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BY A VOL UNTEER.

"TO KNOW
THAT WHICH BEFOHE US LIES IN DAILY LIFE,
IS.THE PSIilE -WISDOM."— MILTOX

MONTPELIER:
FBINTXD FOB THE AUTHOB BT E. r. WALTON.
1861.

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1864,
BY E. F. PALMER,
in the Clerk's office of the Circuit Court of the United
States for the District of Vermont.

PREFACE.

How the Nine Months' Men fared, that
went from Vermont ; how they felt ; and what
they did : — these it has been the intention of
the writer to present ; and, not to make any
0'«6 man a hero, but to give Camp Life as he
saw it.
With great diffidence, yet not without
some hope of meeting the approval of his com
rades, who endured privations so patiently,
and fought so bravely for their country, does
the author publish this little volume, — think
ing that, when peace shall have been establish
ed, and the young men of the Second Brigade
shall have grown venerable in age, possibly a
perusal of these hastily written pages may re
vive some sweet (I hope not sad) memories of
the camp and the field.
The Author.
Waitsfield, Vt., December, 1863. [3]

Mu ^umi

CHAPTER I.

" From the gray sire, -whose trembling hand
Could hardly buckle on his brand,
To the raw boy -whose shaft and bo-w
Were yet scarce terror to the cro-w.
Each valley, each sequestered glen,
Mustered its little horde of men,
That met as torrents from the height
In highland dales their streams unite,
Still gathering, as they pour along
A voice more loud, a tide more strong,
Till at the rendezvous they stood
By hundreds, prompt for blows and blood."
' Walter Scott.
The last day of September, 1862, the Thir
teenth Vermont Regiment went into camp at
Brattleboro'. The frost had come and turned
the green leaves to a golden yellow, just so as
to remind one that autumn was near by. The
great battle of Antietam had just been fought,
and high were the hopes of the people,^even
that McClellan would force Lee rapidly back
and capture Richmond. His army, is so far
North it must be annihilated, and hence the
rebel capital captured. [5]

6 THE SECOND BRIOADE ;
Some in their enthusiasm fancied that we
should never be ordered from the State. On
the same day we received two blankets each ;
one made of hair, to throw around us when
sleeping ; the other of oil-cloth, to protect us
from the storm. At six o'clock we ate. Our
meal was made of wheat bread, cold beef and
coffee. The first night our company had three
candles, which, by cutting them into two or
three pieces, lighted the barracks very well.
The barracks are seventy-four by twenty-two
feet, occupied by a hundred men. At half-past
eight the roll is called ; at nine the order is
given — " No talking." This is not heeded.
As soon as the officer retires, some show their
skill by cackling like the rooster ; others imi
tate feline, canine and taurine animals all at
once. Bunks have been prepared to sleep on.
These, made of planed boards, six and a half
by four and a half feet, hold two soldiers each,
and are two stories high. A little straw is
brought to put in them ; but it was our fortune
to get none. So we made many turns during
the night — first on one side, then on the other
— " sweet sleep" not deigning to visit us.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 7
Oct. 1. — The morning came foggy, drizzly.
The boys spend the most of the day in making
their barracks more comfortable — nailing nar
row pieces of boards on the cracks. We suc
ceeded in getting a little more straw ; also a
stove, just before night, by carrying it a mile
on a wheel-barrow, through the mud and rain.
The boys give three cheers for the stove, and
the same number for those that got it. We are
soon sitting around a good fire — some talking,
some laughing, 'some smoking, others singing;
all ia good spirits. Our meals are made of
wheat bread, cold beef, potatoes and coffee.
Eight are detailed to act as guards, who are
stationed around camp, and allow no soldier
to go out unless he has a pass signed by his
captain or colonel.
Oct. 2. — Rainy and foggy. No drilling
through the day ; but just before evening the
clouds break away, and we had our first dress
parade. It has been arranged that the com
panies may draw the raw materials and do
their own cooking. Three cooks are appoint
ed in each company, and they store away the
fresh beef, bread, sugar, rice and beans in a
shanty of rough boards. Four or five camp

8 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
kettles have been furnished us for boiling cof
fee, meat, &c., and each soldier with a tin
plate, cup, canteen, knife and fork. These
form the soldier's culinary implements. After
dark, I was attracted to the bright fires blaz
ing by the side of each of the barracks. A
ditch five or six feet long, two wide, one deep,
is dug in the ground ; wood thrown in ; fires
started, and the kettles steaming over these.
The cooks are making their first attempts at
cooking, who were as ignorant of the art as
we of the military ; neither knowing anything
of either. The former, do doubt, had seen his
mother boil beef and beans ; we, in our child
hood, had witnessed a June training.
Oct. 3. — Morning rainy. About nine
o'clock the sun shines out. We drill awhile,
and then draw our guns — the Springfield rifles,
and gun equipments. In the afternoon, bat
talion drill. As fate would have it, my com
pany, owing to some tardiness in the morning,
is sent to clear the old camp ground of the
Tenth and Eleventh Regiments. A meaner
task was never imposed on Hercules. Filth !
filth ! rubbish of every description, and a mim
ic forest of pine to remove. Now you see a

OR, CAMP LIFE. 9
half dozen soldiers around one tree, lifting this
way, that way — but it clings with great tena
city to the sandy earth. " By  , I did'nt
enlist to clear land for Uncle Sam," says one;
they give it up ; chop it down — drag it off; now
the same number filling a sink — sweet work, I
tell you ; one is levelling the land with the
spade ; four or five are carrying off old boards ;
away on the plain the regiment is drilling for
the first time with their bright rifles. In this
way we toiled — some sweating, swearing', fum
ing, none in the best of humor — till near dark,
when we returned ; ate a meal of beans in the
open air, and then turned into the barracks for
the night — thinking that the sons of Mars had
been insulted, to be set at such work. The
next day was beautiful as the former ones hafl
been stormy ; and lovely as an autumn day
can be. Company and battalion drill, dress
parade, sweeping the barracks and the grounds
about them with brush brooms made of pine,
filled the slow passing hours.
Oct. 5. — First sabbath iu camp. But how
unlike a New England sabbath ! No church
bell do we hear ; but " sonorous metal blow
ing martial sounds ;" no neatly dressed peo-

10 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
pie, winding their way to the chapel ; but
yonder weary sentinels, with the night's dew
still glittering like pearls on the bright bayon
ets, are pacing to and fro : "Halt, halt," one
cries ; a soldier approaches, shows his pass, and
out he goes. Here the cooks are cutting off
beef, or dealing out beans to the boys as they
come along,by twos, and coffee, never colored
by milk ; anon the drum beats, and the ser
geants start off with their men for guard-
mounting. By ten o'clock comes " Sunday
morning" inspection, hated by all the boys.
This one throws down his pen ; that one, his
daily, or a testament that a pious sister gave
him ere he started from home ; a third has
been dozing on his bunk ; a fourth takes a
long, hesitating suck at his fragrant pipe and
carefully places it in one of his many pockets ;
but all hurriedly throw on their equipments,
and with guns form the line, to be looked over
by officers, for the most part, as ignorant as
themselves of the etiquette of Mars. Straight
way come religious services. All must attend.
The regiment forms a square ; and to the
soldiers, in various positions, standing, sitting,
lying down, the chaplain expatiates on the

OR, CAMP LIFE. 11
temptations of those that go to the war. Now
come a few hours rest, and then evening,
the shadows lengthening eastward. Ou the
thinly grassed plain in front of the barracks
are many soldiers, strolling arm in arm. See
them, different in mind as in form or feature.
One, sad, shows me a letter, scarcely dry from
the tears of his wife at home ; another, a fiery
nature, tells over the Kansas forays ; the
Nebraska iniquity ; the wrongs inflicted on
Northern men ; the firing on Fort Sumpter ;
the great uprising in the North. " The Fed
eral government is saved. Slavery is destroy
ed. McClellan will have annihilated Lee's
army before we reach the field. The war will
have been closed ere the sun shall make anoth
er circuit," he says. A few hours more, a
third comes along, and laughing, " Have an
an apple. Sergeant," and tells how he ran the
guard, and " hooked the old man's fruit down
by the river." Still a fourth, a sly one, has
overheard the countersign, and so he gets out;
but at nine the countersign is changed to catch
the rogues ; and, " poor Jim, you are shut out,
and the heavy dew on your coat and cap, the
next morning, tells that you were poorly hous-

12 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
ed last night;" and away on the right (of ths
regiment) is a prayer meeting. Thus the day
and "evening went. The next was a busy,
noisy day. Fifty men are detailed to work on
the barracks, for a new regiment that came in
after dark, amid cheers and martial music.
There 's the usual drilling fore and afternoon ;
and wheat bread, cold beef and coffee — with
now and then a change to rice or beans ; and
occasionally an old farmer makes us a visit
with his milk cart, who always goes back with
empty cans. Cadets — no doubt adepts — drill
ed the officers, and they, in turn, the next
hour, disposed of their newly gained knowl
edge to the privates. The next two days are
similar as to weather ; or what we did, or ate ;
save on the first day we escorted one regiment
out— and on the second, one into camp. The
sun rises bright on the frostbitten forests, and
the fields white with dewdrops. But ere Aurora
scatters her pearls, the drums have broken the
silence, and ihe sergeants are shouting to the
top of their voices " Fall in ! fall in, compa
ny." There is a stirring among the boys.
They roll over ; rub their sleepy eyes ; start
up ; put on their coats and boots — those that

OR, CAMP LIFE. 13
do not sleep with them on; — stumble out ofthe
. barracks into line, and answer to their names.
The day has commenced. The drum beats for
sweeping the ground and barracks ; for break
fast ; for the sergeant to take the sick to the
surgeon ; for guard-mounting ; for company
drill ; for dinner ; for battalion drill ; for
dress parade, the evening meal, the roll-
call at night; and tattoo, at half past eight,
blows out the lights. The boys, rolled in their
blankets, are lying in their straw bunks, and
the day is ended. In the afternoon of the next
day, we are inspected by the governor and ad
jutant general, with knapsacks, haversacks and
all on, for the first time. Around we go, each
carrying from thirty to fifty pounds — swaying
this way and that way, especially as we wheel.
One jogs his neighbor, and he his, the momen
tum increasing as the jogging passes along, till
the left of the companies is quite broken. The
knapsack don't hang quite easy. It is the first
time. Now you see one of the weaker ones —
his head half down to his knees — raising it
higher on his shoulders ; half are getting them
in new positions. An old soldier that moves
with such steadiness, though he has been through

14 THE SECOND BRIGADE ;
the same process, would smile and mutter
" You'll lighten those knapsacks before you
march far." But is it strange ? The farmer
is made lame the first day he mows. Can the
scholar or merchant use the sickle or swing the
scythe ? Are they poor soldiers ? I saw them
nine months later moving steadier on Cemetery
Hill amid a storm black with bursting shells to
a place abandoned by an old regiment ; I saw
them a few hours later, when our thinned and
shattered ranks were giving way, charge down
the plain a hundred rods in front, and capture
eight cannon from, the foe ; I saw tliem on the
third of July, long ere the sun had risen, roused
from sleeping on their guns, by liostile cannon,
in the front line of battle, till nine o'clock at
night, withstanding the furioiH- onslaughts of
the enemy, till they were rolled in frightful
heaps, and not a man breathed in their front,
that dared to flaunt a rebel flag in their faces,
and now he, who looks upon the tattered ban
ner they bore on that victorious day, may read
"Gettysburg" inscribed for their s^ignal bravery.
" Never was horde of tyrants met
With bloodier welcome — never yet
To patriot vengeance hath the sword
More terrible libations poured."

OB, CAMP LIFE. 15
Oct. 10. — On the 10th we were mustered
into the U. S. service, and save a few pugna
cious sons of Erin, who are easily " persuad
ed" when they find themselves surrounded by
a dozen huge, armed men from another compa
ny, all take the oath of allegiance cheerfully
and enthusiastically.
Oct. 11. — The next morning, dark and
cloudy. There is tumult all over camp. Sol
diers are hurrying to and fro with more
than common anxiety in their faces. Squads
are here and there talking. You go into the
barracks ; the knapsacks are all packed ; the
haversacks filled with two days' rations — wheat
bread and boiled beef. Citizens, fathers,
mothers, brothers and sisters, who have come
a long way, are there too. They have sober
faces. They speak wiih trembling lips. They
shed tears They shake hands, and say " God
be wilh you !" We are off to the South.

v-XcjS^i

CHAPTER II.
Oct. 12. — If, indeed, it were necessary, to
portray camp life, to describe the places
through which a regiment passes, it is impossi
ble for a soldier to do it, as night rarely puts
an end to his travelling :
"War and chase.
Give little choice of resting place."
He but gets a glance of the spires and con
spicuous objects in great cities, and the smaller
towns fly from his memory as from his vision.
He is no traveller in the popular sense of the
word. He sees things as one the moon when
broken clouds are flying by it — a view for a
moment and it is gone. It is approaching
noon. A long line of cars is lying near the
depot and the engine is steaming up. Our
friends had gone home in the morning. A few
citizens had gathered around, and spake words
of sympathy. But no, we want none ; we
need none ; the mind is made up. " We are
2 [17]

18 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
bound for Dixie," shout a dozen jolly fellows,
as they ascend the car steps ; " John Brown's
knapsack is strapped upon his back," sing
half the company ; and the iron wheels begin
to rattle, and the engine to scream. As we
pass down the beautiful valley of the Connecti
cut river, the fishermen in their little boats
take off their hats ; the farmers in the fields,
too, show their sweaty brows and raise their
sickles ; the women and children flutter their
handkerchiefs from the windows and doors of
the white cottages, and the boys are sure to
return the compliment to smiling faces, by a
wave of the hand from the car windows. The
people of Northampton loaded us with the best
of apples and cakes. We reach and leave
New Haven, on a large steamer, a little before
midnight, and at daybreak find ourselves at
Jersey City. Though not half had ever been on
the water before, after a little observation,
sleep overcomes curiosity, nor stars, nor moon,
nor splashing waves, or anything connected
with the sea, nor thought of friends behind,
were much to us.
Oct. 18, — The morning is cold and windy.
Soup — "swill" soup, — and "slop" coffee, is fur-

OR, OAMP LIFE. 19
nished us in large barrels, I dare say, that
never have been washed since Fort Sumpter was
fired upon, at which my stomach at once re
volted, and, though prodigal sure, I had not
been from home long enough to "feed on the
husks of swine," and so had recourse to the
better contents of my haversack. By half past
nine the cars are bearing us towards Philadel
phia, and by the middle of the afternoon the
discharge of a cannon announces our approach
to the latter city. The people, as is their cus
tom to all the regiments that pass through their
city, gave us a good meal of wheat bread,
butter, cheese, meat and coffee, and did us all
the honor and every kindness in their power ;
and long after, when in the field, the boys oft
en spake of the good people of this city and
Northampton. It is Sabbath, and hun
dreds throng the streets at our departure.
Although Antietam had been fought, hardly
had they recovered from the excitement
caused by the invasion of Lee, and anx
iously were they looking for McClellan to
pounce upon him in his retreat. The next
morning, a little after two, we find our
selves winding the streets of Baltimore in a

20 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
furious storm of rain. Here and there a pale
light glimmers through the closed shutters, and
though weary and sleepy, the firing on the
Massachusetts soldiers occurs to our mind,
and we almost find ourselves soliloquizing,
"Won't they give us a similar welcome?"
Morning comes to our no little delight. Bread,
ham and coffee is our breakfast. Soon the
dirty cars are slowly trundling on to the
Capital, at which place, after many halts,
we arrived the middle of the afternoon. Sol
diers are strung along to guard the railroad
from Baltimore to Washington. As the cars
halt we look for the marble capitol ; we see a
long line of poor mules mounted by negroes,
who are lashing them terribly, as I fancied ihey
ha^ been ere they were " contrabands ;" we
look again for the home of " Uncle Abe" —
alas! that a numerous herd of swine rooting
in the mud should meet our eyes. We give it
up ; follow the regiment to the barracks near
the depot ; throw off the knapsack ; and, sit
ting on it, address a few short letters to our
friends. Supper a little before dark, at the
Soldier's Retreat — bread, raw ham and coffee.
Before nine o'clock many a one has scribbled

OR, OAMP LIFE. 21
a line to his friends, at which time the lights
are extinguished, and soon a thousand men
are snoring side by side on the dirty floor.
The next morning — no breakfast. A little be
fore noon we are marched to our camp ground
on East Capitol Hill ; and here we remained,
standing, lying on the ground, impatiently
waiting, when we receive the shelter tants just
before dark. These are made of cotton cloth,
and five feet square. Each has one piece.
Two, and sometimes four, are buttoned togeth
er ; then suspended on three guns, in the cen
tre, with the corners fastened to the ground
with picket sticks. This is the airy dormitory
of four, who lie in pairs — the feet of the first
at the heads of the second. Meanwhile our
faithful cooks have started fires and furnish
ed us with coffee, and the commissary with
bread. j^
Oct. 15. — Early the white terij;s disappear
all ovei camp, as the guns aretfeeded, blank
ets rolled and tied to the^ knapsacks. Brig
ade review in the afternoon — four regiments.
As we march, counter-march and wheel over
the broad plain — new work all — strange posi
tions all — more than one muiters " This knap-

