Out of the Briars / An Autobiography and Sketch of the Twenty-ninth Regiment Connecticut Volunteers

by A. H. Newton

At this time I was not a member of the church. But my father had taught me to pray. And as I have frequently related, I often prayed in battle when I thought that my time had come. I had a sense of the guilt of sin and of the need of confession of my sins. So I had also, the sense of peace which comes from a man’s justification through Jesus Christ. My case I am sure is but an illustration of the cases of many men and women who have not connected themselves with the church. They are real Christians as I was, having all the ordinary experience of the Christian, but not having made any outward profession. We are therefore unable to know who are the children of God, for certainly there are believers outside of the church. Our judgment therefore must always be a charitable one. Yet I do not want the impression to be made that I, in any sense, approve of believers remaining outside of the church. An outward profession of faith in our Blessed Lord, Jesus Christ, is an open badge of our religion which men can see. We should not hide our light under a bushel, but put it on a candle stick that all about us may see what we are by what we live. When we rounded the Florida reefs, the boys’ hearts were gladdened, because they had seen the land once again and their thought was that they were nearing the end of the voyage. We had some sickness on board, such diseases as yellow jaundice, malaria, chills and fever. We were huddled together like a lot of wild ducks and the sanitary conditions were against our health. When about seven days on our trip, our drinking water failed us. We were on the water, yet we had no water to drink; but we did the best we could under the circumstances.

We were glad when we came into the harbor at Mobile, Ala. Here we found many transports lying in the harbor. Fort Gaines was to our right and Fort Morgan to our left. The boys were all delighted, because they were wild to get to land again, and especially to get a drink of good water. How dependent we are on mother earth after all for our lives. After passing the forts a short distance the anchor was dropped. The surroundings were grand. There were gunboats lying in the stream, with their artillery of death-dealing cannon looking forth from the decks and thoroughly manned with the smaller-implements of naval warfare. But our hopes were not fulfilled, for a command came that we were to sail immediately to New Orleans. The men were bitter in their disappointment, but such is the experience of war. Men are not free, they are the parts of the gigantic machine of death, so many cogs in the wheels, or so many wheels in the machine, or so many parts of the machine. They soon became reconciled however. We had plenty of hard tack and salt horse left us, and with this we could not starve to the death. Our voyage was an uneventful one, save for the good weather and fine ocean. We were soon in the channel for New Orleans. When we reached the forts Jackson and Phillips, a signal stopped us for inspection. We were told that we could not go to New Orleans, that none of the men or officers could go any further without an order from General Grant. The officers telegraphed to Washington to General Grant. We were in rather a dilapidated condition, about out of coal and in need of better fuel for the stomach, with the men completely worn out with the voyage.

We were however permitted to go on land at Fort Jackson. This was a magnificent fort with its seventy guns overlooking the water inlet. There were many alligators in this place and we amused ourselves by killing them, which of course was a greatly desired thing. I had plenty of hard tack and this seemed to attract the reptiles. I remember one fellow over seven feet long I killed.

At this place the Colored troops had been shamefully and barbarously treated. As I thought of the outrages which they had suffered only about one month before our arrival, I felt that if I could, I would like a little revenge on their account. But there was no opportunity for such outlet of wicked feeling. At last we received an order from General Grant to take the transport to New Orleans, to get a supply of coal and oil, and to have the transport repaired. But to our dismay, only the officers were permitted to go. We were left at Fort Phillips.

I managed however, to get to New Orleans, in that I had charge of the commissary department. We were already beginning to forget the hardships of the battlefield. Our minds were turning to the ordinary life which we live, and looking forward to the pleasures connected with home and with business. And I assure you, my dear readers, that it was a happy release. We had the constant joy in our hearts that our beloved people had their freedom, bought with the blood of those who now slept the last sleep on many battlefields; but we did not believe that the price paid for this boon of liberty was too dear. The price of human liberty can never be estimated. This is especially true of those who knew what slavery meant. And the Colored Race has an endless debt to pay their White friends who bought their liberty with their own blood. While it is true that the White people brought our forefathers here and sold them into slavery, which of course they had no right to do, this does not diminish the price which this same race had to pay in order to buy us out of the slavery into which they had sold us. And it does not in the least diminish the debt of gratitude which we shall owe them as long as time exists.

I had a short but very pleasant stay in New Orleans. On Sunday we went to the A. M. E. Church, of which the Rev. William A. Dove was pastor. This was the St. James A. M. E. Church. We were most cordially received by the pastor and members. They were kind enough to take care of us while in the city. We learned from the members that while we were on the battlefield, they were at home fasting and praying that our grand cause might be victorious. “Fight and pray” is sure to win the day for any just cause. The services were very pleasing and profitable. The pastor preached in the morning and our orderly I. J. Hill, at night. I and others, were much lifted up and realized anew what it was to draw water from the wells of salvation. We spent much of our time in seeing the sights of the unique city of the South. Our friends were more than kind to us during our stay. We lacked nothing for good beds and good food and good society; and we were in good shape to appreciate these things, because of the privations, losses, suffering, and fears through which we had passed.

Our transport having been repaired and furnished with needed coal and oil and food, we were soon on our way back to the fort. We had not gone far on our course until there was an alarm of fire. This created quite a panic, but the blaze was soon put out and we were enjoying our trip down the “Father of Waters.”

We arrived at Fort Phillips with more soldiers for the Twenty-ninth Regiment, they having been brought in from other quarters.

We were soon off for Texas. With the transport loaded with human freight, we started for Brazos De Santiago, Texas. We found the gulf quite rough on our entering it. This produced sea sickness with a great many. I remember one fellow who was very sea sick. I was unable to do anything with him. He was continually calling out “New York, New York.” “There goes my liver,” he cried, having spit up some blood. Our great trouble on this voyage was the lack of water. They had a condenser on board which reduced the amount of salt a few degrees, but we could easily taste the saline property of the water. We found Brazos a most undesirable place, there were plenty of fleas and mosquitoes and sand burrs. We had our headquarters at this place which was knee deep in water. Our Colored troops were nearly perishing for water. The suffering was most intense. It was heart-rending. I cried out to God to send us some help. We had but little water and that was quite brackish. Our means of condensing the water gave us only about five thousand gallons when we were in need of not less than ten thousand gallons. We paid ten cents a canteen for water and would have been willing to have paid fifty cents, or any price.

After a while we met some Mexicans who had brought water from the Rio Grande and sold it for ten cents a canteen. Colonel Sadrick was very indignant over this hardship. When he saw our scars and realized how much these good soldiers had suffered and the privations through which they had already passed, he saw General Wietzel and requested that the troops should be taken from Brazos. He met with success and we took our line of march for White Ranch on the Rio Grande River about ten miles south of Brazos. The march was one of great trial. We were in mud knee deep and in some places the water was waist deep. When we reached the Ranch, the soldiers were well nigh famished. They made a mad rush for the river and while many of them were on the bank, it gave way, and several of them were drowned. We were all greatly saddened over this misfortune. It seemed enough that men should have given up their lives on the battlefield, this was matter of course; but when men who had stemmed the tide of death which swept the battlefield were drowned, it seemed more than we could stand to see them cut off from their loved ones by a mere accident. But it was the Lord’s way to take some more of them home.