USA > Maine > First Maine bugle, 1893 (history of 1st Maine Cavalry) > Part 24
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The death rate here was large. The soldiers, because of their long confinement, had grown weak and actually starved, because what rations they did get they could not eat. During the time of my incarceration over thirteen thousand Union sol- diers died, and I don't hesitate to say ninety-five per cent of them were starved to death. When I bring to mind the scenes of Andersonville I am at a loss for words to express myself. The English language is inadequate and cannot portray the misery, suffering and heroic endurance of the brave boys who, martyrs to the cause of freedom and union of states, to the perpetuity of the nation, finally surrendered their lives.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." In this prison the men were organized into divisions, companies and squads, cach having one of their number at the head to draw their rations and look after their welfare generally. Rations were issued once a day and generally in the afternoon. The quantity was small and the quality was poor. For instance, two to six ounces raw bacon, four to twelve ounces corn bread and in exchange
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FIRST MAINE BUCLE.
beans, meal and molasses. Amount of solid food for twenty four hours issued to the prisoners was from twelve to cighteen ounces.
In contrast, the food given by the Algerine pirates to their prisoners and slaves was more and better, showing the wanton neglect of the rebel authorities towards the lives of their prison- ers. The U. S. government allowed the Confederates, whom they held as prisoners, thirty-eight ounces of solid food at first, but in June, 1864, they reduced the ration to thirty-four and one-half ounces per day.
In the Dartmoor prison, England, where our soldiers were confined by the English when taken prisoners during the last war, of which so much cruelty has been alleged, the authori- ties allowed them the first five days in the week twenty-four ounces corn bread, eight ounces beef, four ounces barley, one- third ounce salt (here let me say during my imprisonment I never drew one grain of salt, nor do I know of any being issued to any of the prioners), one-half ounce onions and sixteen ounces turnips daily-more than fifty ounces solid food ; and the other two days the usual allowance of bread and sixteen ounces pickled fish.
The daily allowance to our men at the Melville Island prison. Halifax, during the last war was sixteen ounces of bread, sixteen ounces of beef and one gill of peas.
Slowly and listlessly, with dulled eyes and weakened foot- steps, day and night could be seen wending their way to and fro along the Broadway of Andersonville prison, thousands of Uncle Sam's soldiers, foot sore, weary, dirty, naked and hungry, some with a small piece of corn bread in their possession, others with a bone, while others with a piece of tobacco in their hands which they had begged of the guard, crying out, "Who has got beans, beef, meal or molasses to trade for a bone, or bread or tobacco?" This was the mart, this the place where the prisoners could exchange rations, clothing, etc. Many a day have I sat cross legged with two half canteens partly filled with mush which I had made of my ration of raw meal, the gill of molasses divided between the two dishes, crying out, "Who
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SUNSHINE AND SHADES OF ARMY LIFE.
has got beef, beans, meal, tobacco, old tin dipper, or anything to trade for a dish of hot mush?" By this dickering and beg- ging of the guards I managed to get along very comfortably under the circumstances. Capt. Wirz, the commandant of An- dersonville prison was hanged because of his abuse to the prisoners.
Many a time I have seen the captain riding into the stockade upon his old white horse, cursing the prisoners and threatening to shoot them if they didn't do thus and so. Many a time I have heard him say in reply to some poor, sick, dying prisoner, begging of him for more to eat: "Damn you, I'll give you bullets for bread !" Well, finally, the time came when the prisoners were released from this hell, and when for the first time in seventeen months and seventeen days I beheld at Vicks- burg, Miss., the grand old flag, the stars and stripes, flying on high, bidding our men welcome to its folds, and promising care and protection, my eyes filled with tears as I answered to my name when the roll was called, and I was bidden to pass over the line from my wretched state of long confinement, suffering and privations to liberty, to happiness. I well remember how I hallooed and cried, how for a long time I fixed my eyes upon the stars and stripes, and asked myself over again and again, "Am I liberated?" The hard bread, the pork, the potatoes and hot coffee of Uncle Sam's furnishing, O how good these were.
