USA > Illinois > Yates phalanx : the history of the Thirty-Ninth Regiment Illinois Volunteer Veteran Infantry in the war of the rebellion, 1861-1865 > Part 10
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41
The congressional committee, sat within the Nation's city, And each Congressman so witty, did the General implore: "Tell us if thou, at that battle, 'mid the booming and the rattle, Was on gunboat or in saddle, while the tempest rag'd ashore?" Answer'd he: "I don't remember; might have been." What more? Only this, and nothing more.
"By the truth which is eternal, by the lies that are diurnal, By our Abraham paternal, General, we thee implore, Tell the truth and shame the devil, parent of old Jeff and evil- Give us no more of such drive-Tell us, were thou on the shore?" "Don't remember; might have been,"-Thus spake he o'er and o'er, Only this, and nothing more.
"On that day, Sir, had you seen a gunboat of the name Galena, In an anchorage to screen a man from danger on the shore? Was a man about your inches, smoking with those two French Princes, With a caution with evinces care for such a 'garde de corps' Were you that man on the gunboat?" "Don't remember; might have been."
"The bore!"
Only this, and nothing more."
70
YATES PHALANX
We remained at Yorktown, pleasantly encamped near the waters of Chesapeake Bay, until August 30 when orders came to march; and the prevailing opinion seemed to be that we were destined again to the valley of Virginia to cooperate with General John Pope's army, as it was reported that the enemy was endeavoring to cross the Potomac into Maryland.
We were, however, to proceed in another direction. We marched to Fort Monroe and there took transport across to the Nansemond River, up which we proceeded to Suffolk, Virginia, reaching there September 3, 1862, and made encampment just out side the town.
Suffolk is pleasantly situated on the Nansemond River, which is navigable to this place. Before the war it had a population of 1,600, the majority of whom were slaves. The great Dismal Swamp stretched out from its eastern and southern boundaries, connected with the town by canal. Suffolk was burned during the Revolutionary War, but was again rebuilt, and its appearance was quite pleasing and decidedly antique or ancient. The few families left in town were or had been wealthy, and those who found "entree" met excellent society. The female portion were very shy and retiring, however, and on the approach of a Union soldier plainly showed how distasteful and unwelcome he was.
The Regimental Hospital was located in the town for the better accommodation of the sick, having selected a large two-story structure which proved admirably adapted for the purpose. On or about September 9 two assistant surgeons reported from Illinois, having been assigned to the Thirty- Ninth. There were Doctor James Crozier, First Assistant, and William Woodward, Second Assistant. Doctor Strobridge still remained with us, and for the first time in the history of the Regiment we had more than the necessary supply of what the men facetiously termed "pill shooters." Lieutenant- Colonel Mann returned from a "leave of absence" that he had received at Harrison's Landing, about this time, bringing with him his bride, and inducted her into the mysteries of "camping out."
The first Sabbath spent at Suffolk was ushered in with a peal of church bells which we, for a long, long time, had been strangers to. Sunday, in our "calendar," was the day when all marches were commenced, and battles fought, and we had grown to consider it as the most exacting day of the week. In all our previous history, and on an active campaign, there was nothing to herald its approach, and absolutely nothing to distinguish it from the other days, except perhaps the feeble workings of a conscience, and, at remarkably long intervals, the announcement that the chaplain had arrived and would hold services.
In the early part of September a reconnaissance in force was made around the Dismal Swamp, but for some reason it was recalled before having accomplished the mission it had started upon. The Thirty-Ninth was kept busy in cutting timber, throwing up entrenchments and forts, and occasionally participating in expeditions out to the Blackwater River, eighteen miles distant, where there was quite a force of the enemy.
On one of these reconnaissances the Thirty-Ninth had a lively brush with the enemy, capturing two pieces of artillery and forty prisoners, with the loss of one man.
Lieutenant S. S. Brucker later wrote for the Regimental History:
"While proceeding on a scouting expedition to the Dismal Swamp, the Thirty-Ninth was
71
"Death was busy reaping a rich harvest"
accompanied by two cavalry companies and one battery of artillery. After marching all the day and until about dark, we made camp on what was termed an island in the swamp. Major Munn was 'Officer of the day and pickets.' Before going to the front with my detail, the Major gave me strict orders to be vigilant, as we were near where a large body of the enemy was reported to be, and as our command was small, he said 'We cannot afford to give the rebels a chance to surprise or capture us. You are therefore commanded to fire on any body of men that advances from the road in the swamp coming toward you, and without giving the usual warning of halt!'
