Hilton Head—Cape Fear River—Paroled Prisoners—Wilmington—Morehead
City—Newbern—Back to Morehead—Fatigue Duty and Oysters—An
Alarm—Battle of Petersburg—All aboard for Goldsborough—Sherman’s
Army—Surrender of Lee—Assassination of the President—Surrender of
Johnson—Morehead again—Transport—Rubber Coffee—Savannah.
At daylight, the steamer left the city arriving at Hilton Head
about noon, where, after transferring the brigade head-quarters and
a portion of the One Hundred and Fifty Sixth to another ship, she
anchored for the night. Leaving Hilton Head the morning of the 7th,
the mouth of Cape Fear River was reached about noon the next day. A
flag was hoisted for a pilot; but none responding, the captain of
the ship determined to follow the lead of another steamer, and go up
to Wilmington. The Ashland was about a hundred yards astern of the
other ship, when the latter suddenly grounded, and a collision seemed
certain. Fortunately, there was time to change the direction, and the
Ashland rubbed by, smashing a quarter-boat in the contact. Had the
distance between the two vessels been a few yards less, the effect
upon both might have been disastrous.
Coming to an anchor off Fort Caswell, the troops had an opportunity
to see the effects of heavy shot on an iron-clad,—one of the monitors
that had taken part in the assault on Fort Fisher lying near. Soon a
despatch-boat came alongside, with orders for the vessel to run up as
far as Smithville, and there await further instructions.
While anchored off Smithville, a boat came down the river loaded with
paroled prisoners, among them a number of the Thirty Eighth, who had
been captured at Cedar Creek, had been sent to Salisbury prison, and
were paroled upon the approach of Sherman’s cavalry. They all told
the same old story of hunger and exposure.
After some delay, a pilot was procured, and the steamer started
again for Wilmington, but owing to a thick fog, did not reach the
city until morning, when, as she was hauling into the wharf, a
harbor-master hailed the captain, wanting to know what brought
him there when he had orders to go to sea. Down went the anchor
again, and Lieut.-Col. Richardson went on shore to report, and see
if anybody knew anything about the third brigade of the second
division of the Nineteenth Army Corps. Getting instructions, the
lieutenant-colonel returned, and the ship again steamed down the
river. Passing by Forts Anderson and Caswell, by the obstructions
in the river, and by the wreck of Admiral Porter’s mock-monitor,
the ship again anchored, and waited for the fog to lift. In the
afternoon, a pilot came aboard, and, it being then clear, the steamer
stood out to sea, the earthworks of Fort Fisher looming up like hills
in the distance.
After a pleasant voyage along the coast of North Carolina, the
transport reached Morehead City on the afternoon of the 8th, and
landed the troops, who marched through the straggling village,
and stacked arms beside the railroad track. The place was full of
rumors in regard to fighting at Kinston, where Johnston was trying
to overpower Schofield before the arrival of Sherman; and all the
available troops were being sent to the front.
At eight o’clock, P. M., the regiment crowded into and on top of its
portion of an immense train of box-cars, and after a moonlight ride
through the turpentine forests of North Carolina, reached Newbern at
midnight, waking the town with cheers; for the brisk March air made
the blood run quick, and the men were in the best of spirits.
Disembarking at the depot, the regiment stacked arms, and soon
numerous camp-fires were blazing, and the indispensable coffee
boiling.
The rumors had grown less warlike as the train approached Newbern;
and upon arriving at that place, the troops were informed that they
were just too late,—that the fighting was all over, and that their
services were not needed. The men of the third brigade had been in
the field too long to be “spoiling for a fight,” and were not sorry
at being “counted out” of a battle just on the eve of peace.
The night was sufficiently frosty to harden the ground; and after
drinking their coffee, the men spread their blankets, and were soon
in repose. In the morning, the brigade marched a short distance
beyond the city, and quartered in buildings formerly occupied as a
hospital.
