Spanish moss. The wheels of the guns sank in the mire and were dragged along with much difficulty. A cold March wind swept over the drenched and shivering ranks, and notwithstanding all the endeavors to keep up good cheer, the hours were dark and dreary. Much of this suffering might have been, and should have been avoided. One of the vessels contained a floating bridge, to secure the landing of the soldiers dry shod. But the eagerness to get to the shore, very unwisely caused this precaution to be neglected or forgotten. For a couple of hours the troops marched along the low and marshy banks of the river, filling the road in a dense line two and a half miles in length, and meeting with no signs of the foe, until about noon, when they came upon some cavalry barracks, which had been so suddenly deserted, that both officers and men had left their breakfasts cooked, yet untouched. All the conveniences of camp life were strewn about, and one pony was found left tied. In a compact mass they still pressed on, officers in the rear urging forward the loiterers. The Massachusetts 24th led the march. The Connecticut 11th brought up the rear. They had advanced but a short distance farther, when they came upon a line of breast-work and batteries, directly facing them, and a mile in length. Instantly the column halted and prepared for battle. It seemed that those works must be carried by storm; and that could not be done but by the sacrifice of many lives. A small party was cautiously sent forward to reconnoitre. They soon returned with the joyful news that the works were deserted. These earth-works were massive in their strength, and probably had employed. thousands of slaves for many weeks. A deep moat extended along the whole front, while an abattis of felled trees protected the flanks. The rebels, in this war, never rejected the ordinary principles of common sense, but ever made use of the services of the colored man, as of all other potencies, wherever they could render that service available. Fortunately for the National troops, the rebels had not yet mounted their guns, and without a conflict the United States flag floated over these ramparts. After a few moments' delay the troops again pressed forward, having still a march of eight miles before them, and batteries to storm on the way, they knew not how many. Weary and foot-sore the weak and exhausted began now to drop from the ranks. The officers, with stern commands, urged them forward. The chaplains whispered words of encouragement to their drooping hearts. Still the way-side, for the remainder of the march, was strewed with those who, from sheer inability, could move no farther. To add to the discomfort a drizzling rain began to fall, keeping the men thoroughly drenched to the skin. The mud was often knee-deep. Many had lost their shoes in the mire, and their feet were torn and bleeding. Like the clouds of the approaching night, a dark spirit of despondency was settling down over the minds of the men, when a horseman from Newbern was arrested, who communicated the cheering news that Manassas was evacuated, and that McClellan was doubtless pursuing the retreating foe before him, down through Fredericksburg to Richmond. These tidings came like rays of sunshine, and the welkin rang with the cheers which rose from the lips of the men. Unfortunately our army at Manassas knew not where the rebels had fled. White men in Virginia would not tell us. Colored men were not permitted to tell us. Consequently our troops, by forced marches, had to rush back again to Washington, for fear that the rebels should get there before them, by a back route. Thus, while the rebels were running south, we were running north. The writer was in Washington at that time, and saw our troops on their march to Manassas, and, with cheeks tingling with shame, saw them on their hasty return. This policy protracted the war for months, and cost us fifty thousand lives and fifty millions of money. The same policy subsequently reigned at Corinth, where a rebel army marched quietly away, from a National force vastly superior, without the loss of a baggage-wagon, a gun, or a man. The Administration, in "the times of this ignorance," which God did not "wink at," felt constrained to adopt that policy, since the leading men in the Border States, and many in the North, threatened to abandon the National cause unless that policy were pursued. The tidings, however, that our magnificent army of the Potomac, 250,000 strong, were on the triumphant march for Richmond, electrified the weary troops; and when the order was again given "Forward," with new alacrity they resumed their march. At six o'clock in the gloomy twilight of a rainy day, the scouts reported that a line of rebel fortifications was but a mile ahead. It was too late to attempt an attack that night, and the welcome order was given to halt. It was a wet and miserable night, and the troops, weary, muddy, utterly comfortless, threw themselves down on either side of the road, with no tents, no protection, but the pine forest, and thousands were soon fast asleep. Others, however, more vigor ous, cut up the resinous fuel of the pitch-pine, and soon innumerable fires, with crackle and roar, illumined the forest, and the scene assumed an aspect of picturesque sublimity and beauty. At seven o'clock the next morning the men had all taken their breakfasts and were again in motion. They were now marching by the side of the railroad track, which connects Newbern with Beaufort. The gunboats were advancing slowly along the shore, keeping pace with the army. Gen. Reno, with the 21st Massachusetts, led the van. Upon turning a curve in the road, they came in sight of a train of cars, which had just come down from Newbern, with reënforcements for the rebels. In front of the locomotive, there was a platform car, with a large rifled cannon in position to rake the road. The Massachusetts men rushed forward at the double-quick, at the same time pouring in such a volley of bullets upon the foe, that they abandoned everything and ran for the intrenchments. The troops were immediately deployed in line of battle through the woods, and impetuously commenced an attack upon the formidable ramparts. The first cannon-shot from the rebel battery passed through the body of Lieut.-Col. Henry Merritt, of the Massachusetts 23d, and he fell instantly dead. The 10th Connecticut, under Gen. Foster, a very gallant body of men, occupied the extreme left, and, under the most discouraging circumstances of position, maintained the renown they had acquired at Roanoke. The whole line extended more than a mile. For an hour the battle raged in an unintermitted storm of bullets and cannon-balls from both sides, with no apparent advantage to either. Many, however, struck by the balls, fell wounded or dead. Among the dead fell Adjutant Frazer A. Stearns, son of President Stearns, of Amherst College, in Massachusetts. This young man was a true Christian knight, with unsullied escutcheon. An earnest, manly Christian, by his heroic character he had won the respect, and by his genial, generous nature, the love, of all his comrades. He fell a martyr to the noblest cause for which a man ever died. A bullet passed through his breast, and, as his body fell to the earth his spirit ascended to Heaven. The enemy were behind intrenchments, which the negroes had thrown up. The National troops had to storm these ramparts with nothing but their bare breasts to present to the foe. Behind the redoubts the rebels had large numbers of strong, vigorous negroes to do the hard work, to bring balls and shells, to work and load the heavy guns, the gunners only sighting and firing them; while our young men, unaccustomed to laborious toil, had to drag with their own blistered hands, the guns through the ruts, and wear out their energics in those exhausting toils which the colored men were able and anxious to perform. As the National troops gradually drew nearer the breast-work, the fire of the rebels became more galling. Lieut.-Col. Clark, of the Massachusetts 21st, ordered a charge, and, at the head of four companies, rushed, at full run, through one of the embrasures. The rebels, astonished at such audacity, fled from the gun. The colors were waved over the conquest, when, just as the heroic little band were preparing to sweep down the enemy's line, and take the next gun, two rebel regiments came charging upon them, and they were compelled to retire. Capt. J. D. Frazer, wounded in the right arm, dropped his sword. He seized it with his left hand and endeavored to escape. But, stumbling in the ditch, he was taken prisoner. A few moments after the Rhode Island 4th. made a successful charge at the same spot, and Capt. Frazer was rescued, he taking with him the three rebels who had been placed over him as a guard. This charge by Col. Rodman leading the 4th Rhode Island regiment, was one of the most heroic deeds of the day. They were in front of a battery of five guns; while there was another battery close by its side of nine. guns, protected by rifle pits., At the double-quick they ran upon the muzzles of these five guns, pouring in a volley of bullets as they ran, rushed through the parapet, and instantly, with the precision of veterans, forming in line of battle, with a bristling array of bayonets bore down upon the other guns, thus capturing both batteries with two flags. The 8th and 11th Connecticut and the 5th Rhode Island, followed closely in their tracks, to support them. The enemy fled precipitately, and the Stars and Stripes floated proudly over this small portion of the enemy's extended line. A grand charge was now made upon the enemy's left, aided by the troops who were already established within the ramparts. The enemy could stand it no longer, and in great confusion they fled. With exultations and shoutings which none can appreciate but those who have passed through such terrible scenes-perhaps the most ecstatic joy of fallen humanity-the National troops clambered over the ramparts, discharged |