Part 5

Soon after our arrival at camp orders had been issued prescribing a method of drying the ground under the tents, which had been provided with board floors. Strange to say, this order had been overlooked up to the present time, when it was enforced, and during the day the tents were shifted and the floors raised. Lime which was obtained at the Commissary's was liberally sprinkled around. The deaths in our Company proved that it was not the best thing in the world to sleep near the ground, from which rose malarial vapors. Sergeants Clift, Dabinett, Collins and Baxter, and Corporals Rusk and myself slept on cots and in hammocks and we kept good health, while, on the other hand, Corporals Cohen and Roe and Privates Kotzenberg and Newman had slept on the ground. One evening my hammock broke and I lay on the floor the rest of the night. The next morning I awoke with a decidedly heavy, listless feeling and made haste to mend my hammock, for I attributed that feeling to lying so near the earth. The camps all around had their tent floors two and three feet off the ground, and in nearly all the regiments which were under trees platforms were built in them on which the boys slept.

One morning, instead of a monotonous drill, the Company marched out into the country past the camps of regiments which had departed. In the Fourth Illinois camp the pools of water were knee deep and a bridge had been built to connect two battalions. This Regiment suffered greatly. It was under such conditions as these that the welcome order was received directing our Company to proceed to Pablo Beach on provost duty. This beach is one of the finest along the Atlantic coast and extends for eighteen miles north and south. Parties frequently make the trip to St. Augustine in carriages along its entire length. Bright and early Friday, August 23d, baggage and knapsacks were loaded on army wagons and eight o'clock found us moving towards Jacksonville to take ferry and train to the seashore. The handsome uniform of our regiment was always a subject of remark whenever we turned out for parade. This consisted of buff campaign hats, dark blue blouse, light blue trousers, with white stripes for the officers and non-coms, brown leggings, and in beautiful contrast was our red blanket in a roll from the left shoulder to the right hip. Our fancy friends of the Twenty-second and Twenty-third New York Regiments could not beat that combination.

Our spirits had been rising higher and higher and on the boat songs and jests livened things up. A curious incident of this trip is the fact that we crossed on the old ferryboat "Commodore Barney," built in 1857 for passenger service between New York and Brooklyn. It was transposed during the civil war, so the story runs, into a mushroom gunboat and stationed somewhere near Norfolk, Va. It was used also as a transport, and five years ago it took the trip south. On our left, tied up to wharves, were the filibusters "Three Friends" and "Dauntless," both of which did about as much toward bringing on the war as anything else. On the east side of the river were two wrecks, one a ferryboat, the other a sloop, both of which have been laying there for years and apparently in pretty good condition yet, typical of the want of energy to build up and prosper in spite of obstacles so often seen in the far south.

We were loaded on lumber cars. The smoke from the engine nearly suffocated us as we shifted in our seats to relieve ourselves from the rocking and jolting we got from the uneven tracks and springless cars. We covered the seventeen miles in about forty-five minutes. This included stops to take on wood for the engine. This stopping for wood must always be included in the time of traveling on the railroads of the Black belt, and it never failed to bring forth bright comments and jests from the boys, who found a great deal of amusement in it. We arrived safe and sound. It was this trip, however, that completely broke me down and I reported at the hospital soon after our arrival.

That night demons, snakes and alligators lurked in every corner. Fortunately my efforts at dislodging them threw me into a drenching perspiration, which broke up the high fever, after which I felt better. I was off duty for five days and afterwards enjoyed our stay at this place. The salt air brought out all the evil fevers which had gotten into our systems at Jacksonville and soon not forty men out of one hundred answered the roll. The duty was light, but we often found it necessary at times to appeal to the other companies on duty with us to help us out, so that some of our men should not go on duty two days in succession. We were particularly short in our non-commissioned officers. Out of six Sergeants and ten Corporals only Sergeant Baxter and myself were available for a whole week, Corporal Rusk having charge of the Quartermaster's Department, the rest being either sick or on furlough. A great many of our friends have been in hospitals, but have any of them seen the effects of typhoid after the most rigorous measures have been taken? Over four hundred men were at a convalescent hospital near the beach and they were in all stages of recovery. A few did not get well. On the ground floor were men who had fought the malady sufficiently to walk around and fold up their mattresses every morning. The floor space these occupied was needed in the day time. At every meal nourishing food was served and nearly two hundred young men stood in line, some with camp stools to rest upon every few steps. Oatmeal, rice and soups formed the principal diet, varied sometimes on Sunday by something more solid. But it was the general appearance of the poor fellows that sent a wave of sadness over me. "Who knows," said I, "but I may be like one of these myself some day." These invalids were improving, however. But upstairs, the more recent arrivals were lying upon cots, helpless, gazing into space, their teeth showing between bands of white skin once full red lips, a wasted arm thrust out with the flesh between the bones shrunken. A terrible sight. The boys who so bravely marched to war wanted now only to see the dear home once more.

