Chapter II: Part 2

June 28th brought a very happy conclusion to our guard duty in Jacksonville, from which we were relieved by a company from the First North Carolina regiment. The company had been worked hard, and it was beginning to tell on us. Sergeant Collins at noon brought in the last detail, and as they marched proudly up the length of the company street they were applauded heartily. We could now take our old place at the left of the regiment and have the pleasure of serving under Lieutenant Blake in the field drills. There was no reason now why we should not become the record company of the regiment. The Wisconsin boys paid the regiment a visit one night. They were dressed only in their under garments, with their poncho's over their shoulders, and they had an elegant time. Our boys returned the visit the next night, in the same stylish undress, with the addition of a red blanket, instead of a poncho, leaving one arm bare to the shoulder. We then stuck our haversacks on our heads, with the flap trailing behind. The ridiculous get up was so taking that nearly half the regiment turned out, and headed by the drum corps, we marched past the Second Illinois camp and through the camps of the Second and Fourth Virginia, Second Wisconsin and Forty-ninth Iowa, in all of which officers and men turned out and cheered us. The comment of "Jersey, you're all right," seemed to fit the case exactly. All the mascots, big and little, turned out with us, even the red, white and blue rooster.

Arriving back in camp, the Colonel was called out and in a neat speech he complimented the men on their orderly behavior, wished us to have all the fun we could get, but warned us to keep within the bounds of military discipline. The efforts we had put forth to make ourselves ridiculous had covered us with perspiration and a thick layer of dust clung to everything that was exposed, so that we were a sight to make the iron faced gods laugh. The bathhouses were soon crowded, and far into the night shirtless human spectres were flitting through the streets.

We had a turn at drill the next morning and it was particularly severe. Hot! My, in the morning it seemed to blister, and we were soaked with perspiration, for we had regimental battle exercises; but as soon as we returned we stripped, got a bath and felt better. I remember distinctly that morning after the bath of sitting down in only my trousers and socks and writing a long letter to the folks at home.

In our night patrols of the city we came across some very nice people who took pains to get our names, and would ask for us if we did not appear on guard the next night. Upon their invitation I visited a family by the name of Rich, and while there two other of our boys came along, whereupon the table was spread and we had a nice afternoon lunch. Next day they sent us a big chocolate layer cake.

The champion watermelon eater of the company was universally conceded to be Private Isaac Wilson, and a meal seldom passed but Ike was seen up to his ears in melon. This fruit cost from 20 cents to nothing, according to the distance from camp. One depot commissary guard of eight men had six melons to eat. Ike was there and they disappeared very quickly. Every time the reliefs awoke during the night watermelon stared them in the face.

As we were upon the eve of very serious operations in Cuba, the authorities deemed it expedient to have the Articles of War read to the soldiers. There are 127, and we received them upon the installment plan at roll call in the morning and evening. Lieutenant Brunner read these so well that it was rumored he intended to lecture after the war was over on what not to do in war times.

A number of excellent entertainments were given in the Y.M.C.A. tent. The Second Illinois band gave a concert one evening, and on another occasion Sergeant Gift and Private Gillen sang solos, while Private F.M. Stevens played enjoyable selections upon the piano; at the close of which a premature announcement by the chaplain of the fall of Santiago was made, and an enthusiastic scene took place, while the cheering was taken up all over camp. The boys had been following events closely and all were eager for action. We felt keenly the hardships our comrades were enduring and wished to share them. We were at this time, perhaps, in better condition for an active campaign than at any time of our stay in the south, being fully equipped, in excellent spirits and good health.

PART FOURTH

PLEASURES OF THE CAMP.

For July 4th an elaborate program had been prepared, but owing to a considerable downpour of rain it was postponed to the next day. The celebration probably surpassed anything of its kind Jacksonville ever saw, and its features are not likely to be seen again. These were: 9 a.m., music and the reading of the Declaration of Independence, with speeches; 12 m., salute of 48 guns; 4.30 p.m., parade of all the troops in camp, numbering 12,000; but most interesting was the train of 189 pack mules connected with the regiment of Rough Riders commanded by Colonel Torrey. It was in genuine Rocky Mountain style, and created considerable interest. The Second Mississippi regiment of infantry turned out only half equipped, and the transition periods from a citizen to a trained soldier were seen to advantage. Our regiment paraded in good shape, with L Company in its honorable position at the left of the regiment. Owing to another downpour of rain the line of march was shortened, and after being reviewed we marched back to camp, drenched to the skin. The men all had changes of underclothing and no bad effects resulted, but the street next morning resembled the rear of a tenement in New York on wash day.

