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Syria (Syria) (search for this): chapter 12
shell passed within about six inches of my side just above the hip, making by the concussion a black and blue spot as big as my two hands . . . . Of all the humbugs of war, commend me to being wounded. . . . No pain, no dressings or doses, a pleasant languor, nothing to do and no wish to do anything, a beautifully kept house and nobody but Dr. R. and myself in it, the hostess herself absent . . . to lie all day on a breezy balcony with green leaves and floating clouds,—why it is Arcadia, Syrian peace, immortal leisure. I blush to have bought it so cheaply as by a mere black and blue spot on the side, to show where a bombshell did not touch me. Not recovering from his injury, Colonel Higginson procured a month's furlough and went North to recuperate. When he had been at home a week or two, he assured his surgeon that although he was in a haven of peace he wanted to be with the regiment and sometimes felt quite homesick for black faces. This eagerness to return to active duty
Darien, Ga. (Georgia, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
the blessed veteran gets down his primer, dog-eared now as far as four syllables and away they go to the moss house where Mrs. D. holds sway over drummers and divines.. Pete says Uncle York told them that he once walked from a certain point to Darien, twenty miles discoursing all the way to himself and that he had finally to stop outside of Darien to end de discourse —In this and many other points he constantly reminds me of Socrates, only that Socrates, as it would appear, never did end. . .Darien to end de discourse —In this and many other points he constantly reminds me of Socrates, only that Socrates, as it would appear, never did end. . . . Pete, the Major's boy-servant, who had picked up Gallop dances from native Africans, leads the boys in shouts and decorates the school tent very prettily on his own plan. He is rather hard to wake in the morning and when the Major's boot is thrown at him with or without the owner's foot, he pleads apologetically that it is bad luck to wake de fus time you are called. Sometimes ghosts do call um, he adds in explanation, which implies the necessity of a wholesome caution. Colonel Higgi
Headquarters (Washington, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
the regiment too soon, and finding on his return an accumulation of work, and a visible loosening of discipline, he exerted himself beyond his strength. He wrote to Dr. Rogers who had been obliged to resign on account of ill health:— Headquarters, 1st S. C.V. Aug. 22, 1863. My Dear Doctor: You may thank your stars if you have any love for this regiment that I did come back before I felt fit to do it—for if ever a family of grown up babies needed a papa, this was the one. To be sureware to-morrow morning. So that matter is settled. The officers and men were all very desirous to go and I should have been sorry had we not done so. To Dr. Rogers, Colonel Higginson wrote an account of this plan and its outcome: Headquarters, 1st S. C.V., Camp Shaw, Beaufort, S. C., Feb. 20, 1864. Such a time as we have had this last fortnight. Sent out on picquet Monday—sitting in great hilarity on Wednesday eve, with a blazing fire, and suddenly summoned back by telegraph th<
Newport (Rhode Island, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
the conscripts have tried to bribe negroes to take them to the other side, and have actually started. Meantime, Mrs. Higginson had decided to remove to Newport, Rhode Island, for her health. Her husband wrote from Camp Shaw, November, 1863:— I can now see you at Newport, cat and two kitten . . . . I agree with you that aNewport, cat and two kitten . . . . I agree with you that at the end of my military pilgrimage, we might try Cambridge— indeed as people grow older they gravitate toward their birthplace. As Christmas Day approached, the Colonel wrote to his mother that the colored people were planning a great fair in Beaufort which enlisted all hands; and that on New Year's Day there was to be a barbeyou) of the Sould when hearing of one who when in darkness burst light on their part way. The following winter, the returned author reported to Dr. Rogers from Newport that he was writing about the St. Mary's expedition Up the St. Mary's, Atlantic Monthly, April, 1865.:— I never did anything so distasteful to me. It is a <
Borneo (search for this): chapter 12
ews hover and wail all night invisibly around us in the air, like vexed ghosts of departed slave-lords of the soil . . . . This was considered an especially severe plantation and there is a tree which was used as a whipping post, so that the marks of the lashes are still to be see . . . . As I sit in my tent door and adjudicate contested cases where the lingo is almost inexplicable, and the dusky faces grow radiant and sometimes majestic with eager expression, I seem like Rajah Brooke in Borneo; or like Whittier's lost Southern playmate: The dusky children of the sun Before me come and go Who should drive out to see me to-day but Harriet Tubman [the escaped slave, who rescued many of her race and conducted them to freedom] who is living in Beaufort as a sort of nurse and general care take . . . . All sorts of unexpected people turn up here. . . . My regiment has now 630 and they come in tolerably fast. They are easy to discipline and drill, and do as well as any regim
