Please
handle this volume
with care.
The University of Connecticut
Libraries, Storrs
III
lllll
3 9153 00054006 4
•J
(0
a
A EECORD OF COLLEGE, FIELD, AND PRISON. ^, .
THE
KNIGHTLY SOLDIER:
A BIOGRAPHY
OF
MAJOR HENRY WARD CAMP,
TENTH CONN. VOLS.
BY
,^^t
CHAPLAIN H^'CLAY TRUMBULL.
-OOj^OO-
BOSTON:
NICHOLS AND N O Y E S.
NEW YORK: OLIVER S.FELT.
18G5.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1805, by
NICHOLS & NOYES,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massa-
chusetts.
Stekeottped by C. J. Petees & Son, Boston.
Peess of Geo. C. Rand & Aveet.
^
€a tijc parents
TO WHOSB
JUDICIOUS TBAINING AND EARNEST PEATEBS
HENRY CAMP
OWED SO MUCH, AND WHOM HE LOVED SO DEABLT,
This Tribute of Affection
IS DEDICATED IN TENDEEEST SYMPATHY.
This book is not an attempt to prove that Henry-
Camp was brave, accomplished, and upright in all
the coiu'se of his beautiful hfe here, or that he was
fully prepared for the future to which God so early
called him. It simply shows him as he was, group-
ing the memorial sketches of those who knew him
best in the various relations of student, soldier, and
Christian; with copious extracts from his own let-
ters, written in all the freedom of family corresj^ond-
ence.
It was undertaken in behalf of his home friends,
college-mates, and army comrades, who are sure to
prize whatever concerns his record, or honors his
memory. Yet, it is believed, it will have si^ecial
value to many who, without knowing him, were his
campaign associates in the Carolinas and Virginia,
and who here find narrated the more striking inci-
dents of their own army experience. Nor can any
reader fail to admire his glowing details of personal
VI preface:
adventure, and his graphic descriiition of events na-
tional in scojDe and of historic significance.
One thing demands exphination. The relations
between the compiler and the subject of this volume
were of j^eculiar and rarest intimacy. The two
were, during the years chiefly considered in this
record, united in well-nigh perfect oneness. To
have left out all the references to Henry Camp's
friend, of whom almost every page in his later writ-
ings made mention, would have been impossible
without destroying the fullness and coherence of
the narrative, and distorting the j^icture of army
life to the eyes of those familiar with the seldom-
equalled attachment of the friends to each other.
Very much of this nature was stricken from the
record, — all indeed that could be with seeming
propriety. It is hoped that what remains will be
ascribed to the afiectionate partiality of him who
has fallen, and not to any want of good taste on the
part of one who was loved by and who mourns him.
H. C. T.
KiCHMOND, Va,, April 21, 1865.
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD AJTO SCHOOLDAYS.
Eomance of the War with Rebellion — Henry Camp's Parentage and
Boyhood — His Sensitive Conscience — Responsibility for Baby
Sister — Child Sermons — Infant Sabbath School — High-school
Experiences — S. M. Capron's Tribute — Passes Examination for
College — A Year at Home — Enters Yale — Professes Christ —
Letter from Rev. Dr. Bushnell 13
CHAPTER II.
COLLEGE LIFE.
Boating — University Races of 1850 — Reflex Influence of a Hard
Struggle — A Ring won and worn — Yale and Harvard Oarsmen
in the Army — Chaplain TwichelPs Sketch of the Worcester
Regatta — Testimony of College Comrades — An Unbelieving
Classmate led to Christ — Contribution from E. G. Holden . 23
CHAPTER III.
TEACHER — LAW-STUDENT — SOLDIER.
Teaches at East Hartford — War-clouds — Letter to Arrogant
Southerner — Commences Study of Law — Self-denial in not
vn
vm CONTENTS.
enlisting on First Call —Joins City Guard — Funeral of Gen. Lj'on
— Commissioned in Tenth Conn. —Farewell Speech at Asylum-
Hill Sabbath School — Joins Kegiment at Annapolis — Open-air
Prayer Meeting — Camp Varieties — Foster's Brigade — The
Burnside Expedition — First Sabbath at Sea — Trials on the
" Swash " — " City of New York" wrecked — A Fair Face and a
Brave Heai-t 43
CHAPTER lY.
ROANOKE AND NEWBERNE.
Advance up Pamlico Sound — The Night before the Fight — Battle
of Roanoke Island — The First Wounded — On Special Duty —
Crying a Cry out — Again on Transports — Kerosene Water —
Energetic Cockroaches — Courage in Dark Days —Always knight-
ly—Sunset at Sea— Poetry — Lauding at Slocum's Creek — The
Battle of Newberne — Victory — The City entered — Guard Duty
— Sympathy with Enlisted Men — Picket Life — An Alarm — Bold
Scouting— Love of Home — Volunteering for Special Service —
Living and Dying to a Purpose 56
CHAPTER V.
CAMP-LIFE AND CAMPAIGNING.
Incidents among the Contrabands — Fugitives at the Picket-line —
" Dey sell Ebry One " — Pet Deviltry of the South — Praying for
Liberty — Fighting for Government — Proficiency in Stealing —
Letters on Personal Religion to a Classmate — In Hospital —
Rumors of a Move — New BriJ,^ade — Capt. Vicars's Memoir —
Longings for a Clmm — Promotion — The Adjutant's First " Con-
solidated " — A New Chaplain — The Two Friends — Forty-fourth
Mass. Regiment — Tarboro' Scout — Evening Skirmish at Little
Creek — Halt at Williamston — Song from the Jack Tars — Pa-
triotism thawed out — Foraging — Home Relics protected — A
Southern Swamp — John Brown Chorus — Wayside Prayer —
First Visit Home — Goldsboro' Raid — A New Disappointment —
Fredericksburg Failure 83
CONTENTS. IX
CHAPTER VI.
THE FIRST CHARLESTON EXPEDITION.
New Expedition — Sail to Port Royal — Camp at St. Helena — Bat-
talion Drill — Sabbath-school Teaching — Oriental Scenery — The
Twins — Wine and Cards — Seabrook Island — Exciting Debark-
ation and Advance — A Skirmish — Camping in the Rain — Scout-
ing — First Attack on Charleston — Chafing at Inaction — Out-
post Life —Was the Behemoth a Mosquito ? — Prayer-meeting in
the Woods — Another Separation — Loneliness — Work for Christ
— College-mates — Excursions — Beauties of the Seabrook Place
— Gen. Stevenson's Reconnoissance — Under Fire — Dodging Bul-
lets—Artillery Duel— Enjoyable Excitement of Danger — Com.
Rodgers — Court Martial 112
CHAPTER VII.
JAMES ISLAND AND FORT WAGNER.
A New Campaign— Chowder Party— Orders for a Move — Prayer-
meeting on Shipboard — Landing at James Island — Watching
Distant Battle — An Evening Advance — Bewilderment on the
Picket-line — More Mosquitoes — A Morning Nap — Advantages
of a Short March to the Battle-field — Second Battle of James
Island— Attack on the " Pawnee "— Taking to the Woods — Capt.
Rockwell's Battery — Col. Shaw's (54th Mass.) Regiment — To
Morris Island — Grand Bombardment — Second Assault on Wag-
ner— Niglit Battle-scene — Gen. Gillmore — Stopping Stragglers
— A Wail of Agony — Defeat — Morning after the Battle — Flag
of Truce —Visit to the Field — Treachery — The Friends are Pris-
oners— Fort Sumter— Charleston Jail 137
CHAPTER Vni.
CHARLESTON AND COLUJMBIA — PRISON LIFE AND
ESCAPE.
Prison Sensations — The Friends separated — Gloomy Forebodings
— Removal to Columbia — Affectionate Letter — Re-union— Pris-
on Occupations —" De Mates" — Thought ruled out — Chaplain
CONTENTS.
released — Sabbath-evening Reflections— Columbia and Hartford
— Longings for Liberty — Plan of Escape — Baggage — Parched
Corn — Lay Figures — Moments of "Waiting — Capt. Chamberlain
— Ivanhoe in tlie Kitchen — Corporal "Bull Head " — Capt. Senn
— Nervous "Work — Out and Off — Joy in Freedom — Trestle
"Walking — Refreshing Sleep — Fear of Detection — A Long "Way
Round — Rain and Darkness — Spectral Ox-team — Blind Guide-
posts — A Wet Lodging — The Lazy Farmer — Kindness to Ani-
mals — Fire on the Hillside — Freshet — A Lost Day — Terror
to Small Boys — A December Bath — Cheerless Wakenings —
Sabbath of Hope — An Unwelcome Attendant — Discovered —
Prisoners once more — Child's Opinion of Yankees — Politics —
Soldiers' Graves — A Well-laden Table well cleared — Gathering
Broom-straw — Soft Pillow — Tied to the Saddle — Slip 'twixt the
cup and the lip — Chesterville— Yankee Menagerie — McDon-
nell the Brute — Attempted Conversion— Worth of a Good Moth-
er — Whittling — Lost Brother — Pepper-wash after a Flogging —
Genuine Rebels — Again in Columbia — Close Confinement — Sat-
isfaction in Effort — Box from Home 159
CHAPTER IX.
LIBBT PRISON — HOME — CAMP PAROLE.
The Tenth Regiment — Fears lest it should Fight — No Rest in
Prison— Exchange Rumors — Clouds — Egg-gatherers of the Ork-
neys — New Escape Plans — Tunneling — Discovery — Removal
to Richmond — Ride through Rebeldom — A Night at Petersburg
— $300 for a Hack — Life at the Libby — Rations — Cooking —
Opening Boxes — Dead Lights — Gloom — Boat up! — Reading
the List — Hamp or Camp — Sensations of Freedom — Stewart
Nos. 1 and 2 — Leaving the Libby — Sick Privates — The Old Flag
— The Regiment leaves St. Augustine — Meeting of the Friends
— ^Annapolis — Privileges of Freedom ..... 207
CHAPTER X.
CAMPAIGNING WITH THE ARMY OF THE JAMES.
The Tenth Moves to the Front — "Unselfish Anxiety — Exchanged -
A Hasty Leave — Work of the Regiment — Joyful Re-union -
CONTENTS. XI
Ride to the Front — Disaster — Search for a Corps — Glad Greet-
ing — Covering a Retreat — Flying Artillery — Calculating an
Aim — A Long Campaign — A Good Correspondent — Love of
Home — From Prayer to Fighting — Picket Skirmish — A Night
of Peril — Explosive Bullets — Volleys better than Sharp-shoot-
ing — Bermuda Hundred — Major Trumbull's Battei-y — Dread of
Inaction — Cold Harbor — Picket Duty — Danger on tlie Vidette
Line — Sociable Pickets — Night Evacuation — Listening — Ex-
citing Advance — Capture of Prisoners — Howlett's Redoubt —
Naval Gunnery — The White Flag — Another Retreat Covered —
Letter-writing under Difficulties — Severe Shelling — Moment of
Expectation — Under-estimated Descriptive Powers . . 220
CHAPTER XI.
DEEP BOTTOM — STRAWBERRY PLAINS — DEEP RUN.
The James crossed — Establishing Pickets by Night — Columbia
Acquaintances — Another Shelling — Hot Days — Stormy Nights
— Narrow Escape — Uniform Cheerfulness — Strawberry Plains
— In Reserve — Dangers of the Rear — Exposed Picket-line —
Anxious Night — Second Corps Advance — A Check — Brave
Commander — Successful Flanking — Indian Warfare — Military
Execution — A Week's Hard Fighting — Falling Back — Casual-
ties in the Tenth Conn.- Night Marching and Countermarch-
ing. 249
CHAPTER XII.
IN THE PETERSBURG TRENCHES.
Col. Plaisted again in Command — Move from Deep Bottom — Night-
marching — Waiting at the Pontoon — Cheerless Bivouac — Pe-
tersburg in Sight — Deserted Negro Camp — Burro wing for Quar-
ters — Dangerous Locality — Mortar-shelling by Night — Deadly
Fascination — Weeks of Peril — Sharpshooting in the Trenches
— The Courageous Coffee-bearer — Ricochet Shot — Presence of
Death — Incidents of Picketing — The Wounded Vidette — Socia-
bility of Enemies — More Sharpshooting — A Miss as good as a
Mile — Rejoicing over Atlanta — Shotted Salutes — Railroad
Target — Longings for Rest — Promotion — Withdrawal from
Trenches — Halt at the Rear 281
XII CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XIII.
LIFE AND DEATH BEFORE KICHMOXD.
Petersburg to Deep Bottom — Tedious March — Gloomy Day-dawn
— Battle of Newmarket Heights — Gen. Terry's Approach to
Richmond — Days of Activity and Privation — Laurel-Hill Skir-
mish — Happy Prisoner — Poor Families — Reluctant Rebel — The
Treasured Flag — Old Men leave the Regiment — Flag of Truce-
Wayside Prayer-meeting — Threatened Battle — Signs of a Re-
treat — Gen, Kautz's Flank turned — Crash of Battle — The
wounded Skirmisher — Flying Infantry — Brave Soldiers — Vic-
tory — Even Terms — Seen through the Clouds — New Move —
Out and In again — Last Night of Life — The Death Morning —
Darbytown Road — Brilliant Scene — Opening Battle — Prepar-
ing for an Assault — Cheerful among the Desponding — True
Heroism — Good-bye — Deadly Race — The Final Charge — " I do
Believe" — The Death-shot — Last Look at the Flag — Left on
the Field— Heartless Foes — Flag of Truce — Recovery of Body
— Generosity . . 296
CHAPTER Xiy.
MEMORIAL TRIBUTES.
Body borne Home — Funeral Services — Testimony of Col. Otis — of
Gen. Hawley — of "Daily Post" — of "Evening Press" — Letter
from John Hooker, Esq. — Letter from Gen. Plaisted — Close of
the Record — From the Battle-field to Glory ... 319
THE
KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
» »
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOLDAYS.
HE short lives of some who have fallen on the
field of the new American conflict contained
more of romantic adventure and of heroic daring
than the material of which the novehsts and the poets of
our language have wrought their most attractive narratives
during the present century.
Another Cooper could find a Leather Stocking and a
Harvey Birch in almost every camp of our army. Another
Tennyson could sing of exploits of American battalions
which would pale the brilliancy of the charge of the Light
Brigade. Dumas could bring out of the truth from An-
dersonville and the Libby such tales of horror as would
commonplace the ghastliest stories of the French Bastile.
The famihar, every-day home letters of young officers of
culture and of nobleness, who have had widest experience
13
14 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
in campaigning, and greatest vicissitudes of fortune in tbis
now-closing war, furnish a variety of description and inci-
dent, possessing permanent interest even to those who have
no special knowledge of the writers. To present such
material from the record of one of whom his brio-ade-com-
mander said, " Our cause cannot boast a nobler martyr,"
and his colonel, that '* the service has never suffered a
heavier loss in an officer of his grade," is the purpose of
this volume.
HENRY WARD CAMP, son of Rev. Henry B.
Camp and Cornelia L. Baldwin, was born February 4th,
1839, in Hartford, Conn., where his father — formerly
pastor of the church in Bradford — then resided as a pro-
fessor in the American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb.
To the judicious training and Christian faithfulness of
his parents, young Camp was indebted for the preservation
of his rare symmetry of mental and moral character, and
for its full and delightful development. Unusually gentle
and retiring, even for a child, he shunned the boisterous
companionship of city boys, and clung to his home, con-
tented with its quiet occupations and satisfied in its enjoy-
ments. Almost unaided, he learned to read at four
years of age, and, from that time onward, found his chief
enjoyment in books. His love of reading was so great,
that, after he had devoured all the children's books in the
house, he resorted to those far beyond his years. He
BOYHOOD. 15
gained an excellent knowledge of history before taking it
up as a study, and was ever fond of books of travel. Too
close devotion to reading, with too little out-door exercise,
began to affect his head seriously ; and he was so troubled
by somnambulism that, during his eighth year, he was sent
to Durham to spend some time with his grandfather on a
farm, where books were entirely forbidden him. This rest
to his brain, with the exercise and other advantages of
country Kfe, quite re-established his health ; and, after a few
months, he returned re-invigorated to his home.
One of the earliest observed peculiarities of young
Camp's chai-acter was the exquisite sensitiveness of his
conscience. He shrunk from every appearance of evil,
and was oppressed by a fear of doing wrong. When he
was five years old, a sister was born to him. As he first
looked at the baby treasure, with childish joy and wonder-
ment, a shade of thought came over his face, and he went
alone from his mother's room. On his return, his mother
* asked him where he had been. " I've been, mamma," he
said, " to pray to God that I may never hurt the soul of
dear little sister." Although too young to have a con-
sciousness of responsibility for others, the incident is in
keeping with his whole course in boyhood.
A year later, he exercised himself in writing a little book
of sermons, taking a text, and making on it brief comments
as striking and original as the employment was unique for
a boy of his years. In looking over the manuscript, his
16 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
good mother observed frec[uent blanks where the name of
God should appear. Inquiring the reason of these omis-
sions, Henry informed her that he had feared he was not
feeling just right while he was writing, and, lest he should
take the name of God in vain by using it then, he had left
the blanks in its stead. The strictest letter of the Jewish
law could scarcely exact more reverent use of the ineffable
name of Jehovah than was demanded by the tender con-
science of this pure-minded boy.
His fear of transs-ressino; induced habits of self-examina-
tion which gave him no little discomfort. Recognizing the
standard of absolute right, his rigid scrutiny of motive and
purpose, with his discriminating review of each outward
act, revealed to him his imperfections of thought or deed ;
and, as a consecjuence, he sometimes suffered keenly from
unmerited self-reproach. At five years old, he joined the
Sabbath-school infant-class of the Centre Church (Rev.
Dr. Hawes) . His teacher there was Mrs. Roswell Brown,
who has held the same position for a quarter of a century.
Writing little notes to her, young Camp said m more than
one, with his uniform sensitiveness, "I am sometimes
afraid I shall love you better than I do my mother. I
don't think I do, but I am afraid that I shall. " " Mrs.
Brown," he said, one Sabbath morning, .as he took his
place by her side^ "I am afraid I did wrong last Sabbath.
While you were talking to us all, I wrote my sister Cor-
nelia's name with my finger on the seat. I didn't think it
SCHOOLDAYS. 17
was wi'ong then ; but I've thougbt it was, since, and I've
wanted to tell you of it." No misdeed of bis during bis
foui'-years' stay in tbat infant-class was greater tban tbe
one tbus candidly confessed. His teacber tbere says of
bim, witb warmtb, " I bad nearly four bundred and fifty
children under my care in tbat room, but never but one
Henry Camp."
Yet, in spite of bis quickly-reminding and often-accusing
conscience, Henry Camp was of cheerful temperament, and
richly enjoyed Hfe. His refined sensitiveness made bim
only more lovely to others, and be was the light of a happy
home. No laugh was more merry than bis, and no one
did more than be to provoke a laugh at every proper tune.
With the exception of a few weeks at the district school,
he studied at home until he was ten years old. In 1849 he
entered the Hartford Public High School, which be attended
for six years. It was there that be first mingled actively
with his fellows. Although be did not seek to lead, he
found himself ahead. His comrades looked up to bim.
In the recitation-room, tbe play-ground, and the gymnasi-
um, he was a pattern. Loving out-door sports and athletic
exercises, he practised and strengthened his muscular pow-
ers until his form and figure were a type of bis compacted
and well-rounded intellectual development.
S. M. Capron, one of bis high-school teachers, says of
bim, " There was a charm about him even then, which
attracted all who knew bim. I never bad a pupil who
2
18 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
possessed a purer cbaracter, or more completely won the
respect and even admiration of his teachers. He despised
every thing mean, every thing vulgar ; and his generosity
and manliness in his intercourse with other boys made him
a general favorite among them. He was remarkably
truthful also, and this, never from a fear of consequences,
but with a spontaneity which showed that truth was at the
foundation of his character. As a scholar he was very
faithful, accurate, and prompt in his recitations ; especially
copious and rich in his choice of words ; of superior talent
as a writer. No one stood above him in bis classes ; and
he took some prizes, while in the school, for English composi-
tion and other exercises. But it was chiefly his uncom-
mon nobleness of character which made him conspicuous
then, as in later years."
In the summer of 1855, Camp passed examination for
admission to Yale, and connected himself with the Brothers'
Society. But as he was yet only sixteen, and had been so
long in seldom intermitted study, his judicious parents
strongly advised his waiting another year before entering
on his collegiate course. The disappointment to him was
severe, yet he yielded gracefully, as always, to the judgment
of his parents, and for a twelvemonth occupied himself in
out-door exercise, in attention to pencil-sketching, and in
the study of French and German. He joined the fresh-
man class of Yale, in September, 1856. Then commenced
his life away from the home he had so dearly loved, and in
CONVERSION. 19
the possession of which he had been so favored. Then,
fii'st, he was obhf>;ed to forego the privilege of speaking in
all freedom of the experiences of each day to those whose
sympathy and affection were not to be doubted.
Perhaps it was the missing of home confidences, with the
accruing sense of personal lonehness in a crowd of compar-
ative strangers, that, soon after he entered college, caused
thoughts to centre, as never before, on his need of fellow-
ship with a loving and sympathizing Saviour, who alone
could fally understand him. He had long been a prayer-
ful, reverent worshipper of God, approaching him in con-
scious need, in reliance on the one Mediator ; and his life
had for years given delightful evidence of the power of
grace in his inner being : but not until now did he make
open profession of faith in Jesus as his Saviour. Just
when his heart was transformed into Christ's image by the
power of the Spirit is known only to the Omniscient one.
During his spring vacation, in May, 1857, he connected
himself with the North Congregational Church at Hartford,
of which the Kev. Dr. Bushnell was pastor. That pastor's
counsel he had often sought, and to him he had confided
his doubts and fears. Of Henry Camp as an inquirer
concerning divine truth, and as he showed himself before
•and later, his good pastor writes thus in glowing
eulogy : —
20 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
LETTER FROM THE REV. DR. BUSHNELL.
HARTFORD, Nov. 7, 1864.
Eev. H. C. Trumbull.
My dear Sir, — I most deeply regret that I cannot do
more to help you in your difficult but laudable endeavor
to prepare a memorial for om' young friend, Major Camp.
It is my great misfortune that I do not remember facts and
conversations so as to be able to report them. I only remem-
ber impressions, or resulting estimates and opinions ; and
these will give you little help in the sketching or living pre-
sentation of a character.
It was my privilege to know this young patriot and sol-
dier from his childhood up. The freshly vigorous, wonderfully
lusti'ous, unsoiled look he bore in his childhood, made it con-
sciously a kind of pleasure to pass him, or catch the sight of
his face in the street. I do not recall ever havinsr had such
an impression, or one so captivating for its moral beauty,
from any other child. And it was just as great a satisfaction
to see him grow as it was to see him. I used to watch the
progress of his lengthening form as I passed him, saying in-
wardly still, " Well, thank God, it is the beautiful childhood
that is growing, and not he that is outgrowing his childhood."
The noble man-soul was evident enough in the child,
and when it was bodied forth in his tall, massive, especially
manly person, it was scarcely more so. Indeed, the real
man of the child was never bodied forth, and never could
be, without a history of many years, such as we fondly hoped
for him, but shall never behold. He died, in fact, with his
high, bright future shut up in him, — it will only come out
DR. BUSHNELVS LETTER. 21
among tLe angels of God ; and, I doubt not, will make a really
grand figure there. Seldom have they hailed the advent
among them, I think, of a youth whose kinship, and peership
and hero-life begun, they will more gladly acknowledge.
Indeed, I have never been able to keep it out of my mind,
since I first heard of his death, that there was some too great
aptness in him for a place among these couriers and squad-
rons of glory. It seems to be a kind of extravagance to say
this, but I know not how otherwise to describe real impres-
sions. He was such a man as, going into a crowd of strangers,
would not only attract general attention by his person, by
his noble figure and the fine classic cut of his features, by the
cool, clear beaming of his intelligence, by the visible repose of
his justice, by a certain, almost superlative sweetness of mod-
esty : but there was, above all, an impression of intense puri-
ty in his looks, that is almost never seen among men, and
which everybody must and would distinctly feel.
But I am only describing here what others felt as truly as I,
and could describe, if they would, much better than I;
though, perhaps, the acquaintance I had with Henry's interi-
orly personal character and struggles in the matter of religion
may have prepared me to note more distinctly than some
others would the signs outwardly appearing. He came to
me a great many times, from his early childhood onward,
to lay open his troubles, and obtain spiritual direction. My
conviction, from the very first, was, that I had nothing to do
with him but to put him in courage, and enable him to say,
" I believe. " I never saw him when I did not think he was
a Christian, and I do not believe that he ever saw himself
early enough to properly think otherwise. Still he did think
22 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
otherwise much longer than I wished. The difficulty was to
get him away from the tyranny of his conscience. It was
so delicate and steadfast and strong, that his faith could not
get foothold to stand. I feared many times that he was
going to be preyed upon all his life long by a morbid con-
science. Still there was a manly force visible, even in his
childhood ; and I contrived, in what ways I could, to get that
kindled by a free inspiration. To get him under impulse,
afterwards, for the war was not half as difficult, I presume,
after the point of my endeavor was already carried ; for,
having now become a soldier of Christ, by a clear and con-
scious devotion, he had only to extend that soldiership for
the kinsfdom of heaven's sake.
As far as he was concerned, the kingdom of heaven was
not worsted when he fell ; but the loss to his country and his
comrades in arms was certainly great, greater than most of as
will know. Besides, it is a great and sore disappointment to
us all, that we are cut off abruptly from that noble and high
future we had begun to hope for him. Let us beUeve that
he can have as high a future where he is, and resign him
gladly to it !
Sympathising deeply with you in the fall of your heroic
brother and friend, I only wish I could help you more effec-
tively in the very tender office you have undertaken.
Wishing you all the success which the beautiful subject of
your memoir deserves,
I am truly yours,
HORACE BUSHNELL.
CHAPTER II.
COLLEGE LIFE.
T tte commencement of his sophomore year,
Camp became especially interested in boating;
finding pleasure in both its exercise and its ex-
citement. He joined the Varuna Boat-club, and was soon
as prominent there for his strength, skill, and energy in
the use of the oar, as he was distinguished in every other
pursuit to which, at any time, he devoted himself. So
well established was his reputation in this line, that he
was one of the picked crew to represent Yale in the Uni-
versity race, at the Worcester regatta, in July, 1859.
That regatta was an era in his life, and its influence
was important in shaping his whole future course. In it
he first realized the keen enjoyment of exciting endeavor,
and attained the satisfaction of accomplishing something,
through the straining of every nerve, in a contest with his
fellows, while stayed by the consciousness that he held the
honor of those whom he loved, in his keeping. He gave
himself up to the struggle, both in preparation and perform-
ance, with his whole heart and soul, and seemed to secure
23
24 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
thereby a relish and a fitness for the work to which he was
subsequently called for his country. A plain but massive
ring, made from the gold of the regatta prize, he wore to
the last, — refusing to part with it, even at an extravagant
price, when most pinched for the comforts of life in a
Southern prison ; and he yielded it only when the enemy
wrenched the sword from his grasp, and di-ew the ring
from his finger as he lay in the helplessness of death on
the field of his last battle.
The Yale and the Harvard crews in the Worcester races
of 59 were,
Yale. Harvard.
H. S. Johnson (stroke), C. Crowninshield (stroke),
Charles T. Stanton, jr., W. H. Forbes,
Henry W. Camp, E. G. Abbott,
Joseph H. Twichell, H. S. Russell,
Charles H. Owen, J. H. Wales,
Frederick H. Col ton, J. H. Elhson (bow),
Hezekiah Watson (cockswain),
It is a noteworthy fact, that every man of the Yale
crew, and a majority of those from Harvard, were subse-
quently in the Union army.
Of Johnson, Camp wrote, when he met him in North
Carolina on the staff of Gen. Terry, " He is an Aide, ranking
as lieutenant, — very nice little position, — left the sig-
nal corps some time since to take it. Signalling, he didn't
like at all, — no fighting, — slim business, — at it through
the whole Peninsular campaign, and was heartily sick of it.
HIS ASSOCIATES. 25
At Fair Oaks, he volunteered on some general's staff, and
went in — lively time — horse shot under him. That
was more like it." Stanton, as captain in the 21st C.
y., was wounded at Drury's Bluff. He was subse-
quently commissioned Lieut. -Col., but was mustered out
in consequence of the severity of his wound. Owen,
Camp's early playmate, school-fellow, and always attached
friend, was in the 1st Conn. Heavy Artillery, and later
on the staff of Gen. Eobert 0. Tyler, receiving at Cold
Harbor a wound, the effects of which he must cany to
his grave. The fair and stalwart arms of Stanton and
Owen were often admu-ed by enthusiastic boatmen in the
days of college racing. The right arm of Stanton and the
left of Owen dropped powerless by their sides in the same
good service for then- country. For three years, Twichell
filled with rare usefulness and acceptance, the chaplaincy
of the 2d Regiment, Excelsior (Sickles') Brigade. Col-
ton, as an army surgeon, had Owen under his skilful
charge at the Douglass Hospital, in Washington, D.C.
Watson has fought long and nobly as colonel of the 143d
Regiment, N. Y. S. Y. Crowningshield and Forbes are, at
the writino; of this, colonel and lieutenant-colonel of the
2d Mass. Cavalry, the former command of the lamented
Gen. Lowell. Abbott fell at Cedar Mountain, while
Russell, going out a captain in the 2d Mass. Infantry,
returned a colonel of a colored cavalry regiment. Surely
a noble record of noble men !
26 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
The following graphic and thrilling sketch of the Wor-
cester regatta is from Twichell's graceful pen : —
THE WORCESTER REGATTA.
" la looking back to Henry Camp, as I knew him in col-
lege, it is impossible not to recall his singular physical beauty.
The memory of it harmonizes very pleasantly with the mem-
ory of his beautiful daily life. Each became the other so well,
while they were joined, that, though now his body has gone
to dust, I find, while musing on my friend, an unusual delight
in continuing to associate them. He furnishes a perfect
example of the truth, ' Virtus pulclirior e pulchro corpore
veniens. ' His handsome face, his manly bearing, and his
glorious strength, made that gentleness and goodness which
won our love, the more illustrious. I well remember, while
in college, riding out one day with a classmate of his, and
passing him, as, erect and light of foot, he strode lustily up
a long hill, and the enthusiasm with which my comrade pro-
nounced this eulogy, ' There's Henry Camp, a perfect man,
who never did any thing to hurt his body or soul ! ' That was
before I knew him well ; for, as I have intimated, we were
not in the same class : but what I heard and saw, made me
so desirous of a better acquaintance, that when, in the
summer of '59, our crew was made up for the college regat-
ta, to take place at Worcester, and it fell out that he was
assigned to duty in the boat, as No. 3, while I was No. 4, I
was more than pleased.
" The six weeks of training that followed, culminatinj^ in
the grand contest, witnessed by far the greater part of all our
THE REGATTA. 27
personal intercourse, for after that time our paths diverged.
That was the last term of my senior year, and the end
was not far off. AVe parted on commencement day ; and
thouo-h I afterward heard from him, especially of the fame of
his soldiership, and hoped to see him, we met again no more
than once or twice. But, at the distance of five eventful
years, the news of his death struck me with a sense of my
bereavement, so deep and painful, that, looking back to those
six weeks, I could not realize that they were nearly all I had
intimately shared with him. Nor am I alone in this : I know
of others, whose private memories of Henry Camp, as limited
as mine, stir in their hearts, at every thought of his grave,
the true lament, ' Alas, my brother ! '
" During the training season of which I speak, the crew had,
of course, very much in common. We ate at the same table,
and took our exercise at the same hours ; so passing consider-
able part of every day together, beside the time we sat at
our oars. Our hopes and fears were one, our ardor burned
in one flame ; we used even to dream almost the same
dreams. The coming regatta was our ever-present stimulus.
To win, — there was nothing higher in the world. It quick-
ens the pulse even now to remember how splendid success
then appeared.
" Camp gave himself up to the work in hand with that
same enthusiasm of devotion that carried him to the fore-
front of battle on the day of his glorious death. He was
always prompt, always making sport of discomforts, always
taking upon himself more than his own share of the hard
things.. Severe training in midsummer is something more
28 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
than a pastime. It abounds in both tortures of the body,
and exasperations of mind, as all boating men bear witness.
Under them, not all of us, at all times, kept our patience ; but
Camp never lost his. Not a whit behind the best in spirit
and in zeal, he maintained under all circumstances a seren-
ity that seemed absolutely above the reach of disturbing causes.
The long, early morning walk Into the country, the merciless
rigors of diet, the thirst but half slaked, the toil of the gym-
nasium, the weary miles down the Bay, under the cockswain's
despotism, the return to childhood's bed-time, and other at-
tendant afflictions, often outweighed the philosophy of all but
No. 3. He remained tranquil, and diligently obeyed all the
rules ; serving as a sort of balance-wheel among us, neutra-
lizing our variableness, and making many a rough place
smooth. He had a presence, — almost the happiest I ever
saw, and a temper that betrayed no shady side. He carried
all his gi'ace with him everywhere, and had a way of shed-
ding it on every minute of an hour, — no less on little matters
than on great, — that gave his company an abiding charm,
and his Influence a constant working power; and so he went
on working with all his might for the college, doing us good
daily, gaining that skill and muscle, which afterward enabled
him to pull so brave an oar through the stormy waves of
Hatteras.
" He had soldierly ways about him then. Discipline was
his delight, and coolness never deserted him. We were up-
set one day. In deep water, under a bridge ; and, at first, each
struck out for land, till Camp, remaining in mid-stream,
called us back to look after the boat, which was too fi'all a
THE REGATTA. 29
structure to be left to chance floating. That Hatteras ex-
ploit, when we heard of it, did not seem at all strange. It
was just like him to volunteer, and still more like him to be
the last man to give up what was undertaken.
"At last the day came, — the day big with fate, dreaded, yet
lono-ed for. Noon of July 26th found us sitting in our good
boat, 'Yale,' on the beautiful Lake Quinsigamond, near Wor-
cester, ready at the starting goal, for the signal to 'Give
way.' The waters of the lake glittered and dimpled under
the summer sky, as if mocking our deep cares with levity.
Each grasped his oar, and, though it was a vain attempt,
tried to be calm. A mile and a half away up between the
woody banks fluttered the white flag, that marked the turn-
ing goal. Beside us was the ' Harvard ' and her splendid
crew, gentlemanly fellows, whom we had liked at sight.
There was also in the line a boat from Brown University,
with a son of Adoniram Judson at one of the oars. Many
thousands of spectators clustered on either shore, among
whom were hundreds of college men, all eager and emulous,
but with no stirring of bad blood. The grace of generosity
presides most happily over those congresses of youth, and
keeps out bitterness from their rivalries, — or did, at least, in
our day. But the bustle of the crowd did not reach us as
we sat watching the slow preliminaries of the judges and
umpire. AVe only heard the music of the bands, which
then seemed a call to battle, — almost as much so as the terri-
ble bugles that nearly all of us were destined yet to hear.
At last the suspense was ended. The first signal gun sent
its sharp echo to the neighboring hills, — ' Ready to give way 1'
30 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER,
Every oar quivered in Its place. A second gun, whose
echoes we did not hear, — ' Give way all! ' — and we were
off.
" In twenty minutes, the first day's race was over. All the
colle2:e-boatin2 world knows we were beaten in it, and that
at evening, Harvard bore into Worcester, with songs and
shouting, the colors that pertained to victory. We shook
hands all round, — the two crews, — and tried to appear to take
it easy on both sides, though it was not, of course, exactly
in the same mood that we returned to our quarters, and our
friends to theirs. But Yale was used to it, and so was Har-
vard. It was the old thing over again : the Fortune that
prospers oars was too coy to be propitiated by us. Yet we
had hoped for a change : undoubtedly we had expected it.
Then was Henry Camp a refreshment to us. He had done
his best, he was disappointed ; but he radiated a quiet resig-
nation that was coutaojious. It was a comfort to talk with
No. 3 that night.
" The next day there was to be another regatta given by
the city of Worcester, open to all comers. The Harvard
men had signified their willinfjness to try it afjain with us :
but we were not immediately of one mind, and did not jump
at the offer. Worthy as our rivals were, it was not pleasant
being beaten by them ; nor was the desperate work of a three-
mile race, at mid-day, in July, to be coveted for itself: yet it
gave us and Alma Mater one more chance, and that was not
lightly to be thrown away. Camp's counsel was unhesitat-
ing and spirited. He was for re-entering the lists from the
first instant it was proposed ; and so it came to pass, that we
THE RACE. 31
took heart of grace : and noon of the morrow found us a<xaln
on the lake, grasping our oars and waiting the signal.
" This time there was no boat against us but the ' Harvard.'
An accident early in the first race had disabled the representa-
tive of Brown, and she was withdrawn, not to appear again.
The same fair multitude, shining in bright summer attire,
was gathered to witnesss the scene. Signs of the previous
day's event were not wanting. On land and water, the
Harvard head was high, as was not unmeet ; but our fellows
among the crowd observed a modest demeanor, and we in
the boat were not disposed to vaunt ourselves. We hoped,
however, to make at least a closer affair of it than the other
was.
" Once more we were off with a mighty clamor from the
shore, each boat strugglluor for the lead. 'Yale' won it.
None but a boating man knows the glorious excitement —
excitement without wildness — that then leaped through our
arms into the oars. Henry Camp himself afterward said
that his first battle did not surpass it. Every thing went
well with us, and we reached the mile-and-a-half goal, four
good lengths ahead ; but the ' Harvard' made a splendid turn,
and we darted away on the home stretch, almost bow and
bow. The fortune of the day trembled in even balances :
less than ten minutes would decide it. ' Pull ! ' cried our
cockswain, as if for his life ; and we heard the Harvard stroke
inspiring his fellows with brave words. Then came the hot,
momentous work, — the literal agony. Those twelve men
will never forget it, though it is doubtful if any can or could
recall it in detail, minute by minute, short as it was. There
32 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
is an indistinctness about it in my memory at least ; and the
last half-mile is especially cloudy. It would not be easy to
describe it. Most accounts of boat-races, like that in ' Tom
Brown at Oxford,' are from the standpoint of a looker-on,
rather than an actor. The real tragedy is in the boat.
" The near neighborhood of the other contestant, not so
much seen as felt ; the occasional sidewise gleam of red
from the handkerchiefs the Harvard men wore about their
heads ; the burning exhortations of the cockswain, gradually
rising in pitch of intensity, and setting at last upon the for-
mula, ' Pull, if you die ! ' the pain of continued utmost exer-
tion ; the various mental phenomena, some of which were
strange enough ; and, as we neared the goal, the vociferous
greetings of the first little groups of spectators, — a vague
sound in the ears, we scarcely thought what it was, except
a sweet token of the end at hand ; then, a little further on,
the cry of the great multitude, neutralized as a distraction by
the cockswain's deepening passion ; the order to quicken the
stroke, the final ' Spur ! ' — all these remain indelible im-
pressions of that fragment of an hour in 1859 ; but, like the
impressions that survive a stormy dream, they are not
orderly or clear.
"I doubt if any one remembers the command to stop. For
a minute or two, there was utter collapse. Each bowed
upon his oar, with every sense suspended through exhaus-
tion : but, thanks to the training, one after another revived,
and sat upright, and blessed himself; for all knew, though
rather confusedly, that we had done well in entering that
race. To our looks of inquiry, the cockswain, whose thun-
THE VICTORY. 33
der-bolts had suddenly dissolved in sunshine, made this suffi-
cient reply, ' We've got 'em ! ' It had come at last ! Hurrah,
hurrah for Yale ! We wanted the voice of ten thousand
wherewith to vent our hearts, and the shore supplied it. We
looked around: the 'Harvard' was slowlv makinjr for the land.
To us it was permitted by custom to go before the specta-
tors, and receive their congratulations. As, with easy oar,
we pulled our proud boat along either border of the lake,
the applause that rose in a great wave to meet us was prob-
ably the sweetest taste of glory our lives will have af-
forded. In our young eyes, nothing could be more magnifi-
cent than our victory ; and it seemed like an old Olympic
triumph.
" When we landed, the Cambridge crew, though their phi-
losophy was much more grievously taxed than was ours the
day before, gave us honest hands, and made us handsome
speeches, to which we properly responded, or at least wished
we could. Altogether, they took defeat in such a manly
way, that we felt very anxious to refrain from all victorious
airs in their presence, and to conduct ourselves with the ut-
most magnanimity.
" The telegraph soon sent the news home to Alma Mater ^
and that night there was jubilee in New Haven ; but all of
us, save the cockswain, abode in Worcester till the next morn-
ing. Then the Harvard men went north, and the Yale men
south, and fair Quinsigamond was vacant of college keels for
another year. It was commencement day ; and, returning
crowned, we were welcomed under the elms in a manner
peculiar to collegians : but from that hour our close alliance
3
34 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
was broken. Two or three went down to put up the boat ;
but the six never sat together again.
" It is pleasant now to see, that through those youthful rival-
ries, useful as they were in themselves, God was raising up
strength for nobler work than we proposed or could imagine.
As Ave stretched away at our practice down the Bay, we never
thought of war, or battle, or the great service of liberty that
would soon call for thews of hardy men. Looking back to
those warm afternoons when we used to disembark for a
respite, and sit upon the ruined wall of old Fort Hale, and
wonder how it seemed In those early days when Yalensians
were called out from college halls to fight in the field, I
cannot realize that then and now are less than six years
apart.
" Strange things have happened since. The voice of the
cockswain has been heard at the head of his regiment on
many a bloody field. The stroke has followed the flag ever
since the fall of Sumter, and came very near death on the
Peninsula. The iron right arm of No. 2 is maimed for life
by a shot through the elbow. No. 5 will likewise carry to
his grave the weakness of a wound. But No. 3 fell, and lay
dead. Can it be ? can It be ? This Is strangest of all. Yet
it is not, perhaps, altogether strange that a sacrifice so fair
and so truly consecrated should prove acceptable to God, and
be consumed. There is comfort for our grief.
* Our Knights are dust ;
Their good swords rust;
Their souls are with the saints, we trust. ' "
Henry Camp thoroughly enjoyed college life. He did
COLLEGE AFFECTION. 35
not sever connection with old Yale at bis graduation,
in July, 1860. He loved always to tell of, and to think
over, his experiences there ; and he watched with hearty in-
terest the subsequent career of his classmates. Most
warmly he greeted any of these whom he encountered in
army service ; and, even while a captive within the enemy's
lines, be acknowledged an existing bond between himself
and each son of his Alma Mater. But a few months be-
fore his death, he remarked, that the only public sentiment
to which he was ever keenly sensitive was that of college.
His intense modesty prevented his ever dreaming how
highly he was esteemed, and how warmly he was beloved,
by his fellow-students.
The valedictorian of his class writes of him : —
" I had profound respect and admiration for him as a class-
mate. He was frank, wise, clear and pure minded, change-
less in friendship. We his classmates feel deeply the
diminution of mental and moral power suffered in his loss.
The sum total of the class is less by a vast amount. As a
positive power, as a man, as a friend, we esteemed him highly.
I almost envy you the task of delineating the character of one
so pure, noble, and manly. It is a priceless remembrance,
the friendship of such a man."
Says another classmate : —
" A character so noble, a life so pure, a heart so warm
with kind impulses, and a manner replete with the gentle
36 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
courtesies of fricudslilp, could not fail to win the love and
esteem of us all."
Yet another, who knew him well, adds : —
" I dare say he had faults ; but I never saw them. I know
of nothing in his life I would correct."
'O
As showing the power of his Christian example during
his college course, one who sat by his side in the chapel
and at recitation gives this narration : —
" On entering college, I was wholly without hope and with-
out God in the world. I was beyond the reach of any power
except the power of Jesus. I do not know whether I believed
the Bible or not. I did not hesitate to ridicule such parts
of it as my inclinations, urged on by such a state, prompted.
I could sit in a prayer-meeting in the revival of '58, when
nearly all my classmates were giving testimony of the power
of God to send hope and peace to despairing souls, wholly
unmoved. I could even smile at the emotions there ex-
pressed. Camp was my companion through college more than
any other member of the class. He was by my side at reci-
tation and in the chapel during the entire four years. I saw
in him a character and a life I had never seen before. By
his life I was forced to admit that his profession was per se no
libel on the Master in whose service he was.
" I do not recollect what part of our college life It was when
he first spoke to me on the subject of my soul's salvation. It
was not, however, till after his upright and godly life had
forced from me the most profound respect for him and the
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE. 37
Saviour to "wliom he prayed. He said very little ; but he said
enough to lead me to think over my past life, and to cast a
glance at the future. I shall never forget the impression
that first conversation had upon my mind. It was not so
much what he said, as the way he said it. He believed he
was setting forth God's truth, and spoke as if he knew it was
so. I believe that he knew it was true, though unable to ex-
plain how he became conscious of it. This I pondered, and
felt that he had evidences that had been withheld from
me. He spoke with me only a few times on this wise, but
every time with telHng efiect. I could not help thinking of
it ; and after we were parted, and I had lost his companion-
ship, I made his thoughts the companions of my lonely hours.
I began to love him more than ever, and with love for him
grew the love of the same Lord whom he loved and served.
The conflict to me was a severe one, and how I longed to
meet him, and converse with him !
"Passing through New Haven when first on his way to his
regiment, he left on my table a line to this effect : —
' Dear B. :
Sorry to have missed seeing you.
Good-by, God bless you !
Henry W. Camp.'
" I would have given a fortune to have seen him for an
hour ! I had not at that time revealed my feelings to any
one, and felt that he alone was fit to receive them. I wrote
to him, and his letters supplied in part the loss I felt. Not a
38 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
day since we parted, I venture to say, has he not been in
my mind. I cannot but feel tliat he was the instrument cho-
sen of God to unveil the darkness that shut out the liixht
from my soul. I fear that, had I never known him, I had
never known the love of God, nor welcomed the glad enjoy-
ment of a Christian experience."
His classmate Holden thus sums up the college estimate
of Camp : —
" Those who were members of the class which graduated
at Yale college, in the year 1860, can bear ample testimony
to that earnest Christian manhood, that sincere and faithful
performance of every duty, that quiet, simple, childlike asser-
tion of purity of mind, that magnanimity and generosity, and
that courtesy of manner, which made Henry Camp a hero at
every period and in every position of his life.
" The influence which he exerted in the class by this moral
force was most wonderful, and none the less so bcicause he
was totally unconscious of its existence. He wielded his scep-
tre without displaying it, and (except that he knew on general
principles that sincerity of purpose always asserts its preroo--
atives) without knowing that he held the sceptre. He was
not, at least until his senior year, what is called a ' popular '
man. While invariably and impulsively a gentleman, and
demonstratively kind in his demeanor toward every person
he had to do with, his intimacies were few. Not only were
his natural sensitiveness and retiring disposition an obstacle to
a free general acquaintance, but his intensity of feeling was
SCnOLABSHJP. 39
doubtless gratified by concentrating his friendship on a few
chosen companions. And yet without exertion, and by the
unpretending grandeur of his character, he won not only the
respect, but the profound love, of his classmates to an extent
of which he had no idea. His conscientiousness was never
intrusive. No one dreamed of his being a paragon, any
more than they dreamed of his being inconsistent, not with
his professions (for he never made any), but with his former
invariable practice. ' To know him once and under any cir-
cumstances,' says an intimate friend, ' was to know him
always ; for he was always the same.'
" He was not a pretentious scholar. His recitations were
not characterized by a flashing repetition of the text, per-
haps not always by a quick perception of the meaning, but
invariably by a quiet self-possession that was evidently
founded on a thorough, profound, and solid comprehension of
what he had been studying, whether It had been acquired
by an intuitive knowledge, or by close and energetic appli-
cation. Although occupying a fine position on the list of
honors, he mi"i;ht have stood much higher had he not deliber-
ately chosen partially to devote himself to other things which
he deemed equally useful. Books outside of the prescribed
course of study, chess, the gymnasium, and boating, occupied
a part of his time and attention. Into all these exercises he
threw that same earnest, hearty, untiring energy which he
gave to every thing else. Whether In laying his plans for an
inevitable check-mate upon his antagonist, or whether labor-
ing at his oar after the hope of ti'Iumph had vanished, he dis-
played the same Indomitable and persistent courage with
40 THE KXIGHTLY SOLDIER.
â– which he performed every act in life as soon as he had de-
termined that it was right in itself and a part of his duty.
Possessing a sj)Iendid, athletic body, he seemed as much in
earnest in developing it by physical exercises as in conning
Greek or obeying a college law, and awakened by his hearti-
ness the enthusiasm of those around him in gymnastic sports
or the contest of shell-boats.
" Prominent among his traits was his absolute, unqualified,
and unmistakable hatred of every thing mean. He could
be silent under an act of injustice, of injury, even of insult,
when he beheved it to be the result of thoughtlessness or ig-
norance ; but his detestation of meanness begotten of deliber-
ate malice or of littleness of soul was inexpressively withering.
* I never saw him angry on any other account,' writes a class-
mate who knew him well : ' but a mean act would make his
eyes flash fire ; and his words on such occasions, though few
were emphatic' He seemed almost to have belonged to an
order of Christian Knighthood whose mission might be to ex-
terminate dastardly and premeditated wickedness. Alas !
that his sword should have dropped so soon from his hand !
" His inflexible resolution always to act with a full under-
standing of his duty, preliminary to an equally inflexible de-
termination to perform it, cannot perhaps be better illustrated
than by his course relative to his acquiring the elective fran-
chise, which occurred while he was in college. He carefully
made the Constitution of the United States a subject of close
and reflective study, not merely as an intellectual exercise,
but for the purpose of becoming thoroughly acquainted with
the nature of the instrument to which he was about to swear
CHRISTIAN CHARACTEB. 41
allegiance. One or two of its provisions were the source of
protracted deliberation and discussion, until, in fact, his
doubts were removed.