Sunday evening, July 8th, a detachment from each company of our regiment was assembled to attend service in the First Presbyterian Church of Jacksonville, and about 300 men, headed by the First Wisconsin band, left camp at 7 p.m. After the capture of the city by the Federal troops during the Civil War, this church was used by them as a hospital and the building has not been altered in any particular since then. The band led in the singing. It probably would have been pleasant out of doors, but in a boxlike structure of truly southern style, with the bass drum, snare drums and cymbals banging out "Nearer, My God, to Thee," it became a very trying experience indeed.

The flowers of Florida seemed to be rather a myth, very few being seen, but those of us who had friends at home who loved flowers were able to find some choice specimens. The handsomest wild flower I saw was the Hibiscus. It grew about five feet high in dense swampy thickets, usually at the edge of creeks. Its blossoms measured fully ten inches in diameter. Its great wide throat was crimson. Yellow sepals and four pink petals blotched with black completed this beautiful flower. They grow in profusion, and against a background of green leaves make a very showy appearance.

During our journey south I noticed large clumps of yellow Jack-in-the-Pulpits which were twice the size of our Jersey plants. The season of flowers in Florida is the months of February, March and April. Then the roses are in bloom. Marshal Neils grow in almost every garden in Jacksonville, some climbing to the tops of the houses, and upon the roof, late blossoms of tea roses were still to be seen. The Passion flower is very common, the climate favoring this aptly named blue and white legendary flower of the Crucifixion. Seeds of other flowers blown from gardens take root in the streets and empty lots, and among them the starry-eyed phlox lifts up its pleasant little face. Camellias also were very common, lading the air near them with rich perfume. Cannas reached perfection without any cultivation, short plants but immense flaming blossoms; others were yellow, blotched with red. The collecting of these flowers was a positive pleasure, even in the hot sun.

July 9th our regiment was swelled to its full complement by the addition of 330 recruits from Sea Girt, and a finer lot of young men did not come to camp for any regiment. More than this, the State had done for the Nation what no other had, equipped every man ready to go to the front. Time and again recruits would come from Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, Virginia and North Carolina dressed just as they appeared at home. As our boys marched through Jacksonville escorted by detachments from each company, they received considerable applause. They carried aloft the banner "New Jersey Recruits! This is the material that New Jersey sends." We were all proud of our State. At the camp their reception was cooled by a downpour of rain.

Monday morning, July 11th, it commenced to rain and it rained in torrents the rest of the day and all night. It flooded the tents, so that boards and even boxes had to be brought into service to stand on. The recruits, being quartered on lower ground, were practically drowned out, so that they either had to stand in the rain or seek shelter in tents already crowded to their limits. There was hardly a dry foot in camp Tuesday night.

A large number of 1884-model Springfield rifles arrived at this time and our regiment was supplied. Their newest feature was a ramrod bayonet, the dangerous end being cast like a bit. By giving a twist to the rifle after entering a body it would tear the flesh horribly. In other respects it was the same rifle used in the National Guard for years.

Thursday, July 14th, a telegram was received by Adjutant Hilton announcing the fall of Santiago. The news was genuine this time, and the occasion prompted an outburst of enthusiasm. Later on the good feeling was increased by the welcome command of "Fall in for your pay."

The coloring and shapes which the clouds assumed in the early evening were quite remarkable. One evening in particular, at about 6.30, a scarlet and white streak stretched across the heavens from north to south, and about five minutes afterwards a line of blue, which was as straight as if cut out with a knife, came across the north end, running east and west. The combination made a very striking similitude to an American flag.

