On the 6th of February, 1863, our connection with the Army of the Potomac was dissolved. We were ordered to Newport News, where the regeneration of the regiment steadily progressed. At three o'clock in the morning the regiment was ordered to pack up, and be ready to march in two hours. It was pitch dark and raining terribly, with mud six inches deep. It was some little time before the men could get bon-fires burning, so that we could see to pack up. The men dressed, took what rations they could get, and fell into line after repeated orders, leaving most of the tents standing, they being wet and too heavy to carry. Marching to the depot, the mud was not only deep but extremely slippery, and nearly every man slipped down, and those that did not, were completely spattered over from head to foot, and were covered with mud and completely drenched through to the skin by the rain, which was decidedly uncomfortable that cold morning. After shivering in the cold for two hours, we were allowed to get aboard the freight cars, and were taken to Acquia Creek. Here we went aboard the steamer John S. Brooks, as did also the 8th and 15th C.V. Most of the men had little or no water in their canteens, and all suffered terribly from thirst before we reached Newport News on the afternoon of the 8th. Whose fault this was I am unable to say, but it was a great piece of negligence to put troops aboard a vessel knowing that they were to remain there for over two days without seeing them provided with water. Newport News was a paradise by the side of Falmouth. There was no mud, rations were good, and the weather was beautiful. We were quartered in barracks, which made it very pleasant.
On landing, the first thing was a drink of water, and then two days rations of soft bread were issued to us, which, although being two loaves, was disposed of in less than two hours; the first one in something less than five minutes. Not having tasted any for over five months we appreciated it. The guard mounts, dress parades, and reviews at this place were the grandest and most imposing ever witnessed in this country. About five weeks were spent in drilling, recruiting, &c., at the end of which time the 3d Division was ordered to Suffolk to strengthen the force at that point.
It was the early part of March and bitter cold when the regiment left Newport News and by boat went to Norfolk, where they went aboard a train consisting of platform cars with a single baggage or passenger car in the rear for the officers. Everything being in readiness the train started and sped on its way to Suffolk, arriving there at midnight. The men jumped off the train and fell into line, when lo and behold only two officers were to be found. The car containing the officers had not been attached to the train. The two officers present had for some reason got upon the cars with their men, and therefore were with the regiment. But we had no orders, whether we were to go farther or stay there, and whom to report to we did not know. The train moved off, dark as a pocket, and some of the men nearly froze to death. Something had got to be done. After a little consultation, the two officers took command of the two wings respectively, and the First Sergeants the companies. The regiment moved off by the flank to cut their way through the darkness and encamp somewhere, until daylight. We first tumbled down a steep embankment, at least twelve feet, the men falling on all sides, then into a brook two feet deep and six feet wide, and finally brought up against a rail fence. Tearing this down we passed into a field and halted, not deeming it best to proceed farther. The men spread out in every direction in the darkness, each one bringing in what he could find in the shape of wood to build fires.
There was a house near by which we supposed to be vacant, and the men in the darkness had taken all the fence and wood, and had even pulled the clapboards from the house as high as they could be reached. When morning came, we found it to be an elegant wood house painted white, and the owner thereof at first made quite a fuss, but when he found so many of the men nearly frozen to death, he concluded it was all for his country. It was on that night that the Quartermaster-Sergeant found that one of the men had bored a hole into a barrel of coffee, which he had mistaken for whiskey, and was shaking it up good, wondering why it would not run. Daylight finally came and we found that we were on the outskirts of the city and within sixty rods of the 112th N.Y. Vols., whose generous Colonel hearing the noise in the night, reconnoitered and finding that we were Union troops, ordered all his cooks up to make us hot coffee. Kettle after kettle of hot coffee all sweetened, was brought to us, which we drank in large quantities before getting thoroughly warmed through. This was a perfect godsend to us, and a more thoughtful action could not have been done by the Colonel. We fully appreciated it, as was shown by the fast friendship between the two regiments thereafter. Some half dozen of the men nearly died, by being chilled through, being several days before they were able to do duty. The officers arrived next morning on the regular train.
During the siege of Suffolk the Sixteenth took an active part on the defensive side, and had the honor of two engagements with the enemy, in one sally losing one killed and seven wounded, and in a sort of half battle across the Nansemond river, two killed and eight wounded.