The sanitary commission and Christian commission were there in goodly numbers and did noble work. The sick were nursed and kindly cared for ; pen, ink and paper were provided and the prisoner permitted to write home. But alas! in the triumph of their release and effulgence of joy to many a relapse came; having exerted all their strength to reach our fines, they drooped and died by the wayside, not being per- mitted after all to reach home and friends. After a short stay in camp at Vicksburg transport was taken to St. Louis, six hun- dred miles up the Mississippi river, and after a few days in bar- racks at St. Louis, by rail I crossed the country to Washington, from there to Augusta, Me., where I was discharged.
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FIRST MAINE BUGLE.
The Battle Scene Remains.
GEO. S. BERRY, BOWDOIN, '86.
Somewhere in the expanse of heaven Is photographed the scene of every fight, The flash of guns, the cannon's smoke, The sturdy grandeur of each sullen front Is placed and held forever.
The memory of each bloody field Is held till death by all who fought; To all the rest a battle's but a name; We see no landscape, listen to no sound; We cannot see the charge, the route, And comrades falling one by one.
The battle scene of Gettysburg, And kindred fights, is fresh to-day Within the depths of many thousand minds; The mention of the name brings up To many hearts the old exciting fire, The aspect of a hill, a dale, a brook, With bullets flying, and men falling.
But slowly as the days go by Those visions fade, first here, now there, As death goes stalking round, And takes the picture from each mind; Until at last not one is left, And heaven alone retains The picture of that awful day.
GETTING THE WEATHER GAGE OF THE MARINES, 55
Getting the Weather Gage of the Marines.
BY HENRY T. DARTLETT, BUGLER FIRST MASS. CAVALRY.
During the winter of 1861 my cousin, who was a widower and a shipbuilder, engaged me to take charge of his family and stock farm located a few miles from his ship-yard, while he went to Virginia with men, teams and tools, etc., for a cargo of ship timber. When he had nearly completed his cutting on the James river a short distance above Norfolk, he received notice to leave the State within twenty-four hours. His teams, tools and timber had to be abandoned for personal safety, and he succeeded in reaching his ship with his men and setting sail without being further molested.
While this was going on the three months troops were called out and I was praying for my cousin's return. I went down to the port on the day the troops left for the front and I longed to go with them. My cousin met further misfortune by being shipwrecked off " Holmes Hole" and his return delayed there- by. As soon as he arrived I lost no time in going to Boston where, with my brother, (afterwards Sergt. Co. UI, Ist Mass. Cav.) I joined an independent rifle company. After drilling about a month we offered our services to the governor, only to be told that we must disband and return to our homes, as he already had more men than he knew what to do with.
( Looking at the statistics of the war I find that of the six New England States, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut, furnished 24,254 men more than their quotas. Of this surplus, quite a respectable corps, Massachusetts fur- nished 31 12 per cent.)
Not to be able to enlist when I wanted to, and when I could enlist to be told to go home, made me feel very much like the dog that had been chained up all the week and was then allowed to follow his master to the edge of the woods on a Sunday, to
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FIRST MAINE BUGLE.
be suddenly told to " Go home !" I firmly resolved that if the governor should ever require any more men, he would have to wait for me until I was good and ready. But the summer of 1862 brought a call from President Lincoln, and in August of that year my brother and I -- inseparable in thought and action -- enlisted again, this time as recruits for the First Massachu- setts Infantry. For some inexplicable reason, when the recruits were sent forward, our names were not called and, in spite of our protests we were not allowed to proceed with the rest of the boys. Third disappointment.
In the barracks next to ours at Cambridge were quartered about two hundred and forty recruits for the First Massachu- setts Cavalry Regiment, and before going home we enrolled our names as cavalrymen on the same quota as formerly. Our sev- eral enlistments made us feel like veterans, and our enforced roving experience enabled us to quickly adapt ourselves to new conditions, and be of some service to our comrades. They were a fine body of men and chiefly from the suburban towns and from the interior of the State. Our barracks, while intended for only one-half the number of men they contained, became known as the cleanest and most orderly in camp. We took our first lessons of dismounted cavalry drill and saber exer- cise from Sergt. Duchesney of the regiment, then on leave of absence. When the time arrived for us to go to the front wc had as orderly a set of men as ever left the State under com- missioned officers. We arrived in Washington with the loss of only one man and, as the freight cars were crowded many rode and slept on the car roofs, we concluded that he had rolled off the roof in the night time somewhere between Baltimore and Washington.
