Chapter II: Part 2

On the 2d of September we were once again in front of the enemy and ready to do battle. We entered the engagement with enthusiasm and rapidly drove the enemy before us. We were assisted by a large Mogul, which we called the Petersburgh Express and one or two gunboats on the James River, which fired balls half as big as a common sized water bucket. Soon victory was perched on our banners and with flying colors, we advanced by a right flank and entered the rebel lines after a bad fought battle of six hours, leaving many dead and wounded on the battlefield. My brother, William Henry Newton, was in the same regiment with me, not as a soldier but as a valet, he attended Captain Griswold. We charged two of the rebel forts, the left of the line was charged by the Eighth United States Troops, supported by the Twenty-ninth; the center was charged by the Ninth Maryland, supported by the Seventh United States Troops. In the history of my war record, I shall never forget this day’s experience. The rebels fought hard and nobly, but the colored troops defeated them and gained another victory in favor of the Union army. Our loss was very heavy and the true story of the suffering and heartaches will never be known until the Judgment Day.

Captain Thorpe and Lieutenant McDonald were wounded. I came on my rounds, bringing refreshments and stopped where the surgeons were at work. I shall never forget the fearful sight that met my eyes. It was indeed sickening. There were arms and legs piled up like hogs’ feet in a butcher shop. The dead and the dying were strewn over the battlefield for five miles. Drum Major John D. Cowes, of New Haven, with his corps, were busy carrying the wounded off the battlefield. I said to myself, war is a terrible way to adjust differences, when it might be done by the implements of peace. But I remembered that it is much easier to wield the sword than to use the pen; much easier to give a command which will send hundreds to their death, than to be a master of assemblies and speak the word which gives peace and happiness to millions. We lay all night in front of the rebel works and in the morning we were warmly saluted by fierce bombarding. So we were again in the midst of battle which waged hotly. The enemy carried their dead and wounded out of their trenches as lively as they were able. They did this so as to keep from tramping on them and to have room for the soldiers who were doing the work of death. In this engagement several were wounded but not many killed. Our colonel was not able to do duty and our lieutenant colonel was sick at Fortress Monroe.

On the morning of the 4th, we advanced to the left of the line, planting our flag under the rebel fire of grape and canister, bombshell and musketry. The dead were lying in every direction and the wounded were falling everywhere, cared for by the rear guard. On the 5th and 6th, we had to endure the hardships and exposure of the rifle pits, with advance pickets stationed in front of the rebel garrison. It was the fighting of a duel, so to speak, between two armies, although quite a distance apart. After while the Twenty-Ninth was ordered to headquarters, but did not get far on its way, when a fire broke out in our midst, we were shifted into a double-quick and returned to the breastworks where we held our position until the 8th, when we moved on the right to support the Forty-fifth, on Lookout Mountain. We were worn out and had hoped that we would be allowed to rest; but we received orders to take position on the front to support the Eighth United States Cavalry Troops, who had charge of the breastworks. Six days of hard fighting, fatigue and exposure, was our experience here. Under orders of the general we scouted and explored the territory and drove the enemy from the woods. We were able to take charge of the situation, much to our pride; still holding the rebels at bay and driving them further, to hunt new quarters.

On the 14th we abandoned the breastworks, General Birney leading the Third Division, Tenth Army Corps, numbering 75,000 colored troops. We were not formed into a fighting position at this time, perhaps for the reason that the enemy were too strong for us. So we were brought to the rear of the breastworks. For a long while the rain had been pouring in torrents and there was not a dry place to be found nor a dry thread on our bodies, we were covered with dirt and mud from head to foot, and not only felt to be in a terrible plight, but must have looked worse. The troops were ordered to prepare two days’ rations and to get ready for light marching. I had opportunity now to be in the company of commissioned officers for a few hours at a time, when we halted for rest. We would spread our meals on the wet ground, not a very inviting table, but the best that we could find. I somehow had the feeling that something was going on, or was going to happen, that would require one to be wise and cunning. The officers had a queer expression on their faces, and in fact all the field officers seemed to be uneasy. Three o’clock one morning, my surmises were justified, for the long roll was sounded and soon we were in line for work. We engaged in a bloody struggle. We moved to the right and some one began to sing,

“Sure, I must fight if I would win,
Increase my courage Lord;
I’ll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy Word.”

