ARMY LIFE IN A BLACK REGIMENT

Thomas Wentworth Higginson

(1823-1911)

Originally published 1869

Reprinted, 1900, by Riverside Press

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1 Introductory

CHAPTER 2 Camp Diary

CHAPTER 3 Up the St. Mary's

CHAPTER 4 Up the St. John's

CHAPTER 5 Out on Picket

CHAPTER 6 A Night in the Water

CHAPTER 7 Up the Edisto

CHAPTER 8 The Baby of the Regiment

CHAPTER 9 Negro Spirituals

CHAPTER 10 Life at Camp Shaw

CHAPTER 11 Florida Again?

CHAPTER 12 The Negro as a Soldier

CHAPTER 13 Conclusion

APPENDIX

 A. Roster of Officers B. The First Black Soldiers C. General Saxton's Instructions D. The Struggle for Pay E. Farewell Address

Index

Chapter 1. Introductory

These pages record some of the adventures of the First South CarolinaVolunteers, the first slave regiment mustered into the service of theUnited States during the late civil war. It was, indeed, the firstcolored regiment of any kind so mustered, except a portion of the troopsraised by Major-General Butler at New Orleans. These scarcely belongedto the same class, however, being recruited from the free coloredpopulation of that city, a comparatively self-reliant and educated race. "The darkest of them, " said General Butler, "were about the complexionof the late Mr. Webster. "

The First South Carolina, on the other hand, contained scarcely afreeman, had not one mulatto in ten, and a far smaller proportion whocould read or write when enlisted. The only contemporary regiment of asimilar character was the "First Kansas Colored, " which began recruitinga little earlier, though it was not mustered in the usual basis ofmilitary seniority till later. [_See Appendix_] These were the onlycolored regiments recruited during the year 1862. The Second SouthCarolina and the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts followed early in 1863. 

This is the way in which I came to the command of this regiment. Oneday in November, 1862, I was sitting at dinner with my lieutenants, John Goodell and Luther Bigelow, in the barracks of the Fifty-FirstMassachusetts, Colonel Sprague, when the following letter was put intomy hands:

BEAUFORT, S. C. , November 5, 1862. 

MY DEAR SIR. 

I am organizing the First Regiment of South Carolina Volunteers, withevery prospect of success. Your name has been spoken of, in connectionwith the command of this regiment, by some friends in whose judgment Ihave confidence. I take great pleasure in offering you the position ofColonel in it, and hope that you may be induced to accept. I shall notfill the place until I hear from you, or sufficient time shall havepassed for me to receive your reply. Should you accept, I enclose apass for Port Royal, of which I trust you will feel disposed to availyourself at once. I am, with sincere regard, yours truly, R. SAXTON, _Brig. -Genl, Mil. Gov. _

Had an invitation reached me to take command of a regiment of KalmuckTartars, it could hardly have been more unexpected. I had alwayslooked for the arming of the blacks, and had always felt a wish to beassociated with them; had read the scanty accounts of General Hunter'sabortive regiment, and had heard rumors of General Saxton's renewedefforts. But the prevalent tone of public sentiment was still opposed toany such attempts; the government kept very shy of the experiment, andit did not seem possible that the time had come when it could be fairlytried. 

For myself, I was at the head of a fine company of my own raising, andin a regiment to which I was already much attached. It did not seemdesirable to exchange a certainty for an uncertainty; for who knew butGeneral Saxton might yet be thwarted in his efforts by the pro-slaveryinfluence that had still so much weight at head-quarters? It would beintolerable to go out to South Carolina, and find myself, after all, atthe head of a mere plantation-guard or a day-school in uniform. 

I therefore obtained from the War Department, through Governor Andrew, permission to go and report to General Saxton, without at once resigningmy captaincy. Fortunately it took but a few days in South Carolina tomake it clear that all was right, and the return steamer took back aresignation of a Massachusetts commission. Thenceforth my lot was castaltogether with the black troops, except when regiments or detachmentsof white soldiers were also under my command, during the two yearsfollowing. 

These details would not be worth mentioning except as they show thisfact: that I did not seek the command of colored troops, but it soughtme. And this fact again is only important to my story for this reason, that under these circumstances I naturally viewed the new recruitsrather as subjects for discipline than for philanthropy. I had beenexpecting a war for six years, ever since the Kansas troubles, and mymind had dwelt on military matters more or less during all that time. The best Massachusetts regiments already exhibited a high standard ofdrill and discipline, and unless these men could be brought tolerablynear that standard, the fact of their extreme blackness would afford me, even as a philanthropist, no satisfaction. Fortunately, I felt perfectconfidence that they could be so trained, having happily known, byexperience, the qualities of their race, and knowing also that they hadhome and household and freedom to fight for, besides that abstractionof "the Union. " Trouble might perhaps be expected from white officials, though this turned out far less than might have been feared; but therewas no trouble to come from the men, I thought, and none ever came. Onthe other hand, it was a vast experiment of indirect philanthropy, andone on which the result of the war and the destiny of the negro racemight rest; and this was enough to tax all one's powers. I had been anabolitionist too long, and had known and loved John Brown too well, notto feel a thrill of joy at last on finding myself in the position wherehe only wished to be. 

In view of all this, it was clear that good discipline must come first;after that, of course, the men must be helped and elevated in all waysas much as possible. 

Of discipline there was great need, that is, of order and regularinstruction. Some of the men had already been under fire, but they werevery ignorant of drill and camp duty. The officers, being appointed froma dozen different States, and more than as many regiments, infantry, cavalry, artillery, and engineers, had all that diversity of methodswhich so confused our army in those early days. The first need, therefore, was of an unbroken interval of training. During this period, which fortunately lasted nearly two months, I rarely left the camp, andgot occasional leisure moments for a fragmentary journal, to send home, recording the many odd or novel aspects of the new experience. Camp-lifewas a wonderfully strange sensation to almost all volunteer officers, and mine lay among eight hundred men suddenly transformed from slavesinto soldiers, and representing a race affectionate, enthusiastic, grotesque, and dramatic beyond all others. Being such, they naturallygave material for description. There is nothing like a diary forfreshness, at least so I think, and I shall keep to the diary throughthe days of camp-life, and throw the later experience into another form. Indeed, that matter takes care of itself; diaries and letter-writingstop when field-service begins. 

I am under pretty heavy bonds to tell the truth, and only the truth; forthose who look back to the newspaper correspondence of that periodwill see that this particular regiment lived for months in a glare ofpublicity, such as tests any regiment severely, and certainly preventsall subsequent romancing in its historian. As the scene of the onlyeffort on the Atlantic coast to arm the negro, our camp attracted acontinuous stream of visitors, military and civil. A battalion of blacksoldiers, a spectacle since so common, seemed then the most daring ofinnovations, and the whole demeanor of this particular regiment waswatched with microscopic scrutiny by friends and foes. I felt sometimesas if we were a plant trying to take root, but constantly pulled up tosee if we were growing. The slightest camp incidents sometimes cameback to us, magnified and distorted, in letters of anxious inquiry fromremote parts of the Union. It was no pleasant thing to live under suchconstant surveillance; but it guaranteed the honesty of any success, while fearfully multiplying the penalties had there been a failure. A single mutiny, such as has happened in the infancy of a hundredregiments, a single miniature Bull Run, a stampede of desertions, and itwould have been all over with us; the party of distrust would have gotthe upper hand, and there might not have been, during the whole contest, another effort to arm the negro. 

I may now proceed, without farther preparation to the Diary. 

Chapter 2. Camp Diary

CAMP SAXTON, near Beaufort, S. C. , November 24, 1862. 

Yesterday afternoon we were steaming over a summer sea, the deck levelas a parlor-floor, no land in sight, no sail, until at last appeared onelight-house, said to be Cape Romaine, and then a line of trees andtwo distant vessels and nothing more. The sun set, a great illuminatedbubble, submerged in one vast bank of rosy suffusion; it grew dark;after tea all were on deck, the people sang hymns; then the moon set, a moon two days old, a curved pencil of light, reclining backwards on aradiant couch which seemed to rise from the waves to receive it; it sankslowly, and the last tip wavered and went down like the mast of a vesselof the skies. Towards morning the boat stopped, and when I came on deck, before six, "The watch-lights glittered on the land, The ship-lights on the sea. "

Hilton Head lay on one side, the gunboats on the other; all that was rawand bare in the low buildings of the new settlement was softened intopicturesqueness by the early light. Stars were still overhead, gullswheeled and shrieked, and the broad river rippled duskily towardsBeaufort. 

The shores were low and wooded, like any New England shore; there were afew gunboats, twenty schooners, and some steamers, among them the famous"Planter, " which Robert Small, the slave, presented to the nation. Theriver-banks were soft and graceful, though low, and as we steamed up toBeaufort on the flood-tide this morning, it seemed almost as fair asthe smooth and lovely canals which Stedman traversed to meet his negrosoldiers in Surinam. The air was cool as at home, yet the foliage seemedgreen, glimpses of stiff tropical vegetation appeared along the banks, with great clumps of shrubs, whose pale seed-vessels looked like tardyblossoms. Then we saw on a picturesque point an old plantation, withstately magnolia avenue, decaying house, and tiny church amid the woods, reminding me of Virginia; behind it stood a neat encampment of whitetents, "and there, " said my companion, "is your future regiment. "

Three miles farther brought us to the pretty town of Beaufort, with itsstately houses amid Southern foliage. Reporting to General Saxton, I hadthe luck to encounter a company of my destined command, marched in tobe mustered into the United States service. They were unarmed, and alllooked as thoroughly black as the most faithful philanthropist coulddesire; there did not seem to be so much as a mulatto among them. Their coloring suited me, all but the legs, which were clad in a livelyscarlet, as intolerable to my eyes as if I had been a turkey. I saw themmustered; General Saxton talked to them a little, in his direct, manlyway; they gave close attention, though their faces looked impenetrable. Then I conversed with some of them. The first to whom I spoke had beenwounded in a small expedition after lumber, from which a party had justreturned, and in which they had been under fire and had done very well. I said, pointing to his lame arm, "Did you think that was more than you bargained for, my man?"

His answer came promptly and stoutly, "I been a-tinking, Mas'r, dot's jess what I went for. "

I thought this did well enough for my very first interchange of dialoguewith my recruits. 

November 27, 1862. 

Thanksgiving-Day; it is the first moment I have had for writing duringthese three days, which have installed me into a new mode of life sothoroughly that they seem three years. Scarcely pausing in New York orin Beaufort, there seems to have been for me but one step from thecamp of a Massachusetts regiment to this, and that step over leagues ofwaves. 

It is a holiday wherever General Saxton's proclamation reaches. Thechilly sunshine and the pale blue river seems like New England, butthose alone. The air is full of noisy drumming, and of gunshots; for theprize-shooting is our great celebration of the day, and the drumming ischronic. My young barbarians are all at play. I look out from the brokenwindows of this forlorn plantation-house, through avenues of greatlive-oaks, with their hard, shining leaves, and their branches hung witha universal drapery of soft, long moss, like fringe-trees struck withgrayness. Below, the sandy soil, scantly covered with coarse grass, bristles with sharp palmettoes and aloes; all the vegetation is stiff, shining, semi-tropical, with nothing soft or delicate in its texture. Numerous plantation-buildings totter around, all slovenly andunattractive, while the interspaces are filled with all manner of wreckand refuse, pigs, fowls, dogs, and omnipresent Ethiopian infancy. Allthis is the universal Southern panorama; but five minutes' walk beyondthe hovels and the live-oaks will bring one to something so un-Southernthat the whole Southern coast at this moment trembles at the suggestionof such a thing, the camp of a regiment of freed slaves. 

One adapts one's self so readily to new surroundings that already thefull zest of the novelty seems passing away from my perceptions, and Iwrite these lines in an eager effort to retain all I can. Already I amgrowing used to the experience, at first so novel, of living amongfive hundred men, and scarce a white face to be seen, of seeing them gothrough all their daily processes, eating, frolicking, talking, just asif they were white. Each day at dress-parade I stand with the customaryfolding of the arms before a regimental line of countenances so blackthat I can hardly tell whether the men stand steadily or not; black isevery hand which moves in ready cadence as I vociferate, "Battalion!Shoulder arms!" nor is it till the line of white officers moves forward, as parade is dismissed, that I am reminded that my own face is not thecolor of coal. 

The first few days on duty with a new regiment must be devoted almostwholly to tightening reins; in this process one deals chiefly with theofficers, and I have as yet had but little personal intercourse with themen. They concern me chiefly in bulk, as so many consumers of rations, wearers of uniforms, bearers of muskets. But as the machine comes intoshape, I am beginning to decipher the individual parts. At first, ofcourse, they all looked just alike; the variety comes afterwards, andthey are just as distinguishable, the officers say, as so many whites. Most of them are wholly raw, but there are many who have already beenfor months in camp in the abortive "Hunter Regiment, " yet in thatloose kind of way which, like average militia training, is a doubtfuladvantage. I notice that some companies, too, look darker than others, though all are purer African than I expected. This is said to be partlya geographical difference between the South Carolina and Florida men. When the Rebels evacuated this region they probably took with them thehouse-servants, including most of the mixed blood, so that the residuumseems very black. But the men brought from Fernandina the other dayaverage lighter in complexion, and look more intelligent, and theycertainly take wonderfully to the drill. 

It needs but a few days to show the absurdity of distrusting themilitary availability of these people. They have quite as much averagecomprehension as whites of the need of the thing, as much courage (Idoubt not), as much previous knowledge of the gun, and, above all, a readiness of ear and of imitation, which, for purposes of drill, counterbalances any defect of mental training. To learn the drill, onedoes not want a set of college professors; one wants a squad of eager, active, pliant school-boys; and the more childlike these pupils are thebetter. There is no trouble about the drill; they will surpass whitesin that. As to camp-life, they have little to sacrifice; they are betterfed, housed, and clothed than ever in their lives before, and theyappear to have few inconvenient vices. They are simple, docile, andaffectionate almost to the point of absurdity. The same men who stoodfire in open field with perfect coolness, on the late expedition, havecome to me blubbering in the most irresistibly ludicrous manner on beingtransferred from one company in the regiment to another. 

In noticing the squad-drills I perceive that the men learn lesslaboriously than whites that "double, double, toil and trouble, " whichis the elementary vexation of the drill-master, that they more rarelymistake their left for their right, and are more grave and sedate whileunder instruction. The extremes of jollity and sobriety, being greaterwith them, are less liable to be intermingled; these companies canbe driven with a looser rein than my former one, for they restrainthemselves; but the moment they are dismissed from drill every tongueis relaxed and every ivory tooth visible. This morning I wandered aboutwhere the different companies were target-shooting, and their glee wascontagious. Such exulting shouts of "Ki! ole man, " when some steadyold turkey-shooter brought his gun down for an instant's aim, and thenunerringly hit the mark; and then, when some unwary youth fired hispiece into the ground at half-cock such guffawing and delight, suchrolling over and over on the grass, such dances of ecstasy, as made the"Ethiopian minstrelsy" of the stage appear a feeble imitation. 

Evening. Better still was a scene on which I stumbled to-night. Strolling in the cool moonlight, I was attracted by a brilliant lightbeneath the trees, and cautiously approached it. A circle of thirty orforty soldiers sat around a roaring fire, while one old uncle, Cato byname, was narrating an interminable tale, to the insatiable delight ofhis audience. I came up into the dusky background, perceived only by afew, and he still continued. It was a narrative, dramatized to thelast degree, of his adventures in escaping from his master to the Unionvessels; and even I, who have heard the stories of Harriet Tubman, andsuch wonderful slave-comedians, never witnessed such a piece ofacting. When I came upon the scene he had just come unexpectedly upon aplantation-house, and, putting a bold face upon it, had walked up to thedoor. 

"Den I go up to de white man, berry humble, and say, would he please gibole man a mouthful for eat?

"He say he must hab de valeration ob half a dollar. 

"Den I look berry sorry, and turn for go away. 

"Den he say I might gib him dat hatchet I had. 

"Den I say" (this in a tragic vein) "dat I must hab dat hatchet fordefend myself _from de dogs_!"

[Immense applause, and one appreciating auditor says, chuckling, "Datwas your _arms_, ole man, " which brings down the house again. ]

"Den he say de Yankee pickets was near by, and I must be very keerful. 

"Den I say, 'Good Lord, Mas'r, am dey?'"

Words cannot express the complete dissimulation with which these accentsof terror were uttered, this being precisely the piece of information hewished to obtain. 

Then he narrated his devices to get into the house at night and obtainsome food, how a dog flew at him, how the whole household, black andwhite, rose in pursuit, how he scrambled under a hedge and over a highfence, etc. , all in a style of which Gough alone among orators can givethe faintest impression, so thoroughly dramatized was every syllable. 

Then he described his reaching the river-side at last, and trying todecide whether certain vessels held friends or foes. 

"Den I see guns on board, and sure sartin he Union boat, and I pop myhead up. Den I been-a-tink [think] Seceshkey hab guns too, and my headgo down again. Den I hide in de bush till morning. Den I open my bundle, and take ole white shut and tie him on ole pole and wave him, andebry time de wind blow, I been-a-tremble, and drap down in de bushes, "because, being between two fires, he doubted whether friend or foe wouldsee his signal first. And so on, with a succession of tricks beyondMoliere, of acts of caution, foresight, patient cunning, which werelistened to with infinite gusto and perfect comprehension by everylistener. 

And all this to a bivouac of negro soldiers, with the brilliant firelighting up their red trousers and gleaming from their shining blackfaces, eyes and teeth all white with tumultuous glee. Overhead, themighty limbs of a great live-oak, with the weird moss swaying in thesmoke, and the high moon gleaming faintly through. 

Yet to-morrow strangers will remark on the hopeless, impenetrablestupidity in the daylight faces of many of these very men, the solidmask under which Nature has concealed all this wealth of mother-wit. This very comedian is one to whom one might point, as he hoed lazilyin a cotton-field, as a being the light of whose brain had utterly goneout; and this scene seems like coming by night upon some conclaveof black beetles, and finding them engaged, with green-room andfoot-lights, in enacting "Poor Pillicoddy. " This is their university;every young Sambo before me, as he turned over the sweet potatoes andpeanuts which were roasting in the ashes, listened with reverence tothe wiles of the ancient Ulysses, and meditated the same. It is Nature'scompensation; oppression simply crushes the upper faculties of the head, and crowds everything into the perceptive organs. Cato, thou reasonestwell! When I get into any serious scrape, in an enemy's country, may Ibe lucky enough to have you at my elbow, to pull me out of it!

The men seem to have enjoyed the novel event of Thanksgiving-Day; theyhave had company and regimental prize-shootings, a minimum of speechesand a maximum of dinner. Bill of fare: two beef-cattle and a thousandoranges. The oranges cost a cent apiece, and the cattle were Secesh, bestowed by General Saxby, as they all call him. 

December 1, 1862. 

How absurd is the impression bequeathed by Slavery in regard to theseSouthern blacks, that they are sluggish and inefficient in labor! Lastnight, after a hard day's work (our guns and the remainder of our tentsbeing just issued), an order came from Beaufort that we should be readyin the evening to unload a steamboat's cargo of boards, being some ofthose captured by them a few weeks since, and now assigned for theiruse. I wondered if the men would grumble at the night-work; but thesteamboat arrived by seven, and it was bright moonlight when they wentat it. Never have I beheld such a jolly scene of labor. Tugging thesewet and heavy boards over a bridge of boats ashore, then across theslimy beach at low tide, then up a steep bank, and all in one greatuproar of merriment for two hours. Running most of the time, chatteringall the time, snatching the boards from each other's backs as if theywere some coveted treasure, getting up eager rivalries between differentcompanies, pouring great choruses of ridicule on the heads of allshirkers, they made the whole scene so enlivening that I gladly stayedout in the moonlight for the whole time to watch it. And all thiswithout any urging or any promised reward, but simply as the mostnatural way of doing the thing. The steamboat captain declared that theyunloaded the ten thousand feet of boards quicker than any white gangcould have done it; and they felt it so little, that, when, later in thenight, I reproached one whom I found sitting by a campfire, cooking asurreptitious opossum, telling him that he ought to be asleep after sucha job of work, he answered, with the broadest grin, "O no, Gunnel, da'sno work at all, Gunnel; dat only jess enough for stretch we. "

December 2, 1862. 

I believe I have not yet enumerated the probable drawbacks to thesuccess of this regiment, if any. We are exposed to no direct annoyancefrom the white regiments, being out of their way; and we have as yet nodiscomforts or privations which we do not share with them. I do not asyet see the slightest obstacle, in the nature of the blacks, to makingthem good soldiers, but rather the contrary. They take readily todrill, and do not object to discipline; they are not especially dullor inattentive; they seem fully to understand the importance of thecontest, and of their share in it. They show no jealousy or suspiciontowards their officers. 

They do show these feelings, however, towards the Government itself; andno one can wonder. Here lies the drawback to rapid recruiting. Werethis a wholly new regiment, it would have been full to overflowing, Iam satisfied, ere now. The trouble is in the legacy of bitter distrustbequeathed by the abortive regiment of General Hunter, into which theywere driven like cattle, kept for several months in camp, and thenturned off without a shilling, by order of the War Department. Theformation of that regiment was, on the whole, a great injury to thisone; and the men who came from it, though the best soldiers we have inother respects, are the least sanguine and cheerful; while those whonow refuse to enlist have a great influence in deterring others. Oursoldiers are constantly twitted by their families and friends with theirprospect of risking their lives in the service, and being paid nothing;and it is in vain that we read them the instructions of the Secretaryof War to General Saxton, promising them the full pay of soldiers. Theyonly half believe it. *

*With what utter humiliation were we, their officers, obliged to confessto them, eighteen months afterwards, that it was their distrust whichwas wise, and our faith in the pledges of the United States Governmentwhich was foolishness!

Another drawback is that some of the white soldiers delight infrightening the women on the plantations with doleful tales of plans forputting us in the front rank in all battles, and such silly talk, --theobject being perhaps, to prevent our being employed on active serviceat all. All these considerations they feel precisely as white menwould, --no less, no more; and it is the comparative freedom from suchunfavorable influences which makes the Florida men seem more bold andmanly, as they undoubtedly do. To-day General Saxton has returned fromFernandina with seventy-six recruits, and the eagerness of the captainsto secure them was a sight to see. Yet they cannot deny that some of thevery best men in the regiment are South Carolinians. 

December 3, 1862. --7 P. M. 

What a life is this I lead! It is a dark, mild, drizzling evening, andas the foggy air breeds sand-flies, so it calls out melodies and strangeantics from this mysterious race of grown-up children with whom my lotis cast. All over the camp the lights glimmer in the tents, and as I sitat my desk in the open doorway, there come mingled sounds of stir andglee. Boys laugh and shout, --a feeble flute stirs somewhere in sometent, not an officer's, --a drum throbs far away in another, --wildkildeer-plover flit and wail above us, like the haunting souls of deadslave-masters, --and from a neighboring cook-fire comes the monotonoussound of that strange festival, half pow-wow, half prayer-meeting, which they know only as a "shout. " These fires are usually enclosed ina little booth, made neatly of palm-leaves and covered in at top, aregular native African hut, in short, such as is pictured in books, andsuch as I once got up from dried palm-leaves for a fair at home. Thishut is now crammed with men, singing at the top of their voices, inone of their quaint, monotonous, endless, negro-Methodist chants, with obscure syllables recurring constantly, and slight variationsinterwoven, all accompanied with a regular drumming of the feet andclapping of the hands, like castanets. Then the excitement spreads:inside and outside the enclosure men begin to quiver and dance, othersjoin, a circle forms, winding monotonously round some one in the centre;some "heel and toe" tumultuously, others merely tremble and stagger on, others stoop and rise, others whirl, others caper sideways, all keepsteadily circling like dervishes; spectators applaud special strokes ofskill; my approach only enlivens the scene; the circle enlarges, louder grows the singing, rousing shouts of encouragement come in, half bacchanalian, half devout, "Wake 'em, brudder!" "Stan' up to 'em, brudder!"--and still the ceaseless drumming and clapping, in perfectcadence, goes steadily on. Suddenly there comes a sort of snap, and thespell breaks, amid general sighing and laughter. And this not rarely andoccasionally, but night after night, while in other parts of the campthe soberest prayers and exhortations are proceeding sedately. 

A simple and lovable people, whose graces seem to come by nature, andwhose vices by training. Some of the best superintendents confirm thefirst tales of innocence, and Dr. Zachos told me last night that on hisplantation, a sequestered one, "they had absolutely no vices. " Nor havethese men of mine yet shown any worth mentioning; since I took commandI have heard of no man intoxicated, and there has been but one smallquarrel. I suppose that scarcely a white regiment in the army showsso little swearing. Take the "Progressive Friends" and put them in redtrousers, and I verily believe they would fill a guard-house soonerthan these men. If camp regulations are violated, it seems to be usuallythrough heedlessness. They love passionately three things besides theirspiritual incantations; namely, sugar, home, and tobacco. This lastaffection brings tears to their eyes, almost, when they speak of theirurgent need of pay; they speak of their last-remembered quid as if itwere some deceased relative, too early lost, and to be mourned forever. As for sugar, no white man can drink coffee after they have sweetened itto their liking. 

I see that the pride which military life creates may cause theplantation trickeries to diminish. For instance, these men make the mostadmirable sentinels. It is far harder to pass the camp lines at nightthan in the camp from which I came; and I have seen none of thatdisposition to connive at the offences of members of one's own companywhich is so troublesome among white soldiers. Nor are they lazy, eitherabout work or drill; in all respects they seem better material forsoldiers than I had dared to hope. 

There is one company in particular, all Florida men, which I certainlythink the finest-looking company I ever saw, white or black; they rangeadmirably in size, have remarkable erectness and ease of carriage, andreally march splendidly. Not a visitor but notices them; yet they havebeen under drill only a fortnight, and a part only two days. They haveall been slaves, and very few are even mulattoes. 

December 4, 1862. 

"Dwelling in tents, with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. " This conditionis certainly mine, --and with a multitude of patriarchs beside, not tomention Caesar and Pompey, Hercules and Bacchus. 

A moving life, tented at night, this experience has been mine in civilsociety, if society be civil before the luxurious forest fires ofMaine and the Adirondack, or upon the lonely prairies of Kansas. But astationary tent life, deliberately going to housekeeping under canvas, Ihave never had before, though in our barrack life at "Camp Wool" I oftenwished for it. 

The accommodations here are about as liberal as my quarters there, two wall-tents being placed end to end, for office and bedroom, andseparated at will by a "fly" of canvas. There is a good board floor andmop-board, effectually excluding dampness and draughts, and everythingbut sand, which on windy days penetrates everywhere. The officefurniture consists of a good desk or secretary, a very clumsy anddisastrous settee, and a remarkable chair. The desk is a bequest of theslaveholders, and the settee of the slaves, being ecclesiastical in itsorigin, and appertaining to the little old church or "praise-house, "now used for commissary purposes. The chair is a composite structure: Ifound a cane seat on a dust-heap, which a black sergeant combined withtwo legs from a broken bedstead and two more from an oak-bough. I siton it with a pride of conscious invention, mitigated by profoundinsecurity. Bedroom furniture, a couch made of gun-boxes covered withcondemned blankets, another settee, two pails, a tin cup, tin basin(we prize any tin or wooden ware as savages prize iron), and a valise, regulation size. Seriously considered, nothing more appears needful, unless ambition might crave another chair for company, and, perhaps, something for a wash-stand higher than a settee. 

To-day it rains hard, and the wind quivers through the closed canvas, and makes one feel at sea. All the talk of the camp outside is fusedinto a cheerful and indistinguishable murmur, pierced through at everymoment by the wail of the hovering plover. Sometimes a face, black orwhite, peers through the entrance with some message. Since the lightreadily penetrates, though the rain cannot, the tent conveys a feelingof charmed security, as if an invisible boundary checked the patteringdrops and held the moaning wind. The front tent I share, as yet, with myadjutant; in the inner apartment I reign supreme, bounded in a nutshell, with no bad dreams. 

In all pleasant weather the outer "fly" is open, and men pass andrepass, a chattering throng. I think of Emerson's Saadi, "As thousittest at thy door, on the desert's yellow floor, "--for these baresand-plains, gray above, are always yellow when upturned, and thereseems a tinge of Orientalism in all our life. 

Thrice a day we go to the plantation-houses for our meals, camp-arrangements being yet very imperfect. The officers board indifferent messes, the adjutant and I still clinging to the household ofWilliam Washington, --William the quiet and the courteous, the patternof house-servants, William the noiseless, the observing, thediscriminating, who knows everything that can be got, and how to cookit. William and his tidy, lady-like little spouse Hetty--a pair ofwedded lovers, if ever I saw one--set our table in their one room, half-way between an un glazed window and a large wood-fire, such as isoften welcome. Thanks to the adjutant, we are provided with the socialmagnificence of napkins; while (lest pride take too high a flight)our table-cloth consists of two "New York Tribunes" and a "Leslie'sPictorial. " Every steamer brings us a clean table-cloth. Here are weforever supplied with pork and oysters and sweet potatoes and rice andhominy and corn-bread and milk; also mysterious griddle-cakes of cornand pumpkin; also preserves made of pumpkin-chips, and otherfanciful productions of Ethiop art. Mr. E. Promised theplantation-superintendents who should come down here "all the luxuriesof home, " and we certainly have much apparent, if little real variety. Once William produced with some palpitation something fricasseed, which he boldly termed chicken; it was very small, and seemed in someundeveloped condition of ante-natal toughness. After the meal he franklyavowed it for a squirrel. 

December 5, 1862. 

Give these people their tongues, their feet, and their leisure, and theyare happy. At every twilight the air is full of singing, talking, andclapping of hands in unison. One of their favorite songs is full ofplaintive cadences; it is not, I think, a Methodist tune, and I wonderwhere they obtained a chant of such beauty. 

 "I can't stay behind, my Lord, I can't stay behind! O, my father is gone, my father is gone, My father is gone into heaven, my Lord! I can't stay behind! Dere's room enough, room enough, Room enough in de heaven for de sojer: Can't stay behind!"

It always excites them to have us looking on, yet they sing these songsat all times and seasons. I have heard this very song dimly droning onnear midnight, and, tracing it into the recesses of a cook-house, havefound an old fellow coiled away among the pots and provisions, chantingaway with his "Can't stay behind, sinner, " till I made him leave hissong behind. 

This evening, after working themselves up to the highest pitch, a partysuddenly rushed off, got a barrel, and mounted some man upon it, whosaid, "Gib anoder song, boys, and I'se gib you a speech. " After somehesitation and sundry shouts of "Rise de sing, somebody, " and "Stan'up for Jesus, brud-der, " irreverently put in by the juveniles, they gotupon the John Brown song, always a favorite, adding a jubilant versewhich I had never before heard, --"We'll beat Beauregard on de clarebattlefield. " Then came the promised speech, and then no less than sevenother speeches by as many men, on a variety of barrels, each oratorbeing affectionately tugged to the pedestal and set on end by hisspecial constituency. Every speech was good, without exception; with thequeerest oddities of phrase and pronunciation, there was an invariableenthusiasm, a pungency of statement, and an understanding of the pointsat issue, which made them all rather thrilling. Those long-windedslaves in "Among the Pines" seemed rather fictitious and literary incomparison. The most eloquent, perhaps, was Corporal Price Lambkin, justarrived from Fernandina, who evidently had a previous reputation amongthem. His historical references were very interesting. He reminded themthat he had predicted this war ever since Fremont's time, to whichsome of the crowd assented; he gave a very intelligent account of thatPresidential campaign, and then described most impressively the secretanxiety of the slaves in Florida to know all about President Lincoln'selection, and told how they all refused to work on the fourth of March, expecting their freedom to date from that day. He finally brought outone of the few really impressive appeals for the American flag that Ihave ever heard. "Our mas'rs dey hab lib under de flag, dey got derewealth under it, and ebryting beautiful for dere chilen. Under it deyhab grind us up, and put us in dere pocket for money. But de fus' minutedey tink dat ole flag mean freedom for we colored people, dey pull itright down, and run up de rag ob dere own. " (Immense applause). "Butwe'll neber desert de ole flag, boys, neber; we hab lib under it foreighteen hundred sixty-two years, and we'll die for it now. " With whichoverpowering discharge of chronology-at-long-range, this most effectiveof stump-speeches closed. I see already with relief that there will besmall demand in this regiment for harangues from the officers; give themen an empty barrel for a stump, and they will do their own exhortation. 

December 11, 1862. 

Haroun Alraschid, wandering in disguise through his imperial streets, scarcely happened upon a greater variety of groups than I, in my eveningstrolls among our own camp-fires. 

Beside some of these fires the men are cleaning their guns or rehearsingtheir drill, --beside others, smoking in silence their very scanty supplyof the beloved tobacco, --beside others, telling stories and shoutingwith laughter over the broadest mimicry, in which they excel, and inwhich the officers come in for a full share. The everlasting "shout"is always within hearing, with its mixture of piety and polka, andits castanet-like clapping of the hands. Then there are quieterprayer-meetings, with pious invocations and slow psalms, "deaconed out"from memory by the leader, two lines at a time, in a sort of wailingchant. Elsewhere, there are _conversazioni_ around fires, with a womanfor queen of the circle, --her Nubian face, gay headdress, gilt necklace, and white teeth, all resplendent in the glowing light. Sometimes thewoman is spelling slow monosyllables out of a primer, a feat whichalways commands all ears, --they rightly recognizing a mighty spell, equal to the overthrowing of monarchs, in the magic assonance of _cat, hat, pat, bat_, and the rest of it. Elsewhere, it is some solitary oldcook, some aged Uncle Tiff, with enormous spectacles, who is perusing ahymn-book by the light of a pine splinter, in his deserted cooking boothof palmetto leaves. By another fire there is an actual dance, red-leggedsoldiers doing right-and-left, and "now-lead-de-lady-ober, " to the musicof a violin which is rather artistically played, and which may haveguided the steps, in other days, of Barnwells and Hugers. And yonder isa stump-orator perched on his barrel, pouring out his exhortations tofidelity in war and in religion. To-night for the first time I haveheard an harangue in a different strain, quite saucy, sceptical, anddefiant, appealing to them in a sort of French materialistic style, andclaiming some personal experience of warfare. "You don't know notin'about it, boys. You tink you's brave enough; how you tink, if you stan'clar in de open field, --here you, and dar de Secesh? You's got to habde right ting inside o' you. You must hab it 'served [preserved] in you, like dese yer sour plums dey 'serve in de barr'l; you's got to hardenit down inside o' you, or it's notin'. " Then he hit hard at thereligionists: "When a man's got de sperit ob de Lord in him, it weakenshim all out, can't hoe de corn. " He had a great deal of broad sense inhis speech; but presently some others began praying vociferously closeby, as if to drown this free-thinker, when at last he exclaimed, "I meanto fight de war through, an' die a good sojer wid de last kick, dat's_my_ prayer!" and suddenly jumped off the barrel. I was quite interestedat discovering this reverse side of the temperament, the devotional sidepreponderates so enormously, and the greatest scamps kneel and groan intheir prayer-meetings with such entire zest. It shows that there is someindividuality developed among them, and that they will not become tooexclusively pietistic. 

Their love of the spelling-book is perfectly inexhaustible, --theystumbling on by themselves, or the blind leading the blind, with thesame pathetic patience which they carry into everything. The chaplain isgetting up a schoolhouse, where he will soon teach them as regularly ashe can. But the alphabet must always be a very incidental business in acamp. 

December 14. 

Passages from prayers in the camp:--

"Let me so lib dat when I die I shall _hab manners_, dat I shall knowwhat to say when I see my Heabenly Lord. "

"Let me lib wid de musket in one hand an' de Bible in de oder, --dat ifI die at de muzzle ob de musket, die in de water, die on de land, I mayknow I hab de bressed Jesus in my hand, an' hab no fear. "

"I hab lef my wife in de land o' bondage; my little ones dey say eb'rynight, Whar is my fader? But when I die, when de bressed mornin' rises, when I shall stan' in de glory, wid one foot on de water an' one footon de land, den, O Lord, I shall see my wife an' my little chil'en oncemore. "

These sentences I noted down, as best I could, beside the glimmeringcamp-fire last night. The same person was the hero of a singular little_contre-temps_ at a funeral in the afternoon. It was our firstfuneral. The man had died in hospital, and we had chosen a picturesqueburial-place above the river, near the old church, and beside a littlenameless cemetery, used by generations of slaves. It was a regularmilitary funeral, the coffin being draped with the American flag, theescort marching behind, and three volleys fired over the grave. Duringthe services there was singing, the chaplain deaconing out the hymn intheir favorite way. This ended, he announced his text, --"This poorman cried, and the Lord heard him, and delivered him out of all histrouble. " Instantly, to my great amazement, the cracked voice of thechorister was uplifted, intoning the text, as if it were the first verseof another hymn. So calmly was it done, so imperturbable were all theblack countenances, that I half began to conjecture that the chaplainhimself intended it for a hymn, though I could imagine no prospectiverhyme for _trouble_ unless it were approximated by _debbil_, which is, indeed, a favorite reference, both with the men and with his Reverence. But the chaplain, peacefully awaiting, gently repeated his text afterthe chant, and to my great relief the old chorister waived all furtherrecitative, and let the funeral discourse proceed. 

Their memories are a vast bewildered chaos of Jewish history andbiography; and most of the great events of the past, down to the periodof the American Revolution, they instinctively attribute to Moses. There is a fine bold confidence in all their citations, however, and therecord never loses piquancy in their hands, though strict accuracy maysuffer. Thus, one of my captains, last Sunday, heard a colored exhorterat Beaufort proclaim, "Paul may plant, _and may polish wid water_, butit won't do, " in which the sainted Apollos would hardly have recognizedhimself. 

Just now one of the soldiers came to me to say that he was about tobe married to a girl in Beaufort, and would I lend him a dollar andseventy-five cents to buy the wedding outfit? It seemed as if matrimonyon such moderate terms ought to be encouraged in these days; and so Iresponded to the appeal. 

December 16. 

To-day a young recruit appeared here, who had been the slave of ColonelSammis, one of the leading Florida refugees. Two white companions camewith him, who also appeared to be retainers of the Colonel, and I askedthem to dine. Being likewise refugees, they had stories to tell, andwere quite agreeable: one was English born, the other Floridian, a dark, sallow Southerner, very well bred. After they had gone, the Colonelhimself appeared, I told him that I had been entertaining his whitefriends, and after a while he quietly let out the remark, --

"Yes, one of those white friends of whom you speak is a boy raised onone of my plantations; he has travelled with me to the North, and passedfor white, and he always keeps away from the negroes. "

Certainly no such suspicion had ever crossed my mind. 

I have noticed one man in the regiment who would easily pass forwhite, --a little sickly drummer, aged fifty at least, with brown eyesand reddish hair, who is said to be the son of one of our commodores. I have seen perhaps a dozen persons as fair, or fairer, among fugitiveslaves, but they were usually young children. It touched me far moreto see this man, who had spent more than half a lifetime in thislow estate, and for whom it now seemed too late to be anything but a"nigger. " This offensive word, by the way, is almost as common with themas at the North, and far more common than with well-bred slaveholders. They have meekly accepted it. "Want to go out to de nigger houses, Sah, "is the universal impulse of sociability, when they wish to cross thelines. "He hab twenty house-servants, an' two hundred head o' nigger, "is a still more degrading form of phrase, in which the epithet islimited to the field-hands, and they estimated like so many cattle. This want of self-respect of course interferes with the authority of thenon-commissioned officers, which is always difficult to sustain, even inwhite regiments. "He needn't try to play de white man ober me, " was theprotest of a soldier against his corporal the other day. To counteractthis I have often to remind them that they do not obey their officersbecause they are white, but because they are their officers; and guardduty is an admirable school for this, because they readily understandthat the sergeant or corporal of the guard has for the time moreauthority than any commissioned officer who is not on duty. It isnecessary also for their superiors to treat the non-commissionedofficers with careful courtesy, and I often caution the line officersnever to call them "Sam" or "Will, " nor omit the proper handle to theirnames. The value of the habitual courtesies of the regular army isexceedingly apparent with these men: an officer of polished manners canwind them round his finger, while white soldiers seem rather to prefera certain roughness. The demeanor of my men to each other is verycourteous, and yet I see none of that sort of upstart conceit which issometimes offensive among free negroes at the North, the dandy-barberstrut. This is an agreeable surprise, for I feared that freedom andregimentals would produce precisely that. 

They seem the world's perpetual children, docile, gay, and lovable, in the midst of this war for freedom on which they have intelligentlyentered. Last night, before "taps, " there was the greatest noise in campthat I had ever heard, and I feared some riot. On going out, I found themost tumultuous sham-fight proceeding in total darkness, two companiesplaying like boys, beating tin cups for drums. When some ofthem saw me they seemed a little dismayed, and came and said, beseechingly, --"Gunnel, Sah, you hab no objection to we playin', Sah?"--which objection I disclaimed; but soon they all subsided, ratherto my regret, and scattered merrily. Afterward I found that some otherofficer had told them that I considered the affair too noisy, so thatI felt a mild self-reproach when one said, "Cunnel, wish you had letwe play a little longer, Sah. " Still I was not sorry, on the whole; forthese sham-fights between companies would in some regiments lead to realones, and there is a latent jealousy here between the Florida and SouthCarolina men, which sometimes makes me anxious. 

The officers are more kind and patient with the men than I shouldexpect, since the former are mostly young, and drilling tries thetemper; but they are aided by hearty satisfaction in the results alreadyattained. I have never yet heard a doubt expressed among the officers asto the _superiority_ of these men to white troops in aptitude for drilland discipline, because of their imitativeness and docility, and thepride they take in the service. One captain said to me to-day, "I havethis afternoon taught my men to load-in-nine-times, and they do itbetter than we did it in my former company in three months. " I canpersonally testify that one of our best lieutenants, an Englishman, taught a part of his company the essential movements of the "school forskirmishers" in a single lesson of two hours, so that they did themvery passably, though I feel bound to discourage such haste. However, I "formed square" on the third battalion drill. Three fourths of drillconsist of attention, imitation, and a good ear for time; in theother fourth, which consists of the application of principles, as, forinstance, performing by the left flank some movement before learnedby the right, they are perhaps slower than better educated men. Havingbelonged to five different drill-clubs before entering the army, Icertainly ought to know something of the resources of human awkwardness, and I can honestly say that they astonish me by the facility with whichthey do things. I expected much harder work in this respect. 

The habit of carrying burdens on the head gives them erectness offigure, even where physically disabled. I have seen a woman, with abrimming water-pail balanced on her head, or perhaps a cup, saucer, and spoon, stop suddenly, turn round, stoop to pick up a missile, riseagain, fling it, light a pipe, and go through many evolutions witheither hand or both, without spilling a drop. The pipe, by the way, gives an odd look to a well-dressed young girl on Sunday, but one oftensees that spectacle. The passion for tobacco among our men continuesquite absorbing, and I have piteous appeals for some arrangementby which they can buy it on credit, as we have yet no sutler. Theirimploring, "Cunnel, we can't _lib_ widout it, Sah, " goes to my heart;and as they cannot read, I cannot even have the melancholy satisfactionof supplying them with the excellent anti-tobacco tracts of Mr. Trask. 

December 19. 

Last night the water froze in the adjutant's tent, but not in mine. To-day has been mild and beautiful. The blacks say they do not feelthe cold so much as the white officers do, and perhaps it is so, thoughtheir health evidently suffers more from dampness. On the other hand, while drilling on very warm days, they have seemed to suffer more fromthe heat than their officers. But they dearly love fire, and at nightwill always have it, if possible, even on the minutest scale, --amere handful of splinters, that seems hardly more efficacious than afriction-match. Probably this is a natural habit for the short-livedcoolness of an out-door country; and then there is something delightfulin this rich pine, which burns like a tar-barrel. It was, perhaps, encouraged by the masters, as the only cheap luxury the slaves had athand. 

As one grows more acquainted with the men, their individualities emerge;and I find, first their faces, then their characters, to be as distinctas those of whites. It is very interesting the desire they show to dotheir duty, and to improve as soldiers; they evidently think about it, and see the importance of the thing; they say to me that we white mencannot stay and be their leaders always and that they must learn todepend on themselves, or else relapse into their former condition. 

Beside the superb branch of uneatable bitter oranges which decks mytent-pole, I have to-day hung up a long bough of finger-sponge, whichfloated to the river-bank. As winter advances, butterflies graduallydisappear: one species (a _Vanessa_) lingers; three others have vanishedsince I came. Mocking-birds are abundant, but rarely sing; once or twicethey have reminded me of the red thrush, but are inferior, as I havealways thought. The colored people all say that it will be much cooler;but my officers do not think so, perhaps because last winter was sounusually mild, --with only one frost, they say. 

December 20. 

Philoprogenitiveness is an important organ for an officer of coloredtroops; and I happen to be well provided with it. It seems to be thetheory of all military usages, in fact, that soldiers are to be treatedlike children; and these singular persons, who never know their own agetill they are past middle life, and then choose a birthday with suchprecision, --"Fifty year old, Sah, de fus' last April, "--prolong theprivilege of childhood. 

I am perplexed nightly for countersigns, --their range of proper names isso distressingly limited, and they make such amazing work of every newone. At first, to be sure, they did not quite recognize the need of anyvariation: one night some officer asked a sentinel whether he had thecountersign yet, and was indignantly answered, "Should tink I hab 'em, hab 'em for a fortnight"; which seems a long epoch for that magic wordto hold out. To-night I thought I would have "Fredericksburg, " in honorof Burnside's reported victory, using the rumor quickly, for fear of acontradiction. Later, in comes a captain, gets the countersign forhis own use, but presently returns, the sentinel having pronounced itincorrect. On inquiry, it appears that the sergeant of the guard, beingweak in geography, thought best to substitute the more familiar word, "Crockery-ware"; which was, with perfect gravity, confided to all thesentinels, and accepted without question. O life! what is the fun offiction beside thee?

I should think they would suffer and complain these cold nights; butthey say nothing, though there is a good deal of coughing. I shouldfancy that the scarlet trousers must do something to keep them warm, andwonder that they dislike them so much, when they are so much like theirbeloved fires. They certainly multiply firelight in any case. I oftennotice that an infinitesimal flame, with one soldier standing by it, looks like quite a respectable conflagration, and it seems as if a groupof them must dispel dampness. 

December 21. 

To a regimental commander no book can be so fascinating as theconsolidated Morning Report, which is ready about nine, and tells howmany in each company are sick, absent, on duty, and so on. It is one'snewspaper and daily mail; I never grow tired of it. If a single recruithas come in, I am always eager to see how he looks on paper. 

To-night the officers are rather depressed by rumors of Burnside's beingdefeated, after all. I am fortunately equable and undepressible; and itis very convenient that the men know too little of the events of thewar to feel excitement or fear. They know General Saxton and me, --"deGeneral" and "de Gunnel, "--and seem to ask no further questions. Weare the war. It saves a great deal of trouble, while it lasts, thischildlike confidence; nevertheless, it is our business to educate themto manhood, and I see as yet no obstacle. 

As for the rumor, the world will no doubt roll round, whether Burnsideis defeated or succeeds. 

Christmas Day. 

 "We'll fight for liberty Till de Lord shall call us home; We'll soon be free Till de Lord shall call us home. "

This is the hymn which the slaves at Georgetown, South Carolina, werewhipped for singing when President Lincoln was elected. So said a littledrummer-boy, as he sat at my tent's edge last night and told me hisstory; and he showed all his white teeth as he added, "Dey tink _'deLord'_ meant for say de Yankees. "

Last night, at dress-parade, the adjutant read General Saxton'sProclamation for the New Year's Celebration. I think they understood it, for there was cheering in all the company-streets afterwards. Christmasis the great festival of the year for this people; but, with New Year'scoming after, we could have no adequate programme for to-day, and socelebrated Christmas Eve with pattern simplicity. We omitted, namely, the mystic curfew which we call "taps, " and let them sit up and burntheir fires, and have their little prayer-meetings as late as theydesired; and all night, as I waked at intervals, I could hear thempraying and "shouting" and clattering with hands and heels. It seemed tomake them very happy, and appeared to be at least an innocent Christmasdissipation, as compared with some of the convivialities of the"superior race" hereabouts. 

December 26. 

The day passed with no greater excitement for the men thantarget-shooting, which they enjoyed. I had the private delight of thearrival of our much-desired surgeon and his nephew, the captain, withletters and news from home. They also bring the good tidings thatGeneral Saxton is not to be removed, as had been reported. 

Two different stands of colors have arrived for us, and will bepresented at New Year's, --one from friends in New York, and the otherfrom a lady in Connecticut. I see that "Frank Leslie's IllustratedWeekly" of December 20th has a highly imaginative picture of themuster-in of our first company, and also of a skirmish on the lateexpedition. 

I must not forget the prayer overheard last night by one of thecaptains: "O Lord! when I tink ob dis Kismas and las' year de Kismas. Las' Kismas he in de Secesh, and notin' to eat but grits, and no saltin 'em. Dis year in de camp, and too much victual!" This "too much" isa favorite phrase out of their grateful hearts, and did not in this casedenote an excess of dinner, --as might be supposed, --but of thanksgiving. 

December 29. 

Our new surgeon has begun his work most efficiently: he and the chaplainhave converted an old gin-house into a comfortable hospital, with tennice beds and straw pallets. He is now, with a hearty professionalfaith, looking round for somebody to put into it. I am afraid theregiment will accommodate him; for, although he declares that these mendo not sham sickness, as he expected, their catarrh is an unpleasantreality. They feel the dampness very much, and make such a coughingat dress-parade, that I have urged him to administer a dose ofcough-mixture, all round, just before that pageant. Are the coloredrace _tough?_ is my present anxiety; and it is odd that physicalinsufficiency, the only discouragement not thrown in our way by thenewspapers, is the only discouragement which finds any place in ourminds. They are used to sleeping indoors in winter, herded before fires, and so they feel the change. Still, the regiment is as healthy as theaverage, and experience will teach us something. *

* A second winter's experience removed all this solicitude, for theylearned to take care of themselves. During the first February thesick-list averaged about ninety, during the second about thirty, thisbeing the worst month in the year for blacks. 

December 30. 

On the first of January we are to have a slight collation, ten oxen orso, barbecued, --or not properly barbecued, but roasted whole. Touchingthe length of time required to "do" an ox, no two housekeepers appearto agree. Accounts vary from two hours to twenty-four. We shall happilyhave enough to try all gradations of roasting, and suit all tastes, fromMiss A. 's to mine. But fancy me proffering a spare-rib, well done, tosome fair lady! What ever are we to do for spoons and forks and plates?Each soldier has his own, and is sternly held responsible for it by"Army Regulations. " But how provide for the multitude? Is it customary, I ask you, to help to tenderloin with one's fingers? Fortunately, theMajor is to see to that department. Great are the advantages of militarydiscipline: for anything perplexing, detail a subordinate. 

New Year's Eve. 

My housekeeping at home is not, perhaps, on any very extravagant scale. Buying beefsteak, I usually go to the extent of two or three pounds. Yetwhen, this morning at daybreak, the quartermaster called to inquire howmany cattle I would have killed for roasting, I turned over in bed, andanswered composedly, "Ten, --and keep three to be fatted. "

Fatted, quotha! Not one of the beasts at present appears to possessan ounce of superfluous flesh. Never were seen such lean kine. As theyswing on vast spits, composed of young trees, the firelight glimmersthrough their ribs, as if they were great lanterns. But no matter, theyare cooking, --nay, they are cooked. 

One at least is taken off to cool, and will be replaced tomorrow to warmup. It was roasted three hours, and well done, for I tasted it. It isso long since I tasted fresh beef that forgetfulness is possible; butI fancied this to be successful. I tried to imagine that I likedthe Homeric repast, and certainly the whole thing has been far moreagreeable than was to be expected. The doubt now is, whether I have madea sufficient provision for my household. I should have roughly guessedthat ten beeves would feed as many million people, it has such astupendous sound; but General Saxton predicts a small social party offive thousand, and we fear that meat will run short, unless they preferbone. One of the cattle is so small, we are hoping it may turn out veal. 