It was now in the early days of September, and we immedi- ately expected to join the two battalions of the regiment that had come up from South Carolina in the command of Col. Robert Williams. After obtaining refreshments at the "Sol- diers' Relief," formerly known as the " Mount Vernon Cane Factory," we marched to Seventh Street Park and went into camp. Sibley tents were supplied - accommodating about
1
GETTING THE WEATHER GAGE OF THE MARINES. 57
twenty men each-and pitched on a knoll just back of the grove, where the Howard University for colored students now stands. From here details were made in squads of forty to guard government stores at the wharves, the relieved men turn- ing their sabers over to the new guard.
Government rations were tardy in reaching our camp although we were doing duty enough to claim some attention. We pieced out our scant fare by purchasing truck from the German, Irish and colored peddlers that swarmed about our camp, using postage stamps for small change. Finally a lot of mouldy, moving hard tack was issued us that had been shipped to Hilton Head and back again. One morning it was found that quite a lot of these live sandwiches were missing, and it was said that they had run the guard during the night and escaped. (In the days of General Jackson news reached the backwoods slowly or not at all. So the fact that the rights of pre-emption in regard to food had been abolished under Statute 12 by Charles II. had never reached these worms.) We declared them rebels and invaders of our rights and sentenced them and their belong- ings to be burned at the stake. I wrote a letter of complaint to the commissary general and was about to mail it when rations arrived, consisting of soft bread, beans, rice, syrup and potatoes. It was a narrow escape for the commissary --- and myself. Many of our men were very ill, and my letter home of the twenty- eighth of September, '62, says: "One of the recruits named Alexander Stanley of Marblehead, Mass., died last night of scarlet fever. We took up a collection among the boys and sent his body home at the cost of $70.00."
Hearing the bugle calls from the camp of "Scott's Nine Hundred" near by and watching Burnside's Corps tramp up the road in pursuit of General Lee, made us feel that, although we were not with the regiment, we were very near the front. Then, beneath the shadow of trees that are still standing in the park, we busied ourselves writing what we then thought might be our last letters to the loved ones at home. But General Lee was fought at Antietam ( known in 1839 as Anti Etam ) without our assistance. The returning troops excited our admiration,
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and we became impatient to get a crack at the enemy before peace should be declared; for rumors were afloat that Jefi Davis was about to send peace commissioners to the city.
On the 30th of Sept. we were ordered to Camp Williams, East Capitol Hill, beyond what is now know known as Lincoln Park, and about one and a half miles from the Capitol. About sundown of that day I was put in charge of the First Squad and told to find my way to the new camp. Arriving at the east front of the Capitol I rested my men on the steps of the edifice, and inspected the statue of the Goddess of Liberty by twilight, as it stood in the shrubbery of the little park opposite awaiting the completion of the dome which it now surmounts. It grew dark rapidly. Resuming the march, we left the God- dess and the Capitol to our rear and proceeded over the plain to the east. The flickering light of camp-fires to the right, to the left, and in front of us was more bewildering than helpful. Seven of my men who were in a hurry to reach camp in time to have a game of poker (whatever that may be) left the col- umn and started off briskly on their own account. Seeing this movement, I marked them for extra duty and quietly gave the order "Left oblique, march !" The delinquents soon returned and fell in at the rear of the column.
In due time we arrived in camp and there found a portion of the regiment including the band. Major H. L. Higginson had command. Horses and equipments were issued, and instruction in mounted and dismounted drill commenced in earnest. Not far from our camp was the eastern branch of the Potomac where we watered our horses, bathed, and rinsed our clothes in the copper-colored washings of the soil. Situated on this branch about a mile south-west of our camp was the navy yard ; the regulation high wall surrounded it on the land, and through the grilled entrance gate, an occasional glimpse could be had of a marine pacing his imprisoned beat. All about our camp and stretching away to the Capitol, was a barren waste that was either very dusty or very muddy. Sudden storms occasionally swept over this plain with great fury, giving us lively and disa- greeable times.