Cherokee, Ala. (Alabama, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
cribed in a letter to his mother. Advanced Picquet Station, Port Royal Island, April 8, 1863. We have happened into the most fascinating regions and life, riding all day through lanes overarched with roses and woods dense with young emerald leaves and looking across blue streams to the wooded and sunny mainland of South Carolina. A life that is as good as anything we have had, were only the zest of immediate danger added! A few days later he wrote:— This charming life among Cherokee roses and peach blossoms will last awhile . . . .How funny some of the rumors were about the capture of our expedition—one Democratic paper writing my obituary! Meantime the delay of payment caused more or less anxiety, though promises kept up hope. The paymaster writes, recorded the Colonel, that he is really making up our payrolls and we shall probably be paid in a week or ten days. The infinite pains Colonel Higginson took to keep his men in good training is revealed in such not
South Edisto River (South Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
rs. It was while at Port Royal doing picket duty that Colonel Higginson passed a rash night in the water which he described in an Atlantic paper and afterwards included in Army Life. In July, the regiment made another expedition up the South Edisto River, being gone thirty-six hours. After the capture of Port Royal, the plantations along the coast were abandoned and the slaves withdrawn into the interior. In order to reach the black population, it was necessary to navigate shallow, winding, and muddy rivers for miles. This proved a disastrous adventure for the Colonel. He wrote to his mother from Beaufort:— July 12, 1863. Only time to say that we have had another expedition up the South Edisto River . . . 30 miles and brought away 200 contrabands—such a scene— like notina but de Judgment Day they said. I had a knock on the side, not breaking the skin, I don't know from what, which still lames me somewhat but it does n't amount to the dignity of a wound, though the <
Georgia (Georgia, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
men and officers. In his journal he wrote:— Jan. 21, 1863, Camp Saxton . . . Our danger in such expeditions is not nearly so great as one would think, as we have cannon and the rebels have not, and they would run away from them. But I think they would run away from our men, even without the cannon—I should think they would—I should. They are perfectly formidable. The first expedition led the happy Colonel with his dusky troop up the St. Mary's River, which divides Florida from Georgia. He reported to his wife early in 1863:— We are five days out on a rambling expedition, I with 3 steamers and 400 men, having a very pleasant semi-piratical time. We have had one midnight fight in a wood, with a cavalry company, I killed, 7 wounded of ours, mostly near me, but I had not a scratch. The men are splendidly courageous . . . We have iron, lumber, rice, recruits, 67 prisoners, a cannon and a flag. Three days later he wrote to his mother:— We have made one of
Port Royal (South Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
xplain something to him— You know, Quartermaster, no use for nigger to try to comb he wool straight, he always short and kinky —He brains short, too, sa. At Port Royal, Colonel Higginson encountered, in the Brigadier-General commanding opposing troops, a former Brattleboro acquaintance. He wrote, April 19, 1863:— The bes war seems to me glorious, however slow, when I think of these freedmen and women here. These are days of the Lord, each a thousand years. It was while at Port Royal doing picket duty that Colonel Higginson passed a rash night in the water which he described in an Atlantic paper and afterwards included in Army Life. In July, the regiment made another expedition up the South Edisto River, being gone thirty-six hours. After the capture of Port Royal, the plantations along the coast were abandoned and the slaves withdrawn into the interior. In order to reach the black population, it was necessary to navigate shallow, winding, and muddy rivers for mile<
Worcester (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
been called Higginson Hall but the painter objected telling the proprietors that the other Colonels might take offence, so that immortal honor was lost. Instead, the proprietor is one of six (all black) who have made up $60 to buy a sword to be presented me on New Year's Day. December 28, he wrote:— We are busy with preparations for New Year's Day. My sword has come, but I have not seen it— it was selected by Frank Shaw and cost $75. This with my captured one and the one given at Worcester will be a memorial, when the war is over, of my share in it. After the presentation of this sword he reported:— Jan. 8, 1864. Did I tell you that after the New Year's Festivals, the little Tribune correspondent came to me for my wemarks (he is English, 3 feet high; and a goosey) and the inscription on my sword. I could not give him the former but the latter was easily made visible. It ran thus Tiffany & Co. New York. These three swords entwined with a faded sash are <
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