At the waterworks in Jacksonville there was a pond in which lived an alligator of variously estimated lengths and age. One day while I was idly watching the game fish which also inhabited the pool, the keeper brought the saurian's noonday lunch in the shape of a live chicken. Coaxing the ugly reptile to come nearer the wire fence proved unavailing, so the chicken was thrown about one foot from his snout. Like a flash the great mouth opened, there was a splash, a few feathers, a couple of gulps, and the huge head was resting just the same as before, never moving an eye. The slang expression of "you can't lose me when grub is around" seemed to fit his case exactly.

A company fund was now established for the purpose of securing a greater variety of food, building a mess-house, and to pay the cook a few more dollars than the government provided. The assessment was 50 cents per month for each member. Arrangement was also made with a colored woman to do the clothes washing of the company, which also necessitated a payment of 50 cents a month per man. This was so cheap that very few could not afford it, and the wash was quite large each week. The intention of the company fund was to discourage the purchase of pies, cakes, ice cream, etc., all too frequently indulged in. Some of the "credits" obtained at these stores amounted to $3.00 or more, which the soldier was supposed to liquidate on pay-day.

Now that the signs pointed to an early termination of the war, the prospect of getting to Cuba grew less and less, and the boys commenced to turn their thoughts on pleasure. A large number of cameras made their appearance, and trips were taken for the purpose of getting views of Florida life. These pictures were developed in Jacksonville and usually sent home. Some excellent ones were obtained. Trips were made to Pablo Beach, a bathing resort on the coast to the east, St. Augustine, and up the St. Johns river, all of which were at reduced rates.

To the above list of diversions must be added a wedding. The ceremony took place in the Y.M.C.A. tent, and was between a member of the Second Illinois Regiment and his sweetheart from Chicago. The bride was fair, wore a white dress, with bouquets of orange blossoms at her belt and in her hair. The groom wore, in addition to his uniform, a high white collar that was the envy of all the boys and white kid gloves, which must have been excruciating. They received a great ovation upon leaving. Other marriages took place, some of which we did not hear of until reaching home. Some of our boys were regular attendants at church and sang in the choirs, being heartily welcomed by the good people of Jacksonville.

Early one Saturday morning Corporals Cohen, Rusk and myself decided upon a trip to St. Augustine. Inspection of quarters was completed at 8.30 a.m. and we immediately proceeded to Jacksonville to take the train south, there being no other duties during the day. The fare to soldiers had been reduced one-half, or 50 cents, which fact enabled large numbers of soldiers to take advantage of the trip. This day was no exception, and the cars were crowded. We went to the front of the train and there found an empty coach, save for two or three negroes. We decided that we were extremely fortunate indeed. The rear was partitioned off for baggage. The conductor happened through and asked us if we could not find room in the rear cars. We were surprised, but answered that we might have found room on the "roof." After he had left it dawned upon us that this was a car portioned off for negroes, as members of this race only came into it, so we very graciously asked those in the car if they had any objections to our staying there. The courtesy took them so much by surprise that they could only stare at us for answer. So we took our seats again and prepared to enjoy ourselves.

After a half hour's wait we were fairly started, only to stop every few miles to sidetrack and allow other trains to pass. These waits became so numerous that it was nearly noon before we reached St. Augustine and were just one and one-half hours behind schedule.

All the way down the forests seemed fresher and the flowers grew more thickly among the pines. The absence of charred, blackened areas was also noticeable.

The city, seen from a distance, reminded one strongly of a city of the Moors, for above the trees rose a bewildering labyrinth of towers and minarets, which carried us back to the charming descriptions in Irving's "Mahomet" and "Granada." We alighted at a very pretty and airy station surrounded by large beds of flowers and tropical plants. Among the many importuning jehus we selected one who took us free to a restaurant. The ebony driver was very loquacious; laughed when we laughed and interspersed gratis information which was highly interesting. We jested at the boys along the streets not so fortunate as we, and tried to cheer them up with the assurance that it was five miles at least to the nearest "grub."