GETTING THE WEATHER GAGE OF THE MARINES. 59
I remember one such storm that came up just as I was posting stable guard for the night. The westerly whirl- wind, gathering up the dust in its course, struck our camp with blinding force, overturning tents and forges, and destroying the military order of things in general. Then a black cloud was ripped open by the lightning and the rain came down, changing the whirling dust into mud pellets. The peals of thunder sounded as though the heavens were falling and bumping down the zig-zag course of the lightning, and the surface of the ground was changed in a twinkling, to a slimy, slippery paste. But the rain enabled us to open our eyes and look to our horses. In their endeavors to shield their heads from storm, they had become entangled over and under their halter-straps, and some of them had straddled the picket rope. Others in their terror had broken away and were madly rushing about over the pros- trate tents and the men struggling beneath them. The fright- ened beasts that remained at the picket rope were a sight to be- hold, and never to be forgotten. Heads that were free were bit- ing. Legs that were not entangled and some that were entan- gled, were kicking, There was nothing to do but to release the bound horses and secure the loose ones. Facing the enemy's batteries at the usual distance in later years, was preferable to short range with both ends of those scared animals. The storm lasted only about twenty minutrs, but it was far into the night before order was restored.
At this time a great deal of interest was centered in the "Monitor" that was still lying at the navy yard for repairs, after her fight with the "Merrimac." Many attempts had been made to obtain passes into the yard to visit her, but without success. My brother and I had just returned from a visit to Alexandria, and to the First Massachusetts Infantry beyond, on a pass is- sued by General Casey, signed by N. S. Jeffres, assistant adju- tant general, and still in my possession. I decided it would be useless to apply for another pass from camp, though I wanted very much to see the Monitor. Calling one of the recruits named Abel, I proposed that we go down the Eastern Branich and try to get a glimpse of her. Taking the first off-duty after-
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FIRST MAINE BUGLE.
noon for that purpose we stole out of camp and followed along the Branch to the Anacostia Bridge then, looking down stream we saw the Monitor at the navy yard wharf, about a thousand feet distant. The view from that point was only ag- gravating, so we hunted up a boat and hired a large boy to row us down so that we could "touch the sides of the Monitor." He agreed to do it for "twenty-five cents a touch."
Proceeding down stream we saw an officer step from the Mon- itor's deck into a boat along side and then the crew pulled for a steamer lying out in the stream. When the officers' boat was well out on the way, we ran our boat alongside the bows of the Monitor and, as we did so, the marine relief, armed with mus- kets, came along to relieve the sentry on the wharf opposite us. Watching our chance we took position with the turret of the Monitor somewhat in line between the relief and ourselves and, as the two sentries came to the position of "port arms" we crawled on board. Telling the boy to go away and not to re- turn, we fairly dove through the port-hole of the turret and went below. We imagined the marine with vigilant eye, pacing his beat. In the lower deck we found several naval officers and a couple of ladies making a tour of inspection. The officers saluted us and the ladies bowed. Evidently they were not fa- miliar with the neat, new cavalry jackets that we wore. With- out putting our "heels on the same line," etc, we returned the salutes, and the ladies-we had not met any ladies for two whole months-received the homage that even naval officers could not criticise.
We examined the state-rooms, store-rooms, cabins, engine room, etc., and stepped into the covered outlook where Lieu- tenant Warden was stationed during the celebrated fight, and where he was nearly killed by the shots of the Merrimac strik- ing the iron beams just above his head. All the furniture had been removed in order to give every part of the craft a thorough overhauling. "I looked in vain for a piece of iron small enough to conceal about my person ; but in the First Lieutenant's room I picked up a pen with a broken nib, and a bit of a broken mir- ror, about two inches in length, which I still keep among my treasures.
GETTING THE WEATHER GAGE OF THE MARINES. 61
After the other visitors had disappeared above, I found a sheet of writing paper on which I drew a plan of the lower deck with all its compartments, and an elevation of the turret. On returning to camp I wrote out a description of the Monitor on the back of this drawing and mailed it to my wife, who has carefully preserved it through all these years. Returning to the upper deck we examined the turret and the indentures made by the enemy's shot. We were surprised to find how little damage had been done. Here my companion secured the head of a bolt that had been cut off with a cold chisel by one of the workmen. This bolt head has since been loaned to exhibits of war relics, and is highly prized as a memento of that visit.