"But though we did not suffer much from the enemy, we did a good deal from General Peck. This fidgetty old man kept fortifying and re-fortifying until his soldiers had become regular mud-diggers, and he had spent no end of labor and money in constructing works of immense magnitude, to defend a position not worth holding. There was digging and basket-weaving to an extent that went far toward developing the talents of the soldiers for farm work, and there were orders enough issued to supply the greatest army on earth. It will not easily be forgotten that the Eighth, who had been especially affected by gabion manufacture, awoke one morning and, instead of the stars and stripes, found a large sheet floating from their flagstaff with the inscription: "Peck's Avengers, or the Basket-Makers of the Nansemond."[2]
At four o'clock in the afternoon of April 11th, could be seen the pickets coming into town with a vengeance. Soon could be heard the long roll beating in the camps near General Peck's headquarters, and almost instantly the excited General himself came riding into camp at break-neck speed, the guard coming very near bayoneting his horse, ordering the regiment under arms immediately. Colonel Beach, who was in his tent, overhearing the order, came out and told the General "that he would frighten the best of troops, and that he (Beach) would not stir an inch until he received orders through the proper channels." As soon as the orders came properly we fell in and marched to our position at the breastworks. Two days after, the rebels made an attack directly opposite the Sixteenth on the Somerton Road, but were so handsomely repulsed by the artillery, that they soon retired. From that time until the siege was raised we had the usual amount of hard labor and constant watching night and day that attends a siege and constant exposure to the enemy's fire. On April 24th, under the command of General Corcoran, the 13th Indiana, and the 11th and 16th Connecticut regiments went out on the Edenton Road on a reconnoissance. After skirmishing with the enemy for about thirty minutes, the regiment charged, driving the rebels from their pits to their earth-works, which was, perhaps, fifty rods. After holding this line long enough for the artillery to have a good duel and the General to find out the strength of the rebels, we returned within our defenses.
The regiment captured five prisoners, the officer of the pickets, a sword and various cooking utensils, which the rebels had left in their hurry. The casualties were one killed and seven wounded. This was a very successful skirmish and gave the men great confidence in themselves. Owing to swamps and the slashing on the edge of the woods, which the rebels had prepared, the men came into camp with their clothing completely ruined, making it necessary for an issue of clothing the next day.
On Sunday, May 3d, the regiment was ordered across the Nansemond river on the Providence Church Road, where they were engaged with the enemy several hours. The casualties were two killed and eight wounded. Privates H.W. Barber (A) and Frederick P. Cooley (H) were killed outright and Capt. Tennant, Serg't Pocket (D) and Corp'l Rivers (I) died from the effects of their wounds soon after, making really a loss of five killed. First Serg't Blakeslee (A) seriously wounded in the head, (making the second time in the same place,) was examined by Col. Beach, Capt. Pasco, and other members of the regiment and pronounced dead and left on the field.
Chaplain Francis B. Butler, of the 25th N.J. Regiment, while picking up Serg't Blakeslee, was fatally shot by a sharpshooter and died a few hours after with prayer on his lips for the wounded who lay around him. Under good surgical treatment by Surgeon Mayer, Serg't Blakeslee was able to fight other battles. Capt. Tennant was wounded in the early part of the action, and was taken from the field on a rude litter; notwithstanding the pain caused by the wound, he was cheerful and smiling; and remarked that he was good for a ten day's furlough. He was a brave young officer, and one of the best in the service. He was greatly beloved, and his early death brought sadness to many a brave heart. Young Barber's last words were "Tell mother that I never was a coward."
[2] Surgeon Mayor's Address. Re-union, 1867.
After the siege was raised, the regiment remained in Suffolk until the middle of June, when they removed to Portsmouth, and encamped about three miles from the city, on the western branch of the Elizabeth river. This camp was formerly occupied by the 22d Georgia (rebel) regiment. The site was in a splendid grove and being on the bank of the river, afforded a fine place for the men to bathe, row, sail, and catch fish and oysters. I recollect of no place where the regiment lived so well, and enjoyed themselves so much as there. We had been there but two days when we were ordered to build a fort; but after working on it two days, it was abandoned by an order to be ready to march in light marching order with three days rations the next morning. Every thing was made ready and the men retired as usual at nine o'clock. But at half-past eleven the long roll sounded, and after forming in line the regiment marched through the woods to Portsmouth, a distance of three miles, in pitch darkness, and embarked on a transport, which left at 3 A.M.
At eleven o'clock we found ourselves at Yorktown, encamping on the grounds where many a soldier had fought. The works built by McClellan and even those of the revolutionary war were still visible as was also the spot where the sword of Lord Cornwallis was surrendered by General O'Hara to General Lincoln, who was designated by Washington to receive it.
