Now for a tale of wild adventure! I came off guard at nine o’clock this

morning, and Sam. Oliver and I arranged to go a-fishing. We did not

get off until after dinner, which for Dan. and I consisted of a big

mess-pan of potatoes and bread and butter. We worked pretty hard to

find some worms for bait, but not a worm could be found on the Point;

so we caught a few grasshoppers and a crab and started in a dugout

for a point about two miles up the river. We fished diligently and

faithfully, but not a fish came to our hooks. But we were repaid for

our trouble by several very near views of the giant turtles which have

lately made their appearance here. Several times they came up close to

the boat. If they can bite as savagely as a “snapper” in proportion to

their size—O, my! Their heads looked as large as a man’s, and their

spread of flippers was tremendous. They would stick their heads out of

the water, give a big puff, and lazily roll under again. As we couldn’t

catch fish, we went ashore, had a good swim, and then went home. Then I

found I had left a rebel officer’s belt on the beach, and I paddled the

boat back again and picked up the belt.

Here is another: Colonel Bailey, Steve Smiley and a few others went out

sailing, yesterday, in a dugout they had rigged up with a keel and a

sail. They had no trouble running out before the wind, but when it came

to beating back they couldn’t get anywhere. They went kiting about,

hither and thither, and their boat did everything but what they wanted

it to. One of our armed schooners fired two shots to bring them to, but

they couldn’t heave to if the fate of the world had depended on it. At

last they came within an ace of running down one of the gunboats, which

obligingly lowered a boat and towed them ashore.

I do not know yet the result of Bill Ramsdell’s court martial, but

he says he is perfectly satisfied with the way he got his side of the

case in. The President of the court did not hesitate to say that Bill’s

treatment had been “shameful” in some particulars.

We have not had a drop of rain here for some time, although it is

cloudy almost every day and looks as if it was going to pour right

away. But we have an almost constant breeze, which is very refreshing,

although it is so late in the season that it begins to be a little cool.

Old Dan. is the prince of story tellers. He tells me stories of Ireland

and of his own adventures there and elsewhere. I like to hear him. He

will start in with some entirely reasonable and probable narrative.

Then he tells me something a little steeper, which I pretend to

swallow. Properly encouraged, he goes on, each time improving on his

last, until Gulliver and Munchausen sink into insignificance. Then I

say: “Och, Dan., what a divvle of a liar ye are!” He twists his picked

nose, snaps his eyes, and the show is over.

———————

_CXII_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _September 18, 1863_.

I was on guard yesterday, coming off this morning, and it was a lucky

strike, as a rain storm has just set in. So while the poor fellows

on duty today are paddling up and down in the wet, I will sit in my

comfortable tent, nice and dry. But if the storm holds on tomorrow

my crowing will be over and I’ll be the one out in the cold. Our

Seventeenth men will leave us very soon. Their time is up, but they

are being kept here on the plea of waiting for a mustering officer and

paymaster. There are three still doing duty in Company I. We had six,

but three have died. Since our arrival here the regiment has lost five

by death, four of whom were from the Seventeenth.

A good portion of our Reb prisoners, being out of ready money, have

taken to manufacturing little trinkets for sale to our men. They make

bone rings and bosom pins and other ornaments, some of which are of

remarkable workmanship. And they make wooden fans which are very

ingenious.

If the Fifth Regiment are coming down to help us I wish they would come

along. I have got tired of standing guard every other day as regularly

as days come around. We hear they are not having as good a time at home

as we did. I had rather be out here than to be cooped up as they are,

right at their homes and yet not permitted to spend their time there.

_Sunday Evening, September 20._

The Governor, Jack Hale and Dan. Clark were down here yesterday and

made speeches to a crowd at headquarters. Hale said we would probably

stay here until we are discharged, and that we had not got much longer

to serve.

———————

_CXIII_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _September 28, 1863_.

Now I can answer your question as to what I think has become of George

Slade. This very minute I have received a letter from him, dated at

Camp Parole, Annapolis. He has just got in from Richmond, where he has

been a prisoner at Belle Isle.

I am going to burn just four inches of candle. When not on duty the

boys have fine times boating and fishing. As soon as we got off guard

today I went a-fishing with two other fellows, and did not get back

till the middle of the afternoon. We had a grand time and poor luck. I

got only three.

