Sound, called Perquimans. The people were usually kind and courteous,
after they discovered that our disposition was to be friendly toward
them. There were people living there who were in sympathy with the
Federal government, and to whose hospitality we were kindly invited and
welcomed. One day during our stay at Hertford, Paymaster J. W. Sands
and myself procured a buggy and horse, and drove to Edenton, a distance
of twenty miles, and returned to Hertford in the evening. The trip was
not considered a very safe one, on account of the number of
bushwhackers there had been in that vicinity.
Monday, May 1, at 8-1/2 a.m., the Valley City got under weigh, and
arrived at Edenton at 2:10 p.m.; and at 5 p.m. left Edenton and arrived
at Plymouth at 7 p.m. Tuesday, May 9, the Valley City got under weigh
for the purpose of clearing the Roanoke river of torpedoes. The U.S.
steamer Iosco, commanded by Lieutenant Commander James S. Thornton,
accompanied us.
Saturday, May 13, the Valley City and Iosco arrived at Hamilton, N.C.
Captain Thornton, Third Assistant Engineer Amos Harris, Ensign Hull,
and myself went ashore and spent the afternoon. In the morning before
arriving at Hamilton, Lieutenant-Commander James S. Thornton of the
Iosco went ashore, and visited Rainbow Bluff. Captain Thornton made the
remark that the place would have been very difficult to capture with
any naval force, so strongly was it fortified.
Lieutenant-Commander James S. Thornton was executive officer aboard the
U.S. steamer Kearsarge at the time this vessel sunk the rebel blockade
runner Alabama, in which the transaction was so quick and complete.
Captain Thornton stated that at 11 o'clock a.m., of a Sunday, when he
received the report of there being a ship in sight, he was seated in a
chair, with his feet resting on the wardroom table, reading the Bible.
The rattle for general quarters was rung, and the Kearsarge got under
weigh, and proceeded toward the Alabama, sunk her, and by 2 o'clock of
the same afternoon the Kearsarge arrived at Cherbourg, France. Comments
by the citizens of that place were made on the cleanliness of the
Kearsarge after sinking so formidable a vessel as the Alabama.
Monday, May 15, at 1 p.m., the Valley City arrived at Palmyra, N.C. I
visited the town. It is a place of about a half-a-dozen houses, about a
mile from the right bank of the Roanoke river. At this place Captain J.
A. J. Brooks joined the Valley City with the Cotton Plant and Fisher,
two steamers which the Confederates had captured from the Federals at
Plymouth at the time the Southfield was sunk by the rebel ram
Albemarle. There were aboard these boats fifty bales of cotton. In the
evening, pilot John A. Wilson ran the Valley City hard and fast
aground, so that it took the greater part of the night to get her
afloat.
Thursday, May 16, the Valley City steamed up to Ergot's Landing, and
took aboard thirty-nine bales of cotton. Thursday, May 18, the Valley
City got under weigh and proceeded down the Roanoke river and came to
anchor five miles above Hamilton.
Saturday, May 20, at 9 a.m., the Valley City got under weigh, and
proceeded to Hamilton, where we came to an anchor. On Tuesday, May 23,
in the morning Captain J. A. J. Brooks, Paymaster J. W. Sands and
myself went hunting for squirrels. Paymaster Sands separated from us
early in the morning. The Captain and I soon came to a mulberry tree,
on which he shot a squirrel which was after mulberries; another came
and was shot, and before night we shot a dozen. In the evening, upon
returning to the vessel, we met Paymaster Sands, who was also returning
to the vessel. He had been traveling all day in the woods, but did not
shoot a squirrel. We all proceeded to the Valley City, and had the
squirrels cooked for supper, of which we ate heartily, for we were very
hungry. This was the last supper I ate aboard the Valley City.
The following morning, Wednesday, May 24, at 5:30 o'clock, I was
relieved by Acting Assistant Surgeon L. W. Loring, and ordered North on
a two months leave of absence; and now I am to say farewell to the
officers and crew of the Valley City, with whom I have shared their
dangers, their sorrows and their joys, and the old ship I am also to
leave, which has buoyed us so safely over the short and rugged waves of
the waters of North Carolina, amidst the torpedoes, the sharpshooters,
and the artillery of the enemy. This is certainly an occasion of joy,
yet mingled with sadness. "Farewell is a word that has been, a word
that must be, a sound which makes us linger--yet we must say,
farewell."
HOMEWARD BOUND.
