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.
PABLO BEACH, FLA.
"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.
In the midst of all this gloom suddenly appeared the commission appointed by the Governor to investigate the condition of the Second and its willingness and fitness to proceed to Cuba. This commission was composed of Gen. Bird W. Spencer, Inspector General of Rifle Practice State of New Jersey, Senator William M. Johnson, and ex-Judge James M. Van Valen. General Spencer polled the nine companies at Jacksonville camp and the one on provost guard in the city; Senator Johnson, Company G, in charge of the rifle range, and Judge Van Valen, our Company at the seashore. I was delighted to be recognized by the Judge as the son of a once close friend of his. The result of the poll determined the Governor to petition the War Department to have our Regiment mustered out.
PART SIXTH
PABLO BEACH AND THE JOURNEY HOME
September 2d the Regiment moved down and occupied the ground to the south of us about one mile and one hundred yards from the ocean. The ground was covered with scrub palmettos, the roots of which ran all over the ground. This necessitated considerable axe work before tents could be pitched, and it was late in the evening when the camp was finally in a condition to sleep. Rattlesnakes seemed all too plentiful in this scrub and boldly invaded the camp. One careless young man crawled into his tent without first exploring its interior and was badly bitten by one of these horrible reptiles. The idea of sleeping amongst such bedfellows was anything but pleasant, and the weather now becoming stormy and cooler, the danger from the snakes increased, for they had a natural tendency to seek the warmth which they could find alongside a sleeping body. Before we left other regiments camped to the south of our Regiment, notably Colonel Bryan's Nebraskan.
A favorable pastime of the boys was to go out to the beach at daylight for a swim in the surf and incidentally gather the pretty delicate ribbed shells, which seemed to reflect all the rays of the rising sun, which here shone out in all its glory. This King of Day made a most gorgeous picture, such as I had believed existed only in an artist's very elastic imagination. His golden shafts of beauty will never fade from my memory. We made quite a collection of shells and sent them home. There were two vacancies among the Corporals owing to the deaths of Roe and Cohen. Charles H. Wallis and Ed W. Killmer were appointed to fill those positions.
One evening, some time after taps had sounded and just as the boys had begun to have a drowsy feeling that sleeping on pine boards wasn't so very bad after all, a considerable commotion was raised in camp by the cry of fire. We hurriedly kicked off our blankets, gave a hitch or two to our trousers to keep them on, and then sallied out. One of the four frame houses at the north edge of our camp was on fire. These houses were built of only one thickness of board, having no plaster or lath. Standing in front and looking sharp, one could see pigs rooting behind the house. The building was like tinder and burned fiercely.
As we passed the quarters of the company of Texans who were on guard with us, their bugler was trying to blow his head off with a lot of weird, shrill blasts, which their Captain kindly explained in forcible language was the "fire-call," and he'd be so and so if he wouldn't court-martial every son of a Texan if they didn't fall in and obey orders. There was considerable confusion around the house for a while, but the soldiers soon got to work under the leadership of the officers. Members of our Company climbed up the front porch and to the roof of the adjoining house, not thirty feet away, and sat there for over an hour wetting the roof and sides, while the steam floated around them. During the conflagration the half wild hogs and their litters would run up close to the flames, stare stupidly into the cauldron until it became too hot for them, when they would scamper away, grunting and squealing, into the brush. The house burned completely up, for not a stick was visible after it died out.
At this time we received word that the Regiment was to be mustered out, and a Regular Army officer who had been detailed to our Regiment ordered us to prepare our books for transmission to the War Department. This writing up of the records was a complete revelation to the companies. Not one in the Regiment had made any successful attempt to keep the books properly. G Company probably came the nearest to it, and theirs were the first to be O K'd. But it was over two weeks after the order was issued before the mustering officers could state just when the Regiment could start for home.
The final week proved a busy one indeed and the patience of the clerical force of the Regiment was tried sorely. Sergeant Baxter, Private Stevens and myself were detailed for this work, and we kept at it every day and sometimes far into the night. No instructions other than verbal had been given to start the machinery in motion. Nobody seemed to know just what should be done. Tedious work performed with care had to be done over again. Missing orders, letters and other documents had to be accounted for and records which could not be procured had to have affidavits made out to that effect.