The air was remarkably clear and bracing, and is so all the year round. Every garden seemed a mass of color. Oleanders were everywhere, filling the air with their spicy breath, drooping their great bowers of blossoms over the sidewalks. Every home had its well-kept lawns and shade trees, some with fountains playing enhanced the beauty of the place. The Memorial Presbyterian Church is very handsome, and contains one of the finest organs in the South. H.M. Flagler built this church in 1890 in memory of his daughter, and it is supposed to have cost $250,000. A little to the east is the Baptist church, built a few years later, with its heavy impressive front and tall, square tower, preserving the sedate architecture of this denomination, while conforming to the general tendency to things Moorish. But here on our right is one of the most magnificent hotels of the South, the Ponce de Leon, which stands alone the most handsome and unique of its kind in the United States. Built upon the style of the Moorish palaces of the fifteenth century, its architecture is at once voluptuous and elegant,--towers and minarets shooting up here and there. Its massive iron gates and chains with spiked balls, heavy oaken doors, courts, balconies, and marbled walks, are richly carved in Moorish figures. The gardens surrounding it are only such as a tropical climate can produce. Stately palmettos and palms shoot up their feathery tops above graceful bananas lazily waving their plumes in the fresh sea breeze; huge masses of oleanders, which here seem to reach their perfection, bending beneath the weight of their blossoms, formed arches of exquisite beauty across the walks; century plants, orange trees with leaves of the softest green imaginable while underneath were clusters of fruit of a still darker color, reminders of a golden harvest. Hydrangeas of enormous size, the leaves of which were entirely hidden by the great tresses of pink and blue flowers,--were scattered profusely in all directions. Roses seemed to grow everywhere, climbing over fences, into trees, up the sides of buildings--handsome ones that are strangers to northerners who have slim purses; and right in the midst of all this beauty of color were playing fountains sending sprays of silver ten and fifteen feet high. It is a veritable Garden of Eden. Henry M. Flagler is the controlling spirit in this beautiful palace, as he is in the other hotels, the massive Cordova and beautiful Alcazar, with their lovely gardens and fountains. Mr. Flagler's influence extends over the greater part of the east coast in hotels and railroads of this famous wintering State.

The older part of the town lies along the water front, just as the Spaniards had planned the city. On our left was an old building formerly used as a barracks, but now devoted to the manufacture of cigars and quite dilapidated. On the right stood a large square building which many times resounded with the laughter and possible braggadocio of the cavalier, for this was the residence of the Governor-General of the Floridas. It is now used as the post-office.

Our interesting guide announced that before us was the Plaza, where the landing of Menendez was celebrated September 7, 1565, amid the thunder of artillery and the blasts of trumpets, with the banner of Castile and Aragon unfurled. He immediately ordered the celebration of mass, while his soldiers chanted the Te Deum. He named the place St. Augustine, for he had sighted land on the feast day of that saint. The celebration of mass in this old city has been kept up uninterruptedly for 333 years. The old Cathedral with its four chimes (one of which has the date 1682) hanging from bars in niches of the steeple, give a truly Spanish flavor to the surroundings. The present old building was built in 1793; the original one having been destroyed by fire the previous year. A monument in the center of the Plaza marks the commemoration of the adoption of the Spanish constitution of 1812; also a monument of the Florida soldiers of the civil war stands here. Across the street on the right is Trinity Episcopal Church, consecrated in 1833 by Bishop Bowen of South Carolina.

Our restaurant now appearing, our interest in the "most ancient city" suddenly lapsed over the prospect of a good dinner. We had a chance to wash and then partook of a fine repast, the like of which we had not seen since leaving home. Fine bread, green corn, roast lamb and golden butter, and to crown all, a heaping saucer of ice cream, and all for 25 cents.

In the Plaza before mentioned stands a shed, covering a platform upon which for over 200 years slaves were bought and sold, and many a heart-rending scene took place there. The powder magazines of the Spanish were pointed out to us; now a barracks for a battery of artillery; also the oldest house in the United States, and now so improved (?) that hardly any of the quaint architecture is apparent. It is at present owned by a Dr. Carver.

Two monuments on St. Francis street commemorate the Dade massacre in December, 1835; Major Dade, Captain Frazer and one hundred men, after a desperate resistance, were mercilessly slaughtered by the Seminoles under Micanopy, an Indian who, tradition says, "could eat a calf at one sitting, and then coil up like a snake" to digest the repast. Osceola, chief of the Seminoles, slew General Thompson, the Indian Agent, and then waged a ruthless war which ended only after the Okeechobee battle had been fought and the celebrated chief captured. We were now going through streets lined with fine residences and gardens. Some of the banana trees were in blossom while others had small green bunches hanging from the topmost boughs. Oranges were abundant. Date palms waved their feathery crests at us, but above all were the beauty and fragrance of the oleanders.

