A TRIP TO TRENTON.
We had but fairly settled down to the old story of drill and parade,
our lameness healed, and the excitement of the scenes through which
we had so lately passed somewhat allayed, when rumors of another
expedition began to float about the camp. These were vague at first,
but increased in strength from day to day, until we became convinced
of their truth by the announcement at dress-parade of the order to be
in readiness on a certain day, with three days' rations ready cooked.
Having learned wisdom by experience, we understood better how to
prepare for a march. My first care was to procure a body-guard in the
shape of a stout contraband youth, to relieve me of my blankets and
look after my interests generally; the next was to make some provision
for the inner man, additional to that of government, which had failed
us before in the hour of need. Thanks to a box from home, a ham, not
quite demolished, made an excellent substitute for salt junk, and a
package of rice also found its way into our haversack. This possessed
the double advantage of furnishing great nourishment and occupying but
a small space in the bag.
Several gentlemen from Boston, who had arrived shortly before our
departure, had an opportunity of seeing the regiment leave camp on
an expedition. Our force consisted of one brigade of infantry,--1st
Brigade, 1st Division, 18th Army Corps,--a squadron of cavalry, with
a small howitzer, and a section of artillery, all under command of
Colonel Amory, our brigade commander. Two or three unsuccessful
attempts to start had been made, as a storm prevented, but Saturday,
the 17th, dawned, a clear, cold January day, and shortly after
breakfast we left camp and were soon fairly on our way. While awaiting
the arrival of the detachment of cavalry and artillery which was
to accompany us, a very amusing scene occurred, in the shape of an
extempore drill by some of the contrabands--our camp followers--under
the leadership of a deep-voiced darkey, whose orders were, to say the
least, remarkable: such as, "In three ranks count twos, Right smart,
Git!" while the execution of these manoeuvres was, if possible, even
more ludicrous than the orders themselves.
The first day's march was through an uninteresting section of country,
very sparsely settled, and more hilly than any we had passed through
before. The march was quite reasonable, bringing us to the village of
Pollocksville, distant a little more than twelve miles from Newbern.
The town comprised only about half-a-dozen houses, remarkable solely
for their homeliness. The place, however, once boasted a private school
of some pretensions. The large white building, not far from the town,
standing a little distance from the road, immediately attracted our
attention, and a halt occurring just then, we made an inspection.
Some circulars were found setting forth the merits of the school, and
advising parents not to let the distractions of war interfere with
the education of their children. But teachers and scholars had alike
disappeared long since, and the building alone remained, forlorn and
desolate.
As we entered the village, two or three men were seen in the distance,
and some of the cavalry immediately dashed off at full run in hot
pursuit, but, having gained the woods, they made good their escape. The
half-dozen houses were mostly deserted, and extensive levies were made
upon them for boards, which, covered with a sufficient number of weeds
and stalks, made a bed fit for a king, and almost too luxurious for
a soldier. Taking it quite leisurely the next morning, as some trees
felled across the road caused delay, we started _en route_ for Trenton,
leaving part of our force to guard the baggage-train which remained at
Pollocksville.
This day's march was, without exception, the pleasantest in all our
experience. We were not hurried, as always before, and had some
opportunity to look about and see the country through which we were
passing. This section had been very little disturbed by raiding
armies; the plantations grew larger the further we advanced, and the
houses had a very comfortable, hospitable appearance, but as foraging
was strictly forbidden, a close inspection was out of the question.
For some distance the road skirted a cypress swamp, a most desolate,
gloomy spot, the old trees, hoary with the long gray moss which hung in
festoons from every limb, and surrounded with slimy water, suggestive
of snakes and horrible reptiles,--secure retreat for the fugitive.
Our command entered Trenton without opposition, a small force of the
enemy retreating in hot haste on the approach of our cavalry. After
going into camp and disposing of our luggage, we wandered about the
town, seeking what we might devour, but finding little to reward us for
our pains. The town is prettily situated on the river Trent, but the
houses and people were forlorn and dirty enough. The post-office was
ransacked, but little besides recruiting bills was to be found. One
great object in coming to this place was to destroy the bridge across
the Trent, and so prevent any advance on Newbern from this direction.
Our arrival was a happy event for the slaves in and about the town, and
they spent the night in preparation for their exodus from the land of
bondage. The bridge burned, we started on the back road, accompanied
by a long train of contrabands. A mill at the entrance of the town was
fired to prevent the use of its timbers for the reconstruction of the
bridge, and as the groan of the machinery rose above the roar of the
flames, we could imagine it some huge creature awaiting in agony a
fiery death.
The next night we spent at our old camp at Pollocksville, and very
narrowly escaped quite a serious disaster; for the grass in the
large field where we encamped, being quite high and dry, took fire,
and burned with such violence that it was only by great exertion
that we saved our guns and traps from destruction. With replenished
haversacks, we made a fresh start the next morning in the direction of
Onslow Court House, following in the tracks of the cavalry, who had
started the previous afternoon with two pieces of artillery. Early
in the afternoon we reached a place called Young's Cross Roads, where
the cavalry had captured an army wagon and a few prisoners. Here we
bivouacked, and as the sky looked threatening, made preparations for a
stormy night, for we were to await the return of the cavalry, or, if
needful, go on to their support.