^2 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
sack !" " Why carry it on this review ?"
¦" What good !" But it is ended. That's the
best part of it. We return, eat a meal of
beans, rear our tents in parallel rows, hang
the rubber up at one end to break the wind
off, light the candle, stick it in the bayonet
and this in the ground,, and pass the time as
best we can till tattoo. General Orders No. 1
is read to each of the companies, making our
duties similar to those before we left the State.
At eight o'clock a prayer meeting.
Oct. 16. — Like the day before.
Oct. 17. — A lovely, autumn day ; the air
pure ; the sky cloudless. In the forenoon
squad and company drills ; in the afternoon
battalion. The A tents have been furnished
us ; much delighted to exchange them for the
¦little ones. One, covering a little more than
six feet square when pitched, is allowed five.
Oct. 18. — Five in one tent six feet square 1
We lie down on the same side, either right or
left, parallel ; as one turns all must. Most
of the forenoon is spent in cleaning the grounds
with spades, and brush brooms made of cedar.
In the afternoon brigade review — six regiments
And two Massachusetts batteries. Generals

OR, CAMP LIFE. 23
Banks and Casey are present. You see many
whispering in an undertone, " Which is he ?"
" Which is Banks ?" As they ride by, in front
-and rear, many turn their heads, squinting over
the shoulder to see them. When the review
is over, we march to General Casey's head-
•quarters, on the opposite side of the city. The
boys are tired, and think they have marched
ten miles. We know nothing about marching
in a brigade. We are now at a slow pace,
now rapid, now running ; here's one that's
stubbed his toe and stumbled his whole length,
causing laughter ; there are several on the
side- walk leaning against the posts ; many are
changing their guns from one shoulder to the
other. I hear one expressing himself, with not
a few gesticulations, in this wise : " I have a
far less opinion of our Generals than befpre.
Why all this ? Is it for a show? Wh/is Lee
suffered to escape uninjured? For eighteen
months the war has proceeded, and how
much have we gained ? Richmond ? No.
The destruction of their armies ? How long
since they chased, ours across the Potomac ?
I hear it whispered that we are going into win
ter quarters, to freeze in the barracks about

24 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
Washington. Why don't they send us to the
old army, to spend our strength in conquering
the rebels ?" and many such. Others tell him
that it is his part to obey, and not to command
or criticise. But a Yankee, that has been a
soldier only six weeks, has hardly lost his love
for knowing the whys and wherefores.
Oct. 19. — Sabbath, warm, sunny. We are
relieved from duties, so that we are reminded it
is no week day. A refreshing breeze bears the
mingling sounds of a dozen church bells from
the city. How solemn ! Wo forget our work,
read a psalm, or some verses in the Testament,
think of home and the tones of the old village
church bell as they come up from the valley,
to tell us of the hour of meeting.
Oct. 20 — The names of those that are to
be guards are read off the night before. Last
night my name was in the list. Morning came,
and with it the various rounds of duties, reveil
le, roll-call, hanging up the things in the
tents, policing the grounds, washing, breakfast,
squad drill, then guard-mounting. A hundred
and ten privates, six corporals, three sergeants,
one lieutenant, have been detailed to guard the
camp. This is their duty tw«nty-four hours.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 25
They are divided into three reliefs, each on
two hours, off four. None but privates walk
the beats, which are from four to ten rods. The
•corporals run at their calls. Strange did it
seem at first to be awake at midnight, hearing
a half dozen screaming " corporal of the guard.
No. 1," or 5, as it may be. Two large tents is
the guard-house. As night grows darker and
colder, the dew heavier, a whole relief, thirty-
three, crowd into them, some standing, some
lying parallel, others horizontal on the legs of
the first tier. Towards midnight faces grow
sober. "This is pretty raw," says one ; " little
tough," another ; " one must be drunk or mad,"
continues a third, "to enlist." But as the sun
returns, with it smiling faces and good feelings.
"Soldiering is not very hard after all," say the
same. " Not half as hard as I thought it," <tc.
Till the 25th the history of one dayis of the
others. Camp quiet. At five, the drummers
and fifers, whilst the stars stiU shine, march
around camp, beating thej^rums. Sleep is
frightened from every -^e ; a stir, a bustle in
every tent. The boys creep out with their
woolen night-caps on, and attend roll-call.
Then som^''go back, wrap themselves in the
3

26 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
blankets, and await the coming day; others
laughing, talking, smoking, sit around the
cook-stand, where the cooks are preparing
breakfast, somewhat to the annoyance of the
latter. The boys come along in two ranks, to
get their food. Various remarks. This one
would like a " little more variety ;" that one
" wouldn't look at it at home ;" this one
"don't fancy mule beef;" but most think it
as good as the government can furnish, and
approvingly point to the increase of their
weight since they left home. Lately the dust
has become almost intolerable. The wind
plays with it as fine snow in the winter. As
we go and return from the plain sometimes you
cannot see the length of the company, thick
clouds of dust filling the eyes, and each one
Iqoking like one that's threshing grain. —
Whilst on Capitol Hill, five soldiers from each
company arc permitted to go to the city a
day. On the 22d, after getting a pass signed
by the captain, colonel and brigadier general,
we started at ten to return at five P. M. for
dress parade. The streets are patrolled by
soldiers, but no one asked us for our pass.
Two hours at the Patent Office ; two hours

OR, CAMP LIFE. 27
at the Smithsonian Institute ; a glance at the
President's house ; a stroll through the capa
cious Capitol. Who from reading the title of
a book would essay the critique ? nor will we
to describe those places. But many soldiers
are in the Capitol, who move about as if they
were on their own farm.
I hear arguing in this wise : " We've as
much right here as anybody ; Abe Lincoln
has no more. We arc freeborn Americans,
and have come here to defend our own proper
ty. It is now no use to ask ' Who caused the
war? ' But talk it as it is, both are to blame.
The sun over the equator sends its rays not so
obliquely as at the poles. This beautiful struc
ture stands on the line between us and Dixie.
Now when men come here, they should lean
neither way. But, Tom, the South leaned a
little the most — a little too much, and when wo
sought to make them go straight, they pushed
us off and fired on our forts and stole our
iioods. There are little fishes in one of the
caves of Kentucky, where the bright light of
the sun never penetrates, that have no eyes, or
even sockets for them. The Southern herd,
and not a few in the North, are like them—

28 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
born and bred in the den of slavery, they know
not what liberty is, and have no love for it.
And as I look on these empty seats, and think
how the politicians have inflamed them against
us, I grow mad, madder even than in the fight,
and wish them, if nothing worse, banished from
the land. One thing we'll do, Tom, if we sur
vive these troubles and ever turn our steps home
ward. Not a man shall enter these halls, that
loves not his whole country, who will not
strike down Csesar, or let Ceesar live, which
ever will save Rome ; that is, who will not
strike down slavery or let slavery live, which
ever will save the Republic."
Oct. 25. — Saturday, warm, dry, dust flying,
and making everybody uncomfortable. In the
forenoon battalion drill ; the afternoon is for the
soldier to wash himself and clothes. Accord
ingly we started, not with gun or spade, but
the last week's shirt, towel and soap under the
arm, and found a plenty of water, better than
it looked, after wading out from the muddy
bank of the Potomac. Two Irishmen express
ed it about as it was, standing in as much mud
as water : " By jabers, Jamie, this washin' I
don't like." " In faith, no don't I, Pat, but

OR, CAMP LIFE. 29
the washin' is better than the varmin — and I
catch two louse on me to-day."
Oct. 26. — It is the Sabbath, but no Sabbath
to us. Last night one of the soldiers died, the
first in our regiment. His body is sent home
to his friends. Sadness came over all, longer
than when deaths came more frequent. By
eight o'clock it begins to rain. Soon the dry,
mealy dust is laid, and the water is gathering
in the lowest places. Now the boys, with have-
locks and rubbers on, are creeping out of their
tents, scrabbling after the spades and pickaxes,
to turn the water from their little domains, on
which it is beginning to encroach most ruth
lessly. It pours down all day. Just before
night, I, with another one, start after some
straw to lie on, as we have nothing but a few
cedar boughs to sleep on, and these are very
wet. We plod on through the mud till we
come to a stack of cornstalks. The owner
remonstrates : " My horse has nothing else to
eat." " And we've nothing else to lie on."
"But do you see I've not right smart of
stalks ?" " Do you see how the water is run
ning under our tents ?" "I swear, I'm as loy
al a man as in New England, and my horse

30 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
will starve." But he finally admitted that it is
a hard case, gave us what we could carry, and
would take nothing for it. But woe on the
poor horse if the man told the truth ; for when
the boys saw us returning, it Avas as when a
bee comes back to his cell, well laden from a
piece of new-found honey ; in a moment it is
covered with the begging tribe. We spread
the dry stalks over the bottom of the tent, the
rubbers over these, and at nine lie down in a
very comfortable condition. At one o'clock at
night, the rain has not ceased at all and a chil
ly wind is howling among the swinging tents
— a corporal comes to me with " Holloa there,
you take the place of a sick man on guard !"
Soon my boots, coat, rubber, havelock are on,
and I start for the guard-house, where are
thirty men in sirailar plight. A corporal posts
us around camp, and for two hours we walk the
beats, then we go back, throw off the out-side
covering, and creep in by the side of some
sleeping comrade. The next morning is cold
and wet. Quite a number are sick. The cook
stand is flooded, so we have no coffee. By ten
the clouds break, spots of blue sky appear, to
the no little delight of we wet fellows. The

OR, CAMP LIFE. 81
boys flock together in squads and tell over
their fate. This one " was half covered with
water when he awoke ;" another " would have
drowned, but his head laid on his knapsack."
The Sixteenth Regiment came into camp a
little before dark, hungry. We divided our
bread, beef and coffee with them. They knew
it was the best we had, and cheered us as loud
and hearty as if we had spread the viands of
kings before them.
Oct. 28. — The usual round of duties.
Oct. 29. — In the afternoon the first lieuten
ant of my company died of typhoid fever. We
are excused from all- duties through the day.
Suddenly and sadly his death falls upon us.
We meet and vote to pay his expenses, and
send his body home embalmed ; and pass
resolutions expressive of our grief; and tender
our sympathies to his friends. At nine o'clock
at night orders came that we must have our
knapsacks packed, haversacks filled with two
days' rations, and be ready to start at eight in
the morning. Where are we going ? This is
the question.

^--icai:^*-'-^^

CHAPTER III.
'Tis nine o'clock. The drum beats " to
strike tents." The cotton city falls, unlike
ancient Thebes, fabled to have risen at the
sound of the lyre. At eleven we have just
crossed the Long Bridge, and rest half an hour
on the banks of the river. " Lay there, will
you ?" said the soldier by my side, as he hur
riedly throws the stuffed knapsack on the
ground, and casts revengeful looks upon it, as
if the inanimate thing was conscious of what
he was saying. And he intends that it shall be,
for ere he has ceased berating " Uncle Sam's
little trunk," he is sitting on it, and continually
adding to his weight by devouring large pieces
of bread and meat from his haversack, which
is now on the ground between his feet. The
half hour is soon up, and we start. For what
place, and for what object ? I don't know.
A dozen have already asked me that question,
and only one reply — •" I don't know." In
[33]

34 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
two hours we rest again, marching westerly.
We continue our course, passing soldiers en
camped here and there, earthworks and can
non, till about four o'clock, when we halt in a
piece of woods, and the colonel begins to look
for a good camp ground. The spot selected
is a fine one, though covered with brush, sur
rounded on all sides with an oak forest save
the one fronting the east. It is between two
hills — quite romantic, and a pure stream of
water runs through the little vale. The boys
are soon clearing the grounds, as farmers in
new countries, cutting, picking, burning brush.
We had marched slow, and the teams were but
little behind us, 'but we did not get our tents
pitched, and pine brush cut to lie on, till after
dark. There is no drilling the next day, but
clearing the camp ground. All are well pleas
ed with the situation and hope to remain for
some time.
Nov. 1. — Early, orders came to be ready for
brigade review. Accordingly we rub the rust
from our guns, the dust from our clothes, and
start at the appointed time. We have gone
but a mile, when higher orders come for us to
countermarch, return to camp and get ready

OR, CAMP LIFE. 85
for a move. As we reach camp, the colonel
tells us to pack only such things as we actually
need, and throw the rest away. The boys be
gin to ask, " Where are we going ?" Some
say this way and some that way. By noon the
things are all packed, the sick cared for, the
tents " struck," and we are off at a rapid pace.
'Tis hot as summer. The sweat runs down the
red faces as rain. Two miles, thank heaven !
and a rest, for I came near " giving out ;"
two miles more, and a second rest ; two more,
the sun is going down, and we are pitching
our fly-tents, a mile south of Alexandria. Re
ports say the enemy are near. Two companies
are sent out as pickets. The rest of us sleep
finely till morning, with only the rubber be
tween us and the ground.
Nov. 2. — Sabbath morning. How long we
remain here, or where we are going, no one
knows. The first thing, we start fires, boil
coffee in our little cups, and eat breakfast. At
nine o'clock we start again, and march a mile
and a half through a hilly country, covered
with underbrush, then halt and begin to clear
the ground for encampment. The boys cut
down the large trees ; pull up the smaller ;

36 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
scrape off the leaves, brush, and burn them.
Just before we are ready to pitch the tents,
orders came to " quit work and leave the
ground." Of course the soldiers are not in the
best of humor. To spend three hours work in
cutting, pulling little trees, scraping the ground
with bare hands, to get a place to lie on, and
then leave it, is not much to the taste of a
Yankee, who, when he works, would like to
know the reason for it. " Why this ?" "What
next?" "For heaven's sake, where are we
going ?" " Does the general know, himself ?"
These queries rise in every mind, and some
find vent. But in a short time the reason of
this is known. The man, owning the land,
wavering between loyalty and disloyalty, whose
property is guarded by a Union soldier, order
ed us off. But arrangements are soon made
with the manor lord, and we remain.
Nov. 3. — We spend the day in pitching the
A tents (the teams had not reached us the day
before,) and policing the camp. Five compa
nies are sent out three miles in advance as
pickets ; nine remained in camp. The next
two days are about the same ; no drilling, no
reviews. Some are beginning to amuse them-

OR, CAMP LIFE. 37
selves by whittling rings and pipes from the
laurel root. On the 4th my company elected
the third sergeant as lieutenant.
Nov. 6. — It begins to be evident what our
work is to be, for a few days at least — picket
ing and building new forts around Alexandria.
Five Vermont regiments form the brigade, and
are encamped near each. One hundred and
thirty are detailed from our regiment to work
on Fort Lyon, large, and about half finished.
We leave camp at seven in the morning, and
start to return at four P. M. The men are
busy during this time, with spades and pickax
es, save an hour at noon, when they ate four
*' hardtacks" each. We are digging a wide
and deep ditch about the fort. The ground is
so hard that none of it can be shovelled before
picking. We remove five thousand eight
hundred and thirty-two feet. We go back
to camp feeling like day laborers ; but the toil
had sharpened our appetites, and never did
epicure sit down to his chosen dish with such
zest as we to our plate of beans and pork.
Nov. 7. — The morning is cold and windy.
By eight o'clock it begins to snow, quite large
and frequent drops. The soldiers are disap-

38 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
pointed, not expecting it so early in the year,
and then their tents are not fitted for it — no
fires in them, except the commissioned officers'.
They have small stoves carried on the wagons.
Snow and sleet fall all day, and by night it is
five inches deep. Soon the boys are stirring,
to get fires in their tents some way ; for they
fairly shiver in them, and it is too stormy for
drills, or work on the forts, or any duty save
guard or picket, which knows no storms, no
Sabbaths, no nights. Every soldier turns ma
son, and they make little fire-places out of
stone or brick, which they have brought half a
mile from an old camp ground, on their backs.
They dig a channel under the tent, some three
feet long ; brick up the sides ; cover these
with flat stones or pieces of iron ; and at the
end for a chimney. Some of these worked
finely ; others smoked iutolerably. Now you
see the boys, tears streaming from their eyes,
coming out of their tents, the smoke rolling
after them. They get wood from the sur
rounding forest. Slowly the day wears away,
but not a murmuring lip. Early the hospital,
two large tents, where there is a fire and room
for twenty-five or thirty soldiers, is crowded.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 39
and many a sick one shivers in his thin tent,
through the door of which unwelcome snow is
sifting. It freezes quite hard ; but the sun
returns fair, warm, and before night the snow
has nearly disappeared. There is no drilling,
as if we had suffered enough the day before.
Nov. 9. — Sabbath. No religious services,
as the chaplain has gone home on account of
his sick friends. The boys write home, almost
an hundred letters going from each company ;
and nothing delights them more than to get an
answer in return. War is barbarous, and
thank heaven for the art of printing and writ
ing, by which the thoughts of the dead are
preserved, and distance is nothing, that we
may converse with friends. For the solid
granite is worn away by the dropping of water,
and is it strange that the human soul is warp
ed by constant exijosure to the fires of evil ?
Nov. 10, 11. — -All are in doubt how long
we remain here, though the colonel says that
we have been ordered to build log huts for
winter quarters as soon as we can get saws,
hammers and a plenty of axes. But the great
army under- Burnside to the west of us, is ad
vancing, and none believe we shall spend the

40 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
winter here. It is how already known that
HcClellan is removed from his command.
His admirers talk something in this way : —
" How long will the administration pursue this
vacillating course? How long will fanatical
politicians be suffered to make and unmake
our generals ? Who has done so much as Mc
Clellan ? has been so brave on the field, so
wise in counsel, so deaf to faction, so true to
his country ? Who but he drove the enemy from
Western Virginia ? Who but he saved the
Capital ? Who but he forced the rebels back
from Yorktown to Richmond ? and what but
the treason of McDowell, or the hellish in
trigues of demagogues, prevented its capture ?"
And his opponents thus : " Saved the Capital !
when he wouldn't go to Pope's rescue last Au
gust, as his shattered army was staggering
back to Washington, from blows dealt by reb
els that escaped from his own front. None
done so much as he ! when he left the foe
where he found them ? None so brave on the
field ! when he was never under fire ? so wise
in counsel ! when he quarrelled with the ven
erable Scott ? so deaf to faction ! when his
political friends are crying ' Peace '? so true