"I proceeded to the post assigned to me, established my picket line, and left my reserves about 100 yards in the rear. In order to understand the nature of the surroundings it is necessary to state that the road was built of logs, a 'cross-way' in the midst of a swamp for miles ahead and to the right of us, and no one could approach towards us except on the 'cross-way.' About midnight, while visiting my outpost, my attention was called to a slight noise as if made by a body of horse in the distance. It became more and more distinct, and the clang of metal (such as the clatter of sabers makes) left no doubt in my mind that a large body of cavalry was advancing upon us. We quietly fell back upon our reserves, who had also heard the approach and were on the alert. I first cautioned my men to silence, and to have their guns ready and bayonets fixed, but not to fire under any circumstances until I have the word of command.
"I had my orders implicit and strict, yet I hesitated to fire. I cannot tell even to this day what possessed me, but something seemed to whisper 'Do not fire until after you have challenged them.' The time was passing quickly and they came nearer and nearer. We could
ON PICKET.
72
YATES PHALANX
neither see them, or they us, as the night was very dark, but we were conscious that a few seconds of time would bring them up to our position. I then called out loudly and distinctly,
'Halt!' The command must have surprised and startled them wonderfully, judging from the almost instantaneous check given the horses and rattle of the sabers. I was quickly answered 'Friends!' to which I replied, 'Advance, Friend, and give the countersign!'
'Who are you?' was asked.
'We are friends,'
'Friends of whom?'
'Friends of the Union!' I replied,
'So are we!' he said.
"I then asked 'What rank do you hold? Where are you from, and where going?'
'Captain! From Chowan River, and enroute to Suffolk!' he replied.
"Knowing, of course, that we held Suffolk, I felt satisfied they were not rebels, yet I called upon the Captain to dismount and advance twenty paces, and I would meet him which we did. Satisfying myself that he was all right, I yet ordered my men to hold the cavalry while I escorted the Captain to headquarters, where he proved to be a Captain Wyland of a New York cavalry regiment on a scout from Beaufort, North Carolina, to report to headquarters of the Commanding General at Suffolk, Virginia. When Major Munn stated to the Captain the instructions he had given me, that officer turned a few shades paler and was ready to embrace me for joy at his narrow escape. It was disobedience to orders, but proved a great mercy."
Many of the veterans will remember "Aunt Sally," a tall, angular Negress, a familiar character about the camp and hospital, full of her oddities and pranks, coming daily with milk, eggs, chickens and oysters to sell. She was a most singular person, possessing a great deal of assurance as well as impudence and a wonderful amount of "lip." She stuttered and stammered badly, and was exceedingly sensitive in regard to this defect-so much so, that the least appearance of mocking at it would render her furious, and then she could hardly articulate intelligibly at all. Every morning she would come ambling and shuffling along the street with a milk pitcher perched on the top of her woolly head, and with pails or baskets swinging from her arms, and singing "We'll be gay and happy still!" "In a voice that would do credit to a Stentor;" and if the music at guard mount was sounding, she would stop to execute a "pas de seul" to the infinite amusement of the bystanders. "M-m- mawing, boss! Want s-s-s-s-ome f-f-fine ostahs or c-c-chickens foh yo' s-s-sick, dis m-m-mawing?" Poor old Aunt Sally! We wonder if you survived "de wah?"
The New York papers were received daily via Norfolk, and the war news was scanned with the utmost interest. At this date (September 13, 1862,) the news is most discouraging from all points. In the whole of the past year's campaign nothing has been satisfactorily accomplished. The rebels have driven our armies back and back until the Union forces occupy but a very small portion of their territory, and what is still more humiliating and shameful, they have invaded our border and bid fair to make good their threat of dictating their own terms of settlement. The policy of our leaders seems to be to wait while the rebels win, and the frequent mistakes of our generals are taken advantage of
73
"Death was busy reaping a rich harvest"
and turned to good account. While we are planning, they are boldly executing. Their army, inferior as it is in numbers, poorly fed and badly clothed, has a vigor and determination that makes us tremble, and troubles us every where.