For drink we aim at the simple luxury of molasses-and-water, a barrelper company, ten in all. Liberal housekeepers may like to know that fora barrel of water we allow three gallons of molasses, half a pound ofginger, and a quart of vinegar, --this last being a new ingredient for myuntutored palate, though all the rest are amazed at my ignorance. Hard bread, with more molasses, and a dessert of tobacco, complete thefestive repast, destined to cheer, but not inebriate. 

On this last point, of inebriation, this is certainly a wonderful camp. For us it is absolutely omitted from the list of vices. I have neverheard of a glass of liquor in the camp, nor of any effort either tobring it in or to keep it out. A total absence of the circulating mediummight explain the abstinence, --not that it seems to have that effectwith white soldiers, --but it would not explain the silence. The cravingfor tobacco is constant, and not to be allayed, like that of a motherfor her children; but I have never heard whiskey even wished for, saveon Christmas-Day, and then only by one man, and he spoke with a hopelessideal sighing, as one alludes to the Golden Age. I am amazed at thistotal omission of the most inconvenient of all camp appetites. Itcertainly is not the result of exhortation, for there has been nooccasion for any, and even the pledge would scarcely seem efficaciouswhere hardly anybody can write. 

I do not think there is a great visible eagerness for tomorrow'sfestival: it is not their way to be very jubilant over anything thisside of the New Jerusalem. They know also that those in this Departmentare nominally free already, and that the practical freedom has to bemaintained, in any event, by military success. But they will enjoy itgreatly, and we shall have a multitude of people. 

January 1, 1863 (evening). 

A happy New Year to civilized people, --mere white folks. Our festivalhas come and gone, with perfect success, and our good General has beenaltogether satisfied. Last night the great fires were kept smoulderingin the pit, and the beeves were cooked more or less, chieflymore, --during which time they had to be carefully watched, and thegreat spits turned by main force. Happy were the merry fellows who werepermitted to sit up all night, and watch the glimmering flames thatthrew a thousand fantastic shadows among the great gnarled oaks. Andsuch a chattering as I was sure to hear whenever I awoke that night!

My first greeting to-day was from one of the most stylish sergeants, whoapproached me with the following little speech, evidently the result ofsome elaboration:--

"I tink myself happy, dis New Year's Day, for salute my own Cunnel. Dis day las' year I was servant to a Gunnel ob Secesh; but now I hab deprivilege for salute my own Cunnel. "

That officer, with the utmost sincerity, reciprocated the sentiment. 

About ten o'clock the people began to collect by land, and also bywater, --in steamers sent by General Saxton for the purpose; and fromthat time all the avenues of approach were thronged. The multitude werechiefly colored women, with gay handkerchiefs on their heads, and asprinkling of men, with that peculiarly respectable look which thesepeople always have on Sundays and holidays. There were many whitevisitors also, --ladies on horseback and in carriages, superintendentsand teachers, officers, and cavalry-men. Our companies were marched tothe neighborhood of the platform, and allowed to sit or stand, as at theSunday services; the platform was occupied by ladies and dignitaries, and by the band of the Eighth Maine, which kindly volunteered for theoccasion; the colored people filled up all the vacant openings in thebeautiful grove around, and there was a cordon of mounted visitorsbeyond. Above, the great live-oak branches and their trailing moss;beyond the people, a glimpse of the blue river. 

The services began at half past eleven o'clock, with prayer by ourchaplain, Mr. Fowler, who is always, on such occasions, simple, reverential, and impressive. Then the President's Proclamation wasread by Dr. W. H. Brisbane, a thing infinitely appropriate, a SouthCarolinian addressing South Carolinians; for he was reared among thesevery islands, and here long since emancipated his own slaves. Thenthe colors were presented to us by the Rev. Mr. French, a chaplain whobrought them from the donors in New York. All this was according to theprogramme. Then followed an incident so simple, so touching, so utterlyunexpected and startling, that I can scarcely believe it on recalling, though it gave the keynote to the whole day. The very moment the speakerhad ceased, and just as I took and waved the flag, which now for thefirst time meant anything to these poor people, there suddenly arose, close beside the platform, a strong male voice (but rather cracked andelderly), into which two women's voices instantly blended, singing, asif by an impulse that could no more be repressed than the morning noteof the song-sparrow. --

 "My Country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing!"

People looked at each other, and then at us on the platform, to seewhence came this interruption, not set down in the bills. Firmly andirrepressibly the quavering voices sang on, verse after verse; others ofthe colored people joined in; some whites on the platform began, but Imotioned them to silence. I never saw anything so electric; it madeall other words cheap; it seemed the choked voice of a race at lastunloosed. Nothing could be more wonderfully unconscious; art couldnot have dreamed of a tribute to the day of jubilee that should be soaffecting; history will not believe it; and when I came to speak of it, after it was ended, tears were everywhere. If you could have heard howquaint and innocent it was! Old Tiff and his children might have sungit; and close before me was a little slave-boy, almost white, who seemedto belong to the party, and even he must join in. Just think of it!--thefirst day they had ever had a country, the first flag they had ever seenwhich promised anything to their people, and here, while mere spectatorsstood in silence, waiting for my stupid words, these simple souls burstout in their lay, as if they were by their own hearths at home! Whenthey stopped, there was nothing to do for it but to speak, and I wenton; but the life of the whole day was in those unknown people's song. 

Receiving the flags, I gave them into the hands of two fine-lookingmen, jet black, as color-guard, and they also spoke, and veryeffectively, --Sergeant Prince Rivers and Corporal Robert Sutton. Theregiment sang "Marching Along, " and then General Saxton spoke, in hisown simple, manly way, and Mrs. Francis D. Gage spoke very sensibly tothe women, and Judge Stickney, from Florida, added something; then somegentleman sang an ode, and the regiment the John Brown song, and thenthey went to their beef and molasses. Everything was very orderly, andthey seemed to have a very gay time. Most of the visitors had far to go, and so dispersed before dress-parade, though the band stayed to enlivenit. In the evening we had letters from home, and General Saxton had areception at his house, from which I excused myself; and so ended oneof the most enthusiastic and happy gatherings I ever knew. The day wasperfect, and there was nothing but success. 

I forgot to say, that, in the midst of the services, it was announcedthat General Fremont was appointed Commander-in-Chief, --an announcementwhich was received with immense cheering, as would have been almostanything else, I verily believe, at that moment of high tide. It wasshouted across by the pickets above, --a way in which we often receivenews, but not always trustworthy. 

January 3, 1863. 

Once, and once only, thus far, the water has frozen in my tent; andthe next morning showed a dense white frost outside. We have stillmocking-birds and crickets and rosebuds, and occasional noonday baths inthe river, though the butterflies have vanished, as I remember to haveobserved in Fayal, after December. I have been here nearly six weekswithout a rainy day; one or two slight showers there have been, onceinterrupting a drill, but never dress-parade. For climate, by day, we might be among the isles of Greece, --though it may be my constantfamiliarity with the names of her sages which suggests that impression. For instance, a voice just now called, near my tent, --"Cato, whar'sPlato?" The men have somehow got the impression that it is essential tothe validity of a marriage that they should come to me for permission, just as they used to go to the master; and I rather encourage theselittle confidences, because it is so entertaining to hear them. "Now, Cunnel, " said a faltering swam the other day, "I want for get me onegood lady, " which I approved, especially the limitation as to number. Afterwards I asked one of the bridegroom's friends whether he thoughtit a good match. "O yes, Cunnel, " said he, in all the cordiality offriendship, "John's gwine for marry Venus. " I trust the goddess willprove herself a better lady than she appeared during her previous careerupon this planet. But this naturally suggests the isles of Greece again. 

January 7. 

On first arriving, I found a good deal of anxiety among the officers asto the increase of desertions, that being the rock on which the "HunterRegiment" split. Now this evil is very nearly stopped, and we are everyday recovering the older absentees. One of the very best things thathave happened to us was the half-accidental shooting of a man whohad escaped from the guard-house, and was wounded by a squad sent inpursuit. He has since died; and this very eve-rung another man, whoescaped with him, came and opened the door of my tent, after being fivedays in the woods, almost without food. His clothes were in rags, and hewas nearly starved, poor foolish fellow, so that we can almost dispensewith further punishment. Severe penalties would be wasted on thesepeople, accustomed as they have been to the most violent passions on thepart of white men; but a mild inexorableness tells on them, just as itdoes on any other children. It is something utterly new to me, and itis thus far perfectly efficacious. They have a great deal of pride assoldiers, and a very little of severity goes a great way, if it be firmand consistent. This is very encouraging. 

The single question which I asked of some of the plantationsuperintendents, on the voyage, was, "Do these people appreciate_justice_?" If they did it was evident that all the rest would be easy. When a race is degraded beyond that point it must be very hard to dealwith them; they must mistake all kindness for indulgence, all strictnessfor cruelty. With these freed slaves there is no such trouble, not aparticle: let an officer be only just and firm, with a cordial, kindlynature, and he has no sort of difficulty. The plantation superintendentsand teachers have the same experience, they say; but we have an immenseadvantage in the military organization, which helps in two ways: itincreases their self-respect, and it gives us an admirable machinery fordiscipline, thus improving both the fulcrum and the lever. 

The wounded man died in the hospital, and the general verdict seemed tobe, "Him brought it on heself. " Another soldier died of pneumonia onthe same day, and we had the funerals in the evening. It was veryimpressive. A dense mist came up, with a moon behind it, and we had onlythe light of pine-splinters, as the procession wound along beneath themighty, moss-hung branches of the ancient grove. The groups around thegrave, the dark faces, the red garments, the scattered lights, themisty boughs, were weird and strange. The men sang one of their own wildchants. Two crickets sang also, one on either side, and did not ceasetheir little monotone, even when the three volleys were fired above thegraves. Just before the coffins were lowered, an old man whispered to methat I must have their position altered, --the heads must be towards thewest; so it was done, --though they are in a place so veiled in woodsthat either rising or setting sun will find it hard to spy them. 

We have now a good regimental hospital, admirably arranged in a desertedgin-house, --a fine well of our own digging, within the camp lines, --afull allowance of tents, all floored, --a wooden cook-house to everycompany, with sometimes a palmetto mess-house beside, --a substantialwooden guard-house, with a fireplace five feet "in de clar, " wherethe men off duty can dry themselves and sleep comfortably in bunksafterwards. We have also a great circular school-tent, made of condemnedcanvas, thirty feet in diameter, and looking like some of the Indianlodges I saw in Kansas. We now meditate a regimental bakery. Ouraggregate has increased from four hundred and ninety to seven hundredand forty, besides a hundred recruits now waiting at St. Augustine, andwe have practised through all the main movements in battalion drill. 

Affairs being thus prosperous, and yesterday having been six weeks sincemy last and only visit to Beaufort, I rode in, glanced at several camps, and dined with the General. It seemed absolutely like re-entering theworld; and I did not fully estimate my past seclusion till it occurredto me, as a strange and novel phenomenon, that the soldiers at the othercamps were white. 

January 8. 

This morning I went to Beaufort again, on necessary business, and bygood luck happened upon a review and drill of the white regiments. Thething that struck me most was that same absence of uniformity, in minorpoints, that I noticed at first in my own officers. The best regimentsin the Department are represented among my captains and lieutenants, andvery well represented too; yet it has cost much labor to bring themto any uniformity in their drill. There is no need of this; for theprescribed "Tactics" approach perfection; it is never left discretionaryin what place an officer shall stand, or in what words he shall give hisorder. All variation would seem to imply negligence. Yet even West Pointoccasionally varies from the "Tactics, "--as, for instance, in requiringthe line officers to face down the line, when each is giving the orderto his company. In our strictest Massachusetts regiments this is notdone. 

It needs an artist's eye to make a perfect drill-master. Yet the smallpoints are not merely a matter of punctilio; for, the more perfectlya battalion is drilled on the parade-ground the more quietly it can behandled in action. Moreover, the great need of uniformity is this: that, in the field, soldiers of different companies, and even of differentregiments, are liable to be intermingled, and a diversity of orders maythrow everything into confusion. Confusion means Bull Run. 

I wished my men at the review to-day; for, amidst all the rattling andnoise of artillery and the galloping of cavalry, there was only oneinfantry movement that we have not practised, and that was done by onlyone regiment, and apparently considered quite a novelty, though it iseasily taught, --forming square by Casey's method: forward on centre. It is really justas easy to drill a regiment as a company, --perhaps easier, because one has more time to think; but it is just asessential to be sharp and decisive, perfectly clearheaded, and to putlife into the men. A regiment seems small when one has learned how tohandle it, a mere handful of men; and I have no doubt that a brigadeor a division would soon appear equally small. But to handle either_judiciously_, ah, that is another affair!

So of governing; it is as easy to govern a regiment as a school or afactory, and needs like qualities, system, promptness, patience, tact;moreover, in a regiment one has the aid of the admirable machinery ofthe army, so that I see very ordinary men who succeed very tolerably. 

Reports of a six months' armistice are rife here, and the thought isdeplored by all. I cannot believe it; yet sometimes one feels veryanxious about the ultimate fate of these poor people. After theexperience of Hungary, one sees that revolutions may go backward; andthe habit of injustice seems so deeply impressed upon the whites, thatit is hard to believe in the possibility of anything better. I dare notyet hope that the promise of the President's Proclamation will be kept. For myself I can be indifferent, for the experience here has been itsown daily and hourly reward; and the adaptedness of the freed slaves fordrill and discipline is now thoroughly demonstrated, and must soon beuniversally acknowledged. But it would be terrible to see this regimentdisbanded or defrauded. 

January 12. 

Many things glide by without time to narrate them. On Saturday we had amail with the President's Second Message of Emancipation, and the nextday it was read to the men. The words themselves did not stir them verymuch, because they have been often told that they were free, especiallyon New Year's Day, and, being unversed in politics, they do notunderstand, as well as we do, the importance of each additionalguaranty. But the chaplain spoke to them afterwards very effectively, as usual; and then I proposed to them to hold up their hands and pledgethemselves to be faithful to those still in bondage. They enteredheartily into this, and the scene was quite impressive, beneath thegreat oak-branches. I heard afterwards that only one man refused toraise his hand, saying bluntly that his wife was out of slavery withhim, and he did not care to fight. The other soldiers of his companywere very indignant, and shoved him about among them while marching backto their quarters, calling him "Coward. " I was glad of their exhibitionof feeling, though it is very possible that the one who had thus themoral courage to stand alone among his comrades might be more reliable, on a pinch, than some who yielded a more ready assent. But the wholeresponse, on their part, was very hearty, and will be a good thingto which to hold them hereafter, at any time of discouragement ordemoralization, --which was my chief reason for proposing it. Withtheir simple natures it is a great thing to tie them to some definitecommittal; they never forget a marked occurrence, and never seemdisposed to evade a pledge. 

It is this capacity of honor and fidelity which gives me such entirefaith in them as soldiers. Without it all their religious demonstrationwould be mere sentimentality. For instance, every one who visits thecamp is struck with their bearing as sentinels. They exhibit, in thiscapacity, not an upstart conceit, but a steady, conscientious devotionto duty. They would stop their idolized General Saxton, if he attemptedto cross their beat contrary to orders: I have seen them. No feeble orincompetent race could do this. The officers tell many amusing instancesof this fidelity, but I think mine the best. 

It was very dark the other night, an unusual thing here, and the rainfell in torrents; so I put on my India-rubber suit, and went the roundsof the sentinels, incognito, to test them. I can only say that I shallnever try such an experiment again and have cautioned my officersagainst it. Tis a wonder I escaped with life and limb, --such a chargingof bayonets and clicking of gun-locks. Sometimes I tempted them byrefusing to give any countersign, but offering them a piece of tobacco, which they could not accept without allowing me nearer than theprescribed bayonet's distance. Tobacco is more than gold to them, and itwas touching to watch the struggle in their minds; but they always didtheir duty at last, and I never could persuade them. One man, as ifwishing to crush all his inward vacillation at one fell stroke, toldme stoutly that he never used tobacco, though I found next day that heloved it as much as any one of them. It seemed wrong thus to tamper withtheir fidelity; yet it was a vital matter to me to know how far it couldbe trusted, out of my sight. It was so intensely dark that not more thanone or two knew me, even after I had talked with the very next sentinel, especially as they had never seen me in India-rubber clothing, and I canalways disguise my voice. It was easy to distinguish those who did makethe discovery; they were always conscious and simpering when their turncame; while the others were stout and irreverent till I revealed myself, and then rather cowed and anxious, fearing to have offended. 

It rained harder and harder, and when I had nearly made the rounds I hadhad enough of it, and, simply giving the countersign to the challengingsentinel, undertook to pass within the lines. 

"Halt!" exclaimed this dusky man and brother, bringing down his bayonet, "de countersign not correck. "

Now the magic word, in this case, was "Vicksburg, " in honor of a rumoredvictory. But as I knew that these hard names became quite transformedupon their lips, "Carthage" being familiarized into Cartridge, and"Concord" into Corn-cob, how could I possibly tell what shade ofpronunciation my friend might prefer for this particular proper name?

"Vicksburg, " I repeated, blandly, but authoritatively, endeavoring, aszealously as one of Christy's Minstrels, to assimilate my speech to anysupposed predilection of the Ethiop vocal organs. 

"Halt dar! Countersign not correck, " was the only answer. 

The bayonet still maintained a position which, in a military point ofview, was impressive. 

I tried persuasion, orthography, threats, tobacco, all in vain. Icould not pass in. Of course my pride was up; for was I to defer toan untutored African on a point of pronunciation? Classic shades ofHarvard, forbid! Affecting scornful indifference, I tried to edge away, proposing to myself to enter the camp at some other point, where myelocution would be better appreciated. Not a step could I stir. 

"Halt!" shouted my gentleman again, still holding me at his bayonet'spoint, and I wincing and halting. 

I explained to him the extreme absurdity of this proceeding, called hisattention to the state of the weather, which, indeed, spoke for itselfso loudly that we could hardly hear each other speak, and requestedpermission to withdraw. The bayonet, with mute eloquence, refused theapplication. 

There flashed into my mind, with more enjoyment in the retrospect thanI had experienced at the time, an adventure on a lecturing tour in otheryears, when I had spent an hour in trying to scramble into a countrytavern, after bed-time, on the coldest night of winter. On that occasionI ultimately found myself stuck midway in the window, with my head in atemperature of 80 degrees, and my heels in a temperature of -10 degrees, with a heavy windowsash pinioning the small of my back. However, I hadgot safe out of that dilemma, and it was time to put an end to this one, "Call the corporal of the guard, " said I at last, with dignity, unwilling to make a night of it or to yield my incognito. 

"Corporal ob de guard!" he shouted, lustily, --"Post Number Two!" whileI could hear another sentinel chuckling with laughter. This last was aspecial guard, placed over a tent, with a prisoner in charge. Presentlyhe broke silence. 

"Who am dat?" he asked, in a stage whisper. "Am he a buckra [whiteman]?"

"Dunno whether he been a buckra or not, " responded, doggedly, myCerberus in uniform; "but I's bound to keep him here till de corporal obde guard come. "

Yet, when that dignitary arrived, and I revealed myself, poor Number Twoappeared utterly transfixed with terror, and seemed to look for nothingless than immediate execution. Of course I praised his fidelity, andthe next day complimented him before the guard, and mentioned him to hiscaptain; and the whole affair was very good for them all. Hereafter, ifSatan himself should approach them in darkness and storm, they will take_him_ for "de Cunnel, " and treat him with special severity. 

January 13. 

In many ways the childish nature of this people shows itself. I havejust had to make a change of officers in a company which has constantlycomplained, and with good reason, of neglect and improper treatment. Two excellent officers have been assigned to them; and yet they sent adeputation to me in the evening, in a state of utter wretchedness. "We'sbery grieved dis evening, Cunnel; 'pears like we couldn't bear it, tolose de Cap'n and de Lieutenant, all two togeder. " Argument was useless;and I could only fall back on the general theory, that I knew what wasbest for them, which had much more effect; and I also could cite theinstance of another company, which had been much improved by a newcaptain, as they readily admitted. So with the promise that the newofficers should not be "savage to we, " which was the one thing theydeprecated, I assuaged their woes. Twenty-four hours have passed, and Ihear them singing most merrily all down that company street. 

I often notice how their griefs may be dispelled, like those ofchildren, merely by permission to utter them: if they can tell theirsorrows, they go away happy, even without asking to have anything doneabout them. I observe also a peculiar dislike of all _intermediate_control: they always wish to pass by the company officer, and deal withme personally for everything. General Saxton notices the same thingwith the people on the plantations as regards himself. I suppose thisproceeds partly from the old habit of appealing to the master againstthe overseer. Kind words would cost the master nothing, and he couldeasily put off any non-fulfilment upon the overseer. Moreover, thenegroes have acquired such constitutional distrust of white people, thatit is perhaps as much as they can do to trust more than one person ata tune. Meanwhile this constant personal intercourse is out of thequestion in a well-ordered regiment; and the remedy for it is tointroduce by degrees more and more of system, so that their immediateofficers will become all-sufficient for the daily routine. 

It is perfectly true (as I find everybody takes for granted) thatthe first essential for an officer of colored troops is to gaintheir confidence. But it is equally true, though many persons do notappreciate it, that the admirable methods and proprieties of the regulararmy are equally available for all troops, and that the sublimestphilanthropist, if he does not appreciate this, is unfit to commandthem. 

Another childlike attribute in these men, which is less agreeable, is asort of blunt insensibility to giving physical pain. If they are cruelto animals, for instance, it always reminds me of children pulling offflies' legs, in a sort of pitiless, untaught, experimental way. Yet Ishould not fear any wanton outrage from them. After all their wrongs, they are not really revengeful; and I would far rather enter acaptured city with them than with white troops, for they would be moresubordinate. But for mere physical suffering they would have no finesympathies. The cruel things they have seen and undergone have helped toblunt them; and if I ordered them to put to death a dozen prisoners, Ithink they would do it without remonstrance. 

Yet their religious spirit grows more beautiful to me in living longerwith them; it is certainly far more so than at first, when it seemedrather a matter of phrase and habit. It influences them both on thenegative and the positive side. That is, it cultivates the femininevirtues first, --makes them patient, meek, resigned. This is very evidentin the hospital; there is nothing of the restless, defiant habit ofwhite invalids. Perhaps, if they had more of this, they would resistdisease better. Imbued from childhood with the habit of submission, drinking in through every pore that other-world trust which is the onespirit of their songs, they can endure everything. This I expected;but I am relieved to find that their religion strengthens them on thepositive side also, --gives zeal, energy, daring. They could easily bemade fanatics, if I chose; but I do not choose. Their whole mood isessentially Mohammedan, perhaps, in its strength and its weakness; andI feel the same degree of sympathy that I should if I had a Turkishcommand, --that is, a sort of sympathetic admiration, not tending towardsagreement, but towards co-operation. Their philosophizing is often thehighest form of mysticism; and our dear surgeon declares that they areall natural transcendentalists. The white camps seem rough and secular, after this; and I hear our men talk about "a religious army, " "a Gospelarmy, " in their prayer-meetings. They are certainly evangelizing thechaplain, who was rather a heretic at the beginning; at least, this ishis own admission. We have recruits on their way from St. Augustine, where the negroes are chiefly Roman Catholics; and it will beinteresting to see how their type of character combines with that eldercreed. It is time for rest; and I have just looked out into the night, where the eternal stars shut down, in concave protection, over the yetglimmering camp, and Orion hangs above my tent-door, giving to me thesense of strength and assurance which these simple children obtain fromtheir Moses and the Prophets. Yet external Nature does its share intheir training; witness that most poetic of all their songs, whichalways reminds me of the "Lyke-Wake Dirge" in the "Scottish BorderMinstrelsy, "--

 "I know moon-rise, I know star-rise; Lay dis body down. I walk in de moonlight, I walk in de starlight, To lay dis body down. I'll walk in de graveyard, I'll walk through de graveyard, To lay dis body down. I'll lie in de grave and stretch out my arms; Lay dis body down. I go to de Judgment in de evening ob de day When I lay dis body down; And my soul and your soul will meet in de day When I lay dis body down. "

January 14. 

In speaking of the military qualities of the blacks, I should add, thatthe only point where I am disappointed is one I have never seen raisedby the most incredulous newspaper critics, --namely, theirphysical condition. To be sure they often look magnificently tomy gymnasium-trained eye; and I always like to observe them whenbathing, --such splendid muscular development, set off by that smoothcoating of adipose tissue which makes them, like the South-Sea Islandersappear even more muscular than they are. Their skins are also of finergrain than those of whites, the surgeons say, and certainly are smootherand far more free from hair. But their weakness is pulmonary; pneumoniaand pleurisy are their besetting ailments; they are easily madeill, --and easily cured, if promptly treated: childish organizationsagain. Guard-duty injures them more than whites, apparently; anddouble-quick movements, in choking dust, set them coughing badly. Butthen it is to be remembered that this is their sickly season, fromJanuary to March, and that their healthy season will come in summer, when the whites break down. Still my conviction of the physicalsuperiority of more highly civilized races is strengthened on the whole, not weakened, by observing them. As to availability for military drilland duty in other respects, the only question I ever hear debated amongthe officers is, whether they are equal or superior to whites. I havenever heard it suggested that they were inferior, although I expectedfrequently to hear such complaints from hasty or unsuccessful officers. 

Of one thing I am sure, that their best qualities will be wasted bymerely keeping them for garrison duty. They seem peculiarly fitted foroffensive operations, and especially for partisan warfare; they have somuch dash and such abundant resources, combined with such an Indian-likeknowledge of the country and its ways. These traits have been oftenillustrated in expeditions sent after deserters. For instance, Idespatched one of my best lieutenants and my best sergeant with a squadof men to search a certain plantation, where there were two separatenegro villages. They went by night, and the force was divided. Thelieutenant took one set of huts, the sergeant the other. Before thelieutenant had reached his first house, every man in the village wasin the woods, innocent and guilty alike. But the sergeant's mode ofoperation was thus described by a corporal from a white regiment whohappened to be in one of the negro houses. He said that not a sound washeard until suddenly a red leg appeared in the open doorway, and a voiceoutside said, "Rally. " Going to the door, he observed a similar pair ofred legs before every hut, and not a person was allowed to go out, until the quarters had been thoroughly searched, and the three desertersfound. This was managed by Sergeant Prince Rivers, our color-sergeant, who is provost-sergeant also, and has entire charge of the prisonersand of the daily policing of the camp. He is a man of distinguishedappearance, and in old times was the crack coachman of Beaufort, in which capacity he once drove Beauregard from this plantation toCharleston, I believe. They tell me that he was once allowed to presenta petition to the Governor of South Carolina in behalf of slaves, forthe redress of certain grievances; and that a placard, offering twothousand dollars for his recapture, is still to be seen by the waysidebetween here and Charleston. He was a sergeant in the old "HunterRegiment, " and was taken by General Hunter to New York last spring, where the _chevrons_ on his arm brought a mob upon him in Broadway, whomhe kept off till the police interfered. There is not a white officerin this regiment who has more administrative ability, or more absoluteauthority over the men; they do not love him, but his mere presence hascontrolling power over them. He writes well enough to prepare for mea daily report of his duties in the camp; if his education reached ahigher point, I see no reason why he should not command the Army of thePotomac. He is jet-black, or rather, I should say, _wine-black_; hiscomplexion, like that of others of my darkest men, having a sort ofrich, clear depth, without a trace of sootiness, and to my eye veryhandsome. His features are tolerably regular, and full of command, andhis figure superior to that of any of our white officers, --being sixfeet high, perfectly proportioned, and of apparently inexhaustiblestrength and activity. His gait is like a panther's; I never saw such atread. No anti-slavery novel has described a man of such marked ability. He makes Toussaint perfectly intelligible; and if there should ever be ablack monarchy in South Carolina, he will be its king. 

January 15. 

This morning is like May. Yesterday I saw bluebirds and a butterfly;so this whiter of a fortnight is over. I fancy there is a trifle lesscoughing in the camp. We hear of other stations in the Department wherethe mortality, chiefly from yellow fever, has been frightful. Dr. ---- is rubbing his hands professionally over the fearful tales of thesurgeon of a New York regiment, just from Key West, who has had twohundred cases of the fever. "I suppose he is a skilful, highly educatedman, " said I. "Yes, " he responded with enthusiasm. "Why, he had seventydeaths!"--as if that proved his superiority past question. 

January 19. 

"And first, sitting proud as a lung on his throne, At the head of themall rode Sir Richard Tyrone. "

But I fancy that Sir Richard felt not much better satisfied with hisfollowing than I to-day. J. R. L. Said once that nothing was quiteso good as turtle-soup, except mock-turtle; and I have heard officersdeclare that nothing was so stirring as real war, except some excitingparade. To-day, for the first time, I marched the whole regiment throughBeaufort and back, --the first appearance of such a novelty on anystage. They did march splendidly; this all admit. M----'s predictionwas fulfilled: "Will not ---- be in bliss? A thousand men, every oneas black as a coal!" I confess it. To look back on twenty broaddouble-ranks of men (for they marched by platoons), --every polishedmusket having a black face beside it, and every face set steadily to thefront, --a regiment of freed slaves marching on into the future, --it wassomething to remember; and when they returned through the same streets, marching by the flank, with guns at a "support, " and each man coveringhis file-leader handsomely, the effect on the eye was almost as fine. The band of the Eighth Maine joined us at the entrance of the town, and escorted us in. Sergeant Rivers said ecstatically afterwards, indescribing the affair, "And when dat band wheel in before us, and marchon, --my God! I quit dis world altogeder. " I wonder if he pictured tohimself the many dusky regiments, now unformed, which I seemed to seemarching up behind us, gathering shape out of the dim air. 

I had cautioned the men, before leaving camp, not to be staring aboutthem as they marched, but to look straight to the front, every man;and they did it with their accustomed fidelity, aided by the sort ofspontaneous eye-for-effect which is in all their melodramatic natures. One of them was heard to say exultingly afterwards, "We didn't look tode right nor to de leff. I didn't see notin' in Beaufort. Eb'ry step wasworth a half a dollar. " And they all marched as if it were so. They knewwell that they were marching through throngs of officers and soldierswho had drilled as many months as we had drilled weeks, and whose eyeswould readily spy out every defect. And I must say, that, on the whole, with a few trivial exceptions, those spectators behaved in a manlyand courteous manner, and I do not care to write down all the handsomethings that were said. Whether said or not, they were deserved; andthere is no danger that our men will not take sufficient satisfaction intheir good appearance. I was especially amused at one of our recruits, who did not march in the ranks, and who said, after watching theastonishment of some white soldiers, "De buckra sojers look like a manwho been-a-steal a sheep, "--that is, I suppose, sheepish. 

After passing and repassing through the town, we marched to theparade-ground, and went through an hour's drill, forming squares andreducing them, and doing other things which look hard on paper, and areperfectly easy in fact; and we were to have been reviewed by GeneralSaxton, but he had been unexpectedly called to Ladies Island, and didnot see us at all, which was the only thing to mar the men's enjoyment. Then we marched back to camp (three miles), the men singing the "JohnBrown Song, " and all manner of things, --as happy creatures as one canwell conceive. 

It is worth mentioning, before I close, that we have just received anarticle about "Negro Troops, " from the _London Spectator_, which is soadmirably true to our experience that it seems as if written by one ofus. I am confident that there never has been, in any American newspaper, a treatment of the subject so discriminating and so wise. 

January 21. 

To-day brought a visit from Major-General Hunter and his staff, byGeneral Saxton's invitation, --the former having just arrived in theDepartment. I expected them at dress-parade, but they came duringbattalion drill, rather to my dismay, and we were caught in our oldclothes. It was our first review, and I dare say we did tolerably;but of course it seemed to me that the men never appeared so illbefore, --just as one always thinks a party at one's own house a failure, even if the guests seem to enjoy it, because one is so keenly sensitiveto every little thing that goes wrong. After review and drill, GeneralHunter made the men a little speech, at my request, and told them thathe wished there were fifty thousand of them. General Saxton spoke tothem afterwards, and said that fifty thousand muskets were on their wayfor colored troops. The men cheered both the generals lustily; and theywere complimentary afterwards, though I knew that the regiment could nothave appeared nearly so well as on its visit to Beaufort. I suppose Ifelt like some anxious mamma whose children have accidentally appearedat dancing-school in their old clothes. 

General Hunter promises us all we want, --pay when the funds arrive, Springfield rifled muskets, and blue trousers. Moreover, he hasgraciously consented that we should go on an expedition along the coast, to pick up cotton, lumber, and, above all, recruits. I declined an offerlike this just after my arrival, because the regiment was not drilled ordisciplined, not even the officers; but it is all we wish for now. 

 "What care I how black I be? Forty pounds will marry me, "

quoth Mother Goose. _Forty rounds_ will marry us to the American Army, past divorcing, if we can only use them well. Our success or failure maymake or mar the prospects of colored troops. But it is well to rememberin advance that military success is really less satisfactory than anyother, because it may depend on a moment's turn of events, and thatmay be determined by some trivial thing, neither to be anticipated norcontrolled. Napoleon ought to have won at Waterloo by all reasonablecalculations; but who cares? All that one can expect is, to do one'sbest, and to take with equanimity the fortune of war. 

Chapter 3. Up the St. Mary's

If Sergeant Rivers was a natural king among my dusky soldiers, CorporalRobert Sutton was the natural prime-minister. If not in all respects theablest, he was the wisest man in our ranks. As large, as powerful, andas black as our good-looking Color-Sergeant, but more heavily built andwith less personal beauty, he had a more massive brain and a far moremeditative and systematic intellect. Not yet grounded even in thespelling-book, his modes of thought were nevertheless strong, lucid, andaccurate; and he yearned and pined for intellectual companionship beyondall ignorant men whom I have ever met. I believe that he would havetalked all day and all night, for days together, to any officerwho could instruct him, until his companions, at least, fell asleepexhausted. His comprehension of the whole problem of Slavery was morethorough and far-reaching than that of any Abolitionist, so far as itssocial and military aspects went; in that direction I could teach himnothing, and he taught me much. But it was his methods of thought whichalways impressed me chiefly: superficial brilliancy he left to others, and grasped at the solid truth. 

Of course his interest in the war and in the regiment was unbounded; hedid not take to drill with especial readiness, but he was insatiableof it, and grudged every moment of relaxation. Indeed, he never hadany such moments; his mind was at work all the time, even when he wassinging hymns, of which he had endless store. He was not, however, oneof our leading religionists, but his moral code was solid and reliable, like his mental processes. Ignorant as he was, the "years that bring thephilosophic mind" had yet been his, and most of my young officers seemedboys beside him. He was a Florida man, and had been chiefly employed inlumbering and piloting on the St. Mary's River, which divides Floridafrom Georgia. Down this stream he had escaped in a "dug-out, " and afterthus finding the way, had returned (as had not a few of my men in othercases) to bring away wife and child. "I wouldn't have left my child, Cunnel, " he said, with an emphasis that sounded the depths of his strongnature. And up this same river he was always imploring to be allowed toguide an expedition. 

Many other men had rival propositions to urge, for they gainedself-confidence from drill and guard-duty, and were growing impatient ofinaction. "Ought to go to work, Sa, --don't believe in we lyin' in campeatin' up de perwisions. " Such were the quaint complaints, which I heardwith joy. Looking over my note-books of that period, I find them filledwith topographical memoranda, jotted down by a flickering candle, fromthe evening talk of the men, --notes of vulnerable points alongthe coast, charts of rivers, locations of pickets. I prized theseconversations not more for what I thus learned of the country than forwhat I learned of the men. One could thus measure their various degreesof accuracy and their average military instinct; and I must say that inevery respect, save the accurate estimate of distances, they stood thetest well. But no project took my fancy so much, after all, as that ofthe delegate from the St. Mary's River. 

The best peg on which to hang an expedition in the Department of theSouth, in those days, was the promise of lumber. Dwelling in the veryland of Southern pine, the Department authorities had to send North forit, at a vast expense. There was reported to be plenty in the enemy'scountry, but somehow the colored soldiers were the only ones who hadbeen lucky enough to obtain any, thus far, and the supply brought in byour men, after flooring the tents of the white regiments and our own, was running low. An expedition of white troops, four companies, with twosteamers and two schooners, had lately returned empty-handed, after aweek's foraging; and now it was our turn. They said the mills were allburned; but should we go up the St. Mary's, Corporal Sutton was preparedto offer more lumber than we had transportation to carry. This madethe crowning charm of his suggestion. But there is never any danger oferring on the side of secrecy, in a military department; and I resolvedto avoid all undue publicity for our plans, by not finally deciding onany until we should get outside the bar. This was happily approved bymy superior officers, Major-General Hunter and Brigadier-General Saxton;and I was accordingly permitted to take three steamers, with fourhundred and sixty-two officers and men, and two or three invitedguests, and go down the coast on my own responsibility. We were, inshort, to win our spurs; and if, as among the Araucanians, our spurswere made of lumber, so much the better. The whole history of theDepartment of the South had been defined as "a military picnic, " and nowwe were to take our share of the entertainment. 

It seemed a pleasant share, when, after the usual vexations and delays, we found ourselves (January 23, 1863) gliding down the full waters ofBeaufort River, the three vessels having sailed at different hours, withorders to rendezvous at St. Simon's Island, on the coast of Georgia. Until then, the flagship, so to speak, was to be the "Ben De Ford, "Captain Hallet, --this being by far the largest vessel, and carrying mostof the men. Major Strong was in command upon the "John Adams, " an armygunboat, carrying a thirty-pound Parrott gun, two ten-pound Parrotts, and an eight-inch howitzer. Captain Trowbridge (since promotedLieutenant-Colonel of the regiment) had charge of the famous "Planter, "brought away from the Rebels by Robert Small; she carried a ten-poundParrott gun, and two howitzers. The John Adams was our main reliance. She was an old East Boston ferry-boat, a "double-ender, " admirable forriver-work, but unfit for sea-service. She drew seven feet of water; thePlanter drew only four; but the latter was very slow, and being obligedto go to St. Simon's by an inner passage, would delay us from thebeginning. She delayed us so much, before the end, that we virtuallyparted company, and her career was almost entirely separated from ourown. 

From boyhood I have had a fancy for boats, and have seldom been withouta share, usually more or less fractional, in a rather indeterminatenumber of punts and wherries. But when, for the first time, I foundmyself at sea as Commodore of a fleet of armed steamers, --for even theBen De Ford boasted a six-pounder or so, --it seemed rather an unexpectedpromotion. But it is a characteristic of army life, that one adaptsone's self, as coolly as in a dream, to the most novel responsibilities. One sits on court-martial, for instance, and decides on the life of afellow-creature, without being asked any inconvenient questions as toprevious knowledge of Blackstone; and after such an experience, shallone shrink from wrecking a steamer or two in the cause of the nation? SoI placidly accepted my naval establishment, as if it were a new form ofboat-club, and looked over the charts, balancing between one river andanother, as if deciding whether to pull up or down Lake Quinsigamond. Ifmilitary life ever contemplated the exercise of the virtue of humilityunder any circumstances this would perhaps have been a good opportunityto begin its practice. But as the "Regulations" clearly contemplatednothing of the kind, and as I had never met with any precedent whichlooked in that direction, I had learned to check promptly all such weakproclivities. 

Captain Hallett proved the most frank and manly of sailors, and dideverything for our comfort. He was soon warm in his praises of thedemeanor of our men, which was very pleasant to hear, as this was thefirst time that colored soldiers in any number had been conveyed onboard a transport, and I know of no place where a white volunteerappears to so much disadvantage. His mind craves occupation, his body isintensely uncomfortable, the daily emergency is not great enough to callout his heroic qualities, and he is apt to be surly, discontented, andimpatient even of sanitary rules. The Southern black soldier, on theother hand, is seldom sea-sick (at least, such is my experience), and, if properly managed, is equally contented, whether idle or busy; he is, moreover, so docile that all needful rules are executed with cheerfulacquiescence, and the quarters can therefore be kept clean andwholesome. Very forlorn faces were soon visible among the officers inthe cabin, but I rarely saw such among the men. 

Pleasant still seemed our enterprise, as we anchored at early morning inthe quiet waters of St. Simon's Sound, and saw the light fall softly onthe beach and the low bluffs, on the picturesque plantation-houses whichnestled there, and the graceful naval vessels that lay at anchor beforeus. When we afterwards landed the air had that peculiar Mediterraneantranslucency which Southern islands wear; and the plantation we visitedhad the loveliest tropical garden, though tangled and desolate, which Ihave ever seen in the South. The deserted house was embowered In greatblossoming shrubs, and filled with hyacinthine odors, among whichpredominated that of the little Chickasaw roses which everywhere bloomedand trailed around. There were fig-trees and date-palms, crape-myrtlesand wax-myrtles, Mexican agaves and English ivies, japonicas, bananas, oranges, lemons, oleanders, jonquils, great cactuses, and wild Floridalilies. This was not the plantation which Mrs. Kemble has since madehistoric, although that was on the same island; and I could not wastemuch sentiment over it, for it had belonged to a Northern renegade, Thomas Butler King. Yet I felt then, as I have felt a hundredtimes since, an emotion of heart-sickness at this desecration of ahomestead, --and especially when, looking from a bare upper window of theempty house upon a range of broad, flat, sunny roofs, such as childrenlove to play on, I thought how that place might have been loved by yetInnocent hearts, and I mourned anew the sacrilege of war. 

I had visited the flag-ship Wabash ere we left Port Royal Harbor, andhad obtained a very kind letter of introduction from Admiral Dupont, that stately and courtly potentate, elegant as one's ideal Frenchmarquis; and under these credentials I received polite attention fromthe naval officers at St. Simon's, --Acting Volunteer Lieutenant Budd, ofthe gunboat Potomska, and Acting Master Moses, of the barque Fernandina. They made valuable suggestions in regard to the different rivers alongthe coast, and gave vivid descriptions of the last previous trip up theSt. Mary's undertaken by Captain Stevens, U. S. N. , in the gunboat Ottawa, when he had to fight his way past batteries at every bluff in descendingthe narrow and rapid stream. I was warned that no resistance would beoffered to the ascent, but only to our return; and was further cautionedagainst the mistake, then common, of underrating the courage of theRebels. "It proved impossible to dislodge those fellows from the banks, "my informant said; "they had dug rifle-pits, and swarmed like hornets, and when fairly silenced in one direction they were sure to open upon usfrom another. " All this sounded alarming, but it was nine months sincethe event had happened; and although nothing had gone up the rivermeanwhile, I counted on less resistance now. And something must berisked anywhere. 

We were delayed all that day in waiting for our consort, andimproved our time by verifying certain rumors about a quantity of newrailroad-iron which was said to be concealed in the abandoned Rebelforts on St. Simon's and Jekyll Islands, and which would have much valueat Port Royal, if we could unearth it. Some of our men had worked uponthese very batteries, so that they could easily guide us; and by theadditional discovery of a large flat-boat we were enabled to go to workin earnest upon the removal of the treasure. These iron bars, surmountedby a dozen feet of sand, formed an invulnerable roof for the magazinesand bomb-proofs of the fort, and the men enjoyed demolishing them farmore than they had relished their construction. Though the day was the24th of January, 1863, the sun was very oppressive upon the sands; butall were in the highest spirits, and worked with the greatest zeal. Themen seemed to regard these massive bars as their first trophies; and ifthe rails had been wreathed with roses, they could not have been got outin more holiday style. Nearly a hundred were obtained that day, besides a quantity of five-inch plank with which to barricade the veryconspicuous pilot-houses of the John Adams. Still another day we weredelayed, and could still keep at this work, not neglecting some foragingon the island from which horses, cattle, and agricultural implementswere to be removed, and the few remaining colored families transferredto Fernandina. I had now become quite anxious about the missingsteamboat, as the inner passage, by which alone she could arrive, wasexposed at certain points to fire from Rebel batteries, and it wouldhave been unpleasant to begin with a disaster. I remember that, as Istood on deck, in the still and misty evening, listening with strainedsenses for some sound of approach, I heard a low continuous noise fromthe distance, more wild and desolate than anything in my memory canparallel. It came from within the vast girdle of mist, and seemed likethe cry of a myriad of lost souls upon the horizon's verge; it was Dantebecome audible: and yet it was but the accumulated cries of innumerableseafowl at the entrance of the outer bay. 

Late that night the Planter arrived. We left St. Simon's on thefollowing morning, reached Fort Clinch by four o'clock, and theretransferring two hundred men to the very scanty quarters of the JohnAdams, allowed the larger transport to go into Fernandina, while thetwo other vessels were to ascend the St. Mary's River, unless (as provedinevitable in the end) the defects in the boiler of the Planter shouldoblige her to remain behind. That night I proposed to make a sort oftrial-trip up stream, as far as Township landing, some fifteen miles, there to pay our respects to Captain Clark's company of cavalry, whosecamp was reported to lie near by. This was included in Corporal Sutton'sprogramme, and seemed to me more inviting, and far more useful tothe men, than any amount of mere foraging. The thing really desirableappeared to be to get them under fire as soon as possible, and to teachthem, by a few small successes, the application of what they had learnedin camp-. 

I had ascertained that the camp of this company lay five miles fromthe landing, and was accessible by two roads, one of which was alumber-path, not commonly used, but which Corporal Sutton had helped toconstruct, and along which he could easily guide us. The plan was to goby night, surround the house and negro cabins at the landing (to preventan alarm from being given), then to take the side path, and if all wentwell, to surprise the camp; but if they got notice of our approach, through their pickets, we should, at worst, have a fight, in which thebest man must win. 

The moon was bright, and the river swift, but easy of navigation thusfar. Just below Township I landed a small advance force, to surroundthe houses silently. With them went Corporal Sutton; and when, afterrounding the point, I went on shore with a larger body of men, he metme with a silent chuckle of delight, and with the information that therewas a negro in a neighboring cabin who had just come from the Rebelcamp, and could give the latest information. While he hunted up thisvaluable auxiliary, I mustered my detachment, winnowing out the men whohad coughs (not a few), and sending them ignominiously on board again: aprocess I had regularly to perform, during this first season of catarrh, on all occasions where quiet was needed. The only exception tolerated atthis time was in the case of one man who offered a solemn pledge, that, if unable to restrain his cough, he would lie down on the ground, scrape a little hole, and cough into it unheard. The ingenuity of thisproposition was irresistible, and the eager patient was allowed to passmuster. 

It was after midnight when we set off upon our excursion. I had abouta hundred men, marching by the flank, with a small advanced guard, and also a few flankers, where the ground permitted. I put my Floridacompany at the head of the column, and had by my side Captain Metcalf, an excellent officer, and Sergeant Mclntyre, his first sergeant. Weplunged presently in pine woods, whose resinous smell I can stillremember. Corporal Sutton marched near me, with his captured negroguide, whose first fear and sullenness had yielded to the magic news ofthe President's Proclamation, then just issued, of which Governor Andrewhad sent me a large printed supply;--we seldom found men who could readit, but they all seemed to feel more secure when they held it in theirhands. We marched on through the woods, with no sound but the peeping ofthe frogs in a neighboring marsh, and the occasional yelping of adog, as we passed the hut of some "cracker. " This yelping always madeCorporal Sutton uneasy; dogs are the detective officers of Slavery'spolice. 

We had halted once or twice to close up the ranks, and had marched sometwo miles, seeing and hearing nothing more. I had got all I could out ofour new guide, and was striding on, rapt in pleasing contemplation. All had gone so smoothly that I had merely to fancy the rest as beingequally smooth. Already I fancied our little detachment bursting outof the woods, in swift surprise, upon the Rebel quarters, --alreadythe opposing commander, after hastily firing a charge or two from hisrevolver (of course above my head), had yielded at discretion, and wasgracefully tendering, in a stage attitude, his unavailing sword, --whensuddenly--

There was a trampling of feet among the advanced guard as they cameconfusedly to a halt, and almost at the same instant a more ominoussound, as of galloping horses in the path before us. The moonlightoutside the woods gave that dimness of atmosphere within which is morebewildering than darkness, because the eyes cannot adapt themselves toit so well. Yet I fancied, and others aver, that they saw the leaderof an approaching party mounted on a white horse and reining up in thepathway; others, again, declare that he drew a pistol from the holsterand took aim; others heard the words, "Charge in upon them! Surroundthem!" But all this was confused by the opening rifle-shots of ouradvanced guard, and, as clear observation was impossible, I made themen fix their bayonets and kneel in the cover on each side the pathway, and I saw with delight the brave fellows, with Sergeant Mclntyre attheir head, settling down in the grass as coolly and warily as if wildturkeys were the only game. Perhaps at the first shot a man fell atmy elbow. I felt it no more than if a tree had fallen, --I was so busywatching my own men and the enemy, and planning what to do next. Some ofour soldiers, misunderstanding the order, "Fix bayonets, " were actually_charging_ with them, dashing off into the dim woods, with nothing tocharge at but the vanishing tail of an imaginary horse, --for we couldreally see nothing. This zeal I noted with pleasure, and also withanxiety, as our greatest danger was from confusion and scattering; andfor infantry to pursue cavalry would be a novel enterprise. CaptainMetcalf stood by me well in keeping the men steady, as did AssistantSurgeon Minor, and Lieutenant, now Captain, Jackson. How the men in therear were behaving I could not tell, --not so coolly, I afterwards found, because they were more entirely bewildered, supposing, until the shotscame, that the column had simply halted for a moment's rest, as hadbeen done once or twice before. They did not know who or where theirassailants might be, and the fall of the man beside me created ahasty rumor that I was killed, so that it was on the whole an alarmingexperience for them. They kept together very tolerably, however, whileour assailants, dividing, rode along on each side through the openpine-barren, firing into our ranks, but mostly over the heads ofthe men. My soldiers in turn fired rapidly, --too rapidly, being yetbeginners, --and it was evident that, dim as it was, both sides hadopportunity to do some execution. 

I could hardly tell whether the fight had lasted ten minutes or an hour, when, as the enemy's fire had evidently ceased or slackened, I gave theorder to cease firing. But it was very difficult at first to make themdesist: the taste of gunpowder was too intoxicating. One of them washeard to mutter, indignantly, "Why de Cunnel order _Cease firing_, whende Secesh blazin' away at de rate ob ten dollar a day?" Every incidentaloccurrence seemed somehow to engrave itself upon my perceptions, withoutinterrupting the main course of thought. Thus I know, that, in one ofthe pauses of the affair, there came wailing through the woods a crackedfemale voice, as if calling back some stray husband who had run out tojoin in the affray, "John, John, are you going to leave me, John? Areyou going to let me and the children be killed, John?" I suppose thepoor thing's fears of gunpowder were very genuine; but it was sucha wailing squeak, and so infinitely ludicrous, and John was probablyensconced so very safely in some hollow tree, that I could see some ofthe men showing all their white teeth in the very midst of the fight. But soon this sound, with all others, had ceased, and left us inpeaceful possession of the field. 

I have made the more of this little affair because it was the firststand-up fight in which my men had been engaged, though they had beenunder fire, in an irregular way, in their small early expeditions. To mepersonally the event was of the greatest value: it had given us all anopportunity to test each other, and our abstract surmises were changedinto positive knowledge. Hereafter it was of small importance whatnonsense might be talked or written about colored troops; so longas mine did not flinch, it made no difference to me. My brave youngofficers, themselves mostly new to danger, viewed the matter much asI did; and yet we were under bonds of life and death to form a correctopinion, which was more than could be said of the Northern editors, andour verdict was proportionately of greater value. 

I was convinced from appearances that we had been victorious, so far, though I could not suppose that this would be the last of it. We knewneither the numbers of the enemy, nor their plans, nor their presentcondition: whether they had surprised us or whether we had surprisedthem was all a mystery. Corporal Sutton was urgent to go on and completethe enterprise. All my impulses said the same thing; but then I hadthe most explicit injunctions from General Saxton to risk as little aspossible in this first enterprise, because of the fatal effect on publicsentiment of even an honorable defeat. We had now an honorable victory, so far as it went; the officers and men around me were in good spirits, but the rest of the column might be nervous; and it seemed so importantto make the first fight an entire success, that I thought it wiser tolet well alone; nor have I ever changed this opinion. For one's self, Montrose's verse may be well applied, "To win or lose it all. " But onehas no right to deal thus lightly with the fortunes of a race, and thatwas the weight which I always felt as resting on our action. If my rawinfantry force had stood unflinchingly a night-surprise from "deboss cavalry, " as they reverentially termed them, I felt that a goodbeginning had been made. All hope of surprising the enemy's camp was nowat an end; I was willing and ready to fight the cavalry over again, butit seemed wiser that we, not they, should select the ground. 

