At six o'clock this morning the steamer arrived at the wharf
under the walls of Fortress Monroe, which presented a very different appearance
from the quiet of its aspect when first I saw it, some months ago. Camps spread
around it, the parapets lined with sentries, guns looking out towards the land,
lighters and steamers alongside the wharf, a strong guard at the end of the
pier, passes to be scrutinized and permits to be given. I landed with the
members of the Sanitary Commission, and repaired to a very large pile of
buildings, called “The Hygeia Hotel,” for once on a time Fortress Monroe was
looked upon as the resort of the sickly, who required bracing air and an
abundance of oysters; it is now occupied by the wounded in the several actions
and skirmishes which have taken place, particularly at Bethel; and it is so
densely crowded that we had difficulty in procuring the use of some small dirty
rooms to dress in. As the business of the Commission was principally directed
to ascertain the state of the hospitals, they considered it necessary in the
first instance to visit General Butler, the commander of the post, who has been
recommending himself to the Federal Government by his activity ever since he
came down to Baltimore, and the whole body marched to the fort, crossing the
drawbridge after some parley with the guard, and received permission, on the
production of passes, to enter the court.
The interior of the work covers a space of about seven or
eight acres, as far as I could judge, and is laid out with some degree of
taste: rows of fine trees border the walks through the grass plots; the officers'
quarters, neat and snug, are surrounded with little patches of flowers, and
covered with creepers. All order and neatness, however, were fast disappearing
beneath the tramp of mailed feet, for at least 1200 men had pitched their tents
inside the place. We sent in our names to the General, who lives in a detached
house close to the sea face of the fort, and sat down on a bench under the
shade of some trees, to avoid the excessive heat of the sun until the commander
of the place could receive the Commissioners. He was evidently in no great
hurry to do so. In about half an hour an aide-de-camp came out to say that the
General was getting up, and that he would see us after breakfast. Some of the
Commissioners, from purely sanitary considerations, would have been much better
pleased to have seen him at breakfast, as they had only partaken of a very
light meal on board the steamer at five o'clock in the morning; but we were
interested meantime by the morning parade of a portion of the garrison, consisting
of 300 regulars, a Massachusetts volunteer battalion, and the 2d New York
Regiment.
It was quite refreshing to the eye to see the cleanliness of
the regulars — their white gloves and belts, and polished buttons, contrasted
with the slovenly aspect of the volunteers; but, as far as the material went,
the volunteers had by far the best of the comparison. The civilians who were
with me did not pay much attention to the regulars, and evidently preferred the
volunteers, although they could not be insensible to the magnificent drum-major
who led the band of the regulars. Presently General Butler came out of his
quarters, and walked down the lines, followed by a few officers. He is a stout,
middle-aged man, strongly built, with coarse limbs, his features indicative of
great shrewdness and craft, his forehead high, the elevation being in some degree
due perhaps to the want of hair; with a strong obliquity of vision, which may
perhaps have been caused by an injury, as the eyelid hangs with a peculiar
droop over the organ.
The General, whose manner is quick, decided, and abrupt, but
not at all rude or unpleasant, at once acceded to the wishes of the Sanitary
Commissioners, and expressed his desire to make my stay at the fort as agreeable
and useful as he could. “You can first visit the hospitals in company with
these gentlemen, and then come over with me to our camp, where I will show you
everything that is to be seen. I have ordered a steamer to be in readiness to
take you to Newport News.” He speaks rapidly, and either affects or possesses great
decision. The Commissioners accordingly proceeded to make the most of their
time in visiting the Hygeia Hotel, being accompanied by the medical officers of
the garrison.
