THE REVIEW IN FORTRESS MONROE--A FOURTH OF JULY
BATTLE--FORMATION OF THE MASSACHUSETTS BATTALION--CAPTAIN
LEACH’S COMPANY SENT TO THE RIP-RAPS--GUARDING
PRISONERS--BURNING OF HAMPTON BY THE CONFEDERATES--THE
BATTALION SENT TO NEWPORT NEWS.
We have already spoken of the presence in the department of the
Secretary of War, and his review of the Third and Fourth regiments at
Camp Hamilton. On the fourth day of July, the garrison of Fortress
Monroe was reviewed by that officer, General Butler, and Colonel
Dimick. At that time Captain Leach’s company was stationed at the fort,
and was reviewed with the rest of the troops. Probably no member of
that company will soon forget the chagrin which he and all his comrades
experienced that day on account of the shabbiness of their uniforms.
There was not one soldier in ten of the company whose trousers were
not in tatters, and whose shirt--for they had neither dress-coats nor
blouses--was not faded to a dingy yellow and out at the elbows. The
grotesque style of their uniforms, which are particularly described
in a previous chapter, and the poor quality of their arms, added to
their generally ragged condition, made them disagreeably conspicuous,
especially as they formed on the immediate left of the regulars, a
well-drilled and finely-uniformed and equipped body of soldiers. When
the inspecting party, in full dress, came riding down the line, and
their eyes fell upon the shabby-looking Massachusetts boys, Secretary
Cameron was so much surprised, that he turned to General Butler and
asked, “What terribly ragged troops are these?” The General was
greatly mortified to be compelled to state in reply, that they were
Massachusetts volunteers. When the equipments of the men were inspected
by one of the staff officers, he found that their cartridge-boxes were
empty, although they had been on duty there for more than a month.[17]
The public disgrace which the men were compelled to suffer on this
occasion was partially compensated on the following day, by an issue to
them of a full suit of United States infantry uniform, including the
dress-hat and coat.
Beside this inspection, the Fourth was attended by two other incidents
of an entirely different nature. A little after noon, the United
States gunboat “Pawnee” weighed anchor, and, steaming across the
Roads, commenced a spirited attack upon the Confederate land-batteries
at Sewall’s Point. The fight took place in plain view of the whole
garrison, the troops off duty lining the parapets and watching every
movement and every shot with the most intense interest. The steamer was
very rapid in her movements, and managed to expose but little of her
hull to the enemy’s gunners. Her shell were often seen to explode in
the tree-tops and about the shore, while those of the hostile batteries
frequently passed through her rigging and plunged into the water near
her, throwing up beautiful jets of silvery spray and foam.
Towards night a threatening black cloud arose in the south, while a
fresh wind was blowing from the opposite quarter. There were a number
of war-vessels in the Roads, and among them the brig “Perry,” a very
snugly-rigged and peculiarly trim-looking vessel. About six o’clock,
the latter was observed to be making sail, and in the course of a few
minutes was heading towards Cape Henry, speeding before the breeze like
a bird. It was but a short time before the hull of the vessel was lost
to view; but against the dark background of the clouds, from out of
which there frequently came flashes of lightning, the snowy sails of
the brig were for a long time plainly visible.
At short distances apart, along the shore near which she was passing,
were Confederate sand-batteries. As the brig approached them, suddenly
a flash of flame was seen to dart out of the woods on the shore,
and quickly in response a flash from under the white sails of the
vessel,--for her hull was still invisible,--and then, after the lapse
of a few seconds, came reverberating across the dark water the sullen
boom of a gun, mingled with a peal of thunder. This fine display
continued till some time after it was quite dark, when the rain began
to descend in large drops, driving the spectators from the parapets.
There was a succession of heavy rainstorms, accompanied by severe
thunder and lightning, lasting nearly all night.
