CHAPTER III.

CAMP AMORY ON THE TRENT.

Returning to the freight house where the night had been spent, we shouldered our guns and knapsacks and started en route for our new home. Passing through the town, and recrossing the railroad bridge, we left the line of the railroad and took the road running along the edge of the Trent. After toiling through the sand for about a mile, we came upon a negro settlement and a long row of stables, once rebel cavalry quarters, now used for government team horses and as a sort of wagon station. An old canal boat, mounting two heavy guns, commands the spot as well as the surrounding country, which has been cleared of trees on both sides of the river to give free range to the artillery.

Shortly after leaving this dirty village, the barracks assigned us came in view, about half a mile up the river, a most welcome sight, for the day was hot, the road very sandy and our load heavy. The 17th Mass. were encamped in tents near by, and as our regiment approached, they turned out to meet us and give us welcome. Poor fellows! they looked forlorn enough, thin and pale, almost all of them having had the chills or some fever through the summer, from which they were just recovering, a great part of the regiment being still in hospital.

On reaching our destination, knapsacks were quickly unslung, and we hastened to inspect our new quarters. The barracks--unlike those at Readville--consisted of two long buildings, each arranged for five companies. They were at right angles with the river, and parallel to each other, some three hundred feet apart. The hospital tents were located midway between the buildings, but after a time the hospital was transferred to the barracks, rendered vacant by the detail of two of the companies. The officers occupied tents, which were pitched away from and opposite the river, facing and forming one side of a quadrangle, enclosed by the river, the barracks and the tents. Beyond the officers' quarters was the parade-ground, while the drill-ground lay in every direction.

Directly in the rear of the north barrack, ran the main road from Newbern south to Beaufort, crossing the Trent at this point, on what is called the County bridge. The bridge was commanded at that time by a little earthwork, called Fort Gaston, which mounted two guns, to all appearance more dangerous to those in their rear than in their front; this celebrated fort was for a long time garrisoned by one man detailed regularly from the camp guard.

An immense plain stretched out in front of us, some two or three miles in length, and a mile in width, bounded in our rear by the river, and skirted on all sides by fine forests. For the last two or three years, these have been gradually disappearing before the axe of the pioneer, thus leaving the approach to the city from this direction wholly under command of gun-boats on either of the rivers.

On the edge of the woods, on the opposite side of the plain, gleamed the white tents of the 23d Mass., just relieved from provost duty. The 43d went into camp a short distance beyond us, and not many weeks after our own arrival, the 51st Mass. were quartered in the barracks next beyond ours.

The camp took its name from Colonel Amory of the 17th Mass., who had command of our brigade, composed at first of the 17th, 23d, 43d, and 45th Mass. Later, the 51st Mass. took the place of the 23d, when the latter regiment was ordered into another department.

The first day or two was spent in establishing ourselves comfortably in our new quarters, writing letters, undergoing an inspection by our corps commander, Gen. Foster, and strolling about the adjacent country, seeing the sights and making friends with our neighbors, black as well as white. The camp swarmed with contrabands of all ages and both sexes, some with eatables to sell, apples, pies, cakes, biscuit and sweet potatoes, others wanting to take in washing. The boys wished to hire out as servants, and at such cheap rates that we all immediately had one attached to us, as a sort of body-guard, to run errands, draw water, wash dishes, and live on our leavings.

The negro huts in the vicinity of the camp were often visited by the curious, and the mode of life in them afforded us much pleasure, as it was at the same time novel and amusing. "Ole Aunt Gatsy" was quite a favorite with a select few who had discovered her various excellencies, and we were indebted to her cuisine for many a nice meal. Her method of cooking seemed very strange to eyes accustomed to ranges and stoves, and is worthy of mention. All the cooking is done at an open wood fire, the chimney always standing outside the house. The principal implement of cookery is an iron pot with short legs and a flat iron cover, somewhat larger than the mouth of the pot. After raking out a nice bed of coals, the food, no matter whether a bake, roast or boil, is placed in the pot over the coals, and the cover is kept constantly sprinkled with fresh coals until the contents are cooked. They also use the ordinary stew-pan, and earthen ovens in which they build huge fires, and, after the earth is thoroughly heated, put in the meat or whatever it may be, close both door and chimney, and in due time produce a joint of beef, or a dish of baked beans fit for the most epicurean New Englander.

We soon settled down into a quiet, monotonous life of drill and guard duty, more wearisome than arduous. The broad expanse of plain which stretched out before our camp was large enough for an army to manoeuvre upon, and the officers certainly made the most of their opportunity, for company, battalion and brigade drills followed one another so closely that one had scarcely time to think in the intervening moments. A very semi-occasional visit to town served as a pleasant little episode, by giving us a glimpse of an approach at least to a civilized existence, thereby preventing us from wholly lapsing into barbarism.

Nor were our Sundays by any means days of rest; for as regularly as the day itself, the weekly inspection of both quarters and men came round. The amount of cleaning done every Sunday was something awful. Guns had to be taken apart and made to look better than when they left the armory, brasses to be polished, shoes and equipments blacked, and bunks and barracks put in perfect order. This was varied occasionally by a knapsack inspection, which consisted in standing in the hot sun for an hour or two, our knapsacks on our backs, apparently filled with all our worldly goods; but appearances are sometimes deceitful, and so were our knapsacks, but if they only looked full, we were perfectly content.

