occupy the right flank of the brigade.

December 21. We received our new rifles and were greatly delighted with them. They were Enfield rifles, made in England. The 22d and a number of days following, we were marched out into the country, into a very large field, and put through regimental drill for four or five hours every day. It was the first time the regiment had all been together since we were at Baltimore. The 26th we received a supply of ball-cartridges and went out into the same great field again, put up a lot of targets at different distances and practiced firing at them for a number of days, accustoming ourselves to estimating distances, and adjusting the sights on our guns to the different distances. We had our final drill and practice in firing at target the 2d of January. After we went in town off the railroad we did a lot of drilling and firing at target and I think the boys were then in fine shape for a campaign. The stay at Annapolis was an excellent experience for us. We became accustomed to army life and if we were ever to be in shape for active service we were then. The last days at Annapolis were very lively; new regiments were arriving daily. There were inspections; ships were gathering in the bay; Colonel Morse resigned command of the regiment to become Commander of the Post; Lieutenant-Colonel Maggi took command of the regiment, and on January 6th we went on board the ship Northerner, bound for we knew not where.

Chapter II

THE NORTH CAROLINA CAMPAIGN

On shipbound. Burial at sea. At Hatteras Inlet. Battle of Roanoke Island. Battle of Newbern. Reading Johnnies’ love letters. Athletics. Battle of Camden. Went to the relief of the 2d Maryland.

Although we went on board ship the 6th of January, 1862, we did not leave port until the 9th. General Reno, our brigade commander, came on board the 7th and we were much pleased that he was to be with us on our ship during the voyage.

The morning of the 9th we moved down the bay; late in the afternoon the weather grew thick and we anchored for the night. The next day about noon, the fog having lifted, we moved on and about sunset sailed into Hampton Roads and anchored with a number of other ships of the squadron not far from Fortress Monroe.

The “Northerner” was a large boat, but a thousand men aboard made her very much crowded.

Between ten and eleven o’clock the night of the 11th, amid a furore of signals, whistles, ringing of bells, etc., we left Hampton Roads and headed out to sea. I had turned in when we started but soon realized that we had left the placid waters of Chesapeake Bay, and that the good ship “Northerner” was plowing its way through the waves of the open ocean.

It was midwinter. The wind was blowing strongly; the ship rolled and plunged and as I lay in my bunk I soon became aware that many of the boys were sea-sick. I felt a little peculiar myself, but decided the best thing for me to do was to lie right still in my bunk. I soon went to sleep and slept until morning. As soon as I got up I was sick, too. I ate no breakfast and was sick most of the forenoon, but during the afternoon my stomach became settled and during the rest of the voyage I was able to eat and was as well as usual.

The next day our destination was revealed. We were bound for Hatteras Inlet and the North Carolina coast. The cape, a narrow belt of sand, came into view. The waves breaking on the sand made a white line all along the cape and we could hear the roar of the breaking waves. The forts at the inlet that looked like two piles of earth could be distinguished but the sea was too rough to attempt to enter the inlet so we anchored in a sheltered place and waited until the next day when the wind and sea having quieted down we were able to pass safely through the inlet.

Cape Hatteras is known to mariners as a rough, stormy place. The wind blows almost a gale there nearly all the time. We were thus heartily glad when we found ourselves safely inside the inlet. Our ship was among the first to arrive inside; for many days ships of the squadron continued to come in.

This was the first trip on the ocean for many of us, but while it was very rough and fraught with exposure and danger, the spirit of adventure was so strong among the boys that on the whole it was welcome experience.

After we arrived in harbor we learned that the captain of the ship was found dead drunk, by General Reno, the night of the 12th, at the very most critical time when we were approaching the inlet. He was put under arrest and command of the ship was turned over to the first mate. The captain intended to run into the inlet that night, which would have been a very perilous thing to attempt.

Just before running into the inlet we witnessed a new and weird ceremony,—burial at sea. The night of January 12th and 13th two men had died on board; one a Company A man, and a Company B man. They were each put into a canvas sack with a 32-pound ball at the feet and dropped overboard.

The basin where we were anchored was simply a deep hole just inside the inlet. It was large enough to accommodate ten or fifteen ships comfortably, but towards the last of our stay there, when all or nearly all the ships of the squadron had arrived, and there were seventy or eighty ships there, the place became dangerously crowded.

Soon after reaching the inlet it was discovered that the “Northerner” and some other vessels drew too much water (nine feet) to cross the bar which had only eight feet of water at high tide, to admit of their passing into the sound. We lay there from the 13th until the 26th when, after the regiment and everything else that was movable had been transferred to other vessels, three tugs succeeded in dragging the “Northerner” across the bar. The two weeks we lay anchored in that basin seemed like months. All one could see was sky, water and the cape, a narrow strip of sand stretching off to the north and south, the whole a picture of desolation. The ocean waves came pouring and thundering unceasingly in from the east, pounding the cape as if determined to force their way into the sound. The wind blew a gale and it rained most of the time. The sun shone only twice during the two weeks. On account of the delay, the water supply ran short and but for the rain we would have suffered for water.

Two ships of the squadron never made the inlet. The “City of New York,” a freighter loaded with tents, ammunition, etc., ran onto the rocks and went to pieces trying to make the inlet. The “Pocahontas,” another freighter, loaded with horses, went ashore some distance up the coast. One day the colonel and surgeon of the 9th New Jersey Regiment came into the inlet in a rowboat from their ship outside, for orders. They got their orders and started back, but were swamped in the breakers in plain sight of us. The ships were continually dragging anchor and running into each other. Just before we got across the bar it became known that we were bound up Pamlico Sound to attack Roanoke Island.

Life became more bearable after we got across the bar out into the sound. The storm had passed off, the sun came out. We received our first mail from home the 28th. The gunboats practiced firing at targets and we boys practiced firing at ducks and gulls with our revolvers.

February 5th we started up the sound, the gunboats taking the lead. It was a handsome sight, eighty ships in all, forty gunboats, and about the same number of other ships carrying the