==~-= ~ —=~~t ~ i~RP~3!L  -   / -- CLU-LdY- IYi~.~~-crlC J                   iY   ~ 1  P      ljT=\~~~~    c
~~r~;~~i ~ ~ i~iliffii~~~fl Ilp~~ IRRPr I"U:S ~ jifB ~ ~       fBfjglm         ~;~':~i               sJ/~~h
-. ji~




L IF T E
WITH THE
FORTY-NINTH MASSACHUSETTS
VOLUNTEERS.
BY
BY
HENRY T. JOHNS,
LATE QUARTEIR-MASTER'S CLERK FORTY-NINTIT MASS. VOLS.
PITTSFIELD, MASS.:
PUBLISHED  FOR THE AUTHOR.
1864.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S64,
BR HENRY T. JOHNS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
District of Massachusetts.
C. A. AIORD. STFREOTYPII' AND PRI'INTER.




TO
THE MEMBERS
OF THE
d&rt~g-gi9t4'assattuftatts vaoutfro,
THIS VOLUME
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED,
BY THEIR COMRADE,
HENRY T. JOHNS.








PREFACE.
THE  "Forty-ninth  Regiment Massachusetts
Volunteers" sprang from Berkshire. This, their
record, is written for Berkshire readers.  If it
shall, in after years, enable my comrades to recall
the events and some of the emotions of our soldier-life; if it shall tend to unite us in sympathy; if it shall present to our friends a fuller
view of our deeds and experiences, and bring
out more vividly the merits of our "fallen brave,"
I shall be satisfied.
TW~riting it has been to me a "labor of love."
I have written fully and earnestly of the principles
underlying this struggle; otherwise, I have confined my pen to our regimental life as it came
within my observation and experience. It would
be sad to believe those principles were no part
of that life.
My chief regret is, that fuller data did not
enable me to do justice to all our dead.
The engraving of Colonel Bartlett, one of the
best evidences of the skill of the leading engraver
of New York, A. W. Ritchie, needs this remark:
On applying for a photograph, from  which to
obtain an engraving, the Colonel sent me several,
taken in different styles, by different artists, at
different times. I selected the one that was used
because I deemed it the best one, and because it




6                 PREFACE.
was suggestive of the wound received at Port
Hudson, a memorable part of the most memorable
day in our history.
The wood-cuts are the workmanship of S. J.
Pinkney, New York. Even the uneducated eye
will at once discern their artistic excellence. That
the likenesses are not, in every case, equal to the
engraving thereof, results from two causes: defectiveness of some of the pictures furnished, and
the impossibility;of securing perfect likenesses,
on so small a scale, from wood-cuts.
I have written this " Life" in the form of "letters," thus making it less didactic and stiff than
had I observed the historic style. Necessarily
the "first person" is much used, perchance so
much as to render liable the charge of egotism.
In describing our battles, I have dwelt at length
on my own actions and feelings, believing the
personalness thereof would convey to my readers
a better idea of such scenes than merely general
descriptions. What is a battle, but the aggregate
of individual deeds and emotions? If pride, in
being allowed to share in our honorable career,
occasionally crops out, I can only say in extenuation, "out of the abundance of the heart the
mouth speaketh."
Hoping this hurriedly-prepared volume will
keep fresh the memories that gather round the
"Forty-ninth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers," and do something, however little, to inculcate those principles of which our military life
was but an outgrowth, I send it forth to fulfil its
mission.
HIENRY T. JOHNS.
PrIrFILD, MASs., 3May 1st, 1864.




LETTERS.
LETTER I.
HINSDALE, MASS., Augmut 10, 1862.
MY DEAR L.:
Like many others, I am almost' decided to enlist. A
large class, about the time of the bombardment of Sumter, forgetting their physical weakness, enlisted. In those
grand days (and despite all our mismanagement and repulses, the days have been growing grander ever since),
when God seemed to be saying to our internal foe, " Thy
days are numbered, and thy kingdom is taken from thee,"
the weak felt strong, so that "one" almost imagined he
"could chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to
flight." Alas! they fill our hospitals, or lie in lonely
graves on the Peninsula. -When victories, "like angel
visits, few and far between," illumined the horizon, I
have had no special promptings to'join the army; but
there has never been a signal defeat, that I have not felt
the old half yearning, half conviction, that so nearly led
me to enlist in the spring of 1861.
As we recede from the seven days' fight before Richmond, we get a clearer view thereof, and are compelled
to call it a fearful reverse. True, there were splendid exhibitions of Northern valor, and that is all we have gained.
Had we so entirely forgotten our past, did we think we
had so degenerated, that such battles, with their slain,
were necessary to convince us and the world that valor
was an heirloom of freemen? Wisely has the President




8          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
called for three hundred thousand more men, and now
his call for three hundred thousand more, looks so much
like being in earnest, that it calls out the hopeful earnestness of the nation. The country needs the men, and I,
for one, feel that no longer can I say " Go!" but "' Come!"
But a serious thought arises: " Have I a right to talke
human life?" To be slain seems not half so fearful as to
slay. Grant that war can be right and the matter is settled, for never was war holy if this war be not holy.
Fully have I considered the matter, and I am grounded
in the conviction that, under certain circumstances, war
is not only not wrong, but an imperative duty we owe to
God and man.
God commanded the Jews to go up to battle against
the heathen nations that inhabited Canaan. That forever
settles the fact that war is not inherently wrong, for
though a holy God may allow sin, he never commands it
to be done. To say that that was under the old dispensation, does not affect me; for, no matter what the circumstances, God would never command or encourage that
which is essentially wrong, that which is in opposition
to His own nature. True, a thing not wrong in itself,
may become wrong to us, if divinely prohibited. Though
the genius of Religion is opposed to all violence, and will
ultimately subdue the spirit of war, yet neither is there
in the Old nor New Testament any direct or clearly implied prohibition of War. When John the Baptist was
asked by some Roman soldiers what they should do to
inherit the kingdom of heaven, he did not say, " leave the
army," but among other directions, "be content with
your wages," wages received as soldiers. He knew full
well that some of them were at times sent on unhallowed
enterprises, but he doubtless considered the army, as the
armed police of the empire, often unjustly employed, but
a necessary part of that machinery which protects the
good and weak from the assaults of the evil and strong.
The Saviour and His disciples fellowshiped with soldiers,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            9
and acknowledged them as Christians. True, war ushers
mnany souls into eternity unprepared. God does this often
in individual and collective cases, and we do not impugn
HI-Iin.
Nothing can be more certain than that God is a God
of government. We believe that every thing material is
bound by laws. Is man alone left to his own impulses
and to anarchy? The most ancient history, that of the
Old Testament, teaches us that the Creator established
governments among men. His rulers had the right to
use the sword under certain circumstances. The theocracies of early days were followed by the institution of
civil government, which has been declared to be "ordained of God." Now, the sword is necessary to uphold
government. Sad it is, but it is true. Man is dealt with
as he is, not as we hope he qwill be. A man steals; an
officer tries to arrest him; he resists that officer, who
uses violence, even unto the death of the offender. Now,
that is not a death punishment for theft, but for an attempt to undermine government itself. Let him succeed,
let a thousand others succeed unresisted, and where is the
safety of property? That safety once gone, and our very
support depends on our brute strength; so might becomes
triumphant, and for the weak there is nothing but injury
and death. A man commits an assault, an ordinary assault on another. Let him alone, let all such alone, and
where is order? where is society? where is government? All swallowed up in anarchy. Human life is valuable, but national life is yet more valuable. Human life
may be sacrificed, perchance unjustly, with comparatively little injury to society; but the destruction of a nation's life brings untold woe. If government, that divinely ordained institution, cannot be maintained without
sacrificing human life, then the axe. must descend. Now
right here, in the right to take the life of those who would
overthrow society, lies the war-power.
If individual life is worthy of defence, national life, on
1*




10          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
which so much of the happiness of living depends, is
more worthy. Thus it seems to me, that revelation and'
reason alike teach the dotty of war.. Neither is this incompatible with the idea of peace. Peace is not nonresistance to wrong, but rather the quiet enjoyment of
our rights. Wherever a right is assailed, there is war,
though never a gun or a soldier is called into service.
That nation which tamely bears wrongs that may be righted, does not half as much for the cause of peace, as they
who rise against oppression with the old war cry, " Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God."
These are some of the reflections leading me to believe
I could engage in war with an untroubled conscience. I
give you results, not processes of reasonings. If ever I
go into battle, I may forget those processes; but while I
hold fast to the conclusion to which they have led me, my
eye will not pity, nor my arm spare an armed rebel.
Where men get in the way of human progress, I would
remove them by gentle means; if they resist and are obdurate, let the triumphal car go on, for the rejoicings of
the saved will drown the groans of the lost. The rebels
have got right in the path of God and freedom. They
refuse to move; let sword and cannon do their mission.
Openly or blindly, every Union soldier is doing God's
work. Let our foes succeed, and not only will we be
draped in mourning, but the best part of humanity will
be sharers of our sorrow and despair. The leaven of
Protestantism, of liberty, and of education, will permeate
the world if we succeed. Anti-slavery men may fight with
an intense enthusiasm, if they believe that the end of this
war will find our flag, stripes all hidden by stars, waving
over never a master or a slave; but he who takes a fuller
view of the dealings of Providence with this nation, and has
faith in the Divine mission imposed on it, will scarcely
need the inspiration of that belief (and it is great) to continue the contest till victory or death. While African
slavery is sure to go under the waves of this aroused




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            11
ocean, future historians will scarcely recognize it as one
of the blessed fruits of this war, so rich and full shall be
the clusters of blessings that our success shall give to the
world. That alone is worth a nation's blood and treasure; but comprehensive must be the memory that can recall the "first fruits," when enjoying the full harvest.
The world will meet to enjoy the "harvest home" purchased by the blood and treasure of hundreds of thousands of Americans.




12          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER II.
HINSDALE, MASS., August 29, 1862.
MY DEAR L.:
This evening I enlisted, thus deciding the contest of
months. My health and strength may prove sufficient
for the duties I have just taken on me. I enlisted under
the call of August 4th, for volunteers for nine months,
deeming that wiser than to join a three years' regiment.
The whole county is absorbed in the raising of troops.
The draft was postponed till August 15th, and then to
September 3d. If the war continues, we must resort to
the drafting system. It is the fairest and surest way of
raising men. Conscription is the everlasting root of a
nation. And, when party feeling is comparatively inactive, a draft could be easily enforced; but, if we wait till
that feeling puts on some of its old activity (and even
now there are signs thereof), draft and anti-draft will become political tests. Then the strength of our government may be put to its severest test. The people quietly
allow their property to be taken for the use of the nation;
if they will also submit to the forced seizure of their persons for the same end, none will dare say that there is not
strength in a republican form of government.
It is a pity that the last call of the President was not
for three years' men. Out of New England, they are
raising but few nine months' regiments. I feel quite confident that it will not work well. Nine months is too
small a period to imbue men with a soldierly pride. Let
a few months pass, and they will begin to say, " in four
or six months our time will be out;" and when that is the
case, the longing for home will weaken their attachment to the army. The sick, soon expecting to be dis



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.             13
charged, will not brace up against disease, as if they
knew that they had to serve for nearly three years more.
These regiments, unless placed in the Army of the Potomac, will scarcely see any dangerous service till near the
expiration of their nine months; and it is but human nature to take greater care of ourselves when we are about
closing up a perilous business, than when the peril fills up
years of our future.
To stimulate volunteering, we have adopted the system
of paying bounties to recruits on being mustered into the
United States service. A town votes so much bounty to
each recruit, expecting that the State will assume the debt
as in the case of aid paid to families of soldiers. Those
bounties range from $50 to $150, often increased largely
by the selfishness or patriotism of private individuals. I
suppose no intelligent man really admires this bounty system, yet it has been started, and twe must adopt it, or lo!
the draft! It brings out a good deal of selfishness. Men
come from towns where they offer smallrbounties, and enlist where they can secure larger ones. Some carefully
conceal physical defects till they are mustered in and paid,
and then are discharged for disability, while others desert
as soon as they pocket their. bounties. Few would object
seeing them receive the full penalty of the law-death!
Strange as it may sound to you, after thEe above, yet it is
true, a better class of men are enlisting now than ever before. Go through the county, see the comfortable homes
they are leaving, learn their position and reputation in
community, and you must stultify your common sense before believing that greed of money influences them. Some
of the best of the county have enlisted. Better remain
not behind. If any selfishness alloyed their patriotism,
it was dread of the draft, and to a proud-spirited man,
the idea of being a conscript in a nation of volunteers, is
repugnant to every feeling of self-respect. I believe we
will raise the needed number. Surely it is a needed number, when President Lincoln formally refuses to receive




14           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
negroes as soldiers, and is laboring to colonize them.
Strange what mad crotchets will sometimes invade the
brain of sagacious men. Colonize four millions! Remove
four millions of laborers from a country that needs
nothing as much as working men! Refuse half a million
of soldiers, and then make frantic appeals to.men to hurry
to the country's rescue! Old Abe will see his mistake
ere long. I believe he sees it now, but fears that public
opinion is not ready for the correction of the error.
Statesmen should lead, if necessary, drag public opinion
up to the right. Still the negro can bide his time. He
has begged for the privilege of fighting; the time may
come when, with large bounties in our hands, we may beg
him to join our ranks. Too numerous ever to be removed —God will give them the opportunity to secure
our respect and their rights. With no nationalty to fall
back on, with their own swords they must earn a share in
that of ours. The innocent cause of this great rebellion,
they will yet become potential in crushing alike it and its
prolific parent-their curse, slavery.








Co. A.
//~~~~~~~~~~
\~~!~~~~~~~~~~
Capt. I. C. WELLER~i.. A. FRANCIs.G.W. RFEDo




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           15
LETTER III.
HINSDALE, MASS., September 8, 1862.
My DEAR L.:
Though you are absent from old Berkshire, the home
of your youth, and with the people of which you are so
well acquainted, I know your new home has not dethroned the old from your affections; so I shall gratify you by
writing at length concerning Berkshire men and events,
only promising that all I communicate will savor of war;
for, in common with us all, the war absorbs nearly all my
thoughts, feelings, and actions.
War meetings for the raising of troops are more numerous than ever. The best of it is they are successes.
We have filled up our quota of three years' men. Week
before last was a memorable one for Pittsfield. On'
Thursday thereof a monster meeting was held in the Park,
and there, where our Revolutionary fathers gathered in
the morning of this struggle, many of their sons volunteered to continue and close up the old contest between
aristocratic usurpation and popular rights. How history
repeats itself! how little there is new under the sun!
Change dates and names, and you can imagine Cavaliers
and Puritans to be the actors, instead of Yankees and
Southrons. We fight no new battle. It is only another
phase of the old contest, old as human governments. A
truce to this digressing, which, though one of the privileges of letter-writers, I will not further avail myself of
now. At the Park were gathered the wealth, the bone,and sinew of the land. Messrs. Bowerman, Colt, Emerson, and others, spake burning words to the people.
Many of our wealthy citizens came forward to do, by
their purses, what they could not do or would not do by




16          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTI
their right arms. They did not then fill up their quotas.
On the following Saturday at noon, nearly all places
of business were closed, and the work of volunteering
went on with some success. Saturday night found them
yet deficient. The draft was to commence the coming
Wednesday; our brothers, outnumbered on the Potomac,
were loudly calling for help, and it was decided to continue the effort on the morrow, the Sabbath day. In the
quiet of a New England Sabbath evening, they secured
the requisite number of men. A holy day was appropriated to a holy purpose. How foolish! how wicked! the
remark, that moral character has nothing to do with the
efficiency of the soldier. The solemn enthusiasm of that
hour, carried into the battle-field, would render any army
invincible.
What fatality is opposed to'our success? We ask with
our President, " Is it possible that God is on the side of
the rebels?" No! He wants to be on our side, and will
be openly when we are willing to make this a war of
ideas. Though superior to the enemy in every thing,
save knowledge of the country where the seat of war is
located, we find that, after eighteen months of'the most
prodigal expenditure of men and means, we have made
but little real progress. True, we have had some success in
the radical West, but the nation, the world, looks on the
Army of the Potomac as the representative army. It is
so. Say what we may, all valuable as are the services of
the Western commands, the progress of the war is wrapped up in the army, just scattered, if not beaten, near
Washington. By it we judge; by it we are judged.
The two contending armies of the respective Capitals,
must strike the decisive blow. I am aware that the improved and enlarged facilities of travel have rendered
obsolete the idea that London is England, that Paris is
France, that the Capital is the nation, yet none ever
dreamed of calling ther,m victors, whose seat of government was assailed or endangered by an enemy. Why




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            17
this comparative unsuccess? Simply because we have
not been possessed of any great inspiring idea. We have
the fixed determination never to surrender our national
unity, and "the Constitution and the Union" for a rallying cry, but we need something more. Liberty, which
is the life-blood of the Constitution, and the jewel enshrined in the Union, has been studiously kept out of
sight. Bayonets think in these days, and they feel, if
they cannot logically see the difference between appeals
to the body and to the spirit. Love of a mere written
instrument, or a civil organism, has but little influence in
making men
"Their Fatherland's befriender,
By life and blood surrender."
Yesterday, the Thirty-seventh left for Dixie. Under'
the old elm, Dr. Todd made a farewell prayer. Though
he was heard by few, it was a solemn scene. We knew
they were bound for the Potomac, and that the exigencies
of the times were such that they might be rushed into
battle before another Sabbath day.
There are few more solemn, subduing scenes than the
departure of a regiment for the seat of war. Many of the
men assume a levity that poorly hides their own sadness,
and as poorly comforts those who are to remain behind.
Mothers, wives, children, were there to bid, to look, the
last adieu. Many a mother then pressed her aching head
into silence, and heroically struggled to fasten in her boy's
heart the memory of a farewell smile. Kind, but vain
mockery! To many wives, the measured tread of that
thousand men, marching from home and life, seemed to
be over their own hearts. They felt they were nearing
a day when there would be
" A blush as of roses
Where rose never grew;"
and though they were not deficient in the spirit of self



18           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
sacrifice, nor heedless of the glory of the strife, yet the
farewell was with
"Ah me I This glory and this grief
Agrees not well together."
When the cars started, there was the usual cheering
given by the soldiers as evidence of their cheerfulness,
and taken up by those who had n6 very near friends leaving. Those who had emptied hearts and homes for their
country's sake, fearing it might be —forever-cheered
not, but gazed on the receding train till out of sight,
and then turned sorrowfully homeward, to bear alone the
suspense of months, while their loved ones should enter
into scenes whose novelty and excitement would lift up
their sadness. Not all the brave go to war. Saving the
physical privation, exposure, and suffering endured by
soldiers who are really loved, their lot is enviable in comparison to that of the lone women of our land.
" Heroic males the country bears,
But daughters give up more than sons.
Flags wave, drums beat, and unawares
You flash your souls out with the guns,
And take your heaven at once.
But we, we empty heart and home
Of life's life-love IWe bear to think
You're gone, to feel you may not come,
To hear the door-latch stir and clink,
Yet no more you,-nor sink."








Co. B.
I: 
//
/
Capt. C. R. GARLICK.
C. W. KNIFFLN.                               R. R. NOBLE.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           19
LETTER IV.
CAMP BRIGGS, MASS., September 15, 1862.
My DEAR L.:
The first week of camp-life is over. Of course, you
want to know all about it. The encampment is styled as
above in honor of Brigadier-General Henry S. Briggs, son
of the late ex-Governor, G. N. Briggs. Our homes are
tents, called A  or wedge-tent{.  They slope from the
ground to the ridge-pole, being five and a half feet high, six
feet wide, and seven feet deep. Six form a family circle.
Did you ever try sleeping with five full-grown men, with
most of your clothes on, in a bed six feet wide? If so,
you know that involves lying " spoon fashion," and when
one turns, all must tdrn, else some vigorous remarks will
convince you that you are encroaching, not on the territory, but on the body of your neighbor. The weather
must be very bad indeed, if we do not hail as a Godsend
the detailing of one or more of our family to "stand
guard."' That has some draw-backs, for, when his two
hours of guard-duty are over, and just when we are beginning to enjoy the luxury of expansion, he returns, and
a wet bed-fellow is sometimes the result: and if he oversleeps himself so as not to hear the guard-call, we have a
visit from the corporal of the guard, who, after divers
hallooings and shakings, succeeds in waking us all up,
the right man last.
Sixteen of these tents are used by the enlisted men of
each company, being eight on each side of a street, some
twenty feet wide. The streets are designated " A," "B,"
" C," after the names of the company occupying them.
The first street to the right is occupied by Co. A, it hav



20          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
ing comne into camp first, and named accordingly. The
next by Co. B, and so on. We have placed evergreen
bushes around our tents, giving quite a home-like, a sylvan look to the encampment. Our streets are kept scrupulously clean. They run nearly east and west. To the
rear is a line of cook-houses, to be used when we are furnished with rations raw, instead of rations cooked as we
now are. A trench five or six feet long, two wide, and one
deep, with a crane made of green saplings, serves for the
cook-stove of each company. Beyond these are sinks for
depositing slops, rarely used, for our shrewd farmers, having no Jewish aversion to pork, are on hand glad to purchase all the refuse of the cook-houses.  Often, milk
graces the tables, the cooks having learned that alchemy
that transmutes slops into good, rich milk. Yet further
east are places, sometimes within and sometimes without
the lines of sentinels, reserved for meditation.
To the west of the company streets, and at right angles
with them, is the grand promenade of the camp. On the
western side of. this avenue are located the tents of the
Line Officers, captains and lieutenants, opposite severally
to their respective company's streets. Each captain is entitled to a tent, as also are two lieutenants. Unless unsociable, they are generally placed so that one will be in the
rear of the other, the front one being used for office, sittingroom, and parlor; the other for bed-room. Do not imagine that the officers are doomed to the penalty of living
in wedge-tents. They have wall tents, which are nearly
seven feet square, running up at the sides about five
feet, and thence to a ridge-pole some ten feet from the
floor. So, you see, they can live, having room for com.
fortable beds or berths, chairs and tables. Over these
tents are spread flies, increasing the protection from the
rays of the sun, and from rain. To the rear of them a
little to the north, is to be the sanctum sanctorumn; the
tents of the Field and Staff Officers, or" IIead-quarters,"
before which a succession of unlucky wights must sepa



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          21
rately stand on guard, that there be no profanation of
military dignity.
Our regiment is to be known as the Forty-ninth\ Massachusetts Volunteer Militia.  We hope to make the
"Forty-ninth" a historic name worthy of the glorious
old commonwealth.
We have now three companies, A, B1, and C, in camp.
With regard to lettering the companies, first come, first
served. If lettering went in accordance with the dates
of commission, " B," would be' C," and " C " would be
" B."  Co. A is called the " Allen Guards," for many of 
them once belonged to that organization. It was named
after the Hon. Thomas Allen of this place, who has been
a very liberal sponsor. From the Allen Guards have al;
ready issued several companies in different regiments,
dating from the first war-cry to this last call. I know
not how many privates have gone from it, but it has furnished the service upward of twenty commissioned officers. I think Co. A will preserve unimpaired the honor
of the name. They encamped in Burbank Hall from the
3d to the 7th inst. When the Thirty-seventh had left,
they marched into Camp Briggs, a pleasant contrast to
the gloomy hall. They number all told one hundred
men. Though not large, they are rugged and healthy,
and will stand the wear and tear of army life better than
the six feet giants who never bend till they break. Being
so nearly the same size and partially uniformed, and having had some little drilling, they are our veterans. Some
of our best young men, who know nothing of hardship
and privation, are. with them. Their average age is twenty-two years, eight months, and eleven days. Their aver.
age height is five feet, seven and one-tenth inches.
They are well officered. Israel C. Weller, of the firm
of Isham & Weller, flour dealers, is captain.  He. will
make a good one; He served as sergeant with the three
months' men under Captain (now General) Briggs, and at
the time of his election was a lieutenant in the Allen




22          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Guards. He is well posted in military matters, and having a fondness therefor will make a superior officer. To
his own men, he will always be, in thought, if not in words,
Is. Weller.  I shall watch Capt. Weller's course with
some curiosity. He has before him a much harder task
than if his men were all strangers to him. They like
him, and while he -is free with them, they obey him very
readily. I fancy he will continue the same cheery, lively
spirit, but I mistake the man if he will ever allow familiarity to degenerate into insolence or disobedience. He
is twenty-two years of age.
George W. Clark, a finisher in Pittsfield Woollen Mills,
is the first lieutenant. He is a stranger to me, but he
looks the officer, and is very highly spoken of. He is
twenty-eight years of age.
Frederick A. Francis, of Sternsville, aged twenty-sevei,
is the second lieutenant. You know him, and will readily believe that he will make a popular and efficient officer. So gentlemanly, with such a winning voice, men
will receive punishment at his hands more readily than
favors from some others. Neat and tasty in dress, with
pride of carriage, he makes an attractive appearance, and
I prophesy a good report of him when comes the time to
prove our soldierly qualities. By the by, the post of second lieutenant is just the easiest and pleasantest in the
regiment.  He has but little responsibility, and almost
nothing to do with administering discipline. He can discharge his whole duty and yet play the gentleman, winning the good will of those who would curse him had he
the sterner duties of a captain to fulfil.
Co. A is very fortunate in having for its Orderly,
George Reed, one of our three months' men. He was a
printer in the Berkshire Eagle office, and very highly respected.. The post of Orderly or first sergeant is almost
as responsible as that of captain, with none of its privileges or honors. He is the business man of the regiment.
If a detail is to be made for police, guard, or any other




Co. C.
G''
apt.. R. LENGENFELTER.
D. B. FOSTER.                                J. N. STRONG.
_ 








MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            23
duty, he selects the men, and on him fall the anathemas'
of the shirkers and of those who may be really, though innocently overtasked. If punishment is to be inflicted, he
is the agent of that punishment. If the captain is censured for the uncleanliness of the men or quarters, he
comes back on the orderly. Living with the soldiers, he
must yet keep up the dignity of the officer, so that his numerous commands will be obeyed without the interference
of his superibr. The neatness, discipline, general efficiency
of a company depends as much on the first sergeant as
on the commander. Give a company a good captain
and. orderly, and you may be sure they will be worthy
of the service. I send you a copy of the company roll.
As you run your eye over it, you will see there is excellent material in it, warranting me in saying that some of
the best young men of the town are there. They start
well, being all united; As four-fifths of the men are from
Pittsfield, she has all the officers and none feel aggrieved
thereat.
Co. B came into camp on the 7th and 8th instant.  It
numbers one hundred and two stalwart men, among
whom are the pride of many homes, and the respected
of manly communities. The morale of this company is
very high.- By reading over its roll, you will see the
names of those who never left their homes and prospects
save at the promptings of duty. Their average age'is
twenty-six years, three months and seven days, and height
five feet, eight and nine-tenth inches.
Charles R. Garlick, of Lanesboro, one of the firm of H.
G. Davis & Co., dealers in dry goods, is captain. I have
almost no acquaintance with him. He is very gentlemanly,
dresses well, and is considered a prompt, active business
man, of great value to his company. I think he will be
an excellent disciplinarian and a reliable officer. He owns
to twenty-six years of age.
Charles W. Kniffin, aged twenty-six years, merchant of
West Stockbridge, is first lieutenant. He is a man of




24          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
unusual personal popularity, and certainly very much of
the gentleman. In common with others, I am prepared
to prophesy a brilliant career for Lieut. Kniffin.
Robert R. Noble, aged twenty-two years, is second
lieutenant. He is a son of R. Noble, Esq., of Williamstown, and was for six months a sergeant in Second Massachusetts Volunteers, from  which regiment he was discharged on account of ill health.' He was the first volunteer from Williamstown.  He acted as drill-master to Co.
E, of the Thirty-seventh Massachusetts, receiving the
praise of Col. Edwards. He is a good type of Young
America, active, intelligent, self-confident. He loves military, and makes a fine drill-master, putting vim into the
exercises, thus making them attractive to the men. As
the other officers have had no military experience, Co. B
has shown excellent judgment in raising young Noble from
the position of a private to that of second lieutenant.
Orton W. Jennings, of Beckett, is the first sergeant.
His looks denote intelligence and promptness, indispensable requisites for the orderly of a company. The men
speak highly of him. I wish I was able to give you the
names of those households from which two or more have
gone forth to the war. Some have sent their all; husbands and sons, leaving none behind save the aged and
the women. Abraham Rosseter, of Richmond, has three
sons, his all, in this company. It is easy to write that
sentence, but it is a wonderfully suggestive one. It
speaks of an aged couple in their loneliness (perchance of
lonely wives) following their boys in prayer and thought
through all the temptations of the camp, and the dangers
of the field, stopping awhile as in fancy they hear amid
the groans of the dying, voices all too familiar to them.
Who can tell their need of leaning upon the Great Father
of all for strength to sustain them in their weary waiting
for them who may never return!
There were sad hearts in a darken'd home,
When the brave had left their bower;




MASSACHUSETFS VOLUNTEERS.            25
But the strength of prayer and sacrifice
Was with them in that hour.
We turn from Co. B, otherwise known as "Pomeroy
Guards," in compliment to Robert Pomeroy, Esq., of this
town, and introduce to your notice Co. i' C," called " Berkshire Guards," to which I have the honor to belong.
It consists of ninety-three men, some of whom are equal
in morality and intelligence to any in the regiment. Their
average age is twenty-six years, four months and twentysix days. Their average height five feet, nine and fiteseventh inches. For size, we will be apt to wear the
palm.
Charles T. Plunkett, son of Hion. T. F. Plhnkett, is
captain. He is a splendid specimen of the genus horno,
being six feet, six inches high. As he is but twenty-two
years of age, he may have reached his height (it is to: be'
hoped so) but not his full growth. He can hardly be
called spare or: stout, but every way a well-built man.
Give him two or three years of war life, and you may hunt
New-England over for a. better specimen of a soldier.
He was engaged in the manufacturing business. at South:
Glastenbury, Connecticut, and was. a member elect of the
Connecticut legislature.  Bright seemed the opening
world to him, but leaving all the comforts and luxuries
of wealth and of high social position, he has taken on
himself the duties and hardships of a soldier. He steps.
in his new position with ease, and, if not suddenly stricken
down by- rebel bullets, which his commanding stature
will invite, we believe he w'ill do honor to the family
name. He has a brother who went out with the 37th as
a lieutenant.
Daniel B. Foster, of Cheshire, is our first lieutenant.
He is thirty-four years of age, and has in him many of the
qualities that make an efficient and popular officer.
By a combination, not unusual at elections, Pittsfield
has not only the captaincy of our company, but also the
second lieutenancy in the person of William W. Wells
2




26         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
He is thirty-five years of age, and possessed of considerable ambition and energy.
John R. Camp holds the delicate and responsible position of first sergeant, which, we hope he will occupy to
his honor and our benefit. You may not be aware that
in these nine-months' regiments, the men elect the commissioned officers, who, in turn, appoint the non-commissioned officers. Thus, a duty of no ordinary importance
devolved on us. When we consider the power entrusted
to officers, how that power may be abused, that our happiness, almost our lives, are in their hands, it seems but
right that we should have the privilege of choosing our
own commanders. Yet I know not if it were not wiser
to have them appointed by the Governor. True, with
him, " kissing goes by favor;" but he could choose as
wisely as we could, seeing that we were called upon to
vote for officers before going into camp and becoming acquainted with the candidates. Could elections be deferred
till after an active campaign, we might vote more wisely.
If, under the present system, the men choose unwisely,
they will have none to blame but themselves. Poor satisfaction, to write " fool" against your own name.








Co. DJ.
J./ ~                                      XTI
" I                    "II
Capt. S. J. CHAFFER.
J. TUCKER.                                       T. SIOGINS.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTMEBS.           27
LETTER V.
CAOP BRInGS, MASS., September 22, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
On Monday last, the 15th inst., Co. D, raised mainly
in Barrington, came into camp. It is not too much to say
that a better company never joined any regiment. It has
a large number of farmers and farmer's boys, and also an
unusual number of intelligent business men. In every
respect, it is an honor to Old Barrington. It numbers
ninety-eight men, averaging in age twenty-five years, five
months and five days; and in height, five feet, seven and
one-fifth inches.
Its captain is Samuel B. Sumner, a son of Hon. Increase Sumner, of Barrington. He is a man of thirty-two
years of age, one of our rapidly rising young lawyers, a
graduate of Williams College, an ex-State Senator, and a
poet and orator of no mean pretensions. I believe he has
had considerable militia experience, and therefore is presumed to be' competent to fill the duties of the majorship of the regiment, for which position report has already nominated him. He is shrewd and politic, and
will make few blunders. All will like him.
Joseph Tucker, of Great Barrington; is first lieutenant.
He was originally named for captain, but when the company
roll was partially filled, Mr. Sumner enlisted, and Lieutenant Tucker assented to him as their captain, believing, as
all do, that the promotion of Captain Sumner would soon
make way for another commander of Co. D. Lieutenant
Tucker is a son of George J. Tucker, Esq., Register of
Deeds for this county, and also County Treasurer. He
comes from a good family (not considered a despicable
thing even in Democratic Massachusetts), and is counted
a fine fellow and an estimable man. He is a lawyer by
profession.




28          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
The second lieutenant is Samuel J. Chaffee, originally
from Connecticut, but recently connected with some of
the mills in Berkshire. Hle is active, intelligent, and very
popular. He is a mian of earnest convictions and great
independence; one, we may prophesy, who will do his
duty, regardless of fear or favor. The orderly sergeant is
James K. Parker, who, I believe, has been in the service
before. Co. ID is an able company, ably officered.:
Wednesday, September 17th, Co. E made its appearance. The very best of the young men of Southern Berkshire come with it. Among them  are students from
Harvard and Yale, besides ministers and embryo doctors and lawyers. A nation is rich indeed that has such
sons to call to her defence; richer still when those sons
promptly answer her call, that the principles that have
made her great and glorious may be maintained, and become tlie heritage of the world. The material of Co. E is
such that we can safely predict for it an honorable career.
They number one hundred and two men, of an average
age of twenty-six years, and height of five feet, eight and
one-quarter, inches.
They are commanded by Horace D. Train, a physician
of Shefield, He is forty years of age, pleasant, and evidently used to good society. He is considered a very
good physician of the Homeopathic school. If our surgeons
shall belong to the same school, we will have in him one
more than the standard number; if not, Dr., alias Cap.
tain Train, will have to practise on: the sly. Then, commend me to him- rather than to the tender mercies of the
heroic school.
Robert T. Sherman, of Egremont, is first lieutenant. He
is twenty-five years of age, an excellent machinist, anrd
an impulsive son of Green Erin; a splendid'fellow to lead
in a forlorn hope. He will make an efficient offic"r.
H. Dwight Sissons, mechanic of New Marlboro, octc
pies the:positidn of second lieutenant. He is twenty-five
years of age, unobtrusive, faithful, intelligent, and popu



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.             2-9
lar. He willw wearvwell,  You can count on him with but
little fear of disappointment. Their first sergeant (we
always call them orderlies), Moses H. Tuttle, is a young
man of twenty-two years, a graduate of Yale College, and
comes from an excellent family. The men like him, and
confide in him. Captain Train showed excellent judgment in selecting so worthy an orderly to have the supervision of as worthy men as ever enlisted under any banner. You remember after the battle of Marathon,; each
officer was requested to state which of the officers: was
most deserving of praise. Each man wrote himself down
as that worthy one, and Themistocles second. Ask the
members of each company which are the two best companies in the regiment, and nearly every man would: call his
own company ithe best, and E the next best.    By this,
we really unanimobsly place E at the head;of the list.
The future will show if they realize the. promise of the
present.
Co. F came into camp on Tuesday, September:16th.
They number ninety-eight:stalwart, respectable, steady
men. I judge them mainly by their appearanee:and reputation, for as yet I know but little concerning them.
They average in age twenty-five years and seven months;
in height, five feet seven and one-half inches.
Benjamin A. Morey, druggist, of Lee,, is captain. He
is a man of forty years of age, stern in looks, but really genial in life, a generous friend, a decided foe. He was a lieutenant in the Thirty-first Mass. Vols., and bears the name
of a strict disciplinarian. Of course, that  does not give
him a popular starti, but thelexperience of an active campaign will learn us howv to appreciate the value of discipline, though it may occasionally be irksome to us.
Edson T. Dresser, of Stockbridge, holds the position of
first lieutenant. A desire to aid in the quelling of this
unholy rebellion drew him away from his class at Williams' College. to enlist as a common soldier. He is worthily popular, and having the benefit of the experience of




80          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
his colleague, will make an efficient officer. He is twentytwo years of age.
With the second lieutenant, George H. Sweet, aged
twenty, farmer of Tyringham, I am not acquainted. He
is a gentlemanly looking young man, but rather too delicate for the duties that lie before him. Will often supplies the absence of muscle; it may with him.
John Doolittle, merchant of Monterey, is the orderly of
this company. He is twenty-six years of age, and will, I
think, creditably perform the peculiar duties of his position. No company starts more favorably than Co. F.
In a hundred little things; as well as in large things, will
they see the benefit of commencing their military service
under the command of one who has had some experience
in soldier life.
On Friday, the, nineteenth instant, tinety-nine fine, robust men, forming Co. G, were added to our rapidly increasing number.  Mainlyv drawn from manufacturing
communities, they may not have the steadiness of our
farmer boys; but what they lack in that.trait, they make
up in vivacity. Their average height is five feet eight
inches; their Overage age is twenty-three years, two
months and two days.
Their captain is Francis W. Parker, aged twentyseven, printer by trade, and I believe, for awhile, connected with the Adams Transcript. As they have but
just entered our prolific family, I am able to give you but
a brief account of him and his associate officers.
Robert B. Harvie, of Williamstown, is first lieutenant.
He is a young man of twenty-one years, painter by trade,
and has the appearance of having much energy and vim.
He looks like the lamented Colonel Ellsworth, and is a
splendid specimen of physical mankind. He will make a
popular officer.
The second lieutenant is Henry M. Lyons, a spinner
in Phillips's Woollen Mill at South Adams. He is twenty-three years of age, active and, intelligent. He has a




MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEE8.           31
brother a sergeant in the same company. George Southwick, of Adams, is the orderly.
On Thursday, the eighteenth, Co. A was mustered into
service for three months [he meant for nine months] by
Captain H. G. Thomas of the 11th Regulur Infantry.
The process is the examination of the rolls, and then the
mustering officer walks along the lines of men and examines them. At some he merely glances; others he tries
by running, and otherwise testing their wind and strength.
There is no appeal from his decision; and as he walks
along there is a great expanding of chest and rising to
the fullest height on the part of small men, while those
who fear they have teeth not adequate to the eating of
hard bread and the tearing of cartridges, need no injunc,tion about talking in the ranks. After he has thus examined them, throwing out whom he pleases, with uplifted
hands and uncovered heads, they subscribe to the following oath:
" You do solemnly swear that you will bear true allegiance to the United States of America, and that you
will serve them honestly and faithfully against all their
enemies or opposers whatsoever, and observe and obey
the orders of the President of the United States, and
the orders of the officers appointed over you, according to the rules and articles for the government of the
armies of the United States, for the period of nine months,
unless sooner discharged; that you will receive the pay,
rations, and such clothing as may from time to time be
allowed. So help you God!"
After swearing in the men, or in other words constituting a company, the officers are mustered in. Companies
B, C, D, E, and F were mustered in on the nineteenth, and
G on Sunday the twenty-first. At these musterings, a few
were rejected, and some of them for seemingly insufficient reasons. It was a cause. of mortification and sorrow
to them. Some, already tired of soldiering, refused to
take the oath. They were put under arrest, but soon re



82         LnrE WIrT THLE FORT-NmTT
leased. They could not legally be held, for the enlistment
papers they signed, read, " we promise to serve for nine
months from the time of being mustered into the service
of the United States." Law will not compel a man to
~take an oath; and until he is sworn, he cannot be mustered into the service.
We are no longer a body without a head. On Saturday, Captain William F. Bartlett assumed command of
this post. He belongs to the Twentieth Massachusetts
Volunteers, and last April lost a leg at the siege of Yorktown. His appearance denotes much of intelligent energy, and his gentlemanly manner, his soldierly bearing
(for he looks the soldier even on crutches), and our sympathy with him in his great loss, have made him at once a
universal favorite. We cannot afford to despise these
sudden likings  Soldiers, having their individuality absorbed in the mass, their independence in submission, are
somewhat like children, and reach conclusions, not by de*ductions of logic, but by their surer intuitions.
Lieutenant Francis has been appointed as acting quartermaster. Lieutenant Noble is our acting or post adjutant, and an excellent'one he makes too. He takes pride
and pleasure in his duties, and any one can see that he
enjoys his position. If these prove permanent appointments, it will be promotion for them, as adjutants and
quartermasters have the rank of first lieutenants  The
adjutant is the business officer of the regiment, having
supervision, under the commandant, of all affairs save
those belonging to the quartermaster's and medical departments.
Thus you see we are getting into running order. At
present, every thing runs smoothly. Pomeroy and Springstein feed us. It is said that they get forty cents a day
for each man. If so, they certainly have a lucrative job.
Our living is good, but we are so recently from home,
that we find fault with it. It seems strange to us to
have butter but once or twice a week, and to be con



Co. F'.'' 7
Capt. H. D. TRAIN.
Lieut. R. T. SHERMAN.                      Lieut. H. D. SISSONS.








MASSACHUSEITS VOLUNTEERS.            33
fined to what we have always considered the merest
necessaries. Happy soldiers! if this does not prove the
buttered side of our living. Tolerably flushed with money,
we supplement our meals at the sutler's stand, which,
is placed so conveniently near the tables as to lead to
the conclusion that the profits of the former are in an
inverse ratio to the superfluities of the latter. We march
to the tables in military order-there, order ceases; our
tin cups and plates make excellent table bells to attract
the attention of the waiters. When any luxury (?) such
as butter, cheese, or cake, makes its appearance, it is
greeted with three cheers and a tiger, and honest criticism leads to groans when we notice any great deficiency.
Men are detailed each day to help in the culinary department. It is not conducive to a vigorous appetite to watch
the minutiae of that department; but one thing is certain,
the detail of cooks always come back with clean hands.
The officers have a mess of their own, where, at five dollars per week, they find that position does not merely
mean honor, but increased comfort also.
The drum calls us up about sunrise, that most witching
time for sleep. No parleying, up we get, springing from our
planks like Minerva from Jupiter, ready armed and
clothed. Our hasty ablutions over, we attend roll-call,
and generally drill an tour before breakfast.  After
breakfast, our streets are cleaned -up, and at 8 A. M. we
have guard mountings. The guards appointed the previous morning are substituted by fresh ones, who are divided into three parts, called reliefs. Each relief serves two
hours on duty, and have four hours for rest, or as we call
it, "two hours on and four Slours off." We are furnished
with rusty fire-locks, and a true soldier never allows his
gun to touch the ground. There are few such among us
yet; and you might observe some of the sentinels lying
down several feet from their guns, which, supported by
the bayonets, gracefully present their butts to the sky.
We mean to be obedient, but soldiering here seems so
2*




34         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
much like playing, that we cannot make serious work
of it.
Under no circumstance must a sentinel give up his gun
but to an officer of the guard. Some officers find nNo little
sport in getting guns away from verdant, confiding ones,
and walking off with them, leaving the poor sentinel, who
must not leave his beat, weaponless to discharge his duty
and meet the relief guard. It is a quick way of learning
them a part of their work. Daily, an officer, called " officer of the day," is appointed to have supervision of the
camp. Among his duties, he visits all the sentinels at
midnight. He is saluted by each sentinel as "Grand
Rounds." A few evenings ago (the night was very dark)
this officer was making his midnight tour, and came
across an Irish sentry, who understood little about
"' Grand Rounds," but much about the pleasure of being
relieved from'duty. The sentry hailed him, "Who goes
there?" to which the officer responded, " Grand Rounds!"
Pat broke out, "To.- with your Grand Rounds! I
thought it was the relafe guard."  We have had many a
hearty laugh at this little incident. The guard-posts are
placed about ten rods apart, and if necessity requires the
imen to leave, they summon the corporal of the guard to
take their place by crying out, " Corporal of the Guard,
post 6," according to their number, and if their case be
urgent, add, " double quick." Living as we do, mainly
in the open air, and under different dietetic rules, the post
of " corporal of the guard" is not entirely one of honor;
not a mere sinecure. Working by day, or resting by
night, these summonses enable us to form some idea of
the health of the regiment.
For two Sabbaths I have been on guard, and I enjoyed
it, especially at night. A man has so few chances to be
alone while in camp, that I could but hail with pleasure my night-watches.  After the bustle of the day,
there was something very soothing in the-quietness. To
be in the midst of a thousand sleeping men, hearing




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           35
nothing save the measured tread of your fellow-sentries,
is like the solimnity of a large city in the small wee
hours of the night, or that silence which at times falls
on a crowd. It is a capital place for reflecting on what
we are leaving, what we are leaving for, what future we
are marching into. Sentinels, not only over a camp, but
over a nation's life! Enduring hardness for a night, that
a brilliant morning may dawn to all our land! Treading
the measured path of duty, that a country may grow
strong to step up to the right and the just! Accepting
a subordinate's life, that equality may be the birthright
of all!
After guard-mount, the detailed cooks go to their
work; the police force attend to the cleaning and purification of the camp; the orderlies make their report'to
the adjutant, and he to the commandant, while the soldiers lounge around, spending the time as they see fit till
about ten o'clock, when those who were not on guard
the preceding day, drill for an hour or an hour and a
half. About noon we dine; then, at two o'clock, comes
another season of drilling; and at five, "Dress Parade."
This is the grand event of the day. In two ranks deep
the whole regiment is drawn up, and go through motions
to resemble the manual of arms, so that we may be more
handy when we receive our arms. Here the first sergeants report the presence or account for the absence of
the men of their respective companies; then the adjutant reads the orders, and announces the details of officers for the following day. " Dress Parade" implies that
every man should have on his best uniform. On fatigue
duty, carelessness and comfort are the rules, but woe to
that unlucky wight who manifests a greater love of ease
and comfort than harmonizes with the commandant's
idea of military propriety and carriage! A sharp rebuke,
an extra term of guard duty, or an appropriation of the
lock-up to his special use, convinces him, that in becoming
a soldier for the common benefit, he has resigned many of




36          LIFE WrrH THE FORTY-NITe
the common rights and conveniences of life. Our boys
look more like Falstaff's soldiers than the pride of Berkshire. Uncle Sam having furnished us no uniforms, and
we having a regard to economy, appear not only in garbs
of every color, shape, and fashion, but of every quality
from indifferent to shabby. If " dress" has reference to
beauty and harmony with the occasion, ours is hardly a
"dress" parade; but if that word implies an infinite
variety, we can challenge the nation to produce our superior. Dress parade is followed by supper, and after that
we fill up these lovely September twilights and evenings
as we see fit, with singing circles, negro melodies, dances,
and occasionally a prayer-meeting, till the drums beat for
evening roll-call, which is soon followed by " taps," when
lights disappear from all save officers' tents, and quiet
rules over the camp.
The citizens of the different towns are remembering
the officers by presenting them more or less of their 6utfit. Last Saturday evening, Captain Weller was presented with a sword, belt, and sash, the gift of many friends.
The employes of the Pittsfield Woollen Mills have made
a similar present to Lieutenant Clark of the same company, while the inhabitants of Sternsville, not to be behind, have, as a token of respect, presented Lieutenant
Francis with a handsome sword, belt, sash, and revolver.
The presentation speech was made by Rev. Dr. Porter,
and handsomely responded to by the gratified recipient.
The services closed with- prayer and singing, " My
country!'tis of thee; sweet land of Liberty."  O! as
the land of Liberty,'tis noble,'tis grand to draw the
sword for her; for her, it is even sweet to die. I hope
these swords may aid in cutting a path t  Freedom.
Report is beginning to nominate out, field and staff
officers. The former, colonel, lieutenant-colonel, and major, are chosen by the line officers; the latter, adjutant,
quartermaster, surgeon, and assistant-surgeon, are appointed by tha coqlonel, while the chaplain is appointed




MASSACHUSEETS VOLUNTEERS.          37
by the colonel on the vote of the commanders of companies. Captain Thomas is spoken of by some as colonel.
I doubt if our Berkshire officers would vote for him.
He did not favorably impress us. He has had to do
with that class of soldiers who enlisted before this war
commenced. Some of them were pretty rough. While
here he seemed to forget that this contest has called out
a higher class, many of whom, in their own estimation,
and in that of others, are every whit his equal. Graham
H. Root, Esq., our very popular high sheriff, could
doubtless have the post, but he says he is not a military
man, and don't want it. We all wish it might be our
lot to serve under him, for we would then have a colonel
to whom obedience would be a pleasure. Captain Sumner is spoken of as major, lieutenant-colonel, or colonel;
and from all I hear, he can have his choice, but he thinks
the prosperity of the regiment would be better promoted
by choosing a commander from outside. He is more
than half right there. L. H. Gamwell, Esq., of Pittsfield,
is mentioned in the same connection. If he has the requisite military qualifications, Berkshire would feel safe
in intrusting her sons to his care. After all, the material
for a colonel may be found in our own camp. Two legs
are very valuable, but great battles have been won by
those who could boast of but one.




38         LIFE'WITH THE FORTY-NINTH.
LETTER VI.
CAMP BRIGGS, MASS., September 29, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
We are here yet, and no talk about our leaving. We
are waiting to fill up the regiment. The Eighth company
(H) came into camp Monday, September 22, from the
southern part of the county, and has in it men of sterling worth, some of the best of their respective towns.
Its roll shows ninety-one men, averaging in age twentythree years, ten months and five days; and in height, five
feet seven and one-sixth inches.
The captain is A. V. Shannon, of Lee, aged twentysix years. His profession is that of teacher. He is a
gentleman of many accomplishments, and has had the
benefit of some experience in the rebel service. The beginning of the rebellion found him teaching music in
Texas. That business failing him, he obtained a position
as clerk on board of a vessel afterwards engaged in the
rebel blockade. Fortunately for him, it was captured by
one of our blockading squadron, and with the crew
brought to New York, where, establishing his loyalty
to our flag, he was set free. Active, energetic, resolute,
I think he will make an excellent officer.
The first lieutenant is Burton D. Deming, of Sandisfield. He is one of our most reliable farmers, aged
thirty-one years. He is a quiet, unobtrusive man, but
of the firmest principles. As a matter of Christian duty,
he leaves wife and home for the toils and dangers of the
army. An early death may be his; but, let it come when
it may, by disease or bullet, I feel sure that it will be the
death of a true soldier of Freedom. He is of the stuff
that enters not into the making of shirkers and cowards.
Dr. Witt S. Smith, of Lee, is the second lieutenant.




Co..'.
N ~?'!                                        ~, ~
_/
Capt. B. A. ME
E~ ~ ~~~p. T. DRSE.              Jo~. DOIT
E.. R~8m..              )0~IT~








MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.             39
He is an active, intelligent young man of twenty-two
years of age, a book-keeper at home, and will make a
good officer.
Joseph B. Wolcott, of Sandisfield, is the orderly of the
company. He is a young man, twenty-four years old, of
unblemished character. The intimate friend of Lieutenant Deming, he is of the same type of character, and we
can confidently predict for him an honorable career.
The papers of the past week inform us that the President has again refused to receive negro soldiers, though
pressed on his acceptance by the conservative Governor
Sprague, of Rhode Island, and that he has issued a proclamation, dated September 22d, 1863, declaring free-,
dom to all slaves of rebel masters, who shall live in districts that do not, as an evidence of their loyalty, send
representatives to Congress by the first of January, 1863.
Well, old Abe is a strange man. Offering a bribe for the
return of rebels to their allegiance, may make the refusal
of negro soldiers necessary, and I think the President, in
his heart, says, "Look here! rebels! I give you one
more chance to repent. I dislike slavery, but I dislike
disunion and war more. Now, I have offered to buy your
slaves, so that you might come back to your loyalty fullhanded. I have refused to increase your causeless irritation, by enlisting the negroes; but, mark me, if you
are not in the Union by the first of next January, I am
done with offers of mercy, and I will not only declare
your slaves free, but I will put arms into the hands of
every one willing to use them, be he white, red, black,
or cream-colored, free or bond." If this be his meaning,
I am willing to wait and trust him. Notwithstanding
the anomalousness of the whole proceeding, I am far
from looking at it as a mere brutum fulmen. Itis the
President's lingering farewell to the conservatives, and
his " All hail radicals!"  If he be sustained in the coming elections, all right; but if he be not sustained, and
the rebels do not return to their allegiance by the first




40         LIFE] WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
of January (and of course they will not, if the elections
show a divided North), what then? His word is pledged— will he recant? Has he ever forfeited that word? ever
taken any backward steps? Never! and I try to believe
that he will be faithful in this grand hour. If Mr. Lincoln should violate his promise, Europe would see as
much, if not more, hope for the slave in the success of
the South than in our success, and a speedy recognition
of the Confederacy would be the result. Recant! and
the South can readily enlist, by sympathy and by arms,
the. services of the negroes. Emancipation must come.
Certainly, the first of January will see no representatives
of rebeldom in our congressional halls. The President
has taken the decisive step;. every bridge is burned behind him. Truly, his war-cry nust be "Liberty, or
Death!" Our pilot is stepping up to the great principles
involved in this struggle, and we will find that God will
clothe us with more earnestness, as each man puts to
himself this question:
"If Heaven should lose, and Hell should win,
On whom shall lie the mortal sin?"
Ah  that is the question. Give us men who feel, to
the very core of their natures, that the issue is between
heaven losing, and hell winning, and not Cromwell's
Ironsides will equal us. It is an issue between Right and
Wrong, between Good and Evil, God and Satan. The
moral power is what we want. Then our hardships will
be sweet, and our death-beds, though on the gory sod,
be more enviable, more precious, than ever vouchsafed to
warriors. Through shameful blunders, through seas of
wasted blood, God will yet bring the nation, to whom
He- has showed such long-suffering, where the breezes of
Freedom refresh every soul. Then, we may look backto the dreary days of 1862, to the grave-crowded Peninsula, and thank Him for\ deferring success till success
meant not only the preservation of the Union, but of the




MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.             41
divine Spirit living in and animating that Union. In view
of this, I greet' our martyred dead, counting not their
seemingly wasted lives a loss, or too great a price for the
assurance that Freedom is always safe in the Union. To
make this an eternal verity, I am  full willing to swell
the number of the slaughtered dead. In " hopes nursed
in tears," I sing:'Sail on I 0 Union, strong and great I
Humanity, with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate.
In spite: of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea:
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee, are all with thee."
To return. Mr. Peter Springstein, of the United States
Hotel, will go with us as sutler. It may be a lucrative position, but not a pleasant one. In order to make it pay,
he must sell his goods at a large profit. An inroad of
the enemy, a capture of a sutler's-vessel, may swallow up
the profits of months. Men forget the risks, the losses,
and only remember the big holes sutlers' goods at sutlers' prices make in their thirteen dollars a month. Mr.
Springstein is a gentlemanly and generous man, and I
wish him success as sutler to the Forty-ninth.
Dr. J. H. Manning, of Pittsfield, is acting as regimental
surgeon. Perchance he may go with us. He is a kind
man, and would sympathize with the sick. - Sometimes
sympathy is worth more than drugs.  Dr. R. C. Stiles
has the general medical superintendence of the post. He
is my beau ideal of an army surgeon.
Well, we have now a quartermaster's department. G.
E. Howard, of Lanesboro, is acting quartermaster sergeant. He is a sergeant in Co. A, and a very fine penman. Finding there was no military aptitude in me, I




42         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
have entered this department as commissary sergeant.
H. H. Northup, of Cheshire, a corporal in Co. C, one of
the soldiers of Wilson's Creek, Missouri, G. E. Callender, -Co. E, a faithful boy of nineteen, and D. C. Patterson, also of Co. E, our butcher,. a sui generis, make up
the number, who, under Lieutenant Francis, run this
machine.
Army blankets, coarse, gray, and, we hope, woollen,
have been given to teW men. They are not entirely
guiltless of shoddy, and if they last us nine months, we
will speak better of them then than we do now. If you lie
down on them, your clothes look as if you had been
sleeping with a dozen cats.
We now receive our subsistence directly from the United
States and cook it ourselves. Each company has a cook
and an assistant cook, who are relieved from all other duties. They are generally assisted by a daily detail of
two men. In addition to these there is one styled the
commissary of the company. It is his duty to see that
the company gets its prescribed rations, to sell what they
do not use, placing the proceeds in the hands of the captain as treasurer of the company's fund. He is relieved
from guard duty and from all other duties which would
embarrass him in his work as commissary. Massachusetts gives each man a tin plate, cup, spoon, and a knife
and fork. In the regular service and from most other
states, the soldiers have to furnish themselves with these
necessaries. Some companies serve out-the cooked rations to each man separately, while others place them on
tables for common use. Each soldier keeps his own eating utensils clean, or by a small monthly gratuity to the
cook, relieves himself of that unpleasant task. We live
well. Government gives us plenty of food and some of
our cooks are real experts. Come and dine at Hotel B
or D or E, and you will get a meal that needs not the
novelty of camp life to make it relish. It is wonderful
how much the boys eat. Living out doors sharpens the




MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEERS.          43
appetite.  Butter, pies, cakes, pickles, and many other
luxuries not furnished by our kind Uncle Sam, grace
our tables. Our friends bring or send so many home
comforts that we must needs get away from Berkshire
before we can learn any of the privations of soldiers' life.
Companies D and E are the most favored in that respect. Beef, fresh or corned, and fine beef it is, furnished
by D. and W. Sprague, is dealt out five days in the week.
The other two days we fall back on the soldiers' friend —
salt pork. Mr. H. B. Brewster brings each man daily a
loaf of fresh bread.
The government ration is as follows. Bear in mind a
ration is one day's food for one man. One and a quarter
pound of fresh or salt beef, or three quarters of a pound
of pork, twenty-two ounces of soft bread or flour, or sixteen ounces of hard bread, or one and a quarter pound
corn meal, eight quarts of beans to one hundred men,
ten pounds of rice, eight pounds of roasted coffee or a
pound a half of tea, fifteen pounds of sugar, one and onefourth pound of adamantine canfdles, four pounds of soap,
two quarts of salt, three pecks of potatoes, and a quart
of molasses. Suppose a family of four men feeding at
this rate, and they would use in a year eighteen hundred
and twenty pounds of beef or one thousand and ninetysix pounds of pork, three bushels and twenty quarts of
beans, one hundred and fifty-five pounds of rice, one
hundred and seventeen pounds of coffee or twenty-two
pounds of tea, two hundred and nineteen pounds of sugar, fourteen and a halfpounds of adamantine candles, fifty-eight pounds of soap, twenty-nine quarts-of salt, ten
and a half bushels of potatoes, four gallons of molasses,
besides two thousand and seven pounds (over ten barrels)
-of bread or flour. Can the men eat all their rations?
Used, as they would be at home, No; as they are in our
camp, No; as they are in active service, Yes. Soldiers
cannot save as soldiers' wives could. Waste, there will
be. The government provides for that waste. The ra



a44         LIFE:WITH THE FORTY -N5TTH
tions a company does not seefit to draw are credited to
them and they receivemoney in lieu thereof. I know of
companies that have added one hundred dollars a month by
these savings to their company fund. Do they really get
these rations?  If they do not, it is the fault of.their commissaries. Any intelligent man can, without scales, soon
learn the amount due his company. When'before the enemy, I do not suppose they get half this, variety, but, by
proper management, they can get money in lieu of the deficiency.
Who shall be our colonel is a question much discussed
among officers and men. If Captain Bartlett can be
weaned from his old regiment (I understand he can have
the command of that if he desires it), he will be our colonel. Report says he is Captain Sumner's choice, and,
as he has virtually declined a nomination to that office,
his choice will be apt to be the choice. of all. I learn
that'Captain Bartlett has no idea of abandoning the profession of arins,-but will return to the field as soon as he
is able to use an artificial leg. The following article,
written by one prominent in civil and military life, as
originally published in the Boston Courier, is now read
by, us with great interest:
" In the month of April, 1861, soon after Fort Sumter
had fallen, and Colonel Jones's regiment had been attacked
in the streets of Baltimore, the Fourth Battalion of Infantry was called upon to garrison Fort Independence in
Boston harbor. On Thursday, the 25th of April, the
battalion left their armory, and marched through crowded streets, and under countless tags, to the boat which
was to take them to the fort. In the ranks marched a
young man named Bartlett, a member of the Junior class
in Harvard College. During the month passed by the
battalion at the fort, his rapid progress in learning, and
his promptness and fidelity in practising the duties of a
soldier, his carriage under arms, and the manly character
he displayed, attracted the attention of the officers. A




MASSACHUSETS  VOLUNTEERS.           45
few weeks after the battalion had returned from the fort,
Massadhusetts was answering the call of the General Government for volunteers, and the command of a regiment
was offered to Colonel Wm. Raymbnd Lee. He accepted
the office, and was permitted to nominate officers to raise
two companies to complete his regiment. Such was the
impression that Bartlett, —the young Cambridge student,
the private in the ranks of the Fourth Battalion, had produced, that Colonel Lee was advised to nominate him for
one of the two: vacant captaincies. He did so, and the
nomination was approved, and Captain Bartlett, with the
assistance of Lieutenant, now Captain Macy, and Lieu.
tenant Abbott, raised a company. The regiment, since
known as the Twentieth, marched into camp at Readville, on the 10th of July, and there remained till the
4th of September, when it started for the seat of war.
The officers' commissions were dated on the same day,
and, shortly before leaving Readville, their regimental
rank was assigned by Colonel Lee, after consultation with
his field and staff officers. Their estimate of the merits
of Captain Bartlett, was shown by the fact that he was
named senior captain, and his company, therefore, tookthe right flank of the regiment.' For six weeks after the regiment reached the seat of
war, there was little of interest in its history. One day
was much like another. Captain Bartlett's discharge of
all the duties of his position was thorough, lais care of his
men was scrupulous and devoted. -Neither he nor any
other officer of the regiment, had any opportunity to distinguish himself.
"On the 21st of October, he commanded his company
in the atffair of Ball's Bluff. There are plenty of witnesses to the gallantry and coolness with which he; led himen in that trying day. There are many who know that
when the field seemed: lost beyond redemption, when few
of our troops were left on the field, and none in order,
Captain Bartlett, hoping against hope, rallied men enough




46         LIFE WITH THE, FORJTY-INTH
for one more effort, and charged with them upon the
enemy's line, till, in the twilight of smoke and the shadow
of trees, they could see the color of the clothes of their
opponents, and were driven back by the blasting fire of
those well-ordered troops.
" When the twilight was deepening, and the fire of the
enemy from the heights and the dread of the rushing river
were combined to drive to despair the beaten few who
were collected on the shore, Captain Bartlett and Captain
Tremlett, and Lieutenant Whittier and Lieutenant Abbott, all of the Twentieth, collected about eighty men,
only twenty of whom belonged to their own regiment,
and led them up the river and along its banks. At about
a mile from the battle ground, in the race of a flour mill,
they found a crazy sunken boat. They caused this to be
bailed out, and found it would hold five. Captain Tremlett and one lieutenant put the men into an old barn near
by, and kept them quiet there. Captain Bartlett sent
the other lieutenant across with the first load, to take
charge of the men as they arrived, and stood alone upon
the bank to superintend the tedious transportation. The
rapid current delayed the clumsy, heavy boat, the darkness of the nightincreased the difficulty of bringing it back
to the point from which it started. Not less than sixteen trips were made before those gallant officers crossed
themselves, in the last trip it made. Let it be remembered that these officers, wearied by the sleepless night
of Sunday, the alternate suspense and fighting of Monday, distressed by defeat, and the belief that their friends
and. comrades were dead or prisoners, waited, within
sound of the enemy's musketry, expecting every moment
the swoop of cavalry, waited for hours, till a boat that
was little better than water-logged and oarless, had made
many trips, and they had saved eighty men, of whom
three-quarters were utter strangers to them and to their
regiment.
"Colonel Lee and Major Revere were taken prisoners on




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          47
the evening of that day. When Captain Bartlett awoke
the next morning, he found himself in command of the
camp, his only superior officer having been ordered across
the river, with all his disposable effective force, by General
Lander. He remained in command during the whole of
the 22d and 23d, and part of the 24th, when he was relieved by the return of the lieutenant-colonel of the regiment. His action during this interval was wise and
salutary. It showed thoughtfulness beyond his years.
Besides the many wounded who were brought in, unhurt
officers and men arrived by ones, twos, and threes, and
two whole companies returned, which had not been engaged. By a partial resumption of the usual routine of
the camp, with a just allowance for the mental and physical fatigue of the men, and judicious employment of the
band, Captain Bartlett changed, in a measure, the current of the thoughts of the men; he broke up any tendency to depression of spirits, and introduced a cheerful
tone, of which he himself set a signal example.
"The assistance rendered by Captain Bartlett to the
commanding officer from that time, was of the very highest value, and was recognized as such by him and by the
regiment. He possessed a singular natural aptitude for
the profession of arms, and the fidelity with which he applied himself, made him rapidly master of all the knowledge that was necessary in his. position, and of much for
which there would have been occasion in a much higher
one. His power of imparting knowledge was equal to
his power of acquiring it, and he was alike remarkable
for his accuracy in details, and for the ease with which
he grasped general principles, and the readiness with
which he applied them. His services to the 20th regiment, as an instructor and as an example, are such as it
is impossible to estimate too highly.
" On Thursday, April 24th, 1862, one year from the day
when the 4th battalion went to Fort Independence, the
20th Massachusetts Volunteers relieved another regiment




48         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
in guarding a portion of the lines before Yorktown.
While visiting the advanced posts, Captain Bartlett was
shot in the left knee, and the knee-joint and a portion of
the bone of the lower leg was shattered and destroyed.
His leg was presently amputated, and he was sent northward to be under the care of his friends.
"One year from the day when this gallant soldier first
bore arms, saw his military career suddenly checked.
With the attachment and admiration that are felt for
him in his regiment, the public has little to do; nor need
we dwell upon the peculiar sadness of such a misfortune to one who was so conspicuous for the beauty of the
tall, straight figure, which was gaining strength and fulness every day. It is his comrades who miss the glance
of the clear blue eye, the sweet smile, the erect carriage,
the voice, cheery in talk, powerful and full of dignity
in giving the word of command. But it is right that
the public should know that the officer who, with the
rank of Captain, not in battle, not even in a skirmish, has
been maimed for life in the siege of Yorktown,-was a
soldier of the most brilliant promise-a man who, before
his classmates had taken their degrees at Cambridge, has
served his country nearly a year; has led men gallantly,
and saved men nobly on the darkest day the war has
brought; and who, in all the time of his bearing arms,
and in a regiment that has suffered more than any other
in the Army of the Potomac, has set to every one around
him a shining example of every soldierly excellence.
Perchance- some of the above should be ascribed to the
blindness of affection, and some to the tenderness that is
always feltsfor a great affliction. Grant that, and yet
there remaitis much for a foundation of our confidence in
Captain Bartlett. Fresh from Harvard University,,entering the service as a private, raised in Boston where
he has influential friends, —these may have led to his appointment as Captain in the Twentieth Massachusetts
Volunteers; but a wise man like Colonel Wm. Raymond




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           49
Lee, having command of a crack regiment, and a military reputation to establish, would not have selected and
appointed him senior captain, unless convinced that he
was worthy of the position. That alone would warrant
his election to the colonelcy of the. Forty-ninth. That he
has a natural aptitude for military life, every observer
would declare.  As few men, he looks the soldier.
Though quiet, there is an air of command about him
that would make obedience to his orders almost involuntary. His college associates say that he surpassed them
all in military studies. True, he is young, only twentytwo years of age, but age is not always wisdom, nor
youth always folly. We have made up our minds to follo'w our leader, whomsoever he may be, wise in us, seeing that we cannot do otherwise, but Colonel Bartlett
we could follow with an enthusiastic pride.
We are all happy in camp. Our duties are so novel,
that theyr are performed with pleasure, and the magnificent weather, the presence of our friends and of hosts
of visitors, conspire to make the days glide away as a
pleasant dream.  0! how. yearningly will we recall
these days when meeting the sufferings and dangers of
real war.
3




5 0         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER VII.
CAMP BRIGGs, MASS., October.6, 1862.
MY DEAR L.:
Yesterday, the gifted Major W. D. Sedgwick, of Lenox, was buried. He fell in the ruinous victory at Antietam. Amid the surges of battle, with his dying strength,
he wrote in his memorandum book, "I have tried to do
my duty." The army has lost a brave and skilful soldier, the nation an earnest patriot, and the Forty-ninth ga
excellent colonel; for, had he lived, there is no doubt
that he would have been chosen to fill that position. Co.
A acted as the guard of honor at the burial, while Captains Sumner, Weller, Garlick, Plunkett, and Lieutenants
Francis, Kniffin, Wells, Tucker, Smith, officiated as pallbearers. They buried him at close of day. The sun was
setting, and the moon just rising. It was a solemn scene,
one long to be remembered. There was the dead hero,
and there the Forty-ninth going forth as he had gone,
some of them perchance to be brought back like him.
We have now a chapel of our own. It is half chapel,
half guard-house. As the guard is required to be about
the guard-house the whole of their respective twenty-four
hours, not spent on their beats, it has added much to
their comfort, but proved a comparative failure for devotional purposes. I have heard of religious services in
prisons and theatres; this is our prison (in one end there
is a lock-up) and theatre7, and surely here, those services
are not impressive.  Scarce a month of carp life has
rolled away, and I fancy I can see some signs of moral
deterioration. Prudery is not a camp vice; things are
called by their plainest names, and the giving up of that
delicacy and refinement of speech, observed, more or less,




Co. G.,
(j      (2>
h~
\..~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~/I ~7 
/ ___             ~":'49'j:
(~i 
Cap F       ARE
Len  P B  ART                 LntI MLYN








MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           51
by all at home, is preparing the way for obscenity and
profanity.
The past week has been enlivened by a number of presentations to officers. On the evening of September 30th
there was quite a gathering at the office of Colt and Pingree, when Mr. Pingree, in behalf of the donors, presented to Captain Garlick a handsome sword, sash, belt, revolver, and a pair of richly gilded shoulder-straps, on receiving which the captain made an appropriate speech.
At the instance of Messrs. Rathbun, Lieutenant Wells
of Co. C was presented with sword, sash, belt and pistol. Messrs. L. H. Gamwell, and W. R. Plunkett, spoke
at the presentation. The people of Stockbridge showed
their appreciation of Lieutenant Dresser of Co. F, by'
similar presents, as also did the good people of Egremont and Mill River to Lieutenants Sherman and Sissons
of Co. E.
We have a theory that soldier life implies hardship and
privation. To have more than a theory Captain Bartlett
will have to exclude the numerous crinolined sutlers that
throng the camp, invade our tents, and who ask no recompense but a hearty devouring of the home delicacies
they bring. Lift up certain boards in our tent floors,
and you will find that we are quite independent of the
recognized sutler, and of our bountiful friend, Uncle
Sam.  We cannot say much of the order reigning in our
pantries, for superabundance renders that impracticable;
but from their depths, we bring pies, cake, cheese, butter, milk, pickles, preserves, and other comforts that
make soldiering in this delightful weather one of'the
brightest episodes in our lives. At breakfast and supper, milk peddlers visit us, and if it be true that " that
man cannot be wholly evil who is fond of milk," we show
our primitive innocence and purity, by sending the peddlers home with empty cans and full purses. One of our
officers, to all these things, says: "Away! I'll have none
of them.* rll harden myself against the day of hardness."




52          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
And we say, "let him harden."  " Sufficient to the day is
the evil thereof."  I never knew a man better prepared for
abstinence at dinner, by rejecting his breakfast. Success
to him, but I fear his converts will be few until we bid a
long adieu to mothers and sisters and sweethearts, and to
the lowing kine of Berkshire.
Though Lieutenant Francis is the acting quartermaster
of the regiment, yet much of the work is done by Mr.
Henry B. Brewster, of Pittsfield, who expects to accompany the regiment in that capacity. I hope he may, for
he is reputed a good business man, and honest. It will
be pleasant for our friends at home to know we have a
quartermaster who will not enrich himself, at the expense
of our health and comfort.
We are getting our hospital in running order, though
fortunately we have but little need of it. The surgeons
buy for the use of the sick, all the delicacies they need.
The quartermaster credits them with a ration for each
man in hospital, and charges them with what food they
actually draw. The value of the remainder- forms a hospital fund, for the-purchasing of articles of food not furnished: by the government. Properly managed, there is
always a sufficiency of funds to insure the sick whatever
they may need or crave. The deficiency, if any, will be
in preparing the food. In active service, the sick may
suffer from the impossibility of purchasing needed luxuries. Every man who has not had the small-pox, or been
vaccinated, is being vaccinated. We are providing for
our safety.








Co. IT.
r~~~~~~~~~~~~~lf...! IM:mW;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i
IN
Capt. A. V. SHANNON.
Lieut. B. D. DEMING.   Sergeant  ~ WOLCOTT.  Lieut. D. S. SgITH.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          53
LETTER VIII.
CAMP BRIGGS, MASS., October 8, 1862.
My DEAR L.:
The ninth company, I, came- into camp on Wednesday,
October 8th, making it pretty nearly certain that the
Forty-ninth will not be consolidated with some other nucleus,f a regiment, but will have an individual existence
and a separate history. Its roll shows eighty-eight men,
average twenty-seven years of age, and five feet eight
and one-half inches in height.
Zenas C. Rennie, of Pittsfield, is captain. His ige is
twenty-six years. If he shows as much energy and perseverance in commanding as he has in raising his eompany, he will be,one of our very best officers..
Le Roy S. Kellogg, farmer, of Lee, aged thirty-one
years, and William Nichols, car-maker, of Williamstown,
aged twenty-four years, are respectively first and second
lieutenant. As I have never met either of these officers,
I am unable to introduce them to you. Its orderly is
James McKenna, of Pittsfield.
On Tuesday, the fourteenth instant, Co. K filed into
the tenth street. Captains Rennie and Weston have not
only saved the Forty-ninth from being smothered in the
birth, but they have also saved the county the unpleasantness and dishonor of a draft. We welcome this tenth
company, insuring, as it does, our regimental life, with
more joy than any other company. It is worthy of it.
Born out of due time, raised from what seemed a thoroughly gleaned county, in twelve days, it is not, as one
might suppose, the refuse, but rather the cream, of the
county. For size, general appearance, intelligence and
character, it is not surpassed by any company in the regi



5-4         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
ment. Need I, can I, say more? It is composed of
ninety-one men, averaging twenty-seven years five
months and twenty-five days in age, and in height five
feet eight and one-fourth inches.
Byron Weston, aged thirty-one years, is captain. He
occupied a prominent position in the paper house of
Platner and Smith, Lee, and is very much of a gentleman; so quiet and easy in his manners, as to lead one to
suppose that his forte lies outside the military life; but
the great energy he manifested in raising his company
with no help from the selectmen of the different towns,
shows that there is in him the real grit of the soldier.
Roscoe C. Taft, aged twenty-six years, merchant, of
Sheffield, is the first lieutenant. He is a pleasant, active
officer; and the large number of recruits raised for his
company from Sheffield, which had sent so many before,
attests his energy and popularity.
The second lieutenant is Isaac E. Judd, clerk, from
Egremont. He is but twenty-two years of age, but the
first glance convinces you he is a born soldier. Some
men never seem at home in their regimentals; the " hay
seeds stick to their collars." Not so Lieutenant Judd.
He wdars uniform and sword as if he were born with
them; Though the prince of good fellows, and full of
animal spirits, yet, on duty, without swaggering, he
maintains the dignity of his office. He was a very popular teacher in one of the schools at Barrington, and is a
superior penman and accountant. He entered the regiment as a sergeant in Co. E.
Company K is also fortunate in the selection of Sanford B. Gleason for orderly or first sergeant. He is a
printer from Vermont, shrewd and active, and will look
out well for his company and for himself. Thus officered
and thus composed, Co. K starts well. Their mechanical
ingenuity was brought into play at once, in the ereption
of barracks, for we could obtain no tents for them. And
comfortable barracks they are. As the north-westers




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTERS.           55
sweep down on us these frosty nights, we would willingly exchange our tents for company K's barracks.
Well, we are no longer a pie-bald set, each one wearing his own uniform, but we are clothed in United States
garments. We are allowed three and one-half dollars
per month for clothing in addition to our regular pay.
We can furnish our own clothing if we choose (of course
it must be uniform with that provided by the Government), and be credited with what we do not draw. If
we draw more than the regulated allowance, the excess
is deducted from our pay. With the exception of our
overcoats, we are well clothed, each one having overcoat, dress-coat, and blouse, hat [great high-crowned felt
hat] and cap, two pairs of flannel shirts, drawers, and
stockings, one pair of shoes, one pair of trowsers, and a
rubber blanket. It is an amusing and perplexing business, that of fitting the boys. We give to each captain
so many of each article of clothing, and he distributes
them according to the men's sizes and the marks on the
clothes. It not unfrequently happens that " ones' are
marked "four," and fours " one."  To exchange with the
quartermaster is their fancied relief. Sometimes a little
fellow will come with dress-coat too large for an overcoat for him, and with pantaloons so long one way as to
render a vest unnecessary, and the other way presenting
a double thickness almost to his knees. Again, some
giant clothed in Lilliputian raiment, will make his appearance, the sleeves of his coat near his elbows, while
his pantaloons look as if the defunct short-clothes of our
fathers had had a resurrection. Motion with him is
scarce possible, while the manual of arms or the "doublequick" would be sure to result in an extravagant expenditure of Uncle Sam's toggery. The dwarf and the giant
exchange clothes to their mutual comfort and improvement.
Instead of light-blue pants, we are furnished with darkblues; so with our black overcoats, and big' black hats,




56         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
we look on "Dress-parade" as prepared for the solemnities of an execution or a funeral. Cromwell's Ironsides
did not present a more demure appearance. If some one
had but started a hymn of Dr. Watts in the true Yankee
nasal tone, the illusion would have been complete.,,We are
charged for dress-coats six dollars and seventy-one cents;
for flannel shirts, eighty-eight cents; for drawers, fifty
cents; for pants, three dollars and three cents. As the
materials are good, and contractors will make money,
God pity the poor who have made them. Truly, " it is
not linen we're wearing out, it is human creatures' lives."
How much we need to get slavery out of the way, that
we may grapple with the great questions of Social Reform. Its aggressions and the nation's consequent danger have absorbed all our thoughts and energies. Evil
itself, it prevents us attacking other and greater evils.
To remove it, the land may well " sweat blood, and vomit flame."
The citizens of North Adams have presented Captain
Parker with sword, sash, belt, and pistol; and the people
of Williamstown have done a similar favor to Lieutenant
Harvie, lacking only the pistol, which lack was supplied
by the members of his company (G), through Sergeant
Nordaby. Lieutenant Lyon's real merit has not been
unappreciated. His former associates in Phillip's Woolen
Mill, South Adams, and other friends, have bestowed on
him a handsome swoxd, sash, belt, pistol, shoulder-straps,
and steel vest. Thus, you see they have had an eye not
only to his adornment and effectiveness, but to his safe
return.