We thus cheered ourselves by the singing of songs while we fought and while we marched through the Virginia mud, such songs as “Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching,” “Beneath the Starry Flag.” The rebel lines were fortified, but under our noble leaders, we marched on to certain victory and the old Twenty-ninth was ready for any fray. The rising sun would seem to say to us, after he had broken through the darkness and the clouds, “Cheer up boys, don’t be despondent, but vigilant, strong, courageous, protecting the flag, the country, women and children, rights and liberty, and all things will come out right.” Thus it will be seen, how often God speaks to us through nature, how often we are cheered and helped by a bright day. How dependent we are upon our surroundings, for support. I do not say that this should be so, for a soldier should be strong, regardless of such things, but nevertheless they have their effect.

We were on the extreme right of the front and within three miles of Richmond, where our white troops were repulsed. The colored troops were commanded to halt and line up for action in front of the woods. Again the thought came to me, although this is called the white man’s country, they need us in war as in peace, to make and to keep the country. And why is not this fact fully realized by the white people? We are more than ten million strong and are ready at any time to lay down our lives for the nation and to give our lives in service, in times of peace, in all lines of activity. This we are doing. The progress which the Negro race has made since the war is an enviable one. No people or race would be ashamed of it. We have made this progress as honest, industrious citizens. We have shown our manhood in both times of war and peace, and our record has been written. Then why are we not accorded the place that we have rightly merited? In the sentiment of the white people there lurks a deep-rooted prejudice against us, and in their course of action discrimination is made against the Negro. We do not understand why this should be, unless there is a feeling on the part of the white people, that there is danger that we should become too prosperous and too many--the feeling which the ancient Egyptians had against the Hebrews--hence, they took steps to check the Hebrews. These may be the steps taken by the white man to check our progress. But the same God who overruled the destinies of the Hebrew slaves and brought them to their Promised Land, will take care of us and, we too, one day, shall enter our Promised Land, of equal rights and liberty.

On the 29th, there as a fierce encounter. The battle was indeed a slaughter pen. The enemy fought like tigers. The battle became general along the entire line. Adjutant Spaulding was wounded. Corporal George Burr, Company L; Corporal Sidney, of Company E, and many others were killed. Private George E. Peters, Sergeant George Halstead, James Evans and many others were wounded. I, myself, feared, shook, and thought that my time had come. I was full of thoughts of my loved ones at home. I knew that they were praying that I should be delivered from the jaws of death. This thought cheered and comforted me; and yet I saw friends falling around me, whose loved ones and friends, were also praying for their protection. Their prayers were not being answered and why? Why should I think that the prayers offered for me were more availing than those offered for them? Why should I have any special reason for encouragement? These thoughts come to one when he is in the midst of circumstances which seems to upset many of our principles of religious faith. They come to us not only in war but in work. They must be reckoned with. The only answer that I could find as to why the prayers offered for me were availing up to this time, was that my time had not come, and that it had not come because God had not ordered it, and God had not ordered it because He had something for me to do. Of course, He had heard the prayers which had been offered for me and they entered into His decree regarding my life. The only answer we can find to many perplexing questions which come in life is, “It is God’s way, His will.”

I was very busy in supplying the regiment with food, vinegar and water, and such edibles as I could get together. The doctors were busy sawing off legs and arms, and binding up wounds, and giving medicines to the wounded and sick. The women were busy in preparing bandages, lint, and doing what they could in the alleviation of human suffering. God bless the dear women who had the faith and the courage to breast the trials and hardships of soldier life. These scenes would have made your heart sore. Dear reader, the wounded and dying scattered over the battlefield thick, the hurrying to and fro of the physicians and the nurses; the prayers and groans and cries of the wounded, the explosion of bombs, the whizzing of bullets, the cracking of rifles; you would have thought that the very forces of hell had been let loose. And, indeed, it was a hell, the horrors of which no one could ever forget.

We finally retreated under the cover of the cavalry. The colored troops were the first to enter the field and the last to fall back. We thereby demonstrated to our President, Abraham Lincoln, and our General, U. S. Grant, that we were among their best supporters. The white man had no record to make. He was known as a fighter for centuries, our record was to be made and we were making it. The flag of our regiment could be seen floating among the pines. We were glad that Old Glory was above us with her folds pierced with many bullet holes. We returned to camp and took our former position in front of Richmond, where we remained for awhile.

We were again in battle array, having been marched up to the rifle pits. Our field officers being absent, we were under the command of Captain Camp, of Company D, our own colonel, W. B. Wooster, was at home on sick furlough. Lieutenant Colonel W. L. Ward, who had been promoted to the rank of colonel, was in charge of the Forty-first United States Cavalry Troop. The lieutenant colonel said to us, “Boys, we must fight to-day, let me have your best. Duty demands it. I will stand by you until the last. Watch, keep in line, and obey orders.” He brought us up double-quick to the rifle pits and the bugle sounded charge. We charged, firing, yelling, using our bayonets and our arms in the most cruel manner, but still in accordance with the tactics of warfare. We were there to kill in every manner possible. We held the pits for twenty-four hours, brought the rebels to their knees, brought down their flag and unfurled the Stars and Stripes to the breezes.

