A Sketch of the 29th Regiment of Connecticut Colored Troops

by Isaac J. Hill

29th Connecticut Colored Regiment.

The 29th Connecticut Colored Regiment was gotten up by Colonel Pardee, and encampted at Grape Vine Point, New Haven, Connecticut. The recruiting was commenced in August, 1863. The inducements held out to men to join this Regiment were these: they were to receive a bounty of $310 from the State, $75 from the County from which they enlisted, and $300 from the United States. The $310 from the State we received, the other bounties we did not receive.

There were several men who took an active part in recruiting for this Regiment, among them Lieutenant Brown of New York, to whom great credit is due. There were others, both colored and white, who did very much towards filling up the Regiment. Sergeant Archie Howard, Orderly of Company C, recruited more men than any other excepting Lieut. Brown, but I am sorry to say, that after all he did the parties failed to pay him according to promise, and he was ordered to his Regiment without receiving a just compensation for his labors.

The first of January, 1864, the 29th Regiment was filled up. The writer of this narrative was in the last squad of men that enlisted for this Regiment, and out of the forty men I was the only one that was admitted into the 29th, the balance of the recruits being put into the 30th Regiment, that was then recruiting in the same camp. We remained at New Haven until the 8th of March, and nothing of interest happened up to that date, when we received orders from Colonel Pardee's Headquarters, stating that the 29th Regiment was to move to Annapolis, Maryland.

March 8, 1864. We broke camp to leave New Haven for Annapolis, Md. At 10 o'clock the whole Regiment was drawn up on the old parade ground, with their knapsacks, to receive the flag, Col. W.B. Wooster in command. The flag was presented by the Rev. Dr. Mott. On account of the Regiment not receiving the $75 which was promised them at their enlistment, they made no response to the presentation, and the Colonel gave them no command to do so. The order was given to "forward, march," and the Regiment paraded through the principal street of New Haven; at 2 o'clock it halted in the public square, where we were visited by our friends, also by some of the first families in the city. After resting two hours, the word was given "attention," and every Company was brought into line, and at the command "forward, march," the Regiment moved down Chapel street to State st., and then to the long wharf, where it halted and awaited the near approach of the transport, that was still out in the stream. At 5 o'clock the troops commenced embarking, Company A taking the lead, and at half past 6 o'clock all were on board, excepting a few, with the writer of this journal, who were detailed for duty at the Regiment's previous headquarters. On my way from the long wharf I met the crowd of citizens that was not permitted to go to the wharf with the Regiment. Never did my ears hear, or my eyes perceive, or my heart feel the strong yearnings of nature as they did at that moment; mothers weeping for their sons, and wives for their husbands, and sisters for their brothers, and friends for their friends, that were then on their way to the scene of conflict. White and colored ladies and gentlemen grasped me by the hand, with tears streaming down their cheeks, and bid me good bye, expressing the hope that we might have a safe return. My heart felt the sobbing impulse for the first time, and although I had no mother, no wife, and no sisters there to greet me, yet strangers ministered unto me, and never shall I forget their kind attentions to me. At 8 o'clock in the evening I went on board the transport, and received an introduction to Col. Wooster as Regimental Orderly Hill. The Colonel met me very kindly, and put his state-room, which was letter K, into my care.

At 10 o'clock I learnt the transport would not move anchor until next morning at 6 o'clock; after gaining this information, I had a desire to go ashore, but could form no excuse for doing so. While I was in doubt what to do about it, one of the officers, Lieut. Leonard, came to me and said. "Orderly Hill, can't you go to the post office for me, as I can't go ashore?" My answer was, "I will try and go for you." I had never spoken to the Colonel, and felt somewhat delicate about approaching him, but as I had never been refused a favor by a commanding officer, I took heart, adopting for my motto, "Without a trial, there can be no denial," and started for the Colonel, and found him in his berth. I said, "Colonel, can I go ashore?" He remarked, "If I grant you permission, except on business, others will expect the same favour." I said, "I have letters to carry to the post office." He said, "Well, you can go." I left him, and went to Lieut. Leonard, of company D, and asked for Dr. Bigbee, whose family was living in New Haven. The lieutenant passed him outside the guards with me, and we felt it to be a great favor, for which we were very grateful. When my errand was done, we proceeded to the residence of Dr. Bigbee, and found his wife had retired, but on learning who had arrived she arose, and a friend who was stopping with her, and they prepared us a good supper. We enjoyed it—still we were saddened with the thought that we might not meet again for three long years. We remained there until 2 o'clock, and then bid the last farewell to our friends in New Haven, and went on board the transport again, and laid down to sleep, but sleep had fled from me entirely, and daylight found me as I laid down, wide awake. Sabbath morning at 6 o'clock, we weighed anchor, and the stream bore us down its rapid tide until New Haven was lost in the distance. The day was spent very pleasantly, and at 3 o'clock we passed New York; and as we passed the city, our drummers assembled on deck and played, at which flags were displayed by the citizens, and cheers given in response. At 12 o'clock, the same night, we passed Cape May.