At half-past one on the morning of the 26th, the long roll beat again, and after falling in, the regiment marched to the wharf where they waited in the rain till 10 o'clock for a transport. At eleven all was ready, and after sailing up the Pamunkey river, which is one of the crookedest rivers in the country, as well as one of the finest and most picturesque, we disembarked at White House Landing.
Spier's cavalry had gone ahead of us one day and surprised the rebels, they barely having time to get aboard a train which stood in readiness to take them to Richmond. The cavalry then made a little raid through three counties, returning on the evening after the day of our arrival. They reported one severe fight and the capture of Brig. Gen. Wm. H.F. Lee, one Lieutenant-Colonel, one Surgeon, and one hundred prisoners. They also brought with them thirty-five wagons, besides burning eighty-five wagons and several railroad bridges. On the 28th, General Dix and Staff arrived and preparations were at once made for a move towards Richmond. Captain Pasco, of Company A, received his commission as Major on this day.
On the morning of July 1st, the reveille sounded early and the division crossed the river, and after marching hard all day encamped for the night near King William's Court House. The next morning we were aroused at three o'clock, and marched to Brandywine, a distance of eight miles. On July 3d the reveille sounded at three o'clock, but we did not commence to march till five, when we marched pretty steady until one o'clock. The entire army had to stop then on account of the heat. This was the hottest day of the summer, and between the hours of twelve and one, sixty-five men fell out of the Sixteenth, fifteen of them having received a severe sunstroke. Four out of our Brigade died almost instantly. At five in the afternoon, the division commenced to march again and did not halt till nine in the evening, making in all about twenty miles that day. The name of this place was Taylor's Ferry.
The next day being July 4th, was a legal holiday in times of peace, but was not so for this division. The 11th and 16th Connecticut regiments and a section of battery were left at this point to guard a bridge and the supply train. The rest of the army moved to Hanover Court House, where they had a rather tough time. After marching all day, they had to tear up three miles of railroad, cut telegraph wires and burn bridges, all under the fire of the enemy. This did a great deal of good, for Lee was in Pennsylvania, and finding his communication cut in the rear, retreated.
The next morning the Sixteenth was up at three, moved their position at five, and at eight the troops who had gone to Hanover Court House, returned. At noon three regiments were detailed to forage on the country and take all the beef, mules, horses, sheep and salt, which they could find. At two o'clock a supply train from White House Landing arrived with two days rations. At eight in the evening, we found that the enemy were after us, and we started on the retreat. Contrabands followed us in large numbers. At ten the rebels were close on our heels, as we passed through Mongoheck. At three o'clock the next morning we had gained somewhat on the rebels and were allowed an hour's rest at the Town of Ayletts. The men were so tired on this march, that they actually slept while marching, and when we halted at 3 o'clock that morning the men fell as if struck by lightning and were all sound asleep in two second's time. But our position was not safe, and the bugle sounded the reveille at four and after partaking of a scanty breakfast, we marched till half-past two in the afternoon, when we encamped about a mile this side of King William's Court House in a hard rain storm. This was certainly a hard fate for those who went to Hanover Court House, too fearful to be believed, making three days and two nights of hard labor with only one hour's rest. But it had to be done. Several who were unable to keep up and fell out were mercilessly shot dead by guerrillas who harassed the rear. A great many of the men provided themselves with horses, which they took out of barns by the road-side. The reveille as usual sounded at an early hour (three A.M.) the next morning and we marched to White House Landing, reaching there at eleven. The next day the division took up their line of march and marched to Hampton through a heavy rain storm and mud knee deep. Thence by boat they proceeded to Portsmouth, reaching their old camps on the afternoon of the 14th.
This raid in history is called the "Blackberry Raid," there being no end of blackberries, of the most luscious kind. It was during this raid that a new Chaplain, (Charles Dixon, of the Eighth Conn. Vols.,) reported for duty. There seemed to be at first serious objections, both among the officers and men, to our having a chaplain, but they were soon dismissed; for he was one of those rare men whom all learned to love, and his bravery in battle and southern prisons won him a good name. On our return to Portsmouth, through a special order, a Regimental Band was organized, which grew to be a most excellent one, and added not a little to our military standing.
July 15th, 16th, and 17th, was spent in fixing up our camp. But the 19th, 20th, and 21st was spent entirely in trying to have a review. The first day we marched two miles, stood in a broiling sun for two hours, and then returned to camp. The next day the same performance was gone through with and no reviewing officer came. Finally, on the last day, just as General Foster got within a few rods of us the rain came down in torrents, and continued till General Foster went away. The rain stopped at five, and as the men were all ready for the review it was agreed that the ceremony should be gone through with by Colonel Burnham acting as reviewing officer, and Major Pasco taking the command. From this time until the ninth of September there was but little to attract attention, except the general routine of parades, picket and police duty. The regiment therefore had a little time of rest.