The rooms, but a short time ago occupied by the fair ladies
of Virginia, when they came down to enjoy the sea-breezes, were now crowded
with Federal soldiers, many of them suffering from the loss of limb or serious
wounds, others from the worst form of camp disease. I enjoyed a small national
triumph over Dr. Bellows, the chief of the Commissioners, who is of the “sangre
azul” of Yankeeism, by which I mean that he is a believer, not in the
perfectibility, but in the absolute perfection, of New England nature which is
the only human nature that is not utterly lost and abandoned — Old England
nature, perhaps, being the worst of all. We had been speaking to the wounded
men in several rooms, and found most of them either in the listless condition
consequent upon exhaustion, or with that anxious air which is often observable
on the faces of the wounded when strangers approach. At last we came into a
room in which two soldiers were sitting up, the first we had seen, reading the
newspapers. Dr. Bellows asked where they came from; one was from Concord, the
other from New Haven. “You see, Mr. Russell,” said Dr. Bellows, “how our Yankee
soldiers spend their time. I knew at once they were Americans when I saw them
reading newspapers.” One of them had his hand shattered by a bullet, the other
was suffering from a gun-shot wound through the body. “Where were you hit?” I
inquired of the first. “Well,” he said, “I guess my rifle went off when I was
cleaning it in camp.” “Were you wounded at Bethel?” I asked of the second. “No,
sir,” he replied; “I got this wound from a comrade, who discharged his piece by
accident in one of the tents as I was standing outside.” “So,” said I, to Dr.
Bellows, “whilst the Britishers and Germans are engaged with the enemy, you
Americans employ your time shooting each other!”
These men were true mercenaries, for they were fighting for
money — I mean the strangers. One poor fellow from Devonshire said, as he
pointed to his stump, “I wish I had lost it for the sake of the old island,
sir,” paraphrasing Sarsfield's exclamation as he lay dying on the field. The
Americans were fighting for the combined excellences and strength of the States
of New England, and of the rest of the Federal power over the Confederates, for
they could not in their heart of hearts believe the Old Union could be restored
by force of arms. Lovers may quarrel and may reunite, but if a blow is struck
there is no redintegratio amoris possible again. The newspapers and
illustrated periodicals which they read were the pabulum that fed the flames of
patriotism incessantly. Such capacity for enormous lying, both in creation and
absorption, the world never heard. Sufficient for the hour is the falsehood.
There were lady nurses in attendance on the patients; who
followed — let us believe, as I do, out of some higher motive than the mere
desire of human praise —the example of Miss Nightingale. I loitered behind in
the rooms, asking many questions respecting the nationality of the men, in
which the members of the Sanitary Commission took no interest, and I was just
turning into one near the corner of the passage when I was stopped by a loud
smack. A young Scotchman was dividing his attention between a basin of soup and
a demure young lady from Philadelphia, who was feeding him with a spoon, his
only arm being engaged in holding her round the waist, in order to prevent her
being tired, I presume. Miss Rachel, or Deborah, had a pair of very pretty blue
eyes, but they flashed very angrily from under her trim little cap at the
unwitting intruder, and then she said, in severest tones, “Will you take your
medicine, or not?” Sandy smiled, and pretended to be very penitent.
When we returned with the doctors from our inspection we
walked around the parapets of the fortress, why so called I know not, because
it is merely a fort. The guns and mortars are old-fashioned and heavy, with the
exception of some new-fashioned and very heavy Columbiads, which are cast-iron
eight, ten, and twelve-inch guns, in which I have no faith whatever. The
armament is not sufficiently powerful to prevent its interior being searched
out by the long-range fire of ships with rifle guns, or mortar boats; but it
would require closer and harder work to breach the masses of brick and masonry
which constitute the parapets and casemates. The guns, carriages, rammers,
shot, were dirty, rusty, and neglected; but General Butler told me he was busy
polishing up things about the fortress as fast as he could.
Whilst we were parading these hot walls in the sunshine, my
companions were discussing the question of ancestry. It appears your New
Englander is very proud of his English descent from good blood, and it is one
of their is msin [sic] the Yankee
States that they are the salt of the British people and the true aristocracy of
blood and family, whereas we in the isles retain but a paltry share of the blue
blood defiled by incessant infiltrations of the muddy fluid of the outer world.
This may be new to us Britishers, but is a Q. E. D. If a gentleman left Europe
200 years ago, and settled with his kin and kith, intermarrying his children
with their equals, and thus perpetuating an ancient family, it is evident he
may be regarded as the founder of a much more honorable dynasty than the
relative who remained behind him, and lost the old family place, and sunk into
obscurity. A singular illustration of the tendency to make much of themselves
may be found in the fact, that New England swarms with genealogical societies
and bodies of antiquaries, who delight in reading papers about each other's
ancestors, and tracing their descent from Norman or Saxon barons and earls. The
Virginians opposite, who are flouting us with their Confederate flag from
Sewall's Point, are equally given to the “genus et proavos.”