Now we came in sight of what everybody comes here to see, the old Fort. Almost before we were aware of it we were at the celebrated gates, which are built of stone and formed part of the line of defence projected at the time the Fort was built. There are niches or sentry boxes in each gate, where undoubtedly the sentries found shelter from the weather. We tramped up the hill to the Fort and were struck at once by the peculiar substance with which it is built. On Anastasia Island across the bay are quarries from which this substance "Coquina" or shell rock is dug. Double walls were built of stone and broken stone and Coquina were rammed down between them. This wall being of such peculiar composition would impact the shot, and would prevent it from splintering or cracking. We entered over the drawbridge and were confronted by the arms of Castile and Aragon over the portcullis. Here was legitimate Spanish prey. Why not capture it? But the eye of the Ordnance Sergeant is upon us. The pulley and beams which raised and held the drawbridge across the moat are still in the walls. We are now in the court or assembly place. On the right are two guard rooms and a dungeon. In this dungeon Osceola was confined and niches cut in the wall by him for the purpose of looking out on the court are shown. The next door contains an old Spanish lock of considerable size. The iron framework of the door is still intact, but has been filled in with new wood. The next room is the chapel and a niche for the patron saint Augustine. Here mass was said and marriages performed. A part of the timbers supporting the choir loft is still there. In the next room holes in the wall indicate where crosses, thumb-screws and other instruments of fiendish torture of the inquisition were placed. Rings to which chains were attached are still in the walls. A torch was now lighted and we entered from the last room into one of utter darkness, save a window for ventilation eighteen feet from the ground. It was from this room that the two Seminole chiefs, Wildcat and Hadjo escaped through that very window, the bars of which were scarce twelve inches apart, and made a leap of thirty feet to the ground on the outside. The guide called to us to follow, and led us through an aperture six feet high and two and a half feet wide. This room is five feet by twenty and fifteen feet high. We take this size from our guide, for we can see nothing. Then he bade us stoop low and follow closely. We were beginning to have a creepy feeling about the roots of our hair, and this increased after emerging from an entrance four and a half by three feet wide. The air is oppressive and the sepulchral tones of the guide announces that this room was not known to exist until it had been in possession of the United States for fourteen years. It is twenty feet long, thirteen feet wide and seven feet high. With the entrance closed, death would occur in about fifteen minutes. In the outer room through which we stumbled, tradition says two skeletons, male and female, were found hanging in cages nailed to the wall. The incredulous are shown the nail holes. These dungeons were used probably to a considerable extent during the inquisition. At each of the four corners of the fort is a watch tower, named respectively St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Charles and St. Augustine, into each of which curiosity led us.

The broad terreplein furnishes one of the finest promenades imaginable, the ocean being plainly visible over Anastasia Island, while the freshest of sea breezes neutralize the intense heat of the sun. One hundred and ninety-one years is the record of labor on this fortification. For sixty years the Appalachian Indians were compelled to work upon it and to their efforts are probably due the immense labor of construction.

We had now "done" the Ancient City pretty thoroughly, so we again took our carriage, obtained another square meal and boarded the train, arriving in camp as taps were sounding. The Spaniards were fond of bombast and high-sounding phrases. Here is a proclamation issued by the Governor upon landing in St. Augustine:

"I, Panfilo de Narvaez, cause to be known to you how God created the world and charged St. Peter to be the Sovereign of all men in whatever country they might be born. God gave him the whole world for his inheritance. One of his successors made it a gift to the King and Queen of Spain so that the Indians are their subjects. You will be compelled to accept Christianity. If you refuse and delay agreeing to what I have proposed to you, I will march against you. I will subject you to obedience to the Church and his Majesty. I will obtain possession of your wives and children. I will reduce you to slavery, and the blood be upon your own head. Amen."

When Menendez landed, he took possession of the whole Western Hemisphere in the name of the King of Spain, and this present year has seen the grand finale of the act begun with great pomp in 1565.