I went aboard the Eolus, which proceeded up the Roanoke river, and at
4:30 p.m. we met the Cotton Plant, with Commander W. H. Macomb aboard,
eight miles below Halifax. The Eolus, with the Cotton Plant, returned
to Edward's Ferry, where we arrived at 7 p.m. I went ashore. This
place, which is a large plantation, and was owned by Mr. Wm. Smith, who
owns, or did own, quite a number of slaves, who worked the plantation.
At this time the slaves were cultivating corn. The male slaves, with
hoes to hoe the corn, followed after the female slaves, who drove the
horses and directed the cultivators or ploughs. The rebel ram Albemarle
was constructed at Edward's Ferry, and there was another ram or
iron-clad in process of construction at this place; but it was
destroyed by the rebels at the close of the war. I saw the landing
where these rams were constructed; the chips from them could be seen
lying all around.
Thursday, May 25.--We left Edward's Ferry at 10 a.m., and at 8 p.m. the
Eolus came to an anchor near Poplar Point, where we visited the graves
of those who had been killed in the late action at this place.
Friday, May 26.--The Eolus, with Commander W. H. Macomb on board, got
under weigh and steamed to Plymouth, where we arrived at 12 m.
Commander W. H. Macomb went aboard his own vessel, the Shamrock. At 8
p.m. the Eolus got under weigh and steamed towards Roanoke Island, and
came to an anchor at 12 p.m. in Albemarle Sound.
Saturday, May 27, at 4-1/2 a.m., the Eolus got under weigh and
proceeded to Roanoke Island, where we arrived at 7:15 a.m. At 2-1/2
p.m. I took passage in the boat Washington Irving, which got under
weigh and steamed till 9-1/2 p.m., when I changed into the boat Arrow,
which steamed two miles up the Dismal Swamp canal, and passed by the
wreck of the Fawn, which had been previously captured, sunk and burned
by the rebels, and there came to an anchor. During the night I slept on
a bench, with my boot for a pillow.
Sunday, May 28, the boat Arrow left Coinjock at 5 a.m., and arrived at
Norfolk, Va., at 1 p.m. I took dinner at the National House in that
place. At 2-1/2 p.m. I took passage from Norfolk in the Louisiana, and
arrived at Fortress Monroe at 3-1/2 p.m. We passed by the wreck of the
rebel iron-clad Merrimac. At 5 p.m. the Louisiana got under weigh for
Baltimore, where she arrived Monday, May 29, at 6 o'clock a.m.; and
then I went by way of Philadelphia home, where I arrived about noon of
May 30, 1865.
The atmosphere never seemed to me more salubrious than at this time;
the grass never appeared greener, the flowers never seemed to exhale
more fragrance, and the people never seemed kinder. It seemed a perfect
Paradise compared with the swamps of North Carolina.
During the time of my "leave of absence," I met with the following men
of note, all of whom are now dead: Hon. Thaddeus Stevens I met in the
reading-room of the United States Hotel at Harrisburg, Pa., seated on a
chair with his feet resting on a table, reading the newspapers, a
number of files of which he had lying all around him. He would first
glance at one file and then at another, till he had examined all. I
have heard of two anecdotes told about him. One was, whilst meeting an
enemy face to face on the street in Lancaster, Pa., his enemy said to
Mr. Stevens, "I never turn out of the road of a fool." The latter said
sharply, "I do," and passed around the former. The other incident
occurred whilst Mr. Stevens was very ill in Washington, D.C. A friend
visited him and complimented him on his appearance. Mr. Stevens very
jocularly replied that it was not his appearance that interested him
(Mr. Stevens) so much as his disappearance. I have since visited his
grave in Lancaster, Pa., which has the following inscription upon the
tombstone:
Thaddeus Stevens,
Born at Danville, Caledonia County, Vermont,
April 4, 1792.
Died at Washington, D.C.,
August 11, 1868.
STEVENS.
I repose in this quiet and secluded spot,
Not from any preference for solitude,
But finding other cemeteries limited as to race
by charter rules,
I have chosen this, that I might illustrate
in my death
the principle which I advocated
through a long life,
Equality of man before his Creator.
1792-1868.
