"Jumping from the frying-pan into the fire," the most of us thought when
we reached Alexandria, after leaving the Convalescent Camp, and found that
we were to be furnished with transportation to Norfolk on the old steamer
"Hero," which, as the "Argo," ran between Providence and Rocky Point long
"befo' de wah." We thought our accommodations could never be worse than
they were when we landed at the "Soldiers' Retreat" in Washington, but had
a rivalry existed between the two concerns, the "Hero" would have most
effectually distanced its competitor. It seemed, indeed, as if extra pains
had been taken by somebody to make our condition as uncomfortable and
unsatisfactory as possible. A cold rainstorm was prevailing when we went
on board the steamer. There were no sleeping accommodations whatever for
the men, and even the floor of the cabin which the officers occupied was
covered with sheets of boiler-iron, strewn helter-skelter here, there and
everywhere. The decks, where the men were huddled together like sheep,
were covered with mud and water several inches deep, our clothing was
damp, the air foul, and everything about as disagreeable as it could well
be. If we had been left in the starch over night we could not have been
more stiff the next morning than we were. Yet few complaints were heard,
the men generally preferring almost anything to longer remaining to guard
sick and disabled soldiers, especially where our room was better than our
company.
In course of time--that is, very slow time--Norfolk was reached, and when
transportation could be obtained we piled into freight cars and were soon
on our way through the famous Dismal Swamp to Suffolk. Here we found the
Fourth regiment, and the reception which the boys gave us was next to
getting back to Rhode Island itself. I will not attempt to speak in detail
of what was done at Suffolk by our regiment. It was the pleasantest place
which we visited while we were away from home, and the service being more
active than any which we had previously performed, it was more congenial
and satisfactory to the men. Our camp was delightfully located, and the
occasional sharp skirmishes which we had with the rebels, who were just
across the Nansemond river, together with numerous expeditions to the
Blackwater and thereabouts, served to keep the regiment in good condition
and remove all apprehensions of demoralization because of inactivity.
There were a large number of Union troops at Suffolk before our arrival.
The weather soon became very hot, and previous to their departure the
deaths were numerous. Daily the solemn processions wended their way to the
populous city of the dead. The funerals usually took place in the morning
just before sunrise, or at night just after sunset. I seem now to hear the
dirges played by the bands, and the volleys fired by the soldiers over the
graves of their dead comrades.
Upon my return home, I learned that among those in the rebel army while I
was at Suffolk was a young man who learned his trade with me in the
"Chronicle" office in Pawtucket, and who went to Alabama several years
before the "late unpleasantness." At the close of the war he returned to
the North and again became a loyal citizen.
On one of the expeditions to which I have referred, the Eleventh regiment
marched to the extreme front, three miles from Blackwater bridge, throwing
out Company F as pickets one mile in advance, who were soon engaged by the
enemy, and a brisk skirmish ensued which lasted until dark, when
hostilities ceased for that day. On the following afternoon, while three
of the companies of the regiment were picketing the front, they were
attacked in a spirited manner by six companies of a Mississippi regiment
deployed as skirmishers. Company B was sent forward as a support, but soon
deployed as skirmishers. The firing continued several hours, the enemy
being steadily driven back, leaving their dead on the field. Several
prisoners were captured. Obeying orders to fall back to Windsor, the
picket companies acted as rear guard. On this expedition the regiment was
absent from Suffolk eleven days, and was attached to the division under
command of General Corcoran. This was the nearest approach to a
hand-to-hand encounter with the enemy that the regiment had during its
term of service, and the two Pawtucket companies occupied the most exposed
and conspicuous positions.
It was at this time that Lieutenant Thomas Moies came near being shot by a
man who belonged to one of the companies of the Eleventh which were in the
rear of Company B. The affair to which I refer occurred just in the edge
of the woods, between daylight and dark. Lieutenant Moies, with an old
straw hat on his head, and in advance of his men, was cautiously crawling
along on his hands and knees in the underbrush up to the enemy's line.
Having satisfied himself that the enemy was falling back, he rose up, and
a member of Company C observing his hat mistook it for the head-gear of
one of the rebels, as their uniform always lacked uniformity, and
immediately fired. Fortunately for Lieutenant Moies, and to the great joy
of the entire regiment, the man who fired failed to obey the stereotyped
order to "fire low," and the misdirected bullet went over the head of our
esteemed lieutenant, and his valuable life was spared.
Since this paper was prepared, Lieutenant Moies has been "mustered out." I
knew him well as a neighbor and as a soldier. Together we slept on the
field with the same starry canopy for our covering, and together on the
weary march we shared the scanty contents of the same haversack and drank
from the same canteen. For him, "war's glorious art" had no allurements.
He loved his quiet home and the peaceful pursuits of life, and when he
gave himself to the service of his country it was because, being a true
patriot, he felt that its claims upon him were greater than those of
family and friends.
"Wife, children and neighbor,
May mourn at his knell;
He was lover and friend
Of his country as well."
His rank in the service, when measured by the army standard, was a
subordinate one, but had his shoulders been covered with eagles or stars,
he could not have been other than the same quiet, unassuming
citizen-soldier that he was, winning by his modest demeanor, sterling
integrity, and kindliness of heart, the esteem of his brother officers,
and the love and affection of his men. I know whereof I speak, when I say
that no officer who went from Rhode Island was more respected and beloved
by his command than was Lieutenant Thomas Moies, and by none is his death
more sincerely mourned than by those who served under him in Virginia in
1862-3. Such was the man--such was the soldier.