The march from the landing to the headquarters of General John E. Mulford,
was through a swampy piece of ground and the road was muddy, but, with
freedom almost in sight, we tramped along cheerfully, with buoyant steps
and hopeful hearts, singing snatches of army songs, though we were still
inside the lines of the enemy. After a march of about five miles we passed
the reb picket line, and about three hundred yards ahead, saw once more
floating in the breeze, on a tall flag staff, the glorious old banner for
whose defence we had suffered so long and so fearfully.
When the head of the column came under the shadow of "OLD GLORY," both our
cheers and our old dilapidated hats went heavenward with all the velocity
that we were able to impart to them. Some were too feeble to more than
faintly whisper their greeting to the dear old flag they loved so dearly,
while tears of joy attested the genuineness of their affection for that
beautiful emblem of liberty, the sight of which had so long been denied
them.
I never before realized how much I loved the dear old stars and stripes,
or how much protection there was beneath its shining folds. How I longed
to press it to my heart and lips. And not me alone, but of the nearly two
thousand skeletons who that day saw it proudly waving high over their
heads for the first time in many months; there were few indeed who would
not have fervently kissed and caressed it had it been within their reach.
As a mother's love goes out to her first born that has come to her amid
suffering and pain, so that old flag seemed a thousand fold more beautiful
and precious to us, for the sufferings and privations we had passed
through in its defence.
Cheer after cheer went up as the straggling column passed along, feeble
hands were waived, and feeble voices joined in the huzzahs, with which we
celebrated our return to "God's country."
Arriving at General Mulford's headquarters, we were obliged to wait two or
three hours for a boat to take us down the river. Once on board the
steamer, our first thought was for a good square meal.
But, alas! a meal on board that steamer cost a dollar, and Confederate
money was no good there.
A comrade whom I had befriended, however, invited me to take dinner with
him, which invitation you may be sure I readily accepted; and for the
first time in many months, sat down to a regular dinner of roast beef,
Irish potatoes, bread and butter, and a genuine cup of coffee.
On the morning of Sunday, the 22d of February, we arrived at Annapolis. As
the steamers were approaching the wharf, a band which had come down to
welcome us, struck up "Home, Sweet Home." Involuntarily every officer took
off his hat and bowed his head, as though receiving a benediction, so
impressively solemn sounded that sweet, familiar tune just then.
Arriving at parole camp, the first person I met whom I knew, was Captain
Eastmond, who escaped with me at Columbia, and who was recaptured the next
night.
He told me that a few days after my escape, my name was called for special
exchange, and he answered to my name, signed my name to the parole, and
had been out nearly three months.
As soon as he reached General Mulford's headquarters he told him of the
deception he had practiced, and the General told him it was all right and
as soon as he could find out where I was he would send another special for
me. But I, in blissful ignorance of what my friends were trying to
accomplish in my behalf, was being shifted from one place to another, so
that he did not get track of me again. The first thing I did upon my
arrival at Annapolis, was to hunt up the store of the Ladies' Sanitary
Commission, and get a complete outfit from head to foot, for which they
would take no pay, and then getting a room in a hotel, I stripped off my
lousy rags, and after taking a good bath, dressed myself in my new suit,
throwing my old prison garments out of a window into an alley, thus
effectually ridding myself from the annoying companions that had so
persistently stuck by me during my imprisonment. I parted with them
without a sigh, and have never to this day had a desire to renew their
acquaintance.
I then applied for a twenty day's leave and wrote a long letter home,
giving a brief synopsis of my experience in the prisons of rebeldom for
the last ten months. This letter I directed to my wife, though I did not
know whether she was dead or living, not having heard a word from her
since parting with her at Plymouth, on the night of the first day's fight.
After waiting a week I received my leave of absence, and at once started
for home. I found that my letters had nearly all been received and
promptly answered, but they were never delivered to me. I can never be
made to believe but that our letters were purposely destroyed by order of
General Winder, as a part of his plan to discourage and dishearten us,
well knowing how much this would do towards undermining our health and
destroying our lives.
I was home for days before I could feel fully assured that I was really
out of prison; fearing all the time that it was only one of those vivid
dreams that had so often come to me while there, and fearing lest I should
awake and find myself still surrounded by stockades and rebel guards,
often I would stop and pinch myself to see if I were really awake, and at
home among friends.
Upon the expiration of my twenty days' leave, I returned to my regiment
near Goldsboro, (having been exchanged) and was just in time to assist in
taking in the North Carolina troops of Johnson's army, and seeing the
conquered rebels lay down their arms, dejected and subdued, and seemingly
heartily rejoiced, that the fearful struggle was finally at an end.
I reached Albany on my way back to Annapolis, on the 3rd day of April, and
there first learned of the evacuation of Richmond. The first person I met
whom I knew, as I disembarked from the cars near the Delavan House, was
Hon. Elias Root, then Member of Assembly from Oswego Co. He saluted me
with, "hello Cooper, you here and sober? Haven't you heard that Richmond
has fallen? The orders are that any man found sober here after four
o'clock will be arrested." This coming as it did from a staunch temperance
man, and an active and consistent christian, was a stunner; and I
apologized by saying that I had just arrived in Albany and had not yet
been able to comply with the order, but would attend to it immediately. I
managed to avoid being arrested that day, for I had seen enough of prison
life and did not care to be deprived of my liberty again so soon.
Proceeding to Washington and then back to Annapolis, and from there back
to Newbern, via the Keretuck canal, I immediately joined my regiment at
Mosley Hall, near Goldsboro, and reported for duty.
A few days after my return to headquarters we received the joyful news of
the surrender of General Lee, at Appomattox, on the 9th of April. This
news was received with great demonstrations of joy by every one, and was
celebrated with the wildest enthusiasm. About this time I was ordered to
Camp Palmer, near Newbern, on some business, and saw an order posted, of
which the following is substantially a copy:
HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT, &C.
General Orders, No. --.
The news having reached the headquarters of this department that
General Lee surrendered the army of Virginia to General U. S. Grant
on the 9th inst. at Appomattox Court House, the following order is
promulgated.
1st. Any soldier found sober after four o'clock to-day will, if an
enlisted man, be confined in the guard house, and if an officer, will
be placed in arrest and charges preferred against him. By order of
GEN. PALMER.
[Signed.] A. A. JUDSON, Capt. & A. A. G.
I also found Capt. Judson at Camp Palmer to see that the order was
properly enforced. I will only add that there were no arrests made under
that order.
Upon joining my company I found Captain R. B. Hock, who had escaped with
me at Columbia, and with whom I had parted from in the suburbs of
Greenwood, S. C., when I started out to find the cabin of "Free
Mitchell," and whom I had not seen or heard from since that time.
The meeting was a joyful one to both, and Captain Hock related to me the
experience of himself and Lieut. Winner after we separated.
They took a route more to the east, and after walking about three hundred
and fifty miles, which took them, I think, about twenty-one days
altogether, they came out at Marysville, Tenn., where they struck the
Union lines, and were, after resting a few days, sent on to Washington,
and from there to join their respective regiments.
Captain Hock afterwards participated in the battle of Wise's Forks and was
there again taken prisoner, but escaped the same night and walked through
to Plymouth, N. C., the scene of the battle where we were both taken by
General Hoke a year before.
Plymouth at this time was again in possession of the Union forces, and
from there he again went to Newbern. He was subsequently made a prisoner
again during another engagement near Goldsboro with Johnson's army, and
again succeeded in making his escape, and after a long and tedious march
once more reached his regiment.
When he came back this time the regiment was just out for dress parade,
and Colonel J. W. Savage had him accompany him out in front of the line,
where he introduced him to the command as the GREASY CAPTAIN.
Company F., Captain R. B. Hock, of which I was 1st Lieutenant, was for a
time thereafter stationed at Kinston, N. C., and after taking the paroled
men of Johnson's army, relieving them of their arms, but leaving them
their "critters," we joined the regiment again and were encamped for a
while at Goldsboro, and then marched to Tarboro, which place I had not
visited before since I passed through there in April, 1864, a prisoner of
war. Here I was placed in command of Company D, Captain Turner of that
company having been detailed for duty in the Freedman's Bureau.
We remained in Tarboro until the middle or latter part of July, and while
there I assisted in disinterring the remains of five of my comrades, of
the 12th N. Y. Cavalry, who were killed in a charge near that place in
July, 1863, and give them a christian burial.
The following letter, which was written at the time and was published in
the city papers, gives a brief description of the funerals:
CAMP NEAR TARBORO, N. C., May 17, 1865.
MR. SAMUEL MILLER:
MY DEAR SIR--I have just returned from assisting in performing the
last sad duties to the heroes who fell in the gallant charge near
this place in July, 1863. I personally superintended the disinterment
of the bodies, and readily recognized your brave boy by his hair,
teeth, and the shape of his head. I also recognized the body of
William Davis. Capt. Simeon Church was there, and recognized his twin
brother, Capt. Cyrus Church, and others who were present recognized
the others.
Six were buried in one grave, and all were in a perfectly nude state,
the fiendish brutes having appropriated to their own use every
article of wearing apparel. We had a coffin made for each one. When
disinterred they were placed in coffins made of white wood, and their
names written on the covers. The bodies were brought into camp, when
the funeral procession was formed in the following order, viz:
First, the regimental band; next, forty men mounted on white horses,
with drawn sabres; next, the chaplain; next, the ambulance, with the
bodies of Capt. Cyrus Church, and Sergt. John P. Miller and William
Davis, with six officers acting as pall bearers by the side; next the
officers of the regiment; next twelve men mounted on bay horses, with
drawn sabres and commanded by a Sergeant; next the ambulance
containing the bodies of S. Mulligan, H. Rood and David Carl, and in
the rear the dismounted men of the regiment.
At 2 o'clock the procession moved with sabres reversed, the band
playing a solemn dirge, and marched to a beautiful burying ground in
the village, where the Episcopal burial service was read by Chaplain
Palmer of our regiment. We are thankful that we have at last had the
mournful privilege of giving a christian burial to our fallen
comrades.
Appropriate headboards were placed at the graves. The coffins were
made small enough to be placed in other coffins for removal. I shall
do all I can to send the remains of your son home, and if Captain
Church sends his brother, I will send your son with him. I send you a
lock of Johnny's hair, and some of the hair of Wm. Davis, which
please give to his wife.
Deeply sympathizing with you and your family I remain,
Your obedient servant,
A. COOPER,
1st Lieutenant, Commanding D Troop, 12th N. Y. Cavalry.
From Tarboro the 12th Cavalry were moved to Raleigh, N. C., where we made
up our returns and turned over our horses, and were then mustered out of
the service.
From Raleigh we made the march to Petersburgh, and from there to City
Point, where we took steamers for New York. We were sent to Hart's Island,
where we were paid off and were soon at home again.