I fared the same as the officers. The great anxiety now was to see Annapolis, Maryland, which place we reached on Tuesday at 10 o'clock. As we approached the place all became disheartened at the appearance of things. Officers and men were much disappointed when we learned that we should have to camp three miles from the town. Now, for the first time, we had to pitch tents—the clouds threatened a storm, and the boys went eagerly to work and most of them had their tents up before night.

I spent the night in the Colonel's tent, and the next morning we found the earth covered with snow to the depth of eight inches. We found the people very inferior at this point; and a great many of the colored people had caught the distemper from the whites, their so-called masters. It was hard to find a pleasant family of colored people in the place; they appeared to be afraid to speak to us. The first Sabbath I spent in camp, and had the pleasure of listening to a very interesting sermon from a reverend gentleman that paid us a visit for that purpose. The text was, "And on him they laid the cross." He handled the subject with great credit to himself, and great applause was given by the soldiers. On the next Sabbath, which was the 27th of March, I visited the Methodist church at Annapolis. At 11 o'clock I preached to a crowded house, from Joshua, 3d chap. 11th verse. I preached at Zion's church in the afternoon, from Revelations, 3d chap. 4th verse, and truly the good Lord was with us. At 5 P.M. I returned to camp, and accompanied the Colonel to dress parade, and after it was over, I was informed that an appointment was made for me to preach in the camp at 7 P.M. Feeling much exhausted from the severe labors of the day, yet at the time appointed I was there, and endeavored to preach from the text, "The wages of sin is death." It was listened to by the officers and men with the utmost attention. The week following the Colonel was absent on business at Washington, D.C.; and according to frequent rumors in camp, our regiment was to spend the summer at this point. I had cherished the hope of greeting my dear family, whom I had left quite unwell at home; but on Friday my hopes were blasted by a general order, stating that the 29th Regiment should break camp at 7 o'clock on Saturday morning, and embark on the transport then lying in the stream opposite the navy yard, bound for Hilton Head, South Carolina.

Saturday morning found me up at 4 o'clock, and in the best of spirits, and as usual in a pleasant mood, but still I thought of home, sweet home—it was lost to my sight, but not to my memory—and although I was very busy, I did not forget the dear ones there; and while I was waiting for the cars to come and take the officers' baggage, as a soldier, the rail track was my chair and the cross-beam was my writing desk, I wrote to my wife at this last moment. I went by rail to Annapolis, and when I arrived there, I joined those who had gone by boat. My lot was cast to the steamer Swallow. I went on board and put the Colonel's things in his state-room and mine also, and then went on shore and spent the day until 5 o'clock in the afternoon, when the transport was launched out into the stream, and I was left ashore with the Colonel, Adjutant and Lieut. Colonel. All kinds of rumors prevailed on board. Some said I had deserted—others, that I was taken up for carrying arms, but 5 o'clock found me in a life-boat with the Colonel and his staff, bound for the Swallow, that was waiting our arrival. When the boys saw me, they gave three hearty cheers for Orderly Hill. We remained all night, and the next morning at 6 o'clock the Swallow started down the stream, and Annapolis was soon lost to view. The Swallow took the lead, and we soon lost sight of the other boats. Monday morning at 9 o'clock we arrived at Fortress Monroe and the pilot went ashore, and after remaining a few moments we set sail again for Hilton Head, South Carolina.

The wind was tolerably high, and the officers and men felt somewhat concerned in reference to passing Cape Hatteras that night, but God was in the wind, and when we passed the cape at midnight it was quite calm; and Tuesday morning found us on the blue sea, out of the sight of land. This was the first time in my life that I was ever out to sea, and it seemed very strange. All this time I had not been sea-sick, and began to think I should entirely escape, as I had been on the water two days. But at 3 P.M. I was very sick, and in company with many of the old seamen I had to cast up accounts for relief. It was very rough, and poor me! I thought I could not live, but the utmost attention was given me by the Colonel and officers. The same night the boat took fire, and being too sick to sleep, I was enabled to give timely warning of the accident, or we should have perished by the flames or a watery grave; but God was with me, and I got up in the midst of smoke and called the first mate, and then went to the Colonel's state-room and told him what had happened, and we put out the flames without arousing the other officers and men.