This was a disastrous battle, probably the most disastrous I had ever witnessed. I should probably make exception of the Fort Pillow Massacre, in which my brother, Steven Newton, was killed. He was a member of the Fourteenth, Rhode Island Battery. Charles Beeman, Rev. Amos G. Beeman and Corporal W. W. Wilkins were with him to the end and were able to make the report of his death to me. We lost in this battle over one hundred, i. e., I am counting only the loss of the Twenty-ninth Regiment. This regiment fought most bravely, gaining great praise, and receiving many compliments from the officers high up in rank. When the battle was over, we fell back and camped in front of Richmond. While there we attended the funeral of Private Charles Bently, who was killed early in the engagement. He died a champion for liberty and an earnest Christian. Jones Spriggs and thirteen others were buried at this time.

Many of the veterans went out on foraging expeditions. While resting we would engage in religious and patriotic songs. One of our favorites was, “Tenting on the Old Camp Ground.” About this time, the Third Division, Tenth Army Corps, Twenty-ninth Regiment, and General Birney, were surprised with the presentation of the United States national colors, which greatly pleased the boys. The flag was presented by the Forty-fifth United States Cavalry Troop to our lieutenant colonel, in a most pleasing manner. He spoke of the great bravery of the soldiers in battle. Colonel Ward replied that he had 672 guns which would speak whenever occasion demanded it. He also said that his boys were filled with as noble sentiments as any that had ever filled the breasts of boys before the guns.

While on dress parade we received the sad announcement from our lieutenant colonel that he would leave the regiment, as he had been promoted to the rank of colonel. This was indeed sad news to us. He had been with us in many hard-fought battles. We had learned to love him and had great confidence in his ability. He knew what course to pursue in order to avert many of the tricks of the Johnnies, not only being well up in military science, but well acquainted with many little games that are often played in war.

We remained in front of Richmond five days. While there we were quiet and enjoyed the much needed sleep that we had. We were greatly annoyed here as well as in other places with what the soldiers called greybacks, not the rebels, however; they were genuine creepers. They molested us no little. Whenever I could get off I would go to the creek and disrobe myself and pick them out of my clothes, then wash my clothes and hang them on the bushes to dry. Then I would dress myself and feel like a king, because once a again I was clean and free from these unearthly vermin.

From the first to the eighth of November, 1864, we were at Malvern Hill. I was Commissary Sargeant and was careful to keep as near the regiment as possible with my department. Sargeant Quartermaster D. L. Lathrop had charge of the ammunition, knapsacks, etc., under the command of our regimental quartermaster, there was always detailed a guard to protect us. We always followed the army with our train. I remember once that I got into the line of the Johnnies and I ran as if the hounds of hell were after me. I heard the whizzing of a bullet over my head, but it missed me. So I said, well they did not get me that time and Libby Prison has been robbed of an expected treasure.

While here the Twenty-ninth Regiment had charge of the fort until the third of December.

It was whispered about that Generals Lee, Johnson and others were in a position to watch our movements and that we might expect an attack at any time. But we were not worried over this report with such Generals as U. S. Grant, Sherman, Howard, Weitzel and others. We knew that they would be able to flank any movement that they might make.

On Monday the fifth, we took up our line of march to a destination unknown to us, there were all kinds of rumors as to where we would stop, but at last we found ourselves to the left of Fort Harrison on the left of the line. Here we camped under orders. We engaged in the usual preparations for a stay, putting up our tents, building huts and making things convenient for all concerned. But the next day the Colored troops were ordered to prepare two days’ rations and to advance. Then our countenances changed. We did not know but that another fierce battle was in store for us; and we had had quite enough fighting to satisfy us for a long while. On Wednesday, we were in front of the Johnnies, with our breastworks thrown up ready for fight.

The Colored regiments were consolidated in the Second Division, Third Brigade, Twenty Fifth Army Corps. A number of detached men were taken from the regiments. Orderly I. J. Hill was Brigade Postmaster. I was with the commissary department. All things were quiet along the lines excepting the laughing and yelling of the Johnnies. Once in a while they would throw a shell into our camp. At this time we would hear their cheers and laughter.

On January the first, we were in front of Richmond, Va. Here we engaged in battle with the Rebels, which was terrific. The anxiety, suffering, slashing, shooting, were beyond description. Many lay dead on the battlefield, baking in the sun. There were dead animals which had been exposed for two weeks, the stench was unbearable. These are some of the indescribable tortures of war.

