Part 9

May 3d the boys marched to Moccasin Branch, an easy tramp of eight miles. There they found the most primitive methods of farm life in the wilderness, still in operation. The old man had his tan vat behind the house. A stump was scooped out to serve as a mortar for making samp or hominy. His apparatus for sugar-making--the rollers for crushing cane and the sugar out-fit generally, all were of the simplest design. But the sour oranges there were fully up-to-date in their intensity.

May 4th, after an absence of one week, Co. G found themselves again in camp at Picolata. The detachment had marched one hundred miles and brought in fifteen hundred cattle of all sizes and ages. Co. G were becoming accustomed to good old Florida beef. The cattle were taken to Jacksonville for army and navy consumption.

The jaunt was rather enjoyed by the old trampers. On the recruits, however, it bore heavily, that being their first march in harness; but they did remarkably well.

The routine of camp life was again established, and quite easy it was. The heat of a far southern sun was becoming stronger and the boys felt languid. Moored along the river banks were dozens of dug-outs of every pattern, prizes taken along the shores; and these little boats afforded a diversion for any who could handle them. Some of the boys set night-lines and caught cat-fish. Others fished at night with torch and spear for the gar fish. Alligators were often seen floating with the current, or at night they were heard among the rushes bellowing like young bulls. Occasionally an alligator was shot.

The greatest pests Co. G found in Florida were mosquitoes and gnats. Many a blacksnake was seen with an occasional venomous snake, and water snakes, but no member of the regiment was bitten although they spread their blankets for the night, on the ground, without thought or precaution. Often small scorpions were found in the tents and rarely a centipede. But fleas were sometimes secreted in the hanging moss.

East Florida in those days, was mostly wilderness. Deer and other game abounded. Outside the picket line, for some time, the men on post were frequently annoyed by prowling wildcats, whose running about and snarling, broke the monotony of dark nights.

The view about Picolata was very pleasant when the plains were bright with flowers, when the land appeared worthy of its fair name. Florida is much improved in population and thrift in these later days and may be enjoyable. But for all their sunshine and flowers, their oranges and "'arly sarce," Co. G would not, in 1864, have parted with a single square acre out of old Lenox,--not for all East Florida.

Sunday, May 22nd, while the Picolata force were drawn up for inspection, two steamers arrived, together with the gunboat Ottawa.

Before this time, Col. Brown had been ordered to Hilton Head as Provost Marshall of the Department of the South. That change made Col. Carmichael ranking officer and he accordingly made requisition for companies A and F and also for the band, all of whom were at Fernandina.

Maj. Place had returned from imprisonment, and came up to Picolata in charge of the two companies. When the boys marched aboard the gunboat Ottawa the major was left in charge of the camp.

This time a landing was made opposite Pilatka, the men halting for the night seven miles further up the river.

May 23d the column marched to Middle Haw Creek, nearly twenty miles, reaching camp at 9 p.m. A junction was made there with troops from St. Augustine.

May 24th was hot and sultry. One day's rations were issued and the boys took the back-track for Picolata.

Near noon a halt was made near a large water hole and the men were told to fill their canteens, as no more water would be found until night. In the afternoon as they moved along the narrow trail they grew very thirsty, so that long before night many of the canteens were empty. As the night came on and no water was found, Col. Carmichael suspected some trickery from the guide, and he detailed two men with loaded pieces to escort the man and to shoot upon the first indication of treachery. And so they moved along, the poor guide insisting that he was right, only he had miscalculated distance. The boys of the 144th N. Y., were suffering from thirst and their colonel ordered his pioneers to dig for water. The guide called out,

"You'll not get water there."

"Where will we find it?" growled back a chorus of voices.

"Jist about two mile from yere."

"Are you sure?" asked Col. Carmichael.

"Yes, cunnel, I'm dead sure."

The colonel called to several mounted officers, and away they all went out into the darkness. Co. G sank upon the ground and waited patiently. After a time the colonel returned and reported water a short distance ahead and marching about a mile they reached Middleton's and were again on familiar ground. It was midnight before the boys had drank their coffee and were under the blankets. They were very tired, having marched thirty miles.

March 25, an easy march was promised the men and they made eight miles to Moccasin Branch, where they halted for dinner. Again taking the road the march was increased to thirteen miles, part of the way through a brisk summer shower.

The boys were halted that night in a lane not far from the shack where the colonel was quartered. Air to breathe seemed scarce and fleas appeared to be unusually active. At the miserable house the officers, lying on the floor, were much annoyed by the persistent occupation of hogs underneath them. Fleas gnawed the officers and they scratched and scolded. Fleas tortured the saw-backs and they humped themselves and rubbed against the floor-joists, and as they toiled they grunted. Out in the lane the men of Co. G were too busy to sleep. That little farm in the wilderness might have been the main supply station for all East Florida fleadom.

