Chenango Telegraph, Norwich, NY, March 18, 1863
Letter from the 114th Regiment
Brashaer City, Feb. 27, 1863
Dear Editors: The 114th has at length managed to get united once more, and are "right glad" to be able to look one another in the face again. Soldiers assimilate more closely probably than any other class of people. Officers and men become as it were one family, united by ties most firm, more enduring and perhaps more affectionate than most families are in quiet pursuits of peaceful life. Those at home, who have never been severed from all that they love, all they toil for, cannot appreciate the feelings of dependence upon one another that soldiers have. Kind words become necessary to mutual comfort, and mutual needs demand mutual accommodations. Selfishness among strangers is mean enough anyway, but amongst us here it is nothing more nor less than an act of sin.
Brashear City is a small village, dignified by title, but in fact a poor specimen of a country town. It is situated on Berwick Bay, and was the crossing place of the New Orleans, Opelousas and Great Western Railway. Berwick is another village similar in size on the opposite side of the bay. The Railroad appears to be laid out for a considerable distance, but the war has put a stop to its further advancement. We are now in close proximity to rebeldom, and really face to face with the enemy. A flag of truce comes down almost once a day on the other side to send over someone into our lines, or to spy out the nakedness of the land, which is the more likely. Why it is allowed is a matter that we privates are unable to comprehend. There can be no doubt that the secesh lines are not very far from us, and it seems to me that if I were in command I would have cleared them out or they would have me before this line. If it is going to be war I say give them enough of it, or as Gen. Rosecrans said "Our order are fight, fight right." We lose a great deal in my opinion, by not following them up, give them no rest, let the advance be always on the enemy's front until we compel them to surrender, or drive them to the place good people are supposed to be anxious to avoid. "Parish my name if aught afford / The rebels safety, but their sword / But fear not, doubt not, which thou wilt / We'll try this quarrel hilt to hilt"
Company B has been placed in a position in which to try their mettle, and nobly have they showed themselves men of coolness and pluck. This is the universal opinion from on all sides. On Monday afternoon (Feb. 23d), twenty men were drafted to go on board the U.S. Gunboat Kinsman to do the customary night picket duty at the mouth of the Atchafalaya river. Blankets were rolled and slung over the shoulder, cartridge boxes examined to see if the usual forty rounds were not "lost, spoiled or damaged by unavoidable accident of actual service" (see regulations) and everything needful got in readiness. Nick took command. About half past ten the gunboat steamed up the bayou, but when from within a mile and a half to two miles from the city she struck a snag and commenced filling rapidly. Capt. Wiggin, her commander, immediately turned her head down stream in order to make land below the steamboat docks, but she filled and sunk in deep water before he could reach the point proposed. This movement on his part was a foolish one, as he could have landed at a dozen places on the banks between the fort and Brashear. Our boys got ashore safely, some swimming and others being picked up by boats sent to their assistance from other vessels. To their credit be it added, there was not a murmur of fear escaped their lips. But as coolly as if going to parade they "struck out" for shore. Now with an overcoat on, bayonet sheath and forty rounds of ball cartridge strapped around your belly, swimming in a dark night is an amusement no one would pursue for pleasure. That they all should get safely on land is almost a miracle. Ira Dodge (by the bye, there is no dodge in him any way) made an ascension of the smoke stack, keeping himself in advance of the water as the steamer went down, and constituting himself a volunteer corps of observation. Lieut. Nichols refused to leave until he was assured that every one of "his boys" were safe and than took his chance with the rest. Bully for Nick. "His boys" won't forget him. If he ever gets in a tight place, you may bet high. I do not wish to be considered bragging our own trumpet in the least. Anyone of the companies in the 114th would in my opinion have acted in like manner. But it was our chance to get into trouble that night, and I have given you the facts as they were. I was not with them myself, being on guard in camp, so I cannot be accused of undue egotism on the matter. As to our regiment, I can safely say that a better set of men, physically and morally never left the Empire State, and with the same amount of drill would have been inferior to none in the service. But it has been our ill fortune to have been buffeted around by land and sea, first on leaky transports, then dismal quarantines, and then detailed in companies on guard at one station and another until we have seemed like the mere football of military incapability. Regimental or battalion drill appeared to us like a state of perfection seen afar off like the paradise of the true achiever, and only to be gained by weary marches and countermarches over ditch and corn fields, double quicking it until the legs begin to refuse duty, and the weary lungs to sound like a pair of blacksmiths' bellows in a high state of virtuous indignation. We have one consolation that we may learn something before our three years term of service expires. At all events we can try if we do not achieve perfection in the field, we can present arms and stand guard with the oldest veteran. To be of meanly habits appertains to no particular class of persons. To have our dwellings neat is a duty we owe to health. To have our brasses bright a matter of personal pride and gratification. But I have yet to learn if they constitute a perfect soldier. One of company H's boys is reported to have said to a certain field officer. "I don't know much about this presenting arms or standing guard, but if you want to fight, by thunder! I'm in." A remark embodying more truth than poetry, true or not.