When the Third and Fourth regiments retired from the service, the
seven three-years’ companies became so many unattached and independent
commands, the necessities of whose members, as well as the true
interests of the Government, demanded that they should speedily become
an organized body, having a responsible commander and such other
officers as the actual needs of field life always require. General
Butler, appreciating the situation of these soldiers, promptly issued
the following order:--
“HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF VIRGINIA, }
FORTRESS MONROE, VA., July 16, 1861. }
“SPECIAL ORDERS, NO. 144.
“Captain Barnes, Massachusetts Volunteers, is assigned to the
command of the companies of Massachusetts Volunteers now in the
department and not organized into a regiment. Captain Barnes
will appoint from the subalterns of his command an officer to
perform the duties of an Acting Assistant Quartermaster and
Acting Assistant Commissary of Subsistence.
“(Official.) By command of Major-General Butler.
“(Signed) T. J. HAINES, A. A. A. G.
“(Signed) WM. D. WHIPPLE, A. A. G.”
Captain Barnes, upon assuming command of these troops (which were
designated by Adjutant-General Schouler, in his reports, as the First
Battalion of Massachusetts Volunteers), appointed First Lieutenant John
B. Collingwood, Adjutant; First Lieutenant Joshua Norton, 3d, Acting
Assistant Quartermaster; and Sergeant Henry S. Braden, Sergeant-Major.
By an order from General Butler, also dated July 16, Captain Leach was
directed to proceed with his company to the little island in Hampton
Roads known as the Rip-Raps, to relieve a detachment of the Third
Regiment there stationed. Here, some years before, the Government had
begun the erection of a fortification called Fort Calhoun, the name
of which was changed during the war to Fort Wool. Several guns had
been mounted about the partially-completed works, and on the wharf a
rifled cannon of heavy calibre, known as the Sawyer rifle. The island
was then being used as a place of confinement for Confederate prisoners
and Federal soldiers under sentence of court-martial, though at the
time Captain Leach took command, there were only four or five prisoners
at the place, and those civilians, who had been captured by the Union
gunboats in the act of transporting from the eastern shore of Virginia
to the enemy’s camp at Yorktown, arms and munitions of war; but, later
in the year, a part of the prisoners captured by General Burnside in
his Hatteras expedition were sent here, swelling the number to about
sixty. These prisoners were comfortably quartered in a part of one of
the barracks occupied by Captain Leach’s men, and were provided with
the same rations as the soldiers, which were ample and wholesome,
being treated in many respects by our men more like companions than
prisoners; they were usually allowed the liberties of the island,
subjected to little if any restraint, passing the long summer days in
fishing from the wharf, and watching the movements of our war-vessels.
On the 26th of July, Captain Tyler’s company, then commanded by Captain
Wilson, was also ordered to Fort Wool. With the exception of mounting
cannon, a work never regarded by the soldiers with much favor, the
duties imposed upon the garrison here were very light, the limited size
of the grounds making it impossible to conduct any military evolutions,
beside a simple dress-parade, and hence the men were exempted from
drill duty, an immunity, however, that was not at all to their
advantage.
A short time before the transfer of Captain Leach’s company to this
post, a number of the privates and non-commissioned officers of his
command had been detailed for guard duty on board the United States
gunboat “Anacosta,” then commanded by Commander Collins, U. S. N., the
same officer who afterwards, while in command of the “Wachusett,” so
distinguished himself by the capture of the Confederate war-steamer
“Florida,” in the Bay of San Salvador.
The operations of the enemy in the vicinity of Sewall’s Point, at the
mouth of the Elizabeth River, about two and a half miles from the
Rip-Raps, rendered it essential to maintain a close watch of that
locality, as a successful night attack upon the little garrison at Fort
Wool was entirely feasible. The duty performed by the “Anacosta” was
that of watching at night the hostile shore, and warning our fleet in
Hampton Roads of the approach of fire-rafts and floating torpedoes.