On the 30th of July, Colonel C.H. Prentice, J.G. Rathbun, J.A. Case, and J.S. Brooks, of Hartford, made a visit to the regiment. As nearly the entire regiment were acquainted with them, they were very welcome, and we presume they enjoyed their visit, especially the day that they visited the outposts, a distance of seven miles from camp, when one of those southern rain-storms came up, and they got a thorough soaking. This delayed their visit another day, in order to have their clothes dried. The quartermaster temporarily supplied them with brogans and clothes, but the amusing part of it was that Col. P. was so large and tall that the soldier's sizes could not be gotten only half on, and therefore with a cap and coat half on, and pants that reached a little below the knees, and with a huge pair of brogans, he looked so badly that he stayed in the Colonel's tent and played euchre all day and night. It was about this time that we had some terribly hot weather, the thermometer reaching 118° on August 2d, and 115° on August 3d. The pious members of the regiment went to work and built a chapel, which turned out to be a very fine edifice, and together with a temperance organization which started about this time, effected a great deal of good. The chapel was dedicated with impressive ceremonies, and a church organization was formed, the fruits of which last even to this day. The surgeons ordered some hospitals built, which were also dedicated by a fine dance. The morale of the regiment at this time was about perfect, and I can not better write of it than in the words of Surgeon Nathan Mayer, in his address to the regiment, at its reunion in 1867.
"Gradually the finest camp but one, which it has been my fortune to see, grew up. The most perfect order, the most civilized condition prevailed. The tents were neatly and prettily furnished, as our Connecticut country homes are, and the ground was always in beautiful condition. As winter approached the men built a hospital of logs, log-houses for the officers, log-kitchens, and eating saloons for the companies. Our pioneers erected a perfect village. Everybody purchased pine slats and made pretty huts, using their tents as peaked roofs to the structures. A chapel of considerable pretensions was raised—and here the difference between Connecticut and New York soldiers was apparent in more than one way, but in none more than in this. While the New York battery at our side thought first of all of erecting a theatre, we built a hospital and a chapel. While they gave their leisure to studying parts and rehearsing them, we organized prayer meetings, a choir, and endeavored in various ways to perfect ourselves as soldiers and men. Of great benefit was the presence of ladies in our camp. A number of officers and men had asked their wives to visit them in camp, and ere long a pretty row of cottages extended on the right flank of the grounds; in these there was singing, and chatting, and playing euchre or whist, and other social games almost every evening. And the demeanor of every soldier in the camp of the Sixteenth Connecticut at that time was gentlemanly. Not an oath was heard, not a phrase that in any way could offend the ear of a virtuous female; not an act perpetrated that savored of anything but deference and respect toward the sex. To complete the softening influence thus cast on the regiment the Colonel's mother, Mrs. Burnham, paid us a visit, and went among the men as such a good, sensible old lady, with a heart full of kindness, and a head full of shrewd Connecticut sense, would naturally do. She advised and comforted those in trouble, listened to complaints and nursed the sick. She was regarded as a representative of the good respectable home life which we had left, and to which we would sooner or later return, and the veneration and affection of the regiment for her was unbounded.
During all these weeks the military standing of the regiment rose perceptibly. There was not a cleaner, prompter, more loyal, reliable, and honest regiment in the service. No brighter arms, no quicker evolutions, no greater perfection in drill was to be found any where. The dress parade every evening gathered a crowd of lookers on. The guards, if detailed to other points, attracted attention. And the name of the Sixteenth was a good name in every man's mouth."
On September 9th, five companies were detailed to go to South Mills, to do two weeks picketing. South Mills was about twenty-two miles from our outposts, and within seven miles of Elizabeth City. It was infested by guerrillas, and was merely held that no rebels might come through Dismal Swamp and surprise us. It was about the only place in that famous swamp where a few houses could be built and called a village. The detachment, under the command of Major Pasco, reached Deep Creek that morning, at half past nine. At Deep Creek the five companies, together with two wagons loaded with provisions, embarked on two canal boats, and hitching mules to the boats we were on the way to North Carolina. The scenery through the swamp was novel. This mode of traveling was new to the soldiers, and was highly enjoyed. Some footed it on the tow-path, some played chess, or cards, others smoked and read, and others danced to music from a fiddle and guitar, played by Dennison and Thompson. The canal was filled with turtles, snakes, and frogs of large dimensions. Thousands of snakes were killed that day, as the boat moved slowly along by the men cutting them in two with willow switches.
