted colors of autumn; and the query must have come to all, How many of this one thousand will be present at the return to answer “Here”? There was no voice to that thought as up and down the lines came nothing but the cheerful voices of the men, bantering one another, bidding their old quarters, even to the familiar boards upon which they had lain, good-by, with almost tearful fondness.

“Attention, company!” “Shoulder arms!” The men stood steady in their ranks, we jauntily marched after the band, gave





hearty cheers to the escort and all blue-coats and friends at the station, and went Bostonwards on the cars to meet friends there.

The history of old Readville camp should be written to present the picture of the bright and eager-hearted youths who gathered around its camps, and after the preparatory lessons there received went marching away, thousands after thousands, the flower of our generation, with no thought but of duty to a country which was worthy of the sacrifices these young boys made.

It was more than an ordinary soldier departure day when we marched through Boston. Three regiments, made up, for the larger part, of men from the city and its immediate vicinity, were going.

As we marched up Boylston Street the town seemed alive with people to bid us God-speed. The escort, composed of gentlemen whose every action bespoke a desire to go with us in our Southern pilgrimage; the blessings and cheers that were showered upon us by the thousand of ladies whose friends were of us, or of others who had gone before; the hearty hand-shake of some old gentleman who broke into the ranks with, “God bless you, boys, my Tom is just dead at Antietam!” still remain as vivid pictures. Forgotten then were all distinctions of rank, whether he who marched bore an eagle, or but the blue on his shoulders; whether he had no one who knew him but the old lady in black, who hung to his neck and had nothing to bestow but a blessing, or whether some elegant home opened its doors to bid their soldier-boy good-by. As the Boston “Journal,” speaking of this reception, says: “Notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of the guard and police to keep the Common clear of almost everything that did n't wear a uniform, many of the ladies could not be resisted, and soon they were seen freely and happily mingling with their friends in the Forty-fourth, determined to enjoy their society until the last moment.” The flurry of rain that occurred on the Common, which drove some of the spectators away; the march up past the State House, down State Street, with the ringing cheers of the crowd of men who gathered as by magic from every quarter, are scenes that will ever remain as pictures the details of which we can through our memory fill in.





When we took our departure, the time had come for steady, concentrated work in the war. In April, 1861, we had heard the mad scream of excited people rushing after the first soldiery that went their way; and when the first three-years regiments marched past the old State House, you could see old men follow their dipping banners with the tears of patriotism, and hear half-exclaimed prayers of sobbing women. The lumbermen of Maine, the stanch regiments of New Hampshire, had had their day; but when the tide of war had reached October, 1862, Antietam had been fought. The streets were filled with wounded men. The war had permeated into every relation of life; and the good-by that we got was from a people who knew then what all this sacrifice meant. The Boston “Traveller” of October 22, gives this account:—

THE FORTY-FOURTH REGIMENT.

This splendid corps left their camp at Readville at a little after 10 o'clock this morning, reaching the Providence Railroad depot at about 11. The regiment was under arms as early as 8 o'clock, and on reaching the depot were honored with a salute from the Cadet Regiment, which was drawn up in line and gave nine rousing cheers, which were returned with interest, making a most enthusiastic parting. The Forty-second cheered them vociferously, also, when they were passing their camp.

There were other parting ceremonies last evening at camp, when at the dress parade the regiment was formed in a hollow square and the chaplain, Rev. Mr. Hall, offered prayer. The band played an appropriate air, and Colonel Lee then called for cheers for the old Commonwealth, and for the dear ones they were to leave behind them. The regiment responded heartily, and then gave nine cheers for their commander. The colonel replied to the compliment in a brief but feeling manner.

After arriving in Boston this noon the regiment formed on Boylston Street, and marched upon the Common, where the New England Guard Reserve Corps and past members were in line and presented arms. The regiment was drawn up on the Charles Street mall, and grounded arms, and about an hour was allowed for the hosts of friends present to say their farewells.

Thousands of people were on the Common, and lined the route of march on Beacon, Park, Tremont, Court, State, and Commercial Streets. State Street, down which the corps passed at one o'clock, was crowded with spectators.

The line was formed as follows:—

Platoon of sixteen police under Sergeant Dunn.





The full Gilmore Band.

Reserve corps and past members of the New England Guard, under Major J. Putnam Bradlee and Captains J. L. Henshaw, Thomas Chickering, J. M. Howe, and Sewall H. Fessenden.

The Guards escorted a number of past members and officers, including Hon. J. T. Stevenson, S. H. Gookin, and other gentlemen.

They numbered a hundred bayonets and were in citizens’ dress.

The regiment, 1010 strong, with Flagg's brass band in the centre of its right wing.

On their way to Boston in the cars there were frequent groups of people on the road who cheered heartily, and at Roxbury an artillery salute was fired.

The regiment is in splendid condition; on the Common, at the salute by the Reserve New England Guards, while the Gilmore Band played “Auld Lang Syne,” the soldiers wheeled into column of platoons and moved by with the steadiness of veterans, showing the interest they have taken in securing a high degree of skill in manœuvring.

The corps is armed with Enfield rifles captured from an English steamer, and their belts, bayonet-sheaths, and cap-pouches were similarly obtained.

The hank of the belt is a snake of brass,—so emblematic of the vileness of the Rebel cause. Probably the shippers little imagined they would be used against the Rebels.

After we reached the wharf it was but a short time before we found our places on either the steamer “Mississippi” or the “Merrimac,” and amidst the cheers of the thousands who had followed to the water side we slowly steamed to anchorage for the night.

The change that we had been doting on had come; we were now to learn some of the tribulations of a soldier's life, and to find that his experience on board a transport is not altogether calculated to make him “wish that he had come.” He found his bunk in the hold; and just as he was finding his, he found several hundred others, just as intent, employed in that occupation. A place that he thought too small for his sister's poodle was to be used for three other strapping fellows besides himself. Meantime, the fact that there was such a thing as bilge-water, and that soldiers no cleaner than they ought to be had occupied this place before, presented themselves vividly to his sense. He remarked that the ventilation might be improved, that the decks were half





lighted, and as he picked his way towards deck was crowded to and fro by the many who seemed to fill all places before him. The water-tanks had always a band of thirsty customers, and to get anything like coffee, or the better phrase, “bilge-water,” or anything to eat, he must stand in rank and wait until he is counted off, while sergeants and other uncommissioned officers are working here and there to find places or food for their men, or perchance medicine for some one taken sick so early on the way. The two great transports lay at anchor off Deer Island, and most of the men found their decks by far the most pleasant place on board. They could see the lights of home shining almost all around them. There is a little cluster off towards the South Shore, and a little band of the boys, all from that village, gather together and speculate upon what Tom, or Mary, or father, or So-and-so can be doing over there,—whether that light that seems higher than the rest comes from a home just saddened by a soldier's death.

The lights on Beacon Hill flash upon the night, and there were some in private's toggery on board to whom the homes were familiar. There was a constant bobbing of lights at and upon the forts, while a gunboat went rushing by towards the Navy Yard. Presently voices upon the forward deck let us know that “there is music in the air,” and every man had soon forgotten discomfort in letting the world for a mile or two about know that beans can always be procured “down by the Readville camp.” The music changed: sometimes it became pathetic, and there was something plaintive in its sounds, while the lights of distant homes, and the thoughts that would fill the mind, made it still more potent; then it would break into the patriotic, and our souls be aroused from sadness and carried away to martial sights and sounds, into which we hoped, if carried, to engage with honor.

Some got drowsy and went to join that mighty chorus of those who could sleep, while others remained on deck mooning the night away; until presently, the anchors being weighed, the vessels started, soon leaving home a dim line of blue hills that would insist in getting very misty in so short a time.

I recall, as I stood looking homewards early in the morning, one of the oldest officers of the regiment coming close to where





I was, and as he gazed into the mist that kept his home out of sight, I heard him repeat that always sweet Thackerarian,—

  • “And when the day was breaking,
  • My little girls were waking,
  • And smiling and making
  • A prayer at home for me.”

The sun the next morn looked out upon a pleasant day at sea, and soon the crowd came tumbling one on another for fresh air. The sound of every animal that man can imitate blended with
[Illustration:


]

the laugh and shout of the crowd. The hungry man was on the alert, with his eager eye towards every quarter; he sniffed the officers’ breakfast being prepared, and mutiny, if not something worse, was stamped on his face. Occasionally one particular man anxiously asked for water for his daily libations. He got no consolation, excepting to have the transport men state that, though they had carried fifty thousand soldiers, this was the first regiment that wanted water for washing purposes. Dirt, the soldier's comforter, began to put on her grim mask. Some, overcome by seasickness, wandered about with a fiendlike look of





resignation on their faces, while there ran through the crowd a curious fancy to examine the old hulks, with all the curiosity a Yankee can exhibit.

As we rounded the Cape and got well set on the trip, we began to make ourselves as comfortable as we could, and accepted the situation without conditions.

I should like to have a picture of the crowd upon the decks of one of the transports, — many lying about upon their backs, smoking their pipes in quiet amusement, observing some frolicsome mate attempting a breakdown, or a hand-spring that would land him in a crowd of grave-looking savants discussing some knotty Greek problem, or the more practical game that Sarah Battles so much and under such different circumstances enjoyed. Here a group of strategists were settling the problem of where we were to go; there a party watching distant smoke on the horizon, and querying whether it may not be the terrible “Alabama;” near by, a sad-voiced youth reading “Michelet” to a band of hard-heads, who guy the poor youth until he is obliged to withdraw from the contest; everywhere, men lying upon their backs, enjoying the rapture of looking into the sky while the vessel is seesawing along. Guns are everywhere, and accoutrements are tumbling about. The diary fever becomes contagious, and now and then some genius undertakes a sketch of something picturesque, to find his efforts spoiled by some sad wag.

Transport life is the art of holding on to existence with a fierce patience while praying all the time to reach port; but it has its peculiarities which cannot be found on any shipboard. It is a good place for those who accept, a bad place for growlers.

Beaufort Harbor, with its little village of old-fashioned houses encircling the shore, with the fort at the other end of the circle and the dismal wharf called Morehead City, greeted us, on the morning of October 26, when we pulled up to our place of debarkation. Our eyes were everywhere. This, then, was the part of the sunny South to which we were invited. It hardly looked fit to conquer. Yet when we landed, the pleasure of getting “out of the black hole” was so great that the country round about put on a better tone. A hungry friend just then





gave me a piece of sweet-potato pie that he had bought of a fat old Dinah, who had a really clean-looking basket, and after the first mouthful, hungry as I was, this experience became my first and last experiment with “sweet-potato pie.”

Of course there was delay. The cars backed down past the long building on the wharf with exasperating slowness, while we, with our concentrated Readville equipage still packed in our knapsacks, stood by doing everything but swearing (that was forbidden by the army regulations). The magnificent structures in which we were expected to ride, consisting of open (platform) freight-cars, with room for some to stand and some to sit, having been finally made ready, we climbed upon them and stowed ourselves away as best we could.


[Illustration:


]

At 1.30 P. M., after interminable delays, we started for New Berne, forty miles away. The Ninth New Jersey, with whom we were destined to march many weary miles, were quartered at Morehead City, and greeted us with hearty cheers. The railroad carried us through a country guarded in fact by block-houses, around which as we passed by were gathered veterans who gave us a glance half-curious, half-satirical as though they doubted the entire efficiency of our overpowering newness; but the route





was made very interesting in catching glimpses of the country through which Burnside had conducted his brilliant campaign when he captured New Berne.

As the train approached the clearings that were in front of the breastworks that ran down to the river's bank, surrounded by the thick forests that prevail in that country, — other than the mounds of earth built by the enemy, there was no sign that a battle had ever been fought. The more vivid reminders of the existence of war were the chimneys of burned houses, and the air of desolation that was added to the character of the country, dreary enough before the war. The rain in its most pronounced Southern style poured upon our unprotected heads, but there was very little glumness. Jokes were passed. The Mark Tapley in us struggled upwards, and we secured a certain amount of interest in the excitement that war scenes always bring to mind. Corporal Gardner, whose letters upon this and other incidents connected with our history are exceedingly graphic and interesting, gives the following incident that occurred upon this train:—

“Yankee genius is apt to run to invention; and at the outbreak of the war one would have judged by the number of new patents that were constantly appearing, — patents for cartridge-boxes, muskets, haversacks, and in fact everything that could by any possible means be enumerated in a soldier's outfit, — that the whole nation had devoted itself to invention. Among these numberless inventions was a patent canteen. It was a combined lunch-box, writing-desk, and fluid storehouse. One of the principal advantages claimed for it was, that when a soldier was too weary to lift it to drink, he had but to apply his lips to the end of a rubber tube which was fastened along the strap from which the canteen was suspended and which was close to his mouth; a slight suction was then all the exertion required I was the proud possessor of one of these articles. Previous to the departure of the regiment the canteen had been filled with some whiskey which I resolved to keep for a case of emergency. This resolution, in the innocence of my heart, I confided to many of the boys, and showed them how the famous canteen could be easily emptied of its contents. The morning the regiment landed at Morehead City was threatening, and before the train had started it began to rain, — a genuine Southern rain. The officers and cooks having appropriated the only covered car on the train, the rest of us were obliged to stand on open platform cars that were filled up like a hay-cart. Rubber blankets were no protection, and in a





few minutes we were completely drenched. The air was chilly, and the boys huddled together to keep warm; nearly all the boys in Company D seemed to have a particular desire to keep me warm, and although the individuals who surrounded me were constantly changing, the number remained about the same. Time and time again, as a cold shiver passed over me, I was tempted to take a sip from the patent canteen; but I manfully resisted the temptation. Finally I became too cold, the temptation was too great. I succumbed and sucked. No whiskey rose in the tube. I sucked again. No response. An expression of doubt and distrust passed over my face. The boys could keep quiet no longer; while I had been thanking them almost for their kindness in protecting me from the wind, they had been drinking my precious whiskey. I felt a sense of righteous wrath. But of what avail? The whiskey had disappeared, and probably there was no member of Company D, barring myself and a few anti-alcoholites, but could have told the quality of the liquor.”

But the long jaunt came to an end; we rumbled over the bridge into the city of New Berne, where, letting Corporal Gardner tell the remainder of this story, “We reached after dark and found quite a number of the Twenty-third Massachusetts at the depot to receive us. The Twenty-third are guarding the town. It was raining when we reached the city, and we met with the delay usually incident to all military proceedings. At last our company (Company D) and three others were safely housed in the machine-shop connected with the railroad. This was about 7 P. M. It took us but a short time to unsling knapsacks and select our ‘bunking places.’ Then arose a great demand for eatables. A box of very good codfish and a barrel of bread, hard, were opened, and found a market very quickly. The only water we could procure was by holding our cups under the rain spout; but the supply did not equal the demand. We were all gratified to hear that the Twenty-fourth were preparing some hot coffee, and soon after that the coffee had arrived. Cold, wet, and tired as we were, it tasted better than anything I have had since I left home. As soon as we fairly emptied the mess kettle, we turned over and under our blankets, and in a few minutes were sound asleep.”

To me, as I go over the details that then seemed so important and now so misty and almost inconsequential, there comes up a picture of the bright faces that went with us in the life of the





regiment. They have all gone their way these many a year, — some are resting under

  • “the low green tent
  • Whose curtain never outward swings,”

and the rest have so changed in the last twenty years that one could almost dream the days we spent in the old Forty-fourth were in another existence, and with other men than those we meet now and call comrades.









CHAPTER IV. NEW BERNE AND ITS GARRISON.

NEW BERNE, the county seat of Craven County, and the largest town in eastern North Carolina, is situated on the southwest bank of the Neuse River, — at this point over a mile wide and navigable, — at its confluence with the Trent, thirty miles from Pamlico Sound, and one hundred and twenty miles southeast from Raleigh.

At the beginning of the Civil War the population of New Berne was about five thousand. It was a port of entry, exporting large quantities of grain, lumber, tar, and turpentine, and having also a considerable coastwise commerce. Railroads connected it with Beaufort on the coast, and through Weldon with Goldsboro’ and its converging roads in the interior. It had a bank, a theatre, two good hotels, a daily newspaper, and other features of a thriving city. The paper was revived under Yankee auspices after the capture, and as “The New Berne Progress,” containing as much news as the military authorities deemed it proper to allow, was a welcome visitor in the camps.

The town was an attractive one, of the Southern type. Wide streets, running generally at right angles, and shaded by large trees, were bordered by detached dwelling-houses, mainly built





of wood, with broad verandas and luxuriant gardens. At the time of our occupation the better part of the native whites had left the city. Their houses, occupied by troops, had been neglected and fallen out of repair. Negroes swarmed through the town, and populated its outskirts.

Early in the war the attention of the Federal authorities was directed to the facilities afforded by the inlets and sounds of the North Carolina coast for collecting and forwarding supplies for the Virginia armies; for exporting the naval stores which could be turned into money abroad; for the entrance of blockade-runners returning with arms, ammunition, and clothing; and for sheltering small privateers, which could issue from the inlets, dash upon coasting merchant-vessels, and return at discretion to the friendly shelter of the sounds. The formation of the coast, — a narrow strip of sand enclosing extensive land-locked bodies of water, — while favorable to such commerce, was also favorable for naval attacks from the ocean, and correspondingly weak for defence.

As early as August, 1861, a naval expedition accompanied by a small land force under General Butler captured and occupied the forts at Hatteras Inlet. In January, 1862, a large force under General Burnside (the Burnside Expedition), embarking at Hampton Roads, was transported with difficulty over the shallow and shifting bar at Hatteras, and in February attacked and carried the Rebel works at Roanoke Island, the key to Albemarle Sound.

A month later, the naval forces and transports left Roanoke Island, steamed up the Neuse, and landed the troops of the expedition sixteen miles below New Berne. On the morning of March 14 a line of earthworks running from the river across the Atlantic and North Carolina Railroad, and defended by ten thousand Confederates, was attacked and gallantly carried by our forces, in about equal numbers. Generals Foster, Reno, and Parke commanded the three columns of attack, which pushed forward after the retreating Rebels, and took possession of New Berne.

Through these successive victories the army and navy effected a permanent lodgment in eastern North Carolina, which they held until the close of the war. Our occupation effectually stopped blockade running, exporting, and privateering, as far





south as Wilmington, N. C., and was a constant menace to the flank and rear of the Confederate armies around Richmond.

In July, 1862, General Burnside was ordered, with a large portion of his force, to Virginia, and General Foster assumed command of the Department of North Carolina. On September 24, he addressed a letter to General Halleck, General-in-Chief of the United States Army, at Washington, making formal application for more troops. He writes:—

“The advantages of this post for drilling and perfecting new regiments are very great. The place is healthy, wood in great abundance, water sufficient, and subsistence and quartermaster's supplies are easily brought from New York, both to this place and to Beaufort, from which point the railroad is in good order and running. I have some eight regiments of infantry here, of old troops divided into two brigades, commanded by most excellent officers (acting brigadier-generals), Colonels Amory and Stevenson, and with other excellent colonels could readily drill any number of new regiments. My artillery force (Third New York Artillery) is good. They number five light batteries with twenty-eight pieces, Rhode Island battery with six pieces, Rocket battalion with eight pieces. My siege train, ready for transportation, though at present on shipboard with supply of ammunition, consists of four 30-pounder Parrott guns; in addition to which I can land for the investment of any sea-coast place ten 32-pounders in ship carriages. My cavalry force is one good and efficient regiment, — Third New York Cavalry. My knowledge of the country in this region, derived from being stationed here as engineer officer in charge, and more lately in command of this department, enables me to use the small force at my disposal to advantage; which advantages would of course be greatly increased by having a much larger force at my disposal.”

Again, Oct. 3, 1862, he addressed a letter to the War Department requesting reinforcements of infantry to be sent, “if it is expected of me to go into active service during the cool weather.”

“Further reflection on this subject has convinced me of the propriety of my request, and especially as regards new regiments; and I beg leave to re-urge this matter, and to further say that even if it is not intended that I should make any decided movement, this place presents very great facilities as a camp of instruction for a very large body of troops, and would be more available for operations on the flank of the enemy, should that be rendered necessary by their retreat from Richmond, or from any other cause. Even if thirty or forty new regiments be sent, I will devote my personal time to drilling and perfecting them in their duties. I am





advancing the defences of the town, and they are now strong enough to require a siege to take, I think.”

In answer to these suggestions a number of new troops (principally nine months’ regiments) were sent to New Berne in October. After the Tarboro’ expedition General Foster asked again for more troops, in these terms:—

“The enemy have much increased their force and their activity in this State. They show a determination to withstand my advances in their rich country of the eastern sections, and also, if possible, to diminish my hold in that section. On the other hand, the weakening influences of the past malarious season have so weakened the strength of my old regiments that for hard active service I have scarcely available one half their nominal strength. The Third, Fifth, Forty-third, Forty-fourth, Forty-fifth, and Forty-sixth Massachusetts Regiments, arrived here, are good troops. I would most respectfully suggest that if possible I should be allowed at once ten thousand troops in addition to my present force. The sooner I have this force, the sooner I will endeavor to prepare my plans of cutting the Weldon and Wilmington Railroad, and the taking of Wilmington and the works at the mouth of the Cape Fear River.”

Additional troops were sent in response to this appeal, until the Federal troops in the Department of North Carolina numbered (in January, 1863) nearly thirty thousand men.

The relative strength of the opposing forces in the State during the period in which we are especially interested is shown in the following tables, taken from the Appendix to Admiral Ammen's “Navy in the Civil War: The Atlantic Coast:”—

Abstract from Returns of the United States military forces serving in North Carolina.
Present for duty.Aggregate present.
September, 18626,6428,647
October, 18628,96711,415
November, 186212,87215,569
December, 186218,46821,917
January, 186325,02328,194
February, 186315,80618,548
March, 186314,67217,105
April, 186313,96215,920
May, 186316,64319,715

In August the forces had been reduced to 7,699 present for duty.





Abstract from Returns of the Confederate military forces serving in North Carolina. (No returns accessible forSeptember, October, and November, 1862.)
Present for duty.Aggregate present.
December, 186211,07412,207
January, 186326,95831,273
February, 186315,90419,894
March, 186320,733
April, 18637,5018,385
May, 186322,14926,838

In August there were 7,391 present for duty.

A small portion of our forces were distributed as garrisons along the coast, and in towns like Plymouth and Washington, at the head of navigation in the larger rivers. The larger portion of the troops remained in and around New Berne, occupying permanent camps in the outskirts of the town, on both sides of the Trent River, within a strong line of forts which had been constructed after our occupation. The picket line lay six or eight miles out, following on the west, or side toward the enemy, the course of Batchelder's Creek. The sparsely inhabited country around New Berne is flat, low, swampy, heavily wooded with pines, and traversed by numerous creeks. The roads are wet, sandy, heavy, and unfavorable to the movement of troops.

The Rebel force in North Carolina in November, 1862, was distributed somewhat as follows:—

Between New Berne and Raleigh, with headquarters at Goldsboro’, eight thousand men, including two regiments of cavalry and a small force of light artillery.

At and near Wilmington, three thousand men.

Between the Tar and Roanoke Rivers, a movable force of three thousand men.

A regiment was also stationed at Weldon, where further forces could be readily and speedily concentrated from Petersburg and Richmond.

The aggregate of these detachments would appear to be nearly fifteen thousand men, — three thousand more than the returns given above indicate for the following month of December.





When the Forty-fourth reached New Berne the Union forces under Foster were known as the “Department of North Carolina.” Nov. 21, 1862, General Orders No. 58, Department Headquarters, formed the infantry regiments into temporary brigades, our regiment being assigned to the Second (under command of Col. Thomas G. Stevenson), consisting of the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, Lieut.-Col. Osborn; Fifth Rhode Island, Major Arnold; Tenth Connecticut, Colonel Leggett; and Forty-fourth Massachusetts, Col. Francis L. Lee. The First Brigade, about 4,500 men, was commanded by Col. T. J. C. Amory; the Second, about 4,000 men, by Col. Thomas G. Stevenson; the Third, about 4,000 men, by Col. Horace C. Lee; and there were unassigned about 3,200 men, — a total of about 16,000 men, infantry, cavalry, and artillery.

On the 24th of December the following general order was issued from the War Department at Washington:—

War Department, Adjutant General's Office, Washington, Dec. 24, 1862.

General Order No. 214.

By direction of the President, the troops in North Carolina will constitute the Eighteenth Army Corps, and Major-General J. G. Foster is assigned to the command.

Four days later, General Order No. 84, Corps Headquarters, was issued as follows:—

Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps, New Berne, N. C., Dec. 28, 1862.

General Order No. 84.

The assignment of infantry to brigades from this date will be as follows, and commanding officers of regiments will report at once to their brigade commanders:—

Brig.-Gen. L. C. Hunt.
85th PennsylvaniaCol. J. B. Howell.
103d PennsylvaniaLieut.-Col. W. H. Maxwell.
85th New YorkLieut.-Col. A. J. Wellman.
92d New York
101st PennsylvaniaLieut.-Col. D. M. Armor.
96th New YorkCapt. George W. Hindes.
Brig.-Gen. Thomas G. Stevenson.
24th MassachusettsLieut.-Col. F. A. Osborn.
44th MassachusettsCol. F. L. Lee.





5th Rhode IslandMaj. Tew.
10th ConnecticutLieut.-Col. Leggett.
Brig.-Gen. C. A. Heckman.
9th New JerseyMaj. Zabriskie.
23d MassachusettsMaj. J. G. Chambers.
3d MassachusettsCol. S. P. Richmond.
51st MassachusettsCol. A. B. R. Sprague.
Col. T. J. C. Amory.
17th MassachusettsLieut.-Col. J. F. Fellows.
43d MassachusettsCol. C. L. Holbrook.
45th MassachusettsCol. C. R. Codman.
8th MassachusettsCol. Coffin.
Col. Horace C. Lee.
27th MassachusettsLieut.-Col. Luke Lyman.
25th MassachusettsCol. Pickett.
46th MassachusettsCol. George Bowler.
5th MassachusettsCol. G. W. Pierson.

First Division of the Eighteenth Corps will consist of Brigadier-General Hunt's and Stevenson's brigades, to be commanded by Brigadier-General Wessells. Brigadier-Generals Hunt and Stevenson will report at once to Brigadier-General Wessells.

By command of

Major-General John G. Foster,

J. F. Anderson,Captain and A. A. A. G.

[Official]:

William Pratt,A. A. A. G.

On the 29th, General Orders from Division Headquarters was read:—

Headquarters First Division, Eighteenth Army Corps New Berne, N. C., Dec. 29, 1862.

General Order No. 1.

I. Pursuant to orders from Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps, 28th inst., the undersigned assumes command of this division, composed of Hunt's and Stevenson's brigades. The following are announced as staff officers of this division:—

Capt. Andrew Stewart, A. A. G.

Capt. R. C. Webster, A. Q. M.

Capt. John Hall, C. S.





Surg. D. G. Rush, Chief of Medical Staff.

1st Lieut. Daniel F. Beigh (101st Pennsylvania), A. D. C.

2d Lieut. M. C. Frost (92d New York), A. D. C.

The brigades will be known as First and Second in the order above enumerated.

H. W. Wessells,

Brigadier-General Volunteers, Commanding Division.

[Official]:

William Pratt,A. A. A. G.

The force at New Berne was considerably increased in January, 1863, by the arrival of troops ordered to this department from the Department of Virginia, Major-General Dix, Brigadier-Generals Ferry, Wessells, Spinola, and Naglee reporting with their respective brigades. A reorganization of the Army Corps followed, and five divisions were created.

The monthly reports subsequent to this date (January 12) show that the First Division was commanded by Brig.-Gen. I. N. Palmer, the Second Division by Brig.-Gen. Henry M. Naglee, the Third Division by Brig.-Gen. O. S. Ferry, the Fourth Division by Brig.-Gen. Henry W. Wessells, the Fifth Division by Brig.-Gen. H. Prince. The first North Carolina Union volunteers were commanded by Capt. C. A. Lyon, the artillery brigade by Brig.-Gen. J. H. Ledlie, and the Third New York Cavalry by Col. S. H. Mix.

The Fourth Division, General Wessells, comprised the two brigades of Hunt and Stevenson as defined in General Order No. 84 above.

Under this organization the Forty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment was in the Second Brigade of the Fourth Division of the Eighteenth Army Corps. with Major-General Foster as our corps commander, Brig.-Gen. Henry W. Wessells our division commander, and Brig.-Gen. Thomas G. Stevenson our brigade commander.1

[note]








[Illustration:

Brigadier General HENRY W. WESSELS.
Comd'g 4th Div., 18th Army Corps.

]


[Illustration:

Major General JOHN G. FOSTER.
Comd'g 18th Army Corps. 1863.

]


[Illustration:

Brigadier General THOMAS G. STEVENSON.
Comd'g 2d Brigade, 4th Div., 18th A. C.

]

HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO. BOSTON, MASS.





Our corps commander, John G. Foster, Major-General of Volunteers, was born in New Hampshire in 1824, was graduated at West Point in 1846, and appointed a brevet second lieutenant in the corps of engineers. He was brevetted as first lieutenant for gallantry during the Mexican War at Contreras and Cherubusco, Aug. 20, 1847, and as captain for gallantry at Molino del Rey, Sept. 8, 1847, where he was one of the party which stormed the Mexican works and was severely wounded. He was assistant professor of engineering at West Point in 1854, became a captain July 1, 1860, and was brevetted as major, Dec. 26, 1860. On April 28, 1858, he took charge of the fortifications in North and South Carolina, which duty he was performing on the breaking out of the Civil War in 1861. He was one of the garrison of Fort Sumter under Major Anderson, and participated in the defence of that fort. After its surrender he was employed upon the fortifications of New York. He was appointed a brigadier-general of volunteers, Oct. 23, 1861, and commanded a brigade in the Burnside expedition, taking a leading part in the capture of Roanoke Island and New Berne. After the capture of New Berne he was made governor of that place. In August, 1862, he was appointed major-general of volunteers. After General Burnside left North Carolina to join the Army of the Potomac, General Foster became the commander of the department, and on the creation of the Eighteenth Army Corps he was appointed to the command.

From July 15 to Nov. 15, 1863, he was in command of the Department of Virginia and North Carolina. From Dec. 12, 1863, to Feb. 9, 1864, he commanded the Army and Department of the Ohio. This command he was obliged to relinquish on account of severe injuries which resulted from a fall from his horse. After remaining two months on sick leave at Baltimore, he assumed command of the Department of the South, retaining it from May 26, 1864, to Feb. 11, 1865. From August, 1865, to December, 1866, he commanded the Department of Florida. He was mustered out of the volunteer service, September, 1866, and died at Nashua, N. H., Sept. 2, 1874.

General Foster was made Lieutenant-Colonel in the Engineers of the regular army March 7, 1867; and was brevetted March 13, 1865,





Brigadier-General and Major-General, also of the regular army.

By a general order dated New Berne, Jan. 12, 1863, the following-named officers were announced as constituting the staff of the major-general commanding:—

Brig.-Gen. Edward E. Potter, chief of staff.

Lieut.-Col. Southard Hoffman, assistant adjutant-general.

Capt. James H. Strong, aide-de-camp and assistant adjutant and inspector general.

Maj. J. L. Stackpole, judge-advocate.

Maj. John F. Anderson, senior aide-de-camp.

Maj. Edward N. Strong, aide-de-camp.

Capt. George E. Gourand, aide-de-camp.

Capt. Louis Fitzgerald, aide-de-camp.

Capt. Daniel Messinger, provost marshal.

Lieut.-Col. Herman Briggs, chief quartermaster.

Capt. J. C. Slaght, assistant quartermaster.

Capt. Henry Porter, assistant quartermaster.

Capt. William Holden, assistant quartermaster.

Capt. J. J. Bowen, assistant quartermaster.

Lieut. Joseph A. Goldthwaite, acting commissary of subsistence.

Surg. F. G. Snelling, medical director.

Lieut. F. W. Farquhar, United States Engineer Corps, chief engineer.

Lieut. M. F. Prouty, acting ordnance officer.

Lieut. J. Myers, United States Ordnance Corps, ordnance officer.

Our division commander, Henry W. Wessells, was born in Litchfield, Conn., Feb. 20, 1809. At the age of nineteen he entered a military school at Middletown, Conn., and the following year went to West Point, where he was graduated in 1833. He was brevetted second lieutenant in the Second Infantry; was engaged in the Creek War in Georgia in 1835, and the Seminole War in Florida in 1837-43; was promoted to be first lieutenant in 1838, and captain in 1847; was brevetted major for gallantry at Contreras and Cherubusco during the Mexican war, in the former of which engagements he was wounded. After the close of the war with Mexico he went with his regiment to California, and thence in 1854 to Kansas and Nebraska. In June, 1861, he was appointed major in the Sixth Infantry. During the winter of 1861-62 he was granted leave of absence and organized





the Eighth Regiment of Kansas Volunteers. In the spring of 1862 he joined his own regiment before Yorktown in General Sikes's command, and was wounded at the battle of Fair Oaks. He was commissioned brigadier-general of volunteers, April 25, 1862, serving in the Department of Virginia, Major-General Dix. In December, 1862, he was transferred from the Department of Virginia to the Department of North Carolina. In May, 1863, he was assigned to the defence of Plymouth, N. C., which place he was compelled to surrender, April 20, 1864, after a fight of four days, and was taken prisoner and held until August, when exchanged. He was mustered out of the volunteer service, January, 1866. In February, 1865, he was appointed a lieutenant-colonel in the Eighteenth Regular Infantry. He was retired Jan. 1, 1871.

Our brigade commander, Thomas G. Stevenson, was born at Boston in the year 1836. He became an active member of the State Militia, rising from the ranks to become major of the Fourth Battalion of Massachusetts Infantry, which body, under his care and instruction, attained a high degree of excellence in discipline and drill. In the fall of 1861 he was commissioned colonel of the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers. He participated in the battles of Roanoke Island and New Berne. In an official report, dated New Berne, Nov. 12, 1862, to the War Department, after the Tarboro’ expedition, General Foster writes:—

“I recommend Colonel Stevenson, for his efficient services on this march and in the affair at Little Creek and Rawle's Mills, as well as previous services at the battle of Roanoke Island and New Berne, be promoted to the rank of brigadier-general.”

In November, 1862, Colonel Stevenson was appointed brigadier-general. In the Richmond campaign of 1864 he commanded a division of the Ninth Corps, and lost his life at Spottsylvania Court House, May 10, 1864.

With this description of New Berne, the forces which occupied it, and the commanders under whom the Forty-fourth served, this chapter might be considered as complete; but it may be well to include here one or two incidents connected with our stay in the town which do not come within the scope of any other chapter.





In January the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts and Tenth Connecticut of our brigade, under General Stevenson, were sent with other regiments of the Eighteenth Army Corps, first to Beaufort, N. C., and thence to South Carolina, where they joined the forces operating against Charleston.

The concentration of troops in North Carolina, and their subsequent embarkation at Beaufort, puzzled and alarmed the Confederate authorities, who anticipated a simultaneous attack upon Weldon at the north and Wilmington at the south. General D. H. Hill was assigned to the command of the troops in North Carolina, then (Feb. 1, 1863) composed of Daniels's and Pettigrew's infantry brigades, Robertson's cavalry brigade, and some artillery. In March, Garnett's brigade, from Petersburg, was ordered to report to Hill.

When it was ascertained that Charleston, and not Wilmington, was the objective point of the new expedition, General Hill planned a strong movement against New Berne and the other Federal positions along the coast. About this time General Foster wrote to the War Department:—

“I have received information that the corps of Major-General D. H. Hill is within the limits of this State and that he commands this department. I referred, in my last letter, to some iron-clads being constructed on the Tar and Roanoke Rivers. I understand that the iron-clad on the Roanoke River is nearly completed, and to prevent its being destroyed by our gunboats before it is ready for service, the enemy have assembled a large force at Hamilton, said to be 7,000 infantry, 1,000 cavalry, and seven batteries of between six and eight pieces each. The fortifications at Rainbow Bluff, just below Hamilton, destroyed by me last November, are being repaired and heavy guns being mounted from Weldon. A considerable force is at Weldon, and the enemy are busily engaged in fortifying that point. . . . To prevent the enemy from putting their threat into execution of taking the town of Plymouth, taking the gunboats or driving them out of the river, I propose to reinforce that point, and at the same time I have prepared a strong reconnaissance, under General Prince, to move in the direction of Wilmington and so prevent too great an accumulation of force on the Roanoke until such time as I shall be strong enough to attack with advantage. The command is only waiting for a suitable condition of the roads to move, the recent rains having rendered them almost impassable.”





As before stated, General Hill's force was increased by the arrival of Garnett's brigade on the 10th of March. The combined force numbered some 15,000 men. On the 11th of March General Hill moved his army towards New Berne. On the afternoon of Friday, March 13, the enemy's scouts were seen in various directions. Belger's Battery, the Fifth and Twenty-fifth Massachusetts Regiments, were sent out on the Trent road, leading towards Kinston. At dawn on the 14th a strong force under the Confederate General Pettigrew placed sixteen guns in position near a small fort opposite the town on the north, across the Neuse River. This fort was almost directly opposite the camp of the Forty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment. Two or three thousand infantry supported the artillery. They came into a clearing about sixty yards from the fort and began a rapid fire of shell and canister. After a few rounds they sent in to Colonel Anderson, of the Ninety-second New York (four hundred and fifty of whom held the place), a flag of truce, demanding a surrender, saying that a combined attack was to be made that day on New Berne, and that resistance was useless. To gain time for the gunboats to get into position, Colonel Anderson asked for half an hour to send and consult General Foster. The flag of truce went back, and returned granting the half-hour, and when the time had expired, returned again for the response. Colonel Anderson replied, “My orders are to hold this place, and I shall never surrender it.” During this interval the Confederates had put all their guns in position, straightened their lines, and formed their infantry in three lines behind the guns. General Pettigrew was mounted on a large white horse, and was constantly riding up and down the lines, giving orders. When the flag of truce went back the third time, and the result was known, the Confederates opened a rapid and terrific fire. The men in the fort, not wishing to show their strength, lay close behind the sand wall and waited for a charge. The soldiers in the fort prepared for the expected charge by biting off cartridges and putting them up before them on the logs, so as to be ready to fire fast. The camp in the fort was completely riddled with balls. A thirty-pound Parrott threw shells across the river, striking near our camp. The Union gunboats came





around from the Trent River, and getting into position, began a vigorous shelling of the woods beyond the fort, causing the enemy to retire. A thirty-pound siege-gun of the enemy burst, and killed a number of their own men. In the afternoon they attempted to creep up and plant a battery in the woods, but were prevented from so doing by the constant shelling of the fleet.

About noontime a train of platform cars with a locomotive in the rear stopped before the camp of the Fifth Rhode Island. In twenty minutes that regiment was on the train and moved rapidly out to the camp of the Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania Regiment, doing picket duty some eight miles out from New Berne, on the Kinston road. Reports came that a force of 8,000 or 10,000 men, with thirty pieces of artillery and some cavalry, had reached a point on the flank of the picket force nearer New Berne than they were. Colonel Jones, of the Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania Regiment, commanding the picket-post, was ordered, if pressed, to retire on New Berne, fighting his way as he came in. At dusk the outer pickets were driven in. At night tattoo was beaten at several points and the cars were kept running, to give the enemy the impression that a large force was near. The entire force in and around the town were kept constantly under arms. Every preparation was made for an attack.

After threatening the town at various points, the enemy during the night disappeared from New Berne. It was supposed that Washington, N. C., might be in danger, and to reinforce and strengthen the garrison of that town, on the following day (March 15) eight companies of the Forty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment were ordered to Washington. Companies B and F of the regiment were at this time doing picket duty at Batchelder's Creek, a few miles out of New Berne towards Kinston. Between this date (March 15) and April 22 the main body of the regiment was at Washington, N. C., the greater part of the time surrounded and hemmed in by the Confederate troops under General D. H. Hill, as narrated in another chapter.

General Foster was with the small force at Washington, N. C., during the siege of that town. During his absence Brig.-Gen. I. N. Palmer, commanding First Division of Eighteenth





Army Corps, was in command at New Berne. On April 1, 1863, he wrote from New Berne to the War Department, stating that General Foster was at Washington, N. C., and that that place was being attacked by the enemy in force; that there were only parts of two regiments there as garrison; and that three regiments and a battery of artillery had been sent him, but they were unable to reach there, the enemy having two batteries on the river below the town. Commander Davenport, United States Navy, sent from New Berne all the available gunboats to engage the batteries. The enemy were reported as being in large force in North Carolina, and as acting on the offensive. On the same date (April 1) an urgent request by letter was made by General Palmer to Major-General Dix, commanding Department of Virginia at Fortress Monroe, for assistance. He says: “There is a fair prospect of success for the Rebels at Washington [N. C.], and if they succeed this place will be attacked. I only suggest to you, General, as ‘food for thought,’ whether it would not be best to reinforce this place with, say, 5,000 men temporarily. . . . We are sadly in need of gunboats.”

In response to this request General Dix made preparations to send assistance, and had actually embarked a portion of his command on transports for that purpose, when General Longstreet made an attack on his front, which necessitated the withdrawal of the troops from the transports, and their detention in that department.

An attempt was made to relieve Washington by a force sent overland from New Berne, which was unsuccessful. On the 8th of April an expedition left New Berne for the purpose of relieving Washington, under the command of General Spinola. They had gone but a short distance when they found themselves confronted by a large force of the enemy, with batteries arranged to command the roads approaching in that direction. The bridges had been cut away, and breastworks erected commanding every approach. Finding the contest so unequal, and the possibility of advancing so small, General Spinola ordered his command to fall back, and returned to New Berne. At midnight of the 14th of April the transport “Escort,” with the Fifth Rhode Island Regiment on board, ran the blockade on the Tar River,





and passed the batteries, reaching Washington. On the following day General Foster left Washington on the “Escort,” passed the batteries, and, reaching New Berne, collected his force and marched to Washington, to the successful relief of that town.





CHAPTER V. CAMP LIFE.

BATTLE is merely an incident in the life of a soldier. The larger part of his service is spent in preparing for it. His experience might be compared with that of the professional athlete who devotes months to training for a contest which a few seconds will decide. In foreign nations which maintain large standing armies most of this preliminary work is accomplished in time of peace, but in ours it had to be done while in actual conflict. Undue haste in forcing battle subjected us to the disastrous defeat of Bull Run, — a defeat which was not an actual misfortune, as it taught the nation that the soldier's profession demanded capacity and experience, and that armies could not be made effective until they had attained a certain homogeneity which time and discipline alone could give. For this reason, among others, much of the time of most regiments, at least in the early part of the war, was passed in camp.

On our main lines of operation there was more or less constant fighting; but at many places along the coast held by us mainly as bases for future operations our forces were not large





enough to take the offensive on any extended scale, and therefore a few days of active, hard, spirited work were followed by longer periods of inaction. This was the case in our department; and although not the most important part of our service, our life in camp was not the least interesting.

Our barracks not being completed at the time we reached New Berne, some of the companies were quartered in tents for a few days, and almost as soon as we had removed to the barracks were sent off on the Tarboro’ expedition. Part of the regiment returned to New Berne on the night of Thursday, November 13; but the rest did not land till the following noon, as their steamer had been delayed. We went immediately to our barracks, and our camp life in the South fairly began. On the 17th Colonel Lee issued Special Order No. 6:—

“As a slight demonstration of the affection and esteem we have all learned by our recent experiences to feel for our present commanding officer, it is ordered that the present regimental camp be hereafter known and denoted as Camp Stevenson, and all letters and orders shall hereafter be so dated.”

The name “Camp Stevenson” was retained as long as we remained on the old “Fair Ground.”

The camp was very pleasantly located. It was situated on the southerly side of the Neuse, very nearly on the river-bank, a short distance westerly from the town. After passing the railroad station we came to the quartermaster's stables and cavalry corral on the right and the Government wood-yard on the left; then the camp of the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts on the right; crossed a small stream spanned by a light wooden bridge, and our camp-ground was reached. Our line of sentries extended from the river along the stream to the bridge, near which our guard-house was placed, then at right angles to the stream and parallel to the river for quite a distance, again turning at right angles and thence running northerly to the river.

Beyond us were the camps of the Third and Forty-sixth Massachusetts. Opposite to ours, but farther from the river, and reached by the same bridge we have mentioned, was that of the Tenth Connecticut, one of the best regiments in the service. It might be appropriate to mention here that the





young lady, a resident of Stamford, who presented a standard to this regiment just before it left for the seat of war, afterwards became the wife of Charles H. Demeritt, of Company D, Forty-fourth Massachusetts. The drill-ground, which was used in common by all the regiments of our brigade, was west of the camp of the Tenth, and southwesterly from our own.

The barracks were situated nearly equidistant from the easterly and westerly boundaries, but much nearer the road than they were the river. They consisted of a long wooden building, one half of which was parallel to the river and the other half at right angles to it, each part being divided into five apartments about fifty feet front by thirty-eight feet deep, an apartment being assigned to each company. Those at right angles to the river
[Illustration:


]

were occupied by the companies of the right wing, and those parallel to the river by the companies of the left wing. The line officer's quarters were in separate buildings erected at either end of the barracks, a room being assigned to each company, and the tents of the field and staff were pitched in front of the wing occupied by the right flank and parallel to it. The cookhouses — one to each company and one to its officers — were built on to the rear of the barracks and officers’ quarters, and the quartermaster and commissary building was in the re-entrant angle formed by the two wings of the barracks. The guard-tent was pitched close by the bridge, and the sutler's quarters — a structure about the size of a company barrack — was built a short distance easterly of the end of the building occupied by the left wing.





The right flank is the post of honor in regimental line; next in importance comes the left flank; then the right centre, the position of the color company, etc. Usually these positions are determined by the seniority of the captains; but where the commissions bear the same date they are arbitrarily assigned by the colonel. Beginning at the right, the company whose captain held the oldest commission would naturally be number one; the captain who was sixth in rank would be second in line, etc.; the order being as follows:—

Position in line 1—2—3—4—5—6—7—8—9—10

Position in rank 1—6—4—9—3—8—5—10—7—2

Soon after we went into camp at Readville the companies were assigned positions in the following order:—

H—C—E—I—F—D—B—K—C—A

On November 21 this order was changed, Company A being given the right flank, and the new order was —

A—D—E—G—C—K—H—I—B—F

This arrangement lasted for some time. December 28, Captain Reynolds resigned on account of ill health, and for the same reason Captain Jacob Lombard followed his example January 14. There were not many changes in our roster, but such as there were it may be well to particularize here. Dr. Ware died April 10, and Assistant-Surgeon Fisher was promoted to Surgeon on the same day. March 26, Daniel McPhee was commissioned assistant-surgeon. May 29, our youthful and popular adjutant, Wallace Hinckley, was transferred to the corresponding position in the Second Heavy Artillery, and was succeeded by E. C. Johnson, first lieutenant of Company H. In Company B, First Lieutenant F. H. Forbes resigned Oct. 13, 1862, before we left Readville. Second Lieutenant J. A. Kenrick was promoted to the first lieutenancy, and Charles C. Soule, at that time serving as a private in Company F, appointed second lieutenant.1 On the acceptance of the resignation of Captain Jacob Lombard, George Lombard was commissioned captain of Company C, and William Hedge, formerly sergeant in the same company, elected first lieutenant. Second Lieutenant Briggs of that company was

[note]



away from the regiment on permanent detail. Alfred S. Hartwell, first lieutenant of Company F, having resigned to accept a commission in the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, Second Lieutenant Theodore E. Taylor was promoted, and First Sergeant Horace S. Stebbins appointed second lieutenant. Captain Reynolds's resignation was followed by the promotion of Lieutenant Weld to be captain, Second Lieutenant Brown to be first lieutenant, and Sergeant John Parkinson, Jr., to be second lieutenant. These were the only changes among the commissioned officers. After Lieutenant Johnson's promotion to the adjutancy, Lieutenant Howe acted as first, and Sergeant Mulliken as second lieutenant, but no record can be found of their having been commissioned. These changes made necessary a readjustment of the line and on —1 the companies took position as follows:—

A—G—H—K—E—I—D—C—B—F

This was their order at the time the regiment was mustered out of service.

When an army is in motion and rarely bivouacs two successive nights on the same ground, it is impossible to carry routine and red tape to such an extent as when occupying a camp that is relatively permanent. Camp duty does not vary much; and the following order, which was put in force soon after our return from Tarborough, describes essentially the routine of most regiments:—

Reveille6 a. m.
Breakfast7 a. m.
Morning report7.15 a. m.
Surgeon's call7.30 a. m.
Guard mounting8 a. m.
Squad drill under sergeants8.30 to 10 a. m.
Drill for commissioned officers under lieutenant-colonel10 to 11 a. m.
Rifle drill for sergeants under major10 to 11 a. m.
Company drills, corporals acting sergeants11 to 12 a. m.
Block drill for sergeants under captains11 to 12 a. m.
Dinner12 a. m.
First sergeant's call1 p. m.
Company drill1.30 to 2.30 p. m.
Battalion drill3 to 4 p. m.
Company parade4.30 p. m.

[note]



Dress parade5 p. m.
Supper6 p. m.
Tattoo and roll-call7.30 p. m.
Taps8.30 p. m.

Few of our men were used to early rising, and having to turn out before daylight was a new and not altogether welcome experience to most of them. To be sure, we were obliged to retire early, but that was merely aggravating the matter. After reveille came a trip to the river, where the men could enjoy a good swim or wade as preferred, and then they returned to the barracks, where breakfast was served. However much some of us might have been disposed to shirk drill and guard duty, it was very
[Illustration:


]

seldom that one attempted to shirk his rations. The food furnished was ample in quantity and generally of excellent quality, although our cooks would have scarcely found favor at Delmonico's, Young's, or Parker's. The army ration consisted of twelve ounces of pork or bacon, or one pound and four ounces of salt or fresh beef; one pound and six ounces of bread or flour, or one pound of hard bread, or one pound and four ounces of corn meal to each man. To each one hundred rations, fifteen pounds of beans or peas and ten pounds of rice or hominy; ten pounds of green coffee, or eight pounds of roasted (or roasted





and ground) coffee, or one pound and eight ounces of tea; fifteen pounds of sugar; four quarts of vinegar; one pound and four ounces of adamantine or star candles; four pounds of soap; three pounds and four ounces of salt; four ounces of pepper; one quart of molasses; and when practicable, thirty pounds of potatoes.

The bill of fare was not in all respects such as most of us had been used to, but the food was wholesome, and our exercise in the open air gave us appetites to which many had heretofore
[Illustration:


]

been strangers. Hunger proved an excellent sauce; but in spite of this appetizer there was some growling because we were not furnished with butter for our bread or milk for coffee. All of us tried to eke out the Government rations with private supplies; and “goodies” from home were devoured with far greater relish than when as children we assisted at the surreptitious disappearances of pie or cake or jam from our mothers’ pantries.

Among the native delicacies to which we took very kindly from the start were sweet-potato pies. The negroes were adepts at this kind of cookery, and many of them made a comfortable income by supplying the boys. There was a “white nigger”





who was an especial favorite, and no matter how large his stock, it was always disposed of before he left camp. The darkies must have thought that “the day of jubilee” had actually arrived, as we are sure that the money they received from our regiment exceeded in amount the wildest expectations of their dreams, — that is, provided they were imaginative enough to indulge in dreams.

After breakfast the first sergeants made their morning reports, and then came the surgeon's call. This was a general invitation to “the lame, the halt, and the blind” to appear before the doctor. We are glad to believe that as a rule few of our men answered this call unless they were actually ill; but the knowledge that the surgeons had power to excuse men from duty was a great temptation to some when they felt lazy, as all do at times. It was amusing to watch those who reported; to see the different expressions of countenance and hear the different stories each would tell. The stereotyped formula of the surgeon was: “Let me see your tongue. Barnaby, give this man some C. C. drops.” “Barnaby, give this man half dozen compound cathartic pills.” “Barnaby, give this man a dose of castor-oil.” “What do you mean by coming here? There's nothing the matter with you. Go to your quarters.” Occasionally a case would require more attention than could be given in barracks, when the man would be sent to the regimental hospital; and if the accounts of those who went are reliable, nowhere could one have received better care or kinder treatment than was given by our surgeons and their assistants. Some who never reported at surgeon's call but once or twice, thought the surgeons were unnecessarily severe; but it was often difficult to discriminate. Among one thousand men there must always be a percentage under medical treatment, but we think the general health of our regiment compared favorably with that of any in the department.

Then came guard mounting. The detail was usually announced at tattoo roll-call the previous evening. The ceremony was a dress parade in miniature, with some additions and a few subtractions. Generally, quite an audience assembled to witness it. After the ritual as laid down in the Army Regulations had been fully complied with, the old guard was relieved and dismissed,





and the care of the camp placed in charge of the new guard for the succeeding twenty-four hours.

Guard duty was in some respects very pleasant. The turn was two hours on and four off, although the men were not allowed to leave the vicinity of the guard-tent without permission when off duty. Some of the posts were very desirable. In stormy weather the colonel was always considerate, and sentries that could be spared were relieved from their posts and allowed to return to their quarters. At least once during the twenty-four hours they were called out to receive the “grand rounds.” Whenever a general officer, the commandant of the camp, or the officer of the day, approached the guard-house it was expected that the guard would be turned out; but the colonel, and generally the officer of the day, were satisfied with receiving this honor once from each guard, and left word not to turn it out a second time. Before reporting for duty each man was required to don his dress suit, have his boots nicely polished, his brasses bright, his gun clean, his gloves of spotless white, etc. If a soldier transgressed in any particular he received some very fatherly advice given in a very paternal manner. Sentries were required to carry their pieces as prescribed in the Army Regulations, to salute all commissioned officers passing near their beats, to prevent unauthorized persons from entering the confines of the camp, and to preserve order generally. If a sentry wished to be relieved for any purpose he had to call for the corporal of the guard and give the number of his post. Some of our men could not get this idea, and none of us will ever forget the call of “Corporal of the Guard, Post Nagle.” The soldier who instituted this call was, by the way, one of the best men in the regiment, and whatever orders he received were always obeyed to the letter. After being on duty the men were excused from the time they were relieved in the morning until dress parade that afternoon.

Camp guard was pleasant enough, but few if any of the men enjoyed being detailed for police guard. The duties of the latter were that of cleaning up camp, for which many thought a force of contrabands should have been regularly engaged; and there were few in the regiment who would not willingly have paid any reasonable assessment to provide a substitute. There was





nothing especially fascinating in sweeping up the camp-grounds, particularly when as large as ours, in emptying swill-pails, digging sinks, etc.; but the work had to be done, and some one had to do it. There was one satisfaction, however, — we could wear our old clothes and did not wear our equipments; and from guard mounting in the morning to dress parade in the afternoon, except when actually engaged in work — a period rarely exceeding three hours — our time was our own.


[Illustration:


]

As soon as guard mounting was finished, all the men excepting those on guard or who had just come off, the detailed men, and those on sick leave, were taken out for company drill. The number was rarely more than half the effective strength of the company. The length and severity of drill varied materially, some of the officers keeping their men hard at work during the whole of the time assigned, while others gave frequent “rests,” and brought their companies into camp long before its expiration.