At the end of our promenade round the ramparts, Lieutenant
Butler, the General's nephew and aide-de-camp, came to tell us the boat was
ready, and we met His Excellency in the court-yard, whence we walked down to
the wharf. On our way, General Butler called my attention to an enormous heap
of hollow iron lying on the sand, which was the Union gun that is intended to
throw a shot of some 350 lbs. weight or more, to astonish the Confederates at
Sewall's Point opposite, when it is mounted. This gun, if I mistake not, was
made after the designs of Captain Rodman, of the United States artillery, who
in a series of remarkable papers, the publication of which has cost the country
a large sum of money, has given us the results of long-continued investigations
and experiments on the best method of cooling masses of iron for ordnance
purposes, and of making powder for heavy shot. The piece must weigh about 20
tons, but a similar gun, mounted on an artificial island called the Rip Raps,
in the channel opposite the fortress, is said to be worked with facility. The
Confederates have raised some of the vessels sunk by the United States officers
when the Navy Yard at Gosport was destroyed, and as some of these are to be
converted into rams, the Federals are preparing their heaviest ordnance, to try
the effect of crushing weights at low velocities against their sides, should
they attempt to play any pranks among the transport vessels. The General said: “It
is not by these great masses of iron this contest is to be decided; we must
bring sharp points of steel, directed by superior intelligence.” Hitherto
General Butler's attempts at Big Bethel have not been crowned with success in
employing such means, but it must be admitted that, according to his own
statement, his lieutenants were guilty of carelessness and neglect of ordinary
military precautions in the conduct of the expedition he ordered. The march of
different columns of troops by night concentrating on a given point is always
liable to serious interruptions, and frequently gives rise to hostile
encounters between friends, in more disciplined armies than the raw levies of
United States volunteers.
When the General, Commissioners, and Staff had embarked, the
steamer moved across the broad estuary to Newport News. Among our passengers
were several medical officers in attendance on the Sanitary Commissioners, some
belonging to the army, others who had volunteered from civil life. Their
discussion of professional questions and of relative rank assumed such a
personal character, that General Butler had to interfere to quiet the
disputants, but the exertion of his authority was not altogether successful,
and one of the angry gentlemen said in my hearing, “I’m d----d if I submit to
such treatment if all the lawyers in Massachusetts with stars on their colors
were to order me to-morrow.”
On arriving at the low shore of Newport News we landed at a
wooded jetty, and proceeded to visit the camp of the Federals, which was
surrounded by a strong entrenchment, mounted with guns on the water face; and
on the angles inland, a broad tract of cultivated country, bounded by a belt of
trees, extended from the river away from the encampment; but the Confederates
are so close at hand that frequent skirmishes have occurred between the
foraging parties of the garrison and the enemy, who have on more than one
occasion pursued the Federals to the very verge of the woods.
Whilst the Sanitary Commissioners were groaning over the
heaps of filth which abound in all camps where discipline is not most strictly
observed, I walked round amongst the tents, which, taken altogether, were in
good order. The day was excessively hot, and many of the soldiers were lying
down in the shade of arbors formed of branches from the neighboring pine wood,
but most of them got up when they heard the General was coming round. A sentry
walked up and down at the end of the street, and as the General came up to him
he called out “Halt.” The man stood still. “I just want to show you, sir, what
scoundrels our Government has to deal with. This man belongs to a regiment
which has had new clothing recently served out to it. Look what it is made of.”
So saying the General stuck his fore-finger into the breast of the man's coat,
and with a rapid scratch of his nail tore open the cloth as if it was of
blotting paper. “Shoddy sir. Nothing but shoddy. I wish I had these contractors
in the trenches here, and if hard work would not make honest men of them,
they'd have enough of it to be examples for the rest of their fellows.”
A vivacious prying man, this Butler, full of bustling life,
self-esteem, revelling in the exercise of power. In the course of our rounds we
were joined by Colonel Phelps, who was formerly in the United States army, and
saw service in Mexico, but retired because he did not approve of the manner in
which promotions were made, and who only took command of a Massachusetts
regiment because he believed he might be instrumental in striking a shrewd blow
or two in this great battle of Armageddon — a tall, saturnine, gloomy, angry-eyed
sallow man, soldier-like, too, and one who places old John Brown on a level
with the great martyrs of the Christian world. Indeed one, not so fierce as he,
is blasphemous enough to place images of our Saviour and the hero of Harper's
Ferry on the mantelpiece, as the two greatest beings the world has ever seen. “Yes,
I know them well. I've seen them in the field. I've sat with them at meals.