When the men of the National Guard were mustered into service they had the uniform given them by the State, which in some instances had been worn over four years. They also received at Sea Girt new suits of State uniforms to replace old ones and got them with the understanding that the State would not charge for them. In one or two instances clothes were torn to get a new suit. Now the United States charges these same National Guardsmen for two suits of clothes—the suit which had been worn four years and the new one which did not fit, and in many cases had never been worn. The total amount charged us by the Government was over twenty-one dollars and this amount was deducted from each soldier's clothing allowance in the last payment.
The final order for striking tents was received on the 20th of September, and daylight of the 22d found us all ready to throw the tents, strap on our knapsacks and start home. The tents and baggage of the Company had to be loaded on flat cars. To do this a car of lumber had to be unloaded. It belonged to Colonel Bryan's Regiment and his men were going at the unloading in such a matter of fact way as to exasperate Lieutenant Blake, and at his order a dozen of our boys jumped on the load and commenced to get rid of it in such a way as to open the eyes of the Nebraskans. They were roundly chafed by their Lieutenant "for allowing a lot of Jerseymen to put you to sleep in unloading lumber, you who have handled it all your lives."
After this was completed the Company's luggage was packed away solidly upon this car and we were called into company formation ready for the train; but the railroad could only take one battalion at a time and it was after 1 o'clock before we could get started. The train had passed through a heavy shower and the floors of each car and the wooden bottoms to the seats were deep in water which had come in at the open windows. A heavy shower drenched us as we marched through Jacksonville. The boys received hearty handshakes from the friends they had made.
We were worrying about our wet blankets, which were strapped on top of our knapsacks, when we were ushered into Pullman sleeping coaches. It was an agreeable surprise and we immediately proceeded to ensconce ourselves in the most comfortable positions. In a short time, amid a lot of noise and banging of cartridges, we drew out of the depot, scurried out past camps and through groves, catching a glimpse of Torrey's rough riders, with whom we had left one of our number, out over rushing torrents, swelled to overflowing by the recent rains and covering vast areas with their yellow tumbling waters.
These we passed cautiously for fear of washouts. As we passed to the rear of Savannah it grew dark; but sitting musing at the window I could not help noting the wild, desolate region we were passing through. Here and there stood some giant tree stark naked in the moonlight and swaying from the branches, with gruesome effect, was that remarkable product of nature, Spanish or Florida moss, and I could not help recalling the shuddering stories told by Sherman's troopers of ghosts and dead men, clanking chains and bloodhounds of the Southern forest. The palmettos reared their shaggy heads in outline against the sky, for all the world like a jack-in-the-box of our childhood days; but I was here interrupted by my bedfellow, who insisted on my turning in, which I reluctantly did. But wasn't it jolly to lay on something softer than a plank? And after being served with our old stand-by, coffee, from a bathtub, we slept soundly.
We passed through Columbia, South Carolina, due north to Charlotte, North Carolina, and Salisbury, Greensboro, to Danville, Virginia, places made historic by Sherman and after the surrender at Appomattox. We stopped nearly an hour at Danville, and when we finally started again had a goodly stock of everything to eat. Up to this point we had passed acres of cotton in bloom, that farther south being taller and handsomer plants, and every stop brought portions of the royal plant of the South into the cars. In the early days of the Civil War the triumphant voice of the Confederacy proclaimed "King Cotton rules the earth." But before that strife of brothers ended the thunderous tones of the North drowned that in the South with "Corn, not Cotton, is King," and verily it proved so.
Lynchburg and Charlotteville, Virginia, ushered us into the tobacco district. But we saw very little of this plant, for it had just been gathered. Darkness settled down on us before reaching the latter town. Coffee awaited us there, and we were roused up at 10 o'clock to receive it in its virgin liquid purity. Nearly half the car as a result was awake all the rest of the night. At 4 a.m. on Saturday, we reached Washington and were greatly surprised and pleased to find that a bountiful lunch had been prepared for us by the good and thoughtful women of the Pension Bureau—grapes, apples, sandwiches and the best coffee we had had for five months. There will always remain in years to come one warm spot in the heart of each one of our boys for the patriotic devotion of these excellent women.
