THE
BIVOUAC AND TIlE BATTLE-FIELD;
OR,
QIam  aigr   bktr
IN
VIRGINIA AND MARYLAND.
~
BY  GEORGE  F.  NOYES,
CAPT. U. S. VOLUNTEERS.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1 8 6 3.
We/  ff
I
.1 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand
eight hundred and sixty-three, by
IHIARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District
of New York. 
TO
MAJOR GEN. A. DOUBLEDAY, U.S. VOLS.,
AND
Cis first Staffs
THIS RECORD OF OUR COMMON EXPERIENCES IS
AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY
THE AUTHOR
Ir
__
.1  
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
War is a Conglomerate.-Design of these Sketches............Page 13
CHAPTER II.
OFF FOR THE WARS.
Departure from Washington.- A Word or two as to the Staff.  Mount Vernon.-Arrival at Aquia.-Sleeping in Boots and Spurs.
-Sutler's Breakfast....................................................... 16
CHAPTER III.
FREDERICKSBURG.
Our new Quarters.-Welcome of the Contrabands.-Want of Wel  come of the Neighbors. -A  Staff Breakfast.-Sudden transition
from Hauteur to Decency.-The Streets.-Zion.-A Reconnois  sance in Force.-Talk with a Union Lady.-The Episcopal Church.
-A bitter Disappointment............................................... 26
CHAPTER IV.
CAMP OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG.
Ordered to Falmouth.-Quarters at Wallace House.-How the Army
is organized.-The Titles and Duties of the Staff.-Camps and 
Camp Customs. -Droll Ideas as to Confiscation.-Orders to be
"ready to move at a Moment's notice.............................. 34
CHAPTER V.
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
Change of Base.-Capture of Major Lacy.-My Friend the military,
Governor.-The Contrabands, and their Capacity to take care of
themselves.-The Quarter-master's Affirmation.-Contraband Wor
k.  
CONTENTS.
ship.-An exciting Day.-The Black Scout of the Rappahannock.
-The 14th Brooklyn and their Confederate Money.-Too much
cosseting of Treason.-A crestfallen rebel Female.-General Pope
assumes Command. - Quarter-master's Certificate to Rebels. -
Fourth of July.-Courts-martial.-Punishments in the Army.Burnside arrives.-Life in a Tent............................... Page 41
CHAPTER VI.
FROM FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
Orders to March.-Formation of a Column.-Farewell to Fredericks burg.-First Bivouac.-Troops on a March.-Straggling.-A Sol dier's Rations.-A disagreeable Race.-Fording the Rapidan.
"Poor white Trash."-Troops in Camp.-Midnight March.-Bat tle Speech of a fighting Colonel.-Yankee Crusaders.-Bivouac
near Culpepper.............................................................. 56
CHAPTER VII.
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
Head-quarters al fresco.-Visit to the Wounded. —Rebel Prisoners.
-The Heroes of the late Battle.-Review by General Pope.-Visit
to the Battle-field.-Riding vs. Walking.-A Night-scene in Camp.
-Cedar Mountain................................................... 69
CHAPTER VIII.
FROM CEDAR MOUNTAIN TO THE RAPPAHANNOCK.
Tedious March.-Pillage by the Troops.-Sleep in the Mud.-Rap pahannock Station.-Breakfast in the Saddle.-Exciting Cavalry
Charge........................................................................ 80
CHAPTER IX.
ARTILLERY DUEL AT RAPPAHANNOCK STATION.
The Enemy open the Ball.-" Lie down."-Sleep under a Wagon.
-  Dead Braves on the Battle-field.-Supporting Artillery.-Cour   age and Cowardice.-A frightened Prisoner.-A Rebel Line cut
down by Shot.-A Disappointment.-A Ride under Fire.-Excit   ing Charge by a Rebel Regiment....................................... 88
CHAPTER X.
FROM RAPPAHANNOCK TO WARRENTON. 
Wagons and Wagon-trains.-Army Transportation.-Delays.-Head
quarters in a Mud-puddle.-EEntry into Warrenton.-Great De
vi 
CONTENTS.
mand for Supplies. -Warren Green Hotel. -The perambulating
Commissary.-Quiet Sunday Afternoon....................... Page 99
CHAPTER XI.
ARTILLERY DUEL AT WARRENTON SPRINGS.
Expected Battle.-Only an Artillery Duel. -Experiences among our
Batteries.-Visit to the fashionable Springs.-Once more en route.
-Company Q............................................................. 108
CHAPTER XII.
BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE.
March toward Centreville.-Sudden Rebel Salute.-Infantry Storm
the Battery.-Our Clergyman Captain. -Magnificent Battle-scene.
-Yankee Presence of Mind.-Frightful Loss.-Union Cheers of
Victory.-A Ride among the Wounded.- Roadside Council of
War.-Rebel Prisoners.-Manassas Junction..................... 114
CHAPTER XIII.
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
Re-enforcerents.-Battle-field of Bull Run.-Double-quick against
the Enemy.- A Rebel Trap. -The flanking Fire. -A terrible
Death-angle.-A Retreat.-A Union Officer rallying the Second
Mississippi.-A sad Night.-Second Day.-Our thinned Ranks.  Meeting of the Union Generals.-The famous Dispatch of Victory.
-Every Body happy.- Ride to Centreville.-Bitter Disappoint  ment.-Our Army in Retreat......................................... 123
CHAPTER XIV.
CENTREVILLE TO UPTON'S HILL.
An Army in the Blues.-March toward Fairfax Court-house.-Biv  ouac in Line of Battle.-A new Regiment.-An immense Wagon  train with Variations.-A March under Difficulties.-Battle of
Chantilly.-A wet Bivouac.-Life in a Shanty.-March to Upton's
Hill........................................................................... 141
CHAPTER XV.
INSIDE THE DEFENSES OF WASHINGTON.
Four Days of Quiet.-The Army of Virginia not guilty of Neglect of 
Duty.-The old Army of the Potomac.-Ordered to March.-Part
of a Night in Washington............................................... 148
vii
i 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XVI.
WASHINGTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
A remarkable Breakfast.-Sunday Streets.-Pleasant Reception.
Camp ten Miles out.-Trip to Washington.-Cheerful Mess-ta ble.-On the March.-Camp near Lisbon.-Rebel Wounded. The warlike South.-Southern Endurance.-Southern Chivalry. A better Acquaintance with the North.-Our Volunteers.-Loy alty.-A great Dinner............................................ Page 153
CHAPTER XVII.
BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.
Enthusiastic Reception.-"I don't want any Bear."-Feelings on
going into Battle.-The Heights of South Mountain.-The Skirm ishers. -A beautiful View. -The Rush into Battle.-" Steady,
Boys, steady!"'-At the Fence.-The leaden Storm.-A desperate
Charge.-" Three Cheers for Victory."-One more Rebel Rally.
-Ricketts's Division.-Desperate Fight on our Left.-An anxious
Hour.-Asleep among the Dead.-What becomes of the Bullets?
-An awful Sensation.......................................... 165
CHAPTER XVIII.
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM.
, The Morning after the Battle.-A Virginia Conscript.-The Rebel
Dead.-My young Lieutenant.-The Burial of our Braves.-A
hospitable Staff.-Orders to Pursue.-A rejoicing Column. -" My
Maryland."-The wayside Inn.-Rebel Prisoners.-Rebel Demor   alization.-The Union Lady's Tale.-Nine Rebels captured by one
Orderly.-The Rebel Flag of Truce.-Meeting of the Generals.   A pleasant Glen.-Tempest in a Teapot.-Chickens and Accom   paniments.-A Night at Boonesborough.-Head-quarters under a
Tree.-Sumner's Head-quarters...................................... 179
CHAPTER XIX.
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
Return to Division.- Non est Inventus. - The Roar of Battle.  M'Clellan's Head-quarters.-Glance at B3attle-field.-A Hunt for
the Division.-A ghastly Procession.-A hot Place of Meeting.-,
The Key Point of the Right Wing.-Incidents of the Battle.-A
Day of Waiting.-An annihilated Company.-The Fighting on
viii 
CONTENTS.
our Left.-Rumors.-Terrific Artillery Contest.-Close Shooting.
-A  thrilling Experience.-A  Night on the Battle-field.-The
Absurdity of War. - What does it decide? - Forced upon the
North.................................................................. Page 194
CHAPTER XX.
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.
An early Breakfast.-Waiting for Orders to Advance.-A Day of
Disappointment.-The Escape of the Enemy.-Army Letters.
A quiet Hour among the Wagons.-A Ride over the Battle-field.
-Appearance of the Dead.-A pleasing Picture.-The little
Church.-Rebel Officer.-The "Slaughter Pen."-Fence - rail
Barricades.-A Law of Death.-The Burial of the Dead.-An
Army of Visitors.......................................................... 211
CHAPTER XXI.
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
Our Division Staff.-The Condition of the Troops.-Need of Read ing Matter.-A Suggestion.-The Evening Camp-fire.-The Quar ter-master's Story.-Difference between Bribery and Corruption. The Army Correspondent.-A  Black Sheep.-Pleasant Rides.  Shephardstown in Excitement.-A mangled Grove.-In Memori  am.-How a Yankee Sutler outgeneraled a Quarter-master... 222
CHAPTER XXII.
THE HOSPITALS AND THE SANITARY COMMISSION.
Nature hiding away the Traces of Battle.-Sharpsburg.-Life in a
Cellar during the Bombardment.-The Army of the Wounded.  Visits to the Rebel Hospitals.-Little Histories.-Rebel Officers.
-Our own Braves.-The Republican Legion of Honor.-Care of
the Wounded.-The Sanitary Commission.-General Rosecrans's
Testimony.................................................................. 236
CHAPTER XXIII.
ANTIETAM AND HARPER'S FERRY.
Interior Tent-life.-The unhappy Candidate for Military Examina  tion.-A Ride to Harper's Ferry.-John Brown.-View from the
Heights.-The liberal Marylander.-Slight Change of Base.  Charge of Hooker's Brigade.-" Spiflicating."-" Present Arms."
-An Hour among the Dunkers..................................... 248
A2
ix
I 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXIV.
FAREWELL TO MARYLAND.
Bakersville.-Pitching Tents by Night.-A March through the Mud.
— "D-o-n-'t Shoot."-Army Songs.-A Horse Trader. -A
Night at Crampton's Pass. -March through Berlin.-A Welcome
to Virginia........................................................... Page 261
CHAPTER XXV.
ONCE MORE INTO VIRGINIA.
All Hail! Virginia.-A Community of Friends.-The Flight of the
Contrabands.-Berryman and Charles.-Driving out the Rebels
from the Gaps in the Blue Ridge.-Our old Brigade.-A  Ride
back to Berlin.-A Night with Rufus Choate.-The Major's Ad ventures.-Sibley Stoves.-A false Alarm. -Cold Reception at
Warrenton.-A few Crumbs of Sleep................................ 269
CHAPTER XXVI.
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTH.
Burnside in Command.-A Roving Commission.-A Village of Fire.
- Picturesque Night Scene. - A pleasant Evening. - Camp at
Fayetteville.-A tedious March.-A good Supper.-Conversation
with a Negro Worshiper. -A whining Do-little. -Stragglers.  Slough of Despond.-Camp near Railroad.-The Pontoon Trains.
-On the Move.................................. 278
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANNOCK.
Laying Pontoons of Left Grand Division.-Desperate Work.-Final
Success. -Not so Fortunate up River. -Bombardment of Fred  ericksburg.-ohn's Disaster.-A Look at the unfinished Bridge.
-The White Handkerchief.-A Call for Volunteers.-The Pas  sage in Boats.-The Bridge completed.-Decorations of Honor.  The Street-fighting.-A Visit to Fredericksburg.-Our Army not
a pillaging Army.-Effect of Bombardment.-Approach to Rebel
Sharpshooters.............................................................. 291
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
The Battle Arena.-An Hour of Anxiety.-The Advance.-Tlhe
Rebel Storm.-Another Advance. -That terrible Stone Wall.
x 
CONTENTS.
Retreat to the Ravine.-Sturgis's Division on the Left.-The Gallantry of our Volunteers.-The Battle on the Left.-A Ride to the
Front. - The extreme Left. - The Whitworth Gun. -  Roadside
Head-quarters.-A novel Game of Cards.-The Recrossing of the
River.-The Bringing off of the Pickets...................... Page 304
CHAPTER XXIX.
A CAMPAIGN IN THE MUD.
Another Blast from the Whitworth Gun.-Huts of Troops.-Change
in Commander. - Twice Six makes Twelve. - Corduroy. - A
March through the Mud.-Head-quarters in a Puddle.-A flying
Bedchamber. -An aquatic Excursion.-A doleful Ride.-Sere  nade.-Return of the Wanderers.....................................  321
CHAPTER XXX.
WINTER-QUARTERS.
Days of Waiting.-Future Glory of the Army of the Potomac.  Volunteers. -Defective Discipline. -Field Officers. -Waste of
Ammunition. -Ratio of Casualties in Battle.-Demoralization.
-Concluding WVVords............................................. 329
xi  
THE BIVOUAC
AND
THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER I.*
INTRODUCTORY.
"'QATAR is fight," declares the pithy though imper   V fect English translation of a well-known German work on the art of war.  "War is a series of blunders, wherein he who makes the fewest is sure to conquer," said a staff-comrade to me after one of our reverses. "War is waiting," has sometimes seemed a
military maxim followed and cherished by those high
in command. It is, indeed, a conglomerate, made up,
we may say, somewhat as follows:
Waiting...... —— four parts;
Blundering........ three parts;
Marching and fighting.. three parts.
Our campaign sketches must therefore partake of
all these ingredients. Attempting no profound discussion of strategy or military policy, they seek only
to portray interior views of tent life, common homely
experiences, the every-day personal incidents of camp
and battle-field, with such explanations and details as
may instruct the uninitiated as to the ordinary camp
life of the American volunteer. 
14   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
A few battle-pictures must, of course, find place in
our sketch-book, but they will aim at no general delineation, being necessarily limited and partial, seeking to be accurate, however, as far as they go. Indeed, no absolutely veritable description of the varied
movements over an extensive battle-field can ever be
expected; ten artistic word-painters will surely give
us ten very different pictures, agreeing in generals, but
dissimilar in details. Let a man consult the field officers of even a single regiment as to its operations in a
single fight, and from the incongruities in their several statements he will be able to judge of the difficulty in painting on canvas or with the pen a true battlepicture.  Of course, every narrator makes himself the
central pivotal point around which the whole battlescenery revolves, and this not egotistically, but naturally and necessarily. And just in proportion to the
fidelity with which he gives us the facts as seen from
his personal stand-point, drawing neither from his imagination nor the official reports, shall we have a small
but veritable bit of actual history.
Leaving, then, all general descriptions of battlescenes to the able and well-trained corps of army correspondents, and to the historian who shall be able
hereafter to collate and compare the testimony, subjecting it to the dry light of an impartial criticism, I
seek to record simply my own personal experiences
and observations. A genre picture, not a grand historic tableau, is thus attempted, something after the
style of Hogarth's every-day sketches, with no pretensions to the bolder, more comprehensive delineations
of the historic school; and, though it is probably true'
that, during the heat of a campaign, the reader of a 
INTRODUCTORY.
daily newspaper is informed as to the general design
and operations before most of those actually engaged,
still a staff officer has some advantages in this regard,
while, as to matters of detail, he alone can speak familiarly who is an actual participant. Moreover, the every-day experiences of one brigade or one division
run so nearly parallel with those of every other brigade or division in the whole army, that our sketch
must contain many features common to all-will, at
all events, serve as one of the scraps of narrative fromi..
which history shall gradually be evolved.
Such a sketch will, of course, have its dark shades
of sadness mingled with the bright colorings'ofSoy,
its defeats as well as its victories, its dispiriting'ie;-..
treats as well as its jubilant advances, its awful visions
of the battle-field strewn with the unburied dead as
well as its cheerful evenings around the camp-fire. A
campaign is, in fact, an epitome of ordinary life minus 
the refining, elevating, and Christianizing influence of
our women and little children; of ordinary life unnaturally excited and exaggerated, with its usual experiences so overstrained, and following upon each other
in such rapid succession as to carry us sometimes in a
single day through the whole gamut of sensations, and
give to a week the significance of months. So it happens that, in looking over my little diary, I have not
yet been able to realize that the scenes herein described were all compressed within so brief a period.
Years, long years they seem to me to have occupied;
and, if time be measured not so much by the mere pul sations of the bodily machine as by our inner sensa tions and experiences, years they certainly were.
15 
16    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER II.
OFF FOR THE WARS.
M'DOWELL is marshaling his cohorts at Fred      ericksburg, being ordered to aid the peninsular
approaches of M'Clellan by moving upon Richmond,
and to-day, May 22d, 1862, our brigade, having been
detached from the army defending Washington, is off
to join him. Never was summons more welcome.
Tired of serving the country under the shadow of the
Capitol, with all the glow of untried enthusiasm and
all the ignorance of novices in war, our staff had really begun to fear lest the fighting would all be over before we could draw our maiden swords.  Hope paints
few brighter visions than those which on this day of
embarkation made us happy; and now, as we gallop
down to the wharf, every cheek burns with pleasant
anticipation. As I gaze through the vista of our actual experiences at that hour of hope and anticipated
victory, this day seems to me like a dream.
To get our horses safely on board the steamer is no
easy task, for wharf and deck are lumbered up with
all the paraphernalia of a campaign, and squads of
heavily-knapsacked men are still hurrying on board,
all jubilant and some quite intoxicated with patriotism and poor whisky. Among our troops all ages
are represented; here a beardless boy, his brow yet
warm with the parental blessing, and next him, perhaps, a gray-haired man, for whom a comfortable home
iL 
OFF FOR THE WARS.
and a warm chimney-corner seem far more fitting than
the long march and bivouac of the campaign. But
these are the days when the popular enthusiasm is still
at high tide, submerging town and country, city and
hamlet, and inciting young and old, sick and poor, to
rally around the old flag. If there is any homesickness beneath these blue uniforms, it can not long resist
the influx of the general enthusiasm  it is soon fused
and lost in the general hopefulness and joy.  "On to
Richmond!" is the watchword. You may read it in
every eye about you.
As we stand a while on the upper deck, cast your
eye at the stalwart private near us, that you may know
how a soldier looks in full war rig. The square knapsack on his back is crowned with a great roll of blankets, and contains his entire wardrobe —a change of
clothes, a few toilet articles, probably a little Bible,
and certainly a keepsake or two from the loved ones
at home; his cartridge-box, strapped beneath, holds
only a few rounds of ball cartridge: as no battle is
impending, his shoulders are festooned with his shelter-tent, an oblong piece of thick cotton cloth compressed into a roll; his haversack is stuffed with three
days' marching rations; his water canteen dangles at
the other side, while his musket is stacked with the
rest in the centre of the deck.  Thus he carries his
food, and drink, and clothing, and canvas house, and
weapon with him; may be said, indeed, to be quite
independent of society. Musket and all, his equipment weighs sixty pounds, and with it he can safely
march from fifteen to twenty miles per day.
But the sergeants have picked up the last straggler 
and marched him on board, the last horse is disposed
17 
18    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
of, and we are finally off. Taking in tow several
transports crowded with men, horses, and government
stores, gradually we gather way, cheer after cheer
rings out from the crowded wharf, responded to lustily by our upper deck, the band strikes up " Dixie,"
and so we say farewell to Washington, and glide slowly down the river. In less than thirty days we expect to be in Richmond, and fighting is as yet a myth
we can not fully realize; we are simply embarked
on a military pleasure excursion. The day is very
charming, and the beautiful Potomac seems disposed
to tender us a most hearty and pleasant welcome.
Within the cabin, sacred to the general and his staff,
a quieter yet not less hopeful mood prevails. Our
general, a man of many battles, who fired the first
Union gun from Fort Sumter, and whose name and
fame have already become historic, smiled a little at
our untried enthusiasm.  Near him sits our staff " major," the vade mecum of the party, a thorough martinet, and able to instruct us on any point, from the
minutest question of drill to the latest decision on the
"Army Regulations;" and our adjutant general, who
considers the putting down this rebellion a part of his
religion; and our two aids, one of whom has since finished his last earthly campaign.  We shall know and
love them all better by-and-by, when we have walked with them through the dark lanes of death, brave,
manly fellows as they are, every one of whom has left
a home well worth fighting for, and anxious hearts
which shall hereafter throb at every telegraphic whisper of battle. Ah! it is the mothers and wives, the
sisters and lovers who are the worst sufferers in this
war.  To man, the glow and excitement of action, the 
OFF FOR THE WARS.
fascinations of campaign adventure, the reserve force
of hope and courage which comes to inspire and elevate him in the hour of actual peril, the stern joy
which thrills him when he remembers the holy cause
to which he devotes himself. To woman, the hope deferred-the waiting, waiting for news after every battle-the fearful pictures of her own excited imagination-the doubt, suspense, and agony of anticipation
when the air is full of rumor, and every newspaper
has its long black list of death.
Our little village of vessels is now passing Alexandria, every foot of whose streets was so familiar to my
boyhood, and not long after we glide past Mount Vernon, and the men crowd the rigging to catch their first
look at the tomb of Washington.  For  one, Ifeel no
touch of self-reproach as I gaze upon this Mecca of
American patriotism.  Only in defense of his princi.
ples-only to keep Mount Vernon under the old flag
-only to save the Union he so much loved, are we
come to tread with arms in our hands the soil of his
native Virginia.  The bones of the patriot soldier
would rest all too uneasily upon the bloody borderland of two rival peoples-'the spirit of the whole-souled philanthropist could not repose in peace under the
star-bereft banner of a confederacy having for its corner-stone that system of slavery he so much deprecated and regretted. Crusaders are we, rather, crusaders
of the 19th century, come not to invade, but to rescue
his sepulchre, and pledged to retain it forever under
the agis of that nationality for whose establishment
he fought, sacrificed, and prayed.
And now the night comes quietly down upon us;
our tired boys spread their blankets in every part of
19 
20    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the crowded vessels, and, with their knapsacks for pillows, are soon asleep. Already they have learned the
first rule for a campaign-never to lose an opportunity to eat or to sleep, so as to be ever ready for any
emergency. The regimental field officers join us in an
impromptu supper in the cabin; the general wraps
himself in his cloak upon a settee. Some of us, however, too full of busy thought and anticipation, mount
to the upper deck to keep pleasant watch with the
stars.
It was nearly midnight when we reached Aquia
Creek and prepared to disembark. Here was confusion worse confounded. The unfinished pier swarmed with soldiers and contrabands working by the light
of lanterns, discharging government transports of all
sorts of stores, from a horseshoe to a locomotive, and
it took at least an hour to get our men and wagons
ashore. We then followed a lantern up the half-built
wharf, where our orderlies found ample stable-room
for the horses out in the open air. The troops marched off to a hill-side near by, stacked arms, posted sentinels, spread their India - rubber blankets, and bivouacked comfortably under the stars.
The hospitable colonel commanding the post relinquished to the general his camp-bed, while three or
four of us, stretched on the floor, or curled up in boxes all too short for even the shortest of us, attempted
sleep in the little bedroom. It was on this occasion
that I first contracted a prejudice against having a bedfellow in boots and spurs-a prejudice which, even to
this day, I have been unable wholly to conquer.
Our captain adjutant rolled himself in his blankets
on a pile of bricks outside, a couch hard, but lofty; 
OFF FOR THE WARS.
our junior aid crept under a tent-fly; soon all were
asleep, though my own rest was broken and unsatisfactory. After-experience taught us that, on a pleasant night, you can have no better sleeping-place than
six feet by two of green turf. As it was, I fancy few
were sorry to quit their downy couch when the sun
first greeted us next morning.  An "intelligent contraband" brought us a good supply of water; other
toilet necessaries were in our saddle-bags; and, while
the general enjoyed a private cup of coffee with the
colonel,' we sallied forth in search of breakfast.
Aquia may be called the Phcenix-town of America,
springing up every now and then, to be burned down
again whenever our army changes its base, so that it
is hardly to be wondered at that Delmonico had not
yet established himself. Indeed, the little collection
of rough-board shanties and tents, thrown up in a day,
crowded with soldiers, and clamorous with the usual
bustle of the quarter-master's department, offered so
few gastronomic advantages that we were just about
to despair, when a current of blue uniforms, every man
with a handful of pie and cheese, indicated a sutler's
tent. Entering by the rear, we were soon sitting round
a barrel-head table, feasting on coffee, cakes, and cheese
with infinite gusto and merriment.
Our sumptuous repast ended, we walked down the
pier, where we met the President and Secretary of
War, who had just arrived, and soon after entered a
state railway carriage, consisting of a rough freight
car with a bench and two stools, beautifully decorated
for this occasion with a small American flag. I had
seen the President rising in a private box to acknowledge his enthusiastic reception at the Ac.demy of
21 
22    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
Music, but was glad to get a nearer view of our highly-respected chief magistrate. How it would have
made the nerves of some German duke, with sixteen
quarterings, and a domain of a few miles square, tingle
with disdain, this state car, which bore on to Falmouth
the ruler of twenty millions!  Vive: la Democratie!
Aquia Creek is the Potomac terminus of the railroad running to Richmond via Fredericksburg, and
this morning we were to take the latter city on our
way to the rebel capital. A staff officer was sent with
orders to the troops to march at once, while the general and staff rode on without awaiting the tardy movement of the column.  A pleasant ride it was on that
lovely morning, through a picturesque, well-wooded,
scantily-settled country-a silent sleepy region, but little vexed with Yankee enterprise or modern agricultural improvements, its roads-romantic forest-paths
instead of wide, well-worn prosaic turnpikes-archedcl
with foliage and vocal with the music of birds. Every
one was in his happiest mood, glad that our projected
trip to Richmond commenced under such pleasant auspices.
A gallop of a dozen miles or more, passing very few
habitations or cultivated fields, fording two considerable creeks and several "runs," brought us among the
canvas cities, long avenues of wagons, and parks of
artillery of our army. White-walled villages crowned
the hill-sides, with their streets thronged with soldiers;
here were acres of horses, cannon, army-wagons; regiments were drawn up on every hand for drill; the
road was crowded with mounted officers, orderlies hurrying with their dispatches, and squadrons of cavalry.
going to or returning from the outer pickets. On our 
OFF FOR THE WARS.
right we passed Shields's Division, and gazed with
special interest at these veterans of six months' service, who had actually smelt powder and been in battle. Standing around their camp-fires making coffee,
cleansing their weapons and accoutrements, or.fitting
up their shelter-tents with walls of cedar boughs, they
seemed to us unfledged tyros warriors worthy of our
special homage.
Stopping occasionally at the head-quarter tents of
some general officer, we reached at last the Lacy mansion, a lovely residence on the banks of the Rappahannock, opposite Fredericksburg, then occupied by General M'Dowell as his head-quarters.  Its green lawn
was sprinkled all over with the tents of his staff; its
out-buildings were appropriated as offices; sentries
paced up and down its once quiet walks; its main approaches were full of horses gay with staff-trappings,
and held by mounted orderlies; while the front entrance and hall were crowded with generals and the
officers of their respective staffs.
The President and Secretary of War were also here,
and the commanding general had assembled all his
brigadiers to meet them. It was to me very interesting to see these leaders, some of whom were already
famous, as they gathered in groups in the hall and
grounds. Every face was full of hopeful anticipation;
the President dispensed every where his dry hits of
good logical common sense, wrapped up in the humorous coating of anecdote or illustration, and not a suspicion of the impending disappointment intruded itself; nor had I then a conception how much of envy
and professional jealousy found lodgment beneath 
some of these uniforms. Artists, authors, and clergy
23 
I
24    THE BIVOUAC AD THE BATTLE-FIELD.
men have perhaps been considered most liable to this
weakness of jealousy, but, in this regard, professional
soldiers may, as a class, be deemed their rivals; and I
have sometimes really felt that this jealousy has had
more to do with our past reverses than is generally
imagined.
But, on this occasion, no shadow of this sort darkened the horizon of our expectations; every thing was
tinged with the roseate hue of patriotic hope. We
were certainly going to Richmond, and these soldierly-looking men about me were just the men to lead
us on.  I liked M'Dowell's looks; he seemed to me
strong, self-contained, ready for responsibility, and able
to sustain it. I had yet to learn how much his too
frequent forgetfulness of the courtesy due even to a
common soldier was to impair his usefulness and injure his popularity.
Here also was Bayard, looking really worthy of his
name, young, enthusiastic, full of fire and energy.
Near this spot he won his general's star, and yonder,
over the river, only a mile or two away, he is hereafter to rise with it into imfmortality.
Imagine our chagrin when our general, having finished his interview, came out into the hall to inform
us that our brigade, being the last arrival, was to be
left behind to guard Fredericksburg. This was disappointment number one; we soon stopped numbering
such experiences, for they are the every-day occurrences of a campaign. Whenever you get your tent
fixed with unusual comfort, be sure you will march on
the morrow; if you are halted for a day, make up
your mind for a week's stay, and the probabilities are
that you will not be disappointed. 
OFF FOR THIE WARS.
So we mounted and followed the general down the
steep road leading to the river and across the pontoon
bridge into Fredericksburg, a quiet, pretty town, well
entitled to the epithet said to have been given to it by
the Prince of Wales - "the only finished town in
America."  Not commerce or manufactures, but good
wholesome comfort had evidently reigned here supreme. Of course it was very different now. The
constant rumble of heavy army wagons disturbed the
sleepy streets; patrols of cavalry and infantry went
their rounds; sentries stood guard at the street corners; soldiers invaded the shops and sidewalks; army
sutlers flaunted the stars and stripes from the store
windows; and in the old bank we found the headquarters of the military governor.
B
25
t — 
26    THE BIVOUAC AND TIlE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER III.
FREDERICKSBURG.
E were to be quartered for the present in the
city, and, at the recommendation of the military governor, took possession of the house of an absent
rebel officer. The usual ceremonial of lease-signing
and delivering of the door-key was dispensed with, a
sentry soon paced to and fro in front, and we began
to make ourselves quite at home.  A roomy, old-fashioned mansion it was, once doubtless the abode of a
genial hospitality. How it must have disturbed the
now slumbering household gods, this unceremonious
intrusion without even a "by your leave."
The contrabands in the kitchen gave us hearty welcome, however, making us at once free of the house,
while Nannette, the housemaid, a kind, motherly creature, in whom we gradually became much interested,
could not do too much for us. But our involuntary
host, probably not aware of our intended visit, had forgotten to refurnish his depleted larder, so that the provision department was decidedly wanting. As our
wagons had not yet come up, a general reconnoissance
among the sutlers was at once ordered. Corned meats,
coffee, and hard bread were the net proceeds of this
reconnoissance, and I doubt whether our host's mahogany was ever surrounded with.a merrier party
than that which gathered,at last to banquet on thse
luxuries. 
FREDERICKSBURG.
Supper over, we sat a while on the front stoop. It
was evident that the whole neighborhood was excited
at this profanation of a rebel mansion by the miserable Yankees. A girls' boarding-school occupied the
next house, and from its corresponding front stoop
came ever and anon whole volleys of indignant looks
and contemptuous gestures. Little caucuses of angry
dames convened upon the sidewalk, and, as we sat enjoying the peaceful sunset, it was manifest that no
very complimentary allusions to ourselves kept flowing the tide of talk. But as no masculine joined in
this attack, our young aids wore their best looks, and
smiled blandly upon the fair daughters of Secessia,
while the rest of us, who had wives at home, enjoyed
heartily this little dash of rebel pepper, as giving pungency to our experiences. By-and-by the little squads
dispersed without our reading the riot act, our headquarter wagons came up, and the different chambers
were soon occupied. Wrapped in our blankets, we
slept the sleep of tired men, thankful that our absent
host had not borne off all his beds also on his shoulders.
The next morning, Saturday, I had occasion to ride
out very early over the river, and returned with ap petite keen-edged to find our party seated around the
breakfast table.  With hungry eyes I looked eagerly
to see on what dainties I was about to break my fast.
A  solitary dish of hard crackers in the centre, tin
plates, knives and forks, and mugs for each person,
and verily nothing more. What a laugh rolled up ward at the look of blank dismay which overspread
i my countenance. But Patrick, our cook, with Nannette as his first lieutenant, was not wanting even in
27 
28   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
this emergency. He could not be called an artist-his
specialty was perhaps fried salt pork and the likebut very welcome was his appearance as he brought
in something temptingly labeled "boned turkey," sardines, and similar luxuries, served in their native tin,
the which, with a good cup of commissariat coffee,
helped out a quite tolerable meal. The major, our
present caterer, was indeed quite exercised during
these days, so thoroughly denuded of articles of food
was the surrounding country; but what with "good
old eggs,'" introduced occasionally by way of luxury,
and the help of the commissariat, managed to rub
along with no more than the usual amount of grumbling, which falls as a matter of right upon the devoted head of every caterer of a staff. mess.
After breakfast, in company with a friend, I had a
new experience of life in rebeldom. Desiring a storehouse for government use, I called on the mayor of
the city, stating my want, and asking him to name a
warehouse which could be taken with the least inconvenience to its owner. Hie was bland, courteous, but
declined to interfere. Thus left to my own resources,
I called at a store on the principal street, whose halfclosed shutters indicated the rebel sympathies of its
occupant. The scene that occurred was quite amusing and suggestive.
Entering, I accosted the proprietor very politely
thus: "Can you tell me, sir, where I can procure a
store for government use?"
Responded the storekeeper, very curtly, and with a
most disdainful glance at my uniform, "No; I don't
believe any man in this city would lease a store to
your government." 
FREDERICKSBURG.
To which I, still politely, "Oh! you misunderstand
me; I haven't the slightest idea of hiring a store, but
only of taking one. By-the-by" (addressing my companion, and taking a survey of the premises), "I think
this store will answer our purpose very well, don't
you?"
Storekeeper, at once becoming gentlemanly: "Oh,
you want a warehouse, sir! Well, there are some
empty ones on Commerce Street, which I am sure will
suit you.  Shall I show you the way?"
And so the conference ended. I have never seen
a more rapid transition from disdain to decency in my
life.
As we walked through the streets of Fredericksburg it was evident that we were among foes. The
negroes were full of welcome, greeting us with a
smiling courtesy which needed no interpreter, but the
ladies turned away their faces as we passed, or manifested their hostility in ways even more demonstrative.
I confess that this sort of treatment, while it did not
hurt my feelings, always astonished me. Somehow
I had never been able to get up a feeling of hatred
against the Southerner, even after the attack on Sumter-pitying him rather as the worst victim of an accursed system which surrounds his cradle, and is the
companion of his childhood, whose divine origin and
sanctions are impressed upon him from the pulpit, and
taught him at the school, entering unquestioned into
all the ramifications of his social life. His present
suicidal madness had seemed to me only a part of the
disease. It was not, then, with any desire for revenge,
but solely to restrain him from blindly involving
North and South in one common ruin, we had come
29 
30    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
hither; and it was thus impossible for me to look
upon these citizens of Fredericksburg as my enemies,
but rather as my countrymen, to come back by-and-by,
when their insanity was over, to the old fraternal relationship, perhaps forever disenthralled from that
system which was the cause of their present madness.
But our Southern friends did not seem to look at
it exactly in this light, and so we had to make the
best of it. If a flag floated over the sidewalk, the fair
dame would sweep out into the middle of the muddy
street; if a pleasant face at an open window attracted
us as we walked by, what a slamming to of windowblinds was there, my countrymen! The men were,
however, more prudent, and treated us usually with
sufficient courtesy.
A little imp carved out of ebony had somehow
joined our staff within the last day or two. He rejoiced in the name of" Zion," and acted as boot-blackin-chief with the rank of contraband. Grotesque in
appearance, wonderfully endowed with dirt and rags,
his bright, cheerful face and funny ways interested us.
The major resolved to extricate him from his coating
of mud, clothe him, and educate him as waiter; so
they proceeded together to the "famous mart of
Moses" in Fredericksburg for the necessary wearing
apparel. Entering the shop, the major said, "Now,
Zion, take off your coat."
"Whaf-whaf-for, Massa Major?" said the boy,
imploringly, at the same time backing toward the
door and making evident preparations for flight.
It took some time to persuade him that he was to
have a new jacket and not the usual whipping; but
finally he consented to disrobe. Buttons there were 
FREDERICKSBURG.
none; the various rags were tied on somehow, and had
to be cut off with a knife. In the evening, what with
copious lavations and his new suit, Zion seemed a
different creature. We began to think of him as a
permanent fixture; but that night he left us new
clothes and all, forever. Such is life!
Sunday, May 25th. This morning a reconnoissance
in force was ordered, and our general and staff rode
out to the front, though our own men, now comfortably quartered in houses near the railway station,
were not to participate. The object of a reconnoissance is to discover the enemy's whereabouts, drive in
his pickets, feel his strength, and determine his exact
position, without bringing on a general engagement.
To this end, cavalry are usually sent out, followed by
infantry, and frequently artillery, as supports. It is
like fox-hunting, with an additional zest in the fact
that the foxes in this case are two-legged, and carry
rifles.
On this beautiful Sunday morning, then, several
regiments moved out of Fredericksburg by two roads
to meet at their point of intersection. The cavalry
came first, filling the road, and also stretching out
over the fields on either side, every man carrying his
carbine at full cock, ready on the instant to meet a
concealed foe or beat up an ambuscade. We rode
out to our outer pickets, and there halted a while to
see the troops go by, and soon a squadron of the
Harris Light Cavalry came up at a swinging trot.
Officers and men seemed highly exhilarated at the
rebel hunt before them, and two of our staff obtained
permission to accompany the party. The infantry
were not far behind, and as the enemy had made
31 
32   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
some demonstrations in this neighborhood very lately,
a lively time was anticipated. But the reconnoissance
proved successful, chiefly in ascertaining that the enemy had within a day or two retreated from the immediate vicinity.
Wishing the officers of the expedition good speed,
we paused on our way home to call upon some Union
ladies occupying farms near by.  Their story was indeed a sad one. Their husbands had been dragged
off to Richmond prison, not for any act or word of opposition to the rebel government, but simply for declining to take the Southern oath of allegiance. The
poor women cried bitterly as they spoke of their dreadful anxiety for the prisoners, their lonely condition,
living as they had been rightbetween the picket lines
of the two armies.  Behind their hedges had crouched
day and night the rebel marksmen, ready to pick off
any exposed Union soldier, and they went to bed every night in fear and trembling. Now, in truth, as
we heard of their sufferings, did we begin to appreciate the horrors of this rebellion.
A rapid ride home gave me time to attend the Episcopal church, which I found well filled with a congregation of whom one half, perhaps, were soldiers. The
rector was bitterly Secesh, but his prayer for "our
brothers and sons exposed to the dangers of battle"
had no allusion forbidding the sympathy of the most
loyal soul. I saw nothing in the manners of the congregation or in the preacher to disturb the morning
worship, and was glad to find one place at least where
friend and foe might meet in seeming harmony.
]For the last twenty-four hours the air has been fulls
of rumors of the raid of Stonewall Jackson, threaten 
FREDERICKSBURG.
ing Washington, and necessitating the withdrawal of
our forces from their proposed expedition toward
Richmond in order to defend the national capital.
Some of the brigades which had commenced their
southern march had been halted; Shields's division
had already started back toward Catlett's Station, and
before night it was evident that the whole movement
was for the present abandoned. This was disappointment number two, even to us who were not to accompany it, while the officers of the expedition regretted
it exceedingly.  Late at night I rode over to headquarters, and had an interview with General M'Dowell. It was evident that the giving up of this movement caused him great pain. I remember being particularly struck with his accurate knowledge of the
exact position of the different regiments of his command, no easy matter in an army of 40,000 or 50,000
men.
B2
33 
34    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER IV.
CAMP OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG.
ONDAY, May 26th. This morning we were or   dered to go into camp on the Falmouth side of
the river. Before leaving Fredericksburg we rode
through the city, and found the people in a state of
intense excitement. The various and contradictory
rumors, the marching and countermarching of our
troops through the streets this past forty-eight hours,
seemed inexplicable, and we were asked by several
panic-stricken women, who came to their doors as we
rode slowly along, if we were really going to shell the
town.  It was with a good deal of regret I bade farewell to this pretty city, for it was pleasant to walk
through its streets, despite the rebel sympathy every
where apparent, and it was more agreeable to see even
the back of a woman's bonnet than no woman at all.
Our brigade was now assigned to guard the railroad
from Aquia Creek to Falmouth. The regiments went
into camp by companies at regular intervals in the
woods flanking the road, sending out daily details of
guards to walk post along the track, with little guardhouses, part tent, part log house, for their protection.
Block-houses were at once commenced at either end
of the two principal railroad bridges; the mien built
comfortable tents, and in less than a week were quite
at home, some of the officers sending for their wives
and children. 
Our own head-quarters were fixed at the Wallace 
CAMP OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG.
House, the residence of a lawyer who had two sons in
the rebel army, and sympathized fully with the rebel
cause. A native-born Virginian, he was, strange to say,
about the best living illustration I ever met with of the
ideal Yankee, in appearance, manner, dress, stick and
jack-knife, though his conversational tone of course
partook of the usual lingua Africana of the South.
We remained at his house two or three weeks, and I
learned to respect him not only for the philosophy
with which he bore the intrusion of his enemies, and
his evident sincerity in a bad cause, but for his general intelligence and kindly courtesy. During our frequent conversations we discussed the war, its causes
and prospects, with no loss of temper, and withal so
frankly, that he said to me one day, after our return
from a dress parade, "Your soldiers are the finest-looking as a body I ever saw-much larger and heavier
than ours, and far better clothed. Our poor boys only
had ragged uniforms on when they were here." iHe
was not a man to carry water on both shoulders, for
he distinctly stated that if the government should insist upon his taking the federal oath, on peril of having all his property confiscated, he should certainly let
his property go.  For months he had not heard from
his sons; his slaves had all fled toward the north
star; his fields had been taken for camping-grounds;
his fences and hedges cut down; his best rooms occupied by Union officers, while the flag against which
he had sent his children to fight floated in front of his
house. I could not help feeling a good deal of sympathy with him as I saw him wandering round his
fields and out-houses with the inevitable stick in his
hand, the picture of semi-despair.
35
.1 
36    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
With our army cots and blankets (sheets are not
fashionable in the army), we made pleasant quarters in
the various chambers. Nannette, the old housemaid
at our Fredericksburg mansion, had insisted upon
coming over with us, and now officiated in the kitchen, supplying, with the help of Patrick, comfortable
meals, served up on a table-service of tin. There was
always abundance of ham or bacon as a piece de resistance, with entrees of fried pork, hard bread, and
other delicacies of the commissariat; and when the
rare luxuries of fresh beef, milk, butter, chickens, or
" store bread" did surprise us, they were all the more
welcome.
Perhaps this will be the best opportunity to give
some idea of the organization of the army. As at
present constituted, a brigade is made up of four or
five regiments; three or four brigades compose a division; three or four divisions constitute a corps.
There are some twenty or more of these corps in the
Union army, seven of them, for example, constituting,
at the date of this writing, the Army of the Potomac.
Much of the routine work of the army goes no farther
than corps head-quarters, but all matters of general
importance pass under the revision of the head-quarters of the army. The old incubus of right, left, and
centre grand divisions has been happily abolished.
During this stay at Falmouth, ours was an independent brigade, unattached to a division, and specially assigned to the defense of Aquia Creek and the
railroad. A brigadier general is entitled to the following staff:
1. An assistant adjutant general, who transacts the
usual office business, and superintends the purely mil 
CAMP OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG.
itary department.  He issues orders in the name of
the general; to him are addressed all communications
from officers inferior in rank to the general; he is, in
fact, prime minister, and has a very agreeable position.
2. An assistant quarter-master, who has charge of
the transportation, tents and tent-equipage, clothing,
tools, and fixtures generally.  His is, perhaps, the
most arduous and difficult position in the army.
3. A commissary of subsistence, who draws from
the various dep6ts of supply the necessary food for the
troops, and distributes it to the regimental quartermasters, who in turn distribute it among the companies. This department is so admirably organized and
conducted that the position is considered a very pleasant one.
Each of these three staff officers ranks as captain,
has a clerk and other subordinates, his own duties being chiefly supervisory. The assistant adjutant general always attends the general; the assistant quartermaster and commissary of subsistence are also permitted, when their official duties do not forbid it, to act as
aids on the battle-field.
4. Two aids, who assist the adjutant general in the
various duties of his office, carry orders on the field of
battle, and are the only officers, under the new regulations, who are personally attached to the general, following him when he quits his brigadier division for
another. Their rank is that of first lieutenant.
Our "major" was an artillery officer, attached temporarily to the staff as ordnance officer and acting aid.
We had also a brigade surgeon, but the latter rank
has since been abolished.
At brigade head-quarters is also a brigade guard,
37 
38    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
under command of a subaltern: four mounted orderlies, the bearers of dispatches and part of the retinue
of the general, and two or more foot orderlies for the
convenience of the general and staff. Of course, as
the command rises in dignity from brigade to division,
from division to corps, the staff, with its adjutants, increases greatly in number and importance, until the
head-quarters of the army becomes in itself a little
city of tents; the head-quarter guard is composed of a
regiment or two; the four mounted orderlies swell
into two regiments of cavalry.
We were learning that to wait is one of the chief
duties of the soldier, and really it is the most irksome,
as a calm at sea is much more wearisome than a storm.
Pleasant rides all about us; a quiet trot through the
streets of Fredericksburg; a visit to the camps about
the time of the evening dress-parade, lent variety to
our usual duties; still this was not the campaign life
we had anticipated. During this period various bodies of troops were constantly coming and going; wo
to the grove or plantation near which their new camps
were located. Hardly did a regiment stack arms be'
fore the trees began to come in bodily, the fences disappeared, and in an hour or two what had been a bare
common was covered with huts wattled with evergreens and roofed with shelter-tents.  These rustic
dens were about seven feet by six, accommodating two
soldiers; they were arranged in regular streets, with
the officers' tents in the rear, sometimes shaded with
rootless trees. It quite astonished me at first to see
how quickly the old campaigners made themselves
comfortable. Grotesque ideas of discipline, too, and.
of the law of confiscation, they had, these independent 
CAMP OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG.
volunteers. I have seen commissioned, non-commissioned officers, and privates playing cards together, or
hobnobbing around the same camp-fire. One colonel,
who drilled his men near our house, though not of our
brigade, was in the habit of arguing with his men as
to their drill and duties, and evidently leaned a good
deal upon their opinion-his parade being thus rather
a town-meeting in uniform. Such a man is of course
unfit to lead troops into battle, for they will probably
obey him if they feel like it, but not otherwise.
As to the popularity of the confiscation law, and the
readiness of the men to execute it, there could be no
doubt. Two men, for example, were cooking a fat
fowl at their camp-fire, when a: corporal sniffed the unaccustomed odor, and thus accosted them:
"Hallo, boys! where did you get that chicken?"
"Oh, we confiscated him for talking treason."
"Talking treason! what do you mean?  Chi]kens
can't talk."
" No, but they can crow; and, as sure as you live,
we caught this rooster, this very afternoon, crowing
with all his might for Jeff. Davis."
Of course, the corporal had to be satisfied, and passed on.
During these waiting days, however, we had frequent rumors, just sufficient to keep us on the qui vive.
By the way, there is no community on earth so frequently the sport of rumor wild and strange as a camp
in the enemy's country.  Woman has sometimes been
ungallantly considered swift-flying Fame's chosen messenger. She can claim that position no longer. For
stories the wildest, strangest, most unbelievable, of the
approach of the enemy, a coming move, etc., commend
39 
40    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
me to an encampment of soldiers with little to do.
Stonewall was certainly about to pay his respects to
us at least half a dozen times during the past ten days.
At length, on Friday, May 30th, orders came to have
twenty-four hours' cooked rations, and be ready to
march at a moment's notice. Of course, the novice
saw a fight impending immediately, and that night I
packed every thing packable, put a lunch into my saddle-bags, and had sword and pistols at my bedside,
ready to be buckled on in an instant. All this we
soon got bravely over, learning by experience to receive an order to " be ready to march at a moment's
notice" with entire equanimity. The morning came,
and we had not moved, and so we once more fell back
into our old monotony.
Jo 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
CHAPTER V.
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
UESDAY, June 10th. This day M'Call's division
departed to join M'Clellan on the Peninsula, and
our general, being left temporarily in command of
Fredericksburg and the adjacent district, made his
head-quarters at the Phillips House. A fine residence
it was, overlooking the valley of the Rappahannock
and the pretty city, with the Blue Ridge bounding
the western horizon, and treating us occasionally to a
sunset of wonderful beauty. The plantation once
formed a part of the estate of Mary, the mother of
Washington, whose half-finished monument, just back
of Fredericksburg, was visible from its balcony. It
must have been a charming spot ere War, with its desolating footfall, had invaded this lovely valley; but
now fences, trees, and waving grain had departed; the
owner had deserted, leaving only an overseer with an
immense wife and two babies, whose capacity for crying was equally extensive, with a superannuated negro or two in the outbuildings, too old to accompany
their fellows on the Northern tour.  If we were condemned to temporary inactivity, we could not have
had a more delightful spot for our involuntary sojourn.
The 76th New York was sent over to occupy the
city, and its major was made military governor. HIis
first day was signalized by the important capture of
41
I-MI-,, —,
.1
11 
42    THE BIVOUAC AND THlE BATTLE-FIELD.
AMajor Lacy, of General Smith's staff, the wealthy owner of the "Lacy mansion," who had ventured a little
too near our pickets. This capture created a profound sensation in Fredericksburg, as he was perhaps
the most influential man in the county, and had labored night and day to bring about the secession of
Virginia. While incarcerated in the guard-house, I
made him a visit, and found him courteous and gentlemanly. On my noticing a book he held in his
hand, "Yes," he replied, "I am trying to read in order to drown reflection." It struck me at the time
that, as one of the instigators of a rebellion which had
already brought such wo and ruin upon his native
state, he would have to try some stronger spell than
this; the ghost of sad reflection would hardly down
at so feeble a bidding. But I know of no article of
war forbidding courtesy to foes, especially when in
prison; and I could not help expressing the hope, as
I left the major, that we might meet again under more
pleasant circumstances. HIe was sent North in a day
or two, and has been, I presume, duly exchanged.
My friend the military governor had a busy time
of it, and, being a gallant man, rather an unpleasant
one. Innocent-looking females were arrested with
large packages of rebel letters about their persons;
bright-eyed demoiselles, with family trunks reminding one of Noah's ark by their size and antiquity,
were found to be bearing southward medicines enough
to stock a village apothecary instead of laces and other feminine gear. If a good lady awoke some fine
morning to find that some of her two-legged property
had started during the night for Washington, or tha*
a horse had vanished from her stable, straightway she 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
called upon the major, ordering him at once to return
the missing article with an air which half implied that
he himself had stolen it. Never, however, was the city
better governed-no trespasses by the soldiers were
permitted; law and order reigned supreme. Squads
of contrabands wandered in from the country daily,
besieging his office for passes northward; and it was
touching to see how the poor creatures, blind to the
blessings of the patriarchal institution, rejoiced at the
receipt of the magic bit of paper which insured their
escape from bondage. Their joy seemed to overflow
their whole being, and bubbled up in wild exclamation and grotesque grimace.
We had quite a number of these newly-freed men
about our head-quarters, in the employ of government
as teamsters, blacksmith, etc. A patient, docile race,
eminently trustworthy, with mental faculties quite undeveloped, it always seemed wonderful to me that they
succeeded so well in their new experiment of freedom.
It may take a generation to develop their best qualities of self-support; but even now they very readily
fell into the performance of their respective duties. I
have witnessed their exultation when, for the first time
in their lives, they received honest pay for their honest labor, and am satisfied that this is impulse sufficient
with them, as with us, to induce their best efforts. I
have seen them painfully spelling out their lettersgreat six-foot men even, struggling over the difficulties
of a child's primer, and am convinced of their capacity and desire for education. I have employed them
personally and for the government, and feel that they
are honest and faithful, anxious to be instructed what
to do, quick in learning, and energetic in doing it.
43 
44    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
To those who are troubling themselves so much with
the question " What shall we do with them?" mny answer is, Let them very much alone, and they will do
for themselves. As society is at present constituted,
we need a class who shall be " hewers of wood and
drawers of water;" we require, North as well as South,
all this labor; to expatriate it would be a substantial
loss to the whole country. With proper guarantees
that they shall enjoy what they honestly earn, they
will soon be able to take abundant care of themselves.
If exiled from free territory, or forbidden the opportunity to work, they must, of course, become a public
burden; but if free market be allowed for their labor,
the demand will fully equal the supply, and the question in ten years will be, "How can we do without
them?" As to their fighting value, I, of course, know
nothing; but this interesting question seems to be
rapidly approaching a practical solution.
Our quarter-master, a wag in his way, had discovered somewhere a bright-eyed boy whom he made his
servant, initiating him by the following affirmation:
"You, Pompey, solemnly declare that you will support the Constitution of the United States, look out for
my horses, and black boots to the best of your knowledge and belief; so help you, General M'Dowell."
The boy was naturally much impressed with the ceremony, kissed a copy of the "Army Regulations,"
and faithfully kept his pledge.
We should expect such a people to be especially
susceptible to an overwrought religious enthusiasm.
Almost every night the little colony of families assembled in a building in the rear of head-quarters, make
ing the night vocal with their prayers and hymns. 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
Old Uncle Berryman, the general's servant, was the
patriarch of the flock, and led their somewhat peculiar worship. Standing in the centre, the vociferous
and perspiring worshipers moved swiftly around him,
singing, as they revolved, hymns like the following:
"The very best thing that ever I done   Glory hallelujah, bress de Lord!
Was to serve the Lord when I was young.
Glory hallelujah, bress de Lord!"
Long and loud they repeated this verse, until, having
at length exhausted it, they sang the second and only
remaining stanza:
"Then I sot down and felt very blue   Glory hallelujah, bress de Lord!
Says I, O Lord, what shall I do?
Glory hallelujah, bress de Lord!"
Da capo ad lib.
Great comfort they took in these meetings, and at last
it became necessary to limit their duration. Upon being spoken to in this connection, Berryman thus expostulated: " Gineral, I never speaks a word after de
taps; it's some of dem other darkies. Dat other
preacher is a Methodist, and you can't keep him still
nohow. I is a Baptist."
"Taps," to which Berryman referred, are the three
taps on the drum which are the camp-signal for the
men to put out their lights, and cease all loud talking
in their tents.  " Tattoo," the go-to-bed signal, is beaten about 9 o'clock, and taps come a quarter of an hour
afterward.  The getting-up signal, beaten not long after sunrise, is called reveille.
Friday, June 13th. Quite an exciting day, the vedettes coming in with reports that the enemy had at
45 
46    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
tacked and driven in our pickets outside the city. A
regiment of cavalry, two of infantry, and two batteries
were speedily put in motion, and we were soon riding
to the front. It proved to be only a cavalry attack,
and, before our troops reached the spot, the enemy had
retired. The men enjoyed the expedition exceedingly, and we owe the rebel attacking party our thanks
for a new sensation.
Quite a large body of troops were now assembled,
and occasional expeditions of cavalry were sent out to
disturb the quiet of the enemy, burn the railroad
bridges, and thus interrupt his communications, sometimes having a brush with the enemy's cavalry and
bringing in some prisoners. Their usual guide was a
native-born Virginian, in whom we all became much
interested. Hle seemed to me a sort of Daniel Webster in ebony - a strong, clear-headed man, who had
reached a true conception of the real issue in this war,
and devoted himself, body and soul, on the right side.
Knowing all the roads and by-ways in this section,
and brave as a lion, he led our boys with all the cool
courage needed in a scout, established a comprehensive system of espionage among the people of his own
color, and thus brought in much valuable information.
The rebels did him the honor to offer fifteen hundred
dollars reward for his head, and well they might, for
he was worth to the Union cause any two of the best
of us. As he sallied forth with military cap, blue coat
adorned with the button of old Massachusetts- its
ense petit pacidam sub libertate quieten singularly appropriate to his situation-with his revolver in his breast,
and a good horse under him, he was naturally lookec
up to with admiring eyes by his brother contrabands. 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
"IHe sets great store on hisself. He's a jet black nigger; got no white blood in his veins." This latter
physiological peculiarity, as it grows more and more
infrequent at the South, is gradually becoming quite a
badge of colored aristocracy; and no one could see
Dabney without being convinced of the pure blood of
the black scout of the Rappahannock.
About this time we were joined by King's division.