The rebels soon retired from their position, for they would not have been able to withstand the Union Army. They were in constant expectation of the coming of Sherman who at that time was in the vicinity of Atlanta, Ga. We were under marching orders until the thirteenth. Colonel Wooster received orders to place his headquarters near our own regiment. I was determined that I would keep up my enthusiasm and do all in my power to supply the boys with something to eat.

On the twenty-third the rebel fleet moved down the James River towards the Dutch Gap Canal and opened fire on Fort Bradley keeping it up all night. The following morning the whole line was drawn up for action, at long range with reinforcements in the rear. The shelling was terrific all day. I was in the basement of a house, when a shell came through the window, burst and tore its way through the building. This house was used for headquarters. Fortunately none of us were hurt. Only the everlasting arm of God protected us, for all our friends who witnessed the shell and its devastations, supposed that we were all killed. The Quartermaster having received a wound in his knee, the Quartermaster Sargeant and I had to do all the work. At this time Orderly I. J. Hill and others were let off on parole and went home for twenty days. The Confederates made another dash to retake their lost territory and to make sure of the permanent establishment of the Slave Traffic which has been the curse of every nation or people who has adopted it. Their plan was to out-flank us and to effect a great slaughter and capture many of our men and guns and ammunition. And it seemed to us that they were after the Colored troops. But our leaders were too shrewd for them and they were repulsed and their depot, magazines and machine shops at Beaufort, N. C., were blown up and also at Newberne. A great battle was fought about Fort Fisher and the Rebels were overcome. Hundreds were killed and wounded in this battle.

The Colored troops in front of Richmond were moved from the breastworks on the left at Fort Harrison, to the hill in the center, where we built up a fine elevation overlooking the Rebel works in Richmond. Here we remained several days under heavy cannonading. We held the enemy so that they were unable to make any gains on us for four weeks. They made several attempts to storm and to cut off our supply, but they signally failed. But our men understood how to construct railroads and we would frequently hear the whistle of a locomotive in some direction bringing in our supplies. Our forces were well guarded on every hand by squads which were experts in caring for the welfare and needs of an army. We could hear the result of our bombarding in such cities as Petersburg, etc., and knew that our forces were gradually gaining and that the Rebels were gradually losing in their strongest holds.

On the twenty-seventh of March we struck our tents and moved on to Richmond. We were soon formed in line of battle in front of this city. The Rebels blew up three gunboats and evacuated their works immediately in front of us. There was heavy cannonading from the gunboats in the James River, the Monitor and other boats.

At this time there were many refugees coming to us by the hundreds. This was in part the result of Sherman’s march to the sea. He left in his wake many monuments of this famous march. There were deserted villages, chimneys standing without the houses about them, and troops of stragglers following the army.

Colonel Wooster ordered the 29th Regiment to advance and to do some daring work in the digging up of buried torpedoes which had been planted to impede the march of the Union Army. We were however equal to the task. We captured five hundred pieces of artillery, six thousand small arms, and the prisoners I did not count, but when we looked on them in the prison pen, the number seemed to be enormous.

We were present in Richmond when President Lincoln made his triumphal entry into the city. It was a sight never to be forgotten. He passed through the main street. There were multitudes of Colored people to greet him on every hand. They received him with many demonstrations that came from the heart, thanking God that they had seen the day of their salvation, that freedom was theirs, that now they could live in this country, like men and women, and go on their way rejoicing. Orderly I. J. Hill said that he saw a colored woman trying to get a look at the president, at last he came along and Orderly Hill said to her: “Madame, there is the man that made you free.” She shouted, “Is that President Lincoln? Glory to God, give Him praise for His goodness.” The President, with his son, and Admiral Porter, together with others walked over a mile to the headquarters of General Weitzel, at the mansion of Jeff Davis. A colored man acted as the guide. There were six Union soldiers as advance guard, then came President Lincoln, his son, and Admiral Porter, while on his right and his left were other officers. He was followed by six sailors with their carbines. This march created the wildest enthusiasm of the Colored people. They had lived to see the day of their liberty dawning. I was reminded of what had been done for the ancient Hebrews by Moses when he led them out of the land of their bondage, into the land of their promised liberty. Lincoln was indeed our Moses. He led us forth. He gave us our freedom. I noticed one white lady in a window, who turned away from the whole scene as if in utter disgust. There were still two sides to the question, then and there are two sides to it today. How long will these two sides remain, is the question. As the President looked out upon the poor Colored people and remembered how many lives had been lost in working out their salvation, he was not able to keep the tears from his eyes. They were tears of gladness and sorrow, of regret and delight; but the tears of my own people were the tears of the greatest joy.

