NEWPORT News, VA.,
Dec. 1, 1863.
On receipt of my furlough, which came promptly to hand at
the appointed time, I, in company with eight others from the three companies,
left Hill's Point for Massachusetts. I had 25 days at home, a part of which I
used up on the lounge, with chills and fever, and listening to the expressions
of sympathy from callers. Ordinarily, when a person is sick, it is pleasant to
be surrounded by sympathizing friends, but a person with chills and fever does
not want sympathy; that only makes him mad. What he wants is whiskey and
quinine, and the more whiskey the better. I was asked if the disease ever
terminated fatally. I replied that the most provoking thing about it was, there
was not the slightest danger of dying from it. After recovering from the chills
and fever, I enjoyed the balance of my visit very much, and reported back in
New York the next morning after the expiration of my furlough.
Arriving in New York, I went directly to the New England
rooms on Broadway. These rooms are a kind of free hotel for New England
soldiers en route through New York, but will accommodate any others when they
are not full. The rooms well fitted up and there is a spacious loft or hall
which is used for sleeping with 100 or more single cots, on each of which is a
good mattress, pillow, a pair of woolen blankets and white spread. In this room
a man is in attendance day and night to attend to the wants of patrons,
preserve order and look after things generally. The dining hall will seat about
200 persons, and the tables are well supplied with plain, substantial,
wholesome food. Another room is used for a sick room or hospital, and is filled
up few cots and lounges, and the tables are well supplied with books and
newspapers. This room is presided over by a kind-hearted, sympathetic lady, who
was formerly a hospital matron in McClellan's peninsular campaign. Besides,
there is the office and baggage room, where one's knapsack or other baggage is
put away and checked. The owner takes his check and gives no further thought or
care of his baggage until wanted. In addition to these, are all other necessary
conveniences. These rooms were fitted up and are supported by the patriotic
generosity of New Englanders, residents in New York, and many are the thanks
and blessings they receive from their beneficiaries. Here I found Spencer and
Lewis, who were furloughed with me, and who had just arrived. The clerk told us
we must report to a certain quartermaster up town for instructions. We
reported; he examined our papers, endorsed on the backs "reported back all
right and on time," and told us we must report at the transportation
office with a down near the battery park. We reported, and were informed there
was no transportation waiting, but we must report every morning in order to
avail ourselves of the first boat that left.
RECLINING ON OUR MILITARY.
There were 100 or more soldiers waiting transportation to
Newbern, besides hundreds of others for all parts of the army: The officer in
charge of the office would no more than get his coat off and sleeves rolled up,
ready for business in the morning, when we would appear to him. He would get
rid of any of us by a wave of his hand and "No boat for Newbern."
This continued for several mornings, until he became tired of seeing us and
hung a card on the door with “No boat for Newbern.”
One morning the card was off and all hands made a grand
charge inside. He gave us the cheering information that Gen. Foster had moved
his old brigade from Newbern to Fortress Monroe, and he would give transportation
by way of Baltimore to as many of us as belonged to that brigade. No one seemed
to know just what to do, and no reply was made to the statement. After waiting
a few moments, he inquired what we were going to do. As no one spoke, I
ventured the remark that I had received no official information of the removal
of the brigade or of my regiment and until further orders, I thought I had
better stick to the order in my furlough and report in North Carolina. That
seemed to clear away the cloud that hung over the boys, and we were soon on the
street again.
The next morning, however, the clouds thickened again. The
officer said he had reliable information that the 23d, 25th and 27th
Massachusetts and 9th New Jersey regiments, together with the 3d New York
cavalry, were at Fortress Monroe; he was going to give orders for rations and
transportation by way of Baltimore to all those belonging to those regiments,
and we could come in the afternoon and get them. I inquired if he was
authorized to order us to report at Fortress Monroe. That gave him a sort of
blind staggers. He said he was not really, but it would be all right enough,
especially if we were anxious to join our regiments.
I replied, “We are anxious to join our regiments, but as everything
in military has to run in its regular groove, and as order holds good until another
is given, it would hardly look military to be acting on our own judgment and hearsay
stories, and going off across lots, reporting somewhere else than where our
orders say.”
"You seem to be right on your military. Do you always
pay as strict observance to orders?”
“That is the way we have been educated, sir.”
That question settled, we were soon on the pave again.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH A POLICEMAN.