One Sunday afternoon in the Y.M.C.A. tent General O.O. Howard made an address to the boys which was brimming with patriotism and recited a pathetic anecdote of a young lieutenant of artillery who at Gettysburg was wounded and bled to death. I was very proud to grasp the left hand of the old hero whose eyes had flashed fire in a dozen fierce and bloody battles of the civil war.

In due course of events the mess-house became a reality. It was 48 by 18, roofed over, the sides being open. It contained two long tables and seated about one hundred. Here the boys would congregate. The incoming mail was distributed here, and the assorting of the laundry also.

Brigade drills in battle formation took place now quite frequently. This formation consists of sending out scouts, flankers, firing line, supports and reserves. At 7.30 a.m. the companies were formed into battalions, the battalions into regiments, and the regiments into brigade while they marched towards the field. Our brigade (the First) consisted of the First North Carolina, Second New Jersey and Second Illinois. As we passed out of our camp we met the First North Carolina, which preceded us, and the Second Illinois followed as we passed their camp. Route step had been ordered, for it was hot and the order from General Burt was to make it as little burdensome as possible. It was a very picturesque march. The men rolled up their sleeves, loosened their gunslings, and thrust their arms between them and the barrels with the butts up, barrel pointing down across the thigh. Others carried their rifles reversed to the above, then again laid them across the top of both shoulders.

Imagine the picture those three thousand men made winding in columns over bridges, through defiles, over fields, and through pine groves. Here we see the head of the column going up that hill with General Burt and staff leading. The General is a small man, has a light grey moustache and keen eyes. He does not get excited,--always has a calm expression. His staff are around him, all men of superior build but inferior rank. Every once in a while one of these will receive an order and instantly scurry away. Now come the men of the First North Carolina in uniforms of dark navy; but suddenly our view is shut out, for we are passing through an unused railroad cut and we see only a short distance ahead of us.

But see! There goes the first battalion of our own Second across that high railroad bank, and then they disappear down its side. We look sharp now, for we are going over a corduroy road over a stream. This is made of tree trunks with their branches thrown between to fill up the angles. Then we go up a hill, and spread out before us in the fine groves, are the North Carolinians in battle array along a wire fence. The first and third battalions of our regiment move in behind them and form on their left, being a continuation of the firing line. Our battalion is the support of our regiment. Looking back, we see the Illinois boys trudging over the ground we have just left. We are getting thoroughly interested in the movements. The Second Illinois marches past, taking up a position to the left of our firing line. We now have two lines, firing line and supports. Then the positions are changed. The Illinois boys are sent chasing towards the St. Johns river, and their cheers can be heard. We advance our columns, and soon come up with the men from the Windy City. The General has seen enough and orders a rest. The bugle kindly sounds the retreat and we pass over again the same ground that made our advance so picturesque.

In the course of the first of these drills we had to get across a small stream by jumping on a board laid in the middle, and making another leap for safety. This process delayed our line so that the order was again given for double time to close up the gap. Double time under the best of conditions is bad enough, but at 9 a.m. on that morning the heat was fierce. We ran about one thousand yards and then felt as if a downy bed at home would just about fill the bill. However, we got over it all right and it has now become part of our stock of anecdotes.

A rifle range had been established about two miles from camp under the able supervision of Lieutenant-Colonel Currie, assisted by Capt. Geo. E. Wells and the men of G Company. The range was used by the regiments composing the Seventh Army Corps, each one going to the range once in every twenty-five days. It was in many respects similar to our State range at Sea Girt; but instead of a background of sea and sky which did not afford any relief to the eyes upon the long ranges, we had here dense pine trees and a high hill behind the targets, which brought them out very distinctly. These targets were in the shape of a man kneeling and the same size as those used at Sea Girt. They revolved instead of sliding up and down when struck. Corporal Rusk, Artificer Doerflinger, and Private Val. Greuter of our company were employed for two weeks in their construction.