" Of his Christian character in college, little can be said that
is not true of it in every situation. His modesty did not ob-
scure it ; but it did prevent any ostentatious display of it. A
college friend on terms of closest intimacy writes as follows :
' Those who saAV his heart in this respect will cherish the rev-
elations made to them as something sacred. I know one
who was brought to Christ, who, had it not been for him,
for his Christian character as revealed in his conversation,
and for the sincerity and whole-heartedness of his trust in
Christ, would not, as far as I can see, have ever been a
Christian. Others I know who were influenced by him,
whom he did not know or dream of, — whom he knows
" Undoubtedly there is a cloud of witnesses to the sublimity
of that faith, and the simplicity of that piety, which made
their lasting impression upon otherwise heedless souls. To
those acquainted with or superficially knowing Henry Camp,
this sketch may seem only a fulsome panegyric ; but it is
true (and it can be said of very few men) that no word of
praise could be erased without doing him injustice. Indeed,
words are worth very little to those who knew him thoroughly.
They may perhaps suggest tender memories that will come
thronging back, laden with renewed love and respect for
him who commanded by his intrinsic worth so much of affec-
tion and so much of reverence.
" ' No man despised his youth ; ' for he was ' an example of
42 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the believers in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit,
in faith, in purity.'
" The poet of his class, in his valedictory poem, described, as
beautifully as he did correctly, such a character as Camp's,
in the following verses : —
" Living' well is not mere living"
In the cultured taste of schools :
'Tis not in the knack of business,
Or the hoarded gold of fools ;
But an earnest life's deep passion
Beating in a kingly heart,
With the gentle grace of goodness
Glorifying every part."
" If ever there was ' a voice from the tomb sweeter than song,
and a recollection of the dead to which we turn, even from
the charms of the living,' it is when such Christian bravery
as his achieves its crowning victory over the grave, and when
the homage we pay to his intellectual nobility is sanctified
by the blessed memory of those virtues which are ' the native
growth of noble mind.' "
<^^m^ '-
CHAPTER III.
TEACHER, LAW STUDENT, SOLDIEE.
N September, after leaving college, Camp took
charge of the high school at East Hartford, and
remained as its principal about six months. He
became warmly attached to some who were his pupils there ;
but teaching was tame business to him, especially in the
stirring times then opening before the nation.
Accepting the responsibilities of the elective franchise
after his careful study of the Constitution, he cast his first
vote, in the spring of 1860, for good Governor Bucking-
ham. In the Presidential election of the November fol-
lowing, he voted for Abraham Lincoln. Of the possible
consequences of this vote he was not unmindful, yet he
had no hesitation in casting it. Doing what he believed to
be right, he was never anxious as to the result. He did
not desire war. Brought up in the strictest nonresistaiit
school, he was emphatically a lover of peace. Of gentle,
retii'ing nature, he shrunk instinctively from unpleasant
collision with any. He never quarrelled. Up to this
time he had never lifted a hand in anger, or even struck
43
44 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
a blow in self-defense. He was ready to yield whatever
was properly at his disposal, for the good of others, or for
the sake of harmony. But, though never obstinate, he was
ever firm. He could not concede an iota of principle. It
seemed an impossibility for him to swerve a hair, on any
inducement, from the path of duty as he saw it. Nothing
but a clear change of conviction ever changed a position
which he assumed on a moral question. War or no war,
he would vote and act as he believed to be rio-ht.
In the early spring of 1861, a letter received from a
resident of the South, formerly his playfellow and school-
mate, while it grieved him by its unprovoked harshness of
spirit, aroused his sense of manliness by its contemptuous
flinQ:s at Northerners, and its defiant threats of resistance
to Federal rule. He replied to the letter in calm dignity,
avoiding every issue but the simple one of duty to a Gov-
ernment whose beneficent rule its bitterest opposers could
not gainsay, while he held to account for all consequences
those who arrayed themselves against just authority. In
concluding, he said : —
" Should you resist, as you threaten, upon your heads,
and yours alone, will rest the fearful responsibility of com-
mencing a civil war. We have planted ourselves upon
the foundation of the Constitution and the laws : from it,
we shall neither advance to aggression, nor retreat one
hair's breadth in concession. Conscious that we have done
all in our power for the maintenance of peace and harmo-
A LAW STUDENT. 45
ny, loth to encounter in arms those whom we have been
wont to greet as brothers, we shall yet meet unflinchingly
whatever issue may be forced upon us, urged on, not by
impulse or passion, but by a solemn sense of the duty which
we owe to our country. Nor will the men of New Eng-
land, sons of those who fought at Bunker Hill and Sara-
toga, who defended for the South the soil which her Tories
would not and her patriots could not defend for them-
selves, be found wanting in the hour of trial. Side by side
with the brave men of the West, we will stand to the last
for the Union, the Constitution, and the Laws, — and may
God defend the right ! "
After leaving his charge in East Hartford, Camp com-
menced the study of law in the office of John Hooker, Eeq.,
reporter of the Supreme Court of Connecticut. What capa-
bilities he showed in the pursuit of this science, his appreci-
ative instructor states in a letter at the close of this volume.
The opening of the war found him thus engaged ; and,
during the first seven months of its progress, he remained
a law student, — yet by no means contentedly.
Had he followed his impulses, he would have sprung
forward at the first call of the President for troops ; for he
was already prepared for the issue, and he was never a
laggard in duty. But there were considerations that held
him back for a time. Those whose judgment he had ever
deferred to, and whom above all others he loved to please,
while as warmly patriotic as himself, were so imbued with
46 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
tlic gentle spirit of Christian charity, of love to all, that
they could not, at first, see the justification of war, even
under any pressure of wrong from others. They were un-
wiHino; that the son of their hearts should be euo;ao;ed in a
work of blood, not because he might lose his own life, but
lest he should take the life of others.
If the need of men to defend the Government, had, at
that tune, been greater, the issue might have been raised,
in Camp's mind, between filial and patriotic obligations ;
but just then more men were offering themselves than
could be accepted, and it was rather as a privilege than
a duty that any entered the army. Hence, Henry Camp
denied himself, and stayed at home ; and no sacrifice which
he ever made cost him more, or was more purely an act
of generous self-abnegation, than to sit down in ease at
the North durins; the earlier months of the nation's strus;-
gle for life. But, although at home, he was making ready
for the service in which he was yet to bear a part. Join-
ing in April the Hartford City Guard, a fine organization
of citizen soldiery, he acquired proficiency in the details of
drill and company movements, while making army tactics
more or less his study, Sept. 5, 18G1, he accompa-
nied, as a member of the City Guard, doing escort duty,
the remains of Gen. Lyon to their resting-place in East-
ford ; and the impressions of that occasion only added fer-
vor to his strong desire to have a part in the contest in
which the hero, then buried, had fallen.
ENTERS SERVICE. 47
His opportunity came at length. In November, a com-
mission was tendered him in the 10th A^olunteer Regiment
of Connecticut infantry, then at the Annapohs rendezvous
of Gen. Burnside's Coast Division. The proffered posi-
tion was unsought and unexpected. The call to it en-
abled him to urge anew upon his parents the claims of
country on his personal service, and the fresh indication
of his duty furnished by this seeming providential sum-
mons. While the subject was under deliberatfon, he
prayerfully sought God's counsel, and earnestly searched
the Scriptures, as often before, for direction as to the path
of right. The consent of his parents was obtained. The
way was then clear before him. He signified his readiness
to accept an appointment, and received a commission as
second lieutenant, dated December 5, 1861. He was
commissioned by Gov. Bucliingham on the nomination of
Col. Charles L. Russell, the gallant and experienced com-
mander of the 10th, whose desire of increasing the num-
ber of good officers in the regiment induced him to seek
the best material from without to take the place of that
sifted out in the process of organization.
Camp entered joyfully upon his new sphere of action.
Those who saw and heard him at the Asylum Hill Sabbath
school, where he was a faithful and beloved teacher, on the
Sabbath before his departure for the army, will not soon
forget the impressions of that occasion. Just before the
close of the session, the superintendent called the attention
48 TUE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
of the school to the fact, that another of its valued teachers
was to leave for the army in the course of the week, and
added, that it would be gratifying to all to listen to his
parting words. Thus called upon. Camp rose at his seat,
in a far corner of the room, and, modestly declining to step
forward to a more prominent place, said in substance, in
his quiet, unassuming, yet dignified and impressive man-
ner, "My friends, I have no farewell speech to make to-
day, nor would it be becoming in me to attempt one. I
am only one more going out to the war, as many, who will
be more missed than I shall be, have gone before. Why
should this call for special notice? Although I love my
home, and love this old school, I can not say that I am sorry
I am going away. I can not even say that I leave you all
because I deem it my duty to go. I rejoice rather, that,
at length, I am to have the part I have longed for, but
which has been denied me until now, in defending my Gov-
ernment and in serving my country. I go because I want
to go; and I give God thanks for the privilege of going."
And it was thus that Henry Camp went to war.
Hastening to Annapolis, he joined his regiment, and en-
tered on the performance of a soldier's duty, and the study
of his new profession. He was among strangers, and in a
strange work. Few men ever left a pleasanter home, or
more entirely changed their associates, habits, and sur-
roundings on joining the army, than did Henry Camp. It
was impossible that he should feel entirely at ease, and
AmiY PRAYER-MEETING. 49
have no yearnings for the delights he had left behind.
Yet he did not repent his decision. Writing home on his
fii'st sabbath evening in camp, he said, —
" I have just been to a prayer-meeting, and it really
seems good, after such a busy, working week. I shall
prize these services, and, I think, enjoy them a great deal
better than I did at home. They are held nearly every
evening ; but our officers' school interferes with my attend-
ing them, except on Sunday. To-night, a great fire was
built at the foot of one of the company streets, and we
gathered around it, standing, of course. There are several
Greenwich men here, who have come to see how their boys
are getting along, — men who have already done a great
deal, and are ready to do more ; and one of them spoke
very earnestly. Chaplain Hall said a few words : the
rest consisted about equally of prayers and singing.
"The only trouble about these meetings is, that they seem
so homelike and pleasant, that I believe a few more would
make me homesick. I suspect I should be very soon, if
every day was Sunday, and I had leisure to write to you,
and think about you : yet I have no doubt that it is a Jmn-
dred times better for me to be here ; and I cm very glad
that I came. I enjoy the idea that I am really at work,
thougli I can't tell yet how much my work will accomplish :
something, I beheve, for myself, if for nobody else."
Then, in full appreciation of the novelties and incongru-
ities of life in camp, he added : —
4
50 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER^
" There are all sorts of things going on here at once.
Anybody that can't suit himself somewhere must be hard
to suit. Prayer-meetings at one end of an avenue ; a
group swearing till they make every thing blue, at the other ;
one set singing, ' Down in Alabam ; ' another, hymns ;
some reading in their tents ; some chasing each other round,
or wrestling ; bands playing or drums beating some-
where almost all the time ; sentinels calling for the cor-
poral of the guard, and passing the word along the lines ;
a little, or rather a good deal, of every thing, — it isn't
much like a home Sunday, unless you happen to get into
the right spot, and then it is."
He had not been Ions; in the reo-iment, before he learned
that a prejudice existed against himself, and the newly
appointed officers who came with him from Connecticut,
because they were commissioned from without, and now
filled places aspired to by non-commissioned officers, who
were in the regiment at its organization. The discovery of
this fact gave Camp scarcely any annoyance. He merely
mentions it incidentally in a home letter. It does not seem
to have caused him an hour's discomfort. He had not
sought the commission : it had been tendered him by those
who had the right to give it, and who, being competent
judges, and having the interests of the regiment at heart,
had thought it best to secure his services. He had come,
not to obtain popularity or advancement, but to serve his
country, and perform the duties of his sphere. What
SAILS FOR HATTER AS. 51
others thought of hira, while his conscience was clear, was
not a point about which he was anxious. With all his
modesty, he had the intuitive consciousness that time would
right him as it did most gloriously. Meantime he moved
on in the calm dignity of his nobleness, respected ever by
all, — as well by those who envied him, and had jealousy of
his position, as by those who admii-ed him and were always
glad he had entered the regiment.
The 10th was in the brigade of Gen. John G. Foster,
which included also the 23d, 24th, 25th, and 27th Massa-
chusetts regiments, — all New-England troops of the very
choicest material. The time passed at Annapolis was every
hour improved in the perfecting of drill and discipline,
and in other preparations for the somewhat delayed move
of the expedition.
In a home letter, Camp sent, as a Christmas token of affec-
tion, a good sketch, in pencil, of his regimental camp at An-
napolis ; an engraving from which is on the opposite page.
About the first of January, 1862, orders were received
for the embarkation of the troops of the expedition ; but a
delay of several days occurred ere all was ready, and the
fleet left Annapolis. Eight companies of the 10th were
on the steamer " New Brunswick." Two companies, I
and B, were on the schooner " E. W. Farrington."
Lieut. Camp was of Co. I. The fleet rendezvoused at
Fort Monroe, thence sailed for Hatteras. On his first
sabbath at sea, Camp wrote : —
52 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER^
" It hasn't seemed much like sabbath to me. Every
thing on shipboard must of course go on as usual, and read-
ing tlie ' Independent ' is almost the only thing that reminds
me of home, — by association I mean : there is plenty to
do it by contrast. How little I thought a few sabbaths
ago, that I should be on the Atlantic to-day, bound for
Hatteras, in a little schooner full of soldiers on their way
to the battlefield, — and I one of them ! tJiafs the stran-
gest of it ! I can't realize it yet any better than I could at
first. I have to stop once in a while, and take a good look
at myself, — and that doesn't do much toward it either ;
and then go back to the time I left home, and think it all
over from the beginning, before I can be quite sure that
this fellow here isn't somebody else, and that / am not
back in Hartford, studying law and teaching Sunday
school, and living a good-for-nothing lazy life of it gener-
ally."
He lived no "good-for-nothing lazy life" in army ser-
vice. Wliile on the transport, his opportunities to exert
himself for others were as few as they could be anywhere ;
yet even there he proved how ready he was to do his utmost
in his sjihere. Stormy weather delayed the progress of the
fleet. Some of the vessels drew more water than had been
agreed upon, and could not pass the shoal across Hatteras
Inlet, known as the " Swash." Weeks instead of days
went by before all were fairly inside. The quarters of the
men were cramped, close, and uncleanly. The drinking
PURE EXAMPLE. 53
water had all been put in filthy casks. Commissary stores
were of the poorest kind. Army contractors had proved a
curse to the entire expedition. The health and the spirits
of officers and men suffered greatly. Drill was out of the
question. Discipline could be but partial, at the best.
Everything tended to laxness and demoralization.
Under these circumstances, the pure example of Lieut.
Camp was most effective for good. A brother officer tells
of sitting by a table with him, in the saloon of the " New
Bmnswick," one evening, playing chess, when an officer
near them indulged in impure language. Camp, he says,
fairly blushed like a maiden ; and then, as the same style
of remark was repeated, he rose from his seat, saying,
** Let us find another place, the air is very foul here."
Another officer, who was his companion on the " Farring-
ton," says, that during all those weeks of wearisomeness,
with the entire lack of home restraints, with the stern temp-
tation to idle talk, and with the example of so many in
coarseness or profanity, no one ever heard Camp utter a
single word that might not properly have been spoken in
his parlor before his mother and sisters.
Before he had been many days on shipboard, he had an
opportunity of proving conspicuously his courage and gal-
lantry. The steamer "City of New York ' ' was wrecked just
outside the bar, after the " Farrington " had passed within.
The captain of the schooner determined to attempt the res-
cue of those on the wreck by putting off in his yawl in the
54 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
severe storm then raging. Lieut. Camp proposed to ac-
company him ; but the old skipper " disdained him, for he
was but a youth, and ruddy, and of a fair countenance."
"You! " he cried in a contemptuous tone, "why, you
couldn't handle one of those big oars ! " On Camp's assur-
ing him that he had had some experience in rowing, and
thought he could get along, the captain hesitatingly accept-
ed his services, taking an extra man in the boat in view of
the lieutenant's probable failure.
The storm was fearful. The little boat which put off
for the wreck was a mere play tiling in the boiling surge,
tossed hither and thither by the lashing waves and the
driving gale, shipping more than one sea that seemed sure
to swamp it, and being kept on its way only by the stout-
est hearts, the strongest arms, and the steadiest nerves.
The attempt to reach the steamer proved vain. Human
strength was helpless against the combined power of the
enrao-ed elements. One after another of the boat's crew
gave up in despair, until only a single sailor remained with
Lieut. Camp, self-possessed and undaunted. The order
was given to return to the transport. When again on his
own dock, the captain, whose distrust of the fair-faced
young officer had given place to admiration for the brave-
hearted, unflinching, skilful oarsman, declared, that
" Lieut. Camp was game, and the pluckiest fellow he ever
saw : if he had had a boat's crew like him he could have
gone through to the wreck." Others who watched the scene
COURAGE.
55
were equally impressed in the lieutenant's favor. Said
one, "Lieut. Camp would never have given the word to
turn back, for fear was no part of his composition." The
story of this exploit was often repeated in his praise among
the men of his company and throughout the regiment.
CHAPTER IV.
ROANOKE AND NEWBERNE.
T lengtli there was a break in the long storm.
The vessels of the fleet were either over the
*' Swash," or their troops and freight were trans-
ferred to other craft. Early in February, there was an
advance up Pamlico Sound toward Roanoke Island.
" It was something of a sight," wrote Camp, " to see so
many vessels under headway at once ; gunboats leading
oS, steamers and sailing vessels in tow of them, following
on in a procession some four or five miles long, while little
tugs and fast propellers dodged about among them in all
directions. Gen. Burnside passed us soon after we started,
standing on the hurricane-deck of a small steamer, and
compelled to keep his head uncovered half the time in ac-
knowledgment of the cheers which went up from every
vessel as he came opposite. He and Foster are both of
them magnificent-looking men, tall, of commanding pres-
ence, and generally quite the article one reads of."
Of his personal feelings on the approach of the battle,
Camp wrote, the evening before the landing : —
*' I can't realize that I am to have my first experience
66
READY FOR BATTLE. 57
of battle to-morrow, — perhaps my last ; not fully, at
least. I believe that something so entirely out of the range
of all one's previous experience needs to be once seen be-
fore it can be brought by any effort fairly into the scope
of thought. I suppose that is one reason why it affects
me so little. I expected to be at least somewhat excited
beforehand ; but I have been ten times more so the evening
before a boat-race. I shall sleep to-night like a top, and
don't believe I shall dream about it. I wish I could feel
so when the time comes. I shall be excited enough then,
I'll venture. If I can keep cool enough to behave myself,
it's all I expect."
His farewell letter written on that night of eventful an-
ticipation, to be delivered to his home friends in case of his
fall, was touchingly beautiful, so full of tenderness for those
whom he addressed, so firm in its assurance of satisfaction
with his lot in such a cause, so clear in its expression of
faith in Jesus as his sufficient Saviour. It was never for-
warded, but destroyed by him long after, when it had been
read to the friend in whom he, later, confided so fully.
In the afternoon of February 7 th, the troops landed on
E-oanoke Island under cover of the gunboats' fire. There
was a dismal night in a pitiless storm, without shelter for
the poor men, who were as yet nnused to the exposures of
active campaigning. The following morning was the day
of battle. To his disappointment and regret. Camp was
prevented sharing in all the excitements of the contest by
58 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
being ordered to tbe landing on special duty, just as his
regiment was taking position on the field. His hurried
letter of the following day told the story briefly : —
"I suppose you will hear of the fight, and be anxious.
I am safe and well, — wasii't in the action, I'm sorry to
say ; not through any fault of mine, though. Just before
our regiment was ordered to the front, I was sent, by Gen-
eral Foster's orders, on detached service. Ammunition was
needed; and I was directed to take a steamer, get 140,000
rounds from a vessel that lay two or three miles oflf shore,
and use my discretion as to the means of bringing it for-
ward as rapidly as possible. I used all speed ; but the
aflfair was over before I could rejoin the regiment. It was
a hard fight, and a splendid victory. If I only could have
been there ! To think that the regiment has been in such
a glorious affair, and I have no part in it ! It was hai-d
to be the one sent away."
In a subsequent letter, he described vividly the advance
of his regiment to the battle, and the incidents of the
opening fight. Although not actually under fire, he passed
through all the tedious preliminaries of the action, which
every old soldier knows constitute the most trying, even
if not the most perilous, part of such an engagement.
It was of the early morning of February 8th, that he
wrote : —
" The men fell in promptly and coolly, and stood
awaiting orders, — eating their breakfasts, many of them,
THE ADVANCE. 59
in the mean time. The reoiments on the ri^ht of the
brigade took up the march first, the others following in
brigade order (we came third), marching in column, four
abreast, along a narrow road with dense underbrush on
either side ; making it very difficult for the skii'mishers on
the flanks to advance, and furnishing every advantage
for an enterprising enemy to annoy us. They didn't,
however.
" As we advanced, we could hear the frequent reports
of muskets, and the occasional crack of a rifle, sounding
some half a mile ahead. It was evident that the sknmishers
were at it. Not far beyond the brook, we passed the 21st
Mass., who had been at the outposts during the night, —
some in line along the roadside, some around fires a little
farther in the woods, — a fine-looking set of fellows, who
exchanged jokes and gi-eetings with us as we went by.
The farther we went, the sharper the firing became ; and
soon we had to make way for four men who came carrying
a litter, heavy, with a blanket thrown over what lay upon
it. Men looked at each other, and grew sober. Presently
a couple more came with one between them : no wound
was visible ; but he was ghastly pale, and could scarcely
walk with their support. Then we came upon another,
lying quite still by the roadside ; he had been brought s?
far and left, the wounded needed attention more than he.
There was no blood, or almost none, upon any of them.
I looked to see the wounds, and wondered that thero
60 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
seemed to be none, until I remembered that gimsbot
injuries seldom cause any flow of blood which would soak
through the clothing. Another passed, with one on each
side to help him : he groaned heavily; and his left arm,
what there was of it, hung in rags from its bloody stump :
it had been shattered by the premature discharge of one
of our own field-pieces.
" These things are so different to see and to read about,
it strikes one like a new idea to have the sight actually
before his eyes, just as if he hadn't expected that very
thing. I can't exactly describe the sensation it gave me.
I sha'n't pretend to say that I wasn't at all affected by it ;
indeed, of all the men whom I have heard speak about it
since the time, there was only one who did pretend so, —
he may, perhaps, have told the truth.
"Our march was obstructed by water and thickets;
sometimes we halted to allow those behind to come up,
then started off at double-quick to gain lost distance.
The discharge of cannon and musketry grew constantly
louder and more frequent, until there was an almost
uninterrupted rattle, evidently quite near, but more
apparently to the left than in front. At length we halted,
and the men rested for a few moments to give the regiment
before us time to get into position before we advanced to
ours. The wounded were being brought by at short
intervals, and we had nothing to do but watch them as
they passed.
THE SURRENDER. 61
" It was curious to notice tbe different effect which the
first true idea of what battle is produced on different men.
I looked at various faces. Some were perfectly natural ;
a few bright; a large majority exceedingly sober; more
than one a little pale. I was wondering whether I looked
pale, when Major Pettibone came up and ordered me to
the head of the column to tell Colonel Russell that the
general's orders were to advance. I delivered the message,
and received for reply that General Foster was himself
there and in command. So I reported to the major, and
took my place again."
It was just then that Lieutenant Camp was ordered
back for the ammunition. The task assigned him was a
tedious one ; and when it was at length accomplished, his
regiment, having changed position, was not easily found
by him. Although he strained every nerve to be speedily
ao-ain at the front, it was evenino- before he was once more
with his command.
"Late in the afternoon," he continued, "after I had
given up all hopes of rejoining the regiment in season to
take any part in the action. General Foster, with a couple
of his aides, came riding along. He stopped and told us
the news himself. 'They have surrendered! — 2,000
prisoners ! They asked what terms I would give them :
I said an unconditional surrender, and they accepted ! '
The men didn't give him time to finish. Up went the
caps, and up went the cheers, and up went the men
62 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
bodily ; their loads didn't weigh a feather. He inquired
about the ammunition, and passed on."
The part of the Tenth in the engagement had been
prominent and honorable, and its losses severe. Gallant
Colonel Kussell had been killed early in the action. Other
brave officers and good men had given the testimony of
blood to their patriotism. To one who had so longed for
the privilege of an active part in the nation's life-struggle
as Henry Camp, the disappointment of being separated
from his regiment, at the decisive hour of such a contest,
was bitter and enduring. The thrilling narrative of the
excitements and perils of the day, to which he listened
with profoundest interest by the bivouac fire on the stormy
night succeeding, and every repetition of its noteworthy
incidents, from brother-officers, on subsequent occasions,
only intensified his regret, and deepened his sense of per-
sonal loss.
" The more I think of my own absence," he wrote a
few days later, "the more it provokes me. Not that I,
or any one else, feel as if I was at all to blame for it ; but
it has drawn a sort of line between me and all the rest.
They shared the danger, and, of course, share the exultation
of the battle. I can only rejoice as I would over any other
victory. They have all been tested, and stood the test.
I am still untried. They, in short, arc the victors in one
of the most glorious battles — perhaps the very most so —
that have yet been fought. I had nothing to do with it :
NOT IN THE BATTLE. 63
even my wretched ammunition wasn't needed or used.
It's very doubtful whether our regiment has another
chance. Even if there is another fie;ht at Newberne, the
second brigade will probably claim and receive the advance.
At the best, I shall always be one behind the rest, — have
one less deed to remember and be proud of.
" I don't Hke to think of all my friends who know that
the Tenth Connecticut distinguished itself, inquiring where
I was, and what I was about ; and what will provoke me
most of all will be the attempt I know some of them will
make to persuade me they think it was just as well, all
the same thing, and all that humbug. Any thing but that !
If the war should come to an end, as I suppose I ought
to hope it will, without my having been in battle, I shall
never want to show my face again at home ; not that I
shall have any thing to be ashamed of, but that I sha'n't
have any thing else. There's enough of grumbling ! — it's
babyish, and does no good : but that's just the way I
feel about it; and now that I've cried my cry out, I'll
stop."
The troops remained but a few days on shore at Roanoke
Island. Re-embarking, they made several demonstrations
up Pamlico Sound; but the advance to Newberne was
delayed until the following month. During the weeks of
waiting on shipboard, before and after the first landing,
Camp's home letters were full and varied, showing him in
his true light as the man of cheerfulness, of honor, of
64 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIEIi.
courage, of patriotism, of purity, of poetry, and of Chris-
tian faith.
" I have just been hearing," he wrote, " part of a letter
from the 'New -York Times,' about this expedition,
written at Hatteras ; very accurate in its statements ; but
I really hadn't realized before what a hard time we have
had of it. It sounds quite formidable, all boiled down
and concentrated into the space of one newspaper column ;
but taken in small doses, as we have had it, at considera-
ble intervals, it hasn't seemed to amount to so much.
We have concluded, since reading it, to set up for martyrs :
the idea hadn't occurred to us before.
" These things are not half as hard as they sound ; they
are just what we anticipate, and go prepared for ; very
diflferent fi"om what they would be to one fresh from home,
without the hardening process which we have already
undergone in camp."
It was thus that he souoht to encourao;e his friends at
home as to his personal trials and privations on the close,
cramped, and filthy transport. If he mentioned these at
all, it was in a burlesque strain that hardly made an appeal
for pitying sympathy. Thus from the " Swash : " —
"The poor fellows down in the hold would be glad
to stretch their legs ashore, I know. They are terribly
crowded. They are packed so close at night, that, when
they have lain long enough on one side, somebody sings
out, ' Haixl-a-lee,' and over they all go together, just as we
ON THE TB AN SPORT. 65
used to hoist the signal, ' Leg over,' in the recitation-room
at college, and astonish the tutors with a simultaneous
whisk from one side to the other. This is a little more
practical.
..." All our water is brought from Baltimore : it
costs seven cents a gallon, delivered at Annapolis. It
isn't first-rate, though the barrel we are now on answers
well enough. The flavor depends on what the barrel held
before. This was a whiskey barrel : those we have had —
kerosene and turpentine — were not so good. . . .
" I'll venture to say that there's no spot in the United
States where there are more men, boys, negroes, and
cockroaches, to the square foot, than in the cabin of the
* E. W. Farrington.' The first three I'm used to, — can
stand being crowded by them ; but this having cockroaches
bold a door when one tries to open it, and pull his blankets
off from him at night, is something new. We have held
our own pretty well ; but they are gradually getting the
upper hand of us : infantry are no match for them, and we
talk of getting a few artillerymen, with their guns, from
Fort Hatteras. I thought of putting a few specimens into
the box of curiosities I .send home, makino; a reonilar
infernal machine of it ; but, reflecting that you have no
arms but the old Revolutionary sword, concluded to wait."
Of the national situation just then, before the brilliant
victories on the Western waters had re-assured confidence in
the Federal cause, and while enemies at the North were
5
66 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
co-operating with enemies beyond tbc seas to give encour-
agement and aid to treason and to traitors, he spoke with
firmness and courage.
" Things abroad do look pretty dark for us, don't they?
if foreign newspapers at all reflect the feelings of their
governments. It is a hard fight now : European interven-
tion would make it well-nigh desperate. I Jiope that our
Government will stand firm at all hazards, and that the
North will sustain such a policy until the last dollar is
gone, the last village burned to the ground, and the last
able-bodied man has fallen on the battle-field ; but I'm
afraid they haven't the resolution and the self-denial to
hold out to the end. I am afraid that dano;er and disaster
will develop cowardice, as they always do, and we shall
be left to the fate we shall then deserve. I haven't really
looked upon such a thing as possible, hitherto : it need not
be now, if the nation will only put forth its strength ; but
will it? That's the question. I don't see how any man,
who can do any thing, can be inactive now, when every
day of his life is worth a century."
Referring to the advance of the troops up Roanoke
Island after the battle, and their visits to the camps and
homes of the enemy, he gave expression to his refined
sense of honor as a truly chivalrous soldier.
' ' Besides many other articles taken from the field or
from houses, a number of letters were found, curious
specimens enough, some of them, in point both of manner
POETIC MUSINGS. 67
and matter, — on all subjects, from love to slioe-pegs.
I was almost ashamed of myself for listening while some
of them were being read. I don't know what title a
victory gives one to pry into other men's private matters
in this way, those at least of a domestic or social natm'e ;
and it really seems too bad. This letter business strikes
me as a very different thing from the transfer of ordinary
property, according to the rule which every one recognizes,
that to the victors belong the spoils."
Surely a college-mate esteemed him rightly who wrote,
on hearing of his death, " I can conceive nothing knightlier
than Henry Camp, the soldier. All the graces of valor,
loyalty, and generosity must have sat upon him, and made
him the very flower of our heroic youth. Great-Heart is
the name that became him. Like Bunyan's knight, he
has overcome, and passed on and up before us to the
better country."
A few nights before the battle of Newberne, he wrote : —
" It has been a beautiful day, and the fleet was a fine
sight, at noon, as it stretched in long line from east to
west, moving steadily, and with a look of poioer that was
magnificent. No land in sight, except a few blue lines at
intervals along the horizon ; and again at sunset, when the
sun, which had been for some hours clouded, came out
and lit the whole scene most gorgeously. I climbed the
shrouds, and stayed aloft until it began to grow dark. It
isn't often, in an ordinary lifetime, that one sees a sight
68 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
better worth looking at than that was. It's very true that
soldiering isn't all poetry, according to some ; but neither
is it all prose, according to others.
" I wish I was good at description. I'd like to paint
you a scene occasionally, so that you could see it as you
can Scott's or Longfellow's. And that /, of all men, who
have never pictured to myself, even in imagination, any
but the most commonplace, dog- trot sort of a life, should
be in the midst of what seems to me, even now, more like
romance than fact, — I can't realize it more than half the
time."
It was after such an evening of poetic musing that he
wrote the following lines, — as stately and as gi-aceful as
Lis own manly form, and as warm as his own loving heart.
They shortly after appeared anonymously in the ' ' Hartford
Evening Press : " —
BETWEEN ROANOKE AND NEWBERNE.
The swift-winged Northern breezes are blowing fair and free :
I pace by night the spray-wet deck, and watch the rushing sea;
The whistling of the shrill-voiced wind is full of speech to me :
It stretches taut the swelling sail, it crests the wave with foam :
I drink its bracing frashness ; it is the breath of home.
From hoary monarch mountains, whose giant cliffs, piled high,
Lift up their snow-crowned foreheads against the clear, cold sky, —
From forests dark with shadow, where pine and cedar fling
Music and fragrance mingled upon the zephyr's wing, —
From leaping white-maned torrents, that thunder on their way,
Cleaving a path of madness through splintered granite gray, —
A NIGHT BIVOUAC. 69
From every hill and valley, — from every rock and tree, —
New England sends a deep-drawn breath, far o'er the Southern sea.
Slowly the anxious hours passed on in dark suspense
With breathing hushed to silence, and nerve and heartstring tense:
Now swells from heaving bosom the sigh of deep relief,
Too sad for shout of triumph, too proud for sob of grief, —
The banners of our victory wave o'er a fallen chief. *
Yet welcome, at whatever price, the Nation's leap to life:
Eather than deathly stupor, hail to the deadly strife !
From East to West, the solid tramp of armies shakes the ground;
The vibrant clang of ringing steel fills all the air with sound;
The sword, so long uplifted, sweeps down in sudden wrath:
Eight through the hosts of treason, it hews its crimson path.
Before its edge of terror, shrinks back the rebel foe.
As leaves that curl before the breath of Etna's fiery flow;
Again is bared the red right arm another blow to smite ;
Already blaze the signals that tell of coming fight, —
To-morrow's sun shall set in blood, — Amen ! — God speed the right !
On the loth of March, the troops landed at Slocum's
Creek, about fifteen miles below Newberne, and marched
some ten miles in a drenching rain toward the city.
There was another night of bivouac in a pelting storm, as
at Koanoke, to the sore discomfort of all.
"I stood before the fire," wrote Camp, cheerfully, of
that night, " until I was tolerably dry ; took my blankets,
which the india-rubber had kept in good order, for a seat ;
* Colonel Russell of the Tenth.
70 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
leaned my back against a stack of rifles, and slept three
or four hours quite comfortably. I believe, with a little
practice, I could sleep standing on one foot or on my head :
it's all habit, and I'm cjuite getting over the foolish preju-
dice in favor of lying down, — especially on any thing soft."
An early start was made on the morning of the 14th,
and an advance toward the enemy's intrenched position.
It was not long before Camp had the desired opportunity
to test himself in battle.
"I was afraid," he wrote, "we shouldn't reach the
front before the affair was over ; but very soon the order
came to turn aside from the road, and march through the
fields to a position further to the left. We took an oblique
direction, and hadn't gone a hundred rods when a loud,
swift whiz went through the air, soundhig as if some one
had torn a thousand yards of canvas from one end to the
other at a single pull. Almost everybody involuntarily
looked up (I did), as if we could have seen it pass,
when it was far beyond us when the sound first struck our
ears. Some stooped, — one or two crouching close to the
earth, and hardly ready to rise until they wore sharply
started. A few yards further, and there was another, —
this time apparently passing but a little above our heads ;
then another, and still more ; some further, and some
nearer, — every one causing more or less dodging, and an
occasional irregularity in the ranks, promptly checked, as
far as possible, by the ofiicers. We passed obliquely into
FIGHTING. 71
the woods, and were ordered to lie down just behind the
crest of a slightly inclining slo}De. The men were behaving
well enough ; but they didn't wait to hear the order twice.
I never saw a crowd drop c[uite so suddenly as they did.
As we lay on the marshy ground, bullets flew thick ; some
seeming to pass only two or three feet over us : one entered
the ground just at the elbow of one of the men. Occasion-
ally there would be none heard for some little time, then a
perfect shower would hiss along, with a sharp ' thud ' now
and then as one struck a tree close by. Grape rattled
tkrough once or twice, generally passing high ; though I
saw the water dashed up by it, from a pool a little to the
right. We had been in this position perhaps twenty or
thirty minutes, when an order came for us to march to the
front, and open fire immediately. ' Now,' said I, ' it's
coming : in about three minutes we shall see who's who,
and what's what.' The fire of the enemy, at this time,
seemed to be directed elsewhere. We advanced to the
edge of the woods, formed line of battle, and prepared to
fii^e, without, I think, their having observed us at all.
" We knew that, as soon as we discovered our situation
by firing, we should be answered ; but, in the mean time,
we had opportunity to form and dress the line without
disturbance. It had scarcely l^een done, when our right
opened fire ; and it passed rapidly down the line toward us.
The men were, for the moment, wild with excitement, and
waited for no orders, but raised their pieces and fired, —
72 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
half of them without takinc; aim. I checked those who
were near me. But soon the order was given, and at it
they went again, — loading and fii-ing just as rapidly as
they could handle their pieces.
' ' We could see the puflfs of smoke rise from the breast-
works in front of us, and once or twice a momentary slack-
ening of our own volleys allowed us to hear the whistle
of bullets. It didn't need that to make the reports of
artillery, and roar of solid shot through the ah", audible ;
but it was some little time before I saw any effects of their
reply to us. I had been moving from one to another,
rectifying the aim of some who fired high, and seeing to it,
that they understood what they were about, when I saw a
man who had been lying on the ground a few yards to the
left, roll suddenly over. I turned toward him ; but some
one was already supporting his head, as the blood gushed
over his face from a hideous wound : a bullet had entered
his eye, and lodged in the lower part of his head. Several
of the men gathered around ; but I sent them back to their
places, and they went without a word. Most of them
behaved excellently throughout, listening to orders, and
obeying them promptly, after the wild excitement of the
first few rounds was over.
*' We were still firing rapidly, when cheering rose loud
in front ; and, in a moment more, our flag appeared, waving
from the parapet of the breastwork. They cheered on
the right, and they cheered on the left, and they cheered
UNDER FIBE. 73
before us, and we cheered ; and had hardly finished
cheering when the order came to resume our march.
The battle was over, and we had only to take possession
of Newbcrne."
Camp had passed bravely the ordeal of battle. So cool
was he, seemingly unmoved when the fight was hottest,
and those about him most excited, that the men of his
company called him their Iron Man, and told how efficient
he was, in directing the fire of some, in giving assistance
to others whose pieces were out of order, and in speaking
encouraging words to all, ever with ' ' the same pleasant
look in his face."
" As to my own feelings," he said, in his home letter,
*'I can't describe them anymore than I could when I
tried before. They were much the same, only less in
degree, as when we were marching into action at Roanoke.
I was thoroughly excited internally, and every nerve was
tense ; but I can't accuse myself of any tendency to avoid
the danger I felt, or even of dodging bullets, as I have
heard that most men involuntarily do when they are first
under fire. This excitement of nerves continued until the
action fairly commenced, and then seemed to wear off
rapidly, until, after we had been engaged a few minutes.
I felt as cool, and, I thought then, as natural as ever. It
couldn't have been natural though ; for I have been shocked
since to think how little I cared for the poor fellows that
were wounded. The reason, I suppose, that the danger
74 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
ceased to affect me was, tbat I had something more impor-
tant to occupy ray mind. I thought of it, of course, but
was too busy to pay any attention to it."
Id another letter, describing the battle to his fi-iend
Owen, he said , —
" The sensation of coming under fire is, to me, very
much like that I used to feel in boat-racing, — exceedingly
nervous business waiting for the signal to give way, but
comfortable enough as soon as there is an opportunity to
work off the surplus excitement. How a bayonet charge
or a repulse of cavalry might seem, I can not tell ; but
there has been nothing in such work as has fallen to us
hitherto, more exciting than there was for the oarsmen in
one of our grand boat-races between Harvard and Yale."
The bridge across the Trent being burned by the rebels,
there was a delay of some hours in transporting the troops
of Foster's brigade, on gunboats, to the city bank of the
river. Late in the afternoon, the 10th marched through
the streets of Newberne to the old Fair Grounds, and,
taking possession of the just deserted camp of the Thirty-
third North-Carolina Regiment, made ready for a night of
rest. Not many officers would speak as cheerfully of a
detail for guard-duty, under such circumstances, as did
Lieutenant Camp when called upon that evening.
"I was too tired," ho said, "to spend much time
looking about me, — was reflecting how nicely I should
feel inside my blankets in about five minutes (it was now
KINDIfESS TO SOLDIEBS. 75
two or three hours after dark) , and had just pulled off my
boots for the first time since I left the vessel, when the
adjutant came in. 'You'll have to put them on again,'
said he. ' You are detailed, with thirty men from your
company, to do provost guard-duty. Can you stand it 'i '
It was rather tough after two such days ; but I was less
tued than most of the rest. I find that my endurance is
greater than that of men who consider themselves tough.
My old training stands me in good stead, and especially
my habits of walking. I haven't yet been so tired by any
march as not to feel equal to ten miles more, though I
mightn't have been anxious to carry my overcoat and
equipments along. But the men, — I really hated to call
out some of them, poor fellows, hardly able to drag one
foot after the other."
This considerate regard for the men who were under
him, showed itself in all his home-letters, and also — to
those who knew him well — in his conversation and actions.
His quiet, undemonstrative ways prevented its being fully
understood by all. His calm dignity of demeanor was not
unfrequently deemed an indication of coldness or hauteur.
Never a greater mistake. His heart was far warmer, and
his feelings kindlier, than could be judged from his modest
reticence and his shrinking reserve of manner.
At Newberne there was a long season of comparative
quiet. As the spring months passed away, Camp grew
restive.
76 THE KNIGHTLY mLDIEE.
" Save me," he wrote, " from a summer in Newberne,
or any other one place. Our life, except when in active
service, is mere machine-work, at best; endurable, even
enjoyable, by way of preparation for something better, but,
as a 'regular beverage,' altogether insipid and flat. Our
wits grow rusty in this tread-mill business, — that's the
worst of it. I was beginning a while ago [on the transport]
to fear that the result of our campaigning would be in
having more brains softened from within than perforated
from without."
Yet Newberne life was not without its activities. Picket-
ing in the face of the enemy was something new to the
soldiers of the Tenth ; and there was an occasional alarm
or skirmish on the outer lines, that gave zest to the service.
Of the first march to the picket front, Camp wrote : —
*' All the nef>;ro huts in the outskirts sent out larsje
delegations to the gates to watch us go by, evidently
enjoying the sight hugely. One old woman stood in her
doorway, beaming upon us most graciously, and addressing
us as we came opposite, ' I hopes you is all well, genlin,'
getting a volley of answers from our men."
It was on one of the earlier tours of picket-duty, that
Camp's coolness and courage stood out prominently in an
emergency. Another lieutenant had taken out a scouting-
party of a dozen men, beyond the lines, to obtain informa-
tion, and, if possible, to pick up a prisoner or two ; having
been told by the negroes that small squads of the enemy
A PICKET ALARM. 77
sometimes came clown to within a short distance of the
Union position. While this party was out, Captain Otis
and Lieutenant Camp were eating dinner in a cabin near
the picket-reserve, "when suddenly," as Camp described
it, " while we were enjoying our hoe-cake and bacon, two
or three of the negi'oes in the cabin exclaimed in a low
tone, ' De Southerners comin' ! de Southerners comin' ! '
"We seized our swords, which we had laid aside so as to eat
with more comfort, and stepped to the door just as one of
the cavalrymen dismounted from a horse, panting and
covered with sweat. * Every one of your men,' said he,
* is killed or taken prisoner ! ' A glance showed that he
did not refer, as one would naturally tliink, to our reserve
across the way ; and we knew he must be speaking of the
scouting-party. ' The affiiir had taken place, he said, a few
minutes before, at a distance of two or three miles. The
enemy were still advancing, — a large force of cavalry.
He and two others had put their horses to speed, and
escaped; but all those on foot, and one or two of the
mounted men, were either shot or taken. By this time,
the other two came in sight, their horses on the full run.
I half expected to see the rebels on their heels; but
they drew rein, and came up to report. Their story was
less alarming than that of the fii-st, — who was, I think,
the most frightened fellow I ever saw. They said our
men had been surprised by a party of cavalry, and had
taken to the woods. They had seen none killed or taken,
78 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
tboiigh several volleys were fired, — couldn't be sure, how-
ever, being bard pressed themselves, and only saved by
the speed of then* horses and the poor ami of the enemy.
We saw tliat we ourselves were in no danger ; and the
reserve, which had been called to arms, was dismissed. '*
It was no slight evidence of character, for a young
lieutenant, inexperienced in border warfare, to rise at
once above the influences of a picket alarm, at that stage
of the war, and propose to go out, in the face of the enemy,
to the rescue of his endangered comrades. Lieutenant
Camp's impulse prompted him to an instant suggestion of
this kind.
" I thought," he wrote, " that a party ought to be sent
out immediately to find our men, who were probably in
the woods, not daring to retake the road until they were
certain that the enemy had retired. Captain Otis finally
said, that, if the men chose to volunteer, he wouldn't
object."
Volunteers beins: called for, eio-ht men of the Tenth
came promptly forward. Besides these, four of the horse-
men — artillerymen acting as cavalry — were induced to
go along as advance skirmishers ; and Camp started at
once on his scout. His cavalry did not please him.
" Their fajling, certainly, wasn't lack of vigilance. They
walked their horses, with revolvers drawn, and one eye
cocked over the shoulder, ready to run. My men,"
he added, with pride in the brave fellows, "would have
HOME THOUGHTS. 79
marched straight upon Goldsborough, if I had only asked
them to." The enterprise was entirely successful. The
scattered party were found, a few at a time, until there
was but one missing and unaccounted for. "As there
then was no more than time to go back before sunset, it
seemed unwise to wait any longer; and we returned, having
at length accomplished what we went out for. It was dark
when we reached the reserve ; and they had begun to grow
anxious about us, having expected us back hours before.
The other man came in the next morning, having spent
the night in the woods. The whole thing ended much
better than any of us anticipated."
In the full and free sketches of such exploits as this, in
his home-letters, never a boastful word is found of his own
performance, although praise is given heartily to all who
were with him, and did well. His modesty equaled his
courao;e and his nobleness.
Each new call upon his energies seemed to give Camp
fresh satisfaction in his work. "I am contented now,"
he wrote, "for the first time in three years. It doesn't
seem as if the old fret ever need come back, — perhaps it
will." Then, as showing that his heart was in no degree
weaned from the loved ones at home, he added, " I never
realized before, as I do now, the difference between a dear
old New-England home and the rest of the world. I lono;
to see you all, — you know how, — but not enough to wish
to leave unfinished that which we came to do. I want to
80 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
see a workmanlike job made of it, — no botch-work.
I want to help put in the last touches, and then won't we
all be glad to come back ? You know how I felt about it
when I left home : I feel just so now. I have always
been glad that I came, and think, whether I return or not,
that I always shall be."
In response to the suggestion from home, that he ought
to be satisfied with going into danger when he was ordered
there, he wrote : —
"As to volunteering, its being my duty simply to
obey orders, &c., — I am sure, when you think of it, that
you would have me do as much, not as little, as possible.
I certainly won't run any unnecessary risks, — risks which
it is not necessary that somebody should run ; but, when
there is work to be done, I want to do it. That, you
know, was the idea with which I started, and the more
opportunity I have to carry it into practice, the more I
shall feel as though I were accomplishing my object. If
men are sent where they should not be, the more need
they have of officers to lead them through with as little
loss as possible, and neutralize a blunder, if it is a blunder,
by all the means which can be used. For my own sake,
as well as for yours, — and that I may accomplish the more,
— I intend to be prudent, and do nothing fool-hardy, or
that my calm judgment doesn't approve. What it does,
I know you would not have me avoid."
Henry Camp wished to live to a purpose, and if he
IMPATIENCE AT INACTION. 81
must die, to die to a purpose. His desire was to be where
he could aceomphsh most for the cause that had his heart.
He did not seek his own advancement. He did not crave
a place of danger. But he was never content, except at
the post of duty; and he longed for that to be just where
his every blow would be most effective for the rio-ht.
Referring to unimportant scouts from Newberne, and to
trifling engagements on the picket-line, he said, —
" There would be no satisfaction at all in being shot or
captured in one of these miserable little skirmishes where
neither side could possibly gain any thing worth a single
life, — a very different thing from falhng in battle."
Ao;ain he wrote : —
"I should like to have a share in the grand blows of
the Army of the East. Our out-of-the-way performances,
down here, don't seem to amount to much by themselves ;
and yet we've had sharp work, — it's no exaggeration to
say so. The list of casualities looks small alongside of
what you read of in the great battles of the West ; yet,
when you come to compare the numbers engaged, we lost
as many in four hours at Newberne as they did in two days
at Pittsburg Landing, or in three at Fort Donelson, — as
large a percentage, I mean, of course."
Later, when the Peninsular campaign was at its hight,
he wrote in the same strain : —
" We groan in spnit at having to stay here idle while
the fight at Richmond is so fierce, every man needed, —
6
82 THE ENIGHTLY SOLDIER.
every man there worth a hundred elsewhere. Nothing
else that the war can bring forth will furnish cause for so
proud a satisfaction as to have thrown one's weight into
the scale while the balance yet trembled. What is left to
do will be boy's play in comparison, — as has been all
before on this side the Alleo-hanies. When the race is
won, there's nothing like feeling that you pulled a good
oar on the home stretch." Then, as showino- his real
interest in hard service, he added, "I don't want to fight
for the sake of fighting, but for the sake of accomplishing
something that will tell upon the grand result." For that
grand result, he was ready to toil or to suffer, or willing,
if need be, to wait. "I have chosen," he said, "the
sphere in which I think I can work most efiiciently for
God and my country; and, if we have thirty-years' war
instead of three, I expect to see it through, — or as much
of it as comes in my lifetime."
CHAPTER Y.
CAINIP LIFE AND CAMPAIGNING.
OME of Camp's experiences with the liberated
slaves in Newberne were recounted by him in
an interesting manner : —
'' Did I tell you," he wrote home, ''about the family
of fugitives that came in while we were out on picket ?
I was on duty at the time. One of the men called
me, saying that some one wished to pass our lines. I
came to the post where they had been stopped, and there
were two negro women with a swarm of little things, — one
or two in their arms ; one or two, hardly big enough to
walk, carrying others. They had come five miles that
night; their masters intended to send them up country
the next day ; they had got wind of it, and seized the only
chance of escape. I asked how many children they had.