The food issued to the company at this time was about the same as it had always been, but once or twice a day we were sure of some combination of the coarse food that would astonish and delight us, thanks to the skill of a competent black cook, Bob by name, who had seen considerable service on board tugs and other craft around the city of Jacksonville, and also to the tireless persistent devotion to his duty of our Quartermaster, who succeeded in obtaining oat meal, sugar, raisins and other things not on Uncle Sam's bill of fare. Oat meal and milk, which savored of our northern homes, was furnished to the sick of the company.

After the first two weeks at this camp those who had been in the hospital and those who had withstood the fever so far began to brighten and to gain strength and they continued to do so until we started for home, and also because of two conditions--our position at the seashore and our well cooked food. The morning after our arrival we were struck with consternation on hearing of Corporal George H. Roe's death at Jacksonville. His was a serious case when he was taken from camp and we heard no encouraging news from him; but nevertheless when the message reached us it was quite a shock. He was Senior Corporal in the Company and was extremely popular. His body was sent to his home in Auburn, N.Y., where it was met by a bereaved mother and carefully laid away near the side of his father.

Two days after the death of Corporal Roe occurred the tragic death of Private Peter Reddy by drowning in the surf. He evidently got beyond his depth and was caught in an undertow which speedily exhausted his strength. Private John B. Buck, of Company B, Second Alabama, seeing Reddy's danger, immediately swam out to his assistance and after an heroic struggle finally brought him, already dead, within reach of willing hands. But all the efforts at resuscitating him were unavailing and the surgeon pronounced him dead. Not being satisfied with this official announcement, his comrades carried him to the company street and worked over him for nearly an hour, but without result. He left at home a wife and three young children. The Company felt these two deaths severely. We had now lost five men from the ranks. Men were going to the hospital daily, and we wondered on whom the lightning would next fall.

In the midst of all this gloom suddenly appeared the commission appointed by the Governor to investigate the condition of the Second and its willingness and fitness to proceed to Cuba. This commission was composed of Gen. Bird W. Spencer, Inspector General of Rifle Practice State of New Jersey, Senator William M. Johnson, and ex-Judge James M. Van Valen. General Spencer polled the nine companies at Jacksonville camp and the one on provost guard in the city; Senator Johnson, Company G, in charge of the rifle range, and Judge Van Valen, our Company at the seashore. I was delighted to be recognized by the Judge as the son of a once close friend of his. The result of the poll determined the Governor to petition the War Department to have our Regiment mustered out.

PART SIXTH

PABLO BEACH AND THE JOURNEY HOME

September 2d the Regiment moved down and occupied the ground to the south of us about one mile and one hundred yards from the ocean. The ground was covered with scrub palmettos, the roots of which ran all over the ground. This necessitated considerable axe work before tents could be pitched, and it was late in the evening when the camp was finally in a condition to sleep. Rattlesnakes seemed all too plentiful in this scrub and boldly invaded the camp. One careless young man crawled into his tent without first exploring its interior and was badly bitten by one of these horrible reptiles. The idea of sleeping amongst such bedfellows was anything but pleasant, and the weather now becoming stormy and cooler, the danger from the snakes increased, for they had a natural tendency to seek the warmth which they could find alongside a sleeping body. Before we left other regiments camped to the south of our Regiment, notably Colonel Bryan's Nebraskan.

A favorable pastime of the boys was to go out to the beach at daylight for a swim in the surf and incidentally gather the pretty delicate ribbed shells, which seemed to reflect all the rays of the rising sun, which here shone out in all its glory. This King of Day made a most gorgeous picture, such as I had believed existed only in an artist's very elastic imagination. His golden shafts of beauty will never fade from my memory. We made quite a collection of shells and sent them home. There were two vacancies among the Corporals owing to the deaths of Roe and Cohen. Charles H. Wallis and Ed W. Killmer were appointed to fill those positions.

One evening, some time after taps had sounded and just as the boys had begun to have a drowsy feeling that sleeping on pine boards wasn't so very bad after all, a considerable commotion was raised in camp by the cry of fire. We hurriedly kicked off our blankets, gave a hitch or two to our trousers to keep them on, and then sallied out. One of the four frame houses at the north edge of our camp was on fire. These houses were built of only one thickness of board, having no plaster or lath. Standing in front and looking sharp, one could see pigs rooting behind the house. The building was like tinder and burned fiercely.