Attending to the wounded, therefore, and making as we best couldstretchers for those who were to be carried, including the remainsof the man killed at the first discharge (Private William Parsons ofCompany G), and others who seemed at the point of death, we marchedthrough the woods to the landing, --expecting at every moment to beinvolved in another fight. This not occurring, I was more than eversatisfied that we had won a victory; for it was obvious that a mountedforce would not allow a detachment of infantry to march two milesthrough open woods by night without renewing the fight, unless theythemselves had suffered a good deal. On arrival at the landing, seeingthat there was to be no immediate affray, I sent most of the men onboard, and called for volunteers to remain on shore with me and hold theplantation-house till morning. They eagerly offered; and I was glad tosee them, when posted as sentinels by Lieutenants Hyde and Jackson, whostayed with me, pace their beats as steadily and challenge as coollyas veterans, though of course there was some powder wasted on imaginaryfoes. Greatly to my surprise, however, we had no other enemies toencounter. We did not yet know that we had killed the first lieutenantof the cavalry, and that our opponents had retreated to the woods indismay, without daring to return to their camp. This at least was theaccount we heard from prisoners afterwards, and was evidently the talecurrent in the neighborhood, though the statements published in Southernnewspapers did not correspond. Admitting the death of Lieutenant Jones, the Tallahassee Floridian of February 14th stated that "Captain Clark, finding the enemy in strong force, fell back with his command to camp, and removed his ordnance and commissary and other stores, with twelvenegroes on their way to the enemy, captured on that day. "

In the morning, my invaluable surgeon, Dr. Rogers, sent me his reportof killed and wounded; and I have been since permitted to make thefollowing extracts from his notes: "One man killed instantly by ballthrough the heart, and seven wounded, one of whom will die. Braver mennever lived. One man with two bullet-holes through the large muscles ofthe shoulders and neck brought off from the scene of action, two milesdistant, two muskets; and not a murmur has escaped his lips. Another, Robert Sutton, with three wounds, --one of which, being on the skull, maycost him his life, --would not report himself till compelled to do so byhis officers. While dressing his wounds, he quietly talked of what theyhad done, and of what they yet could do. To-day I have had the Colonel_order_ him to obey me. He is perfectly quiet and cool, but takes thiswhole affair with the religious bearing of a man who realizes thatfreedom is sweeter than life. Yet another soldier did not report himselfat all, but remained all night on guard, and possibly I should nothave known of his having had a buck-shot in his shoulder, if some dutyrequiring a sound shoulder had not been required of him to-day. " Thislast, it may be added, had persuaded a comrade to dig out the buck-shot, for fear of being ordered on the sick-list. And one of those who werecarried to the vessel--a man wounded through the lungs--asked only if Iwere safe, the contrary having been reported. An officer may be pardonedsome enthusiasm for such men as these. 

The anxious night having passed away without an attack, another problemopened with the morning. For the first time, my officers and men foundthemselves in possession of an enemy's abode; and though there was butlittle temptation to plunder, I knew that I must here begin to drawthe line. I had long since resolved to prohibit absolutely allindiscriminate pilfering and wanton outrage, and to allow nothing tobe taken or destroyed but by proper authority. The men, to my greatsatisfaction, entered into this view at once, and so did (perhaps ashade less readily, in some cases) the officers. The greatest troublewas with the steamboat hands, and I resolved to let them go ashore aslittle as possible. Most articles of furniture were already, however, before our visit, gone from the plantation-house, which was now usedonly as a picket-station. The only valuable article was a pianoforte, for which a regular packing-box lay invitingly ready outside. I had madeup my mind, in accordance with the orders given to naval commanders inthat department, * to burn all picket-stations, and all villages fromwhich I should be covertly attacked, and nothing else; and as this housewas destined to the flames, I should have left the piano in it, but forthe seductions of that box. With such a receptacle all ready, even tothe cover, it would have seemed like flying in the face of Providencenot to put the piano in. I ordered it removed, therefore, and afterwardspresented it to the school for colored children at Fernandina. ThisI mention because it was the only article of property I ever took, or knowingly suffered to be taken, in the enemy's country, save forlegitimate military uses, from first to last; nor would I have takenthis, but for the thought of the school, and, as aforesaid, thetemptation of the box. If any other officer has been more rigid, withequal opportunities, let him cast the first stone. 

* "It is my desire to avoid the destruction of private property, unlessused for picket or guard-stations, or for other military purposes, bythe enemy.... Of course, if fired upon from any place, it is your duty, if possible, to destroy it. " Letter of ADMIRAL DUPONT, commanding SouthAtlantic Squadron, to LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER HUGHES of United StatesGunboat Mohawk, Fernandina Harbor. 

I think the zest with which the men finally set fire to the house atmy order was enhanced by this previous abstemiousness; but there is afearful fascination in the use of fire, which every child knows in theabstract, and which I found to hold true in the practice. On our waydown river we had opportunity to test this again. 

The ruined town of St. Mary's had at that time a bad reputation, among both naval and military men. Lying but a short distance aboveFernandina, on the Georgia side, it was occasionally visited by ourgunboats. I was informed that the only residents of the town werethree old women, who were apparently kept there as spies, --that, onour approach, the aged crones would come out and wave whitehandkerchiefs, --that they would receive us hospitably, profess to beprofoundly loyal, and exhibit a portrait of Washington, --that theywould solemnly assure us that no Rebel pickets had been there formany weeks, --but that in the adjoining yard we should find freshhorse-tracks, and that we should be fired upon by guerillas the momentwe left the wharf. My officers had been much excited by these tales; andI had assured them that, if this programme were literally carried out, we would straightway return and burn the town, or what was left of it, for our share. It was essential to show my officers and men that, whilerigid against irregular outrage, we could still be inexorable againstthe enemy. 

We had previously planned to stop at this town, on our way down river, for some valuable lumber which we had espied on a wharf; and glidingdown the swift current, shelling a few bluffs as we passed, we soonreached it. Punctual as the figures in a panorama appeared the oldladies with their white handkerchiefs. Taking possession of the town, much of which had previously been destroyed by the gunboats, andstationing the color-guard, to their infinite delight, in the cupolaof the most conspicuous house, I deployed skirmishers along the exposedsuburb, and set a detail of men at work on the lumber. After a statelyand decorous interview with the queens of society of St. Mary's, --isit Scott who says that nothing improves the manners like piracy?--Ipeacefully withdrew the men when the work was done. There were faces ofdisappointment among the officers, --for all felt a spirit of mischiefafter the last night's adventure, --when, just as we had fairly swung outinto the stream and were under way, there came, like the sudden burst ofa tropical tornado, a regular little hail-storm of bullets into the openend of the boat, driving every gunner in an instant from his post, andsurprising even those who were looking to be surprised. The shock wasbut for a second; and though the bullets had pattered precisely likethe sound of hail upon the iron cannon, yet nobody was hurt. With veryrespectable promptness, order was restored, our own shells were flyinginto the woods from which the attack proceeded, and we were steaming upto the wharf again, according to promise. 

Who shall describe the theatrical attitudes assumed by the old ladiesas they reappeared at the front-door, --being luckily out of directrange, --and set the handkerchiefs in wilder motion than ever? Theybrandished them, they twirled them after the manner of the domesticmop, they clasped their hands, handkerchiefs included. Meanwhile theirfriends in the wood popped away steadily at us, with small effect; andoccasionally an invisible field-piece thundered feebly from anotherquarter, with equally invisible results. Reaching the wharf, onecompany, under Lieutenant (now Captain) Danil-son, was promptly deployedin search of our assailants, who soon grew silent. Not so the oldladies, when I announced to them my purpose, and added, with extremeregret, that, as the wind was high, I should burn only that half ofthe town which lay to leeward of their house, which did not, afterall, amount to much. Between gratitude for this degree of mercy, andimploring appeals for greater, the treacherous old ladies manoeuvredwith clasped hands and demonstrative handkerchiefs around me, impairingthe effect of their eloquence by constantly addressing me as "Mr. Captain"; for I have observed, that, while the sternest officer isgreatly propitiated by attributing to him a rank a little higher thanhis own, yet no one is ever mollified by an error in the oppositedirection. I tried, however, to disregard such low considerations, and to strike the correct mean between the sublime patriot and theunsanctified incendiary, while I could find no refuge from weakcontrition save in greater and greater depths of courtesy; and somelodramatic became our interview that some of the soldiers stillmaintain that "dem dar ole Secesh women been a-gwine for kiss deCunnel, " before we ended. But of this monstrous accusation I wish toregister an explicit denial, once for all. 

Dropping down to Fernandina unmolested after this affair, we were kindlyreceived by the military and naval commanders, --Colonel Hawley, ofthe Seventh Connecticut (now Brigadier-General Hawley), andLieutenant-Commander Hughes, of the gunboat Mohawk. It turned out veryopportunely that both of these officers had special errands to suggeststill farther up the St. Mary's, and precisely in the region where Iwished to go. Colonel Hawley showed me a letter from the War Department, requesting him to ascertain the possibility of obtaining a supplyof brick for Fort Clinch from the brickyard which had furnished theoriginal materials, but which had not been visited since the perilousriver-trip of the Ottawa. Lieutenant Hughes wished to obtain informationfor the Admiral respecting a Rebel steamer, --the Berosa, --said tobe lying somewhere up the river, and awaiting her chance to run theblockade. I jumped at the opportunity. Berosa and brickyard, --both werenear Wood-stock, the former home of Corporal Sutton; he was readyand eager to pilot us up the river; the moon would be just right thatevening, setting at 3h. 19m. A. M. ; and our boat was precisely the oneto undertake the expedition. Its double-headed shape was just what wasneeded in that swift and crooked stream; the exposed pilot-houses hadbeen tolerably barricaded with the thick planks from St. Simon's; andwe further obtained some sand-bags from Fort Clinch, through the aid ofCaptain Sears, the officer in charge, who had originally suggested theexpedition after brick. In return for this aid, the Planter was sentback to the wharf at St. Mary's, to bring away a considerable supplyof the same precious article, which we had observed near the wharf. Meanwhile the John Adams was coaling from naval supplies, through thekindness of Lieutenant Hughes; and the Ben De Ford was taking inthe lumber which we had yesterday brought down. It was a greatdisappointment to be unable to take the latter vessel up the river; butI was unwillingly convinced that, though the depth of water might besufficient, yet her length would be unmanageable in the swift currentand sharp turns. The Planter must also be sent on a separate cruise, as her weak and disabled machinery made her useless for my purpose. Twohundred men were therefore transferred, as before, to the narrow holdof the John Adams, in addition to the company permanently stationed onboard to work the guns. At seven o'clock on the evening of January 29th, beneath a lovely moon, we steamed up the river. 

Never shall I forget the mystery and excitement of that night. I knownothing in life more fascinating than the nocturnal ascent of an unknownriver, leading far into an enemy's country, where one glides in thedim moonlight between dark hills and meadows, each turn of the channelmaking it seem like an inland lake, and cutting you off as by abarrier from all behind, --with no sign of human life, but an occasionalpicket-fire left glimmering beneath the bank, or the yelp of a dog fromsome low-lying plantation. On such occasions every nerve is strained toits utmost tension; all dreams of romance appear to promise immediatefulfilment; all lights on board the vessel are obscured, loud voicesare hushed; you fancy a thousand men on shore, and yet see nothing; thelonely river, unaccustomed to furrowing keels, lapses by the vessel witha treacherous sound; and all the senses are merged in a sort of anxioustrance. Three tunes I have had in full perfection this fascinatingexperience; but that night was the first, and its zest was the keenest. It will come back to me in dreams, if I live a thousand years. 

I feared no attack during our ascent, --that danger was for our return;but I feared the intricate navigation of the river, though I did notfully know, till the actual experience, how dangerous it was. We passedwithout trouble far above the scene of our first fight, --the Battleof the Hundred Pines, as my officers had baptized it; and ever, as weascended, the banks grew steeper, the current swifter, the channel moretortuous and more encumbered with projecting branches and drifting wood. No piloting less skilful than that of Corporal Sutton and his mate, James Bezzard, could have carried us through, I thought; and noside-wheel steamer less strong than a ferry-boat could have borne thecrash and force with which we struck the wooded banks of the river. Butthe powerful paddles, built to break the Northern ice, could crush theSouthern pine as well; and we came safely out of entanglements that atfirst seemed formidable. We had the tide with us, which makes steeringfar more difficult; and, in the sharp angles of the river, there wasoften no resource but to run the bow boldly on shore, let the sternswing round, and then reverse the motion. As the reversing machinerywas generally out of order, the engineer stupid or frightened, andthe captain excited, this involved moments of tolerably concentratedanxiety. Eight times we grounded in the upper waters, and once layaground for half an hour; but at last we dropped anchor before thelittle town of Woodstock, after moonset and an hour before daybreak, just as I had planned, and so quietly that scarcely a dog barked, andnot a soul in the town, as we afterwards found, knew of our arrival. 

As silently as possible, the great flat-boat which we had brought fromSt. Simon's was filled with men. Major Strong was sent on shore withtwo companies, --those of Captain James and Captain Metcalf, --withinstructions to surround the town quietly, allow no one to leave it, molest no one, and hold as temporary prisoners every man whom he found. I watched them push off into the darkness, got the remaining force readyto land, and then paced the deck for an hour in silent watchfulness, waiting for rifle-shots. Not a sound came from the shore, savethe barking of dogs and the morning crow of cocks; the time seemedinterminable; but when daylight came, I landed, and found a pair ofscarlet trousers pacing on their beat before every house in the village, and a small squad of prisoners, stunted and forlorn as Falstaff's raggedregiment, already hi hand. I observed with delight the good demeanorof my men towards these forlorn Anglo-Saxons, and towards the moretumultuous women. Even one soldier, who threatened to throw an oldtermagant into the river, took care to append the courteous epithet"Madam. "

I took a survey of the premises. The chief house, a pretty one withpicturesque outbuildings, was that of Mrs. A. , who owned the millsand lumber-wharves adjoining. The wealth of these wharves had not beenexaggerated. There was lumber enough to freight half a dozen steamers, and I half regretted that I had agreed to take down a freight ofbricks instead. Further researches made me grateful that I had alreadyexplained to my men the difference between public foraging and privateplunder. Along the river-bank I found building after building crowdedwith costly furniture, all neatly packed, just as it was sent up fromSt. Mary's when that town was abandoned. Pianos were a drug; china, glass-ware, mahogany, pictures, all were here. And here were my men, whoknew that their own labor had earned for their masters these luxuries, or such as these; their own wives and children were still sleeping onthe floor, perhaps, at Beaufort or Fernandina; and yet they submitted, almost without a murmur, to the enforced abstinence. Bed and beddingfor our hospitals they might take from those store-rooms, --such as thesurgeon selected, --also an old flag which we found in a corner, and anold field-piece (which the regiment still possesses), --but after thisthe doors were closed and left unmolested. It cost a struggle to someof the men, whose wives were destitute, I know; but their pride was veryeasily touched, and when this abstinence was once recognized as a rule, they claimed it as an honor, in this and all succeeding expeditions. I flatter myself that, if they had once been set upon wholesaleplundering, they would have done it as thoroughly as their betters; butI have always been infinitely grateful, both for the credit and forthe discipline of the regiment, --as well as for the men's subsequentlives, --that the opposite method was adopted. 

When the morning was a little advanced, I called on Mrs. A. , whoreceived me in quite a stately way at her own door with "To what amI indebted for the honor of this visit, Sir?" The foreign name ofthe family, and the tropical look of the buildings, made it seem (as, indeed, did all the rest of the adventure) like a chapter out of "AmyasLeigh"; but as I had happened to hear that the lady herself was aPhiladelphian, and her deceased husband a New-Yorker, I could not feeleven that modicum of reverence due to sincere Southerners. However, Iwished to present my credentials; so, calling up my companion, I saidthat I believed she had been previously acquainted with Corporal RobertSutton? I never saw a finer bit of unutterable indignation than cameover the face of my hostess, as she slowly recognized him. She drewherself up, and dropped out the monosyllables of her answer as if theywere so many drops of nitric acid. "Ah, " quoth my lady, "we called himBob!"

It was a group for a painter. The whole drama of the war seemed toreverse itself in an instant, and my tall, well-dressed, imposing, philosophic Corporal dropped down the immeasurable depth into a mereplantation "Bob" again. So at least in my imagination; not to thatperson himself. Too essentially dignified in his nature to be moved bywords where substantial realities were in question, he simply turnedfrom the lady, touched his hat to me, and asked if I would wish to seethe slave-jail, as he had the keys in his possession. 

If he fancied that I was in danger of being overcome by blandishments, and needed to be recalled to realities, it was a master-stroke. 

I must say that, when the door of that villanous edifice was thrown openbefore me, I felt glad that my main interview with its lady proprietorhad passed before I saw it. It was a small building, like a Northerncorn-barn, and seemed to have as prominent and as legitimate a placeamong the outbuildings of the establishment. In the middle of the doorwas a large staple with a rusty chain, like an ox-chain, for fasteninga victim down. When the door had been opened after the death of the lateproprietor, my informant said, a man was found padlocked in that chain. We found also three pairs of stocks of various construction, two ofwhich had smaller as well as larger holes, evidently for the feet ofwomen or children. In a building near by we found something far morecomplicated, which was perfectly unintelligible till the men explainedall its parts: a machine so contrived that a person once imprisoned init could neither sit, stand, nor lie, but must support the bodyhalf raised, in a position scarcely endurable. I have since bitterlyreproached myself for leaving this piece of ingenuity behind; but itwould have cost much labor to remove it, and to bring away the othertrophies seemed then enough. I remember the unutterable loathing withwhich I leaned against the door of that prison-house; I had thoughtmyself seasoned to any conceivable horrors of Slavery, but it seemed asif the visible presence of that den of sin would choke me. Of courseit would have been burned to the ground by us, but that this would haveinvolved the sacrifice of every other building and all the piles oflumber, and for the moment it seemed as if the sacrifice would berighteous. But I forbore, and only took as trophies the instruments oftorture and the keys of the jail. 

We found but few colored people in this vicinity; some we brought awaywith us, and an old man and woman preferred to remain. All the whitemales whom we found I took as hostages, in order to shield us, ifpossible, from attack on our way down river, explaining to them thatthey would be put on shore when the dangerous points were passed. Iknew that their wives could easily send notice of this fact to theRebel forces along the river. My hostages were a forlorn-looking set of"crackers, " far inferior to our soldiers in _physique_, and yet quiteequal, the latter declared, to the average material of the Southernarmies. None were in uniform, but this proved nothing as to their beingsoldiers. One of them, a mere boy, was captured at his own door, withgun in hand. It was a fowling-piece, which he used only, as his motherplaintively assured me, "to shoot little birds with. " As the guilelessyouth had for this purpose loaded the gun with eighteen buck-shot, wethought it justifiable to confiscate both the weapon and the owner, inmercy to the birds. 

We took from this place, for the use of the army, a flock of some thirtysheep, forty bushels of rice, some other provisions, tools, oars, anda little lumber, leaving all possible space for the bricks which weexpected to obtain just below. I should have gone farther up the river, but for a dangerous boom which kept back a great number of logs in alarge brook that here fell into the St. Mary's; the stream ran withforce, and if the Rebels had wit enough to do it, they might in tenminutes so choke the river with drift-wood as infinitely to enhanceour troubles. So we dropped down stream a mile or two, found the verybrickyard from which Fort Clinch had been constructed, --still storedwith bricks, and seemingly unprotected. Here Sergeant Rivers againplanted his standard, and the men toiled eagerly, for several hours, inloading our boat to the utmost with the bricks. Meanwhile we questionedblack and white witnesses, and learned for the first tune that theRebels admitted a repulse at Township Landing, and that Lieutenant Jonesand ten of their number were killed, --though this I fancy to have beenan exaggeration. They also declared that the mysterious steamer Berosawas lying at the head of the river, but was a broken-down and worthlessaffair, and would never get to sea. The result has since proved this;for the vessel subsequently ran the blockade and foundered near shore, the crew barely escaping with their lives. I had the pleasure, as ithappened, of being the first person to forward this informationto Admiral Dupont, when it came through the pickets, many monthsafter, --thus concluding my report on the Berosa. 

Before the work at the yard was over the pickets reported mounted men inthe woods near by, as had previously been the report at Woodstock. This admonished us to lose no time; and as we left the wharf, immediatearrangements were made to have the gun crews all in readiness, and tokeep the rest of the men below, since their musketry would be of littleuse now, and I did not propose to risk a life unnecessarily. The chiefobstacle to this was their own eagerness; penned down on one side, theypopped up on the other; their officers, too, were eager to see what wasgoing on, and were almost as hard to cork down as the men. Add to this, that the vessel was now very crowded, and that I had to be chieflyon the hurricane-deck with the pilots. Captain Clifton, master of thevessel, was brave to excess, and as much excited as the men; he could nomore be kept in the little pilot-house than they below; and when we hadpassed one or two bluffs, with no sign of an enemy, he grew more andmore irrepressible, and exposed himself conspicuously on the upper deck. Perhaps we all were a little lulled by apparent safety; for myself, Ilay down for a moment on a settee in a state-room, having been on myfeet, almost without cessation, for twenty-four hours. 

Suddenly there swept down from a bluff above us, on the Georgia side, amingling of shout and roar and rattle as of a tornado let loose; andas a storm of bullets came pelting against the sides of the vessel, andthrough a window, there went up a shrill answering shout from our ownmen. It took but an instant for me to reach the gun-deck. After all myefforts the men had swarmed once more from below, and already, crowdingat both ends of the boat, were loading and firing with inconceivablerapidity, shouting to each other, "Nebber gib it up!" and of coursehaving no steady aim, as the vessel glided and whirled in the swiftcurrent. Meanwhile the officers in charge of the large guns had theircrews in order, and our shells began to fly over the bluffs, which, aswe now saw, should have been shelled in advance, only that we had toeconomize ammunition. The other soldiers I drove below, almost by mainforce, with the aid of their officers, who behaved exceedingly well, giving the men leave to fire from the open port-holes which linedthe lower deck, almost at the water's level. In the very midst of the_melee_ Major Strong came from the upper deck, with a face of horror, and whispered to me, "Captain Clifton was killed at the first shot by myside. "

If he had said that the vessel was on fire the shock would hardly havebeen greater. Of course, the military commander on board a steamer isalmost as helpless as an unarmed man, so far as the risks of water go. Aseaman must command there. In the hazardous voyage of last night, Ihad learned, though unjustly, to distrust every official on board thesteamboat except this excitable, brave, warm-hearted sailor; and now, among these added dangers, to lose him! The responsibility for his lifealso thrilled me; he was not among my soldiers, and yet he was killed. Ithought of his wife and children, of whom he had spoken; but one learnsto think rapidly in war, and, cautioning the Major to silence, I went upto the hurricane-deck and drew in the helpless body, that it should besafe from further desecration, and then looked to see where we were. 

We were now gliding past a safe reach of marsh, while our assailantswere riding by cross-paths to attack us at the next bluff. It was Reed'sBluff where we were first attacked, and Scrubby Bluff, I think, wasnext. They were shelled in advance, but swarmed manfully to the banksagain as we swept round one of the sharp angles of the stream beneaththeir fire. My men were now pretty well imprisoned below in the hot andcrowded hold, and actually fought each other, the officers afterwardssaid, for places at the open port-holes, from which to aim. Othersimplored to be landed, exclaiming that they "supposed de Cunnel knewbest, " but it was "mighty mean" to be shut up down below, when theymight be "fightin' de Secesh _in de clar field_. " This clear field, andno favor, was what they thenceforward sighed for. But in such difficultnavigation it would have been madness to think of landing, although onedaring Rebel actually sprang upon the large boat which we towed astern, where he was shot down by one of our sergeants. This boat was soon afterswamped and abandoned, then taken and repaired by the Rebels at a laterdate, and finally, by a piece of dramatic completeness, was seized bya party of fugitive slaves, who escaped in it to our lines, and some ofwhom enlisted in my own regiment. 

It has always been rather a mystery to me why the Rebels did not fella few trees across the stream at some of the many sharp angles where wemight so easily have been thus imprisoned. This, however, they didnot attempt, and with the skilful pilotage of our trustyCorporal, --philosophic as Socrates through all the din, and occasionallyrelieving his mind by taking a shot with his rifle through the highportholes of the pilot-house, --we glided safely on. The steamer did notground once on the descent, and the mate in command, Mr. Smith, did hisduty very well. The plank sheathing of the pilot-house was penetrated byfew bullets, though struck by so many outside that it was visited as acuriosity after our return; and even among the gun-crews, though theyhad no protection, not a man was hurt. As we approached some woodedbluff, usually on the Georgia side, we could see galloping along thehillside what seemed a regiment of mounted riflemen, and could see ourshell scatter them ere we approached. Shelling did not, however, preventa rather fierce fusilade from our old friends of Captain dark's companyat Waterman's Bluff, near Township Landing; but even this did no seriousdamage, and this was the last. 

It was of course impossible, while thus running the gauntlet, to put ourhostages ashore, and I could only explain to them that they must thanktheir own friends for their inevitable detention. I was by no meansproud of their forlorn appearance, and besought Colonel Hawley to takethem off my hands; but he was sending no flags of truce at that time, and liked their looks no better than I did. So I took them to PortRoyal, where they were afterwards sent safely across the lines. Ourmen were pleased at taking them back with us, as they had already said, regretfully, "S'pose we leave dem Secesh at Fernandina, General Saxbywon't see 'em, "--as if they were some new natural curiosity, whichindeed they were. One soldier further suggested the expediency ofkeeping them permanently in camp, to be used as marks for the guns ofthe relieved guard every morning. But this was rather an ebullition offancy than a sober proposition. 

Against these levities I must put a piece of more tragic eloquence, which I took down by night on the steamer's deck from the thrillingharangue of Corporal Adam Allston, one of our most gifted prophets, whose influence over the men was unbounded. "When I heard, " he said, "de bombshell a-screamin' troo de woods like de Judgment Day, I said tomyself, 'If my head was took off to-night, dey couldn't put my soulin de torments, perceps [except] God was my enemy!' And when derifle-bullets came whizzin' across de deck, I cried aloud, 'God help mycongregation! Boys, load and fire!'"

I must pass briefly over the few remaining days of our cruise. AtFernandina we met the Planter, which had been successful on her separateexpedition, and had destroyed extensive salt-works at Crooked River, under charge of the energetic Captain Trowbridge, efficiently aided byCaptain Rogers. Our commodities being in part delivered at Fernandina, our decks being full, coal nearly out, and time up, we called once moreat St. Simon's Sound, bringing away the remainder of our railroad-iron, with some which the naval officers had previously disinterred, and thensteamed back to Beaufort. Arriving there at sunrise (February 2, 1863), I made my way with Dr. Rogers to General Saxton's bedroom, and laidbefore him the keys and shackles of the slave-prison, with my reportof the good conduct of the men, --as Dr. Rogers remarked, a message fromheaven and another from hell. 

Slight as this expedition now seems among the vast events of the war, the future student of the newspapers of that day will find that itoccupied no little space in their columns, so intense was the interestwhich then attached to the novel experiment of employing black troops. So obvious, too, was the value, during this raid, of their localknowledge and their enthusiasm, that it was impossible not to find inits successes new suggestions for the war. Certainly I would not haveconsented to repeat the enterprise with the bravest white troops, leaving Corporal Sutton and his mates behind, for I should have expectedto fail. For a year after our raid the Upper St. Mary's remainedunvisited, till in 1864 the large force with which we held Floridasecured peace upon its banks; then Mrs. A. Took the oath of allegiance, the Government bought her remaining lumber, and the John Adams againascended with a detachment of my men under Lieutenant Parker, andbrought a portion of it to Fernandina. By a strange turn of fortune, Corporal Sutton (now Sergeant) was at this time in jail at Hilton Head, under sentence of court-martial for an alleged act of mutiny, --an affairin which the general voice of our officers sustained him and condemnedhis accusers, so that he soon received a full pardon, and was restoredin honor to his place in the regiment, which he has ever since held. 

Nothing can ever exaggerate the fascinations of war, whether on thelargest or smallest scale. When we settled down into camp-life again, itseemed like a butterfly's folding its wings to re-enter the chrysalis. None of us could listen to the crack of a gun without recallinginstantly the sharp shots that spilled down from the bluffs of theSt. Mary's, or hear a sudden trampling of horsemen by night withoutrecalling the sounds which startled us on the Field of the HundredPines. The memory of our raid was preserved in the camp by many legendsof adventure, growing vaster and more incredible as time wore on, --andby the morning appeals to the surgeon of some veteran invalids, whocould now cut off all reproofs and suspicions with "Doctor, I's beena sickly pusson eber since de _expeditious_. " But to me the most vividremembrancer was the flock of sheep which we had "lifted. " The PostQuartermaster discreetly gave us the charge of them, and they rilled agap in the landscape and in the larder, --which last had before presentedone unvaried round of impenetrable beef. Mr. Obabiah Oldbuck, when hedecided to adopt a pastoral life, and assumed the provisional name ofThyrsis, never looked upon his flocks and herds with more unalloyedcontentment than I upon that fleecy family. I had been familiar, inKansas, with the metaphor by which the sentiments of an owner werecredited to his property, and had heard of a proslavery colt and anantislavery cow. The fact that these sheep were but recently convertedfrom "Se-cesh" sentiments was their crowning charm. Methought theyfrisked and fattened in the joy of their deliverance from the shadowof Mrs. A. 's slave-jail, and gladly contemplated translation intomutton-broth for sick or wounded soldiers. The very slaves who once, perchance, were sold at auction with yon aged patriarch of the flock, had now asserted their humanity, and would devour him as hospitalrations. Meanwhile our shepherd bore a sharp bayonet without a crook, and I felt myself a peer of Ulysses and Rob Roy, --those sheep-stealersof less elevated aims, --when I met in my daily rides these wanderingtrophies of our wider wanderings. 

Chapter 4. Up the St. John's

There was not much stirring in the Department of the South early in1863, and the St. Mary's expedition had afforded a new sensation. Ofcourse the few officers of colored troops, and a larger number whowished to become such, were urgent for further experiments in the sameline; and the Florida tax-commissioners were urgent likewise. I wellremember the morning when, after some preliminary correspondence, Isteamed down from Beaufort, S. C. , to Hilton Head, with General Saxton, Judge S. , and one or two others, to have an interview on the matter withMajor-General Hunter, then commanding the Department. 

Hilton Head, in those days, seemed always like some foreign militarystation in the tropics. The long, low, white buildings, with piazzasand verandas on the water-side; the general impression of heat andlassitude, existence appearing to pulsate only with the sea-breeze; thesandy, almost impassable streets; and the firm, level beach, on whicheverybody walked who could get there: all these suggested Jamaica or theEast Indies. Then the head-quarters at the end of the beach, the Zouavesentinels, the successive anterooms, the lounging aids, the good-naturedand easy General, --easy by habit and energetic by impulse, --all had acertain air of Southern languor, rather picturesque, but perhaps notaltogether bracing. General Hunter received us, that day, with his usualkindliness; there was a good deal of pleasant chat; Miles O'Reilly wascalled in to read his latest verses; and then we came to the matter inhand. 

Jacksonville, on the St. John's River, in Florida, had beenalready twice taken and twice evacuated; having been occupied byBrigadier-General Wright, in March, 1862, and by Brigadier-GeneralBrannan, in October of the same year. The second evacuation was byMajor-General Hunter's own order, on the avowed ground that a garrisonof five thousand was needed to hold the place, and that this force couldnot be spared. The present proposition was to take and hold it witha brigade of less than a thousand men, carrying, however, arms anduniforms for twice that number, and a month's rations. The claim was, that there were fewer rebel troops in the Department than formerly, and that the St. Mary's expedition had shown the advantage possessed bycolored troops, in local knowledge, and in the confidence of the loyalblacks. It was also urged, that it was worth while to risk something, inthe effort to hold Florida, and perhaps bring it back into the Union. 

My chief aim in the negotiation was to get the men into action, andthat of the Florida Commissioners to get them into Florida. Thus farcoinciding, we could heartily co-operate; and though General Hunter madesome reasonable objections, they were yielded more readily than I hadfeared; and finally, before half our logical ammunition was exhausted, the desired permission was given, and the thing might be considered asdone. 

We were now to leave, as we supposed forever, the camp which had thusfar been our home. Our vast amount of surplus baggage made a heavy jobin the loading, inasmuch as we had no wharf, and everything had to beput on board by means of flat-boats. It was completed by twenty-fourhours of steady work; and after some of the usual uncomfortable delayswhich wait on military expeditions, we were at last afloat. 

I had tried to keep the plan as secret as possible, and had requestedto have no definite orders, until we should be on board ship. But thislarger expedition was less within my own hands than was the St. Mary'saffair, and the great reliance for concealment was on certain counterreports, ingeniously set afloat by some of the Florida men. Thesereports rapidly swelled into the most enormous tales, and by the timethey reached the New York newspapers, the expedition was "a greatvolcano about bursting, whose lava will burn, flow, and destroy, " "thesudden appearance in arms of no less than five thousand negroes, ""a liberating host, " "not the phantom, but the reality, of servileinsurrection. " What the undertaking actually was may be best seen in theinstructions which guided it. *

* HEAD-QUARTERS, BEAUFORT, S. C. , March 5, 1863. 

COLONEL, --You will please proceed with your command, the First andSecond Regiments South Carolina Volunteers, which are now embarked uponthe steamers John Adams, Boston, and Burn-side, to Fernandina, Florida. 

Relying upon your military skill and judgment. I shall give you nospecial directions as to your procedure after you leave Fernandina. I expect, however, that you will occupy Jacksonville, Florida, andintrench yourselves there. 

The main objects of your expedition are to carry the proclamation offreedom to the enslaved; to call all loyal men into the service of theUnited States; to occupy as much of the State of Florida as possiblewith the forces under your command; and to neglect no means consistentwith the usages of civilized warfare to weaken, harass, and annoy thosewho are in rebellion against the Government of the United States. 

Trusting that the blessing of our Heavenly Father will rest upon yournoble enterprise, I am yours, sincerely, R. SAXTON, Brig. -Gen. , Mil. Gov. Dept. Of the South. Colonel Higginson, Comdg. Expeditionary Corps. 

In due time, after touching at Fernandina, we reached the difficultbar of the St. John's, and were piloted safely over. Admiral Dupont hadfurnished a courteous letter of introduction. * and we were cordiallyreceived by Commander Duncan of the Norwich, and Lieutenant Watson, commanding the Uncas. Like all officers on blockade duty, they wereimpatient of their enforced inaction, and gladly seized the opportunityfor a different service. It was some time since they had ascended ashigh as Jacksonville, for their orders were strict, one vessel's coalwas low, the other was in infirm condition, and there were rumors ofcotton-clads and torpedoes. But they gladly agreed to escort us upthe river, so soon as our own armed gunboat, the John Adams, shouldarrive, --she being unaccountably delayed. 

FLAG SHIP WABASH, PORT ROYAL HARBOR, S. C. , March 6, 1863. SIR, --I am informed byMajor-General Hunter that he is sending Colonel Higginson on animportant mission in the southerly part of his Department. 

I have not been made acquainted with the objects of this mission, butany assistance that you can offer Colonel Higginson, which will notinterfere with your other duties, you are authorized to give. 

Respectfully your obedient servant, S. F. DUPONT, Rear-Adm. Comdg. S. Atl. Block. Squad. 

To the Senior Officer at the different Blockading Stations on the Coastof Georgia and Florida. 

We waited twenty-four hours for her, at the sultry mouth of that glassyriver, watching the great pelicans which floated lazily on its tide, orsometimes shooting one, to admire the great pouch, into which one ofthe soldiers could insert his foot, as into a boot. "He hold one quart, "said the admiring experimentalist. "Hi! boy, " retorted another quickly, "neber you bring dat quart measure in _my_ peck o' corn. " The protestcame very promptly, and was certainly fair; for the strange receptaclewould have held nearly a gallon. 

We went on shore, too, and were shown a rather pathetic little garden, which the naval officers had laid out, indulging a dream of vegetables. They lingered over the little microscopic sprouts, pointing them outtenderly, as if they were cradled babies. I have often noticed thistouching weakness, in gentlemen of that profession, on lonely stations. 

We wandered among the bluffs, too, in the little deserted hamlet called"Pilot Town. " The ever-shifting sand had in some cases almost buriedthe small houses, and had swept around others a circular drift, at a fewyards' distance, overtopping then: eaves, and leaving each the untouchedcitadel of this natural redoubt. There was also a dismantled lighthouse, an object which always seems the most dreary symbol of the barbarismof war, when one considers the national beneficence which reared andkindled it. Despite the service rendered by this once brilliant light, there were many wrecks which had been strown upon the beach, victims ofthe most formidable of the Southern river-bars. As I stood with my footon the half-buried ribs of one of these vessels, --so distinctly tracedthat one might almost fancy them human, --the old pilot, my companion, told me the story of the wreck. The vessel had formerly been in theCuba trade; and her owner, an American merchant residing in Havana, had christened her for his young daughter. I asked the name, and wasstartled to recognize that of a favorite young cousin of mine, besidesthe bones of whose representative I was thus strangely standing, uponthis lonely shore. 

It was well to have something to relieve the anxiety naturally felt atthe delay of the John Adams, --anxiety both for her safety and for thesuccess of our enterprise, The Rebels had repeatedly threatened toburn the whole of Jacksonville, in case of another attack, as they hadpreviously burned its mills and its great hotel. It seemed as if thenews of our arrival must surely have travelled thirty miles by thistime. All day we watched every smoke that rose among the wooded hills, and consulted the compass and the map, to see if that sign announced thedoom of our expected home. At the very last moment of the tide, justin time to cross the bar that day, the missing vessel arrived; allanxieties vanished; I transferred my quarters on board, and at two thenext morning we steamed up the river. 

Again there was the dreamy delight of ascending an unknown stream, beneath a sinking moon, into a region where peril made fascination. Since the time of the first explorers, I suppose that those Southernwaters have known no sensations so dreamy and so bewitching as thosewhich this war has brought forth. I recall, in this case, the faintestsensations of our voyage, as Ponce de Leon may have recalled thoseof his wandering search, in the same soft zone, for the secret of themystic fountain. I remember how, during that night, I looked for thefirst time through a powerful night-glass. It had always seemed a thingwholly inconceivable, that a mere lens could change darkness into light;and as I turned the instrument on the preceding gunboat, and actuallydiscerned the man at the wheel and the others standing about him, --allrelapsing into vague gloom again at the withdrawal of the glass, --itgave a feeling of childish delight. Yet it seemed only in keepingwith the whole enchantment of the scene; and had I been some Aladdin, convoyed by genii or giants, I could hardly have felt more wholly adenizen of some world of romance. 

But the river was of difficult navigation; and we began to feelsometimes, beneath the keel, that ominous, sliding, grating, treacherousarrest of motion which makes the heart shudder, as the vessel does. There was some solicitude about torpedoes, also, --a peril which becamea formidable thing, one year later, in the very channel where we foundnone. Soon one of our consorts grounded, then another, every vesseltaking its turn, I believe, and then in turn getting off, until theNorwich lay hopelessly stranded, for that tide at least, a few milesbelow Jacksonville, and out of sight of the city, so that she could noteven add to our dignity by her visible presence from afar. 

This was rather a serious matter, as the Norwich was our main navalreliance, the Uncas being a small steamer of less than two hundred tons, and in such poor condition that Commander Duncan, on finding himselfaground, at first quite declined to trust his consort any farther alone. But, having got thus far, it was plainly my duty to risk the remainderwith or without naval assistance; and this being so, the courageousofficer did not long object, but allowed his dashing subordinate tosteam up with us to the city. This left us one naval and one armygunboat; and, fortunately, the Burn-side, being a black propeller, always passed for an armed vessel among the Rebels, and we ratherencouraged that pleasing illusion. 

We had aimed to reach Jacksonville at daybreak; but these mishapsdelayed us, and we had several hours of fresh, early sunshine, lightingup the green shores of that lovely river, wooded to the water's edge, with sometimes an emerald meadow, opening a vista to some picturesquehouse, --all utterly unlike anything we had yet seen in the South, andsuggesting rather the Penobscot or Kennebec. Here and there we glidedby the ruins of some saw-mill burned by the Rebels on General Wright'sapproach; but nothing else spoke of war, except, perhaps, the silence. It was a delicious day, and a scene of fascination. Our Florida men werewild with delight; and when we rounded the point below the city, and sawfrom afar its long streets, its brick warehouses, its white cottages, and its overshadowing trees, --all peaceful and undisturbed byflames, --it seemed, in the men's favorite phrase, "too much good, " andall discipline was merged, for the moment, in a buzz of ecstasy. 

The city was still there for us, at any rate; though none knew whatperils might be concealed behind those quiet buildings. Yet there werechildren playing on the wharves; careless men, here and there, loungeddown to look at us, hands in pockets; a few women came to their doors, and gazed listlessly upon us, shading their eyes with their hands. Wedrew momently nearer, in silence and with breathless attention. Thegunners were at their posts, and the men in line. It was eight o'clock. We were now directly opposite the town: yet no sign of danger was seen;not a rifle-shot was heard; not a shell rose hissing in the air. The Uncas rounded to, and dropped anchor in the stream; by previousagreement, I steamed to an upper pier of the town, Colonel Montgomeryto a lower one; the little boat-howitzers were run out upon the wharves, and presently to the angles of the chief streets; and the pretty townwas our own without a shot. In spite of our detention, the surprise hadbeen complete, and not a soul in Jacksonville had dreamed of our coming. 

The day passed quickly, in eager preparations for defence; the peoplecould or would give us no definite information about the Rebel camp, which was, however, known to be near, and our force did not permit ourgoing out to surprise it. The night following was the most anxious Iever spent. We were all tired out; the companies were under arms, invarious parts of the town, to be ready for an attack at any moment. Mytemporary quarters were beneath the loveliest grove of linden-trees, and as I reclined, half-dozing, the mocking-birds sang all night likenightingales, --their notes seeming to trickle down through the sweet airfrom amid the blossoming boughs. Day brought relief and the sense of duepossession, and we could see what we had won. 

Jacksonville was now a United States post again: the only post on themain-land in the Department of the South. Before the war it had three orfour thousand inhabitants, and a rapidly growing lumber-trade, for whichabundant facilities were evidently provided. The wharves were capacious, and the blocks of brick warehouses along the lower street were utterlyunlike anything we had yet seen in that region, as were the neatness andthrift everywhere visible. It had been built up by Northern enterprise, and much of the property was owned by loyal men. It had been a greatresort for invalids, though the Rebels had burned the large hotelwhich once accommodated them. Mills had also been burned; but thedwelling-houses were almost all in good condition. The quarters for themen were admirable; and I took official possession of the handsome brickhouse of Colonel Sunder-land, the established head-quarters throughevery occupation, whose accommodating flag-staff had literally andrepeatedly changed its colors. The seceded Colonel, reputed author ofthe State ordinance of Secession, was a New-Yorker by birth, and wefound his law-card, issued when in practice in Easton, WashingtonCounty, New York. He certainly had good taste in planning the inside ofa house, though time had impaired its condition. There was a neat officewith ample bookcases and no books, a billiard-table with no balls, gas-fixtures without gas, and a bathing-room without water. There wasa separate building for servants' quarters, and a kitchen with everyconvenience, even to a few jars of lingering pickles. On the whole, there was an air of substance and comfort about the town, quite alienfrom the picturesque decadence of Beaufort. 

The town rose gradually from the river, and was bounded on the rear by along, sluggish creek, beyond which lay a stretch of woods, affording anexcellent covert for the enemy, but without great facilities for attack, as there were but two or three fords and bridges. This brook couldeasily be held against a small force, but could at any time and atalmost any point be readily crossed by a large one. North of the townthe land rose a little, between the river and the sources of the brook, and then sank to a plain, which had been partially cleared by a previousgarrison. For so small a force as ours, however, this clearing must beextended nearer to the town; otherwise our lines would be too long forour numbers. 

This deficiency in numbers at once became a source of serious anxiety. While planning the expedition, it had seemed so important to get the mena foothold in Florida that I was willing to risk everything for it. But this important post once in our possession, it began to showsome analogies to the proverbial elephant in the lottery. To hold itpermanently with nine hundred men was not, perhaps, impossible, with theaid of a gunboat (I had left many of my own regiment sick and on dutyin Beaufort, and Colonel Montgomery had as yet less than one hundred andfifty); but to hold it, and also to make forays up the river, certainlyrequired a larger number. We came in part to recruit, but had foundscarcely an able-bodied negro in the city; all had been removed fartherup, and we must certainly contrive to follow them. I was very unwillingto have, as yet, any white troops under my command, with the blacks. Finally, however, being informed by Judge S. Of a conversation withColonel Hawley, commanding at Fernandina, in which the latter hadoffered to send four companies and a light battery to swell ourforce, --in view of the aid given to his position by this more advancedpost, I decided to authorize the energetic Judge to go back toFernandina and renew the negotiation, as the John Adams must go thitherat any rate for coal. 

Meanwhile all definite display of our force was avoided; dress-paradeswere omitted; the companies were so distributed as to tell for theutmost; and judicious use was made, here and there, of empty tents. Thegunboats and transports moved impressively up and down the river, from time to time. The disposition of pickets was varied each night toperplex the enemy, and some advantage taken of his distrust, which mightbe assumed as equalling our own. The citizens were duly impressed by oursupply of ammunition, which was really enormous, and all these thingssoon took effect. A loyal woman, who came into town, said that the Rebelscouts, stopping at her house, reported that there were "sixteen hundrednegroes all over the woods, and the town full of them besides. " "It wasof no use to go in. General Finnegan had driven them into a bad placeonce, and should not do it again. " "They had lost their captain andtheir best surgeon in the first skirmish, and if the Savannah peoplewanted the negroes driven away, they might come and do it themselves. "Unfortunately, we knew that they could easily come from Savannah at anytime, as there was railroad communication nearly all the way; andevery time we heard the steam-whistle, the men were convinced of theirarrival. Thus we never could approach to any certainty as to theirnumbers, while they could observe, from the bluffs, every steamboat thatascended the river. 

To render our weak force still more available, we barricaded theapproaches to the chief streets by constructing barriers or fellingtrees. It went to my heart to sacrifice, for this purpose, several of mybeautiful lindens; but it was no time for aesthetics. As the giants layon the ground, still scenting the air with their abundant bloom, I usedto rein up my horse and watch the children playing hide-and-seek amongsttheir branches, or some quiet cow grazing at the foliage. Nothingimpresses the mind in war like some occasional object or associationthat belongs apparently to peace alone. 

Among all these solicitudes, it was a great thing that one particularanxiety vanished in a day. On the former expedition the men were upontrial as to their courage; now they were to endure another test, as totheir demeanor as victors. Here were five hundred citizens, nearly allwhite, at the mercy of their former slaves. To some of these whites itwas the last crowning humiliation, and they were, or professed to be, in perpetual fear. On the other hand, the most intelligent and lady-likewoman I saw, the wife of a Rebel captain, rather surprised me by sayingthat it seemed pleasanter to have these men stationed there, whom theyhad known all their lives, and who had generally borne a good character, than to be in the power of entire strangers. Certainly the men deservedthe confidence, for there was scarcely an exception to their goodbehavior. I think they thoroughly felt that their honor and dignity wereconcerned in the matter, and took too much pride in their characteras soldiers, --to say nothing of higher motives, --to tarnish it by anymisdeeds. They watched their officers vigilantly and even suspiciously, to detect any disposition towards compromise; and so long as we pursueda just course it was evident that they could be relied on. Yet thespot was pointed out to me where two of our leading men had seen theirbrothers hanged by Lynch law; many of them had private wrongs to avenge;and they all had utter disbelief in all pretended loyalty, especially onthe part of the women. 

One citizen alone was brought to me in a sort of escort of honor byCorporal Prince Lambkin, --one of the color-guard, and one of our ablestmen, --the same who had once made a speech in camp, reminding his hearersthat they had lived under the American flag for eighteen hundred andsixty-two years, and ought to live and die under it. Corporal Lambkinnow introduced his man, a German, with the highest compliment in hispower, "He hab true colored-man heart. " Surrounded by mean, cajoling, insinuating white men and women who were all that and worse, I was quiteready to appreciate the quality he thus proclaimed. A colored-man heart, in the Rebel States, is a fair synonyme for a loyal heart, and it isabout the only such synonyme. In this case, I found afterwards that theman in question, a small grocer, had been an object of suspicion to thewhites from his readiness to lend money to the negroes, or sell tothem on credit; in which, perhaps, there may have been some mixture ofself-interest with benevolence. 

I resort to a note-book of that period, well thumbed and pocket-worn, which sometimes received a fragment of the day's experience. 

"March 16, 1863. 

"Of course, droll things are constantly occurring. Every whiteman, woman, and child is flattering, seductive, and professes Unionsentiment; every black ditto believes that every white ditto is ascoundrel, and ought to be shot, but for good order and militarydiscipline. The Provost Marshal and I steer between them as blandly aswe can. Such scenes as succeed each other! Rush of indignant Africans. A white man, in woman's clothes, has been seen to enter a certainhouse, --undoubtedly a spy. Further evidence discloses the RomanCatholic priest, a peaceful little Frenchman, in his professionalapparel. --Anxious female enters. Some sentinel has shot her cow bymistake for a Rebel. The United States cannot think of paying thedesired thirty dollars. Let her go to the Post-Quartermaster and selecta cow from his herd. If there is none to suit her (and, indeed, not oneof them gave a drop of milk, --neither did hers), let her wait tillthe next lot comes in, --that is all. --Yesterday's operations gave thefollowing total yield: Thirty 'contrabands, ' eighteen horses, elevencattle, ten saddles and bridles, and one new army-wagon. At this rate weshall soon be self-supporting _cavalry_. 

"Where complaints are made of the soldiers, it almost always turns outthat the women have insulted them most grossly, swearing at them, andthe like. One unpleasant old Dutch woman came in, bursting with wrath, and told the whole narrative of her blameless life, diversified withsobs:--

"'Last January I ran off two of my black people from St. Mary's toFernandina, ' (sob, )--'then I moved down there myself, and at Lake City Ilost six women and a boy, ' (sob, )--'then I stopped at Baldwin for oneof the wenches to be confined, ' (sob, )--'then I brought them all hereto live in a Christian country' (sob, sob). "Then the blockheads'[blockades, that is, gunboats] 'came, and they all ran off with theblockheads, ' (sob, sob, sob, ) 'and left me, an old lady of forty-six, obliged to work for a living. ' (Chaos of sobs, without cessation. )

"But when I found what the old sinner had said to the soldiers I ratherwondered at their self-control in not throttling her. "

Meanwhile skirmishing went on daily in the outskirts of the town. There was a fight on the very first day, when our men killed, as beforehinted, a Rebel surgeon, which was oddly metamorphosed in the Southernnewspapers into their killing one of ours, which certainly neverhappened. Every day, after this, they appeared in small mounted squadsin the neighborhood, and exchanged shots with our pickets, to which thegunboats would contribute their louder share, their aim being ratherembarrassed by the woods and hills. We made reconnoissances, too, tolearn the country in different directions, and were apt to be fired uponduring these. Along the farther side of what we called the "DebatableLand" there was a line of cottages, hardly superior to negro huts, and almost all empty, where the Rebel pickets resorted, and from whosewindows they fired. By degrees all these nests were broken up anddestroyed, though it cost some trouble to do it, and the hottestskirmishing usually took place around them. 