With it came the red-breeched 14th Brooklyn, a regiment reminding one of the gamains de Paris in the freedom of their manners, and the genius they displayed
in appropriating to themselves whatever they needed
for their personal comfort.  They brought with them
some bundles of counterfeit confederate notes, and
soon became excellent customers at the Fredericksburg shops. On entering, they usually accosted the
proprietor as follows:
"IDo you take this confederate stuff here? We
don't think it good for any thing, but, if you choose to
receive it, we'll make some purchases.'"
Shopkeeper (indignantly). "Those notes will buy
any thing in my store, sir."
And so more than three thousand dollars changed
hands, another illustration of the elevating influence
of war.
The city was never more quiet, but the bitter, burning hate of the wealthier classes still smouldered on,
unquenched and unquenchable.  A change had taken
place in the military government, and to some of us
it seemed as if treason was treated with altogether too
much leniency.  In Fredericksburg, as elsewhere I
presume, very many of those in moderate circumstances, the mechanics and farmers, were really Union
47 
48    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
men. Personally brought into acquaintance with several of these-men who longed to see the triumph of
the old flag-men who had been driven in from their
farms outside our lines, and were constantly subjected
to threats of vengeance from the wealthier city rebels,
I saw that what was needed was the strong hand of
governmental protection to bring out a latent Union
feeling which would have astonished a casual observer.
With grief and shame, I saw also that this strong hand
was never uplifted. Treason, being usually aristocratic, was cajoled, fed with sweetmeats, toyed with;
loyalty, being usually confined to the less wealthy,
was too much neglected, nay, almost frowned upon
and despised by some of those in authority. Practically, as every Union man felt in his bones, a premium
was held up by our officials to treason in Fredericksburg, and most bitterly did those who had suffered
every thing rather than prove false to their country
complain of it. Said one of them to me, "A man is
a fool who comes out for the Union in Fredericksburg." I could not gainsay his bitter reasoning.
The rebel men were of course compelled to common decency, the women still indulged in little demonstrations of contempt and dislike. In passing a soldier, they sometimes swept by as if afraid of contamination.  Our boys bore all this with a good deal of
indifference, but once in a while flung out a retaliatory sarcasm. Thus, as a woman, in passing a soldier,
lifted her skirts and moved by with a haughty gesture, he drawled out with exaggerated Yankee twang,
"Why, marm, how dirty your stockings are!  Just
look at'em!" Down, down went female skirts and
female pride at the same instant, while a hearty laugh 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
from his comrades winged the sarcastic shaft and sent
it well home.
June 26th. General Pope assumed command to-day
of the Army of Virginia, including the corps of
Generals Banks and Sigel, with our own under the
immediate command of General M'Dowell. This con centration, with other evidences, indicated a move ment, and promised us speedy relief from our present
monotony. The new general took hold with a good
deal of energy; a few of the good people of Freder icksburg were presently seized as hostages for their
neighbors now in the Richmond prisons, the passage
of supplies southward was stopped, and our rebel
friends began to discover the actual signification of
the word War.  Tb* Ui,ion citizens were of course
jubilant-held up theTir heads again; and as they expressed their congrad'tions, it was evident that their
feelings of relief, hope, and courage swelled up hard
by the fountain of tears.  Said one of them to me, a
native of South Carolina, but for fifteen years resident
of Fredericksburg, "Now at last I see a gleam of
sunlight. I had begun to despair, but now I feel that
we can put down this rebellion."
The army also partook of the new inspiration.
Tired of guarding the property of men actually in
arms against us, there was not a drummer-boy who
did not discover that a new policy had been inaugurated. Among the general orders of the new commander was one requiring the seizure of rebel horses
and forage when needed for the public service; and
our quarter-master availed himself of the opportunity
to exchange some of our worn-out animals for the
more serviceable stock of the wealthy planters in
C
49
I 
50    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the vicinity, giving them a voucher of the following
tenor:
"The undersigned freely acknowledges to have received, on this 1st day of July, 1862, from John Smith,
of Fredericksburg, for the use and service of the United States of America, four mules, which I have valued
at three hundred dollars. This voucher will be payable at the conclusion of the war, upon sufficient testimony being presented that said John Smith has been
a loyal citizen of said United States from the date
hereof.       By order of Brig. Gen. RUFUS KING.
"WILLIAM BROWN, A. Q. M. U.S. A."
This precious document miayv be called a " slow
note," in most cases not woA the in,k required to write
it, as none but known rebels w- invited to make this
involuntary patriotic offering.
July 4th, Independence day, was celebrated with
considerable eclat at our head-quarters. At noon a
salute from our brigade battery awoke the slumbering
echoes, and shortly after the troops marched in upon
the green in front of the house, and the piazza was
soon filled with field and staff officers, when the Declaration of Independence was read, and the usual oration delivered, the whole pleasantly varied by music
from the band of the 56th Pennsylvania Volunteers.
Truly the penates of the Phillips mansion, and the spirits of earth and air who, as the poets tell us, flit on invisible wings about these groves and hill-sides, must
have heard sentiments uttered on this occasion by the
parlous Yankee orator which had for them at least;he
charm of novelty. As for Virginians of mortal mould, 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
we had but few of them, and these mainly contraband
of war, who made up, however, for their lack of numbers by their open-mouthed enthusiasm. To them it
was Independence day indeed.
In the afternoon two or three of us rode down to
see the races on the green in front of division headquarters.  The troops lined the sides of a large hollow
square, a crowd of general and other officers occupied
the centre, and great was the rivalry of the different
regiments, not one of which but had a horse able to
beat the entire Army of Virginia. The donkey races
were very amusing, defying all calculation, the fantasies of this embodiment of self-willed obstinacy never
yet being reducible to any racing equation.
An hour or two of such fun is, however, quite sufficient, so I took a solitary ride through the streets of
Fredericksburg. Not a fire-cracker was flung at my
horse's heels, not a flag waved except in a sutler's
window; it was evident that Young Virginia was in
the dumps; so I hurried across the river, lest I also
should be infected with the painful gloom.
I was now for a week or two busily engaged as
judge-advocate of a courf-martial. The weather was
so pleasant that we occupied the back piazza, which,
walled in with canvas, made an excellent court-room.
As its sessions are open to all except while the court
is considering some doubtful point or consulting as to
the verdict and sentence, look in for a moment and see
how we try offenders in the army. At the head of
the table sits the president, opposite him is the judgeadvocate, the half dozen or more officers composing
the court being ranged in order of rank on either side.
On the right of the judge-advocate is the accused, sit
51
I 
52    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ting if an officer, standing if a private; on the left
stands the witness now under examination.  A sentry
walks to and fro in front of the court-room, an orderly
or two and several spectators are in the rear. The
accused is allowed counsel, but rarely exercises this
right, as the judge-advocate acts for him as well as the
government. The whole proceeding is eminently fair
and equitable: few legal technicalities embarrass the
examination; demurrers, rejoinders, and sur-rejoinders are unknown; the accused is permitted, when the
evidence is closed, to tell his own story; the courtroom is cleared, and the jury of officers decide as to
his guilt, and affix his punishment. On the whole, I
was very favorably impressed with this tribunal, and
have wished that some of our civil courts could approach more nearly to its simplicity of procedure,
and its common-sense method of attaining substantial
justice.
The punishments in the army are sometimes novel
and peculiar. I have seen a soldier standing erect for
hours upon a barrel-head; another with a huge board
strapped upon his shoulders, with the inscription, " I
am a coward," or "I ran away from the last battle;"
one man wears a wooden breastplate with the word
"Thief" upon it; another walks to and fro shouldering a billet of wood instead of a musket; some drag
after them a heavy ball and chain; others laboriously
undergo the "'knapsack drill," or carry large stones on
either shoulder. The great difficulty in properly pun ishing our volunteers is, that the misconduct of the
men is too often attributable to the want of proper
discipline on the part of their officers. It is but just
to remark; however, that, every thing considered, our 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
volunteers are a well-behaved set of men, rarely need ing the services of a court-matial.
Thus with little of incident passed the pleasant sum mer weeks, our regular routine duties, an occasional
review, a gallop through the forests of oak, chestnut,
and cedar, and the ever-recurring rumors of an immediate movement affording scarcely variety enough to
keep off ennui. Of the lovely view from the piazza
of our head-quarters I never tired. At night, after all
was still, it was my custom to sit here a while, smoking with one of our aids the pipe of quiet contemplation. The sentry pacing his solitary round, the four
little howitzers glistening in the moonlight, the fringe
of white tents immediately about us, and the white
cloud of tents resting upon the valleys beyond, all
spoke of war, but the general influence of the hour led
usually to subjects of a far different character. It was
on such an occasion he told me that he did not expect
to live to see the end of the war, a prophetic foreboding only too surely realized.
At length, on the 4th of August, the arrival of Burnside's army, which was to hold possession of Fredericksburg, indicated that the long-expected movement
was at hand. Our brigade was now a3signed to the
division commanded by General Rufus King: his other brigades being the 1st, under General Hatch, consisting of the 2d regiment of U. S. Sharpshooters and
four regiments of New York troops; the 3d, under
General Patrick, composed of four New York regiments; and the 4th, under General Gibbon, made up
of one Indiana and three Wisconsin regiments. Our
own, the 2d brigade, was composed of one Pennsylva
63 
54   THE BIVOUAC AN  THE BATTLE-FIELD.
nia and two New York regiments, to which was afterward added the 7th'Incana
Our expected move made it necessary to part with
Nannette, who went back to her children at Warrenton; and several of our colored attaches now left us,
being unwilling to leave their families  Our general
resigned the Phillips House to one of the new generals, as our brigade was now relieved from guarding
the railroad, and it was time for us to encamp near it
and learn how to live in tents. Our new head-quarters were fixed in a pretty grove adjoining the house
of some ladies, who, though strongly sympathizing
with the South, never forgot their sex, and did all in
their power to make our brief stay agreeable.
Come into my tent, beneath the welcome shade of
a stately pine, and you may see how a staff officer
lives. The little house of canvas is nine feet square;
a portable army cot makes on one side a good lounge
by day and a right comfortable bed by night, with a
writing-desk against the rear pole, a camp stool or two,
a cracker-box toilet-stand in one corner with tin cup
and basin, a rope stretched overhead for coats, etc.,
the floor strewed with evergreens, and a square yard
of carpet as a reminder of civilization. Very simple
furniture all this, but quite sufficient, and we shall see
occasions during the coming campaign when it will
appear almost palatial.
Our mess-table is spread in the latticed porch of the
dwelling, and the major has lately introduced a whistle
as the call to meals.  If you can eat from tin, you will
be welcomed to a very respectable dinner. The gov;
ernment now supplies us with abundance of fresh beef
-even potatoes are not wanting-while the appetizing 
PHILLIPS'S HOUSE HEAD-QUARTERS.
sauce of pleasant conversation seasons all. The usual
order to keep the men supplied with three days' cooked rations has reached us; every meal may be the
last taken in our present locality, and all are rejoicing
that we are having our last experiences in " Camp op posite Fredericksburg."
55 
56    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER VI.
FROM FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
T length, on the afternoon of August 9th, as I
was reclining upon my lounge after a hearty
dinner, with my tent-flaps flung wide open to invite
the cooling breeze, I heard the general's voice in the
next tent directing an orderly to summon the staff.
In a brief period all were assembled, when we were
notified that orders to march had just been received.
Our adjutant general at once dispatched the orderlies
to the regiments encamped in the fields close by headquarters, and all were soon engaged in packing up
preparatory to striking tents. After I had seen every
thing ready for our baggage-wagons, I mounted my
horse and rode off to make some final arrangements,
noticing every where the bustle of prospective departure except among Burnside's men, who were to remain behind.
Our destination was Cedar Mountain, at which point
the Army of Virginia was now concentrating, and two
of the brigades of our division moved thither by another road. At 4 P.M. all was ready; the men fell
in, each heavily laden with knapsack, extra ammunition, and three days' nmihing rations; the regiments
wheeled into column, the band struck up an exhilarating air, and the brigade was soon crossing the
pontoon bridge into Fredericksburg. Following the
troops came the head-quarter and regimental wagons, 
FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.  57
the latter carrying the camp-kettles and other cooking
utensils of the men and a limited amount of officers'
baggage; and, lastly, the supply train laden with subsistence and forage, the rear closed up by the rearguard.
The afternoon was so very warm that one poor fellow, whose zeal had outrun his discretion, quietly laid
down on the sidewalk and died before his regiment
had fairly quitted the city. But even the heat of the
weather and their heavy burdens could not wholly repress the enthusiasm of our troops, inexperienced in
the trials of campaign life and eager for a change. I
had joined the general and a portion of the staff in
the city, and, while the troops were marching through,
we practically obeyed the campaign maxim-" whenever you can secure a decent meal, do so"-by taking
a farewell repast at a quiet inn. The general then
rode on to the front, leaving two of us behind to hurry up the wagon-train, which had been delayed at the
river-crossing. The twilight had descended before we
were ready to go forward, and as our horses walked
slowly through the silent streets, one of our party, a
good singer, sang one or two songs as a parting serenade. I fear that the fair rebels, who sat at their front
doors enjoying the evening hour, failed to appreciate
his courtesy, or to sympathize with the joyful feelings
with which we went "marching along" out of their
pretty but sleepy city.
A quick gallop soon brought us up with the advancing column, and, pushing past the troops, we joined
the general riding at the head of the brigade. It was
a lovely night for marching, the troops moved on well,
their arms glistening in the moonlight, and yet, so
C2 
58   THE BIVOUAC AND ITHE BATTLE-FIELD.
slow is the movement of an army, that it was nearly
midnight before we reached our halting-place, nine
miles distant from Fredericksburg.  The different
regiments were at once marched into the fields on
either side of the road, where they bivouacked in their
blankets, a few pickets were thrown out, our horses
were tied to a fence and furnished with fodder from a
neighboring rick, and then the general and staff were
at liberty to seek repose. The general took possession
of a lower room in a neighboring farm-house, while
two of us very unwisely sought repose upon a feather
bed in an upper chamber. The result was highly unsatisfactory, as may well be imagined from the state
of the thermometer, and little was accomplished in
the way of sleep.
At daybreak next morning the men were cooking
their coffee, and shortly after we quitted our couch of
torment, and were ready for our own breakfast. In
the course of an hour the column was again in motion; the road was in fine order, but the day was
warm and enervating. If one who had formed his
ideas of the marching of troops from the volunteer
parades of our citizen soldiers on Broadway or Boston
Common could have accompanied us to-day, he would
have been wofully disappointed. "Route step" and
" arms at will" were the orders. Every man was allowed to keep his own gait so long as he maintained
his position in his company. The indispensable tin
cup dangled from many a bayonet, while the musket
described every possible angle but the right one. No
martial music lent new vigor to tired limbs; not evea
a drum and fife marked time for the movement. Occasionally a rank or two joined in a lively chorus, 
FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.   59
but, as the heat became more oppressive, even this
ceased; the most waggish volunteer lost his power to
charm; wearily through the dust the column plodded
on. This marching beneath an August sun in Virginia has nothing -of military romance about it; it is,
on the contrary, downright hard work, especially for
troops like our own, unaccustomed to such service.
Frequent halts afforded some relief; but our march
had not continued three hours before some of the
men began to straggle from the column, upon all sorts
of excuses, slyly watching a favorable opportunity;
some really unwell, but the majority only pretending
to be unwell; they stole into the woods skirting the
road, or sank down by the wayside really exhausted.
The rear-guard of course compelled many of these
stragglers to rejoin their commands, and helped the
really sick into the ambulances, but numbers escaped
theirnotice, some to rejoin their regiment later in the
day, some never to rejoin it at all.
This straggling is the great evil of our army, lessening by a serious percentage the effetive force upon
which a commander can rely in going into battle.  It
is astonishing what sudden and severe fits of illness
are apt to attack a soldier when he gets sight of an
attractive farm-house, and how sad a story he always
has to tell when he once gains entrance. A pretty
close observation enables me to state positively that
no soldier under such circumstances was ever known
to have had "any thing to eat for two whole days,"
though his haversack might be even then plethoric
with rations.
And the pleas these stragglers put in when caught
with plunder are sometimes sublime in their audacity. 
60    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
"Hallo, my man! where did you get that pork?"
called out our major to a soldier staggering along
with something wrapped up in his shelter-tent, and
crimsoning the ground as he passed.
"It isn't pork, sir, it's tomatoes; you don't know,
sir, how hard it is to tell pork from tomatoes in this
country."  The major, a pleasant hand at a joke himself, was conquered at once, and did not press his inquiries.
In this regard we are, however, no greater sufferers
than the rebels. From conversations with rebel officers, prisoners of war, I learn that they lose as much
in this way, and perhaps more. Straggling can only
be put down by a severity of discipline, which has
never yet been known in our volunteer system, but
which seems absolutely indispensable.
It was my duty, as acting aid, to pass occasionally
from front to rear, to see that the regiments kept well
closed up, and I was pained to see, as the day wore
on, so many of our poor fellows overcome by the heat,
and resting by the wayside. At midday a longer
halt than usual enabled the men to cook their coffee.
The usual daily allowance of a soldier, called the ram
tion, is so ample, that I give it as the best illustration 
in my power of the care which Uncle Samuel takes
of his soldiers.  It consists of three fourths of a pound
of pork, or a pound and a quarter of fresh or salt beef,
a pound of hard bread, or twenty-two ounces of flour,
with an ample supply of coffee or tea, sugar, rice,
beans, salt, soap, vinegar, molasses, and candles; and,
when practicable, potatoes, onions, dried apples, and;
desiccated vegetables.  The only trouble with the full
ration is that no soldier can eat the whole of it, and  
FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.   61
some reduction might be made with benefit to the
service. On a march, however, he is allowed only
marching rations," consisting of five articles-meat,
hard bread, coffee, sugar, and salt; and I have thought
it would be well to allow commissaries to increase the
issue of the three latter articles, as nothing seems to
refresh the troops so much as a cup of coffee, and at
every halt during the day the tin cup was in requisi! tion at each little impromptu camp-fire.
Once, while returning to the front, I had an adven  ture more exciting than agreeable. I had halted a
while at the forks of the road, and dismounted to
breathe my mare, a courtesy of which she took advan  tage to dash off at full speed. To mount another
horse and pursue her was the work of a moment, and
a three-mile race then and there came off, made still
more delightful by the fact that we had left the road
taken by our brigade, and by my consequent appre  hension that I might be making my way straight into
the enemy's lines. I tried coaxing, strategy, hard run  ning, but all in vain. Several times I could almost
grasp her mane, when up would fly her heels, and away
she would dart unpityingly. At last I tamed my
horse down to a walk, and her ladyship turned off
into a field, where a couple of soldiers who had strag  gled from another brigade aided me in securing her;
one good thing, at least, to be put to the credit of strag  gling.
Our destination for the day was Ely's Ford of the
Rapidan, and we had taken a guide at a farm-house
near Fredericksburg, who accompanied us part of the
way, and then left us with full directions; but either
he was ignorant, or we had misunderstood him; cer 
62    THE BIVOUAC AND THIE BATTLE-FIELD.
tain it is that about 3 P.M. we became convinced that
we were on the wrong road. My mare had really
taken the right course at first. Small thanks to her.
We had gone out of our way only a mile or two,
but this addition to the march of our tired column
was discouraging. The road on which we were now
moving was also very narrow, so that it was difficult to
turn the long army wagon.  The army teamster is not
a stoic, nor usually subdued in the expression of his
emotions, and I fear that, had our guide presented himself just then, his feelings would have been slightly
wounded, if nothing more. A drenching rain had just
set in, which did not add to the general equanimity.
In an hour we were again in the right road, and so,
over a rolling, heavily-wooded country, with scarcely
a single evidence of cultivation, we approached the
Rapidan.  The air all day had been full of the rumors
of battle-rumors coming no one knew how or whither; perhaps the birds brought them, or the leaves
whispered them; certainly every one felt their influence.  We had yet to learn that at this hour, as we
were quietly riding through the forests, the battle was
raging in which we had expected to participate, and
which has made Cedar Mountain famous in American
history. At about 6 P.M. we reached Ely's Ford, and
forded the Rapidan, here some two hundred feet wide.
The heavy shower had already raised the river so that
it washed our horses' bellies, and I confess that my
heart misgave me as I thought that our men must
cross at this point before reaching their bivouac for
the night.
Very near the ford, on the north side of the river,
we found the residence of a small farmer, a long, gaunt 
FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.   63
man, put together well enough, perhaps, originally, but
now quite shaken to pieces by the fever and ague.
The house was small, dirty, and dilapidated, and the
whole establishment worthy of its proprietor. Of
thrift, comfort, good farming, there was none; it was
evident that the occupants barely existed-did not
live. One meets many just such dwellings and just
such residents in the South; men who lie around loose
rather than stand erect on God's footstool; men who
seem to have no heritage of ideas or manly aspiration,
but manage in a very desultory way to keep body and
soul together. They are about the poorest specimens
of humanity I have met with during a somewhat va
ried experience of travel, having more of the vices of
civilization, and less of that native manliness we find
even among the wild Bedouins. Labor is degrading,
so of course the sons are idle; a slave or two become
the scapegoats of their masters' idleness; their dialect
is almost unmitigated African; when they wish to ascend to an upper chamber they always go up "stars;"
when they feel chilly they hasten to shut the "dough;"
as for their fondness for reading and writing, the curious may consult the census tables. I confess that I
had hard work to struggle-with a feeling of contempt
for these, the worst victims of slavery, stigmatized
by the haughty slaveholders as " poor white trash."
Beautiful Virginia lies sterile, semi-barbarous, miserable, at the feet of her evil genius, only to grow young,
and strong, and powerful, only to regain her once proud
title of the Old Dominion, when all this race of donothings is gone, when free labor comes to touch with
new magic the springs of intelligence, enterprise, and
industry.
L- 
64    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
The whole family were gathered in the porch as we
rode up, and at once began to implore for kindly treat ment. Our host was quite overcome with fear, and
his wife sought in vain to keep him from almost grov eling entreaty. To convince them that we were friends,
not enemies; that not an article would be taken with out their consent, and that ample reward should re pay every accommodation, was our first duty; but
even after the entente cordiale was established, I noticed
with pain a young girl, the only interesting person
on the premises, still trembling with apprehension.
Taught by the leaders of the rebellion that the Northmen were wild beasts in ferocity, that all chivalry and
gentlemanliness were monopolized by the Southern
slave-trader, it was no wonder that this, her first experience, should thus have startled lier.
While quieting the fears of our host, our boys,
drenched to the skin, but jolly as they always are in
a rain-storm, began to move by, having forded the
Rapidan probably at double-quick. Fortunately for
them, the sun gave us a good-night glance at parting,
and thus, under more cheerful auspices, they stacked
arms, and prepared to bivouac. The ground had been
selected by one of the staff before the regiments arrived, keeping in view, 1st, a good military position
with reference to the presumed locality of the enemy,
and, 2d, nearness to wood and water. The brigade
was thus fronted toward the west in the fields on either
side of the main road, and soon the camp-fires were in
full glow, the evening meal in progress, boughs of trees
brought in for beds, guards posted, and every body
comfortable.
Meantime our hostess, aided by the kitchen cabinet,
il-!
I -! 
9 
FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.   65
was busily engaged in preparing supper for the general
and staff, most of whom had eaten nothing since our
early breakfast. Even the daughter, who had been so
much frightened, was now cordial and friendly to us
as we sat drying our garments at the kitchen fire.
The front room was furbished up, a good fire filled it
with sparkling comfort, and we were pleasantly anticipating a good long night's sleep, when an orderly
dashed up with orders to bring on the brigade as
speedily as possible. Our men and animals were,
however, too entirely used up by the long march to be
able to move a step farther without some rest, and it
was nearly morning before the last wagons had fairly
crossed the river. Regimental commanders were sent
for, maps consulted, and the order issued to march at
one o'clock. From all we could learn, to-morrow was
to bring us face to face with the enemy.
But supper was now the primary object of attack,
and great was the havoc in the bacon and corn-bread
department. Soon we were ready for bed; the floor
of our banqueting-hall and of the room adjoining was
crowded with army cots, and before 8 o'clock the
lights were out and all was still. My clothes were
still wet, but this enabled me to try the virtues of hydropathy. Sleep was the order of the night, and, as
our time was limited, we made a business of it. At 1
P.M. that luxury was over; every body turned out,
a cup of coffee was swallowed, horses were. saddled,
and in a few minutes we had left the house.
Jfonday, August 11th. The early morning air was
deliciously balmy; all that was commonplace and
mean about us lay transfigured by the witchery of the
moonlight, and as I moved among the camp-fires I was
ok
.1
'j. 
66    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
quite fascinated with the novel midnight scene. Hurriedly the staff dashed to and fro, hastening the preparations to depart, and at length the leading regiment
moved out into the road, and the general rode to the
front.  As we sat on our horses at the heas of the column, clear and full through the silent air came the
voice of one of our colonels addressing his men: " Officers and soldiers of the 56th! At length the day for
which we have so long waited has arrived.  This day
we are to meet the enemy." Only an occasional sentence or two of the brief address reached us, but at its
close cheer after cheer attested its exhilarating influence, the band struck up a lively air, and the column
moved quickly out into the road.
Not long after an aid galloped up, saluted the general, and reported, "The column is formed, sir, and
the wagons all ready to draw out into the road." At
once we were in motion, the advance guard under
command of a captain clergyman, who to great intelligence added a bravery founded upon principle, to
be hereafter nobly illustrated on the field of battle.
Riding near his command, I noticed with admiration
the military carriage and evident discipline of his men.
Three weeks later he fell, pierced with five bullets, to
lie for months upon the bed of weariness, and at length
recover, to be promoted to a vacant majority in his
regiment.
Next the advance guard rode the general and staff;
orders to march or to halt were passed from front to
rear by one or two taps of the drum; and so over a
heavily-wooded rolling country, through roads arched
with foliage, the moonlight filling them with fantastic'
shapes and shadows, we pursued our romantic way.
.i 
ii -I 
FREDERICKSBURG TO CEDAR MOUNTAIN.   67
The peculiar. quiet of the hour, and the weird influence of the forest scenery, with patches of moonlight
flung in here and there among the prevailing shadow,
every turn of the road seemingly a narrow pass over
which giant and grotesque trees stood guard to oppose
our progress, added mystic significance to those reflections which our anticipated battle naturally awakened. No longer Yankee soldiers of the nineteenth
century, we were for the nonce knights of the ancient
chivalry, pledged to a holier cause and sworn to a nobler issue than Coeur de Lion himself ever dreamed
of. To me this was perhaps the most inspiring season
of the whole campaign.
Our men marched swiftly, and shortly after daybreak we reached Richards's Cross Roads, to be halted
for three hours, while, crowding the roads with cavalry, artillery, and infantry, the three other brigades of
our division moved past, for here their route and our
own met. The men now cooked their breakfasts, and
we were glad to accept the hospitality of General Patrick's mess-table. At nine o'clock the road was clear
at last, and now our march became tedious, dusty,
prosaic, all the glamour of last night's romance having
departed with the moonlight. With eight thousand
troops and their long caravans of wagons in front of
us, wearisome halts were constantly occurring; and'as
the heat became more oppressive, the men straggled
correspondingly. During the middle of the day we
did not average a mile an hour. At every bad place
in the road, and Virginia highways are full of them,
the wagon trains were delayed; an accident to a wheel
halted the whole column, and so very slowly we crept
along.
.1
O, 
68    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
So slow a march offers great temptation to the sol diers to quit the ranks for marauding purposes. Leav ing other articles untouched, they seemed to consider
poultry and other eatables their legitimate spoil, and
I was compelled several times to-day to drive off
squads from our own and the other brigades prowling
about the farm-houses after gastronomic plunder. To ward the close of the day orders came to make a
forced march, as General Pope intended to attack the
enemy next day, and needed our help. So the men
unslung their knapsacks, leaving them with the wagons in the rear under charge of a guard, and pushed
on rapidly without these encumbrances. Day grew
into twilight, twilight deepened into night, and still
we pushed forward. It was fully eleven o'clock before we reached our camping-ground, having been
some twenty-two hours on the road, and marched
twenty-six miles. Only in an hour of extremity ought
such a march to be attempted in August weather.
Two of our poor boys died in the ambulances from
sunstroke and exhaustion, and even those of us on
horseback suffered considerably from the intense heat.
The regiments were then turned into the nearest
fields, and sank at once to rest, and glad enough were
we to follow their example. Our wagons being now
several miles in the rear, there was nothing to be done
except to lie down wherever the darkness directed,
roll ourselves in our blankets, and with saddle for
pillow and the starry heavens for canopy, seek a supperless sleep; and a most refreshing sleep it was, untroubled by indigestion and unvexed by dreams. 
.. 
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
CHAPTER VII.
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
UESDAY, August 12th. Much refreshed by our
alfresco slumbers, we rose early to make a light
breakfast of coffee and hard bread, procured at a neighboring comminssariat. But the expected summons to
battle did not come. The bloody battle of Cedar
Mountain had been fought on Saturday, and during
the last night Jackson withdrew his army, retreating
toward Gordonsville. Thus our forced march of yesterday had been made in vain.
Our last night's bivouac left us in a field bare of
shade-trees, close to the dusty road, about half way between Culpepper Court-house and Cedar Mountain.
The Army of Virginia was all about us-every where
troops and artillery; one continuous string of army
wagons, moving to and from Culpepper Station, filled
the road;'we were in the midst of the liveliest military scene I had ever witnessed. Shortly after breakfast one of our head-quarter ambulances came up, and
constituted for a while our only head-quarters, while
the troops, who were not so dependent on the wagontrain, put up their shelter-tents, and thus took their
needed rest, well protected from the fierce rays of the
summer sun. After a while a paulin was procured
from a battery and stretched over an upright, and
here our adjutant transacted his business, and the general received his callers, while the rest of the staff were
69
IF 
70    THIE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
occupied in their various duties. For one, I was very
thankful when, late in the afternoon, our head-quarter
wagons reached us, and a decided feeling of exhilaration came over me as my canvas palace went up and
received its simple furniture. In fifteen minutes the
dusty field became for me a home, and I was enjoying
a welcome bath, and the luxury of being alone.
In an hour or two I walked out toward the campfire to find Patrick in all his glory, having received
carte blanche. from our judicious caterer. Our entire
store of canned meats and similar delusions was placed
at his disposal; beef-steak, hard bread, and coffee supplied ad libitum. The mess-table was spread in the
office-tent; and here, about dusk, around what was
literally a festive board, we forgot our past discomfort.
As we had still some arrears of sleep to make up, nine
o'clock found our lights all out, and soon the solitary
sentinel was probably the only waking person in our
little camp.
'Next morning,Wednesday, I rode over to the village
of Culpepper Court-house -a pleasant ride through an
agreeably diversified country.  The little town was
now  a hospital; hotels, churches, and private residences were put into requisition for our wounded in
Saturday's battle.  Hiaving transacted my business at
the Station, I visited some of these hospitals, and found
our boys comfortably clothed and bedded, and carefully tended by nurses, some of them of that sex specially adapted to this tender service. Of the wounded
who are brought off from a battle-field, four out of
five recover, and a majority of those whose wounds
terminate fatally die within a day or two after theyenter the hospital. Hence, as I moved among the
Lk~ 
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
beds, I found the general tone of feeling cheerful
and hopeful; the men were evidently proud of their
wounds, and more attached than ever before to the
good cause.  One handsome-faced lad, who had been
shot through the body, weak and suffering, yet all
aglow with enthusiasm, said to me as I paused to speak
with him, "Well, I didn't flinch, anyhow; the colonel
will tell you that." But there were some too weak
to converse, lingering, as it were, midway between life
and death; while others, pallid and still, bore upon
their already wasted features the sign and seal of the
death-angel, soon to liberate them and bear them back
to God. Yet even to these a word of cheerful sympathy seemed welcome, for nowhere is a mournful
visage so out of place as in a hospital. One should
always try his best in such a place to throw in his
little word of comfort, hope, and encouragement, unless he feel called upon to join with the sufferer in the
nearer and more sacred service of our religion. I am
free to confess that this, my first visit to the hospitals,
lacked that earnest personal sympathy and almost affectionate feeling which is perhaps impossible except
between those who have shared the dangers of battle
together. Sympathy in its deepest sense must spring
from common experiences, and it seemed to me that I,
who had never put my life in peril for my country,
had hardly a right to stand, full of health and vigor,
among these brave men lying pale and wounded about
me.
After visiting the hospitals I went up into the hall
over the court-house, where a number of rebel prisoners were confined. On my entrance they crowded
around me to inquire as to the news, and we were
71
ij,E 
72    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
soon engaged in conversation. Of course I could not
feel much sympathy here, though I felt that after all
they were only the misguided tools of others who had
poisoned the ear of the whole Southern people with
their falsehoods. As a who]e, they did not impress
me favorably; with some exceptions, they seemed an
ignorant, semi-barbarous set of men, dirty, ragged, and
with not half so manly a look as our own soldiers.
Still, on leaving, I could not help remarking, "Well,
boys, I wish we were fighting side by side together instead of against each other!"  "Yes, yes," was the
strong and hearty response in all directions.
On leaving this prison I heard the sound of martial
music, and stopped my horse at the street corner to
see the troops go by.  As they came on I saw that
they were the men of New York, and Massachusetts,
and other states, who had suffered so terribly in the
late battle, their ranks fearfully reduced, regiments
commanded by  captains, and brigades by majors.
How proudly they moved forward, these braves who
had deserved well of their country. The sight thrilled me through and through, and I silently tendered
to them, one and all, the homage of my personal respect and gratitude. At a residence near by lay the
dead body of one of the colonels of this division, who
died this morning of his wounds, and each regimental
band, as the column passed the house, filled the street
with the touching music of Pleyel's hymn, or the dead
march in Saul, or some other familiar dirge. They
seemed to me to be pouring forth a requiem for their
own gallant comrades now released from life's battle
and gone home. There was every thing to make thesight impressive; and when the flags, riddled and torn 
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
with shot and bullets, fluttered by, unbidden tears
sprang to my eyes, and I lifted my cap almost involuntarily, compelled, even in defiance of military etiquette, to manifest in some way my pent-up emotion.
God bless our brave volunteers!
Thursday, August 14th. At breakfast this morning
we were notified that at 10 A.M. our division would
be reviewed by General Pope, and there was a general donning of the newest uniforms. Before ten o'clock
the line was formed in an adjacent field, the brigades
being drawn up en masse in two lines, owing to the
limited extent of the review-ground, the artillery taking the right flank and the cavalry the left. The division numbered about ten thousand men. Shortly
after, General Pope, followed by his staff, rode into the
field, halting a moment in front to receive the customary salute, and then proceeded along the lines, accompanied by General M'Dowell, each regimental band receiving him in turn as he passed by. Again he took
his position in front, and the division marched past,
officers saluting and colors dipping; and so ended the
brief ceremony, and we were now, for the first time,
fairly introduced to our new commander. As I had
determined to visit the battle-field of Cedar Mountain,
I was glad when the review was over, and at once
started with some friends on our excursion.
The day was overcast, just suited for our ride, and
for the first two miles the scenery was decidedly military, field, grove, and hill-side being tenanted by our
troops. As we approached the scene of Saturday's
hot struggle, I experienced that feeling of intense expectation, of curiosity mingled with awe, which inspires even the least thoughtful in visiting, for the
l' i'
73
.1
D 
74    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
first time, a recent battle-field. I suppose no one
walks through a quiet grave-yard-God's acre, as the
Germans significantly name it-without some such
sense of awe, even though it be made beautiful with
trees, and flowers, and running brooks, the home of
happy birds; and to-day we were to visit no ordinary
cemetery, but rather the high place of sacrifice whereon the loyal North offered up its best and bravest on
the altar of patriotism, justice, liberty-nay, rather on
the altar of God himself.
I confess that my first survey of the battle-field of
Cedar Mountain disappointed me. I had formed in
imagination a picture far more replete with dark and
fearful shadings; I had certainly expected that the accumulated horrors of a tragedy like this, when thousands of valiant men stood face to face in the dread
shock of battle, straining every nerve to kill, and calling into service all the enginery of modern warfare,
would have stamped upon the landscape a far deeper
impress. Within these two miles square, through
these' woods and cornfields, and over these plains,
Banks advanced, eight thousand strong, on Saturday
morning, to be driven back later in the day by the
overpowering numbers of Jackson's army, the latter to
be repulsed in the evening with great slaughter. Here
Generals Augur, Geary, and Carroll were wounded;
here more than fifteen hundred of our men were killed
or wounded, and, from the most reliable estimates, a
far greater number of the enemy. And yet Nature,
ever active, had already done very much to wipe out
forever the traces of this sad story. Already mother
earth had absorbed into her own veins the crimfon
tide but lately staining field and dell; already she had
bit,
0 
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
received back again the worn-out and mangled bodies
of her brave children. Over the spots where, during
the brief contest, was the fiercest carnage, now waved
the summer canopy of leaves, while all through the
woods the birds sang sweetly, as if their pleasant
homes had never known the rude blasts of war.
But as we rode over the ground, and visited more
in detail the different scenes of struggle, of attack and
repulse, of charge and retreat, the battle-tokens were
more manifest. Little groups of slaughtered horses
indicated the position of the various batteries; here
were forests torn with shot and shell, cornfields crushed
and trampled, and, scattered all over the field, the
graves of those killed in action. On the extreme left,
where Prince's Brigade met so bravely the fierce onslaught of the enemy, and faced the rebel batteries on
Cedar Mountain; through this ravaged cornfield, held
so persistently by Geary; in these woods and wheatfields at the right of the road, over and through which
Crawford and Gordon charged, holding an overwhelming rebel force so long at bay, in trenches and single
graves slept our braves. Let no one speak of their
lives as prematurely cut off, of their deaths as untimely, for such a glorious ending rounds out the briefest
career into a perfect whole, while it adds inappreciable
significance and holy consecration to its patriotic close.
Now, as ever, Dulce et decorum est pro patria more
The ground about us was strewn with the usual relics of a battle-field-fragments of shot and shell, caps
perforated with bullets, garments dyed crimson, cartridge-boxes, canteens, and knapsacks.  A few of these
I collected and put into my saddle-bags, carefully keeping them until I had had personal experience of bat
75
I
I!! 
76    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
tie, when I threw them all away, needing no such reminders of its scenes of horror and excitement.
As we rode into a belt of woods through which the
rebels had charged late in the evening, to be driven
back by the batteries of Ricketts's Division, the mangled trees and rude mounds covering the rebel dead
attested the horrors of that iron storm. Our enemy
had not found time for decent burial, for only partially
covered lay the victims of Southern treason-one
stretching forth his swollen hand toward the heavens,
another with naked feet or shoulder protruding, as if
crowded from his grave-a scene too awful for description. Can you find, in any picture drawn by poet's pen or painter's pencil, a scene more sadly typical of the unmitigated horrors of war? Dante himself could hardly do it justice.
Friday, August 15th. Our men were now thoroughly
rested, the stragglers had come up, and at head-quarters we had fallen into our usual quiet routine. Among
the bits of camp scandal floating about as usual, we
heard to-day that the Brooklyn 14th, feeling thoroughly satisfied with our late march, had laid hands on all
the horses in the neighborhood, impressed a sufficient
number of carts to carry their knapsacks, and proposed, when we next moved, to appear as cavalry.
One of them found a condemned government horse at
large in the fields, and immediately claimed him as
lawful prize. As he was riding down the road on his
new charger at the rate of about a mile an hour, one
of our staff met and thus accosted him:  "My man, I
should think you could walk a good deal faster than
you can ride on that horse."  "Yes, sir," was the reply, " that's true; but the fact is, that even the great
I;, ) 
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
est pleasures in life sometimes pall, and reallyhl'have
had quite enough even of the luxury of walking.".;
A business trip to Culpepper, during whih;I onke 
more visited the hospitals, consumed a goodly porti!n
of the day.  General Reno had come in upon us yes-..
terday with 8000 men, a portion of Burnside's old
army, and to-night, as I sat at the opening of my tent,
I had the best night view of a large encampment I had
ever enjoyed.  Far away, in every direction over the
rolling country, flashed a thousand camp-fires; every
tent was illuminated, and a little aid from the imagination revealed a stately city, with its regular avenues
of light. But I was feeling a little touch of homesickness, and could not help reflecting that these were not
the peaceful homes and happy firesides of quiet citizenship, but the temporary shelter of those who, far
away from their loved ones, had taken their lives in
their hands in defense of fatherland. There was not
one in all this great camp who had not left some one
to mourn his absence, not one so poor and mean as to
be without some tie binding him to others, and liable
to be broken by the rude touch of war. At the nearest camp-fires little groups sat cosily together; others,
stretched at full length in their shelter-tents, were writing, reading, or playing at cards. I heard no boisterous mirth, nor is that a characteristic of troops when
engaged in the serious business of a campaign.  Just
then a distant tattoo broke in upon the stillness of the
night; the drums of the different regiments took up
the refrain, and the signal for bed resounded through
the entire army. Eagerly I listened for the bugle-calls
from the artillery and cavalry camps-a simple strain
which always charmed me. The different bugles now
77 
78   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
sounded the call in tune, each striving to excel the
others in the sweetness and clearness of his notes.
Fifteen minutes afterward, three taps upon the drum
sounded from regiment to regiment, all lights were extinguished except in the guard-tents and at head-quarters, and the illumination was over. No one could
now enter within the limits of the camp without the
countersign; a chain of sentinels surrounded each regiment, while miles away infantry pickets and cavalry
vedettes, perhaps within hailing distance of the foe, insured our safety from any nocturnal visit of the enemy. And now in my own tent I enjoyed the pleasantest hour or two in the twenty-four, and then for
grateful sleep.
Saturday, August 16th. General Jackson having retreated southward to unite his forces with the main
rebel army, a forward movement was this day ordered,
and our corps moved down to Cedar Mountain, and
encamped on both flanks of it. We thus held the centre position, with Sigel on our right and Reno on our
left, Banks's corps, so badly cut up in the last battle,
remaining in reserve. Our own brigade moved about
8 A.M., marched five miles, and encamped a little to
the west of Cedar Mountain, and very near the battlefield. Our tents were pitched in a pleasant grove upon
a little knoll, the general's tent in the centre, flanked
by those of his staff, with the tents of the brigade
guard, orderlies, and servants, and the open-air stables
of the staff horses, in the rear.
Here we remained two days; and I took the opportunity to ride over the green and gradually-sloping
sides of Cedar Mountain, and visit the spots where the
enemy had encamped, and where his artillery had been 
CAMP NEAR CEDAR MOUNTAIN.
so advantageously posted in the late battle. Our men
found in the woods about us the unburied bodies of
several rebels, who, mortally wounded, had sought in
vain to drag themselves away from the fatal field, and
had then fallen down to die, to be laid at last in a soldier's grave by those whom they had considered their
deadly foes.
Our brief sojourn at this spot was only a period of
waiting expectancy; the troops were kept constantly
supplied with three days' marching rations; rumors
of the approach of the enemy in great force were prevalent, and every one felt that the order to march might
come at any moment. One quiet Sunday was, however, vouchsafed us; on the morrow we were to bid
good-by to Cedar Mountain.
79 
80    THIE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER VIII.
FROMI CEDAR MOUNTAIN TO THE RAPPAHANNOCK.
[ONDAY, August 18th. Definite information that
the whole rebel army was advancing in overwhelming numbers had at length come in, and to-day
we were ordered to fall back.  A weary, weary experience was before us.  At 4 P.M. we struck tents; the
men were drawn up preparatory to marching, our
horses saddled, and every thing got in readiness, and
then we waited eight long tedious hours before leaving the ground, the road being wholly occupied by the
troops and wagons of other commands. As night
came on, we gathered around our camp-fire, and the
troops were allowed to cook their coffee. It seemed
as if the order to march would never come. Leadenwinged and slow glided on the hours, and about nine
o'clock I sat down in an ambulance and tried in vain
to get a wink or two of sleep. At last, about midnight, the summons to march was given, and we
moved out into the road, marched a quarter of a mile,
halted an hour, started again, and again halted; so that
at daybreak, so crowded was the highway with men
and horses, we had only accomplished about two miles.
The supply trains of the entire army had preceded us,
as is usual on a retreat, and General Pope, with his
staff, busied themselves during the night in urging
them forward. The delay was inevitable, but slightly
discouraging. Our general, with his usual cheerful 
CEDAR MOUNTAIN TO TiE RAPPAIANNOCK.  81
nonchalance, thought only of the weary troops; some
of his staff, however, could not help feeling very tired
and considerably disgusted. The morning was damp
and chilly; the ground wet with yesterday's rain;
there was no immediate prospect of our having a clear
road, so the active major set some men to work in
making a large fire, around which daylight found us
wrapped in our rubber blankets, cold, cross, and hungry. The head-quarter wagons were in the rear, but
Patrick brought up a quantity of coffee and a supply
of hard bread; there was patience, vigor, and refreshment in the draught, and the whole party brightened
up under its influence.
Again we started, moved a mile or two, to be again
halted, and so on all day. We were moving in a
northeasterly direction, toward the crossing of the
Rappahannock River, at Rappahannock Station, and
about noon marched through the village of Culpepper. Not far beyond we met Sigel's men, whose route
crossed our own, drawn up at the roadside, and our
general turned aside to pay his respects to their commander. We found him sitting under a tree, a not
very military-looking man, with a face full of character; having little indicating his rank upon his person,
but surrounded by a brilliant staff. Some of our own
staff had growled a little during this tedious day at
Sigel, probably without cause, the trouble being the
reported length of his wagon-train, which, as some asserted, stretched over eleven miles. For one, I was
not disposed to criticise, in this regard, one who seemed to be a fighting general.
Iotter and hotter poured down the rays of the
Southern sun, heavier and heavier weighed the knap                        D2 
82   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
sacks and accoutrements of the soldiers, more and
more tedious became our slow marching and frequent
halts. These halts were not good bona fide rests,
wherein a soldier could really take his ease, unsling
his knapsack, and make himself comfortable for a given period, but deceptive stoppages, which might last
three minutes or half an hour, and which thus kept
every one in a state of expectant preparation. Every
spring, pool, and rivulet within half a mile of our route
was eagerly sought for, though it was not so pleasant,
after all, to quench one's thirst with water muddied by
the men and horses who had gone before us.
What made this long, weary marching and halting
more tedious was the consciousness that we were on a
retreat, and were seeking to put the Rappahannock
between us and the pursuing enemy. The weary
watch of the previous night, the heat, and dust, and
fatigue, were not half so depressing as the feeling that
we were falling back. As I rode up and down the
column, or rested my tired horse under a shade-tree
at the roadside, near the men who had flung themselves down for a moment's rest during a temporary
halt, this feeling of depression made itself manifest in
quip and sarcasm, which awoke occasionally a little
forced mirth, but oftener a growl of discomfort. It
did me good to meet here and there a laughing philosopher in uniform, a Yankee Mark Tapley, who
prided himself in being jolly under the most adverse
circumstances.  Where such a man marched, there
was quite a different tone through the entire company.
On a march like this, the men usually fare better,
and have better sleeping arrangements than their offi
0 
CEDAR MOUNTAIN TO THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 83
cers, as the latter are very apt to trust every thing to
the wagons, while the former always have their sleeping tents and marching rations with them. We have
already seen how, by other methods, they manage to
supply their commissariat. At every wayside hovel
to-day its occupants were busy in baking hoe-cakes,
which they sold at twenty-five cents. Chickens found
their way mysteriously into the haversacks of our
men. Wo to the inconsiderate sheep, or calf, or
porker who disported himself within their range of
vision. Quietly leaving the ranks on some pretense
or other, they stole off to the farm-houses within a
mile of the road, stopping long enough sometimes to
have a meal cooked for them, and then rejoining with
ease their slow-moving commands. Only the strictest
watch on the part of the company officers can prevent
this straggling, and several times to-day I felt it necessary to arrest it. Our volunteers are usually perfectly willing to pay for what they eat, but seem determined to have it any how, and the people generally acquiesced in the proposed exchange of edibles
for greenbacks.
Of course, when discovered marauding, they are
never at a loss for excuses, and sometimes the excuse is so droll that one is compelled to laugh in spite
of himself. A private, for example, is seen coming
through a field, with his gun on one shoulder and
half a sheep on the other. Halted and compelled to
account for this novel military accoutrement, he salutes very respectfully, and, with demure countenance,
asseverates that he had to kill this sheep in self-defense; that he was walking through a field, having
had permission to leave the ranks to fill his canteen, 
84   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
when this hostile animal, on seeing his Northern uniform, at once charged upon him with great fury, and
one or the other had to die. The absurdity of the
plea compels a smile, and the wag too often gets off
under cover of his joke, to divide his plunder with his
comrades, and feast upon it at the evening camp-fire.
The longest day and the weariest march must have
an end, and by-and-by the welcome sunset came to
temper the heated atmosphere and revive the spirits
of the men. With a few hard crackers and spring
water I had appeased my hunger during the day,
and when at length we halted, about 10 P.M., the
first and only craving was for a little sleep. Our
horses were tied to the fence by the roadside, the
known proximity of the enemy forbidding their being
unsaddled. We spread our rubber blankets closely,
and, with overcoats for covering, were soon asleep.
One of our staff had accustomed himself to sleep with
his horse's halter attached to his own leg. I confess
that to this highly prudent measure I had insuperable
objections. The night was damp and cool, and our
sleep restless and chilly, from want of sufficient clothing. This dumping-down by a muddy roadside is not
suggestive of special comfort, but we were thoroughly
tired out, and had reached a point when sleep, no
matter how uncomfortable, was a necessity. Once or
twice during the night, as I tried to adjust my somewhat abbreviated bed-covering, a vision of my comfortable bed at home would intrude; but, before I
could fill out the picture, I was again sound asleep on
a mud-bank in Virginia.
Very early next morning, before it was fully day,'
we made our toilets with a shake and a homoeopathic 
CEDAR MOUNTAIN TO THE RAPPAHANNOCK.  85
ablution at a neighboring pool, and were ready for
breakfast. But, alas! this was to resemble the classic
draught of Tantalus; only the Grecian had this advantage, that he could behold what he longed for,
while, as to our breakfast, we could not even see it.
Our wagons were in the rear; our saddle-bag lunches
had been devoured. No officer likes to ask a soldier
for a cup of coffee or a portion of his slender rations,
so we growled a little together and fasted.
It was understood that our Virginia friend, General
Lee, was hastening after us, anxious to cultivate a nearer acquaintance, and our column was soon in motion.
Being ordered to make some arrangements for the
brigade, I rode on ahead, passing the rest of our division, reached the Rappahannock in about an hour, and
joined the long procession crossing the railroad bridge,
the wagons crossing at the ford below.
Rappahannock Station was so crammed with troops
that it was difficult to move along through the mile
square of men, horses, and artillery, rather a chaotic
mass at present - the different divisions having hurriedly pushed in during the night and morning-but
sure to crystallize after a while into military order.
How to find any body in such a crowd was a serious
problem.  Regiments knew not their next-field neighbors. The road was full of staff officers and men, every one with his questioning cap on, and seeking the
whereabouts of this or that command. Amid this great
crowd I was a stranger, and only after a plentiful use
of interrogations was I able to discover the proposed
location of our brigade.
This accomplished, I started to push my way back
through the masses of troops, when I bethought me
.1 
86    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
that a cup of coffee would be in order. Every wagon
that bore any resemblance to a sutler's shop was ea gerly examined, the faces of the little parties of officers
who were eating their breakfasts all about me were
eagerly scanned, but among them I recognized no former acquaintance. Finally, becoming desperate, I accosted some teamsters who seemed to be abundantly
supplied with coffee, which they were cooking at a
little fire, and offered them a generous sum for one
draught of the refreshing beverage. Their response
was as courteous as it was hospitable; all pecuniary
reward was rejected; and so I took my horseback
breakfast of coffee and hard bread with thorough zest
and enjoyment. Perhaps no act of kindly hospitality
I ever enjoyed has left upon me so pleasant an impression.
Of course, I felt now like a new man, and pushed
my way through the crowded street with entire equanimity. Reaching the railroad bridge, I saw our brigade crossing, reported to the general, and then paused
a while to witness the passage of the bridge and ford
by the crowd of troops and wagons. Our brigade was
one of the last to cross, and it was soon evident that
they were not an hour too soon; for, while I sat on a
little elevation which overlooked the bridge, I saw a
long line of dust rising above the trees which skirted
the plain on the other side of the river, and indicating
the approach of the enemy. Shortly after a squadron
of horsemen, a portion of the cavalry which had protected the rear of our column, emerged from the woods
and followed on slowly toward the bridge. Suddenly I saw them turn, and with loud yells charge back
into the woods upon a foe invisible to me, but which 
CEDAR MOUNTAIN TO THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 87
I learned afterward was the advance cavalry of the enemy.  The charging squadron belonged to the Harris
Light Cavalry, with whose field officers I had become
acquainted, and this little game of charging and falling back had been their pleasant occupation for the
past forty-eight hours. During this service, one of
them, an occasional visitor at our staff mess, was taken
prisoner, but escaped by disabling his captors during
the next mrelee. For adventure, excitement, and variety, the life of a cavalry officer may certainly claim
pre-eminence.
Not long after our pickets were driven in by the
rebel advance, our cavalry crossed the river, and the
Rappahannock flowed between us and the enemy.
Lk 
88   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER IX.
ARTILLERY DUEL AT RAPPAHANNOCK STATION.
EDNESDAY, August 20th. The Rappahannock
now interposed as a formidable barrier against
the advancing rebel army; its fords were at once commanded by our artillery, and there was an opportunity
for our weary cohorts to enjoy a little rest. It was
believed that the enemy, whose design was either to
cut us off from Washington or to attack us with greatly disproportionate force before we could effect a junction with M'Clellan's army, now en route from the
Peninsula, would at once make a desperate effort to
cross the river, and to-day was therefore one of busy
preparation for his proper reception. Our general had
taken for head-quarters an empty mansion just outside
the village, our troops were encamped in some fields
opposite, rations were distributed, and the accumulated arrears of head-quarter business attended to. A
lower room was used as the office, another as messroom, while our cots were spread in the upper chambers. A brigade staff is expected at such a time to
exercise the virtue of hospitality, and several other
officers partook with us of the products of Patrick's
culinary skill.
Meanwhile the enemy was hurrying up his troops,
and by nightfall it was probable that the whole rebel
army filled the woods on the opposite side of the river. Our own, M'Dowell's corps, faced them in the 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT RAPPAlHANNOCK STATION. 89
centre at the Station, Sigel's corps was on our right,
and Banks and Reno on our left, the whole line extending some half a dozen miles. Batteries were posted at every available position, pickets lined each river
bank, and both armies, grimly facing each other, were
glad to spend that night in preparatory sleep.
The next morning, August 21st, the enemy opened
upon us with shot and shell, hoping probably to dislodge our artillery, demoralize our infantry, and seize
a favorable moment to push across under cover of his
own fire.  But he reckoned without his host.  Scarcely had the echo of his first gun ceased to reverberate
before our batteries commenced a heavy cannonade,
sweeping the opposite bank with an iron torrent more
difficult for his infantry to cross than even the Rappahannock. Our own infantry were at once ordered
down to support the batteries, and be ready to oppose
any attempt to force the passage of the river. As we
moved across the plain, the shell bursting over our
heads, and the shot screaming in our yvery ears, I can
not say that I enjoyed the situation.  Now for the first
time under fire, I had not become accustomed to the
shrill whizzing music of the iron projectile. IHad I
been alone, I should probably have given my horse a
chance to try his speed in the opposite direction; as
it was, I had to "'grin horridly a ghastly smile," and
carry it bravely, as if charmed with these yelling messengers of war. I confess that I was not sorry when
we reached the bluff, behind which we were comparatively safe, and could hear them shriek over us with
entire equanimity.
Our brigade was now ordered to lie down, and had
niothing to do but to keep still and do nothing. An 
90    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
other brigade of our division was posted in the woods
and cornfields below this bluff; the sharpshooters on
the river brink exchanged the leaden compliments of
war with the rebel sharpshooters opposite; but no attempt was made to cross the river; no advance on our
part was ordered; and, instead of performing wondrous
feats of patriotic daring, we had only to listen to the
shrieking music overhead.  Even this soon lost its
power to interest us. I saw no damage done in our
immediate vicinity, nor in my little excursions of curiosity did I remark any thing worthy of record. A
number of batteries, with infantry in blue behind them,
on our side the river, were keeping up a noisy duel
with a number of batteries on the other side, backed
by infantry in gray, and the affair became, after a
while, a little tedious. Behind us were our main body
and reserves, ready for action at a moment's notice;
and the iron storm howled on, plowing the fields in the
rear with shot and shell, until night found us still under arms, and nothing had been done. As the enemy
were trying to get at us, and not we at them, this was
very satisfactory, though differing somewhat from my
anticipations of battle.