I've travelled through their country. These Southern slave-holders are a false,
licentious, godless people. Either we who obey the laws and fear God, or they
who know no God except their own will and pleasure, and know no law except
their passions, must rule on this continent, and I believe that Heaven will
help its own in the conflict they have provoked. I grant you they are brave
enough, and desperate too, but surely justice, truth, and religion, will
strengthen a man's arm to strike down those who have only brute force and a bad
cause to support them.” But Colonel Phelps was not quite indifferent to
material aid, and he made a pressing appeal to General Butler to send him some
more guns and harness for the field-pieces he had in position, because, said
he, “in case of attack, please God I’ll follow them up sharp, and cover these
fields with their bones.” The General had a difficulty about the harness, which
made Colonel Phelps very grim, but General Butler had reason in saying he could
not make harness, and so the Colonel must be content with the results of a good
rattling fire of round, shell, grape and canister, if the Confederates are
foolish enough to attack his batteries.
There was nothing to complain of in the camp, except the
swarms of flies, the very bad smells, and perhaps the shabby clothing of the
men. The tents were good enough. The rations were ample, but nevertheless,
there was a want of order, discipline, and quiet in the lines which did not
augur well for the internal economy of the regiments. When we returned to the
river face, General Butler ordered some practice to be made with a Sawyer rifle
gun, which appeared to be an ordinary cast-iron piece, bored with grooves on
the shunt principle, the shot being covered with a composition of a metallic
amalgam like zinc and tin, and provided with flanges of the same material to
fit the grooves. The practice was irregular and unsatisfactory. At an elevation
of 24 degrees, the first shot struck the water at a point about 2000 yards
distant. The piece was then further elevated, and the shot struck quite out of
land, close to the opposite bank, at a distance of nearly three miles. The
third shot rushed with a peculiar hurtling noise out of the piece, and flew up
in the air, falling with a splash into the water about 1500 yards away. The
next shot may have gone half across the continent, for assuredly it never struck
the water, and most probably ploughed its way into the soft ground at the other
side of the river. The shell practice was still worse, and on the whole I wish
our enemies may always fight us with Sawyer guns, particularly as the shells
cost between £6 and £7 apiece.
From the fort the General proceeded to the house of one of
the officers, near the jetty, formerly the residence of a Virginian farmer, who
has now gone to Secessia, where we were most hospitably treated at an excellent
lunch, served by the slaves of the former proprietor. Although we boast with
some reason of the easy level of our mess-rooms, the Americans certainly excel
us in the art of annihilating all military distinctions on such occasions as
these; and I am not sure the General would not have liked to place a young
doctor in close arrest, who suddenly made a dash at the liver wing of a fowl on
which the General was bent with eye and fork, and carried it off to his plate.
But on the whole there was a good deal of friendly feeling amongst all ranks of
the volunteers, the regulars being a little stiff and adherent to etiquette.
In the afternoon the boat returned to Fortress Monroe, and
the General invited me to dinner, where I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs.
Butler, his staff, and a couple of regimental officers from the neighboring
camp. As it was still early, General Butler proposed a ride to visit the
interesting village of Hampton, which lies some six or seven miles outside the
fort, and forms his advance post. A powerful charger, with a tremendous Mexican
saddle, fine housings, blue and gold embroidered saddle-cloth, was brought to
the door for your humble servant, and the General mounted another, which did equal
credit to his taste in horseflesh; but I own I felt rather uneasy on seeing
that he wore a pair of large brass spurs, strapped over white jean brodequins.