Among these little affairs was one which we called "Company K'sSkirmish, " because it brought out the fact that this company, which wascomposed entirely of South Carolina men, and had never shone in drillor discipline, stood near the head of the regiment for coolness andcourage, --the defect of discipline showing itself only in their extremeunwillingness to halt when once let loose. It was at this time that thesmall comedy of the Goose occurred, --an anecdote which Wendell Phillipshas since made his own. 

One of the advancing line of skirmishers, usually an active fellowenough, was observed to move clumsily and irregularly. It soon appearedthat he had encountered a fine specimen of the domestic goose, which hadsurrendered at discretion. Not wishing to lose it, he could yet find noway to hold it but between his legs; and so he went on, loading, firing, advancing, halting, always with the goose writhing and struggling andhissing in this natural pair of stocks. Both happily came off unwounded, and retired in good order at the signal, or some time after it; but Ihave hardly a cooler thing to put on record. 

Meanwhile, another fellow left the field less exultingly; for, after athoroughly courageous share in the skirmish, he came blubbering to hiscaptain, and said, --"Cappen, make Caesar gib me my cane. " It seemedthat, during some interval of the fighting, he had helped himself to anarmful of Rebel sugar-cane, such as they all delighted in chewing. TheRoman hero, during another pause, had confiscated the treasure; whencethese tears of the returning warrior. I never could accustom myself tothese extraordinary interminglings of manly and childish attributes. 

Our most untiring scout during this period was the chaplain of myregiment, --the most restless and daring spirit we had, and now exultingin full liberty of action. He it was who was daily permitted tostray singly where no other officer would have been allowed to go, soirresistible was his appeal, "You know I am only a chaplain. " Methinks Isee our regimental saint, with pistols in belt and a Ballard rifle slungon shoulder, putting spurs to his steed, and cantering away down somequestionable wood-path, or returning with some tale of Rebel hauntdiscovered, or store of foraging. He would track an enemy like anIndian, or exhort him, when apprehended, like an early Christian. Someof our devout soldiers shook their heads sometimes over the chaplain'slittle eccentricities. "Woffor Mr. Chapman made a preacher for?" saidone of them, as usual transforming his title into a patronymic. "He's_de fightingest more Yankee_ I eber see in all my days. "

And the criticism was very natural, though they could not deny that, when the hour for Sunday service came, Mr. F. Commanded the respect andattention of all. That hour never came, however, on our first Sundayin Jacksonville; we were too busy and the men too scattered; so thechaplain made his accustomed foray beyond the lines instead. 

"Is it not Sunday?" slyly asked an unregenerate lieutenant. "Nay, " quothhis Reverence, waxing fervid; "it is the Day of Judgment"

This reminds me of a raid up the river, conducted by one of our seniorcaptains, an enthusiast whose gray beard and prophetic manner alwaystook me back to the Fifth-Monarchy men. He was most successful that day, bringing back horses, cattle, provisions, and prisoners; and one of thelatter complained bitterly to me of being held, stating that Captain R. Had promised him speedy liberty. But that doughty official spurnedthe imputation of such weak blandishments, in this day of triumphantretribution. 

"Promise him!" said he, "I promised him nothing but the Day of Judgmentand Periods of Damnation!"

Often since have I rolled beneath my tongue this savory and solemnsentence, and I do not believe that since the days of the LongParliament there has been a more resounding anathema. 

In Colonel Montgomery's hands these up-river raids reached the dignityof a fine art. His conceptions of foraging were rather more Western andliberal than mine, and on these excursions he fully indemnified himselffor any undue abstinence demanded of him when in camp. I remember beingon the wharf, with some naval officers, when he came down from his firsttrip. The steamer seemed an animated hen-coop. Live poultry hung fromthe foremast shrouds, dead ones from the mainmast, geese hissed fromthe binnacle, a pig paced the quarter-deck, and a duck's wings wereseen fluttering from a line which was wont to sustain duck trousers. Thenaval heroes, mindful of their own short rations, and taking high viewsof one's duties in a conquered country, looked at me reproachfully, as who should say, "Shall these things be?" In a moment or two thereturning foragers had landed. 

"Captain ----, " said Montgomery, courteously, "would you allow me tosend a remarkably fine turkey for your use on board ship?"

"Lieutenant ----, " said Major Corwin, "may I ask your acceptance of apair of ducks for your mess?"

Never did I behold more cordial relations between army and navy thansprang into existence at those sentences. So true it is, as CharlesLamb says, that a single present of game may diffuse kindly sentimentsthrough a whole community. These little trips were called "rest"; therewas no other rest during those ten days. An immense amount of picket andfatigue duty had to be done. Two redoubts were to be built to commandthe Northern Valley; all the intervening grove, which now affordedlurking-ground for a daring enemy, must be cleared away; and a fewhouses must be reluctantly razed for the same purpose. The fort on theleft was named Fort Higginson, and that built by my own regiment, inreturn, Fort Montgomery. The former was necessarily a hasty work, andis now, I believe, in ruins; the latter was far more elaboratelyconstructed, on lines well traced by the Fourth New Hampshire during theprevious occupation. It did great credit to Captain Trowbridge, of myregiment (formerly of the New York Volunteer Engineers), who had chargeof its construction. 

How like a dream seems now that period of daily skirmishes and nightlywatchfulness! The fatigue was so constant that the days hurried by. I felt the need of some occasional change of ideas, and having justreceived from the North Mr. Brook's beautiful translation of Jean Paul's"Titan, " I used to retire to my bedroom for some ten minutes everyafternoon, and read a chapter or two. It was more refreshing than a nap, and will always be to me one of the most fascinating books in the world, with this added association. After all, what concerned me was not somuch the fear of an attempt to drive us out and retake the city, --forthat would be against the whole policy of the Rebels in that region, --asof an effort to fulfil their threats and burn it, by some nocturnaldash. The most valuable buildings belonged to Union men, and the upperpart of the town, built chiefly of resinous pine, was combustible tothe last degree. In case of fire, if the wind blew towards the river, we might lose steamers and all. I remember regulating my degree ofdisrobing by the direction of the wind; if it blew from the river, itwas safe to make one's self quite comfortable; if otherwise, it was bestto conform to Suwarrow's idea of luxury, and take off one spur. 

So passed our busy life for ten days. There were no tidings ofreinforcements, and I hardly knew whether I wished for them, --or rather, I desired them as a choice of evils; for our men were giving out fromoverwork, and the recruiting excursions, for which we had mainly come, were hardly possible. At the utmost, I had asked for the additionof four companies and a light battery. Judge of my surprise when twoinfantry regiments successively arrived! I must resort to a scrap fromthe diary. Perhaps diaries are apt to be thought tedious; but I wouldrather read a page of one, whatever the events described, than any moredeliberate narrative, --it gives glimpses so much more real and vivid. 

"HEAD-QUARTERS, JACKSONVILLE, "March 20, 1863, Midnight. 

"For the last twenty-four hours we have been sending women and childrenout of town, in answer to a demand by flag of truce, with a threat ofbombardment. [N. B. I advised them not to go, and the majority declineddoing so. ] It was designed, no doubt, to intimidate; and in ourignorance of the force actually outside, we have had to recognize thepossibility of danger, and work hard at our defences. At any time, bygoing into the outskirts, we can have a skirmish, which is nothing butfun; but when night closes in over a small and weary garrison, theresometimes steals into my mind, like a chill, that most sickening of allsensations, the anxiety of a commander. This was the night generally setfor an attack, if any, though I am pretty well satisfied that they havenot strength to dare it, and the worst they could probably do is to burnthe town. But to-night, instead of enemies, appear friends, --our devotedcivic ally, Judge S. , and a whole Connecticut regiment, the Sixth, underMajor Meeker; and though the latter are aground, twelve miles below, yetthey enable one to breathe more freely. I only wish they were black; butnow I have to show, not only that blacks can fight, but that they andwhite soldiers can act in harmony together. "

That evening the enemy came up for a reconnoissance, in the deepestdarkness, and there were alarms all night. The next day the SixthConnecticut got afloat, and came up the river; and two days after, tomy continued amazement, arrived a part of the Eighth Maine, underLieutenant-Colonel Twichell. This increased my command to fourregiments, or parts of regiments, half white and half black. Skirmishinghad almost ceased, --our defences being tolerably complete, and lookingfrom without much more effective than they really were. We were safefrom any attack by a small force, and hoped that the enemy couldnot spare a large one from Charleston or Savannah. All looked brightwithout, and gave leisure for some small anxieties within. 

It was the first time in the war (so far as I know) that white and blacksoldiers had served together on regular duty. Jealousy was still felttowards even the officers of colored regiments, and any difficultcontingency would be apt to bring it out. The white soldiers, just fromship-board, felt a natural desire to stray about the town; and no attackfrom an enemy would be so disastrous as the slightest collision betweenthem and the black provost-guard. I shudder, even now, to think ofthe train of consequences, bearing on the whole course of subsequentnational events, which one such mishap might then have produced. It isalmost impossible for us now to remember in what a delicate balancethen hung the whole question of negro enlistments, and consequentlyof Slavery. Fortunately for my own serenity, I had great faith in theintrinsic power of military discipline, and also knew that a commonservice would soon produce mutual respect among good soldiers; and soit proved. But the first twelve hours of this mixed command were to me amore anxious period than any outward alarms had created. 

Let us resort to the note-book again. 

"JACKSONVILLE, March 22, 1863. 

"It is Sunday; the bell is ringing for church, and Rev. Mr. F. , from Beaufort, is to preach. This afternoon our good quartermasterestablishes a Sunday-school for our little colony of 'contrabands, ' nownumbering seventy. 

"Sunday Afternoon. 

"The bewildering report is confirmed; and in addition to the SixthConnecticut, which came yesterday, appears part of the Eighth Maine. Theremainder, with its colonel, will be here to-morrow, and, report says, Major-General Hunter. Now my hope is that we may go to some point higherup the river, which we can hold for ourselves. There are two otherpoints [Magnolia and Pilatka], which, in themselves, are as favorable asthis, and, for getting recruits, better. So I shall hope to be allowedto go. To take posts, and then let white troops garrison them, --that ismy programme. 

"What makes the thing more puzzling is, that the Eighth Maine has onlybrought ten days' rations, so that they evidently are not to stay here;and yet where they go, or why they come, is a puzzle. Meanwhile we cansleep sound o' nights; and if the black and white babies do not quarreland pull hair, we shall do very well. "

Colonel Rust, on arriving, said frankly that he knew nothing ofthe plans prevailing in the Department, but that General Hunter wascertainly coming soon to act for himself; that it had been reported atthe North, and even at Port Royal, that we had all been captured andshot (and, indeed, I had afterwards the pleasure of reading my ownobituary in a Northern Democratic journal), and that we certainly neededreinforcements; that he himself had been sent with orders to carryout, so far as possible, the original plans of the expedition; thathe regarded himself as only a visitor, and should remain chiefly onshipboard, --which he did. He would relieve the black provost-guard bya white one, if I approved, --which I certainly did. But he said thathe felt bound to give the chief opportunities of action to the coloredtroops, --which I also approved, and which he carried out, not quite tothe satisfaction of his own eager and daring officers. 

I recall one of these enterprises, out of which we extracted a good dealof amusement; it was baptized the Battle of the Clothes-Lines. A whitecompany was out scouting in the woods behind the town, with one of mybest Florida men for a guide; and the captain sent back a message thathe had discovered a Rebel camp with twenty-two tents, beyond a creek, about four miles away; the officers and men had been distinctly seen, and it would be quite possible to capture it. Colonel Rust at oncesent me out with two hundred men to do the work, recalling the originalscouts, and disregarding the appeals of his own eager officers. Wemarched through the open pine woods, on a delightful afternoon, and metthe returning party. Poor fellows! I never shall forget the longing eyesthey cast on us, as we marched forth to the field of glory, from whichthey were debarred. We went three or four miles out, sometimes haltingto send forward a scout, while I made all the men lie down in the long, thin grass and beside the fallen trees, till one could not imagine thatthere was a person there. I remember how picturesque the effect was, when, at the signal, all rose again, like Roderick Dhu's men, and thegreen wood appeared suddenly populous with armed life. At a certainpoint forces were divided, and a detachment was sent round the head ofthe creek, to flank the unsuspecting enemy; while we of the main body, stealing with caution nearer and nearer, through ever denser woods, swooped down at last in triumph upon a solitary farmhouse, --where thefamily-washing had been hung out to dry! This was the "Rebel camp"!

It is due to Sergeant Greene, my invaluable guide, to say that he hadfrom the beginning discouraged any high hopes of a crossing of bayonets. He had early explained that it was not he who claimed to have seen thetents and the Rebel soldiers, but one of the officers, --and had pointedout that our undisturbed approach was hardly reconcilable with theexistence of a hostile camp so near. This impression had also pressedmore and more upon my own mind, but it was our business to put the thingbeyond a doubt. Probably the place may have been occasionally used fora picket-station, and we found fresh horse-tracks in the vicinity, andthere was a quantity of iron bridle-bits in the house, of which no clearexplanation could be given; so that the armed men may not have beenwholly imaginary. But camp there was none. After enjoying to the utmostthe fun of the thing, therefore, we borrowed the only horse on thepremises, hung all the bits over his neck, and as I rode him back tocamp, they clanked like broken chains. We were joined on the way by ourdear and devoted surgeon, whom I had left behind as an invalid, but whohad mounted his horse and ridden out alone to attend to our wounded, his green sash looking quite in harmony with the early spring verdureof those lovely woods. So came we back in triumph, enjoying the joke allthe more because some one else was responsible. We mystified the littlecommunity at first, but soon let out the secret, and witticisms aboundedfor a day or two, the mildest of which was the assertion that the authorof the alarm must have been "three sheets in the wind. "

Another expedition was of more exciting character. For several daysbefore the arrival of Colonel Rust a reconnaissance had been planned inthe direction of the enemy's camp, and he finally consented to its beingcarried out. By the energy of Major Corwin, of the Second South CarolinaVolunteers, aided by Mr. Holden, then a gunner on the Paul Jones, andafterwards made captain of the same regiment, one of the ten-poundParrott guns had been mounted on a hand-car, for use on the railway. This it was now proposed to bring into service. I took a large detail ofmen from the two white regiments and from my own, and had instructionsto march as far as the four-mile station on the railway, if possible, examine the country, and ascertain if the Rebel camp had been removed, as was reported, beyond that distance. I was forbidden going any fartherfrom camp, or attacking the Rebel camp, as my force comprised half ourgarrison, and should the town meanwhile be attacked from some otherdirection, it would be in great danger. 

I never shall forget the delight of that march through the open pinebarren, with occasional patches of uncertain swamp. The Eighth Maine, under Lieutenant-Colonel Twichell, was on the right, the SixthConnecticut, under Major Meeker, on the left, and my own men, underMajor Strong, in the centre, having in charge the cannon, to which theyhad been trained. Mr. Heron, from the John Adams, acted as gunner. The mounted Rebel pickets retired before us through the woods, keepingusually beyond range of the skirmishers, who in a long line--white, black, white--were deployed transversely. For the first time I saw thetwo colors fairly alternate on the military chessboard; it had been theobject of much labor and many dreams, and I liked the pattern at last. Nothing was said about the novel fact by anybody, --it all seemed to comeas matter-of-course; there appeared to be no mutual distrust among themen, and as for the officers, doubtless "each crow thought its own youngthe whitest, "--I certainly did, although doing full justice to the eagercourage of the Northern portion of my command. Especially I watched withpleasure the fresh delight of the Maine men, who had not, like the rest, been previously in action, and who strode rapidly on with their longlegs, irresistibly recalling, as their gaunt, athletic frames andsunburnt faces appeared here and there among the pines, the lumberregions of their native State, with which I was not unfamiliar. 

We passed through a former camp of the Rebels, from which everythinghad been lately removed; but when the utmost permitted limits of ourreconnoissance were reached, there were still no signs of any othercamp, and the Rebel cavalry still kept provokingly before us. Theirevident object was to lure us on to their own stronghold, and had wefallen into the trap, it would perhaps have resembled, on a smallerscale, the Olustee of the following year. With a good deal ofreluctance, however, I caused the recall to be sounded, and, after aslight halt, we began to retrace our steps. 

Straining our eyes to look along the reach of level railway whichstretched away through the pine barren, we began to see certain ominouspuffs of smoke, which might indeed proceed from some fire in the woods, but were at once set down by the men as coming from the mysteriouslocomotive battery which the Rebels were said to have constructed. Gradually the smoke grew denser, and appeared to be moving up alongthe track, keeping pace with our motion, and about two miles distant. I watched it steadily through a field-glass from our own slowly movingbattery: it seemed to move when we moved and to halt when we halted. Sometimes in the dun smoke I caught a glimpse of something blacker, raised high in the air like the threatening head of some great glidingserpent. Suddenly there came a sharp puff of lighter smoke that seemedlike a forked tongue, and then a hollow report, and we could see a greatblack projectile hurled into the air, and falling a quarter of a mileaway from us, in the woods. I did not at once learn that this first shotkilled two of the Maine men, and wounded two more. This was fired wide, but the numerous shots which followed were admirably aimed, and seldomfailed to fall or explode close to our own smaller battery. 

It was the first time that the men had been seriously exposed toartillery fire, --a danger more exciting to the ignorant mind thanany other, as this very war has shown. * So I watched them anxiously. Fortunately there were deep trenches on each side the railway, with manystout, projecting roots, forming very tolerable bomb-proofs for thosewho happened to be near them. The enemy's gun was a sixty-four-poundBlakely, as we afterward found, whose enormous projectile movedvery slowly and gave ample time to cover, --insomuch, that, while thefragments of shell fell all around and amongst us, not a man was hurt. This soon gave the men the most buoyant confidence, and they shoutedwith childish delight over every explosion. 

*Take this for example: "The effect was electrical. The Rebels werethe best men in Ford's command, being Lieutenant-Colonel Showalter'sCalifornians, and they are brave men. They had dismounted and sent theirhorses to the rear, and were undoubtedly determined upon a desperatefight, and their superior numbers made them confident of success. Butthey never fought with artillery, and a cannon has more terror for themthan ten thousand rifles and all the wild Camanches on the plainsof Texas. At first glimpse of the shining brass monsters there was avisible wavering in the determined front of the enemy, and as the shellscame screaming over their heads the scare was complete. They brokeranks, fled for their horses, scrambled on the first that came to hand, and skedaddled in the direction of Brownsville. "_New York Evening Post_, September 25, 1864. 

The moment a shell had burst or fallen unburst, our little gun wasinvariably fired in return, and that with some precision, so far as wecould judge, its range also being nearly as great. For some reason theyshowed no disposition to overtake us, in which attempt their locomotivewould have given them an immense advantage over our heavy hand-car, andtheir cavalry force over our infantry. Nevertheless, I rather hoped thatthey would attempt it, for then an effort might have been made to cutthem off in the rear by taking up some rails. As it was, this was outof the question, though they moved slowly, as we moved, keeping alwaysabout two miles away. When they finally ceased firing we took upthe rails beyond us before withdrawing, and thus kept the enemy fromapproaching so near the city again. But I shall never forget thatDantean monster, rearing its black head amid the distant smoke, nor thesolicitude with which I watched for the puff which meant danger, andlooked round to see if my chickens were all under cover. The greatestperil, after all, was from the possible dismounting of our gun, in whichcase we should have been very apt to lose it, if the enemy had showedany dash. There may be other such tilts of railway artillery on recordduring the war; but if so, I have not happened to read of them, and sohave dwelt the longer on this. 

This was doubtless the same locomotive battery which had previouslyfired more than once upon the town, --running up within two milesand then withdrawing, while it was deemed inexpedient to destroy therailroad, on our part, lest it might be needed by ourselves in turn. Onenight, too, the Rebel threat had been fulfilled, and they had shelledthe town with the same battery. They had the range well, and everyshot fell near the post headquarters. It was exciting to see the greatBlakely shell, showing a light as it rose, and moving slowly towards uslike a comet, then exploding and scattering its formidable fragments. Yet, strange to say, no serious harm was done to life or limb, and themost formidable casualty was that of a citizen who complained that ashell had passed through the wall of his bedroom, and carried off hismosquito curtain in its transit. 

Little knew we how soon these small entertainments would be over. Colonel Montgomery had gone up the river with his two companies, perhapsto remain permanently; and I was soon to follow. On Friday, March 27th, I wrote home: "The Burnside has gone to Beaufort for rations, and theJohn Adams to Fernandina for coal; we expect both back by Sunday, and onMonday I hope to get the regiment off to a point farther up, --Magnolia, thirty-five miles, or Pilatka, seventy-five, --either of which would bea good post for us. General Hunter is expected every day, and it isstrange he has not come. " The very next day came an official orderrecalling the whole expedition, and for the third time evacuatingJacksonville. 

A council of military and naval officers was at once called (thoughthere was but one thing to be done), and the latter were even moredisappointed and amazed than the former. This was especially the casewith the senior naval officer, Captain Steedman, a South-Carolinian bybirth, but who had proved himself as patriotic as he was courteous andable, and whose presence and advice had been of the greatest valueto me. He and all of us felt keenly the wrongfulness of breaking thepledges which we had been authorized to make to these people, and ofleaving them to the mercy of the Rebels once more. Most of the peoplethemselves took the same view, and eagerly begged to accompany us on ourdeparture. They were allowed to bring their clothing and furniture also, and at once developed that insane mania for aged and valueless trumperywhich always seizes upon the human race, I believe, in moments ofdanger. With the greatest difficulty we selected between the essentialand the non-essential, and our few transports were at length loaded tothe very water's edge on the morning of March 29th, --Colonel Montgomeryhaving by this time returned from up-river, with sixteen prisoners, andthe fruits of foraging in plenty. 

And upon that last morning occurred an act on the part of some of thegarrison most deeply to be regretted, and not to be excused by thenatural indignation at their recall, --an act which, through theunfortunate eloquence of one newspaper correspondent, rang through thenation, --the attempt to burn the town. I fortunately need not dwell muchupon it, as I was not at the time in command of the post, --as the whitesoldiers frankly took upon themselves the whole responsibility, --andas all the fires were made in the wooden part of the city, which wasoccupied by them, while none were made in the brick part, where thecolored soldiers were quartered. It was fortunate for our reputationthat the newspaper accounts generally agreed in exculpating us from allshare in the matter;* and the single exception, which one correspondentasserted, I could never verify, and do not believe to have existed. It was stated by Colonel Rust, in his official report, that sometwenty-five buildings in all were burned, and I doubt if the actualnumber was greater; but this was probably owing in part to a change ofwind, and did not diminish the discredit of the transaction. It madeour sorrow at departure no less, though it infinitely enhanced theimpressiveness of the scene. 

 *"The colored regiments had nothing at all to do with it; they behaved with propriety throughout" _Boston Journal_ Correspondence. ("Carleton. ")

"The negro troops took no part whatever in the perpetration of thisVandalism. "_New York Tribune_ Correspondence. ("N. P. ")

"We know not whether we are most rejoiced or saddened to observe, by thegeneral concurrence of accounts, that the negro soldiers had nothing todo with the barbarous act" _Boston Journal_ Editorial, April 10, 1863. 

The excitement of the departure was intense. The embarkation was solaborious that it seemed as if the flames must be upon us before wecould get on board, and it was also generally expected that the Rebelskirmishers would be down among the houses, wherever practicable, toannoy us to the utmost, as had been the case at the previous evacuation. They were, indeed, there, as we afterwards heard, but did not venture tomolest us. The sight and roar of the flames, and the rolling clouds ofsmoke, brought home to the impressible minds of the black soldiers alltheir favorite imagery of the Judgment-Day; and those who were not toomuch depressed by disappointment were excited by the spectacle, and sangand exhorted without ceasing. 

With heavy hearts their officers floated down the lovely river, whichwe had ascended with hopes so buoyant; and from that day to this, thereasons for our recall have never been made public. It was commonlyattributed to proslavery advisers, acting on the rather impulsive natureof Major-General Hunter, with a view to cut short the career of thecolored troops, and stop their recruiting. But it may have been simplythe scarcity of troops in the Department, and the renewed conviction athead-quarters that we were too few to hold the post alone. Thelatter theory was strengthened by the fact that, when General Seymourreoccupied Jacksonville, the following year, he took with him twentythousand men instead of one thousand, --and the sanguinary battle ofOlustee found him with too few. 

Chapter 5. Out on Picket

One can hardly imagine a body of men more disconsolate than a regimentsuddenly transferred from an adventurous life in the enemy's countryto the quiet of a sheltered camp, on safe and familiar ground. Themen under my command were deeply dejected when, on a most appropriateday, --the First of April, 1863, --they found themselves unaccountablyrecalled from Florida, that region of delights which had seemed theirsby the right of conquest. My dusky soldiers, who based their wholewalk and conversation strictly on the ancient Israelites, felt that theprophecies were all set at naught, and that they were on the wrongside of the Red Sea; indeed, I fear they regarded even me as a sort ofreversed Moses, whose Pisgah fronted in the wrong direction. Had theyforeseen how the next occupation of the Promised Land was destinedto result, they might have acquiesced with more of their wontedcheerfulness. As it was, we were very glad to receive, after a few daysof discontented repose on the very ground where we had once been sohappy, an order to go out on picket at Port Royal Ferry, with theunderstanding that we might remain there for some time. This picketstation was regarded as a sort of military picnic by the regimentsstationed at Beaufort, South Carolina; it meant blackberries andoysters, wild roses and magnolias, flowery lanes instead of sandybarrens, and a sort of guerilla existence in place of the camp routine. To the colored soldiers especially, with their love of country life, and their extensive personal acquaintance on the plantations, it seemedquite like a Christmas festival. Besides, they would be in sight of theenemy, and who knew but there might, by the blessing of Providence, be araid or a skirmish? If they could not remain on the St. John's River, itwas something to dwell on the Coosaw. In the end they enjoyed it as muchas they expected, and though we "went out" several times subsequently, until it became an old story, the enjoyment never waned. And as eventhe march from the camp to the picket lines was something that could notpossibly have been the same for any white regiment in the service, it isworth while to begin at the beginning and describe it. 

A regiment ordered on picket was expected to have reveille at daybreak, and to be in line for departure by sunrise. This delighted our men, whoalways took a childlike pleasure in being out of bed at any unreasonablehour; and by the time I had emerged, the tents were nearly all struck, and the great wagons were lumbering into camp to receive them, withwhatever else was to be transported. The first rays of the sun mustfall upon the line of these wagons, moving away across the wideparade-ground, followed by the column of men, who would soon outstripthem. But on the occasion which I especially describe the sun wasshrouded, and, when once upon the sandy plain, neither camp nor town norriver could be seen in the dimness; and when I rode forward and lookedback there was only visible the long, moving, shadowy column, seemingrather awful in its snake-like advance. There was a swaying of flagsand multitudinous weapons that might have been camels' necks for allone could see, and the whole thing might have been a caravan upon thedesert. Soon we debouched upon the "Shell Road, " the wagon-train drewon one side into the fog, and by the time the sun appeared the musicceased, the men took the "route step, " and the fun began. 

The "route step" is an abandonment of all military strictness, andnothing is required of the men but to keep four abreast, and not lagbehind. They are not required to keep step, though, with the rhythmicalear of our soldiers, they almost always instinctively did so; talkingand singing are allowed, and of this privilege, at least, they eagerlyavailed themselves. On this day they were at the top of exhilaration. There was one broad grin from one end of the column to the other; itmight soon have been a caravan of elephants instead of camels, for theivory and the blackness; the chatter and the laughter almost drownedthe tramp of feet and the clatter of equipments. At cross-roads andplantation gates the colored people thronged to see us pass; every onefound a friend and a greeting. "How you do, aunty?" "Huddy (how d'ye), Budder Benjamin?" "How you find yourself dis mor-nin', Tittawisa (SisterLouisa)?" Such saluations rang out to everybody, known or unknown. Inreturn, venerable, kerchiefed matrons courtesied laboriously to everyone, with an unfailing "Bress de Lord, budder. " Grave little boys, blacker than ink, shook hands with our laughing and utterly unmanageabledrummers, who greeted them with this sure word of prophecy, "Dem's dedrummers for de nex' war!" Pretty mulatto girls ogled and coquetted, and made eyes, as Thackeray would say, at half the young fellows in thebattalion. Meantime the singing was brisk along the whole column, andwhen I sometimes reined up to see them pass, the chant of each company, entering my ear, drove out from the other ear the strain of thepreceding. Such an odd mixture of things, military and missionary, asthe successive waves of song drifted byl First, "John Brown, " of course;then, "What make old Satan for follow me so?" then, "Marching Along";then, "Hold your light on Canaan's shore"; then, "When this cruel waris over" (a new favorite, sung by a few); yielding presently to a grandburst of the favorite marching song among them all, and one at whichevery step instinctively quickened, so light and jubilant its rhythm, --

 "All true children gwine in de wilderness, Gwine in de wilderness, gwine in de wilderness, True believers gwine in de wilderness, To take away de sins ob de world, "--

ending in a "Hoigh!" after each verse, --a sort of Irish yell. For allthe songs, but especially for their own wild hymns, they constantlyimprovised simple verses, with the same odd mingling, --the little factsof to-day's march being interwoven with the depths of theological gloom, and the same jubilant chorus annexed to all; thus, --

 "We're gwin to de Ferry, De bell done ringing; Gwine to de landing, De bell done ringing; Trust, believer O, de bell done ringing; Satan's behind me, De bell done ringing; 'T is a misty morning, De bell done ringing; O de road am sandy, De bell done ringing; Hell been open, De bell done ringing";--

and so on indefinitely. 

The little drum-corps kept in advance, a jolly crew, their drums slungon their backs, and the drum-sticks perhaps balanced on their heads. With them went the officers' servant-boys, more uproarious still, alwaysready to lend their shrill treble to any song. At the head of the wholeforce there walked, by some self-imposed pre-eminence, a respectableelderly female, one of the company laundresses, whose vigorous stride wenever could quite overtake, and who had an enormous bundle balanced onher head, while she waved in her hand, like a sword, a long-handled tindipper. Such a picturesque medley of fun, war, and music I believe nowhite regiment in the service could have shown; and yet there was nostraggling, and a single tap of the drum would at any moment bring orderout of this seeming chaos. So we marched our seven miles out upon thesmooth and shaded road, --beneath jasmine clusters, and great pine-conesdropping, and great bunches of misletoe still in bloom among thebranches. Arrived at the station, the scene soon became busy and moreconfused; wagons were being unloaded, tents pitched, water brought, woodcut, fires made, while the "field and staff" could take possession ofthe abandoned quarters of their predecessors, and we could look round inthe lovely summer morning to "survey our empire and behold our home. "

The only thoroughfare by land between Beaufort and Charleston is the"Shell Road, " a beautiful avenue, which, about nine miles from Beaufort, strikes a ferry across the Coosaw River. War abolished the ferry, andmade the river the permanent barrier between the opposing picket lines. For ten miles, right and left, these lines extended, marked by well-wornfootpaths, following the endless windings of the stream; and they nevervaried until nearly the end of the war. Upon their maintenance dependedour whole foothold on the Sea Islands; and upon that again finallydepended the whole campaign of Sherman. But for the services of thecolored troops, which finally formed the main garrison of the Departmentof the South, the Great March would never have been performed. 

There was thus a region ten or twelve miles square of which I hadexclusive military command. It was level, but otherwise broken andbewildering to the last degree. No road traversed it, properly speaking, but the Shell Road. All the rest was a wild medley of cypress swamp, pine barren, muddy creek, and cultivated plantation, intersected byinterminable lanes and bridle-paths, through which we must ride dayand night, and which our horses soon knew better than ourselves. Theregiment was distributed at different stations, the main force beingunder my immediate command, at a plantation close by the Shell Road, twomiles from the ferry, and seven miles from Beaufort. Our first picketduty was just at the time of the first attack on Charleston, underDupont and Hunter; and it was generally supposed that the Confederateswould make an effort to recapture the Sea Islands. My orders were towatch the enemy closely, keep informed as to his position and movements, attempt no advance, and, in case any were attempted from the otherside, to delay it as long as possible, sending instant notice tohead-quarters. As to the delay, that could be easily guaranteed. Therewere causeways on the Shell Road which a single battery couldhold against a large force; and the plantations were everywhere sointersected by hedges and dikes that they seemed expressly planned fordefence. Although creeks wound in and out everywhere, yet these wereonly navigable at high tide, and at all other times were impassablemarshes. There were but few posts where the enemy were within riflerange, and their occasional attacks at those points were soon stopped byour enforcement of a pithy order from General Hunter, "Give them as goodas they send. " So that, with every opportunity for being kept on thealert, there was small prospect of serious danger; and all promisedan easy life, with only enough of care to make it pleasant. The picketstation was therefore always a coveted post among the regiments, combining some undeniable importance with a kind of relaxation; and aswe were there three months on our first tour of duty, and returned thereseveral times afterwards, we got well acquainted with it. The wholeregion always reminded me of the descriptions of La Vende'e, and Ialways expected to meet Henri Larochejaquelein riding in the woods. 

How can I ever describe the charm and picturesqueness of that summerlife? Our house possessed four spacious rooms and a _piazza_; around itwere grouped sheds and tents; the camp was a little way off on one side, the negro-quarters of the plantation on the other; and all was immersedin a dense mass of waving and murmuring locust-blossoms. The spring dayswere always lovely, while the evenings were always conveniently damp; sothat we never shut the windows by day, nor omitted our cheerful fireby night. Indoors, the main head-quarters seemed like the camp of someparty of young engineers in time of peace, only with a little femalesociety added, and a good many martial associations thrown in. A large, low, dilapidated room, with an immense fireplace, and with window-paneschiefly broken, so that the sashes were still open even whenclosed, --such was our home. The walls were scrawled with capitalcharcoal sketches by R. Of the Fourth New Hampshire, and with a goodmap of the island and its wood-paths by C. Of the First MassachusettsCavalry. The room had the picturesqueness which comes everywhere fromthe natural grouping of articles of daily use, --swords, belts, pistols, rifles, field-glasses, spurs, canteens, gauntlets, --while wreaths ofgray moss above the windows, and a pelican's wing three feet long overthe high mantel-piece, indicated more deliberate decoration. This, andthe whole atmosphere of the place, spoke of the refining presence ofagreeable women; and it was pleasant when they held their little courtin the evening, and pleasant all day, with the different visitors whowere always streaming in and out, --officers and soldiers on variousbusiness; turbaned women from the plantations, coming with complaints orquestionings; fugitives from the main-land to be interrogated; visitorsriding up on horseback, their hands full of jasmine and wild roses; andthe sweet sunny air all perfumed with magnolias and the Southern pine. From the neighboring camp there was a perpetual low hum. Louder voicesand laughter re-echoed, amid the sharp sounds of the axe, from the pinewoods; and sometimes, when the relieved pickets were discharging theirpieces, there came the hollow sound of dropping rifle-shots, as inskirmishing, --perhaps the most unmistakable and fascinating associationthat war bequeaths to the memory of the ear. 

Our domestic arrangements were of the oddest description. From the timewhen we began housekeeping by taking down the front-door to completetherewith a little office for the surgeon on the _piazza_, everythingseemed upside down. I slept on a shelf in the corner of the parlor, bequeathed me by Major F. , my jovial predecessor, and, if I waked at anytime, could put my head through the broken window, arouse my orderly, and ride off to see if I could catch a picket asleep. We used to spellthe word _picquet_, because that was understood to be the correct thing, in that Department at least; and they used to say at post head-quartersthat as soon as the officer in command of the outposts grew negligent, and was guilty of a _k_, he was ordered in immediately. Then thearrangements for ablution were peculiar. We fitted up a bathing-placein a brook, which somehow got appropriated at once by the companylaundresses; but I had my revenge, for I took to bathing in the familywashtub. After all, however, the kitchen department had the advantage, for they used my solitary napkin to wipe the mess-table. As for food, wefound it impossible to get chickens, save in the immature shape of eggs;fresh pork was prohibited by the surgeon, and other fresh meat camerarely. We could, indeed, hunt for wild turkeys, and even deer, but suchhunting was found only to increase the appetite, without correspondingsupply. Still we had our luxuries, --large, delicious drum-fish, andalligator steaks, --like a more substantial fried halibut, --which mighthave afforded the theme for Charles Lamb's dissertation on Roast Pig, and by whose aid "for the first time in our lives we tested _crackling_"The post bakery yielded admirable bread; and for vegetables and fruit wehad very poor sweet potatoes, and (in their season) an unlimited supplyof the largest blackberries. For beverage, we had the vapid milk of thatregion, in which, if you let it stand, the water sinks instead of thecream's rising; and the delicious sugar-cane syrup, which we had broughtfrom Florida, and which we drank at all hours. Old Floridians say thatno one is justified in drinking whiskey, while he can get cane-juice; itis sweet and spirited, without cloying, foams like ale, and there werelittle spots on the ceiling of the dining-room where our lively beveragehad popped out its cork. We kept it in a whiskey-bottle; and as whiskeyitself was absolutely prohibited among us, it was amusing to see thesurprise of our military visitors when this innocent substitutewas brought in. They usually liked it in the end, but, like the oldFrenchwoman over her glass of water, wished that it were a sin to giveit a relish. As the foaming beakers of molasses and water were handedround, the guests would make with them the courteous little gesturesof polite imbiding, and would then quaff the beverage, some with gusto, others with a slight afterlook of dismay. But it was a delicious andcooling drink while it lasted; and at all events was the best and theworst we had. 

We used to have reveille at six, and breakfast about seven; then themounted couriers began to arrive from half a dozen different directions, with written reports of what had happened during the night, --aboat seen, a picket fired upon, a battery erecting. These must beconsolidated and forwarded to head-quarters, with the daily report ofthe command, --so many sick, so many on detached service, and all therest. This was our morning newspaper, our Herald and Tribune; I nevergot tired of it. Then the couriers must be furnished with countersignand instructions, and sent off again. Then we scattered to our variousrides, all disguised as duty; one to inspect pickets, one to visit asick soldier, one to build a bridge or clear a road, and still anotherto head-quarters for ammunition or commissary stores. Galloping throughgreen lanes, miles of triumphal arches of wild roses, --roses pale andlarge and fragrant, mingled with great boughs of the white cornel, fantastic masses, snowy surprises, --such were our rides, ranging fromeight to fifteen and even twenty miles. Back to a late dinner with ourvarious experiences, and perhaps specimens to match, --a thunder-snake, eight feet long; a live opossum, with a young clinging to the naturalpouch; an armful of great white, scentless pond-lilies. After dinner, to the tangled garden for rosebuds or early magnolias, whose cloyingfragrance will always bring back to me the full zest of those summerdays; then dress-parade and a little drill as the day grew cool. In theevening, tea; and then the piazza or the fireside, as the case mightbe, --chess, cards, --perhaps a little music by aid of the assistantsurgeon's melodeon, a few pages of Jean Paul's "Titan, " almost myonly book, and carefully husbanded, --perhaps a mail, with its infinitefelicities. Such was our day. 

Night brought its own fascinations, more solitary and profound. Thedarker they were, the more clearly it was our duty to visit thepickets. The paths that had grown so familiar by day seemed a wholly newlabyrinth by night; and every added shade of darkness seemed to shiftand complicate them all anew, till at last man's skill grew utterlybaffled, and the clew must be left to the instinct of the horse. Ridingbeneath the solemn starlight, or soft, gray mist, or densest blackness, the frogs croaking, the strange "chuckwuts-widow" droning his ominousnote above my head, the mocking-bird dreaming in music, the greatSouthern fireflies rising to the tree-tops, or hovering close to theground like glowworms, till the horse raised his hoofs to avoid them;through pine woods and cypress swamps, or past sullen brooks, orwhite tents, or the dimly seen huts of sleeping negroes; down to theglimmering shore, where black statues leaned against trees or stoodalert in the pathways;--never, in all the days of my life, shall Iforget the magic of those haunted nights. 

We had nocturnal boat service, too, for it was a part of ourinstructions to obtain all possible information about the enemy'sposition; and we accordingly, as usual in such cases, incurred a greatmany risks that harmed nobody, and picked up much information which didnobody any good. The centre of these nightly reconnoissances, for along time, was the wreck of the George Washington, the story of whosedisaster is perhaps worth telling. 

Till about the time when we went on picket, it had been the occasionalhabit of the smaller gunboats to make the circuit of Port RoyalIsland, --a practice which was deemed very essential to the safety of ourposition, but which the Rebels effectually stopped, a few days after ourarrival, by destroying the army gunboat George Washington with a singleshot from a light battery. I was roused soon after daybreak by thefiring, and a courier soon came dashing in with the particulars. Forwarding these hastily to Beaufort (for we had then no telegraph), Iwas soon at the scene of action, five miles away. Approaching, I met onthe picket paths man after man who had escaped from the wreck acrossa half-mile of almost impassable marsh. Never did I see suchobjects, --some stripped to their shirts, some fully clothed, but allhaving every garment literally pasted to them--bodies with mud. Acrossthe river, the Rebels were retiring, having done their work, but werestill shelling, from greater and greater distances, the wood throughwhich I rode. Arrived at the spot nearest the wreck (a point opposite towhat we called the Brickyard Station), I saw the burning vessel agroundbeyond a long stretch of marsh, out of which the forlorn creatures werestill floundering. Here and there in the mud and reeds we could see thelaboring heads, slowly advancing, and could hear excruciating cries fromwounded men in the more distant depths. It was the strangest mixture ofwar and Dante and Robinson Crusoe. Our energetic chaplain coming up, Isent him with four men, under a flag of truce, to the place whence theworst cries proceeded, while I went to another part of the marsh. Duringthat morning we got them all out, our last achievement being therescue of the pilot, an immense negro with a wooden leg, --an article soparticularly unavailable for mud travelling, that it would have almostseemed better, as one of the men suggested, to cut the traces, and leaveit behind. 

A naval gunboat, too, which had originally accompanied this vessel, andshould never have left it, now came back and took off the survivors, though there had been several deaths from scalding and shell. Itproved that the wreck was not aground after all, but at anchor, havingfoolishly lingered till after daybreak, and having thus given timefor the enemy to bring down then: guns. The first shot had struck theboiler, and set the vessel on fire; after which the officer in commandhad raised a white flag, and then escaped with his men to our shore; andit was for this flight in the wrong direction that they were shelledin the marshes by the Rebels. The case furnished in this respect someparallel to that of the Kearsage and Alabama, and it was afterwardscited, I believe, officially or unofficially, to show that the Rebelshad claimed the right to punish, in this case, the course of actionwhich they approved in Semmes. I know that they always assertedthenceforward that the detachment on board the George Washington hadbecome rightful prisoners of war, and were justly fired upon when theytried to escape. 

This was at the tune of the first attack on Charleston, and the noise ofthis cannonading spread rapidly thither, and brought four regiments toreinforce Beaufort in a hurry, under the impression that the town wasalready taken, and that they must save what remnants they could. GeneralSaxton, too, had made such capital plans for defending the post thathe could not bear not to have it attacked; so, while the Rebels broughtdown a force to keep us from taking the guns off the wreck, I was alsosupplied with a section or two of regular artillery, and some additionalinfantry, with which to keep them from it; and we tried to "make believevery hard, " and rival the Charleston expedition on our own island. Indeed, our affair came to about as much, --nearly nothing, --and lasteddecidedly longer; for both sides nibbled away at the guns, by night, forweeks afterward, though I believe the mud finally got them, --at least, we did not. We tried in vain to get the use of a steamboat or floatingderrick of any kind; for it needed more mechanical ingenuity than wepossessed to transfer anything so heavy to our small boats by night, while by day we did not go near the wreck in anything larger than a"dug-out. "

One of these nocturnal visits to the wreck I recall with peculiar gusto, because it brought back that contest with catarrh and coughing among myown warriors which had so ludicrously beset me in Florida. It was alwaysfascinating to be on those forbidden waters by night, stealing out withmuffled oars through the creeks and reeds, our eyes always strainedfor other voyagers, our ears listening breathlessly to all the marshsounds, --blackflsh splashing, and little wakened reed-birds that fledwailing away over the dim river, equally safe on either side. But italways appeared to the watchful senses that we were making noise enoughto be heard at Fort Sumter; and somehow the victims of catarrh seemedalways the most eager for any enterprise requiring peculiar caution. In this case I thought I had sifted them before-hand; but as soon as wewere afloat, one poor boy near me began to wheeze, and I turned uponhim in exasperation. He saw his danger, and meekly said, "I won't cough, Gunnel!" and he kept his word. For two mortal hours he sat grasping hisgun, with never a chirrup. But two unfortunates in the bow of the boatdeveloped symptoms which I could not suppress; so, putting in at apicket station, with some risk I dumped them in mud knee-deep, andembarked a substitute, who after the first five minutes absolutelycoughed louder than both the others united. Handkerchiefs, blankets, over-coats, suffocation in its direst forms, were tried in vain, butapparently the Rebel pickets slept through it all, and we exploded thewreck in safety. I think they were asleep, for certainly across thelevel marshes there came a nasal sound, as of the "Con-thieveracy" inits slumbers. It may have been a bull-frog, but it sounded like a humansnore. 

Picket life was of course the place to feel the charm of natural beautyon the Sea Islands. We had a world of profuse and tangled vegetationaround us, such as would have been a dream of delight to me, but for theconstant sense of responsibility and care which came between. Amidthis preoccupation, Nature seemed but a mirage, and not the close andintimate associate I had before known. I pressed no flowers, collectedno insects or birds' eggs, made no notes on natural objects, reversingin these respects all previous habits. Yet now, in the retrospect, thereseems to have been infused into me through every pore the voluptuouscharm of the season and the place; and the slightest correspondingsound or odor now calls back the memory of those delicious days. Beingafterwards on picket at almost every season, I tasted the sensations ofall; and though I hardly then thought of such a result, the associationsof beauty will remain forever. 

In February, for instance, --though this was during a later period ofpicket service, --the woods were usually draped with that "net of shininghaze" which marks our Northern May; and the house was embowered inwild-plum-blossoms, small, white, profuse, and tenanted by murmuringbees. There were peach-blossoms, too, and the yellow jasmine was openingits multitudinous buds, climbing over tall trees, and waving from boughto bough. There were fresh young ferns and white bloodroot in the edgesof woods, matched by snowdrops in the garden, beneath budded myrtleand _Petisporum_. In this wilderness the birds were busy; the twomain songsters being the mocking-bird and the cardinal-grosbeak, whichmonopolized all the parts of our more varied Northern orchestra savethe tender and liquid notes, which in South Carolina seemed unattemptedexcept by some stray blue-bird. Jays were as loud and busy as at theNorth in autumn; there were sparrows and wrens; and sometimes I noticedthe shy and whimsical chewink. 

From this early spring-time onward, there seemed no great difference inatmospheric sensations, and only a succession of bloom. After two monthsone's notions of the season grew bewildered, just as very early risingbewilders the day. In the army one is perhaps roused after a bivouac, marches before daybreak, halts, fights, somebody is killed, a longday's life has been lived, and after all it is not seven o'clock, andbreakfast is not ready. So when we had lived in summer so long as hardlyto remember winter, it suddenly occurred to us that it was not yet June. One escapes at the South that mixture of hunger and avarice which isfelt in the Northern summer, counting each hour's joy with the sadconsciousness that an hour is gone. The compensating loss is in missingthose soft, sweet, liquid sensations of the Northern spring, that burstof life and joy, those days of heaven that even April brings; and thisabsence of childhood in the year creates a feeling of hardness in theseason, like that I have suggested in the melody of the Southernbirds. It seemed to me also that the woods had not those pure, clean, _innocent_ odors which so abound in the New England forest inearly spring; but there was something luscious, voluptuous, almostoppressively fragrant about the magnolias, as if they belonged not toHebe, but to Magdalen. 

Such immense and lustrous butterflies I had never seen but in dreams;and not even dreams had prepared me for sand-flies. Almost too small tobe seen, they inflicted a bite which appeared larger than themselves, --apositive wound, more torturing than that of a mosquito, and leavingmore annoyance behind. These tormentors elevated dress-parade into thedignity of a military engagement. I had to stand motionless, with myhead a mere nebula of winged atoms, while tears rolled profusely down myface, from mere muscular irritation. Had I stirred a finger, the wholebattalion would have been slapping its cheeks. Such enemies were, however, a valuable aid to discipline, on the whole, as they aboundedin the guard-house, and made that institution an object of unusualabhorrence among the men. 

The presence of ladies and the homelike air of everything, made thepicket station a very popular resort while we were there. It was theone agreeable ride from Beaufort, and we often had a dozen peopleunexpectedly to dinner. On such occasions there was sometimes mountingin hot haste, and an eager search among the outlying plantations foradditional chickens and eggs, or through the company kitchens for someof those villanous tin cans which everywhere marked the progress of ourarmy. In those cans, so far as my observation went, all fruitsrelapsed into a common acidulation, and all meats into a similarity oftastelessness; while the "condensed milk" was best described by the men, who often unconsciously stumbled on a better joke than they knew, andalways spoke of it as _condemned_ milk. 

We had our own excursions too, --to the Barnwell plantations, withtheir beautiful avenues and great live-oaks, the perfection of Southernbeauty, --to Hall's Island, debatable ground, close under theenemy's fire, where half-wild cattle were to be shot, under militaryprecautions, like Scottish moss-trooping, --or to the ferry, where itwas fascinating to the female mind to scan the Rebel pickets througha field-glass. Our horses liked the by-ways far better than the levelhardness of the Shell Road, especially those we had brought fromFlorida, which enjoyed the wilderness as if they had belonged toMarion's men. They delighted to feel the long sedge brush their flanks, or to gallop down the narrow wood-paths, leaping the fallen trees, andscaring the bright little lizards which shot across our track like liverays broken from the sunbeams. We had an abundance of horses, mostlycaptured and left in our hands by some convenient delay of the postquartermaster. We had also two side-saddles, which, not being munitionsof war, could not properly (as we explained) be transferred like othercaptured articles to the general stock; otherwise the P. Q. M. (amarried man) would have showed no unnecessary delay in their case. For miscellaneous accommodation was there not an ambulance, --that mostinestimable of army conveniences, equally ready to carry the merry toa feast or the wounded from a fray. "Ambulance" was one of those words, rather numerous, which Ethiopian lips were not framed by Nature toarticulate. Only the highest stages of colored culture could compass it;on the tongue of the many it was transformed mystically as "amulet, " orambitiously as "epaulet, " or in culinary fashion as "omelet. " But it wasour experience that an ambulance under any name jolted equally hard. 

Besides these divertisements, we had more laborious vocations, --a gooddeal of fatigue, and genuine though small alarms. The men went on dutyevery third day at furthest, and the officers nearly as often, --mostof the tours of duty lasting twenty-four hours, though the stream wasconsidered to watch itself tolerably well by daylight. This kind ofresponsibility suited the men; and we had already found, as the wholearmy afterwards acknowledged, that the constitutional watchfulness anddistrustfulness of the colored race made them admirable sentinels. Soonafter we went on picket, the commanding general sent an aid, with acavalry escort, to visit all the stations, without my knowledge. Theyspent the whole night, and the officer reported that he could not getwithin thirty yards of any post without a challenge. This was a pleasantassurance for me; since our position seemed so secure, compared withJacksonville, that I had feared some relaxation of vigilance, while yetthe safety of all depended on our thorough discharge of duty. 

Jacksonville had also seasoned the men so well that they were no longernervous, and did not waste much powder on false alarms. The Rebels madeno formal attacks, and rarely attempted to capture pickets. Sometimesthey came stealing through the creeks in "dugouts, " as we did on theirside of the water, and occasionally an officer of ours was fired uponwhile making his rounds by night. Often some boat or scow would goadrift, and sometimes a mere dark mass of river-weed would be floated bythe tide past the successive stations, eliciting a challenge and perhapsa shot from each. I remember the vivid way in which one of the menstated to his officer the manner in which a faithful picket should dohis duty, after challenging, in case a boat came in sight. "Fus' ting Ishoot, and den I shoot, and den I shoot again. Den I creep-creep up nearde boat, and see who dey in 'em; and s'pose anybody pop up he head, denI shoot again. S'pose I fire my forty rounds. I tink he hear at decamp and send more mans, "--which seemed a reasonable presumption. Thissoldier's name was Paul Jones, a daring fellow, quite worthy of hisnamesake. 