Co. I1.
-  ~'.' ". /
A"%,,:f                                        i!
/                                      N
__.%,                                                \...
Hill~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
\I\I,~~~ li It   1    1 
Capt. Z. O:::
L.KS.~ELLOG4G.'. A-                  4 CHlr,
~~~ -i/'I~
77//i~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
K~ ~ ~~~\                                ~~ %Qi'4I   a /
K';~T                                                i.7. -
I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~f -(I ff 
Canpt. Z. C~. RlENNIE.
L;~. S.I~ELLOGK1.               ~\V,\ NTPT~rnT




MASSACHUSEITrS VOLUNTEERS.         5'7
LETTER IX.
CAMP BRIGGS, MASS., Octobe~r 30, 1862.
MY DEAR L.:
On Tuesday, the 28th instant, companies H, I, and K,
were duly mustered into the United States service. I
had not a single man rejected. A final caucus was held
on Monday evening for the nomination of field officers.
Though it was an informal election, it is understood to
be binding, and that the formal election will but ratify the
informal. This is proper; for not knowing how soon
we may leave, the newly chosen field officers should have
an opportunity to equip themselves as the law directs.
Captain Bartlett, and it is now declared he will accept,
was chosen colonel; Captain Sumner, lieutenant-colonel;
and Captain Morey, major. I am glad that Captain
Plunkett does not leave Co. C. That company can illy
spare him. He devotes himself to study, and is making
rapid progress. Take him away, and much of the incentive to study would be lost, for the positions of lieutenantcolonel and major are mere sinecures when the colonel is
present. Remove him from Co. C, and another election
would be necessary. Be assured, that election, result as
it may, will only weaken and demoralize the company.
Captain Plunkett's own merit, his social position, his
family standing, all tend to make a united company of
that which, remove him, will be the least united of any in
the regiment. Major Morey owes his success to his creditable manner of handling the regiment at a recent battalion drill. He is a fine officer, and has done much for
Co. F. We, in the quartermaster's department, know
thait; no other officer watches so closely over the interests
of his men. No other has had his experience. Firm
3*




58          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NITNTH
seemingly stern, but kind, he will make an excellent
major. I believe, that when the men come to know him,
he will have an influence over them, second only to Colonel Bartlett. Lieutenant-Colonel Sumner has never been
deemed devoid of ambition; so, his refusal of tlie Colonelcy shows that ambition in him coexists with patriotism, modesty, and good sense, otherwise he would sacrifice the welfare of the regiment to his own interest. Say
what you will, a lieutenant-colonel is doomed to an inferior part, unless the colonel is absent or removed;
then he is virtually commander. For my part, I would
prefer to be at the head of a company. Rank is rank, I
know, but it seems to me that an ambitious man would
rather fill a subordinate position with which there is an
exercise of power, than to have merely a higher rank,
with almost no power. Of course, these remarks apply
equally to the position of major.
Not only are the men drilled daily, and are improving rapidly, but the officers also show the benefits of
their daily drilling by Captain Bartlett. It is a treat to
see that man go through the manual of arms. Hle puts
such a finish, such a vim to every motion. For two
hours at a time, he will stand on that remaining leg, till
half of us believe he never had any need- of the one buried
at Yorktown, but it was only a superfluous member or
mere ornament. Sometimes we try to see how long we
can stand on one leg; a few short minutes, and we require the use of both, or find ourselves reeling about like
decapitated hens. If the colonel (I will call him such)
needs rest, he takes it as a part of the exercise, so we cannot tell which is manual of arms and which rest. The
cords of that right leg must stand out like great whip hlshes.
There is will about all this. It is this quiet, intense determination, this fixedness of will, that makes us desir.e
Colonel Bartlett, with but one leg, for our commander,
over any other man with the full complement of limbs.
Somehow or other, we cannot tell why, we believe that




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           59
he will not be the mere buffet of circumstances, but
will ride over, and lead us over all difficulties. Every
man salutes him, and he always salutes in return. In
saluting, the back of the right hand is brought up to the
visor of the cap, then the arm is fully extended, and
brought down to the side. You can see it is no easy
thing-to be done walking on two crutches, but the Colonel does it, not halting to do it, but, while walking on
and in the most approved military manner. This may
seem to you a small matter, but to us it indicates the born
soldier, the man who will do the duties he has assumed.
The other day, while riding in his carriage, he put the
regiment through battalion drill.  What a noble voice,
he has, a deep bass, yet as clear and distinct as any tenor.
It is full of command. He don't have to put in any expletives to insure attention and prompt obedience. They
are all in the.mere voice. Over, or rather under all noise,
with apparently no effort, that voice carries his orders to
the remotest soldier. Take him all and in all, I have yet
to meet one who so fully embodies my conceptions of a
commander as Colonel Bartlett. I know but little of him
as a man, yet one thing laid the foundation of trust and respect. It is necessary for the commandant of the post to
examine and sign many of our returns. The formula is:
" I certify, on honor, that I have carefully examined the
above return, and find it to be correct." I expected that
the signing of it would be a rapid and formal matter, but
not so; Colonel Bartlett pledges his honor to the accuracy of the paper, and so, he does " carefully examine it."
Last Tuesday, Co. D, and some of Co. E, visited Barrington. A sumptuous dinner awaited them, after which
swords, sashes, belts, were presented to the officers of
Co. D1, by the citizens, through Rev. H. Winslow. Each
of the favored, responded in a suitable speech, making
the day one often to be pleasantly remembered amid sterner scenes. I believe Mr. Parley A. Russell was the main
mover in getting up the presented articles. John H.




60         LIFE WIT  THE FORTY-NINTH
Coffing, Esq., placed one hundred dollars in the hands of
Lieutenant Tucker, as a fund for the benefit of the sick
of Co. D. Such tender exhibitions of patriotism strengthen soldiers in their determination to do their duty. Many
a weary one may yet thank the considerate heart of Mr.
Coffing. The citizens of West Stockbridge have presented Lieutenant Kniffin with an outfit. He merits it,
being of the most worthy and popular of all our officers.
Lieutenant Noble, of Co. B, received sword, sash and
belt from the members of that company: a delicate appreciation of his merit and services. Co. K has also been
the recipients of similar favors. H. C. and M. Hulbert,
of New York, presented them with a silken flag, while
their captain received a brace of revolvers, one from his
friends in Lee, the other from Major F. Weston, of Dalton. The exercises took place at camp, speeches being
made by Messrs. Branning and G. H. Phelps, of Lee, followed by the enthusiastic cheers of the company. Some
unknown one of Pittsfield sent them a drum, while the
members of the company presented Captain Weston with
sword and trimmings. Lieutenants Judd and Taft, each
received a sword, sash and belt, from their friends.
Our days pass pleasantly on, but with nothing of
marked interest. Fully clothed, the regiment has several
times marched into town, creating quite a sensation.
Now, that they are uniformed, their remarkable physique
attracts much attention. They are certainly a noble-looking body of hien. War is based on the physical, and
while uniform hides individuality, it brings the physical
into bold relief. I doubt if Massachusetts ever before
gathered so fine a looking regiment.
On last Sunday afternoon, Dr. Todd presented us with
neat pocket editions of the New Testament, in behalf of
the Berkshire County Bible Society. His remarks were
pertinent, characterized by that practical good sense,
forming so large and valuable a part of his mental nature.
The Testaments were gratefully received, and will, I be



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEErZS.         6]
lieve, be generally preserved and read. Destitute of
reading matter, having much unemployed time on our
hands, very ennui will lead us to peruse them. It will be
handling a sharp, two-edged sword, that may unwittingly
wound us to our eternal cure. I got some tracts, papers,
magazines, which I distributed among the boys. They
were eagerly seized, tracts included.  A reading regiment, how much mental stagnation is before us, if we can
judge the future by the few past weeks. Much is being
done to relieve this stagnation, much more will be done.
but after all, it will be impossible to keep our army fully'
supplied. That would require a large library, the transportation of which would very often be impossible.
We are allowed to go in squads, under the charge of
officers or sergeants, to churches, lectures, concerts. A
large number of us took the opportunity to hear Charles
Sumner speak, and the Hutchinsons sing.  Did you
ever hear them sing the John Brown song? As they sing
it, it is wondrously inspiriting. While listening to them,
I almost loathed General McClellan. When they:went
to the Army of the Potomac, singing to the soldiers without charge, he ejected them from his lines.  Why?
simply because they sang the songs of freedom. Nothing that he ever did made me believe that his heart was
rotten with love for the South, so much as that. Depriving his soldiers, wearied with the inactivity of camplife, of such a treat-why? God only knows. Is freedom
to him a hated word? Was he fearful thatthe glad cheers
of his men-would tell the foe that the old key-note had
been struck? That they were rising, in defiance of General McClellan, to a true appreciation of the issues involve4? That they were receiving an inspiration which
would lead them to downright victory, a victory that
would leave of slavery nothing but its scars, and shame,
and putrid corpse.




62          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER X.
CAMP BRIGGS, MASS., November 6, 1862.
MY DEAR L.:
We have received orders to report at Worcester. Full
time to leave these tents, through which the winds sweep
bleak and cold. We expected to get off to-day, but did
not, of course. How we will get through the night, I
know not, for most of our bedding has been forwarded
with our stores, to Worcester. The officers are in the
same fix.
On the thirteenth, Governor Andrew reviewed our regiment. He is a short, pursy man, and looks as if he enjoyed being governor. His eye, light gray. or blue, is
really an eye eloquent, capable of expressing tenderness,
scorn, anger, all the emotions. Though corpulent, he
shows that he has an intense soul. Massachusetts was
fortunate in having her gubernatorial chair filled by such
a man as John A. Andrew. He was equal to the crisis.
He walked in front and rear of the regiment, closely scanning the men and their apparel, and then briefly addressed the officers. All I heard was, " Gentlemen, by
a good fortune and the votes of your men, you are now
officers. Be fim, but kind. Remember that each one of
those soldiers is a man and a Massachusetts citizen." God
bless him, the large-minded, warm-hearted, patriot ruler,
and the soldier's untiring friend.
Captain Rennie was presented with a sword, sash and
belt, by the family of the Hon. Z. M. Crane (whose name
he bears), of Dalton. Hon. James B. Crane made the
presentation speech, and added his own token of respect,
in the shape of a handsome Smith and Wesson's revolver.
H. B. Brewster, of whose appointment as quartermaster.




Co. IV.
Lieut. J. E. JUDD.  Capt. BYRON WESTON    Lieut. R. C. TAFT.
Li u.'R G!  ASON.








MASSACHUSEWTS VOLUNTEERS.          63
there is now no doubt, received sword and equipments
from the Housatonic engine company, of which he has
been an active member. At the mess-table to-day, Lieutenant Tucker presented Lieutenant Deming, Co. H,' ahandsome sword, sash and belt, in behalf of his confiding
friends of Sandisfield. -
On Saturday evening, John Mason, Company I, stabbed
Henry Harmon, a respectable farmer of Coltsville, causing his death. It was an unprovoked assault. It seems
he is a deserter from an Albany regiment. So much for
the bounty system. In large cities, where rowdies are
so numerous, this system sweeps theminto the ranks.
Bounty and then desertion is their creed. Death to every
such deserter should be the unvarying sentence.  Talk
about the tyranny of the government-it has not reached
wholesome severity yet. The death-penalty is the only
proper punishment and remedy for desertion. It should
be applied to all captured deserters, whether they desert
here, immediately after receiving the bounty, or when
before the enemy. A small appropriation of powder and
ball, would check the growing disease.
Well, we are about to leave Camp Briggs, which some
gentlemen have purchased for a pleasure park. While
life is spared us, Camp Briggs will be a pleasant remembrance. In the sultry South, perchance in crowded fever
wards, we will think of its surrounding mountains, its bracing air, and deliriously seek its pure, abundant water. We
leave it to practise the lessons there learned, against rebellion; to use our acquired powers for the destruction of
our rebelling brothers. As the time of our departure is at
hand, the camp is crowded with visitors. Partings are
spoken that may be forever. Eyes meet eyes that will
meet no more till " every eye shall see Him," the pierced
one, battles all over, and enduring crowns given to life's
victors. How many of us, soldiers of the Forty-Ninth,
will then find that we have truly " fought a. good fight?"




64          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XI.
CAMP WOOL, WORCESTER, MASS., November 14, 1862.
MY DEAR L.:
Here we are at our new home. My last letter left you
at Camp Briggs, with the regiment under marching orders. Well, they almost mutinied that night, and no
wonder. Blankets gone, wood gone, coffee gone, nearly
every comfort gone, they were not in an enviable plight.
Fences suffered, an old soap-house came down, all for
fuel. Mr. Brewster bought them some candles and coffee, but most of the ranges and cooking utensils, were on
their way to Worcester. The cold night was followed
by a chilly morning. They got off from Pittsfield about
9 A. M., and reached Worcester Junction about 41 P. M.
They were saluted at Dalton and Becket, and at Springfield found coffee for some and cannon for all.  From
Worcester Junction to the camp, a mile, the boys walked
through a snow storm that would have done credit to
January. A colder, fiercer storm, I never experienced.
We began to think leaving Berkshire meant an introduction to hardships. Hot coffee, the soldier's panacea,
bread, beef, and good barracks, renewed our comfort and
cheerfulness. Alas! for the poor guards, who had to
brave that night with no protection but those flimsy,
shoddy overcoats.
The morning came, bringing a bracing air and a clear
sky, and we were all out early surveying the premises.
Albeit we missed the cheerful -appearance of white tents,
and the unpainted barracks looked gloomy and forbidding, our survey impressed us that the removal was for
our good.
As you see by the heading of this letter, our home is




/1
v ~~~~~~~~    Ii~~~~~~~
G-V
Lieut.-Col. S. B SUMNER.
Mfajor C. T. PLUNKETT








MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          65
named "Camp Wool."  Colonel G. H. Ward, is commandant of the post, now consisting of the Forty-ninth
and Fifty-first Massachusetts Volunteers. Like our own
colonel, he has given a piece of one leg to the service, but
Palmer has supplied him with so good a substitute that
you might think him slightly troubled with the rheumatism,
but would hardly suppose he was the possessor of a cork
leg. The Fifty-first occupies for barracks, an old pistol
factory, while, more fortunate, we take possession of barracks that are barracks, a separate one for each company.
Here, the men can stand erect, and walk about under a
roof, or sit by a cosy fire. The berths are admirably arranged, each accommodating two persons, and are two or
three feet from the floor, obviating the necessity of making our bed-clothes by night, shoe-rugs by day. The
barracks are new; some of them have never been occupied. Two frame buildings serve for the line officers'
quarters, while in rear of them are head-quarters, the present home of the field and staff. Back of the barracks
we have a fine parade ground.
On Monday, the tenth instant, there was a formal election of field officers. For colonel, Captain Bartlett received all the votes cast: for lieutenant-colonel, Captain
Sumner received twenty-seven votes, and Captain Plunkett, three; for major, Captain Plunkett got thirteen,
and Captain Morey, twelve votes. So Co. C loses its
captain, and Captain Morey loses the majorship. A feeling prevailed in the regiment, that he was too severe a
disciplinarian, and hence his defeat. There was no wirepulling, no chicanery on the part of Major Plunkett. All
was manly and above board. H. -B. Brewster is quartermaster, with the rank of first lieutenant. B. C. Mifflin,
of Boston, is adjutant. He also ranks as first lieutenant.
I-e is a personal friend and college associate of Colonel
Bartlett. He is quite young, only twenty-two years of
age, and fresh from Harvard. Though a member of the
Boston Rifles, he has not had much military experience.




66           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
The colonel told the officers before election, that, if elected, he would select his adjutant from out of Berkshire.
Lieutenant Noble goes back to Co. B. He made a capital adjutant. His successor will need to be wide awvake
if he prove himself his superior.  Dr. F. Winsor, from
Rainsford Island Hospital, is our surgeon. He is a quiet,
reserved man, very much of a gentleman, and highly spoken of. His rank and pay are that of a major. The assistant surgeon is Dr. A. R. Rice, of Springfield. He
went out with the First Massachusetts in the same capacity. He is young, but twenty-two years of age, and
young in his ways, but is regarded, as I believe truly,
judging phrenologically, as a very superior disciple of
Esculapius.  With rare modesty, he refused the position
of chief surgeon.  He ranks as first lieutenant.  The surgeons are appointed by the governor on recommendation
of the surgeon-general.
The non-commissioned staff are, and rank as follows:
Hospital steward, A. J. Morey, of Co. F, (son of Captain
Morey); sergeant major, H. J. Wylie, of Co. A; quarter
master sergeant, G. E. Howard, of Co. A, commissary
sergeant, H. H. Northup, of Co. C; drum major, E. N.
Merry, of the same company; while A. M. Brainerd, of
Co. D, and myself, respectively fill the post of adjutant,
and quartermaster's clerk.
We brought from Camp Briggs, nine hundred and sixty-two men. Our average height is five feet eight inches; our average age twenty-five years, four months and
eighteen days. The men enlisted are credited to the following towns:
Pittsfield................ 140 West Stockbridge........  22
Barrington. 82 Savoy...................   18
Sheffield................. 75 Windsor.............   17
Adam        s................. 74 Tyringham............... 16
Lee......................  55 Washington............. 15
New Marlboro;.......... 41 Dalton................... 14
Sandisfield............... 40 Florida.................. 12




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.                     67
Lenox................... 37  Richmond................ 12
Stockbridge...........  34 Hancock..........   10
Cheshire............  32 Clarksburgh..............   9
Lanesboro...........  31 Mount Washington.......   9
Egremont................  29 Alford...................   8
Williamstown.............  27 Peru.....................   6
Hinsdale................  25 New Ashford.........   4
Becket...................  24  Chicopee..            2
Otis..............  23  Worcester................   1
Monterey...........  23
The average bounty paid by the towns is one hundred
dollars. In our ranks we have four hundred and seventythree farmers.




68         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XII.
CAMP WooqI WORCESTER, MASS. (Tanksgiving Day,)
November 28, 1862.
My DEAR L.:
It seems decided now that we join Banks's expedition,
wherefor, we know not. That is one war-secret that has
been kept. We, Massachusetts men, are glad to go with
Massachusetts' favorite, willing to "go it blind" with
him above any other general. People smiled when the
call for seventy-five thousand men was made in April
1861, because Banks declared it should have been for
half a million. While governor of this state, he foresaw
this rebellion, and prepared Massachusetts to meet it by
reorganizing its militia system. So far-seeing a man will
lead us safely on to victory. Last Tuesday, guns and
equipments came. They are Enfield rifle-muskets, fresh
from England, having never been inspected since their
arrival. Since thus armed, the men enjoy drilling more,
and also find a great addition to their labor, for it is no
light task to keep a gun in' perfect order. Proudly we
carry them now, and proudly we hope ever to carry them;
but often, O how wearily.
Our shoddy black overcoats have given place to substantial light blues, in which the ladies of Worcester are
putting pockets, thus adding to our comfort, and enlivening us by their presence. The people of Worcester do all
they can to make us feel at home. The Messrs. Goddard,
with the pecuniary help of some of our field officers, furnished us with chickens, turkeys, and other appendages
of a Thanksgiving dinner, to many of us a well-timed
kindness, and one appreciated even by those whose
thoughtful friends at home had anticipated their wants.




"h~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~N
i~~~~~~i
Asst. Sur'geon,             Surg~eon,            Adjutant,
A. R. RICE.              F. W'IN~SOR.       BENJ. C. MIFFLIN-.. B. BREWSTER, Quartermaster.








MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           69
The field aid staff were duly mustered in on the 19th
instant, and there is some talk of mustering us as a
regiment to serve nine months from the date of their
muster. I hope not, for difficulty will surely spring from
it. Some declare they will not leave the State until paid
off.
The colonel has returned from Boston with a fiery little
horse and a wooden leg, on which (the leg I mean) he
walks rather unsteadily.  His appearance before the
troops on horseback, seemingly a whole man, drew forth
hearty spontaneous cheers, not ungrateful to any man
who knows that the confidence of his men is a sure guaranty of success. The lieutenant-colonel and our tall
major, on appearing in their handsome uniforms, were
also received with cheers. We have now, not only a
"tall major," the major, and Major Winsor, the surgeon,
and a sergeant-major, and a drum-major, but we have
also a " little major."  A boy about seven years of age,
friendless and homeless, came into camp, and has been
adopted by Co. A as "the child of the regiment."
In consequence of the promotion of Captain Sumner,
another election was held on the 17th for officers of Co.
D. Second Lieutenant Chaffee received forty-seven votes,
and First Lieutenant Tucker, thirty-two. This. result making a vacancy in the post of second lieutenant, H. C.
Morey was elected to fill that vacancy, he receiving
forty-seven votes, Sergeant Siggins twenty-eight, and
R. More six. Lieutenant Morey is active, young, and
popular; but, until men have been in service, they will
elect the most popular rather than the most efficient.:
C. Hebner, Esq., of Lee, has given Lieutenant Smith, Co.
H, one hundred dollars in trust for the benefit of the members of that company.  This unostentatious act is its
own reward.
Last Sunday night, we had an: evidence that there is a
mixture of.:fiendishness in our regiment. J. D.' Snooks,
of Co. G, who was blessed, or cursed, as it seemed, with




7'0        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NI~NTH
a five dollar note, visited " the grove," and while there,
hearing approaching footsteps, turned round only to be
knocked down with a heavy stick, which was followed
by a.stab, penetrating to his breast-bone, evidently intended to be a deathly blow, to prevent detection. When the
poor fellow, maimed and bleeding, returned to his barrack,
he found that he had been robbed of his. money in the
unconsciousness following the assault. The same note
was later in the evening offered to the sutler to be changed, yet we have not been able to discover the villain.
We have an addition to our mess. A. N. Cowles, of
Co. E, who is to have charge of Ordnance and Ordnance
stores. The addition is an improvement, for a rare,
quaint, shrewd, intelligent, laughter-provoking fellow is
he. The members of his company have presented their
orderly, M. H. Tuttle, with a sword and sash, thus showing their intelligent appreciation of merit.
This, I suppose, is our last day in Massachusetts for a
season, perchance for ever. We will not all come back.
Some will never leave. Death has commenced his inroads. Allen H. Wheerer, of Co. B, from West Stockbridge, died at home of fever, on the 15th instant.
Taken sick at Camp Briggs, his military career was
short. Cut down in early manhood, being only twentythree years of age, the farmer boy has closed the battlelife and gained, I hope, the victor's crown. I knew him
not, but he is spoken of as a nice, steady man. Yesterday, Wells B. Morgan, also of Co. B, from Richmond,
died of fever. His wife came here to minister to him,
and he was privileged to die at home, surrounded by
wife and children. He was a farmer, thirty-five.years of
age, and being a good soldier, we can illy spare -him;
but the Lord of Hosts has signed his discharge, and we
must submit. On the same day, at his home in Lenox,
died John Godson, of Co. D.  Consumption cut him
down in his twenty-second year, leaving a young widow
to mourn him, without the solace of that glory that gath.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          71
ers round the dead who fall on victorious battle-fields.
His Irish life was offered for his adopted land, but the
greedy monster, Death, too impatient to wait for the
hour of conflict, laid him low before he had an opportunity to prove on thewell-fought field his right to the proud
appellation of American citizen. So, in the graves, they
fraternize, and we now go forth, armed and equipped,
not knowing what awaiteth us, but convinced, alas! too
well, that the recurring thanksgiving will show many a
desolate home in Berkshire.




7'2        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NNTH
LETTER XIII.
FRANKIIN STREET BARRACKS, NEW YORK, t
December 4, 4-1862.
MY DEAR L.:
Here we are in the Western Babylon. On Friday,
about 2 P. M., we left Worcester for New York, via
railroad to Norwich, Conn., and steamer Commodore to
this city, which we reached on Saturday, 4 A. M., having
spent the night on the boat. All along the road from
Worcester to Norwich, the people greeted us enthusiastically, making us feel we were indeed of some importance to them. We marched up to the Park, where we relieved ourselves of our traps, and under the guidance of
Colonel Frank Howe, proceeded to partake of a comfortable breakfast. Now, that I can compare our boys with
those of other regiments, I am proud of them. Physically, so Colonel Howe says, we have never been surpassed by any regiment he had seen, and never equalled save
by a regiment from Maine. Until I got into the work
of comparison, I was not aware that there were so very
many fine faces among us. In all our thousand, you can
see few evidences of dissipation, and none of real rowdyism. Never, never can we be grateful enough to soldiers. Here are men loving homes, wives and children,
going forth to do what? If need be, to die for a country's
weal, for a world's hope. They go to meet privation,
sickness, suffering, mutilation, death, as our representatives, bearing in their own bodies wounds that must
otherwise fall on us and our nation's life; making their
breasts a barrier- to the wave of fire that threatens to
sweep over the whole land, a wave'that will ingulf many
of them, winning'for them nameless graves and places




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           73
among the " unnamed demi-gods" of earth. War! battle!
how grand they are! How they ring sonorously through
the chambers of the soul mingling with the symphony of
angels, for it is only through wars men are made angels;
and though guns are in our hands, and bayonets at
our sides, we can yet say, "the weapons of our warfare
are not carnal, but spiritual, mighty through God to the
pulling down of the strongholds of iniquity." No longer
does brute force fight; this is a war of ideas, in which
carnal weapons only impress or obliterate great moral
truths, the noble battling for which makes men heroes,
and sinners angels.
Our colonel, on his new black horse, with crutch at his
back, is, of course, an object of great interest. I send
you an article written by one who has ever manifested an
affectionate concern for our regiment.
CORRESPONDENCE OF THE SUN.
"NEW YonK, November 29, 1862.
" To the Editor of the Pittsfield Sun:
"At an early hour this morning, I heard that the last of
our Berkshire regiments, the Forty-ninth, had just arrived from Worcester, and were waiting in the City Hall
Park till their quarters should be assigned to them.
Hurrying thither, I soon found the familiar faces which'I had so often greeted at Camp Briggs, and in all of
whom I had learned to feel a personal interest. Our attention was first arrested by a crowd of persons gathered
round a carriage, which, on approaching it more nearly,
we found to contain, as its centre of attraction, the youthful form and face of Col. Bartlett. Anon a deep-toned
voice rang out clear and sonorous above the din of Broadway, giving the word of command for the regiment to
march, and almost like magic the line was formed, and
the measured tread of nearly a thousand men kept time
as they proceeded to their temporary quarters at the
4




74         LIFE WITH.THE FORTY-NINTH
Franklin Street Barracks. We kept our station till the
last of the blue coats had marched by us, and an ambulance with a few sick men had gone to the Hospital near
by, where woman's hand and woman's tact would care
tenderly for them, while such care should be needed. As
we passed out of the Park after the regiment, we heard
many a word of compliment given, with great apparent
sincerity and warmth, for the healthy and cheerful looking men, for the officers generally, and for the' tall Major' in particular. One only of the regiment deserved no
compliment, and would have heeded little, if he had received one. Stretched in a somewhat dilapidated hired
carriage, and its only occupant, but'so spread out as to
take up all its room, was the one drunken man amongst
the soldiers.
"We followed the troops up Broadway, till they halted
at the corner of Franklin Street, and a portion of them
turned down it and began to enter the building prepared
for their reception-a large warehouse capable of accommodating fifteen hundred to two thousand men. Drawing up in our carriage at the curb, till they had all safely
passed, I could not but feel proud-of the bearing of the
men; though the rain was now falling heavily, and had
done so for an hour or more, there were no sullen or discontented faces amongst them, but jokes and laughter
passed from one to another on every side.  Brave I
know'these men to be-I know it after having watched
*and read their faces, and seen the determination and sincerity written there; and while these elements remain,
who shall dare to doubt the final issue of this conflict, in
spite of blunders and mismanagement in high places?
"It is not yet known how long the regiment will remain
in New York, but their departure will not probably be
delayed beyond next week, and then farewell to the last
of our Berkshire regiments till we hear' of them again
amid the din of battle-and where and when will that be?
"So pass ye on, brave and gallant Forty-ninth, strong




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           75
reapers for the harvest-field of war. So pass ye to your
work. And oh! may God speed the return to your triumphant harvest home; but ere that time shall come,
how many of your number, now. gone forth in the flush
of youth and strength, shall themselves be gathered into
the already overflowing granaries of Death? Who shall
tell? In the mystery of the future let it rest. In faith ye
have gone forth-in faith we wait your return.
"S. A. M."
Our " tall major" attracts much attention. Some of the
papers grow merry over his size, and ludicrously detail
his proportions, while the Express, true to its nature,
makes game of our colonel's loss. More patriotism lies
in that grave near Yorktown where rests that shattered leg, than ever was felt by the whole editorial corps
of the Express. The crutch of our colonel is mightier
than the eloquence of a whole regiment of Brookses.
Lieutenant Tucker, of Co. D, leaves us to take a position
on General Andrew's staff.
Our barracks are roomy and gloomy, and our food
scarce equal to our desires, but we are tolerably well contented, expecting to stay here but a few days ere leaving
for Dixie. In squads, under the charge of officers, we
wander round the city, attend churches, and visit places
of amusements. A great treat this to many who were
never before in this heart of the western world, a treat
rather provoking, considering that the non-arrival of the
paymaster puts it out of the power of many to treat
themselves. It seems almost like starving before a full
table, to see the appetizing delicacies of New York, and yet
be compelled to dine in that dark cellar; on army rations.
Bad for us, we may think, but good for our families, we
all say. Empty pockets enable us to be proof against
all the snares of Sodom. Having often said the Lord's
Prayer, we now find it answered in that, He "gives us
our daily bread; leads us not in temptation, and delivers
us from evil."




76         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
The other afternoon, rich in all their arms and in full
dress, our regiment marched up Broadway.  "Eyes
front," requiring each man to look neither to the right nor
to the left, we recognized then as a" " custom more honored in the breach than in the observance." We certainly
presented a creditable appearance.  Wealth was all
around us, but how trifling it seemed in comparison
with the wealth of sinews and of patriotic hopes embodied
in that small portion of a nation's guard. I send you an
extract from the Home Journal as a part of our history:
"A COLONEL ARMED WITH A CRUTCH.
"The'sight' of the afternoon, for the youthful' Fashion,' beau and belle, who were in promenade, was a Massachusetts regiment, which, in its transit through the
city, on its way to the war, had taken occasion to make
a parade march through the expanding length of this our
Avenue of wealth. Our own chief object of interest,
however, was the colonel in command, armed, as we
above mentioned, with the very unaccustomed weapon
of a crutch!
" The colonel (whose name was FRANK BARTLETTr, if we
were rightly informed) was mounted on a Vermont horse
with shaggy brown mane and fetlocks, an animal that
looked as sensible in the face as he was lithe of limb-a
most capital friend for a soldier to take with him to the
wars. The equipments, as well as the limbs of the rider,
were apparently all complete, each long boot with its
spur riding gracefully in its stirrup. Pistols and sword
were in their places. At the horseman's back, however,
poised like the long spear at the back of the lancerswung the strange implement which told the story, a
long crutch with velvet handle, betraying the wooden
leg for which it stood ready to do service. The limb
was lost (we were told) at the battle of Bull Run; and,
with the wounds of his amputation healed, the heroic soldier was now returning to active duty, leading his regi



IMASSACHUSETS VOLUNTEERS.          77
ment to the field with an alacrity that was little like a
cripple! He rode up and down the line, in fact, with the
confidence and ease of a fine horseman-the wooden leg
having, at any rate, no limp in its equitation!
" We were pleased with the physiognomy of the wounded colonel. His head was well set upon an unusually
slight frame, and his features were of the most intellectual cast, pale and thin. He had the sandy hair and blue
eye of New England, and, under the slouched hat of the
cavalry officer, he was a picturesque type of the intelligent energy which the sculptor would strive to express in
modelling'the Yankee.'" To him and his brother officers (an uncommonly fine-looking set of fellows!) we would
insure a bright welcome, if they should come this way
in'returning from the war.'
"On the regiment itself, as they stood in long line, with
their winter accoutrement of blue great-coat and slouched
hat, knapsack, and weapon-on their Massachusetts faces,
that is to say —we looked with great interest! We saw
the qualities of which we knew well the depth and mettle.
They looked hardy and honest, quiet and cool. For endurance in the campaign of hardship that is before them
-for the weariness and deprivation as well as for the
fighting when it comes-they are the stuff!  We gave
them, with a moist eye, the' God bless you!' of a brother countryman, as they went from us to their'forward
march.'"




'18       BLIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XIV.'CUAMP BANKS, LONG IsLAND, N. Y., December 22, 1862.
My DEAR L.:
Instead of turning up amid the orange groves of Louisiana as expected, we find ourselves encamped on an old
race-course, and a precious, long-to-be-remembered time
we have had of it. On the fourth instant, we marched
round Broadway to Peck Slip, there crossed East River,
and on foot wended our way, ten miles in all, through
the mud to this delectable place. Cold and hungry, we
reached here at nightfall, and fell to work building our
little village, which accomplished, we adjourned to a celebrated New York restaurant for supper. Ye Gods! such
a supper for hungry men! The gentlemanly proprietors
promised our kind Uncle Samuel that they would take
care of each man for the munificent sum of twenty-one
cents per day, providing all known and unknown luxuries, waiters, cooks, &c., &c. Fresh from the comforts
of home, and in the very heart of plenty,: we bore it
awhile, but finding being kept at twenty-one cents a day,
meant a mere keeping from starvation, some grumbling
arose, and as the cold and discomfort increased, the grumbling began to sound like threats and curses, and no one
could well tell what would have happened had not the contractors promised us a good hash and boiled breakfast for
Sunday morning. Hope carried us through the Saturday
night, when waking early at the bidding of Jack Frost,
not waiting for Baker, of Co. H, our chief bugler, to sound
the reveille, with cup, plate, and knife in hand, we repaired to the cook shop. There was some delay there,
but, knowing an extra meal was in preparation, we wait



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          79
ed patiently till the welcome signal came. Into the halfdark shop we went. There was the smoking hash the
savory vegetables, and the steaming coffee, a pleasing prospect for cold and hungry patriots. Rapidly the hash disappeared, the boiled vegetables followed, till some one
sooner satiated than the rest, began to, analyze the sumptuous feast. As the light increased, others joined in the
analysis.  "What's the matter, Jim?"  "What's the
matter? look here!" and lo! a turnip and then a potatoe
each having a hole in it, showing how contractors make
candle-sticks. "Eugh! let me out, I can't stand this,"
and Frank not being able to get out, made a speedy deposit of the rich food on the floor and surroundings.
"Frank, what in thunder ails you?"  "Rats!" was the
faint ejaculation, as Frank gave up, rather ungratefully,
the remainder of his breakfast. And rats it was, or rather had been, for our hash-tub had been uncovered over
night, and the rats had left unmistakable evidences that
they had eaten more than they could conveniently carry
away, and so dropped a little to season what remained.
Well, there was an uproar that seemed to postpone the
observance of the Sabbath, to " a more convenient season." Still, hungry men came rushing in from other
regiments, who, on hearing of their breakfast, fell to demolishing every thing that could be demolished, seeking
for the contractors to demolish them. Fortunately they.
saved their hash. Lynch law is but the primitive administration of justice, or the grappling with an emergency
or atrocity not within-the ken of the statute.  Ministers
Qf vengeance we are by the call of our country, then we
only anticipated our time. Ye dear stay-at-home patriots
rising from warm beds to partake of healthy inviting food,
don't make any long prayers to stay the fearful spread of
army-demoralization, -if we did " gut the cook-shop."
Bastile, when taken, was destroyed and the world applauded; so applaud ye that your sons will not endure
shameful oppression, whether in New York or Louisiana.




80         LIFE VrITH THE FORTY-HQINT
The fire started, it did not burn out without extending
its ravages. Sleeping in shelter tents, tents five feet long,
four high, and without ends, the Fifty-third were rife for
fun or riot, and fancying that their sutler had aggrieved
them, they made short work with his shanty, and appropriated his goods without stopping to inquire their respective prices. In connection with others, they then visited
the shop of our sutler, who had not aggrieved them, and
injured him to the tune of a thousand dollars, more or
less. This was not righteous indignation, but robbery.
A building, containing a large quantity of powder, was
partially destroyed, and the boards carried off for fuel.
I don't blame them for that. Put soldiers, half starved,
among loyal citizens, in canvas tents, give them each
one shoddy blanket, add a fierce wind with the mercury
near zero, and you have all the ingredients of a riot. Such
was our condition on Saturday and Sunday, the sixth and
seventh of December, 1862. I contend we had a right
to run the government in debt for all the loose boards
we could find. That it was a wild, high, warming frolic,
instead of a riot, proclaims the praise of Massachusetts
soldiers. General Andrew sent an officer down to our
camp that Sunday morning, but could find few of our officers about, and, though it may have shown a laxity in
discipline, Major Plunkett, who was in command, acted
as a man of humanity, in giving furloughs tod-nearly all
till sundown, that we might care for ourselves. We were
no better off, having taken up our quarters in a deserted
horse-shed, and because there were eight tons of powder
in the adjoining shed, we were not allowed to have a
fire. Making up our minds that it were pleasanter to be
blown up than to freeze, fire we had, in defiance of orders
to the contrary. In the horse-shed we are still existing,
while the boys still endure their tents. As we now subsist them, they do not complain of their food, and having
erected large cook-houses, they can occasionally get
warmed through. Why we were ever removed from




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          81
Worcester to this hole, we know not. Governor Andrew did all he could to keep us in the state till we should
start South.
One of our men was murdered since I last wrote you.
His name was William Stelfax, of Co. C, from Pittsfield.
He was an Englishman by birth, twenty-five years of age,
and leaves a family. Though wild, he was a good soldier and added much to our amusement. On that bitterly cold Sunday, December 7th, he went to one of the
camps near East New York, and on his return, stopped
at a saloon kept by a German named Schellein. On leaving, Stelfax bought and paid for a pint of whiskey, which,
on being put into his canteen, he asserted was only half
a pint. Schellein gave him the lie and knocked him down.
Several Germans were in the shop, who sided with the
landlord, and who with slung shots again knocked Stelfax
down and also his comrade McDonald, of Co. C. They
left, but Stelfax returned and kicked the door, when four
muskets were fired, one discharge entering Stelfax's back,
causing his death in a few minutes. When this murder
became known at. the surrounding camps, the soldiers
came, sacked the house, placed a rope to a tree intending
to hang Schellein if they found him, but not finding him
set the building on fire, burning it to the ground. I am
happy to say, that the Forty-ninth had no part in burning either the cook shops or this house. Major Plunkett was there and searched the house for the murderer,
and finding he could not prevent its destruction, ordered
his men to leave, and they did so, though, if human, they
did not look on the fire with much disapprobation. On
that same Sunday, John Mallally, of Co. C, lost a leg bybeing run over by the cars.
Near two hundred of our regiment, with many officers,
are doing provost duty in New York, or, in other words,
arresting deserters. In doing this work, they meet interest and danger, and having good quarters, they prefer it
to the discomforts and monotony of camp, Lieqtenant
4*




82         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTII
Kniffin of Co. B, is assistant provost-marshal. Of course
he does well in that position. Doing well with him is
the rule, not the exception.  On the 6th instant, Co. C
held an election, and Lieutenant Foster was chosen captain, and Second Lieutenant Wells, first lieutenant, and
Fourth Sergeant George R. Lingenfelter, second lieutenant.
There must have been nearly thirty thousand troops
here on Long Island when we came here. Measles are
making sad work with the Maine boys, and we have forty-seven on our -sick list, but no 4dangerous cases. Colonel Bartlett is now commandant of the post. Our official title is "Banks's remainder expedition."  Expedition to where, we can only guess at. Texas, we all say,
and hope. Some of our neighbors have already sailed
with Banks, and we would be glad to follow them tomorrow. General VWool expresses his determination to
keep us here as provost-guards, saying he can rely on us.
If so, here will mean Troy, Albany, all over his department. While this is complimentary to us, we hope General Andrew will come off conqueror, and take us with
him to Dixie as his body-guard, as he says he will do. So,
the two generals must fight it out.
Quite a number of us have been to hear Beecher. Of
course we were interested. He is greater in the pulpit
than on the platform. Perchance, because in the former
he is less cramped by notes. He is a provoking character. You have to call him an orator, though he violates
nearly all the rules of oratory. His gesticulations are
wild, and scarcely ever in harmony with his subject.
Something there must be defective in his oratory. A
truly eloquent man will not always make ineloquent gesture. The fact is, Beecher is not eloquent. There is
much vehemence about him, and but little intensity;
much fine word-painting, much arousing speech, but little
awakening the passions of the human heart. He is singularly devoid of pathos. He can move his audience to




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.             83
tears of exultation or indignation, but he rarely touches
the deeper emotions of their souls. I say he is greater
in the pulpit than on the platform; but in the former he is
not the great preacher, only the greater, because less restrained, lecturer. He is more esthetic than emotional.
He defends the right, however unpopular, because it is
right; and his nature is so healthy, that he detects wrong
with a fine instinct, and is so enamored of moral beauty,
that he sees its opposite only to shrink from it. Though
he believes in the grand doctrines of Christianity, he appears to me more the moral than the Christian reformer.
He does not rush into the arena dealing his heavy blows
against sin, shouting, "The love of Christ constraineth
me," but leaves the impression that he is champion of
Humanitarianism rather than of Christianity. A great,
benevolent, useful man, I imagine his inner life would show
a strange conflict between orthodoxy and heterodoxy; a
holding to Christ as a beautiful, lovable character, an introducer of men into the purer activities of heaven, rather
than as, primarily, the Saviour of sinners from the dainnation of hell. A bold man is Beecher, but he lacks the
courage to tell the world that because slavery and intemperance are peopling the pit of woe, he throws himself against them. I did not intend an analysis of the
foeiemost preacher in the land, but let it go. Hearing
him was quite an event in our war life, and has furnished
us with something to talk over. Crowds of soldiers were
there, and if you want to appreciate in some degree the
honor of a soldier's position, just put on an army overcoat and cap, and go to Plymouth Church. You will be
treated as one of the defenders of a free gospel. At the
close of the evening service, Mr. Beecher married an officer of a Maine regiment to the lady of his choice. His
remarks were very appropriate; and to us soldiers, the
whole affair was very solemn and impressive. She has,
at least, secured, if not a husband's care, a right to bear
his name and to mourn for him; and, if sorrow too great




84         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
for concealment should visit her, the privileges of a respected grief.
Companies used to range in alphabetical order, but now
they stand according to the rank of their respective commanders. Captain Weller holds the right, the post of
honor, as senior captain. Captain Garlick the left, as
second in honor, and Captain Train the centre, as third in
rank. His is the color company. Rank and honor seem
to go according to priority of commissions. Commencing
at the right, we thus stand: A, II, F, D, E, I, G, C, K,
B, the number of the company corresponding with its
position in the battalion, while the number of the captain
accords with the date of his commission.
Perchance you would like to know the grades of pay,
as well as the grades of rank; the following table will
give you all needed information. It may be well to advise you, that while the government supplies "enlisted
men" with food, clothing, and medical attendance in addition to their pay, the officers are obliged to feed, clothe,
and equip themselves. If sick, they have a right to the
attendance of the surgeon, but not to a place in the hospital without pay. They are usually charged seventy-five
cents per day,'but, I apprehend, charging is the exception, not the rule. Considering that the government allows each of them one dollar and twenty cents per day
for subsistence, this is not a hard rule.
Captains or commanders of companies are allotwed $10
per month each for the responsibility of clothing, arms,
and accoutrements.
It is presumed, that where officers have no servants or
horses, they do not draw pay for them. Facts show this
to be a very violent presumption.




MASSACHUSElTS VOLUNTEERS.                                     85
OFFICES oF INFANTRY.'           U  d i 0     5  d
$ cts..    cts...     $ ct.       $ ct      cts.
$ cts.      $ cts.       $  ta.      $ cta. $  cts.
Colonel........................ 95 00  6   54 00  3   24 00  2   49 00 222 00
Lieutenant-Colonel............ 80 00  5   45 00  3   24 00  2   49 00 198 00
Major.........................   0 00  4   86 00  3   24 00  2   49 00179 00
Surgeon....................... 80 00  4   36 00  3   24 00  2   49 00 189 00
Captain....................... 60 00  4   86 00........  1   24 50 120 50
First Lieutenant...............  50 00  4   86 00........  1   24 50 110 50
Second Lieutenant.............   45 00  4   36 00........  1   24 50 105 50
Adjutant, in addition to pay, etc.,
of Lieutenant................   10 00........   1    8 00  1   24 50 18 00
Quartermaster, in addition to
pay, etc., of Lieutenant.......  10 00..           2   16 00  1   24 50 26 00
Assistant Surgeon.............. 58 83  4   36 00  1    8 00  1   24 50 121 83
Hospital Steward............... 30 00..............
Sergeant-Major................. 21 00...........................
Quartermaster Sergeant......... 21 00.
Commissary Sergeant........... 21 00.
First Sergeant..................  20 00.........
Sergeant...................... 17 00.
Corporal...................... 13 00..
Private.........................  13 00................
Principal Musician.............  21 00
Musician....................... 18 00.




86         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XV.
LONG ISLAND, N. Y., January 6, 1863.
My DEAR L.:
Here we are at Snedeker's barracks, which are nothing more than stables and barns fitted up for soldiers.
They are a decided improvement on the canvas tents in
which we shivered from December 4th to 23d.  True,
we have but about two hundred feet square we can call
our own, which, in this rainy weather, is a mud puddle,
and our bed-rooms are stalls, and fires are. not allowed,
yet we are quite cosy. We can keep warm, for our stables are tight and we have plenty of good straw, and if
vermin visit us, why the extra scratching will render
flesh-brushes superfluous. The barracks were cleansed
before we took possession, but our predecessors, thinking
they could find a new stock on ship-board, left that,
which we could have dispensed with, having some of our
own on hand-lice. Fine combs, frequent washings and
unguentum, preserve to us a doubtful victory. Our victories might be permanent, had we not some comrades
who never raise the cry of extermination. Thicker cuticles or the force of old habits prevent them seeing that
"cleanliness is hext to godliness."  This is one of the
drawbacks to the pleasure of soldiering. Hunting rebels and traitors through forests and swamps, killing them
for the sake of humanity, has something poetic and inspiring about it, but hunting seams and hems of garments
for "crummies" and showing them no quarter, is an occupation, that the concentrated genius of all the poets
from Homer down to Tennyson cannot invest with the
beautiful. Some say, all animal life will have a renewed
and glorified existence in Heaven. If so, "I pray thee




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            87
have me excused." Our boys generally keep clean, -but
there are enough lovers of dirt among us to secure
us an unbroken succession of vermin. You know how
brief your ablutions in a cold room, and washing in winter time at the out-door pump is not apt to result in perfect cleanliness. Did you ever wash a woolen shirt in
cold water, while standing in the cold? If so, enough's
said; you can understand why some soldiers do not
change their under-clothes more than once a month.
Do not imagine that filthiness is one of our vices.,,Far
from it. Though not as clean as we would be at home,
yet, as a regiment, we are " Excelsior."  Dr. Winsor is
active and conscientious in the discharge of his duties,
and sees to it that we keep ourselves in passable order,
and every man must appear at dress parade neat and
clean, yet after all, there will be some who, keeping the
outside of the platter clean, leave the inside corrupt and
defiled. Compared with sickness, wounds, death, this
familiarity with dirt is a small thing, but judge ye (and
there are many men in this regiment who have been nurtured more delicately than yourself) by it some of the
minor sacrifices of a soldier's life. And that life is full
of such minor sacrifices, rendered bearable only-by considering them as necessary to a nation's preservation.
We must go to bed and rise at stated hours; we may
not know the luxury of a stool, to say nothing of an arm
chair, with the accompaniments of a pipe, a book, a blazing fire, a shaded lamp, and a congenial companion,
whose silence is more eloquent and sympathetic than the
words of many men.  To live " cribbed, cabined, confined," not able to leave our pen without soliciting permission from a temporary superior; to eat food poorly
cooked, with beans, meat, rice, molasses, potatoes, all on
the same plate, making us half believe our friends at home
have sent us here as a punishment for the over particularness of the past; to- obey unansweringly men, somle
of whom we know are our inferiors in everything but




88          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
rank; to hear, with no chance of escape, profanity and
obscenity; to lie on straw in a close, unventilated stall,
(soldiers are sworn enemies to ventilation, especially
those from the country); to find to-day's duties so similar to those of yesterday that it is difficult to recall the
day of the week; to realize that you are mentally stagnating, with scarce a book to stir up the pool of thought;
to find ambition and energy dying.before monotony and
ennui; these and a hundred other things are the unknown, unappreciated sacrifices, every intelligent soldier
is called on to make. More strictly do these remarks apply to troops in winter quarters. Save a short morning.drill and dress parade, we have no exercise. Is it any
wonder that our muscles become flabby, and with appetites unnaturally keen, our digestion is impaired, so that
the soldier's foe, Diarrhcea, even -now visits us? Our
mental natures being in abeyance, the physical becomes
more arrogant, so that even our meals are the great episodes of the day. You would be surprised at our appetites, and seeing us drink from two to three quarts of coffee
or tea daily, would wonder that we are not all on the
sick list. Do not think we complain. No, we receive
these things as a necessary prelude to the sacred duties
of battle, yet wish it otherwise, believing that the prelude
weakens us. Troops would learn the tactics of *ar sooner, would carry with them more enthusiasm, could they
go at once from their rendezvous into active service. Two
weeks of drilling near an enemy would have advanced
us as much as we have advanced in all these months, and
added greatly to our enthusiasm. We are mental, if machines, and the dry routine of barrack-life is using the
machines without any oil.
A friend of J. E., Sergeant of Co. F, has presented us
with an army library of one hundred volumes. The
books are such as are published by the American Tract
Society, Boston, the reading of which will tend to keep
fresh the solemn earnestness that moved many of us to




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           89
enlist. I used to denounce card playing, not as a sin
per se, but as a foolish wasting of time, and as leading to
many vices. I do not denounce it now, and can only
wish it was never more abused than by our boys.
Give a man friends, books, to make pleasant and profitable his leisure hours, and card playing is only less silly
than dancing. What shall our poor fellows do?  Almost nothing to do or to read, how shall they spend their
time? If John Wesley was right in declaring it not expedient to converse on religious subjects more than an
hour at a time, howr can we expect a crowd of men, many
of whom are irreligious, to spend their hours profitably
in conversation? Soldiers are really overgrown children,.
and need playthings, amusements. Certes, I have never
had the heart to deny them the pleasure, the mental excitement of cards. Very seldom do you see any card
playing on Sundays, though in the absence of religious
services, and of the usual drill, it is the longest day of the
week. Colonel Bartlett has occasionally read in our
presence the Episcopal service, but as he has been for
some time engaged in New York as acting BrigadierGeneral, those occasions have been very rare. I am
pained to confess that profanity is increasing among us.
It does not seem to result from increased wickedness so
much as from forgetfulness of God. I have asked some
of the most recklessly profane, if they were in the habit
of swearing at home. Most of them said they were not.
It is a fungus of camp soil. The colonel has endeavored
to put a stop to it, and had the army regulations relative
to it, read on dress parade. For each oath, an officer is
fined one dollar, and cashiering is the threatened penalty
of continued profanity; while one-sixth of a dollar is for
feited by a private for each offence, and some kind of corporeal punishment for a continuation of the habit. t We
were all sworn into the service, and if these penalties
should be enforced, a good many would swear themselves out, and go home pe!miless. I am glad that the




90         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
army regulations read as they do-it is something to be
right, though in naught but books-but how to enforce
them is the question. A profane officer will not bring
charges, and an unenviable life that private would have
who should assume to be the Mentor of the regiment. Certainly, he would require to be put on detached and extra
_duty too, and if he should receive a moiety of the fines,
would find his position the most lucrative in the service.
Hiring men to play the spy, the informer, will not rectify
this evil. Nothing but religious truth pressed upon the
heart, backed by the example of officers, will remove this
fearful, vengeance-inviting reproach. If you imagine that
profanity is the general rule, you will wrong both officers
and men. Many have not yet forgotten the teachings of
earlier days. Quite a party of us were talking on this subject the other evening, and we counted up the officers who
were not known to be profane. Quite a respectable majority appeared on the side of morality. The colonel was the
recipient of some oaths at Worcester. After "taps" he
was making his nightly perambulation, and on hearing
some noise in one of the barracks, he opened the door
thereof and commanded quiet.  Not recognizing his
voice' but recognizing the gust of cold air, they ordered
him to shut the door, and begone, in language stronger
than contemplated in the army regulations. When they
found out who the intruder was, there was a noiseless
creeping to bunks, and a great calm, only broken by the
loud snoring of those who had so suddenly abandoned
the practice of swearing. Like a sensible man, as he is,
the colonel went on his way, if not rejoicing, at least
amused.
Though, since his election, we have seen comparatively
but little of him, that little has only increased our confidence. Daily, he draws the reins of discipline tighter,
but with such judgment, that we are learning subordination without complaining. He, would have to draw them
very tight indeed before we would rear or kick. Singu



MASSACIHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           91
lar, what command he has over men. He is a born commander.' Quiet, reserved, yet there is not a man or officer in the regiment who does not feel that obedience to
him is half involuntary. While no one more than himself is a stickler for military etiquette and for a proper
respect paid to superior rank, yet no one is less assuming
or dictatorial. Emphatically, he treats a private as well
as an officer. I have known when he has,- as he afterwards
ascertained, wrongly rebuked a common soldier, send
for him and frankly apologize. You can imagine nothing
that would so strotgly bind to him the hearts of a proud
soldiery, who, but yesterday, were the peers, if not superiors of many of their officers. He might visit the men
in their quarters, or in the hospital, and speak jocular or
sympathetic words, and they would call him a jolly or
fine fellow; he might buy them holiday luxuries and institute games for their amusement, and they would praise
him, but all that would not awaken such reverence for,
and confidence in him as that simple apology, recognizing, as it does, that each soldier is a man, and presuming
he has the feelings of a gentleman, which even a colonel
is bound to respect. To awaken affection by the arts of
the demagogue, is not in him. He could not do so if he
were to try. Naturlally he is the exclusive, the aristocrat.
The adjutant, his former college mate, lives with him as
a brother. I know not how great is his intimacy with
the field officers, but he is not intimate with the line officers, (captains and lieutenants are called line officers, the
others are called field and staff officers.)  A recognition
of the distinction of rank may have something to do with
this, but natural reserve, and perchance some diffidence
underlies it all. Our democratic love of equality was
somewhat startled by the reading of an order on dress
parade to this effect: that soldiers will not sit down in
officers' tents. anless invited, and on entering them will
remove their hats. We were unnecessarily startled, for
it was merely stating that an officer's tent is his private




92          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
dwelling, and in it we should observe the proprieties due
from one gentleman to another. Some of us, with foolish
pride, find it hard to cheerfully recognize superiority of
rank. Saluting a superior does not imply any inherent
inferiority in us; we salute the rank, not the man always.
Prouder, really, are we who salute, than they who receive
and return it, for by the very act, we evidence a more
sacrificing patriotism. Though Captain Chaffee told the
colonel that there were men in his company (D) who
would grace the saddle (field officers, you know, are allowed horses), and so there are, yet he and all were not
unwilling to have their tents secured to themselves. I
have seen many an officer's tent crowded with loungers.
That order has made those same tents so much more commodious, that I shrewdly suspect that the colonel was
only its adopted father. No order has ever been necessary to secure to him the same respect he claimed for his
brother officers. We have a noble set of officers. They
"bear their blushing honors meekly."  You scarcely ever
see any of them presuming on their rank. They know,
that by the free choice of their men, they are what they
are, and act as become those who will, if spared, soon resume their former equality. In the necessary exercise of
discipline, they must needs offend. It may anger us
now; we will see it in a truer light hereafter. The army
is a good school in which to learn subordination, yet I
would not fancy being too long a student therein. I see
how military despots are created. Get in the habit of
rendering unquestioned obedience to another for a few
years, and you almost lose your capacity of resisting his
will. Though older than most of our officers, it will be
some time after our return to private life, before I can
be as familiar with them as if I had never been their military inferior.
We have had a change in our roster. Lieutenant
Clark, Co. A, has been honorably discharged. Sickness
prevented his being with us save a few weeks at Camp




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          93
Briggs. Second Lieutenant Francis was unanimously
elected to be his successor; and Orderly Sergeant George
Reed unanimously elected second lieutenant. This places
A. Howe in the position of Orderly. As his predecessor,
he was one of the three months' men, and is worthy of a
similar promotion. Co. A is a happy company, none being
more united, as witness the above unanimous elections.
Freer with their officers, perchance, than are the men of
any other company, yet no other company is under better
control. They are worthy of the right, the post of honor.
On the same day, December 31st, 1862, Orderly John
Doolittle, merchant, of Monterey, was unanimously chosen
second lieutenant, Co. F, to supply the vacancy arising
from the resignation of Lieutenant Sweet, who is prevented from going with us by severe and continued illness.
If health be spared him, Lieutenant Doolittle will creditably fulfil the duties of his position. The promotion of a
first sergeant by the unanimous votes of his company, is
a good guaranty of popularity.
On the twenty-third instant we had another election in
Co. C, the governor having refused to commission Lieutenant Foster, who was previously elected to that position.
Fourth Sergeant George R. Lingenfelter, of Pittsfield, was
duly chosen, having received nearly all the votes polled.
He is a blacksmith, twenty-eight years of age, and in his six
feet one and a half inches, looks a proper successor of the
"tall major." Though belonging to that company, I am
but little acquainted with him; but as he was a good
fireman at home, is well drilled, and has always faithfully
discharged his duties, I hope the* squabbles of Co. C are
ended in the election of a good commander.
On going into the yard or camp the other morning, I saw
a man standing on a barrel. A gag was in his mouth,
his hands were tied behind him, and on his breast was a
card on which was written, "a liar."  His captain had
placed him there because he denied knowing the whereabouts of his brother who had absented himself without




94          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-jNINTH
leave. A crowd gathered round, and, of course, sympathized with the victim. Some one proposed three groans
for the captain, and if he had not speedily released the
man, there would have been a small mutiny. I don't
know  when I felt more indignation..  Guilty or not
guilty, no officer has a right to punish unless a court-martial condemns the accused; yet this is not unfrequently
done. The punishment of flogging is abolished in the
army, and every commander has to devise some substitutes. It is a pity that men cannot be punished without
degrading them, without crushing their self-respect. It
is well all have not as wild blood in them as I felt in me
While gazing on that poor man. It seemed then to me'that, unless I was full of grace, such an indignity would
awaken " vengeance blood alone could quell."  Certainly
I am not alone in such feelings. If so, such punishments,
drying up self-respect and substituting a vengeful malice,
are not consistent with an officer's future safety. Such
a withering insult to pride would make fiends of many.
Some form of punishment is necessary-what shall it be?
Fining the sinner will not do, for frequent offences
would consume all his wages, and, if married, beggar his
family. Confinement on bread and water, standing on
barrels before head-quarters (now near the public road),
carrying ball or log and chain attached to the ankle,
standing with a heavily-loaded knapsack, increased guardduty, are the usual penalties of disobedience. The offences
are not of a flagrant nature; simply running-guard, staying beyond the allotted time, and occasionally intemperance and theft. The other evening, while the regiment
was drawn up for dress-parade, we witnessed an amusing
scene. One of the boys had imbibed too much of the ardent, and feeling valorous, made a charge on some poultry. The enemy fled, save an ancient goose, which was
made prisoner. The conquering hero was bearing away
his trophy, when he discovered that the foe had received
a re-enforcement in the shape of a stalwart Dutch (they




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          95
are nearly all Dutch here) dame. Knowing that "hell
hath no fury like a woman scorned," he concluded that
the "double-quick" was the best way to keep his blood
warm, and to save his Christmas dinner. So, off he ran,
and the dame after him. The ardent played havoc with
the "double-quick," which then had more "time" and
"motions" than are laid down in Hardee. The dame
drew nearer, and just as he reached the road where the
regiment was drawn up, she grasped him, and secured
the coveted property. Perchance the cackling of geese
saved old Rome, but it did not save our hero from condign punishment. The night's rest sobered him, and
when morning came, he took his stand upon a barrel
where he could overlook the scene of his discomfiture.
A crowd gathered round him, and pointing to the letters
"U. S." on his belt, he wanted to know what they stood
for. Some said " United States," and some " Uncle Sam,"
and others "Union Savers."  " No I no! they stand for
Unfortunate Soldier."  Pretty good that; wasn't it?
Standing on a barrel from reveille to taps, that is from 7,
A. M. to 9 P. M., searched by a northwester, perchance
for three consecutive days, is no light punishment. Enduring it, I have known men's legs to swell so that the surgeon demanded their removal. Truly, this is a mortifying fact, and more so, because the punished have really
deserved some punishment.
There is a company here belonging to the Third New
York Merchants' Brigade. We call them "mackerels."
They are a disgrace to the merchants of the metropolis,
for they seem t6 be the refuse of Five Points. Many of
them are not fifteen years old. They are wretchedly
clothed and fed, and under the charge of a sergeant-major, who knows no more about governing than a Hottentot about preaching. They are now under Colonel
Bartlett's care.  Reckless and abused, punishment is'their general rule. If these are a specimen of New York
soldiers, no wonder that the Neiw Yorkers looked upon




96          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
us as prodigies of strength, neatness and propriety. Go
into their yard, and you will see the "mackerels" standing on barrels, or with barrels on their heads, or lugging
about a ball and chain, or bucked. Say you, what is
" bucking?" The hands are tied together in front of the
knees, beneath which a stick is put, resting on the inside
of the elbows, thus cramping the poor victim, so that he
has the sharpest angle imaginable to sit on, and if he does
not sit still, over he rolls as helpless as a log. It may not
be very painful, but it is certainly unpleasant, degrading,
and wondrously amusing to-spectators. S. H. Rossiter,
of Company B, was corporal of the guard over the mackerels. He is a Christian gentleman, educated and refined,
than whom no cause or country ever boasted a purer soldier. He was ordered to " buck" them. Half amused,
half indignant, he hesitated; then went to his captain and
asked him if it was his duty to do that. On being told
that it was, he calmly did the disagreeable work. There
was the true Puritan soldier. "Though duty be ever so
unpleasant, so apparently revolting, I'll do it." I watched
him, and felt assured there was a man who would never
flinch, no matter how fierce the conflict. We have many
such. O sacred indeed should be that cause claiming the
sacrifice of such lives.
The cause is sacred indeed, worthy of myriad of hecatombs of the best and purest. We hoped so always; we
know it now. The Proclamation of Emancipation, dated
January 1st, 1863, sweeps from our minds all doubts.
The cauntry claims our all. We offer it freely. Lincoln
was not unfaithful. The words have gone forth to be
sounded in every slave cabin through the South. "I,
Abraham Lincoln, solemnly declare near three millions
of slaves free, and will maintain that freedom with all the
power of the government." Grand! never to be forgotten words! words that will grow grander through all
the ages; words that will lift up the name of Abraham
Lincoln above common names; aye, above the name of




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS. 
Washington. Lincoln has had more need of moral courage than had Washington. When the latter lived, Freedom was, to all, a sacred word. Lincoln's Proclamation
finds it almost a tabooed word, fit for fanatics, but hardly
consistent with the respectability and conservatism of the
gentleman. Washington stood up for a liberty that had
primary reference to a noble, white Anglo-Saxon race;
Lincoln links his name with the choicest earthly hopes of
the degraded blacks. An already prepared nation vindicated Washington. Lincoln's freedom finds degenerate
sons of liberty-loving sires ready to crush it under their
scorn. Brave words! brave President!  In the White
House he holds the same views that he rang out on the
prairies of the west. Among other things, for which I
devoutly thank God, is Abraham Lincoln. I recall many
of my words. His leisure is faster than my haste; his
folly wiser than my wisdom. Like a child, feeling for a
father's land in the night, so have I put out my hand,
hoping to lay hold of something that would sustain me.
I find that hand inclosed in the warm grasp of the President; his kind eyes are upon me, and he says, " I send
you forth to do battle for God and Freedom —Go!" and I
go, blessing God that I have strength to go; not counting my life dear unto myself, that I may do something,
however little, to bring permanent victory to the banner
of Liberty. Now, I can imagine a man going into the
valley of hell, when earth and air are crowded with deathdealing missiles, with a sweeter, wilder joy than into the
marriage chamber. Wedded to death for Freedom's
sake, clasping Liberty in a dying embrace, breathing out
his life on her lips, shouting:
"Whether on the gallows high,
Or in the battle's van,
The noblest place for man to die,
Is where he dies for man."
I thank God I live; I see the sun of Freedom rising
5




98          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
full-orbed; and as it flashes on the old flag, the dear old
flag, stripes seem all hidden with stars that reflect the
glory of God. The jubilant hours of April, 1861, have returned, save that their animating hopes are nowfruition.
If it were necessary to clamber up to the height of this
day, that the Peninsula should grow rank with northern
blood, I hail the martyred dead as having gloriously died.
I can now unreservedly give myself, all of myself, body,
brhins, heart, to my country. Her cause is now God's
cause.  Humanity is on our side. What though that
Proclamation is to be indorsed with the blood of tens of
thousands!
"Life is thought, not breaths; deeds, not years;
And he lives longest who best fulfils-life's great ends."
" It is not all of life to live." In one single hour, in
some forlorn hope, a man may throw his. life against a
giant wrong, and in that hour win for truth high, vantage
ground, and do more for the best interests of the race
than by a whole century of peaceful existence.
The words have gone forth. To all, our Flag now
means Freedom.  Those words can never be recalled.
The die is bast.'We recognize that our nation's life is to
be saved by justice and righteousness. Intervention dies
as those truly American words fall on the hearts of
Europe's millions. There is no despot, however powerful, however much he may desire the abandonment of our
principles, and the death of our institutions, but knows
that any crusade against American Liberty, will be at the
peril of his crown and life. If never before, Christendom
will read " equal rights for all" on our flag. Reading it,
their expanding souls will loosen their shackles, and our
land will hasten to fulfil its mission; the civil and religious enfranchisement of the world.
Ere long, men made free by this Proclamation will
have the privilege of fighting to sustain it. Six months
will not roll away before we have many a corps de Af



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           99
rique. Let them come; with their own red right-hands let
them come out for themselves, honor, freedom, and nationality. Radicals and conservatives may struggle on.
The nation's heart can now rest. Under God, our future
is safe. Now, we will have victories indeed, as well as
in name. Murfreesboro strikes the key-note of the war.
The pride of the South then went down before the power
of. the Free West. -Dark hands will see to it that that
pride shall no more vaunt itself against the "flag of the
free." Rivers of blood are yet to be shed, but looking
into the future over countless graves, I forget present
sorrow, and exultingly press on, crying, " This war pays,
this war pays." As nothing but some unforeseen providence shall confine me to my safe position in the quartermaster's department, when comes the call to arms; having fully resolved to share all dangers as well as glory;
and so knowipg that I may never again visit home and
loved ones; yet, I say, "This war pays! The victory,
now sure to come, will be worth vastly more than all it
will cost!" We are recovering our Union, completing
our liberty. We are obtaining security that the precious
blood of our slain shall not have been shed in vain.
I am sometimes awed as I recognize the wonderful
dealings of God with this nation. Suppose Breckinridge
had been elected President in 1860, what would have
been our condition?-or Douglas? Secession and war
would have followed, and as death had already been fas.
tened upon him, Johnson, of Georgia, now in the rebel
service, would be our pilot. Had the war commenced
ten years sooner, how illy we would have been prepared
for it, materially and morally. Says the eloquent Bishop
Simpson, "God has'been preparing us for the conflict
during many years. He has raised up among us the genius
of invention. The railway has been laid down, the harbors
of the ocean crowded, the sickle displaced by machinery,
in order that men might be spared to fight in this war.
So, too, when perfidious England sent out her war ships




100        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
to prey on our commerce, the American people were
prepared to send them bread. The sewing machine had
been rendered subservient in like manner to the wants of
the soldier, and God sent the invention in readiness for
the struggle. The conversion of the soldiers was prepared for too by that wonderful outpouring of prayer
which visited the Christian world a year or two since.
God was on our side, and would yet give us the generals
and ability to close up the war."
The holidays are over, and though we missed the luxuries and friends of home, we kept up some of the festivities of the season. The ladies of Sternsville sent Co.
A, freight paid, a box of eomforts and luxuries, weighing
six hundred pounds. Co. E was also generously remembered. Pontoosuc and Hancock did not forget their soldiers. Many individuals received tokens of home affection, so we became quite familiar with the sight of express-wagons. Mr. Brewster supplied the members of
his department with a Christmas dinner, equal to what
we were wont to have at that season at home. Captain
Garlick and Lieutenant Dresser treated their respective
companies; and on the afternoon of New Year's Day,
Colonel Sumner drew up the regiment in line, and amid
the cheers of the men, distributed a liberal supply of
crackers, cheese, apples, and ale, the gift of Mrs. J. R.
Morewood, of Pittsfield, who also favored us at Christmas with a liberal supply of cake. And so passed pleasantly away our holidays at camp.
We will not carry all who were " mustered in" with us
to Dixie. The surgeon has been weeding out the incompetent. How some passed the first surgeon's examination
is a mystery. With many of the discharged, the spirit
may have been willing, but the flesh was certainly too
weak. Better' send them home than freight our hospitals, only to be relieved by their early burials. As we
are going to the most unhealthy part of the South, the
grave-yard of the Southwest, where many of us will find




MASSACHUSETTI  VOLUNTEERS.        1
graves even if we never see an armed rebel, it is well to
carry no already superannuates with us. Since I wrote
you, we have lost Henry W. Cain (K), a farmer from
Adams, wha died at home of consumption, on the twentysecond of December. le was a good man, but his strength
was not equal to his patriotism. As camp exposure hastened his death, we record him among our " fallen brave."
Four months have passed away and no pay. This delay works out real suffering to soldiers' families, especially in those States that do not provide State aid to the
families of volunteers. Bless Old Massachusetts! Her
provident legislation assures us that our families are not
entirely destitute. We need money, if for nothing else, to
buy tobacco. You may preach anti-tobacco with some
hope of gaining a few converts anywhere save in camps.
Give a man very many unemployed hours, and tobacco,
if not a necessity, is a wonderful solace. The pipe, the
fine cut makes up the deficiency in quantity or quality of
food, and is a positive, indescribable luxury. The sutler
trusts each soldier to goods amounting to two dollars per
month, but as most of them have exhausted that credit,
the prospect of going south without money is any thing
but pleasant.




102        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XVI.
LONG IsLAND, NEW YORK, January 23, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
I sit down to write you my last letter from this camp,
as we have orders to report on ship-board. Though
anxious to face the realities of soldier life, we leave Snedeker's barn-yard with a good deal.of regret. Our stay
here has, on the whole, been pleasant to all. A great
many of the soldiers' wives have visited us this month,
putting us in mind of the bright days of Camp Briggs.
We have had fine quarters here. The officers of Co.
F, and Sergeant-Major Wylie, have barracked with us,
and many a jolly, cheery hour have we spent together.
Getting the right side of the butcher and baker, we have
been supplied with army luxuries, and given to hospitality, have often feted officers and their ladies. We will
not soon forget the old barn-yard, with its festive scenes,
its mock court-martials, and its joyous associations. In
sundering partnership with Co. F, we retain in our department as wagon-master and as a souvenir of those
happy days, Orrin HIulet, one of those men whom you
can always count on, and implicitly trust; an old soldier
and consistent Christian, who only needs the absence of
his employer to do nearly double the work that that employer would have required at his hands.
On a recent visit to Pittsfield, his fellow-members of
Housatonic Engine Company, presented Captain Lingenfelter with a sword and trimmings, through T. Clapp,
Esq.
The high honor of bearing the colors falls on Thomas
Bach, sergeant in company F. He is a noble looking fellow, and a soldier of the Florida war. H. R. Fowler,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         103
corporal (D), carrries the white flag of Massachusetts,
while Corporals T. Biety (A), E. W. Pierce (B), E. E.
Ensign (E), a college-mate of the colonel, and an educated gentleman, A. J. French (F), H. A. Glazier (G), E.
W. Bliss (H), and T. Carey (K), form the color guard.
Their main duty is to defend the flag. Proud and dangerous post! Battles have been lost and won by the
"color guard." You know not what an inspiration the
"colors" bear with them. Let them be but advanced, and
a shrinking regiment grows proud and strong. Invocations to them, though trite, will always find an answering
response in the hearts of true soldiers. Misses A. and
S. Learned, of Pittsfield, presented us with two small but
handsome silk flags, on which are marked name of regiment. E. Ende and J. Bryce (A) bear these flags, and
are called markers. D. Dalzell (K) remains behind as
orderly to General Wool. T. M. Judd (F), and A. A.
Loop (D), are detached as clerks at head-quarters, positions, the importance of which cannot be estimated merely by the extra pay of forty cents per day. There are no
pleasanter posts in the army. They can live like gentlemen, and have access to many important secrets. They
are both well worthy of their promotion. H. D. Adams
(E) is ward-master; we all say, "the right man in the
right place."  E. W. Steadman (F), noted for his proficiency in that part of drumming called " rolling," is now
Drum-major.
We have been very busy, lately in getting our writing
done up. You have no idea what a vast amount of writing is necessary to keep a regiment in proper order. The
fifth sergeant of each company acts as captain's clerk, and
you may depend on it his office is no sinecure. Most
of them are superior business men, who could command
large salaries at home, yet, for seventeen dollars per
month, they leave all at duty's call.
Who will look after deserters in New York since
the provost guards of the Forty-ninth have been ordered




104        LFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
to join their regiment? Our boys gained for their regiment an enviable name while discharging their delicate
and often dangerous duties. From ten to two at night
they would search grog shops, dance houses, and dens of
prostitution for deserters. While thus employed, they
arrested and returned, to their regiments twelve hundred.
Sergeant E. H. Murray, of Company D, won for himself
much credit for prudence and courage while in command
of his provost squad of twenty-two men. Several times
his life was in almost as great peril as it would be in
battle, but unflinchingly he did his work. Men that can
be bribed with liquor or seduced by dissolute women,
would make but poor provost guards. Few things proclaim more loudly the praise and merit of our regiment
than General Wool's persistent effort to keep us in the
provost work.  Strange hiding places deserters sometimes found. On more than one occasion Sergeant Murray found a frail sister standing in the corner of a room to
receive him with greater respect, but, as a married man,
and so supposed to be a judge of crinoline, he could not
but fancy she was possessed of a wonderful amplitude.
Perchance desirous of the honor of introducing a new
fashion to the consideration of his lady friends on his return to Berkshire, he ventured to make some observations, and so tried to view the marvel on all sides, when,
to his surprise he discovered that the lady wore high-top
boots, and suspicious pantaletts. Curiosity being stronger
than gallantry, he led the blushing damsel aside, and lo!
the crinoline was delivered of a full-grown man-a deserter.  What will not woman do when she loves "not
wisely, but too well?"
Adieu to New York, to the North.
On leaving, I send you




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTrEERS.               105
WAR  SONG,
RITTEN FOR THE FORTY-NINTH REGIMENT MASSACHUSETTS
VOLUNTEERS.
Am.-" Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean."
Old Berkshire, from hill and from valley,
Her pride and her glory sends forth;
Her brave sons unitedly rally,
With the legions that pour from the NorthY
With firm will and manly endeavor,
The Star-spangled Flag to uphold;
Oh give us old Berkshire for ever,
And her own FORTY-NINTH, brave and bold I
(Chorus) And her own Forty-Ninth, brave and bold,
And her own Forty-Ninth, brave and bold,
Oh give us old Berkshire for ever,
And her own Forty-Ninth, brave and bold.
We leave home and friends far behind us,
And the scenes we have cherished so dear,
The ties that no longer must bind us,
We sunder them all with a tear.
Ourselves from our kindred we sever,
Till war and its perils are past;