'She have four head, and I four.' (So m^in j head, —
that's the way these darkies talk.) I don't see how they
could have done it; little barefooted toddlers! — some of
them, trotting along in their nightgowns as if they had
just come out of a warm bed, instead of having tramped
83
84 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
five miles in the cold and dark ; but there wasn't one of
them whimpering, or making the least fuss about it, —
poor little things ! I didn't keep them long with questions,
— passed them, of course; but advised them, now that
they were safe within our lines, to spend the rest of the
night in a deserted house near by, and so they did. Their
mistress, a widow of strong secesh sympathies, came into
town next day. ' She wanted to see General Foster.'
I don't know what was the object or result of the inter-
view ; but I think it safe to say, she didn't get back the
runaways."
Another of his stories concerning this class of people
was published at the time in the "Hartford Press," and
copied widely : —
" I was in a negro house yesterday, and had some con-
versation with the inmates. I asked one gray-headed old
negress if she had ever had children sold away from her.
' Sold ! dey all sold ! chil'en an' grau'chiFen an' great
gran'chil'en, — dey sell ebry one ! ' She clasped her bony
hands over her head, and looked up at me as she spoke,
* Dere was one — de lass one — de on'y gran'chile I did
hab lef. He neber knowed his mammy. I took him
when he dat little. I bringed him up to massa, an' I say,
" Massa, dis my little gran'chile : may I keep him 'bout
heah ? " An' he say, " I don' care what you do wid him."
So I take him ; he dat little. Den one mornin', when he
all rolled up in blanket 'tween my knees, Massa Green
SLAVERY. 85
com'cl in, an' say, " Dis boy sold; " and dey take him ''way!
Lord Jesus, help me pray ! '
" I can't begin to do justice to the way in which she
told me this, nor describe the earnestness of voice and
gesture, which made it impressive. I wish some of our
Northern editors, who cringe just as abjectly as ever
before their old masters, and howl in such consternation
whenever it seems likely that the war may interfere,
directly or indirectly, with their pet deviltry, — I wish
some of them could have heard and seen her.
" I made fui'ther inquiries about the old woman's grand"
child. He is now, it seems, somewhere near Ealeigh.
She seemed wonderfully comforted when I told her that
we meant to go up there by and by, and I hoped we
should find him. She seemed to take it in the light of a
promise ; and I heard her, just before I went out, saying
to herself, ' Bress de Lord ! — bress de Lord ! I shall
see my gran'chile again ! ' Poor old creature ! I hope
she won't be disappointed."
Then, as expressive of his own views of the " pet
deviltry " of the South, he added : —
"It canH he but that this war will kill slavery; and
if it does, cost what it will of our blood, and your tears,
and every man's money, it won't be too much. Don't
you think so ? I hnoiu you do. Not that I've changed
my ideas as to the ultimate object of the war ; but I
am more firmly convinced than ever that the destruc-
86 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
tion of slavery is one of the means indispensable to the
end.'^
His "ideas as to the ultimate ohject of the war" were
fully set forth on a later occasion. He longed and hoped
and prayed for the end of slavery. He fought for govern-
ment as a divinely ordained power. His sympathies were
with the cause of universal freedom. His work of war was
for the maintenance of law and order. " Work," he said,
* ' which I am as sure that God approves as I am sure that
he designs to have order and law prevail throughout the
universe over chaos and anarchy.
" What on earth have I said to give you the idea that
I am fighting, not for the Government, but the abolition
of slavery ? Exactly the reverse. It is the maintenance
of the Government that I consider the object, and the only
object of the war; abolition, one of the means, but no
more. I think as ill of slavery as you do : I believe,
with you, that it is the cause of the Kebellion, and that it
must be crushed wherever rebellion exists; but I fight
for the preservation of the republic, not for the abolition
of slavery, because I consider the former the nobler and
more important object, — the object for which the latter is
but a means. Strike at the root, you say. Yes ; but why?
Because the poisonous growth is killing that which it is my
highest aim to keep alive and flourishing. It is not always
the cause of an evil that must be made the great object
of an attack in remedying its effects.
PRINCIPLES OF ACTION. , 87
" Government is the human embodiment of law, and
law is the central idea of the universe. ' Liberty for
ever and for all,' is a taking watchword; and a thousand
will catch it up as the expression of their highest aim,
where one will adopt the far higher and nobler one of
universal law. Among free moral agents, perfect liberty
involves inevitable abuse, incalculable sin and suffering.
Perfect law would be the acquiescence of all in God's
plans, — the unquestioned supremacy of his will. Of the
two abstractions, therefore, I choose the latter ; and, when
they become embodied in material forms for which a man
can fight, I will fight for the republic — which is the
concrete expression, however imperfect, of the higher —
rather than for the emancipation of four million negroes,
which is the corresponding outgrowth of the lower.
" As to the soundness or unsoundness of the Adminis-
tration, my action is independent of it. Government and
the ideas behind it, — the nation and its republican institu-
tions, — are what I fight for, not Abraham Lincoln or his
advisers. There's nobody that I dislike more than a young
old fogy. I don't think I'm in any danger of being gen-
erally so considered ; but, if public opinion does run wild,
I shan't try to keep up with it. It will settle back again
by and by. We shall see whether I am behind it ten
years from now."
Writing, after one of the many changes of camp at New-
berne, of the absolute necessity of one's looking out for
88 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
himself in army life, especially at a time of breaking camp,
or otherwise changing quarters, Camp said, jocosely, " The
only way to get what belongs to you, down here, is to tahe
it, and put in a claim to half your neighbor's property
to balance what he demands of yours. When everybody
is at hand to do then' own fighting and stealing, the system
works very fairly : nobody suffers, unless it is some
modest, honest greenhorn, who deserves it for not learning,
when he is at the South, to do as the Southerners do; but,
when two or three are absent, the rest of the rogues make
short work with their share of the plunder." In pleasant
irony, he added, in comment on the grasping spirit he had
seen displayed, "But it takes time to learn to steal as
well as to acquire any other useful art, — especially when
one's early education has been neglected. Can't you find
somebody like Fagin to apprentice Charley to ? You've
no idea how much it will be worth to him if we happen to
get into war with England or France by and by, when he
is old enough to have a finger and thumb in the pie."
It was during the spring and summer in Newberne, that
Camp wrote most of those letters to his college classmate,
which are referred to, in the earlier pages of this volume,
as being so richly blessed to their recipient. There is,
perhaps, nothing remaining of his writings, more clearly
expressive of his religious views and convictions than the
subjoined extracts from those letters : —
"I am glad to hear from you, which is the next best
RELIGIOUS COUNSEL. 89
thing to seeing you," he wrote, in his first of the series,
" and still more glad to hear that your interest in religious
subjects still continues. You know I never could say
what I wanted to say. I am afraid I shall find it even
more difiicult to write what I want to write. I am rejoiced
that you find yourself making progress, — that you have
conquered the theoretical difficulties which formerly
troubled you; and yet, I can not but fear, from what
you say, that you have paused before still more seri-
ous obstacles. As far as intellectual conviction of the
tnith and excellence of Christianity goes, a man can carry
himself, — though I think I can see the hand of God
leading you, unconsciously, perhaps, to yourself, even there ;
but, beyond that, comes a barrier which can not be passed
without one's earnest call for, and acceptance of, help from
above, voluntarily sought, and freely given.
"I think I know exactly what you mean when you
say you have not interest enough in the matter to pray.
I used to feel the same. I do still, far oftener than I
ought, or wish to ; but there are other times when I wonder
at myself, when I seem to realize, in some faint degree,
the real and infinite importance of these things, and when
it seems to me strange that I can take any interest, com-
paratively, in other matters. I wish I knew how to present
the motives to a Christian life as they appear to me then.
Passing by, for the present, those of reward and punish-
ment, considered merely as such, let us look for a moment
90 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
at another, — one which has often struck me with great
force, and must, I think, have weight with a mind consti-
tuted like your own.
" We are just at the commencement of a hfe with which
this one compares only as time compares with eternity;
whose interests are to those of the present as the infinite
to the finite. Admitting the truth of the Christian religion,
its hearty and thorough acceptance is the only preparation
we can now make for this future ; and the entrance upon a
real Christian life is the entrance upon the first stage of
progress toward all that is worthy to be made an end to a
reasoning and immortal being, —all, in short, that is worthy
of a man. It is at this point that we must, at some time,
start, if we are ever to take up earnestly the pursuit of the
highest good, if we are ever to enter upon the life of truest
manliness. Until we have reached this, we are living to
no real purpose ; we have not commenced the work which
is to be the work of our existence. Is it worth while to
live for any thing less ? Are not our energies, in effect,
wasted, unless we devote them, not only to that which is
noble and excellent, but to that which is noblest and most
excellent ? And is not every day lost until we begin to act
up to this belief?
" Surely there is no ideal which one can set before him-
self higher than that of a life whose mainspring is duty, —
with all that seems hard and cold in that word softened
and warmed by a love that turns trial and difficulty into
RELIGIOUS COUNSEL. 91
joy : the same feeling which makes pleasant a service
rendered to a dear earthly friend intensified, as is fitting,
toward him who has done and suffered more for us than
we can ever comprehend, until we see him face to face
and know hira even as we are known. Is there not some-
thins; in this to rouse an earnest man to viwrous effort ?
something worth striving for with the whole soul ? Then,
why wait for feeling ? It will not come at the bidding of
the will. Why not enter at once upon the course which
understanding and conscience approve ? Why not obey
them in this, as you would in any thing else ?
" Just here comes a difficulty . He who resolves to do
this just as he may have resolved to carry out former pur-
poses, — by the force of his own determination, relying
upon that and that alone, — inevitably fails. He may live
a moral life, a philanthropic life, one which gains for him the
highest respect and esteem of his fellow-men ; but when he
comes to compare it with the strict requirements of God's
law, he finds the standard too high, hopelessly beyond his
reach, though he spends life in the efforts to attain it.
The longer he tries in this way, the lower he falls. There
is nothine; left but an utter abandonment of trust in one's
own exertions, and a simjole leaning on Christ for his
support, his aid in living a life of obedience to his will,
and his pardon for all its thousand imperfections. He
stands ready ; only ' knock, and it shall be opened unto
you.'
92 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
" I thiuk you strike the key-note of your difficulties,
when you say, ' I have hitherto rehed solely upon myself.'
That is what keeps you at a stand-still, the effort ' to solve
the problem ' for yourself. It is hard to give it up, —
hard to bend one's pride to the acknowledgment of weak-
ness and dependence. The way is narrow; but unless
we become as little children in our humility, there is no
entrance for us into the kingdom of heaven. So far from
being really a degradation, it is the highest test of true
nobility of soul, that it should be willing to take the place
which God created it for, — the highest privilege to come
into harmony with his great system, to enjoy his direct and
conscious personal influence, to feel the joy of his approval.
*'I am afraid I have preached you more of a sermon
than you will care to read ; but I have spoken plainly and
earnestly, because it is to a dear friend. How I should
rejoice to know that you had at length found what you
have sought and your friends have sought for you ! It is
now some years that I have remembered you in my
prayers ; with such encouragement, I certainly shall not
now forget you : but do pray for yourself. Don't fall
into the mistake of thinking that you must wait for a cer-
tain degree o^ feeling. If you feel that you need God's
help, and are willing to ask for it, that is enough. He is
more willing to give than you to receive, if you will only
be persuaded to prove for yourself the truth of all these
things."
RELIGIOUS COUNSEL. 93
Again Camp wrote: "It is encouraging to know that
you feel a growth in your moral nature, come in what shape
it will ; but I can not judge from what you say whether you
have reached, or are still on this side of, the point which
must be passed before any radical and permanent change
for the better can fairly commence. One may stroll
for ever on the ground outside the narrow gate, — receding
or advancing, — even till his hand is upon the latch ; but,
until he enters, his journey along the true path is yet to
begin.
"I want to believe that your decision has been made,
not merely to experiment a while, but, relying upon
God's help, to make your life henceforth no longer your
own, but his. Then, however feeble your faith, it will
increase ; however slowly you move, it will be in the right
direction. Love, as you say, will grow with time and the
experience of God's goodness ; culture will produce its
effects. I do hope that it is so with you ; and that the
doubts and misgivings of which you speak will vanish
with the steady increase of light in your soul. But don't
think, though you should remain stationary, or even go
backward, that you have proved whether there is ' any
thing in it.' Be sure that the difficulty is in yourself, and
that it is as impossible that God should refuse to hear and
help one who comes to him in sincerity and humility, as
that he should cease to exist. The universe shall sink
into annihilation before his word shall fail."
94 THE KJVIGHTLY SOLDIER.
When, at length, came a letter giving full assurance of
faith, on the part of the one in whom he had been so deeply
interested. Camp replied : —
" So you have finally entered upon a Christian life.
You do not know, my dear fellow, how glad I am to hear
it, both on your own account, and my own, if I have
been, in any degree, of assistance to you. You will
know, I hope, some time, when one for whom you have
so sincere a friendship takes the same step which you have
taken, — one which I am sure you will rejoice in, more
and more, the longer you live."
It is noteworthy evidence of his rarest humility and
modesty, that Camp, in writing to his home of the coming
to Christ of this friend whom he had been leadins; with
such fidelity and prayerfulness, mentions several who
might have had an influence for good over his classmate,
without saying a word of his own agency in the matter ;
but the record is on high, and all the world shall know it,
*' when the dead, small and great, stand before God, and
the books are opened."
Exposure, on guard and picket, to the malarial atmos-
phere of the North Carolina nights brought Camp down
with chills and fever during the summer months; and
again an attack of jaundice confined liim in the hospital.
His sole anxiety seems then to have been lest he should
miss some active service with his regiment, or disturb his
friends at home by fears as to his condition. "I went
I2i THE HOSPITAL. 95
clown to the hospital," he wrote, " partly to consult Dr.
Douglass, and partly to see if they had any cherries left,
— no more idea of staying there than of cutting up any
other foolish caper; but once there, and they had me.
Dr. Douglass said stay, and stay it was. So I am luxu-
riating again on a mattress, between cotton sheets. I tell
you about my playing sick, because I suppose I must, to
fulfil literally my part of our compact ; but you mustn't
suppose there is any thing to speak of the matter with me,
because there isn't."
His stay in hospital was, however, for several weeks,
and the confinement was ii-ksome to him. "It is quiet
enough, up at camp," he said ; " but you know that, there,
there are drills, though you may not go out to them ; and
there are forty little things to discuss, — whether the
colonel was exactly right in the order he gave, and whose
fault this or that blunder was, and how this or that little
matter of company business is to be settled. Here it is,
' How do you feel this morning ? ' ' Anybody die last
night ? ' ' Doctor been around yet ? ' And after he has,
and prescribed the dose for the day, that is about all, until
nio;ht, when bedtime comes."
Speaking of reported orders for a move of the regiment,
he added, " Wouldn't I be provoked to have to stay here,
and have them leave me? It would be worse than
Roanoke." To his bitter sorrow, the orders came; and
the surgeon positively forbade his accompanying the expe-
96 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
clition, telling him be could not go five miles before he
would have to be brought back. In his disappointment,
he said, " Here I have been impatient to get away, and do
something, fretting at long idleness, ready for a start any
day until now; and now the time comes, the move is made,
and I am fast. If I was really sick, down with a fever,
laid up with a broken leg, or any thing of that sort, there
would be some satisfaction in it : I should know I was
helpless, and make up my mind to it. But to be tied
down by this miserable little bilious difficulty, — to be
upset by such a thing as this, — I feel like some gTcat
lubber who has been thrashed by a youngster half his size,
and sneaks off into a corner to hide himself. It s more of
a disappointment to me than you will probably imagine."
But the orders for his regiment were countermanded.
General Burnside left for the Army of the Potomac, taking
with him Generals Bake and Beno, and their commands,
constituting the newly-formed Ninth Army Corps; while
General Foster remained in command of the district of
North Carolina, retaining his old brigade, with some addi-
tions to it. In the re-organization of the troops, the Tenth
was brigaded with the 24th Massachusetts, the 9th New
Jersey, and the 5th Bhode Island regiments, under gallant
Colonel (afterwards General) Stevenson, of the 24th
Massachusetts.
In one of Camp's letters from the hospital is a para-
graph worthy of special note in this jMemoir, prepared by
FRIENDSHIPS. 97
one subsequently intimate with bim, but not bis army
comrade until some months later. " I have been readins:
Captain Vickars's Life this afternoon, for the first time.
He was the right man in the right place, — just such a one
as one or two whom I know could be, and only one or
two. Memoirs like his, and others of his stamp, don't
affect me as they ought to. Such men are too far out of
common sight : I am wretchedly uncomfortable when I
read of them, — that is all. I wish I could get hold of a
life of some fellow like myself, if there ever was one, —
which I honestly don't believe, — and see how he turned
out. But no, — catch any such memoir as that being
given to the public !
'' One of the chief, perhaps the chief, privations of
being away from home, is the having no intimate friend,
— no one with whom to talk freely; being shut up within
one's self. There are few who would allow themselves to
be so, but you know I have no social qualities about me.
I am very particular : there are only one or two in a
hundred whom I would have for friends anyhow, and those
one or two I haven't the faculty of gaining ; and the result
is that I am as solitary as the sphynx. How I should
enjoy the right fellow for a chum ! " Why this connection
of thought ? Did he know instinctively, that, if he had an
intimate friend who should outlive him, that friend would
give his memoir to the public ?
In July, 1862, Camp was advanced to a first lieutenancy,
7
98 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
and put in command of Company D, which he gready
improved by his firm and judicious discipline, during tlie
few weeks he had charge of it, August 5, he was pro-
moted to the adjutancy of the regiment ; a position more
congenial to his tastes and acquirements than that of sub-
altern in the line. His first experience with a consolidated
report will be appreciated by any one who has had the
responsibility of such a mass of perplexing figures : —
" I finished a copy of the consolidated monthly return,
— the principal one, — Tuesday afternoon, and carried it
down to headquarters, immensely rejoiced to have it done
with. About an hour afterward, up came an orderly to
my tent, ' Adjutant Camp's report is respGctfully returned
for correction.' I was thunderstruck, to speak moderately.
Hadn't I added those figures lengthwise and crosswise,
vertically, horizontally, diagonally, spherically, and miscel-
laneously ? — got 'em at length so that it would have done
old Daboll o-ood to look over the columns ? I thouoht so :
but, come to examine the work again, there were two mis-
takes for Avhich the serjeant-raajor, at whose dictation I had
copied, was responsible, and one of my own. It didn't
take fifteen minutes to straighten them out ; but I was
vexed to think that my first performance should have
been a lioo-o-je. However, it did me o;ood to find out
that the adjutants of the 25th and 27th, both old hands
at the business, had blundered in theirs too ; so I wasn't
alone, I don't intend to be caught again, though."
CHAPLAIN TRUjIBULL. 90
A week after Camp was appointed atljutant, Chaplain
Hall — his friend and college classmate — resigned, and
left the regiment. It was thus that Camp wrote home of
Hall's successor : —
"I wonder if you know, by this time, whom we are
probably going to have as chaplain. If you don't, you'll
be very glad to hear it, though you'd never guess in the
world, — Henry Clay Trumbull. I can't think of any
man I ever knew, whom I should be so well pleased to
have accept it. . . . I am selfish about it, too : the chap-
lain and I, both being members of the staff, will see a great
deal of each other, and be thrown much together."
Chaplain Trumbull, whose coming was so pleasantly
anticipated by Adjutant Camp, reached the regiment early
in October. The two comrades, ordinary friends before,
were speedily drawn into closest intimacy. Away from
home, they craved personal sympathy. Their tastes were
similar. Their characters were sufficiently unlike to be in
harmony. The training of each was such that he possessed
what the other deemed his lack. One had a finely cultured,
richly stored mind ; the other a fund of personal experience.
The opinions of the one were all formed from the study of
underlying principles ; the judgments of the other were
based upon practical observations. Their regimental duties
kept them near each other. Their home friends being side
by side, they were linked in every interest.
It was after a sacred communion service in the Presby-
100 THE KNIGHTLY SOLBIEB.
terian Churcli at Newbcrne, at wbicli Adjutant Camp was
the only officer present with the chaplain from their regi-
ment, that, in a midnight talk, they opened their hearts
to each other, and entered upon that life of peculiar oneness
which was so marked to all who, thenceforward, saw them
together. Like Jonathan and David, when they "had
made an end of speaking," at that time, "the soul of
the one was knit with the soul of the other." They
"made a covenant, because each loved the other as his
own soul."
During the month of October, 1862, General Foster
was largely reinforced by nine-months' regiments from
Massachusetts. Of these, the 44th was added to Colonel
Stevenson's brigade, and soon became a favorite with
the old troops of the command. It was composed of
choice material, including many students from Harvard.
Pleasant acquaintances were made among the officers and
men of the newly associated battalions.
October 30th, Stevenson's brigade left Newberne on
transports for Little Washington, the 10th accompany-
ing General Foster, on his own boat, the "Pilot Boy."
At the same time, a column moved overland to Wash-
ington, whence an expedition set out for Tarborough on
Sunday morning, November 2, the 10th leading, for
the day, the intlmtry advance. Before night had foirly
shut in, the enemy was found posted in the woods, just
beyond a troublesome ford at Little Creek, a short distance
IN ACTION. 101
below Williamston, opeuing fire on tlie approaching
skirmishers of the 10th. The latter, reinforced by a
portion of the 44th, charged across the stream, and
drove out the rebels, capturing several prisoners of the
26th North Carolina Regiment, of which Governor Yance
was the first colonel.
This was the first engagement in which Camp had acted
as adjutant, and thus been brought into prominence before
all the regiment. His courao-eous bearino; won warm
praise from the men, as, by the side of brave Colonel
Pettibone, he pressed forward in the charge over the
crock, through the shower of bullets and the sweep of
grape from the foe of unknown strength in the thiclcet
beyond. "I never knew what Adjutant Camp was until
that night," said a sergeant, long afterward. " I saw his
face was pale, as if he understood the danger" (the soldier
knows the difference between the bloodless cheek of deter-
mination antl the pallor of cowardice); "and he looked
just as if he tvas i^eachj to go anywhere, as he ran along
on that log foot-bridge, and cheered on the men, while they
splashed through the water, with the bullets all about
them. I always liked him after that."
The enemy was pursued rapidly to Rawl's Mills, where,
at midnight, General Foster brought up heavy batteries
of artillery to a commanding hill-crest, and rained shot
and shell upon the retreating column. After an exhausting
102 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
day of twenty-two hours of activity, the troops bivouackea
that night in the clear moonlight, on the soft clay of the
captured line of works. The next morning, Williamston
was entered without opposition, the enemy having evacu-
ated it durina; the nis^ht, and most of the citizens havins:
fled, terror-stricken, from their homes. As the head of
the incoming column reached a principal street-corner of
the well-nigh deserted town, a party of Jack-tars from the
Union gunboats which had just ascended the Koanoke
Kiver gave an unexpected greeting to the army, by singing
the stirring song, "We'll rally round the flag, boys!"
and roused the enthusiasm of the soldiers to the highest
pitch. During the halt of several hours in the village,
there was, in spite of every effort to prevent it, much of
reckless pillaging and wanton destruction of private
property by the troops. Every thing eatable was, of course,
seized at once ; and at each street-corner, and in each back-
yard, pork, poultry, and beef were being cooked in the
most primitive style, at fires kindled from the convenient
fence-palings, or articles of household furniture. The few
families who remained seemed doubtful if even their lives
were to be spared by the bloodthirsty and relentless
Yankees; and it was with difficulty that some, whose
homes were, from the first, specially guarded against
intrusion, could be induced to refrain from loud shrieks
for mercy, or made to believe that no harm was intended
MARcnmo. 103
them, or injury to be done tlieii' property. The empty
cradle from which a sick child had been hurried away at
the risk of its life, and the cot from which a consumptive
patient had been borne out beyond the limits of the town,
in the cold night air, at his own earnest request, as pointed
out by those who knew the story of both, touched tlio
hearts of the Union officers, and showed to all how thor-
oughly misunderstood in the Southern community was the
purpose of the Federal army.
Passing on from Williamston, the column rested for the
nio'ht in an extensive cornfield of hundreds of broad acres,
presenting a scene of peculiar picturesqueuess, — a fire-
lit bivouac of thousands of armed men, with no seeming
limit to the stretch of blazing piles and clustered groups
and flashing weapons and moving forms, all overhung by
the illumined smoke-clouds, with the glimmering stars
beyond.
The next day, the column pressed on to Rainbow Fort,
a strong; work on a hio;h bluff above Hoanoke Eiver, and
flanked the position, so that it was evacuated in hot haste.
Thence to Hamilton, and across the country to Tar River,
to the suburbs of Tarborough. Returning to Hamilton, and
again to Wilhamston, it moved down to Janesville, and on
to Plymouth, where it took transports to Newbcrne ; reach-
ing its old base after an absence of two weeks, having
marched more than one hundred miles, and moved more
than four hundred by water.
104 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
In illustration of the trutb, familiar to every soldier,
that inaction causes far more complaint and discontent
than the severest service in campaigning, Camp wrote, in
one of his letters from Little Washington, on this expe-
dition, —
"We are all enjoying the return to active service.
Officers and men alike are more cheerful than for a long
time past. More enthusiasm has lain concealed beneath a
crust of grumbling complaints and talk of resignation than
I had any idea of We need work, — that's all, — to keep
us good-natured. Ice freezes thick over most men's
patriotism when it is dammed up, so that it seems to have
utterly vanished. Only open the sluiceways once in a
while, and the current, deep as ever, sweeps it away in a
twinkling, and again runs free and strong."
The expedition to Tarborough was novel in its nature,
partaking, in many features, of the general character of
Sherman's grand march through Georgia. There was the
same cutting loose from the base of supplies, the depend-
ing on the surrounding country for subsistence, the moving
through a tract hitherto unreached by the devastations of
war, the entering one town after another and quartering,
on its inhabitants, the visiting and emptying of richly
stored plantations and elegantly furnished private dwellings,
the seizure of horses and cattle for Government use, and
the gathering of slaves to give them freedom in a new
home. And there was the same inevitable lawlessness
FORAGING. 105
among the men having part in such a work. Passing a
farm-house, they would dart from the ranks to seize a fowl
or to gather a cap full of eggs, to bring back a pail of
sugar or of the demoralizing apple-brandy, or to bear off a
well-filled hive, with "two bees to one honey," as they
facetiously expressed it; and in a twinkling they would
ransack the dwelling from garret to cellar, making as great
havoc with those things utterly useless to themselves as
with that which their appetites or personal comfort de-
manded.
Camp entered heartily into all the legitimate excitements
and enjoyments of the expedition. No one was more
ready than he to have a run for live pork or poultry for
the field and staff mess, or for company cooks, while all
were dependent on what could thus be secured ; and no
one took more delight than he in all that was picturesque
or delightful in the surrounding country.
But he never forgot the dictates of honor or humanity.
He aided in soothing alarmed households ; he spoke kind
words to the sorrowing; and, on one occasion, when he
saw officers making sport of neatly-tied locks of hair and
other mementoes of the loved ones of a scattered family,
preserved in a quarto dictionary, he watched his oppor-
tunity, and, securing the volume with its precious contents,
hid it in a remote cupboard of the house, where probably
it would not again be seen until the proper inmates
returned to then- home.
106 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
The experiences of the expedition were widely varied,
— in weatlier, foee of country, and duties of tlie hour.
There were fair, bright days, and days and nights of cheer-
less storm, cold drenching rain, and even frost and a fall
of snow. There were the low sand plains of the Southern
coast, and, inland, hills almost like New England, and
dense woods, and fertile l&elds, and even clear purling
brooks, as well as chocolate-colored rivers ; then there were
North-Carolina swamps. Who, that has ever passed
through one of these, will fail to recognize the truthfulness
of Camp's description of it? —
" Perhaps mother knows what a Southern swamp is.
I am sure the rest of you don't. You'll find a better
description of it in ' Dred,' than I can give you ; but you
can't realize the dismal abominations of it until you see
them. For all that, it is pleasant enough to ride through
them on a bright, cool morning There is something
grand in the dark impenetrability, and the huge pines that
lift themselves out of it and seem as if they could look
down into all manner of inaccessible recesses and secret
hiding places, open only toward the sky. There is a
great deal that is beautiful, even in the midst of the swamp.
Trees have a luxuriance of growth, and density of cool,
fleshy, solid foliage, that you don't see at home. Even
the same varieties have a larger leaf and thicker twigs,
so that at first one hardly recognizes them. There are
thousands of unfamiliar vegetable shapes, — vines, and
A LANDSCAPE. 107
shrubs, and bushes, with odd and beautiful leaves and
flowers. I think, if I were a botanist (or still more, if I
were an entomologist, though I haven't enlarged upon
that subject), I shouldn't ask for any thing more than a
square rod of Southern swamp, to give me occupation for
a year."
One sunny morning, the road traveled by the column
wound down a hill, through the woods, across a wide brook
spanned by a rustic bridge. An old mill showed itself
among the trees at the left. A gum-canoe floated near
the bridge. The morning light struggled down through
the branches of pine and cypress and moss-hung oaks.
The bracing air of the morning was very exhilarating to
the refreshed soldiers. The unusual beauty of the spot
and the influences of the hour impressed every beholder ;
and, as the head of the first brigade reached the bridge,
a Massachusetts reojiment started the "John Brown"
chorus. The next regiment at once caught up the strain,
and it passed rapidly along the column, until the rich
melody rolled up from thousands of glad voices, far up and
down the winding road, thrilling the nerves and stirring
the soul of every participant and listener. Beyond the
woods the country opened into immense plains, showing
the yellow corn, the rank sorghum, and the snow-flecked
cotton-fields ; while the plantation-house was in view, with
its broad piazzas, its rear rows of negro shanties, its cotton-
press and gin-house. At this point there was a halt ; and
108 TUE KNIGHTLY SOLDIEn.
the joyous singing was cLauged to no less universal and
hearty cheering, as Major-General Foster, — the admired
and beloved commander, — with his staff, rode through
the open ranks to the extreme front.
Camp enjoyed such an hour as that, as he did, also, the
hour of social worship, when, around the blazing fire,
officers and men of the regiment gathered at evening in
the open field to sing and to pray, and to listen to God's
word. One evening, at a bivouac near Plymouth, when
the chaplain missed the adjutant for an hour, he ascertained
that the latter, in crossing the field, had found a prayer-
meeting of another regiment, and had stopped to enjoy its
privileges and be refreshed by its influence. And at many
a point, the quiet woods could tell how earnestly he
pleaded with God in the morning and evening houi' of
private devotion.
On the return of the troops from the Tarborough Scout,
Colonel Pettibone resigned command of the 10th, and
left for the North, Adjutant Camp accompanying him on
a brief leave of absence. The delights of that first visit
home, after a year of separation, could not be better
described than in the few telling lines which he wrote
concerning it to his friend in camp : —
" Once on the train which was to carry me straight
home, steam seemed very slow. There was a constantly
growing thrill of excitement, pleasant, yet with a dash of
anxious pain. If then I were to meet or find any thing
THE GOLDSBOROUGH RAID. 109
amiss ! I was driven from the depot as near the house as
I ventured to allow a carriage, lest its sound should betray
my coming ; walked softly, with feet that hardly felt the
gi-ound, past the cheerfully shining windows, to the rear
entrance ; noiselessly stepped along to the library door, and
threw it open. There they were ! What was said or done
I hardly know. Oh, the joy of that evening, and of every
moment since ! I wonder if you have ever been long enough
away from those you loved to know it thoroughly."
It was while Camp was at home at this time that
General Foster made his celel)rated Goldsborough Raid
from Newberne, in conjunction with Burnside's advance on
Fredericksburg, fighting the battles of South-west Creek,
Kinston, Whitehall, and Goldsborough. On this expe-
dition, the 10th Regiment performed hard service, and
won dearly bought distinction, losing in twenty minutes
more than one hundred men, with some of its best and
bravest officers, in the fight at Kinston.
Again Camp was deeply grieved at his loss of a share
in the work of his regiment. Nothing had seemed more
unlikely than such an expedition, at the time he went
North; and his surprise was as great as his disappointment,
on returnino; to Newberne, to find that his regiment had
been some ten days away. He was at once in the saddle
and on his way to overtake his command ; but the column
was already returning, and he met it but a few miles from
the city.
110 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
" So I am about a week too late," he wrote. " I would
give more than that of life to have been in that bayonet
charge. IMy absence from it, like that from the battle of
Roanoke, — much more, even, — will be a life-long disap-
pointment and regret. When the war is over, what shall
/have done? It is hard. . . . I have nothing to reproacA
myself with, only I feel like a man who has unfortunately
lost a magnificent opportunity."
So keenly did he feel this disappointment, that when,
shortly after, unusual promotion was tendered him, he
positively refused it, preferring that it should advantage
some one who had shared the perils of the recent expe-
dition.
Burnside's Fredericksburg defeat depressed many m
the army, as out of it ; but Henry Camp never despaired
of the cause which had his heart ; nor did he admit the
possibihty of any course but one for Government or
people.
"Has the North pluck enough to try it once more?"
he wrote after his return to Newberne. " Now is the time
to try men. I am astonished at the way some of them
talk. A man can not help it if things look dark to him,
— they do to me ; but he can help slackening effort, or
talking in a way to slacken others. • If every man would
set his teeth, and walk straight up to meet the ruin which
he sees coming, it would vanish before he came within
TRUE PATRIOTISM.
Ill
striking distance ; and, let worst come to worst, the nation
could at least die with ail its wounds in front. Better so
than to sneak into its grave a few years later with scars
on its back."
CHAPTER VI.
THE FIRST CHARLESTON EXPEDITION.
NEW expedition was talked of. Troops were
comino; from Suffolk to Newberne, and a naval
fleet was gathering at Beaufort. Wilmington
was aimed at. The division to which the 10th belonged
was to remain behind. Adjutant Camp was so anxious to
atone for what he deemed his recent loss of service, that he
proposed to accompany the expedition on the staff of a
commander of another division. But, at the last hour, the
10th was ordered to move also, and Camp gladly remained
with his regiment.
The 10th left Newberne by railroad for Morehead City,
Monday, Jan. 26, 18G3, and went on board a trans-
port in Beaufort Harbor the same day. The expedition
planned for Wilmington was, on account of the loss of the
orio-inal "Monitor" and from other causes, turned to the
department of the South. Its destination was known only
to the commanding general, until the sailing orders were
opened, after leaving the harbor, Saturday the 31st. The
trip to Port Royal was quickly and pleasantly made.
112
ST. HELENA ISLAND. 113
The satisfaction on finding that Charleston was the point
aimed at was general among the troops of the expedition ;
and Camp expressed his unfeigned delight at the prospect
of immediate , participation in a movement against the
nursery of treason.
The unfortunate collision between Generals Hunter and
Foster, resulting in the return of the latter to North
Carolina without his troops, was a cause of sad disappoint-
ment to those who were thus parted from the commander
whom they loved and trusted without measure or doubt.
The officers and men of the 10th were peculiarly tried ;
for they had been ordered oflf only at the last moment,
with the assurance that they were to be away from camp
not more than ten days, or at the outside a fortnight.
They had left behind all camp and garrison equipage,
regimental and company papers, personal baggage beyond
what was necessary for a short tour of field-service, and
even those officers and men who were not strong enough for
a march and an immediate fight. The order to land on
St. Helena Island, opposite Hilton Head, and go into
camp while thus circumstanced, was exceedingly unsatis-
factory; and it was by no means easy for them to have a
home feelinof, even as soldiers, while lackino; so much that
they had hitherto deemed essential to enjoyable camp life.
But they adapted themselves as best they could to their
situation ; and with the shelter-tents, of which they then
first had experience, supplemented by the broad leaves
114 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
of the palmetto, soon bad an attractive army settlement,
with its embowered chapel, its hedged streets, and its
neatly finished and ornamented quarters for officers and
men.
The long delay in waiting, with anxious and often
deferred hope for active operations in the department,
was not lost time to the troops of the expedition. They
improved the passing days in perfecting their drill and
discipline. Indeed, the lOtb Kegiment never appeared
better in drill, or on parade and review, than at St. Helena.
It won the highest commendations from commanders who
visited or reviewed it. Adjutant Camp did much, even
in the subordinate position he then held, to maintain its
character and advance its highest interests. Many who
were there remember how he was called on by Lieutenant-
Colonel Le2;ire(:t one afternoon to conduct the battalion-
drill, and how he performed his task. He had never before
taken the battalion in hand. He had not for weeks even
attended drill, — his services not being essential there, and
neither field nor staff having horses with them, — nor had
he five minutes' notice that he was to be pressed into the
service. He said aside to his friend that he should have
liked ten minutes to refresli his mind as to a few move-
ments ; but he made no excuse to his commander. Stepping
out to the parade-ground, he relieved his seniors, the
captains, and then for an hour and a half handled the
regiment so easily and correctly, that the lieutenant-
SABBATH-SCHOOL EXPERIENCE. 115
colonel — enthusiastic and accomplished soldier as he
was — said to him, in the presence of others that evening,
that it was the finest battalion-drill that had been held on
the island.
IMoreover, Camp was rarely absent from a religious
service in the regiment ; and, although always loth at home
to have his voice heard in public, he was now ready to
share with the chaplain in the exercises of the camp
prayer-meeting or sabbath school, and even to assume the
conduct of either, in case of the illness of his friend, or
when the latter was unavoidably kept away. His sabbath-
school experiences, as he then described them, will not be
deemed by all peculiar to himself alone : —
" I don't know how to interest a class. I have improved
somewhat in the ability to talk against time, though it
horrifies me sometimes to take out my watch and find that
I've got to make two verses last twenty minutes. But
when it comes to drawing out others, getting them to
interest themselves and to talk themselves on the subject
in question, I'm stumped."
Again he wrote, when called to act as both superinten-
dent and teacher, —
"Sabbath school was in the morning instead of the
afternoon. I had to take charo;e ao-ain. Teachers as well
as scholars are irregular. To-day, after the opening exer-
cises. Captain Atherton and I divided the school between
us. I became thoroughly interested in the lesson before
116 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIEB.
we were throiigli, as I often do, and enjoyed it, but sha'n't
dread it a particle less for next time,"
Those whom he taught would have a different story to
tell of his ability to interest a class. Few of them imagined
that he so dreaded the duty he performed so well.
Of the South-Carolina coast-scenery he wrote, after a
visit to a neio;hboriuo; island to St. Helena, —
" I stood a few hundred yards from the beach, and looked
seaward through a grove of palmetto-trees, with their tufted
tops and strangely figured trunks. The sun beat down
hot on the yellow sands ; there was a warm haze over the
blue water, dimming the nearer shore, and hiding the dis-
tant horizon ; and the scene was so thoroughly oriental,
that I could as easily fancy myself on the shores of Pales-
tine as realize that I was on those of Port Royal, and
shouldn't have been at all surprised to see a camelopard
stalk up, and commence browsing on the palm-shoots."
The intimacy of the adjutant and the chaplain grew
closer day by day. After leaving Newberne they were
seldom separated from each other for many minutes at a
time. They had the same tent and blankets, and shared
all their army possessions. They came to be known widely
as "the twins," from being always seen together. Their
free interchange of sentiment modified the views of each on
many points concerning which his opinions had before been
positive. Camp's calm, reliable judgment many times
held in check the chaplain's nervous impulsiveness ; his
CA RD - PL A YING. 117
stores of information proved the other often in error as to
facts bearing on a question at issue ; his uniform fairness
liberaHzed some sentiments of his friend as to men and
measures ; and his remarkable purity of mind and consis-
tency of adherence to his conscientious views of right could
not fail to be elevating and ennobling to one closely asso-
ciated with him. On the other hand, Camp had been so
accustomed to examine every question in its purely logical
bearings, as sometimes to overlook its practical relations to
every-day life in the world as it is. The chaplain's expe-
rience among men furnished his friend with new elements
of thought in some discussions, and those elements he
always accepted at their fullest weight.
His change of sentiment as to the propriety of card-
playing and wine-drinking should not be passed over without
mention in the record of Camp's army-life. As neither
of these practices was viewed by him as in the abstract
sinful, he could not join in sweepingly condemning them.
Although personally abstemious, he recognized no positive
duty of abstinence, hence would not have hesitated to drink
a glass of wine had he wished it, and as readily before
others as by himself; for what he considered right in his
practice he was willing to have as an example to those
about him. Of card-playing, in the light in which he saw
it, he said at one time that he should no more shrink from
the thought of being killed while thus engaged than wliile
reading the daily paper.
118 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
The abstinence question he discussed with his friend
while they were making a passage on an army-transport.
The two stood or sat together on the deck during nearly
all of one night in the final argument. Camp's clear head
made the discussion most searching and thorough ; and no
reason that could be adduced in defense of alcohol as a
beverage, or the propriety of its use by any, was over-
looked. It was after mature deliberation upon the discus-
sion of that night, that Camp expressed his conviction that
total abstinence was a duty, in view of the evils of intem-
perance, the weakness of tempted human nature, and the
responsibility of every man for his personal example.
Thenceforward, until the day of his death, only on one
occasion, did a drop of alcoholic liquor pass his lips ; and
that was during his week of escape from prison, after such
a soaking in the cold river, on a wintry night, as required
an iauuediate stimulant to arouse sufficient nervous action
to sustain life. He more than once refused its use, even
when advised as a medicine by the very friend whose
words had led him to renounce it.
Of the other mooted theme, he wrote from St.
Helena, —
"Last evening we discussed card-playing. You know
how I have thought and talked on that subject for the last
five or six years. Three-quarters of an hour brought me
to his side of the question, — no point of abstract right or
of absolute duty, but of practical expediency. That is
SEABED OK ISLAND. 119
what I have all my life neglected sufficiently to consider.
I have failed both in theory and action to give it due
weight. A thing of such universal application too ; there
is no point which it doesn't touch. I am beginning to
realize this as I never have before, and my views are being
modified to an extent, that, if carried out in practice, will
affect my life both for the present and the future."
Never afterward, even in all the lonely prison-hours at
Charleston, Columbia, and Eichmond, where at times he
was the only officer thus strict in his views, did he indulge
in a single game of cards. Thus true was he ever to his
convictions of duty, whether they coincided with popular
opinion or were peculiarly his own.
General Stevenson's brigade left St. Helena IMarch 27,
and the following day proceeded on transports to North
Edisto Inlet, as the advance of Hunter and Dupont's
expedition against Charleston ; having in view the occupa-
tion of Seabrook Island to protect its harbor as a rendez-
vous for the iron-clads and army-transports. That island
was then in the enemy's possession, patroled by his cavalry.
General Stevenson's command having reached the inlet
soon after noon of the 28th, the 10th landed first, while
the navy vigorously shelled the woods of the island. With
the knowledge that resistance, if made at all, would most
likely be offered while the troops were landing, the
debarkation was exciting. Five huge launches, containing
about one hundred men each, pushed off from the steamer
120 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
"â– Cabawba," which brought the 10th from Hilton Head,
and were slowly pulled to the shore ; the men meantime
singing cheerily the "John Brown" chorus. Soon as the
first prow struck the beach, there was a scramble for the
land, officers and men vying with each other in endeavors
to be first on the island. Many plunged to their waists into
water and mud in their haste to be foremost. Then, as
Camp wrote, —
*' We formed line with all speed, ready to repel attack ;
and when all had landed, and piled their knapsacks so as
to march with ease and rapidity, started along a road which
skirted the beach and led toward the upper end of the
island, — Captains Goodyear and Atherton deploying skir-
mishers in advance of the regiment. General Stevenson,
Colonel Otis, Lieutenant-Colonel Leggett, Trumbull, and
myself walked at the head of the column, within a few
yards of Captain Goodyear's men. It was somewhat
exciting to advance thus through an enemy's country,
doubtful whether it was occupied by them at the time, and
uncertain at what moment we might meet sudden opposition.
T. and I enjoyed it exceedingly together."
Two miles up the island the regiment halted for the
night, on the Seabrook Plantation, darkness having
already shut in. The 24th Massachusetts and the 5Gth
New- York State Volunteers were in close support of
the 10th. Soon after the halt, the rebel cavalry made a
dash upon the picket-reserves ; and, in the skirmish which
IN CAMP. 121
followed, a sergeant of the lOth was carried off a prisoner,
mortally wounded. " He is the first man," wrote Camp,
' ' ever taken forcibly prisoner from the regiment. It
would have been better to lose a dozen in action."
The following morning the 10th was relieved from
picket, and returned in a drenching rain-storm to the lower
end of the island to find itself quarters in a comfortless
swamp.
*'It isn't particularly cheerful, after a stormy march,"
wrote Camp, "to halt in the midst of dripping trees and
bushes, look about one, and consider that his home for the
next few days is to be right there ; that he'll have just as
much comfort as he can get out of those surroundings, and
no more. Walk out to Talcott Mountain (though that is
altogether too pleasant a place) next time there's a good
heavy storm fairly in progress, and see how it seems."
The 10th was soon, in spite of this unpromising loca-
tion, in a comfortable camp, from which it thenceforward
alternated with the other regiments of the command in
three-day tours of outpost duty, anticipating hopefully an
order to advance to a more active part in the opening
campaign. As the enemy held the upper part of Seabrook
Island, and the opposing pickets were in sight of each
other (the enemy often firing upon the ' ' intruding Yankees,"
or coming down in the night to feel their strength, and in
the hope of capturing a few prisoners), outpost service
was there sufiiciently exciting to render it attractive.
122 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
General Stevenson wishing to know more of the topog-
raphy of the island, of its approaches from the main land,
and of the location of the enemy's reserves, small scouting
parties went out beyond his lines from time to time to
obtain the desired information. Such undertakings were
peculiarly in keeping with the tastes and impulses of
Adjutant Camp. Rarely, if ever, did he fail to make one
of the party so advancing ; and in more instances than one
he and his friend were alone on such a scout. Describing
some of these adventures in his home-letters, he said of his
enjoyment in them, —
' ' The necessity of constant watchfulness, of having an
eye for every sight and an ear for every sound ; the con-
sciousness of what you are staking upon every movement
you make, and the uncertainty, once advanced to a dan-
gerous position, whether even the utmost prudence and
courage may not fail to extricate you, bring into play every
faculty a man possesses, and put a tension upon every
nerve. The enjoyment is intense ; and I think any man
who is thoroughly ennuye, and has worn out the round of
civihzed amusements, would find there was one thrill of
untried excitement and pleasure left for him if he would
go with us on a little excursion outside the lines. Nothing
but an actual brush with the enemy, which we are provoked
to have missed after having once or twice offered them so
fair an opportunity, has been wanting to make all complete.
ATTACK ON CHARLESTON. 123
Trumbull and I have been together each time, and enjoyed
*
each other's presence exceedingly."
When finally the navy was ready for a move, the troops
on Seabrook Island found no part assigned them in a fur-
ther advance. This was to Camp a sore disappointment.
It was with longing eyes that he watched from a high
sand-bluff, on the morning of Easter Sabbath, April 4th,
the great fleet of iron-clads and wooden gunboats sail out
of Edisto Inlet, and up toward Stono, to commence the
attack. Two days later, wi'iting from his little "A"
tent, at the picket reserve, he said, —
"As I write this, the thunder of heavy guns to the
northward is almost incessant. The attack on Charleston
has commenced. I counted ten reports in a minute a lit-
tle while ago, and the fire seems to be growing hotter and
hotter. We chafe and fret at our distance from the fio-ht :
but there's nothing for us but a masterly inactivity. It is
terribly provoking to sit here and listen, guarding a few
miserable old schooners from an attack which would never
be made in any event, — and to think that this is oui' share
in the gi-eat Charleston expedition ! "
A few hours' cannonading ended the great enterprise,
which had been so many weeks preparing. Camp listened
in vain for a resumption of the attack after the first inter-
mission in the firing ; and, as he listened, he wrote thus of
his outpost-home with its attractions and annoyances : —
124 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
"I have hardly seen a prettier spot than this island
since leaving home, Beaufort, perhaps, excepted. Our
field and staff tents are by themselves in a quiet, shady
spot, a little retired from the main road up the island.
The high sand-bluff upon the beach, used as a lookout, is
directly opposite us, — a quarter of a mile distant through
the woods ; and we are lulled to sleep at night by the
roar of the surf at its base. To-night, perhaps, it will be
a sterner thunder than that of ocean storms; a fiercer
crash than that of waves along the shore.
" But the gnats, and the ants, and the spiders, and the
lizards, and the scorpions, and the moccasins, and the alli-
gators, and the rebels (most harmless to us of any), are
the slight drawbacks upon our enjoyment."
Of another drawback upon enjoyment on the Southern
coast, he humorously added, in another letter, —
" When you hear of mosquitoes, you think of a small
brown insect, don't you ? with legs and wings almost in-
visible, and a hum audible some inches from the ear. I
wish you could see the animal that goes by the same name
here. When / speak of a mosquito, I mean something
that stands a little less than fourteen hands high (can't
give the weight, because we have no platform-scales) ;
whose wings are like Apollyon's in the ' Pilgrim's Prog-
ress ; ' whose muscular legs are horribly striped with black
and white ; whose sting is like the dragon's which St.
George slew, and whose voice is as the sound of many
SEABROOK ISLAND. 125
waters. I tliink of writing an article for the * New-Eng-
lancler,' settling the question what beast Job described
under the name of Behemoth, by demonstrating that it
was a Carolina mosquito or a woodtick, — either of them
would furnish a more plausible theory than some I have
read."
The stay of the 10th at Seabrook Island was pro-
longed ; and, in spite of the chafing desu-e to be in more
active service, Camp enjoyed his life there. The island
was a good specimen of the cotton-growing ones of the
South-Carolma coast. There were rich plantation-plains,
malaria-breeding marshes, "wild swamps, dense thickets of
the tangled Southern undergrowth, lonely palmetto-jungles,
and groves of low branching live-oaks, deeply fringed with
long gray moss." Alligators moved lazily through the
sluggish waters of the gloomy lagoon, and poisonous rep-
tiles glided through the rank grass before the tread of the
passing soldier. Game was plenty, — deer and raccoons
and opossums in the forests, and wild fowl in the creeks
and inlets, while the waters adjacent furnished a rich va-
riety of fish, from the mammoth stui'geon to the small and
palatable mullet.