In time, however, they learned quieter methods, and would wade far outin the water, there standing motionless at last, hoping to surround andcapture these floating boats, though, to their great disappointment, the prize usually proved empty. On one occasion they tried a stillprofounder strategy; for an officer visiting the pickets after midnight, and hearing in the stillness a portentous snore from the end of thecauseway (our most important station), straightway hurried to the pointof danger, with wrath in his soul. But the sergeant of the squad cameout to meet him, imploring silence, and explaining that they had seen orsuspected a boat hovering near, and were feigning sleep in order to lureand capture those who would entrap them. 

The one military performance at the picket station of which my men wereutterly intolerant was an occasional flag of truce, for which thiswas the appointed locality. These farces, for which it was our dutyto furnish the stock actors, always struck them as being utterlydespicable, and unworthy the serious business of war. They felt, Isuppose, what Mr. Pickwick felt, when he heard his counsel remark to thecounsel for the plaintiff, that it was a very fine morning. It goadedtheir souls to see the young officers from the two opposing armiessalute each other courteously, and interchange cigars. They despised theobject of such negotiations, which was usually to send over to the enemysome family of Rebel women who had made themselves quite intolerable onour side, but were not above collecting a subscription among the Unionofficers, before departure, to replenish their wardrobes. The men nevershowed disrespect to these women by word or deed, but they hated themfrom the bottom of their souls. Besides, there was a grievance behindall this. 

The Rebel order remained unrevoked which consigned the new coloredtroops and their officers to a felon's death, if captured; and we allfelt that we fought with ropes round our necks. "Dere's no flags obtruce for us, " the men would contemptuously say. "When de Secesh fightde _Fus' Souf_" (First South Carolina), "he fight in earnest. " Indeed, I myself took it as rather a compliment when the commander on theother side--though an old acquaintance of mine in Massachusetts andin Kansas--at first refused to negotiate through me or my officers, --arefusal which was kept up, greatly to the enemy's inconvenience, untilour men finally captured some of the opposing pickets, and their friendshad to waive all scruples in order to send them supplies. After thisthere was no trouble, and I think that the first Rebel officer in SouthCarolina who officially met any officer of colored troops under aflag of truce was Captain John C. Calhoun. In Florida we had been sorecognized long before; but that was when they wished to frighten us outof Jacksonville. 

Such was our life on picket at Port Royal, --a thing whose memory is nowfast melting into such stuff as dreams are made of. We stayed there morethan two months at that tune; the first attack on Charleston explodedwith one puff, and had its end; General Hunter was ordered North, and the busy Gilmore reigned in his stead; and in June, when theblackberries were all eaten, we were summoned, nothing loath, to otherscenes and encampments new. 

Chapter 6. A Night in the Water

Yes, that was a pleasant life on picket, in the delicious early summerof the South, and among the endless flowery forests of that blossomingisle. In the retrospect I seem to see myself adrift upon a horse's backamid a sea of roses. The various outposts were within a six-mile radius, and it was one long, delightful gallop, day and night. I have a faintimpression that the moon shone steadily every night for two months; andyet I remember certain periods of such dense darkness that in ridingthrough the wood-paths it was really unsafe to go beyond a walk, forfear of branches above and roots below; and one of my officers was onceshot at by a Rebel scout who stood unperceived at his horse's bridle. 

To those doing outpost-duty on an island, however large, the main-landhas all the fascination of forbidden fruit, and on a scale bounded onlyby the horizon. Emerson says that every house looks ideal until we enterit, --and it is certainly so, if it be just the other side of the hostilelines. Every grove in that blue distance appears enchanted ground, andyonder loitering gray-back leading his horse to water in the farthestdistance, makes one thrill with a desire to hail him, to shoot at him, to capture him, to do anything to bridge this inexorable dumb space thatlies between. A boyish feeling, no doubt, and one that time diminishes, without effacing; yet it is a feeling which lies at the bottom of manyrash actions in war, and of some brilliant ones. For one, I could neverquite outgrow it, though restricted by duty from doing many foolishthings in consequence, and also restrained by reverence for certainconfidential advisers whom I had always at hand, and who considered ittheir mission to keep me always on short rations of personal adventure. Indeed, most of that sort of entertainment in the army devolvesupon scouts detailed for the purpose, volunteer aides-de-camp andnewspaper-reporters, --other officers being expected to be about businessmore prosaic. 

All the excitements of war are quadrupled by darkness; and as I rodealong our outer lines at night, and watched the glimmering flames whichat regular intervals starred the opposite river-shore, the longing wasirresistible to cross the barrier of dusk, and see whether it were menor ghosts who hovered round those dying embers. I had yielded tothese impulses in boat-adventures by night, --for it was a part ofmy instructions to obtain all possible information about the Rebeloutposts, --and fascinating indeed it was to glide along, noiselesslypaddling, with a dusky guide, through the endless intricacies of thoseSouthern marshes, scaring the reed-birds, which wailed and fled awayinto the darkness, and penetrating several miles into the ulterior, between hostile fires, where discovery might be death. Yet there weredrawbacks as to these enterprises, since it is not easy for a boat tocross still water, even on the darkest night, without being seenby watchful eyes; and, moreover, the extremes of high and low tidetransform so completely the whole condition of those rivers that itneeds very nice calculation to do one's work at precisely the righttune. To vary the experiment, I had often thought of trying a personalreconnoissance by swimming, at a certain point, whenever circumstancesshould make it an object. 

The opportunity at last arrived, and I shall never forget the glee withwhich, after several postponements, I finally rode forth, a littlebefore midnight, on a night which seemed made for the purpose. I had, ofcourse, kept my own secret, and was entirely alone. The great Southernfireflies were out, not haunting the low ground merely, like ours, but rising to the loftiest tree-tops with weird illumination, and anonhovering so low that my horse often stepped the higher to avoid them. The dewy Cherokee roses brushed my face, the solemn "Chuckwill's-widow"croaked her incantation, and the rabbits raced phantom-like across theshadowy road. Slowly in the darkness I followed the well-known pathto the spot where our most advanced outposts were stationed, holding acauseway which thrust itself far out across the separating river, --thusfronting a similar causeway on the other side, while a channel ofperhaps three hundred yards, once traversed by a ferry-boat, rolledbetween. At low tide this channel was the whole river, with broad, oozymarshes on each side; at high tide the marshes were submerged, and thestream was a mile wide. This was the point which I had selected. To ascertain the numbers and position of the picket on the oppositecauseway was my first object, as it was a matter on which no two of ourofficers agreed. 

To this point, therefore, I rode, and dismounting, after being dulychallenged by the sentinel at the causeway-head, walked down the longand lonely path. The tide was well up, though still on the flood, asI desired; and each visible tuft of marsh-grass might, but for itsmotionlessness, have been a prowling boat. Dark as the night hadappeared, the water was pale, smooth, and phosphorescent, and I rememberthat the phrase "wan water, " so familiar in the Scottish ballards, struck me just then as peculiarly appropriate, though its real meaningis quite different. A gentle breeze, from which I had hoped for aripple, had utterly died away, and it was a warm, breathless Southernnight. There was no sound but the faint swash of the coming tide, thenoises of the reed-birds in the marshes, and the occasional leap of afish; and it seemed to my overstrained ear as if every footstep ofmy own must be heard for miles. However, I could have no morepostponements, and the thing must be tried now or never. 

Reaching the farther end of the causeway, I found my men couched, likeblack statues, behind the slight earthwork there constructed. I expectedthat my proposed immersion would rather bewilder them, but knew thatthey would say nothing, as usual. As for the lieutenant on that post, hewas a steady, matter-of-fact, perfectly disciplined Englishman, who worea Crimean medal, and never asked a superfluous question in his life. IfI had casually remarked to him, "Mr. Hooper, the General has ordered meon a brief personal reconnoissance to the Planet Jupiter, and I wish youto take care of my watch, lest it should be damaged by the Precession ofthe Equinoxes, " he would have responded with a brief "All right, Sir, "and a quick military gesture, and have put the thing in his pocket. Asit was, I simply gave him the watch, and remarked that I was going totake a swim. 

I do not remember ever to have experienced a greater sense ofexhilaration than when I slipped noiselessly into the placid water, andstruck out into the smooth, eddying current for the opposite shore. Thenight was so still and lovely, my black statues looked so dream-like attheir posts behind the low earthwork, the opposite arm of the causewaystretched so invitingly from the Rebel main, the horizon glimmered solow around me, --for it always appears lower to a swimmer than even toan oarsman, --that I seemed floating in some concave globe, some magiccrystal, of which I was the enchanted centre. With each little ripple ofmy steady progress all things hovered and changed; the stars danced andnodded above; where the stars ended the great Southern firefliesbegan; and closer than the fireflies, there clung round me a halo ofphosphorescent sparkles from the soft salt water. 

Had I told any one of my purpose, I should have had warnings andremonstrances enough. The few negroes who did not believe in alligatorsbelieved in sharks; the sceptics as to sharks were orthodox in respectto alligators; while those who rejected both had private prejudicesas to snapping-turtles. The surgeon would have threatened intermittentfever, the first assistant rheumatism, and the second assistantcongestive chills; non-swimmers would have predicted exhaustion, andswimmers cramp; and all this before coming within bullet-range of anyhospitalities on the other shore. But I knew the folly of most alarmsabout reptiles and fishes; man's imagination peoples the water with manythings which do not belong there, or prefer to keep out of his way, if they do; fevers and congestions were the surgeon's business, and Ialways kept people to their own department; cramp and exhaustion weredangers I could measure, as I had often done; bullets were a moresubstantial danger, and I must take the chance, --if a loon could dive atthe flash, why not I? If I were once ashore, I should have to cope withthe Rebels on their own ground, which they knew better than I; but thewater was my ground, where I, too, had been at home from boyhood. 

I swam as swiftly and softly as I could, although it seemed as if waternever had been so still before. It appeared impossible that anythinguncanny should hide beneath that lovely mirror; and yet when somefloating wisp of reeds suddenly coiled itself around my neck, or someunknown thing, drifting deeper, coldly touched my foot, it caused thatundefinable shudder which every swimmer knows, and which especiallycomes over one by night. Sometimes a slight sip of brackish water wouldenter my lips, --for I naturally tried to swim as low as possible, --andthen would follow a slight gasping and contest against chocking, thatseemed to me a perfect convulsion; for I suppose the tendency to chokeand sneeze is always enhanced by the circumstance that one's life maydepend on keeping still, just as yawning becomes irresistible where toyawn would be social ruin, and just as one is sure to sleep in church, if one sits in a conspicuous pew. At other times, some unguarded motionwould create a splashing which seemed, in the tension of my senses, tobe loud enough to be heard at Richmond, although it really matterednot, since there are fishes in those rivers which make as much noise onspecial occasions as if they were misguided young whales. 

As I drew near the opposite shore, the dark causeway projected more andmore distinctly, to my fancy at least, and I swam more softly still, utterly uncertain as to how far, in the stillness of air and water, myphosphorescent course could be traced by eye or ear. A slight ripplewould have saved me from observation, I was more than ever sure, and Iwould have whistled for a fair wind as eagerly as any sailor, but thatmy breath was worth to me more than anything it was likely to bring. Thewater became smoother and smoother, and nothing broke the dim surfaceexcept a few clumps of rushes and my unfortunate head. The outside ofthis member gradually assumed to its inside a gigantic magnitude; it hadalways annoyed me at the hatter's from a merely animal bigness, with nocommensurate contents to show for it, and now I detested it more thanever. A physical feeling of turgescence and congestion in that region, such as swimmers often feel, probably increased the impression. Ithought with envy of the Aztec children, of the headless horseman ofSleepy Hollow, of Saint Somebody with his head tucked under his arm. Plotinus was less ashamed of his whole body than I of this inconsiderateand stupid appendage. To be sure, I might swim for a certain distanceunder water. But that accomplishment I had reserved for a retreat, forI knew that the longer I stayed down the more surely I should have tosnort like a walrus when I came up again, and to approach an enemy withsuch a demonstration was not to be thought of. 

Suddenly a dog barked. We had certain information that a pack ofhounds was kept at a Rebel station a few miles off, on purpose to huntrunaways, and I had heard from the negroes almost fabulous accounts ofthe instinct of these animals. I knew that, although water baffledtheir scent, they yet could recognize in some manner the approach of anyperson across water as readily as by land; and of the vigilance ofall dogs by night every traveller among Southern plantations has ampledemonstration. I was now so near that I could dimly see the figures ofmen moving to and fro upon the end of the causeway, and could hear thedull knock, when one struck his foot against a piece of limber. 

As my first object was to ascertain whether there were sentinels at thattime at that precise point, I saw that I was approaching the end of myexperiment Could I have once reached the causeway unnoticed, I couldhave lurked in the water beneath its projecting timbers, and perhapsmade my way along the main shore, as I had known fugitive slaves to do, while coming from that side. Or had there been any ripple on the water, to confuse the aroused and watchful eyes, I could have made a circuitand approached the causeway at another point, though I had alreadysatisfied myself that there was only a narrow channel on each sideof it, even at high tide, and not, as on our side, a broad expanse ofwater. Indeed, this knowledge alone was worth all the trouble I hadtaken, and to attempt much more than this, in the face of a curiosityalready roused, would have been a waste of future opportunities. I couldtry again, with the benefit of this new knowledge, on a point where thestatements of the negroes had always been contradictory. 

Resolving, however, to continue the observation a very little longer, since the water felt much warmer than I had expected, and there was nosense of chill or fatigue, I grasped at some wisps of straw or rushesthat floated near, gathering them round my face a little, and thendrifting nearer the wharf in what seemed a sort of eddy was able, without creating further alarm, to make some additional observations onpoints which it is not best now to particularize. Then, turning my backupon the mysterious shore which had thus far lured me, I sank softlybelow the surface, and swam as far as I could under water. 

During this unseen retreat, I heard, of course, all manner of gurglingsand hollow reverberations, and could fancy as many rifle-shots as Ipleased. But on rising to the surface all seemed quiet, and even I didnot create as much noise as I should have expected. I was now at a safedistance, since the enemy were always chary of showing their boats, andalways tried to convince us they had none. What with absorbed attentionfirst, and this submersion afterwards, I had lost all my bearingsbut the stars, having been long out of sight of my original point ofdeparture. However, the difficulties of the return were nothing; makinga slight allowance for the floodtide, which could not yet have turned, Ishould soon regain the place I had left. So I struck out freshly againstthe smooth water, feeling just a little stiffened by the exertion, andwith an occasional chill running up the back of the neck, but withno nips from sharks, no nudges from alligators, and not a symptom offever-and-ague. 

Time I could not, of course, measure, --one never can in a novelposition; but, after a reasonable amount of swimming, I began to look, with a natural interest, for the pier which I had quitted. I noticed, with some solicitude, that the woods along the friendly shore made onecontinuous shadow, and that the line of low bushes on the long causewaycould scarcely be relieved against them, yet I knew where they oughtto be, and the more doubtful I felt about it, the more I put down mydoubts, as if they were unreasonable children. One can scarcely conceiveof the alteration made in familiar objects by bringing the eye as lowas the horizon, especially by night; to distinguish foreshortening isimpossible, and every low near object is equivalent to one higher andmore remote. Still I had the stars; and soon my eye, more practised, wasenabled to select one precise line of bushes as that which marked thecauseway, and for which I must direct my course. 

As I swam steadily, but with some sense of fatigue, towards thisphantom-line, I found it difficult to keep my faith steady and myprogress true; everything appeared to shift and waver, in the uncertainlight. The distant trees seemed not trees, but bushes, and the bushesseemed not exactly bushes, but might, after all, be distant trees. CouldI be so confident that, out of all that low stretch of shore, I couldselect the one precise point where the friendly causeway stretchedits long arm to receive me from the water? How easily (some tempterwhispered at my ear) might one swerve a little, on either side, and becompelled to flounder over half a mile of oozy marsh on an ebbing tide, before reaching our own shore and that hospitable volley of bullets withwhich it would probably greet me! Had I not already (thus the temptercontinued) been swimming rather unaccountably far, supposing me on astraight track for that inviting spot where my sentinels and my draperywere awaiting my return?

Suddenly I felt a sensation as of fine ribbons drawn softly across myperson, and I found myself among some rushes. But what business hadrushes there, or I among them? I knew that there was not a solitary spotof shoal in the deep channel where I supposed myself swimming, and itwas plain in an instant that I had somehow missed my course, and mustbe getting among the marshes. I felt confident, to be sure, that I couldnot have widely erred, but was guiding my course for the proper side oftie river. But whether I had drifted above or below the causeway I hadnot the slightest clew to tell. 

I pushed steadily forward, with some increasing sense of lassitude, passing one marshy islet after another, all seeming strangely out ofplace, and sometimes just reaching with my foot a soft tremulous shoalwhich gave scarce the shadow of a support, though even that shadowrested my feet. At one of these moments of stillness it suddenlyoccurred to my perception (what nothing but this slight contact couldhave assured me, in the darkness) that I was in a powerful current, and that this current set _the wrong way_. Instantly a flood of newintelligence came. Either I had unconsciously turned and was rapidlynearing the Rebel shore, --a suspicion which a glance at the starscorrected, --or else it was the tide itself which had turned, and whichwas sweeping me down the river with all its force, and was also suckingaway at every moment the narrowing water from that treacherous expanseof mud out of whose horrible miry embrace I had lately helped to rescuea shipwrecked crew. 

Either alternative was rather formidable. I can distinctly remember thatfor about one half-minute the whole vast universe appeared to swimin the same watery uncertainty in which I floated. I began to doubteverything, to distrust the stars, the line of low bushes for whichI was wearily striving, the very land on which they grew, if suchvisionary things could be rooted anywhere. Doubts trembled in my mindlike the weltering water, and that awful sensation of having one's feetunsupported, which benumbs the spent swimmer's heart, seemed to clutchat mine, though not yet to enter it. I was more absorbed in thatsingular sensation of nightmare, such as one may feel equally when lostby land or by water, as if one's own position were all right, but theplace looked for had somehow been preternaturally abolished out of theuniverse. At best, might not a man in the water lose all his power ofdirection, and so move in an endless circle until he sank exhausted? Itrequired a deliberate and conscious effort to keep my brain quite cool. I have not the reputation of being of an excitable temperament, but thecontrary; yet I could at that moment see my way to a condition in whichone might become insane in an instant. It was as if a fissure openedsomewhere, and I saw my way into a mad-house; then it closed, andeverything went on as before. Once in my life I had obtained a slightglimpse of the same sensation, and then, too, strangely enough, whileswimming, --in the mightiest ocean-surge into which I had ever daredplunge my mortal body. Keats hints at the same sudden emotion, in a wildpoem written among the Scottish mountains. It was not the distinctivesensation which drowning men are said to have, that spasmodic passing inreview of one's whole personal history. I had no well-defined anxiety, felt no fear, was moved to no prayer, did not give a thought to homeor friends; only it swept over me, as with a sudden tempest, that, if Imeant to get back to my own camp, I must keep my wits about me. I mustnot dwell on any other alternative, any more than a boy who climbs aprecipice must look down. Imagination had no business here. That waymadness lay. There was a shore somewhere before me, and I must get toit, by the ordinary means, before the ebb laid bare the flats, or sweptme below the lower bends of the stream. That was all. 

Suddenly a light gleamed for an instant before me, as if from a housein a grove of great trees upon a bank; and I knew that it came from thewindow of a ruined plantation-building, where our most advanced outpostshad their headquarters. The flash revealed to me every point of thesituation. I saw at once where I was, and how I got there: that the tidehad turned while I was swimming, and with a much briefer interval ofslack-water than I had been led to suppose, --that I had been swept agood way down stream, and was far beyond all possibility of regainingthe point I had left. 

Could I, however, retain my strength to swim one or two hundred yardsfarther, of which I had no doubt, --and if the water did not ebb toorapidly, of which I had more fear, --then I was quite safe. Every stroketook me more and more out of the power of the current, and there mighteven be an eddy to aid me. I could not afford to be carried down muchfarther, for there the channel made a sweep toward the wrong side of theriver; but there was now no reason why I should not reach land. I coulddismiss all fear, indeed, except that of being fired upon by our ownsentinels, many of whom were then new recruits, and with the usualdisposition to shoot first and investigate afterwards. 

I found myself swimming in shallow and shallower water, and the flatsseemed almost bare when I neared the shore, where the great gnarledbranches of the liveoaks hung far over the muddy bank. Floating on myback for noiselessness, I paddled rapidly in with my hands, expectingmomentarily to hear the challenge of the picket, and the ominous clickso likely to follow. I knew that some one should be pacing to and fro, along that beat, but could not tell at what point he might be at thatprecise moment. Besides, there was a faint possibility that some chattycorporal might have carried the news of my bath thus far along theline, and they might be partially prepared for this unexpected visitor. Suddenly, like another flash, came the quick, quaint challenge, --

"Halt! Who's go dar?"

"F-f-friend with the c-c-countersign, " retorted I, with chilly, butconciliatory energy, rising at full length out of the shallow water, toshow myself a man and a brother. 

"Ac-vance, friend, and give de countersign, " responded the literalsoldier, who at such a tune would have accosted: a spirit of light orgoblin damned with no other formula. 

I advanced and gave it, he recognized my voice at once. | And then andthere, as I stood, a dripping ghost, beneath the f trees before him, theunconscionable fellow, wishing to exhaust upon me the utmost resourcesof military hospitality, deliberately presented arms!

Now a soldier on picket, or at night, usually presents arms to nobody;but a sentinel on camp-guard by day is expected to perform that ceremonyto anything in human shape that has two rows of buttons. Here was ahuman shape, but so utterly buttonless that it exhibited not even arag to which a button could by any earthly possibility be appended, button-less even potentially; and my blameless Ethiopian presented armsto even this. Where, then, are the theories of Carlyle, the axioms of"Sartor Resartus, " the inability of humanity to conceive "a nakedDuke of Windlestraw addressing a naked House of Lords"? Cautioning myadherent, however, as to the proprieties suitable for such occasionsthenceforward, I left him watching the river with renewed vigilance, andawaiting the next merman who should report himself. 

Finding my way to the building, I hunted up a sergeant and a blanket, got a fire kindled in the dismantled chimney, and sat before it in mysingle garment, like a moist but undismayed Choctaw, until horse andclothing could be brought round from the causeway. It seemed strangethat the morning had not yet dawned, after the uncounted periods thatmust have elapsed; but when the wardrobe arrived I looked at my watchand found that my night in the water had lasted precisely one hour. 

Galloping home, I turned in with alacrity, and without a drop ofwhiskey, and waked a few hours after in excellent condition. The rapidchanges of which that Department has seen so many--and, perhaps, to solittle purpose--soon transferred us to a different scene. I have been onother scouts since then, and by various processes, but never with a zestso novel as was afforded by that night's experience. The thing soon gotwind in the regiment, and led to only one ill consequence, so far as Iknow. It rather suppressed a way I had of lecturing the officers on theimportance of reducing their personal baggage to a minimum. They got atrick of congratulating me, very respectfully, on the thoroughness withwhich I had once conformed my practice to my precepts. 

Chapter 7. Up the Edisto

In reading military history, one finds the main interest to lie, undoubtedly, in the great campaigns, where a man, a regiment, a brigade, is but a pawn in the game. But there is a charm also in the more freeand adventurous life of partisan warfare, where, if the total sphere behumbler, yet the individual has more relative importance, and the senseof action is more personal and keen. This is the reason given by theeccentric Revolutionary biographer, Weems, for writing the Life ofWashington first, and then that of Marion. And there were, certainly, hi the early adventures of the colored troops in the Department of theSouth, some of the same elements of picturesqueness that belonged toMarion's band, on the same soil, with the added feature that the blackswere fighting for their personal liberties, of which Marion had helpedto deprive them. 

It is stated by Major-General Gillmore, in his "Siege of Charleston, " asone of the three points in his preliminary strategy, that an expeditionwas sent up the Edisto River to destroy a bridge on the Charleston andSavannah Railway. As one of the early raids of the colored troops, thisexpedition may deserve narration, though it was, in a strategic pointof view, a disappointment. It has already been told, briefly and on thewhole with truth, by Greeley and others, but I will venture on a morecomplete account. 

The project dated back earlier than General Gillmore's siege, and hadoriginally no connection with that movement. It had been formed byCaptain Trowbridge and myself in camp, and was based on facts learnedfrom the men. General Saxton and Colonel W. W. H. Davis, the successivepost-commanders, had both favored it. It had been also approved byGeneral Hunter, before his sudden removal, though he regarded the bridgeas a secondary affair, because there was another railway communicationbetween the two cities. But as my main object was to obtain permissionto go, I tried to make the most of all results which might follow, whileit was very clear that the raid would harass and confuse the enemy, andbe the means of bringing away many of the slaves. General Hunter had, therefore, accepted the project mainly as a stroke for freedom and blackrecruits; and General Gillmore, because anything that looked towardaction found favor in his eyes, and because it would be convenient tohim at that time to effect a diversion, if nothing more. 

It must be remembered that, after the first capture of Port Royal, theoutlying plantations along the whole Southern coast were abandoned, andthe slaves withdrawn into the interior. It was necessary to ascend someriver for thirty miles in order to reach the black population at all. This ascent could only be made by night, as it was a slow process, andthe smoke of a steamboat could be seen for a great distance. The streamswere usually shallow, winding, and muddy, and the difficulties ofnavigation were such as to require a full moon and a flood tide. It wasreally no easy matter to bring everything to bear, especially as everyprojected raid must be kept a secret so far as possible. However, wewere now somewhat familiar with such undertakings, half military, halfnaval, and the thing to be done on the Edisto was precisely what we hadproved to be practicable on the St. Mary's and the St. John's, --to dropanchor before the enemy's door some morning at daybreak, without hishaving dreamed of our approach. 

Since a raid made by Colonel Montgomery up the Combahee, two monthsbefore, the vigilance of the Rebels had increased. But we hadinformation that upon the South Edisto, or Pon-Pon River, the riceplantations were still being actively worked by a large number ofnegroes, in reliance on obstructions placed at the mouth of that narrowstream, where it joins the main river, some twenty miles from the coast. This point was known to be further protected by a battery of unknownstrength, at Wiltown Bluff, a commanding and defensible situation. Theobstructions consisted of a row of strong wooden piles across the river;but we convinced ourselves that these must now be much decayed, and thatCaptain Trowbridge, an excellent engineer officer, could remove themby the proper apparatus. Our proposition was to man the John Adams, anarmed ferry-boat, which had before done us much service, --and which hasnow reverted to the pursuits of peace, it is said, on the East Bostonline, --to ascend in this to Wiltown Bluff, silence the battery, andclear a passage through the obstructions. Leaving the John Adams toprotect this point, we could then ascend the smaller stream with twolight-draft boats, and perhaps burn the bridge, which was ten mileshigher, before the enemy could bring sufficient force to make ourposition at Wiltown Bluff untenable. 

The expedition was organized essentially upon this plan. The smallerboats were the Enoch Dean, --a river steamboat, which carried a ten-poundParrott gun, and a small howitzer, --and a little mosquito of a tug, theGovernor Milton, upon which, with the greatest difficulty, we foundroom for two twelve-pound Armstrong guns, with their gunners, forminga section of the First Connecticut Battery, under Lieutenant Clinton, aided by a squad from my own regiment, under Captain James. The JohnAdams carried, I if I remember rightly, two Parrott guns (of twenty andten | pounds calibre) and a howitzer or two. The whole force of men didnot exceed two hundred and fifty. 

We left Beaufort, S. C. , on the afternoon of July 9th, 1863. In formernarrations I have sufficiently described the charm of a moonlight ascentinto a hostile country, upon an unknown stream, the dark and silentbanks, the rippling water, the wail of the reed-birds, the anxiouswatch, the breathless listening, the veiled lights, the whisperedorders. To this was now to be added the vexation of an insufficientpilotage, for our negro guide knew only the upper river, and, as itfinally proved, not even that, while, to take us over the bar whichobstructed the main stream, we must borrow a pilot from Captain Dutch, whose gunboat blockaded that point. This active naval officer, however, whose boat expeditions had penetrated all the lower branches of thoserivers, could supply our want, and we borrowed from him not only apilot, but a surgeon, to replace our own, who had been prevented by anaccident from coming with us. Thus accompanied, we steamed over the barin safety, had a peaceful ascent, passed the island of Jehossee, --thefine estate of Governor Aiken, then left undisturbed by both sides, --andfired our first shell into the camp at Wiltown Bluff at four o'clock inthe morning. 

The battery--whether fixed or movable we knew not--met us with apromptness that proved very shortlived. After three shots it was silent, but we could not tell why. The bluff was wooded, and we could see butlittle. The only course was to land, under cover of the guns. Asthe firing ceased and the smoke cleared away, I looked across therice-fields which lay beneath the bluff. The first sunbeams glowed upontheir emerald levels, and on the blossoming hedges along the rectangulardikes. What were those black dots which everywhere appeared? Those moistmeadows had become alive with human heads, and along each narrowpath came a straggling file of men and women, all on a run for theriver-side. I went ashore with a boat-load of troops at once. Thelanding was difficult and marshy. The astonished negroes tugged us upthe bank, and gazed on us as if we had been Cortez and Columbus. Theykept arriving by land much faster than we could come by water; everymoment increased the crowd, the jostling, the mutual clinging, on thatmiry foothold. What a scene it was! With the wild faces, eager figures, strange garments, it seemed, as one of the poor things reverentlysuggested, "like notin' but de judgment day. " Presently they began tocome from the houses also, with their little bundles on their heads;then with larger bundles. Old women, trotting on the narrow paths, wouldkneel to pray a little prayer, still balancing the bundle; and thenwould suddenly spring up, urged by the accumulating procession behind, and would move on till irresistibly compelled by thankfulness to dipdown for another invocation. 

Reaching us, every human being must grasp our hands, amid exclamationsof "Bress you, mas'r, " and "Bress de Lord, " at the rate of four of thelatter ascriptions to one of the former. 

Women brought children on their shoulders; small black boys learned ontheir back little brothers equally inky, and, gravely depositing them, shook hands. Never had I seen human beings so clad, or rather so unclad, in such amazing squalid-ness and destitution of garments. I recall onesmall urchin without a rag of clothing save the basque waist of a lady'sdress, bristling with whalebones, and worn wrong side before, beneathwhich his smooth ebony legs emerged like those of an ostrich from itsplumage. How weak is imagination, how cold is memory, that I ever cease, for a day of my life, to see before me the picture of that astoundingscene!

Yet at the time we were perforce a little impatient of all this piety, protestation, and hand-pressing; for the vital thing was to ascertainwhat force had been stationed at the bluff, and whether it was yetwithdrawn. The slaves, on the other hand, were too much absorbed intheir prospective freedom to aid us in taking any further stepsto secure it. Captain Trowbridge, who had by this time landed at adifferent point, got quite into despair over the seeming deafness of thepeople to all questions. "How many soldiers are there on the bluff?" heasked of the first-comer. 

"Mas'r, " said the man, stuttering terribly, "I c-c-c--"

"Tell me how many soldiers there are!" roared Trowbridge, in hismighty voice, and all but shaking the poor old thing, in his thirst forinformation. 

"O mas'r, " recommenced in terror the incapacitated wit-ness, "Ic-c-carpenter!" holding up eagerly a little stump of a hatchet, hissole treasure, as if his profession ought to excuse from all militaryopinions. 

I wish that it were possible to present all this scene from the point ofview of the slaves themselves. It can be most nearly done, perhaps, byquoting the description given of a similar scene on the Combahee River, by a very aged man, who had been brought down on the previous raid, already mentioned. I wrote it down in tent, long after, while the oldman recited the tale, with much gesticulation, at the door; and it is byfar the best glimpse I have ever had, through a negro's eyes, at thesewonderful birthdays of freedom. 

"De people was all a hoein', mas'r, " said the old man. "Dey was a hoein'in the rice-field, when de gunboats come. Den ebry man drap dem hoe, and leff de rice. De mas'r he stand and call, 'Run to de wood for hide!Yankee come, sell you to Cuba! run for hide!' Ebry man he run, and, myGod! run all toder way!

"Mas'r stand in de wood, peep, peep, faid for truss [afraid to trust]. He say, 'Run to de wood!' and ebry man run by him, straight to de boat. 

"De brack sojer so presumptious, dey come right ashore, hold up derehead. Fus' ting I know, dere was a barn, ten tousand bushel rough rice, all in a blaze, den mas'r's great house, all cracklin' up de roof. Didn't I keer for see 'em blaze? Lor, mas'r, didn't care notin' at all, _was gwine to de boat_. "

Dore's Don Quixote could not surpass the sublime absorption in which thegaunt old man, with arm uplifted, described this stage of affairs, tillhe ended in a shrewd chuckle, worthy of Sancho Panza. Then he resumed. 

"De brack sojers so presumptious!" This he repeated three times, slowlyshaking his head in an ecstasy of admiration. It flashed upon me that theapparition of a black soldier must amaze those still in bondage, muchas a butterfly just from the chrysalis might astound his fellow-grubs. I inwardly vowed that my soldiers, at least, should be as "presumptious"as I could make them. Then he went on. 

"Ole woman and I go down to de boat; den dey say behind us, 'Rebelscomin'l Rebels comin'!' Ole woman say, 'Come ahead, come plenty ahead!'I hab notin' on but my shirt and pantaloon; ole woman one single frockhe hab on, and one handkerchief on he head; I leff all-two my blanketand run for de Rebel come, and den dey didn't come, didn't truss forcome. 

"Ise eighty-eight year old, mas'r. My ole Mas'r Lowndes keep all de agesin a big book, and when we come to age ob sense we mark em down ebryyear, so I know. Too ole for come? Mas'r joking. Neber too ole for leavede land o' bondage. I old, but great good for chil'en, gib tousand tankebry day. Young people can go through, _force_ [forcibly], mas'r, but deole folk mus' go slow. "

Such emotions as these, no doubt, were inspired by our arrival, but wecould only hear their hasty utterance in passing; our duty being, with the small force already landed, to take possession of the bluff. Ascending, with proper precautions, the wooded hill, we soon foundourselves in the deserted camp of a light battery, amid scatteredequipments and suggestions of a very unattractive breakfast. As soon aspossible, skirmishers were thrown out through the woods to the fartheredge of the bluff, while a party searched the houses, finding the usuallarge supply of furniture and pictures, --brought up for safety frombelow, --but no soldiers. Captain Trowbridge then got the John Adamsbeside the row of piles, and went to work for their removal. 

Again I had the exciting sensation of being within the hostilelines, --the eager explorations, the doubts, the watchfulness, thelistening for every sound of coming hoofs. Presently a horse's treadwas heard in earnest, but it was a squad of our own men bringing intwo captured cavalry soldiers. One of these, a sturdy fellow, submittedquietly to his lot, only begging that, whenever we should evacuate thebluff, a note should be left behind stating that he was a prisoner. Theother, a very young man, and a member of the "Rebel Troop, " a sort ofCadet corps among the Charleston youths, came to me in great wrath, complaining that the corporal of our squad had kicked him after hehad surrendered. His air of offended pride was very rueful, and it didindeed seem a pathetic reversal of fortunes for the two races. To besure, the youth was a scion of one of the foremost families of SouthCarolina, and when I considered the wrongs which the black race hadencountered from those of his blood, first and last, it seemed as if themost scrupulous Recording Angel might tolerate one final kick to squarethe account. But I reproved the corporal, who respectfully disclaimedthe charge, and said the kick was an incident of the scuffle. Itcertainly was not their habit to show such poor malice; they thought toowell of themselves. 

His demeanor seemed less lofty, but rather piteous, when he implored menot to put him on board any vessel which was to ascend the upper stream, and hinted, by awful implications, the danger of such ascent. This meanttorpedoes, a peril which we treated, in those days, with rather mistakencontempt. But we found none on the Edisto, and it may be that it wasonly a foolish attempt to alarm us. 

Meanwhile, Trowbridge was toiling away at the row of piles, which provedeasier to draw out than to saw asunder, either work being hard enough. It took far longer than we had hoped, and we saw noon approach and thetide rapidly fall, taking with it, inch by inch, our hopes of effectinga surprise at the bridge. During this time, and indeed all day, thedetachments on shore, under Captains Whitney and Sampson, were havingoccasional skirmishes with the enemy, while the colored people wereswarming to the shore, or running to and fro like ants, with the poortreasures of their houses. Our busy Quartermaster, Mr. Bingham--who diedafterwards from the overwork of that sultry day--was transportingthe refugees on board the steamer, or hunting up bales of cotton, ordirecting the burning of rice-houses, in accordance with our orders. No dwelling-houses were destroyed or plundered by our men, --Sherman's"bummers" not having yet arrived, --though I asked no questions as towhat the plantation negroes might bring in their great bundles. Onepiece of property, I must admit, seemed a lawful capture, --a UnitedStates dress-sword, of the old pattern, which had belonged to the Rebelgeneral who afterwards gave the order to bury Colonel Shaw "with hisniggers. " That I have retained, not without some satisfaction, to thisday. 

A passage having been cleared at last, and the tide having turned bynoon, we lost no time in attempting the ascent, leaving the bluff tobe held by the John Adams, and by the small force on shore. We werescarcely above the obstructions, however, when the little tug wentaground, and the Enoch Dean, ascending a mile farther, had an encounterwith a battery on the right, --perhaps our old enemy, --and drove it back. Soon after, she also ran aground, a misfortune of which our opponentstrangely took no advantage; and, on getting off, I thought it best todrop down to the bluff again, as the tide was still hopelessly low. Nonecan tell, save those who have tried them, the vexations of those muddySouthern streams, navigable only during a few hours of flood-tide. 

After waiting an hour, the two small vessels again tried the ascent. Theenemy on the right had disappeared; but we could now see, far off on ourleft, another light battery moving parallel with the river, apparentlyto meet us at some upper bend. But for the present we were safe, withthe low rice-fields on each side of us; and the scene was so peaceful, it seemed as if all danger were done. For the first time, we saw inSouth Carolina blossoming river-banks and low emerald meadows, thatseemed like New England. Everywhere there were the same rectangularfields, smooth canals, and bushy dikes. A few negroes stole out to usin dugouts, and breathlessly told us how others had been hurried awayby the overseers. We glided safely on, mile after mile. The day wasunutterably hot, but all else seemed propitious. The men had theircombustibles all ready to fire the bridge, and our hopes were unbounded. 

But by degrees the channel grew more tortuous and difficult, and whilethe little Milton glided smoothly over everything, the Enoch Dean, myown boat, repeatedly grounded. On every occasion of especial need, too, something went wrong in her machinery, --her engine being constructed onsome wholly new patent, of which, I should hope, this trial would proveentirely sufficient. The black pilot, who was not a soldier, grew moreand more bewildered, and declared that it was the channel, not hisbrain, which had gone wrong; the captain, a little elderly man, satwringing his hands in the pilot-box; and the engineer appeared to bemingling his groans with those of the diseased engine. Meanwhile I, in equal ignorance of machinery and channel, had to give orders onlyjustified by minute acquaintance with both. So I navigated on generalprinciples, until they grounded us on a mud-bank, just below a woodedpoint, and some two miles from the bridge of our destination. It waswith a pang that I waved to Major Strong, who was on the other side ofthe channel in a tug, not to risk approaching us, but to steam on andfinish the work, if he could. 

Short was his triumph. Gliding round the point, he found himselfinstantly engaged with a light battery of four or six guns, doubtlessthe same we had seen in the distance. The Milton was within two hundredand fifty yards. The Connecticut men fought then: guns well, aided bythe blacks, and it was exasperating for us to hear the shots, while wecould see nothing and do nothing. The scanty ammunition of our bow gunwas exhausted, and the gun in the stern was useless, from the positionin which we lay. In vain we moved the men from side to side, rocking thevessel, to dislodge it. The heat was terrific that August afternoon;I remember I found myself constantly changing places, on the scorcheddeck, to keep my feet from being blistered. At last the officer incharge of the gun, a hardy lumberman from Maine, got the stern of thevessel so far round that he obtained the range of the battery throughthe cabin windows, "but it would be necessary, " he cooly added, onreporting to me this fact, "to shoot away the corner of the cabin. " Iknew that this apartment was newly painted and gilded, and the idol ofthe poor captain's heart; but it was plain that even the thought of hisown upholstery could not make the poor soul more wretched than he was. So I bade Captain Dolly blaze away, and thus we took our hand in thelittle game, though at a sacrifice. 

It was of no use. Down drifted out little consort round the point, herengine disabled and her engineer killed, as we afterwards found, thoughthen we could only look and wonder. Still pluckily firing, she floatedby upon the tide, which had now just turned; and when, with a lastdesperate effort, we got off, our engine had one of its impracticablefits, and we could only follow her. The day was waning, and all itsrange of possibility had lain within the limits of that one tide. 

All our previous expeditions had been so successful it now seemed hardto turn back; the river-banks and rice-fields, so beautiful before, seemed only a vexation now. But the swift current bore us on, and afterour Parthian shots had died away, a new discharge of artillery openedupon us, from our first antagonist of the morning, which still kept theother side of the stream. It had taken up a strong position on anotherbluff, almost out of range of the John Adams, but within easy range ofus. The sharpest contest of the day was before us. Happily the engineand engineer were now behaving well, and we were steering in a channelalready traversed, and of which the dangerous points were known. But wehad a long, straight reach of river before us, heading directly towardthe battery, which, having once got our range, had only to keep it, while we could do nothing in return. The Rebels certainly served then:guns well. For the first time I discovered that there were certaincompensating advantages in a slightly built craft, as compared with onemore substantial; the missiles never lodged in the vessel, but crashedthrough some thin partition as if it were paper, to explode beyond us, or fall harmless in the water. Splintering, the chief source of woundsand death in wooden ships, was thus entirely avoided; the danger wasthat our machinery might be disabled, or that shots might strike belowthe water-line and sink us. 

This, however, did not happen. Fifteen projectiles, as we afterwardscomputed, passed through the vessel or cut the rigging. Yet fewcasualties occurred, and those instantly fatal. As my orderly stoodleaning on a comrade's shoulder, the head of the latter was shot off. At last I myself felt a sudden blow in the side, as if from someprize-fighter, doubling me up for a moment, while I sank upon a seat. Itproved afterwards to have been produced by the grazing of a ball, which, without tearing a garment, had yet made a large part of my side blackand blue, leaving a sensation of paralysis which made it difficult tostand. Supporting myself on Captain Rogers, I tried to comprehend whathad happened, and I remember being impressed by an odd feeling that Ihad now got my share, and should henceforth be a great deal saferthan any of the rest. I am told that this often follows one's firstexperience of a wound. 

But this immediate contest, sharp as it was, proved brief; a turn inthe river enabled us to use our stern gun, and we soon glided intothe comparative shelter of Wiltown Bluff. There, however, we were toencounter the danger of shipwreck, superadded to that of fight. Whenthe passage through the piles was first cleared, it had been marked bystakes, lest the rising tide should cover the remaining piles, andmake it difficult to run the passage. But when we again reached it, thestakes had somehow been knocked away, the piles were just covered by theswift current, and the little tug-boat was aground upon them. She cameoff easily, however, with our aid, and, when we in turn essayed thepassage, we grounded also, but more firmly. We getting off at last, and making the passage, the tug again became lodged, when nearly pastdanger, and all our efforts proved powerless to pull her through. Itherefore dropped down below, and sent the John Adams to her aid, whileI superintended the final recall of the pickets, and the embarkation ofthe remaining refugees. 

While thus engaged, I felt little solicitude about the boats above. Itwas certain that the John Adams could safely go close to the piles onthe lower side, that she was very strong, and that the other was verylight. Still, it was natural to cast some anxious glances up the river, and it was with surprise that I presently saw a canoe descending, whichcontained Major Strong. Coming on board, he told me with some excitementthat the tug could not possibly be got off, and he wished for orders. 

It was no time to consider whether it was not his place to have givenorders, instead of going half a mile to seek them. I was by this time sofar exhausted that everything seemed to pass by me as by one in a dream;but I got into a boat, pushed up stream, met presently the John Adamsreturning, and was informed by the officer in charge of the Connecticutbattery that he had abandoned the tug, and--worse news yet--that hisguns had been thrown overboard. It seemed to me then, and has alwaysseemed, that this sacrifice was utterly needless, because, although thecaptain of the John Adams had refused to risk his vessel by going nearenough to receive the guns, he should have been compelled to do so. Though the thing was done without my knowledge, and beyond my reach, yet, as commander of the expedition, I was technically responsible. It was hard to blame a lieutenant when his senior had shrunk from adecision, and left him alone; nor was it easy to blame Major Strong, whom I knew to be a man of personal courage though without much decisionof character. He was subsequently tried by court-martial and acquitted, after which he resigned, and was lost at sea on his way home. 

The tug, being thus abandoned, must of course be burned to preventher falling into the enemy's hands. Major Strong went with promptfearlessness to do this, at my order; after which he remained on theEnoch Dean, and I went on board the John Adams, being compelled tosuccumb at last, and transfer all remaining responsibility to CaptainTrowbridge. Exhausted as I was, I could still observe, in a vague way, the scene around me. Every available corner of the boat seemed likesome vast auction-room of second-hand goods. Great piles of bedding andbundles lay on every side, with black heads emerging and black formsreclining in every stage of squalidness. Some seemed ill, or wounded, or asleep, others were chattering eagerly among themselves, singing, praying, or soliloquizing on joys to come. "Bress de Lord, " I heard onewoman say, "I spec' I got salt victual now, --notin' but fresh victualdese six months, but Ise get salt victual now, "--thus reversing, underpressure of the salt-embargo, the usual anticipations of voyagers. 

Trowbridge told me, long after, that, on seeking a fan for my benefit, he could find but one on board. That was in the hands of a fat old"aunty, " who had just embarked, and sat on an enormous bundle of hergoods, in everybody's way, fanning herself vehemently, and ejaculating, as her gasping breath would permit, "Oh! Do, Jesus! Oh! Do, Jesus!" whenthe captain abruptly disarmed her of the fan, and left her continuingher pious exercises. 

Thus we glided down the river in the waning light. Once more weencountered a battery, making five in all; I could hear the guns of theassailants, and could not distinguish the explosion of their shellsfrom the answering throb of our own guns. The kind Quartermaster keptbringing me news of what occurred, like Rebecca in Front-de-Boeuf scastle, but discreetly withholding any actual casualties. Then all fadedinto safety and sleep; and we reached Beaufort in the morning, afterthirty-six hours of absence. A kind friend, who acted in South Carolinaa nobler part amid tragedies than in any of her early stage triumphs, met us with an ambulance at the wharf, and the prisoners, the wounded, and the dead were duly attended. 

The reader will not care for any personal record of convalescence;though, among the general military laudations of whiskey, it is worthwhile to say that one life was saved, in the opinion of my surgeons, by an habitual abstinence from it, leaving no food for peritonealinflammation to feed upon. The able-bodied men who had joined us were, sent to aid General Gillmore in the trenches, while their familieswere established in huts and tents on St. Helena Island. A year after, greatly to the delight of the regiment, in taking possession of abattery which they had helped to capture on James Island, they found intheir hands the selfsame guns which they had seen thrown overboard fromthe Governor Milton. They then felt that their account with the enemywas squared, and could proceed to further operations. 

Before the war, how great a thing seemed the rescue of even one man fromslavery; and since the war has emancipated all, how little seems theliberation of two hundred! But no one then knew how the contest mightend; and when I think of that morning sunlight, those emerald fields, those thronging numbers, the old women with their prayers, and thelittle boys with them: living burdens, I know that the day was worth allit cost, and more. 

Chapter 8. The Baby of the Regiment

We were in our winter camp on Port Royal Island. It was a lovelyNovember morning, soft and spring-like; the mocking-birds were singing, and the cotton-fields still white with fleecy pods. Morning drill wasover, the men were cleaning their guns and singing very happily; theofficers were in their tents, reading still more happily their lettersjust arrived from home. Suddenly I heard a knock at my tent-door, andthe latch clicked. It was the only latch in camp, and I was very proudof it, and the officers always clicked it as loudly as possible, inorder to gratify my feelings. The door opened, and the Quartermasterthrust in the most beaming face I ever saw. 

"Colonel, " said he, "there are great news for the regiment. My wife andbaby are coming by the next steamer!"

"Baby!" said I, in amazement. "Q. M. , you are beside yourself. " (Wealways called the Quartermaster Q. M. For shortness. ) "There was a passsent to your wife, but nothing was ever said about a baby. Baby indeed!"

"But the baby was included in the pass, " replied the triumphantfather-of-a-family. "You don't suppose my wife would come down herewithout her baby! Besides, the pass itself permits her to bringnecessary baggage, and is not a baby six months old necessary baggage?"

"But, my dear fellow, " said I, rather anxiously, "how can you makethe little thing comfortable in a tent, amidst these rigors of a SouthCarolina winter, when it is uncomfortably hot for drill at noon, and iceforms by your bedside at night?"

"Trust me for that, " said the delighted papa, and went off whistling. Icould hear him telling the same news to three others, at least, beforehe got to his own tent. 

That day the preparations began, and soon his abode was a wonder ofcomfort. There were posts and rafters, and a raised floor, and a greatchimney, and a door with hinges, --every luxury except a latch, and thathe could not have, for mine was the last that could be purchased. One ofthe regimental carpenters was employed to make a cradle, and another tomake a bedstead high enough for the cradle to go under. Then there mustbe a bit of red carpet beside the bedstead, and thus the progress ofsplendor went on. The wife of one of the colored sergeants was engagedto act as nursery-maid. She was a very respectable young woman; theonly objection to her being that she smoked a pipe. But we thought thatperhaps Baby might not dislike tobacco; and if she did, she would haveexcellent opportunities to break the pipe in pieces. 

In due time the steamer arrived, and Baby and her mother were among thepassengers. The little recruit was soon settled in her new cradle, andslept in it as if she had never known any other. The sergeant's wifesoon had her on exhibition through the neighborhood, and from that timeforward she was quite a queen among us. She had sweet blue eyes andpretty brown hair, with round, dimpled cheeks, and that perfect dignitywhich is so beautiful in a baby. She hardly ever cried, and was notat all timid. She would go to anybody, and yet did not encourage anyromping from any but the most intimate friends. She always wore a warmlong-sleeved scarlet cloak with a hood, and in this costume wascarried or "toted, " as the soldiers said, all about the camp. At"guard-mounting" in the morning, when the men who are to go on guardduty for the day are drawn up to be inspected, Baby was always there, tohelp inspect them. She did not say much, but she eyed them veryclosely, and seemed fully to appreciate their bright buttons. Then theOfficer-of-the-Day, who appears at guard-mounting with his sword andsash, and comes afterwards to the Colonel's tent for orders, would comeand speak to Baby on his way, and receive her orders first. When thetime came for drill she was usually present to watch the troops; andwhen the drum beat for dinner she liked to see the long row of men ineach company march up to the cookhouse, in single file, each with tincup and plate. 

During the day, in pleasant weather, she might be seen in her nurse'sarms, about the company streets, the centre of an admiring circle, herscarlet costume looking very pretty amidst the shining black cheeksand neat blue uniforms of the soldiers. At "dress-parade, " just beforesunset, she was always an attendant. As I stood before the regiment, Icould see the little spot of red out of the corner of my eye, at oneend of the long line of men; and I looked with so much interest for hersmall person, that, instead of saying at the proper time, "Attention, Battalion! Shoulder arms!"--it is a wonder that I did not say, "Shoulderbabies!"

Our little lady was very impartial, and distributed her kind looks toeverybody. She had not the slightest prejudice against color, and didnot care in the least whether her particular friends were black orwhite. Her especial favorites, I think, were the drummer-boys, who werenot my favorites by any means, for they were a roguish set of scamps, and gave more trouble than all the grown men in the regiment. I thinkAnnie liked them because they were small, and made a noise, and had redcaps like her hood, and red facings on their jackets, and also becausethey occasionally stood on their heads for her amusement. Afterdress-parade the whole drum-corps would march to the great flag-staff, and wait till just sunset-time, when they would beat "the retreat, "and then the flag would be hauled down, --a great festival for Annie. Sometimes the Sergeant-Major would wrap her in the great folds of theflag, after it was taken down, and she would peep out very prettily fromamidst the stars and stripes, like a new-born Goddess of Liberty. 