Arriving at South Mills at 7 P.M. we immediately proceeded to encamp in the dark by the side of Spier's cavalry about half a mile from the wharf; but before we could pitch our tents a terrible thunder storm came up and continued all night. Such a storm of lightning, thunder and rain, but few of us ever witnessed before. We were about drowned out by morning. The next day was a lively one. We changed camp in the morning, and three of the cavalry who were on picket were fired into by a party of about 40 guerrillas. One of the men was shot in three places and expired immediately. His horse was also shot in three places, the other two escaped all injuries. Two companies of cavalry were immediately sent out and scoured the woods, but could find nothing. One of our spies came in and informed us that the guerrilla camp numbering about 800, had found out our strength and position and they would probably attack us. So we moved our camp to our original position by the side of the cavalry for safety. In the evening a guerrilla, while trying to crawl through the lines, was caught by the pickets. The next day three men were arrested, one of which proved to be a guerrilla, and was sent to General Getty for sentence. His name was Finley. Late in the evening three more companies of the 5th Pennsylvania cavalry came to reinforce us. On September 14th a spy came into camp and informed us that the commander of the guerrilla band was in town, and that he was to leave that night with four recruits. Captain Robinson, with 26 picked men, were detailed to go out and lay in ambush, where he was to pass. But we lost them as they had passed there in the afternoon.
On Tuesday, September 15th, three scouting parties, consisting of the 5th and 11th Pennsylvania cavalry went out in the morning on three roads and returned in the evening, bringing with them five rebel soldiers and a colored man. On the 21st, five companies of the 15th Connecticut relieved us and the next day we returned to our old camp at Portsmouth. This trip, although dangerous on account of guerrillas, who were continually shooting at us if we strayed a short distance from our command, was much enjoyed by the men. The excursion we shall always look back upon with pleasure. The beautiful scenery, and many incidents and exciting times we shall never forget. The frightful noises of Dismal Swamp in the night cannot be imagined by one who has never been there. A night in Dismal Swamp is never forgotten.
After our return from South Mills there was another of what the boys called "a long spell" of quiet, the time being used up mostly by picket duty. Thanksgiving was observed as well as possible. On the 6th of December Sergeant Major Herbert Landon and 1st Sergeant B.F. Blakeslee received commissions as Second Lieutenants; and on New Year's Day Lieutenant Turner was promoted to be Captain. On the 3d of January, the Chapel was dedicated with ceremonies, the Chaplains of the 11th Pennsylvania, 13th New Haven, 5th Pennsylvania cavalry, and 8th and 16th Connecticut regiments taking part. The building was filled to overflowing and excellent music was furnished by a choir of ladies and gentlemen. In the evening a prayer meeting was held. The next day a few recruits came, being the only ones the regiment ever had, for while other regiments recruited largely, no one cared to enlist in the Sixteenth, a regiment noted for having severe hardships. And it was very unfortunate for those who joined us that day, for nearly all of them died in prison. On the 20th of January orders came to be ready to move at an early hour the next morning. In accordance with the order the men were up as early as one o'clock; and at precisely three o'clock the camp was fired and in a few moments nothing was left of the finest camp we ever had. Taking the cars we went to Portsmouth.
At Portsmouth the companies E, K, G, and B went aboard the steamer S.R. Spalding and the remainder on the Vidette. The weather was very fine and we had merry times and a fine sail around Cape Hatteras, reaching Morehead City on the morning of the 23d and proceeded thence by rail to New Berne. We left New Berne at midnight on the "John Farron" for Plymouth, and arrived there at midnight on the 24th. On the 26th Companies A, C, and H, under Capt. Hintz, went on a raid with other troops, under Col. Maxwell.
