Kokomo, Ind., Sunday, July 2. Crossed the Ohio River yesterday about noon, into “God’s country” as the boys call it. Said assertion was rendered true, having a good dinner at the Soldiers’ Home. But when they put us in cattle cars two hours late, to go North, the spirit dampened. Started at, 2 P. M. northward, an extra train, made slow time.
Now we travel through a country never darkened with slavery and rebellion. The contrast was very great. I almost imagined I was transferred into the Elysian fields of mythology. The fields teemed with golden harvest, grain nearly all cut, droves of cattle grazed in rich pastures of tame grass, pretty little children could be seen gathered around district school-houses, and sweet girls appeared in neat calicoes with “nary” a “swab” in their mouths. Above all, we were welcomed. White handkerchiefs are waved enthusiastically from every house and hamlet, stars and stripes were thrown out triumphantly to the breeze as we passed along, each demonstration drawing forth ringing response from the joyous soldier boys. At Henryville an entire school of young ladies turned out to welcome the “extra” train with soldiers, the building being draped with a large flag. At Seymour a great arch had been erected over the railway on which was inscribed “Welcome Home, Brave Soldiers.”
Night soon overtook us now. It was 10 P. M. when we arrived, sleepy and well shaken, at Indianapolis, of which we knew no more than to hastily jump into another string of dirty box cars, and rush on through broken slumbers to Kokomo Junction, where we arrived 5 A. M. Are now waiting for an engine down from Chicago to take us up.
1st. Stayed at home and read most all day. Peck and a friend came down and stayed a few minutes. Ren left yesterday for his sister’s in Ill. Hated to have him go. Am uneasy to get away myself.
July 1, 1865.
Dear Sister L.:—
I send you another “boarder.” The time for distinction of color per se is past. The face you see is the counterfeit presentment of the “American citizen of African descent,” Jefferson Chisum Brown, called for short (or surnamed) Jeff. Mr. Brown belongs to a numerous and highly respected family. The fact that his name is not descriptive of his condition is not uncommon, or at all remarkable. Though he is Brown, he is also “black as the ace of spades.” That is a camp simile, which you will not understand, but it means very black. Mr. Brown’s former residence was Charleston, and he belonged to the aristocracy there. He came over from there with Robert Small on the Planter, and though his trip will be an event commemorated in history, Mr. Brown himself can claim little credit for it, because as he acknowledges—”he didn’t know whar dey was a fotchin’ him to.” Mr. Brown is at present employed as a polisher of metal (cleans the sword) and an artist (handles the boot brush) under the auspices of my friend Burrows.
July 1st. Arrived home last night at 9 o’clock. Great was the welcome home. Crowds were in waiting to receive us. Hearts full of thanksgiving that we were permitted to return to good old Connecticut. Soon made our way to our various homes.
July 1 — This morning at sunrise we renewed our boat march. From City Point at the mouth of the Appomattox up to Drewry’s Bluff the river is very crooked and winding, and the surrounding country is much more undulating than it is on the lower James. Coming up the river to-day I saw the Dutch Gap Canal -— or at least the top part of it — that General Ben Butler was trying to dig a year ago. The canal was not finished,— the bottom of it is mostly rock,— and is now only a little lower than the surface of the water in the river at flood tide.
General Butler’s object in digging the canal was to cut off some five or six miles of a big bend in the river that was good soil for Confederate torpedoes, and in the distance around the bend there are some first-class positions for batteries on the Chesterfield hills close to the river, which the use of the canal would have shunned entirely. The canal is about three hundred and eighty feet long, and its completion would have enabled General Butler’s flotilla to creep some five or six miles closer to the heart of Dixie without much peril. At Drewry’s Bluff we had to wait several hours for high tide, which came in at last, and about midday our boat arrived at the Rockets at the lower end of Richmond. There we immediately disembarked and bade a hasty farewell to our craft, and marched up into the city, first to headquarters of the provost marshal to secure transportation, then to the Central Depot, and had not long to wait for the train that landed us in Gordonsville this evening at dusk.
There were twenty-one of us ex-Rebels on the train, and when the train stopped here at Gordonsville, United States soldiers garrisoned here, our brethren and comrades now, were very kind and friendly to us and hospitably welcomed us to Dixie and courteously conducted us to our quarters.