OR, CAMP LIFE. 41
to his country ! when his country has lavished
everything upon him, and he has done noth
ing in return. This is the humbug McClel
lan," These are the two extremes ; but by
far the greater part care, not so much who
leads them, as that he, who does, shall lead
them to victory.
To the 17th one day is like the other — for
drills and little guarding ; but all are busy,
building the barracks. These are ninety-four
by fifteen feet for each company, " A lodge
of ample size," Each company builds its own,
made of oak logs, which are plastered between
with mud, and the covering is dirt. They are
also banked up. There are several partitions
in each, and in each room quite a large fire
place. They all run parallel with a street a
rod wide. This is the plan, but slowly the work
progresses, for we have but few axes ; some
chop down the trees ; others split them, and
still others draw them to the spot. On the 17th
two hundred and fifty are detailed as pickets,
to remain two days on the line. They start
off with guns, equipments, blankets and haver
sacks. The camp is quite lonely, and there
are a thousand rumors — a few raore than usual.
4

42 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
Now we are going farther South ; now a great
battle is raging somewhere, sometimes we, and
then the foe are routed ; now our army will
winter around Richmond, then it will go into
winter quarters on the Potomac ; now England
will recognize the South at once ; and finally
the coming Congress will compromise the whole
thing. They came back on the 19th, and
whiled the afternoon away, in telling how they
made their houses of cedar boughs ; how they
stopped every body unless they had a pass,
and sent them back muttering ; how this one
chased a rebel cow, and filled his canteen with
milk ; how this one made a visit to a rebel
hen-roost, and had a chicken for supper ; and
how Tom cried " Halt" three times in the
dead of night, and " in a half second more
would have fired his gun, when an old horse
turned and showed the foe had four feet."
Nov. 20. — Last night we were ordered to
be ready to start early for brigade review.
Where ? One says on Capitol Hill ; another
at Fairfax Seminary ; and still a third and
fourth have fixed on some place. It rains
hard all night. The morning is wet and fog
gy ; and there is mud in abundance. At eight

OR, CAMP LIFE. 43
we leave camp. Some of the boys have their
breeches' legs tucked into their boots ; others
have them rolled up five or six inches. Now
we are about three miles from camp, having
passed through Alexandria, a city of mud.
" Halt," " countermarch," come the orders.
The boys mutter : " this is putting down rebel
lion," — a very current expression when they
don't see things as some do that wear shoul
der-straps. But the black skies hasten our
steps, and we reach camp just in time to avoid
a furious rain storm — boots and breeches cov
ered with mud that sticks like paint.
To the 25th some work on the forts ; some
on the barracks ; and of course each day at
nine is guard-mounting. The regiments take
turn in doing picket duty. Daily we get the
mail. Doubt, as to our remaining here through
the winter, is giving way, and love bf the place
is springing up in most minds ; for there is a
stream of good water near by, and a plenty of
wood.

CHAPTER IV.
Nov. 25. — It is eight o'clock at night — dark,
pitchy dark, and raining fast. The guards,
as usual, to and fro, are pacing the trodden
beats. In each tent is a candle burning,
and around it a little squad of soldiers, all
busy ; some telling their accustomed stories ;
some smoking ; some at a game of cards ;
now a lively song entices laughter; one is
reading, another writing to his friend, with
portfolio on his knees ; perchance some weary
boy has fallen asleep, — none dreaming of
marches. Just now the colonel calls the ser
geant major : " Tell the captains that their
men must be ready to start at a moment's no
tice, with gun, equipments, forty rounds of
ammunition, blankets and rations for a day."
Ah ! now the quiet scene is shifted. See the
hurry, the bustle. The blankets, spread on
the bunks for night's repose, are rolled and
tied to the well-filled knapsacks, and haver-
[45]

46 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
sacks crowded with bread and pork. Then the
boys come forward for the death-bearing car
tridge, — many with some facetious remark :
" Pun with the rebels I reckon." " We are
good for 'em." The sick in the hospital, and
a few in each company unable to do military
duty, are left behind. A little before nine we
start, in the best of spirits, but not with a
quick step, for it is muddy, and so dark that
one can scarce see his comrade before him. On
we plod through mud and water — hitting now
this one, now that one, and in turn hit by the
same — halting once an hour for a few minutes,
and each time some fall asleep and have to be
shaken, as we start — until half past three, when
we rest in a pine grove. First we stack guns and
start fires ; then some spread their shelter tents ;
others arrange sticks of wood and lie down on
these. My bed unfortunately happens near a
pile of wood, and as often as sleep deigns to
approach my eyes, some fellow, whose fire has
burned low, comes after fuel, in a not very
ceremonious manner. Half asleep, half awake,
turning from one side to the other, — the rain
¦spattering in my face, — I lie there, occasional
ly, I fear not in the most pleasant manner, or-

OR, CAMP LIFE. 47
dering off some one stumbling about my head.
Sooner than we are rested, day returns, cold
and wet. But we have good fires, and around
each you see a squad of soldiers, from whose
blue backs steam is evaporating ; not despond
ing, but laughing over the night's march ; eat
ing bread and pork which they have roasted,
not as the followers of ^neas, " Verubusque
trementia figunt," but on peaked sticks. —
Nearly all get a little taste of sweet sleep — aye
sweet ; for sleep a soldier will, that has march
ed all night through mud or water.
At eight we begin the march again, ignorant
of our destination, and continue it until noon,
with several rests, when we halt in a pine
grove, just south of Fairfax Court House.
Here we made fires and ate our rations. Then
some, weary with the night's and forenoon's
marches, with the blankets over them, near the
fires, fall into a gentle sleep. In two hours
more we are off, and encamp near Fairfax Sta
tion, a third time in a pine grove. Here some
pitch their tents, and others make little bough-
houses of small pine trees and limbs. I, with
fifteen comrades, pass the night in one of these.
Poles are strung along from tree to tree ;

48 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
limbs, placed on the ground, lean against these,
with a similar covering to break the wind off.
In the middle is a large fire. Around this we
gather, make coffee, roast pork and eat ; then
comes smoking, story-telling, and now a song.
If one happens to be in want of anything to
eat, another is always ready to divide with
him. The fire is kept burning all night, one
tending awhile and then another. Wrapped in
our blankets we lie down, feet to the fire. At
midnight you hear the clicking of axes. Boys,
whose shins are too cold to sleep, are up re
kindling the fires that have gone out by the
few hours neglect. The next morning at eight
we continue the march, resting at noon long
enough to boil coffee in our cups of wire bales ;
now up and down little hills, now through a
forest of pine or oaks, till evening, when we
bivouac on the rough banks ofthe Bull Run,
near Union Mills. Three companies are sent
forward as pickets and stationed along the
stream. Here are a large number of earth
works and barracks, built by the enemy, and
abandoned by him, when McClellan moved the
spring before. Some go into these rough
dwellings, made of pine logs and mud, (there

OR, CAMP LIFE. 49
are places to build fires), and pass the night ;
others use the tents.
All around grass sprang up and grew most
luxuriantly during the summer months, undis
turbed by the soldiers of either side. Many
gather this for beds, softer by far than conif
erous twigs, with which the soldier commonly
covers his bunk. The engine followed us to
this point, which before had gone no farther
south than Fairfax Station, after Pope's re
treat the August before. During the next five
days our baggage — large tents, camp kettles,
— and such of the sick as are able to be moved,
arrive. Two companies a day go on picket.
The rest pass the time in stockading a little,
and discussing the object and benefit of late
moves, and of no moves, something like this :
" Only one regiment of the brigade has fol
lowed us. That we are here alone, what in
jury to the enemy or benefit to us ? What
necessity of our starting in a furious storm of
rain, at nine o'clock at night, to tramp here,
unless forsooth to give us exercise ? Sigel,
with his Germans, is at the Court House, —
back fifteen miles ; Burnside, and even Lee, is
northwest of us. There is no one to support
5

50 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
US, and we can't hold this point a single mo
ment. Indeed, does any one know by whose
order, or why, we came here at all ? Already
it is rumored, and I say with truth, that we
are going back to our old camp. This, no
doubt, will be styled a ' strategic' move. If
to wear out an army by useless marches, and
do the enemy little injury, is strategy, certain
ly the past eighteen months have called forth
the most wonderful generalship the world ever
saw." Dec. 3. — One company is on picket. Three
regiments have encamped near us. Rumor is
unusually busy. At one time we are to join
Burnside ; at another, to patrol the streets of
Washington the coming winter ; now, go with
Banks to Texas ; then, into winter quarters at
our old camp, A few spread these reports,
and none believe them.
The next morning, I, with my company, start
for the picket line along the river. This fa
mous stream, like some men, had it not been
for events that have transpired around it
would hardly have found place in print. The
sterile bluffs, running to all points of the com
pass ; rocky, so rough that you can hardly pull

OR, CAMP LIFE. 5I
yourself up, carrying a gun; covered with
•tecrubby oaks ; pines and laurel with its green,
orange-like leaves, in places, come down so
near the turbid river, that the cheerful sun is
invisible to us, save from half past nine till
half past two in the afternoon. So winding
and broken are the banks that often the pick
ets cannot see each other, whose beats are not
more than twenty-five rods apart. Travel the
stream for miles, and rarely is the diameter of
the visual circle equal to a half mile.
It is a bright, frosty morning, little crystals
hanging from every limb. During the night,
for several feet, ice gathered along the shores.
Here it is from five to ten rods wide, and ford
able in many places. Wild grapes grow in
profusion along the shores, which we thought
a great luxury. Two or three are left at a
post, and take turns in keeping watch. They
have as good a fire during the day as they
choose to build ; but a small one by night,
that cannot be seen far. Back sixty or seven
ty rods, in a thick pine forest, is the reserve,
which relieves those posted in the morning.
It is Thanksgiving in our native State, and
we had long anticipated a pleasant time ; for

[>-2 THE- SECOND BRIGADE ;
our kind friends at home had sent forward box
es well filled with things edible, as good as any
epicure could desire. These failed to reach
us, so we ate hard tack and pork, and only
laughed at our misfortune. Some, however,
lament that they are not at home to enjoy the
day. Memory takes along with herself a
pleasing train — and not least to the soldier's
heart — but as the fair, lovely forms are con
trasted with present scenes, not so pleasing as
the past, they do excite mournful emotions in
many a bosom.
" We spake of many a vanished scene,
Of what we once had thought and said.
Of what had been, and might have been,
And who has changed and who was dead."
The school with its sweet remembrance, the
church with its solemnity, the light dance, the
love and bridal scene, and the reassembling un
der the paternal roof on this anniversary ; all,
or each, are topics for this, or that one, accord
ing to the bent of mind.
Fog, rising from the valley in the morning,
passes over little hills, bends up, and soon is
flying through the jagged notches of the moun
tain, if these are not too high, and then drop

OR, CAMP IIFE. 63
by drop, on leaf and moss, it loses itself. So
some men with circumstances, according as
they are rough and difficult, go, some over,
round some, are lost in some ; others, with
steel-pointed drill and powder, start at once to
cutting a road through the mountain. Here
are a dozen good fellows, who have adopted
the Lacedemonian code : " Steal (from Dixie),
but not get found out," who are not to be bluf
fed out of a choice supper, by the mere cir
cumstance of a few miles' march. And, so
they — as they say — " Lay in a requisition in
the name of Uncle Sam," with rifle in hand,
scour the country around, and at night sit down
to their tables of " hard tack" boxes, covered
with cliickcns or turkey, or fresh pork.

CHAPTER V.
Dec. 5. — At ten o'clock every thing is ready
to start. Soldiers, with their guns, equip
ments, knapsacks, haversacks and canteens ;
boxes of cooking utensils, stoves, spades, pick
axes, officer's valises, waiters, horses, tents,
and every thing belonging to a regiment of a
thousand men, are piled on to some flat-bottom
cars. A few covered cars, with no seats, such
as drovers use in New England, to take their
herds to market, are hitched to the former, for
the weakest ones, as the march to Bull Run has
made quite a number sick. Just before leav
ing this rough place, which is covered with the
ruins of burned cars, and where you are told
that the left wing of our army rested in the
first Bull Run battle, it begins to snow and
rain. The cars move slowly over the military
road, halting sometimes for half an hour —
bearing their motley load. At four P. M.,
within about a mile of Alexandria, the boys
[55]

66 .-' THE'SECONt) BRIGADE;
are jumping off, wet to the skin, covered with
snow and soot, as the wind was right to carry
it back from the engine. We now start for
our old camp, which we so suddenly left on the
night of the 25th ult., and a little before dark,
come in sight of the half-finished barracks.
Every thing is wet, the ground is covered with
moist snow — and more is coming ; not an axe
to chop wood for a fire ; not a tent to spread,
(these had been left at the depot with the ex
pectation that they would be brought forward
by government teams, but these could not
be procured ;) the boys hungry, and but lit
tle to eat. " What shall we do ?" good-
naturedly enquired Uncle Walter. " No where
to lie, and nothing to eat." " Good that the
old women at home don't know how we are ;
for the knowing it should give our friends
more misery than we tough fellows who face
the storm." " Now here's a proverb," re
sponds Jack, who at one time is wont" to dis
tort passages of scripture ; at another he is im
provising poetry; now he is a sage, uttering
wise sayings, or preacher, terrible denuncia
tions against the wicked ; again he is general,
in deep meditation, plotting against the enemy;

OR, CAMP LIFE. 57
all feigned, but with all, his good nature, and
common sense too, make him a friend of each
soldier. " Now here's a proverb that ought to
make King Solomon and Ben Franklin blush :
A place to lie on, a fire to warm your skins
by, and enough to eat, are to be preferred to
'great riches' or a good name. And, that
you need not think me less a general than a
philosopher, let me plan a little for you.
There's a negro's shanty yonder. Some of
you lay there ; and hard by is old Johnson's
house and barn — some lay there — (yes, an old
rebel he is too. Cuss on his head ; if I was
general, he shouldn't live longer than he could
by hanging in a noose, higher than a pigeon
could fly in nine months) ; yonder is a clump
of pines — some lay there ; and some of us will
' freeze' to our brothers in the other regi
ments. Now let me close with this senti
ment : Let not a man despair ; for a brighter
sun will rise to-morrow, and our tents too ;
and in coming years, when your hairs have
grown grayer than a rat a hundred years old,
you, and you unmarried youths that never more
than threw kisses across the school house to
some bright eyed girl, will pass your peaceful

58 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
nights in telling your grand children of your
wondrous deeds in Virginny." Though Jack's
words caused less merriment than when the
boys were in better spirits, he had named the
best places for us to pass the night. But there
is little time to debate what is best. Each man
must stir and take care of himself. Soon the
whole regiment is scattered, except a few that
hang around the dismal site of the old camp
all night. As many as can, crowd into the ne
gro's shanty, and his master's house and barn,
and lie on the floor ; the pine trees shelter a
few ; and quite a number are kept by the other
regiments of the brigade. I, with twenty of
my company, go to the twelfth regiment. Col.
Blunt kindly gave us two large tents, where is
a stove, wood, and a fire already kindled. As
we enter, the boys chilly, with chattering teeth,
say, " Bully for our Lieutenant ; he cares for
us." The officer then takes six of those who
have suffered most from the storm, and calls on
Capt. Cole, his friend in college. This regi
ment had got their barracks finished. The
Captain goes to the cook shanty, raps on the
door, makes known his errand. The chief
cook, a fat, middle aged man, loudly replies :

OR, CAMP LIFE. 59
" Let them in ; we haven't denied a soldier to
night. Let them in ; we will lie in the
storm ourselves sooner than they. Come in,
boys, come in," cries the cook, as though
he meant they should. " We ha'n't all the ac
commodations, as if my wife was here ; but
we've a rousing fire, and you can lay on the
ground." Such is the case. Logs a foot
through and four feet long, with smaller wood,
are burning lustily in the large fire-place — a
most cheerful sight, more so on account of the
cold storm without. Never was hospitality
more freely given by knights or king in royal
palace, or more thankfully received, than in
that rough shanty in the woods of Virginia.
The next morning many are fed by the other
regiments. Col. Veazey gave me thirty loaves
of bread. With these under my arm, I start
for the camp, half a mile away, where we had
left our guns and knapsacks the night before,
and where all are to collect. On these the
company breakfast. The storm has ceased ;
the snow is melting under a warm sun ; but
the camp ground repels one from it. It looks
not unlike a field of ruins, — a stack of low
chimnies here ; a pile of logs there ; hard tack

60 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
boxes, pork barrels, bunks, some covered with
straw, some with browse, some partly torn
down. But by ten o'clock the tents are on the
ground, and before night are all up on the old
sites, cleaned as best we could. The boxes,
containing our Thanksgiving supper, arrive ;
and, reader, I need scarce tell you that hard
tack and pork does not form the supper ; or, if
curiosity prompts you to call into our little
mansion six feet square, the roofs of which
come down to the ground, you would doubtless
be invited to take a seat on the wood pile.
You might at first be a little surprised at the
simplicity and disarrangement of our furni
ture ; but we should make no apologies ; for
we are quite as well off as any of our neigh
bors, and that you know is enough the world
over. There are our guns tied to the tent post,
that they may not rust, (it is not a small job to
scour them bright for inspection after being out
in such a storm as we've had ;) our equipments
are under the bunk with knapsacks, haversacks
and canteens ; these cups, plates and knives,
we also put in with them ; but if we remain
here a few days, we shall probably get a hard
tack box, which will make us a fine cupboard.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 61
And, too, this floor is not wholly without its
virtue ; for as a miller wears a white coat be
cause it will not show the flour so quick as a
black one, so our floor is good about not
showing dirt, and we don't have to sweep it
more than once a week or so. We six live
in this tent very finely — a good one it is, never
leaking unless it rains furiously ; three of us
old school mates ; four of us republicans, one
an abolitionist and one a war democrat.
So we never have occasion to quarrel, only
differing a little as to the slowness or swift
ness of Mr. Lincoln in beating the rebels ; not
caring whether he does it by white men, or
niggers, or by both. With few exceptions, we
get enough to eat — always plenty in camp —
not mince and chicken pies, of course, like
that you see in the box ; but wheat bread,
pork, beef and beans, and rice twice or three
times a week. And we have just guard and
picket duty enough, with now and then an ex
cursion, to keep up a good circulation of the
blood. And now, reader, if you doubt our
word, when we say that this is a most agreea
ble way of living, we can only advise ycu to
try it.