It was an easy march May 26th of only nine miles to Picolata. When the boys approached the camp Maj. Place came out to meet them with the band. Then Co. G braced up in style and stepped off to the good old tune of "The Girls We Left Behind Us." Co. G remembered the girls.

The object of the expedition, besides giving the boys an outing, was to gather up any loose rebels in the vicinity of Dunn's Lake. Probably there were more soldiers in that command alone, than the rebels had in the entire state of Florida at the time. There was no accounting for novelties in the department, illustrative of experimental or theoretical campaigning. And while Folly Island was anchored permanently, its suggestive and appropriate title was indelibly stamped upon nearly every expedition organized in the Department, from September, 1863, until the close of the war.

It was an extensive experiment station for the engineer officers of the army and for the navy. There they could study the flight of missiles and their force; the relative difference in guns and mortars, and resistance of sand and iron armor. In short, it was a safe school where many a favorite matriculated and from which very few graduated. It was called warfare, because there were hospitals there and many graves.

Soon after the return from the second excursion, Col. Carmichael with fifty picked men were taken across the river and landed near Green Cove Springs. They proceeded into the country, returning next day, having captured a rebel mail and several horses.

On Sunday, May 29th, two regiments came over from St. Augustine and the 157th boys were ordered to be ready to move at noon with four day's rations and sixty rounds of cartridges and rubber blanket or piece of shelter tent. The men were drawn up in line, expecting to move, and were finally returned to their quarters.

Next day a boat came up from below and Co. G, as night fell over the tropical scene, stepped once again upon a steamer and near midnight found themselves behind the works in front of Jacksonville.

The morning of the 31st the sun rose angry. Co. G still lay behind the works. There was mystery all around them; a sort of mystery peculiar to the climate--a lazy mystery. Co. G did not broach the mystery--when they were wanted, was time enough for them.

As soon as darkness came, the boys were marched aboard of a steamer and were taken about eighteen miles up the river and landed at the mouth of a creek, on the west bank.

It was long past bedtime when the boys laid themselves down to rest--3 o'clock in the morning. They were allowed to sleep until near daybreak and were then aroused very quietly, lest the rebels should hear. No fires were allowed and any boy who lighted a pipe, did so very slyly. The men were told to eat something, then to fill their canteens from a neighboring brook, as no more water would be found before night--a delightful country, that land of flowers.

Col. Noble of the 17th Conn., (a dignified officer whose hair was very gray) commanded the party. All officers were dismounted.

Soon after daylight the column started. It was composed of three or four regiments, one of them colored.

As the day lengthened, the heat grew intense. At noon time it was so hot the birds ceased their callings, butterflies took to cover; the horny leaves of the palmetto scrub curled as the corn leaves curl and twist under an August sun. Not the slightest breeze stirred the air; there was a bluish haze in the atmosphere.

As often it occurs on such a march, some of the men drink all the water in their canteens before the day is half gone. With care three pints of water can be made to last a long time. And on the present occasion, long before night, many of the men carried empty canteens. Among the colored men the suffering was marked. They became desperate and threatened to leave the column. Col. Noble finally drew a revolver and ordered them into the ranks.

At nightfall Camp Milton was reached, preparations were made for a battle. Co. G were thrown forward as skirmishers and advanced. The rebels had retreated.

Plenty of water was found in a narrow stream and the boys enjoyed their first cup of coffee of that day. They had marched thirty-two miles.

While they were eating their breakfast next morning, the pickets were driven in. As soon as possible Co. G were thrown forward. Pickets in front of them were firing rapidly. Co. G with arms at trail moved out in front a quarter of a mile, but saw nothing to shoot. The boys were not surprised--they had once camped on Folly Island.

Near noon the expedition started for Jacksonville, the 157th as rear guard. All went well until Camp Finnegan, twelve or fifteen miles from Jacksonville was reached. (Camps Milton and Finnegan were rebel camps). While crossing a small creek the enemy appeared on the opposite side of the clearing and opened fire at long range. A colored company, thrown out to cover the crossing, replied to the rebels. Again was Co. G ordered into skirmish line and their Enfield rifles soon closed the battle. One or two men were slightly wounded.

Many of the boys suffered on this return march, even more than on the preceding day. But they reached Jacksonville without further incident and were taken at once to the river and aboard a steamer. The events of the day had excited the people at headquarters and Col. Carmichael was ordered to again land his men and march them to the trenches for the night. He appealed for rations and was referred to the Sanitary Commission Agent, who issued to the 157th a barrel of milk crackers. The boys made the most of their opportunities, and soon were asleep in their old trenches at Jacksonville, and for the last time.

Next day, June 3d, the regiment went aboard a steamer and returned to Picolata.