These companies returned on the 28th, and after that there were several raids into the interior, which the men enjoyed very much, as they had exciting times in breaking up rebel cavalry camps and capturing and burning up large quantities of cotton and tobacco, besides taking a number of prisoners. For some time the regiment lay here, going on raids, doing picket duty, and making such fine dress parades that it called forth the entire town every evening. One little incident which occurred here, and as it has been published, I will insert it as written by Serg't Maj. Robert H. Kellogg:
"There's one thing, at least, to be said in favor of Plymouth. It was the home of a few "true blue," loyal Southerners—a very few, however. They were hard to find, and I fear they are yet. The loyal men before spoken of, and some who were not loyal, were blessed with numerous daughters, fair to behold, but apt to have a few little weaknesses, such as 'dipping snuff' and smoking corn cob pipes. One of these men lived in a small house half way between the camp of the 16th and the western or left end of the town, and was blessed (or cursed, I doubt if he knew which at times,) with three daughters, and pretty ones they were. 'The prettiest girls I've seen yet!' was the emphatic declaration of each succeeding man who was lucky enough by dint of long watching or shrewd stratagem to get a peep at them. For, be it known, the father was as watchful over these fair scions of his house, as any ogre, read of in fairy tales, could possibly have been over his captives. Perhaps he had read some sensation tale of 'excesses of a brutal and licentious soldiery,' and thereupon resolved to keep his household uncontaminated from the least approach of such an insidious foe. I can not think he had taken a good square look into the honest faces of the 16th men, nor heard Chaplain Dixon preach to his crowded audience of boys in blue, every Sunday. At all events he seemed determined that no officer or soldier should form the acquaintance of his girls. On the other hand, our boys were quite as determined that they would become acquainted with them. But how was it to be done? That was the question which was presented to the mind of many a one who had cast 'sheep's eyes' at that humble dwelling in the hope of getting a glimpse at its fair inmates. Many and various were the plans which were made, but alas!
"None had been successful until at last one day two members of Co. "A" walked coolly and boldly into the forbidden cottage. First let me give the names of the ones who did it, then I'll tell how they did it. The persistent and successful schemers were Corporal Sam Belden, (remembered by every one of his surviving comrades to-day and by many friends in this vicinity,) and Private John Quinn. And this was 'the way the fort was taken.' After much polishing of buttons and brushing of uniforms, they obtained possession of the Company Clothing Book and another volume of similar size, which they found in the Orderly Sergeant's tent; and on a pleasant afternoon quietly left the camp, unnoticed, and proceeded to the scene of interest. A modest knock at the door brought out 'pater familias' or 'old tar heels' as the unsuccessful besiegers spitefully termed him. Corporal Sam coolly informed him, with that imperturbable gravity of countenance and manner for which he was celebrated, that they were deputed by General Wessells, who was in command of the Post, to take the census of the town. There was no getting around that, for an order emanating from such a source was not to be lightly disobeyed; so they were rather ungraciously admitted to the heretofore unvisited house—couldn't call it a mansion by any stretch of the imagination. Once seated inside, Corporal Sam as spokesman, commenced a series of questions which the U.S. Census Commissioners would have hard work to equal, private Q. jotting down the replies of the blushing and confused girls, and of the astonished father. Of course, by this cool and ingenious method they obtained the names of all, their ages, and other interesting information, and moreover they did it all with such suavity, and conducted themselves with such gentlemanly deportment, that, from that day they were invited, happy, envied, and regular visitors at the forbidden house."
On March 3d, at noon, the regiment was again on board the "John Farron," and on its way to Newbern, arriving there the next day evening and quartering in barracks near the Neuse River.
On the 11th the "Lancer" brought our baggage, and also the sad news of the drowning of Captain Mix, who in attempting to return to the regiment took a small schooner for Roanoke Island. While in Albemarle Sound, a squall struck the boat; and the boom knocked Capt. Mix overboard, as he sat smoking on deck. A boat was instantly lowered; but when within twenty-five feet, he sank. He was a good swimmer, but was encumbered with a heavy overcoat and large boots. He was well versed in tactics and military discipline, and was the last of the original captains of the Sixteenth.
On March 17th, Company "G," was ordered to Fort Stevenson, to relieve the Twenty-first, who were ordered to Little Washington.
On March 20th, a negro riot occurred across the Trent River. Captain Burke, with one hundred men of the Sixteenth, soon quelled it, bringing with him between two and three hundred prisoners, whom he turned over to the Provost Marshal.
Pack up at once, was the order soon after tattoo, and at midnight the regiment with all its baggage was aboard the "Thomas Collyer," returning to Plymouth. It was terribly stormy and rough; and at seven in the evening the vessel got out of the channel and ran aground in Albemarle Sound, a distance of about seven miles from Roanoke Island Landing. Here we lay until half past eleven on the morning of the 23d, the gale blowing terrifically, and the boat going higher and higher on the ground with every wave. The men were without rations, and suffering terribly from the cold and freezing spray. A flag of distress was raised, but not until the storm abated did any vessel dare come for our rescue. Finally the "General Berry," which was at Roanoke Island and had been watching for twenty-four hours, came and took us to Plymouth. The "Thomas Collyer" was nearly dashed to pieces, and it was some months before she was got off the bank, and was put in running order. The regiment lost considerable camp and garrison equipage, and some ordnance stores, which were washed overboard.