62 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
Dec. 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.— Sabbath— cold, no
religious services, dull. The boys stick to
their tents — hardly out of them all day. The
next three days we pass in completing the bar
racks, alternating in our opinions between go
ing, and not going, into winter quarters here.
A part build log houses and cover them with
dirt — a few with oak slabs, split out with the
axes ; a part stockade the tents. On the llth
all that are able go on picket. The line is
three miles south of the camp. It extends
from a creek of the Potomac west for many a
mile — our brigade keeping up the line for a few
miles and then met by other soldiers. There
are three reliefs ; each on duty eight hours.
The beats are from ten to fifteen rods apart ;
two soldiers are left at each, one watching at a
time. They are each allowed such a fire as
they choose to build night and day, as the er e-
my are not thought near. Our letters are
brought us from camp just before dark. Of
course we have no candles, so we punch the
fire-brands together, pile on as dry wood as we
can get, not sparing the rail fence near by.
When it is well burning, we, sitting cross leg
ged on the ground, leaning towards the fire.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 63
learn the news from home. The day is warm
and so beautiful that one, little by little, al
most forgets his native hills, and for the time,
wishes to make the sunny land his home. But
no, no, — ye native hills and rivers and lakes,
we can never forget you. Thrice lovely and
dear to us are ye in the distance. But even
when we lived among you, so much to our
taste and liking wert thou, that though Ave
had looked upon thy varied forms from tender
est childhood, there was no satiety. Our love
for thee grows stronger with the circling years,
as grape-vines around the sugar-bearing ma
ples. The next morning we are relieved so as
to reach camp at eleven. On our way back
we are told that Gen. Banks had taken Rich
mond, going up the James river with the gun
boats ; that several of the States had accepted
the President's offer to buy the slaves. Quite
a number think it probable, as the news comes
from so good a source ; others say that " it is
too good to be believed ;" but the faces of all
look as men's arc wont to, when they have sud
denly heard good reports. All, as usual, do
but little during the rest of the day, after be
ing on picket. But all go out to dress parade.

6-1 THE SECOND BRIGADE.
It is closed. The men are beginning to leave
the ground. Just now one of Gen. Stoughton's
aids rides up, and hands the colonel a letter.
He reads it ; then (as is his custom) begins to
bite his mustache, and rub his chin viith his
forefinger. Immediately it is noised through
camp that we are to start on a march at five
o'clock the next morning, with two days' ra
tions.

CHAPTER YI.
Long before daylight the stars are shin
ing brightly, and the camps are all ' alive.
Things are being packed up ; breakfast ate ;
such of the sick as are unable to march a part
of the way and be carried a part on the am
bulances, turned over to the regimental hospi
tal, and thence to some general hospital in
Alexandria or Washington ; last, the tents are
struck and loaded on the wagons, and we are
off. The whole brigade is moving, commanded
liy Gen. Stoughton. This one declares that
we are going up the Potomac ; that one, down;
this one, to Bull Run again ; and that one, to
Centreville. But if either is right, it is be
cause he happens to guess it ; for rarely does a
soldier know long before, when, or where he is
to march ; and as well might one, unlearned in
astronomy, conjecture the shiftings of the winds
and storms, for the next generation, as for a
soldier in the morning to pretend where he
6 [66]

66 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
will be at night. They know this, submit to it,
with little or no murmuring, and as soon as
they halt for the night go to making them as
good a place to lie on as they can. We have
marched about a mile, when the sun rises above
the low, wooded hills of Maryland, its rays
flashing on the burnished rifles, and the long
line of men rolling steadily over little swells of
land, now seen, and now the living chain is
broken from your view by the uneven land,
looking not unlike a beautiful river, as seen
from some neighboring hill in early day, whose
silvery waters are winding through the valley
below, at one time hid by rocks or strips of
trees, and then pouring on, narrowing, till lost
far away; so looked this line of brave men,
each gathering courage as he sees the host
stepping by martial music, and pride, that he,
with such, are the defenders of his country.
At ten we are told that Burnside has taken
Fredericksburg ; that soldiers have been push
ed on from Centreville to support him ; and
that we are to occupy their places. A glori
ous day it is ; a bright sun, pure air, just cool
enough for exercising, and never did men
march with higher spirits, all except the weak-

OR, CAMP LIFE. 67
ly ; victory perching on our banners ; and
many, forgetful of the peninsular disaster, and
the famous retreat of Pope, almost with their
heated imaginations behold Richmond in
flames, Lee, Longstreet and Stonewall Jackson
in the old capitol prison, and the rebel army
scattered like autumn leaves. My company
is placed in the rear of all to pick up the
stragglers, that is, such as fall out from their
places. The teams, four horses to each, draw
ing large, heavily ironed, four-wheeled wag
ons — covered with coarse cotton cloth — of the
whole brigade, start between us and the last
regiment. There are seven for each, except
our own regiment, and two ambulances, one
drawn by four, and the other by two horses.
Our teams had been turned over to the gov
ernment when at Bull Run, and we had not
succeeded in getting others, only for the ambu
lances. There are men in every company, who
are just recovering from sickness, or just grow
ing sick, or weak from diarrhoea — a most com
mon complaint among the soldiers — or low
from various causes, who prefer to try the
march to being left behind, and hence sent to a
general hospital. So they start with the rest.

68 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
We have gone a mile and a half. I now see
one, pale, breathing hard and coughing ; two
comrades step along to him : " Johnnie, let us
carry your knapsack ;" a third comes up :
" and let me have your gun." He goes on a
mile or so ; takes his own things ; on again,
till his strength gives out. Then some one
assists him to get on the ambulance, if this is
not already full ; if so, then try the wagons.
But what if these are loaded with tents, pork
and hard tack ? Then he must sit by the road
side till the rear guard salutes him. "Fall in,
boys, fall in ! We have orders to pass by
none." He looks as though doubting whether
to try the march, or not. But he slowly puts
on his burden, and continues along with us for
awhile. Now the whole brigade halts ; and
perhaps some ambulance which has been empti
ed of its soldiers, who have become rested,
comes back to the rear, and takes those who
have suffered most from the march. In this
way there were not more than twenty-five from
the whole brigade with the rear guard, as we
reached the place of encampment, a mile north
west of Fairfax Court House, just dark, about
an hour later than the main force. We have

OR, CAMP LIFE. 69
marched twenty miles, I saw only one throw
his knapsack away — remember in this is every
thing a soldier has to keep him warm, aud
that he cannot long endure these frosty nights
without his blanket, — and a surgeon got this
one on an ambulance. We camp in the edge
of a forest of oak and chestnut ; here, instead
of the open plain, as the leaves will be be
tween the rubber blankets and the ground, and
wood for our fires nearer. Most pitch their
shelter tents ; a few have lost them, and lie
around the fires — I so near one that my over
coat receives a good scorching. Short is the
time between boiling coffee, and lying on the
leaves under the blankets; and still shorter
between this and sleep. Early the next morn
ing everything is arranged to continue the
march. But the forenoon passes off, we ex
pecting each hour to go the next ; but in
the afternoon it is understood that we remain
through the night, and so we have a battalion
drill. From one till dark, infantry, cavalry
and teams, are marching by us to reinforce
Burnside. Dec. 14. — Sunday morning — calm and still
save the tramp, the ceaseless tramp of cavalry

70 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
and infantry that are rolling by us from early
dawn till late in the evening. As one for the
first time looks on the waves and tidal motions
ofthe ocean, at once does he exclaim, " What
power ! how great, how grand, how majestic,
is the ocean ;" and if he dwells in the city, in
ecstacy will he ride over the country, and
breathe the pure mountain air ; and in turn, a
countryman's curiosity is not a little aroused
by a stroll through the most ordinary city.
But though the objects of nature and art are
grand and beautiful, and great to stir one's
feelings within him — all pale away, like
stars before the silver flood of the morn
ing sun, as he gazes long on the vast hu
man sea, in a few hours to be thrown into
fury by the shock of battle. Onward, onward
they go, unbroken as a stream, and resistless
as the tide, think we, " They conquered the
rebels at Antietam; Burnside has again at
Fredericksburg; he must capture Richmond
this time," many say. Give the soldiers a
plenty to eat ; give them a general who will
lead them to victory ; pay them when they
are in need, and rarely will you hear a mur
mur or see a better feeling set of fellows.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 71
We have the usual Sunday morning inspec
tion. The captains examine the arms to see
that they are in good condition ; and car
tridge boxes, that there are forty rounds of
ammunition. The boys spend not a little time
in scouring and oiling their guns. For this
purpose each has a little bottle of oil and
piece of emery paper, which they buy of the
sutler ; or if wanting this, they use the top of
the ground, soft, fine, a little gritty, but not
so as to scratch the barrel. After the inspec
tion is over, the colonel forms the regiment in
to a square and speaks as follows : " Soldiers,
this inspection has been A'ery imperfect on my
part. But do not think there will be any re
laxation. I ordered you to leave your knap
sacks in your tents on account of this sudden
march, thinking that your clothes might not be
clean and well arranged. Now the object of
this inspection is not to make your clothes clean,
and guns bright, but to Jmow that they are so.
I see, boys, that some of you are getting somewhat
dirty, greasy ev^en, about the neck. There
will always be a few in every regiment who
don't have a care for these things. So they
get vermin on them, and that isn't the worst ;

72 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
necessarily they give the prolific creatures to
others, who are very particular as to cleanli
ness. These things must be attended to : —
your guns in good order, your clothes and per
sons clean. And since you have a little leis
ure, and there is a stream of running water
near, and the day is warm, I advise you to do
this as soon as you are dismissed ; for you
know you cannot on the march, and to-morrow
you may be following in the steps of yonder
veterans," Many heed the coloiael's advice and give
their bodies a good scrubbing with soap and
water, — most from inclination ; but possibly a
few, through fear of becoming unpopular with
their comrades. Many hang out their clothes
to dry, as they washed them the day before
we started on the march ; and so were packed
into the knapsack wet.
Dec. 15. — Still lying in the woods ; and
still expecting each hour to start the next.
Many rumors reach us from Burnside. Alas I
his star, that shone Avith such splendor but yes
terday, is shooting from the heavens with the
comet's speed, scarce leaving one ray of light,
— darkness closing in upon its course, like

OR, CAMP LIFE. 73
waters in the wake of a ship. Now he is shel
ling the city, and throwing pontoon bridges
across the river ; now his men are over, and
Fredericksburg burned to the ground; now
the rebels are flying back to Richmond, pursu
ed by our victorious army. All are jubilant.
But in a half hour more the news is brought us
from Gen'l. Sigel's head-quarters at Fairfax
Court House : " Gen. Burnside's whole army is
driven back across the river with fearful loss."
Never were bright skies so suddenly darkened
by clouds ; never did thermometer so frequent
ly rise and fall by shifting storms, as did our
spirits by alternate reports of victory and de
feat. But just at night the surgeon comes into
camp with a paper. According to this, our
forces have been partially successful, — room
for hope, but bitter comparisons drawn between
Burnside and McClellan. We have had most
fortunately three warm and pleasant days, but
at four the next morning we are roused from
sound sleep by rain coming through our shelter
tents, as if made of paper. Soon all are up,
stumbling around in the woods and dark, to
start fires and throw the rubber blankets over
tents. We are now short of rations. A few

74 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
frequently have complained that they did not
have what they wanted to eat ; did not get
what government furnished ; but most have
had a plenty until now. But last night, few
ate more than half a meal, and now only six
hardtacks for the day, — no meat, no coffee, no
sugar, (deprived of either, a soldier is some
what out of humor,) all expecting a great rain
storm. There is considerable murmuring.
Some of the rash ones, not to officers, of
course, but to sympathizers, give vent to their
passions thus : " I won't lift a hand until I have
had more to eat." " I will help myself to the
bread, and they can put me in the guard
house as q-uick as they please. " As fifteen or
twenty stand around a heap of wet brush,
smoking more than burning, one rough fellow
explodes in this way : " This whole war is a
d — -d swindling concern. It's kept up by infer
nal scoundrels to make money. Six hundred
raillion dollars squandered in a year, and we
half fed ! Down here it is first nigger, then
mule, and last soldier. We haven't drawn
half o-ir rations since we left home ; but by
the  , I'll not stir another inch till they
get us what we want to eat. When my time is

OR, CAMP LIFE. 75
out, if they get me again, they will get me by
drafting. What a shame for a soldier to starve
within four miles of a railroad, and in sight of
Washington." Another answers, who utters
the opinions of most : " We are now, and
have been in the past, occasionally short of ra
tions. But have we never gone without a meal
when at home ? And who thought of whining
like a child ? Didn't we suddenly start on a
march, and hence the commissary was more or
less disarranged ? And to talk of starving as
we now live, is merely talking. Don't we all
weigh more than when we left home ? Is this
starving ? Those, who will eat themselves
sick in a week's time, — if the sutler don't get
all his green backs before — of course will com
plain here. Didn't seventy- five thousand soldiers
pass through here yesterday and the day before ?
All these must be fed. Let us look at these
things like men. The wonder is, that the gov
ernment feeds so many so well. The skies
are dark this morning ; and if Burnside is beat
en, darker still our national affairs ; not from
the blow received from the' rebels; but the
traitors in the North will seize on this, and cry
' Peace.' It is time to deplore the event

76 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
when we know the worst ; but never to despair,
whatever disaster befall our country."
Our A tents were brought by railroad to
Fairfax Station last night ; those of the rest of
the brigade were on the teams that came with
us. About nine o'clock quite a number from
each company go down to bring them up on
their backs, — four miles from the camp. As
they plod on, the red mud sticking to their
boots, they speculate thus : " Now if Burnside
beats the rebels at Fredericksburgh, and force's
them back to Richmond, we shall be ordered
on at once to take their places on the Rap
pahannock ; if he is driven back, Ave shall go
to aid him. Hence, whichever way the tide of
battle turns, we cannot remain there more than
a day or two. So why carry these tents four
miles on our backs through this infernal mud ?"
But after they have . become warmed by exer
cising, all conclude that it is better to move
about than to shiver in camp. Whilst at the
Station, an old woman, whose dress was cer
tainly never worn out by being washed, gets up
a brisk trade witli the boys, by selling pies, —
some made of dried peaches, some of wild
rabbit. We reach camp, aud have our tents

OR, CAMP LIFE. 77
up before dark, in much better spirits than in
the morning. Near by had been all day'a pile
of bread, — a thousand loaves. Around it a
guard paces, shifting his gun from shoulder to
shoulder. The soldiers think it ought to be
dealt out. After dark (we are told) one creeps
up slyly, seizes a loaf, and starts off on the
run, Tne guard don't see him till off a num
ber of rods. He now comes to his accustom
ed sharpness at once, and is on the thief's track,
screaming " corporal of the guard ! corporal
of the guard !" Whilst on the pursuit, and
before the corporal reaches the spot, another
helps himself. In this way the pile yas some
smaller the next morning.
Dec. 17. — No drilling. Similar rations are
dealt out as at the other camp, — soft bread,
pork, coffee and sugar. Rumors of Burnside's
defeat ; grumbling in the North.
Dec. 18. — All of our things reach us to-day.
Two men from a company were left behind to
take care of them. The day after we left,
Captain White died of typhoid fever. All are
anxious (asking this one, and that one, if he
has heard from Burnside,) to get an accurate
report of the great battle at Fredericksburgh.

78 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
Rarely do daily papers come to us, though we
get our mail every other daj .
Dec. 19. — Lying in the woods ; no drilling.
The Colonel won't let us stockade the tents, as
he says we shan't remain here but a short
time. But few have any fires in them. The
nights are cold. This morning, when I went
to the little stream to wash me, I found it frozen
an inch deep. If you wake any hour of the
night, you hear the strokes of a dozen axes ;
and what is really painful, many coughing —
coughing — deep and hoarse. The cold has
crept through the tent and blanket, and thief
like, robb'ed the soldier of his sleep. He starts
up, cold all over, feet, hands, head and body.
His fire outside his tent has burned low. He
throws the brands together, and then starts
with his axe after wood. Now the logs are
burning brightly, forming a beautiful circle of
light, the radius of which is growing fainter
and fainter till lost in the darkness ; within
is another circle of soldiers chatting around
the fire. In the afternoon the bugle calls the
officers about the Colonel's tent. The order is
given to have their men ready to start at a
moment's notice. This is soon changed, and

OR, CAMP LIFE.

79

we go on battalion drill. It has been rumored
all day that McClellan is reinstated in power.
At nine o'clock at night orders came from the
brigade head-quarters for the whole regiment
to go on picket the next day.