The people of the North never properly appreciated the magnitude of the rebellion; they have always undervalued the resources of the South, and have consoled themselves with the idea that there was no possibility of failure. Our armies can never be victorious until the whole North, laying aside all party prejudices and the "irrepressible nigger question," unites as one man, and the unity of purpose proceeds to the work of speedily vindicating the "old flag" and reestablishing the only government worth living for.
The Regiment lost two men at Suffolk-one killed by being struck by a falling tree while at work with his comrades in felling timber for use in constructing redoubts; the other dying from typhoid fever. The work devolving upon the soldiers at this post was immense, and very seldom was there a day that could be devoted to rest or amusement for when not engaged in work on the entrench- ments and forts, there was sure to be an alarm from the advance guard of the enemy's approach, and the men held in constant readiness for defense.
About December 1, Major S. W. Munn resigned from the service by reason of poor health, Captain S. S. Linton being promoted to the position. At the same time Colonel Osborn was granted a "leave of absence" and proceeded home to Chicago. New Year's Day came in bright and beautiful, and the officers of the Division celebrated it by taking a gallop through town in force, led by Colonel R. S. Foster, of the Thirteenth Indiana Volunteers. Later in the day there was prepared a grand dinner, and in the evening a dance, with a sufficient number of ladies to make it interesting.
The mean strength of the Regiment at this time was-officers, thirty-seven; enlisted men, 730.
January 3, 1863, it became noised around that orders had been received to prepare for a march and change of base, and such proved to be the case; and on January 5, after the usual turning over of camp and garrison equipment and the cutting down of the means of transportation, our Division moved out for the Chowan River, seventy-five miles distant. The weather was fine and the spirits of the men fresh and elastic. During the first day's march the advance of our column encountered a small body of rebel cavalry that occasioned a slight delay. On the second day the novelty of the change had considerably worn off, and there was a little more straggling and weariness. During a halt in the afternoon, just over the state line in North Carolina, a Negro was discovered crouching in a fence corner and apparently badly frightened. The soldiers in the vicinity, in the spirit of mischief, ordered him to "come out of that!" which he immediately did, badly demoralized by fear. "Strip off that coat!" "Now take off your vest!" "Skin off that shirt!" all of which commands were readily obeyed; and had not the order to "fall in" sounded just then, there is no telling what else he would have been ordered to do. He soon mastered all his fear and seemed to relish the fun at his expense, and finally consented to come along as servant to one of the company officers. Large numbers of carts, mules and horses were gathered in by the men on this march, and before reaching our destination nearly every company possessed a mule and cart, which was utilized to carry knapsacks and blankets. It was no uncommon sight to see soldiers mounted on mules and horses, and they, to accommodate their less fortunate comrades, would consent to take their shelter tents, canteens, knapsacks, etc., until there was place for no more, and the appearance presented was most ludicrous.
74
YATES PHALANX
They called themselves "Mounted Infantry." This sport did not continue for any great length of time, for when the matter reached the notice of the commander, each horse, mule and cart was turned over to the owner, who in most instances had followed on after them.
Tobacco raising and manufacturing seemed to be the leading industry of this section of country, and we came across large quantities of it in all shapes. On one plantation a large barn near the road we were following was found well stocked, and by order of the General commanding, many hogsheads, casks and boxes of it were rolled down to the roadside, the heads of the casks broken in, and the boys were permitted to help themselves, which they did without much ceremony, although they were not allowed to stop; but it was grab and march on. Some were content with a twist or two of the natural leaf for smoking and a plug or so for chewing, but there were others so avaricious that they grabbed and scrambled for all they could carry, and were then sorry that they could not take it all. Many were afterwards seen with at least fifteen or twenty pounds of plug tobacco in their arms or slung to their backs, while their haversacks and pockets were bulging with hunks of the natural leaf. The day was decidedly warm, and as mile after mile passed you could notice that those very greedy chaps, who were scrambling and almost fighting for the lion's share, were eager to lighten their load by giving it away to whoever wanted it, and many were glad to throw it all away before the bivouac was reached. It was most excellent tobacco, and it seemed a sin and a shame to have it so wantonly wasted.