I find in my diary, as early as March 24, that our pickets were fired into by rebel scouting parties, and on the next day we were expecting to be attacked. This rumor probably arose from some contrabands whom we traded with at the picket post, on the Columbia road, and who reported the enemy in large numbers in two counties south of us. These reports, together with the information General Wessells received, that the ram Albemarle was about completed, led the General on the 13th of April to ask for more troops, in order to hold the place if attacked. General Butler replied: "You will have to defend the district with your present force, and you will make such disposition of them as will in your judgment best subserve this end."
About the 14th of April, while officer of the picket, on the Lee's Mill road, an officer of General Wessells' staff and the officer of the day, invited me to accompany them outside of the lines, to see what information we could pick up. Mounting cavalry horses, we went out a distance of four or five miles, returning by the way of the Columbia road picket post. At one house where we stopped, a lady who had just arrived from the interior said that the rebels were concentrating, and it was reported that they were going to attack Plymouth. As I had heard these stories before, I paid but little attention to her report at the time.
On Saturday, April 16th, two days after, I was again officer of the picket on the Columbia road. The next morning (Sunday) at dawn, while asleep at the reserve post, I was awakened by the discharge of a musket by the picket at the bridge. Rushing to the spot, I found the picket to be William Maxwell, of Company A. He reported five or six scouts who had come to the edge of the woods suddenly, but fled on being fired at. I reported the fact to General Wessells, on being relieved at nine o'clock A.M. He seemed to think them guerrillas, but they proved to be advance guards, for in the afternoon when most of the soldiers were in church, the pickets were attacked by cavalry on the Washington and Lee's Mill roads simultaneously, and so sudden was the attack on the Washington road that the entire reserve picket were taken prisoners.
The "long roll" was sounded, and the troops prepared for the attack. Light artillery and cavalry were immediately sent out to ascertain the strength of the enemy. They had a short engagement, resulting in one killed, and Lieutenant Russell of New York Cavalry badly wounded. In the garrison, there were besides the Sixteenth Conn. Vols., the Eighty-fifth New York Volunteers, One Hundred and First, and One Hundred and Third Pennsylvania Volunteers, Twenty-fourth New York Independent Battery, two companies of the Second Massachusetts Heavy Artillery, two companies of New York Cavalry, and two companies Second North Carolina Volunteers, making in all 1,600 effective men. Early in the evening the enemy made a furious attack upon Fort Gray, on the river, a mile above the town. By eleven o'clock in the evening it was ascertained that the enemy had a force of between ten and twelve thousand men, and all loyal women and children in the place were embarked on board the "Massasoit," and sent to Roanoke Island. It was very evident to us that we must either be killed or go to "Libby." Company "H," Captain Barnum, had been sent that morning to Roanoke Island for duty, and therefore a remnant of the regiment avoided the fate of prison life in the south.
The next day the enemy opened with artillery at an early hour, and the firing on the skirmish line was very lively until eleven o'clock. Captain Burke was wounded in the shoulder during the morning. At five o'clock in the afternoon I was detailed with fifty men to skirmish with the enemy on the Lee's Mill road for an hour or two to allow the regular picket line a little rest and time to eat. I had hardly got the line properly deployed, when it seems the enemy were ready to make their assault on the town. From the woods emerged the Confederates in great numbers. The loyal line fired a few regular shots, but the enemy came pouring out of the woods in such numbers that the Union line withered and shrank back. The enemy's artillery came to the crest of the hill, and so well was it manned that our camps were completely riddled, and Fort Williams partially silenced.
It was a regular artillery fight, and many old army officers said it was the handsomest artillery duel they ever witnessed. Three of the Sixteenth were wounded in the engagements in the skirmish line, one of whom was A.P. Forbes, of Company B. The enemy came on so rapidly, and we retired so slowly, that the two lines nearly met. One of the Sixteenth was pressed so closely that, in the dusk of the evening, he dodged behind a stump and thereby saved himself from capture. He was so near the Confederate battery that he overheard a staff officer give the order, "It is no use, captain, we cannot endure this fire,—limber to the rear." The enemy retiring, he returned inside our ranks.
Heavy artillery firing was kept up until eleven o'clock P.M., and under cover of the darkness, the enemy advanced up to Fort Wessells, a work about ten hundred yards in front of the line of fortifications. Fort Wessells was furiously stormed three separate times, by a very superior force with great loss of life. The third time it had to succumb, and sixty men were captured. The fort was well supplied with hand grenades, which were used with great effectiveness. It was during this night that the famous ram, "Albemarle," came down the Roanoke river, passing our batteries, sank the Southfield, and drove off the balance of the fleet of gunboats. The Bombshell had previously gone up the river, and in returning was so completely riddled by the enemy's batteries, that she sank on arriving at the dock.