We passed up onto the wharf with the other visitors, while the marine with the vigilant eye continued to pace his beat. As we walked about the yard looking at the piles of shot and ancient cannon, we discussed our chances of passing out at the main gate without being challenged. If we were challenged and found without passes, would we be searched? If searched and my drawing found, what would become of us? But look- ing at piles of shot did not answer the questions, so we con- cluded to put on a bold front and brave it out with the guard. It was agreed that I should answer any challenge, while my companion was to support whatever I might say in reply. We walked straight toward the main gate without appearing to notice the sentry near by, but he would not be ignored. Bring- ing his piece from a "right shoulder " to a " ready," he cried out "Halt!" We halted. Then our passes were demanded. I tried to pacify him by saying, " Look here, sentry, we belong to a cavalry regiment a short distance above here, guarding the Branch, and we go about without passes; we did not require passes to come in with, and we expect to go out the same way."
The sentry would not be convinced and called out, "Corporal of the Guard, Post Number One !" The corporal, a big blus- tering fellow came running from an adjoining building. The sentry told his story including our excuses ; then the corporal questioned us sharply as to how we gained admittance. Assum- ing an air of astonishment I said, "Why, Corporal, how could
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FIRST MAINE BUGLE.
we come in except through the gateway, yonder? We came in, as you see, without passes, and we expect to go out without any nonsense."
Then the corporal grew red in the face and threatened to put us under arrest. "Well Corporal," I said, "if you want to know, I will tell you how we came in here." Then he listened as I frankly told him how we climbed aboard the Monitor from a small boat, while he was posting his relief at the wharf. That corporals face was a picture. We kept perfectly cool while he became confused and looked, as my companion afterward re- marked, "as though he was not quite sure of anything." The corporal looked around, consulted with the sentry a moment then, opening the gate, called out, "Here! you get out of this, and don't come around here again." That was all we wanted. I was acquainted with guard duty enough to know that the cor- poral was in a bad fix for, if he reported us, discipline would probably fall on both him and his detail, and we would released, anyway. We thanked the corporal and returned to camp with- out being missed. In the evening we showed our little trophies, and gave the boys an account of our first scounting expedition and how a couple of "raw recruits" got the best of the marines.
L
THE
CAVALRY SOCIETY
OF THE
ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
CONSTITUTION, BY-LAWS,
AND
RECORD OF PROCEEDINGS
OF THE
MEETING HELD AT BOSTON, MASS.,
June 27 and 28, 1893.
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FIRST MAINE BUGLE.
Constitution.
1 .-- The name of this Association shall be "THE CAVALRY SOCIETY OF TH ARMIES OF THE UNTED STATES."
II .- Any honorably discharged officer or soldier, who at any time his served in the Cavalry Corps in the said Armies, shall be entitled to membership in the Society. .
III .-- The object of the Society shall be the promotion of kindly feeling, the revit .. 1 of old associations, and the collection and preservation of records of the services rendered hy this Corps during the "War of the Rebellion."
IV .- The officers of the Society shall consist of a President, seven Vice-presidents. Secretary, Treasurer, and Historian, who shall be, with the exception of the Historian, elected at each meeting of the Society.
V .- The duties of the President shall be to preside at the annual meetings, to call extraordinary meetings of the Society in case of necessity, and to issue such orders as may be necessary for the good government and control of the Society.
VI .-- The Vice-president shall exercise the powers of the President in case of the absence of that officer,
VII .- The Secretary shall keep a record of the minutes of the Society, a Roll of Members, and perform all duties usually pertaining to an office of such character
VIII .-- The Treasurer shall have control of all funds, to be expended only on ap- proval of the President, and shall render an account of all disbursments at the annual meeting of the Society.
IX .--- The Historian shall prepare for the use of the Secretary a History of the Cavalry Corps, and of all matters connected therewith of interest to the Society.
X .- There shall be a Standard Bearer, who shall be an officer of the Society, an i who shall be appointed at each annual meeting, by the President. The duties of the Standard Bearer shall be to have charge and custody of the Flag of the Society, and carry it on all occasions of ceremony when the Society shall be present.
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