For the Flag of our Union for ever,
We swear to defend to the last!
(Chorus) We swear to defend to the last, &c.
By our Colonel, well skilled in commanding,
Into battle we wait to be led;
On a single sound leg he is standing,
But he's sound in his heart and his head.
At his bidding we're going to follow,
O'er the fields of the South far awa',
And we'll vanquish the rebels all hollow,
Three cheers for our Colonel I Hurra I
(Chorus) Three cheers, &c.
Our Lieutenant-Colonel and MajorWe know they are faithful and true;
And victory's certain presager,
We hail'in their ardor to do.
5*




106           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
At their lead, in right soldierly manner,
The base rebel foe we'll pursue;
And we'll tear down the secession banner,
And fling out the red, white and blue I
(Chorus) And fling out, &c.
Our Captains are prompt to their duty,
Lieutenants alert to each call;
Our Staff boasts of valor and beauty,
And in fact, we are fine fellows all.
In Pittsfield, where we came together,
In Worcester's generous town;
And even in Long Island weather,
The old FORTY-NINTH takes'em down I
(Chorus) The old Forty-Ninth, &e.
Farewell to the homes we are leaving;
Farewell to the friends whom we know;
Farewell to the lasses now grieving;
We'll think of them all as we go.
For all these our bosoms are yearning,
While duty is beck'ning afar;
And we'll give, till God speeds our returning,
Three cheers for " sweet home;" Hip I Hurra I
(Chorus) Three cheers for sweet home; Hip I Hurra I
Three cheers for sweet home; Hip I Hurra I
And we'll give, till God speeds our returning,'Three cheers for sweet home; Hip I Hurra I




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         107
LETTER XVII.
STEAMSHIP NEW BRuNSWICK, before New Orleans,
February 7, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
As I may have an opportunity to mail you a letter soon,
I will get one in readiness. On Friday, the 23d ult.,
the regiment embarked. By some mismanagement the
sick who were to go with us, spent the night at Brooklyn
in a cold car. We leave some of our number to recruit
in the New York hospitals before going South. Our
ocean camp, the steamship Illinois, was comfortable, being a staunch California steamer, but we were unduly
crowded, having on board, our own regiment, some companies of the Twenty-first Maine, and representatives of
several other regiments, in all thirteen hundred men. The.berths were so arranged as to be well ventilated.
The dock where our good ship lay presented a busy
scene. Very many were there to bid us farewell. Fathers, mothers, wives, and scores of Massachusetts men
made up the crowd. Sad hearts were hid by cheerful
faces, but alas, the sigh followed the smile. Men afraid
of playing the woman, assumed an unnatural levity, and
friends parted as if they were sure to meet with the returning morn. The colonel's parents were there. Pride
in him could not make them forget that dire day before
Yorktown. Might not the future, though still more glorious, be yet more dire? Who could tell? Who but
the great Searcher of hearts knew the struggles of that
hour? All the "brave go not to the field," There is
more than poetry in these lines:




108           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
THE BRAVE AT HOME.
BY T. BUCHANAN READ.
The maid who binds the warrior's sash,
With smile that well her pain dissembles,
The while beneath her drooping lash,
One starry tear-drop hangs and trembles,
Though Heaven alone records the tear,
And fame shall never know her story
Her heart has shed a drop as dear
As ever dewed the field of glory.
The wife who grinds her husband's sword,'Mid little ones who weep and wonder,
And bravely speaks the cheering word,
What though her heart be rent asunderDoomed nightly in her dreams to hear
The bolts' of war around him rattle,
Hath shed as sacred blood as e'er
Was poured upon the plain of battle.
The mother who conceals her grief.
While to her breast her son she presses
Then breathes a few brave words and brief,
Kissing the patriot now she blesses,
With no one but her secret God
To know the pain that weighs upon her,
Sheds holy blood as e'er the sod
Received in Freedom's field of honor.
I need not dwell on the parting scene.'Tis too fresh,
too much a matter of vivid feeling for expression. Some
kind friends cheered our hearts and the hearts of the peddlers, by scattering around cigars, apples and oranges.
What cared we for those favors? Little, but much, very
much for them as tender expressions of woman's appreciation of our sacrifices. Those earnest-eyed women of
the dear old commonwealth looked on us as their defenders.
The hours passed on, when about noon General Andrew- and staff arrived, and the increased bustle betokened that the time of our departure was at hand. General Andrew's first act was to eject our sutler and his




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           109
stores from the ship. Liking Mr. Springstein as'-e do,
and seeing no necessity for such a step, our introduction
to the brigadier was not calculated to prepossess us in
his favor.
At noon of Jan. 24th, we swung loose from the wharf,
amid responsive cheers, and very soon were hidden from
the last lingering look of those who mournfully sang:
"Now blow, gentle gales, o'er the dark blue sea,
Bid the storm-king stay his hand,
And bring my soldier back to me,
To his own dear native land."
We had two brigadiers on board with their respective staffs.  General Andrew has seen service, having
been with Banks in upper Virginia, where he was severely wounded. General Dwight is a little pompous, kidgloved man, but as brave as a lion. He is one of five
brothers in the army, and served with honor and wounds
on the Peninsula. The members of their staffs were generally very young, boyish and exclusive, if I should say
puppyish, most of the boys would think I had hit the
nail on the head for once. I never saw such a snobbish
set. Those, whose sensitiveness had been wounded by
submission to superiors, were comforted. -Before the
awful dignity of staff officers, a captain or a lieutenant
was nothing, and noticed by them less than we are noticed
by our officers. We never knew how to appreciate our
officers before. There is nothing snobbish about them.
In my verdancy, I expected that the various officers
would be mutually introduced, and that there would be
a pleasant fraternization, a union of hearts that would
produce union and enthusiasm in the field. But not a
bit of it. Those little dandy lieutenants on the staffs,
strutted about in their fine clothes like peacocks, and scarcely noticed even our colonel, while hardly a word passed
between them and the inferior officers. They chilled the
air, and one was sorely tempted to accidentally (?) trip
them up as they passed along. I suppose they have Bos



110        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTHt
ton pluck, and that is all that you can say in their favor.
These men are fools. Don't they know that the aversion
they awaken in us will weaken them on the day of battle? They have to lead where personal influence and
respect may turn the scale of victory. For them, we feel
nothing of that kind. Colonel Bartlett could do more
with one of our companies, than these exclusives with
the whole regiment. Well, let them pass; they may redeem themselves, and in gazing on their valor, we will
forget their follies.
Companies A and E were down in lower part of the
hold, any thing but comfortably situated. There were three
tiers (or stories) of bunks for the accommodation of the
men. The Maine boys, a lousy, dirty set, took it rough
and tumble on deck. We will hail them as comrades in
the day of battle, for the brimstone and sulphur of war
may purify them. Just now, we feel to them as exclusive as if we were staff officers. There were two cabins,
the lower of which was occupied by generals, colonels,'majors and captains, and the upper by lieutenants and us
small fry. The officers found board at the hands of the
steward for a dollar and fifty cents per day, a price at
which the -steward did not get poor, considering that
most of his guests were more than satisfied by the mere
smelling of food. The well ones do say that it required
considerable ingenuity to get enough to satisfy their appetites.
The -regiment fared badly. For a day or two, we had
fresh beef, but that was soon consumed, and we were
confined to " salt horse." Barrels thereof, already cooked,
stood near the cook-house, but were not much patronized. We had-no water save sea-water distilled by being
used in the boilers, and of that a very insufficient supply. You can judge then, why salt beef went a begging.
The horses of our officers were not taken on board, but
we were troubled with fifteen staff horses who used more
of the meagre supply of water than we liked. Consumed




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         111
with thirst, you can imagine how happy we felt when we
heard one of the exclusives say, "I don't care a -
whether the men get water or not, but my horse shall
have it." 0 what an inexpressible joy to follow such
men into battle!  Toward the latter part of the trip we
got short of coal, which lessened the quantity of steam,
and also our supply of drinking water. Fed on salt food,
deprived of coffee, put on half rations of water, it was a
wonder that we did not mutiny and push the thirsty horses into the ocean. They had no right to crowd so many
on board. To cook for thirteen hundred men we had
two steam-boilers and a space of four by five feet.  We
cooked there, the Maine boys did their cooking there, as
did also the detached men of some other regiments.
Cooking day and night would not prepare a sufficiency
of food. All the rations due could be had, but they could
not be prepared. Coffee is the soldier's staff of life, and
when for days, chilly days too, scarcity of water prevented us having any coffee, we were pretty well down in
the mouth. Pretty good fellows we are, or we would
have stormed the cook-house and compelled officers and
horses to a pro rata distribution of water. Provoking
enough it was to see hot steaks and biscuits and pies go
to the cabin tables, but that we were willing to bear, for
it was in the programme, but " no coffee " was something
we never imagined. Give a cup of coffee and then a little tobacco, and a soldier will be pretty reasonable.
Of course we have nearly all been sea-sick. Sea-sickness never kills, but it makes many wish it would. It is
all I ever dreamed or thought or feared of the nasty.
Provoke a sea-sick man, and he would almost strike his
mother, if he had strength enough. Show me a man
who is gentlemanly while thus tormented, and I will show
you the highest type of the genus honmo. A sea-sick man
don't swear; he is beyond that, literally he don't care a
-- for any thing. Old Neptune is a nasty, miserable
tyrant and cheat. When you are first taken, you vomit




112        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
freely and think you are all right, and wonder why people
make so much fuss about a little nausea, but by and by,
when you have given the old sea-dog all your food, and
think you have a receipt in full, the heaving of the ship
stirs up bile and gall too, and you begin-to vomit? No
you don't —you wish you could; you would give one of
your babies for a good vomiting spell-but you begin to
retch. Do you know the meaning of that word?' Go to
sea in foul weather, and we had scarcely any thing else,
and you will loathingly remember its meaning all your
life. Lie down on the flat of your back and you are then
only less than deathly sick, but once roll over and away
you start, perchance at night, tripping over sleepers
(how can they, how dare they sleep?) for the side of the
ship. Now, certainly you can vomit-yes, a little froth,
and nothing else. Retching there for an hour and no relief, you go back to your bunk and lie on your back till
your bones ache, and you must move,oand moving, you
must get up and run, for certainly now you will find the
relief which can alone make life endurable. Pale, bluegilled, on you go, the boys see you, " Hallo! Johns, how
are you? there he goes!" and you hang over the railing
for an hour, looking more like a sick calf than any thing
else, till your legs ache and you are wet with the cold
spray, and then down you get on your haunches. The
old ship makes a plunge, and over you go on the deck in
a pool of filth to which the foulest spittoon is absolute
sweetness and cleanness. Some fellow, not man enough
to share your sickness, comes along, " Well, Johns, how
are you this.morning?" You look up and see in the tormenting eyes,.a twinkle, saying, " What a fool you are to
give up to it." You don't knock him down, for you have
not strength or energy enough for that; you don't swear
at him, for that requires an effort, and, as you are quite
sure you will die if not relieved soon, your. conscience
protests against misusing your waning power in that
way; but you do inwardly pray that he may soon be as




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          113
sick as yourself, and malevolence can no farther go. Some
one tells you that lemon juice will work a speedy cure.
With awakened hope you stagger after a lemon. Now,
you see nearly every man sucking at one, and you get yours
at last. You squeeze it, and as the acid descends, you
feel something rising, you choke it down, determined to
give the lemon a fair chance, but all in vain, so you pitch
it in the sea, and once more hang over the dirty slippery
rail. "Johns, poor fellow, I pity you; go and drink
some sea-water and you will find relief."  "That's so,"
and with a queer sort of thanks, you rush to the pump,
crowd your way in and gulp down the worse than castor
oil. Sure enough, you vomit freely, hurrah!-Eugh! it
is only the sea-water you throw up, and then you are
sicker than ever. Reckless, you get down on your back
again, lie there till necessity urges you up, and, then some
one tells you that you can soon overcome it by resolutely
walking.  Well, you try it.  The plaguy old ship is
drunk, why can't it be still? Saying nothing, holding
hard your breath, up and down you stagger just as long
as your legs will carry you, and then stop, and thenretch and retch your. life away. Perchance there is a
calm, the craft is sober again, and you begin to think
you may possibly see something worth living for. True,
your head is a vast bee-hive, but once more  you crave
food. O luxury of luxuries then, a boiled potato and a
little salt! If the calm continues, coffee is the nectar of
the gods, but hard-tack and salt-horse, scarcely their ambrosia. Now, you think the time may come in the far
distant fhiture, when you can hear, without shuddering,
your sweetheart or wife sing "A life on the ocean wave,
a home on the rolling deep." You look at the big ditch,
and dimly perceive some beauty and grandeur, and have
enlarged views of the Infinite, and awful conceptions of
Eternity, and see the sun rise and set in mid ocean with
awe and solemnity, but at the same time, have an idea
that that bank of clouds in the. west is something more




.114        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
than the hangings of the sea-god's regal couch. Mlore
than half convinced that the dwellers on the ocean are
not all fools, and that Neptune has some royal and redeeming qualities, you go to your sound sleep. Ere morning, you hear great giant thunderings at the sides of
your vessel, and find your bed on rockers, and wake
up in the darkness, to discover that you have been a fool
to trust in the deceptive promises of monarchs. Then all
your bitter experience, intensified, is renewed, and you
have to go through with the after pangs of the sea-birth.
Then, you solemnly register your vows that once get out
of this scrape, neither man nor devil nor Uncle Sam will
ever get you into it again. " Ah! my dear fellow, I wish I
could be sea-sick; you will stand the Southern climate
so much better for this purging." Bah! I wish he
could be sea-sick, and as for Southern climate, I would
swallow it, malaria, ague, yellow fever, black tongue and
all, only to be once again on terra firma, no matter though
it were a desert and a solitude.
Well, none of us died, though nearly all were sick. For
awhile the officers' table was far from crowded, and the
ringing of the dinner-bell awakened no hurry nor interest. Old Nep. was no respecter of persons. Stars and
eagles and straps all bowed before him as master. 0 ye
dignified ones! how unstarched you looked when you relinquished your dinners with so much more rapidity than
grace, assuming positions, the most careful study of Hardee never taught you. These new motions first became
fashionable about mid-afternoon of the day we left New
York. The freshened air had invigorated our appetites,
and just as we had discussed the merits of our rations,
and while the, to us, unknown luxuries of the cabin were
lingering on the palates of the officers, and as they, full
of food and of high hopes, were parading the quarterdeck, they began to find that the "Narrows" was the
sea-monarch's custom-house, and tribute in the current
coin of his realm was demanded. Nolens volens, they




MASSACHUSETTS VOLJNTEERS.            1 i 5
paid it. So generous was one of them that he gave up,
not only his dinner, but his teeth also. Sure he was, at
that time, he would never need teeth again. While those
who sat at the first table were thus strangely digesting
their repast, some of their successors exhibited an aversion to their food, and without waiting to return thanks,
hurriedly sprang on deck.  Privates are not allowed on
the quarter-deck, but there was plenty of room for them
there that evening.  When the hour comes, that comes
to nearly all, there is no time to rush up three flights of
stairs, and so you can imagine the highly scented condition of the hold. Imagine still farther, delicately reared
men doing police duty there the next morning. So we
continued; well, when the ocean was calm, and sick,
when it was rough, which was nearly all the time. As
for myself, I was about the sickest of the sick, and have
signed away all right and interest in that treacherous
thing called the sea. To endure that for nine months,
and I guess I would say, " perish my country, and all its
hopes forever!"  I'll stand by the bond, and deliver my
native land from all its enemies, but in the' name of my
stomach, of all that is in me, or ought to be in me, I protest against fighting an enemy who never has the manliness to meet you face to face. Well, it is over, and as
we sail up the Mississippi, we are determined to open it before our time of service shall have expired. When comes
the fierce conflict and we waver before the foe, 4 "Rally,
Forty-ninth, or you must return by the way of the ocean,"
will endue us with a courage that no rebels can resist.
The following lines by Colonel Sumner are very suggestive. lEe was there.
EXPERIENCES AFLOAT.
O gentle muse I 0 gracious muse I
Bestow thy smile on me,
While I describe the wondrous sights
I see upon the sea.




116           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Old Ocean is a " heavy swell,"
A deep old salt, for that;
You'll find your error, if at first
You take him for a flat.
No rower can withstand his roar,
For blows he's ever ready;
And whoso keeps his company,
Is apt to get unsteady.
He brags what flags wave o'er his waves,
He boasts his ships are whalers;
With gales regales us just to show
How he assails the sailors.
Ah me  I'm six days out from shore,
A cleaned out, luckless rover;
Another six days' cruise ahead,
And so, I'm half-seas over.
I feel so " cabined, cribbed, confined,"
I scarce can draw my breath;
There's no more comfort in my berth,
Than if it were my death.
I go upon the upper deck,
They call " the hurricane;"
I spy a seat hard by, I strive
With all my might to gain.
The passage thither seems up hill,
I'm just a'going to soar;
When lo I there comes a sudden lurch —
I'm sprawling on the floor I
With stern resolve I seek the stern,
The ship's in mad carouse;
The masts, as to their master nod,
The bow is making bows.
The smoke-stack is exceeding sick,
It vomits forth a cloud;
A deathly pallor seems to sit
On every sail and shroud.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.              117
I look down in the engine-room,
The struggle there is fine;
The old ship's stomach seems disturbed
Almost as bad as mine.
An after-thought conducts me aft,
How very queer I feel;
The things go dancing round me so,
My brain begins to reel.
Then comes the strange sensation on,
The like you never knew;
There's nothing for it but to runEugh I E-ugh I I E-e-u-g-h I I 1
0 grim old Neptune I once release
Your precious hold on me,
And you may play your pranks at will;
I'll never go to sea.
STEAMSHIP ILLINOIS, AT SEA,
OFF COAST OF FLORIDA, Jan. 30, 1863.
We had rough weather nearly all the way from New
York to Florida.  Howard and Hulet were the only men
in our department fit for duty. We might feel pretty
well, but get down into the hold where our stores were
kept, and the old nausea would send us up stairs on a
"double-quick."  On Monday, January 26th, about 10
A. M., we reached Fortress Monroe, where General Andrew went on shore for orders,' and whence we mailed
a good many letters. Fortress Monroe, with its quiet
bay, its various crafts, its monitors, and warlike surroundings, was an interesting sight to us landsmen, many of
whom never before saw a fort or a war ship.
General Andrew  having returned, we agAin headed
south about 24 P. M. Having gone a little way, we were
startled by the cry, " man overboard!" A poor fireman,
maddened by liquor and the heat of the furnace, rushed
on deck, and thence into the ocean. As soon as possible,
the ship was stopped, a boat lowered, and vigorous arms
bore it on toward the struggling wretch. In the white
track of the ship, we could see an atom which we knew




118        LIFE WITH THE. FORTY-NINTH
was a drowning man. The water had cooled his fever,
and brought back the desire for life, for which he fought
hard. The boat neared him; -he sank and rose again and
again, and sank to rise no more. Neptune had received
a tribute he must restore to his master. Was it because
we ourselves were going on an errand of death that this
startling episode failed to startle us? As the waves
closed over the dead, leaving no trace behind, so did the
waves of our lives, every day becoming more serious,
close over this scene, leaving scarce a ripple.
Between Fortress Monroe and the coast of Florida,
we had what we called stormy weather, bringing chill
to every bone, and sickness and discomfort to nearly all.
We were disappointed in the height of the billows.
Waves running mouritain high is poetical, but not true.
Forty feet, their highest elevation, make a poor show of
a mountain to men who have been cradled by Mount
Greylock and Everett. If mountain relates to discomfort,
they were high as Mount Blanc. One night, they dashed
over the ship, rushing down the hold, putting out the
lights, and rousing the boys with the conviction that
Nep. was coming a little too near for safety. I don't
know how,many prayed, but I do know some swore as
if fight rather than fear was uppermost. Hearing the
profanity, and remembering the prayers that had cradled
many of them, one almost expected that the God of the
ocean was coming to visit us in vengeance, but mercy
prevailed, and we lived till Friday evening to see land
again. That sunset scene, sun sinking in splendor to its
ocean bed, gilding the evergreens of Florida; the treacherous sea as calm and almost as lovely as a sleeping babe;
the air balmy as spring, all gave us a filller idea of the
meaning of " sunny South," than we ever had before.
Saturday and Sunday, the last of January, and the first of
February, were days long to be remembered. Then we
wound round into the Gulf of Mexico. The sun was a
little too warm, and coats became oppressive. A delicious




MASSACHUSETT S VOLUNTEERS.'119
languor crept into your system, and mere existence was
a pleasure. I don't blame the Southener, for being lazy.
Life seemed to be made there merely for eating a little,
and basking and dreaming in the sun. We have grand,
glorious sunsets in the North, where every thing is clearly cut and as brilliantly distinct and vivid as if elaborated by the most skilful artist, but we have no such sunsets as closed that first day of February. A great bank
of clouds rose in the west, looking so much like huge
cliffs, that you momentarily expected to hear the orders,
" Port your helm," to avoid a collision. There is nothing
distinct about a tropical sunset. All things are blended
together as sweetly as a pleasant dream. You don't see
poetry in the clouds; you feel it. Enjoyment, not analysis, is your duty. Though Sunday, and a chaplain was
on board, we had no public religious services, but I fancy
there were few who were not benefited by the sermon
then preached by nature. Tempted by the softness of
the air, I slept two nights on deck. I slept well. To
wake up and see the chaste moon smiling on you; to hear
the soft ripplings of the waves, and look out on the vast
ocean, was enough to make one forever forswear the effeminacy of feathers and roofed chambers. So I thought till
on that Sunday night, I was awakened by the falling rain,
the howling wind, and the rolling deep. Then came a
storm, and I wrote myself down as a fool to put any
faith in. old ocean. Only the last evening, I was ready t6
swear eternal love and fealty, and now, when that beauty
yet thrilled me, and that love made me happy, a sudden
nausea drove me to the ship's side, where I believe I
offered up my last tribute to Neptune, and with that
tribute forever closed my heart against his seductions.
We never saw any loveliness in the ocean after that.
Monday morning we rolled in the trough of the sea,
fearing the breaking of the shaft, and the consequent ingulfing of us all. The afternoon found us at the mouth
of the Mississippi, where a pilot came on board. As




120        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
soon as he sprang on the stairs, he cried out, " port your
helm!" but too late, for in a few minutes we were fast
on the bar, and there we lay, despite the puffings and
groanings of the vast engine. As the owners of the boat
received fifteen hundred dollars per day for the use thereof when in motion, and twelve hundred when at rest,
they were better satisfied with the grounding than were
we, notwithstanding our time was going on just the
same.
On the following evening, we were greeted with a tropical thunderstorm; none of the sharp, loud claps of thunder we were familiar with at home, nor any of the vivid
flashes of lightning, but all was blended noise and fire.
Each clap of thunder would roll and reverberate till followed by another clap, kleeping up one continuous, melancholy, angry din, while the whole atmosphere was so
charged with electricity, that you could scarcely tell
when one flash of lightning ended and the next began.
It was almost unbroken flame. 0! it was grand. In
the midst of the night we drifted out to sea, where we
found ourselves rockinlg next morning, and shivering before a cold wind not unworthy of March at home, and infinitely more penetrating. We got back again to the bar,
and lay there till Friday afternoon, when the New Brunswick, a small ocean Fteamer, came down from New Orleans, and took the soldiers and some of the stores on
board. We left the Illinois, cheering her kind captain,
half cursing her crabbed cooks, glad to bid farewell to
the staff and to the ocean, remembering the latter with
kindness only for the delicious sea-bathing, and the two
days that heaven lent us to show how attractive a home
we may ultimately reach. It is a matter of doubt whether
the Illinois can get over the bar at this season of the
year. Strange that the bar is more of a bar in high
water than at low water. The rushing tide of the Mississippi, now full five miles an hour, brings down so
much more mud than when low; that the bar rises in




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            121
height more rapidly in proportion than the water. Of
course, the river is muddy, but then the water is sweet, so
we have plenty of drink, and though our coffee has an indescribable color, yet it is coffee, and we are satisfied. We
are pretty well over sea-sickness. It does not leave you
weak, but with powers of digestion equal to the consumption of more haid tack than you can masticate. On
board this boat there is no table for officers, and so they
are dependent on our humanity for coffee, hard bread,
and salt beef, those staples of a soldier's larder. Relieved
of the incubus of the frigid staff, a right jolly good time
have we had in coming up the river. The colonels, majors,
and a few captains, filled up the few state-rooms, so the
lieutenants and some of the captains were bedless, save
the floor. Not liking that, they tried to make a night of
it, and to keep all awake. Till about two A. M., they succeeded pretty well, but at last succumbed, finding sleep
more of a necessity than frolic.
Early dawn found us on deck, gazing at Secessia.
Now, green fields, orange groves, palatial mansions, and
slave-cabins fully occupy our attention. Budding trees,
variegated with groves, in which we can see rich, luscious, mouth-watering oranges, make it hard to realize that
this is only the seventh day of February. The contrast
between the homes of the planters and of their laborers,
is suggestive of the fact, that in the ever-during struggle
between the " privileges of the few and the rights of the
many," that victory had here crowned the wrong. And
as I gazed on the river, ten feet higher than the foundations of the houses, kept back only by the levee, I could
but think that -the time was fast coming when the rushing, swelling Mississippi of a Christianized public sentiment would sweep away the levee that avarice, interest,
and indifference had thrown around slavery, and swallow
up the distinctions based on the wrongs of centuries. In
low malarious places, we see many camps, from which
come cheers of welcome.'Twas good to see houses
6




122        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
and green fields, but better still to see the old Flag and
its blue-coated defenders. On we-sail up the river, to
open which, that.the produce of the West may again find
an unobstructed pathway to the markets of the world, is
our mission. We believe it will be the scene of our triumphs, probably of our graves. Be it so; this morally
barren soil needs precious blood to purify and enrich it.




MASSACHUSETIS VOLUNTEERS.          123
LETTER XVIII.
STEAMSHIP NEW BRUNSWICK, February 18, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
My last letter to you found us drawing near to New
Orleans. T. W. Judd, who carried the mail to the office,
and cheered our hearts by bringing us letters from home,
was the only one favored to see the city. lWe saw deserted, rotting levees, frowned on by numerous gunboats,
every thing to denote war and its destructiveness, nothing
to convince us that we were before the great metropolis
of the South-west. Divers pieces of calico and a few carriages pleasantly reminded us of the friends and comforts
of the North. Peddlers brought us pies, apples, and oranges; of the latter, you could get three, as large as pound
apples, for ten cents. You had better believe that those
who had any money left, rapidly invested it in that inviting stock. We tasted oranges for once. Some, who had
put their faith in Uncle Sam's promise of early payment,
and come away penniless, looked on at the feast with looks
that did not say much about re-enlisting. We have been
served shabbily. Many of us are not able to buy tobacco;
and those who have a little of that needful on hand, are
compelled to chew in secret or squander their stock, or
stultify their past generosity by refusing a comrade's appeal.
About 2 P. M. of February 7th, we started up the
river, and reached Carrollton, a town of three thousand
inhabitants, seven miles above New Orleans, with which
it is connected by railroad. We were somewhat disappointed in the Father of Rivers. He rolls along in muddy




124         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
majesty (above the mouth of the Missouri he is as clear as
the Hudson), and at a tremendous pace, but he is smaller,
narrower than we expected, in no place more than two.
thirds of a mile wide. He is a capricious fellow, rising
above his ordinary level, in the spring, at New Orleans,
thirteen feet, and at Cairo sixty feet, digging out huge
tracks on one side, and yielding up a part of his domain
on the other. He spawns a species of fiddlers, a crab-like
fish, who by honey-combing the lev6es, get up a dance of
mad waters, far from agreeable to men who live ten feet
below the surface thereof.
On reaching Carrollton, we were met by quite a number
of the Thirty-first Massachusetts. It was a truly pleasant reunion. I then took my first trip in Secessia-Northrup and I made for an oyster-saloon. For a stew, we
were each charged forty cents. Every thing salable is
on the same scale. They have no pennies here, nothing
less than " picayunes," which formerly meant six and onequarter cents each, but are now reduced to five cents.
Perchance this little custom is the basis of the reputation
Southerners have for generosity. They are not generous
with their money, only reckless. Yearly, that little town
of Boston contributes more to. charitable and religious
purposes than the whole South. I find the negroes are
alike reckless as their masters, charging the most exorbitant prices for all they do or sell, and squandering their
money with a perfect looseness. -Being compelled to buy
five cents' worth or n/othing, leads to this careless improvidence.
Most of us have prepared ourselves for this warm clime
by having our heads sheared, so we look ugly enough to
scare the long-haired Southrons. The residents here are
mainly Germans. Occasionally you meet a native, who,
with his fierce eyes, long hair, light-sleeyed, short-tail
coat, closely-fitting pants, and shining black-silk hat, looks
as if he belonged to another race. Some of' these natives
have a low, meanf scowl on their faces, and would be dan



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          125
gerous if their courage were equal to their fierceness.
They are generally taller, and larger-boned than we are.
Men, women, and children, are sallow. Any careful observer would see that, for real grit, manly defiance, persevering valor, we are almost infinitely superior. There
may be Southern gentlemen. I have as yet seen no one
that had a right to answer to that call. I have seen men
of wealth, but they looked like a cross between the Spanish brigand and the overseer; Gazing at them is apt to
make you doubt whether it is possible or desirable to
live in peace with them. I suppose the chivalry are all
in the army. Everybody here looks lazy.
Of course I strolled around among the darkeys, talking
with nearly every one I met about slavery and freedom,
and trying to find him who preferred the former to the
latter. I have not yet succeeded. I shall continue my
search.'There are a good many genuine Africans here.
I learn that they came down from up the river. The resident negroes are nearly all mulattoes and quadroons,
some of whom are handsome. The women seem proud
of their almost white children, holding the fruit of their
adultery as an evidence of their charms. Judging by the
extreme hideousness of some of these mothers, I was
led to conclude that Southern passion was superior to
Southern taste. No wonder that the poor wenches blush
not. They have never been taught the sacredness of
woman's virtue. If they bring a free child into the
world, they may be cursed for increasing a hated and
feared class; if they bring forth a slave-child, they are
praised, but in neither case taught that God has said,
"' Thou shalt not commit adultery."  The Southern code
strikes out the "4 not," arid emphasizes the "shalt."  Men
and women alike testify to the brutal lust of the whites,
it being no uncommon thing for the master or overseer
to drive the husband from his bed and take his place, or
for women * be fearfully scarred, who through caprice
or principle refuse their adulterous embraqo. Enceinte




1206       LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
women are often whipped. They are laid with their faces to
the ground, which is so excavated as not to endanger the
life of the child. Slavery alone could present such an instance of hellish ferocity and avarice. I wish that it could
be said that amalgamation is confined to the Southerners.
I fear it is not so. I saw an old woman of seventy on
the levee, who had come down from up the river. On
inquiring how she supported herself in freedom, she said
she had been a midwife at one of the camps. " idwife
at camp! what on earth do soldiers in camp need midwives for?"  "Oh!" said she, "the darkey women will
fall in love with the Yankee soldiers, and I have to take
care of the little mules."  Alas for human nature! With
others, I have always considered the negro as peculiarly
sensual. If so, phrenology is a lie. The heads of themen are very deficient in animal force, the major part being above and in front of the ears. Singular, but, true;
the heads of the women indicate great animal passions.
Difference in toil and exposure will hardly account for
this difference.
While at Carrollton, a whole colony of contrabands
were moved there. I saw a girl of seventeen going
through all the antics of a monkey or a boy of six years.
That is the only specimen of the rollicking, joyous, devilmay-care African I have seen. I had no doubt that the
negroes, if not a happy race, were at least careless and
light-hearted. Observation begins to compel me to rewrite
my former theories, and to set down their joyousness and
happiness as a plantation lie. I have been with them a
great deal, and never before saw so much of gloom, despondency, and listlessness. I saw no banjo, heard none
but solemn songs. In church, or in the street, they impress me with a great sadness. They are a sombre, not
a happy. race. I attended one of their class and prayer
meetings at Carrollton, and in speaking to them, incidentally said, " The first gun fired at Fort Sumter cracked the




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          i 27
chain of every slave in the land." I was surprised at the
response. " Glory! Hallelujah!" sounded from all parts
of the house. Old men cried, clapped their handss, and
all gathered round me, as if I were an angel of good tidings. With no gentle pressure they shook my hand, almost hugged me, and called down all manner of benedictions on my head. Yet they do not appreciate or care for
freedom! In every prayer, blessings were invoked for
our officers and soldiers, and especially for our sick. We
left Carrollton about 1 A. M., the 17th inst. Getting on
the boat at that late hour, Captain Chaffee, a thorough
anti-slavery soldier, heard a plaintive voice singing, " Am
I a soldier of the cross," and "don't forget to pray."
He followed the voice, and was led to an old negro woman. She told him she came there to pray for our success, and that God would make us soldiers of the cross.
Poor old woman! freedom would benefit her but little,
but in the thick darkness she was praying for it, and seeing in us God's agents to usher in the wished-for day.
She was also praying that we might be morally prepared
to share in its triumphs. Yet, the negro does not desire
freedom! On our way up from Carrollton, one got the
wood-pile between him and the whites, and then vigorously waved his hat in welcome. It was our only welcome. Tears, half of anger, half of joy, filled my eyes;
and if there were another half, half of intense. determination to do something to give that negro the right to greet
the old flag before all the world, with none to molest or
make him afraid. Talk about a race having such intense,
unsatisfied longings as a happy race! Absurd! Thank
God, the old flag now means freedom to all under its
folds.
" Fremont is music. For that or for some other reason,
every negro remembers the name.  They may know
nothing about Lincoln or his proclamation, but they know
something about Fremont. That glorious campaign, in




128        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
which he was standard-bearer, a campaign of principles,
a campaign when Seward was radical, and Lincoln was
stepping up to the height of January 1st, 1863, stirred up
alike every fear of the master, and every hope of the
slave. Fremont was the North star brought down to
the Gulf, their first and enduring love. 0, to see him
range the South! Then the end were at hand.
" Do not think I have the negrophobia. Remember this
is my first letter from the land of Slavery. Subsequent
letters will be less dark than this, but in nearly all the
inevitable negro will-appear. Sambo was the occasion
of this war. Sambo is in the fence. Sambo will not
down, and poor correspondent would I be if I ignored
Sambo. _He will wind up the war. For the present,
farewell to Sambo."
On Sunday, the 8th instant, Colonel Sumner led the
regiment through the streets of Carrollton. Fifteen days
on shipboard made the march very pleasant. Save the
negroes going to church, you would not imagine that it
were Sunday. Sunday here means business, frolic, and
holiday. The days are divided into mornings, evenings,
and nights; afternoon is an unmeaning word.
On Monday, the 9th, at five P. M., we encamped about
half a mile from the river, on ground as flat as a board.
Scarce of tents, the boys piled in seven or eight thick, involving the necessity of sleeping two deep. We got our
tents up, when orders came for us to start at once up the
river. Some of our goods being on the Illinois, secured
us a respite. Flies (in February) and spiders as large as
walnuts, are a part of our reminiscences of Carrollton.
Being at the closing up of the rainy season, we had half
a dozen showers daily. The smallest cloud baptized us,
and we obtained a deeper insight into mud than ever before. Strong must be your soles if you did not leave
them.  Dig down eighteen inches, and you reached
water. The air was so warm, that many abandoned their
under-clothes, a hazardous experiment where the ground




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         129
is very damp, and fogs so heavy that the sun does not
rise till near noon. Though again favored to eat soft
bread, we had no cook-houses, few cooking-utensils, and
our drink was Mississippi water, of the consistence of
thin mud, and the color of strong lemonade. Diarrhcea
seized nearly all of us, and fever followed hard after-as
not even at Camp Briggs were our streets kept clean, being
not merely a matter of pride and taste, but of health, of life.
Last Sunday we had a rain. Thunder and lightning
accompanied it. We never witnessed such before. The
wind strained every tent-cord, and overturned the sutler's tent. Round every field there was a ditch and a
bank three or four feet high. The rain filled up the
ditch, and began to reach our tent-floors. Co. A, occupying the lowest part of the ground, had a strange experience. As the rain increased, they would raise their floors
till they could raise them no higher, and then perch themselves on cracker-boxes, with feet on high, a position that
had one advantage. They were willing to rise early next
morning. The water filled up the whole camp, being on
an average two to three feet deep. Next morning we
found no traces of the storm save wet blankets, damp
soldiers, and some surface mud. Where that water went
to, we never could imagine. It could not have been absorbed; for, before the rain, digging eighteen inches
would bring you to the water. Some say that all the
ditches slope towards Lake Ponchartrain, where there is a
powerful engine to throw the water over the levee.
Powerful indeed must be that engine.
On the 13th, we witnessed the burial of a soldier from
New Hampshire. The first we had seen, it impressed us
solemnly. First, went the brass band, playing a solemn
dirge, then the hearse or ambulance (a two-wheeled cart
with a linen cover, used for conveying sick, wounded,
and dead, looking like a baker's cart), and then twelve
soldiers with reversed guns. They marched very slowly to the grave, where they buried their comrade; and
6*




130         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
having fired three volleys over his grave, returned to the
lively music of the band. The solemnity was so oppressive, that I could see great propriety in banishing the
gloom by stirring, cheerful music. I went to the soldier's cemetery. The graves are less than two feet deep,
of which six inches are water, rendering it necessary to
borie holes, or put stones in the coffin to sink it. Each
grave is marked by a head-board, on which the name,
company, and regiment of the dead, are marked. An officer keeps a record of the cemetery, to enable those who
may wish to exhume the remains of their friends, to ascertain their respective graves. Among the wooden headboards was a marble stone, a token of a brother's affection. On many of these were inscriptions. I copied
this one:
"Weep not for m6, my wife and infants dear;
For I am not dead, but sleeping here;
So after me no sorrow take,
But love my infants for my sake."
Poor, dear fellow! he was not much of a poet, but the
rude lines were touching. They told where his dying
thoughts were turned, and how the patriot was lost in
the husband, the father. Many New England homes are
linked to that graveyard with chains of sadness. Each
grave has its own unwritten history of hopes and joys offered up for a nation's life and purity. That cemetery is
fast being filled up, and it is only a small one of hundreds. So let it be, if God's truth can only thus be maintained.  Gloomy are our recollections of Carrollton. It
is truly a fever-spot. This country is not fit for the residence of man. Leave it for a decade of centuries, and
geological changes may render it habitable. At present,
it is well termed the "graveyard of the South-west."
One of our dead lies in the cemetery at Carrollton, William W. Rossiter, (B) Richmond. He was a farmer-boy
of eighteen years of age. He died on the morning of the




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          131
seventeenth, of typhoid fever. Fortunately, his brothers
were allowed to be with him in his dying hours. Thus
went down to the grave the Benjamin of the flock. He
was a nice, good, moral boy, full of life, and liked by all.
Another New England home to be darkened. We loft
some of our sick behind us-sick, we fear, unto death.
We left them among strangers. William Deming (H)
died on board the Illinois, the eighth instant. His disease
was of the nature of an abscess in the head. He was a
young farmer from Sandisfield, aged twenty-four years.
A fine man, a much-esteemed citizen, a soldier always
willing to do his best, he died not alone, for some of his
comrades remained on the ship and ministered to him.
He was buried on one of the islands at the mouth of the
Mississippi. We expect that that mighty river will mark
our triumphs, but we did not expect it so soon to mark
our burials.
On last Sunday, Colonel Bartlett read to the regiment
the church service. His rich voice was in unison with
the richness and majesty of that liturgy, producing so
good an effect that we the more earnestly desired to
have the labors of a good chaplain. That we are without a chaplain is not the fault of Governor Andrew, for,
on the representation to him of our lack in that respect,
he requested our colonel to appoint one, or to give him
authority to do so. The following extract from Colonel
Bartlett's letter in reply, shows his position relative to
this important matter:
" The position of chaplain I consider one of the most
difficult to fill, and I have seen such evils follow from the
presence of inefficient or unworthy chaplains (not in Massachusetts regiments), that I have hesitated to nominate
any one for that position, unless I found some one who
was qualified, both in character and ability. Such a one
has not offered yet. Your correspondent is misinformed
as to the observance of the Sabbath in this regiment.
There are the regular duties of the day, such as' guard



132         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
mounting,''Sunday morning inspection,' and' dress parade,' which are never omitted, but besides these it is a
day of rest.
" I have always afforded every opportunity for the men
to attend divine worship on that day. I have also read
the services myself on that day, to all who desired to attend, it being one of the duties of the commanding officer in the absence of a chaplain."
I don't wonder that the colonel hesitates in this matter. Before the weeding-out process, many of the chaplains were a disgrace to the service, and productive of
evil only. Better no chaplain than one who is immoral,
lazy, or indifferent. MAen have filled that position who,
at home, could never get or keep a charge, or whose reputations stood in great need of repairs. I know a chaplain of fourteen months' standing, who has never preached
a sermon to, or held a prayer-meeting in, his regiment.
One bright Sunday morning, I attended services at a neighboring camp, and there were not forty of that chaplain's
men present.  No duties prevented their attendance.
Be assured, he neglected his duty. Let a chaplain do
his work well, and he will bind the hearts of the men to
him, and save souls from death. We want earnest, brave
men, men who will carry the gospel to the battle-field,
men like that monk who attended Marmion on Flodden
field"A pious man whom duty brought
To dubious verge of battle fought,
To shrive the dying, bless the dead."
Well, if not fated to be ministered to as we desire, we
may thank our colonel that no unworthy representative
of the Master shall make us distrust the sacred profession,
and sow seeds of infidelity in our hearts. If not blessed
with one who might be to us a " savor of life unto life,"
we are not to be cursed with him who would be a " savor ot death unto death."
On Monday, at 4 P. m., we got orders to go up the




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          133
river, and it was Tuesday 4 A. M., before the troops were
on board. Twelve hours in the mud is military, but not
pleasant. Leaving Carrollton, we left no regrets, save
that we had to bid farewell to our cooking-ranges, and
to find out what luxury there is in food of which smoke
is a large ingredient. Where we are going, we know not;
perchance to battle. Already some have shown symptoms of bullet-fever, a fever which really prostrates a
man. Rallying from that, he may be the bravest of the
brave.  Imagination presenting danger in every form,
he will find the reality so much less than he feared, that
he will not be nearly so apt to be panic-stricken as he
who meets that experience for the first time in the presence of the foe.  This is the fiery baptism of battle.
Dealing out cartridges somewhat strengthens the impression that we are nearing the hour when men's souls and
reputations will be tried. Our trip up the river has been
very pleasant, though all hands have been reduced to
planks for beds, and for food to the primitive hard tack, salt
beef, and coffee. Many of the mansions lining the river
are all we have imagined of Southern wealth and luxury.
The whitewashed slave-cabins looked comfortable.
On Tuesday evening, we anchored off Donaldsonville,
a small, war-wrecked village. The fog was so great-that
we feared travelling in the dark would result in our runfing into a bar or snag, and a probable visit from guerillas. So we rested under the guns of Fort Butler, a
neat, trim-looking citadel, and heard -the sunset gun, and
saw the descending flag, all which was to us novel and
warlike. Quite a number of gunboats are-wending their
way up the river; so perchance, before another mail-day
rolls round, we may have struck a blow for God and our
native land.
12




134         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XIX.
CAMP BANKS, BATON ROUGE, LA., February 21, 1863.
Mi  DEAR L.:
To date a letter from " Camp Banks" again, brings to
mind our life on Long Island, but here we are with
balmy. airs, budding trees, and opening gardens. We
reached this city, the capital of Louisiana, about Wednesday noon. The high bluff on which the city is built
is an agreeable contrast to the fever level of Carrollton.
Our camp is about one and a half miles east of the river,
from which we draw our water. Poor as it is, it is more
wholesome than well-water. The citizens generally use
cistern-water. Our camping-ground was once occupied
by the rebels for a similar purpose. A battle was fought
here last August, and the trees, show the effect of shot
and shell, while bones of animals and of men testify that
we gained no bloodless victory. The boys have brought
several unexploded shells into camp, one weighing one
hundred and thirty-seven pounds; a substantial reason
for the rebels' fear of gunboats. We have the best
ground for a camp in the neighborhood, sloping so as to
remove all fears of being again drowned out. Near it is
our parade-ground, a vast field of several hundred acres.
Here we have brigade drills, the regiment being now
merged into the brigade. We belong to the First Brigade,
First Division, which consists of the Hundred and Sixteenth New York, Forty-eighth, Forty-ninth Massachusetts, and the Twenty-first Maine. Colonel Chapin, of the
Hundred and Sixteenth New York, is our acting brigadier. He had experience and wounds on the Potomac,
and is considered reliable and worthy. Our major-general is C. C. Augur, an old West-Pointer, and reputed to




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          1i35
be one of our best generals. Banks has gathered around
him men of fine military ability. Augur, Grover, Emory,
Sherman, Weitzel, Arnold, form a brilliant constellation.
In a recent division review, we saw none superior to our
own Forty-ninth. I have not yet seen its physical equal.
Now we are living a military life. Guards no longer
slouch along with unloaded guns, or run to their tents
when off their beats, or are careless as to who pass or
repass. All that is altered. Within a few miles is the
enemy, so sentinels feel that in their watchfulness the
safety of many lives depends. You will seldom hear that
it is such an hour of the day, but it is just before or after
reveille, or guard-mount, or dress-parade, or roll-call, or
taps. Watches are almost superfluous. To our other
duties is now superadded that of picket. A certain number of each regiment are detailed daily for this important work. The picket-lines extend from river to river,
forming a semicircle of five or six miles. The pickets
carry all their traps with them, so as to be ready to join
in march, attack, or retreat, at a moment's notice. Three
occupy a post. In daytime, one stands guard, and the
others rest; but at night, only one rests at a time. In
case of an attack, they fire two signal-guns to prepare
their camps for action, and then fall back on the reserve
pickets. If practicable, resistance is here made to the
advancing enemy; if not practicable, they retreat to the
camp, firing their guns. Our nearest pickets are but
half a mile from us, too near to give us time to " fall in"
if they were beat back by a superior force; but there are
cavalry pickets or scouts much farther in advance, so we
sleep securely, though the sudden firing of two guns in
quick succession, the other night, rather startled us.
Picket-work has some charms about it, and also many
inconveniences and dangers.   Occasionally, they are
fired into by guerillas. There is some romantic and patriotic politeness about army-life. While the pickets file
past the " field-officer of the day," on their way to their




136        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTII
respective posts, he remains uncovered, as if to say,
"Guardians of an army's safety, you go nearest the foe
to watch over and protect us, and through us, the nation;
yours is the post of danger and of honor; with uncovered
head I salute you." While sentinels around the camp
are called  quarter-guards," these are known as " grand
g7uards." No one is allowed to pass the pickets without
a permit from head-quarters. Not unfrequlently some
proud dame, who has stayed beyond her allotted time,
presents herself to the officer of the picket, and is consequently escorted by a gallant blue-coat to the provost
marshal. Judging by her sullen demeanor, she does not
appreciate the gallantry. More amusing is it to see one
of our boys chaperone some greasy African wench to the
same officer. All along the road he will be met with sallies of humor that keep his blushing damsel on the broad
grin. Our sense of the ludicrous is apt to make us forget the deference due to woman, no matter what her
color.'Twould argue a higher self-respect, did the
damsel meet the humor with anger rather than with
mirth. It is hard to have self-respect when you have
never enjoyed the respect of others.
Baton Rouge is quite a pretty place of some four thousand inhabitants, mainly situated on a bluff, about forty
feet above high-water level. The streets are broad,
regular, shaded, and now clean. Save the penitentiary, it
has but two large buildings, one of them now in ruins;
yet, even in ruins, the State-House is beautiful, especially
to Northern eyes, for the yard is as green as are ours in
-June. It is a grand and beautiful wreck. Here was
fought the battle of Louisiana Secession, and treason triumphed. Then came the battle of last August, and treason
was vanquished, and the old flag once more waved over
the pride of Louisiana. Soldiers, Union and rebel, were
stationed there when the building was fired. How or by
whom,'no one knows. Each side accuses the other of the
deed. The magnificent library the fine furniture, the




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS;           13 7
treasures of art, were all consumed. Only Powers' statue
of Washington was rescued from the flames. Naught now
remains but the massive and beautiful frame.  Lower
down the river stands the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, a
long white building with large wings. It is four stories
high, and round the entire building run two deep verandas,
which, with the spacious rooms, admirably adapt it for a
hospital. Like the State-House, the yard is enclosed with
a fine iron fence, and filled with all kinds of flowers and
shrubbery. The dwelling-houses are mostly one story in
height, with an attic, destitue of cellars, which cause the
buildings to rot, and nearly every one boasts a deep piazza,
the best-patronized part of the house. As the doors are
generally open in the middle of the day, we can seq how
Southern houses are furnished, which is in a style very
inferior to corresponding houses in the North. Carpets
are few in number, and the walls are seldom papered. It
is not unusual to see pianos in rooms thus destitute. ~ Coolness and cleanliness are, at least, secured. Green shutters
are attached to doors and windows to keep out the heat.
The beauty of their gardens is shut in from the view of
outsiders by high fences, which, with the howlings of
dogs inside, indirectly refer to the peculiar institution.
The bed is the great feature of the room, being of the
high, solid posters and heavy top-pieces of the eighteenth
century. They are often eight feet long by six feet wide.
The neighboring woods supply them with moss, which,
when dried, makes the best of mattresses. The rods and
rings for curtains point to probable mosquitoes, of which,
they say, they have some, but aver they are not as bad
here as elsewhere. I have heard that same remark in
latitudes where I could scarcely discern the color of my
horse for the pestiferous hordes, so I draw less comfort
from their statement than do others. The city boasts four
churches, one of which, the Methodist, is a handsome and
commodious edifice. There are occasional services in the
Episcopal, and regular services in the Catholic church;




138        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
otherwise you must worship in the Methodist church, now
under the care of the negroes. Judging from the number
of stores, this was once quite a business place. Most of
those now occupied are in the hands of Northern men, who
keep a poor stock, but are not deficient in their charges.
Take away the trees and shrubbery, and youicannot find
what you would term a handsome place, in town. Few,
who can afford plantations, live in cities, save doctors,
lawyers, ministers, and merchants. The wealth is in the
country, to which towns are the merest adjuncts; landowning, and consequent slave-owning, is the criterion of
respectability. Who own the land will be the rulers.
Hence the home-power of Southerners, hence their opposition to homestead-bills. Even in England, an extensive
land-owner, though a parvenu, has more local influence
than an acreless lord, though in his veins runs the blood
of all the Howards. The North knows little or nothing of
the power of leaders. We thank our free schools for it;
we ought also to thank that Providence which has divided
the soil among many owners. Perchance the latter flows
from the former blessing. Feudal South can only be republicanized by impoverishing the great landlords. The
war will do, is doing that. Then democracy will gravitate
to the count'y, and the aristocracy to towns and cities.
The north part of the city is ornamented by the arsenal
buildings and grounds. They are pleasantly situated, and
quite spacious. Thanks to the loyalty of Secretary Floyd,
they were well filled with - arms and munitions of war.
Of course the rebels seized all. Around the arsenal a series
of earthworks are being thrown up, and near by is Fort
Williams, which, when finished, will enable us to hold this
place with comparatively few men. Butler, Banks, or
somebody else, has been and gone and done it. Negro
regiments are actually being gathered together at the
arsenal. If they are free, why not let them fight to preserve that freedom? We are beginning to laugh at ourselves, that we ever hesitated in this matter.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           139
Saving the lack of boards for tent-flooring, we are
pretty comfortable. Lumber is hard to get, at it here, and
many have found a better quality than that usually furnished by the government, thlough some dismantled
houses may bear testimony to the violation of orders.
Mahogany is a tropical product, and we find it makes good
tables, shelves, and floors. For a day or two we could
getno bread, and the quartermaster had to receive some
fervent blessings. Get soldiers away from the refinements of life and doom them to camp inactivity, and they
present to view many evidences of selfishness. Some are
born grumblers; and some who never fed themselves at
home so well as Uncle Sam now feeds them, make it a
rule to snarl at the quantity and quality of their food;
while those who left homes of luxury, take to army fare as
if they had been born to it. Save fresh beef, which finds
its way only to soldiers in the hospital, we are as well fed
as at Camp Briggs. Recently, dried peaches wereqissued
in lieu of rice. Some, greedily devouring all they could
get thereof, would go round complaining that it was not
so bulky and nutritious as rice. We used to worry,
ourselves; now, we let them complain. True, we at
times have pork and salt beef, belonging to the order of
"' animated nature," and it is amusing to see how differently different persons receive it. Some will cry out,
"Look here, cook, it's no use of carrying that to the cookhouse; put it down and give me a whip, and I will drive it
for you;" while others will curse as thieves all connected
with the government. I used to set down the whole race
of quartermasters and commissaries as vampires on the
soldiers, and give unlimited credit to all the complaining
letters from the army. That day is past, for I know that
some of our well-fed regiments are not chary of their censures. Having nothing to read, often nothing to do, their
god is their belly, " and what we shall eat and what we
shall drink" the great questions of their lives. We need
active war to drive back this murmuring devil, and to




140         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
evoke our manliness and heroism. A regimental quartermaster has but little chance to defraud. A shrewd company commissary knows how much his company is entitled
to, and is present at the' delivery of the rations; so that
cheating him is no easy work. After a regiment is brigaded, the medical department drawg for the sick, so that
that main chance of stealing is not open to the quartermaster. When  you rise above a regiment, quartermaster and commissary are distinct officers, the latter
having charge of eatables, and the former of nearly every
other kind of government property.  Here there is a
field for peculation; and when you rise higher to division
and post-quartermasters and commissaries, you get into a
region where fortunes spring up almost as rapidly as
Jonah's gourd, especially if provost-marshals form a part
of the iniquitous firm. The assertion that this war would
have been closed ere this had officials had no opportunity
to trade in sugar, molasses, and cotton, is not entirely without foundation. As vet, General Banks has kept himself
from suspicion, and Butler was too shrewd to do any
thing that his enemies could get hold of; but certainly his
brother owes him a large debt of gratitude for orders that
accidentally made him a millionnaire. Witness this: on
reaching New Orleans, Butler prohibited the circulation
of the notes of various banks.'Tis said that the brother
bought up millions of these notes for a mere song. Soon
after, an order was issued requiring the notes of these
same banks to be received as legal tender, stating that, as
the people had received them in good faith, it was no
more than right that the banks should redeem them to the
extent of the gold in their vaults and the responsibilities
of the stockholders. You see the point.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEEBS.         141
LETTER XX.
CAMP BANKS, BATON ROUGE, La., March 2, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
flow we pity you poor chilled Northerners, who can
see nothing but snow, and hear naught but the rude
blasts of Boreas, while we gaze on green grass, soft skies,
budding trees, and hear the cooings of birds and the ripplings of rivulets! " Ripplings of rivulets 1" I must take
that back, for I don't want my imagination to be so developed under a Southern sun as to produce a result
which you, in the unromantic North, would call " lying."
There are no " rivulets" here, and of course the ripplings
were not in my eye; but somehow there is such a charm
about our life, such an actual luxury in mere living, that
what you have not in reality, you have in imagination.
Rivulets, indeed! nothing like them, except muddy bayous, which are so still and sluggish that I take much
credit to myself for having even imagined'" rivulets."
It takes hills and stones for " rippling rivulets." As for
hills, we have nothing but river cliffs and stones-I have
yet to see the first stone in Louisiana. But it is glorious living here in March. Throw yourself down, half'il shade
and half in sun, and forget your pores are drinking in
fever, and you are almost ready to perpetually divorce
you from the rigid North. We have had a few " right
smart" cool days, and one or two marked with a chill
damp, that enables you - to understand why the halfclothed African thinks that even this is too far North for
his race, and you no longer wonder at the many dropsical specimens you meet, the result of cold; but generally
speaking, we have had weather that only needs perma



142         LIFE WITH THE- FORTY-NINTH
nence to make life a physical paradise. It is worth a few
hours-mark, I don't say days-of sea-sickness, to spend
one of our mornings in these grand woods. Wood here
must be unusually tough, for great oak-branches shoot
out from the trunk from sixty to eighty feet, almost horizontally.  Pendent from every branch, for eight or ten
feet, is the thick, rich moss, or tillandsia, which gives to
the forests such a weird, antique look. Get in deep
enough to shut out sights and sounds of men, and you
can fancy yourself an inhabitant of the antediluvian
world. Imagine -these branches, with their parasites on
either side of a stream, down which you are gently
gliding, and you will agree with Epicurus that living
means simply enjoying. Some of these woodland views
awaken in you a protest against all activity; and when,
imbued with the delicious torpor, you return to meet
cool-eyed firm-nerved Northerners, you know that they
must master the denizens of such scenes.
We make use of this fine weather to do up our washing. I have been washing some flannel, and wringing
out the same. I don't think I will ever complain of the
quantity or quality of another wash-day dinner; and, as
soon as I get home, my women folks must have a clotheswringer. Cook and wash and mend for yourself a few
months, and you will never again think woman's work
is easy, and that you could do the same in half the time
she takes. If our washing does not result in whitening
our clothes, it, at least, purifies them, and stays the development of a peculiar class of rebels, who have already been sufficiently troublesome.
If the paymaster should visit us, we could for a while
vary our diet, and only for " a while," with steak at fifty,
butter at sixty, cheese at forty cents per pound; eggs at
a dollar a dozen, and other edibles in proportion. Speaking of these things reminds me of a clean, cool, spacious
market-house, which I thought was no longer used, for I
never saw a speck of food in it. They do their market



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         143
ing here between daybreak and sunrise. They commence
by drinking drip-coffee from cups about the size of those
we once used when soldiering was only playing, for
which they pay the reasotnable sum of ten cents each.
Vegetables are not weighed or measured, but sold by
the plateful, while beef-steak does not refer to any particular parts of the defunct animal, but rather to the
whole carcass, finding it, as they do, from the neck to the
tail, and selling it for from twenty-five to fifty cents per
pound. Men who have graduated on hard bread may
attack these steaks with some hope of ultimate success,
but I could hardly recommend the business to those who
have not cut their eye-teeth. Captain Morey has been
to New Orleans and brought back with him out ranges.
He has been very kind to his men, but I doubt if he ever
did so kind a deed before. Instead of all bread, we draw
part flour, and visions of slap-jacks and sirup once more
rise before us.' Drill" means work now. The company-drill in the
morning, and the brigade-drill in the afternoon, fill up
nearly six hours of the day, and the boys wilt under it.
They have been in the habit of having their systems
locked up with the cold till May; and this early thawing
out produces " Spring fever," accompanied with much of
diarrhuea and some symptoms of typhoid. We report one
hundred and fifteen sick, few of them seriously ill, while
the great majority are well enough to stay in their
" quarters." Poison lurks in the smile of beauty. Throw
yourself down on the ground, though in full glare of the
sun, keep up this habit, and you do not contract a cold
as in the North, but a fever. The ground-damp is our
enemy. It is hard to convince the'tired soldier that there
is danger, ay, death, in lying down on that sun-heated,
dry ground. He believes it when he finds his last farewell to loved ones was final. Bad air, bad water, kills
many, but the earth-damp is the one great scourge.
Breathe poison, eat poison, and the lungs, the stomach,




144        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
with the aid of open pores, will soon throw it off; but absorb poison through the pores, and a visit to the hospital is almost inevitable. We left Nelson Webster, of
Company' E, at Carrollton, prostrate with typhoid fever.
He died there on the 20th of February, aged twentyone years. He was, perchance, the stoutest man in the
regiments but of his company he is the first to die, and
of the regiment the seventh. These stalwart ones break,
they cannot bend. He has two brothers in the army. A
nice man, a good soldier, a young husband, has gone.
Aged parents, a lonely wife, will mourn for him, and learn
as we but faintly can, the terrible expensiveness of war.
Happy, if they can so scan the glory of the blood-bought
future as to say, " This war pays."
We are anxiously waiting for a mail from Berkshire.
"Waiting for letters" has a world of meaning now.
When the first mail comes, we will seem nearer home.
Now, there are the two thousand unbridged miles between us and loved ones. As many of us are moneyless,
and as ~tamps cannot be had for love or money, we can
appreciate the kindly wisdom of Congress in allowing
staff-officers to frank our letters, leaving the recipients to
pay the postage. Newsboys bring us New York papers,
for which they only charge twenty-five cents. With so
little to read, paying a quarter for a paper ensures such
a reading as newspapers seldom get.
I attended religious services at the camp of the Fortyeighth Massachusetts last Sunday. Few were present,
and on the parade-ground a battery was firing. Strange
thundering of God's truth and cannon! Not so strange
if we keep in mind that the " truth" is the parent of the
" cannons." Those cannon would have remained in the
ore-bed, had men been willing to bury truth.  Now,
Truth seeks to send her message by cannon where she cannot send it without.
We have established a Masonic Lodge, so as to make
Louisiana seem as much like home as possible. Captain




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         145
Morey is W. M.; Lieutenant Kniffin, S. W; Captain
Train., J.' W.; Lieutenant Tucker, Secretary; Major Plunkett, Treasurer; Colonel Sumner, S. D.; and Quartermaster Brewster, J. D. It is called " Berkshire Camp Army
Lodge.". We meet in the Masonic Hall, where we hope to
have many pleasant " communications," and properly induct candidates into those mysteries which have never
made any worse, but have benefited many. Once get into a Lodge, and you have the best style of equality. The
major-general enters without noticing you, and perchance
does not notice you after you leave the hall; but while in
the hall, all distinctions are merged in the common title
" Brother," and his excellency may find the private his
masonic superior, and respectfully salute him as such.
Masonry says:
"The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
A man's a man for a' that."
The hegira of females'has placed the negroes in comfortable, well-furnished houses. As confiscated property,
who has a better right to it than they? They certainly
hugely enjoy it. They occupy the houses with the consent of the provost-marshal. Many of the men are in the
government employ; some keep restaurants, while the
women board officers for ten dollars a week, and wash.
clothes for a dollar per dozen. The heavens drop fatness
on them.
Last Sunday, I attended the Methodist church.  The.negroes fitted up the basement for their own use; but,
now, in the absence of the whites, they worship in the
body of the church. The pastor of the church is somewhere within the rebel lines. I went into the SundayschooL A touching scene it was, to see those who could
barely spell teaching those who know not the merest
rudiments of learning. I saw in it a race, a nation struggling up to intelligence and nationality. The gate of
education, so long ruthlessly closed against them, was
7




,146       LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
gradually being opened. Once open, they step into that
temple whose inspiration is freedom. Happy for them,
they enter it through the Gospel gate, that the light which
will show them their wrongs will also show them the
Great Sufferer, who exclaimed, " Father!.forgive them,
they know not what they do." Well for the slaves, well
for the nation, well indeed for the oppressors, that the
enlightening of the bond is in the hands of Christian
teachers! -We need never fear a repetition of the horrors of St. Domingo, unless the slaveocracy shall madly
attempt the re-enslavetment of the enfranchised.
Seeing an intelligent mulatto woman, I asked her if
certain white children were really negroes. She said they
were, and then freely spoke of the intercourse between
the whites and blacks. "You can see," said she, "by
my color, that my mother was not a true woman, but she
warned me, and by God's grace I have been preserved
from the horrors of prostitution." Trained up in the
family of a pious Northern Presbyterian minister, who
obtained his slaves by marriage, yet treated them like immortal beings, she had many advantages, and saw but
the bright side of the curse, if a curse can have a bright
side. Yet, her statements but increased its heinousness.
Often women who were members of the church, had to
be expelled for adultery. The ladies of the South were
well aware of their husbands' unfaithfulness, and it was
no uncommon thing for these mothers to be whipped to
satisfy the rage and jealousy of their mistresses. She also stated that, until a few years past, the negroes were
denied religious instruction. I guess she spoke truly, for
I have heard them again and again, in prayers and testimonies, thank God that now they were privileged to worship him with none to molest or to make'them afraid.
Instead of spiritual training and plantation churches, they
were whipped for holding prayer-meetings in their cabins, and compelled to pray in secret. Thus fades away
another "plantation lie."




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          147
Wild and emotional as are the negroes in their religious meetings, they forget not that politeness which forms
so prominent a part of their nature. If they leave a prayer
meeting before its close, they will shake hands with
the preachers, and then bow alternately to the men and
women, bowing to their own sex last. Say that they
chafe not at their fetters! When living in the South,
I often noticed they met the whites moodily, but those of
their own color with a politeness bordering on the extravagant. No Frenchman can excel the darkey beau in
grimaces and politeness, but in nine cases out of ten that
same beau would pass you with indifference or a sullen
courtesy.
They are not as quiet in church as you might desire.
If they want to leave or enter, they do so at any time
during services, save the service of prayer, in which they
all kneel. If the preacher gets up the " rousements," they
think the sermon will do; but the prayer-meeting, with
its singing and praying, is their ideal of worship. Here
they give full vent to. their mingled excitement and devotion, by shouting, clapping of hands, and jumping. Solemn and grotesque is the scene. In the regular services
the preacher reads two lines of the hymn, which, when
sung, is followed by reading two more, and so on till that
service is ended. Unable to read, and few having hymnbooks, this plan secures congregational singing, but makes
sad havoc with the music. I never like the singing of
negroes. They rarely rise above a minor, and that slow
and full of sadness. In their prayer-meetings, any one
can start a hymn of his own choosing; and though they
frequently grow wild and excited in singing it, or some
impromptu hymn, it is more a loud wail than a burst of
joyous melody. Rely on it, there is a conscious burden
on their hearts. They are gifted in prayer.: Passages of
the truest eloquence could be culled therefrom.  Often
the whole audience is moved with a seeming joy as they
praise God for his mercies, but that joy does not spring




148        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINI 
from thanking him for home, wife, children, but because
he has delivered them from temptations and enabled them
to endure sorrows. It is a mournjfl joy. When praying about their enslaved condition, or for the dying, or
for the salvation of poor sinners, they unitedly break out
into the most plaintive chorus imaginable.  I can't describe it, but.to my dying hour I shall remember it. It
seemed like the incarnation of sadness. I could think
of nothing but a mother in heaven wailing for her
lost son. Sometimes it would come from the lips of one
or two, or, as all were united in sympathy, it would spring
spontaneously from all in complete harmony, making rolling billows of oppressive sadness. "Billows of sadness"
seems like a very foolish expression, but it did appear to
me as if every heart was a pool of grief, and that some
thought, too deep for tears, had merged those pools into
an agitated stream. Almost like. a nightmare it clings
to me, ever presenting depths of sadness and resignation
beyond my conception.
Negroes are dressy, and some dress in good taste.
The men are attired as poor men generally are, yet all
looked clean, and some aped the dandy; while the negro
guards, clothed in their new uniforms, with' bright bayonets at their side, seemed too proud and happy to be
dangerous. Most of the women wear turbans of Madras
handkerchiefs, and wonderfully becoming they are. I
saw one (woman I mean, not turban) who might have sat
for an African queen. Many of the mongrels are very
beautiful with their fine hair, straight or wavy, and their
blue or dark eyes, always soft and lustrous, and half concealed by the long lashes. They look more like voluptuous Italians than negroes. A Southern gentleman told
me that they are more docile and affectionate than the
unmixed negro, and less hardy. Mulattoes in the North
are generally scrofulous; not so here, but are prone to
consumption.  He said they were generally unchaste.
Query: if true, is that the result of their physique, or of




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         149
the temptations their good looks invite? I think the latter, for he did not include the men in his assertion.
Speaking of dress; it puzzled me to keep from laughing
right out in meeting, when-some jet-black negress would
appear surmounted by a white bonnet, and clothed in'white, with low neck, half revealing dim charms, and
bare arms finished out with white-kid gloves. A promenade on Broadway would not amuse our Yankee gals
half so much as to attend church here. They would
have to be saturated with piety and propriety, if they
kept on their go-to-meeting faces. A strange race, a tropical race, they surely are. Get accustomed to the exuberant, grotesque forms of beauty'Southern nature
presents, and you begin to believe that the negroes dress
properly and poetically.
Lieutenant Francis and I remained after the services
were closed, and freely talked with several men of mature age, one'of whom was the lame colored preacher,
who gave five thousand dollars for himself and family.
He earned it as a carter. Another one paid his master
eighteen dollars a month for twenty-four years, to privilege him to live with his family. Talking about the negro's inability to support himself was a broad joke to
them. Francis told them, they would have to finish the
war. "That's so," was their emphatic response. They
realized that the time was near for them to come out actively on our side, but they said they wanted to be sure
we could protect them; for those who had favored the
Yankees on their first arrival, fared badly when the
rebels returned. "Make us sure the rebels won't come
back, and we be left alone, and we'll do our part.".I
thought that was cute enough for a prudent white man.
When the lieutenant read to them of the bravery of
Colonel Higginson's negro soldiers, they were glad,
but not surprised; but they'dere surprised when he assured them that, in Massachusetts, the negro had equal
rights with-the white man, and was as eligible to any




150         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
office. While talking with them, it seemed like profaning God's workmanship to doubt the ability of their race
to properly enjoy freedom. Carlyle asserts the. divine
right of man to any position he can possibly fill. This
war latently asserts this of the African.
We have two negro regiments here, and Colonel Sumner, no negrophobist, says they can beat the Forty-ninth
drilling. We have not seen our superior in this department, so that is praise enough. I saw them on-parade.
Great lusty fellows, with breasts like women's; they take
us down as far as brute strength is concerned. When I
contrasted their elastic, vigorous steps with our wan
looks and increasing debility, I felt that they had not
been recruited any too soon. Dressed in full uniform, they
made a fine appearance, and marched as one man. In
mere drill they must beat the whites; for " time," which
is so important an item in drilling, is a universal gift to
them. Their docility, their habits of unquestioning obedience, pre-eminently fit them for soldiers. To a negro
an order means obedience, in spirit as well as letter. In
marching, "eyes front," keeping the eyes fixed so as to
strike the ground about fifteen paces straight ahead, en.
suring head and shoulders carried square, is the direction.
Watch white soldiers when marching through the streets,
and you will find many disobeying that order. These
negroes could hardly have told you that there were any
sidewalks. Properly officered, and they will make the
best soldiers in America. As an intelligent Southerner
said, "Your boys do not know what they are fighting for;
some are afraid they are fighting for the darkey, and
some are afraid they are not fighting for him. The Constitution and the Union, as a rallying-cry, is weak, for it
is not understood.  Our boys have hate, at least, to
nerve them. Yours have not even that strength; and I
have always~contended that interference on the part of
England or France would hurt, more than help, the
South) for it would give you an earnestness, a vindic



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          151
tiveness, that you now lack." These remarks are pertinent, but they do not apply to the negroes.  They know
what they are fighting for. They know they are bursting fromi slavery into freedom; and if freedom be but
dimly understood, their fears teach them the full meaning of slavery-teach them now as never before. Give
them officers who will call out their latent manliness,
who will work on their religious sensibilities, rallying
them to their hopes of freedom, and you can carry them
nearer the gates of hell than any regiment of whites.
They certainly need white officers for a while, and the best
of officers, too, for they will, like children, -lean much on
their superiors. Till they learn to respect their own race
more than they do, colored officers will be a failure.
Government is removing the few who have been appointed.
Negroes have dash about them; more than we have..
" Best soldiers in America;" I mean it. Take Northern soldiers, the equals, perchance, the superiors of their
officers at home, and they see those officers living and
treated as gentlemen, while they, perchance,are cleaning
their sinks, and doing other menial duties. Duties, necessary duties they are, but it requires a constant summoning of self-respect, a constant recollection of the dignity
of the cause, to keep them from underrating themselves,
and from believing that assertion, so often used by the
ignorant, "A private is no better than a dog.". Make
such men corporals and sergeants, and while they gladly
take the positions to secure a little less of toil and exposure, they are insulted if you think that such petty offices dignify them. Not so with-the negro. Put a United
States uniform on his back, and the chattel is a man.
At one bound he springs higher than if one of our privates should be made a captain, and it is a bound to manly self-respect. You can see it in his look. Between
the toiling slave and the soldier is a gulf that nothing
but a god could lift him over. He feels it, his looks
show it. See him on guard. He is erect, not slouching;




152         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
he seems to say, "I am guarding my freedom and my manhood." Make a reasonable excuse, and when no enemy is
near, the white sentinel may pass you, but the negro is
deaf to all. He obeys his orders literally. The whole
machinery of the camp, if controlled by proper officers,
is to him a self-respect.developer. Would you really
bring out more of his manhood, give him a little power,.
make him corporal or sergeant, and he may strut like a
peacock, but he is nevertheless more of a man. If selfrespect, increasing self-respect, is a source.of strength,
of soldierly excellence, then the negro soldier will surpass the white soldier. On the field, where dash maybe
required, he will have no superior; but when call is made
for unflinching courage, where there is no excitement to
sustain, nothing but the firm will, he will show that he
belongs to an inferior race. That does not degrade him;
it is only putting him by the side of the French, the Italian, the Spanish, who, tested by this, must yield the palm
to the American, the English, the German; and tested
by this, all must yield to the sons of New England.
Negro soldiery is an experiment, I grant, but I think
an experiment full of promise. I am glad that Massachusetts is raising a regiment of free negroes. They
need elevation more than their slave-brothers, for, save a
greater knowledge of the vices of civilization, they are
their inferiors. Social caste has degraded them more
than slavery has degraded the bond.
I tell you, my friend, this war means Negro equality.
Don't be startled, and conjure up a mulatto nation as the
result of general amalgamation. That is not " negro equality." If any man wants a black wife, let him have one; it
is only a matter of taste. " Negro equality" is not social
equality, for there is no such thing, even among whites.
There are and always will be classes in society. It is not
political equality. Minors, women, many foreigners, do
not vote, and it would be unwise to allow the negroes to
vote until they are more enlightened. Negro equality is




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          153simply the right to make the most of himself, the right to
secure any position he can fill. It means making a man
of him, and letting him alone. Give him free access to
schools, churches, cars, lectures, ultimately the polls and
offices, and to whatever society he can find access. I
know I always revolt at shaking hands with a darkey, or
sitting by him, but it is a prejudice that should shame
me. Southerners don't feel it, Europeans don't feel it,strange that it should be confined to Northerners. If a
negro can find admittance into Upper Tendom; if he can
secure a college professorship; if the people want him to
be Governor or President; why, my " negro equality" is
to simply say " Amenl" If, with all my start, he outruns me, and secures earth's honors, I say let him do so.
His superiority will not make me really inferior. Negro
equality exists in Europe. The law or popular tyranny