The country through which we were passing furnished excellent advantage for foraging, and men were specially detailed for the purpose from each company; besides, there were those who went off on their individual responsibility. The members of the band had become experts, and some will remember that on one occasion during this march they captured a young pig, and in order to bring it along secure from notice they placed it inside the big drum and thus brought in to the night camp.
BAND BOYS FORAGING.
75
"Death was busy reaping a rich harvest"
Orders were usually very strict regarding individual and indiscriminate foraging, nevertheless men would take the chances.
George Riddle of Company I tells a little of his experience while on this march. He says:
"One day when we had halted for dinner, a comrade and myself left the ranks and started out to look for a little change of diet for supper. We soon found a little sandy shoat, [a young, weaned pig], and my comrade had just 'stuck' it, when, looking up the road, we saw General 'Sandy' Foster, of the Thirteenth Indiana Volunteers, coming. My comrade ran away, but I held on to the pig, and had it be the throat as the General came up and said 'What are you doing with that pig?' I told him that fellow running yonder had cut its throat and I was trying to stop the blood from staining its bristles. He looked at me a moment quite sharply, and then asked, 'What regiment do you belong to?' 'Thirty-Ninth Illinois,' I answered. 'Well,' said he, 'the blood will be damned apt to stop by the time a 'Sucker' gets through with it; but don't you let anybody see you with that pig, or you may get into trouble; and,' he continued, 'you'll know where to find my quarters tonight, won't you?"
The afternoon of January 8 we reached the Chowan River, where preparations were made to embark on transports for New Bern, North Carolina, which was reached the following morning. We were now in the Department commanded by General A. J. Foster. Colonel Osborn was placed in temporary command of the Brigade here. We were sent some three miles out of the city to make encampment, and selected a timber grove after removing the dense undergrowth.
The men were supplied with a small "A" or button tent, often called the "dog tent" at this time, no other tents being furnished except for hospital use. Many of the officers found accommodations for meals and for sleeping in the neighboring houses. One plantation house was quite near our camp and was occupied by a family of the poorer class, who stated that they had been left in charge by the owner, who had removed with his family when New Bern was first occupied by Union soldiers. The house was beautifully furnished throughout, and here it was that a few of us got accommodations that were quite home like. A grand piano had been left behind, and with the musical talent that we had with us, quite entertaining and swell concerts were given.
While at New Bern the Regiment received an elegant flag from Governor Richard Yates of Illinois, bearing his portrait, and on the day of its reception, at the hour of "dress parade," it was placed in the hands of the "color-guard" with appropriate ceremonies. Short speeches were made by several of the officers, the sum and substance being, "Never submit to its dishonor or permit its capture by the enemy!" The history of the Thirty-Ninth Illinois shows how well it was guarded and cared for by the many brave men who have constituted the "color-guard" during the long and bloody years they were called upon to sustain it.
Fully two-thirds of the guard who first received the flag were killed while supporting it at the battles of Drewry's Bluff, Hatcher's Run, and Darbytown Cross-Roads, and it with the other colors of the Regiment was honorably and proudly borne back to the "muster-out" at the capitol of the State in December 1865, their folds scarred and rent with rifle balls, but covered all over with glory. The
76
YATES PHALANX
archives of the State contain no better symbols of the bravery and devotion of her sons than the banners of the "Yates Phalanx."
COUNTING THE SCARS IN THE COLORS.
On January 18, 1863, we were notified that we were to be sent into South Carolina, and everything was made in readiness for the trip; wives of the officers were sent home, horses, wagons, and ambulances turned in to the Post Quartermaster, and the sick and disabled of the command sent to general hospital. On the 20th we took the cars for Morehead City, a distance of twenty miles, where we were to embark for Hilton Head, South Carolina. The harbor was full of shipping of all kinds and descriptions, and we were granted permission to select our vessels. A small side-wheel steamer was at first pointed out to us as one of our vessels, but on inspection by the Colonel and Surgeon it was found to be unseaworthy, and beside, would not accommodate one-half the Regiment.