CHAPTER VII.
The sun's tays are glancing obliquely on the
Avhite frosty earth, as we start for the picket
line, two miles south of Centreville, and eight
from camp. The whole brigade is stationed
near the Court House, and the regiments take
turn in doing the picket duty, — each on four
days. The rest of the time is mostly consum
ed in brigade and battalion drill, and keeping
guard. We pass over the broad turnpike be
tween the two villages — since 1861, now held
by friend and now by foe — not level, but ris
ing and falling, like waves one behind another.
We have reached the summit of a ridge, run
ning east and west — the highest point for a
number of miles. On this isa long line of rifle
pits, between works thrown up for cannon. A
few rods south is Centreville, a village of
twelve or fifteen houses that have been white
washed sometime, with huge stone chimneys at
both ends ; occupied by negroes and govern-
[81]

82 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
ment stores, as a few hundred cavalry have
been encamped here for awhile, also doing pick
et duty. Far and near are barracks and ruins
of barracks, built and occupied by the enemy
in the winter of 1861, and abandoned by them
in the spring of 1862. We know that we are
on historic ground. Eagerly the eye siezes on
objects to the south, glancing down the sloping
hill, then on, over a wide tract streaked with
forests, and cut up with little streams — still on
five or six miles to Bull Run battle-field. Two
companies are posted as pickets ; the rest go
into the filthy log huts. When new they were
doubtless quite warm and comfortable ; but
now, parts of them are torn down, the mud out
of the crevices, so that one is in doubt whether
to^take them or the open fields swept by cold
winds. Water freezes in the canteens. To
wards evening we get in some wood to burn,
boards to lie on, hang the rubbers and small
tents around the rough walls, and prepare for
supper. A few stroll off and find places that
they regard better ; but the Colonel soon or
ders them back, saying that they were liable
to be attacked by rebel cavalry during the

OR, CAMP LIFE. 83
night. A long dull night it is — too cold for
much sleep.
Dec. 21. — Early, ten men and a lieutenant
are sent out from three companies each, to act
with the cavalry patrols, on the main roads —
two miles from the village. Two are left on
the beat, who are relieved once in two hours.
The rest of us selected a place a hundred rods
in the rear, out of sight as much as possible,
in some wild rose bushes. These we clear
away with our knives ; start a fire ; hang up
pieces of shelter tents to break the wind off —
nothing over us ; gather hay to lie on, and we
are rigged for the twenty-four hours. We
have ten hard tacks each, — twelve is a day's
ration — a little pork, coffee and sugar. Some
cook — fry the meat by converting the tin
plates into frying pans — sticking small sticks
to them and holding them over the fire. The
hard tack, soaked in cold water, is then fried
in the lard. Some, however, eat it clear, now
and then taking a draught of hot coffee. The
cavalry patrols say that they are driven in,
but we see no signs of the enemy. They had
been in the war from its commencement, and
were fond of relating their daring exploits ;

81 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
how this one escaped at dead of night, with
many balls through his clothes ; how that one
charged in first and second Bull Run battles ;
how from yonder peaks you could see dead
men all around ; and no end was there to their
stealing the hens and pigs of " secesh" citi
zens. With us is a jolly son of Erin. He is
a little blind and quite excitable. In the dis
tance he sees a rebel in every old stump or
rail fence ; here they are pushing on towards
us in four files ; yonder are cavalry plotting
against us : " That house up there is full of
the divils. By jabers," says he, " Ave ought to
burn it." When asleep, he dreams of battles,
and making terrible charges on the foe :
¦' In broken dreams the imago rose
Of varied perils, pains and woes."
It is the custom to halt the cavalry when at
a distance of five or six rods, and if there is
any thing that shows hostile intentions, then
to make one dismount and give the counter
sign. At one time, after dark, a cavalry man's
horse had got away, and came galloping to
wards Uncle Dan. His spirits rise — rise as
the clattering hoofs come nearer, till within

OR, CAMP LIFE. S.A
fifteen or twenty rods : "Halt!" he cries,
three times in quick succession, and in a half
second more the crack of his rifle Avould have
brought us of the reserve to our feet, when his
laughing comrades tell him the horse is with
out a rider.
As we came back to our comrades the next
morning, I never saw them so desponding.
The Cuid wind, the clouded skies, the open,
filthy barracks, and the rebel armies — -these
are nothing to daunt ; but Seward and Chase
have resigned, (such is rumor); Burnside is
defeated ; a thousand times the worst of all, the
North is distracted : " Will they support us ?"
" Will they support us ?" ask many ; " Woe
on the heads of those infernal villains that
stab our country in this dark moment," mut
ter others : "the South is united ; foreign in
tervention is staring us in the face ; a long
winter is closing in upon us ; Congress is a
mob ; some blaming this general ; some, that
general; and as if this was not enough, we
haA^e but about half rations." In the afternoon
a cavalry man, who has gone a little bejond
the picket line, is shot near an house by a
bushwhacker. His comrades are furiously en-

86 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
raged: "To be shot in battle, to die on the
field, for one's country," says one of the offi
cers, " this is honorable — this is noble. We,
who have lived for twenty months, as it were,
in the saddle, who have endured the heats of
summer, the colds of winter, with the blue
heavens over us, the damp ground beneath us,
with deadly foes prowling about us in our
slumbers ; we who have survived the wrecks of
twenty battles, — we, I say, fear no danger.
But to be murdered, butchered, — for, soldiers,
look on our brother," — (they have just brought
him in, and he lies still bleeding on a board) ;
"these villains have shot him through the heart ;
and his face, once so full of martial beauty,
and his manly form, all mangled by a murder
er's dagger, not a soldier's, by one that's loyal
through the day, but traitor through the night.
Men, we shan't endure this longer. That
house shall no longer stand a rendezvous,
where those who are loyal to our faces, disloy
al to our backs, may congregate at night, and
plot against our lives. Go, barn it to the
ground, and if you set your eyes upon that
murderer, never let it be said that ' that bash-
whacker has killed another man.' " No sooner

OR, CAMP LIFE. 87
had he ended, than fifteen horsemen pat spurs
to their steeds, armed with pistols, cutlass and
carbine, and in a short time the house is in
flames, but the traitor escaped. On the 28d
the cavalry are reinforced, so only two compa
nies go on picket. The quartermaster brings
a plenty of rations to us. On the 24th Ave are
relieved by the fourteenth regiraent, who ar
rive at our camp the middle of the afternoon.
Dec. 25. — Christmas. In all the brigade
there is no drilling. The chaplains preach to
the various regiments. Then many visit the
Chantilly battle field. A citizen points out the
spot where the brave Kearney fell ; where the
lines swayed to and fro. Here, side by side,
are the graves of friend and foe. The enemy
held the field. Their dead are buried very de
cently ; but shocking to say, only a few sods
were thrown over ours, and frequently, feet,
hands and skulls are sticking out, flesh still
on. But we found men from tho twelfth regi
ment covering these heroes that fought so
bravely. We lose another of our soldiers.
Oscar Reed dies suddenly of typhoid fever.
Dec. 26. — Battalion and brigade drill ; noth
ing new in camp — not even rumors. The

88 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
weather is again quite warm ; plenty of ra
tions, and the boys cheerful.
Dec. 27. — " Is it battalion or brigade drill ?
Shall we go on a march, or be allowed to wash
our clothes ?" 'Tis noon ; no orders have come ;
clean up for inspection. In two hours more
all are scattered, a part getting wood ; a part
washing clothes, and themselves ; others scour
ing guns. Now the long roll is beat. " Sie
gel is fighting at Dumfries." See the running,
the scampering for arms. Two hours more ;
" no marching to-day," comes the order from
the General.
Dec. 28. — Sunday. The usual inspection
and divine services pass off ; the soldiers Avrite
to their friends ; stand out in the sun-light,
laughing, talking, yet all quiet. Short are the
hours, and quickly flies the day, hardly dream
ing that we are soldiers. But just at dark one
of the General's aids rides up to the Colonel's
tent, on a gallop, as usual. In a moment the
bugler sounds the officers' call. " HaA-e your
men ready to march at a moment's notice," is
the order. Most expect to go ; for we haA-e
heard of numerous fights for the past few
days ; of alternate victories and defeats : of

OR, CAMP LIFE. 89
marches, counter-marches and movements front,
rear and flank, till we know not whether friends
or enemies surround us. We are soon formed
in line, and are off, expecting to have a little
skirmish with rebel cavalry, after marching
five or six miles. But when a little east of the
village, we are placed in some rifle-pits dug by
the rebels themselves, in the early part of the
war, to oppose our advance. Two companies
of the twelfth are sent forward that we may
not be surprised. Report has swelled the num
ber of Stuart's cavalry that have broken through
our lines south of us, to four thousand ; as near
as I could learn, about twice what they were.
Two hours have passed ; some have unrolled
their blankets, and are half asleep. Now a
volley from the front. All spring to their pla-"
ces instantly, expecting the enemy. Cannon
are planted to sweep the road. These are dis
charged a few times at the rebels, a mile and a
half away, prowling around a house which they
have set on fire. We then start for another
road on double quick, glad to move; for our
hands and feet are getting numb with cold.
Taa'o hours herfe ; the companies are scattered
about watching. " Who comes there ?" loud-
8

90 THE SECOND BRIGADE ;
ly cries the foremost of twenty horsemen.
" Who comes there yourself?" replies the Col
onel, each thinking the other an enemy. " I'm
a Union picket and patrol between this and
Centreville. Advance, and give the coun
tersign." " Advance yourself, and give the
countersign ; I'm a colonel in the Union ar
my, and here's my men about me." Soon they
are satisfied with each other. The horses and
men are hidden from us, before the clatter of
their hoofs on the frozen ground ceases to
reach us. A little after midnight we go back
to the rifle-pits and remain till morning. We
had but few cavalry near the village, so the en
emy easily bent their course around us, with
but little injury to themselves, and none to us.
Before the sun has risen, little fires are started
along the line, and around them soldiers cook
ing coffee and eating bread, and butter sent
from home, or bought of the sutler for forty
cents a pound. At eight o'clock the regiments
return to their several camps and doze away
the rest of the day.
Dec. 80. — Nothing but drills and guarding.
Dec. 31. — All are mustered. • The boys do
their best, at washing themselves and clothes,

OR, CAMP LIFE. 91
cutting hair and scouring guns, to show off as
well as they can. The brigade head-quarters
are established at the village, and for the past
few days the regiments have taken turns in
sending a hundred men to guard them. No
little sensation has been produced by the ar
rest of several officers and privates, for not
dressing, and washing, and stepping, and salut
ing, and other smaller things, just according to
stern military rules. So before leaving our pa
rade ground we go through a mimic guard-
mount, under the eye of a field officer. We
make a number of mistakes here. These are
pointed out. And as is often the case, when,
one not thoroughly versed in what he is doing,
attempts at being over nice, comes short of his
common work, so we under the eye of the
General. Yet none are arrested ; but some
are sworn at, and one of the lieutenants laughed
at for making a sort of an awkward start in
stead of a graceful salute as he passes the offi
cer of the day. Two regiments of cavalry
camped near the village. Some of these about
midninght make havoc with the sutler's shops,
helping themselves to the tobacco, beer, cider

92

THE SECOND BRIGADE.

and apples, before the guards could reach them,
declaring that they were " on a bust the last
day of the year."

''¦^'IKSQJXSX-*

CHAPTER VIII.
Jan. 1, 1863. — It is a bright, sunny day — no
clouds, no snow, or frost ; the air pure and in
vigorating ; the little birds seemed to have
been thawed out, and skip about lively ; the
ground dry enough for good walking ; in a
word, everything in nature inclines one to en
joy the first day of the year. And so we do.
A plenty of rations and no drilling ; at our
leisure we stroll and chat, and shake our sides
with laughter at some good story ; and Jack,
Richard and Gibo, delight us with the fiddle,
and now with songs of love and war ; and a
thousand youths in the whole brigade, with
smiling faces,
" Just at the age 'twi.xt boy and youth,
When thought is speech, and speech is truth,''
I've beard saluting : " I wish you a happy
new year ;" and " I wish you a happy ncAV
year, too," as heartily as child ever did father
[93]

94 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
and mother the first morning of the new-born
year. 0 ! may every day be lovely as this,
boys, and no cloud come over your sun of joy.
Jan. 2. — Battalion and brigade drill. Ac
cording to the regulations, every soldier, un
less excused by the surgeon in the morning,
(the captains can detail a few to do some little
things, such as assisting the cooks, getting
wood or water,) must attend the drills and
parades during the day. Since here, quite a
number have grown somewhat negligent.
These are not out in the forenoon. The Colo
nel says nothing ; but orders the regiment out
in the afternoon in time for the sergeant to
call the roll before starting for the brigade
drill. Those who are not present, and not
excused, are put under arrest and sent to the
guard-house. As soon as we return, a court-
martial is instituted to try them, — no, to fright
en them. The next day they go through with
a form of trial. They are charged with vio
lating the forty-fourth article of war ; and to
this they plead guilty. But many are the
reasons for it. Some were washing, and
some cutting wood to stockade their tents, ignb-
rant of the drill, they say, until the drums beat,

OR, CAMP LIFE. 95
and then they had not time to prepare for it ;
others say that they were unable to go, but
could not got excused, and so took it upon
themselves to remain in their tents. But it is
all dropped; the Colonel advising the boys
not to be caught committing a similar offence
again. Jan. 3. — All expected to start the next
morning, when we encamped* here on the night
of 12th December. But we have remained day
after day, thinking each day that we should go
the next, or be ordered to " fall in" any hour
of the same day, or night, to march. The
nights are growing colder ; so two days are
given us, Saturday and Monday, to put small
stockades under our tents, and make them as
warm as we can. We lay out not as much la
bor on them as if we had not made so many
and sudden moves ; but some of the regiments
have expended not a little time on theirs.
Chestnut trees are slashed down, cut off the
right length and -split into slabs, A kind of a
box, the bigness of the tent, three or four feet
high, is formed out of these, the ends fitted to
gether, the crevices, as usual, filled with mud.

96 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
The tents are placed on these, and are much
warmer than before.
Jan. 6. — Dull, rainy ; no drilling. Hardly
a soldier is seen in the camp, except the guards
pacing the beats. The President's proclama
tion causes a little discussion. Many are glad
that it is issued, thinking it wise and justf
wise, that by as much as you reduce the num
ber of slaves laboring at home, so much you
reduce the number of our enemies in the field ;
just, that all men should be free. Some think
it impolitic, howsoever just ; that it will serve
to distract the North ; now and then, one pre
tends to regard it unconstitutional. The next
four days are spent in drilling, and making
the tents more comfortable. In each one now
you see a fire-place, or little stove, and a bunk
to sit on through the day, and sleep on at
night. Crotched sticks are driven into the
ground ; poles put on them ; then these are
covered with broAvse, or str^w, if one is so for
tunate as to get it of some farmer near by,
whom the war has not entirely ruined. Of
late, " When shall we be paid off ?" is a ques
tion more frequently asked than any other, as
we have been mustered tAvice Avilhout any pay.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 97
A half dozen days have been fixed upon, by
this one and that one. But these come and
go, but not the paymaster. A sergeant comes
into my tent. He has no sooner taken a seat
on the little wood pile than two eager soldiers
interrogate, " When shall we be paid off, ser
geant ?" " Paid off ? I've been asked that
" question twenty times to-day ; and the Lord
only knows, I don't, as ever," " I'm a little
blue to-day, boys, and the bump of hope was
never as big in my cranium- as in some others.
If the government goes down, I wouldn't give
' a red' for a cart load of green-backs."
" Goes down ! what do you mean ?" " I
mean, if the South gets her independence, this
flood of paper money won't be worth the rags
that it's written on. The battles control gold,
and it goes up and down as they turn for or
against us, as a thermometer just as it is hot
or cold. Like the snakes in the Eastern
tale, that never showed themselves in the pure
light of day but crawled forth at night from
their slimy caves to hiss and bite, so a class is
rising in the North, in this dark hour, to strike
down our government. To tell it as it is,
boys, I fear them more than the ' rebs.' But
9

98 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
I always seize on some sunshiny day, and when
I am in tip-top spirits, to write home, and so
they think I'm the best feeling soldier in all
Dixie. In fact, I've wHtten them that I was
going to enlist again, so pleased was I with the
service, partly to see what they would say,
and more that they might not think me at all
discouraged." Jan. 11. — Sabbath — rainy; nothing but in
spection in the morning, and guard-mount.
Every soldier expects the guard-mount each
day as much as his meals. The new guards
and their arms are here inspected by a lieu
tenant, divided into three reliefs, — (each usu
ally on duty two hours,) — then one is sent to
take the places of the old guards around camp.
Jan. 12. — Company and brigade drills ; and
mud in abundance.
Jan. 13. — A dry place ; one free from the
wind, in cold weather ; and near wood and wa
ter. These at least are necessary for a good
camp ground. When we first came here this
location answered to these. But now the
ground is soaked with water, and it does not
run off freely ; some are sick ; and a few have
died very suddenly. The surgeons pronounce

OR, CAMP LIFE. 99
the place unhealthy, and think that the camp
had better be moved. So we work during the
day, policing the ground to the right of us.
The next morning at two o'clock we are arous
ed by the " long roll." All are up in a few
minutes. The first man I met after I was out
of my tent, began : " What in hell is to pay
now ? Some men are scared at their own shad
ows. There a'int ' a reb' within a thousand
miles of here." We don't leave the company
streets, and in a half hour are told that we
can lie down again. A bushwhacker had fired
at a cavalry patrol not far from camp.
Jan. 14. — There are doubts whether the new
ground, cleared yesterday, is more healthy than
that we now occupy. Some of the field offi
cers ride around to seek a better site ; we stroll
at our leisure. Rumor says that we are going
to be transferred from the Department at Wash
ington, and going to North Carolina. A part
would like to go ; others, not ; the most think
it only a rumor, and not worth an observation.
Jan, 15. — As soon as breakfast is over, all
the companies, led by the major, with spades
and axes, start to clear another place for the
camp. We have a plenty of rations ; it is a

100 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
warm day, and most are in excellent spirits.
But the boys look at each other, laughing, and
say : " This is putting down rebellion in ear
nest." We are soon on the ground, — a dry
side hill, — near a grove of Norway pines, a
hundred rods to the left of the twelfth regi
ment. It is covered with logs, brush, and tree-
tops. But the work goes bravely on. The
streets are marked out for each company ; and
each clears its own. At noon we go back for
dinner, carrying our axes and spades ; for one,
if he happens to be in Avant, does not scruple
from other regiments, or any other company
but his own, to steal such things, reasoning in
this way : " These tools belong to Uncle Sam ;
I ara working for the old fellow ; this axe is bet
ter than mine, and I can do more work with
it; so much clear gain !" This argument has
morality enough in it to still the consciences
of most soldiers if they have chopped long
with a dull axe, and have a chance to get their
hands on a sharper one ; and so much logic,
that no one pretends to refute it, only, if he
has lost one, by improving the first opportunity
that he has to steal another. In the afternoon
we nearly finished policing the ground.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 101
Jan. 16. — Raining till noon. The rest of
the day we are stockading. Each squad builds
its own. Two cut down the trees ; two carry
them on their shoulders to the spot ; and the
others fit them together.
Jan. 17. — A cold and windy day ; but some
work on the stockades ; the rest remain in
camp. I called into a soldier's tent ; here I
found four or five talking about the draft that
was to take place the August before, as it is
rumored that more men are to be drafted so6n.
Each has a story to tell of this or that one,
who is suddenly taken sick, or runs to Canada,
when the enrolling officer comes around. This
one's eye-sight is very poor ; that one, a little
deaf; this one has humors through the cold
weather ; that one, the rheumatism ; the fifth
one is more than forty-five ; but, alas ! poor
fellow, the family record in his father's old Bi
ble says he is only forty-two. " Three groans,"
says the soldier, " for him, and all that utter a
syllable against the government of the United
States, or against the boys who march under
the stripes and stars. Three groans now."
Whereupon they exercise their lungs, as though
they intended to be heard in the farthest north.