Some time in August, the “Anacosta” was relieved, and the guard ordered
to return to their company.
The country which lay between our lines and those of the enemy was to
a great extent heavily wooded, was from ten to twelve miles in length,
and extended from the shore of the Chesapeake Bay to the James River.
Here and there throughout this wild region, in little clearings in
the forest, often miles apart, were farm-houses and a few acres of
cultivated land, and threading the whole country were numerous roads
and horse-paths. This whole region was a common scouting-ground for
both armies, and a love of adventure often led our soldiers to advance,
in squads of ten or twenty, far into the country.
On the night of the 18th of July, a party composed of Major Rawlins, an
officer of a Pennsylvania regiment, a Mr. Shurtleff, an artist, Major
Halliday, Captain Jenkins, and two others, started from the vicinity of
Fortress Monroe, and proceeded some eight miles toward Yorktown. This
foolish adventure had a very sad termination, for while the party were
picking their way along the dark forest road, they were fired upon by a
body of the enemy, who lay concealed. Major Rawlins was killed, Jenkins
and Shurtleff were captured, while Halliday and the rest of the party,
by a hasty flight, managed to escape. This sad affair tended to check
these ill-advised excursions, and to teach all who had a passion for
reckless adventure a timely lesson.
The five companies under Barnes remained in Hampton, after the
departure of the Fourth Regiment, until about July 30, when they were
ordered back to the fort, and garrisoned a redoubt that during the
summer had been erected just outside the water battery of the fortress,
on the sand-beach. The Battalion remained here till August 5, when it
was ordered by General Butler to take post at Camp Hamilton, about one
mile distant from the fortress, and in the direction of Hampton. The
number of troops in the department had been materially decreased since
the battle of Bull Run, and it was doubtless considered imprudent for a
small force to occupy Hampton, and accordingly the troops had all been
drawn in from the town, and were now stationed at Camp Hamilton.
For several days there had been indications of an advance by the enemy
in the direction of the town. Deserters and others who came into our
lines reported that such a movement was in progress; but it was not
till the 7th of August that these stories were confirmed. On that day,
it became evident to all that the enemy in force were actually moving
forward, and apparently directly towards Hampton. The purpose of this
movement at this time could not be understood by our officers. Our
troops were not occupying Hampton, and the small force at Camp Hamilton
could, if necessary, be easily retired into the fortress; besides, the
enemy could not expect to be able to occupy and hold either Hampton
or Camp Hamilton, under the guns of the fort and our fleet. It was
therefore thought that the movement towards the town was a ruse, and
that the real attack would be made on the camp at Newport News. At
sundown of the 7th, the position of affairs remained unchanged. One
thing was clear: the enemy was advancing, and rapidly approaching
Hampton. To guard against surprise, General Butler had directed that
a number of transports be held in readiness to convey troops up the
James, to Newport News, if necessary, and the reserve commands were
ordered to be prepared to move at a moment’s notice.
Besides the five companies of our Massachusetts Battalion, there
were stationed at Camp Hamilton, Col. Max Weber’s Twentieth New York
Regiment and a portion of the Naval Brigade (Ninety-ninth New York
Regiment).[18] A strong picket-line was posted on the bank of Hampton
Creek; and at the bridge, which had been partially destroyed, was
stationed a guard from the Battalion under Lieutenant Mayo of Company
E. In the evening, General Butler visited the camp, for the purpose of
ascertaining any new developments. All was quiet, no sound came from
the pickets, and the town was silent. The General, after imparting
to the several battalion commanders such information and directions
as he deemed essential, returned to the fort. The night was black,
and the wind blew freshly from the south. At about nine o’clock,
our pickets were suddenly startled by the shouting of the negroes
(who still remained in the village), and presently the regular tramp
of marching soldiers was heard by our men. Then appeared two long
rows of torches, lighting up the dark, narrow ways and the windows
of the deserted houses. Suddenly the column halted, and the flaming
torches were seen dancing about wildly in all directions, like so many
will-o’-the-wisps. And now the quiet of the night was broken by loud
yells, the houses were entered and fired, and soon the whole town was
enveloped in flames, casting a bright light over the bay, and revealing
to our soldiers the forms of the enemy as they moved about the streets.