After dinner came company drill again, and then battalion drill. Occasionally the programme was diversified by a brigade drill under General Stevenson. The labor of preparing for the dress





parade which followed was not inconsiderable, as we usually returned from drill hot, tired, and dusty, and it was essential that on parade we should appear in apple-pie order. A regiment of bootblacks would have found business excellent had they visited us about that time in the day. Apropos of dress parade. On leaving Readville we thought the regiment was well drilled, and probably it was, compared with the militia generally; but the first time we saw the Tenth Connecticut go through the Manual, it was a revelation to us; and although before being mustered out we had undoubtedly attained nearly or quite as great proficiency, none will ever forget the feeling of despair which came over us at the idea of ever being able to equal such precision. Supper immediately followed dress parade. Later came tattoo and roll-call and finally taps, at which sound all lights in the quarters of enlisted men were extinguished and the day was ended.

Saturday afternoon we often had inspection of barracks, and Sunday morning came the regular weekly inspection. Saturday was “cleaning-up day.” The officers were very particular about the condition of camp and barracks. The least thing amiss was quickly noticed. One plan adopted soon after our arrival at New Berne to promote good order and cleanliness, which proved very successful, was to detail a corporal in charge of each company barrack for a week at a time. The officer of the day would send in a detailed report to headquarters, and the company that he reported “best” was excused from guard duty for the following day, the men who would otherwise have gone on guard were furloughed, and the company he reported “worst” had to furnish double its allotted number of men. The competition between the companies was very keen and often it was difficult to decide. On Sunday morning each company was mustered in its own street; it formed in two ranks, and the inspecting officer made a careful examination of the condition of the uniforms, muskets, cartridge-boxes, knapsacks, etc. Woe unto the unlucky private who displayed anything contraband among his possessions or whose equipments were not up to the standard of brilliancy! As the officer passed down the ranks he would step in front of each soldier, examine his appearance carefully, take his musket,





look scrutinizingly at the polished work, test the action of the lock, and then drawing out the ramrod, which had been previously placed in the barrel, rub the end of it across his immaculate white glove. If it left a mark, be it never so slight, the soldier was in a state of fear and trembling till his doom was announced. One week a non-commissioned officer who had a constitutional aversion to house-cleaning was detailed as “corporal of the barracks.” The man was disposed to decline the honor, but in the army, resignations from the rank and file are not in order; he
[Illustration:


]

accordingly resolved if possible to win new laurels in this position, albeit in opposition to his natural instincts, and succeeded so well that his company was relieved from guard duty at least once if not twice during the week that he was in charge. Encouraged by success, he was tempted to still higher effort; and on Saturday, after having attended to his duties relating to the barracks, he turned his attention to his own equipment. The labor spent in brightening and cleaning his musket, belt, cartridge-box, and clothes, the expense of rags, tripoli, and soap was simply enormous. Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny. The company was ordered out for the regular weekly inspection. The corporal took his place in the front rank,






[Illustration:

HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO. BOSTON.
]









confident that he would pass with flying colors. The inspecting officer wiped the musket with a clean handkerchief or a pair of white gloves. He gazed at the corporal with a look of great interest. The surgeon reached the spot. He looked at the young man's clothes and then at him. The corporal was delighted. He felt sure that he was to be publicly complimented; and his intuition was correct, for the surgeon, after a silent look at the inspecting officer as if for corroboration, exclaimed, “Corporal —,1 you're the dirtiest man in the regiment!”

One of the boys, in writing home under date of November 16, says: “At 3 P. M. yesterday (Saturday) had inspection by General Foster, who complimented us highly. Said he never saw a better-looking set of men,—men who conducted themselves better, or kept their persons, equipments, and muskets in better condition. One of the boys in Company E,—John Wyeth,—in the skirmish a fortnight ago to-day had a bullet pass through the stock of his musket, partially shattering it. General Foster inquired the cause, and being told the circumstances, said: ‘Keep that musket, and send it home as a trophy by which to remember your first fight. I will see that you are provided with another, and as good a one as Uncle Sam can make.’ That fellow grew half an inch while the general was talking to him.”

Soon after reaching New Berne, one by one our comrades would disappear from daily drill or roll-call, and on making inquiries regarding the cause, we would learn that they had been detailed. The administration of an army corps, or even of a brigade, requires quite a force of clerks at headquarters and in the various departments, few of whom are civilians; and details were made for duty not only in our own camp, but at brigade, division, and corps headquarters. A part of the time the regiment was without its colonel, as he was commanding the brigade, his place being supplied by Lieutenant-Colonel Cabot. One of the first men we lost from this cause was Lieutenant J. H. Blake, Jr., of Company D, who was on the staff of General Stevenson during the time we were in North Carolina. His detail was dated October 27. Lieutenants Briggs, of Company C, and Field, of Company I, were most of the time on the signal corps,

[note]



and other of our officers were away for longer or shorter periods; while yet others, being in charge of special work, did not do duty with their companies. Among the various positions to which the detailed men were assigned were those of clerks at the different headquarters and departments, pioneers, ambulance men, musicians and members of the band, signal-corps, wagoners, nurses, orderlies, cooks, harness-makers, etc. John F. Bacon, of Company D., was first assistant to the chief carpenter, Mr. Wilson; Wheelock and Curtis, of F, were on duty as draughtsmen; C. E. Wheeler, of D, was sign-painter-in-chief of the department; and it was currently reported that one of the men had been called upon to run Mrs. General Foster's sewing-machine. In some respects it was much more agreeable to be detailed than to remain with the regiment; but, on the whole, we rather think those who “stuck by the old flag,” even if the “appropriation” was small, had the best time. Among the papers which the colonel has kindly loaned the committee is a list of the drummers, fifers, and members of the band, which will undoubtedly be interesting to our readers:—

Drummers.Fifers.Band.
E. C. Lee Co. AG. E. Wetherbee Co. BN. H. Dadmun Co. A
G. W Brooks Co. BJ. E. Leighton Co. DS. T. Shackford Co. A
I. Jones Co. CC. B. Curtis Co. HT. F. Gibbs Co. A
G. W. Springer Co. CE. P. Upham Co. IE. Graef Co. B
W. W. Woodward Co. DF. A. Hartshorn Co. KA. Hemenway Co. D
G. F. Pulsifer Co. EC. H. Park Co. E
J. H. Myers Co. EE. A. Ramsay Co. E
C. F. Morse Co. FN. H. Ingraham Co. F
J. M. Gibbs Co. FW. F. Ingraham Co. F
E. S. Fisher Co. GC. Cobb Co. F
E. Hayden Co. HD. Cobb Co. F
F. O. Peterson Co. HF. W. Clapp Co. H
D. F Redman Co. IC. E. Hook Co. H
C. A. Annable Co. IC. E. Hovey Co. H
A. Fisher Co. KE. S. Hemenway Co. H
G. F. Hall Co. I
H. A. Spear Co. K
J. A. Lewis Co. K
J. Fowler Co. K
H. B. Hartshorn Co. K

From those who failed to stand the fatigues of the Tarboro’ expedition a detachment was selected, styled the “Invalid Guard,”





which was sent to garrison a block-house at Brice's Creek, a picket station some miles outside of New Berne. The duty was light, but the men say they were very lonesome. A list of these will be found on page 251. Several whose names appear here did not join the “block-house squad,” as they were detailed to various positions in the town. As might be imagined, time hung heavily on the hands of those doing garrison duty at this out-of-the-way spot, and the men were always ready to welcome any incident that would break the monotony. An anecdote is told, more amusing to those who perpetrated the joke than to its victim. One day several of the men crossed the creek. After enjoying themselves for some time on the farther side, an alarm was given that the “Johnnies” were coming. All but one of the party rushed for the boat, and before their comrade could reach the shore, they were on their own side of the creek. It was too deep to ford, the man could not swim, the boys were calling to him that if he remained on the other side he would surely be captured, and his entreaties “to bring over the boat” were heart-rending. After tormenting him until they were tired, the boat was sent for him and the joke explained; but it is doubtful if he ever forgave the perpetrators.

November 27 was Thanksgiving Day, and was celebrated very generally by the members of the Forty-fourth. On the 26th, at dress parade, General Order No. 9 was read:—

“To-morrow being Thanksgiving Day in this department, there will be no duties. Captains will issue twice the number of passes, and taps will not be beat till 10 P. M.”

All the men had been very much interested in the arrangements for this holiday. Companies A, C, E, F, and G had company dinners, and Companies B and D divided up into squads. Diarists in H, I, and K fail to give an account of their doings. Each company celebrated on its own account. The most claborate programme was laid out by Company A, a full account of which is contained in the diary lent the committee by Sergeant E. R. Rand, which, by the way, with that of Everett, of C, are two of the fullest and most interesting placed at their disposal. Most of the comrades of Company A followed the example of





our friend Silas Wegg in the “Mutual Friend,” and on this occasion “dropped into poetry.” Although somewhat of a machine character, the effusions were replete with wit and personal allusions, and created a great deal of merriment. First Sergeant Edmands presided. A. L. Butler, afterwards killed at Whitehall, was orator of the day, and his speech is reported in full in the “Bay State Forty-fourth,” — a magazine to which reference will be made later in this chapter. Sergeant Clark read a poem after the style of “On Linden, when the sun was low,” which began, “In New Berne, when the sun was high.” Henry Lyon read an ode appropriate to the occasion, and then C. C. Murdock gave an account of the operations of the regiment up to that time, his style being evidently modelled after that of the “New Gospel of Peace.” Hiram Hubbard, Jr., officiated as toast-master, and responses were made by Sergeant Clark, Captain Richardson, Lieutenant Coffin, Corporal Conant, and Sergeant Rogers. A letter was read from Colonel Lee, and there was frequent singing by the company. A song written by A. S. Bickmore was rendered by S. T. Shackford, and then Sergeant Rand read some machine poetry full of local hits, and introducing the name of every member of the company, with the exception of one which was inadvertently omitted.

The bill of fare as given in bulk consisted of one barrel ham sandwiches, ten gallons oysters, one hundred pounds fresh beef, one and a half barrels apple-sauce, two barrels Baldwin apples, two kegs ginger-snaps, twelve “big” plum-puddings, and numerous smaller articles, with cigars ad libitum. Sergeant Rand, in commenting on the dinner, notes: “Sat down with tightly buttoned coats, but —” Language probably failed him.

One mess of eighteen men from Company B went down town to dinner. They paid fifty cents per plate, and the menu consisted of fried trout, roast beef, beefsteak, roast goose, onions, sweet and Irish potatoes, and apple and potato pies.

In Company F the after-dinner exercises were of rather a formal character, and were decidedly the most finished, from a literary standpoint. Private Francis C. Hopkinson presided, and his speech was really eloquent. Company F had many graduates





and undergraduates of Harvard College in its ranks, and the University might well have been proud of its representation in that company. During the exercises every available inch of space was occupied by men from other companies, and those who could not get into the barrack thronged the doors and windows. The Cobb brothers were as usual among the entertainers, and their music added not a little to the pleasure of the anniversary.

In Company D there were a few set speeches, and some extemporaneous ones in response to a series of toasts, but no attempt at any elaborate performance. In Company G the literary exercises followed immediately upon the dinner. Private E. G. Scudder presided, and responses were very general from members of the company. In the evening Companies E and D united in giving an entertainment in Company E's quarters, of which the following was the programme:—

PART I.
Song. — “Happy are we to-night, boys”
Declamation. — “England's Interference”F. S. Wheeler.
Song. — “Oft in the stilly night”
Declamation. — “The Dying Alchemist”S. G. Rawson.
Readings. — SelectionsJ. W. Cartwright.
Song. — “Viva l'America”
Declamation. — “Spartacus to the Gladiators”J. H. Waterman.
Declamation. — “The Beauties of Law”H. T. Reed.
“Contraband's Visit”Myers and Bryant.
Song. — “Gideon's Band”

Intermission.

PART II.
Song. — “Rock me to sleep, mother”
Declamation. — “Garibaldi's Entrée to Naples”G. H. Van Voorhis
Song. — “There's music in the air”
Imitation of Celebrated ActorsH. T. Reed.
Declamation. — “Rienzi's Address to the Romans”N. R. Twitchell.
Old Folks’ Concert (Father Kemp)
Ending with “Home, Sweet Home,” by the audience.





Companies C and H each had an entertainment in the evening, but no reports have been found, and the members of these companies, together with those of B, I, and K, have failed to record the proceedings so far as the historical committee have been able to discover.

At the Thanksgiving festivities in Company E's barracks Lieutenant Cumston was called upon for some remarks. Towards the end he said there was a Boston man in camp gathering statistics, and among the things he wished to find out was how many of the men smoked. The lieutenant thought it would be better to reverse the question, and ask how many did not smoke, and requested such “to stand up and be counted.” Several arose, and among them some of the most inveterate smokers in the company, evidently desirous that the “statistics” should indicate Company E to be very abstemious. As soon as the men were on their feet, the lieutenant remarked that he had some cigars, not quite enough to supply the whole company, but as there were so many non-smokers he thought they would go round; those who did not smoke of course must not take any.

During the morning the men amused themselves with football, base-ball, etc., and in the evening Company A gave a variety entertainment in the quarters, beginning with a mock dress parade under command of Sergeant Wilkins, and ending with dancing, singing, readings, and acrobatic performances, the barracks being crowded by men from the other companies.

Not an incident happened to mar the festivities of the programme; the presence of friends who had heretofore passed this holiday with us being all that was needed to make our enjoyment perfect. Colonel Lee complimented the regiment in General Order No. 11, read at dress parade the following day:—

“Colonel Lee desires to congratulate the companies of his command on the success of their Thanksgiving festivities, and to express his extreme satisfaction at the orderly manner in which the day closed, and the soldierly discipline shown in the perfect silence of the camp after taps.”

It is no easy matter to enforce strict discipline in a regiment, especially when the thousand men who compose it are young, active, and overflowing with animal spirits. The writer enjoys a





very wide acquaintance among his comrades of the Forty-fourth, and can conscientiously say that, so far as his knowledge extends, he does not believe there was a single member of the regiment who was maliciously inclined, or who disobeyed any order through a spirit of insubordination. The feeling of the men was well shown in the case of a member of Company D, a boy of only sixteen, who had been sent to the guard-house for impertinence to First Sergeant Tripp. On his release, he immediately hunted up the orderly and said to him, “You did just right to put me in the guard-house. I shouldn't have had a d—d bit of respect for you if you hadn't. It's just what I deserved.” As a rule, obedience in our camp was prompt and discipline excellent, but there were times when punishments were inflicted.

One of the most difficult problems to be solved by an officer is how to punish an infraction of the rules when committed by but one or two men, and these undetected. The innocent then have to suffer with the guilty. One night about midnight there was a loud explosion in one of the barracks. Had it occurred twenty years later, it would doubtless have been attributed to dynamite. Every one jumped from his bunk. The officers rushed in, and the captain, in a voice that expressed his feelings, demanded the name of the person responsible for the disturbance. There was an awful pause. Probably not more than two or three men in the company knew the offender. “If I do not find out the name of the man who caused this trouble within one minute, I will have the whole company out for drill,” thundered the captain. The minute passed very rapidly. “Orderly, fall in Company D for drill,” was the command. The men fell in, the sergeants searched the bunks carefully so there should be no skulking, one poor fellow who had been sleeping through all the disturbance was rudely awakened and ordered to join his comrades, — for what he knew not, — and the company marched out on the parade-ground. It was rather cold, and in going through the different manœuvres the men showed very much more enthusiasm than was absolutely necessary. After about half an hour the company was ordered back to the barracks, the captain being satisfied that his experiment was rather enjoyed by the boys.





For a long while the standing conundrum was, “Who put the powder in the stove?” Company G and one or two of the other companies had a similar experience, with a like result.

Company I held the championship for throwing hard-tack. As soon as taps had sounded, “whiz” would go a piece of hard-tack from one end of the barrack, followed by a profane ejaculation from the man it chanced to hit at the other. At first the shots were scattering, then began “firing by file, firing by platoon,” and finally, “volley by company.” The officers endeavored to stop the performance, but their efforts were at first unsuccessful. One night a watchful lieutenant entered the barrack with a dark-lantern, prepared to turn its flash in the direction from which came the first shot. One of the men, suspecting his design, crept from his bunk, and throwing open the stove door, the light from the fire unmasked the intruder. The lieutenant seized the man and had him marched to the guard-house, where he passed the night in spite of his earnest protestations that he was merely going to replenish the fire. As “midnight drills” were apparently enjoyed by the men, the officers adopted the novel plan of cutting off the hard-tack rations. This unheard-of severity created a consternation. Men who would never touch a piece when able to get anything else, immediately declared it was their main article of diet, and that they would inevitably starve if it were not furnished. The sudden hunger for hard-tack was amazing. Company I appealed to the others by means of notices posted throughout the camp, and it was not long before the most generous contributions began to arrive. The excitement lasted a day or two; but the captain finally talked to the men, they acknowledged they had been wrong, and the rations were restored. Allusion to this incident is made in the opera.

Almost as soon as our camp was established, contrabands began to throng in. They could be hired for a very small sum, and in a few days there was scarcely a mess in the regiment that had not engaged a servant. It was quite convenient to call on some one to wash your tin plate or dipper, or polish your boots, or dust your coat, instead of having to perform these menial duties for yourself; but there were so many employed that they soon became a nuisance, and on December 4, much to the





regret of most of us, an order was issued sending out of camp all negroes not servants of commissioned officers, or provided with a pass granted by one of our field officers. Some of the sergeants and a few of the corporals succeeded in retaining the contrabands they had engaged; but as a rule the order was rigidly enforced.

Notwithstanding that the prescribed orders of camp routine provided some occupation for almost every minute in the day, we found many leisure hours. Rainy days there were when drilling could not be thought of; the guard was excused on the day following its term of duty; there were always several off on account of illness; and in one way and another we had a good deal of time at our own disposal.

Nothing gave us more pleasure than to receive a large number of letters when our assistant-postmaster Fish distributed the mail, and those whose names were not called might have served an artist as a study for “Disappointment.” We have sometimes thought it impossible for any regiment to have devoted more attention to letter-writing than we did. At any hour of the day, from reveille to taps, some of the boys would be found with paper and pencil, jotting down for the information of their friends incidents of their daily life. On the march or in the camp it was the same, and at every halt out would come the unfinished letter and a few lines be added before the order “Forward” was given. We had some regular newspaper correspondents in our ranks, and the list of “occasionals” would have embraced half the membership. Many of the men used to boast that they had sent from ten to twenty letters by a single mail, and had received a number equally large. The general prevalence of this habit was especially remarkable, and there were comparatively few who did not send and receive at least one letter by every mail. It is estimated that on the arrival of each steamer at least fifteen hundred letters reached our camp. At home it was quite fashionable for young ladies to have a large number of army correspondents, and columns of newspapers were filled with advertisements asking for the addresses of those who were willing to write. Frequently the boys would receive letters from entire strangers; not unfrequently they wrote first, and their replies





often resulted in establishing a most entertaining correspondence. Sometimes the real name would be given, but more frequently the correspondence would be conducted under a nom-de-plume. A large number of letters have been submitted to the committee for examination, and it is surprising how “chatty” and readable
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most of these missives are. This constant and frequent communication with home friends was undoubtedly very potential in keeping up the morale of the regiment.

As our respected Uncle Samuel did not supply regimental tailors, and as clothes would wear out, buttons disappear, and holes be unexpectedly found in stockings, no small part of our leisure was devoted to mending. Some of the boys proved themselves very skilful in the use of the needle, while others made





but poor work of their attempts. Stockings were darned, but the verbal darning was far more in accordance with the feelings of the workman than the yarn process. Most of us were provided with “housewives” containing a supply of thread, needles, yarn, buttons, etc.; and it was really pathetic to watch a poor fellow who had always depended on the kind offices of mother or sister or wife to keep his raiment in repair, trying to mend a rent or sew on a button, and the first sergeant calling on the company to “fall in, lively.” It seemed too as if the repairs were always needed at the most inconvenient times and seasons; as for instance just as the assembly for guard mounting or dress parade had sounded.


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Next to letters, newspapers were more eagerly welcomed than anything that could be sent us. Our friends at home kept us well supplied with locals, but the only ones we could get of recent date were the New York dailies. These papers were not glanced at and then thrown aside; they were read carefully, advertisements and all, and then passed along to our less fortunate comrades who had failed to secure a copy. We are confident we were as conversant with all published news as any of our friends at the North. News from our own department received especial attention, and some of the correspondents would not have felt flattered could they have overheard the criticisms on their published letters. The correspondent of the “New York Herald” was a most entertaining, newsy writer, but correspondingly unreliable; as for instance giving the credit of our success at Kinston to the Ninth New Jersey, when all who participated in that action knew it was the charge of the Tenth Connecticut that decided the battle. If our boys could have interviewed that





correspondent immediately after they had read his account of the expedition, the surgeons would have had another patient. There was a local paper published at New Berne, which contained most of the general orders and some matters of local interest, but had very little general news.

After the battle of New Berne the Twenty-seventh Massachusetts discovered several weather-beaten cornets, bearing the names of “Tolman & Russell, Boston,” hanging from some trees, which the “Johnnies” had left in their hasty flight, and they naturally took possession of them. On learning when we returned from the Tarboro’ expedition that these instruments would be placed at our disposal if we wished them, the idea of a regimental band suggested itself; a sufficient number of men were at once detailed, and practice began immediately. As early as December some of our members appealed to our friends, through the Boston press, to send us a new and complete set. The Goldsboro’ expedition delayed progress somewhat; but on January 4 the band made its first appearance at dress parade and was most enthusiastically received. It improved rapidly, and our demands for a complete set of instruments became more urgent. Early in this month, after waiting for some one else to take the initiative, Mr. George B. Foster, father of Corporal Foster of Company K, advertised that he would receive subscriptions for this purpose. Before noon of the day the notice appeared he had received fifty-nine responses, when Mr. George S. Hall, father of George F. Hall of Company I, called on him, requested him to cancel the notice, as he intended to supply these instruments himself. They reached us February 14, and being a much fuller set than those we had been using, an additional detail was required. If Mr. Hall enjoyed half as much in giving them to the regiment as the regiment did in receiving them, he was many fold repaid for his generosity. After our return these instruments were sent to the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, but what became of them when that regiment was mustered out has not been learned. One of our men (Macomber, of Company F), in writing to a Boston paper, under date of February 17, says:—





“Our band received their instruments by this steamer (‘Augusta Dinsmore’) and Sunday evening appeared on dress parade with them. If the people who so kindly and generously contributed towards presenting them to our regiment could hear the thanks which are literally showered on their heads by the boys, they would never regret their kindness, or the happiness they have caused in all our breasts. It is with a feeling of gratitude, of contentment, and happiness, we witness the kindness and remembrance from our friends at home.”

The curiosity to see these instruments was most intense among the men, and on the day following their receipt Lieutenant-Colonel Cabot, then in command of camp, issued the following order:—

General Order No. 30.

Hereafter no person will enter the enclosure formed by the tents devoted to the band.

Any person violating this order will subject himself to punishment.

By command of, Lieut.-Col. E. C. Cabot.

This order caused much indignation, as curiosity had been raised to the highest pitch; but the order was enforced, and we did not see the new instruments till Sunday.

Nothing excited more general interest than the arrival of the express. Indeed, it was currently reported that the coming of the Forty-third, Forty-fourth, and Forty-fifth Regiments obliged the express company to put on some additional steamers. We had many friends at home, and the most common way in which they expressed their interest was by sending a box of “goodies,” which it would be superfluous to say was always kindly received. It would be impossible to mention one half the things that were sent us. “Corporal,” in referring to this matter, gives the following list of articles received in one box, as a model to be followed by those desirous of contributing: “A large sealed tin box of mince-pies and cake, a large paper of ditto, a tin box of sugar, a tin box of pepper, a jar of pickles, a box of eggs, together with apples, pears, pins, stationery, and last but not least, letters.” The father of Hezekiah Brown of Company G sent down a large box of troches, which the son distributed with the utmost liberality and impartiality. B. F. Brown & Co. contributed a generous





supply of their liquid blacking. Regulations regarding the admission of any kind of spirituous liquor were very stringent, and many were the means adopted to evade them. The mother of one of our boys, although strongly opposed to the use of any intoxicant as a beverage, recognized the benefit of alcohol as a medicine, and fearing that her son would be unable to procure any except through direct application to the medical department, resolved to try and supply him. She took a quantity of nice oranges, removed the peel and quartered them, being careful not to break the thin covering of the pulp, put them into a large jar, and then filled it to the brim with choice whiskey. The jar was tightly sealed, and reached the young man safely. The day after its arrival chanced to be inspection of barracks. As the inspecting officer was going his rounds, the soldier inquired of him if he had ever eaten any orange pickle. “Orange pickle!” he replied; “I never heard of it.” “Would you like to try some?” The answer being in the affirmative, a sample was given him. The officer tasted, looked at the soldier, tasted again; a peculiar smile passed over his face as he said, “I don't think pickling improves the orange, but I'd like another sample of that pickle.” Mason of Company E was especially favored by having large quantities of canned fruit and vegetables sent him, and the opening of his boxes always attracted a curious and sympathizing crowd. Thanksgiving and Christmas were the two occasions when our friends especially remembered us, and there were very few members of the regiment who did not receive some reminder from home. About Thanksgiving Mr. Frederick Grant, of Boston, chartered a schooner, the “Platten Sea,” and started for New Berne with a load of delicacies for the Forty-third, Forty-fourth, and Forty-fifth Regiments. Unfortunately, the wind and weather were adverse, and the schooner was very long in making the passage. Most of the perishable articles were spoiled, and many of us were disappointed at not receiving our “Thanksgiving,” as we had expected.

Another box catalogued by “Corporal” contained tea, coffee, sugar, butter, pepper, salt, capsicum, cheese, gingerbread, confectioner's cake, Bologna sausage, condensed milk, smoked halibut, pepper-box, camp-knife, matches, ink, mince-pies, candy, tomato





catchup, apples, horse-radish, emery-paper, sardines, cigars, smoking-tobacco, candles, soap, newspapers, pictorials, letters, pickles, and cholera mixture. (Perhaps the latter was another name for orange pickle.)

Mr. C. P. Lewis, of the firm of William K. Lewis & Brother, who had some friends in the regiment, was very generous, and kept them well supplied with condensed milk, olives, sardines, and a good assortment of canned meats and vegetables. One
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mess, on January 1, 1863, dined off salmon and green peas furnished by this gentleman's liberality. The contents of one more box will perhaps suffice to show the endless variety of articles that were sent us: preserve, tobacco, two boxes cigars, matches, a ream of letter-paper, doughnuts, gingerbread, quills, sticking-plaster, envelopes, “Les Misérables” (sometimes called “Lee's miserables,” but which was certainly a misnomer if applied to us) newspapers, apples, lemons, glue, butter, sugar, silk handkerchiefs, gun-rags, chocolate, woollen blanket, maple sugar, rubber boots, one or two packages for comrades of the recipient, some hairpins, shell back combs, and jewelry, for “properties”





in our dramatic performances and opera; and an old jacket, coat, and hat, which were probably put in for “ballast.”

In this connection it may not be inappropriate to allude to a few of the names by which the Forty-fourth was sometimes designated, especially as one of them was deemed of sufficient importance by a candidate for the governorship of Massachusetts, — himself an officer whose reputation is world-wide, — to merit extended mention during the heated campaign of 1883. About the time we went to Readville, one of the Boston newspapers stated that we had in our ranks “the pets of many a household,” and from this expression we were called the “pet” regiment. Our men paid more attention to dress and personal appearance than is usual among enlisted men, as they failed to comprehend why the fact of being soldiers should cause them to become lax in this respect; and from this circumstance we were sometimes referred to as the “kid glove,” “patent leather,” “white choker,” or “gold watch” regiment. But the name by which we were most generally known, and of which the highly distinguished candidate above referred to meanly endeavored to rob us by attributing it to the Forty-fifth Massachusetts, was that of “seed-cakes.” About Thanksgiving the Forty-fourth received a very large number of boxes from home, — many more than the men of some of our sister regiments thought its fair share. One day quite a knot of soldiers had gathered in the town of New Berne, when one of our men rather exultingly spoke of the large number of packages we had been receiving. “There's nothing surprising in that,” retorted one of his evidently envious companions; “your boys can't come down to salt horse and hard-tack like the rest of us, and if your folks didn't keep you supplied with seed-cakes, you'd starve to death!”

This joke had just enough foundation in fact to create a hearty laugh, and passed from mouth to mouth, both in the regiment itself and outside, until “the seed-cake regiment” became the principal sobriquet of the Forty-fourth, — a nickname of which the boys are rather proud.

It was much easier to get boxes into the department than it was to get them out. On the arrival of an express steamer packages were rapidly separated, then loaded on the regimental





wagons, and sent to the various camps for distribution. The guard, and some men specially detailed for that purpose, watched each box as it came from the vessel, and detained only such as they suspected might contain articles “contraband of war.” To send a box out of the department, unless some stratagem was used, a provost-marshal's permit was required in every case; and this was about as difficult to get, if it contained anything worth sending home, especially articles obtained while in the service, as it was for a private to be allowed to sit down in the Gaston House dining-room at any time subsequent to our first morning in New Berne. One of our men found a volume of “Audubon's Birds” in a deserted shanty just outside of Williamstown. He carried it on his back during the rest of the expedition, and on reaching New Berne tried to get permission to send it North, but did not succeed. It finally reached his home in Wisconsin, in spite of the provost-marshal. Most of the men who had mechanical tastes and ingenuity devoted part of their leisure to manufacturing brier or clay pipes, or horn jewelry. Brier-root was found in great plenty in the swamp just beyond our drillground. When dug it was very soft, but in drying it was apt to crack, — a trouble that we found with the clay pipes as well. Those who experimented with horn jewelry were more generally successful, and many of our men now have studs, watch-charms, scarf-rings, etc., they made while in North Carolina.

No place in the world will equal a camp for gossip. Rumors seemed to spring spontaneously from the ground, and no matter how improbable one might be it always found believers. One minute the report would come that the regiment was ordered to South Carolina or to the Potomac, followed immediately by the statement, “based on official knowledge,” that we were to remain in camp till our muster out; the next hour came news that we were going on picket, and instantly would be circulated a counter report that we were to go on provost. All sorts of stories regarding the prominent officers were in the air, — as to what this one was going to do and that one was not going to do; where this one was going and where the other was not going, etc. Did space permit, it would be interesting to give some specimens. One rumor which gained some currency may well be stated,





especially as it is one of the very few that can be traced from its inception. The morning of the 14th of March, the day of the attack on New Berne, all was excitement. The air was full of authentic statements of what we were going to do, of where we were going, of changes in command, of Rebel successes, of contemplated manœuvres, etc. Davis Howard had been on guard that night and posted in front of the colonel's tent. As soon as the guard was relieved he rushed into the barracks and called for Corporal Haines. The latter was the regular correspondent of the “Boston Herald,” and known as such to most of the members of the regiment. Whenever any startling news had been learned, Haines was always the first to whom it was given. “Corporal” was writing to his paper an account of the attack, when Dave came up apparently out of breath. “Corporal, I've just come off duty at the colonel's tent, and have got a piece of news that interests every man in the regiment. It's the most important thing that's happened to us for a long time.” So many wild and improbable stories had been brought him, that the corporal was incredulous; but the evident sincerity of Howard's manner was impressive. All the boys within hearing distance anxiously awaited the disclosure. “I've just come from headquarters,” repeated Dave. “A little while ago one of Foster's orderlies came into camp with his horse on a run and handed colonel a letter. Lee wrote something in reply and the orderly went off on a gallop. Just as I was relieved, another one came, and as soon as the colonel read the paper delivered him he seemed very much excited and sent for the lieutenant-colonel and major. I made up my mind it was something very important, and that if I could, I would know what it was about.” All of us had seen orderlies riding into the camp and then riding out again, and were ready to believe that some important movements were about taking place. We knew that Howard was a fellow of resources, and that if he could not succeed in getting this information probably others would fail. “I succeeded in overhearing what he told Cabot and Dabney,” added Dave, with much apparent earnestness, “and find that Pettigrew has sent over a flag of truce demanding the surrender of New Berne. Foster refused to give up the place. Pettigrew then sent back word that he would





shell the town immediately, and has ordered the removal of the women and children and the Forty-fourth Massachusetts before he begins, and has given Foster two hours to get us out. The general has asked Lee where he wants the regiment to go to. Colonel told Cabot that he thought it best to let the men vote on the question, so I suppose you will all hear about it quite soon. He says he wants to stay and let them shell.” The laugh that followed Dave's disclosure was tremendous, but he had to run for his life. It is difficult to realize the surprise and amusement of our men when they read in the first New York paper that reached them after the raising of the siege of Washington, a full account of the sending and receipt of this flag of truce stated as an absolute fact, only the locality had been transferred to Washington. In this connection it is reported that some years after the war Colonel Lee was travelling in the West, when a gentleman whom he met, finding that he had been in command of a regiment, asked him which one. On being told the Forty-fourth Massachusetts, he inquired if that was not the one ordered out of Washington with the women and children. “Yes,” replied our colonel. “Well, if I were in your place I should be ashamed to acknowledge the fact,” remarked his questioner. “Why so?” said our colonel; “the Rebels well knew that they could not get into Washington as long as our regiment stayed there, and thought that if they sent such a message Foster might order us out. He was not kind enough to oblige them; the regiment did not go out; the ‘Johnnies’ did not get in. I think Hill paid us a high compliment and have always felt proud of it.” Whether this conversation ever occurred we do not know. We have been unwilling to ask the colonel, lest he might deny it and so spoil a good story.

Soon after our return from the Goldsboro’ expedition it became fashionable among the boys to sit for their pictures. A style called “melainotype” was most in vogue, and it was a matter of pride to see who could send home one showing the greatest appearance of dilapidation. A corporal of Company D had one taken which was a great success in this respect. A netted worsted smoking-cap replaced the regulation fatigue article; one suspender was visible, the other concealed; one leg of





the pants was torn off just below the knee, the other showing an enormous hole made by friction of canteen and haversack; the shoes were not mates. The original garments were worn by the owner for the last time when he sat for the picture, as they were immediately presented to one of the numerous contrabands who thronged the camp. Among the corporal's home friends was an elderly aunt, one of the kindest-hearted old ladies that ever lived, who looked at everything from the most charitable view, but was a warm friend of the “boys,” and would quickly resent anything that she thought savored of inattention or neglect towards them. On receipt of this picture she was most indignant, and wrote Governor Andrew in very strong terms, requesting him to personally investigate and see that Massachusetts soldiers were provided with suitable clothing. J. J. Wyeth, of Company E, sent home one of a similar character. His fond mother gazed at it sadly for some minutes and then remarked, “If John has become as dissipated and reckless as this picture shows him to be I hope he will never return.” Little did we imagine such would be the effect of a desire to let our friends realize our appearance “in camp.” It took a large amount of correspondence to explain matters.

Most of our time was spent in the open air. Generally the weather was warm, and it was pleasant to sit in front of our barracks after tattoo and listen to the singing, which was one of our daily pleasures. Charley Ewer, till he was wounded at Whitehall, was the acknowledged chorister. There were good vocalists in all the companies, and rarely did a pleasant evening pass but “Kingdom Coming,” “Louisiana Lowlands,” “Rest for the Weary,” or some other of the popular airs were heard in the camp.

The entertainments given on Thanksgiving were so successful that they were followed by others, each more elaborate than those preceding. One was given on New Year's evening, the programme being as follows:—





SECOND Dramatic and Musical ENTERTAINMENT, BY THE 44TH REGIMENTAL DRAMATIC ASSOCIATION, ON NEW YEAR'S EVENING, JAN. 1, 1863.

PROLOGUE — (Original.)Harry T. Reed.
OVERTURE.Band.
RECITATION — (Selected.)F. D. Wheeler.
SONG.Quartette Club.
RECITATION.C. A. Chase.
RECITATION — (Humorous.)E. L. Hill.

BAND.

After which the Grand Final Scene from The Merchant of Venice.

SHYLOCK,H. T. Reed.
DUKE,W. Howard.
ANTONIO,De F. Safford.
BASSANIO,F. D. Wheeler.
GRATIANO,J. H. Waterman.
PORTIA,L. Millar.
SOLANIO,F. A. Sayer.

BAND. To be followed by A GRAND MINSTREL SCENE.

OPENING CHORUS.Company.
LOUISIANA LOWLANDS.H. Howard.
DOLLY DAY.F. A. Sayer.
SHELLS OF THE OCEAN.H. Howard.
SUSIANNA SIMPKINS.F. A. Sayer.
HAM FAT MAN.J. H. Myers.

The whole to conclude with A Terrible Cat-ass-trophe on the North Atlantic R.R.

CHARACTERS BY THE COMPANY.

Director,H. T. REED.
Assistant Manager,De F. SAFFORD.
Secretary,W. HOWARD.
Treasurer,J. M. WATERMAN.

EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE:

F. D. Wheeler,L. Millar,F. A. Sayer.





The next affair, which was entirely impromptu, occurred in the barracks of Company D, January 19. One of the boys was playing a dancing tune on the flute. The idea of a ball was suggested. No time could be taken to prepare suitable costumes, but it is doubtful if the grandest society ball was more enjoyed by the participants than was this. It was all too brief; so a more elaborate one was arranged for the following evening in the same barrack. The card of invitation was as follows:—

GRAND BALL.

Sir, — The pleasure of your company, with ladies, is respectfully solicited at a Grand Ball, to be held in the Grand Parlor of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, (No. 4 New Berne), on Tuesday Evening, January 20, 1863.

MANAGERS.
C. H. Demeritt,Willard Howard,J. E. Leighton.

COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS.
Benj. F. Burchsted,C. D. Newell,W. G. Reed,H. D. Stanwood,
W. E. Savery,F. A. Sayer,F. M. Flanders,H. Howard,
J. B. Gardner,Joe Simonds,Charles Adams,G. W. Hight.

MUSIC.

Quintzelbottom's Grand Quadrille and Serenade Band.

(One Violin.)

Tickets $00.03 each, to be had of the Managers.

No Postage Stamps or Sutler's Checks taken in payment.

N. B. — Ladies will be allowed to smoke.

Persons wishing carriages will please apply to Lieutenant White, of the Ambulance Corpse.

Persons wishing anything stronger than Water are referred to the “Sanitary.”

The following was the order of dances:—

1. Sicilian Circle,March to Tarboro’.
2. Quadrille,New England Guards.
3. Polka Quadrille,Kinston Galop.
4. Quadrille,Yankee Doodle.

INTERMISSION.

Waltz, Polka Redowa, Schottische.

5. Quadrille,Bloody 44th Quickstep.
6. Les Lanciers,Connecticut 10th March.
7. Quadrille,Lee's March.
8. Contra(Virginia Reel),Rebel's Last Skedaddle.





Shelter-tents, artistically draped, made excellent skirts for the ladies, albeit they were rather short and not over-clean. They were expanded by hoops procured from some of the quartermaster's empty barrels. A blouse with the sleeves cut off at the shoulder and the collar turned down as far as possible made a very respectable waist, although not as low in the neck as many fashionable belles would demand. Evidently the costumes must have been effective, for a member of another company, after glancing in at the door, returned to his own quarters, polished his boots, brushed his hair, donned his dress-coat, and claimed to have tried to find a paper collar before he ventured into the ball-room. “I wasn't going in among ladies looking as rough as I did,” he afterwards explained. The last call of the “Lancers” was original:— “Promenade to the bar for quinine rations.” The barracks were crowded, and the officers enjoyed the novelty no less than the men.

On January 24, Company E, determined not to be outdone, gave a masked ball at its barracks, and extended an invitation to members of other companies. It was wonderful, with the limited means at our disposal, what a variety of costumes were got up at such short notice. Among the characters represented were an old gentleman and lady of ’76, attended by their negro servant. The lady wore a real crinoline and wished the spectators to know it. There were personifications of “His Satanic Majesty,” “Pilgrim Fathers,” policemen, farmers, harlequins, clowns, monks, ladies tall and ladies short, ladies stout and ladies slender, ladies white, black, and Indian red. Nearly all the characters were admirably sustained. Several of the officers of the Tenth Connecticut were present on invitation and evidently enjoyed the occasion.

The rivalry between Companies D and E not being settled, they agreed to combine efforts, and the result surpassed all previous attempts. The managerial card is here reproduced:—

GRAND MASQUERADE BALL.

Sir, — The pleasure of your company, with ladies, is respectfully solicited at a Grand Bal Masque to be given under the auspices of the 44th Regimental Dramatic Association, at the Barracks of Companies D and E, on

MONDAY EVENING, FEB. 23, 1863.





The management desire to state that nothing will be left undone to render it the party of the season.

FLOOR MANAGERS.
Willard Howard,J. B. Rice,Harry T. Reed.

COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS.
Sergeant G. L. Tripp,Company DPrivate F. A. Sayer,Company D
Sergeant H. A. Homer,Company EPrivate H. Howard,Company D
Corporal Z. T. Haines,Company DPrivate J. H. Waterman, Jr.Company D
Corporal J. B. Gardner,Company DPrivate A. H. Bradish,Company E
Corporal J. W. Cartwright,Company EPrivate C. H. Demeritt,Company D
Corporal M. E. Boyd,Company DPrivate D. Howard,Company D
Corporal C. E. Tucker,Company EPrivate E. L. Hill,Company A

In order to defray the expenses, Tickets will be placed at 10 cents each, to be procured of the Managers. No tickets sold at the door. Visitors are expected to appear en costume.

Music by the New Berne Quadrille Band, five pieces.

The Management desire to express their sincere thanks to the Officers of this Regiment for the many favors granted by them in aid of this undertaking.

The hall will be appropriately decorated.

By permission of the officers the partition was removed between the barracks of the two companies, making a large room about thirty-eight by one hundred feet. The decorations were elaborate; and thanks to Charley Wheeler's skilful brush, the walls were adorned with appropriate mottoes. Corporals Rice and Cartwright of Company E, and Willard Howard and Corporal Gardner of Company D, acted as floor managers. Harry Reed attended to other duties equally important. Generals Foster and Wessells were present, as were also a number of field, line, and staff officers. Our regimental band furnished military music, and a string band played for the dancing. The barracks were literally packed. We regret that space forbids giving a full description. “Corporal” and one of our diarists wrote home full and glowing accounts.

Just after one of these entertainments the colonel met Willard Howard and congratulated him on its success, adding, “I am proud of what the boys are doing and will help them in any way that I can.” This conversation was repeated to one or two of the men, among whom was Corporal Haines. He immediately proposed to write the text of an opera if Howard and others would





attend to the music and staging. The idea was most favorably received, committees were appointed, and the result was “Il Recruitio.” No one would confess to a knowledge of Italian, so, as we wished to call the opera “The Recruit,” we translated it after the rule given by some humorous author as nearly as we could. This opera was founded upon the imaginary adventures of one of our members, and described his enlistment at Boylston Hall; the hardships and trials endured on his introduction to military life; his perils by sea and by land; recounted in glowing verse his valorous deeds in pursuit of personal safety and forage; and finally bade him adieu in Plymouth, a captive to the charms of a pretty “Secesh” maiden, one “Nancy Skittletop.”1 Where so many contributed to the success, it would be invidious to particularize; but we think none will deny that a large share of the credit belongs to Willard, Davis, and Henry Howard, — the “Howard boys,” as they were universally known, — and to our incomparable scenic artist and “Nancy Skittletop,” Fred. Sayer. Scenery from the old New Berne theatre was placed at the disposal of the committee, and shelter-tents, flags kindly loaned by different regiments and the Navy, and red and blue shirts and drawers furnished by the hospital department were utilized in the decoration. Companies B and F were on picket at Batchelder's Creek, so their barracks were used for the performances. A stage was erected at the lower end of F's barrack, toward the sutler's. The orchestra, composed mainly of members of our regiment, with Charley Hooke as leader, was reinforced by Captain Daniel of the One Hundred and Fifty-eighth New York, and Mr. McCready, a civilian.

The opera was given on Wednesday evening, March 11, to an audience composed principally of members of our own regiment. On Thursday evening the performance was complimentary to General Foster and staff, and one diarist notes that by actual count there were twenty-seven ladies present. On Friday evening it was given for the third time, to satisfy the demands of those who had failed to gain admission to either of the previous

[note]



representations. At the close of the final performance the committee and actors, with the approval of the colonel, who thought they had earned some privileges, adjourned to the quarters of the officers of Company B, where they enjoyed quite a nice supper, the bill of fare being a decided change from the usual regimental diet. After our return to Boston, the opera, with but a few changes in the cast, was given at Tremont Temple, and received most favorable comment from dramatic critics.

Another scheme to employ part of our leisure was that of debating clubs. These were formed in several companies, and proved quite attractive to many of our men. Some of the topics discussed were rather abstruse, but at the age we then were that fact did not trouble us, and we settled them all to our entire satisfaction. Another literary enterprise attempted was that of the establishment of a magazine. It was called “The Bay State Forty-fourth,” being printed and published in Boston, but edited by DeForest Safford of Company F; the articles, which related wholly to regimental matters, were contributed by different members. Only one number was published, as various causes prevented the continuation of the enterprise.

February 25, General Foster reviewed the corps. The ground on which the review took place was on the other side of the Trent River. The march was short, — we left camp at 8.30 A. M. and returned at 3 P. M., — but it was one of the most fatiguing days in our experience. Colonel Lee was in command of the brigade, and Lieutenant-Colonel Cabot had charge of the regiment. Undoubtedly it was a fine sight to the spectators, but the men certainly thought “the play was not worth the candle.” Colonel Lee told us afterwards that General Foster gave the Twenty-fifth Massachusetts the credit of doing the finest marching of any regiment that participated, but that the general's staff were unanimously of the opinion that none deserved more praise than the Forty-fourth.

Whenever we went off on an expedition there was always a percentage who from illness or other causes were unable to accompany us. These men were styled the “Home Guard.” While we were absent their duties were light, camp and police guard being the only ones they were called upon to perform.





Once or twice they were alarmed by an attack on the pickets, and were called out for defence of the town, although they saw no actual fighting. On one occasion Harry Hunt, who was acting as sutler in absence of his father, bravely shouldered his musket and took a place in the ranks, thus showing his willingness to share in the fortunes of the regiment, whatever they might be.

At last we all had the experience of an attack on the place. March 14 was the anniversary of the capture of New Berne. An elaborate programme had been arranged to commemorate that victory. We were to raise a flag on a new staff just erected; Belger's battery was to fire a salute; his officers and ours were to provide a collation; and we were anticipating a pleasant and mildly exciting celebration. Just before daybreak we were awakened by the sound of a cannon. We thought it early for the salute, but in a few seconds it was followed by another, this one evidently shotted. Thoroughly aroused, we sprung from our bunks, and going outside the barracks, could distinguish, in the gray of the morning, that Fort Anderson, on the other side of the Neuse River, was being attacked. Shot and shell were dropping into the water just opposite our camp, and occasionally one would reach the vicinity of the officers’ stables. No reveille was needed that morning to induce the boys to turn out. There had been an affair of the pickets the previous evening, of which we were all aware, but none of us thought it was anything more serious than was happening frequently. Probably our officers knew more about it than we did. The men were ordered to put on all equipments, including knapsacks, and the morning was passed in waiting orders. The Ninety-second New York garrisoned Fort Anderson, and soon after the attack began were reinforced by the Eighty-fifth New York. A rumor was circulated that our regiment would be the next sent across the river; but word came that they had all the men that they could use to advantage,—a fact for which we hope we were duly thankful. That night Companies A and K were sent out on picket, and the next morning were relieved by Companies I and H. The attack was not serious, although for a time the excitement among the men was intense and the air was full of rumors.





The next evening, Sunday, about 5 P. M., we received orders to go to Washington, and within an hour or two were on our way to the wharf. Our camp experience was ended, as immediately on our return we were assigned to provost duty and remained in town until we left North Carolina for home.










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CHAPTER VI. THE TARBORO’ MARCH, AND THE AFFAIR OF LITTLE CREEK AND RAWLE'S MILL.

  • “Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war
  • Plead for our interest.”

ON Sunday evening, Oct. 26, 1862, after an afternoon's ride on platform cars through a drenching rain-storm, we arrived at New Berne from the transports. Only three days later the several companies were called out before their quarters for the distribution of cartridge-boxes and ammunition, when we were informed that we must make immediate preparation for a move into the interior; for early the following morning we were to leave camp in light marching condition, surrendering our knapsacks and their contents to be stored here until our return. The cooks were instructed to prepare five days’ rations, and most of the night they toiled over their fires. Rumors and speculations regarding the duty to which we were so suddenly summoned filled the camp, and few eyes closed in restful slumber.

At four on Thursday morning we were turned out to draw rations. At six, regimental line was formed and we marched to the transports which were found waiting to convey a portion of the force to “Little” Washington, on the Tar River.

The First Brigade, under command of Colonel T. J. C. Amory, and the artillery, cavalry, baggage-wagons, and ambulances, had started early to march across the country. The Second Brigade,





under Colonel Stevenson, and the Third, under Colonel H. C. Lee, were to go by transports.

Six companies of the Forty-fourth, with the field and staff, went aboard the steamer “George C. Collins,” and Companies A, B, G, and K, the remainder of the regiment, under command of Captain James M. Richardson, were taken in tow on the schooner “Highlander,” which latter also carried two companies of the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts.

We soon got under way, and sailing down the Neuse, passing the batteries silenced by Burnside at the capture of New Berne and the vessels sunk in the river as obstructions to his advance, entered Pamlico Sound about three in the afternoon, and after all day and night aboard found ourselves at Washington the next morning.

Disembarking about noon, we marched through the principal street, wide and shaded with fine elms, to an open cornfield on the east side of the town, where we stacked arms and encamped to await the arrival of the forces coming by land. The field and staff took possession of an old saw-mill on the field of our encampment. This town, the capital of Beaufort County, about forty miles from the sound, we found neat and pretty. Its streets ran at right angles, were broad and well shaded, and bounded by many old-fashioned, pleasant houses with fine gardens of ornamental shrubs and trees. In abundance were fig, aloe, Spanish bayonet, mulberry, magnolia, and large rose trees, and English ivy gave a cosey and charming effect to many of the dwellings. One house was approached by a romantic arbored walk, over three hundred feet in length, of red cedars, the branches of which were so closely interlaced as scarcely to admit the rays of the sun.

The place was garrisoned by a small number of Union soldiers, supported by gunboats which were anchored in the river. Quite a number of the buildings bore evidence of the recent Rebel raid, being seriously marred by shot and shells, and at certain distances the streets were now barricaded by chevaux-de-frise to guard against a sudden dash of cavalry.

We were shown the place where the raiders entered the town through the field of one Grice, who was one of the few whites





remaining since the occupation by our forces. He called himself a Unionist, but was much suspected of sympathy with the enemy, and was accused by the garrison of covertly advising and assisting the raiders upon their visit.1

On the field of our camp were remains of the enemy's intrenchments six or seven hundred feet in length.

Wandering about on the second day of our arrival, the explosion of a torpedo, which had lain in the bed of the river where it passes the town, reminded us that the occupation by Union soldiers was not originally welcomed. This engine of destruction had been planted before our forces took possession. Its probable location was pointed out by the blacks, and a number of fruitless efforts from time to time had been made to explode it by the sailors on the gunboats. On this day, however, the hulk of an old vessel, drawn for that purpose over the spot, caught the trigger and accomplished the object. The craft was blown into the air and the water strewn with débris.

Colonel Amory and his force did not arrive until late on Saturday, having been delayed by obstructions placed in the line of their march and by skirmishes with a guerilla force. Meanwhile we fully improved our opportunity to explore the town and make friendships among the garrison. On Sunday, Nov. 2, we were awakened by a conflagration in the camp which deserves description. Soon after we were marched on to this field, to camp until the arrival of the remainder of the force, our boys discovered in a building near by, which had evidently been used as a sugarbox manufactory, a large quantity of planed boards of convenient length for the construction of shelters, and in an incredibly short time most of these boards were transferred to the camp, and the field was covered with little wooden huts. Just before sunrise some of the guard, finding their fires low and the air frosty and cold, knowing we were to march, with a spirit of mischief took the boards of an adjoining hut and threw them upon the fire for fuel. The inmates, who had been wrapped soundly in slumber, awakened by the sudden admission of the frosty air, startled by the proximity of the flames, jumped to their feet, and, taking

[note]



in the situation, showed their appreciation of the joke by perpetrating the same upon their neighbors, who in turn did the same, until soon over the entire field were roaring, soaring fires of dry pine boards, which afforded a weird and novel sight.

After fully enjoying the scene, we began to boil our coffee and make preparation to march from the town. Although deprived of our knapsacks, and the change of clothing which they contained, upon departing from New Berne, yet we had been permitted to take along our woollen blankets; but now that we were about to tramp, we were told that we must surrender those like-
[Illustration:


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wise, and leave them here to await our return, it being the intention of General Foster to put us in the best possible condition to cover long stretches. Remembering the frosty nights, reluctantly we parted with them, and at five o'clock we took up our line of march in the direction of Williamstown, about twenty-two miles north, on the Roanoke River.

Our brigade (the Second), commanded by Colonel Stevenson, took the advance, the New York cavalry preceding as scouts, followed by the Tenth Connecticut as skirmishers; then came the marine artillery, with four guns; the Fifth Rhode Island; the Forty-fourth Massachusetts and the Twenty-fourth; and Belger's battery, in the order named. Following us were the First and Third Brigades; the whole force consisting of about five thousand men and twenty-one pieces of artillery, under the personal command of General Foster.





We marched out through an open field and entered the woods by a road leading from the north of the town, when we were halted and ordered to load our muskets. Continuing the march, we made the woods ring with “Coronation” and other hymns and songs, until about ten o'clock, when firing was heard ahead, — first volleys of musketry, then some artillery, and a column of smoke arose a quarter of a mile or more away to the left. We were stopped, and soon a cavalryman rode down the line leading a wounded horse to the rear, and we learned that the head of the column had encountered and driven a company of the enemy's cavalry pickets, capturing one prisoner.

The line was again set in motion, and we soon arrived at the place of the skirmish. By the side of the road stood a horse with its hoof mangled by a bullet, and close by it another with a shattered leg. There were many evidences of the hasty departure of the enemy. Fires still burning, haversacks hanging upon branches of the trees in the grove where they were surprised, and blankets, quilts, and other articles scattered along the road. Their quarters were in a mill near a bridge, which latter, set on fire to cover their retreat, caused the smoke we had seen. The prisoner was a youth of about seventeen years, armed with a double-barrelled shot-gun. He appeared pleased to have been taken without being injured.

Our five days’ rations, distributed on the morning of departure from New Berne, lasted but three, and provisions being short, permission was given to forage, and the deserted houses and outbuildings scattered along our route were searched for food. A number of horses and mules were found, confiscated, and made to do service with the Yankee force. Chickens, geese, and turkeys were run down and captured, and many hives of honey emptied of their contents to tickle the palates of hungry soldiers.

Soon we reached fine plantations. About one o'clock we passed a planter's house where the family were all seated upon the piazza, reminding us of the peaceful Sunday at home. Here we were filed off into a large field for rest and dinner, and we cooked our poultry and boiled our coffee over fires of fence-rails. After a short stay we were ordered to fall in once more and resume the march.





The sun had become quite hot, and the roads, of fine, loose sand resembling the sands which border our sea beaches, were hard to walk in and extremely dusty. There were many swampy places where the water flowed across the road from a few inches to two or more feet in depth, and sometimes three hundred yards in width. Wading through these, our shoes took in the dry sand beyond, which, held by the water, worked through the woollen stockings and blistered and lacerated our feet. Some of the deeper of these wet places had along one side rude foot-bridges constructed of a single line of hewn logs raised upon upright posts, which, though convenient for a lone traveller, were of no avail whatever unto us. Being inviting, however, to the weary and now footsore men, Colonel Lee was for some time kept busy in vigorously discouraging those who, contrary to his orders, persisted in mounting the logs to cross the water.