102 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
Jan. 18. — Last night water froze two inches
in the little streams near camp. The day is
quite cold ; but we have inspection and divine
service. Jan. 19. — We start off and work about two
hours on the new quarters, (the cold compels
us to move briskly,) when 'orders come from
some higher source, and we soon shoulder our
spades, return, and exchange them for the ri
fles, and go to drilling. The old brick tavern
in the village is used for the brigade hospital,
where are brought, from the regimental hospi
tals, those who are the most dangerously sick.
The bodies of nearly all who have died in our
brigade have been enbalmed and sent home,
at the expense of the companies to which they
belonged. In the afternoon there was a funer
al. The soldier died last night at the village,
and wished to be buried there, saying that his
wife could not endure the sight of his dead
body. The chaplain, musicians, his company, and
such as choose to from the regiment, follow
him to the grave. He is placed, before leav
ing the hospital, in a government coffin, made
of boards painted black, — with the clothes on

OR, CAMP LIFE. 103
that he wore when alive. He is now laid in
the ground four feet deep ; twelve of his com
rades fire their farewell shots ; the chaplain
speaks consoling words, offers a prayer to
God and pronounces a benediction ; and we
turn away, not as when we came, with a slow
and measured tread, — the drummers beating
the dead-march, — but with quicker steps, a
livelier air, — Yankee Doodle.
As we reach camp it is noised about that we
are going on a march to-morrow.

CHAPTER IX.
Jan. 20. — " Is it forward or backward ? to
Bull Run or Alexandria ? Are we really
going, or is it another rumor ?" Last night,
with these queries in their minds, the soldiers
closed their eyes ; and this morning at five,
they are pulled open by the beat of the drum.
Soon the camps are all lighted ; the rolls cal
led ; things packed ; the mule teams loaded ;
and we are marching a little after day-light.
We have gone but a few rods, when one comes
from the brigade hospital to our company :
" John Canady is dead," he says : " died at
midnight." " John Canady is dead," passes
down the line from mouth to mouth. The next
day a soldier goes back to see that his body is
sent to his friends. None have any regrets at
turning their back on this place ; for the brig
ade has four dead men now in the hospital, and
a hundred and fifty sick, — some with typhoid
fever, but most with the measles. We have
[105]

106 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
reached our destination the middle of the af
ternoon — a high bluff near the Occoquan river,
(twelve miles march,) with aching backs and
weary legs. A soldier's burden (nearly fifty
pounds) is much heavier this season of the
year than in the summer. Now he clings to
his blankets, shirts, &c., as to his life ; then he
threw them away on long marches to save it.
As soon as it is known that we are to halt here
through the night, all are working in great
haste. The trees (for we are in a pine forest)
fall as if the men were clearing the land. The
tents are close behind us ; and pitched before
dark. We have no stoves ; no brick with
which we can make fireplaces ; and the ground
is frozen. At night I go over the camp. Each compa
ny has eight or ten fires between its two rows
of tents. Here is a small one, where are four
or five soldiers chatting; there is one that
roars, and lights up the woods for rods, its
cone-like flames darting up ten feet and spread
ing as they curl among the spitting pine
twigs and leaves. There is no war-whoop
sounding out on the night air ; no wild dance,
or painted faces ; but the scene really brings

OR, CAMP LIFE. 107
to mind the Indian stories of one's childhood.
But no, — soon there are signs of civilization,
and of a fiercer War than of bows and arrows.
A battery of brazen cannon follows us, and is
planted to defend the fords of the river ; and
the telegraph, with its lightning tongue to her
ald the least move of the enemy at any other
point, is strung through the forest ; and each
man, though armed with rifle, has a copy of
the New Testament. The brigade is now scat
tered ; two regiments are here ; the other three
at Fairfax Station, — eight niiles in the rear.
Jan. 21. — It rains fast all day. Some of
the soldiers suffered considerably from lying on
the ground last night. There were not axes
enough so that all could make themselves bunks.
Two teams reach us, lightly loaded with hard
tack, — it is so muddy,
Jan, 22. — A captain, two lieutenants and
one hundred men are detailed to turn the road
where it is muddiest ; and near evening the
teams arrive with most of the baggage and some
rations. Illy fares the mules and horses that
have fallen into the hands of the government.
Many fine animals — often by improper use —
are spoiled in a short time ; and now their bod-

108 ^THE SECOND BRIGADE;
ies and skeletons line the fields and roads,
where the armies have moved. Such of the
sick as are able to walk, come up with us ; for
walking, as one can turn his course around the
worst places, is much easier than riding over
these roads. We also get our mail. No dril
ling ; no skirmishing ; — but rumors, thick as
flies before a storm, and of about the same im
portance, — doing no injury, but still torment
ing ; these by little bites ; those by setting cu
riosity on tiptoe, — now spreading events before
you as you would like to have them, and on a
sudden topsy-turvy every thing is turned. " The
whole army is in motion," they say. " Burn
side has crossed the river and captured eight
thousand prisoners." One company pitches
its tents on the scraggy side of the bluff in
some bushes, near to and in sight of Wolf Run
Shoals, — the name of one of the fords that we
are to guard.
Jan. 23, 24. — The aimy of the Potomac is
still on the Rappahannock. A few days ago
they made a move, but were wholly impeded
by the mud. Indeed, it is almost impossible to
get provisions to us, only eight miles from the
Station. The six mule teams flounder through.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 109
covered with mud from hoof to ear, — with
loads hardly heavier than the same number of
men could carry. We are thirty-five miles in
the rear of the main army. Here is a long
line of pickets on the outmost edge of the De
partment of Washington, guarding each pass
from the Bull Run mountains to the Potomac.
At many points the pickets are posted within
sight of each other, but nearer the Potomac,
where the water is deeper, only the fords are
guarded ; and these sometimes by infanfry, and
sometimes by cavalry. Yesterday ten paroled
prisoners, that belonged to Gen. Slocum's
corps, came into our camp. They had been
captured a few days ago a little in the rear of
the main body, vhilst going through to Fred
ericksburg. Our tents are now stockaded ; in each is a
bunk, and a good fireplace made of mud and
stones. Many carry in their arms, or on the
shoulder, long stones for mantel-pieces, a half
mile. Twenty-five men, a sergeant and lieu
tenant, guard Sally Davis's ford, about a mile
^3own the river.
Jan. 25. — At half past eight the drumbeats,
and soon twenlv-five men are assembled before

110 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
the Colonel's tent as pickets, equipments on,
armed with rifle, blankets rolled and thrown
over the shoulders. As soon as the guns are
loaded, we start, led by the lieutenant, down
the steep bluff, up and down another, and then
along the muddy banks of the rivei-, till we
come to the old pickets, in a clump of pines,
near the ford. The arms are stacked ; one is
posted on the beat close to the river ; wood
chopped for the fires ; a sort of burrows
of pine limbs constructed, sometimes large
enough for only two, and then simicircular
around a fire, where a dozen crawl in at night.
It is a warm spring-like day, and the boys en
joy it much, chatting, writing letters, reading
newspapers, preparing. dinner_and supper. As
eight or ten stand around a fire boiling coffee,
" It is a beautiful Sabbath," says one, who has
just come in from filling his canteen at a gurg
ling stream running down between two hills,
and who doubtless had been led to meditate,
as he, walking alone, saw the golden sun so
gloriously setting in the west. " Is it Sunday ?"
feply three or four at the same time.; "is it
Sunday ? I can hardly keep the days of the
week, time flies so fast." With us were five

OR, CAMP LIFE. Ill
Michigan cavalry. All but one take no note of
time. He would be delighted to see the sun
doubling her speed, and the months huddled
into days ; they can hardly tell whether it is
January or March, and certainly don't care.
Says he : " Eighteen months ago I enlisted ;
left the best wife in the world, and haven't seen
her since ; had a good farm, and easily got a
good living ; came with no other ambition
than to serve and save my country. Many is
the time that I have sat all night on my horse,
and slept by turns as he was going, or lain
with the bridle about my arm." Another
boasts that he had descended from revolutiona
ry sires ; that he had a boy in the Western ar
my, and " one that will fight, too ;" that he
himself had been in twenty charges, and never
received a wound ; but that many a rebel had
«
been slashed with his old sabre.; that he
would pass the rest of his life in war, before
he would see the Federal Government go
down ; that this was the greatest war that ever
raged on the face of the earth, and that tho
men who took part in it would be dearer to
our descendants for transmitting liberty to
them, than those that fought under Cromwell

112 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
or Washington.. The next morning we are
relieved and arrive in camp about ten o'clock,
Besides the pickets and guards, two hundred
men are detailed in the rifle pits, to prevent
the enemy crossing the ford near the camp.
There are ditches, running zigzag, so deep as
to protect the soldiers, with the dirt throAvn
towards the place from which the attacking
party is supposed to come.
Jan. 27. — The same number of pickets,
guards and men to work on the rifle-pits are
detailed to-day as yesterday. But before noon
it begins to rain, and the men on fatigue are
called in. There are various rumors flying
through camp. " Burnside has thrown up his
•commission. His soldiers have thrown down
their arms, declaring that they would not fight
any longer."
Jan. 28.: — Stormy ; sleet and snow falling
all day ; but the pickets and guards tie the
haversackc close to their necks, and rubbers
over the shoulders, and start to relieve those
who have been on duty for twenty-four hours,
knowing that they, too, Avill be relieved the
same hour to-morroAV morning. Slowly, slow
ly, wear the hours aAvay, as the boys sit in the

OR, CAMP LIFE. 113
leaky bough-houses ; snow and rain now and
then splashing through the pine shelters ; and
nothing heard all day — all night — save the
roar of the muddy waters of the river rushing
madly by them. Before morning the snow is a
foot deep in the fields ; but this mud — mud —
in the roads.
Jan. 29. — The boys have waited patiently
since they have been mustered, for their pay.
Some are really in need of it ; fathers, whose
families depend mostly on their wages. Near
ly all are out of money ; and a soldier actually
needs a little, though fed by the government.
If he is unwell, and we happen to be living on
hard tack, he wants a piece of soft bread,
piece of cheese, or butter, which he can get of
the sutler by paying a high price. Some, how
ever, are better off without a cent. More than
one soldier have we seen unfit for duty, and
the surgeons say, " He buys too much stuff of
the sutler. He eats too many luxuries." The
paymaster arrives about dark, and we receive
two months' pay in green-backs. During the
next four days it rains and snows alternately.
We are almost blocked in with mud. A six
mule team, now up, now down, wading through.

114 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
comes in with two barrels of pork. Each day
a hundred and fifty are detailed to build cor
duroy roads. These are divided into squads,
strung along, and then work busily till they
meet. We cover the old road with trees from
four to ten inches in diameter, mostly pine ;
but if there are any chestnuts near by, we take
these, being soft to cut and fissile. Some cut
them down ; some carry them on their shoul
ders, and others place them side by side. By
the 5th of February, two-thirds of the eight
miles from the Station to camp, is corduroy
road. About this time I called at a citizen's
house to get a meal of victuals. The old man
was killing his hogs, and scalded them by
putting hot stones into the tub of water. His
house stands in the centre of a cleared spot, all
surrounded by pine forests which have been
encroaching on him for years. A Union sol
dier, one unable to do much duty, guards his
property. As I approach aud make known
my errand, I soon observe that the owner is
not in the best of humor for some reason, when
he turns up his red face and stares at me with
his blood-shot eyes : " Buy," he mutters, " sol
diers buy? They've stole all I've got that

OR, CAMP LIFE. 115
they could carry away — them devils that foi-
lowed Dan Sickles — my potatoes, my turkies,
and most all my cattle. I never had any nig
gers ; don't want them ; but if soldiers should
come into your country and steal your goods,
wouldn't you fight ? By the G — ds, wouldn't
you fight ? I still love the old Union ; but I
reckon it will be a long time before things
are settled ; and that proclamation will only
make more difficulty. Oh, this terrible war !
It will kill us all, I fear. We can hardly live
here between the two armies. All the sol
diers won't steal ; but there are some thieves
in the army as everywhere, and when they are
going through here they take what they want,
and I suppose the generals don't kn9w it.
You see this is a bad way of living ; but, sol
dier, I'm a Union man, and if you want a
meal, go in, and the women will get it," At
which I go in ; soon sit down to the table of
hoe-cake, cold beef, cabbage and coffee. As
the tract of land all around here is now held
by Northern, now by Southern soldiers, then
by neither, but the scene of almost single com
bat, where cavalry patrols on both sides scour,
where you can trace many and long lines of

116 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
pickets by the ashes of their posts, where
guerrillas lurk, where great armies have
met and fought most furiously, and the field
sometimes held by one side and sometimes by
the other, — so loyalty and disloyalty, by turns,
hold sway over the minds of most citizens, near
where we have camped.
Feb, 6. — Since here we have not got our
mail daily. This the boys don't like, and
blame the postmaster for it. Whisky rations
(a rare thing with us) were dealt out to the
soldiers last night. The Army regulations
say : " One gill of whisky is allowed daily, in
case of excessive fatigue and exposure." From
thistinje till the middle of March, our " fatigue
and exposure" were regarded so " excessive"
as that when the guards and pickets came in,
the coldest and stormiest mornings, the lieu
tenant takes them to the commissary, who gives
each a small drink. But last night it was oth
erwise. The most drank it ; some saved it for
future occasions, when possibly they might be
sick ; a few sold it to those too fond of it. So
occasionally one gets so much that he is noisy,
and somewhat irregular in his actions. This
morning one is drunk, and in for fighting. He

OR, CAMP LIFE. 117
speaks contemptuously to his lieutenant ;
strikes the corporal of the guard ; pays no at
tention to the officer of the day ; it takes four
or five to manage him and get him in the guard
house, and he bites one of them quite badly.
But he is not abused. He strikes them ; but
they do not return it, only hold him as well as
they can. As soon as his hands are tied be
hind him, he gives up in despair, and the poor
fellow cries like a child. The guard-house is
a wall tent, and no fire in it ; and being quite
cold, when he comes to himself, so as to misuse
no one, he is let out, and nothing more was
done with him. To-day we draw soft bread,
ihe first since we came here. But we get more
fresh meat, as beeves can be driven and butch
ered here easier than pork or beef drawn
through the mud. And our friends at home
are ever mindful of us. Hundreds of boxes
are sent to the brigade. Almost every day a
load comes to our regiment, filled with butter,
cheese, dried berries, and such as the soldiers
need. Feb. 7. — Save those detailed last night as
guards and pickets, the rest remain quielly in
cam]) ; or some perchance stroll over thorough

118 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
country around us. My friend. Sergeant
Boyce, invited me and a few others to take
supper with him, as he had lately received some
things from home. He, as the others, had
stockaded ; that is, had built a sort of a pen
with smallish logs, six or seven feet square,
four high, filled the cracks with mud, and fas
tened his tent to this. Within is a floor made
of slabs split out with the axe ; in the corner,
a small fireplace, (an aperture having been
made through the side of the stockade, and on
the outside a stack of stones for the chimney) ;
on one side is a bunk, where three sleep, coa'-
ered Avith blankets, and constructed of round
poles ; on it is a hard tack box, — a fine writing
desk. Around the rough walls hang guns,
bayonets, equipments, canteens and haversacks.
He had fixed up a table for the occasion, run
ning across one side of his castle, and blocking
up the door, so that he has to remove a part of
it for us to enter. We came a little early, and
soon the sergeant
" Turns, on ho.spitablc thought intent;
What choice to choose for delicacy best,
What order, so contriven as not to mi.v
Tastes not well joined, inelegant, but bring
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change —
 and on the board
Heaps with unsparing hand,"'

OR, CAMP LIFE.