But now came a kaleidoscopic change. Instead of indifferently cultivated fields, barren wastes and swamps, behold here were fields teeming with corn and garden truck of all kinds. The farmers were out with their men hilling up the rows of celery, parsley and onions; fine pasture lands spread out before us; well fed cattle standing contentedly under drooping willows, and, to crown all, well built, substantial farm houses and barns, all denoted with an unmistakable stamp that which can be seen all through our Northern states—prosperity. Baltimore was reached at 7, Wilmington at 8, and Philadelphia at about 10 in the morning.
From Washington we had the extreme pleasure of going real fast, our train now running over the double tracks of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Speculation was rife as to when we would reach Sea Girt. Every stop or slow down would surely bring forth an impatient exclamation, and then wagers would be made all over again. But while this was going on we passed over the Delaware, and as the Jersey side was reached the enthusiasm vented itself in cheers, as we fully realized how near we were to home, and then how we did make time. We fairly seemed to fly, but it was all too slow, past farming-lands one acre of which was worth a dozen in the South; apple trees loaded with ripe fruit; fields of corn ready for the sickle, yellow pumpkins, savoring of delicious pies; these were familiar home scenes, but temporarily lost sight of in our recent surroundings; past historic New Brunswick, Freehold and Princeton. At about 1.30 we pulled into Manasquan with Camp Voorhees in plain sight. Here we unloaded and, escorted by the Fourth Regiment Band, marched to camp, where Company L was taken in tow by Company L of the Fourth, and so on through the battalion. But it was a sight to see the fine rosy potatoes they had and the butter, "all you want on your bread." We marveled greatly, to say the least. This lunch was quickly over, and we boarded our section again. After several tedious waits we finally reached Rutherford a little before 7 in the evening, amid red fire and exploding crackers.
Through a dense mass of humanity the company marched. The scenes attending our leaving for the war were again enacted, but with three-fold vigor. Our relatives and friends struggled desperately to break through and forcibly grasp some husband, brother or son, and failing in this, would hysterically call out. Some were weeping, some were laughing, but it was all joy unalloyed. Our drill and discipline told to advantage here, and we succeeded in keeping our line, otherwise we would have been scattered to the winds.
We were formally welcomed back by Mayor Turner, representing the people of Rutherford and surrounding towns, and invited to partake of a banquet in the near future. Lieutenant Blake now saw that it was useless to try and hold the men together longer, so the final command to break ranks was given and then every man "Tommy" of us was hugged as he had never been hugged before. One week later the company assembled at Sea Girt and there received their furloughs, which held good until the final muster out at Paterson, November 21, 1898.
The month of May, 1898, had not passed before relief committees had organized for the purpose of looking after the families of those soldiers of the National Guard who decided that their duty to the State and the country demanded their presence at the front, and little ones at home were left without a bread winner and protector.
The members of this Relief Committee were Mayor E.J. Turner of Rutherford, Mayor William McKenzie of East Rutherford, Rev. J.Y. Hubach, and Messrs. Charles Burrows, Oscar Gunz, William H. Smith, James Leyland, Cornelius Collins, Edward A. Jeanneret, James A. Morgan, William H. Taylor and P.B.S. Hodges. This committee received a total of $1,218.64, all of which was spent in the good cause.
Sunday, July 10th, a Service of Thanksgiving took place at Grace Episcopal Church. Special prayers were offered for sick and wounded soldiers and sailors, and for those who mourned dead heroes. It was in accordance with the proclamation issued by the President, and the sermon by the Rev. Henry M. Ladd, was along National lines, emphasizing the duties of the Christian soldier. After the presentation of the offering, the congregation and clergyman read antiphonally the psalm for thanksgiving after a naval victory, singing at its close the "Gloria in Excelsis." The service closed with the prayer of thanks for victory at sea, and a prayer for peace, followed by the Benediction.
It was a stirring service, and to have taken part in it was the event of a lifetime, and not likely to be repeated. Services of like nature were held in all the churches.