When the sun was setting, we approached a bend in the road turning to the left, within a few miles of Williamstown. Our advance was here fired upon from the woods, and two of the pieces drawn by the sailors were unlimbered and brought to bear upon the spot where the enemy seemed to be. Our regiment being now the second in the advance, the Tenth Connecticut, which was leading, was filed off to the right into a field and formed in line of battle, and our right flank companies, H and C, under Captain Smith, were detached as skirmishers and started at the double quick. Passing the Connecticut boys, they were encouraged by such kind exclamations as “Bully for the Forty-fourth!” — “Go in, boys!” — “Give ’em hell!” — “Drive them out!” etc. Coming to where the sailors stood at their guns, they found a creek called Little Creek, about fifty yards in width, crossing the road. Here they received orders from an aide to Colonel Stevenson to advance through the water and hold one company in reserve upon the other side, deploying the other forward until they met and felt the enemy's force.

Captain Smith, therefore, after ordering them to drop their overcoats and rubber blankets, advanced them down the slope into the water. Before they had got over, and while most of them were submerged to their waists, out of the blackness of the woods which surrounded them suddenly there came a flash, as a volley





of musketry opened within a few yards. There being no suspicion that the enemy had remained so near our artillery, our boys were thrown into momentary confusion, and the command, “Fall back!” being given by an officer upon the bank, a portion of Company C, which was in the rear, obeyed; the others, not hearing, pressed on with a cheer, gained the opposite side, and sheltered themselves under the bank formed by the edge of the road. Here they opened fire to the right and left up the road, valiantly keeping their position against a brisk fire of musketry. It was soon discovered that much of their ammunition had become wet in crossing, and the firing on our side was consequently light. Word was sent that they had been ordered back; and, still subjected to the volleys of the enemy, slowly they made their way across the creek again, firing as they retired. Here they sheltered themselves in a shallow sand-pit on the right of the road, and, as far as their wetted ammunition would permit, kept up their fire until, finding that they were endangering the gunners on the left in front, they were ordered farther back to guard the overcoats of Companies E and I. Had the enemy directed his fire lower, the casualties would have been very great. As it was, private Charles E. Rollins was killed, and Lieutenant Briggs, Sergeant Pond, Corporal Smith, and Privates Peakes and Smallidge of Company C, and Privates Parker and Jacobs of Company H were wounded.

While this affair was taking place, the column had advanced to within a few rods of the ford, and was greeted with a shower of bullets which went whistling by unpleasantly just over our heads. Thereupon we were ordered to lie down; and, footsore and tired, we gladly threw ourselves upon the ground. The remainder of the brigade was filed off to the left, aides galloped back and forth, the artillery at the rear was brought forward, and Belger's battery and the Napoleon guns were soon pouring shot and shells thick and fast into the woods. Volley after volley of musketry came from both sides, and the wounded went by on stretchers and were laid in a little grove near by, where the surgeons and aides were busy with instruments, lint, and bandages.

Companies H and C having been ordered back, Companies E and I, under Captain Spencer W. Richardson, were ordered to





relieve them. Company I was stationed on our side of the creek as a reserve, and Company E, first loosening cartridge-boxes that they might hold them above the water, pushed across and deployed at once in the woods to the right and left. Advancing gradually up the declivity, exchanging shots with the enemy, they dislodged and drove him before them.

A signal officer sent up a rocket to inform the general that the enemy had fallen back, and Companies E and I were then withdrawn, having lost one killed, Private Charles Morse, and one severely wounded, Private Charles E. Roberts, both of Company E. They brought back with them three prisoners, captured severally by Parsons, Tucker, and H. T. Pierce, of Company E. Private De Peyster of Company H, the colonel's orderly, while bravely attempting to recover the body of an artillery man in front of our lines, was so badly wounded that Surgeon Otis was obliged to amputate his arm in a cabin upon the field.

The remainder of the regiment was now ordered to “fix bayonets” and cross the stream; so, holding up our cartridge-boxes, silently and slowly we marched down and into the ford. It was pitchy dark, and, heated and perspiring as we were by our long and hurried tramp under a scorching sun, the water seemed an Arctic current.

The firing had ceased for about half an hour; but while in the stream, some of us to our middle, we were again opened upon, this time with artillery, and crashing through the woods surrounding us came their shells, tearing down trees and branches, and bursting all about and near by. We now got through as quickly as possible, and were ordered again to lie down in the road. They had quite accurate range, many of their cannonshot burying themselves in the bank of the road close above our heads, their shells bursting uncomfortably near, and small trees and heavy branches tumbling among us where we lay.

We did not reply to their fire, but after they ceased and retreated we were ordered up and on. The enemy had retired to Rawle's Mill, about a mile beyond, where they made another stand. The Twenty-fourth was now thrown forward as skirmishers, and obstructions having been placed at every practicable point, our progress was greatly delayed, and the advance made










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HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO. BOSTON
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very fatiguing. Word was quietly passed that we were expected to take some works on the left. Line was to be formed upon the field, our regiment to deploy on the right and left of the road, with the Tenth Connecticut on our right flank and the Twenty-fourth on the left, and we should first deliver one round and then charge.

Cautiously and noiselessly we moved. After midnight we entered a side-cut road, having an extensive cornfield on its left, and came to a halt just at a little bend. The stillness was painful, for we felt ourselves to be near the enemy. Suddenly a volley of musketry was poured into us at the head of the column, seemingly from no greater distance than a couple of rods. There was a rush upon our front, and tumbling into the narrow road where we were cooped up came horses and men of the marine battery in wildest confusion. Lieutenant Stebbins of Company D was wounded, Colonel Lee was knocked down, and those forward were thrown back in great disorder; but the word “Steady!” being given by the lieutenant-colonel, the men at once recovered and stood firm. The colonel, regaining his feet, gave the order to fall back, and we retired to a position farther back in the road, while Belger's battery and a battery of the Third New York Artillery Regiment, drawn up in the field, commenced shelling the enemy. The roar of the guns and screeching of shells gave to us a grand experience, and the woods shook with the fearful din.

The enemy replied at first with his artillery, but soon ceased; and it being ascertained that he had fled, burning the bridge as he crossed, at about two o'clock on Monday morning we were permitted to lie down on our arms and sleep in the field, in line behind the batteries.

Cold, wet, and exhausted as we were, with nothing over us but our rubber blankets, in that frosty field under the open sky, after twenty hours of almost constant marching and engagement, we were thankful for the privilege, and in a short time were soundly wrapped in slumber.

The general established his quarters at a small house adjoining Rawle's Mill, a little in advance of our position, near to the bridge which had been burned at our approach. The dead were gathered, and solemnly and hurriedly buried by the light of





lanterns in the grove of pines on the left, before crossing the creek.

During the latter part of this day's experience many became so tired that they slept while standing in the road during the numerous little halts when we were cautiously advancing; and when softly the order “Forward!” was given, they would topple like tenpins before they could recover themselves. Whenever permitted to lie down, in spite of the roar of cannons, the rattle of musketry, and bursting of shells, most would be asleep in an instant, only to be awakened by that recurring “Forward!” which seemed to be the only sound that reached their comprehension. There was something so curious about this that it excited universal attention. On the Goldsboro’ march, a soldier, sleeping, tired, and weary, with his feet to the burning stump of a tree for warmth, rolled over upon it and set his clothing afire. Two or three of his comrades seized and vigorously shook him, shouting themselves hoarse in trying to awake and warn him of his danger; but he rolled like a dummy in their hands, and slept on as placidly as if undisturbed, until one mischievously uttered the command “Forward!” when he was on his feet in an instant, rubbing his eyes, and gathering himself together ready to march.

About three hours later we were awakened, and stiff and sore we got on to our feet. The water in our canteens was frozen, and a thick white frost covered our rubber blankets and such parts of our arms and equipments as had been exposed. We were obliged to move about briskly for a while to take the stiffness out of our joints and give circulation and warmth to the blood. The pioneers had rebuilt the bridge during the night. With little delay we fell into line, Companies A and G being placed at the right, and moved on toward Williamstown, passing some of the enemy's dead lying torn, ghastly, and unburied where they fell.

At about twelve o'clock we marched into the town and halted for breakfast, stacking arms in the street before a fine mansion. The inhabitants had deserted at the sound of our guns the night before, taking with them much of their furniture and goods. Like Washington, the streets were broad and finely shaded, bordered with residences having enclosures containing many pretty





trees and shrubs. We found that several gunboats had sailed up the Roanoke and arrived here, waiting to co-operate with us. Blacks in great numbers had joined us on our march and soon began to ransack the deserted houses. Some of the soldiers partook too freely of discovered apple-jack, and under its influence joined in pillage and destruction of furniture and ornaments, until forcibly prevented by the provost-guard. With pleasure I relate that the Forty-fourth took no part in such depredations.

Our object in coming here was to attempt the defeat and capture of a force of the enemy which had gathered upon the river below, near Plymouth, threatening to attack and retake that town garrisoned by United States troops. They had already constructed a bridge over which to transport their artillery; but, warned of our approach, a portion went up to Rawle's Mill to hold us in check, while the remainder passed to the interior. Their rear-guard passed through Williamstown very early this morning in full retreat and much demoralized. We also expected to intercept large convoys of provisions which the Rebels were transporting from the section to the east and south of Plymouth. This we failed to accomplish.

Refreshed a little by our rest, we left Williamstown between three and four o'clock in the afternoon and advanced westerly toward Hamilton, passing scenes similar to those of yesterday and this morning. The country grew higher and more undulating. Substantial and extensive plantation buildings, with picturesque cotton-presses and ginning-houses, stood in the fields and added to the beauty of the landscape. The soil, a rich sandy loam without a stone, was easy for the plough, and furrows three quarters of a mile in length, as straight as a line, were seen on either side. Great fields of white, full-rowed corn, on stalks ten to twelve feet in height, stood unharvested, and acres upon acres of cotton were still unpicked.

The planters’ dwellings, surrounded with broad verandas, standing back from the road, almost hidden by clumps of acacias and other ornamental trees, presented a most hospitable appearance. Beyond extended the forest, with its leaves turned to a liquid amber, relieved in places by the deep evergreen of the bay





and myrtle and by the richer colors of the large-leaved oak, while here and there the stately and majestic cypress presented a deep golden tint. Nearer the road persimmon-trees with heavily laden branches invited us to partake, and the fruit being fully ripe was plucked and greatly enjoyed.

This day was also hot; but being upon higher ground, and no longer compelled to wade through creeks and swamps, marching was more easy, and we did not suffer as on the day previous, though many were forcing themselves along, blistered and ulcered, some without shoes, having had to remove them to relieve their swollen and lacerated feet.


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Long after dark we were filed by brigades into one of the great cornfields to bivouac. Every other man in the files, having passed his musket to his comrade, took a couple of fence-rails upon his shoulder for fuel. Soon the lines were distinctly marked by fires, with dark figures moving over and around them. Sweet potatoes, found in an adjoining field, were roasted and enjoyed with our coffee, and cornstalks and husks were gathered as fodder for the horses.

It was another cold night, and in spite of the fires, we suffered. Rubber blankets are neither warm nor soft. Few could sleep, and many wore away the night revolving before the scant fires in futile attempt to keep all sides comfortable at once.





The next morning we fell in at daylight and continued on until eleven o'clock, when we were delayed about two hours while the pioneers rebuilt another bridge which had been burned by the enemy. The road had followed the river for some distance, and we were halted near to Rainbow Bluff, where was constructed an elaborate fortification to command the river, and many embraced the opportunity afforded to examine it. At this point, where the river makes a bend or bow, the bluff rises perhaps more than a hundred feet; and here was placed the fort, so high that, the river being narrow and winding, boats could not elevate their pieces to bear upon it, making it a place of great natural defence from that side, and enabling the enemy to prevent the farther passage up the river of our gunboats. On the land side, however, it was unprotected except by a light breastwork which had recently been thrown up; so the garrison wisely concluded not to stay and contest the place with us. It had been mounted with field pieces, which ungenerously they carried off with them.

From this eminence was viewed a charming prospect of the river and surrounding country, — extensive fields, some golden with yellow stalks, others white with cotton as if covered with snow, dotted here and there with little nest-like groves containing inviting mansions, the homes of the planters. The silvery stream wound in and among these, and bounding all was the forest, rich in its autumn-hued foliage. While examining this fort and the fine prospect afforded, six gunboats steamed by in succession up the stream, each of which in its turn was heartily greeted by rounds of cheers.

On our march to this point the fifth division of our regiment, Companies A and G, were sent out on another road with some cavalry and two Napoleon guns to endeavor to entrap the garrison of the fort. They were led down a road leading to the left and into the woods. Proceeding some distance, they halted at a place very similar in appearance to that where we met the enemy on Sunday evening. It was expected that they would pass through here, so the infantry was drawn up in the woods above the road at a point which commanded it, the guns were pointed, and the cavalry placed among the trees out of view. Here they waited patiently and in silence about two hours, and until the





videttes came in and reported that the enemy had taken another route; when, felling trees to prevent future approach on this road, they were turned back to join the main force, which was overtaken waiting for the building of the bridge before spoken of, having previously destroyed and made useless the fortification.

The bridge being soon completed, we marched to Hamilton about three o'clock in the afternoon. Here, by the surgeon's orders, thirty of our wounded, sick, and disabled were put on board of a small steamer, with about two hundred others of the various commands, and sent back to New Berne.

Being on short rations, foraging parties were detailed from each regiment to enter the town and collect food, the inhabitants having also retreated and gone to Tarboro’, a place of some importance on the railroad, upon the line of direct communication with Richmond. The streets soon resounded with despairing cries of fleeing pigs and poultry relentlessly pursued by desperately hungry men. Without leave, some stole into the town to forage upon their own account, and commenced wholesale pillage which the officers vigorously attempted to restrain; but the streets soon became full of these, many of whom, made frenzied by apple-jack, which was found in plenty, commenced to deface and destroy household articles and carry off furniture and goods. Our boys, here as at Williamstown, refrained from such unsoldierly conduct, and, beyond searching for and securing articles and animals for food, they respected the property of the citizens.

Sitting around our camp-fires in the evening, our attention was called to a cloud of smoke arising above some of the houses, which rapidly increased in volume, and it was seen that a considerable portion of the town was in flames, caused by the carelessness or malice of some soldier or sailor. After eight o'clock, by the light of the burning houses, we were marched through the town and a few miles beyond, where we bivouacked.

Before leaving Hamilton, and at the suggestion of Colonels Stevenson and Amory, who had already made similar representations, our field officers waited upon the general and represented to him that the men were fatigued, footsore, and broken by the continuous marching, lack of rest and sufficient food, and would





be unable to proceed much farther. He expressed regret at being obliged to press his force so hard, and said that he would only have to move them a little farther, where there was important work which would soon be accomplished, after which he would at once turn homeward to New Berne.

At daylight Wednesday morning we broke camp and went on in the direction of Tarboro’. We met large numbers of pigs, lean
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and active as hounds, many of which were sacrificed to appease our hunger. Had it not been for the pigs, fowls, and sweet potatoes which we foraged, we could hardly have gone so far into the enemy's country, for no meat was given out after our start. Our five days’ rations were consumed in three, and three pieces of hard bread, with a little coffee and what we could pick up, had been for some time our daily ration. At one period of this march, during forty-eight hours some of us received but a single piece of hard-tack.

We were halted at noon and allowed to make coffee and cook whatever we had foraged during the forenoon. There was here a fork in the road, one branch leading directly to Tarboro’ and the other by a circuitous route to the same place. After lunch





the same detachment sent forward yesterday — namely, Companies A and G of the Forty-fourth, under Captain James M. Richardson, with a few of the cavalry, and two small brass howitzers, all commanded by Major Garrard of the cavalry — were sent forward on the direct road to make a demonstration, while the main body followed the other road, which passed through many swamps. The air was close and murky, and the marching very hard upon the footsore and hungry men.

The two companies proceeded without adventure until about the setting of the sun, when they passed a house on the left of the road with the doors standing open, apparently just deserted. On the opposite side of the road was a blacksmith's shop with the fires in the forge still lighted. There was unnatural quiet, only broken by the complaint of a grumbler who was declaring his belief that there was not a Rebel within twenty-five miles, and that it was a confounded shame thus to march the legs off the men, when — flash, bang! — from the brush on the side of the road came a volley, emptying two or three saddles and wounding two of the horses at the head of the little column, bringing it to a sudden halt. Company A, with some of the cavalry and one howitzer, was in the advance, and Company G, with the remaining cavalry and howitzer, followed. Immediately upon firing the volley, and before our men could recover from their surprise, the ambushers fled across the fields to the woods beyond. Looking across to the left near to the wood, around some hay or fodder stacks could be seen men cautiously moving with guns in their hands. Order was given to face to the left, and the fences were torn down for the cavalry to pass into the field. This order, however, was countermanded, and facing again forward they were marched a little farther on, both howitzers were planted in front pointing up the road, and Company G was put into position to support them, with Company A as reserve. The major rode a few feet in advance of the guns, and with his glass tried to make out the position of the enemy. He had hardly applied it to his eye when a rifle-shot was fired, and the involuntary ducking of his head told how near the bullet passed. A scout who had been sent out cautiously to examine and ascertain what force was before them, at this time came in from woods on the right, reporting





that strong works with many men and guns opposed farther advance. In front, where the road entered the forest, it appeared as if intrenchments crossed, and it was said that the glass distinguished guns in position to sweep the road whereon our men stood. This caused alarm to our diminutive force, and with little hesitation the order was given, “About, face! forward, march!” and after a few steps, “Double-quick, march!” Thus for nearly four miles they were compelled to run before the command was given, “Halt!” Notwithstanding the intimation given that if any fell out they would be sabred by the cavalry bringing up the rear, so that the enemy might not be able to get information of the littleness of the force, a few gave out completely in this rapid retreat, and were put upon the gun-carriages so as not to be left behind. One of the dead cavalrymen was also taken along upon a gun. Arriving at the place where they had halted for lunch at noon, exhausted, they stopped to rest and bury the dead.

The main force was gone. They were in the midst of the enemy, and, lest their presence should be betrayed, it was ordered to hold no conversation, not even in a whisper, and pickets were stationed with directions to shoot without challenge any one who approached. It had been dark for more than half an hour when this spot was reached, and the men threw themselves down upon the ground for rest. Now it began to sprinkle, and soon to rain heavily. Scouts were sent forward, some of whom returned saying the road was clear, and the men were awakened and ordered to advance. Stiff, tired, and footsore, they hobbled along in the rain for about two miles, when another scout came in who reported he had found the camp some distance ahead, and that General Foster had sent word for them to rest where they were until morning. Thereupon they sought soft places in and near the road, and despite the falling rain and chilly atmosphere soon fell into sound slumber.

In about an hour one of the posted guard came in saying that a considerable force of the enemy had just crossed the road between them and the camp, about half a mile ahead. For a short time things looked serious, and it seemed doubtful if they would be permitted to join the main force; but about two hours later





a messenger from the camp found and gave them directions to move there immediately.

The mud was now deep, and so sticky that walking was more difficult. It was sunrise when they reached camp, jaded and worn.

After hot coffee and something to eat, it having been ascertained that Tarboro’ was strongly reinforced with artillery and cavalry from Richmond, the general, after a council of his officers, determined it not to be prudent to make an attack, for the reason that the infantry force was insufficient to protect the guns, the loss of which he could not afford to risk; and therefore he faced us homeward.

All that day until dark we marched through mud, rain, and snow, back to Hamilton, many falling out through exhaustion, who were taken up by the ambulances and baggage-wagons, the enemy's cavalry in considerable numbers hanging on our skirts and rear, watching an opportunity to cut some of us off. At Hamilton, wet to the skin, we took possession of the deserted buildings, — the first shelter which we had had since leaving “Little” Washington. Getting what rest and sleep we could, on the next morning, Friday, we awoke to find an inch of snow upon the ground, and the flakes falling as thick and merrily as on a Christmas Day in New England.

Fearing an attack under disadvantage, we were not permitted longer delay; so we fell in and wearily marched to Williamstown, reaching there about half-past four in the afternoon, where we were once more quartered in the empty dwellings. On this day's march large quantities of honey were secured from the many hives abounding in the vicinity, and officers as well as privates were seen tramping on, their dippers filled with the luscious comb, regaling themselves by the aid of clean-licked fingers, their besmeared faces giving silent but expressive voice to feelings of gratitude for the unexpected treat.

At Williamstown we remained until Sunday morning to give us rest, being now under protection of the gunboats. Many were here obliged to go into a temporary hospital established in one of the houses, Colonel Stevenson being among the number. Yesterday, forty more from our regiment, entirely used up, were





put upon gunboats at Hamilton. Other regiments suffered proportionately more than ours, the youth of our men proving more elastic in recovery from the effects of hardship and privations. Our long marches at Readville, too, which at the time seemed so unnecessary, had done much to toughen and prepare us for this kind of work.

It being considered unwise to leave the protection of the gunboats, instead of marching us back to Washington we were to continue down by the Roanoke River to Plymouth, about twenty-two miles away. Therefore at daylight Sunday we resumed the road. Notwithstanding our rest, we were still lame and unfit to march, and must have resembled a host of beggars. Those in the worst condition were placed at the head of the column where marching is easier, and many officers kindly gave up their horses for them to ride, while they varied their own experience by proceeding on foot. Walking limbered our joints and took the stiffness from our limbs, and after the halt for dinner, the roads being much improved, the near approach of the termination of our journey revived our spirits, and one or two breaking forth in song, the others joyously took up the refrain, and “We're going home” was rendered with deep and appreciative feeling.

At four in the afternoon we filed into a cornfield as usual to encamp, and the invalids, Assistant-Surgeon Fisher being now among that number, were comfortably established in a neighboring farm-house. The day had been fine, the air cool and bracing, and the marching, on account of better roads, much easier. The moon arose bright and charming, and with serious feelings the officers and men assembled around the fire at headquarters, where hymns were sung, Chaplain Hall offered prayer, and afterward addressed us, impressively alluding to the comrades we had lost and the hardships we had shared. At the close we broke up and retired, much overcome by the novel scene and our reflections.

The following morning we started early, and halted just outside the town of Plymouth at noon. The weather was fine, and many embraced the opportunity of taking a bath in the river. The transports expected here to convey us to New Berne not having arrived, we were again introduced to a cornfield to use for





our mattress. Our former good spirits had now fully returned, and we looked forward to a happy arrival at our comfortable barracks.

Some got a chance to enter and view the town, which was found to be, like Washington, picturesque. The trees overhung the streets, and meeting formed a vista like the nave prolonged of a Gothic cathedral, and the houses with chimneys built on the outside, gathered in at the second story, many of them covered with ivy, seemed homelike and cosey.

The next day, Tuesday, November 11, at noon, our regiment embarked on the transports “Collins” and “Northerner,” the former having the schooner “Recruit” in tow, carrying a portion of another regiment. Soon by some mismanagement the schooner was upon a shoal, over which the captain of the “Collins” attempted to haul her, thereby quickly getting her into a bad position. Colonel Lee ordered him to shift the hawser and pull her off stern first, which the captain refused to do, whereupon the colonel at once put him under arrest and sent him to his cabin. General Foster, coming up in the “Pilot-boy,” approved this action, and gave charge of the “Collins” to the captain of the “Recruit,” which was soon taken off the shoal and proceeded on its way with the rest down the river. The behavior of the captain of the “Collins” aroused suspicion in all minds, for he seemed in no hurry to relieve the vessel from her condition, where in case of an attack we would have been in a very embarrassing situation. He, however, professed great indignation at his arrest and confinement, and informed the colonel that he intended to “meet him on the field of honor,” and also in the courts of law.

Our run down the river was greatly enjoyed; for though the banks were low, yet the growth of trees, shrubs, and brakes, — the former draped with moss, — and the richly-colored reeds, foliage, and grasses, rendered it pleasant to the view.

That night we cast anchor, but early on Wednesday morning we again steamed away through Albemarle Sound, passing Roanoke Island, into Pamlico Sound. The “Northerner” ran upon a bar and was compelled to wait some hours before it could be got off. Soon it was again fast, and all were taken aboard another steamer until it was relieved. The day was fine, and the monotonous





sound from the engines, combined with our fatigue, caused us to pass the time in charming rest and dozing. In the night the “Northerner” once more was aground, and about ninety horses aboard were taken upon another boat before she could be floated.

After another day upon the water, at half-past eight on Thursday night, those upon this vessel, because of its drawing too much water to get to the wharf, were taken upon the “M. S. Allison,” and at about nine were safely landed at New Berne, when they hastened to the barracks, where, to their joy and surprise, a princely supper of baked beans, fried onions, sweet potatoes, hot coffee, and hard-tack awaited them, prepared by the boys who had been left in charge. Joyously and ravenously they set to and devoured the repast, filled with gratitude for their present relief from hardship.

The boys upon the “Collins” did not land until daylight on the next day, November 14, when they too were treated to a generous meal at their barracks, which was truly a “break fast” for them.

They had just been experiencing lively times at New Berne, a serious attack having been made at various points and the pickets driven in. But the enemy had delayed too long, for many of the troops connected with our expedition having returned were immediately sent out to repel them, and the iron-clad car “Monitor” ran up on the railroad and shelled the woods, driving them off with some loss. Our casualties were one man killed of the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, and six wounded.

Thus was accomplished our first expedition. Its object, to destroy the iron-clad ram “Albemarle,” then constructing at Tarboro’, to save Plymouth from capture by the enemy, and if possible to entrap the force gathering for that purpose, was but partially successful, as they were too wary and strong for us. But we gained valuable experience, which was well calculated to try our mettle as soldiers. Under our baptism of fire we had stood firm and unflinching. Though by the blunder of an officious staff officer overruling the previous order of the colonel our two right flank companies, unsuspicious of danger, were massed in the waters of the creek just before the sheltered enemy, yet they hardly wavered under the murderous volley so





suddenly poured into them, but rushed forward with enthusiasm without waiting for orders. Of our demeanor, at an inspection had immediately after our return, General Foster took occasion to say publicly that we “behaved like veterans.” In marching, too, the best did not surpass us, and in every manner we won the praises of our commanding officers, as also the esteem and respect of the older regiments. The good humor manifested by our boys under adverse circumstances drew forth remark Toiling
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weary miles over the worst of roads, with blistered feet and clothing saturated by water from the skies above and swamps beneath, with no prospect ahead more cheering than that of a bivouac under the open sky, upon the damp and frosty earth, often some genial comrade would enliven the spirits of his companions by a witty remark, or make them forget their discomforts by breaking forth in melody to be contagiously taken up in chorus by all. In that dismal swamp on our return march, closed in by the gloom of the surrounding woods and the night, — on such an occasion, the “Old Mountain Tree” was rendered with such feeling that it left an impression which will never be effaced.

The friendship entered into upon this march between us and the other regiments of our brigade, strengthened by subsequent





common hardships and dangers, will never be severed. Dear to us always will be our comrades of the Fifth Rhode Island, Tenth Connecticut, and Twenty-fourth Massachusetts; and “Little Creek,” “Rawle's Mill,” and the “Tarboro’ March” will ever be subjects of interest to the survivors of the Massachusetts Forty-fourth.














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CHAPTER VII. GOLDSBORO’ EXPEDITION.

EARLY on Thursday morning, Dec. 11, 1862, all was life and bustle in camp, the final touches were given to our preparations made the day before, and by 6 A. M. regimental line was formed. But our start soon proved rather the prelude to one of those tedious waits that often accompany the moving of a large force except when near the enemy; and, for our field of operations, it was indeed a large force that was now about to cut loose from its base, and, relying largely upon the resources of the country, to penetrate into the interior of the Old North State.

The brigade of which we formed a part was composed of the Twenty-fourth and Forty-fourth Massachusetts, Fifth Rhode Island, and Tenth Connecticut Regiments, and was commanded by Colonel Stevenson. The rest of our force consisted of Colonel H. C. Lee's brigade, the Fifth, Twenty-fifth, Third, Forty-sixth, and Twenty-seventh Massachusetts Regiments; Colonel Amory's brigade, the Seventeenth, Twenty-third, Forty-third, Forty-fifth and Fifty-first Massachusetts Regiments; Brigadier-General Wessell's brigade, the Eighty-fifth, Ninety-second, Ninety-sixth New York, Eighty-fifth, One Hundred and First, One Hundred and Third Pennsylvania Regiments. Also the Ninth New Jersey Infantry and Third New York Cavalry; six batteries of the Third New York Artillery, and Belger's Battery of the First Rhode





Island Artillery, with sections of Twenty-third and Twenty-fourth New York Independent Batteries, numbering in all about ten thousand infantry, forty guns and six hundred and forty cavalry, and all under the personal command of Major-General J. G. Foster.

Our previous expedition had inspired us with absolute confidence in the skill and resource of our commander, and we were ready to be led wherever he chose, confident that with him success was certain.

We beguiled the tedium of our various halts with stories of our last expedition and conjectures on what the Rebs might have in store for us. Proverbially light-hearted as the soldier fortunately is, we joked each other on this or that peculiarity of outfit which our late experiences had taught us was useful; but indeed we were carrying much more than before, for fifty rounds of cartridges, instead of forty, had been served out to each man, besides his woollen blanket, overcoat, and well-filled knapsack.

At last, by 2 P. M., our part of the line was fairly started, and we kept on without noticeable incident till about 7 P. M., when we halted for the night. Being towards the rear of the column, the camp-fires of the troops in advance of us were blazing in all directions as we turned into the cornfield where we were to bivouac. Place yourself in one of our public squares at night and see the long lines of gaslights radiating in half a dozen directions; then imagine each light a camp-fire, each street a regimental or brigade line rising and falling with the undulations of the ground, horses neighing, men shouting, the great white-topped wagons of the supply-train drawn up in line, the flames here shooting high and there turned to glowing embers, and for a background the dark night with the sentinel pacing to and fro, and you have a wild and inspiring scene, such as greeted us; but we soon fell into our proper position, and ourselves became part of the scene, eager to put an end to our cold and hunger. The middle of the day and early afternoon had been very hot, so oppressive that many nearly fainted; but at dark it grew cold, and water froze in our canteens during the night. Camp-fires, however, made us comfortable; and with our feet to the fire and plenty of fence-rails both for bed and fuel, we slept soundly till early reveille.





On Friday the column started by sunrise, but it was not till about half-past nine that our regiment moved out from the field. Our march was a hard one. The roads were muddy, and as the column will always open out at a mud-hole, so when it comes to good travelling again, the lost ground must be regained; thus we had a succession of halts and double-quick, with mud and water between. Our strong pioneer force did capital service this day in clearing the road of the felled trees with which the Rebels had sought to delay our progress. Much of our way also was through deep sand; and indeed we had specimens of the several component parts of the foundations of the State; namely, sand, clay, and water.

We halted for dinner about one P. M., but before we could get our fires ready to boil our coffee the order came, “Fall in, Forty-fourth, lively!” and we were hurried off two or three miles on the double-quick. Early in the afternoon our adjutant told us we were within five miles of Kinston, and should march but a short distance farther that night, — tantalizing information indeed it proved to be; for it was not until ten o'clock that we bivouacked for the night, and then we had neither seen nor heard anything of Kinston.

All this was better understood a few days later, when we learned that the enemy had felled trees, planted cannon, dug rifle-pits, and in various ways had prepared to meet us and drive us back on the main road; while our ever-ready General Foster had learned of their plans, and at daylight had sent out some cavalry who had a skirmish with the enemy about four miles beyond our camp. Coming to a cross-road known as Vine Swamp road, three companies of this cavalry pushed rapidly up the main road towards Kinston and found the bridge over Beaver Creek partially destroyed. Hastily repairing this, and leaving a regiment of infantry — the Fifty-first Massachusetts — and a section of the Twenty-third New York Battery, which had now come up, to hold the bridge, the cavalry kept on, occasionally skirmishing and keeping up the show of an advancing force, while the main body turned off by the Vine Swamp road.

To continue this digression: the next day, Saturday, a detachment was sent up another road to engage the attention of the





enemy, and at Southwest Creek, about six miles from Kinston, found them posted in force, but after a sharp fight drove them from their position and took one gun. Some Rebels who had fled into the woods came in and gave themselves up. The detachment slept on the wet ground in sight of the enemy's fires, but were not allowed any for themselves.


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But to resume the account of our own special movements. We left camp on Saturday about 8.30 A. M. and marched till 1 P. M., when we turned into a cornfield and formed line of battle in rear of a battery. In front of us was a thick wood in which the enemy were supposed to be. Soon we heard heavy cannonading at the front, with dense smoke. After waiting in suspense for about two hours, momentarily expecting orders to move, we were told to prepare to camp, and as fires were not to be allowed, a squad was detailed to cut pine boughs for shelter. Fortunately for us, however, the prohibition against fires was afterwards removed. Provisions were nearly out, but the quartermaster issued fresh rations when the wagons came up, so we passed a comfortable night. Sunday morning we left camp soon after eight o'clock, and after marching about five miles, occasionally hearing heavy





cannonading ahead, we turned into a cornfield in support of a battery. After a short time we returned to the road, and marching past a thick piece of woods, turned into another cornfield on our right and again formed in support of a battery. Meantime the firing at the front grew louder and more distinct every moment, and unslinging our knapsacks and leaving them in charge of one man of each company, we prepared to move on towards the front.

To make more clear the position and the action in which we were now about to take a part, though not a leading one, it is necessary to go back a little.

Directly in front of the position which we then occupied, the upland sloped down through a piece of woods on the right of the road to a narrow belt of swamp, which was thick with small trees, vines, briers, and all the luxuriant and tangled growth of a Southern jungle; beyond the swamp the ground rose very slightly, just enough to clear the water, and became a nearly flat plain, covered on the right of the road with an open growth of heavy pine-trees, each large enough to afford considerable protection to a sharp-shooter. Near the road, in this grove of pines, and perhaps three hundred feet beyond the swamp, was a rudely built church, giving an admirable shelter to the enemy. A short distance further on was the river, running at right angles to the road, and crossed by a bridge. On the hither side of the river, across the road from the wood, the ground rose into an open cornfield which stretched away to the river-bank, rising slightly without interruption except for a trifling earthwork just at the bank of the stream, which all along here was twenty or thirty feet below the level of the fields.

The action (to which was given the name of the battle of Kinston) began by our force, with Wessell's brigade in front, advancing down the road and being met and checked by the enemy, who were posted on both sides of the road beyond the swamp. A line was then deployed on the right of the road, on our side of the swamp, and was slowly and persistently moved forward to meet the enemy, who were in strong force; and upon our brave fellows, struggling knee to waist deep in the mud-holes and tangled in the vines and briers of the swamp, their fire rained with pitiless and most destructive violence. Following the Tenth





Connecticut and Forty-fifth Massachusetts, the right wing of our regiment pushed its way through the swamp and joined the left wing, which meantime had led the way down the road and had formed line in the cornfield on the left and beyond the water. Almost at that moment there was a loud shout in front, and we saw the gallant Tenth Connecticut, with other troops, in hot pursuit of the enemy towards the bridge. So close was the pursuit, that though the enemy succeeded in firing the bridge, — for which they had made full preparation, — yet our men soon extinguished
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it and crossed over, passing the charred body of the poor fellow whose duty it had been to set the fire, but who, struck by our bullets, had fallen into the flames he himself had kindled. Our advance pressed on to the town, but the Forty-fourth had to march back for its knapsacks; and when we returned to the bridge we had to wait some time before crossing, and many of us talked with the Rebel prisoners whom we found waiting there also. They seemed perfectly miserable, and several said that they were quite ready to take the oath of allegiance.

The road on our side of the bridge was at right angles with the river, but on the other side divided right and left, with a considerable earthwork with six guns opposite the end of the bridge,






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and a long line of rifle-pits stretching down river to the right. The enemy retreated in great confusion, most of them to the left towards the town, but a considerable portion to the right down the river-bank. We followed the left-hand road towards Kinston, and all along it was strewn with their trappings, which they had thrown away in their flight, — blankets (an old comforter or a piece of carpet), haversacks, canteens, cartridge-boxes, etc.

We marched directly into the town. It was a remarkably pretty place, well laid out, with broad streets at right angles, neatly painted houses, well-kept yards, and a decided air of thrift about it. In the street were huge piles of corn and cotton burning; but the houses were unharmed, and their occupants had mostly remained. The railroad station had been fired, but was extinguished before much damage had been done; and after marching about town some time, we formed in line near this station to support a couple of batteries which were shelling the outskirts of the town. Presently they started along the road leading beyond the town, shelling occasionally as they advanced, and we after them. After about a mile of this we all returned and bivouacked near the station. A well-stocked grocery-store near by was confiscated to our use; and many a man will remember the welcome corn-dodger, baked on a shingle and sweetened with molasses, with which he regaled himself that night.

We afterwards learned that General Foster, after our occupation of the town, had sent a staff officer with a flag of truce to General Evans, commanding the Confederate forces, summoning him to surrender. This, however, General Evans declined to do, and moved back for the night to a strong position at Falling Creek, about six miles from Kinston, towards Goldsboro’.

Next morning we recrossed the bridge, and, passing the scene of the previous day's fight, took the road for Whitehall and Goldsboro’. We realized then, even more than we did the day before, what an iron rain we had passed through; for the pine-trees around the church were literally riddled, and in many cases cut in two, by the shot which had poured upon them. Our march that day, of about fifteen miles, mostly through sandy, fatiguing roads enlivened by an occasional ford, was without special incident; and towards dark we turned into a cornfield, and foraging





parties having replenished our scanty larder, we got our suppers and slept in peace.

The following morning, Tuesday the 16th, we broke camp as usual, but had gone a short distance only, when, about nine o'clock, heavy firing began. Advancing slowly, we at length turned to the left into a path which wound through a rather open wood, up a slight ascent and on to a ridge overlooking a cornfield, beyond which was a thin belt of woods bordering on the Neuse River. The road which we had just left kept along the flat land and crossed the river by a bridge, near which the Rebels were building a gunboat. The few houses scattered along this road, and mainly on the other side of the river, formed the village of Whitehall. We marched through the open wood, receiving on our flank a heavy fire of shot and shell from the batteries across the river. One shot crashed through our ranks, instantly killing two men of Company A. Reaching the crest of the ridge, we turned sharp to the right, came down into the cornfield, crossed it, and formed line along a rail fence at the edge of the woods bordering the river. Here for nearly two hours we received the fire of the batteries and the sharpshooters who were posted in the trees across the river, but with little opportunity ourselves to make any effective return. At last we were withdrawn, after some loss in killed and wounded, and posted in rear of Belger's Rhode Island Battery, which began shelling the other side of the river. When at last the Rebel batteries were silenced, and nothing was heard from the enemy but the occasional fire of their sharpshooters, then our batteries were withdrawn, a few of our men were detailed as sharpshooters to keep the enemy employed, and the force resumed its march.

Among the numerous incidents of the day was the following, the truth of which many of our regiment can doubtless vouch for: One of our men, while lying behind the rail fence, was struck by a Rebel bullet; clasping his hand to his side, he felt his life-blood gushing from the wound. His captain approached, and to him the soldier whispered the words of farewell which he wished sent to his friends after his spirit had departed. The captain, failing to see any blood, asked where he was wounded. “A bullet right through my side, captain; I know there's no hope.” “I don't






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BOSTON, MASS

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see any blood,” the captain replied; “perhaps you are not hit as hard as you think.” “What! no blood!” cried he, his voice gaining sudden strength and for the first time looking at his side. The dying man suddenly came to life, and seizing his musket resumed his place. A Rebel bullet had shot away the top of his canteen; the water was warm, and pouring over his hand, he imagined it to be blood, and so dictated his last will and testament.

That night we encamped near a small settlement about eight miles from Goldsboro’. During the night, which for our own regiment was a quiet and uneventful one, active preparations were being made on both sides for the struggle, which all expected to come the next day, for the possession of the railroad bridge, —the key of communication between the Confederate army in Virginia and its Southern sources of supply. The destruction of this bridge was, in fact, the main object of our whole expedition.

The Confederate General Gustavus W. Smith, then in command of the Department of North Carolina and Southeast Virginia, had for some days been telegraphing urgently to his Secretary of War for reinforcements for Goldsboro’ and vicinity, and had been promised six regiments and two batteries from Richmond, three regiments from Petersburg and its vicinity, and five thousand infantry and three batteries from Beauregard, then at Charleston, S. C. The Petersburg reinforcement had arrived on the morning of the 16th, the day of the action at Whitehall; but only one regiment of infantry, with six hundred dismounted cavalry and a battery, all under command of General Robertson, had taken part in that engagement. General Evans in the mean time had returned to Kinston, in the expectation of crossing the Neuse bridge and harassing our rear. Finding, however, that we had destroyed the bridge, Evans returned and was ordered to report at Goldsboro’, where he arrived early on the morning of the 17th. Meantime, we on our side were not idle. Five companies of the Third New York Cavalry, with a couple of pieces of artillery of the Twenty-third New York, had been sent towards the railroad south of Goldsboro’ and struck it at Mount Olive station, about fourteen miles from Goldsboro’, in the direction of Wilmington. The little village was taken completely by surprise, the track was torn up, station and water-tanks destroyed, and the





work of destruction completed by detachments sent up and down the road for several miles. By midnight all these outlying parties had returned to the main body.

The position and action of the opposing forces on the 17th was as follows: On the south side of the river, near the railroad bridge and in the line of our advance, lay Clingman's Brigade of infantry and artillery. In his rear, towards the county bridge, which was about half a mile higher up stream, Evans's Brigade was posted. On the north side of the river, artillery was posted at both bridges, and also at a bend in the stream between them, so as to bring an enfilading fire to bear on the southern approach to the railroad bridge. Having little or no cavalry, the enemy early in the day had made a reconnoissance in force with infantry, and soon discovered our approach.

At early dawn our force had moved forward and taken up a commanding position on high ground about a mile from the river, from which position our artillery began to pour a destructive fire upon the enemy on both sides of the stream. Meantime a portion of our infantry, under cover of our artillery fire, advanced across the open fields towards the high embankment of the railroad, and for a while the struggle for the possession of this important position was severe, both sides fighting with great obstinacy. The enemy was finally driven back, Evans retiring by the county bridge and Clingman by the railroad bridge. As soon as the latter had crossed, their battery at the other end of the bridge was pointed directly down the track, and in face of this murderous direct fire, and of the fire from the flanking battery up stream, volunteer after volunteer advanced to set fire to the bridge. At last Lieutenant Graham of the Twenty-third New York Battery, acting as aide to Colonel Heckman of the Ninth New Jersey, who commanded the advance, succeeded in firing the structure and it was soon enveloped in flames.

Our own part in this battle was simply that of spectators; and it was indeed a sight rarely to be seen except in pictures of battles. Our brigade was posted on rising ground, overlooking the low land bordering the river, through which ran the railroad embankment leading from the bridge. Below us, in full view, were the bodies of troops moving hither and thither, while the incessant





boom of cannon, the rattle of musketry, the screaming of shells, the smoke, now obscuring now revealing the action, —all combined to make a scene we shall never forget. When the volumes of smoke rising from the bridge showed us that the final object of our expedition was at last accomplished, we knew what was to follow, and our own brigade commander, our loved Tom Stevenson, drawing his sword half way from its scabbard and thrusting it back again, called out to us, “We'll go home, boys, we'll go home!” Such shouting as arose when the order came down the line, “Fall in, sling knapsacks, by the right flank countermarch, and you're bound home,” had never been heard before in that lonely country; and the cheers we gave General Foster, whom we passed just as we filed into the road homeward bound, were wild enough to awaken all the echoes of the Old North State.

Though the batteries were still keeping up an occasional shelling, yet we all supposed the battle was virtually over, and our brigade had marched perhaps a mile and a half when we heard the cannonading fiercely resumed, and along the line came the order to countermarch; and back we went on the double-quick nearly to our former position.

It seems that the enemy, after the destruction of the railroad bridge, determined if possible to save the county bridge and its communications, and for that purpose despatched a strong force under General Evans to cross the bridge and advance to feel our position. It was their intention to attack us on both wings at once and to turn our flank. Meantime, however, our force was moving off, returning towards Kinston; and as the enemy came in sight only one battery and a small force of infantry and cavalry appeared opposed to them. Thereupon the Fifty-first and Fifty-second North Carolina Regiments of the Confederates were ordered to charge and take our battery. On they came, almost a perfect line, in gallant style; the cool and determined officer in command of Morrison's Battery waited till they were within very short distance, when he gave the order to fire; the guns belched forth their deadly missiles, and the advancing ranks were mown down like grain. Re-forming, they again and again advanced, only to be pitilessly slaughtered by the intrepid and relentless battery. Meanwhile Belger's Battery had returned near to





Morrison's position, and at once opened fire to the left, where the woods were lined with Rebel infantry. The enemy then replied with a well-directed fire from a concealed battery. Riggs's Battery was then ordered to Belger's left, and after an hour of vigorous cannonading the fire of the enemy, both musketry and artillery, was silenced, and the fight was over.

After remaining for some time in suspense in this our last position, we were ordered to resume our homeward march. Somewhat less light-hearted than we had been some hours before when first turning our steps homeward, we now trudged on, till towards night we reached our previous camping ground and there bivouacked.


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Next day we continued our march, wearily for the most part, the road sometimes a mere causeway through a swamp, sometimes between neglected corn or cotton fields, sometimes through forests of blazing trees, whose flaming trunks of resinous pine were like colossal torches; enlivening ourselves with songs, while occasionally a band would strike up and make our march easier, as we insensibly fell into a steady swing in time to the music. The cheering and inspiriting effect of music, which the history of many a campaign often recites, was time and again realized by us as we plodded along through sombre forest or dreary clearing, the excitement of battle over, wearily longing for the end of our tramp and for what then seemed to us the unspeakable comfort of our old barracks. That night we halted not far from Kinston, and next morning, proceeding nearly up to the town, took the main road towards New Berne by which the Rebels had expected us to come when we started out on our march, but which the wariness and strategic skill of our General Foster had avoided, — though he kept up a show of advance upon it, — thus rendering useless the very considerable defences and obstacles which the





Rebels had prepared for us, and which we now saw in reverse as we marched for home. That night we all understood that New Berne was only about twenty miles distant, so making a start about seven o'clock the next morning we pushed on; but the way seemed longer and longer, and as the afternoon wore away we were still an unknown distance from the town. The colonel halted us and said that all who wished it might push on with him for camp, but the others might stop where they were for the night. Many of us kept on, and about eight o'clock that Saturday night the lights in our old barracks came in sight, and soon we were greeted by the few comrades who had been left behind, unable from sickness or other causes to go with us, and were cheered by the enlivening music of our new regimental band which Drum-major Babcock had been training during our absence.

The next morning the stragglers came in, and excepting only those whom death or wounds had taken from us, we were all at home again and our expedition was over. Its labors and achievements are commemorated in the following General Order, which was read on dress parade, Jan. 17, 1863, namely:—

Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps,

New Berne, Jan. 15, 1863.

General Orders, No. 18.

In consideration of, and as a reward for, their brave deeds at Kinston, Whitehall, and Goldsboro’, the Commanding General directs that the regiments and batteries which accompanied the expedition to Goldsboro’ inscribe upon their banners these three victories,

Kinston,Dec. 14, 1862.
Whitehall,Dec. 16, 1862.
Goldsboro’,Dec. 17, 1862.

The Commanding General hopes that all fields in future will be so fought that the record of them may be kept by inscription on the banners of the regiments engaged.

By command of Major-General J. G. Foster.

Southard Hoffman,

Assistant Adjutant-General.

The casualties of the Federal troops on this expedition were as follows: Officers, killed 4, wounded 19; enlisted men, killed 88, wounded 468, missing 12: total 591.





The compiler of this chapter has drawn freely from numerous and interesting letters of various members of the regiment, and from the following publications: “Wearing of the Blue,” “Soldiering in North Carolina,” “History of Ninth New Jersey,” “Confederate War Papers by General G. W. Smith;” and from advance sheets of Government War Records, both Union and Confederate.





CHAPTER VIII. THE PLYMOUTH EXPEDITION.

Headquarters Department of North Carolina, 18th Army Corps, New Berne, Jan. 31, 1863.

Colonel Francis L. Lee,Commanding Forty - fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia:

Colonel, — You will embark your command to-morrow morning at 7 o'clock on the steamer “Northerner” and proceed directly to Plymouth, N. C.

The “Massasoit” will be at the wharf at the foot of Middle Street for the purpose of transferring your regiment to the “Northerner.”

Upon your arrival at that place you will assume command of the post, and immediately after consultation with Captain Flusser, United States Navy, and Major Bartholomew, Twenty-seventh Massachusetts Volunteers, take the necessary steps to drive in the enemy's pickets.

It is reported here that the enemy is in force (about 1,000) at Jamesville. Should you find this report corroborated by the information you may receive at Plymouth, you will advance on that place and whip the enemy; and if upon consultation with the above officers it should be deemed advisable, you are authorized to advance as far as Williamston.

It is necessary that the advance should be made very shortly after your arrival, so that the enemy may not receive information of your arrival at the place; and you are therefore advised to close the lines.

Captain Flusser, United States Navy, will furnish you with some boat howitzers and crews, and he, as well as Major Bartholomew, are strongly recommended to you from their long experience at the post.





Much of course must be left to your own discretion, and the greatest confidence is placed in your judgment and abilities. The general's desire is to drive the enemy back and prevent their annoying our forces at Plymouth.

Yours very respectfully, Southard Hoffman,Assistant Adjutant-General.

In obedience to this order the regiment was in line at 7.30 next morning, February 1 (Sunday), and soon moved to the wharf in New Berne, whence we were transferred to the steamer “Northerner,” — of blessed memory, — which was waiting to receive us. We soon started, and, following the well-known course through Pamlico Sound, past Roanoke Island, anchoring for the night, next day keeping on through Albemarle Sound into the mouth of Roanoke River, and, as the shores drew nearer, between swamps of low trees and shrubs, bordered with golden rice, pine woods, cornfields, and solitary houses, at 4 P. M. on Monday, the 2d, we made fast to the wharf at Plymouth. Since our previous visit in November Plymouth had suffered the fortune of war. Then it was a pleasant, peaceful town, upon which the shadow of strife had not fallen. A month later it had been raided and partially burned by the Rebel cavalry, and now the scars were deep and black upon it.

But why were we here? Rumor told of Rebel forces who were building earthworks, and possibly gunboats, at Rainbow Bluff (the Rebels called it Rainbow Bend), some miles farther up the river,1 and that we were to move upon them in the morning.

But we lay at the wharf that night. The evening was brilliant with the light of a full moon, the atmosphere soft and pleasant. The band on deck played, the darkies on shore danced around

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blazing fires, the “boys” sang, smoked, and discussed the campaign. The climate seemed that of New England under the harvest moon; and so the evening closed.

Next morning (this too might have been New England) six inches of snow lay upon the ground. Light, fluffy stuff to be sure, but snow all the same, — snow that makes water; snow that makes mud; snow that makes the intended movement, the surprise of the garrison at Rainbow Bluff, impossible; snow that was not to be stained with the blood of Rebel or of Patriot, else some would have died that day. Who? Whose life hung with the snowflake in the air that winter night? Did yours, comrade, or yours? Did mine? Who knows?

We only know that the snow came, the course of the expedition was changed, and from that hour it became impossible to regard it seriously from a military point of view.

It became simply a picturesque incident of our service in North Carolina.

For six cold, raw, disagreeable days we remained in Plymouth. The “Northerner” was crowded. To give more room to all, Companies A, C, D, E, G, and K were removed to a large unoccupied warehouse upon the wharf. It was like an ice-house. We tried to read, to write, to whittle. We smoked, some of us danced — anything to keep alive, pass the time, and hold ourselves together. There was dress parade, of course, even if there was no blacking; and the gloves! Well, they were at New Berne, in the barracks, which some “sanitary engineer” was whitewashing against our return.

But dress parade seemed to amuse the darkies and encourage the “Union men,” of whom there were several living though pallid examples in the town; but chiefly it served to get at the effective force of the regiment at the moment. “All present or accounted for,” said a second sergeant, on one of these occasions. “Except thirty privates, six ‘non-coms,’ one orderly, and two commissioned officers,” added the captain of Company —, between his teeth. For were there not warm houses, and chairs, and tables; hot sausages, hoe-cake, and apple-jack, all dangerously near? Were there no attractions just outside the lines, and no enemy nearer than Rainbow Bluff? All were not present,





but most could be accounted for; and if they did not turn in at taps, they generally turned up at reveille.

But, if we had failed of the “object of the expedition,” and missed a possible tragedy, something was yet in store for us, and rumor said there were several tons of it; to wit, of savory hams, sides and shoulders of bacon, killed “in the full of the moon,” no doubt, “for luck,” some moons before, and now hidden in the
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mysterious recesses of certain smoke-houses a night's march outside the lines, and only awaiting favorable opportunity for transport to some hungry quartermaster of the forces of the Southern Confederacy. This would never do. From Rainbow Bluff we had been turned back by the driven snow; should soot and smoke-houses baffle us too? We had been dissuaded by the elements of light; should the powers of darkness also prevail against us? Should the succulent ham be lost to the cause of the Union? Forbid it, commissaries and commissioned officers!

So an expedition was organized for the rescue of the hams, and Companies A, B, C, D, E, and G were selected for the hazardous duty. The line was formed at 1.30 (Saturday, February 7), and at 2 P. M., under the immediate command of the colonel, moved out upon the Washington road, making a détour to pass obstructions, — trees which had been felled across the road to check any





attempt that might be made to surprise the town. We were soon in the wild country lying between Plymouth upon the north and “Little” Washington upon the south, these towns being connected by a main road from which, a few miles out from Plymouth, a less frequented thoroughfare branches at a right angle toward the east. This is known as the Long Acre road. On passing our picket line, orders had been given to take possession of all carts, wagons, horses, mules, or other means of transport, together with the owners thereof, — the latter being temporarily held in custody to prevent information of our movements being conveyed to the enemy. These men were mostly left at the junction of the Washington and Long Acre roads, in charge of a guard consisting of Company B and a part of Company C, under command of Captain Griswold, which force picketed the roads and kept open a line of retreat for the main force. Here was a blacksmith's shop, in which the prisoners were allowed to huddle for shelter from the (to them) severe and inclement weather, while the forms of their more hardy guard of Northern men, grouped about the fires by the roadside, under the keen winter sky, filled in the ever-present element of the picturesque.

An officer of Company B describes the scene thus:—

“Early in the evening the scene was somewhat striking. The rude blacksmith's hut, near which was our picket reserve, was glowing with light from fires which the prisoners had been permitted to make inside. Two sentries stood at the door, half in light, half in shade. Outside, groups of our men were huddled about three or four charcoal fires, which gleamed redly from the roadside. Captured carts and horses were tied to the fence. Stacks of arms stood in the road. Occasional laughs from the prisoners inside, the subdued conversation of our men, the clank of officers’ swords, the distant barking of dogs, the tinkling of a cow-bell, the grunting and squealing of rooting hogs, the clattering of geese, the doleful cry of the coon, mingled to render the sounds of the night more apparent, and to puzzle our pickets, placed as they were in lonely and secluded spots. During the night —’s platoon, picketing the Washington road, was alarmed and drawn up in line to repel what turned out to be a row of stumps.”

A cypress-swamp has peculiarities of its own. Insidiously they creep upon you. You are marching along the dry, dead level of the open country. Soon trees appear skirting the road on either





hand, growing closer and closing in as you advance, until presently you find that you have passed completely within their shade, and the road sinks as you proceed within the gloom of the thick masses of rank green foliage, with gnarled roots, half out of ground, the trees on tiptoe, as it were, struggling to overtop each other and free themselves from the muddy ooze from which they spring.