With the darkness came a lull; at length the cannonading ceased, our men stacked arms and wrapped
themselves in their blankets, and the general and staff
prepared to follow their example. I was not sorry
when the din and hurly-burly was over. Patrick had
established his head-quarters in the rear, and our orderlies brought us down some supper; we then spread
out our India-rubber blankets, made common stock of
our woolen ones, and were soon asleep. 
All this was very comfortable; but I had hardly 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT RAPPAHANNOCK STATION. 91
sunk into oblivion when I was rudely awakened by
feeling on my face heavy drops of driving rain. Some
of my fellow-lodgers covered up their heads and let it
rain; but, being constitutionally opposed to semi-suffocation, this was to me an impossibility. Rising hastily, I groped about in the darkness, tumbling over a
sleeper or two on the way, until I stumbled fortunately
upon an ambulance. The interior was occupied by a
general officer as his bedchamber, but I at once secured
lodgings beneath him on the ground floor. The four
sides of my sleeping apartment were open to the storm,
and my bed unpleasantly liable to inundation, but I
had at least a roof over my head, and could sleep without the patter of rain-drops on my face. Very soon
I had a companion in my friend the major, who, having tried in vain to fight the storm outside, concluded to follow my example. Swathed in India-rubber
cloth, we bade defiance to the rain, and a judicious arrangement of limbs enabled us to sleep quite comfortably.
Very early next morning our brigade was marched
a mile or two down the river, and took position much
nearer to its bank.  The artillery on both sides were
already busily engaged, and as we moved by I saw
lying near our new position the dead bodies of two of
the sharpshooters of our division, sadly mangled by
shell. These sharpshooters are picked men, and the
sight of their fine, manly-looking frames now stretched
lifeless upon the sward shocked and impressed me.
Their comrades had already taken charge of their
knapsacks and other property, but near one of them I
picked up part of a letter stained with his blood. How
the sight carried me back to the Northern homes, ere
I.11 
92    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
long to be darkened by the shadow of this day's casualty! As I stood in this sad presence, and felt, as
never so much before, how wicked was the devilish
ambition which impelled the master spirits of the
South to attack their country, it was hard to keep
back the utterance of indignant curses against the
whole traitor brood.
Our brigade spent this day quietly like the last, lying down in line of battle in rear of the little elevation crowned by our batteries; our horses were held
by orderlies, and we passed most of the day on the
crest, watching the effect of our artillery fire, and seeking to spy out the enemy's position. There was not,
however, much to see; occasionally a horseman or two
would emerge from the woods where lay concealed
the rebel infantry, and take a look at us, but the position of their batteries was indicated chiefly by the
smoke from the guns. Our own artillerymen did their
work as coolly and systematically as if firing a salute,
now elevating, now depressing their pieces, eagerly
watching for opportunities to fire, wholly unmindful
of the missiles hurled at them by the enemy. Our
general had not forgotten his military art, and occasionally lent his aid in sighting the guns or advising
as to the length of fuse.
Our infantry had now become so accustomed to this
artillery duel that they interested themselves mainly
in speculating as to the exact spot where the enemny's
projectiles passing over their heads would strike in
the field beyond. At one time a solid shot struck
close to the top of the little crest, plowed up the ground,
and still had sufficient momentum to roll "directry
down among our men. Neither yesterday nor to-day
k- 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT RAPPAHANNOCK STATION. 93
had I observed any indications of cowardice, except,
perhaps, in a single instance. But I needed not this
experience to convince me that man is not a cowardly
animal, for all history teaches that, no matter what his
nationality, if he be well led, he is usually only too
ready to accept the wager of battle. It had been my
fortune to witness some grotesque caricatures of war
among the Chinese at Shaughae, when rebels and Imperialists fought for the possession of that city; but
even they, when properly drilled and officered, have
been found capable of stubborn resistance. Emerson
declares that "a great part of courage is the courage
of having done the thing before;" and it is true that
we, who were novices, felt more nonchalant during
to-day's cannonading. We had already begun to be
quite indifferent to artillery at long range, the probability of our being hit seeming to equal that of our
being struck by lightning.
Of course, there is great sustaining power in the
sense of religious duty, the incitement of personal pride,
the influence of military discipline, and the tie of military association.  A brave man once said, "We are
all cowards in the dark;" and I noticed, at Rappahannock and elsewhere, among the civil attaches of
our brigade, officers' servants, grooms, and the like,
who were neither led by patriotic duty nor coerced by
discipline to expose themselves, who had no uniform
to disgrace, no military pride to sustain, a shrinking
under fire not manifested by the soldier. This shrinking did not depend upon color, as I saw it in white as
well as black; but, as most of these attendants were
of the latter complexion, it led some of us to leap to
the rash conclusion that the race was naturally cow 
94    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ardly. Such is not now my opinion. Most of them
remained with us through the whole of this retreat,
and accompanied us into Maryland, a thing I am quite
sure I should not have done had I been in their position. One poor fellow, however, a servant of one of
our regimental colonels, was completely overcome by
his fears, and awoke the colonel several times during
last night with stories each more fearful than the last,
while a few disappeared to-day, having had quite
enough of war. With no country to fight for which
was willing to acknowledge them, ten dollars a month
paid them very indifferently for the rough work of a
campaign with its present accompaniments of shot and
shell. For one, I do not wonder at their leaving.
A quarter of a mile to our left, and close to the
river, a Maine battery was posted; several of its gunners had been disabled by wounds, and some of the
soldiers of our brigade volunteered to fill their vacant
places. About noon I rode down to visit this battery, and to see how the river was held in that direction. As I passed the infantry supports, making
themselves comfortable in the woods near which the
battery was posted, I fortunately encountered a party
of their field officers indulging in an old-fashioned
chicken stew. No introduction, under the circumstances, was required.  "Will you have the leg of a
chicken?" said a major.  "Yes, indeed, and many
thanks," was my earnest reply; and I enjoyed heartily that lunch in the saddle-a bit of literal hospitality. My lunch over, I found that the Sons of Maine
were getting on well, and soon returned to the brigade.
In the woods below us, on the right, Hatch's brigade had meantime been engaged in skirmishing, and 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT RAPPAHANNOCK STATION. 95
we heard at intervals considerable musketry. How
much of a fight was going on we could only conjecture; but not long after one of their prisoners was
brought up to the spot where we were sitting, who
belonged to a party of the enemy's cavalry which had
crossed during the night. He seemed quite overcome
by his late experiences, and stammered out, "Why,
gentlemen, I never was so frightened in all my life!
How much better you all are dressed than our officers! Have you got any whisky?"  Becoming gradually calmer, he was quite communicative. It seems
that his party had been lurking in the woods, whence
they were dislodged by our skirmishers.
As I was sitting on the crest this afternoon, gazing
at the opposite side of the river through a good fieldglass, and waiting for something to turn up, I saw a
brigade of rebels emerge from some woods, form in
line of battle, and move rapidly across a vacant plain
toward the belt of timber skirting the river bank.
They were half way across, and just about to disappear from view, when one of our shells exploded in
their ranks, cutting the line in two. I saw some fall,
others ran back, but the brigade pushed on, and was
soon sheltered behind the belt of timber. Afterward
I saw their wounded moving slowly off to the rear.
In my morbid and overstrained state of mind, this
sight impressed me not half so much as many a scene
on the mimic stage. The only feeling was one of
anxious curiosity for the next act of the battle-drama.
We had noticed during the afternoon heavy clouds
of dust across the river rising over the road leading
toward our right, and at one spot, where the road
wound over an exposed hill-side, we saw the continu
k- L
I 
96    THIE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ous movement of army wagons in the same direction.
Unable to force the passage of the river at this point,
it seemed probable that the enemy proposed a flank
movement, and during the afternoon his fire slackened, and he withdrew his batteries. So, after darkness
had come to veil our position, one or two of our tents
were brought down and pitched on the field, and one
of our aids, in the absence of Patrick, cooked for us a
very respectable supper. The men had put up their
shelter-tents early in the day, and were now allowed
to light a few fires, where they fried their pork and
made coffee, enjoying heartily the little lull after the
iron storm. Of course, we were all early to bed and
soon asleep. But shortly after midnight the general
received intelligence from another general officer that
the enemy were -making evident preparations to force
the passage at daybreak. Care was taken not to awaken the troops; our little arrangements were quickly made, and then I laid down and dozed the night
away.
By daybreak the men were aroused and had their
breakfasts, but no summons to advance troubled us.
So quiet and still, indeed, was the morning, that the
general allowed our tents to remain, and we partook
of a hearty meal. I then went to my tent, placidly
rejoicing in the prospect of a little tranquillity, when,
just as I was making up my mind to send for my
writing-desk, the air was once more full of rebel thunderbolts, bursting and screaming overhead. To bring
in the staff horses from the rear, strike tents, pack
head-quarter wagons, and start them off out of range,
was the work of five minutes; and once more we were
homeless, our hopes of a day's quiet rudely dispelled. 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT RAPPAHANNOCK STATION. 97
To me it was a great disappointment, for last night's
broken sleep had left me craving for a little rest; our
artillery duel had lost its excitement-had, in fact, become a good deal of a bore.
It was only a third edition of the old story, and
nothing came of it except a good deal of noise. Having occasion later in the morning to ride over to the
railroad station, I witnessed the fierce cannonading
near the bridge which ended this artillery duel. The
fire at the point opposite the position of our brigade
had already slackened, and the main interest had centred at this portion of the field. Perhaps half a dozen
batteries on each side were on the rampage, firing as
fast as the men could load; and as I had to pass in
range, and at certain points the shot and shell seemed
endeavoring to see how near they could come without
striking, I did not pause long to admire the scenery.
Arrived at the station, I found that the commissariat
d6p6t had been given up, while all through the adjacent fields and among the buildings lay numbers of
shot and shell now robbed of their terror, some of
which had left their mark in broken walls and pierced
roofs.
On my return I joined a group of officers who were
standing on a hill-side out of the line of fire, and had a
good look at the artillery tournament, which filled the
air with smoke-circlets from the bursting shells. As
I stood here I witnessed a rebel regiment charge up a
hill not far from the bridge, on the other side of the
river, which was crowned with a redoubt. The officers waved their swords, the men cheered and pushed
quickly up the ascent, while our batteries played
fiercely upon them, but without any visible effect. To
E
I 
98    THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
me the scene was truly exciting, for I supposed that
the-redoubt must be occupied by our men, though I
was a good deal surprised that any were still on that
side the river. Every instant I expected to see the
.rebel lines waver  efore the volleys of our troops.
Still up, up they pushed; the top was nearly gained;
surely there will be crossing of bayonets; but no! they
mounted the parapet unopposed, and disappeared behind the breastworks. It was only an empty redoubt,
after all, and I had wasted'all my anxiety.
With this parting benison, the batteries on both sides
soon ceased fire, and the three days' duel was over;
three days of enormous expenditure of ammunition,
with little loss of life on our side; three precious days
to our army, however, and to the country, for every
hour that we delayed the enemy's advance was needed
by the Army of the Potomac to effect its escape from
the Peninsula and hasten to our rescue. And now it
is fully time to push to the right to prevent the enemy
flanking us in that direction. Sigel, who has been
holding the rebel wolf at bay above us, is now marching rapidly northward along'the river bank, keeping
his front ranks well dressed by those of the enemy opposite, while our own corps is ordered to Warrenton,
a central position, to be ready for a new move on the
strategic chess-board.
.1 
FROM RAPPABAANOCK TO WARRENTON.   99
CHAPTER X.
FROM RAPPAHANNOCK TO WARRENTON.
THiE supply trains of our corps had been sent un     der guard to Catlett's Station two days before,
lest a temporary success of the enemy should endanger their safety; but the ammunition and ambulance
trains, with the regimental and head-quarter wagons,
still remained with us, and were quite enough to block
up the roads, now in bad condition from the late rains.
Virginia has some good turnpikes, but most of her
roads become mortar-beds of mud after every rain, especially when ground up by the long wagon-trains of
an army. Few are probably aware how very cumbersome these trains are. Even when the transportation
is reduced to its minimum standard, a division of ten
thousand men will require something like forty ammunition and fifty forage and subsistence wagons,
twenty or thirty ambulances, and about sixty regimental and head-quarter wagons, drawn by four and
six horses or mules. And for each of these animals
forage must be drawn; so that, if we will calculate
the transportation, we will find its increase to be in a
sort of arithmetical progression. Thus I have seen it
stated that the wagon-train of the army of the Potomac would extend at least fifty miles.
Various plans have been suggested to lessen this
serious impediment to an army's rapid movement,
but the naked fact always remains that so many tons 
100  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
avoirdupois of ammunition, subsistence, and forage
must be transported. The French in Algeria carried
their supplies in ox-carts, killing the oxen for rations,
and cutting up the empty carts to cook them; but
this method is decidedly too slow for us. Some have
thought that pack-horses or mules, or light two-horse
carts, would best serve the purpose; but probably our
present mode of transportation is, on the whole, the
most advantageous, every thing being considered. A
judicious use of all these various methods would undoubtedly be advisable under certain circumstances.
One important fact touching this question of transportation differences our own country from Europe,
and forbids any proper parallelisms or fair comparisons between an American and a European campaign.
Europe is densely populated and highly cultivated,
and a general is thus able to march hundreds of miles
from any special base of supply, subsisting his men
upon provisions found in the cities and agricultural
districts of his enemy. In our own country, with its
immense tracts of uncultivated and sparsely-settled
land, one of the first questions which confronts a general, when planning a campaign, is, How shall I get
supplies to my men? Poor, impoverished Virginia,
for example, is hardly able, in many districts, to keep
the breath of life in her own children, and there is
probably not surplus food enough in the rebel portion
of the state to subsist our army for a week. Let any
one take his map, and see how sparsely settled are the
Southern states, and what a large portion of the land
susceptible of profitable cultivation is devoted to the
culture of cotton and sugar, and he will be able to
foresee the probable fate of an army which attempts 
FROM RAPPAHANNOCK TO WARRENTON. 101
to march through these states without cumbersome
wagon-trains. I know of but one way to avoid this
despair of quarter-masters, and that is by simply
avoiding war altogether.
Unless while moving over well-graded roads, one
hundred feet is about the space required by each long,
cloth-covered wagon and its team, and thus the trains
of a division will extend over some three miles of road.
If a trace break in the narrow roadway, the division in rear is delayed until it is mended; if a wheel
come off, the troops behind must halt until it is replaced. At one spot this afternoon we were stopped
for half an hour, and, on riding forward, I found that
our delay was due solely to the breaking down of an
ambulance in a narrow gorge. It was finally concluded by the quarter-master to elbow the vehicular
wreck off of the road, and so at last the brigade moved
on.
Half past eight o'clock found us at a stand-still in
the desperately muddy road about a mile south of
Warrenton.  Here we halted for a long half hour, until, when our patience was well-nigh exhausted, orders
came to our general to encamp the brigade just where
we were. On one side of the road was a hill so steep
that the men could with difficulty clamber up it; on
the other a low, marshy bog; it looked as if, after
their weary march, they would have to sleep perpendicularly on the one side, or flounder in the water on
the other. It was, however, too dark to seek a better
position; the men soon tore down the fences and
mounted to their bivouac, while the mud-hole on the
left was taken for our head-quarters.
Supper there was none, as our wagons were in rear; 
102   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the marsh was so uninviting that at every step I sank
deeply intQ the mire; and the only resource left us
was to find a dry spot to lie in and seek oblivion in
sleep. Two ambulances were speedily converted into
bedchambers, and in one of them I was soon shelved,
in company with my friend the adjutant general;
there was just room enough-not a square inch to
spare.
Sunday, August 24th. Shortly after sunrise I forced
myself out of the ambulance in which I had been
wedged, and at once rode into Warrenton. Our supply train being at Catlett's Station, the men had exhausted their supply of rations, and there was not a
moment to be lost in replenishing their haversacks.
It was during this campaign that Sigel is said to have
remarked, "A biscuit is worth just now more than a
bayonet," and I was now feeling very anxious in this
regard. As I rode through the pleasantly shaded
streets of Warrenton this quiet Sunday morning, the
home look of its many handsome residences made, I
must confess, the heart of one hungry campaigner ache
for the moment with memories of certain pleasant
homes like these nearer to the north star. But this
was not the time or place for the indulgence of sentiment. The streets were already patroled by our
troops, and, having visited the railway station to find
it closed and cheerless, I hurried to division headquarters at the Warren Green Hotel.
Hiere I learned that a wagon-train was hourly expected from Warrenton Junction, and also that a large
force had been at work on the railroad all night, so
that supplies would arrive over this route by noon.
Not twenty-four hours had elapsed since the enemy 
FROM RAPPAHANNOCK TO WARRENTOi.  103
had occupied Warrenton and been driven out by our
advance, and yet, so firm was my faith in the admirable management of the commissariat department, I
felt quite sure that our hungry corps would not be left
dinnerless even to-day. So I posted a mounted orderly on the road over which the wagon-train must enter,
and another at the d6pot, with orders to notify me immediately of the approach of the looked-for food, and
then felt ready to make my own toilet, have my horse
cared for, and sit down to breakfast at the hotel.
Fresh bread and bona fide milk and butter made
my meal luxurious, and my breakfast certainly put a
new aspect upon the face of affairs. At its conclusion
I inspected the hotel register, and noticed among the
arrivals yesterday the names of several Confederate officers. The visits of these gentlemen must have been
of the briefest, and their departures slightly hurried,
for close upon their footsteps were our own cavalry,
and close upon their autographs were various others
with the significant initials U.S. A.  Mine host was
courteous but cold, and it was evident that his vision
had not yet become accustomed to the sudden transition from the gray uniforms of his late guests to the
Union blue which now filled his hotel.
About nine o'clock I heard the music of a band filling the street, and rode out to see my own brigade
move by. The troops were marching in their best
style, filling the street from curb to curb, and evidently bent on making a good impression upon the fair
rebels of Warrenton. They were going into camp
about two miles out of town; so I reported to the general, and returned to my waiting-post on the piazza of
the hotel. These were lively days for the little War
11 
104   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ren Green. Generals Pope, M'Dowell, and other general officers quartered here, with their respective staffs;
the space in front was crowded with orderlies and
staff horses, and the spacious piazza became a military
exchange, where one could hear the thousand and one
rumors ever prevalent during a campaign. I have
seen a dozen generals conversing here together, and
made the pleasant acquaintance of many officers whom
I might never have met during the necessary separations of active service. Here I saw a late newspaper
-a rare privilege-and heard for the first time of the
resolve of the rebel Congress to deny to Pope's officers
the usual rights and courtesies of prisoners of wara pleasant little piece of intelligence just at this time.
The residents of Warrenton were, as far as we could
judge, wholly sympathetic with the rebel cause, several respectable gentlemen with whom I conversed today frankly admitting it, with a little negative qualification by way of courtesy. One man, who expressed
sentiments I have frequently heard in Virginia, spoke
in somewhat this wise: "I was utterly opposed to secession, and wish Massachusetts and South Carolina
could have fought this matter out together; but when
the North invaded Virginia, why, of course, there was
no help for us; we had to fight in self-defense." It
may be that these people deceive themselves, and that
this absurd plea is only the soporific with which they
seek to justify to themselves their suicidal act of folly.
Still it was evident that they had not caught the disease of treason wholly from South Carolina inoculation-had, indeed, a good deal of jealousy against this
pestilent little pepper-pot community-but had drawn
in part of the malignant virus with their mothers' 
FROM RAPPAHANOCK TO WARRENTONe  105
milk from the old state-right heresies of their fathers.
One can not but regret the belittling influence of an
education which thus limits the vision of a Virginian
by the natural boundaries of his own state, and makes
him blind to his rights and privileges as a member of
one of the most powerful and progressive nations on
the globe. A man can have, it would seem, only a
limited range of thought and reflection, small fellowship with great ideas, and little sympathy with those
progressive principles which make up the philosophy
of history, who could thus forget that he is one of a
great people, to whom God has manifestly given the
ownership and occupancy of a continent; who could
thus sit, like Diogenes of old, in his little tub of staterights, anxious only that the sun should warm his own
homestead, and perfectly willing to abandon the grand
heritage of rights, duties, and destinies which belongs
to him as an American citizen. All honor to the native Southerners who, having had large experience of
foreign lands, having seen their country's flag float
proudly beside the haughtiest banners of earth, have
felt their hearts expand to a patriotic love of the whole
country, and now are among the proudest ornaments
of that navy to whose splendid bravery we owe so
mucehuring this war.
As for the women, they were, as far as my very
limited observation extended, nonchalant, courteous,
and perfectly assured of the success of the rebel cause.
One of them gave me an interesting description of the
passage of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry through the town;
how she stood on the front balcony waving two Confederate flags, and how the Union soldiers, on their entrance, searched for them in vain-all this in as easy a
E2
L9,
.1 
106 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
tone as if speaking of a late ball. I fancied that these
Southern ladies had not so great a dread of war, were
not so alive to its horrors-in short, took it more natu rally than the women of the North; but I may be mis taken.
But these experiences of Warrenton, gathered during this and another visit months later, have drawn
me from the due course of my narrative. About noon
the expected train did arrive, and our brigade was the
first one served in the entire corps. My friend the issuing commissary had certainly a lively time of it.
He had supplied us at Culpepper; he had followed us
to Rappahannock, and probably stood waiting this
morning, hardly willing to hold in his iron horse long
enough to allow the workmen to hammer the last rivet into the last rail before he came driving headlong
toward Warrenton. He had an enthusiastic reception.
His office and sleeping-room were in a car, and he frequently was compelled to keep steam up ready to run
at a moment's notice. A month or two afterward he
wrote to me that the rebels had caught his locomotive
at last, and burned up his papers; but he himself had
fortunately escaped.
As I rode out to camp, having finished my Sunday's
business, I found the charming hill-sides north o;Warrenton full of troops, and passed Generals Pope and
M'Dowell sitting on an elevation looking toward the
northeast, where Sigel now watched the enemy. Our
tents were already pitched in a pleasant grove; Patrick was working con amore at the kitchen camp-fire,
and we were permitted to enjoy the latter part of Sunday as a day of rest-a privilege appreciated by both'
officers and men.
I 
FROM RAPPAHANNOCK TO WARRENTON. 107
Our brigade rested quietly next day in this location,
but at nightfall came orders to move out at daybreak
to the Warrenton Springs, on the banks of the Rappahannock. The general feeling was that to-morrow
we were certainly to meet the enemy.
p
I 
108 THE BIVOUAC AND THIE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XI.
ARTILLERY DUEL AT WARRENTON SPRINGS.
UESDAY, August 26th. A  lovely morning, and
at daybreak our division, fully rested and in firstrate condition, leaving the regimental wagons, and accompanied only by the ambulances, with two days' rations and an extra supply of ammunition, marched
down to Warrenton Springs, a distance of seven miles.
Sigel had already had a passing brush with the enemy at this point, had burned the bridge over the Rappahannock, and was now facing their leading divisions
farther up river. Our column had not moved a mile
before the sound of the cannonading was distinctly
audible, and some of the inexperienced began to congratulate themselves on the prospect of their first
pitched battle. I have never known our staff more
jubilant. I may remark, in passing, that this ignorant
enthusiasm of the unfledged warrior, like the measles
and other infantile diseases, is not apt to attack a man
very violently more than once. It is not true, as a
general thing, that after his first battle a man grows
careless as to its perils, or is less aware of its tragic
possibilities. The experience of those who have stood
unflinchingly and fought bravely through a dozen battles attests the contrary.  The participation in such
tragic scenes usually gives a man more self-reliance,
determination, coolness, and renders him less liable to
it 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT WARRENTON SPRINGS. 109
sudden panic; but it is apt, at the same time, to temper his former eagerness, and cause him to regard a
battle as about the most serious business in which he
can engage.
Onward, through a region too picturesque to be a
fitting arena for destructive war, moved our column,
the music of the artillery growing louder as we approached the river, until we could see the smokewreaths of the bursting shells, and hear them wailing
through the air. The different brigades were turned
off from the road into the fields on either hand; our
own, moving to the left, marched over an open space
where the rebel shot flew all about us, passing just
high enough, however, to injure no one. We were
finally drawn up in line of battle behind a slight roll
in the surface, which afforded sufficient shelter against
the fire of the batteries, and the men laid down on
their arms.
And this was the entertainment to which we had
advanced with so much eagerness-  only this, and
nothing more. Lookers - on, not participants, with
hardly risk enough to make the scene exciting, with
no appeal to our own exertions, we were only spectators, while the gunners had all the tragedy to themselves. The general and staff now dismounted; the
sun was hot, and the field destitute of shade-trees; the
prospect was, on the whole, by no means enlivening.
Shortly after our arrival a detail was made from each
regiment of the brigade, and the detachment, one
hundred and fifty strong, under command of a major,
moved down into the belt of woods skirting the river,
where they deployed as skirmishers. Each man selected his position, anxious not to expose too freely 
110   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
his own person, keeping his musket on the full cock,
and eagerly scanning the opposite bank, so as to be
ready for any skirmisher in gray who might show himself. At various intervals during the day the skirmishers had rather a lively time of it.
Some of the staff were permitted to advance on foot
nearer to the river, where we could better scan the
enemy's position. The duel was not so extended or
so severely fought as that at Rappahannock Station,
there being at this particular point not more than half
a dozen batteries engaged on each side. What strategic advantage the enemy expected to gain by wasting
so much ammunition here, unless they hoped in this
way to detain our main body and thus afford opportunity for a flanking movement on our right, I could
not conjecture. They had lined the opposite bank
with skirmishers, but made no important infantry demonstration, contenting themselves with flinging over a
shower of projectiles, very few of which produced any
effect whatever.  One battery, posted close to a handsome residence near the river, was especially unremitting in its hostile attentions, and I enjoyed to-day the
sight of some fine artillery practice. Our major stood
a little way down the road, where, with his field-glass,
he could see exactly where our shots struck, and signalized by lifting or lowering his hand as to the proper elevation or depression of the pieces.  Several
times the enemy was compelled to change position;
several times I saw our shot strike right in among his
guns. He was not slow in returning the compliment,
but usually aimed too high.
On the river bank, and between our batteries andc
those of the enemy, were the extensive buildings and
i
i
I 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT WARRENTON SPRINGS. 111
grounds of the Warrenton Springs, a favorite watering place for Virginians. Having been deprived of
any summer visit to springs or sea-side resort, and
curious to see the place where the first families once
disported themselves, I had been aching all the morning with the desire to drink of this well-known water.
It is true that there were certain drawbacks in the
way of a visit just at this time, especially for a quiet
man, who might have no objection to be saluted as a
distinguished visitor, but would certainly prefer that
the saluting gunners would omit for this occasion the
accompanying iron. The buildings themselves were
quite below the range of the opposing batteries, so
that the main trouble was to approach and return in
safety.
There was no help for it; so at last I rode down
the road, and through a ravine to its right, keeping as
closely under cover as possible, until I reached a spot
where it seemed only courteous to the rebel gunners
to dismount, so as not to interfere with the free course
of the artillery duel by stopping any of their balls.
Tying my horse to a tree with a slight feeling of
doubt whether I should find him on my return, I
made a run for it over the " hot place," and was soon
descending toward the establishmenta point of comparative safety, though even here the wounded trees
and scattered shot indicated its proximity to trouble.
The main building was in ruins, having been burned within the past forty-eight hours, probably by our
own men. It formed one side of a large quadrangle,
the remaining sides consisting of halls and rows of
cottages, with the various kitchens and offices of a
large establishment.  Once very lovely, it was now 
112   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
like Virginia herself, in wreck and ruin-a speaking
monument of rebel madness. The spring bubbled up
in a reservoir covered in by a Virginio-Grecian temple with a statue of Health. A broken tumbler lay
on the tiled floor, and I drank a deep draught to the
success of the good cause, my toast being honored, as
at the Danish court in Hamlet's time, by the roar of
artillery. As I sat a moment in the well-room, striving to repeople this lovely haunt of Southern beauty,
the bough of a tree near by cracked so significantly
that I at once accepted the hint that it was time to retire; so, with the same caution as before, I made my
way back again to the staff, to excite their curiosity by
vivid description of the glories of Warrenton Springs.
The batteries kept up their din nearly all day,
except for an hour, during which a truce had been
agreed to at the request of the enemy, their avowed
object in sending the flag being to return a woman
dressed in military costume whom they had taken
prisoner. I was informed that during the pendency
of this truce a body of their sharpshooters, who had
been lying in rifle-pits close to the river, took the opportunity to escape from their hot position-a proceeding unfair in war.
Late in the afternoon I rode back to Warrenton on
official business, returning next morning in time for a
late breakfast. The brigade had passed the night
very comfortably. The morning was calm and still.
No note of war was heard from the opposite side of
the river, and soon it was ascertained that the force
lately opposed to us had followed the main body up
the river. Another move in the flanking game was
evidently intended; and it was time for us, if we did,
I
II
iI 
ARTILLERY DUEL AT WARRENTON SPRINGS. 113
not wish to be cut off from Washington and the Army
of the Potomac, to be pushing northward.
A long mnarch, of which I remember little save its
weariness, commencing about noon, carried us through
Warrenton, and so on in a northeasterly direction,
until in the evening we were pressing through the little village of New Baltimore. Near this point the
Pennsylvania Reserves joined our march, the first installment of the Army of the Potomac; their colors
torn with bullets, their thinned ranks and war-worn
aspect, as contrasted with their appearance when they
left us two months ago at Fredericksburg, attested the
severity of their Peninsular experiences.
Near New Baltimore the fields and woods were
lighted up with so many camp-fires that our staff imagined we were passing a brigade or division; and
one of them inquired, "What brigade is this encamped here?"  "Company Q, sir," responded a soldier,
complacently.  "Company Q" is the title given by
the army to the ignoble band of stragglers who follow
in the wake of an army, like sharks who swim in the
wake of a ship, anxious mainly to secure something
to eat.
About 11 P.M. we reached our halting-ground.
The night was pleasant; the regiments were soon
comfortably bivouacked. The adjutant general and
myself selected our tree-canopied couch of green
sward, spread our blankets, made our night toilet by
simply unbuckling our swords, and were soon asleep. 
114  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XII.
BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE.
HURSDAY, August  28th. Early this morning our
division was again in motion, marching through
a pleasant country on the road toward Centreville.
At twelve o'clock the men were halted for an hour or
two, in order to make coffee and rest a while during
the heat of the day. A pleasant bivouac it was, under the grateful shade of a chestnut grove; our horses
were unsaddled and allowed to graze, and our cooks
soon spread out on the grass before us a welcome
though frugal meal. Several guests joined our picnic
under the trees, the general was in his most humorous
vein, and we rested here two or three pleasant hours.
Certainly no one of us, as we reposed after our lunch,
placid and content, dreamed of the tragedy which was
to greet us before the sun went down.
It was late in the afternoon before we were summoned to the saddle, and the brigade ordered to advance. Hiardly had we proceeded a mile before the
sound of distant cannonading reached our ears, exciting, however, no very great curiosity. This music was
robbed of much of its impressiveness by sheer repetition; we had, indeed, quite gotten into the habit of artillery duels, and concluded that the parties making
such a din three or four miles ahead of us could attend to their own business. A subordinate in the'
army, no matter how deeply he may be interested in
i
t
i
I 
BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE.
the main result, soon learns to busy himself mainly in
the performance of his own immediate duties, not worrying himself much with matters outside his own
range.
About sunset we were a couple of miles, perhaps, beyond Gainesville; another brigade marched just ahead
of us, and we were now moving quietly and serenely
over a road sufficiently wide to permit our artillery
and infantry to move in parallel lines, no one having
any idea that a rebel was within a mile of us, and only
anxious to reach our destination. The sound of distant cannonading had now temporarily ceased, the sunset hour was very delightful, and my horse and I were
just wide awake enough to keep in the beaten road
and not much more. At this moment of sleepy calm,
when every body was least prepared for so stern a
summons to battle, bang! bang! bang! burst forth
upon us an iron-shotted salute from a deep-mouthed
rebel battery on a little elevation to the left, very near
the road. The enemy had gotten our range with such
accuracy that they seemed to be firing right down into
our faces, and in a second the shells were exploding
about us in fearful proximity.  I saw a horse knocked
over within a hundred feet of me, and it was startlingly evident that we were in a hot position. So sudden
a transition from a doze on horseback to the position
of target for rebel artillery exercise was by no means
agreeable to me. A few of our men, half a dozen perhaps, leaped the fence and ran through the fields toward the woods beyond, about as dangerous an excursion as they could have made, for the missiles of the
enemy, just escaping our heads, fell thick and fast in
these fields beyond. For a single instant the ranks
115
f
i 
116  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
paused, as if uncertain what to do. The general at
once thundered out, "Bring the van forward at double quick;" and double-quick it was for some five hund red feet, until we were out of range, with a thick
wood between us and the rebel batteries. Only one
other brigad6 of the division was near us-the 4th,
under the command of General Gibbon- General
Hatch being already engaged with another force of
the enemy two miles or more ahead of us, and Gener al Patrick's being at least a mile behind. A hurried
consultation now took place between the two brigade
commanders. Our division general was in the rear,
and no member of his staff was at hand to declare his
wishes. To accept this rebel insult in silence was not
to be thought of. It was resolved at once to move
up through the woods and storm the battery. On the
instant the fence was torn down by the pioneers, and
Gibbon's famous fighting brigade, the men of Wisconsin and Indiana, as gallant a set as ever pulled trigger,
pushed up through the woods in line of battle toward
the battery. As they disappeared from view among
the trees, up rode the gallant colonel of the 56th Pennsylvania, and, saluting our general, exclaimed, "Shall
we push in, general? my men are eager for the fray."
I could not help smiling at the familiar quotation, even
under the present exciting circumstances, for now the
sharp ping! ping! of the bullets began to sound in
our ears, indicating that this was no mere cavalry battery, but that the rebel infantry were coming into
action.
To such a question there could be no negative response. Deeply as our general felt the responsibility 
of going into action without orders from his division
I 
BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE.
commander, he could not see our sister brigade move
forward alone.  "Move in the 56th and 76th at once;
form in line of battle, and push up through the woods
to the support of Gibbon's men." At the word the
two regiments quit the road, enter the woods, and hurry up the gradual ascent. Only a few hundred feet,
however, for soon the crest is gained, and, at once advancing to the front, they form beside the other brigade, and are soon hotly engaged with the enemy. All
along the low ridge parallel with their position stand
double lines of the rebel infantry, wave after wave of
fire leaps from their serried ranks, and our boys begin
to fall like the leaves in autumn. Field and company
officers, and numbers of the gallant soldiers of either
brigade, soon crimson that hill-side with their blood;
almost at the first onset the Pennsylvania colonel is
wounded, a Wisconsin colonel receives his deathwound.  The combat is brief but terrible.
A portentous silence masks some woods on the left
close to our position; it is necessary to uncloak the
enemy if concealed therein, lest he flank us in that direction. The clergyman captain, of whom I spoke in
a former chapter, springs to the head of his company,
and leads them forward to draw the enemy's fire. Out
of'the quiet forest flashes the rebel volley; our captain, pierced by five bullets, falls faint and bleeding;
but the object is gained, and the enemy is driven from
his covert by good Union musketry. Some of our
boys, though wounded, refuse to qmuit the ranks, Martin Luther among the rest, worthy of his illustrious
name. And so the fight goes on. The men of the
West, brave add determined as they are, find that
their Eastern brothers are equally brave and determ
117
i 
118   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ined. Not one inch is given back, though the attacking force is greatly superior, nor will there be until
the fight is over.
As our two regiments entered the woods, the third
was ordered up to support a battery planted on the
bare crest of a field adjoining the woods on the right,
and hither those of the staff not otherwise employed
followed the general. The position commanded a
view of the rebel lines, and, as the general sat peering anxiously forward to be ready to meet any new
demonstration on the part of the enemy, the whole
scene was to me awfully exciting and impressive.
The shadows of night gradually descended, and it
seemed to me that I saw at least a mile of lightning
leaping from rebel muskets, while a perfect deluge of
rebel thunderbolts went crashing into the woods, or
came shrieking like fiends over and among us.  The
rattle of musketry was terrible and continuous- the
air seemed full of lead. Ah! it is the cruel music of
these bullets about his ears which most disturbs a
man's equanimity.  I have never been exposed to the
awful discharge ofgrape and canister, but the whirring of a musketry volley has always seemed to me
far more terrible than shot or shell.
During this fight occurred a pleasant instance of
presence of mind. A lieutenant of our brigade had,
with some of his men, been thrown out on the left
as a picket to notify of any attempt at a flanking
movement. While thus engaged, he saw in the dusk
a column of men, apparently in their shirt-sleeves,
hurrying up toward the rebel lines. "Who goes
there?" was his instant challenge.  "The 24th Vifginia," was the immediate response.  "All right!"
II
II
I
I
t 
BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE.
said he; "pass 24th Virginia!" fortunate that the
24th Virginia had not quietly taken off him and his
little party with them.
This incident also evidences the nearness of the hostile lines, and accounts for the great slaughter in this
brief contest. The battle did not last more than half
an hour, and yet more than one third of the 4th brig
ade, and also of our own two regiments, were left dead
or wounded on the field, among them five captains in
one regiment, the 76th New York; and the enemy
must have suffered quite as severely.  Hiere Ewell,
one of their best generals, lost his leg, and two other
general officers were wounded, and their own statements admit a loss of over one thousand men. At
last the dread combat was over, night having come
with friendly darkness to end this bloody tragedy.
Still firm and undaunted, our thinned ranks held
strongly their position; the enemy's fire ceased first,
and then loud and long above the woods rose three
times three of good Union cheers, the claim of victory.
And now to look out for our wounded. The night
was so dark, the whole affair had been so short and
sudden, that no one seemed to know the position of
the surgeons or their ambulances. In my search for
them I had a ride of gloom whose memories can never
desert me. Details were busily engaged in bringing
the wounded down to the road, and here, under the
trees, lay the sufferers, awaiting each his turn to receive the attention of the two or three surgeons in this
part of the field. Lighted by torches or bits of candle, these surgeons were busily engaged in their melancholy labors. I heard few complaints or groans;
119 
120   THlE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
but, as I gazed on the poor patient fellows, my heart
grew sick within me, and the whole air seemed full
of anguish.
Taking the pathway through the woods where I
expected to find the ambulances, I met, lying singly
or in pairs, others of our poor wounded boys, who had
dragged themselves thus far from the spot of their
wounding, and now rested on the green turf, with no
surgical aid to dress their hurts. There is always
something awe-inspiring in the deep gloom of a forest
at night; but you must make that forest the chamber
of anguish for wounded braves, every one of whom
becomes by virtue of his wound your friend and brother, calling forth your most affectionate sympathyyou must add to all this the bitter pang which tortures one unable to help them, before you cal form
any just idea of my melancholy ride on this sad night.
Hurried words of sympathy and consolation, a heartfelt thank-offering to them of praise and gratitude, a
promise of speedy help and succor, these were all I
could lend of present aid; but in almost every instance came back a brave and manly response, which
lent a new glow to my already excited feelings.
iither and thither I rode through the wood, very
carefully lest my horse should tread upon some prostrate form, and finding no signs of a hospital, until I
became half-frantic at my want of success. At length,
to my repeated shouts, came back the long-wished-for
response, and, to my great relief, I found one of our
surgeons, who had already, in his al fresco hospital,
with the light of a single candle, attended to some
thirty cases. I had been looking in the wrong direction. Our surgical department, called upon so sud
iI
i
i 
BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE.
denly to organize field-hospitals at night, was busily
engaged, with a skill and tenderness no one can gain  say, the only trouble being that definite information
of their position had not reached head-quarters. Very
soon all the wounded were attended to; many of them
accompanied our march in the ambulances, the re mainder being left behind under charge of a surgeon.
On my return to the general I found him seated at
a little camp-fire on the side of the road, around which
also reclined the division general and the general com manding the 4th brigade. Our men had, in the mean
time, been withdrawn from the front, and were bivou acked in the field close to the road, lying down on
their arms; pickets were stationed, and all was still
save where, around their council-fire, the generals were
conversing. The officers of the respective staffs were
seated a little outside the inner circle, orderlies held
the horses ready for instant use in the road close by,
and the firelight shone upon the anxious faces of men
conscious of a grave responsibility. To all appearance, the road over which we had been marching was
now completely flanked by a greatly superior force of
the enemy, and whether or not they had already posted their artillery and infantry so as to prevent our
changing our route was at least an open question.
Shortly after I joined the party our pickets brought
in two prisoners, an officer and a private, who had, so
close were the two forces and so dark the night, strayed by mistake into our lines in passing from one of
their own regiments to another. The manners and
appearance of the young officer pleased me. Hiis
dress was the usual gray uniform, with little decoration, and a slouch hat, with drooping feather, lent a
F
121 
122   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
picturesque air to his prepossessing countenance. As
he stood in the glare of the camp-fire, that handsome
young rebel, he answered the questions put to him by
one or another of the generals courteously, frankly reserving to himself the right to say nothing which
could injure his cause.
The separate examination of the other prisoner confirmed our belief that we had fallen in with Jackson's
entire army, and also that the enemy was completely
deceived as to our numbers, believing that they had
been engaged with Pope's main body.  The cheers of
our men at the close of the battle, and the later cheering sent up at our general's direction after the regiments had left the front in order to make the enemy
believe that we were welcoming re - enforcements,
doubtless aided considerably in this mistake. In no
other way can I account for the fact that we were permitted, with our broken division, to withdraw from
this point unmolested.
At length it was decided to relinquish the march
toward Centreville, to turn back and take the road to
Manassas Junction, the march to commence at 1 A.M.
The prospect was a gloomy one.' The general feeling
seemed to be that our march was likely to be opposed,
and that the struggle with the larger opposing force
would probably be a desperate one. It was now
eleven o'clock; the group around the camp-fire dis persed, some to attend to special duty, others to seek.
a little rest. Wrapped in our cloaks, for the night air
was chilly, we laid down by the roadside; but, tired
as I was, my own thoughts were too full of the ex citing scenes of the late battle, too busy with the ex pected contest, to enable me at once to sleep. It was
I
I
i 
BATTLE OF GAINESVILLE.
one of those seasons when it does a man good to look
at his position squarely in the face, to examine it by
the clear light of duty, and seek to bring himself into
true relations with the eternal verities. Not much
may be said about such experiences, but out of them
came strength and cheerfulness, and I was soon refreshed by a little sleep.
At 1 A.M. all were aroused; the men, alive to the
necessities of the case,. fell in with no noise; the
wounded fit for transportation were already in the
ambulances, and the column was in motion.  I certainly expected that we should be attacked at any moment, and should have to cut our way through; and
still think that if Jackson had known the weakness of
our force, he could have eaten us up alive.  But stillness still brooded over the rebel lines; we had reached and passed the point where the enemy first opened
fire upon us; the expected night-attack did not come
off, and we had soon turned into the road leading to
Manassas Junction. The men marched swiftly, so
that by 6 A.M. we had reached the Junction, where
we found quite a large number of our troops already
assembled. I afterward learned that the enemy moved
away the same night; so that, as is not infrequent in
war, both parties had had quite enough of the bloody
battle-field of Gainesville.
123
I
II
II 
124 THE BIVOUAO AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XIII.
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
RIDAY, August 29th. Now, thought we, for a lit     tle rest. After the dangers and fatigues of the
past forty-eight hours, the brigade actually required
repose, and we felt sure they~would be allowed it.
Rations were at once issued, camp-fires lighted, and
the bivouac began to put on a look of comfort. This
done, the staff, in the absence of our staff tents and
baggage, proceeded to do their best in the same direction. A neighboring brook made an excellent washbasin. I always carried in my saddle-bags a toiletcase, towels, and a supply of paper collars. The uniform coat covers up all deficiencies, so that in half an
hour I was refreshed and quite presentable. We had
our head-quarters ambulance with us, and a limited
cuisine, so that our cook was able to supply us with
a cup of black coffee, some canned meat, and hard
bread-the first thing, I believe, which had passed
my lips since our noontide meal yesterday.
As we sat on the ground sipping our coffee and
talking over last night's experiences, cheer upon cheer
from one of the brigades of our division arrested our
attention. Starting up, I saw a long column of troops
moving by, and heard it was composed of some of
M'Clellan's old army. I did not wonder at the cheers,
for now we were assured that M'Clellan had succeeded in extricating himself from his perilous position on
I
i
I
II 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
the Peninsula, and that our connection was fully established. For one, I had now not a particle of doubt
that every man of that army, to aid in whose rescue
we had been undergoing the fatigue and danger of
the past three weeks, was flying to re-enforce us.
The reason, I presume, why the sight of these reenforcements made so strong an impression was this,
that the frequent excitements and want of sleep had
to some extent demoralized our troops, officers and
men.  A  man, hazy from fasting and sleeplessness,
loses self-reliance, does not stand so firmly on his feet,
becomes dejected and indifferent, offering a service
perfunctory rather than whole-souled and enthusiastic.
I know that personally I felt almost exhausted, for
the bodily machine was pretty well run down. I am
convinced that there was not half the fighting value
in our brigade as if one day's rest and one night's
sleep had been permitted us after the late fatigues.
Imagine our disappointment when, as we were finishing our coffee, orders came for the division to move
forward at once to meet the enemy. The second battle of Bull Run had already commenced, and every
man was needed. Our men had not had time enough
to kill and cook their fresh meat, and so it had to be
abandoned. I confess that I pitied the men as they
reluctantly packed and slung their knapsacks. I pitied my tired mare as the orderly brought her up. I
pitied my tired body as I swung myself into the saddle. All the usual excitement naturally attendant
upon a march to an expected battle-field was merged
and lost in mental and bodily prostration.
I shall attempt no general description of this second
battle of Bull Run, seeking only to narrate my person
125
0 
126 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
al experiences, with such attendant circumstances as
fall naturally into this connection. It was about 10
A.M. when our column was again in motion, retracing a portion of last night's journey, but turning off
to the right on the road to New Market, our general
direction being toward the north. The road was full
of ambulances and ammunition wagons; the roar of
the opposing batteries filled the air; and, as we drew
nearer, the continuous rattle of musketry indicated
that this was no mere artillery duel, but a general engagement. As we passed into the outer rim of the
battle-field, we noticed on every hand, hiding in little valleys out of reach of the enemy's fire, parks
of ammunition wagons, while over several scattered
farm-houses floated the red flag of the hospital.
Having marched about six miles, we drew in about
4 P.M. to the main line of battle on the left, were
halted, formed in line of battle, and advanced half up
a gentle swale, whose crest was crowned with several batteries. Stretching in rear of this line of batteries, some thousands of troops were lying on their
arms, sheltered by the crest from the enemy's artillery,
and only needed when the enemy should attack the
left, or an advance be ordered from this direction.
For the present the artillery had this portion of the
struggle to themselves, and terribly earnest were their
demonstrations of mutual hostility. Our brigade was
now resting quietly with the rest of the infantry; the
general and staff dismounted, and some of us lay down
and took a few minutes' sleep.
Feeling a good deal better for my rest, I was now
ready to look about me. With this crest between us'
and the battle-field, we could, of course, see nothing, so
I
I
0 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
I obtained permission to ascend to the top, where
I could overlook the valley of death, from whence
rolled up to us the awful din of battle. Our major
joined me, and together we passed an hour in the
fruitless endeavor to comprehend the different positions, and map out the main features of the contest.
Immediately below us were the Pennsylvania Reserves and some other regiments; beyond them a
series of undulatory elevations, each fringed with a
dense smoke, and breaking ever into fresh puffs from
cannon discharges.: A dense cloud rested upon the
intermediate valleys; no charge of infantry, no lines
of gray-uniformed rebels interested us; every thing
was enveloped in a smoky veil. A pre-Raphaelite
who should attempt to paint this battle would have
been compelled to give us mainly a smoke-enwrapped
landscape, unless he threw aside his pencil and went
in with the infantry. But we could not forget that
beneath the veil our brothers, loyal and patriotic,
were fighting for the good cause, and peered anxiously forward, thinking every moment might lift the
concealing vapor and disclose something of the struggle going on below.
With the result of all this fighting-how Sigel, and
Hooker, and Kearney, and the rest drove back the enemy's left, swinging our own right forward to occupy
their former position, all are familiar. But meantime
while, alas! some of the long-expected divisions of the
Army of the Potomac are held back at Alexandria,
Lolngstreet and the whole force of the enemy are hurrying to the rescue of their nearly discomfited comrades. That Longstreet is indeed already taking posi.
tion opposite our left wing we are to have fearful personal evidence only too soon.
127 
128   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
For now, about 6 P.M., comes to us an aid from
General M'Dowell with orders to advance. Swiftly
from regiment to regiment, now lying en masse, a little
compact square of men, passes the order; the men leap
to their feet, sling knapsacks, take their muskets, and
fall in. Field officers lying asleep, worn out by fatigue, rouse themselves and are soon in the saddle.
The general and staff lead the way, and the brigade
moves out into the road, followed by the 1st brigade,
the division being now under the command of General
Hatch. The other brigades are not with us, though
one follows not long after. Eight regiments of us, and
only some twenty-five hundred fighting men-a sad
commentary upon last night's losses, and also upon the
fatigues and privations of the past few weeks, more
destructive to an army than any battle.
Hardly have we fairly started before the order comes
to move at double-quick.  M'Dowell himself is at the
roadside, and as we move quickly by the news flashes
through our lines that the enemy is retreating, and
that we are sent forward to pursue and pick up the
stragglers. Cheer after cheer swells up fromthe ranks;
officers wave their swords; the fatigue of last night's
fighting and marching is forgotten; the heavy knapsacks do not weigh a pound; tired limbs lose their stiffness; officers and men receive new and wonderful inspiration. Ah! that was an exciting ride, cheered by
the breath of anticipated victory, quite wild indeed
with enthusiasm.
On our right and left we note the batteries lining
the ridges, with large bodies of troops behind them,
marking our main line of battle; and as we rush past,cheer upon cheer greets and encourages us; for now
4
i 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
the hot throats of our cannon were silent; the fighting at this point was over, and our tired army, having
fought bravely through that bloody day, were holding
quietly but sternly the new lines of advance won from
the enemy. On! on!  three fourths of a mile beyond
our main lines, up the Warrenton turnpike still moved
at double-quick our two brigades, accompanied by a
single battery of artillery; on! on! far ahead of all
our supports. How beautiful and still this sunset
hour! how treacherously quiet the fields, and woods,
and glens on either side of us!
Where; hoWever, are the rebel stragglers we were
sent forward to capture, where the evidences that the
enemy is in flight? Ah! it is not to pursue a disheartened and flying foe we have come hither; but
right into the rebel den are we rushing- right into
the deadly embrace of Longstreet's entire force, waiting for us, three lines deep, just arrived and fresh for
battle. A little ahead of our main body skirmish our
sharpshooters, thrown out on either hand, creeping
cautiously forward, peering into wood and glen, every
man ready on the instant to bring down a skulking
foe or develop a hostile force hiding in ambuscade.
And now we are moving up a gentle ascent in the
road, when suddenly the sharpshooters halt, and all
along their line rings out the sharp crack of their rifles,
admonishing of danger. Yonder wooded slopes just
beyond us, looking so still and beautiful, are full of
rebels; already their advanced skirmishers have opened the bloody tournament. On gallops our single battery to the top of the ascent, the guns are unlimbered,
the horses brought back a hundred paces to the rear:,
and in an instant roars forth our answer to the rebel
F2
129 
130   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
welcome. The infantry hasten forward, deploy in line
of battle in the fields on both sides the road, move
swiftly to the top of the crest, and pour volley after
volley down toward the enemy. That enemy, sheltered in natural rifle-pits, protected by stone walls and
woods, have only to lie quietly in their hiding-places
until they can take fatal aim upon our exposed regiments. A fatal and disastrous game this, even if our
numbers were equal; as it is, the odds are overwhelming, and our ranks are swept by the besom of destruction.
Close in rear of the men the general, and staff, and
field officers of the regiments cheer, encourage, and
force up the troops to their work. Again and again
our brave boys deliver their fire, to bend again and
again beneath that murderous rush of bullets, which
howls about us as the storm howls through a harvestfield in autumn. Bravely the company officers stand
fast to their position; a field officer seizes his regimental colors and bears them forward in front, and the lines
dress up with steady obstinacy. I saw one captain
standing beside his men on the crest, exclaiming, "Fire
away, boys! give it to them!" ducking his own head
ever and anon as the leaden storm in fiercer blasts
came wailing by. Smile not at this, for here was a
worthy example of high religious principle triumphing over great bodily fear. Hie afterward remarked,
"Nothing but my sense of religious duty kept me from
running away a dozen times." Another captain in
our brigade, wounded in last night's battle, is here
fighting beside his men, and the consequence is that
he will be lame for life.
The wounded are now creeping to the rear, while 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
some of our best and bravest lie dead upon this fatal
field; and still, low-lying and secure, the enemy sweeps
our ranks with a whirlwind of bullets. On our left,
and close to our left flank, is a dense wood, still and
calm as if unconscious of the bloody carnival. Early
in the fight the fire of one of our regiments had been
turned in that direction, so as to unmask any concealed
foe-not answered, however, by a responding volley,
but a voice exclaims, "Don't shoot here; you're firing
on your friends." Supposing that our skirmishers
were holding the woods, no farther attack was made
in that direction. But now, all of a sudden, out of this
treacherous grove comes a murderous enfilading fire.
Nothing is so demoralizing to troops as an attack in
flank and rear, and it is fearfully evident that our position is too hot for us. Already many of our men
are killed and wounded; our staff major's horse is
killed, another staff horse wounded in two places:
how any man can live under such a fire as this seems
wonderful.
This standing as targets for a sheltered and unseen
foe is not good tactics. One of two things must be
done. Either we must charge with the cold steel into
these woods, and down upon those stone walls and
copses, or we must retreat. Flanked and outnumbered, we can not, must not remain in this hideous
death-angle another instant. Our general straightens
himself in his saddle, and upon his face may easily be
read the determination never to quit this field alive.
But the madness of such a course is only too evident,
and at last a retreat is ordered.
As soon as we begin to fall back the enemy unmasks his troops, and charges in front and flank upon
131 
132 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
our ranks, now broken and retreating in disorder.
The sun has set, and the darkness descends to lend
new horrors to the scene; foes become undistinguish
able from friends, and still at frequent intervals fresh
volleys from the advancing enemy wail over our heads
with a terrible emphasis. At several points the desperate exertions of some field or staff officer succeed
in rallying little battalions of men, again to fall back
before the outnumbering foe.
It was while making a rally like this that a friend
of mine met with a singular adventure which well illustrates the confusion caused by the darkness of the
hour. Hiis horse had been killed in the battle, and
his leg injured, and as he limped away he was overtaken by a body of men moving in the same direction.
Supposing them to be our own troops, he resolved to
attempt to make a stand, and sought to face them to
the front, using even blows in his excited eagerness.
At length some one exclaimed, "Who are you, sir?"
"Major of the 76th!" was the reply.   "76th what?"
said the stranger. "76th New York," replied the major.  "Well, sir, you are my prisoner, for you are trying to rally the 2d Mississippi." And so the gallant
major had to make an excursion in a southerly direction, to escape once during the night, and be again captured as he groped his way through the darkness, to
meet with various adventures, to be paroled, and finally exchanged. On his return to his regiment he was
warmly congratulated by his friends on his success in
rallying a Southern regiment.
Sadly from this field of disaster we rode with the
general, two of our staff absent, each of whomn I had
seen greatly exposing himself in the fight, and of 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
whose fate I was very apprehensive. The night was
now so dark that it was impossible to collect the men,
but we busied ourselves in getting them together in
detachments. Arrived once more within our own
lines, we found our main line of battle marked by a
few scattered camp-fires; but most of the troops had
lain down in their blankets, and all was still save
where the pickets challenged an approaching party,
or an officer called out the rendezvous of his scattered
men. Dinnerless and supperless, the only wish was to
lie down and be alone with the recollections of the
drama of death through which we had just passed.
"Why had we been sent out upon so forlorn a hope?"
was the engrossing question. So at last, amid mingled feelings of pain and thanksgiving, of bitter sorrow at our disaster and heartfelt gratitude for my own
escape, each in turn in the ascendant, I fell asleep, and
one more day of danger, fatigue, and excitement was
over.
Saturday, August 30th. With the morning our two
staff officers, safe and sound, and the different detachments, which had camped in various portions of the
field, came in, and it was enough to give a man the
heartache to see the little brigade drawn up in line,
not five hundred strong. More than fifteen hundred
rank and file had marched with us out of Fredericksburgh; some had undoubtedly skulked behind; some
were absolutely worn out by our long marches, sleepless nights, and battle fatigues; some, separated from
their commands during last night, had not yet rejoined
them; but probably the larger portion of the missing
were prisoners to the enemy, lay wounded in the how
pitals, or slept the last sleep of the patriotic brave.
