The President went to the state capitol where he made a short address in which he said: “Now you Colored people are free, as free as I am. God has made you free and if those who are your superiors are not able to recognize that you are free, we will have to take the sword and musket and again teach them that you are free. You are as free as I am, having the same rights of liberty, life and the pursuit of happiness.”
While at Richmond, we engaged in many foraging expeditions. We found such things as eggs, chickens, butter, bread, fruit, tobacco. There were bales of tobacco in the streets free for every one who enjoyed the weed. And I must say that many were delighted with their free smokes. There was plenty of Confederate money too, which was often blown about by the wind as so much worthless waste paper. Well it was waste paper. With the passing of the Confederacy, the money value passed away on all such currency.
On April 16th, 1865, we were painfully shocked to hear of the death of President Lincoln, at the hands of an assassin. No one can measure the consternation which struck our hearts. This great and wonderful man who had guided the Ship of State through four years of such perilous waves and winds, that he should thus pass away and in such an infamous manner, was more than we could stand. But it was so. Our faith was almost staggered, that faith which had sustained us in so many battles, was now staggering under a blow which was severer than any battles, the death of our Immortal leader. Thus in four years from the first shot fired on Fort Sumter, four years from the very day of the first shot, the shot was fired from the hand of Booth, that removed one of the greatest men the world ever knew, from the scenes of human action. He was removed too at a time when he was most needed. Yes, he was more needed, than when the nation was in the midst of a bloody conflict. He was now needed to set up the battlements of peace, which is a more difficult work than the forts of warfare.
On the twenty-fourth, we moved from the camp near Petersburg, to Camp Lincoln where we enjoyed our camp life for awhile. We had lost many of our numbers through death on the battlefield and disease in the camp, but losses were now being recruited by volunteers coming to us. I was kept busy filling our regimental papers, ordering and issuing rations. Some of our men had become so rum thirsty that they would offer me ten dollars for a canteen full of whisky. But I was not allowed to sell it, and to give it out only on the orders of the Quartermaster.
We were not here long. We embarked on the Demolay for Norfolk, Va. General Russel and staff came on board to tell us goodbye. I had two barrels of supposed corn beef, the boys called it salt-horse, which I suppose was nearer the truth. I had also a barrel of sugar. These I could not ship, so I left them on the ground, for some poor fellows that could use them. Colonel Wooster came also and saw us off. We left many friends, some of them with tears in their eyes. They had become very dear to us. We had shared together the hardships of camp-life and of the battlefield. Human suffering makes men very near akin. As we glided swiftly down the James River, for a while we could hear their cheers and when sound was out of touch, we could see their salutes of hats and handkerchiefs. We enjoyed the day as soldiers on board the vessel. I was astonished at the behavior of the soldiers. They gave themselves over to all kinds of sports and jestings, which disgusted me most thoroughly. Many were unruly, even threatening the lives of those who favored going to Texas whither we had been ordered for garrison duty. Some of the gang were arrested for their insubordination. My heart was made to shudder at the degrading and shameful life which was manifested on board the ship. Their swearing, drinking, gambling, dancing, etc., was heartsickening. It was indeed a revelation and shows what men will do when not under the eye of authority. Human nature is indeed most sinful, and were it not for the restrictions which are thrown about us, none of us know what might come to pass. We arrived at Norfolk and anchored for the night. With having witnessed the debauchery on board the vessel and at the same time wrought with anxiety for my wife and two babies, my father and mother at home, I confess I was in a most depressed condition of mind and heart. “Be strong and of good courage,” came to me like a flash and I was strong and buoyant in a little while. How grand is the truth of God, when we find it such a rock of refuge in times of trouble; I was thus greatly consoled and went to bed looking up at the shining stars, as if they were so many angels, sent by God, to guard me.
There was quite an excitement on board when it was whispered about that the officers had covenanted together to take the soldiers on board, to Cuba, and sell them as slaves. There was quite an indignation against I. J. Hill, for it was thought that he was in some manner party to this arrangement. The men were suspicious also of Sam Brown, a clerk. I, together with others, had the good fortune to escape any insults or indignities. While at Norfolk, we went to church and saw quite a number of well-to-do Colored people. Rev. J. M. Brown, of the A. M. E. Church, I think was pastor. He treated us very cordially indeed. We were introduced to many of the congregation. This church had a Sunday School of six or seven hundred members. It was an inspiring sight to see them nicely dressed and to hear them sing so sweetly, many beautiful Sunday school songs. But the time had come when we had to leave the many dead of our comrades. We had done all that we could for them in the last sad rites of death and now their bodies were resting under the cold sods of the South, awaiting the Resurrection Day, when we will all meet again and hear our record of the deeds done in the body and the judgment based on these deeds. The memories of war are one of the saddest features thereof. These memories can never be blotted out; for as we grow older they seem to become more vivid.
BETHEL A. M. E. CHURCH
Woodbury, N. J.
Built by Rev. A. H. Newton, D.D.
We took shipping on the transport, Blackstone, for Texas. We were about fifteen days on the waters, the ocean was calm. There were six or seven hundred on board. It was no little job to take care of the hungry stomachs of these men. But we had a most pleasant trip and enjoyed the ocean waves and breezes. The officers spent most of their time in fishing. Once in awhile a fish six or seven feet long would be hauled in. For two days we were out of sight of land and only one small schooner passed us. There was much complaint on board on account of the army food which I was compelled to give them salt-pork or hard tack and bad coffee. They thought that being on board of ship warranted better food, but I told them that I had to give them what I had. And so we fought the battle of the stomach. There were many however who were afflicted with sea-sickness and had no concern for something to eat. We had a burial at sea. The poor soldier was sewed up in a blanket and consigned to a grave in the bottom of the deep. The funeral service was very impressive to many of us, for it was the first burial at sea we had witnessed. I must confess that there was a grandeur about it that inspired one—as the boundless ocean received the body of our comrade, eternity had received his soul. I thought of his loved ones and that in all probability they would never hear of him. Then I wondered if that grand song could not be an interpretation of this burial,
“Rocked in the cradle of the deep,
I lay me down in peace to sleep,
In ocean cave still safe with Thee,
The germ of Immortality.”