The touring experience of Co. G in Florida was not luxurious. And when, after about four months stay, orders came to pack up and leave Picolata, not a regret was heard.

June 12th they swung away from the dock and the same evening were at Fernandina, and where amidst a chorus of "hellos!" the regiment was once more united.

On the 13th, the detachment in which was Co. G started for Hilton Head. The wind was right ahead and the vessel, a ferryboat; she pounded the sea like a thresher, and the captain put back to Fernandina. There they lay until the 16th of June, when the sea went down and the voyage was completed.

Co. G landed at Hilton Head on Thursday and went into camp. On the Saturday following a deserter belonging to another regiment was shot and Co. G was compelled to witness the execution. Poor deserter. Alas, for Co. G, to be drawn up to witness the killing of a man in cold blood! There were some phases of military life more brutal even than battles. Some formalities in the infliction of penalties, more horrible than the crime itself. And it is doubtful if the lesson thus taught, is made more impressive by a display of cruel ceremony. And the cowardice of the custom. No good soldier need be thus reminded that desertions in the face of the enemy is death. Let us hope, as time goes on, the nation will demand that unnecessary torture be avoided in warfare--that in order to punish one man, it is not necessary to torture his comrades.

Camp at Hilton Head was located out on the barren sand. During the day the tents were intolerably hot and for guards about the camp screens were built to shield them from the sun. At night cool breezes came in from the ocean and then the boys forgot the hungry fleas and slumbered.

Rigid sanitary rules were enforced. Ice was obtained from the Sanitary Commission to cool the lips of the sick ones in the hospital tent, and a barrel was kept supplied with iced water for general drinking purposes. That barrel, the boys will remember, was for some reason noticeably charged with the flavor of Tommy Reagan's "nice swate vinegar."

There was considerable sickness among the men and several deaths in the regiment.

The discharge of the hospital steward had left a vacancy to which W. H. Perry of Co. G had been promoted.

As for Co. G they kept as cool as possible. While those boys were not engaged in gathering laurels they were very watchful of those already gained.

The brush at Finnegan's Camp had whetted the appetite of Co. G for gore. They had fired four or five rounds at long range and unhorsed several johnnies. Quite an achievement in the Department of the South.

To work off their surplus ardor, or else to prevent their getting too fat and indolent, on the 1st of July, loaded down with cartridges and rations, the regiment marched aboard a steamer at dark and in the morning of the 2nd found themselves on the North Edisto river, and landed near Rockville, on John's Island. Co. G was soon on familiar ground. For the next few days the progress up John's Island was made under a scorching sun, estimated at 110 degrees in the shade (compared with previous observations). By July 5th the expedition was within six miles of Charleston. There had been but little resistance, although considerable powder had been burned.

On a foggy morning at daybreak of the 9th the rebels advanced in force. Capt. McWilliams and Lieut. Forbes, with detachments from the 157th held the center of the picket line until nearly surrounded.

Then, as customary in the Department, the forces of the expedition were "withdrawn in good order" and returned to their respective camps.

Did Gilmore or Foster ever wish to capture Charleston? Did the War Department desire its capture? Enough men composed that expedition (some five or six thousand troops) to have made a telling dash and if properly supported by the navy, a permanent footing might have been established quite near the city. Such sneaking up in the night, making faces at the surprised rebels next morning and then withdrawing "in good order," was burlesque warfare.

Unfortunately, now and then, a poor fellow fell under the rain of iron or the whistling lead, hundreds were sickening, many were dying on those desolate sands.

And while the boys were enduring such mock warfare, the dear ones at home thought of them only as their soldiers. One of the war poets sang--

"We sit at home, nor feel that they Who fight upon the distant plain Are falling faster, day by day, A harvest of the slain."

Indeed, there was little poetry in life among the sand hills, no music in the roar of old ocean, and no comfort with the fleas. The subject becomes tedious; and yet the boys of Co. G must be followed until the close.

The loss in the 157th on the second John's Island raid, was one man, a prisoner. A poor fellow nick-named "Lightning," who was considered mentally unsound. It is to be hoped the rebels did not regard that man as representing the regiment, whatever they might have thought of him as a representative of the Department in general.

As to the object of the expedition, history says, Gen. Foster was trying to draw troops to Charleston and thus relieve Gen. Sherman, who was advancing on his famous Atlanta campaign. The success of the movement is not known, but it is supposed troops were sent from the rebel army. Five thousand additional enemies would have added but little to the force before Sherman and his determined troops.

July 24th Co. G were temporarily detached to guard fifty rebel officers who had been sent down from the Northern prisons to be placed under fire on Morris Island. The brig Dragoon lay out in the stream at Hilton Head. It was the duty of Co. G to see that those officers did not escape. Among them were Gens. Gardner, the former commandant at Port Hudson; Ed. Johnson, a prominent officer; also Jeff Thompson. Archer and G. W. Stuart and a long list of colonels and subordinate officers.