133 
134  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
The hill-side where our brigade now stood was
close behind our main line of battle, and here our bat teries were posted, with the infantry drawn up just in
their rear, or moving toward their new positions. The
morning was very beautiful, and not a warlike sound
disturbed the peaceful calm. No martial music awak ened the enthusiasm of the troops; not even the drum
and fife marked time for their marching.  I am convinced that this is a mistake, and that, indeed, in many
respects the military life of our volunteers has been
made too tame and matter-of-fact. The patriotic impulse has not been sufficiently appealed to and aroused
by encouraging words uttered by their officers on the
brink of battle; the martial spirit not sufficiently excited by music, medals, brevets, and similar encouragements. Some of the choicest patriots and best fighters
I have happened to meet with have as yet received
very scanty acknowledgment. When I read of the
little addresses made to the men by the leaders in other
wars, of the promotion upon the field of battle, the
constant appeal to ambition, pride, patriotism, I think
I see one reason why our army, composed as it is of
the best fighting material, has not proved itself invincible. War is a business, but it is something more,
and needs far other and higher incitements to make
it successful.
All this in passing. Very soon an aid brought the
order for our advance, and in a few minutes our caricature of a brigade moved without drum or fife to the
front-only a short distance, however, as they were
posted among the reserves in the centre of the army.
Close by our position was the hillock selected by
General Pope as his post of observation, and thither 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
our general proceeded after placing his brigade. In
a few minutes he sent me an order to come up also,
and here I saw Generals Pope, M'Dowell, and Hiooker,
with a dozen other general officers and their staffsa brilliant military cortege even in our plain American uniform. Near' by stood almost a regiment of orderlies holding the staff horses, aids were galloping up
or hurrying off with orders, and every body seemed
to be in the best of spirits, while the general-in-chief,
with the inevitable cigar in his mouth, walked from
group to group, evidently overflowing with good-humor. Well he might be proud and happy, for it was
now believed that the enemy was in full retreat. The
hill-sides, which yesterday echoed with fierce artillery,
were now silent; the little valleys, then swarming with
graybacks, were now quiet as if there was no such
thing as war. The dense forests in front of us might
indeed be full of treason, but that treason had not yet
given tongue, and some imperfect reconnoissances indicated that it had fled away discomfited. Probably
a happier party never joined at the meet in the palmiest days of old Virginia field-sports than now stood
and talked together in little knots of three or four
upon that hillock, every one speculating upon the
probable line of the enemy's retreat, and eager to be
in at the death.
As I stood conversing with other officers, General
Pope's adjutant general was transcribing that famous
dispatch which announced the glad tidings of victory
to the country, and gave it twenty-four hours of real
joy. But I had no time to lose, for the general had
directed me to proceed at once to Centreville, where
our wagon-train was now parked in charge of our
135 
136  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
brigade quarter-master, and to bring up supplies from
that point, or wherever attainable. With no relish for
fighting, I yet had a fancy that I should enjoy, by way
of a change, the pursuit of a flying enemy and "pick ing up stragglers;" but there is no court of appeal in
such cases, and I was off at once with a regimental
quarter-master.
As we rode by our troops drawn up in line of battle around the old flag, I felt grateful as perhaps never
before for this victory, which seemed to me the salvation of our afflicted country. Our last night's disaster
all the weariness, and hunger, and want of sleep were
forgotten in the deep satisfaction of the hour. Even
the red flag of the hospitals, where our wounded boys
were lying, could only tone down this feeling, for I
felt that they had suffered not in vain-that now we
had reached, perhaps, the last act in this sad tragedy.
Every officer I met, instead of passing rapidly by with
the usual military courtesy, now had a word of hearty
congratulation.  Jocund was every countenance, for
the good news had flown through the entire army;
and the faces even of those who, being wounded only
in hand or arm, were walking toward Centreville, were
full of hope and joy.
So we rode pleasantly on toward Centreville, reaching that strongly fortified position about noon. Such
an immense concourse of wagons I never witnessedacres upon acres of them, parked by divisions, under
charge of their respective quarter-masters. The news
had preceded us; the embargo put on the mails was
now removed, and I scribbled a letter in pencil full
of glad tidings. Before that letter reached its desti —
nation the telegraph had told a far different story. 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
Amid such a city of wagon-trains, it took me half
an hour to find our division train and reach the tent
of our brigade quarter-master. Fortunately, the needed supplies were procurable, the necessary orders
were given, and I was soon seated at a meal which
put to shame any thing I had enjoyed in this line for
a fortnight. For good living under all circumstances,
commend me to a quarter-master's mess-tabl6; if there
be any fatness in the land, be sure that A full share
falls into his larder. 
While thus engaged the wagons were made- eady,
and my friend and myself, refreshed in body and juLbilant in spirit, were soon in the saddle. As we rode
through Centreville I was accosted by a foreigner on
General Sigel's staff, just in from the front, and " fiery
red with haste." The man was absolutely boiling
over with enthusiasm, and almost embraced me,
thought stranger, as he exclaimed, "I go to Washington wiz ze news." "Bon voyage," was my reply,
and on he dashed rejoicing.
Thus full of measureless content, we with difficulty
tamed ourselves down to the slow movement of the
train, so anxious were we to get forward. We now
made up our mind that a long ride was before us, and
that we should have to follow our pursuing army perhaps all night. In the footsteps of victory we should
have been glad to remain in the saddle until we reached Richmond. Not far from Centreville we met
Franklin's division, then halting by the wayside, and
I could not help wishing that they were in front, that
they might aid in the wholesale capture of the rebel
army. I had not a thought how desperately theirs
presence, which might have saved the day, had been
actually needed.
137 
138   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
We had proceeded perhaps a couple of miles, when
we began to meet occasional squads of two or three
soldiers walking toward Centreville, many without
musket or knapsack; but most of them were wounded, and I regarded the rest as only the usual debris of
stragglers which drifts away from every field of battle. Even when these squads became more frequent
I felt no touch of alarm, but considerable indignation
rather, impelling me in several instances to protest
against this movement to the rear. In one of these
instances I was by no means fortunate. HIalting a
couple of our soldiers, I exclaimed, "Why, boys, have
you lost your road?  The enemy is in the opposite direction." To this they replied by simply lifting up
their wounded and bandaged arms, which had been
concealed under their jackets, flung loosely over their
shoulders. Half lifting my cap, with a low bow of
apology, I rode on without another word.   N
And now the rush of men, singly and in detachments, mingled with sutlers' wagons, artillery caissons, and supply wagons, began to look fearfully ominous, but even yet I would not, could not descend
from the heights of hope into the valley of despond.
I began to be afraid to ask any questions, and every
one was pushing by in too much haste to volunteer
any information. At length I could stand it no longer. Turning to my companion (we had been riding
for some minutes in silence), I remarked to him,
" Really this begins to look a good deal like a retreat;
how does it strike you?"  "I have been thinking so
for the last quarter of an hour, but didn't like to speak
of it," was the unsatisfactory reply. 
So at last we began to question the passers-by, and 
SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
to receive but one response. Every man spoke of his
own regiment as "fearfully cut up," but most agreed
that our left wing only had been routed, while the centre and right stood firm. Yet stronger and stronger
grew the retreating tide, darker and darker became
the story of disaster; and now we began to meet ammunition trains, even batteries, and battalions of men
marching back in something like order. From intelligent officers we learned that the defeat was general,
and that our whole army was falling back to Centreville. Our wagon-train had with great difficulty crept
forward thus far; the night was coming on, and the
road was so blocked up that it would have been folly
to attempt to proceed farther; so I ordered the train
to turn back and return to the division park, inside
the defenses at Centreville. We concluded to push
on a little farther; soon became convinced that it was
useless to attempt to stem the tide, and busied ourselves in aiding the passage of the sometimes entangled coil of wagons which now filled the road.
I am bound to say that I saw very little of that panic which is said to have characterized the retreat from
the first battle of Bull Run; no break-neck driving of
wagons, no cutting of traces, no headlong rushes of
troops; the current set one way rapidly, but with little foam. This must be considered a retreat, not an
absolute rout; and toward the last the troops moved
off in good order.  Franklin's division was drawn up
in front of Centreville; so that, had the enemy pur sued, he would have met with a proper reception.
It was night before we reached Centreville, to find
the little place crowded with soldiers, many of its
houses being also filled with the wounded of yester
139
0 
140   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
day's battle. A strong guard was posted across the
road to prevent the farther retreat of stragglers, and it
was evident that the first flurry was over. I had been
able to gain no positive intelligence as to the fate of
our brigade and staff, but it was useless to seek them
in the darkness, so we returned to our quarter-master's
camp, and were comfortably lodged for the night.
And what a night that was! Doubtful as to the
safety of my comrades, almost desperge as to the prospect before us, stung to the quick by shame and sorrow, there rose hardly a single star of hope above its
black horizon. Let all this pass as a frightful and
fearful dream.
O
.1 
CENTREVILLE TO UPTON'S HILL.
CHAPTER XIV.
CENTREVILLE TO UPTON'S HILL.
SUNDAY, August 31st. With the earliest dawn I
was again in the saddle, anxious to find the brigade, and to learn how my comrades had fared in yesterday's battle. The morning was cold and rainy;
every thing bore a look of sad discomfort, in unison
with my own feelings. The scene through which I
rode was, indeed, one needing only a faithful limner
to present a picture strikingly illustrative of military
life in its most depressing form.  Around me were
the disjecta membra of a shattered army-here were
stragglers sneaking along through the mud, inquiring
for their regiments; little squads just issuing from
their shelterless bivouac on the wet ground wagons
shipwrecked and forlorn; half-formed regiments, part
of the men with guns and part without-wanderers
driven in by the patrols; while every one you met
had an unwashed, sleepy, downcast aspect, and looked
as if he would like to hide his head somewhere from
all the world. At one side of the picture our artist
would introduce the long lines of handsome hacks,
each with its sour, surly driver, enraged at having
been sent out here from his pleasant stand on the avenue by an inexorable provost-marshal, who needed his
carriage as an ambulance for our wounded: for these
vehicles, so suggestive of home luxury, offered a speaking contrast to the rough miseries of war; while, that
141 
142   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
his sketch might not want touches of practical satire
and irony, he would paint in some of these groups of
kid-gloved citizens in their fine apparel, who now
paused disconsolately in the mud, having come out on
a pleasure excursion to visit our victorious battle-field.
Perhaps the artist might find humorous touches in the
scene; I confess that I could not see them through
my sad eyes on that unhappy morning.
But there were also divisions and brigades bivouacked in true military style. The Centreville fortifications were well manned and occupied by batteries;
a division or two still in front of them faced the enemy, and a more thorough inspection convinced me
that the Army of Virginia still lived. Most of last
night's runaways had found their commands, while
many of the brigades, among which was my own, had
marched back in good order.  As I gazed around I
discovered the little cohort drawn up on the right, and
was soon exchanging earnest, friendly greetings with
the staff.  The brigade had suffered very little in the
conflict of yesterday, only four men having been killed
and wounded in the whole number. It was comforting to find my friends all safe; to me it was like coming home after an absence full of misfortune; but our
meeting was not joyous; we met rather as men meet
after shipwreck, in which, though saved themselves,
they have lost their all. I think I can safely say that
I saw no smiles that day.
We had no tents, but were busied in necessary outdoor duties; provisions were distributed, the men made
coffee, and still poured down upon us the drenching
rain; so we shivered through an hour or two, until
orders came to our division to march in the direction 
CENTREVILLE TO UPTON'S HILL.
of Fairfax Court-house. Our supply train was ordered to Alexandria with all the tents and head-quarter baggage also, and our march of five miles was brisk
and unencumbered. Having reached a good position
wherein to repulse the enemy should he seek to sweep
round our right, avoiding the Centreville fortifications
and attacking us in rear, or making a cavalry raid
upon our wagon-trains, we were halted in some fields
north of the road, and drawn up in line of battle; the
men stacked arms, unslung knapsacks, and were allowed to rest. The other brigades of the division
were drawn up near us, the remainder of the corps
was not far off; batteries were posted, and quiet waiting was now in order.
Here we remained all day. Shortly after our arrival the sunshine came to cheer us; we spread our
blankets beneath a shade-tree, swords were unbuckled
and hung up on its limbs, a fire was built near by to
drive off the dampness and cook our dinner, the horses
were picketed and fed in the neighboring grove, a few
pickets thrown out in front, and we threw ourselves
down to rest. It was not long before a respectable
camp dinner, served upon the grass, invited us, and
here beneath the welcome shade we dined.
Under other circumstances this would have been a
cheerful party. But now I noticed that no gayety
sparkled, no pleasant anecdote gave zest to our meal.
It was only a satisfying of hunger, and nothing more.
Every one was wonderfully silent, moved through his
duties mechanically, had no extra courtesies to spare
for his fellows. Few allusions were made to our late
defeat, still a sore subject with all; and each felt, I
presume, like myself-quite crushed, as yet, under the
143 
144 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.,
shame and sorrow of our lost victory. Had the enemy attacked on that day he would have encountered
men thoroughly desperate-not so much demoralized
as savage-and burning to wipe out the memories of
the late disaster.
With a cracker-box for an open-air writing-table, I
managed to write a little in the afternoon, but most of
the staff spent the time in sleep. Meantime a continuous train of wagons and ambulances filled the road,
all moving toward Alexandria, and no hostile demonstration disturbed our quiet bivouac. As night came
on we borrowed a paulin from a battery, and, by
stretching it over a transverse pole supported by two
stakes, made a comfortable canopy, beneath which, at
sunset, we spread our blankets, and slept heavily until
morning.
Monday, September lst. Marvelous was the effect of
a good night's sleep upon our party, and a more cheerful tone was evident in all. Still in our quiet bivouac,
busied in various duties, we passed most of the day.
The 7th Indiana, some seven hundred strong, was this
day added to our brigade; some of our missing had
returned, so that we could now muster perhaps fourteen hundred men. I was interested, in standing by
the roadside this morning, to see the mile after mile
of wagons as they rolled by, mingled with other vehicles of every description. Under the lee of a huge
army wagon crept a diminutive jackass, drawing a diminutive cart laden with knapsacks, followed, perhaps,
by an old, broken-down family carriage of the ancient
style peculiar to the F. F. V., creaking complainingly
along under a load of other soldier-gear, while an ox;
team or two moved leisurely on with the quiet dignity 
CENTREVILLE TO UPTON'S HILL.
of their kind. I fear that these equipages were the
products of private confiscation, and that no entry of
them ever reached the quarter-master's returns.
Later in the day the necessity for haste became too
urgent to permit these nondescripts to lumber up the
road.  Staff officers were stationed at various points
hurrying up the trains. The wagons moved in two
parallel lines; the teams broke into a trot wherever
practicable, and the luckless wight whose ox or jack  ass could not keep the pace was elbowed off the road.
For hours to-day General M'Dowell, whose head-quar  ters were near the roadside, opposite to our position,
sat under a tree where he could inspect and hurry up
the movement. It was clearly a military necessity
that our immense caravan should be sheltered as soon
as possible behind the forts at Alexandria.
The day passed on with no signs of the enemy, and
about 4 P.M. our brigade was ordered off as a protec-.
tion to Fairfax Station, a new disposition of fe eL,..
being now required. Shortly after we had marchedl
through Fairfax Court-house we were met by a most
drenching storm. The rain laughed to scorn our rub ber cloaks, filled our top -boots to the brim, trickled
in 4vulets between our shoulders, while the wind fairly swayed our horses before its fury. The road speedily became a lake, and our brigade made a sorry figure indeed as, with muskets reversed, they waded
through the mud, staggering against the blinding
storm. In the midst of this fury of the elements,
heavily and continually the sound of cannonading on
our right broke upon our ears, seeming almost a hor- 
rid mockery, and once more treason and loyalty fought
to the death on the field of Chantilly. In this battle
G
145 
146  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
Kearney and Stevens, two of our very best generals,
met their fate; many a brave fellow was killed or
wounded, but the victory was ours, and the enemy's
attack was repulsed with great slaughter.
It was quite dark before we reached our position,
and here upon ground which had become a marsh, and
in the midst of this fierce storm, our poor boys were
compelled to bivouac.  Pickets were at once thrown
out, and he who desires a true conception of the hardships of a soldier's life should have waded to the front
with these outlying sentinels, and stood with them
under the rain, watching for some indications of an approaching enemy. Nor was the main bivouac much
better; no fires were lighted, lest they should attract
the attention of the foe; hard bread and water constituted the evening meal; boughs were piled up for
beds; India-rubber blankets warded off a portion of
the deluge, and so somehow the saturated troops
':?:_  l e sleep.
We of the staff were more fortunate. Close to our
line was a little hovel, with one side all fireplace, and
tenanted by a couple who were glad to lease the lower
room to us for the night. It took half an hour for
the general and his aids to make the proper dispositions of his regiments, but when all had assembled
before the fire the steam of drying garments ascended
to the rafters and overhung us like a cloud. Beneath
this canopy, on half-baked lumps of dough and the
ever-present Virginia bacon, with coffee and sugar from
our own haversacks, we feasted, and made soon after
of the floor our common couch. Our orders were to
be ready to jump at a moment's notice, as it was-a
pleasant feature of these experiences that no one knew
iw 
CENTREVILLE TO UPTON'S HILL.
when or where the enemy might attack, so that even
the removal of boots was dispensed with; but, as I had
already absorbed much of the water with which my
own had been filled, that was a matter of little consequence.  With many a thought of the poor soldiers
outside, and sandwiched between two good fellows, I
passed a very comf9rtable night.
Tuesday, September 2d. A lovely morning after the
storm, and the men were now allowed to light fires
and cook their breakfasts, so that when orders were
given to fall in they seemed to have forgotten last
night's discomforts. At 8 A.M. we marched back
through Fairfax Court-house toward Centreville. The
most exaggerated rumors as to last night's battle and
as to the intentions of the enemy met us on every
hand, and another battle was generally anticipated.
We rejoined our division some two miles beyond the
Court-house, and the brigade was again drawn up in
line of battle, only to remain for a few hours, for early
in the afternoon the division was ordered to march
back toward Washington, through Fairfax Courthouse and Falls Church village, a distance of about
ten miles. We reached Upton's Hill about sunset,
where our men bivouacked on the hill-side, while we
spread our blankets on the floor of a house near by.
And so ended Pope's retreat and our first campaign in
Virginia.
147 
148 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XV.
INSIDE THE DEFENSES OF WASHINGTON.
EDNESDAY, September 3d. And now the ar   mies of Virginia and of the Potomac were
united within the defenses of Washington, under the
command of General M'Clellan. Here we remained
four days, awaiting the movements of the victorious
enemy. That he would follow up his advantage no
one doubted. Many believed that another great battle was to be fought in front of Washington; a feint
or two was indeed made in the direction of Chain
Bridge, but all doubt was soon removed by the intelligence that he had crossed the Potomac into Maryland.
Of these four days of quiet on Upton's Hill I have
little to chronicle. After our fatigue and excitement,
this rest medicined and strengthened us, until gradually the depressing effect of our late defeat wore away,
and once more hope rose into the ascendant. To me
it was a great privilege, when our wagons came up
from Alexandria, to get once more into my own tent;
to lie down in my own camp-bed with the feeling that
an uninterrupted night's sleep was before me; to have
my own den, whither I could retire and be alone. No
less pleasant was it, after having been so long cut off
from communication with the North, to come into
epistolary and journalistic connection; for batches o~
letters and files of newspapers now reached us, and we 
INSIDE THE DEFENSES OF WASHINGTON.  149
had abundant time to read and to reflect upon our late
experience.
In calmly reviewing the results of the late cam paign, I confess that, though there was much to regret,
there seemed little of which to be ashamed. The gov ernment had proposed to the Army of Virginia one
specific object, viz., by a strong demonstration, threat ening Richmond from the right, to extricate the Army
of the Potomac from its dangerous position on the
Peninsula. This object it fully accomplished, and
M'Clellan was thus enabled to withdraw his forces
without losing a man.  Pursued by the whole rebel
army, and compelled to fall back by disparity in numbers, it contested every point, giving ample time for
the Army of the Potomac to come up, join forces, and
overthrow the enemy. And there seems to be no
good reason why this union was not accomplished;
why our campaign did not culminate in a crowning
and decisive victory. Before the impartial tribunal
of the future, in the days when all personal animosity
has subsided; when the investigations of congressional committees, courts-martial, and courts of inquiry
have crystallized into history, I feel sure that the verdiet of guilty of neglect of duty will not be entered up
against the Army of Virginia.  Half-fed for days, often exhausted by fighting, long marching, and want of
sleep, I have yet to learn that they were found wanting in courage and patience in the hour of trial.
So much in justice to the Army of Virginia, and to
the gallant divisions of the old Army of the Potomac,
who so bravely supported and aided it during its last
experiences. And if there be any generals of that old
Army of the Potomac of whom this can not with truth 
150 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
be asserted, this is not the time or the place for accusing them, nor am I qualified to sit as judge. But if
there be in all this land men with souls so mean that
in this crisis of their country's destiny they could fail
to throw their whole mind, body, and spirit into our
last battle, could keep back their men lest haply they
might reach the field in time to change the issue of
the day, or obey their orders so tardily as utterly to
foil the plans of the commanding general, then may
God help them in that hour when they shall see in
vision the accursed treason of their act, and its fearful
consequences to the country and the world. Then
shall the graves of the victims of their treachery send
forth each its bloody witness, while all the tears and
all the agony of the widows and orphans, who owe
their grief to them, shall testify against them. The
man who stabs his friend when unarmed and trusting
him, we call a murderer, and punish him accordingly;
but how insignificant his guilt compared to theirs
who, intrusted by their country with high commands,
in an hour like this could prostitute their patriotism
to personal jealousy, forfeit their official oaths, and forswear themselves before high heaven at the shrine of
political intrigue or personal ambition-who could
wickedly permit their countrymen and brothers to
stand the odds of our last bloody field unaided and
alone. For the honor of our common human nature,
I pray that this charge may not be true.
In reading the history of the struggle of the Greeks
for independence, I remember to have been impressed
with the thought that a people whose generals and political leaders could so basely permit personal jealousies, low ambitions, or political aspirations to interfere 
INSIDE THE DEFENSES OF WASHINGTON.  151
with their official duties, and thus defraud their country of their best services, was really unworthy of freedom-could not, in the nature of things, expect to attain it. How often, in these sad, sad days, as I sought
to pierce the heavy clouds and cast the horoscope of
my country's destiny, did it seem to me that we were
in danger of shipwrecking our freedom on the same
rock. But enough on this unpleasant theme.
I seldom mounted my horse during this quiet interval between two campaigns, passing most of my time
in my tent in bringing up my arrears of business, of
news, and of correspondence. The wardrobes and
weapons of our men were thoroughly renovated; fresh
arrivals of convalescents from the hospitals and of
stragglers from their wanderings swelled their ranks;
abundance of food strengthened them; abundance of
sleep rested them; all was made ready for the expected move. Our major was not to accompany us, returning to his regiment, to the great regret of his old
companions, who admired him for his skill and courage as a soldier, and loved him for his many excellencies of head and heart as a man.
At 6 P.M. on Saturday, September 6th, our division was ordered to march through Washington into
Maryland. We left Upton Hill with little regret, and
with the hope that a new and brighter experience was
before us. As usual, we found the road blocked up
by other troops preceding us, for the whole army was
now in motion, so that, after proceeding a mile or two,
the men were halted at the roadside, stacked arms,
and rested. It was evident that it would be hours before our brigade could have a clear road, and, having
business to transact in Washington for the command, 
152   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
I obtained permission to ride on at once. At 10
P.M., with a subordinate, I was on the road. The
moon was near its full. We found the road crowded
with troops, wagons, and artillery, all pushing toward
the Chain Bridge; but by keeping well into the fields
we made good time, and before midnight crossed the
river into Georgetown   Soon after we met large bodies of troops-ten thousand at least-moving into
Maryland, chiefly new regiments, whose bright uniforms, fine bands, and full ranks were in striking contrast with our own thinned battalions. So through
the moonlit streets we rode on, until, our horses comfortably stabled, we secured two cots in the parlor of
a crowded hotel, and were soon wooing the drowsy
god, thankful that our retreat was ended, and that tomorrow we turned over a new leaf. Against the same
army, whose strength had been at least partially broken
as it dashed itself against the Army of Virginia, was
now moving the new Army of the Potomac, composed
of the united strength of the two Union armies, increased by large re-enforcements of fresh troops. The
result could hardly be doubted. 
0
WASHINGTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
CHAPTER XVI.
WASHINGTNTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
SUNDAY, &eptember 07th. I relinquished my cot in
the corner of the hotel parlor with a good deal of
reluctance this pleasant morning. But, while we had
been sleeping, our division had been marching through
the silent streets, and we were anxious to accomplish
our business and follow on as speedily as possible.
Early as was the hour, we found Pennsylvania Avenue
sprinkled with uniforms and gay with staff officers and
orderlies, and learned that, two or three hours before,
our division had moved out Seventh Street into Maryland. An hour or two put our matters in train, and
then we hitched our horses at the Kirkwood for an
early breakfast.
I wonder if my sable friend, who placed before me
that morning the unaccustomed napkin, milk, and butter, with the hot coffee, boiled eggs, and other accomjpaniments of a judicious breakfast, was aware to what
a novel banquet he gave me welcome. And yet a
red-faced monster sitting next me, unctuous and plethoric with good living, his plate fronted and flanked by
rows of delicacies two lines deep, actually growled and
snarled over a meal before which I sat speechless, my
heart and mouth too full for utterance. Never before
or since have I taken a meal at the Kirkwood, nor do
I dare again to attempt it, lest a second trial should
rob me of a pleasing delusion. For this must ever be
G2
153 
154   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
to me the ideal breakfast of my life. It had been my
fate to banquet on Chinese indescribables in Canton;
to sit cross-legged over my coffee with the Oriental in
Damascus; to see myself reflected in the mirrored
walls of the best restaurant in Paris; but there was a
gastronomic fascination about this meal which eclipses
them all, and I left the Kirkwood full of kindly feelings for my host and for all mankind.
As we rode hither and thither during the morning,
the sight of the well-dressed men, women, and children in the streets seemed strange to me. I felt very
much as if I had just returned from a visit to another
planet; and when the church-bells rang out, an indescribable longing came over me for an hour or two
of the subdued light and soothing contemplation of
cathedral aisles. But the putting down of this rebellion was now my religion, and, as we have no Sundays
in the army, no conscientious scruple disturbed me;
so I flung off such feelings and all the home thoughts
which these Sunday street-scenes awakened, hurried
through with my duties, and, about one o'clock, was
riding with my companion up Seventh Street toward
the front.
We had proceeded only a mile or two before the
turnpike became one crowded military mass; troops,
artillery, and wagon-trains were moving in double
lines, and our progress through was necessarily slow.
The dust rose in great clouds; we breathed, tasted,
smelt it; our clothes put on the hue of the butternut;
but the men appeared to be in good humor, and their
faces, muddy with dust and perspiration - yellow
masks through which gleamed their eyes-ripple'
into frequent grins. For a demoralized army, as some
0 
WASHINGTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
have styled them, they certainly marched well, and
with but little straggling. At the gateways of some
of the elegant country-seats stood their occupants tendering cups of water to the men, and, what was far
more refreshing, the tokens of patriotic sympathy.
Probably these ladies, who stood waving flags, or
handkerchiefs-woman's usual banner in grief or in
joy-little knew how gratifying all this was to men
who had for months hardly seen a woman's face beaming with pleasant welcome. Entirely unaccustomed
to such a reception, if my cap was off once it was off
thirty times during to-day's march; and there was
not the roughest soldier in the ranks who did not
march better, ay, and fight better, for these and other
sympathetic demonstrations in Maryland. Many a
closed residence still frowned upon us, but it was also
evident that we were moving among friends. And
here let me say, after good opportunities of judging,
that though there was far too much of private marauding in this Maryland campaign, still it was evident that the troops recognized the distinction between
friends and foes, and generally permitted the sheepfolds and poultry-yards to remain unscathed.
We were passing through a country far different in
appearance from our old campaigning ground in Virginia-a smiling country, as yet scarcely conscious of
the presence of destroying war. About ten miles out
we reached the camps of the advance. Grove and
hill-side were full of tents, and a thorough reconnoissance was necessary before we discovered our brigade,
snugly bivouacked on a gentle swale, skirted by a
pretty brook and near a shady grove. The big officetent alone was pitched, and here, soon after my arri
155 
156   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
val, dinner was served, whereat I excited the envy of
my companions by the vivid description of the late
breakfast. We also made of this tent a common
chamber; our cots were brought in, and we sank to
rest with the sun.
The next morning all our tents were pitched in
regular order, fronting upon a vacant quadrangle, beyond which, laid out in streets, with their officers'
tents in rear, stretched the shelter-tents of the troops.
I confess that my first feeling on entering my own
mansion was one not of gratitude, but inquiry, the
mental question being how many hours this was to
last. There's a pleasant sense of uncertainty in regard
to such matters as food and lodging in the army. Today I heard for the first time that Hooker commanded
our corps, and Burnside our wing of the army, two
fighting generals. It was evident that we should
have something to do. Our adjutant general, who
had left us at Upton Hill in order to enjoy a few days'
illness in Washington, came in upon us to-night, still
looking thin and pale, but as glad to join us as we
were to welcome him.
Tuesday, Sept. 9th. Our division was ordered to
march at noon, but I was sent back to Washington
with a supply train, and by eleven o'clock that night
had started with it to return to the front, moved out
some five miles, and parked the wagons to rest the
animals. The whole country was full of soldiers, so
that I was not much surprised, on knocking at the
door of the wayside inn, to be informed by a person
in a night-cap that not only was every bed occupied,
but also the parlor and kitchen floors. The moonlight had already disclosed to me little groups of men 
WASHINGTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
Bivouacking in the piazza, so I concluded that the hotel was full. But at a farm-house near by, in a venerable four-poster, I secured my quantum of sleep, and,
after a substantial breakfast next morning, again took
the road.
After a while I left the train in charge of my sergeant, and pushed on ahead, to reach, about 2 P.M.,
our division in camp near the town of Unity. - Pleasant exceedingly looked the tented city, nestling with
its ten thousand citizens in a picturesque vale hemmed
in by woods. I found our general and staff engaged
on very important duty at our mess-table, which was
sheltered from the sun by a fly. Another hungry
man soon joined the party, to receive from the surgeon a ration of roast beef which had been roasted in
a frying-pan, and- of other delicacies secured by our
caterer in our late passage through Washington. A
pleasant mess-table that always was, around which
glowed a friendly feeling, deepened in fervor by our
common experiences, and binding us to each other and
to our honored chief by associations never to be forgotten. What though the fare was sometimes meagre,
so was not the spirit of good fellowship which flashed
forth in many a happy jest and pleasing anecdote.
We were still sitting at the mess-table when the
clatter of hoofs attracted our attention, and a dispatch
was soon brought to the general. Before Captain H.
broke the envelope we knew instinctively that it was
"marohing orders."  Having already passed most of
the day in the saddle, I was rather disappointed; and
as the starting of a division with its long trains requires time, I flung myself upon a truss of hay and
rested more than an hour. - At last all had left the
157 
158   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTI,E-FIELD.
field except myself and a disappointed sutler, who had
set out his tempting wares just in time to see his customers march away. The natives were already coming in to seize upon the cracker-boxes, barrels, and
other debris of a broken camp; the last wagon was
moving out of sight; so I at length departed, and in
fifteen minutes was riding with the general at the head
of the brigade.
This day we marched perhaps three miles, to accomplish which the division was kept in the road four
hours, and finally had to bivouac after nightfall in
the midst of a cold rain.  Not a very profitable day's
work, and rather a comfortless prospect at its close.
But by 9 P.M. we had our tents up; the men were
making ready for sleep, having finished their supper.
All about us were the bivouacs of a large army, reddening the misty evening air with an unusual glow.
Still rumbled the long wagon-trains over the road;
but in another hour all was still, and sleep settled
down upon the Army of the Potomac.
Wednesday, Sept. 10th. "Wake up, captain; we're
ordered to march, and breakfast will soon be ready,"
was the pleasant greeting flung through my tent-folds
early this morning by my friend the adjutant general.
So I took ten minutes to reflect about it, then rose
from my six feet by two of camp-bed, shaved by a
mirror at least four inches in diameter, washed in a tin
basin well battered by transportation, and carried off
my camp-stool just in time to join our staff -at the
open-air mess-table. While we were eating our tents
were struck and packed, and before we had concluded the leading brigade of the division was moving upthe road. As we were now drawing near to the ene 
WASHINGTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
my, the wagon-trains were consolidated and moved in
the rear.
Our march to-day was not a long one, but very tedious on account of the frequent halts caused by the
movement of so large an army in front of us over the
same road. Through a pleasant farming country, undulating and picturesque, under rather a hot sun, our
boys marched and halted, and reached, about 6 P.M.,
our camping-groundcl near Lisbon. Here our artillery
and infantry were drawn up to cover the Lisbon crossroads, and our camps were arranged after the usual
form of a line of battle, fronting the presumed locality
of the rebel army. It seemed as if our baggage trains
would never come up; miles of wagons rolled by, but
none turned off into our particular field. Near a pretty grove with running water we had selected a spot
for head-quarters; our horses were tethered, and we
were anxious to have our tents pitched before dark,
and something made ready to strengthen the inner
man. It was getting dark before the voice of our indefatigable acting quarter-master was heard urging on
his drivers, and in an hour we were tented, fed, and
comfortable.
Our next day's march commenced at 9 A.M., and
offered no new experience. Part of the day I rode
with our division staff, and dined at the wayside inn
of a good Union woman at New Market, whose sentiments were better than her dinner; two or three general officers partook of her hospitality, and what was
wanting in luxury was made up in pleasant conversation and lively humor. Speaking of humor, one hears
sometimes a good deal of genuine fun as he rides slow-*
ly along with the troops. A party of herdsmen
159 
160   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
amused me to-day as they manoeuvred their battalion
of cattle, every order being given in true military
style, as if the herd were a small army. On being
asked "What division is that," the sergeant in charge
at once replied, " IHook-er's division, sir;" and, chuckling at his own conceit, he followed his four-legged infantry. As our troops marched through New Market,
a good deal of enthusiasm bubbled up to welcome
them, and at 7 P.M. we went into camp just beyond
the little town.
So, slowly feeling our way, we moved against the
invading enemy. Fine marching weather; a land
flowing with milk and honey; a general tone of Union sentiment among the people, who, being little
cursed by slavery, had not lost their loyalty; scenery
not grand, but picturesque, all contributed to make
this march delightful. Of course there were frequent
rumors of expected battle, but these had now lost their
power to excite our interest. I bear in my memory
but few incidents worthy of record during these days;
the men were in fine spirits, and now we began to meet
little squads of rebel prisoners taken in the cavalry
skirmishing ahead of us.
One picture framed itself in my recollection during
our next day's (Saturday) march. Our horses had
fared very poorly of late at the hands of our quartermaster, and I was standing near a barn wherein my
half-starved mare was enjoying a feed of oats. Looking behind, I could see the long column of troops
winding around the summit of the mountain over
which I had just passed, their bayonets glistening in
the sun, and the mighty coil of armed men stretching
down the mountain sides, past the spot where I was
If 
WASHINGTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
standing, until it was lost to view by the winding of
the road far in front. It was the best view of an army
on its march I had ever enjoyed.
In the upper part of the barn were some twenty
rebels; some sick, others wounded in the late cavalry
skirmishes, and left by the Southern army as it fell
back before our advance. A guard or two attended
to their comfort, but they all looked wan, and pale,
and thin from the many privations and fatigues to
which they had been exposed. The good farmer told
me that most of the large body of rebels who had
passed his house were half-clothed and dilapidated;
but I knew how well these men fought, and his statement elicited not my contempt, but rather my respect
for men who, under such difficulties, and want of food
and clothing, have stood up bravely and persistently
in a bad cause. These men must be sincere. As
a friend once said, "though not inspired of God, they
certainly are possessed with the devil," and act bravely the part which their master commands them to
play.
And this warlike South is fearfully in earnest. The
leaders in this rebellion know full well that the North
never desired to interfere with a single constitutional
right, disturb a single domestic institution-have, indeed, always been too ready to listen to every Southern appeal; but the large mass of the people are ignorant; the number of those who can not even read
or write is astonishingly large, and the newspapers,
the only teachers of the people, have been controlled
by ambitious and unprincipled men, determined to
rule or to ruin. What wonder that the Southern ear
has been poisoned by the whisperings of the serpent?
161 
162   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
what wonder that to most of these poor fellows, now
suffering every thing, their sacrifice seems a pious offering upon the altar of their country and their God?
We must respect such a sentiment, however much we
may wonder at it, and my little word of pity was not
held back from these poor wounded rebels in the wayside barn. Blinded by ignorance and prejudice, fed
on falsehood until they have learned to look upon the
peaceful North as ambitious to subjugate and enslave
them, they are the victims of an institution which
pampers a few lazy thousands, while it condemns the
millions to a lean and beggared existence. Gladly
would I welcome them back to the manifold blessings
of that government whose ten thousand benefits they
will only begin to discover should this wicked rebellion succeed.
I have learned from this war to give to the South
credit for one quality I did not suppose it possessedthat of endurance. Five years of my boyhood I passed
in a Southern school, and have mingled with Southerners at college and elsewhere, and had come to think
of them as men of show rather than substance-of momentary bravado rather than true courage-of flash
and pinchbeck assumption rather than real chivalry.
But I have found out that they are patient and can
endure; and, despite the many exceptional instances
of gross brutality and neglect of the courtesies of honorable warfare, it seems to me that they have, in general, borne themselves in this war chivalrously as well
as bravely. I do not pretend that the Southerner illustrates the highest type of the gentleman. HIe is
rather the gentleman of the Middle Ages-ignorant,
overbearing, insolent, but with a good deal of the leav 
WASHEINGTON TO FREDERICK CITY.
en of a true chivalry; not a Bayard certainly, but
more after the style of a Black Douglas or a Harry
Hotspur.
And I am inclined to think that we of the North
are to be better understood hereafter by the South.
They had learned to appraise the Northern valor and
principle by the standard of our political subserviency.
They went into this rebellion with no idea that the
North would dare to resist in arms-the poor, cowardly, truckling North, which they had frightened into
compromises, and then frightened into breaking them,
and which had so long trembled in the national Congress beneath the Southern rod. This mistake is gradually being corrected also. The hands accustomed so
long to peaceful labor only are learning the trick of
war; the muscles trained only at the plow or in the
workshop are becoming skilled in the use of the musket and the sword; and it is evident that the North
has not only the courage, but also the skill needed to
put down this rebellion. The men who have stood
against each other in the battles of this war can never
fling upon each other the charge of cowardice-must
acknowledge and respect in each other their common
manhood; so much, at least, is gained.
Leaving the wounded rebels, I paused a while in
the shade to see our columns move by. From St.
Paul to Passamaquoddy, every state had its representatives-next, perhaps, to a regiment of farmers from
Wisconsin moved a regiment of lumbermen from
Maine; the New York fireman found himself in the
same brigade with the shoemaker from Lynn or the
fisherman from Marblehead-the whole mass fused
into a common brotherhood by a common patriotism.
Will not this war do much to unify these separate
163 
164   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
states, consolidate and weld into one these distant com munities?  Fortunately for us at the North, our edu cation is expansive, enlarges the mind to the grasp of
national ideas, and is thus free from the belittling state
jealousies of the South. Still it is manifest to the most
casual observer that we have far too little affectionate
loyalty in America. Stand with a party of Englishmen when " God save the Queen" thrills through the
air; talk with a Frenchman of his country and her
destiny; pause in your pilgrimage through the Alps
to inquire of your guide as to William Tell, and you
will see how near and personal is to each this affectionate feeling of nationality.  Are we not also to have
a more enthusiastic love for the old flag, a deeper personal affection for our whole country, now that we
have followed the one into the jaws of death, and have
made such sacrifices for the other?
But I must hurry on, or this day's march will never
be ended. It was interrupted by few tedious halts, so
that by 2 P.M. our division went into camp on the
Monocacy River, a lovely spot now crowded with
troops. From the hill we could see the pretty city of
Frederick hiding away in the foliage, all around us
were tents and artillery, and soon came floating up
strains of pleasant music from the camps of the new
regiments. Our own head-quarters were fixed at a
farm-house, and the staff tents were pitched in the
yard. Our caterer gave us timely notice that something remarkable in the way of dinner might be expected, and postponed it until, all our duties being accomplished, we could really enjoy it. My post-prandial hours until midnight were devoted to writing, and
before I sought repose all was still through the immense camps about me. 
BATTLE OF SOUTHI MOUNTAIN.
CHAPTER XVII.
BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.
UNDAY, September 14th. A little after daybreak
this morning an orderly came to my tent to an nounce that we were to march at once; but, while tents
were packing, we had plenty of time for breakfast.
Little did we think, as we sat around that cheerful
mess-table, through what a scene of danger, excitement, and death we were to pass before sunset. It was
a fine marching day, every one was in good spirits,
while of the exact whereabouts of the enemy we might
speculate or conjecture; but did not know. We had
heard that Burnside had taken possession of Frederick
a day or two before, the little squads of rebel prisoners
occasionally passing us indicated the proximity of our
foe, but how, when, and where he was to give us the
meeting was quite concealed from us.
Our march through the pretty city of Frederick was
a perfect ovation -one continuous waving of flags,
fluttering of handkerchiefs, tossing of bouquets, and
cheering by our men, who grew fairly hoarse before
they had passed through its main street. Men, women,
and little children were equally enthusiastic.  I understood, however, that the wealthy slaveholders did not
in general join in this loyal demonstration, nor could
it be expected. Without dwelling long on this subject, and looking at it from the practical point of view
of a "down-East Yankee," I calculate that the net
165 
166   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
value to us in the South Mountain battle of this new
inspiration which came in upon us from the eyes and
fingers of our fair friends in Frederick was equal to
about one thousand fresh men.
Once clear from this pleasant ripple of patriotic sympathy, we made a rapid march over the wide national
road, through the little village of Middletown and the
lovely valley beyond, with the wagon-trains in our
rear, and nothing to encumber our rapid advance.
And there was sufficient reason for haste, for not long
after we left Frederick the booming of distant cannon
announced that our advance had found the enemy,
and that a battle was impending.
One of our staff jests at such a time as this was
based upon the old story of the sportsman who, gun
in hand, had toiled for two days over brake and fern,
through forest and mountain path, in the eager pursuit of a bear.  Near the close of the day the footprints of a gentleman of the ursine species were distinctly visible, and pretty soon a growl from a rocky
ledge near by attested his presence. Halting, scratching his head, our hero turned to his brother sportsman: "Look here, Bill, these tracks are getting a little
too fresh. I believe I don't want any bear after all,
so I'll go back home."
I know that there was one man in that column,
and presume that there were very many who, as we
gazed up at that steep mountain side, and thought of
our wives and little ones at home, sympathized a good
deal with the honest bear-hunter. The eager enthusiasm of the military novice had been toned down by
experience; the exciting edge of novelty had worn
off; the terrible scenes we had witnessed had left an 
BATTLE OF SOUTHI MOUNTAIN.
ineffaceable impression; nothing but a sense of duty,
the innate pride of man, and the hope that through this
bloody lane might come peace and safety to the country, kept us to our duty. Marshal Lannes once said,
"None but a coward will boast that he never was
afraid," and I have met thus far with but one man,
modest as he was courageous, who, in our review of
two battles wherein he had displayed great bravery,
said to me that he could not remember even a momentary feeling of fear.  I feel sure that he spoke the
truth, but his case was exceptional.
I do not doubt that many men have a constitutional
fondness for fighting; that many others, with little to
live for, standing, perhaps, on the narrow edge of a
path of desperate despair, are wholly careless and reckless of consequences; that in some breasts an overpowering ambition quenches all thought of danger;
while others- the few and chosen ones - are really
able to offer up their lives, and, harder still, to say
good-by to their beloved, as a free and unreserved sac
rifice at the shrine of their country. I suppose we all
ought to feel thus, and, indeed, there are hours in a
man's experience when he does feel thus. But human
nature seldom escapes the lower attractions of this
dear old earth of ours, and probably very few of us
were burning with eagerness to charge up those
heights before us, upon whose well-wooded sides occasional smoke-wreaths and the roar of cannon attest the
presence of the enemy.
And yet there is no sign of shrinking, nor will there
be, with, of course, some exceptions, when the hour for
storming that height shall come. The division pushes
on with unusual rapidity; there is less straggling than
167 
168 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
usual. The column is soon marching through the excited streets of Middletown, over the rolling paradise
beyond, to be halted about noon, after a march of
twelve miles, on Catoctin Creek, near the foot of South
Mountain.  Here I left the command, and rode on
ahead to get a nearer view of the situation.  On either
side of the wood, batteries of artillery and ammunition
trains were snugly sheltered in the ravines, for the
storming of these heights was work mainly for infantry alone. Some of our batteries were, however, engaging the enemy in the woods on the left of the road,
high up the pass, and two or three were in position on
the lower elevations, trying occasionally the effect of
a shot at long range. Bodies of troops were already
massed in the fields just at the base of the mountain,
especially on the left of the road.
I had not been sitting long on my horse, trying to
get some idea of the projected movement, before I saw
General Burnside and his staff taking a look at the
heights from a point near by. He was in command
of General Reno's corps, already partially engage.d,
and of our own corps, under command of General
Hooker, not yet brought into action. Shortly after
General M'Clellan joined him, and I awaited with
much interest the result of their deliberations.
The broad turnpike winding up and through the
pass looked safe and quiet. I saw no rebel battalions
threatening our passage, no cannon crouching openmouthed to warn us off from the narrow entrance.
Peaceful, and calm, and beautiful the hills on either
side the pass slept in the summer sunshine. Gently
over the face of their dense forests swept the shadows
of flitting clouds. But what mean those quick-rush 
BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.
ing smoke-puffs just rising above the trees, and the
heavy boom which follows them? Look quickly off
to the left, and you will see corresponding smoke puffs, and hear almost instantaneous response to the
rebel batteries from our own artillery, now, as they
tell us, seeking, with the aid of infantry, to dislodge
the foe that stops the way. Listen a while, and you
will hear the rattle of musketry. Ah! those deceit ful forests! they are full of an unseen foe; and now,
perhaps, invisibly to us, the opposing cohorts stealth ily advance or rush madly against each other. The
smooth white turnpike begins to look a little danger.
ous to us; it was best to wait a while before attempt.
ing its passage.
Hoping to get a better view, I now rode on a little
farther to a house on the roadside, near which a branch
road comes down from the mountain on the left of the
pass. It seemed quite untenanted, but I was told that
its occupants had taken refuge in the cellar, an occasional shell having strayed this way during the day's
fighting. IHere I saw some of our wounded brought
down on hand-litters, and resting a while under the
protecting lee of this brick tenement, and from them
got some vague idea of the struggle going on above.
But as to the main details of this engagement on the
left of the pass, the capture and recapture of one of
our batteries, the gallant fighting of General Reno's
corps, and the death of their honored chief, I remained
in ignorance until the morrow.
But it was time to return to my brigade, for I was
disappointed in my expectation that the division would
advance in this direction. Our 4th brigade was drawn
up behind a battery a little way down the road —a
/r
169 
170   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
brigade which, later in the day, was to illustrate by
the most determined bravery the gallantry of the men
of Wisconsin and Indiana. Other movements had
taken place during my brief absence; large bodies of
troops were now drawn up in line of battle, and still
from the heights above broke forth at intervals the
booming of the opposing batteries. It was evident
that the attempt to cross the mountain was to be made
before nightfall.
To General Hooker had been assigned the storming
of the hill on the right of the pass, and I now learned
that the three remaining brigades of our division had
moved off on a road skirting its base at right angles
to the turnpike. At various points on this road I met
bodies of our troops moving off to the right, and, looking up, I could see the long line of our skirmishers
already half way up the mountain. With what almost breathless anxiety is their progress watched by
thousands of anxious and eager men, as slowly, slowly, now halting as if to listen, now crouching a while
on the ground, with muskets ever ready for instant
service, they push up toward the woods, every tree in
which may conceal a rebel sharpshooter. These men
belong to our second, General Patrick's, brigade; our
own brigade must be very near them. A few hundred feet in their rear moves the long dark line of the
reserves, upon whom the skirmishers are to rally when
they have unmasked the enemy.
But I am now becoming anxious to find the bri,gade, and can not pause to gaze longer on this exciting
picture, and a turn in the road soon shuts it out from
view, and brings me to the spot where General Hooker, with his staff, is directing the movements of the 
BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.
troops destined to carry the heights. I learn that my,
own brigade is already part way up, and I am soon
passing the reserves, who have not commenced the
ascent, reach the brigade, and climb with the general
through the corn and wheat fields which clothe the
lower half of South Mountain.
The brigade is still moving in column when I join
it, but shortly after we form in line of battle, and now
begin to move quickly up the steep acclivity. The
rattle of musketry in front of us is now growing louder and louder; it is evident that the skirmishers have
unmasked the enemy; that the other brigades of our
division are engaged; that we are needed at the summit. So steep is now the ascent, that several of the
staff dismount and lead up their horses, that they may
be fresh for the work ahead. Passing through the
last cornfield, we reach an elevated plateau very near
the summit, fronted and flanked by woods, through
which the rebel bullets are already flying over our
heads. The twilight hour has come; the air is bland
and delicious; and, while the men halt for breath, we
turn and look back at the valley through which we
have been marching to-day. Frederick City is not
visible, as a turn in the valley interposes a hilly elbow;
but Middletown lies below us, while stretching off toward the north and east is a lovely swale, buttressed
by hilly ranges, smiling with orchards, fields of ripening grain, and cheerful farm-houses-truly a valley
of content and beauty. There is little of the sublime
about this view, but it is very soothing, and offers so
strong a contrast to our present fearful business as to
daguerreotype itself upon my imagination forever.
Ah! how the thought of the Sunday evening calm
171
.1 
172   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
now brooding over certain familiar streets and homecircles adds one feature more to this impressive contrast!
"What a magnificent view!" exclaims the general,
as he turns in his saddle to inspect his brigade, and
catches one glance of the beautiful panorama.  A
moment's breathing period, and he orders the brigade
to march by the flank into the woods on our right,
where, facing to the front, we move up at double-quick
to meet the enemy. The little twigs above us, splintered and cut by the bullets, are cracking and falling
about our heads; here and there a coward or two
comes skulking out from the fight, a wounded brave'
limps past or lies half exhausted at the foot of a protecting tree. Yonder, behind a hickory, crouches one
in the uniform of an officer-shame on his cowardice
and evil example; on the instant his name and regiment are demanded, and he is driven back to his duty,
perhaps, so singular is human nature, to fight bravely
through the rest of the battle.
As we press on, our brigade line wavers a little, the
flanks pressing ahead of the centre, or one flank outmarching the other a little, yet preserving, on the
whole, a good, strong, steady line of attack. The air
is now full of shrieking lead, and we hear just ahead
of us the cheers and yells of the opposing troops, the
never-ceasing rattle of musketry, and all the awful din
of battle. Out of this carnival of noise and fire rushes
the adjutant of the 1st brigade, a noble specimen of
American chivalry, exclaiming, "Our brigade can not
sustain itself much longer, as we are nearly out of
ammunition.  For God's sake, to the front!"  At tie
word the brigade is moved up even mbre rapidly, 
BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.
restrained, however, by the field and staff officers still
riding in front: "Steady, boys, steady!" is the word
all along the line. Another minute, and the edge of
the woods is gained, and there at the fence which
skirts it is Hatch's brigade, standing, falling, desperately fighting at this bloodily-contested boundary.
Cheer upon cheer from our men goes up to heaven,
and now, in admirable order, they rush into their
places, Hatch's brigade falling back to rest a while
after their fierce encounter.
Beyond this fence is an open space of about a hundred feet in depth between the fence and a cornfield,
and in this space a strong force of the enemy, partially protected by rocky ledges and inequalities of surface, forming natural rifle-pits, is pressing heavily upon
our position, charging gallantly two or three times, to
be as gallantly repulsed before they reach the fence,
and sweeping it meanwhile with sheets of fire. Conscious of the weakness of our own line, with no reserves near us, unable to form any idea of the force
opposed to us, the only thing to be done is to hold
this fence at all hazards, lest the enemy, breaking
through at this point, shall flank and put to rout the
troops on both sides of us. It remains for the staff to
watch closely the line, cheer and encourage the men,
look out for a moment of panic, and so keep all to
their duty.
And hold it they do, inflexibly. For half an hour
against this barrier of Northern patriotism dashes
wave after wave of Southern treason, to be again and
again hurled back broken and discomfited. Individual instances of valor are not wanting: the colorbearer of the 76th New York rashly leaps out to the
173 
174  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
front, waves his flag, exclaiming, " There, boys, come
up to that!" and falls in the instant, shot through the
head. But why attempt to designate, where all did
so well?  At intervals a lull, a mere pattering of mus ketry, and then the rebel storm bursts forth afresh,
and -before it some of our men go down, or slowly fall
back, wounded and bleeding, to the rear. The twi light gloom is descending, throwing the rebel den into
shadow; the darkness adds new horror to the scene;
and suddenly a portion of one of our regiments begins
to crowd up together, the men pressing against each
other, and firing into the air in a sort of frenzy. Terribly contagious is a panic like this. Unless it be instantly quelled, the men will be shooting each other,
or rushing to the rear in sudden and disastrous rout.'Somehow and swiftly, military authority must assert
itself  The first thing to do is to order them to cease
firing. To shout forth such an order at such a time
would be like attempting to drown the thunder of
Niagara. It must be driven in, as it were, individually, mouth to ear, and almost with the point of the
sword. Somehow the effort succeeds; discipline asserts itself, the rank is re-formed, our brave boys are
themselves again.
Before the fight is half over an aid dashes up with
the news that the gallant General Hatch, the division
commander, is severely wounded, and our general is
thus in command of the division. Our only colonel
has already been crippled by a wound, a lieutenant
colonel takes command of our brigade, while a captain
finds himself at the head of a regiment. Our 1st
brigade is in the rear, having exhausted its ammunition; our 3d brigade holds the line on our right; 
BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.
our 4th is on duty perhaps a mile away on our left.
Our general, therefore, remains with his old brigade
as the most central position.
And now there are intervals of comparative calm,
and we begin to congratulate ourselves that the baffled
enemy has departed. But the contest is not yet over;
for suddenly out of the darkness in front of us leaps
another volley, wounding hardly a man, but so near
as to seem in our very faces. Along the files of perhaps a single company, gradually growing louder and
louder, rises a low murmur, not like an exultant cheer,
but rather a cry, excited and panic-stricken, and suddenly half a dozen or more start off for the rear. One
minute more, and probably the whole regiment will
be on the wing. To meet them on the instant with
the threat to run the first man through who moves a
foot farther to the rear seems the best thing to do, and
it proves entirely successful. A staff officer exclaims,
"Why, boys, whatare yourunningfor? we've beaten
the enemy.  Three cheers for victory."  A wild, irregular cheer bursts forth upon the evening air, and
every man of them once more takes his position at
the fence.
It is indeed true that we have beaten the enemy;
these impetuous attacks are only his last flurries; he
is, though we do not know it, and can not discover it
in the darkness, at his last gasp. It is now so dark
that our men can only aim at the flashing of the rebel
muskets, and these rebel muskets have ceased firing.
The general now orders our brigade also to cease firing; an advance into-the unknown localities in front
would be sheer madness, and so our men stand silently and grimly at the fence, while for several minutes,
~
175 
176   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
as it seemed, hardly a single report breaks the stillness of the night. Just as we are saying to each other, with thankful hearts, "This fight is over," the enemy, thinking perhaps that we may have fallen back or
are unprepared for him, charges desperately up toward
the fence, delivers a volley, too high as usual, which
shrieks through the air, followed by a continuous fire
for a minute or two minutes perhaps, though it seemed
very much more. It is no use; they hurl themselves
against this living barrier in vain, and are soon compelled to fall back before the terrific volleys of our
men. To me this is the most impressive incident in
the fight; the utter stillness of the night, broken in
upon by the cheers and yells of the opposing troops;
the rattle of the musketry discharged, and the wailing
of the bullets, followed by a stillness deep and intense,
as if each party held its breath to listen for the next
move of its enemy.
The contest is nearly over; only a few scattering
volleys after this, except on the left of our brigade,
where a desperate'effort is made to turn our left flank,
to meet which the 7th Indiana and 76th New York
swing a little to the left, and so repulse the attack successfully. Our division is now relieved by the division of General Ricketts, which moves up and takes
post at the fence, the officers dressing the ranks as if
preparing for a review; it is evident that the position
is in safe hands; but our general orders our brigade to
lie down on their arms a hundred feet from the fence,
as we have still some ammunition left, and a night-attack seems probable. A few more scattering volleys,
and at this particular point all is still.
