CAPTAIN B. F. DEXTER
Captain Dexter had raised Company L of the Fiftieth Volunteer Engineer Corps early in the war, and still commanded that company at Petersburg front, and during many battles. After the close of the war, he became a successful physician, and in addition to his practice in New York City he held for many years the position of Police Surgeon.
As some patients needed fresh milk, I started out boldly one afternoon, with an orderly carrying an empty pail and a basket of extracts and small supplies. We rode through the woods beyond our lines to a secesh house quite near. On the piazza were a pretty young girl and a young Confederate officer in full grey uniform. With them were two or three ladies. At first they were suspicious lest it was a ruse on our part to capture the young “reb,” but a pleasant talk followed, and they were glad to exchange some quarts of milk for the small luxuries that they had been so long unable to secure, and to arrange an exchange of milk for such articles in the future.
We gave the sick rebel prisoners the same attention as our own boys. One asked why we were so kind to them, and I replied—“Why, don’t you know we’re feeding you up to make you well and then send you back so we can fight you over again.” This greatly amused them.
A rumor spread through the camp that the rebel gunboats were coming down the James to capture the hospital. Much excitement followed as to what we women would do; should we try to escape or should we remain with the sick? We promptly decided to remain with our boys; but happily the gunboats did not come.
My only recreation was an occasional horseback ride, accompanied by a mounted orderly. As there was only one lady’s saddle in camp, it was difficult to secure it. Two or three high cavalry saddles were altered so that women could ride, uncomfortably, on them. I once rode a horse from General Russell’s headquarters at the Point, and found the animal quite unmanageable. He at once started for a run and it was impossible to check or hold him. I barely managed to hold on, winding the reins about my hands, and bracing myself in the too small saddle. We passed a hotel on the road where many officers were sitting, then General Grant’s tent, and then dashed down the road over a pile of logs, nearly upsetting some soldiers at work there. With a sudden stop that nearly sent me over the horse’s head the animal stood quietly in front of General Russell’s open office window, where the General and his staff were consulting. They sprang up at the clatter and, gasping for breath, I said, “General, I didn’t come to see you because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t help it.” And there was a general laugh. The check rein had been forgotten.
Another horse took me back very quietly, but for many days the strained muscles stood out like those of an athlete, and there was pain enough through my entire body to make me sympathize with a chronic “rheumatic.”
We sometimes rode to U. S. Headquarters to see the drill and inspection of General Russell’s colored brigade. General Grant often stood beside his magnificent black horse at these inspections, and was very proud of the perfect drill of the negro infantry, whom he complimented, to their great happiness. These were the first colored troops I had seen.
According to General Butler’s autobiography “The first regiment of colored soldiers was mustered in at New Orleans on August 22d, 1862. Better soldiers never shouldered a musket. They learned to handle arms and to march more readily than white men.”
How little thought and justice has been given to the fact that, when enlistments began, and as the demand for Confederate troops became more imperative, even old men and boys were drafted into the Southern army,—for light duty perhaps. In some cases there was not a white man within many miles, and to the care and honor of these negroes, plantations of hundreds of acres were left that they might continue to raise food and supplies for their army. Despite the fact that thousands of these negroes had practically no restraint to fear, they cheerfully labored against a cause that even at that early day they felt was for their emancipation, and yet I never heard of an uprising that could not have been checked by helpless women. There was not a case of robbery, destruction of property or rapine among the faithful workers who became the protectors of Southern women and children.