As we passed the quarters of the company of Texans who were on guard with us, their bugler was trying to blow his head off with a lot of weird, shrill blasts, which their Captain kindly explained in forcible language was the "fire-call," and he'd be so and so if he wouldn't court-martial every son of a Texan if they didn't fall in and obey orders. There was considerable confusion around the house for a while, but the soldiers soon got to work under the leadership of the officers. Members of our Company climbed up the front porch and to the roof of the adjoining house, not thirty feet away, and sat there for over an hour wetting the roof and sides, while the steam floated around them. During the conflagration the half wild hogs and their litters would run up close to the flames, stare stupidly into the cauldron until it became too hot for them, when they would scamper away, grunting and squealing, into the brush. The house burned completely up, for not a stick was visible after it died out.

At this time we received word that the Regiment was to be mustered out, and a Regular Army officer who had been detailed to our Regiment ordered us to prepare our books for transmission to the War Department. This writing up of the records was a complete revelation to the companies. Not one in the Regiment had made any successful attempt to keep the books properly. G Company probably came the nearest to it, and theirs were the first to be O K'd. But it was over two weeks after the order was issued before the mustering officers could state just when the Regiment could start for home.

The final week proved a busy one indeed and the patience of the clerical force of the Regiment was tried sorely. Sergeant Baxter, Private Stevens and myself were detailed for this work, and we kept at it every day and sometimes far into the night. No instructions other than verbal had been given to start the machinery in motion. Nobody seemed to know just what should be done. Tedious work performed with care had to be done over again. Missing orders, letters and other documents had to be accounted for and records which could not be procured had to have affidavits made out to that effect.

When the men of the National Guard were mustered into service they had the uniform given them by the State, which in some instances had been worn over four years. They also received at Sea Girt new suits of State uniforms to replace old ones and got them with the understanding that the State would not charge for them. In one or two instances clothes were torn to get a new suit. Now the United States charges these same National Guardsmen for two suits of clothes--the suit which had been worn four years and the new one which did not fit, and in many cases had never been worn. The total amount charged us by the Government was over twenty-one dollars and this amount was deducted from each soldier's clothing allowance in the last payment.

The final order for striking tents was received on the 20th of September, and daylight of the 22d found us all ready to throw the tents, strap on our knapsacks and start home. The tents and baggage of the Company had to be loaded on flat cars. To do this a car of lumber had to be unloaded. It belonged to Colonel Bryan's Regiment and his men were going at the unloading in such a matter of fact way as to exasperate Lieutenant Blake, and at his order a dozen of our boys jumped on the load and commenced to get rid of it in such a way as to open the eyes of the Nebraskans. They were roundly chafed by their Lieutenant "for allowing a lot of Jerseymen to put you to sleep in unloading lumber, you who have handled it all your lives."

After this was completed the Company's luggage was packed away solidly upon this car and we were called into company formation ready for the train; but the railroad could only take one battalion at a time and it was after 1 o'clock before we could get started. The train had passed through a heavy shower and the floors of each car and the wooden bottoms to the seats were deep in water which had come in at the open windows. A heavy shower drenched us as we marched through Jacksonville. The boys received hearty handshakes from the friends they had made.

We were worrying about our wet blankets, which were strapped on top of our knapsacks, when we were ushered into Pullman sleeping coaches. It was an agreeable surprise and we immediately proceeded to ensconce ourselves in the most comfortable positions. In a short time, amid a lot of noise and banging of cartridges, we drew out of the depot, scurried out past camps and through groves, catching a glimpse of Torrey's rough riders, with whom we had left one of our number, out over rushing torrents, swelled to overflowing by the recent rains and covering vast areas with their yellow tumbling waters.

These we passed cautiously for fear of washouts. As we passed to the rear of Savannah it grew dark; but sitting musing at the window I could not help noting the wild, desolate region we were passing through. Here and there stood some giant tree stark naked in the moonlight and swaying from the branches, with gruesome effect, was that remarkable product of nature, Spanish or Florida moss, and I could not help recalling the shuddering stories told by Sherman's troopers of ghosts and dead men, clanking chains and bloodhounds of the Southern forest. The palmettos reared their shaggy heads in outline against the sky, for all the world like a jack-in-the-box of our childhood days; but I was here interrupted by my bedfellow, who insisted on my turning in, which I reluctantly did. But wasn't it jolly to lay on something softer than a plank? And after being served with our old stand-by, coffee, from a bathtub, we slept soundly.

We passed through Columbia, South Carolina, due north to Charlotte, North Carolina, and Salisbury, Greensboro, to Danville, Virginia, places made historic by Sherman and after the surrender at Appomattox. We stopped nearly an hour at Danville, and when we finally started again had a goodly stock of everything to eat. Up to this point we had passed acres of cotton in bloom, that farther south being taller and handsomer plants, and every stop brought portions of the royal plant of the South into the cars. In the early days of the Civil War the triumphant voice of the Confederacy proclaimed "King Cotton rules the earth." But before that strife of brothers ended the thunderous tones of the North drowned that in the South with "Corn, not Cotton, is King," and verily it proved so.