Here is one of many incidents of army-life on the
island : —
" Coming back just after dark from the picket-reserve
to camp, we heard distant singing, which proved, as we
came near, to be a group of the 97th Pennsylvania
126 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
singiug hymns. We stopped to listen ; and finally T.
determined to say a few words to them, and did it as
he knows how to do such a thing, interesting every man
of them, from beo-innino; to end, and concludinof with
prayer. I liked the men's appearance, — the way in
which every cap came off when T. entered the group,
and the respectful attention they paid. Their manners
were real Western, — free and easy, without the slight-
est intentional disrespect. The moment the meeting
was over, they crowded ai-ound, asked T. if I was a
Christian man ; and every one of them wanted to shake
hands with us, and have a good sociable talk. Cor-
dial, open-hearted fellows, — it was very pleasant, if not
quite military. The last thing our men would think of
would be offering to shake hands with an officer. The
97th have no chaplain ; but there is a strong religious
element in the regiment, and quite a number they say
have been converted since joining the army.
" Returning to picket at dusk that evening, the air was
one blaze of fire-flies. I never saw any pyrotechny to
equal it. There are many beautiful things at the South ;
but nothing under heaven would ever tempt me to spend
my life here. I should die for pure air and clear streams,
and rocks and hills. I wouldn't exchange our home-lot
for the whole State of South Carolina."
About the first of May, while the work of intrenching
SABBATH SCHOOL. 127
was going on at Seabrook Island, Chaplain Trumbull left
for a brief visit to Newberne and the North, on business for
the regiment. The parting of the two friends, intimate as
they had become, and in view of the possibilities of war,
was trying to both.
Writing to his friend, during that separation, of his
loneliness, Camp expressively declared it to be "as if
the air were deprived of one-half of its oxygen ; " and then
added, —
" I used to think, a year ago, that a single wall-tent
furnished very narrow accommodations for an officer, —
mine was not large enough. But ours seems very lonely
and empty this evening : there is a great vacancy here, and
it remains unfilled, no matter how many come in. I could
not fully realize, before we were separated, how thoroughly
our lives had become blended, how sadly I should miss
you every hour of the day, how anxiously I should await
the time of your return. . . .
" There is a constant sense of want while you are absent,
— not at all times making itself distinctly intelligible, but
ever recurring and still unsatisfi,ed. Wherever I turn,
there is a great vacuum before me. I want it filled. What
do you suppose would do it? "
In the chaplain's absence, the adjutant assumed the con-
duct of the regimental prayer-meetings and Sabbath school.
He re-organized the latter, secured additional teachers, as-
sembled them with their associates for an examination of
128 THE EXIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the lesson at his own tent on Saturday evenings, and can-
vassed the regiment for scholars. In all respects, the
school was better managed than while the chaplain was
with it ; and the prayer-meetings of the regiment were nev-
er warmer or seemingly more truly profitable than then.
As in every thing else to which he set his hand and heart,
he filled the place better than it could be filled by another.
Gen. Terry assumed command, in May, of the troops in
North Edisto Inlet, including those on Seabrook and Bot-
any Bay islands. Two members of his staff, Capt. Ives
and Lieut. Johnson, were college comrades — the latter a
fellow-oarsman in the Worcester regatta — of Henry Camp,
who enjoyed having near him those with whom he had
been before so pleasantly associated. Occasional excur-
sions were made by officers and men of the 10th to
neighboring islands patrolled by the enemy, to make ob-
servations, and to obtain furniture and building-materials
for their camp from deserted plantation-houses. Of an
excursion to Edisto Island, with two companies as escort
of the party of officers. Camp wrote, in description of the
approach to the Seabrook place : —
" Beyond the bridge we moved with great caution ; the
skirmishers widely deployed, and keenly observant of the
house and shrubbery, from which, as we were now within
rifle-range, we half expected to be fired upon. Standing
still for a moment, Dr. Newton saw a crow perched upon
the cupola of the house. ' All right ! ' he exclaimed :
SECURITY IN DANGER. 129
'there wouldn't be a crow there if there were fire-arms
nearby.' That crow was worth to us, in the way of evi-
dence, as much as a whole battalion of skirmishers. It was
a very short time before we were in possession of the estab-
lishment. . . .
*' It is strange what a tendency there is, after once taking
possession of a place and becoming convinced that no ene-
my is actually on the premises, to settle down into a feel-
ing of security. No matter how nervously it may have
been approached, perhaps all the more for the very reasons
that the first apprehensions proved groundless, no matter
how clear a knowledge of the danger still existing men
may have^ — they will yet act as if there were none ; and it
is often impossible, without a distinct eflfort of the reason,
to realize it. Eveiy thing looks so peaceful and quiet, — and,
then, there is the guard (seldom in fact adequate to cover
half the approaches) , who would probably give the alarm
in time enough, unless they were surprised. So, arras are
stacked, and we wander over the estate as carelessly as if
it was on the shores of Long-Island Sound, instead of Ed-
isto Inlet. Still there is an almost unconscious watchful-
ness of the senses, the ear is wide awake for the sound of
a rifle-shot, no matter what the head may be thinking of ;
the eye, when not otherwise employed, is very apt to sweep
the circuit of surrounding woods, or glance down the road ;
and the crash of a breaking window, the fall of a heavy
timber, or the sight of an animal moving among the distant
9
130 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
bushes, an'ests the blackberry half way between the vine
and one's mouth, or saves the flower for which his hand
was stretched out, and puts him in readiness, on the slight-
est confirmation of his suspicion, to make quick time to the
rendezvous. . . .
" The grounds about the place were very pleasant, only
needing care. There were paths winding through dense
shrubbery and passing by ornamental bridges over a little
stream ; there were arbors and walks shaded by foliage too
close and thick to give passage to a single ray of sunlight;
there were enormous rose-trees lifting far above my head
such masses of gold and crimson as I had never seen, —
cloth-of-gold roses, do you know them ? — each as large as
half a dozen of any ordinary variety, crowded with petals
of golden velvet, so rich and thick, and of a color so soft,
that you can compare them with nothing but bits of sunset
cloud : a single one is a magnificent bouquet. There was
a grove of orange-trees, some of them in blossom ; the pure
white buds bursting out of glossy deep-green leaves, and
filling all the air around with perfume almost too rich and
overpowering. There were strange century-plants like
mighty cactuses, and unfamiliar tropical-looking growths
to which I could give no name. The luxuriance and full-
ness of vegetation is wonderful : every plant seems to feel
itself at home, and abandons itself to utter dissipation and
wantonness of unrestrained development. A Southern
April has more of glowing bloom, fierce intensity of color
A RECONNOISSANCE. 131
and brilliancy, in contrast with more of somber shade, den-
sity of massive growth, and depth of green gloom beneath,
than Northern midsummer. I have spoken of this before ;
but it was peculiarly noticeable in this garden where culti-
vation had done its utmost, and then left Nature to work
its own will. . . .
** We marched back along the sea-beach, almost every
man with some article of comfort or convenience for his
tent, scarcely one without a huge bunch of these gorgeous
flowers in the muzzle of his rifle or in his hand ; so that,
marching at will, we looked more like a procession of Ital-
ian peasants returning from a festival than a battalion of
Connecticut Yankees coming back from a hazardous recon-
noissance."
About the first of June, the chaplain returned to the
regiment, and the friends were again as one. Not many
days after their re-union, they accompanied Gren. Stevenson,
with several companies of the 10th, beyond the picket-lines
on a reconnoissance to the extreme upper end of the island
to examine its approaches from John's Island. The rebel
pickets fell back on the approach of the general's party,
and retired over a broken causeway to a collection of build-
ings, including an old sugar-house on the John's-Isl-
and side of the little creek which bounded Seabrook Island
in that direction. There were indications that they had a
strong reserve in the rear of those buildings ; but, it not be-
ing the general's purpose to go beyond the island, he or-
132 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
dercd a return by another patli tban that which had just
been passed over. Up to this time, he had met with no
resistance.
" E,etiring, the skirmishers, deployed in open h'ne,
marched in the rear. Within a dozen paces were the
general, with two or three of his friends, — Colonel Otis,
Lieutenant-Colonel Leggett, Dr. Newion, T., and myself.
Captain White, who commanded the skirmishers, was close
by. We had gone some little distance, supposing that
the affair was over, and half grumbling that it had amounted
to no more, when we were startled by a report behind us,
followed instantly by the sharp hiss of a bullet close past
our heads. The skirmishers — to say nothing of any
others — were a trifle surprised. Every man of them
ducked his head ; and we found ourselves suddenly just
about in line with them. Then another report and another
bullet ; this time a few feet over us, and a little one side.
Shot followed shot in quick succession ; now two or three
almost together, then an interval of quiet.
"We walked slowly along, not altering our pace, —
sometimes stooping at the sound of the explosion, and
sometimes not. I was surprised to find that there was
abundant time for this before the arrival of the bullet, —
a distinct interval, — showing that its velocity and that of
sound differ more than I had supposed. It must have been
long range ; but the marksmanship was excellent. Bullets
struck among us, passed over us, by us, between us,
UNDER FIRE. 133
everywhere but tbrougb ns. We were undoubtedly made
special targets. The group walking together was an
excellent mark, and the distance was short enough ; so that,
with a glass at least, badges of rank must have been easily
distinguishable. Dr. Newton had on a white Panama hat,
— just the thing at which to aim. Colonel Leggett was
just in front of T. and myself, a little one side. He looked
around once, saw the smoke curl from the muzzle of a piece,
and instinctively stepped to the left. In a second more
the bullet whistled between us and him, passing directly
where he had stood, and striking the ground within a few
inches of his foot.
*' The difference in sound between different bullets was
marked. Some had the fierce whizz of the spinning rifle-
ball, some the sharp hiss of the smooth-bore missile, and
some a fainter and less vicious ' whssh,' as if they were
almost spent, and had lost half their venom. Some were
more distant ; some seemed close to our ears : but there
was hardly one ill aimed, and it was really strange — provi-
dential, I should say — that none of us were hit. . . .
The most tantalizing thing all this time was that the enemy
kept closely under cover. We didn't catch sight of a man
after fire was opened. Our men were told not to return
it unless they could see their mark ; and the result was
that not a shot was fired from our side. They did not
keep it up long, — probably kept near the bridge, — and
we were soon out of range."
134 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER,
The enemy seemed provoked at the escape of the ven-
turesome party, and, soon after the latter had reached its
former lines, came down with cavalry, artillery, and
infantry, and opened with a section of a light battery from
the front yard of the Seabrook House, on the woods which
shielded the Union pickets. General Stevenson ordered
up two guns to reply ; and a brisk artillery duel followed,
with a few casualties on both sides. "We enjoyed
intensely the exciting sport," wrote Camp to his home,
in description of this afternoon's experiences : then, in
defense of the sentiment thus expressed, he said in a
subsequent letter, —
" No motive that is not positively wrong can, I think,
be spared. There is lack, rather than excess, with most.
Whatever may be the underlying principle of action which
is really at the basis of all else, I am inclined to believe
that that which is usually uppermost in the mind, as imme-
diately affecting the conduct in time of danger and trial, is
the excitement of the struggle, positively; negatively, the
shame of misconduct or failure. As long as men are mere
men, I don't see how it can be otherwise. If the higher
inducements to duty were the only ones, I should fear for
results. What will be the effect upon character, we can
judge better, perhaps, when the war is over. It does not
seem to me that they will be otherwise than beneficial;
belief which is, of course, the necessary sequence of a belief
JUDGE ADVOCATE. 135
in the motives themselves as being — in ultimate subordi-
nation to nobler ones — justifiable and right."
The fleet-captain of the iron-elads in the waters of Edisto
was Commander George W. Rodgers of the " Cattskill,"
a Christian oflScer of rare worth and attainments, whom
the two friends found congenial in tastes and sympathy.
They visited him in his vessel, and he was frequently in
their tent. It was Captain Kodgers's custom to conduct a
religious service among his men each sabbath, and he was
glad to have the chaplain preach for him occasionally;
while he always came to the shore for the camp service on
the sabbath, when he could do so. He greatly admired
Adjutant Camp, saying to his friend that he deemed him
the most attractive volunteer officer he had ever met.
The adjutant was detailed as judge-advocate of a general
court-martial on Seabrook Island ; and although, with his
accustomed distrust of himself and his relentless self-
censure, he wrote, "I was careless and clumsy, made
omissions and blunders, and did myself very little credit,"
he won warm praise from the officers composing the court ;
and one of the most prominent of them remarked after-
ward, that every member of it became attached to him,
although but one or two had known him before.
The power of his personal presence was remarkable.
Few ever saw him without being impressed with a sense
136
THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
of bis superiority. The impulse to lift a bat to bini, as a
tribute to bis clio-nified manliness, was often manifested
even by tbose above Mm in official rank. Said one wbo
was always bis superior officer, " I was never very intimate
witb Camp, for I always bad too mucb respect for bim."
Tbe better be was known, tbe more be was esteemed and
beloved.
CHAPTER YII.
JAMES ISLAND AND EORT WAGNER.
N the evening of jMonday, July 6, 1863, a pleasant
party sat at dinner in the field and staff mess-tent
of the 10th C. y. on Seabrook Island. An old-
fashioned New-England chowder had been prepared, and
General Stevenson and Commander Rodgers invited to
share it. Besides their guests, there were present Colonel
Otis, Lieutenant-Colonel Leggett, Major Greeley, Surgeon
Newton, and Assistant-Surgeon Hart, together with the
adjutant and the chaplain. While the dinner was in
progress, and all were enjoying themselves, with hardly a
thought of severe service as a possibility for the season,
word came that a steamer was crossing the bar at the
mouth of the inlet ; and at once the party was broken up,
never to be re-united on earth. Within a fortnight from
that evening, Adjutant Camp and his friend were prisoners
in a Charleston jail. The brave Lieutenant-Colonel
Leo-o-ett lost a leg in the trenches of Morris Island, and
good Commander Eodgers yielded his life in the bombard-
Later, gallant General Stevenson was
ment of Wagner
137
138 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
killed at Spottsylvania Court House, and Major Camp
fell before E.ichmond ; while Colonel Otis and Surgeon
Newton left the service, after prolonged and arduous cam-
paigning. At the time of the writing of this memorial,
only Major (now Colonel) Greeley, Surgeon Hart, and
Chaplain Trumbull, remain in service of the nine who then
arose from the table.
" Orders had come to go aboard the 'Ben de Ford' (a
large ocean steamer) as soon as she arrived, which would
be during the night. ' Light marching order, forty rounds
of ammunition in the cartridge-boxes, ten days' rations,
shelter-tents for the men.' I carried the order round to
company commanders. It is curious to see how men will
take a bit of news that has somewhat of the startling in it.
I like to take one, and watch ; see with what an utterly
matter-of-course air they listen ; ask a question that may
be of life or death as unconcernedly as they would ask
whether you liked your beefsteak rare or well done ; and see
behind it all the intense interest and curiosity with which
the smallest item of information in reference to the aflfair is
caught at and treasured up. I was amused last night at
a lieutenant, who heard what I had to say to him as quietly
as if it hardly paid him for taking his eyes off his news-
paper. I left the tent, but had occasion to repass it im-
mediately. There he was, performing the wildest kind of
a Pawnee war-dance ; just about half crazy with delight
and excitement at the prospect of work ahead. News
AT JAMES ISLAND. 139
went before me as I passed down the line ; and, in ten
minutes, preparations were under full headway."
Greneral Stevenson's troops, with the exception of
enough for guard duty, left Seabrook Island on the early
morning of July 7. Only the effective men of the
command went along, and the oJBficers took merely such
personal baggage as could be carried in a haversack or
light valise. The understanding was that they were to
return in a few days ; but, as in the leaving of Newberne,
the event proved that they were not to go back. Sailing
to Port-Royal Harbor, they waited the perfection of ar-
rangements for General Gillmore's attack on Morris
Island. The 56th New- York regiment, under Colonel
Van Wyck, was with the 10th on the ' ' Ben de Ford. ' ' On
the evening of the 9th, there was a delightfully impressive
prayer-meeting on the after-deck of the steamer, attended
largely by the officers and men of both regiments, which
will not soon be forgotten by any who participated in
it. Soldiers love to pray before they fight. Those who
trust in Jesus draw closer to him then, and the roughest
are reverent at such a time. The voices of prayer were
subdued, yet earnest; and the songs of praise were mellow
with deep feeling.
The morning of July 10 found the troops of General
Terry — under whom General Stevenson was commanding
his brigade — landing at the lower end of James Island,
in conjunction with General Strong's advance from Folly
140 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
to IMorris Island. The former's move was unopposed,
and he chose his first position a short distance up the
island. From the roof of the River House, a full view
was obtained of Charleston and its harbor ; and the friends
watched with deepest interest the filing from Sumter and
Moultrie and the Morris-Island batteries, and from the
ii'on-clad fleet in the offing, and speculated on the progress
and prospects of the battle as reports came over from the
forces of General Gillmore in that direction.
On Saturday evening, just before sundown, a demon-
stration was made toward the works at Sccessionville.
" The 24th Massachusetts, 97th Pennsylvania, and our-
selves, advanced ; formed line of battle in a large open
field, while the gunboats shelled the ground in front ; and
at dusk we threw out pickets a few hundred yards, and
bivouacked for the night. All our men, except one com-
pany, were posted on picket, and covered a very long
front. Henry went in one direction, and I in another,
along the line, to carry orders. (Henry I always call
him here; and I'm going to quit insulting him as 'T.'
in my letters to you ; and here is a commencement.)
Darkness coming on rapidly, I lost my way in endeavor-
ing to gain the reserve. The field had been plowed in
deep furrows; was overgrown with rank weeds, breast-
high ; was broken up by thorny, impenetrable hedges, and
miry, impassable ditches ; and was in all respects about as
undesirable a place for an evening ramble as could be got
A NIGHT TRAMP. 141
up to order. Every other sfep among the irregular fur-
rows pitched one unexpectedly forward, jarring every
bone in his body, or brought him up standing against au
ascending slope. Every few rods brought him to a chasm,
invisible in the darkness, until his foot was on its edge.
Every few hundred yards plunged him into briers and
bushes, where he would do well if he could retrace his
steps to the entrance with any considerable remnant of
clothes or skin. Then there was the more than even
chance of being shot by our own pickets, who, so near the
enemy's works, stand upon very little ceremony, and give
their single challenge in scarcely audible tones, lest they
should be heard too far. Twice I but just distinguished
it among the crackling underbrush ; and often I halted ab-
mptly, doubting whether I had heard it or not. Ordina-
rily, having found the picket-line, it would be easy to
reach the reserve : but here, the pickets, having been
moved after dark, gave the most contrary directions ; and
repeated attempts to follow their advice only bewildered
me the more by want of success in ascertaining where they
had brought me."
A spot is seldom found more perplexing for a night
tramp than that seemingly boundless field, with its furrows
and ditches and entanghng weeds, and the enemy so near
at hand. JMen who were then on post tell to this day of
the many bewildered wanderers who came prowling along
the line that night in search of the reserve, and of the con-
142 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
fusing whistling and signal-calling at right and left and
rear, kept up for hours by the lost ones, or by those who
were searching for them. Hardly an officer left his posi-
tion but he had difficulty in finding his way back to it. It
was near midnight before Camp and his friend were again
together at the reserve, both by that time well-nigh ex-
hausted from their exertions in the suffocating air of a
South-Carolina July night.
*' We spread Henry's buffalo and my blankets," wrote
Camp the next day, "over an India-rubber, across the
furrows, our heads resting on one ridge, our feet over
another ; and composed ourselves for a capital sleep, tired
enough. Never were poor fellows worse disajDpointed.
Mosquitoes attacked us in a style to which rebels wouldn't
have been a circumstance. I suppose we did sleep during
the night ; but we didn't know it. We seemed to spend
every moment in writhing into new positions of defense or
suffering. I was driven up at daylight. Having accom-
plished that, the enemy retired, and now seem to be
waiting until we try to sleep again at night."
Camp omitted in that letter to tell of an act of generous
self-forgetfulness of his that morning. The chaplain, who
had left Seabrook Island in poor health, and had no
surplus strength to expend, suffered acutely during
that night of torment; tossing restlessly; unable to
sleep, yet unable to fully awake ; at times pulling the
blanket as a mosquito-bar over his face and hands, to
SELF-FORGETFULNESS, 143
swelter under its oppressive weight ; then throwing it off
only to be bitten at every exposed atom as before ; and
thus until nearly morning, when there came to him in his
half-consciousness a sense of exquisite relief in the draw-
ing-away of the heavy blanket, the wiping of the soaked
face, the fanning of the heated brow, the keeping-back of the
persecuting swarm, followed by such delightful, refreshing,
satisfying repose, as he scarce ever knew before or since.
Understanding his friend's condition from his own expe-
rience. Camp had risen to care for him with affectionate
tenderness : and there he sat, for nearly two hours, to
secure sleep to the one of whose comfort he was ever thus
considerate ; waking him, finally, only to give him a cup
of fresh and invigorating army coffee which he had had
prepared. Such evidences of his warmth of heart and
nobleness of nature were by no means rare toward the
one blessed with his friendship.
"There is no probability," Camp added, "that we
shall do any fighting here, though we expected to come
under fire when we marched yesterday afternoon.
"The most uncomfortable sensations connected with a
fight are those of immediate anticipation, without the excite-
ment of action. Such we experienced then, but army
life has rendered them quite familiar.
" Give me a short march to the field, fight or no
fight."
The advanced position taken on Saturday night by Gen-
144 THE KNIGHTLY SOLBIEB.
eral Terry's troops was held for several clays, the difFerent
regiments alternating in picketing its front. Durino- the
afternoon of Wednesday the 15th, while the 10th was on
outpost, the enemy made a demonstration on the line for
the purpose of ascertaining its location and strength, but
retired without making an attack. Of what followed,
Camp thus wrote : —
" During the night, there were occasional shots along
the line of outposts. We had had a booth constructed,
open on all four sides, but covered at the top. Under this,
dry grass was thickly spread. Oiu* buffalo and blankets
laid upon this made the most luxurious bed we had en-
joyed since leaving Seabrook Island ; and, after being
disturbed once or twice in the evening by slight showers,
I was taking the comfort of it, when, just about daylight,
I was aroused by the bustle about me. ' What does this
mean?' said I to a man near me. 'There's so much
filing,' said he, 'that the colonel has ordered the tents
struck ; ' (shelter tents, of course). I opened my ears :
there was the popping of not very distant musketry,
growing, every instant that I listened, louder and more
rapid. There was no time for delay. Henry and I
dressed ourselves by putting on our coats and boots, rolled
up our blankets, and slung our haversacks. As we did
so, a messenger came to say that the 54th Massachusetts
(colored) , who were picketed on our right, were falling back,
and the enemy following close upon them. This was serious
SKIRMISHINQ. 145
news ; for, being on the extreme left, with a swamp behind
us, our communications with the supports in the rear were
endangered. Almost at the same moment, the boom of
artillery came to our ears from the left ; and a glance
showed us that the enemy had opened upon the ' Pawnee,'
which lay nearly opposite us in the river. A second shot
followed almost immediately upon the first, and the shriek
of the shell through the air ended with a heavy crash as
it tore its way through the vessel's timbers. The rebel
artillerists already had the range; and two batteries at
once opened, keeping up an almost incessant roar of
explosions, while the frequent sound of splintering wood-
work showed how eflfective was their fire.
*' A cloud of smoke, lit up with constant flashes, marked
their position within easy range of our own ; and the plan
seemed evident, — to drive in the center of our picket-line,
depriving us of all chance of support ; to cripple the vessel
by whose guns we were covered, and thus render us
helpless against the attack of the vastly superior force
which could easily be brought down upon us. Under
this fire, — wonderful for its precision and rapidity, — the
' Pawnee ' at first seemed to show no signs of life. Shot
after shot appai-ently raked her from stem to stern : still no
answer. At length came the deep thunder of her huge
Parrott gun ; compared with which, the voices of the rebel
field-pieces were like the barking of a pack of curs against
a mastiff. But the wildness of her fire contrasted sadly
10
146 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
with the accuracy of the enemy. Her gunners were evi-
dently taken by surprise ; and shell after shell burst wide of
the mark, while with tedious slowness she swung gradu-
ally broadside on. The sight was a beautiful and exciting
one, rarely witnessed to such advantage as now.
"Meantime we were not idle. Our pickets had been
sent for, with orders to make all haste ; and from every
part of the line we could see them across the wide plain
coming in on the double-quick, while the sound of mus-
ketry upon the right grew continually more distinct and
frequent. As the pickets reached the reserve, they formed
line. The last-comers reported that the enemy were
plainly to be seen near at hand from the outposts, a few
hundred yards distant. Had we been in any other posi-
tion along the line, it would have been our duty to resist
then' advance ; and we should have retired slowly, if we
had retired at all, fiohtino; as we went. Here it would
have been the useless and inevitable sacrifice of the whole
regiment by isolation from the rest of the command.
Colonel Leggett had received orders with reference to this
contingency, and acted upon them, as it proved, not a
moment too soon.
' ' The order was given to march. As we started, heavy
discharges of artillery sounded from the right : at least a
section or two of a rebel battery had taken possession not
far from us in that direction. In reply to these, our own
field-guns soon opened, and were served with a rapidity
SKIRMISHING. 147
and accuracy which spoke well for our friend Captain Eoek-
well (of the 1st Connecticut light-battery), and compared
favorably with the rebel fire. So, to the music of cannon on
the right and left, and musketry in the rear, we took up
our unaccustomed movement away from the front. The
rebels and ourselves were marching upon converging lines,
and then- distance from the point of intersection was but
slightly greater than our own. It became an interesting
question, how much before them we should reach it.
Thickets and hedges for the first few minutes prevented
our seeing them, and we moved in ordinary quick time.
Coming at length to a point whence we could obtain a
view of the wide plain, the sight that disclosed itself was
a startling one. Large bodies of gray-coated men, plainly
visible, and already within rifle-range, were rapidly and
steadily moving down toward the path along which we must
march ; their advance and ours very nearly upon the same
line. ' Double-quick ' was the word ; and we increased
our gait to a trot. Cut oflf by such a force as that, our
case was hopeless : it was life or death, captivity or free-
dom. Few words were spoken : each man saved his
breath and strength for the time of greatest need, kept his
place in the ranks, and moved steadily forward, only now
and then turning his head to see what was gained or lost.
The dusk of morning had not yet changed to full day-
light. The bushes by the roadside partially concealed us,
and we were probably still unseen. Looking back toward
148 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
tlie place we bad left, a long line of cavalry could be seen
advancing in open order; tbe enemy's skirmisbers feel-
ing tbeir way toward tbe position, wbicli, as far as tbey
knew, we still occupied, closing about it from all sides.
" Five minutes later tbat morning, and I sbould be writ-
ing to you, if writing at all, from a Cbarleston prison." [He
was tbere before tbis letter reacbed bis bome.]
' ' Tbe sigbt was a fine one : an outside spectator, at least,
would bave considered it so. It is seldom tbat one sees si-
multaneous operations of artillery, cavalry, and infantry
upon tbe same field. We were naturally more interested in
results tban appearances. Had fire tben been opened upon
us, it would bave put tbe soldierly discipline and steadi-
ness wbicb our men were proving so well to a severer test
tban I sbould bave wisbed to see. It was not done. We
soon reacbed and passed tbe point of gi-eatest danger, and,
leavino; tbe road as soon as tbe nature of tbe OTound made
it practicable, made our way tbrougb tbe woods to our camp,
and took our position in tbe line of battle upon wbicb sev-
eral regiments were already formed.
" Great as was our relief at escaping tbe more immediate
danger, tbe excitement of tbe day was by no means over.
Tbe rebel forces wbicb bad so nearly intercepted us were
soon in line before us. Tbeir flag, witb its wbite field and
red union, transversely crossed witb blue, floated at inter-
vals along tbe front, sbowing tbe space occupied by eacb
regiment. Mounted officers galloped along tbeir ranks ;
JAMES ISLAND EVACUATED. 149
and it looked as if for once we were to have a fair field-
fio;bt. So we stood for a little time, watchino; for the ball
to open. Then, instead of the advance which we expected,
they faced to the right, and passed at a double-quick along
our front, and out of sight behind the woods. This might
be a movement more threatening than a direct one. Our
left was greatly exposed. Should their battery flank and
enfilade us, our own reoiment and the 56th would be in a
very critical position, unable to resist an attack to any ad-
vantage. Meantime the artillery and gunboats kept up a
constant roar, A shell, which probably came from the
latter, exploded in the woods, half a dozen rods behind us ;
and their fire repeatedly endangered our skirmishers more
than that of the enemy. For half an hour, we were in sus-
pense : then came word that they had retired. The artil-
lery fire ceased, and we were dismissed from our position."
The loss in the engagement was exclusively to the 54th
Massachusetts, Colonel Shaw's regiment, which had fought
so bravely, in retiring from the picket line under overwhelm-
ing pressure, as to win respect from all other troops of the
command.
The night after the battle, James Island was quietly
evacuated by our troops ; the purpose of its occupancy, in
drawing forces from the direction of IMorris Island while
Gen. Gillmore obtained a foothold there, being successfully
accomplished. The march in darkness and rain across the
150 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
marshes and over the rickety causeways toward Cole
Island was tedious and perplexing ; and a brief rest during
the next day, on Cole Island, was most grateful to the
weary men of Stevenson's brigade. Yet another night
called for a new move. Houi's of waiting on the beach
for the rising tide were followed by hours of cramped con-
finement on a crowded barge in a drenching rain.
The morning of Saturday, July 18, brought the troops'
to the shore of Folly Island. Marching to its upper end,
they were ferried thence across Lighthouse Creek to Mor-
ris Island, just as the heavy bombardment of Fort Wagner
was commenced by the land batteries and the fleet of iron-
clads and wooden gunboats. The tked troops from James
Island had but little time for rest.
"About five P.M.," wrote Camp, ''came the order to
fall in, and march down to the shore. We were not the only
troops, it seemed, who had received the same instructions.
Far up the beach stretched the long column, of which Ste-
venson's entire brigade formed less than a third part. There
was little doubt as to the work before us, and that little
was speedily set at rest by word from the general himself.
We were to storm the fort. Our hearts beat high and fast.
Our men were faint and weary with days and nights of
sleeplessness and toil. Scarcely three hours' rest, and now
work to which all else had been as play was set before
them ; but the announcement sent new strength through
each vein. To storm the fort — that was a new and untried
BEFORE THE ASSAULT. 151
task. On the open field, and before rifle-pits and field-
works, they had more than once already marched through
the rain of bullets, and over captured batteries. But now
it was to wade the ditch, to clamber with hand and foot up
the steep slope beyond, while grape and canister would
pour forth with the very blaze of the powder in their faces
from the huge siege-guns, into whose muzzles they must
look, to meet at the parapet's edge the bayonets of its
defenders, and force the foe upward and backward over
his own vantage-ground . The feeling was not of doubt or
shrinking, but of curiosity mingled with firm resolve, be
the untried struggle what it might, — wonder with fierce
excitement. Among the groups of officers, as we stood
at a halt and along the ranks, some faces glowed with the
strange joy of combat ; but most had the fixed look of de-
termination, swallowing up every trace of emotion.
"We anticipated, at first, the leading place in the
assault ; but, when the column finally moved forward, we
were some distance from its head. As we advanced, the
bombardment grew hotter and hotter ; while the enemy, on
their part, sent only an occasional shot or shell, — some-
times from the Cummings-Point Battery, sometimes even
from distant Sumter, — whizzing by in front of us, or
passing overhead, and dashing up the water a little distance
from the shore. Beaching at length the outermost range
of sand hills, from which level marshy ground stretches
away toward the fort some twelve or fourteen hundred
152 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
yards distant, our brigade was detached from the column,
and sent into the trenches, to remain under cover until
re-enforcements should be needed at the front. It was a
disappointment not to be allowed to participate in the jQrst
attack ; but the decision was probably made in view of the
physical exhaustion of the men after their recent hardships.
" For a few moments we stood still in the shelter thus
afforded, and listened with a feeling of comparative security
to the howl of shot and shell over us, as the fire of the
enemy increased in rapidity and frequency. But the
desire to see the progress of the movement conquered all
else ; and Henry and I speedily mounted the bank, and
looked out before us, — taking, a few minutes afterward,
still another position, partially covered, and yet able to
command a view of the entire field. Our column was still
moving on in silence, the rapidly advancing darkness
almost hidino; them from our sio;ht. On our left, within
a few yards of us, stood General Gillmore and his staff,
watching intently from a slight elevation all that lay
beneath, regardless of the no inconsiderable danger to
which we were all exposed. The intervals were short
between the discharges of the enemy's artillery. We could
see the burning fuze describe its curve through the air,
unable sometimes to determine whether from a piece of
theirs or of our own, — now diverging widel}'- to the right
or left, now seeming to come directly toward us ; then, as
we stooped behind our defences, the swift rush of the shell
THE ASSAULT. 153
and the loud report of its explosion, — harmless if in front,
dangerous if overhead or within short distance to the rear.
One, bursting a few yards behind Henry and myself,
sprinkled us with the earth which it threw up.
" Night was soon fairly upon us, and the scene became
one of absolute magnificence. The firing of the fleet was
almost incessant, — twenty or thirty discharges in a minute,
— keeping up one uninterrupted peal of thunder ; wliile
each flash lighted up the vessel from which it came, the
smoke which rolled upward, and the water beneath, with
vivid brilliance. Nothing in the way of pyrotechnics
could equal in effect a broadside from the ' Ironsides ; '
its swift tongues of flame piercing deep into the darkness,
and bringing out into momentary distinctness the immense
hull from which they sprung, and the heavy boom of the
discharges coming over the water after long apparent
delay; while the fancy followed into the dark fort the
fourteen hundred pounds of solid iron which flew mean-
time, and wondered if they did their work.
" When a small boat put off from the shore toward the
fleet, and when shortly afterward the firing from the vessels
grew slack, and then ceased altogether, we knew what it
must mean, and looked still more anxiously over the plain.
A few minutes of comparative silence, and then a burst of
flame from the walls of the fort, — otherwise undistinguish-
able in the darkness, — and the sharp crackle of musketry
told us that the assault had commenced. Heavy discharges
154 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
of artillery followed in rapid succession, flasbing like heat-
lightning ; while the little jets of fire from the rifles made
a sparkling frieze along the dark parapet. Ah ! how men
were falling there ! — mowed down by whole companies, as
grape-shot and bullets tore through their ranks. Nothing
but flash and report was to be seen or heard. We could
only fancy the fearful work that was going on, and hope
that the result would compensate for it all. Now the fire
seemed to be growing less hot ; occasionally almost ceasing
for a brief space, then bursting out again with new fury.
*' We watched eagerly and waited, but no news came
back to us ; nor did General Gillmore himself seem to
receive any information from the front. Finally, as if
impatient of the delay, and anxious that no time should
be lost when help was called for, he ordered our brigade
forward to the outermost lines, — a mere sand-bag breast-
work, where a few pieces of artillery had lately been put
in position. We advanced in line of battle irregularly
enough over the marshy, uneven ground, in darkness so
thick that but a small part of the Ime could be seen at
once. Shell flew thickly over and around us, exploding
on all sides; but we were unharmed, and soon found our-
selves again under shelter, such as it was, several hundred
yards further to the front than before.
" The fight was still raging, but with less intensity than
an hour previous. Again we watched its varying aspect,
until at length a messenger came. ' Our forces were within
DEFEAT, 155
the fort, but needed support : Stevenson's brigade would
go forward.' Gladly we obeyed the summons; but the
execution of the order had been hardly commenced when
it was countermanded, and another of ill-bodino; sisinificance
substituted. We were again to form line, and stop all
stragglers who might endeavor to pass us. Few came.
Once or twice in the darkness, I saw a man moving toward
the rear. ' What are you doing here ? ' said I to one poor
fellow as I stopped him. 'I'm wounded,' said he, and,
knowing that I would not accept the threadbare excuse of
every straggler without proof, took my hand, and laid it
into the gory furrow plowed upon his head by some
fragment of shell. I didn't keep him long waiting.
Another was wounded in the leg, but still able to walk.
And so they came ; though most of those who could make
their own way back to hospital followed the beach down,
and we saw nothino; of them. Once a horrible chorus of
groans and shrieks rose from the direction of the water,
and then all was silent again. We were told afterward
that the ambulances, in the darkness, ran over some
wounded men.
"About eleven o'clock, a report was brought that we had
been successful ; and it was later than that before the firing
altogether ceased ; but by midnight there was very little
doubt that the result had been unfavorable. Once or twice
we were roused by the report of the sentries that move-
ments were to be seen upon the plain in front ; but we
156 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
were exceedingly weary, and I, at least, lost hardly a
moment after each story was pronounced false, before
sinking back into sound sleep."
The 10th not being engaged, the chaplain had turned
aside from his regiment, when the earliest wounded came
back from the assaultinp; column, to aid in carino; for them :
and he was separated from his friend until the dawning of
the gloomy sabbath morning which succeeded that night
of carnao-e and d'efeat. Their reojiment holdino; the outer-
O DO
most lines of defense, the friends could then see distinctly
the entire battle-field, with its scores of dead and wounded
yet uncared for, — the rising tide actually drowning some
of the poor fellows who were unable to crawl away to high-
er ground than the sand-hollows in which they lay; but
they could do nothing for the relief of any beyond their
lines. When, about noon, they were told by their com-
manding officer that a flag of truce which they had seen
pass out had secured a brief armistice, that the dead might
be buried and the wounded removed, the chaplain was glad
of an opportunity to go and minister to those who so sadly
needed help ; and Camp was ready to accompany him, as
always, — not only, in this instance, that he might be of ser-
vice, but in the hope of hearing of some college classmates,
who were from the vicinity of Charleston.
The friends went out, with the full approbation of their
superior officers, for a work, which, as the mission of one,
was the duty of both. They had no reason to anticipate
PBISONEBS. 157
exposure to capture, or deem their movement in any sense
venturesome. Passing a few rods beyond their pickets,
they met a Confederate sergeant with a squad of men, who
neither halted them nor seemed surprised at their advance.
Of him they inquired if the armistice still held. "I be-
lieve so," was his reply. To make the matter sure, they
asked for his officers. He pointed to a group close at hand ;
and, as the friends moved thither, one of the officers stepped
forward quickly with the remark, "Prisoners! gentle-
men." A statement being made as to the understood ar-
rangement and the object of the visit, the officer claimed
that the agreement covered only a cessation of hostilities,
for attention to dead and wounded by each party, within
their own lines, and insisted on considering the friends
as prisoners. They protested against being held under
such circumstances, while engaged in a humane work, at a
time of admitted amity, especially as the sergeant on what
was now claimed as the line had freely permitted them to
pass. One of the Charleston officers of the party was evi-
dently unwilling to have them detained ; but the captain on
General Haygood's staff, who had first stopped them, being
a renegade Northerner, had less of fairness, and refused to
release them until their case was laid before his general,
then in command of Fort Wagner. After considerable
delay, word came back, that, while General Hay good did not
wish to take any advantage of a misunderstanding in such
a matter, he could not assume the responsibility of releasing
158 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the friends now that they were held, without special au-
thority from General Kipley, at Charleston, to whom he
would submit their case. After two or three more hours
of anxious waiting, the friends were led blindfold along
the beach, past Fort Wagner, to Cummings's Point, where
they remained until sundown ; being told all the while that
the question as to their release was yet undecided. In the
evening, they, with other prisoners, including many wound-
ed, were taken up to Charleston by steamer, stopping for
awhile at Fort Sumter; being probably the last Union
officers at that world-renowned fortress before its destruc-
tion, a few weeks later. Reaching the city, they were
marched with the colored privates of the Massachusetts 54th
Regiment, amid the jeers of the populace, through the streets,
to the provost-marshal's. Thence they were taken to the
gloomy jail, and at ten o'clock at night thrust — twenty in
all — into a small and filthy room, without furniture, and not
large enough for all to find a place on the floor, without
overlapping one another. By special order from General
Ripley, the friends were to pass the night with the colored
privates, instead of with white officers ; but that was the
least annoyance which made their first night in prison so
sad and gloomy.
CHAPTER VIII.
PRISON LIFE AND ESCAPE.
TRANGrE sensations," wrote Camp, "are those
which a man experiences during his first hours in
prison. The consciousness of helplessness under
restraint produces a feeling of absolute suffocation, a night-
mare oppression, with a nervousness that makes it impos-
sible to sit or stand still, to concentrate the thoughts on
any subject, or to do any thing but pace up and down
the longest possible beat which the nai-row limits of con-
finement will afford.
" We were allowed in the morning to purchase some
bread, and a decoction of rye or barley as a substitute for
coffee. Early in the forenoon, Henry and I were removed
from the room in which we had slept, taken through long
corridors with their grated iron doors, up flight after flight
of massive stone stairs, to a room in one of the upper sto-
ries, — the quarters of imprisoned oflGicers. Here we found
the officers taken on Saturday night in the assault. . . .
" Henry and I had been congratulating one another that
we were together, speaking of how much harder to endure
all this would be but for our mutual help and sympathy ;
159
160 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
when, about the middle of the forenoon, an order came
detailing the captured chaplain and nineteen men to assist
in caring for the wounded at the hospital. It was a heavy
blow for us both. I would gladly have gone as one of the
nineteen ; but orders were strict that no officer should be in-
cluded in the number. We parted sadly enough, more so
than on the eve of battle ; for we had more apprehensions
for the future. Up to this hour, matters had not worn so
gloomy an aspect. Together, we had felt comparatively
strong ; in the prospect of separation, despondent enough.
The day dragged heavily along. ... At evening, the
non-commissioned officers and privates were taken down
into the prison-yard, paroled not to bear arras again un-
til exchanged, and returned to their cells. These were in
the same corridor with our own : all the doors within it were
kept open ; and we could pass freely among them. It was
rumored that they were to go to Columbia in the morning ;
whether we should accompany them we did not hear. Even
when we were all ordered down to the yard at five o'clock
the next morning, we thought it was only that our quarters
misht be cleaned. The roll was called, and we were
formed in line for a march. It was hard thus to be sepa-
rated so much farther from Henry, without the opportunity
of exchanging a word with him, so much as to say good-by.
Parting thus in an enemy's country, a hundred miles and
more of distance to be placed between us, the pros-
pect of our ever meeting again seemed doubtful and dis-
RICHLAND JAIL. 161
tant. He would not even know of my going until I was
far away : it was the climax of all I had dreaded. We
were marched to the dej)ot, put on board the cars, and the
train started almost immediately."
The party reached Columbia that night, and were taken
at once to Richland Jail, where they found the officers
captured in the first assault on Wagner.
" We and our new fellow-prisoners introduced ourselves
to one another," wrote Camp, " talked over, as in the
Charleston prison, all the news we brought ; and we speed-
ily began to feel ourselves comparatively at home in ac-
commodations far superior to those we had left. At three-
quarters past eight, the bell in the tower of the town-hall,
only a few rods distant, rung rapidly for a few minutes, —
the signal, we were told, for negroes to leave the streets.
As the clock struck the last stroke of nine, the watchman
in the balcony beneath it called aloud, with curious inflec-
tion of tone, ' Past nine o'clock ! ' We took the hint and
retired. At quarter past nine, the watchman's voice
sounded again, 'All's well ! ' In fifteen minutes more,
'Half-past nine o'clock!' Again, 'All's well!' Then,
'Past ten o'clock,' and so through the night, — though
for my part I hardly heard him once.
" The next day passed slowly. I was still exceedingly
nervous, and full of anxiety on account of my separation
from Henry. I spent a large part of the time pacing up
and down the room, and fancying what might be, and
11
162 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
might have been, until I was tired enough to sit down
upon the floor, and rest. I wrote to Henry that afternoon,
giving the letter to the captain of the guard, with that
which I wrote home."
In that letter to his friend, Camp said hopefully, —
* ' No one here seems to know of or believe in any inter-
ruption of the arrangements for exchange. * The Charles-
ton papers mention recent exchanges at the West, and I
hope we may be put rapidly around the track. Wouldn't
it be pleasant to meet on our own side of the lines within
two or three weeks ? I do not flatter myself that this is
certainly to be. I know that months of imprisonment and
separation may be before us ; but I tiy to look, as far as
it is reasonable to do so, upon the bright side, and suc-
ceed in this much better than at first. But for my anxiety
on your account I should be in good spirits : even as it is,
I do not call myself blue. We are both in God's hands.
He has dealt with us very kindly hitherto : let us trust
him for the future. I do believe that he will permit us
again to stand side by side in our country's service ; and,
whatever else may be his decree, that we shall see by and
by that all was for the best. I have been wont so to lean
upon you, that I feel sadly the loss of your support ; but
our attachment to one another o-rows stronf>-er throuo-h
trial, and there are bright days yet in store for us. Mean-
time, take courage. There is much to be done. I know
you will not break down, however hard the struggle. I
BE -UNION. 163
trust I shall not until we come * out of the shadow into
the sun.'
" By Thursday," continued Camp in his home-narra-
tive, "I had begun to settle down somewhat more into my
position. I contrived to find occupation for most of my
time ; and made up my mind that, if Henry and I were
only here together, we could not merely endure, but enjoy,
the life. I thought it all over : it was utterly impossible
that his services at the hospital would be dispensed with
until all the wounded were dead or convalescent. That
would be months, and the trial would be more than he
could endure : how doubtful the prospect of our ever
meetins: ao-ain ! That doubt, and nothino; else, made the
future too dark to bear anticipation. Friday morning,
about ten o'clock, the door opened, and he came in. Oh,
what a meeting for us that was ! I sha'n't try to tell you
any thing about it. The day was gone before we knew it,
and all that have followed have flown like it. Imprison-
ment is not tedious with him for a companion, I lean
upon him as everywhere, and he so much more than
doubles my strength ! We read together, write together,
whittle together, talk together, do every thing together.
The value of our friendship could hardly appear elsewhere
as it does here ; nowhere else could we be so thoroughly
inseparable or so greatly dependent upon one another.
' ' Our life is so different from that of those around us !
The ennui which oppresses them we know nothing about :
164 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
SO far from it, we have not time for all that we would do ;
and unfinished work accumulates from day to day. The
hardships we must undergo are so far lightened, that we
can fairly say that we enjoy prison-life. It won't do, here
in prison, to give even thought free scope, — not that
others attempt to limit it ; but we ourselves, for our own
sakes, must do so. I say we enjoy prison-life : it is be-
cause we will not think. If we allowed ourselves to
imagine what we are losing by absence from our regiment
at such a time as this, — the time and occasion to which we
have been looking forward for tedious months of inactiv-
ity, — the prospect of which has kept us cheerful and hope-
ful through many perplexities and disappointments (and
you know how bitter to me already is the thought of
Koanoke, Goldsborough, Whitehall, and Kinston) ; if we
dwelt upon the difl&culty, perhaps impossibility, of com-
municating with you ; our anxiety in regard to your health
and welfare, and that which we know you must be feeling
for us ; the loss we are sustaining in property, which none
in the regiment can attend to as is needful ; the doubtful
prospect of release in the unfortunate condition of affairs
between our own authorities and the Confederate, in re-
gard to prisoners-of-war ; the possibility of months or
even years of close confinement, — if we brooded over all
these, and the multitude of othSr subjects for sad thought,
we should drive ourselves crazy in twenty-four hours. It
took us some little time to learn this ; but now we under-
PRISOIf LIFE. 165
stand it, and manage to busy our tliougbts in great meas-
ure with the trivial matters of e very-day life in prison.
What is the quahty of the corn-bread this morning ? who
shall go after the pail of water? how long the sergeant
will allow us to stay in the yard for air and exercise ? —
these are the questions to which we give our attention.
When the mind craves more than this, we sit down to
write or talk on miscellaneous subjects. Nine or ten
hours for sleep, and so we live."
Henry Camp was a man of mark in prison as elsewhere.
The most haughty Southern officer with whom he came in
contact recognized his true nobility, and gave him defer-
ence ; while the more brutal of his guards were softened
into respectful treatment of him by the irresistible power
of his commanding presence. His fellow-prisoners respect-
ed and esteemed him. The treasures of his stored and
well-trained intellect were much in demand. In the lack
of books during the early prison months, frequent questions
of dispute arose as to points of fact, principles of science,
or subjects of general reading; and he was rarely referred
to in vain for authority as to the truth. German officers
were there; and, when their language was undertaken as a
study, they were surprised at his knowledge of its structure
and the rules governing its use, especially as he disavowed
any claim to be called a German scholar. He played chess,
and, although pitted against some skillful antagonists,
proved himself more thoroughly the master of the game
166 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
than any of bis opponents ; being often successful, single-
handed, against several of the best players in consultation.
His intimacy with the chaplain was closer, and, if pos-
sible, more noticeable, in prison than elsewhere. Outside,
the two had been called the "twins." In confinement,
the old negi^o woman who daily brought in rations spoke
of them uniformly as " de mates; " and they were thence-
forward thus designated by their companions. The guards
spoke to others by name, but to these as, " you two ; "
always allowing them liberty together, as if they had but
one existence. The chaplain was permitted to go out on the
sabbath into the yard, or up-stairs, to preach to the Union
privates. The officers, except Adjutant Camp, were not at
first allowed to attend these services. " You two can go, no-
body else," was the usual announcement. The friends
were rarely an arm's-length from each other in all their
months of confinement together. And while for weary
weeks the chaplain was low with jail-fever, as also when
he was disheartened and depressed with long confinement,
he owed, under God, his life and renewed strength to the
gentle and faithful ministry, and the inspmng words and
brave example, of his peerless friend.
But few Union officers have been confined in Columbia
Jail. Not more than about thirty were together there at
any time during the stay of the two friends. At first,
there were only those captured in the two assaults on
Wagner. Then Captain, now Lieutenant-Colonel Payne,
PEISOJ^ LIFE. 167
of the 100th New- York State Volunteers, was brought
in from the hospital; being wounded and taken in one
of his daring scouts up Charleston Harbor. Then came
the naval officers of the unsuccessful assaulting party
against Sumter, including Lieutenants S. W. Preston
and B. H. Porter, who lost their lives at Fort Fisher
so soon after their release. Chaplain Fowler, of Colonel
Higginson's First South - Carolina Regiment, was the
next new-comer. Few besides these have been there
within the past two years. The extensive prison-pens
outside the city were of later origin. The enlisted men
taken at Wagner, and the sailors and marines taken at
Sumter, remained but a short time at Columbia before
being forwarded to Belle Island to starve and freeze.