Midway of the breadth of this belt of darkness runs a deep and narrow stream, at right angles to the road, — which has now sloped down until it is at the summer level of the stream, — which it crosses at a single bound by means of a bridge, always of wood, springing high above the current in order not to be swept away in the wet season, when the waters are abroad and fill the swamp from side to side and cover the road to unknown depths; stealing out from the darkness upon the one hand, to gleam above the sunken track for an instant, and then to disappear in silence and gloom upon the other.

In the days before the war there had been maintained alongside each road through the swamp a walk, consisting of a line of single planks, or of logs with the upper surface hewn flat, these being supported upon posts set somewhat away from the wagontrack, and just at the edge of the woods. Upon these the skilful native passed, dry-shod, over the raging waters. On the night of Feb. 7, 1863, a swamp of this character one-half mile (some said one and one-half miles) in width, lay between us and our booty. ’Twas ever thus in North Carolina. Were we to halt for dinner, were we to bivouac for the night, were we to do anything in particular, the happy spot, the shining shore, was always the farther shore of a swamp, — and the waters were abroad.

But who that passed through this swamp this night will ever forget it? The path through the black woods; splash — a little water; splash again — more water; over the shoes — cold; over the ankles — ice-cold, with the blood of the snow melted into it. But we are in and must go through. No use dodging; though some get upon the remains of the foot-walk, they slip and plunge into deeper water beyond; or, saving this, are induced by the mildly persuasive voice of the colonel to forego their advantage and share the lot of their fellows in the road, whose legs — by





this time knee-deep in the water — are fast losing all feeling, and are but little better than legs of wood as we mount the bridge and enter the flood upon the farther side.

In due time we reached dry ground and, passing over a few miles of high, rolling land covered with plantations, finally reached our destination (namely, the smoke-houses, which were situated about fourteen miles from Plymouth) at 9 P. M.

Here some time was spent in collecting such of the fatness of the land as it was thought best to transfer to loyal possession. This work — the regular part of it — was done by detachments to whom the duty was assigned; while considerable volunteer foraging was accomplished by numbers of enterprising privates and non-commissioned officers, resulting in the capture of the usual fowls, pigs, and apple-jack, tin cans, coffee-pots, odds and ends, — and one man reported a lot of hymn-books. The official result, as stated by the colonel in his report, consisted of twenty-two horses and mules, sixteen carts, and 3,385 pounds of bacon, which latter circumstance gave to this night's work the name of the “Ham Fat March.” Of this, little more remains to be said. Our guards were called in, and the return march commenced at midnight.


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It was the fortune of the writer to be with the rear company upon the return trip. Since we had passed the swamp upon our outward way, and while our foraging was going on, the moon had come up high over the woods, and the spectacle of that home tramp through the water was one long to be remembered.





Straight out before us, in the brilliant moonlight, went five hundred men, laughing, shouting, splashing and tossing the water, — still as cold, and now, in the clear moonlight, as brilliant as jewels of ice. In the midst of all this were mounted the field officers, and, hurried along by their escort, came the teams which had been impressed into the service for the night, and for any duty that might be put upon them.

If comrades — and — thought to save a second wetting, and took possession of a disengaged mule-cart for the return trip, and if in the midst of the deepest water the pin came out and they went under, to the great delight of their fellows, the Muse of History shall record the fact, but will hide their names (which she knows) in her heart, lest future descendants of these heroes fall out among themselves and call her a beldame and an ignoramus for not recording (what she does not know) who got the first wetting.

At 5.30 the next morning, Sunday, February 8, we reached Plymouth, wet, tired, and hungry, and at once sought such food and shelter as were to be had. This was our last day in Plymouth, the lack of fuel obliging the “Northerner” to leave the river earlier than might otherwise have been the case. We went on board that afternoon, passed down the river, and, after anchoring at Roanoke Island and securing a supply of coal, arrived at New Berne on the evening of Tuesday, February 10.

Landing upon the south side of the Trent River, we crossed the bridge, whence a march through the city soon brought us to our barracks, which opened their gleaming and freshly whitewashed arms to receive us.

Thus ended the Plymouth expedition of February, 1863. To give historical finish to the narrative, Colonel Lee's official report is given in full below.

REPORT OF COLONEL FRANCIS L. LEE.

Headquarters Forty-fourth Regiment Mass. Vol. Militia, Camp Stevenson, New Berne, Feb. 14, 1863.

Captain, — I have the honor to report that in obedience to order of Jan. 31, 1863, I embarked my command on steamer “Northerner” and arrived at Plymouth, N. C., at 4 P. M. on February 2.





Upon landing I consulted with Major Bartholomew, Twenty-seventh Massachusetts Regiment, commander of the post, in regard to closing the lines; but learning from him that information of our arrival and probable force had undoubtedly been sent forward to the enemy even before our arrival, I deemed it unwise to interfere with existing arrangements in regard to passing the lines.

Learning that Commodore Flusser was absent, I proceeded in company with Major Bartholomew to inspect the location of his pickets and his preparations for defence, and found the pickets well placed, his precautions against surprise sufficient, and every advantage taken of the natural defences of the town, the major having almost completed a ditch connecting the two swamps lying south of the town. Inside of this ditch, which is about six feet in depth and about fifteen feet wide, the earth is thrown up sufficiently high to afford shelter for sharpshooters. Major Bartholomew proposes to erect a small block-house where the Long Acre road crosses this ditch, and also one upon the Jamesville road at the crossing of the ditch. My carpenters built drawbridges for each of these roads, and I would respectfully suggest that two field howitzers would render the defence of these roads easy against any force likely to be brought against them, and that they are most earnestly desired by Major Bartholomew. I would also recommend a further supply of axes and shovels, as the want of these tools prevents Major Bartholomew from availing himself fully of the services of the contrabands in his command.

Upon the Long Acre road the picket is stationed at the ditch, about three-quarters of a mile from the custom-house, with an outer picket of five men half a mile in advance at the junction of the road with the Lee's Mill road. At this point there is a blockade of trees fallen across the road.

Upon the Columbia road the picket is established just west of the bridge, crossing Coneby Creek, about two miles from the custom-house. This bridge is taken up each night and affords an easy and sure defence, as the creek is very deep.

Upon the Jamesville road the picket is at the ditch, about one mile from the custom-house, and a cavalry vedette is stationed about half a mile in advance.

Upon inquiring as to the probable force and location of the enemy, I learned from Major Bartholomew that he, in company with Commodore Flusser, had, on January 30, made a reconnoissance as far as Jamesville on the gunboat “Commodore Perry,” shelling the woods at various points but finding no signs of the presence of the enemy. It was the opinion of Major Bartholomew that the position and strength of the enemy was as follows: Two companies of the Seventeenth North Carolina Regiment at Rainbow Bluff, with two field pieces; the remainder of that regiment, with





four field pieces, in the vicinity of the bluff, anywhere between Hamilton and Williamston; four companies of infantry some seven miles northwest of Washington, and the remainder of their regiment at or near Greenville; three companies of cavalry scouting anywhere between the Tar and Roanoke Rivers.

A cavalry scout to Ward's Bridge, some four miles from town, failed to discover any signs of Rebel scouts, though they learned that parties of two or three cavalrymen had been seen in that vicinity within a week.

Commodore Flusser arrived on the evening of the 2d of February, and after consultation I arranged to go with my regiment on his three gunboats to Williamston, starting the next morning at seven o'clock and landing at Williamston or Jamesville as might be thought best, — the landing party to be supported by three boat howitzers and their crews, under command of Lieutenant Furness, of the “Valley City.” On the following morning a drifting snow-storm rendered any advance by land or water impossible; the impassable state of the roads also prevented an expedition to Windsor to confiscate bacon packed for Rebel use.

On Friday, February 6, finding that no coal could be furnished to our transport by the Navy, and that my pioneers were unable to supply the requisite quantity of wood, I was obliged to send out some three miles to buy and draw some dry wood belonging to Mr. Harrison, a loyal man living on the Long Acre road. Before starting the wagons Major Bartholomew told me that he had good reason to believe that many of the inhabitants upon that road had abused their protection papers by smuggling out salt in larger quantities than they needed for home consumption; that they had packed large stores of bacon intended for the use of the Rebel troops; that he thought an examination and confiscation of a portion of their bacon, if found in such large quantities, would be desirable. I therefore took four of my companies and went some thirteen miles out, taking on the way the horses, mules, and carts to transport the pork if found. I examined the farms of the persons suspected, and finding from two to three tons of bacon, took from four of them 3,385 pounds, leaving much, for want of transportation, which I think would properly have been brought away. This bacon, with twenty-two horses and mules and sixteen carts, I handed over to Major Bartholomew, leaving it to his judgment to return any of the horses and carts to persons in whose loyalty he had confidence, and directing him to see that quartermaster's receipts for the property taken should be given to the parties, in order that if they could rebut the testimony with regard to their sympathy and aid for the Rebel cause they might receive payment from the Government.

On Sunday morning, being informed by the captain of our transport that unless we started then he would be obliged to lay at Plymouth until coal was found him, and my rations not being sufficient for over two days





longer, I left Plymouth that afternoon, and after anchoring at Roanoke for coal, arrived here on the evening of Tuesday, February 10.

Yours, with respect,

Francis L. Lee,

Colonel Commanding Forty-fourth Regiment M. V. M.

Captain Andrew Stewart,

Assistant Adjutant-General.

P. S. — Enclosed please find instructions received from headquarters relative to the movement above stated.

(Indorsement.)

Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps, New Berne, N. C., February 15, 1863.

Approved and respectfully forwarded.

H. W. Wessells,

Brigadier-General Volunteers. Commanding.














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CHAPTER IX. WASHINGTON.1

ON Sunday, March 15, the day following the attack on Fort Anderson, things had seemingly returned to their usual state; the ordinary routine of inspection, etc., was followed, and nothing uncommon happened until late in the afternoon. At half-past five o'clock, while Company G were drawing their supper at the cook-house window, Lieutenant Odiorne came in, saying, “Boys, we've got marching orders,” adding that we were to carry shelter-tents, and in fact could “go heavy,” as we should probably have no marching to do, — “and be ready to move in half an hour.”

The manner in which the news was received was in marked contrast with the wild excitement caused by the orders for the Tarboro’ and Goldsboro’ expeditions; few remarks were made; the knapsacks had been packed since the day before; the men went on getting their supper, and ate it quietly, without any hurry; and in half an hour the company was ready to fall in,

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haversacks and canteens full, blankets rolled, and knapsacks ready to sling. Our winter's experience had given us that quality of the veteran by virtue of which, realizing the uncertainty of any present condition, he troubles himself about no future, but accepts in a philosophic spirit what the day may bring forth.

Our destination was understood to be “Little” Washington. At seven o'clock the whole regiment, with the exception of Companies F and B, which were on picket, was on board the “Escort.” It was pretty close packing; the men slept on the decks everywhere; the writer found his place in the starboard gangway on the freight deck, and woke in the morning in about three inches of water, which was brought in by the paddle-wheels, the boat being very low in the water. I remember one squad of men pitched a shelter-tent on the upper deck near the pilot-house; however, as we knew the trip was to be a short one, this crowding was regarded with great unconcern. A mail of newspapers was distributed while we were on board, which were very welcome, and served to pass the time, always tedious enough on these passages.

At about three o'clock of Monday, the 16th, the boat drew up to the wharf in Washington; the houses in the town still bore the marks of the raid made upon it the autumn before by the enemy; one house was pitted all over with a stand of heavy canister-shot; another had two eight-inch shot-holes through it. In the river just below the bridge lay the gunboat “Louisiana,” thereafter looked upon by us as a tower of strength; and many a time within the next four weeks did we welcome the roar of her eight-inch pivotgun as an assurance of safety.

The whole town turned out to see us land; the street swarmed with darkeys, “without regard to age, sex, color, condition, or previous condition of servitude;” many of the women with gingerbread and fruit for sale drove a roaring trade. Among the crowd were many of the Twenty-seventh Massachusetts, and some North Carolina volunteers, but the native white civilian was scarce.

After waiting awhile here in the street we were marched to the westerly end of the town, to a large cornfield in the rear of the house of J. Grist, Esq., afterwards better known to us as a (supposed) bitter Rebel; but who, I have since been assured, was our





stanch friend, having done us substantial services during our stay. Ranks were broken, with orders to pitch our shelter-tents and camp for the night. The tents were pitched that night with muskets for tent-poles; and no regular order of lay-out having been given, the result was most picturesque, particularly after dark, when the tents were lighted up. In some cases as many as ten or twelve sections of shelter would be used to form a tent to cover as many men. Myself and mates smoothed down the cornhills of our floor, in so doing scraping the dry sand from the surface, — a piece of work which we bitterly rued before morning. After pitching the tents we walkedd out to investigate our situation. It was near where Fort Gouraud afterwards stood; south of us was the river, east of us the town, north and northwest the line of earthworks, and west, at the point where the line touched the river, Blockhouse No. 1, afterwards familiar to Company D.


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It was a clear, cold night, and with only a rubber blanket between us and the raw surface of sand we had more rawly exposed, myself and mates shivered through it; the writer hopes never to sleep so cold again — he never has, so far. Upon rising in the morning we found a thick feathery coating of hoar-frost on the outside of our tent and over everything; as soon as the sun had removed this, orders were given to strike the tents and pitch them with proper tentpoles, in regular streets, two streets to a company, three men to a tent. Most of them were properly pitched and ditched about; but some, ambitious of more headroom, dug six or eight inches below the surface to lay their floors, with disastrous results in the rains which occurred later. This work was





finished by noon, and cooking-shanties of quite picturesque appearance were also built at the upper end of each company's camp.

This was Tuesday, the 17th; during the day the enemy's advance made its appearance south of the river, though we at the time did not know it. The “Louisiana” pitched a few shells into the woods in the afternoon, but it caused little excitement in the camp, as we did not then know that it was the enemy's advance that was being shelled. In the afternoon details were made to work on the intrenchments, principally in lengthening and heightening traverses, besides laying out a few new ones.

Washington lies on the north side of the Tar River, at its junction with the Pamlico (or Pamplico, as some maps give it); before the war it was actively engaged in the lumber trade, and its river front is lined with wharves and warehouses, one of which latter, of brick, had been loopholed to be used as a place of refuge and defence for the garrison in case of need.

The town extends for about a mile along the river-bank, and back into the country for perhaps half that distance; it is almost surrounded in the rear by low swampy ground, from which rises a row of hills encircling it from the river above to the river below; on the south side the river-bank is wooded, and the swamp extends inland some distance; the banks of the river below the town are comparatively high, and clayey, and afforded excellent positions for the blockading batteries afterwards placed there.

On the north side three roads run out from the town: beginning on the left, the Greenville road running nearly northwest, the Jamesville road running northeast, and the Plymouth road nearly eastward; on the south side, only the New Berne road, which crosses the bridge.

The defences of the town consisted, at the time of our occupation, of a line of earthworks, of good profile but weak trace, extending from the river-bank about a mile above the bridge to the creek about as far below, following the line of low hills next the town; in the centre was Fort Washington, on a slight rising ground, commanded however by the main line of hills before referred to, about half a mile away. It was a small, square,





bastioned work, mounting four thirty-two-pounders, one of them rifled, two six-pound steel Wiard rifles, and two twelve-pound Napoleon guns. Fort Hamilton, on the extreme right, was of irregular trace, and mounted two twelve-pound Napoleons, one thirty-pounder Parrott, and one thirty-two-pounder Rodman gun.

Blockhouses numbered from one to four in the order in which they are here mentioned were placed — at the extreme left on the river, at the Greenville road, between the Jamesville and Playmouth roads, and on the extreme right at Fort Hamilton. They were strong log buildings, loopholed for musketry, banked
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and ditched, and armed as follows: Nos. 1, 2, and 3, each one sixpounder; No. 4, one twelve-pounder. In an epaulement commanding the Jamesville road was mounted a thirty-two-pounder.

Around Fort Washington was a line of rifle-pits and a good abatis, and the intervals between the blockhouses Nos. 1 and 2 and the lines were also filled with abatis. Traverses had been thrown up at various points along the main line, and were afterwards extended and added to as occasion demanded.

During the investment a small work was thrown up on the Grist place near our first camp, named, as I have always understood, from Major Gouraud of the Third New York Cavalry,





though on the map it is called Fort Ceres; it mounted one thirty-pound Parrott and one twelve-pound rifled howitzer.

In the river lay the gunboats “Louisiana,” “Eagle,” and “Comodore Hull,” which contributed materially to the defence of the place. Just above the bridge and near our camp lay the wreck of the gunboat “Picket.”

The garrison before our arrival consisted of eight companies of the Twenty-seventh Massachusetts, one company First North Carolina Volunteer Infantry, Captain Lyon, one company Third New York Cavalry, and Battery G, Third New York Artillery, — about 600 men in all. Our arrival and the arming of a force of negroes, which was done by Colonel Lee, raised our numbers to 1160.

By Wednesday, the 18th, we had settled down to routine work, guard-mounting, company and battalion drills, as usual. This day there was a brigade dress-parade; but the writer, being on guard, was not present. The guard was quartered in a corn-barn belonging to Mr. Grist.

In the evening a violent shower and gale demoralized many of the tents; but, thanks to the Tapleyish spirit of the boys, the demoralization spread no farther. This night the roads were picketed by Company I.

Thursday, the 19th, it began to rain. At night Company D was sent out on picket, and an attack was evidently expected. At about half-past four the next morning, Friday the 20th, Company E was ordered out and marched to the edge of the swamp beyond Blackhouse No. 1. The rest of the regiment were also turned out and stationed on the lines, where we remained until daylight. The tents having become very damp, the regiment was now sent into the town and quartered in various deserted buildings, Company G being in the Farmer's Hotel.

Saturday, the 21st, the rain still continuing, we were routed out, for a change, at 3.30 A. M., and remained under arms, as before, until roll-call. While we lay behind the lines we saw the light of a considerable fire on the farther side of the river. This day came in two deserters from Roger A. Pryor's brigade, who stated that the enemy had been in heavy force within twenty miles of us, but that the rain had so cut up the roads that they were impassable to their artillery; which was not improbable, as they





were difficult for our cavalry. They said also that the officer in command at Charleston had called away all the troops that could be spared.

Sunday, the 22d, it was still raining. Services were held in several churches. This night Company G picketed the Jamesville road; the writer was in the reserve, and has a most vivid memory of sitting and shivering in the drizzle, with a tour of sentry duty in the road about dawn as a variation, until it was time to go in.

The next day, Monday the 23d, the steamer “North Shore” arrived with ten days’ rations and our sutler; which, looking like a longer sojourn here, rather discouraged the majority of us who had come away with only the clothes we stood in, leaving our others with the “aunties” who had taken them to wash in New Berne. In the afternoon we were ordered back to our tents on the Grist estate.

Tuesday, the 24th, was a day of routine duty; drill, etc., being the staple of the diaries. Our friend Grist went out of the place this day, but little regretted by us.

From this time until the 30th our life was simply the usual monotonous routine of camp duty; there was more or less heavy rain, and those who had sunk their tent floors below the level of “the surrounding country” were drowned out and thrown upon the hospitality of those in drier shelters whose “chums” were on guard or other detail.

On Monday, the 30th, General Foster and his staff arrived from Plymouth, and the effect of his presence was at once manifest in an increased activity. He at once inspected the works, and took measures to improve their defensibility, details being set to work everywhere; orderlies rode to and fro, and reconnoitring parties were pushed out on all the roads. It is with the one on the New Berne road that this history chiefly has to do.

About eleven o'clock Companies A and G were assembled, carrying only arms and canteens, and under the command of Captain James M. Richardson of Company A marched down toward the bridge; on the way we were joined by about a dozen cavalrymen under Lieutenant “Teddy” O'Brien, and a squad of artillerymen drawing a Wiard three-inch rifle; the whole party was under command of Captain Richardson.





Passing out upon the bridge, the tread of the column caused it to shake before our whole length had fairly got out upon it. I remember Captain Richardson turning and calling out, “Break step, boys, or we'll shake the d—d thing down into the river!” which was accordingly done. Passing off the bridge we came upon the road, bordered on both sides by the swamp, of unknown depth; about a mile out a halt was made, and a shell fired up the road, with what effect, if any, I do not know. This was repeated several times; about a mile farther on we came to a low line of earthworks at the crest of a slight rise, where some one picked up a bright tin canteen of a different pattern from ours. Here we assumed a formation not set down in the tactics, marching by the right flank undoubled, each rank on its side of the road, Company G taking the advance; the writer, being in the rear rank, was on the right of the road; at the head was a sort of squad of skirmishers consisting of Orderly Sergeant Hobart, Corporal Lawrence, Adams (W. W.), Leonard, Holden, Eliot, and Jones of Company G; with them, and on the left of the road, were Captains Hunt and Richardson and Lieutenant O'Brien. At the foot of the little hill a brook crossed the road; the planks had been taken up, leaving only the roughly squared string-pieces, on which we crossed. I do not remember seeing anything of the cavalry or infantry after crossing the brook, until we returned to the earthwork above mentioned. We moved out beyond the brook perhaps a hundred yards; in front of us was a brush barricade across the road, which gave no signs of being occupied, so far as the writer knows, until, when we were within some fifty yards of it, a volley, immediately followed by another, was fired from it in our very faces; a third volley followed before we could start to deploy, which we did at once without waiting for the order; that, however, came promptly in Captain Hunt's voice, “Deploy! deploy!” We formed an irregular skirmish-line, taking the benefit of such trees as offered, and opened a fire, noisy if not effective. The fire of the enemy, from smooth-bore muskets with both buck-and-ball and the half-round “Mississippi” bullet, was principally confined to the road. After a few minutes of this we heard the call, “Fall back, men, fall back!” which we did, keeping as long as we could in the shelter of the swamp, but finding the water growing





deeper as we approached the stream, were at last forced to take to the road; the writer was one of the last to get in. When we struck the road, about a hundred yards from the barricade from which the enemy were firing, we at once found ourselves under a heavy and close musketry-fire from apparently a hundred men or more; we knew nothing of what might have happened, but we ran literally “for dear life.” The dust pattered up in the road where the bullets grazed, and it seemed as if the next shot must bring one down, but the writer for one ran fast and straight. The man preceding me slipped on the timber and soused up to his neck in the brook; but before he had scrambled out I was across the log and on my way up the slope. As we got farther away the fire became less serious, and presently we were beckoned by some one at the top of the hill to take the sides of the road; as we did so a shell from the Wiard rifle passed us. We assembled at the little line of earthworks, one or two stopping by the way to take a last shot; then we looked around to see who was missing.

Orderly Sergeant Hobart, Corporal Lawrence, Private Leonard, killed or wounded, no one seemed to know definitely. Captain Richardson sat on a horse belonging to one of the cavalrymen, looking weak, and evidently “hard hit.” As the companies fell in, Captain Hunt went to him for orders. “Do the best you can, Charley,” I heard him say. We immediately started on our return, a platoon of Company A under Lieutenant Coffin being detailed to act as rear-guard. The march was quick, though not especially hurried, that I can remember. Once we halted to transfer Captain Richardson, who had become too weak from loss of blood to sit his horse, to the gun-carriage. About half-way back the now familiar shriek of an eight-inch shell made us all duck and then grin at each other as we realized that it was going in the direction from whence we were coming, and was in fact from the “Louisiana,” and fired to cover our retreat.

We arrived in camp without further misadventure. Our losses turned out to be as follows: Captain Richardson, flesh wounds in left arm and shoulder, and had lost much blood; Sergeant Hobart, seriously wounded, perhaps mortally; Private Leonard, apparently seriously wounded; Corporal Lawrence, unknown. We had brought in Captain Richardson, but the others we had





been obliged to leave, General Foster, upon application for permission to send out a flag of truce with an ambulance, saying that he doubted if a flag would be respected just then; but those who escaped unmarked, at least in Company G, were few, —grazed skins, cut clothes, and damaged arms and equipments being the rule. It seems we were sent to find where the enemy's picket reserves were; we found them.

Lieutenant O'Brien was said to have left for the rear at the first volley, his clothing wounded in divers places, with the remark that “He'd be d—d if he was going to be killed in any little infantry skirmish!” It appears to have been at this little party of officers and men on the left of the road that the first volley was principally directed, as all who were wounded seem to have been hit by this volley.

At the same time the enemy appeared on the roads on the north side of the river, driving in the pickets, and a general attack being apprehended, measures were taken accordingly. The regiment was ordered out on the line of the works; Companies E, C, and D, with a company of the First North Carolina, were formed in line as a reserve in the rear of Fort Washington.

The weather, which had been bright and warm in the forenoon, had by this time become overcast and cold, and towards night it set in to rain, much to the discomfort of the men on the line.

About dark a rocket was sent up from Fort Washington, bursting over the Greenville road, as a signal to direct the fire of the gunboats.

We lay behind the line in the rain all night, the gunboats shelling the woods in our front, their shells passing over our heads at short intervals.

In the evening Captain Lyon of the First North Carolina, with a force variously stated as one and two companies, was sent down the river to Rodman's Point with orders to intrench and hold it against the enemy. The gunboat “Commodore Hull” also dropped down the stream to cover his position. At daybreak they were attacked and driven to the river-bank with a loss of eight wounded, in spite of strenuous resistance on their part, seconded by the fire of the “Hull.”

While they were trying to put off, one of their flatboats grounded





hard and fast; the men were lying flat to escape the terrible musketry-fire; one of the negro boatmen remarking, “Somebody's got to die to git us out of dis, and it may as well be me,” deliberately got out of the boat and pushed it off, falling into it pierced by five bullets. Dr. Ware afterwards amputated a leg and cut out part of the bone of one arm, “but the man died,”—an instance of pure heroism unsurpassed by any the war affords.

The enemy who seized Rodman's Point brought with them a battery of English Whitworth guns, which they afterwards placed in the battery they threw up there; and more than once or twice during the siege the peculiar sound of their projectiles was heard passing over Company G's position from the right and rear. Much to our comfort we learned that two of them were burst by trying to use home-made ammunition.

On this day, the 31st, it is said that Hill ordered an assault on our works. The men were already drawn up and all dispositions made for the attack; but the apparent strength of the works when reconnoitred, and the evident unwillingness of the men, caused the attempt to be given up. Be this as it may, this morning Hill summoned the town to surrender. The summons was addressed to “The Colonel in Command,” and offered twenty-four hours to send out the women and children. General Foster would not allow the flag to enter the place, but sent out officers to meet it. When they reported at the Fort, officers of Battery G heard him say, “Go back and tell them if they want Washington, come and take it.” When this reply was returned as coming from the General, the Confederate officer is said to have exclaimed, “My God! is General Foster here?”

This day the enemy began to throw up works to shelter their batteries at the edge of the woods near the left of their line, and upon being discovered were promptly shelled from Fort Hamilton and Blockhouse No. 4.

To-day also Virgil Gilbert, a civilian from the “Louisiana,” ran the blockade in a lighter, with despatches for the gunboats below. The blockade consisted of a row of piles in the river nearly opposite Hill's Point, crossing the stream and leaving only an opening close under the guns of the battery there. Batteries were also





planted at other points, notably Rodman's Point, the guns at which place afterwards caused us much annoyance. In short, we found we had to do with an active and enterprising enemy.

The batteries at Hill's Point were cut in the high clay bank so as to be practically invulnerable to the guns of our fleet.

Wednesday, April 1, the battery at Rodman's Point, mounting two Whitworths and a Parrott rifle, and also a battery some distance above, with one thirty-two-pounder, opened on the right of the line and Fort Hamilton, where Company C was stationed; one Whitworth shot went through the corner of Blockhouse No. 4, tearing blankets, knapsacks, etc., and scattering the contents of a big box of cayenne-pepper, causing much sneezing; the town also came in for a share of these favors.

The “Louisiana” could hardly be sprung so as to bring her broadside to bear on the upper battery, but the enemy's fire was returned briskly by all the gunboats. Between eight and nine o'clock the “Commodore Hull” was obliged to change her position, and in doing so, grounded, the water in the river being very low on account of several days’ westerly winds. She became a target for the enemy's Whitworths, being hit over a hundred times, and two or three shells exploding on board. Several of her guns were disabled, and three of her crew wounded; but the engines escaped without injury.

The working parties in Fort Hamilton spent a good part of their time in dodging shells; and along the whole line details were at work, heightening, extending, and thickening traverses. At the one where the writer was posted, a return at a considerable angle was thrown up to cover us from the Whitworth projectiles from Rodman's Point. The transports, with Prince's brigade, arrived in sight this day. Foster sent down orders to Prince to land his troops; but Prince reported it to be impracticable, and it was not done. The town was now completely invested, and all communication with our forces outside had to be held by running the blockade in sail-boats and lighters. Ammunition also was found to be running short. The investing force consisted of—Daniel's Brigade of Infantry, five regiments; Garnett's Brigade of Infantry, six regiments; Pettigrew's Brigade of Infantry, six regiments; Robertson's Brigade of Cavalry, three regiments; artillery





amounting to forty guns, and some independent battalions, which made up the total to close upon 15,000.

No regular siege operations were carried on, but the enemy seemed to rely upon starving us out, and annoyed us in the mean time with his artillery. We often heard from his pickets that they had “got us just where they wanted us,” had “got us bagged,” etc. About midnight the “Hull” got afloat, and took position abreast of the town; firing ceased on both sides at nightfall.

The New Berne road was picketed this night by a detachment from Company C, who learned from the Rebel pickets that our wounded were at a house some two miles up the road, with good medical attendance, and in care of ladies, and doing well. Hobart was shot through the left lung, not considered dangerously, Leonard had lost his right eye, and Lawrence was slightly wounded in the neck with a buckshot.

Thursday morning, the 2d, the gunboats below ran up and engaged the Hill's Point battery, but without effect, and after considerable expenditure of valuable ammunition dropped down the river again,—being the first of a daily series of such performances. Renshaw says of the boats within the lines:—

“The 2d instant one hundred and twenty-one shot and shell of various calibre and description were fired at the gunboats and town by the enemy without doing any material damage. After consulting with General Foster I ordered that no notice should be taken by returning their fire. The enemy were briskly engaged during the latter part of the day erecting batteries opposite our intrenchments.”

Virgil Gilbert ran the blockade up the river with despatches to-day; reports Rebel pickets all along the river-banks. A brisk fire was kept up on the right of our lines through the day by the Rodman's Point battery.

Friday, the 3d, a new battery on Ellison's Hill, near the enemy's left, opened on the forts, making things especially lively for those in Fort Hamilton. Commodore Renshaw says:—

“On the 3d instant, together with the two batteries that had been playing on us, a third one opened directly abreast of us, containing a rifled twelve-pounder distant about six hundred yards; they succeeded in firing five shots, when it was silenced, our shells completely demolishing the work. The other two batteries fired ninety-eight shot and shell during the day.”





The writer was on guard this day, and while on post saw a mounted man ride out from the cut in Red Hill, through which the Jamesville road passes, and, dismounting within some six or seven hundred yards of our lines, take a leisurely survey of them; several thirty-two-pound shots were fired at him, but he paid them no attention until he got ready to go, when he mounted, and deliberately rode back into the cut. About ten o'clock the gunboats below came up for the usual diversion at Hill's Point.

Commodore Renshaw sent a small despatch-boat down to the fleet, under Master's Mate McKeever; he was fired at twenty-one times from Rodman's Point, and narrowly escaped being hit; was fired upon twice from Hill's Point. At 6 P.M., despatches were again sent down to General Palmer, who was below, but the boat was not fired upon.

At night the “Ceres” gunboat, acting volunteer Lieutenant McDearmid commanding, ran the blockade with a supply of ammunition, which, as already mentioned, was running short, as well as our commissary stores, with the exception of coffee; meat had by this time disappeared from our rations, and we were reduced to two-thirds rations of bread (eight hard-tack per day). Two men of the Twenty-seventh were badly injured in Fort Hamilton by a premature explosion of the thirty-two-pounder, being blown over the parapet.

Saturday, the 4th, the Rodman's Point battery being reported abandoned, Companies H and K and two companies of the Twenty-seventh were sent down on the “Ceres” to occupy it, but with orders to return if the battery had not been removed. When well towards her destination two guns opened fire, and she turned to come back, but the river was so low that she grounded. Boats were immediately sent to her assistance, and the troops were brought back with the loss of three wounded. Commodore Renshaw says:—

“Fortunately no damage was done excepting two men who were wounded by the enemy's shrapnel. While the ‘Ceres’ was aground she did good work with her guns. For want of ammunition, or being deceived by her appearance, the enemy ceased firing, and all the troops, fortunately, were safely landed.”

In the evening the “Eagle” towed the “Ceres” off.





About 2 P. M. a new battery was opened by the enemy on the Widow Blunt place, in rear of Fort Hamilton, but was soon silenced by our guns. They had two six-pound rifled guns, but their shot mostly fell short; they were seen from Fort Hamilton to come up and fire their guns, then run back and hide. We learned from the previous night's pickets that our wounded had been removed to Greenville. A tobacco ration was this day served in Company G, from the company fund, and thereafter every two or three days.

Sunday, the 5th, was comparatively quiet on our part of the line by Blockhouse 2, but Hall (“History Third New York Artillery”) says under this date that the fire on the fort began to grow heavy. Ammunition was short and our fire slow and accurate; the supply was now brought up by sail and row boats at night. The weather began to be warm, and we also began badly to feel the need of our spare clothing left at New Berne, as most of us had only what we wore when we left there, and wanted a change badly. Heavy firing reported, as usual, down the river; it was said that nine gunboats were seen below.

Monday, the 6th, was warm and pleasant. Company G was formed in rear of its place on the line, and each platoon deployed as skirmishers, and the skirmish-line marched up to the works; then each man was directed to mark his place on the line, and construct a loophole to fire through, with a shelter for his head, which was done. The loopholes were revetted with sods, and in many instances were very neat and workmanlike affairs, commanding a good sweep, and completely sheltering the rifleman. Camp-fires were visible all about us. This day General Foster visited Fort Hamilton and directed the abatis strengthened on the land side; also had the parapet loopholed as above. Commodore Renshaw's report says:—

“An occasional shot from thirty-two-pounder in Rebel upper battery. The enemy busy at Rodman's clearing the woods and building a raft. About 4 P. M. an explosion at that point followed by the burning of a large building. At 8 P. M. started a dummy down the river; the wind being light and the tide slack, it did not arrive off Rodman's until nearly 11 P. M., when they opened fire from their batteries upon it, also volleys of musketry.”





Tuesday, the 7th, there was quite a lively little fight between the Rodman's Point and Widow Blunt batteries on the enemy's side, and Fort Hamilton and the “Eagle” on ours. Renshaw says:—

“Having been informed that the enemy were fitting a steamer and two flats to come down the river, also that they were well protected by cottonbales, I conferred with General Foster, and determined to build a naval battery in a position that commanded the channel above. At 10 P. M. a thirty-pound Parrott gun from the ‘Ceres’ and a twelve-pound rifled howitzer from the ‘Louisiana’ were in battery ready for action. The river was well protected two miles above by our torpedoes. One hundred and twelve shot and shell were fired from the enemy's batteries during the day at the gunboats and town without material injury; none were replied to except one in the swamp, which was instantly silenced.”

With regard to the above, another account says:—

“The Rebels planted a gun in the swamp this morning and opened on the gunboats, which opened broadsides of one-second shells and canister, the range being only about one hundred yards. The firing from the boats was terrific, but for all this they managed to fire the gun once more, and I have not the least doubt that nearly every man there was killed, as they did not fire again.”

Another account says of the boys in the lines:—

“Opened again towards night. Down we go into the dirt. Both batteries directed here, — Widow's and Rodman's, — also from 32 across the river. Shells burst directly over us. Some one stands on parapet to watch; when he sees smoke at Rodman's cries out, and down we go close to the bank in that direction. Soon he is up again and cries ‘32!’ Down we go again. Again he rises, cries out ‘Widow's!’ Down again. Sometimes two batteries fire at the same time, but it's always all of thirty seconds after we see the smoke before the shot strikes.”

Thursday, the 9th, we were turned out at half-past three in the morning, but nothing unusual happened. Two schooners came up in the fog about one A. M., with fifteen tons of ammunition, and were fired into by our sentries. Nothing else of note happened this day. Artillery firing was heard during the afternoon which proceeded from Spinola's column, who had run against the enemy at Blount's Bridge.

About noon of the 8th General Spinola, with a force of some 5,000 infantry, including the Third, Fifth, Eighth, Seventeenth,





and Forty-third Massachusetts, and the Fifth Rhode Island, with Riggs's, Ashbay's, Howells's, Belger's, and Ransom's batteries, started from New Berne to come overland to our relief.

About noon the next day, the 9th, the head of the column came upon the enemy in force, in a strong, natural position at Blount's Creek. He was posted on a hill on the farther side of the creek, his flanks covered by a swamp, and his position was approachable only by a narrow mill-dam, completely enfiladed by his guns. Belger's battery was at once ordered forward, and opened, under a heavy fire of grape and canister from the enemy. Belger himself was wounded; and some eight or ten more casualties having occurred in about two hours’ firing, Spinola gave up the idea of proceeding, and drew off his men, having made no attempt either to force or to flank the enemy's position. He retreated direct to New Berne, marching with considerable haste, and reached that place on the evening of the 10th, with his men well used up with marching. So ended the only attempt made to relieve us from New Berne. An officer of the Seventeenth in a letter to a friend says: “It was considered a most perilous one, — a forlorn hope. Most of the officers considered we were marching to entire defeat, and to death or a prison.” There certainly seems to have been a plentiful lack of energy and capacity shown in the conduct of the expedition, and it seems very strange that the extended line of the enemy could not have been broken through by a force of at least one third of his own entire number, and with his forces divided by a river, the only bridge by which direct crossing could be made being closed to them. If the same dash and push had been shown as was done at Southwest Creek in the previous December, in a somewhat similar situation, it appears to the writer that a way might have been found to force or flank the position.

Spinola's loss of the confidence of the men was quaintly expressed thereafter by a transposition of the letters of his name, he being familiarly mentioned as “Pi-snola;” he was also known as “General By-Jesus,” and “General Dickey,” in allusion to the high white collars which he then did and does still, we hear, make himself conspicuous by wearing.

It was the custom of each company on the land side to picket





its own front; this night, the 9th, among Company G's detail were the writer's two tent-mates, Dolbeare and Atwood. We occupied a tent about the right of the line held by the company, and very near the second traverse on the right of Blockhouse No. 2. The well, on the top of the plateau on the western slope of which was our tent, was about a hundred yards to our right and rear; it was an old-fashioned affair, with curb and sweep and a “dug-out” trough, and with the tree beside it, and Company G's cook-house which stood “convanient,” must have been a conspicuous object from the enemy's batteries on Red Hill.

On the morning of Friday, the 10th, my two comrades had come in from picket duty, and had turned in to make up their sleep; about nine o'clock I was engaged in hanging out my blanket to air behind the tent; a squad of men were at the well, drawing water and washing, some of them stripped to the waist; some firing was going on as usual, but attracted no attention, until one shell seemed rather nearer than common, when I looked up just in time to see it burst, seemingly almost overhead; the group at the well stood not on the order of their going, but scattered with more haste than dignity, some of them making comical exhibitions in their endeavors to combine rapid locomotion with the completion of their interrupted toilet. I started to seize my gun and equipments, and to warn my comrades in the tent; as I emerged with my traps in my hand, a second shell cracked as near as the first, and I saw a splinter come spinning and bounding down the slope as I ran for my place at the next traverse; when I got into its shelter I found most of the boys of the second platoon comfortably seated in the sand, with their backs to the traverse, laughing at those who had to come in later under fire, which was quite severe, coming apparently from eight guns in a new battery, the first to reach our part of the line; as we were on the left face of the salient between the fort and Blockhouse No. 2, the fire enfiladed us and took us slightly in reverse; the mark of a shell in the inside of the line was noticed by the writer later in the day.

The fort and blockhouses promptly turned their attention to the stranger, and in half an hour the firing was stopped so far as we were concerned. When this seemed definitely ascertained, a





detail of twenty of us were despatched to the town to see what lumber we could raise to make a roof for a splinter-proof. We went straight to the Grist place, where we found that his ginhouse had disappeared, with the exception of its floor; this we raised bodily from its foundations, and bore it back with us on our shoulders, with many groans but much satisfaction, and it became the principal factor in the construction of our “rat-hole,” as we called it, of which the illustration will give as good an idea as I can do in writing; it was a fair sample of the shelters made
[Illustration:


]

all along the line, though there were as many differences in detail as there were varying circumstances.

The tent in the traverse ditch was occupied by Lieutenant-Colonel Cabot, who commanded that part of the line, and Captain Hunt; and according to the former was known to the officers as “Hotel Hunt.”

The enemy opened on us again about noon from the new battery, and again at dark; but by that time our “rat-hole” was nearly finished, in spite of these interruptions. On the forenoon of this day Dr. Ware died. The news of his death cast a sadness over the whole regiment, as he had won his way into the confidence and regard of the entire command. The fire on the fort this day was very intense, amounting, Hall says, to two hundred shots per hour. “The topmast of the flagstaff was shot away, bringing the flag down by the run. David Myrick of Battery G, Third New York Artillery, climbed the mast and nailed the flag





to its place. Shots struck the pole above and below him while he was up there, and one of them jarred him down.”

When Colonel Cabot was quartered at our traverse, he asked for a man to act as orderly; upon which Colonel Lee called Corporal Stephen A. Powers of Company G, and presented him in these words: “Here, Colonel, here's Corporal Powers; he'll sing you a comic song, dance you a jig, or shoot you a Rebel, whichever you want.” Powers was thereupon duly accredited as Lieutenant-Colonel's orderly, and obeyed and respected accordingly. He really was the life of the company, making fun of everything. On one occasion as we sat in the splinter-proof listening to the whir of the shell overhead he remarked, “Oh, thim's only pigeon-wings, boys!” and shortly after broke into song with a parody of one of the songs of “Il Recruitio,” itself a parody:—

  • “We're the boys that's awful hungry,
  • For there's nothing we can eat;
  • The bloody Rebs are trying to starve us,
  • And we cannot now retreat;”

and all hands joined in the chorus.

The position of sentry on this traverse was rather trying during the “morning exercises,” and in one or two cases was filled, when a volunteer was called for, by Private Alden J. Adams, who was as gay when under fire as when safe and snug in the “rat-hole.”

And here it may be as well to explain how we did guard duty at Washington. Each man of the platoon went on in rotation, there being two posts on the line between the traverse and the blockhouse, and the ceremony of a sentinel at Lieutenant-Colonel Cabot's headquarters being dispensed with. The tour of duty was, during the day, two hours; at night, one. The sergeant of the guard sat with the corporal by a fire behind the works, at the meeting of the two beats; at night, when a man's time was up, the corporal would hail him as he came to that end of his beat, “Your time's up, — who relieves you?” “Cogswell, sir.” “Well, go and wake him up.” Having obeyed which order, the exsentry would turn into his own blankets without further ceremony. We thought this was getting guard duty “right down fine;” and it certainly was a contrast to the elaborate guardmountings of our New Berne quarters.





Saturday, the 11th, the batteries opened on us promptly when the river-fog cleared, about 8 A. M. The firing was quite rapid; most of the projectiles were twelve-pound Parrott fuse-shell, few of which burst, but most of them “tumbled” handsomely, making a great racket as they passed. There seemed to be also a few six-pound smooth-bores. Some of the shot reached the extreme left to-day, one falling in the river, very near two of Company D's men who were washing there at the time.

Yesterday, when I returned to my tent to get my blankets, as we were to sleep in the splinter-proof, I found a shot-hole through the side toward the batteries; in Company A one shot plunged through the “guy” end of a tent, picked up a knapsack, and out with it through the other side of the tent, tearing the guy to ribbons, and dropping the knapsack a little farther on, in a very demoralized condition; in fact, as a knapsack, its usefulness was over when the shot got through with it.

Some of Company D's men found on the Schenkl fuse-plugs of some shells picked up in the lines the mark of Messrs. George D. Fox & Co. of Boston; perhaps they came to Mr. Hill, in care of Maj.-Gen. John D. Pope, the summer before. The companies on our right, nearer the fort, seem to have experienced more annoyance from the enemy's fire than we did; and it seems very singular that there were absolutely no casualties in the regiment after March 30.

This night, about 11 P. M., Company E's sentry heard a noise in their front, and gave an alarm which turned out the company; on investigation a man was found wandering about who proved to be one of our own pickets; how he got there was not explained. We were ordered back to our tents to sleep this night.

Sunday, the 12th, we were all busy pitching our tents near our place in the line, so that we could all be on hand in case of alarm. About 9.30 A. M. the enemy commenced the ordinary morning diversion, which lasted about three quarters of an hour, with the usual results. General Palmer arrived below this day. To-day we were served a ration of flour in the shape of soft biscuit instead of hard-tack; but it was questionable whether the change was for the better.





Renshaw says:—

“12th instant, finding that the enemy had repaired their fort in the swamp abreast of us with sand-bags and cotton-bales, I directed the gunboats to fire on it, at the same time ordering small pieces of port-fire to be put in the shells, which had the desired effect of setting fire to the cotton. The enemy, under the galling fire of the gunboats, attempted to extinguish the flames, but their efforts proved unsuccessful. They then placed a red flag with a dark cross directly in an embrasure and left it; when we ceased firing there was but little vestige of fort or flag left. One hundred and four shots were fired during the day at the gunboats and town; the latter suffered slightly.”

At night the enemy opened on the “Louisiana” and bridge, but without effect; at the same time the “Widow Blunt” scolded at the fort for a while, but also without results.

Monday, the 13th, we woke and found it raining. Fire was opened from the fort on the Red Hill batteries about eight o'clock, but drew no reply. After the enemy left we found that they made a practice of bringing up their guns each morning and putting them in battery under cover of the river fog; when this cleared away they would open fire, often with a volley, and when things got too warm for them they would haul them off out of range again.

Commodore Renshaw says of this day's operations:—

“Our batteries on shore fired a few shots, but no response from the enemy. Rodman's and the battery containing the thirty-two-pounder above fired one hundred and twenty shots at the gunboats and town; the ‘Eagle’ was struck twice, producing but little injury. At 5 P. M. a thirty-pound rifled gun opened fire on the ‘Louisiana,’ one-half mile distant on the New Berne road, doing no damage except cutting some of the light rigging and blocks away, the shots mostly passing over and taking effect in the town; this gun was silenced in fifteen minutes by the ‘Louisiana.’ During the night I directed the mastheads to be decorated with bushes to correspond with the woods, the enemy having range of us from both sides. Having understood that the Rebel infantry were in the habit of keeping guard on the river below to prevent our small boats coming through, I ordered acting volunteer Lieutenant MacDearmid to take any small schooner he could find, mount a howitzer, and drive the Rebel pickets from the water. About 10 P. M. he encountered the Rebel boats filled with infantry; after exchanging a few shots they were compelled to retire, since which they have not ventured on the river to prevent our





small boats from passing up and down. At 11.25 P. M. the steamer ‘Escort’ gallantly ran the blockade with reinforcements for our army.”

Towards midnight there was heavy artillery firing on the river, increasing in intensity and nearness, followed by great cheering and shouting in the town. We were turned out, but soon found that instead of the Rebels having assailed our works, the “Escort,” with our old comrades of the Fifth Rhode Island, Colonel Sisson on board, had successfully run the blockade and arrived at the town.

The boat was loaded with baled hay, and the men protected as much as possible; and although they ran the gauntlet of a heavy artillery and musketry fire, their losses were slight, being only a few wounded.

The New York “Herald” says:—

“It appears that on Saturday night, April 11, just after the return of General Spinola to New Berne, and before any time had been given them to recover from the fatigues of their previous labors, the officers of the Fifth Rhode Island called on General Palmer, and stated that their men had en masse requested permission to run past the batteries below Washington, or to land and capture them bodily.

“The offer to do this former was gladly accepted, and the transport ‘Escort’ having been selected, the brave boys of Little Rhody, with the mud of their previous march not yet dry upon their clothing, went on board at midnight, hardly any one but themselves knowing of the circumstance. So completely exhausted were the men with their four days’ hard marching and fighting, that when they found themselves on board the steamer they sank down to rest and sleep upon the bare decks, as only tired warriors can. . . .

“A run of seventeen hours brought them to the fleet of gunboats, five miles below the battery at Hill's Point, where delay was necessary in order to arrange a plan for running the Rebel blockade. This displeased the Rhode Islanders, who wished to face the music at once; but they were obliged to wait the trial of their heroism till Monday night.

“About ten o'clock on Monday night the gunboats which had taken position just below the Hill's Point battery opened a brisk fire upon the Rebel works, but were unable to elicit any reply.

“During the cannonade the ‘Escort,’ loaded with supplies and troops, steamed up past the gunboats, and before the Rebels could realize the fact, was abreast of the battery, and had entered the pass of the blockade, which had been buoyed out by Captain McDermott [MacDearmid] of





the ‘Ceres,’ through which she passed in safety. The Hill's Point battery did not molest her in passing, owing to the fact that the gunboats kept up such an incessant and well-directed fire upon the fort as to make it impossible for the Rebels to get their guns into position.

“But after the steamer had passed the blockade her trip was a decidedly exciting one. The Rebels had posted their sharpshooters on rafts in the river, in the bushes on the shore, and they also had planted light field batteries along the south bank of the river, near which the channel runs, from which they kept up a continuous firing of volley after volley of musketry, and roar upon roar of artillery, until the craft was lost in the distance. For six miles she ran the fiery gauntlet, a part of the time being within three hundred yards of a shore which swarmed with gray-backed riflemen and butternut-colored artillerists, whose every word of command and shout of defiance could be distinctly heard by those on board.

“When she arrived opposite the battery on Rodman's farm, the guns which had so nearly demolished the ‘Commodore Hull,’ belched forth their hostile welcome, and for twenty minutes the thunder from the Rebel guns was continued. Guided only by the firing upon shore, the brave pilot headed her on until the last discharges of cannon and musketry were heard far astern, and he knew he was close upon Washington. Then he espied the low black hull of one of our gunboats, and heard the watch-bell upon the deck tolling out the hour of the night; then he saw the dim lights of the town, and heard the half-suppressed voices of our men on shore, and he doubly realized that the immediate danger was over.

“You know that I have seen many feats of valor during the war, and can judge somewhat of the boldness and nerve requisite for them, and can also approximate unto something like a reasonable comparison of such events; and here allow me to say that this feat of the ‘Escort’ and those on board has had no parallel during the war. Gunboats and iron-clads, to be sure, have run past batteries in wide rivers, as it was their place to do, and the events have been telegraphed far and wide; but I have yet to learn of an unarmed transport loaded with a regiment of men and a cargo of supplies and ammunition even attempting such a thing as here narrated.”

At the same time three schooners laden with provisions and ammunition ran the blockade, being manned by thirty volunteers from the Forty-third Massachusetts, who were also lying below.

Tuesday, the 14th, the fog cleared early. We were all feeling happy that now the “charm was broken,” and we were both physically and morally reinforced by the arrival of our old comrades of the Fifth Rhode Island.

While Company G was drawing breakfast in the hollow between





the traverses, the batteries opened on us; those who had already received their eight hard-tack and their coffee suddenly evaporated; those who had not, hung on, cocking their eyes up at each passing shot like a hen in a shower, but keeping in line for their turn, and vamosing with remarkable suddenness as soon as their dippers were full. The writer had to wait for some five or six, and it is still fresh in his memory how he stumbled in the drain which was dug from the traverse ditch, just as he was ready to dive for shelter, losing half his coffee up his sleeve, to the huge and undisguised amusement of his laughing comrades. The firing was of short duration this morning.


[Illustration:


]

“The enemy,” Renshaw reports, “attempted to raise again their flag on the swamp battery; a few well-directed shell from the ‘Commodore Hull’ tore it to pieces.”

At night the writer was on outside picket; it rained steadily all night, and we were entirely unmolested and quiet, and came in next morning at daybreak very tired and sleepy; had had just about time to eat breakfast when, as my diary says, “the ball opened at twenty minutes before seven,” and continued the usual forty-five or fifty minutes; this day they pelted us with six-pound round fuse-shell, which burst well and made things particularly interesting for the sentry on the traverse.

Meanwhile the firing all round had been severe, — in fact, since we came in from picket; we afterwards heard that General Foster





had run the blockade down the river in the “Escort,” and had gone to New Berne to bring up a column overland to raise the siege. He left us the following farewell order:—

Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps,

Washington, N. C., April 14, 1863.

The commanding general announces to the garrison of this town that he is about to leave for a brief space of time the gallant soldiers and sailors of this garrison. Brigadier-General Potter will remain in command, and in him the commanding general has the most perfect confidence as a brave and able soldier. The command of the naval forces remains unchanged; therefore that arm of the service will be as effective and perfect as heretofore. The commanding general leaves temporarily, and for the purpose of putting himself at the head of a relieving force. Having raised the siege, he expects soon to return; but before leaving he must express to the naval force here, and to the soldiers under his command, the Twenty-seventh and Forty-fourth Massachusetts regiments, detachments of the Third New York Cavalry and First North Carolina volunteers, his thanks for and admiration of the untiring zeal, noble emulation, and excellent courage which have distinguished them during the sixteen days of the enemy's attack on this post; and he feels confident that the display of those qualities under General Potter will hold the place till the siege be raised.

J. G. Foster,

Major-General Commanding Eighteenth Army Corps.

The “Escort” left Washington on the morning of the 15th at 5.30 A. M., having on board General Foster and his A. A. G., Lieut.-Col. Southard Hoffman, and others of his staff. When the boat arrived within range of Rodman's Point the batteries opened upon her, and as she approached the shore she came under heavy musketry fire; the boat, however, kept on, passing at last the Hill's Point battery; she was struck by eighteen shot and shell; her upper works were literally riddled with bullets (the writer afterwards saw her at New Berne). The pilot, Mr. Petherick, a loyal North Carolinian, was killed at his post as the boat passed Rodman's Point.

Thursday morning, the 16th, the writer was detailed for guard at the traverse upon turning out; this was the critical tour of the day, as it included the daily artillery exercise; so I kept a very sharp lookout on Red Hill as the fog cleared away, and grew





more and more anxious; time wore on, and still “no reports.” After a while a small squad of men in butternut appeared on the Jamesville road, coming in the direction of our lines; after passing out of sight behind Fort Washington they did not reappear; but in a short time a column of men in blue filed up the same road to the cut in Red Hill, and then to the right along the hillside. A platoon was deployed as skirmishers and began to move cautiously upward toward the Rebel works. By this time all of us were on the line, watching anxiously for the smoke and flash of a volley from the works, but none came; and on coming within fifty yards the skirmish line made a rush, and in a moment the yellow sand parapet was crowded with blue-coats, and we could hear their cheering as they swung their caps in exultation. It was Companies E and B, Twenty-seventh Massachusetts, who had been immediately sent out upon receipt, from the party of deserters who had just come in, of the news of the enemy's departure. These men reported that the enemy were in bad condition. They had been put on shorter rations than ourselves; namely, one quart cob meal and one quarter of a pound of bacon per day; their artillery was all light (we knew of one thirty-two-pounder, and the writer still has a piece of shrapnel from it). They were falling back up the roads toward Greenville and Kinston.

Meanwhile on the New Berne road beyond the river Company E's pickets had made the same discovery; their historian says:

“While we were on picket last night we heard noises which were unaccountable, on which a few shells were thrown into the swamp. At four o'clock this morning we heard the Rebel drums beat for roll-call, at five o'clock the bugle call for advance; so we suppose the Rebels have started. They came near to the creek, but it was so dark we could not make out much. We saw a man on a white horse at the picket-post, as a lantern was in a position to throw a strong light on him. To-day Company I's picket advanced to the old earthworks, where Hobart, Leonard, and Lawrence were taken, and found everybody gone from that side of the river.”