The health of our regiment continues good, although the warm weather has been coming upon us rapidly for the last two or three days. The nights are damp and chilly and the dew falls as heavy as a young rain storm, rusting our pieces and keeping us in constant labor at cleaning up. Our camp is showing as busy a time as the Saturday scrubbing of your old-fashioned Yankee housewife.
Lieut. Gilbert, Company A, died in hospital a few days ago of fever. He had been sick a short time before coming with us up to Brashear, and never rallied after his removal from Lafourche. His decease is regretted by every member of his company, and by all in the regiment that had the pleasure of his acquaintance.
A short time ago I was detailed with five others to cross the river and keep watch for "rebs," while a gang of negroes were removing the ties from the unfinished railroad for use on this. During my stay I had a conversation with a non-committed chap residing in Berwick. He regretted the war because it emptied his pockets, but he gave me a curious insight into slave life. Some years ago he purchased a negro woman as a house servant and paid a good price therefor, the savings of his own labor. Shortly after he bought her husband, to use his own words "I was doing right well then, they made me six children, which if I could have kept with me would have been worth ten thousand dollars. Now they have cleared out, and I have nothing. I hired them out by the month, all but two little ones and I lived well enough. Now you see I have nothing." Good heavens! thought I, to consider the relation of man and wife as a mere tool by which to increase slave property, and foster his laziness. "Made him six children." See for yourself how even the white becomes demoralized. Leave the negro entirely out of the question, and with the principle of slavery as a basis of power for the capitalist over the laborer, you have a system which is in itself antagonistic to the ideas of an American democracy. Abolish forced labor and you will find that paid labor tends to reduce money to dependence upon brains and energy, and that the industrious mechanic can hold as high a position of independence as the wealthy nabob that needs his skill.
Lieut. Nichols was astonished to see by the Union that he had resigned. Nothing is further from his current intentions. When he does resign we are as apt to know it here in Louisiana before the people of Norwich, Chenango Co., New York. [unreadable] right and justice in every name and should be discontinued by everyone. This bye work of "they say" has done more harm than the gossip of fifty old maids at a village tea drinking ever tried to do.
Quarter Master Thompson is going home before long. He is very much afflicted with lameness. I am sorry Floyd is to leave us, on account of personal friendship and there are many others who will miss him as much as myself.
Lieut. Brooks, now in command of company C, looks as well as I ever saw him, and twice as natural. Capt. Bockee remains still at Quarantine, although the restraint enforced by the doctor in charge is by no means agreeable. I can appreciate his restiveness as we were stuck in that delightful place for three weeks. I do not think that there can be a more uncomfortable resting place in the whole State of Louisiana than that self same Quarantine. We have some thought of moving up towards the enemy before long, but do not know where. The 160th N.Y., 75th N.Y., 12th Conn. 8th Vermont, three batteries of Artillery and one squadron of cavalry are here with us. Hoping to hear from you soon, I remain.
Yours fraternally, One of the "Bumble Bees"
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