General Patrick's brigade, having done its work no 
BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.
bly, is now resting on our right, while on our left, but
near to the turnpike, the brigade of Gibbon is still
fighting very desperately. Our own contest appears to
be over for the present, but we listen to the unceasing
rattle of this musketry on our left with great anxiety.
At one moment it seems as if our troops must be falling back, at another the firing sounds farther off, as if
they were gradually driving the enemy from the hill.
The excitement of our own fight is over; the woods
are now so dark that objects ten feet distant are undistinguishable, and the thought of a night-attack upon
our exhausted troops inspires me with dread. A prisoner just brought in informs us that the troops in
front are chiefly Virginians under command of General Pickett, and that Longstreet himself has been here,
striving in every way to encourage the men, calling
them his pets, and coaxing and imploring them to
their work. Already we had some idea of the success of his efforts, but we were to see it more fearfully
evidenced when daylight disclosed the battle-field on
the morrow.
Gradually the musketry on our left ceases; silently, but fully prepared, Ricketts's men hold the fence,
while our own little brigade rests upon its arms.  Our
mounted orderlies seem to have had business elsewhere, and we are compelled to stable our horses by
tying them to the trees. The wounded are now cared
for, our hospitals being fixed about half way down the
hill; and after a while, the necessary dispositions being completed, we lie down, wrapped in our cloaks, and
seek repose. Far from feeling easy in my own mind,
apprehensive of the result of a night-attack should theenemy attempt it, uncertain as to the issue of the
112
177 
178   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
struggle on our left, I lie down as one rests by the
wayside, and not as anticipating a good night's sleep.
But, despite all this uneasiness, despite the excitement
of the evening, despite the dead now sleeping, some
within ten feet of me, exhausted Nature asserts her
claims, the myriad reflections of such an hour hold
only momentary sway, and I am soon asleep.
I have spoken of the storm of bullets which swept
our ranks to-night; and it may be asked-a question
I have asked myself a hundred times-How is it that
any escaped alive? This is to me the great wonder,
the crowning mystery of war. In this contest, so stubbornly fought, for the possession of Turner's Gap, the
loss along our whole line was 328 killed and 1463
wounded, and yet I have sought to give a fair illustration of our own part in the conflict. It is marvelous,
this waste of ammunition in battle. It takes, so it is
stated, nearly a man's weight in lead to kill him. The
shrieking volleys, seemingly about your ears, fly above
you; the men, excited, and anxious to fire as frequently as possible, discharge their muskets with no pretense
at aim, thankful only that they are permitted to do so
alive. I have more to say on this subject.
If I were asked what was the most awful sensation
during this battle-houLr, I should speak of the quiver
of my nerves when once or twice my mare stumbled
in the darkness over the body of some dead brace.
It is not true, as a general thing, that a wounded man
groans loudly or utters any cries upon the battle-field;
he either limps off or is carried to the rear, or he lies
down with his hurt quiet and still. Think for a moment of thus treading upon one of these silent wounded, every hair in whose head was sacred to me! This
horror, at least, thank God! was spared to mne. 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM.  179
CHAPTER XVIII.
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM.
ONDAY, September 15th. Our sleep last night
was rather nominal than real, broken by frequent interruptions, as from time to time reports were
brought in to one or the other of the generals lying
near; and it was rather shivery also, our cloaks not
affording sufficient protection against the chilliness of
the air, especially as we had lain down to a dinnerless
and supperless sleep. Our little snatches of oblivion
served mainly to pass away the hours of darkness, and
with the first gray of morning we were up and moving among the men.  The first inquiry was, "Where
are the enemy?" General Ricketts's troops still held
the fence, but in front of it there were no signs of the
foe; all was still, and the little interval between us and
the cornfield seemed untenanted save where, through
the morning mists, we could dimly discern the prostrate forms of the rebel dead.
A soldier or two now ventured out over these rocky
ledges. Suddenly from behind a stump a long, lank
stripling of perhaps seventeen years, without weapon,
and dressed in the usual gray uniform, leaped eagerly
forward, exclaiming, "Don't shoot! I'm your prisoner!"  When brought before the general, he described,
with a childlike simplicity very amusing, his late experiences and sensations. The boy had evidently never before broken loose from the maternal apron-string, 
180   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
and told us, with fearful emphasis, how he had been
conscripted, drilled, and finally brought up this mountain to be shot at, winding up somewhat as follows: "I
told'em I was a coward, and couldn't fight, but they
drove me up here, where I came near being killed; so
I dropped, and crawled behind a stump, and waited
there all night." But he didn't know whether the enemy was still in the cornfield or not, so we learned little of any value, though his quaint remarks upon his
own cowardice afforded some merriment.
No one had yet explored the cornfield, and a large
body of men might easily be concealed there; but half
a dozen of our men were now moving among the rebel
dead, and I was convinced that it was safe enough to
go out also, being thereunto moved by a desire to see
some of our late antagonists. So closely had their desperate charges brought them to our line, that only ten
paces distant from the fence lay some of the poor fellows-one resting with head on arm, as if asleep; others lying across each other, but most of them looking with calmly-staring eyes upward toward heaven.
Among them, as also among our own dead, I was surprised to notice that the features bore usually a placid expression, with little trace of battle excitement or
death-agony.
Among the foremost lay an officer, afterward identified as Colonel Strange, of Virginia, evidently killed
just at the moment when, every nerve at its highest
tension, every courageous impulse at fever heat, he
was leading his men in a most desperate charge, Upon
his stern, determined face still lingers that look of battle, his right hand still grasps his sword. This man's
death was evidently a great loss to the enemy. 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM.  181
A few feet to his left I noticed another officer, and
still farther on a young lieutenant, whose very handsome face and placid expression greatly attracted me.
As I stood and looked down earnestly, as if, perhaps,
I might read in that countenance some fragments of
his history, I felt that this was a man who probably
illustrated some of the best features of the Southern
character-a warm-hearted, generous fellow, whom
while living I could have loved. There's a sad gap
somewhere caused by this death; perhaps the plain
gold ring on his finger might give us the key to his
whole life-story. How all feeling of enmity disappears
in presence of these white faces, these eyes gazing upward so fixedly in the gray of the morning hour!
The ground was of course strewn with muskets,
swords, and military trappings of every description;
but I needed no such mementoes to aid my recollections of this battle. Some of our men were, however,
picking up these spoils of war, and on returning from
the left I saw two or three kneeling and stooping
around my lieutenant; hastening up, I was horrified
by seeing one wretch trying to force off with his knife
the plain gold ring. I have rarely been more indignant, and drove the harpy off from his prey. Shortly
afterward a detail was sent out to bring in the body
of Colonel Strange, and all other soldiers were ordered back inside the fence.
More than thirty of the rebel dead were lying within fifty feet of the fence; I did not visit the cornfield,
but learned that here also the dead were very numerous. On our side the loss was much less, but here,
also, our men were busily engaged in collecting the.
fallen, and ranging them side by side, each regiment 
182   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
or brigade by itself, that their own immediate com rades might lay them to rest with the scant ceremoni al of a soldier's burial on the battle-field. No little
firing-squad poured forth a farewell volley; no min ister read over their graves the beautiful burial-serv ice; no coffin incased their limbs; just as they were,
in their uniforms crimsoned with patriotic blood, they
were taken closely to the bosom of Earth the mother,
and on the very summit of the mountain, in a spot
consecrate by their heroic sacrifice, and glorious as the
classic ground of victory, they slept well.
In looking back at these and kindred experiences,
I sometimes wonder at my own apparent callousness
of feeling, and have often asked myself how it was
that men-our own staff, for example-whom I know
to be tender-hearted and humane, could pass through
these scenes so unmoved. I suppose that repetition
blunts the edge of feeling, but presume that it is mainly to be attributed to the excitement of the hour, and
to the general tone of feeling induced by the unnatural life we have been leading. Things which would
have greatly impressed us had now become matters
of course, fell in naturally with every-day duty; and
I have actually been more moved by the sight of a
serious street-accident at home than by all the scenes
through which we have passed this morning. The
whole sad picture framed itself with much of the unreality of a dream, and so did not come home for the
time into our very consciousness.
It was now fairly sunrise, and it was made known
that the enemy had retreated, and that we could claim
an unmistakable victory. We were yet to learn how
the rebel rout, flinging away their guns, had fled head 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM. 183
long down the mountain, or dispersed through its forests to give themselves up in scores as prisoners of
war. Our little brigade was now permitted to light
fires and make coffee, and, by mutual consent, a search
was made in the staff saddle-bags for something to eat;
it resulted only in a limited supply of hard bread, but
we sat down together and made the best of it. liardly, however, had we finished our first biscuit, when
General Ricketts and staff drew near, with an orderly who had just brought up a basketful of breakfast,
and made us free of its contents with a kindly hospitality.
While thus engaged, orders came up to our general
to march the division toward Boonesborough, and the
staff were speedily in the saddle, bearing orders to
brigade commanders, and to the artillery batteries still
quietly resting under the eastern slope, and to the
wagon-trains parked in the rear; the temporary fieldhospitals were abandoned, and our wounded were sent
back to Frederick in the ambulances.
As I rode back under the bullet- scarred trees
through which we had pushed last evening, and out
over the plateau where the rebel bullets had first saluted us, I met little squads of stragglers finding their
way back to their regiments, and caught up with a
few of our slightly wounded making their way on foot
toward the rear. From this outlook I could see the
turnpike crowded with troops, artillery, and wagons
hurrying up the pass; the fields on either hand were
white with army wagons still in park, while far down
the road toward Frederick pushed on a living tide of
men. As I drew near and mingled with the crowd,
the joy and satisfaction every where evident, the joke! 
184   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
at the expense of the enemy flung from file to file, the
very marching of the men, indicated that this was not
a retreat, but an actual pursuit of a flying enemy.
Volunteer bayonets not only think, but they talk a
good deal also, and this morning they were enjoying
full license in this direction.
Having fulfilled my errand to the rear, I gave my
half-starved horse the rein, and permitted him to jog
up the road with the crowd, enjoying heartily the humor which sparkled here and there in the column; to
me the sensation was novel and peculiar; how it feels
to be retreating I knew all about, but this was, I believe, my first experience in pursuing a retreating enemy.  "My Maryland" was now sung by our men with
an alteration of the words to suit each singer. The
new regiments were especially enthusiastic, and I had
not ridden long near the column before I found my
own spirits rising into something like the old enthusiasm. There is no army ration, after all, so good for
troops as an occasional touch of victory.
On the national road, and near the summit of the
pass, stands a wayside inn, kept by a good Union man.
The rebels had ransacked and dismantled it a day or
two before; every thing eatable and drinkable had
gone; but now its yard, piazza, and rooms were crowded with Union generals and their staff. The first
point to which I headed was the barn, and here I
found a small quantity of hay, of which my mare was
soon making her first meal for twenty-four hours. I
found the general and staff near by; the division was
resting in the fields close to the road, awaiting the artillery and ammunition trains, without which it could_
not go forward. In an hour or more the general 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM. 185
moved off at the head of his division, and I sat down
on the porch, constantly interested in gazing upon the
moving mass of troops, meeting many acquaintances,
and glad to have so good an opportunity of seeing the
leading generals.
A counter-current of rebel prisoners was now setting quite strongly from the front toward Frederick,
and I got into quite an interesting conversation with
an officer of a South Carolina regiment, one of a party
who were quenching their thirst at the tavern pump.
Unlike most of "the chivalry," he was a quiet, earnest
man, admitted with perfect frankness last night's defeat, but kindled into a fervor, which seemed to have
little infusion of personal bitterness, as he assured me
that the South would fight to the end. The remainder of his party were of an inferior stamp, and all of
them very naturally looked jaded, travel-stained, dilapidated. Neither on this, or on many similar occasions, did I hear any taunts or insults from our men;
every body seemed to have the Anglo-Saxon instinct
which forbids the striking a man when he is down.
Of course a procession of gentlemen in gray always
excited a good deal of curiosity, but the conferences
were always good-humored.
The western slopes of South Mountain were to-day
full of straggling and demoralized rebels. As we
learned subsequently, the fight had terminated in a
rout: brigades, regiments, and companies were  resolved into their individual elements.  A good Union
lady, whose handsome residence I visited a few days
afterward, gave me an amusing practical account of
this demoralization.  One day, during the week preceding the battle, while the rebel hosts were moving 
186   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
forward, she received a call from a relative, the captain of a battery, who came in to dine with her. lHe
brought several brother officers with him, and the
whole party was full of the most pleasant anticipation.
All they asked for was one more chance at the Yankees.  All they feared was that our demoralized army,
driven from the Peninsula and out of Virginia, could
not be brought up to the contest.  "We are going to
wipe them out this time finally, and then for Philadelphia and New York! The cowardly Yankees will
find out for the first time what war means when we
get into their country. As for Maryland, we will lose
the last man before we retreat."
So with high hopes rode out our rebel cavaliers to
exterminate the Union army. But, before daybreak
on Monday morning, our friend was awakened by a
crowd of half-starved, weaponless men, dressed in costumes of ragged gray, who besieged the yards, garden,
barn, and door-steps of her residence, asking for food
and full of fear. Panic lent a wonderfully exaggerated tone to every statement, so that, from their own
account, it appeared that their whole army had been
exterminated, and the Yankees were after them, horse,
foot, and dragoons. At least two hundred were on
her premises at one time that morning, and, having
dispensed freely all the provisions in her house, she
sat a while at her window, and overheard their conversation as they lay on the lawn. The remark,
"Well, I only wish I could be taken prisoner," passed
unrebuked, and several told her husband that they
were waiting for the Yankee cavalry to come up and
take them.  About nine o'clock, in rushed her relative the captain. 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM. 187
"Why, John, is that you?  I thought you were go ing to Philadelphia."
"It's no use talking about it, aunt; we have been
badly whipped, and I don't know where a single man
or a single gun of my battery can be found."
By noon the rebel cavalry were scouring the whole
neighborhood, and drove the stragglers inside their
lines at the point of the sabre. But several managed
to hide under the straw in the barn, and were not discovered. Rebel vedettes patroled the vicinity all day,
and it was not until the next morning that our own
cavalry came up, when these hiding rebels gladly surrendered to two of our men. If we could only have
been a little quicker in that pursuit!
Another little incident, coming nearer home, will
well illustrate their demoralization, and afford a good
instance of presence of mind. As our division moved
down the road this morning, one of our orderlies,
spying a comfortable-looking farm-house about a mile
distant, left the column to purchase some chickens for
the staff mess. Entering the yard, he rode round to
the front door to see, to his astonishment, seven armed
rebels sitting in the porch.  To use his own expression, he was "mightily scared," but he knew that if
he attempted to run they would shoot him off his
horse, so he pulled out his revolver, dashed valiantly
up, and ordered them to lay down their arms. All
complied save one, who swore he never would throw
down his gun for any Yankee, whereupon our hero
tried to persuade him by leveling his six-shooter at
his head, and giving him half a minute to make up
his mind.  With a bitter oath, down fell his gun also.
"Fall in!" now exclaimed the orderly.  Again there
I 
188 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
were some objections; but these also he overruled, and
the parade began, though not exactly in the mode prescribed by tactics, for in this case the commander rode
behind his battalion, and, instead of a sword, flourished
a revolver. As they marched along, they fell in with
two others of the same stripe, sitting weaponless under
a tree. Anxious for recruits, our orderly induced
them also to enlist in his company, marched his nine
rebel prisoners down to the road, and delivered them
over to our junior aidl-a very successful chickenhunt, minus the chickens.
As I sat in the inn porch, a deputation from rebeldom came up bearing a flag of truce, and creating
quite an excitement among the group of orderlies in
front. At its head rode a rebel surgeon in a gray
uniform profusely ornamented, bearing aloft a stick
surmounted by a white handkerchief, followed by four
rebel soldiers carrying a bloodstained stretcher, the
little party escorted by one of our own officers. Asking to see the ranking officer, the surgeon was brought
up to General Hooker, saluted, and requested permission to seek and bear off the body of Colonel
Strange, who met his fate, it will be remembered, in
the fight with our division.  General Hooker very
courteously referred him to General M'Clellan, whose
head-quarters were still in the rear, and I learned afterward that his request was complied with.
The different generals seemed to enjoy heartily this
meeting by the roadside, joining their respective commands as they in turn moved by. A little later in the
day Sumner's corps occupied the road, and I now saw
for the first time this old warrior, whose appearanc
and character remind one of the best days of the Ro 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM.  189
man republic. At four o'clock the road was still
crowded with troops and artillery. I presume that
more than half of the whole Army of the Potomac
had passed in review before me since morning. With
the general appearance of the troops I was more than
satisfied, and, if there was any demoralization among
them, I certainly failed to discover it.
But the thirty miles of subsistence and forage
wagons still lingered in the rear; I was becoming
weary with waiting, and my gastric apparatus began
to suggest the necessity of rations. It being doubtful whether I was to be privileged to sleep to-night, I
resolved, at all events, not to suffer the pangs of hunger also, and with a gentlemanly surgeon started on
an armed reconnoissance. Of course it was useless to
try any of the farm-houses near the road, for every
vestige of edibles had long since been swept from
their larders; we therefore struck off to the right
through a pleasant lane, promising prosperous future.
Hardly had we  left the turnpike when General
M'Clellan, followed by a brilliant cavalcade and bodyguard, proceeded rapidly toward the front.
The quiet, sleepy country-road, shaded by overhanging foliage and half overgrown with grass, had a
most soothing influence upon men tired of excitement, and glad to escape the sight of a crowd in uniform. We had ridden half a mile, perhaps, when we
saw a low-roofed cottage, with piazza overgrown with
verdure, nestling in a quiet nook half way down the
western slope of South Mountain. It was evident
that this was our place to drive.
I am free to confess that I am not a true lover of
life in the country. Pleasant indeed is it, during the 
190   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
heated term, to rest under the shadow of the mountains or on the shore of' the sounding sea; but I can
usually find more to interest and inspire me in the
crowd of earnest and frivolous, grave and gay, rough
and cultivated, who throng our city streets, than in all
the trees, and brooks, and flowers I ever saw.  Of
course, no man of taste, of poetic imagination, and all
that, would make such a confession; perhaps, even in
my own case, the fact is not that I love nature less,
but human nature more. It is very certain that on
this afternoon I could hardly repress a feeling of unmistakable envy at the lot of the happy denizens of
this mountain glen. Ah! it is evident that I was
never made to be a warrior.
We were soon riding in at the gate of the little inclosure, and found a good Union family of Germans,
with some female friends who had fled hither from
their own homes higher up the mountain. For several minutes it was useless to attempt even a hint at
dinner, for four or five stout and strong-lunged women at once poured forth upon us their stories of last
night's horrors, and all talked at once. With resignation we listened to their vivid descriptions of the
bursting of shell over their quiet homes, heard in all
its details the tragic story of the shot which came so
near striking Mrs. Van Snuff's barn, put in a word or
two of respectful sympathy when a word or two was
possible, and bided our time. Then, with gentle suggestions of abundant reward, we made our modest request, to be at once crushed under a mass of adjectives
emphasizing the utter impossibility of granting it.
Another lull gave opportunity for a more extended
proposition; the feminine element still bubbled on; 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM.  191
but I noticed that the master of the house moved out
toward the poultry-yard, followed him until the fate
of one chicken was sealed, and felt sure that our point
was gained. Having pulled some green corn for our
horses, we sat down in the front room, when the doc tor, who had been up all night attending to the wound ed, went instantly to sleep, and I soon followed his ex ample.
In due time the chickens, with potatoes, bread and
butter, a fair cup of coffee, and various entries of the
Dutch style of cookery, smoked upon the board, and
in due time had fulfilled their destiny. During the
whole meal, our kind attendants, with voices preternaturally sharpened by excitement, entertained us with
tales of wonders dire, the offspring of our late battle.
Strange indeed to these secluded homes must have
been the roar of artillery, the rattle of musketry, the
shrieking shot and shell, and the squads of half-crazed
men-the drift-wood of the receding rebel tide-who
rested a while in their porches, and then fled hurriedly
away through the darkness of that fearful night. In
one sense it was perhaps a Godsend to our German
friends, for it had afforded them interesting topics for
fireside talk during the rest of-their lives.
Fully fortified within for at least twenty-four hours,
we bade good-by to our entertainers, and were soon
back in the main road.  Not long after I met an officer, who reported to me that it would be late at night
before our division train could draw out into the road,
and it was evidently of no use for me to remain longer
on the summit. As we descended the western slope
the sunset hues were filling the west with gorgeous
beauty, and the eye drank in a landscape rich in all
I 
192   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
those quiet charms suggestive of comfort, peaceful habitations, and pleasant homes. Few districts in America are more lovely to look upon than this, for it is a
region little cursed by slavery, and beautiful with the
smiling farms of men who till their own soil with their
own honest hands.
At Boonesborough, a small country town with little
business and many pleasant residences, we learned that
our division had moved on to Keadysville, some six
miles distant. Our soldiers had monopolized the village: inns and shops overflowed with uniforms, while
the halls and churches were tenanted by the rebels
wounded in last night's battle. My effort to secure a
chamber in the hotel was unsuccessful, but the host
kindly recommended me to call upon a wealthy Union
citizen, who, he thought, would be glad to receive me.
The result was that in an hour my horse was comfortably stabled, and soon after I was shown to a handsome sleeping apartment. Last night shivering on
the battle-field of South Mountain, to-night occupying
a good bed in a peaceful home-such are some of the
contrasts in campaign experience.
Tuesday, September 16th. Though up very early this
morning, my kind hostess would not permit me to
leave without breakfast, and sent me on my way with
a glow about the heart at her sympathetic hospitality.
During the last half of the night one unending train
of wagons had been moving past the house, and I soon
found those of our division.  But our progress was
still slow, especially after we reached Keadysville,
where a strong counter-current set in of cavalry and
artillery, moving off toward the right of the future
battle-field; and here I pushed on ahead, and found, 
FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN TO ANTIETAM.  193
about 3 P.M., our division bivouacked a mile or two
beyond the village, with head-quarters under a tree.
No one could tell me much as to the position of the
enemy. Some felt sure that he had already fled across
the Potomac, others that a desperate battle was inmpending. The fields in every direction were full of
troops, and when at last the wagon-trains arrived, the
division proceeded to make itself very comfortable.
I was now ordered to retrace my steps toward
Kecadysville with a detail of four men on business connected with my department. It was slow work, our
attempt to push through the densely crowded road, the
wagons hurrying forward two abreast and occasionally
coming to a dead-lock, which brought out to its fullest
extent the profane capacity of the army teamster llaving reached our destination, I bivouacked my squad
under some trees, and found decent shelter for myself
and my horse in a house near by. Not long after I
was domesticated an aid of General Sumner's galloped
up and took the house for his head-quarters, followed
very shortly by the old hero himself, with his staff
and cavalry escort. Early hours are fashionable during a campaign, and I was shown to my room-rather warm quarters, being exactly under the roof.
I 
194   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CIHAPTER XIX.
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
EDNESDAY, September 17th. Before retiring
last night I had seen my horse safely stabled
by my host, but, as General Sumner's cavalry escort
had bivouacked all over the premises, and as I suspected that the distinction between meum and tuum
in the matter of horseflesh was somewhat neglected in
the code of cavalry morals, I took with me to sleep a
half uneasy feeling, and was awakened by it before
daybreak. Upon going to the stable I found all right;
the cavalry-men were making'coffee; and as soon as
daylight came I mustered my squad, accomplished my
errand, breakfasted in the tent of the officer whom I
had come to seek, and was soon on my way back to
the division.
By this time the incessant roar of artillery, apparently a couple of miles distant on the right, indicated
that a battle was going forward; the dusty street of
the little village was full of orderlies and staff officers,
riding hither and thither on various duties; every
house boiled over with excitement, and gathered upon
its stoop a knot of half-frantic women, whose terror it
was pitiful to behold. Of course my own thoughts
were full of the impending conflict, of whose happy
result to the good cause I could not doubt. We certainly had forced the enemy into a dangerous corner,
and I felt sure that the music of these cannon was 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
ushering in the salvation-day of the republic. Our
victory at South Mountain had not lost its inspiration,
and there was thus every reason for being hopeful and
enthusiastic.
I was soon riding into the last night's camping ground of our division, but the ashes of their camp fires were cold. Troops were, however, massed in the
fields beyond, and thither I hastened, to be again dis appointed. Presuming that they must have advanced
still farther to the front, I rode on to find other troops
drawn up in line of battle, but these also were strangers to me, and no one could give me the desired information. I was now on the battle-field of Antietam,
and near the front of our centre.
I should like to give a full description of this famous battle, but the attempt would fail for various reasons, one difficulty being that personally I know little
about it. The newspaper press, with its corps of keen
observers in every part of the field, has given its general features artistically, and as faithfully as is perhaps
possible. I may be permitted, therefore, to give only
my own limited and partial experiences and observations.
At the point where I now paused for a moment,
just about the central point of our army, and on the
east side of Antietam Creek, I saw no indications of a
hostile force in the fields and woods opposite. Our
forces were coming into position near me, but on the
other side of the creek all was still. Very few missiles
had yet come this way; but, as I rode away, I saw one
shell burst in a group of our men, wounding two or
three severely.  A house upon a commanding elevation was pointed out to me as the head-quarters of
195
I 
196  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
General M'Clellan, and thither I at once proceeded, as
the last resort for the information I sought. Here
was the immense cavalry escort waiting in the rear,
staff horses picketed by dozens around the house, while
the piazza was crowded with officers seeking to read
with their field-glasses the history of the battle at the
right. On an elevation a couple of hundred yards in
front, commanding a still better view, groups of officers, newspaper correspondents, and citizens were assembled, and I at once joined them, leaving my horse
for a moment in the valley below.
It was only the usual battle panorama, and I could
not distinguish a single battery, nor discern the movements of a single brigade, nor see a single battalion
of the men in gray. Smoke-clouds leaped in sudden
fury from ridges crowned with cannon, or lay thick
and dim upon the valleys, or rose lazily up over the
trees; all else was concealed; only the volleyed thunder was eloquent; and no man so stolid, of all who
now stood gazing down upon the field of death, but
pictured in his excited imagination a scene with some
at least of the features of the dread reality.
Only a short outlook was permitted me, for here I
had discovered that beneath that smoky canopy my
own division was engaged, having last evening been
sent from the centre to the extreme left. It was necessary to return toward Keadysville, turn to the left
over a road which crossed the Antietam by a stone
bridge, and, after a two miles' ride, I had little need
to inquire the way. It was now about nine o'clock,
and already the ebb-tide which flows from every battle-field had fairly set in, bearing out some stragglers,
but chiefly those of our wounded, whose injuries, be 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
ing slight or in the upper portion of the body, permitted them to walk slowly back toward Keadysville,
having already been bandaged in the field-hospitals.
Ambulances bringing off the more desperately wounded, or returning for fresh freights of agony; pale-faced
men looking up at me from the grassy wayside where
they had paused to rest; a captain of our old brigade
smilingly holding up both arms bandaged and bleeding, and assuring me that we were doing well on the
right-such are some of the pictures left in my memory by that morning's ride.
And still, as I hastened on, the roar of the artillery
and infantry grew more terrible, and I was soon passing a hospital sheltered in a low-lying valley on the
verge of the battle-field. Farm-houses, barns, outhouses, all were tenanted, and still the stretcher-bearers brought in from the front a constantly fresh addition. I had no time to-day to visit this hospital, but,
as I rode past the barn, a collection of amputated limbs
lying outside the door attested the hurried and wholesale character of the work going on within.  At any
other time such a sight would have shocked me, but
to-day it came in naturally as part of the scene.
For now the ghastly procession of the woundedsome tottering along unsupported, some leaning upon
their comrades, some borne upon stretchers, some carried in the arms of their friends, every step an agony
-passed me almost continuously; full five hundred
mangled and bleeding men, some of them with hardly life enough in them to reach the hospital. There
were sights that day whose sad horrors can never be
forgotten, too sad and horrible for any description
here. And it was through this bloody avenue I must
1        1'
197 
198   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
pass forward to the battle. It was no time to grow
sick and faint; for into that hell of smoke and battledin, out of which come these bleeding braves, I must
enter, come what, come may. Let me admit that it
was a terrible morning's ride.
I was now on the Hagerstown turnpike, across
which cavalry were drawn up with drawn sabres to
prevent the egress of stragglers from the battle-field.
And now in what part of that awful hurly.burly of
cloud and noise just ahead is my division?  The cavalry-men were ignorant; none of the wounded could
tell me; I must push on, and trust to fortune. As I
rode down the turnpike, I passed under a hilly crest
to its left, upon which a battery was posted, now hurling shot and shell over my head at a rebel battery opposite.  On my right I saw troops drawn up in line
of battle; on my left I soon met other troops drawn
up in a grove near the road; but still I heard nothing
of my division, except that it was somewhere in front.
And now I was passing between spots desperately
fought over already this morning, when over the
fields, or in the road just ahead, I was astonished to
see some of our troops apparently falling back, and
soon also I discovered the general.
We were now in rather too hot a place for the exchange of courtesies, but I saw at a glance that I had
come at an inauspicious moment, and a word or two
of hurried explanation told me the whole story. I
had arrived just at the period when, General Hooker
having been driven fainting with his wound from the
field, our right wing, which had driven the enemy
through these fields above us into a thick grove far
ther up the road, at least a mile, with great slaughter, 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
had been compelled to fall back by the outnumbering
force which the enemy, whose centre and right were
left unattacked during all these morning hours, was
able to concentrate against it. The bravest fighting
could not withstand such fearful odds, especially as
our old opponent, Stonewall Jackson, had sheltered
his reserves behind rocky ledges waist-high, and wonderfully adapted for defense, had deepened natural depressions into rifle-pits, had laid up long lines of fencerail breastworks, and so was all ready for a formidable
resistance.
Our old brigade retained the position in which it
was first posted in support of artillery, but the other
brigades were falling back to a new position in excellent order, and the general and staff were overseeing
the movement.  A bitter disappointment all this to
me, but how much worse to the men who had moved
through such a storm of leaden rain up this turnpike,
through yonder cornfield, close up to the rocky citadel-" slaughter-pen," as a friend designated it-where
the rebels from behind stone bulwarks shot down our
exposed ranks. But, though the anxious strain still
rested on their features, there was not even a shadow
of despair, and nowhere was there a single symptom
of panic among our officers or men.
The division was soon halted, and drawn up in line
of battle on both sides the iagerstown turnpike; but
the enemy did not follow up his temporary advantage,
and the infantry fighting at this point was over. The
artillery on both sides still filled the air with shot and
shell, but not long after this ceased also; the general
and staff dismounted, our horses were tethered on the
west of the road, and there was a little rest. It was
199
.1 
200  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
now about 10 A.M., and the right wing had been engaged since daybreak. The enemy, having overpowered our attack in this direction, was now able to give
his undivided attention to his centre and right wing,
which were to be attacked in turn later in the day.
After a brief interval under the trees, an orderly
brought orders from General Meade, now in command
of our corps since General Hooker's wound, to march
the division on the east side of the turnpike, near our
present locality, where we formed in line of battle behind several batteries, and the men were ordered to
lie down on their arms. The woods and fields in
front of this key-point of the right wing were now
voiceless and still; not a grayback could be seen; not
a battery saluted us; the scene of the late encounter
seemed quiet and deserted. Thirty cannon of various
calibre were silently looking toward the foe; grimly
behind their pieces stood the gunners, peering out
over field and wood, eager to get sight of the enemy.
At any attempt to plant a rebel battery, any demonstration of rebel infantry, any symptom of advance,
some of them took sight, and sent a shot or shell
shrieking among the trees. One of these batteries of
our division is well worth visiting; it has lost this
day thirty-eight officeers and men killed and wounded,
and twenty-eight horses; but here it is now posted,
every gun brought safely out of the fight, the ranks
of its heroic gunners now recruited by infantry volunteers. If one half be true which the staff tell me as
we stand around this battery, hundreds of rebels must
have fallen this day before the hurricane of grape and
canister poured in a critical moment right into the fac
of the enemy from these wide-mouthed Napoleon guns. 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM. 
Seated on this little summit, I listened to the deeply interesting recital of the events which occurred before I reached the field. How two of our staff appeased their hunger by a hoe-cake taken from the
haversack of a dead rebel soldier; how one general of
our division, at a doubtful moment, leaped toward a
battery, ordered in double charges of grape and canister, and personally sighted the pieces into the enemy's
teeth; how another general, not of our division, left
his brigade to advance without him; how the horses
of three of our orderlies were killed by a bursting
shell as they rode behind the general, and yet no one
was hurt seriously; how up to the last moment all
was going well, when, just as our boys were pushing
into some woods, leaving the cornfield behind them
full of rebel dead and wounded, they found themselves
confronted with fresh troops, fully fortified, who swept
them with volleys so terrible that a retreat was unavoidable-these and the thousand and one little personal incidents, only uttered into friendly ears, greatly
interested me, though of course there was in my own
mind a natural feeling of regret that I had lost all
these new experiences.
But little did any of us imagine that for us the battle of Antietam was nearly over; this seemed to be
only the first act of the tragedy, and every moment
might lift the curtain for a new scene. On our left,
toward the centre of our main line, the din of battle
had long been heard, and ever and anon one or more
of our own cannon in front spoke out its thunder.
As an attack on our position was momentarily expected, one or the other of the staff was constantly engaged in sweeping with a glass the presumed locality
I 2
201 
202   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
of the enemy. Meantime our infantry rested on the
ground in long lines-thin, broken ranks at best, giving one a pang at the heart to see how small were
some of the regiments now gathered about the torn
and bullet - riddled colors. On our right were the
Pennsylvania Reserves, and other troops were gradually posted behind us to aid in resisting the expected
attack, each brigade in turn stacking arms and then
lying down.
Thus every moment was a moment of expectation;
of anxiety as to the result of the battle in the centre,
and later in the day on our extreme left; of the suppressed excitement of men liable at any moment to be
called into battle, and yet of practical rest and idleness. I passed much of the time out among the batteries, whence we had a good view of the woods in
which the enemy might lie concealed until the moment of attack, and of the cornfield, which afforded admirable covert for infantry. At times we saw little
squads of men at the edge of the woods-rebel pickets, or persons curious like ourselves.  A horseman
on a white horse showed himself several times on a
slight elevation beyond the cornfield, and we christened him Stonewall Jackson. I found that a powerful imagination helps out a picture wonderfully, for
several times I was assured by others that large bodies of rebels could be seen en masse at the edge of the
woods, while the glass gave me a view of nothing but
trees.
During the day we were able to get up a wagon or
two with provisions, which the regimental quartermasters distributed among the men.  I was walking
down the lines, when a regimental captain thus accost 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
ed me, holding up a great piece of pork on his sword:
" Look here, captain, this is the allowance of pork for
my company, and I shall have to eat it all, for I am
the only one left." I paused to inquire about it, and
found it was even so; no commissioned or non-commissioned officer, no private, not even a drummer-boy
remained to him. We talk with sadness about the
decimated ranks of a regiment or company; here was
a company simply annihilated by sickness, wounds,
and death.
During the day some of our boys brought in from
the adjacent fields the dead bodies of some of their
comrades, and buried them in the rear of our little
elevation, placing at their heads strips of cracker-boxcovers, with the name and regiment of the deceased in
pencil. Horses were lying all about us just where
they were killed, for over this spot the battle had at
one time fiercely raged.  Hour after hour of inaction
slipped away, while the battle-field on our left was
fought over fiercely, terribly, with a stubborn desperation on both sides rarely exhibited since the world began. For the truth of this statement I may safely appeal to the statistician when the records of this day's
work are made up, and the lists of dead and wounded
are completed, or to any one who may visit with me
two days hence the field of battle and witness the fearful result.
Sometimes it seemed as if the fighting had drawn
so near to us that it must be in the next wood, and
that our turn must soon come, and then the din of
battle would move off to the left, leaving us quiet as
b    e    f    o    r    e. Of course rumor had full swing on suc h  a 
day as this; victory, defeat, large Union re-enforce
.jiYj
I,|        o 1
203
k — - 
204   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ments, the repulse of our left wing, the death of several of our prominent generals, the taking of several
thousand prisoners, all were in turn buzzed through
the ranks, and relieved somewhat the tedious waiting
of this long day. About 4 P.M., General M'Clellan,
with his staff, rode along our lines, and was greeted
with much enthusiasm by the troops. We had now
learned that our centre and left had been partially
successful, the enemy having been driven back with
much loss, though still holding firmly their new position.
One of our orderlies brought us about this time
from a neighboring farm-house a loaf of bread, with a
modicum of butter ingeniously stored in a hole cut in
the loaf, and we sat down to enjoy it, with a cup of
coffee, for the men had been permitted to light fires
and cook their rations. We began to think that the
fighting for the day was over. But about 5 P.M.,
sudden as lightning out of a clear sky swept over us
another tornado of rebel wrath, and the shot and shell
began to strike and burst over and about us in all
directions. In an instant we were in the saddle; but,
before we were fairly mounted, our thirty guns, which
had been impatiently awaiting this opportunity for
hours, swept woods and cornfield with a deluge of
shot and shell. -Never before had I known how tremendous may be the roar of mingled artillery. Thirty
guns, each discharged as fast as the men could load!
they actually shook the hill; nay, the concussion
seemed enough to shake the planet.
As the rebel projectiles were supposed to be introductory to an infantry attack, the troops in front were.
notified to be ready, while those in rear fell in, took 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
arms, advanced closer to the crest of the hill, and also
lay down, prepared for action at a moment's notice.
The Reserves still remained as before, except that each
commander was getting his men into thorough preparation; every. wagon went off at full gallop; the
right wing was all ready; and now we sat on our
horses, looking earnestly down to see what was to be
the next move. General Meade, who succeeded to the
command of our corps after General Hooker was
wounded, rode up to the crest where we were stationed, and reconnoitred the position of the enemy's
batteries as coolly as if at a review. Already decorated with a bullet-hole in his cap as a trophy of today's battle, his almost nonchalant manner, and the
quiet way in which, amid the tornado of rebel wrath,
he gave his orders to make ready for the storm, greatly impressed me. I saw the shot strike so close to our
men as to fling the dust apparently over them; for
perhaps ten minutes the enemy kept up a lively cannonade, but not a man was, to my knowledge, killed
or wounded. This artillery firing at long range is
terrible to hear, but is rarely fatal.
From some prisoners afterward captured we learned
that it had been the intention of the enemy to attack
with infantry, General Jackson's favorite time for flinging himself upon us seeming to be just before sunset.
If this was his intention, the awful fire of our batteries
must have admonished him of our thorough state of
preparation, for in a brief period his batteries ceased to
play, and our own thirty guns were silent also.
During a visit to one of our hospitals, I heard from
the lips of a German, who was severely wounded in
to-day's battle, a thrilling account of his personal cx
205
:1, I
;I 
206   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
periences during this ten minutes' cannonading. He
was lying under a tree, desperately wounded and unable to stir, with several other Union soldiers and a
number of rebels, all in the same condition, in the
woods, where some of the hardest fighting had been,
and through which now crashed our shot and shell.
The ground had been taken from the enemy and occupied by our troops early in the day, but was retaken
by the rebels, so that wounded men in blue and gray
lay indiscriminately together.  He suffered little pain,
but was tortured with thirst, relieved from time to
time by some generous Southerner, who, in passing,
shared with him the contents of his canteen.  When,
however, the shot and shell from our own batteries, in
this five o'clock duel, began to shriek among the trees,
killing some of our own wounded men, he described his
sensations as truly horrible. Unable to move, planted
by his wound just there, with these death-messengers
crashing, bursting, striking sometimes within ten feet
of him, what language could paint a scene so terrible!
All that night, all the next day, and the next night
also, he remained untended, onlylto be taken up at last
when the enemy had retired and our own troops occupied the field.  When I talked with him he was lying
under a shelter-tent, outside a garden, every part of
which was filled with the shelter-tent bedrooms of
wounded rebels, waiting until his wound was sufficiently healed to enable him to be moved into the house.
He told me that the surgeon had promised to, save his
leg, and added, in his broken way, a fervent hope that
he might have one shot more at the enemy.
With this cannonading ended the fighting of the
right wing for the day. The men were now permit 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
ted to bring in bundles of straw from the neighboring
farms, with which they made themselves beds, and lay
down in line of battle; the tired gunners made themselves similarly comfortable alongside their guns;
pickets stood, with eye and ear open, close to the rebel
lines, ready to give instant warning should a night-attack be attempted; and hardly had the darkness descended on hill and wood before we had also lain down
on beds of cornshooks and straw, pulled our blankets
over us, and all was still. No one removed even his
sword; our horses stood saddled and ready for instant
use at the fence near by; all felt the importance of
getting as much rest as possible while rest was permitted us.
There was no tree over our heads to shut out the
stars, and as I lay looking up at these orbs moving so
calmly on their appointed way, I felt, as never so
strongly before, how utterly absurd in the face of high
Heaven is this whole game of war, relieved only from
contempt and ridicule by its tragic accompaniments,
and by the sublime illustrations of man's nobler qualities incidentally called forth in its service. Sent to
occupy this little planet, one among ten thousand
worlds revolving through infinite space, how worse
than foolish these mighty efforts to make our tenancy
unhappy or to drive each other out of it. Within a
space of four square miles lay two hundred thousand
men, some stiff and stark, looking with visionless eyes
up into the pitying heavens; some tossing on the beds
of the hospital, or lying maimed and bleeding under
the trees; some hugging in their sleep the deadly
weapon with which, to-morrow, they may renew the
work of death.
207 
208   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
Bound up with the lives and safety of these two
hundred thousand is the life-destiny of millions; and
even now, as through North and South the awful roar
of this day's battle, borne by the electric wires, already
echoes and re-echoes through city, and village, and
hamlet, the streets pale with excitement, and all night
long the fearful anxiety which kills shall keep watch
and ward over many a sleepless dwelling. My God!
why could not some pitying angel-messenger from
Thee stand to-night upon one of these cannon-planted
hills, and, with a voice which should almost awake the
dead, send back home these insane children of the
South lifting parricidal hands against their country?
Through what other scenes of agony-through what
other lanes of death, must this poor, childish human
nature pass, before it learns by experience the utter
brutal folly of war?
A man may see the grotesque absurdity of war, and
yet be unable to devise a remedy which shall practically apply, taking things just as they are.. As long
as principle is weak and personal ambition strong; as
long as man, instead of consulting and following heavenly oracles, forces into the low arena of the battlefield questions which were decided for him before his
creation at the very throne of God, so long, I suppose,
must his ambition and folly be met on their own
ground, so long must he be resisted in his own arena.
Of course no moral question can be decided in this
brutal fashion. The right is by no means sure to triumph; the wrong is very often successful; the history of the world is one long record of the battle-triumps of injustice over justice, of vice over virtue, of_
wrong over right. " God is always on the side of the
I 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.
strongest battalions," said Napoleon, thus approximating the truth in a proposition which required to be
complemented by Oliver Cromwell's order, "Trust in
God, and keep your powder dry." For religious enthusiasm as well as gunpowder helped the Roundheads, and a little more religious enthusiasm would
help us now.
Animal strength, animal courage, and skill in applying and using them, must thus be the main elements which enter into and decide a wager of battle.
When we have conquered in the present struggle we
shall not have decided that slavery is wrong in its
claim to rule or to ruin, to destroy the republic because it can not bind the free North neck and heels
at its chariot wheels, for this claim was decided against
the South in the very constitution of humanity; all
we can hope to do in this regard is simply to open
Southern eyes so that they may see. The war will
mainly decide as to the animal qualities of the two
sections, and in this respect we must admit that the
South had at first some elements of superiority, for it
is the animal which their system has nourished, at the
expense of the moral and intellectual. John Locke,
who advocated slavery in the Carolinas, confesses that
"the perfect condition of slavery is the state of war
continued between a lawful conqueror and a captive;"
and it must be acknowledged that this evil genius of
the South, while it has defrauded the people of the
highest arts and enjoyments of peace, has educated
them wondrously well in the unnatural arts of violence needed in war. The land of the school-house,
the printing - press, and the manufactory must pass
through a necessary season of initiation before it can
209 
210   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
equal in these acts of violence the land of the bowieknife, the duel, and the slave plantation.
But, look at it as I would, I could see no way in
which the North could have avoided this war, and no
doubts disturbed me as to her duty to fight it out to
the end. For her it was indeed no ordinary warfare,
but a crusade for freedom; the religious and patriotic
element, the elements of self-denial, sacrifice, philanthropy, had come in to elevate and sanctify what is in
itself low and mean. I was satisfied, therefore, that,
despite my contempt for war, I was in the right place
on this Antietam battle-field; and while other thoughts
and visions ran riot through my brain, sleep at length
came, and another long day was over. 
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XX.
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.         \~ 
THURSDAY, September 18th. Long before 8y~
break, the little elevation whereon we had slept
was alive with men making their coffee and eating
their simple breakfasts, so that they might be ready
for the day's fighting. The feeling seemed to possess
every heart that this day was to be crowned with victory; the whole tone of conversation as we drank our
coffee on the grass was hopeful, nay, almost exultant;
the hour for crushing the rebellion seemed to have
struck; the opportunity had come to drive the rebels
into the Potomac, or capture their entire army. The
natural dread of battle seemed to be lost in the hopeful feeling that the result of this day's dangers might
be the ending of the war, and our return to our homes
and families.  The prize to be gained, for the country
and for ourselves, was worthy of any venture, and I
saw no one who did not seem anxious to make the
trial. As well here as elsewhere, as well now as at
the end of another campaign, might we enter the lists
wherein alone the South was willing to try the momentous issue; and it certainly seemed that after yesterday's partial success we held the enemy at disadvantage.
But sunrise came, hour after hour slipped by, with
no orders to advance, no attack by the rebels, and
gradually a bitter feeling of disappointment began to
211 
212   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
trouble us, while the conviction forced itself upon our
minds that the enemy was to be permitted to escape.
I remember very little of this day save its sadness;
our batteries still remained in position, looking down
toward the enemy; our infantry rested on their arms
as on yesterday, but silence brooded all day over the
locality held by the foe. Toward evening a paulin
was stretched over an upright for a bedchamber; our
servants had brought up sufficient provisions, and
about dusk the orders came to be ready for action at
sunrise to-morrow. On the whole, matters began to
look a little more cheerful; there was still hope that
the rebels had not escaped; the growlers ceased their
growling; the victory was only postponed for one
day, not indefinitely. A messenger was sent off to
Hiagerstown with letters, and with the sun we also
went to rest.
Friday, Sept. 19th. Up again at 3 A.M., we drank
our coffee, saw that the division had a good breakfast,
and made all ready for battle. Only to be again disappointed, for the expected order did not come. Finally, at 8 A.M., we learned that the rebels had slipped
through our fingers and retreated across the Potomac.
The river, lately in their rear, and forming one side
of the angle into which we had driven them, was now
their best defense against us. The battles of South
Mountain and Antietam were robbed of any decisive
significance. The campaign must now be transferred
to Virginia; the long, weary days of marching and
nights of shelterless discomfort were all to be again
endured;  and there seemed little hope that, after
again overtaking the enemy, there would be any morn
decisive result. It is not for me to attempt any criti 
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.
cism of military measures or military men, but only to
delineate truly the bitter feelings of disappointment
shared by so many in our army that day. My heart
almost sunk within me at the dreary prospect before
us; this was to me blue Friday indeed.
An orderly was now sent to head-quarters with letters for home, written in pencil. I always carried in
my saddle-bags several envelopes properly directed
and stamped, and was thus able to send off by every
opportunity pencil dispatches written in the saddle or
on my knee. A sutler bound for the nearest railway
station, an officer going to the rear, a newspaper correspondent or messenger, will always wait for you to
scrawl a couple of lines, and this couple of lines may
save mother, wife, or lover many an hour of anxious
unrest.
Shortly after sending off our letters orders came to
advance across the battle-field toward the river, and
after the division was drawn out into the road I rode
back a couple of miles to order up the wagon-train.
Through torn-up cornfields, robbed of their tasseled
grain by hungry horses and hungry men, past farmhouses, barns, and outhouses crowded with the wounded, I came at length to a quiet little grove near the
roadside, and here I found the train. How charmingly to my somewhat jaded senses appeared the scene
which now presented itself! At a camp-fire sat the
teamsters, cooking their noontide meal of mutton, potatoes, and coffee; the horses stood, half asleep, tethered to the wagons. It was a sudden and quick transition from the battle-field, with its constant strain of
excitement, to a picnic scene in peaceful woods. Who
would not be an army teamster?
213 
214 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
My faithful sergeant soon had my mare feasting
upon unaccustomed oats, and brought up to the tree
beneath which I was reclining a supply of meat and
vegetables, which he spread out on  the grass before
me without even saying "By your leave."  My reply was equally silent, but equally satisfactory. The
al fresco meal seemed positively luxurious; it medicined mind as well as body. I sat down sad and
moody, but what mind so dark as wholly to resist the
influence of mutton, potatoes, and raw tomatoes, after
having feasted so long on fried pork and hard bread?
When I arose I saw a little more hope ahead, but not
this day nor the next could I wholly lift off the shadow.
Meanwhile the wagon-train was made ready, and,
having seen it fairly started, I rode forward to the
front. My route carried me over the late battle-field,
and I spent much of the afternoon, part of the time in
company with a friend, in visiting some of the most
severely-contested points, to be awe-struck, sickened,
almost benumbed by its sights of horror.  Within
this space of more than a mile square, this spot, once
beautiful with handsome residences and well cultivated farms, isolated, hedged in with verdure, sacred to
quiet, calm, content, the hottest fury of man's hottest
wrath had expended itself, burning residences and
well-filled barns, plowing fields of ripened grain with
artillery, scattering every where through cornfield,
wood, and valley the most awful illustrations of war.
Not a building about us which was not deserted by
its occupants, and rent and torn by shot and shell;
not a field which had not witnessed the fierce and
bloody encounter of armed and desperate men. 
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.
Let us first turn off to the left of the itagerstown
turnpike; but we must ride very slowly and carefully,
for lying all through this cornfield are the victims of
the hardest contest of our division. Can it be that
these are the bodies of our late antagonists? Their
faces are so absolutely black that I said to myself at
first, this must have been a negro regiment.  Their
eyes are protruding from the sockets; their heads,
hands, and limbs are swollen to twice their natural
size.  Ah! there is little left to awaken our sympathy, for all those vestiges of our common humanity which touch the sympathetic chord are now quite
blotted out. These defaced and broken caskets, emptied of all that made them manlike, human, are repulsive merely. Naught remains but to lay them
away quietly, where what is now repulsive shall be
resolved into its original elements, shall be for a time
"Brother to the insensate clod
Which the rude swain turns with his share,
And treads upon,"
and shall reappear in new forms of life hereafter.
Passing through this cornfield, with the dead lying
all through its aisles, out into an uncultivated field beyond, I saw bodies, attired mainly in rebel gray, lying
in ranks so regular, that Death the Reaper must have
mowed them down in swaths. Our burying-parties
were already busily engaged, and had put away to rest
many of our own men; still, here as every where, I saw
them scattered over the fields. The ground was strewn
with muskets, knapsacks, cartridge-boxes, and articles
of clothing, with the carcasses -of horses, and with thousands of shot and shell. And so it was on the other
side of the turnpike, nay, in the turnpike itself; ride
215
16 
216  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
where we may, through cornfield, wood, or ravine,
and our ride will be among the dead until the heart
grows sick and faint with horror. Here, close to the
road, were the haystacks near which our general and
staff paused for a while when the division was farthest
advanced, and here, at the corner of the barn, lay one
of our men, killed by a shell, which had well-nigh
proved fatal to them also.
Just in front of these haystacks was the only pleasing picture on this battle-field-a fine horse struck
with death at the instant when, cut down by his wound,
he was attempting to rise from the ground. His head
was half lifted, his neck proudly arched, every muscle
seemed replete with animal life. The wound which
killed him was wholly concealed from view, so that I
had to ride closely up before I could believe him dead.
Hundreds of his kind lay upon the field, but all were
repulsive save himself, and he was the admired of every passer-by. Two weeks afterward I found myself
pausing to gaze upon him, and always with the wish
that some sculptor would immortalize in stone this
magnificent animal in the exact pose of his death-hour.
One would like to see something from a battle-field not
wholly terrible.
Over this grave-yard of the unburied dead we reached a wood, every tree pierced with shot or cut with
bullets, and came to the little brick church on the turnpike. This must have been a focal point in the battle, for a hundred round shot have pierced its walls,
while bullets by thousands have scarred and battered
it. A little crowd of soldiers were standing about
it, and within, a few severely wounded rebels were
stretched on the benches, one of whom was raving in
I 
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.
his agony. Surgical aid and proper attendance had
already been furnished, and we did notjoin the throng
of curious visitors within. Out in the grove behind
the little church the dead had already been collected
in groups ready for burial, some of them wearing our
own uniform, but the large majority dressed in gray.
No matter in what direction we turned, it was all the
same shocking picture, awakening awe rather than
pity, benumbing the senses rather than touching the
heart, glazing the eye with horror rather than filling
it with tears.
I had, however, seen many a poor fellow during my
ride, something in whose position or appearance had
caused me to pause, and here, lying side by side with
three others, I saw a young rebel officer, his face less
discolored than the rest, whose features and expression
called forth my earnest sympathy, not so much for
him as for those who in his Southern home shall see
him no more forever. No one knew his name among
the burying-party, and before night he was laid in a
trench with the rest, with no head-stone to mark his
resting-place, one of the three thousand rebel dead who
fill nameless graves upon this battle-field. So ends
the brief madness which sent him hither to fight
against a government he knew only by its blessingsagainst his Northern brothers, who never desired to
encroach upon a single right or institution of hiswho were willing that he should hug to his breast forever the Nessus shirt of slavery, asking only that he
did not insist upon forcing its poison-folds over their
shoulders also. So disappears the beloved of some
sad hearts, another victim of that implacable Nemesis
-who thus avenges upon the white man the wrongs of
K
K
217 
218   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the black, and smiles with horrid satisfaction as this
fearful game of war goes on.
Very slowly, as men move through the burial-places
of the dead, we rode through these woods back of the
church, and reached the rocky citadel, behind which
crouched the enemy to receive our charging battalions, sweeping their ranks with destruction, and compelling their retreat. I was astonished to see how cunningly Nature had laid up this long series of rocky
ledges breast-high for the protection of the rebel lines.
In front of this breastwork we found a majority of the
dead dressed in blue. At this point commenced also
the long barricade of fence-rails, piled so closely to
protect the rebel lines, and stretching off toward the
north. Here is one more evidence of the use to which
the rebel generals put every spare moment of time,
and of their admirable choice of position.
One more scene in this battle-picture must be seen,
and with a visit to this our ride may end. It is a
narrow country lane, hollowed out somewhat between
the fields, partially shaded, and now literally crowded
with rebel corpses. Here they stood in line of battle,
and here, in the length of five hundred feet, I counted
more than two hundred of their dead. In every attitude conceivable-some piled in groups of five or six;
some grasping their muskets as if in the act of discharging them; some, evidently officers, killed while
encouraging their men; some lying in the position of
calm repose, all black and swollen, and ghastly with
wounds, this battalion of the dead filled the lane with
horror. As we rode beside it-we could not ride in
it-I saw the field all about me black with corpses,
and they told me that the cornfield beyond was equal 
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.
ly crowded. It was a place to see once, to glance at,
and then to ride hurriedly away, for, strong-hearted
as was my then mood, I had gazed upon as much hor ror as I was able to bear.
As we rode back, I noticed close by the lane several
trenches already covered in, one with a strip of wood
at its head marked with this inscription: "Colonel
Garland and eighty dead rebels." Details of our soldiers from the various regiments were collecting their
comrades, bringing in the bodies on fence-rails, identifying them, and laying each in his own separate
grave, with a head-piece inscribed with his name and
regiment. Of course I can not personally speak with
positiveness as to the comparative numbers of the dead
on each side, but from my own observation, and the
opinions of old experienced officers, our late foes seemed to outnumber our own dead in the proportion of
four to one. Two days of laborious sepulture will be
necessary before they are hidden away in the bosom
of our cherishing mother; during two days more of
sunlight and darkness, of hot noontide and chilly midnight, must some of these poor mangled forms lie here
untouched, untended, to be hurried by stranger hands
at last into a common and nameless grave. Thank
God that to the former occupants of these defaced
bodies, now dwellers in far other mansions, the fate
of these their former habitations is no'longer of interest.