There was a great naval disaster last Saturday. Steve Smiley and three

or four other bold mariners have been fitting up a boat that was

intended to be the boss of the fleet. Saturday, with a stiff breeze

blowing, they set out for a sail. They went down the river in grand

style and out into the bay. There was an injudicious combination of a

cranky boat, too much sail and too much wind, and the first thing they

knew the boat was bottom side up with care and the crew afloat on the

fierce rolling tide. A gunboat sent a boat to pick them up, and they

returned to camp wiser and wetter men.

We are receiving batches of prisoners every few days now. The Fort

Delaware prisoners are being transferred here, a steamer being kept

busy all the time. There are said to be about nine thousand there

awaiting transfer. Day before yesterday we had an arrival of prisoners

taken on Morris Island, S. C.

We are building a stockade across “the neck,” a narrow strip of sand

connecting the Point with the mainland. I don’t know whether I wrote

you, a short time ago, about five rebels escaping from here. Well, in

a squad which was brought in a few days ago who should appear but one

of these same fellows, back again! He had made his way to his regiment,

got into a skirmish immediately on his arrival, and was again taken

prisoner and returned to his old quarters.

Some of our officers are a good deal exercised just now with fears

for their positions. Under the new regulations a regiment must have a

certain number of men to entitle it to a colonel, and a company more

than sixty men to entitle it to a second lieutenant. And the fact that

our regiment, with its reduced rolls, is not entitled to anything

higher than a major in command, and no company has men enough to give

it a second lieutenant, has impressed our officers with a settled

conviction that the regiment should be filled up with conscripts. Our

second lieutenants have nearly all been made since the first of July,

when the order went into effect. But one of them told me, yesterday,

that Governor Gilmore had got ahead of the Government by dating their

commissions back beyond the first of July. But for all that, some of

them who have not yet been mustered are fearful they never will be.

It is a solemn fact that we now have more officers, commissioned and

non-commissioned, than we have privates doing duty in this regiment.

_Thursday, October 1._

Last night I was on patrol duty in the prison camp—really a sort of

policeman to see that order was maintained, and especially that there

were no unusual gatherings which might develope into an attempt to rush

the camp guard. The only assemblage permitted was a religious meeting

in an open space in camp—a regular old fashioned prayer meeting, the

character of which was accepted as a guaranty against treachery.

Marston thinks some of the prisoners are plotting an outbreak, which

is not at all improbable, as in such a gathering there are sure to be

more or less enterprising hot-heads. One of these insisted on passing a

sentry’s beat the other night, in spite of all commands to halt. When

he did halt he had a wooden “tompion” in his leg, the sentry having

forgotten to remove it from the muzzle of his gun.

I have a good mattress, made by filling my bunk with hay, then pulling

my old shelter tent over it and nailing down at the sides.

———————

_CXIV_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _October 8, 1863_.

The story is going that, the last of this month, the colonel,

lieutenant-colonel and all the second lieutenants of this regiment

are to be mustered out, as we have not men enough to allow us these

officers. In my company there are seven privates doing duty, and

three commissioned officers, which seems to be rather a top-heavy

organization. The men are watching the course of events with a good

deal of amused interest, and the officers with an equal amount of

anxiety.

A shanty for a Masonic lodge is being put up today. Desmond suggests

that there is more need of a comfortable guard house. But Dan. is a

devoted Catholic and doesn’t believe in Masons anyway.

The fence around the prisoners’ camp is progressing rapidly. It is

about a dozen feet high. Five of the Rebs made an attempt to escape

night before last. One hid himself under the commissary building, but

was soon found, and the hole through which he had crawled was securely

boarded up.

_Friday Evening._

I went on guard tonight at 5 and did not get relieved till after 8

and am feeling pretty cross. I saw in a paper tonight a list of the

men drafted in Manchester. There were some I was glad to have drawn,

although I doubt if there is the making of one good soldier in the

whole crowd.

Our guard duty will be somewhat easier hereafter, as the fence is

nearly completed and less posts will be required around the camp.

Already we can divide our men into three reliefs instead of two, thus

giving us a chance to get a little sleep between times.

———————

[Illustration: THE SOLDIER BOY]

———————

_CXV_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _October 27, 1863_.