Thursday, July 26th, we were hustled out early, and each man received five blank cartridges. We all knew what that meant, and our blood tingled through our veins in great shape. We marched in company with one battalion of the Second Illinois to the grounds in the near vicinity of our range and immediately formed in battle array. We were opposed by the First North Carolina and two battalions of the Second Illinois. Scouts and flankers were sent out from our company, the latter in charge of Sergeant Van Roden. Skirmishers under Sergeant Dabinett then advanced. The balance of the company were ordered to deploy and lie down. Soon shots were fired in front, then came shots from the right, as the scouts met the enemy and were driven in. Heavy volleys followed, and nearer and nearer they came. The trees and undergrowth were so thick we could not see very far ahead. Finally a volley was fired on our right center, then we saw Sergeant Dabinett and his skirmishers running in, perspiration streaming down their faces. Immediately the supports returned the fire and we were soon enveloped in smoke. Lieutenant Brunner's command rang out, and we deployed, extending the firing line,--all were now in action. Our boys were remarkably steady in their volley firing. Additional flankers were thrown out on our left and it was quite amusing to see the enemy's heads duck when a dozen shots were fired at them from an unexpected quarter. This finally brought forth a volley from the enemy, who had been under cover, whereupon we fell back to the main body, while the enemy advanced; but the recall was sounded and the "battle" was over.

July 31st Private Guy L. Fake was appointed Colonel Hine's orderly. This was a position highly prized by the men, as the best appearing private was selected to fill it from the guard detail of over fifty.

A party of our boys went crabbing in the St. Johns river and brought back 201 crabs. These were distributed and we had quite a feast. Company F's men caught 225. The residents told us they were unfit to eat, but we proved to them that they were.

We found in our travels very few fruits and vegetables where we had expected to find an abundance. In the market in Jacksonville we could see plenty of vegetables; but when we intimated to the dealers that the potatoes, cabbages, onions and carrots looked about like they did farther north, they laughed and said: "Well, I shouldn't wonder, for they came from New Jersey and Pennsylvania." A great many of the small fruits, such as blackberries, raspberries and strawberries, came from Georgia. Peaches alone were plentiful. Persimmons were occasionally seen. Tropical fruits, of course, were very abundant. The orange trees in this section were killed by the great frost of 1895, but were beginning to bear again. The tree was as common a sight as our pear and apple trees. Watermelons were so plentiful that the market was glutted with them, and 5 cents would buy as large a one as could be lifted. The storekeepers cautioned us not to buy the small ripe ones. They having been of slower growth, contained more of the impurities of the soil and were consequently more liable to cause fevers. After August 1st the sale of melons was prohibited.

The sweet potatoes were considerably darker than those grown farther north and much sweeter. The colored people made very good pies out of them, which they peddled in the camp. These pies were quite similar to our pumpkin pies in appearance. With this scarcity of fruits and vegetables it was no wonder that we jumped for joy when a box was received from home which contained, among other things, a can of preserved blackberries and three solid cucumbers, the seed of which latter had been planted by the writer when home on furlough the day before the regiment started south.

PART FIFTH

AUGUST 1898

ITS BRIGHT AND GLOOMY DAYS

On Tuesday evening, August 2d, the officers of the regiment gave a lawn party in camp. A platform was built in front of Colonel Hine's tent, and trees and shrubbery surrounded it in such a natural way that one would have thought it had been placed in a grove. The affair was quite successful and was graced by the presence of General Lee and staff, with the Generals and Colonels of the different brigades and regiments encamped here, besides notables from Jacksonville.

Thursday, August 4th, we had another sham battle, and this time we were the attacking force, composed of our regiment and one battalion of the First North Carolina. Opposed to us on the defensive were two battalions of the First North Carolina and the Second Illinois regiment. About one mile from camp our advance guard came upon the enemy concealed in a ravine, along which they had deployed, and a rapid exchange of shots took place. Company after company of our regiment were deployed on the run to their skirmish lines. As each company arrived it immediately engaged the enemy. Our company being last in order of march, we had longer to run, and we were placed far on the enemy's right. In fact, we succeeded completely in turning their right flank back, so that their whole line was like a bent bow. Our company pushed through and over fences and came upon the enemy lying behind a fence at the rear of a house. Here the fire was the hottest, and at one time our lines were within fifty feet of each other, but just able to see through the bushes that lined the yard.

The boys nicknamed this "the back-yard skirmish." Reinforcements arriving, we gradually extended our lines, so that the foe were having a hot fire upon three sides at once. Expecting a general advance along the lines at this time, we held our fire, as only ten blank cartridges had been given us and we had used up nearly all of them. We lay on the ground in the hot sun, perspiring from every pore, expecting every minute to receive the word. Rapid firing was going on on our extreme left and center and away off to the right the volleys were thundering.