Renshaw says:—

“Discovering that the guns had been removed from Rodman's Point, I ordered the ‘Commodore Hull,’ ‘Ceres,’ and ‘Eagle’ to shell the point well before landing our troops. Acting third Assistant-Engineer





Thos. Mallahan of the ‘Ceres,’ while attempting to land in one of her boats, was killed by a musket ball.”

It seems a small party were still left in the works, and when Mr. Mallahan, Master's Mate Hudson, and two men attempted to land and raise the colors on the works, about fifty of the enemy rose from behind rifle-pits and fired into the boat, with the result above stated. A small schooner with four or five men of the Forty-third, who had come up the night previous with ammunition, was running close to the shore when the enemy opened fire, wounding Francis Tripp mortally and one other of the Forty-third slightly. The gunboats came back, and at 2 P. M. the “Eagle” went down again, running as close to Point as she could, and sending shell into the batteries with great precision. Mr. Lay with eight men of the First North Carolina, his gun's crew, went ashore, followed by Master's Mate Tucker, with a howitzer and five men, and planted the colors on the Rebel works. Half an hour later, three hundred of the Fifth Rhode Island, under Lieutenant-Colonel Tew, and one gun of Third New York Artillery under Lieutenant Mower, arrived, and proceeded out on a reconnoissance; they surrounded four Rebels, one of whom was killed in trying to escape, but the other three were captured, being Captain Parker of the Fiftieth North Carolina Volunteer Artillery, Brigade Commander, Drum-Major Mott, and a private of the same regiment. The captain reported Hill's force at 6,000, and 3,000 at the Cross-roads. He said that town would be stormed again within three days.

Two of their guns — a twenty-pound Parrott and a Whitworth — were found burst; and also the following notice was found posted up.

YANKEES.

We leave you, not because we cannot take Washington, but because it is not worth taking; and besides, the climate is not agreeable. A man should be amphibious to inhabit it. We leave you a few bursted guns, some stray solid shot, and a man and a brother who was rescued from the waves to which some foray among his equils consigned him.

But this tribute we pay you: you have acted with much gallantry during the brief siege. We salute the pilot of the “Escort.”

Co. K, 32d Regt. N. C. Vols.

Fort Hill, April, 1863.





Renshaw says: “Enemy burst four guns at Rodman's, — two Whitworth and two Parrott, rifled, latter marked ‘Tredegar Works Richmond.’ ”

In the afternoon the following order was received:—

Headquarters, April 16, 1863.

Special Order.

Colonel Lee, commanding Forty-fourth Massachusetts, will detail three companies to proceed on board steamer “Eagle” at 6.30 o'clock to Hill's Point. The men will take three days’ rations, blankets, overcoats, etc.

The three companies will, with two companies of the Forty-third Massachusetts, be under command of the major of that regiment.

By order of

General Potter.

G. W. Atwill,A. A. A. G.

In accordance with this order Companies C, D, and I were detailed under Major Dabney, to whom the command of the entire force was afterwards transferred, and went on board the “Eagle,” where they slept.

Next morning, the 17th, they landed in small boats at Hill's Point. “Corporal” says:—

“It was the strongest point of the Rebel blockade. Behind the earthworks, which were mostly erected at an early day in the Rebellion, are a plenty of bomb-proofs. . . . Between the shore and the woods is a Rebel rifle-pit. This forenoon we skirmished out a mile or so, encountering an old Rebel camp, and the one the Rebels have recently occupied. We picked up one ‘butternut’ gentleman with a carpet-bag containing a Rebel uniform, and the picture of a Rebel officer. ‘Butternut’ said he picked up the carpet-bag in the woods as he was going home from mill. He said the ‘Rebs’ were robbing the population of their provisions, and had nearly cleaned him out.”

The “Phœnix” came up this morning with ammunition. Captain Richardson came out in a carriage to-day to see his company, previously to leaving for New Berne. He was quite advanced in convalescence, and expected to be again on duty shortly. Nothing was heard from the enemy to-day.

Saturday, 18th; the cavalry picket on our left was fired upon and wounded in the wrist this afternoon; a party of Company E with some of Company B, Twenty-seventh, started out from





Blockhouse No. 1, but after an hour's search found nothing. About eight P. M. there was an alarm from this blockhouse and we turned out. A couple of shell were fired from the howitzer there, after which all was quiet, though we remained under arms until eleven o'clock. This was our last alarm.

Lieutenant Commanding W. P. McCann, of the “Hunchback,” says:—

“Owing to buoys being removed, pilots were afraid to attempt to run batteries. Also we engaged Hill's Point battery three times without silencing it, and on consultation with the commanding officers it was deemed improper to attempt to run the gunboats through to Rodman's until a demonstration was made by the army [referring to Spinola's Expedition].”

Sunday, the 19th, guns were heard six or eight miles away, across the river. The advance of General Foster's column arrived about noon, and he himself came up the river on the “Escort” in the afternoon. The town now seemed full of troops; we had little to do for a day or two but to draw full rations, and write letters home, and laugh at the wild accounts which now reached us in the home papers of the affair we had just been engaged in.

Before dinner on Tuesday, the 21st, we received orders to be ready to go on board the boat for New Berne at an hour's notice.

Next morning we were up at four o'clock, and at half-past five were on board the steamer “Thomas Collyer;” cast off and got under way at 6.17. We stopped at Hill's Point to take on board the detached companies, and at about 9.45 were fairly on our way to New Berne, which we reached about midnight of the 22d.

So ended the heaviest piece of service in which the regiment was engaged; for seventeen days we were constantly on the alert, and during all but two days of the time there was no day when those stationed toward the right of our line were not under fire, often for the greater part of the day. The cannonading was nearly continuous.

The reports of expenditure of ammunition in the gunboats will give some idea of the service done by the navy. Commodore Renshaw reports for the “Louisiana” 105 8-inch shells for every ′ up to 20; 301 32-pound shells from 1′ to 20′; 50 solid





shot and 25 12-pound shells. Captain MacDearmid 213 shells of all kinds; Saltonstall, of the “Hull,” 331 30-pound Parrott shells and shrapnel; 138 24-pound howitzer ditto and canister.

The regiment was especially favored in the matter of casualties, the four who were wounded in the skirmish of March 30 making up the entire list.

General Foster while with us paid constant attention to the state of the garrison and works; there was seldom a day when he did not pass along the line with General Potter, and often one or two other staff officers: after returning to New Berne, he issued the following order:—

Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps New Berne, April 24, 1863.

General Order No. 63.

The garrison of Washington, N. C., composed of the Twenty-seventh Massachusetts Regiment, Forty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, Fifth Rhode Island, First North Carolina Volunteers, Company I Third New York Cavalry, Battery G Third New York Artillery, have well merited, by their steadiness, courage, and endurance, the honor of inscribing, and they are ordered to inscribe on their banners and guidons, “Washington, April, 1863.”

Per order

Major-General J. G. Foster.

Southard Hoffman,A. A. G.

In the history of the Third New York Artillery, Hall says of this defence:—

“The success of Foster's gallant little band of 2,200 [sic] in keeping at bay a whole Rebel corps for twenty days, and notwithstanding an aggressive siege of twelve days, has been justly regarded as unparalleled in the war. The merit of the achievement is prominently and perhaps principally due to Battery G, of the Third New York Artillery.”

A comrade comments on this: “The gunboats deserve a large share, as well as General Foster's personal presence, and our band.”

Captain Denny, in “Wearing the Blue,” makes the following remarks:—

“When it is considered that the defence of this line was made against fourteen thousand Confederate troops under skilled commanders, we do not hesitate to say that the defence against such odds rises to the pitch of heroic grandeur equalled during the war only by Mulligan's glorious defence of Lexington, Missouri, in the autumn of 1861.”





During the siege our comrades of companies F and B, on picket at Batchelder's Creek, listened daily with anxious hearts for the sound of the guns at Washington. As long as the firing could be heard they felt that we still held out; when there was a quiet day, or the wind was unfavorable for the guns being heard, they said sadly to themselves. “The boys are gone up;” but next day the dull rumble of the distant cannon would again reach their ears, and they thought, “No, the Forty-fourth is all right yet.” Great was their anxiety on the night when the Fifth Rhode Island came through, supposing that the heavy firing denoted the night assault that all expected. They probably suffered as much from anxiety as ourselves, who were present and absorbed in what had to be done from day to day.

The newspaper reports of the siege during its continuance, though they seem to us now funny enough, were of the most disquieting nature for our friends at home, as will appear from a quotation from one of the writer's letters from home under date of April 14.

“I thought to have finished mother's letter yesterday; but I was quite engaged most of the day, and in truth did not feel much like writing under the uncertain prospects in regard to your whereabouts, or if ever it would reach you. The uncertainty still remains; the conflicting accounts, even, make it apparent that you are in a dangerous position. But as we can do nothing but hope for the best, I shall continue as if this were sure of finding you a free United States troop somewhere.”

In looking over these old letters, a “pocket” of cuttings mostly from the “Transcript,” and relating to the siege, was “struck;” these the writer proposes to quote verbatim et literatim.

“New York 8th [April]. The ‘Post’ learns that on the 4th inst. General Foster was at Little Washington with a brigade, a regiment of North Carolina troops, and some other troops, and were virtually surrounded by rebels, who have erected batteries on Tar River, between Newberne and Little Washington, which the naval force of wooden gunboats are unable to pass.

“It was understood that a battle had taken place between Foster and the rebels, but nothing definite was known. Heavy firing was heard, lasting from Wednesday night to Friday night, evidently from the rebel batteries.





“Gen. Foster's means of defence are deemed ample, having a fort and entrenchments with sufficient ammunition and provisions.

“Large reinforcements are in transports below the batteries unable to reach Foster for want of some naval force competent to take them.

“The reported surrender of Gen. Foster is discredited. It is understood that he is confident of his ability to successfully withdraw his forces, even if compelled to relinquish the town and Pamlico River.”

“New York April 9. Passengers from Beaufort, N. C., state that on the 5th the rebel pickets on the Trent road were extended to a point nine miles from New Berne.

“Affairs at Little Washington looked threatening. Sunday evening the rebel Gen. Hill was opposing Gen. Foster's little band, and on Monday afternoon, rumor at New Berne said that Gen. Foster had surrendered. This is not credited, as it was believed that reinforcements from Suffolk Va., had reached Washington. Gen. Foster's position was strongly entrenched by rifle pits and ditches. Cannonading was heard at Newbern all day Sunday and Monday.

“The steam gunboat Chocura and State of Georgia were coaling at Morehead City to run the blockade of Pamlico River, where there was but one gunboat.”

“New York April 13th. The steamer Dudley Buck, from Newbern 9th, brings the report that it was expected Gen. Foster would have to surrender from want of provisions.”

“New York April 13th. A letter from Col. Sissell, [query, Sisson?] an officer under Gen. Foster, under date of the 9th inst., says the latter cannot hold out more than a day longer, being short of provisions and completely surrounded.”

“New York, April 13th. The gunboat Valley City, which passed the rebel batteries below Washington, N. C., to Gen. Foster's assistance, was struck by sixty-three shot. Her subsequent fate is not known.”

From other collections we glean the following. From the “New York Express:”—

“On the 20th ult., Gen. Foster with a portion of Spinola's and Prince's brigades comprising the Penn. Regts. of Cols. McKibbin, Dyer, Bear, the 12th N. Y., 157th N. Y. and 1st N. C. started for Little Washington on the junction of the Tar and Pamlico rivers, where they entrenched themselves. In the mean time the Rebels erected a very powerful battery on Scoon Pt., some 5 miles below Washington, which commands the channel, which at that point is very narrow and runs close in shore. . . .

“Gen. Magruder with 5000 rebels attacked Foster's position from the land side and thus completely surrounded him.”





From the “Journal,” April 2:—

“Gen. Foster ordered out Co. A, Capt. Richardson and Co. D, Capt. Sullivan, on a reconnoissance. They went out of the earthworks and while out their retreat was cut off. So Capt. R. ordered the men to cut their way through, which they did with considerable loss — some 16 killed and wounded. Among them was Capt. R. who was wounded and Orderly Edmands who was killed.”

A private letter from a member of the regiment dated April 7: “Report to-day is that our Colonel Lee was killed in a charge on the rear of the rebels’ battery.

“Ed. — The report in relation to Col. Lee we do not feel at liberty to withhold, although it is more than probable that it is entirely unfounded.”

“One letter from New Berne gives a rumor that 8 companies of the Mass. 44th at Little Washington had made a sally and captured quite a number of rebels.”

This will show the wild character of many of the reports which found their way to our friends at home; others were nearer the facts, but scarcely more encouraging. Many incidents of the siege were amusing enough. A comrade of Company D contributes the following:—

“During the siege of Little Washington, before the duties became so arduous that we were glad to obtain sleep even if in five-minute instalments, a quartette from Company D was one morning engaged in a quiet game of euchre just outside the company quarters. John Payne was sitting with his back to the shanty which had been erected as a shelter for the company, to avoid further trespassing on the kindness of the comrades of Company B, Twenty-seventh Massachusetts, who had been assigned quarters in the blockhouse. The boys had just gathered up their cards, and Payne was laughing over some joke, when a solid shot passed over Fort Washington, ploughed up the sand just in front of the quarters, almost buried the boys in the shower, and then plunged into the river. Payne's mouth was wide open, and he received more than his share of the sand. As soon as he could articulate he exclaimed, ‘I'm not hungry, Johnny; I've had my breakfast!”

One day during the siege Johnson, Bedell, and Tackney of Company E, thinking that we were deficient in artillery, cast about to supply the want so far as they could. Rummaging about, they found an old pair of wheels and some stove pipe, and having mounted the funnel on the wheels, ran it up toward the





works. Some of the Johnnies had evidently been watching the proceedings with a great deal of interest, for just as the boys had got their “piece” in position, puff went a gun at the Widow Blunt place, and a solid shot from the enemy struck uncomfortably close. The boys concluded that an attempt was being made to dismount their new gun, and feeling that enough had been done for honor, and that should the Rebels be successful no great damage would be done to our armament, they retired to the shelter of their bomb-proof.

One of our cavalry pickets, under cover of a flag of truce, entered into conversation with a Rebel officer, a lieutenant, who wished to know how large a force we had; the man told him, “Enough to take care of all the Rebels in North Carolina.” “I should think so,” was the reply, “for you are a d—d sight longer winded than any of us imagined.”

Our regimental band was one morning stationed in the fort, in a sheltered place, while the firing from Red Hill was going on, and played for some time, chiefly national airs; it was remarked that “Dixie” seemed to draw rather an extra warm acknowledgment from “our friends the enemy.” It has since been suggested that the object of this demonstration was to give the impression that a brigade was present.

It seems as if the enemy must have been deceived as to our numbers, for Garnett said, when ordered to assault upon the 14th of April, that he would “lose half his men getting there, and the other half getting back.” A story to the same effect reached the writer's ears not long after the siege. After the investment was raised, it is said Lieutenant “Teddy” O'Brien of the Third New York Cavalry was reconnoitring on the south side of the river with a small platoon of his company; upon turning a bend in the road he saw, not two hundred yards away, a squadron of Rebel cavalry coming towards him. Running away seemed risky, so he drew his sabre, and giving the order, “Battalion, charge!” rushed down upon them with his sabre in air, as if he really had a regiment at his back; they were entirely taken in by his “cheek,” and thinking it was the advance guard only of a heavy column, surrendered at once without resistance, and with their officers and colors fell captive to his bow and spear. When





the captain in command was brought into the town, upon looking about him he asked with great eagerness, “Where have you hidden all your men?”

Some comical incidents happened to the men under fire. The writer was one morning detailed to wield the shovel among a squad who were set to heighten the traverse. Being slight, and not mighty in throwing sand higher than his head, he with another was put on the top of the traverse to pat down and level
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what was thrown up to them; it being about the ordinary hour of our morning salutation from Red Hill, we kept a wary eye on the embrasures there. After a while came the long-looked-for puff of white smoke, and with a call of “Heads below!” the writer dropped his shovel in the traverse ditch, himself sliding down the slope of the work in its wake; as his feet reached the bottom, the shell screamed overhead, and all immediately sought shelter in the splinter-proof. The fire, as usual upon opening, was heavy and rapid; and just as we were comfortably settled down to await further developments, the captain, catching sight of one man without his weapon, immediately called to the writer, “Where's your gun and equipments?” “In my tent, sir.” (I had forgotten to bring them when I went to work.) “Go and





get them.” It might have been about thirty feet each way that this particular private of Company G had to go, exposed to the fire, and never did any one strive with more earnestness to make himself as small as possible. That journey took about a week, and if none of the shells hit, every joke from the rat-hole did, as those laughing boys sitting there in safety “guyed” their comrade who had to go out in the shower.

Corporal Powers and Private Brown of G one day got leave to go to the river to wash; they improved the opportunity to wash some of their clothes, waiting, while they dried, in rather primitive array; somehow or other they managed to draw the fire of one of the batteries on the opposite bank, and became the occasion of quite a little exchange of compliments, making themselves scarce in about as dignified a manner as the bathers at the well did when the Red Hill batteries opened on them.

This siege was, as has been said, our most important piece of service. What we did from day to day seemed then to us ordinary enough, and the idea of giving up the place without a fight entered into no head within the lines. Most of us, I think, were therefore rather surprised to find ourselves in a manner made heroes of on account of it. As I have heard it said by one of the garrison, “What would they have had us do?”

The service done by the Fifth Rhode Island, however, served to bind yet closer the ties of comradeship that held the two remaining regiments of Stevenson's Brigade together, as will appear from the following correspondence:—

Camp Thomas G. Stevenson, New Berne, 1863.

Colonel Henry T. Sisson, Commanding 5th R. I.

Colonel, — At a meeting of the field, staff, and line officers, held at Washington, N. C., on Tuesday evening April 21, Col. F. L. Lee presiding, the following resolutions were unanimously adopted:—

Whereas, During the late siege of Washington, N. C., when the town had been bombarded and all its communications cut off for fifteen days, after several ineffectual attempts had been made to relieve the garrison, and the enterprise had been virtually pronounced impracticable, Colonel Sisson volunteered the services of his regiment, and succeeded, against every obstable and discouragement, in running the blockade with the steamer “Escort,” thus bringing to the besieged forces the much-needed reinforcements, ammunitions, and supplies.





Resolved, That in this achievement Colonel Sisson with his brave regiment has performed one of the most heroic acts of the war, and that this act, by so disheartening the enemy that within two days he was led to retire, was the immediate cause of the raising of the siege.

Resolved, That the members of the Forty-fourth Massachusetts feel that thanks are peculiarly due from them to their comrades in arms who so generously volunteered their services and met so great risks in carrying succor to a brother regiment.

Resolved, That as an expression of their gratitude and admiration, if it meet the wishes of the Fifth Rhode Island Regiment, a set of colors be presented to them, bearing a device commemorative of this act of gallantry.

To which a reply was returned as follows:—

Camp Anthony, New Berne, April 28, 1863.

Colonel, — I take great pleasure in acknowledging to you and the officers of your command my sense of the high honor which you have done us in the very complimentary resolutions which I have just received.

Be assured, Colonel, they are the more acceptable as coming from a body of men whose character and good opinion we respect so highly as the regiment you have the honor to command. Your generous action will tend not only to cement more closely our two brother regiments, but also the sister States from which we came, already closely united by a common history, and by struggles and dangers in defence of our country.

May we be more closely knit together in peace and union under the flag which both Massachusetts and Rhode Island have done so much to uphold.

Accept, sir, the thanks of the Fifth Rhode Island for your kind sentiments, and believe me, With respect, very truly yours, H. T. Sisson,Colonel Commanding Fifth Rhode Island Volunteers.





CHAPTER X. PICKET-DUTY OF B AND F.

MONDAY, March 2, 1863, Companies B and F, under the command of Captain Storrow of Company F, were taken three miles up the railroad, upon open cars, and relieved two companies of the Fifty-first Massachusetts on picket. On the 6th the battalion marched three miles farther out, and went into camp in the pine woods near Batchelder's Creek, along which the outer pickets of New Berne were posted.

Former occupants of the post had nearly finished eight log huts in the thick woods. These were not utilized as quarters for the battalion, but around them, as a centre, smaller huts were constructed, roofed in by shelter-tents, littered with straw, warmed by brick fireplaces, and rendered homelike by conveniences and ornaments which the ingenuity and good taste of the rank and file improvised. These occupied three sides, while the wall tents of the officers filled the fourth side. The trees, stumps, and “pine-trash” were removed from the enclosure, leaving a firm, even camp-ground, — fortunately insoluble in rain-water, and never muddy. In the centre of the camp was erected a double-masted flag-pole, topped with a weather-vane, and bearing on its cross-trees the legend, “Camp Lee, occupied March 6, 1863.”

The two companies remained in this camp for two months, enjoying the brightest and pleasantest part of a soldier's life. There was a good deal of night work, but not enough to wear





the men out. The open-air life in the pine woods was so invigorating that there was very little sickness in the detachment. There was enough of excitement — a sufficient consciousness of the proximity of the enemy — to give a zest to the routine of duty. The detachment which occupied the post before and after the Forty-fourth, met with serious losses, but during our occupation not a man of our detachment was injured or captured. It was a long military picnic. The season of the year was a delightful one. As the spring advanced, violets, anemones, honey-suckle, and the fragrant jessamine blossomed thickly along the lanes and roads. Birds of gorgeous plumage — bright orange or brilliant scarlet — chattered among the young leaves. The woods were full of rabbits, ’possums, and ’coons (which the men were successful in trapping), with traces now and then of a prowling fox. The creek was full of fish, — herring, horn-pout, “Welshmen,” and robin or red-fin (bream), for which we angled with hooks baited with worms or soaked hard-tack. A net was found during one of our scouting expeditions, and was strung across the creek near the lower picket-post, who took from its meshes every morning a finny breakfast. With this plenitude of game came a disagreeable accompaniment in the profusion of snakes, — black snakes four or five feet long, moccasins as large as a child's arm, and “copperheads even more venomous than their namesakes in the North.”

The chief duty to be performed was the picketing of the line of Batchelder's Creek. There was one picket of two “non-coms” and twelve men at the burned bridge on the right (Washington) road, and another of three “non-coms” and twenty men two miles to the south, at the left (or Neuse) road, where the piles and stringers of the bridge were standing and planks were ready to lay if an advance was desired. There were other posts on the flanks and rear of our camp, and at night a patrol was maintained around the camp and down a cart-path that led to the wooded banks of the creek. These details were quite as much as two companies could perform, and brought each man on duty about every other day.

Another (and favorite) duty was the scouting by land and water. When the companies first occupied the picket-posts,





there were no boats of any kind to be found. A vigorous search was instituted along the banks of the creek, toward the river, and several canoes and flat-boats were found concealed in the dense cane-brakes. These were brought to the Washington road and repaired, and every few days a scouting party was sent down the creek and up the river on a reconnoissance. The “Rebs” were rarely seen; and the principal result of these expeditions was the collection of a number of useful articles of camp equipage from the deserted huts and houses along the creek.


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The scouting by land was constantly followed, usually in small parties. Fortunately, the “Rebs” kept beyond Core Creek and the Neuse River most of the time, and our scouting parties met no mischances. Their most exciting adventure is thus narrated in a letter:—

“Colonel Jones having directed Captain Storrow to ascertain whether the Rebels sent out boat patrols at night from Street's Ferry, an officer and two men were despatched at 9 P. M. to scout on the Washington road. Crossing Batchelder's Creek in a canoe, and leaving behind them our advanced picket-posts, they advanced cautiously along the road about three miles, when they came to the point where it enters the swamp along the Neuse River. A strong wind during the day had blown the water to our side of the river and filled the swamp so full that even the road was submerged. The wind had subsided, leaving the water so smooth and the woods so quiet that the slightest sound could be heard a mile away. The Rebel pickets were posted just at the other side of the ferry, and their voices could be plainly heard as they chatted around their camp-fire. In order to observe their motions it was necessary to get to the river bank. The first step of the scouting party into the water which covered the road attracted their attention, but with the remark, ‘It's only cattle in the swamp,’ they continued their conversation. Moving, therefore, with extreme caution, — noiselessly pushing one foot after the other without lifting it from the water, the scouts waded over a quarter of a mile of submerged road. At the bank of the river they halted, with the Rebel picket-fire in





full sight a short distance down stream, opposite the ferry-landing. No dry spot was to be found, so the three shivering men lay down in shallow water among the bushes and waited for dénouements. The situation was impressive. The smooth river gleamed dimly between the dark and swampy opposite shore and the dense shadows of the cypresses under which they lay. The stillness of midnight was only broken by the sounds peculiar to the region, — which had grown familiar from many nights of picket duty on Batchelder's Creek, — the tinkling ‘chug’ of the young frogs, the trill of the tree-toads, the screech of the owl, the occasional scream of a wildcat, or the frightful yell of the Carolina ’coon.

“Thus they lay quietly in three or four inches of water for four hours. Suddenly, at three in the morning, they were roused by a stir on the other side. A fog had gathered over the river, but a red gleam shining through it showed that the picket-fire had been replenished, and the sound of many voices told that the Rebel picket had been reinforced. The voices approached the farther ferry-landing, there was a sound of launching a boat, of embarkation, of dipping oars, and for an anxious moment it appeared certain that the Rebels were crossing the river to land on our side. To have retreated through water knee-deep would only have been to attract a volley, so that there was nothing to do but to lie in ambush and wait. Fortunately, the boat turned down the river and was soon out of hearing. Noiselessly and thankfully the little party waded to dry land, and returned to camp to report that the Rebels did send out a boat patrol. The object of the expedition had been accomplished.”

Except these scouting parties, there was not much to vary the monotony of camp life and picket-duty. The day of our arrival, a lieutenant and thirty men were ordered in great haste to occupy the camp of the Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania, at the railroad bridge over Batchelder's Creek, two miles beyond the Neuse road, while that regiment marched out to surprise the Rebel pickets at Core Creek. The Fifty-eighth had spent their eighteen months of service almost entirely on picket. Their commander, Colonel Jones, was a little old man, whose careless and unsoldierly appearance belied his character, for he was cool, brave, prompt, alert, and fertile in resources. His men idolized him, and followed him into danger with implicit confidence. Shortly after we were withdrawn to New Berne he was shot and instantly killed during an attack on the picket-post on the Neuse road. The only noteworthy thing at the camp of the Fifty-eighth was the “Railroad Monitor,” — an iron-plated gunboat on wheels, mounted with two six-pound Wiard pivot-guns, and kept always





in readiness to run up or down the railroad wherever it might be needed.

On Saturday, March 14th (the anniversary of the capture of New Berne), we were startled at daybreak by heavy firing in the direction of the town. While we were wondering what it meant, an orderly dashed into camp with the news that New Berne had
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been attacked from the other side of the river, and was threatened on our side, and that we were ordered to move our whole force to the bridge on the Neuse road. Forming hastily, we double-quicked across country by the plantation road which our picket reliefs usually followed, and on arriving at the bridge were ordered to tear up its planks, and to construct breastworks to command the approaches. The day and night were spent in felling trees and in digging trenches. A letter thus describes the scene at night:—

“Under the serene starlight, and a faint glimmer from the old moon, just rising, Batchelder's Creek lay tranquil in the deep shade of its fringe of trees. The clay of the road-bed gleamed white along the bank. The





skeleton framework of the dismantled bridge; the pier, barricaded with logs, on which stood four motionless sentinels with guns in the hollow of their arms; the rifle-pits where half the men lay uneasily on the damp earth, while the muffled sound of pick and spade, the occasional gleam of a dark-lantern, and the subdued orders of the officers, showed that the other half were busily at work; the knowledge that the Rebels were in force only three miles away; the expectation of an immediate attack, — these things made the night memorable.”

But, after all, the enemy withdrew without further demonstration, and on Sunday morning the battalion returned to camp, only too glad of a chance to rest.

Before leaving the bridge, a letter was received from Colonel Jones and read to the detachment, thanking them for the zeal and energy displayed.

After this threat of attack the Rebels were more audacious, and frequently stole down on our lines and tried to catch the pickets napping. Wednesday, March 25, a sergeant of the Third New York Cavalry, while on outpost duty a quarter of a mile from our post at the bridge on the Neuse road, was surprised, captured, and carried off. Captain Storrow, who happened to be at the bridge, started at once with twenty men in pursuit, and a party was ordered out from camp to a fork of the roads near the ferry, in the hope of intercepting the “Rebs” there; but they had too good a start, and got away safely with their prisoner.

During the next two weeks we heard frequent heavy firing from the direction of “Little” Washington, and felt anxious for the safety of the other eight companies of our regiment.

Monday, April 27, General Palmer started with two brigades on the “Gum Swamp expedition.” Company F received orders, just at dusk, to march with overcoats, rubber blankets, and such scant rations as could be scraped together. Joining the Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania at the Neuse bridge, they were given the place of an absent company as eighth in the regimental line. One brigade of Palmer's force, including the Forty-fifth Massachusetts, advanced by the railroad; while the other brigade, consisting of the Fifth and Twenty-seventh Massachusetts, two companies of the Forty-sixth Massachusetts, the Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania, Company F of the Forty-fourth, and two pieces





of artillery, started up the Neuse road at half-past seven. The weather was disagreeably close and muggy, and a hard rain set in, so that we were glad to halt and bivouac ten miles out, near Core Creek, the enemy's picket line. At noon the next day the Twenty-seventh Massachusetts and Fifty-eighth Pennsylvania marched on, with nothing but arms and equipments, taking the left fork, or Dover road, through the Dover (or Gum) Swamp. After wading many miles through water ankle-deep, we came to Sandy Ridge, where a small earthwork, the remains of a burnt camp, and the carcasses of dead horses marked the place where Colonel Jones had surprised the “Rebs” two months before. Striking the swamp again, we marched on with increasing difficulty till firing was heard at the head of the column, and we learned that a Rebel regiment, marching down our road to flank the Forty-fifth Massachusetts, which was advancing on the railroad, had been surprised to meet the Twenty-seventh Massachusetts, and were retiring in disorder. We were double-quicked in the direction of the firing, which was growing hotter. Several companies of the Fifty-eighth were sent forward, and we were eagerly awaiting our turn; but a combined charge on the Dover road and the railroad drove the “Rebs” from their rifle-pits and ended the skirmish. This was about sundown, and was followed by a retrograde movement. It had rained hard all day, and the road was in a miserable condition. The logs with which it had been “corduroyed” through the swamp were all afloat. The swamp was one vast lake, and it is not exaggeration to say that we marched through one puddle four miles long. Reeking above the knees with perspiration and below them with swamp water, our feet clogged with sand, and stumbling among the floating logs, the men of our detachment, exhausted by continuous night duty on picket, struggled and staggered along through the darkness and rain. Occasionally a man would fall out of the ranks, but his gun would be taken by some friend, and he would be supported and led on between hardier comrades. For the last few miles most of us felt at each step as if no power on earth could move us an inch farther. Our legs seemed powerless. We were dazed and almost unconscious, as if we had been drugged. Those who have stood similar trials know how desperately





a man clings to his determination to hold out; how he mechanically counts his steps, or the trees as he passes them; how he clenches his teeth and sings monotonously to himself; how he fixes his eye on the cartridge-box plate of the man in front, and tries to shut out every idea except that he must keep that in sight. Finally we reached camp thoroughly and absolutely worn out.

The official reports of this expedition all refer to the weather and the difficulties of marching. Colonel Jones says: “The road runs principally through swamps, with an occasional oasis of dry ground, and, being chiefly covered with water or very wet mud, is heavy and difficult.” General Palmer reports: “At midnight it commenced to rain very heavily, and continued until noon of Tuesday, the 28th instant. At the conclusion of the storm the whole country seemed flooded; the roads were in a horrible condition.” And in a despatch to New Berne, dated the morning of April 28, General Palmer states that “The whole country is under water. One shower succeeds another very quickly, and we are waiting patiently for a lull in the storm.” To this despatch he adds a postscript which will touch the hearts of all old soldiers who read it, and recall similar circumstances: “Unofficial P. S. A ration of whiskey ought to be sent for the men if provisions are sent.”

This was the last notable event of picket service. On Saturday, May 2, two companies of the Forty-sixth Massachusetts straggled into our camp, in shirt-sleeves and straw hats, to relieve us, and in the afternoon we bade adieu to “Camp Lee,” and returned to our barracks at New Berne. The flag which had flown from the flag-staff was inscribed “Gum Swamp,” and to this day graces the annual reunions of Company F.





CHAPTER XI. PROVOST DUTY, VOYAGE HOME, AND MUSTER OUT.

IN one of our popular operas the chorus sings with much gusto, and in a manner that leads one to think it does not believe in the sentiment,—“The policeman's life is not a happy one.” Every member of the Massachusetts Forty-fourth in May and June, 1863, would have unhesitatingly indorsed the opinion expressed by the operatic author.

In the spring of that year several of the Boston newspapers gravely announced that the Forty-fourth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers was doing police duty in New Berne. Those who have served in the army will readily appreciate the feeling of indignation and disgust which this statement created among the men of that regiment. This will be easily understood by others, when it is explained that “police duty” in the army is synonymous with “scavenger duty” in civil life; “policing a camp” not meaning the maintenance of good order and strict discipline, as civilians would naturally suppose, but including such disagreeable and miscellaneous duties as sweeping the grounds, emptying swill, carrying water, etc. The error was, however, a very natural one, and was founded on the following order:—

Headquarters Department North Carolina, April 23, 1863. Special Order No. 117.

In accordance with the custom of the department, the regiment now doing provost duty will be relieved.





The commanding general, on changing the guard of the town, desires to convey to Colonel Codman, and through him to his officers and men, his high appreciation of the manner in which the duties of the guard have been performed; and he has noticed with great pleasure the drill, discipline, and general efficiency of the regiment.

The Forty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia will relieve the Forty-fifth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia on Saturday, 25th inst., at 9 A. M.

By command,

John G. Foster,

Major-General Commanding Department.

Southard Hoffman, A. A. G.

On returning from Washington we had all hoped we should go directly to our old barracks; but finding these in possession of the Ninth New Jersey, we were temporarily assigned to those formerly used by the Tenth Connecticut, very near the ones we had previously occupied, only a short distance farther from the Neuse River. The few days that intervened before we assumed our new duties were spent by the men in recovering from the fatigue of the siege of Washington, in letter-writing, mending clothes, etc.

Early on Saturday morning the regiment, in full-dress uniform, equipped in heavy marching order, was formed in line and proceeded to the city, where it relieved the Forty-fifth. After the usual exchange of salutes, the guard for the day, which had been detailed before we left camp, relieved the sentries of the Forty-fifth, and then the rest of the regiment proceeded by companies to the quarters in the town to which they had been respectively assigned. They were the same occupied by the different regiments which had done provost duty previous to our turn. Each company had one or more houses allotted to its use, and among them were some of the pleasantest residences in the city. The Forty-fifth had left them in good condition, decorated them prettily, and many little tokens of welcome greeted our arrival. It was a debatable question among our boys—one which we believe was never satisfactorily settled—whether it was more enjoyable to be quartered in a large room with from ten to fifteen companions, or in a small one with from three to five.

The change from camp life was pleasant in the beginning, but it soon became very monotonous. There was a freedom in the





former, where we were allowed to appear in undress uniform,—a uniform which at times was decidedly undress,—and do about as we pleased when off duty, compared with the constraint we felt when it was found to be an unpardonable offence to appear on the street except in full-dress suit, with boots nicely polished, belts blackened, and brasses brightened. Provost duty, unlike the usual camp duty of “two hours on and four hours off,” was “four hours on and eight hours off.” It was an advantage to those who were fortunate enough to be on between 8 and 12 P. M., as they could enjoy uninterrupted sleep till 8 A. M. the following day; but four hours seemed a long time to the poor sentry pacing his beat, and many of the boys would gladly have changed to the old hours.

The duties of a provost guard are—to preserve order in the town; see that no enlisted man passes unless provided with a written permission suitably signed, indorsed, and dated; prevent fast riding or driving through the streets; act as guards at the railway station and the wharves; and to do anything and everything required of them of a similar nature. Most of the boys thought the principal duty of a sentry was to salute commissioned officers; and it is conceded by all who have ever stood four hours on a post that this work consumed no small part of the time.

For a few days the novelty was pleasing. There was a great deal of excitement compared with the routine of a strictly camp life. Soldiers are in some respects veritable children, and they hailed the promise of a furlough for a day in town with as much pleasure as would a small schoolboy that of a day's holiday. It was quite a common occurrence when some member of another regiment visiting the town was stopped by a sentry for examination, to have the latter, after reading the name on the pass, and finding it to be familiar, glance up, and recognizing the bearer, remark, “Why, Tom, when did you come to New Berne? Bill and George and Charley are all in our company, and we are quartered in Craven Street. Go down and see the boys. I shall be off duty to-morrow, and will try and get over to your camp.” Such meetings were happening continually, and none but those who have shared in them can realize the pleasure they bring.





It was not long before the novelty wore off, and then provost duty became drudgery. As the town covered quite an area, it was divided into three guard districts, and details were assigned to the first, second, or third, as the case might be. No record has been found showing the exact number of sentries required in each district. Corporal Fitz of Company C had a plan of New Berne on which the number of each post was marked, but
[Illustration:


]

unfortunately it has been lost or destroyed since his return. As nearly as can be remembered, there were about fifty posts in the first, from twenty-five to thirty in the second, and the same number in the third district, making about one hundred posts in all. There being three reliefs, a detail of 300 men, exclusive of commissioned and non-commissioned officers, would be required daily, or a total detail of about 325 men. The nominal strength of the regiment was at that time about 900; but so many had been permanently or temporarily detailed, and there always being a percentage in hospital or excused by the surgeon, the effective





strength was probably less than 650, obliging the privates to go on duty at least every other day, and sometimes two days in succession. Commissioned and non-commissioned officers fared somewhat better, but they even were called upon much oftener than they wished.1 The demand being so severe, drilling was to a great extent discontinued, and the men excused from everything but policing quarters and the daily dress parade.

May 2, Companies B and F, which had been on picket duty at Batchelder's Creek while the regiment was at “Little” Washington, rejoined us at New Berne. This made the work somewhat easier for the others.

The instructions issued for provost duty laid a great deal of stress on the importance and proper manner of saluting commissioned officers. Sentries were required to carry their muskets at “shoulder” or “support;” but after dark, when they began to challenge, were permitted to carry them at “right shoulder shift.” It is needless to say that these instructions were implicitly followed—whenever the sentry thought that he might be observed by a commissioned officer, or by a non-commissioned officer on duty. They may have done so at other times; but for the credit of the regiment it might be well not to investigate too closely.


[Illustration:


]

So far as the commissioned officers were concerned, the change was undoubtedly agreeable. In camp, drills and other duties

[note]



demanded a great deal of their attention; while now, except when acting as officer of the day or officer of the guard, they had comparatively little to occupy their time. At any large military post there is always a great deal of social gayety, and our officers undoubtedly enjoyed the opportunities offered to their fullest extent.

The weather during May and June was very warm, and to those who had never been South before, the flies were an intolerable nuisance. “Corporal,” in writing to the Boston “Herald,” devotes a full paragraph to these pests:—

“The fly-statistics of your Port Royal correspondent must not lead your readers to suppose that the Department of the South enjoys a monopoly of this interesting insect. I allude to common house-flies. Fleas and mosquitoes do not greatly abound at New Berne, but house-flies swarm like the locusts of Egypt. The wood-ticks of Hill's Point, which adhered to the cuticle with a death-grasp, deserved a paragraph, but the house-flies of New Berne are even a greater nuisance. The printers will not fail to notice the peculiar manner in which they have punctuated this sheet of manuscript. Their tracks are visible upon every object which they can touch, — upon our plates, dippers, knives, forks, bread. They attack us with desperation at meal-times, and if we have anything better than usual they are sure to find it out, and rally upon the sweet point, so that while we convey the food to our mouth with one hand, we are forced to fight flies with the other. ‘Tempus fugit,’ commences a letter of your New Berne correspondent ‘Tiger.’ ‘Fly-time — very appropriate,’ parenthetically remarked the free translator Frederick, as he read, and described curves in the air.”

May 24, Company F, Captain Storrow, was detailed to accompany a lot of Rebel prisoners to Fortress Monroe. This was an agreeable duty to the men of that company, and a very pleasant break in the monotony of their daily routine.

During our residence in the city quite a small-pox epidemic broke out among the negroes, and among the pleasant duties assigned to our regiment was that of searching for those afflicted with that disease and superintending their removal to the small-pox hospital, which was situated just outside the city limits. The negroes evinced great repugnance to being sent to it, and frequently had to be removed by force. So far as is known, none of the boys caught the disease.





There were two jails in town, one used mainly as a place of safe-keeping for Rebel prisoners, the other for the detention of those, soldiers or civilians, who needed such a place of confinement. We had to furnish guards for these, in addition to our regular street patrol.

There was a marked difference in the discipline in various regiments, being so slack in some as to be scarcely worthy of that name. The guard-house at Station One was a very large building, to which was attached an ell containing a single room capable of holding a great many men. It was in this room that were confined soldiers who had been found in town without proper permission, who had been indulging too freely in “commissary,” and who were punished for the infraction of some of the minor rules of the department. One day an officer wearing the uniform of a colonel approached the non-commissioned officer on duty at this guard-house and asked if he could tell where any of his regiment were. “What regiment do you command?” inquired the “non-com.” “The —th New York,” was the answer. “Yes, sir,” the “non-com.” replied. “Where are they?” interrogated the colonel. “A few of them are in the guard-house.” “May I see them?” “Certainly, sir,” was the answer; and leading the colonel towards the ell in the rear, allowed him the opportunity of looking through the door. The room was crowded almost to the point of suffocation, and among its inmates were very few that did not belong to the —th New York, commanded by the anxious colonel. As soon as he was recognized by those in confinement there was a general cry, “Hullo, colonel, let us out! We want to go back to camp.” The colonel considered a minute. “On the whole, boys, I think you will do very well where you are for to-night. I have just come from camp, and the major, one lieutenant, and five privates are all there are within its limits. I want to go off to-night myself; so I think I will go back and furlough these, and then I shall have no one to look after until you are released at guard mounting to-morrow morning. Good-by;” and off he went. The boys passed the night in the guard-house, but the little sleep that any of them succeeded in getting was not very sound.





Shortly after our return to New Berne, Corporal Lawrence of Company C created quite a sensation by marrying a resident of that town. Those who were fortunate enough to receive “cards” were objects of envy to their less favored comrades. Mrs. Lawrence, since her husband's death, has resided in Boston with Corporal Lawrence's father.

One advantage we had while on duty in town was the privilege of buying fresh eggs, vegetables, etc., from boats which used to come in from the country just outside of the lines. Under what regulations the trade was allowed we never discovered, but some one person in each boat was provided with a duly authorized permit. No sales were allowed until the officer in charge had made his appearance, and then to no one except commissioned officers or their servants. After these had carefully selected such portions of the cargoes as they wished, certain civilians were allowed to make their purchases, and when they were satisfied, if anything was left, private soldiers were at liberty to buy. It was a singular fact, however, that it almost invariably happened some of the choicer articles had been accidentally mislaid or covered up, and the fact was not discovered until the sentries on the wharf began trading, when they would suddenly be found; but it was just as singular that the discovery was never made while a commissioned officer was in sight. On the whole, the boys fared very well.

During the time we were in town an attempt was made to reproduce “Il Recruitio,” with an additional act descriptive of our adventures in Washington. The lines were all written and the parts assigned; but the arduous duty of provost prevented us from giving much time to preparation, and the design was finally relinquished.

Our band seemed to be thoroughly appreciated by our general and staff officers. Daily at guard mounting and dress parade it made its appearance with the regiment, but at other times it was fully occupied at some of the various headquarters in the town. The players probably enjoyed it, although they were not always allowed to retire at taps. William F. Ingraham, who was the first leader, died in January, and in May his brother, A. W. Ingraham, a noted bugle-player, came out to go home with us. On May 19





an order was issued defining the duties of those sharing the management of the band. Babcock was to direct rehearsals, arrange programmes, conduct the band on all parades, etc., and select the music. Ingraham was to perform the duties of leader, and fix the hours and length of practice. Corporal Hovey was to act as business manager. In the concluding paragraph of this order the colonel complimented the band highly, and expressed the hope that it would do credit to itself and the regiment when it reached Boston. We are glad to say that this hope was realized. Late in the winter and early in the spring of 1863 Mr. P. S. Gilmore had given a series of concerts for the benefit of the Massachusetts regiments in the Department of North Carolina. Among the list of subscribers were some of the most influential and best-known merchants of Boston. The different military associations, such as the New England Guards Association, Tigers, Cadets, and Lancers, took a warm interest in the success of the enterprise. Hallett & Cumston contributed a grand piano, which yielded the handsome sum of $1,691. The total receipts were $5,772.65; and on May 18 an order was read at dress parade thanking Mr. Gilmore, and acknowledging the receipt of $500, — our share of the net proceeds.

As the term of our enlistment drew near its close, the boys began to count the remaining days as anxiously as do boys of a younger age the hours before vacation begins. Many were the rumors rife in barracks; and no matter how improbable one might be, there were always some who believed it. At last the following welcome order was read on dress parade:—

Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps, New Berne, N. C., June 4, 1863.

Special Order No. 159.

2. It is hereby ordered that the Forty-fourth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteer Militia be relieved by the Twenty-seventh Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, as provost guard of this town, on Saturday morning next, June 6, at 6 o'clock.

By command of

Major-General John G. Foster.

S. Hoffman, A. A. G.

Headquarters Second Brigade.

[Official.]

E. C. Johnson, Adjutant.





Although we did not regret that the term of service was so near its close, there had been, after all, a great many pleasant circumstances connected with our enlistment, and we had actually enjoyed this brief service in the employment of Uncle Sam. We had a great many friends in the other regiments, and a large part of our leisure during the days that intervened between the reading of this order and our departure was spent in bidding good-by to these acquaintances.

The night before our departure General Foster gave a reception to the officers of our regiment. As the writer of this chapter was not fortunate enough to hold a commission, he cannot speak from personal knowledge of the proceedings, but he is assured by all who attended that they had a most delightful time. The rank and file were also determined to enjoy themselves, and various were the schemes adopted by the boys. Although as a general rule but very little “commissary” was to be found in our camp, that night was an exception, and there were not many, except those who were consistent total-abstainers, who did not drink at least one toast to the friends they were to leave behind and to a safe passage home. Notwithstanding this, there was no unseemly conduct, so far as known, on the part of any of the men. They were simply enthusiastically jolly. One of the boys, feeling his clothing too oppressive, and having no fear of being called upon to receive visitors, appeared in his quarters in a state of nature, but fully equipped with belt, cartridge-box, and knapsack, carrying a piece of old stove-pipe on his shoulder. While engaged in this amusement his captain suddenly came on the scene, and with a good deal of indignation in voice and manner, inquired what he meant by appearing in such a condition. “I am a heavy artillery-man in light marching order,” was the ready reply. The captain quietly remarked that he was unaware that the man had been transferred from the infantry, and advised him to return to his own room and resume the regulation uniform. It is needless to add that the captain's advice was promptly followed.

An excellent locality on Broad Street was assigned for our dress parades, and the last one held by us in New Berne we think would have done credit to any regiment in the service.





Each man tried to do his best. At this parade the following order was read:—

Headquarters Eighteenth Army Corps, New Berne, N. C., June 5, 1863.

Special Order No. 160.

17. The commanding general, on bidding farewell to the Forty-fourth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteer Militia, conveys to them his high appreciation of and thanks for their services while in this department.

As a part of the garrison of Washington, and in the various duties to which they have been assigned, they have always done their duty as soldiers.

The commanding general, in parting, expresses his hopes to officers and men that he may have the pleasure of welcoming their return here, and tenders them, one and all, his best and kindest wishes for their future.

By command of

Major-General J. G. Foster.

S. Hoffman, A. A. G.

General Wessells, an old regular army officer, and a strict disciplinarian, to whose division we had been assigned, also took occasion to issue the following:—

Headquarters Fourth Division, Eighteenth Army Corps, Plymouth, N. C., June 10, 1863.

General Order No. 7.

III. Having learned that the Forty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia is about to leave the department, its term of service being fulfilled, the brigadier-general commanding the division cannot allow the occasion to pass without expressing his sincere regret at thus losing one of its brightest ornaments.

The gentlemanly deportment and soldierly bearing of all grades have rendered his intercourse with the regiment, both socially and officially, peculiarly agreeable; and in changing the rough duties of camp for the peaceful pursuits of civil life, the commanding general desires them a safe return to the green hills of New England, with his best wishes for their future happiness and prosperity.

By command of

Brigadier-General H. W. Wessells.

Andrew Stewart, A. A. G.

Headquarters Forty-fourth Regiment, June 18, 1863.

[Official.]

E. C. Johnson, Lieutenant and Adjutant Forty-fourth M. V. M.

We landed at New Berne in a rain-storm and we left there in a rain-storm, although the last was not as heavy as the first.





Early on the morning of June 5 our regimental line was formed for the last time in North Carolina; and, escorted by the Third Massachusetts, Colonel Richmond, one of the regiments which accompanied us to that State, we took our line of march for the depot. There we embarked on platform cars and started for Morehead City. Colonel Holbrook of the Forty-third had intended to have his regiment form part of our escort, but the shower interfered with the programme. Soon after starting, the rain ceased and we had a very pleasant trip to Morehead City. By noon the regiment was on board of the steamers and ready to proceed on its homeward way. The right wing, Companies A, G, H, K, and E, were on the “Guide,” accompanied by the colonel, lieutenant-colonel, major, the regimental band, the surgeon, and the sick. Colonel Sisson and other officers of the Fifth Rhode Island took passage on this steamer. The left wing was on the “George Peabody,” and included Companies F, B, D, C, and I, under command of Captain Storrow. Quite a number of men from other regiments, who had been granted veteran furloughs on account of re-enlistment, were on this steamer. The passage was very pleasant, although on the first night out we had a heavy wind and sea. There was the usual amount of seasickness; but the sufferers invariably called it by some other name, and were very indignant if accused of succumbing to “Father Neptune's curse.” As Mark Twain afterwards graphically described it, they had the “Oh, my!” badly. During the 9th of June we ran along the eastern shore of Cape Cod, and just before sunset dropped anchor in Boston Harbor. In passing Fort Warren the entire garrison turned out, the band at the Fort played “Home, Sweet Home,” and we continued to exchange cheers while within hearing of each other. It was a beautiful evening, and how glad we were to reach dear old Boston, all our boys can bear witness. The dome of the State House loomed up in the evening light, and the sound of the nine-o'clock bells which reached us, mellowed by the distance, gave a home feeling that none of our men had known for nine long months. The “Guide” had not arrived, so we remained at anchor off Fort Independence till morning.

Just before dark a tug came down from the city and hauled





alongside the “George Peabody.” Perhaps our officers can say what news its passengers brought; but the “being in command,” who wore the shoulder-straps of a brigadier-general, evidently considered privates beneath his notice. As might have been expected, the ubiquitous representative of the press was on board and made “Corporal” the recipient of a bottle of choice whiskey. Another corporal, as chief of his squad, had the custody of several lemons; and so the two corporals combined forces and the result was a toothsome compound, in which several of us drank the health of “dear old Boston,” and then retired to the softest spots we could find, “Corporal” stretching himself on a huge chest, about amidships on the main deck, and the others bunking within supporting distance.

As soon as it was known that we were homeward bound, it was proposed by the Reserve of the New England Guard and others of our friends to give the regiment a reception. A meeting was called to make the necessary arrangements, and after some discussion, the date of our arrival being uncertain, it adjourned subject to the call of the committee.1 When the “George Peabody” was reported in the harbor, all who were to participate were notified as rapidly as possible. The “Guide” arrived during the night and steamed directly up to Central Wharf, where the men immediately disembarked. The “George Peabody” followed as soon as possible. Before we had made fast, Captain Jake Lombard of Company C, who had resigned from ill health, and Charley Ewer of Company D, who had been discharged in con sequence of severe wounds received at Whitehall, came on board of the vessel, and we were as glad to meet them as they were to meet us. On the wharf were many of the friends we had left behind nine months before, and pleasant the greetings and many the questions asked and answered. Messrs. Whall and Dyer, who had sons in Company E, and who probably had been informed from some source that almost any change of diet from that of “salt horse and hard-tack” would be agreeable, furnished a nice collation, which it is needless to say the boys appreciated. Some

[note]



received brief furloughs; and one squad, on invitation of the father of Corporal Gardner of Company D, who felt as keen and warm an interest in the regiment as if all the members had been his children, partook of a sumptuous breakfast at Parker's.

Our escort reached the wharf shortly after 10 A. M. Major J. Putnam Bradlee was in command. The New England Guard Reserve turned out with 93 guns; the Massachusetts Rifle Club, Captain Moore, 114 guns; the Battalion of National Guards, Major C. W. Stevens, 102 guns; and the Roxbury Reserve Guard, Captain Wyman, 80 guns. Gilmore's and the Brigade bands furnished music. Our regiment fell in and formed promptly, the usual salutes were exchanged, and in charge of our escort we started for Boston Common. The number of spectators on State Street was immense; we had intended to march up that street company front, but the crowd was so dense that we had to form by column of platoons, and even then, in spite of the efforts of the guides, it was impossible to keep a perfect alignment. The right guide of the second platoon of Company D we know had actually to fight his way through, and probably most of the other guides had a similar experience. Old Dan Simpson and Si Smith, the veteran drummer and fifer of the Guards, marched at the head of column, and our band received many encomiums from the spectators.

On reaching the Common, the regiment wheeled by company into line, the right resting on the Beacon Street Mall, when Mayor Lincoln, accompanied by Colonel Kurtz, Chief of Police,1 chairman of the committee of arrangements, took position in front, and in behalf of the city of Boston welcomed the regiment home. In concluding his remarks he returned thanks to Colonel Sisson and the Fifth Rhode Island for their gallant action in running the blockade at Washington. Colonel Lee responded, the regiment wheeled into column of companies, stacked arms, and broke ranks. During the speaking the boys had been wistfully eying their “sisters and their cousins and their aunts,” as well as many others of the gentler sex who were not related by such ties of consanguinity; although some of them frankly acknowledged afterward that their thoughts had been directed to a row of ten tables — one

[note]



opposite each company — in the rear of the ladies. As soon as the order to break ranks was given the greetings indulged in on the wharf were repeated on a larger and more demonstrative scale. We were the “heroes of the day,” and probably there was not a member of the regiment who did not enjoy the distinction. It is said that the collation was choice and bountiful, — it must have been, as it was provided by J. B. Smith, — but the writer has thus far been unable to find even one man who could speak from experience. Each acknowledges that he got a mouthful or so, but claims that he was so busy in shaking hands with this one, answering earnest questions from that, replying to sincere congratulations of the other, that he found no time to inspect the tables or sample carefully what they bore.

After an hour or so the regiment was called to attention and then furloughed to the following Monday, June 15, at sunset; at which time the members were ordered to report at the old camp at Readville.