In the afternoon we formed a hollow square and had a regular New England service, with a clear, practical sermon from the chaplain, finishing the exercises with the Doxology, in which both band and regiment were wont to join. The day closed with the usual dress-parade and a prayer meeting in the evening conducted by the chaplain.

Thanksgiving Day being close at hand, most of us began to busy ourselves making preparations for a proper observance of the day. Mysterious trips to town, frequent visits to Aunt Gatsy's, and a great scarcity of ready money were the most observable features. Thanksgiving eve arrived at last, clear and cold, and after the labors for the day were ended, we built a famous large fire in our barracks, and long after taps remained grouped about it, talking of home and former times in old Massachusetts when this anniversary came round. One by one the men dropped off to bed, until but four of us remained, when one of our number proposed whist by fire-light. The cards were quickly produced, and an impromptu lunch of crackers and cheese, apples and lemonade, contributed from our private stores, and there we played till the waning light of the fire warned us that our supply of wood was exhausted, whereupon we crept noiselessly to our bunks, not daring to think how soon the inexorable reveille would break in upon our slumbers.

After a sermon in the morning from the chaplain, in accordance with the good old custom of New England, the day was given as a holiday, and thanks to Old Aunty, our little party of six sat down to a repast which would not have disgraced any board in the land, and all agreed that we had rarely enjoyed a dinner more.

About this time, Colonel Codman received orders to detail two companies for special service, and for several days quite an excitement prevailed as to which they were to be. The question was settled by the departure, on the first of December, of Company C, for Morehead City, and on the next day, of Company G, under command of Lieutenant Thayer, for Fort Macon. Several of the officers and many of the men were also detached from the regiment about this same time. Captain Murdock, of Company G, went on to Colonel Amory's staff, as aide, and Lieutenant Dewson as Brigade Quarter-Master, his place being filled by Lieutenant Emmons, of Company E. Lieutenants Richardson, of Company A, and Blagden, of Company I, went into the Signal Corps, and never rejoined their command. The men were variously distributed, some on signal service, many as clerks at the various headquarters, assistants in the hospitals, teamsters, etc., thus materially weakening the regiment in point of numbers by these heavy details.

The first time the men went out on picket they made preparations enough for an expedition, and bade good-bye as if at the very least they were sure for Richmond, instead of simply bivouacing for a night across the Trent. The truth is, that so far from resembling that on the Potomac, picketing was with us rather a pleasant diversion than otherwise. There were six stations, all on the other side the Trent; the outermost station directly on the river, the others at intervals along the road. Each station was under command of a corporal; and the guard, equipped with blankets and rations, went out one morning and were relieved the next. Intended as a safeguard, and rather for practice than from any real expectation of an approach of the enemy in that direction, we had nevertheless, one night, an example of the practical working and great advantage of the picket guard. One of the outermost station fired upon what in the darkness he took to be a body of rebels, and the alarm was immediately communicated to the camp guard. The drummers beat the long roll, and in a very short time the whole camp was aroused, the regiment in line, and in readiness for the enemy whenever he saw fit to come. It was well for us, however, that we did not wait till he did come, but after standing shivering in the cold night air for about an hour, went back to the barracks, otherwise we might have stood there to this day.

The road to Newbern was considerably altered in appearance by the arrival of General Wessel's division of New York and Pennsylvania troops from Suffolk, Va., which encamped about half a mile from us; and as every day brought news of fresh arrivals, it was very evident that some movement was on foot in our department. Rumor was very busy about these times, and the camp was full of reports and stories. Charleston, Wilmington, and even Richmond itself were named as our destination. Nothing was thought, talked, or dreamt of, but the probable expedition, and if it had ended in talk, our loss under the influence of undue excitement would have been very heavy. But about the eighth of December, our feelings were somewhat relieved by the reading of marching orders to the regiment, three days being given to prepare for the march.

The note of preparation sounded through the camp, and all was bustle and confusion. Knapsacks were filled to overflowing with all our worldly possessions, and stowed in a schooner which came up the river to receive them, so that in case of an attack or fire in our absence, they at least might be secure, and indeed such good care did those on board take, that they have kept some of our things to this day.

It fell to my lot to be detailed on picket the last day, and so entrusting my property to the tender mercies of my chum, the guard started for the other side of the river, wholly ignorant as to whether they were to be left behind or not. However, having three old whalers from Nantucket as companions in misery, the day passed away very quickly, listening to their tales of sea life, its pleasures and dangers, but above all, its superiority to the life of a soldier. But my special wonder and admiration was excited by witnessing the relish with which they devoured the salt junk at their dinner, actually preferring it to fresh beef, to me a most unaccountable taste.

The night was bright and clear, and the moonlight glimmering through the tops of the old pine trees, lit up the scene just around us, but deepened the blackness of the shadows which hid themselves in the surrounding forest. As we sat round the smouldering embers of the deadened fire, wondering as to our probable fortune, whether the morrow would behold us on the march with the regiment, or ignominiously left behind to guard the camp, our doubts and fears were set at rest by the arrival of the lieutenant of the guard. He informed us that at ten o'clock the pickets were to be taken in, and at that hour we were to proceed to the barracks as quietly as possible. The hour came at last, and rolling up our blankets and shouldering our guns, before long we were once more in camp.

During our absence all our goods had been removed, rations distributed, and ammunition given out; while in anticipation of the hard work before them, all were sleeping quietly in their bunks, some poor fellows for the last time. Making all our preparations for the morrow as speedily as possible, we crawled upon the boards, and soon forgot our trials in the land of dreams.