Our Massachusetts men at the bridge soon began to fire, and the sharp
crack of rifles was added to the roar of the flames. The fire of our
soldiers became very galling to the enemy, and he sought to dislodge
them, making a bold dash for the bridge, at the head of which stood our
men, behind a hastily-constructed barricade. The bridge was long and
narrow, and the enemy came on at a quick run. They had advanced but a
short distance, when a sharp fire from our lines drove them back with
some loss. Several other, though feeble, attempts were made to drive
our men from the bridge; but each attempt signally failed, and the
picket-firing was kept up at intervals throughout the night.
That was indeed a memorable night in the history of the Battalion. The
loud roar of the flames, the cries of the terrified negroes as they
were being driven from their huts by the enemy and marched off under
guard into their lines, all combined to make up a wild scene the terror
of which was not a little heightened by the presence of our gunboats in
the Roads, which kept up a vigorous bombardment of the fields and woods
about the town, and occasionally threw a huge shell into the burning
village, scattering the fragments of the buildings, and carrying
consternation to the enemy.
There were not lacking acts of brutality on the part of those who were
guilty of this wicked deed. Living in the village were an old white
gentleman and his aged wife, who had many times befriended the Union
troops, and whose son was a major in that portion of the Confederate
army that destroyed the town. This major led the burning party which
fired the place; but not satisfied with this work, he must needs visit
upon his parents, whom he suspected of harboring sentiments of loyalty
to the old flag, an act of vengeance as cowardly as it was revolting.
Going in the darkness to their house, which was on the outskirts of the
village, in harsh tones he ordered them to leave it in fifteen minutes,
or, to use his own language, “I’ll burn it over your heads.” These aged
persons, having on scarcely any clothing save their night-garments,
rushed out into the gloom of that awful night. The son, now filled with
frenzy, heedless of the cries and supplications of his parents, applied
the torch with his own hand to the home that had sheltered him in
youth. In the light of their burning dwelling, the horror-stricken pair
hastened to the river, and jumping into a small skiff, gained the Union
camp.[19]
From sundown of the 7th till late into the forenoon of the following
day, the Battalion remained in position on the easterly side of the
creek, picketing its banks, closely watching the town, and successfully
resisting every attempt of the enemy to cross over. Quite early in the
morning of the 8th, the Confederates withdrew, driving before them
a horde of panic-stricken negroes, and carrying away a considerable
number of their own killed and wounded.
The result of that night’s insane work was the burning of nearly five
hundred buildings, and the destruction of property to the value of many
thousands of dollars; and the only reason ever assigned for this piece
of vandalism, was, that the town might not furnish winter cantonments
for the Federal troops. But the burning of the village inflicted no
material injury upon the Federals; it rather relieved them of the grave
responsibility of guarding it, and protecting from plunder the many
articles of great value left there by its former occupants. Hampton,
which was settled in 1705, contained at the time of its evacuation in
May, 1861, a population of about 1,500 souls, and was one of the finest
towns in the Old Dominion. A creek, called Hampton Creek, spanned by
the long wooden bridge before mentioned, divided the town unequally,
the village proper being on the westerly bank, and containing about
five hundred buildings, among them several churches, one an ancient
brick structure, ivy-clad, in the burial-yard of which were the graves
of several distinguished Virginians. In the belfry of this church (one
of the oldest in the State) hung a bell cast in England, and connected
with it were many historic associations. In the war of the Revolution,
and again in 1812, it had been desecrated by British soldiers and
sailors. “It ought to have been spared,” says a writer, “as a venerable
and sacred relic”; but all its worth and antiquity were not proof
against the barbarity that consigned it to ruin.