The day following our arrival home, Colonel Lee received a letter from Lieutenant-Colonel A. G. Browne, Jr., the military secretary of Governor Andrew, written in obedience to a request from the Governor (who at that time was in New York City), that the Forty-fourth be given an official welcome. He quotes from Governor Andrew's letter of instructions: “I beg that you will cause a proper expression to be officially made to Colonel Frank Lee and the Forty-fourth Massachusetts, announced by telegraph this morning to be now in Boston Harbor, of my interest in this fine and most exemplary corps and its commander. It will meet a splendid popular reception.” In Colonel Browne's letter he refers to the fact that General Foster requests our arms and equipments to be returned at the earliest possible moment, so they could be used in arming General Wilde's brigade of colored troops which he was then recruiting in North Carolina.

Company B was the only distinctively local company in the regiment, all its members, with but two or three exceptions, having enlisted from Newton. Shortly after the muster out of the regiment the citizens of that town gave Company B a reception at Newton Corner. The stores were closed and the schools dismissed. William O. Edmands was chief marshal and Hon. J. Wiley Edmands





presided. Several appropriate speeches were made, and the exercises concluded with a banquet in Elliot Hall.

On June 15, pursuant to orders, the regiment assembled at Readville. Much to our disappointment we were not permitted to occupy our old barracks, as they were in possession of the Fifty-fifth, but were quartered on the other side of the road, farther east, where the Forty-third and Forty-fifth had been located during our first residence in that town. On the 16th we went into Boston and performed escort duty for the Third Regiment, which had performed like duty for us on our departure from New Berne.

The morning after we reached camp, Special Order No. 71 was received, as follows:—

Headquarters, Camp Meigs, Readville, June 15, 1863.

Special Order No. 71.

Copy of General Order No. 17 from these headquarters is herewith transmitted to Colonel F. L. Lee, commanding Forty-fourth Massachusetts, who will govern himself accordingly.

R. A. Peirce, Brigadier-General.

The order to which this referred was the following:—

Headquarters, Camp Meigs, Readville, June 10, 1863.

General Order No. 17.

On and after June 10 the following will be the daily duty throughout the entire camp:—

1. Reveille. Roll-call5 a. m.
2. First sergeant's call. Report to adjutant5.30 a. m.
3. Breakfast6.30 a. m.
4. Surgeon's call7.30 a. m.
5. Guard-mounting8 a. m.
6. Drills9 to 12 a. m.
7. Dinner12 m.
8. First sergeant's call. Report to adjutant1 p. m.
9. Drills1.30 to 4 p. m.
10. Dress parade5 p. m.
11. Supper6 p. m.
12. Retreat and roll-callSunset.
13. Tattoo8.30 p. m.
14. Taps9 p. m.





Regimental adjutants will make their returns to these headquarters at 7.30 A. M. each day. There will be three stated roll-calls daily, attended by at least one commissioned officer to each company; namely, at reveille, retreat, and tattoo. Lights will be extinguished at taps in the quarters of enlisted men. Length of drills at the discretion of the different commanders.1 One copy of this order will be placed in each barrack.

By command of

R. A. Peirce, Brigadier-General.

Lieutenant H. Holt, Post Adjutant.

The men, who had naturally been talking over the matter of their muster out, generally understood that their term of service having expired, the only duties that could be demanded of them, as they were not in the presence of an enemy, — when, of course, none would have thought for an instant of taking advantage of any technicality, — were that of policing and guarding the camp. We were proud of our proficiency in drill, we were most anxious to be given an opportunity to show the results of our nine months’ experience and instruction, and we had all indulged in pleasant dreams of the astonishment we would create by our steadiness in the Manual and battalion movements when given an opportunity for an hour or two each afternoon to exhibit on the plains of Readville. But when we found that the above order was to be enforced literally, that we were expected to attend “squad drill,” and were to be treated in all respects like “raw recruits,” we were very indignant; but the discipline to which we had been subjected for the previous nine months was not without its effect and the opposition was passive rather than active. Our officers were no more in sympathy with this order than the men, but their position made them more circumspect in expressing it. We may have done the commandant of the camp injustice, but he was not popular with the regiment when we were here the previous fall, — a fact which he himself fully recognized at the time; and now that we were enduring the restlessness engendered by the nearness of our muster out, the anxiety to be again

[note]



free from the restraints of army rule, and the natural reaction from the strict discipline under which we had been kept, we were probably incapable of judging calmly or dispassionately. Colonel Lee was absent from camp at the time the order was posted. On his return he had the obnoxious features modified.

Thursday, June 18, we were mustered out of the service of the United States.





CHAPTER XII. NORTH CAROLINA REVISITED.

IN January, 1884, Colonel C. G. Attwood, formerly of the Twenty-fifth Massachusetts, issued a circular inviting all who had served in North Carolina to join a party on a trip to the old North State. Like many others, I had always intended to revisit the places connected with the history of the Forty-fourth, and at this time the first opportunity was presented. Comrade Charles J. McIntire, of Company G, and I decided to join; but when we called on Colonel Attwood we were informed that owing to various causes the proposed expedition had been abandoned. We had talked about the trip so much that it was a great disappointment, and as it would be very inconvenient for us to be away in March, — the time named in Colonel Attwood's circular, — we decided to wait until the fall and go, with or without others. In August, after consulting with Colonel Attwood, eight hundred circulars were issued in his name, reviving the project suggested the January previous. A few favorable answers were received, but an equal number of resignations followed, and the party was finally composed of McIntire and myself.

I left home Tuesday evening, Sept. 30, 1884, with feelings hard to describe. It seemed almost as though I was again “going to war.” The old barracks, the river, camps, troops, drilling, and





various scenes of a wholly warlike nature were in my mind. I could not picture New Berne without plenty of soldiers moving about, the old forts bristling with cannon, war vessels in the river. I could hardly realize that I was to travel about without a “pass,” unmolested, in covered railway cars, or ride over the country roads instead of marching. However, I was on my way to the never-to-be-forgotten places, and must expect great changes.

For many years I had had a strong desire to visit Gettysburg. I started a little in advance of Comrade McIntire, whom I was to join at Baltimore. Having had quite an experience in photography (as an amateur), I decided to take my camera and a supply of dry plates, so as to secure views of the most interesting points; and in this sketch of the trip the number enclosed in parentheses following the mention of any place indicates that I succeeded in getting a picture of that locality, and is the number of the negative.

Space will not permit giving an account of the Gettysburg visit. It will be sufficient to say that I made some most pleasant acquaintances, who were engaged in and thoroughly familiar with the action of the battle, and I felt well repaid for the time spent.

On Friday morning, October 3, I boarded the south-bound train at Baltimore, where I joined McIntire. Passing through Washington, Fredericksburg, Petersburg, and Weldon, we reached Goldsboro’ at 7.30 P. M. Selecting the nearest hotel, we told the landlord the object of our visit, expressing a desire to meet some of our late opponents. He soon found some, with whom we passed a very pleasant evening.

Having arranged to send our baggage to New Berne by train, on Saturday morning we took a carriage and drove to the Goldsboro’ battlefield. To our surprise it was nearly five miles from the village. As we approached the field (568) by a different road from the one we had followed twenty-two years before, it was difficult to locate the various points. The railroad bridge was unmistakable; but we at last concluded that the trees had grown so that now we could not see the bridge from the memorable turnip-field in which we had rested Dec. 17, 1862. Time





was precious; as one view of the field was sufficient, we were soon in motion for Whitehall.

Our driver professed to know the route, but by noon he acknowledged he had not been over it for many years and had lost his way. We were disappointed, as we had hoped to ride over the same road that we marched over in 1862. Stopping at a farm-house for directions, the woman replied in the familiar North Carolina phraseology, “It's a right smart distance further this way, but I've heared my husband say this road is a heap better than the other;” and so we kept on. About 2 P. M. we turned into the main street (574) of Whitehall,1 at the point where Newcomb and Slocum, of Company A, were killed, Dec. 16, 1862.

Driving immediately to the Seawell House and ordering luncheon, we proceeded to view the position occupied by the Forty-fourth at the time of the action. Fortunately we found a Mr. Whitfield, who owned most of the land about there and was a resident of the place during the war. We found the little buriallot (570) on the river-bank near Company G's position. We were shown the places where many of the killed had been buried, and were told that since the war all the bodies had been removed,—he supposed to the Federal Cemetery at New Berne,—with the exception of one whose name or regiment was unknown, and a house having been built over the soldier's last resting-place, the body could not be disinterred. Walking out on the bridge (569) we took a view of the bank opposite our position (572), and then of the spot where the Confederate gunboat was built (571). The place had changed greatly. The south bank is now thickly studded with young trees, so that it is difficult to find a place from which the river can be seen. The half-dozen buildings which formed the town of Whitehall, and in 1862 were burned when we left, have been replaced by some twenty or thirty, among them a church, hotel, and saw-mill. About half a mile west of the main street is a hotel for summer guests near some springs which have been found to possess medicinal properties. There are seven of them, and the name “Whitehall” has

[note]



been discarded, the place now being known as “Seven Springs.” The main street of the town extends to about where Newcomb and Slocum were killed (573), which at the time of our first visit was an open field. A gentleman pointed out a tree in his garden under which they had been buried.

After luncheon we drove over the bridge on our way to La Grange, where we were to take the train for New Berne. Four miles an hour appears to be the maximum rate of driving in North Carolina, and it was 5.30 P. M. when we stepped on the platform of the railway station at that place.

At half-past six the train from Goldsboro’ arrived, and glad enough we were to get on board. We frankly stated to those we met the object of our trip, and the greatest cordiality was shown us. On this train we had the pleasure of meeting Captain Carroway. He had been in the Confederate cavalry, and while the Forty-fourth was in the department, commanded the pickets on the north side of the Neuse, with headquarters at or near Street's Ferry. McIntire remembered, when detailed on a flag-of-truce boat to carry some refugees up the river, having seen him near that place. Captain Carroway stated that for a long time he belonged to the “unreconciled,” but at last realized that it was no use “kicking against the pricks.” Now, he says, he can see that the war had its good results; that the people of both sections are becoming better acquainted, are discovering good points in each other that they knew not of before, and that their minds are being gradually cleared of prejudices. For his part he “was right glad to see us.” He got off at Kinston, expressing a wish that he might be able to be of service.

At 9 P. M. the train stopped and the brakeman shouted “New Berne.” We were as glad to reach our journey's end as we had been twenty-two years before, and we alighted at the same spot, opposite the railway round-house and machine-shop (606). We were not at all anxious to try that caravansary again. Dim memories of the reputation of the Gaston House rose in our minds,—those old fairy tales of realms of bliss to which enlisted men were not admitted; of beds with sheets; of tables with white cloths and napkins. We decided to go there, regardless of the expostulations and praises by another stage-driver of a rival hotel.





Unlike, too, our original method of proceeding, we rode from the station through Craven Street to our destination (579). It was like, yet unlike. No sentries parading up and down, no officers lounging on the piazza, none of that bustle we had known in 1862 and 1863. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and we could not resist the inclination to stroll about the town. Up Craven Street, by the house occupied by the colonel when the regiment was on provost duty (601); down Pollock Street, by the quarters of Company D (602, 603), and the old guard-house of District No. 1 (608). All were closed, no signs of life visible. Passing up Broad Street, we stopped in front of Company E's old quarters (604, 605). The front door was open and a young lady seated in the hall reading. Our escort was evidently well acquainted; he called her out and introduced us. She was very agreeable, and said that her recollections of the war were very dim, as she was but a baby when it broke out. On being told that we proposed photographing the places with which we were familiar as soldiers, she kindly offered to stand on the piazza; but as we could not appoint an hour, she unfortunately was absent when we returned for that purpose.

Sunday morning we started for a longer stroll, but the intense heat soon drove us back to cover. In the afternoon Mr. Street, to whom we had letters of introduction, took us to drive—out in view of the old camp-grounds of Stevenson's brigade; to the National Cemetery (577, 588), where we looked up the recorded burials of the Forty-fourth men (578, 587) and visited their graves.

The National Cemetery is located on the westerly side of the field on which we used to have our brigade and battalion drills, on the left of the wagon-road which, passing Fort Rowan (or Star Fort), runs in a northwesterly direction till it crosses the swamp near where Fort Stevenson was located. The grounds are about eight acres in extent, surrounded by a substantial brick wall. On entering, the first object to attract attention is the keeper's lodge, a one-story and French-roof cottage, built of North Carolina marl. Opposite the house maple-trees have been set out in such a way that when fully grown there will be an enclosure in the shape of a cross, roofed by the arching of the





limbs. It is known as Sylvan Hall. Trees in every variety that will flourish in the locality are scattered through the enclosure in profusion, together with flowering shrubs. Every grave is marked with a marble headstone engraved with the name of the soldier, if known; in many cases relatives have erected handsome monuments. By enriching the ground with soil from the swamp, a beautiful turf has been secured, which is green when all grass outside is dry and parched by the summer heat; and the whole effect is such that a visitor, on entering, can easily imagine that he is in a Northern cemetery. The friends of those buried there can feel assured that the last resting-place of their loved ones is as well cared for and as beautiful as any but the most expensive of our own “cities of the dead.” The National Government has provided that in these respects its dead heroes shall be perpetually honored.

One woman only is buried here. In 1864, learning that her betrothed, Charles E. Colledge, private in the Twenty-fifth Massachusetts, had been stricken with yellow fever, Carrie E. Cutter went to New Berne to nurse him. He died, and she, heart-broken, fell an easy prey to the same disease. Her last wish has been gratified in allowing her remains to forever rest beside those of him she loved so well.

Returning, we saw the mounds of earth representing Forts Rowan (581) and Totten (582, 583). On Monday we went again to these places and photographed them.

By advice of many who learned we were to visit “Little” Washington, we engaged a carryall, driver, and pair of horses, and left New Berne at 4.30 P. M. At the end of an hour we had gone three miles, and it was after seven when we reached Street's Ferry, only ten miles from New Berne. At 2.30 A. M., Tuesday, October 7, we drove into Washington. After disturbing the peaceful sleep of several citizens, we found a boarding-house kept by Mr. Adams, where we secured accommodations.

In the morning we engaged the services of one Joe Chauncey to drive us to Rawle's Mills. Some seven or eight miles out we came to the first swamp (595), though not the last, of which we ascertained the depth while accompanying General Foster in his North Carolina expeditions. A two-months drought had had its





effect, and we might have walked through without having the water come over our shoes. Wishing to reach Rawle's Mills before it was too late to photograph, we hurried on. We came to a sharp bend on the left, a small house on the right, open fields on both sides, and in front a ford between steep banks. We thought we had reached the location of our first action. After photographing it (596) we sought for the graves of our men, but could find no trace of any. Returning to the house and consulting an old lady who well remembered “Foster's raid,” we learned that we were mistaken regarding this place being Rawle's Mills. We drove on some two miles, when we reached a saw-mill owned by a Mr. Lilly, with whom our driver was acquainted. Mr. Lilly said the place we were seeking was about a quarter of a mile beyond the bend. He was not on the ground at the time of the fight, but knew all about it, and told us where some of our men had been buried, including one named Rollins. Their graves were originally under some trees which have been felled since the war, and the ground is now a cornfield. We drove to Rawle's Mills (585). The deepest part of the stream is now spanned by a substantial wagon-bridge. The course of the road has been somewhat changed, that part in which we were standing when ambushed being overgrown with bushes. The old breastworks have been levelled, but the field in which we bivouacked (584) is still cultivated. We then returned to Washington.

On Wednesday morning we began our inspection of Washington. We met a Colonel Carrow who offered to guide us, and found the accounts of his war experience very entertaining. We first went to Fort Washington (584), and then to the Grice place (590). The colonel's son had married one of the Misses Grice, and on invitation we entered the house, where we passed a most delightful half-hour with the family. Leaving the place, we paused to take a parting shot (591) and then went to the bridge. A Mr. Winfield, whom we fortunately encountered, gave us much valuable information. It appears that what our boys took to be a bend in the road near where Companies A and G were ambuscaded March 30, 1863, was a breastwork formed by felling a cypress-tree six feet in diameter across the road. Part of the





trunk still lays there slowly rotting (594). Mr. Winfield claims to have assisted in removing three men, one of whom was wounded in the breast (Sergeant Hobart), one in the eye (John Leonard), and another in the neck (T. J. Lawrence), to his mother-in-law's house, where they were nursed until able to stand removal to a hospital in the interior.

About 4 P. M. we started on our return to New Berne. When nearly across the bridge we stopped, and adjusting the camera took views of the bridge (600), the town above (579), and the town below (598); also the river, including Castle Island and Rodman's Point (593). Another ten-hours ride, broken only by a short halt at Vanceboro’, and we were again at the Gaston House, tired and sleepy.

Thursday was comfortably cool, and we spent the day in roaming about the town, taking views and recalling old memories.

On Friday morning we took the train for Kinston, reaching there about 11 A. M. We inspected the station (614, 621) and the fields beyond; then drove to the scene of the battle. We first went to the field in which the right wing formed on that memorable Sunday morning. As one experience of passing through the swamp was enough for a lifetime, we returned by the road which our left wing had taken (616). The little church on the farther side of the swamp was burned several years ago, and the field is now so overgrown with trees that not a glimpse of the bridge or the town beyond could be had. The old house (619), used as a hospital, was there, its front still showing where it had been struck with bullets. The owner was just beginning to repair. On visiting the bridge (617) we looked over the side to see where the man in gray uniform had lain the Sunday we crossed it in December, 1862. The channel of the river is now deep and the current strong. A view down the river (618) shows the jetties recently built by the United States Government to improve navigation. After our battle the Confederates built strong and elaborate works to protect the bridge against another attack. We found them in the same dilapidated state as were similar field-works erected during the war. The only places that looked at all natural were the hospital and the bridge, the latter being a duplicate of the one burned by our forces when we recrossed the





river. Its days are numbered, as the material of an iron bridge which is to take its place was being unloaded from the cars while we were in Kinston. We left that evening, reaching Goldsboro’ about midnight. We can say with much more certainty than we could have said on former occasions, “The object of the expedition has been accomplished.”

On our way home we visited Richmond, sailed down the James River, passing Fort Darling, Malvern Hill, Harrison's Landing, Bermuda Hundred, City Point, and other places of historical interest, to Norfolk, whence we took steamer for Boston, reaching home Friday night, after an absence of eighteen days. The North Carolina part of the trip might be accomplished in ten days by using the railroad only.

The visit was exceedingly interesting. Those who had been in the Southern army were particularly cordial, and anxious to do all they could to make our trip agreeable. All were hospitable, and hoped that more of the boys who wore the blue in North Carolina would pay them a visit.

On our return from North Carolina I obtained all the information possible from those who were present at the burial of comrades Morse and Rollins, near Rawle's Mills, Nov. 2, 1862. This I sent to the superintendent of the National Cemetery at New Berne, with a request that the remains of these men might be removed to that place. Sometime afterwards I received the letter of which a copy is given below, showing that the removal had been accomplished:—

United States National Cemetery, Office of Superintendent, New Berne, N. C., May 22, 1885.

Mr. Wm. G. Reed, Sec. 44th Mass. Vols. Assoc., 24 Ex. Pl., Boston, Mass.

Sir, — In compliance with your request, you are informed that the bodies of the three United States soldiers at Rawle's Mills, North Carolina, have been disinterred, brought to this cemetery, and reinterred. They were in fair preservation, and each readily recognized from your description. Their numbers are as follows: Charles Morse, Company E, Forty-fourth Massachusetts, grave No. 3256; Charles E. Rollins, Company C, Forty-fourth Massachusetts, grave No. 3257; —— King, Marine Artillery, grave No. 3258.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

Ed. Taubenspeck, Superintendent.





Aside from the pleasure derived from again seeing those places so prominent in our memories of army life, there is a peculiar gratification in having been the means of securing the removal of the remains of those fallen comrades from neglected graves to the beautiful resting-place provided by the United States Government.





CHAPTER XIII. MEDICAL AND SURGICAL NARRATIVE.

THE medical and surgical care of a thousand men under the exceptional circumstances of army life is no trifling matter. If the history of a regiment is not written in blood, the unusual conditions of camp and field entail no small amount of risk, suffering, and death upon its members, and of labor and responsibility on its medical staff. These results are largely increased by the youth and inexperience of the men who compose a regiment. The Forty-fourth was made up in large part of boys accustomed to all the luxuries of city and suburban life. The average age was about twenty-two years; the average height, five feet eight inches; and the average weight, one hundred and thirty-seven pounds.

The preliminary encampment at Readville was, for a time, a sort of picnic, at which daily drill was relieved by moonlight promenades to the strains of the Boston Brass Band. The daily routine was enlivened by the stirring notes of Dan Simpson's drum and Si Smith's fife. The severity of commissary diet was tempered by an abundant overflow from home tables. Nothing was too good for the “flower of the youth of Boston,” and these “pets of many a household” for a time, like Dives, fared sumptuously every day. Contractors’ shoddy was rejected for custom-made uniforms, fancy boots took the place of army shoes, and Short's knapsacks were provided by the generosity of the business men of Boston.





Meanwhile the surgeons were occupied with preparations for the sterner duties of the campaign in prospect. The cheery notes of the surgeon's call for the first time resounded through the camp. As it soon became a favorite air for all sorts of improvised words, descriptive of the disease most prevalent at the time, it is reproduced here.


[Illustration:


]

The personnel of the surgical staff and hospital officers was as follows; namely: —

SurgeonDr. Robert Ware.
Assistant-SurgeonDr. Theodore W. Fisher.
Hospital StewardWilliam C. Brigham.
WardmasterJames B. Brewster, Co. D.
Hospital CookSeth J. Hobbs, Co. G.
NurseNoah W. Brooks, Co. C.
NurseThomas J. Barnaby, Co. G.

This list was subsequently increased, according to the hospital muster-roll of Feb. 28, 1863, as follows: —

ClerkHenry W. Littlefield, Co. D.
Assistant-CookH. Clay Cross, Co. E.
NurseJoseph F. Dean, Co. F.
NurseAndrew H. Curry, Co. H.
NurseHarrison Parker, 2d, Co. H.
NurseBenjamin F. Bates, Co. I.
NurseCharles H. Roberts, Co. E.
NurseGeorge H. Ray, Co. C.
NurseCummings D. Whitcomb, Co. C.
NurseWilliam A. Smallidge, Co. C.
NurseJohn H. Pearce, Co. E.

Dr. Ware was a graduate of Harvard, of the class of 1852, and of the Medical College, class of 1856, and was a son of one of its most distinguished professors, Dr. John Ware. He had had some experience as a surgeon of the Sanitary Commission on board a hospital steamship in the Peninsular Campaign, and was in every way well qualified for his place. Dr. Fisher, after a business and academic education, graduated at Harvard Medical College





in the class of 1861, and had had two years’ experience in hospital service at the Boston Lunatic Hospital and as Resident Physician to the city institutions in Boston Harbor. He applied for a surgeoncy in a three years’ regiment, but had not practised the requisite number of years.

It was soon found by the surgeons that, in consequence of the great pressure for admission to this regiment, some physically unfit men had been passed by the examining physicians of the cities and towns. Deception as to age had been practised to some extent, and boys under eighteen, puny and undeveloped, had been passed, through their own urgency to enlist. This necessitated a re-examination of every man by the regimental surgeons. This duty was thoroughly performed at Readville, every member of the regiment being stripped, inspected, and tested in various ways. Confession of weakness or disability could only be extorted after actual discovery. As an example of this pressure, a squad of young men from Walpole refused to enlist unless one of their number, named Hartshorne, whose foot had been partially disabled, was passed. Richard V. De Peyster, of Framingham, of good family and in good circumstances, being rejected for near-sightedness, insisted on going in some capacity, if only as company cook. He was passed and assigned for duty in the stretcher corps, and at Rawle's Mill was wounded in the thigh and lost an arm while carrying his stretcher. Necessarily many slender youths were admitted; but they were believed to be sound, and proved better able to hold out on long marches than some older and heavier men, even of the veteran regiments.

The regiment was also re-vaccinated in all cases requiring it. Hospital stores and extra medical supplies were secured from governmental and private sources. Welcome addition to the hospital fund was made by friends of the regiment. Our stock of Government whiskey and sp. vin. Gall. was supplemented by Hungarian wine, cherry cordial, arrack, tinto Madeira of 1816, and old port which had mellowed in the cellars of the Emperor of Brazil! Let this be no reflection on the regiment or its officers, for it was professedly and actually a temperate regiment. When it became necessary to issue whiskey and quinine rations as a prophylactic against malaria, alcohol, water, and cayenne





pepper were substituted for whiskey by the surgeons, and no soldier is known to have acquired a dangerous hankering for this mixture.

The hospital was indebted for luxuries and delicacies for the sick to the Warren Street Society and Fifth Universalist Society, of Boston, the Channing Circle at Newton, and the Soldiers’ Aid Society of Waltham. Also to William H. Ireland, Esq., Dr. C. H. Allen, and numerous young ladies of Boston, of whose names I find the following on record: Misses Lizzie G. Cumston, Sadie K. Galloupe, Mary L. Dexter, Nellie E. Lovett, Carrie B. Streeter, Julia Streeter, and Louisa Prescott. May they find perennial youth in these pages! The barrack assigned for hospital purposes had a room for use at surgeon's call in front, and a ward with ten beds in the rear. But little sickness prevailed at Readville, however, except a mysterious complaint during the first week, attributed by the boys to senna put in the coffee by medical order!

The nurses were daily instructed in the art of bandaging and dressing wounds. A stretcher corps was organized, composed of specially detailed men selected from each company, to which was added the drum-and-fife corps, and to which afterwards the band belonged, ex officio, according to army regulations. This corps was furnished with stretchers devised by Assistant-Surgeon Fisher, and put in charge of Chaplain Hall, who afterwards gallantly led it in every engagement. It was drilled in carrying stretchers over rough ground, fences, and walls, breaking step to prevent swinging. The men were also taught how to make and apply tourniquets and compresses. After the regiment was mustered in, the soldiers were more nearly restricted to Government rations. The Sunday inspections grew more rigorous, and the extra dainties, such as cake, pickles, preserves, canned goods, etc., were excluded from the bunks and barracks by order of Surgeon Ware, who thereby got the not uncomplimentary sobriquet of “Old Sanitary.”

The regiment having been well prepared for service by constant drilling and occasional marches, sailed for New Berne, N. C., October 22, on the “Merrimac,” in company with the right wing of the Third Massachusetts Regiment. The hold and bunks had





been previously cleaned and whitewashed by order of Surgeon Ware; but the men suffered much from overcrowding, bad ventilation, sea-sickness, and inadequate provisions for cooking for so many men. Had the weather been rough, serious consequences might have resulted to health. Some colds were contracted by the wet ride in open cars from Beaufort to New Berne, and rheumatism made its first call on us.

The day after arrival was spent by the surgeons in securing quarters for a hospital. A house on Craven Street was selected and furnished with twenty-five or thirty beds. Here the sick and wounded were afterwards made very comfortable, thanks to our ample fund and stores. That nothing might be wanting, two stray cows by some fortunate chance found their way into the back yard, and, fed on Government hay, gave milk for the sick until restored to their reputed owners by an order from Provost-Marshal Messenger.

The Tarboro’ expedition occurred immediately on the arrival of the regiment; and the men, not being fairly acclimated, were put to a severe test in many ways. It lasted a fortnight, and included a skirmish and a march of one hundred and twenty-five miles in seven days. The blankets were all left at “Little” Washington by general order, and the weather proved unusually cold for the season. Our ideal sunny South suffered rapid deterioration in the presence of ice and snow. The latter fell to the depth of several inches, and the stiff cold mud and constant fording of icy creeks shrunk the boys’ custom-made boots and produced ugly ulcers and blisters on hundreds of feet. Strips of old linen and junks of mutton tallow, foraged on the way, were served out night and morning, and wide army shoes commanded a premium. Many were forced to cut their boots off and walk in their stockings. Ice formed in the woods an inch and a half thick, and the water froze in our canteens on one or two nights as they lay on the ground beside us; and yet the heat at noon was sufficient, with the unaccustomed pressure of the accoutrements on the chest, to produce many heat-strokes.

The surgeons were constantly busy attending the sick and exhausted men, and giving passes to lame ones for the ambulances.





These could not accommodate a tenth part of the stragglers, who were obliged to fall behind and make their slow and painful way into camp in the night. And yet ours was the liveliest regiment in the line, and held out, except for the sore feet, as well as the veteran regiments. The boys enlivened the march with singing, which not only cheered their comrades but the whole line. There was also a deficiency of rations, and many an extra mile was covered in the search for provisions along the route. The first day a mule-team was confiscated (“ ‘convey,’ the wise it call”) for the use of the hospital department, and loaded with supplies. This was driven immediately in the rear of the regiment, so that we did not depend on the distant ambulances. At Rawle's Mill, on Sunday evening, Nov. 2, 1862, the regiment was under fire for the first time. This engagement will be described elsewhere, and by referring to the list of killed and wounded its results will be seen. The first wounded were attended in a grove of pines just before coming to the creek (Chopper's) on the left of the road. De Peyster and others were taken into a Secesh cabin on the right. Here his arm was amputated by Surgeon Otis, senior at that time and place. One soldier was led out of the fight by two comrades in a frenzied condition, having been made temporarily delirious by the suddenness of the attack. The dead having been buried by Chaplain Hall, who had bravely led the stretcher corps into the creek, the wounded were placed in ambulances and sent forward in charge of the assistant-surgeon, who attended a mortally wounded Rebel in a little house on the way.

At the end of the third day's march thirty disabled men were put on board a gunboat at Hamilton, which had accompanied us on the Tar River. On the fifth day forty more were so disposed of. On our return, these, with the wounded from the skirmish at Rawle's Mill, were sent back to New Berne on board the “Northerner” in charge of Assistant-Surgeon Fisher, getting aground five times on the way. The delay, with the heat, insufficient supplies, and a fearful stench from the horses on the forward deck and the suppurating wounds, caused great discomfort to the sick and wounded.

On our return to New Berne the regimental hospital service





was thoroughly organized by Surgeon Ware, strict orders for the daily routine being issued November 20. Assistant-Surgeon Fisher had charge of the sick in quarters, of whom there were many suffering from diarrhœa, bronchitis, and rheumatism, contracted on the Tarboro’ march. By reference to the Sick Report Summary it will be seen that the aggregate number for November was 337, against 206 for October. The barracks, which were of such contracted dimensions as to give but one hundred and fifty cubic feet of air space to each man, were ventilated by openings at the ridge and sides, at the expense of the hospital fund. November 21 a detail of twenty-four men was made, selected by the surgeons from a list of twice that number, of an invalid guard, which was sent to garrison a block-house up the Trent River. These were mostly cases of rheumatism, hernia, and varicose veins, brought on by lying on the wet ground and by continued marching.

The Goldsboro’ expedition set out December 11, and returned December 20. In nine days the regiment marched one hundred and fifty miles, bivouacking at night and participating in three engagements with the enemy. The weather was clear, with hot days and frosty nights. A less number fell out of the ranks and there were fewer sunstrokes than on the previous expedition. The men had their blankets this time, and were provided with the low, wide army shoes, thus escaping to a great extent the suffering from sore feet. There were similar creeks to cross, however, and the constant halting and unexpected starting of the column made marching difficult and wearisome.

At Kinston, December 14, as the regiment formed in line of battle, the surgeons were directed by Medical-Director Snelling to station themselves in the edge of some woods and attend to the wounded indiscriminately as they were brought to the rear. This order was complied with for half an hour, when the work of dressing wounds and extracting balls was continued in a little house in the edge of the swamp where the regiment had gone in. In a short time another move was made to a large house full of wounded near the Kinston bridge, where work was in progress till after dark. Fortunately the regiment escaped without wounds, although under fire for some time in the swamp.





At Whitehall the regiment went into line of battle on a hill behind Belger's battery. Two men had just been killed by a shell, when Edwin S. Fisher of Boston, a drummer-boy of Company G, was wounded in the knee, a large flap of integument being torn off and left hanging by the explosion of a shell. He was attended at once by Assistant-Surgeon Fisher, and during the painful and tedious process of stitching the flap into place showed great coolness by calling for a pencil with which to enter the occurrence in his diary. Meanwhile the regiment had moved forward to the extreme front, and Surgeon Ware had collected a number of wounded behind a little cabin on the right flank. When rejoined by the assistant-surgeon the regiment was under a hot fire from rebel sharp-shooters concealed in the tree-tops, and the rear of the line was anything but a pleasant place. Belger's battery, a few yards from hospital headquarters, was losing rapidly in horses and men. Stout Captain Belger, with arms akimbo, ordered the guns loaded with grape and canister, and then shouted, “Fire into the trees! Now, boys, stand by my battery!” A hospital attendant, Joseph F. Dean, of Cambridge, Company F, was hit about this time. It was feared the fire of the battery would draw an artillery fire on their frail shelter, so the dead and wounded were put on stretchers and carried to a grove in the rear, where the angry spit of bullets was less frequent. An attempt here to tie the subclavian artery was a failure, the patient dying of hemorrhage from a deep wound in the axilla. George E. Noyes, of West Roxbury, Company K, declined surgical aid, saying he was past help and others needed it more. He died the next day from a wound in the abdomen.

As the firing slackened the dead were buried under direction of Chaplain Hall, and the wounded removed to a general rendezvous on the hill. Here more surgical work was done, and Medical-Director Snelling ordered the assistant-surgeon to put the wounded in ambulances without distinction of regiment, although a detail of ambulances had been assigned to each regiment. This order was disregarded, and all the wounded of the Forty-fourth able to be moved were sent on their way to Goldsboro’. As they passed along the road parallel to the river the





ambulances were fired on by lingering Rebels across the river. Assistant-Surgeon Fisher, who was searching for wounded in the field near the bridge, was also fired at two hours or more after the fight was over. “He means you, Doc.!” said a soldier guarding a pile of knapsacks behind a chimney. Such incidents, as well as the flag-of-truce trick at Goldsboro’, were somewhat characteristic of Rebel ideas of honor.

Insensibility to pain was noticed in many cases as a consequence of the excitement of battle, as in the cases of Fisher and Noyes already mentioned. At Kinston also a bullet was being extracted with some difficulty from among the bones of the foot, when the soldier, being asked if it hurt, cried out: “Dig away, Doctor, and damn the pain! We've licked ’em!” The contrasting condition was seen at Whitehall, when a soldier who had accidentally or purposely shot off his right forefinger was bellowing like a calf under the process of dressing it, while from a room full of seriously wounded men around him not a groan was heard.

At Goldsboro’ the regiment went into line of battle in reserve just out of sight of the field of battle, which was in a fine, open country between the railroad and river. The surgeons rode forward, and learning that the objective point of the expedition was in our hands, assisted for several hours at the hospital head-quarters in a large house overlooking the field. In the afternoon they rode down to the front, where Belger's and Morrison's batteries, with a regiment in support, were slowly shelling the woods near the railroad bridge. A squad of cavalry occupied the right flank. Just at this moment a white flag was seen waving in the edge of the woods, and the cavalry galloped up to it to bring in the prisoners supposed to be in waiting, when they received a volley which sent them back in haste. The shelling was renewed for half an hour with more vigor, when from beyond the railroad embankment was heard a Rebel yell, shrill, like the screams of a multitude of women and children, and in a moment three regiments mounted the bank and charged directly on the batteries. The left one was seen to falter under the artillery fire and seek safety behind the railroad, while the other two regiments came bravely on, the grape and canister cutting great gaps in the ranks till they were compelled to withdraw with great loss. The





supports coming up also showed the Rebels the hopelessness of their attempt. After this charge Surgeon Ware remained awhile to assist at the general hospital, and Assistant-Surgeon Fisher rejoined the regiment, which went into line of battle across a road in the woods. Here perfect silence was enjoined, and one poor fellow with a spasmodic cough was dosed with opium and hurried to the rear between two comrades, with his handkerchief stuffed into his mouth. Nothing came of all our precautions, and the army took up its line of march through a burning forest towards New Berne.

On our return the same crop of lung and intestinal diseases appeared as had followed our Tarboro’ expedition, but they were less amenable to treatment. Bronchitis and diarrhœa were replaced by pneumonia and dysentery. The total number under treatment for December was 331, and the daily average of sick and wounded in hospital and quarters was 85. Our losses on the Goldsboro’ expedition may be learned from the tables appended. December 25, the first case of a new and alarming disease occurred in our regiment, proving fatal in a few days. The epidemic, which followed and extended to other regiments, was entirely outside the experience of any of the surgeons in the department. The fever was at first regarded as a virulent type of malarial disease. The autopsy in the case of Henry G. Kimball, of Andover, Company G, who died Jan. 1, 1863, made by the assistant-surgeon, showed the presence of inflammation in the membranes of the brain and spinal cord. The disease was afterwards recognized as cerebro-spinal meningitis, which is identical with the disease once known as spotted fever, occurring as an epidemic in Massachusetts between the years 1807 and 1816. The next death was that of John C. Pollitz, Boston, Company F, on January 7. Having been previously well, he came in from guard in the morning, was sent to the hospital, and died the same afternoon. This sudden fatality naturally produced much consternation in the regiment. Quinine rations were issued as a prophylactic measure, and Surgeon Ware was untiring in his efforts to determine the cause of the epidemic.

In a letter to Lieutenant-Colonel W. H. Muzzey, Medical Inspector United States Army, he describes the barracks as





“placed so near the edge of a swamp that the space allotted for the sinks and pools of refuse is much too small for a permanent camp, and too near the barracks. The barracks are built of green pine, and the sills are laid directly on the ground. The buildings are placed end to end, those of each wing forming one side of a square, the retreating angle of which is directed towards the swamp.” The dimensions of the barracks which he gives allow but one hundred and fifty cubic feet per man, or one seventh of the air space which the British Army regulations require for permanent barracks. Surgeon Ware further states that up to February 20, nineteen cases of the fever had occurred, with twelve deaths. No new cases appeared after January 19, when the first heavy rains fell. The epidemic was preceded by a long dry and warm spell of weather. The first symptoms in most cases were of intense cerebral congestion, followed by convulsions, rigidity of the muscles, and coma. There were usually headache, stupor, small, quick pulse, duskiness of the face, and sometimes collapse in the first stage, followed by a noisy delirium, deafness, squinting, rigidity, and lastly a petechial or purpuric eruption, typhoid symptoms, coma, and death. Dr. Ware thought the disease was probably both of typhous and malarial origin.

February 1, in consequence of the epidemic, and the possible connection of the swamp and barracks with it, the regiment was sent to Plymouth. Assistant-Surgeon Fisher was detailed for service in the Foster General Hospital the last of January, much against his desire and the remonstrances of Colonel Lee and Surgeon Ware. A promise was exacted that if the regiment took the field or moved he should go with it; and the Plymouth expedition having been ordered about this time, he was reluctantly allowed to go. The regiment remained in Plymouth ten days, quartered on board the “Northerner” at first, and afterwards in some empty warehouses without fire. The weather was very cold and the ground covered with snow. One mysterious night march of twenty-five miles was made with the usual mud, and ice-cold creeks to ford. Measles first appeared here, and the assistant surgeon was one of the first victims. Lying on the floor of a Southern house, with a Northern snow-storm raging at every





crevice, very sick with a disease one is ashamed not to have had in early life, is no joke, however it may appear to one's brother officers! After our return, February 10, to New Berne the regiment suffered from measles and diphtheria. The cases were severe and in a few instances fatal. The assistant-surgeon was sent as a patient to the Stanley General Hospital, putting the whole burden of the regimental work upon Surgeon Ware. On February 20 there were 44 sick in quarters and 66 in hospital, general and regimental, of which 30 were cases of measles. The daily average in January was 72, in February, 67. On his recovery the assistant-surgeon went on duty at the Foster General Hospital. He had under his charge one half of the patients, medical and surgical, officers and men, in the large building formerly used as a theatre and masonic hall, amounting to about 75 on an average. In the first story the stage and auditorium of the theatre made one large ward, the drop-scene being nailed up over the stage to form its ceiling. In the masonic hall overhead the sick and dying were cheered by the masonic emblems painted in the panels of the ceiling, a coffin being conspicuous in one corner! The regimental hospital was removed for convenience from Craven Street to a hospital barrack at the camp the last of February.

March 14, during the attack on our outposts across the Neuse River, shot and shell fell near the hospital and officers’ quarters about breakfast-time. Shells for breakfast were a novelty. The sick and the horses having been removed, the cannonading was watched with less anxiety. March 15, the regiment or rather eight companies of it were sent by transport to “Little” Washington under medical charge of Surgeon Ware, leaving two companies, F and B, which were on picket duty at Batchelder's Creek, and the invalid guard at Brice's Creek in charge of the assistant-surgeon, who also continued his duties at the Foster General Hospital. No amount of influence or persuasion which was brought to bear on the chief medical authorities sufficed to revoke his detail or annual the above arrangement. As it afterwards proved, a disproportionate amount of work devolved on Surgeon Ware, which may have been influential in causing his sickness and untimely death. But this result was not and could not have been foreseen. As Surgeon Fisher took an affectionate leave of





his senior on board the “Escort,” neither for a moment imagined it was a final farewell.

The details of the long siege and the consequent sufferings of the men are narrated elsewhere. The casualties were few, but the constant night alarms, heavy work by day on short rations, and the exposures and anxieties of the siege entailed much unusual labor on Surgeon Ware, who was the senior medical officer of the garrison. The surgeon's-call book having been lost, the proportion of sickness in this part of the regiment cannot be determined. No fatal disease prevailed, but cases of diarrhœa, dysentery, bronchitis, and tonsilitis were frequent. Surgeon Ware's duties also extended to the other regiments and to the large number of negroes engaged on the defences. The following newspaper item relates to one of Surgeon Ware's patients:—

“I must tell you of one hero who saved a company of soldiers from certain death. A flat full of soldiers, with a few negroes, attempted to land at Rodman's Point, but were repulsed by a terrible fire of Rebel bullets, all tumbling into the boat and lying flat to escape being shot. Meanwhile the boat stuck fast on the shore, when this noble African said: ‘Somebody's got to die to git us out of dis, and it may as well be me!’ He then deliberately got out and pushed the boat off, and fell into it, pierced by five bullets. Dr. Ware afterwards amputated a leg and resected a part of one bone in the arm; but the man of course died.”

Surgeon Ware was attacked with double pneumonia of a typhoidal type about April 5, and died April 10, four days before the raising of the siege. He had been seized with a dangerous attack of syncope during our former visit to “Little” Washington in November, of which he made light, but which probably indicated cardiac debility not favorable to a long life. He was afterwards apparently as vigorous as ever, and his death was a surprise and shock to all. His unsparing activity and zeal in the performance of his official duties made his death seem more untimely. He had become endeared to the men of the regiment, who had learned his real worth and his kindness of heart, and his death was the saddest event of the sad and gloomy weeks of the siege. His brother officers of the field and staff had early learned to love him as a brother. He was, in fact, the connection, friend, or familiar acquaintance of several of





them before the war, and his death came like a family loss to them. This is not the place for an adequate memorial sketch of so diligent a student, so talented a surgeon and sanitarian, so noble a character, or even of so good a soldier. His alma mater will preserve his memory in marble as pure as his fame; his classmates will recount his virtues; his friends and comrades will long mourn his loss; and his name will stand in his country's roll of honor, high among those whose self-sacrifice, though “sweet and fitting,” was sad and disheartening to the last degree.

During the siege the distant boom of guns daily aroused new apprehensions for the safety of their comrades in the men left at New Berne. The lack of reliable intelligence became positively painful, until about April 11, when rumors reached them of the death of Surgeon Ware. Assistant-Surgeon Fisher at once demanded permission to join the regiment, but was detained a day or two, until the rumor was confirmed. He then left on the “Escort,” expecting to run the blockade, but fortunately found Hill's Point in possession of our men. The last gun of the siege was fired the night of his arrival. The boys plainly showed the effects of the siege in their worn and anxious looks, but soon recuperated under the cheering influences of sleep, good rations, and the prospect of an early return to New Berne.

From April 22 to the close of its term of service the regiment was acting as provost-guard of New Berne. A large mansion-house on Broad Street was taken for a regimental hospital. Surgeon Fisher, whose commission dated from the day of Surgeon Ware's death, took charge of it. Daniel McPhee had been commissioned Assistant-Surgeon late in March, and joined the regiment on its return. Typhoid fever became prevalent, and was increasing in frequency and severity when the regiment sailed for Boston. Seven cases were too sick to be moved, and were sent to the Foster General Hospital, where four of them died. Many others, though very weak, were put on board the “Guide,” in care of Surgeon Fisher. Assistant-Surgeon McPhee accompanied the left wing on board the “George Peabody.”

To summarize the results from a medical point of view of our nine months’ service, the following table will suffice:—





Killed and died of wounds11
Wounded32
Died of disease26
Discharged for disability65
Invalid guard25
Total sick for eight months2,128
Pensions granted46
Claims pending35

The regiment was an average one physically, but above the average in activity, intelligence, and esprit de corps. Its short term was made up of active service well calculated to test its mettle and endurance, and in no case did it fail to exhibit all those manly qualities characteristic of Massachusetts soldiers.

Killed and died of Wounds.

Charles E. Rollins, Brookline . Company C, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Charles Morse, Boston . . . Company E, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Matthew R. Meagher, Boston . Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

D. Tyler Newcomb, Medford . Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

J. Watson Slocum, Holliston . Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Sergeant A. Stacy Courtis, Cambridge Company C, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Corporal Edwin H. Curtis, Boston Company C, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Antonio F. Pollo, Boston . . Company C, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

George E. Noyes, West Roxbury Company K, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Albert L. Butler, Cambridge . Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 19, ’62.

Sergeant David K. Hobart, Boston, Company G, Wash'n, N. C., Apr. 24, ’63.

Taken Prisoner.

Sergeant David K. Hobart, Boston, Company G, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

Corporal Theodore J. Lawrence, Boston, Company G, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

Private John Leonard, Roxbury, Company G, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

Deserted.

William Gibson, Chelsea . . Company A, Readville, Oct. 8, ’62.

Patrick Dalton, Newton . . Company B, Readville, Oct. 21, ’62.

Morris P. Lenihan, Boston . Company H, Boston, Oct. 22, ’62.

Wounded.

James W. Briggs, 2d Lieut., Boston, Company C, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Sergeant Albert C. Pond, Boston Company C, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.





William A. Smallidge, Cambridge, Company C, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Sergeant Frederick W. Smith, Jr. Company C, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

John C. Peakes . . . . . Company C, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Asa H. Stebbins, 2d Lieut., Boston Company D, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Charles H. Roberts, Melrose . Company E, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Richard V. De Peyster, Framingham Company H, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Harrison Parker, 2d, Winchester Company H, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

E. Augustus Jacobs, South Scituate Company H, Rawle's Mill, Nov. 2, ’62.

Alexander H. Everett, Cambridge Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Albert S. May, Needham . . Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

John F. Berry, Boston . . . Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Sgt. James F. Clark, W. Cambridge Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Amos K. Tappan, Boston . . Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

John W. Greenwood, Needham Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

William Bamford, North Andover Company A, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Warren P. Everett, Newton . Company B, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Charles C. Ewer, Boston . . Company D, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Frederick Jackson, Boston . Company D, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Joseph F. Dean, Cambridge . Company F, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Francis E. Lincoln, Boston . Company G, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Edwin S. Fisher, Boston . . Company G, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Sgt. William W. Howe, Framingham Company H, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

Edward C. Crosby, Framingham Company H, Whitehall, Dec. 16, ’62.

George H. Colby, Boston, Company D, Signal Corps service on gunboat on Neuse River, near Kinston, Dec. 14, ’62.

Captain James M. Richardson, Hubbardston, Company A, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

Corporal Theodore J. Lawrence, Boston, Company G, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

Corp. John King, Boston, Company G, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

John Leonard, Roxbury, Company G, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

Corp. John D. Priest, Boston, Company G, Washington, N. C., Mar. 30, ’63.

Frederic Odiorne, 2d Lieut., Company G, clothing riddled with balls at same place.

Died.

Henry G. Kimball, Andover, Company G, Jan. 1, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

John C. Pollitz, Boston, Company F, Jan. 7, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Alfred B. Moulton, Framingham, Company C, Jan. 9, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Josiah Moody, South Hadley, Company F, Jan. 14, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Corporal Adfur J. Upham, Boston, Company G, Jan. 18, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.





George F. Boynton, Dorchester, Company G, Jan. 19, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Walter S. Bradbury, Cambridge, Company C, Jan. 22, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

William F. Ingraham, South Hadley, Company F, Jan. 24, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Sergeant Albert F. Potter, Newton, Company B, Jan. 29, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

George B. Young, Andover, Company G, Feb. 3, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Francis C. Hopkinson, Cambridge, Company F, Feb. 13, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Charles A. Bradt, Lowell, Company C, Feb. 19, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Ezra N. Fuller, Needham, Company A, Feb. 21, ’63, measles.

Sergt. Charles E. Harwood, Boston, Company I, Feb. 26, ’63, diphtheria.

James S. Gilmore, Walpole, Company K, Feb. 26, ’63, diphtheria.

Otis S. Merrill, North Andover, Company C, Mar. 2, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Reuben J. Gilman, Billerica, Company I, Mar. 7, ’63, cerebro-spinal meningitis.

Surgeon Robert Ware, Boston, Apr. 10, ’63, pneumonia.

Edmund L. Cutter, Weston, Company I, Apr. 25, ’63, pneumonia.

Henry F. Melville, Brighton, Company A, May 15, ’63, inflammation of bowels.

James A. Mickel, Charlestown, Company K, May 28, ’63, pneumonia.

Timothy S. Boynton, Framingham, Company C, June 8, ’63, typhoid fever.

Frank B. Hanson, Boston, Company A, June 11, ’63, typhoid fever.

Matthew Howard, North Andover, Company A, June 17, ’63, typhoid fever.

Eben R. Buck, Newton, Company B, June 17, ’63, typhoid pneumonia.

William A. Barnes, Boston, Company H, June 18, ’63, typhoid fever.

Discharged for Disability.

Capt. Jacob H. Lombard, Boston, Company C, Resigned, Jan. 14, ’63.

Capt. Frank W. Reynolds, Boston, Company K, Resigned, Dec. 28, ’62.

Corp. John T. Sargent, Jr., Boston, Company A, Discharged, Mar. 9, ’63.

John F. Berry, Boston . . . . Company A, Discharged, Feb. 14, ’63.

John W. Greenwood, Needham . Company A, Discharged, Apr. 1, ’63.

Hiram Hubbard, Jr., Boston . . Company A, Discharged, Apr. 16, ’63.

Albert S. May, Needham . . . Company A, Discharged, Feb. 28, ’63.

Henry E. Warner, Boston . . . Company A, Discharged, Oct. 7, ’62.

Henry C. Whittier, Boston . . Company A, Discharged, Jan. 14, ’63.





Corp. George W. Lamson, Newton, Company B, Discharged, Jan. 14, ’63.

John Brennan, Needham . . . Company B, Discharged, Jan. 30, ’63.

Stephen M. Dresser, Newton . . Company B, Discharged, Jan. 30, ’63.

Edward P. Kingsbury, Newton . Company B, Discharged, Sept. 25, ’62.

Rodney M. Lucas, Newton . . Company B, Discharged, Jan. 30, ’63.

William T. Mullen, Newton . . Company B, Discharged, Mar. 9, ’63.

Bowman G. Salsbury, Newton . . Company B, Discharged, Oct. 3, ’62.

John A. Washburn, Newton . . Company B, Discharged, May 28, ’63.

Frank O. Bradt, Lowell . . . . Company C, Discharged, Mar. 14, ’63.

Charles H. Hiscock, Cambridge . Company C, Discharged, Oct. 4, ’62.

Thomas Holmes, Lynn . . . . Company C, Discharged, Sept. 30, ’62.

Edward F. Mahoney, Boston . . Company C, Discharged, Jan. 31, ’63.

Charles L. Plummer, Boston . . Company C, Discharged, Oct. 7, ’62.

George M. Rollins, Brookline . . Company C, Discharged, Apr. 15, ’63.

David J. Thomas, Boston . . . Company C, Discharged, Apr. 15, ’63.

William Ware, Milton . . . . Company C, Discharged, Mar. 14, ’63.

J. Albert Blanchard, West Cambridge Company D, Discharged, Mar. 9, ’63.

Charles C. Ewer, Boston . . . Company D, Discharged, May 6, ’63.

William B. Leatherbee, Boston . Company D, Discharged, Oct. 3, ’62.

Theodore L. Barnes, Waltham . Company E, Discharged, Apr. 3, ’63.

George E. Buttrick, West Roxbury Company E, Discharged, Mar. 9, ’63.

William Dean, Waltham . . . Company E, Discharged, Nov. 3, ’62.

Peter F. Jones, Roxbury . . . Company E, Discharged, Mar. 9, ’63.

Edward Richardson, Cambridge . Company E, Discharged, Mar. 24, ’63.

Charles H. Roberts, Melrose . . Company E, Discharged, Jan. 14, ’63.

William F. Sawyer, Malden . . Company E, Discharged, Oct. 3, ’62.

Joshua B. Warren, Boston . . Company E, Discharged, Oct. 1, ’62.

George W. Wheelwright, Jr., Roxbury Company E, Discharged, Oct. 3, ’62.

Henry A. Clark, South Hadley . Company F, Discharged, Oct. 4, ’62.

Horace E. Learned, Boston . . Company F, Discharged, Oct. 4, ’62.

John W. Pitman, Jr., Malden . . Company F, Discharged, Oct. 4, ’62.

George S. Sanford, Sherborn . . Company F, Discharged, Jan. 23, ’63.

Edwin S. Fisher, Cambridge . . Company G, Discharged, May 18, ’63.

J. Augustus Hall, Dorchester . . Company G, Discharged, Oct. 6, ’62.

Francis E. Lincoln, Boston . . Company G, Discharged, Mar. 31, ’63.

Thomas F. Phipps, Dorchester . Company G, Discharged, Oct. 6, ’62.

Joseph M. Bannister, Framingham Company H, Discharged, Mar. 9, ’63.

Allen F. Boone, Winchester . . Company H, Discharged, June 5, ’63.

Austin M. Copp, Malden . . . H, Discharged, Oct. 2, ’62.

Charles H. Fuller, Framingham . Company H, Discharged, Mar. 9, ’63.

E. Augustus Jacobs, South Scituate Company H, Discharged, Mar. 13, ’63.

Alonzo E. LeMoyne, Boston . . Company H, Discharged, Jan. 17, ’63.

Charles C. Rice, Winchester . . Company H, Discharged, Apr. 14, ’63.

Benjamin F. Bates, Brewster . . Company I, Discharged, Apr. 1, ’63.





Edward H. Judkins, Boston . . Company I, Discharged, Sept. 30, ’62.

Herbert B. Richardson, Weston . Company I, Discharged, May 18, ’63.

Forrest L. Whittredge, Boston . . Company I, Discharged, May 1, ’63.

Charles E. Wyett, Boston . . . Company I, Discharged, May 18, ’63.

William Bowers, Boston . . . Company K, Discharged, Feb. 7, ’63.

Guy Boyce, Sherborn . . . . Company K, Discharged, Jan. 14, ’63.

Ithamar W. Copeland, Dedham . Company K, Discharged, Jan. 14, ’63.

Charles M. Garland, Boston . . Company K, Discharged, Jan. 31, ’63.

George W. Nickerson, Walpole . Company K, Discharged, Jan. 14, ’63.

Thomas Seavey, West Roxbury . Company K, Discharged, Jan. 31, ’63.

James W. Spinney, Sherborn . . Company K, Discharged, Jan. 14, ’63.

Joseph T. Stedman, Roxbury . . Company K, Discharged, Feb. 17, ’63.

Invalid Guard.