The rations furnished the officers were, at first, cooked
by colored women, coming in from outside by permission
of the guard ; then, as money grew scarce, the officers
cooked for themselves, taking turns in the kitchen a week
at a time. United-States treasury-notes were easily ex-
changed for Confederate currency, at the rate of one to
four or five, notwithstanding the rigid orders against such
barter. Newspapers were contraband for several months ;
but they could usually be obtained, in spite of official
commands to the contrary. Finally, permission was
granted for their daily purchase.
For awhile, there was a prospect of exchanges being re-
sumed ; but, as the chances of that diminished, plans of
168 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
escape were talked over. Camp chafed under a sense of
confinement, and in view of his loss of active service. " I
have put to you," he wrote home, "that side of prison-
life which is least dark ; but how gladly would I exchange
for this any imaginable privation or suffering in freedom !
My experience in or out of the army has never as yet
furnished any thing resembling it. God grant it never
again may if the end of this finds me still living ! Not
that I am especially blue just now : far more cheerful than
a great part of the time hitherto. I fully realize how
much worse off I might and may be ; but this is captivity,
— a word whose meaning I have but lately learned. . . .
Just now, it is not so much the mere fact of confinement,
as the knowledge that we are losing opportunities that life
can never replace. A day of freedom and activity in
times like these is worth a year of the old inaction which
used, you know, so to discontent me. But this is just the
one thing which it won't do for me to think or write of."
He determined to risk every thing in an attempt to
rejoin his regiment. The chaplain's sickness at first inter-
fered with the project : then the announcement that the
latter was to be released induced its postponement until
he should pass the lines, and send back certain desu'ed in-
formation.
Early in November, the two friends were separated by
the removal of the chaplain to Richmond for release. The
parting was a sad one to both, — scarcely less so to the
HOME THOUGHTS. 1G9
one wbo was to regain liberty by the change than to the
other who was to remain a prisoner. The hours would
have dragged even yet more wearily to the chaplain but
for his hope to secure, by untiring endeavor, his friend's
release on special parole.
On the sabbath evening before Thanksgiving, Camp
wi'ote in his one - page home - letter : ' ' Sabbath hours
drag even more slowly than those of the other days of the
week. To-day has been long : it is almost bed-time now.
We had singing earlier in the evening, — old familiar
hymns and tunes ; and I wondered if you were not
singing at the same time, as we used to, gathered around the
piano in the east room. You have gas there now : it
wouldn't look quite natural to me. I would like to sit in
the sofa-corner, almost in the dark, and hear Nellie and
Kate in that duet I always liked so much, — ' Far o'er
the wave ; ' and then join, all of us together, in ' Lenox,'
or ' Coronation,' or some of those stirring; old Methodist
melodies, winding up with ' Homeward bound.' Do
you remember our singing ' When shall we meet again ? '
the last sabbath evening that I was at home ? How little
we imagined then that Thanksgiving-week of this year
would find us separated by any such cause as now ! Thank
God that it is not death, which would have seemed so much
more probable ; and that we may yet hope another Thanks-
giving will find us together in an unbroken circle ! " [That
iiext Thanksgiving he passed in heaven.]
170 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
While the chaplain was laboring for his friend's release,
the latter was perfecting his plans of escape ; and, in a
little more than a month after the separation of the two,
he left the jail with a comrade : but, after a week in the
woods, both were recaptured, and remanded to their former
quarters. From Camp's full record of that exciting ad-
venture, written out in the leisure of later days in jail, the
following extracts are made : —
*' The possibility of escape was a subject of thought and
conversation among us quite early in our imprisonment.
After Henry's departure, I made up my mind to try the
experiment as soon as matters seemed ripe for it. The
reports of exchange just at hand, which coaxed us into
hope from week to week, for four months, no longer tan-
talized us. I was exceedingly restless and impatient.
There was scarcely a day of which I did not spend more
than one hour in thinking of the possibilities and proba-
bilities of tlie attempt ; and many a night did my bed-
fellow and I lie awake after others had gone to sleep, and
discuss the merits of various plans. I used to pace our
empty front-room, and think of the sluggish wretchedness
of our life here, and the joy of freedom gained by our own
efforts, — the same round of thought over and over again,
— until I was half wild with the sense of restraint and of
suffocation.
" Our plan, as finally agreed upon, was simple. Twice
during the day we were allowed half an hour in the yard
PLAN FOR ESCAPE. 171
for exercise ; being counted when we came in, or soon after,
to assure the sergeant of the guard that we were all present.
In this yard was a small brick building* consisting of
two rooms used as kitchens, — one by ourselves, the other
by the naval officers. The latter of these had a window
opening into a woodshed ; from which, part of the side being
torn away, there was access to a narrow space between
another small building and the jail-fence. Our intention
was to enter this kitchen during our half-hour of liberty,
as we were frequently in the habit of doing ; to talk with
those who were on duty for the day ; remain there after
the cooks had gone in, leaving lay-figures to be counted
in our stead by the sergeant ; thence through the woodshed,
and, by removing a board of the higii fence already loosened
for the purpose, into the adjoining premises, from which
we could easily gain the street. The latter part of the
movement — all of it, indeed, except the entrance into the
kitchen, where we were to remain quiet for several hours
— was to be executed after dark.
"The street once gained, my comrade and I intended
to take the railroad running northward along the banks
of the Broad River, follow it during the first night, while
our escape was still undiscovered, then strike as direct a
course as possible for the North-Carolina line. Through
the latter State, we hoped to make our way westward
* Shown in the engraving on the opposite page.
172 THE K NIGHTLY SOLDIETt.
across the mountains, where we slioald find friends as well
as enemies, ultimately reaching Burnside's lines in East
Tennessee. The distance to be passed over we estimated
at about three hundred miles ; the time which it would
occupy, at from twenty to thirty days. The difficulties in
our way were very great, the chances for and against us
we considered certainly no better than equal. What would
be the results of failure we could not anticipate : loss of
life certainly was not the least likely of them.
" Our preparations for such a trip were, of necessity,
few. We manufactured a couple of stout cloth haversacks,
in which, though hardly as large as the army pattern, we
were to carry ten days' provision, — each of us two dozen
hard-boiled eggs, and about six quarts of what we found
described in ' Marcy's Prairie Traveler ' as the most
nutritious and portable of all food, — corn parched and
ground, — just what we children used to call ' rokeeg.'
Besides a rubber-blanket to each, we concluded, for the
sake of lio'ht traveiino- to carry but a sino;le woolen one.
This, with one or two other articles of some bulk, we placed
in a wash-tub and covered with soiled clothes, in order to
convey them, without exciting suspicion, to the kitchen.
My baggage for the journey, besides what has already been
referred to, consisted of an extra pair of cotton socks,
a comb, toothbrush, and piece of soap, needle and thread,
a piece of stout cloth, a flask about one-third full of excel-
PLAN FOR ESCAPE. 173
lent brandy, a piece of lard, a paper of salt, pencil and
paper, and my home-photographs.
" Two dummies (or lay-jBgures) were to be made. The
first was a mere pile of blankets ; but its position in the
second story of our double-tier bedstead protected it from
close observation. For the second, I borrowed a pair of
pants, and for one foot found a cast-off shoe. The upper
part of the figures was covered with a blanket ; and the
face, with a silk handkerchief: attitude was carefully
attended to. I flattered myself that the man was enough
of a man for pretty sharp eyes, and was satisfied when
Lieutenant B. came in, and unsuspectingly addressed him
by the name of the ofiicer whose pants he wore. . . .
" After the last thing was done which could be done in
the way of preparation, time passed very slowly. I was
impatiently nervous, and spent the hours in pacing the
rooms and watchino; the slu2;2;ish clock-hands. The excite-
ment of anticipation was hardly less than that which I have
felt before an expected fight. The personal stake at issue
was little different."
Camp's comrade in this move was Captain V. B. Cham-
berlain, of the 7th Connecticut Volunteers. " Well-
informed (an ex - editor ) , plucky, and of excellent
physique, well calculated to endure hardship, and a good
swimmer. He was that day on duty in the kitchen. At
four, P.M., we went out as usual for exercise. Enterinp'
174 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the kitchen a few minutes before our half-hour had expired,
I concealed myself in a snug corner, before which one or
two towels, a huge tin boiler, and other convenient articles,
were so disposed as to render the shelter complete should
so unusual an event occur as a visit from the guard after
that hour. Here, like another Ivanhoe in the beleao;ured
castle, I received a running report of the course of events
outside from the culinary gentlemen, who had, in their
present costume and occupation, about as little resemblance
to United-States officers as to the fair Jewess of the
story.
" It was but a few minutes before the corporal, acting
for the day as sergeant, was seen to enter the room to
which all but the cooks and myself had returned. It was
Corporal Addison, alias ' Bull-Head,' — a lubberly English
clodhopper, looking just like the men in the illustrations
to Miss Hannah More's stories. Our confidence that all
would go well was based in great measure upon his stupidity ;
and it was with greatly increased apprehensions that I heard
that he was accompanied to-night by Captain Senn.
" Rather than pass the ordeal of a visit from him, had
we anticipated it, we should probably have deferred our
attempt another day, even at the risk of losing our chance
altogether. He opened the door and went in. I waited
anxiously to hear what would follow. He seemed to stay
longer than usual. Was there anything wrong? Suspense
lengthened the minutes ; but it was of no use to question
WAITING. 175
those who could see, while the door remained closed,
no more than myself. Presently I was told that the door
was open ; he was coming out ; there seemed to be no
alarm; he was stepping briskly toward the yard. We
breathed more freely. A moment more, and he was going
back, evidently dissatisfied with something. He re-entered
the room. 'It's all up,' said my reporter. I thought
myself that there was little doubt of it, and prepared, the
moment any sign of alarm appeared, to come from my
retreat, which I preferred to leave voluntarily rather than
with the assistance of a file of men. Too bad to be cauo;ht
at the very outset, without so much as a whiflf of the air
of freedom to compensate us for the results of detection !
But no : Captain Senn comes quietly out, walks leisurely
through the hail ; and his pipe is lit, — best evidence in the
world that all is tranquil, his mind undisturbed by any
thing startling or unexpected.
' ' But it was too soon to exult : congratulations were
cut short by sudden silence on the part of my friends.
I listened : it was broken by a step on the threshold, and
the voice of the captain close beside me. I didn't hold
my breath according to the established precedent in all
such cases ; but I sat for a little while as still as I did the
first time that ever my daguerreotype was taken ; then,
cautiously moving my head, I caught a view of the visitor
as he stood hardly more than at arm's-length from me.
He was merely on a tour of inspection ; asked a few
176 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
unimportant questions of the cooks, and, after a brief call,
took his leave. It was with more than mere physical
relief that I stretched myself, and took a new position in
my somewhat cramped quarters. Immediate danger was
over : we had nothing more to fear until the cooks went in.
We listened anxiously, until it seemed certain that all
danger from another visit and the discovery of Captain
Chamberlain's absence was over ; then sat down to wait
for a later hour. . . .
" After perhaps an hour of quiet, we set about what
little was to be done before we were ready to leave the
building, — the rolling of our blankets, not yet taken from
the tub in which they had been brought out, the filling of
our haversacks, &c. To do this in perfect silence was no
easy task. Any noise made was easily audible outside :
the window looking toward the jail had no sash, and the
blinds which closed it failed to meet in the center. A sentry
stood not far distant. More than once, startled by the
loud rattling of the paper which we were unwrapping from
our provisions, or the clatter of some dish inadvertently
touched in the darkness, we paused, and anxiously peeped
through the blinds to see if the sentry had noticed it.
The possibility of any one's being in the kitchen at that
hour was probably the last thought to enter his mind.
Many times we carefully felt our way around the room, —
stocking-foot and tip-toe, — searching for some article laid
down perhaps but a moment before, lost, without the aid
THE ESCAPE. 177
of eyesight to recover it, until at length we thought our-
selves ready to pass into the adjoining room, whose window
opened upon the woodshed.
" The only communication between these rooms was by
a small hole broken through the chimney-back, scarcely
large enough to admit the body, and with the passage
further embarrassed by the stoves on either side, so placed
that it was necessary to lie down, and move serpent- wise
for a considerable distance. Captain Chamberlain made the
fii-st attempt, and discovered that the door of the stove on
the opposite side had been left open, and wedged in that
position by the wood, crowded in for the morning's fire ; so
that the passage was effectually obstructed. The hole had.
to be enlarged by the tearing-away of more bricks, which,
as fast as removed, he handed to me to be laid on one side.
Patient labor at length made a sufiicient opening, and he
passed through. I handed to him the blankets, haversacks,
and shoes, and with some difiiculty followed."
The woodshed gained, the loosened board was removed
from the fence, and replaced after they had passed through.
Across a kitchen-garden they hurried to the open street
beyond, and then, without meeting any person, through
Columbia to the railroad.
"Reaching the iron track, we turned northward, and were
speedily out of sight of houses, fairly started upon our
journey through the country. I wish I could describe the
sensation of pleasure that thrilled through every fiber of
12
178 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
our frames "wich an exhilaration like that of wine ! After
five months of confinement, of constant and unavailing
chafino; under the o-allino; consciousness of restraint and of
helplessness, we could hardly realize that we were free ;
that we should not wake in the morning to find ourselves
within the narrow jail-limits, under the eyes and the orders
of our old sentries. To be again the masters of our own
acts was like being endowed with a new faculty. We
breathed deep and long. We could have shouted with the
excitement of each free step upon solid earth, each draught
of free air under the open sky. That first hour of liberty
would alone have paid for all the hardships we were to en-
counter. I shall have pleasant memory of it as long as I
live. Our path led us along the banks of Broad River,
the dash of whose waters was constantly in our ears, and
whose swift current we could often see in the clear star-
light, rushing down in rapids, or foaming around huge
rocks. Such sights and sounds we had not known since
we left our New-England homes ; and we enjoyed to the
full, not only these, but each bush that we passed, each
little stream that flowed across the way, each thicket of
dark undergrowtli, or hillside covered with forest, that lift-
ed itself beyond ; all was fresh to us.
*' It was a cold night, just the temperature, however, for
walking; and upon a good path we should have made rapid
progress. But the ties were laid upon the surface of the
ground, instead of being sunk, and were at the most incon-
THE ESCAPE. 179
venient distance possible from one another. This was not
the worst. Before we Lad gone two miles, we came to
what seemed to be a stream of some size, crossed by a tres-
tle-work bridge. We must pass it by stepping from tie
to tie. It was difficult to see in the darkness how far
beneath us the water flowed, but it was evidently at no in-
considerable depth ; and the light was none too strong to
enable us to plant our footsteps with a feeling of security.
We supposed, however, that a short distance would place
us again upon solid ground, and pushed on slowly and care-
fully. We were disappointed. Beyond the current of the
stream was a wide marsh, stretching as far as we could
see ; and across this lay our road : it was many minutes of
tedious traveling before we again reached firm footing.
While we were congratulating ourselves that our trouble
was over, we were cut short by a second bridge, of similar
structure, but higher, if any thing, than the first, and cer-
tainly longer. Beneath us, we could scarcely see any thing
save a black gulf, — before us the track vanishing at a few
rods' distance into darkness. To add to the difficulty, many
of the ties were rotten to such a degree that we dared not
trust our weight upon the center of them, many displaced
so that it was not easy to pass the chasm created by their
absence.
*' We walked on and on, expecting every minute to see
the end ; but no end came in sight : the distance seemed in-
terminable. I might overstate if I should attempt to esti-
180 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
mate accurately the length and number of these bridges
over which we passed during the night, the nervousness of
the task being increased toward morning by a heavy white-
frost, which made the footing still more uncertain ; but I
am sure that I am within bounds in reckoning them by
miles. ... As morning drew near, we were, of course,
far more fatigued than by any ordinary eight hours of walk-
ing ; and had made much less progress than we hoped to
make before daylight should render it necessary to take
shelter in the woods. We were both thoroughly exhaust-
ed with long-unaccustomed exercise, and could scarcely
walk without staggering. We looked at one another, and
were astonished at the haggard faces and weary forms
which we saw."
After some difficulty in finding a sufficiently secluded
place for a rest, they at length reached a spot which seemed
to answer their purpose.
" The roots of an uptorn tree upon one side, the trunk
of a fallen one upon another, with a sheltering hillock and
sun'ounding undergrowth, furnished us with such protec-
tion, that a passer-by, even within a few paces, would not
have been likely to see us. We were too tired to eat. We
spread a rubber-blanket upon the ground, a woolen one
over us, and, with our haversacks for pillows, were speed-
ily sleeping as we had not done before since we left Morris
Island, and exchanged a life of hard work for a harder one
of inaction. How long we had slept when I awoke I
THE ESCAPE. 181
could not tell ; but I was too thoroughly chilled to rest
longer. I listened before I raised my head, lest there
might be some one near. What was that crackling of the
dry leaves at a little distance ? I closed my eyes again
and lay still. Surely those were cautious footsteps that
seemed to draw near and halt, and then retreat again.
Then all was quiet. I woke Captain Chamberlain, telling
him I feared we were discovered, and perhaps at that mo-
ment watched. Even if we were, however, it was of no use
to wait ; and we rose. No one in sight. We searched the
bushes in the direction of the sound. No sign of any one's
having been there ; and, after a few minutes, we convinced
ourselves that it was a false alarm. It was not the only
one which we raised for one another during the day, ner-
vously suspicious as we were of every cracking bough,
every moving object. Once Captain Chamberlain pointed
out to me a soldier in gray uniform behind some bushes
only a few rods distant, evidently watching us. But, before
I could make him out, he resolved himself into his harm-
less components of tree-trunk and branch.
" We rolled our blankets in convenient form to slino;
across the shoulder, and, much refreshed, although with
joints somewhat stiff and lame, started again northward,
intending to halt for breakfast as soon as sunshine and ex-
ercise should warm our blood a little. It was not lon^c
before circulation was brisk again; and a sunny hillside
furnished us with a breakfast-room, which, to say the least
182 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
of it, compared favorably with that we had occupied the
morning before. Then we made the first trial of our pa-
tent provisions. The eggs, with salt for seasoning, were
capital ; but our stock was limited. We allowed ourselves
one each, — the bulk of our meal consistino; of the rokeeo;.
Palatable enough we found it, albeit somewhat dry ; and it
proved exceedingly nutritious. A day or two later, after
it had been dampened and dried again, partially at least,
it was almost entirely tasteless, and had no more relish or
even food-flavor than so much sawdust. AYe could only tell
when we had eaten enough by estimating the quantity
which had vanished or the time consumed in the operation.
Still it supported our strength as hardly any thing else in
the same quantity could have done ; and we were ready to
indorse Captain Marcy's recommendation of it.
" Eest and food had made new men of us : we pushed
cheerily along through wood, over hill, and across field.
The traveling was neither very difficult, nor easy enough
to admit of rapid progress. The woods were quite open,
and we frequently crossed cultivated land. Houses fre-
quently interrupted us ; and much time was consumed in
the long circuit we had to make to pass them without dan-
ger of being observed. The country was altogether too
thickly settled for our convenience. About two, p.m., we
found ourselves fairly brought to a stand-still, — open coun-
try before us with houses in sight, and no way of getting
through under cover.
THE ESCAPE. 183
*' We found an excellent shelter, well protected, although
near a road ; lay down behind an old long-neglected
wood-pile and slept again, woke, dined, and waited for
dark. As soon as it was fairly dusk, we started once
more upon our course. We soon reached a road, upon
which, during the afternoon, we had observed a rider mov-
ing along at some distance, — the first man we had seen
since leaving jail. We hesitated whether to follow this
route, or attempt to push through the woods in the dark.
We had not intended to venture upon the roads after the
first night, but considering the chance that our escape was
still undiscovered, and the difficulty of making any prog-
ress otherwise, we concluded to run the risk, exercisins:
the utmost possible caution with reference to avoiding any
whom we might meet."
Having a narrow escape from detection by a passing
horseman, they pressed on, until, across a curve in the road,
they saw the lights of a house, and their quick ears caught
the sound of steps and voices from within or near it.
" Approaching this place, in addition to the voices so
distinctly heard through the quiet night air, we could see
near it the bright glare of a fire kindled out of doors, —
perhaps a tar-kiln or a coal-pit blazing up. This we must
avoid, and we turned aside accordingly into the woods. It
was a tedious circuit that we had to make before we could
leave them safely. We stumbled over rock and fallen
tree, in the darkness of the dense undergrowth ; plunged
184 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
into brook and .swamp ; tore our way through wildernesses
of briers, from which we came out with bleeding hands and
tattered clothing, making so slow and so difficult progress,
that we were more than ever disposed, in the absence of
any positive evidence of danger, to keep the traveled route
whenever it was possible."
Thenceforward they followed the woods by day, and the
road by night. At the close of their second day's journey,
to their regret, it commenced to rain,
" At four, P.M., the first drops fell. Darkness came on
almost immediately, and we took an oblique direction
which we thought would bring us in a few minutes back
to the road which we had crossed shortly before dinner,
and parallel to which we had been traveling for several
hours. But either the road curved sharply from us, or
we had wandered further from it than we thought. We
reached a swamp, which certainly, from what we remem-
bered of the conformation of the land, ought not to lie be-
tween us and the line which we wished to strike. There
was no passage but to wade through. Dense thickets ob-
structed our way ; rain and darkness made each ob-
stacle more serious ; and we were additionally puzzled
by the possibility that a traveled path which we had
crossed some time before, thinking it from its appearance a
by-way, might have been the road itself, and that we were
now only plunging ourselves deeper and deeper into the
woods. Still we pushed on, unwilling to believe ourselves
FALSE ALARMS. 185
lost, and were greatly relieved, after a tedious and discour-
aging tramp, in coming out at length upon what was unmis-
takably the track for which we had been so long searching.
* ' The rain had not yet injured the walking, and we made
for a while rapid progress. Just after descending a gentle
hill, while crossing a stretch of low ground, we heard what
seemed to be the rattle of a cart on the slope behind us,
and the loud and distinct voice of a man callino; to his
oxen. We made all haste to shelter ourselves ; and, hav-
ing done so by lying down behind some logs near the
roadside, waited for the passage of the team. All was
still : not a sound of life anywhere to be heard. We
were almost ready to rise, thinking, in spite of our ears,
that we must have been mistaken ; when the voice, full
and clear, came once more down the road apparently close
at hand. We lay quiet : there were no indications of its
owner's approach. We waited patiently : nothing broke
the silence of the night, except the patter of the rain, and
the sighing of a low wind which accompanied it. Con-
vinced, at length, that it was useless to remain longer con-
cealed, we rose, and went on our way. It would be hardly
more than a fair exercise of the privilege belonging to
every chronicler of his own travels, to give to this South-
ern Sleepy Hollow its spectral darkey and fractious yoke
of goblin two-year-olds, which it deserves, and for which
the time and circumstances were fitting. I certainly know
of no other way of accounting for the facts just set forth.
186 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
' ' The roads were â– well furnished with guide-posts ; but
they were tall, and the pitchy darkness of the night made
it impossible to read their directions from the ground.
Half a dozen of these, with the assistance of a lift from
Captain Chamberlain's broad shoulders, I climbed during
the night, — awkward business enough, with their sharp
angles and smooth wet sides ; but the information they
gave lis was invaluable."
Two or three times in the course of the evenins; or
night, they were seen by passers on the road, without
special notice being taken of them. After more than
twenty miles of travel since the morning, they stopped in
the rain for greatly needed rest.
"At the division of two plantations, near a gateway, we
found at length a fence-angle, where, by laying across it
two or three rails, and bending down a couple of saplings,
we made for ourselves a seat, and a support upon which
we could rest our heads. Wrapping the woolen blanket
about us, throwino; one of the rubbers across our shoul-
ders, and drawing the other over our heads, we were toler-
ably protected from the rain, though not from the wind.
In this way, too, we could keep our provisions dry : had
we attempted to lie down, ourselves and our haversacks
would speedily have been drenched together.
" We dropped asleep, in spite of the cold, in a very few
minutes, and slept soundly for some time. Waking again
about two o'clock in the morning, we found ourselves
A STORM. 187
chilled to the bone, and suffering from a species of cramp
that made it impossible for us to remain longer in the posi-
tion where we were. There was no prospect, however, of
altering our situation for the better if we should move,
since it had been with difficulty that we had found even
our present resting-place. We opened our haversacks,
and food restored the blood in some degree to its circu-
lation. With this relief we contented ourselves as best we
could, and succeeded in falling asleep again. When we
woke once more, it was about four o'clock, still pitchy dark,
and still raining; but we determined to move on, — any
thing rather than remain where we were. We could hardly
rise from the rails on which we were sitting ; and, when
we attempted to walk, so cramped and numb was every
muscle, that it was with difficulty we could drag one foot
after the other. It was not my first experience of bivou-
ackino" under a winter's storm. Our North-Carolina cam-
paigns were in cold weather ; and some of the nights then
spent we thought at the time sufficiently hard : but none
of them compared with this. Exercise suppled our joints
somewhat ; but we had gained very little of strength or
rest during our halt, and we made our way slowly along
the road through mud deeper and more tenacious than it
had been at midnight. After a mile or two of this, we
were glad to find another resting-place, — a fence-corner,
much like that we had left ; and here we rested until it
began to grow light.
188 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
" Taking the path again, we came before long to a
large barn-yard, where one or two cows stood patiently-
waiting for the morning milking. It seemed a pity that
they should be compelled to wait longer for the lazy farmer
whose duty it was to attend to them. The natural kind-
ness of our dispositions prompted us at once to relieve
them, and save him from the disagreeable task, which he
was doubtless postponing, this rainy morning, later than
usual. With these benevolent motives, we began to climb
the barn-yard fence. But alas for our hopes of warm
milk ! Just at that moment the farmer vindicated his
character for early rising by coming in sight, dimly visible
through the mist, from behind a neighboring building. We
did not wait to explain our intentions, or to apologize for
the injustice we had done him, but executed a prompt
movement to the rear."
Finding a comfortable resting-place on a vine-shaded
offset, half-way down the steep side of a dense-wooded
ravine, above a small brook, they stopped, exhausted after
their wearisome night, to wait until the storm abated.
They built a fire, warmed their chilled limbs, partially
dried their blanket and clothing, and at the brook washed
their mire-coated stockings and shoes. Just before night,
the storm, which had slackened during the day, resumed
its force ; and soon the rain poured in such torrents as to
swell the brook to a sudden freshet. Again they were
drenched to the skin, and their haversack of provisions
DELAYS. 189
was thoroughly soaked. Later, the violence of the storm
subsided ; and they laid themselves down for the sleep
which they must have, rain or no rain. They slept ten
hours; and woke to find the sun shining in their faces
through the tree-tops, and a clear sky overhead. They
"were thoroughly rested and in good condition for travel."
The storm had cost them just one day, aside from the
delay growing out of the condition of the roads and
streams.
Pressing on, they were seen by two negro-boys, who
were apparently afraid of them, and hurried off. In the
afternoon, as they were concealed near a dwelling they
could not pass until night, a private coach was driven by,
then a country wagon ; and, later, a drover with cattle
went along the road near them.
At night they took in preference a by-road toward
Baton Rouge, to avoid the larger towns on the main route
northward; but this involved the dispensing with bridges
across streams. One stream they bridged with delay and
difficulty ; a second was not to be crossed in this way.
*' In vain we wearied ourselves tramping up and down
the half-liquid banks above and below ; it ran in a wide
turbid flood which it was useless to think of bridgins:.
It was a frosty December night ; the ground was begin-
ning to stiffen with the cold.- We hesitated. Had there
been any available resting-place near by, I fear we should
have been found upon the wrong side of the stream when
190 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER,
morning dawned ; but we saw none, and tbat decided us.
Making the necessary preparations, with much shivering
we plunged in. After all, it was not so fearfully cold, nor
was the water deep, save in a couple of holes, one near
either bank. More than one trip was necessary to trans-
port clothing, blankets, and provisions ; but it was soon
over, and glad enough we were that we had not postponed
the ugly job as we were tempted to. We were pretty
thoroughly benumbed ; but a little brandy (the only time
during our journey we had occasion to use it) assisted ex-
ercise in restoring the circulation, and in half an hour we
were as warm as ever. We traveled briskly that night,
and had accomplished a good distance when we turned
aside into the pine-woods on the left, built for ourselves a
booth of pine and cedar boughs, quite a luxurious lodging-
place, and slept till morning."
Passing Baton Rouge, they took the Pinckneyville
Road, and later turned toward Yorkville. The following
night, they crossed Turkey Creek, and were disposed to
attempt the passage of Broad River near Pinckneyville,
but, becoming confused as to the route in the darkness,
waited until morning. The weather grew colder, and they
suffered from its severity.
*' Our mornino; wakeninais were the most cheerless
moments of a day's experience. We woke, without the
rest which came only after exercise had brought us
warmth, numb and shivering; so that we could hardly
THE RECAPTURE. 191
roll our blankets or take the first few steps upon our
journey. There was not a night during our trip in which
we did not suffer from cold. This morning (sabbath) was
the coldest we had encountered."
They traveled until nearly noon, before finding just the
place for a safe rest. Then they slept several hours.
Resuming then* journey soon after dark they hoped within
forty-eight hours to be beyond the limits of South Carolina,
and in a region of comparative safety.
*' We had been walking an hour or two along an unfre-
quented road, when a negro rose apparently from a fence-
corner, and followed us at a distance of a few paces. We
slackened our gait to allow him to pass ; but he preserved
the same interval whether we moved fast or slow. While
we were still in doubt as to the meaning of these proceed-
ings, a horseman rode up in front, making his appearance
so suddenly, that even in the absence of our unwelcome
attendant we should hardly have had time to conceal our-
selves. He addressed us politely ; and, after a few embar-
rassing questions which indicated his suspicion of us, he
rode off at a gallop in the direction whence he had come.
We looked at one another in dismay. That he suspected
us and would soon return we had no doubt ; but there
were no woods at hand ; and, if there had been, it would
have been useless to enter them while dogged by our per-
severing follower. We were now opposite a gi'aveyard
of some size ; and it was evident from surrounding indica-
192 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
tions that we had come directly upon a village whose
existence we had not suspected.
" We had little time to consider : the sound of clattering
hoofs came down the road behind us, and our former friend
rode up with two companions. A few more questions
were asked, a footman coming up meantime to join the
party; and the horsemen rode on, leaving their companion
to walk behind us. We knew that our journey was at an
end. They were waiting for us at the gate of a house a
few hundred yards beyond ; reaching which, we were politely
invited to walk in and exhibit our papers, with the assur-
ance that they had authority for the request they made.
' Did we know any thing of some Yankee officers who had
recently escaped from Columbia?' We told them they
need trouble themselves no further : we were the men for
whom they were looking."
The recaptured officers were taken into the house, and
given seats before the fire. They found that hounds were
out in pursuit of them, and that the roads in every direc-
tion beyond were closely watched and guarded.
" The report of the capture of Yankee officers spread
like wildfire, and men gathered in for a look at the strange
sight, until the room was nearly filled. It was amusing to
see the curiosity manifested, and we felt specially compli-
mented by a remark of jNIr. McNeil's little girl, who had
evidently been on the lookout for horns and hoofs.
Finding us apparently harmless, she ventured timidly to
PRISONEBS. 193
the other side of the fireplace, and finally, after some
coaxing, came across and stood shyly by my side, while
I told her of my little sister at home, and astonished her
Tvith a small coin, the only specie, I will venture to say,
that had been seen for a long time in that part of the
Confederacy. She talked, like most Southern children,
an unmitigated negro dialect. * What sort of men did you
think Yanliees were ? ' asked I. ' I didn't tink,' said she,
* dey was dat good-lookin' ! '
" The conversation turned upon politics; and the whole
question of the war was discussed with perfect freedom on
both sides. We talked with the utmost plainness, and
were listened to courteously, though with a good deal of
surprise and some incredulity. In the graveyard of this
little hamlet, too small to occupy a place upon the map,
were the bodies of twenty-two Confederate soldiers ; and
there was hardly a man there but that either belonged to
the army or had a son or brother connected with it. Mr.
McNeil, our host, — - for we were treated rather as guests
than as prisoners, — was an elder of the Methodist Church.
Few of those who talked with us took a sanguine view of
their prospects ; and there were even indications that not
all would consider failure the worst of calamities. Most,
however, were thoroughly in earnest for continued resist-
ance ; nor, believing as they believed, should I have felt
differently. They appreciated our desire for freedom, and
were by no means disposed to blame us for attempting
13
194 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
to escape. Even our captors, in their sympathy for us,
seemed ahnost to regret that their duty compelled them
to put an end to our hopes of regaining liberty.
"After about an hour of conversation came the welcome
invitation to walk out to supper. This was served in a
small room upon the opposite side of the entry, warmed
only — since there was neither stove nor fireplace — by
the heat of the smoking dishes which stood upon the table.
A most attractive sight it was to us after months of prison-
fare, and a week of sawdust. Beefsteak, ham and eggs,
griddle-cakes, hot biscuit and fresh butter, wheat-coffee,
&c., a clean white table-cloth, and a servant to wait
upon table, seemed more homelike than any thing we had
seen for many a day. We had hardly known how cold
and hungry we were until we came within reach of warm
fii'e and appetizing food. Mr. McNeil's table looked as
if it were spread for half a dozen men ; and it looked, when
we left it, as if the half dozen had been there.
" Among other visitors to the house was a woman, who,
surveying us with a severe countenance, sharply inquired
of Captain Chamberlain, * what kind of weather he called
that for gathering broom-straws?' Captain Chamberlain,
to whom the drift of the question was not obvious, mildly
and with some wonderment replied, that it appeared to him
somewhat cold weather for any branch of out-door industry.
With a manner indicative of the utmost animosity, she pro-
ceeded to observe, that ' she would have us to know that
PBISOl^ERS. 195
gathering broom-straw was something she never had clone,
and, what was more, never would do ; net if she lived to be
a hundred years old, she wouldn't ! ' Against an attack so
vigorous and so mysterious, we were incapable of defense ;
and, after one or two remarks equally indignant and equally
incomprehensible, our assailant retired, evidently much
relieved in mind. It turned out that a party of five, to
which we were supposed to belong, had met her servant
in the field gathering broom-straw, and had taken it into
their heads to send her home, with a messaoje to her mis-
tress, that, if she wanted the article, she might come and
collect it herself. Their sins had been visited upon our
heads.
"We were assigned quarters for sleeping in the huge
feather-bed in the corner, while four men sat up through
the night as guard. Our couch was most luxurious, and
I was asleep before my head had been ten minutes on the
pillow. Captain Chamberlain, whose readiness and force
in argument had much impressed our listeners, and had
been repeatedly complimented during the evening, lay
awake long enough to hear some interesting remarks upon
the discussion, and their expression of wonder that men in
our circumstances could rest as quietly as we seemed to
be doing. For what reason I do not know, but it was not
for some time after our capture, even after our return to
Columbia, that the bitterness of disappointment came in
full force upon us.
196 TEE E^^IGHTLY SOLDIER.
*' After an excellent breakfast, preparations were made
to take us to Chesterville, sixteen miles distant, the near-
est place upon the railroad. We were between sixty and
seventy miles from Columbia, though we had traveled,
probably, about one hundred to reach the place of our
capture. We were accompanied by a guard of four men ;
so that we made quite a little cavalcade, mounted, some
upon horses and some upon mules. For security. Captain
Chamberlain and myself were each lashed by one ankle to
the stirrup-leather, — a precaution which had nearly resulted
seriously. Captain Chamberlain's horse taking sudden
fright simultaneously with another, both riders were thrown.
I thought for a moment that it was all up with my friend ;
but, happily, his saddle-girth had been broken, and tied
up, in true Southern style, with a cotton string. This
gave way as he fell, and freed him, saddle and all, from
the plunging horse. Not caring to run any further risk,
I had my saddle-girth unbuckled, and met the mishap I
might have expected. We stopped at a stream for a drink
of water. I forgot the insecurity of my seat, and, leaning
forward to receive a cup of water, threw my weight too
far to one side. The saddle slipped ; once displaced, it
was in vain that I attempted to regain balance. Slowly, if
not gi-acefully, we slid off to the ground ; and the lashing
had to be unloosed before I could remount. Our route
led through a thickly settled region ; and we were objects
CHESTERVILLE JAIL. 197
of no little curiosity to those who saw us as we passed, or
met us upon the road."
Reaching Chesterville, they were taken to the jail, fol-
lowed by a constantly increasing crowd of townspeople.
A cell was assi2;ned them.
" It was exceedingly filthy and repulsive in its appear-
ance. Upon the floor lay a tumbled heap of rags, scraps
of carpeting, torn bagging, &c., which had evidently formed
the bedding of the last inmate. Kn old pitcher stood in
one comer. Of furniture, there was none whatever. The
walls upon three sides were of heavy planking, well whit-
tled, and ornamented with every variety of illustrations
in charcoal, with now and then a long tally where some
wretched occupant had kept weary account of the days of
his imprisonment. The fourth side, opposite the door, was
composed entirely of iron grating ; so that every corner of
the room could be inspected from the passage which ran
around each tier of cells. We hoped that here we should
at least have refuge from the not uniformly courteous curi-
osity of the crowd which had gathered around us ; whose
persistent gaze, as they followed us up stairs, and peeped
through the small aperture in the door, we endeavored to
avoid by stepping out of the range of vision which it
afibrded. But they were not to be balked in that way ;
and, in a moment more, were rushing into the passage-way,
outside the grating, with looks and words of exultation
198 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIEE.
tbat we could no longer evade them. We were fairly on
exhibition. There they stood, and gazed through the bars,
as at the wild animals in a menagerie ; while we paced up
and down our narrow limits with a restlessness which did
not impair the likeness. The unwillingness we had shown
to gratify them, no doubt, increased their natural good-
will toward Yankees ; and questions and comments were
by no means as few as the answers they received. At
length the jail was cleared, and we were left to our-
selves." ...
A better room was assigned them.
"McDonnell the jailer, and one of his neighbors, a
physician, spent the evening with us. The former was
confident that, if he could have a few days' opportunity for
discussion, he could turn us from the error of our ways,
and convince us of the justice of the Confederate cause.
We expressed some doubt on the subject ; but he knew
there was no question about it. Just let him explain the
cause to us, and we couldn't help seeing that we were all
wrong. He labored with us faithfully, albeit with a very
misty comprehension of the theories he was endeavoring
to establish, and a very slender knowledge of the facts at
their basis ; was in no whit discouraged by our flat denial
of his premises or disproval of his conclusions ; and we
left him, at our departure, in the full belief, that, if he
could only have had a little more time, he should infallibly
have made sound rebels of us.
THE JAILER'S FAMILY. 199
" Blankets were sent to us in the course of the evenlns; ;
and we slept very comfortably upon the floor before the
fire. Wo had seen durins; the afternoon and evenino; most
of the members of McDonnell's family. His eldest son,
just below conscript age, but expecting to be drafted as
soon as his birth-day came, was a very kind-hearted fellow.
He executed commissions in town for us ; lent us books ;
and, in every way, exerted himself to oblige us. He was
entirely free from the boisterous bluster so apt to charac-
terize those of his class and age, nor did we hear an oath
from his lips. In both respects, he was a marked contrast
to his little brother of six or seven years, who, hardly able
to speak plainly, lisped out torrents of profanity ; and was,
in every thing but size, a well-developed bully. The
mother, who had brought up the former, died in the latter's
infancy. Miss McDonnell, a young woman of seventeen
or eighteen, did not pay us the compliment of a call in
person, but sent up by a negro girl a piece of pine, with a
message, rather a command than a request, that she desired
some crosses, or other specimens of carving, — an art at
which she evidently supposed every Yankee an expert by
birth. Regretting to disappoint a lady, we sent back
word that we were not mechanics.
" There was a little girl of eight or nine years, who,
when she heard that we belonged to the Northern army,
came to our door to inquire, with touching anxiety, if
we knew any thing of her brother, — one of the missing
200 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
at the battle of Malvern Hill. He had been, it seemed,
among those whom Magruder sent to that desperate charge
upon the batteries manned by the First Connecticut Ar-
tillery, — repulsed with the most terrible slaughter of all
that bloody campaign. He was seen lying wounded upon
the gi'ound ; beyond that, all inquiries as to his fate had
been in vain. . . .
"I called McDonnell good-natured, and so he showed
himself uniformly toward us ; but it was the good-nature
of a beast, needing only provocation to turn it into ferocity.
He was telling us of various attempts to escape from jail ;
among others, one of a negro, who, in so doing, broke or
otherwise injured some of the jail property. ' I gin that
nigger,' said he, 'rather a light Hoggin'. Cut him up
some; but he didn't think as 'twas anyways different
from a common floo-o-in'. But when I came to wash him
down, instead of brine, I washed him down with red pep-
per ; poured it right on to the raw, good and strong. Then
he knew what I meant. Pretty nigh killed the old
nigger ! ' This story he related without the slightest
apparent idea that it was otherwise than creditable to him.
We had been rather amused with the man hitherto ; but
this was enough for us.
" During the next day, we received a call from two or
three gentlemen, — one of them a graduate of Princeton ;
another, the editor of the ' Chesterville Standard.' They
were curious, they said, to see some Northerners who were
COLUMBIA JAIL. 201
not tired of the war ; and wished to learn something of
the state of public sentiment among us. A lively discus-
sion followed, conducted with the same freedom as those
in which we had engaged before. These, however, were
different antagonists from our country friends, familiar
with the North and its people, and well-informed upon the
questions at issue. Bitter almost to desperation in their
hostility to Government, men of influence and standing,
they were fair samples of the class which keeps South
Carolina in her present position. Our Princeton friend
became somewhat excited by the plainness with which we
laid down the programme of subjugation, and our confi-
dence in its success, though he did not allow himself to
be led into discourtesy, and finally left the room in advance
of his friends."
In the afternoon, Lieutenant Belcher of the Columbia
Post-Guard arrived with a guard to escort the prisoners
to their old place of confinement. He bound the elbows
of both, and then tied them together. Thus secured, they
journeyed by cars to Columbia, and were marched from
the depot through the streets of that city.
" Fifteen or twenty minutes' walk brought us to familiar
places. There was the market-house, at which we had so
often gazed from our barred windows ; the street through
which we had passed in going for water ; then the old jail,
upon which we had hoped never again to look. We en-
tered its door, and our journeyings were at an end. We
202 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIEB.
were usbered into a room which had been used for the
confinement of conscripts, adjoining that which we had
previously occupied. Here we were unbound for the first
time since leaving Chesterville, and left to ourselves.
Captain Senn soon called upon us. He was in a state of
considerable excitement. Our escape, he said, had nearly
ruined him; and he accused us of having abused the
privileges which had been gTanted us. We regretted
having caused him inconvenience ; but the charge we, of
course, most emphatically repelled. Calming down, he
expressed much curiosity, as Lieutenant Belcher had be-
fore, to know how we had contrived to escape. He had
counted us himself the evening before ;. and how we could
have left the building between that time and the next
morning he could not imagine. The confidence with
which he spoke of our presence at the evening count, when
we were so snugly ensconced in the cook-room, was amusing
enough ; but we declined to enter into any explanations. . .
" We entered our new quarters upon the 23d of De-
cember, having been absent from Columbia a little more than
eight days. But one of us at a time was jDcrmitted to
pass the threshold ; and then under charge of an armed
guard, who was responsible for us until we were again
locked up. It was now that we began to realize the dis-
appointment of our failure. Time dragged heavily: release
seemed more distant than ever before. Yet there was
not that restless torture of impatience which had before
OLD QUARTERS. 203
taken such complete possession of me. There was no
longer an untried possibility to mock me with hope. There
was a satisfaction in feeling that I had done my utmost ;
and I could bend my mind to the thought of patient en-
durance, as it was impossible for me to do while it seemed
that effort might yet accomplish something. . . . On the
last day of the old year came an order for us to return to
our old quarters to make room for Lieutenant-Commander
Wilhams and Ensign Porter of the navy [the gallant
officer afterward killed in the assault on Fort Fisher],
consigned to close confinement in irons as hostages for the
treatment of certain Confederate prisoners in the hands of
the United-States authorities. We regretted to owe our
advantage to their misfortune; but, fortunately for us,
this arrangement of rooms was the only one practicable ;
and, after eight days of seclusion, we rejoined our com-
panions, and entered upon the year 1864 in cncumstances
almost precisely the same as those of the period preceding
our escape.
" The whole affair, though it resulted in failure, was
one which I by no means regret. So far from considering
the attempt rash or hopeless, I was, as you know, on the
point of repeating it a few days since, and with excellent
prospects, as I think, of success. It broke the monotony
of my imprisonment with a week of stu-ring excitement.
The exhilaration of freedom and activity amply repaid the
accompanying hardships ; and I have an experience upon
204 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
which I shall always look back with pleasure in its con-
trast with the dreary months which preceded and followed
it."
It was not long after his return to confinement that Camp
received a large box of home-comforts, — clothing, books,
provisions, cooking utensils, &c., — sent to him imme-
diately after the chaplain's release. Besides all that was
apparent to the eye, the box contained letters, maps, a
compass, and other things desirable to a prisoner, so con-
cealed as to escape the rigid scrutiny of the Confederate
officials. The arrival of the box — the first from home,
and so long on its passage that it had been almost de-
spaired of — was quite an event to the lonely prisoner. His
words of grateful joy in acknowledging it indicate more
clearly by contrast the gloom and sadness of ordinary
prison-life than any thing he wrote of his trials and discom-
forts. To his home-friends he said, "It has come! of
course I mean the box, — and what a box ! Like Blitz's
bottle, every thing that any one could ask for or think of
came out of it, and a thousand things beside of which I
never should have thought, — yet not one superfluous. If I
should take up the contents in detail, they would furnish
me with more really new subject-matter than all that I've
written about hitherto since last July : its arrival is the great
event of the season. Soberly, you can hardly imagine the
importance which such an affair assumes in such a life as this
THE BOX FROM HOME. 205
we lead here, so utterly monotonous and destitute of inter-
est. And that box would have been no trifle anywhere to
any one away from home and friends. 1 fussed over it and
what it contained for two entire days, attending to hardly
any thing else, and only began yesterday to settle down
again into routine. Indeed, for a little while, thoroughly as I
enjoyed the surprises of each new and the associations of
each famihar article, I was perversely and ungratefully
blue, simply from disconnecting myself so entirely in
thought from prison-life, and then finding it forced back
upon me."
To the chaplain he added : —
" Oh ! this cramped page, this lifeless ink-talk ! You
know what I would say and what I would do if I were
with you. God grant that I soon may be ! Then the box,
so full of evidence of your thoughtful kindness ! — who but
you would ever have thought of one-half the little articles
which make no great figure in an invoice, but are the most
valuable of all, because they bring dear ones at the first
glance before one's very eyes ? Who but you could have
known precisely what I wanted, and anticipated requests
already made, but which you had never seen ? I wish we
could look over that box together. I want to talk over
each article of fifty with you, — and how much have I to say
besides ! The skill shown in the selection, the abundance
of every desirable thing, and the absence of every super-
206
THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER,
fluous one, so as to make the Tvhole a complete outfit for
prison house-keeping, astonished the rest, and surprised
even me who knew your ways, and expected to be surprised.
" If I could only write, — only speak! — but I never
could do either."
CHAPTEH IX.
LIBBY PRISON, CAMP PAROLE, HOIME.
FTER more than three months of siege-work on
Morris Island, the 10th Kegiment was ordered to
St. Augustine, Fla., to recruit for a season. The
chaplain rejoined it there. It was a satisfaction to Camp to
know that the regiment was thus, in his absence, removed
from the probabilities of immediate battle. This point
was one on which he was always anxious.
" The one addition to the trials of imprisonment which
I am now dreading," he wrote in the opening spring, " is
to hear that the regiment has gone into active service with-
out me. All else I have become in a measure inured to, —
that will come fresh upon me."
He could not rest in prison. Time was too precious in
his estimation.
" A year or a half-year," he said, ** is no inconsiderable
fraction of any man's life. I would be doing ; and I am
not even preparing. Were my future so settled that I
could study with reference to it, my time need not be wholly
lost. But I sadly fear that neither German nor phonog-
raphy [both of which he was studying in prison] will
207
208 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
ever be of mucli practical benefit to me. Still, I have
never regretted for one instant the course I have chosen.
I do not think I ever shall ; but trust to see by and by how
all has been for the best."
Rumors as to exchange-negotiations were very tantalizino-.
The rebel officials declared to the captured officers their
desire for a release of the prisoners on both sides ; and
the precise reasons for delay were never clear to the anxious
and interested captives, closely as they watched the corre-
spondence of the commissioners.
*' Matters look very dark to us just now," wrote Camp.
*' Of course we would die here to a man, rather than have
Government yield any point involving honor or good faith ;
but, with no more than our present information, it is im-
possible to understand why, without any such sacrifice,
arrangements can not be made which would set us at
liberty."
When the matter was in General Butler's hands, there
was strong hope of an immediate settlement.
" "We have made up our minds to be exchanged," Camp
wrote at that time; "and, if the affiiir does fall through,
you may put strychnine for thirty-one in the next box you
send."
But again there was an interruption of the negotiations.
" This suspense is very trying," he then wrote. " We
feel like the three egg-gatherers of the Orkneys, whose
story used to be in the school-readers, — our rope seems to
A SECOND FAILURE. 209
be parting while we yet swing half-way clown the preci-
pice ; and it is a desperate chance whether the last strand
holds long enough to bring us to the top." Many a poor
sufferer dropped from the rope into the dark abyss beneath ;
and many more came to crave death as an alternative of
prolonged suspense and suffering in captivity. ** If cap-
ture is not to be followed by release," said Camp sadly,
" a prisoner loses little by death."