119

plum preserves, mince pies, pudding filled with
raisins, honey, and much more. Though the
camp has been so quiet for several days, at elev
en o'clock at night the long roll is beat and the
soldiers spring for their arms.

CHAPTER X.
The picket line of the twelfth and thir
teenth regiments has been extended up the riA-
er about five miles. Some of the fords are two
miles apart ; others in sight of each other. At
some of the principal ones several cavalry are
also posted, to report quickly to the headquar
ters, in case of a sudden attack, whilst the in
fantry are to prevent any crossing, if possible,
but if not, then to retreat towards camp, fir
ing. A little affair occurred on the night of
the seventh, that caused some laughter among
the boys. A cavalry man is standing on his
beat, when he imagines (so say his comrades,
and that he had given false alarms before,
which is really a grave offence,) that he sees a
rebel. Now he fires his pistol four times, and
thinks his enemy returning the shots. The
horse is scared, turns, and gallops toAvards the
reserve, throwing off the more frightened rider.
Instantly the pickets are out, for they lie down
11 [121]

122 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
with equipments on, and the guns by their
sides, running for the rifle pits. As they meet
him, no cap on : " What's the matter ? Are
you shot ?" quickly asks Capt. Blake. " No,
no — theyv'e shot my horse under me. For
God's sake don't let 'em across." By this time
all are convinced that the coward is more
alarmed than hurt ; but the posts above and
below have heard the reports, and pass the sig
nal up and down the winding river, by dis
charging their rifles. Soon all is quiet; the
soldiers in their bough-houses, save those on
the beats possibly peering more sharply through
the darkness.
For the next four days there is hardly a rip
ple in camp life, (then only small jogs) . . In
deed a soldier's life may be likened to a stream,
to-day, calm and placid as the blue heavens ;
to-morrow, swollen beyond its banks, all the
vale a surging sea, sweeping on with terrible
fury, and after many fair and sunny days it re
turns to its old channel. You see a thousand
faces together, none looking just alike, yet so
near, it might even tax the painter's genius to
point out each difference. So are many quiet
days in camp, one very Uke the other.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 123
Feb. 12. — A hundred men are sent across
the river, with spades and picks, to demolish a
rebel fort, that covers the shoals, situated on a
higher point than any on this side. To-day our
line has been extended farther west ; and just
before evening more are called for as pickets.
Hurriedly they start off, but do not reach their
post till it is so dark that they can hardly see
any thing. For two miles they pick their way
through the forests and thick underwood that
stand on the rough bluffs of Bull Run.
Feb. 13.— Now every street in camp is cor
duroy, that is, between the rows of tents, and
a long one running in front of the officer's
quarters, up by the hospital, commissary's
and sutler's. To the 26th, no change ; noth
ing but picketing, dress parade, guarding, tar
get shooting, getting rations, cooking, and the
thousand and one little things for amusement.
There is a little snow on the ground ; but the
middle of the day is warm, and frequently one-
half the regiment is arrayed against the other,
throwing snow balls, as they were wont in their
school-boy days ; and, when one side gives
away, then comes the rush, the boisterouj
laughter, and the shout of victory, quite as

124 THE SECOND BRIGADE ;
loud as if it were no mimic fray. Many while
away the evening hours before tattoo, writing
letters, reading newspapers and chatting ;
some playing cards or checkers, now for fun,
and now betting the apples or raisins, and
when the game is over, the loser starts for the
sutler, and soon returns with them ; some whit
tling rings and pipes out of the laurel root, beau
tifully engraving on them the American eagle,
the stripes and stars, and patriotic inscriptions
like this : "Union and liberty, now and forever,"
The health of the brigade is fine. We get
soft bread three days out of five, and fresh
beef in the same proportion ; a daily mail ;
wood and water easily ; and as the nights grow
shorter and warmer, all, unless it happens to
storm, had as lief go on picket as remain in
camp. The 26th and 27th are warm and pleasant
days, like those the last of March in New Eng
land. You meet one, and the first remark, af
ter saluting, is, " 't is a beautiful day" ; " a
lovely spring-like morning ;" " spring is com
ing," and such like expressions.
No small change is observable in the papers
that came about two months ago, and those
that have arrived lately. The editorials of the

OR, CAMP LIFE. 125
former were full of despondency ; of the lat
ter, hope and courage. We give a few ex
tracts :
" As when in a great storm, the elements furiously
warring, and the angry bolts seem to have wasted their
strength, and roll muttering off, as if to gather new
force, there is a sort of a pause, a lull, though deep,
black clouds hang over head and all around, so now in
our national affairs, after the three great and terrific
battles that have just closed, 1862 went out in blood.
The last ten days were passed in gigantic battles.
Three times we struck at the enemy, — at Fredericks
burgh, Murfresboro' and Vicksburgh, — and twice the
blows were parried, and heavier ones dealt on our
selves ; and this moment the nation is staggering. Or,
the least that can be said, these defeats operate on the
people as it does on one, when he has taxed all his
powers, mental or physical, or both, toiling, day and
night, month after month, cheered on by the hope of
success, and then finally fails, utterly fails."
" It is of no use to conceal the truth. The fall cam
paigns have been most disastrous to us. After the bat
tle of Antietam, — ^the rebels retreating, and our own
recruits were pouring in so fast, — all were looking for
the capture of Richmond. But for this, it is a defeat,
a great slaughter, on the Rappahannock, a repulse at
Vl cksburgh, and a drawn battle at Murfreesboro'."
" Gloom, impenetrable gloom, hangs over the land.'.'
" This revolution seems to be an exception to most
others. No man has yet risen in the field, or the coun
cils of the nation, equal to the crisis."
But gradually the people have risen above
those defeats, and the papers speak in a differ
ent tone :
" If one were to judge to.-day, by the appearance of
nature only, by the cold winds, by the fields again white
with snow, he would think it the middle of winter ;

126 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
but if he walked out yesterday morning,. and saw how
the tender grass was shooting u|) fresh and green ; how
the buds of the trees were beginning to swell ; how
the solar rays did not fall so obliquely as last Decem
ber ; and how the newly retumed birds were making
the air vocal with their'song, he would have exclaimed
" Summer is at hand." So might one, in times of our
defeats, — if he looked only at that defeat, as many do
judge in this way, — say: "The rebellion will suc
ceed" ; but when we consider how much territory, how
many cities and strong holds we have captured from
the enemy, there can be no doubt as to the result of
this war."
"The present Congress is showing itself equal to
the tasks before it ; and what is better, the people give
unquestionable signs that they had rather sweat blood
and gold much longer than see the unity of the Repub
lic destroyed."
" There is a fly in some parts of Africa, that is wont
to sting the natives on the leg. It leaves a little egg,
and from this grows a snake, dark, poisonous,^ some
two feet long. If it is extracted, and no part of it left,
to poison the system, the afflicted man recovers. Like
this has slavery grown up in America. At the forma
tion of our government it was but a little egg in tho
giant leg of liberty. But from it has sprung the mon
strous serpent of slavery. The enemies of our coun
try — more unwise than the simple African— oppose ex
traction, and go in for amputation. Now this war will
produce a complete extraction.; the wound will finally
heal ; and we shall have a strong central government,
(tround which will revolve these many states, as the
planets around the sun ; and the Avhole continent dedi
cated anew to Liberty and to God."
" This is but a continuation, on this continent, of
the great struggle that has been going on in Europe
for ages, between slavery and liberty. Who, after such
examples as the Gorman Puritans set, in opposing the
Papal despot, can think of abandoning the sacred trust
committed to us ?"
"Who can estimate the importance of closing a war
successfully, especially, if as here, it is between two
civilizations? The effects 'of Alexander's campaigns,
which took place more than two thousand years ago, are

OR, CAMP LIFE. 127
still visible in Asia. Whichever side finaUy triumphs
in America, it is clear, that its civilization will inevita
bly spread over the rest of the continent. Since this
is so, if we could afford to submit to the destruction of
the Federal Government ; to give up the Mississippi
into the hands of a foreign power ; to exchange the
sea coast for a zigzag boundary line ; and much more ;
certain it is that we never can, never shall suffer a slave
oligarchy to dominate over the American continent."
If there is any thing more important than
that American soldiers should be fed well,
clothed well, and paid well, (as they are,)
it is, that they should know to a certain
ty, as long as there is a single dollar or
man that is able to bear arms, left in the
North, that the war shall never be abandon
ed till every armed foe of the Republic is sub
dued. If any one wishes to make his friend
uneasy in the army, he had better send him
those papers which are continually finding
fault with the administration, and with the,
conduct of the war in the field, and predicting
defeat to our armies and ruin to our nation.
" They fly !" " They fly !" " Who fly ?"
" The French." " I die in peace," breathes
the expiring Wolfe. Next to the Christian's
hope, that which is most consoling to a soldier,
if he must fall, is to know that his life is not to
be given in vain. But I must close my writ-

128

THE SECOND BRIGADE.

ing now ; for the adjutant has just hurried
down the line of officers* tents ; sticks his
head in and says, " Be ready to march at a
moment's notice ; — two day's rations."

CHAPTER XI.
" Come, gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come !"
A not much greater change is observable in
nature than in the soldiers. Faces are bright
er ; steps quicker ; many, who complained two
months ago, praise now, and say, " A soldier's
life is not very hard, after alL" Spring, with
its fresh breezes, is always welcome, though
one dwells in a palace ; how much more so to
we soldiers, that live, as it were, in the open
air. It is so warm that the boys bathe them
selves in the little stream near camp. Yester
day a few rebel cavalry made a dash on our
picket line to the west of us. As soon as it is
known, it is telegraphed to Fairfax Court
House, and thence to us. But they were soon
beaten off, and we were not ordered to march.
March 2. — Since we came here, there has
been no drilling, on account of the snow and
mud. To-day tJiere was battalion drill. At
night, after most are lain down, orders are sent
[129]

130 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
through camp for all to be ready to march.
There is not much of a stir. All place their
guns and equipments where they can get them
quickly in the dark. Soon the soldiers are
asleep, and never knew why the orders came,
only that there were rumors of the enemy near
us. March 3. — Battalion drill.
March 4. — The whole day is spent in clean
ing the camp. The streets are swept, brush
picked and burned, sinks filled up and new
ones dug, cook stands and tents examined by
the surgeon, and censured or praised, accord
ing to their neatness ; in short, there was a
general "clean up," just as the ladies, after the
winter has passed away and spring returned,
have their houses scrubbed and white-washed
from cellar to garret.
March 9. — Nothing has occurred till this
morning to break the monotony of camp life.
Frequently we have heard of the raids of guer
rillas, always above or below us, but never in
front, on some part of the picket line ; and so
frequently have we been ordered to be ready
to march at a moment's notice, that most care
no more for such orders than when they come

OR, CAMP LIFE. 181
for us to fall in for dress parade, which we
have at half past four or five in the afternoon
of each day. Indeed, last night I heard a sol
dier talking to some others in this way : " Dr.
Kane shows us in his Polar Expedition that
one's appetite changes as he goes from a warm
er to a colder climate, and that he really hank
ers after more fat ; just so now and then you
see one whose thirst for rebel blood increases
or decreases, as he goes North or South, near
or farther from the enemy ; and some of those
hypocrites at home, all out of harm's way, are
perfectly ravenous." " Good ! for that militia
bill that's just passed Congress," breaks in an
other. " I know some ten or fifteen miserable
copperheads, and some that don't belong to the
snaky tribe, who preach war up to the handle,
that might as well be here as you and I. But,
boys, nothing would suit me better, although
I might run, than to get my eyes on to a live
rebel, to see what kind of animal Accenting
the last syllable) he is ; but I don't believe we
ever shall."
The brigade is situated as it was when we
first came to this place ; two regiments here,
three at Fairfax Station, and the headquarters

132 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
at Fairfax Court House, a little more than four
miles in the rear of the nearest of our regi
ments, and guarded by nearly a hundred men.
But there usually were a body of cavalry camp
ed near them. This morning it was telegraph
ed to Col. Blunt that the rebels had made a
raid on the village last night ; carried off Gen,
Stoughton,, his aids, guard, and some fifty
horses. In a moment the news runs through
the regiments. Some believe it ; others do
not. But it is soon known to be a fact that
they had made a sudden dash and carried off
the General, a few guards and a number of
horses. The gang was led by Mosby, and
came in to the west of our picket line. They
enter the town slyly, not far from midnight,
capturing the guards on their beats, one by
one, not even disturbing the reserve. A few,
easily overpowering the guard in front, go into
the General's house and quickly rouse him
from slee^, with no alternative left, but to
dress, mount his horse, and ride rapidly as
possible till out of the reach of pursuit. There
were fifty of the rebels. All escaped with
their booty, with no injury, as they got two
hours the start of our cavalry. All day there

OR, CAMP LIFE. IX,
is much talk about this little affair, hoAV many
prisoners, how many horses, how much proper-
erty, and how much the start of us they had
got. Col. Blunt assumes command of the brig
ade. We hear nothing more from the enemy
till the 12th, when it is telegraphed that their
cavalry were crossing the Rappahannock, in
order tliat our pickets might keep a sharper
look out.
March 13. — You see the soldiers out as in
January, gloves and overcoats on, carrying
wood for fires in their tents :
" As 3'et the trembling year is unconfirmVl.
And winter oft at eve resumes the oreeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving slect.^
Deform the d.iy delightless."
Bj this time we have cut out and burned
the most of the timber on a number of acres
near camp. One would hardly think that we
pitched our tents in a thick forest. But such
it was, on the top of a high bluff, sloping east
and west, and running north and south doAvn
to the Occoquan. At night the enemy, em
boldened by their first success, make another
raid on Fairfax, of about the same number as
before. But instead of catching a General,

134 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
they lose seventeen horses and the same number
of men, (such is rumor,) who are sent to Wash-
ton. The headquarters of the brigade are now
at the Station.
March 15. — In the afternoon the long roll
is beaten ; the regiraent called into line ; arras
are stacked, and we are told to be ready to
start at a moment's notice. A few guerillas
came down the other side of the river and fir
ed at some of our cavalry ; but this was all,
and the last that was seen of them. The pick
ets were strengthened during the night. The
camp guards have been allowed, through the
cold weather, to go to their tents as soon as
relieved ; but lately one relief has been kept at
the guard-house all the time, as rebel cavalry
are prowling about more nights. These are
not large bodies, varying from ten to two hun
dred. Many of them are citizens, clad in the
uniform of Union soldiers, who know every
hill, valley, by-path and hiding place from the
Potomac to the Rappahannock. Says one,
and so some think, when chagrined by some of
their midnight exploits, that neither hastens
the war to a close or protracts it : " I would
like the conduct of the war long enough to

OB, CAMP LIFE. 135
set the torch to every house in Dixie. Ought
the heads of these vile traitors to be sheltered
for one night even, here almost in sight of the
tomb of Washington, who spring like tigers at
the throat of the freest and best nation on the
face of the earth ?" But another replies :
" Revenge dictates in this way ; but ' revenge,
at first, though sweet, ere long back on itself
recoils.' One of the most disgraceful acts
recorded in history, is, that the king of France
once burned every house in a district in Ger
many, and thereby sent half a million of wo
men and children homeless and beggars into
the world. Now, since this war could not be
avoided, we ought to thank Heaven that so
good a man as Mr. Lincoln is at the head of
affairs. We call him too lenient ; the rebels,
too severe, — a sure sign that he is about right.
When we call to get a meal of victuals at any
of the citizens', they treat us well, and do not
ask a high price for what they sell us. Wheth
er the men are loyal or disloyal, or neutral, it
will not do to turn the women and children
houseless into the country."
March 17. — Yesterday it stormed, so we
start for the picket line this morning in four or

136 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
five inches of snow ; but about noon it begins
to grow warmer, and before the next day the
fields are bare. The river rises rapidly. Al
most " palpable darkness" hugs the valley.
Only two nights before, a cavalry post of five
was captured three miles below us. This, and
a few rumors, open the boys' ears. The sound
of the rising stream, spreading over new lands,
dashing against different stones and trees,
changes of course every movement. As one's
thoughts, when walking his beat, turn away to
other scenes, — home and friends — and then re
turn, the river is thundering in a strange jar
gon. Then the picket, ever present, ever
watchful, stoops and strains his eyes to peer
through the dark. " It may be a ' reb,' " is
the first thought. One, just aboA'c me, taking
deadly aim at a skulking bushwhacker, shoots
his rifle at midnight ; but shoots into the noisy,
rushing waters. The report rolls up and doAvn
the wandering Occoquan, from post to post.
The sleepy boys (not those watching now) lying
around the fires on cedar or pine browse, coa'-
ered, feet, head and body, with blankets, start
up instantly, and in a low tone : " What's
that ?" " Is a gun tired ?" " Hark ! hark !"