About once a month, some inspecting officer was sent to the camp bythe general in command, to see to the condition of everything in theregiment, from bayonets to buttons. It was usually a long and tiresomeprocess, and, when everything else was done, I used to tell the officerthat I had one thing more for him to inspect, which was peculiar to ourregiment. Then I would send for Baby to be exhibited, and I never saw aninspecting officer, old or young, who did not look pleased at the suddenappearance of the little, fresh, smiling creature, --a flower in themidst of war. And Annie in her turn would look at them, with the truebaby dignity La her face, --that deep, earnest look which babies oftenhave, and which people think so wonderful when Raphael paints it, although they might often see just the same expression in the faces oftheir own darlings at home. 

Meanwhile Annie seemed to like the camp style of housekeeping very much. Her father's tent was double, and he used the front apartment for hisoffice, and the inner room for parlor and bedroom; while the nurse had aseparate tent and wash-room behind all. I remember that, the first timeI went there in the evening, it was to borrow some writing-paper; andwhile Baby's mother was hunting for it in the front tent, I heard agreat cooing and murmuring in the inner room. I asked if Annie was stillawake, and her mother told me to go in and see. Pushing aside the canvasdoor, I entered. No sign of anybody was to be seen; but a variety ofsoft little happy noises seemed to come from some unseen corner. Mrs. C. Came quietly in, pulled away the counterpane of her own bed, and drewout the rough cradle where lay the little damsel, perfectly happy, andwider awake than anything but a baby possibly can be. She looked asif the seclusion of a dozen family bedsteads would not be enough todiscourage her spirits, and I saw that camp life was likely to suit hervery well. 

A tent can be kept very warm, for it is merely a house with a thinnerwall than usual; and I do not think that Baby felt the cold much morethan if she had been at home that winter. The great trouble is, that atent-chimney, not being built very high, is apt to smoke when the windis in a certain direction; and when that happens it is hardly possibleto stay inside. So we used to build the chimneys of some tents on theeast side, and those of others on the west, and thus some of the tentswere always comfortable. I have seen Baby's mother running in a hardrain, with little Red-Riding-Hood in her arms, to take refuge with theAdjutant's wife, when every other abode was full of smoke; and I mustadmit that there were one or two windy days that season when nobodycould really keep warm, and Annie had to remain ignominiously in hercradle, with as many clothes on as possible, for almost the whole time. 

The Quartermaster's tent was very attractive to us in the evening. Iremember that once, on passing near it after nightfall, I heard ourMajor's fine voice singing Methodist hymns within, and Mrs. C. 's sweettones chiming in. So I peeped through the outer door. The fire wasburning very pleasantly in the inner tent, and the scrap of new redcarpet made the floor look quite magnificent. The Major sat on a box, our surgeon on a stool; "Q. M. " and his wife, and the Adjutant's wife, and one of the captains, were all sitting on the bed, singing as well asthey knew how; and the baby was under the bed. Baby had retired for thenight, was overshadowed, suppressed, sat upon; the singing went on, andshe had wandered away into her own land of dreams, nearer to heaven, perhaps, than any pitch their voices could attain. I went in, and joinedthe party. Presently the music stopped, and another officer was sentfor, to sing some particular song. At this pause the invisible innocentwaked a little, and began to cluck and coo. 

"It's the kitten, " exclaimed somebody. 

"It's my baby!" exclaimed Mrs. C. Triumphantly, in that tone ofunfailing personal pride which belongs to young mothers. 

The people all got up from the bed for a moment, while Annie was pulledfrom beneath, wide awake and placid as usual; and she sat in one lap oranother during the rest of the concert, sometimes winking at the candle, but usually listening to the songs, with a calm and critical expression, as if she could make as much noise as any of them, whenever she sawfit to try. Not a sound did she make, however, except one little softsneeze, which led to an immediate flood-tide of red shawl, coveringevery part of her but the forehead. But I soon hinted that the concerthad better be ended, because I knew from observation that the smalldamsel had Carefully watched a regimental inspection and a brigade drillon that day, and that an interval of repose was certainly necessary. 

Annie did not long remain the only baby in camp. One day, on goingout to the stables to look at a horse, I heard a sound of baby-talk, addressed by some man to a child near by, and, looking round the cornerof a tent, I saw that one of the hostlers had something black and round, lying on the sloping side of a tent, with which he was playing veryeagerly. It proved to be his baby, a plump, shiny thing, youngerthan Annie; and I never saw a merrier picture than the happy fatherfrolicking with his child, while the mother stood quietly by. This wasBaby Number Two, and she stayed in camp several weeks, the two innocentsmeeting each other every day, in the placid indifference that belongedto their years; both were happy little healthy things, and it neverseemed to cross their minds that there was any difference in theircomplexions. As I said before, Annie was not troubled by any prejudicein regard to color, nor do I suppose that the other little maiden was. 

Annie enjoyed the tent-life very much; but when we were Sent out onpicket soon after, she enjoyed it still more. Our head-quarters were ata deserted plantation house, with one large parlor, a dining-room, anda few bedrooms. Baby's father and mother had a room up stairs, witha stove whose pipe went straight out at the window. This was quitecomfortable, though half the windows were broken, and there was no glassand no glazier to mend them. The windows of the large parlor were inmuch the same condition, though we had an immense fireplace, where wehad a bright fire whenever it was cold, and always in the evening. Thewalls of this room were very dirty, and it took our ladies severaldays to cover all the unsightly places with wreaths and hangings ofevergreen. In the performance Baby took an active part. Her dutiesconsisted in sitting in a great nest of evergreen, pulling and fingeringthe fragrant leaves, and occasionally giving a little cry of glee whenshe had accomplished some piece of decided mischief. 

There was less entertainment to be found in the camp itself at thistime; but the household at head-quarters was larger than Baby had beenaccustomed to. We had a great deal of company, moreover, and she hadquite a gay life of it. She usually made her appearance in the largeparlor soon after breakfast; and to dance her for a few moments in ourarms was one of the first daily duties of each one. Then the morningreports began to arrive from the different outposts, --a mounted officeror courier coming in from each place, dismounting at the door, andclattering in with jingling arms and spurs, each a new excitementfor Annie. She usually got some attention from any officer who came, receiving with her wonted dignity any daring caress. When the messengershad ceased to be interesting, there were always the horses to look at, held or tethered under the trees beside the sunny _piazza_. After thevarious couriers had been received, other messengers would be despatchedto the town, seven miles away, and Baby had all the excitement of theirmounting and departure. Her father was often one of the riders, andwould sometimes seize Annie for a good-by kiss, place her on the saddlebefore him, gallop her round the house once or twice, and then give herback to her nurse's arms again. She was perfectly fearless, and suchboisterous attentions never frightened her, nor did they ever interferewith her sweet, infantine self-possession. 

After the riding-parties had gone, there was the _piazza_ still forentertainment, with a sentinel pacing up and down before it; but Anniedid not enjoy the sentinel, though his breastplate and buttons shonelike gold, so much as the hammock which always hung swinging betweenthe pillars. It was a pretty hammock, with great open meshes; and shedelighted to lie in it, and have the netting closed above her, so thatshe could only be seen through the apertures. I can see her now, thefresh little rosy thing, in her blue and scarlet wrappings, with oneround and dimpled arm thrust forth through the netting, and the othergrasping an armful of blushing roses and fragrant magnolias. She lookedlike those pretty French bas-reliefs of Cupids imprisoned in baskets, and peeping through. That hammock was a very useful appendage; it wasa couch for us, a cradle for Baby, a nest for the kittens; and we had, moreover, a little hen, which tried to roost there every night. 

When the mornings were colder, and the stove up stairs smoked the wrongway, Baby was brought down in a very incomplete state of toilet, andfinished her dressing by the great fire. We found her bare shouldersvery becoming, and she was very much interested in her own little pinktoes. After a very slow dressing, she had a still slower breakfast outof a tin cup of warm milk, of which she generally spilt a good deal, as she had much to do in watching everybody who came into the room, andseeing that there was no mischief done. Then she would be placed on thefloor, on our only piece of carpet, and the kittens would be brought infor her to play with. 

We had, at different times, a variety of pets, of whom Annie did nottake much notice. Sometimes we had young partridges, caught by thedrummer-boys in trap-cages. The children called them "Bob and Chloe, "because the first notes of the male and female sound like those names. One day I brought home an opossum, with her blind bare little youngclinging to the droll pouch where their mothers keep them. Sometimes wehad pretty green lizards, their color darkening or deepening, like thatof chameleons, in light or shade. But the only pets that took Baby'sfancy were the kittens. They perfectly delighted her, from the firstmoment she saw them; they were the only things younger than herself thatshe had ever beheld, and the only things softer than themselves that hersmall hands had grasped. It was astonishing to see how much the kittenswould endure from her. They could scarcely be touched by any one elsewithout mewing; but when Annie seized one by the head and the other bythe tail, and rubbed them violently together, they did not make asound. I suppose that a baby's grasp is really soft, even if it seemsferocious, and so it gives less pain than one would think. At any rate, the little animals had the best of it very soon; for they entirelyoutstripped Annie in learning to walk, and they could soon scramble awaybeyond her reach, while she sat in a sort of dumb despair, unable tocomprehend why anything so much smaller than herself should be so muchnimbler. Meanwhile, the kittens would sit up and look at her with themost provoking indifference, just out of arm's length, until some of uswould take pity on the young lady, and toss her furry playthings back toher again. "Little baby, " she learned to call them; and these were thevery first words she spoke. 

Baby had evidently a natural turn for war, further cultivated by anintimate knowledge of drills and parades. The nearer she came to actualconflict the better she seemed to like it, peaceful as her own littleways might be. Twice, at least, while she was with us on picket, wehad alarms from the Rebel troops, who would bring down cannon to theopposite side of the Ferry, about two miles beyond us, and throw shotand shell over upon our side. Then the officer at the Ferry would thinkthat there was to be an attack made, and couriers would be sent, ridingto and fro, and the men would all be called to arms in a hurry, and theladies at headquarters would all put on their best bonnets and come downstairs, and the ambulance would be made ready to carry them to a placeof safety before the expected fight. On such occasions Baby was in allher glory. She shouted with delight at being suddenly uncribbed andthrust into her little scarlet cloak, and brought down stairs, at anutterly unusual and improper hour, to a _piazza_ with lights and peopleand horses and general excitement. She crowed and gurgled and madegestures with her little fists, and screamed out what seemed to beher advice on the military situation, as freely as if she had been anewspaper editor. Except that it was rather difficult to understand herprecise direction, I do not know but the whole Rebel force might havebeen captured through her plans. And at any rate, I should much ratherobey her orders than those of some generals whom I have known; for sheat least meant no harm, and would lead one into no mischief. 

However, at last the danger, such as it was, would be all over, and theladies would be induced to go peacefully to bed again; and Annie wouldretreat with them to her ignoble cradle, very much disappointed, andlooking vainly back at the more martial scene below. The next morningshe would seem to have forgotten all about it, and would spill her breadand milk by the fire as if nothing had happened. 

I suppose we hardly knew, at the time, how large a part of the sunshineof our daily lives was contributed by dear little Annie. Yet, when I nowlook back on that pleasant Southern home, she seems as essential apart of it as the mocking-birds or the magnolias, and I cannot convincemyself that in returning to it I should not find her there. But Anniewent back, with the spring, to her Northern birthplace, and then passedaway from this earth before her little feet had fairly learned to treadits paths; and when I meet her next it must be in some world where thereis triumph without armies, and where innocence is trained in scenes ofpeace. I know, however, that her little life, short as it seemed, was ablessing to us all, giving a perpetual image of serenity and sweetness, recalling the lovely atmosphere of far-off homes, and holding us byunsuspected ties to whatsoever things were pure. 

Chapter 9. Negro Spirituals

The war brought to some of us, besides its direct experiences, many astrange fulfilment of dreams of other days. For instance, the presentwriter had been a faithful student of the Scottish ballads, and hadalways envied Sir Walter the delight of tracing them out amid theirown heather, and of writing them down piecemeal from the lips of agedcrones. It was a strange enjoyment, therefore, to be suddenly broughtinto the midst of a kindred world of unwritten songs, as simple andindigenous as the Border Minstrelsy, more uniformly plaintive, almostalways more quaint, and often as essentially poetic. 

This interest was rather increased by the fact that I had for many yearsheard of this class of songs under the name of "Negro Spirituals, " andhad even heard some of them sung by friends from South Carolina. I couldnow gather on their own soil these strange plants, which I had beforeseen as in museums alone. True, the individual songs rarely coincided;there was a line here, a chorus there, --just enough to fix the class, but this was unmistakable. It was not strange that they differed, for the range seemed almost endless, and South Carolina, Georgia, andFlorida seemed to have nothing but the generic character in common, until all were mingled in the united stock of camp-melodies. 

Often in the starlit evening, I have returned from some lonely ride bythe swift river, or on the plover-haunted barrens, and, entering thecamp, have silently approached some glimmering fire, round which thedusky figures moved in the rhythmical barbaric dance the negroes call a"shout, " chanting, often harshly, but always in the most perfecttime, some monotonous refrain. Writing down in the darkness, as I bestcould, --perhaps with my hand in the safe covert of my pocket, --the wordsof the song, I have afterwards carried it to my tent, like some capturedbird or insect, and then, after examination, put it by. Or, summoningone of the men at some period of leisure, --Corporal Robert Sutton, forinstance, whose iron memory held all the details of a song as if it werea ford or a forest, --I have completed the new specimen by supplying theabsent parts. The music I could only retain by ear, and though the morecommon strains were repeated often enough to fix their impression, therewere others that occurred only once or twice. 

The words will be here given, as nearly as possible, in the originaldialect; and if the spelling seems sometimes inconsistent, or themisspelling insufficient, it is because I could get no nearer. I wishedto avoid what seems to me the only error of Lowell's "Biglow Papers" inrespect to dialect, the occasional use of an extreme misspelling, whichmerely confuses the eye, without taking us any closer to the peculiarityof sound. 

The favorite song in camp was the following, sung with no accompanimentbut the measured clapping of hands and the clatter of many feet. It wassung perhaps twice as often as any other. This was partly due to thefact that it properly consisted of a chorus alone, with which the versesof other songs might be combined at random. 

I. HOLD YOUR LIGHT. 

 "Hold your light, Brudder Robert, Hold your light, Hold your light on Canaan's shore. "What make ole Satan for follow me so? Satan ain't got notin' for do wid me. Hold your light, Hold your light, Hold your light on Canaan's shore. "

This would be sung for half an hour at a time, perhaps each personpresent being named in turn. It seemed the simplest primitive type of"spiritual. " The next in popularity was almost as elementary, and, likethis, named successively each one of the circle. It was, however, muchmore resounding and convivial in its music. 

II. BOUND TO GO. 

 "Jordan River, I'm bound to go, Bound to go, bound to go, -- Jordan River, I'm bound to go, And bid 'em fare ye well. 

 "My Brudder Robert, I'm bound to go, Bound to go, " &c. 

 "My Sister Lucy, I'm bound to go, Bound to go, " &c. 

Sometimes it was "tink 'em" (think them) "fare ye well. " The _ye_ was sodetached that I thought at first it was "very" or "vary well. "

Another picturesque song, which seemed immensely popular, was at firstvery bewildering to me. I could not make out the first words of thechorus, and called it the "Roman-dar, " being reminded of some Romaicsong which I had formerly heard. That association quite fell in with theOrientalism of the new tent-life. 

III. ROOM IN THERE. 

 "O, my mudder is gone! my mudder is gone! My mudder is gone into heaven, my Lord! I can't stay behind! Dere's room in dar, room in dar, Room in dar, in de heaven, my Lord! I can't stay behind! Can't stay behind, my dear, I can't stay behind!

 "O, my fader is gone!" &c. 

 "O, de angels are gone!" &c. 

 "O, I'se been on de road! I'se been on de road! I'se been on de road into heaven, my Lord! I can't stay behind! O, room in dar, room in dar, Room in dar, in de heaven, my Lord! I can't stay behind!

By this time every man within hearing, from oldest to youngest, would bewriggling and shuffling, as if through some magic piper's bewitchment;for even those who at first affected contemptuous indifference would bedrawn into the vortex erelong. 

Next to these in popularity ranked a class of songs belongingemphatically to the Church Militant, and available for camp purposeswith very little strain upon their symbolism. This, for instance, had atrue companion-in-arms heartiness about it, not impaired by the feminineinvocation at the end. 

IV. HAIL MARY. 

 "One more valiant soldier here, One more valiant soldier here, One more valiant soldier here, To help me bear de cross. O hail, Mary, hail! Hail, Mary, hail! Hail, Mary, hail! To help me bear de cross. "

I fancied that the original reading might have been "soul, " insteadof "soldier, "--with some other syllable inserted to fill out themetre, --and that the "Hail, Mary, " might denote a Roman Catholic origin, as I had several men from St. Augustine who held in a dim way to thatfaith. It was a very ringing song, though not so grandly jubilant asthe next, which was really impressive as the singers pealed it out, whenmarching or rowing or embarking. 

V. MY ARMY CROSS OVER. 

 "My army cross over, My army cross over, O, Pharaoh's army drowndedl My army cross over. 

 "We'll cross de mighty river, My army cross over; We'll cross de river Jordan, My army cross over; We'll cross de danger water, My army cross over; We'll cross de mighty Myo, My army cross over. _(Thrice. )_ O, Pharaoh's army drowndedl My army cross over. "

I could get no explanation of the "mighty Myo, " except that one of theold men thought it meant the river of death. Perhaps it is an Africanword. In the Cameroon dialect, "Mawa" signifies "to die. "

The next also has a military ring about it, and the first line is wellmatched by the music. The rest is conglomerate, and one or two linesshow a more Northern origin. "Done" is a Virginia shibboleth, quitedistinct from the "been" which replaces it in South Carolina. Yet oneof their best choruses, without any fixed words, was, "De bell doneringing, " for which, in proper South Carolina dialect, would have beensubstituted, "De bell been a-ring. " This refrain may have gone Southwith our army. 

VI. RIDE IN, KIND SAVIOUR. 

 "Ride in, kind Saviour! No man can hinder me. O, Jesus is a mighty man! No man, &c. We're marching through Virginny fields. No man, &c. O, Satan is a busy man, No man, &c. And he has his sword and shield, No man, &c. O, old Secesh done come and gone! No man can hinder me. "

Sometimes they substituted "binder _we_, " which was more spicy to theear, and more in keeping with the usual head-over-heels arrangement oftheir pronouns. 

Almost all their songs were thoroughly religious in their tone, howeverquaint then: expression, and were in a minor key, both as to words andmusic. The attitude is always the same, and, as a commentary on thelife of the race, is infinitely pathetic. Nothing but patience forthis life, --nothing but triumph in the next. Sometimes the presentpredominates, sometimes the future; but the combination is alwaysimplied. In the following, for instance, we hear simply the patience. 

VII. THIS WORLD ALMOST DONE. 

 "Brudder, keep your lamp trimmin' and a-burnin', Keep your lamp trimmin' and a-burnin', Keep your lamp trimmin' and a-burnin', For dis world most done. So keep your lamp, &c. Dis world most done. "

But in the next, the final reward of patience is proclaimed asplaintively. 

VIII. I WANT TO GO HOME. 

 "Dere's no rain to wet you, O, yes, I want to go home. Dere's no sun to burn you, O, yes, I want to go home; O, push along, believers, O, yes, &c. Dere's no hard trials, O, yes, &c. Dere's no whips a-crackin', O, yes, &c. My brudder on de wayside, O, yes, &c. O, push along, my brudder, O, yes, &c. Where dere's no stormy weather, O, yes, &c. Dere's no tribulation, O, yes, &c. 

This next was a boat-song, and timed well with the tug of the oar. 

IX. THE COMING DAY

 "I want to go to Canaan, I want to go to Canaan, I want to go to Canaan, To meet 'em at de comin' day. O, remember, let me go to Canaan, _(Thrice. )_ To meet "em, &c. O brudder, let me go to Canaan, _(Thrice. )_ To meet 'em, &c. My brudder, you--oh!--remember, _(Thrice. )_ To meet 'em at de comin' day. "

The following begins with a startling affirmation, yet the last linequite outdoes the first. This, too, was a capital boat-song. 

X. ONE MORE RIVER. 

 "O, Jordan bank was a great old bank, Dere ain't but one more river to cross. We have some valiant soldier here, Dere ain't, &c. O, Jordan stream will never run dry, Dere ain't, &c. Dere's a hill on my leff, and he catch on my right, Dere ain't but one more river to cross. "

I could get no explanation of this last riddle, except, "Dat mean, ifyou go on de leff, go to 'struction, and if you go on de right, go toGod, for sure. "

In others, more of spiritual conflict is implied, as in this next

XI. O THE DYING LAMB!

 "I wants to go where Moses trod, O de dying Lamb! For Moses gone to de promised land, O de dying Lamb! To drink from springs dat never run dry, O, &c. Cry O my Lord! O, &c. Before I'll stay in hell one day, O, &c. I'm in hopes to pray my sins away, O, &c. Cry O my Lord! 0, &c. Brudder Moses promised for be dar too, O, &c. To drink from streams dat never run dry, O de dying Lamb!"

In the next, the conflict is at its height, and the lurid imagery ofthe Apocalypse is brought to bear. This book, with the books of Moses, constituted their Bible; all that lay between, even the narratives ofthe life of Jesus, they hardly cared to read or to hear. 

XII. DOWN IN THE VALLEY. 

 "We'll run and never tire, We'll run and never tire, We'll run and never tire, Jesus set poor sinners free. Way down in de valley, Who will rise and go with me? You've heern talk of Jesus, Who set poor sinners free. 

 "De lightnin' and de flashin' De lightnin' and de flashin', De lightnin' and de flashin', Jesus set poor shiners free. I can't stand the fire. _(Thrice. )_ Jesus set poor sinners free, De green trees a-flamin'. _(Thrice_. ) Jesus set poor shiners free, Way down in de valley, Who will rise and go with me? You've heern talk of Jesus Who set poor shiners free. "

"De valley" and "de lonesome valley" were familiar words in theirreligious experience. To descend into that region implied the sameprocess with the "anxious-seat" of the camp-meeting. When a young girlwas supposed to enter it, she bound a handkerchief by a peculiar knotover her head, and made it a point of honor not to change a singlegarment till the day of her baptism, so that she was sure of being inphysical readiness for the cleansing rite, whatever her spiritualmood might be. More than once, in noticing a damsel thus mysticallykerchiefed, I have asked some dusky attendant its meaning, and havereceived the unfailing answer, --framed with their usual indifference tothe genders of pronouns--"He in de lonesome valley, sa. "

The next gives the same dramatic conflict, while its detached andimpersonal refrain gives it strikingly the character of the Scotch andScandinavian ballads. 

XIII. CRY HOLY. 

 "Cry holy, holy! Look at de people dat is born of God. And I run down de valley, and I run down to pray, Says, look at de people dat is born of God. When I get dar, Cappen Satan was dar, Says, look at, &c. Says, young man, young man, dere's no use for pray, Says, look at, &c. For Jesus is dead, and God gone away, Says, look at, &c. And I made him out a liar, and I went my way, Says, look at, &c. Sing holy, holy!

 "O, Mary was a woman, and he had a one Son, Says, look at, &c. And de Jews and de Romans had him hung, Says, look at, &c. Cry holy, holy!

 "And I tell you, sinner, you had better had pray, Says, look at, &c. For hell is a dark and dismal place, Says, look at, &c. 

 And I tell you, sinner, and I wouldn't go dar! Says, look at, &c. Cry holy, holy!"

Here is an infinitely quaint description of the length of the heavenlyroad:--

XIV. O'ER THE CROSSING. 

 "Vender's my old mudder, Been a-waggin' at de hill so long. It's about time she'll cross over; Get home bimeby. Keep prayin', I do believe We're a long time waggin' o'er de crossin'. Keep prayin', I do believe We'll get home to heaven bimeby. 

 "Hear dat mournful thunder Roll from door to door, Calling home God's children; Get home bimeby. Little chil'en, I do believe We're a long time, &c. Little chil'en, I do believe We'll get home, &c. 

 "See dat forked lightnin' Flash from tree to tree, Callin' home God's chil'en; Get home bimeby. True believer, I do believe We're a long time, &c. O brudders, I do believe, We'll get home to heaven bimeby. "

One of the most singular pictures of future joys, and with fine flavorof hospitality about it, was this:--

XV. WALK 'EM EASY. 

 "O, walk 'em easy round de heaven, Walk 'em easy round de heaven, Walk 'em easy round de heaven, Dat all de people may join de band. Walk 'em easy round de heaven. (_Thrice_. ) O, shout glory till 'em join dat band!"

The chorus was usually the greater part of the song, and often came inparadoxically, thus:--

XVI. O YES, LORD. 

 "O, must I be like de foolish mans? O yes, Lord! Will build de house on de sandy hill. O yes, Lord! I'll build my house on Zion hill, O yes, Lord! No wind nor rain can blow me down, O yes, Lord!"

The next is very graceful and lyrical, and with more variety of rhythmthan usual:--

XVII. BOW LOW, MARY. 

 "Bow low, Mary, bow low, Martha, For Jesus come and lock de door, And carry de keys away. Sail, sail, over yonder, And view de promised land. For Jesus come, &c. Weep, O Mary, bow low, Martha, For Jesus come, &c. Sail, sail, my true believer; Sail, sail, over yonder; Mary, bow low, Martha, bow low, For Jesus come and lock de door And carry de keys away. "

But of all the "spirituals" that which surprised me the most, Ithink, --perhaps because it was that in which external nature furnishedthe images most directly, --was this. With all my experience of theirideal ways of speech, I was startled when first I came on such a flowerof poetry in that dark soil. 

XVIII. I KNOW MOON-RISE. 

 "I know moon-rise, I know star-rise, Lay dis body down. I walk in de moonlight, I walk in de starlight, To lay dis body down. I'll walk in de graveyard, I'll walk through de graveyard, To lay dis body down. I'll lie in de grave and stretch out my arms; Lay dis body down. I go to de judgment in de evenin' of de day, When I lay dis body down; And my soul and your soul will meet in de day When I lay dis body down. "

"I'll lie in de grave and stretch out my arms. " Never, it seems to me, since man first lived and suffered, was his infinite longing for peaceuttered more plaintively than in that line. 

The next is one of the wildest and most striking of the whole series:there is a mystical effect and a passionate striving throughout thewhole. The Scriptural struggle between Jacob and the angel, which isonly dimly expressed in the words, seems all uttered in the music. Ithink it impressed my imagination more powerfully than any other ofthese songs. 

XIX. WRESTLING JACOB. 

 "O wrestlin' Jacob, Jacob, day's a-breakin'; I will not let thee go! O wrestlin' Jacob, Jacob, day's a-breakin'; He will not let me go! O, I hold my brudder wid a tremblin' hand I would not let him go! I hold my sister wid a tremblin' hand; I would not let her go!

 "O, Jacob do hang from a tremblin' limb, He would not let him go! O, Jacob do hang from a tremblin' limb; De Lord will bless my soul. O wrestlin' Jacob, Jacob, " &c. 

Of "occasional hymns, " properly so called, I noticed but one, a funeralhymn for an infant, which is sung plaintively over and over, withoutvariety of words. 

XX. THE BABY GONE HOME. 

 "De little baby gone home, De little baby gone home, De little baby gone along, For to climb up Jacob's ladder. And I wish I'd been dar, I wish I'd been dar, I wish I'd been dar, my Lord, For to climb up Jacob's ladder. "

Still simpler is this, which is yet quite sweet and touching. 

XXI. JESUS WITH US. 

 "He have been wid us, Jesus He still wid us, Jesus, He will be wid us, Jesus, Be wid us to the end. "

The next seemed to be a favorite about Christmas time, when meditationson "de rollin' year" were frequent among them. 

XXII. LORD, REMEMBER ME. 

 "O do, Lord, remember me! O do, Lord, remember me! O, do remember me, until de year roll round! Do, Lord, remember me!

 "If you want to die like Jesus died, Lay in de grave, You would fold your arms and close your eyes And die wid a free good will. 

 "For Death is a simple ting, And he go from door to door, And he knock down some, and he cripple op some, And he leave some here to pray. 

 "O do, Lord remember me! O do, Lord, remember me! My old fader's gone till de year roll round; Do, Lord, remember me!"

The next was sung in such an operatic and rollicking way that it wasquite hard to fancy it a religious performance, which, however, it was. I heard it but once. 

XXIH. EARLY IN THE MORNING. 

 "I meet little Rosa early in de mornin', O Jerusalem! early in de mornin'; And I ax her, How you do, my darter? O Jerusalem! early in de mornin'. 

 "I meet my mudder early in de mornin', O Jerusalem! &c. And I ax her, How you do, my mudder? O Jerusalem! &c. 

 "I meet Brudder Robert early in de mornin', O Jerusalem! &c. And I ax him, How you do, my sonny? O Jerusalem! &c. 

 "I meet Tittawisa early in de mornin', O Jerusalem! &c. And I ax her, How you do, my darter? O Jerusalem!" &c. 

"Tittawisa" means "Sister Louisa. " In songs of this class the name ofevery person present successively appears. 

Their best marching song, and one which was invaluable to lift theirfeet along, as they expressed it, was the following. There was a kind ofspring and lilt to it, quite indescribable by words. 

XXIV. GO IN THE WILDERNESS. 

 "Jesus call you. Go in de wilderness, Go in de wilderness, go in de wilderness, Jesus call you. Go in de wilderness To wait upon de Lord. Go wait upon de Lord, Go wait upon de Lord, Go wait upon de Lord, my God, He take away de sins of de world. 

 "Jesus a-waitin'. Go in de wilderness, Go, &c. All dem chil'en go in de wilderness To wait upon de Lord. "

The next was one of those which I had heard in boyish days, broughtNorth from Charleston. But the chorus alone was identical; the wordswere mainly different, and those here given are quaint enough. 

XXV. BLOW YOUR TRUMPET, GABRIEL. 

 "O, blow your trumpet, Gabriel, Blow your trumpet louder; And I want dat trumpet to blow me home To my new Jerusalem. 

 "De prettiest ting dat ever I done Was to serve de Lord when I was young. So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c. 

 "O, Satan is a liar, and he conjure too, And if you don't mind, he'll conjure you. So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c. 

 "O, I was lost in de wilderness. King Jesus hand me de candle down. So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, " &c. 

The following contains one of those odd transformations of proper nameswith which their Scriptural citations were often enriched. It rivalstheir text, "Paul may plant, and may polish wid water, " which I haveelsewhere quoted, and in which the sainted Apollos would hardly haverecognized himself. 

XXVI. IN THE MORNING. 

 "In de mornin', In de mornin', Chil'en? Yes, my Lord! Don't you hear de trumpet sound? If I had a-died when I was young, I never would had de race for run. Don't you hear de trumpet sound?

 "O Sam and Peter was fishin' in de sea, And dey drop de net and follow my Lord. Don't you hear de trumpet sound?

 "Dere's a silver spade for to dig my grave And a golden chain for to let me down. Don't you hear de trumpet sound? In de mornin', In de mornin', Chil'en? Yes, my Lord! Don't you hear de trumpet sound?"

These golden and silver fancies remind one of the King of Spain'sdaughter in "Mother Goose, " and the golden apple, and the silver pear, which are doubtless themselves but the vestiges of some simple earlycomposition like this. The next has a humbler and more domestic style offancy. 

XXVII. FARE YE WELL. 

 "My true believers, fare ye well, Fare ye well, fare ye well, Fare ye well, by de grace of God, For I'm going home. 

 Massa Jesus give me a little broom For to sweep my heart clean, And I will try, by de grace of God, To win my way home. "

Among the songs not available for marching, but requiring theconcentrated enthusiasm of the camp, was "The Ship of Zion, " of whichthey had three wholly distinct versions, all quite exuberant andtumultuous. 

XXVIII. THE SHIP OF ZION. 

 "Come along, come along, And let us go home, O, glory, hallelujah? Dis de ole ship o' Zion, Halleloo! Halleloo! Dis de ole ship o' Zion, Hallelujah!

 "She has landed many a tousand, She can land as many more. O, glory, hallelujah! &c. 

 "Do you tink she will be able For to take us all home? O, glory, hallelujah! &c. 

 "You can tell 'em I'm a comin', Halleloo! Halleloo! You can tell 'em I'm a comin', Hallelujah! Come along, come along, " &c. 

XXIX. THE SHIP OF ZION. _(Second version. )_

 "Dis de good ole ship o' Zion, Dis de good ole ship o' Zion, Dis de good ole ship o' Zion, And she's makin' for de Promise Land. She hab angels for de sailors, _(Thrice. )_ And she's, &c. And how you know dey's angels? _(Thrice. )_ And she's, &c. Good Lord, Shall I be one? _(Thrice. )_ And she's, &c. 

 "Dat ship is out a-sailin', sailin', sailin', And she's, &c. She's a-sailin' mighty steady, steady, steady, And she's, &c. She'll neither reel nor totter, totter, totter, And she's, &c. She's a-sailin' away cold Jordan, Jordan, Jordan, And she's, &c. King Jesus is de captain, captain, captain, And she's makin' for de Promise Land. "

XXX. THE SHIP OF ZION. _(Third version. )_

 "De Gospel ship is sailin', Hosann--sann. O, Jesus is de captain, Hosann--sann. De angels are de sailors, Hosann--sann. O, is your bundle ready? Hosann--sann. O, have you got your ticket? Hosann--sann. "

This abbreviated chorus is given with unspeakable unction. 

The three just given are modifications of an old camp-meeting melody;and the same may be true of the three following, although I cannot findthem in the Methodist hymn-books. Each, however, has its characteristicmodifications, which make it well worth giving. In the second verse ofthis next, for instance, "Saviour" evidently has become "soldier. "

XXXI. SWEET MUSIC

 "Sweet music in heaven, Just beginning for to roll. Don't you love God? Glory, hallelujah!

 "Yes, late I heard my soldier say, Come, heavy soul, I am de way. Don't you love God? Glory, hallelujah!

 "I'll go and tell to sinners round What a kind Saviour I have found. Don't you love God? Glory, hallelujah!

 "My grief my burden long has been, Because I was not cease from sin. Don't you love God? Glory, hallelujahl"

XXXII. GOOD NEWS. 

 "O, good news! O, good news! De angels brought de tidings down, Just comin' from de trone. 

 "As grief from out my soul shall fly, Just comin' from de trone; I'll shout salvation when I die, Good news, O, good news! Just comin' from de trone. 

 "Lord, I want to go to heaven when I die, Good news, O, good news! &c. 

 "De white folks call us a noisy crew, Good news, O, good news! But dis I know, we are happy too, Just comin' from de trone. "

XXXIII. THE HEAVENLY ROAD. 

 "You may talk of my name as much as you please, And carry my name abroad, But I really do believe I'm a child of God As I walk in de heavenly road. O, won't you go wid me? _(Thrice. )_ For to keep our garments clean. 

 "O Satan is a mighty busy ole man, And roll rocks in my way; But Jesus is my bosom friend, And roll 'em out of de way. O, won't you go wid me? _(Thrice. )_ For to keep our garments clean. 

 "Come, my brudder, if you never did pray, I hope you may pray to-night; For I really believe I'm a child of God As I walk in de heavenly road. O, won't you, " &c. 

Some of the songs had played an historic part during the war. Forsinging the next, for instance, the negroes had been put in jail inGeorgetown, S. C. , at the outbreak of the Rebellion. "We'll soon befree" was too dangerous an assertion; and though the chant was an oldone, it was no doubt sung with redoubled emphasis during the new events. "De Lord will call us home, " was evidently thought to be a symbolicalverse; for, as a little drummer-boy explained to me, showing all hiswhite teeth as he sat in the moonlight by the door of my tent, "Dey tink_de Lord_ mean for say _de Yankees_. "

XXXIV. WE'LL SOON BE FREE. 

 "We'll soon be free, We'll soon be free, We'll soon be free, When de Lord will call us home. My brudder, how long, My brudder, how long, My brudder, how long, 'Fore we done sufferin' here? It won't be long _(Thrice. )_ 'Fore de Lord will call us home. We'll walk de miry road _(Thrice. )_ Where pleasure never dies. We'll walk de golden street _(Thrice. )_ Where pleasure never dies. My brudder, how long _(Thrice. )_ 'Fore we done sufferin' here? We'll soon be free _(Thrice. )_ When Jesus sets me free. We'll fight for liberty _(Thrice. )_ When de Lord will call us home. "

The suspicion in this case was unfounded, but they had another song towhich the Rebellion had actually given rise. This was composed by nobodyknew whom, --though it was the most recent, doubtless, of all these"spirituals, "--and had been sung in secret to avoid detection. It iscertainly plaintive enough. The peck of corn and pint of salt wereslavery's rations. 

XXXV. MANY THOUSAND GO. 

 "No more peck o' corn for me, No more, no more, -- No more peck o' corn for me, Many tousand go. 

 "No more driver's lash for me, _(Twice. )_ No more, &c. 

 "No more pint o' salt for me, _(Twice_. ) No more, &c. 

 "No more hundred lash for me, _(Twice_. ) No more, &c. 

 "No more mistress' call for me, No more, no more, -- No more mistress' call for me, Many tousand go. "

Even of this last composition, however, we have only the approximatedate and know nothing of the mode of composition. Allan Ramsay saysof the Scotch songs, that, no matter who made them, they were soonattributed to the minister of the parish whence they sprang. And Ialways wondered, about these, whether they had always a conscious anddefinite origin in some leading mind, or whether they grew by gradualaccretion, in an almost unconscious way. On this point I could get noinformation, though I asked many questions, until at last, one daywhen I was being rowed across from Beaufort to Ladies' Island, I foundmyself, with delight, on the actual trail of a song. One of the oarsmen, a brisk young fellow, not a soldier, on being asked for his theory ofthe matter, dropped out a coy confession. "Some good sperituals, " hesaid, "are start jess out o' curiosity. I been a-raise a sing, myself, once. "

My dream was fulfilled, and I had traced out, not the poem alone, butthe poet. I implored him to proceed. 

"Once we boys, " he said, "went for tote some rice and de nigger-driverhe keep a-callin' on us; and I say, 'O, de ole nigger-driver!' Denanudder said, 'Fust ting my mammy tole me was, notin' so bad asnigger-driver. ' Den I made a sing, just puttin' a word, and den anudderword. "

Then he began singing, and the men, after listening a moment, joined inthe chorus, as if it were an old acquaintance, though they evidentlyhad never heard it before. I saw how easily a new "sing" took root amongthem. 

XXXVI. THE DRIVER. 

 "O, de ole nigger-driver! O, gwine away! Fust ting my mammy tell me, O, gwine away! Tell me 'bout de nigger-driver, O, gwine away! Nigger-driver second devil, O, gwine away! Best ting for do he driver, O, gwine away! Knock he down and spoil he labor, O, gwine away!"

It will be observed that, although this song is quite secular in itscharacter, yet its author called it a "spiritual. " I heard but two songsamong them, at any time, to which they would not, perhaps, havegiven this generic name. One of these consisted simply in the endlessrepetition--after the manner of certain college songs--of the mysteriousline, --

 "Rain fall and wet Becky Lawton. "

But who Becky Lawton was, and why she should or should not be wet, andwhether the dryness was a reward or a penalty, none could say. I gotthe impression that, in either case, the event was posthumous, andthat there was some tradition of grass not growing over the grave of asinner; but even this was vague, and all else vaguer. 

The other song I heard but once, on a morning when a squad of men camein from picket duty, and chanted it in the most rousing way. It had beena stormy and comfortless night, and the picket station was very exposed. It still rained in the morning when I strolled to the edge of the camp, looking out for the men, and wondering how they had stood it. Presentlythey came striding along the road, at a great pace, with their shiningrubber blankets worn as cloaks around them, the rain streaming fromthese and from their equally shining faces, which were almost all uponthe broad grin, as they pealed out this remarkable ditty:--

HANGMAN JOHNNY. 

 "O, dey call me Hangman Johnny! O, ho! O, ho! But I never hang nobody, O, hang, boys, hang! O dey, call me Hangman Johnny! O, ho! O, ho! But we'll all hang togedder, O, hang, boys, hang!"

My presence apparently checked the performance of another verse, beginning, "De buckra 'list for money, " apparently in reference to thecontroversy about the pay-question, then just beginning, and to themore mercenary aims they attributed to the white soldiers. But "HangmanJohnny" remained always a myth as inscrutable as "Becky Lawton. "

As they learned all their songs by ear, they often strayed into whollynew versions, which sometimes became popular, and entirely banished theothers. This was amusingly the case, for instance, with one phrase inthe popular camp-song of "Marching Along, " which was entirely new tothem until our quartermaster taught it to them, at my request. Thewords, "Gird on the armor, " were to them a stumbling-block, and nowonder, until some ingenious ear substituted, "Guide on de army, " whichwas at once accepted, and became universal. 

 "We'll guide on de army, and be marching along"

is now the established version on the Sea Islands. 

These quaint religious songs were to the men more than a source ofrelaxation; they were a stimulus to courage and a tie to heaven. I neveroverheard in camp a profane or vulgar song. With the trifling exceptionsgiven, all had a religious motive, while the most secular melody couldnot have been more exciting. A few youths from Savannah, who werecomparatively men of the world, had learned some of the "EthiopianMinstrel" ditties, imported from the North. These took no hold upon themass; and, on the other hand, they sang reluctantly, even on Sunday, thelong and short metres of the hymn-books, always gladly yielding to themore potent excitement of their own "spirituals. " By these theycould sing themselves, as had their fathers before them, out of thecontemplation of their own low estate, into the sublime scenery of theApocalypse. I remember that this minor-keyed pathos used to seem to mealmost too sad to dwell upon, while slavery seemed destined to lastfor generations; but now that their patience has had its perfect work, history cannot afford to lose this portion of its record. There is noparallel instance of an oppressed race thus sustained by the religioussentiment alone. These songs are but the vocal expression of thesimplicity of their faith and the sublimity of their long resignation. 

Chapter 10 Life at Camp Shaw

The Edisto expedition cost me the health and strength of several years. I could say, long after, in the words of one of the men, "I'se beena sickly person, eber since de expeditious. " Justice to a strongconstitution and good habits compels me, however, to say that, up to thetime of my injury, I was almost the only officer in the regiment whohad not once been off duty from illness. But at last I had to yield, andwent North for a month. 

We heard much said, during the war, of wounded officers who stayedunreasonably long at home. I think there were more instances of thosewho went back too soon. Such at least was my case. On returning to theregiment I found a great accumulation of unfinished business; everymember of the field and staff was prostrated by illness or absent ondetailed service; two companies had been sent to Hilton Head onfatigue duty, and kept there unexpectedly long: and there was a visibledemoralization among the rest, especially from the fact that theirpay had just been cut down, in violation of the express pledges of thegovernment. A few weeks of steady sway made all right again; and duringthose weeks I felt a perfect exhilaration of health, followed by a monthor two of complete prostration, when the work was done. This passing, I returned to duty, buoyed up by the fallacious hope that the wintermonths would set me right again. 

We had a new camp on Port Royal Island, very pleasantly situated, justout of Beaufort. It stretched nearly to the edge of a shelving bluff, fringed with pines and overlooking the river; below the bluff was ahard, narrow beach, where one might gallop a mile and bathe at thefarther end. We could look up and down the curving stream, and watch thefew vessels that came and went. Our first encampment had been lower downthat same river, and we felt at home. 

The new camp was named Camp Shaw, in honor of the noble young officerwho had lately fallen at Fort Wagner, under circumstances which hadendeared him to all the men. As it happened, they had never seenhim, nor was my regiment ever placed within immediate reach of theFifty-Fourth Massachusetts. This I always regretted, feeling verydesirous to compare the military qualities of the Northern and Southernblacks. As it was, the Southern regiments with which the Massachusettstroops were brigaded were hardly a fair specimen of their kind, havingbeen raised chiefly by drafting, and, for this and other causes, beingafflicted with perpetual discontent and desertion. 

We had, of course, looked forward with great interest to the arrival ofthese new colored regiments, and I had ridden in from the picket-stationto see the Fifty-Fourth. Apart from the peculiarity of its material, itwas fresh from my own State, and I had relatives and acquaintances amongits officers. Governor Andrew, who had formed it, was an old friend, andhad begged me, on departure from Massachusetts, to keep him informedas to our experiment I had good reason to believe that my reports hadhelped to prepare the way for this new battalion, and I had sent him, athis request, some hints as to its formation. *

*COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS, Executive Department, Boston, February 5, 1863. 

To COL. T. W. HIGGINSON, Commanding 1st Regt. S. C. Vols. , Port Royal Id. , S. C. 

COLONEL, --I am under obligations to you for your very interesting letterof January 19th, which I considered to be too important in its testimonyto the efficiency of colored troops to be allowed to remain hidden onmy files. I therefore placed some portions of it in the hands of Hon. Stephen M. Weld, of Jamaica Plain, for publication, and you will findenclosed the newspaper slip from the "Journal" of February 3d, inwhich it appeared. During a recent visit at Washington I have obtainedpermission from the Department of War to enlist colored troops aspart of the Massachusetts quota, and I am about to begin to organizea colored infantry regiment, to be numbered the "54th MassachusettsVolunteers. "

I shall be greatly obliged by any suggestions which your experiencemay afford concerning it, and I am determined that it shall serve as amodel, in the high character of its officers and the thorough disciplineof its men, for all subsequent corps of the like material. 

Please present to General Saxton the assurances of my respectful regard. 

I have the honor to be, respectfully and obediently yours, JOHN A. ANDREW, Governor of Massachusetts. 

In the streets of Beaufort I had met Colonel Shaw, riding with hislieutenant-colonel and successor, Edward Hallowell, and had gone backwith them to share their first meal in camp. I should have known Shawanywhere by his resemblance to his kindred, nor did it take longto perceive that he shared their habitual truthfulness and courage. Moreover, he and Hallowell had already got beyond the commonplaces ofinexperience, in regard to colored troops, and, for a wonder, asked onlysensible questions. For instance, he admitted the mere matter of courageto be settled, as regarded the colored troops, and his whole solicitudebore on this point, Would they do as well in line-of-battle as they hadalready done in more irregular service, and on picket and guard duty? Ofthis I had, of course, no doubt, nor, I think, had he; though I rememberhis saying something about the possibility of putting them between twofires in case of need, and so cutting off their retreat. I should neverhave thought of such a project, but I could not have expected bun totrust them as I did, until he had been actually under fire with them. That, doubtless, removed all his anxieties, if he really had any. 

This interview had occurred on the 4th of June. Shaw and his regimenthad very soon been ordered to Georgia, then to Morris Island; FortWagner had been assaulted, and he had been killed. Most of the men knewabout the circumstances of his death, and many of them had subscribedtowards a monument for him, --a project which originated with GeneralSaxton, and which was finally embodied in the "Shaw School-house" atCharleston. So it gave us all pleasure to name this camp for him, as itspredecessor had been named for General Saxton. 

The new camp was soon brought into good order. The men had greatingenuity in building screens and shelters of light poles, filled inwith the gray moss from the live-oaks. The officers had vestibules builtin this way, before all their tents; the cooking-places were walledround in the same fashion; and some of the wide company-streets hadsheltered sidewalks down the whole line of tents. The sergeant on dutyat the entrance of the camp had a similar bower, and the architectureculminated in a "Praise-House" for school and prayer-meetings, somethirty feet in diameter. As for chimneys and flooring, they wereprovided with that magic and invisible facility which marks the secondyear of a regiment's life. 

That officer is happy who, besides a constitutional love of adventure, has also a love for the details of camp life, and likes to bring them toperfection. Nothing but a hen with her chickens about her can symbolizethe content I felt on getting my scattered companies together, aftersome temporary separation on picket or fatigue duty. Then we went towork upon the nest. The only way to keep a camp in order is to set abouteverything as if you expected to stay there forever; if you stay, youget the comfort of it; if ordered away in twenty-four hours, you forgetall wasted labor in the excitement of departure. Thus viewed, a camp isa sort of model farm or bit of landscape gardening; there is always somesmall improvement to be made, a trench, a well, more shade against thesun, an increased vigilance in sweeping. Then it is pleasant to takecare of the men, to see them happy, to hear them purr. 

Then the duties of inspection and drill, suspended during activeservice, resume their importance with a month or two of quiet. It reallycosts unceasing labor to keep a regiment in perfect condition and readyfor service. The work is made up of minute and endless details, like abird's pruning her feathers or a cat's licking her kittens into theirproper toilet. Here are eight hundred men, every one of whom, everySunday morning at farthest, must be perfectly _soigne_ in all personalproprieties; he must exhibit himself provided with every articleof clothing, buttons, shoe-strings, hooks and eyes, company letter, regimental number, rifle, bayonet, bayonet-scabbard, cap-pouch, cartridge-box, cartridge-box belt, cartridge-box belt-plate, gun-sling, canteen, haversack, knapsack, packed according to rule, fortycartridges, forty percussion caps; and every one of these articlespolished to the highest brightness or blackness as the case may be, and moreover hung or slung or tied or carried in precisely the correctmanner. 

What a vast and formidable housekeeping is here, my patriotic sisters!Consider, too, that every corner of the camp is to be kept absolutelyclean and ready for exhibition at the shortest notice; hospital, stables, guard-house, cook-houses, company tents, must all be brought toperfection, and every square inch of this "farm of four acres" mustlook as smooth as an English lawn, twice a day. All this, beside thediscipline and the drill and the regimental and company books, whichmust keep rigid account of all these details; consider all this, andthen wonder no more that officers and men rejoice in being ordered onactive service, where a few strokes of the pen will dispose of all thismultiplicity of trappings as "expended in action" or "lost in service. "

For one, the longer I remained in service, the better I appreciated thegood sense of most of the regular army niceties. True, these things mustall vanish when the time of action comes, but it is these things thathave prepared you for action. Of course, if you dwell on them only, military life becomes millinery life alone. Kinglake says thatthe Russian Grand-Duke Constantine, contemplating his beautifultoy-regiments, said that he dreaded war, for he knew that it would spoilthe troops. The simple fact is, that a soldier is like the weapon hecarries; service implies soiling, but you must have it clean in advance, that when soiled it may be of some use. 

The men had that year a Christmas present which they enjoyed to theutmost, --furnishing the detail, every other day, for provost-guard dutyin Beaufort. It was the only military service which they had ever sharedwithin the town, and it moreover gave a sense of self-respect to bekeeping the peace of their own streets. I enjoyed seeing them put onduty those mornings; there was such a twinkle of delight in their eyes, though their features were immovable. As the "reliefs" went round, posting the guard, under charge of a corporal, one could watch the blacksentinels successively dropped and the whites picked up, --graduallychanging the complexion, like Lord Somebody's black stockings whichbecame white stockings, --till at last there was only a squad ofwhite soldiers obeying the "Support Arms! Forward, March!" of a blackcorporal. 

Then, when once posted, they glorified their office, you may be sure. Discipline had grown rather free-and-easy in the town about that time, and it is said that the guard-house never was so full within humanmemory as after their first tour of duty. I remember hearing that oneyoung reprobate, son of a leading Northern philanthropist in thoseparts, was much aggrieved at being taken to the lock-up merely becausehe was found drunk in the streets. "Why, " said he, "the white corporalsalways showed me the way home. " And I can testify that, after an eveningparty, some weeks later, I beard with pleasure the officers askingeagerly for the countersign. "Who has the countersign?" said they. "Thedarkeys are on guard to-night, and we must look out for our lives. " Evenafter a Christmas party at General Saxton's, the guard at the door veryproperly refused to let the ambulance be brought round from the stablefor the ladies because the driver had not the countersign. 

One of the sergeants of the guard, on one of these occasions, made toone who questioned his authority an answer that could hardly have beenimproved. The questioner had just been arrested for some offence. 

