Only those who have participated in like occasions can imagine the scene that presented itself on board the Commodore. One would think this body of over nine hundred men were bound on a picnic rather than a duty which involved life or death. No one could foretell what the future had in store for him, whether a victim to disease, maimed or diseased for life, death upon the field, temporary sufferings from curable wounds, or a return home in as good health and spirits as when he left. They took the risk. They should have credit for the courage to do so.
A trip through the cars while en route from Readville Camp showed the men to be in rather a sober state of mind. Nothing gloomy about them, but very thoughtful. The car containing the field, staff and line officers, had the appearance of a silent prayer meeting. The colonel was quite meditative. Parting with wife and children was no easy matter to a man of his noble disposition. Many men had been married only a few weeks or months, and to them the enforced separation was keenly felt. As the day was rainy a very limited number of friends were present in camp to say good-by, and affecting parting incidents were not so many as they otherwise would have been. All homesick feelings passed away when the regiment reached Groton, and each man was himself again.
The quartermaster and commissary stores, ammunition and horses were in cars on the fore part of the train, in charge of detailed men. The jolliest crowd upon the train was in the ammunition car, composed of Sam Hersey, the colonel’s clerk, Sergeant Courtney, Sergeant-Major Bosson, and Sergeant Wentworth.
With singing, dancing, card playing, frolicking, and cutting up pranks of various sorts, time passed rapidly. There were parties who did not sleep at all that night. Those who have ever been on excursions such as used to be indulged in by the old militia organizations, can form some idea of the manner in which the night was passed.
Owing to the late hour of leaving Groton the Commodore did not arrive at New York until noon of Saturday. Rations had been issued, to be carried in haversacks, sufficient to last three meals to each man; but with that carelessness so habitual to a raw soldier the rations lasted a majority of them for one meal; the consequence was, that on arrival at New York, the men were tired, very hungry, and very cross. About dusk orders were received to proceed to the Union Race Course at East New York, and report to Colonel Chickering, Forty-First Massachusetts Volunteers, commanding the post. The steamer Commodore was then lying at Williamsburg. The baggage wanted immediately was packed and sent forward; the troops filed out of the steamer, forming regimental line in South Second Street. The citizens (noble hearted people) furnished the entire regiment with hot coffee, crackers, fresh bread, cheese and cold meats. Some ladies went so far as to furnish hot pies, baking and dealing them out while the men were halted, refreshing themselves in their neighborhood. By eight o’clock the entire body was amply refreshed and ready to commence the ten-mile march which was before them. All through the City of Williamsburg the regiment was greeted with cheers, wavings of handkerchiefs, expressions of good-will, and all those demonstrations which proved a people’s interest in the cause for which the men were enlisted. While this excitement continued the column was steady enough, but after the populous part of the city was passed and the muddy road was reached, with all quiet outside of the column, straggling commenced. The weight of knapsack, gun and ammunition pouch began to be felt; feet became sore; silence reigned in the ranks, and nought could be heard save the rattling of the drums at the head of the column, the solid tramp, splash, tramp, splash, or words of command from officers.
The night was dark as black pitch, the road rapidly became worse as the regiment advanced, the weather became very cold, with strong, chilly, wintry blasts, so that by the time Hiram Woodruff’s hotel and stables was reached the men were not in the best of spirits to receive the intelligence imparted to them. It was here Colonel Chickering had his headquarters. When Colonel Burrell reported himself and command for instructions, he was ordered to the race-course to feed the men, and procure the best quarters possible. There were some four thousand men already in camp and bivouac. No ground had been allotted the regiment, and no tents were to be had, so that soon after reaching the race-course the regiment countermarched back to Woodruff’s stables, and the men were ordered to find shelter for the night in the horse-stalls, hen-houses, etc., to the best of their ability. The One Hundred and Sixty First New York Infantry had arrived but a short time previous, and were placed in a similar position. How the various companies of the regiment passed the night would be an interesting history by itself, suffice it to record every man survived, and in the morning, on forming regimental line, none seemed the worse for a little hard experience so early in his military career. On arrival at New York the colonel, quartermaster, and adjutant, reported to General Banks. Requisition was made at once on Post-Quartermaster Colonel Van Vliet for camp equipage. Adjutant Davis was left to get this camp equipage en route for the camp-ground, and had a tough time to obtain drays and induce the drivers to start for East New York. The late hour when all was ready made it necessary to persistently stick to the work, or else it would not have been accomplished. This camp equipage arrived during the night, ready for use the next morning.
Camp was pitched on Sunday, a bitter cold day, and from this time until the day it was vacated the regular routine of camp life was done. At first the cold weather occasioned much distress, but moderating in a few days comparative comfort was experienced. Most of the men, with “Yankee” ingenuity, built underground ovens in their tents with a passage to the outside for escape of smoke. Towards night these ovens were filled with wood and a fire started, which generally would last all night, enabling occupants, with the aid of straw bedding, to keep tolerably warm. Every night huge bonfires were made at the head of each company street, and around them the men would cluster and discuss their treatment, talk of those at home, crack jokes, sing songs, tell stories (some of them good, others not good), while few of a philosophical turn of mind indulged in speculations as to the future. The poor fellows on sentry duty had a hard time; the guard reliefs would gather about a bonfire in front of the guard tents roasting the side of their bodies nearest the fire while the other side was freezing, then reverse this position and thaw out one side while the other froze again. During the eleven days in camp here a large amount of wood was consumed, in order to keep warm. Many trees in rear of the camp were cut down and burned, besides the amount of wood allowed by Government and drawn through the quartermaster, for the nights would be cold even when the days were comfortable.
There were two evils under which the troops suffered while at this post: rations, and officers on leave of absence. Instead of allowing rations to be drawn in kind, a post-kitchen had been established; somebody having contracted with some United States official to furnish cooked rations at so much a ration. This somebody must have realized a very large amount of greenbacks by the operation. Frequently the food was not fit for dogs to eat. Not once could the coffee be drank without creating a nausea. This necessary article would be drawn by the company cooks from the post-kitchen in pails, and then thrown away, alleging, as a reason for doing so, that so much was stopped from delivery to the rest of the troops in camp. At times the meat served out was eatable, but often better fitted to be used as manure than to sustain life in a human being. The bread was good, and on this, with clear, cold water, most of the men subsisted. Some companies did manage to obtain a little good coffee and cheese, from New York City, on their private account. To such a pitch had the feelings of men been wrought by this one item of bad rations, when the post commissary building caught fire one day, not a soldier would lend a helping hand to quench the flames until it was announced that the post hospital was over the cook-house. They then worked with a will to stop the fire. In the month of December, a few weeks after the regiment had left, this same cook-house caught fire again, and was burnt to the ground. It is supposed to have been designedly set on fire by soldiers then in camp. After this was done Government rations were issued according to army regulations. When the Forty-Second got orders to leave camp, Colonel Burrell had a wordy fight with the contractor who furnished rations, as he refused to sign a receipt for full rations, telling him the whole scheme was a fraud. Time was precious, and a compromise was arrived at by Burrell consenting to sign a receipt for one-third the number of rations claimed to have been issued.
All furloughs or leaves of absence had to be granted by Colonel Chickering. Battalion commanders had no right to grant them. Field officers were obliged to be absent more or less on business. Line officers of the regiment were continually away on furlough, to visit New York City, often without leave, taking the liberty without applying for it in the regular way. At this time the discipline of the enlisted men was far ahead of that shown by their officers. Orders were frequently received from post headquarters when no commissioned officer could be found in camp to take them. The regular drills would, in most cases, have to be conducted by non-commissioned officers, in the absence of those in commission. Is it to be wondered at, with such a state of things existing among the officers, that the men should adopt the same policy? If a furlough was not granted run the guard and be absent on “French leave,” as it was termed. There were some forty cases, on an average, each day, of men absent without leave.
True to his duty and profession, Surgeon Cummings had the hospital tent put up and placed in order immediately after the camp-ground was selected. Those who were under his treatment can testify to his care of them, and the amount of work he did to keep the sick in good spirits. He labored under extraordinary difficulties at this particular time, with several serious cases on his hands. Four of them had to be left in hospital when the regiment proceeded to embark on transports, viz., Private Abijah S. Tainter, Company E, Private Charles S. Knight, Company F, Private Paschal E. Burnham, Company G, and Private George A. Cushing, Company A.