The President went to the state capitol where he made a short address in which he said: “Now you Colored people are free, as free as I am. God has made you free and if those who are your superiors are not able to recognize that you are free, we will have to take the sword and musket and again teach them that you are free. You are as free as I am, having the same rights of liberty, life and the pursuit of happiness.”

While at Richmond, we engaged in many foraging expeditions. We found such things as eggs, chickens, butter, bread, fruit, tobacco. There were bales of tobacco in the streets free for every one who enjoyed the weed. And I must say that many were delighted with their free smokes. There was plenty of Confederate money too, which was often blown about by the wind as so much worthless waste paper. Well it was waste paper. With the passing of the Confederacy, the money value passed away on all such currency.

On April 16th, 1865, we were painfully shocked to hear of the death of President Lincoln, at the hands of an assassin. No one can measure the consternation which struck our hearts. This great and wonderful man who had guided the Ship of State through four years of such perilous waves and winds, that he should thus pass away and in such an infamous manner, was more than we could stand. But it was so. Our faith was almost staggered, that faith which had sustained us in so many battles, was now staggering under a blow which was severer than any battles, the death of our Immortal leader. Thus in four years from the first shot fired on Fort Sumter, four years from the very day of the first shot, the shot was fired from the hand of Booth, that removed one of the greatest men the world ever knew, from the scenes of human action. He was removed too at a time when he was most needed. Yes, he was more needed, than when the nation was in the midst of a bloody conflict. He was now needed to set up the battlements of peace, which is a more difficult work than the forts of warfare.

On the twenty-fourth, we moved from the camp near Petersburg, to Camp Lincoln where we enjoyed our camp life for awhile. We had lost many of our numbers through death on the battlefield and disease in the camp, but losses were now being recruited by volunteers coming to us. I was kept busy filling our regimental papers, ordering and issuing rations. Some of our men had become so rum thirsty that they would offer me ten dollars for a canteen full of whisky. But I was not allowed to sell it, and to give it out only on the orders of the Quartermaster.

We were not here long. We embarked on the Demolay for Norfolk, Va. General Russel and staff came on board to tell us goodbye. I had two barrels of supposed corn beef, the boys called it salt-horse, which I suppose was nearer the truth. I had also a barrel of sugar. These I could not ship, so I left them on the ground, for some poor fellows that could use them. Colonel Wooster came also and saw us off. We left many friends, some of them with tears in their eyes. They had become very dear to us. We had shared together the hardships of camp-life and of the battlefield. Human suffering makes men very near akin. As we glided swiftly down the James River, for a while we could hear their cheers and when sound was out of touch, we could see their salutes of hats and handkerchiefs. We enjoyed the day as soldiers on board the vessel. I was astonished at the behavior of the soldiers. They gave themselves over to all kinds of sports and jestings, which disgusted me most thoroughly. Many were unruly, even threatening the lives of those who favored going to Texas whither we had been ordered for garrison duty. Some of the gang were arrested for their insubordination. My heart was made to shudder at the degrading and shameful life which was manifested on board the ship. Their swearing, drinking, gambling, dancing, etc., was heartsickening. It was indeed a revelation and shows what men will do when not under the eye of authority. Human nature is indeed most sinful, and were it not for the restrictions which are thrown about us, none of us know what might come to pass. We arrived at Norfolk and anchored for the night. With having witnessed the debauchery on board the vessel and at the same time wrought with anxiety for my wife and two babies, my father and mother at home, I confess I was in a most depressed condition of mind and heart. “Be strong and of good courage,” came to me like a flash and I was strong and buoyant in a little while. How grand is the truth of God, when we find it such a rock of refuge in times of trouble; I was thus greatly consoled and went to bed looking up at the shining stars, as if they were so many angels, sent by God, to guard me.

There was quite an excitement on board when it was whispered about that the officers had covenanted together to take the soldiers on board, to Cuba, and sell them as slaves. There was quite an indignation against I. J. Hill, for it was thought that he was in some manner party to this arrangement. The men were suspicious also of Sam Brown, a clerk. I, together with others, had the good fortune to escape any insults or indignities. While at Norfolk, we went to church and saw quite a number of well-to-do Colored people. Rev. J. M. Brown, of the A. M. E. Church, I think was pastor. He treated us very cordially indeed. We were introduced to many of the congregation. This church had a Sunday School of six or seven hundred members. It was an inspiring sight to see them nicely dressed and to hear them sing so sweetly, many beautiful Sunday school songs. But the time had come when we had to leave the many dead of our comrades. We had done all that we could for them in the last sad rites of death and now their bodies were resting under the cold sods of the South, awaiting the Resurrection Day, when we will all meet again and hear our record of the deeds done in the body and the judgment based on these deeds. The memories of war are one of the saddest features thereof. These memories can never be blotted out; for as we grow older they seem to become more vivid.