"Know what dat mean?" said the indignant sergeant, pointing to thechevrons on his own sleeve. "Dat mean _Guv'ment_. " Volumes could nothave said more, and the victim collapsed. The thing soon settled itself, and nobody remembered to notice whether the face beside the musket of asentinel were white or black. It meant Government, all the same. 

The men were also indulged with several raids on the mainland, underthe direction of Captain J. E. Bryant, of the Eighth Maine, the mostexperienced scout in that region, who was endeavoring to raise byenlistment a regiment of colored troops. On one occasion CaptainsWhitney and Heasley, with their companies, penetrated nearly toPocataligo, capturing some pickets and bringing away all the slaves ofa plantation, --the latter operation being entirely under the charge ofSergeant Harry Williams (Co. K), without the presence of any white man. The whole command was attacked on the return by a rebel force, whichturned out to be what was called in those regions a "dog-company, "consisting of mounted riflemen with half a dozen trained bloodhounds. The men met these dogs with their bayonets, killed four or five of theirold tormentors with great relish, and brought away the carcass of one. I had the creature skinned, and sent the skin to New York to be stuffedand mounted, meaning to exhibit it at the Sanitary Commission Fair hiBoston; but it spoiled on the passage. These quadruped allies were notoriginally intended as "dogs of war, " but simply to detect fugitiveslaves, and the men were delighted at this confirmation of their talesof dog-companies, which some of the officers had always disbelieved. 

Captain Bryant, during his scouting adventures, had learned to outwitthese bloodhounds, and used his skill in eluding escape, during anotherexpedition of the same kind. He was sent with Captain Metcalf's companyfar up the Combahee River to cut the telegraphic wires and interceptdespatches. Our adventurous chaplain and a telegraphic operator wentwith the party. They ascended the river, cut the wires, and read thedespatches for an hour or two. Unfortunately, the attached wire was tooconspicuously hung, and was seen by a passenger on the railway train inpassing. The train was stopped and a swift stampede followed; a squad ofcavalry was sent in pursuit, and our chaplain, with Lieutenant Osborn, of Bryant's projected regiment, were captured; also one private, --thefirst of our men who had ever been taken prisoners. In spite of anagreement at Washington to the contrary, our chaplain was held asprisoner of war, the only spiritual adviser in uniform, so far as Iknow, who had that honor. I do not know but his reverence would haveagreed with Scott's pirate-lieutenant, that it was better to live asplain Jack Bunce than die as Frederick Altamont; but I am very sure thathe would rather have been kept prisoner to the close of the war, as acombatant, than have been released on parole as a non-resistant. 

After his return, I remember, he gave the most animated accounts of thewhole adventure, of which he had enjoyed every instant, from the firstentrance on the enemy's soil to the final capture. I suppose we shouldall like to tap the telegraphic wires anywhere and read our neighbor'smessages, if we could only throw round this process the dignity of aSacred Cause. This was what our good chaplain had done, with the sameconscientious zest with which he had conducted his Sunday foraging inFlorida. But he told me that nothing so impressed him on the whole tripas the sudden transformation in the black soldier who was taken prisonerwith him. The chaplain at once adopted the policy, natural to him, oftalking boldly and even defiantly to his captors, and commanding insteadof beseeching. He pursued the same policy always and gained by it, hethought. But the negro adopted the diametrically opposite policy, alsocongenial to his crushed race, --all the force seemed to go out of him, and he surrendered himself like a tortoise to be kicked and trodden uponat their will. This manly, well-trained soldier at once became aslave again, asked no questions, and, if any were asked, made meek andconciliatory answers. He did not know, nor did any of us know, whetherhe would be treated as a prisoner of war, or shot, or sent to arice-plantation. He simply acted according to the traditions of hisrace, as did the chaplain on his side. In the end the soldier's cunningwas vindicated by the result; he escaped, and rejoined us in six months, while the chaplain was imprisoned for a year. 

The men came back very much exhausted from this expedition, and thosewho were in the chaplain's squad narrowly escaped with their lives. Onebrave fellow had actually not a morsel to eat for four days, and thencould keep nothing on his stomach for two days more, so that his lifewas despaired of; and yet he brought all his equipments safe into camp. Some of these men had led such wandering lives, in woods and swamps, that to hunt them was like hunting an otter; shyness and concealment hadgrown to be their second nature. 

After these little episodes came two months of peace. We were clean, comfortable, quiet, and consequently discontented. It was therefore witheagerness that we listened to a rumor of a new Florida expedition, inwhich we might possibly take a hand. 

Chapter 11. Florida Again?

Let me revert once more to my diary, for a specimen of the sharp changesand sudden disappointments that may come to troops in service. But fora case or two of varioloid in the regiment, we should have taken part inthe battle of Olustee, and should have had (as was reported) the rightof the line. At any rate we should have shared the hard knocks and theglory, which were distributed pretty freely to the colored troopsthen and there. The diary will give, better than can any continuousnarrative, our ups and down of expectation in those days. 

"CAMP SHAW, BEAUFORT, S. C. , "February 7, 1864. 

"Great are the uncertainties of military orders! Since our recall fromJacksonville we have had no such surprises as came to us on Wednesdaynight. It was our third day of a new tour of duty at the picket station. We had just got nicely settled, --men well tented, with good floors, andin high spirits, officers at out-stations all happy, Mrs. ---- coming tostay with her husband, we at head-quarters just in order, house cleaned, moss-garlands up, camellias and jessamines in the tin wash-basins, baby in bliss;--our usual run of visitors had just set in, two Beaufortcaptains and a surgeon had just risen from a late dinner after a flagof truce, General Saxton and his wife had driven away but an hour or twobefore, we were all sitting about busy, with a great fire blazing, Mrs. D. Had just remarked triumphantly, 'Last time I had but a mouthful here, and now I shall be here three weeks'--when--

"In dropped, like a bombshell, a despatch announcing that we were to berelieved by the Eighth Maine, the next morning, as General Gillmore hadsent an order that we should be ready for departure from Beaufort at anymoment. 

"Conjectures, orders, packing, sending couriers to out-stations, werethe employments of the evening; the men received the news with cheers, and we all came in next morning. "

"February 11, 1864. 

"For three days we have watched the river, and every little steamboatthat comes up for coal brings out spy-glasses and conjectures, and'Dar's de Fourf New Hampshire, '--for when that comes, it is said, wego. Meanwhile we hear stirring news from Florida, and the men are veryimpatient to be off. It is remarkable how much more thoroughly they lookat things as soldiers than last year, and how much less as home-boundmen, --the South-Carolinians, I mean, for of course the Floridians wouldnaturally wish to go to Florida. 

"But in every way I see the gradual change in them, sometimes with asigh, as parents watch their children growing up and miss the drollspeeches and the confiding ignorance of childhood. Sometimes it comesover me with a pang that they are growing more like white men, --lessnaive and less grotesque. Still, I think there is enough of it to last, and that their joyous buoyancy, at least, will hold out while life does. 

"As for our destination, our greatest fear is of finding ourselvesposted at Hilton Head and going no farther. As a dashing Irish officerremarked the other day, 'If we are ordered away anywhere, I hope it willbe either to go to Florida or else stay here!'"

"Sublime uncertainties again!

"After being ordered in from picket, under marching orders; after thesubsequent ten days of uncertainty; after watching every steamboat thatcame up the river, to see if the Fourth New Hampshire was on board, --atlast the regiment came. 

"Then followed another break; there was no transportation to take us. Atlast a boat was notified. 

"Then General Saxton, as anxious to keep us as was the regiment togo, played his last card in small-pox, telegraphing to departmenthead-quarters that we had it dangerously in the regiment. (N. B. Allvarioloid, light at that, and besides, we always have it. )

"Then the order came to leave behind the sick and those who had beenpeculiarly exposed, and embark the rest next day. 

"Great was the jubilee! The men were up, I verily believe, by threein the morning, and by eight the whole camp was demolished or put inwagons, and we were on our way. The soldiers of the Fourth New Hampshireswarmed in; every board was swept away by them; there had been atime when colored boards (if I may delicately so express myself) wererepudiated by white soldiers, but that epoch had long since passed. I gave my new tent-frame, even the latch, to Colonel Bell; dittoLieutenant-Colonel to Lieutenant-Colonel. 

"Down we marched, the men singing 'John Brown' and 'Marching Along' and'Gwine in de Wilderness'; women in tears and smiles lined the way. Wehalted opposite the dear General's; we cheered, he speeched, I speeched, we all embraced symbolically, and cheered some more. Then we went towork at the wharf; vast wagon-loads of tents, rations, ordnance, andwhat-not disappeared in the capacious maw of the Delaware. In the midstof it all came riding down General Saxton with a despatch from HiltonHead:--

"'If you think the amount of small-pox in the First South CarolinaVolunteers sufficient, the order will be countermanded. '

"'What shall I say?' quoth the guilty General, perceiving howpreposterously too late the negotiation was reopened. 

"'Say, sir?' quoth I. 'Say that we are on board already and thesmall-pox left behind. Say we had only thirteen cases, chieflyvarioloid, and ten almost well. '

"Our blood was up with a tremendous morning's work done, and, ratherthan turn back, we felt ready to hold down Major-General Gillmore, commanding department, and all his staff upon the wharf, and vaccinatethem by main force. 

"So General Saxton rode away, and we worked away. Just as the lastwagon-load but one was being transferred to the omnivorous depths of theDelaware, --which I should think would have been filled ten times overwith what we had put into it, --down rode the General with a fiendish joyin his bright eyes and held out a paper, --one of the familiar rescriptsfrom headquarters. 

"'The marching orders of the First South Carolina Volunteers are herebycountermanded. '

"'Major Trowbridge, ' said I, 'will you give my compliments to LieutenantHooper, somewhere in the hold of that steamer, and direct him to sethis men at work to bring out every individual article which they havecarried hi. ' And I sat down on a pile of boards. 

"'You will return to your old camping-ground, Colonel, ' said theGeneral, placidly. 'Now, ' he added with serene satisfaction, 'we willhave some brigade drills!'

"Brigade drills! Since Mr. Pickwick, with his heartless tomato-sauce andwarming-pans, there had been nothing so aggravating as to try tosolace us, who were as good as on board ship and under way, --nay, inimagination as far up the St. John's as Pilatka at least, --with brigadedrills! It was very kind and flattering in him to wish to keep us. Butunhappily we had made up our minds to go. 

"Never did officer ride at the head of a battalion of more wobegone, spiritless wretches than I led back from Beaufort that day. 'When Imarch down to de landin', ' said one of the men afterwards, 'my knapsackfull of feathers. Comin' back, _he lead_!' And the lead, instead of thefeathers, rested on the heart of every one. 

"As if the disappointment itself were not sufficient, we had to returnto our pretty camp, accustomed to its drawing-room order, and find it adesert. Every board gone from the floors, the screens torn down from thepoles, all the little conveniences scattered, and, to crown all, a coldbreeze such as we had not known since New-Year's Day blowing across thecamp and flooding everything with dust. I sincerely hope the regimentwould never behave after a defeat as they behaved then. Every man seemedcrushed, officers and soldiers alike; when they broke ranks, theywent and lay down like sheep where their tents used to be, or wandereddisconsolately about, looking for their stray belongings. The scene wasso infinitely dolorous that it gradually put me in the highest spirits;the ludicrousness of the whole affair was so complete, there was nothingto do but laugh. The horrible dust blew till every officer had someblack spot on his nose which paralyzed pathos. Of course the onlyway was to set them all at work as soon as possible; and work them wedid, --I at the camp and the Major at the wharf, --loading and unloadingwagons and just reversing all which the morning had done. 

"The New Hampshire men were very considerate, and gave back most of whatthey had taken, though many of our men were really too delicate orproud to ask or even take what they had once given to soldiers or to thecolored people. I had no such delicacy about my tent-frame, and by nightthings had resumed something of their old aspect, and cheerfulnesswas in part restored. Yet long after this I found one first sergeantabsolutely in tears, --a Florida man, most of whose kindred were up theSt. John's. It was very natural that the men from that region shouldfeel thus bitterly, but it shows how much of the habit of soldiers theyhave all acquired, that the South Carolina men, who were leaving theneighborhood of their families for an indefinite time, were just aseager to go, and not one deserted, though they knew it for a weekbeforehand. No doubt my precarious health makes it now easier for mepersonally to remain here--easier on reflection at least--than for theothers. At the same time Florida is fascinating, and offers not onlyadventure, but the command of a brigade. Certainly at the last momentthere was not a sacrifice I would not have made rather than wrenchmyself and others away from the expedition. We are, of course, thrownback into the old uncertainty, and if the small-pox subsides (and it isreally diminishing decidedly) we may yet come in at the wrong end of theFlorida affair. "

"February 19. 

"Not a bit of it! This morning the General has ridden up radiant, hasseen General Gillmore, who has decided not to order us to Florida atall, nor withdraw any of this garrison. Moreover, he says that allwhich is intended in Florida is done, --that there will be no advance toTallahassee, and General Seymour will establish a camp of instruction inJacksonville. Well, if that is all, it is a lucky escape. "

We little dreamed that on that very day the march toward Olustee wasbeginning. The battle took place next day, and I add one more extract toshow how the news reached Beaufort. 

"February 23, 1864. 

"There was the sound of revelry by night at a ball in Beaufort lastnight, in a new large building beautifully decorated. All the collectedflags of the garrison hung round and over us, as if the stars andstripes were devised for an ornament alone. The array of uniforms wassuch that a civilian became a distinguished object, much more a lady. All would have gone according to the proverbial marriage-bell, Isuppose, had there not been a slight palpable shadow over all of us fromhearing vague stories of a lost battle in Florida, and from the thoughtthat perhaps the very ambulances in which we rode to the ball were oursonly until the wounded or the dead might tenant them. 

"General Gillmore only came, I supposed, to put a good face upon thematter. He went away soon, and General Saxton went; then came a rumorthat the Cosmopolitan had actually arrived with wounded, but still thedance went on. There was nothing unfeeling about it, --one gets usedto things, --when suddenly, in the midst of the 'Lancers, ' there came aperfect hush, the music ceasing, a few surgeons went hastily to and fro, as if conscience-stricken (I should think they might have been), --thenthere 'waved a mighty shadow in, ' as in Uhland's 'Black Knight, ' andas we all stood wondering we were 'ware of General Saxton, who strodehastily down the hall, his pale face very resolute, and looking almostsick with anxiety. He had just been on board the steamer; there were twohundred and fifty wounded men just arrived, and the ball must end. Notthat there was anything for us to do; but the revel was mistimed, and must be ended; it was wicked to be dancing, with such a scene ofsuffering near by. 

"Of course the ball was instantly broken up, though with somemurmurings and some longings of appetite, on the part of some, towardthe wasted supper. 

"Later, I went on board the boat. Among the long lines of wounded, blackand white intermingled, there was the wonderful quiet which usuallyprevails on such occasions. Not a sob nor a groan, except from thoseundergoing removal. It is not self-control, but chiefly the shock to thesystem produced by severe wounds, especially gunshot wounds, and whichusually keeps the patient stiller at first than any later time. 

"A company from my regiment waited on the wharf, in their accustomeddusky silence, and I longed to ask them what they thought of our Floridadisappointment now? In view of what they saw, did they still wish we hadbeen there? I confess that in presence of all that human suffering, Icould not wish it. But I would not have suggested any such thought tothem. 

"I found our kind-hearted ladies, Mrs. Chamberlin and Mrs. Dewhurst, onboard the steamer, but there was nothing for them to do, and we walkedback to camp in the radiant moonlight; Mrs. Chamberlin more than everstrengthened in her blushing woman's philosophy, 'I don't care who winsthe laurels, provided we don't!'"

"February 29. 

"But for a few trivial cases of varioloid, we should certainly have beenin that disastrous fight. We were confidently expected for several daysat Jacksonville, and the commanding general told Colonel Hallowell thatwe, being the oldest colored regiment, would have the right of the line. This was certainly to miss danger and glory very closely. "

Chapter 12. The Negro as a Soldier

There was in our regiment a very young recruit, named Sam Roberts, ofwhom Trowbridge used to tell this story. Early in the war Trowbridge hadbeen once sent to Amelia Island with a squad of men, under direction ofCommodore Goldsborough, to remove the negroes from the island. As theofficers stood on the beach, talking to some of the older freedmen, theysaw this urchin peeping at them from front and rear in a scrutinizingway, for which his father at last called him to account, as thus:--

"Hi! Sammy, what you's doin', chile?"

"Daddy, " said the inquisitive youth, "don't you know mas'r tell usYankee hab tail? I don't see no tail, daddy!"

There were many who went to Port Royal during the war, in civil ormilitary positions, whose previous impressions of the colored race wereabout as intelligent as Sam's view of themselves. But, for once, I hadalways had so much to do with fugitive slaves, and had studied the wholesubject with such interest, that I found not much to learn or unlearn asto this one point. Their courage I had before seen tested; their docileand lovable qualities I had known; and the only real surprise thatexperience brought me was in finding them so little demoralized. I hadnot allowed for the extreme remoteness and seclusion of their lives, especially among the Sea Islands. Many of them had literally spent theirwhole existence on some lonely island or remote plantation, where themaster never came, and the overseer only once or twice a week. Withthese exceptions, such persons had never seen a white face, and of theexcitements or sins of larger communities they had not a conception. Myfriend Colonel Hallo-well, of the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts, toldme that he had among his men some of the worst reprobates of Northerncities. While I had some men who were unprincipled and troublesome, there was not one whom I could call a hardened villain. I was constantlyexpecting to find male Topsies, with no notions of good and plenty ofevil. But I never found one. Among the most ignorant there was veryoften a childlike absence of vices, which was rather to be classed asinexperience than as innocence, but which had some of the advantages ofboth. 

Apart from this, they were very much like other men. General Saxton, examining with some impatience a long list of questions from somephilanthropic Commission at the North, respecting the traits andhabits of the freedmen, bade some staff-officer answer them all in twowords, --"Intensely human. " We all admitted that it was a striking andcomprehensive description. 

For instance, as to courage. So far as I have seen, the mass of men arenaturally courageous up to a certain point. A man seldom runs away fromdanger which he ought to face, unless others run; each is apt tokeep with the mass, and colored soldiers have more than usual of thisgregariousness. In almost every regiment, black or white, there are ascore or two of men who are naturally daring, who really hunger afterdangerous adventures, and are happiest when allowed to seek them. Everycommander gradually finds out who these men are, and habitually usesthem; certainly I had such, and I remember with delight their bearing, their coolness, and their dash. Some of them were negroes, somemulattoes. One of them would have passed for white, with brown hairand blue eyes, while others were so black you could hardly see theirfeatures. These picked men varied in other respects too; some wereneat and well-drilled soldiers, while others were slovenly, heedlessfellows, --the despair of their officers at inspection, their pride on araid. They were the natural scouts and rangers of the regiment; they hadthe two-o'clock-in-the-morning courage, which Napoleon thought so rare. The mass of the regiment rose to the same level under excitement, andwere more excitable, I think, than whites, but neither more nor lesscourageous. 

Perhaps the best proof of a good average of courage among them was inthe readiness they always showed for any special enterprise. I donot remember ever to have had the slightest difficulty in obtainingvolunteers, but rather in keeping down the number. The previous pagesinclude many illustrations of this, as well as of then: endurance ofpain and discomfort. For instance, one of my lieutenants, a very daringIrishman, who had served for eight years as a sergeant of regularartillery in Texas, Utah, and South Carolina, said he had never beenengaged in anything so risky as our raid up the St. Mary's. But in truthit seems to me a mere absurdity to deliberately argue the question ofcourage, as applied to men among whom I waked and slept, day and night, for so many months together. As well might he who has been wandering foryears upon the desert, with a Bedouin escort, discuss the courage of themen whose tents have been his shelter and whose spears his guard. We, their officers, did not go there to teach lessons, but to receive them. There were more than a hundred men in the ranks who had voluntarily metmore dangers in their escape from slavery than any of my young captainshad incurred in all their lives. 

There was a family named Wilson, I remember, of which we had severalrepresentatives. Three or four brothers had planned an escape from theinterior to our lines; they finally decided that the youngest shouldstay and take care of the old mother; the rest, with their sister andher children, came in a "dug-out" down one of the rivers. They werefired upon, again and again, by the pickets along the banks, untilfinally every man on board was wounded; and still they got safelythrough. When the bullets began to fly about them, the woman shed tears, and her little girl of nine said to her, "Don't cry, mother, Jesus willhelp you, " and then the child began praying as the wounded men stillurged the boat along. This the mother told me, but I had previouslyheard it from on officer who was on the gunboat that picked themup, --a big, rough man, whose voice fairly broke as he described theirappearance. He said that the mother and child had been hid for ninemonths in the woods before attempting their escape, and the child wouldspeak to no one, --indeed, she hardly would when she came to our camp. She was almost white, and this officer wished to adopt her, but themother said, "I would do anything but that for _oonah_, " this beinga sort of Indian formation of the second-person-plural, such as theysometimes use. This same officer afterwards saw a reward offered forthis family in a Savannah paper. 

I used to think that I should not care to read "Uncle Tom's Cabin" hiour camp; it would have seemed tame. Any group of men in a tent wouldhave had more exciting tales to tell. I needed no fiction when I hadFanny Wright, for instance, daily passing to and fro before my tent, with her shy little girl clinging to her skirts. Fanny was a modestlittle mulatto woman, a soldier's wife, and a company laundress. She hadescaped from the main-land in a boat, with that child and another. Herbaby was shot dead in her arms, and she reached our lines with one childsafe on earth and the other in heaven. I never found it needful to giveany elementary instructions in courage to Fanny's husband, you may besure. 

There was another family of brothers in the regiment named Miller. Theirgrandmother, a fine-looking old woman, nearly seventy, I should think, but erect as a pine-tree, used sometimes to come and visit them. She andher husband had once tried to escape from a plantation near Savannah. They had failed, and had been brought back; the husband had receivedfive hundred lashes, and while the white men on the plantationwere viewing the punishment, she was collecting her children andgrandchildren, to the number of twenty-two, in a neighboring marsh, preparatory to another attempt that night. They found a flat-boat whichhad been rejected as unseaworthy, got on board, --still under the oldwoman's orders, --and drifted forty miles down the river to our lines. Trowbridge happened to be on board the gunboat which picked them up, and he said that when the "flat" touched the side of the vessel, thegrandmother rose to her full height, with her youngest grandchild in herarms, and said only, "My God! are we free?" By one of those coincidencesof which life is full, her husband escaped also, after his punishment, and was taken up by the same gunboat. 

I hardly need point out that my young lieutenants did not have to teachthe principles of courage to this woman's grandchildren. 

I often asked myself why it was that, with this capacity of daringand endurance, they had not kept the land in a perpetual flame ofinsurrection; why, especially since the opening of the war, they hadkept so still. The answer was to be found in the peculiar temperament ofthe races, in their religious faith, and in the habit of patience thatcenturies had fortified. The shrewder men all said substantially thesame thing. What was the use of insurrection, where everything wasagainst them? They had no knowledge, no money, no arms, no drill, noorganization, --above all, no mutual confidence. It was the traditionamong them that all insurrections were always betrayed by somebody. They had no mountain passes to defend like the Maroons of Jamaica, --nounpenetrable swamps, like the Maroons of Surinam. Where they had these, even on a small scale, they had used them, --as in certain swamps roundSavannah and in the everglades of Florida, where they united with theIndians, and would stand fire--so I was told by General Saxton, who hadfought them there--when the Indians would retreat. 

It always seemed to me that, had I been a slave, my life would have beenone long scheme of insurrection. But I learned to respect the patientself-control of those who had waited till the course of events shouldopen a better way. When it came they accepted it. Insurrection on theirpart would at once have divided the Northern sentiment; and a large partof our army would have joined with the Southern army to hunt them down. By their waiting till we needed them, their freedom was secured. 

Two things chiefly surprised me in their feeling toward their formermasters, --the absence of affection and the absence of revenge. Iexpected to find a good deal of the patriarchal feeling. It alwaysseemed to me a very ill-applied emotion, as connected with the facts andlaws of American slavery, --still I expected to find it. I suppose thatmy men and their families and visitors may have had as much of it asthe mass of freed slaves; but certainly they had not a particle. Inever could cajole one of them, in his most discontented moment, intoregretting "ole mas'r time" for a single instant. I never heard onespeak of the masters except as natural enemies. Yet they were perfectlydiscriminating as to individuals; many of them claimed to have had kindowners, and some expressed great gratitude to them for particular favorsreceived. It was not the individuals, but the ownership, of which theycomplained. That they saw to be a wrong which no special kindnessescould right. On this, as on all points connected with slavery, theyunderstood the matter as clearly as Garrison or Phillips; the wisestphilosophy could teach them nothing as to that, nor could any falsephilosophy befog them. After all, personal experience is the bestlogician. 

Certainly this indifference did not proceed from any want of personalaffection, for they were the most affectionate people among whom I hadever lived. They attached themselves to every officer who deserved love, and to some who did not; and if they failed to show it to their masters, it proved the wrongfulness of the mastery. On the other hand, theyrarely showed one gleam of revenge, and I shall never forget theself-control with which one of our best sergeants pointed out to me, atJacksonville, the very place where one of his brothers had been hangedby the whites for leading a party of fugitive slaves. He spoke of it asa historic matter, without any bearing on the present issue. 

But side by side with this faculty of patience, there was a certaintropical element in the men, a sort of fiery ecstasy when aroused, which seemed to link them by blood with the French Turcos, and madethem really resemble their natural enemies, the Celts, far more thanthe Anglo-Saxon temperament. To balance this there were great individualresources when alone, --a sort of Indian wiliness and subtlety ofresource. Their gregariousness and love of drill made them more easy tokeep in hand than white American troops, who rather like to straggle orgo in little squads, looking out for themselves, without being botheredwith officers. The blacks prefer organization. 

The point of inferiority that I always feared, though I never hadoccasion to prove it, was that they might show less fibre, less toughand dogged resistance, than whites, during a prolonged trial, --a long, disastrous march, for instance, or the hopeless defence of a besiegedtown. I should not be afraid of their mutinying or running away, but oftheir drooping and dying. It might not turn out so; but I mention itfor the sake of fairness, and to avoid overstating the merits of thesetroops. As to the simple general fact of courage and reliability Ithink no officer in our camp ever thought of there being any differencebetween black and white. And certainly the opinions of these officers, who for years risked their lives every moment on the fidelity of theirmen, were worth more than those of all the world beside. 

No doubt there were reasons why this particular war was an especiallyfavorable test of the colored soldiers. They had more to fight for thanthe whites. Besides the flag and the Union, they had home and wife andchild. They fought with ropes round their necks, and when orders wereissued that the officers of colored troops should be put to death oncapture, they took a grim satisfaction. It helped their _esprit decorps_ immensely. With us, at least, there was to be no play-soldier. Though they had begun with a slight feeling of inferiority to the whitetroops, this compliment substituted a peculiar sense of self-respect. And even when the new colored regiments began to arrive from the Northmy men still pointed out this difference, --that in case of ultimatedefeat, the Northern troops, black or white, would go home, while theFirst South Carolina must fight it out or be re-enslaved. This was onething that made the St. John's River so attractive to them and even tome;--it was so much nearer the everglades. I used seriously to ponder, during the darker periods of the war, whether I might not end my days asan outlaw, --a leader of Maroons. 

Meanwhile, I used to try to make some capital for the Northern troops, in their estimate, by pointing out that it was a disinterested thing inthese men from the free States, to come down there and fight, that theslaves might be free. But they were apt keenly to reply, that many ofthe white soldiers disavowed this object, and said that that was notthe object of the war, nor even likely to be its end. Some of them evenrepeated Mr. Seward's unfortunate words to Mr. Adams, which some generalhad been heard to quote. So, on the whole, I took nothing by the motion, as was apt to be the case with those who spoke a good word for ourGovernment, in those vacillating and half proslavery days. 

At any rate, this ungenerous discouragement had this good effect, thatit touched their pride; they would deserve justice, even if they didnot obtain it. This pride was afterwards severely tested during thedisgraceful period when the party of repudiation in Congress temporarilydeprived them of their promised pay. In my regiment the men nevermutinied, nor even threatened mutiny; they seemed to make it a matter ofhonor to do then: part, even if the Government proved a defaulter;but one third of them, including the best men in the regiment, quietlyrefused to take a dollar's pay, at the reduced price. "We'se gib oursogerin' to de Guv'ment, Gunnel, " they said, "but we won't 'spiseourselves so much for take de seben dollar. " They even made acontemptuous ballad, of which I once caught a snatch. 

 "Ten dollar a month! Tree ob dat for clothin'l Go to Washington Fight for Linkum's darter!"

This "Lincoln's daughter" stood for the Goddess of Liberty, it wouldseem. They would be true to her, but they would not take the half-pay. This was contrary to my advice, and to that of other officers; but Inow think it was wise. Nothing less than this would have called theattention of the American people to this outrageous fraud. *

* See Appendix. 

The same slow forecast had often marked their action in other ways. Oneof our ablest sergeants, Henry Mclntyre, who had earned two dollars anda half per day as a master-carpenter in Florida, and paid one dollar anda half to his master, told me that he had deliberately refrained fromlearning to read, because that knowledge exposed the slaves to so muchmore watching and suspicion. This man and a few others had built oncontract the greater part of the town of Micanopy in Florida, and was athriving man when his accustomed discretion failed for once, and he lostall. He named his child William Lincoln, and it brought upon him suchsuspicion that he had to make his escape. 

I cannot conceive what people at the North mean by speaking of thenegroes as a bestial or brutal race. Except in some insensibility toanimal pain, I never knew of an act in my regiment which I should callbrutal. In reading Kay's "Condition of the English Peasantry" I wasconstantly struck with the unlikeness of my men to those thereindescribed. This could not proceed from my prejudices as an abolitionist, for they would have led me the other way, and indeed I had once writtena little essay to show the brutalizing influences of slavery. I learnedto think that we abolitionists had underrated the suffering producedby slavery among the negroes, but had overrated the demoralization. Orrather, we did not know how the religious temperament of the negroeshad checked the demoralization. Yet again, it must be admitted that thistemperament, born of sorrow and oppression, is far more marked in theslave than in the native African. 

Theorize as we may, there was certainly in our camp an average tone ofpropriety which all visitors noticed, and which was not created, butonly preserved by discipline. I was always struck, not merely by thecourtesy of the men, but also by a certain sober decency of language. If a man had to report to me any disagreeable fact, for instance, hewas sure to do it with gravity and decorum, and not blurt it out in anoffensive way. And it certainly was a significant fact that the ladiesof our camp, when we were so fortunate as to have such guests, the youngwives, especially, of the adjutant and quartermaster, used to go amongthe tents when the men were off duty, in order to hear their big pupilsread and spell, without the slightest fear of annoyance. I do not meandirect annoyance or insult, for no man who valued his life would haveventured that in presence of the others, but I mean the annoyance ofaccidentally seeing or hearing improprieties not intended for them. Theyboth declared that they would not have moved about with anything likethe same freedom in any white camp they had ever entered, and italways roused their indignation to hear the negro race called brutal ordepraved. 

This came partly from natural good manners, partly from the habit ofdeference, partly from ignorance of the refined and ingenious evil whichis learned in large towns; but a large part came from their stronglyreligious temperament. Their comparative freedom from swearing, for instance, --an abstinence which I fear military life did notstrengthen, --was partly a matter of principle. Once I heard one of themsay to another, in a transport of indignation, "Ha-a-a, boy, s'pose I nobe a Christian, I cuss you sol"--which was certainly drawing pretty hardupon the bridle. "Cuss, " however, was a generic term for all mannerof evil speaking; they would say, "He cuss me fool, " or "He cussme coward, " as if the essence of propriety were in harsh and angryspeech, --which I take to be good ethics. But certainly, if Uncle Tobycould have recruited his army in Flanders from our ranks, their swearingwould have ceased to be historic. 

It used to seem to me that never, since Cromwell's time, had there beensoldiers in whom the religious element held such a place. "A religiousarmy, " "a gospel army, " were their frequent phrases. In theirprayer-meetings there was always a mingling, often quaint enough, ofthe warlike and the pious. "If each one of us was a praying man, " saidCorporal Thomas Long in a sermon, "it appears to me that we could fightas well with prayers as with bullets, --for the Lord has said that if youhave faith even as a grain of mustard-seed cut into four parts, youcan say to the sycamore-tree, Arise, and it will come up. " And thoughCorporal Long may have got a little perplexed in his botany, his faithproved itself by works, for he volunteered and went many miles on asolitary scouting expedition into the enemy's country in Florida, andgot back safe, after I had given him up for lost. 

The extremes of religious enthusiasm I did not venture to encourage, forI could not do it honestly; neither did I discourage them, but simplytreated them with respect, and let them have their way, so long as theydid not interfere with discipline. In general they promoted it. Themischievous little drummer-boys, whose scrapes and quarrels were thetorment of my existence, might be seen kneeling together in their tentsto say their prayers at night, and I could hope that their slumbers wereblessed by some spirit of peace, such as certainly did not rule overtheir waking. The most reckless and daring fellows in the regiment wereperfect fatalists in theur confidence that God would watch over them, and that if they died, it would be because theur time had come. Thisalmost excessive faith, and the love of freedom and of their families, all co-operated with their pride as soldiers to make them do their duty. I could not have spared any of these incentives. Those of our officerswho were personally the least influenced by such considerations, stillsaw the need of encouraging them among the men. 

I am bound to say that this strongly devotional turn was not alwaysaccompanied by the practical virtues; but neither was it strikinglydivorced from them. A few men, I remember, who belonged to the ancientorder of hypocrites, but not many. Old Jim Cushman was our favoriterepresentative scamp. He used to vex his righteous soul over theadmission of the unregenerate to prayer-meetings, and went off onceshaking his head and muttering, "Too much goat shout wid de sheep. " Buthe who objected to this profane admixture used to get our mess-funds farmore hopelessly mixed with his own, when he went out to buy chickens. And I remember that, on being asked by our Major, in that semi-Ethiopiandialect into which we sometimes slid, "How much wife you got, Jim?" theveteran replied, with a sort of penitence for lost opportunities, "On'ybut four, Sah!"

Another man of somewhat similar quality went among us by the name ofHenry Ward Beecher, from a remarkable resemblance in face and figure tothat sturdy divine. I always felt a sort of admiration for this worthy, because of the thoroughness with which he outwitted me, and the sublimeimpudence in which he culminated. He got a series of passes from me, every week or two, to go and see his wife on a neighboring plantation, and finally, when this resource seemed exhausted, he came boldly for onemore pass, that he might go and be married. 

We used to quote _him_ a good deal, also, as a sample of a certainShakespearian boldness of personification in which the men sometimesindulged. Once, I remember, his captain had given him a fowling-pieceto clean. Henry Ward had left it in the captain's tent, and the latter, finding it, had transferred the job to some one else. 

Then came a confession, in this precise form, with many dignifiedgesticulations:--

"Cappen! I took dat gun, and I put bun in Cappen tent. Den I look, and de gun not dar! Den Conscience say, Cappen mus' hab gib dat gun tosomebody else for clean. Den I say, Conscience, you reason correck. "

Compare Lancelot Gobbo's soliloquy in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona"!

Still, I maintain that, as a whole, the men were remarkably free frominconvenient vices. There was no more lying and stealing than in averagewhite regiments. The surgeon was not much troubled by shamming sickness, and there were not a great many complaints of theft. There was lessquarrelling than among white soldiers, and scarcely ever an instance ofdrunkenness. Perhaps the influence of their officers had something to dowith this; for not a ration of whiskey was ever issued to the men, nordid I ever touch it, while in the army, nor approve a requisition forany of the officers, without which it could not easily be obtained. Inthis respect our surgeons fortunately agreed with me, and we neverhad reason to regret it. I believe the use of ardent spirits to beas useless and injurious in the army as on board ship, and among thecolored troops, especially, who had never been accustomed to it, I thinkthat it did only harm. 

The point of greatest laxity in their moral habits--the want of a highstandard of chastity--was not one which affected their camp life to anygreat extent, and it therefore came less under my observation. But Ifound to my relief that, whatever their deficiency in this respect, itwas modified by the general quality of their temperament, and indicatedrather a softening and relaxation than a hardening and brutalizing oftheir moral natures. Any insult or violence in this direction was athing unknown. I never heard of an instance. It was not uncommon formen to have two or three wives in different plantations, --the second, or remoter, partner being called a "'broad wife, "--i. E. Wife abroad. But the whole tendency was toward marriage, and this state of things wasonly regarded as a bequest from "mas'r time. "

I knew a great deal about their marriages, for they often consulted me, and took my counsel as lovers are wont to do, --that is, when it pleasedtheir fancy. Sometimes they would consult their captains first, and thencome to me in despairing appeal. "Cap'n Scroby [Trowbridge] he acviseme not for marry dis lady, 'cause she hab seben chil'en. What for use?Cap'n Scroby can't lub for me. I mus' lub for myself, and I lub he. " Iremember that on this occasion "he" stood by, a most unattractive woman, jet black, with an old pink muslin dress, torn white cotton gloves, anda very flowery bonnet, that must have descended through generations oftawdry mistresses. 

I felt myself compelled to reaffirm the decision of the inferior court. The result was as usual. They were married the next day, and I believethat she proved an excellent wife, though she had seven children, whosefather was also in the regiment. If she did not, I know many otherswho did, and certainly I have never seen more faithful or more happymarriages than among that people. 

The question was often asked, whether the Southern slaves or theNorthern free blacks made the best soldiers. It was a compliment to bothclasses that each officer usually preferred those whom he had personallycommanded. I preferred those who had been slaves, for their greaterdocility and affectionateness, for the powerful stimulus which their newfreedom gave, and for the fact that they were fighting, in a manner, for their own homes and firesides. Every one of these considerationsafforded a special aid to discipline, and cemented a peculiar tie ofsympathy between them and their officers. They seemed like clansmen, and had a more confiding and filial relation to us than seemed to me toexist in the Northern colored regiments. 

So far as the mere habits of slavery went, they were a poor preparationfor military duty. Inexperienced officers often assumed that, becausethese men had been slaves before enlistment, they would bear to betreated as such afterwards. Experience proved the contrary. The morestrongly we marked the difference between the slave and the soldier, thebetter for the regiment. One half of military duty lies in obedience, the other half in self-respect. A soldier without self-respect isworthless. Consequently there were no regiments in which it was soimportant to observe the courtesies and proprieties of military lifeas in these. I had to caution the officers to be more than usuallyparticular in returning the salutations of the men; to be very carefulin their dealings with those on picket or guard-duty; and on no accountto omit the titles of the non-commissioned officers. So, in dealingout punishments, we had carefully to avoid all that was brutal andarbitrary, all that savored of the overseer. Any such dealing found themas obstinate and contemptuous as was Topsy when Miss Ophelia undertookto chastise her. A system of light punishments, rigidly administeredaccording to the prescribed military forms, had more weight with themthan any amount of angry severity. To make them feel as remote aspossible from the plantation, this was essential. By adhering to this, and constantly appealing to their pride as soldiers and their sense ofduty, we were able to maintain a high standard of discipline, --so, atleast, the inspecting officers said, --and to get rid, almost entirely, of the more degrading class of punishments, --standing on barrels, tyingup by the thumbs, and the ball and chain. 

In all ways we had to educate their self-respect. For instance, at firstthey disliked to obey their own non-commissioned officers. "I don't wanthim to play de white man ober me, " was a sincere objection. They hadbeen so impressed with a sense of inferiority that the distinctionextended to the very principles of honor. "I ain't got colored-manprinciples, " said Corporal London Simmons, indignantly defending himselffrom some charge before me. "I'se got white-gemman principles. I'se domy best. If Cap'n tell me to take a man, s'pose de man be as big asa house, I'll clam hold on him till I die, inception [excepting] I'msick. "

But it was plain that this feeling was a bequest of slavery, whichmilitary life would wear off. We impressed it upon them that they didnot obey their officers because they were white, but because they weretheir officers, just as the Captain must obey me, and I the General;that we were all subject to military law, and protected by it inturn. Then we taught them to take pride in having good material fornoncommissioned officers among themselves, and in obeying them. Onmy arrival there was one white first sergeant, and it was a questionwhether to appoint others. This I prevented, but left that one, hopingthe men themselves would at last petition for his removal, whichat length they did. He was at once detailed on other duty. Thepicturesqueness of the regiment suffered, for he was very tall and fair, and I liked to see him step forward in the centre when the line of firstsergeants came together at dress-parade. But it was a help to disciplineto eliminate the Saxon, for it recognized a principle. 

Afterwards I had excellent battalion-drills without a single whiteofficer, by way of experiment; putting each company under a sergeant, and going through the most difficult movements, such as division-columnsand oblique-squares. And as to actual discipline, it is doing noinjustice to the line-officers of the regiment to say that none ofthem received from the men more implicit obedience than Color-SergeantRivers. I should have tried to obtain commissions for him and severalothers before I left the regiment, had their literary education beensufficient; and such an attempt was finally made by Lieutenant-ColonelTrowbridge, my successor in immediate command, but it provedunsuccessful. It always seemed to me an insult to those brave men tohave novices put over their heads, on the ground of color alone; and themen felt it the more keenly as they remained longer in service. Therewere more than seven hundred enlisted men in the regiment, when musteredout after more than three years' service. The ranks had been kept fullby enlistment, but there were only fourteen line-officers instead of thefull thirty. The men who should have filled those vacancies were doingduty as sergeants in the ranks. 

In what respect were the colored troops a source of disappointment? Tome in one respect only, --that of health. Their health improved, indeed, as they grew more familiar with military life; but I think that neithertheir physical nor moral temperament gave them that toughness, thatobstinate purpose of living, which sustains the more materialisticAnglo-Saxon. They had not, to be sure, the same predominant diseases, suffering in the pulmonary, not in the digestive organs; but theysuffered a good deal. They felt malaria less, but they were moreeasily choked by dust and made ill by dampness. On the other hand, they submitted more readily to sanitary measures than whites, and, with efficient officers, were more easily kept clean. They were injuredthroughout the army by an undue share of fatigue duty, which is not onlyexhausting but demoralizing to a soldier; by the un-suitableness of therations, which gave them salt meat instead of rice and hominy; andby the lack of good medical attendance. Their childlike constitutionspeculiarly needed prompt and efficient surgical care; but almost all thecolored troops were enlisted late in the war, when it was hard to getgood surgeons for any regiments, and especially for these. In thisrespect I had nothing to complain of, since there were no surgeons inthe army for whom I would have exchanged my own. 

And this late arrival on the scene affected not only the medicalsupervision of the colored troops, but their opportunity for a career. It is not my province to write their history, nor to vindicate them, nor to follow them upon those larger fields compared with which theadventures of my regiment appear but a partisan warfare. Yet this, atleast, may be said. The operations on the South Atlantic coast, whichlong seemed a merely subordinate and incidental part of the greatcontest, proved to be one of the final pivots on which it turned. Allnow admit that the fate of the Confederacy was decided by Sherman'smarch to the sea. Port Royal was the objective point to which hemarched, and he found the Department of the South, when he reached it, held almost exclusively by colored troops. Next to the merit of thosewho made the march was that of those who held open the door. Thatservice will always remain among the laurels of the black regiments. 

Chapter 13. Conclusion

My personal forebodings proved to be correct, and so were the threatsof the surgeons. In May, 1864, I went home invalided, was compelled toresign in October from the same cause, and never saw the First SouthCarolina again. Nor did any one else see it under that appellation, forabout that time its name was changed to the Thirty-Third United StatesColored Troops, "a most vague and heartless baptism, " as the man in thestory says. It was one of those instances of injudicious sacrifice of_esprit de corps_ which were so frequent in our army. All the pride ofmy men was centred in "de Fus' Souf"; the very words were a recognitionof the loyal South as against the disloyal. To make the matter worse, ithad been originally designed to apply the new numbering only to the newregiments, and so the early numbers were all taken up before the olderregiments came in. The governors of States, by especial effort, savedtheir colored troops from this chagrin; but we found here, as more thanonce before, the disadvantage of having no governor to stand by us. "It's a far cry to Loch Awe, " said the Highland proverb. We knew toour cost that it was a far cry to Washington in those days, unless anofficer left his duty and stayed there all the time. 

In June, 1864, the regiment was ordered to Folly Island, and remainedthere and on Cole's Island till the siege of Charleston was done. Ittook part in the battle of Honey Hill, and in the capture of a fort onJames Island, of which Corporal Robert Vendross wrote triumphantly in aletter, "When we took the pieces we found that we recapt our own piecesback that we lost on Willtown Revear (River) and thank the Lord did notlose but seven men out of our regiment. "

In February, 1865, the regiment was ordered to Charleston to do provostand guard duty, in March to Savannah, in June to Hamburg and Aiken, inSeptember to Charleston and its neighborhood, and was finally musteredout of service--after being detained beyond its three years, so greatwas the scarcity of troops--on the 9th of February, 1866. With dramaticfitness this muster-out took place at Fort Wagner, above the gravesof Shaw and his men. I give in the Appendix the farewell address ofLieutenant-Colonel Trowbridge, who commanded the regiment from the timeI left it. Brevet Brigadier-General W. T. Bennett, of the One Hundredand Second United States Colored Troops, who was assigned to thecommand, never actually held it, being always in charge of a brigade. 

The officers and men are scattered far and wide. One of our captainswas a member of the South Carolina Constitutional Convention, and isnow State Treasurer; three of our sergeants were in that Convention, including Sergeant Prince Rivers; and he and Sergeant Henry Hayneare still members of the State Legislature. Both in that State and hiFlorida the former members of the regiment are generally prospering, sofar as I can hear. The increased self-respect of army life fitted themto do the duties of civil life. It is not in nature that the jealousyof race should die out in this generation, but I trust they will not seethe fulfilment of Corporal Simon Cram's prediction. Simon was one of theshrewdest old fellows in the regiment, and he said to me once, as hewas jogging out of Beaufort behind me, on the Shell Road, "I'se goin'to leave de Souf, Cunnel, when de war is over. I'se made up my mind datdese yere Secesh will neber be cibilized in my time. "

The only member of the regiment whom I have seen since leaving it is ayoung man, Cyrus Wiggins, who was brought off from the main-land in adug-out, in broad day, before the very eyes of the rebel pickets, byCaptain James S. Rogers, of my regiment. It was one of the most daringacts I ever saw, and as it happened under my own observation I was gladwhen the Captain took home with him this "captive of his bow and spear"to be educated under his eye in Massachusetts. Cyrus has done creditto his friends, and will be satisfied with nothing short of acollege-training at Howard University. I have letters from the men, veryquaint in handwriting and spelling; but he is the only one whom I haveseen. Some time I hope to revisit those scenes, and shall feel, nodoubt, like a bewildered Rip Van Winkle who once wore uniform. 

We who served with the black troops have this peculiar satisfaction, that, whatever dignity or sacredness the memories of the war may have toothers, they have more to us. In that contest all the ordinary ties ofpatriotism were the same, of course, to us as to the rest; they had nomotives which we had not, as they have now no memories which are notalso ours. But the peculiar privilege of associating with an outcastrace, of training it to defend its rights and to perform its duties, this was our especial meed. The vacillating policy of the Governmentsometimes filled other officers with doubt and shame; until the negrohad justice, they were but defending liberty with one hand and crushingit with the other. From this inconsistency we were free. Whatever theGovernment did, we at least were working in the right direction. Ifthis was not recognized on our side of the lines, we knew that it wasadmitted on the other. Fighting with ropes round our necks, denied theordinary courtesies of war till we ourselves compelled then: concession, we could at least turn this outlawry into a compliment. We had touchedthe pivot of the war. Whether this vast and dusky mass should prove theweakness of the nation or its strength, must depend in great measure, we knew, upon our efforts. Till the blacks were armed, there was noguaranty of their freedom. It was their demeanor under arms that shamedthe nation into recognizing them as men. 

APPENDIX

Appendix A

Roster of Officers

FIRST SOUTH CAROLINA VOLUNTEERS, Afterwards Thirty-Third United States Colored Troops. 

Colonels

T. W. HIGGINSON, 51st Mass. Vols. , Nov. 10, 1862; Resigned, Oct. 27, 1864. WM. T. BENNETT, 102d U. S. C. T. , Dec. 18, 1864; Musteredout

with regiment

Lieutenant-Colonels

LIBERTY BILLINGS, Civil Life, Nov. 1, 1862; Dismissed by ExaminingBoard, July 28, 1863. 

JOHN D. STRONG, Promotion, July 28, 1863; Resigned, Aug. 15, 1864. 

CHAS. T. TROWBRIDGE, Promotion, Dec. 9, 1864; Mustered out, &c. 

Majors

JOHN D. STRONG, Civil Life, Oct. 21, 1862; Lt-Col. , July 28, 1863. CHAS. 

T. TROWBRIDGE, Promotion, Aug. 11, 1863; Lt. -Col. , Dec. 9, 1864. 

H. A. WHTTNEY, Promotion, Dec. 9, 1864; Mustered out, &c. 

Surgeons

SETH ROGERS, Civil Life, Dec. 2, 1862; Resigned, Dec. 21, 1863. 

WM. B. CRANDALL, 29th Ct, June 8, 1864; Mustered out, &c. 

Assistant Surgeons

J. M. HAWKS, Civil Life, Oct 20, 1862; Surgeon 3d S. C. Vols. , Oct. 29, 1863. 

THOS. T. MINOR, 7th Ct. , Jan. 8, 1863; Resigned, Nov. 21, 1864. 

E. S. STUARD, Civil Life, Sept. 4, 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

Chaplain

JAS. H. FOWLER, Civil Life, Oct. 24, 1862; Mustered out, &c. 

Captains

CHAS. T. TROWBRIDGE, N. Y. Vol. Eng. , Oct. 13, 1862; Major, Aug. 11, 1863. 

WM. JAMES, 100th Pa. , Oct. 13, 1862; Mustered out, &c. 

W. J. RANDOLPH, 100th Pa. , Oct. 13, 1862; Resigned, Jan. 29, 1864. 

H. A. WHITNEY, 8th Me. , Oct. 13, 1862; Major, Dec. 9, 1864. 

ALEX. HEASLEY, 100th Pa. , Oct 13, 1862; Killed at Augusta, Ga. , Sept. 6, 1865. 

GEORGE DOLLY, 8th Me. , Nov. 1, 1862; Resigned, Oct. 30, 1863. 

L. W. METCALF, 8th Me. , Nov. 11, 1862; Mustered out, &c. 

JAS. H. TONKING, N. Y. Vol. Eng. , Nov. 17, 1862; Resigned, July 28, 1863. 

JAS. S. ROGERS, 51st Mass. , Dec. 6, 1862; Resigned, Oct. 20, 1863. 

J. H. THIBADEAU, Promotion, Jan. 10, 1863; Mustered out, &c. 

GEORGE D. WALKER, Promotion, July 28, 1863; Resigned, Sept 1, 1864. 

WM. H. DANILSON, Promotion, July 28, 1863; Major 128th U. S. C. T. , May, 1865 [now 1st Lt 40th U. S. Infantry]. 

WM. W. SAMPSON, Promotion, Nov. 5, 1863; Mustered out, &c. 

JOHN M. THOMPSON, Promotion, Nov. 7, 1863; Mustered out, &c. [Now 1stLt. And Bvt Capt. 38th U. S. Infy. ]

ABR. W. JACKSON, Promotion, April 30, 1864; Resigned, Aug. 15, 1865. 

NILES G. PARKER, Promotion, Feb. , 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

CHAS. W. HOOPER, Promotion, Sept, 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

E. C. MERMAM, Promotion, Sept. , 1865; Resigned, Dec. 4, 1865. 

E. W. ROBBINS, Promotion, Nov. 1, 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

N. S. WHITE, Promotion, Nov. 18, 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

First Lieutenants

G. W. DEWHURST (Adjutant), Civil Life, Oct 20, 1862; Resigned, Aug. 31, 1865. 

J. M. BINOHAM (Quartermaster), Civil Life, Oct. 20, 1862; Died fromeffect of exhaustion on a military expedition, July 20, 1863. 