The next day their artillery opened on the right of the town, but the lay of the ground in front of our works was such that it was really our strongest point. A few of their infantry advanced into a ravine in our front, and were unable to extricate themselves until dark.
During the day the town was pretty effectually shelled, and a caisson was blown up on each side. Our navy being entirely gone, the ram "Albemarle" did good service for the enemy, with ninety and two hundred pound shot.
Three separate times were we asked to surrender and save further sacrifice of life, but each was peremptorily declined. General Hoke (rebel) the last time replying, "I will fill your citadel full of iron; I will compel your surrender, if I have to fight to the last man."
There was no doubt now but what we must succumb sooner or later. There was no hope unless reinforced, and that could not be as long as the ram was in the river. The men built bombproofs and traverses, which were a great protection.
Late in the evening, Co. "G" was ordered to the left of the town, on the Columbia road. They lay there during the night, preventing the gunners on the ram from sighting their guns and coming on deck; they also had two little brushes with cavalry, who broke through the line to procure beef that was in a yard near by. The enemy, meanwhile, were concentrating nearly half their force opposite this point.
By 4.30 o'clock on the morning of the 20th, (I find from their accounts,) they had ten regiments of infantry, four battalions of artillery, (Pegram's, Blunt's, Marshall's, and Lee's,) and two companies of cavalry, besides the "Albemarle" and "Cotton Plant." This must have made a force of five or six thousand in line about six hundred yards in front of our works. At this hour a rocket was sent up as the signal for the attack, and a more furious charge we never witnessed. Instantly over our heads came a peal of thunder from the ram. Up rose a curling wreath of smoke—the batteries had opened, and quickly flashed fierce forks of flame—loud and earth-shaking roars in quick succession. Lines of men came forth from the woods—the battle had begun.
Company G, being on the skirmish line, fell back and entered "Coneby redoubt," properly barred the gate and manned the works. The enemy, with yells, charged on the works, in heavy column, jumped into the ditch, climbed the parapet, and, with the artillery company (who had previously occupied the redoubt), for fifteen murderous minutes, were shot down like mown grass. The conflict was bloody, short, and decisive. The enemy were in such numbers that we had to yield. The gate had been crushed down by rebel shot, and the enemy poured in to the number of five or six hundred, with thousands on the outside. Great confusion then ensued; guns were spiked, musket barrels bent, and all sorts of mischief practiced by the Union soldiers, while the enemy were swearing at a terrible rate, because we would not take off equipments and inform them if the guns could be turned on the town, and in trying to reorganize their troops, who were badly mixed, to take the next work. We were prisoners, and as we marched out of the fort we could see at what a fearful cost it was to them. There were in the fort at the time, forty artillery men, who fired grape and canister, and forty-two of Company "G," (two being unable to get in, or not hearing the orders, went back to town,) making a total of eighty-two men, against five or six thousand. Our loss was one wounded, an artillery man, while the rebel loss, from their latest accounts, was five hundred killed and wounded. The enemy then passed in the rear and on the bank of the river, to the right of the town, and while part of their force was on the right working towards the center, those on the left were doing the same. Every position was obstinately maintained. A squad of men here, and a squad there, the redoubts and forts were but slowly captured. For three or four hours, Fort Williams, with guns turned, did murderous execution, nearly two hours of which was in the streets of Plymouth. By half-past ten o'clock the last gun had been fired, the flag over our citadel lowered, and Plymouth had fallen.
The troops were captured by an overwhelming force, after one of the severest fights of the war. In the words of J.W. Merrill, the author of "Records of the Twenty-fourth N.Y. Battery," "there is no question that the defense of Plymouth by its garrison of 1,600 men against a besieging force of 12,000 men, was one of the hardest fought battles of the war." The rebels raised the "black flag" against the negroes found in uniform, and mercilessly shot them down.
The shooting in cold blood of three or four hundred negroes and two companies of North Carolina troops who had joined our army, and even murdering peaceable citizens (as I have the personal knowledge of the killing, with the butt-end of a musket, of Mr. Spruell, the man whom I boarded with, and by the way, a secessionist, for objecting to the plundering of a trunk which he had packed), were scenes of which the Confederates make no mention, except the hanging of one person, but of which many of us were eye-witnesses, was but the Fort Pillow massacre re-enacted.
The following order was issued the day after the capture by Gen. Peck: