The Campaign of the Forty-fifth Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteer Militia / "The Cadet Regiment"

by Charles Eustis Hubbard

The guard was divided into three reliefs; the first being on duty from nine to one, both morning and night; the second from one to five, and the third from five to nine. The first relief was through with its labor at one o'clock A. M., while the third had the whole night from nine to five to sleep, and the day to loaf, so the choice between these two was about equally divided, but the second relief, being a sort of nondescript, was scouted by all.

There were two detached stations, both under command of a corporal, which were very much liked by the men. The first was at the railroad bridge, which, as the main entrance to the city, for all on foot or horseback, was an important point. More than one poor corporal lost his stripes when at this post, for some slight dereliction of duty. There were sentry-boxes on the bridge for stormy weather, and a cosy little guard-room with a nice bed of shavings, much more comfortable than the hard boards in the other guard-rooms. No one was allowed to pass over the bridge in either direction without a permit, and special instructions were issued against allowing any vehicle to cross without an order from department headquarters.

The other station was at the Pollock Street Jail,—jail in name, but nothing but a large wooden dwelling-house. It was occupied by rebel prisoners, disloyal citizens, and occasionally by a United States officer under arrest. The jailer was a great burly corporal of the 23d Massachusetts, who was afterwards promoted to a lieutenancy in the North Carolina native regiment. The guns of the sentries here were always loaded, and the orders were to shoot on the slightest attempt to escape,—a very necessary precaution, where but two men kept guard over a house having at times as many as sixty prisoners. Their fare was the same as that furnished to our men, and often better. The prisoners brought in were for the most part a wretched-looking set of men; dirty to filthiness, ragged, ignorant and stupid, many of them the clay-eaters of North Carolina. There was a rebel surgeon confined there for a long time, an intelligent, educated man from New Orleans, with whom we had many a talk on the topics of the day, upon which he kept himself well informed.

There was a great choice in the sentry-stations over the city, and the men very quickly became acquainted with their various excellences and respective merits. Some were under cover, others were not needed at night; at this one a breakfast was furnished by a kind neighbor, at another, the guard was sure of some dinner, while some were wholly undesirable, being on some bleak, unprotected corner, exposed to wind and rain.

Guard duty had sufficient variety to relieve it from monotony, and while many a ludicrous scene happened, occasionally, occurrences not wholly devoid of danger, served to keep us alive. Some one would report a disturbance, and ask for a guard to restore peace; whereupon volunteers would be called for, and two or three start off, ready for anything that might turn up. Some drunken soldier has, perhaps, made himself at home in a house, to the obvious discomfort of the inmates, and refuses to be dislodged; but the ugly look of the bayonet soon brings him to terms, and he is marched off to the guard-house, and allowed an opportunity to consider his evil ways, in solitary confinement. Occasionally, one with enough liquor to make him ugly, refuses to show his pass, and even attempts to seize the gun of the guard, when most unexpectedly, he receives the butt of the musket in his face, and, beginning to realize that "discretion is the better part of valor," submits, and is led off, a soberer and wiser man.

When some of the old New York and Pennsylvania regiments were encamped near the town, their men were very apt to make trouble during their visits to Newbern, and it often ended in their passing the night at the guard-house. One afternoon, two six-foot Irishmen came over the bridge, and on entering the town, refused to show their passes. Both had guns and bayonets, and threatened to kill any one who should attempt to arrest them. It was not until aid arrived from the guard-house, and they had been stretched out with the butt of a pistol, that they quieted down and consented to go and be locked up. Once we were stopped in the street by a native, and asked to come and arrest a drunken fellow, who had threatened to stab his wife, the niece of my informant. Although unaccustomed to interfere in family troubles, such a summons could not be neglected. The man was a citizen of Newbern, and on our arrival was asleep on a sofa, while the poor wife was weeping in the cook-house. Arousing him, we made known our errand; and the accusations and tears of the wife, together with the maudlin stupidity of the man, were pitiful to witness. It is to be hoped that three day's solitary confinement, on bread and water, brought him to a realizing sense of his conjugal duties.

One day, a person just arrived from Fortress Monroe, made complaint at the provost marshal's, of the theft of some of his baggage by one of the hands employed on the steamer. A guard was immediately sent to the steamer to arrest the criminal, and a portion of the stolen goods was found among the effects of one of the firemen, but the man himself was missing. Feeling convinced however, that the fellow was concealed somewhere on the vessel, they commenced a search, high and low, for the guilty one, and just as they were about to give up in despair, one of the guard chanced to look under one of the boilers, and there discovered the culprit, squeezed in almost out of sight. On being requested to come forth, he refused flatly, and being out of reach he could not be dragged out. A loaded pistol was produced, and aimed at his head, when some one suggested the hose, and a stream of dirty water was quickly brought to bear on the hapless victim. In vain did he squirm and writhe; he had to succumb, and finally crawled out from his hiding-place more dead than alive, and was carried in triumph to the guard-house to answer for his sins.

We were by no means idle on the days off guard. Four times a week, when the weather permitted,—and the days were rare when it did not permit,—we were indulged in the delights of brigade drill. Coming off guard at ten o'clock, the order would sound through the yard, immediately after dinner, which was earlier on those days, "Fall in for brigade drill, blouses and caps!" and at noon we formed regimental line on Broad street, and from there marched a long two miles over the railroad bridge, to the plain near our old barracks on the Trent. Here we were joined by the 17th, 43d and 51st Mass., and manœuvred by Colonel Amory for two or three hours. "Echelon by battalion at forty paces," "form line of battle on third battalion, right in front," etc., became as familiar as household words, and all of us felt competent to handle a brigade. Still it was always a happy moment when we saw our commander sheathe his long sabre, and no order was obeyed with such celerity and precision, as the one which invariably followed this action, "march off your battalions." The men were always in the best of spirits on the march back to town, and many a song and joke beguiled the weary way.

Twice a week, also, we had battalion drill, sometimes in the streets, and occasionally in one of the fields on the outskirts of the town. As we were very apt to have spectators during our street drills, the colonel was especially vexed at any blunders committed by the officers, and woe betide the unfortunate one who incurred his censure on those days, for he spoke his mind on the spot, to the great delight of the file, and the discomfiture of the rank.