Drum Taps in Dixie Part 26

First Maine, 2d corps, 423; 8th New York, 2d corps, 361; 7th New York, 2d corps, 291; 2d Connecticut, 6th corps, 254, 1st Ma.s.sachusetts, 2d corps, 241, 2d Pennsylvania, 9th corps 233; 14th New York 9th corps, 226; 2d New York, 2d corps 214; 9th New York, 6th corps, 204.

Naturally the writer is proud of the fact that his old regiment stands high on the honor roll. The record of 214 killed in battle tells the story, plainer than words, that the 2d New York Heavy Artillery were where the bullets were flying thick and fast.

BOUND FOR THE LAND OF FREEDOM.

The negro contrabands that flocked to our lines during the closing days of the struggle furnished a great deal of amus.e.m.e.nt to the soldiers. In their hasty flight for freedom they picked up the very articles that were of little use to them, even to feather beds, boxes, cotton umbrellas, stovepipe hats and of course every musician his banjo. The girls wore huge hoop skirts which were then in vogue, and many had on flounced silk dresses that had evidently been borrowed from "Missus' wardrobe." There was nothing these poor black people would not do for "Ma.s.sa Linc.u.m soldier men," whom they fairly worshiped. An old "Mammy" made my chum and I an old fashioned "hoecake" at high bridge, baking it in a skillet which she buried in the coals of a campfire, and it was about the most toothsome morsel I ever ate. Goodness gracious! what would I give for the appet.i.te and digestion of those days.

PRAYER FOR THE C. S. A.

We entered a neat looking church one day, and one of the boys opened an Episcopal prayer book at the altar, and at the "Prayer for All in Authority," found that the words "the president of the United States" had been cut out, and, folded in the book, was a ma.n.u.script copy of prayers for the "Confederate States of America."

RICHMOND AFTER THE EVACUATION.

Those who have visited this beautiful Virginia city in recent years have no idea of the appearance of the place after it was evacuated by the Confederates. Lee's message of April 2, telling Jefferson Davis that "my lines are broken in three places, Richmond must be evacuated this evening," found Mr. Davis in church. He quietly withdrew, and the fate of the city was soon noised about the streets, which became filled with men, wagons and negroes carrying trunks and bundles of every description.

After the departure of President Davis and others of the Confederate government, Gen. Ewell issued orders for the burning of the large warehouses of the city, and thus a great conflagration was started that threatened to lay in ashes all of the business structures.

The city council met and decided to destroy every drop of liquor in town, and at midnight committees of citizens visited every ward and rolled hundreds of barrels of whisky into the streets, and, knocking the heads out, the gutters were flooded. The shipping at the wharves was fired and pandemonium reigned complete for 24 hours.

The Union forces entered the city the next day and proceeded to restore order.

A few days later the writer accompanied a party of officers to the city, going by way of City Point and up the James river by boat, past formidable forts and earthworks that had swarmed with Confederate soldiers ten days before, now deserted. The cannon that had hardly cooled off for over nine months were now silent. White tents that had sheltered the enemy stood as lonely sentinels for the "Lost Cause."

There were many points of interest, such as the famous Howlett house battery, Butler's Dutch Gap ca.n.a.l, the "Crow's Nest," a lookout station, Haxall's landing where the exchange of prisoners used to take place. The river was full of mines and torpedoes, and the thought that every minute might be our last was anything but pleasant.

The defenses of the City of Richmond appeared to have been impregnable, if the confederates could have kept a sufficient force there to man them.

Every elevation about the city had a fort, and there were two lines of abatis and three separate lines of rifle pits and earthworks encircling the city. No attacking army can ever carry by direct a.s.sault a city so fortified, if the army within is anywhere equal in numbers to that on the outside and has supplies to subsist upon. It used to be reckoned that the troops that a.s.saulted a fortified position must lose five or more men to one of those defending the works.

LIBBY PRISON.

The name of which was quite enough to give a Union soldier the cold chills, was filled with Confederates the day we were there. The blue and the gray had exchanged places. We being human, were much pleased to see the rebels peering out through the grated windows with the Union sentries pacing up and down around the building.

The bridges leading out of the city had mostly been destroyed, also the great warehouses, the postoffice, the treasury, the leading banks, and, in fact, the heart of the city had been burned out and the ruins were smoldering when we were there. The street where the treasury and war department had been was knee deep with official papers and records that had been thrown out.

We wandered through the deserted State house, the capitol of the confederacy, and the writer has a piece of the upholstering taken from the chair that was presented to the speaker of the Confederate congress by English sympathizers.

The home of Jefferson Davis was used as the headquarters of Gen. Weitzel, who commanded the forces that entered the city after its evacuation.

President Lincoln, who was at City Point during Grant's final operations against Lee, went up to Richmond the next day after the city fell and held a levee in the house that had been occupied by Jeff Davis two days before.

