Chenango Telegraph, Norwich, NY, December 9, 1863
Letter from Port Hudson
Port Hudson, La., Nov. 14th 1863
Editors Telegraph: When I ceased to be connected with the 161st Regt., I came to the conclusion that further communications with your readers through the columns of your paper would be uninteresting. I, therefore, ceased to write. But when I came to reflect that many of your readers have near and dear friends who life sleeping in their silent graves around these fortifications and that here flowed like water on the memorable 14th of June, some of the best blood of Chenango County. That many a fond parent's mind and heart are ever turned in sorrow towards Port Hudson as to another sepulcher where lies entombed all they hold nearest and dearest on earth. I venture to write a few lines at the risk, even, of being voted tiresome and insipid.
It is evening; what a contrast does the surroundings of Port Hudson present now as compared to 3 months ago, when 500 Chenango boys were bivouacked outside of its earthen walls. The camp fires of 20,000 men which lit up the evening sky, the sharp crack of the rifle, the boom of heavy cannon, the shrieking shells, the shooting star-like meteors which marked the track of the messenger of death, the long line of blazing fires which told where lines of infantry were at work, are no longer seen or heard. Silent and gloomy darkness enshrouds the deep woods and no sound breaks from them save that of the "boding owl", melancholy whippoorwill. The rank weeds grow now where then our bivouac fires burned. The fallen trunks and limbs of wounded trees block up the roads and paths made by the Union troops, and the thick, tangled vines cover and conceal the place of our encampments. They are tenantless now save by the thousand gallant dead who alone keep watch and vigil around us.
Within the change is no less striking and marked. The white sentinels have disappeared from the ramparts and given place to the Ethiopian. The rude, but comfortable, log huts have all been torn away, and in their place the light shines through a thousand tents, which, like so many transparencies, illuminate the scenery for miles along the entrenchments, and from these quarters come to our ears the mingled sounds of the music of the banjo and violin, the patting feet of the simon pure negro dancer, the mournful refrain of a plantation song, the sing song tones of a prayer meeting, and the boisterous laugh of a thousand careless and care fed enfranchised human beings. The lean, lank, long-haired sons of chivalry are all gone, and their places filled by the crisp-haired sons of Africa. Where the master held dominion, the slave, made free under military discipline, rules. The earthworks, torn and plowed by a thousand shot and shell, have all been repaired and changed. The engineer who planned and the men who reared would scarcely recognize them now. A new Fort, stronger in every respect than the old is being built within the outer lines and when all the work in process of erection are completed, this will be one of the strongest places in America.
This post is garrisoned by about 6,000 colored troops, mostly new recruits. They have been drilled but very little being employed a greater portion of the time on fatigue and -?- duties. They will prove, in my judgement, efficient soldiers if properly officered. They were reviewed a day or two since by Gen. Wadsworth and Adjutant General Thomas. 27 Regiments of 500 men each have been raised in this state alone. They are paid seven dollars per month. Contrary to the expectation of most men, the rate of mortality among them is greater than white soldiers. If they die as fast in all regiments as they do in those stationed here the question "What shall we be with the negro? will be solved in a few years with us the [..unreadable..] the women in entrenched camps are attached to the regiments as cooks, laundresses, [..unreadable..] attached to our regiment I have not known a case of sickness, while the average deaths among that number of men has been at least five during the last six weeks, the average sick, twelve or fifteen. In a sanitary point of view the king of Dahomey displays military judgment in preferring an Amazonian Army.
I have no news to write of the movements of the 19th Army Corps. No news is allowed to be published in the department of its whereabouts. All news reaches us from Northern papers.
Yours &c. S.E.W.
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