This was a sore temptation to the boys, who every once in a while popped away wherever they saw a head emerge from the tall grass, and it delighted them greatly to see the individual drop as he heard the report, seemingly ashamed to find that the other fellow had the "drop" on him. Sudden cheering from the center was the signal for our advance. This time we only ran about ten yards and then dropped like a flash, for the enemy was about to pour a volley into us. Just at this moment the bugle sounded the "cease firing" and then the "assembly." When the firing ceased we had our opponents nearly surrounded. One man was hurt slightly with a bayonet. It was a great victory for the Second New Jersey. Lieutenant Brunner, the only one of Company L's officers present, had a hard time trying to keep his command under control, and succeeded extremely well, deserving the highest praise, the non-commissioned officers and men conforming to his commands promptly and with energy.

Friday morning at company drill Lieutenant Brunner sent the first platoon out through the woods and five minutes later the second to find the first. The second, under Sergeant Van Roden, took a short cut to intercept the first, which was under Sergeant Charles Dabinett, and this was what happened: We (the second) took post behind a shed in a deserted yard. I was stationed with four men along a fence from which some of the boards were missing. Sergeant Collins, with Private Craig and two others, went out and as the first platoon appeared these four set up a great shouting, luring them on past our ambuscade. The long legged men of the first were so intent upon coming up with the second, represented by Sergeant Collins and three men, whose heads only could be seen above the tall grass and bushes, that one section under Corporal Cohen went fairly and squarely into the trap set for them. But, unlike the rough riders, they could not get out again, for my detail, getting in their rear and being reinforced by the rest of the platoon, they were soon disarmed. The first section with Sergeant Dabinett coming to their relief were also taken into camp.

Lessons of this sort were likely to be of great benefit to the boys, especially as parts of our company were usually thrown out as flankers for the regiment, and taught them to be on their guard continually.

Towards the middle of August the climate began to tell on the boys. During June the ground was very dry and the atmosphere was clear and full of the odor of pines. In July the rains commenced, and hardly did the torrent cease before the sun set everything steaming. Vapor at night rose from the ground in greater quantities and it was not long before the hospitals were taxed to their utmost. In a great many cases home sickness would lead the way, while in others it was excesses. The number became so great that details from each company were sent to the hospital as assistants.

The sickness was also felt among the officers. During Captain Ely's leave of absence Lieutenant Blake was taken down with malarial fever and procured leave to go up the St. Johns to weather the malady. In the midst of this season of sickness (although not the worst by far) occurred the passing away of Private Jacob Kotzenberg of typhoid, the first patriot of our command and the second in the regiment, just upon the eve of dawning peace. He was buried with honors near his home after befitting services, both at Jacksonville and Rutherford. This death stirred our people greatly and set them all to thinking. The peace preliminaries had been signed and our victorious armies and navy enjoined from making further hostile advances. The return of the soldiers was eagerly discussed, for it was felt that others in our southern army might pass away at any time.

One week had hardly passed when two more of our comrades gave up their lives. Dread typhoid hovered over the camp and only the most hardy withstood its withering touch. These devoted lives were Private Henry Newman of Paterson and Corporal Bennett Cohen of Rutherford. The latter was my tent-mate and warm friend and I knew him best. At no other time during our service had such a desolate feeling spread over our camp. It rained frequently, the nights were gloomy and damp, and some of our most popular boys had gone to the hospital.

Our folks at home were clamoring for our return. Horrible stories were afloat there of our treatment. The unhealthfulness of the camp was such and lately such terrific downpours of rain had flooded everything, that camps on lower ground had become untenantable, so one morning when we found that our neighbor, the Second Virginia, had packed up and moved farther west, we felt that something must be done to break the monotonous gloomy aspect. Our boys were sickening rapidly, and only a few days before one of our most popular corporals had been taken from the street a hopeless case. We knew it as we saw him depart and pitied the poor fellow.

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.

"AND SOON NOT FORTY MEN OUT OF 101 ANSWERED THE ROLL."]

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.