Camp near Petersburg, February 4th, 1865.
Once more I find myself in camp, ready to act my humble part in the closing scenes of this great drama. I arrived at my journey’s end last evening; found the regiment where and as I left it; the men in good health and spirits.
I had the good fortune to meet my comrade, Charles Groesbeck, at the depot in Jackson. Our journey to Baltimore was pleasant as circumstances would admit; no accident, which is itself an accident.
At Baltimore our annoyances began. The bay had been closed for nearly a week. My furlough expired that night. Thursday morning I went to the Quartermaster to see if a boat was likely to leave. I learned the mail boat was to make an effort at 3:30 p. m. We were not alone; hundreds of soldiers were there on the same errand; some had been waiting over a week. There was a rush for transportation, and we were forced to leave our furloughs until noon, when they would be returned to us with our transportation papers. Noon came, and with it our furloughs— minus the others. There was a fix. We would not be allowed on board without it; to obtain it that day would be impossible. At the wharf we found a Government shipping agent, whose duty it is to furnish transportation for troops when ordered by the Quartermaster. He informed us that a Government vessel was to leave for Fort Monroe at 3:30, and, transportation or not, he would see us on board, and then we could take the mail for City Point. The time came, but no Government vessel, and the mail was about to leave. The bell rings; again it sounds out a warning peal; in five minutes she is off. Already they are preparing to haul in the planks. A hundred men in blue appeared, maddened by the unnecessary delay; gather around, threateningly. The temptation was irresistible; a charge was made; the guards were swept aside; we are on board. Put us off who can. The effort was not made.
We made slow progress until past Annapolis, stopping often for the ice boat to clear the way. Below Annapolis the Bay was clear of ice, and we made excellent time, reaching Fort Monroe at 8 o’clock next morning. Here another attempt was made to find out who had transportation and who had not.
Five guards were placed at the gangway, with bayonets fixed, and orders to let only one man pass at a time, while an officer stood by to examine our papers. The attempt was vain; again the guards were brushed aside; we rush on shore; make a “straight wake” for the Provost’s office, had our furloughs stamped, rushed again to the Quartermaster, where we succeeded in procuring transportation to City Point. From this time all went smoothly until we reached the Point at 5:30 Friday evening. Here we had our furloughs restamped and boarded a freight train for the front.
I found my comrades all right, and our little house in as good condition as when I left.
The Ninth Corps is under marching orders, and are turning over mules, wagons, etc.
God knows what the future has in store, but the memory of those few days spent with my loved family will ever be cherished as among the happiest of my life.
