The camp at New
Berne was aroused by the long-roll, by an attack at the bridge, where the
pickets are posted. All our guard were called out. Two men of the 24th M. V.
were killed. The affair was short, but disturbed the camp for the rest of the
night. Our barracks are all done, and we will occupy them as soon as the
regiment gets home.
SOURCE: John Jasper
Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass.
Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 20
OUR FIRST MARCH.
This morning, at four o'clock, we thought the Old Nick was to pay, but soon found it was only the long roll. It would have sounded better if a little later, but we got up just the same, formed in line, marched across the city, and embarked aboard the steamer "Geo. Collins." The old saying about large bodies and their slowness, applied here; we might have slept two hours longer, for it was nine o'clock before we started. The vessel had evidently just returned from a voyage with cattle on board, so all who could, remained on deck. We were well paid, for the scenery for fifteen miles was fine; after that the banks of the river were swampy and dismal. We saw a portion of the old fighting ground of the last year when Mass. troops fought to obtain possession of New Berne.
We passed into the sound about three o'clock, and at dark had not entered the Pamlico river, so supper and bunks were in order. The supper was fair, but "distance lent enchantment to the" smell of the bunks.
SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 16
About midnight, an officer of
some sort rode into camp with some word that was the means of our being routed
out by the "Long Roll," the first time any of us ever heard it. It
appears the "Long Roll" is only sounded when the quickest possible
getting into line in fighting trim is necessary, as when the enemy is about to
pounce upon us, etc. But we didn't hurry. One after another got up and all the
time the officers were shouting, and some of them swearing. I thought they had
all gone crazy. But finally we understood, and then down came our tents. The
quartermaster team rushed up with boxes of guns, which were broken open and the
guns handed out as fast as possible. Ammunition, too, was passed out, and we
were told to load up and defend ourselves. The excitement was so great, and the
ammunition so new to us, about half the guns were loaded with the bullet end
down. The cartridges are a charge of powder, a big long bullet and a piece of
paper. The paper is rolled up with the powder in one end and the bullet in the
other, and to us, in the dark, both ends looked alike. But no great harm was
done, for no enemy appeared. Just what it was all for I don't know now, and
quite likely never will. We got a ration of bread and coffee and with our guns—great
heavy, clumsy things—and our tents added to our already heavy load, started off
on a brisk pace, which was kept up until some began to fall out, completely
exhausted. These were picked up by the quartermaster and commissary wagons, and
so we went for about six miles along the road that is said to lead to
Frederick. Then we halted, and after the stragglers had caught up, started back
again, soon turning off in another direction on another road, and marched for
about the same distance, where we turned into a field, partly level, and the
rest a side hill. We halted when a little way from the road and were told we
were to go into permanent camp there. Baltimore is in plain sight, although it
is some way off. We were so tuckered out by our long tramp in the hot sun and
with the heavy loads on our backs, we were glad to get up our tents, and after
a coffee and bread supper, to turn in and sleep.
SOURCE: Lawrence Van
Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p.
21-2