I also met in Lancaster, Pa., about the same time, ex-President James
Buchanan. But in the month of June, 1862, I had the curiosity to call
on that gentleman at his home near Lancaster, called Wheatland. I found
an affable, friendly, heavy-set and gray-haired old gentleman, seated
in a chair in his library. After entering into conversation with him
upon general topics, he touched upon his early life, his struggles as a
young man in the profession of law, his nomination and election to the
Presidency of the United States, and also upon his occupancy of that
office. There was anticipation at that time of Richmond being captured
on or before the coming Fourth of July. I asked Mr. Buchanan if he
thought Richmond would be captured by that time. He replied that he did
not, but he hoped that the war for the preservation of the Union would
be successfully terminated by the following July a year. I then asked
him if he thought Napoleon would give his aid to the Confederacy, as it
was rumored at that time that he would do so. He answered that Napoleon
was a man who kept his own counsel. During my stay there, there was a
gentleman called upon him for the purpose of soliciting aid in
defraying the expenses of celebrating the coming Fourth of July at
Lancaster, Pa. He contributed liberally, and told the solicitor if the
amount he had already given him was not sufficient, to call again, and
he would contribute more.
I have since visited his grave at Lancaster, Pa., which has the
following inscription upon the tombstone:
Here rest the remains of
James Buchanan,
Fifteenth President of the United States,
Born in Franklin county, Pa., April 23d, 1781.
Died at Wheatland, January 1, 1868.
(Second side.)
1781-1868.
(Third side.)
BUCHANAN.
I also called on Dr. Samuel Jackson, who, during a long and extended
practice in his profession, had been at one time Henry Clay's
physician. I attended a course of his lectures at the Medical
Department of the University of Pennsylvania. He had lost the use of
his lower extremities, and was seated in a chair, at his home in
Philadelphia, Pa. He stated he had from early life to the present been
a hard student; and as he was about to pass through the portal of this
life into another, he expected still to be a student there. He stated
that it had at different times of his life been a matter of serious
consideration as to how much inflammable matter in a given time the sun
used in warming the space included in the solar system. He said he
expected to be able to make this calculation in another life.
I also met with General James L. Kiernan, in New York city. I was
called to attend him whilst visiting in that city, in an attack of
congestive chills, which he had contracted whilst on duty in the State
of Louisiana. He had stumped several of the northern States for
President Lincoln's second election, and had been appointed United
States Consul to China after that election. He filled this office till
the close of President Johnson's administration. He was a man about
forty-five years of age, an excellent conversationalist, a good
companion, and a fine orator.
On September 23, 1865, I was ordered to Cairo, Ill., for duty aboard
the U.S. monitors Oneota and Catawba, as a relief to Acting Assistant
Surgeon Geo. C. Osgood. I reported to Commodore J. W. Livingston for
duty October 6, 1865, having arrived in Cairo on the previous evening.
I stopped at the St. Charles Hotel all night. The weather was very hot
and dry, the river was low, and for a distance along shore an unhealthy
green foam had gathered along the edge of the river. Congestive chills
were quite prevalent there that fall.
Cairo is a large and thriving town, situated at the extreme southern
point of the state of Illinois. Many of the houses then were built on
stilts or posts. The sidewalks were also resting on stilts or posts, so
that in crossing a street a person would have to walk down a pair of
stairs, then across the street, and mount another pair of stairs.
During the time of a rise in the Mississippi or Ohio river, the place
was flooded, and then the citizens would use boats for the purpose of
navigating from place to place. The town was somewhat protected from
overflows by levees.
The monitors were very nicely finished and furnished inside. The deck
was about six inches above water. There were four monitors anchored in
line in the middle of the Ohio river off Cairo. The names of them were
as follows: Oneota, Catawba, Manyyunk and Tippecanoe. The officers of
all these vessels messed aboard the U.S. monitor Oneota. Acting
Lieutenant Commander Wells was the captain of the Oneota. He was
afterwards relieved by Acting Master H. E. Bartlett. Thomas Cook was
her chief engineer, and Don Carlos Hasseltino was chief engineer of the
monitor Catawba. One of the officers of the Oneota was a persistent
story-teller, and the only way to get him to stop telling his story was
to suggest to him to make a chalk mark and finish the remainder of it
the following day. One day, early in the morning, he and I went ashore
in Kentucky, hunting; and hunted all day without any dinner. I got very
tired and left him, and returned to the boat, which was made fast
ashore opposite to the junction of the Mississippi and Ohio rivers,
where I lay down on a brush-heap and fell asleep; but when my companion
started to row to the Oneota, the rattling of the oars awakened me,
otherwise I would have been left. One time, during a freshet in the
Ohio river, I think in January, I had occasion to go to one of the
monitors anchored in the rear of the Oneota. After arriving on that
monitor, in our attempt to return, I found that the boat could make no
headway against the current. We struck over along the Kentucky bank of
the river, and did what the sailor calls "cheating the current;" that
is, we rowed up along the bank of the river. After rowing above the
Oneota, we crossed the bows of the Oneota and threw out the end of a
painter, which was instantly tied around the stanchion of the Oneota.