We next visited a craft lying near the opposite shore, a two-masted propeller. We reached her in due course by a small boat, but soon condemned it, for on descending into the hold we found her timbers rotten, and the clap-boarding of her upper deck (could not be dignified by any other name) in a most shameful condition. We finally took up with two small propellers that were seaworthy, and a small schooner to carry our baggage and horses. These vessels were soon brought to the wharf and Companies A to E, together with a portion of the field and staff and the band, embarked on the General Meigs. The other companies of the Regiment went on board the City of Bath and the schooner Skirmisher, and towards evening we started out as a part of the Foster Expedition for South Carolina, the State that first inaugurated the Rebellion.
77
CHAPTER NINE
"At half past two the Ball opened"
We passed Fort McAllister at sundown and were soon on the billows of the broad Atlantic. The storm that had been brewing since early morning now broke in all its fury, and we got more than a taste of old Ocean in one of its tragic moods. The storm increased in violence, and the vessel labored heavily in its passage through the heavy seas. Fully two-thirds of the officers and men were settling up accounts with "Neptune," with a large balance in his favor, and felt most thoroughly depleted and disconsolate. The few officers who kept their "sea legs" and a clear head, engaged in games of whist and euchre in the Captain's saloon, and in this way passed the night; and a most protracted and gloomy night it was, the rolling and pitching of the vessel often capsizing us from our chairs, and it did seem at times as if the vessel itself would roll over. At last the welcome morning dawned, and as the sun arose, the wind and waves abated, yet the long and heavy swells of water kept large numbers on the sick list. At inspection in the morning the hold of the vessel was found to be in a most foul and filthy condition. The men were ordered on deck and the ship's crew with hoses and brooms were put to work cleaning. During the afternoon the sea became as smooth as a mirror and the many seasick soldiers came from their beds into the fresh and bracing sea air for enjoyment. Some got out their fishing tackle, other baited for sharks, of which we saw numbers, and all found pleasure in watching the antics of the porpoises and the gulls.
While we are at sea it may be well to take an "account of stock," as it were, and find out what the condition of the Thirty-Ninth then was. We had been in the United States service one year, three months and ten days up to January 22, 1863. We left Chicago with 806 officers and enlisted men, October 11, 1861. In the meantime we had received 147 recruits, including Company H, which joined us at Harrison's Landing, Virginia, making a total of 953. From this number nineteen officers have resigned their commissions; two officers have been dismissed the service; one officer had died; thirty-two men have been left behind on marches; thirty-nine men have deserted; thirty-one men have been sent to the general hospital; eighteen men have died, leaving 767 officers and men for active service in the new field to which we are hastening.
We reached Hilton Head early in the morning of January 22, and lay in the harbor for several hours, awaiting, as we afterwards learned, the settlement of some difficulty between Generals Foster and David Hunter, the latter of whom was in command of the Department of South Carolina.
78
YATES PHALANX
Without going into the details of their controversy concerning rank and position, which in itself is not pertinent to this history, but which was of prime interest to the two generals, we take up the thread of our personal history again.
During the afternoon we were sent down to a landing place on St. Helena Island, where the men disembarked. The schooner carrying our baggage and livestock could not reach the improvised pier during flood-tide, and our horses were pushed overboard and made to swim ashore, which they did in gallant style, and were fully as glad as ourselves in reaching terra firma once more.
We bivouacked for the night; but the following day had quarters assigned to us about one mile from the river, and as all our equipment for camp and garrison had followed us, we soon had all our tents pitched and camp furniture in place.
General O. S. Ferry remained as our Division General, and Dr. Sol Van Etten the Division Surgeon. General Hunter commanded the Department; Surgeon Crane, U. S. A., was Medical Director, and Dr. J. J. Craven the Medical Purveyor, and attached to Hunter's command was General Charles Halpine, otherwise knows as Miles O'Reilly, who was not only a wit but a poet of no mean order.
While we were stationed on St. Helena Island some soldiers from General James Nagle's command made a foray on Parris Island and killed a bull, the only one on the island, and its owner came to the headquarters of General Hunter sadly lamenting his loss. The occasion inspired General Halpine to issue the following:
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.