there does not discriminate between him and a white
man. So let it be the world over. So it will be, ere
long, in America. When they have learned to respect
their own race, we will have in the army negro officers.
Now if they should signally honor and benefit the country, it will not do to drive them out of halls, churches,
or from public tables; neither will it do to send such
men down into the servants' quarters, if they should happen to enter your dining-room while you are eating.
Make them Ztree, and you have got to grant them equality. There is no help for it, and the sooner we get rid
of our foolish prejudices, the better for us. In me, those
prejudices are very strong. I can fight for this race more
easily than I can eat with them. Their mouths are generally cleaner and.purer than ours, for they have better
teeth, yet it was a hard dose for me to drink from the
same glass with them at one of their love-feasts. Southern children grow up, play, and eat, and sleep with them,
and kiss them, and those children, when men, may. give
up the playing and eating part, but not the rest. If sa
7*




154        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
many thousands can conquer their prejudices by their
lust, certainly principle will enable us to at least tolerate them.
I have no fears about the manner in which God will
settle this matter. Physically, negroes are of an inferior
or weaker race. *Like the Indians, they will disappear
from before us. Outside of slavery, they do not increase
nearly so rapidly as the whites. Inside'of that dark province they increase wonderfully, because they are stimulated-to add to their number as fast as possible. When
free, each would ask, " Can I afford to marry and to take
charge of a family?"  Many would answer, "no," and
refrain from  marriage. As slaves, they say, "Master
must take care of us and of our children," and children
they freely beget. In the competition of life only the
strong, the healthy, will secure wages sufficient to support families. You see how this will operate to lessen
their ratio of increase. It has done so in the -North.
Free negroes there increase less rapidly than free negroes
in the South. For many years they will add greatly to
their number in the Southern States, but their ratio of
increase will grow less in proportion to the migration of
white workingmen, with whom they will have to compete. They will fade from before us; and if white men,
capable of laboring in Africa, should settle there, as
foreigners have settled here, the same results would be
produced. The strong must rule. They fieed not oppress.
In the mean time, while elevating themselves to the
condition of freemen,. and being prepared as missionaries
to the' inhabitants of tropical climes, they should have
our sympathy. We all admit that they are human-if
we deny them all the virtues of humanity, we attribute
to them all its vices. It is the merest balderdash to say
that they are too lazy to support themselves. I know
they are lazy.: The example of the whites and the cli



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          155
mate make them so. For nine months in the year, men
living in this section must be lazy. Every action will
demand an effort. I am sure we, placed in their position,
would make as few efforts as possible. Hunger will be
stronger than indolence. Give them the pecuniary, social, and mental stimulants that have made us what we
are, and they will follow closely on our heels. In strong
intellectual powers, they will never equal the Anglo-Saxon
and Teutonic races. Who do? Do the Irish, Spanish,
Italian, Portuguese? In the sensuous, and I use that in
its highest meaning, they will surpass us. In music, oratory, painting, fine arts, they will lead most of the nations
of the earth. Had we been crushed for centuries as they
have been, we might have made greater resistance, but,
ceasing to resist, we would have sunk lower than they
have done. There is a national elasticity about them.
Soon adapting themselves to slavery, they will be easily
adapted to freedom. -We have ceased looking on them
as fools, and give them credit for much smartness, mingled
with a good deal of low cunning. A great work is before
them-carving out a nationality. Remember, they have
no storehouse of historic recollections. They can find
nothing in the history of their last fifteen hundred years
to inspire them. We have Plymouth Rock, Bunker
Hill; we have Washington and a host of worthies, each
an inspiration to noble deeds. Take all these away/and
substitute slavery, and we would gather no strength from
our past but vengeance. Were they a ferocious race, that
strength w4uld ere this have opened rivers of blood.
Let this speak: " Every man presenting himself to be recruited, strips to the skin, to be surveyed by the surgeon.
Not one in fifteen is free from. the marks of severe lashing. More than half are rejected because of disability,
arising from lashing with whips and the biting of dogs
on their calves and thighs. - It is frightful. Hundreds of
them have welts on their backs as large as one of your




156         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
largest fingers."  Women's persons would show marks
of the same brutality. The war did not come any too
soon.  The concentrated agony of a million bleeding
hearts, is Freedom's ransom  price. She was fettered
in the house of her friends. As she goes forth on her
glad mission, out of the agony comes a voice, "It is
finished."




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         15 7
LETTER XXI.
CAMP BAzNKS, BATON -ROUGE, I.,
March 13, 1863, 9 P.M. 
MY DEAR L.:
Here we are all ready to march on Port Hudson at a
moment's notice. Last Monday morning, about 1 o'clock,
we were warned -to prepare for a march. Our wedge
tents, with all dress-coats and superfluous baggage, have
been stored in the arsenal buildings, and so we are learning how much comfort can be found in two pieces-of cotton-cloth, about five by six feet, buttoned together over a
ridge pole, without any ends, called shelter-tents. True,
our six-footers have to double up their knees, otherwise'their pedal extremities will be unsheltered, but we find
much more comfort in them than you would suppose.
Two occupy one of these tents, and in marching each
man carries half a tent. It rained hard on Tuesday night,
yet, with rubber blankets topiece out with, we kept dry,
but I fear this frosty night will try our patience and
make us vote shelter tents a lie. Frosty nights, foggy
mornings, and hot days, put us in mind of a Berkshire
September.
This has been a pleasurably exciting week. We are
going to meet the foe, and that brings out our manhood.
Waiting five days is very tedious work, but we have had
reviews, by General Banks, of almost all the brigades and
divisions in the army, to relieve the tedium. I know little about tactics, but I do know no regiment appeared to
better advantage on review than the Forty-ninth. Banks
looks the soldier. He is a splendid horseman. The reviewing general remains uncovered as the colors are borne
by, which are lowered or dipped in his honor. Now
there's some poetry about that.




1 8        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Some of the brigades are off. We shall march about
twenty thousand strong. The Forty-ninth will send seven
hundred and thirty-three men; one hundred and thirtyone sick, of whom fifty-one are on light duty, will be left
behind to aid in garrisoning the arsenal. Rumor has it
that General Foster, from North Carolina, with thirty
thousand men, is.5oming up the river. I fear that it is
too good to be true. As most of the boys have turned
in for the night, I presume we will not start before morning; and as the contingencies of battle may prevent me
writing you again, I will now post you as to matters and
~events up to date.
On Saturday, the 7th, we expected to hear the first
gun of our campaign. Seventy wagons, two pieces of
artillery, and some cavalry came along, and we fell into
line.- We knew we were after forage, and understood
there was a strong probability of meeting the foe.
Through thee.thick Louisiana mud, which is mud indeed,
we pressed our way onward. So early in March, yet the
heat was so great that some fell out of the ranks. We
reached an extensive sugar establishment and halted.
The teams began to load up with wood; Dr. Lacock, the
owner thereof, rode back with our colonel to his house
and we knew that he professed. to be Union; because of
the thousands of hogsheads of sugar and molasses we
were forbidden to enjoy any part. The boys were mad;
they believed the darkeys, who said that Dr. Lacock was
a good Union man when there were no rebels about, and
they could not well see how a good Union man could live
five miles beyond our lines, guerrillas all around him, in a
place where we could not come unless armed to the teeth,
and yet his fine house and stock and crops all unmolested.
It was a great humbug. The negroes said there had
been some rebels.near that morning, and When we
reached the sugar house, we drew up in a military style,
to guard against a probable attack from the adjoining
tlhick woods. Finding that attack a mere myth, some
deemed it advisable to look into the secrets of sugar ma



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         159
king. Strange how curious Yankees are. I suppose that
secret was in the centre of a great hogshead of very nice
sugar, for I found a great many soldiers carefully exploring there, and, fearing they would not have time sufficient,
many threw away their rations and filled their haversacks,
hoping to analyze their spoils in the quiet of camp, and
be rewarded in the discovery of the arcana. Of couse,
this must have been their intention, for they certainly
would not have violated orders. Some, doubtless, thought
that the secret was in the molasses barrel, judging by the
way canteens were filled with that saccharine fluid;
and as I looked upon beards, mahogany stained and
powdered with a rich yellow powder, I concluded some
thought the surest way of getting at it, was to try the
sense of taste. Thus sweetly engaged, we were oblivious
to all care of the rebels, when some dignitary of the
quartermaster department accosted us in language more
forcible than polite, and so, we concluded to abandon our
search and fell into the ranks, looking so innocent, that
no one would have thought we had confiscated the sugair
and molasses of a "good Union man."  Over the road,
which had become almost dusty, we wended our way to
camp, voting all such foraging expeditions a bore, and bewailing the waste of money spent for that wood as if it
were from our own pockets..' Now, we begin to see why
wood and not sugar was sought after. It was to enable
the gunboats to operate against Port Hudson. Capture
that stronghold and we can settle the mooted question of
Dr. Lacock's loyalty, and perchance transfer his delectable'stores to our commissary department.
Though not fully acquainted with, the strength of the
enemy's works at Port Hudson, we know enough to convince us that there is serious work before us, or, to use
camp slang, that " we are going to have a dusty hunt."
In that work some of us will fall. Ere anotherweek
shall have passed away, we will' have veterans' experienee, and perchance the Forty-ninth may be allied to the




160         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
pride of Berkshire by many a bloody grave. Without
any exaggeration, we are eager for the fray. We came
to do the work of soldiers. It is hard to think that fighting is not a part of that work. Young hearts find it
easier to " do" than to " suffer."  "Learn to labor and
to wait," is no easy task. While some'eagerness to meet.
the foe is manifested, there is no bravado. We go to a
stern duty, and though martial pride duly influences us,
yet the thought "it is our duty" is our main source of
strength. Our faces are not blanched, but I doubt not
there are many timid hearts among us. Timidity, fear,
is not cowardice. Said Wellington, as he saw a man pale
as a corpse, marching steadily on in a forlorn hope,
"There goes a brave man; he knows his danger and faces
it." Cowardice is the shrinking from duty through fear.
The strong will makes the brave man, and when that will
is stiffened by a manly pride, and, above all, by a sense of
duty, the brave is elevated to the hero..
"The brave man is not he who feels no fear,.
For that were stupid and irrational,
But he whose noble soul its fear subdues,
And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from."
Danger faces us. We know nothing about the land
defences of Port Hudson, save that there are series of
earth-works, defended by over twenty thousand men.
They ought to repel three times their number. Certainly we have not nearly enough men..I doubt that
Banks has forty regiments in his whole department.
They will not average seven hundred and fifty men.
Many of these are cooks, teamsters, &c., who do not
count in the field. If the fleet fail, we are incompetent
to do the work alone. As a river defence, Port Hudson
is more formidable than Vicksburg, for the river there
makes a right angle, eiposing any passing ship to the
uninterrupted range of seven batteries for five miles.




MASSACHUSETIT VOLUNTEERS.          161
While waiting for the "forward march," we are beginning to get hardened. All the spare blankets and other
peculiar comforts connected with our department,. have
been sent to the arsenal, and we find using one and the
same blanket to lie on and to cover us is not quite the
thing. Your hips will work through before morning,
and you are glad to hear the morning drum beat. Officers have prepared themselves for the march by confiscating horses and mules, by the valuable help of contrabands or servants. Mounted on these nags, we would'
create no little sensation irr Berkshire. Johnny Merry
(A) was fortunate enough to " draw" a charger,'but un.
fortunately for him, the charger made-a charge with
his hind leg on his ankle, and sent him to the hospital.
Brewster " drew " a horse, and Howard, who is very fond
of riding, rode him into town, and-walked back, carrying bridle and saddle. A colored matron laid claim to
him (to the horse, not to Howard), and satisfied' the provost-marshall of the genuineness of her claim; so the quartermaster drew a blank that time.
Speaking of the darkeys, reminds me that I have often
read of the joyous labors of the sugar season, how they
anticipated it'with pleasure, and grew fat while working
up the sweet cane. I was rather taken back when an old
colored man told me, that the masters used to try to
frighten the negroes away from us, saying that we would
sell them to Cuba, where they had two sugar seasons
yearly. Why they should be frightened at the prospects
of doubling their joy, I could not see, but it lies here; the
sugar season is one of exhausting, killing labor. The
mills, once started, know no rest, and all the sleep the
hands get is from midnight to two hours before day. I
remember Mr. Clay stated in the Senate, that sugar hands
did not average seven years of life; that, as the planters
needed twice as many hands during the. season as they
could work the rest of the year, they found it cheaper to
keep only as many as they could profitably employ in the




162         LIFE WITHE FORTY-NINTH
comparatively idle season, and'to put them on double
labor when hurried. True, this killed off many, and involved the necessity of buying more slaves; but the murdering plan was the cheapest, and therefore adopted.
Sugar season, a joyous, fattening time! Alas! for another slavery lie.
A Southern gentleman told me, " we must have slavery
or abandon the cultivation of sugar, for though slaves did
less than free laborers would, their labor was certain; you
could-rely on so much being done." If this be true, then I
say, abandon the sugar crops of Louisiana. We get about
one-third of our sugar from this State, and to protect that
unnatural crop. from competing with West India sugar,
we put a tariff of two cents a pound on the latter. This
is protective tariff with a vengeance, or rather protection
to slavery. The South should not attempt to raise sugar,
for it is a forced crop. If it cannot be raised without forced
or slave labor, God never intendedit to be raised at 11J —
Small farmers will yet raise it by free labor. There-is no
need of every cane grower owning an expensive mill.
One mill would answer for a dozen sugar "farms," (the
negroes rarely ever say'.' plantation.") The colored people
look upon our preparations for leaving with-great interest
and solemnity. They fear the return of the rebels. Let
the army retire and hundreds must suffer, for on us they
live. We will miss their neat restaurants. Neatness
seems to be a negro virtue. T. Back, (F) our color sergeant, has been recommended for a lieutenancy in one of
the negro regiments, on the ground of experience as a soldier in the Florida war, and as an overseer. He should fail
because he has been an overseer. No man should command negroes, unless he would give bonds never to spell
negro with two " g's."  Observers say free negroes won't
work under their old overseers. Negro troops will prove
an expensive failure, if having been an overseer recommends a man for their command.
Lieutenant Noble (B) is Adjutant and Assistant




MASSACH BUSETT   VOLUNTEERIS.       163
Quartermaster in the Ambulance corps. It is a responsible post. He will do well therein. A. N. Cowles (E)
having been promoted to the post of Ordnance Sergeant
of our brigade, our happy family loses him, and adopts R.
K. Bliss (B) his successor, as Armorer. He is a skilful
mechanic and a pleasant companion.
As we may not return to Baton Rouge, buit, conquering
Port Hudson, press on to Vicksburg! thence to East
Tennessee! thence to Charleston! and throughRichmond!
home, I would like to give you some idea how wealthy
Southerners live. Not having been there myself, and
prowling guerrillas make the visit a dangerous one, I am
indebted to the observing eyes of F. K. Arnold, one of
the most intelligent and reliable of Co. E for this description. "The Perkins place issituated on the Perkins
road, about three miles southeast from Baton Rouge.
The mansion is beautifully situated on a rise of ground.
Access from the road is by a drive half a mile in length,
lined on either side with trees.' Near the house are China
trees, reaching above'the roof, and, being in full bloom,
load the air with a delicious perfume. In the yard and
garden are roses, cactuses, pinks., verbenas, and many
plants unknown to us, and also a hot-house. The mansion is of brick, seventy feet front and thirty deep. On
one end and in front, is a tasty two-story veranda, with
cast iron front. This, as well as the various rooms, is
lighted with gas made on the' premises. A broad hall
divides the house into two equal parts. On the groundfloor are twelve spacious rooms, each having a fire-place
with marble mantle and hearth, and fine chandelier. The
doors are of imitation oak. A broad brick walk runs in
front of the house, the step into which is made of alternate
blocks of black and white marble. Two artificial ponds,
once the homes of sunny fishes, but now of disgusting
water-snakes, are near the house. The whole place shines
through its neglect as having once been the residence of
taste and culture, aided by all the appliances of wealth.




164         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
There was also a very large brick sugar-house, with two
large stationary engines. The evidences of Vandalism
are everywhere apparent; windows and blinds smashed,
gas fixtures broken, doors torn from their hinges, immovable furniture broken, new billiard-table all ripped up,
iron safe stove in, picture frames with the canvas cut out,
walnut writing-desks, dressing-bureaus, wardrobes, &c.,
more or less defaced."  Several estimated the original
value of the furniture of this mansion at fifty thousand
dollars. And here we are with cold coffee in our canteens,
hard bread and salt beef in our haver sacks, shivering under
thin blankets, only waiting for orders to strike a blow
that will prostrate that whole institution, which builds
for a few oppressors such mansions, while it dooms the
entire peasantry of the land, black and white, to hopeless
poverty and wretchedness.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         165
LETTER XXII.
CAMP BANKS, BATON Rou1GE, LA., 
March 21, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
I don't know whether I quote this doggerel correct or
not —
"The King of France with thirty thousand men,
Marched up the hill, and then marched down again."
Well, that is our experience. Here we are back again,
next to our old camp. We did not lose a man in our
assault on Port Hudson. We did not see an armed
rebel. The whole thing was a "feint."  Successful, I
suppose, for Banks has officially informed us that "the
object of the expedition is accomplished." Well, we
come back in no very pleasant humor. After screwing
our courage to the sticking point, and writing solemn,
patriotic letters home, preparing them to mourn over us
proudly, it is really provoking to be alive and well, not
even having learned whether our guns would go off or
not. Glory! I fear thou art not for the Fonty-ninth.
On Saturday, the 14th, at 5 A.M., we started. We
carried no baggage, save overcoats and blankets. Instead
of going by the woods road, we lengthened out our
march near two miles by going through the city, which
was military. Emory and Grover led the way; our
division (Augur's) brought up the rear. The baggagewagons and artillery were sandwiched between the dif.
ferent brigades. The morning was cool, the road was in
fine order,-trees, just budding out, and festooned with
vines and moss, were on either hand; so for five miles
marching was a luxury. We reached the Bayou Mon-,
tecino without any incident save the breaking down of a




] 66       LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
wagon, which led to a generous hospitality in the matter
of bread and butter and cheese. The butter was excellent. I learned (whether before or after eating it, deponent saith not) it was some of the veritable butter that
disappeared during the raid on the sutler's tent on Long
Island. The negroes were in advance of the advance,
having laid down an India-rubber pontoon bMdge in the
place of the fine county bridge destroyed by the rebels,
and also a wooden one. "Our army swore terribly in
Flanders."  Had good Uncle Toby sat by me on the far
side of the bayou, and heard the drivers as they got their
mules over the stream and up the hill, he would have
concluded that the army kept up the old practice.
Mules, carts, and harnesses are all spoils of war. The
carts are nearly twice as large and heavy as our carts.
They put a mule in the shafts, and then one on either
side, and away they go over the unrailed bridge. Each
outside mule being afraid of the water, presses from it,
and if they are -equal in strength, they get over safely,
but if one pushes harder than the other, there is danger
of cart and all going into the stream. I would rather
charge a rebel battery than drive a mule team over that
bridge. When over, fifty men, more or less, help the
mules'by pushing, striking, kicking, and swearing to get
up the hill.- With the green stagnant water we filled
our canteens, and pressed on. We had passed the shade,
and now we were to try the effects of the Louisiana sun.
In the whole march, but seven of our regiment fell out.
A few miles beyond the bayou, and we came to a burning house, said to have been fired because an officer was
shot from there.' We stopped to kill a cow for our din
ner, and taking'half in our wagon, reached our stopping
place about noon. The boys stod their march of fifteen
miles well. Marching is our 4brk; every thing else is
play in comparison. Carry a lkreau, alias knapsack, on
your back, though it may have nothing in it but an overcoat and two blankets, and a ten-pound gun with sixty




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          16 7
rounds of cartridges, and haversack filled with food, and
canteen holding a quart of water, and you have a load
that will bow you over, make you round-shouldered, and
give shoulders, chest, and back many an unpleasant
twinge. If the roads are muddy and the weather hot,
and especially if you are in the rear of a column, necessitating a number of "double-quicks" to keep up, you
have a job that is more like hard work than to mow an
acre of grass, or to cut two cords of wood in a day.
That afternoon we encamped in two large fields,-one
occupied by our horses, wagons, and artillery, the other
by the infantry. Like magic, our little white houses
arose. The fences furnished us with flooring, that saved
us from contact with the damp ground. After you know
how, you can make quite a cosy bed of two rails, separating them a little to let the hips down. The Southerners, with a commendable foresight, put up rail fences
about ten feet high, and often ten or twelve rails in one
pannel. Since Uncle Sam has ceased paying eight dollars
a cord for' our wood, we have been dependent on our
own axes for this essential, and often shut up to the
exclusive use of green wood. No one can complain of
the quantity or quality of this fence wood. Soon the
blessed coffee was smoking before us, and on our rations
we dined. Ere long, some wanderers would come ih
with sweet potatoes, or a leg of mutton, or a quarter of
beef, or a hog, and a little conversation with them would
result in the mysterious disappearance of a squad from
each company. Our officers were all blind that day, and
when they were invited to partake of a broiled chop, or
a little tenderloin, or perchance a piece of fried chicken,
with some fine sweet potatoes, they did so as a matter of
course, perchance, in their innocence, thinking that the
enterprising Adams Express Company had just arrived
with some delayed luxuries from home. Successful foraging cheered the boys, and made them forget lame
shoulders, galled feet,. and general fatigue. If health




168         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
requires that meat should cool some time before cooking,
I am afraid that, on that Saturday afternoon, we laid up
materials for much future sickness. An unlucky hog or
frightened sheep would run on the points of our bayonets,
and we, that there should be no waste, would soon have
him in the kettle. Sometinies a stray bristle would tickle
our throats, teaching that many hands make chaste, if not
waste. We did not institute very lengthy inquiries as
to the loyalty or disloyalty of the coveted property. All
about there were so steeped in treason, that we never
could be fully satisfied of their loyalty till we knew if
they were eatable or not. Judging by that standard,
the loyalty of many was above all suspicion. Too late
came the knowledge, and we tried to comfort ourselves
with the reflection that, even in death, they served their
native land,-thus proving us lineal descendants of them
who threw suspected witches into the river to test their
connection with the devil. If they swam, they were to
be burned as guilty; if they sank, mourned as innocent
martyrs. Though we never stopped to ascertain if the
cock and his mate crowed for Abe Lincoln or Jeff. Davis,
yet we became fully convinced that they all belonged to
a race of tough rebels. Teeth sharpened on hard tack,
jaws made strong by exercising on commissary beef,
were compelled to own that the old Chanticleer was too
much for them. Happy were those who did not go after
water. Our fountain was a hollow filled up by the overflow of the Mississippi. Dip your dish in, make rapid
circles to scatter the scum and dirt, and you could, after
casting out the stagnant particles, have a pail of water
that a Berkshire farmer would give to his hogs-only
when all the springs had failed. There is no accounting
for taste, yet it did seem to me as if the water would
have been purer if that good fellow above me had postponed washing his shirt and body till after I had filled
my pail, but he did not see it in that light, and I went
back to make and drink my coffee, at times imagining




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          169
something scraping my throat, as if rebels had got within
the citadel. When we have to use such water, we should
strain it before boiling, and a towel that has not been
used too long, or an old shirt, answers very well for that
purpose. We think we have already exceeded our allowance of dirt, and that each one is well into his half
bushel.
We had a sleeping chamber that night that was certainly unique, and a serenade that I shall never' forget.
Imagine yourself under a cart, with a pair of mules tied
to the wheel on either side, pulling said cart first to the
one side, and then to the other, accompanying their
efforts with braying-that most discordant of all sounds
-which would be taken up by one after another, till
such a concert as Pandemonium alone call get up would
banish all slebp, and you have the status of our department on the night of the fourteenth of March, 1863.
About eleven o'clock, a deep bass was added to the concert. It was the cannon's opening'roar. Till near morning it was continuous, shaking the ground we laid on,
which was only about eight miles from Port Hudson.
We listened to the sullen firing, and with a soldier's joy
awaited the coming dawn. It came with rapid, heavy
firing, and much confused harnessing of teams and artillery. Men spoke in whispers, and we faintly caught the
word "' retreat."  Nearer sounded the guns, and lo! our
whole division marched swiftly on firom Port Hudson.
Then came rapid, heavy firing, then a lurid glare mingling with the opening light, then a noise and shock that
made the solid ground tremble, and then stillness and
darkness. Fast we walked, and awe and half-panic
seized many hearts. The sun arose, and no enemy followed us. On we went, dispirited, angry, fully believing we had suffered a severe defeat, and wondering why
our division had been idle. Gradually we learned the
facts. We doubted them long, and when it was officially
declared that "the object of the expedition is accom0




170        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
plished," we esteemed it only an official lie to cover up a
defeat that the unemployed troops might have converted
into a victory. This is the history of the whole affair:
Banks wanted to get past Port Hudson, to cut off rebel
supplies from up the river. In this he succeeded, as the
Hartford and Albatross passed the batteries, and landed
some troops north of the stronghold. The land move
was only a feint to aid the passage of the fleet. H/owt
we aided, we can't see. The near firing, the light, the
shock, were the death throes of the Mississippi. She
had reached the upper part of the enemy's works, and
was almost out of danger, when in the smoke and darkness she grounded. While trying to get off, she kept
the enemy from their guns by firing two hundred and
fifty shots in thirty-five minutes. Her crew were taken
on board the iron-clad Essex, and she was then fired.
The fire lightening her, she swung round by the force of
the current, and headed down stream. The guns of her
port battery, which had not been fired, becoming heated,
the venerable old frigate paid a parting salute to the
rebels, at the same time that she fired the minute guns
over her own grave. Had she floated down stream stern
foremost, it is impossible to conjecture what would have
been the result, inasmuch as her guns would have been
discharged on her own crew, on the neighboring bank.
Fragments drifted past Baton Rouge, causing the loyal
to fear, and traitors to hope.
The wagon trains and most of the brigades stopped at
the Bayou Montecino, but our' brigade marched into
Baton Rouge, and then immediately back again. While
few or none fell out of the ranks in coming to the bayou,
fearing the enemy might be behind, yet they returned
from the city like scattered sheep, mad at themselves,
mad at their generals, and mad at the colonel's horse,
which kept on a mad pace, requiring the boys to trot tc
keep up. They did not keep up, but came in singly or
in squads-hot, footsore, and tired. We encamped ir




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS. 
an old corn-field, and it rained as it can rain only in
Louisiana. It was a wet, gloomy night for us. Our
shelter-tents proved a failure. Hulet and I slept, or tried
to sleep, on a bed of cracker-boxes only three feetwide.
You may judge of the comfort of the regiment, when i
tell you our bed was almost Excelsior. Many of the
officers took refuge in a dirty but dry cabin, and looked
forward to a good rest, but soon an order came that no
man must sleep without the limits of the camp, and their
hopes of comfort died out as they accommodated themselves to beds of rail, beneath which scorpions and lizards
rested, and on which the generous rain descended. Our
brigadier-general was not much better off. He made his
head-quarters in a negro hut, so as not to disturb the
ladies who occupied the mansion-house of Mr. Pike. Co.
C was sent out as pickets. Travelling through the mud
for two miles, they reached their posts, when they were
informed that they were sent out in mistake, and through
the now heavy rain they gladly returned, and on arriving
at camp there learned that the order calling them in was
a mistake, and they must return. In the mud, and rain,
and dark, they went back again. Glad they were that
they had. caught a mule, on which they lashed their tents
and blankets. They were not so glad when the mule
vamosed, leaving them tentless and blanketless. Coming
from Puritan land, their religion may have been rather
blue. Certain it is that some swore till the very air was
blue; but they had to' grin and bear it, comforted with
the reflection- "'tis sweet for our country to be ducked."
Finding that his sweet potatoes were fast disappearing,
Mr. Pike made a virtue of necessity, and opened the
holes for public use. These, with a few stray hogs and
sheep, and the inevitable coffee, the soldier's elixir vitce,
kept up our courage, by keeping our stomachs filled.
That Sunday passed, the only one of my life in which I
could find no trace of the Sabbath, prick up imagination
never so much.




172         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
We stayed at Bayou Montecino till yesterday afternoon.
The weather was fine, so fine that nearly every one abandoned his woollen under-clothes. Nothing of note happened. One morning we hoped to have a brush. A
brigade went out toward the Clinton road, on a double
quick. Alas! for our dreams of glory, it was a false
alarm. Some nice vases, goblets and articles of vertu
found their way to our camp from abandoned houses. A
fancy upholsterer stored his stock in a remote cotton-gin
house, safe, as he thought, from the touch of the vandals.
That stock grew " small by degrees and beautifully less."
What is pilfering? Is taking property lying about loose,
having none to claim ownership, pilfering? If so, silence
is discreet. WVar makes sad havoc with our ideas of
meumn and tuum. Strictly honest men, yet haters of
rebels, might find that some of their Southern habits
have a proclivity toward free quarters at Lenox. "I
must live," said a man to Dr. Johnson, trying to excuse
some defalcation. The grand old hater of wrong, responded, "Sir, I don't admit that necessity."  So, perchance, rebels and quasi-Unionists might have said, as
they saw us thinning out their stock to keep our lives
comfortable. Certainly, though our consciences are not
as tough as their beef, that larceny never troubles us.
Last Monday we made a raid on the sugar-house of a Mr.
Williams. Save the half idiotic wife of the overseer, the
whites had fled. The negroes, glad to see us, piloted us
to the luxuries. Half of the brigade must have joined
in that raid. Men forgot their sore feet and lame backs.
Sugar, molasses, and sweet potatoes were before them.
Canteens were filled with molasses; haversacks, rubber
blankets, even shirts bursted with sugar. For once the
government ration was enough. Next morning the order
came to march. What to do with the sugar, fifteen
pounds to a man-and the molasses —a quart each, was
the question. Stowing away what they could stagger
under, they gave the rest to the negroes and the quarter



MASSACHUSETrTS VOLUNTEERS.          173
master. After this distribution they learned that marchingorders had been countermanded. Then there was quite
*a rush on us for their sugar, some claiming twice as much
as they had deposited. We gave it out ad libitumn, heartily
glad to get rid of it. Most of that Tuesday morning
was occupied in making,_nd eating molasses candy. Each
lnan with his stick in hand, gathered round his company
fire and took his share of the goodies. The LieutenantColonel's beard gave evidence that he had not outgrown.
his early tastes; the "tall-major" bowed in reverence to
the boiling sweet and brandished his candy'stick with as
much gusto as any subaltern; all the officers practically
acknowledged, "a fellow feeling makes all equal," save
the Colonel and Adjutant. I hope the reserve of HeadQuarters was penetrated by a dish of army candy.
Rough experience brings its blessing in the form of a
ration of whiskey. The lovers of that article would have
been better pleased if they had been allowed to take their
whiskey and quinine separately. As it is now served,
vacillating Sons of Temperance resolve to abide by cold
wate'r. All but the cold. I used to be an ultra temperance man, but since driven to decide between going without fluid or drinking something called water, obtained from
the nearest bayou, below where horses and mules drink,
and wash, at least, I am led into sympathy with Paul's
advice, to "take a little wine for thy stomach's sake and
thine often infirmities."   Levity aside; our drinking
water is horrid and obtained from the dirtiest places, with
the most filthy surroundings. We have never yet pushed
away dead mules to fill our canteens, but we have drunk
water that your farmers would hardly wash their hogs
in. Here, in the city, the water is cleaner, but very unwholesome. The Colonel will not allow us to drink it,
so, all our drinking water is carted from the river. While
that is muddy, it is sweet. Throw a little alum into it,
and you clear it. Of course, this is not practicable, so
we must drink it as it is. The fine sediment in it is ab



174         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
sorbed by the kidneys, and produces gravel, stone, and
other diseases of the kidneys. The water being so poor
and warm, having no snap to it, we use coffee to excess;
hence diarrhcea. Generally, we issue half coffee and half
tea, but the former, seemingly more of a stimulant, is the
more acceptable. O! for one glass of Berkshire water.
I long for nothing so much. How often our fevered sick
yearn for the old springs by their mountain homes.
Alas! many will never again quaff from those springs.
Sickness is increasing rapidly among us. In some hospitals claret-wle is given to the patients. An iced-claret
punch is considered the summuml bonum of all drinks.
To me claret seems a cross between sour cider and poor
port wine. You can buy it for fifty cents a bottle in New
Orleans; here we pay $1 50 for it. It cannot fairly be
called an intoxicating beverage.
We returned to Baton Rouge, and be assured that
the "feint" has made us faint indeed. We settle down,
believing that there is nothing for us but camp monotony
and fighting the unseen enemies that lurk in the air and
water of Louisiana. Now, the ill effects of enlisting men
for so short a period are being manifested. "When is our
time out? When will we go home?" are the great questions of interest. The strong ask them-for they see a
dull future; the weak ask them-for they see a short
future bounded by the grave. They only hope to expand
their horizon of life by an early move on Berkshire. The
once prostrate here rarely rally till The cool weather
comes. Alas! death comes more rapidly. Some hope
that we will be mustered out in Massachusetts, May 15th,
being nine months from date of draft, which our volunteering prevented. Some put it as late as June 10th, and
some think we will not leave here before June 19th, when
the term of service of seven companies will expire. If
the government wants us to re-enlist, it will do well to
send us home as early as possible, even. straining a point
in our favor. Give us a few months of Berkshire air,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          175
and we could return even to this grave-yard, and not
have one-third as many on the sick list as we now have.
The soldiers generally like the enrolment act. No
felons in the army; that is right. Make the cause too
sacred for felonious hands to handle. Putting the minimum age at twenty years is a mistake. The statisticsof
the British army show fifty per cent. more of sickness in
troops of twenty years and upward than under that age.
Men of forty-five can stand more than boys of eighteen,
but once prostrate, they rally more slowly. Youths have
a wonderful recuperative power. Our boys, under twenty, stand it better than any other class. Years have not
robbed them of their elasticity. They rarely think of
fatigue until they are exhausted.  The increased prudence of maturer years does not count as much as youthful energy.




7IFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XXIII.
CAMP BANKS, BATON ROUGE, LA., April 13, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
After quite a long interval, I take up the thread of
narrative, of the doings and surroundings of the Fortyninth. On the fourth instant, we moved to our present
camp, which is on a rolling, shadeless spot, on the borders of the city. The field and staff are in contiguity to
a majestic oak, making their quarters as pleasant as can
well be imagined for this vicinity. The soldiers are being
massed together, the trees, near our old camp, cut down
so as to give unbroken range for cannon, the fort and fortifications -strengthened and finished; these things, in
connection with Banks's movement on the west side of
the river, do not teach that we shall always be holiday
soldiers. If any movement be made on Port Hudson,
troops and supplies from Texas through the Teche country, must be cut off. Otherwise, we might take that
Gibraltar by storm, but would fail in reducing it by siege
or starvation. Many of the troops in this department are
nine months' men. If any thing be done it must be done
by us, for Banks has not enough without us to reduce
Port Hudson. It admits of serious doubt, if with us, he
can add the surrender of that place to his laurels. I
think he is preparing to starve out his foe, if storming
should fail.  To the east of us we have thrown up a
series of rifle-pits, between us and where the enemy. will
probably come, if he come at all. Do you know what a
rifle-pit is? Well, it is a pit two or more feet deep, and
about three feet wide. The dirt taken from it, is thrown
up on the side whence the attack is expected. The de



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          1 7
fenders of the pit stand therein while firing on the foe.
Their heads are about the only parts of their bodies exposed, while they have full range of their assailants. The
soldierly neatness of our colonel is apparent in the superiority of our rifle-pits over those thrown up by other
regiments:  Our pits are as finished as if they were parts
of a permanent fortification. With spade in hand he
showed us how the work should be done. A nice house
with fine shade trees stands right in the way of our fire.
It will soon come down.  We enjoy the prospects of its
fall more than do its secession occupants.
" The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light." Traitors take more pains
to instil treason into their little ones, than we do to imbue
ours with loyalty. The children of this house, ranging
from eight to twelve, seem quite well posted in the garbled
statements that have cheated the Southern people. Many
times have they half amused and provoked us. I saw a
little toddler of three years of ace, and asking her to kiss
me in remembrance of my own babe, I received the answer; " I won't tiss a Yankee." I laughed, so her mother thought she would reveal still more of her child's treasonable precocity, and put her through the rebel catechism. I send you three questions with their,answers,
as specimens:
" Who are you, my child?"
"A rebel, by the grace of God."
" Who are the chief enemies of our happiness?"
"Lincoln and Seward."
"Is it wrong to kill a Yankee?"
" No; on the contrary, it is an act meriting the favor
of God."
I have scarcely met a rebel, old or young, that was not
quite well posted in the fancied wrongs of the South. I
fear our people are not so well conversant with the rights
we are defending. I heard the National song of the
Confederacy; "The Bonnie Blue Flag."  In poetry and
8*




1 78       LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
music it is as much inferior to the " Star Spangled Banner," as the Confederacy is to the Union.
Speaking of our colonel's neatness, reminds me that we
are unquestionably the banner regiment of the first division in that respect. Soldiers copy after their officers.
Neatness is a prominent characteristic of our -commander. Who ever saw him looking slovenly?  Who ever
saw the lieutenant-colonel, or major, or adjutant, or surgeon, dress unbefitting their rank? None. Go through
our streets; you will say "neat;" see our boys on parade-is there a musket unbrightened, a button or a brass
unpolished, a sloven among them all? Not one. If one
there should be, he had better keep close behind his file
leader, for if the watchful eyes of the colonel (the boys
say he canl see out of the back of his head) should fall on
him, he would have an opportunity to learn how nearly
united are cleanliness and godliness, while standing guard
under the weight of a loaded knapsack. The boys grumble at the time and toil this cleanness demands, but are
well satisfied when they compare themselves with some
of their neighbors, whose officers are careless in their attire. Berkshire never saw us in all our wealth of white
gloves and glittering brasses. Many a future household
will thank the Forty-ninth for lessons and habits of neatness. Company G are now acting as provost guards.
They have a comfortable gas-lighted house to live in,
and many of the appliances of civilization. Their duties
are of a character to attract attention,. and I think the
neatness of the regiment led to one of its constituent companies receiving this compliment. This neatness reacts
on our self-respect. A man with a clean body and clean
clothes is not so ready to do a mean action as when body
and clothes are dirty. A dirty Christian! did you ever
see one? I never did. This attractiveness costs labor.
A gun is a hard thing to keep clean and unrusted in a
humid climate like this. Exposure on guard and picket
duty, makes it yet harder. Our white gloves'were not




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          179
purchased by the men without some dissatisfaction. The
right of the colonel to compel them to buy articles of clothing not specified in the regulations or furnished by the
government, is questionable.  He did not compel any to
purchase, but I understand he sent for one of the malcontents and gave him a pair of gloves. I have heard of no
trouble since.
We live in our wedge tents, and our shelter tents furnish us with awnings that do much to break the fierce
rays of the sun. Guards no longer walk their beats, but
sit down under protecting awnings.'Oh, it is hot here!
Our tents are like ovens. Driven by the suffocating heat
within, we go out only to meet the intolerable rays of a
Southern sun. The nights bring no coolness, only the
dank moisture. The winds blow high here. Often you
can see the leaves rustling in the breeze and pant in vain
for a share thereof. Generally, there is some fresh air
stirring on the river. Fortunately, our main hospital is
on its banks. By keeping their houses closely shut up
during the day, the residents manage to be comfortable,
but they say that in July and August, keeping cool is an
impossibility, but that the perspiration will roll from you
while doing nothing and in the coolest places. We can
readily believe them, for now, in April, our bodies are always moist. See us in our thick woollen garments, and
you would suppose we would dissolve in perspiration,
but this is the only climate in which a man can wear flannel next to his skin with pleasure. The constant perspiring destroys the itching, burning sensation, so familiar
to flannel wearers in the North. Speaking of itching reminds me that nearly every one is more or less troubled
with the " ground itch," supposed to be caused by lying
on or near the damp ground. White pimples, filled with
humor, appear on the body. The itching is intolerable,
and the Shly relief is wholesale scratching, until the blood
runs. This produces scabs, which in some cases cover
the whole person. This itch is a kind of outlet to fever.




180         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Drive it in and fever is almost sure to follow. Perchance
bathing would mollify our torment. Until the snows of'
the Northern streams, that feed the Father of rivers, are
melted, the river is too cold for bathing.
Already, we have flies in legions, and hordes of mosquitoes innumerable.  Add to these, lizards (Howard
felt some thing crawling up his back: on examination,
a venomous, green, snaky lizard presented itself), spiders
larger than walnuts, insects vaster and more numerous
than ever entered our minds to conceive, and -you can
form some idea of the delights of a soldier's life in the
"Department of the Gulf." The government has furnished us with mosquito bars, so we rest in some degree
of peace, lulled to sleep by the threatenings of myriad
foes, turned into a doubtful music by the judicious arrangement of a little netting. Holland (A) came in from
picket, and on his face you could not put a pinhead without covering the mark of a mosquito. He said they. bit
through his rubber blanket. Whether that was fact or
joke, I know not, but we are prepared to swallow nearly
any mosquito story, however large. I shall never think
of a tropical climate without recalling the tropical prolificness of all pests.
C. Markman has resigned his post as cook of Company
B, and we have been fortunate enough to secure his services; so we are living as to make going home a matter of
comparative indifference as far as the table is concerned.
If we could only secure the destruction of the miultitudinous ants, and had an extra hand to keep the flies out of
our mouths while eating, and if it did not require so much
dexterity to use a knife in lieu of a spoon in conveying
butter from the dish to our plates, we could get along
quite well. In some of my rambles outside the lines, I
secured several gallons of dewberlies (remermer, it is
only April), many of which were twice as large as walnuts, and if you could have tasted our pies, you would
have thought the lines had fallen to us in pleasant places.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          181
Report has it that we go to the " Army of the Potomac," and that our places are to be filled by three years'
regiments. Nine months' men should never have been
sent so far away, but as that class are mainly from NewEngland, and this is a " New-England expedition," we were
sent here. I hope this report is true, for we would like
to get out of this grave-yard.  Going home is the great
topic with us. Start any theme, and it will get round to
that before the conversation ends. We have all kinds of
rumors on that subject. The time of seven companies
really ends the nineteenth of June, and no sophistry can
extend it longer. We were mustered in -as companies
for nine months, and if discharging us at that time is inconvenient and embarrassing, the fault is not ours. Any
attempt to keep us longer will awaken bad blood, causing
demoralization, if not mutiny. Had we sworn to remain
nine months firom the date of regimental organization, we
would keep our bond, but now we claim the letter of the
law. We will submit to our fate, however unjust. We
atre in the eagle's grasp, and squirming will not avail us.
Mutiny, and how will we be fed, how get home? These
are questions more easily asked than answered. This solicitude about a speedy return to Massachusetts dishonors
our patriotism, say you. If assured that our country's
welfare demanded our prolonged stay, we might be willing to stay, but now we see only the wilting of our sick
and the burial of our dead. Put us before the enemy,
and we would see the nineteenth of June pass by, and
grumble, but our latent patriotism world be evoked, and
we would not disgrace our native State. Nous verrons.
Colonel Bartlett says we do not drill as well as we did
six weeks ago. That is true; we have not the snap and
vigor we had then. We are worked overmuch. To-day
there is company drill of near two hours in the morning,
in the afternoon brigade drill and dress parade occupying
near four hours. To-morrow, you go on picket or on
guard. If on picket, you do nothing the day of your re



182         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
turn but appear at dress parade. The next day you take
your turn in the regular duties. If on guard, the following day finds you doing police duty and engaging in
brigade drill. As sickness has so reduced our numbers,
picket and guard duties come unpleasantly near each
other. I do not know that the colonel is responsible for
this overworking. Were we healthy and in the North, our
labors would be just enough to keep us fresh and vigorous. As it is, they exhaust us. Though a cold snap reduced our sick from 168 to 116, yet we are mere shadows
of our former selves. On leaving New York we averaged
fifteen pounds per man more than when we enlisted. Now
we averaged at least fifteen pounds less than when we
entered the service. It is difficult to find a man who is
not afflicted with diarrhaea. Men, disturbed by the operations of that disease half a dozen times in the day, would
be called sick at home; here they are on the well list and do
full duty. This insidious disease is rarely overcome while
living on camp fare. If not speedily overcome, it becomes
chronic, and then farewell comfort, energy, life itself.
Our diet is as good as soldiers can expect in such a climate. If the rneat and coffee ration were reduced onehalf and the deficiency made up in vegetables, it would be
better for us. There is much difficulty in obtaining a full
supply of vegetables, even of potatoes, many of which are
uneatable.  Mixed vegetables, and desiccated potatoes,
have been served out, but they don't take. With beefsoup, they might answer. Our salt beef is generally good,.
but this climate is too warm for pork. It becomes soft,
oily, and maggoty.  I cannot see why salt fish cannot be
issued instead of meat. Herrings, mackerel, etc., would
do much to render the rest of our food palatable. Of soft
bread, we have enough and to spare. The excess enables us to get our washing done by negro women. Some
luxuries find their way to the camp by the sale of meat
not consumed.
Good cooking would do much to make our food health



MASSACHUSEITS VOLUNTEERS.          183
ful, but how can that be secured with one stove for a hundred men, more or less? Beans were prohibited for
awhile, but finding we could get nothing in lieu thereof;
we have returned to them. Cooked right, and we have
no food so popular and wholesome; but poorly cooked,
and they are more fatal than rebel bullets. The officers
enjoy better health than the privates. This is mainly
owing to their better style of living. Though the law
provides for the payment of rations not drawn, it is almost impossible to secure that payment. Who is to
blame, I know not. Hard crackers, toasted in hog grease,
is a favorite dish. Nothing can be more unwholesome,
and the prohibition of the surgeon fails to stop the evil.
Oh, for pay-day! Then the boys could get something to
gratify their palates, and their diarrhnea would be checked.
With some, that disease is the result of insufficient food.
In its incipient stages, I have known it to be cured by an
abundance of good food. This long delay of pay-day has
much cramped our sutler, rendering him unable to obtain goods so as to trust us. This has been bad for us,
and worse for him. I do not think he will make a fortune out of his position. MIr. Springstein is not fitted to
be a sutler. He is a generous gentleman. I know few
men who will do more to oblige another, and from what
I can see, a successful sutler must be a compound of
energy, extortion and closeness. A desire to go with the
regiment, to spend the winter in the South, more- than to
make money, led him to accompany us. Captain Morey
recently distributed a case of claret wine among his
men. Among his many acts of kindness to his men, none
has been more acceptable.  lie and Captain Weston
have done much in this way, to add to the comfort of
their men, as have also many of the other officers. As
a body they have shown much anxiety for our welfare.
The morale of the regiment does not deteriorate. Sundays are inspection days and holidays, but they are dull.
Religious services are few and far between; no books or




184         LIFE IWITH THE FORTY-NINTH
tracts to read, few things, save less drilling, and less card
playing to indicate the presence of the Sabbath. A member of the Christian Commission preached for us last Sunday evening. Drawn up on the three sides of a hollow
square, in the moonlight, we listened to the grand old
truths, the foundation of all duties, and thought of Sunday evening meetings in Berkshire. God bless that
Christian Commission. The members of it work gratuitously for our temporal and eternal welfare, and are doing
much to raise up a Christian soldiery. God is measurably
baptizing the army. I doubt not more, proportionably,
are converted in the camp than at home. Soldiers will
not return corrupted.  On the whole, they improve.
They may be divided into three classes.  First, Christians; these knowing that peculiar temptations surround them, that the unconverted are watching them,
and that death, by disease or bullet, may soon visitsthem,
are led to increased watchfulness, and therefore grow in
grace. Second, moral men; moral by the power of education, association and absence of temptation, whose
morality is not fastened to faith in Christ; these deteriorate. Third, the dissolute, the rough; men who have
had no religious education, nor learned subordination at
home. These are benefited by their military experience.
If liquor is as scarce and hard to be obtained in other departments as it is in this, the army is as good as atemperance
society.. Officers can purchase liquor; enlisted men cannot. The drunkenness of the Army of the Potomac lies
with the former. Why should they have the right to buy
rather than privates? Is a drunken officer less prejudicial to the service than a drunken private? Do shoulderstraps render a man less liable to temptation, or more impervious thereto? I have seen but two drunken officers
in this whole department; and but little reflections can
be cast on their chastity. If licentiousness exists, it shuns
the gaze of day. Sunday, when we came here, was kept
as it is in France, but now, all business is suspended: and




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          185
we have the quiet of a New England Sabbath, though
quite recently, the theatre was open on a Sunday night.
This mockery of a theatre is quite well patronized by officers and negroes; our empty pockets would keep us
away, had we any desire to go. One of our general's
staff officers demeaned himself by serving as stage-manager and actor. Whether it is because we are better than
we were formerly or not, I know not, but punishment has.
become obsolete among us. We are an orderly set, as an
army. A secessionist remarked that he did not know
how our men were kept so quiet; you would not know,
if you did not see them, that there were any soldiers
about; that one company of their troops would make
more noise than our whole army.
Frequent mails keep us in pleasant communication with
Berkshire.  The Republican and Eagle are almost as
welcome as letters. The latter especially, posts us in
local matters and in many little items our friends do not
write about, forgetting every thing done or said at home
has a charm for us now. Letters on both sides fail in
details. Brevity is not now the soul of wit. Mail day
is a great day with us. The lucky ones show by their
cheerful looks that they have " heard from home," while
to the sick, letters are more invigorating than all the
remedies of the surgeon. Unhappy they, for whom mail
after mail brings no token from absent friends. "Are
you sure there is nothing for me?"  "Quite sure!" and
the hungry one clings to the hope that it may have been
miscarried to some other regiment, and will soon find its
way to him. When that hope dies out, home-sickness
takes hold of him, and if he be otherwise sick, hastens
him to the hospital or the grave. This is a real sickness.
We have much leisure time, we know not how to fill it
up, and so dwell often and long on the friends of home,
till a desire for them is an unsatisfied soul-yearning, that
really prostrates.  Then, a word of sympathy is as the
voice of an angel.  Yearning for this unattainable has




186         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
shortened many a soldier's career. "Died of home-sickness," should be written on many a grave. The victims
to this disease are not babes or cowards, but the finest
spirits of the army. Alone in a crowd, craving sympathy
and fearing the sneer, they wilt and die. How little our
relatives understand what comfort and strength their
letters inspire. If they did, they would always keep
letters on the stocks, noting down what Harry said, or
that sister has a new frock, or that the baby is beginning
to walk, or that Mr. Smith is to be married to Miss
Brown; all these things that go to make up their daily
lives.
We have given up all hopes of a supply of. reading
matter. We hunger for something to read. Books are
borrowed weeks in advance. Even Reynolds's trashy
novels are read through, and that too, by educated men.
"Nothing to read," is the deep-toned complaint everywhere. The people at home do not know what sacrifice
means. This mental hunger is fearful. Roam through
our large hospitals and see what freedom costs. Till
quite recently there were no beds. The sick lay on their
one blanket, till putrid, running sores were the result.
No one stood near to brush away the flies and insects.
Now all have beds, and mosquito bars enable them to
rest in peace. Perchance, all is done that can be done
for their comfort; our hospitals are airy, sweet, and clean,
and what delicacies can be obtained, the sick receive, or,
at least, the government provides and pays for; but, oh!
how unlike the ministrations of home.  Villains find
their way into the hospitals. Money and articles of value
sometimes mysteriously disappear, to say nothing of luxuries sent to or bought for the sick. There must be a hell
for such villains.
We hear favorable news from Banks, who is now in the
Teche country. He is sending cotton, sugar, and molasses
into New Orleans, in quantities sufficient to meet a large
share of the expense of this expedition. The rebels have




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          187
cut the levee above us, on the west bank of the river, in
hopes of flooding us out.
Adjutant-General Thomas is now engaged in raising
negro troops. How public opinion has changed! He
used to be a bitter pro-slavery man. Many unwilling
negroes are conscripted into the ranks. I do not object to
that, but I do object to paying the negro soldiers less than
whites. They do as much or more work, are exposed to
the same hardships and to greater dangers, for their capture will be followed by their death, and they, therefore,
should be paid the same. Paying a negro less for the
same services than a white man is one of the remaining
chains of slavery. Between the enlisting and the plantation scheme, we hope that they may be cared for, and the
fearful mortality that has cut off thousands be lessened.
The next winter will bb a dreary one for many of them,
and no.doubt selfish men on government plantations will
greatly abuse -them, so that it may even seem that "abolishing slavery means abolishing the slave." The transition
state will be accompanied by much distress and a sad
mortality, but order will ultimately come out of chaos,
and having endured the pangs of freedom's birth, they
will secure its blessings.
Death has been busy among us.  The soul-eating
monotony has often been broken by the funeral procession. We are learning too well the funeral call, with its
mournful music, its measured tread, the reversed arms,
the closing volleys, and the lively air, played on returning
from the grave, to banish a sadness that will not be thus
exorcised. Seth R. Webster (K) died of fever at the General Hospital in this place, on the 15th of March. He
was a married man, from New Marlboro, aged thirtyseven years, and is spoken of as a very nice man. His
battle was fought in the hospital, where so many soldiers
close their career of patriotic self-sacrifice.
On March 20th, death made its first inroad into Company A, by striking down with the hand of fever William




188         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Taylor, formerly a finisher in Taconia Mills, Pittsfield.
He died in the General Hospital at New Orleans, and
leaves a wife and child to look for his return in vain. He
was sick several weeks. As a soldier, he was steady,
faithful, and reliable. For once, mirthful Captain Weller
was sobered. He felt, indeed, that his family circle was
broken. His sadness did him honor.
Morton Olds (F) died here March 21st. Fever was
his foe. He was a steady, even-tempered farmer boy of
eighteen years of age, from Sandisfield.
Fever also struck low in death, March 22d, Eugene W.
Pierce, Sergeant (B), of Windsor. He died, I believe,
as he was returning to this place, but was buried at New
Orleans. His father came on to visit him, but death had
finished his work ere his arrival. He was one of our
reliable farnmer boys, aged twenty-one years, with bright
eye, denoting no ordinary intelligence. He was a good
soldier, and was one of the " color guard."  The common
foe gave him no chance to guard those colors amid the
smoke of battle. His wish doubtless was, while so doing,
to give his soul out to God.
Allen M. Dewey, Corporal in Company C, died at New
Orleans, on March 23d. He was taken sick just as we
left Carrollton, and lingered with fever for six weeks.
His sufferings were borne with gentle patience. I saw
him lying on his one blanket, emaciated, the bones working through the skin, which was raw and marked with
putrid sores, gasping for breath, yet seemingly resigned.
When we made a feint on Port Hudson, many of the
sick were removed to New Orleans. He was one of that
number. I fear it hastened his death. One of his comrades says he died with- all the calmness of him whose
peace with God was made. He was from Pittsfield, aged
thirty-five years, a melodeon-maker by trade. He was a
faithful soldier and a genial companion. We shall miss
his pleasant smile and that rich voice which so often
cheered us with its melodious song. Heaven's choir has




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          189
received him, and his war has terminated in a hallowed
peace.
On the same day, typhoid fever cut down Lyman
Lindsay (E), at this place. He was one of our Sheffield
farmers, aged twenty-two years, and his officers speak of
him as a good, nice boy.
Alexander Smith (C), of Lenox, died here, March 28th.
He was a shoemaker by trade, and only nineteen years of
age.
Nelson B. Stetson, Corporal (K), died at the General
Hospital, on the 1st instant, of fever. He leaves a wife
and child. He was one of Windsor's best soldiers, a
farmer, aged twenty-eight years. He was faithful and
reliable in all the positions of life, and from all I can learn
met death as one who had learned that "the sting of
death is sin, but thanks be to God, who giveth us the
victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." I attended his
funeral. We went to the hospital, where hundreds far
away firom home are learning the hardest lesson a soldier,
or any one, can learn, "to suffer and be strong."  Roses
in full bloom perfumed the fresh air blowing from the
river, but very many were wrapped up in the insensibility
or delirium of fever; inhaling, perchance, the fragrance
of flowers that grow around the old homestead, and cooling their fevered brows with breezes from their native
hills.  We went into the "' Dead-room."  There were
several corpses there, each one marked with the name,
company, and regiment of the deceased. Discarding the
coarse coffins furnished by government, we tenderly
placed all that remained of our comrade in a neat coffin,
provided by the thoughtfulness of Orderly Gleason, and
bore him without the lines. At the foot of a tree, just
bursting into bloom, on the shore of the Mississippi, we
buried him.'Twas sad, and tears from manly eyes attested how near home it came to each of us. Many have
looked forward to an early return to Massachusetts, perchance Nelson among them; many loved ones there have




190        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
oounted the few intervening days, and as that quiet grave
buries the hopes that gathered round him, so other graves
will receive some of our number, and the affections clinging to us. Friends will look for our return in vain, and
realize something of the price paid for a perfected liberty.
Near'this grave, Charles Bartholomew, of the same
company, is buried. He was a boy of eighteen, from
Sheffield.  Fever closed his career yesterday.  In the
army, burial follows death speedily. Neat head-boards
are placed at each grave, on which names and regiments
are painted. For a few years those boards will tell who,
for,their country, did die; then they will disappear, and
nothing but the heaped mounds will eloquently speak of
that class, who, martyrs at a bleeding nation's call, were
yet denied the proud privilege of dying on the field of
strive. The authorities are preparing a cemetery to receive our dead, but these scattered graves seem more
eloquent to me than any well-ordered grave-yard.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          191
LETTER XXIV.
CAMP BANKS, BATON ROUGE, LA., May 10, 1863.
MY DEAR L.':
The long desired paymaster has been here. Major
Brodhead paid A, B, E, and F on the 23d ult., and then
the money giving out, the payment of the rest was deferred till the 30th ult. We were paid up to March 1st.
When we contrasted our little piles with those of the
officers, we were almost willing to bear their superior
burdens for the superior pay. I do not think they are
paid too much. A real officer is worth more to the service than a private. If increased pay would increase
their efficiency, I would be in favor of that increase.
Their expenses are greater than ours. They have to pay
for the food they do not buy at cost of the Brigade Commissary, three times as much as for the same kind of food
at home. I have seen them where money could not secure food, and they were dependent on our generosity.
The members of Company D and E received on an average eight dollars more than the rest of us, yet only received pay from date of enlistment. By an error in payrolls, eight companies drew pay only from time of going
into camp. Though sickness is alarmingly on the increase,
yet pay-day has advanced the health of some, and would
of more, could delicacies be secured here. Pies and cakes
are poison, for they are generally shortened with grease
obtained from pork sold by the soldiers, some of which
was diseased. Vegetables are scarce, and in this land of
plenty, I have seen no edibles equal to the products of
Northern gardens, save dewberries. Provisions are so
high, that we can purchase but few good meals without
curtailing the comforts of expectant friends at home.




192         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Large quantities of greenbacks have been sent to those
friends. God bless the dear boys, needing money and its
comforts so much, yet to be so mindful of the claims of
parents, wives, and children. Such men will fight. For
the first time for months, have our sutlers (Springstein
and Langdon) been in funds, but pay-day came too late
for their success. They cannot send North for supplies,
and so have to purchase their goods at Louisiana prices.
Of course, we pay very highly for every thing we buy,
and then blame them unjustly. Two dollars per pound
for tobacco makes a big hole in our pockets. Pay-day
brought liquor and intoxication to light, so it became
necessary to close the saloons. For the sins of the few,
the many were punished.
The great event of the week has been the arrival of the
Sixth and Seventh Illinois Cavalry, under Colonel Grierson. For eight hundred miles from La Grange, Tenn., to
this place, they rode on their errand of destruction. This
raid injured the rebels millions of dollars. Near Bayou
Montecino, they met some Louisiana cavalry, by whom
they were cheered, but they changed their tune when
they found out their mistake, on being led prisoners to
this place. The Illinois boys are now our lions. Dusty,
dirty, and worn they look, but manifest a good deal of
that pride, which one of their number expressed: "I
would not give up my share of the honor of this raid for
a farm in Illinois." Many of them exchanged their wornout horses for the blooded nags of aristocratic stables,
and not a few sported watches and various articles of
jewelry. It was a grand raid, and has given Banks what
he much needs, a body of cavalry.
" Who has not heard of Grierson's raid,
And the feats of valor therein displayed?'Twas a brave, bold dash through the hostile land,
That scattered terror on every hand,
Making the rebel heart afraid
At the daring valor of Grierson's raid.




MIASSACHIUSESTT   VOLUNTEERS.             193
"Through their cities and over their streams,
The flag of the Union once more gleams;
There's a curse on the air, but in under breath,
As the troopers go on their work of death;
Like lightning flashes each loyal blade,
To light the path of Grierson's raid.
Onward, yet onward, the blazing roof
Echoes in flame to the cavalry hoof;
And fleeing forms in the midnight air,
Revealed by the war-pyre's ruddy glare,
Tell the story, in fear displayed,
Of the woful, terrible Grierson's raid.
Onward, yet onward, upholden the rein,
Till the Union lines are compassed again,
Where a meed of grateful honors is due
For the troopers bold, and tried and true;
And history never has deed portrayed
That brighter shines than Grierson's raid."
The prisoners, one hundred in number, were visited in
the prisons by many of the citizens of the place, and supplied with luxuries and bouquets. Most of them were
large, fine looking, but poorly dressed.  Some of Co. G's
men escorted them  to.New Orleans, where, I suppose,
they will be paroled, and set loose to fight us at Port
Hudson.
Humanity and prudence triumph, and we are worked
much less than before.  We have dress parade at 8 A. M.,
then have nothing to do till 4 P. aM., whnm we go out to
battalion drill. The morning drills had become a farce.
The considerate officers would take their men out as ordered, and then drill them in sitting and lounging exercises. So reduced were we, that it was rare to see
twenty men in a company at those drills, and the boys
say that one company presented itself at dress parade,
numbering one officer and one private.
L. Hedger (E) won the brigade prize of $5 for the best
shot in the brigade.  W. J. Campbell and F. Killredge
(C) were the next best shots.  We think that is pretty.0 Tri~-1  1~  VCU~1VU




194         LIFE'WTihI THE FORTY-NINTH
well for a regiment, many of whom never fired a gun before entering the army.
On the 20th ult., Companies A, D, and K, unde'r Colonel
Sumner, visited l)u Planche's plantation, nine miles below this place, to obtain corn. The men dined as usual,
while the officers enjoyed Du Planche's hospitality, which
was extended to the rebels only two days before, when
near twenty of our men were killed and wounded. A
Mr. Conrad, brother of C. M. Conrad, former Secretary
of War, oontributed some forty hogsheads of sugar to our
commissary department.  Various books, bearing the
name of Miss Conrad, now enliven our monotony. My
hands are almost clean of plunder; almost, for at the'deserted plantation of a tyrant, Mr. Hatton,'I'1 drew"
six law books. The books were odd volumes, scattered
about on the floor, doing no one any good. War may
obdurate the conscience, but I read them  with great
tranquillity and peace.
On the 15th April, Sergeant Brooks (C), -ergeant
Siggins (D), and Orderly Gleason (K), were appointed
by the colonel as second lieutenants in their respective
companies. How Governor Andrew will think these appointments tally with the law requiring the elections of
the officers of militia regiments, I know not. The two
last are of that class from which officers should come; intelligent, prompt, reliable. The above were appointed
to fill the vacanlAces occasioned by the resicnation of LJieutenant Wells'(C) (he never joined us after we left Ne-w
York), Morey (D), and Taft (KI), the latter of whom was
)r'Ostrated with sickness. Lieutenant Gleason was presented with sword and sash by his associate officers of
Cormn)anvy K. Colonel Surner has been  engaged for
montlis as pl-eident of a general court-marltial. Very
many cases have been tried,efore that court. Talenlted,
discriminating,   firm, h}umine, his superior for that post
could not be found in this department. Lieutenant Judd
has been appointed Regimental Treasurer, for which




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.   1]    9
his ulncommon ly fine business habits peculiarly adapt
Li:n.
Porter has passed Vicksburg with a part of his fleet,
anld now Banks can hold communication with Grant, A
signal station has been located on the top-mast of Farra-.gut's flag-ship, which runs up near Port Hudson, and siginals to those stationed on a mast'of one of Porter's vessels. This is rather provoking to the rebels, but they
can't help themselves. Nightly, we hear heavy firing up
the river, and hope the " forward march" will soon call
the Forty-ninth- into line.
Alas! how changed are we from the men who marched
in that celebrated "feint" on Port Hudson. Then, we
were woithy of any foeman's steel. Now, we are but
spectres. Our sick list stands seven officers, and two
halndred and ninety-five " enlisted men."  Remember,
these are only they who are "excused from duty."  We
do full duty as long as possible. Many of the "well"
properly. belong to the sick list, and some in that list ale
shirkers. Mortifying it is, but true, that well men are
found to play sick and to endure many of its penalties.
Tie result is, the surgeon becomes suspicious, and not
being infallible, remands some of the really sick to
ditty, and d.oig it, they die. A surgeon's task is no
pleasant one. It is hard to decide who of reduced men
are fit for duty, yet that duty must be done. The proud
spirited ones magnify their ailings that they may not be
charged with attempting to "shirk" their duties. Dr.
Rice tells of one man in his old regiment who cheated all
the surgeons and got his discharge. Whein he left the
harbor on his way home, he threw away his bandages and
crutches and cursed them all for fools. If the surgeon
could become personally acquainted with all the men, the
characters of not a few would shield them from suspicion
and undue labor. Dr. Winsor is a gentleman, and conscientiously performs all his duties. Naturally of a reserved temperament, he does not receive credit for the




1953        LIFE WITHI THE FORTY-NINTH
sy-mpatlhy he really feels. We generally attribute to Dr.
Rice superior medical abilities, and though with some
peculiarities, a larger sympathy. Young Morey makes an
excellent hospital steward. I do not think our0 Northern
phlysicians understand the proper treatment of the zymotic diseases of the South. It seems strange to give
quinine to men while fever is on them.
Every morning the sick call on the surgeons, who examine and prescribe for them. I have seen hundreds join
in that procession. A mournful procession it is, one that
would agonize many a Berkshire heart. I see it often,
lbit never witllout sadness. Ask many of them,'what ails
them, and they cannot tell. An unseen foe has consumed
their strength. Yet their fever lighted eyes, their emaciated forms, their shuffling walk and drawling speech tell
too plainly that sickness with them is not shirking from duty
They return from the surgeon " excused from duty." How
now to pass the weary day before starting for home is the
question; for few expect a return of strength till they
reach home. Alas! death is preparing for them a final
home. The water they drink, every thing they force into
their unwilling stomacls produces or increases a strange
feverishness. No cool spot invites them to rest. Their
tents are like ovens, yet they must choos'between them
and the unbroken rays of a Southern sun. Hordes of flies
by day, and insects by night prevent repose. Few gentle
breezes fan them by day, and the night brings no coolness
save the dampness reeking with malaria, a dampness so
great that our easy boots are hard to draw on in the
morning. Thus day and night pass. Each morning finds
them weaker; nothing to do, nothing to read, sources of
conversation almost dried up, they pass their weary hours
as best they can, sadly enlivened at times by letters from
loved ones they fear they may never again see. Often the
consuming monotony is gloomily broken by the funeral
drum announcing that with another and yet another comrade, the weary struggle with its longings for home is ended.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          197
At last they are borne to the dreaded and crowded hospitals. There, though they have better care and diet, unless.they have much of energy they rapidly fail. Sick and sickness are all around them, the gossip of the camp (an unconscious tonic) hushed, the mind has naught but to prey on
itself: Then comes from many a heroic soul: " Is this to be
my end? Was it for this that I left parents, wife, children,
all? Is this,- being an encumbrance to the army, the
realization of my hopes of serving my country?  Am I
here to die, where no glory can gild the final scene, and
where none of the tenderness of home can alleviate my then
anguish? Oh for one hour's strength! then the rush of
battle and the soldier's grave; that around thalt grave, those
who love me may mourn, nQt with pity, but with a proud
sorrow; saying'he died as he listed with his face to tile
foe.'"  No glory can gather round the final scene! Despairing hero! he erred; a halo of Christian and national
glory has gathered round many such final scenes. The uproar of battle is marked by no grander victories than won
by the uncomplaining heroes of the hospital. It is easy
work to meet death when a world is watching every blow,
ready to bind the victor's crown alike upon the brow of
the living and the dead. But, to fight a long, slow battle
with unconquerable disease, while our brothers are meeting the foe on the ensanguined field, whence our spirits
fly, calls for a loftier courage than that which places the
banner of the " forlorn hope" on the citadel of the enemy.
Then, one all-comprehensive thought of home and loved
ones, one grand rush and victory or death. Not so, him
who sees Death an already crowned victor, walking the
wards of the hospital to his cot. He has time for the
anguish of parting. IHe mourns at what seems to him an
almost inglorious death. Ile saddens as he thinks how
his aged parents will weep to hear their only boy in
death is lying low, or else forgetting he is dead, will sit
and listening wait for his step upon the garden walk, his
hand upon the gate. He-knows that a sister's eyes would




198         LIFE WITH' TH]E FORTYT-NINTH
flash could she but hear that he had nobly fought and
bravely died; that pride would mingle with a wife's sorrows to learn that in the thickest of the strife, hefliAqting
fell, and for the honor of the dear old flag, he yielded up
his life. He thinks of his boy and ifmagines that in life's
battle, he would fight the better and the braver to know
his faither's soul went out to God upon the field of strife.
War hbs no sadder chapter than that which records the
struggles of the true soldier, when he finds that God has
ord:ined the hospital, not the field, as his place of martyrdorn. It is this that lends bitterness to death, and
hard the struggcle before the sinking soul can exclaim,
"Thy will be done."
Soon, we may add to our "fallen brave" those who
die as soldiers ceave to die. I would inscribe an humble,I1n  temnoriin.m" to the l:heroes of the hospital.  Death
tired of waitilg fir tihe hour of carnage, has reaped many
into tile lonely graves that deck the shores of the Mississippi, since I last wrote to you. I wish I were better acquainted withl their lives that I nlight do them justice.
William J. Glead (B), a farmer boy from  Otis, aged
nineteen, died here of fever, April 14. He was a stranger
to nme. I only know him as a good soldier.
C:aleb C. Hinman, of the same company, died of fever.
April 16. H.is age was twenty-two years. He was a
farmer firom Becket. He was unmarried.
Isaac V. Wilcox (D) was cut down by fever, April
18.  I attended his funeral. We buried him near Stetson
(K), sad to bury him in his early prime (he was but
twenty years old), trebly sad to know that he was the
third- one of our number who was borne that same day to
luarial!. We fired the volleys over his grave, and th-oght
of a home in Barrington, over which a great darkness
was settling, and returned, realizing that O6e, who, thouth
weak in body, was ever ready and faithful as a soldier,
would no more greet us. Beloved in life by all, he was.
We love him no less now. A mother gave two of her




MASSACIIUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.'          199
boys to the service. God has seen fit to make the gift
of one an eternal gift. Happy, the parent who turps
away from this bereavement with a deeper, purer love of
country.
In Shelden E. Gibbs's death by fever, April 21st, Co. F
lost a quiet, fine soldier, and Stockbridge, a good citizen.
He was twenty-eight years of age, and a daguerrian by
occupation.
George Kolby (D), of Barrington, died April 21st, at
this place. His age was twenty-seven years. He was a
German, the stoutest man in his company; one, who all
prophesied, was most likely to endure the wear and tear
of a soldier's life. Death met him, as he meets so many
in this. climate, in the form of diarrhoea. He leaves a wife
and two children to mourn his early death.
James A. Jourdan (B) died of fever, April 22. Ife was
a farmer fiom New Ashford, and though thirty-six years
of age, leaves no family. He was a good soldier.
On the same day, of diarrhama, Co. B lost a good moral
man, and an excellent soldier,- in the person of Isaac Denslow, f:lrlner, of Becket. His age was thirtv-nine years.
lie leaves a flamily to remember the Forty-ninth with sadness. Ile was a nurse in one of our hospitals. Death met
him, and wife and children were far away, strangers
nursed him, and comrades buried him.
Ebenezer Hinman, farmer, of Sheffield, aged fifty-nine,
Jiied of diarrhcea, in our camp hospital, April 24. He was
the oldest man in the regiment, and while he had health
tould do and endure as much as any other, but like old
men, and especially in this climate, he had but little reserved strength to fall back on in the time of sickness.
Hie came with us, because the members of Co. E wanted
his advice and care. Though garrulous, Captain (he was
once a mnilitia offic(er and quite well posted) Hinman was a
inice old man, of excellent principles, and died with so
pleasant a smile on his face, that we thought he must
have "laid down to pleasant dreams."




200         LIFE mWITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Nelson M. Case (F), of Sandisfield, aged twenty-two
years, died of fever, in the hospital, at this place, April
25. T. M. Judd, his brother-in-law, was hastening to see
him, but Death travelled more rapidly, and Nelson died
without a brother's presence. He was a good soldier.
That is a matter of course, for he was a Christian
soldier. Early had he dedicated himself to God, and he
entered the army as a matter of duty. An only son, his
parents could illy spare him, and by pecuniary arguments,
tried to convince him that duty and interest pointed to
his remaining at home. He felt his country claimed his
services, and they were cheerfully rendered. He was
pleasant in his life, and though sorrowing parents, in their
loneliness, may find it hard to see that his early death
conduced to a nation's welfare, yet his grave eloquently
teaches lessons of patriotism. His brother-in-law has had
his remains exhumed, that the soil that gave him birth
may also give him a final burial.
Sandisfield has lost another of her citizens.  Milton
Smith (H), aged forty-four years, died April 28th. He
was cook for his company. I believe he leaves a family.
He was sustained in death by a trust in Christ. He so
lived amid the temptations of camp, that all unite in saying,'; a good man has gone to his eternal rest."
Waldo R. Fargo (F), of Monterey, died here May 2.
He was one of our fifers. He was but twenty years of
age. He left a good home to share the privations of his
soldier cpmrades. He was an excellent penman and
accountant; one of those bright young men whose loss
causes us to feel that this war may be a blessing, but a
blessing bought with the most precious part of our wealth.
At home and abroad, was Waldo esteemed. With him I
close the sad list. It may be a glorious list, but so covered
with blasted hopes, that many years will roll away before
weeping eyes can fully discern the glory. They sleep in
their quiet graves, a small portion of the host of New
England's dead.




MASStACTIISEETS VOLUNTEERS.                201
"Oh! chant a requiem for the brave, the brave who are no more,
New England's dead I in honored rest they sleep on hill and shore;
From where the Mississippi now in freedom proudly rolls,
To waves that sigh on Georgia's isles, a death hymn for their souls.
But not alone for those who die a soldier's death of glory;
Full many a brave, heroic soul has sighed its mournful story,
Down in the sultry wards and cots, where fever's subtle breath
Has drained the life-blood from their hearts, and laid them  low in
death.
As proud a memory yours, oh I ye who murmured no complaint,
Who saw Hope's vision, day by day, grow indistinct and faint;
Who, far from home and loving hearts, from all yet held most dear,
Have died I Oh I noble, cherished dead, ye have a record here.
New England I on thy spotless shield, inscribe these -honored dead.
Oh I keep their memory fresh and green, when turf blooms o'er their
head;
Oh! deck with fadeless bays their names, who've won the martyr's crown."