Woodbury, N. J. Built by Rev. A. H. Newton, D.D.]

We took shipping on the transport, Blackstone, for Texas. We were about fifteen days on the waters, the ocean was calm. There were six or seven hundred on board. It was no little job to take care of the hungry stomachs of these men. But we had a most pleasant trip and enjoyed the ocean waves and breezes. The officers spent most of their time in fishing. Once in awhile a fish six or seven feet long would be hauled in. For two days we were out of sight of land and only one small schooner passed us. There was much complaint on board on account of the army food which I was compelled to give them salt-pork or hard tack and bad coffee. They thought that being on board of ship warranted better food, but I told them that I had to give them what I had. And so we fought the battle of the stomach. There were many however who were afflicted with sea-sickness and had no concern for something to eat. We had a burial at sea. The poor soldier was sewed up in a blanket and consigned to a grave in the bottom of the deep. The funeral service was very impressive to many of us, for it was the first burial at sea we had witnessed. I must confess that there was a grandeur about it that inspired one--as the boundless ocean received the body of our comrade, eternity had received his soul. I thought of his loved ones and that in all probability they would never hear of him. Then I wondered if that grand song could not be an interpretation of this burial,

“Rocked in the cradle of the deep,
I lay me down in peace to sleep,
In ocean cave still safe with Thee,
The germ of Immortality.”

At this time I was not a member of the church. But my father had taught me to pray. And as I have frequently related, I often prayed in battle when I thought that my time had come. I had a sense of the guilt of sin and of the need of confession of my sins. So I had also, the sense of peace which comes from a man’s justification through Jesus Christ. My case I am sure is but an illustration of the cases of many men and women who have not connected themselves with the church. They are real Christians as I was, having all the ordinary experience of the Christian, but not having made any outward profession. We are therefore unable to know who are the children of God, for certainly there are believers outside of the church. Our judgment therefore must always be a charitable one. Yet I do not want the impression to be made that I, in any sense, approve of believers remaining outside of the church. An outward profession of faith in our Blessed Lord, Jesus Christ, is an open badge of our religion which men can see. We should not hide our light under a bushel, but put it on a candle stick that all about us may see what we are by what we live. When we rounded the Florida reefs, the boys’ hearts were gladdened, because they had seen the land once again and their thought was that they were nearing the end of the voyage. We had some sickness on board, such diseases as yellow jaundice, malaria, chills and fever. We were huddled together like a lot of wild ducks and the sanitary conditions were against our health. When about seven days on our trip, our drinking water failed us. We were on the water, yet we had no water to drink; but we did the best we could under the circumstances.

We were glad when we came into the harbor at Mobile, Ala. Here we found many transports lying in the harbor. Fort Gaines was to our right and Fort Morgan to our left. The boys were all delighted, because they were wild to get to land again, and especially to get a drink of good water. How dependent we are on mother earth after all for our lives. After passing the forts a short distance the anchor was dropped. The surroundings were grand. There were gunboats lying in the stream, with their artillery of death-dealing cannon looking forth from the decks and thoroughly manned with the smaller-implements of naval warfare. But our hopes were not fulfilled, for a command came that we were to sail immediately to New Orleans. The men were bitter in their disappointment, but such is the experience of war. Men are not free, they are the parts of the gigantic machine of death, so many cogs in the wheels, or so many wheels in the machine, or so many parts of the machine. They soon became reconciled however. We had plenty of hard tack and salt horse left us, and with this we could not starve to the death. Our voyage was an uneventful one, save for the good weather and fine ocean. We were soon in the channel for New Orleans. When we reached the forts Jackson and Phillips, a signal stopped us for inspection. We were told that we could not go to New Orleans, that none of the men or officers could go any further without an order from General Grant. The officers telegraphed to Washington to General Grant. We were in rather a dilapidated condition, about out of coal and in need of better fuel for the stomach, with the men completely worn out with the voyage.

We were however permitted to go on land at Fort Jackson. This was a magnificent fort with its seventy guns overlooking the water inlet. There were many alligators in this place and we amused ourselves by killing them, which of course was a greatly desired thing. I had plenty of hard tack and this seemed to attract the reptiles. I remember one fellow over seven feet long I killed.

At this place the Colored troops had been shamefully and barbarously treated. As I thought of the outrages which they had suffered only about one month before our arrival, I felt that if I could, I would like a little revenge on their account. But there was no opportunity for such outlet of wicked feeling. At last we received an order from General Grant to take the transport to New Orleans, to get a supply of coal and oil, and to have the transport repaired. But to our dismay, only the officers were permitted to go. We were left at Fort Phillips.