Two of our fellows who were captured at Gettysburg have got in from the

parole camp at Annapolis. When they came I expected to see George Slade

with them. I had a letter from him only a few days before announcing

that he had just got in from a “hell upon earth”—a rebel prison—“tired,

dirty and lousy,” as he expressed it—and asking me to send him five

dollars. And now they bring me word that he is dead. I had no better

friend in the regiment than good, loyal old George Slade.

Another detachment of the Second Cavalry has arrived here, among whom

are some of the boys who went out of our regiment at Alexandria, and

from them we get authentic news of all the boys. Rod. Manning was

killed instantly at Culpepper—shot in the mouth. “Heenan” was not

killed, although he had a fierce saber cut on his head. When our boys

went to pick him up he told them to let him die where he was. They

were, in fact, so hard pressed that they could not have got him off

anyway. But he has since turned up as a prisoner in Richmond.

There has been a little disturbance up country. One of our officers

engaged in recruiting negroes was shot by an exasperated slaveholder.

Another officer came down today for a force to go up and preserve

order, and also for a gunboat to prevent them from running their

slaves from Maryland over into Virginia. A detachment of cavalry has

gone up. It beats everything how the contrabands are coming in both

from Maryland and Virginia. They come sometimes in squads of fifteen

or twenty, and most of the men go into the army or some branch of

the government service. Those coming from Maryland are not sent back

into bondage, as formerly, but if the owner is loyal he receives

three hundred dollars for his man, who is put in the army. This will

make Maryland a free state before many years. The situation is very

displeasing to the old secesh planters.

We are building a combination guard- and block house, of logs, in which

a howitzer will be mounted to command the main entrance to the prison

camp.

One of our men who deserted at Yorktown returned today—brought back

under guard; and I hear there are quite a number of men at Washington

who deserted right after the first Bull Run battle. It will be a corker

on them if they have to make up the time they have lost.

I have a bundle of curios I would like to send home by express. There

is no express office here, but the sutler brings down all the express

matter directed to the Point. Bill Pendleton, of this company, who was

mail agent, used to carry bundles to Washington for the boys, but he

had some trouble with the captain of the boat and has been relieved.

———————

_CXVI_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _November 1, 1863_.

My box came today, bringing a good supply of clothing, so I think I can

hold out pretty comfortably this winter. I am, also, unusually well

fixed as to quarters. Have rearranged to take in Bill Pendleton. Bill

and I have an upper bunk, and Dan. a lower bunk all to himself. Bill

has a good mattress and half a dozen quilts and we undress and go to bed

like folks. I found much more of an eatable nature than I expected in

my box. We are clearing out cakes, pies and apples, and are surveying

one of those big onions to find the most available point of attack.

Bill Ramsdell won out in his court martial, was acquitted, released

from arrest, and returned to the company for duty yesterday. I find

Bill has a very bitter feeling against Captain Gordon and attributes

most of his troubles to him. The captain warmly congratulated Bill and

told him he had done everything he could to secure his acquittal. But

Bill grimly says he knows better.

Last night was a night of excitement over attempts of prisoners to

escape. Three or four different parties had their plans all laid. One

squad had made arrangements with a sentry to let five men pass beyond

his beat, paying him a handsome sum in greenbacks; but no sooner did

he get their money than he betrayed them to the provost marshal. The

consequence was that a squad of cavalrymen was lying in wait and two

of the adventurers were severely wounded. The sympathies of our boys

are all with the Rebs and against the fellow who was mean enough to

take their money and then give them away. Two other parties had tunnels

completed from their tents to a point outside the fence, but their

schemes miscarried. I was down at my tent, eating my supper, when the

“long roll” beat at the guard house, and I never knew before that there

were so many logs and mud holes on Point Lookout as I tumbled over and

into in my haste to answer the call.

_Monday Evening._

More improvements! I wish you could see our stove. It is the biggest

box stove ever made, I guess. It is not exactly _in_ our tent, but one

end is. If the whole apparatus was there wouldn’t be room for anything

else. It is a government stove. We discovered a nest of about fifty,

and one dark night not long ago the Second confiscated the whole lot. I

hear they are coming around tomorrow to pick them up, in which event we

have done a good deal of heavy lugging for nothing.