This is Saturday evening. If we would have remained in Richmond until Tuesday we could have gone on the train to Staunton, but as it is we had to stop here at Gordonsville, as the train runs to Staunton only twice a week. The transportation man in Richmond told us that if we would wait until Tuesday he would send us through to Staunton, but some of our ex-Rebels in the squad were so anxious to get home that they thought it a sin to waste a few days in Richmond merely to save a good long walk. I was willing, and wanted to stay in Richmond a few days, but the majority ruled, and I obeyed.
Saturday, 1st—The weather is quite hot and sultry. We are looking forward to going home soon, and expect to receive such an order any time, though we have not yet heard of one having been issued.
Soldiers’ Home, Louisville, Ky., Saturday, July 1. 7 A. M. We have completed another ride in the dark, of 183 miles. Rode in second-class passenger cars, very crowded, and no sleep. Have had a splendid breakfast (for soldiers) at the Soldiers’ Home. Served in a manner which reminds us very forcibly that we are nearing civilization. Officers are working for the boys handsomely, will try to get us off 5 A. M. This hall is a musical one just now; four of the batteries, light artillery —all going home.
June 30th. Friday. Bosworth left for home. I read paper and books. Drew Longfellow’s Poems and Carleton’s “Days and Nights on the Battlefield.” Enjoyed reading it. How near Gen. Grant came to losing everything at Fort Donaldson and Shiloh. Played five games of chess with Mrs. Forbes.
June 30th. Very early this fine June morning our fife and drum corps went to the uppermost deck and beat the reveille, and played at all the river landings as the boat proceeded on up the river. It made good time, landing at Hartford about 7 o’clock, after a very pleasant journey from Martinsburg, West Virginia.
After we landed people began to come to the dock. After a time a detachment of the Hartford City Guard came to the dock as an escort. The regiment formed and with the escort, marched up State Street, thence up Main, countermarching to the State Capitol on Central Row, where Governor Buckingham, members of the legislature, and a few leading citizens, welcomed us home, and extended the thanks of the state for our patriotism and service. After the welcome and the addresses, breakfast was served at the hotels, our company going to the City Hotel. In the afternoon, regiment formed, marched out Park Street to a camp. Late in the afternoon we were allowed to go to our homes and remain over July 4th. Report back on the 6th for final discharge. Norwich. Home again.
June 30 — I did not sleep a wink last night. The sweet thought of freedom, the bright hope of seeing homeland once more, and the glorious vision of new sorts of viands played around me and chased away every vestige of slumber. The soothing god refused to be wooed and positively declared that he could not be won by me on such a night as this. This morning about eight o’clock we passed Fortress Monroe, which is situated at the mouth of James River, or rather on Hampton Roads. It is on the north side of the Roads in Elizabeth City County, and right at the entrance into Hampton Roads; it is a delightful place, for the exterior escarp of the fortress is covered with sod and appears more like the grassy terrace of a pleasure ground than the front of chamber where the engines of war are sleeping. Right opposite the fortress, about a mile distant, is the Rip Raps, a pile of rocks with cannon on it, situated in midwater, commanding the entrance to Hampton Roads. About eleven miles due south and across the waters of the Roads is the City of Norfolk. Fortress Monroe is on Old Point Comfort, and about seven miles nearly southwest of it a point of land reaches out boldly into the waters of Hampton Roads, on which the little town of Newport News is pleasantly and advantageously situated; it is in Warwick County. Old Point Comfort and Newport News are both favorably located for seaside health resorts, being in a mild, genial climate where the refreshing and salubrious sea breezes sweep in from the blue waves of the Atlantic, which makes a man feel good all over. This morning as we steamed through Hampton Roads a delightful cool breeze was blowing gently in from the sea. Hampton Roads affords first-class anchorage for large ocean steamers, and is one of the best harbors on the Atlantic coast. When we came through this morning an English man-of-war was anchored between Fortress Monroe and Newport News, and we passed close by its side. Everything about the whole ship, deck and all, looked as clean and fresh as though it has just come from the builder’s hand.
We steamed up the James River all day. The land along both sides of the river is mostly low and flat and vast levels stretch away to the dim distance unbroken by hills. We passed Old Jamestown this afternoon; I saw nothing there but old crumbling ruins. Jamestown is about four miles a little west of south from Williamsburgh and in James City County. Our boat stopped for night at Harrison’s Landing, which is on the left bank of the river, in Charles City County.