He took with him his aide-de-camp and a couple of orderlies. In the precincts
of the fort outside, a population of contraband negroes has been collected,
whom the General employs in various works about the place, military and civil;
but I failed to ascertain that the original scheme of a debit and credit
account between the value of their labor and the cost of their maintenance had
been successfully carried out. The General was proud of them, and they seemed
proud of themselves, saluting him with a ludicrous mixture of awe and
familiarity as he rode past. “How do, Massa Butler? How do, General?” accompanied
by absurd bows and scrapes. “Just to think,” said the General, “that every one
of these fellows represents some one thousand dollars at least out of the pockets
of the chivalry yonder.” “Nasty, idle, dirty beasts,” says one of the staff, sotto
voce; “I wish to Heaven they were all at the bottom of the Chesapeake. The
General insists on it that they do work, but they are far more trouble than
they are worth.”
The road towards Hampton traverses a sandy spit, which,
however, is more fertile than would be supposed from the soil under the horses'
hoofs, though it is not in the least degree interesting. A broad creek or river
interposed between us and the town, the bridge over which had been destroyed.
Workmen were busy repairing it, but all the planks had not yet been laid down
or nailed, and in some places the open space between the upright rafters
allowed us to see the dark waters flowing beneath. The Aide said, “I don't
think, General, it is safe to cross;” but the chief did not mind him until his
horse very nearly crashed through a plank, and only regained its footing with
unbroken legs by marvellous dexterity; whereupon we dismounted, and, leaving
the horses to be carried over in the ferry-boat, completed the rest of the
transit, not without difficulty. At the other end of the bridge a street lined
with comfortable houses, and bordered with trees, led us into the pleasant town
or village of Hampton — pleasant once, but now deserted by all the inhabitants
except some pauperized whites and a colony of negroes. It was in full
occupation of the Federal soldiers, and I observed that most of the men were
Germans, the garrison at Newport News being principally composed of Americans.
The old red brick houses, with cornices of white stone; the narrow windows and
high gables; gave an aspect of antiquity and European comfort to the place, the
like of which I have not yet seen in the States. Most of the shops were closed;
in some the shutters were still down, and the goods remained displayed in the
windows. “I have allowed no plundering,” said the General; “and if I find a
fellow trying to do it, I will hang him as sure as my name is Butler. See here,”
and as he spoke he walked into a large woollen-draper's shop, where bales of
cloth were still lying on the shelves, and many articles such as are found in a
large general store in a country town were disposed on the floor or counters; “they
shall not accuse the men under my command of being robbers.” The boast,
however, was not so well justified in a visit to another house occupied by some
soldiers. “Well,” said the General, with a smile, “I dare say you know enough
of camps to have found out that chairs and tables are irresistible; the men
will take them off to their tents, though they may have to leave them next morning.”
The principal object of our visit was the fortified trench
which has been raised outside the town towards the Confederate lines. The path
lay through a church-yard filled with most interesting monuments. The sacred
edifice of red brick, with a square clock-tower rent by lightning, is rendered
interesting by the fact that it is almost the first church built by the English
colonists of Virginia. On the tombstones are recorded the names of many
subjects of His Majesty George Ill., and familiar names of persons born in the
early part of last century in English villages, who passed to their rest before
the great rebellion of the Colonies had disturbed their notions of loyalty and
respect to the crown. Many a British subject, too, lies there, whose latter days
must have been troubled by the strange scenes of the war of independence. With
what doubt and distrust must that one at whose tomb I stand have heard that
George Washington was making head against the troops of His Majesty King George
III.! How the hearts of the old men who had passed the best years of their
existence, as these stones tell us, fighting for His Majesty against the
French, must have beaten when once more they heard the roar of Frenchman's
ordnance uniting with the voices of the rebellious guns of the colonists from
the plains of Yorktown against the entrenchments in which Cornwallis and his
deserted band stood at hopeless bay! But could these old eyes open again, and
see General Butler standing on the eastern rampart which bounds their
resting-place, and pointing to the spot whence the rebel cavalry of Virginia
issue night and day to charge the loyal pickets of His Majesty The Union, they
might take some comfort in the fulfilment of the vaticinations which no doubt
they uttered, " It cannot, and it will not, come, to good."
Having inspected the works — as far as I could judge, too
extended, and badly traced — which I say with all deference to the able young
engineer who accompanied us to point out the various objects of interest — the
General returned to the bridge, where we remounted, and made a tour of the
camps of the force intended to defend Hampton, falling back on Fortress Monroe
in case of necessity. Whilst he was riding ventre a terre, which seems
to be his favorite pace, his horse stumbled in the dusty road, and in his
effort to keep his seat the General broke his stirrup leather, and the
ponderous brass stirrup fell to the ground; but, albeit a lawyer, he neither
lost his seat nor his sangfroid, and calling out to his orderly "
to pick up his toe plate," the jean slippers were closely pressed, spurs
and all, to the sides of his steed, and away we went once more through dust and
heat so great I was by no means sorry when he pulled up outside a pretty villa,
standing in a garden, which was occupied by Colonel Max Weber, of the German
Turner Regiment, once the property of General Tyler. The camp of the Turners,
who are members of various gymnastic societies, was situated close at hand; but
I had no opportunity of seeing them at work, as the Colonel insisted on our
partaking of the hospitalities of his little mess, and produced some bottles of
sparkling hock and a block of ice, by no means unwelcome after our fatiguing
ride. His Major, whose name I have unfortunately forgotten, and who spoke
English better than his chief, had served in some capacity or other in the
Crimea, and made many inquiries after the officers of the Guards whom he had
known there. I took an opportunity of asking him in what state the troops were.
"The whole thing is a robbery," he exclaimed; "this war is for
the contractors; the men do not get a third of what the Government pay for
them; as for discipline, my God! it exists not. We Germans are well enough, of
course; we know our affair; but as for the Americans, what would you? They make
colonels out of doctors and lawyers, and captains out of fellows who are not
fit to brush a soldier's shoe." "But the men get their pay?"
"Yes that is so. At the end of two months, they get it, and by that time
it is due to sutlers, who charge them 100 per cent."
It is easy to believe these old soldiers do not put much
confidence in General Butler, though they admit his energy. “Look you; one good
officer with 5,000 steady troops, such as we have in Europe, shall come down
any night and walk over us all into Fortress Monroe whenever he pleased, if he
knew how these troops were placed.”
On leaving the German Turners, the General visited the camp
of Duryea's New York Zouaves, who were turned out at evening parade, or more properly
speaking, drill. But for the ridiculous effect of their costume the regiment
would have looked well enough; but riding down on the rear of the ranks the
discolored napkins tied round their heads, without any fez cap beneath, so that
the hair sometimes stuck up through the folds, the ill-made jackets, the loose
bags of red calico hanging from their loins, the long gaiters of white cotton —
instead ot the real Zouave yellow and black greave, and smart white gaiter —
made them appear such military scarecrows, I could scarcely refrain from
laughing outright. Nevertheless the men were respectably drilled, marched
steadily in columns of company, wheeled into line, and went past at quarter
distance at the double much better than could be expected from the short time
they had been in the field, and I could with all sincerity say to Colonel
Duryea, a smart and not unpretentious gentleman, who asked my opinion so
pointedly that I could not refuse to give it, that I considered the appearance
of the regiment very creditable. The shades of evening were now falling, and as
I had been up before 5 o'clock in the morning, I was not sorry when General
Butler said, “Now we will go home to tea, or you will detain the steamer.” He
had arranged before I started that the vessel, which in ordinary course would
have returned to Baltimore at eight o'clock, should remain till he sent down
word to the Captain to go.
We scampered back to the fort, and judging from the
challenges and vigilance of the sentries, and inlying pickets, I am not quite
so satisfied as the Major that the enemy could have surprised the place. At the
tea-table there were no additions to the General's family; he therefore spoke
without any reserve. Going over the map, he explained his views in reference to
future operations, and showed cause, with more military acumen than I could
have expected from a gentleman of the long robe, why he believed Fortress
Monroe was the true base of operations against Richmond.
I have been convinced for some time, that if a sufficient
force could be left to cover Washington, the Federals should move against
Richmond from the Peninsula, where they could form their depots at leisure, and
advance, protected by their gunboats, on a very short line which offers far
greater facilities and advantages than the inland route from Alexandria to
Richmond, which, difficult in itself from the nature of the country, is exposed
to the action of a hostile population, and, above all, to the danger of
constant attacks by the enemies' cavalry, tending more or less to destroy all
communication with the base of the Federal operations.
The threat of seizing Washington led to a concentration of
the Union troops in front of it, which caused in turn the collection of the
Confederates on the lines below to defend Richmond. It is plain that if the
Federals can cover Washington, and at the same time assemble a force at Monroe
strong enough to march on Richmond, as they desire, the Confederates will be
placed in an exceedingly hazardous position, scarcely possible to escape from;
and there is no reason why the North, with their- overwhelming preponderance,
should not do so, unless they be carried away by the fatal spirit of brag and bluster
which comes from their press to overrate their own strength and to despise
their enemy's. The occupation of Suffolk will be seen, by any one who studies
the map, to afford a most powerful leverage to the Federal forces from Monroe
in their attempts to turn the enemy out of their camps of communication, and to
enable them to menace Richmond as well as the Southern States most seriously.
But whilst the General and I are engaged over our maps and
mint juleps, time flies, and at last I perceive by the clock it is time to go.
An aide is sent to stop the boat, but he returns ere I leave with the news that
“She is gone.” Whereupon the General sends for the Quartermaster Talmadge, who is
out in the camps, and only arrives in time to receive a severe “wigging.” It so
happened that I had important papers to send off by the next mail from New
York, and the only chance of being able to do so depended on my being in
Baltimore next day. General Butler acted with kindness and promptitude in the
matter. “I promised you should go by the steamer, but the captain has gone off
without orders or leave, for which he shall answer when I see him. Meantime it
is my business to keep my promise. Captain Talmadge, you will at once go down
and give orders to the most suitable transport steamer or chartered vessel
available, to get up steam at once and come up to the wharf for Mr. Russell.”
Whilst I was sitting in the parlor which served as the
General's office, there came in a pale, bright-eyed, slim young man in a
subaltern's uniform, who sought a private audience, and unfolded a plan he had
formed, on certain data gained by nocturnal expeditions, to surprise a body of
the enemy's cavalry which was in the habit of coming down every night and
disturbing the pickets at Hampton. His manner was so eager, his information so
precise, that the General could not refuse his sanction, but he gave it in a
characteristic manner. “Well, sir, I understand your proposition. You intend to
go out as a volunteer to effect this service. You ask my permission to get men
for it. I cannot grant you an order to any of the officers in command of
regiments to provide you with these; but if the Colonel of your regiment wishes
to give leave to his men to volunteer, and they like to go with you, I give you
leave to take them. I wash my hands of all responsibility in the affair.” The
officer bowed and retired, saying, “That is quite enough, General.”*
At ten o'clock the Quartermaster came back to say that a
screw steamer called The Elizabeth was getting up steam for my reception, and I
bade good-by to the General, and walked down with his aide and nephew,
Lieutenant Butler, to the Hygeia Hotel to get my light knapsack. It was a
lovely moonlight night, and as I was passing down an avenue of trees an officer
stopped me, and exclaimed, “General Butler, I hear you have given leave to
Lieutenant Blank to take a party of my regiment and go off scouting to-night
after the enemy. It is too hard that —” What more he was going to say I know
not, for I corrected the mistake, and the officer walked hastily on towards the
General's quarters. On reaching the Hygeia Hotel I was met by the correspondent
of a New York paper, who as commissary-general, or, as they are styled in the
States, officer of subsistence, had been charged to get the boat ready, and who
explained to me it would be at least an hour before the steam was up; and
whilst I was waiting in the porch I heard many Virginian, and old-world stories
as well, the general upshot of which was that all the rest of the world could
be “done” at cards, in love, in drink, in horseflesh, and in fighting, by the
true-born American. General Butler came down after a time, and joined our
little society, nor was he by any means the least shrewd and humorous raconteur
of the party. At eleven o'clock The Elizabeth uttered some piercing cries,
which indicated she had her steam up; and so I walked down to the jetty,
accompanied by my host and his friends, and wishing them good-by, stepped on
board the little vessel, and with the aid of the negro cook, steward, butler,
boots, and servant, roused out the captain from a small wooden trench which he
claimed as his berth, turned into it, and fell asleep just as the first
difficult convulsions of the screw aroused the steamer from her coma, and
forced her languidly against the tide in the direction of Baltimore.
_______________
* It may be stated here, that this expedition met with a
disastrous result. If I mistake not, the officer, and with him the
correspondent of a paper who accompanied him, were killed by the cavalry whom
he meant to surprise, and several of the volunteers were also killed or
wounded.
SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and
South, Vol. 1, p. 405-19