Newbern had been occupied for so long a time by the Union forces,
that its garrison had acquired habits different from those in vogue
in campaigning regiments; and the advent in their midst of such a
brigade as the third made quite a commotion. As soon as they had
stacked arms, the men, as usual, began to hunt for boards and other
articles to make themselves comfortable, in case of going into
camp in the vicinity. In an out-building, some A tents were found
packed away; and, as A tents were a luxury the Thirty Eighth had not
known for many days, they were at once appropriated. A commissary
sergeant of a certain Massachusetts regiment soon came after the
property, saying that they belonged to his company, and that he would
be responsible for them. “No, you won’t,” said the Company E boys,
whose portion of the prize was claimed. “You can account for them
as lost in action.” This way of accounting for property was beyond
the commissary’s experience, and he invoked the aid of the adjutant
to recover the tents. He supposed that he got them, but afterward
two canvas structures towered suspiciously above the dog-tents at
Morehead.
There being no call for the services of the regiment at Newbern,
it was sent back to Morehead City, arriving at that place in the
afternoon, and going into camp in a grave-yard, between the railroad
track and the river. The Nineteenth Corps was pretty well broken
up at this time,—the first division being still in the Valley with
Sheridan, the second division scattered through Georgia and Carolina,
and the third division in Louisiana.
Morehead City had been selected as the base of supplies for Sherman’s
army, and wharves were being built, storehouses erected, and
additional railroad tracks laid, while the harbor was crowded with
vessels of all descriptions, awaiting their turn to be unloaded. The
work of unloading the ships and loading the cars was done principally
by the men of the third brigade, assisted by colored soldiers and
contrabands; and there was no cessation of labor, night or day,—one
detail going on, when another came off. As a relief to the hard work,
oysters and clams were to be procured in abundance a few hundred
yards from the camp; and, as soon as the tide receded, the beach was
covered with oystermen.
Nothing occurred to break the monotony of the daily and nightly
fatigue duty till Sunday, March 26th, when one of the old Louisiana
style of “scares” took place. The assembly sounded, the regiment
formed in line, and the pickets were reinforced; but beyond the blaze
and smoke from a large fire in the pine woods, and the occasional
discharge of a piece of artillery, no signs of any enemy were seen,
and it soon appeared that the alarm had been occasioned by the report
of an “intelligent contraband,” that the enemy was marching on
Morehead in force,—said contraband having heard a battery practising
at a target.
April 7, the great news of the battle in front of Richmond and
Petersburg, resulting in the defeat of Lee, was read to the
troops, causing much rejoicing, although they did not commit such
extravagances as the speculators in the exchanges of New York and
Boston,—accounts of whose proceedings were read with amazement by the
soldiers in the field.
A change had been made in the military programme, and Morehead was no
longer to be the great base of supplies. At noon of the 8th, orders
were received to pack up, and three o’clock, P. M., found the Thirty
Eighth and the One Hundred and Fifty Sixth again on the road to
Newbern on platform cars. Newbern was not the destination, however;
and the train finally reached Goldsborough at three o’clock in the
morning. Great numbers of recruits and high-bounty men had passed
over the road lately; and, at the various wood and water stations,
the old soldiers gathered around the train with such queries as, “How
much bounty did you get?” “How long did you enlist for?” “Where’s
your cow?” etc. One fellow, trying to get a nearer look in the
moonlight, exclaimed, “Why, they are colored troops.” So they were
“colored,” compared with many who had passed over the road lately.
When it was known that the brigade had been “in the Valley with
Sheridan,” there was a change in the tone of the remarks.
The regiment bivouacked near the depot till morning, when the back
mails that had been sent to Savannah, arrived, and were assorted.
Sherman’s entire army was encamped about Goldsborough; and the five
corps broke camp, and began the march toward Raleigh the day after
the arrival of the Thirty Eighth. Among all that force of veteran
troops, none appeared to better advantage, or had a more military
bearing, than the famous Thirty Third Massachusetts, who had charged
under Joe Hooker at Lookout Mountain, and who had marched from
Atlanta to Savannah, and thence to Goldsborough.