Another escape was contemplated. The plan was made
by the navy officers ; but Adjutant Camp was to be one of
those profiting by it. A tunnel was dug from under the
hearth in the navy-room, beneath the yard, toward the cel-
lar of a neio;hborino; house, whence unobserved eo;res3
might with safety have been secured. The tunnel was
dug at the rate of two or three feet a night ; the removed
earth being spread under the jail-floor. Steadily the work
progressed, and the hearts of weary prisoners beat with
high hope. But, when only work for a single night re-
mained unfinished, the tunnel was discovered ; and the
whole plan was a failure. Then army and navy officers
were together removed to an upper story of the jail, and
their privileges greatly restricted. Yet other plans of es-
cape were proposed, and would doubtless have been
attempted by Camp, had he remained longer a prisoner.
The efforts of those having influence for Camp's release
were at length successful. An order reached Columbia
about the middle of April for the latter' s removal to Rich-
14
210 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
mond. He was infoniiecl of it by the post-adjutant as he
came in one morning from the yard at the close of the
houi' of exercise. The order did not specify that he was
to be exchanged ; but he had reason to hope that that was
its meaning, and his joyful surprise was for a time quite
bewildering. He was sent forward at once under guard,
by the way of Charlotte, Weldon, and Petersburg, enjoying
again the long-forbidden sight of open country, and having
ample opportunities of observing rebels in rebeldom, during
the frequent stops by the way, and on the crowded cars.
At Petersburg, connection was missed with the Rich-
mond train ; and, lest he should lose one trip of the flag-
of-truce boat by the delay, he proposed to hu-e a carriage,
and hurry forward over the turnpike the twenty-three re-
maining miles. The guard was well pleased with this
arrangement, as it would expedite his return to Columbia ;
but, on going to a livery-stable, they found three hundred
dollars to be the cost of a hack for the distance. Even
accustomed as he was to Southern prices, that charge
rather took Camp's breath away, as he said afterward.
Several hours of unsuccessful hunting for humbler con-
veyances satisfied him that, if he should at length suc-
ceed in finding any team, its price would be quite beyond
his means. So he went with his guard to the Bolingbroke
House to wait for the next regular train. His experience,
after reaching Richmond, he thus narrated to the chap-
lain : —
LIBBY PRISON. 211
*'I was despatched, under guard, to the Libby, march-
ing at the head of a squad of rebs destined to Castle
Thunder. My baggage, which had undergone a merely
nominal examination by Lieutenant Belcher, at Columbia,
received about the same here ; the sergeant observing
inquiringly, that he ' supposed I had nothing contraband
there ? ' Somewhat doubtful as to the character of my
hidden journal, I replied, that I didn't think he'd find any
thing of that kind there, — and he didn't.
"A ladder, substituted some months since for the stairs,
was the means of communication with the upper regions.
Ascending this, I was at once surrounded by inquirers as
to the character of the last haul, and conducted at once to
the room where most of the Connecticut officers were
quai'tered. You can imagine better than I can tell how
strange the scene appeared to me. You remember the
crowded rooms, the bustle, the confusion, the contrast in
every point, with our old Columbia place of confinement.
"After I had been introduced, and shown the cui'iosi-
ties, — bone-work, sketch for lithograph, «&c., — I was con-
sidered naturalized, and fit to take care of myself. . . . Our
mess took two meals a day, as in Columbia ; using none
of the prison-rations, except occasionally a little meal, liv-
ing exclusively upon the contents of boxes from home.
Before I left, their supplies were well-nigh exhausted;
and we were eking them out with the prison corn-bread,
regardless of the mice, baked whole, in it. After the first
212 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
few days, we took turns in cooking. I won't ask odds
from any Biddy in the country on a loaf of good wheat
bread, — which is, I believe, the test above all others of
an accomplished cook, reasoning a fortiori.
" Boxes were issued a day or two after my arrival. I
attended in the lower room, thinking it just possible that
mine might be among them. A blanket was spread on
the floor, and the contents of a box pitched into it (the
box being then carried away), — sugar, shii'ts, apple-sauce,
boots, cofltee, blacking, peaches, and stationery, — all in
one indiscriminate pile. Every thing had been thoroughly
overhauled, and much stolen. A bag would be torn in
preference to untying the string which secured its mouth.
Cans of milk or preserved fruit were punched to ascertain
the contents. ... I read a little, played chess a little,
sketched a little, cooked a little, paced the lower room a
good deal. . . .
" I was warned upon my arrival against standing at
the windows. Any one who showed his head to the guard
below was liable to be shot. But the exposure was a com-
mon thing. Now and then some particularly savage guard
would evidently be watching his chance for a shot at a
Yankee, — and all would be careful, — tantalizing him now
and then with a capital opportunity if he had only been
ready for it, but with a prudent regard to the length of
time which it would take him to come to an aim.
" There was a story that we were all to be sent to
RELEASE. 213
Georgia ; and it was doubtful whether that was not prefer-
able to the starvation which would certainly be the result
of our presence at Richmond during a siege, however
short, and the possibility (much more than what some
thought it) of being blown up, rather than allowed to fall
into Union hands. Altogether we were gi-owing daily
less hopeful ; and, about the end of April, had reached
a decided shade of blue. When, on Friday, the 29th,
the old story of ' boat up * came, with better authority,
apparently, than usual, I only thought that, if it was true,
it was in so far encourao;ino; that we mio;ht receive some
news. So I went quietly to bed, little thinking that it
was my last night in prison.
*' I was roused from a doze the next morning, by hearing
a list of names which was being read, in a distinct voice,
in the center of the room. All the possibilities flashed
upon me at once. I sat up in bed, wide awake. ' What
names are those ? ' I inquired. ' Names of those who are
going in this boat,' replied Lieutenant Carpenter. So there
were officers going. My breath came a little thick, and
bow I listened ! I had missed one or two at the beginning,
but no matter ; he was still reading names of field-officers.
Then came captains, — a dozen or so; lieutenants; then
an adjutant; and lieutenants again. If there had been
more than one adjutant, wouldn't they have been put
together ? ' Lieutenant H. W. Hamp I ' A thrill ran
throuo;h me. Did he mean me ? It must be ; but it
214 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
wouldn't do for me to allow myself to think so. I wouldn't
think so until I had asked him.
" As he read the last name and turned away, I jumped
to my feet, followed him, and laid my hand upon his
shoulder. It was Captain Dick Turner, the inspector.
He turned, somewhat surprised apparently, at my appear-
ance, as well he might be : my toilet had not been elaborate,
and was deficient in a few minor articles, such as pants
and stockings. ' There was one name,' said I, ' which I
am not sure I understood, — Hamp, I think you called it/
He opened the list : my eye ran down the page in the tenth
part of a second. There it was, — a little too much
flourish, — 'Camp, lieutenant and adjutant,' but no
room for any doubt. I took a good breath. By and by
he found it : it was close to the bottom of the page.
' Camp is my name,' said I : ' is not that what it is meant
for ? ' ' That your name ? Yes : Camp, — that's right.'
I walked back with a wonderful feeling pervading me;
not so much an intelligent and definite sense of joy as a
consciousness of being half-intoxicated, with a necessity
of putting myself under restraint lest I should do some-
thing absurd. It was the inability of my mind instantly
to take in and realize the significance of what had
passed.
"I had been told that the names of those who went
before had been read an hour or two before they started ;
had no doubt that there was plenty of time before me, and
RELEASE. 215
leisurely slipping on pants, stockings, and shoes, started
for the lower east room to wash before roll-call. Passing
the stairs, I noticed a crowd around them, and in a moment
more heard some one say, ' They've all gone down now ! '
If I were to be left ! You can imagine that grass didn't
grow under my feet before I stood in the office, overcoat
on, and valise in hand, — the latter fortunately already
packed. I was not the last after all, and should have had
time to make my toilet, though without many minutes to
spare.
" Those who preceded me, and they were nearly all,
were drawn up in line in the lower hall. While we stood
there another officer came down. The name of Stewart
was on the list, and had been answered to : but his name
was Stewart as well ; was not he the man ? How number
one looked at him ! But there had been no mistake this
time ; and number two, poor fellow, sadly went back up
the stairs to his prison. It was enough to make one
shudder, like seeing a drowning man clutch at the plank
which floats your head above water, miss it, and sink.
* ' The parole was read to us, not to serve until ' exchanged
under the cartel of July, 1862 ; ' and we signed it in dupli-
cate. We passed through a door leading to the outer hall,
one by one ; each answering affirmatively the question,
' You declare, upon your honor as an officer and a gentle-
man, that you have no letter or paper from any person ? '
and there was no examination. Forming by fours in the
216 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
street, while the guard were drawn up around us, we waited
for some time, while those within shouted messages, con-
gi-atulations, and farewells to us. Every window in the
building was crowded with faces pressed close to the iron
bars. It was a sad sight : the prison looks far more terri-
ble and j)i'ison-like without than within, where, as the
' Examiner ' said one day, it resembles the interior of a
grocery-store more than any thing else.
" Marching to the landing, we went on board the
* Allison' ; and, after some delay, started down the river at
half-past eight. Three hundred sick men were with us ;
and they were an awful sight, in their disease and filth.
Stretched upon deck, without blanket or overcoat, some
looked as if they would die where they lay. There were
piles of mattresses lying close by ; but these were not to be
used : they were for the rebel sick upon the return trip.
I saw them spread oefore I left the boat at City Point.
One poor fellow was deranged, and had to be caught two
or three times as he wandered about the boat, and returned
to those who were carino; for him.
"It was half-past twelve when we reached City Point,
and saw for the first time in many months the stars and
stripes, as they floated above the * New York,' which lay
there at anchor. I used to think that enthusiasm for the
flag was principally a manufactured article, and indulged a
philosophical contempt for those who allowed a material
object to occupy the place in their minds which should be
JOYFUL MEETING. 211
filled by tbe abstract principle. But I shall have charity
henceforth for all Fourth-of-July orators, knowing myself
better than I did ; and honest feeling, even if it flies the
spread eagle a little too high for my taste, shall have
cheers instead of sneers from me. It was some two hours
before the transfer of prisoners was accomplished, and I
stepped upon our own boat, free. You know how I felt ! "
At the very time when Camp was hunting after a con-
veyance from Petersburg to Richmond, his regiment was
embarking from St. Augustine for Virginia. While he
was in the Libby, it was at the Gloucester-Point rendez-
vous of the newly formed Army of the James. When he
reached Fortress Mom-oe by the flag-of-truce boat from
City Point, on the evening of May 1, he was met by
Chaplain Trumbull, who was waiting his arrival. The
joy of that meeting, oh ! who can tell ?
After the interview, which was but brief, as the boat was
on its way to Annapolis, Camp wrote : —
"You have just left me, and I am still in a maze, —
whether in the body or out of the body I can hardly
tell. So joyful and so astonishing a surprise! For
though I had thought of your being in Virginia, as a
possibility, I supposed you were still in St. Augustine ;
and nothino; under heaven could have seemed further be-
yond the range of hope than to actually see you and
talk with you to-night. Oh, if we could have a little
longer time ! . . . Thank God that he has gi'anted us so
218 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
much ! What would I have given, three days ago, for the
assurance of it ! and the spirit of complaint, which, even
now, I can hardly repress, is too ungrateful. I am a
thousand times happier than I deserve to be, — almost as
happy as I could be. My cup is full : I won't ask to
have it overflow."
Two days later, writing from Annapohs, where he was
delayed nearly a week, he said, —
" I have enjoyed your letter greatly : it is yourself a lit-
tle way off, it is true, but seen through clear atmosphere,
and not the smoked glass of a prison-page toned down to
pass rebel inspection. But, oh ! how I used to prize the
dimmer pictures in the midst of my darkness !
" I am just beginning to realize that I am free. Until
within a few hours, the jesting cry of ' Boat up, three hun-
dred ofl&cers on board,' would send the same thrill through
me which it did at the Libby. I have still a great respect
for enlisted men on duty, and half expect some of them to
take me in charge as I pass through the streets. My hand
doesn't rise to a salute spontaneously : it requires a distinct
volition. Did you jump at once back to your old posi-
tion?"
Camp's fear then was that his regiment would be en-
gaged before he could rejoin it. He was yet only paroled,
and he longed for a full exchange. " There is a captain
here," he writes, " who has been paroled, and for whom
General Butler is going to arrange with Judge Ould a
AT HOME. 219
special exchange. I wish he'd put my name on the same
paper. Uncle Sam may take back my leave of absence,
and 111 throw in the half-pay, and all he owes me too."
The 10th Regiment left Gloucester Point, May 4th, as-
cended the James with General Butler's expedition, and
landed, on the morning of the 6th, at Bermuda Hundred.
On the 7th, it participated in the first attack on the Peters-
burg and Richmond Railroad. The news of this fight was
received by Camp just after he reached his home from
which he had been so long and sadly separated. Even in
the fullness of his joy at that re-union, he could not repress
the desire to be with his regiment at the front ; and his af-
fectionate anxiety for his friend manifested itself freely in
his letters.
" I know just how you feel about exposure in battle,"
he wrote. " If I could be there, we would go to the front
together ; but you have no right to go without me. I can't
have you do it. You know I wouldn't ask you to stay
back one inch behind the post of duty ; but, for my sake,
don't go one inch beyond it. Oh ! it is hard to think of
you in danger which I must not share."
CHAPTER X.
CAJMPAIGNIKG WITH THE ARMY OF THE JAI^IES.
ATE in the evening of May lltb, Camp heard
indirectly that the prisoners paroled prior to April
30th were declared exchanged. At once he
telegraphed to a friend in Washington to ascertain the truth
for him. Learning early the next morning the report to
be correct, he telegraphed to Annapolis for permission to
go directly to his regiment, but was informed that he must
report again at Camp Parole. But five days of his leave
had yet expired. He had been eighteen months away
from home, nearly ten of these in prison. Not many, un-
der such circumstances, would have been unwillino* to
avail themselves of the remaining fifteen days with a loved
household, before returning to hard service in the field ; but
with Henry Camp the cause of country was the cause of
God, and for that cause he was willing to leave father and
mother, and brother and sisters, and to lose his life for its
sake.
Not stopping even for the completion of the clothing he
had ordered made, nor yet for the packing of a valise ;
wearing his clumsy prison-shoes of rebel make ; and taking
220
RETURN TO THE ARMY. 221
only a haversack for his personal baggage ; trusting to
share blankets and whatever else was required with his
friend at the front, — he was ready for a start in an hour
and a half after the receipt of his telegram, and hurried
off, on Wednesday night, for New York and Annapolis ;
thence to Fort Monroe and Bermuda Hundred, reaching
the latter point on Sabbath evening, May 15.
His regiment had left camp on the 12th, with General
Butler's advance to the rear of Drury's Bluff, and, after
sharp fighting on the loth and 14th, was now bivouacked
near the Richmond and Petersburg Railroad. The chap-
lain had left the regiment that afternoon to visit the hospi-
tal, and to write from camp to friends of the dead and
woynded. The joy of his unexpected meeting with his
friend, on reaching the camp, can only be imagined. The
re-united friends sat together that night, until 4 a.m., then
slept a single hour, and at five were up, making ready to
rejoin their regiment.
It was the foggy morning of May 16. The sharp
firing of the battle at the extreme right — the position of
the 18th Corps — was heard by the friends as they rode out
of camp ; but they did not suppose it boded trouble to the
10th Corps at the far left. As they approached the Rich-
mond turnpike, they saw evidences of disaster. Full sup-
ply-trains had been turned back ; shirks and stragglers
were hurrying to the rear ; rumors of a defeat came down,
at first vague, afterward more definite and positive. The
222 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
friends met an officer of General Heckman's Brigade, an
old acquaintance, and from bim learned of the morning
attack, and the severe losses in the engagement on the
right. General Heckman and Captain Belger were pris-
oners : Colonel Lee was erroneously reported killed, and
Lieutenant-Colonel Chambers was mortally wounded : —
all these were old North-Carolina fellow-officers. Affairs
wore indeed a gloomy aspect. The turnpike was thronged
with hastily retiring troops, wounded men, rebel prison-
ers, ammunition-wagons, and ambulances; and confusion,
if not disorder, prevailed. Many of those first met were
evidently much alarmed, and gave an exaggerated report
of the disaster.
Of the 10th Corps it was not easy to obtain intelligence.
Communication with it had been temporarily severed, and
the story was in many mouths that it had been cut off" and
captured, — albeit the friends knew it too well to be dis-
turbed by that report. That it had changed position was
confidently asserted, but how to find it was a troublesome
question. An officer of rank stated that it had moved
down the railroad, and was already some distance in the
rear. That assertion was contradicted by another officer,
five minutes later. Camp's anxiety to reach his regiment
grew greater and more intense continually. In prison,
he had more than once expressed the wish that he could
rejoin it in the hour of battle ; and now it seemed that he
might hope to do so. Hither and thither the friends
REJOINS HIS REGIMENT. 223
hnrriocl, in endeavors to learn the whereabouts of their
corps. Any one who has looked for a missing command
in the time of an engagement, and no one else, will under-
stand how next to impossible it then is to secure reliable
information of its locality, even from those who would be
supposed to know. Again and again the friends were
warned of the folly of an attempt to cross to the extreme
left, which the 10th Corps had occupied, and told that
their capture would be inevitable, if, indeed, they escaped
with their lives. The prospect of so speedy a return to
the Libby was certainly not enticing to the just-released
prisoner ; but he had no thought of slackening, on that
account, his eflforts to reach his regiment.
Moving up the road, Camp met, coming down, Captain
Stanton of the 21st Connecticut Volunteers, of Heckman's
Brigade, who pulled an oar with him at the Worcester
regatta. The captain's bleeding right arm was in an
extemporized sling ; he having been wounded in the morn-
ing's fight. As he had heard that Camp died in a rebel
prison, he was as surprised as pleased to find him alive
and well. To make sure of the 10th Corps, the friends
sought IMajor-General Butler, and, finding him with some
difiiculty, ascertained that General Gillmore's Corps was
still in position at the left. They then made haste in that
direction ; and, as they approached it, met wounded men
of their regiment coming to the rear. The 10th had been
hotly engaged, and lost heavily. It was still at the far
224 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
front. They still had diflSculty in finding its precise
location. Shai-p musketry-firing was heard just in advance.
Other wounded men coming back said it was again
eno-aged. There was intense earnestness in Camp's look
as he turned to his friend, and said, in tones of strongest
determination, "We must reach the regiment at once, in
one way or another." Not many seconds later, as the
two urged on their horses, the head of the regiment came
in view over the crest of a hill the riders were ascending.
That Adjutant Camp was recognized a wild shout of joy
gave proof. As he drew his horse to the roadside, the
regiment filed past ; and each company successively greeted
him with hearty hurrahs, while he sat, with cap in hand, in
all his manly beauty, receiving their gratulations with
feelings of grateful pride that atoned for weary months of
waiting and suffering in prison. Not alone Colonel Otis
gave him greeting, but Colonel (now General) Plaisted,
the brio-ade-commander, hastened forward to bid him
welcome ; and even General Terry, with all the respon-
sibility of the battle on him in that imminent hour for
his division, swung his hat in sympathy with the cheer-
ing regiment, and spurred forward his horse to take the
returned adjutant by the hand, and express his cordial
satisfaction at seemg him once more in his old position.
It was but a few minutes before Camp was conveying
orders along the line as naturally as though he had never
REAR GUARD. 225
been absent, while the bullets of the enemy whistled past
his ears.
" Durino; most of the time after this," he wrote, " we
acted as rear-guard, — a very unjDleasant duty upon a
retreat. To make a stand merely for the purpose of delay,
to take positions which we knew we could not hold, to
keep the pursuing enemy in check while others made good
their escape, — it was harassing and dispiriting work.
At one place, forming line with several other regiments,
we remained several hours without being attacked, and
had almost concluded that we were to march in unmolested,
when the order came for us to move forward, and hold the
crest of a hill some distance farther up the road. A section
of a battery (two pieces) occupied a position just opposite
our rio-ht flank. We had stood here some time with no
sign of an enemy, when suddenly the fierce rush of a
shell tore the air close by us. A better shot could hardly
have been made in a hundred trials ; but, strangely enough,
no one seemed to be hurt. The artillerists scattered as if
the explosion had blown them away bodily ; and it seemed
for a minute or two as if the guns were to be abandoned.
Their commander rallied his men, however ; but even then
the hight of his ambition seemed to be to get his guns
safely away, and in this he succeeded. I don't believe
the same movement was ever executed in less time than
it took those fellows to have their section in readiness, and
15
2i26 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
then tear clown the road at the full speed of then- horses.
It was absolutely ridiculous ; and our men stood by enjoy-
ing and commenting in a style that the battery-commander
would hardly have considered complimentary.
" From the same quarter as before, shell followed shell
in rapid succession, — some passing far beyond our line,
and striking in the track of the flying artillery ; some tear-
ing up the ground before us, filling the air with earth and
dust ; some exploding just above our heads, and sending
the ragged iron fragments among us in every direction.
Only one man, however, was hit ; and his wound was a
mere contusion. It is nervous work, this standins; target
for shells. You can tell a second or two in advance about
where the missile is coming, whether high or low, whether
upon the right or left, and if it seems to be just about in
a line with your own position, and about four feet, say,
from the ground, there's a short time during which you are
much interested as to the correctness or incorrectness of
your estimate."
That night found all of General Butler's troops who
remained of the expedition safely within the Bermuda
Hundred line of defenses.
The campaign which thus commenced to Camp ended
to him only with his death. He hardly knew what it was
to rest again while he lived. Battles and skirmishes alter-
nated witli tours of exciting and perilous picket-dul^y,
in the face of a vigilant and determined enemy. Being
LETTER - WRITING. 227
under fire was the soldiers' normal condition in the Army
of the James during the summer of 1864.
When the 10th Corps was re-organized at Gloucester
Point, the lOih Connecticut was brigaded with the 11th
Maine, the 100th New York, and the 24th Massachusetts,
under Colonel H. M. Plaisted of the 11th Maine. The
brigade was the third of General Terry's division. The
24th Massachusetts and the 10th had been friends in all
their campaigning. The 100th New York had been
brigaded with both in South Carolina. The 11th Maine,
although more recently with them, soon became a general
favorite, and that and the 10th were almost as one regi-
ment.
Camp's letters to his home from Bermuda Hundred
were full and entertaining as ever. His faithfulness as a
correspondent was remarkable. From the day he entered
service until he died, his home-letters averaged above three
full pages per day. These were written, without prefix or
signature, to the family as a whole, and formed a complete
record of his entire army and prison life. Of course,
much of his writing was by the wayside, or on the
battle-field. Seldom did many hours pass without his
writing something to the loved ones. The extracts freely
made from these familiar letters, written exclusively for
family eyes, in this memorial, show the style and sub-
stance of his correspondence.
" I'm half afraid," he wrote, soon after his return from
228 THE E2UGETLY SOLDIER.
Druiy's Bluff, "that my anxiety to join my regiment
may have made me seem not to appreciate home ; but
you know me better than that, don't you ? I can hardly
recall five so bright days in my life as those five with you.
I trust there will be many more like them. It would have
been delightful to be longer with you ; but none of us
would have had it so at the cost of absence from the place
of duty."
Tuesday evening, May 17th, Camp addressed his com-
rades at a prayer-meeting, by the blazing fire-light, in the
open an* ; and again his voice was heard by them in earnest
prayer. A few hours later, he was hurrying with them
toward the Petersburg pike for a night-attack on the
moving trains of Greneral Beauregard. Those who were
near him, as the regiment lay in support of the 11th Maine,
will not forget how, when an unexpected shower of bullets
was poured in among the reclining men, causing a mo-
ment's flutter, as if some would seek shelter, the tones
of his clear, firm, inspiring voice, saying, " Steady^ men !
STEADY ! " re-assured all who were within its sound.
" It is a strange life, this," he wrote a few days later,
"that we lead here, — widely different from any thing
that I have seen before in army service. The constant
liability to attack, and frequent skirmishes on the picket-
line, close in front of us, make us indifferent to what, in
other times, and at other places, would have caused us the
intensest excitement. Sharp fighting is going on while I
ARTILLERY FIRE. 229
write, just in the edge of the woods beyond the works, —
so near that every shot fired comes plainly to the ear ; and
the cheers of our men ring loudly through the air, — so
different from the beastly falsetto roar with which the
rebels charge, that we do not doubt that our forces are
attacking the rifle-pits which they lost a few hours ago."
Describing a night-attack on the lines. May 21st, when,
as on many another occasion, the regiment was humed
from its camp to the works, he said, " The scene, as viewed
from the intrenchments which our regiment immediately
manned, was a very striking one. Artillery fire by night
is a beautiful sight. The red burst of flame from the
muzzle of each gun hghts up the whole landscape like a
flash of summer lightning; the shell describes its long
curve through the air, leaving behind a trail of sparks
from the burning fuze ; and its explosion brings again
into momentary sight, sometimes the tree-tops only, above
which it bursts, or sometimes, if well aimed, the long, low
line of rebel earth-works, near the forest's edge. Then
the enemy's reply, — the distant flash, dim in comparison
with the startling glare of the shell which explodes, it may
be, close at hand, shooting long tongues of fire in all direc-
tions from a huge nucleus of intensest brilliance. Add to
this the almost incessant thunder of the rapid discharges,
the whole in its contrast with the previous darkness and
silence of a quiet moonless night, and you have that which,
once seeing and hearing, you will not soon forget."
230 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
Two nights later, the 10th was on picket when an order
came from division headquarters for scouts to be sent out
to ascertain if the enemy was still in full force in front.
Camp passed along the line conveying these orders from
Colonel Otis to his officers. Hardly had he returned to
the reserve when sharp firing was heard at the left.
Hurrying thither with the colonel, they found it was before
the adjoining brigade. Again they returned to their
starting-point.
" Before Henry and I had been half an hour at the
reserve," wrote Camp, " after our second return from the
advance, came the alarm of an attack, just as it always
comes, — first the crack of one or two rifles, startling one
from his rest, and sounding in the stillness as if it were
within twenty feet of him. This comes from the advanced
posts, where the men fire the instant they discover an
enemy, and then fall back ; then the fire of the whole
line, — not a solid volley, such as one hears at a drill, but
an irregular roll, unlike any thing else when heard close at
hand, but sounding at a distance so much like the clatter-
ing rumble of heavy wagons over a rough road, that even
a practiced ear is sometimes deceived. This time, the
sounds were close at hand, and with them came the whistle
of bullets.
" We who slept at the reserve were quickly upon our
feet, and out of our shelter. One company of our regi-
ment was stationed a short distance up the road ; to this
EXPOSURE. 231
the colonel sent me with orders to hold itself in readiness
for an immediate move to any part of the line which
might be hardest pressed. Henry and I walked toward
it through a sharp fire ; the message was delivered, and
we returned with a most uncomfortable apprehension all
the way that we might be hit in the back. The announce-
ment wouldn't read well in the newspapers, however
necessary the movement of which it was the result.
"Reaching the reserve, there was nothing more to be
done just at present but wait. Colonel Otis must not
move forward to the line lest messages sent to him at his
post should fail to reach him, and there we remained. It
was a far more dangerous position than at the front, being
near the central point of a convex line of defenses ; so that
we had a cross-fire upon us within short range of the rebel
works, and we were standing out in full exposure while all
others were sheltered behind defenses of one sort or another.
I don't know why it is, but this sort of danger affects me
comparatively little. Shot and shell, as long as I know
that I am not more than others their special mark,, I can
listen to with a good deal of confidence that none of them
mean me ; but the knowledge that a sharp-shooter has
his eye upon me ; is calculating the correctness of his aim,
since that last bullet missed its mark ; thinking whether he
had better take me in the head scientifically, or make a
sure thing of it by aiming a little lower down, — this, I
must confess, gives me a curious sensation in the pit of the
232 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
stomach, and makes me cast now and then a wistful glance
to the biggest tree-trunk near by. Of course, I don't go
there ; but I have a good deal of sympathy with the fellow
that does, after all.
" At this time, however, we had no such apprehensions.
We had heard, incredulously hitherto, of an explosive
bullet, said to be fired by the enemy : now, close by us,
nearer than the crack of our own rifles, sounded, every now
and then, a sharp little explosion, like that of a pistol. We
were inclined, after listening to a few of them, to believe
the stories we had heard, though I do not know that any
of the fragments have been picked up. As Colonel Otis,
Henry, and I stood together, the bullets flew thick and
fast ; and we had more than one narrow escape. . . .
" The advance of the rebels was repulsed. Colonel Otis
bringing our reserve company into action ; and, by half-past
two or three in the morning, all was again quiet."
Until about the first of June, there was little intennis-
sion to this skirmishing and artillery fighting. Of one of
his earlier visits to a large redoubt at the left of his regi-
mental front, commanded by Major Trumbull of the 1st
Connecticut Artillery, he wrote, —
" Major Trumbull invited us this morning to the top of the
parapet, to examine the rebel works with greater ease. The
interest of the view was increased by his explanations. ' These
works in the plain just beneath are our own rifle-pits, those
yonder in the woods are theirs. Theb sharp-shooters
UNDER FIRE. 233
post tbemselves in the under-growtli much nearer. I don't
know how it will be to-day, but yesterday no officer could
show himself here, without finding himself a mark immedi-
ately. You'll see, if we get a shot, it will come from
that thicket on the left. Between where we stand and that
traverse, a few rods distant, eight men have been picked
off since Sunday.' But the discourteous rebels didn't
seem to think us worth their notice ; and we came down
without a salute."
" I think we have been more under fire within the past
ten or twelve days," Camp wrote about the same time with
the above, "than in all our previous army life, — merci-
fully protected, both of us, as always hitherto, and as I
trust it may be in the future, until we reach home to-
gether."
It would seem as though such service was sufficiently
active to satisfy Camp's utmost craving for usefulness ;
but when Turner's division of the 10th Corps accompanied
the 18th Corps across the James to re-enforce the army of
the Potomac, and the Bermuda-Hundred front was for a
few days a little quieter, he was again disturbed lest he
should be left where there was not the greatest need of
men ; and, while listening to the thunder of the Cold-Harbor
battles, he wrote in a regretful mood which he never in-
dulged save when denied the privilege of doing more for
the cause he loved.
" Again through the day boomed the heavy guns far to
234 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the northward ; and now, assured that the fight had really
reached the gates of E.ichmond, we listened anxiously, and
waited impatiently as we still wait for news. This morn-
ing brings the same roar to our ears, but louder and clearer
than before, — a hopeful indication we think it. As I stop
writino; to listen, it seems to have ceased. Oh that we
were where it has come from, instead of dozing here, hemmed
in by a handful whom Beauregard probably didn't think
worth taking with him to meet Grant !
" You can't be havino; a more humdrum life than we
have had for two or three days now. Yet, when I stop to
think, we should have called just such days as these a
time of the intensest excitement at Newberne, or St. Helena,
or in any other place I have ever been. We have been
shelled in our intrenchments, we have picketed within pistol-
shot of the enemy, we have had word sent that they were
massing opposite the right, as if for an attack in force.
We have had every thing, except personal participation in
a fight, and the narrow escape which was beginning to be
a part of the regular programme of each day."
Picket-service was a very different matter at Bermuda
Hundred from what it had been at any place before occu-
pied by the 10th. At Newberne and St. Augustine the
enemy might make his appearance at any time, at Sea-
brook Island he was in sight of the outposts, at James
and Morris Islands he was within gunshot ; but at Ber-
muda, he was almost within arm's-length, — within speak-
V
PICKET DUTY. 235
ing distance along the entire front. As a portion of the
line was in the pine-woods, it was not an easy thing to
pass from post to post in the darkness ; and a few paces in
the wrono; direction after leavmo; the tree of one vedette
iQ search of the next would take one into the lines of the
enemy. As much of the posting was done after nightfall,
the duties of the adjutant in conveying orders from the
colonel, and in aiding to establish the line, were respon-
sible and trying. More than one ojQScer or soldier of this
side or the other strayed from his path, and was taken pris-
oner on that perplexing front; and Camp would have
shrunk far more from the thought of captivity than of
death.
Sociability between opposing pickets was a fresh feature
of outpost life, resulting from the proximity of the two lines.
Describing a walk from left to right along the picket front,
before batteries No. 3 and No. 4, Camp wrote : —
" Crossing the open ground, we entered the woods on
the opposite side of the plain. Here our lines and theirs
converged, so that the posts were as near to one another
as across the front of our house-yard. "We stopped and
watched those opposite us for a few minutes; and they
seemed equally interested in us. A'^ery natural they looked
in their gray jackets and pants, just like the fellows who
were keeping guard over me a few days ago. We scruti-
nized their faces to see if we couldn't recoo-nize some of our
old acquaintances among them ; but these were North-
236 THE EmOHTLY SOLDIER.
Carolina men, — the same, some of them, who had fought
us at Koanoke, Newberne, and Kinston : so they said.
They invited us to come over and visit them : they had
tobacco, which they wanted to barter for what we could
give ; and very likely we might have accepted the invitation
and returned in safety ; but we didn't put the question to
test. . . .
" The opposing pickets have been on excellent terms
for the past few days. On Monday, just before the artil-
lery fire commenced, the rebels at the outposts warned our
men, ' Get into cover, boys : our guns are going to open
right away ! ' And yesterday they called out to the men
of the Massachusetts 24th, that they had an ugly-tempered
fellow on as officer of the day, and would very likely be
ordered to fire at any Yankee whom they could see.
' But the^rs^ time,' said they, ' we'll fire high : after that
you must look out.' Good-natured fellows, weren't they?
not such as you would care to kill on general principles, —
only for special reasons."
The night of June 15th found the 10th on picket at the
extreme right, next the James. Soon after midnight, word
came to the reserve that the enemy had planted cannon so
as to sweep the main road across which ran the picket-line ;
that he was massing troops as for an attack at the right ;
and that he had advanced his vedettes as if to make room
for an assaulting column. Major Greeley, being in com-
mand of the regiment at the time, went immediately to the
AN ADVANCE. 237
front, and Camp accompanied him. That there was
unusual activity on the part of the enemy there could not
be a doubt. The rumble of moving artillery and army-
wagons was distinctly heard ; and the clatter of swift-riding
horses, with the voices of officers giving orders, close at
hand, mingled with the rattle of trains over the Petersburg
track from far beyond. But whether all these movements
indicated an evacuation, or the anival of re-enforcements
for an attack, was an undecided but interesting question
to the waiting listeners at the advanced rifle-pits. It was
impossible to decide from the sound in which direction the
teams were movino;.
Adjutant Camp was sent to make report of what was
heard to Colonel Voris of the 67th Ohio, division-officer
of the day. The latter had received similar reports from
all along the line. Orders were given for the entire force
to stand to arms until daylight. Just in the gray of the
morning came orders for the vedette line to be re-enforced,
and every other man of it pushed forward to feel the
enemy's front. The thin skirmish-line of the 10th, thus
formed, moved out; Major Greeley, Adjutant Camp, and
his friend following it closely. It was an exciting advance.
The i-umble of wheels was still heard, and the voices of the
enemy seemed not far in front. There was every reason
to expect momentarily a checking fire. They passed the
posts where the rebel vedettes stood at sundown. They
approached, unopposed, the rifle-pits over which the heads
238 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
of the Johnnies had peered at them the day before. The
sounds which were first heard had not yet died away ; but
the enemy made no attempt to stay the skirmishers' progress.
They saw before them the line of strong works which had
so long kept General Butler's forces cooped up in the
peninsula; but no signs of life appeared, although the
voices and the rumbling wheels were distinct as at the
start. The abattis was torn aside, the ditch was leaped,
the steep sides of the j)arapet were clambered ; and, with no
little satisfaction, they stood on the crown of the formidable
intrenchments, and, looking right and left, saw that they
were in unquestioned possession.
As yet only fifty or sixty men — extended along a front
of half a mile — had moved out from the 10th; and no
force was in supporting distance. The enemy had not
all deserted the Hewlett Redoubt ; and the handful of skir-
mishers nearest to it made haste along the parapet to cut
off the retreat of those still there, and succeeded in
capturing three commissioned ofiicers and nearly thirty
enlisted men.
The few who were participants in that morning advance
and skirmish on the bank of the James will not soon forget
the excitement of its progress, or the satisfaction of its
success. The regiment was ordered up, with other troops
at the left ; and soon the evacuated works were fully occu-
pied by a competent force, while General Terry pushed
out to cut once more the Petersburg and Kichmond Rail-
AT BEST. 239
road. The lOtb, having cleared out the rifle-pits on its new
front, and taken a few more prisoners, held a position
alono- the works near the river, where it had made its first
captures in the morning.
" Upon the river-bank stood a house, once the residence
of a Dr. Hewlett, — a pleasant place still, with a magnificent
prospect over the river, which winds two hundred feet
beneath. From its roof, the spires of Eichmond are plainly
to be seen, unless, as was the case now, the air is too hazy
to permit it. The house has been riddled with shell from
our gunboats and monitors, which have made it, and a
battery close beside it, their especial target for weeks past.
In this battery, forming part of the line of works, was
planted the largest and most formidable gun which tbe
rebels had in front of us, — a hundred-pounder Parrott,
which we should have been very glad to have been able to
silence.
*'Near this house we sat down to rest. The ice-house
attached to it, still partially filled, furnished us with an
unaccustomed luxury. The trees shaded a soft green
turf, and we thought ourselves well off in our temporary
headquarters. The morning wore away ; and, except an
occasional shot in front, all was quiet. We strolled about
the place, examining the effects of shot and shell. One
of the latter, a fifteen-inch plaything from a monitor, lay
unexploded half-way down the steep hillside. Our boys
amused themselves with rolling it to the bottom.
240 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
" Lying down upon the grass, we were waiting the ar-
rival of dinner, when a roar like that of a dozen shrieking
locomotives close at hand — a shock which made the earth
tremble beneath us ; and a tremendous explosion, all
nearly simultaneous — startled us, not to use a stronger
expression. Looking down the river, a cloud of white
smoke, di'ifting away from the turret of a monitor, showed
us what it meant. A hundred-pound rifle-shell had struck
the bank just below us, and exploded there. We
were supposed by our naval friends to be some of the
rebels to whom they had been devoting their attention for
a month past. While we still looked, another cloud of
smoke rolled out from a second port-hole. We jumped to
cover, or threw ourselves flat upon the earth. A second
or two, and again the howl and explosion, — the latter not
far from overhead ; while the huge fragments of a two-
hundred and fifty-pound shell from a fifteen-inch smooth-
bore flew all around us, — striking the trees close by,
burying themselves in the earth, or whizzing past and en-
dano-erinu; those who stood in a redoubt some two him-
dred yards distant, — Colonel Otis and Captain Goodyear
among them.
" This would never do. We must contrive to let them
know that we were friends. White handkerchiefs were
put in requisition, though it was doubtful how clearly they
would be visible at a distance of something like a mile ;
and, while the rest sought cover, the orderly-sergeant of
FRIENDS AS ENEMIES. 241
Company ' H ' [now Lieutenant Grinsell] stood upon a
tall gate-post, waving his signal, not flinching an inch
when the second shell burst above him so near at hand.
They saw the sign, fired no more shots, and presently a
boat put off, a white flag flying at her bows, and pulled
toward us; the officer in charge probably expecting to
receive the surrender of a body of rebels. He must have
been somewhat disconcerted, I think, when near enough
to distinguish our uniform ; but took it coolly enough
when we met him at the landing, sincerely hoped no one
had been hurt, and was pleased to have an opportunity to
examine the eflTects of their fire. We complimented him
on the accuracy of his shots, and invited him to dinner.
He declined the invitation, but made us quite a call ; filled
his boat with ice, and then returned, — not to hear the
last of it, I suspect, though, for some time. We have
been fired at by our own land-forces often enough before ;
but this monitor-shelling is a new variety, and throws other
artillery-fire as much in the shade as that does musketry.
No wonder that the rebels find gunboat-practice, in the
rare instances where they are exposed to it, so demoral-
• • J)
izmo;.
The enemy's troops had been withdrawn from the Ber-
muda-Hundred front to hurriedly re-enforce Petersburg
against Grant's attack. Lee was hasteuino; from Rich-
mond to fill the gap. General Butler deciding not to
hold the new position, acquired at so little risk, the rebel
16
242 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
worlis were OYaeuated at sundown on Terry's return from
the railroad. The lOth was the last regiment to fall
back, being instructed to hold its position "at all haz-
ards," while the other troops withdrew to their lines of
the morning. The situation was a critical one ; for the
enemy was coming down in strong force, charging the no
longer defended lines with hideous yells, and being
actually over the parapet at the left of the 10th, while
severely pressing its front, before word came for the latter
to retire. Yet so firmly did the 10th hold its ground, and
so steady and accurate was the fire of its sliirmishers, that
the advance of the enemy was checked, and the regiment
finally withdrew not only in good order, but unopposed.
The enemy quickly followed up the retiring troops, and
attacked vigorously along the line ; but were repulsed
with ease.
The next two days there was almost incessant skirmish-
ing on the Bermuda-Hundred front. The closing page
of a letter from Camp, written on the afternoon of the
18th, illustrates the manner in which his correspondence
was persevered in when the only leisure to be found was
in the intervals of active movements at the extreme front,
'* It's impossible to tell, when one commences a sentence,
when and where he will finish it. We are lying here now
as a support to the right of our division picket-hne, which
is in danger of being flanked ; the center having been
driven in. All had been quiet for some time, until, a
CLOSE FIRING. 243
moment or two ago, just as I was taking out the portfolio,
a bullet or two came wliizzing past. ' Ah ! ' said Henry,
' the time of the singing of birds has come.' ' Hum-
ming-birds ' our boys call these rifle-bullets. There strikes
another now, a little to my left, near where Henry stands
talking with a group of men. I doubt whether I'm al-
lowed to write many minutes more. Artillery is pounding
away heavily toward the left. Henry returns to sit by
me and write. That bullet was meant for him, — a man
who stood by him saw whence it came. Their sharp-
shooters are evidently on the lookout for us. I hope we
shall stay where we are long enough for me to finish my
letter. They are opening upon us now with spherical
case, — pretty good shots too. Our officers and a few of
the men sit upon the ground too far in the rear of the
rifle-pits to be sheltered at all by them. A shot struck
just now within a yard or two of our boys, a couple of
rods to the right of where we are sitting : they seem to
have our range exactly. I must close this and send it."
The severe shellino; which followed that letter-writing
he described a few days later : —
" At half-past three Saturday morning, we were ordered
out to support the 11th Maine, which held the right of the
picket-line. We occupied a rifle-pit a few rods in then*
rear, and, having taken position, lay down for another nap.
The morning, after our waking and breakfast, was chiefly
occupied in writing ; a shell from the rebel works every
244 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
few minutes giving me subject-matter for an occasional
parenthesis. All tbese passed harmless by ; and we wrote
on, or read the papers just brought up, paying them no
attention, beyond now and then an involuntary start, when
one came lower and nearer than usual. It seemed as if
the rebel gunners now for the first time saw the mark to
be aimed at. Of this we received intimation by the burst-
in 2: of a shell two or three rods to the left and rear of
where we sat ; the fra2;raents cuttino; twin's and branches
from the trees above us, and the bullets with which it had
been filled (it was a spherical case) striking the ground
in fifty places around.
" Shell after shell now came in rapid succession, and
with the most wonderful accuracy of direction and length
of fuze. Henry and I had thought the first a chance-shot,
and had not moved from our seat under a tree, a little in
the rear of the rifle-pit. But as one after another, at
intervals of a few seconds only, exploded nearly in the
same place, we made up our minds that even the slight
protection of the open rifle-pit was not to be disregarded,
and took position in it by the side of Major Greeley, who
was in command of the regiment. Every man was speedily
ensconced in the same cover. As Henry rose from the
ground to enter it, a ragged piece of iron struck within six
inches of him : he picked it up, hot with the flame of the
powder, and brought it with him.
SHELLS. 245
" Leaning our backs against the side of the trench in
which we sat, we thought our danger to be only about
one-half that of a position upon the level ground. Owing
to the velocity of the exploding shell, few of its fragments
foil behind or even under it. Most of them are thrown in
front of the point at which it bursts. Most, I say ; but,
after all, it is about as unpleasant to be hit by one of a
dozen, as by one of two dozen missiles. So we looked up,
and wondered — as each fierce explosion smote our ears to
positive pain, filling the air with powder-smoke, and hiding
for a moment all that was' before our eyes — whether this
was the one meant for us.
" The air was full of flying iron and lead, pattering in
a shower upon the ground, rattling like hail among the
trees, cutting off branches and twifrs, throwing: down the
piled-up earth of our shelter, and dashing up little clouds
of dust above, before, behind, on all sides at once. Eight
among us in the rifle-pit they struck : the wonder seemed
that any escaped, yet for a time no one was touched.
A tree grew above our heads. Among its branches, per-
haps thirty feet from the ground, a shell burst, tearing
them to pieces, covering us with the falling shreds of
wood, bark, and leaves; but the shower was a harmless
one. Just before where we sat rose a much larger tree,
a pine. Mingled with the explosion of a shell came the
sound of a sharper though less stunning crash. * Look
246 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
out, boys ! ' called some one ; and down thundered the
tree, its trunk shivered, — falling directly toward us, but
a yard or two from our position.
" The fire came from several directions. One gun in
our front seemed never to fail. Every shell which it sent
burst over some part of our line as accurately as if it had
been thrown like a hand-gi-enade. Another, far to our
right, flung its shot a few feet above our heads ; and on
they went, crashing along through the woods, with swift
succession of sharp reports mingling with their shrieks as
tree-trunks snapped like pipe-stems, their tops whirled in
air, the path beneath marked with shivered boughs and
limbs rent from their places of growth. Then came the
explosion far in the rear, where were posted our reserves.
" This shelling lasted for more than an hour. Narrow
escapes were, of course, the rule rather than the exception ;
still, as yet no one had been so much as grazed. At
length there was a lull, — a little time of utter quiet;
then came that for which all this had been only preparation.
A wild yell sounded through the woods upon our left, and
in a moment more there minoled with it the crack of a
thousand rifles. Yell upon yell, volley upon volley,
nearer and nearer every second. ' Make ready, boys ! '
called Major Greeley ; and at once every man who had not
already risen was upon his feet. Just then came one
more shell, — almost the last which was fired : it skimmed
low, struck the ground a few rods in front of us, bounded
THE FIGHT. 247
just high enougli to clear the ridge of earth before the rifle-
pit, and strike a man who had just risen in obedience to
the order. Poor fellow ! he never knew that he was hit.
One shoulder, half his neck, and the lower part of his
head, were carried sheer away. He dropped without a
groan or a quiver. Hardly any one knew it. Henry
and I did not, though we were but a few yards from him.
*' Each man was leaning over the breastwork, his rifle
at his shoulder, his eye fixed on the openings of the wood
in front, among whose trees we expected every moment to
see the gray coats of an advancing line. I haven't known
since I entered the army a moment of more intense excite-
ment. Nor was it over in a moment. Bullets were flying
fast above us, but no enemy made his appearance. On
our left the fight was raging fiercely ; no cessation of the
rapid volleys, no intermission of the rebel yells, which, still
approaching, seemed to be just upon our flank and close at
hand, indicatins; that our line had been broken but a few
hundred yards below us. . . .
" The fight did not reach us. Upon our left, it swayed
back and forth, — -Colonel Otis commanding upon our side
as general-ofiicer of the day. The enemy, in their first
rush, gained possession of part of our line of rifle-pits ;
but were afterward driven back with loss of prisoners,
and, at the close, we held our old position. Their sharp-
shooters afterward annoyed us somewhat, — several shots
being fired at Henry as he stood talking with the men,
248 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
several at Major Greeley and myself; but no one was hit.
Henry buried the poor fellow who was killed by the shell
not far from where he fell ; and we returned about dark
to camp. At midnight, we were ordered out again, and
remained through the sabbath, — a quiet day. Return-
ing once more to camp at evening, we saw the smoke qf a
rebel ram, which had come down the river, now returnins:
under the fire of our giinboats. A prayer-meeting in
camp closed the day pleasantly."
In modest under-estimate of his power in graphic deline-
ation of these thrilling scenes of army-life, he said, —
" I have described the same thing — or what must seem
so to you — in the same words so often, that I am heartily
tired of the story myself, and mean to quit grinding my
single-tune hand-organ. K I could bring out the distinc-
tive features which individualize similar yet widely different
scenes, and make each one fresh in its exciting interest to
us who have part in it, it would be worth while to attempt
a new sketch for each ; but all that is left in my power
now is, in transparent-slate style, to trace over again my
old lines with a pencil that grows duller each time I re-
peat the experiment."
CHAPTER XL
DEEP BOTTOM. — STRAWBERRY PLAINS.— DEEP
RUN.
UNE 20tb, the 10th C. V., as a portion of Brig-
adier-Greneral R. S. Foster's new command,
marched down from the Bermuda-Hundred front
to Jones's Landino;, and thence crossed the James durinor
the eve^iing in the boats on which the pontoon was subse-
quently laid. It was this movement which gave General
Grant possession of Deep Bottom, — his base thencefor-
ward of all operations north of the James. The enemy
occupied the position at that time, and on Colonel Otis de-
volved the delicate and difficult task of establishing, be-
tween midnight and morning, a safe picket-line in a portion
of country he had never visited before, pressing back the
rebel pickets as he posted his own. Adjutant Camp had
his full share of duty, aiding in this important work.
Again there were weeks of picketing in close proximity
to the enemy, with occasional skirmishes and annoyance
from artillery-fire. The pickets were as sociable as before
Bermuda Hundred. On one occasion, some South-Caro-
linians inquired for Adjutant Camp and Chaplain Trumbull,
whom they had guarded in the Columbia jail, and sent
249
250 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
them kindly gi'eeting. The 10th was on picket when the
flag of truce passed out to arrange for the visit to Kichmond
of Colonel Jacques and Edmund Kirke, and again when
the latter returned from their mission. One morning the
rebels brought down a light battery to Strawberry Plains
and drove the gunboats out of range, killing and wound-
ing quite a number on one of the double-enders ; then
threw shot and shell across Four-Mile Creek at General
Foster's headquarters and the camp of the 10th, explod-
ing shell directly over the tent where the field and staff
of the latter sat at breakfast, giving the servants who were
bringing in the coffee hair-breadth escapes, and tearing
through tents but a few yards distant.