Tuesday evening, July 26th, a number of kindly volunteers, under the auspices of the Relief Committee, gave an entertainment in the Armory, which netted about $150. It was an excellent one, combining serio-comic drama with highly cultured singing and pleasing tableaux. The names of these devoted friends were as follows: "A Quiet Family," Messrs. George H. Whitman, James A. Morgan, Mrs. Mary Davis, Miss Lizzie Davis; orchestra, Mr. Louis Baxter and others; Grace Church choir, Mr. Charles H. Sunderland, leader, Mrs. T.N. Glover, Mrs. McAvoy, Mrs. Sunderland, the Misses D. Stevens, B. Stevens, Fanton, Williams, Reece, Johnstone, Smith, Elliott, Semken, Cosse and Haywood, and Messrs. Douglass, Barrows, Elliott, MacAdee, Parker, Critchley, Ahrens, Burns, Brown, Green, Shaw and Wilkins; tableaux: Miss Maude MacHarg, Mr. Wilkin Bookstaver and the rest of the company.
Another entertainment took place Thursday, July 28, which was very successful, the net proceeds being $91, and was sent to Jacksonville to provide better food for the sick of the company. The entertainment was managed by Mrs. W.E. Fullagar, who took considerable interest in the welfare of the company (she and her husband being with us at Jacksonville and Pablo Beach for nearly a month). Those taking part deserve to have a place in this narrative, and they follow: Mrs. M. Casta, Mr. Louis Baxter, Miss Mae Games Amery, Mr. L. Botting, Miss Nettie Dannheim, Mr. Arthur H. Hargrave, the Concordia Maennerchor of Carlstadt, Miss Mabel Taylor King, and six members of the Kirmess "Hornpipe Dance." Captain Ely, home on furlough, told anecdotes of camp life, which were very interesting. Another entertainment took place the week we arrived home, the proceeds of which were given to the Relief Committee.
One year had passed when the company again assembled upon the anniversary of its return from camp life; old friendships were renewed, and yarns spun, while the good things disappeared at the well-spread table.
September 30th, 1899, the company paraded through the streets of New York on the occasion of the welcome to Admiral George Dewey, and all along the line patriotic citizens gave its enthusiastic endorsement of the manly devotion to the flag which L Company maintained through five months of trying camp life in Southern climes.
PART SEVENTH
ROSTER OF L COMPANY.
PROMOTIONS, TRANSFERS, ETC.
Captain Ely, Provost Marshal, City of Jacksonville.
Sergeant Ely, Brigade Color-Sergeant.
Sergeant Collins, Regimental Color-Sergeant.
Corporal Vandenburgh, Clerk at Corps Headquarters.
Private Alverson, promoted to be Artificer, vice Doerflinger, reduced at his own request.
Private Baxter, discharged for disability.
Private Crear, transferred to Troop B, 2d U.S. Vol. Cavalry.
Private Doyle, Clerk to Provost Marshal.
Private Gillen, transferred to hospital at Washington, D.C.
Private Greuter, Corral Master with rank of Lance Corporal.
Private Hild, transferred to Hospital Corps, U.S. Army.
Private Horton, stenographer, Adjutant's office.
Private Kent, transferred to Hospital Corps, U.S. Army.
Private Killmer, promoted to be Corporal, September 1, 1898.
Private Linzell, transferred to Hospital Corps, U.S. Army.
Private Schmidt, transferred to Hospital Corps, U.S. Army.
Private F.M. Stevens, transferred to Hospital Corps, U.S. Army.
Private Wallis, promoted to be Corporal, September 1, 1898.
DEATHS.
Private Kotzenberg, died August 12, 1898, at Second Division Hospital, Jacksonville, Fla., typhoid fever. Buried at Carlstadt.
Private Newman, died August 18, 1898, at Second Division Hospital, Jacksonville, Fla., typhoid fever. Buried at Paterson.
Corporal Cohen, died August 19, 1898, at Second Division Hospital, Jacksonville, Fla., typhoid fever. Buried at Carlstadt.
Corporal Roe, died August 26, 1898, at Second Division Hospital, Jacksonville, Fla., typhoid fever. Buried at Auburn, N.Y.
Private Reddy, drowned August 29, 1898, at Pablo Beach, Fla. Buried at Lyndhurst, N.J.
Lance Corporal Frank Greuter, died November 7, 1898. Buried at Carlstadt.
Private Valentine Greuter, died July 29, 1899. Buried at Carlstadt.
"God bless our native land
Firm may she ever stand
Through storm and night."