I managed however, to get to New Orleans, in that I had charge of the commissary department. We were already beginning to forget the hardships of the battlefield. Our minds were turning to the ordinary life which we live, and looking forward to the pleasures connected with home and with business. And I assure you, my dear readers, that it was a happy release. We had the constant joy in our hearts that our beloved people had their freedom, bought with the blood of those who now slept the last sleep on many battlefields; but we did not believe that the price paid for this boon of liberty was too dear. The price of human liberty can never be estimated. This is especially true of those who knew what slavery meant. And the Colored Race has an endless debt to pay their White friends who bought their liberty with their own blood. While it is true that the White people brought our forefathers here and sold them into slavery, which of course they had no right to do, this does not diminish the price which this same race had to pay in order to buy us out of the slavery into which they had sold us. And it does not in the least diminish the debt of gratitude which we shall owe them as long as time exists.

I had a short but very pleasant stay in New Orleans. On Sunday we went to the A. M. E. Church, of which the Rev. William A. Dove was pastor. This was the St. James A. M. E. Church. We were most cordially received by the pastor and members. They were kind enough to take care of us while in the city. We learned from the members that while we were on the battlefield, they were at home fasting and praying that our grand cause might be victorious. “Fight and pray” is sure to win the day for any just cause. The services were very pleasing and profitable. The pastor preached in the morning and our orderly I. J. Hill, at night. I and others, were much lifted up and realized anew what it was to draw water from the wells of salvation. We spent much of our time in seeing the sights of the unique city of the South. Our friends were more than kind to us during our stay. We lacked nothing for good beds and good food and good society; and we were in good shape to appreciate these things, because of the privations, losses, suffering, and fears through which we had passed.

Our transport having been repaired and furnished with needed coal and oil and food, we were soon on our way back to the fort. We had not gone far on our course until there was an alarm of fire. This created quite a panic, but the blaze was soon put out and we were enjoying our trip down the “Father of Waters.”

We arrived at Fort Phillips with more soldiers for the Twenty-ninth Regiment, they having been brought in from other quarters.

We were soon off for Texas. With the transport loaded with human freight, we started for Brazos De Santiago, Texas. We found the gulf quite rough on our entering it. This produced sea sickness with a great many. I remember one fellow who was very sea sick. I was unable to do anything with him. He was continually calling out “New York, New York.” “There goes my liver,” he cried, having spit up some blood. Our great trouble on this voyage was the lack of water. They had a condenser on board which reduced the amount of salt a few degrees, but we could easily taste the saline property of the water. We found Brazos a most undesirable place, there were plenty of fleas and mosquitoes and sand burrs. We had our headquarters at this place which was knee deep in water. Our Colored troops were nearly perishing for water. The suffering was most intense. It was heart-rending. I cried out to God to send us some help. We had but little water and that was quite brackish. Our means of condensing the water gave us only about five thousand gallons when we were in need of not less than ten thousand gallons. We paid ten cents a canteen for water and would have been willing to have paid fifty cents, or any price.

After a while we met some Mexicans who had brought water from the Rio Grande and sold it for ten cents a canteen. Colonel Sadrick was very indignant over this hardship. When he saw our scars and realized how much these good soldiers had suffered and the privations through which they had already passed, he saw General Wietzel and requested that the troops should be taken from Brazos. He met with success and we took our line of march for White Ranch on the Rio Grande River about ten miles south of Brazos. The march was one of great trial. We were in mud knee deep and in some places the water was waist deep. When we reached the Ranch, the soldiers were well nigh famished. They made a mad rush for the river and while many of them were on the bank, it gave way, and several of them were drowned. We were all greatly saddened over this misfortune. It seemed enough that men should have given up their lives on the battlefield, this was matter of course; but when men who had stemmed the tide of death which swept the battlefield were drowned, it seemed more than we could stand to see them cut off from their loved ones by a mere accident. But it was the Lord’s way to take some more of them home.

It was not a hard matter for us to sleep the first night. We spread our rubber blankets on the bare ground and enjoyed our rest as much as if our beds had been made of feathers. The next morning we saw the body of a man floating down the muddy river. He too had evidently met with some accident, or had been killed and thrown into the river. It was not our duty to make any investigation.