9*




202         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XXV.
CAMP BANKS, BATON ROUGE, LA., }
May 19, 1863, 10 P. uI.
MY DEAR L.:
The long expected "forward march" has come. We
are directed to be in line, in light marching order tomorrow morning at five o'clock. We feel this is no false
alrrn, no feint. We are to go home a tried regimlent.
We shall soon show if we merit the proud appellation,
"Massachusetts Soldiers!"
Last Wednesday, we marched sixteen miles as guard
to a supply train; thought the whole regiment was going,
but when we found the colors were left behind, we knew
there was little chance to win honors. The major was in
command. All we did was to carry fbod to Dudley and
return home.
Lieutenant Tucker (D) takes a position on Colonel
Chapin's staff. It was urged on him. I hope our loss
will prove his gain. R. D. More leaves us to aid the
Brigade Quartermaster. C. French is in the office of the
Medical Director. They are both from Company D, and
are detailed to do work requiring much business talent
and clerkly skill. More of the memnbers of Company D
have been defailed to fill such'posts than of any other
company in the regiment.
As we are on the verge of solemn events, this grave
poetry, as copied from the tombstone of a cemetery in
this place, may be pertinent.
"Here lies buried in the tomb,
A constant sufferer from salt rheum,
Which finally, in truth, did pass
To spotted erysipelas."




MASSACIIUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          203
And again, "Here lies the body of David Jones; his
last words were,'I die a Democrat and a Christial."'
Poor fellow!  he got party first and Christ last. In
the closing hour, when men are apt to see truth most
clearly, he may have seen the incongruity of his two
1lrlotessiolns and desired to establish their congruity by a
death-bed testimony. If he had reference to modern De-mocracy, it needed that the testimony be made as solenmnly as possible.
I heard a soldier pray at one of the negro meetings,
that God would hear the prayers of fathers, mothers,
wives, and "the lispings of our little ones."  Oh, the
powter of those little ones! There was scarcely a dry eye
in the house. Plainly, we say our "little ones" kneeling
in prayer for us, for there are few soldiers' children that
lhave not been taught thus to pray. I hope that God will
hear those "lispings."  We are nearing the hour in which
prayer awill mean more than it ever meant before.
We will march about four hundred and fifty strong;
all of the thousand who left Berkshire deemed fit for
duty, and many of them are not fit. The convalescents
will stay to aid in defending this place. As our brigade
has been alone for some time, we have manned the entire
picket line. We leave behind us, among the sick, some
of our most reliable men. Our marching against the foe,
without them, will be one of their heavy trials. The trial
is greater when they reflect that even their absence from
the field is not-likely to lengthen their lives to the day of
reunion with the loved ones of earth. My next, if my
own obituary shall not prevent it, may tell of battles
fought and won with the blood of my comrades; so, I
will prepare'against that sad contingency by recording
our deaths up to this date.
William D. Leonard (K) died here _May 12th, of fever.
He was from  Savoy, a married man, aged thirty-two
years. He is spoken of as a very ffice man, one who -attenlded to all his duties.




20a         LIFE WITTI THIE FORTY-NINTH
Samuel C. Bells (D), farmer, of Barrington, died of
typhoid fever May 14th, aged twenty years. The regiment loses in him a good soldier, and his company a fine
associate.
Seth R. Jones (A), a Savoy farmer, aged twenty-two
years, died of chronic diarrhcea in this place, MSay 16th.
A few days before his death he came from the hospital
to the camp, and his looks caused us to hope that he
would soon return to duty. The next news was that he
was dead. His captain speaks of him as a tip-top soldier.
He was steady, much respected, and sincerely mourned.
On the 15th inst., Francis Joray (I) died of fever, at
the age of thirty-eight years. He was from Stockbridge,
and leaves a family to mourn the loss of their provider
He was a good soldier. Though France.gave him birth,
he died in defence of American principles.
Sandisfield and Company H lost a steady, fine man and
reliable soldier (one of my best, says his (captain) of diarrhcea, on the 16th inst., Frederick P. Seymour, aged nineteen. He was a fine-looking man, and his character corresponded with his appearance. He was a farmer.
James J. Smith, aged thirty-nine years, surveyor, of
Sandisfield, died here on the same day, May 16th. He
leaves a family to cherish his name. He was a goodhearted man and respected by his comrades. Sandisfield
has lost many of those she offered for the nation's weal.
May their memories be cherished by her citizens and
their examples imitated. We feel that death has been
greedy- alas! these are merely the first-fruits, and I
close this record to go forth to his harvest. There is
life in death.  Our death may be necessary to the life of
Freedom. If so, amen!




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          205
LETTER XXVI.
BEFORE PORT HUDSON, LA., May 26, 7 A. M., 1863.
M1IY DEAR L.:
Precisely at 5 A. M., May 20th, Col. Sumner (Col. Bartlett being sick) led us from camp, and without any noteworthy incident, we reached Merrick's plantation, about
sixteen miles from Baton Rouge, where we encamped for
the night. For the first five miles, the road was shaded
with trees, and the boys got along comfortably. If a
man has any vitality left, a march through a Southern
forest is a matter of great pleasure. Every thing is prolific, and in many places the underbrush and vines make
an impenetrable jungle. The trees are gigantic; from
their branches hang the melancholy moss, and often
grape-vines descend and take root, and send up other
vines, till you have before you miniature Banian-trees.
Vines of various kinds form grottoes that are wonderfully
beautiful, and twining round stunted trees, present pyramids of beauty that would make our lawns, could they be
transplanted, the cynosures of all eyes.  Conspicuous,
pre-eminent is the magnolia. From a bed, first of very
dark leaves, then of bright yellow ones, springs a large
whitish flower, "a thing of b'eauty, and a joy forever."
The ravages of war had marked the houses on the road
since first we marched over it. The road itself was torn
up or obstructed in places. With the usual amount of
swearing, our trains safely passed the Bayou Montecino,
and we followed to meet the fierce rays of the sun.
Then the debilitated condition of the men was apparent.
Not seven alon6 felt out, as in our first march, their
name was scores. Many of them were unfit for the work




203         LIFE WITH THE FOnITY-NINTH
before-them. In defiance of the advice of their comrades,
almost in defiance of the commands of their officers, some
joined us. Honorably excused by others, they could not
excuse themselves. From afar they scented the battle,
and their convictions of duty were so strong: that they
could not stay behind. Perchance some have a dim presentiment that Death is on their track, and that the monotony and loneliness of camp would but hasien the
ravages of sickness, and they have com  hoping that
activity, excitement, and change of scene may strengthen
them, or that they may strike'one blow for their country,
and find soldiers' graves. Hope and will carried them
over weary miles, till failing nature caused them to sue
cumb. We loaded our wagons with them, and thus ri 
ding a while and resting a while, their comrades-in some
cases officers-carrying their guns, they kept up, or came
staggering on behind. In all their weakness, they remembered that the enemy was in front, and that their
country needed every fragment of a man who could fire
a gun af the foe. The buoyancy and cheerfulness that
characterized our first march towards Port Hudson had
disappeared, but in its stead was a determination, a fixedness of purpose, that boded no good to rebels. Many of
these men were fresh from the hospitals; others could
have remained in camp, where were some who needed
nothing but courage to. be effective men. Impending
battle tries the stuff men are made of.
We had marched near twelve miles, when orders came
for Co. G to return to Baton Rouge. That company is
not exclusively composed of Christians, and as they retrasced their steps, they showered on the author of that
order a volley of expletives not to be found even in Webster's Unabridged. Their return was a matter of regret
to us all, for they numbered nearly twice. as many as any
other company-their duties as provost-guards having
secured them  from  exposure, and consequent sickness
and death. I regretted it for Capt. Parker's sake. He




~,MASSACHIIU SETrS  VOLUNFTEERS.    207
was too unwell to command his company, so rode with
us, hoping to be counted in the day of battle. They may
find consolation in the enlargement of their sphere of
duties at Baton Rouge, and if the rebels learn the weakness of our force there, they may have an opportunity of
exhibitiit their prowess in battle.
The colonel rode to the ground in a carriage.  We
greeted  min with cheers.  We did not mistrust the lieutenant-colonel and major, but they were untried. In thle
colonel we have implicit confidence. His voice alone
keeps a regiment steady, it is so clear, so indicative of
self-possession. I never heard a voice'fuller of command.
"One,blast upon that bugle-horn were.worth a thousand' men."
Save the fiTing on the river, the night of the 20th was
uneventful. We killed a mammoth ox to serve out in
the morning. You can judge of its condition: some of
us secured the liver, and searched the animal in vain for
a quarter of a pound of fat to fry it in.
T'he morning of the 21st found, us early in line, and,
beefless, we hastily breakfasted, and continued our march.
We had marched but a few miles, when the battle of
Plain's Store commenced. Grover had encountered a
masked battery. I met a pioneer carrying a gun in addition to his axe and shovel, and relieving him of his gun,
took my place in the ranks of Co. D. I was but little
acquainted with the officers or men of my o'wn company
(C), and between Capt.- Chaffee and myself there was
much sympathy in relation to the great principles for
which we were to fight, and quite an intimate acquaintanceship, so I ranged myself under his command. Slowly
we pressed our way. Soon wounded men and bleeding
horses were brought to the rear. Shells shrieked and
bursted. Our first battle had begun. A strange sickness came over me. I doubted if it wre right for me to
fight, and was tempted to retre4 to the safety of tbe
quartermaster's department  But that was no time to




20 8        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
reconsider a grave question, so I fell back upon the con.
clusions I had reached in quieter times, though, in the
fear and excitement of the hour, I could not recall the
arguments that led to those conclusions, and determined
I would walk in the path of duty, though it led to the
jaws of death. I felt no more fear that day, fOr will triumphed. We pressed on to the music of shells-a music
shrieking, wailing, infernal. They tore through the
woods, in which Co. A was ordered to skirmish. Then
the 49th was advanced beyond the 48th Mass., and the
firing lulled for several hours. Facing new dangers, we
ate but little dinner, and endured the suffocating heat as
best we could, till agfain called into line. We reached
a large field, stacked our arms, and expected there to
bivouac for the night, but before leaving the ranks our
ears were greeted with discharges of artillery. Just
ahead of us another masked battery had been discovered.
The firing was so rapid that the roar was continuous.
Oh, it was grand! I never heard any thing half so in
spiring. It made the wild blood leap through the veins,
and stiffened every muscle. I had heard of the "joy of
battle."  I understood it then. "Fall in! Forty-ninth;"
and we wheeledround, bringing the left of the regiment
(B), instead of the right (A), in front. We marched into
a dense wood. The roar. of artillery was mingled with
the continuous volley of musketry. The genius of treason
could have selected no more appropriate place for a
masked battery.  B, K, and C pressed on till they
crossed a main road, and fired three volleys at the
enemy. The road through the woods was so narrow
that we could see but little in advance of us. Then
came, "About face! double-quick!" We thought it
was an order, and one-half the regiment turned from the
foe. I heard it plainly, though I did not "about face."
I saw that a large number didnot wheel round, and so I
went forward to see,and do what I could. There was
no panic, though the broken, routed 48th was tearing




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERSc          209
through our ranks. As soon as we discovered our mistake,'we wheeled and pressed forward. We reached the
main road. A caisson with a pair of horses tore past
us. We could hear wild shouts, and drew up in line of
battle to greet the advancing foe. He did not come.
The colonel ordered us to charge bayonets. Following
him, we entered a tangled thicket. Finding that neither
man nor beast could get through there, we came back
and "changed front"- always a nice piece of tacticsthus bringing us into our accustomed positions, and
marched back, hoping still to flank the rebels. Just
ahead of us was the gallant 116th New York. As we
came up, they charged with a wild cheer across the road
and through the woods. We passed by the slain and
wounded, half averting our gaze, fearing the sight of the
first dead might unman us. Theft we met Gen. Augur,
who said, with all the coolness and suavity of the drawing-room, "This way, colonel, if you please, with your
regiment."  The colonel bowed in response, and we
marched into an open space. Here the enemy had us in
full range, and the shells shrieked and bursted over our
heads as if a legion of fiends had been let loose. The
colonel and adjutant alone remained mounted.  We kept
on in good order till we reached a fence; on either side
of which we marched to the edge of the woods. I could
see the splinters fly from the rails, assuring me that the
valley of death was indeed before us. Though not quailing, it was quite a relief to hear, right on the verge of
the fiery forest, the order, "Lie down."  We obeyed.
Shot and shell plunged past us, which seemed not half so
fearful as the unbroken roar of musketry. While lying
there, what seemed a new battery, and very near us,
opened its treasures of death. The colonel directed
Capt. Weller to ascertain its position. Alone, he stepped
into the dark woods. A cannon-ball almost grazed him,
but he safely returned, unable to give the needed information. The firing lulled, and ceased. Riglht there the




210         LIFET WITIH THE FORTY-NINTH
colonel put us through some tactics, so as to increase our
self-possession. About that time a corporal of'Co. I
came straggling from the rear. The colonel wanted to
know what he meant by being away from his' company.
Ile' hesitated, and thd major was ordered to cut off his
chevrons, or corporal's stripes, which punishment was
speedily inflicted.
Soon after we had silenced the enemy before us, the
battle reopened in the rear, near our hospital, endangering the Wounded, and causing our quartermaster and his
staff to run a gauntlet of fire. For three-quarters of an
hour that fight was kept up, and then the enemy retreated. So closed a day's fighting, which had lasted,
with. an occasional lull, for nine hours. The rebels wvere
whipped at every point. Their dead and wounded left
on the field greatly exceeded ours in number. Our
troops bivouacked for the night on the battle-field. At
midllght, General Gardner sent in a flag of truce, and
received permission to bury his dead the next day. Our
loss is nineteen killed and eighty wounded, and a few
missing. Some of the missing were found making excellent time towards Baton Rouge. The casualties in our
regiment are as follows: R. -A. Green (A), ankle slightly;
J. BP. Scare (A); bullet passed through fleshy part of his
leg. He is doing well. S. Kettles (I), hand slightly;
Lieutahant J. Tucker (D), right leg. The brigade flag
made a conspicuous mark and drew many shells, one of
which exploded near Colonel Chapin and his staff, partially
stunning the colonel and shattering Lieutenant Tucker's
knee, so that his leg had to be amputated. He bore it
well, and his fine physical health will carry him safely
through it. As soon as the colonel heard of Lieutenant
Tucker's loss, he sent a message to him to be sure and
have his leg cut high enough. His own was cut too low
down and often he suffers much. He receives our hearty
sympathy, for he is a valuable officer, and a genial comlpanion. Deprived of one limb, yet his appreciation of




3MASSACIiUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         211
the sacredness of the cause, is such, that he will feel
vastly richer than those who, by staying at home, have
preserved all their members and sullied their honor.
In describing the battles in which we may be engaged,
I purpose to describe to you only the pai't our regiment
takes and so much of the engagement in general as may
be necessary to enable you to understand our history.
A soldier actively engaged sees a good deal of smoke, a
good malny men fighting, and can tell you but little save
what transpired in his immediate vicinity. We travelled
nea'rly north from Baton Rouge on the road to Bayou
Sara. Plain's Store is situated where that road crosses
te Clinton an(T Port Hudson road. It is, or wars, simply
a dclrug-store and post-office on the lower, and a masonic
lodge on the upper floor. North of this store, on- the
Bayoul Satra road, a masked battery opened on us, commelcilg the afternoon's fight or the battle proper. Gener'al Augur had selnt a section of artillery down the Port
Hudson road, with the Forty-Cighith Massachusetts, as a
support. You are aware infantry troops always accompaluy artillery, otherwise a small force of the enemy could
spike or capture our guns. Suddenly, and but fifty feet
friom the Forty-eighth Massachusetts; 3Miles's Legion, comprising near a thousand men, opened fire. The Fortyeighth ran down on us, just as part of our left had
emerged from  the wood-path across the Port Hdson
road. Two of our artillery horses were killed, so that the
gun could not be brought off; it fell into the hands of
the foe, but was after recaptutred. Oar left stood steady
and checked their advance. Seeing but a few men across
the road, the rebeJs came on through the woods to flank
us, and were met by the One Hundred and Sixteenth New.Ybrk, who were behind us. Had we been able to penetrate the thicket when ordered t.o charge bayonets, we
would have hemmed them  in between  us and that
regiment, and  bagged  them  all, thus lessening the
number of future foes and giving us much of that




212        LIF'E WITHI TIIE FORTY-NINTH
honor which now  properly belongs to the gallant
One Hundred and Sixteenth. That regiment made a
grand charge through the woods, and when the enemy
rallied near a grave-yard, repelled it and victoriously
closed the day.'
Our boys acted well. It is strange that they were not
panic-stricken. Veterans might have been, when ordered
to "About face! double-quick! " (we thought it was an
order) amid the hea:vy firing of concealed foes, while one
of their own broken regiments was tearing through their
ranks. One or two disgracefully fled, but the rest were
obedient to the orders they understood. The field officers were in front, where the danger was; and when they
came to the middle and rear of the long column (we could
only march through the woods four abreast), and we
knew what to do, we coolly did it. Sergeant-Major
Wylie was knocked over and stunned by the wind of a
shell, and several of the officers narrowly missed the fatal
blow. R.H. Wilcox (C) had a bullet pass through his
cap-box, belt, and blouse, which was finally stopped by his
pocket Testament at Luke xxi., 31. For once, at least,
he felt the power of the Word. His life-preserver was
presented, through Dr. Todd, by the Berkshire Bible Society. If spared to return, he ought to be a life contributor to that society. Captain Garlick captured a rebel in
the woods alone. Our adjutant acted nobly, riding his
little sorrel into the thickest of the fire, and showing
himself heir of the old Boston pluck. We'like him now
better than ever before.  Before, he appeared to us
only as an adjunct to the colonel. Not intimate with the
officers, not remarkably well drilled, not devoid of a little
of Boston self-complacency (though always the gentleman), and especially not being a Berkshire boy, he had
small hold on our confidence or affections; but we adopt
hinm now. If he is not as cool a:s the colonel (who is?), he
is his brother in courage. How soldiers love the brave!
WChen we were lying down o -the ground, and saw him




MASSACIIUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          21 3
quietly sitting on his horse, we concluded, " He'll do;"
and though he was quite emphatic in his remarks, and
not very flattering, when we " about face,?' we like him
none the less. When they were stepping back after that
false order' (we only retreated a few steps), Cffptain Halstead came dashing through the woods shouting, "Don't
be d( —d cowards."  I could not help replying (Massachusetts' pride was up): "We are not d-d cowards;
only tell us what to do."  Chaflee brought his colpany
(I)) around, and the rest followed suit, and all was well
again., It was amusing to see Sergeant Murray (D)
take a bewiihlered fellow by the shoulder, wheel him
aboult, saying, "The rebs are this way;" and when he so
understood it, that was the way he wanted to go. Befbre attempting to charge through the thicket, we drew
lp in a diagonal line across the Port Hudson road, ready
to fire.  Every second we expected to see the foe.
Strange thoughts flashed athwart our minds; the prominent one being, Will I get a chance to fire before I am
hit?
The next day, dispatches were read before. every regiment that Grover had joined Banks near Bayou Sara,
and that Grant had so invested Vicksburg, that General
Pemberton could not use his siege-guns. We cheered
with an energy that thrilled like electricity.  Oh, to have
made a bayonet charge then! Soldiers, machines! 7 Far
from it. The individual may be; the collective is the
most excitable, easily influenced object you can imagine.
General Sherman has come up the river road, and hems
in the rebels on the south, our left; Grover and Emory
on the north, our right; and we on the centre. Beat us
or surrender they must, escape appears impossible. We
have a large park of artillery, which is being added to
by heavy siege-guns from the fleet. The vessels above
and below Port Hudson may give us some help, but they
cannot attack it in front, for the river, still falling, has
fallen so much that the channel is too narrow for naval




214         LIFE VITH THE FORTY-NINTH
manceuvres. By assault or siege, the land forces must
do the work. We are in high spirits. We have met the
foe, and have. not been found wanting. The monotony
and inactivity of camp life are over, and we begin to understaind why soldiers are healthier on the march than
while in camp. Our rations taste more like food. We
have sormet'hing to look forward to, and the prospect of a
larger battle experience calls out our pride and our ambition;,nd awakens the determination to be worthy of
MIassac.husetts and of the cause, and, I may say, of Berkshlire. There is a charm to us in that word. "Rally,
Berkshire!" would inspire the Forty-ninth more than any
other war-cry.' Rally, AMassachusetts!" is too large,
the individual is lost in it; but each one realizes he is a
part of Berkshire, and is well content so to demean himself that Berkshire may say, "Well done!" For the Forty-eighlth AMassachusetts, we feel sorrow, not contempt.
Tlhev left their colors behind them in the flight. The
Ole Hundred and Sixteenth New York brought them
firom the field.
I visited Plain's Store. It showed the marks of war.
One of our solid shots passed through the lower story,
disembowelling one man, while in the woods was found
another man torn in pieces by a shell. Another shot
burst open the door of the Masonic Hall, and entered,
not reogarding the Tiler nor waiting the permission of the
Worshipfiul Master. It was the novel initiation of a
candidate, who gave ocular proof of his ability to
" work" well. A ball struck a piano in the adjoining
dwelling, playing  " Hail Columbia," with variations.
SoMlid trees were cut down, whole panels of fence broken
and scattered, and on the ground were bushels of grape
and canister.
Sunday morning, we marched nearer. Port Hudson. A
hot march it was. We progressed slowly, sending out
skirmishers to clear the way and prevent us falling into
an ambuscade. While on the r6ad, Gen. Banks passed




3MASSACHUSETTS VOLUIVTEERS.           215
by and was greeted with hearty cheers.  His looks
iIspired confidence, and the manner of controlling his
fiery horse bespoke nerve. He pleasantly remarked: "I
see straw hats are all the fashion." * Of course we had
to laucgh. He was dressed plainly and wore a slouched
hlat. The pictures of battles representing all in imposing
attire are far from  the truth. If the truth must be
spioken, soldiers on a march look slovenly, and the offiCters appear but little better.' Travelling in dust ankledeep destroys all distinctions in dress. When marching,
you must not suppose the order of the parade ground is
observed.  So we keep together, it little matters how we
step or how we carry ortr guns.  We slouch along, t;alking, smoking, laughing. I want to tell you once for all,
that a " line of battle" is the whole regiment in line, two
ranks deeps. AMass men as they are when parading
through streets, and scores would be uselessly slain.
Formned in line, a regiment, brigade, or division sweeps
on, and, if followed by another, there is generally quite
a space between them. The front rank fires and then
wheels to the rear of their respective companies and reloads while the rear rank is firing. This is the rule, but
often the practice is, fire how -and when you can, only
fire and that low, for it is easy when shooting at an enemy
five hundied yards distant to send your bullets over their
heailds. We had marched about two miles when a masked
battery opened. Fortuniately, it was directed away fiom
us. Had it been directed up the road, hundreds of us
would have fallen. To obviate this, one of our batteries
maade a cdetour through the woods andl we looked on at
tlhe artillery duel in comparative safety. The rebel shells
mostly fell short, disturbing nothing but some young corn.
Ours must have been better aimed, for in an hour they
withdrew their battery.  While the duel lasted, it was
very earnest and inspiring. Through all that Sabbath
day, batteries contended with each other; and at night
we encamped in the woods, within a mile and a half of




216         LIFT  WiTrH lThE FORTY-NINTHII
Port Ilauson, rocked to sleep by a music which is becoming quite familiar, to us.
We are yet in the woods; officers and all roughing it
alike. Our only'complaint is with reference to the
water, which grows scarcer and meaner the further we
advance. You may judge of quantity and quality by
this incident. On that Sunday, I was so desirous of a
drink that I went over to where the Indiana'battery was
engaged, a mile and a half off, hearing that near there
wv:iter could be obtained. Disregarding, in my thirst,
tile heat, the distance, the exploding shells, I went to the
spot designated. I smelt the fluid, turned from it with
nausea, and then swallowed one mouthful, which proved
a nmore speedy emetic than the " ipecac." of the surgeon.
For caoking, we cart water fi'om the neighboring wells,
meagre in quantity and poor in quality. A table-spoonful serves for a man's toilet.  Our main occupation
yesterday was the discovery and destruction of woodticks, a small, speckled bug with numerous legs to each
of which is attached a claw. He or she (it is venomous
enough to be a." she" rebel) burrows under the skin,
rapidly causing a small boil, and when you try to pull
him off you pull a piece of the flesh with him, and an
irritating sore remains to add another pest to your fond
recollections of the sunny South.
Dr. Rice has reached us, having travelled over the
road from Baton Rouge alone and at night. A battle
would be preferable to that night road. Running his
horse saved him from the attentions of some strangers,
who requested him to halt. Dr. Reynolds has been
added to our medical strength. This filling up the complement of surgeons suggests some unpleasant features of
the future. Colonel Sumner narrowly escaped capture, on
Sunday, by riding too near the rebel pickets. We could
illy sparebhim. We got some fresh beef to vary our diet.
One of the boys had such a hankering after his mother's
milk-house that he thought it was a shame that the milk




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          217
of a dying cow should be wasted, so he filled his cup
with that desirable fluid while she was kicking off the
mortal coil. Day and night the men are required to
keep on their equipments, a burden that has to be borne
to be appreciated. We nearly lost a part of our wagonmaster iHulet; a piece of a shell passed right under his
foot as he lifted it up. Mr. Brewster saw it and wondered
why he did not drop. His hour had not come, for which
we are very thankful.
Accompanying us is a Catholic priest, in a carriage.
He is amply prepared to act the good Samaritan to the
wounded as well as "' shrive the dying and to bless the
dead." All honor to the nameless Christian. In contrast is a Mr. Kelty, a brother-in-law of Lieut. Siggins.
One of his sons was killed in battle, and one murdered
in cold blood by a rebel officer, now at Port Hudson.
He comes on a message of vengeance. Such are life's
contrasts.
Last night will long be remembered by us. We
thought it probable the enemy would try to break
through our lines. Gen. Augur prepared to receive him.
Opposite the woods where we are encamped is an im.
mense field, bordered all around by a high fence and a
thick blackberry hedge. At right angles to the Port
Hudson road is a lane. Part of our brigade was placed
in the main road and part in the lane.  Gaps were
made in the fence for our artillery.  An open half mile
was before us. Hid, as we were, they could not see us.
Had they come, they would have rushed into such a
slaughter-pen that I shivered as I thought of it and
examined the priming of my gun. We lay down in
the moonlight and gazed across the field so intently that
we fancied we saw them approaching. The Colonel rode
along our line, saying: "Be steady! don't fire till I give
the command; wait till you can smell their breaths, and
then cut them down. If I see any man skulking to the
rear I will kill him, just as I would a rebel."  We';W tPod
10




218        LIFE- WITtI THE FORTY NINTH
for hours, but no enemy came; though heavy firing on
the right kept us in constant expectation of their presence. In the hush of night, hearing nothing but the
suppressed breathing of our comrades, waiting the moment of slaughter, the quiet moon gazing down on
us, as if teaching that our warfare disturbed not the
serenity of Heaven, yet furnishing us with an approving
light, we grasped our guns and gazed o'er the field,
peopling it with the advancing foes of God and humanity. It was a weird and never to be forgotten
scene.  At last we were allowed to sleep on our.arms, a few keeping watch; and so passed the night
quietly away, though an occasional gun would cause us
to grasp more tightly our weapons and to sleepily open
our eyes to see nothing but the quiet moon keeping
sacred watch above us.'As the morning dawned, we
rose from the ground and from fence corners and wended
our way back to camp and coffee. There are rumors
afloat that this is to be an eventful day, so I will bring
this letter to a close. No doubts about being in the line
of duty now trouble me, so I trustingly await coming
events, determined to live or die, as a higher power may
decide, in furtherance of the cause of righteousness and
justice.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.;219
LETTER XXVII.
BEFORE PORT HUDSON, LA., May 27, 9 A. M., 1863..
My DEAR L:
Yesterday morning we were aroused to the solemnity
of a soldier's life. Volunteers to constitute a "forlorn
hope" were called for. One field officer, four captains,
eight lieutenants, and two hundred men, were desired
from each brigade. We were expected to furnish five
from each company. As nearly as we could learn, a part
was expected to run from the woods and bridge the ditch
in front of the enemy's parapet or breastworks with
fascines, and then return; the other part to cross the
bridge thus made, and assault the enemy at the point
of the bayonet. How great the distance to run under
fire none knew, nor any thing of the nature of the ground,
nor the width and depth of the ditch. Of the.latter,
rumor says it is fifteen feet wide and twelve feet deep.
We judge by the ditch before our fortifications at Baton
Rouge. Calmly the officers of the different companies
presented the matter to their men. There were no attempts to awaken excitement, no appeals to patriotism.
The order calling for volunteers stated that their names
would form a " roll of honor," to be filed at head-quarters,
from which to choose subjects for promotion. I think
that had no influence with us. If more thanthe requisite
number volunteered, five from  the volunteers of each
company would be drawn by lot. Quietly and rapidly did
they come forward, as follows:. Major C. T. Plunkett,
Lieutenant T. Siggins (D), Lieutenant R. T. Sherman (E).
Company A —A. C. Howe, C. P.  Adams, D. Greber,
J. Malcomb, A. Wiesse, W. L. Burkett, E. A. Landon,
L. Merion: 8.




220        LinF  WITH THE FORTT-NINTE
Company B-S. l. Bennett, M. Goodell, A. V. Barnes,
W. Merchant, I. Nourse, G. M. Wood, G. Fitzgerald.
E. Brown: 8.
Company C-J. N. Strong, F. E. Warren,. E. King,
I. J. Newton, J. Noble, G. W. Fields, S. W. Tifft, O.
Murray, N. Cumlings, J. N. Knight, T. A. Scott, R. H.
Wilcox, Hi. T. Johns: 13.
Company D —W. S. Gilbert, T. Hensey, D. Heacox,
M. S. Reynolds, E. N. Hubbard, F. N. Deland, C. W.
Shutts: 8.
Company E-M. H. Tuttle, W. Amstead, F. K. Arnold, G. E. Callender, W. J. Clark, L. Hedger, H. S.
Hewins, A. Loomis, J. B. Loring, W. L. Wilbur: 10.
Company F —A. P. Silva, H. S. May, J. Crosby, G. B.
Potter: 4.
Company H-E. Ingersoll: 1.
Company I-Z. Barnum, W. Wilson, D. Winchell,
A. Smith, A. Farnum, A. S. Farnum, H. Vosburgh, R.
Groat: 8.
Company K-J. Curtis, P. Culver, J. J. Wolfinger,
S. W. Carley: 4.
It was hoped that the volunteers would all be unmarried men, and five of such will be selected from the
volunteers of each company, where it is possible. Callender, of our department, came up on Saturday, and you
will find his name in the above " roll of honor." Though
[ feared his friends might think I influenced him to take
that step, I could not feel free to urge him not to. I
knew nothing to prevent him, yet I believe I feel more
anxiety about him than about myself. Hulet wanted,nuch to go and fill up the complement of his company
(F), but it would not do to so deplete our department.
We left Captain Rennie sick at Baton Rouge, and, though
far from well, he has followed us, but will not be apt to
go into the field, as F and I have been ordered to guard
the rear.
The volunteers secured, sixty-two instead of forty-five




MASSACHUSET'S VOLUNTEERS.         221
(remember that G is at Baton Rouge), the fascines were
prepared, by binding branches and twigs together with
grape vines, thus making bundles about eight feet long,
one foot in diameter, and weighing from fifteen to thirty
pounds. I fear they are too heavy. If lighter, they
could be carried as shields, if the ground be smooth,
which is quite unlikely; now they must be shouldered,
leaving the vitals all exposed to the fire of the foe.
I would not have you think all our brave men volunteered. Many a man of family who will demean himself
to-day as a Christian soldier, left the superior danger to
those less trammelled, though some felt that duty called
them to the advance. I know not why I volunteered; it
seemed so much a matter of course, as it was the duty
lying nearest to me. I thought it was but right that I,
who had urged so many to enlist, contending that Freedom was at issue, should not bring a reproach on that
cause by any seeming unwillingness to risk my life in
its defence. We expect momentarily to be called into
line, and " the five" have been selected from no company
but Company C. I volunteered as one of D, and therefore am  still in doubt as to whether I am of the
elect or not. Amid the tumult and activity of the hour,
it is quite probable that no selections will be made, but
that all who have volunteered will go with the "forlorn
hope," save the representatives of F and I. Major Plunkett was really disappointed in the selection of LieutenantColonel O'Brien, of the *48th Massachusetts, as leader,
instead of himself. I suppose O'Brien was chosen because his impulsive, brave, Irish heart yearns to do
something to redeem the reputation of his regiment.
2,000 volunteers were called for to represent fbrty regiments of infantry. Judging by the "Forty-ninth," the
"forlorn hope" will number nearly. 3,000, one-half to
carry fascines, the other half to storm the works. Lieutenant Siggins (D) commands the fascine detachment
of our brigade. As Lieutenant Sherman (E) is sick, I




222         LIFE WITH TIrE FORTY-NINTH
do not know who will command our stormers. If we
have forty regiments before Port Hudson, we are less
than twenty thousand strong, for each regiment will not
average five hundred fighting men, We have cause to
doubt the result of this day's work.
Yesterday, after the volunteering and making of fascinas were over, you could find many penning messages
to the loved ones at home. On boards, on knapsacks, in
secluded places, they were writing, and if some cheeks
werd white; and tears rolled down manly faces, I think
you will credit them to some other cause than fear.
Having joined them in those farewell epistles, I know
something of their emotions.  Perchance, the struggle
between love of home and friends and the love of country
and duty was harder to pass through than the fiery baptism before us. Some may not have made their wills
(for we have but little to will save government claims),
but many willed their souls to God, or set their last seals
to earlier consecrations. In such hours, thought is very
active. Happy they, whose thoughts are fastened on the
atoning sacrifice, so they can meet man's wrath, well assured that they die, if die they must, battling for a cause
only less sacred than that that Thallowed Gethsemane and
Calvary. I will not say," less sacred," for here, with the
booming of cannon in my ear, I can hear the great sufferer
saying, " Follow me."  It is a part of the same causeit is our Gethserrane, our Calvary. This morning was
ushered in with the thunder of artillery. Hastily, we
breakfasted, and are now sitting in the woods, waiting
the "f'orward march." Serious and cheerful all seem.
There is no swaggering, but a quiet falling back on the
fixed will. More than one face is pale, but the firm set
lips speak of a power that can hold shrinking nerves
steady, though in the face of death. L, I may not
live to see the close of this delightful day, but this morning finds my soul more exalted than ever before. The
terrific cannonading summons up all my manhood, and at




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           220
limes I so feel the sublimity of our mission and the success
sure to crown our sacrifices, that I am almost ready to
shout, "' Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth and
good will to men!" Through war, we are pressing on
to a peace that will be a precursor of that time when
men " shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their
spears into pruning-hooks, and learn war no more."
This, even this, is more really peace than we had three
years ago. We are now "working together with God."
Those monster guns seem to shriek out, "Lord,; open
thou our lips, and our mouths shall show forth thy praise,"
and over all, under all the thunder, sounds the grand old
diapason, " God and Freedom."  I am glad I am right
here. I would not, for much wealth, miss the grandeur
of this hour. I can form some idea how much a soul can
live in a short time. Here scribbling, perchance my last
lines, my heart goes out in thankfulness to God for controlling events so as to lead to the Proclamation of
Emancipation. Graves are opening before me, wounded,
dying men are being carried to the rear; yet, I see how
much better all the slain of our battle-fields, all the martyrs of our hospitals, all the agony, loneliness, and desolation of' ten thousand darkened homes, than a continuation
of our national curse, that crushed the many and peopled
the abode of the damned. You may think I use strong
language; but I feel strongly, hope strongly, and, with
God's blessing, will fight strongly. I know now full well
that my courage will not fail  me. Help has been given
me, so that, though my whole system be unmanned, will.
stiffened by a sense of duty, will carry me through. Never
less did I feel vindictiveness; but the foe is in the way
of this nation doing God's work, and I shall willingly fire
no random shots.  I am glad to know that on our right
and on our left are massed negro regiments, who, this
day, are to show if the inspiration of Freedom  will lift
the serf to the level of the man. Whoever else-may flinch,
I trust they will stand firm and baptize their hopes in




224         LIFiE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
the mingled blood of master and slave. Then, we will
give them a share in our nationality, if God has no separate
nationality in store for them. "Fall in, Forty-ninth!" is
sounded. Farewell!








7-'=a
BATTLE-FIELD OF PORT HUDSON.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          22 5
LETTER XXYIII.
BEFORE PORT HUDSON, May 30, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
Having passed safely through the bloody scenes of the
27th, I sit down to give you an account thereof. When
ordered to march, we went down the road for about a
quarter of a mile, and there filed into a corn-field on the
east side of a wood, where wve remained for half an hour.
I suppose this move was to take us out of the range of
the shells, which we could see bursting around us. Our
pickets, under the command of Capt. Chaffee (D), had a
place, only less dangerous than the open field.  They
formed part of the support of Holcomb's (2d Vermont)
Battery, which kept up a fierce fire on the enemy, which
was fiercely returned. One shot struck a gun-carriage,
smashing it to pieces without injuring any of the men
surrounding it. Shells, bursting in the air, sending down
an iron rain, wounding several, made picket work one of
no ordinary interest. While lying by the wood, as I was
taking a few notes, and the Major had just observed,
"This will make history for you," an order came that led
me to the writing of history with something besides my
pen. We were commanded to return to our camping
ground and bring the fascines. Some of the volunteers
went, and some who had not volunteered were detailed
to go. They expected merely to carry the fascines to the
members of the "'forlorn hope," and then rejoin their
companies. We started for them, and after stacking our
guns, shouldered them. Callender got hold of a very
heavy one, I gave him my light one, and with the help of
Mr. Kelty (of whom I spoke in a previous letter), carried his. When we reached the place where we left our
regiment, we found it was not there; so, almost fainting
10*




226        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
with the heat (it was then noon), we bore our loads onward. On the.north edge of the last wood, between us
and the enemy, we saw our regiment. Call was made for
additional volunteers to join the storming party. Some
responded. I bore my~fascine, till General Augur met me
and told me to throw it down, as no one man could carry
it. "I told him, perchance two of us could; but he said,
"No; go back to your regiment." I started to obey him,
when I met the storming party advancing. Fortunately,
I did not stack my gun with the rest, but strapped
it on my back, so if I lost my fa:scine, I need not be idle.
Thus, I was prepared to join our stormers and went with
them the rest of the day. You can now see why some
who volunteered did not go in the forlorn hope, and why
some who did not volunteer, went. It was one of those
mistakes no one is responsible for. Those who did not
volunteer, yet went, bore themselves as bravely as the
original volunteers.  Capt. Halstead, of Gen. Augur's
staff, seeing Geo. A. Holland (A), a small, brave fellow,
with a fascine nearly as large as himself, expressed his
doubts as to his ability to carry his load, but Holland
said he would like to try it, which so pleased the Major
that he told him, if he came out safely to report to him;
he would be happy to see him. I send you a list of those
of our regiment who actually went in the " forlorn hope":
Lieut. T. Sigginstt (D).
Company A-D. Greber, C. P. Adams, J. Malcomb,
L. Merion, G. Holland, H. Grewe:-6.
Company B-S. H. Bennett, M. Goodell, W. Merchant, I. Nourse, A. V. Barnes, E. Brown: 6.
Company C —J. N. Strong, F. E. Warren, E. King,f
I. J. Newton, G. W. Fields, H. T. Johns: 6.
Company D-W. S. Gilbert, T. Hensey,* D. Heacox,t
E. N. Hutbbard, H. G. Mansir, F. N. Deland, C. W.
Shutts: 8.
Company E —-M. H. Tuttle,t J. H. Wood, G. E. Cal* Killed.  t Wounded.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         2'7
lender,t W. Amstead, L. Hedger, W. L. Wilbur,t W. J.
Clarke, A. Loomis, C. O. Dewey: 9.
Company H —E. Ingersoll,* C. Wright, M. T., O'Donnell, W. F. Fuller: 4.
Company K-J. Curtis, P. Culver, J. J. Wolfinger, S.
W. Carley,* B. Devine, J. Decker: 6.
Though unwell, Lieut. Sherman went with his company,
and acted bravely, till he fell, severely, we fear fatally,
wounded in the head and breast. Capt. Lingenfelter (C),
was sun-struck before going into the field, so the comimand of his company devolved on Lieut. Brooks, Lieut.
Foster being at Baton Rouge, sick. As Capt. Chaffee
was on picket, and Lieut. Tucker (who was on Chapin's
staff) wounded, and Lieut. Siggins in the " forlorn hope,"
Lieut. Smith (H) was put in command of Company D,
and led them bravely and well.
The volunteers of our brigade (to which had been
added the 2d Louisiana, Col. Paine commanding) collected
in the woods. In the mean time, Holcomb's battery had
been advanced to the front, and opened a fire more rapid
than ever we had before heard. It was one unbroken
roar, stirring up fighting blood as no martial music could
do. We could feel the ground tremble. The wind from
his guns shook our clothes as leaves shaken by the breeze.
While lying there, a shell came, crashing, bursting over
our heads. As was natural, we bowed, seeing which,
Col. Chapin remarked, "It is only a good-morning tQ
you, boys." A piece of the shell slightly wounded H. A.
Bristol (D) in the leg. Soon after, our whole brigade
filed into the woods. We lay there an hour, waiting the
signal of attack. In the lull of the cannonading, we could
hear heavy musketry fire on our right, telling us that our
brothers were already engaged in the fierce strife. I had
just carved " 49th M." on a tree, when some one (foolishly, I thought) cried out, " In fifteen minutes we start."
A mortal fear came over me, and a deathly sickness. It
setemed as if I had taken all the emetics and purgatives




228        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
knqwn to materia medica. I felt I could not go. I was
unmllanned; and, amid all, my mind was preternaturally
active, bringing up home, friends, things past and things
to come. This was my " bullet fever," my baptism of fire.
Summoning up what will had not been submerged, I
gradually became myself again, resolving to go on, till
strength should entirely leave me. Not there, not there
to faint and fall, was my prayer. Let nature not fail till
I saw the foe. That baptism over, and for the rest of the
day, I was as free from fear as I am now. I can truly
say, I felt not the slightest resemblance to fear, and was
never cooler in my study than in the battle-field. As we
were entering the woods, Dr. Rice gave each man half a
gill of whiskey. It was well done, for tremulously ex-'cited as we were, it was almost impossible to swallow
hard bread and salt beef.
At last we were ordered to fall in. The fascine-bearers
were in advance. Gen. Augur said: " Now, boys, chargq,
and reserve your fire till you get into the fort; give them
cold steel, and as you charge, cheer! Give them New
England!  A Connecticut regiment is inside, but they
have exhausted their ammunition. In fifteen minutes you
will be there. Press on, no matter who may fall. If ten
men get over the walls, the place is ours." We answered
only by grasping tighter our guns. Lieut.-Col. O'Brien
appeared in a state of intense excitement: "Come on,
boys; we'll wash in the Mississippi to-night."  We
emerged from the woods, turned to the right up a main
road. A small belt of timber to our left hid us from the
foe. The artillery had ceased firing; all was quiet, till
we passed that small belt and came in full view of the
rebels. Then, bullets, grape and canister hurtled through
the air, and men began to fall, some crying, " I am hit," and
one, " Oh! God, I'm killed."  Advancing a few yards,
we wheeled by the right flank and started across the fatal
field, Then, we could see our work. Full two-thirds of
a mile distant, we saw the parapet lined with rebels, and




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          229
great volumes and little jets of smoke, as muskets and
cannon bade us defiance.- For a few yards the field was
smooth; but difficulties soon presented themselves. A
deep ditch or ravine was passed, and we came to trees
that had been felled in every direction. Over, under,
around them, we went. It was impossible to keel in line.
The spaces between the trees were filled with twigs and
branches, in many places knee-high. Foolishness to talk
about cheering or the " double quick." We had no
strength for the former, aye, and no heart either. We
had gone but a few rods ere our Yankee common sense
assured. us we must fail. You could not go faster than a
slow walk. Get your feet into the brush and it was impossible to force them through; you had to stop and pull
them back and start again. As best we could we pressed
on; shells shrieked past or bursted in our midst, tearing
ground and human bodies alike; grape and canister
mowed down the branches, tore the leaves or lodged in
trees and living men. Solid shot, sinking into the stumps
with a thumping sound, or thinning our ranks; Minie
balls "zipping" past us or into us, made our progress
slow indeed. As the storming party was less heavily
loaded than the fascine-bearers, we would get ahead of
them, and had then to tarry till they got in advance.
They were our bridge. If they failed or fell, we were
helpless. With anxiety and despairing sorrow we saw
them fall, some from'bullets and some from sheer exhaustion. Seeing Callender down, I saitd, "For God's sake,
up my boy, we can do nothing without you." He cried,
"Go on! go on! I'm wcunded." Turning my eyes, I saw
Lieut. Siggins drop his sword, put his hands to his mouth,
from which the blood was gushing in torrents. It was no
time to help him, so on we pressed. Soon a bullet came
tearing through the left sleeve of my blouse. I thought
but little of it. Mly one thought was, will enough of the
f;scine-bearers be spared to bridge the ditch. Again we
had got in advance of them. They looked more like




2.3 0      LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
loa ded mules than men. Nearly all of them were behind.
They could not keep'up. As I watched, I could see one
after another drop, and round me voices moaned out"O God! O God!" and bleeding men dragged themselves to the safe side of the felled trees. Some, too
badly wounded, lay where they fell, all exposed to the
deadly rain. I saw no moreof the fascine-bearers, but
the white flag of Massachusetts passing by, I followed.
It was the State colors of the 48th Massachusetts. Soon the
standard-bearer was killed; an officer grasped the colors
and waved them aloft. In less than half a minute, his
blood had dyed the white silk of the banner. We had
then got within forty rods of the parapet. Save a few
scattered soldiers, we were alone. Officers we saw none,
so down we lay. Five of us were together, and were
congratulating each other on our safety. One poor fellow
had just put down his canteen, from which he had been
drinking, when a bullet passed through it into his leg.
He sought the protection of the nearest log. In less than
five minutes I was the only unwounded one of the party,
and a bullet had rent my blouse right over the heart.
Having no protection but a few thin branches, I fell back
a few rods where the branches were thicker. By this
time I was nearly exhausted, so I threw down my gun
and rested awhile. Campion (D) and a 116th boy were to
my left, and soon, Curtis (K), one of the fascine-bearers,
joined us. Finding it was useless to carry his burden any
longer, he had thrown it aside, and was seeking a gun
and cartridges. A wounded man gave him his. While
resting, the 116th soldier felt worried that I did not fire.
I asked him, "what's the use?"  "It will show your
good-will anyhow," was the brave fellow's answer.
Rather amused at rhaving my "good-will" impeached,
and having got breath again, I went to work, firing about
twenty rounds in the direction of the big gun, which I
could only guess at by the smoke. My gun got so hot
and foul that I dared fire it no more. At one time I




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          231
thought a bullet grazed and burned me; it was my hand
coming in contact with the brass of my cartridge-box.
The sun had made it so hot that I could not touch it.
Heat and smoke and powder produce an intense thirst.
Gun-shot wounds, at first, are not very painful, only
numbing, but they are followed with feverish thirst. The
cries of the wounded for water were heart-rending. I
brought a lemon to soothe me in case of accident. I tried
to keep it, thinking I would need it, but the wailing of
the wounded was too touching, so I comforted one of the
bleeding ones with it. God bless the dear boys! they
did not complain nor lose their interest in the fight.
Hearing that we were short of cartridges, they would
roll over and painfully take off their cartridge-boxes and
throw them to us. One good fellow, who was wounded
in the leg, threw himself on his back and fired as rapidly
as he could load his piece. We had been there nearly
an hour, and as the fire slackened, Colonel O'Brien came
springing across the logs, waving his sword, shouting,
"Charge! boys, charge!!"  I put my bayonet on, and
rose up to "charge." Seeing less than a dozen men
ready to obey the order, I laid down again, knowing that
obedience thereto was only a reckless casting away of
life. In half a minute, just ahead of me, he fell dead.
Rash, but brave, he did what he could to redeem the
tarnished honor of his regiment.
As we entered the field, we veered to the left, and the
regiment to the right. I stood up, hoping to see our
boys. It was not prudent to stand very long, but I satw
a body of men, their flags waving in advance of all, and
thought I could distinguish the dark blue pants of the
Forty-ninth. I was right, for I afterwards learned that
the men I saw were the Forty-ninth and Second Louisiana. Oh, how grand and beautiful did that old flag look
amid the smoke of battle! How majestic compared with
the sinister stars and bars that floated defiantly on the
parapet before,i! T ward the close of the engagement,




232        LIFE WITH THIE FORTY-NINTH
we were exposed to much danger by shots from our rear.
Some men, too cowardly to come up, were firing from
the woods, half a mile distant. All over the front of the
field, you could hear the cry, " Fire higher." I know not
if any were hurt, but some narrowly escaped wounds and
death at the hands of these cowardly comrades.  By
this time the whole brigade had sought shelter, and was
pouring into the enemy a stream of lead that kept them
from the parapet and from working their guns. Had
another "forlorn hope" with another brigade then attacked the fort under the protection of our fire, Port
Hudson would now be ours. Yet, perchance their cessation from firing may have been the result of massing their
forces against Sherman on the left, for he did not attack
till neat two hours after we did. I took advantage of the
comparative quiet, and it was only comparative, to find
Lieutenant Siggins, Callender, and some others of our
wounded. I found poor Siggins unable to speak; a ball
had entered his mouth, passed out of his throat, and then
struck his arm. He wrote to nme for drink. I got him
some coffee, but he could not swallow it. IHe wanted me
to take him off the field, but that was impracticable, and
would only have endangered several lives. I consulted
with some officers, who told me it would be in vain to
go for medical help. Ouri surgeons and assist:mts placed
themselves in quite as much danger as they had a right
to do. Siggins pointed to the regiment, and gathered up
sufficient strength to say, "Go."  Hunting the regiment
on such a field, and under fire, was an unnecessary exposure, and could result in no service, so I did not go, but,
finding a sheltered place, threw myself. down and slept.
By that you can judge of my exhaustion. I had hoped
the battle hour would bring so much excitement that I
would be strong, but my experience wlas like that of
others; exhaustion absorbed excitement.  A  man, on
such occasions, uses up a great deal of his vital energy.
How long I slept, I know not, but when I awoke, some




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          233
were stealthily carrying off the wounded on rubber blankets, of which we obtained a few from the dead. For a
while we would creep along with our bleeding burdens,
almost on all-fours, expecting every moment to be greeted
with a shower of grape. That shower coming not, we
became bolder, and walked erect, and soon bearing away.
the wounded, occupied all. Why the enemy did not fite
on us as we were retreating, we cannot imagine. According to the laws of war, it is honorable to do all you can
to cripple a retreating foe. Firing was going on on the
right, but they allowed us to retire unmolested. It is
said that some of our men on the right getting into a ditch
and no chance of escape presenting itself, hung out a
flag of truce, and escaped under that flag, and therefore
the consequent cessation of hostilities. I know not how
that was, but certainly we breathed more freely when we
reached the shelter of the woods. There, we met a surgeon, who gave us some kind of liquor. What kind I
know not, but I never tasted any thing half so good. The
nectar of the gods was nothing in comparison.
Leaving the field we found the road lined with ambulances and squads of men carrying the wounded on
stretchers and blankets to the hospital, which was only an
open place in the woods above our camp. All kinds of
rumors met us. The Colonel was mortally wounded, the
Lieutenant-colonel killed, the Major missing or dead, and
Capt. Weller had fallen at the head of his company. A
sad, gloomy time it was. At last, I obtained these particulars. The regiment pressed its way onward farther
than any other, save the 2d Louisiana. The Colonel was
on horseback, the only mounted man in the field. He had
to go that way or stay behind. With his regiment he
would go. How he got through the ditches and over all
the obstructions, I cannot conceive. His little horse leaped obstacles that seemed insurmountable to any horseflesh. Struck with his daring, it is said that the rebel
officers commanded their men not to fire on him, but




234        LUFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
deadly missiles flew thick and fast in that valley of
death, into which duty led him; and having gone about
fifty rods, a bullet slightly wounded him in the heel of
his good leg, and another shattered his left wrist. At.
tempting to grasp the reins with tis right hand, he fell
over the head of the horse, which ran to the rear. It is
said, that when some one came to help him, he asked
them, " Did you see Billy? he jumped like a rabbit." I
think that is true, for doubtless his main fear was that
lie could not go with his regiment; and though wounded,
he felt a soldier's joy, that he had been enabled to do his
duty, until he met a soldier's fate. It was a consolation
to him that the absence of one of his legs was not the
reason why he did not go farther, but rather one of those
casualties to which every one was exposed. Our left
went up, right opposite to the enemy's great gun, charged
with grape and canister. Their loss was fearful. Captains Garlick and Weston, especially, had an opportunity
to show what stuff they are made of. They kept the left
in that torrent of fire, steady and firm. There were no
braver men on that hero-crowded field.  When they
sought shelter, Sergeant Rising loaded the guns, and Captain Weston fired near a hundred rounds. I knew that
Rising would not fail. He is a Christian soldier. Stern
duty alone led him from a luxurious home. Such men
never fail. Some shirked, but on the Christian soldiers
no reproach can be fixed. Rev. J. H. Wood (E) convinced his company that grace and courage went hand in
hand. Sermons, proving the reality of religion, its power
to strengthen and comfort, were preached on that field
with an unction that silenced scoffing, and crushed infidelity. Rumor has it, that a craven fear,of life dishonored
some of our own regiment, but among them were none
whose banner-cry was " God and Freedom." The bloody
record of that day shows the immense value of a noble
idea, compared with the success of whicli, life is but the
merest dust in the balance. It becomes those who pro



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          235
fess a religion that teaches a swallowing up of the fear of
death to quit themselves valiantly.  They did so, and
that reeking field, with some of its slain and wounded,
will convince a whole generation that " religion is not a
cunningly devised fable, but the power of God unto salvation (from unmanly fear) to them that believe."
Quite early in the engagement, Colonel Sumner was
disabled by a wound in the shoulder, and the command
devolved on Major Plunkett, who did well, and came off
safely. I could speak in the highest terms of officers and
men, but as well-doing was the general rule, and shirking
but the exception, I refrain; for I might inadvertently
fail to mention all. It is not my mission to reflect on
any, neither do I credit all the charges of cowardice that
come to my ears.  Cowards, in self-justification, may
accuse others, especially when they have some real or
fancied wrong to revenge. I saw no man shirk. In the
"forlorn hope," none did less than his whole duty. One
man with the regiment sought shelter behind a log, but
the colonel's threatening to shoot him drove him to his'company on the " double-quick." He feared the colonel's
pistol and indignation more than the grape-shot of the
rebels. One fellow sought shelter by the wounded Callender, who asked him where he was wounded. Alas!
he could not tell. General Chapin was killed by a bullet
crashing through nose and brain. He threw up his hands,
exclaiming, "My God! they have killed me," and died,
one year from the day he was wounded in the Peninsula.
He was an excellent officer, a brave and good man. Perchance he would have been spared had he not gone to the
field in full uniform. T. Bach (F), our color-bearer, bore
the flag grandly, and though a six-footer, a conspicuous
mark for the foe, escaped unhurt, while every other colorsergeant in the brigade was killed or wounded. Thrice
did the colonel reprove him for going too fast. Our flag
has fewer marks of the battle than almost any other.
Some dodged to escape the showers of grape; that would




236         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
cause their flags to wave to and fro, making them more
liable to be torn. Bach dodged not, but walked proudly
erect as if feeling the dignity of his mission, and a strong
west wind blowing, kept the banner flying back, and so
presented but a small mark to the foe. If our colors are
not so battle-scarred as are some other, not superior
cowardice, but superior courage is the explanation. All
honor,to him! The colors are to a soldier almost as was
the ancient Shechihah to the Jews. Those dishonored,
and every true man feels a share of the stigma resting on
himself. High advanced, in the " fore front of the hottest
battle," have they ever been. We'll follow them to victory or honorable burials.
"' A fierce fight is a wonderful builder up and tearer
down of reputations. Heroes vanish, and the underrated
step up to the confidence of their comrades. Before, you
may estimate a man according tohis position or pretensions; after, you- know his true character, and respect
him accordingly. The morning of battle comes; an untried regiment is to enter a new field, to walk through a
fiery furnace, which shall try the inmost soul of each.
They advance. The fire in the furnace is growing hotter
and hotter. It is impossible to avoid the ordeal. What
is in the men's souls will certainly be forced out. The
enemy says nothing; for he has no powder to lose. You
will hear from him soon. On they march-tramp, tramp,
tramp,-and whiz, whiz, come the leaden ounces, and rut,
rut, comes the grape by the half bushel. A dozen, fifty,
ay, a hundred, fall.  Now, where is Colonel Bluster?
Sick! Go near him, and he gets worse; your presence
aggravates the disease. It has been coming on ever since
the'forlorn hope' was formed. W ell, where is modest
Captain Tagg, one we had thought should have remainmed in his mill or behind his counter? Walking quietly
along the length of his company, noting each absentee,
and steadying all by a few kind, quiet words. Back, lying snugly behind a log, you may s'ee Captain Blunt,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            23'7
whose hereditary heart-disease alone prevents him carrying out his repeated threats against the rebels. And there
is Captain Daintyl the village dandy. He looks dirty
enough now, but you see he has got a blazing fire in
his eye and in his heart. fHis company will fight. They
don't laugh at him now. So old idols are pulled down
and new ones set up. The boys know why this colonel
was sick, and he can never control them again. Captain
Blunt will threaten rebels no more in their presence.
That two hours' fight was like a sieve into which a
shovelful of gravel had been thrown. The sieve was most
terribly shaken; the sand fell through, and only the pebbles remained.
"It is curious to note the diseases affecting certain
soldiers on receiving news of an impending battle. Sick
ones leave the hospitals, and well ones seek to occupy the
beds just vacated. The bully of the squad is sick. He
has a terrible pain in his right arm, his legs feel queer, his
head reels. Do you order a coffin for him?  If the surgeon is a little verdant, he will send him to the hospital,
and in a few days boast of his ability to cure diseases. If
he. has been a surgeon before, he will see that he is put in
the front rank on the morrow, or give him corn-gruel by
day, and blue pills at night. Then, there are others who
are always in their places when the column is formed,
but when the grape comes, they are to be found in the
rear with a sprained ankle, or terribly overcome by fatigue,
or sunstroke, or with a wrenched back, and are not found
again till they return shouting'victory,' and telling of
the way they dropped big rebels, who would certainly
have killed them  if they had not-' shirked behind a
stump. These are they who make the loudest noise on
their return home, and as you listen to their valorous
deeds, you are surprised that any rebels are left unkilled.
You wonder that they jest over the bloody scenes of a
battle-field, remembering
He jests at scars who never felt a wound.' "




238        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
)By and by you understand them, and though they may
not be poets, you find they have a vivid appreciation of
Butler, who writes,
"Those that fly may, fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain;
Hence timely running's no mean part
Of conduct in the martial art."
"Bullet-fever" is a real fever, from which few are
exempt. To feel fear is natural; to yield to fear is
cowardice. Some never carry fear with them into the
battle-field. They leave it on the fiery margin. There,
they experience the terrible baptism of battle, with its
sinking, and sickening, and trembling, which for the time
unmans more than mortal disease.  Happy they who
overcome this before facing the foe. Then, no danger of
panic reaching them. Having conquered their own hearts
and nerves, they may be killed but not subdued. It is
will that counts in the composition of the brave. If there
be enough of pride, of moral strength, to call up will, you
have the unflinching soldier. Weakness of will is often
counteracted by strong convictions of duty.' I will do my
duty has made many a timid heart brave; ay, kept them
steady before Death, though their nerves trembled at
every burst of artillery, every "zipping" of a bullet.
They who experience this baptism suddenly, when in
actual conflict, will become panic-stricken and spread
the leprosy of fear over a whole regiment, perchance, a
whole army. A man may go through several conflicts
and never be thus tried. Constant excitement, a series
of victories may delay the hour of his soul's trial. At
Plain's Store, we were rushed into the midst of danger so
unexpectedly that activity and excitement precluded that
baptism. Not so on the 27th.  For twenty-four hours
we faced the question and endured the ordeal. Strengthened, we passed through it, and made the " Forty-ninth"
not unworthy to be ranked as Massachusetts soldiers.:I
have written much about emotions and experiences. I




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          239
could not have done so the day after the battle. Then, it
would have seemed profane. Now, it is easy. Soldiers,
living on the verge of death, may not become indifferent
to slaughter and wounds, but they regard them with
much less concern than do you who only read of them,
and soon rise above their sadness. It is well that it is
so. A constant exercise of sympathy would illy prepare
us for our stern work. Morbidly afraid at home of the
sight of blood, it affected me none on the field; though I
nearly succumbed when I visited the hospital on the 28th.
To return to the regiment. I give you a list of our
killed and wounded. You will see that Captain Weller
is not among the slain, but it is not his fault, for he was
conspicuous among the brave. From our own men, and
from men of other regiments, I hear his valor spoken of
in the highest terms. Though wild and rollicking, we
never heard Weller swearing that he would do great
tilings, but when the time came he did them. Francis
nobly seconded his efforts, and together they received
the unflinching support of Co. A., than which there is
no braver company.
Colonel W. F. Bartlett, wounded; left wrist, severely;
right foot, slightly.
Lieutenant-Colonel S. B. Sumner, wounded; left shoulder, slightly.
Company A.-Killed: L. M. Davis. Wounded: Captain
Weller, leg, slightly; Lieutenant Francis, head, slightly;
J. Bryce, right arm amputated; M. H. Horton, head,
slightly; C. E. Platt, leg, slightly; W. Reed, head,
slightly; H. Rucktashell, side, slightly; J. Rodgers,
knee, slightly; W. Tuggey, neck, badly; H. L. Root,
leg, slightly.
Killed, 1.. Wounded, 10.
Company B.-, Killed: J. M. Gamwell, G, Fitzgerald.
Wounded: Lieutenant Kniffin, arm, slightly; A. F..Bliss,
leg, flesh wound; S. H. Rossiter, breast, seriously; W.
D. Bliss, leg, flesh wound; H. R. Clark, side, slightly;




240        LIVE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
J. A. Francis, head, slightly; S. L. Sturtevant, foot; F.
Belcher, right leg amputated; C. H. Cook, chest, severely; H. D. Wentworth, abdomen, seriously; HI. H.
Davis, flesh wound, leg.
Killed, 2. Wounded, 11.
Company C.-Killed: A. Griswold. Wounded: Captain Lingenfelter, sunstroke; Lieutenant C. H. Brooks,
leg, flesh wound; W. H. Cranston, abdomen; E. King,
leg, flesh wound; J. H. Olin, head, severely; J. W.
Bowles, head, severely; D. Braumwalder, thigh; J. H.
Wells, sprained ankle; J. Stevens, shoulder, slightly.
Killed, 1. Wounded, 9.
Company D.-Killed: M. Bracken, T. Hensey, M. S.
Reynolds. Wounded: Lieutenant T. Siggins, throat,
severely; H. A. Bristol, leg, slightly; J. W. Evans, side,
severely; D. Heacox,-elbow, slightly; B. Shelley, hand;
J. McGowan, leg; M. S. Beach, back, slightly.
Killed, 3. Wounded, 7.
Company E.-Killed: H. S. Hewins. Wounded:
Lieutenant R. T. Sherman, side and head, severely,; M.
H. Tuttle, shoulder, slightly; G. H. Palmentier, shoulder,
severely; F. K.. Arnold, wrist, severely; W. Fogarty,
hand, slightly; D. Foley, hand, slightly; J. E. Hinton,
wrist, severely; W. Maxwell, head; W. J. Wilbur, both
thighs, severely; G. E. Callender, hand, slightly; A.
Brett, side, slightly.
Killed, 1. Wounded, 11.
Company H.-Killed: Lieutenant B. D. Deming, A.
Allen, E. Ingersoll. Wounded: A. Hitchcock, arm; H.
L. Beach, severely; J. Vincent, head, slightly; J. Northway, hand.
Killed, 3. Wounded, 4.
Company K.-Killed: H. E. Warner, S. W.'Carley,
L. Funk, T. C. Shaw, S. Dowd. Wounded: Lieutenant
I. E. Judd, grgin, slightly; Lieutenant S. B. Gleason,
thigh, slightly; R. E. Phelps, leg, amputated; H. A.
Parmlee, elbow; G. W. Allen, leg, severely; S. Brocha,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          241
leg; J. W. Bidwell, head, seriously; S. M. Fullerton,
shoulder, slightly; G. Watler, leg; D. S. Bliss, thigh,
severely.
Killed, 5. Wounded, 10.
On that fatal day, sixteen were killed and sixty-four
wounded; eighty in all, of the 233 men of our regiment
who went into the field. When we consider that we
were under fire less than three-quarters of an hour before
ordered to seek shelter, we may well call it a fierce conflict, for more than every third man was cut down. This
was about the average loss in the whole brigade. Of the
eighteen officers engaged, eleven were killed or wounded.
If that is a test of their valor, brave men were bravely
led. Considering the short time we were actually under
fire without shelter, and the history of this war records
no more fearful slaughter than met the first brigade on
the 27th of May. The old name of the field was Slaughter's field. In the best blood of New England its name
has been confirmed in baptism. Of the forty-four, who
went up in the'~forlorn hope," only three were killed
and six wounded; or one in five. Thus, it turned out
that ours was the path of safety. It happened on this
wise: When we came in sight of the rebels, they fired at
us with every kind of weapon in their possession. Grape
and canister were mixed with solid shot, shell, and bullet; but when they saw the whole brigade following us
closely, and then marching to the right of us in line of
battle, they bestowed their deadliest discharges on them,
and from that time, we were mainly greeted with bullets;
especially was this the case after they saw that most of
the fascine-bearers were disabled, rendering us comparatively ineffective. With the regiment proper went up
189 men, of whom 71, or two in every five were killed or
wounded.
Sadly, we returned from the unavailing sacrifice. The
night was full of gloom. Nervous reaction made it still
more gloomy.' It seemed hard to send men after such a
1 1




242        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
day's labor to stand on picket during the night, but necessity knows neither law nor mercy, and the old picket had
not been relieved for forty-eight hours. To increase our
gloom, the battle-field took fire, and in agony, we thought
of our comrades, struggling with pain and thirst, on
whom the billows of flame were rolling down, and none
to help them, none to save them from the most fearful of
deaths. We could do nothing but gaze and shudder.
Humanity led some of the rebels to face the bullets of our
pickets and extinguish the flames before they acquired
full sway. All night long the surgeons were at work.
On the operating table were the victims, whose shrieks
of agony but partially deadened by chloroform, illy prepared the wounded all around them, for their hours of
martyrdom. Lying but a few rods from the hospitals,
frames unstrung after the physical and mental efforts of
the day, we slept but little, and were glad when the
morning came that we could see to aid the suffering or
get away from their harrowing cries. The most severely
wounded bore the surgical operations with the greatest
calmness.  Perchance their exhausted natures soonest
yielded to the influences of stupefying draughts. Too
much praise cannot be awarded to the medical authorities. Nearly every thing wounded men could want was
at hand. Ministers of the Christian Commission and
others did all that loving ingenuity could devise for
their comfort; but having done all, how much was left
undone that home-care would have performed! Happy
they, who, in insensibility or fatigue, could forget the
surrounding horrors. The conscious could but imagine
the worst. They knew not whether they carried in themselves the sentence of disfigurement, incapacity, or death.
I visited them in the morning, found most of them cheerful and doing well; but laid one side, with hands tenderly
folded ahd faces respectfully covered, were the dead,
showing that a fearful night had followed a bloody day.
The surgeoRs coutinued at their work-without a moment's




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            243
intermission. Seeing them amputating with sleeves rolled
up, splashed with blood, here a pile of booted legs, there
a pile of arms, was more trying than the horrors of the
battle-field. As fast as they were operated on they were
carefully conveyed to Springfield Landing, and thence to
Baton Rouge, where ample provisions had been made for
their comfort. Ere the evening of the 28th, nearly all
had been thus removed. On the road to the landing, at
Lilley's Station, a tent had been put up, where the
wounded received iced-claret punch and such other luxuries as they needed or craved. Never was any military
department in so high a state of excellence as is the
"Department of the Gulf." Wounds, sickness may be
before us, but what mitigations our circumstances will
allow will be ours. In spite of all, many of the wounded
will die. In this climate, with blood already diseased,
hemorrhage soon follows the slightest wound. The extremest care has to be taken to prevent the wounds from
becoming maggoty. We hear that some of our most
severely wounded are doing well, and that of those reported "slightly wounded," not a few are hovering on
the brink of death. God prepare loving hearts in New
England for soul-darkening news.  Patriotic fathers,
mothers, wives, children are there, who will try to bear
their sorrows proudly, but, for a while, nature will conquer patriotism. Sad though they will be that they were
not present to receive and speak the last adieu, yet it
were sadder to gaze upon fearful sufferings no love could
alleviate. Certainly, not then; ay, not till other affections have, in some measure, led them from their great
loss; perchance, never will they be able to say with the
stern Roman:
"Thanks to the gods I my boy has done his duty.
Welcome my son I There, set him down, my friends,
Full in my sight; that I may view at leisure
The bloody corpse and count the glorious wounds.
Who would not be this youth? What pity'tis
That we can-die but once to save our country."




244        LIFE WITH THE FOArY-NINTH
Away from these mangled frames, I might enter into
sympathy with such sorrow; here, I value more even that
" grief that does not speak, but whispers the o'er fraught
heart and bids it break."
After we returned to the camp, every thing was done
to render the boys comfortable. The Major set the example, and was zealously followed by the officers. Late
as it was, and fully engaged as were all of the medical department in caring for the wounded, he would not rest
till a full ration of whiskey was furnished. In our inmost
hearts we thanked him. Muscular exertion drawing the
blood to the muscles, mental anxiety drawing it to the
brain, our stomachs loathed food and even commissary
whiskey was a luxury. It allayed the fierce, burning thirst.
What rest we got that night was mainly owing to the
Major's pertinacity in securing for us our ration of liquor.
Almost the only plleasure in returning to camp was the
meeting those firom whom the surges of battle had separated us. We clasped hands, and eyes were wet. Not
unfrequently did we embrace as women. Officers and
privates were brothers then. They had been baptized
into one family. Never will those with whom I went in
that "forlorn hope," how forlorn! be as common friends
again.  There, we entered the sacred brotherhood of
-soldiers.
On the morning of the 28th, we brought in our dead.
The burial party saw many guns, blankets, etc., lying
round, but under a flag of truce neither side can carry any
thing away, and so they brought nothing but our slain.
The pockets of some of these had been rifled by (we have
reason to fear) members of the 2d Louisiaina. One or
more from each company comprised that party, so as to
be able to identify all., Mutilated, as many of them
were, identification was difficult.:They brought them to
the eastern verge of the wood, where we rested just
before we charged. As best they could, without coffins,
they buried them. A few years and the mounds will




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          245
disappear, and nothing will remain to show where our
BerkShire brave rest. They died well and their works
do follow them. Liberty needed a fresh baptism. Their
hearts, not unwillingly, yielded the sacred element. So
long as Liberty lives, their memories will be cherished.
Names will be forgotten, but from the graves of these
" unnamed demi gods" shall go forth a living spirit that
will raise up an unbroken succession of those who count
duty to country a part of duty to God. To these graves
every patriotic heart is united, and proudly may they
slumber over whom God and humanity say " Well done!"
The burial party report that the rebels have put up new
guns with which to open other graves if Slaughter's field
shall again be made the scene of conflict. As nearly as
they could judge, the ditch is fifteen feet deep and eleven
feet wide, and the parapet eight feet in height.
Gloomily we passed the day after the battle, doing
nothing but writing home and resting. Towards evening, the body of Lieutenant Deming was brought in, and
we were preparing to have a prayer-meeting when the
order came, "'Fall in! Forty-ninth!" -We could: hear
firing to our right, and knew not but that our courage
was again to be tried. Unstrung nerves and timid
hearts protested, but a few steps of marching and
that feeling passed away; yet we were glad to find that
nothing more serious was before us than to guard the
lane, to cut them off if they should try to escape. We
were revengeful enough to hope they would try it. We
had been in a slaughter-pen where the advantage was all
on their side; now, we desired them to come on, where
positions would be reversed. Of course they came not,
and we have but little reason to expect that they will
come. Our repulse has, doubtless, encouraged them to
believe they can hold their ground, but unless we are
attacked by a strong force from the rear, Port Hudson
will, ere long, be ours.
I approach the obituaries of our slain with diffidence.




246        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
My materials are so limited that I can but do injustice
to some, with whom I was least acquainted. Of many,
all we know is, they went through life, quietly performing its duties, until, in discharge thereof, they died at the
bidding of their country.
_Lieutenant Barton D. _Deming was in his thirtysecond year when he nobly died. Before the war, he
lived the life of the quiet farmer, respected by all. "Respected by all," is emphatically true of our late comrade.
Comfortable in circumstances, happy in his domestic
relations,. retiring in his disposition, nothing but the
voice of duty called him to a soldier's life. He became a soldier because he was a Christian. Making his
will, and prudently regulating his affairs, on the supposition that he would not return, he was prepared to do
all that was required at his hands. Singularly quiet,
only those most intimate with him knew his worth.
In the command of his men he was kind, ever laboring
to smooth their pathway. I roomed with him on the
steamship Illinois, and found him gentle and obliging,
grateful for every attention, and claiming little as his
right.  None ever said, "shoulder-straps" lifted him
above himself. Few wore the marks of rank, thinking less of them. Though deficient in self-esteem, he
knew full well that the man was greater than the officer,
and his military worth consisted in throwing around the
latter the dignity of the former. The boys on picket
wanted no more considerate commander than Lieutenant 
Deming. Sickness gave a sombreness to his countenance
that was not in his heart. He was unwell when he came
*up to this place, but sense of duty was stronger than
illness. When we were lying down on the edge of the
woods, I looked at him and thought Lieutenant Deming had a presentiment of death, his face was so sad.
He, himself, seemed to think. the day would be a fatal
one to him, and requested Lieutenant Smith (H) to take
charge of his money, but as Lieutenant Smith was to




MASSACHUSEfrS VOLUNTEERS. i        247
meet the same danger, he refused. He was last seen
alive at the head of his men, gallantly urging them on.
His death could not have bee1 a painful one. A ball
pierced his head, speedily ushering him from the battle
of life to the peace of Heaven. In response to his
friends in Sandisfield on receiving from them a sword, he
wrote, " Hoping you will hear a good report from me if
ever on the field of battle, I bid you all God speed."
The report will go back to his native town, and better
none need desire. Their gift was stained with his own
blood. His pockets were rifled, and their contents, including his watch, gone. He kept his money in a pocket
in the inside of his shirt. That Lieutenant Smith secured.
Nte brought him to camp and buried him in the field
opposite. Away from loved ones, he was not without
sincere mourners. Honored in life and in death, his
friends may well mourn for hiin proudly. We feel that
death has been to him great gain.
Luther M. Davis (A), was a farmer, from Pittsfield,
aged twenty-one years. When found, his body showed
marks of having been burned, but the fire added, nothing
to his suffering. His death, caused by a shell taking off
the top of his head, must have been instantaneous. An
excellent soldier-, one of the very best of his company; a
steady, frugal, good man; a youthful husband, he there
sank to his honored rest.
John 7f. Gamwell, corporal (B), was a carpenter and
school-teacher, from West Stockbridge. He was a very
fine, well-educated man, respected in his company. He
was wounded in the leg and arm and bled to death, at
the age of thirty-seven years, leaving a family to mourn
him and to remember May 27th, 1863, as the burial-day
of many a fond hope.
Garrett Fitzgerald (B), aged twenty-one years, from
Lanesboro, was a brave Irishman and an excellent soldier.
He was one of the original volunteers for the "forlorn
hope," but, owing to circumstances I have detailed above,




248        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINflTHI
he did not go therein. He leaves a wife to hope in vain
for his return.
Ihenry D. Werntworth (B), a fariner-boy, from Windsor,
aged twenty years, was so fearfully wounded in the
abdomen that all that could be done was to give him
opiates to ease his sufferings, till death should usher him
to his heavenly home. IIe bore the reputation of a
Christian soldier, and died May 29th, as he was being
conveyed to Springfield Landing where he now lies
buried. Of course he was a good soldier. "He was a
Christian boy," said one of his comrades. He fell in a
cause worthy of a Christian's death. Having kept himself unsullied from the vices of the camp, and dying as
he did, who may say "he died an untimely death??"
Such a dead son is worth more than many living sons.
Albert Griswold, corporal (C), was a quiet, excellent
soldier. He was a farmer, from Dalton, aged twentyseven years, and leaves a wife and child.
M3arcus Bracken (D), was an Alford farmer, aged thirtyone years. He leaves behind him a family. Another
brave Irish soldier poured out his life's blood in Freedom's cause.
Thomas IHensey (D), shoemaker, from Barrington, was
yet another of.the sons of Ireland who, on that sad day,
gave up his life that this country might remain the hope
of the world. He was a remarkably good soldier, and
in his twenty-second year nobly fell in the vain attempt
to bridge a way over which we might reach the heart
of slavery.
LIills S. Reynolds (D), was'a good soldier, from Barrington. He was one of the original volunteers, and fell
in his nineteenth year.
Horatio S. 1Hzwi;s (E), aged twenty-three, was a fine,
quiet, honest farmer, from Sheffield. A good member of
a good company. His name belongs to the "roll of
honor," though he did not go in the " forlorn hope," for
which he volunteered.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         249
Eugene Ingersoll (H), of Lee, aged nineteen years,
represented in himself his own and a father's willing
offering to a needy, bleeding country. He was a bright,
smart, well-educated boy and a fine soldier. Though
sick, he joined his company, when we were ordered to
march on the foe, but soon fell out of the ranks, and we
carried him in one of our carts. Alone of Co. H.,
he volunteered in the " forlorn hope," and doing its perilous duties, he met a soldier's fate. Pride will mingle
with the grief in that Berkshire home when loving
parents hear that Eugene was faithful unto death."
Albert Allen (H), was another of those farmer boys
Sandisfield sent to the war, and of whom, in life and in
death, she may well be proud. Death has been busy
with her soldiers, yet has made her rich in patriotic
memories. Her dead, lying in honored graves on the
shores of the Mississippi, are the most precious part of
her wealth. Young Allen, only twenty-two years ofage, was one of the noblest of her boys. Steady, moral,
a first-rate soldier, he did honor to a mother to whom
country was more than children, of whom she gave