Not for these poor shipwrecked forms, then, need
we reserve our pity, but for the broken circles of which
every man among these unburied thousands formed a
part-for the homes throughout the South and the
North made wretched this day with the first hints of
219
I 
220  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
their new sorrow-for the widow, the orphan, the lover!  Oh war!  war! war!
Out of this sad presence silently we rode toward the
setting sun, to find our head-quarter tents pitched on
the edge of the battle-field, and to be soon seeking in
sleep forgetfulness of war and all its horrors.
Our next day was a quiet one. At our mess-table
in the morning it was generally thought that we might
move before night, and every moment was therefore
occupied in bringing up arrears of staff business. Late
in the afternoon, however, I rode out to visit a portion
of the battle-field I had not yet seen, once more to
have a partial return of yesterday's impressions. The
van of that immense army of visitors, which for several weeks came pouring in to visit Antietam, had already arrived, and many citizens were now picking up
relics of the battle, and exploring every part of the
field. - Hither came the father or the brother from
New England searching for his dead; here, also, the
distracted wife sought out the grave of her heroic husband. The Hagerstown turnpike for weeks saw every afternoon almost one continuous funeral procession, bearing away to the North the bruised bodies of
the North's bravest sons. More than a thousand, perhaps, were thus carried home to sleep among their
kindred, to repose beneath commemorative stones, to
which all of their name and family shall point hereafter with natural and patriotic pride.
At first it had seemed to me better to permit our
brave boys to rest undisturbed under the bullet-scarred trees, in the little glens, or out in the fields, where
they died for the good cause, and where they had beef
laid to rest by their comrades; but when I saw the
0 
THE ANTIETAM BATTLE-FIELD.
gratification with which their graves were discovered
by relatives who had come hundreds of miles to claim
their own, and the affectionate tenderness, not un mixed with pride, with which they lifted the beloved
forms, shrouded only in uniforms of blue, into their
coffins, and the evident relief with which they com menced their journey home, I had reason to change
my mind.
Stretching in front of the fields adjoining our camp ing-ground was one of the long fence-rail barricades
of the enemy, and behind it a continuous pile of straw
indicated their sleeping-spot at night. They had left
behind them some fifteen thousand muskets, and de tails of men were engaged in collecting them. The
burial-parties were still busily engaged; it seemed, indeed, that their sad work was hardly half accomplished.  As we rode on, we met a friend guiding a couple
of ambulances; as he was not a surgeon, we inquired
his destination, when he told us that during his afternoon ride he had discovered, in a barn on the edge of
the battle-field, some twenty rebels so desperately
wounded that they had been unable to help themselves, and had therefore remained untended and
without food ever since the battle. He was now going with the ambulances to bring the poor fellows into
one of our hospitals.
Our visit this evening was to the ruins of a once
handsome residence, burned by the rebels, its owner
being suspected of too strong an attachment to the old
flag. Near this spot was some of the hardest fighting
of the battle, and around the ruins clustered thick the 
newly-made graves.
221 
222   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XXI.
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
SUNDAY, September 21st. We  were now enjoying
the finest marching weather of the year, and that
we were to advance immediately was taken for granted.  Whither? when? how? ruled the hour.  The
sound of distant cannonading this morning also gave
rise to some conjecture, but this music had become too
common to awaken much curiosity. It proved to be
an artillery duel across the Potomac. I remained in
my tent all day, busily engaged in writing, and went
very early to bed.  At 11 P.M. I was awakened by
the adjutant general, who put his head in to say that
we were ordered to move to Harper's Ferry on the
morrow. As I was all ready in my department, I
thanked him for his good news, and so off again to
sleep.
But we didn't move the next day, nor the next
week; indeed, the next month found us encamped on
the battle-field, or in its immediate vicinity, helping to
guard the Potomac, lest the enemy should get across
again and try another battle. Did I not rightly say in
the beginning that "waiting" is one of the elements
of war? But it was not for subordinates, unacquainted with all the reasons for this delay, to trouble themselves on this point, and so we made the best of it,
gradually settling down to bear with cheerfulphilosophy the monotony of tent-life. The accessions to our 
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
staff consequent upon the enlarged command of our
general as chief of a division consisted of an inspect or general, whose duty it was to inspect the regiments
and brigades; a chief of artillery, who had supervisory
charge of our four batteries of flying artillery; a chief
of ordnance, and an additional aid, with an increased
number of mounted orderlies. Our head-quarters had
thus become in itself quite a village, located nearly at
the extreme southwestern corner of the battle-field.
A few hundred feet in front was the head-quarter
camp of General Meade, now in command of the
corps, and our division was encamped by brigades
through the woods directly west of us. All day long
the music of their axes indicated that they were putting up their huts and making themselves comfortable. The weather was delightful; an abundance of
food was supplied to them; the sutler was always
ready to eke out the government ration with supplementary trash, and ere'long the country farmers in the
vicinity brought in fruit, home-made cakes, pies, and
other edibles, all of which found a ready market.
Of reading matter there was, for the most part, great
lack, the men paying eagerly ten cents for the New
York Herald, almost the only New York journal
which, for some reason, reached us. Now, if there be
any thing which the soldier needs in camp or bivouac,
it is something to read. A season of terrible excitement, great fatigue and privation, and constant strain
upon his nerves and feelings, is followed by a season
of almost entire cairnlm and monotony. Once a week,
perhaps, he is on guard taking his turn as sentinel_
with the rest; more or less of drill consumes a portion
of the day; a dress parade occupies a short half hour
223 
224   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
at sunset; for the rest, his time is chiefly his own. A
game of cards is well enough in its way as an occasional pastime; but, if this be the only resort, it is apt
to degenerate into gambling, out of which grow quarrels and the acquisition of bad habits not easily overcome. I have very seldom seen our troops playing
base ball or indulging in any athletic sports; hidden
away in the woods, with no companions of that sex
without whose influence man becomes rough and brutal, they are exposed to the enervating influence of
many idle hours.
If you wish to demoralize a man, to dilute his manliness, corrode his patriotism, steal away his cheerfulness, destroy his enthusiasm, and impair his health,
pen him up in an isolated camp with little to do, no
books to read, no resource against idleness; if you
wish to demoralize an army, march it off from a severely-contested battle-field into the woods, and condemn it to a month or two of listless do-nothingism.
At such a time the men need, as never so much before, books of a cheerful and moderately-exciting character, strong, bracing stories like those of Charles
Kingsley, quiet pictures of home life like that fascinating sketch of" John Halifax, Gentleman," military
tales like those of Lever, the wonderful characterpieces of Charles Dickens, and the choice productions
of our American authors. In these later days the
novel has arisen to its true position; it has become, in
our own country and in England, almost the rival of
the pulpit as the medium of patriotic impulse, elevated
sentiment, moral and religious culture; and thus the
good novelist becomes to the soldier not only his physician to animate and invigorate him, but his preacher
to elevate and inspire him. 
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
I sincerely wish that some good citizen would send
to our army through the Sanitary Commission a sup  ply of mental food for the men in the shape of a thou sand or two copies of each of our leading monthlies the Atlantic, Continental, and Hlarper's. Every copy
would be physic and nourishment to body and mind;
the men would feel better in camp, would fight better
on the battle-field. I speak from my personal expe rience; for, with all my privileges as a staff officer, I
found it difficult to keep a book on hand for an occa sional leisure hour. Now and then a book-peddler
came along; but even a famished brain can not find
food in "The Torn Pocket-handkerchief-a Tale of
Love and Murder," which, with other books of the
yellow-covered family, composed his stock. The sol dier will get neither mental nourishment, incitement
to duty, nor patriotic impulse out of such shallow and
frothy cisterns. Were it in the power of the Sanitary
Commission to distribute after every battle some good
wholesome books to the uninjured and the healthy,
as they supply medicines, clothing, and nourishment
to the wounded and the sick, they would do much toward sustaining in our army a good morale.
Every day now witnessed about our head-quarters
a levee of officers from the different brigades, and there
was always straying in, to take a seat at our mess-table
or sit around the evening camp-fire, some good fellow
with a fresh atmosphere of thought and experience, to
keep the social currents ever in motion, and prevent
any mental stagnation. This evening camp-fire, built
every night in front of the general's tent, had become
our usual place of assemblage after supper, and here
any man who could talk was especially welcome; then
K2
225 
226   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
were our old stories brought out once more, refurbished
and newly decorated, as fair barter for his novelties;
the old battle-scenes were re-enacted; fresh bits of humor sparkled around the circle, struck out, like fire
from flint, by the concussion of wit and fancy. Our
general, from his extensive repertoire of Mexican and
Florida experiences, his personal acquaintance at West
Point and elsewhere with most of the leaders in the
rebel army, and his budget of entertaining anecdote,
led the camp-fire congress, delighting us constantly
with something fresh and new. There came in also
upon us about this time a new division quarter-master,
truly a fellow of infinite wit and humor, as well as an
energetic and able officer. Our mess had now been
necessarily divided, the lieutenants setting up housekeeping for themselves; and when our new friend
and the general entered the lists of humor, either at
the mess-table or about the camp-fire, great was our
enjoyment.
One of his stories illustrates so well the manners and
customs of a large class who follow up the army, that
it will bear repeating, though there's a great difference
between a written tale and the same tale told by a man
who can twist his face into a knot, talk Dutch or English alternately, and fairly personify its several characters.
"While I was post quarter-master at Aquia Creek,
the armies of Generals M'Clellan and Burnside were
both debarked, and you can readily imagine that all
sorts of queer customers occasionally found their way
on shore. One very hot day I was busy in my office,
when a not very prepossessing head was thrust into
the open window, and its owner, in breathless haste,
inquired, 
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
"'Ish dis de quarter-mashter's offish?'  Upon being
answered in the affirmative, he continued,
"'Well, Mr. Quarter-mashter, I've just got mine
schooner in de river, mit sutler's goods on board, and
I wants one place vrot I can sell dese tings to de sol diers. You give me one place, hey?'
"' It is against my orders, sir, to give permits to any
body to put up tents or houses for the sale of goods of
any kind.'
"'Well, Mr. Captain, I would not take much room
for dese little tings, and den I can make up some
monish vot I lose on de Chickahominy.'
"Finding the fellow bound to worry the matter
through, and being up to my eyes in work, I told him
to call again in the afternoon, when I should be more
at leisure.
"'Oh yes, captain, I vill come den.  Now, captain
(with a polite leer), you trinks wine, hey?'
"' Yes, sir, I drink wine.'
"'Very goot; den I sends you one case of the finest wine vot comes into dis creek. You will smack
your lips, captain, ven you trinks dis wine, hey?-oh,
dis is good. Vell, I sees you dis afternoon.'
"Away went Mr. Sutler; but hardly had time enough
elapsed for a journey to his schooner before I was again
reminded of him by the appearance of one of his men,
bearing on his shoulders a basket of Champagne, and
lustily inquiring for'de quarter-mashter.' On a card
attached to the basket was the following address:
"' To Captain Vesh, Qr. Maister.
Fon Hienri Weisenheimer & Co., Sutlers.'
"The wine was duly stowed away in the locker,
227
O* 
228   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
and almost forgotten in the press of business, when,
late in the afternoon, that same head, undergoing now
the process of drying and polishing with a red bandana, was again thrust in at my door. Our friend
was now the quintessence of politeness.
"' Vell, captain, I come down to look at dat little
place vot ve speak about dis morning.'
"'What place, sir?' (sternly.)
"' Vy, dem place vat you would give me to put up
one little tent ven I sell my goods.'
"' You must be mistaken, sir. I told you distinctly
that we granted no such privileges, and being busy,
and finding you would not take no for an answer, I
told you to call again.'
"'Vell, now, captain, look at dis!  Dis morning I
send you von basket Champagne, cost me sixteen dollar mit de wholesale. Now I lose all dem too. I
don't like dese tings, captain.'
"'Yes, I understand you perfectly. You thought
to buy me with Champagne. I'll keep the bribery to
remember you by; the corruption you anticipated
don't follow. Now, sir, I give you two hours to get
your vessel under weigh and out of this creek. If
you are caught again on shore, you will be placed under arrest.'
"And  away went  Mr. Weisenheimer, probably
cured for life of any desire to bribe a quarter-master."
Another pleasant fellow, the correspondent of a
New York journal, with a lively budget of news and
a good assortment of stories, frequently joined our
circle around the blazing logs of hickory. By-theway, the army correspondent is decidedly an institution. When we belonged to a brigade, these gentle 
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
men did not favor us with many visits; but, now that
our general commanded a division, we saw much
more of them, and were glad of the opportunity.
Thoroughly posted as to the latest news at home and
at army head-quarters, in familiar relations with general and staff officers of the higher grades, the experienced correspondent can scent out an intended move
with almost unerring instinct.  In brief, he knows all
that has happened or is to happen, and sometimes a
good deal more.
A dozen or more of the journals of the large cities
have their regular army correspondents, and three of
them maintain a considerable staff, the chief usually
being at head-quarters of the army, while his subordinates accompany the several corps. Such is the rivalry in this department, that they are instructed to
spare no expense and to make any exertion, however
desperate, to collect and forward the news in advance
of each other. Thus the admirable report of the battle of Antietam, which appeared in the New York
Tribune, and was copied into every New York paper
and some fourteen hundred other journals, was written, I understand, mainly in the cars. The Tribune
had in various parts of that field several correspondents. At nightfall they rode in with their various
reports to their chief, who had been disporting himself in the front of the fight, acting for a while, indeed, as aid to General Hooker. With these reports
and his own notes he was off at once on a fresh horse
for a night-ride of some thirty miles to the nearest
railway station. The cars once reached, he rode and
wrote steadily on, and finished his letter in the Tri
bune office while the first portion of it was being set
229 
230 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
up by the compositors. I understand that this same
enterprise has since been exhibited by one or more of
the other New York Journals.
The newspaper correspondent, usually quick in not ing the signs of the times, intelligent, and personally
agreeable, is thus a welcome visitor at head-quarters.
Occasionally, however, a black sheep creeps into the
whitest flock, and even an army correspondent is not
always immaculate. A young man, announcing him self as connected in this capacity with a certain jour nal, received so characteristic a dismissal from the
staff mess of a brigade camped near us that I may be
excused for narrating it. He was evidently of the
genus sponge; thrust himself upon the mess without
invitation, contributed nothing pecuniarily or socially
to the common stock. It was a most hospitable mess,
at whose table I have enjoyed several of the best dinners I ever ate in camp; and yet so insufferable became the intrusion that the caterer was requested to
dismiss him. He commenced blandly, but with voice
rising from piano to forte by rapid transition.
"My dear sir, it gives us all a great deal of pain
that we have been compelled to set before you such
poor fare, that we can offer you so few delicacies; indeed, it harrows up the feelings of the mess so much
that they don't enjoy their meals. It would be very
gratifying if we could entertain you as we should like
to, but we can not, and-confound it, sir, you must leave,
and there's an end of it.!"
This transition from the bland to the blunt, from
the lively to severe, must have slightly astonished the
listener, who probably felt a little as if he had been
struck by lightning, and incontinently disappeared.
But this exception only proves the rule. 
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
The weather during these days of waiting was so
delightful that I passed no day without an hour or
two in the saddle, wandering through the pleasant
forest paths in the vicinity, among the finely-cultivated farms filling all this fertile region, usually calling
in at one or mnore of our hospitals on the way. Sometimes I gave my horse a drink in the Potomac near
the ruins of the bridge leading to Shephardstown.
The rebel pickets could be seen lying or sitting on
the opposite bank, and sometimes the thought occurred to me that the staff-trappings of my horse might
tempt a bullet; but, by tacit consent, the pickets on
both sides had ceased firing, and I never heard that
this tacit consent was violated.  Quiet and still slept
the fields, a "solitary horseman" occasionally moving
slowly along, engaged like myself in a peaceful reconnoissance.
One morning, however, I found the little village of
Shephardstown opposite, and the river bank below it,
quite in a state of excitement. A general and his
staff had taken position near a church, decorated, as
were many other buildings, with the red hospital flag,
and full of rebel wounded, while parties of cavalry
were sitting motionless as their horses at various
points along the river bank, and the road in their rear
was quite alive with mounted men. On the bluff on
which I was standing an artillery battery watched,
open-mouthed, these suspicious proceedings, while our
infantry pickets lining the river bank below kept their
eyes in the same direction. On inquiry, I learned that
yesterday one or two of our cavalry regiments had
crossed the river, stung the rebels a little, and brought
over a few of them as trophies; and the rebel hive
231 
232   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
was evidently anticipating a similar incursion to day.
A walk over the battle-field always developed new
features of interest. All that was horrible or repul sive had now disappeared, but other reminders of the
battle were not wanting. Less than a quarter of a
mile from my tent stood a thick grove of oak, maple,
and hickory, every tree pierced with bullets and per forated with shot, or mangled and torn by shell. Here
were great trees decapitated and reft of their head dress of foliage, others with their limbs amputated
close to the parent trunk, or with splinters torn from
their sides. Through one hickory-tree two solid shot
had passed, one about six feet above the other.
As I wandered sometimes through these groves of
hickory and chestnut, the old days were vividly recalled when I was a schoolboy in this same State of
Virginia, and went out nutting with my schoolmates,
one now a rebel major general, another killed one day
in the Sunday streets of Washington, most of the rest
probably in the rebel army. I remembered as if but
yesterday with what intense interest we watched for
the time when the bursting bur announced that the
nut was ready for gathering, and with what eager industry we devoted every leisure hour to collecting and
storing our treasures in the dormitories.
I had not been among the hickory-trees since those
schoolboy days, and determined to have, as soon as
practicable, a nutting all to myself, in mnemoriam. Finally, I pushed off alone, one lovely afternoon, into a
hickory grove, determined to be a boy again. The
trees hung thick with fruit, the hour was propitious,
but the excursion was a failure. Every thing was 
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
provided; but the schoolboy, exulting in his escape
from weary tasks, his veins full of fire, his pulse at fe ver heat, to whom nuts were worth more than are dol lars now, was not there. The wild, exuberant joy of
the schoolboy time, which filled the woods with laugh ter and shouts of excitement-the enthusiastic rivalry
with which we climbed the trees and risked our necks
on the bending limbs, had long since departed; I
would hardly have struggled up this tree to-day were
its fruit golden. A few nuts flung down by the wind
were gathered, still fewer were cracked, and so ended
my nutting. Ah! this was not the first time that I
had endeavored in vain to bring back the delirium of
my boyhood by revisiting old scenes or renewing old
associations; and yet our scholboy days, for real happiness, bear no comparison with those of our later
years. The former may have more sparkle; it is certain that the latter have more true joy. A schoolboy's life is like the little brook which goes laughing
and singing on its way, but is easily fretted into foam,
and bubbles up with impatience over every pebble; a
man's life resembles the river, to whose surface such
obstructions hardly send even a ripple.
Our evening sessions at the camp-fire still continued, and at one of these our quarter-master, who
had before illustrated the fact that bribery and corruption do not always go together, gave us a pleasant
story at his own expense, illustrating how, when post
quarter-master, he was distanced by a Yankee sutler,
a story which seems to come in naturally enough as a
part,f this mosaic of campaign experience. -
"It was our busiest period at Aquia; troops and
stores were coming almost hourly, and I had been at
233 
234  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
work day and night for at least three weeks, with
scarcely time enough for an occasional nap. You
may imagine how, under such circumstances, a man
would feel bored by useless questions, and how he
rnight lose his temper.
"One busy day a clean, dipper-dapper, keen-eyed
down-Easter presented himself, and at once proceeded
to inform me that he had brought down on the steamer Keyport a large lot of "perishable goods," which
he desired to sell to the soldiers, and wished me to assign a spot whereon he might put up a tent for a
couple of days.
"He was at once informed that no such permit
could be granted; but, unwilling to give it up so easily, he commenced a ries of undertone mutterings,
such as,'WAVell, this is hard!'' Out two hundred dollars!''Don't allow any body to sell!''Pies will
spoil,' etc.
"Finding, that there would be no such thing as getting the fellow off without ordering him out peremptorily, I at once told him that time was precious, and
that he must leave. This order seemed to have little
effect on the muttering. Finally, in piteous tones, he
'wanted to know' if I couldn't make an exception in
his case.
"'Now, sir,' said I,' leave this office!  I told you
No, and that is law. If you want to sell your old pies,
go over on the hill and peddle them to teamsters and
contrabands; you can't sell'em any where about
here!'
"The' hbill' was about half a mile from my offitce, on
the edge of the swamp, and, as I thought, entirely outside the limits of our sale-ground; but he bowed and
departed in a hurry. 
CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG.
"Some ten days afterward, when this little incident
was forgotten, as I was going down the pier to the
boat just arrived, a man accosted me very politely,
"'Captain! there's a box on board the Keyport for
you.'
"Supposing the stranger to be a new clerk, I asked
him what it looked like, when he commenced a series
of killing bows, and faltered out at last,
"' Three dozen of Scotch ale, sir!'
"Being still somewhat puzzled, I asked from whom
it came.
"'Why, captain, I-I-bought it for you!'
"'But, my dear sir, you are an entire stranger to
me, and why-* *'
"'Captain, don't you remember me?  I was here
about ten days ago with a little stock of pies and other perishable goods. You very kindly permitted me
to go over to the hill yonder to sell them, and I made
about three hundred dollars. I want you to drink my
health.'
"So we parted. WVhen I reflected more seriously
on the matter, I remembered that on the same day I
had sent him off so roughly, General Burnside told me
he intended to march his troops to Falmouth instead
of sending them on the cars,'for,' said the general,
men can walk, stores can not.'
"It appeared that my Yankee friend, all dressed in
gray, had heard of this order, and located himself on
the hill past which marched at least five thousand
men during the next twenty-four hours. Thus he
sold his pies and a quarter-master at the same time."
0
235 
236   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE HOSPITALS AND THE SANITARY COMMISSION.
URING all these weeks I never wandered over
the battle-field without meeting parties of visitors, men, women, and children, come to seek out its
most famous spots, to glean every little relic, to cut
the buried bullets out of the trees, to picnic somewhere
under the pleasant shade, and then to drive home with
their curiosity fully gratified. One thing quite impressed me, and that was the rapidity with which the
more marked traces of the battle disappeared. The
roar of the last cannon had not ceased to reverberate
among her leafy aisles before Nature, silent but ever
active, had commenced to purify herself from the soil
and stain of battle, and cover up the bloody footprints
of War. In two weeks' time, only the broken-down
fences, the shattered and ruined buildings, the torn-up
cornfields, and the frequent clusters of graves reminded the traveler of the late struggle.
A year or two, and even these evidences will disappear. These bullet-marks in the trees will be overgrown with fresh bark, fences, and fields, and farmhouses will resume their wonted appearance, and over
the graves and trenches, where lie the buried thousands, will once more wave a thick green mantle of
bearded grain. Would that thus might disappear
from every Northern and Southern home the sa[
memories of this battle; that Time the Comforter 
HOSPITALS AND SANITARY COMMISSION.  237
might thus heal the wounded hearts and dry up the
bitter tears in every Northern and Southern family!
Would that thus speedily every reminder of this rebellion might disappear from the national memory,
every rankle from the national consciousness; that
our present national wound might be healed to the
central point of difficulty, never to break forth afresh,
and leaving no ineffaceable scar!
The little village of Sharpsburg still bore striking
evidences of the fearful nature of the late cannonading. At one period in the battle it must have been a
target for both armies, and there was hardly a single
house in the whole town, no matter how humble, whose
roof, walls, or doors were not pierced and torn with
shot and shell. And yet quite a number of its residents remained in their cellars during the whole raging of this iron storm. I can imagine few situations
more trying to the nerves than to be thus pent up in
gloom while that tempest howled and shrieked through
the air, or came hurtling in the rooms overhead. A
good Union lady, who visited our head-quarters, gave
us a description of this season of horror which greatly
interested us. How they made their little preparations of food and clothing, and went down, children
and all, as soon as the first shell burst over the village;
how they listened, expecting every moment to hear
some of the shrieking fiends burst through their own
walls, perhaps to penetrate into their retreat; how her
husband was forced to rush up and put out the fire
caught from a shell which exploded in the second
story; how hours lengthened out into seeming days
of suspense and fear; how they all mutually sustained
each other, she narrated as only a woman can. After 
238 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
hearing her story, I felt that a far pleasanter position
would have been the very front of the battle.
It was pleasant to converse with these true Union
women, of whom I met several in this vicinity. Some
of them were slaveholders, but declared that they preferred the Constitution of our fathers even to slavery.
Well and faithfully did they do their duty also in the
hospitals, with which this whole region was now filled.
The army of the wounded, numbering at least ten
thousand, occupied more than seventy of these impromptu hospitals, stretching from the Potomac out
over the battle-field, through Sharpsburg, Keadysville,
and Boonesborough, even to Frederick and Hagerstown, while miles of ambulances bore daily northward
their precious freights of patriotic pain. Over the
river, also, we could see the red flag waving from
many a dwelling, the hospital of the wounded rebels,
whom the enemy had carried with them in their late
escape. In barns, and sheds, and farm-houses; in
churches, halls, and residences; in colonies of hospital
marquees; in yardsand gardens crowded with sheltertents; wherever, in a word, there was space for the
narrow hospital-bed, there lay a soldier chained to his
couch by a wound more or less severe.  No matter
what flag he followed into battle, an equal surgical
aid surrounded him, an equal kindness soothed his
agony. Once within the hospital, the distinction between the patriot and the rebel was forgotten; and I
was touched in noticing that, in some of the little
grave-yards which sprang up, ah! so rapidly, near the
different hospitals, the men of the North and the men
of the South slept side by side together.
Most of the rebel wounded lay in the barns and 
HOSPITALS AND SANITARY COMMISSION.  239
other buildings near the river and inside their former
lines, these localities having been selected by their
brigade surgeons during the battle. Miserably deficient at first, they gradually put on an air of comparative comfort; every one had in a day or two his own
bed and a plentiful supply of food; but the rebel surgeons, who had been left behind in charge, did not, in
general, impress me either with their ability or their
tenderness. Nor was I particularly impressed with
the average appearance of the rebel wounded, the rank
and file lacking, to some extent, that look of intelligence and self-reliance which their general want of
education and the social despotism of the slaveocracy
of the South had not tended to awaken. Occasionally, however, an interesting face attracted me, while the
fact that they were sufferers invested all of them with
a certain dignity.  Lying among rough, commonplacelooking men, I saw here and there a boy, too young
for war, doubtless the darling of some Southern home,
lying pale and weak after the loss of a leg or an arm,
yet still full of pluck and courage. Some were only
lingering for a moment on the shore of the Great
Ocean, with hardly a breath of life fluttering through
their rent canvas; some moaned despairingly in their
agony; some lay still and motionless in the borderland between sleeping and waking; but most of them
were not severely wounded, and responded in pleasant terms to every kindly utterance. Hiad there been
any personal repulsion in the atmosphere of those
rebel hospitals I should have discovered it; but after
these visits I always felt like asking myself what devil
it was that had made these men my enemies.
Sometimes I listened to their little histories, not 
240   THIE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
eventful usually, but interesting as part of the same
old story of the affections, ever old and ever new,
which, when truly told, comes home to all of us. One
thing surprised me, and that was the strange pleasure
which some evidently experienced in exhibiting their
half-healed stumps. Imagine a man proudly uncovering the stump of his leg or arm, and holding it up
with the exultant remark, "Doesn't it look splendidly, sir?" The sight somewhat appals you, but it will
never do to betray a hint of this feeling to the palefaced youth looking up so eagerly into your eyes.
"Yes, it does look finely," you respond, with the mental addition, "very finely for a stump;" and then you
talk with him about the new improvements in the
manufacture of limbs, and each helps the other, until
you both reach almost to the point of declaring that a
leg or two more or less is a matter of very little consequence; and then you look again into the still pallid face glowing with temporary excitement, and think
of this mere youth launching out upon the great sea
of life in such a shattered bark as this, and you turn
away lest your feelings should betray you.
One young rebel, handsome and generous-looking,
became one day quite enthusiastic as he spoke of his
future career, but the initial fact upon which that future turned was the going to Philadelphia to get a
false leg-going to the land of those who had just hurt
him for the means of cure. Is there not something a
little suggestive in this? In the same hospital I saw
the poor maimed hulk of a man propped against the
wall, both legs having been shot off in the battle, while
another with seven distinct bullet wounds was likely
to recover. The majority seemed hopeful, but there 
HOSPITALS AND SANITARY COMMISSION.  241
were very many whose fate was written out upon their
emaciated countenances; there was no need for the
surgeon to whisper it to you as you moved by.
I learned from several of our surgeons that wounds
of a precisely similar character were far oftener fatal
with the rebels than with our own men, the stamina
of the former being impaired by scant food and great
privations. Poor fellows! one needed only an occasional interview with them to be convinced that they
-to whom freedom would be a savior, while slavery
has been a destroyer-were led into this rebellion by
the same motive power which impels the /Iindoo mother, who, at the bidding of her priests, her ignorance,
and her prejudices, flings her first-born into the Sacred
River.
I found the rebel officers frank, courteous, and willing to converse, admitting, with little qualification,
their failure in Maryland. We discussed the different
positions of the late battle, how this or that division
was located, and so branched off into other subjects,
but the very word slavery was tabooed as too exciting for a hospital. I felt instinctively that the bare
utterance of that word might cause the maimed man
with whom I talked to leap from his bed in defense
of his idol.
Of course the main feeling, as we passed through
the rebel hospitals, was that of pity rather than of
sympathy. Sincere and brave as they unquestionably
were, they were to me the victims of a wicked cause.
Poor consolation must it be for a young man condemned to limp through life, that he lost his limb in
the service of a confederacy whose foundation-principles are so contrary to our ideas of natural justice.
T 
242   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
Pity, and pity only, was about all one could feel for
such a victim.
But when I entered the hospitals of our own brave
boys far other feelings thrilled me. Never did I get
over the half-reverent feeling with which I moved
among them. This was no place for pity, but rather
for a sympathetic encouragement which usually flowed forth in words of proud congratulation. A very
large majority of our wounded suffered little pain, and
though their confinement was tedious, yet their permanent cure was only a question of time. For the life
of me I could not feel much commiseration for such
as these. A man who goes home from this war decorated with a deep-laid sear or even deprived of a
limb, will bear henceforth to his grave the honorable
insignia of American chivalry; his wounds, like the
battle-crosses of the great Napoleon, have admitted
him into the republican Legion of Honor.  His town
and neighborhood shall be proud of him; his family
shall have rich possessions in the memory of his patriotic bravery; when he dies, his maimed body shall
be laid to rest as that of a public benefactor, and his
children and grandchildren shall speak of him with
honest pride as one who, in the crisis of his country's
destiny, in an hour when right and wrong were struggling for the possession of a continent, bared his breast
on the right side. But there were some already passing through the pearly gates into the Great Hereafter,
and others, still encouraged by hope, who were forming plans for a future they would not live to enjoy.
In such a presence a man feels the poverty of his own
commonplaces; nor dares he, unless in his highest
mood, interfere between the departing spirit and its 
HOSPITALS AND SANITARY COMMISSION.  248
God. But if he have any thing of his mother left in
him uncongealed by the frosty touch of the world's
collisions and cares, be sure it will leap up into his
eyes, perhaps even moisten them a little. WVe will
stammer out our little word of sympathy and pass on,
thankful at least that, though his earthly life ends here,
yet is every one of these men, now dying for us and
for his country, really going home.
The saddest thought which I brought with me from
these hospitals was that so much suffering and death
seemed all in vain; that still fiercer battles must be
fought; still other fields crimsoned with patriotic
blood; still other thousands of our brave countrymen
must suffer and die. And yet not wholly in vain, for
all this death is part of the great sacrifice which always has preceded any advance of humanity toward
the right, the just, and the true; all this suffering is
part of the great agony out of which a truly free nation shall yet be born.
Not one complaining word did I hear in the Union
hospitals. Courageous, hopeful, and patriotic, they
bore without a murmur their painful wounds, their
tedious confinement. Would that between these miles
of beds could pass the procession of Northern traitors;
these peace-men who would stab these brave boys behind their backs; these men who by their treason encourage the South to persist in its rebellion; who rejoice in our defeats, and turn pale at every Union vietory; who are sold to the South body and soul, but
have not courage enough to join the rebel ranks. It
is possible that even these might be shamed by the
sight of so much patience and constancy into something resembling patriotism. 
244   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
It is probable that never, in the whole history of
warfare, were the wounded in any battle so expeditiously and comfortably cared for. The surgical department of the army is, in general, admirably organized and conducted; the Sanitary Commission greatly
aided in the good work, while volunteer nurses and
private donations lent valuable assistance. As speedily as they could bear transportation, our own wounded were carried to Frederick in ambulances, and so on
to Washington or elsewhere, while the rebels were
paroled and allowed to pass on their own way. Many
of these came North, and were lost to the rebel cause
forever.
I have referred to the Sanitary Commission, and no
one could visit these hospitals without becoming a
firm believer in the importance and value of this institution, as supplementary to the regular surgical department. Think for a moment of the terrible exigency of the occasion! As the result of one day's
fighting, more than ten thousand Union and rebel soldiers were thrown upon our hands at Antietam, needing beds instead of the blankets of their usual bivouac,
food more delicate than the ordinary army ration, bedclothes and under-clothes of every description, and the
many other articles which a sick man requires. Take
into consideration the deficiency of army transportation, except for the absolute necessaries of the battlefield and the hospital, and the fact that for days after
such a battle the surgical staff is busied incessantly in
the primary operations and in the first dressing of
wounds, and you will see how this commission, with
its thorough organization, and lavish expenditure of
its means for these extra supplies and their transporta 
HOSPITALS AND SANITARY COMMISSION.  245
tion, becomes to our poor wounded boys the source of
incalculable comfort and solace. It follows hard upon
the footsteps of our advancing armies, so that within
three days its forty agents had distributed food and
clothing among eight thousand wounded men; and
during this battle month of September it divided more
than $400,000 worth of supplies among the various
Eastern and Western armies. I regret to add that
some of our hospitals at Antietam were indebted to
this commission for their first supply of chloroform;
the surgeon found without it should have been in stantly sent home in disgrace.
So extensive are the ramifications of this commission, and so thoroughly have its agents been drilled in
the good work, and so completely has it the confidence
and aid of government officials, that one dollar expended through its channels is equal to about three expended by private benevolence or state societies. It
is natural that our kind-hearted women should desire
that their offerings should go to their special friends,
though, if they reflect, they could hardly wish that one
man should enjoy these delicacies, while his brothers
in patriotic devotion, the men who stood shoulder to
shoulder with him in the hour of trial, are left without them. Surely, if there be a place in the world for
impartiality in the distribution of articles of comfort
and solace, it is the hospital of those who have been
wounded in a common cause. An orange, a jelly, a
glass of wine, would choke a patriot if he saw his palefaced companion on the next cot going without one.
Besides, this private bounty is simply impossible.
At Antietam, for example, though we were in a friendly state, with railroads connecting the North with 
246 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
Frederick, Hagerstown, and Harper's Ferry, it was
well-nigh impracticable, so entirely was every means
of transportation required for the purposes of government, to get even a small package from home during
all these days of waiting. What the fate of such a
package must be under less favorable circumstances
may be easily estimated. A wounded man would
probably die or return to his regiment before any such
private gift could reach him.  What we need is to
have these supplies ready at once, even before the
battle is over, and this is the office well performed of
the Sanitary Commission.
For one, I believe that this commission is one of the
first-fruits of our most advanced Christian civilization,
the first inroad into the domain of war of a practical
Christianity which shall yet throttle and destroy this
demon forever. When I seek to estimate its value
and significance in its various supervisory, reformatory, and scientific, as well as benevolent operations,
to say nothing of those exceedingly valuable statistical collections which are to be the corner-stones of future history, I confess that I know of no calculus by
which correctly to compute them. Could the tens of
thousands of the blue-uniformed sufferers it has relieved utter their testimony, we might reach some adequate expression.
As to the Western Department, says General Rosecrans, February 2d, 1863, "While the general commanding highly appreciates and does not underrate
the charities which have been lavished on this army,
experience has demonstrated the importance of system
and impartiality, as well as judgment and economy, in
the forwarding and distribution of these supplies. In 
HOSPITALS AND SANITARY COMMISSION.  247
all these respects the United States Sanitary Commission stands unrivaled. Its organization, experience,
and large facilities for the work are such that the general does not hesitate to recommend, in the most urgent manner, all those who desire to send sanitary
supplies to confide them to the care of this commission."
As the result of these combined efforts of the surgical department and the Sanitary Commission at Antietam, the men were soon made thoroughly comfortable, and the feeling was sown broadcast throughout
the army that the soldier who perils his life in battle
is sure of kind and humane treatment should he receive a wound. IIow much our foes appreciated this
kindness was well illustrated by the remark of a rebel
officer, who said to me, as he looked up laughingly
from his bed on the floor of a barn, "I declare I am
almost sorry to quit; I haven't been so comfortable
since I entered the army." 
248 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XXIII.
ANTIETAM AND HARPER'S FERRY.
THIE  interior life at our head-quarters during these
days of waiting was, on the whole, lazy, tedious,
uneventful. A certain amount of routine work in the
morning, a gallop on official duty, or to one or more
of the hospitals, or for exercise, in the afternoon, pleasant evenings around the camp-fire, early to bed and
late to rise, so moved on the leaden-footed hours.
Under some circumstances this might have been
very agreeable. With little to do, surrounded with
pleasant friends, why not be perfectly easy and happy?
WVhy, amid the jokes at the mess-table, the ever-recurring question, "Why don't we move?"  The fact
is, that all this would be very delightful as a picnic,
but it was not to picnic in Maryland we had left our
families and deserted our Northern homes. The
weather was too fine to permit the thought of winterquarters, so that it was impossible to divest ourselves
of the belief that to-morrow, or to-morrow, we should
certainly move on.
I found it well-nigh impossible to read with much
profit even the few books I was able to procure. Outwardly, indeed, all was calm, broken only by the review
by the President, or the cannonading of an occasional
reconnoissance; but still there was a good deal of delectricity in the air; exaggerated reports lent their inciter
ment; there was always a feeling that the next hour 
ANTIETAM AND HARPER'S FERRY.
might see our canvas houses disappear, and the campstool exchanged for the saddle. It is difficult to study
profitably on board a ship at sea; in a tent, during a
campaign, it is well-nigh impossible. A quid nunc
can not be a student, and no coterie of quid nuncs has
a more restless expectancy of the something which is
to turn up than has a staff mess when within striking
distance of the enemy.
All this while, lazily stretched at ease along the
banks of the river for a distance of several miles, rested and slept the Army of the Potomac, every manl of
them with plenty to eat, plenty of sleep, and little to
do. A regiment or two, usually of cavalry, was occasionally sent across the river to find the bear, but to
return when the "tracks got too fresh;" and as week
after week of the lovely weather slipped by, we began
to accustom ourselves to the idea of winter-quarters.
About the pleasantest hour of the twenty-four was
that of our evening gathering around the camp-fire,
lighted at dusk by Berryman the faithful in front of
the general's tent. Among the many military experiences thrown into the general fund, the following,
related by one of our mess, will bear recording here.
"When I was out West, a military commission was
appointed to examine regimental officers as to their
qualifications, and some of the colonels and majors
used to be forever in my quarters, questioning me as
to the probable style of examination, and looking very
uneasy and miserable. One day, after the examining
board had adjourned, I went up to their examination
room and sketched out on the blackboard some fearfully complicated plans of impossible fortifications, to.
gether with a few little interesting propositions, such
L2
249 
2050   THE BIVOUAC A4D THE BATTLE-FIELD.
as a-+bVxy'=       " "' followed by a long series of
p.-q'. a;    a"
hieroglyphics, which purported to prove the truth of
this highly important equation.
"Shortly after my return to my own quarters, one
of the candidates for examination presented himself,
looking nervous and wo-begone, to talk over his anticipated martyrdom.'Captain, I wish this confounded examination was over!'
"'Why, colonel, it seems to me that you are making more out of it than it deserves; I don't believe it
is going to puzzle you much. They will, of course,
begin with some very simple question, as, for example,'What are the constituents of gunpowder?'
"'But I don't know what gunpowder is made of,
though I know well enough how to shoot it.'
"'Well, colonel, then they'll probably ask you what
is the velocity of a cannon ball the third second of its
flight, and how many grains of gunpowder it takes
to start it.'
"To this a long-drawn-out whistle of wonder was the
only response.' By-the-by, colonel, the board has adjourned; let's go up, and perhaps we can see on the
blackboard what kind of questions they have asked
to-day.'
"On entering the examination-room, and catching
one glimpse of its mysteries in chalk, the colonel started back, exclaiming,'Christopher Columbus! Well,
if it takes all that to make a colonel, then I'm floored,
that's certain!'
"The next day, however, the colonel's agony was
over; as he was a good practical officer, he readily
passed, and many a laugh we had afterward over my
little ruse de guerre." 
ANTIETAM TO HARPER'S FERRY.
October lOth, 1862. Having some business at Harper's Ferry, fourteen miles distant from our camp, I
rode thither to-day, followed by my sergeant, and accompanied by one of our aids, a smooth-faced son of
New York, cool and brave in battle. The ride was
one of the pleasantest I ever enjoyed. Through all
this portion of its devious course the Potomac has elbowed the Maryland hills out of its way, leaving only
space enough at their base for the Chesapeake and
Ohio Canal, and a narrow roadway partially scooped
out of the side of the mountain. The Virginia bank
is more level, less bold and striking, relieving the view
with glimpses of green fields and fertile farms. The
yet youthful Potomac is not yet far enough from its
birthplace among the Alleghanies to be very sedate
and quiet-is indeed quite turbulent and frisky at
times, only to be cured of these fevers of youth when
at Harper's Ferry it weds the pleasant Shenandoah,
after that growing calmer and more dignified every
day, as they glide on to the ocean together.
A canal is in general about as commonplace an object as can well be devised, but this section of the
Ohio and Chesapeake looked any thing but commonplace to-day. On one side overhung by mountains,
cut out, in fact, at some points from their rocky base,
on the other fringed with a narrow belt of tall, o'erspreading trees, its waters undisturbed by the nondescript half- vessel, half- box canal- boat, its locks all
closed and silent, it was actually picturesque in its
many windings. The road was so crowded with armywagons, and withal so dusty, that we were glad to
quit it for the shaded canal pathway. The little belt
of trees between us and the river was picketed by our
251 
252   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
troops, snugly ensconced in the shade, and ready to
give the alarm should the enemy attempt to cross.
We had this pathway almost exclusively to ourselves; stopped to pick a few wild grapes, or to enjoy
some new vista of autumn loveliness, as a curve in the
canal path treated us to a fresh view of the river or
opening through the hills; and so we found ourselves
about noon riding under Maryland Heights, opposite
the town of Harper's Ferry. The shallow, foaming
river boiled and bubbled between us and this little
elevated angle thrust out at the point of junction of
the Potomac and Shenandoah, and frowned upon, buttressed by, absolutely pent in by mountains. On its
left Maryland Heights overlook the town, on its right
and front are Loudon Heights, with Bolivar Heights
in its rear, every one of these now crowned by our
batteries and whitened with our camps. It adds to
the aggravation caused by the late capture of this spot,
with its garrison of ten thousand men, to see how carefully the stable has been locked now that the horse is
stolen. It will not do to think of this, however, or we
shall lose all pleasure in our visit.
The river is here some five hundred feet wide, and
we crossed it at the ford, to enter by a gateway into
the government inclosure, with its work-shops, arsenals, and store-houses all in ruins and black with fire.
Near the main entrance, the engine-house wherein
John Brown and his little party defended themselves
still stood uninjured, as also the gate which afforded
him a temporary barrier. We also paused to take a
look at the now ruined bridge, the scene of other impressive incidents in this exciting tragedy.
I have never been able to unite in the wholesale 
ANTIETAM TO HARPER'S FERRY.
praise or the wholesale denunciation which has sur rounded the name of John Brown.  He was a com pound of the old Puritan of Cromwell's time and Don
Quixote de la Mancha, walking ever in the felt pres ence of his God, and fighting with his Bible in one
hand and his musket in the other, as did the one, and
yet imbued with that native chivalry of soul, that self forgetting spirit of knighthood, exaggerated, half-fren zied, regardless of practical consequences, or unable to
foresee them, which make the old Spanish knight one
of the sweetest and best-beloved of all real or imaginary characters. The old man stood before me in actual bodily presence as I paused at this spot-this spot
which is to be hereafter classic ground, as time throws
into shadow the more rash and Quixotic features of
his undertaking, to bring into the foreground his
deeply religious spirit, his wonderful devotion to what
he deemed his God-given duty, his real greatness of
soul.
When I think of this Harper's Ferry tragedy, I am
reminded of an incident in the late English war in
India. A battery plantedtby the natives on the heights
beneath which the English army was passing had been
very troublesome, and a small detachment of a dozen
men was sent out to reconnoitre its position. Clambering through the woods, they at length reached a
spot where they discovered that the battery was formidably posted and held by a large force of the enemy. Just then the notes of an English bugle reached
their ears, sounding their recall, but unfortunately they
mistook it for the signal to advance. Without a moment's hesitation, they charged the battery, and were
killed to the last man.  The English sent out after
253 
254   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ward a large force in quest of them, which charged
and took the battery, to find them all laid out side by
side behind the guns, every man with a red cord about
his wrist, the proudest decoration of Indian valor,
placed there by their admiring enemies.
Like these brave Englishmen, John Brown, who felt
himself called of God and enlisted for life in the great
cause of freedom, evidently in this case misunderstood
his orders. Like them, also, he extorted even from his
foes the tribute of their hearty admiration, and went
to his grave decorated with the red cord of valor
which makes his name immortal. His rude prisonhouse became for them a temple where men who came
to scoff remained to reverence. Times have indeed
changed since then. John Brown's detachment was
only very little in advance of the main body, and I
could not help wishing that, in this stand-up fight between Freedom and Slavery, we had a few more men
of religious enthusiasm like his-men possessed, inspired with the great idea-God's hammers for crushing out wrong.
Harper's Ferry is a little, narrow-streeted, dusty, dirty hamlet.  There is only room on the little plateau
at the apex of the angle for one main street; it was
now crowded with sutlers' shops and with military
visitors, and I was glad to mount the heights in rear
to be rewarded with a fine view of the Shenandoah
and a glance down the Potomac.  About 3 P.M. we
started on our return, reached camp in the midst of a
driving rain, and were soon occupied in discussing a
good beefsteak, with baked potatoes and other accompaniments, at our pleasant mess-table.
The butter was unusually nice this evening, and 
ANTIETAM TO HARPER'S FERRY.
had its little history, which was related with great
gusto by our quarter-master. It seems that a brigade quarter-master, in need of forage, had sent out a
team of wagons, and taken some hay from a well-todo farmer in the vicinity. A day or two after, the
farmer, fat, healthy, and weighing over two hundred,
brought into our quarter-master's tent a greasy-looking document like the following:
" Reseaved of          fife tuns and a haff of Timithy hay, at fifteen dolers a tun- Seventy 5 and 7
dolers and haff. Altogether 82 dolers and haff.
" THIOMAS RITCHIN, Wagen-master."
Of course the farmer wanted his money, and had
somehow discovered that vouchers like the above were
not current at Washington.  The matter did not belong to our quarter-master in any way, but he very
kindly made out proper vouchers for the man, and instructed him how to get them signed, and so get his
money. tIe was, of course, profuse in his thanks.
A few days after he again presented himself with a
similar paper belonging to a friend, and, as his friendly protestations had won the heart of our quarter-master, he was again furnished with the proper set of
vouchers.
Upon entering the tent this last time, he handed
the captain a small roll of butter, saying that he had
brought it for him, knowing that good butter was
scarce. After many thanks for the present, the butter
was turned over to our mess.
Ihis business over, our portly friend still sat in the
tent, until, as the captain was about to leave, he stammered out,
255 
256   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
" Oh! that butter, captain, is a matter belonging to
the women-folks, and they'll expect their pay."
Greatly surprised, the quarter-master inquired how
much he should pay him.
"WVell," said he, "I git a quarter at home, but as I
came through Sharpsburg this morning they told me
that butter was selling for thirty-five cents a pound."
"Then you confess," said the captain, "that while
you are satisfied with a quarter at home, you are willing, on account of the friendship you feel for me, to
charge ten cents a pound extra. However, we want
butter, so here is your money."
"Captain, won't you get me the butter-rag? The
women-folks always expect it back now cotton is so
high."
We had several similar experiences in our Southern
Fur. But the butter was good, and was worth more
than the sum it cost our quarter-master in the mirth
it elicited.
Sunday, October 12th. Last night, about midnight,
orders came to send out one of our brigades on picket;
quite a warlike demonstration, which disturbed somewhat the quiet on the Potomac. To-day we moved
our head-quarters to a spot nearer Sharpsburg, where
the general hired rooms in a house, and the staff encamped in a field close by. This qutiarter-of-a-mile
move was highly encouraging; it was at least evident
that we were not permanently located for life on the
Antietam battle-field.
Our tents were this time pitched in two parallel
lines, a more sociable arrangement; and about midnight I was awakened by what I at first thought a
cavalry charge, but which proved to be the rush of a 
ANTIETAM TO IHARPER'S FERRY.
herd of army bullocks on a stampede. In a twinkling
down fell the tent of our inspector general, leaving
him struggling in its folds and calling lustily for
"Amos," his black shadow. Other tents rocked and
swayed hither and thither; our fat friends fell over
and over among the tent-ropes, picked themselves up
again, and rushed on still more madly into the rain
and the darkness. The colonel was soon extricated
from his canvas winding-sheet, and took refuge with
the adjutant general; the list of killed and wounded
was made out in blank, and all was again quiet on the
Potomac.
]Vednesday, October 151z. Some excitement at our
mess-table to-day over a complete set of white stoneware and other table finery. This eating and drinking from "silver washed with tin," however fashionable in the army, is not, after all, the ne plus ultra of
luxury, and the thanks of the mess were incontinently tendered to our quarter-master, who had made the
purchase for us. But this gentleman was not himself just now, being grievously troubled with what
he called "neuralgia" when seriously inclined, and
"spiflications" when humorously moved, but which
was, in the vernacular, "old-fashioned rheumatism."
We joked him after the usual fashion, accusing him
of "preparing the public mind" for anl application for
sick-leave, but it was evidently no joke to him.
Fridacy, October 17th. This afternoon I walked with
a friend down toward the river. On our way we
passed through the encampment of the 118th Pennsylvania, and noticed that the men were all falling in
in their company streets, and that the tents of the
field and staff were surrounded by quite a crowd
257 
258   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
of general, staff, and other officers. On inquiry, we
learned that a new flag was to be presented to the
regiment by a committee of Philadelphians, and paused
to look on a while. The regimental line looked finely, every man in new uniform, and gave us a good
specimen drill.
While this was going on, the field officers and their
guests enjoyed a collation spread upon an open-air
table. Not being expected at the feast, we concluded
to take our look at the river, and return in time for
the presentation. It was convenient to pass the regimental guard, some forty men drawn up on the left,
and now standing at ease. What was my horror when,
as I drew near, the sergeant called out "Attention,
battalion! shoulder arms! present arms!" thus thrusting upon me a salute not due to my rank, no doubt to
the amusement of the officers standing near, and to
his own mortification when his mistake should be discovered. There was no dodging it, so I received and
acknowledged it as if I were Field Marshal the Duke
of Wellington, or one of our new-fledged brigadiers.
On our return, however, from our glimpse at the sunset, I took care to pass in another direction.' The
collation was still in full blast, and it was getting late,
so that we did not, after all, assist at the flag presentation.
Su?2day, October 19tl. To-day I resolved to go to
church, if such a thing were possible. All the little.
meeting-houses in the adjacent villages were occupied
as Hospitals, but I had heard of an Episcopal chapel
some seven miles away, and thither I now proceeded.
It was a lovely autumn day, soothing but not melain
choly, and a pleasant hour's ride up the Hagerstown 
ANTIETAM TO HARPER'S FERRY.
turnpike brought me to the pretty stone chapel just
in the mood for a quiet hour within. I was at once
courteously welcomed to a seat; the congregation,
composed mainly of young ladies, came in; the choir
gave us some music; but the minister was not, so that
after waiting half an hour I retired.
Determined not to be foiled, I.now rode off to a
Dunker meeting-house, whose locality had been described to me. And a romantic ride that was, through
narrow country lanes, beneath the arches of forestaisles, and among some of the finest orchards and
thriftiest farms I ever saw. This Dunker settlement
would be considered remarkably inviting every where;
but to a man tired of camps and sick of war, it was
positively enchanting. Houses chiefly f stone, large
and well-appointed barns and outhouses, fields of the
finest corn I ever saw, orchards heavy with fruitwhat else could a quiet man desire?
Through this paradise I reached at last the plain
brick meeting-house, now surrounded with comfortable family carriages, tied my horse with the rest, and
entered the large square room full of worshipers.
At a long table extending across the head of the room
sat the elders of the community, the males dressed in
a semi-Quaker garb, the females wearing plain dresses
and pretty white caps by no means injurious to their
personal appearance. The body of the house was
filled with benches, whereon sat the men on one side
and the women on the other.
The services consisted of extemporaneous addresses
by such of the brethren as were moved to speak, of
short prayers, and hymns plaintive and peculiar sung 
by the whole congregation. To me it was an im
259 
260 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
pressive service, full of earnest religious spirit. At
its close the fraternal kiss was exchanged among the
brethren, and it was announced that a sort of lovefeast would be soon in order.
This religious fraternity, which is found in various
parts of Pennsylvania especially, is bound together as
a sort of community, though each member owns his
own farm and enjoys the fruits of his own labor.  It
is of German parentage, and seems to combine the
characteristics of the Methodist and the Quaker. The
members own no slaves, and are very strong for the
Union, though opposed to war; they greeted me with
great cordiality after the service, and I rode back to
camp quite satisfied with my morning's experience. 
FAREWELL TO MARYLAND.
CHAPTER XXIV.
FAREWELL TO MARYLAND.
ONDAY, October 24th. Our division was this day
ordered to Bakersville, half a dozen miles up
the Potomac, and after breakfast I rode thither with
the general and our topographical lieutenant, in order
to select proper locations for the different brigades.
Even so small a change was pleasant; the morning
ride very agreeable; wood and water were found in
abundance, and long before the brigades arrived their
camping-grounds were ready for them.  By nightfall
they were comfortable; pickets were sent out to line
the banks of the river; every body but the division
staff was at home.
The general, who now had his wife with him, hadcl
taken rooms in the chief residence of Bakersville, and
we had selected a pretty spot close at hand for the
head-quarter tents. But day glided slowly into night,
and our head-quarter wagons had not arrived. As it
turned out, they had mistaken the road, and gone off
upon a reconnoissance in another direction. The night
was rainy, and it was after 8 o'clock before they came
slowly rumbling along. All ready stood the division
guard to unpack and pitch our tents; all ready were
our servants to set up our simple housekeeping gear;
our cook seized at once his mess-chest, and in half an
hour I was sitting comfortably in my tent, every thing 
in its place, hearing the rain patter down upon the
261 
262   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
roof, and indulging with a friend or two in a late dinner of coffee, bread and butter, and pickled oysters.
I declare that it is worth while to stand on a wet and
dismal hill-side for half an hour, so as really to enjoy
the satisfaction of being once more pleasantly housed.
Bakersville rejoices in one store, with a motley
stock of groceries, medicines, and dry goods, consecrate to barter and country gossip, and in some half
a dozen residences, so that our staff and attendants
doubled its population. Our tents were perched upon
an elevation overlooking the little hamlet; our division guard and orderlies encamped in a field on the
opposite side of the road, while in the rear our cooks
and servants reigned supreme. As the evenings were
now cold, a big fire was built at nightfall in front of
each tent, the tent-flaps flung back, and a portion of
the heat thus penetrated within. Two of our lieutenants had confiscated somewhere a sheet-iron stove with
a long piece of pipe, which, when thrust horizontally
out of their tent-flaps, looked like a gun protruding
from an embrasure.
The general now occupied himself in thoroughly
exploring the vicinity, while our topographical officer
was busied in mapping it out.  During our stay here
I rode twice to Hagerstown, some twelve miles distant,
a pretty town; and as one or two rebel raids around
our quiescent army had just stirred up the apprehensions of its citizens, it was overflowing with uniforms.
Our stay here was to be very brief; the usual order
to have three days' cooked rations was issued to the
men shortly after our arrival, and at length, on Sunday, October 26th, the order to march actually came.
