THE ARMY TRANSFERRED TO THE PENINSULA.
Embarking for the Peninsula--Mount Vernon--On the
Potomac--Hampton--In camp--Orders to march--A night visit to
Fortress Monroe--The advance--A sifting--A Quaker battery--At
Newport News--Compliments of the Teaser.
On Sunday morning, March 23d, we marched to Alexandria. The whole of our
division, and of the other divisions of Keyes' corps, were there,
besides part of Heintzelman's corps and other troops. In the course of
the afternoon, this great body of men was embarked upon the transports.
The vessels having received their lading, swung out upon the river and
laid at anchor during the night. Early in the morning the whole fleet
was under way, steaming down the river. We passed Mount Vernon--the
bells of the fleet tolling. The tomb lies in the midst of a clump of
firs just south and a little below the house; the mansion and the
grounds are nearly as they were left by Washington, and the whole looks
down upon the river, calling upon the passer-by for a thought upon the
great man whose dust lies beneath the fir trees. After passing Mount
Vernon, nothing of special interest was seen except the broad expanse of
waters of this magnificent stream. A few large mansions, a few inferior
houses, and now and then a little hamlet, appeared on the banks; and at
Aquia creek could be seen the insignificant earthworks that had covered
the few field pieces which for so many months had kept up an efficient
blockade of the Potomac.
How different was all this from our Hudson! The country bordering on the
river is beautiful; nature has done everything for it, but a cursed
institution has blighted it. There is not a country in the world where
nature has been more lavish with its blessings, and yet it is forsaken,
worn out, almost a wilderness. The magnificent rivers and unsurpassed
harbors of Virginia, its natural fertility and the mildness of its
climate, present natural advantages scarcely equaled by any country. As
we stood upon the deck of the steamer, watching and admiring the
ever-varying beauties of the noble stream, some one repeated these lines
from Barlow's _Columbiad_:
"Thy capes, Virginia, towering from the tide,
Raise their blue banks, and slope thy barriers wide,
To future sails unfold a fluvian way,
And guard secure thy multifluvian bay,
That drains uncounted realms and here unites
The liquid mass from Alleganian hights.
York leads his way embanked in flowery pride,
And noble James falls winding by his side;
Back to the hills, through many a silent vale,
Wild Rappahannock seems to lure the sail;
Patapsco's bosom courts the hand of toil;
Dull Susquehanna laves a length of soil;
But mightier far, in sea-like azure spread,
Potowmac sweeps his earth disparting bed."
At night we were on the broad Chesapeake. A stiff breeze set our fleet
rocking, but we slept quietly, leaving the waves to take care of
themselves and the pilots to take care of the boats. Reveille awoke us
in the morning to discover on the one side of us the world-renowned
Fortress Monroe and on the other the equally famous Monitor. At our bow
lay the village of Hampton--or rather the chimneys and trees of what had
been Hampton. Orders came for us to disembark here, and we were soon
among the debris of the town. A sadder commentary on war could hardly be
found than the ruins of this beautiful village. A forest of shade trees
and chimneys marked the place where a few months before had stood one of
the most ancient villages in America. Hyacinths and daffodils, peach
trees and roses, were in bloom in the deserted and fenceless gardens;
and the dark green leaves of the japonica and laurel covered many a heap
of unsightly rubbish.
The walls of the old church, the most ancient in the State, stood like
silent witnesses against the reckless spirit of destruction of the
rebels. Although not large, the church had evidently been a fine old
structure, having the form of a Greek cross. About it were the graves of
the forefathers of the village, reposing under the shadow of those old
trees. Many of the tablets were ancient, dating back as far as 1706.
[Illustration: THE OLD CHURCH AT HAMPTON.]
The whole army was pouring out upon this shore, and at Fortress Monroe.
Dense masses of infantry, long trains of artillery and thousands of
cavalry, with unnumbered army wagons and mules, were mingled in grand
confusion along the shore; the neighing of horses, the braying of mules,
the rattle of wagons and artillery, and the sound of many voices,
mingled in one grand inharmonious concert.
Our division marched along a pleasant route to a field about midway
between Fortress Monroe and Newport News. We rested until March 26th,
when an order came at midnight for the army to march very early in the
morning. We were short of some medical stores and quartermasters'
supplies, and officers at once mounted their horses to ride through the
thick darkness to Fortress Monroe, to procure the needed articles. Along
the road men were already cooking their breakfasts, and artillery was
hurrying towards Newport News. At short intervals along the road,
sentinels were posted; and as the sounds of the horses' hoofs were
heard, the sharp command rung out through the darkness, "Halt! who comes
there?" and the galloping horses would suddenly halt at long distance
from the sentry.
"Friends with the countersign."
"Dismount and advance one; and give the countersign."
One of the parties, leaving his horse with the other, would advance and
give the required word, and on we rode again until suddenly halted by a
similar warning. As we approached the fortress, the sentinels were more
frequent, until, as we came within half a mile of our destination, the
guards were posted so frequently that we had hardly passed one, before
the sharp command to "Halt!" was heard again. We crossed the drawbridge,
and at length found ourselves in the little village in rear of the fort.