While hard at work, making as good shelter as possible with boards
and rubber blankets, round came the orderly with the detail for
picket duty, our name among the rest; so, dropping rails and boards,
and once more donning our harness, we reported with our squad to the
officer of the guard. The road we were detached to guard led to some
mills,--Packard's, by name,--and every little while three or four men
were dropped off under charge of a corporal, until the lieutenant
announced that the next station would be the reserve, with a guard of
twenty. Such of our company as were detailed on guard, were among this
lucky number, and we quickly set to work to prepare our camp.
Fortunately the spot selected was opposite to a clearing where
there were several large piles of rails, ready for use. These were
immediately appropriated and rigged up for a roof and floor. Meanwhile,
some of the party, sent on a foraging expedition, returned with a
supply of sweet potatoes and their tin cups filled with delicious
honey. As we were at work, an old darkey came along in an ox-team with
meal from the mill, and the poor fellow was unlucky enough to have
on a rebel overcoat, the buttons of which quickly disappeared under
the knives of trophy seekers. On coming to the main camp the meal was
confiscated, so the old man decided that he would rather go with us to
Newbern than face his master's wrath.
As night came on, the sky grew blacker and blacker, and at length the
storm burst upon us in all its fury. For a time our arrangements worked
nicely, and our rubber blankets formed a good protection overhead, but
after a while the rain discovered the weak spots, and little streams
of water began to trickle into our faces and run down our backs. Sleep
was out of the question, so we all got up and huddled about the embers
of the smouldering fire, but to little purpose. The heavens seemed
literally to have opened their flood-gates, and the floods descended.
If we stepped off the rails we immediately sank knee-deep in mud, and
our beds would have delighted the soul of the most fastidious porker;
drenched from head to foot, with no prospect of even a wink of sleep,
we waited as patiently as might be for the coming day.
Towards morning the storm abated in violence; so we built up a roaring
fire, and made ourselves comparatively comfortable, our spirits
returning with the light, and by ration time we were as bright as if
we had passed a most delightful night. Having dried our clothes and
blankets as well as the circumstances permitted, about nine o'clock we
rejoined the regiment, most of whom had been drowned out in the night,
and suffered an experience similar to our own. The cavalry had returned
in the night, after riding about thirty miles, their progress having
been stopped by the burning of a bridge near Onslow Court House. They
were followed back by a long procession of contrabands, with faces
turned eastward.
About half-past nine that same morning, we started on our return
march. The rain had subsided into a fine drizzle, and the roads were
somewhat inclined to be muddy. The head of the column pushed along as
though hotly pursued by the enemy, stopping for about twenty minutes at
the end of the first five miles. We hurried on through Pollocksville
without halting, taking a breathing spell and dinner just beyond the
village, and then the fun commenced. Mud was king that day. Not like
our New England mud, barely deep enough to soil your boots, but real
old Southern mud, fathomless, immeasurable. Every little while we were
greeted with solemn farewells by unfortunate ones disappearing rapidly
from view, bound on a terrestrial voyage to China by the air, or
rather earth, line. One poor wretch, stepping into a deceitful puddle,
descended to his waist; then, unable to proceed either up or down,
concluded to remain where he was, for want of a better place, until,
having furnished much sport to the crowd, two of his comrades, taking
pity on his helpless condition, seized him by the shoulders, and landed
him once more on _terra firma_.
Every mile or two, streams, intended for peaceful, babbling brooks,
but which, swollen by the rains, had became raging torrents and angry
rivers on a small scale, crossed the road. Some we forded, others we
waded for lack of better means of transit. Occasionally rail bridges
spanned the stream at the side of the road, tempting the unwary one,
and some unlucky one would now and then disappear from them into the
roaring flood, and emerge looking quite moist and crestfallen, with
his gun in excellent order for use. Little streaks of clay cropped up
here and there along the road, holding the feet as in a vice, and he
was lucky who retained his shoes in the struggle. Still, on rushed the
van, as if life itself was at stake, if camp were not reached at an
early hour; so, resigning ourselves to our fate, we tumbled along with
the rest. The column must have resembled in appearance the army in the
stampede of Bull Run. Every man running a race with his neighbor, all
discipline thrown to the winds, and the one who reached camp first, the
best fellow.
Although, without exception, the hardest day in all our campaign, we
never had a merrier one. There were more jokes in that afternoon than
in an ordinary month; and it may be set down as an axiom, that, in the
army, the harder the work, and the more dismal the circumstances, the
better humor the men will be in. But all misery has an end, and so
did ours; for, about five o'clock that Saturday afternoon, we found
ourselves safe and sound in the old barracks, without having fired a
gun or lost a man. So ended our second expedition, we having on this
last day marched, in a little more than seven hours, including all
halts, twenty-one miles, on the muddiest road it has ever been our lot
to see, or hope to see, disfigure the face of the earth.
In addition to the letters from home, pleasing rumors greeted us on
our return, to the effect, that, for a time at least, we were to know
no more expeditions, but were soon to take up our quarters in Newbern
as provost guard. After time to rest and discuss this good news in its
every possible feature, we were rewarded for past labors by the reading
of the order for the 45th Mass., Colonel Codman commanding, to relieve
the 17th Mass., at Newbern, on the 25th instant. The intervening
time was spent in preparations for departure, collecting our numerous
movables, taking down shelves, hiring donkey-carts, etc., and on the
24th we retired to our bunks in old Camp Amory for the last time, the
anticipation of the morrow engrossing every thought, and rendering
sleep of little moment.
[Illustration: HELIOTYPE PRINTING CO. BOSTON.
QUARTERS OF COMPANY A, AT NEWBERN.]