During our long wait for transportation we had a fine chance
of doing the city, an opportunity of which availed ourselves in the most
thorough manner. We visited all places of interest and everywhere that there
was anything to be seen or heard. One day Spencer and I, after a long ramble
over the city, wandered into City Hall park, and feeling rather tired sat down
on the City Hall steps to rest and watch the passing throng. We had not sat
there many minutes when a policeman came along, and pointing to us with his
cane, said: “You can't sit there," and passed along. We regarded that as a
sort of camp rumor and kept our sitting. He presently returned, and coming up
to us in a very imperious manner, said: "How many times do you fellows
want to be told that you can't sit there?" I looked at him, and with all
the innocence and simplicity I could assume, I said: “You see, sir, that
we do sit here.” That shot struck below the water line, and he
then said: “What I mean is, you are not allowed to sit there.” “Ah! in that
case we will remove hence, as you will observe by our raiment that we are preservers,
rather than breakers, of law”
Visit To BARNUM'S.
The outside of Barnum's Museum is always covered with
immense show bills and people have become so accustomed to them that they
attract but little attention, unless it is some new and curious thing he has
got on exhibition. Noticing a picture of an enormous sea lion and railing
glowing descriptions of him in the newspapers, I remarked to Spencer: "We
had better take that in.” Now Barnum’s is a good place to go, as it is a highly
moral show, and inexpensive—twenty-five cents giving one the whole range from
basement to attic. Taking those things into consideration he thought we had
better go, so one evening we went up.
Exchanging our quarters at the office for tickets we were
admitted to the great show. After strolling around awhile and looking at some
of the minor curiosities, we went down into the basement where is located the
aquarium. We soon found the sea lion.
He laid on a large platform with his head towards the
grating and about three feet from it. At the rear end of the platform was a
large tank of water where he could bathe. He was a harmless looking lion enough
and resembled a mule as much as a lion. He looked like pictures I have seen of
the walrus, and laid there, a huge jelly-looking mass apparently dead, but on
close inspection respiration was observable. We tried to start him up, but he
seemed to prefer quiet, and no motion with our arms and caps had the slightest
effect on him. I had an uncontrollable desire to see him go into the tank, and
looked in vain all around the place for something to stir him up with.
Presently a gentleman came along and stopped to look at him. He had an umbrella
and 1 asked him to stir the creature up and see him go into the water. But he
thought he had better not, saying it was probably against the rules for
visitors to disturb him. I said that was probably the case, but we had paid our
money to come into the show and wanted to see all the tricks, and if he would
let me take the umbrella I would stir him up and take the responsibility. But
he declined, and moved on.
A bright thought now struck me; I would fill his eye with
tobacco juice and see what effect that would have. I chewed up a large piece of
tobacco; filling my mouth with the juice and getting a beautiful range on his
left eye, let drive, covering it completely, and to my utter astonishment that
creature never so much as winked. I was dumbfounded at the result of my experiment,
as this was the first creature I had ever seen which had eyes that a little
tobacco juice in them would not make things lively for a few minutes. I can
account for my failure in no other way than that, being a marine animal, there
is probably some kind of film or covering over the eye that protects it from
foreign substances while in the water. Spencer laughed at my discomfiture, and
said perhaps we could find something else I would have better luck
experimenting with.
Strolling around up stairs we came to the mummy cabinet. Now
I like mummies and am always interested in them; they have a habit of minding
their own business the steadiest of any class of people I ever met
with, besides they are always civil to callers and are free from the
disputes, quarrels, gossiping [sic],
slanders and other vices with which our generation is afflicted. They are a
very ancient people, and in their time were doubtless an intelligent and highly
respectable class of citizens, but they don't amount to much now; they are too
far behind the times and I don't think it would be of much use for them to try
to catch up. In this cabinet was quite a large collection and they looked black
and dirty as though they neglected their baths and toilets; they all looked so
much alike it was difficult to distinguish their sex. I think if they could be
taken out and washed and dressed up in fashionable clothing they would make
quite a respectable appearance.
I looked around to find some biographies of these people but
could not. I called the attention of an attendant and inquired of him if there
was any. He replied there was none that he knew of. I then asked: "Is Mr.
Barnum about the place? I should like to see him.” He stated that Mr. Barnum
was away and inquired my business with him. I said I wanted to suggest to Mr.
Barnum that if he would hang a biography on every one of these mummies it would
be the most taking thing he ever had, not excepting the What-is-it. This
attendant somehow didn't seem to get interested in Barnum's interests, and
dodged off out of the way. I pointed out the largest one to Spencer and said:
“That gentleman was once a soldier and did provost duty in the city of Thebes
3000 years ago.” He made no reply but kept looking at it and presently I heard
him muttering to himself: "Can that be possible? Brave old fossil!”