I prepared the best breakfast possible for the boys. Our fuel was gathered from the woods and rail fences. I said woods, but unfortunately there was not a tree in the whole country, so we had to do the best we could. But we had coffee, rice, sweet potatoes and our regular rations. We put up our tents here and soon had the camp under military discipline. Then we left for Brownsville, Texas, a distance of twenty miles. The march was a trying one on account of the bad roads. We were not able to keep our stores with us on this account and left a detail of soldiers to guard them. Many a solder sickened and had to be taken to White Ranch to be cared for by Orderly Hill. Some of the men died on the way and were buried under the Texas sod with no stone to identify them. One boat was on its way to Brownsville with rations. I remember my homesickness at this time. After the battles had been fought, I was anxious to return to my loved ones. I felt that my duty had been done towards my country and that now I must take up my duty to my dear ones. We were soon joined by Orderly Hill. He said that he had gotten tired waiting for the boat and had come on to be with us. He threw a few chunks together and started a fire and lighted his pipe. After a few moments reflection, he said: “These light afflictions are but for a moment, for they work for us a far more and exceeding weight of glory.” We met a drove of hungry wolves which made two or three attempts to come to us, but about fifteen shots from our guns were enough to satisfy them they had no more need of us than we had of them. In time we reached Brownsville. We saw strange things there. The houses were little huts; the people dressed in their shirts and drawers; the women dressed in a long shirt with their breast exposed, seemingly caring nothing for decency or modesty. It did not look to me that the people here had ever known what it was to know or to serve the true and living God. They were certainly far from any such practical knowledge, judging from their daily lives. I thought “If the righteous scarcely be saved where then shall the sinner and the ungodly appear?” The next morning I was not feeling well. I went to one of the streams and bathed. There were plenty of lizards, frogs and horned toads about. The horns of the toad reminded one of the horns of a goat. It was a place of trials. Some of the men swore and cursed, others were kept too busy scratching, while others were praying. It was a time of sore trials. One of our officers, Captain Clark ought to have been with the Greys instead of the Blues, he had so little use for the Colored troops. So he marched them almost to death on this march. Colonel Wooster, a man of tender feeling and of a proper sense of right and justice and without prejudice against the Colored people, saw the outrage perpetrated against us and put Clark under arrest. He was kept there until Colonel Wooster resigned. After he left, we were again under the command of Captain Clark. Orderly Hill was very sick and was ordered to the General Hospital. As I looked upon him I said to myself, Hill you are a very sick man and your warfare is about ended. There were about seven hundred in the hospital sick. They were treated as if they had been brutes, doctors and nurses being without any feeling. They were dying at the rate of ten a day. The stewards would search the dead, take their valuables, then report them dead. What a contrast between our camp on the banks of the James River and the camp in this far off, God-for-saken town of Brownsville, Texas.

And now after all our hard fought battles, our fears and foreboding, our privations and losses, we received the news from the War Department that the Twenty-ninth Regiment was ordered home. It is needless to say, that the home-fever spread more rapidly than any fever that had ever prevailed in our ranks. We looked for and patiently awaited the day when we would be ordered out. On the fourteenth day of October, 1865, at nine o’clock a. m., the recruiting officer was on the ground, at which time Company K. was mustered out. We were escorted through Brownsville by the Ninth U. S. C. T., Colonel Bailey being in command. We marched to an open field where the two regiments bid each other goodbye. It was an impressive scene, for these regiments had shared each others fortunes and misfortunes through the war. They had become inseparable, but now the best of friends must part. How happy we were that we should be permitted to breathe the fresh air again and to tramp through the country as free men. Yet I had the feeling that the Civil War was the mighty struggle of the White Race and that the struggle of the Colored Race was yet in the future. There is such a thing as a man having to work out of his own salvation, and this is also true of a race. Our salvation had been bought for us by the nation, but it is ours now to work out this salvation. As we marched out through the grand country and these thoughts came to me, I cried out to God, “Can these dry bones live? Will this country give the Colored man an equal chance in the marts of trade, in industrial fields, and in the professions? He is yet untried in the ranks of an aggressive civilization, for he has been a slave. Can these dry bones live?” These were the prayer-thoughts that were filling my mind and heart. Our march was a trying one on account of the bad condition of the roads, but we were going home. No one but the soldier who has been honorably discharged after an issue has been settled, knows the joys that well-up in the heart as he turns his face homeward. The feeling is indescribable. There were several boys sick, but their spirits were revived on account of home-going. We soon reached Brazos where we spent the night. I was very glad to say goodbye to my Texas friends and experience. They could live on the sandy plains of Brownsville, as long as they pleased; they could eat the strips of dried goat meat until they were satisfied; they could drink and relish the muddy water of the Rio Grande considering it the best water in the world; but as for me, I would choose other quarters. Now that the Confederacy had surrendered, now that the Palmetto flag had been lowered forever and Old Glory floated in its stead, now that millions of people were made free and could live and think as real men and women, I was more than happy to say goodbye to all these things and begin life anew.