Once more we were to cross the Potomac into Vir 
FAREWELL TO MARYLAND.
ginia; probably a long and weary march was before
us. The wet season was also at hand, and on this day
of moving the rain came down in a deluge. But every one was glad of the expected change. By noon
the whole column was in motion; our head-quarter
tents were all struck save my own and the quartermaster's, and the wagons moved off, sinking to their
hubs in the mud as they rolled slowly along.
I have noticed that the rougher the day and the
more horrible the marching, the more jovial and exhilarated are the troops. As they came plunging
along through the deep mud, almost staggering under
the torrents of rain, past my tent on the roadside, I
have rarely seen them in better spirits. I had appropriated the stove of the lieutenants, and its long pipe
now projected from my tent-flaps and pointed straight
over the road. Not a company passed by without
some fling at my canvas fortress.  "Don't shoot!"
would cry, in imploring tones, some wag in uniform, as
he plowed through the mud, his heavy knapsack dripping with rain, his shelter-tent wound round his shoulders, his bayonet ornamented with a tin cup, and a
frying-pan strapped to his side; and "D-o-n-'t
shoot!" came in all sorts of laughing tones from the
waddling chorus.  "Lie down, boys, lie down!" the
usual order given to infantry when under artillery
fire and not themselves engaged. "Boys, we've got
to charge that battery!" interspersed with variations,
gave the bedrenched column a good deal of fun.
There was one good feature about this day's march.
It was not one of those doubtful days when, by picking your way, now here, now there, you can partially 
protect yourself, for the mud was deep and universal.
263 
264   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
There was no anxiety about it; your first plunge settled the matter, and you had wet feet and the entire
freedom of the road for the rest of the day.
" John Brown's body lies mouldering in his grave,
His soul is marching on,"
was ever and anon wafted to my ears by a chorus of
marching singers. What a dearth we have in America of good common songs! I have heard fire companies returning from a fire actually compelled to
sandwich a good old hymn between two bacchanalian
refrains, having quite exhausted their favorite melodies. "We are bound for the land of Canaan" does
not flow naturally from a great two-fisted, red-shirted
fellow, nor could I ever enjoy hearing a crowd of
roughs yelling out at the top of their lungs, "I want
to be an angel," especially if they qualified each verse
with an intermediate dash of oaths. In all seriousness, that man would be a public benefactor who would
give our soldiers some simple patriotic songs, each
with a good chorus, to lighten their weary marches
and cheer their evening camp-fires.
So very slow was the movement of the division
that it was after nightfall before the rear brigade
marched by, and still poured down the driving rain.
Fortunately, the night's march was not a long one; yet
I felt almost a compunction of conscience as I laid
down in my camp-bed and thought of the poor fellows
bivouacking in the wet fields.
Monday, October 27th. This morning the rain had become more reasonable, did not come down so uncompromisingly, and at noon the heavens had gotten over
their weeping-fit, and once more smiled on us.  Great
was the loading of wagons with quarter-master and 
FAREWELL TO MARYLAND.
commissary stores, and the last two tents disappeared
from beside the school-house, my own masked battery
being one of them.
At breakfast I had achieved a horse-trade. My
mess having departed yesterday, I breakfasted at a
farm-house, and there sat at meat with us a stranger,
uncouth, unkempt, unclean. Happening to mention
that I should require another horse, my mare being
overworked, he of course had just the animal, and aft er breakfast brought to my tent a beast, large, black,
clumsy, and strong, with big feet for wading through
the mud. It was my duty to inspect and try him.
Now if there was any one quality for which I was
noted among the staff, it was my entire ignorance of
the good points of a horse; but I mounted the black
Bucephalus, rode him a couple of hundred yards, and
returned looking very wise and saying nothing. Thus
I left it to the horse-dealer to make the first move,
and the trade began. As it is the common belief that
in a horse-trade the most honest man will try to cheat
his own brother, I armed myself at all points with objections, but finally made an offer, which was, after
much demur, accepted, and the beast was mine. I
never repented of the bargain. Though evidently intended for a truck-horse, he was invaluable for the
slow, heavy work of a muddy campaign.
On my new black, then, my mare being ridden by
my servant, I was soon plunging through the mud out
of Bakersville, passing mile after mile of wagons, and
reached, about 4 P.M., the head of the column. The
division was just going into bivouac in the fields lying
under South Mountain, in the highly picturesque region at the western entrance of Crampton's Pass. On
M.1
265 
266   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the road I had passed our quarter-master riding in an
ambulance. The " spiflications" had proved too much
for him; but, though suffering much pain, he was jocose to the last, informing me that " the surgeons had
set on him," and given him the necessary document of
disability, and so we lost him.
It was late before the head-quarter tents arrived,
and as my own was still in the rear, I accepted the invitation of our colonel, a man with very correct ideas
as to comfort, to pass the night at the pleasant residence of Mr. Crampton. Colonel Phelps, commanding
the 1st brigade, and his staff soon joined us, and with
these gentlemen, of whose bravery in battle and openhearted hospitality I had enjoyed abundant evidences,
we supped and lodged. Among my many pleasant
campaigning memories, that merry evening round Mr.
Crampton's blazing logs, with its mixture of solid conversation and sweet cider, has pleasant prominence.
Tuesday, October 28th. A good sleep and a capital
breakfast prepared us for our morning march. As we
rode up and through Crampton's Pass we enjoyed a
fine sweep of landscape, and saw the town of Birketsville sitting up on its own little knoll, keeping watch
and ward over the broad checker-board of farms and
orchards. The general was riding at some distance in
front of the troops, and, having joined him, I was ordered to ride on to Berlin, the little town on the Potomac which had been selected as the crossing-place of
the army. My ride was, as usual, through a region
crowded with troops; the turnpikes were now helped
out by roads extemporized through the fields on both
sides; mile upon mile stretched the great caravan,
pressing slowly forward. It was evident that the
Aminy of the Potomac was at last in motion, 
FAREWELL TO MARYLAND.
Berlin was a very interesting place to staff officers
about this time, being situated on the railroad which
brought up all the army supplies, but ordinarily it has
few attractive features. For the next two or three days
the village and the region about it became one vast
military camp. General M'Clellan had already established his head-quarters in a grove back of the town,
and long wagon-trains were at once sent across the
river over the pontoon bridge with subsistence stores,
which they left in great stacks along the roadside, and
then returned for more. Berlin was to be our only
depot until we reached Warrenton, and every effort
was necessary to provide against contingencies.
Having finished my business, I rode back, to find
the division bivouacked about a mile out of town.
The evening air was lit up with ten thousand campfires; and when tattoo was sounded by the bugles in
every direction, we went to our beds, rejoicing in the
belief that the Army of the Potomac was so soon to
bid farewell to Maryland.
Thursday, October 30oth. Yesterday was a very busy
day for me, passed chiefly at Berlin; and to-day, at
1 P.M., we struck tents for the last time in Maryland,
and the division moved at once into the town. But
so many thousands were now pressing forward over
the pontoon bridge that our march was delayed for an
hour or two, and we sat with the general on our horses,
amused by the evident exhilaration of the troops as
they hurried by. The day was beautiful, and every
one had quite a touch of the old enthusiasm. At last
it was our turn to cross; the men who had been standing at ease along the streets and road fell in, the
bands gave us their most exhilarating music, and at
267 
268   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the head of his division of eight thousand men the
general, with his staff, moved toward the pontoon
bridge. All our tedious waiting at Antietam was forgotten; only the pleasant reminiscences of our Maryland campaign were left in our memory, and never
have I felt more sanguine of success than on this lovely afternoon.
Just as we reached the bridge my hand was seized
by a strong, two-handed grip, and, turning, I saw the
pleasant face of one of our Fredericksburg friends, a
good Union farmer of intelligence and thorough loyalty, who had been compelled to fly when our army relinquished that city.  His "God bless you!" and fervent hope that we might free his state in this second
trial, so that he might once more return home, greatly
impressed me. I accepted it as a good omen to be
thus cordially welcomed at the threshold of his state
by a patriotic and warm-hearted Virginian. 
ONCE MORE INTO VIRGINIA.
CHAPTER XXV.
ONCE MORE INTO VIRGINIA.
"ALL hail, Virginia! may we be better friends be    fore we again leave you!" exclaimed one of the
staff as we rode off the pontoon bridge, and the birds
responded with their merriest music; the trees, tinted
with the rich hues of autumn, bowed before the gentle
breeze, and whispered a God-speed; the Old Dominion
was giving us pleasant welcome to her sacred soil.
After such a greeting, who could remember the inhospitable treatment received from the people during our
last campaign in Virginia, or feel that we were now
among our enemies? Nor was there, during the first
few days of our march, any thing to disenchant us, for
we were moving through a lovely country, as yet undefaced by war, and received many a kindly greeting,
especially in that portion wherein peaceful Quakers
feasted on the fat of the land. For good living, commend me to a community of Friends!
It is true that we had no public demonstration of
welcome, but found many who still loved the old flag,
and whose greeting was affectionate and sincere. The
whole region impressed me with its loveliness; it was
seen under the auspices of delightful days and moonlit nights; the roads were in excellent condition, and
the men marched so well that before nightfall on our
first day we had reached our camp-ground at Bollington, nine miles from the river. As I sat that evening
269 
270   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
in my tent I heard once more the old Virginia music
-a distant cannonading-and thought that perhaps
to-morrow might bring us face to face with the enemy- Quien sab6?
But the division remained quietly in camp at Bollington during the next day, and I rode back to Berlin, returning in time for supper. Our epicurean staffcolonel had discovered a social oasis in the home of a
pleasant Union family, and here some of us messed
during our brief delay at this point. During this day
there was great excitement among our contrabands.
The idea of going back to their former homes greatly
disturbed them; nor could we blame them for desiring
to keep out of the old net. Our cook had no wish to
fry any more buckwheats for General Lee, his former
master, and my own body-servant came to me with a
look so piteous that I had not the heart to say him
nay; so we paid them, and sent them back to Berlin
rejoicing.
Only two were now left of the old set who linked
their fortunes with ours at Fredericksburg-Berryman, the old gray-headed darkey, whom I have seen
so often sitting in the shadow of the general's tent,
teaching himself to read, the ugliest and apparently
least serviceable of the whole party, whom the general took out of mere charity, but who gradually became useful, faithful, and wholly reliable, attending
the general with the same solicitude felt by a good
nurse for her little charge, and never known to be
away from the head-quarter wagons on a march; and
Charles, a handsome, six-foot, finely-formed native of
Maryland, who came nearer to Mrs. Stowe's Uncle
Tom in the simplicity, truthfulness, and deep religious 
ONCE MORE INTO VIRGINIA.
ness of his nature than any I ever met with. The latter, now that my former servant had departed, became
attached to the adjutant general and myself jointly,
and the whole care of overseeing the pitching of my
tent and furnishing it was safely intrusted to his
hands.
Saturday, Novenmber 1st. A hurried breakfast, especially for the lazy ones, for the order to march had
come, and our general, as usual, was ready on the instant. It was a fine day for marching; our route was
a little to the west of south, skirting the eastern slope
of the Blue Ridge, and gladdening us with many a bit
of romantic scenery. The men marched rapidly, so
that about 3 P.M. we reached Purcellville, where a halt
was ordered. We were now within a mile or two of
Snicker's Gap; General Pleasanton, with his cavalry
brigade and some flying artillery, was in advance beating np the enemy, who were on the other side of the
Blue Ridge, and made demonstrations at each of its
gaps of an intention to push through and attack us.
The cannonading in front had been kept up all day,
and our general, in putting his division into camp, was
unusually careful in the formation and supports of his
infantry line, and in the posting of his batteries.
About sunset our general ordered our old brigade,
now under the leadership of Lieutenant Colonel Hoffman, of the 56th Pennsylvania Volunteers, a very gallant officer, to the aid of General Pleasanton. They
were absent from the division three days, during which
period they stirred up the hiding rebels in a manner
which won the encomiums of all. Of course it would
not do for our army to march past these gaps, leav-r;
ing them in possession of an enemy who might pour
271 
272 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
through one of them upon our flank at any moment,
or cut off our rear whenever so disposed. These gates
must be ours, and our own men must keep the key,
before we could venture farther. Each was guarded
by rebel skirmishers with strong reserves, and each in
turn was taken and held by General Pleasanton. At
Ashby's Gap our old brigade did the work nobly.
Deployed as skirmishers, they advanced slowly up the
well-wooded sides of the narrow opening, drove in the
enemy's pickets, rallied on our own reserves, and advanced in line of battle, had a brisk fight with the
rebel reserves, and finally drove them altogether out
of this important passage. The contrabands of the
vicinity, here as elsewhere, acted as guides, and did
excellent service.
As our former brigade moved up the road, with the
hearty God-speed of those of us whose first military
experiences were intermingled with its history, I was
standing in front of a house selected by the general as
head-quarters-a Secesh house, I regret to add, but its
owner did not seem at all conscientious on the subject
of greenbacks.  Here we messed during our brief
stay, and here the general and one or two of us lodged.
We had lately received an addition to our mess in the
person of an army correspondent, a man who, despite
his name, was any thing but a cipher around an evening camp-fire.
The next day, Sunday, I was again compelled to
ride back to Berlin through almost a solid mass of
men in uniforms, of artillery, and of wagon-trains. It
was useless to attempt to move my train against such
a crowded tide, for miles upon miles of wagons were
drawn out in the fields waiting for a clear road. All 
ONCE MORE INTO VIRGINIA.
day long the hurrying mass moved forward toward
the front, but at night, when the troops were bivouacked, the wagon-trains would have the turnpike to
themselves. So I left my own train to come on at
nightfall and park in Berlin, and rode on ahead, to
pass the night at the house of a pleasant lady, whose
rebel proclivities neither spoiled my supper nor disturbed the comfort of my bedchamber.
I had been compelled to leave a subordinate and a
guard of a dozen men at Bakersville in charge of government property, and right glad was I next morning
to see the little squad marching toward the railway
station. Footsore from their hurried march, they were
equally glad to be relieved of their knapsacks, which
I directed to be carried in the wagons, and in a couple
of hours the wagon-master reported all ready for a
start. But to get within a hundred feet of the bridge
was simply impossible, Berlin being crowded with advancing troops and artillery. Six long hours we
waited for the road to be clear, and it was three o'clock
in the afternoon before the train started. Once fairly
in motion, I rode on ahead as usual, reaching Purcellville about sunset, and here learned that our division
had moved on. As I had ordered my train to park
here for the night, I went to a farm-house and secured
supper and lodging. Many thousand troops were bivouacked all about us, and some of the field officers of
a New Jersey regiment shared with me the evening
meal.
As I sat in the parlor that evening, I discovered
among the books usually found in such places the biography. of Rufqs Choate. A gleam of the Orient,
verily a chapter out of the Arabian Nights, was thus
M2
273 
274   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
flung in upon me at a moment when, tired and dusty
with travel, I needed just such a stimulant. In five
minutes I was in Boston, listening to the soft, sweet,
fascinating tones of that most sympathetic voice, catching a beam or two of the light which sparkled in those
deep-set eyes, magnetized and enthralled by the very
presence of the orator, as he stood flinging ever fresh
enchantment from his elfin locks. Our plain, practical America has thus far produced few men of genius,
though many men of great talents; but this man was
a genius. Hiow such an imagination-Oriental, torrid,
mystic-was ever ingrafted upon his logical, comprehensive New  England understanding  has  always
seemed to me a mystery. Hiis political creed had in
these later years seemed to me all wrong, but this never
affected my feelings toward the man. Never could I
forget how in my student-days he carried me captive,
compelling my affection in the few brief words I ever
exchanged with him, and forcing me to sympathize
with his argument, even though I knew it was on the
wrong side.
The good farmer came in about bedtime with his
hints and suggestions as to sleep, but I asked only
for another candle, agreed to look out for the house,
trimmed the fire, and sat enjoying this book, not critically, but lovingly. A little after midnight the curtain dropped upon the fascinating life-drama, and I
went up stairs, having passed the pleasantest night of
the campaign in the society of Rufus Choate.
Tuesday, November 4h. My train did not come up
until this morning, having been detained in the crush
of wagons, and compelled to go into park some mileg
in the rear. Leaving it to push on as rapidly as pos 
ONCE MORE INTO VIRGINIA.
sible, I rode forward some ten miles to Bloomfield,
getting a good view of the roads winding up through
Snicker's and Ashby's Gaps in the Blue Ridge, and
enjoying greatly the delicious autumn air and the
many-hued foliage of the forests. At about 8 P.M. I
found our head-quarter tents pitched in a pretty spot
near a farm-house, and I was soon at the mess-table.
That night the major of the 76th New York, whose
adventures on the first night of our battle at Bull
Run I have before referred to, came ill to visit us,
having just been exchanged and rejoined his regiment. Among other incidents, he told us that one
of the 76th, also a prisoner, looked a little as if he had
negro blood in his veins, and at once the cry went up
from the rebels, " Hang him! hang him!"  The rope
was actually procured, and nothing but the most
strenuous remonstrances prevented the catastrophe.
At length the officer in charge consented to wait until morning, and during the night the man got mixed
up with the crowd of other prisoners, was paroled, and
sent off during the excitement and confusion caused
by next day's battle.
That night also I enjoyed for the first time the
greatest of all campaign comforts, which I see memorialized in my little diary thus, "SIBLEY STOVES."
The nights had now become so cool that the usual fire
in front of our tents, though pretty to look at, was
rather a delusion in the way of warmth. In our future encampments, five minutes after our tents were
pitched these simple sheet-iron rolls filled them with
a pleasant glow. For these comforts we were indebted to the thoughtfulness of the general, aided by the'
energy of our new quarter-master, a dry humorist, one
275 
276 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
of your men who will almost knock you over with a
joke, looking as solemn the while as a judge when
passing sentence.
My own tent not being pitched when I arrived, I
accepted the invitation of our surgeon, also a late addition to our staff, and a fine specimen of the American gentleman. We had indeed been very fortunate
in the changes incident to a division staff, and I still
felt, when returning after an absence, like one who is
coming home, sure of a hearty welcome.
WVednesday, November 4th. A  march not long, but
tedious, brought us to-day into camp near Rectortown.
Early next morning we again moved forward in a
southerly direction, marching about 9 A. M. through
Salem, a village sitting, like its ancient namesake, on
a hill. A mile or two beyond this spot our march
was incontinently stopped. The scouts had brought
in tidings of-the movement of a force of the enemy in
a direction threatening our right, and our division
was ordered to leave the road and push up toward the
threatened point of attack; so we moved over the
fields and up through an opening in the hills, where
we formed in line of battle. The day was raw, and
the wind had a fair sweep at us as it came rushing
through the hills; but this was the only enemy we
met with. It was soon discovered that the tidings
were incorrect, and the march toward Warrenton was
again resumed.
Warrenton was occupied by our troops without opposition; a rebel force had just left it, and we found
four hundred of the rebel wounded still here. Our
reception this evening was not enthusiastic.  Every
store was closed; hardly a light glimmered in a pri 
ONCE MORE INTO VIRGINIA.
vate residence; the whole town was evidently indulging in a fit of sackcloth and ashes.  The hotel was
of course open, or, rather, its basement-office; but even
that looked black and sullen, and anxious to turn
upon us a very cold shoulder. This marked coolness,
combined with the chilliness of the night air, and a
plentiful lack of food, was not exhilarating. Our division bivouacked at the southern edge of the town,
and, as our wagons were in the rear, we went into a
wayside school-house, doubtless a good enough temple
of learning in its day, but now sans windows, sans
doors, sans every thing like comfort. Even its walls
were ornamented with legends any thing but suggestive of its former uses. One prudent staff officer
brought out a candle or two from his saddle-bags;
another produced a paper of crackers and cheese; a
roaring fire was built in the ample fireplace; and
thus provided with a supper which could not induce
dyspeptic dreams, we waited patiently until midnight
brought up our wagons, and sleeping became possible. A blanket was now hung up as a substitute for
the door, another did duty as window-shutter, and so
we managed, after all, to pick up a. few crumbs of
needed sleep.
277 
278 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XXVI.
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTH.
E  remained in Warrenton four days, during
which period General M'Clellan was relieved
by General Burnside. Our staff tents were pitched
around the school-house, which was still used as a
mess-room; the weather was cold, and quite a heavy
snow-storm gave notice of approaching winter. The
first two days were to me full of anxiety, as there was
no subsistence depot at Warrenton; the railway connection was not completed, and no one seemed to know
positively where or when supplies could be obtained.
I have before expressed my opinion as to the admirable organization and management of the commissary
department; but when the railways are broken up, and
other transportation is limited, it is a Herculean task
to feed a large army. Some military authority has
said, with laconic point, " An army moves on its belly;" and it was clear that unless food was procured
our division would have to pause. And most of the
other divisions were similarly situated.
In the midst of a driving storm, I sent off a subordinate with a wagon-train a mile long, and with a sort
of roving commission among the stations where supplies might be reasonably expected. Great was my
relief when, late at night, after being two days out, he
reported the train coming in with rations for our eight
thousand men for nearly a week. Early next morn 
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTH.
ing the different brigade commissaries were notified,
and in two hours the square acre of stores was distributed, and we were now ready to move.
During our stay I hibernated in my tent, for the air
was cold, and I had much to do. Hearing that an old
Californian acquaintance of mine, a rebel officer of
some distinction, who was wounded at Antietam, was
at home on parole, I called to see him. But he had
left Warrenton when our army reached it, and I was
most courteously received by his wife and family.
That gentleman has lost one son, and been himself
twice desperately wounded in this rebellion, and yet
no allusion was permitted to mar the kindly courtesy
of our interview. I mention this incident because it
sent me home pondering the old question, always suggested to me by the interchange of kindly courtesies
with the Southern people,Why have they forced this
whole nation into war?
I wish I could describe one scene which greatly
charmed me during this stay at Warrenton, the view
of a large camp at night. I was not in the habit of
leaving head-quarters after dark, but on this occasion
desired to visit my good friend "Don Carlos," a captain on the staff of my old brigade.  As I walked
along the ridge occupied by our division, I found myself passing through long avenues of fire, for before
each shelter-tent blazed a pile of hickory logs, each
vying with its neighbor in architectural order and
grandeur of illumination. Around each pyramid of
flame sat the men, engaged in various avocations;
some, of course, cooking, for no camp-fire was ever
without a soldier making coffee, no matter what the hour; some reading or playing cards; the majority
279 
280 THlE BIVOUAC AND THiE BATTLE-FIELD.
simply keeping warm and conversing together. As I
proceeded, I saw the tents of the field and staff hiding
away beneath the foliage, each fronted by a camp-fire,
around which sat a group of officers, while the firelight went leaping up among the trees, lending a weird
appearance to the forms hovering about its glow. The
brigade head-quarter tents were pitched around a hol
low square, lofty trees standing like sentinels at its
corners, while within was a blazing pile in front of
each opened flap, making the quadrangle light as day,
and tropical with warmth. Within the tents the various staff officers were amusing or employing themselves; all of the commonplace was transfigured. This
was tent-life under  is most romantic aspect, and I
paused for some time to enjoy this, to me, novel nightscene.
Very picturesque all this, but when I returned to
my tent and saw my little conical-shaped roll of sheetiron glowing with a welcome, I once more repeated
mentally my old benediction, "Blessings on the man
who invented the Sibley stove."
Very little occurred worthy of record during this
my second visit to Warrenton. Hlere, as in other
places, young men were not, all its male residents, save
old men and little children, being off to the wars, and
the pretty town looked far more wo - begone and
gloomy than on my former visit. Of goods of any
kind, drugs and medicines, and the like, there was absolute dearth, as no communication with Alexandria
had been for some months permitted. To me it was
no longer pleasant to ride through the disconsolate
streets, and I therefore kept very much at home. The
last review by General M'Clellan took place while 
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTI.
here, on which occasion our late commander was
heartily cheered by the troops as he rode down the
lines, and seemed considerably affected at leaving
them.
Tuesday, VNovember 11th. At  11 A.M. our  corps
marched in a direction nearly due south to the town
of Fayetteville, distant seven miles. I did not, however, accompany the march, as we were expecting
every hour the arrival of railway trains of subsistence
stores, and it was desirable to secure as many supplies
as possible before moving. Several other officers remained with me, and, about 4 P.M., having passed the
day at the railway station in rain, we went up to the
pleasant residence of a lady, and sat down to an excellent dinner bespoken by one of our number. Despite the poverty of the land, the mahogany was well
covered, and a merrier party has rarely surrounded it.
The lady of the house was decidedly Secesh, and the
conversation flowed naturally into dangerous channels. She was confident of the ultimate success of the
rebellion, but remarked not long after that they were
trying to sell their place and move North.
"Oh yes," said one of our party; "you think the
plank is going to break in the middle, and don't mean
to be on that half which falls overboard." A quiet
laugh around the board was followed by an impetuous protest that she could not see it in that light. She
was not the first respectable Virginian whom I have
met who feels bound to talk strongly for the South,
and is yet plotting and planning desperately to get
out of it.
Our excellent dinner had only sufficient earnestnessof converse to flavor it withal, and we were so much
281 
282   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
pleased wit2i oar hostess teat, atecr In the day, finding
we must remain in Warrenton all night, we engaged
lodgings under her roof.  I think no one of that party
but looks back at this evening around a home fireside
as one of the pleasantest experiences in Virginia.
The next day the railway trains arrived, and we
rode out to Fayetteville, all of which town I saw except the houses. I remember this as the prettiest
camp of the campaign, and here we passed four days,
during which I made another business visit to Warrenton. Cannonading was occasionally heard in the
direction of the Rappahannock; every hour we expected orders to move; but the hoof-disease had broken out among the horses, and it was necessary to replace many of them with fresh stock. The men had
delightfully-situated bivouacs, and from my tent I
could look out at evening upon continuous lines of
camp-fires covering the ground for acres. Some of
the oldsters of the staff had now fallen into the pleasant custom of playing a few games of whist before retiring for the night. There seemed to be a general
understanding, as the weather grew more wintry, that
there would not be much more marching or fighting
at present, and that the true philosophy was to make
ourselves comfortable. It takes a man about six
months really to learn how to accept with entire equanimity the frequent changes and disappointments in
campaign life, and to enjoy it properly as he moves
along.
Nonday, Yovermber 17th. A pleasant morning after
yesterday's storm! Bright and early came down our
tents, breakfast was dispatched, and the general an&
staff mounted and led off the division. Having sent 
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTH.
a train to Warrenton Junction the day before with orders to meet us at Bealeton, I rode ahead with two
knights of the quill, Argus-eyed, and ever on the
watch for items. and much I enjoyed their company
and the lovely bits of scenery, and the fresh morning
air. AVe had not ridden far before we caught up with
the other divisions of our corps drawing out into the
road, and at Bealeton I found my train, which had just
arrived. Relieved on that head, I dismounted, seated
myself on a cracker-box at a camp-fire deserted by the
second division, and waited a couple of hours for our
division to come up. Our march was slow and uneventful, and we were glad at 5 P.M. to fling ourselves
from the saddle at the house of a gentleman which had
been taken for head-quarters. It was quite dark before the tired troops reached their camping-ground,
where our adjutant general, never weary in the performance of duty, remained to see each brigade comfortably located.  Our wagons then came slowly on
through the mud, our tents were pitched by the light
of lanterns, our horses quartered in the capacious barn,
and supper, which we had engaged in the house, was
ready.
It almost repays a man for going without his dinner, and passing the day on a tedious and chilly
march, the sense of comfort which steals over him
when, seated at a well-filled table near a cheerful fire,
he feels that he has earned the right to a few hours
rest. Our host was a man of far more than average
intelligence and shrewdness, and during the evening
and next morning I enjoyed some free conversation
with him. iHe commenced, of course, with the stereotyped Virginian formula, " I was strong for the Union,
283 
284   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
but when my state went out I had to go with her;"
but he was well read, had a good deal of reasoning
power, and had evidently pondered upon this subject,
and as he was also frank and anxious to reason fairly,
we soon brushed all extraneous questions away, and
came down to the question of slavery.
I may add that to this question of slavery every intelligent and candid Southerner always reverts in
speaking of the rebellion, all other pleas being considered merely side-issues. Doubtless many in Virginia,
as I have before remarked, persuade themselves that
it is for the doctrine of state rights they are contending, and for the honor of their native state "invaded"
by Northern myrmidons; but when an earnest and
candid man seeks to go to the root of the matter, he
always brings you down to the question of slavery.
Of course I do not propose to transcribe this conversation. In the course of it, however, I quoted
some of the well-known results of our census statistics
as indicating the difference, in all the elements of progress, between the free states and Virginia; but he
knew more about these figures than I did, and at once
admitted frankly, as I have heard many other Southerners admit before him, that slavery was a curse to
the white man and a curse to his state.
"Why, then," said I, "are you so anxious to sustain it?"
"Because emancipation would be ruin and destruction to our slaves. Poor creatures, they are left on
our hands, and never could take care of themselves;
it would be cruel to turn them off."
"Well, it must be admitted that you Virginians are
the most Quixotically benevolent people I ever met 
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTH.
with; to the negro you are willing to sacrifice your
state and yourselves. Certainly, if I were so philanthropic and such a negro-worshiper as you are, I also
would be a slaveholder."
My host couldn't help laughing at this reductio ad
absurdurn, and at once changed his position. Hiis
plea, though so weak, is very common among slaveholders, who, unable to wink out of sight the facts
of the census tables, try to ease their consciences by
the belief that they are unadulterated philanthropists,
suffering all these evils of slavery for the good of the
slave.  Accustomed to fling the title of "nigger worshiper" into the teeth of the Northman, it somewhat
puzzles them to find it fixed so clearly on themselves.
It struck me, through the whole conversation, that my
host probably felt more doubts as to his position than
he cared to admit to a man wearing the federal uniform.
Tuesday, November 18th. Still on the march, the day
being rainy and the roads becoming more difficult of
passage, to reach about dusk a camping-spot on the
Stafford Court-house road, having moved some eight
miles. The general selected a farm-house for his
head-quarters, much to the joy of the occupant, who
knew that this secured him at least partial protection
for his cattle, sheep, and other movables. He had a
piteous tale to tell of his losses, and was one of those
whining, inefficient do-littles who keep a few negroes
to do their work, bring up a family of drones like
themselves, and pass most of their time in smoking a
pipe or shaking with the fever and ague. The slaves
looked sleek and comfortable, and really more respectable than their master, and we were told that
285 
286   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
one by one they were setting off on the Northern
tour.
The next morning it again rained hard, and the
roads became well-nigh impassable. I was now quite
unwell, and remained as long as possible with our
last night's host after the division had marched. As
I sat by the fire, feeling weak and miserable, constantly occupied in futile efforts to convince the members
of this family that one use of outside doors was to
shut them, I became practically aware to what perils
a wayside farmer is exposed during the march of
troops.  Behind the main body, wherein discipline
exercises at least partial restraint, linger the squads
of stragglers, and, aided by the army teamsters, they
scour the country far and near. The proprietor of
the house became quite frantic this morning as these
locusts in uniform settled down upon his possessions,
and made such strong appeals to me that I remained
with him for several hours. Once I put a stop to a
horse-trade, much to the chagrin of some cavalry-men;
at another moment I halted a fellow as he was riding
off on the farmer's only saddle; while of provost duty
in the matter of chickens, sheep, and oats I had my
hands full.
I had no objection to protecting the poor man all
in my power, but this paddling to and from his barn
in the midst of the driving rain was hardly the thing
for my illness. My wagon-train had not moved, so
slow was the advance of the troops; but I at length
tore myself away, having secured for him a temporary
guard. After wading through the deep mud for five
miles, I found our corps encamped at the sides of 
marsh a few miles from Falmouth. The general and 
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTI.
staff stood upon a hill-side waiting for our wagons.
About two hours after they were discovered plowing
through the marsh; forty stout fellows, with long
ropes, aided the tired horses; our servants and the
division guard soon had our canvas houses erected,
and one tired and miserable campaigner went immediately to bed.
Over the two days spent in this slough of despond,
during which the rain overflowed the shelter-tents of
the men, driving them into the woods, and ran over
the trenches of our staff tents, saturating their floors
with moisture, and defying even the Sibley stove;
days in which, being fairly under the care of my
friend the surgeon, I kept my tent, to enjoy without
interruption his medicines-verily the two gloomiest
days of the campaign- I should prefer to draw a
veil. To be moderately sick at home I consider rather a luxury; to be sick in a mud-puddle, covered by
canvas, is simply horrible.
On Saturday, the 22d, we moved five miles, and encamped at the side of the railroad between Aquia and
Falmouth, a pleasant situation, and prettily located
camp. Every one was of course full of disappointment at the failure of the pontoons, over which it had
been intended that we should cross the Rappahannock. Who was to blame we knew not. It was
only another stanza of the old refrain, " Some one had
blundered." A few days ago, and a single division
might have occupied Fredericksburg and its heights.
Now it was understood that the whole rebel army,
which had been dogging our footsteps ever since we
left Maryland, was occupying and fortifying the fords
and the surrounding heights. With all our confidence
287 
288 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
in General Burnside, it was evident that his position in
a strategic point of view was an unfortunate one.
Very pleasant are my remembrances of our sixteen
days passed in camp near the railroad. Concluding
that the Fates were against us, and that the failure of
the pontoons had put a stop to any more Richmondward for the present, it was, by mutual consent, agreed
to accept the fact of winter-quarters, and to make the
best of it. A room in a neighboring house was engaged for a mess-room, and our caterer was spurred
up to his best efforts, our tents were fitted up with additional comforts, and every effort made to bear with
cheerful philosophy what seemed an inevitable delay.
Frequent rides to Aquia Creek, or over to Falmouth
to have a look at the rebel pickets lining the river, and
at the fortifications daily going up behind the city; a
review by General Hooker of his corps, which impressed me more than any review I ever witnessed,
from the number of bullet-pierced flags, and the wellknown fighting fame of the reviewing general and
many of the regiments; a visit to all the old spots so
familiar when we occupied the "Camp opposite Fredericksburg"-these, with other excursions, varied the
routine of staff duty and the monotony of camp life,
and brought us to the mess-table with good appetites
and cheerful minds.
During the last day or two of this period the movements of the pontoon trains began to look a little suspicious.  A pontoon train is usually composed of some
forty-eight narrow, flat-bottomed boats, thirty feet in
length, set upon wheels and drawn by eight horses.
With each boat are the necessary girders and planks
for the construction of a bridge, and the different trains 
WARRENTON TO FALMOUTH.
are under the immediate charge of two regiments of
engineers.
The usual orders as to three days' rations, additional
ammunition, etc., also came in, and at length, on the
evening of Monday, December 8th, orders to move on
the morrow toward the river reached us. At 10 A M.
on Tuesday our division was in motion, crossed Potomac Creek, and bivouacked in the woods south of it,
our own tents being pitched among the trees in a spot
cleared for them by the pioneers. Our own general
was absent in Washington, and the division was under
the command of the senior brigadier.
WVednesday; December 10th. At 9 A.M. we struck
tents, but moved only a couple of miles, bivouacking
near White Oak Church.  Our orders were to march
at two o'clock to-morrow morning, and it was understood that we were then to attempt the passage of the
river. VWe got up two or three staff tents, however,
and the men made themselves as comfortable as if permanently located. We were right in the midst of the
woods; one of the brigades was bivouacked within
twenty feet of my tent door, and I watched with very
deep interest the movements of these brave fellowsthe veterans of half a dozen fiercely-contested battles
-to see if any shadow of the impending conflict obtruded itself; but I remarked no change in their usual
manner. It was evident, however, that they were well
aware of the serious business before them, as their
cheerful remarks ran usually in one channel. Systematically they put up their shelter-tents, built their
fires, and cooked their suppers, and very early in the
evening all was still through this immense camp save 
the sentinels pacing their usual rounds.
N
289 
290  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
Every one was busy during the afternoon at headquarters in writing letters and making the necessary
preparations, and after an early supper all retired to
bed. About midnight I was awakened by our general, who had just arrived from Washington, and was
groping his way among the tent-ropes, and greatly did
his well-known voice rejoice us, as we had feared he
would arrive too late to lead the division in the coming struggle. We were all speedily assembled in the
office-tent, where a hearty breakfast or supper was
soon served up; the different brigades were already
falling in, and by 4 A.M. the whole column was in
motion. The division, however, did not attempt the
passage to-day, but was halted within a mile or two
of the river, where the men stacked arms and awaited
orders. Meantime the attempt to lay the pontoon
bridges across the Rappahannock in face of the enemy had begun, and some account of this desperate undertaking will fitly occupy the next chapter. 
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANNOCK.  291
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANNOCK.
HURSDAY, December 11th. Our entire army was
now filling the woods and fields skirting the Rappahannock, and stood grimly face to face with the enemy. But the river must be crossed before the desperate storming of the Fredericksburg Heights was
possible, and the laying the pontoon bridges was the
first thing in order.
Our own, the 1st corps, under command of General
Reynolds, and the 6th, under General Smith, constituted the left grand division, commanded by General
Franklin, and the spot selected for its crossing was
some three miles below the city, where, beyond the
rather steep bank, spread out a broad plain toward the
rebel heights. Hiere early in the day the pontoons
were brought down to the river's brink, and while our
leading brigades looked on with almost breathless suspense, and the long line of our gunners on the heights
overlooking the river stood ready to open fire at the
least hostile demonstration, the laying of the two
bridges was at once commenced-the one by the 15th
New York Engineers, and the other by the United
States Engineers. The work is simple enough, but I
can conceive of no duty demanding more true courage. In the charge even of a forlorn hope, every man,
as he grasps his musket, is fired by the common enthusiasmin, lifted on the wave of a common excitement, 
292   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
feels to the tips of his finger-ends the martial inspiration; but this duty had in itself no warlike incitement-none of the fervid intoxication of a desperate
charge; these men were for the nonce not warriors,
but bridge-builders, grasping not the musket, but the
hammer; not borne forward in a rush of excited valor,
but penned up ill narrow boats, from which neither
advance nor retreat was possible. Every plank they
laid brought them, living targets, closer and closer to
the rebel sharpshooters, now coolly sighting each his
man from the rifle-pits on the other side.
But there was no hesitation. The boats were floated out into the stream; each in turn was brought into
place; coolly and systematically the engineers united
it to the rest with girders, upon which, one by one,
they laid down the plank. Nearer and nearer to the
opposite bank grow the floating causeways; already
they are more than half way across; the anxious thousands watching so eagerly the operation are already
beginning to breathe more freely; the silence and suspense are awful, when suddenly a line of fire fringes
the rebel rifle-pits, and volley after volley from the
rebel sharpshooters is poured upon the courageous
workmen. Some are wounded; all fall at once into
the bottom of their pontoons, where they are partially
protected; and now our artillery posted on the heights
sweeps the opposite plain with grape and canister.
These terrific discharges soon make every rifle-pit too
hot for its occupants, and finally drive every rebel out
of his hiding-place. Once more the heroic workmen
resume their task of peril, the last boat is floated to its
place, the last girder spans from boat to shore; and es
the foremost engineer leaps upon the bank, one long, 
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANNOCK.  293
loud, enthusiastic cheer relieves the pent-up excitement of ten thousand spectators, and renders to these
brave men the homage of their applauding comrades.
Farther up the river, and just opposite the citythe point at which General Sumner's right grand division was to cross-our engineers were not so fortunate. Very early in the morning the leading divisions
were marched down as near the crossing-place as possible, where they rested on their arms, the pontoons
were floated out, and the engineers sprang to their
work. The same silence and suspense brooded over
the river; boat after boat was brought into place; the
engineers were within twenty feet of the opposite
bank, when suddenly, at the report of a single rebel
cannon-the death-signal to some of our heroic volunteers-the rebel sharpshooters, posted in the rifle-pits
and houses at the river's brink, swept the unfinished
bridge with their rifles, and three officers and twenty
men fell killed and wounded before their murderous
fire. To continue the work in the face of this continuous storm of bullets became simply impossible.
Then from more than a hundred guns of various
calibre poured for hours a deluge of shot and shell
upon the doomed city, especially upon the houses near
the bank which protected the enemy's sharpshooters.
Some have estimated that five hundred shells in a single minute were hurled from these miles of batteries.
I had ridden over to our old Phillips's House headquarters, now occupied by General Sumner, and selected as his own post of observation by General Burnside, and stood watching with a hundred other officers
this terrific bombardment. In rear of the house were
troops, massed in solid acres, awaiting the orders to 
294   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
cross; the steps and slopes in front swarmed with generals and staff officers; every face had a waiting look
of anxiety, while every eye sought to pierce the foggy
cloud now resting upon Fredericksburg. All the
while the rebel batteries, save that solitary death-signal just referred to, had not given tongue. The air
was full of the smoke-wreaths of shell bursting over
the town, and two or three perpendicular columns of
smoke rising above the fog indicated the site of some
of the burning houses.
As I stood here, an artillery caisson passed by with
a poor fellow crimsoned with gore and held up in the
arms of two others. What was my surprise when I
saw the white face turn wistfully toward mine, while
a low voice groaned out my name. In an instant I
was at his side, recognizing him with difficulty as one
of our orderlies. HIe had preceded the division with
a companion on a private reconnoissance toward the
river bank, and both had been severely wounded by
the premature explosion of one of our own shells. A
surgeon was soon found, and the stretcher-bearers bore
the wounded man down into the glen to the right of
the Phillips House, where some hospital-tents were already pitched, and where, safely out of range of the
rebel batteries, long streets of these temporary houses
of refuge were quickly going up. I found the surgeons in charge ready and willing to do all in their
power; Chloroform was administered, and in twenty
minutes John, minus an arm, was lying in a clean bed
and feeling quite comfortable, and I left him to go
down to the bank of the river in search of his comrade. As I rode back through the glen, already the
sad procession of ambulances had begun, and I paused 
TiE PASSAGE OF TiE RAPPAHANNOCK.  295
a moment to gaze at the poor fellows as they were
lifted out ax4 carried into the canvas hospitals —heroes every one of them, for they had been wounded in
the desperate efforts, as yet unsuccessful, to lay the
upper pontoon bridge.
It was now about noon; the fog had lifted, and the
city was distinctly visible, showing at this distance
but few battle-scars, though I saw rising from several
houses columns of smoke and flame. There had been
for some time a lull in the bombardment; the rebel
batteries during the while had remained obstinately
silent, but the rebel sharpshooters were not yet dislodged, and every attempt to finish the bridge had
been defeated by their murderous fire.
John had described the locality of his accident as
well as he could collect his thoughts to describe any
thing, but my search up and down the river bank
proved unavailing, and it afterward appeared that the
other wounded attach6 of our staff had been taken to
a hospital, where he lost his leg. Both, however, recovered from their severe wounds.
Rumors of every conceivable description filled the
air, and I finally had to ride down about 3 P.M. and
take a look at the pontoon bridge for myself. It was
then more than two thirds completed, but no effort
was apparently being made to continue it; the batteries were silent; for a moment all was quiet on the
Rappahannock. I saw a person at the open window
of one of the houses waving a white handkerchief,
probably intended as a notice to our gunners that he
desired to be considered as claiming exemption from
their rather pressing attentions by virtue of this flagof truce. The man certainly deserved consideration 
296   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
for the novelty of his idea, and the bravery with
which he carried it out. 
Hardly had I returned to my former post of observation when with renewed violence burst forth the
storm of war, and it was under cover of this last bombardment that the movement began, by the aid of
which the pontoon bridge was at length completed.
It had become evident that the rebel riflemen could
not be dislodged from their hiding-places by artillery,
and men were now needed who would cross in the
pontoons and drive them out at the point of the bayonet. The call is for volunteers. Hundreds at once
step to the front, men of Michigan and Massachusetts,
for to regiments of these states has been given the perilous honor of leading the way into Fredericksburg,
and for hours they have been waiting near the bank
for the completion of the bridge; one hundred only
can be selected, lest the boats be overcrowded; hurriedly they leap in; one youngster, Robert Hendershot, drummer-boy of the 8th Michigan, made of heroic stuff, forcing his way in among the rest, and so
making his name and fame historical.
And now, boys! brothers! heroes! give way!  Ten
thousand faces pale with intense excitement look down
upon you; ten thousand anxious hearts hang upon
every stroke of your oars. It may be that the future
destiny of that country you love so well depends upon
the issue of this hour's business. With desperate
strength the boats are speeding on their dangerous errand. In vain the rebel sharpshooters seek to check
their progress; the shore is gained; with loud cheers
our heroes rush up the bank, charge with the cold
steel upon houses and rifle-pits, capture fifty prison 
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANOCK.  297
ers, and put the whole rebel gang hors de combat, with
wounds more or less severe, or send them flying toward the rear. Five minutes of this bloody work
does the business, and they are soon recrossing with
their captives, having met with small loss, to be received by wild and tumultuous cheers and congratulations. Hardly have these cheers died away before
the bridge is finished, and at double-quick our impatient volunteers are crossing to secure and hold it.
Nearly at the same period, by a sudden and gallant
dash, the 87th Pennsylvania threw another pontoon
bridge across a little below this, and now four floating
ways span the Rappahannock, and afford free passage
to the rebel lair.
Why has not every man who distinguished himself
in this passage of the Rappahannock received ere this
some decoration of honor, to be worn proudly on his
heart while living, to be handed down as a precious
heir-loom when he has departed? Why, at least, is
not his name published in some roll of honor, as a reward to him and an encouragement to others? Can
we afford to neglect those appeals to an honest pride
and an honorable ambition which Napoleon and every other great captain have found so valuable? I
consider that every man who steadfastly aided in laying those pontoon bridges, or who crossed in those
boats in face of the concealed enemy, was a hero, and
is fairly entitled to a hero's reward.
General Howard's division at once commenced to
cross, and his third brigade, under command of Colonel Hall, and consisting of the 7th Michigan, 19th and
20th Massachusetts, and 59th New York, led the wax
across the bridge and through the streets of the city.
N2 
298  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
In this street-fighting the brigade lost about one hundred in killed and wounded, among them the heroic
Chaplain Fuller, who seized a musket and led on into
the fight the men for whose welfare he had so zealously labored and prayed. One hears some bitter things
said in the army about chaplains, but were they all
true, the life and death of such men as Fuller and Conant, and others of similar stamp, would more than
counterbalance them.
Having obtained full possession of the lower streets,
General Howard's division bivouacked in the city for
the night. About the same time General Newton's division, led by General Devens's brigade, rushed across
the pontoon bridges assigned to the left grand division, moved at double-quick up the steep bank, and at
once deployed as skirmishers, and began to force back
the rebel sharpshooters. The latter fell back briskly
as the remainder of Newton's division crossed, and our
men were soon drawn up in line of battle on the plain.
HIere they remained for some time, but, for some reason, it was deemed best to leave no troops on the right
bank for the night; the division was withdrawn, and
bivouacked near the river, in readiness to cross on the
morrow.
Our own head-quarters were in the woods by the
roadside, perhaps a mile and a half from the lower
bridges, and here we cleared away space enough for
some tents. A cheerful camp-fire was built, and as
we sat around it many and various were the speculations as to our own movements and the intentions of
the enemy. All were in excellent spirits, but I felt
ill at ease, for the general had just directed me to re —
main on this side and attend to my own department, 
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANNIOCK.  299
and, though never less anxious to go into battle, I could
not help feeling a little regret that my comrades were
to go in without me. They brought me their money,
with letters and messages for home, and the whole affair was to me very dismal. As they were to be in
the saddle with the early dawn, we separated early for
bed.
Friday, December 12th. Shortly after sunrise the general and staff rode off at the head of the division, leaving our quarter-master and myself in possession of
head-quarters. In a couple of hours the fields about
us were deserted by all but the wagon-trains and the
tents of the quarter-masters and commissaries of our
different brigades.
After an hour or two of necessary duty, I mounted
my horse and rode over toward General Sumner's
head-quarters. Every road leading to the river was
crowded with troops of the right and left grand divisions, while the centre, under General Hooker, which
was to be held in reserve, remained under arms, ready
to move at a moment's notice wherever their services
were most needed, but did not cross until the morrow.
Our batteries still lined the bank, but rested a while
from yesterday's labors, while the city and all the rebel
fortifications were hidden from view by a thick veil
of fog.
I could not resist the desire to ride once more
through the familiar streets of Fredericksburg, and
was especially curious to see the result of yesterday's
bombardment. A brother officer joined me, and we
were soon in the current sweeping down to the river.
As we crossed the pontoon bridge which had cost
such an expenditure of blood and patriotism, every 
300   TIIE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
pontoon, with its frequent bullet-marks and splintered
sides, eloquently attested the perils of bridge-building
under fire.
The lower streets, through nearly their entire length,
were crowded with troops, now standing at ease, and
leaving only a narrow passage-way in the centre for
horsemen. Most of the men maintained a proper military decorum, and did not leave their colors; but I
saw numbers enjoying a thorough ransack of a few of
the houses, bringing therefrom measures of flour and
meal, eatables of every description, with some other
articles of a heterogeneous description. Soldiers have
sometimes queer ideas in these respects. I have heard
of one who, having found somewhere a volume of
Congressional documents, bore the weighty, bulky
book around with him in his knapsack for several
days, until they seemed heavier to him than they even
do to the man who attempts to read them. I saw one
fellow to-day rejoicing in a huge stuffed monkey, an
absurdity so great that I halted him to learn its history. Of course "another soldier gave it to him;"
while to my question as to how he intended to transport his monkeyship, he replied practically by slinging it over his shoulder as a counterbalance to his
shelter-tent. Whether he stormed the heights with
the creature on his back I have never learned.
One man walked demurely along decorated with a
woman's bonnet, while another wore a beaver hat,
which seemed almost as incongruous. The humorous
element, not the rage for plunder, was evidently predominant; and of all that army I did not see one
hundred engaged in pillage, and nearly all these were
content to remove eatables alone. Numbers had box 
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANNOCK.  301
es, half boxes, and smaller parcels of tobacco, but, as
this had been fished from the river, it was legitimate
prize of war. And it is my belief, judging from personal observation, that the accounts in the papers of
the wholesale pillaging of our troops were an exaggeration. I am no apologist for this military misdemeanor, and have the strongest aversion to private
pillage; still, it is not fair that our whole army should
suffer for the errors of a few. If any one has imagined that our troops, immediately on crossing, broke
ranks and commenced to pillage and destroy, he greatly mistakes the general deportment of our volunteers.
As the long lines of men picture themselves in my
memory to-day, I see them mainly serious and determined, leaning on their guns, evidently thinking of the
work before them, and not of a little private pillage.
And I desire also to say, after my campaign experiences, that our American army, if we may believe history, is less liable to the charge of pillage than any
large army ever before organized.
One would naturally expect, after the battle of yesterday, to see a city of ruins, hardly a brick wall standing, hardly one stone remaining on another; but, to
iy great surprise, that iron storm had made comparatively little outward impression. The row of inferior
houses immediately on the river's brink, which had
been the rebel hiding-places, were, of course, riddled
and torn with shot and shell; perhaps twenty buildings
in all were destroyed by fire. Many of the churches
and residences were decorated with one or more shotholes, while a few were considerably torn by bursting shell; but a large majority of the buildings had
not suffered at all. The gaping ruins and dismantled 
302 THE BIVOUAC AND THE B-iTTLE-FIELD.
dwellings I had expected to see were not visible, and
as I rode through the upper streets where the soldiers
were not drawn up, the old sleepy town looked very
much as before. We saw quite a number of the citizens, of different colors, who had remained in their
cellars during the bombardment, and it was a touching sight to see some of the women, still half frenzied
with their late excitement, as they dragged themselves
and their little ones down to the bridges, anxious only
to escape the scene of so much terror.
I always felt an interest in the mansion wherein we
passed our first night in Fredericksburg, and was glad
to find that it bore no evidence of damage. A row
of superannuated contrabands stood leaning over the
fence, the last remnant of their tribe, and from them I
learned the history of two or three persons in whom I
felt some interest. Nearly all the residents had fled
to the mountains or to Richmond.
We were now two or three streets above our troops,
but saw here and there an occasional soldier, and were
riding leisurely up street, thinking all was safe, when
one of our pickets remarked to me, " Captain, if you
don't want to be shot, you'd better not go any farther.
The rebel sharpshooters are just above us." As we
were now nearly at the edge of the town, we thanked
him, and concluded to pursue our investigations in another direction.
After visiting other parts of the town, to be every
where struck with the little damage done by our bombardment, we rode once more through our troops, still
standing at ease in the lower streets, recrossed the
bridge, and again ascended to the elevation near the
Phillips House as, on the whole, the best post of obser
L
Fl-' 
THE PASSAGE OF THE RAPPAHANNOCK.  303
vation. Many officers were here, seeking, like myself,
to pierce the fog resting upon the rebel intrenchments,
but in vain. All was still; the passage of the river
seemed to be the only work for to-day, and it was time
for me to be back to camp.
An hour or two later, hearing the booming of cannon, I left my tent and rode down to the river bank.
The fog had at last lifted, and the rebels were amusing
themselves by throwing a few shells into the city, and
exchanging compliments with two or three of our batteries; but the day passed with nothing more exciting
than these occasional artillery duels, the infantry on
each side being passive, and so in anxious suspense
we awaited the coming morrow.
-1 
304   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
ATURDAY, December 13th. I awoke this morning
with the same feeling of intense and anxious expectation which had sent me early to bed last night;
and, with my friend the quarter - master, hurried
through breakfast, attended to my necessary duties,
and then visited the commissariats of the different
brigades. It was perhaps ten o'clock before I was
ready to ride over to a point on the bluff bordering
the river, where our batteries were posted, which, without being too far from camp, commanded a fine view
of the rebel fortifications, and of the plain back of the
city.  Here, with the exception of occasional visits to
camp to learn if any orders had been sent over, I remained for the greater part of this most exciting day,
in company with a large party of staff officers, whose
duties detained them on this side the river.
Shortly after we reached this look-out, the fog had
lifted sufficiently to afford a complete view of the
arena whereon Sumner's right, now quietly occupying
the city, were to enter the lists against a concealed and
fortified enemy. It is a gradually ascending plain, lying back of Fredericksburg, with many inequalities of
surface, and bounded by a line of heights, more elevated as they recede, which not only overlook the
plain, but by a sweep toward the river on the rebel
left, flank it also. As I looked toward this extreme 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
left through a field-glass, I saw the rebels still busily
engaged in putting up fresh earthworks, and it was
evident that they intended to use the spade until it
was absolutely necessary to take up the rifle. Near
the turnpike I saw also, glistening in the sun, the
pieces of a brass battery, planted so as to enfilade this
plain, and cut down any advancing column.
With our field-glasses we could not discern the numerous batteries which crowned the heights for several miles, but some of the rebel forts and embrasures
were distinctly visible. One fort, especially, on a low
elevation just back of the city, seemed to command
the plain perfectly, and here, protected by earthworks,
were the guns of the Washington Artillery, a famous
rebel battalion. Just at its base, and connecting with
the turnpike, ran a narrow country road, skirted by a
low stone wall, looking quite insignificant. We shall
know more about this stone wall anon.
Over this plain, thus fronted and flanked by hostile
batteries, and line upon line of infantry, must move to
the storming of those fortifications the forlorn hope
of Sumner's right grand division. The morning was
one of the loveliest of the year; the city, the plain,
and the rebel heights slept silently in the pleasant
sunshine; only an occasional smoke-puff above the
trees, followed by the deep boom of a heavy gun,
would remind the casual observer of the dread reality
of war. But none of this present group of spectators
needed any such a reminder; an awful sense of deep
and anxious expectancy weighed upon every heart,
and we talked together as men might talk upon the
brink of some great peril.  I can truly say that never
among my limited experiences, whether during the
305 
306   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
entrance into battle or in the shock of the contest,
have I suffered any such feelings as oppressed me
during these fearful days of suspense, especially during the brief hour of calm of this very morning.
About noon, as I kept my eyes riveted upon the
plain, I saw a long black line coming into view from
behind the houses in the rear of the city, and advancing steadily toward the enemy's works. This is General French's division, which has moved in solid column up the streets, deployed in line of battle, and
now, preceded by skirmishers, marches bravely up to
the assault. Not far behind them shortly appears another thin black line, Hancock's division I have since
learned, while Hloward's division, being held for the
present in reserve, is not yet visible. One must look
earnestly, or he will almost fail to distinguish these
two lines; at this distance it seems impossible that
this is the force which is to attempt to throttle the foe
in his own den. And yet yonder they move, on, on,
unmolested, as if the rebels, awe-struck and fascinated
like ourselves, have forgotten the very use of their artillery. Already they are half way across the plain;
we are actually beginning to breathe more freely,
when, as if at a given signal, from the fortified plateau,
from the enfilading batteries on the left, from invisible
artillery on the right and front, pours down a continuous hurtling tempest of shot and shell. With strained eyes we see our brave boys pause, the gaps in their
lines are distinctly visible, their ranks quiver, many
a poor fellow lies down wounded or dying, while some
hurry back to the rear. And now the spot whereon
we stand, and all along the bank above and below uTs,
trembles with the thunder of artillery, for our eager
4 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
gunners have sighted their guns, and now fling back
at the rebel batteries a responsive tempest, which may
perhaps silence or divert their fire. But these rebels
know too much to waste ammunition upon our distant
batteries; a few shot go shrieking over our heads into
the field beyond, some indeed striking so near as to
cause a little excitement among those under fire for
the first time; but nearly the whole rebel fire, every
shot of it, is concentrated as upon one focus, on that
forlorn hope, now so exposed to the pitiless storm
upon that unprotected plain.