Lynchburg and Charlotteville, Virginia, ushered us into the tobacco district. But we saw very little of this plant, for it had just been gathered. Darkness settled down on us before reaching the latter town. Coffee awaited us there, and we were roused up at 10 o'clock to receive it in its virgin liquid purity. Nearly half the car as a result was awake all the rest of the night. At 4 a.m. on Saturday, we reached Washington and were greatly surprised and pleased to find that a bountiful lunch had been prepared for us by the good and thoughtful women of the Pension Bureau--grapes, apples, sandwiches and the best coffee we had had for five months. There will always remain in years to come one warm spot in the heart of each one of our boys for the patriotic devotion of these excellent women.

But now came a kaleidoscopic change. Instead of indifferently cultivated fields, barren wastes and swamps, behold here were fields teeming with corn and garden truck of all kinds. The farmers were out with their men hilling up the rows of celery, parsley and onions; fine pasture lands spread out before us; well fed cattle standing contentedly under drooping willows, and, to crown all, well built, substantial farm houses and barns, all denoted with an unmistakable stamp that which can be seen all through our Northern states--prosperity. Baltimore was reached at 7, Wilmington at 8, and Philadelphia at about 10 in the morning.

From Washington we had the extreme pleasure of going real fast, our train now running over the double tracks of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Speculation was rife as to when we would reach Sea Girt. Every stop or slow down would surely bring forth an impatient exclamation, and then wagers would be made all over again. But while this was going on we passed over the Delaware, and as the Jersey side was reached the enthusiasm vented itself in cheers, as we fully realized how near we were to home, and then how we did make time. We fairly seemed to fly, but it was all too slow, past farming-lands one acre of which was worth a dozen in the South; apple trees loaded with ripe fruit; fields of corn ready for the sickle, yellow pumpkins, savoring of delicious pies; _these_ were familiar home scenes, but temporarily lost sight of in our recent surroundings; past historic New Brunswick, Freehold and Princeton. At about 1.30 we pulled into Manasquan with Camp Voorhees in plain sight. Here we unloaded and, escorted by the Fourth Regiment Band, marched to camp, where Company L was taken in tow by Company L of the Fourth, and so on through the battalion. But it was a sight to see the fine rosy potatoes they had and the butter, "all you want on your bread." We marveled greatly, to say the least. This lunch was quickly over, and we boarded our section again. After several tedious waits we finally reached Rutherford a little before 7 in the evening, amid red fire and exploding crackers.

Through a dense mass of humanity the company marched. The scenes attending our leaving for the war were again enacted, but with three-fold vigor. Our relatives and friends struggled desperately to break through and forcibly grasp some husband, brother or son, and failing in this, would hysterically call out. Some were weeping, some were laughing, but it was all joy unalloyed. Our drill and discipline told to advantage here, and we succeeded in keeping our line, otherwise we would have been scattered to the winds.

We were formally welcomed back by Mayor Turner, representing the people of Rutherford and surrounding towns, and invited to partake of a banquet in the near future. Lieutenant Blake now saw that it was useless to try and hold the men together longer, so the final command to break ranks was given and then every man "Tommy" of us was hugged as he had never been hugged before. One week later the company assembled at Sea Girt and there received their furloughs, which held good until the final muster out at Paterson, November 21, 1898.

* * * * *

The month of May, 1898, had not passed before relief committees had organized for the purpose of looking after the families of those soldiers of the National Guard who decided that their duty to the State and the country demanded their presence at the front, and little ones at home were left without a bread winner and protector.

The members of this Relief Committee were Mayor E.J. Turner of Rutherford, Mayor William McKenzie of East Rutherford, Rev. J.Y. Hubach, and Messrs. Charles Burrows, Oscar Gunz, William H. Smith, James Leyland, Cornelius Collins, Edward A. Jeanneret, James A. Morgan, William H. Taylor and P.B.S. Hodges. This committee received a total of $1,218.64, all of which was spent in the good cause.

Sunday, July 10th, a Service of Thanksgiving took place at Grace Episcopal Church. Special prayers were offered for sick and wounded soldiers and sailors, and for those who mourned dead heroes. It was in accordance with the proclamation issued by the President, and the sermon by the Rev. Henry M. Ladd, was along National lines, emphasizing the duties of the Christian soldier. After the presentation of the offering, the congregation and clergyman read antiphonally the psalm for thanksgiving after a naval victory, singing at its close the "Gloria in Excelsis." The service closed with the prayer of thanks for victory at sea, and a prayer for peace, followed by the Benediction.

It was a stirring service, and to have taken part in it was the event of a lifetime, and not likely to be repeated. Services of like nature were held in all the churches.