On the Fortress Monroe side of the creek were many fine buildings and
elegant private residences, all of which were spared, through the
efforts of our men. Near the fort was the Chesapeake Female Seminary,
and nearer the village was the residence of ex-President Tyler, the
once honored owner of which deserted it at the time of the general
exodus of the people; but as a token of his sympathy with the cause of
the insurgents, left the “Stars and Bars” flying from the roof. These,
however, were taken down soon after by the stalwart standard-bearer
of the Fifth New York Regiment, who put in their place the “Stars and
Stripes,” an emblem far more fit to float over the home of one who had
held the highest office in the gift of the people.
The day previous to the burning of Hampton (Aug. 6), a party of
the Battalion, consisting of Lieutenant Oliver, Sergeant Atwood, a
corporal, and sixteen men, were detailed to embark on board of a small
steamer, for the purpose of cruising on the “Eastern Shore,” so called,
to board all crafts of a suspicious character. The men took with them
one week’s rations, but were absent ten days, and for the last few
days, subsisted mainly on sea-crabs. They met with several exciting
incidents, and returned to camp in a half-famished condition. On the
18th of August, Captain Barnes was ordered by General Butler to proceed
to Newport News with the five companies of the Battalion under his
immediate command, but Captains Leach’s and Wilson’s companies were
retained at the Rip-Raps till November.
Two of the New York regiments stationed at Camp Butler (Newport News)
during the latter part of August, became involved in a sad difficulty,
which grew out of the discontent of their men. There had been some
misunderstanding, in the first place, about their term of service, and
for some cause they had, up to this time, received no pay, nor had the
local authorities at home, as was contended by them, paid to their
families the aid promised at the time of their enlistment. The feeling
of dissatisfaction which resulted from this state of things finally
culminated in open mutiny, and nearly five hundred of the enlisted
men of these regiments laid down their arms and refused to do duty.
By order of General Butler, they were placed under arrest, and sent,
under guard, to the Rip-Raps, where, for several days, they were kept
in close confinement. About this time, General Butler was succeeded in
the command of the department by General Wool, a veteran officer of
the regular army, and thereupon an order was issued, directing Captain
Leach to subsist these men upon nothing except bread and water as long
as they continued to harbor a spirit of mutiny. The sympathy of Leach’s
and Wilson’s men toward these prisoners was very strongly excited, and
the guard stationed over them systematically, but slyly, evaded the
orders from headquarters, and freely shared with them their rations of
meat and coffee. Finally, about the first of September, the prisoners
having become convinced of the folly of their conduct, asked permission
to return to duty; and that wish having been made known to General
Wool, they were ordered to Fortress Monroe, severely reprimanded by the
General, and, with the exception of three or four of their number,[20]
who were charged with being ringleaders in the revolt, were pardoned
of their grave offence, and ordered to their respective commands. It
is but just to these men to say, that they subsequently became most
excellent soldiers, and that their grievances were by no means fanciful.
The four months spent at the Rip-Raps constituted one of the “soft
times,” to use a soldier’s phrase, in the service of these two
companies, and one to which their members have often alluded with
evident pleasure. The men were here required to perform but little
duty, were liberally supplied with good food and clothing, and their
many unoccupied hours pleasantly spent in fishing, catching “soft
crabs,” a very delicious shell-fish, shooting porpoises, watching the
movements of our rapidly-accumulating navy, discussing gravely the
situation of the country, planning campaigns, and fighting imaginary
battles. If all the military and political lore eliminated by these
camp-fire debates, the queer pranks and comic sayings of the witty
ones, could be reduced to print, the result would be a large and by
no means uninteresting volume. These idle days gave birth, also, to
much letter-writing; some specimens of which, still in the author’s
possession, exhibit traces of wonderful imaginative powers, and show
that their composers were not in all respects very devout converts to
truth.