And these Northern heroes are worthy of the occasion. Of course there are some cowards who fly to
the rear, but the ranks of the brave close up their
gaps, and once more they advance to the front. Every
thunderbolt of rebel wrath is launched with merciless
skill on their devoted heads. Forward, however, is
the word; but how thin grows their line; how clear
is it that, if they persist in advancing, they will reach
the foot of the hills with only a handful of men.
Shot down by tens and by fifties, what can they do
but bend beneath the storm, and finally melt away
before it, and so, with broken ranks, to the rear.
A few minutes pause, and now for the second act
of the drama, as a second long black line moves out
upon the plain, again to advance midway, again to be
mowed down by that whirlwind of fire. Is it not
awful to sit here and see our heroes thus done to death
by those invisible guns, to sit here unable' to help
them, unable also to take our eyes from the terrible
picture! This time, thank God! they seem to hold
their own; this time the gaps torn through theirranks are rapidly closed up; they are two thirds of
307 
308   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the way across the plain; the awful storm which
howls about them may destroy, but it can not stop
them.  Once under that hill, with its plateau covered
with earthworks, which now vomits smoke and fire,
and they will be somewhat out of range, somewhat
sheltered from the rebel batteries. Ah! how earnestly I have been watching the effect of the shot after
shot hurled by the battery just in front of me seemingly into the very embrasures of that Washington
Artillery. Several times I have seen the dust fly up
apparently among their guns; but they hardly notice
us, continuing to rain down grape and canister upon
the heads of the advancing infantry.
Expressions of joy, and thanksgiving, and congratulation are thrilling through our circle of spectators,
for now our attacking line, thinned but firmly advancing, is within a few hundred feet of the foot of the
hill, and here these death-dealing batteries will be
shorn of half their power. Five minutes more, and
the worst will be over; then for the desperate bayonet charge up the heights, and the attack on the fortifications. But under that hill is the stone wall already
referred to, and just as the heartfelt prayer of gratitude to the good God is thrilling through the soul,
that stone wall seems actually fringed with fire.
Every foot of it conceals a rebel sharpshooter safely
protected, and able to select his living target and take
deliberate aim. God help our poor boys now. Their
only safety is to rush desperately on, with no pause
to answer the enemy's volleys, on to the stone wall,
trusting to cold steel alone, or every man of themn is
lost. Out on that plain, just in the vortex of that hel4
of flame, enfiladed by batteries, within point-blank 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
range of that mile of rebel rifles, nothing but a desperate charge can save them, nothing but the bayonet
do the needed work!
But see! are they not pausing-halting-actually
halting to deliver a volley-a volley against earthworks and stone walls, not a bullet of which will harm
the hair on a traitor's head?  Alas! it is even so, and,
of course, a retreat becomes inevitable. The opportunity for a dash is lost, and five minutes of exposure
like this will not leave a man to tell the story. Already many a heroic soul has gone back to God, lifted
on the red wing of battle; already many a wounded
P,o?rot b]2ti6zes Yijg]i#]i     limt 2iS 0oo0d, ite bro/ceY
remnant must fall back or perish. But even this falling back is in good order. Not in disorderly rout,
but with hot faces still ever and anon turning defiantly at the earthworks and stone wall which have been
their worst enemies to-day, they retire perhaps half
way across the plain, where, in a ravine affording partial protection from the artillery, they halt, close up,
and remain firmly all day.
A little to the left of this main attack I noticed another body of men, who had advanced through a ravine which partially concealed their movements, and
who held a somewhat isolated hillock more than half
way across the plain, on which was a house and some
farm-buildings. Only after careful scrutiny with the
glass did we finally decide that the flags flaunting
over these troops were really our own stars and stripes.
I afterward learned that this was the division of General Sturgis. They had one battery with them, and
remained at this point all day, flinging at least disdain into the teeth of the rebels.
309 
310   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
And this, as I understand it, is about the whole of the
sad story of the attack on the rebel centre. We had
won a position half way across the plain, but thousands
of our bravest soldiers had been killed or wounded;
not a rebel battery was silenced, not a single earthwork carried. Behold an epitome of this day's disaster. The artillery on our side the river still kept
up the semblance of war; a few rebel missiles howled
insultingly over our heads; but toward evening all
this ceased; fresh divisions of General Hooker's reserve were sent out to relieve the troops in front, and
the battle was over. We had absolutely gained almost nothing, and had made fearful sacrifice.
Yes, one thing we had gained, and that was the
proud assurance, which must have thrilled the bosom
of every man who looked on at this day's assault, that,
with a fair chance for success, our volunteers would
be invincible. The men who boldly plunged into
that sea of death will save our country yet against
the Southern rebel, and the still more unworthy traitor
of the North. If any one doubts this, I would that
he could have stood with me this day, and every such
doubt would certainly disappear. Never have I been
so proud of my countrymen; and, despite the sickening conviction that those heights could not be carried
by our troops, I felt as never so strongly before that,
with heroes like these, the defeat of treason was only
a question of time.
HIow had it fared meanwhile with the left grand
division? All day long we had heard the din of their
contest with the enemy, and two or three squads of
prisoners in gray had already passed us, indicating
that the fight had been at close quarters. Riding over 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
toward their bridges at the close of the battle on the
right, I met an officer who reported that we had early
in the day driven the rebels from some of their out works at the point of the bayonet, and captured several hundred prisoners; but that an attack by a supe rior force had compelled our men to relinquish the
advanced position won by their valor and fall back,
and that thus the enemy still held intact their line of
works. It was but too evident that here, as on our
right, the work was all to be recommenced on the
morrow. Meanwhile the hospitals were full of agony,
and out under the cool evening sky lay hundreds of
our unburied heroes.
Suncday, December 14th. Early this morning, having
gotten through with some necessary business, I started
to the front. As I drew near the river, I halted a
moment on the bluff just above the pontoon bridges
of the left grand division to survey the striking picture. Far as the eye could reach on either hand, up
and down the river, stretched our batteries, with the
artillery bivouacs sheltered in their rear. The men
were now standing lazily around their pieces or gazing out toward the wooded heights two miles away
over the river, where crouched the rebel cannon, and
where the rebel infantry lay in wait for an approaching foe.
The battle had not yet recommenced; occasionally
a puff of smoke might be seen among the distant trees,
followed by a muffled roar and the shriek of a projectile, to be met by instant reply from one of our own
batteries; but, for the most part, our guns were at rest.
Just below the bluff, a plain of an eighth of a mile extended to the river, upon which ammunition wagons
311
I 
312   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
were parked, while over it wound to and from the
bridges a continuous procession of staff officers and
orderlies, and of ambulances now engaged in bringing
over the wounded to the hospitals on this side. The
inequalities of surface concealed from my view most
of our troops on the other side, and only the skirmishers disturbed the prevailing quiet.
Descending to the plain, I was soon crossing one of
the bridges, here guarded by detachments of infantry
and cavalry to prevent the egress of stragglers. I then
ascended the sloping bank on the other side and
reached the plain.  Here, a short distance in front,
were troops drawn up in line of battle and standing
at ease, composing the reserves, held back in readiness
to dash in to give the finishing blow for victory, or
perhaps to cover the retreat of our discomfited battalions.
My own division held the extreme left of our lines
two miles or more down the river. As I rode along
most of the troops were lying on their arms, and I was
struck with the rather small show the thirty or forty
thousand troops of the left grand division made in so
extended a plain. A wide, well-shaded road, running
parallel to and about half a mile distant from the Rappahannock, marked our main line of battle. Here our
batteries were posted, with this tracery of blue uniforms behind them. Once in a while a reminder would
come from our friends on the heights in the shape of
a shrieking shell, followed by a sudden and sulphurous response from one of our own watch-dogs, while
the sharp crack, crack of musketry, perhaps an eighth
of a mile in front, indicated the whereabouts of our
pickets, now briskly skirmishing. Occasionally a quar 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
tette of stretcher-bearers came slowly along with a
wounded soldier, his face covered, and his wound crimsoning the earth with drops of blood as he was carried
to the hospital.
Two large and handsome residences very near the
river had been appropriated by the surgeons, and in
the rear of one of them were the head-quarter tents
of General Franklin. It was while sitting under one
of these trees, near the stone house, that the gallant
Bayard was mortally wounded by a chance shell.
The attitude of the troops was that of expectancy,
but, for the present, the gunners rested alongside their
pieces, and the infantry were standing at ease. As I
drew near the extreme left the rattle of musketry increased, for our skirmishers were just then having a
hot time of it. The general and staff were sitting under a tree by the roadside, and I was soon listening
to yesterday's experiences. To our division had been
assigned the duty of extending our left down the river
and driving the rebels over Massaponix Creek, while
to the divisions of Meade and Gibbon were given the
storming of the heights in front of this position. From
all accounts, both duties had been splendidly performed. The 1st division advanced for more than a mile
and still held the extreme point gained, while the 2d
and 3d had charged into and through the woods upon
the enemy's fortifications, captured several hundred
prisoners, and needed, as it would seem, only sudden
and quick re-enforcement to pierce the rebel line, gain
his flank, and probably defeat him. IHow well General Smith's corps and General Hooker's reserves did
their duty; how the rebel batteries swept the plain 
with a murderous fire of shot and shell; how our own
313 
814   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
men behaved-this, with the various personal incidents of the fight, greatly interested me.
Two sons of New York on our staff had been especially fortunate. One had been sent out to the skirmishers with orders for them to push into a certain piece
of woods, and the other obtained permission to accompany him. Instead of delivering their orders and returning, the young scamps led the skirmishers in person, made a brilliant cavalry charge of two into the
woods, captured and brought off several rebel cavalry-men, and, what they seemed to value still more,
three fine horses as prize of war. One of them had
his horse so badly wounded at Bull Run as to be unserviceable ever since, and was now willing to call his
account with the rebels, in this regard, square.
After hearing the news I again mounted and visited the several brigades. Our loss thus far had been
small, and the men were in good condition and fine
spirits. It was especially fortunate that during the
whole of this Fredericksburg tragedy the weather was
mild and delightful-a great blessing to the wounded
and to the men, who were not permitted to light fires.
While thus engaged among the brigades, a solitary
Whitworth gun, the only one I have ever become acquainted with, which had been planted by the enemy
on the other side of Massaponix Creek, and close to
the river, and which thus enfiladed our entire line, began to throw solid shot among us very uncourteously.
Though more than a mile distant, its aim was quite as
good as was desirable, for sometimes the projectile
struck a hundred feet or so in front, and rebounded
over our heads, while the next perhaps struck in our
rear. It was agreed by all that the yell of this pro 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
jectile was the most ear-piercing we had ever listened
to. It is oblong and grooved, so as to give it a rapid
spin or rotation in the air, which adds to the music of
its flight. I saw one strike apparently in the very
midst of a group of our old brigade, and ricochet;
there was a cloud of dust, a sudden jump of the men,
but no one was injured. Another cut through a soldier's knapsack in a very artistic manner, not wounding the man, but flinging into the air, among other
things, his pack of cards-an expeditious deal, though
not according to Hioyle.
"I declare," said to me one of our staff, about as
cool and brave a fellow as I ever saw, "that confounded Whitworth half scares me."  The unpleasant feature about this particular gun was that we could see
the swoke-puff so long before the shot struck or went
howling over our heads. It was supposed to be introductory to an attack by the enemy, and every preparation was made to resist it, General Reynolds riding
at once to the front, accompanied by our own general
and staff, who at once got the brigades well in hand.
But only this solitary Whitworth kept up the ball,
accompanied, it is true, by the music of one of ourown
batteries, which sought to return the compliment. I
did not hear of a single one of our men being killed
or wounded, so that this was rather an expensive luxury to the enemy, every discharge costing them about
ten dollars, and they soon ceased firing.
And this quiescent position of affairs was maintained along the entire line of both armies, the skirmishers having all the fighting to themselves. On my
way back I called in at the hospitals, where I foundevery thing comfortably arranged, the wounded hav
315 
316 THlE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
ing for the most part been already sent across the riv
er. During the afternoon I took a look at the position on the right, but only an artillery duel or two at
long range, and occasional skirmishing, made up the
record of the day.
Our tents being close to the roadside, we kept open
house, having sometimes three sets of hungry officers
at our mess-table at a single meal; but these were
days of such anxiety that the duties of hospitality
were only mechanically observed.
AMonday, December 15it. Another foggy morning,
and I once more crossed the river and rode out to the
division to find every body quiet, but still in a state
of constant expectancy. During this morning the
pickets by common consent ceased firing, and, pending a flag of truce, they not only met half way as exchanged coffee for tobacco, but sat down on the grass
and had a friendly game of cards in a quiet way. Perhaps an hour before these card-players had been straining every nerve to get a good shot at each other; for
the present, however, all this fighting was to be considered in a Pickwickian sense, and so merrily went
on the game.
On my return from the front, having some business
to transact at the office of the provost marshal general, I rode up to head-quarters, a canvas city with one
wide street leading up through double lines of tents to
the marquee of the commanding general.  General
Burnside was just riding out of camp with half a dozen aids, and as I saw the patriot hero, my whole soul
responded to the wish that he might yet succeed in
his desperate undertaking. 
The next day, Tuesday, was another quiet day, 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
though a very busy one in my department, as it was
necessary to send supplies to thie front.  Every day
we had expected the renewal of the battle; every
hour was one of anxious expectancy; every night we
had said at parting, "To-morrow will surely be the
decisive day!" These were the longest days of the
campaign for those who, having none of the excitement of personal participation, experienced the doubt
and uncertainty, the mingled turmoil of hope and fear,
which one might see painted upon the countenances
of even the most careless among us. For one, since
the result of the first day's fighting, I had felt but little hope of our ultimate success; and it has always
been a mystery to me why our forces were permitted
to remain so long unattacked, especially on our left,
where our defeat must have resulted in the capture of
be left grand division.
I had retired early to my tent on Tuesday evening,
glad to be alone with my own thoughts, and was soon
a candidate for sleep. About midnight our little
camp was aroused by the sound of voices; I turned
over, rubbed my eyes, listened, could not believe my
own senses, for the voices sounded strangely like those
of the general and staff. What could it mean? Not
an intimation of a retreat had reached us; at sundown
I had been ordered to send over certain supplies; but
this must be a retreat! The night was stormy; the
wind howled drearily through the tents, and General
Burnside had taken advantage of this propitious circumstance to withdraw his army.
To Lieutenant Rogers, of Wisconsin, who had lately
joined our staff as acting aid, had been assigned the
duty of bringing off the pickets of the left grand di
817 
318  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
vision, a most responsible office, only to be entered
upon after the main body had crossed the bridges.
His description of his midnight experiences greatly
interested us. Sitting on his horse beneath the pelting storm, he waited patiently at the bridges until the
last brigade was moving down to the river.  Two
miles away, out in yonder darkness, a few hundred of
our men stood leaning on their muskets, peering anxiously out into the night toward the picket-line of the
enemy. Not a man of this line of scattered sentinels,
three miles long, suspected that he and his comrades
were the only Union soldiers on that side the river;
not a man, as shivering beneath the midnight blast he
thought perchance of his Northern home, even dreamed that the long lines of artillery and infantry he saw
behind him at sunset had all disappeared; that the
whole host of his brothers had departed, leaving him
close to the enemy and almost alone.
The time has come to ride back and bring off these
outlying sentinels, so that every man of them shall be
rescued without arousing the suspicions of the enemy.
One sudden exclamation by a surprised soldier may
bring down upon the little handful the ever-vigilant
foe. Two long miles must be traversed by the pickets
on the left before they can reach the bridges, and their
course is to be immediately in front of the enemy's
lines. How easily they may be cut off! how much
faster than men these rebel bullets travel!  It is certainly fully time for our staff comrade to be off on his
perilous journey.
Splendidly mounted, he takes ditches and fences at
a flying leap, and rushes down to the extreme left
with no regard to the roads, but straight as the bee 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.
flies. The left once gained, he moderates his pace,
and coolly whispers into the ear of each astonished
officer his orders. "Order every man in your cornmmand to fall back steadily, and very silently; gradually close up your ranks, and move swiftly to the
bridges. Whisper these directions into their ears man
by man." So quietly but rapidly he speeds down the
picket-line; the propitious storm howls with unabated
fury; not a rebel sentinel gives the alarm; one by one
our drenched boys are falling back and drawing in
together. The last officer has notified the last man;
silently as shadows the whole picket-line steals across
the plain. And now, as the ranks close up, now for
rapid marching. Double-double-quick is about the
pace. The wild sweep of the storm sounds ever and
anon terribly like the murmur of excited pursuit, but
no rebel thunderbolt comes darting out of the darkness, no rebel bullet strikes down a single man. Half
an hour after the order was whispered into the ear
of the soldier standing guard on the extreme left, the
whole picket-line is moving swiftly down the bank,
and reaches the bridge. Only one bridge remains, for
the others have been already removed, and at its head
stand the engineers, all ready to take up the planks,
cast off the pontoons, and float them across the river.
Another minute, and the floating causeway, already
partially cut loose from its moorings, trembles beneath
the quiet tread of the rejoicing column; another
minute, and our lieutenant, grimly smiling as the last
files reach the bridge, moves over also.
And now, engineers, to your work! It may be
that the foe has discovered the escape, and is hurry ing forward in quick pursuit; it may be that evefi
319 
820   THIE BIVOUAC AND TIE  BATTLE-FIELD.
yet a volley of leaden hail may come hurtling down
from yonder bank, or a desperate charge endeavor to
capture the pontoons. It is astonishing how quickly
the bridge comes up under such urgent reasons for
haste. It falls to pieces as if by magic. The pontoons are floated over, and at once drawn up the bank.
Not a single soldier is left on the other side of the
Rappahannock; every gun, ambulance, and wagon is
safely across; and thus is accomplished a retreat which
almost negatives the sad reverses of the battle of Fredericksburg. 
A CAMPAIGN IN THE MUD.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A CAMPAIGN IN THE MUD.
HllURSDAY, December 17th. I fancy that the rebel
pickets must have been slightly astonished this
morning when the gray dawn revealed the fact that
the plain, so lately bristling with hostile cannon and
bayonets, was now deserted, and that our forces had
taken French leave. Probably a little rage mingled
with their astonishment, for, as we sat at breakfast,
several shots from our old friend, the Whitworth gun,
came shrieking over our mess-tent, too high, however,
to do us any damage.
And now, for more than a month, with one or two
changes of camp, we hid away in the woods south of
Potomac Creek, forming part of the cordon of troops
protecting the government d6pots at Belle Plaine.
Our line of infantry pickets stretched from the Rappahannock to the Potomac, while the whole neck between the two rivers for twenty miles was patroled
by our cavalry. It would have been quite worth the
while for a citizen unacquainted with army matters to
visit the quarter-master and commissary depots lining
Aquia and Potomac Creeks, for thus he might get
some idea of the immense equipments and supplies
required by a large army. Several roads were cut to
and from these depo6ts, and the wagons were busily
engaged in hauling the necessary supplies for subsisting the men and fitting them out for another trial with
O 2
321 
322 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
the enemy. As the troops had now abundant leisure,
they exhibited a good deal of taste and skill in the
building and decoration of their huts. A good wide
fireplace at one end, bunks for beds, carpets of cedar twigs, cracker-box tables, and pork-barrel armed
chairs, with neat racks for their muskets and other
equipments, made these winter houses almost luxurious. The rebels had passed the last winter here, and
left behind them two villages of substantial log houses,
to which our boys now fell heirs, and valued them accordingly.
During these days, by one of those changes resulting from priority of rank, our division received a new
commander, while our former general was transferred
to the command of another division in the same corps.
Of course the withdrawal of the latter created a profound sensation among officers and men.  It was natural that the troops who had followed him through so
many scenes of difficulty and danger, who had learned
to love, and, what is far more important, to trust in
him, and who  had become proud of their leader,
should experience deep regret at the parting, while
those of us who had entered into military life as members of his staff felt like men who are parting with
their best friend. As only his aids are attached to
the person of a general, most of the staff still remained
at division head-quarters.
With our new general, late military governor of
Washington, whom we had long known by reputation, we were soon quite at home; and as such a man
usually surrounds himself with gentlemen, we found
his personal aids very pleasant companions in carap,
and every thing soon fell into the usual comfortable 
A CAMPAIGN IN THE MUD.
routine at our head-quarters. Our tents ran along a
little ridge among the trees, extra comforts were laid
in, and we did our best not to think too much of home
in these winter-woods of Virginia.
My servant Charles had now a confrere in the duty
of waiting upon the general's mess in the person of
"Cupid," about the ugliest personification of the God
of Love it has ever been my lot to meet. Charles was
now in trouble. The resources of the quarter-master's
department had been taxed in vain to find shoes of
sufficient capacity for him, while one or two attempts
at Washington in the same direction had as yet proved
unsuccessful.  He could wear "twelves," but "thirteens" fitted him better, and his feet were now daily
exposed to contact with a good deal of cold or snowcovered ground. One day I found him sitting on the
floor of my tent with several pairs of dilapidated shoes
lying about him, which he had brought in from a late
visit to one of the camps. " I'se gwine to take two
pair of sixes and make one pair of twelves out of'em,
shure!" said he, and for days he devoted his leisure
time to this new experiment in pedal architecture. It
was entirely successful, and I soon had another convincing proof that twice six makes twelve.
Charles was more busy than ever in learning to
read and write. Berryman, of course, left us with his
general; the literary efforts of this sixty-year-old pupil had been rewarded with success at last. I declare
there was something really touching in the sight of this
gray-headed negro painfully spelling out his letters.
Charles still remains with the division, but Berryman
accompanied a scouting party one day into his old
country, and brought back with him Mrs. Berrymgn
323 
324  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
and half a dozen children. lHe now left the army, and
is residing comfortably on free territory. One can
not help becoming strongly attached to these children
of slavery. They are, of course, very far as yet from
reaching the standard of availability or energy attained by men whose natural powers have been trained
and incited by the stimulus of free labor, but they are
wonderfully faithful and trustworthy, and I felt safe
in permitting to Charles free access to every thing in
my possession.  I firmly believe that we have the
destiny of this race in our own hands; that they are
capable of great development, and are to be hereafter
a blessing or a curse to us, just as the ruling classes
shall decide.
Road-making and corduroying were now the order
of the day. Detachments from the different brigades
were daily engaged in this business, and our general
frequently superintended the work, and sometimes
gave the men a little practical aid in order to show
them how these things are done. Some of the boys,
greatly pleased at this, christened him "Old Corduroy." I wonder what they called him afterward,
when he swam his horse across the Rappahannock
alongside the forlorn hope sent over in boats to dislodge the rebel sharpshooters? It was then evident
that, however much he liked a good road, he was by
no means particular when the object was to get at the
enemy.
But this road- making, drilling, and head- quarter
routine was for a while suspended by orders received
on Friday, January 16th, to be ready to march on the
following morning. This order was, however, countermanded, but on the following Monday it was re 
A CAMPAIGN IN THE MUD.
newed, and on Tuesday we struck tents, and by noon
the division was on the march. If I may judge from
my own observation and the opinions of brigade commanders, the men were never in better spirits, never
more ready to do their whole duty. They marched
forward well knowing that another attempt to cross
the Rappahannock and to attack the enemy was before them, and every body was willing to lend his
best help to secure, this time, an entire success.
But about 4 P.M. it began to rain; not a gentle
shower which lays the dust, and is rather refreshing
than disagreeable, but a cold, driving storm, which,
aided by the gale, penetrated the clothing and cut the
faces of the men as they staggered on. The deepcut Virginia roads became in two hours quagmires,
through which atrillery and wagon-trains were with
difficulty dragged at the rate of a mile an hour. It
was after dark when we reached Stoneman's switch
on the railroad, near which the brigades were bivouacked in the woods, made fires, and sought a watery
repose.
By the light of lanterns we pitched a couple of
tents on a bleak and exposed plateau for division
head-quarters, where at every step we sank deeply
into the mire. For at least half an hour our patient
cook sought to work out a rather difficult problem,
viz., how to make a fire of green wood in a mud-puddle out in a driving rain. Fire and water were here
brought into fierce opposition, but fire finally got the
best of it, and we were soon standing in the mud
around a table in the general's tent, supping on coffee,
canned meats, and hard bread.
The large office-tent had been put up as a common
325 
326 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
bedchamber for the staff; our cots were brought in,
and, when put up, looked like islands of refuge surrounded by water. My servant had located mine in
one corner; beside it was a lake growing gradually
larger; a gentle rivulet meandered through the middle of the tent.  The scenery was peculiar, though not
picturesque. How to get one's boots off, and where to
leave them, except in a mud-puddle, was the first question. Some of the staff immediately went to work
digging trenches and canals for drainage purposes;
and having, in the mean time, gotten into my bed as
into a bag, lest the wind, now eddying under and
through our canvas walls, should tear away my blankets, I looked out from the top, considerably interested
in these new experiments in hydraulics.
Our cots sank down, of course, into the mud; but, as
long as they did not float off, we were safe. Only one
trouble now disturbed us. The storm had evidently
determined that our canvas roof should not stand; the
ground was too wet to hold the tent-pins securely, and
the whole affair was now swaying from side to side
like a balloon impatient to be off on its aerial travels.
As I was in the windward corner, my sleep was agreeably diversified by being roused several times to grasp
the fluttering canvas, and scream for the guard to pin
it once more down.
At last, about three in the morning, with one wild
yell of triumph, the eddying storm tore up our tenement, sent its frail rafters clattering about our ears,
and carried it off bodily in its arms, leaving us delightfully exposed, out on a naked hill-side, to the pitiless
tempest. At first I resolved to remain in my bag
Unfortunately, it opened the wrong way, affording free 
A CAMPAIGN IN THE MUD.
entrance to the rain and wind, which rushed in so desperately as to compel me to leave. Rising, I groped
my way to the general's tent, which had long since
lost shape and symmetry, and was flapping about like
a ship's topsails in a calm.  He was sleeping so comfortably that I did not disturb him, but, after putting
in a pin or two more to restrain his bedchamber from
flying away, I went into the orderlies' tent, where we
passed the rest of the night in trying to keep our feet
as much as possible out of the mud. On the whole,
this was a very proper introduction to our campaign
in the mud.
Very early next morning, after a cold and hurried
breakfast, the troops began to wade on to glory.  The
rain still deluged the earth, the usual mud-holes became miniature lakes; to get the pontoons, the artillery, and the ammunition wagons along was next to
impossible. It was painfully evident that, to succeed
in this movement, our men and our horses ought to
have been made web-footed. After an aquatic excursion of about five miles, the division reached at 3 P.M.
our stopping-place for the night; but the batteries
were still plowing up the mud in the rear, and did not
get up until the next day. The whole country about
us was full of troops; but the main supply trains of
the entire army had been left behind at their old parks,
our own being in charge of the lieutenant who so handsomely brought off the pickets after the late battle.
The men had time to build for themselves rustic
dens and huge camp-fires before night shut in, while
the general and staff bivouacked on the lower floor
of a comfortable roadside house.  That night our bedchamber did not blow away.
Thursday, January 22d. The division remained to
327 
328   THE BIVOUAC AND THiE BATTLE-FIELD.
day quietly in the mud, but I passed most of it in the
saddle, having to retrace my steps on the old business.
It was a most slow, uncomfortable, and splashy ride,
out of which my horse and I came looking more like
an equestrian statue done in clay than like living beings. Shipwrecked wagons, dead and dying mules
and horses, pontoons stuck in the mud, guns dragged
along by doubling up their usual teams, a few regiments on their dismal march, and mud-incased staff
officers like myself filled the roads, and imparted a
doleful look to the whole picture. It was on this day
that some facetious rebels erected, on the opposite side
of the river, for the delectation of our pickets, a signboard with the legend, "Burnside stuck in the mud."
I returned to our wayside house in time for a late
dinner, and by 7 P.M. our room was once more floored
with cots, for the general had ordered lights out early, and an equally early turning out on the morrow.
Hardly were we snugly under the blankets before the
music of a regimental band broke in upon the stillness of the hour, and rarely have I enjoyed any serenade so much as this one given to the general. We
were now aware that our last effort was a failure, and
that we were on the morrow to return to our old quarters, and were of course feeling a little blue, so that
the music just fitted my mood.
Very early next morning we were on our return.
The men were anxious to secure their old huts and
articles of comfort, and marched through the mud as
I never saw men march before. As we once more
erected our canvas houses on the well-known ridge,
the sun burst forth from the clouds, its first greeting -
since we commenced our ill-starred enterprise. And
so ended the celebrated campaign in the mud. 
WINTER-QUARTERS.
CHAPTER XXX.
WINTER-QUARTERS.
HWARTED  by the elements in its late move     ment, there was nothing for the Army of the
Potomac to do but to go into winter-quarters, and
await a more propitious season. Baffled but not discouraged, this was only one more of those disappointments through which that army has passed, with a
courage and determination more ennobling than any
success, on its way to future victories.
Its day of glory is sure to come. On many a battle-field it has illustrated a heroic valor which has
won for it on the Peninsula, in Maryland, and in
Eastern Virginia magnificent partial successes- the
promise and prophecy of that substantial and decisive
victory yet to come. Let me pay to it the homage
of my admiration and gratitude for its past sacrifices,
and attest my belief, founded upon the evidence of my
own experiences, that it is yet to cover itself with
patriotic glory. How splendidly this army can fight;
how, when a forlorn hope was needed, the men have
been always ready; how, after weeks of hard marching and fighting, they have moved with alacrity against
the enemy, has been partially delineated in these
pages. If the fault has been with its leaders, this is
not the place to criticise them, nor do I feel in the
mood. Let the dead Past bury its dead.
When this war began, there existed among officers
329 
330 THiE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
of the regular army a strong prejudice against the
volunteers; but this has, among those who have seen
much fighting, almost wholly disappeared. Still, one
serious defect, the want of proper discipline, greatly
vitiates and impairs the fighting value of our citizen troops-a defect having its origin mainly in the
method of their enlistment. Under that method a
captain found in his ranks his equals, his friends, his
schoolmates and neighbors. To subject these to a
strict military discipline was, from the nature of the
case, well-nigh impossible. Moreover, a good many
poor sticks, from one reason and another, managed to
get into positions for which they were totally unfitted,
and it took some time to get rid of them. I have
known an entire regiment, made up of excellent fighting material, rendered comparatively worthless by
having at its head a skulker or two with shoulderstraps. And if there be one lesson which I think I
have well learned during my limited experiences, it is
the absolute necessity of having for field officers men
who respect themselves, men who stand firmly on
their own feet-self-possessed, self-contained, elevated
and strengthened by a sense of patriotic duty. Imagine a whining incapable leading a regiment upon a
desperate bayonet charge!
The very first element of discipline is of course respect, and only a whole man can command the respect
of his inferiors. No regimental field officer should
hold in his hand the great responsibility of the leadership of a thousand men unless he has passed a
thorough examination, which shall test not so much
his knowledge of tactics as his self-respect, manliness,
reserved force, character. Given a man, and all the 
WINTER-QUARTERS.
rest becomes easy, whether you want him for a colonel
or a general, or even commander-in-chief. It took a
very short time to make out of Oliver Cromwell a
leader who put to shame the former driveling timidity of Essex, and led his men through an almost uninterrupted path of victory.
Says Macaulay in his article on John Hampden,
"It is a remarkable circumstance that the officers who
had studied tactics in what were considered as the
best schools, under Vere in the Netherlands and under Gustavus Adolphus in Germany, displayed far less
skill than those commanders who had been bred to
peaceful employments, and who never saw even a
skirmish till the civil war broke out. An unlearned
person might hence be inclined to suspect that the
military art is no profound mystery; that its principles are the principles of plain common sense; and
that a quick eye, and a cool head, and a stout heart
will do more to make a general than all the diagrams
of Jomini."
Even our West Point school, to whose thorough
sifting processes we owe that annual platoon of accomplished officers, scholars, and gentlemen, whose
military knowledge has drilled and organized our
newly-formed armies, and whose valor and discipline
has set so good an example to our volunteers-even
West Point, with all its training, can not manufacture
a first-rate officer unless that indispensable ingredient
be furnished-a man.
Good regimental leaders being thus selected by a
commission more anxious for manhood than for those
matters of drill which come so easily to ordinary comprehension, we shall soon have that discipline we so
331 
332  THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
much need-a discipline which to the inexperienced
might appear almost cruel, but which is really merciful and humane. Absolute obedience at the risk of
being cut down on the instant for neglect, the punishment of a coward on the spot-this in mercy to his
comrades, and as a necessity to the country, should
be the iron rule of our army in battle. War is the
meanest and most brutal way of settling a difficulty;
a battle is the lowest and most unnatural mode of trying and deciding a disputed issue; but when war
does come, when a battle becomes necessary, it should
be no child's play, but the desperate use of our fiercest
fighting qualities, or we must necessarily be defeated.
In a storm at sea, we know that if the master of the
ship does not hold the wills of his seamen wholly lost
and fused in his own, so that they will dare any danger at his bidding, the ship will probably perish; so
in a battle, an even more terrible season of crisis, the
commander must hold his troops in the very hollow
of his hand, to be retained inflexibly, or hurled as one
man in any needed direction.  This straggling from
the line of march should be stopped, even if it require
the severest punishment, while the coward in battle
should be made to fear the sword of his officer more
than the bullets of the enemy.
The great majority of our volunteers, brave fellows
as they are, are ready and willing to do their whole
duty; it is in justice to them that I advocate a more
careful selection of regimental officers, and a more
rigid discipline. To stand up and face the dread realities of battle requires not only manly pride and the
incitement of patriotic impulses, but also a severity ofdiscipline which shall surround each command as with 
WINTER-QUARTERS.
a ring of iron. What every soldier needs is to know
that the quickest escape for him out of this bloody
lane is to beat the enemy; that he stands here at the
orders of those who will withdraw him when necessary, but will punish him on the spot for retreating
without orders; and that his file-closer, his company,
his regiment, his brigade, will not and can not desert
him, will absolutely support him to the bitter end.
One coward sneaking to the rear makes a bad gap,
breaks the chain of sympathy, demoralizes all about
him.
Closely connected with this subject of want of discipline is that of the enormous waste of ammunition
in battle. Having gotten our soldier before the enemy, and compelled him by this iron rule to stay there
and fight, the next point is that he fight to some purpose.
At first I concluded that the great disproportion in
our battles between the number of ball cartridges discharged and the numbers of killed and wounded was
due mainly to the want of presence of mind in our raw
troops; but the very limited investigation I have been
enabled to make has convinced me that our troops
take much better aim, and consequently waste far less
ammunition than is usual in European warfare.
During the wars of the French Revolution and of
the Empire-Napoleon's wars-according to Gassendi, a French general of artillery, the infantry fired
3000 cartridges for every enemy killed or wounded.
Piobert admits the same thing. Decker, a Prussian
general, and one of the best military writers in Germany, estimated that not less than 10,000 cartridges
are burned for every enemy killed or wounded.
333 
334 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
At the battle of Vittoria the English are supposed
to have killed or wounded one of the enemy for every
800 balls fired. An English officer states that at the
battle of Cherubusco the Mexicans killed or wounded
an American for every 800 balls fired, and that the
Americans killed or wounded a Mexican for every
125 balls fired.*
The heroic Rosecrans, in his account of the bloodily-contested battle of Murfreesborough, declares, "Of
14,560 rebels struck by our missiles, it is estimated
that 20,000 rounds of artillery hit 728 men, - and
200,000 rounds of musketry hit 13,833 men, averaging 27 cannon shots to hit one man, and 145 musket
shots to hit one man."
In the battle of Gainesville, spoken of in another
chapter, there could not have been expended more
than 100,000 cartridges, and the enemy admit a loss
of more than 1000 men, thus averaging 100 musket
shots to each of the rebel killed or wounded. Of
course all such statements only approximate the actual ratio, but it is sufficiently clear that, great as is the
waste of ammunition by our army, it is not only
equaled, but excelled by those of Europe.
One trouble is that our men, in going into battle, are
weighed down, overloaded with ammunition, having
to stuff their pockets as well as their cartridge-boxes
with the sixty or eighty rounds ordered. Of course
very much of this is thrown away and wasted; but
this is only a trifling evil compared with the encouragement thus given to the too prevalent idea among
the men that he who fires the greatest number of
rounds in battle is the best soldier. I have heard men
* See "Rifles and Rifle Practice," by Wilcox, p. 236, 237. 
WINTER-QUARTERS.
boasting of their achievements in this regard, and the
result of such an idea is a hurried loading and dis  charge without any regard to aim; a wasting upon
trees and foliage of ammunition which, if used at all,
should be used so as to defeat the enemy. I was
struck with a remark made by a rebel prisoner to his
captors, "We never carry more than forty rounds into
action, and usually expend about ten."
There is altogether too much of this wild, reckless
firing, the men discharging their pieces before bring ing them fairly down to a level, and utterly regardless
of taking aim. Of course there are periods when
.earv, rapid, and continuous volleys are necessary;
still it would be well if every man could be drilled as
a sharpshooter, taught to shoot slowly, and always
take aim, either at the enemy or his supposed locality.
This, and the more frequent trust in cold steel alone,
the latter being especially necessary in operations
against a fortified and sheltered foe, have seemed desirable for our volunteers. HIow gallantly they can
charge, and how fatal have been their volleys, has
been too often illustrated on many a bloody field to
require any praise of mine; my only suggestion being that if they discharged fewer cartridges, and still
more frequently depended on the bayonet alone, it
might be better for our cause.
But I must pause, or I shall exceed even my privilege as a Yankee, as one of a race always ready to
give their opinion on any subject "for what it is
worth." I feel that in these military matters I have
no right to give an opinion, but the terrible importance of this struggle to all of us must be my apology.
I have seen troops in battle discharging their pieces
335
I 
336 THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
at an angle of forty-five degrees, and the instances of
their firing into each other are by no means rare. An
appeal may safely be made to many of our officers
whether the first duty to be taught an inexperienced
soldier should not be this-to fire slowly and composedly, or not at all. I would rather have five hundred men who fired thus, once in two minutes, than a
thousand who should be anxious only to discharge
their muskets.
To the very interesting statements as to the ratio
between the casualties in battle and the whole number engaged which have from time to time appeared,
I can only allude. In the five battles of the late
Italian campaign, for example, it was estimated that
about 8 per cent. of the French and Sardinians, and
101 per cent. of their enemies the Austrians, were
either killed or wounded. In the battles spoken of
in these sketches our loss was not far from 10 per
cent. of the whole numbers engaged, while certain divisions and brigades lost one third of their number;
and in the fearfully bloody fight at Gainesville two
of our regiments lost more than one third of their
number engaged, as did also the 4th brigade.
The proportion between the killed and the wounded is about as 1 to 5, and of the wounded about 1 in
10 never recovers. If this be even approximative to
the truth, it certainly robs war of sonme of its presumed
fatality. As I have before remarked, the escape of so
large a majority of the men, amid such storms of bullets sweeping and yelling around their ears, has always been the great mystery of war.
But to return to the Army of the Potomac. Mudh
at different times has been said about its demoraliza 
WINTER-QUARTERS.
tion, but I believe that this has usually been a crea  ture of the imagination in those who have had so
much to say about it. These volunteers are not chil  dren requiring constantly to be petted withal, and
feeling no personal stake in this momentous issue.
Of course a man's fighting value may be reduced by
fatigue, constant excitement, paucity of food and sleep,
but a day or two of rest recruits him. No man likes
to be beaten, but forty-eight hours afterward he has
forgotten his disappointment, and is ready to "pick
the flint and try it again."
Of course there will always be more or less grum bling among volunteers, especially when they have
but little to do; though, as far as my observation
goes, this Anglo-American privilege is not one tenth
so common among our boys as it is among the semi traitorous crew who sit at ease at home, and do nothing but grumble.  In every army, the men who straggle, and who avoid arduous or dangerous duty, are always demoralized; but, as the fighting is done by the
others, this may be considered only as the usual wastage. In this wastage may be included some, doubtless, who wear the straps of the officer, and their faces
are always long, their tales always doleful and despairing.
I am inclined to think that a man thoroughly in
earnest, and inclined to perform his own duty, seldom
has much to say about demoralization. Hle does not
see it; for he carries about with him an atmosphere
of encouragement and hope, so that his men and his
companions are never demoralized in his presence.
'The Army of the Potomac has several times practically refuted the slanders of these whining prophets,
P
337 
338   THE BIVOUAC AND THE BATTLE-FIELD.
and will do it again and again at the first opportunity.
In conclusion, then, let me once more record my
heartfelt admiration of the Army of the Potomac as a
worthy coadjutor of our glorious armies of the West,
and my belief that it will yet crown its many reverses
and sacrifices by decisive victories. And my last
words can be only those of hope and encouragement;
for, as I review the events of the past two years, I
have greater love for our Constitution, which has
proved itself a chart sufficiently comprehensive to
guide us even over the untried and stormy seas of this
rebellion; for our form of government, as challenging
the world for the rapidity with which it has organized
its power into immense armies and navies; for my
country, hardly feeling this draft upon its resources,
and growing richer every day; for my countrymen,
now beginning to take hold in earnest of this war as
a matter of settled and permanent business; for our
great underlying principle of Liberty, every day attesting its applicability to men of every color and every rank.
It may be that we are to have more reverses mingled with our victories; but these delays are all right,
are indeed necessary to insure for our national disease
a permanent cure. One thing is certain, that the man
who lends neither his wealth, his influence, nor his
right arm to aid on the war, has no right whatever to
complain of any delay in its prosecution. Rights and
duties are correlative, and only he who performs his
duty to the government has any right to criticise its
action.
As yet, we have hardly begun to bring out our full 
.
WINTER-QUARTERS.
resources. England, in her twenty years' war with
Napoleon, expended $5,000,000,000, and came out
richer than when she went in. Adam Smith computes that one fifth of every population can fight, and
this would give us four millions of fighting men. We
must, if necessary, become a fighting nation. The vast
importance of the issue justifies every sacrifice. We
are fighting for Democracy every where. The European aristocracy recognizes this, and hence its opposition. Garibaldi knows it, and hence his enthusiastic
sympathy. In such a contest, upon whose result Freedom herself depends, there must be no such word as
fail. The omens are all propitious; patience, courage,
constancy must be ours, and may God defend the
right!
THE END.
339 
*1 
HARPER & BROTHERS'
LIST OF NEW BOOKS.
1  A3ailing Notice. —HAPPE  & BROTHIIERS will send their Books by Mail, postage
free (for any distance in the United States under 1500 miles), on receipt
of the Price.
1 HARPER'S CA TALOG UE may be obtained gratuitously, on application
to the Publishers personally, or by letter, inclosing Six Cents in Postage
Stamps.
A  HISTORY OF THE INTELLECTUAL DE  VELOPMENT OF EUROPE.   By JOHN WILLIAM DRA    rER, Professor of Chemistry and Physiology inll the Univer    sity of New York; Author of a "Treatise on Human Phys    iology," &c., &c. 8vo, Cloth, $3 50.
EMOIR OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER
OF THE  LATE  HON. THEO. FRELINGHUYSEN,
LL.D.  By TALBOT W. CHAMBERs.  With Portrait on
Steel. 12mo, Cloth, $1 25.
A  POINT OF HONOR.  A Novel. 8vo, Paper,
25 cents.
LIFE ON A GEORGIAN PLANTATION. Jour    nal of a Residence on a Georgian Plantation in 1838-1839.
By FRANcEs ANNE KEMBLIO. 12mo, Cloth, $1 25. 
2 Harper, & BBrothers' List of Neiw Books.
THE  CAPITAL OF THE TYCOON: A Narra     tive of a Three Years' Residence in Japan.   By Sir Ru     THERFORD ALCOCK, K.C.B., Her Majesty's Envoy Extraor     dinary and Minister Plenipotentiary in Japan.  With Maps
and Engravings. 2 vols. 12mo, Cloth.
HARPER'S HAND-BOOK FOR TRAVELLERS
IN EUROPE AND TIE EAST: being a Guide through
France, Belgium, Holland, Germany Austria, Italy, Sicily,
Egypt, Syria, Turkey. Greece, Switzerland, Russia, Den     mark, Sweden, Spain, and Great Britain and Ireland. By
W. PEMBROKE FETRIDGE. With a Map embracing Coloried
Routes of Travel in the above Countries, and a new Rail     road Map. Revised and Enlarged Edition. Large 12mo,
Cloth, $3 00; Leather Tucks, $3 50.
ELEANOR'S VICTORY. A Novel. By the Au     thor of "Aurora Floyd."  (In Press.)
OHN MARCHMONT'S LEGACY.  A Novel.
By the Author of " Aurora Floyd."  (In Press.)
LIVE IT DOWN.  A Story of the Light Lands.
By J. C. JEAFFRESON, Author of " Olive Blake's Good Work,"
"Isabel; the Young Wife and the Old Love," &c. 8vo, Pa     per.  (Nearly Ready.)
M'GREGOR'S SYSTEM OF LOGIC. A System
of Logic, comprising a Discussion of the various Means of
acquiring and retaining Knowledge, and avoiding Error.  By
P. M'GREGoR, A.M.   12mo, Cloth, $1 00; Sheep, $1 25. 
Iiactrper & Brothers' List of Xew Books.        3
l ISS IMULOCK'S FAIRY STORIES. The Fairy
Book.   The best Popular Fairy Stories selected and ren     dered anew. By the Author of "John Halifax, Gentle    man,"  "Olive,"  "The  Ogilvies," &c., &c.   Illustrations.
16mo, Cloth, $1 00.
ST. OLAVE'S. A Novel. Svo, Paper, 50 cents.
A    FIRST  FRIENDSHIP.   A Tale.  8vo, Paper,
25 cents.
KNAPP'S FRENCHII READING-BOOK. CHRES     TOMATHIE  FRAN(AISE; Containing I. Selections from
the best French Writers, with Copious References to the
Author's French Grammar.   II. The Master-Pieces of 3o     liere, Racine, Boileau, and Voltaire; with Explanatory Notce,
a Glossary of Idiomatic Phrases, and a Vocabulary.   B3y
WILLIAM J. KNAPP, A.M., Professor of Modern Languages
and Literature in Madison University, N. Y.  12mo, Cloth.
(lNea7rly Ready.)
HOOKER'S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. Science
for the School and Family. Part I. Natural Philosophy. By
WORTHINGTON HOOKER, M.D., Professor of the Theory aind
Practice of Medicine in Yale College, Author of "Child's
Book of Nature," "Natural History," "First Book in Chem     istry," &c.  Illustrated by nearly 300 Engravings.   12mo,
Cloth, $1 00.
CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD. A Novel.
Bv Mrs. OLIPHANT, Author of "The Life of Edward Irving,"
"The Last of the Mortimers," "The Days of My Life,"
"The Laird of Norlaw," "The House on the Moor," &c.
8vo, Paper, 75 cents; Cloth, $1 00. 
4   farpe' &  Brothers' List of Neow Books.
KINGLAKE'S CRIMEAN WAR.  The Invasion
of the Crimea: its Origin, and an Account of its Progress
down to the Death  of Lord Raglan.   By  ALEXANDER
WILLIAM3 KINGLAKE. With Maps and Plans. 2 vols. 12mo,
Cloth.  (Vol. I., Price $1 50, just ready.)
T HE BOYHOOD OF MARTIN LUTHER; or,
the Sufferings of the Heroic Little Beggar-Boy, who after     ward became the Great German Reformer. By HENRY
MAYHEW, Author of "Young Benjamin Franklin," "The
Peasant-Boy Philosopher, or the Life of Ferguson the Astron     omer;" "The Wonders of Science, or Young Humphrey
Davy," &c. With Illustrations. Small 12mo, Cloth gilt.
(In Press.)
SYLVIA'S LOVERS. A Novel. By Mrs. GASKELL,
Author of "Mary Barton," "Cranford," "My Lady Ludlow,"
"North and South," "The Moorland Cottage," "Right at
Last," &c. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents.
A  DARK  NIGHT'S  WORK.  A Tale. By Mrs.
GASKELL, Author of" Sylvia's Lovers," "Mary Barton," &c.
8vo, Paper, 25 cents.
GENERAL BUTTERFIELD'S CAMP AND OUT    POST DUTY. Camp and Outpost Duty for Infantry. With
Standing Orders, Extracts from the Revised Regulations for
the Army, Rules for Health, Maxims for Soldiers, and Du    ties of Officers. By DANIEL BUTTERFIELD, Major-Gen. Vols.,
U.S. A. Approved by thle War Department. 18mo, Flexible
Cloth, 60 cents. 
Icar])er &  Brothers' List of Xew Books.
H ARASZTHY'S GRAPE CULTURE AND
WINE-MAKING.   Grape Culture and Wine-Making;  be     ing the Official Report of the Commissioner appointed to
investigate the Agriculture of Europe, with especial Refer     ence to the Products of California. By A. HAASZTIIY.
Numerous Illustrations.   8vo, Cloth, $5 00.
LOO IS'S ELEMENTS OF ARITIIMETIC. The
Elements of Arithmetic: Designed for Children.  By ELIAS
LOO.IIS, LL.D., Professor of Natural Philosophy and As    tronomy in Yale College, and Author of a Course of Mathe    matics, &c. 16mo, 166 pages, Half Sheep, 30 cents.
BALDWIN'S AFRICAN HUNTING.  African
Hunting from Natal to the Zambesi, including Lake Ngami,
the Kalahari Desert, &c., from 1852 to 1860. By WILLIAM
CHARLES BALDWIN, Esq.,'F.R.G.S.  With Map, Fifty Illus     trations by Wolf and Zwecker, and a Portrait of the Great
Sportsman.  Small 8vo, Cloth, $1 50.
pRINCIPIA LATINA. PART I. A First Latin
Course. comprehending Grammar, Delectus, and Exercise
Book, with Vocabularies.  By WILLIAM SMITI, LL.D., Au     thor of the "History of Greece," and Editor of a "Classical
Dictionary" and the "Dictionary of Greek and Roman An     tiquities." Carefully Revised and Improved by Professor
HENRY DRISLER, of Columbia College, N. Y. 12mo, Flexi     ble Cloth, 60 cents.
,EA-KINGS AND NAVAL HEROES. A Book
for Boys.  By JoHN G. EDGAR, Author of " History for
Boys," "Boyhood of Great Men," "Footprints of Famous
Mlen," "Wars of the Roses," &c., &c. Illustrated by C.
KEENE and E. K. JOHNsoN. G16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.
5 
6      firz2per &  Brothers'  List of New Bookcs.
INES LEFT OUT; or, some of the Hllistories-left
Ll
Out in "Line upon Line."  This First Part relates to Events
ill the Times of the PATRIARCis and the JUDGES.   By the
Author of "Line upon Liine," "Reading without Tears,"
"More about Jesus," " Streaks of Light,"' &c.  Illustrated.
16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.
WVILKIE COLLINS'S NO NAME. NO NAME.
A Novel.  By WILKIE COLLINS, "Author of "The Woman
in White," "Queen of Hearts," "Antonina," &c. Illus     trated by JOHN MCLENAN.   8vo, Cloth, $1  50; Paper,
$1 25
BARRINGTON.  A Novel. By CIIARLES LEvEP,
Author of "Charles O'Malley," "Gerald Fitzgerald," "The
Martins of Cro' Martin," "Maurice Tiernay," "The Dodd
Family Abroad," "One of Them," &c., &c.  8vo, Paper, 50
cents.
MISTRESS AND MAID. A HIIOUSEHOLD
STORY.   By DINAH MARIA MULOCK, Allthor of "John
Halifax, Gentleman," "A Life for a Life," "Olive," "The
Ogilvies," &c., &c. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents.
TROLLOPE'S ORLEY FARM. ORLEY FARM.
A Novel.  By ANTHONY TROLLOPE, Author of" Framley Par     sonage," "Doctor Thorne," "The Bertrams," "Castle-Rich     mond," "The Three Clerks," "The West Indies and the
Spanish Main," &c. Illustrated by J. E. MILLAIS. 8VO,
Paper, $1 25; Cloth, $1 50. 
ff1aper &   7Brothers' List of New Books.
HARPER'S PICTORIAL HISTORY OF TIIE
GREAT REBELLION IN THE UNITED STATES.
The work will be issued in Numbers, as rapidly as is consistent
with thorough and careful preparation. The Publishers hope to be
able to issue two Numbers each month.
Each Number will contain  24 pages, of the size of I[arpei's
Tfck-ly, profusely illustrated, and printed in the best manner, from
large and legible type.
The price of each Number, containing matter equivalent to an
ordinary volume, will be Twenty-five Cents.
Booksellers, News Dealers, and Canvassing Agents will be supplied on the most liberal terms.
SPRINGS OF ACTION. By Mrs. C. II. B. RICH     ARDS. l2mo, Cloth, $1 00; Cloth, Gilt Edges, $1 25.
RUSSELL'S AMERICAN DIARY.  My Diary
North and South.  By WILLIAMi HOWARD RUSSELL, LL.D.
8vo, Paper, 50 cents; Cloth, 75 cents.
vILLSON'S PRIMARY SPELLER. A simple
and progressive Course of Lessons in Spelling, with Read,
ing and Dictation Exercises, and the Elements of Oral andl
Written Compositions.   By MARCIus WILLSON, Author of
the "School and Family Readers."   16mo, Half Bound, 12
ce -1  L11,.
7
416 
iji2ey do honor to American Literature, and would do
honor to the Literature of any Country in the World."
THE RISE OF
THE DUTCH REPUBLIC.
a
BY JOHN LOTHIROP MOTLEY.
New Edition.  With a Portrait of WILLIAM OF ORANGGE.  3 vols.
8vo, Muslin, $7 50.
We regard this work as the best contribution to modern history that has yet
beeu made by an American.-Methodist Quarterly Review.
The " History of the Dutch Republic" is a great gift to us; but the heart and
earnestness that beat through all its pages are greater, for they give us most
timely inspiration to vindicate the true ideas of our country, and to compose an
able history of our own.-Christian Examiner (Boston).
This work bears on its face the evidences of scholarship and research. The
,qa rangement is clear and effective; the style energetic, lively, and often brilliant.
*: I Mr. Motley's instructive volumes will, we trust, have a circulation commensorate with their interest and value.-Protestant Episcopal Quarterly Review.
To the illustration of this most interesting period Mr. Motley has brought the
matured powers of a vigorous and brilliant mind, and the abundant fruits of pati,t and judicious study and deep reflection.  The iessilt is, one of the most
important contributions to historical literature that have been made in this country.-North Ameritcan Review.
We would conclude this notice iy earnestly recommending our readers to procuire for themselves this truly great and admirable work, by tihe production of
which the auther has conferred no less honor upon his country than ihe has won
praise and fame for himself, and than which, we call assure them, they can find
ansthing more attractive or interesting within the compass of modern literature.
-Evangelical Review.
It is not often that we have the pleasure of commending to the attention of tihe
lover of books a work of such extraordinary and unexceptionable excellence as
this one.-Universalist Quarterly Review.
There are an elevation and a classic polish in these volumes, and a felicity of
groupinig and of portraiture, which invest the subject with the attractions of a
living and stirring episode in the grand historic drama.-Southera Methodist
Quarterly Review.
The author writes with a genial glow and love of his subject.-Presbyterian
Q carterly Review.
M.r. Motley is a sturdy Republican and a hearty Protestant.  HIis style is lively and picturesque, and his work is an honor and an important accession to our
national literature.-Church Review.
Mr. Motley's work is an important one, the result of profound research, sincere
convictions, sound principles, and manly sentiments; and even those who are
most familiar with the history of the period will find in it a fresh and vivid addition to their previous knowledge. It does honor to American literature, and
would do honor to the literature of any country in the world.-Edinburgh Review.
A serious chasm in English historical literature has been (by this book) very
remarkably filled. * * * A history as complete as industry and genius can make
it'low lies before us, of the first twenty years of the revolt of the United Provices. * ** *All the essentials of a great writer Mr. Motley eminently possesses.
llis mind is broad, his industry unwearied.  In pow(e  of dramatic description
(- moAlern historian, except, perhaps, Mr. (arlyle, surpae:e, iss, and in antalys iJf charater he is eabhosate and distinct.-We -stmi,ter R.eview.