Corporal Charles A. Yendell, Jr., BostonCompany A.
Matthew Howard, North AndoverCompany A.
Henry C. Whittier, BostonCompany A.
Antonio J. Fayes, NewtonCompany B.
Richard T. Robinson, CambridgeCompany C.
Isaac R. Stearns, ChelseaCompany C.
Horace P. Tuttle, CambridgeCompany D.
James A. Blanchard, West CambridgeCompany D.
Levi Kenerson, HinghamCompany D.
George L. Dyer, BostonCompany E.
William E. Copeland, RoxburyCompany F.
Peter R. Guthrie, BostonCompany G.
Charles L. LeCain, DorchesterCompany G.
T. Robinson Harris, CambridgeCompany G.
Lyman J. Sawyer, BostonCompany G.
Heman H. Belcher, FraminghamCompany H.
Rufus C. Bruce, FraminghamCompany H.
Matthias J. Moore, BostonCompany H.
Alonzo E. LeMoyne, BostonCompany H.
Henry W. Webster, CambridgeCompany H.
Theodore Pinkham, ChelseaCompany I.
Lawrence Rhoades, BostonCompany I.
Guy Boyce, SherbornCompany K.
James W. Spinney, SherbornCompany K.
George W. Nickerson, WalpoleCompany K.





GENERAL SUMMARY OF SICK REPORTS, FORTY-FOURTH REGIMENT, M. V. M.
Month.Whole Number under Treatment.Daily Average Number.
Sick.Wounded or injured.Total.In hospital.In quarters.Total.
1862.
October172342065712
November27265337132740
December28348331216485
1863.
January30928337205272
February21521236214667
March2408248194362
April1617168152742
May2650265162844
Total1,9172112,128130294424
Monthly average24026266163753

Pension Claims of all Classes admitted.
Matthew R. Meagher,1 BostonCompany A.
John F. Berry, BostonCompany A.
Albert S. May, NeedhamCompany A.
John W. Greenwood, NeedhamCompany A.
Henry C. Whittier, BostonCompany A.
James M. Richardson,1 HubbardstonCompany A.
Amos K. Tappan, BostonCompany A.
Francis B. Hanson,1 BostonCompany A.
John Brennan, NeedhamCompany B.
John A. Washburn, NewtonCompany B.
George N. Hill,1 NewtonCompany B.
Eben R. Buck,1 NewtonCompany B.
John R. Holmes,1 NewtonCompany B.
James S. Withington,1 NewtonCompany B.
Samuel B. Hadley,1 BostonCompany C.
George H. Ray,1 BostonCompany C.
Walter S. Bradbury,1 CambridgeCompany C.
Antonio F. Pollo,1 BostonCompany C.

[note]



Otis S. Merrill,1 North AndoverCompany C.
George H. Hobart, NewtonCompany D.
Theodore L. Barnes,1 WalthamCompany E.
James W. Lovejoy, CambridgeCompany E.
Charles H. Roberts, MelroseCompany E.
Albert K. Page,1 BostonCompany E.
John H. Hanson, BostonCompany F.
Edwin S. Fisher, BostonCompany G.
John Leonard, RoxburyCompany G.
Theodore J. Lawrence, BostonCompany G.
Henry G. Kimball,1 AndoverCompany G.
George B. Young,1 AndoverCompany G.
Elisha A. Jacobs, South ScituateCompany H.
Richard V. De Peyster,1 FraminghamCompany H.
Edward C. Crosby, FraminghamCompany H.
Edward S. Hemmenway, FraminghamCompany H.
Alonzo E. LeMoyne,1 BostonCompany H.
Frank W. Clapp,1 HollistonCompany H.
Benjamin F. Bates, BrewsterCompany I.
Edwin P. Upham, WestonCompany I.
Michael Shaughnessy, CambridgeCompany I.
George W. Nickerson, WalpoleCompany K.
James W. Spinney,1 WalpoleCompany K.
Ithamar W. Copeland, DedhamCompany K.
Thomas Seavey, West RoxburyCompany K.
William L. Mitchel,1 SherbornCompany K.
George E. Noyes,1 West RoxburyCompany K.
Joseph F. Stedman, RoxburyCompany K.

Pension Claims of all Classes pending.

George W. Lovejoy, AndoverCompany A.
Henry Ingraham, FraminghamCompany A.
John G. Whitmarsh, NeedhamCompany A.
Frederick T. Brown, BostonCompany A.
D. Tyler Newcomb,1 MedfordCompany A.
William T. Mullen,1 NewtonCompany B.
Samuel H. White, QuincyCompany B.
Rodney M. Lucas, NewtonCompany B.
John G. Erhart, NewtonCompany B.
Seth T. Snipe, NewtonCompany B.
William M. Rogers, NewtonCompany B.
William W. Robinson, NewtonCompany B.
Charles A. Belcher,1 NewtonCompany B.

[note]



William H. Belcher,1 NewtonCompany B.
Jacob H. Lombard,1 BostonCompany C.
Zenas T. Haines, Strong, MaineCompany D.
Edward W. Crane, BostonCompany D.
Charles C. Ewer,1 BostonCompany D.
Franklin D. Magoun, CambridgeCompany E.
Francis C. Hopkinson,1 CambridgeCompany F.
Samuel Moore,1 WaylandCompany G.
Thomas McCarty, West RoxburyCompany G.
Hezekiah N. Brown,1 WaylandCompany G.
Rufus C. Bruce, FraminghamCompany H.
Christopher Riley, FraminghamCompany H.
Nathaniel J. Foster, KingstonCompany I.
Lawrence Rhoades, BostonCompany I.
Samuel H. Corlis, WestonCompany I.
William A. Jessop, WaylandCompany K.
William W. Wild, LeominsterCompany K.
Walter Bailey, NeedhamCompany K.
Albert Fisher, WalpoleCompany K.
William P. Sanderson, West RoxburyCompany K.
James S. Gilmore, WalpoleCompany K.
James A. Mickel,1 CharlestownCompany K.

[note]








[Illustration:

Major CHARLES W. DABNEY, Jr.
]


[Illustration:

Lt.-Col. EDWARD C. CABOT.
]


[Illustration:

Dr. ROBERT WARE.
]


[Illustration:

Chaplain EDWARD HALL.
]


[Illustration:

Colonel FRANCIS L. LEE.
]


[Illustration:

Dr. THEO W. FISHER.
]


[Illustration:

Adjutant WALLACE HINCKLEY.
]


[Illustration:

Quartermaster FRANK BUSH, Jr.
]

FIELD AND STAFF OFFICERS OF THE 44th Regiment, M.V. M. 1862.

HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO., BOSTON





CHAPTER XIV. PERSONNEL.

THE Forty-fourth Regiment presented the usual entertaining variety in its ranks as to age, position, and occupation. The average age, on recruiting, was twenty-two years seven months; Company E being the youngest, with an average of twenty-one years five months; Company B, the most venerable, with an average of twenty-four years seven months. Looking at occupations, in Company C, seventy-nine out of one hundred were mercantile clerks; in Companies D, G, and E, the clerks were in a great majority; in Company B, there was an equal number of clerks and of laborers (twenty each); in Company F, there were twenty-two Harvard College students. In the entire regiment there were four hundred and fifty clerks, one hundred and eight farmers, seventy-five college students. Forty-five occupations in all were represented in the regiment, including carpenters, merchants, hotel-keepers, blacksmiths, musicians, barbers, lawyers, astronomers, and cooks. There was the same number of civil engineers and of butchers (seven); the same number of editors and of bakers (two); the same number of musicians and of upholsterers (three); nearly the same number of artists (eighteen) and of shoemakers (sixteen); precisely the same number of clergymen and of coachmen (three).

The individuality of character was even more marked than the variety of callings, and could be fully appreciated only by those





whose good fortune it was to spend month after month in such bright, amusing, and stimulating companionship. The quality of these common soldiers and their officers (for there was little difference, in this respect, between officers and men) can best be judged from the character of those whom we lost; and it is to these, in our reminiscences of the past, that our thoughts first turn. In the statistical tables which follow will be found the exact record of our losses; let me give here such brief allusions to the individuals themselves as I have been able to gather. If of the living we cannot say all that we could wish, of the dead we are privileged to speak unreservedly.

Of those who died during the campaign no loss was more keenly felt by both officers and men than that of Surgeon Robert Ware. Of all the memories that come back to us from those troubled months, none is more beautiful than that of this puresouled, refined, high-minded officer, going his rounds of labor with tireless devotion and winning the respect and admiration of all for his noble conception of a soldier's duty. Dr. Ware had graduated at Harvard College in 1853, and from the Harvard Medical School in 1856, and was in rapidly rising practice in Boston at the outbreak of the war. His first service was in connection with the Sanitary Commission, which he joined as inspector in 1861, acting in that capacity during the disastrous and soul-trying scenes of the Peninsular Campaign. No officer in the army was more keenly alive than he to official shortcomings and abuses, or more outspoken, at proper times and places, in denouncing them; yet none showed readier resources or quicker wit in improvising means for meeting the terrible exigencies of that campaign, or in making the hospital provision for half a dozen patients serve the needs of a hundred. His unsleeping attention to the wounded, as they came pouring in from the field to the transports, and his cheerful, indefatigable toil in the hospital, by the ambulance, and at the boat, profoundly impressed his co-laborers in the Sanitary Commission, and called out the most touching testimonials of gratitude and appreciation.1

[note]



As a regimental surgeon, Dr. Ware possessed qualities rarely united in one man; having tender sympathies and the finest delicacy of feeling, yet exacting of the men the strictest observance of sanitary regulations, and pitilessly exposing all their shams. Though resenting his severity at first, the soldiers found at once that it was only the impostors who had anything to dread, and soon learned to trust his skill, to appreciate his fidelity, and to recognize the dignity and unselfish purity of his character. His last illness was brought on, during the siege of “Little” Washington, by the unusual labors required of him among the negroes, as well as in his own regiment, to which, as usual, he gave himself unsparingly. He died, April 10, 1863, in his thirtieth year.

Major Charles W. Dabney, who came of the family so long and so honorably known in connection with the American consulship at Fayal, graduated at Harvard College in 1844, and was engaged in active business in Boston when the call for nine months’ troops was made. No one was more active or eager than he in organizing the regiment, and no officer served more efficiently than he through all our campaigns. He retired to civil life at the close of our service, carrying with him the deep affection of his army comrades, to add to the esteem and confidence he had already won and was still to win from his business associates and friends. Indeed, he was a man from whom entire trust and affection could not be withheld. The rare combination of the finer and manlier qualities in his nature was irresistibly engaging. Impressing every one at first by the exquisite and almost feminine gentleness of his bearing, he soon disclosed himself as one to look to in emergencies where only courage and endurance tell. He seemed as noteworthy for toughness of moral fibre as for delicacy. The stories told of his coolness and pluck in critical hours were innumerable. His was the great privilege through life of surrounding himself with appreciative friends. The sad news of his death in England, seven years after he left the army, called out charming tributes, full of genuine feeling, from every hand. From a very striking notice in the “Boston Advertiser” of Jan. 17, 1871, written by one who knew him well, I take these brief extracts:—





“While all the parts of his character fitted well together, his scale was large, and he was full of strength and hearty vigor, . . . the most trustworthy of men, in whose hands you would place all that you possess, from fortune to reputation. The most sympathetic in joy or sorrow, the most faithful in the performance of duties; a very rare man, and yet so natural as to be a compliment to his race. . . . His life was, for the most part, a fortunate and happy one. He amassed a large fortune of respect and affection, which he invested securely in the memories of many friends.”

Major Dabney's physical constitution was very vigorous, and he resisted the influences of climate and exposure to which so many of his comrades succumbed; but he was never quite well after the war, and the great excitement and exhaustion caused by the burning of his house and his efforts to save it, in 1867, made him soon afterwards an easy victim to the disease which attacked him. He died of pneumonia, in Malvern, England, Dec. 22, 1870, in his forty-eighth year. Funeral services were held in the Church of the Disciples, Boston, Jan. 17, 1871.

Adjutant Wallace Hinckley, the youngest and gayest of our military household at headquarters, whom we remember for the buoyancy and evident enjoyment with which he threw himself into the soldier's work, received his education and training in the Highland Military Academy of Worcester, Mass. After serving the Forty-fourth Regiment with admirable efficiency during its earlier experiences, and endearing himself to his companions by his amiable and happy traits, he left us to become adjutant of the Second Massachusetts Heavy Artillery, in which capacity he made for himself an honorable record throughout the war. He died of malarial fever, in Beaufort, N. C., Sept. 4, 1865.1

Quartermaster Francis Bush, Jr., was a most faithful and diligent officer in a very harassing branch of military service, and secured the hearty good-will of his comrades by his frank and obliging ways. He returned to civil life after the disbanding of our regiment, and became eventually the sole member of the old and well-known firm of Bent & Bush, in Boston. A few years after resuming his business cares his health began to fail him, and in the summer of 1874 his friends were startled by his sudden

[note]



death. The notices of his death bore testimony to the regard in which he was held by the community both as a merchant and as a friend. “Both in social and in business circles,” says one of these tributes, “he was respected and loved as only the noblest men and most honorable merchants can hope to be; and the memory which he leaves behind is of that precious kind which requires no effort to keep green.” He died of heart-disease, at the Isles of Shoals, Aug. 16, 1874.

Of those who were killed in battle or died of their wounds, during our service, I have been able to gather only the following facts:—

Charles Morse of Company E, who was killed in our first skirmish at Rawle's Mill, enlisted from Framingham at the age of nineteen, and had been a driver in the employ of the Adams Express Company. He was killed instantly, Sunday evening, Nov. 2, 1872, and was buried, with Charles E. Rollins of Company C, in a grave close by the little building used that evening as a hospital.1

Sergeant Ambrose Stacy Courtis of Company C, a graduate of the Cambridge High School, was in a counting-room in Boston at the time of his enlistment. His period of service, short though it was, seems to have been long enough to inspire his comrades with admiration of his cheerfulness under hardships, his consideration for others, and his gentlemanly traits of character. His appointment as sergeant gave the greatest satisfaction to the company, and his death was a sad event among companions who had learned in a few weeks’ campaign to love and trust him. He was killed instantly in the battle of Whitehall, Dec. 16, 1862, in his twenty-first year.

Albert L. Butler of Company A was clerk of the Cambridge Police Court at the time of enlistment, and went into the war, like so many others, to insure the freedom of the slave. His motives seem to have been of the highest and purest, and his conduct as a soldier won the hearty approval of his officers.

[note]



“Your son was brave,” wrote Captain Richardson to the bereaved mother, “and did his duty nobly fighting for his country.” His comrades, too, bore witness to his calmness under fire and the fortitude with which he endured his sufferings. He was wounded at Whitehall, and died in the ambulance which was carrying him from the field. He died in his thirty-first year.1

David Kimball Hobart of Company G was born in Boston in 1835, and graduated from the Boston High School at sixteen, to enter on a business career. At the age of twenty-two he established himself as a merchant in McGregor, Iowa, where he became mayor of the city, but had returned to Boston just before the war. Preferring the position of private with his companions in the Forty-fourth to a commission elsewhere, he had become orderly sergeant of his company at the time of his last engagement. He was wounded in a skirmish at “Little” Washington, March 30, 1863, and with two other wounded men fell into the hands of the enemy, and was taken first to the Confederate hospital at Greenville, then to that at Wilson, N. C. Whatever may have been the experiences of the Union prisoners elsewhere, nothing could have exceeded the kindness or skilful medical attention received by Hobart at both these hospitals. He had the gentlest of nursing, the best of care from the surgeons, frequent visits from ministers, and daily gifts of flowers from the women of the neighborhood. He had been shot through the lungs; but the native vigor of his constitution, aided by such devoted ministrations, prolonged his life for many days. He died April 14, 1863, in his twenty-eighth year, and was honorably buried in the hospital cemetery at Wilson.2

The Surgeon's Report, in another chapter, gives the sad list of the brave, uncomplaining men who were not permitted to fall in battle, but died in the regimental or general hospital at New Berne. No words that we can write to-day can do justice to the patient and heroic suffering witnessed by those who visited our soldiers in those trying hours. A soldier's death in the hospital

[note][note]



is always sadder than death upon the field; and although in our case the trials of sickness were reduced to a minimum by the excellence of the medical arrangements and the skill and devotion of the surgeons, many touching memories come back to us as we recall this portion of our experiences. I can only allude to the two or three cases about which I have been able to get special information.

Ezra N. Fuller, of Needham, Company A, left Tufts College to enter the Forty-fourth Regiment, served faithfully through all our marches and engagements, and died at the age of nineteen, in Stanley Hospital, Feb. 21, 1863, — the year in which he would otherwise have graduated from college. His remains were sent home to Needham, where the burial took place March 12, 1863. His classmates, together with the president and faculty of the college, were present at the funeral. Of this same company, Matthew Howard will be remembered as a tall Irishman of six feet four inches, and of great strength. He was left behind in Stanley Hospital, with seven or eight others, and died at about twenty-two years of age, within a week after his comrades were mustered out of service.

Few deaths in the regiment caused more sorrow than that of Francis C. Hopkinson of Company F. Hopkinson graduated from Harvard College in 1859, after a brilliant course of study both in college and at the Boston Latin School, took prominent part as a young orator in the political campaign which resulted in Lincoln's election, and had just finished his course in the Harvard Law School when the call for nine months’ troops was made. Entering the Forty-fourth Regiment with many of his college companions, he brought the same qualities which had signalized him among his fellows in school and college into the new experiences of camp life. Among many tributes to his memory from his army comrades, these words show the marked esteem in which he was held, under circumstances where only manly qualities can win esteem: “We shall remember him as a leader among us, always recognized as such for his acknowledged talents, even though he was only a private. We shall delight to remember him as a true, fearless, resolute, patient soldier, setting an example of fidelity, bravery, and unyielding pluck. None will





forget his generosity, and the many ways he devised to keep up the morale as well as amuse the company.” He died of typhoid fever, in Stanley Hospital, Feb. 13, 1863, in his twenty-fifth year.1

Turning to those who died in the service after having re-enlisted in other regiments, we think first of all, naturally, of the brave officers of the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth, as the first raising of negro regiments concerned our regiment so closely. While in camp at New Berne an official communication from Governor Andrew, dated Feb. 18, 1863, was received by Colonel Lee, saying, “We are raising a black regiment, the Fifty-fourth, under Colonel Robert G. Shaw, and want the very best officers. If you can recommend the following officers, I shall be obliged by your finding some means to send them up promptly, on leave or otherwise.” A lieutenant and two sergeants of the Forty-fourth are mentioned for this service, and the letter adds: “We consider it a great compliment to offer a commission in this regiment, and do not wish you to make the offer unless it is likely to be accepted. We mean to make it a model regiment.” Colonel Lee responded promptly to this appeal, sending the officers asked for, and recommending several others for the same service. In a postscript to his letter to Governor Andrew, under date of Feb. 27, 1863, he says: “I believe the regiment is a mine of military wealth to the State; and if my belief is correct, the object which its officers have always had in view and labored to accomplish is attained, and they may well thank you for the privilege they have enjoyed in being instrumental in such a result.”

The first instalment of officers was soon followed by others, at the special request of Colonel Shaw. In one of several letters written on this subject, Colonel Shaw says (April 8, 1863): “If you send me such officers in future as those who have already come from your regiment, there is no doubt of my having a well-drilled and well-disciplined regiment. They are all excellent officers, and —— is one of the most efficient of men.”

The result of this then novel and doubtful experiment more than realized, as is well known, Governor Andrew's enthusiastic expectation; and it is a great pleasure to remember the important

[note]



contributions made by the Forty-fourth to the equipment of these first colored regiments recruited under State authority. In the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, as the tabular statements will show, were eventually one colonel, one lieutenant-colonel, twelve captains, and seven lieutenants from the Forty-fourth.1 One of these was brevetted brigadier-general for gallant service at the battle of Honey Hill, S. C., where he was severely wounded and supposed at the time to have been killed. A correspondent of a Southern paper (“Savannah Republican,” Dec. 3, 1864), in an account of this disastrous engagement, says: “We made a visit to the field the day following, and found the swamp and road literally strewn with the dead. Some eight or ten bodies were floating in the water where the road crosses, and in a ditch on the roadside just beyond we saw six negroes piled one on top of the other. A colonel2 of one of the negro regiments, with his horse, was killed while fearlessly leading his men across the creek in a charge.”

In the assault upon Fort Wagner of July 18, 1863, the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts led the column, and lost, besides its heroic colonel, two of the young men, Russel and Simpkins, who had so recently been sent them from the ranks of the Forty-fourth. Cabot J. Russel entered Harvard College with the class which graduated in 1865, and was accompanying a scientific party in a trip over the Western prairies, when the seven days’ battle before Richmond inspired him with a desire to enter the army, where some of his friends had already fallen. He enlisted as a private in the Forty-fourth Regiment, and had become sergeant of Company F, when the request for officers came from Governor Andrew. Sergeant Russel was one of the first three recommended by Colonel Lee for this service, and received his commission as first lieutenant of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, March 23, 1863. May 11 he became captain. In both regiments he showed himself an admirable soldier, and drew his comrades and officers to him by his frank and engaging personal qualities. In the Fifty-fourth he rendered excellent service in drilling the

[note]



new recruits, and his company became noted for its thorough discipline. He gave himself with the utmost fidelity to his work, being anxious only that his black soldiers should do themselves credit and justify by their behavior the experiment which the Government was making. He was with them just long enough to see them tried in one severe engagement where, out of seventy men, forty-five were lost, and where he was fully satisfied by their soldierly conduct. He wrote to his father in the last letter received from him, “My men did nobly.” Their young commander also did nobly, according to the testimony of his brother officers, one of whom wrote afterwards that “Captain Russel took part in the sharp skirmish on James Island, July 16, where his company bore the brunt of the battle, and he showed distinguished ability and courage.” Two days after this, in the fatal assault on Fort Wagner, when again his company held the most dangerous post, he displayed the same coolness and gallantry, and fell at the head of the assaulting column and was left upon the field. It was learned afterwards that the officers and soldiers of the negro regiments were buried together by the Confederates in a common trench.1 “No stone need mark the place where his bones moulder,” says his biographer, “for future generations will reverently point to the holy ground where the colonel and two captains of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts were buried with their soldiers.”2

The other captain was W. H. Simpkins, an intimate friend of Russel's in both regiments, who was killed while in the act of ministering to his comrade in his dying moments. Simpkins, Russel, and Sergeant G. W. James formed a little group of kindred spirits in Company F of the Forty-fourth Regiment, who had talked over together the question of employing colored troops long before the experiment was first tried, and all of whom were ready to engage in the work as soon as officers were called for. They all won for themselves an enviable record during their brief service; two of them were killed together at Fort Wagner, while James, the adjutant of the regiment, was severely wounded in the same battle, and has since died.

[note]



In regard to those killed in other regiments than the Fifty-fourth, the following facts have been obtained: —

A. W. Bussell, Company K, re-enlisted in the Massachusetts Fifty-eighth, and was killed at Petersburg, Va. W. D. Crane, Company D, a member of the class of 1863, Harvard College, re-enlisted June 7, 1863, in the newly recruited colored regiment (Massachusetts Fifty-fifth), was commissioned first lieutenant and immediately afterwards captain, served with conspicuous gallantry in the South Carolina campaign, and was killed at Honey Hill, S. C., while acting as aid and chief of staff to Colonel A. S. Hartwell. He died Nov. 30, 1864, when just entering his twenty-fifth year.1 Edward L. Stevens, Company E, member also of the class of 1863, Harvard College, was commissioned second lieutenant of the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth, Jan. 31, 1864, and first lieutenant, Dec. 16, 1864, and was killed in the front of battle at Boykin's Mills, S. C., April 18, 1865, in his twenty-third year. He is supposed to have been the last Union officer killed in the war.2 Corporal Samuel Storrow, Company H, member of the class of 1864, Harvard College, was commissioned first lieutenant in the Massachusetts Second, Sept. 22, 1864, and died March 16, 1865, in his twenty-second year, of wounds received near Fayetteville, N. C., while acting as aid to Brigadier-General Cogswell. In a letter to Lieutenant Storrow's father, General Cogswell says:

“My brigade had been engaged with the enemy nearly all day, and at about four o'clock P. M. Mr. Storrow was wounded while carrying an order to the left of the brigade, and died in about fifteen or twenty minutes afterwards. He was not insensible when first wounded, and he had the coolness and self-possession to send word to me that he was wounded, that he had carried out my instructions, and also sent me the information that I had wished for. . . . Allow me to claim in part this loss as my own, for neither in my old regiment nor in my present command can I replace him.”3

Stephen H. Parker, Company I, became sergeant of the Massachusetts Fifty-ninth, and died of wounds received in battle in 1864. Benjamin P. Chandler, Company I, died of disease in Florida. James M. Foss, Company I, also became sergeant of

[note]



the Massachusetts Fifty-ninth, and died of disease. Charles Wood, Company G, became sergeant-major of the Massachusetts Fifty-sixth, and died of disease. Clifton H. Vose, Company D, became sergeant of the Massachusetts Fifty-eighth, and died in prison in South Carolina, Oct. 28, 1864. Lowell E. Hartshorn, Company K, re-enlisted in the Massachusetts Fifty-eighth, and died in Andersonville Prison Dec. 17, 1864. Walter L. Raymond, Company G, re-enlisted in the First Massachusetts Cavalry, and died in prison in Salisbury, N. C., Dec. 25, 1864. Albert W. Townsend, Company G, re-enlisted in a New York regiment, and died in prison in Florence, S. C.

The full list of officers and men, so far as known, who reenlisted in other regiments, will be found in the “Roster.”

It is hard to part from these pleasant companions. To go over this list of the departed, and recall the still fuller list of their comrades who have survived them, is to live over again the delightful nine months’ intercourse which for so many of us constitutes one of the happiest memories of our lives. No pastor could ask for a more interesting, intelligent, or wide-awake parish than the ranks of the Forty-fourth Regiment afforded for quite too brief a pastorate. The vicissitudes of campaigning were apt to make short work, it is true, of the usual ministerial functions; but only to substitute other and more personal relations of quite as engrossing a kind. I am not alone in counting that close companionship with such a buoyant, eager, high-minded, and high-hearted body of youths one of the kindest strokes of good fortune that could have befallen me. Even nine months of army life, in barracks, on provost-guard, and in the field, test the real quality of officers and soldiers; and it was gratifying to all connected with the Forty-fourth to see how well they bore the trial both of action and of idleness. I cannot aver that there was no complaining in camp or on the march, or no criticism of military plans or military management. With such acute observers in the ranks, no official blundering or incompetence was likely to pass unnoticed; and the tedium of inaction or weariness of the tramp was not unlikely to be relieved by frank and pungent comments which showed an alarming amount of thinking. This is not the ideal composition of an army, perhaps;





and the question often arose among us as to the relative efficiency of regiments endowed with brains throughout and those which carried only muscle and sinew in their ranks. Yet in our case the grumbling was of a very innocent kind, and even colonels and major-generals were known to smile at the good-natured satire and badinage which anticipated Gilbert and Sullivan, and found an excellent safety-valve in comic opera. The spirit of insubordination never found entrance into the Forty-fourth. Their soldierly recognition of authority and submission to the strictest discipline were as marked as the light-heartedness which would have served them in far sterner tasks than any to which they were called. General Foster is quoted as saying of this regiment, while on its first expedition, that “they were the gayest of all the troops, and greeted him with cheers whenever he came in sight.”1 Brigadier-General Wessells, one of the toughest of regular army officers, whose order on taking leave of the Forty-fourth will be found in another chapter, offered unequivocal testimony to the discipline and good conduct of this portion of his command. A later communication from this same officer, dated May 29, 1876, in answer to an invitation to a company reunion, says: “I well remember that glorious regiment when I had the honor to call it a part of my command, and its fine appearance in line; and it is pleasant to trace the footsteps of those who did such good service to the regiment and to their native State.”

In the quiet hours in barracks at New Berne, on picket, or on provost duty in the city, the companies maintained a good behavior, and heartily seconded, for the most part, the strict precepts and example of the regimental headquarters in the matter of temperance. The chaplain can testify that in these peaceful interludes the ample regimental library was generously patronized, and that at all times the mail-bags, going and coming, were portentously full. The list of details from the regiment for detached service at department or brigade headquarters, covering the most varied occupations, from the taking of a census of the black population of New Berne, or the drafting of topographical plans, to nursing at the general hospital, shows something of the varied talent of which the regiment was composed.

[note]



The great number of officers, as already shown, which it supplied to other regiments, with their honorable record of service, testifies to its soldierly quality and admirable discipline.

The wisdom of calling out troops for nine months’ service, subjecting them to army discipline, and bringing them to a fine state of efficiency only to scatter them to their homes again, or of placing side by side with veteran troops, enlisted for the war, these creations of a summer day, may well be questioned, and was nowhere more seriously debated, I am sure, than among the nine months’ troops themselves. But whatever our opinion on this point, it must be remembered that to enlist for nine months, at that juncture, seemed to be enlisting for the war; and that the call was issued on the distinct understanding that such large and immediate additions to the army would certainly hasten the desired end. When the Forty-fourth was organized, no bounties had been offered or were thought of; and its recruits went into the ranks with just as serious a purpose, and with quite as full expectation of active and constant service, as any before or after them. They had no knowledge where they should be sent, and no thought or choice about it, but assumed, as a matter of course, that they would be placed where the need was greatest and the peril most imminent. Any disappointment or chagrin that they felt was rather in consequence of the unimportance of the service required of them than because of its hardships or dangers. The folly of the measure itself, if folly it was, is not to be visited upon those who responded in perfect good faith, and with absolute loyalty, to the nation's eager appeal for aid. Certainly during that year of the war no difference was known, in the duties imposed, the discipline exacted, or the work required, between the regiments of the longest and those of the shortest terms.

It is pleasant, after so many years have passed, to bear this testimony to one at least of these nine months’ regiments. Without instituting any comparison with other organizations, or claiming the slightest superiority for my own, I wish only to offer this tribute to the fidelity, the loyalty, the high spirit, and pure aims, of the soldiers of the Massachusetts Forty-fourth.





CHAPTER XV. SUBSEQUENT SERVICE.

IT is generally considered that the enlistment of troops for short terms was a mistaken policy. They were hardly perfected in drill and discipline, and inured to the hardships of army life, before they were discharged, and their places in the field were filled by raw troops, who had to go through the same experience to fit them for efficient service.

But although the short-term regiments did not remain in the field as organizations, very many of their men returned to the army in other regiments, and through these veterans the nine months’ troops contributed most permanently to the efficiency and strength of our armies.

The following roll shows how many Forty-fourth men re-enlisted, and presents the honorable record of their subsequent service. In this record their first regiment can take a pardonable pride, as the number of commissioned officers in the list, and the evidence of fidelity and bravery shown in the casualties in action, speak well for the school in which these veterans received their soldierly education.

Although instances of re-enlistment may have escaped the notice of the compiler, it is believed that this list comprises





nearly all who went back into the service in any capacity. To summarize: —

Total number re-enlisted [with rank as follows]173
Colonel and Brevet Brigadier-General1
Lieutenant-Colonel1
Majors2
Captains24
First Lieutenants25
Second Lieutenants15
Assistant Surgeons3
Non-commissioned Officers48
Privates46
Ensign U. S. Navy1
Assistant Paymasters U. S. Navy2
Assistant Engineer U. S. Navy2
Master-at-Arms U. S. Navy1
Mate U. S. Navy1
Captain's Clerk U. S. Navy1

Casualties.
Killed in action or died of wounds9
Wounded16
Died prisoners of war3
Died from disease1
Discharged for disability2
31

STAFF.

Hinckley, Wallace. First Lieutenant and Adjutant. Was discharged May 29, 1863, and commissioned First Lieutenant and Adjutant 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, and served with his regiment until June 8, 1865, at Fort Macon, N. C. After he was mustered out he remained on the island for some time settling his accounts, and in the early part of August was seized with typhoid fever, and died Sept. 4, 1865. His death was very sudden, as he had been pronounced convalescent by the physicians and was supposed to be on the road to recovery. His body is buried in the old cemetery at Hingham, Mass.

The following, written by one of his school friends, is so appreciative that it is inserted here.

“Six months at a military school made him a proficient in the manual of drill; and when the loyal drums beat to arms in 1861, he offered his services in instructing the raw levies which the city of Lowell had then





got together. The renown subsequently won by the company which he drilled will always cast a reflex lustre on the memory of its gallant young tutor. Returning to his studies, it was not long before he was called upon to draw his sword in good earnest. The great heart of Massachusetts was thrilled by a prayer from the Government for help; and foremost among the choicest youth of the Commonwealth who,

‘Stepping like Homer at the trumpet's call,’

crowded under the banners of the famous Forty-fourth, was young Hinckley. Scarcely eighteen, he was at once appointed Adjutant. Ardently loving the profession of arms, he was now in his element. His exact and thorough knowledge of his duties, his intense devotion to his work, and moreover his handsome person contributed to make him the most brilliant officer of that brilliant regiment. . . .

“His life was short, but in twenty years he accomplished as much as most men in fifty. We may regret that the brilliant promise of his youth was prevented by death from the fulfilment of a glorious manhood; but the lofty words of one of the prophets of the Elizabethan age, rolling to our ears from the past like the thunder-peal of an organ, proclaims that ‘’t is immortality to die aspiring.’ ”

Non-commissioned Staff.

Gifford, Frederic S.Quartermaster Sergeant. Previous service, Q. M. Sergt. 3d Mass. Vol. Militia, from April 23 to July 22, 1861. Second Lieutenant 6th Unattached Company Mass. Heavy Artillery. First Lieutenant 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery, July 11, 1864. Resigned April 20, 1865.

Company A.

Barker, Eben Francis. Corporal. First Lieutenant 75th U. S. C. T., December, 1863; Captain, January, 1865; discharged November, 1865, on expiration of service.

Bellows, Henry Hudson. Private. Private Co. D, Frontier Cavalry, Jan. 2, 1865; discharged June 30, 1865, on expiration of service.

Conant, John H.Private. First Sergeant 29th Unattached Company Heavy Artillery, Sept. 19, 1864. Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., May 1, 1865; First Lieutenant, July 11, 1865; mustered out as Acting Adjutant, Aug. 20, 1865, on expiration of service. Died at Cambridge, June 16, 1868.

Cragin, George Nathan. Private. Corporal Co. A, 5th Mass. Infantry, July 25, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Fuller, Albert. Private. Sergeant Company D, 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Aug. 22, 1863. Discharged — no date given. The record of Volunteers shows he was promoted Quartermaster Sergeant; but his name does not appear among the non-commissioned staff.





Richardson, James Mirick. Captain. First entered the service as Captain 21st Mass. Infantry, Aug. 21, 1861; resigned July 25, 1862; was wounded during siege of “Little” Washington while on a scouting party, March 30, by two bullets through left arm. Second Lieutenant 12th Unattached Company Mass. Heavy Artillery (afterwards 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery), July 16, 1863; Captain, Nov. 16, 1863; Major, Nov. 16, 1864; mustered out Sept. 18, 1865. Brevetted Lieutenant-Colonel U. S. Vols. from March 13, 1865. Died at Boston, Oct. 7, 1878.

Whipple, Alonzo Lyman. Private. Private Co. H, 3d Heavy Artillery, Dec. 4, 1863; discharged September, 1865, on expiration of service.

Company B.

Brooks, George William. Private. Private Co. K, 42d Mass. Infantry, July 18, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Clapp, David C.Private. Sergeant 1st Unattached Company Infantry, April 29, 1864; discharged Aug. 1, 1864, on expiration of service. Second Lieutenant 8th U. S. C. T., March 10, 1865; discharged Dec. 9, 1865, on expiration of service.

Demond, Alpheus. Private. Corporal Co. F, 60th Infantry M. V. M., July 20, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Gillespie, William. Sergeant. Was commissioned Second Lieutenant 2d Maine Cavalry while in the 44th, but served out his original enlistment. Remained in the Maine Cavalry “until Confederacy busted.”

Harding, Nathan Francis. Private. Private 11th Mass. Battery, Jan. 2, 1864; discharged June 16, 1865, on expiration of service.

Mansfield, Theodore Francis. Private. Private Co. F, 5th Infantry M. V. M., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Read, Henry Franklin. Private. Private Co. I, 2d Mass. Cavalry, Aug. 20, 1864; discharged May 8, 1865, on expiration of service.

Soule, Charles Carroll. Second Lieutenant. First mustered into U. S. service as First Lieutenant and Adjutant of 4th Battalion of Infantry M. V. M., May 25, 1862, but the battalion not being needed, was mustered out June 1, 1862. Captain 55th Mass. Infantry, June 19, 1863; slightly wounded in the arm at the battle of Honey Hill, S. C., Nov. 30, 1864. Brevetted Major, to date from March 13, 1865, but declined the brevet; mustered out with regiment, Aug. 29, 1865.

Teague, Frank W.Corporal. Second Lieutenant 78th U. S. C. T., Dec. 19, 1863. Discharged Jan. 6, 1866, on expiration of service. Died at St. Louis, Aug. 17, 1866.





Company C.

Bryant, Albert. Private. Corporal 1st Unattached Company Infantry, April 29, 1864; discharged Aug. 1, 1864, on expiration of service.

Cootey, Philip I.Corporal. Captain Co. F, 5th Mass. Infantry, July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Cunningham, Charles A.First Sergeant. Second Lieutenant 2d Heavy Artillery, June 4, 1863; First Lieutenant, April 18, 1864; mustered out Sept. 19, 1865, on expiration of service. Died at South Boston, April 5, 1874.

Drew, Arthur. Private. Private Co. A, 42d Infantry M. V. M., July 14, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Hedge, William. First Lieutenant. Declined commission in 20th Mass. Regiment.

Horton, Andrew T.Private. Corporal Co. C, 61st Mass. Vols., Sept. 5, 1864; discharged June 4, 1865, on expiration of service.

Jones, Irving. Private. Private in Signal Corps, U. S. A., March 29, 1864; discharged Aug. 16, 1865, on expiration of service.

Jones, Sylvester Allen. Private. Corporal Co. K, 59th Mass. Vols., Aug. 21, 1864; discharged June 13, 1865, on expiration of service.

Monroe, Theodore James. Private. First Sergeant Co. E, 56th Mass. Infantry, Jan. 12, 1864; discharged June 25, 1865, on expiration of service. Subsequently enlisted as Hospital Steward, 9th Corps, U. S. A.; afterwards appointed Hospital Steward, U. S. A.; resigned February, 1866.

Morse, George Julius. Private. Corporal Co. F, 5th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Proctor, George. Private. Corporal 1st Unattached Company Infantry, April 29, 1864; discharged Aug. 1, 1864, on expiration of service.

Richmond, William Thomas. Private. Enlisted in Signal Corps, U. S. A., and served until close of war.

Trescott, Edward Whiting. Private. Sergeant Co. F, 5th Infantry M. V. M., July 12, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Walker, Eugene Clifford. Private. Private in 2d Battery, Feb. 12, 1864; discharged Aug. 11, 1865, on expiration of service.

Whittemore, Curtis H.Corporal. Second Lieutenant 5th Mass. Cavalry, July 7, 1864; First Lieutenant, Dec. 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 31, 1865, on expiration of service.

Willard, Edward Augustus. Private. Private 11th Mass. Battery, Dec. 2, 1864; discharged June 16, 1865, on expiration of service.





Company D.

Bates, Daniel Dwight. Private. Landsman, U. S. Navy; discharged as Assistant Master-at-Arms, U. S. Navy, June, 1865, on expiration of service.

Beal, Charles W.Private. First Sergeant, Co. A, 42d Mass. Infantry, July 14, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Beal, George W.Private. Sergeant Co. B, 60th Mass. Infantry, July 11, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Brewster, James Bartlett. Private. Early in 1864 was attached to the Relief-rooms of the Sanitary Commission in Boston, as Surgical dresser. Assistant Surgeon 2d Division, 9th Army Corps, Army of the Potomac, June 1, 1864; stationed at White House and on the James during the summer campaign.

Carter, George Henry. Sergeant. Second Lieutenant 55th Mass. Vols., Nov. 15, 1864; First Lieutenant, June 25, 1865. Brevetted Captain U. S. Vols., to date from March 13, 1865; discharged Aug. 29, 1865, on expiration of service.

Crane, Edward W.Private. Declined commission in 55th Mass. Vols., dated June 9, 1864. Died at Marshfield, Mass., May 21, 1886.

Crane, William Dwight. Private. First Lieutenant 55th Mass. Vols., June 7, 1863; Captain Co. I, June 19. Killed at the battle of Honey Hill, S. C., Nov. 30, 1864.

The following was written by a brother officer, one of Crane's former playfellows, and like himself a graduate of Harvard College: —

“He was first commissioned as a Lieutenant, but gained his captaincy before muster-in, by hard work and soldierly aptitude. We were barracked together in July, 1863, and from that time until his death were rarely separated.

“It was a pleasure to be with and watch him — square, sturdy, fresh, and handsome soldier that he was — through the desert heats of Folly Island, the toilsome fatigue of the trenches before Wagner, the malarious picket details on marsh and sand-hill, the fervid drills upon the sea-beach, the sickness and weariness of the autumn of 1863, the mingled rest and activity of the succeeding winter, and the toilsome Florida marches of February, 1864.”

At the battle of Honey Hill, Nov. 30, 1864, Crane was acting aide and chief-of-staff to Col. Hartwell, commanding the brigade of which the 55th formed a part.

“At the charge on the enemy's batteries along a narrow road, exposed to canister at close range from seven guns, and in the focus of an infantry fire from over a thousand rifles, he was slain. I have heard that he was instantly killed by a shot through the head, and attracted





the attention of the Rebels, who held the field after the battle, by his fine, handsome face and touching attitude. He was honorably buried, — so we learn from participants in the battle, — both out of respect for his bravery, and because of his being a newly made Freemason. In probity, singular purity of life and conversation, in upright manliness and military talent, I know of no young man who could surpass the brave soldier who thus met death and an unmarked grave, not in victory, but in defeat. It was a sad loss to us who remained. The men of his company almost idolized him.” — Harvard Memorial.

Goff, William Cullen. First Lieutenant Co. F, 5th Infantry M. V. M., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Hemenway, Augustus A.Private. Band-master 4th Mass. Cavalry, March 1, 1864; discharged Nov. 14, 1865, on expiration of service. Drowned Aug. 30, 1872, at wreck of steamer “Metis” off Watch Hill, Conn.

Hobart, George Henry. Private. Sergeant Co. A, 42d Mass. Vols., July 4, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Howard, Willard. Private. Discharged for promotion at New Berne, April 26, 1863. Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., May 13, 1863; First Lieutenant, May 31, 1863. Slightly wounded at assault on Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863. Acting Adjutant, November, 1863; Adjutant, March 1, 1864; Captain, Dec. 3, 1864; discharged Aug. 2, 1865, on expiration of service.

Jacobs, Augustus. Private. First Sergeant Co. F, 5th Mass. Vols., July 12, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Littlefield, Henry Warren. Private. Second Lieuteuant 54th Mass. Vols., May 11, 1863; First Lieutenant, Oct. 7, 1863; resigned Feb. 9, 1865, on account of wounds received at battle of Olustee, Fla., Feb. 20, 1864.

Nourse, Harrison. Private. Corporal Co. D, 6th Mass. Infantry, July 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Simonds, Joseph Warren. Private. Private in Co. E, 8th Mass. Infantry, July 19, 1864; discharged Nov. 10, 1864, on expiration of service.

Sturtevant, Charles Whitmore. Private. Commissary-Sergeant Co. L, 1st Mass. Cavalry, Jan. 6, 1864; discharged June 26, 1865, on expiration of service.

Tripp, George Leighton. First Sergeant. First Lieutenant Co. H, 6th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service. Died at Alfred, Me., March 13, 1867, of disease contracted during service.

Tuttle, Horace P.Private. Discharged April 26, 1863, for disability. Assistant Paymaster in United States Navy, July 2, 1864, and served several years.





Vose, Clifton Henry. Private. First Sergeant Co. F, 58th Mass. Infantry, April 20, 1864. Died at Rickersville Hospital, S. C., Oct. 28, 1864, while prisoner of war; was buried at Charleston, S. C.

Company E.

Adams, William Robert. Corporal. Sergeant Co. H, 6th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Bradish, Albert Henry. Private. Second Lieutenant 55th Mass. Vols., Feb. 11, 1864; Acting Post Ordnance officer at Palatka, Fla., during the stay of the regiment at that point; resigned June 27, 1864, for disability.

Brewster, Warren Joshua. Private. Discharged Sept. 30, 1862, for disability. Afterwards re-entered the service (particulars of which cannot now be learned) and served for a time on staff of General Cooke, in the West.

Cartwright, James Weld. Corporal. Second Lieutenant 56th Mass. Vols., July 30, 1863; First Lieutenant, Nov. 21, 1863; Captain, May 17, 1864; mustered out July 12, 1865, on expiration of service. Wounded May 12, 1864, at Spottsylvania, and again, April, 1865, at Petersburg, Va., slightly in left hand and right shoulder.

Cross, Henry Clay, Private. Private in 1st Tennessee Home Guards, 1864, and served until end of war.

Derby, Oliver Carpenter. Private. Sergeant Co. H, 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Nov. 20, 1863; discharged Sept. 18, 1865, on expiration of service.

Hight, Henry Ormand. Corporal. Second Lieutenant 82d U. S. C. T., Nov. 12, 1863; discharged Captain, Sept. 16, 1866, on expiration of service. Brevetted Major for gallantry at siege of Fort Blakely, April, 1865.

Homer, Henry Augustus. Sergeant. Declined commission in 51st Mass. Vols. Captain 19th Mass. Vols., April 22, 1865; discharged June 30, 1865, on expiration of service. Died at Cambridge, Mass., Dec. 11, 1875.

Joy, Charles Frederick. Private. Sergeant Co. F, 2d Heavy Artillery, Oct. 8, 1863. Transferred as Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., Sept. 30, 1864; First Lieutenant, March 30, 1865; Captain, July 17, 1865; discharged Aug. 20, 1865, on expiration of service.

Kent, Fred. Augustus. Private. Captain's clerk in U. S. Navy, and served four years.

King, Benjamin Flint. Private. First Lieutenant Co. B, 18th U. S. C. T., Dec. 7, 1863. Appointed Judge Advocate, on staff of Gen. George L. Andrews. Resigned Aug. 10, 1864, on account of ill health. Died at Boston, Jan. 24, 1868, of heart disease.





Livermore, William Belden. Private. Corporal Co. H, 6th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service. Died at Charlestown, Mass., Sept. 23, 1870.

Myers, John Henry, Jr.Private. Sergeant in Co. H, 4th Mass. Cavalry, Feb. 8, 1864; discharged Nov. 14, 1865, on expiration of service. The squadron to which he was attached carried the first national colors into Richmond. Died Jan. 21, 1873.

Newell, James Shuttleworth. First Lieutenant. First Lieutenant 5th Mass. Cavalry, Dec. 29, 1863; Captain, Feb. 15, 1865; discharged Oct. 31, 1865, on expiration of service.

Park, Charles Stuart. Private. Declined Second Lieutenant's Commission 56th Mass. Vols. Acting Assistant Paymaster, U. S. Navy, from November, 1864, to August, 1865.

Patten, Thomas Henry. Private. First Sergeant Co. I, 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Dec. 11, 1863; Second Lieutenant, Jan. 17, 1865; discharged Sept. 3, 1865, on expiration of service. Feb. 22, 1865, was appointed Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., but declined commission.

Plimpton, Merrill Francis. Private. First Sergeant Co. C, 56th Mass. Vols., March 1, 1864; commissioned Second Lieutenant, July 1, 1865, but not mustered; discharged July 12, 1865, by Special Order No. 162, War Department, Washington, D. C. Wounded by a buck-shot at Petersburg, June 17, 1864, and again by a fragment of a shell in the thigh, and in the hand by a bullet, at the mine explosion, July 12, 1864.

Robbins, James Arthur. Private. Private Co. E, 57th Mass. Vols., Feb. 18, 1864; promoted Quartermaster Sergeant; discharged July 30, 1865, on expiration of service.

Stevens, Edward Lewis. Private. Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., Jan. 31, 1864; First Lieutenant, Dec. 16, 1864. Killed April 18, 1865, at Boykin's Mills, S. C. He is believed to have been the last Union officer killed during the war. THe remains of Lieutenant Stevens, and of Corporal Johnson of his regiment, were disinterred July 29, 1885, and re-interred in the National Cemetery at Florence, S. C.

Tucker, Charles Edward. Corporal. Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., May 13, 1863; First Lieutenant, May 28, 1863; Captain, Feb. 3, 1864. Wounded by a bullet in temple and ear at the assault on Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863; mustered out Aug. 20, 1865, on expiration of service.

Walcott, George Phinney. Private. Sergeant Co. F, 5th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Wallace, Edwin Ashley. Private. Sergeant Co. C, 56th Mass. Vols., Dec. 28, 1863; First Lieutenant, Oct. 22, 1864; taken prisoner at North Anna River, and was in prison at Andersonville six months;





exchanged at Millen, Ga., and rejoined his regiment at Petersburg; discharged July 22, 1865, on expiration of service.

Wheelwright, George William, Jr.Sergeant. Discharged Sept. 30, 1862; was appointed by the city of Roxbury as Assistant Sanitary Agent, in which capacity was with the Roxbury men in the Army of the Potomac several months, until obliged to give up on account of sickness. In January, 1863, sailed for New Berne in the “Frye;” rejoined the Forty-fourth as volunteer and acted as Colonel's orderly on the Plymouth expedition. On the day of the Grand Review, February 26, was taken to the Stanley Hospital sick, and left New Berne for the North, March 16, 1863.

White, Edward Peters. First Sergeant. Second Lieutenant 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, June 4, 1863; First Lieutenant, Aug. 14, 1863. Served for some time on staff of General Palmer; resigned Jan. 7, 1865.

Whitney, William Lambert, Jr.Private. Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., Dec. 4, 1864; First Lieutenant, June, 1865; Acting Adjutant, April, May, and June, 1865; discharged Aug. 20, 1865, on expiration of service.

Worthley, James Cushing. Private. Sergeant Co. H, 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Nov. 20, 1863; Second Lieutenant, July 25, 1865; discharged Sept. 18, 1865, on expiration of service.

Company F.

Atkins, Francis Higginson. Private. Medical Cadet U. S. A. 1863-64; Acting Assistant Surgeon U. S. Navy, Admiral Farragut's Squadron, 1864; practising physician until 1873; Acting Assistant Surgeon, U. S. Army, from June, 1873, to 1884.

Bartlett, Edward Jarvis. Private. Second Lieutenant 5th Mass. Cavalry, July 1, 1864; mustered out Oct. 31, 1865, on expiration of service.

Cogswell, Edward Russell. Sergeant. Declined commission in 18th Mass. Vols.

Cook, Charles Edward. Private. Sergeant Co. F, 5th Mass. Vols. July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Dodge, Frederic L.Private. Second Lieutenant 18th N. H. Vols., March 22, 1865; mustered out July 29, 1865, on expiration of service. Second Lieutenant 23d Regt. U. S. Infantry, March 7, 1867; First Lieutenant, Jan. 22, 1873. Still in service.

Goodwin, Frank. Private. First Lieutenant 55th Mass. Vols., June 7, 1863; Captain, July 20, 1863. Wounded at battle of James Island, S. C. Brevetted Major, for “gallant and meritorious conduct;” mustered out with regiment, Aug. 29, 1865.

Hartwell, Alfred Stedman. First Lieutenant. First entered the service





Corporal 3d Mo. Vols., May, 1861; Captain 54th Mass. Vols., March 16, 1863. Transferred, Lieut.-Col. 55th Mass., May 30, 1863; Colonel, Nov. 3, 1863. At battle of Honey Hill, S. C., Nov. 30, 1864, while leading a charge, his horse was killed and fell on him. While thus helpless and wounded in the hand, he would have been left to fall into the hands of the enemy but for the bravery of Lieutenant Ellsworth, who turned back under a terrific fire, and while one of the men, who was killed the next minute, partly lifted the horse and thus released him, the lieutenant dragged the colonel across the ditch into the woods, and then to the rear. In thus going from the field Hartwell was hit three times by spent balls, but Ellsworth escaped unharmed. Brevetted Brig.-Gen. U. S. Vols. for “gallant services at the battle of Honey Hill, S. C.;” discharged April 30, 1866, on expiration of service.

Hoyt, Henry Morris. Private. Sergeant Co. E, 6th Mass. Vols., July 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

James, Garth Wilkinson. Sergeant. Sergeant James was discharged for promotion, March 31, 1863. He was commissioned First Lieutenant and Adjutant of the 54th Mass. Vols., March 23, and mustered in April 24. The following sketch of his career is from the pen of a brother officer in the 54th:—

“Adjutant James was with the regiment at Readville and Beaufort, S. C; St. Simons and Darien, Ga.; St. Helena Island and James Island, S. C.; always on duty, cheerful, active, and a universal favorite for his endearing qualities of heart and mind. Of the part he took in the assault on Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863, I have his own account; and in it he says that ‘when we received the first discharge of the enemy's cannon’ his action was as follows: ‘Gathering together a knot of men after the suspense of a few seconds, I waved my sword for a further charge towards the living line of fire above us. We had gone then some thirty yards, but determinedly onwards, the ranks obliquely following the swords of those they trusted,’ etc. James states that ‘at the chevaux-de-frise in front of the ditch . . . I received another wound, — a canister-ball in my foot;’ having just after receiving the enemy's first fire been wounded in the side by a shall. Having dragged himself away some distance, some ambulance men of the 54th found him and took him to the rear. He was sent North, to his home in Cambridge. Finding himself after a number of months still unfit for duty, he finally resigned Jan. 30, 1864. . . . His longing for active service caused him to apply for a commission. Stronger, but still a sufferer, and limping as he did throughout the rest of his life from the wound in his foot, on Dec. 3, 1864, he was re-commissioned as First Lieutenant in the 54th, then near Devaux's Neck, S. C. But he was unable to do duty as a line officer, and was appointed Acting A. D. C. on the staff of Colonel E. N. Hallowell of the 54th, then commanding the Second Brigade of General J. P. Hatch's





‘Coast Division.’ Lieutenant James was commissioned Captain of Company C, March 30, 1865, and mustered as such, May 12, 1865. He was with General Gilmore's staff at Georgetown, S. C., about April 2. He was mustered out with the 54th, Aug. 20, 1865. He was a sufferer all his life from his wounds, and died at Milwaukee, Wis., March, 1883, aged thirty-eight. Thus passed away one of the sweetest, most lovable of men; a brave soldier, and the truest, most constant of friends. To those who knew him in the old days it is needless to say how free he was from the caprices and humors of most men. His smile was always bright, his words cheery and genial, his manner polished and winsome.”

Jones, Edward Lloyd. Corporal. First Lieutenant 54th Mass. Vols., May 13, 1863; Captain, May 14, 1863; took an active part in the assault on Fort Wagner, S. C., July 18, 1863, where he was severely wounded, from the effects of which he never recovered; mustered out Dec. 16, 1864. Died at Templeton, Mass., Jan. 3, 1886.

Kent, Barker B., Jr.Private. First Sergeant 1st Unattached Company, M. V. M., April 29, 1864; discharged, Aug. 1, 1864, on expiration of service. Captain Co. G, 60th Regt. M. V. M., July 28, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service. Died at Boston, Feb. 2, 1873.

Lathrop, William Henry. Private. Medical Cadet at Satterlee Hospital, Philadelphia, August, 1863, where he remained until October, 1864, when he was appointed Acting Assistant Surgeon, U. S. Army, and was assigned to duty at the Depot Field Hospital of the 2d Corps at City Point and Alexandria, Va; served there until May 20, 1865. Assistant Surgeon in the 55th Mass. Vols., June 14, 1865. When the regiment returned home, Aug. 29, 1865, he was mustered out at Charleston, S. C., to take a commission as Acting Assistant Surgeon, U. S. Army, which he retained until Nov. 1, 1866.