Col. Bailey has been living in one of the houses “down town,” but today

his tent is being fixed up for his reception. I do not know whether he

is going to move his wife up to camp or not.

Being off duty today I went oystering. Got lots of them, and cut my

fingers all to pieces shucking them.

Two volunteer recruits for our company came down on the boat tonight.

They are a decided novelty—living proofs that there are a few left who

do not wait to be drafted.

———————

_CXVII_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _November 8, 1863_.

There is more trouble for our last batch of second lieutenants. When

commissioned, their names were dropped from the rolls of enlisted men;

but when it came to being mustered, it could not be done, the regiment

not having men enough. They are not on the rolls of enlisted men, and

cannot be mustered as officers, so they are wondering where they are

and how they are going to get any pay for the past four months. It is

a serious problem for some of them who have spent considerable sums on

officers’ outfits.

My big stove, “The Swamp Angel,” has been taken away, and I don’t know

as I am very sorry, it was such an infernally clumsy contrivance. We

had the fun of stealing it, anyway. Captain Gordon says he has made

arrangements for a little sheet-iron stove for each tent, which will be

much better.

Our two new recruits from Manchester have both been placed in my tent.

One, named Messenger, was in the Sixteenth Regiment. I do not remember

the name of the other. [Jason Sherwood, a Seventeenth man, who served

in Company F and re-enlisted shortly after his discharge.]

A couple of steamers were in collision, out on the bay, Friday night.

One, the “Curfew,” was sunk, and the other, the “Louisiana,” was towed

in here the next day by a gunboat. One of them, it is stated, has been

engaged in the hunt for the “Alabama.”

Last Wednesday was state election day in Maryland, and several wagons

rigged out with flags and banners, and loaded with citizens and unarmed

soldiers, went up to St. Mary’s. It reminded me of some of my old

election rackets in New Hampshire.

The wild geese are beginning to come along. One small flock passed over

the camp yesterday. Quite a number of shots were fired at them, and one

big fellow came down. The residents here say there will be big rafts of

them on the river this winter.

A schooner has just gone ashore near camp, in trying to get around the

point. Our guard details are so arranged now that we are on duty only

every fourth day. If this continues, we will have an easy time this

winter.

———————

_CXVIII_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _November 14, 1863_.

The Fifth Regiment has just landed and gone into camp. They came down

from Washington yesterday afternoon, but did not land until this

morning. There are 750, mostly substitutes, and I hear they have not

come to help us on guard duty, but to be drilled preparatory to going

to the front. We have the cutest little sheet-iron stove that ever was,

set up and in running order.

_Monday Afternoon._

Our new-comers of the Fifth are the toughest crowd I ever saw

credited to New Hampshire. They are loaded with money paid to them as

substitutes, and no sooner were they landed than almost every man was

loading up with supplies from the sutler’s. They are not going to do

any guard duty, so we hear and so it appears. They are kept very close,

having a guard about their camp, and cannot get out without a pass. If

they had the same freedom the Second has, there would doubtless be a

grand hiatus of the bounty fellows.

Two prisoners were shot yesterday. The Fifth’s drum corps was playing

“Dixie,” and when they got through the Rebs crowded up to the fence and

gave “Three cheers for Dixie!” The demonstration soon became riotous

and threatening, and was passing beyond all control, when the Twelfth

man on guard at that point fired into the crowd and brought the crazy

fellows to their senses.

Bill Ramsdell is doing duty right along, but he came very near getting

into another scrape the other night. You must know that we soldiers

have a free-and-easy way of appropriating to our own use any little bit

of government property that will contribute to our comfort. It isn’t

stealing. We all do it. The government has sent whole shiploads of

boards here, for fences, houses, &c., and if we fellows want one or two

to build a bunk or fix our quarters, we take them, and no harm done.

Well, the other night Bill went out on a piratical cruise, shouldered

a board, and was almost into camp with it when, as ill luck would have

it, he ran up against General Marston himself, who ordered him to drop

his load, personally escorted him down to headquarters, and turned him

over to the guard. But Bill pulled up two or three tent-pins, crawled

out under the canvas, and in due time appeared in camp lugging his

board, which he had gathered in again on his way up. As all this took

place at night, and as the Twelfth was on guard, Bill flattered himself

no one would ever be any wiser as to who the prisoner was. But he was

recognized by one of the guard, who thought the escape of Marston’s own

prisoner too good a thing to keep, and it leaked to the officer of the

guard. In due time a guard appeared in camp hunting for “a man named

Ramsdell.” But nobody knew any such man. The guard was a mighty decent

fellow, and didn’t rake with a fine-tooth comb. We kept Bill out of

sight until a new officer of the guard came on, when the matter was

forgotten or dropped at headquarters.