There were days of discomfort in that Southern mid-
summer, when, as Camp said, —
"The weather we are having is beyond description, —
not merely heat, but an enervating influence in the air,
that makes it seem impossible to move hand or foot. We
should hardly have energy, if we saw the rebels coming
over the top of the hill, to get up and form line, without
a written order from headquarters."
And there were stormy nights of discomfort on the
picket-line. Of one of these he wrote : —
" It threatened rain, and, before lying down to sleep,
we made an inner roof of shelter-tents to our booth of
boughs. The rain came. We slept quietly; and con-
gratulated ourselves upon our forethought, until the rising
NABROW ESCAPE. 251
"wind warned us that we were not yet safe. Our shelter
was very slightly constructed; it swayed to and fro in
the gusts, and at length, as a fiercer blast swept along,
toppled and fell with a crash, burying us completely.
The materials of which it was built were not heavy enough
to hurt us. We tui'ned over, and went to sleep again.
The wet cloth which covered us, and the branches piled
above, were of no service in keeping off rain, and they
made rather a heavy counterpane ; but it was of no use
to think of building a new shelter then, and we lay still.
Our rubber-blanket made an excellent water-proof bottom
for the puddle which was speedily formed around us ; and,
before morning, we were as well drenched, and as well
chilled, as need be. It reminded me quite forcibly of my
last December's experience in the South-Carolina woods."
One afternoon, when the 10th was charged with the
duty of pushing out the picket-line on either side of the
Kingsland Road, to make room for the expected 19th Corps,
Camp had a very narrow escape on the vidette-line from a
rebel sharpshooter, close at hand ; the bullet striking the
tree at which he stood, just at the hight of his head.
** Strange, how many bullets miss ! " he wrote of this,
in coolness; "not only those fired at random, in the
excitement of battle, but those sent with deliberate aim,
and at short range."
His perils and privations seemed only to remind him
that he was doing and enduring something for the cause
252 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
he loved, and to give bim fresh reason for thankfulness that
he was again in the field.
" Ah ! those poor fellows in Columbia, and their friends,
— am I not grateful, and you for me that I am not there?
My prison-life seems to me already like a dream. I don't
remember much about it now that the nightmare has left
me. How much better to come back here and be shot, if
that proves the alternative, than to have stayed where I
was!"
He never dwelt on the dark side of his personal lot in
hard service. He was never despondent for the national
cause. No matter how much he suffered, no matter how
much of gloom seemed to others to enshroud the civil or the
military situation, he was always contented and hopeful.
The pillar by which God led him through the wilderness
was of brightness by day and by night.
After a night under arms at the Deep-Bottom intrench-
ments, the 10th moved over Four-Mile Creek to Strawberry
Plains, near Haxall's Landing, on the morning of July 26,
to assist the 11th Maine in retaking a line of rebel rifle-
pits on the Malvern-Hill Koad, captured some days before
by the latter regiment, and yielded again by a portion of
the 19th Corps. Then followed a day of sharp skir-
mishing ; the rebels contesting obstinately every foot of
ground, yet gradually falling back. In the forenoon, while
the fight was opening, and the 10th had not yet advanced
to the extreme front, Camp wrote, —
SKIBMISHING. 253
** The regiment has stacked arms by the roadside where
the shaded joath winds pleasantly up from the river-bank.
Headquarters are under a large tree just in the rear of the
line, Henry and I, who always carry writing materials
in a little haversack which we keep by us, are writing our
letters in the interval of rest. The gunboats are firing over
our heads at thef rebels in front; and each explosion, so
near are we to the muzzles of the guns, makes one feel as
if both ears were being boxed with sledge-hammers, and
the top of his head flattened with a pile-di'iver. Field-
pieces are being rapidly worked at the top of the bank
above us, and the reports are almost incessant. As I
write, one of our men is being carried past, wounded in
the arm by the premature explosion of a shell. Henry has
left his writing to attend to him. He was one of a detach-
ment stationed at a redan in front of our halting-place. It
is said the gunboats are using some captured rebel ammu-
nition which doesn't fit the guns. Ten minutes ago, a
poor fellow was carried by on a stretcher with his foot torn
completely off by a shell which burst short of its mark, and
killed instantly one of his companions. How much of this
artillery blundering we have seen ! Some one ought to be
tried and shot for it. Henry returns, saying that our man
has only received a slight flesh-wound. He was lying
down behind the breastworks, and thought that there cer-
tainly he was safe. We are coming to the conclusion that
the only place where one is really out of danger is at the
254 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
extreme front. They are firing now so directly above our
heads that I have to stop, and brush from my paper the
leaves and twigs cut off by the shot, and falling about us
in showers. Hope they have good ammunition on that
boat, — no short fazes, — and that they won't drop any
very large branches on us."
The sun and the fire, both artillery and musketry, were
very hot that day. Many a brave soldier fell never to rise
again, or was carried to the rear maimed for life. It was
a trying day. When evening came, the handful of men
from General Foster's command held a salient angle in
the woods, running into the enemy's position of the morn-
ing, where they were fronted and flanked by a largely su-
perior force. The picket-posts were for a portion of the
way within a few yards of each other ; so that even a heav-
ily drawn breath could be heard across the lines, and con-
versation in an ordinary tone was distinctly audible. Gen-
eral Grant had telegraphed, just before night, to hold eveiy
inch that had been gained, promising help before morning.
The pickets of the 10th lay concealed in the low under-
brush. If they discovered themselves by the crackling of a
twig, they were liable to be silenced by a shot from just
in their front ; and the preparations for the mo^'ning, which
they could hear the enemy making, were any thing vbut en-
couraging. Artillery was brought down, and so planted
that they could almost have looked into the gun-muzzles ;
while a single discharge of grape from the battery could
STRAWBERRY PLAINS. 255
sweep tlicm away like chaff from the enfiladed picket-line.
They could hear the braggart threats of annihilation of the
venturesome Yankees when the daylight came, and they re-
alized their danger ; yet all who were unwounded remained
firm and true. Adjutant Camp crept along that entire
line, conveying orders, at imminent risk not only of being
shot but of passing within the enemy's lines ; the latter
being nearer to some posts than the next vedette, and the
way found only with greatest difficulty in the gathering
darkness.
A pleasant incident to Camp of that evening was the
meeting of a college classmate, Wiswell, a captain of
the 11th Maine, who had recently returned to his regiment
after an absence of some months, and been all that day in
the skirmish-line. Glad always to meet a college compan-
ion, Camp especially delighted to find one a comrade in
arms.
There was not much sleeping that night among officers or
men of the 10th, — only an anxious waiting for the morn-
ing whose sun must rise in blood. Word was received
that the pontoon-bridge was being deadened with straw
that a moving column might pass it noiselessly, and that a
large force of cavalry was on the south bank of the river.
About daylight the 2d Corps crossed over from Jones's
Landing, having marched hurriedly from Petersburg. Gen-
erals Hancock and Sheridan were present with their com-
mands. Then, in the words of Camp, —
256 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER,
"Soon after sunrise the advance of our forces corn-
menced. From our station at the picket-reserve, we had
a capital view of all that was done. A column of men
moved forward across the plain on our right ; the pickets
of the enemy fell hack as they approached, and they
descended into the valley without serious opposition.
Here, sheltered by the rise of ground before them from
fire, they formed an open skirmish-line, each man with
room to act independently, and moved up the slope. We
watched them with intent eagerness. As they rose to the
level beyond, a sharp volley greeted them ; and instantly
the air was white and the hillside dotted with pufis of
smoke as each man halted for an instant where he stood,
fired, and moved on, loading for another discharge. There
is one poor fellow down ! and an officer, a surgeon perhaps,
bending over him. There are half a dozen more ! — not
all of them wounded, however : they are lying flat for cover,
and we can see them loading and firing industriously.
There are two or three mounted officers — one of them with
a straw hat — canterins; about amono; the men. That looks
to us hke recklessness. We are in the habit of seeing
officers go into a fight dismounted; but we can't help
admiring their pluck.
" Now most of the line has disappeared behind the crest
of the hill which slopes down toward the rebel works just
beyond ; and we can judge only from the rapid rifle-cracks
that the fight is being hotly contested. By this time they
STRAWBEBRT PLAINS. 257
must be up to the works. But what does this mean?
There are men moving the wrong way ; there come two or
three on the ran, and twenty follow them. Is it a panic?
No : the men halt as soon as they have gained the partial
shelter of the slope, and open fire again. It is plain that
the first attack has failed ; but they don't mean to give it
up yet. They are all on this side of the crest now, in
plain sight; and their ofiicers are urging them on for
another rush. A good deal of the dash has been taken
out of them, however, by that unsuccessful attempt; and
they don't like to go beyond the slope.
"The horseman with the straw hat gallops to and fro,
waving his sword, pointing to the front, pressing them to
come up once more. Some are ready to try it. The color-
bearer rushes forward, stands on the highest point of ground
where the bullets must be flying like hail, turns, and waves
his colors to those behind. We can hardly help cheering
the brave fellow, and that noble rider who is in front of
all, dashing on, and calling them to follow. We expect
every moment to see him go down, and strain our eyes
with eager watching. How can men help following him ?
But no : too many hold back ; and those who are willing
are discouraged, and give way too. Yet the straw-hat man
won't give it up so. If it can't be done in one way, per-
haps it can in another. He'll try flanking them. There
is a little depression in the ground on the right. He plants
the colors in a sheltered spot, forms line there, and moves
ir
258 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
off in this direction, approaching obliquely the rebel works;
and his men, ready for any thing except that in which
they have just failed, start after him with a rush. They
are sj>eedily out of sight.
*' Again comes the sound of sharp musketry; but this
time there is no falling back : it grows more and more
distant, and before long we hear that the works are taken
and four Parrott guns with them. Our own men deserve
part of the credit, though they won't be likely to get it.
That part of the picket-line which was nearest opened an
effective fire upon the enemy, and, beside the loss which
they inflicted, made the Richmond Road so hot, that horses
couldn't be brought down to withdraw the artillery before
the works were abandoned.
" We met the officer in the straw hat within the works.
Henry talked with him, and learned that he was lieutenant-
colonel of the 183d Pennsylvania, commanding a brigade
in Barlow's Division of Hancock's Corps, — a very fine-
looking fellow, and modest as he was brave. His name
was Lynch. His hat had been pierced by a bullet, and
his horse shot under him ; but he had come out without a
scratch. A lieutenant-colonel commandino; a brio;ade !
Think how the corps must have been cut up ! "
The 10th returned to its camp at Deep Bottom, and
resumed picket-duty, with an occasional demonstration
against the enemy, or the meeting of an attack on its line.
An affair of the latter kind Camp thus described : —
SKIRMISHING. 269
**A week ago Monday (August 1), we were out on
picket. The day had passed quietly. Henry, seklom
absent at any time, and least of all when the regiment is at
the front, had been called away by business on the other
side of the river. It was almost time for us to be relieved,
— late in the afternoon, — when several shots were sud-
denly fired upon the line in front. They did not start us ;
but, when half a dozen more came in rapid succession,
Captain Goodyear, who was in command, ordered the
reserve to stand to arms. A messenger came ; the enemy
were advancing. "We marched immediately to the point
of attack, and re-enforced the picket-line with the reserve
deployed as skirmishers. Quite a brisk little fight followed,
Indian fashion, — every one, except officers, to his tree,
covering himself, keeping a sharp lookout for the similarly
protected enemy, and firing whenever he caught a glimpse
of a gray jacket.
" Twice the rebels attempted to charge, setting up a
feeble yell, which was rather encouraging from its lack of
force than disheartening. Finding these Chinese tactics
unavailing, our men firmly holding their ground, they
finally retired. Then came the turn of our boys ; and the
complimentary yells, the hoots, and the cock-crowing
which followed them as they gave way and left the ground,
must have been soothing enough. What their loss was
we could not determine : ours was three men wounded, —
one mortally, dying the next day; another severely, but
260 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
not dangerously. The bullet wbich struck the third was
checked in its progress by passing through a stout tin cup
and a haversack well filled with hard-tack, — almost bullet-
proof, — and inflicted only a slight wound. Henry was
on hand before the affair was fairly over, having heard the
firing on his way back, and run his horse all the rest of the
distance. The boys chuckled over his appearance, believing
that, if he bad been twenty miles further off, it would have
made no difference. Whether I was glad to see him, and
he me, I needn't say."
Camp gave the following thrilling sketch of the first
mihtary execution whicb he witnessed, occurring Aug. 8,
at Deep Bottom.
'' A singular incident took place on our picket-line a
short time since. A deserter who came in at the Grover
House was recognized by the 24th Massachusetts men,
who were on duty there, as one of their old comrades, who
had deserted to the enemy two years ago, while the regi-
ment was at Newberne. Tired of the rebel service, and en-
couraged by former success in shifting sides, he had again
run the lines, and thought, on reaching our posts, that his
danger was over, little suspecting, until it was too late, that
he had walked straio;ht into his old ref^iment. Had he
entered from any other point of the whole rebel territory,
had he made the attempt on any other day than the one
on which the 24th guarded the line, or, even then, had not
a little drummer-boy accidentally present, who was a mem-
A DESERTER. 261
bcr of the same company to which he had belonged, re-
membered him, he would have escaped without recognition.
Humanly speaking, his chances were a thousand to one
for safety, after having once passed the rebel vedettes.
"He was, of course, held. Charges were preferred
against him, he was tried, convicted, and sentenced to be
shot in presence of the brigade to which he had been at-
tached while in our service. The orders were received on
Sunday last. Colonel Osborn of the 24th was charged
with their execution. He sent for Henry to talk with the
man, — a hardened desperado, at first reckless, defiant,
professing utter carelessness as to his future, either in this
world or the next. . . . Softened at length, he acknowl-
edged his anxiety and fear, sobbed, broke down utterly,
and desired that prayer should be made for him. Tho
execution was to take place at four p.m., on Monday. The
condemned man was a Catholic ; and a priest had been sent
for on Sunday night, Henry preferring, of course, that the
man's wishes should be consulted in such a matter ; but it
was doubtful whether one could be found and brought to
the place in time. He arrived, however, before daylight ;
and Henry was spared the exceedingly trying duties which
bad seemed likely to devolve upon him.
" At half-past three in the afternoon, the regiments of
the brigade were formed, each upon its own parade-ground,
and then marched to a wide open plain, bounded on one
side by a gentle slope. Here they were formed in three
262 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
sides of a hollow square, — the fourth being the vacant
hill-side : there was a newly dug grave, with the fresh
earth heaped beside it. The proceedings of the court-
martial, and the order for the execution were now read to
each regiment ; I, of course, performing the duty for our
own. Meantime a small column was slowly approaching
the place. In the center was a wagon containing the pris-
oner, securely fettered. The priest rode with him. A
strong guard marched in front and rear. At their head,
a band played plaintive funeral music, swelling solemnly
above a heavy undertone of muffled drums. In the dis-
tance, they hardly seemed to move ; and the sound of the
dead-march came softly to our ears. At length they drew
near, approaching with slow measured tread ; the drum-beat
was a deep subdued roll of thunder, the notes of the wind
instruments were a piercing wail as they passed before us
and halted opposite the grave. Then all was silence.
Every eye was turned toward one spot, every ear atten-
tive. But for the impatient stamping of officers' horses
and those of the cavalry squadron drawn up on the hill-
side, there was hardly more sound than if the place was
the same solitary field it had been before armies encamped
and marched upon Virginia soil.
" The prisoner left the wagon ; he seemed to step firmly
and boldly upon the ground ; but we were too distant to
see the expression which his face wore. The priest was by
his side. They knelt by the grave, and prayer was offered,
AN EXECUTION. 263
inaudible to any but the condemned. Then a platoon of
twelve men, led by an officer, marched out, halted a few
paces in front of the spot, and faced toward it. The officer
advanced, and read to the prisoner the proceedings of the
court and its sentence, — a cruel formality it seemed, a
needless lengthening of the terrible suspense. Did the
prisoner wait with nervous impatience, as we did, for the
worst to come ? or did he wish each sentence was a volume,
that he mio;ht clinor a little lono-er to life ?
"The reading was finished, a broad white bandage
was bound about his eyes ; and, with arms firmly pinioned
behind his back, he was made to kneel upon the coffin of
unpainted pine which had been placed before the grave.
Then for the first time the guard left his side, and all fell
back who had stood around him. There was a hush, in
comparison with which the former silence had been
tumult.
" The officer in command of the firmg party waved his
sword : each piece was brought to a ' ready.' Again, and
they were levelled in aim. The third time, and a quick
sharp volley sounded through a cloud of smoke. The blind-
fold, pinioned form tottered for a moment ; then bent for-
ward, and pitched heavily to the ground. There was a
long breath of relief drawn by each who looked on, — it
was over, was it? There might yet be a doubt. The
officers stepped forward with a surgeon to examine the body,
which lay prone and motionless in its suit of rebel gray.
264 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
The lungs still feebly expanded, and a low moan seemed
to issue from them. Mere mechanical action, the surgeon
thought; but a platoon which had been held in reserve was
speedily ordered up, a second volley fired, and life at
length was pronounced utterly extinct. Then the whole
force was wheeled into column, and marched slowly past
the corpse, a gory, ghastly sight, lying where it fell, pierced
with twenty bullets.
*'We returned to camp late in the afternoon. The
scene had been one of the most impressive we had ever
witnessed ; and its effect upon the men, I think, just what
it was designed to be. We had never before been present
at a military execution ; and the death-penalty, so common
in the sentences of courts-martial, so seldom hitherto car-
ried into effect, had ceased, in a measure, to possess signifi-
cance. The case was an a2;f>;ravated one, and well deserved
capital punishment, — not merely desertion, but desertion
to the enemy, and long service against his comrades. The
man claimed never to have been in action, but was for some
months on guard at the Libby. Henry questioned him as
to the time : it was between the periods of our visits to
Richmond, but including neither. Twenty bullets I said
at random : there ought to have been twenty. I have
learned since that there were but thirteen, — five of the
first volley, eight of the second ; twenty-two in all being
fired. There were twenty -four men ; but, on all such occa-
sions, one in each platoon has a blank cartridge ; none
A WEEK OF FIGHTING. 265
but tbe officer knowing wbich it is. Any, therefore, who
may shrink from the feeling that he has done executioner's
duty, and has blood other than that of an enemy upon his
hands, is at liberty to believe, if he chooses, that his was
not the fatal shot. Does it seem strange to find among
soldiers such horror of blood, and such considerate regard
for the feelings? Just the place to look for both!"
Sabbath morning, August 14, opened a week of hard
fio-htino; for the armies of the Potomac and the James.
The latter moved toward Richmond from Deep Bottom
to enable the former to establish itself on the Weldon
Road. General Terry's division did most of the fighting
north of the James ; General Foster's brigade losing in
the week fully one-third of its entu-e available force ; the
other brigades suflfering also severely.
Camp thus describes the opening, and some of the later
incidents, of the week's operations : —
" Last Saturday, we had orders to be ready for a move.
Those who pretended to have any opinion on the subject
talked of Washington, the Shenandoah, or Weldon. We
packed, and went to bed late and tired. At four o'clock,
A.M. (Sunday), came orders to fall in at once (there was
great haste), and march to the picket-line. Half-way
there, an order to doul^le-quick ; within five minutes, the
same again. At the front, General Foster was waiting for
us ; his orders had been to attack at davli^ht. We must
266 THE KNIGBTLT SOLDIER.
move forward at once, — not precisely like a trip to Wasb-
inoton !
"We formed line, threw out skirmishers, and advanced,
connectino- with other refj-iments on the rioht and left. A
O <-J o
very few minutes, and the fight was brisk. The main
body of the regiment was halted, and the men lay down ;
while ofiicers moved up and down the line ; skirmishers
dodged from tree to tree, and bullets pattered fast in all
directions. Henry and I had on straw hats, unsuited for
a fight, though well adapted for a journey toward the She-
nandoah ; and Henry secured caps, first for me, and after-
ward for himself, — one belono-ino- to one of our wounded
men, the other to one just shot dead. A hat was better
for the first ; none the worse for the second.
" Going down the line, I stopped to deliver an order to
Lieutenant Sharp. We stood for a moment talking; and
I had hardly turned away when a bullet passed through
his head just behind the eyes. Officers went down fast.
Captain Quinn had charge of the skirmishers. Two of
his men, stepping in succession behind a large tree which
seemed to offer excellent shelter, fell, — one dead, the
other severely wounded. He moved forward to the same
place, and was instantly shot dead ; all three within two
minutes. It was some time before his body could be re-
covered. Captain Webb was wounded, and carried back;
and presently we saw two men helping Lieutenant Brown
to the rear with a bullet through his leg. A moment
A CHARGE. 267
after I left Sharp, I came upon one of our men lying on
the ground with the blood pouring from a wound in the
shoulder. Asking his name of those who stood by, I was
told it was Dwyer, of Company F. He looked up as I
inquired. ' I'm a dead man, adjutant.' — ' I hope not,'
said I ; but he knew too well : he did not live to be
carried from the field.
" There was a yell fi-om the rebels in front ; a louder
crash of musketry. Our skirmishers stood fast, and drove
back the advancing enemy; but, on our left, men came
pouring back in panic. We helped their officers to rally
them ; the rebels dared not follow them up ; the line was
re-established, and the fight went on as before. This had
lasted more than an hour when the 24th Massachusetts,
which had been held in reserve, came marching up in
double column : they were to charge through the dense
wood upon the rifle-pits beyond. We had orders to fol-
low, and support them. They moved forward splendidly,
with well-closed lines and steady step ; they passed us a
few rods, and the undergrowth hid them from sight. ^Ve
came after in line of battle. Not very sleepy work, such
an advance as that.
' ' Two or three minutes passed ; the same irregular fire
in front, and, with a long tremendous cheer, the 24th
made their rush. Our boys needed no orders; a shout
burst from every throat, and the whole line dashed on.
But, instead of the fierce volleys we expected to meet,
268 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
there, on reaching open ground, was the hne of works
deserted. The yell and the charge had been too much
for the nerves of our friends in gray ; and, almost without
another shot, they had turned, and made the best of their
way to the rear. It was a strong position, and an attack-
in 2; force mio'ht have been made to suffer fearful loss.
The 24th took twenty or thirty prisoners, — as contented
and happy a looking set of fellows as they marched off as
I ever saw. No wonder ! "
After a brief rest, the 10th was ordered to a new posi-
tion ; and the day was passed in marching and counter-
marching, and covering by skirmish-line the movements of
other commands. In the evening, during a severe storm,
the regiment moved over to Strawberry Plains, — where
it had aided in the capture of the Parrott guns a few weeks
before, — and there halted until daylight. Monday was
intensely hot. The march up the New-Market Hoad was
exhausting ; men by the score fell smitten with sun-
stroke. The only rest secured to the 3d Brigade was dur-
ing the afternoon under a sharp artillery-fire near Silver
Hill. The night again called for picket-duty on an ex-
posed front. Before daylight of Tuesday, the troops were
up and in line, ready for a start; and by five o'clock
were on the move.
An attack on the enemy's new position was commenced
about eight o'clock. Camp's narrative thus continues : —
"A skirmish-line was thrown out to cover the advance;
SCOUTING. 269
but tliG woods were so thick, tliat it was almost impossible
for them to regulate their movements as they should by
ours. We marched in line of battle, changing direction
by order. They became separated from us, and we from
the troops upon our left ; so that our flank was swung,
entirely exposed, far to the front. Colonel Otis, becom-
ing anxious at this state of affairs, sent me forward to
find, if possible, and bring into position, the skirmishers.
Twenty paces into the thicket, and the regiment and I
were lost to one another. I haven't confidence enough in
my own bump of locality to enjoy sucli exploring expedi-
tions as the'se, even when nothing serious or important is
at stake ; and, when I know that lives may hang upon my
moving a few yards too far to the right or the left, there is
nothing in open battle from which I so much shrink. It
was a bhnd search. I moved rapidly to where the line
should have been : there was no sign of it. Then for-
ward, more carefully, through thicket, over fallen trees,
across swamps, until I came to a ravine. I halted to
listen if I could hear men anywhere moving, parting the
bushes, or treading on dry leaves. No sound : the woods
were as quiet and apparently as tenantless as if I were
in the wilderness beyond the Eocky Mountains.
' ' Tlie ravine would be a good line of defense ; the
opposite side a very likely position to meet an enemy.
Yet I could not turn back with no other report than that
I had found nobody and seen nothir^g. So I went down
270 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the liill, crossed the brook at its foot, and, with cocked
pistol in hand, moved cautiously up the opposite slope,
keeping a sharp eye upon each tree, each bush, each
fallen log, that might cover a rebel picket. Nervous
•work. Just at the crest was a little pile of fresh earth, —
a rifle-pit ! It was empty. I satisfied myself of that point,
and then went up to examine it. It was large enough to
shelter but a single man, hastily dug, and apparently not
more than twenty-four hours old ; undoubtedly occupied
the night before by one of their pickets. I was glad he
had fallen back before I came down to the brook opposite
bis post.
"I didn't feel called upon to go any further, having
reached what had been so recently the rebel line ; and
returned, after a little further wandering, to the regiment,
reporting what I had and had not seen. Colonel Otis
sent me to General Foster, who inquired if I had been
beyond the ravine, and on my explanation, sent word to
the division-commander ; and a brigade was ordered to fill
the gap in the line.
"The skirmishers, who had gone far to the right, at
length made their way back to us, and the regiment,
advancing, finally crossed the same brook I had been over,
and halted in rear of the slope, while the skirmishers
ascended. The latter had hardly reached the high ground,
when the enemy's line opened upon them from just beyond ;
and they were immediately engaged in a brisk skirmish.
PUSHING THE ENEMY. 271
We lay clown ; Henry and I sitting together by a fallen
tree, while bullets flew fast over our heads. Not all over-
head. As Colonel Otis and I were passing down toward
the left to examine the position, we came upon an officer
lying dead or just dying, — the blood oozing from a ghastly
wound. Not a soldier near him : he had either come as
I came, alone, or been abandoned by his men. We,
of course, could do nothing for him then ; but the colonel
afterward had opportunity to speak of him to some of his
own regiment, and the body was carried away.
" The officers of our skirmish-line soon sent back word
that they were pushing the enemy ; had abeady driven
him from two lines of rifle-pits, and only wanted supports
to keep him going. Two more companies were immediately
sent. They had hardly had time to reach position, when
a cheer rang through the woods far to our right, and came
rolling down the line. We knew that Hawley's Brigade
was charging. The 24th took it up. Oiu' boys sprang
to their feet, and joined in the shout. Colonel Otis gave
the word, and the line rushed on, over the brow of the
hill, through the undergrowth where the skirmishing had
been so sharp, straight on without halt or hesitation,
while the rebel skirmishers vanished from before, until
the main line of rifle-pits was reached and occupied. But
to the left, where our skirmishers extended far beyond the
flank of tlie regiment, the enemy pressed them hard ; and
we heard they were beginning to fall back. Henry and
272 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
I went in that direction, and, moving a short distance
through the low pines, saw before us a few of our men
coming in from the front; not in panic, but in steady
retreat. We jumped forward, and called to them to halt
and stand firm. ' Orders to fall back, sir ! ' said one.
*Boys!' shouted Henry, 'the 10th never falls back!'
Ah ! there came a staff-officer, terribly flustered, and on
a trot toward the rear. ' There were orders,' said he,
apologetically, seeming to perceive, as I met him, that I
felt something more than mild surprise. ' They came
down from the right.' — 'I am from the right,' said I:
* there are no such orders there.' He sneaked away; and
our men, finding that they need not retreat, promptly
advanced once more toward the front.
" The regiment, having halted, formed and dressed its
ranks, soon moved forward again to a position near the
edge of a second and much larger ravine, on the opposite
side of which the rebels were intrenched in strono- works
curving around our left ; so that the ground held by our
advance was swept by a cross-fire against which no ordi-
nary cover afforded security. Word came from the skir-
mish-line that Captain White was wounded seriously, it
was feared mortally. Henry saw to his being carried back
to the hospital, where the other wounded had already gone,
and to which he was himself summoned, a few minutes
later, by a mes.^agc from one of them. ... In a short
time Henry returned : how glad we were to meet in safety I
SKIRMISHING. 273
With thoughtful kindness, he brought for us a huge water-
melon. It was speedily cut and divided ; General Fos-
ter very glad to get his share. What could have been
more refreshing under fire ? Before it was finished, orders
were given for our regiment to swing around, fronting the
left, and covering the flank, upon which an attack was
momentarily expected. It was comical enough to see
officers forming their men, enforcing their orders with
brandished slices of melon, and taking a bite between each
command.
" The remainder of the day was occupied with continual
skirmishing ; the main body being so near the advance as
to get the benefit of the fire from the enemy. Officers and
men sheltered themselves as well as possible. . . . Men
fell near us, both in the regimental line and among the
skirmishers; but our loss was slight in comparison with
that of the morning's advance. There was rain duiing
the afternoon ; but we were not in the mood to be greatly
concerned about a wetting. At dusk we retired a few
rods to the rifle-pits we had captured in the morning, — a
much more defensible position than that we had occupied
durino- the day, — and commenced at once throwing up a
line of works fronting toward the enemy. Large details
from each regiment were set at work chopping and shovel-
ing ; and by two in the morning a strong breastwork, three
or four feet thick at the top, and covered on the inside with
well-braced logs, covered the front of the whole brigade.
o
18
274 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
We should have been glad of sleep after such a day as had
passed, but we contented ourselves with a morning nap ;
and slept all the more soundly for knowing that we were
ready in case of an attack.
" Our loss during the day had been less in officers, but
greater in men, than on Monday. Captain White was
one of the finest officers in the reoiment. We hear now
that his situation is exceedingly critical ; [he died in hos-
pital.] Colonel Otis and Lieutenant Savage were each
hit, but not severely enough to take them from the field.
It was the third bullet or shell contusion, not drawino;
blood, which the colonel has received in battle, — singular,
isn't it ? Wounds of this sort are sometimes quite painful
and troublesome for weeks or even months.
" Poor Dennis Mahoney was shot through the body early
in the day. It was he who sent for Henry to come to the
hospital and see him. He was the ideal of a private
soldier. Tall and fine-looking ; always neat and soldierly
in dress and equipments ; always cheerful and prompt in
duty ; brave, to recklessness ; never missing a chance to
volunteer for an expedition, a scout, or any service of
danger ; full of fun and dash and spirit, — it would have
been difficult to match him in the regiment. . . .
" I was reported killed myself, and talked next day
with those who had not only been told by men of our
regiment that T had fallen, but who had themselves seen
and recognized my body as it lay upon the field, — so
FALLING BACK. 275
they certainly thought. I am glad to believe the story
couldn't well reach you."
The hastily erected breast-works were held for forty-
eight hours ; one or two attempts being made by the enemy,
meantime, at different points, to break the line. Thurs-
day noon there were indications of a contemplated with-
drawal of the Union troops.
"The movement which we expected," wrote Camp,
" commenced late in the afternoon; the troops on the right
retiring first, and so, brigade after brigade, down the line.
The time for us to march had not yet come. Hawley's
Brigade was passing, when a sharp fii-e opened a little to
our right, and speedily became general along the whole
picket-line. The enemy had evidently discovered that we
were moving, and meant to take advantage of it. Hawley's
men were hurried back just in time ; for the rebels came
on with a rush and a yell. All along our front, the
woods rang with their shouts and the rapid reports of
musketry; while the pickets, pressed back by numbers,
came hurrying in, climbing over the works, and somewhat
inclined, part of them, to continue their movement toward
the rear.
" Hardly waiting for all of these to come in, two regi-
ments near us now opened fire. The whole line of works
was ablaze with rifle-flashes, and the sound was one con-
tinuous roar. Our regiment was in reserve, deployed in
long open line, ten or fifteen yards behind the others, and de-
276 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
prived, of course, in gi-eat measure, of the shelter afforded
by the works. There was abeady some unsteadiness
among those who were firing, when our own artillery
opened from a position some distance to the rear, intend-
ing to fire over our heads, but dropping almost every shell
with horrible precision directly among us. Henry was
standing a few yards from me, when one of them exploded
in his very face, seemingly but a few inches above and be-
fore him, knocking him down, blinded and almost stunned,
by the flash and the concussion. It was a spherical
case. The fragments and the bullets they had enclosed
tore the trees and the ground all around, — before, behind,
and on every side ; but, most wonderfully and providen-
tially, he was unhurt. At the same moment, another
exploded among the men in front of our regiment. It was
more than they could stand. A dozen started for the
rear, a hundred followed, then the whole line broke,
turned back, and surged away from the works, through
oui* line, and into the woods.
" Our boys sprang forward to fill, as well as their thin
Hue enabled them to, the vacancy, and with cool deter-
mination held the enemy at bay. The 24th Massachusetts
stood firm on our right, — New-England Yankees, every
man ; all this was like a flash. As the break commenced,
our officers rushed among the fugitives, shouted encour-
agement, entreated, threatened, seized them, and flung
them back to the front, — all did our best to turn the
RETURN TO CAMP. 277
tide. I haven't worked so since the Worcester regatta.
We were in some degree successful. A dozen looked on
hesitatingly while our major flogged an officer, a six-foot
skulker, back to the works with the flat of his sword, and
concluded to stay there themselves. Indeed, I ought to
say that many of the regiment stood fast from the
first. . . .
" Having persuaded the enemy not to interfere with us,
the movement was resumed. Our regiment formed the
rear-guard, as so often before ; and, retiring but a short
distance, established a new picket-line, behind which the
rest of the army kept on its way toward the river. No
advance was attempted by the rebels until morning,
when they occupied, without resistance, the works which
we had abandoned. It was about three a.m. when we lay
down.
"A rainy night was followed by a rainy day. Our
pickets had some sharp exchanges of shots with the rebel
skirmishers. Six bullets struck the tree behind which
Sergeant Peck, of Company A, sheltered himself; and one
or two of our men on advanced posts narrowly escaped cap-
ture. At dark on Friday, our pickets were all gathered
in : and we marched over roads of horrible mud, throuo;h
the rain, until we reached, about midnight, the rest of the
brio;ade, again behind strono- works, at no OTeat distance
from the river. Our tired men stretched themselves upon
the soaked ground. We had a little fire built, and our
278 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
sbelter-tents stretched. Henry and I, however, had been,
without our rubber-coats, to gather in pickets at dark, and
were too thoroughly drenched to be dried in one night.
So we lay down, and, once asleep, it made no difference.
Saturday was another quiet, rainy day. We marched at
dark; reached Strawberry Plains; again established a
picket-line to cover general movements.
"Estabhshing a picket-line at midnight, stretching a
mile or more from right to left, especially if the weather is
dark and stormy, is no joke ; but we are pretty well accus-
tomed to it now. A short sleep and we were up again at
daybreak. All was safe. We were the only troops who
had not crossed the river. Falling back in skirmishing-
line, lest the enemy should attack at the last moment, we
assembled on the river-bank ; marched down to the water's
edge, across the pontoon, which workmen were already
taking to pieces, and stood once more upon the neck of
land along which lay the safe road to camp. It was the
first time for a week when we had felt secm-e from imme-
diate attack, — a pleasant relief from the continued strain
of watchful anxiety. An hour more, and the early sab-
bath morning found us in our pleasant old camp, weary
with a week of toil and of battle, rejoicing in the day of
quiet and of rest."
The 10th had taken out from camp fifteen line-oflicers
and about three hundred and forty men. Its casualties,
during the week of absence, were seven officers and sixty-
MARCHING ORDERS. 279
five men killed and wounded, and three men taken
prisoners.
Of the twenty-four hours succeeding the return of his
regiment, Camp wrote, —
"Sunday, Aug. 21, we had a quiet day of rest;
though there was too much to do, in the way of re-estab-
lishing ourselves, to allow us to lie down and sleep, as
we would gladly have done. We looked forward to the
night, determined to go to bed as soon after dark as pos-
sible, and sleep a good ten hours before rising again.
Henry held a prayer-meeting, unusually interesting and
well-attended, at dusk, in our large commissary tent ; and
we returned to our own quarters. Wouldn't we have a
good rest now ? Orders had arrived to be ready for an
immediate march ! The explosion of a mine under us
would have been nothing to it. Not that there was any
burst of indignation, or any considerable degree of grum-
bling. I have known five times as much over trifles not
worth speaking of; but it seemed to finish up whatever of
cheerful energy was left by the weariness of the week
among ofl&cers or men. There were the orders ; there
was nothing more to be said. We made our preparations
in a dogged, mechanical kind of a way. Henry and I
took a bath, — more refreshing than sleep, — and lay
down for a nap before word came for the march. It ar-
rived just before midnight. Where we were bound, no one
knew ; but it was rumored that we were to charge the works
280 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
ill front of our old position at Bermuda Hundred, — works
which once before, when the enemy had voluntarily aban-
doned them, we could not hold against his return ; works
behind which, with approaches swept by cross-fire of artil-
lery and infantry, impassable abattis, and deep ditch, a
brigade might hold at bay an army-corps. . . .
" We marched silently and gloomily. More than one
man fell from the ranks and was left by the roadside; not
because he shrank from sharing the risk of his comrades,
but because, from mere exhaustion, he was unable to go
further. So we moved slowly along our way, until about
half the distance was accomplished; then came orders,
unexpected as the first, to about-face, and marcb back to
camp. A much more cheerful and free-spoken set of men
promptly complied with them ; and we reached our quarters
again about half-past four, a.m.
" It was true that Birney had issued orders for an
attack upon those works, — why countermanded we do not
learn, — and there was reason to believe that our brigade
would have had the advance in the storming party. Our
men, had they been led to the assault, would have fought
well, but almost hopelessly ; and a small part of us only
would ever have left the field."
In this expression of opinion. Camp shadowed forth the
result of the assault in which, two months later, he lost
his life.
CHAPTER Xn.
IN THE PETERSBURG TRENCHES.
OT long after the return of the column from
New-3Iarket road to Deep Bottom, General Fos-
ter left the latter point to assume command of
a division elsewhere ; and the 3d Brio;ade was again in
charo-e of Colonel Plaisted of the 11th Maine. Auo;.
26, this brigade was relieved by the colored troops of
General Paine, and left Deep Bottom for the Petersburg
front, where the 10th Corps was ordered to relieve the
18th Corps.
" We had a tiresome march," wrote Camp of that move.
"It is about as fatiguino; to ride at a walk for ten or
fifteen miles as to march the same distance on foot. It was
cloudy overhead, muddy underneath, and, in the pine-
woods, pitchy dark.
*' We reached the Appomattox about 11.15, p.m., and,
after difficulty and delay in finding the road which led
down to the pontoon, learned upon reaching it that we
should have to wait for the passage of a wagon-train.
Meantime, the rain came down in torrents ; but we
wrapped our rubber-coats about us, lay down on the muddy
281
282 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
ground, and sle^Jt soundly. About one o'clock tlie road
TV'as clear, and we started again. It is a long distance
from one bank to the other, the bridge crossing several
low islands before high ground is reached on the farther
side. We went but a mile or two beyond ; the dark-
ness, solidified by blinding flashes of lightning, making
it impossible to distinguish the road. Our bivouac was
cheerless enough ; though a tent-fly, thrown over a couple
of rails which leaned against a tree, gave us such shelter
as few or none besides had.
" Saturday morning was bright and clear, and we
marched early. The country was very pleasant : high,
rolling ground, sloping down toward the winding Appo-
mattox ; fortifications everywhere ; pleasant residences not
a few, — abandoned, of course, — beautifully shaded by
huf»;e old trees, and commandino; fine views of the river
valley. Petersburg was plainly in sight, during a part of
the march, directly in front of us ; and, not more than two
or three miles distant, its streets and houses distinctly to be
seen. Henry and I wondered, if, with a good glass, we
couldn't have picked out the Bolingbroke House, where
we had each stopped in passing through the place.
'* About ten a.m. we reached the position assigned us, —
the deserted camp of a negro-regiment. I have hardly
seen so filthy or repulsive a spot since I have been in the
army ; every thing in the most shocking condition imagi-
nable. The main works were perhaps a quarter of a mile
BEFORE PETERSBURG. 283
in front of us, and on higher ground, so that we could
see nothing beyond. Parallel to them, where we were, a
brook ran through a shallow valley. It was this stream
that rose so suddenly, a few weeks since, as to drown
fourteen men of the 18th Corps, whose place we had now
taken. That side of the slope nearest the front was full
of burrows of all shapes and sizes ; some nicely faced with
logs, some mere rat-holes. One of the best of these we
made headquarters ; and the men dug and built for them-
selves strong shelters on the level ground in front of us.
" Before the precise spot for our camp had been indi-
cated, we halted upon the plain near by, and stacked arms
for dinner. ' You can't stay there,' said an officer to us,
* every one who stops there is killed.' The regiment
dined in peace, however, and was marched off by the senior
captain ; the field and staff waiting to finish a little more at
leisure. By and by the enemy's artillery opened. No
shells came very near, and we paid no special attention to
them. One, bursting some rods distant, called forth a re-
mark ; but we had ceased to speak or think of it, when, with
a fierce whiz, down came a fragment, — it must have been
thrown hig-h in air, — and buried itself in the earth about six
feet from Henry, and precisely where Colonel Otis had
been sitting a few minutes before. We began to think the
place might deserve its reputation ; but the firing ceased as
suddenly as it had commenced, with no more close
shots. . . .
284 TEE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
" At dusk, artillery re-opened on both sides. Mortar-
slielling at night is a beautiful sight. The burning fuze
of each projectile marks its course for the whole distance
of its flight. It rises like a rocket, moving apparently
only half as fast, sails slowly through the sky, sometimes
a mile above the earth, at the highest point of its enormous
curve, and descending, one would think at a distance, as
gently as a snow-flake ; but it strikes the earth with a
concussion which shakes the ground for many yards on
every side, and explodes with a report like that of the mor-
tar from which it came. One can see in the darkness pre-
cisely where it is coming, — it seems as if a good ball-player
wouldn't find it a difiicult catch, — and there is no need,
if a bomb-proof is within a few rods, of any one's being
hit by the shell before explosion ; but the fragments fly
in all directions, and fly far, striking sometimes, as in the
case I mentioned, long after it seems as if all danger must
be over. None of our men were hurt on Saturday even-
ing, though there were some narrow escapes. The 7th
New Hampshire, a little distance to our left, lost one killed
and several wounded. The man who was killed was
sitting near the breastwork, watching the shells. One
came directly toward him ; those who stood near scattered,
and called to him to hurry away ; but he gazed at it as if
fascinated, — moved not an inch. A moment more, and
the shell tore him to fragments."
The weeks passed by the 10th before Petersburg were
PICKET DUTY. 285
weeks of seldom intermitted peril. On the picket-line, in
the trenches, and in camp, there was constant danger of
death. Kifle bullets were whizzing past or striking near
one, wherever he went; and rarely a day passed without a
few hours of artillery-firing from the enemy. Even when
there was a tacit truce on the immediate front, sharp-shoot-
ers at right or left kept up their diagonal fire ; and, during
most of the time, active hostilities prevailed along the entire
line.
The position of the 10th was in front of General Meade's
headquarters ; its picket duty ranging from the opening of
the exploded mine under Cemetery Hill to the right of the
Second-Corps line, near the Jerusalem Plank Road.
" Near the right of our line," wrote Camp, of his first
tour of picket duty at Petersburg, " was a hollow, running
from front to rear ; and through this, more or less, bullets
were flying during a large part of the day, and all the even-
ing and night. One of our companies was stationed be-
yond this, and its position connected with the rest by a
lono- and exceedingly crooked covered way. Sometimes
for an hour or two there would be no firing, and one would
be tempted to take the short cut above ground ; but a bul-
let was very apt to whistle by when the experiment was
tried ; and the only prudent course was to take the long
way round, lest the other should prove emphatically a short
way home.
" It was evident that rebel sharpshooters were watching
286 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
tills place, and that tliey knew its every crook and turn.
The passer must move quickly, or his momentary appear-
ance where a side path branched off and left an opening,
or where an angle brought him for an instant into sight,
was the signal for a bullet too well aimed to be called a
chance shot. Henry and I convinced ourselves of this
before we had been long at our new station, and others had
the same experience."
Some of the incidents of the artillery-fire he thus de-
scribed : —
" They are shelling us again here in camp this afternoon ;
making pretty good practice, too, within the last few min-
utes. No one hit yet. A shell struck just now in the
road, behind a fellow who was carrying a pail of coffee. It
was amusing to see the coolness with which he slowly turned
round and took a good look at the spot, then trudged along
his way, without having spilled a drop of coffee, or been
apparently any more discomposed than if a snow-ball had
struck near him."
And, of another date : —
"In the afternoon, we were more heavily shelled than
at any time before, since that day at Bermuda Hundred ;
being compelled to leave our tents and take shelter in our
bombproof. The rebel gunners seemed to have our range
as accurately as if the ground had been measured for tar-
get practice. Henry, who was visiting the men in their
tents, had his regular narrow escape, — a shell bursting close
CASUALTIES. 287
to him, and the fragments striking everywhere, except
where he stood. The men begin to think he is bomb-proof
himself. A beautiful ricochet shot struck in the field be-
hind us : it could be seen, bounding along in half a dozen
successive leaps of 20 or 30 yards each, as distinctly as if
it had been a cricket-ball. Our mess-tent was hit, but not
a man in camp struck from first to last, wonderfully
enough. The Morris-Island experience of our men is use-
ful to them now ; they know just when and how to cover."
But men of the 10th often were hit. A sharp cry at
dead of night more than once gave indication that some
one had been wounded while asleep in his tent; and
casualties came to be so frequent, that officers and men
moved about with an ever-present consciousness that they
might fall the next minute. Frequently, one on stepping
from his tent would ask his friend to forward an open
letter, to attend to an unfinished business item, or to
remember some former request, in case he did not come
in again ; and every nerve was kept on tension by this
sense of personal peril, during the waking hours, — hardly
quieted even in sleep, when the patter of bullets gave
shape to troubled dreams.
Pickets were relieved only after nightfall, and there
were times when no man at the advanced posts, or even
at the main works, could show himself by daylight save
at the imminent risk of his life, so vigilant and accurate
were the rebel sharpshooters.
288 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
"Just before evening," wrote Camp of one such day,
*' Lieutenant Hickerson was struck in the face by a bullet.
He had seen the flash of the rebel rifle, and stooped long
enough, he thought, for the bullet to pass ; but it was an
enormously long range, and he lifted his head again just
in time to be hit. The ball struck the upper part of the
cheek-bone, close to the eye. Almost spent, it made
only a flesh-wound, painful, but not dangerous. An inch
higher, it would have entered the eye, and blinded or
killed him. The videttes coming in when relieved at dusk
brought with them one of their number who had been
mortally wounded at ten o'clock in the morning. He was
still living, though his brains were oozing out of a bullet-
hole through the head.
" So sharp had been the fire, so positive the certainty
of being hit, on those advanced posts, with the slightest
exposure, that it had been impossible to move him. None
but his companion in the same rifle-pit, and those on the
next post, to whom he called out the information, knew
until night that he had been hit. It was Henry Lyman,
of Company K, one of our tried and reliable men. His
companion — Bunnell, one of the same sort, scout and
sharpshooter — would have done for him any thing that
man could do ; but it was of no use to make an attem.pt.
Think of him spending the day in that rifle-pit, with his
dying friend, helpless, unable to lift his head without
bringing certain death upon himself! "
PICKET INTERCOURSE. 289
There were hours of sociability between the Petersburg
pickets, in the intermissions of firing at one point or another.
In a cornfield between the lines in front of the 3d Brigade,
they sometimes met for a friendly chat, or to barter, or for
a game at cards. One afternoon, while the 10th was on
picket, after an hour of lively shelling and some musketry-
firing, there was a rest from active hostilities. Then a
rebel soldier showed himself on the parapet of his works,
and, shaking a newspaper as a sign of truce, sprang over
into the cornfield. At once a hundred men from either
side were over their lines and side by side, exchanging
papers and coffee and tobacco, and renewing old acquaint-
ances, or forming new ones. Old schoolmates and fellow-
townsmen were, in several instances, found over against
each other. When, after a half-hour of this friendly inter-
course, fire was opened from one of the batteries, over the
heads of the cornfield party, officers and men hurried back
to their lines again, and hostilities were active as before.
"For my own part," wrote Camp of these times of
truce, " I have an uncomfortable sensation when I'm in a
situation where my safety depends on the good faith and
fairness of rebels. Our Morris-Island experience was one
not readily to be forgotten ; and I sha'n't be likely to lead
them again into any unnecessary temptation."
Here is an extract from another letter, written when no
truce existed : —
"I have just been out to watch the sharpshooting.
19
290 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
There is no longer any truce opposite our position, and one
can not safely raise his head above the parapet. I watched
for some time the shots which our boys made at a rebel
who had a capital position from which to fire, and made
good use of it. His head only was to be seen, and that
seldom. Half a dozen of our men would take aim at the
aperture where he appeared ; and one, with a field-glass,
would give notice when to fire. Then the dust would fly
all about the place, and he wouldn't come in sight again
for some minutes. When I left the trenches to return
here to our bomb-proof, he seemed to have left his post ;
whether hit, or only having come to the conclusion that it
was too dangerous a place, we couldn't tell. It was too
long range for accurate shooting with ordinary rifles, —
some five hundred yards between the main works, which,
at this point, are widely divergent.
" The rebels have a few sharpshooters with Whitworth
rifles, who are dangerous fellows to be seen by. One of
our men this morning had his hau- lifted by a bullet, fired,
like many others, through one of the apertures of the
parapet : another's face was grazed. As Colonel Plaisted
and I were standing close to the parapet, a bullet struck
it just in front of us, and so near the top as to throw the
dirt over us. As I was coming up the hill toward our
bomb-proof, another — chance, I think, for I could hardly
have been in sight — passed before my face so close, that
I involuntarily threw back my head, feeling the wind of it,
CLOSE FIRmO. 291
or fancying I did, as it went by. They are constantly
whizzing by our splinter-proof. Our orderly, who occupies
a smaller one near by, said that he saw three strike ours
within a few minutes. I presume many are buried in it.