Upon the departure of Gen. Schofield, Gen. Birge was left in command
of the post, and the Thirty Eighth selected to do duty in the
town,—Cos. A, B, D, and K as provost guards, and the remaining six
companies to guard the commissary stores.
Two days after the departure of Sherman’s troops, the news of Lee’s
surrender was received, and glad enough were the men of the Thirty
Eighth that the grand old Army of the Potomac had the honor of giving
the finishing stroke to the rebellion.
While the whole army was jubilant at the speedy prospect of peace,
and of the country being once more united, and when a feeling of pity
for the defeated rebels was becoming prevalent among the soldiers, a
wild rumor reached Goldsborough on the 17th that President Lincoln
had been assassinated. The news was so horrible that it was not
believed, and the next day it was reported that he had received only
a slight flesh wound.
Then came the tidings that Johnston had surrendered his entire force
to Sherman; and, without knowing the precise terms,—willing to put
all confidence in Sherman’s integrity,—the soldiers in North Carolina
gave way to an enthusiasm that none of the previous victories had
excited. All day they poured into the government printing-office
to learn if the report was official; and crowds gathered about the
orders posted on the buildings. But the next day, the report of the
assassination was confirmed; and then a revulsion of feeling took
place, and Eastern and Western men alike, in stern tones, hoped
that hostilities would be resumed. Few of the citizens of Raleigh
or Goldsborough dreamed of the slumbering fire in their midst, that
the least provocation would have fanned into a flame that would have
destroyed all before it; and it required all of Gen. Sherman’s tact
to keep his men quiet.
The paroled rebel soldiers, to their credit be it said, were
unanimous in denouncing the assassination; and were determined
to allow of no guerilla warfare in the State, now that the main
armies had surrendered. Perfect good feeling existed between the
late belligerents, although it was rather tantalizing to the Union
soldiers, who had been from home so long, to see the ladies crowd
around and caress the gray jackets.
The terms of Johnston’s surrender not proving acceptable at
Washington, a new arrangement was made; and the lieutenant-general
himself came on to ratify it. On his return, while passing through
Goldsborough, a wheel came off the engine, and the general was
obliged to leave the car, and wait for another locomotive. The news
soon spread that Gen. Grant was in town; and he was flanked at every
turn by the admiring soldiers, who didn’t ask him for a _speech_,
however.
The companies on provost were quartered in the Court House; and those
doing guard-duty had erected comfortable “shebangs,” with the hope of
occupying them until they left for home, when marching orders were
received, and colored troops arrived to relieve them. Breaking camp
during the evening of the 1st of May, the regiment bivouacked in the
grounds of the Court House till morning, and then took the cars for
Morehead City.
At all the little settlements on the road, women waved their
handkerchiefs, probably glad enough to see the stream of blue-coats
again turned northward. Passing through Newbern, the train reached
Morehead about sundown, and the regiment bivouacked in the old
camp-ground, among the graves, where it remained until the 4th, when
it embarked on the transport Thetis, in company with the One Hundred
and Twentieth New York and the _division horses_!
The men thought they had already tasted every flavor capable of
being produced from coffee; but a new experience awaited them on
this transport. The drink was made by putting the ground coffee in
an empty pork-barrel, and letting on steam through a rubber hose;
and the result was a beverage in which the taste of the barrel, the
rubber hose, the cask-water, and the coffee, struggled for the
mastery. One ration was sufficient for some companies, although the
New York boys drank a quart of it twice or three times a day.
On the morning of the 6th, after a search of several hours for Hilton
Head, the officers of the steamer ascertained their whereabouts;
and, at noon, the ship arrived off the Savannah River, when a pilot
was procured, and the voyage continued to Savannah. The troops
remained on board until Sunday morning; when they disembarked, and
took possession of the camps just vacated by a portion of the first
brigade, which had gone to Augusta.