The painter broke, and down the river the boat was carried by the
current; but somebody aboard the Oneota threw the end of a rope
overboard, which we caught, and we were pulled back aboard. Another
time during the freshet, Mr. Thomas Cook and I went ashore, and were
nearly carried by the swift current between two packet boats, but we
fortunately saved ourselves.
A pilot wishing to cross with a packet-boat before or in front of the
Oneota's bows, from a landing on the Cairo side of the river to the
Kentucky side, ran the boat into the Oneota, and the packet was sunk.
The packet-boat was laden with passengers, who were all saved.
Don Carlos Hasseltino was chief engineer of the U.S. monitor Catawba,
but spent most of his time on board the U.S. monitor Oneota, and was
one of the mess-mates of that vessel. I associated with him constantly
from October 6, 1865, to January 16, 1866. He was a jolly, kind,
sympathetic, and intelligent associate. In height he was about six
feet, and had a large, wiry frame. His hair and eyes were black; he
wore a black moustache. He never gave offence to any one, but would not
suffer himself to be insulted. He carried two Derringers in leather
pockets buttoned to his pantaloons above the hips. He was very polite
and chivalrous; woe to the person that gave offense or offered insult.
I insert here a sketch of his life.
[From the Cincinnati Enquirer of 1880.]
"A LIFE OF ADVENTURE.
"GENERAL DON CARLOS HASSELTINO'S STORY OF HIS STARTLING
CAREER--REBEL SPY AND UNION OFFICER--HIS ADVENTURE IN THE ARMY IN
PERU AS A CUBAN REFUGEE.
"General Don Carlos Hasseltino was met by an _Enquirer_ reporter on
a Wabash train the other day. His life has been one of adventure.
Previous to the war he graduated at Oxford, in Butler county, in
the same class with the gallant Joe Battle, who, with his brother,
fell beside their father at Shiloh, while fighting under the flag
of the Lost Cause. After graduating he went to Hamilton and read
law with Judge Clark, who acquired some notoriety at Hamilton by
his advocacy of the right of secession in 1860-61. When the war
begun, Hasseltino determined to risk his fortunes with the
Confederacy. He started South under the pretext of escorting to her
husband in Tennessee Mrs. Dallie, the wife of Adjutant Joe Battle,
of the Sixth Tennessee. They passed south from Louisville on the
last train which left that city before the war, and arrived at
Nashville. From there, young Hasseltino went to Montgomery, Ala.,
then the Confederate capital, where he was appointed Major, and a
little later Lieutenant-Colonel; and was ordered to Pensacola, Fla.
When that place fell into the hands of the National troops, he was
captured; but within a day or two he made his escape. His next
point of duty was at Fort McHenry, from whence he went to
Louisville and bought for the Confederate troops a quantity of
supplies, and succeeded in getting them safely within the
Confederate lines. When General Grant was advancing upon Fort
Donaldson, he went out as a spy, and spent most of three days with
the Federals. Being recognized, he was ordered to be shot at nine
o'clock in the evening, but in the rain and darkness made his
escape, and reached the fort at daylight the next morning, drenched
and almost frozen. Upon his report being heard, it was decided to
evacuate the fort with most of the forces. From Island No. 10 he
fell back to Memphis; and, believing that nothing would stay the
victorious march of the Union arms, sent in his resignation, which
was accepted.
"SECURING A PASS NORTH.