several to the army. One, an officer, was killed at
Vicksburg, and now Albert lies at Port Hudson. She
can appreciate how much the freedom of the " Father
of Rivers" costs. We left him sick at Baton Rouge,
but his eager soul yearned for the field of duty, and so
escaping from camp, he joined our ranks, and now
proudly sleeps among The "' fallen brave."
Theron C. Shaw (K), was one of those fine, pleasant,
farmer boys of whom Sheffield gave so many to the
ranks of the Forty-ninth and to the graves of Louisiana.
TIe was but eighteen years old when he was much torn
by an exploding shell and died.
Luther Funk (K), of Mount Washington, was a nice,
clever boy of eighteen. He was shot through the bowels
on the 27th, and died the next day. He fought and fell
by his ffather's side; fell so nobly that the soldier heart
11*




250        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
of the father must have then been prouder of his dying
boy than ever before. Parental love could not save him,
but by his grave has placed a good head-board to note
the place of his burial. This done and the lonely father
turns again to meet the foe.
Solomon.Dowd (K), farmer, of Monterey, aged titrtysix years, was fearfully mutilated.  His leg and hip
were smashed by a discharge of grape and railroad.
His left hand was cut off. Returning, he said to his
captain, "I couldn't bring back my gun, but it is so
battered that it will be worth nothing to the rebels."
He was an odd being, but died, on the 28th, a hero's
death.
Steran  W. Carley (K), farmer, from Monterey, aged
thirty-eight years, was a Christian warrior. He was
one of the "forlorn hope."  Quiet and firm, he made a
model soldier. He was wounded in the wrist and
bound up that wound, when another bullet entered his
heart and closed his noble career. He leaves a family
and a name of which that family may well be proud.
Elenry E. Warner, sergeant (K), aged twenty-four,
farmer, from New Marlboro, was shot in the thigh before he had far advanced in the field. He wanted his
captain to stop and bind up his wound, but that was impossible; and Weston, speaking a few kind, last words to
him, led on his company to where was appointed for
them a fearful reaping. He bled to death, and there was
none to help him. Round him were the dying and the
dead. Up amid the hills of Berkshire were parents,.
wife, child, who but little thought on so bright a day so
d.ark a cloud was gathering over their future. They
knew not that Henry, dying, was yearning for them;
and that, on Slaughter's field, his soul was going out to
God. He was a worthy man, with an education and
character that would have secured him an honorable
position in life, but not a position more truly honorable
than the one hallowed with his dying blood. He fell,




MASSACHUSEITS VOLUNTEERS.           251
and a nation's brightness and glory is his mantle; Freedom's renovation his epitaph.
"Immortal names! 0 noble ones!.A nation's heart will throb
For ye, who fell in manly prime, for freedom and for God,
And woman's eyes grow dim with tears, and manhood bows its head
Before thy deeds of valor doneo —Ne England's honored dead."
The Colonel has gone to Baton Rouge, and we hear
that fears are entertained that he will lose his arm. To
lose leg and arm, and to go thus maimed through life,
would be a heavy lot. The wound in his heel is very
slight and will trouble him but a little while. I suppose
he is lost to us for the remainder of this campaign, and
it is a loss we deeply feel. The Major interests himself
personally in our well-being and measures yet higher in
our esteem, but we feel that ours is an irreparable loss.
For months we have tested our commander, and always
found him up to our expectations. I am too little acquainted with him to know whether he has the qualities
of a great general. Admiring him as much as I do, I
should doubt the propriety of substituting him for
Banks, but would have no hesitation in voting him in as
a brigadier. Colonel Paine (though outranked by Colonel
Johnson, 21st Maine), 2d Louisiana, is now in command
of our brigade. I suppose he was appointed because his
is a three years' regiment, though when the nine months'
men go home he will have only his own and the 116th
New York regiment for a brigade. Had Bartlett not
been wounded I think he would now be in his place.
Confidence in him is not confined to us, but I have heard
privates and officers of other regiments express regret
that he could not be Chapin's successor. In that position he would be saved much exposure and many
dangers, and would imbue his whole command with a
confidence that would render them twice as effective as
under Paine. We praise Bartlett because he emphatically treated a private as well as an officer, in some oases




252         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
better, for I have known him to censure officers for
tactical mistakes in no very polite words, and that, too,
in presence of their own men. He erred there, for such
censuring was calculated to destroy the respect of the
soldiers for those officers and to awaken insubordination.
I look upon it as a grave error. Mistakes in tactics'were
the unpardonable sins in his sight, and drew from.him, on
one occasion, language more forcible than pleasant. It
was the only time that I knew him to use words that
were not peculiarly appropriate to the conventicle. I
have had a good deal of business intercourse with him,
and always found him reserved but respectful, and this is
the testimony of all p:'ivates who have been thrown into
his presence. I have never heard any of them say that the
Colonel treated them otherwise than as gentlemen. In
the transaction bof public business I found him scrupulously exact and honest. One of his greatest virtues as a
military man is his coolness. For that he is remarkable.
He has not popular manners, cannot unbend and be
sociable, yet maintain his dignity, to his inferiors, and is
bashful (wAien we cheered him as he left his carriage and
mounted his horse as the battle of Plain's Store commenced, he blushed, as if ashamed of his popularity), but
he is a strong, faithful man, in whom a regiment may
confide, and in whom they may fully rely. Take him all
and in all, the colonel of the Fqrty-ninth is a marked
man. We have been proud of him, and in bidding him
a virtual farewell as our commander, nearly every heart
adds the fervent " God bless him!"
We have also lost our Adjutant, and that too just as
we were beginning to appreciate and admire him. He
goes on Gen3ral Dwight's staff.  Colonel and Adjutant
gone, eighty killed and wounded, we feel almost as if the
Forty-ninth was disbanded, forgetting that scattered
around' is quite a formidable number yet remaining.
Lieutenant Francis is now acting adjutant, and a better
one we could not well have. We kaew he was kind, polite,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          253
a good business man, and he has proved himself a brave
soldier. Fred makes a good officer. He has those qualities that the surgings of battle bring out in bold relief.
He ought to make arms his profession.
It is said that our brigade is not to be put into the
front again, save as a matter of extreme necessity. That
is right, for we are dispirited, having lost confidence in
our generals. Who originated the assault of the 27th,
we know not. Some say that all the generals were opposed to it, but Banks insisted; and others have it, that
it was Chapin's project. It might have been a success,
had the attack been made simultaneously on the right,
centre, and left; but, as it was, Weitzel on the right,
where the enemy had some works outside their parapet,
commenced at 6 A. M., and was engaged till 4 P. M.; we assaulted at 11 P. M., while Sherman did not start till 3 P. mt.
At 2 P.: M., he received peremptory orders to charge.
Then he had to mass his men and form his storming party. Being attacked at different times, the enemy could
mass his forces against each division, and so cut us off in
detail. After we had been on the field over an hour, we
could see them double-quicking to the left to repel Sherman; who, from all I can hear, was drunk. When he
did attack, he recklessly exposed himself, and was wounded in his leg, which has since been amputated. The fascines were too heavy and few. Had a thousand skirmishers crept up as they might have done in comparative safety, they could have kept the walls clear, and
silenced most of the guns, so the bridges could have been
laid, and the stormers entered upon their bayonet work
unexhausted. It was a premature assault.
Few scenes are as full of moral sublimity as that of a
brigade walking right up into a valley of fire. See one
man, in a righteous cause, facing death, and all within
us is called out in admiration. How much grander the
sight, when a long line of a thousand meets a wave of
fire that they must dash back, or allow it to submerge a




254        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
nation's fondest hopes! To see them enter, where earth
is crowded with deadly missiles, and death is hurtling
through all the air, is a spectacle never to be forgotten,
the remembrance of which confirms us in our high estimate of man's inherent devotion to his convictions of
duty. Humanity needs such spectacles to keep alive our
hopes for the race, which in time of peace, seems to be
digging its own grave, amid the rubbish of earth.
Under the walls of Port Hudson, the mooted question
was forever settled, and friend and foe admit that "the
negro will fight."  The First and Third Louisiana Native
Guards assaulted on the right. The former regiment
was composed mainly of free negroes of French extraction. Many of them were men of liberal education and
wealth. They were commanded by negro officers. The
latter regiment consisted of slaves or contrabands, the
field officers of which were white, and the line officers
black. Thus, free and bond, but negroes all, 1,080 strong,
gathered together to prove to the world, that valor and
manhood are not the exclusive attributes of the white
race. They did prove it, and for all time. Men, who
had often cowered beneath the master's lash,, met those
masters in the death struggle, and manifested their Godgiven equality. All agree that none fought more nobly
than the "native guards."  They drdve the rebels from
their outer works, and against them, behind their formidable intrenchments, made six distinct charges. Six times
they repeated our charge. True, they had to advance
but two hundred yards under fire, while twelve hundred
yards lay between us and the foe, but six times did they
go over the ground, heaping it with their slain, and
pressed into the ditch, over which a few gallantly passed,
and mounted the ramparts of the foe. Short of ammunition, their negro brethren of the engineer regiment, carried them cartridges, defiant of the iron hail that poured
down on them. Three times beaten back, their commander, Colonel Nelson, sent to General Dwight for




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.               255
orders.  That earnest son of Massachusetts replied:
"Tell Colonel Nelson I shall consider he has done nothing
unless he carries the enemy's works."   Perchance,
Dwight felt, infallibly proving the valor of the African
was worth hundreds of their lives. He was right, and
they felt it too. Hoping against hope, realizing that
they were to lift up their race from the degradation of
centuries, three times more did the remnant go into that
valley of flame.  Human bravery was ineffectual-to accomplish impossibilities, and the survivors, heroes all,
sadly, but triumphantly rethrned.  Nearer than any
others did the "black brigade" go, and many a proud
master found, in death, that freedom had made his slave
his superior. We had expected that they would be equal
to a grand rush, but did  not expect that they would show
valor, where valor meant the extremest exercise of the
human will. The 27th of MIay was not a lost day. A
race of serfs stepped up to the respect of the world, and
commenced a national existence. The bond everywhere
will remember that charge, and woe to them who shall
try to re-enslave a race, which has now such a wealth of
historic recollections.
"Dark as the clouds of even,
Ranked in the western heaven,
Waiting the breath that lifts
Ail the dread mass, and drifts
Tempest and falling brand
Over a ruined land;
So still and orderly,
Arm to arm, knee to knee,
Waiting the great event,
Stands the black regiment.
"Down the long dusky line,
Teeth gleam and eyeballs shine;
And the bright bayonet,
Bristling and firmly set,
Flashed with a purpose grand,
Long ere the sharp command




256           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Of the fierce rolling drum
Told them their time had come,
Told them what work was sent
For the black regiment.
"'Now,' the flag-sergeant cried'Though death and hell betide,
Let the whole nation see
If we are fit to be
Free in this land; or bound
Down, like the whining houndBound with red stripe's pain
In our old chains again!'
Oh I what a shout there went
From the black regiment I' Charge' Trump and drum awoke;
Onward the bondmen broke;
Bayonet and sabre-stroke
Vainly opposed their rush.
Through the wild battle's crush,
With but one thought aflush,
Driving their lords like chaff,
In the gun's mouths they laugh;
Or at the slippery brands
Leaping with open hands,
Down they tear man and horse,
Down in their awful course;
Trampling with bloody heel
Over the crashing steel,
All their eyes forward bent
Rushed the black regiment.
"'Freedom I' their battle-cry-' Freedom! or leave to die I'
Ah I and they meant the word:
Not as with us'tis heard,
Not a mere party shout:
They gave their spirits out;
Trusted the end to God,
And on the gory sod
Rolled in triumphant blood.
Glad to strike one free blow,
Whether for weal or woe;




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.               257
Glad to breathe one free breath,
Though on the lips of death.
Praying-alas, in vain l —
That they might fall again,
So they could once more see
That burst to liberty I
This was what' freedom' lent
To the black regiment.
"Hundreds on hundreds fell;
But they are resting well;
Scourges and shackles strong
Never shall do them wrong.
Oh - to the living few,
Soldiers, be just and true I
Hail them as comrades tried;
Fight with them side by side;
Never, in field or tent,
Scorn the black regiment 1"
I credit the assertions that the rebels barbarously refused the negroes burial, until the stench of their corpses
made it a matter of self-preservation, and that they inhumanly murdered their wounded and prisoners, piled them
up on the parapet, and nailed them alive to the trees, where
their comrades could witness their dying struggles. I
credit it, because they have often declared they would
show them no mercy if they fell into their hands, and because I know that nothing would so enrage them as to be
compelled to measure arms with a despised race, who
had always rendered them the most servile obedience.
It is now time for roll call, and I close this long letter.
Roll calls are becoming solemn things.  On the morning
of the 28th, eighty were not there to answer. When the
names of the dead were called, the only answer was a
solemn silence, and we thanked God for our own preservation, and sadly thought of the bereaved, who shall call on
loved ones only to hear from their lonely graves, "dead I
dead I dead!"




2,58        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XXIX.
BEFORE PORT HUDSON, LA., June 10, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
We are yet encamped in the woods, from which I
dated my last letter, and are much improved in spirits.
The depression, caused by what seemed to us a useless
sacrifice of life, is wearing off, but we are no't as buoyant
and reliable as we were before the late battle. Then, we
went, fully confiding in our generals, wherever ordered,
and went cheerfully. Now, we would obey, if - corn
manded to repeat that charge, but with so much of reluctance as to destroy half' our efficiency. Confidence,
once lost, is regained slowly. Now, if Banks would but
come and utter some earnest, patriotic remarks, sympathizing with our losses and our valor, it would bind us to
him and anew to the sacred cause.
Massachusetts troops are enigmas to those who know
them not. They are cold-blooded, and to hear them talk
before fighting, you might esteem them cowards. Some
men know what " battle-joy" means. They are generally
earnest, deep-souled, nervous men, who are never quiet
save when working. Their central natures are so strong
that they do not find happiness in the trifles of life, but
give them genuine excitement and they show what manner of men they are. The prospect of a battle, in a cause
sacred enough to enlist all their sympathies, is joyous to
them. Taking no pleasure in slaughter, morbidly shrinking from blood, they yet hail that hour with gladness,
feeling that there is a time vouchsafed when they can
practise the heroism their souls have garnered.- I can
dimly see that there is such a class in the world, but they
are not from Massachusetts, yet, -save in the matter of




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          25 9
dash, this nation has no better troops. Talking as if they
would like to go home, and shun the coming danger, yet,
at the word of command, they step to death as coolly as
to dinner. WbVhere the dash fails, and nothing but will,
hardened by contact with moral education and principle,
can uphold, they are pre-eminent. I saw our farmer-boys,
seemingly as cold as Greylock, and about as enthusiastic,
meet the wave of fire as if they had been trained from
boyhood amid the veterans of Napoleon. When bullies
succumbed, those quiet ones, who would so suddenly
have disappeared from a bar-room fight, as to be taunted
with cowardice, pressed firmly on, or calmly met the
death, daty and pride would not allow them to shun.
There is no man so fully imbued with personal pride as a
son of Massachusetts. At home, he will quarrel with
that distribution of wealth that puts another in a place
of imaginary superiority to him, and with a good deal of
desire to drag others down to his level, will persistently
labor to place himself at the head of the list. This democratic equality, sometimes run mad, this constant asserting, in the face of fancied superiors, " A man's a man for
a' that," is not always attractive, but ally it, in a greater
or lesser degree, with convictions of duty, and you have
a soldier, who, in the bloodiest field, will prove his divine
equality. The 27th of lay gave me, who am not "to
the manor born," a better insight into the pluck of Massachusetts braves than I ever had before. I know none
who will meet impossibilities with more of hope and will.
Though they have not the showy courage of some, yet
they deserve the foremost rank.
We he-ir little now about time being nearly out. Most
are indifferent about a few weeks, more or less; the great
question is, Will we be spared to go home at all? There
are rulmors of an attack on the right to-morrow, and some
brigades are preparing their fascines, and we may possibly
have a part therein. Not a few think it hard to be thus
pushed into danger, so near the expiration of their service.




260        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Were they yet bound for over two years, they would
have no such thoughts. Now, crops out the evils of enlisting men for so short a period as nine months; yet, I
suppose, men who had enlisted for ten years would feel
the same way, were their hour of discharge so near, but it
looks worse for us, for we have done so little and seen
so few dangers.
The "Sunny South" sounds nicely enough as you ride
over Berkshire hills, facing a northwester, with the mercury twenty degrees below zero, but here, with that mercury at 950 in the shade for weeks at a time, the poetry
all disappears. Get under a tree and look down the road
you have to travel for a mile, and you can think of nothing
but a "furnace of fire."  Every mote in the air looks
like a particle of flame. An hour after sunrise or an
hour before sunset and it is seemingly as hot as at noon.
A heavy thunder-storm passes over, and the next day is
as oppressive as the day before. For the whole twentyfour hours your body is moist, or dripping with perspiration. If your are cool at night it is nothing but the dank
moisture, driving fever to your vitals. Showers have
been infrequent, and the dust, pulverized by the tread of
thousands of men and beasts, is more than Ankle deep.
The trees and bushes are covered with it, and in the
sun-light look like smouldering fires. We dress accordingly. A straw hat, a shirt, a pair of breeches, and of
shoes (sometimes stockings), complete our wardrobe.
Some tried to dispense with the use of shoes, but the
ground was too much like fire to allow them to continue
that kind of economy. Our dark blue pants have no successors in this department, and we are saving our new light
blue ones to appe:r creditably when we march through
Pittsfield; so, a more ragged set can scarcely be found
this side of the Five Points. Who finds a pin, labors to
make himself presentable; but, as our "pin-money" is
about exhausted, we fear that decency will yet drive us
to the original fig-leaf. This might be avoided were our




MASSACIHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         261
blouses as long as the demands of modesty. As we
brought no change of apparel, some -need those blouses
as substitutes for the shirts they throw away. As the
government has nearly doubled the price of shirts, a few
economical ones made a search for water, and found some
thin mud in the ditch of an abandoned rebel fortification.
There, minus soap, they graduated as washerwomen, and
quite frequently dried and ironed their wash on their
backs, so as to-return within the prescribed time. Truth
requires me to say, that they did not much improve the
appearance, though they may have added to the sweetness, of their garments. Whole clothes are desirable
everywhere, much more in a country where bugs and insects of all kinds, from wood-ticks to lizards, are seeking
places of shelter. Flies and mosquitoes have not yet
followed us to camp, for which we are duly thankful.
Port Hudson, as a hygienic institution, is vastly superior
to Baton Rouge. I see Lieutenants Foster and Reed,
Orderly Jennings and others, have left the hospitals of
the latter place for the post of duty and of health. We
are all in better physical condition than for months before.
Considering we are in the field, we are fed well and
hugely enjoy our rations. It seems that Uncle Sam has
been reserving the " best wine for the last of the feast."
Our sick are improving rapidly. Though we experience
somewhat of monotony, it is the monotony of excitement, by which we thrive."
Our army is constantly gaining ground. We have
driven the enemy from many of his advanced earthworks
into the main parapet. The way we work is this-we,
that is, infantry soldiers, throw up a breastwork as a
protection to artillerists, some six feet high inside, and
from thirty to a hundred feet long, according to the number of guns to be placed in position. - Bales of cotton are
rolled along, behind which we commence digging. A
solid shot striking one of these bales square, or a shell
bursting against it, makes much confusion, but that is




262         LIFE WITMl TIHE FORTY-NINTH
not often done. The greatest danger is from discharges
of grape and canister. The breastwork is from fifteen
to twenty feet thick at the bottom, sloping up to about
three at the top. The hole from which this dirt is taken
makes a ditch outside the parapet. The embrasures or
port-holes are lined with sand-bags. Here the artillery
is posted. Now, as the gunners are few in number, and
most of them unarmed, it becomes necessary to protect
them, otherwise the enemy might make a sudden attack,
and capture or spike our guns. A gun is spiked by driving a rat-tail file into the touch-hole.  This cannot be
pulled out, and the gun is useless until redrilled.  To
prevent this, rifle-pits are dug on each side of the battery.
Here, infantry troops are placed to repel any attack.
This is called" supporting a battery."  Batteries arethus
placed all along our semi-circular front from river to
river, a distance of full ten miles. If these batteries can
hold their ground, others are established still farther in
front, or, in military parlance, we " advance our parallels."
Thus, we have been advancing, constantly driving the
enemy before us, into closer quarters.
There is more of this kind of work going on, on the
right and left, than on the centre. Frequently, the rebels
have made sorties, but with no success. The other day,
they came too near on our right, but retreated when they
saw the niiegro regiment rushing on them with fixed bayonets. They acted as if they believed the negro would
fight.  They remember the 27th of May, and have no
wish to try that valor, intensified by the vengeance theii
own barbarous treatment of negro prisoners has aroused.
The foe fires but little, evidently hoarding his ammunition. Their silence is mysterious and oppressive.  They
quietly allow us to put up batteries right under their
noses. Less than half a mile distant, we have in posi;
tion some guns that fire one-hundred-pound shells. With
the naked eye, they could see us at work, all unsheltered, and yet not a disturbing shot, save a few ran



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          263
dom bullets. Recently, an officer rode within fifty yards
of the fort without molestation. What does it mean?
Scarcity of ammunition, or a snare to invite us on to destruction? WVe know not. I learn it troubles our leading
officers. Port Hudson itself is nothing but. a collection
of a few houses, a store and a church, but the fortifications are nearly five miles in length and two in breadth,
so it is almost impossible to materially injure the garrison.
If shells come too thick, they retreat to their underground
holes, and are safe. When but few batteries are opening
on them, they soon learn the range of our guns, and
dodge the missiles. Where men lie down on the inside
of the parapet, a shell has to burst just at a particular
point, or they will be unscathed. We have poured a
great deal of hardware into that Sebastopol, and can see
we have injured a great many trees, but rebel prisoners
and deserters, and our own comrades who have escaped
from their clutches, all unite in saying we have disabled
them but little. We fire constantly, and by day dismount many of their guns, which they replace at night.
Thus, we scatter the wealth of the nation, but secure immunity from all their guns, save those that are in the rear,
or on the river. Entire days pass, and they fire not a
shot. With the greatest secrecy, we put up earth works
and find nothing to evidence the presence of a watchful
enemy. Getting bold, we walk on the top of them, or
climb above the hedges to pick blackberries, which to our
comfort, are here found in great abundance; and save an
occasional bullet from some riflemen stationed in the
trees, are not molested. One of our boys, in picking
some berries, lost a finger, to remind him that berrying
here is not quite as safe as in Berkshire. Our fire worries and exhausts the garrison, and kills horses and mules,
burying which is so dangerous, that they are allowed to
rot above ground. We have so hemmed them in, that
they cannot drive their beeves to- water, therefore they
die; and their time of starvation or surrender is hastened.




264         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Sometimes, at night, they let horses out, -which wander
into our lines. Killing them would but farther taint the
air, and as many of them are distempered, we gain little
by their loss. We receive but little help from the gunboats. If they could assail the enemy in front, we might
get up such a bombardment as would lead to a capitulation; but now, that the river is sixty feet lower than Port
Hudson bluffs, they would have to elevate their guns so
high, that the balls and shells would go clean over the
rebels into our midst. The foe can but know where we
are situated, and if they are not really entirely destitute
o' ammunition, they would shell us. Mlassed as we are,
they could do fearful execution.
By assault or starvation alone can we succeed. Assure
us that no enemy will fall on our rear, and the latter is
the preferable manner; but instead of being assured of
that, we have many reasons to believe the contrary. Several hundred (rumor says several thousand) rebels having
been seen about Clinton, some fifteen miles distant, an
expedition, under General Paine, was sent on the 5th,
to disperse them, in which they succeeded. It was one
of our dustiest, hottest days, and in a march of ten miles,
no less than forty-eight fell sun-struck, or exhausted. Our
regiment was spared that toil. Quite likely, ere another
mail goes, we may again assault this stronghold; for we
hear it is decided soon to open on them with all our guns,
and if that fails to bring them to terms, then an assault.
To make that assault unnecessary, Banks is adding to his
already large park of artillery, monster guns and mortars.
The 1 1-inch guns are taken fiom the fleet, and worked by
marines. They throw ninety-pound solid shot, or a hundred and twenty-pound conical shell, for four miles. As
they are being placed within three-quarters of a mile of
the rebels, they will do much execution as projectiles, as
well as shells. The guns weigh upwards of nine thousand pounds each. Mortars look like the mortars druggists use to compound medicines in, only on a vaster




MASSACIHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          265
scale, being about three feet long and two feet in diameter (these are rather small ones) at the mouth. A peck
of powder is used at each discharge. How any thing like
accuracy of range can be obtained, is a puzzle to all save
gunners. Colonel Hodge, of Massachusetts, has an engineer regiment composed of stalwart negroes, great, lusty
fellows, who put our muscles to shame, on whom the burden of preparing earth-works for batteries and the riflepits mostly falls. They are some of them who carried
boxes of cartridges to their comrades, under the fire of
May 27th. Their work is replete with danger; but the
silence of the enemy emboldens them. Some of this'work
falls on u. The other night our boys were occupied in
rolling  bales of cotton along the road, across which we
charged in the late battle.  It was a hazardous task, but
they were not molested. I suppose Banks has nearly
two hundred pieces of artillery, independently of his gunboats. There is scarcely a foot of ground, from river to
river, but what is covered by our cannons. Miles of roads
are being made through the woods; bridges span nearly
every hollow, while league on league of rifle-pits attest
our industry. We are fed well, and we understand the
order is to give the best of the food, and the heaviest of
the work, to the nine months' men. So, where the three
years' men get oily pork, we get good salt beef, and then
a few furlongs of rifle-pit digging is thrown in, to keep us
from dyspepsia. Keen as are our appetites, we would be
willing to have shorter rations, and shorter work.  The
law is, get what you can out of the nine-monthlings, and
save thb three years' troops- for subsequent labors. Right,
I suppose, but our bones protest, and we are all becoming
" nigger-worshippers."  Every day adds more or less to
the African element, and we gaze on their splendid forms
with some envy and much joy, for our toil is in inverse
proportion to their number. Never fear that soldiers will
be found objecting to negro enlistments.  One hour's
digging in Louisiana clay, under a Louisiana sun, and we
12




266         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
are forever pledged to do all we can to fill up our ranks
with the despised and long-neglected race.
Each day, prisoners are brought in. Most of them, are
fine-looking fellows. In their butternut clothes, they look
much more presentable than we do.  Save a little red
facing on the collars and wristbands of officers, you cannot tell them firom privates by their dress. In this, they
show a wisdom all officers would do well to imitate. They
report that their only hope is in Johnston compelling us
to raise the siege, and that many of the officers are willing to surrender, but General Gardner is determined to
hold out to the last ear of corn. He is a deserter from
our army, and in his haste to join the rebels, did not stop
to resign his commission, so he may fear that his surrender will be followed by a deserter's death. He does us
honor overmuch. I fear we have not yet reached so commendable a severity.
Before our army shut them in, the rebels confiscated
much of the food of the surrounding planters. Hearing
that we could exchange some of our hard crackers and
doubtful pork (we can't get all beef) for chickens and
milk, Hulet and I visited a Mrs. Cage for that corn —
mendable purpose. Her husband is in the rebel army,
and she is blessed with forty slaves, or to use the euplho
nious language of the South, " forty head of'niggers," so
attached to her that they will not leave her. We left our
rations and got the coveted delicacies. Thatlady and
her children ate the food we carried as greedily as our
children eat pound-cake. I found that she did not fear the
Yankees, but stood in mortal terror of the black'troops,
saying that when we leave, they will murder, ravage, and
ravish. If they should ravish, who taught them that power
meant the right to use woman as their passions might
dictate?
"He that of old did bend the oak,
Dreamed not of the rebound."
Pilfer the negroes do, but not more than white soldiers,




MASSACHUSEITS  VOLUNTEERS.          267
and strange that consciousness of power don't lead them
to pilfer more. Treat them kindly, and they will quietly
forgive the wrongs of centuries; but any revival of
plantation manners will rouse a devil that only blood and
outraged beauty will appease. The negro is of a docile
race. In my numerous conversations with them I never
heard them threaten their former masters, and, hard as it
may be to bear it, they behave better than the great majority of white soldiers. Punishments among them are
far less frequent, and I have yet to hear of one instance.
of their outraging female purity. They seem to be too
glad that they are free, to harbor thoughts of vengeance.
Slavery in Louisiana is dead, and if the masters will not
attempt to revive it, they can live at peace with their
negroes; but any attempt to re-enslave men who have
felt the inspiration of May 27th, will arouse a fiend, before whose ravages the horrors of St. Domingo will sink
into insignificance.
We have several of their camps near us.  They are
neat and clean, and a visit to them pays. For the first
time, I have/ seen some of the native joyousness of the
n'egro cropping out, and have gazed on the first banjo.
They are beginning to realize that they have paid for
their freedom with their blood, and have a right to be
happy. General Paine sent word to us that we must
stop our singing of hymns; why, we could not tell; but
General Augur, who tents near the negro camp, does not
disturb them, and so our nights are often blessed with
their songs of praise, as they assemble in prayer-meetings.
More fortunate than we, they have their wives with them,
at least, women they call their wives. Generally, the
negro has but dim conception of the sacredness of the
marriage relation. If his wife is sold from him, he looks
upon her as dead to him, and marries again. If unwilling,
he is often forced into wedlock, for the Moloch of Slavery
demands for his victims unbroken generations of children.
In these times, when a voice is saying, "Overturn! over



268         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
turn!" the original husband and wife sometimes meet;
and I have heard of cases where the second marriage not
being a happy one, has been rectified by the parties mutually returning to their first loves. The distribution of
the children mighi cause us trouble, but they have been
taught that the child follows. the mother, and that the
father is merely the author of their existence. At our
last visit to Mrs. Cage, we found the chickens had disappeared, and the brigade commissary had levied on her
cows, and worse than all, her servants had caught the
inspiration of Freedom and joined the " damned Yankees."
I was rather disappointed, thinking that I had at last
found a nest of them who so loved their mistress, that
they preferred slavery to freedom.  Some assert that
negroes are not humnan; certainly they have a strange
nack of doing what human beings do when placed in
similar circumstances. Liberty has a charm to the poor
serf; but liberty, in union with the flesh-pots of our commissaries, is irresistible.
A few days since, the medical department treated us
to iced claret-punch. Grumblers might have discovered
that the claret was hardly in full proportion to the water,
but as it was sweet and cold, we gratefully quenched our
thirst with it, and hoped they would not become weary
in well doing. We have been cleaning camp, and doing
other work, indicative of a prolonged stay. For the first
time since leaving Baton Rouge, we are allowed to go
about without wearing our equipments. We have been
enabled to recover a good many of the guns left on the
battle-field. Our artillery and sharpshooters have kept
the rebels away, and the boys bring the trophies in.
Each side sends pickets out, and in that Golgotha, they
renew the scenes of the 27th on a miniature scale. At
first, the skirmishers came in at night; but now they
skirmish by day, and do picket-duty at night. A battle
implies less exhaustion and mental anxiety than a day's
skirmishing.  They gradually creep up as near the para



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           269
pet as possible. Outside thereof come rebel skirmishers,
within twenty rods of them. There they lie all day,
baked in the hot sun. If they show any part of their
bodies, a bullet zips by them to remind them that discretion is the better part of valor. They must load on
their back or side, and fire whenever they get a chance.
Sometimes they put their hats on twigs and elevate them
above the protecting stump to draw the bullets of their
opponents, and then exposing themselves to fire, learn by
the number of balls rattling round them that they are
watched by many pairs of fierce eyes. Strange that so
few are hurt, and those are generally the victims of rebel
riflemen, perched in trees! From some of the trees you
can see jets of smoke, but it is almost impossible to locate
the enemy. Occasionally, a mast of something is seen
dropping from the branches, and no more smoke springs
from that place. Often they spend hours without daring
to move. One poor fellow was trying to reach a good
shelter, when the order to open fire compelled hire to
drop down where he then was, behind a small stump
barely sufficient to hide his head. On his face, the sun
pouring down on his spine and driving the hot blood to
his brain, he lay all that livelong day. He dared not
move to load or fire, or to reach his canteen or haversack.
The "forlorn hope' was nothing to that. Lieutenant
Sissons, who, leaving the hospital, which was so nearly
his death-chamber, is now here in command of Company
E. He went out skirmishing, and on his return, from his
neck to his hips was one solid blister, the sun having thus
scorched him through his clothes. Battles tell but a
small part of the dangers and discomforts of the soldier.
After such a day, a night of picket-duty closes up. the
work of twenty-four hours. At first our skirmishers kept
up a pretty rapid fire, but, finding that only increased
their danger without doing execution, they now rarely,
fire unless they get a good aim. Towards night the setting sun blinds our boys, and gives the rebels a fine




270         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
chance to damage us. Sunrise reverses the position of
affairs, and now the firingy is mainly confined to those two
seasons. You may ask, what good results from all this?
If it were not done, rebel sharpshooters would creep up
and cut off our gunners. Not only is that now avoided,
but we can keep them from setting up or manning their
cannons. The foe put up sand-bags on the top of the
parapets, leaving small spaces for the rifle and for sighting it; and, strange as it is, in some cases our men send
their unerring bullets right through these apertures, and
crashing into eyes that are seeking chancres to destroy
US.
On the 31st ult., Colonel Paine, acting brigadier, sent
for Captain Rennie, who is reputed a good shot, and
asked him if he could hit a man at a distance of twentyfive rods. The captain said, " Yes," and they together
climbed a tree, from which the colonel showed Rennie
the work he had carved out for him and a squad of sixteen picked men. It was to silence two 64-pounders on
either side of the roads, guns which so galled us on the
27th. Five of the men followed the captain to within
ten rods of the parapet, and kept those guns silent the
rest of that day. About 3 r. M., the rebels sent a small
detachment over their breast-works to flank them, when
they retreated safely, despite the various leaden invitations to tarry, one of which saved the captain the trouble
of carrying his cap for six feet, and affectionately severed
a lock of his hair, as a memento of work so done as
greatly to please the brigadier, who, from a tree, was
watching' the modus operandi; and, on seeing the enemy's flank movements, felt certain that there would be a
fresh sprinkling of blue-breeches among the butternuts
that night.
Exciting as are these scenes, they wear on the troops,
and deplete our small army. Battle and sickness reduced
our number, between the twenty-third and thirtieth of
May, 1,009 men. Up to June 4th, we have lost by death




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           2 71
and wounds 80, and by sickness 75 men. By disease and
sun-strokes, this army loses fifty per day. War is fearfully expensive. To keep effective an army of half a
million, it is necessary to recruit yearly 123,000 men, and
to maintain 58,000 in hospitals. In view of these facts,
and of our emaciated sick, refusing the aid of the negroes
was almost a crime. In this department there are twelve
whites sick to one black.
Lieut. Kellogg (I) has been honorably discharged and
-has left us. H-e sent in his resignation long before we
commenced this campaign. Captain Train has returned
to Baton Rouge. I wonder that he remained so long,
suffering as he did with erysipelas. His feet and the
lower part of his legs are one solid scab. In the absence
of our surgeons, he not only commands the camp but is
surgeon thereto; no ordinary compliment for a homceopathist to receive from an old-school medical director. I
can but believe his system\of practice would work better
than that of the heroic school. The captain's sympathetic nature would add to the efficacy of his drugs.
Many of the sick want sympathy above every thing else.
God pi.ty them, as they gradually die, away from all held
most dear! There they lie, hearing the groans or delirious cries of their comrades, only relieved by the carrying
away of corpse after corpse. Quite a number of our men
have lost fingers or toes by accidental discharges of their
own guns. Such accidents are mortifyingly frequent.
J. Smith (E) and R. Vanderburgh (J) were wounded
while skirmishing.
It is said the rebels lost 280 on the 27th. That may
explain the reason why they did not molest us as we
carried off our wounded.  M. H. Tuttle, orderly of
Company E, led our storming party, and led it well and
bravely. He was one of those who almost stole away
from the hospital to do his part where brave men were
needed. We fear that Lieutenants Sherman and Siggins
will die, and that the Colonel cannot save his arm. Some




27'2          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
others of our wounded are very low. Johnny Bryce (A) has
had his right arm  amputated.  He and Ende, of the same
company, were markers, whose duty it is to bear small
flags, one of which is placed at each end of the column,
to enable the regiment more readily to form a straight
line. Doing that work, amid the scenes of the 27th, belonged to the heroic, and in doing it young Bryce lost
his arm.  His empty sleeve will long teach lessons of
patriotism more eloquent than the finest speeches of
those who only scent the battle from afar.
" It tells of a battle-field of goreOf the sabre's clash-of the cannon's roarOf the deadly charge-of the bugle's noteOf a gurgling sound in a foeman's throatOf the whizzing grape-of the fiery shellOf a scene which mimics the scenes'of hell.
Till this very hour, would you e'er believe
What a tell-tale thing is an empty sleeveWhat a weird, queer thing is an empty sleeve?"
Few poems convey so good a general idea of a fierce
conflict as these lines of Bayard Taylor:
" Then the rattling roll of the musketeers,
And the muffled drums and the rallying cheers;
And the rifles burn with a keen desire,
Like the crackling whips of the hemlock fire;
And the sighing shot and the shrieking shell,
And the splintered fire of the shattered hell,
And the great white breaths of the cannon-smoke,
As the growling guns by the batteries spoke
In syllables cropped from the thunder of GodThe throb of the cloud where the drummer-boy trod,
And the ragged gaps in the walls of blue,
Where the iron surge rolls heavily through,
That the Colonel builds with a breath again,
As he cleaves the din with' Close up, men!'
"And the groan torn out from the blackened lip,
And the prayer doled slow with the crimson drip;
And the beamy look in the dying eye,
As under the cloud the stars go by!
But his soul marched on, the captain said,
For the soldier in blue can never be dead!




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.                2 73
And the troopers sit in their saddles all,
As the statues carved in an ancient hall;
And they watch the whirl from their breathless ranks,
And their spurs are close to the horses' flanks,
And the fingers work, of the sabre-hand-,V
Oh, to bid them live, and to make them grand!
And the bugle sounds to the charge at last,
And away they plunge, and the front is past;
And the jackets blue grow red as they ride,
And the scabbards, too, that clank by their side;
And the dead soldiers deaden the strokers' iron-shod
As they gallop right on o'er the plashy red sodRight into the cloud all spectral and dim,
Right up to the guns black-throated and grim,
Right down on the hedges bordered with steel,
Right through the dense columns, then'Right about wheel!'
" Hurrah! a new swath through the harvest again!
Hurrah for the flag! to the battle amen! "
The  accompanying verses, from   the  ready pen  bf
Lieut.-Col. Sumner, will give you an admirable description of the pait our regiment really took in the memorable battle of the 27th May.  The high hopes that animated
us on entering the field; the reversion of feeling when
we met, not danger and death, but obstructions that convinced us we could die, not conquer; the gloom surrounding the fall of our leaders; the dauntless pressing on,
though thus bereft; the seeking shelter only when exposure was fool-hardiness; the silent bearing away our
comrades; stepping over our dead; our mingled sadness
and pride on returning-all are here portrayed as only
could be done by one who had been an active participant
therein:
THE CHARGE OF THE FORTY-NINTH.
"Forward, now, the Forty-ninth!" the Genetal's mandate came;
"Attention, Third Battalion!" was the Colonel's prompt exclaim;
Now, you sons of Berkshire, your craving hour has come,
Prove your fond fidelity to ancestry and home!
Straightway fro! the undergrowth our gallant boys-upsprang;
Rapid and sonorous the familiar accents rang:
"Right face! Lively! Forward, march!" Meanwhile in each eye
Mark the firm resolve that dareth both to do and die.
12*




2 74           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Through the tangled bushes stealthily we tread,
While the shells are bursting madly overhead;
Now we reach the open, and, across the plain,
See the rebel cannon spouting leaden rain.
" On the right, by file in line!" rapidly we form;
" Forward march! guide centre!"  Now the fiery storm,
With redoubled fury, vexes earth and sky,
As our glorious banner greets the foeman's eye.
Gallantly, before us, in the thrilling scene
March the storming party, with musket and fascine;
See! their steps they hasten! "Double-quick"-now then
Comes the tug of battle; quit yourselves like men!
All, what rebel cunning had prepared the way!
Felled trees, logs, and branches, in our pathway lay;
Still our flag moves forward! ay, and not alone,
For our line of battle bravely holds its own.
God of mercy, help us! Twice the murderous balls
Strike our hero Colonel; ah, he reels! he falls!
Our Lieutenant-Colonel, " Onward! onward!" crying,
In an instant stricken, on the field is lying!
Yet our boys undaunted, with their might and main
Strive to gain the ramparts, but alas! in vain.
From those fatal ramparts, looniing still afar,
How the foe exultant hurls the bolts of war!
Through our ranks, where glittered bayonet-blade,
See what deadly havoc shot and shell have made!
Of that proud battalion,-fresh-lipped men and braveScores now groan in anguish; some have found a grave.
Strive no longer vainly, now that hope is past;
Let the logs and pitfalls be your shield at last;
Down, then! Down for safety, ye who still survive 
Thank the God of battles, ye are yet alive.
Softly soon the day-king sinks unto his rest,
And the grateful twilight deepens in the west;
Hunshed the din of battle; now, with footsteps fleet,
Weary, saddened soldiers make their swift retreat.
Lo! what scenes confront them, as they rearward tread;
Here a comrade wounded, there a comrade dead!
Friends at home, and kindred, ah! what would you say,
Could you see your petted Forty-ninth to-day!




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            275
This at least, in future say, with honest pride,
"Berkshire boys right nobly fought, and bled, and died;"
Ever let their actions be rehearsed in story,
And their names encircled with a wreath of glory.
Henry -Richardson (H), of Sandisfield, aged eighteen
years, died in the hospital at Baton Rouge, of consumption, June 9th. He was a fine steady boy, long sick, and
has gone to his rest.
John JW. itzgerald (D), carriage-maker, from Barrington, aged nineteen years, died of diarrhaea in the general
hospital at Baton Rouge on the 30th of May. He was a
fine Irish boy, and a steady, good soldier. The main
dependence of an aged mother, his loss will be severely
felt.
Company E and Sheffield lost in the death of our drummer-boy, fHenry L. Holmes, an excellent soldier, and a
promising lad of nineteen years. He died at Baton
Rouge, June 1st. One of his officers said, "He was the
finest kind of boy." When a soldier so demeans himself
among soldiers as to merit such an encomium, you can
imagine how great the sorrow in that blighted home
that gave him to God, his country, and his lonely grave.
e4nry -L. BeaCh (H), dentist, from Lee, aged twentythree, was wounded May 27th, and died at Baton Rouge,
June 3d. He was a brave, steady, and reliable soldier,
and an intelligent man. Among those who, unconscious
of our experience of the past fortnight, are fondly awaiting the return of the Forty-ninth, there are hearts to
whom that return will bring no joy, save pride in their
patriotic dead. To that increasing number is now added
the young wife and child of our buried comrade.,James Cressor (I) died of typhoid fever on the 4th
inst., at Baton Rouge. He was a Canadian, and enlisted
from Pittsburg. His age was eighteen years.
Charles Edward Platt (A) died at the general hospital at Baton Rouge on the 6th inst. He was wounded
in the leg at the recent battle. Neither he nor any of




2 76        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
his comrades thought his wound was serious. When
they were about to remove him from the field, he requested them to leave him and attend to others who were
more severely injured. He was taken to the city, and
there died. Perchance his life might have been preserved,
had he received proper care; but, not considering himself in a dangerous state, and being one of those who
rarely complain, his wound was not dressed for some days
after his entering the hospital. Mortification set in, and
soon ended the career of one of our best boys. He was
a son of C. B. Platt, of Pittsfield,.who was opposed to
his enlisting on the ground of his youth, being but seventeen years old.  Large and stout for his age, he thought
he could do the duties of a soldier, and, until that fatal
day, none did them better. His officers speak of him in
the highest terms.  Leaving a comfortable horse, knowing nothing of hardships, privations, or dangers, he went
forth, yearning to do something to maintain the honor of
his country, and in every' sphere measured up to the
claims of duty. Untried, he yet faltered not when came
the order to enter the valley of death. His young heart
may have trembled, but his firm will bore him on till the
bullet of the foe laid him low. Bearing up against the
temptations of the camp, bold in the fiery furnace, his
soldier-life was worthy of imitation; but prouder, sweeter
still his death. Always moral, yet it was reserved for
the gloom  of the hospital to witnes his union with
Christ. Teachings that had often been impressed on his
mind then sank into his heart, and brought forth that
faith which enables the dying lips to utter, " I have fought
a good fight."  His last words were asking a comrade to
write to his parents, and say to them that he should meet
them in heaven. Thus, thinking of his earthly and his
heavenly home, he departed to his Maker. There will be
deep sorrow in that earthly home, but some ray of glory
from the heavenly will gild it. Happy those parents of
whose son it can be said, "He lived well and died a




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           2 7 7
Christian soldier." Human hearts, though throbbing in
sorrow, will sweetly remember that"The golden bells of the city of God
Have rung his welcome in."
Godfrey Wolyinger (K) died of typhoid fever at
Baton Rouge on the 8th instant.  He was a farmer boy
from Stockbridge, aged eighteen years. A fine boy he
was, and a good soldier. Poor dear fellow! How he
yearned to participate in the dangers of this campaign!
Begging so hard, he received permission to start with us,
but soon had to return. Truly, his zeal wax greater than
his strength. The brave-hearted lad fought his last battle
amid the dreariness and loneliness of the hospital, and
after "life's fitful fever, sleeps well."  All honor to the
noble soul that craved no higher boon than to fall fighting
in the thickest of the strife, for the honor of the dear old
flag to yield up his life. God accepted the unaccomplished heroism, and among the "fallen brave" of the Fortyninth, we write high up the name of Godfrey Wolfinger.
Frederick Belcher (B), a New Ashford farmer, was a
steady man, and a brave, reliable soldier. On the 27th he
was wounded in the leg, and recovering from that, was attacked with diphtheria, which caused his death, June 10th,
in the 21st year of his age.  He leaves a brother in the
same company, to go home without the Benjamin of the
household, and to hear one of the saddest refrains of this
war: "' If I am bereaved of my children, I am bereaved."




278         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XXX.
BEFORE PORT HuDSON, LA., June 15, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
We yet call this, our old camp, home, though the regiment is here but a small portion of the time, having for
several days lived in and about rifle-pits, a life more novel
than pleasant. Familiarity breeds contempt of rebels, and
whereas we used to stay in the pits the greater part of
the time, crouching down behind the earthwork, now we
wander about as if almost unconscious that behind the
parapet we can see so plainly, and within easy rifle range
there are thousands of lurking foes. Occa4ionally, a few
bullets whiz past us, and we look around to see if any
one is hit; and if all are safe, seem about as unconcerned
as if we were in the old Bay State. We fire but little,
for the enemy rarely gives us a chance to make our shots
tell; and Yankees count the cost, even where Uncle Sam
foots the bill.  Our food is cooked in the rear, and
brought to us by cooks and by the musicians, whose occupation now being gone, thus render themselves useful.
Bailey, cook of Co. D, thought he would carry out the
breakfast a few mornings since, and was administering
allopathic doses of strong coffee, when a spent bullet hitting P. Devanny,'bf that company, in the shoulder, assured him that if cooking was less heroic than soldiering,
it was certainly safer. Our rifle-pits, being well shaded,
are not very uncomfortable in dry weather; but as the
fashion is now to have a shower nearly every evening,
the foot or eighteen inches of water that collect. therein,
make our beds resemble feathers only in the quality of
softness. The second night on taking possession of these
pits, we slept in them, defiant of their muddy condition.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLJUNTEERS.         279
The night before we kept awake, and tried to do so that
night, but sleep conquered our aversion to water and mud,
and resting our backs against one side, and propping with
our feet against the other, we sought the balmy restorer
under peculiar difficulties.  We could maintain our positions a while, but when Morpheus got the mastery, down
we would flap into the water, our own discomfort, and
the strong language of our disturbed comrades, assuring
us that dreams were false, if they had conveyed us to the
chambers of Berkshire. Towards morning, it little mattered whether we were lying in or out of the water, so
we got some sleep. With my usual good fortune, I secured a bed on the roots of a tree, with only one foot in
the water; and if the old tempter, in seducing our grandmother Eve, had but given to her posterity his own vertebrae, I could have wound myself around those roots,
and passed a pleasant night. Sleep some I did, and
though the huge 32-pounders, not fifty feet distant,
sounded the alarm every fifteen minutes, I heard, but two
or three of them. About daybreak, you could see the
moist, dirty soldiers rising up, and with some grumbling,
labor to get the kinks out of their aching bodies. The
light thickened, and the coffee came, and soon cheerfulness reigned again. Since then, we put down our rubberblankets (life-preservers, they may well be called) on the inside margin of the pits; and though conscious that a
shower of bullets or of grape would acquaint some of
us with that sleep that knows no waking, we rest in all
the luxury of expansion.  "Head-quarters" used to mean
a fine tent and a pacing sentinel. Now, it brings up
before the mind an elevated bed of rails (a long bed it
is, for the " tall major " is the presiding genius), thinly
covered with some rubbish, and an awning of two pieces
of a shelter-tent.  There the major and adjutant enjoy
their otium cum dignitate, with the help of the rebel
weed, which they burn so assiduously as to lead us to
imagine that their earnest Union hearts yearned to de



280         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
stroy one of the great staples of the South, almost forgetting that it costs somewhere in the neighborhood of
two dollars per pound. Living in such a conspicuous
place, I should not' be surprised to hear that their home
had been entered by secesh bullets, and we, as a regiment,
consigned to the tender mercies of Senior Captain Weller.
I do not disparage that officer, for a braver, and better,
and kinder, we have not, nor one that could handle the
regiment so well; but as the major is in command, and
doing finely, I want him to have the honor of leading us
to a glorious termination of this campaign, and a successful raid on Berkshire. Bartlett used to endure torture
wearing that cork leg day after day (he put it on much
too soon), torture which an iron man only would endure.
I know not how he would get along here, and the reserve
we always felt in his presence might become oppressive,
as we would necessarily be in that presence all the time.
I never saw him meet an occasion without adapting himself to it, and I fancy we would like him as well in the
pits as in camp or battle, though, I presume, there would
be fewer loungers about head-quarters. The major shows
good sense in maintaining the dignity of his office without
trying to imitate that of the colonel. David in Saul's armor never pleased himself or others.
Sutlers have followed us to the front, and at fabulous
priecs supply us with tobacco, ginger-bread, cheese, and
other articles considered superfluous by our providers.
They are well patronized. This is neither time nor place
for economy. We are often regaled with fresh beef, of'
the quantity of which I can speak more favorably than of
the quality. You can judge somewhat of the pleasure of
living in this climate: a few days since, a squad killed
some cattle, and in less than two hours the meat was so
fly-blown that we could not use it. For the first time in
our history, we have had wormy bread. Knocking worms
out before eating, enlarges our experience more than our
comfort.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           281
Some of our nights have been grand. I know nothing
more fascinating than lying in these grand woods in the
moonlight. it makes one shudder to think of a future of
roofed chambers: and it will be some time before we can
be reconciled to the effeminacy of feather-beds. Our experience will enable us to dispense home hospitality on a
larger scale, by giving to the guest Of sexes agree) our
unnecessary bed, and retiring to what we would now
consider luxurious accommodations, a pillow on a carpeted
floor. We are generally rocked to sleep by the music of
artillery, and the other night heaven and earth joined in
the concert of awful sounds. The long peals of thunder
mingled with the roar of cannon, and the flashing of artillery blendea with the dull, continuous lightning. - Often
we could not tell which was the voice of God and which
the voice of man. At times, we would hear the report
of one of the mammoth guns of the fleet; then the heavy,
rumbling thunder would unite with that noise, and again
the roar of cannon, followed quickly by another peal from
on high, would keep up an unbroken but awful harmony.
Occasionally, the lightning would flash vividly as at home,
and the thunder gather into a fearful crash, revealing the
pettiness of man, as if from  heaven were sounded,
"Power belongeth unto Gocd."  It was a time of solemnity, of awe. The shells shrieked and burst, and the
great mortars moaned and groaned as if the soul of Freedom was travailing in agonizing desire to reach the heart
of Slavery. All night long the mingled storm continued,
waxing yet more fearful, till morning, ushering in the
light and quietness, was a grateful relief.'Tis worth a
few months' separation from home, to enjoy some of our
experiences.
Our straw  hats were found to be too conspicuous
marks, so we have had to return to caps, which leave the
back of the head all exposed to the rays of the sun. Recently, a major was shot by our own pickets. He passed
out the line at one place, and was about returning through




282         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
at another place,. without halting to give the countersign,
perchance thinking it was the beat he had passed through
first,.vhen a sentinel killed him. I!n one of my wood
rambles, I got lost, and the remembrance of that incident
made me more fearful of friends than I have ever been
of foes.. "Shot by mistake" is a poor epitaph for a soldier's tomb.  -"
The enemy lose nearly fifty per day by desertion.
Eighteen stationed at an outpost, killed their officer and
escaped to our lines. Some found their way to the works
manned by the negroes; and though the rebel brutality
of the 27th was still fresh in their minds, were treated
by them with great kindness. We greet these deserters.
They may be scaly patriots, but each counts one less
rifle to march up against.
I give you a little incident to illustrate the honor of
the position of color-sergeant, and the pride we take in
our colors. Major Burt, of the One Hundred and Fiftyninth New York, led four hundred men in a desperate
charge, but met a cross-fire so fearful, that almost in the
twinkling of an eye, one hundred were laid low, and the
rest had to fall back. The color-bearer had planted the
flag on the ramparts before he was slain, so it was left
behind. A corporal dashed forward, seized the sacred
emblem, and was bearing it away, when a bullet through
his heart stopped his career. The major himself then
went for it and came off with it in safety, leaving a part
of the staff sticking in the ground, where the brave bearer
had placed it. You must be a soldier before you can
really sing "Rally round the flag! boys."  Oh!'tis
grand thus to rally, and at the same time " Ring out the
battle-cry of Freedom."
This has been an eventful week to us. Another assault
was decided on. It is again said, Banks adopts this plan
against the advice of all his generals. He looks like a
man of much self-reliance. Such men may, by trusting
to their own judgments, commit mistakes, but they




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.             283
generally get through. Through we must get, and that
soon, for rebel attacks in our rear are becoming annoyingly frequent, and increasingly al-arming.  A few days
since they captured over fifty of our teams. They waited
till we had substituted nice army-wagons for our lumbering plantation carts. Almost under General Grover's
nose, they seized an ambulance with its load of sick.
The fact that the time of service of several of the regiments has almost expired, suggests haste. Persuasion
and threat may keep them in the ranks after that time,
but their efficiency will be materially lessened. Last
Monday, lots were drawn for fascine-bearers.  That time
the fascines were cotton-b.gs about three feet long, which
could be carried as shields. No chance was offered for
volunteering. Captain Chaffee was appointed to lead
them. I had made up my mind to accompany them. A
bridge-party was also formed, whose duty it is to bridge
a way over the ditch for the artillery; then the pioneers,
under Captain Garlick, are to dig down the parapet, that
we-may run our guns inside. Inside! what that means,
we know not. Once inside, and we may find stronger
works and graves.  "Do or die" seems' to be Banks's
motto.  Daily the bridge-party practise forming and
laying down the bridge, all the timbers being nicely adjusted together; and daily also Garlick drills his pioneers.
I suppose hundreds of skirmishers will be sent out to
keep the walls clear while these forlorn hopes do their
work. That will lessen their danger, but they have an
appalling task before them. Though they did not volunteer, and doubtlessly hope that this cup, ay, this cup of
trembling, may pass from them, yet there are no signs of
flinching. God bless the dear fellows! I never knew
my courage fail me when the hour came, but welcome a
dozen assaults rather than those fearful days of waiting
and suspense. Some one has said"The brave man dies but once:
The coward dies a thousand deaths in fearing one."




284        IIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Good poetry, only it is lacking in truth. The brave man
is he who will do his duty, though before and in doing
it he may  suffer the mental pangs of a thousand deaths.
I wish Berkshire, knowing the work before them, could.see these men, her sons; and if pride and tears did not
mingle together, she would be unworthy of them. I
often visit them, and as I notice their quiet manner, their
calm blue eyes, their undaunted deportment, I am glad I
belong to the same regiment. Whether by accident, or
thinking them inconsistent with the solemnities of battlelife, cards have been left behind, but few failed to bring
their pocket-Testaments; and I fiequently saw some or
them reading the inspiring truths, and knew they were
gathering more than earthly courage for a heavenly
duty. I take back my wish that Berkshire could see
these men.  Ere this, there is enough soul-wearing
anxiety there. Hearts are sorrowing for their distant
dead, or suffering with -their unwatched wounded, or
asking for news of their perilled liv-ing ones, trying to
hope for the best, yet fearing the worst, and we mdourn
with the bereaved and sympathize with the anxiety of
those who are as yet only affected in imagination. Weary
weeks will roll away before we leave the presence of
danger, and yet more weeks before homes are gladdened
with the assurance of the safety of our remnant. Knowing this, I cannot wish that the mothers and wives of
these men should daily pass them as they wait the dread
moment; but I would like the many, who could not
afford to serve their country, to see what their privileges
cost.
Last Thursday night, earth-works were to be thrown
up and rifle-pits dug, that Holcomb's battery could be
located within forty rods of the foe. A large detail from
our regiment was to do the work. Roll cotton-bales over
ground almost covered with felled trees and limbs, in the
face of a foe, and you may be excused if you often think
and tremble at the probable consequences of a few dis



MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          285
charges of grape, canister, railroad iron, screw-heads,
nails, and such other articles as the rebels draw from
their armory of death. Those bales were to be our only
protection. Thinking that any help might not be unacceptable, I went down to the rifle-pit to join the detail.
We waited the order to move, the night was very dark
and gloomy, and we were far from jubilant. One fine
soldier, an Irishman, gave vent to his apprehensions by
damning the niggers, and denouncing the whole contest
as a " nigger war." The words had scarcely left his lips
when Captain Chaffee came to tell us we were excused
from the duty, Colonel Hodges's (negro) engineers having
volunteered for the task. Well, there was no more
"Aamning the niggers" that night, and I guess that good
Irishman was instantaneously converted to abolitionism.
From more than one heart came the fervent " God bless
the negroes!" and the resolve to nobly fight that every
one of the race may look upon our flag as the emblem
of their freedom. The night passed on; we, so much
farther from those engineers than the rebels, could hear
their voices and the noise of their spades, and momentarily
expected the sound that would tell that for us they had
worked and died. But not a shot broke the stillness.
In the darkness of the following evening we started to
occupy the works they had erected. We were told to
maintain the strictest silence, so we walked as if on eggs,
and with suppressed breath. Nothing will make -a man
feel quite so timid as to be among hundreds marching in
the dark up to loaded guns, treading as softly as if you
know you are doing wrong, and whispering out your apprehensions to your comrade. I was placed in the rear
rank, and was glad of it, and half scanned the size of the
man before me to be assured that I was safe till he fell;
and then, then we quickened our pace and began to speak
a little louder, and the tremor was over.'Tis said a rapid
walk, on a frosty morning, will clear up the evidence of
a doubting Christian; I know it will bring out the courage




286         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
of the wavering soldier. We reached some cotton-bags,
and then rested till the Major led us to our places,
two companies at a time.  So near the foe, we hugged
our pits pretty closely that night, but again the rebels
gave no signs of life. This was the first really forward
move we had made since the command of the regiment
devolved on the Major, and he was determined we should
not be surprised and his own name sullied; so he spent
the night in the road, considerably in advance of our line
of earthworks. I laid me down to sleep behind a stump,
and woke up to find that my bed-fellow was a stalwart
darkey. Prejudices are often stronger than principles,
and though I was willing to fight, that under our flag all
(negroes included) should enjoy the rights of humanity,
I had hardly advanced far enough towards miscegenation,
to sleep with "' God's image carved in ebony." Involuntarily, I gave my blanket an extra shake that morning.
He was white when I laid down there; of that I am quite
sure; the origin of the first negro is only less of a puzzle
than how my sleeping with him converted.him into an
unmistakable darkey.
Not caring to spend the day idly basking in a summer
sun, I returned to the camp in morning, meeting hundreds
of negroes carrying shells and kegs of powder in full view
of the enemy, who seemed to care no more for them and
their hostile preparations than an elephant for a fly. The
cooks and musicians were bringing out our food. Carrying the blessings of this life, over an almost open field, to
within a few hundred yards of thousands of angry
weapons, is acting the Good Samaritan to some purpose,
and is not a bad school for volunteers of future forlorn
hopes.
About eleven A. M., of the 13th inst., nearly all our batteries opened on the enemy, and for an hour there was an
almost uninterrupted roar of artillery, as we gave rebeldom a specimen of every kind of death-dealing missile.
Then General Banks- sent in a flag of truce, demanding




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         287
the surrender of the place, which looked to us like boys'
plays Every shot is a summons to surrender, and if they
do not bringsout the white flag, certainly a verbal demand
will not. Perchance, the bombardment and flag of truce
were merely intended to give deserters a chance to
escape, for soon after several hundreds came into our
lines. General Gardner said duty required him to defend
the place. Though the morrow was the Sabbath day,
we knew that truth would then be preached with cannon
and impressed with bayonets, and attended with such
sacrificial blood as will bring the Mount of Ascension
nearer to Calvary. The afternoon was occupied with preparing for the assault. Night came, making no alteration
in the affairs of our regiment; so we concluded that the
troops of the centre were to be idle spectators of the engagernent, or kept back as reserves; but about midnight
we were called into line, and knew that our Sabbath
meant blood, and wounds, and death. After breakfast,
the surgeon sent a ration of whiskey, but he had been
anticipated. I reached the regiment about one A. M., and
found a man urging the boys to fill their canteens with
liquor, they having drunk what they thought necessary.
I knew that on comparatively empty stomachs much
iwhiskey would produce drunkenness, so I told him the
men had enough and he had better leave. Perchance, he
thought I was an officer, for he left, but soon returned,
saying the surgeon had sent him back to get rid of the
rest of his stock. Most of our boys refiased to take any
more, and I did not hear of half a dozen who were in any.
wise intoxicated. The Second Louisiana were nearly ali
drunk. We found that out afterwards to our sorrow.
In excellent order the Major placed us very much nearer
the fort than we had ever been before. Some companies
had no protection save a few bushes. The rebels were so
quiet, so seemingly unconscious of our presence, that then
we could have laid the bridge, crossed the ditch, and in
comparative safety the pioneers might have made a




288         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
breach in the parapet. I say in "comparative safety,"
for earthworks are so built that an enfilading fire will
sweep the ditches, as some men found to their cost, fourteen having gotten in in one place, of whom only three
came out alive. I located myself behind a stump, with
others, but the Major thought it Nwas not far enough firont,
so we made an advance, glad to do so, for that stump was
in exact range of our thirty-two pounders, which went
less than three feet over our heads. Considering that
shells often fall short or burst before their time, some
other locality was preferable. With the Major and some
of Company H, I rested behind a felled tree. It was a
mammoth one, but unfortunately, it had a mammoth bend
in it, and the rebels had so laid it that the bend gracefully
curved upwards, leaving the lower parts of our body about
as well protected as if we had sought shelter behind a
ladder. An unexploded shell, weighing over a hundred
pounds, had ceased its labors right under this bend.
With it and some brush, we closed up the aperture, so
that we were impervious to the eyes but not to the bullets
of the foe. A signal-rocket went up from the right, the
Major discharged his pistol, and then we all began to fire
as rapidly as possible. It was too dark to see the parapet, but understanding that our move wvas only a feint,
to confuse the enemy while the real attack was being
made right and left, we scattered our cartridges with a
perfect looseness. This was about three o'clcck in the
morning, and we kept up quite a continuous fire for four
or five hours. Some ten minutes elapsed-before we were
answered, and then in a manner that convinced us that
they knew we were only feigning. Bullets rattled round
us in sufficient numbers and with such accuracy as to send
poor Parker (C) to his long home, to wound others; and
to disagreeably bring up the contrast between that and
the quietness of a New England Sabbath. As we lay there,
we learned that no exciting work was before us; but irapid
musketry and wild cheering on the right told us that




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          289
there'the valor of the 27;th was being repeated. Alas!
again in vain. ~ Were it not for the occasional bullets that
found their way under our tree, we would have felt quite
safe, had we not been alarmed by a fire from our rear.
WVe had been at work several hours, when, with a cry of
"'Forward!"' some of the Second Louisiana came up,
leaving the great majority of their drunken  comradesfifteen or twenty rods behind. As their bullets would
come unpleasantly near, we would raise the shout, "Fire
higher!" and that shout was carried all along the front.
The miserable fello'vs thought, in their drunken valor,
that they were the nearest regiment to the foe, or caring
little and seeing no chance to hit rebels, concluded to do
sonme kind of execution. Who gave them liquor so freelyv
is answerable for the killing and wounding of many loyal
soldiers. So imminent was the danger from their guns,
that it became a questionable matter which was the safer
side of the logs.
A shell, we thought from one of our gunboats, bursted
over our heads.  There was a sudden bringing of"
limbsinto the smallest compass possible.. The second,
elapsing between the bursting of a shell and the falling
of its fragments, with the mental inquiry, " Who will be
hit?'will I?" is far from pleasurable. The emotions -of
the battle-field are peculiar and varying.  Seeing that
young Thompson (H), who had gone gallantly through
the scenes of the 27th, did not fire for.some time after
the order, I asked him the reason. He said, "Oh I I am
too frightened." I advised him to pitch in, and in a few
minutes he was as free from fear as any of us. To his
left was N. Taylor (H), one of our best and bravest; yet,
every time a shot passed by him, he' would start'and
shrink, whether it came from friend or foe. We tried to
reform  him, but it was no use, his nerves were more
powerful than his will; yet he kept steadily to worl;
He may have started just so in the fieree battle of last
month, but the'Christian determination to do his duty
13




290.        LIFE WrITH  THE FORTY-NINTH
bore him onward despite shrinking nerves. Such men
are thne really brave. While lying there, a white rabbit
sought shelter under our tree, and gazed at us with his
brown eyes in the most beseeching manner.
I have no incidents of peculiar heroism to record. We
did what we were ordered to do, nothing more, nothing
less. Bach, our color-sergeant, in carrying messages to
different parts of the field, and some who brought cartridge-boxes to us, had better opportunities of showing
their disregard for danger than any others, and they did
so. Let me assure you that roaming over such a field, at
such a time, is not the pleasantest work you can imagine.
You run from stump to stump, followed by bullets, not
knowing when you will be hit; or you go through brush
that balls regard no more than paper. We started with
eighty rounds of cartridges to each man, and some consumed, wasted, I might say, over a hundred. Having
fired twenty times, I became economical and rested.
While using that number, my gun got so foul that I had
to stop and clean it. Lying there, we became connoisseurs of bullets. A partially-spent ball passes by you
with a sound like the buzzing of a mad bee, while one in
full speed says, " Zip!"  Some of our shells would strike
the parapet, and exploding, send fragments back to
wound us. If a shell bursts after it stops, it scatters the
iron hail all around; but if, in consequence of the fuse
being too short, it bursts right over your head soon after
leaving the gun, you will be unscathed, for the momentum of the ball, inhering to all its particles, will carry the
fragments far ahead of you. Grape and canister are the
most deadly of all the munitions of war. They are fired
from guns of almost every calibre. Grape-shot, varying
in size from two ounces to two poundls each, are put up,
about a dozen together, in an iron wire, which, bursting by
the force of the powder, scatters them in every direction.
Canister shot is made of tin canisters, holding from a
pint to half a peck, filled with bullets. When the gun




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          291
is fired, these canisters burst, sending their contents
about like a fiery spray.
The most unpleasant part of the 14th of June was the
fierce heat. It was one of our sultriest days, a day, too,
without a cloud. By 7 A. M., the sun scorched us, and we
had to shade the barrel of our guns to keep them from
becoming too hot to handle. There we lay, right on the
ground, where we could not get a breath of air, the sun,
all the time, drawing the blood to our brains. I thought
I would go crazy. With my gun and ramrod and blouse,
I made an awning which added to our comfort; but the
rebel riflemen in the trees seeing us, and perchance thinking it was designed for the benefit of some officer, paid
us so many leaden compliments, that I had to pull it
down. I bore it till about noon, and could bear it no
longer; so, thinking " a living dog is better than a dead
lion," I started for the shade. The firing had greatly
ceased, being devoted only to those who exposed themselves. I ran in a zigzag course, to divert the aim of those
friends who were forcibly urging me to stay on the field,
to the nearest tree or stump, and then down I would fall.
I suppose my erratic movements attracted some attention,
for as I dropped behind one stump, a ball entered on the
ground on either side of me. I got so weak in getting
up and down, that my strength was failing me, so I bid
farewell to all dodging and stumps, and struck a bee-line
for the woods, almost careless whether I was hit or not.
I reached the edge of the woods and threw myself down
and slept, how long I know not, but when I woke, as
fresh as a lark, the sun was away in the west, broiling
down on me. About a week before the fight, and in anticipation thereof, I got half a pint of poor whiskey. It
was on hand that Sunday. Before starting to run back,
I drank' it all, and that, I believe, saved me from sunstroke.
About dark, the regiment returned to their- rifle-pits,
and tired men were sent out on the field as pickets. It




292    L IFE;WITH THE -FORTY-NINTH
was. a. dayof:fearful slaughter, poorly recompensed by
the few rods we gained. History records no grander
fighting than was witnessed on our right. The 31st Massachusetts filled part of the ditch with their cottonbags, and some unstrapped their guns from their backs,
crossed, and mounted: the parapets. There they found
two lines of:earth-works, so ranged that certain death was
the reward of that valor that mounted the outer walls.
Three small companies of the 8th Vermont lost fifty-eight
men by one volley; 338 were cut down of Weitzel's
brigade. It is thought that the loss of the right wing is
not less: than 1,500. It was an awful day, relieved only
by the grand heroism of the sons of New York and New
England.:Some of our be-st blood has saturated this
Slaughter's field. General Paine was severely wounded and
lay all the day exposed to the fearful fire. J. V. Woods,
Company E, 31st Massachusetts, got a bottle of cordial
and carried it to the General, but unfortunately, he did
not ~throw it near enough for him to reach, it. Getting
some lemons and water, he tried to'return, but within
five feet of his commander, he rolled over and never
moved again. John Williams, Company DD, 31st Massachusetis, also went to the relief ~with lemons and water,
but never returned. A 4th- Wisconsin man fell in an exposed place, and a sharpshooter fired at lim once or twice
afterwards; when a Connecticut boy crawled aftqr him,
took him on his back, and carriied him  safely to a place
where the stretcher-bearers could reach him. War is
horrid, but not altogether in vain when it shows to us
what noble qualities lie dormant in human nature. Representatives of the Christian andt Sanitary. Commission
are here, doing: all that met can do for the souls and
bodiesf of the suffering,.:I hardly think our surgeon- keep near enough to'us.
That evening we went to support Holcomb's battery, a
poor fellow. as left all alone jinth  delirium of fever,
and.was not found till: next' day,:, ie: had been kept at




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUTrrERS.:23
work too:long..I pity the surgeois., Fallible men, they
have to: decide who are really sick, and who are shirking;
and they make. mistakes, and receive many curses not their
due. Dr. Winsor is not as popular as he deserves to be.
Many of his own dollars has he expended: for the comfort
of the sick, but his apparent coldness of nature does not
allow him to minister that sympathy of manner which
attracts men's hearts more than gifts. Were there no
shirkers, he would be more popular. His earnest love
for the cause, and his conscientious desire to give to that
cause every man capable of advancing it, may leadl him
to remand to duty those who should be excused. - God
have mercy on them who thus throw their burdens on
weak and failing comrades! They may carry whole carcasses back to Berkshire, but for all the good they will
ever do, they might just as well rot and die in one of
these ditches. It seems to me, if manhood has not died
out, the sound of battle would bring before them visions
of brothers dying whom they might save, that would
crowd their future days and nights with unavailing remorse.
I send you a list of our casualties on the 14th inst.,
being one killed and seventeen wounded:
Company A-M. F. Dailey, hand, slightly; T. Rairdon, hand, slightly.
Company B-E. M. Martin, shoulder; I. Notlrse, leg.
Coimpany C-Killed: T. F. Parker.- Wounded: W.
E. Loomis, hand, slightly; J. E. Downs, hand,- slightly.
Company D-H. C. Winters, arm and chin, P. Devanny, shoulder.
Company E-W. Amstead, hand, slightly; A. E. Ferry, finger, amputated.
Company F-J.. B. Downs, shoulder and chin, slightly.
Company I-Lieutenant W. E. Nichols, ankle; E.
McDonald, finger, amputated; G. L. Geer, hand, slightly;
C. E. Wink, hand, slightly; H. Vosburgh, hip, slightly.
Company K —D. Funk, head and shoulder.




294        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Theron F. Parker (C), aged nineteen years, was one
of our nicest farmer boys from Lenox, and an excellent,
quiet, reliable-soldier. iHe was shot in the head, while
in the act of firing, and must have died immediately. He
remained in that kneeling position some time after his
death. His company was'so far advanced, that they had
no shelter but bushes. A good boy; we miss him: a
brave boy; his loss is a nation's loss, and his country's
glory gilds his lonely grave.
Norman Hollenbeck (E), aged twenty-one years, died
at Baton Rouge, June 12th. He was a young farmer
from Egremont. A good soldier, in young manhood, has
gone to his grave; and far off, in Massachusetts, a widowed mother yearns for the boy she is no more to see.
Christopher Rhoades (E) also died June 12th, in the
hospital at Baton Rouge. He was a New-Marlboro farmer and a nice man, but had not strength to endure the
exposure of a soldier's life., Consumption ended his life
in his twenty-sixth year. Of many, I have but little to
say; for young men, if quiet and moral, go through life,
attracting but little attention. You know they quietly
did life's duties, and that is all. Their many private excellencies are known mainly to loved ones, who mourn
them proudly. Of our comrade, all I know is, he was
much esteemed, and closed a steady life on the battlefield of the hospital, and that he is mourned for, not only
by his brother, who is with us, but also by the members
of his company.
-David S. Bliss (K) was a farmer from Florida, aged
twenty-four years. He was wounded in the battle of the
27th, and taken to Baton Rouge, where he died on the
13th inst. He was a steady, quiet, kind man, and where
courage was needed, proved himself a reliable soldier.
He leaves a family to mourn for him while they remember the glory and the grief of a day that brought darkness to so many New England homes.
Lieutenant Isaac -Eugehie Judd is dead. The sad news




1MASSACHUSJS VOLUNTEERS.         295
reached us on Saturday night, illy fitting us for the stern
duties of the morrow. Sadness settled on every heart,
for we loved and were proud of him. I have seen no
profounder sorrow than was caused among us by the melancholy intelligence.  In the charge of the 27th, he was
wounded in the groin, in front, just at the joint of the
thigh. The doctor said that the bullet narrowly missed
the femoral artery, and that had it gone an inch to one
side of it to where it did, he would have bled to death
instantly.  We all thought at that time, with him, that
the wound was not serious; and on being brought from
the field, he answered, when asked if he was badly hurt,
"Not so badly but that I shall get another lick at them
yet." His true soldier-nature thought more about winning the victory than about himself. The wound was in
the nature of a slit, causing the surgeon to think the ball
might have dropped out. If it remained in his body, it
would not hurt him for a while, perchance never; and as
the wound was so near the main artery, probing was not
deemed advisable. Two days after the battle; he was
removed to the hospital at Baton Rouge, and there, with
other officers, received the most excellent care and attention. The doctors and nurses took a special interest in