I did not get off with my guard duty day before yesterday quite as

well as I expected. A cold rain set in, and if it had not been for

the overcoat and rubber blanket that came in my box, I should have

suffered. That day we occupied, for the first time, the new guard

house, which, however, had not been shingled, and it rained harder

inside than out. So I came down to my tent and sat while not on post,

and in this way made the best of a dismal situation.

———————

_CXIX_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD.,

_Saturday Evening, November 21, 1863_.

Rainy and dreary outside, but inside is warmth and comfort. There is a

good fire in the little stove, the tent is tight as a drum, and there

is a snug warm bunk for me when I get ready to turn in.

You appear to be having quite a little run of adventures. Well, here

is one of mine. The other day I took an outing up into the country,

just to see what sort of a place it is up there. It was dark when I

got within a mile of camp, and I was tired and anxious to get in the

shortest way. I knew that by the route which would save me half my

travel I would have to wade a network of little creeks, but that didn’t

trouble me, and across-lots I started. Wading into creek No. 1, I found

myself up to my middle, with a strong tide setting in. But I was in for

it, and I kept forging ahead, but when I came to the last crossing I

wished I had gone the other way. This was at the point where the creek

empties into the river. It was not wide, but the tide was setting into

it like a millrace. I waded in. Once or twice I thought I would be

swept off my feet and floated up the creek like a piece of driftwood.

But I got through—and so ended my soul-stirring adventure.

It is reported that we are to have “Sibley” tents for winter quarters,

and that all the improvements we have been making will have to go to

make way for the new arrangement. The Sibley is much larger than our

A-tents, and is a great canvas cone supported by a center pole. Ours

are to be stockaded about four feet high on logs planted on end in the

ground, and ten men will make a tent’s crew. Each tent is equipped

with a stove, and the whole outfit makes the most comfortable quarters

imaginable. The only drawback is the trouble of making the change.

The new men of the Fifth are making a great deal of trouble by their

attempts to desert. Last Tuesday several made the venture, and one

party got clean away by taking a boat from the beach at our camp. As a

result, Marston has ordered all the boats taken away, and there is the

end of our boating and oyster raking. Two Subs managed to get out to a

schooner, and struck a bargain with a negro—who was captain, cook and

all hands—to set them on shore outside our picket line. As they landed,

a squad of mounted men went tearing up the beach and gathered them in,

while a gunboat went after the schooner and brought it in as a prize.

Colonel Bailey has had an old shanty moved up here, which I suppose he

intends to have fixed up for himself and wife. He has been quartering

down on the point, and it is reported that General Marston has ordered

him to make his quarters with his regiment.

Rats! Rats!! Rats!!! We are overrun with them. They swarm everywhere,

and are big enough to waylay a cat. They run over us as we lie in our

bunks, and the other night one dropped plump in my face from the upper

bunk. One of the fellows in that bunk got his hand on one and combed

it across the tent, where it struck the boards with a loud thump and a

terrified squeak.

I hear the Fifth are going to take their turn at guard duty tomorrow.

If they do it will make our duty much easier.

———————

_CXX_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD., _November 28, 1863_.

Quite a relief it is to us overworked fellows to have the Fifth take

their turn at guard duty. We cannot now be called upon oftener than

every third day, and probably not as often as that. You need have

no uneasiness about small pox here. There is only one case in this

regiment, so far as I know. Most of the cases are from the prison camp.

The small pox hospital is outside the lines, and the guard are immunes

who have had the disease.

_Evening._—I have just had a good supper of oysters, and the papers

bring us news of a great victory at Chattanooga, so I am feeling pretty

well both in body and mind.

———————

_CXXI_

POINT LOOKOUT, MD.,

_Sunday, December 6, 1863_.

A Minor War History Compiled from a Soldier Boy's Letters to "the Girl I Left Behind Me": 1861-1864 · 第 11 / 14 段