CHAPTER XVI.

CAMP INCIDENTS.

N front of and separated from our camp by a swampy

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piece of land, was quite a little village of board shanties

occupied by contrabands. These people, gathered in from the surrounding country, had been put under the care of our troops, the men working on the fortifications, while the women were employed at washing, or other work adapted to them. There were probably about a hundred of them, men, women, and children.

One night, not long after the events recorded in the previous chapter, the writer was on guard duty at camp. It was just after 10 o'clock, and I had duly posted my relief, when a party of our men who had been visiting friends in a neighboring regiment, returned in an hilarious condition, but becoming quiet as they reached our camp, gave the countersign, and passing over the guard line, took the direction of the contraband camp above mentioned.

The night was clear and cool. The men in their quarters had ceased their talking and fallen asleep, and nothing broke the silence around, save the call of some sentry pacing his beat in some of the various camps about us.

Suddenly from the contraband quarters came the sound as of pounding, breaking down doors and shanties, soon increased by the shrieks of the colored wenches and the shouts of the men, as they endeavored to defend their

homes from the rude assaults of our gang of drunken comrades, who, it seems, had taken it into their heads to give them a "waking up" and were pulling down their shanties and smashing things generally. All at once a shot was fired, and immediately the camp was alarmed. The colonel flew out of his tent and across the parade in his shirt and drawers, crying at the top of his voice, "Turn out the guard. Fall in the regiment. Turn out, every man."

Instantly the whole camp was a scene of confusion. Waked so suddenly from their slumbers, the boys at once supposed that the whole rebel army was in front of our works, and they tumbled out of their quarters in all shapes and conditions, some without hats or shoes, some in shirt and pants only, and all half dressed, grasped their gun and cartridge box, and rushed across the swamp toward their place in line at the works.

Officers, half dressed, brandished their swords, and shouted their orders. The colonel raved and tore around. The guard off duty hastily formed and made speedy tracks for the scene of action, and a confused noise of shrieking women, crying children, shouting men and officers, barking dogs, and crashing shanties, made night hideous for awhile.

With the alarm of the regiment and the subsequent confusion, the men who had caused all this commotion prudently skedaddled to safer quarters, and in a few minutes the disturbance was suppressed, the excited negroes quieted down, the regiment came back to camp and to bed again, and the guard returned with one prisoner, a large negro who had been caught in the act of striking one of our men. with an axe.

This fellow was terribly frightened at being a prisoner under such circumstances, a fact which we at the guardhouse on duty, thought best to keep alive; and so for the next two hours we reviewed his case, and impressed him with the assurance that at 8 o'clock the next morning he

would be court-martialed, and at nine brought out in front of Fort Rodman and shot for a murderous assault upon a United States soldier with an axe.

We described very vividly the particulars of his execution, and thus kept the poor fellow praying, singing, and asserting his innocence of any criminal intent, enduring untold agonies of mind, until near morning, when our attention being drawn away for a few moments, he slipped out of the guard-house unobserved, and we never saw his face again.

Thus ended this carousal, and the principals in the affair were sought in vain. But to pay for this, Colonel Buffum the next day increased the camp guard to its full number of fifteen or twenty posts, and our turn for guard duty came every other day. This, with the usual picket and fatigue duty, kept us almost constantly on duty. In this case, as in many others since the world began, the innocent were made to suffer for the guilty.

But with all our extra duty we had one respite, one chance to enjoy ourselves. At different times we were allowed a pass to Norfolk, giving us permission to spend the day enjoying ourselves in the city. These passes were often altered in such a manner as to enable us, when we could get away from camp, to visit Norfolk at any time without applying for a new pass. As an illustration of the way this thing was performed, I give a copy of a pass granted, which reads thus:

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HEADQUARTERs Fourth Regiment Rhode Island Volunteers, CAMP AT GETTY'S STATION, VA., Dec. 6, 1863. Guards and patrols will pass the bearer, Geo. H. Allen, of Company B, Fourth Regiment Rhode Island Volunteers, to and from Norfolk, Va., until 8 P. M. this day.

Signed: M. P. BUFFUM, Lt.-Col. Comd'g Reg't.

CHAS. WILSON, 1st Lieut. and Adj't.

Countersigned: G. W. GETTY, Com'd'g Brig.

By erasing the "8 P. M. this day" and substituting the words "further orders," we made a general pass of it, which we could use at any time by being careful to have some one of our comrades to answer "Here" for us at roll-call while we were away.

As the Norfolk Theatre was in full operation, many of us would stay down to the city through the evening to attend. The theatre was over at eleven P. M., after which we would make our way back to camp.

Crossing the ferry to Portsmouth without any trouble, we would travel up the railroad in a crowd composed of members of different regiments, to the number of thirty or forty, all provided with general passes as the above. Well knowing these passes were of no use to us in the night, on reaching a guard post, we usually had among our number one or more who, being on guard detail in their respective camps that night, were in possession of the countersign.

As

About a mile out of Portsmouth was posted a cavalry picket, extending across the railroad. As we neared this post one night, coming home from the play, we heard the sentry's challenge, "Halt! Who goes there?" One of our number answered, "Friends with the countersign." a rule, this all-powerful word would pass us all through by the one who held it, but this night the sergeant on duty refused to pass us unless each and every one of us could give the word. The man who held it passed through, and the rest of us gathered in a knot on the railroad and held a council of war.

It would not do to go back to the city or to stay here all night, so we resolved to run the post at all hazards. Quickly agreeing upon a plan, we sent one of our number ahead to hold a confab with the sergeant, and meanwhile the rest of us closed upon the line, and before the sergeant or his men knew what we were up to, with a rush we passed

over the line and scattered for the woods near by. The sergeant cursed and shouted, and ordered his guard “To horse!" in pursuit, but they could not follow us far in these dark woods, and an hour later found us all right in camp. Another source of amusement was created near our camp. A large building, capable of holding two hundred or more, was erected by the men of our brigade in their spare hours, for the purpose of giving theatrical entertainments, etc. It was built of rough pine slabs and timber hewn out of the forest.

A company of amateur performers was organized, and with a stage, some cheap scenery, an orchestra, and other requisites, several plays were very well enacted. The house was crowded nightly, and many a 50-cent "shinplaster" found its way into the pockets of the "management," who did their utmost to cater to the amusement of their comrades; and though their resources were limited, yet their performances were generally very satisfactory, judging by the applause of their auditors.

Friday, November 27th, at dress parade, an order was read to us by the adjutant, relating to the trial and sentence of two of our regiment for desertion. One by the name of Leach, of Company H, and the other, Samuel Ames, of Company A. Leach deserted us at Annapolis, Md., on or about Jan. 2, 1862; was caught, brought back to the regiment at Beaufort, N. C., and deserted again at "Camp Starvation," or Waterloo, on our march from Berlin to Fredericksburg. He was tried by court-martial at Norfolk, found guilty, and sentenced to be shot to death, at or near Fort Rodman, on Monday, December 7th, next ensuing.

Samuel Ames, of Company A, was also sentenced to be shot at the same time and place. The firing party was drawn by lot from each company, and all the preparations were made for this sad event, when, the day before their sentence was to be executed, there came a reprieve for both