THE VOYAGE.
The mere recollection of the nine days passed on the steamer
"Mississippi" is painful, but it occupied too prominent a position in
our experience to be omitted in this sketch.
After the usual delay on the wharf, attending the embarkation of a
large body of men, we filed on to the steamer, and were ushered into
our respective quarters. Our company, with five others, were consigned
to the stern of the vessel; so, passing down the companion-way, deeper
and deeper, darker and darker, until we could, at least, claim a nearer
proximity to China than ever before, we arrived in the hold. As light
was never known to penetrate that quarter, for two dim lanterns and
three air-holes covered with gratings could hardly be said to afford
light, it will be impossible to describe its appearance. As well as
could be ascertained by touch and smell, the whole available space was
fitted up with bunks, three tiers deep and of different capacities,
holding from one to four occupants, those comfortably crowded with
three being intended for four, and so on down to the single ones. All
this we learned by the touch, and at least we will give them credit for
making the most of their room; but our olfactory nerves had another
story to tell; however, we will not particularize.
The other companies were stowed in the forward part of the vessel,
between decks and in the hold, the band lying wherever they could find
space enough. In addition, five companies of the 46th Regiment were
entrusted to the tender mercies of the "Mississippi," and where they
were packed is beyond the power of man to say--one company, at all
events, was located on the quarter-deck.
Now all this would have been well enough had we sailed that night, as
was intended, and made the four-day trip to Beaufort; but no such good
luck was in store, and our initiation was not to be quite so easy. A
heavy northeasterly storm set in, soon after we had hauled into the
stream, and for five days, a tempest of rain, hail, sleet and snow
raged with unceasing fury.
Colonel Codman declared the vessel should not sail in such a crowded,
filthy condition, and the captain said he could not sail if he would,
on account of the storm, and more than that, there must be a convoy to
protect us from the "Alabama," at that time reported off the coast. So
there we lay at anchor, tossing and pitching, in plain sight of the
city, which only served to aggravate us in our wretchedness, while near
by, lay our companions in misery, the 43d and the remainder of the 46th
on our consort, the "Merrimac."
Our drinking-water was condensed from salt water by an apparatus
connected with the engine, and was always in a lukewarm, yellowish
state, enough to make one renounce water forever, and before which
Gough himself would have stood dumb. A guard, also, was always
stationed over the cask to prevent the men from drinking too much;
whether because the process of condensation had rendered it more
precious than common water, or from a fear of the men sickening from a
too free use of the vile liquid, is still an unexplained mystery. May
the inventor be condemned to have it for an eternal drink!
The food given us baffles all attempt at description. The filthy messes
of soup, salt-junk and burnt rice were boiled in the same huge caldron,
and the sight of the dirty cook added to one taste of the unknown
compound, called by some familiar name calculated to deceive us, was
enough to make one eager to die of starvation. It was so pleasant, just
before dinner, to be ordered below to await our turn in the long line,
and on the way down, catch a glimpse of the cabin table, covered with
delicacies fresh from the Boston markets, and when our company was
called, to ascend from the depths of the vessel, cup in hand, eager for
the sumptuous repast doled out from the great boiler, which, like the
magician's flask, furnished tea, coffee, soup, etc., as desired. Yet
all this was on a first-class transport;--may heaven take pity on the
poor wretches whose hard fate consigns them to vessels of an inferior
class!
After strenuous exertions by our colonel and some good friends of the
regiment in the city, another steamer, the "Saxon," was provided for
the 46th, and our own vessel underwent a partial cleansing. We were
also visited by some of the more enterprising of our friends, who
ventured down the harbor in a tug during the lulls of the storm, and
having received an invoice of lanterns, books and eatables, we were
enabled to make ourselves rather more comfortable.
We embarked on Wednesday, and on the following Monday, accompanied by
the "Merrimac," "Saxon," and the gun-boat "Huron," we steamed down the
harbor just at sunset, overjoyed at the prospect of a quick voyage and
a speedy release from our uncomfortable quarters. Two or three of us
had, in the course of our wanderings, discovered a cosy little nook in
the extreme stern of the vessel, in close proximity to the screw, and
here, away from the forlorn, grumbling crowd, which thronged the decks
and holds, with our lanterns, books and cards, we managed to while away
the weary hours quite pleasantly.
The storm had completely exhausted itself, and the weather was all
that could be desired; and though the slowness of our consort, the
"Huron," delayed us somewhat, yet after we were once fairly started on
our way, nothing occurred to mar the voyage, and on Friday morning,
the 14th instant, the lights of Beaufort harbor were visible, and our
trials on shipboard were at an end. Our decks were crowded with a
happy company, and an exciting race ensued between the "Mississippi"
and the "Merrimac," for the pilot-boat which lay off the entrance of
the harbor, awaiting our approach; but, to the chagrin of our captain,
and in fact of us all, the "Merrimac" came out ahead, and having been
boarded by the pilot, proceeded slowly in advance, the "Mississippi"
following closely in her wake, without delaying for a second pilot.
It was a perfect morning, and the soft, fresh breeze was very different
from the cold wintery blasts we had left behind us in Boston harbor.
Every object visible was scanned with curious eyes as we entered
the bay and began to thread the channel, rendered very intricate by
the low sand-bars which lay in every direction. These were covered
with sea-fowl of every description, while the myriads of ducks which
blackened the water, made us wish for gun and dog with unceasing and
unsatisfied longing.
Two or three gun-boats were riding at anchor in the harbor, and their
sides were lined with a row of bronzed faces, whose owners cheered us
heartily as we passed slowly by. Fort Macon, of Burnside fame, soon
made its appearance on our left, its guns commanding both land and
water in all directions, and its ramparts dotted with the garrison who
welcomed us as we drew near. The fort is apparently on an island, but
is really on the point of a long neck of land running back for some
miles before uniting with the main. It has been greatly strengthened
since it came into our hands, and, in conjunction with the gun-boats,
bids defiance to any foe.
Beaufort lies on the opposite side of the harbor, and presents a very
pretty appearance as seen at a distance from the water, but does
not improve on a closer acquaintance. The attention is immediately
attracted by a large white building standing on the very edge of the
water, resting under the shadow of the Stars and Stripes. Formerly
the hotel of the place and the summer resort of North Carolinians,
it no longer echoes to the tread of the _élite_ of Newbern, but as a
government hospital is filled with the poor fellows parched with the
fevers which all summer infest the sand-plains on the Neuse, and who
doubtless enjoy the cool breezes from the Atlantic, and the delicious
sea-bath quite as much as those who formerly thronged the place.
Soon the depot came in sight, and there stood the long train of
platform cars, waiting to convey some of us to our destination. The
idea of spending another night on the water was almost unendurable, but
suddenly we perceived quite a commotion on the decks of our leader, and
to our great delight it was soon evident that she was aground. Feeling
our way, as it were, step by step, we drew nearer, and a perfect yell
of exultation went up from our vessel as we glided by our discomfited
rival, and, rejoicing over our victory, steamed alongside the wharf
of what was once the Atlantic and North Carolina Railroad, but now is
known as the United States Military Railroad.
We were quickly disembarked, and soon closely packed on the open
freight cars, rather a novel mode of conveyance to most of us, but
one to be recommended as admirably adapted to sight-seeing, and in
pleasant weather both airy and agreeable. Leaving the 43d and 46th
to pass another night on shipboard, our train was soon on its way to
Newbern, distant about forty miles. Our first stop was at Morehead
City, though why called "city" it would be hard to say, as it contains
but a few miserable houses and a forlorn-looking hotel, famous as the
residence, for a time, of Company C of the 45th, who were quartered
there as garrison. Every little while a picket-station would come in
view, and now and then a camp whose occupants greeted us with shouts of
welcome and inquiries as to our State, number of our regiment, latest
news, etc. A blockhouse commanding the bridge over a small creek was
a novelty, and, as long as daylight lasted, we found enough that was
new and interesting to keep our eyes fully occupied. The country itself
through which the road passes is wholly devoid of interest--in fact, a
vast swamp covered with pine forests, which extend over a great part
of the eastern section of the state; tar, pitch and turpentine being
correctly given by the geography as among the principal productions.
It was quite dark when the train drew near the town of Newbern, and
slowly crossing the long bridge which spans the river Trent, passed
up what we afterwards discovered to be Hancock street, lighted, to
our great astonishment, with gas. We finally came to a halt before a
long freight-house, where a quantity of oats was stored in bags. This
building was assigned to the right wing as their quarters for the
night, and after our cramped bunks on shipboard, we found the oat-bags
very acceptable. The left wing passed the night in some vacant tents
near at hand.
As we were decidedly cold and hungry after our ride, the arrival of
some of the 44th Mass., with pails of hot coffee, was very opportune,
and we regaled them with the latest news from home in return for their
kindness. Their description of the hardships endured on the Tarboro'
expedition, from which they had just returned, did not tend to heighten
our already very far from pleasant impressions of North Carolina as a
place of abode.
As we were taught the productions of North Carolina in our youth, the
negro stood first on the list, and certainly we had seen no reason
to belie that statement. We had not ceased laughing from the time we
landed, at the comical figures which met us on every hand. It was the
first object to meet our eye at the wharf, and I doubt not the last
thing visible as we left the shores of Beaufort on our return. We no
longer wondered where the minstrels at the north procured their absurd
costumes; here was material for an endless variety. It was better than
any play simply to walk about and examine the different styles of
dress, for this was before anything had been done at the north for the
contrabands, and they appeared in the rags they had brought from their
plantations. It was amusing to listen to the questions which greeted
them from all sides, the bright answers often displaying more sense
than did the questions. Some of our men seemed to have taken it for
granted that all the tales they had read of the horrors of slavery were
the general rule, and that the great aim and object of every master's
life was to abuse and maltreat the slave in every possible way. The
erroneous and absurd notions at first entertained by them of the state
of southern society, could only be equalled by the opinions of our
southern friends about the north. One question asked will serve as an
illustration. We were grouped around a fire that first night, talking
with some bright little contrabands, when one of our number asked one
"If his master ever let him stand by such a nice fire as that," which
in that land of pines certainly was rather ridiculous, and, for a
Boston boy, rather an insult to his bringing up.
We employed the two or three hours of leisure the next morning in a
tour of inspection through the town. With our eyes still dazzled with
the bright effulgence of the New England metropolis, and unaccustomed
to the darkness of that benighted land, we unhesitatingly pronounced
it the meanest, dirtiest spot we had ever set foot in. But it did not
take many weeks of camp life, where the only houses visible were the
barracks and a few miserable negro hovels, to create a very decided
change in our views upon this subject, as well as on many others of
like nature.
The town is very prettily situated at the confluence of the Neuse and
Trent, the former between one and two miles wide at this point, the
latter something less than a mile. It is laid out quite regularly and
abounds in elms and flower gardens, many of them very beautiful, and
relieving the otherwise ugly streets. We became better, in fact most
intimately, acquainted with the place when we were quartered there,
and a more minute description will be found further on. Our first
impressions received that morning were, however, certainly the reverse
of pleasant.
[Illustration: CAMP AMORY ON THE TRENT, DEC. 1862.
A BUNK IN THE BARRACKS.]