29th. Ren back last night. Cloudy but hot. Wrote home and to Headly. Bosworth and I called on Miss Tripp and Mrs. Searle. Had a very sociable time. Saw Miss Lizzie Daily a few minutes, too. Read “Country Living and Country Thinking” and “Miles O’Reilly.”
Monday, June 29, 2015
June 29th. After an all-night’s ride we arrived in Philadelphia early this morning. Left the cars, taking up the line of march, on through the city. Stopped at the refreshment rooms of the Cooper Shop, when a good breakfast was served by the good people of the city. Many soldiers will remember the Cooper Shop refreshment rooms at Philadelphia. After breakfast again on the march through the city, going on board a ferry-boat, and like Washington we crossed the Delaware River, to Camden and Amboy Railroad station, boarding a train for South Amboy, so we were informed. Leaving Camden, our journey was a continuous ovation by the people along the railroad line through Jersey. Cheers, waving flags. Cities and villages had erected arches with “Welcome home to our soldier boys.” Whenever the train would stop people came with refreshments. They knew the boys were ever ready to eat the good things. The journey across the state of New Jersey was a grand reception. Through a fine country. It was a happy time, and nothing happened to mar the pleasure of the journey. It was a very happy time. Arrived at Amboy all right. It was a great port for coal, an interesting sight for us, never having seen so much coal at any one time. Here we left the cars. After a short march went on board a government transport, bound for New York City. The journey on boat was very pleasant and enjoyed. The trip was along the south side of Staten Island, on through the narrows between Long Island and Staten Island, passing Forts Hamilton and Wadsworth. Large camps were located at the forts. Cheers greeted us as we passed on to the city, landing at the Battery, where the trip ended. At Castle Garden we were served with rations, after which we marched to Peck Slip, along South Street, boarding the steamer Granite State, bound for Hartford. A disappointment to us, as we had expected to land at Norwich, our home town, from which point we left on going to the war. We were used to disappointments and got out of the trip through the East River all the enjoyment we could. Long after dark we lay down on the decks for a little sleep and rest, that we needed very much. We knew that in the night we would be sailing up the Connecticut River. The evening was fine, and the steamboat had on board a happy crowd.
June 29 — About twenty thousand prisoners have been released here since the 9th of June, and to-day I was released, one of the very last ones of the whole vast throng; when I came out through the gate wagons were driving in to haul out the tents. The releasing operation was conducted in the following manner: When thirty-two names were called and answered to, the men were formed in a double-line squad and marched into the building that we used here for a church.
After I arrived on the inside of the door I was measured, and my height, color of hair and eyes, and my complexion were all recorded on my certificate of release. When the squad of thirty-two had all gone through with the preliminary operation we were marched deeper into the building, where a large United States flag was stretched horizontally overhead. Under this we formed in groups of four, when a Bible was handed to each group, on which we took the following oath, administered to the whole thirty-two at one time:
“I …. do solemnly swear that I will support, protect, and defend the Constitution and Government of the United States against all enemies, whether domestic or foreign; that I will bear true faith, allegiance, and loyalty to the same, any ordinance, resolution, or laws of any State, Convention, or Legislature to the contrary notwithstanding; and further that I will faithfully perform all the duties which may be required of me by the laws of the United States; and I take this oath freely and voluntarily without any mental reservation or evasion whatever.
__________________
“Subscribed and sworn before me, this twenty-ninth day of June, A. D. 1865.
“A. G. Brady, Major and Provost Marshal.
“The above-named has fair complexion, brown hair, and hazel eyes, and is 5 feet 7 inches high.”
After we were through with the oath-taking we were turned loose on a green grassy sward outside of the prison gate, and the men were so wild with joy that old veterans playfully tumbled and rolled on the grass like young schoolboys. Every man is furnished free transportation as near home as he can go by boat and rail. Now as I have taken a solemn oath to love, adore, honor, and protect Uncle Sam with all my powers, I intend henceforth to stick to him through evil as well as good report, with all the patriotism and allegiance that I saved from the wreck of the Southern Confederacy.
The following is a certificate of release that was given to every prisoner:
Just at nightfall the steam transport that is bearing us away from our winter resort drew up to the wharf, and the gangplank had hardly touched the shore before the newly made citizens of the United States rushed up the gangway like Rebels, crowding and pushing each other like cattle, everyone trying to get aboard first, for fear that the boat would not hold us all. At ten o’clock to-night our boat left Point Lookout, and now at midnight it is plowing through the long heaving swells of Chesapeake Bay, bound for Richmond, Virginia.
Thursday, 29th—I am on brigade guard again, being sergeant of the guard. Each day we have on guard from our brigade two commissioned officers, three sergeants, six corporals, and one hundred and thirty-eight privates. One of the commissioned officers, a captain, is officer of the day for the brigade, while the other, a lieutenant, is officer of the day for the regiment. We have to wear our white gloves on guard.
Chattanooga, Thursday, June 29. Aroused from our out-of-doors slumbers by the familiar notes of the old bugle at 3 A. M. Washed, and got aboard, and started 4 A. M. exactly. Ran very quietly and on time to Decherd, Tenn., which we reached by 12 M. Here we changed engines. Took an engineer unscrupulous and drunk, who ran the train at a dangerous rate between stations, then stopping for time and getting more whiskey. At times we traveled at the rate of thirty-five miles to the hour over a very poor track, in spite of the remonstrance of our officer. The conductor persisted in allowing him to draw us through.
Stopped to wood up. Many of the boys got off to pick blackberries which were very plenty. At the instant the signal was given to start, the drunken brute threw full power on the engine, starting up with great suddenness, and we were soon under full headway. Poor Frank King was on the ladder between the cars, and he lost his hold and fell on the rails, the forward trucks of the car I was on, passing over his lower extremities. The shuddering cries of the wounded man pierced the ears of all on board, and one and all strove to stop the train, but the engineer instead increased his power. Not until the boys locked the brakes so tight that his drive wheels flew over on the rail, did he stop, and then he made a mad effort to proceed, which resulted in breaking loose towards the forward end of the train.
Swift feet carried men back to where the unfortunate man lay. An engineer of the southern train was bathing his temples with water and endeavoring to stay the flow of blood, but he was gone beyond the power of human skill, his legs badly crushed and spine injured so that he died in a few moments without uttering an audible word. The train was backed up and the corpse put into a vacant car with his bereaved brother Fred, and we proceeded in the same reckless manner. The boys by this time were filled with just indignation, and at Murfreesboro, as the now perfect demon rushed into the nearest saloon to imbibe once more of the “devil’s beverage”, he was surrounded by a crowd, rushed out of doors and handled roughly, pistols were presented, and his life was in jeopardy, when he said “that he did not care if he killed every d—.”
Captain Simpson and Lieutenant Sturges of Battery E, 1st Ohio, telegraphed to Nashville the facts, and demanded another engineer of the conductor, but he refused, so Sergeant Dziewanowski and three or four others of our boys rode on the engine to watch him. Ran very well to Lavergne, fifteen miles from Nashville, when he discovered his boiler was almost dry, water all gone. Watered and he was obliged to run the engine alone to pump the water into the boiler. Ran down the track a mile and a half, and came back under all the speed he could raise. Without letting up struck the train, mashing in the forward cars, and knocking everybody in the train down nearly. By this time two pistols were fired at the villain, and a stone struck him on the head. He rushed on for Nashville, his fireman leaving him to his fate. After some delay another engine hitched on to us and we proceeded with caution. Five miles from town we found his engine on the road, he having taken himself to the woods. Reached depot by 10 P. M. and slept in the depot.