Passing here many sentinels who examined us very carefully, we reached
the door of the citadel. Here we were halted by a sentinel, and each
examined for the countersign. The sentinel called the corporal of the
guard; who after satisfying himself that we were Union officers shouted
to the sergeant. The great iron door ground upon its massive hinges as
it swung open just far enough to permit the sergeant to squeeze through,
and again it was closed, and the heavy bolts rung as they flew back to
their places. The sergeant, after asking a few questions, went back into
the fort, and soon returned with the officer of the guard, who, after
receiving the countersign, questioned us closely as to our business, and
who we were. Satisfied, at length he ordered a soldier to take our
horses, the heavy door slowly opened, and we were admitted within the
walls. Such were the precautions in admitting strangers to the
stronghold.
At six o'clock the division was in line and on the road. The morning was
indescribably beautiful. The vapors that rose from the broad expanse of
waters were tinged with a thousand gorgeous hues as they rolled away,
dispersed by the morning sun; and the tall yellow pines were crowned
with rich golden coronals of light. The road was perfectly level and
dry, and the country delightful. Long rows of locusts and pines lined
the sides of the road, and the rich groves of oak just sending forth
their foliage, were beautifully interspersed with the holly, with its
bright red berries and rich evergreen leaves. Peach orchards in full
bloom added to the beauty of the scene, and when at times we could see
the lines of troops, two and three miles in extent, their muskets
glittering in the bright sunlight, the enthusiasm of the men was
unbounded.
All the bridges over the route had been destroyed by the enemy, but
pioneers advanced at the head of the column, and as the bridges were all
small they were quickly repaired. A march of a few miles brought us in
sight of the James river; a noble stream, at least five miles wide at
this point. Not far from the shore appeared the masts of the U. S.
frigate Cumberland, sunk in the memorable fight with the Merrimac. As
our march led us along the banks, the views were charming. On one hand
was the noble river, and on the other the orchards and groves. Deserted
houses, and gardens blooming with hyacinths and other blossoms of early
spring, were passed. On the opposite side of the river lay a rebel
gunboat, watching our movements.
Our division, Smith's, had taken the lead on the James river road, while
Porter's division had marched upon Great Bethel. After a march of
fifteen miles, our division was drawn up in line of battle near Warwick.
Porter's division had already reached Great Bethel, on our right, and we
could see huge columns of smoke rising in that direction, and hear the
roar of artillery. An aide dashed up and informed General Davidson that
the enemy were in line of battle ready to receive us. Soon the order
came to advance; the line swept onward through the woods and over a
cleared field, but found no foe. A few cavalry pickets only were seen,
and a shell from one of our Parrott guns set them flying towards
Yorktown. We passed through the confederate encampments where their
fires were still blazing, but soon turned round and bivouacked on ground
last night occupied by rebels.
In this advance or reconnoissance of the whole army, the qualities of
the individual soldiers composing it were brought out in bold relief.
The effect on our own division was marked. During the months we had been
in winter quarters, many officers and men had established marvelous
reputations for bravery and hardihood, merely by constantly heralding
their own heroism. But from this time these doughty heroes went back.
Officers suddenly found cause for resigning; and enlisted men managed to
get sent to the rear, and never showed their faces at the front again.
On the contrary, some who were really invalids insisted on dragging
themselves along with the column, fearful that an engagement might take
place in which they would not participate. A sifting process was thus
commenced throughout the whole division, and to its honor the poltroons
were very soon sifted out, and from that time forth, Smith's division
never afforded a comfortable resting place for men of doubtful courage.
"They went out from us, because they were not of us."
Next morning we retired over the road upon which we had advanced, and
encamped near Newport News. As we passed this place on our outward
march, we saw at a distance what appeared to be a heavy gun, but as we
approached it proved to be a large cart, on which was mounted a great
wooden mortar, which had, perhaps, been used by negroes for cracking
corn. When we returned a hog's head was fixed in the mouth of the
mortar. "There," remarked an officer, "is the first Quaker we have seen
on the Peninsula." "You must sketch it," said the colonel of the
Seventy-seventh, and the officer obeyed.
[Illustration: THE QUAKER AT NEWPORT NEWS.]
The division encamped upon a low plain covered with sedges and reeds, a
good enough encampment while the dry weather lasted, but when the rain
came in floods two nights after we pitched our tents here, the whole
division was inundated, and we moved to higher and better ground.
The masts of the Cumberland greeted our eyes whenever we turned toward
the river, and the rebel gunboats made short excursions toward our side
of the stream. One day large numbers of men, mostly from the Vermont
brigade, were on the shoals of the river bathing and gathering oysters.
The gunboat Teazer discovering them, steamed down toward them, and threw
some heavy shells, shrieking and cracking among them, causing great
consternation among the bathers, and some confusion and much amusement
on shore.