his welfare, as if conscious his was no ordinary life. Some
one of Co. K was nearly always in attendance on him;
so in hope and cheerfulness, he passed the days till, on
the 10th of June, the wound started to bleed, and he had
spasms of pain at intervals of about five minutes. The
doctor would stop the bleeding for the time being, but he
grew no better, and it became evident the artery was
rupturel by the process of suppuration of the wound.
At last, he told the surgeon he wanted the wound examined and something done, as matters could not be worse,
and might be bettered; besides, the spasms of pain were
becoming very agonizing. On the 12th inst., the medical director of this department, an eminently skilful surgeon, extracted the ball and tied up the artery, the lieu



296         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-INNTH
tenant being under the influence of chloroform and ether.
It was the only chance of saving his life, and a doubtful
one at best. He may have realized his condition, but
said nothingo about it. As late as one o'clock, he was
quiet, and his voice clear and- strong, but.towards night
the fatal hour came.  As was feared, the artery burst.
The doctor delayed the approach of death, by keeping
his thumb pressed on the artery; but very soon he breathed
his last, calmly and peacefully.  His brother-officers, to
whom he was endeared by the associations of private
life, of the camp, of the battle-field, and of the hospital,
gathered round his death-bed. With brave men, he had
bravely fought; it was fitting that brave men should go
with him as far as possible into the dark valley. His last
words were, " Doctor, I can't see."
Lieutenant Kellogg, who was going home, was immediately apprised of his death by telegraph. He replied,
"' Send the body down to New Orleans."  That was impossible, for there was no boat, and no metallic case or
suitable cBffin could be had. The surgeons allowed the
body to be kept as long as possible, but it changed so rapidly, that he was buried the next day in the cemetery at
Baton Rouge. At sunset of June 13th, Lieutenant Judd
sank to his rest,'while on the field of his young renown,
graves were yawning for fresh victims.
"I am weary pining;
Brothers red with brothers' gore;
Only that the wrong we're righting,
Truth and honor's battle fighting,
I would draw my sword no more."
It is "truth and honor's battle" we are fighting. Only
this assurance enables us to yield up such lives, and feel
that even this cost is not too great, if only thus God's
truth can be maintained. Because the cause is so much
more sacred than this life, ay, than a hecatomb of such
lives, we put away our dead in silence, and- gird ourselves




MASSACHUSETT S VOLUNTEERS. -        297
to follow his brilliant example, though it leads us to kin,
dred graves. "Doctor, I can't see," said our dying comrade. We trust that now, in the purer light of eternity,
at the touch of the heavenly Physician,: he can clearly
recognize that' his death was not in vain..-We thank God
that battle strikes down not alone the unworthy, but also
those o'er whom we weep bitter tears, so that the profoundest hopes of our country become as enduring as the
profoundest sorrows of our hearts.  Martyrs' blood is
holy seed, from which springs up a posterity careless of
death, if only they may tread the path re'ndered glorious
by their ancestors' deeds. Around the tombs that crowd
the cemetery at Baton Rouge, some of the holiest associations of our nation gather; and at the grave of the gallant and much-loved Judd we drink such draughts of
patriotism, albeit:inter'mingled is the fennel's bitter leaf,
that our moral vision is cleared; and we no longer, say,
"Doctor, I can't see," but as in a vision of light, we see
the Genius of Liberty, her "-garments rolled in blood,"
leading America through seas of gore and over mountains of slain, to the promised land; the breezes of which
unfurl a banner, whose stars, hiding its stripes, reflect the
glory of that God who is now training us to " proclaim
liberty throughout all the land, unto all. the inhabitants
thereof"  Noble, gifted comrade! he has not died in
vain, nor prematurely. His young life counts more for
God and humanity than scores of those who are ignobly
deaf to: a bountry's.call, though they may fill up the full
measure of their years. The warrior sleeps well, having
by noble deeds done something to right great wrongs,
and to prepare a nation to fulfil the grandest mission ever
intrusted to any people.. 
"I can't see!"  Yes, there are hearts in Berkshire
which will take up that dying cry.  For a while they
will not be able to see why their only boy should fall in
manly prime. A father's pride will struggle hard to get
the.mastery over his sorrow and: loneliness, while the
13*




298        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
aching heart of a mother, like Rachel, " may refuse to be
comforted because her children are not." A manyvoiced wailing goes up to God from ten thousand aching
hearts in lonely homes, from which life's life, love, has
gone out. They may yet "see" a brightness gilding
their sorrow, as a nation sheds its tears of pride and joy
over the graves of them whose blood turned away a
Divine wrath. I sadden as I think of the to be bereaved
hearts that clung so fondly about Eugene Judd, but there
are parents who would give all their wealth could they
mourn as proudly over the tombs of their children as can
the parents of the hero we've buried.
Lieutenant Judd was born in the State' of-New York,
March 7th, 1840. He was the only son of A. G. Judd,
formerly of South Lee. He had received an excellent
education, was a splendid penman, and a very superior
business man. For a season he was a popular teacher of
the public schools of Great Barrington. At the time of
his enlistment he was engaged in the store of S. B. Goodale,
South Egremont, of whose family he was a member, and
by them loved and cherished as a brother. Though occupied in nothing but a small country store, he gave to it
all his energy, and manifested business qualifications that
promised a brilliant future. His social nature was of a
rare order. He made friends readily, and kept them.
Gentlemanly, genial, kind, and sacrificing, "to know him
was to love him." He joined Company E, and was appointed sergeant, having declined a lieutenancy in favor
of his tried friend, Lieutenant R. T. Sherman, who has
nobly proved his fitness to lead brave men into the jaws
of death, from which he himself so narrowly escaped with
severe wounds. For a man like young Judd, the sacrifice was no light one.  Proud-spirited and gifted, a
subordinate position was not his proper place. He felt
within himself the capacity to command men. Faithfully
he did the duties of a sergeant in Company E, till Captain
Weston (K) secured his services in raising his company,




MASSACHUSET13 VOLUNTEERIS.           299
of which he was elected  second-lieutenant.  On the
resignation of Lieutenant Taft, Colonel Bartlett appointed
himn first-lieutenant.
His military qualifications were of a marked character.
He had not his superior in the regiment, considering
his experience.  With a natural fondness for military
pursuits, he mastered the details of his profession with
great readiness; and, had his life been spared, he intended to remain in the army till the close of the war. He
doubtlessly would have risen to distinction. He was
much of a favorite with the field and staff officers. The
Colonel saw in him a brother-spirit, and gave him more
than an ordinary share of his notice. Petted, yet he
did not become self-conceited and vain.  Not obsequious to his superiors in rank, he was not arrogant to his
temporary inferiors. None mourn him more sincerely
than the privates of that choice and intelligent company
(K). To his immediate superior, Captain Weston1 he
united the respectful kindness of a brother to the submission of a subordinate, and together they lived in confidence and happiness.  I have lingered long at his grave,
longer than at any other grave, not because he was
morally superior or more patriotic than many others of
our " fallen brave,'? but because he was a marked character in a position where that character could become
known and appreciated. I now leave that grave, hoping
that it may never be disturbed, but that his remains shall
continue'to lie here, to teach the future freemen, white
and black, of this State, how costly the price paid for
their enfranchisement. He was buried in his military
dress; and his sword, so nobly worn, the gift of an appreciating friend, was sent home to his bereaved father.
"They have sent me the sword that my brave boy wore,
On the field of his young renown;
On the last red field, where his faith was sealed,
And the sun of his days went down.




S00           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Away with the tears
That are blinding me so;
There is joy in his years,
Though his young'head be low;
And I'll gaze with a solemn delight evermore
On the sword that my brave boy wore.
"'Twas for freedom and home that I gave him away,
Like the sons of his race of old;
And though aged and gray, I am sonless this day,
He is dearer a thousand-fold.
There's a glory above him
To hallow his name,
A land that will love him
Who died for its fame;
And a solace will shine, when my old heart is sore,
Round the sword that my brave boy wore.
"It was kind of his comrades, ye know not how kind,
It was more than the Indies to me;
Ye know not how kind, and bow steadfast of mind,
The soldier to sorrow can be.
They know well how lonely,
How grievously wrung,
Is the heart that its only
Love loses so young;
-And they closed his blue eyes when the battle was o'er,
And his sent old father the sword that he wore."




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           301
LETTER XXXI.
BEFORE PORT HUDSON, July 6, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
I am sick of hearing the cry, " Time's out.;" as if our
country's claims on us expired with the 19th of June. A
Pennsylvania regiment refused to fight at the first Bull
Run battle because their term of service expired the day
befbre. We scorned them-; and now the honor of Massachusetts is somewhat stained, for the 4th refused to do
duty, and, on stern measures being threatened, one
hundred still remained disobedient, and are now under
arrest, as also are some of the 48th, for a similar offence.
The 50th were about to follow suit, when Banks informed
them it would be a death or Dry Tortugas affair, and so
they volunteered to stay two weeks longer, and were publicly thanked for it. The Major went to head-quarters
on the 19th ult., and though he keeps his own counsel, I
guess he learned there that if we refused duty, we would
have to measure arms with the power of the United States
government. He did not tell us so, in so many words,
but we have clearly inferred it. General Banks said, it
was not his province to decide when the respective terms
of service ended, but that of the Secretary of War.
Troops were put under his command to do a certain work,
and he meant to keep them till their term was out, according to the decision of the authorities at Washington. I
believe the whole of the 5pth have served out their time
of service; an.d if Banks refuses to let them go, we might
as well submit quietly, for there is no help for us. To do
our boys credit, they have been quite' quiet about -it, and
have only rebelled in private murmurs. They say that




302         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH'
Banks should give us the opportunity of volunteering till Port Hudson surrenders. They forget that that,
unless previously asked for by us, would make him the
decider of the time the claims of the government cease.
One'of Company A, at Baton Rouge, refused to do duty,
and was sent to prison as his reward. Since it is decided
that the nine months' men cannot be drafted till all between twenty and forty-five years shall have been exhausted, it would be wiser to send us home, and so secure
our re-enlisting. If government can keep us a month
longer than we agreed to serve, why not a year or three
years? We have the letter of the law on our side, but
patriotism demands our continued service. I would go
through a dozen May 27ths,-rather than now leave the
field; ay, if I was certain of death. I can see no reason
why-I should fail my couutry, merely because the 19th
of June has come and gone. It may be true, as some
say, that we are poorly led and uselessly slaughtered, and
that the brains are all within and not " befbre Port Hudson;" but that should only make the'voice of our bleeding
country sink more deeply into our hearts, and bring out
the firmer valor to counteract the inefficiency  of our
(eaders.
We are not poorly led. An iron man, with a sagacious
head on his shoulders, is holding the reins. Artillery
failing, assault or abandonment of the siege is our alternative. Assaults have as yet failed, but we are preparing
for another on a grander scale. Only fourteen thousand
mlen now draw rations. That is our whole force, and includes the sick not in hospitals, cooks, teamsters, cavalry,
artillerists, and others, who count nothing in a charge.
We have not this day 10,000 fighting men before Port
Hudson. Snmall but frequent battles at our rear; the
alarm at Baton Rouge; the raid on Springfield landing;
the gathering of the foe near Donaldsonville (where
they attacked Fort Butler), by thousands, all make us
doubt whether we will not go home vanquished rather'




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         -303
than victors. Give the rebels another week and they
will gather men enough in our rear to compel the abandonment of the siege. We must get into Port Hudson.
Then we could defy the mighty arm of Johnston, which,
if the report be true, is rushing down on us, unless they
closed the river below, of which we have no fears. A
rebel uprising in New Orleans is not improbable. Orders
forbidding gatherings of more than six in the streets,
have been issued. Guerrillas fire at our river boats. No
wonder that Banks is sick, yet his will fails not, and God
have mercy on those Massachusetts men who fail him
and the nation in this hour of peril, for I am sure they
will get no mercy at home, save from doting mothers, in
whose bosoms patriotism never lived or has died out.
Escaped soldiers say the enemy has but 2,500 men, no
inside works, provisions for one week, and forty rounds
of car'tridges. Be assured of that, and that that week
would not bring up their friends, and an assault were better
postponed. But how can prisoners know these things?
Igo everywhere and know nothing.  Guesses are all. I
suppose General Banks is in constant communication, by
water, with Grant, and knows all about the movements of
Johnston, and that he gives some credence to these stories
about short rations within the fort, for the long-expected
assault has been deferred. Immediately, after the direful
14th June, he issued orders, to secure, if possible, 1,000
volunteers to storm the enemy's works. A silver medal
was to be given to each volunteer. The 49th furnished no
volunteers.  I do not blame them.  Had I been present
when the call was made, I would not have volunteered.
The history of previous assaults rises up as warnings.
We will go where ordered, not with former enthusiasm,
but with no less of will, but we will not thrust ourselves
into the valley of death. Our quota was obtained by
drafting.  The elected afterwards volunteered.  They
wanted to be robed in that name of honor. Lieutenant
Smith (H) was chosen their leader, but being sick, another sick man, Lieutenant Dresser (F) volunteered to




304         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTII
take his place. We have no nobler than that Dresser.
Prostrate with the popular disease, jaundice, and exhausted, he looks better fitted for the hospital than the
"forlorn hope;" but Lieutenant Doolittle is sick at
Baton Rouge, where Captain Morey is also, unable to
carry out his desire to join his company, and so Dresser
clings to his men and to duty. On hearing of his step,
Mlo ey tried to get up here, but he could not get a pass.
Baton Rouge was threatened; nightly, the troops were
under arms; cannon were posted everywhere; the sick
and convalescents were its main defence; thousands of
wounded crowded its hospitals; it was one of our bases
of supplies, and at all hazards must be held. Badly as
we needed men, so valuabke an officer. as Captain Iorey
could not be spared. Failing to come up, he sent a written protest against Dresser's leaving his company, which
his fall would make officerless. On Sunday, the 21st, the
stormers from the centre reported at General Augur's
quarters, and because our boys were not volunteers, they
were sent back. The work demalids men who would
throw their whole souls into it. Perchance he feared
that those who claimed that their time had expired could
not do, so. He may have been right, but I doubt whether
Colonel Birge will have any men in his choice band who
will go further than they would have done.
The assault will be on the right and on the left, where
the ambulances have been collected. Daily have we
been expecting it. The boats are not allowed to leave
the landing, but they tarry there to bear the wounded
to Baton Rouge. Preparations are being made to undermine the enemy's works. The frames we watched so
closely have been taken away, so the hour is near at
hand. On the right and left we are within a few yards
of the foe. This time there will be no marching hundreds of rods under a galling fire, to reach the ditch and
parapet, half dispirited by our loss and almost totally
exhausted by our labor.  Gallantly have the negroes




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         305
held the most exposed part of our lines, advancing rod
by-rod till not a rebel dare show his head. Frequent
sorties have been successfully met by black hands, who
dyed their glittering bayonets and their budding hopes
in the blood of many a former master. They have not
o.nce flinched. Protecting us and carving out for themselves a name and a nationality, they have shown the
world that manhood, crushed for centuries, answers to
the call of God and freedom. We may leave our dead
and leave this place in rebel hands, but we will also leave
memories that will make the name of " Port Hudson" as
dreadful as the sound of a "fire-bell in the night," to
those who shall attempt the re-enslavement of the African.
For the privilege of commapding a negro company, I
would be almost willing to endure for years the monotony,
the mental stagnation, the ernui of a soldier's life. 1
might fall, and a demand for my body might be answered,
"We've buried him with his niggers," and to my children, I could leave no richer legacy. To die for one's
race, and that the dominant race of the world, is noble
indeed, but nobler yet to link your life and death with the
elevation of your own land, and of a people, the despised
and rejected of earth.
What we will meet when we get inside the parapet, we
know not. Batteries may open cross fires on us; exploding mines may mingle our mangled remains with the torn
bodies of desperate foes, but, if there be nothing but bayonet work, we will be victors. To stand cold steel requires the firm nerves, the fixed will, heirlooms of Northern freemen. It would require whole chapters to describe the immense amount of engineering work that has
been done on our right and left. Scores of miles of road
have been made, mainly at night; ravines hundreds of
feet deep have been bridged for the passage of guns
weighing ten thousand pounds each. Hundreds on hundreds of miles of rifle-pits unite the different batteries.
On the left, we have rerected a battery of twenty guns,




306         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NTNTH
within fifty rods of the foe, who scarcely interrupted us
by a shot. For a week an informal truce preserved quiet
on both sides. Within a few yards, mutual enemies
worked to prepare agencies of destruction and of preservation, and not a single gun indicated that they were foes.
Often, the laugh and the jest would be interchanged, and
like our own boys on the centre, they would mutually
throw down their guns, meet as friends, exchange papers,
receive tobacco for bread or beef, and then go back to
their lines, awaiting the order to exchange missiles of death.
Frequently, we see rebels come outside the parapet, to
get muddy water from the ditch, but we do not molest
them. On the left, we have dug under their citadel,
which we had previously battered almost down, since
the informal truce was suspended, and have also silenced
their river batteries, that the boats could come nearer.
On their battered citadel floats a flag, which again and
again has been shot away, replacing which has cost them
many a brave life. We are far beneath them, and through
troughs, they roll down thirty-two pound shells, the bursting of which is by no means pleasant, though seldom
fatal. Haind-grenades, or small shells are thrown at the
foe, and not unfrequently the enemy catch them up be
fore exploding, and hurl them into our ranks to do the
work of death.  "Curses coming home to roost," we
say.
The Forty-ninth are located far in front, in rifle-pits,
supporting two large batteries. A, H, F, and D, are on
the verge of a woods and are comparatively comfortable,
but the rest of the companies are many rods ahead, exposed to the unbroken rays of the sun. In going from
one part of the regiment to the other, it is necessary,
after passing through a ravine, to go along pits, which
are nearly at right angles with the rebel lines, affording them a fine chance to hit us, which they occasionally improve.  For three weeks has our left been
thus exposed, nearly every night of which has been




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           307
marked with rain, making their sleeping apartments far
from comfortable, for now, that they are so much exposed, sleeping in the pits is a matter of necessity.
When matters are too quiet, our boys get up on the
works to invite the fire of their foes. By watching
carefully the smoke they can jump down before the bullet
comes. The danger is, some fellow whom they are not
watching may, show his skill. The rebs don't fire at all
of these chances, for it occasionally happens that one or
two thus make targets of their bodies, so that their
coinrades may fire when the enemy exposes himself to
fire at us. This kind of life is pleasant for a few days,
but three weeks of burning sun, of rainy nights, and wet
beds, take all the fun out of it. Near our works we
have found springs of good, cool water. I have my
doubts whether it would pass muster at home, but to us
it is a highly prized luxury.
With good sense, the Mlajor allows the boys much
liberty, and they roam about, regaling themselves with
the novel sights and scenes and the abundant blackberries that crowd and adorn our hedges. I was sorry
to see one poor fellow tied to a tree for insulting his
captain, especially as he was in an exposed place, but I
was glad that the Major, in his leniency, was determined
to enforce discipline, though "time be out." He must
do it, or nothing but our good sense would keep us from
degenerating into an armed rabble.
Speaking of raids and scares, reminds me that the
raid on Springfield Landing was a serious matter. A
body of rebels scattered the few troops that were there,
fired a storehouse, and then retreated at the hoarse voice
of a gunboat. Several hundred contrabands were living
there in mud huts, and at the first alarm rushed on board
the steamboats, twenty-one being drowned in their frantic
efforts to secure their safety. That panic spread to our
cook-stands, a mile to the rear of the regiment, and to
see our butcher pick up his.small demijohn of whiskey,




308         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
which he sells at two dollars per pint bottle, and rush
for the before carefully avoided rifle-pits, followed by
some of the cooks, who hastily upset their coffee and
beans, resolved that the rebels should not breakfast
thereon, was one of those rich incidents that need to be
seen to be fully appreciated.
I offended a colored woman by calling her a "contraband."  Be it understood, that "contrabands" are supported by the Government. She supported herself. A
sergeant at the Landing, in charge of some colored
workmen, was telling one of them that he would be tied
up by the thumbs and whipped at sunset. I asked him
by what right he would inflict that punishment on a negro
more than on a white citizen. He said it was LieutenantColonel Benedict's order. I replied that no officer had
a right to transform a soldier into a whipper of poor
darkeys, and as for me, I would die rather than so lower
my manhood. He shrugged his shoulders, adding that
soldiers' feelings are not much respected. They can
demand respect being paid to those feelings, or, if nothing
else, can scornfully and proudly suffer fior violation of
such orders. Send a man into a charge on Slaughter's
field for God and Freedom, and then ask him to aid in
tying up a poor negro by the thumbs and to apply the
lash! Like Rossiter, when told to "buck" one of the
" mackerels" at Snedeker's, he asked Captain Garlick if
duty required him to do that; so a man's self-respect
would put to his conscience the same question, and, receiving the emphatic "No," he would tell Colonel Benedict, or General Banks himself, that he was a soldier,
not a plantation overseer, and abide the consequences.
If he did not, his meanness would prove him a coward.
Let contrabands be treated as white workmen. If they
will not duly serve the government that feeds them,
send them off to shift for themselves, but God forbid
that our Government, in full view of Port Hudson, shall
take up the abandoned slave-whip.




MASSACHUSEITS VOLUNTEERS.          309
I have made a flying visit to Baton Rouge, and was
surprised to see how sickness improved the appearance
of some of our comrades, and only of some. Not a few
would tremblingly ask, me, "when will the regiment return, that we can go home?" Poor fellows! some of
them have seen home for the last time. Arrangements
are being made to send our sick North. The loudest
complainers have secured their tickets, while noble spirits
like G. C. Ray (D), are destined to tarry.  Thley should
go; for a few weeks longer, and they will be past hope
of recovery. Mr. Ray has gotten some writing to do for
the medical department, that his mind may be employed,
hoping thus to counteract the killing monotony of camplife. His life is too valuable to be lost to his family and
his country. Leaving a luxurious home, in middle life,
earnestly devoted to the great priniciples of the war, he
came to fight for Freedom and his native land; and sad
is it that the battle hour finds him utterly unable to do a
soldier's part, where brave hearts are needed. This; as
much as disease, is eating out his life, and, I much fear,
his will be one of the graves that swallow up those gallant spirits who yearned to do or die, but are ordained to
learn life's hardest lesson, ":stufer and be strong."  It is
heart-rending to watch these brave fellows sinking into
death. Knowing they can by no possibility serve their
country, their one prayer is, to be spared to die at home.
The ambition of the patriot is swallowed up in the yearnings of the husband, the father, the son. "Victory, and
then home," wells up as a prayer from our hearts. God
only knows with what intensity and what agony they
unite in the same petition; and, if weak, almost gone,
they emphasize " home," who is so much the patriot, so
little the man, as to censure them?  The dulness of the
camp is fearful, and walks through the city are not much
more cheering.  The streets are crowded with pale,
3maciated, maimed soldiers. Hobbling about on crutches,
arms in slings, or with "' empty sleeves," you see the dear




310        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
fellows, and, with moistened eyes, think of. their proud
but dependent futures. Most of the wounded are in good'spirits, while the merely sick look very despondent. The
hospitals are crowded, and they are. making arrangements
for the victims of the coming battle. Our privileges are
costly. The hospitals are in excellent order, and many
of their stricken inmates are really jolly. The few loyal
women of the place minister unto them; and some, whose
sympathies rise above sectional animosity, unite with
them in these offices of human kindness:. Colonel Bartlett's arm gets no better. Colonel Sumner goes home. I
am sorry for that. By the time he reaches Berkshire he
will be nearly well, and will find it difficult to reconcile
his leaving the regiment with the people's idea of his
duty; for, you are aware, that stay-at-home patriots put
the standard of othei' people's duties very high. Like
Artemus Ward, they are ready to sacrifice-their wife's
brother. We do not particularly need the services of
Colonel Sumner, though the presence of a cool head and
a brave heart is not to be despised; but we regret that
he should take a step that may mar his proud and unstained record.
Lieutenant Kniffin, who, to his wound, has had fever
superadded, also leaves. We had few Kniffins. Happy
the regiment that has many such! No officer was more
really loved than he. A good judge says, that Company
B. is the best disciplined company of the 49th, and I kow
that its business account has been kept in an unsurpassed
manner.  Garlick and Kniffin are a strong team, and
would have made Company B one of -the best companies,
if it had originally been the worst, instead of being A No. 1
from the beginning. We begin to hope that the brave
Siggins (though minus an eye), and Sherman will recover.
Our effective men form a company in the convalescent
regiment, under the command of Captain Morey. If the
hour of their trial shall come, Morey will show that necessity, not a lack of courage, alone kept him from




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.        311
receiving his share of the glory that gathers round Port
Hudson.
Independence Day passed without the expected assault.
Though long deferred, certainly that would be the day.
We wanted to connect the surrender of this place with
the hallowed memories of the 4th of July. It seemed
that the miserable traitors had forgotten the very existence of our National Anniversary, for when a salute of
thirty-four unshotted guns announced its advent, they
noticed no death tokens following the report, and thought
we were firing at Johnston, who had at last come to their
help. They mounted the walls and cheered lustily; but
some guns that were shotted, showed them the propriety
of not "hallooing till they get out of the woods."  No
wonder they forgot that the nation's birthday had again
rolled round, for they are doing what they can to blot
out the day, and to give the lie to those great truths that
alone separate it from common days. The thirty-four
guns rang out to them our proud assertion that.every
State was yet in the Union, and while we had a cannon
or a man left, all should stay there. The noon salute
was fired from Captain Holcomb's 2d Vermont battery,
and he showed his aversion to traitors by crowding
his guns with shells, so that the national salute might
ring out the guilty souls of some who were doing their
best to prevent that day from becoming a world's holiday.
A few days before, Banks made stirring speeches to the
forlorn hope, and to those who are to follow them on the
right, in which he alluded to our flag floating in triumph
over Port Hudson on the 4th of July. As that day
passed without any general movement on our side, we
conclude that he believes the enemy has eaten nearly all
his mules, and that he can safely wait a few days for
starvation to do the work of an assault. I hope he is
right. There are full enough precious graves here, full
enough loyal hearts whose saddest recollection will twine
about these graves.




312        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Henry E. Grippen (B), a farmer from Lanesboro, aged
thirty-five years, was killed by a sharpshooter on Sunday,
the 21 st of June. He was one of the number who were
chosen to represent our regiment in the grand storming
party. General Augur dismissed them, and perchance,
congratulating himself on being snatched from the fiery
furnace, he wended his way to the rifle-pits, where he
was suddenly struck down by a ball crashing through his
brain. How little man knows where lies the path of
safety! Of this only are we assured, that the path of
duty is the path of eternal safety. Wounded about sundown, he died about 11 P. M. A good soldier was thus
lost to Company B; and wife and children, so near, as
they imagined, to the happy reunion, will see but his
vacant place in our ranks "when the boys come home."
nCoratt Heins (B), a good, diligent soldier, was wounded in the back by the bursting of one of our own shells,
June 22d, and died at Springfield Landing. He was on
duty in Slaughter's field, in advance of our battery. A
shell exploding too soon; deprived us of a worthy comrade, and a family of its head and protection. He was
aged thirty-eight years, and like his brother soldier
(Grippen), was a farmer from Lanesboro. His German
blood has given this land a new right to the title, the
world's asylum. The composite blood that is restoring
our national purity, sweeps away the heresy that " America belongs to Americans."  By "life and blood surrender" of many of the foreign-born, it belongs to the
world. We are battling for the world's triumph.
Joseph B. Wolcott, Orderly Sergeant of Co. H, was
shot by a sharpshooter, on the morning of June 23.
It was a beautiful morning, and as he sat near the edge
of the rifle-pits and saw the sun gilding the majestic
trees, he said to a friend, "- What a lovely morning this
would be to die!" Soon after that a bullet passed
through his arm into his lung. Seeing that his arm was
bleeding, a Comrade said, "Joe! it is only your arm;




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          313
you are safe yet;" but his reply convinced them that the
"lovely morning" would witness the close of his young
life. For a while he suffered fearfully. The news soon
spread, "Wolcott is shot!" and many of his associates
gathered round him. To Rising, who joined church
at the same time and place, he said, " Ned! they have
killed me."  Rev. J. H. Wood (E) came, talked with
him about the world, on whose verge he was trembling,
and received the comforting assurance that a Christian
soldier was laying off his armor. At the dying man's
request, he led in prayer. It was an hour long to be
remembered. Giving to his friends, for his young wife,
some blood-stained tokens of his death and love, he
tenderly reproved his comrades for their sins, and affectionntely exhorted them to turn to Jesus. The moral
sublimity of that hour rose high above the grandeur and
heroism that marked our battles in which he always bore
so honorable a part. Those who had thought but little
of the claims of religion, who had almost believed it
was an encumbrance to a soldier, there learned the
source from which the quiet young Sandisfield farmer
drew his unwavering courage. Before leaving his home,
he had, by will, disposed of his earthly effects, and now,
pointing his comrades to his Saviour, he sweetly fell
asleep in Jesus. We buried him by the side of his
intimate friend, Lieutenant Deming, with prayer and
exhortation, and sadly returned to the scene of duty
and of death.  Mrs. Deming and Mrs. WVolcott have
been living together since their husbands left for the
war. Seeing those graves, where the soldier-friends lie
side by side, we could but think of a home in Berkshire,
where their wives are living; —one mourning, and the
other comforting. Alas! the latter knows not that a
message will soon reach her that will make her a sister
in sorrow, and, by the sacredness of her own grief, more
fully prepare her to sympathize with the bereaved. A
mutual agony now seals their solemn sisterhood. Sandis14




314           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
field, stricken as she is, will add to her mourning on
hearing of the death of Joseph B. Wolcott. Rich must
she be, if she has better sons left. Falling in his early
manhood, for he was only twenty-five years of age, he
yet lived long enough to benefit his race, and to twine
round his memory the undying gratitude of a free
nation.  His fellow-soldiers knew  him, and they prized
him as a comrade and loved him as a man.  None, none
of our "fallen brave" has sunk to rest, round whom
gathered more of respect, confidence, and affection.
"Shot through the lungs, how he lay, how he lay,
At Port Hudson all that fearful day,
Slowly bleeding his life away I
"Yet why our life but to spend it free,
As the snow that fails on the angry lea,
For the Right, for the Truth, for Liberty?' And the brave heart knows, with a quiet content,
When treason and murder their shafts have sent,
That the time is at hand for which it was lent.
"But oh! Fatherland, that we love so well,
Shall the future annals shuddering tell
It was all in vain that our heroes fell?
"We give them up at thy bitter cry,
We say no word when they go to dieIs it Freedom's dawn that reddens the sky?
" Ah, comrade, sleep well in thy soldier's bed
At Port Hudson, in the field of our dead,
Who knows who watcheth overhead?"
Charles H. Cook (B), farmer boy, from West Stockbridge, aged twenty, was severely wounded in the chest,
in the battle of May 27th, and died on the 2d inst.,
at Baton Rouge. Bravely fighting, he met his deathwound, and now sleeps among strangers. Peace to
his ashes!




MASSACHIUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         83 5
The day following the battle of June 14th, General
Banks sent in wines, medicines, and other necessaries
for our wounded. As a so-called "honor" sometimes
survives thle burial of patriotism, these supplies may
fulfil their mission. While the flag of truce under which
this kind action was done was flying, an officer, stooping
down to pick up some trophies, was reminded by a
bullet that he was abusing that flag. The rebels have
been seen working, when honor thus demanded rest, so
we think our poor sufferers will hardly get all the luxuries we have sent them. MIany of our dead, and some
of our wounded remained on the field from Sunday to
Wednesday, when Gardner, finding their decomposing
bodies were working  pestilence, requested  General
Banks to bury them. One hundred and fourteen were
found, two of whom were still alive, almost eaten up
with maggots. The enemy says we could have buried
them on Monday, but would not ask the favor, and left
the putrid bodies to annoy and disable them. I hope
they lie, for that is too horrible even for war. Captain
Garlick, after that battle, led out the- pioneers to act as
pickets, and until 10 o'clock of the next night, they
were not relieved, all of which time they were without
food or water. They suffered, but who can describe the
sufferings of those wounded ones during the awful four
days between their fall and recovery!
Governor Andrew having refused to commission
Brooks (C), Siggins (D), and Gleason (K), (whom Colonel
Bartlett appointed 2d lieutenants in their respective
companies,) on the ground that in nine mouths' regim3nts, officers must be elected by the men, elections to
fill these vacancies were held June 24th, at the rifle-pits.
That part of the regiment which is before the foe is the
regiment proper, though not one-tenth of the men are
present. The veterans were to express their preference.
In Co. K., Sergeant Rising had a majority on the first
ballot, but thinking that the office properly belonged to




316        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
the wounded Gleason he generously declined the proffered
honor, and Gleason was elected. In Co. D, the appointment of Lieutenant Siggins was confirmed by the
unanimous vote of the members thereof.  Had all of
that company been present, I doubt not that the result
would have been just the same. In Co. C, Sergeant
Strong led Sergeant Nash one vote, and was, consequently, elected. To choose between Strong and Nash
was not easy work. Both aie brave soldiers and both
have fully done their duty, and we were sorry that we
could not elect both. Perchance Strong's being one of
the " forlorn hope" turned the scale in his favor. In the
first election for 2d lieutenant, next to Wells, the then
successful candidate, they had the greatest number of
votes.  Lieutenant Strong deserves this compliment.
No man was ever more faithful and reliable. The honor
is much greater than if he had been elected at the first.
We have tried him for more than nine months as sergeant, as acting orderly, and as commander, and this
election is our mature verdict of "Well done!" Captain Lingenfelter, though still complaining, has returned
to duty. Lieutenant Foster has been sick for a few
days. He now occupies and merits a warm place in our
confidence. Prejudices, honestly entertained, have been
swept away, and since we have been in this department,
and especially since we have been fighting and facing the
foe, we recognize in Lieutenant D. B. Foster a man whom
we can trust, a friend who sympathizes with us, and an
officer prompt and fearless in the discharge of duty. For.
tunately, good sense and patriotism kept him from throwing up his commission when the authorities refused him
promotion, and preserved him to us and to the working out
for himself a place in the respect and confidence of the
whole regiment. May he long live to preserve and enjoy
what he has so fairly gained, is the unanimous wish of
the members of Co. C.
I see that Orderly Tuttle has again stolen away from




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          317
the hospital to take his place in the presence of danger,
though his wound of the 27th is scarcely healed. We,
who charged under his lead on that fatal day, ask no
better leader if we are destined to form another " forlorn
hope." Some of the convalescents came up to guard an
ammunition train, expecting to return the next day, but
they find themselves in for the remainder of the campaign. Night and day have Ordnance-Sergeants Cowles
and Hulet gone with wagons to Baton Rouge, running
the gantlet of guerrillas. They are safe as yet, but it is
quite probable that death or imprisonment will prevent
their returning with us to Berkshire. Those trips have
none of the excitement of the battle-field, but are accompanied with danger and suspense, very far from
being agreeable.
Mules and darkeys are so abundant that nearly every
man rides and keeps his waiter. Dave takes care of
lMr. Brewster's horse, and has a contraband to do the
work for him. Several wait on our department, and as
we are as lazy as those "to the manner born," it is in
perfect harmony to have your coffee brought to you
before rising. Food, with a little tobacco, is considered
by them an ample equivalent for their services. A
recent order commanding the turning over of mules and
contrabands to Colonel Hodge will throw us back on our
own dignity and muscles, or lead to explorations of the
adjacent plantations. An army is a great cormorant.
We have swallowed up all the green corn for fodder, and rails are becoming as scarce as Union men in
Charleston.
Nearly every evening Uncle Sam gets up on the left,
for our benefit, a pyrotechnic display, that puts to shame
every former specimen of that art we have ever seen.
Sitting on the top of the earthworks that conceal and protect our batteries, we spend many of our evening hours
watching the course and bursting of the shells. At night
we can see the path of a shell through all its journey,




318         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
lighted as it is by the burning faze. When the range is
two miles, the track of a shell from a mortar describes
very nearly half the are of a circle. On leaving the mor
tar it gracefully moves on, climbing up and up into the
heavens till it is quite a mile above the earth, and then it
glides along for a moment apparently in a horizontal line;
but quickly you see that the little fiery orb is on the home
stretch, describing the other segment of the circle. A
shell from a mortar will travel two miles in thirty seconds,
and from a Parrott gun in half that time. The flash of
the gun at night, and the white smoke by day, indicate
the moment of discharge, giving from ten to twenty
seconds t(, seek shelter.  Though occasionally driven
from our posts of observation by stray bullets, we return
to gaze on the fascinating scene. The other evening there
was a large fire in rebeldom, which drew a number of
Holcomb's nlen to the walls, when they were greeted by
the balls of the rebels, sending some to the hospital and
some to the burial.
R. H. Wilcox, whose Testament saved his life at the
battle of Plain's Store, has been less fortunate here,
having received a bullet in the fleshy part of his leg
Binding the sacred word on our hearts is Scriptural, and
Wilcox obeyed that; but this time the rebels aimed
lower, so the good fellow will have to limp for a few days,
regretting that the Bible Society did not give him more
than one shield. On picket, one man is detailed to spend
two hours up a tree, and then he must needs report to
Colonel Paine. Billy Hogan, a waggish Irishman, of
Company H, spent his two hours in the tree, and on coming down went to sleep. The officer of the picket waked
him, asking, " Have you made your report, yet?"
"Report, is it! and sure I saw nothing to report."
"No matter about that," said the officer, "go and report to Colonel Paine;" and Billy drew up before headquarters in the position  of the soldier, saluting the
Colonel, and told him his business.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           319
"Well, go ahead, report!" gruffly responded the Acting
Brigadier.
" Well, sir, I was over in the tree fornenst and I saw,
I saxv, sir, two birds fly into the fort, and soon after, I
saw two fly out. I think, sir, the two that flew out were
pigeons, and I am not certain, sir, that the two that flew
in -were pigeons or hawks, but I think they was hawks."
You need not make any further report, said his excellency, and Billy left him. He often says, "By jabers!
they didn't report any more from that tree."  To see and
hear Billy describe this scene would drive the blues and
dyspepsia from you for one long day at least.
The rebels are gathering in large force near Donaldsonville, and have made considerable progress. On the 28th
ult., they attacked Fort Butler near that village in overpowering numbers, but were gallantly repulsed by the
small garrison, even the sick lending their feeble help.
It was one of the most heroic actions of the war, and resulted in the killing, wounding, and capturing of twice as
many rebels as there were soldiers in the fort. The
appearance of two gunboats effectually secured us the
victory. Unless we take Port Hudson soon, these men
under General Taylor will appear at our rear, and compel
the abandonment of the siege. The Lafourche and Teche
countries are full of gathering foes. Some sneered at
Banks's generalship, asking  why overrun the Teche
country only to leave it? Suppose he had allowed General Taylor to remain there undisturbed, how could we
have invested Port Hudson?  Banks's generalship is that
of genius and common sense united.
I close this with a list of those who have died away
from the scene of strife.
George W. Babbitt (B), aged thirty-one years, a
firmer from New Ashford, died of heart disease at the
General Hospital, Baton Rouge, June 18th. He was an
intelligent man, and, understanding the duties of a soldier,
performed them well.




'3 20       LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
George Campbell (K), aged eighteen years, from Mount
Washington, died of diarrhcea at Baton Rouge, June 19th.
Hle leaves a brother in Company E. George was too
weak to do all the duties of a soldier, but he was a steady,
pleasant, willing boy.
Thomas Mallaly (E), a farmer boy from  Egremont,
died in New Orleans, June 26th, aged eighteen years. I
know not the cause of his death, nor aught concerning
him as a man or soldier.
W. Joyner (A), a stone-cutter from  Savoy, aged
eighteen years, died of diarrhiea at Baton Rouge, June
30th. As he was sick much, he had not the opportunity
to win distinction as a soldier.
William W. Stowell (C), was a farmer lad from Peru.
Early on reaching Secessia, diarrhcea claimed him for a
victim, and clung to its prey till death released him at
Baton Rouge, June 30th. A fine steady lad he was,
willing to do what his strength would permit. He only
wanted health and strength to prove,. as many of our
living and our dead have proved, that on our battlefields the farmer boys of Berkshire are worthy sons of
noble sires. His long, weary struggle with the great
enemy is ended, and he sleeps with his brother soldiers,
who, like him, fought back disease, that they might die
at home.  A mother's care was not his solace, but amid
comrades, too sick to think of aught but themselves, he
closed the weary round of life.
Charles Videtto (A), died of quick consumption, at the
camp in Baton Rouge, July 6th. His Captain says, "he
was one of the nicest of boys," (he had seen but eighteen
years,) "and one of my best soldiers."  Charlie was very
popu.lar with his comrades, and steady and reliable.
How many mothers and sisters in Berkshire are anxiously
awaiting f6r their Charlies to come, knowing not that
brother soldiers have laid their remains in distant graves.
Who can tell the anxiety, the hopes battling with fears,
of our homes. Some who expect to see no more their




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.                    321.
Charlie are to be joyously disappointed, while about
others, who are now full of hope, a great darkness is
gathering.
"Charlie has come I
Who says that the times are weary,
That the graves of our fallen ones,
Cast a shadow deep and dreary,
Around our Bearts and homes?
The sunshine floating round us
Makes e'en the shadows bright;
We cannot dream of sorrow,
For Charlie came last night.
"Charlie has come I
Has come from the field of battle,
Where death-bolts quickly fly,
Led by a mighty Sovereign,
Who heeds a sparrow's cry.
One noble arm is shattered,
A deep scar seams the brow;
We loved our Charlie always,
But we adore him now.
We fain would praise the blessed,
But our lips with joy are dumb I
God pity.the mothers and sisters
W7iose Charlies never come I"
14*




322         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XXXII.
CAMP BAEKS, BATON ROUGE, LA., July 13, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
Glory! Hallelujah! Amen! Port Hudson is ours,
and the Mississippi is open. The Confederacy is split in
two; the backbone of the rebellion is broken; Secessia
generally is in a squeamish condition. Hunger, not assault, finished the work, after forty-six days' siege. On
the morning of the 7th, the fleets above and below
opened a joyous fire; cheers began on the right and
rolled in increasing volume to the centre, telling us that
on the glorious 4th, General Grant victoriously entered
Vicksburg. Billows of rejoicing surged to and fro over
our whole army, awakening the curiosity of the rebels,
who refused to believe our report, till General Banks,
complying with the request of General Gardner, sent in,
on the morning of the 8th, an official copy of Grant's
dispatch, which informed them that.Vicksburg, and
31,000 prisoners, 19 generals, 60,000 new English rifled
muskets, besides many pieces of artillery and considerable ammunition, had fallen into our hands. On learning
this, Gardner asked in vain for twenty-four hours' cessation of hostilities, and then requested the appointment of
commissioners to arrange the termseof the unconditional
surrender. This was granted, and by the middle of that
afternoon, the matter was settled. The men, but not the
officers, are to be paroled. The commissioners met outside
of the parapet, under the fly of a tent, and several hampers of sparkling Bordeaux kept them in good spirits.
A basket was sent to General Gardner within the fort,
containing such refreshments as rumor said were not
plentiful in that beleaguered place.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         3 23
Notwithstanding our troops did not formally enter the
place on the 8th inst., yet the garrison fully understood
that they were to be surrendered, and accordingly they
came over the parapet in large numbers to converse with
our men. All along the right and centre crowds of them
gathered without the works to converse with and see the
persevering Yankees, who had at last forced them to
surrender.
They examined with the deepest curiosity the guns our
men had, and their ammunition, which they averred they
1had feared much more than the artillery brought to
bear against them. Now and then they would seek out
a particular stump or log front which they had been
worried by our sharpshooters. "This cussed hole,"
said a keen-eyed, roughly dressed hunter from the wilds
of Arkansas, "I have been aiming at for the last two
weeks, to split the Yankee's head who was always peeping out of it." Somebody. had quite evidently been
watching that hole rather closely, for the two logs, which
were a little apart, and formed the aperture, were riddled
with bullets.
They were not aware that the place was to be surrendered until after it was known by our own men. They
allowed that it was better to be well fed and prisoners,
than to hold out and starve. Several of the soldiers
went within the rebel works on the first day. This was
not prohibited. Those who went in returned with numerous trophies of their visit, such as blankets, canteens,
belts with the Confederate States plate upon them, pistols
and the like. One beverage was served out with the
utmost freedom by the garrison, as they had it in large
quantities. It was a light beer made from corn, and
really much more palatable than the river water.
Quite early in the morning preparations were made for
the ceremony, at which all seemed deeply gratified.
It may be said, with truthfulness, that all were really
gratified at the state of affairs. Certainly our own men




8324        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
were, who had so triumphantly ended a vigorous and
shrewdly planned camp:lign. The half famished, dilapidated-looking rebels most certainly were, for they never gave
heartier cheers than when told by General Beale and
Colonel Miles that soon they should see their homes.
They appeared deeply interested in the ceremony of
surrender, which was conducted by Brigadier-General
Andrew, General Banks's chief of staff. The spot chosen
for the ceremony was an open area, near the flag-staff,
opposite the centre of the river batteries, and very near
the bank.
Along the main street the soldiers composing the garrison were drawn up in line, having all their personal
baggage, arms, and equipments with them.
General Gardner and staff, with a numerous escort,
occupied a position at the right of the line.
By 7 o'clock our troops marched into the works, headed
by the brigade which had volunteered, a thousand strong,
to storm the place in the next assault. Colonel Birge, of
the 13th Connecticut regiment, was in command of this
storming party. It was fitting that they should lead the
way with the flag of bloodless victory, who had volunteered to do so with bayonet and sabre. Artillery closed
in with the infantry, and as the grand cort6ge swept
through the broad streets of Port Hudson, with the
grand old national airs for the first time in many months
breaking the morning stillness, the scene was most impressive and soul-stirring.  Never did music sound
sweeter, never did men march with lighter step, or greater
rejoicing, than our troops, as they came into the place
which had cost the lives of many of their gallant comrades. All the sorrow for their losses, and all the joy
for their present victory, came to the mind at once. But
every private bereavement was instantly forgotten in the
nation's great gain, and every man justly seemed proud
to have had a part in one of the greatest triumphs of the
war.




NMASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          3 2 5
Passing directly across from the breast-works on the
land side to the river batteries, the column then marched
by the right flank, and afterwards halted and fronted opposite the rebel line. General Andrew and staff then
rode up to receive the sword of the rebel commander.
It was proferred to General Andrew by General Gardner,
with the brief words: "tHaving thoroughly defended
this position as long as I deemed it necessary, I now surrender to you my sword, and with it this post and its
garrison."
To which General Andrew replied: " I return your sword
as a proper compliment to the gallant commander of such
gallant troops-conduct that would be heroic in anothei
cause."
To which General Gardner replied, as he returned his
sword, with emphasis, into the scabbard: " This is neither
time nor place to discuss the cause."
The men then grounded' their arms, not being able to
stack them, since hardly one in ten of their pieces had a
bayonet attached. They were mostly very rusty and of
old style. Quite a number of the old Queen Bess pattern
were included among them, having a bore half as large
again as the ordinary musket.  Most of the cartridge
boxes were well filled, but the scarcity of percussion-caps
was universal.
An officer of the garrison, in explanation of this fact,
remarked, that this very scarcity of caps was the reason
that the men were allowed to cease firing on the right
and left for several days.
The number of men surrendered is over five thousand.
Of these nearly four thousand are ready for duty. The
remainder are' in the hospital from sickness or wounds.
There were six thousand stand of arms, with full equipmnents.
The troops are some of the best in the Confederate
service; many of them were at Fort Donelson, and all
have been at Port Hudson since the battle of Baton Rouge.




326         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINT'H
At the time of the battle of the Plains there were 6,113
men in the fort. Since that time the loss has been 610 in
killed and wounded. Our men who were in the place
numbered about fifty, and the rebels say they had every
facility for escape.  Many officers owned fine horses.
Among them, Colonel Stone, of the 48th Massachusetts,
recognized two which he had lost in the battle of the
Plains.
The works about this famous strong-hold are not-of
such a complicated nature as many have supposed, nor
yet are they ineffective on account of their simplicity.
The principal defences are on the river side.
They comprise seventeen separate embrasures, mostly
built in an arc of a circle. They are finely revetted, and
command'all the approaches by way of the river. In
three of them pivot guns were mounted, which were used
-,oth for front and rear. Two magazines are above ground,
one in the rear of a battery of eight and ten inch guns,
ncd below the flag-staff, which is raised in the centre of
the works on the river front. The rest of the magazines
are under ground.
The land breast-works are built in the ordinary manner
on the outer side. They extend in a semicircular direction from river to river, for a distance of nearly seven
miles.
Inside they have a narrow ditch, with small caves dug
out from it in which the men slept and sheltered themselves from our fire. On the southern extremity they are
very well built, but on the northern end they were not
built until the recent investment, and hence are nothing
but rifle-pits.
There are a few houses, a church, two or three stores and
shops, and a livery-stable, and these originally constituted
the town of Port Hudson.
These buildings are close up to the river batteries,
separated from them by a broad street. The hospitals
were in ravines. Every thing witlhia the works bears




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.            327
ample proof of the terrific bombardment the place has
suffered.
Great trees lie across the roads and in the area, felled
by solid shot and shell, buildings are riddled with round
shot, dead animals fill the air about some of the ravines
with a horrid effiuvia, while shot and fiagments of shell
are strewn everywhere.
The Confederate officers report that all our artillery fire
has not killed more than twenty-five men. " One good
rifle, I considered equal to ten pieces of artillery," said
an artillery officer in commenting upon the effect of our
fire.
On speaking of the fight on the 27th, an officer said
that when the attack was made so vigorously on Weitzel's front, they hll thought that their game was up. But
observing no similar movement along other parts of our
line, they moved up eleven pieces of artillery and two
large battalions of their best troops, so that they were
able to offer effectual resistance in that quarter. These
movements were seen by our men at the time.
After the ceremony was over, General Weitzel was
presented with a fine chestnut stallion by a rebel officer
who was formerlv his pupil at West Point.
The General had several classmates and pupils among
the officers of the garrison, and they all seemed glad to
revive the days long gone by, when they enjoyed that
union of hearts and hands which a strange fanaticism has
now severed.
And not only between a few classmates, but between
whole regiments, on the day of the surrender, there was
a constant interchange of good feeling. Perhaps they
have crossed bayopets for the last time. That is not certain. But no fears for the future seemed to trouble these
heroes of many battles, as they talked of the scenes in
which they all had borne a part.  Ere this day closed,
many hearts were knit together in friendly bonds, which
a few hours before were severed by the deepest enmity.




328         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
On the night of the 8th, General Banks sent in a liberal
supply of provisions for the garrison, and early the next
morning they enjoyed the first good meal they had partaken of for a long time. On the 29th of June, they
issued their last quarter-ration of beef. On the 1st of
July, some officers partook of a dish of mule meat, which
they say, has a flavor between beef and venison. Horses
were found to be good eating, though inferior to mules.
Rats were eaten, and declared better than spring chickens. We had fired their mills, so they could not grind the
few ears of corn left. They had plenty of peas, but starving men could not use them, so, to save the corn, they
fed their horses and mules on the peas, by which many
were killed. At the time of the surrender they had
eaten their last mule.
Port Hudson is a natural fortification, in which one man
should keep at bay ten men assaulting fiom without. It
is one net-work of ditches and ravines. The ground is
strewed with such hardware as we poured into it for two
months from the 8th of May, when the fleet commenced
the bombardment. The ravages made by shells is fearful.
Houses are gutted and mammoth trees broken off. In
roads hardened by years of travel, you call see caverns
twelve or fifteen feet deep, wider and larger than ordinary cellars. One of these descending thunderbolts
struck' an  artillerist about the neck, and drove him
through the wooden floor of the battery into the ground
beneath, leaving only his feet sticking out. Another
killed three men, and soon after their burial still another
burst in the cemetery and exploded among their coffins.
One afternoon a shell exploded in the river, causing
seventy or eighty fishes to rise to the surface completely
stunned. The rebs put out after them, many of which
were the largest sized catfishes. Ten pounds is called a
small fish, so that was a lucky shell for them. Many of our
projectiles would strike the trees laterally instead of with
their percussion-caps, and consequently failed to explode.




MfASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           829
Grant is sending troops here from Vicksburg, and
many regiments have gone down to Donaldsonville to
drive back Taylor and his horde. The Forty-ninth went
on Friday night, the 10th inst. This place, it is said, is
to be garrisoned with negro troops.
We now bid farewell to Port Hudson, with its fields of
blood and graves of our comrades. When peace, of
which this surrender is a speedy precursor, shall settle on
the sunny South, it will be a proud, yet sad pleasure to
revisit that place, and roam over Slaughter's field, and
rest by what remains of the burial-places of our brother
soldiers. Though we think of the slain, and of the hopes
interred with them, we can but be jubilant. We are
victors, and mingling with our shouts are the hosannas
from the gory field of Gettysburg, telling that the God
of battles has at last crowned the merited valor of the
Army of the Potomac, with victory. This has been a
grand year. It was commenced ri ght. We put God and
humanity on our side and have gone on from triumph to
triumph. The 4th of July has been resurrected. Again
its inspired truths, all undiluted, fall from  the lips of
America on the ears of an expectant world. The world's
sympathies answer in prayers for our success.  1863 is
proving its kindredship to 1776. The child is nobler than
the parent. The glory of the latter day is above that of
the former. We are interpreting the Declaration of
Independence, so that mankind, fearing or hoping, believe
that " God hath created all men free and equal." The
sun of victory, so gilding our graves that the glory hides
the grief, reveals to the world that our flag is the standard
of freedom, imbued with power from on high to wave
triumphantly over every foe.  Despairing patriots dash
away their tears, and exultingly exclaim, "Liberty is
man's birthright; tyrants have no divine right to rule;
man is capable of self government."




330          LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
"The dwellers in the vales and on the ropks
Shout to each other, and the mountain tops,
From distant mountains, catch the flying joy;
Till nation after nation taught the strain,
Earth rolls the rapturous hosanna round."
It is fitting that black hands should hold Port Hudson.
There, those hands signed the charter of the freedom of
their race. In the future of the Africans, as Ethiopia, who
has so long stretched out her manacled hands to God, outrivals the splendor of Egypt and Carthage, gifted orators
will kindle a nation's patriotism by allusions to Port Hudson, even as we gather inspiration from the recollections of
Bunker Hill. The American eagle now watches her shores,
that no vessels enter her harbors, save those freighted
with the blessings of civilization, or with the missionaries
of the Gospel of Christ.  Africa, who has so long had her
Calvary, now sees an angel at the grave of her former
renown, rolling away the stone, and preparing her for the
joy and glory of the resurrection.  Blood, all powerful
blood, purifies and prepares for greatness.  The beginning of the ransom price has been paid, and in that purer
light, revealing God's future to our "fallen brave," they
see no shame, but only high honor in having fought, not
only for their country, but also for the rejected negro.
Could they speak to loving friends, they would say, " Let
our bodies lie on the field of our renown, and let the guardians of our remains be the unfettered children of them
whose fathers Iningled their blood with ours, and thus
bought the propitiation of our national sin and the freedom
of their race. Loving, sad, perchance disconsolate memories gather rounid the graves of the comrades we are
leaving; but the time will come when the possessors of
such memories will proudly claim to be the aristocracy of
our land.  Children, now too young to know aught but
that'" father" will never return to them, will walk more
erectly through the splendor and purity of our future, as




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          331
they recognize that that splendor is based on their
father's graves.
Since my return to this place, I have attended negro
meetings. They were jubilant meetings. Old hunkers
might have thought that politics had entered into and
vitiated their religion, but they felt that the Gospel really
means, "glad tidings of great joy which shall be unto all
people." From pulpits where they had often submissively, despairingly, heard the old refrain, "Servants!
obey your masters;" rang out the grand truths of man's
equality, which were answered by shouts and tears of joy.
Now, they feel that they are safe, and proudly recognize
that negro valor materially aided in the purchase of that
safety. Respectful to them who " knew that Port Hudson could never be taken," and who had often threatened
them with vengeance, when Southern bravery had scattered our armies to the wind, yet they firmly and openly
consecrate themselves to our service, and in their sanetuary, take up the mingled song of piety and joy, as did
the Israelites when God had led them through the Red Sea.
" The enemy said, I will pursue, I will overtake, I will
divide the spoil; my lust shall be satisfied upon them; I
will draw my sword, my hand shall destroy them. Thou
stretchedst out thy right hand, the earth swallowed them.
Thou, in thy mercy, hast led forth the people which thou
hast redeemed. Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider hath he
thrown into the sea.
Soon we come home, and may meet those cradled in
the shadow of Bunker Hill, who will call all this only
the outpourings of a fanatical heart; but if this letter
shall be reaJl fifty years from now, the only surprise and
mortification will be that, ever, any of the sons of
Massachusetts were so untrue to their ancestry as to
fail in doing all they could to make our hopes the world's
fruition. If nothing more, we have gained the right to'
boldly speak of Freedom. The war is not yet over, and




382           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
the'hungry  cemeteries will swallow  up more of our
brothers and bons, but we are moving on to a peace
in which we may abide. Fresh demands on our patriotism  will be made; and we can make them, being
assured that we or our race shall receive therefor a
hundred-fold. We have fallen on grand times. The
days of heroism, of Christian chivalry, have returned.
"We are living, we are dwelling
In a grand and awful time I
IhI an age on ages telling,
To be living is sublime I
"Will ye play, then, will ye dally
With your music and your wine?
Up I It is Jehovah's rally I
God's own arm hath need of thine I!
" Worlds are charging, heaven beholding,
Thou hast but an hour to fight;
Now the blazoned cross unfolding,
On, right onward, for the right I
"On I let all the soul within you,
For the truth's sake go abroad;
Strike I let every nerve and sinew
Tell on ages, tell for God I"
Samuel tI. Rossiter (B), died at the hospital in this
place July 9th. He was severely wounded in the lungs
in the first charge at Port Hudson.  For a while we
indulged the fond hope of his recovery. Though only a
corporal, he was qualified for, and worthy of a high
position. The man, the Christian, in him was so noble
tht rank would have been but gilding gold. Tall in
stature, be was taller in worth; and, in our estimation, a
purer, better soldier never enlisted. Duty led him to
the field: " What does duty require at my hand?" was
his life-question.  There were but three sons in his
father's house.  Two of them  joined the Forty-ninth.
Samuel felt that then he must enlist. His country




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          333
needed his services, and he wanted to watch over his
younger brothers. He saw the bright, genial Willie laid
in his lonely grave at Carrollton, and for months the other
brother has been fighting a doubtful battle with disease.
Really unable to travel, he yet marched with us to Port
Hudson. Advised, almost commanded to remain behind,
yet he went. Duty called him, and that was enough.
A part of our terribly-shattered left, he charged on the
foe, and there received his death-wound. On coming
from the field, I saw him walking towards the hospital,
supported by two of his comrades, and thought he was
one of the " slightly wounded." He was conveyed to
the hospital at Baton Rouge, where his remaining brother
lay sick. The love his fellow-soldiers bore him secured
for him especial attention. He met his death as a
Christian. I saw him a few days before he died, when
the wound had recommenced bleeding. A sweet smile,
mingled with the look of pain, assured me that for him
death had no terrors. A disarmed conqueror was approaching.  It was a sad scene.  Willie was gone,
Abraham was sick, and he was dying. Perchance the
old homestead was to be desolate indeed, and the aged
parents were to go down to the grave with no sons to
lean upon. I was glad then, that before going he had
married the woman of his affections. A stranger, I had
no right to intermeddle with that grief; but I prized for
her the melancholy pleasure of a sorrow that would be
respected. As his weeping comrades gathered about
his death-bed, he said, " Mourn not. I shall be home in
a few moments;" and, in his twenty-seventh year, he was
not, for God took him. Placed in a decent coffin, he
was followed to his grave by a long procession. No
regiment is privileged to boast of many Samuel Rossiters. Cheerful and amiable, he was also an earnest
Christian. Richmond, in temporal and spiritual affairs,
will long miss him. Though young, even God's people
had learned to lean and rely on him. He is dead!




334         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Home, the church, the Sunday-school, his company will
greet him no more, nor receive from him  the genial
smile. We mourn him, yet are richer in his death than
in the lives of many. He was one of the untitled brave,
a Christian man. It is superfluous to say he was one of
our best soldiers. Duty, though ever so dangerous or
repugnant, he never shunned.  A wealth of precious
memories gather round his life and death. "Faithful
unto death, he has received the crown of life."  May
we imitate him. God and our country will then say,
"' Well done!"




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         335
LETTER XXXIII.
DONALDSONVILLE, July 20, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
On Friday morning following the surrender of Port
Hudson, we'reached this place, which was once one of
some beauty and importance, but now it is war-wrecked.
That same day our brigade went up the river about five
miles, on a reconnoissance, arresting all overseers and
such persons as would be likely to give us information
of the strength and whereabouts of the enemy. On the
following Sunday, with the 2d Louisiana, we went up
to McCall's plantation, about three miles -distant, and
secured a boat-load of corn.  Our associates, the Second Louisiana, well acquainted with the neighborhood,
pilfered a considerable quantity of jewelry.
On the morning of the 13th several brigades marched
along the Bayou La Fourche into the interior. It is a
beautiful and rich country. We proceeded on the upper
side of the Bayou fo.r three miles, and then bivouacked
and dined. It was the hottest; sultriest day we had experienced in Louisiana. After dinner, we went down the
Bayou, on the other side of which there was some firing and
much confusion. We jumped on the levee to survey the
scene, but the blasphemous commands of Colonel Paine
drove us down. Horses, teams, ambulances, fugitives,
passed by as rapidly as fear could move them, ejaculating,
"The rebs! the rebs!"  Our friends across the Bayou
were evidently flanked, and retreating, as best they could,
before a superior force. Soon, the battery accompanying
our brigade opened fire, telling us that the enemy was
not confined to the other side of the stream. We were
drawn up in battle line on a road running from the




S3 36       LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
B:<you, and thence our regiment was sent diagonally
through a cane-field. Co. C. was thrown out as skirmishers, and found that, instead of a friendly battery,
located at an adjacent sugar-house, there was a large
collection of rebels, mounted and on foot. While making these movements we could hear the roar of artillery, the rushing tramp of many fugitives, while around
us bullets were flying with: much disregard of life and
limb. Througrh the rows of cane could be' seen squads
of enemies, how many we could not tell, save that they
were on three sides of us. Amid all the confusion, only
one thing was certain, we were flanked on nearly every
hand. There we were alone, and of our own regiment
we could see but few at a time, as it was impossible to
keep a good line. We returned the fire as best we could
till ordered to fall back to the road. There we found
that our brigade had fallen back to the Bayou road, and
crossing the fence, we formed three times, when AdjutantGeneral Webber ordered us to retreat. This we did for
some rods, when we again formed a line, and, for a short
distance, fell back in tolerable order. In the mean time,
tihe enemy was pressing yet closer on our lone regiment
and! pouring scattered volleys into our ranks. The road
on either side of the Bayou was crowded with fugitives,
and we were convinced that we could do nothing but
secure our own safety. When the final order to retreat
came, every man started for the river. Confusion became worse confounded. Every attempt to keep ill line
failed, and in squads or alone, we pressed to the rear. It
was a day of utter exhaustion. Pressing through corn
ten feet high, the sun pouring down on us, unable to
catch a mouthful of air, was bad enough, but we found
scratching our way through the cane-fields tenfold worse.
Cane grows about seven feet high, and is planted, not
like corn, in hills, but in rows, presenting, when grown,
an almost impenetrable jungle. Four miles, measured
by rods, forty, as computed by discomfort and fatigue,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          337
passed over and we reached the river, some near the fort.
at Donaldsonville and the rest scattered over miles.
Bradley (F), was killed, Adjutant Francis wounded in
the leg, many were slightly wounded, some sun-struck,
and not a few are recorded as "'missing."  Whether
they are prisoners, or lying in some of the deep ditches
that surround and intersect those large fields, we know not.
It was a sad day. Surprised and flanked, we could do
nothing but retreat. I do not know that any one was to
blame. Dudley's brigade had felt the ground but the
day before, and found but few enemies. We have since
learned the foe was a part of General Taylor's army,
gathered in Western Louisiana and Texas, some 12,000
strong, for the relief of Port Hudson. Since the fight, we
have heard nothing of them, save that they captured
Brashear City, with most of its defenders, and destroyed
a vast quantity of stores, which the sudden appearance of a
part of our army prevented them from removing. Considering all the circumstances, the Forty-ninth did well. For
coolness, for obedience of orders, for forming again and
again when left alone, they deserve much credit. That
officers got separated from their men, and that nearly all
returned in utter confusion, might be expected as the
result of being flanked on all sides in a strange country,
and was unavoidable when retreating through the luKuriant cane and corn-fields of the La Fourche country. Great
credit is given to Chaffee, Sissons, and Dresser for coolness,
and steadiness in managing and keeping together their
men. I mention them especially because, though they did
well in the battle of June 14th, they, being absent firom the
field of May 27th, had not before had an opportunity to
show their command over men, when personal influence
was nearly every thing. They are earnest lovers of Freedom. Had they flinched, they would have been the first
recreants of that class in the Forty-ninth.
Since the battle, we have had nothing more exciting
than picket duty, unenlivened by the presence of a foe.
] 1




338        LIFE WIT-Hi THE FORTY-NINTH
We are encamped in an open field, and to the discomforts
of actual war we have now superadded the monotony of
camp life. The continued mugginess of the weather has
quickened mosquitos into life, and having no other enemy
to fight, we battle with t/em, wondering why we are not
sent home,,thereby comforting us and relieving Uncle
Sam of the expense of our maintenance. The camp at
Baton Rouge is characterized by a dreary monotony, and
a heat even worse than that that assails our boys at Donaldsonville, for they do get an occasional breeze fiom off
the river. Our sick are failing rapidly. "Hope deferred
maketh the heart sick." About the only question of interest is; " When will we start for home?" and how-by
sea or up the river? Curiosity desires the latter, health
the former.
Our total loss on the 13th inst. stands, one killed, five
wounded, and sixteen missing. Among the latter are
some of our very best soldiers. Where are they? we
often ask with painful solicitude.
Alone among the dead stands the name of Edward R.
Bradley (F), of Stockbridge. He was a farmer, and
twenty-seven years of age. He leaves parents and wife
to mourn him. We might have lost scores, whose united
loss would have been less of a calamity than that of him
who lies here in the lonely grave where his comrades
buried him. He was an educated Christian soldier.
"Death loves a shining mark."  He found that mark in
Edward R. Bradley. At home, he was known as the
beloved son, the affectionate husband, the friend of the
poor, the earnest member of the church of Christ. In
the army, we knew him as a soldier ever faithful, one to
be relied on in camp or in field-one who everywhere
showed that he was " not ashamed of the gospel of Christ."
Oh, for legions of just such men! He wore the armor of
his country; beneath. that, he was clothed in the panoply
of'God. Richer blood has not dyed this soil. Earthly
home will know him no more forever. " In my Father's




MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEERS.         339
house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for
you, that where 1 am there ye may be also." From the
field of strife, fighting for God and Freedom, he has been
ushered into those mansions. The Prince of Peace has
received him, and, resting on Hiis bosom, he sees how his
dying blood was necessary to that hour when wars and
rumors of war shall forever cease. We leave him alone
-with his glory.
Samuel G. Noble (A), aged twenty-three years, clerk
from Pittsfield, died in the hospital at Baton Rouge, of
congestive fever, on the 14th inst. Illy prepared were
we to hear this sad news. Young Noble looked so well
and fleshy but a few days before, that we had no doubts
but that he would be one of those who should soon return
to glad expectant hearts. Even in the freshness of sorrow, those hearts will be comforted by knowing that
" their loss is his eternal gain."  I knew him well, and
never saw or heard any thing inconsistent with his Chris.
tian profession. His happy face carried sunshine with
him, and no doubt comforted many of the sick and
wounded with whom his duties, as a member of the ambulance corps, brought him in contact.. That face was
but the exponent of a kind heart and genial spirit, which
led him to easily win the love and esteem of his comrades.
Carefully tended, death met him, and we leave his grave
to the care of strangers, believing that the All-Father has
received him into his home.
David Winchell (I), aged nineteen years, of Lanesboro',
was drowned in the Mississippi River, while bathing, on
the 15th inst. He could not swim, and getting beyond
his depth, where there was none to help him, found his
last battle-field in the treacherous waters. His body was
recovered and decently interred. He was a genial, kind
boy, prompt and efficient as a soldier, and as a comrade
liked by all. His captain places him among the very
best of his company. The brave-hearted lad joined the
"forlorn hope" of May 27th, but, by his company being




840         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
ordered to the rear before that battle commenced, he was
not allowed to share its danger and its glory. He was
an only son. Spared by shot and shell, the river, opened
to the world by his toil and exposure, folded him in the
embrace of death, and by its banks the daily expected
son sleeps his last sleep. There will be weary waiting for
him.
Artemus R. Comstock (D), aged nineteen years, a farmer boy from Barrington, died on the 18th inst., at Baton
Rouge, after a long illness of diarrhcea. A fine boy he
was, and while well a faithful soldier. He came from a
good stock, and was much of a favorite with officers and
men. When I say he was considered one of the most
likely of Company D, I use strong language, for that is
a company to belong to which any man might' well be
proud. The lad, with his high hopes, his patriotic aspirations, now sleeps in a Southern grave. We will soon
leave it, but will carry with us the recollections of the
many virtues of our buried comrade.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         341
LETT-ER XXXIV.
CAMP BANKS, BATON ROUGE, LA., |
August 2, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
Yesterday, about sundown, the regiment returned to
camp, after a campaign of seventy-three days. We have
seen more real war-work than some regiments who have
been years in the service. Eventful days were they.
Looking back over them, remembering our slain and
wounded, we claim the right to be called " veterans," and
mournfully smile at our prophecy that the Forty-ninth
would return home an untried regiment. We have been
tried, and not found wanting. Seventy-three such days
try soul and body, and give us an experience and crowd
us with such memories that we will never feel as young
again as before. Living on the verge of the grave, becoming conversant with wounds and death,-years were
packed in that period.  Crowded with exposures and
privations, darkened with a cloud that all the brightness
of victory cannot fully dispel-a cloud that thickens as
we think of the sad hour, when expectant friends, through
tear-blinded eyes, shall behold ominous gaps in ranks,
where once, in the pride of manly strength stood their
loved ones, we will ever remember that campaign as the
brightest and saddest part of our lives. Stepping into
the glory of our country's future, made possible by our
success, the sadness will depart, and we will reverently
thank God for having vouchsafed strength and courage
to do our duty, that our deeds might be a portion of the
nation's wealth, of the world's pride. Little matters it
that our names will be forgotten. Happy we, lured by
no meed of fame, to have advanced the world one step




342         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
nearer to its heavenly bridegroom!  Enfranchised humanity, ever mounting higher, will often pause to render
thanks to the "unnamed demi-gods," on whose toils and
sufferings and deaths, the grand temple of universal freedom was based. God has a purpose in this war, and
when, hastened by it, heaven and earth shall vibrate to
the jubilant strain,'"Hallelujah! the Kingdoms of this
world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his
Christ," " honor shall be given to whom honor is due."
Do you call this egotism? Be it so, though I speak
of myself as only one of the multitude; yet, personally,
I am prouder of the last seventy-three days than of any
other part of my existence, and of my pride no one shall
bereave me. It is worth much to meet friends again,
conscious that for them you took your life in your hands,
and, as their representative, stood in the valley of death.
It is yet true, "' all that a man hath will he give for his
life." Duty, at home, seemed so safe and conducive to
prosperity, that many knew not it was the outworking
of a higher power; duty done, where death barred the
way, and where, in doing it, life was to be valued only
as an empty bubble, reaches man's heart and brings him
to realize that there is something stronger, sweeter, than
the love of life. To count myself out in speaking of our
just pride, would be only an affectation of humility you
would despise. That I might not be counted out in the
joyous consciousness of having done something to advance the wotld's best interests, I left home, friends, all;
and now, danger past, as I think of returning to home
and loved ones, I magnify the grace that enabled me to
do my duty.
Proudly we will return. Rich are they who have garments torn by shot and shell; yet richer they who bear
in their bodies, honorable, but not disabling or disfiguring
scars. The former will cherish their mementos of this
campaign, even as war-tattered banners are cherished,
and from the fringed bullet edges, impress on the rising




MASSACIHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.        343
race, lessons of patriotism; while from the latter, much
gold could not purchase the sacred evidences of their
fealty to God and Freedom. Some will bear through life
heavy mortgages on future independence. Such might
have been their fate had they remained at home; and
between being crippled in fighting for money and fighting for a nation's glory, there is an infinite difference.
Come back how we may, it will be with an increased
self-respect, an increased claim on the respect of others,
that will cause many to mourn that they selfishly
absented themselves fi om the post of duty and of honor.
The time is coming when posterity will summon such to
its bar, and demand why they allowed others to beat
back, unhelped by them, the waves that would have
desolated all. If they stand without excuse, the honors
of the future will not be for them. Returned soldiers
will have the ears of the young for the next thirty years.
Whatever else they may teach, they will certainly teach
that to the defenders of the land belong its honors and
emoluments. Even the dissipated return with joy, believing that their baptism of fire has purified their record,
and will enable them to start afresh in the pursuit of respect and prosperity.
Nothing of interest transpired at Donaldsonville, after
the date of my last letter. Picket duty, a daily drill of
an hour, fighting bugs and mosquitos, sweating in the
sun. by day, absorbing fever at night, watching the passing boats, and wondering when we would.leave for home,
is a summary of our last weeks at that God-forsaken
place.  There was nearly as much of disagreeable
monotony here. When will the regiment return? was
the great question. Of course, that must antedate starting for home.  Some little excitement was created by
ordering the light-duty men down the river, awakening
the fear that the authorities intend to hold us till the 19th
of August.  This is now the report, and it comes so
straight that we fear it is true. The Major has gone to




344         LIFE WITH THE FOITY-NINTH
New Orleans to see about it. On the 19th, the Colonel,
and many of our sick, started for the North by the way
of the Atlantic. His arm begins to mend. George Burbank made a neat box for it so that he can carry it with
some ease: His wound in the right heel has ceased to
trouble him.
There are sick here who should have gone. Poor fellows! some will die if they stay here another fortnight!
