March 25, 2.30, P. M.
Three quarters of an hour ago I was dreaming pleasantly of a
prayer meeting, when a rebel bombshell burst somewhere in the immediate
vicinity of the town. Presently another and another, then the reply of our guns
and then the "long call." It seemed as if we were at last fairly in for
it. Dr. Minor came up to ask if we were to trust Providence to care for our
hospital. I advised him to go back and assure them all that the Lord was on the
side of our big guns. Meanwhile I crawled on to the top of our observatory and
watched the firing until the secesh sent a shell, which burst in the air and
sent a fragment whistling above my head with a note so shrill that I began to
think of Gabriel's trumpet and crawled down again. Presently the cannonading
ceased. I do not think it was chivalric for the rebels to wake us so early,
but, I remember, we are not now in South Carolina. The cocks are crowing
unconcernedly and I'll to bed again.
Evening.
Several shells came into town before our guns gave the
quietus. A section of one struck within a few feet of the Colonel and Major, in
front of Headquarters. The hospital of the 8th Maine was perforated by a piece
of one, and two dwelling houses were terribly bored. One went through two
occupied chambers. A husband and wife lost, respectively, a coat and a skirt,
which were hanging on a rocking chair, and, collectively, a portion of the
mosquito bar over the bed. Shells make very ugly looking holes through houses.
It seems remarkable that no one was injured, although to me not much more so
than that so few are injured in thunder storms, of which this scene forcibly
reminded me.
This morning we made a reconnoissance in force. One of our
S. C. V. companies took charge of the rifled ten pounder on the platform car,
while the Colonel and Major advanced on the line of the railroad with four
other companies of our regiment together with six of the 8th Maine and 6th
Conn. Our Colonel in command. Our boys skirmished on the left of the road and
the others on the right. The rebel pickets galloped off to camp, which has been
moved back ten or twelve miles. When we had advanced about four miles through
the open pine barrens and occasional thick woods, the smoke of a rebel engine
was seen in the distance. Meantime I had hurried through my morning duties, and
at about 12.30 P. M. had overtaken the force. I had not been there more than
twenty minutes before the 64 pound shells began to come down upon us from their
gun on a platform car. Our force had already begun a slow retreat [having
already passed the limit fixed by orders], with repeated halts, when the
conical portion of the first shell (which had exploded above our heads) struck
four of the 8th Maine soldiers, killing two and wounding two, one
slightly and one so that the amputation of the foot is necessary. The firing was
very accurate; first on one side of the road, then on the other a shell would
come singing over and many of them exploded over our heads. Gen. Saxton
believes a special Providence watches over our regiment, and that not a man was
seriously injured today would seem to justify this belief. I saw a whole shell
that did not explode, plough into the sand under the feet of a soldier not six
rods from me, knock his gun out of his hands and his cap off his head, but
before I could get to him he had gathered himself up and was off uninjured.
Dr. Mitchell, of the 8th Maine, and I, were the only mounted
officers out, till the Colonel's horse was sent to meet him on the return. My
"rebel" pranced well and behaved beautifully. We burned several
houses and, as I had not before had the satisfaction, I chose a very new, good
one, and kindled my fire in a costly mahogany sideboard. A portion of the R. R.
track was destroyed, but whether enough to hinder them long in repairs I am not
certain.
After our return, Sergeant McIntyre of Co. G came up to
headquarters to intercede for his friend Thomas Long, a private in the same
company, who had conceived the idea of going alone a dozen miles to destroy by
fire a long trestle work, built through a swamp, over which the cars run.
Thomas Long is a thin, spiritual-looking, unassuming black man, who trusts God.
He has gone on his errand, an errand requiring more real courage and heroism
than has before been manifested in our regiment. Of course he goes disguised,
but he carries with him such evidence of his intention that death would surely
follow his capture. My expectation of seeing him again is very small.
SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts
Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p.
379-80