Co. G did their duty and remained with their charge until an exchange was effected, which occurred a few days later.

In the first days of September six hundred officers, ranging in rank from colonels to lieutenants were sent down to be placed under fire before Charleston, in retaliation for a similar piece of shrewdness on the part of the rebels. As soon as Gilmore began to throw shells into Charleston the righteous indignation of rebels in the field and their sympathizers North reached the explosive point. The idea of retaliative measures was a product of the brain of Jeff Davis. Burning cities is legitimate warfare. Confining helpless prisoners under fire is barbarous.

Those six hundred rebel officers were to be placed in a stockade on Morris Island, built between Fort Strong and batteries on Cummings Point.

On the sixth of September the prisoners were landed at the island and were transferred to their new guard, the 54th Mass., a colored regiment.

Sept. 5th the camp was struck at Hilton Head and by a very accommodating order the men were permitted to take with them to Morris Island such little useful articles as they desired, and so it came to pass that the ferryboat conveying the camp equipage was generously laden with bundles of boards, rude benches and tables, wash-tubs and the like. So that a few hours' work by experienced hands made the boys as comfortable as in their former camp. About all they had parted with were the few fleas.

A few words in parting and the flea is given a rest. This sand-flea is a small affair,--not the sand-flea, or chigre, of science--but a genuine flea. Co. G became very expert catching him. When a boy was struck, down went his stocking, the flea slid into the coarse meshes, usually too late. Some of the sufferers became expert and caught the little raiders in the dark. One man has been known to awaken from his sleep with two captives, one between the thumb and fore finger of each hand. Reader, believe this, it is correct. If you cannot believe the story, forgive the man, for he was sorely tried.

The flea of Sweden undoubtedly was larger and more defiant. History states the Queen Christina kept a little wee cannon for the purpose of shooting them. The cannon is to be seen at Stockholm. Co. G found no flea too large to handle easily and effectually.

Camp on Morris Island was very clean, very hot and when the wind blew, quite unpleasant from the sand blowing into the eyes. Co. G, however, had become reconciled to all denials. They amused themselves as best they could. Drank plentifully of Levi Randall's dried-apple beer, scoured their brass jewelry and traded with the colored troops; read and re-read the old newspapers, wrote a little and slept, whenever permitted. At night large details were marched to Fort Putnam or Fort Chatfield, and there spent the night, if undisturbed, sleeping soundly, while the city gun roared three times every hour. Often a brisk firing between Sullivan's Island and other rebel forts, made the place uproarious and cartloads of iron were flying about. But they became accustomed to the shelling and paid it slight attention. Only one member of the regiment was struck by the shells and he persistently exposed himself.

Details were sent up to the Point, three miles from camp, on fatigue duty working on the fortifications. One day while a party of the regiment were thus engaged the rebels opened spitefully. By noontime the boys were hungry. Punctual came Pat Matthews with a kettle of Ziba's best pea soup, and Co. G were happy. The boys of other companies waited until the firing ceased, when their food came. This is not given to reflect upon other cooks, but to illustrate Pat's indifference to danger.

When the regiment lay in rear of the battery at Gettysburg, July 1st, the air was noisy with bursting shells, the pieces striking around viciously. And during that interesting hour the men lay very close to the earth.

"Where's Co. G? Ah, there yez are." It was Pat, who had brought them his camp kettle filled with cool water.

"Pat, what the divil are ye doing here? Don't ye hear them fellers?" Thus spoke his brother Jim.

Pat cocked his ear a moment, for he was quite deaf, then turned to the boys.

"Ah, what the divil do I care for them. Say, b'ys, don't yez want some water?"

Never did Ziba allow his boys to be neglected if he could prevent. Sometimes the marching was hard for him and then the boys carried his kettle. But if any company was better served, it is not known.

Much has been written of the "Swamp Angel," a gun planted away out in the marsh on the south side of Morris Island and a mile or more from Cummings Point. The battery consisted of one gun which burst after firing twenty or thirty shots; afterwards the place was occupied as an outpost. Beyond the "Angel" battery was another post called Paine's Dock. The dock was the historic floating battery used by the rebels in 1861, when Sumter was first attacked. Proving a veritable slaughter-pen it was dismantled and abandoned and floated away with the tide and grounded on the southern point of Morris Island. It received a new name in honor of Capt. Paine, a Union officer who, while scouting, was captured there. The pathway which led over the soft marsh to those points, was for two miles covered with planking. Frequently Co. G had representatives sent there on picket, who sometimes were obliged to seek refuge under Paine's Dock to escape the shells from a James Island battery known as "Bull-of-the-Woods."