"When the Federals occupied Memphis he remained here, trusting to
nerve and luck to get away. To his horror he learned the next day
that Colonel Alexander, of the Forty-eighth Indiana, with whom he
was at college, was made Provost Marshal of the post, and that no
one could leave the city except on a pass issued by him. He had
some knowledge of French, and had grown quite a beard since leaving
school, and he determined to take the risk. Walking into the
Colonel's room, with many shrugs and gesticulations he asked for a
'Permissio San Louie,' and urged it with such vehemence that the
Colonel finally said to his assistant, 'Give the d--d Frenchman a
pass to St. Louis.' While going up the river he was in constant
dread of recognition, but fortunately did not meet a soul whom he
knew. Hardly had he landed when he met a former school-mate and
intimate friend from Hamilton, who was then Assistant Engineer in
the Navy. His friend knew that he had gone south, and accused him
of being in St. Louis as a spy. This he denied, and then told him
all the details of his adventures, and finally appealed to his
friend for advice as to what he should do or where he should go,
for he began to feel unsafe there. His friend advised him not to
return to Hamilton, where he would be in certain danger; and
finally suggested that he apply for an appointment as an assistant
engineer in the navy. 'Why, I don't know a steam-engine from a
horse-power,' was his answer. But his friend proposed to help him
out, and provided him with a lot of books, which would teach him
all the theory; and at them he went; and in six weeks he went
before the Examining Board and passed as a first assistant
engineer, and was ordered to duty on the gunboat Essex, the
flag-ship of Commodore Porter, who was in command of the
Mississippi river flotilla. This was jumping out of the frying-pan
into the fire. He knew nothing practically of the engine, thinking
then, as he told his friend, that 'the pumping engine must be for
the purpose of moving the vessel sidewise.' But luck was on his
side. While lying in port, or before going to duty, he got a few
talks with Commodore Porter, and succeeded in getting to the rank
of Chief Engineer in the navy, and assigned to duty on the staff of
the Commodore. If those who read this will take the trouble to read
the report of the Secretary of the Navy to Congress in 1864, they
will find that that official transmitted to Congress that part of
Commodore Porter's report which embraces a report of Chief Engineer
Hasseltino on the construction of iron-clad gunboats, and
recommended the adoption of the report.
"INSPECTING GOVERNMENT IRON-CLADS.
"After the close of the ill-fated Red river campaign, Hasseltino
was ordered to St. Louis to inspect and superintend the
construction of the iron-clads which were being built by McCord &
Co. But just before leaving his vessel he had a quarrel with a
fellow-officer, whom he challenged; but when the challenge was
declined he opened on the other party with a battery of Derringers,
fortunately missing the object of his aim.
"In 1865, he went to some European port and brought a blockade
runner, the name of which I have forgotten. In the early part of
1866, he was mustered out of service and went to New Orleans,
intending to go into business. In the July riots he was shot
through the shoulder; and, thinking the climate unhealthy, went to
St. Louis. Here he fell in with a representative of the government
of Chili, and went to South America.
"In an attack on Callao--for Peru and Chili were at war--he fell
into the hands of the Peruvians, and with his usual luck was
sentenced to be shot. By bribing the guards, he succeeded in
escaping and making his way on board of an English vessel, and was
landed at Panama. Crossing the Isthmus to Aspinwall, he found a
vessel ready to leave for New Orleans; and, though without money,
managed to secure a passage to that place.
"Without money he was naturally open for any adventure, and a
representative of the Cuban rebellion was the first to offer him a
chance. He sailed directly to Nuevitas, and before he had been in
that port a week had fallen in love with a young Cuban widow, who,
though childless, was possessed of an immense plantation. After the
briefest possible courtship, they were married in the latter part
of 1867 or early in 1868; within three months of the wedding she
died from yellow fever; and before the end of the year her estate,
which he had inherited, was confiscated, and he barely escaped with
his life, landing in Florida in an open boat and in a half-starved
condition, without friends or money. He managed to reach
Indianapolis in July, 1869, when a naval acquaintance and friend,
James Noble, gave him an outfit of clothes and money sufficient to
take him to Chicago. Here he determined to locate, and went to work
to find business. He got an agency for the sale of coal, and soon
had quite a start in the coal business. When the Chicago fire broke
out, on that dreadful Sunday night, he was out on the lake boating
with a party of friends. When he got back, the conflagration had
swept his little coal pile, his office and sleeping room, and he
was again left in the world without a change of clothes, and with
less than five dollars in money. The third day of the fire he was
found by Otto Hasselman, of the Indianapolis _Journal_, who was
on the ground with a corps of reporters; and by him sent to
Indianapolis, where he was again furnished with an outfit and a
ticket to St. Louis. Shortly after reaching that place he entered
the service of the wholesale house of R. L. Billingsley & Co., and
remained with them until a year ago, when he purchased a farm in
Illinois."
January 16, 1866, I received a two month's "leave of absence," at the
expiration of which I received the following discharge:
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,
NAVY DEPARTMENT.
The war for the preservation of the Union having, under the
beneficent guidance of Almighty God, been brought to a successful
termination, a reduction of the naval force becomes necessary.
Having served with fidelity in the United States Navy from the 22d
day of March, 1864, to the present date, you are hereby honorably
discharged with the thanks of the Department.
Given under my hand and seal, at the city of Washington, this 23d
day of March, one thousand eight hundred and sixty-six.