Mitchell, Frank A.Private. Second Lieutenant 56th Mass. Vols., Sept. 5, 1863; First Lieutenant, May 17, 1864; wounded at the battle of the Wilderness; discharged for disability, March 13, 1865. Was subsequently commissioned Captain and Brigade Quartermaster.

Morse, Charles Fairbanks. Musician. Musician 3d Heavy Artillery. Died Nov. 21, 1878.

Perkins, William Edward. Sergeant. Second Lieutenant 2d Mass. Vols., Jan. 26, 1863; First Lieutenant, July 7, 1863; Captain, March 7, 1865; mustered out July 14, 1865. Died at Boston, Jan. 18, 1879. The following extract is from an appreciative obituary notice in the Boston “Advertiser:”—

“Most suddenly and unexpectedly has he been taken from our midst. Few men of his age have been better known. He was graduated at Harvard in the class of 1860. William at first entered the service as a Sergeant in Co. F, Forty-fourth Regiment, but when his term of service





was half over, he obtained a commission as Second Lieutenant in the famous 2d Mass. Infantry. On the 3d of May, 1863, he was wounded at the battle of Chancellorsville. He rejoined his regiment on the evening of the last day of fighting at Gettysburg. With the 2d Mass. Infantry he went to the West in the fall of 1863; and in 1864 he shared in the Atlanta campaign, and in the famous march to the sea. He was with the regiment in the march through the Carolinas, was at the battles of Averysborough and Bentonville, at the former of which his captain, the gallant Ingersoll Grafton, was killed, and he was present at the surrender of Gen. Johnston. After the war he took up again his legal studies, which the war had interrupted, and he shortly after commenced practice in Boston. He was always ready, however, to give up his time, and his practice even, at the call of political duty. He served for some years in the common council and the legislature, and in both capacities he made himself known and felt as a hard-working, clear-headed, sensible man. . . . He was a thoroughly manly man. His character was one of great simplicity and sweetness. He was unselfish, perfectly ingenuous, giving his friendship unreservedly, and always the same. There was nothing suspicious or exacting about his friendship. He was a fast friend, and he attached his friends very closely to him, and his name will long be affectionately remembered.”

Pope, George. Sergeant. Captain 54th Mass. Vols., May 11, 1863; severely wounded at the assault on Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863. Major, Dec. 3, 1864; Lieut.-Col., July 11, 1865; mustered out with regiment, Aug. 2, 1865.

Russel, Cabot Jackson. Sergeant. Captain 54th Mass. Vols., May 11, 1863. Killed at the assault on Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863. The New York “Evening Post” says:—

“One of the notable features of our war is the development of character, energy, and heroism in our young men. Beardless lads have exhibited proofs of mature capacity, and endurance worthy of veterans. One of the leaders of the ‘Charge of the Dark Brigade’ at Fort Wagner was Captain Cabot Jackson Russel, of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment (Colonel Shaw's colored regiment). This youth, scarcely nineteen, after serving with the Massachusetts Forty-fourth in North Carolina, was offered a captaincy in Colonel Shaw's regiment, and at that notable charge he led his men gallantly to the parapet of the Rebel intrenchments, and fell wounded in the hottest of the fight. . . . Captain Russel's manly bearing and excellent qualities endeared him strongly to his friends. He gave evidence of precocious abilities as an officer, and his early career was full of promises of honorable distinction.”

Simpkins, William Harris. Corporal. Captain 54th Mass. Vols., May 11, 1863. Killed at the assault on Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863. The following is from the Shaw “Memorial”:—





“These two young men [Simpkins and Russel], one not yet twenty-four and the other only nineteen, served together in Company F, Forty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, for the nine months’ term, returning a short time before the regiment in order to take commissions in the Fifty-fourth.

“Let us give due honor to the men who sought commissions in the first negro regiment from such motives as theirs. Captain Simpkins wrote from New Berne when his name was selected for a commission: ‘I have now to tell you of a pretty important step that I have just taken. I have given my name to be forwarded to Massachusetts for a commission in the Fifty-fourth (negro) Regiment, Colonel Shaw. . . . This is no hasty conclusion, no blind leap of an enthusiast, but the result of much hard thinking. It will not be at first, and probably not for a long time, an agreeable position, for many reasons too evident to state; and the man who goes into it resigns all chances in the new white regiments that must be raised. . . . If I am one of the men selected, why should I refuse? I came out here, not from any fancied fondness for a military life, but to help along the good cause.’ This was the letter of a youth to whom a military life was distasteful, but who, following his idea of duty, had fitted himself for it by careful study so well that, as captain in the Fifty-fourth, he commanded the respect as well as affection of his brother officers, who say he would have adorned the high position which only death prevented his attaining. . . . The writer of this knew Captain Simpkins. His sweet and manly nature, his clear and strong intellect, made his friendship dearly prized by all who knew him well; but only those nearest to him recognized under his natural modesty of character the possible hero whose life became complete and glorious on the bastion of Fort Wagner.”

The story of the return of Captain Simpkins's pistol to his family several years after the war is too interesting to be omitted.

In September, 1875, the following letter appeared in the Boston “Globe.”

Office of R. A. W. James, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, Dyersburg, Tenn., Sept. 25, 1875.

To the Editors of the Globe.

Gentlemen, — I have in my possession a six-inch Smith & Wesson repeating pistol, upon the handle of which is engraved “Captain W. H. Simpkins, Fifty-fourth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, from J. L.”

I took it from the body of a dead Federal officer on the 27th of June, 1864, at the salient on the Kenesaw Mountain line, Georgia.

As this is the era of reconciliation between the Gray and the Blue, and as the gallant officer may have relatives or friends who would appreciate a memento of him, I am anxious to restore it to them if they will place themselves in communication with me.

Believing that a mention of this, if published in your paper and copied throughout your State, might lead to inquiries by the friends of the deceased officer, I anxiously ask its insertion. My address is

R. A. W. James, Dyersburg, Tenn.





This letter soon came to the notice of Captain Simpkins's father, the late John Simpkins, Esq., of Jamaica Plain, who opened a correspondence with Major James, which resulted in the return of the pistol, accompanied by the following generous letter:—

Office of R. A. W. James, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, Dyersburg, Tenn., Oct. 27, 1875.

John Simpkins, Esq., Boston, Mass.

Dear Sir, — Your favor of 3d inst. came to hand in due course of mail, and I would have replied to it sooner, but for an extraordinary press of business. I forwarded the pistol by mail, according to your instructions, about a week ago, and hope that you have received it. I wish I could place you in possession of such information as would enable you to trace it back to your son, but I am afraid I shall never be able to do so. On the 27th June, 1864, the Confederate line occupying the salient to the left of Kenesaw Mountain was attacked by a Federal division whose number and commander I have forgotten, but you can ascertain by reference to almost any history of the late war. Am sorry I have none at hand to which I could refer and inform you. The attack was a terrible one, and the fighting, at one time, almost hand to hand. The attacking division, after a desperate charge, which was unsuccessful, retired. Expecting a countercharge, a number of our troops advanced a short distance in front of the Confederate works, where I took the pistol from the body of an officer whose rank I either did not notice or have forgotten. He must have been a gallant fellow, — probably a friend and comrade of your son, — for his body was not more than twelve or fifteen feet from the Confederate works and surrounded by heaps of dead comrades.

Receiving no orders to charge, and the firing in a few moments becoming again heavy, those of us who had advanced beyond the works retired into them again, and the firing continued almost unremittingly until on the 29th — I believe it was — a truce was had and the dead between the lines were buried. The body of the officer I mention was lying partially on a beautiful stand of colors, which bore the name of some regiment, I presume, — I know there was some inscription on it. The colors were picked up and subsequently presented to General Hardee, to whose corps I belonged. General Hardee gave the colors back to the captor and told him to give them to his sweetheart. I knew the man; his name was Woltz, and he resided in Midway, East Tennessee, but I have not heard of him since the close of the war, except that he has left Midway. General Hardee is dead, as you perhaps know, and I know of no means of ascertaining to what regiment the colors belonged, unless indeed some of my comrades in arms, who are now widely scattered, should remember, which I think improbable.

The vicissitudes of the campaign of North Georgia were such that minor circumstances in engagements were soon forgotten except by those particularly affected by them. If I could ascertain to what regiment the colors belonged, — and Woltz could tell that, — it might possibly





furnish a clew which would lead to the name of the officer, for I think he and the colors belonged to the same regiment.

Any information I may hereafter be able to obtain touching the matters of which you inquire I will communicate to you. I shall preserve your kind letter as a memento but little less dear to me than the pistol to you. I only care to remember the late war in so far as it teaches its participants to respect each other's feelings, honor each other's bravery and magnanimity, and love each other's common mother country. Hoping to hear from you again, and that you have received the pistol, I have the honor to be

Yours fraternally, R. A. W. James, Formerly Major 11th Regt. Tenn. Infantry, C. S. A.

Note. — It will be seen that the pistol has had an eventful history: First belonging to a Federal officer at his death, it fell into the hands of the Confederates. It then passed into the possession of a Federal soldier, when and where we can probably never know, and then it once more passed into the possession of a Confederate officer in the manner related. The weapon is in fine condition, and has evidently been carefully preserved.

Soule, Charles Carroll. Private. Served as private in Co. F from October 6 to October 22, when he was transferred to Company B as Second Lieutenant. (For subsequent service, see Company B.)

Tewksbury, George H. Private. Corporal Co. H, 6th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Tweed, William Henry. Private. Corporal Co. A, 42d Mass. Vols., July 14, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Weld, George Minot. Sergeant. Declined commission in 18th Mass. Vols.

Weston, George. Private. Second Lieutenant 18th Mass. Infantry March 4, 1863. Died at Boston, Jan. 5, 1864, of wounds received at Rappahannock Station, Va., Nov. 7, 1863.

Weston left the company before its term of service expired, leaving behind him the memory of a man always prompt and brave in every duty, and of a singularly bright and cheery disposition. One of his comrades and former classmates writes lovingly of him:—

“Weston had been a good private soldier, and he made an admirable officer, — cheerful and bright when in health, uncomplaining and patient in sickness, and in the march and on the battlefield the soul of fortitude and courage. . . . But the strength of his character was, after all, in the exquisite kindliness and geniality of his nature. This it was which made him so universally a favorite. His sunny humor was a sort of intellectual outgrowth of those traits of his moral nature, and seemed to answer perfectly to that definition of a great writer which makes humor to consist of ‘love and wit.’ Among his friends Weston's name was almost a synonym for sunshine.” — Harvard Memorial.





Woodward, George Moore. Private. First Lieutenant 55th Mass. Vols., June 7, 1863; Captain, July 27, 1864; severely wounded in the leg at the battle of Honey Hill, S. C., Nov. 30, 1864; mustered out with regiment, Aug. 29, 1865.

Company G.

Adams, John. Private. Private Co. K, 57th Mass. Infantry, April 6, 1864; discharged July 30, 1865, on expiration of service.

Adams, Warren Whitney. Private. First Lieutenant Co. B, 60th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Allen, Walter Balfour. Private. Private Co. B, 11th Mass. Vols., Aug. 31, 1864; discharged June 4, 1865, on expiration of service.

Bunker, Nathaniel Wyeth. Private. Private Co. I, 56th Mass. Vols. March 10, 1864; Second Lieutenant July 1, 1865, but not mustered; discharged July 12, 1865, on expiration of service.

Chase, Loring Augustus. Corporal. Sergeant Co. F, 5th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 16, 1864, on expiration of service.

Delano, William C.Private. Private 11th Mass. Battery, June 2, 1864; Discharged June 16, 1865, on expiration of service.

Gardner, James Francis. Sergeant. First Lieutenant in Washington, D. C., Rifles, from June 1, 1864, to July, 1865.

Hersey, Andrew J.Private. Sergeant Co. H, 3d R. I. Cavalry, April 15, 1864; discharged Nov. 29, 1865, on expiration of service.

Hersey, Jacob H.Private. Sergeant Co. H, 3d R. I. Cavalry, April 15, 1864; discharged Nov. 29, 1865, on expiration of service.

Hobbs, Seth J.Private. Third Assistant Engineer, U. S. Navy. He was last seen in the Mediterranean, on board of a United States man-of-war.

Hodges, Almon Danforth, Jr.Private. Second Lieutenant Co. B, 42d Mass. Infantry, July 20, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Holt, Ballard, 2d. Private. Private Co. B, 11th Mass. Infantry, Aug. 26, 1864; discharged June 4, 1865, on expiration of service.

Lane, Thomas J.Private. Quartermaster Sergeant 4th Mass. Cavalry, Feb. 18, 1864; Second Lieutenant May 11, 1865; First Lieutenant Aug. 9, 1865; discharged Nov. 14, 1865, on expiration of service.

Le Cain, Charles Lamont. Private. Corporal Co. H, 6th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Lipp, Leodegar M.Private. Second Lieutenant 56th Mass. Infantry, July 30, 1863; First Lieutenant Nov. 21, 1863; Captain, Sept. 21, 1864; discharged July 12, 1865, on expiration of service.





Merrill, Thomas Tobie. Private. Private 4th Unattached Company Infantry, May 3, 1864; discharged Aug. 6, 1864, on expiration of service. Private Co. D, 1st Frontier Cavalry, Jan. 2, 1865; discharged June 30, 1865, on expiration of service.

Perkins, Ezra. Private. Second Lieutenant Co. G, 60th Infantry M. V. M., July 19, 1864; discharged Nov. 20, 1864, on expiration of service.

Powers, Stephen Ambrose. Corporal. Sergeant Co. I, 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Dec. 25, 1863; discharged Sept. 3, 1865. After the war was in U S. Marine Corps for several years.

Priest, John Dodd. Corporal. Second Lieutenant 56th Mass. Vols., July 30, 1863; First Lieutenant, May 17, 1864. Died at Georgetown, June 22, 1864, from a wound received while on the skirmishline at “Salem Church,” May 31, 1864.

The following extract from the letter of a brother officer, written hurriedly from the field, shows the regard in which he was held by the members of his regiment:—

“It on this occasion becomes a duty, though a sorry one, to communicate to you the fact that my dear friend and fellow-officer, your devoted son, was last evening, in an action with the enemy, wounded by a bullet in the groin.

“I did not see him, as I did not come to the rear until late at night. He was sent to the rear in an ambulance, and will probably have a furlough to go home. Poor words of mine cannot properly express the feeling of regret with which the fellow officers and soldiers of this command part with Lieutenant Priest. He is a son to be proud of, a man to be admired, a soldier whose conscientious bravery is an example for officers and men to follow.

“He is on the eve of promotion, which is merited in a high degree. You have my heartfelt sympathy in his illness, but I hope to see him with us again in his new rank which he has so gloriously earned.”

Raymond, Walter Landor. Private. Private Co. L, 1st Mass. Cavalry, Jan. 6, 1864. Died Dec. 25, 1864, of pneumonia, at Salisbury, N. C., while prisoner of war.

Sawyer, Lyman J.Private. Private Co. C, 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Oct. 6, 1863; deserted Jan. 27, 1864.

Townsend, Albert W.Private. Enlisted in a New York regiment. Died at Florence, S. C., January, 1865, while prisoner of war.

White, James Cushing. First Lieutenant. Captain 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Aug. 14, 1863; discharged Sept. 3, 1865, on expiration of service.

Wood, Charles. Private. Sergeant-Major 56th Mass. Infantry, Dec. 28, 1863. Died Feb. 5, 1864, at Readville, Mass.





Company H.

Bolles, George B.Private. Corporal Co. F, 5th Mass. Infantry, July 20, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Bumpus, Everett C.Private. First enlisted as private in Co. C, 4th Regt. M. V. M., April 22, 1861 (company commanded by his father); discharged July 22, 1861, on expiration of service. Second Lieutenant 10th Co. Heavy Artillery, Sept. 1, 1863. Afterwards attached to 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery. First Lieutenant Oct. 28, 1864; discharged Sept. 18, 1865, on expiration of service.

Dawes, Richard Cranch. Private. Acting Ensign, U. S. Navy, Dec. 14, 1863; resigned Jan. 11, 1867.

Hersey, John W.Private. Sergeant Co. D, 60th Infantry M. V. M., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Higgins, Benjamin. Private. Private Co. M., 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Aug. 26, 1864; discharged June 17, 1865, on expiration of service.

Higgins, George Allen. Private. Private 11th Mass. Battery, Jan. 2, 1864; discharged June 16, 1865, on expiration of service.

Howe, Albert Richards. Second Lieutenant. Second Lieutenant 5th Mass. Cavalry, Dec. 17, 1863; 1st Lieutenant, Jan. 7, 1864; Captain, Jan. 18, 1864; Major, Feb. 16, 1865; mustered out Oct. 31, 1865, on expiration of service. Died of heart disease, at Chicago, June 1, 1884.

Moore, Matthias J.Private. First Sergeant 14th Mass. Battery, Feb. 27, 1864. Wounded at Crossing of North Anna River. Second Lieutenant, Jan. 25, 1865; discharged June 16, 1865, on expiration of service. Died at Northfield, N. H., Nov. 15, 1885, aged 52 years.

Moulton, Granville W.Private. Private Co. A, 2d Mass. Cavalry, Feb. 26, 1864; discharged July 25, 1865, on expiration of service.

Nash, Osborn Preble. Private. Private in Signal Corps, U. S. Army, March 30, 1864. Served at New Orleans, Natchez, Vicksburg, and on the Mississippi River; discharged Aug. 3, 1865, on expiration of service.

Packard, Elisha. Private. Corporal Co. B, 60th Mass. Vols., July 16, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Peabody, Lyman Everett. Private. Private Co. M, 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Aug. 27, 1864; discharged June 17, 1865, on expiration of service.

Rennard, George Washington. Private. Private Co. G, 58th Mass. Vols., March 26, 1864; discharged July 13, 1865, on expiration of service.

Sawyer, Willard G.Private. Private Co. C, 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Oct. 6, 1863; deserted Jan. 27, 1864.





Smith, William V.Captain. First entered the service as Second Lieutenant 18th Mass. Vols., Aug. 20, 1861. Resigned June 11, 1862. Captain 7th U. S. C. T., Oct. 22, 1863. Discharged with brevet rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, Oct. 22, 1866.

Storrow, Samuel. Private. First Lieutenant 2d Mass. Infantry, Sept. 22, 1864; died of wound received at Averysboro’, N. C., March 16, 1865. (See Harvard Memorial Biography.)

Weeks, George M.Private. Private Company G, 56th Mass. Infantry, Jan. 19, 1865; discharged June 30, 1865, on expiration of service.

Company I.

Burbank, Alonzo F.Private. Corporal Co. E, 6th Mass. Infantry, July 18, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Chandler, Benjamin Parker. Private. Acting Civil Engineer in U. S. Navy, attached to the Pensacola Navy Yard. Died there Sept. 12, 1874, of yellow fever.

Copithorne, William. Private. Private Co. A, 40th New Jersey Infantry, March 10, 1864; discharged July 25, 1865, on expiration of service.

Currier, Hugh Legare. Private. Private 11th Mass. Infantry, Sept. 7, 1864; discharged June 4, 1865, on expiration of service. Died at Everett, Mass., Dec. 29, 1879.

Fletcher, Warren Gilman. Private. Private 11th Mass. Battery, Jan. 2, 1864; discharged June 16, 1865, on expiration of service.

Foss, James Madison. Private. Sergeant Co. I, 59th Mass. Infantry, Aug. 2, 1864. Died Nov. 4, 1864, at McDougal Hospital, New York.

Jones, Henry Brown. Sergeant. First Lieutenant 11th Unattached Company Heavy Artillery (afterwards 3d Mass. Heavy Artillery), Oct. 21, 1863. Resigned for disability, Dec. 22, 1864.

Macomber, Henry Seymour. Corporal. Sergeant Co. H, 6th Infantry M. V. M., July 16, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Newell, Julius T.Private. Second Lieutenant 4th Heavy Artillery, Aug. 16, 1864; First Lieutenant, Feb. 18, 1865. On duty at Richmond and Manchester, Va., and for a while served on staff of Gen. Carey; discharged June 17, 1865, on expiration of service.

Parker, Stephen Henry. Private. Sergeant Co. D, 59th Mass. Infantry, Feb. 9, 1864. Died July 30, 1864, of wounds received at Petersburg, Va.

Poole, Francis H.Private. Enlisted as seaman in U. S. Navy, Sept. 21, 1863. Promoted mate, and was on duty on U. S. S. S. “Wabash,” at Charlestown Navy Yard, for several years. Died at Wellesley, Mass., Dec. 4, 1886.





Pratt, George Henry. Private. Sergeant Co. E, 56th Mass. Infantry, Jan. 12, 1864; discharged July 12, 1865, on expiration of service.

Purbeck, Marcellus Augustus. Private. Private in Signal Corps, U. S. Army, March 29, 1864; discharged Aug. 26, 1865, on expiration of service.

Rhoades, Lawrence. Private. Was discharged from the regiment at New Berne, to remain with Capt. J. A. Goldthwait, District Commissary, June 4, 1863. Was appointed Commissary of Subsistence, U. S. Vols., with rank of Captain, July 2, 1864; mustered out Aug. 22, 1865. Brevet Major, U. S. V., March 26, 1865, “for faithful and meritorious services during the campaign against the city of Mobile and its defences.” Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel, U. S. V., March 26, 1865; and brevet Colonel, U. S. V., March 28, 1865, “for faithful and meritorious services during the war.”

Taylor, William A.Private. Sergeant Co. K, 4th Mass. Cavalry, March 1, 1864; discharged Nov. 14, 1865, on expiration of service. Died at Boston, Dec. 4, 1878.

Tilden, Joseph. Sergeant. Second Lieutenant 54th Mass. Infantry, April 1, 1863; First Lieutenant, May 13, 1863. Transferred to 55th Mass. as Captain, May 27, 1863; discharged for disability, July 14, 1863; served as A. A. G. on staff of General Pierce during the draft riots in Boston. Died at Honolulu, H. I., July 9, 1885, in consequence of injuries received at fire.

Tyler, Herbert. Private. Sergeant Co. A, 42d Mass. Vols., July 14, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Company K.

Bailey, Walter. Private. First enlisted in regular army, Jan. 3, 1861. Sent with the reinforcements to Fort Sumter, and was on duty during the bombardment under Major Anderson. Upon surrender of the fort was sent to New York, and assigned to Co. H, 2d U. S. Infantry, and took part in the battle of Bull Run. Discharged by civil authority, being under age. In the fall of 1863, re-enlisted in Co. C, 1st Vermont Cavalry. Wounded in front of Winchester, Nov. 12, 1864, while on picket, and discharged soon afterwards.

Bussell, Alfred W.Private. Private Co. G, 58th Mass. Infantry, March 26, 1864. Killed at Petersburg, Va., July 12, 1864, while acting as color-sergeant.

Dorr, John. Sergeant. First Lieutenant Co. G, 60th Mass. Infantry, July 19, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Fisher, Albert. Private. Private Co. L, 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, Dec. 22, 1863; discharged Sept. 3, 1865, on expiration of service.

Fisher, Nathan Warren. Private. Private Co. K, 42d Infantry





M. V. M., July 18, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Gilmore, Luman W.Private. Private 16th Mass. Battery, May 11, 1864; discharged June 27, 1865, on expiration of service. Received spinal injury at Fairfax Court House.

Gould, William A.Private. Corporal Co. F, 5th Infantry M. V. M., July 20, 1864; discharged Nov. 30, 1864, on expiration of service.

Gray, Charles L.Private. Private in Co. K, 42d Infantry M. V. M., July 18, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Hartshorn, Lowell Ebenezer. Private. Private Co. A. 56th Mass. Infantry, Dec. 26, 1863. Died while prisoner of war at Andersonville, Ga., Dec. 17, 1864.

Jessup, William A.Private. Private Co. K, 42d Mass. Infantry, July 18, 1864; discharged Nov. 11, 1864, on expiration of service.

Jones, Dennis Hartwell. Private. Enlisted in 44th Regt. at the age of sixteen. First Lieutenant 55th Mass. Infantry, June 19, 1863. Killed accidentally, March 23, 1864.

Keen, Jarius P.Private. Private Co. E, 56th Mass. Infantry, Jan. 12, 1864; discharged July 20, 1865, on expiration of service.

Loring, Frank Minot. Private. Private in Co. B, 6th Infantry M. V. M., July 17, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Moulton, Edward C.Private. Corporal Co. F, 59th Mass. Infantry, Feb. 20, 1864. Killed at the battle of the Wilderness, May 6, 1864.

Rhoades, Charles J.Private. Corporal Co. K, 6th Mass. Infantry, July 14, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Trout, Thomas K.Private. Private Co. A, 6th Mass. Infantry, July 15, 1864; discharged Oct. 27, 1864, on expiration of service.

Wentworth, George Augustus. Private. Private in Co. G, 2d Mass. Cavalry, March 31, 1864; discharged June 28, 1865, on expiration of service. Wounded in the head by a sabre-cut, at battle of Aldie, July 6, 1864.





APPENDIX.









APPENDIX.
RIOT.

NOT long after the muster out of the Forty-fourth Regiment the draft riots occurred, and it was called together by the following order: —

Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Headquarters, Boston, July 14, 1863.

Special Order No. 393.

Colonel Lee, Forty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia, will cause his regiment to assemble at their armory, Boylston Hall, forthwith, and await further orders.

By order of the Commander-in-Chief.

Wm. Schouler, Adjutant-General.

So many men had gone away on business or pleasure that our ranks were far from full, but all who were within call responded promptly. The regiment remained on duty till the 16th, when they were dismissed by the following order: —

Headquarters, Faneuil Hall Square, Boston, July 21, 1863.

Special Order No. 6.

Colonel F. L. Lee, commanding Forty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia, and Colonel Charles R. Codman, commanding Forty-fifth Massachusetts Volunteer Militia, are hereby ordered to dismiss their respective commands until further orders. In issuing this order the general commanding is desired by his Excellency the Governor to express to them, their officers and men, his thanks for their prompt response to the call of duty and the admirable manner in which they have performed it.

Every duty has been performed to the entire satisfaction of the commanding general.

By command of R. A. Peirce, Brigadier-General. C. J. Higginson, A. A. G.





The last order entered in the regimental order-book relates to the draft riots, and refers to sending out pickets and reconnoitring parties. There is a postscript in Colonel Lee's own handwriting, — the first time it appears in the book, — which is very characteristic to those who knew him well: —

“Enjoin upon the officers to save the detachments on duty as much fatigue as possible.”





ASSOCIATION.

NEARLY every year since the return of the Forty-fourth some of the companies have been in the habit of holding reunions,—among them C, D, E, and F. Companies C, E, and F are regularly organized, but Company D never formed an association, although it elected officers at each meeting. At the reunion of the latter company, December, 1875, the subject of forming a regimental association was broached and discussed, and by vote of those present the secretary was authorized to call a meeting at Parker's, Jan. 13, 1876, of all former members of the regiment, to consider the subject. About sixty responded; and after several questions had been asked and suggestions made, the constitution as reported by a self-constituted committee was adopted, and the vote passed to form an association. The officers elected were: Colonel F. L. Lee, president; Adjutant E. C. Johnson, treasurer; Corporal James B. Gardner, secretary. The constitution provides that any former member of the regiment who has been honorably discharged may become a member of the Association by the payment of one dollar. This constitutes a life membership, as there are no assessments.

The first annual meeting was appointed for December 14, the fourteenth anniversary of the battle of Kinston. As many of our men wished to come together earlier, a special meeting was arranged for March 14, the anniversary of the battle of New Berne. At this special meeting there were one hundred and thirteen members present. Annual meetings have been held





regularly since 1876, and latterly the third Wednesday of January has been the date selected.

On Sept. 17, 1877, the regiment paraded,—probably for the last time as a regiment,—on the occasion of the dedication of the Soldiers’ Monument. Lieutenant Colonel Cabot was in command, and one hundred and sixty-four members answered at roll-call.

At the annual meeting in 1880 a committee was appointed to act with similar committees from the other regiments of our brigade to arrange for a brigade reunion. The Twenty-fourth Massachusetts and Tenth Connecticut did not appoint committees; but the Fifth Rhode Island and ours made the necessary arrangements, and delegates were present from the regiments first named. The reunion was held at Rocky Point on July 30, about four hundred being present.

On Aug. 29, 1882, the regiment celebrated the twentieth anniversary of its going into camp, by a gathering at the Point of Pines, quite a delegation from the Fifth Rhode Island being present as invited guests.

Soon after the election of Wm. Garrison Reed to the secretaryship he suggested the idea of securing for the Association portraits of our field and staff, and of our brigade, division, and corps commanders. His suggestion met a favorable response, the necessary expenses were promptly subscribed, and at the annual meeting in 1883 the pictures were exhibited to the members of the regiment. They are in crayon, and were drawn by Mr. Charles Stanford. Generals Foster, Wessells, and Stevenson, Adjutant Hinckley, and Colonel Sisson are framed singly, and hang in one of the private dining-rooms at Young's. The large picture of the field and staff is stored, except when brought out at the regimental reunions. The portrait of General Thomas G. Stevenson was presented by his brother, General Robert H. Stevenson, and that of Adjutant Hinckley by his father, Isaac Hinckley, Esq., of Philadelphia.

At the annual reunion in January, 1885, Comrades Reed and McIntire gave an account of their recent trip to North Carolina, and by aid of a stereopticon exhibited views of many places which were familiar to us when we were wearing the blue.





The officers of the Association have been as follows:—

PRESIDENTS.
Colonel F. L. Lee1876Sergeant G. B. Macomber1882
Lieutenant-Colonel E. C. Cabot1877Private C. J. McIntire1883
Captain S. W. Richardson1878Adjutant E. C. Johnson1884
First Lieutenant Wm. Hedge1879Captain C. Storrow1885
Second Lieutenant C. C. Soule1880Private E. C. Bumpus1886
First Sergeant A. C. Pond1881

VICE-PRESIDENTS.
E. C. Cabot, Charles Hunt, George B. Lombard1876
S. W. Richardson, W. V. Smith, W. Hedge1877
H. D. Sullivan, J. W. Cartwright, W. Hedge1878
W. A. Simmons, A. D. Stebbins, A. B. Wetherell1879
C. J. McIntire, A. C. Pond, C. Storrow1880
F. G. Webster, George Pope, F. S. Gifford1881
C. W. Chamberlain, R. C. Waterman, H. W. Hartwell1882
E. C. Johnson, George L. Keyes, W. C. Cotton1883
H. D. Sullivan, Theodore M. Fisher, C. Storrow1884
John Parkinson, W. H. Alline, William Gillespie1885
A. S. Hartwell, L. W. Rogers, George B. Lombard1886

EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE.
Company A.
H. W. Hartwell1876
F. D. Montgomery1877
L. W. Rogers1878
E. R. Rand1879
A. W. Edmands1880
J. A. Wallace1881
C. H. Bailey1882
F. F. Gibbs1883
J. E. Gott1884
S. A. F. Whipple1885
G. F. Wellington1886
Company B.
S. A. Walker1876
G. L. Keyes1877
A. B. Wetherell1878
C. C. Soule1879
J. S. Barrows1880
W. Gillespie1881
G. W. Brooks1882
E. D. Farnum1883
C. C. Patten1884
H. N. Hyde1885
C. W. Knight1886
Company C.
A. C. Pond1876
G. R. Rogers1877
W. Ware1878
A. Cutting1879, 1884
W. H. Alline1880
E. C. Burrage1881
C. E. Barker1882
H. S. Bean1883
J. W. Small1885
W. C. Cotton1886
Company D.
H. D. Sullivan1876
W. K. Millar1877, 1881
George Sawin1878





I. W. Moody1879
E. A. Messinger1880
W. H. Neal1882
S. S. Bartlett1883
Henry Howard1884
J. B. Gardner1885
E. B. Hosmer1886
Company E.
C. E. Tucker1876
J. J. Wyeth1877
G. Russell1878
G. P. Walcott1879
J. B. Rice, Jr.1880, 1881
Leslie Millar1882
J. P. Flagg, Jr.1883
G. W. Wheelwright1884
W. R. Adams1885
W. S. Wilder1886
Company F.
A. W. Denny1876
G. B. Macomber1877
E. N. Hewins1878, 1881
D. Cobb1879
J. F. Dean1880
G. F. Jones1882
R. E. Ashenden1883
J. M. Gibbs1884
H. B. Coburn1885
J. W. Hayward1886
Company G.
George Ellis1876
T. J. Lawrence1877
F. G. Webster1878
C. J. McIntire1879
Samuel May1880
P. S. Yendell1881
E. S. Fisher1882
F. P. Adams1883
W. C. Clapp1884
H. Newhall1885
Jonathan Dorr1886
Company H.
F. M. Mears1876
R. Maguire1877
E. H. Adams1878
C. A. Hovey1879
E. C. Bumpus1880
J. W. Hersey1881, 1883
H. Merriam1882
G. A. Murray1884
E. Packard1885
O. P. Nash1886
Company I.
C. Sumner1876
R. Loudon1877
B. F. Field, Jr.1878
B. F. Adams1879
J. T. Shackford1880
J. McCrillis, Jr.1881
T. Pinkham1882
W. A. Gaylord1883
J. L. Eldridge1884
H. B. Jones1885
H. N. Bridges1886
Company K.
H. A. Thomas1876, 1881
C. Chenery1877
John Dorr1878, 1885
W. H. Lord1879
R. H. Weld1880
J. Parkinson1882
Manning Emery1883
F. W. Reynolds1884
I. N. Meserve1886
At Large.
T. W. Fisher1876
J. W. Cartwright1877
A. Jacobs1878
W. C. Ireland1879
F. S. Gifford1880
C. Hunt1881
J. R. Kendall1882
G. R. Rogers1883
J. Owens1884
Fred. Odiorne1885
W. B. Allen1886





At the time of going to press three hundred and thirty-nine have joined the Association.

At the annual meeting, Jan. 20, 1886, the treasurer showed a balance on hand in the general fund of $508.65; and the trustees of the Permanent Fund, its nucleus being the old regimental fund which had been in the hands of the colonel since the war, at time of the transfer amounting to $875.86, reported on hand $1,972.68.

It is to be hoped that the Association will continue so long as a single member can answer “Here” at roll-call.









ROSTER.

To the members of the Forty-fourth the Roster will undoubtedly be one of the most interesting features of the Record. The plan of arranging the names in alphabetical order, without reference to company or rank, was one of the first matters agreed upon after it was determined to compile a regimental history (1879), and is, we think, original with this Committee.

A great deal of time has been devoted to ascertaining the present addresses and occupations of the members. Every one whose address is here given has replied to communications sent him; or, as letters sent in “request” envelopes to the given address have not been returned, we presume it to be correct. As residences and occupations are being constantly changed, it is of course practically impossible to have the Roster absolutely perfect, but it is believed that it will be found essentially reliable.

Where the date of muster is not given, it was Sept. 12, 1862; and where date of discharge is not stated, it was June 18, 1863.

Readers noting errors, omissions, or changes will confer a favor if they will notify J. B. Gardner, 23 Crawford Street, Roxbury, Mass., so that the official Roster of the Regimental Association may be kept at all times as nearly correct as possible.





ROSTER FOR THE FORTY-FOURTH MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENT.
Name.Rank.Co.Age at Enlistment.Enlisted from.Last known Residence.Last known Occupation.Remarks.
Abbott, Charles F.CorporalB19NewtonDied ——
Achorn, Albion G.PrivateK36Walpole
Adams, Alden J.PrivateG19DorchesterManatee, Fla.Stock and Oranges
Adams, Benjamin F.PrivateI24BostonBostonGrocer
Adams, CharlesPrivateD19MedfordSumpterville, Fla.Supposed re-enlisted. In 1866 his overcoat marked Lt.-Col. Adams.
Adams, Edward H.PrivateH25WinchesterDied at Dorchester, April 11, 1879.
Adams, Francis P.PrivateG20BostonBostonGrocer
Adams, George H.PrivateC19BrooklineBostonTheatrical agent
Adams, George H.PrivateE24CambridgeEast Derry, N. H.Farmer
Adams, JohnPrivateG35WinchesterOakhamFarmerRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Adams, Warren W.PrivateG18QuincyQuincyBookkeeperRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Adams, William G.PrivateK20FranklinFranklinChemical Mfr.
Adams, William R.CorporalE23CambridgeCambridgeMerchantRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Allen, OscarPrivateD26Boston
Allen, Walter B.PrivateG33AndoverAndoverSupt. AlmshouseRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Allen, William A.SergeantE23CambridgeChicago, Ill.Wool
Alley, Charles M.PrivateC27LynnClintonBookkeeper
Alline, William H.PrivateC19BostonBostonClerk
Almon, DavidSergeantB29NewtonDied at Newton.
Ames, Daniel E.PrivateC21BostonSomervilleClerk
Anderson, Leonard B.PrivateI23Melrose
Annable, Charles A.PrivateI18BostonBostonSalesman
Ashenden, Richard E.PrivateF25BostonBostonBookkeeper
Ashley, John E.PrivateF34CharlestownDied at Somerville, June 13, 1885.
Atkins, Francis H.PrivateF19CambridgeLas Vegas, N. M.PhysicianRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Atwood, James M.PrivateA25WellfleetNew YorkPrinter
Atwood, William S.PrivateG20ChelseaMaldenClerk
Babbitt, Willard M.PrivateK18WalpoleNewark, N. J.Salesman
Babcock, Ephraim A.PrivateK25Walpole
Babcock, George L.Prin. Mus.25BostonOakland, Cal.Music-teacherActing Band-master.
Babcock, LowellPrivateK25SherbornMedfieldPainter





Bacon, John F.PrivateD29BostonDied at Somerville, May 24, 1884.
Bacon, Samuel A.PrivateD19HarvardHartford, Conn.Bookkeeper
Badger, Willard, Jr.PrivateF29ChelseaDied at Brooklyn, N. Y., Feb. 17, 1873.
Bailey, Calvin C.PrivateG28DorchesterDorchesterProvisions
Bailey, Charles H.PrivateA20BostonBostonDining-saloon
Bailey, WalterPrivateK22NeedhamSharonPainterRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bailey, William H.PrivateH21RoxburyProvidence, R. I.Bookbinder
Baker, Stephen T.WagonerK21Walpole
Baker, Theodore E.PrivateB22NewtonBostonClerk
Balch, Frank W.PrivateF21BostonChicago, Ill.Coal
Baldwin, FrancisPrivateE18WalthamNew YorkSalesman
Bamberg, Frederick B.PrivateB23NewtonBostonWood-carver
Bamford, WilliamPrivateA18N. AndoverDrowned at No. Andover, June 5, 1871.
Bancroft, George F.CorporalD20GrotonOmaha, Neb.R. R. contractor
Banister, Joseph M.PrivateH29FraminghamDischarged March 9, 1863. Disability. Died ——
Barden, Fred S.CorporalC20MarionDied at Marion, March 25, 1865.
Barker, Charles E.SergeantC23BostonBostonWholesale drugs
Barker, Eben F.CorporalA29CharlestownPhiladelphia, Pa.Sec'y Penn. Steel Co.Must. Oct. 8, 1862. Re-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Barker, George G.PrivateD19BedfordWilmington, Del.Dredging
Barnaby, Thomas J.PrivateG23DorchesterElizabeth, N. J.
Barnard, Francis H.PrivateF19BostonFort Wayne, Ind.R. R. agent
Barnes, George W.PrivateH18BostonBostonSalesman
Barnes, Theodore L.PrivateE26WalthamDis. April 3, 1863. Disability. Died at Waltham, April 5, 1864.
Barnes, William A.PrivateH23BostonDied at New Berne, N. C., June 18, 1863.
Barrows, James S.PrivateB21NewtonBostonBookkeeper
Bartlett, Edward J.PrivateF20ConcordBostonWharfingerRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bartlett, Schuyler S.PrivateD21PlymouthBostonClerk
Bass, John A.PrivateA18BostonDied ——
Bassford, Edward P.PrivateB27NewtonSt. Paul, Minn.Architect
Batchelder, Samuel G. A.PrivateB25NewtonDied at Salem, June, 188-.
Bates, Benjamin F.PrivateI22BrewsterBostonClerkDis. April 1, 1863. Disability.
Bates, Daniel D.PrivateD29Northfield, Vt.BostonClerkRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.





Name.Rank.Co.Age at Enlistment.Enlisted from.Last known Residence.Last known Occupation.Remarks.
Bayley, James H.PrivateK21BostonBraintreeBoot manufacturer
Beal, Charles W.PrivateD18BostonBostonCashier B. & A. R. R.Re-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Beal, George W.PrivateD20QuincyBostonClerkRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bean, Harris S.CorporalC23BostonBostonFruit
Beck, John H.PrivateB18NewtonDied at Newton, March 16, 1875.
Bedell, Charles H.PrivateE19BostonBostonClerk
Belcher, Charles A.PrivateB18NewtonDied at Newton, July 10, 1869.
Belcher, Heman H.PrivateH42FraminghamDied at Framingham, Sept. 1, 1872.
Belcher, William H.PrivateB29NewtonDied at Newton, Jan. 24, 1868.
Bellows, Henry H.PrivateA19HollistonHollistonBuilderRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bent, Charles R.PrivateH18BostonCambridgePrinter
Berry, John F.PrivateA25BostonBostonDriverDis. Feb. 14, 1863. Disability.
Berry, RobertPrivateI19BostonDied ——
Bickmore, Albert S.PrivateA23CambridgeNew YorkSupt. Central Park Museum
Billings, George A.PrivateH19FraminghamWatertownAccountant
Billings, Joseph E.PrivateB18NewtonNewton
Bird, James H., Jr.PrivateG28RoxburyBostonAppraiser, C. H.Cl'k Q. M. Dept., Boston, till 1865.
Bird, Thomas H.PrivateI22DorchesterDorchesterVariety store
Bird, William H.Sgt.-Major32RoxburyBostonBookkeeper
Blake, James H., Jr.1st Lieut.D20BostonBostonTrus. Thayer estate
Blanchard, AlvinPrivateD18HinghamDied at Hingham, March 8, 1874.
Blanchard, Edward R.PrivateE19WalthamBostonImporterCorporal Co. M, First Mass. Cav., Oct. 9, 1861. Dis. Dec. 27, 1861, by “civil authority.”
Blanchard, J. AlbertPrivateD19W. CambridgeBostonClerkDis. March 9, 1863. Disability.
Blanchard, TheronCorporalK25WeymouthLynnShoe-stitcher
Blanchard, William L.PrivateE18WalthamBostonWholesale woollens
Bloom, Julius R.PrivateA23BostonBostonMfg. jeweller
Bolles, George B.PrivateH19FraminghamFall RiverClerk Str. “Bristol”Re-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bolles, James T.PrivateC25CambridgeNew YorkPublisher
Boone, Allen F.PrivateH23WinchesterWinchesterMerchantDis. June 5, 1863. Disability.
Bowditch, Asa W.PrivateK27WalpoleSharonCoachman
Bowers, Arthur W.PrivateH20FraminghamDied at Hudson, Oct. 18, 1870.
Bowers, WilliamPrivateK21BostonBostonPrinterDis. Feb. 7, 1863. Disability.





Bowman, Frank F.CorporalE19BostonDedhamPoultry farm
Boyce, GuyPrivateK22SherbornDis. Jan. 14, 1863. Disability. Died ——
Boyd, Moses E.PrivateD21BostonBostonClerk
Boynton, George F.PrivateG20DorchesterDied at New Berne, N. C., Jan. 19, 1863.
Boynton, Martin L.PrivateH22MaldenPepperellButcher
Boynton, Timothy S.PrivateC21FraminghamDied at New Berne, N. C., June 8, 1863.
Bradbury, Walter S.PrivateC22CambridgeDied at New Berne, N. C., Jan. 22, 1863.
Bradish, Albert H.PrivateE18BostonChicago, Ill.BookkeeperRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bradlee, John E.PrivateC31BostonBostonPaints and Oils
Bradt, Charles A.PrivateC18LowellDied at New Berne, N. C., Feb. 19, 1863.
Bradt, Frank O.PrivateC18LowellDis. March 14, 1863. Disability. Died at Lowell, Feb. 24, 1864.
Brady, James W.PrivateB18Newton
Bray, Thomas C.CorporalH24BostonPrescott, Ariz.Merchant
Breed, Henry L.CorporalI25BostonTauntonMustered Oct. 13, 1862.
Brennan, JohnPrivateB35NeedhamNeedhamMachinistDis. Jan. 30, 1863. Disability.
Brewster, James B.PrivateD20PlymouthPlymouthPhysicianRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bridges, Harlin N.PrivateI25BostonBostonR. R. clerk
Briggs, James W.2d Lieut.C23BostonBostonPres. Brunswick Berth Co.
Brigham, William C.Hos. Stew.22New BedfordMedfordDruggist
Brooks, Charles B.PrivateB24NewtonBostonClerk
Brooks, George W.PrivateB17NewtonBostonPaper box mfr.Re-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Brooks, Noah W.PrivateC19DorchesterChicago, Ill.Secretary
Brown, Fred T.1st Lieut.K24W. RoxburyNew YorkBrokerPro. from 2d Lieut., Feb. 26, 1863.
Brown, Frederick T.PrivateA27Malden
Brown, Henry L.CorporalI22WestonWestonFarmer
Brown, Hezekiah N.PrivateG22WaylandSadawga, Vt.Carriage-maker
Brown, Nathan L. C.PrivateG19BostonDied at Boston, Aug. 6, 1863.
Brown, William H.PrivateF21BostonNew YorkSalesman
Brown, William W.PrivateA24SaugusSaugusSole-cutter
Brown, Winslow E.PrivateK30WalpoleAdams, Neb.
Bruce, Rufus C.PrivateH28FraminghamFraminghamWatchman





Name.Rank.Co.Age at Enlistment.Enlisted from.Last known Residence.Last known Occupation.Remarks.
Bruerton, JamesPrivateC19BostonBostonSpecial Agt. Ins. Co.
Bryant, AlbertPrivateC19BostonRe-enlisted. Chapter XV. Died.
Bryant, JohnPrivateE22BostonCharlestownBroker
Buck, Eben R.PrivateB29NewtonDied at New Berne, N. C., June 17, 1863.
Bumpus, Everett C.PrivateH18BraintreeBostonLawyerRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Bunker, Nathaniel W.PrivateG18BelmontCambridgeCarpenterRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Burbank, Alonzo F.PrivateI19CharlestownFaulknerRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Burchsted, Benjamin F.PrivateD25BostonGeorgetown, Fla.Orange-planter
Burchsted, John H.PrivateD23BostonGeorgetown, Fla.Orange-planter
Burrage, Edward C.SergeantC21BostonBostonCrockery
Bush, Francis, Jr.1st Lieut. & Q. M.33BostonDied at Isle of Shoals, Aug. 16, 1874.
Bussell, Alfred W.PrivateK18BostonRe-enlisted. Chapter XV. Killed July 12, 1864.
Butler, Albert L.PrivateA29CambridgeDied from wounds, Dec. 19, 1862.
Butler, HenryPrivateD18GrotonWaverlyTeacher
Butrick, George E.PrivateE18W. RoxburyBostonHack-driverDis. March 9, 1863. Disability.
Butterfield, Edward E.PrivateE22BostonBostonCarpenterMustered Oct. 11, 1862.
Cabot, Edward C.Lt.-Col.44BrooklineBostonArchitect
Capen, Joseph H.PrivateF22BostonDied ——
Carey, Isaac H.PrivateI18WestonBrooklyn, N. Y.Real estate
Carleton, JudsonPrivateB19NewtonSan Francisco, Cal.Clerk
Carpenter, Alfred F.CorporalC20BostonNew YorkMerchant
Carter, George H.SergeantD22BostonRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Cartwright, James W.CorporalE20BostonBostonInsuranceRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Chamberlain, Charles W.SergeantG19BostonBostonWool
Chandler, Benjamin P.PrivateI19DorchesterRe-enlisted. Ch. XV. Died at Pensacola Navy Yard, Sept. 12, 1874.
Chase, Loring A.CorporalG23CantonWinter Park, Fla.Real estateRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Cheeney, Jonathan H.PrivateE18BostonDied at Greenbush, June 13, 1881.
Chenery, CorneliusPrivateK18W. RoxburyBostonTeacher of singing
Chenery, Franklin W.PrivateG19BelmontDied 187-.
Cheny, SamuelPrivateH22BostonCentre Brook, Conn.Ivory goods mfr.
Chickering, Charles C.SergeantD23BostonNew YorkAgent





Child, Frank D.SergeantD20BostonBostonSupt. Loco. Works
Clapp, David C.PrivateB21BostonBostonPrinterRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Clapp, Frank W.PrivateH19HollistonDied ——
Clapp, Henry A.PrivateF21DorchesterBostonClerk of Court
Clapp, William C.PrivateG19DorchesterBostonClerk
Clark, Henry A.PrivateF18So. HadleyDis. Oct. 4, 1862. Disability.
Clark, James F.SergeantA36W. CambridgeLawrenceClerk
Clarke, AmasaPrivateG18AndoverBostonWool
Clarke, Edward H.PrivateB18NewtonSan Francisco, Cal.Clerk
Cleale, ArtemasPrivateK29SherbornSherbornShoe-cutter
Clough, Samuel A.PrivateE24BostonBostonMill Treasurer
Cobb, CyrusPrivateF28BostonBostonSculptor
Cobb, DariusPrivateF28BostonBostonArtist
Coburn, Horace B.PrivateF22BostonBostonMerchant
Coffin, James C.CorporalB18NewtonSan Francisco, Cal.Agt. Plough Co.
Coffin, Jared1st Lieut.A26BostonNew YorkForwarder
Cogswell, Edward R.SergeantF21CambridgeCambridgePhysicianMay 22, 1863, declined commission in Eighteenth Massachusetts.
Cogswell, ThomasPrivateG18AndoverLawrenceExpressman
Colburn, IrvingPrivateF17DoverDoverBootmaker
Colby, George H.PrivateD29BostonDied at Boston, Sept. 13, 1886.
Cole, Richard S.PrivateA22BostonMarshfieldGrocer
Coleman, PatrickPrivateB36NewtonAuburndaleLaborer
Conant, John H.PrivateA20BrightonRe-enlisted. Chapter XV. Died at Cambridge, June 16, 1868.
Conelle, Frank P.PrivateH19Boston
Cook, Charles E.PrivateF22ChelseaBostonForemanRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Cook, John F.PrivateF23ChelseaChelseaConstable
Cooley, William A.PrivateH20CambridgeMaldenUndertaker
Coolidge, George M.PrivateK24SherbornSherborn
Coolidge, George T.PrivateC20BostonBostonBookkeeper
Cooper, J. ArthurPrivateI19WestonBostonClerk
Cootey, Philip I.CorporalC24BostonBrooklyn, N. Y.Builder & R. E. ownerRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Copeland, Ithamar W.PrivateK18DedhamTroy, N. Y.W. U. Tel. Co.Dis. Jan. 14, 1863. Disability.
Copeland, William E.PrivateF24RoxburyOmaha, Neb.Clergyman
Copithorne, WilliamPrivateI18CambridgeBostonBookbinderRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Copp, Austin M.PrivateH20MaldenBostonCoalDis. Oct. 2, 1862. Disability.
Corey, Theodore F.PrivateB25BrightonNorthboroMarket-gardener





Name.Rank.Co.Age at Enlistment.Enlisted from.Last known Residence.Last known Occupation.Remarks.
Corlis, Samuel H.PrivateI26Weston
Cormier, Charles H.PrivateG21BostonDied at Boston, March 5, 1881.
Cotton, Henry W.PrivateH26FraminghamFraminghamPolice officer
Cotton, William C.PrivateC24BostonBostonTreas. Amer. Tube Works
Coughlin, JohnPrivateI21WestonSibley, Iowa
Courtis, A. StacySergeantC22CambridgeKilled at Whitehall, N. C., Dec. 16, 1863.
Coverly, EdwardPrivateI20BostonDied at Malden, Sept. 12, 1876.
Cragin, George N.PrivateA19BostonBostonBoats and OarsRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Crane, Edward W.PrivateD18BostonDied at Marshfield, May 21, 1886. June 9, 1864. Declined commission in Fifty-fifth Massachusetts.
Crane, Zenas A.PrivateB18NewtonDied at Newton Lower Falls, Oct. 12, 1874.
Crane, William D.PrivateD21BostonRe-enlisted. Ch. XV. Killed at Honey Hill, S. C., Nov. 30, 1864.
Creelman, Eliakim T.PrivateA25No. AndoverOsage, IowaFarmer
Crocker, Joseph C.PrivateI18MelroseGreen Cove Springs, Fla.MerchantCl'k in Q.M. Dep. 18th army corps.
Crosby, Edward C.PrivateH25FraminghamFraminghamBleacher and Dyer
Crosby, Henry M.PrivateH23FraminghamNew Haven, Conn.Straw-worker
Cross, Henry C.PrivateE19SaugusSaugusFarmerRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Cumston, James S.2d Lieut.E20BostonBostonPiano-forte mfr.
Cunningham, Charles A.1st Serg.C19BostonDis. May 31, 1863. Promotion. Re-enlisted. Chapter XV. Died at So. Boston, April 5, 1874.
Currier, Charles E.PrivateD21CambridgePhiladelphiaMilk
Currier, George C.PrivateD23CambridgeNew YorkSash and Blinds
Currier, George G.PrivateE18BostonDied at Boston, July 19, 1879.
Currier, Henry H.PrivateI19MaldenDied at Everett, Jan. 9, 1885.
Currier, Hugh L.PrivateI18MaldenRe-enlisted. Chapter XV. Died at Everett, Dec. 29, 1879.
Curry, Andrew H.PrivateH32FraminghamMillvilleTeamster
Curtis, Charles B.PrivateH19QuincyNew YorkImporter





</
Curtis, Edwin H.CorporalC19BostonDied from wounds, Whitehall, N. C., Dec. 16, 1862.
Curtis, Joseph H.PrivateF21WalthamBostonLandscape-engineer
Cushing, Theodore P.PrivateI18Cambridge
Cuthbert, JamesPrivateA20No. AndoverFitchburgMechanic
Cutter, Charles E.PrivateI18WestonWashington, D. C.Real estate
Cutter, Edmund L.PrivateI31WestonDied at New Berne, N. C., April 25, 1863.
Cutter, Frank E.PrivateC22BostonCleveland, OhioTar-refiner
Cutting, AndrewCorporalC20BostonBostonMerchant
Dabney, Charles W.Major39W. RoxburyDied at Malvern, Eng., Dec. 22, 1870.
Dadmun, Newell H.PrivateA24NeedhamBostonPaper-box mfr.
Dalton, PatrickPrivateB27NewtonDeserted Oct. 21, 1862.
Danforth, George W.PrivateC21W. Cambridge
Danforth, Joseph M.PrivateG37DorchesterDied at Cummington, Mass., May 10, 1878.
Daniels, LewisCorporalK28SherbornSherbornSaw-mill
Davis, George A.PrivateG30BrightonDied at St. Louis, May 6, 1864 (injuries from fall).
Davis, WakemanPrivateF33CharlestownRockportFurniture
Dawes, Richard C.PrivateH24MelroseSan Francisco, Cal.ClerkRe-enlisted. Chapter XV.
Day, Henry W.PrivateH30WestonWeston
Dean, James E.PrivateF21BostonNew YorkCommission
Dean, Joseph F.PrivateF19CambridgePalatka, Fla.Banker