We got up into the exhibition room, near the close of the
play; they were playing the ghost. I should think it might be a good enough
play, but the acting was not all that a connoisseur would accept, but then it
was good enough for soldiers and the price. I thought the ghost illusion was
very cleverly performed, but Spencer said it was tame compared with the Gum
swamp trick.
OFF FOR NEWBERN.
After waiting thirteen days a boat arrived and we were now
off. The boat leaves in the afternoon and all hands go down to the
transportation office to get our orders and say good bye to the genial officer
in command: I noticed that my draft for rations was on the Park barracks. Now I
had a dim recollection and a sort of instinctive horror of those barracks, and
it occurred to me that I had seen down on the Battery park, near the water, a
small building where was kept first class rations, which were dealt out to
officers, and other attaches of the army as department and sutler's clerks and
such like nobility. I suggested to Spencer that we go down there; we could fix
up some kind of a story and perhaps succeed in getting our rations.
Now Spencer is a conscientious young man and objects to
anything that does not dovetail in the exact line of right and honor. He
objected to going, saying we should have to tell some extravagant stories and
then get nothing, and perhaps get ourselves into some trouble. I said we would
make only a plain statement of facts; that we are living in perilous times and
that the end would justify the means.
We went down there and the only regalia the supervisor of
the place had on that denoted any rank in the army was a pair of blue pants;
just what rank he held we were unable to determine by those pants. We showed
him our orders. He looked at them and said: “What are you here for? Go up to
the Park barracks where your orders say.”
“Yes, I know; but we have just come from there; they are all
full up there and are running short of rations; they sent us down here."
“Don't believe a word of it; they have no business to be
short of rations up there and have no business to send you here anyway, and I
don't believe they did.”
“You, sir, have a perfect right to believe just
what you please, but here is an order for rations; the boat leaves in about an
hour and if we don't have the rations we shall not go in her, and if we don't go
it will be somebody's fault."
Thinking perhaps that tracing out faults might prove
unpleasant, he pointed us to a tub of boiled corned beef and a basket of soft
bread, telling is to take as little as would do us. To allay any fears he might
have on that score, we said we did not care to burden ourselves with any
superfluous freight. We not only took the meat and bread he told us to, but
helped ourselves liberally to some boiled ham and raw onions that stood near by
against his most emphatic protest. So, with some lying on our part and considerable
swearing on his part, we succeeded in supplying ourselves with first-class
rations.
When we came out, Spencer said: "I was shocked to hear
you lie so.”
“But I have not been lying."
“Well, then, I should like to know what you would call it ?”
"What I said might possibly be twisted and contorted
into something that would give it the appearance of lying, but I have only made
few positive statements, and as I said before the end justifies the
means."
That statement seemed to satisfy him, and a little while
after we were aboard the steamer Albany, bound for Newbern. Standing on the
quarter-deck as we steamed down the harbor and through the narrows,
We watched the big city with curious eye,
'Till the last towering dome had gone out in the sky.
We arrived at Newbern after a four days passage and reported
to the provost marshal, Capt. Denny of our regiment, who welcomed us back and
gave us the liberty of the city. He informed us the regiment was at Fortress
Monroe, and if we had only known it while in New York, we could have saved
ourselves the trouble of coming here and having to go back.
We were somewhat surprised at this intelligence, and disappointed
at not knowing it while there, and saving ourselves all this unnecessary
trouble and delay. But, however, we must put up with it, and take the next boat
back which leaves for Fortress Monroe.
After a four days' visit here we went aboard the little
steamer Vidette, bound for Fortress Monroe. We had aboard about 200 soldiers
and about 100 Confederate prisoners. We left in the afternoon and the next morning
were at Hatteras inlet. The sea was pretty rough, and in crossing the swash we
fouled with a schooner, carrying away her bowsprit and losing one of our
anchors. The old captain, who by the way was a jolly old fellow, said he never
had so good luck before in getting through the inlet; he had only lost an
anchor and taken off a schooner's bowsprit. As we went past the battery, he
yelled out to them to fish up his anchor against he got back.
The following morning we were at Fortress Monroe and here
learned that our regiment was at Newport News, at the mouth of the James river.
We re-shipped on another boat, and an hour after were receiving the ovations
and congratulations of our comrades, after an absence of nearly two months.
SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the
25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 103-9