G. M. CHAMBERUN (Quartermaster), llth Mass. Battery, Aug. 29, 1863;Mustered out, &c. 

GEO. D. WALKER, N. Y. VoL Eng. , Oct 13, 1862; Captain, Aug. 11, 1863. 

W. H. DANILSON, 48th N. Y. , Oct 13, 1862; Captain, July 26, 1863. 

J. H. THTBADEAU, 8th Me. , Oct 13, 1862; Captain, Jan. 10, 1863. 

EPHRAIM P. WHITE, 8th Me. , Nov. 14, 1862; Resigned, March 9, 1864. 

JAS. POMEROY, 100th Pa. , Oct 13, 1862; Resigned, Feb. 9, 1863. 

JAS. F. JOHNSTON, 100th Pa. , Oct 13, 1862; Resigned, March 26, 1863. 

JESSE FISHER, 48th N. Y. , Oct 13, 1862; Resigned, Jan. 26, 1863. 

CHAS. I. DAVIS, 8th Me. , Oct 13, 1862; Resigned, Feb. 28, 1863. 

WM. STOCKDALE, 8th Me. , Oct 13, 1862; Resigned, May 2, 1863. 

JAS. B. O'NEIL, Promotion, Jan. 10, 1863; Resigned, May 2, 1863. 

W. W. SAMPSON, Promotion, Jan. 10, 1863; Captain, Oct 30, 1863. J. M. THOMPSON, Promotion, Jan. 27, 1863; Captain, Oct. 30, 1863. R. M. GASTON, Promotion, April 15, 1863; Killed at Coosaw Ferry, S. C. , May 27, 1863. 

JAS. B. WEST, Promotion, Feb. 28, 1863; Resigned, June 14, 1865. 

N. G. PARKER, Promotion, May 5, 1863; Captain, Feb. , 1865. 

W. H. HYDE, Promotion, May 5, 1863; Resigned, April 3, 1865. 

HENRY A. STONE, 8th Me. , June 26, 1863; Resigned, Dec. 16, 1864. 

J. A. TROWBRTDGE, Promotion, Aug. 11, 1863; Resigned, Nov. 29, 1864. 

A. W. JACKSON, Promotion, Aug. 26, 1863; Captain, April 30, 1864. 

CHAS. E. PARKER, Promotion, Aug. 26, 1863; Resigned, Nov. 29, 1864. 

CHAS. W. HOOPER, Promotion, Nov. 8, 1863; Captain, Sept. , 1865. 

E. C. MERRIAM, Promotion, Nov. 19, 1863; Captain, Sept. , 1865. 

HENRY A. BEACH, Promotion, April 30, 1864; Resigned, Sept 23, 1864. 

E. W. ROBBINS, Promotion, April 30, 1864; Captain, Nov. 1, 1865. 

ASA CHILD, Promotion, Sept, 1865; Mastered out, &c. 

N. S. WHITE, Promotion, Sept, 1865; Captain, Nov. 18, 1865. 

F. S. GOODRICH, Promotion, Oct. , 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

E. W. HYDE, Promotion, Oct 27, 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

HENRY WOOD, Promotion, Nov. , 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

Second Lieutenants

J. A. TROWBMDGE, N. Y. Vol. Eng. , Oct 13, 1862; First Lt, Aug. 11, 1863. 

JAS. B. O-NBIL, 1st U. S. Art'y, Oct 13, 1862; First Lt, Jan. 10, 1863. 

W. W. SAMPSON, 8th Me. , Oct 13, 1862; First Lt, Jan 10, 1863. 

J. M. THOMPSON, 7th N. H. , Oct 13, 1862; First Lt, Jan. 27, 1863. 

R. M. GASTON, 100th Pa. , Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt, April 15, 1863. 

W. H. HYDE, 6th Ct, Oct 13, 1862; First Lt, May 5, 1863. 

JAS. B. WEST, 100th Pa. , Oct. 13. 1862; First Lt, Feb. 28, 1863. 

HARRY C. WEST, 100th Pa. , Oct 13, 1862; Resigned, Nov. 4, 1864. 

E. C. MERRIAM, 8th Me. , Nov. 17, 1862; First Lt. , Nov. 19, 1863. 

CHAS. E. PARKER, 8th Me. , Nov. 17, 1862; First Lt, Aug. 26, 1863. 

C. W. HOOPER, N. Y. Vol. Eng. , Feb. 17, 1863; First Lt, April 15, 1863. 

N. G. PARKER, 1st Mass. Cavalry, March, 1863; First Lt, May 5, 1863. 

A. H. TIRRELL, 1st Mass. Cav. , March 6, 1863; Resigned, July 22, 1863. 

A. W. JACKSON, 8th Me. , March 6, 1863; First Lt, Aug. 26, 1863. 

HENRY A. BEACH, 48th N. Y. , April 5, 1863; First Lt, April 30, 1864. 

E. W. ROBBINS, 8th Me. , April 5, 1863; First Lt, April 30, 1864. 

A. B. BROWN, Civil Life, April 17, 1863; Resigned, Nov. 27, 1863. 

F. M. GOULD, 3d R. I. Battery, June 1, 1863; Resigned, June 8, 1864. 

ASA CHILD, 8th Me. , Aug. 7, 1863; First Lt, Sept. , 1865. 

JEROME T. FURMAN, 52d Pa. , Aug. 30, 1863; Killed at Walhalla, S. C. , Aug. 26, 1865. 

JOHN W. SELVAGE, 48th N. Y. , Sept 10, 1863; First Lt. 36th U. S. C. T. , March, 1865. 

MIRAND W. SAXTON, Civil Life, Nov. 19, 1863; Captain 128th U. S. C. T. , June 25, 1864 [now Second Lt 38th U. S. Infantry]. 

NELSON S. WHITE, Dec. 22, 1863; First Lt, Sept. , 1865. 

EDW. W. HYDE, Civil Life, May 4, 1864; First Lt, Oct. 27, 1865. 

F. S. GOODRICH, 115th N. Y. , May, 1864; First Lt. , Oct. , 1865. 

B. H. MANNING, Aug. 11, 1864; Capt 128th U. S. C. T. , March 17, 1865. 

R. M. DAVIS, 4th Mass. Cavalry, Nov. 19, 1864; Capt. 104th U. S. C. T. , May 11, 1865. 

HENRY WOOD, N. Y. Vol. Eng. , Aug. , 1865; First Lt, Nov. , 1865. 

JOHN M. SEAKLES, 1st N. Y. Mounted Rifles, June 15, 1865; Mustered out, &c. 

Appendix B The First Black Soldiers

It is well known that the first systematic attempt to organize coloredtroops during the war of the rebellion was the so-called "HunterRegiment. " The officer originally detailed to recruit for this purposewas Sergeant C. T. Trowbridge, of the New York Volunteer Engineers (Col. Serrell). His detail was dated May 7, 1862, S. O. 84 Dept. South. 

Enlistments came in very slowly, and no wonder. The white officers andsoldiers were generally opposed to the experiment, and filled the earsof the negroes with the same tales which had been told them by theirmasters, --that the Yankees really meant to sell them to Cuba, and thelike. The mildest threats were that they would be made to work withoutpay (which turned out to be the case), and that they would be put in thefront rank in every battle. Nobody could assure them that they and theirfamilies would be freed by the Government, if they fought for it, sinceno such policy had been adopted. Nevertheless, they gradually enlisted, the most efficient recruiting officer being Sergeant William Bronson, of Company A, in my regiment, who always prided himself on this service, and used to sign himself by the very original title, "No. 1, AfricanFoundations" in commemoration of his deeds. 

By patience and tact these obstacles would in time have been overcome. But before long, unfortunately, some of General Hunter's staff becameimpatient, and induced him to take the position that the blacks _must_enlist. Accordingly, squads of soldiers were sent to seize all theable-bodied men on certain plantations, and bring them to the camp. Theimmediate consequence was a renewal of the old suspicion, ending in awidespread belief that they were to be sent to Cuba, as their mastershad predicted. The ultimate result was a habit of distrust, discontent, and desertion, that it was almost impossible to surmount. All the menwho knew anything about General Hunter believed in him; but they allknew that there were bad influences around him, and that the Governmenthad repudiated his promises. They had been kept four months in service, and then had been dismissed without pay. That having been the case, whyshould not the Government equally repudiate General Saxton's promises ormine? As a matter of fact, the Government did repudiate these pledges foryears, though we had its own written authority to give them. But thatmatter needs an appendix by itself. 

The "Hunter Regiment" remained in camp on Hilton Head Island untilthe beginning of August, 1862, kept constantly under drill, but muchdemoralized by desertion. It was then disbanded, except one company. That company, under command of Sergeant Trowbridge, then acting asCaptain, but not commissioned, was kept in service, and was sent (August5, 1862) to garrison St. Simon's Island, on the coast of Georgia. Onthis island (made famous by Mrs. Kemble's description) there were thenfive hundred colored people, and not a single white man. 

The black soldiers were sent down on the Ben De Ford, Captain Hallett. On arriving, Trowbridge was at once informed by Commodore Goldsborough, naval commander at that station, that there was a party of rebelguerillas on the island, and was asked whether he would trust hissoldiers in pursuit of them. Trowbridge gladly assented; and theCommodore added, "If you should capture them, it will be a great thingfor you. "

They accordingly went on shore, and found that the colored men of theisland had already undertaken the enterprise. Twenty-five of them hadarmed themselves, under the command of one of their own number, whosename was John Brown. The second in command was Edward Gould, who wasafterwards a corporal in my own regiment The rebel party retreatedbefore these men, and drew them into a swamp. There was but one path, and the negroes entered single file. The rebels lay behind a great log, and fired upon them. John Brown, the leader, fell dead within six feetof the log, --probably the first black man who fell under arms inthe war, --several other were wounded, and the band of raw recruitsretreated; as did also the rebels, in the opposite direction. This wasthe first armed encounter, so far as I know, between the rebels andtheir former slaves; and it is worth noticing that the attempt was aspontaneous thing and not accompanied by any white man. The men werenot soldiers, nor in uniform, though some of them afterwards enlisted inTrowbridge's company. 

The father of this John Brown was afterwards a soldier in my regiment;and, after his discharge for old age, was, for a time, my servant. "Uncle York, " as we called him, was as good a specimen of a saint as Ihave ever met, and was quite the equal of Mrs. Stowe's "Uncle Tom. " Hewas a fine-looking old man, with dignified and courtly manners, and hisgray head was a perfect benediction, as he sat with us on the platformat our Sunday meetings. He fully believed, to his dying day, that the"John Brown Song" related to his son, and to him only. 

Trowbridge, after landing on the island, hunted the rebels all day withhis colored soldiers, and a posse of sailors. In one place, he foundby a creek a canoe, with a tar-kettle, and a fire burning; and it wasafterwards discovered that, at that very moment, the guerillas were hidin a dense palmetto thicket, near by, and so eluded pursuit The rebelleader was one Miles Hazard, who had a plantation on the island, and theparty escaped at last through the aid of his old slave, Henry, whofound them a boat One of my sergeants, Clarence Kennon, who had not thenescaped from slavery, was present when they reached the main-land; andhe described them as being tattered and dirty from head to foot, aftertheir efforts to escape their pursuers. 

When the troops under my command occupied Jacksonville, Fla. , in Marchof the following year, we found at the railroad station, packed fordeparture, a box of papers, some of them valuable. Among them was aletter from this very Hazard to some friend, describing the perils ofthat adventure, and saying, "If you wish to know hell before your time, go to St Simon's and be hunted ten days by niggers. "

I have heard Trowbridge say that not one of his men flinched; and theyseemed to take delight in the pursuit, though the weather was very hot, and it was fearfully exhausting. 

This was early in August; and the company remained two months at StSimon's, doing picket duty within hearing of the rebel drums, thoughnot another scout ever ventured on the island, to their knowledge. Every Saturday Trowbridge summoned the island people to drill with hissoldiers; and they came in hordes, men, women, and children, in everyimaginable garb, to the number of one hundred and fifty or two hundred. 

His own men were poorly clothed and hardly shod at all; and, as no newsupply of uniform was provided, they grew more and more ragged. They gotpoor rations, and no pay; but they kept up their spirits. Every week orso some of them would go on scouting excursions to the main-land; onescout used to go regularly to his old mother's hut, and keep himself hidunder her bed, while she collected for him all the latest news of rebelmovements. This man never came back without bringing recruits with him. 

At last the news came that Major-General Mitchell had come to relieveGeneral Hunter, and that Brigadier-General Saxton had gone North; andTrowbridge went to Hilton Head in some anxiety to see if he and his menwere utterly forgotten. He prepared a report, showing the services andclaims of his men, and took it with him. This was early in October, 1862. The first person he met was Brigadier-General Saxton, who informedhim that he had authority to organize five thousand colored troops, andthat he (Trowbridge) should be senior captain of the first regiment

This was accordingly done; and Company A of the First South Carolinacould honestly claim to date its enlistment back to May, 1862, althoughthey never got pay for that period of their service, and their date ofmuster was November, IS, 1862. 

The above facts were written down from the narration ofLieutenant-Colonel Trowbridge, who may justly claim to have been thefirst white officer to recruit and command colored troops in this war. He was constantly in command of them from May 9, 1862, to February 9, 1866. 

Except the Louisiana soldiers mentioned in the Introduction, --of whomno detailed reports have, I think, been published, --my regiment wasunquestionably the first mustered into the service of the United States;the first company muster bearing date, November 7, 1862, and the othersfollowing in quick succession. 

The second regiment in order of muster was the "First Kansas Colored, "dating from January 13, 1863. The first enlistment in the Kansasregiment goes back to August 6, 1862; while the earliest technical dateof enlistment in my regiment was October 19, 1862, although, as wasstated above, one company really dated its organization back to May, 1862. My muster as colonel dates back to November 10, 1862, severalmonths earlier than any other of which I am aware, among coloredregiments, except that of Colonel Stafford (First Louisiana NativeGuards), September 27, 1862. Colonel Williams, of the "First KansasColored, " was mustered as lieutenant-colonel on January 13, 1863;as colonel, March 8, 1863. These dates I have (with the other factsrelating to the regiment) from Colonel R. J. Hinton, the first officerdetailed to recruit it. 

To sum up the above facts: my late regiment had unquestioned priority inmuster over all but the Louisiana regiments. It had priority over thosein the actual organization and term of service of one company. On theother hand, the Kansas regiment had the priority in average date ofenlistment, according to the muster-rolls. 

The first detachment of the Second South Carolina Volunteers (ColonelMontgomery) went into camp at Port Royal Island, February 23, 1863, numbering one hundred and twenty men. I do not know the date of hismuster; it was somewhat delayed, but was probably dated back to aboutthat time. 

Recruiting for the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts (colored) began onFebruary 9, 1863, and the first squad went into camp at Readville, Massachusetts, on February 21, 1863, numbering twenty-five men. ColonelShaw's commission (and probably his muster) was dated April 17, 1863. (Report of Adjutant-General of Massachusetts for 1863, pp. 896-899. )

These were the earliest colored regiments, so far as I know. 

Appendix C General Saxton's Instructions

[The following are the instructions under which my regiment was raised. It will be seen how unequivocal were the provisions in respect to pay, upon which so long and weary a contest was waged by our friends inCongress, before the fulfilment of the contract could be secured. ]

WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON CITY, D. C. , August 25, 1862. 

GENERAL, Your despatch of the 16th has this moment been received. It isconsidered by the Department that the instructions given at the time ofyour appointment were sufficient to enable you to do what you have nowrequested authority for doing. But in order to place your authoritybeyond all doubt, you are hereby authorized and instructed, 1st, To organize in any convenient organization, by squads, companies, battalions, regiments, and brigades, or otherwise, colored persons ofAfrican descent for volunteer laborers, to a number not exceeding fiftythousand, and muster them into the service of the United States for theterm of the war, at a rate of compensation not exceeding five dollarsper month for common laborers, and eight dollars per month formechanical or skilled laborers, and assign them to the Quartermaster'sDepartment, to do and perform such laborer's duty as may be requiredduring the present war, and to be subject to the rules and articles ofwar. 

2d. The laboring forces herein authorized shall, under the order ofthe General-in-Chief, or of this Department, be detailed by theQuartermaster-General for laboring service with the armies of the UnitedStates; and they shall be clothed and subsisted, after enrolment, in thesame manner as other persons in the Quartermaster's service. 

3d. In view of the small force under your command, and the inability ofthe Government at the present time to increase it, in order to guard theplantations and settlements occupied by the United States from invasion, and protect the inhabitants thereof from captivity and murder by theenemy, you are also authorized to arm, uniform, equip, and receive intothe service of the United States, such number of volunteers of Africandescent as you may deem expedient, not exceeding five thousand, andmay detail officers to instruct them in military drill, discipline, andduty, and to command them. The persons so received into service, andtheir officers, to be entitled to, and receive, the same pay and rationsas are allowed, by law, to volunteers in the service. 

4th. You will occupy, if possible, all the islands and plantationsheretofore occupied by the Government, and secure and harvest the crops, and cultivate and improve the plantations. 

5th. The population of African descent that cultivate the lands andperform the labor of the rebels constitute a large share of theirmilitary strength, and enable the white masters to fill the rebelarmies, and wage a cruel and murderous war against the people of theNorthern States. By reducing the laboring strength of the rebels, theirmilitary power will be reduced. You are therefore authorized by everymeans in your power, to withdraw from the enemy their laboring force andpopulation, and to spare no effort, consistent with civilized warfare, to weaken, harass, and annoy them, and to establish the authority of theGovernment of the United States within your Department. 

6th. You may turn over to the navy any number of colored volunteers thatmay be required for the naval service. 

7th. By recent act of Congress, all men and boys received into theservice of the United States, who may have been the slaves of rebelmasters, are, with their wives, mothers, and children, declared to beforever free. You and all in your command will so treat and regard them. 

Yours truly, EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War. BRIGADIER-GENERAL SAXTON. 

Appendix D The Struggle for Pay

The story of the attempt to cut down the pay of the colored troops istoo long, too complicated, and too humiliating, to be here narrated. Inthe case of my regiment there stood on record the direct pledge of theWar Department to General Saxton that their pay should be the same asthat of whites. So clear was this that our kind paymaster, Major W. J. Wood, of New Jersey, took upon himself the responsibility of paying theprice agreed upon, for five months, till he was compelled by expressorders to reduce it from thirteen dollars per month to ten dollars, and from that to seven dollars, --the pay of quartermaster's men andday-laborers. At the same time the "stoppages" from the pay-rolls forthe loss of all equipments and articles of clothing remained the sameas for all other soldiers, so that it placed the men in the most painfuland humiliating condition. Many of them had families to provide for, andbetween the actual distress, the sense of wrong, the taunts of those whohad refused to enlist from the fear of being cheated, and the doubt howmuch farther the cheat might be carried, the poor fellows were goadedto the utmost. In the Third South Carolina regiment, Sergeant WilliamWalker was shot, by order of court-marital, for leading his company tostack arms before their captain's tent, on the avowed ground that theywere released from duty by the refusal of the Government to fulfillits share of the contract. The fear of such tragedies spread a cloud ofsolicitude over every camp of colored soldiers for more than a year, andthe following series of letters will show through what wearisome laborsthe final triumph of justice was secured. In these labors the chiefcredit must be given to my admirable Adjutant, Lieutenant G. W. Dewhurst In the matter of bounty justice is not yet obtained; there isa discrimination against those colored soldiers who were slaves on April19, 1861. Every officer, who through indolence or benevolent designclaimed on his muster-rolls that all his men had been free on thatday, secured for them the bounty; while every officer who, like myself, obeyed orders and told the truth in each case, saw his men andtheir families suffer for it, as I have done. A bill to abolish thisdistinction was introduced by Mr. Wilson at the last session, but failedto pass the House. It is hoped that next winter may remove this lastvestige of the weary contest

To show how persistently and for how long a period these claims had tobe urged on Congress, I reprint such of my own printed letters on thesubject as are now in my possession. There are one or two of which Ihave no copies. It was especially in the Senate that it was so difficultto get justice done; and our thanks will always be especially due toHon. Charles Sumner and Hon. Henry Wilson for their advocacy of oursimple rights. The records of those sessions will show who advocated thefraud. 

To the Editor of the _New York Tribune_:

SIR, --No one can overstate the intense anxiety with which the officersof colored regiments in this Department are awaiting action fromCongress in regard to arrears of pay of their men. 

It is not a matter of dollars and cents only; it is a question of commonhonesty, --whether the United States Government has sufficient integrityfor the fulfillment of an explicit business contract. 

The public seems to suppose that all required justice will be done bythe passage of a bill equalizing the pay of all soldiers for the future. But, so far as my own regiment is concerned, this is but half thequestion. My men have been nearly sixteen months in the service, and forthem the immediate issue is the question of arrears. 

They understand the matter thoroughly, if the public do not Every oneof them knows that he volunteered under an explicit _written assurance_from the War Department that he should have the pay of a white soldier. He knows that for five months the regiment received that pay, afterwhich it was cut down from the promised thirteen dollars per month toten dollars, for some reason to him inscrutable. 

He does _not_ know for I have not yet dared to tell the men--that thePaymaster has been already reproved by the Pay Department for fulfillingeven in part the pledges of the War Department; that at the next paymentthe ten dollars are to be further reduced to seven; and that, to crownthe whole, all the previous overpay is to be again deducted or "stopped"from the future wages, thus leaving them a little more than a dollar amonth for six months to come, unless Congress interfere!

Yet so clear were the terms of the contract that Mr. Solicitor Whiting, having examined the original instructions from the War Department issuedto Brigadier-General Saxton, Military Governor, admits to me (underdate of December 4, 1863, ) that "the faith of the Government was therebypledged to every officer and soldier enlisted under that call. "

He goes on to express the generous confidence that "the pledge will behonorably fulfilled. " I observe that every one at the North seemsto feel the same confidence, but that, meanwhile, the pledge isunfulfilled. Nothing is said in Congress about fulfilling it. I have notseen even a proposition in Congress to pay the colored soldiers, _fromdate of enlistment_, the same pay with white soldiers; and yet anythingshort of that is an unequivocal breach of contract, so far as thisregiment is concerned. 

Meanwhile, the land sales are beginning, and there is danger of everyfoot of land being sold from beneath my soldiers' feet, because theyhave not the petty sum which Government first promised, and then refusedto pay. 

The officers' pay comes promptly and fully enough, and this makes theposition more embarrassing. For how are we to explain to the men themystery that Government can afford us a hundred or two dollars a month, and yet must keep back six of the poor thirteen which it promised them?Does it not naturally suggest the most cruel suspicions in regard to us?And yet nothing but their childlike faith in their officers, and in thatincarnate soul of honor, General Saxton, has sustained their faith, orkept them patient, thus far. 

There is nothing mean or mercenary about these men in general. Convincethem that the Government actually needs their money, and they wouldserve it barefooted and on half-rations, and without a dollar--for atime. But, unfortunately, they see white soldiers beside them, whom theyknow to be in no way their superiors for any military service, receivinghundreds of dollars for re-enlisting for this impoverished Government, which can only pay seven dollars out of thirteen to its black regiments. And they see, on the other hand, those colored men who refused tovolunteer as soldiers, and who have found more honest paymasters thanthe United States Government, now exulting in well-filled pockets, andable to buy the little homesteads the soldiers need, and to turnthe soldiers' families into the streets. Is this a school forself-sacrificing patriotism?

I should not speak thus urgently were it not becoming manifest thatthere is to be no promptness of action in Congress, even as regards thefuture pay of colored soldiers, --and that there is especial danger ofthe whole matter of _arrears_ going by default Should it be so, itwill be a repudiation more ungenerous than any which Jefferson Davisadvocated or Sydney Smith denounced. It will sully with dishonor allthe nobleness of this opening page of history, and fix upon the Northa brand of meanness worse than either Southerner or Englishman has yetdared to impute. The mere delay in the fulfillment of this contract hasalready inflicted untold suffering, has impaired discipline, has relaxedloyalty, and has begun to implant a feeling of sullen distrust in thevery regiments whose early career solved the problem of the nation, created a new army, and made peaceful emancipation possible. 

T. W. HIGGINSON, Colonel commanding 1st S. C. Vols. 

BEAUFORT, S. C. , January 22, 1864. 

HEADQUARTERS FIRST SOUTH CAROLINA VOLUNTEERS, BEAUFORT, S. C. , Sunday, February 14, 1864. 

To the Editor of the _New York Times_:

May I venture to call your attention to the great and cruel injusticewhich is impending over the brave men of this regiment?

They have been in military service for over a year, having volunteered, every man, without a cent of bounty, on the written pledge of the WarDepartment that they should receive the same pay and rations with whitesoldiers. 

This pledge is contained in the written instructions ofBrigadier-General Saxton, Military Governor, dated August 25, 1862. Mr. Solicitor Whiting, having examined those instructions, admits to me that"the faith of the Government was thereby pledged to every officer andsoldier under that call. "

Surely, if this fact were understood, every man in the nation would seethat the Government is degraded by using for a year the services of thebrave soldiers, and then repudiating the contract under which theywere enlisted. This is what will be done, should Mr. Wilson's bill, legalizing the back pay of the army, be defeated. 

We presume too much on the supposed ignorance of these men. I have neveryet found a man in my regiment so stupid as not to know when he wascheated. If fraud proceeds from Government itself, so much the worse, for this strikes at the foundation of all rectitude, all honor, allobligation. 

Mr. Senator Fessenden said, in the debate on Mr. Wilson's bill, January4, that the Government was not bound by the unauthorized promises ofirresponsible recruiting officers. But is the Government itself anirresponsible recruiting officer? and if men have volunteered in goodfaith on the written assurances of the Secretary of War, is not Congressbound, in all decency, either to fulfill those pledges or to disband theregiments?

Mr. Senator Doolittle argued in the same debate that white soldiersshould receive higher pay than black ones, because the families of thelatter were often supported by Government What an astounding statementof fact is this! In the white regiment in which I was formerly anofficer (the Massachusetts Fifty-First) nine tenths of the soldiers'families, in addition to the pay and bounties, drew regularly their"State aid. " Among my black soldiers, with half-pay and no bounty, nota family receives any aid. Is there to be no limit, no end to theinjustice we heap upon this unfortunate people? Cannot even the factof their being in arms for the nation, liable to die any day in itsdefence, secure them ordinary justice? Is the nation so poor, and soutterly demoralized by its pauperism, that after it has had the livesof these men, it must turn round to filch six dollars of the monthly paywhich the Secretary of War promised to their widows? It is even so, ifthe excuses of Mr. Fressenden and Mr. Doolittle are to be accepted byCongress and by the people. 

Very respectfully, your obedient servant, T, W. HIGGINSON, Colonel commanding 1st S. C. Volunteers. 

NEW VICTORIES AND OLD WRONGS To the Editors of the Evening Post:

On the 2d of July, at James Island, S. C. , a battery was taken by threeregiments, under the following circumstances:

The regiments were the One Hundred and Third New York (white), theThirty-Third United States (formerly First South Carolina Volunteers), and the Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts, the two last being colored. Theymarched at one A. M. , by the flank, in the above order, hoping tosurprise the battery. As usual the rebels were prepared for them, andopened upon them as they were deep in one of those almost impassableSouthern marshes. The One Hundred and Third New York, which hadpreviously been in twenty battles, was thrown into confusion; theThirty-Third United States did better, being behind; the Fifty-FifthMassachusetts being in the rear, did better still. All three formed inline, when Colonel Hartwell, commanding the brigade, gave the order toretreat. The officer commanding the Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts, eithermisunderstanding the order, or hearing it countermanded, ordered hisregiment to charge. This order was at once repeated by Major Trowbridge, commanding the Thirty-Third United States, and by the commander of theOne Hundred and Third New York, so that the three regiments reached thefort in reversed order. The color-bearers of the Thirty-Third UnitedStates and of the Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts had a race to be firstin, the latter winning. The One Hundred and Third New York entered thebattery immediately after. 

These colored regiments are two of the five which were enlisted inSouth Carolina and Massachusetts, under the written pledge of the WarDepartment that they should have the same pay and allowances aswhite soldiers. That pledge has been deliberately broken by the WarDepartment, or by Congress, or by both, except as to the short period, since last New-Year's Day. Every one of those killed in this action fromthese two colored regiments under a fire before which the veterans oftwenty battles recoiled _died defrauded by the Government of nearly onehalf his petty pay_. 

Mr. Fessenden, who defeated in the Senate the bill for the fulfillmentof the contract with these soldiers, is now Secretary of the Treasury. Was the economy of saving six dollars per man worth to the Treasury theignominy of the repudiation?

Mr. Stevens, of Pennsylvania, on his triumphal return to hisconstituents, used to them this language: "He had no doubt whatever asto the final result of the present contest between liberty and slavery. The only doubt he had was whether the nation had yet been satisfactorilychastised for their cruel oppression of a harmless and long-sufferingrace. " Inasmuch as it was Mr. Stevens himself who induced the House ofRepresentatives, most unexpectedly to all, to defeat the Senate bill forthe fulfillment of the national contract with these soldiers, I shouldthink he had excellent reasons for the doubt. 

Very respectfully, T. W. HIGGINSON, Colonel 1st S. C. Vols (now 33d U. S. ) July 10, 1864. 

To the Editor of the _New York Tribune_:

No one can possibly be so weary of reading of the wrongs done byGovernment toward the colored soldiers as am I of writing about them. This is my only excuse for intruding on your columns again. 

By an order of the War Department, dated August 1, 1864, it is at lengthruled that colored soldiers shall be paid the full pay of soldiers fromdate of enlistment, provided they were free on April 19, 1861, --nototherwise; and this distinction is to be noted on the pay-rolls. Inother words, if one half of a company escaped from slavery on April 18, 1861, they are to be paid thirteen dollars per month and allowed threedollars and a half per month for clothing. If the other half weredelayed two days, they receive seven dollars per month and are allowedthree dollars per month for precisely the same articles of clothing. If one of the former class is made first sergeant, Us pay is put up totwenty-one dollars per month; but if he escaped two days later, his payis still estimated at seven dollars. 

It had not occurred to me that anything could make the payrolls of theseregiments more complicated than at present, or the men more rationallydiscontented. I had not the ingenuity to imagine such an order. Yet itis no doubt in accordance with the spirit, if not with the letter, of the final bill which was adopted by Congress under the lead of Mr. Thaddeus Stevens. 

The ground taken by Mr. Stevens apparently was that the country mighthonorably save a few dollars by docking the promised pay of thosecolored soldiers whom the war had made free. _But the Government shouldhave thought of this before it made the contract with these menand received their services_. When the War Department instructedBrigadier-General Saxton, August 25, 1862, to raise five regimentsof negroes in South Carolina, it was known very well that the men soenlisted had only recently gained their freedom. But the instructionssaid: "The persons so received into service, and their officers, to beentitled to and receive the same pay and rations as are allowed by lawto volunteers in the service. " Of this passage Mr. Solicitor Whitingwrote to me: "I have no hesitation in saying that the faith of theGovernment was thereby pledged to every officer and soldier enlistedunder that call. " Where is that faith of the Government now?

The men who enlisted under the pledge were volunteers, every one;they did not get their freedom by enlisting; they had it already. Theyenlisted to serve the Government, trusting in its honor. Now the nationturns upon them and says: Your part of the contract is fulfilled; wehave had your services. If you can show that you had previously beenfree for a certain length of time, we will fulfil the other side of thecontract. If not, we repudiate it Help yourselves, if you can. 

In other words, a freedman (since April 19, 1861) has no rights which awhite man is bound to respect. He is incapable of making a contract Noman is bound by a contract made with him. Any employer, following theexample of the United States Government, may make with him a writtenagreement receive his services, and then withhold the wages. He has nomotive to honest industry, or to honesty of any kind. He is virtually aslave, and nothing else, to the end of time. 

Under this order, the greater part of the Massachusetts coloredregiments will get their pay at last and be able to take their wives andchildren out of the almshouses, to which, as Governor Andrew informs us, the gracious charity of the nation has consigned so many. For so much Iam grateful. But toward my regiment, which had been in service and underfire, months before a Northern colored soldier was recruited, thepolicy of repudiation has at last been officially adopted. There is noalternative for the officers of South Carolina regiments but to waitfor another session of Congress, and meanwhile, if necessary, act asexecutioners for those soldiers who, like Sergeant Walker, refuseto fulfil their share of a contract where the Government has openlyrepudiated the other share. If a year's discussion, however, has atlength secured the arrears of pay for the Northern colored regiments, possibly two years may secure it for the Southern. 

T. W. HIGGINSON, Colonel 1st S. C. Vols. (now 33d V. S. )

August 12, 1864. 

To the Editor of the _New York Tribune_:

SIR, --An impression seems to prevail in the newspapers that the latelypublished "opinion" of Attorney-General Bates (dated in July last) atlength secures justice to the colored soldiers in respect to arrears ofpay. This impression is a mistake. 

That "opinion" does indeed show that there never was any excuse forrefusing them justice; but it does not, of itself, secure justice tothem. 

It _logically_ covers the whole ground, and was doubtless intended to doso; but _technically_ it can only apply to those soldiers who were freeat the commencement of the war. For it was only about these that theAttorney-General was officially consulted. 

Under this decision the Northern colored regiments have already gottheir arrears of pay, --and those few members of the Southern regimentswho were free on April 19, 1861. But in the South Carolina regimentsthis only increases the dissatisfaction among the remainder, whovolunteered under the same pledge of full pay from the War Department, and who do not see how the question of their _status_ at some antecedentperiod can affect an express contract If, in 1862, they were free enoughto make a bargain with, they were certainly free enough to claim itsfulfilment. 

The unfortunate decision of Mr. Solicitor Whiting, under which allour troubles arose, is indeed superseded by the reasoning of theAttorney-General. But unhappily that does not remedy the evil, which isalready embodied in an Act of Congress, making the distinction betweenthose who were and those who were not free on April 19, 1861. 

The question is, whether those who were not free at the breaking out ofthe war are still to be defrauded, after the Attorney-General has shownthat there is no excuse for defrauding them?

I call it defrauding, because it is not a question of abstract justice, but of the fulfilment of an express contract

I have never met with a man, whatever might be his opinions as to theenlistment of colored soldiers, who did not admit that if they hadvolunteered under the direct pledge of full pay from the War Department, they were entitled to every cent of it. That these South Carolinaregiments had such direct pledge is undoubted, for it still exists inwriting, signed by the Secretary of War, and has never been disputed. 

It is therefore the plain duty of Congress to repeal the law whichdiscriminates between different classes of colored soldiers, or at leastso to modify it as to secure the fulfilment of actual contracts. Untilthis is done the nation is still disgraced. The few thousand dollarsin question are nothing compared with the absolute wrong done and thediscredit it has brought, both here and in Europe, upon the nationalname. 

T. W. HIGGINSON, Late Col. 1st S. C. Vols. (now 33d U. S. C. T. ) NEWPORT, R. I, December8, 1864. 

PETITION

"To the Honorable Senate and House of Representatives of the UnitedStates in Congress assembled:

"The undersigned respectfully petitions for the repeal of so much ofSection IV. Of the Act of Congress making appropriations for the armyand approved July 4, 1864, as makes a distinction, in respect to paydue, between those colored soldiers who were free on or before April 19, 1861, and those who were not free until a later date;

"Or at least that there may be such legislation as to secure thefulfillment of pledges of full pay from date of enlistment, made bydirect authority of the War Department to the colored soldiers of SouthCarolina, on the faith of which pledges they enlisted. 

"THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON, Late Colonel 1st S. C. Vols. (now 33d U. S. C. Vols. )

"NEWPORT, R. L, December 9, 1864. "

Appendix E Farewell Address of Lt. Col. Trowbridge

HEADQUARTERS 33d UNITED STATES COLORED TROOPS, LATE 1ST SOUTH CAROLINAVOLUNTEERS, MORRIS ISLAND, S. C. , February 9, 1866. GENERAL ORDERS, No. 1. 

COMRADES, --The hour is at hand when we must separate forever, andnothing can ever take from us the pride we feel, when we look back uponthe history of the First South Carolina Volunteers, --the first blackregiment that ever bore arms in defence of freedom on the continent ofAmerica. 

On the ninth day of May, 1862, at which time there were nearly fourmillions of your race in a bondage sanctioned by the laws of the land, and protected by our flag, --on that day, in the face of floods ofprejudice, that wellnigh deluged every avenue to manhood and trueliberty, you came forth to do battle for your country and your kindred. For long and weary months without pay, or even the privilege of beingrecognized as soldiers, you labored on, only to be disbanded and sentto your homes, without even a hope of reward. And when our country, necessitated by the deadly struggle with armed traitors, finally grantedyou the opportunity _again_ to come forth in defence of the nation'slife, the alacrity with which you responded to the call gave abundantevidence of your readiness to strike a manly blow for the liberty ofyour race. And from that little band of hopeful, trusting, and bravemen, who gathered at Camp Saxton, on Port Royal Island, in the fall of1862, amidst the terrible prejudices that then surrounded us, has grownan army of a hundred and forty thousand black soldiers, whose valorand heroism has won for your race a name which will live as long as theundying pages of history shall endure; and by whose efforts, united withthose of the white man, armed rebellion has been conquered, the millionsof bondmen have been emancipated, and the fundamental law of the landhas been so altered as to remove forever the possibility of humanslavery being re-established within the borders of redeemed America. Theflag of our fathers, restored to its rightful significance, now floatsover every foot of our territory, from Maine to California, and beholdsonly freemen! The prejudices which formerly existed against you arewellnigh rooted out

Soldiers, you have done your duty, and acquitted yourselves like men, who, actuated by such ennobling motives, could not fail; and as theresult of your fidelity and obedience, you have won your freedom. And O, how great the reward!

It seems fitting to me that the last hours of our existence asa regiment should be passed amidst the unmarked graves of yourcomrades, --at Fort Wagner. Near you rest the bones of Colonel Shaw, buried by an enemy's hand, in the same grave with his black soldiers, who fell at his side; where, in future, your children's children willcome on pilgrimages to do homage to the ashes of those that fell in thisglorious struggle. 

The flag which was presented to us by the Rev. George B. Cheever and hiscongregation, of New York City, on the first of January, 1863, --theday when Lincoln's immortal proclamation of freedom was given to theworld, --and which you have borne so nobly through the war, is now tobe rolled up forever, and deposited in our nation's capital. And whilethere it shall rest, with the battles in which you have participatedinscribed upon its folds, it will be a source of pride to us all toremember that it has never been disgraced by a cowardly faltering in thehour of danger or polluted by a traitor's touch. 

Now that you are to lay aside your arms, and return to the peacefulavocations of life, I adjure you, by the associations and history of thepast, and the love you bear for your liberties, to harbor no feelings ofhatred toward your former masters, but to seek in the paths of honesty, virtue, sobriety, and industry, and by a willing obedience to the lawsof the land, to grow up to the full stature of American citizens. Thechurch, the school-house, and the right forever to be free are nowsecured to you, and every prospect before you is full of hope andencouragement. The nation guarantees to you full protection and justice, and will require from you in return the respect for the laws andorderly deportment which will prove to every one your right to all theprivileges of freemen. 

To the officers of the regiment I would say, your toils are ended, yourmission is fulfilled, and we separate forever. The fidelity, patience, and patriotism with which you have discharged your duties, to your menand to your country, entitle you to a far higher tribute than any wordsof thankfulness which I can give you from the bottom of my heart Youwill find your reward in the proud conviction that the cause for whichyou have battled so nobly has been crowned with abundant success. 

Officers and soldiers of the Thirty-Third United States Colored Troops, once the First South Carolina Volunteers, I bid you all farewell!

By order of Lt. -Col. C. T. TROWBRIDGE, commanding Regiment

E. W. HYDE, Lieutenant and Acting Adjutant. 

INDEX

[page numbers have been retained for the W. W. Norton paperback reprintto show relative location in file. ]

Index

Aiken, William, GOT. , 166

Aiken, South Carolina, 249

Allston, Adam, Corp. , 103

Andrew, J. A. , Gov. , 29, 215, 216, sends Emancipation Proclamation toHigginson, 85

Bates, Edward, 275

Battle of the Hundred Pines, 95, 104

Beach, H. A. , Lt, 257, 258

Beaufort, South Carolina, 33, 34, 38, 106, 142, 215 Higginson visits, 64Negro troops march through, 74 picket station near, 134 residents visitcamp, 147 Negro troops patrol, 219

Beauregard, P. G. T. , Gen. , 45, 73

Beecher, H. R. , Rev. , 241

Bell, Louis, Col. , 225

Bennett, W. T. , Gen. , 249, 255

Bezzard, James, 95

Bigelow, L. F. , Lt, 28

Billings, L. , Lt. -Col. , 255

Bingham, J. M. , Lt, 170, 257

Brannan, J. M, Gen. , 107

Brisbane, W. H. , 60

Bronson, William, Sgt, 260

Brown, A. B. , Lt, 258

Brown, John, 29, 45, 61, 76

Brown, John (Negro), 262

Brown, York, 262 Bryant, J. E. , Capt, 220

Budd, Lt, 83

Burnside, A. E. , Gen. , 54, 55

Butler, B. F. , Gen. , 27

Calhoun, J. C. , Capt. , 150 Camplife, 30 evening activities, 36-39, 44-49Casualties, 89

Chamberlin, G. B. , Lt. , 177, 257 Chamberlin, Mrs. , 229

Charleston, South Carolina, attacked, 137, 143, 150 Negro troops in, 249 Charleston and Savannah Railway, 163

Cheever, G. B. , Rev. , 278

Child, A. Lt, 258

Christmas, 55, 56

Clark, Capt, 84, 89, 102

Clifton, Capt, 100, 101

Clinton, J. B. , Lt, 165

Colors, Stands of, 56, 60

Confederates, 35 use spies, 91, 93 attack Negro troops, 86-87, 100-102threaten to burn Jacksonville, 110 civilians fear Negro troops, 116retreat, 126-127, 142

Connecticut Regiment, Sixth, 122, 124, 126 Seventh, 93

Corwin, B. R. , MaJ. , 120, 126

Crandall, W. B. , Surg. , 255

Crum, Simon, Corp. , 249

Cushman, James, 241

Danilson, W. H. , Maj. , 93, 256, Davis, C. I. , Lt. , 257

Davis. , R. M. , Lt. , 259

Davis, W. W. H. , Gen. , 164

Department of the South, 15, 80 quiet, 106 colored troops in, 137

Desertions, 62

Dewhurst, G. W. , Adjt, 256

Dewhurst, Mrs. , 229

Discipline, need for, 29 Negroes accept, 39

Dolly, George, Capt. , 172, 256

Doolittle, J. R. , 271

Drill, of Negroes, 46, 51, 245 whites, 64-65

Drinking, absence of, 58

Duncan, Lt. Com. , 109, 111

Dupont, S. F. , Admiral, 15, 82, 91, 99, 108, 137

Dutch, Capt. , 166

Edisto expedition, 163-176, 214

Education, desire for, 48

Emancipation Proclamation, 65 read, 60 sent to Higginson, 85

Fernandina, Florida, 84, 91, 104

Fessenden, W. P. , 271, 272

Finnegan, Gen. , 115

Fisher, J. , Lt. , 257

Florida, 221 men under Higginson, 35 slaves know about Lincoln, 46refugees from, 49 Foraging, 99, 104, 117, 120 restraint in, 96-97 inFlorida, 221

Fowler, J. H. , Chap. , 59, 119, 221, Fremont, J. C. , Gen. , 46, 61

French, J. , Rev. , 60, 123

Furman, J. T. , Lt, 258

Gage, F. D. , Mrs. , 61

Garrison, W. L. , 236

Gaston, William, Lt. , 257

Gilmore, Q. A. , Gen. , 176, 224, 226, 228 writes on Charleston, 163approves Edisto expedition, 164

Goldsborough, Commodore, 231, Goodell, J. B. , Lt. , 28

Goodrich, F. S. , Lt. , 258, 259

Gould, E. Corp. , 261

Gould, F. M. , Lt, 258

Greeley, Horace, 164

Greene, Sgt, 125

Hallett, Capt, 80, 81, 261

Hallowell, E. N. , Gen. , 216, 230, Hamburg, South Carolina, 249

Hartwell, A. S. , Gen. , 272

Hawks, J. M. , Surg. , 256

Hawley, J. R. , Gen. , 93, 102, 114

Hayne, H. E. , Sgt. , 249

Hazard, Miles, 262

Heasley, A, Capt. , 220, 256

Heron, Charles, 126

Hilton Head, 32 Higginson visits, 106 troops on duty at, 214

Hinton, R. J. , Col. , 264

Holden, Lt, 126

Hooper, C. W. , Capt. , 154, 226, 256, 257, 258

Hospital, camp, 56, 63

Howard University, 250

Hughes, Lt. Com. , 91, 93, 94

Hunter, David. , Gen. -28, 35, 40, 62, 80, 124, 130, 131, 138, 164, 260, 261, 263 takes Negro sgt to N. Y. , 73 visits camp, 76 speaks toNegro troops, 76 Higginson confers with, 106 orders evacuation ofJacksonville, 107 attacks Charleston, 137 goes North, 150

Hyde, E. W. , Lt, 258, 259, 279

Hyde, W. H. , Lt, 89, 257

Jackson, A. W. , Capt, 87, 89, 256, 257, 258

Jacksonville, Florida Confederates threaten to burn, 110 Higginson's menreach, 112-113 description of, 114-115 order to evacuate, 130 attemptsto bum, 130-131

James, William, Capt. , 96, 165, 256

Jekyll Island, 83

Johnston, J. F. , Lt, 257

Jones, Lt. , 89

Kansas, 29, 43, 64

Kemble, Fanny, 82, 261

Kennon, Clarence, Cpl. , 262

King, T. B. , 82

Lambkin, Prince, Cpl. , 45, 116

Leslie's Illustrated Weekly, 56

Lincoln, Abraham, 46, 238

London Spectator, 76

Long, Thomas, CpL, 240

Mclntyre, H. , Sgt. , 85, 86, 239

Maine, 43

Maine Regiment, Eighth, 75, 123, 124, 126

Manning, B. H. , Lt, 259

Maroons, 235, 237

Massachusetts Regiment, First, 139 Fifty-Fourth, 27, 215, 232

Meeker, L. , Maj. , 122, 126

Merriam, E. C. , Capt, 256, 257

Metcalf, L. W. , Capt, 85, 87, 96, 220, 256

Miller family, 234

Minor, T. T, Surg. , 87, 256

Mitchell, O. M. , Gen. , 263

Montgomery, James, Col. , 114, 120, 130, 264 enters Jacksonville, 112river raid led by, 120, 129, 164

Moses, Acting Master, 83

Mulattoes, 33, 42, 234 pass for white, 49-50

Music, troops play, 47, 187-213

Negro soldiers visited, 30 work at night, 38-39 as sentinels, 42, 66-69honor and fidelity, 66 march to Beaufort, 74-75 conduct under fire, 86-87, 100-101, 128-129 treatment of whites by, 116 on picket duty, 133on raid up Edisto, 167-176 appraisal of, 231-247 from North and Southcompared, Negro spirituals, 187-213

Negroes, traits of, 66, 69-71 physical condition of, 72, 246 set free byHigginson's men, 166-169

New Hampshire Regiment, Fourth, 139, 225

New Year's celebration, 55, 56, 57-61

New York, 34 Officers, white, 51

O'Neil, J. B. , Lt. , 257

Osborne, Lt. , 220

Parker, C. E. , Lt. , 257

Parker, N. B. , Capt. , 256, 257, 258

Parsons, William, 89

Phillips, Wendell, 118, 236

Pomeroy, J. , Lt, 257

Port Royal, 82, 83, 124 capture of, 164 as winter camp, 177 new camp at, 215 objective of Sherman, 247

Ramsay, Allan, 209

Randolph, W. J. , Capt, 120, 256

Rebels. See Confederates Religious activities, 47, 48, 240-241

Rivers, Prince, Sgt. , 61, 75, 245, 249 qualities of, 73, 78 plants colors, 99

Robbins, E. W. , Capt, 256, 257, Roberts, Samuel, 231

Rogers, J. S. , Capt, 103, 173, 250, 256

Rogers, Seth, Surg. , 89, 103, 255

Rust, J. D. , Col. , 124, 125, 126, 131

Sammis, Col. , 49

St. Simon's Island, 83, 84

Sampson, W. W. , Capt, 170, 256, Savannah, Georgia, 115, 249

Saxton, M. W. , Lt. , 258

Saxton, Rufus, Gen. , 29, 55, 58, 59, 61, 70, 76, 80, 88, 102, 108, 143, 164, 216, 224, 225, 229, 232, 235, 261, 263, 267, 269, 270, 273 offerscommand to Higginson, 78 Higginson reports to, 33 issues proclamation, 34 receives recruits, 40 speaks on New Year's program, Negroes idolize, 66 speaks to troops, 76 initiates plans for Shaw monument, 217 Christmasparty, 219

Searles, J. M. , Lt. , 259

Sears, Capt. , 94

Selvage, J. M. , Lt, 258

Serrell, E. W. , Col. , 260

Seward, W. H. , 238

Seymour, T. , Gen. , 132, 228

Shaw, R. G. , Col. , 170, 264, 278 camp named for, 215 Higginson meets, 216 killed, 217

Sherman, W. T. , Gen. , 170, 247

Showalter, Lt. -Col, 128

"Siege of Charleston, " 163

Simmons, London, Cpl. , 245

Slavery, effect of, 38, 244

Smalls, Robert, Capt, 33, 80

Songs, Negro, 136, 187-213

South Carolina, 29 men under Higginson, 35, 40 man reads EmancipationProclamation, 59-60

South Carolina Volunteers, First, 27, 237 order to Floridacountermanded, 225 becomes Thirty-third U. S. Colored Troops, 248 SouthCarolina Volunteers, Second, 27, 126, 264

Sprague, A. B. R. , Col. , 28

Stafford, Col. , 264

Stanton, E. M. , 266

Steedman, Capt, 130

Stevens, Capt, 83

Stevens, Thaddeus, 272, 273

Stickney, Judge, 61, 106, 114

Stockdale, W, Lt, 257

Stone, H. A. , Lt, 257

Strong, J. D. , Lt. -Col. , 80, 121, 126, 172, 174, 175, 255

Stuard, E. S. , Surg. , 256

Sumner, Charles, 268

Sunderland, Col. , 113

Sutton, Robert, Sgt, 61, 88, 94, 95, 188 character of, 78-79 leads men, 85-86 wounded, 90 exhibits slave jail, 97-98 court-martialed, 104

Thibadeau, J. H. , Capt, 257

Thompson, J. M. , Capt, 256, 257

Tirrell, A. H. , Lt, 258

Tobacco, use of, 58

Tonking, J. H. , Capt, 256

Trowbridge, C. T. , Lt-Col. , 164, 167, 169, 175, 226, 231, 235, 243, 245, 249, 255, 256, 260, 262, 263, 272, 277-279 commands "Planter, " 80, 103and men construct Ft Montgomery, 121 on river raid, 165

Trowbridge, J. A. , Lt, 257, 258

Tubman, Harriet 37 Twichell, J. F. , Lt-CoL, 123, 126 Virginia

Vendross, Robert, Cpl. , 249

Walker, G. D. , Capt, 257

Walker, William, Sgt. , 267, 274

War Department, 40, 93

Washington, William, 44

Watson, Lt. , 109

Webster, Daniel, 27

Weld, S. M. , 216

West, H. C. , Lt, 258

West, J. B. , Lt, 257, 258

White, E. P. , Lt, 257

White, N. S, Capt, 256, 258, 259

Whiting, William, 269, 270, 274, 275

Whitney, H. A. , Maj, 170, 220, 255, 256

Wiggins, Cyrus, 250

Williams, Harry, Sgt. , 220

Williams, Col. , 264

Wilson, Henry, 268, 271

Wilson family, 233

Wood, H. , Lt, 258, 25?

Wood, W. J. , Maj. , 267

Woodstock, Georgia, 95

Wright, Gen. , 107, 112

Wright, Fanny, 234

Yellow Fever, fear of, 74

Zachos, Dr. , 41