Down in the ravine, there is a tree in whose trunk over
two hundred bullet-marks have been counted ; and there
are probably twice as many, if it could be, carefully
examined. Within the last half-hour a rebel battery has
opened upon one of ours a little to our rear, which answers
vigorously. We are directly under the line of fire, and
are in hopes that neither side — (Well, they did, just that
minute ; fired low, our own side ; struck the earth between
themselves and us, ricochetting overhead, but a little to the
left. Awkward experiment ! — don't want 'em to try it
again. The first rebel shot passed very near us, — too
low for the battery at which it was aimed : they are doing
better now. Still, if the rebel gunner should depress the
muzzle of his piece a quarter of an inch, it would probably
finish us. It is a sixty-four pounder, and one of its balls
would knock our splinter-proof into a cocked hat, and bury
us under the ruins. I hear now that the same man who
had the bullet throuQ-h his hair a little while ap;o has been
hit in the arm; nothing very serious, though it will lay
him up for a few days. Henry has been down to the 24th
camp to bury a man killed yesterday. I was anxious
about him, going and returning ; for bullets fly thick along
the wliole way ; and just in rear of our bomb-proof here,
292 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
is one of the worst places within a mile. Something of a
parenthesis I have made of it, haven't I?)"
Of the Sunday night after the news came of Sherman's
capture of Atlanta, Camp wrote : —
" We lay down early, and slept quietly until midnight.
Then suddenly broke forth such a cannonade as we had
heard only once before in all our experience, — the even-
ing of the attack on Wao-ner. We rose, and looked
around : our whole line was lit up by the flash of the
guns, and the roar was incessant. The rebels answered,
though with a fire of by no means equal intensity ; and the
sight was a magnificent one, — the blazing shells cutting
the sky in eveiy direction, bursting sometimes at the very
summit of their curve, and flashing the red glare of their
explosion on all beneath. Impressive pyrotechny ! What
it all meant we were at a loss to understand. There were
no signs of an attack by either party; and when, after
half an hour or so, the exhibition closed without any ap-
parent results, we went back to our blankets more mysti-
fied than ever. Next day we learned that it was a salute
for the fall of Atlanta. Thirty-six midnight guns from
each battery ; and, not to waste ammunition, the guns
were shotted, and Petersburg and its fortifications given
the benefit of them. The whole thing must have been
gratifying to our friends opposite. During the whole
time, the bands were playing national airs, — the music,
of course, adding materially to the effect."
WEAEINESS. 293
Of the shotted salute with which the rebels greeted the
passage of trains over General Grant's railroad from City
Point to Meade's extreme left. Camp wrote : —
"In the afternoon, we stood for awhile watching the
rebel artillery practice on our railroad-train. Nearly op-
posite our camp is a place where the new military road
toward Warren's position passes in plain sight of the rebel
works, and within range of rifled-guns, though nearly a
mile to our rear. They fire frequently at the cars, and
have made some capital shots, though never yet hitting
them. We can hear the bolt hum through the air over-
head, and have plenty of time to step out of the tent and
look toward the train before it strikes. Of late, our guns
have opened on the rebel battery every time a train ap-
proached ; but they can't prevent the one shot which
comes almost as regularly as the train passes. The range
is probably a mile and a half; and the shooting has been
accurate at a moving object, — a pretty difiicult job."
In one of Camp's letters from the Petersburg front is
found ahuost the only expression of wearisomeness in his
work which escaped him from the hour he entered service
until his death. It gives evidence of the terrible pressure
of the prolonged and bloody campaign of 1864, even on
the bravest and truest.
"The activity of this life has intense pleasure," he
wrote; " but it has weariness too. The strain of excite-
ment and of anxiety, the wear and tear of such work as
294 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
ours, begin to tell upon me. Not that I am breaking
down under it, or ready to abandon the task wliich must
be accomplished, or even that I would return to such play-
day, pleasant soldiering as our occupation of Newberne.
But I am beginning to long for the end on personal as
well as patriotic grounds. I used to feel differently, you
know. Home would seem very attractive to me now,
rest very pleasant, could I feel that my place was any-
where else than here, my work any other than this.
Perhaps I should be restless and uneasy away from ex-
citement. I certainly should while the war lasts ; but,
when peace comes, I think I shall be ready (if I am alive
then) for at least a few months of quiet. There was none
in prison-life, — less even than now ; and the time since I
last knew what it meant beoins to seem Ions:."
It was soon after the 10th went to Petersburg that
Camp received from Governor Buckingham his well-de-
served commission as major of the regiment. The num-
ber of men on the rolls of the 10th being below the
standard required for three field-officers, there was some
delay in Camp's muster-in ; but General Butler, being
made acquainted with the facts, issued a special order
directing his muster, as demanded by the necessities of the
service ; and on the 25th of September, being duly quali-
fied, he assumed the duties of his new position.
REST. 295
Saturday afternoon, Sept. 24, brought orders to the
10th Corps to be ready, that night, to be relieved by the
2d Corps, — a portion of which had been some time in
reserve in the rear of the line at the left of the 10th.
Preparations were hastily made ; and, at midnight, the
troops of the corps were withdrawn to the level ground in
the rear of General Birney's headquarters. There was a
halt, and a delay of several days ; the time being occu-
pied in drilling, and in parades, — a service almost un-
known since the campaign opened in May. It was with a
restful feeling that the tired troops found themselves out
of reach of the enemy's guns, and permitted to move
about without expecting momentarily the hiss of a bullet
or the whiz of a shell. The rest was needed, both in
view of what had gone before, and what was so soon to
come.
CHAPTER XIIL
LIFE AND DEATH BEFORE EICHMOXD.
OON after noon of Wednesday, Sept. 28, tbe
10th Corps was again in motion. From its
camping -ground before Petersburg it moved
hurriedly, yet with the tedious slowness of any long col-
umn, toward the Appomattox, over the pontoon at Broad-
way Landing, across the Bermuda-Hundred Peninsula, and
to the north bank of the James, from the Jones's-Neck
pontoon to Deep Bottom.
The 10th Regiment had commenced its march soon after
three p.m. It was half-past two a.m. when it halted at Deep
Bottom ; and those of its heavily laden men who had not fall-
en out exhausted by the way dropped, foot-sore and weary,
on the wet grass of the familiar ground, where, before, they
had camped and picketed and stood fii-e and fought, and
buried their dead, and from which, a month previous, they
had gone out with no thought of a return.
As they lay down, word came to them that they must
move again in light marching order, at four a.m.; and to
move was to fight, where the enemy held his lines as close-
ly as about Deep Bottom. With such an announcement,
296
DEEP BOTTOM. . 297
but little of rest was secured in the single hour allowed
them for sleep ; and it required true moral courage to lift
men up when the line was formed in the darkness of the
early morning, and to carry them forward in the hurried
march to the very front where so many of their comrades
had fallen on that remembered sabbath of battle in Au-
gust.
But the morning move was less bloody to the 3d Brig-
ade than was anticipated. The 18th Corps, having crossed
the river at Yarnia Landing, made a successful advance '
against the strong works at Chaffin's Bluff, while the col-
ored troops of the 10th Corps pushed out beyond the Grover
House, driving the enemy, and causing him to fall back
from before the front of Colonel Plaisted's Brigade, which
advanced on the extreme right along the bank of Four-
Mile Creek, until the entire fortifications on and about
New-Market Eights were carried. For several hours,
the victorious lines pressed steadily on, driving all before
them. Only Fort Glilmer checked the advance in any
direction. General Terry's Division, including the 10th
Regiment, moved, during the afternoon, up the Central or
Darbytown Road toward Richmond ; the head of his col-
umn reaching a point within three miles of the city, of
which the roofs and spires were in full view. Had it been
deemed advisable, he might, doubtless, have pressed di-
rectly into Richmond ; but the condition of affairs on other
parts of the line rendered this inexpedient. He retired
298 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
at nightfall to the new line established by the 10th and
18th Corps, where intrenching was already going on rap-
idly.
The next few days were days of activity and of priva-
tion. The enemy made several attempts to retake his lost
works at Chaffin's Blujff, and to drive back General Teny's
lines near the New-Market Road. The troops stood to
arms much of the time, and were frequently under fire.
The officers of the 10th Regiment had left all their bag-
gage, even their blankets, at Deep Bottom, on Thurs-
day morning ; and the field and staff had come forward
without their horses. Thursday night was cloudy ; but no
rain fell. On Friday it commenced to rain. Without
shelter of any kind, and no bed save the soft clay of the
traveled road, but comfortless sleep was secured during
the drenching storm of the following night ; and Saturday
morning, when it came, gave only the opportunity to rise
up, and take the rain perpendicularly instead of horizon-
tally.
Of a bold move by the 10th, on the afternoon of that
day, up the New-Market Road to Laurel Hill, unsupported
on either flank. Camp wrote as follows : —
" On Saturday afternoon our regiment was ordered out
alone to make a diversion in favor of General Terry, who,
with two brigades, was demonstrating upon the rebel lines
further to our right. It was still raining, as it had been
all day, and the mud was beyond description. All of us
SKIRMISHING. 299
footed it. Passing by the picket-line, we halted where
the road ran through thick woods, and threw forward skir-
mishers. They speedily came upon the enemy's vedettes.
We heard the cry of ' Halt, halt ! ' followed by a dozen
shots ; and presently a prisoner came back, one of our men
hurrying him down the road at a double-quick. Two oth-
ers had succeeded, although fired upon, in making their
escape. The only anxiety our chap seemed to feel was
to be taken out of the way of any further fighting. He
was afraid, perhaps, of being recaptured,
" Colonel Otis now went forward to the skirmish-line.
Henry went up to a house near which the captured vedette
had been posted. I, of course, had to remain with the
regiment. In the house were some poor, sadly frightened
women, whom he, as far as possible, re-assured, and to whom
he returned a few minutes later with hard-bread (for they
said it was very difficult to obtain food) ; and afterward
the colonel sent them some coffee, a luxury to which they
had been long unaccustomed. The division-officer of the
day [Major Randlett of the 3d New Hampshire] speak-
ing of a good position near this house, I moved the regi-
ment forward, and occupied it ; and, Colonel Otis soon
returning, the skirmish-line was strengthened and still fur-
ther advanced.
' ' Presently our men reported themselves flanked upon
the left, and a cross-fire poured upon them. Sergeant
Williams was shot through the small of the back, the bul-
300 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
let grazing the spine and inflicting a mortal wound. A
private of the same name was shot through both thighs.
These men were brought back upon stretchers, attended
by Dr. Hart on the spot, and sent away to the field-hospi-
tal. A wounded rebel, left by his comrades in their retreat,
was also brought in, moaning and groaning most piteously,
even when treated with all possible kindness, and assured
that he would be well cared for. Our men had not uttered
a sound in their pain : it is rare that a wounded man
does.- This one claimed to be a Union man, forced against
his will into the ranks, attempting to join us when he was
shot ; said that papers in his pocket-book would prove it.
So Henry opened it for him, and there, tucked away in an
inner pocket, was a little wood-cut of the American flag,
and a cautiously worded statement that was reliable,
and might be trusted by any friend of the subscriber,
signed by one whom inquiry showed to be a known friend
of Government. Henry went down to Greneral Butler's
in the evening to see about it ; and, the poor fellow's state-
ment proving true, he is well cared for. Hosts of such
men are fighting us on just such compulsion as brought
this man to it.
" Company K was sent out to drive back the enemy
on our flank : they did it, and we sustained no more loss.
Reaching a good position for the purpose, and having
moved forward quite as far as was prudent, considering
that we were entirely without support, and that a force of
DIVISION OFFICER. 301
the enemy could be seen pushing toward the right, where
they could flank us more safely than on the left, we halted,
and waited for dark ; keeping up a continual skirmish-fire
with the enemy, who occupied the crest of a little slope just
in front. At dusk, I went up to the line, withdrew it,
and, returning to the reserve, we marched into camp,
" We had in this affair but one Hne-officer [Lieutenant
Benjamin Wright] with the regiment ; the rest being ab-
sent, sick, or excused. But our men can't be prevented
from fighting well when they are once sent forward, with
orders or without. They know what's wanted, and have
such an inveterate habit of removing any thing that
stands in the way, that it would be hard to break 'em of
it. Colonel Plaisted is enthusiastic about the regiment,
and never fails to speak well of us in his reports."
On Monday, Oct. 3, upward of one hundred of
the old men of the 10th, whose term of service had ex-
pired, left the regiment for their homes, — several of their
ojfficers accompanying them. This seriously reduced the
battalion, and increased the pressure of duty upon the few
remaining officers. Camp was on Wednesday division-
officer of the day, having an oversight of the picket-line
on either side of the New-Market Road, and receiving a
flag of truce borne by Major Wood and other rebel officers,
with letters for Lieutenant-Colonel Mulford.
On Thursday, Colonel Otis being corps-officer of the
day, Camp was in command of the regiment, which was
302 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
that day paid for four months' service by Major Holmes.
Li the evening, a wayside prayer-meeting was held by a
blazing camp-fire. Although the day had been a busy
one, and special duties devolved on him, Major Camp was
present at that gathering for worship ; and the pleasant
tones of his inspiring voice were heard in prayer, as so
often before, but as never again, in the presence of the
reo'iment.
Deserters from the enemy had announced an attack
as contemplated for Friday morning (Oct. 7), and ar-
rangements were made to receive it. Yet so many an-
nouncements of the kind had proved incorrect, that few
anticipated trouble, even while they faithfully obeyed the
orders received ; and when, after a night of vigilance,
the morning came with no disturbance, there was many a
joke cracked over the last needless scare. But about
eight, A.M., sharp firing was heard over at the extreme
right, soon followed by orders to be ready to move in
heavy marching order. The firing increased ; artillery and
musketry were heard, — all in the direction of General
Kautz's cavalry-position. Flying horsemen were seen
coming in from the right, through ih.Q swamps and thick-
ets, in wild disorder. The command came to move rapidly
down the road toward the rear.
All seemed to indicate a retreat. The camps and
breastworks were being deserted, and the road was al-
ready thronged with retuing columns of cavalry, infantry,
FLANKED. 303
and artillery ; while ambulances and baggage-wagons dis-
puted progress with the mass of moving men ; and along
either side of the way hurried cooks with their knapsacks
on their backs, and huge coffee-kettles swung on poles
between them ; invalids liiliping as rapidly as their feeble
limbs would bear them; officers' servants "toting" heavy
loads of personal baggage ; surgeons driving their patients
before them, or starting up those who were already drop-
ping with exhaustion ; sutlers' clerks and runners with
their extra supply of " truck," brought up in view of the
recent pay-day ; and shirks and cowards pushing ahead of
their regiments, on one plea or another, as they fall behind
on an advance.
Officers and men exchanged disturbed, distnistful looks,
as only on a retreat, when trouble is anticipated, and there
is chagrin at apparent failure. But no retreat was really
contemplated. The right flank of Major-General Bu'ney's
fortified position, held by General Kautz, had been turned,
with a considerable loss to the latter of men and guns ;
and the enemy, in strong force, was now pressing down to
follow up the advantage he had gained. General Birney
had withdrawn troops from the left to enable him to form a
new line of defense at right angles to his works, and thus
resist the progress of the enemy. General Terry's division
had been selected for this duty; and Plaisted's Brigade
was merely being sent down the road to the right of the
new line. Beaching the Cox-Farm Boad, this brigade
304 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
deployed, and moved forward en echelon, connecting on
tbc left with Hawley's Brigade. Camp's description of
the battle continues from this point.
"Heavy firing was going on in the direction of the
place we had left, — principally artillery ; while the al-
most continuous roar of musketry nearer, and upon our
left as we stood, seemed to show that the rebels were feel-
in q; for the end of our line, — each successive attack com-
inir nearer and nearer. When the brigade next us became
en2;ao;ed, includino; the 7th Connecticut, with its seven-
shooting rifles, the crash was beyond any thing I had ever
heard. We shook our heads as we listened : ammunition
could hold out but very few minutes at that rate ; and we
knew that, as always, nine shots out of ten must be wasted.
Yet, as it afterward proved, that tenth shot did fearful
execution.
" We hadn't long to wait and comment. A rattling
volley in our own front showed that the skirmishers were
engaged ; and, in a moment more, they came hurrying
back through the dense pine-woods before us, — the rebels
close upon them. (These were not our own men, who
had been left far to the right when the main body of the
regiment last moved.) There was a brief delay while
they were gaining a place of safety. One poor fellow
staggered toward where I stood, the blood pouring down
his face from a wound just received. He was behind the
rest; perhaps he could not move as fast as they. We
THE FIGHT. 305
would have waited longer, but could not. While the
bullets of the rebel skirmishers flew among us, their main
body was forming line just behind for the attack, — their
feet plainly to be seen beneath the low-growing foliage,
which concealed their bodies as they dressed their ranks.
It was no time to stop for one man's life, whether friend
or foe : our line opened fire, and he dropped. Probably
it was only to avoid as much as possible this new danger.
I do not think he was hit ; but I did not see him again :
and, looking for him after the fight was over, he was gone.
" The rebels opened in return, and the bullets flew fast.
Colonel Otis stood near the right of the line ; I at the
left. We had hardly a hundred men in the ranks ; and
the regiment looked like a single company, with a captain
and lieutenant to manage it. The men needed little in
the way of orders or instruction, â €” they knew just what
to do, and did it. At the first fire, the regiment on our
right turned and ran. Our men saw it ; knew that their
flank was now exposed ; nothing there to hinder the im-
mediate advance of the enemy. Nothing is so apt to
strike men with panic. Our men paid no other attention
to it than to give a rousing cheer just to show the enemy
that they had no thought of giving ground, then turn
steadily to their work. Each man stood fast. Where a
comrade fell they gave him room to lie, — no more. There
was no random firing in air, but rapid loading, cool aim,
and shots that told. It was good to see such fighting.
20
306 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
Those whom we met were no raw recruits. They fouo-hfc
well. For awhile, though unable to advance, they stood
their ground. Broken once, they rallied again at the
appeal of their officers, and once more tried to move for-
ward through the fire that mowed them down. It was of
no use : again thrown into confusion, they fell back,
leaving theii' dead and wounded upon the field. Amono-
the former was a captain, said to have been in command
of the regiment ; while opposite other parts of our division-
line lay officers of different ranks among the bodies of their
men. Surgeons said that they attended as many rebel
as Union soldiers ; and when it is considered how many
must have been carried away, or hobbled off themselves,
the total rebel loss must have been very heavy. It is said
that among them were two generals, — one killed and one
wounded.
" There is no doubt that they had at least two divisions,
— Field's and Hoke's, — probably more. Prisoners re-
ported Lee in person superintending the movement. A
woman at a house close by speaks of meeting him there,
and describes his appearance. Possibly it was so. Two
rebels who gave themselves up voluntarily to one of our
men just after the fight told us that the woods were full
of others who were anxious to come in, but who feared
to attempt it, lest they should fall into the hands of the
negro troops, who, they believed, would give them no
quarter.
THE LAST LETTER. 307
" Although our loss was not large, the affair was, while
it lasted, a very brisk one. Our fighting hitherto has
been almost exclusively skirmishing. It was the first time
since I have rejoined the regiment that simultaneous fire
has been opened by the companies of the battalion-line.
We have seldom had an opportunity to stand and receive
an enemy ; and even now, we had to leave our intrenched
position, and meet them without any advantages of defense.
But we are well content with even terms, and would ask
nothing better than to have them always. Now, if we
could only have a full regiment of men like this handful
left to us ! — there's nothing which we shouldn't feel as
if we could do. The three New-England regiments of
our brigade are as good men as ever fought.
" Deserters reported that Lee was coming down on us
again this morning, this time with three army corps ; but
he didn't make his appearance. The rumor now is that
he only postponed operations twenty-four hours, and will
certainly attack at daylight to-morrow. Don't believe,
now that we are ready for him, that he'll give us a chance
to fight him behind works. Still, he may find a weak spot
somewhere between here and Deep Bottom. As the mail
doesn't go until to-morrow afternoon, perhaps I shall tell
you about it in a P.S., or somebody else may."
Camp never finished another home-letter. In this, he
failed to tell of himself, as he appeared to others in that
hour of sharp conflict. Calmly and quietly he moved
308 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
along the battle -line wbile the fight raged fiercest,
saying firm and encouraging words to the brave men
before him, pointing with his sword in the direction
whence the enemy's fire was sharpest, and enjoining a
low and well-aimed return-fire as coolly as he would have
superintended harmless target-practice. Hidden once or
twice, in the dense smoke, from the friend who watched
him with intent and anxious gaze, it seemed for a few
burdened seconds as if he also had fallen ; but while
the breath of the watcher was stayed, and the heart
suspended its throbs, again his flashing sword was seen
through the rifted smoke-cloud, and his form stood erect
and noble as before. And, when the firing ceased, his
face showed no flush of excitement, his voice betrayed
no unusual emotion : his only impulse was to thank God
for victory, and to bless the brave boys whose unflinch-
ing steadiness had won it.
The next few days after the battle of the seventh were
occupied by the troops of Terry's Division in finishing
breastworks along the front they had then so nobly de-
fended. On the evening of Sabbath, the ninth. Camp
attended a preaching service at the regimental bivouac.
On Tuesday, the eleventh, he deposited with the commis-
sioners appointed to receive the votes of Connecticut sol-
diers in the field, his second vote for Abraham Lincoln
as President, — a vote which was never counted at home,
because of his death prior to the day of election.
A NEW MOVEMENT. 309
Soon after noon of Thursday, Oct. 12, orders were
received for the reo;iment to move at once in ho-ht marchino;
order. At half past four it left camp, and, with the re-
mainder of its brigade, passed out, through a sally-port of
the works, near the New-Market Road. The whole of the
1st Division, temporarily commanded by General Ames,
— General Terry being in command of the corps, —
was in motion. On the broad fields of the Cox Farm
there was a halt, the three brigades resting in successive
lines of battle. Rain commenced falling. The afternoon
was dreary. General Ames and staff, and the brigade-
commanders, sat or stood on the piazza of the plantation-
house. Regimental and company officers gathered in little
knots, and chatted in the dismal storm. The men lolled
on the wet grass, talking and laughing as merrily as
though they had no wish for better quarters.
Major Camp and his friend joined Colonel Rockwell
of the 6th Connecticut Volunteers ; and the three indulged
in conjectures as to the nature and probable results of
the new and sudden move. Then, looking about them,
they spoke of how many now in careless ease were un-
likely to see the termination of this advance. The trials
and anxieties of the prolonged campaign were referred
to, not sadly but seriously; and cheerful words were
also uttered, and a hearty, mutual laugh was enjoyed.
An hour passed by. Then there was a new start. The
column once more in motion wound its slow way along
310 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the hillside, around to the left ; and, to the surprise of all,
back to the works again, and in through another sally-port
than that by which it had passed out. The troops re-
turned to then' several camps. A flag of truce coming in
from the enemy had suspended the move for the time
being, and a night of rest was to be substituted for one
of fatigue and exposure. The friends sat writing and
talking until past midnight. Then, for the last time, they
read their evening chapter, prayed together, and lay down
side by side, as so often before.
At three, a.m., they were up again; and at four, the
regiment was once more in motion. In the darkness of
the early morning, the column passed out beyond the
works, by the Cox Farm, through the woods, across the
ravine, on to the Johnson Place ; thence, after a brief
halt, to close up the lines, over the Darby town Eoad, to the
extensive plains between that and the Charles-City Road.
There was another halt to form for an attack.
The morning was dehghtful. It was the opening of a
bright October day. The air was clear and bracing. The
first rays of the rising sun were reflected from the frosted
surface of the wide-reaching grassy fields, and from the
many hued forest -trees beyond, as the skirmishers of three
brigades deployed, and moved in their wavy line, extend-
ing far to right and left, up toward the belt of woods
where the enemy's mounted vedettes were distinctly seen.
General, staff, and regimental officers rode hither and
PIiEPARATI02^. 311
thither. Corps, division, and brigade flags were in sight.
Long lines of infantry with flashing arms and waving stand-
ards were coming up by the flank or advancing in battle-
front. Cavaby, with rattling sabers and fluttering camp-
colors, clattered along the road, and the brilliant guidons
of the artillery — yet far at the rear — signaled the ap-
proach of the rumbling batteries. The scene was exhila-
rating and inspiriting ; and no one more thoroughly appreci-
ated and heartily enjoyed it than young Major Camp as he
rode back and forth, conveying orders and bearing messages.
The first fire of the skirmishers opened. The enemy's
advanced hne was easily pressed back to his strongly in-
trenched position beyond the woods. Tliere his skirmishers
were re-enforced, and the progress of the attacking party
was stayed. For several houi's, the fighting was brisk be-
tween the opposing skirmish-lines ; the main force halting
in line of battle in close reserve. Four companies of the
10th skirmished under Lieutenant Linsley ; the other six
were in reserve, in charge of the three field-officers. The
forenoon dragged along slowly. Artillery-fii-e was shai'p
for a time, and the rattle of musketry was incessant. Men
were killed and wounded close at hand as the little group
of officers of the 10th sat chatting together; and word came
frequently that one or another good soldier had fallen on
the skirmish-line. An occasional narrow escape to some
of the party from a flying bullet or shell fragment would
cause a passing remark, or, perhaps, raise a laugh. No one
812 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER,
expected to be hit himself, for he had escaped so many
times before. Dinner was brought up and eaten under
fire. Then Camp stretched himself on the ground, and
was lulled to sleep by the sound of the battle.
Soon after noon, he was started up to lead a party of
men down the road on a mission from the corps-commander.
While he was away, Colonel Otis received orders to re-
port at once with the remainder of his regiment to Colonel
Pond, commandino" the 1st Brioade, at the extreme ri2;ht
of the division. No sooner was the new position reached,
than the formation of troops was seen to indicate an assault
on the works in front ; and a chill ran over many an old
soldier's frame. The enemy was known to be strongly in-
trenched ; and an advance could be made at this point only
by a dense thicket of scrub-oaks, and laurels, and tangled
vines, through which a way could not be forced save
slowly and step by step. A dashing, resistless charge
was impossible ; and the small force ordered forward was
not likely to prove any match for the now heavily re-enforced
lines of the foe. There was a disturbed look on the face
of every officer, and from many outspoken protests were
heard.
When the chaplain saw the condition of affairs, his hope
and prayer was that his friend would not return in season
to share the perils of the assault, since he could probably
in no way affect its result. But, while the column waited,
Major Camp appeared, wiping from his face the perspira-
THE ASSAULT. 313
tion caused by his exertions to rejoin his regiment without
delay. As he came up, the chaplain's face fell with dis-
appointment. Reading the look, Camp said quickly and
tenderly, " \Yhy, what is the matter, Henry? has any
thing happened ? " — " No ; but I'm sorry you've returned
in time for this assault." — " Oh ! don't say so, my dear
fellow ; I thank God I'm back." — " But you can do no
good, and I'm afraid for you." — "Well, you wouldn't
have the regiment go in with me behind, would you ? No,
no! In any event, I thank God I am here! ^^ Then he
moved about among his comrades, with a bright and cheer-
ful face, like a gleam of sunshine through gathering clouds.
Never a word of doubt or distrust did he express as to the
pending move, although his opinion was probably the same
with the others as to its inevitable issue. Many near him
were as regardless of personal danger as he, and would go
as fearlessly into the thickest of the fray ; but few, if any,
showed such sublimity of moral courage, in meeting, with-
out a murmur, his responsibilities at such an hour. "I
don't like this blue talking," he said, aside to his friend.
" The men see it, and it affects them. If we must go, we
must; and the true way is to make the best of it."
The shattered remnant of the 10th had the right of the
assaulting column, which was formed in two lines of battle.
Colonel Otis led the right and front. Lieutenant-Colonel
Greeley led the right of the second line, — the left of which
was assigned to Major Camp. " May I not as well take
814 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
the left of the /ro7z^ line, Colonel?" Camp asked in his
quiet way. " Certainly, if you prefer it," was the reply ;
and he took his place accordingly, — not that the advanced
position was more honorable, nor yet because it was more
exposed, but from the belief that it gave him a better op-
portunity to lead and encourage the men. As he drew
his pistol from its case, and thrust it loosely through his
belt for instant use in the deadly struggle, and unsheathed
his sword, he said to his friend, "I don't quite like this
half-hearted way of fighting. If we were ordered to go
into that work at all hazards, I should know just what
to do ; but we are told to go on as far as those at our
left advance, and to fall back when they retire. Such
orders are perplexing." And they were; for the men
of the 10th had never yet failed to do the work assigned
them, — never yet fallen back under the pressure of the
enemy.
The two friends talked of the possibilities of the hour,
speaking freely of the delightful past and as to the proba-
ble future. " If we don't meet again here, we will hope
to meet in heaven," said the chaplain. "Yes," replied
Camp ; " and yet I have been so absorbed in this life, that
I can hardly realize that there is another beyond." After
a few more words on this theme, the friends clasped hands,
and Camp said warmly, " Good-bye, Henry I good-bye ! "
The wordi? sent a chill to the other's heart ; and, as he
moved to the right of the line, they rang in his ears as
GOOD-BYE. 315
a sound of deep and fearful meaning. Good-bye ! that
farewell bad never before been uttered in all the partings
of a score and a half of battle-fields. It was first appropri-
ate now.
The signal was given for a start : the men raised the
charging cry with a tone that rather indicated a willingness
to obey than a hope of success ; and the doomed column
struggled forward, through the impeding undergrowth of
the dense wood, through the crashing sweep of grape and
canister, and the fatal hiss and hum of flying bullets.
Those latest words had so impressed the chaplain with the
idea that this hour was his comrade's last on earth, that he
felt he must see him yet again, and have another and more
cheering assurance of his faith than that natural expression
of inability in the present to fully realize the eternal future.
He turned once more to the left, and pressed on to over-
take the major, whom he saw in the advance, pushing his
way along toward the furthermost front of death. Every
step was an eflTort. The struggle to reach his friend was
almost as the hopeless chase in a nightmare dream. Oh
for some superhuman arm to remove the intervening thick-
et ere the one or the other fell prostrate ! At length they
were side by side in the deadly race. As the chaplain laid
his hand on the other's arm, Camp turned with a loving
look of glad surprise. " You said, Henry, that you
could not realize you had a home in heaven. You do not
doubt your Saviour, do you? " asked the chaplain as they
316 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
pressed or togetber. Camp's face lighted up inspiringly,
all aglow with excitement, expressive in its story of tender-
est affection, of true courage, and of firmest faith. It was
never more fair or bright or beautiful than in that hour
and place of death, as the peerless Christian soldier said,
with warmth and earnestness, "No, no! dear fellow ! I
do not doubt. I do trust Jesus, fully, wholly." With
another good-bye, the two friends parted.
The chaplain turned to his work among the many dying
and wounded. The major struggled on, through the thick-
et, out to the open space before the enemy's works ; and
there, when all at his left had fallen back, when only the
brave men of the steadfast 10th at his right were yet pressing
forward, he stood for a moment to re-form the broken line
which could not be maintained in the tans-led wood. The
rebel parapet was but a few rods in his front. From the
double battle-line behind it, the rifles poured forth their
ceaseless fire of death. His tall and manly form was too
distinct a target to escape special notice from the foe.
Waving his sword, he called aloud cheerily, " Come on,
boys, come on ! " then turned to the color-sergeant just
emerging from the thicket, that he might rally the men on
the regimental standard. As he did so, a bullet passed
through his lungs; and, as he fell on his side, he was
pierced yet again and again by the thick-coming shot. His
death was as by the lightning's stroke. His eyes scarce
turned from their glance at the tattered, dear old flag, ore
DEATH. 317
they were closed to earth, and opened again beyond the
stars and their field of blue.
The few remaining veterans of the 10th were alone
before the enemy's well-defended stronghold. They had
performed the part assigned them. Had the order been
to go on at all hazards, they would never have turned
about, even though no man of their number had crowned
the bristling parapet in their front. But the brigade-
commander who directed their movements had already
fallen back with the remainder of his troops. Seeing this,
Colonel Otis and Lieutenant-Colonel Greeley retired in
good order their little band of now less than fifty men,
and reached again their starting-point ; having lost more
than one-half the battalion, dead or wounded, in the fruit-
less charge. Major Camp's body was left where he fell.
It was in vain that his stricken friend sought to reach and
recover it. The enemy closely followed up the retiring
column with a skirmish-line, and held the bloody field,
with its dead and wounded. This closed the a2;o;ressive
movements of the day. General Ames's division shortly
after recrossed the Darbytown Road, and withdrew to the
line of works it had left in the morning.
Before Camp's body was really cold, the enemy — as
was afterward learned from the wounded who were near
him — took from his person his sword and pistol, his
watch and regatta-ring, his money and papers, and even
stripped him of all his outer garments. The next morn-
318 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
ing, Colonel Rockwell of the 6th Connecticut, accompanied
bj Chaplain Trumbull and Lieutenant Shreve, bore out
a flag of truce with a communication from Major-General
Terry to the Commander of the Confederate forces on the
Darbytown Road, requesting the return of Major Camp's
remains. The party were halted at the foot of the hill on
the road beyond the Johnson Place, at a point midway
between the opposing picket-lines, and there made to wait
until a reply could be received from the request they
brought. Captain Simms, of South Carolina, an officer of
the general's staflf, soon responded to the communication,
and stated that the desired remains were being exhumed
without delay ; having been already several hours buried.
When they were finally borne down the road. Captain
Simms expressed his sincere regret that the clothing and
valuables had been taken from the body ; and, when the
chaplain expressed a strong desire for the personal diary
of his friend, courteously promised to seek and recover
that if possible. Subsequently, having obtained it by no
little search, he kindly sent it through the lines, infor-
mally, to the great satisfaction of the home-friends of the
fallen soldier.
CHAPTEH XIY.
MEMORIAL TRIBUTES.
HE chaplain accompanied the remains of his
friend to Hartford, — reaching there on the
evening of Wednesday, Oct. 19. The funeral-
services were attended the next Friday afternoon. Of
these a sketch is copied from the columns of the " Daily
Post:'
" A prayer was oflered at the residence of his father on
Woodland Street, whence the remains were taken to the
North Church. The Kev. Mr. Spaulding, pastor of the
church, opened the exercises with prayer, and then read
the most beautiful consolatory passages which the Bible
contains in its sacred pages. The choir sang the hymn
commencing,
•' ' Why should our tears in sorrow fall
When God recalls his own?'
" Rev. Henry Clay Trumbull, the chaplain of the 10th
Connecticut Regiment, an intimate friend of this young offi-
cer, delivered a splendid but most just eulogy upon the
character of Major Camp. Even from his youth, he said, he
319
320 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
had gained the respect and esteem of every one who knew
him. He grew up with this same purity of life and man-
ners. During the whole period of the chaplain's intimate
acquaintance with him, in the bivouac and battle, in hos-
pital and in prison, he had never known him to say or do
any thing inconsistent with what he believed to be his duty ;
always a Christian, without obtruding his piety, patient, en-
during, courageous in the discharge of his duty, not hesitat-
ing to expose himself to danger if he could accomplish the
most by so doing. Just previous to his going into his last
battle, he expressed his perfect trust in his Saviour, and then
took his position in the front line, and went forward calmly
and gallantly to death. The words which he addressed to
his friend, the chaplain, telling him of his reliance upon his
God, were the last words he uttered, except those of encour-
ag-ement which he shouted to his men in the midst of the
fierce conflict. Mr. Trumbull concluded with a most elo-
quent tribute to the extraordinary beauty of the moral and
religious traits of this excellent soldier and splendid man.
" A few words of consolation and prayer from Rev. Dr.
Hawes, and the services closed with the magnificent funeral
anthem, ' Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.'
" The body was borne by the intimate friends and college
classmates of the dead, from the church, through an open
line formed by members of the City Guard in citizens' dress;
and, under the bright October sky, one of the noblest, truest
men that ever lived a pure, manly, holy life, or ever died a
generous sacrifice to a cause which such deaths sanctify, was
laid away, together with all that was dear to ' friends and
TRIBUTES. 321
sacred home,' except the blessed memory of the grandeur of
his goodness."
The wide-spread sorrow which the death of Major Camp
occasioned, in the army and home cii'cles of his admiring
comrades or attached friends, found expression in many a
warm and eloquent tribute to his acknowledged ability and
worth.
Said Colonel Otis, in reporting the action in which he
fell, —
" The memory of Major Henry W. Camp is deserving of
more than a passing notice. The service has never suffered
a heavier loss in an officer of his grade. Brave and cool
in every emergency, of spotless character and refined intel-
lectual culture, he was one of the brightest ornaments of
the volunteer service, — a soldier ' without fear and without
reproach.' "
Brigadier-General Hawley wrote of him to a friend : —
" He is deeply mourned by all who knew him, — a gentle-
man, a soldier, and a Christian. He was, indeed, a young
man of rare excellence and promise."
The " Hartford Daily Post^^ said, in its announcement
of his death, —
" Thus has perished one of the noblest young men whom
this city has ever mourned. He possessed some rare charac-
teristics : prominent among them was a Christian manliness
21
322 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
that impressed itself palpably upon every one with "whom he
came in contact. He had a robust, vii^orous moral strenjith,
and a keen conscientiousness, ever vigilant ao;ainst even the
shadow of wrong. His entrance into the army was the
result of a deliberate conviction of the right and justice of
the cause to which he consecrated himself. He did not wish
to pass through this epoch of grand events without partici-
pating in them ; and, governed by the same motives through-
out, he patiently, sincerely, and bravely performed his every
duty. And the iron discipline of the war wrought in him a
still bolder manhood and a more marked Christian character.
His jEilial reverence, his social kindliness, his firmly outlined
integrity, were traits for which he was loved, and by which
he will long be remembered. A victim to the accursed am-
bition of the slave-power, a noble sacrifice to the country
which he loved, subjected, when powerless, to the insults of
the barbarous enemy, he died — undoubtedly, as he lived —
a true Christian gentleman, joining the goodly company of
our young and brave and beautiful who have gone down to
death with the war-cry of the Union on their lips."
And thus the editor of the ''Evening Press " described
him : —
" He was an unusually fine and accurate scholar, with a
free, open mind and large capacity. From his solid acquire-
ments, his industry, his versatility and energy, his happy
facility as a writer and impromptu speaker, — his friends
were justified in expecting great things from his maturity.
More than almost any one we knew, his character was
A LAW STUDENT. 323
one of mingled strength and sweetness. He was thoroughly-
manly and noble, with the clearest conscience, and the
highest sense of duty ; and, in disposition and manners, most
lovely and winning. To natural graces of no ordinary sort,
refinement and amiability, he added the piety of a devout
Christian. A strong, cultivated intellect, a large, warm
heart, a gracious, attractive manner, — what he might have
been to the world we shall never know. We know he was
brave and beautiful in death ; and we believe that, giving
his life for the noblest cause in history, he already knows
that the sacrifice was not in vain."
The following sketches show how Henry Camp was
viewed as a law^student and as a soldier by his legal
instructor and by his brigade-commander.
" Hartford, Dec. 14, 1864.
"Eev. H. C. Trumbull.
"My dear Sir, — You desire me to give you some account
of our lamented friend. Major Camp, as a student of law
with me. He studied with me from the spring of 1861 tiU
the following winter, when he left for the war. During this
time, he frequently came to my house in the evening to
recite, as it was more convenient to me to hear him there.
There is little that I can say of him in this relation beyond
the fact, that he exhibited a remarkable facility in the
acquisition of the science. Of the many students whom I
have had in my office, I never had one who seemed to com-
prehend legal principles so readily. I certainly found
324 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
difficulties myself in my early study of the law whlcli he
did not encounter. He seemed to understand at once, not
merely the refined distinctions of the law, but the relations
of one principle to another ; and, so far as he went, to take
in the science in all its proportions. He thus manifested,
not merely a highly discriminating mind, but a generalizing
and philosophical one. I was so much struck with this, in
the more leisurely recitations of the evening, when I often
extended the instruction beyond the mere lesson into the
adjacent and related fields of the science, that I repeatedly
spoke to my family about it after he had left. I am sure
that, if he had lived, he would have made a very superior
lawyer. His mind was calm, clear, and self-poised, and
his judgment sound. He had, I think, in a high degree, the
judicial faculty ; and would have ultimately made an able
judge.
" His faculties, naturally superior, had evidently been im-
proved by thorough education. He seemed to me to have
felt, while in college and earher, the value of education ;
and to have improved his opportunities well. He thus came
to the study of his profession with a mind remarkably dis-
ciplined, as well as with a rare literary culture. His read-
ing had also been systematic and well-chosen, so that his
mind was well furnished, both with thoughts on the most
important subjects, and with information.
" When the war broke out, his whole soul became enlisted
in the cause of the country ; and he could not bear to fail
in his full duty and his full measure of sacrifice in her behalf.
Still he had no taste for military life. He had been brought
A LAW STUDENT. 325
up to look upon war as one of the great curses of the
world ; and military ambition and displays had always had
with him an unpleasant association with the wickedness of
war. He had no misgivings, however, as to the righteous-
ness of the war which had been forced upon us ; and pre-
pared himself at once for what might be found to be his
duty, by joining the City Guard — a finely organized home-
company — for the purpose of learning military drill.
There was probably nothing that made him hesitate so much,
as to joining the army, as the distress that he knew it
would give to his mother, who idolized him, and who had
lono- held, as well as Instilled into him, a horror of all war,
as essentially unchristian. As the call of duty grew more
and more emphatic and unequivocal to him, the voice of
home, coming to him no less tenderly, and falling on no less
loving ears, yet lost some of its potency ; but it was not
till he had obtained the full yet agonized assent of his
mother, that he left his home for the field.
" This completes the particular duty which you had assigned
to me, of giving a sketch of him as a law-student. I can
not help, however, expressing to you my admiration of him
in other respects than his rare intellectual powers. Pie was,
physically and morally, as nearly perfect as any young man
I ever saw. Indeed, as a splendid specimen of a physical,
intellectual, and Christian man, I do not know whom I could
place by the side of him. While earnest and devoted as a
Christian, and of a sensitive purity that would have adorned
a maiden, he had yet nothing of religious assumption or
obtrusive meekness in his manner. He was one of those
326 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
muscular Christians who could swing an almost irresistible
arm, and a defiant one, if necessary, as well as utter the
gentlest words of love. The' very caviller at religion could
not but respect and admire him.
" I have never seen one more full of life and strength, and
ready to do battle with hearty vigor for truth and right;
never one with whom it seemed more incongruous to asso-
ciate the idea of early and sudden death. Few deaths ever
extinguished more of life than went out when he died. It is
almost impossible for me to satisfy myself that there is not
some illusion about it; and that he is not, after all, still
living. The exuberance of his vital energy seems to me
to have been an overmatch for any ordinary power of
death.
" I last saw him as he was hurrying to the cars, the last
time he left home, to join his regiment at the front. He had
been many months in prison at the South, and had just been
paroled and had reached his home. A few days after his
return he heard, unofficially, that he had been exchanged,
and could return to active service. He had a furlough for
twenty days, but a small part of which had passed. Without
waiting to write, he left his home to hurry on, that he might
not lose a day in getting to his regiment. I happened to be
riding with my family through the street on which his father
lived ; and, as we approached the house, Henry came out on
his way to the cars. On seeing us, he came up to the car-
riage to bid us good-by. We exchanged a few words, and
shook hands with him, and said ' God bless you ! ' and he
hurried on. I never saw him again. As he left us, we all
spoke of the remarkable beauty and grandeur that seemed
A SOLDIER. 327
to rest upon him. His face was fluslied and glowing, and
his eye dilated; his form almost majestic in its size and
elegant proportions; and the whole man bore the impress
of the nobleness of purity and patriotism and self-sacrifice.
It was a grand view for the last one I was to have of him.
It seems to me now to be less like an earthly and mere
human vision, than like that glorified presence which he
already bears, and which I hope, some day, to see in the
heavenly world.
"Very truly yours,
"John Hooker."
"Headquarters 3d Brigade 1st Division 24th Army Corps,
Before Kicbmond, Va., March 20, 1865.
"Friend Trumbull, —
" You desire me to speak of your friend as I saw him and
knew him. I can not say that I knew him ; but I can speak
of him as I saw him.
"It was at Drury's Bluff, May 16, that I first saw Major
Camp, under very interesting and somewhat exciting cir-
cumstances. The Army of the James was retiring before
the victorious enemy. There was a momentary lull in the
conflict; and the gallant 10th, having repulsed the onset of
the enemy on its front, was in the act of taking up a new
position, when I saw two horsemen abreast, coming through
the slashing, straight to the front, — yourself and Major
(then Adjutant) Camp. I had heard of Adjutant Camp as
' the chaplain's friend,' and that he was expected. At a
glance, I saw that the long-imprisoned adjutant had returned.
How will this young man accept this state of things?
328 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
tliousrlit I. How will he be received? The dead of his
regiment were lying in the road, — the wounded being
carried past him to the rear. He took no note of the dead
or of the wounded ; none of the gallant boys of his regiment.
His eyes were on the field, — right, left, and front, taking in
the scene ; for the battle was not over. His face was pale,
his lips compressed, and his every feature seemed like iron.
One of the soldiers of the 10th exclaimed, 'There is the
adjutant ! — Adjutant Camp ! ' Then the brave boys gave
at once a shout of recognition, throwing up their caps, and
cheering. Instantly his features relaxed ; his face filled with
hot blood ; and the iron man the moment before appeared
as modest as a girl ; and when he took off his hat, sat erect
in his saddle, while the 10th moved past as it were in review,
' the young man ' dwarfed everybody present.
" I was impressed by Major Camp's bearing on that occa-
sion. I felt that he was a power, an embodiment of will,
force, genius; and that opportunity alone was wanting in him
for the display of great qualities. He gave such assurance
of a true soldier, my first impulse was to wish for an occasion
for him, — one equal to the man. They were knightly
qualities that showed forth themselves in him.
" Subsequent acquaintance with Major Camp never
effaced, never diminished, the first impressions of him. He
ever seemed to me the fittest man for the choicest occasion,
— hence I was chary of exposing him, felt he was not one
to be killed in a skirmish. The day he fell, this feeling was
strono- in mc. ' I have no officer,' said Colonel Otis, ' to send
with the skirmishers, unless I send Major Camp.' I felt
averse to sending him against a thicket where any skulking
A SOLDIER. 329
rebel might take away his life. Later in the day, I wanted
a field-officer to take charge of the skirmish-line of the
brigade-detachments of the several rejnments, which were
doing a good deal of fighting, but disliked to expose the
major, and delayed sending for him on that account. But,
.when the order came to send the lOtli to report to Colonel
Pond, I immediately sent for the major, but he was away.
I had placed the 10th in reserve that day, its ranks were so
thinned, wishing to spare its gallant officers and men ; and
that very circumstance devoted it to the bloody service
which I wished to spare it. It was the will of Heaven.
" After the affair of Drury's Bluff, I never saw Major
Camp excited, — never saw him except in repose. In all
our subsequent engagements with the enemy, he was the
same quiet, composed soldier he was in camp.
"Oct. 7, he moved along the battle-line of the 10th,
among the file-closers, the only commissioned officer Colonel
Otis had, with perfect coolness; and, when the fight was
hottest, as one almost without occupation. He seemed a
little moved ; and I never shall forget the light of victory in
his eye, as the boys of the 10th gave their shouts for victory.
He thought nothing would express his sentiments so well,
just at that time, as ' Hail Columbia,' from the band.
" At Petersburg he was detailed by General Terry as
Acting Assistant Adjutant-General of the brigade. The
regiment had three field-officers, and he could be spared.
He received the order as the brigade was in line, ready to
move across the James, on the eve of the battle of New
Market Hights. He came to me with a most troubled ex-
pression of countenance. ' Colonel,' said he, * can not this
330 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER.
be clianged ? I have been absent from my regiment so
much : I have just been promoted, and we are now going
into action. It will not do for me to be away from my
resfiment.'
" He could not rest until he saw the general, and re-
ceived permission to accompany his regiment.
"Major Camp's modesty, his purity and simplicity of
character, seemed not to belong to one of his years, but
rather to the innocence of childhood. Entirely unconscious
of the powers he possessed, he would hardly seek responsi-
bility; yet he was not the man to turn from the path of
duty to avoid it. The only question in his mind would be,
' What is duty ? ' But, with a great responsibility thrown
upon him, he would have been an inspired man, and equal
to any emergency. For my part, I believe him to have been
as good a man — as good in head and heart — as was George
Washington in his youth, or David when he kept his father's
sheep or slew Goliah.
" However contrary to our desires the manner of his
death, we must believe that it was best, and that some great
good will come of it. May it not be realized in the pious
labors of your hands in giving to the young men of our
country, in his Life, the example of such a character ?
" I have the honor to be, chaplain,
" With the highest regards,
" Your most obedient servant,
"H. M. Plaisted,
" Col. 11th Me. and Brevet Bi-ig.-Gen. Comd'g Brigade.
"Rev. H. C. Trumbull,
" Chaplain 10th Conn. Vols."
A CHRISTIAN. 331
Thus closes the record of a brief and beautiful life.
"All of us who were about him," said a college friend,
"perceived that Henry Camp was a Christian who fol-
lowed Christ. All things that were true, honest, just,
pure, lovely, of good report, shone in his walks and con-
versation among us. Not more pleasing was his manly
beauty to the eye than was his piety to the hearts of such
as communed with him." "True always," adds a class-
mate, "and faithful unto death, the sudden stroke that
quenched all our bright hopes for his future opened to
him a new life of nobler aims and higher services. Such
a death closes such a life with all fitness. The suddenness
of heroic death rivals the blessedness of translation. No
waste of energies, no sad decay, but a Christian soul rising
to heaven while the heart is still intense with the fire of
purified passion, and the body girt for battle."
/
..v-'
%
■■«• ^
. v^'J'
i'',' "!.•«.
' I
.A
â– -<
.'*'•!•;
'/>^<-/^
*â– .â– ' V*"
*<''-
â– "â– ?
-X„'-'
/» ... ;^'r^. *■•■.■< " '' '^V- ^ , ,~ -.■*,"■, -J- i'f't?'' "■'-•AT
»f •
1- .â– r]>'-\-« ■•^fe^;-j.'»iJk>^'- '.'â–
\