Thousands of black people crowded the streets to welcome and bless their emanc.i.p.ator, and it became necessary to use military force to clear the streets so that Lincoln could pa.s.s. His personal safety was feared for when he proposed the visit, but no insult was offered him, and two days later he repeated his visit, accompanied by Mrs. Lincoln, several United States senators and Vice-President Johnson. Eight days later he was a.s.sa.s.sinated in Washington, and the South lost the best friend they could have had in the pacification and reconstruction days that were to come, for the heart of the great Lincoln was free from all bitterness and resentment towards his erring brothers.

BILL'S LAST FIGHT.

William Slater and Eber Ponto were among the best soldiers of our company.

Neither had ever shirked a duty and, having kept step side by side for three years, were the closest of comrades. In fact, I believe either would have walked into the jaws of death for the other.

Ponto lived to see the end of the war and came home wearing a sergeant's chevrons, while Slater was left sleeping on a hillside at Petersburg.

Ponto was a Frenchman and in after years, at a reunion of the regiment, he told us the circ.u.mstances of Bill's death in about the following words:

"Remember dat charge at Petersburg, boys? 'Twas a beeg fight, I'll never forget dat night when we wer' lyin' behind dat stone wall waitin' for mornin' to come."

"I don't lak dat waitin' round' for a fight. Ze Frenchman he lak de word an' de blow together.

"Well, Bill and I were smokin' our laurel root pipes and I notis Bill wer'

keepin' mighty quiet lak he doin' a heap of thinkin'--of course he never say much, tain't his way. Fin'ly he look up an he say, Ebe, ole' boy, dere goin' to be a hot time in ze mornin' an' 'twill be my las' fight."

"I say 'pshaw, Billee boy, guess you bin soke up too much dat air Chickahominy malaria over at Cole Harbor las' week'--cause you know boys when you git dat in your bones it mak' everything look blue even to your finger nails.

"Bill he say, 'no, I'm all right, but something tell me dat if you're alive tomorrow night you'll be smokin' alone.'

"Then I say to Bill, 'You just lay low in de mornin' an' I'll tell them you'r sick an' get you excuse from dis sc.r.a.p.' An' Bill he say, 'Ebe, you never knew me to 'flunk' did you? Well, I'm not goin' to do it now. Where you an' old Co. H go I'm goin', but promis' me, Ebe, that you'll keep close to me and if I'm killed I want you to take my watch an' always carry it,' an' I promis', an' we shake hands for I lak Bill and he lak me.

"Well ze next mornin' Col. Whistler he led us up thro' dat peech orchard; remember dat, boys? Bill and I we touch elbows and say nuthin'. Dem minies go, zip! zip! pretty fas'. I get excited an' all at once I don't feel Bill's elbow touchin' mine. I look roun' an' I see him lyin' on his face.

I turn him over an' there's a red spot on his forehead. I unb.u.t.ton his shirt an' feel for his heart; it was stop, an' mine beat lak a beeg ba.s.s drum. I take this watch you see. I close his eyes. I press my lips to his, an' cover him with my blanket, an' that was the las' of poor Bill."

THE COLONEL AND THE PENSION AGENT.

A man whom we will call Jarvis Jenkins was a member of the same company and regiment as the writer. He served his country well, was wounded in battle and for nearly 25 years has been trying to establish his claim to a pension, but, living in the far west away from all of his old comrades, it has been a hard matter for him to get the testimony to satisfy the department.

One day, some months since there walked into my place of business a gentleman who announced himself a special agent of the pension department, and, after asking my name, age, and if I was the identical person who served as drummer boy in such a company and regiment during the Civil war, the answer being in the affirmative, he then desired to know if I recalled one Jarvis Jenkins, and, if so, could I tell of any particular thing that happened to him. Yes, he received a scalp wound in one of the a.s.saults at Petersburg. This did not seem to be the information wanted, for sometimes it would seem that the affairs of the pension office are administered somewhat after the manner of the "circ.u.mlocution office" described by Charles d.i.c.kens in the charming book of "Little Dorrit." So another tack was taken and the following question propounded: "Did you while at Fort Haggerty, Va., own a revolver?" I admitted that I had once in my life, and only once been the proud possessor of a deadly weapon. Could I tell what became of it?

Answer: "Traded with 'Lige' Moyer, our company cook, for a watch, and paid him in boot more than the watch was worth."

"Now, sir, can it be that you are mistaken and is it not possible that you loaned your revolver to Jarvis Jenkins to hunt rabbits with and that it exploded in his hand, lacerating his fingers badly?"

Answer: "No, sir."

"Then," said the government agent, "I must look up another drummer boy of the 2d New York, for it is certain that some one loaned him a revolver which exploded as stated."

The special agent was a pleasant fellow, and as we smoked a couple of cigars he showed me a great ma.s.s of testimony that had been taken in the case and said that he had traveled more than 1,000 miles to interview members of the regiment. "By the way," he said, "I am going to read you extracts from the testimony of your old lieutenant colonel which I took down in shorthand."

As near as I remember it ran something like this: "I believe you are Col.

Hulser who commanded the 2d New York in the last months of its service?"

Answer: "The same."

"What was your previous rank, colonel?"

"Major, captain and lieutenant."

"Can you give me the dates of your promotions?"