Send them home up the river and by cars, and death will
intercept them. This climate grows more infernal, daily.
We are now enjoying the second crop of flies, and, as for
musquitos, they crop often enough to keep us afflicted
day and night. This muggy weather, with mercury at
96~, is their carnival.  Were it not for our bars, we
would succumb. When we came here in February, many
said they would ultimately settle here. Angels of purity
in Hades are not scarcer than those who now cherish that
idea. We consign the whole of " Lousyana" to negroes
and alligators.
T. M. Judd (F), has had the bodies of Lieutenant
Deming and Sergeant Wolcott disinterred, and they,
with the body of Corporal Case (F), now await cooler
weather to bear them to their burial in Sandisfield.
Stricken, as she has been, it is fitting that some of her
slain should be brought home to hallow her soil with
their remains. Deming, Wolcott,'Case! three Christian
soldiers, members of the same church! a sad, yet proud
day, when Sandlisfield, that gave them birth, shall give
them graves.  Let her other dead remain where they
fell. The distant tombs will be joined together, and teach
the cost and sacredness of the reunited Union. RPemove
all our dead from the South, and we seem to yield that
soil to the enemy.
Our getting ready to come home makes the three years'
troops feel badly-even savage. They are down on the
nine months' men, and not unfrequently insult us. The
whole grievance is, "we are going home, while they




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           345
must stay in the grave-yard."  Glad as we are to leave,
we pity thenl, our gallant comrades, but love them Ito
better for the sneering  question: "Are you a nine
months' man or a soldier?2"  After battling as we have,
staying weeks beyond our term of service, doing every
thing required at our hands, this sneer almost makes a
man anxious to pitch into brother blue-coats, and show
them that we can fight, even if we are not soldiers. The
sneer generally comes from those who have heard, not
seen the enemy. The Commissary Sergeant of the 53d
Massachusetts, a regiment that is covered all over with
honors, went to the bakery after soft bread. The baker,
who had never seen fire save in his oven, told him he had
no bread for nine monthlings; he baked for soldiers.
Query: Would pitching him into one of his ovens, for a few
minutes, have been an unpardonable sin? Though the nine
months' children are sneered at, tell them you belong to the
Forty-ninth and they are proud to recognize you as comrades indeed. Regimental pride is almost as strong as
family pride, and I straightened up to my full height the
other day at the Ordnance Office. I was there making
arrangements to turn over our our guns, and was aske-d what
regiment I belonged to; I replied, "Trhe Forty-ninth
Massachusetts," emphasizing the number, for it bears
emphasis here, when the officer, a three years' man, said,
"That is a noble regiment."  On the bridge across the
Bayou, at Donaldsonville, two officers were censuring the
nine monthn' soldiers, when one, seeing some of our boys,
said, "There are'those brown-breeches fellows (our darkblue pants are a dingy brown now), you can never scare
them." He, perchance, had seen us under fire, and knew
that whether we had enlisted for a long or short period,
we were worthy of the term " soldiers."
We are not unappreciated; some of our officers and
men have been proffered higher positions if they will remain or return after a furlough of sixty days. T. M.
Judd (F), one of General Banks's clerks, has been offered
15*




346         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-ININTH
a clerkship of $100 per moath. He deserves the conpliment, but home, wife, child, turn the scale in favor of
Berkshire.  The extravagant bounty, $402, is leading
some to re-enlist. Is there no bottom to our Treasury?
Pay (considered as an equivalent for services rendered)
the soldier, and you must needs coin national hopes and
glory; ay, and some of the beatitude of heaven; so I do
not think the bounty too high; but can we, can any nation,
afford it?
At the orders of the officers, we threw away somo of
our clothing on going into battle. We expected the
government to reimburse us. That expectation fails us.
JHere is a wrong that should be righted. We had'' Dressparade" this evening, and I could not keep back the tears
as I gazed down the line. Nearly all were present.
Brown as Indians looked the veterans, deathly pale the
sick; but where is Deming, Judd, Sherman, Sissons, Rossiter, Wolcott, Warner, Pratt, and a host of others, good
and true? Dead, dying, wounded. Sad contrast ivith
our last dress-parade, May 19th. Broken ranks testify to
duty done, and rewarded with mutilation, dependence,
death. There were but few of our stalwart giants left.
Battle and sickness swept them away first. Washed and
reclothed, the boys look well, but nothing becomes them
so much as their bronzed features and their wounds.
We are in receipt of New York papers of July 10th.
They have no account of the surrender of Porlt Hudson.
They do us injustice who claim the surrender of Port
Hudson as a mere incident of the fall of Vicksburg.
True, that discouraged the rebels, but they knew that our
next assault would be successful, and so yielded, while
they could with honor. I have not heard of a single
negro prisoner being found in Port Hudson. Were they
all so wounded that they died? Many of the whites
were living. Were they murcdered?
The anti-draft riots of the North make us eager to be
at home to put down rebellion in New York. Better




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           344 
defeats on the Potomac than that mobs should triumph.
Returned soldiers will cheerfully administer allopathic
doses of grape and canister which proved so effectual in
Boston. Fortunately, our Governor did not recognize
the rioters as " my friends." At the very hour brutal Irishmen were slaughtering unarmed negroes in New York,
the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts was pressing against the
walls of Fort Wagner. Better such negroes for citizens,
ay, for rulers, than such foreigners. America has more
to fear from the latter class. I was always opposed to
" Native-Americanism," but a few riots of the New York
kind, and love of country will make me adopt that system, which I once thought so narrow and bigoted. All
honor to our negro soldiers. They deserve citizenship.
They will secure it. When Sergeant Carney held the
emblem of liberty over the walls of Fort Wagner, refusing to yield the sacred standard, though twice severely
wounded, and was carried to the hospital saying, to his
cheering comrades, " Boys, the old flag never touched the
ground," he gave Uetter proof of loyalty to this land than
ever did any son of Green Erin. Irishmen fight, because
fight is in them, but not for freedom. They have but little
appreciation of that. Germans, though half infidelized,
understand its inspiration, and accordingly make better
American citizens. I have written much about the negro,
and now, I bid him adieu. His future here is safe and
free. In the transition state, thousands will suffer and
die. A nation is not born without pangs. The life will
fully pay for the sufferings. " Bring me," said a desolate
slave-mother, " the ashes of the last auction-block for my
sold daughter." What matters that mother's pangs to
her joy in seeing the evidence of slavery's death. I have
seen much of slavery and no good, unless you call this
good: proportionably, there are fewer white prostitutes
in the South than in the North. Before Him, who is "no
respecter of person," call you this "good?"
Berkshire is preparing to receive the Forty-ninth.




348         LIFE WITH TIlE FORTY-NINTH
She will give us a reception expressive of her pride and
joy.  We are her sons, and have not disgraced her.' "When the boys come home," is now her refrain. We
fear her cakes will grow stale while waiting. No need
of that, for our brothers are even now on the road home,
and to themt, favors shown, will be written down in our
hearts of gratitude. If we return through the loyal
North, with appetites quickened by seeing delicacies
we cannot purchase, we only hope that short the
speeches, not long the grace, before we are conducted
to the flesh-pots of Berkshire. Ever so fully fed, an
angel's eloquence would tire us till we had clasped wives
and little ones to our hearts. Speed the slow hours till
the boys get home, is our prayer. But,
"They come not back, though all be won,
Whose young hearts leaped so high."
Benedict Niles (G), aged twenty-nine, farmer, of
Clarksburgh, died July 22d, at this place, of heart disease. He leaves wife and family. Weakly, he did
what he could. Spared as was his company from danger and exposures, he has yet given to this soil his
remains.
Augustine Aldrich (G), also from Clarksburgh, died
July 23d. HIe, too, leaves a family to expect his speedy
return. Alas! they will come to greet him, but sad
news will change the joy into wailing. He was twentythree years of age. His death was caused by an abscess
in the side.
Elijah M. Morse (F), merchant, from Otis, died of
diarrhcea, July 24th, aged twenty-seven years, leaving a
large family to mourn for the husband, the father, they
are no more to see. Hle was a g'ood soldier, quiet,
faithful, and respected by his comrades.
A. I-I. Maranville (B), farmer, from Savoy, died here,
July 26th, aged thirty-eigrht years.  He was a ready,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEEIZS.          349
prompt soldier and a faithful Christian man. Sad, to
die, just as we expect to leave; sad, that an anxious
wife shall receive tidings of a dead, instead of the embrace of a living husband; yet, the consolation survives,
that the weary soldier has been ushered into his heavenly
home, and that God's own peace surrounds and fills him.
There is life in his death.
In the hurry of the march on Port Hudson, I did not
apprise you of two deaths that occurred in Co. G.
Charles G. Courtwright (G), spinner, of South Adams,
aged twenty years, died at Baton Rouge, May 15th, of
congestion of the bowels. His sickness was short but
severe, and closed a valuable life, for he was a good
soldier, and as a man much respected.
Thomas J. Sweet (G), died in New Orleans, May 19th,
of diarrhcea. He was a farmer, from  Hancock, aged
twenty-six years; always sickly, but faithful, according
to his strength.




350         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XXXV.
MISSISSIPPI RIVER, ABOVE NEW ORLEANS, 
Aagust 9, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
On the 5th inst. the Majoi' returned from New Orleans, and informed us that the authorities recognized
our term of service as having expired on the 28th of
July, and would send us home as soon as they could
obtain the needed vessels. That same afternoon we were
ordered to prepare for leaving, and a joyous activity
reigned in every street.
August 6th, Co. G was relieved from provost duty,
and returned to camp. Though they have had no share
in the honors of the field, they are not without their
laurels. They gave complete satisfaction to'the ProvostMarshal, and the citizens were loth to give them  up.
Many and delicate were their duties. Not one abused
his privileges, without this cutting joke were an abuse.
Some of the natives are darker than many of the
negroes, who are required to be furnished with passes.
You can imagine the scene, when a guard stops one of
these dark citizens, requiring him to show a pass, on the
ground that no negroes are allowed to go by without
that authority, and the humble apology when citizen
angrily asserts his Circassian blood. Company G kept
Baton Rouoe as quiet as Pittsfield. You would not have
imagined there were many thousands of soldiers within
a few miles.  The negro troops were as orderiy as
church-wardens. While we were at Port Hudson, provost-guards had to do picket work, and were frequently
ordered to " fall in" to beat back a foe who threatened
often, but never attacked. The citizens of Baton Rouge




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         351
will forget the Forty-ninth Mass., but will long remember
Co. G, whose faithful discharge of duty gave them all
the quiet and security of peace amid the turmoils and
lawlessness of war.  That company enjoyed almost as
good health as if they had remained in Berkshire. They
realized many of the comforts of home, to which we
were strangers.  Dismissed with the earnest "Well
done, good and faithful guards!" they rejoined us.
The return of nearly all our "missing," on the 7th
inst., put us in good spirits.  Between their capture,
July 13 and July 15, they were marched forty-two
miles and then paroled, fed, in the mean time, on a cup
of meal each per day. They were robbed of nearly
every thing. Most of them found their way to the river
and were carried to New Orleans, thence to Ship Island,
and thence to Baton Rouge. They suffered much, and
H. P. Wood (F), a noble soldier, almost laid down and
died. Only the unremitting kindness of his comrades
enabled him to find his way into our lines. Poor fellow!
I fear an early grave is yawning for him. I hope he
may, at least, be spared to die at home. On reaching
New Orleans, they were ragged and dirty, but they fell
into the hands of Captain W. W. Rockwell (called
Willie Rockwell at home), of Pittsfield. He deserves
the affectionate abbreviation, for he tenderly cared for
them, securing good clothes, (at whose expense I know
not, certainly not at theirs), and freely furnishing them
with money from his own purse. Many of them were
strangers to him, but they were Massachusetts soldiers,
Berkshire boys. His generous heart cared to know
no more.
Of Fuller (F) and Bull (A) we can gather no tidings.
There is but little doubt that they are lying in some of the
ditches near the battle-field of Donaldsonville. Perchance,
wounded, they sought shelter there from the foe, knowing not a fiercer foe was on their track. It may be, that,
like the lamented Bradley, death mercifully shortened




352         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
their sufferings. To know this would be easier for friends
to bear than the harrowing suspense. Compelled to relinquish all hopes of seeing them again, I give you their
brief obituaries.
Wells Fuller was a Stockbridge farmer, aged thirty
years. He leaves a wife and several children. In camp,
he was ever steady, faithful, and reliable. He was one of
our pioneers, and did his duty intelligently and fully. He
made a fine appearance, looking the soldier. For long
days he waited for the signal to batter down the walls of
Port Hudson. It came not, and he was spared to pioneer
us amid the cane-brakes of Bayou La Fourche. Doing
his duty, he met the unconquerable enemy. We know
not the spot of his burial; but we record him among our
" fallen brave."
James B. Bull was an excellent soldier and an intelligent man. He was a corporal in Company A. Unwell,
he did not go up to Port Hudson till near the close of
that siege. Spared those scenes of slaughter, he yielded
up his life in an hour of comparative safety. The land
of stern devotion to duty, Scotland, gave him birth;
Louisiana gives him a burial.'Twere worth the deathstruggle to plant in that morally barren soil, the love of
religious freedom that has lifted Scotland so high among
the races of men. "Missing!" who knows how much of
agony gathers round that word. A soldier missing. The
world hears and heeds but little, but some hear, and sorrowing echoes ring through the chambers of their souls.
"When thousands fall, and are massed into trenches together, when thousands of homes are darkened, and thousands of hearts bereft forever, we weep over the magnificent sacrifice which entirely fills our imagination. But
when a single life is. offered, a solitary home desolated
for the sake of country, why it is of such small account
we cannot come down from our splendid grief, we who
have bewept the stupendous carnage of Fredericksburg,
Gettysburg and Port Hudson-to bewail the loss of




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.             3 53'only a man.' He died for his country, yet who will
pronounce his eulogy, who print his name in the newspapers, and'cover it with glory?' It is of no account
to the great world, mad for her crowned heroes, that
waiting their nameless brave"'Mother or maiden stand
Within a lonely home,
And say:' When will he come
Out from the returning ranks? IIow long he lingers
With his victorious bandl'
Tender loving lips have kissed
Their last; and never more shall thrill white fingers
For that one soldier missed I' "
Ralph E. Phelps (K), aged thirty-six years, farmer, from
Florida, was wounded in the leg, May 27th, so that amputation became necessary. He died in the hospital at
Baton Rouge the day we left. The brave corporal reached
his home first. He leaves a family to mourn his loss
Florida sent ten good men with the Forty-ninth; only
one-half return. She may well sadden at their loss, but
pride also gathers round the grave of such dauntless
heroes as Ralph E. Phelps.
We left Baton Rouge August 8th, 5 P. M., by the
steamer J. Raymond. Our rejuvenated band played, a
fine breeze quickened our blood, and passing the State
House and General Hospital, we sailed down the river,
" homeward bound."  True, some of our wounded comrades were looking at our receding forms with sadness;
true, we were much crowded on deck and in cabin, but
every thing was forgotten in the joyous thought, " duty
done and we're homeward bound." Saturday afternoon
it was, and, of course, the negroes' holiday. Their toil
over, a toil, our toil has mingled with hope, it was fitting
that they should wave us their adieus.  Cheerfully the
night passed, and the morning found us at New Orleans.
Lo! the T. A. Scott had left us. A Connecticut regi



354         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
ment played us a Yankee trick, and stole an earlier passage. We embarked on the steamboat Temple, about 22
P. M., August 9th, and are now retracing our weary steps.
A long, discomforting, exhausting trip is before us. The
well will bear it, for each revolution of the wheels brings
us nearer home. I fear me the very anxiety of our sick
to reach Berkshire will exhaust them and open intervening graves.




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         355
LETTER XXXVI.
CAIRo, ILLINOIS, August 18, 1863.
IMY DEAR L.:
Sunday night, the 16th instant, at 11 P. M., we reached
this gloomy place, and are yet waiting for transportation.
We have had a dull trip. The river is beautiful, but monotonous. Above Baton Rouge, which we re-left on the
10th, 9 A. M., there are few houses to be seen on the
banks of the stream. We gazed on the dear old flag we
llad followed into battle, floating in triumph over Port
Hudson and Vicksburg, with emotions of mingled sorrow and pride. The numerous boats descending the
river, eloquently proclaim that we have not spent our
strength for naught. It is free. Its freedom proclaims the
death of slavery and rebellion. It was fitting we should
sail over the scene of our triumphs, yet bilt few of us have
any desire to renew the triumphal march. Coming up
this river in August, under the most favorable circumstances, is not a matter of pleasure; to us it was crowded
with discomforts. Lying on the damp, cinder-covered
decks at night was positive comfort to enduring the rays
of the sun by day. On the unsheltered deck we must
be, or seek shade in the suffocating hold, in close proximity to the fires. Too crowded to be benefited by circulation of air, which Heaven gave grudgingly, we panted
through the days and hailed the nights with their damp.
ness and mosquitos as friends indeed. Cooking was
performed under difficulties only inferior to those we encountered on the Illinois. All was borne cheerfully, for,
are we not " homeward bound?' You can imagine how
the sick fared. They are failing rapidly. Some have
died.




356        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
We had to go slowly up this tortuous river, because
new bars form so rapidly, that constant travel is necessary
to understand their location. After two years' rest it
was almost a strange channel to our, pilot. Getting on a
bar would not only have delayed us, but might have
brought us into disagreeable proximity to the prowling
guerrillas, who amuse themselves by firing into passing
boats, and by capturing those who get " stuck." Twentyfive unloaded rifles may enable us to do guard duty as
we return, but would hardly keep back a horde of rebels.
To men who are in a hurry, whose friends are awaiting
them, it is provoking to look over a jet of land, not a
mile wide, and learn that you have to travel thirty miles
to reach that spot. All that belongs to the trip " up the
river."
The officers tried to make up their accounts while on
the boat, so as not to delay our being mustered out and
paid off, but our craft was rightly named " Tempest," and
after specimens of chirography that would have appalled
the Departments at Washington, the attempt was abandoned.
We leave some of our sick at this place, among whom
is William E. Clark (A), of Pittsfield; a tip-top soldier.
I hope we do not leave him to die among strangers. As
we were near Donaldsonville, on the night of the 9th
instant, Ezra Van Dusen (E) walked, while asleep, into
the river and was drowned. His body could not be recovered.  Hie was a farmer, from Egremont, aged twentyseven years, and is spoken of as a nice man. He was
mainly employed in the cooking department, where he
gave general satisfaction. He leaves a wife and children. Perchance they will come to Pittsfield, to greet
the returning husband and father. God pity them in
that hour.
Daniel Owens (I) died-on the 13th instant, aged thirtyone years. His brother, Nelson, who disappeared when
we were encamped at Bayou Montecino, died among the




MASSACHUSTETTS VOLUNTEERS.         35 7
rebels, at Jackson, Mississippi. I had no acquaintance
with either of them.
Levi Proutt (I), farmer, from Cummington, aged fortyfour years, died of diarrhoea, August 14th.
Egbert Smith (H), a Sandisfield farmer, aged twentysix years, died on the same day. His health was poor,
but he was always willing to do his duty. A good soldier he was, one on whom you could always depend. He
started with us when we moved on Port Hudson, but
was too weak for service, so had to return. A good man
and a faithful comrade; we buried him in Arkansas, as
we did the others who died on the boat. Sad interruptions, were these stoppages. Death demanded additional
tribute almost on the confines of our eagerly sought
homes. Thank God, the weary trip, with its suspense
and exhaustion and death, is over. Soon we-will be on
our homeward road again; soon reach the desired haven.
Has death been as remorseless there?




358         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
LETTER XXXVII.
PITTSFIELD, MASS., August 24, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
Home again! and now I sit down to finish the account
of our trip.  Officers in passenger-cars and "enlisted
men" in cattle-cars, we left Cairo on the evening of the
18th. Cattle-cars awakened our indignation at first, but
we learned they were more comfortable for a four days'
journey than those occupied by the officers; for, occasionally, we could enjoy the luxury of expansion, and, albeit,
they were hard and springless, get some sleep. Clean
straw was given to the sick for bedding. Passing through
fever-cursed Southern Illinois, we reached Mattoon the
next Imorning, where we were furnished, gratuitously,
by the ladies with an excellent breakfast. Fresh from
hard-tack and salt-beef, we did that breakfast such justice
as left our providers no doubts as to our appetite or their
capacity to cater for hungry men. I tell you, the mother
rose to our eyes as we overfilled our craving stomachs.
Despite the wretched Copperheads, who held a meeting
there a few days before, at which cheers for Davis and
groans for Lincoln were intermingled, we knew we were
in the loyal North, and woman's kindness came to us
with an unexpected and touching power. God bless
them! they were not handsome, but they were earnestly
good, and, with their comforts, we received fresh draughts
of patriotism for future sacrifices. We had been worrying
ourselves about the emptiness of our purses; we knew
not that the great heart of the North was alive to our
coming. After we had penetrated a few miles into
Illinois, apple-peddlers offered their wares at, what




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           359
seemed to us, marvellously low prices, but still beyond
our reach; anon, some kind souls would throw apples
into the passing cars; then, at small stations, we
would see miniatures of the " dear old flag" flying, and
whole baskets of fruit would be handed in, and, at times,
those who had money would rush out and get a little milk
or a few eggs, and return with their pulses no lighter,
which, being published, would lead scores to the friendly
doors, from which none came away empty-handed, and
then we exclaimed, "This is our land; God bless it
forever and ever!" At Mattoon we began to learn that
returning soldiers had coin more precious than gold; coin
that secured not only all needed blessings, but the affectionate attention of men too old to be in the army, and
of women who so loved their country that they had
given to its defence husbands, brothers, sons, lovers, all.
Our trip was one continued ovation. So many regiments
had preceded us' that their benevolence had become
systematized, and from station to station the lightning
flashed the news, "The boys are coming " and'great
hearts, knowing that they are "our boys," no matter
whether they hail from Illinois or Massachusetts, met us
with so many luxuries that money seemed a thing too
sordid to connect with such a triumphal march.
Every thing substantial was offered; and a good woman, perchance thinking of -her "old man," who liked
his tobacco after meals, would supply us with some
" fine-cut," and another would pass round a little of the
"ardent," concluding it would not do to be too strict,
and the change of water might make it beneficial to the
boys; while others presented us with bottles of blackberry brandy, or little vials of medicine for diarrhcea.
God bless them! It was worth much of our privations
to be the recipients of such loving and grateful attentions. No one gave because we were moneyless; they
knew not that, but their hearts said, "These are our
boys; they have been fighting for us; can't we do yet




360         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
more for them?" At first they did not complain of our
appetites,\but after two or three gorgings we necessarily
came down to human standards, and really saddened
some because we could not eat all they offered. " Take
it along with you, you may need it on the road;" and
filling up haversacks, we would pass on. Bless their dear
souls! they forgot that there were many stations on the
road, and we must leave some vacant corners for future
benefactors.
Cold will be our hearts before we forget Mattoon,
Indianapolis, Bellefontaine, Cleveland, Buffalo, Utica.
We had sick with us, for whom we cared, but with such
rough manner that they thought of home by a tenderness which was lacking; but, stop where we would,
strong men and earnest-eyed women sought out the sick,
pressing dainties upon them, till our good surgeon had
to interfere to prevent any illustrations of being killed
with kindness. What loving hearts could devise or
loving skill prepare, was furnished with an accompanying
tenderness that brought home vividly before our almost
despairing, ay, dying  comrades.  Refined, delicate
women would sit down in the dirty cars, take the heads
of the poor fellows on their laps, and tenderly bathe their
brows and wash hands and feet that had long been guiltless of water. Like angels, they hovered over these
wrecks of human strength, and, like angels, wept not, lest
the tears welling up from overcharged hearts should hinder
them in the discharge of their loving, but hurried duties.
At Cleveland we left Lieutenant Reed, Charley French
(D), and others. I fear they will return to Berkshire
only as corpses. Reed is a noble fellow. Had he been
willing to leave his company sooner than he did, he
might now be well. To go to Port Hudson, he left the
hospital, ard only returned thither when his shrinking
flesh could no longer submit to the earnest, patriotic
will. If he dies, he is a battle-victim as surely as if he
had fallen in the thickest of the strife.




3MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         361
It would take up too much of your time to read of all
our receptions, but you must pause awhile at the following extract from the Utica Hferald:
" THE 49TH MASSACHUsETTS.-It was about fifteen minutes before eight o'clock last evening when the 49th
Massachusetts regiment arrived at the depot on a train
of twenty cars. The vigilant committte and their vigilant aids had made their preparations on a more extensive scale than heretofore, in order that the large
regiment of seven hundred and fifteen men might be
suitably accommodated and refreshed. Besides the usual
complement of coffee, biscuits, sandwiches, cakes, and
meats, there were platters heaped with warm boiled.
potatoes, a good supply of different varieties of pickles,
pies, and other niceties-a feast fit to make all who
looked upon it hungry. The ladies who lent their assistance never looked more kind and smiling, and many of
them stood ready to wait on the sick, with wines and
cordials, and such other delicacies as were needed.
" Such a crowd as was at the d6pot, to see and greet the
Forty-ninth, has not been there since the reception of the
14th and 26th regiments. The people began to gather
before 7 o'clock, and continued to flock de6pt ward until
the number was estimated at five or six thousand.
"The regiment was greeted with cheers, and thunders
from Dunn and Morrison's battery on its arrival, and
responded with other cheers and martial music. It was
pleasant to see the soldiers' faces light up as they looked
over the well-spread tables and smelt the fragrance of the
coffee-cups. They had had nothing to eat since morning,
at Buffalo. As they filed out of the cars and into position, it was remarked by many that a finer appearing body
of soldiers had not been seen in Utica. A much more
stalwart regiment, physically, than most others, it appears
to have considerably more than its share of intelligence;
and as to their faces, the ladies were charmed. And such
cheery prattle and bustle as these good ladies distributed
16




3.52       TIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
among the handsome soldier-faces cannot be outdone by
any other ladies of any other town; of this we are absolutely certain; and the owners of the handsome faces
will remember them to the everlasting honor of Uticawe heard them say they would. They had received
handsome treatment, they said, at Buffalo, Cleveland,
and other places along their route, but Utica was.ahead
-Utica ladies did beat all. And so it is no wonder that
they went off cheering vpciferously for the ladies of
Utica. Some of the ladies had prepared pretty bouquets,
and did not forget to distribute them.
" Citizens who looked after the sick inform us that they
were all very comfortable and better cared for than those
of the previous regiments have been. They say that
Surgeons Winsor and Rice are evidently just the men
for their position, and deserving of the highest credit."
The editor of the Eagle truthfully and happily says:
" And let us add that they still keep on cheering for
Utica. By every Berkshire fireside the patriotic kindness
of those Utica ladies is told, and warm hearts exp'nd
with gratitude to hear it. Tens of thousands of Berkshire hearts will beat with a kindlier feeling whenever
hereafter they hear or see the name of a city which
so nobly cheered the wayfaring of those we were impatient to welcome home. God bless the glorious city of
Utica!"
On the 22d, at 1 A. M., we reached Albany, where some
received sandwiches and coffee, and where all washed up
and put on their best toggery, so as to look as well as
possible under the gaze of Berkshire. To have marched
into Pittsfield in all our dirt and rags, would only have
been an affectation of heroism. We knew that " mother,"
wife, sister, would be better pleased to have us look
presentable, and the nearer home we got the gentler
and softer were our feelings. In comfortable passengercars we left Albany about 7 A. M., and cheerily sped on
our way. Never did any country look so beautiful as




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          363
did the rich counties of Albany and Columbia. We
crossed the State line, and, with a joy too deep for
cheers, felt we were again in the dear old Commonwealth, whose principles we had gone forth to uphold
and extend. The booming cannon and the deep cheers
at last told us we were at home. Berkshire was there
to greet us. Her proudest day had dawned. The longexpected Forty-ninth had come. She was there to give
us an ovation as honorable to her as it was grateful to us.
In that ovation pride for our victories mingled with joy
for our return. It was the expression of a patriotism
wedded to domestic happiness. The " oldest inhabitant"
never before saw such a crowd in Pittsfield. From
early light extra trains had poured in their thousands.
It was a lovely morning, and "The boys had come
home!" We were to keep in order, fall into line, and,
after a short march and a short speech, repair to the
tables of feasting.- A nice programme, but a mother's
eyes met those of her child, and must they wait an hour
for the fond embrace? The husband, the father, saw the
wife, the little ones, and Heaven prompted one glad
greeting before the formal reception. Robed in mourning, the bereaved parent could poorly wait to shed her
tears on the breast of her last boy, while she sadly
thought of the other lying in his lonely Southern grave.
The following extracts from the Pittsfield Sun will
give you a good view of "Reception Day:"
"The regiment was received at the dep6t and escorted
to the Park in the following order: Cavalcade of citizens;
Stewart's Band of N. Adams; Housatonic Engine Company; Greylock ITook and Ladder Company; Taconic
Engine Company; Lee Cornet Band; Water-Witch Fire
Engine Company, of Lee; St. Joseph's Mutual Aid Society; the Pittsfield Liederkranz; Schreiber's Band of
Albany; 49th Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers.'" The line of march was from the Western Railroad D&pot, through D6p6t street, North street and South street,




364         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
to East Housatonic street, through East Housatonic st,
to ]Maple street, through Maple to East street, up East
street to the north side of the Park.
"At the front of the regiment rode its heroic commander, Colonel Bartlett, mounted upon a splendid horse
which he took with him to Port IHudson, having but one
arm at liberty, the other not yet being recovered from the
wound received early in the attack upon the fort. His soldier-like bearing, and the enthusiasm of the regiment upon
meeting him again, added to the record of his deeds and
the silent testimony of his wounds, prove him to be one
of the few of our many officers who honor their positions
more than their positions honors them. When the history of the present war shall be written, Massachusetts,
in her long train of heroes, shall write high upon the
scroll of fame the name of the gallant Colonel of the
Forty-ninth.
" A little in the rear of the Colonel rode Lieut.-Colonel
Sumner, on whom the command of the regiment devolved
upon the fall of the Colonel, and who also fell, wounded,
while gallantly leading on the charge. Farther down the
regiment rode Major Plunkett, who commanded the regiment after his two superior officers were wounded, until
their arrival in Pittsfield. The enthusiasm of the men
for this tried and true officer knew no bounds. As in
stature he futlly sustains the reputation of his family, he
was especially a mark for the sharpshooters of the enemy,
and fears were entertained for him by his friends, on this
acccount. But through all the exposure and trials which
the regiment has been compelled to undergo he has
passed unharmed, faithfully discharging his duties upon
every occasion, winning the admiration of friend and
foe by his courageous bearing in battle and bravely leadin, the regiment at Port' Hudson and Donaldsonville.
It will be remembered by our readers that a rebel sharpshooter, taken prisoner from a rifle-pit at Port Hudson,
inquired, pointing to the Major, who that officer was, and




MA SSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          365
stated, that'he'd fired five times at the critter and
couldn't hit him once.' Rarely do we see a corps of
officers so well deserving a gallant regiment, rarely a
regimnent reflecting such honor upon their officers.
"The streets through which-the procession passed were
all beautifully decorated, and the town appeared in its
gayest colors in honor of the occasion. Near the d6pot
was suspended a banner bearing the inscription so familiar to all,'How are you, Forty-ninth?' Large flags
were suspended across North street, from  Goodrich,
Geer's, Root's and Bdrbank Blocks, and smaller ones
were displayed from the various stores. There were also
banners with the mottos,' Welcome Home, Gallant
Forty-ninth,' and'Ain't you glad you've come?' Farthor down the street, a little above the corner of East
street, stood the triumphal arch, the framework of which
was first covered with cloth of the national colors, red,
white, and blue, and afterwards tastefully ornamented
with wreaths of evergreens and decorated with flags.
Upon the north side'was the inscription,'Welcome,'
the truth of which was verified in the hearty cheers and
joyous countenances of the vast throng assembled to receive these brave and loyal sons of Berkshire. Upon the
south side, were the following:'Plain's Store, May 21st,''Port Hudson, May 27th, June 14th,''Donaldsonville,
July 13th.' There were also upon the north side, two
beautiful stars of roses, above which, respectively, were
the words,'Berkshire,' and'49th.'  Between  the
Pittsfield Bank and Backus's Block were suspended flags,
on one of which was the motto,' In God is our trust,'
and also a large banner trimmed with black, containing
the inscription,'In 2femoriam.  T-he Fallen -Brave.'
As the regiment passed beneath it, every cap was raised.
It was a beautiful and affecting sight-those hardened,
sun-burned men, happy at regaining once again their native hills, turning from the cheers and congratulations of
the crowd to heave a sigh or drop a silent tear to the




366         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
memory of'the fallen brave,' who went forth from
among us to return no more.
"From the Sanitary Rooms was suspended the inscription:' Know them which labor among you. Esteem
them very highly in love, for their works' sake.' Between
the Rooms and the Park, a Louisiana State flag waved,
taken from the Custom-Hotuse, New Orleans. Over the
Pittsfield Bank, and under the national colors, hung a
Confederate flag, reversed, which was taken from the
enemy by our troops. On the Old Elm in the Park, was
a sentiment, prepared by Miss R', which was worthy
of the old tree itself:'Only thile brave deserve the FAIR.'
Nearly all the private dwellings and entrances on the line
of march were tastefully ornamented, but we have neither
space to particularize nor ability to discriminate between
these various evidences of patriotism and good will.
"The procession arrived at the Park at about half-past
eleven o'clock, A. M. where the regiment, drawn up with
closed ranks, opposite the First Congregational Church,
were addressed by the Hon. James D. Colt, as the HIon.
S. W. Bowerman, previously selected for that purpose on
account of his efforts in raising the regiment and the interest lie has always felt in it, being unable, through sickress, to fiiufil his appointment.
" Mr. Colt's address of welcome was not written out by
himself, as was supposed, and does not appear in this
report. We took no notes. The speaker alluded very
eloquently and appropriately to'the fallen brave;' to
the gallant Colonel, Lieut.-Colonel, and Major, and soldiers
of the regiment; the heroic and patriotic services they
had rendered the country; to the heartfelt regard entertained for them by their fellow-citizens, which was evidenced in the immense gathering on the occasion; in the
triumphal arches that had been erected; the expressive
mottoes that greeted them; the national flags that floated
in the breeze; and the liberal provisions that fair hands
had made to give themn a sumptuouswepast.




MASSACHUSEfTTS VOLUNTEERS.          367
"At the conclusion of the address, the regiment was invited by the Marshal, Graham A. Root, Esq., on behalf
of the ladies of Berkshire, to enter the Park and partake
of the refreshment provided. After the soldiers had done
ample justice to the viands set before them, the tables
were thrown open to all who wished to avail themselves
of this opportunity to appease the cravings of the inner
man, and a large number accepted the invitation. It is
an evidence of the unexampled generosity of the ladies
in preparing the entertainment, that after all had finished
at the tables, there remained large quantities of refreshments, part of which were reserved for the regiment expected in the evening, and the remainder distributed
among the poor.
"The entire reception was a magnificent ovation, and
may be regarded in every respect as a complete success.
The morning trains into Pittsfield, both regular and extra,
brought from every direction, large numbers of the citizens of Berkshire to do honor to the regiment, representing, as it did, every town in the county, and it is, we
think, a fair estimate to say that the number present was
about 10,000. A more orderly celebration we have rarely
seen.' Toward the close of the afternoon, the trains departed
on the various railroads, bearing with them their loads of
strangers, and the town sank into comparative quiet.
Only the occasional passing of some soldier with, by his
side, a fine matronly countenance beaming with satisfaction at the safe return of her'boy,' or with some
younger member of the softer sex, whose rosy cheeks
and downcast eyes betokened a nearer tie, told us that'Our happy jubilee was o'er,' and the gallant 49th at
home in old Berkshire.
" Great praise is due to the Chief Marshal, Graham A.
Root, and the Assistant Marshals, for the admirable manner in which they discharged their duties.
"To the ladies of the several committees who arranged




368        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
the contributions of our citizens for the collation, who
spread the tables, arranged the flowers, and dispensed
the bounties of the repast, too much. credit cannot be
given.
" The music by the Pittsfield Liederkranz, in the Park,
was listened to with great satisfaction.
"The arduous labors of the gentlemen who arranged the
triumphal arch, and whose efforts were unceasing to meet
the expectations of the public, and make the reception of
the 49th such as would reflect honor upon the county and
town, have elicited warm commendation. We perform
an act of simple justice in mentioning the names of Messrs.
Wm. R. Plunkett, R. W. Adam, A. E. Goodrich, Winm.
IH. Teeling, D. J. Dodge, and J. D. Adams, Jr., in this
connection."
It was a happy and a sad day. Friends with joy came
to greet friends, yet many saw, in the first embrace,
that the only joy left them was to hand them tenderly
down to early graves. A comrade, whose strength had
never failed him in the day of battle, found himself but
a babe, when from his stricken wife he first learned that
Death had snatched away his last "household jewel."
Wives came to receive their husbands, only to learn that
they were dead and buried. Three little children, clad
in mourning for a recently deceased mother, instead of
meeting a father's embrace, were told that that father
was one of our dead-our " fallen brave."  As we
marched, with uncovered heads, beneath the banner
bearing the inscription, "In 2Menzoriam —The Fallen
-Brave," so near the triumphal arch, and thought of
those who had so fondly looked forward to that hour,
when they should see their loved ones proudly returning
from the war, but who, through tear-darkened eyes,
now saw naught but their vacant places in the ranks,
sorrow mingled with our gladness, and our joy, though
sincere, was quiet and subsued.
Next to our pleasure in seeing relatives, was that of




.MASSACIIUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.              369
once more looking into the face of our cherished Colonel.
We greeted himr with such cheers as convinced him that,
wMay down in the depths of our heart, among our proudest
and.holiest remembrances, may be found his name.
" Boys," said he, as we entered Slaughter's field, on the
27th of May, " do nothing that you will be ashamed of
when you meet your friends in Berkshire." The record
of that day shows how well we obeyed him, how well
we merited
"TH E  HEROES' RECEPTION.
"Them have I seen I O sight td cheer'The patriot, when he bleeding lies;
To kindle hope and scatter fear,
And light new fire in dying eyes I
"Their way with banners waved and burned,
The welkin rang with patriot cheers,
From every window fondly yearned
Bright eyes that spoke their joy in tears.
"And music round their pathway flung
Its gladness in a silver shower,
And over all the great bells swung,
Shouting their joy from every tower.
"The war-horse their colonel bestrode
Stepped conscious with a soul of flame,
As if he knew his master rode
Straight to the glorious gates of Fame.
"The coldest gazer's heart grew warm,
And felt no more its indecision;
For every soul which saw that form,
Grew larger to contain the vision."
The papers inform us that Bartlett has been appointed
Colonel of a veteran regiment, to be raised in western
Massachusetts.  His wrist may be a little stiff, as the
result of his Port Hudson wound; otherwise he is as
competent to lead a new regiment as he was to lead the
"Forty-ninth."   They will say, " No troops need a more
capable leader." Though he is young, I hope he will soon
16*




370         LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
become a Brigadier. He should have a wider field of
usefulness than that of Colonel.
Too much praise cannot be awarded to that excellent
lady, Mrs. C. T. Fenn, and her effective coadjutors, for
their care of our sick and wounded. About fifty were
taken to the hospital, where they received all the attentions that patriotism allied to Christianity, working out
through women's hearts and hands, could inspire. None
made question of rank or residence, nothing but the
measure of illness and necessity. Of Mrs. C. T. Fenn,
Mrs. L. F. Sperry, Mrs. W. Carpenter, Mrs. M. U. Lee and
daughters, Mrs. P. Allen, Mrs. D. J. Dodge, Mrs. H. Melville, Mrs. J. P. Rockwell, Mrs. J. Gregory, Mrs. D.
Wilson, and Miss Sandford, many a stricken soldier will
ever think with gratitude, and many a soldier's widow
will, in her loneliness, invoke Heaven's blessings on them
who so tenderly handed their loved ones to God and His
mercy. The sick sent home by sea were landed at Fort
Schuyler, New York, and, by the workings of red-tape,
were dragged to Pittsfield by the way of Stonington and
Boston, though their fisends were on hand to conduct
them gently home. I conclude this "Reception" letter
with brief memoirs of our dead. Do you wonder that
reception-day was marked with sombreness?
Ed~twardc 2. French (C), a farmer boy, from Peru, aged
eighteen, died at home, of consumption, July 17th. IIe
was one of the very finest boys of his company. Had
there been any of the "shirkS,' in his composition his
life might have been prolonged, for he clung to duty
long after he was fit for the hospital. Discharged after
we had commenced the siege of Port Hudson, God
mercifully spared him to hear the news of our success,
and to die at home.
George WI  Clark (E), of Sheffield, aged twenty years,
died August 8th, in the hospital at New Haven, C't.
For months he lay prostrate with fever, and was sent
north with the Colonel. The day before his death his




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.          3 71
father went to see him, hoping to be able to remove him
to his home, but God ordered otherwise. He was a good
soldier, and a young man of more than ordinary promise,
loved and respected by all who knew hirn. On leaving with
another son, he said, " Mother, one of us will be returned
to you again, and one will not.   Not "will return,"
"but will be returned.' He realized that God, not man,
was the disposer of such events. Of five from Sheffield,
who died, George alone was buried in his native soil.
Duty done, and suffered, he rests well.
William Funk, Jr. (K), also from Sheffield, was buried
at sea, August 10th, from the ship St. Mary, which was
bearing him and other sick homeward. He was a steady,
reliable farmer, aged forty-four years.
The remains, of Henry D. Rhoades (E) were deposited
in the sea, August 12th. His brother sleeps in his soldier's grave, at Baton Rouge. Ienry was but twentyone years of age; and in his death, so near home, New
Marlboro loses a fine, steady boy. "After life's fitful
fever, he sleeps well."
On the same day, from the same fever-ship, the body
of Mosely Pomeroy (F), of Monterey, was buried in the
Atlantic, to await that day when " the sea shall give up
its dead." He was sick a long while, and in his nineteenth year found rest.
The greedy deep swallowed up all that was mortal of
Sylvester Burrows (I), on the 13th inst., at the age of
forty-four years. He was a farmer, from Mount Washington, and was a nice, moral man. Diarrhcea, which
closed his career, alone prevented him from mingling in
the glory and the grief that surround the name of Port
Hudson. A family mourns his loss.
George Yager (D), a large, strong farmer, from Alford,
was taken with diarrhcea soon after we reached Baton
Rouge, and was buried at sea on the 13th inst. He was
a German, aged thirty-six years, and leaves quite a large
family, to whom our return brought only blighted hopes




372         LIFE WITH THE FORTY —NINTII
and blasted anticipations.  A very fine soldier was given
to consecrate the ocean to the rights of mankind.
John iM. Taller (I), aged thirty-five years, of Lee,
was buried at home, having died of diarrhoea, in New
Haven, the 14th inst. HI-e was a good, moral man, and a
faithful, reliable soldier.
Charles Ttryqeon (E), aged twenty-seven years, farmer
from New Marlboro, was sent home, in the hope of sparing
his life, but fiver closed his career about the time. we
reached Pittsfield. As a man and a soldier, he bore a
good name.
iyron Nichols, orderly sergeant of Co. F, fell from
the cars, near Little Falls, N. Y., as we were returning,
on the 21st inst., and when found, was dead. IIe was a
farmer, fiom Otis, aged twenty-six years, and leaves a
wife ani- child. We were telegraphed that a member of
Co. I was found dead.. Owing to the mistake in the
letter, we were not aware of our real loss till we reached
Albany. Our comrade was an excellent soldier, and bore
well his part in the toils and dangers of the bloody campaign, out of which he came uninjured, to meet death,
when his wife and child, of whom he often spoke, were
almost within sight. IHe said, on the trip home, he had
a presentiment that he would never live to see Berkshire.
He was a steady man and a reliable soldier. We mourn
for him, but who may enter into the sacredness of the
grief of her who came to meet a husband's embrace, and
received only his corpse! -Has death no relentings?
Ozro P. Brow:n (K), aged eighteen years, one of the
best farmer boys of Florida, yielded to diarrhcea after
we had left hilm at New Orleans. He begged hard to
come hoine with us, but his young life was too valuable
to be risked, and we left him, but not alone. His comrade, J. Tinney, though eager to see his family, stayed
with him. Captain Weston, with his usual kindness, left
him money to secure all comforts, and now we are apprised that the noble lad tenants one of the nameless




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.             373
graves that crowd and sanctify the shores of the Mississippi.
Zebulon Beebe (G), a carpenter; from Williamstown,
aged forty-four years, died in the hospital at New Haven,
on the 18th inst. He leaves a large family. Our comrade was steady, but too weakly fbr a soldier's duties;
yet he did his part well as hospital cook. Consumption,
which ended his life, was not of Southern birth. He
took it with him.
Ilosea Wheeler (B) died this day, at his home, in
West Stockbridge, of diarrhzea, aged forty-seven years.
He was spared, to die among the friends for whom he
went forth as a soldier, and as such, contracted the disease that has carried desolation and sorrow to so many
hearts.
John A. Fzrancis (B) was one of our best soldiers.
He did his part nobly as a member of our left wing,
which met the fiercest surges of the wave of fire that, on
the 27th of Mlay, covered so many homes with honor
and sadness. He had recovered from  a wound in the
head received then, and, in good health, started for
home, but was taken sick in the cars, and, to-day, yielded
up a well-spent life at his home in Windsor, aged twentysix years. HIe was faithful as a soldier: could we expect
less of one who was faithful as a man and a Christian?
I cannot more fittingly close this letter than with these
choice verses from  the pen of the pastor of the M. E.
Church in this place:
IN  MEMORIA.
THE' FALLEN BRAVE OF THIE FORTY-NINTH.
BY J. WESLEY CARHART, D. D.
"Sleep, ye fallen, sweetly sleep,
Your work was nobly done;
Your names are written with the brave
Who fadeless laurels won.




374           LIFE WITH THE FORTY-NINTH
Ye saw the vaunting foe advance,
With banners floating highYe struck for freedom and the right,
Resolved to win, or die.
"Sleep, ye gallant fallen, sleep
Where winds your requiems sigh;
Your memory lives in many a heart
And moistens many an eye.
No monuments of marble mark
Your places of repose:
Ye sleep where Southern violets bloom,
Or tangled sea-weed grows.
"Sleep, ye sons of Freedom, sleep,
Where bugles never sound,
Nor clash of steel nor cannon's boom
Disturb your rest profound I
The glorious flag of fadeless hues,'Neath which ye fought and fell,
Shall ever proudly wave on high
And of your valor tell."




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.           3 75
LETTER XXXVIII.
PITTSFIELD. MASS., September 1, 1863.
MY DEAR L.:
This day, we were mustered out of the service of the
United States. There is now no more a "Forty-ninth
Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers." Our corporate
life is extinct. The soldier is merged in the citizen. We
step to the duties of private life with a prouder tread.
We have done something to make that life more secure;
some-thing to make American citizenship a holier title.
Our toils, our sufferings, our deaths, have advanced the
finger on the dial of Time. Earth feels mole the attraction of the great sacrifice, and is nearer Jesus. We have
had a part in the grandest movements of the race.
Clothed in the livery of the nation, we have stood as
Heaven's soldiers.  Consciously or unconsciously, we
have been " workers together with God."  Our names,
but not the results of our deeds, will be forgotten on
earth. If duty really prompted us, they will be enshrined
in eternity, as of them who counted life less valuable than
man's welfare. Great upward strides this nation has taken
since we were mustered in as soldiers. Animated by a
holy idea, God has given us his "mercies of reoccupation." We reoccupy territory wrenched from us, principles buried beneath party and prosperity, and the hope
and sympathy of the world. Death, anticipating the tardy
officer, has mustered out many of our number. What
reck we of that? Life is given to advance truth. Have
not our dead, in their brief lives and noble endings, further advanced truth than will the fourscore years of them
who now sneeringly ask, as if their coward.hearts had
taught them aright in refusing to defend common privi



376         LIFE MWITH THE FORTY-NINTHI
leges, "I suppose you have got enough of war?"  Yes,
we have had enough of war. We have seen its horrors,
and would not willingly gaze on them again; but, only
those who bring home blurred memories, will fail to draw
from our past, fresh incentives to deeds of patriotic selfsacrifice.
Writing my last letter, I will close the list of our dead.
Southern foes have followed many to their peaceful
homes, and some have already closed their campaign in
the quiet of Berkshire graves. Over others, and not a
few, the drawn sword hangs. I fear in vain are the
prayers and loving services. That sword must fall again
and again. Freedom's full ransom  price has not been
paid. New graves yawn for failing comrades. Berkshire must see the dying agonies, to enter into fuller sympathy with'the struggle that is not only to restore our
Union, but to complete our liberty. I may revise these
letters'for the press. If so, my great regret will be, that
I have had such limited materials for the obituaries. I
have done none of'our dead more than justice. Ignorance has prevented me doing justice to many. Uniform
goodness presents few salient points for the biographer;
so, of some, all I could gather was, they were good men
and true.
Franklin W. Harmon (D), farmer, from Monterey, aged
twenty-one years, died, at the house of G. Robinson, in
Pittsfield, August 27th, of diarrhcea. Though away from
home, his last hours were surrounded with tender care. I
had no personal acquaintance with him, but Lieut. Tucker
responded to my query, " What kind of a man and soldier was F. W. Harmon, of your company?"  "None
better in the regiment."
HIenry -R. Clark (B), of Becket, aged twenty-six years,
died, at New Orleans, of diarrhoea, August 22d. He was
wounded in the side, May 27th. He leaves a family
behind him.
Levi I;. Gilmore (F), a farmer boy, from Monterey,




MASSACHUSETTS VOLU-TEERS.           377
aged eighteen years, died at home, August 30th. I believe he was taken sick after his return.
John W. Burghardt (D), aged twenty-four years, farmer,
from Barrington, was taken with fever.at Cairo, and died
at this place, at the house of H. Webster, who was, I
believe, a stranger to our comrade, but watched over him
as a brother.
Patrick Downing (I), aged eighteen, from Mitteneaque,
died yesterday, of diarrhoea. He was a steady, moral
man, and a first-rate soldier.
William F. Burnett (K), a Florida farmer, aged thirty
years, died in Louisiana after we left, of diarrhcea. His
captain speaks of him as a " splendid fellow," a steady
man, a good soldier, and a Christian. On our leaving, he
said, "If I can only get home!" God was even then
opening to him the gates of an eternal home.. The head
of a family, he yearned once more to see that family
before entering into rest. The loving Master ordered
otherwise. Oh! how often that cry has gone up from
our crowded hospitals, "If I can only get home!" ANow,
that I am at home, it rings in my ears as if in reproach
for having left the dying.
I turn from our graves to the living. Receptions, in
the form of suppers, pic-nics, &c., have greeted our boys
all over the county. It seems as if the heart of Berkshire,
wrapped up as it was in the Forty-ninth,yearned to burst
forth, that her returned sons might see h.ow proud she is
of them. The citizens of Barrington are very justly attached
to Company D, and Mrs. Bigelow's bountiful and tasty
supper, so characteristic of that lady, did not satisfy them;
so they selected Lieutenants Tucker and Siggins as true
representatives of a choice company to receive further
expressions of their grateful appreciation. The former
gentleman, too proud of the evidence of his being deemed
worthy to suffer in the cause of freedom, to nmourn that
the hard chances of war fell on him, received a handsome
service of plate.




37 8        LIFE WITH THE FORTY-MNITH
The following letter will explain itself.'I know not its
author, but the happiness of its composition is only
equalled by the munificence of the fa-vor inclosed. tJnexpectedly, the gallant, maimed leader of our forlorn
hope reached home; so this epistle, with its rich burden
of near a thousand dollars, and its richer burden of a
thousand sympathies, was placed in his hands instead of
in the mail:
"GT. BARRINGTON, August 10, 1863.
",Lt. SIGGINS, Co. D, 49th Reg. Mass. Vols.:
" Dear Sir-Your friends here have watched with intense
interest the conduct of the Forty-ninth during the recent
campaign in Louisiana.  Naturally, they have thought
more particularly of Company D; and they are proud to
say that their hopes and highest aspirations have been
most nobly realized by the heroic gallantry of that company. We have lealrned, with feelings of deep sadness,
that the hard fortunes of battle have fallen heavily upon
yourself. Your courageous and stern devotion to duty
as an American citizen soldier, during that terrible conflict of the 27th of May last, we can never forget. You
are far from us; we cannot nurse you, we cannot give
you the cheering word or grasp of friendship and heartfelt sympathy. We must do something for you and yours.
Do accept the inclosed as a token, though a very inadequate one, of our pride in your conduct and sympathy in
your misfortune, as fiankly and heartily as we tender it.
Hoping for your speedy return to your friends at home,
we remain most respectfully and sincerely,;" YOUR FRIENDS."
We find it pleasant to be at home. We can go to bed
when we please, and, what is far more pleasurable, get up
when we please. Who has not learned the luxury of the
little cat-naps between daybreak and sunrise, when you
are just enough awake to know that you are asleep, has




MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.         3 7 9
not drunk the elixir of life. In those most witching
hours, we have been so used to the disturbance of the
reveille, as to be tempted to begin that word with a " D,"
instead of an " R."  Prudence, leading Wealth in her
train, says get up at once, but now we " don't see it."
Draining the goblet of sleep at one swallow will do for
the soldier, but the returned veteran has heard that sipping lengthens enjoyment, and he means to give it a
trial. Away in Dixie, we used to get up much pathos
over the "little ones," but when they crawl over their
mother, early in the morning, to your side of the bed,
and having satisfied themselves that you have a right
there, that you are really "'papa," begin to beat a
"reveille" of pats and kisses, accompanied with experiments on your head, you think it very funny the first
time; but it soon loses its novelty, and you are in doubt
whether it is any improvement on the "Dooty, dooty,
dooty calls you," of our quondam chief bugler, Baker,
of Company H. After lying on planks and Mother Earth
for near a year, feathers were so hard to be borne, that
divorces " a mensa," if not " et toro," were only forestalled by the forthcoming of mattresses.
The officers, with your humble servant, have had a
busy week of it, fixing up our accounts and trying to make
two and one count four, or three and five count seven.
The latter is just as desirable as the former, for the
authorities care about exactness of figures and accuracy
of accounts more than a few hundred garments or cartridges. Mr. Brewster has justly deserved the name of
"Honest Quartermaster," but sickness hlas compelled hin
to shirk the work on me; and for a like reason, Howard
and Northup, who never deserted the post of duty, have
failed to aid in overcoming this Sebastopol of " Abstracts
and Vouchers." Dashes failed at Port Hudson; this, also,
can only be reduced by siege. The happy Lieatenants
roam round the streets, hob-nobbing with friends, thanking Fortune that bullets did not promote them to cap



380           LIFE' WITH THE FORTY-NrNTH
taincies and settling of accounts. Kangaroo-like, we find
the "tail of the business" the most troublesome part.
Patriotism might allow us a little rest, but a big pile of
"greenbacks" is at the end, and only at the end of the
job.
In concluding this series of letters, I send you an abstract of our statistics:
No. of men brought home,.. 652    Men sent home sick,........ 51
No. of officers "    ".. 24    Men missing,..............  2
Men discharged,............ 56    Men died of disease,....... 82
Men deserted,.......... 32    Men died of wounds,....... 32
Men left sick at New Orleans, 12    Casualties in battle,.......132
Men    "  at Cairo,......  1    Commissioned officers killed, 2
Men    "  at Cleveland, 0., 7         "        " wounded, 12
Free now to do what other citizens may, to obey only
what our judgment or conscience approves, we take our
unobtrusive places in life. Our privileges will never
again seem  common.  We have been where the price
was paid. One additional privilege we have secured —I
value it more than gold —we have the right to say before
all, ay, in the very centre of the bereaved: "This war
pays. The victory, as sure to come as that the God
of Justice lives, will be worth more than all it will cost."
"For whether on the gallows high,
Or in the battle's van,
The noblest place for man to die
Is Where he dies for man."




APPENDIX.
ROLL OF FIELD AND STAFF OFFICERS OF THE FORTY-NINTH
MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
W. F. BARTLETT,              Colonel.
S. B. SUMNER,                Lieutenant-Colonel.
C. T. PLUNKETT,              Major.
F. WINSOR,                   Surgeon.
A. R. RICE,                  Assistant-Surgeon.
J. B. REYNOLDS,                  " 
* B. C. MIFFLIN,             Adjutant.
F. A. FRANCIS,               Acting Adjutant.
H. B. BREWSTER,              Quartermaster.
NON-COMMISSIOnED STAFF.
A. J. MOREY,                 Hospital Steward.
H. J. WYLIE,                 Sergeant-Major.
G. E. HOWARD,                Quartermaster-Sergeant.
H. H. NORTHUP,               Commissary-Sergeant.
E. W. STEADMAN,              Drum-Major.
* Detached.




382                           APPENDIX.
ROLL OF COMPANY A, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Weller, I. C., Captain.              Hufneagle, F.
~Clark, G. W., First Lieutenant.      Horton, W. H.
Francis, F. A., First    "          $Joyner, D. W.
Reed, G.,  Second    "               Jones, S. R.
Howe, A. C., Sergeant.               U Jones, W.
Adams, C. P.,            "Kittle, J.
Greber, D.,      "                   Kendall, C. E.
Hazzard, C. J.,   "                    imball, J.
Rogers, J. B.,                       Landon, E. A.
Biety, T.,    Corporal.             I Lathrop, F. B.
*Bull, J. B.,    "                    Le Barnes, G. E.
Priestly, J.,                       II Lewis, A.
Barnes, E. D.,                       Merry, J. C.
Kearn, G. H.,                        Marshall, J.
Reed, L. J.,    "                    Malconib, J.
Daily, M. F.,                        Miller, H.
Scace, J. B.,                        McCoy, M.
Merion, A.
Privates.               Merion, L.
f Allen, J. H.                        Maxwell, J.
Abbe, M. L.                         $Noble, S. G.
Aldrich, C. S.                       Nicholas, W.
Bassett, J. W.                       Neuber, E.
Bailey, J. F.                        O'Brien, W.
Bills, H.                           tPlatt, C. E.
Bryce, J.                            Packard, J. K.
~Blake, F. V.                         Reed, W.
Bayne, W. H.                         Rucktashell, H.
Burkett, W. L.                       Reehl, H.
Bogard, R.                           Rairdon, H.
Bailey, W. H.                        Rairdon, T.
Brockway, A. C.                      Rogers, J.
Burt, 0. D.                          Robbins, H. M.
Brooks, F.                           Root, H. L.
Coleman, C. A.                      ~Russell, E. F.
Cleman, W.                           Stupka, W.
Clark, W. E.                         Smart, J.
Clark, J. B.                         Swart, J. W.
Colt, M. R.                          Shaw, W.
*Davis, L. M.                         T'raylor, W.
Daniels, P.                          Tnggey, W.
Drew, T.                            ~Ti]lottson, W. E.
Dunlap, T.                           Vandeblurgh, C. B.
Ende, E.                            tVideto, C.
Fuller, G. W.                        Watkins, C. B.
Grewe, H.                            Warner, H. C.
~Grant, A. A.                         Watkins, W. H.
~Handley, M.                          Wiedman, J.
Holland, G. A.                       Wells, C. H.
Hall, T. E.                          Weisse, A.
~1ubbard, L. F.
* Killed in battle. t Died of wounds. $ Died of disease.  ~ Discharged.
II Deserted.




APPENDIX.                              353
ROLL OF COMPANY B, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Garlick, C. R., Captain.            $Denslow, J.
Kniffin, C. W., First Lieutenant.    Darley, G.
Noble, R. R., Second    "            Fuller, C. R.
Jennings, 0. W., Sergeant.           Furrow, W. A.
Arnold, J.,        "                 Fillio, E.
Bliss, A. F.,      "                *Fitzgerald, G.
Burbank, II. S.,   "                 Francis, J. A.
Boynton, C. S.,                      Gannon, T.,Pierce, E. W., Corporal.            *Grippen, H. E.
tlRossiter, S. H.,                   ~Green, T.
Phelps, H. P.,                       Goodell, M.
Nourse, I.,      "Glead, W. J.
*Gamwell, J. M., " *Heins, C.
Burlingham, H.,  "Hamilton, C. E.
Wood, G. M.,                         Hinman, W. II.
Wood, 0. L.,                         Hinman, C. C.
Davis, H. H.,    "                  Hathaway, A. H.
Hoafnyre, S.
Privates.              tJourdan, J. A.
Adams, W. EK.                        Lynch, C. D.
Arnold, J. A.                        Lynch, E. E.
~Arnold, S.                           Linen, W.
Ashburn, W.                          Lee, H. E.
Belcher, A.                          Lyman, J.
4Belcher, F.                          Middlebrook, A. S.
Barrett, G. N                        Merchant, W.
Barnes, C. H.                        Markham, C.
Billings, A. M.                      Markham, A.
Bliss, W. D.                         Moore, J. E.
Bliss, R. K.                        tMaranville, A. H.
Burlingham, H.                      4Morgan, W. B.
Brown, G. W.                         Martin, E. M.
Barnes, A. V.                        Noonan, T.
Bennett, S. H.                       Nichols, H. C.
$Babbitt, G. W.                       Rossiter, A.
Bailey, W. W.                       tRossiter, W. W.
Babbitt, W. S.                       Simmons, E. J.
Broga, C. T.                         Stevens, J.
Brown, E.                            Sherman, D.
Boice, W.                           ~Smith, N. B.
Beckwith, C. B.                      Stearns, E. A.
Cole, R.                             Sturtevant, S. A.
Caldwell, G.                         Slosson, F.
Chapman, A. L.                       Thayer, R. L.
Carey, J.                            Van Brainer, A.
Codding, E.                         ~Van Volkenburgh, A.
Collyer, C.                         tWheeler. H.
Cornell, J. A.                      ~Wilson, F.
Carter, G. G.                        Whipple, J. L.
tCook, C. H.                          Werden, G.
~Codding, A. D.:Wheeler, A. H.
$Clark, H. R.                        *Wentworth, H. D.
* Killed. t Died of womds.    Died of disease. ~ Discharged.




384                            APPENDIX.
ROLL OF COMPANY C, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Lingenfelter, G. R., Captain.        Johns, H. T.
Foster, D. B., First Lieutenant.     Jones, A.
~Wells, W. W., Second  "              Kelley, H.
Strong, J. iN.,;    "             King, E.
Goddard, L. W., Sergeant.            Kittredge, F.
Brooks, C. H.,    "                 ~Kittredge, W. C.
Temple, E. L.,                        lnight, J. N.
Dwyer, J..                           Knox, F. M.
Nash, E. P.,                         Lee, J. H.
Cranston, W. H., Corporal.          ~Lelanid, W. C.
Haskins, F. H.,    "                 Loomis, W. E.
*Griswold, A.,      "                ~Mack, L.
KIin,, E.,         "                ~Malally, J.
lFrenlch, E: N.,    "                 Matteson, M. a.
Wade, W. W.,                         McCann, P.
Warren, F. E.,                       McCarty, J.
Phillips, T. G.,                     McDonald, J.:Dewey, A. M.,      "                 Merry, E. F.
Merry, H. N.
Privates.               Moore, II.
Baker, R. H.                         Murray, 0.
Bastianello, J. E.                   Newton, I. J.
Bowles, J. W.                        Noble, J.
Braumwalder, D.                      Olin, J. H.
Bristol, G. A.                      n Olinger, C.
Brown, A. W.                        *Parker, T. F.
gBrown, J. L.                         Parsons, H. P.
Burnham, O. E.                       Pierce, B. F.
Campbell, II. J.                     Root, E. P.
Camp, J. R.                          Scott, T. A.
n Carrissey, E.                       Silk, M.
Clark, A. L.                        tSmith, A.
Connor, T.                          I Smith, H.
Cook, J. L.                         *Stelfax, W.
Cummings, N.                         Stowell, H. E.
Downs, E.:Stowell, W. W
Dudley, C.                           Stetson, N. W.
Edwards, A. L.                       Sturtevant, H. W.
Farley, M.                           Stevens, J.
Farling, H.                          Tifft, S. W.
H Farrall, L.                         Tilton, T.
Fay, S. N.                           Tower, C. R.
Field, G. W.                         Tucker, E. A.
Gallup, H. C.                        Wade, B. D.
Hodge, G. H.                        ~Wells, A. W.
Hummel, J. W.                        Wilcox, R. H.
Jaques, W. S.                        Wells, J. H.
* Killed.      Died of disease.     ~ Discharged.    I Deserted.




APPENDIX.                            385
ROLL OF COMPANY D, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Chaffee, S. J., Captain.           *Hensey, T.
Tucker, J., First Lieutenant.       Coffing, C. F.
~Morey, H. G., Second Lieutenant.   Andrews, G. A.
siggins, T.,                        Wilcox, B. B.
Gilbert, W. S., Sergeant.          Dresser, J. A.
Parker, J. K.,    "                 Burghardt, J. W.
Mansir, H. W.,   "                  Hubbard, E. N.
Murray, E. H.,                      Harmon, F. W.
May, (. C.,                         Wilcox, H. F.
Odenwaldt, W., Corporal.            Shook, E. H.
Fowler, H. R.,                     Donahue, J.
Tucker, H. R.,                      Heacox, D.
Dresser, J. A.,                     Wilcox, L V.
Evans, J. W.,                       Morse, B. F.
Toby, E.,                           Luka, H.
Bristol, H. A.,                     Seymour, E.
Hughes, T. H.,   "                  Fitzgerald, J. W.
Luddington, H. W.
Privates.              Deland, F. N.
Adams, J. H.                        Shelly, B.
Broderick, M.                       Evans, J. W.
Come, P.                            Nettleton, D. S.
~Bangs, C. G(.                      *Reynolds, M. S.
Broderick, M.                       Mullany, J.
Parsons, E. W.                      Van Deusen, J.
JBarry, M.                           Beach, M. S.
Curtis, J. H.                       Latham, S. H.
Parsons, W. H.                      Latham, A. S.
Steinhardt, A.                      Brett, C. W.
Conners, T.                         Brainard, A. M.
*Bracken, M.                         McCurdy, R. F.
~Lewis, W.                           Decker, M.
+Yager, G.                           Devany, P.
Bailey, A. H.                       Loring, L. A.
Warner, A. S.                       Loop, A. A.
Moore, R. H.                        Shutts, C. W.
~Neumaster, H.                       Luddington, E. C.:Kolby, G.                          tComstock, A. R.
Luddington, C. B.                   Winchell, J.
Bump, W. E.                         Godson, J.:Bills, S. C.                        Church, C. G.
Chapin, C. C.                       Bills, G.
McGowen, J.                         Campion, J.
IWeizant, C.                         Phillips, J. P.
French, C. H.                      ILuddington, J. H.
Thomas, J.                          Hunt, W.
Seymour, J. A.                      Winters, H.
Ramsey, L.                          McGrath, J.
Lewis, H. H.                       IRyan, J.
Dearing, M. H.                     ~Ward, L.
Murray, H. E.
* Killed. t Died of wounds. S Died of disease. ~Discharged. I Deserted.
17




386                            APPENDIX.
ROLL OF COMPANY E, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Train, H. D., Captain.               Hinton, J. E.
Sherman, R. T., First Lieutenant.,   Hollenbeck, N.
Sissons, H. D., Second    i"        tHolmes, H. L.
Tuttle, M. H, Sergeant.              Hyde, H. D.
Stannard, P. K.,   "                 Jackson, J.
Schutt, M. M.,    "                  Joyner, E. S.
Keyes, L. P.,     "                  Joyner, H. C.
Parsons, G. l.,                      Lampson, H. W.
~Karner, W. J., Corporal.             Lawrence, W. H
Booth, E. L.,                        Lee, C.
Boardman, D.,':Lindsey, L.
Karner, W. G.,   "                   Little, A.
Wood, J. H.,  Little, F.
I)ewey, C. o., 0                     Loomis, A.
Pallentier, G. H.,"                  Loring, J. B.
Palmer G. W., W                      McCarty, M.
Arnold, F..,   "                    McCormick, J.
Traft, R. L.,    "'Mallaly, T.
Maxwell, W.
Prisvate.               Miller, J.
Adams, H. D.                         Murphy, W.
Amstead, W.                         ~O'Brien, J.
Bignel, C.                           Palmer, G. W.
Branan, L.                           Palmer, H. W.
Brayne, J.                           Parsons, A. H.
Brennison, C.                        Patterson, D. C.
Brett, A.                            Platz, J.
Callender, G. E.                     Reapy, J.
Campbell. L.:Rhoades, C.
~Carroll, H. M,:Rhoades, H. D.
Chapin, A. W.                        Root, G.
Chapin, N. C.                         Roraback, M.
Chapin, E. W.                        Sage, G. W.
Clark, A. W.                         Seeley, D.
Clark, G. W.                         Slater, S.
Clark, W. J.                         Smith, A. M.
1 Collins, T.                         Smith, J. M.
Cowles, A. N.                        Stannard, E. R.
Decker, G.                           Stevens, G. H.
Ensign, E. E.                        Stevens, J. J.
Ferry, A.                            Thatcher, C. F.
Fogarty, W.                         *Van Deusen, L.
Foley, D.                            Van Deusen, E.
~Foote, B. C.                         Ward, J. C.
Ford, J.                             Webb, D. G.
~Gorham, L.                           Webb, J. H.
Garland, O.;Webster, N.
IIarford, N.                         Wilber, W. L.
Hatch, W. H.                         Williams, C. K.
Hedger, L.                           Winters, W. E.
*Hewins, H. S.                       tTurgeon, C.
Hewins, S. J.                       I Wincheil, N.:Hinman, E. S.
* Killed. t Died of wounds. t Died of disease. ~ Discharged. I Deserted.




APPENDIX.                              38'7
ROLL OF COMPANY F, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Morey, B. A., Captain.               Haskell, D.
Dresser, E. T., First Lieutenant.    Harrington, H. R.
~Sweet, G. H., Second   H" arris, A.
Doolittle J.,   "     "              Huggins, M. S.
*Nichols,'M., Sergeant.              Johnson, A.
Silva, A P.,                         Jones, H. R.
Nettleton, C. L., "                 ~Knapp, H. A.
Back, T.,       "                    Kellogg, L. F.
Judd, T. M.,     ".Latham, W. C.
Palmer, W. H., Corporal.             Lawless, J.
jCase, N. M.,                         Lynch, J. D.
Flint, A. J.,                        Lamont, D.
May, H. S.,                          May, G. T.
Wright, L. W.,                       Morgan, W.
Videtto, C. H.,   "                  Morse, E. M.
Bradley, G. T.,   "                    orey, A. J.
Steadman, T.,                       ~Norton, W. K.
Townsend, C. J., " Nettleton, A. C.
O'Neil, J.
Pri'vates.             O'Brien, D.
Alexander, G. W.                    SOlds, M.
Blake, H. W.                         Pearl, W. N.
Bigelow, A. S.                       Perry, E. F.
Barnes, G. L.                       tPomeroy, M.
Barnes, T.                           Pomeroy, C.
Babcock, C. t1.                      Peck, S. E.
*Bradley, E. 1.                       Potter, G. B.
Comstock, G. H.                     ~Palmer, F. A.
Cooper, G. W.                        Spoor, A. J.
Crosbvy, J.                          Sperry, H.
Curtis, M. H.                        Sergeant, J. E.
Caffrey, J.                          Sprague, C.
Clary, R. E.                         Steadman, H. C.
Curtin, C.                           Steadman, E. W.
IlDambose, H.                        Steadnman, J. L.
Downs, I. B.                         Thompson, M. A.
*Fuller, W.                           ITwining, E.
$Fargo, W. R.                         Twining, S.
Fay, B. S.                           Townsend, C. J.
Gardner, H. J.                       Underwood, H. M.
$Gilmore, L. H.                       Wilson, S. W.:Gibbs, S.E..                        Woods, W.
Green, H. C.                         Wood, H. P.
Haiman, M.                           Wright, H. W.
Hall, P.                             Williams, G. R.
HuIlt, R.                            Whipple, E. 0.
Heath, F.                            Wheelock, H. A.
Heath, A. B.                         Young, J. S.
Horton, B. CG.                      II Gay, C. A.
~Horton, C. H.                        Hulet, 0.
* Killed.    $ Died of disease.    ~ Discharged.     I Deserted.




388                            APPENDIX.
ROLL OF COMPANY G, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Parker, F. W., Captain.              Gore, F.
Harvie, R. B., First Lieutenant.     Green, W.
Lyons, H. M., Second   "             Ih Hussey, J.
Southwick, G. T., Sergeant.          Herman, C. B.
Torrey, D. W.,                       Hillard, J.
Lyons, G. W.,      "                 Hekox, S.
Noyes, D. W.,      "                 Howland, E. J.
Nordaby, R. T.,                      Ingraham, E.
Glasier, H. A., Corporal.            Leonard, J. M.
Waters, C.,      "                   McGee, J.
Marsh, O. H.,                        Montgomery, U. H. H.L
Garlick, E. W.,                      Miller, W. C.
Davis, E. J.,    "                   Murphy, T.
Crandall, H. C.,   "                ~May, H. H.
Upton, A. H.,    "                   Martindale, M.
Fowler, S.,      "                  ~Maynard, W, G.'Niles, B.
Privates.' Nelson, J. W.
AlIdrich, A.                          Noyes, J. W.
Adams, J. W.                         Orembee, A. F.
Avy, J.                              Porter, L. W.
Babcock, II. W.                      Parson, W.
tBeebe, Z.                            Quackenbush, J.
Brown, H. N.                         Ueed, A. W.
Bennett, S. B.                      U yan, M.
Briggs, J. N.                        Rosevelt, L
Brown, W. S.                         Robinson, S. P.
Crosier, W. S.                       Raymond, E. H.
Cox, S. W.                           Robertson, F. G.
Clark, G. S.                         Reed, N. T.
Courtney, J.                         Reynolds, M.
$Courtwright, C. G.                   Reynolds, J. F.
Carde, F.                            Ray, D.
Colwell, IL                          Sampson, W.
Curley, P.                           Sweet, E. B.
Clark, D. D. D.'Sweet, T. J.
Cobleigh, E.                         Smith, A. H.
Clegg, J. S.                         Sneedley, E. G.
Cheesboro, D.                        Southwick, D. W.
Cheesboro, C.                        Sheldon, H.
Cheesboro, A. W.                   Il Smith, G.
Cheesboro, A. W.                    ~Snook, J. D.
Daniels, L. H.                       Stockings, J.
Dodge, G. W.                         Tower, E. O.
Dornman, W. B.                       Toney, C. E.
Dalrymple, 0.                        Welton, W. A.
Dillworth, D.                       ~Wood, J. H.
Estes, B. C.                         Weeks, G.
Fern, P.                             Wilbur, C. A.
Gray, W. F.                          White, H.
Gallusha, J. M.
$ Died of sickness.    ~ Discharged.      J Deserted.




APPENDIX.                              389
ROLL OF COMPANY H, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Shannon, A. V., Captain.             Madden, J.
*Deming, B. D., First Lieutenant.     Marfield, S.
Smith, D. W. S., Second Lieutenant.    Merrill, S.
*Wolcott, J. B., Sergeant.            McNamara, A.
Bosworth, M. J.,  "                  McGinty, J.
Phelps, G. A.,    "                  Munson, AL
Hitchcock, A.,                       Mlnlaly, J.
Taylor, N.,      "                   Northway, J.
Whittaker, A., Corporal.            U Obey, A.
Bliss, E.,       "                   O'Donnell, M. S.
Crouch, J. P.,    "                  Osborne, G.
Sears, P. H.,    "                   Parsons, W.
Tless, W.,                           Parsons, H.:Dcming, W.,                          Pratt, G. F.
Quackenbush, J.
Privates.              hiathbone, D.
*Allell, A.                           Richardson, C. N.
Allen, F.                            Richardson, H.
Alexander, A. A.                     Richards, J. M.
Baker, G. S.                         Rowe, II.
~Belden. A.                           Seymour, S.
tBcach, H. L.           t:Seymour, F. P.
Bliss, C.                           tSmith, E.
Bliss, 1I. J.                       ~Smith, J. J.
Bowen, L.                           ~Smith, M.
Brown, W. S.                         Snow, A.
Brown, A. W.                         Spring, H.
Burke, D.                            Stone, G. R.
Calkins, J. H.                       Sturgess, G. E.
Cady, G.                             Thompson, S. W.
Doton,.T.                           Vincent, J..Dennison, L. L.                      White, H.
Fulller, W. F.                       Wheelock, H. A.
Foote, A.                            Ward, J.
Fasdick. J. H.                       Wrilght, C.
Green, W.                            Earles, F.
Heath, A.                           1I Cline, G.
THogarn, W.                          Gregory, G.
Howland, E.                          Daniels, M.
*Ingersoll, E.                        Sariner, J.
Keough, M.                           Wood, J.
Knickerbocker, G.                    Norton, T.
Loomis, H.                           Carroll, J.
~Daniels, M.
* Killed.  t Died of wounds.: Died of disease.  ~ Discharged.  I Deserted.




390                           APPENDIX.
- S]COLL OF COMPANY I, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEERS.
September 1, 1863.
Rennie, Z. C., Captain.              Noble, J.
Kellogg, L. S., First Lieutenant.    McDaniel, W. ML
Nichols, W. A, Second Lieutenant.: Nea, F.
Marsh, W. A., Sergeant.:Owens, D.
Plank, O. H.,                        Owens, N.
McDonald, E.,                        Prowd, W.
Geer, G. L.,    "Proutt, L.
Beeher, J.,     "                    Powers, J.
~Rockwell, C..,                      Perkins, W. S.:Tuller, J. M.,  Corporal             Packard, W. H.
Abbott, C. V.,    "                  Rogers, J. B.
Smith, A.,        "                   egar, H. M.
Kelly, J.,                           Sedgwick, D. A.
Inall, C. I.,     "                  Smith, A. C.
Spring, M.,                          Turner, E. B.
Van Denburgh, R., "                  Thayer, E. C.
* Winchell, D.,    "                  Vosburgh, H.
iVautriene, P.
Privates,               Walker, P.
McKenna, J.                          Wilcox, (i W.
Wilson, E. A. D.                    ~Wilcox, E. H.
Barnum, Z.                           Winter, J.
Hizler, J. C.                       jWheldon, W. E.
Avery, P.                            Wilson, E.
Bastean, E.                          Wilson, W.:Burrows, S.                          Wink, C. E.
Beckley, J.                          Allen, D. B.
Brown, E.                            Allen, I. N.
~Chamberlain, W.                     ~Knell, C.
Calaghan, J.                         Carpenter, S. A.
Crozier, L.                          Carpenter, A.
tDowning, P.                         jCressor, J.
Farnum, A. S.                        Collins, H. A.
Farnum, A.                           Deland, E.
Foster, 0. R.                        Higgins, I.
Gallipeaux, J.                       Mason, E. L.
Groat, R.                            Dresser, G.'W.
Hatch, S. E.                        I Staples, S. S.
lTaskel, N. W.                       Seeman, D.
Jeffers, L. W.                       Merrills, J. W.:Joray, F.                           ~Mallinson, M.
Kellet, S. S.                       ~Tobin, D.
Lovela;nd, F.                       I Howard, A. W.
Moirgan, A.                         ~Mason, J.
~McDonough, T.                       ~Wilson, E. A. D.
~Mettis, J.
* Killed. tDied of wounds.;Died of disease. ~Discharged. I Deserted.




APPENDIX.                               391
ROLL OF COMPANY K, FORTY-NINTH MASS. VOLUNTEEIS.September 1, 1863.
Weston, B., Capta:in.                Devine, B.
~Taft, 1R. C., First Lieutenant.       Decker, M.
t. ludd, I. E., First Lieutenant.      Dunham, J. E.
Gleason, S. B., Second Lieutenant.    De Forrest, J. C.
White, TJ. L., Sergeant.              I)ecker. J., Jr.
Rising, E. J.,                        Funk, D.
*Warner H. E.,  "                     *Funk, L.
Clark, C. B.,                        Funk, W., Jr.
I)alzell, D.,                         Fullerton, S. M. G.
Welton, E. A., Corporal.              Failfield, J. H.
tPhelps, R. E.,                        Graham, J. A.
Calrey, T.,     "                     Hathaway, L.
Lunce, E.,     H" analon, T.
Rtobbins, D. M.,  "                   Hennessey, W.
\N heeler, G. H.,                     Hart, C. W.
Parmerlee, H. A.,                     Hollister, G.
tStetson, N. B.,   "                   Hunt, II.
Privates.              Johnston, J. H.
Ashley, H.                           ~Johnston, W. A.
Allen, G. W.:Leonard, W. D.
tBliss. D. S.                          Moseley, L.
Bradley, J.                           Moseley, J.
1Burnett, W. F.                       I Mahoney, J.
Bartlett, S. C.                       Maloney, T.
Brazer, I.                            Morrison, H.
jBrown, O. P.                         ~Noteware, F.
lB3artholomew, C.                     ~Powell, S.!Bicknell, 0. A.                      Roys, J. iM.
Beach, D. C.                          Sears, J. S.
Burlingame, Z. M.                     Sheldon, G. L.
Brocha, S.                           *Shaw, T. C.
Bidwell, J. W.                        Thompson, A. F.
ICain, H. W.                           Tinney, J.
Carman, B.                            Tower, C. L.
Curtiss, J.                           Taft, L. D.
"Campbell, G.                          Tower, S.
Campbell, D.                          Thompson, G. E.
Chadwick, P. B.                       Torrey, R. W.
Chapin, G. B.                         Van Tassel, FI.
Chapin, H. B.:Van Densen, D.
Carlcy, S. W.                        ~Van Deusen, N.
Culver, P.                            Wolfinger, J. J.
Clark, H. F.:Wolfinger, G.
Decker. H.:Webster, S. R.'Decker, J.                           Wheaton, W. R.
Dowd, S.
* Killed. t Died of wounds.    Died of disease. ~ Discharged. I Deserted.