OR. CAMP LIFE. 137
says the picket on the beat : " only one yet,"
They, leaning on their elbows, listen awhile ;
and hearing no more reports of rifles, lie down
again to their sleep, muttering : " Some fool was
frightened," As we were going back the next
morning to camp, the soldiers, for sport, ask
Hucklebone many questions about the " reb"
he had killed.
On the 22d five cavalry come galloping into
our camp bareheaded, and before it is fairly
light. Some guerrillas had attacked the post
just before morning, and captured a portion
of it.
March 24. — Before daylight a few sick were
started off for the hospitals in Washington, in
the ambulances. Fifty are sent over the river,
in pursuit of wagons covered with cloth, as
some thought ; but when they reach the spot,
only white cows are to be seen. Crossing and
recrossing was accomplished slowly, as they
were paddled over in a newly made boat that
leaked so that two men were needed to dip out
the water, A few days ago ten privates and
two sergeants were detailed to act as scouts.
One of these, just before roll call, comes into
camp, who has " got track of some rebs," he

138 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
says. So in fifteen or twenty minutes, ninety
men and officers — all volunteers — are starting
down the river, guided by the Scout of the Oc
coquan, a romantic nickname that somebody
had given the to tallest scout, and one whose
fondness for roving was never surpassed by a
wild Indian's. It is a warm night, but dark,
and at times raining furiously.
March 25. — Early five companies are scout
ing over the country within four or five miles
of camp. I, with others, go on picket. Just
as we were starting, those who had gone out
the night before came plodding in. I see one
stick his head out at the door of his tent, smil
ing, as he looked at the long streaks of dirt on
their healthy faces; where the rain had coursed
freely down during the night, and say : " What
did you get, boys ?" " Git !" replies an old
Irishman, half in anger, " don't ye see we git
tired legs, hungry bellies and wet backs." The
fourteenth regiment is now camped near us ;
the fifteenth and sixteenth are at Union Mills ;
the headquarters of the brigade are there also.
We have a pleasant day on picket ; a plenty to
eat of soft bread, fresh beef, sugar and coffee.
The air is filled Avith the song of birds by day.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 139
and the ceaseless peeping of frogs by night.
It is thought that rebel cavalry are within the
lines ; and hence we have orders to be very
watchful, and send all to camp, who are wand
ering about the post, whether soldiers or cit
izens. April 1. — For several days the camp has
been unusually quiet ; no rumors ; no raids on
any part of the picket line kept up by our
brigade. Everybody has enjoyed to-day;
warm, sunshiny ; and almost all have been
April-fools. " Theirs was the glee of martial breast.
And laughter theirs at little jest."
During the afternoon it is noised about that
we are going on a march in the morning. Ma
ny think that this is only a jest.

CHAPTER XII.
¦ April 2. — So acquisitive a being as a Yankee
cannot remain two months in one place without
collecting more materials than one man ought to
carry on a march. The soldiers this morning,
after selecting the choicest things, slung their
knapsacks, crowded to the utmost. The warm
sun is shining on the fresh, green earth ; the
trees are just leafing out ; the little birds are
singing their sweet matins ; and one can scarce
believe that war, mad, furious and desolating
war, is in the land. But stop, only two nights
ago they say that a picket post of twenty cav
alry was captured, down the river eight or ten
miles ; and that Ave are going to defend the
place. So it is. The loaded teams go around
by the road ; we, along the banks of the Occo
quan, up and down ragged bluffs, so rough and
steep that the regiment is scattered ; one here,
one there ; the right wing only a quarter of a
mile in advance, but still out of sight. At noon
[141]

142 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
we halt ; make coffee in our little cups, and
eat dinner, of soft bread and fresh beef, which
we have brought in the haversacks, , Before
two o'clock we and the teams have arrived at
the place of encampment, near the main road
running from Alexandria to Fredericksburgh,
in a dense forest of pines. Immediately some
are making stockades ; but a stop is soon put
to this, by the Colonel's saying that it was
growing warm so fast there was no need of it.
It is a hot day, and the sweat rolled down the
soldiers' red cheeks like rain. Whisky ra
tions are dealt out to all. Before night the
tents are pitched, and most have constructed
bunks of round poles to sleep on. At half past
seven the long roll is beat, quick — quick, — as
if the enemy were close upon us. The boys
seize their arms, and almost instantly are in
line. The reason of it was this : the woods
seemed full of wild hogs, when we first came
here. This is too tempting a lure for some.
Though strict orders have often been read in
the past against shooting guns near camp, the
roar of the rifles comes thicker and thicker,
mingled with shouts and boisterous laughter, as
the bristly animal gives up the chase. But,

OR, CAMP LIFE. 143
"Hark!" "The long roll! The long roll !"
Now the legs of the excited hunters are flying
through the dark forest, towards the blazing
camp fires. But as they come in, they are tak
en and ordered to guard the camp during the
night. April 3. — Early the Colonel rides around to
discover the best site for a camp ; and one
company is sent on picket. By ten we are car
rying our things towards the newly selected
spot, — an open, level field, in sight of the Po
tomac ; and yet pines are growing, noAv in
thick clumps, and now more scatteringly, over
the most of the plantation. The camp is laid
out regularly. There are twenty rows of par
allel tents ; two for each company, with streets
a rod wide. A little in the rear of these, and
forming right angles with them, is the long line
of tents belonging to the captains and lieuten
ants ; next, those of the field officers ; then
you come to the hospital ; and still on, among
the trees, are hitched the horses and mules.
Many lug, on their backs, poles for their bunks,
from the last night's encampment. At the us
ual time we have dress parade, and also our
mail.

144 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
April 4, — One company a day does the pick
eting. There are three posts on the main
roads near camp, and two fords and one ferry
to be guarded. It is said that this line is to
be defended by cavalry, and that we are going
back near Washington, Time will show how
this is, " We may stay here a week," says
one ; " and we may a month," replies another ;
" I've no care which it is, a week or a month,"
continues the next, " But wherever this brig
ade is, no rebel will turn his tracks that way,
unless he has made up his mind to commit sui
cide, and takes that course to get rid of him
self, suddenly and honorably," At half past
eight my company is starting off to relieve the
old pickets. A lieutenant, sergeant and ten
privates are stationed at the ferrry opposite
Occoquan Village, — a place of some thrift be
fore the war. A part of the inhabitants are
loyal, a part disloyal ; and both abandon their
homes, and go back to them, as that army to
which their sympathies belong recedes or ad
vances ; and still a third class call themselves
neutral, a sort of amphibious aniraals, now in
the slough of treason, and then out, whichever
Avill profit thera most. One is stationed on the

OR, CAMP LIFE. 145
beat at a time; and is relieved each hour.
He gets the following instructions : " Keep a
sharp watch up and down the river, and also
in the rear of us ; for it is reported that rebel
cavalry are within our lines, and if they capture
this post, they can cross and recross on the fer
ry as much as they choose." The rest of us
are glad to turn into a very dirty shop, stand
ing on the side of the bluff ; for before noon it
begins to storm, and continues till the next
day, when we go back in a foot of snow. The
soldiers at the two fords above us suffered far
more than we, as they had nothing but bough-
houses to shelter them. The boys are much
delighted to exchange their salt pork for fresh
herrings, which the citizens are just beginning
to catch with their nets,
April 15, — As we arrive in camp, we find
that many have sought covering in the nearest
houses and bams. The storm came upon us all
unprepared. None have built "fire-places, and
but few have stoves, " This," says one, " is
not so bad as a defeat ; for it chills our bodies
only and not our spirits," " The next disaster
that befalls the Union armies," answers anoth
er, " I shall set down as a snow storm in April,

146 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
which hides from us only for a day the sure
signs of coming spring, — the wild flowers and
the green scattering grass, — and soon the earth
is fresher and greener than before. But if
we've had a specimen of the ' sunny south', I'd
as soon desert the girl I love best, and marry
a wench, as, after the war, bid farewell to old
New England, thinking to live on the barren
plains and hills of Virginia," Those tents
where there are fires, are crowded full. At
night there is no roll-call, and early the boys
lie down, covered with their blankets.
April 6, 7. — Both days are warm, and both
are passed with us in making our tents more
comfortable. On the night of the 7th, it is
thought there is difficulty on the picket line,
for some reason. So a lieutenant and twenty-
five soldiers are sent down only a mile's dis
tance, through the mud and dark ; but the
disturbance is only imaginary,
April 8, — Col, George J, Stannard is pro
moted Brigadier General, and assigned to the
' command of this brigade. Two regiments and
the headquarters are at Union Mills ; two at
Wolf Run Shoals ; and ours a mile north of
Occoquan village, which is situated on the

OR, CAMP LIFE. 147
banks of a small bay of the same name ; all
keeping up about twenty miles of the front
line in the Department of Washington. In the
afternoon, battalion drill.
April 9, 10. — Drilling both days.
April 11. — The regiment is mustered. It
is said that all are, to learn the exact number
of fighting men. " What does this mean ?"
asks one, (for we commonly are mustered the
last day of every other month), " It means,"
replies another soldier, " that we have fun with
the ' rebs,' and ' right smart, too, I reckon,'
(imitating the native Virginians ;) fighting Joe
is'nt the fellow to lie idle much longer. And
when he strikes, he will give them a wound
that won't stop bleeding in one day ; and will
send them running in a way they won't look
back before they reach Richmond, So it
wouldn't be very wonderful if the Second Brig
ade should be picketing on the Rappahannock
instead of the Bull Run and Occoquan, next
month. Or, some say that we shall be trans
ferred into the army of the Potomac soon ; and
for my part I would like to see it, that we
might prove to the old soldiers that they should

¦148 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
call us ' Casey's lions' sooner than ' Casey's
pets,' "
April 25. — In looking over my diary for the
last fortnight I find nothing but " picketing,"
" guarding," " battalion drills" and " pleasant
days." Though in the morning each company
sweeps its street, in a short time, without the
greatest care on the part of all, the vicinity of
the camp becomes dirty. All the boys have
been policing, that is, cleaning the camp and
the adjacent lands.
April 26. — Review. In the morning, hair
is cut, whiskers trimmed, boots made to shine
a little brighter ; in fine, the " finishing touch"
is put on to everything, as our General is pres
ent, for the first time. The review passes off
finely and agreeably to all,
April 27, — Battalion drill in the morning.
At the dote, the regiment is formed into a
square ; Gen, Stannard is introduced, and
makes a short speech ; the soldiers give him
three loud and hearty cheers ; then the officers
are called forward, and introduced personally
to him by Col, Randall, — the General shaking
each by the hand warmly.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 149'
April 28, — Three or four from each compa
ny are usually permitted to visit Mount Vernon
a day, which is about twelve miles northeast of
our camp. Many have turned their faces that
way to-day. But I will not give an account of
our pilgrimage to this sacred shrine, since oth
ers have done it so often before ; but suffice it
to say that we had a most pleasant ride over
the hilly, wood-covered country ; and strange,
though not unpleasing sensations, as we, as sol
diers, looked in upon the sarcophagus holding
the ashes of Washington ; and also, most hos
pitable treatment at the loyal village of Acco-
tink, where we put up during the night. This
is the first time that I have slept in a bed since
leaving home ; but I have become so accustom
ed to my pine bunk, that my comrades affirm,
after ten o'clock at night, the rebels could drag
me off, without disturbing my slumbers.
April 29. — We receive four months' pay.
April 30. — Mustered,
May 1, — A holiday with us ; warm and love
ly as one can imagine. All, save the guards
and pickets, take a stroll and come back to
camp with a bunch of wild flowers or peach
blows.

150 THE SECOND BRIGADE^
May 2. — Drilling ; and rumors, that Hooker
is moving ; and we have heard cannonading
the most of this afternoon.
Picket Post, near Occoquan Village, Va., 1
Sunday Morning, May 3, 1863. \
My dear Father and Mother : — You will
have heard of the great battle now going on
near Fredericksburg, before this shall reach
you. It is a still. Sabbath morning; not a
cloud in the sky ; and all nature clad in the
freshness and beauty of spring. Since day
light we have heard the roar of cannon grow
ing heavier and heavier, till now it almost
shakes the solid rocks on which I am writing.
Our brigade has not yet been ordered to move,
and we may not be, though we could doubtless
reach the scene of conflict before it will have
ended. Sunday Evening. — We at this post have
been busy all day ferrying sutlers across the
river, who arrive from the army of the Poto
mac. They all bring one report : " Hooker is
thrashing the rebels." They no sooner reach
the opposite shore than some of our boys run
quickly down and ask : " What's the news
from the old army ?" " Fighting ; fighting all

OR. CAMP LIFE. 151
along the line ; but we are laying them out
good," and many such expressions. They say
that a number of regiments have volunteered,
whose time of service had expired, to fight dur
ing this battle. Our boys gave three cheers for
them ; and are ready to start any moment. All
feel that Government has done what it can to
make us comfortable. And now if this brigade is
called upon to face danger, they will do it
like heroes ; mark that. But this picket line
must be kept up, and we may not move at all.
Monday Morning, May 4. — We heard can
nonading until late in the evening. We are to
be relieved from this post soon ; have heard
from camp, and the whole brigade is under
marching orders, and expect to start in a few
hours. You shall hear again as soon as affairs
are more settled ; but I must close now, as the
postmaster will soon be on his way to Union
Mills with the mail.
Your affectionate son.

CHAPTER xm.
May 4, noon. — " The A tents, and every
thing that we cannot easily carry on our backs,
are to be loaded on to the wagons and sent at
once to Alexandria," is the first thing we heard
as we came in from the picket line. All in
great haste are packing their overcoats, draw
ers, shirts (for hereafter each will have but
two), and such as have two blankets, one of
these, into boxes, to be carried to the rear,
" This looks a little as though we were strip
ping for a fight," said a soldier, as he came in
to my tent, and found me in doubt whether to
send one, or both, or neither of my blankets,
" Should rather have none than carry two these
hot days," he ccmtinued, "and we shall be off be
fore night," Those unable to march and fight
are carried to some general hospital.
May 5. — Early the heavy baggage is sent
back. Our regiment still retains the A tents ;
the others have the shelter tents. We have
[153]

154 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
heard some firing most of the day ; are still
under marching orders. As the P, M, comes
in with papers, the soldiers fairly run to get
them. One will read aloud in the open air,
whilst fifteen or twenty are listening. In them
are such headings as this : " Glorious News !
Glorious news ! Hooker is driving the enemy
at all points !"
May 6, — Last night it rained, and is now
much cooler. " Hooker has gained a great
victory ;" " thousands of prisoners are arriv
ing at Washington ;" " we shall be on the
Rappahannock soon." These rumors are flying
through camp. Still under marching orders ;
and still expecting, and ready and willing, each
hour to go the next. The next two days are
quite cold, dark and stormy.
May 9. — All are delighted to see the sun
again, as they have parted with so much of
their clothing. The most are convinced that
the army of the Potomac has retreated to the
north side of the river. Many are the opin
ions expressed as to how much injury each has
received ; some inclining one way, and some
the other. About this time, Capt. Munson, of
our regiment, is promoted Lieutenant Colonel,

OR, CAMP LIFE. 155
in place of A, C, Brown, resigned ; and Capt.
Boynton promoted Major, in place of L. D.
Clark, resigned.
May 14 — Pleasant days, and all quiet till
this morning. At nine o'clock the orderly,
who was carrying dispatches and the mail to
headquarters, came galloping his horse into
camp. " The ' rebs' have got the teams," he
quickly cries ; and " the ' rebs' have got the
teams" quickly flies to every tent. There is
a space of some two miles that is unfordable,
between the two regiments, during the high
waters of spring ; and supposed to be so now,
and hence not picketed. Here a little band of
eight rebel cavalry cross, each armed with
two pistols, and lie in ambush in thick trees,
near where our teams almost daily go to the
station, — out three miles from camp. As the
three teams — ^twelve mules and four horses, —
and with the drivers happened to be two ser
geants, all unarmed — were just emerging from
the dark forest, the enemy pounced upon them,
cocking their pistols, and ejaculating : " Halt !
halt ! there, you d — d Yankees." Resistance
is sure death, producing no good ; for the reb
els would have got the horses, which they were

156 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
after. Soon all are mounted and steering for
the river. Meanwhile we have heard of the
affair, and start, now on quick, now double
quick time, one company directly for the ford,
and three others, down the road, and then on
the tracks of the flying guerrillas. But alas !
we come to the stream, tired, panting like
blood-hounds, a little too late, just as the pur
sued have crossed.
May 15, 16. — Both days companies have
been scouting over the river ; and the result is,
we have more horses than we had before our
teams were captured. Our soldiers, who had
been captured on the 14th, came in. They had
been paroled, when a little south of the Bull
Run battle field ; but not according to the car
tel. The last part of May is made up of pleas
ant days, one like the other ; but not more so
than the duties of one day are like those of the
other. There is more sickness than usual in
the brigade. My company lost two soldiers, —
Cyren Thayer and Charles Billings.
May 29. — Since here, we have drawn all the
soft bread that we can eat. But it is now
getting so warm that it soon dries. So in
each tent you see a cellar a foot and a half

OR, CAMP LIFE. 157
square, and as deep, and in it, moist bread and
a canteen of cool water. Through April, cattle
Avero driven up from Fairfax Station, from
which are brought all of our rations, a distance
of about eight miles, and butchered near camp,
giving us what fresh beef we wanted. But
during May, only a few have been slaughtered
each week, OAving to the hot weather. Many
buy milk, and some eggs, of the citizens, and
nearly all get what fresh fish they want. The
most purchase them, or exchange some of their
rations ; but I have known of old fishermen,
when on picket, sitting nearly all night on the
rocks, hooking out eels and hornpouts. Since
the ground has become dry, many are the
amusements . After the drilling is over, to
wards evening, the wide, level space, in front
ofthe camp, is crowded with soldiers. Many
are playing ball. The most expert choose up,
and one is to keep tally ; now they strip off
coats, and sweating and eager as to the result,
push on the lively game. Some are pitching
quoits, all boisterous, joyous as school boys at
home. It is now dark, and one street is light
ed, not with golden chandeliers, but candles
stuck in bayonets, and these'hanging in mimic

158 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
shade trees. One is playing on the fiddle, an
other on the banjo, for the many to " chase the
glowing hour with flying feet."
May 30. — On picket. The night is really
splendid. The blue bay of Occoquan, many
feet below us, gives back the shining moon and
stars, the air not uncomfortably hot, and just
wind enough to stir the luxuriant foliage of oaks
near our post. Then there is the noise of the
river to the right of us, (here it empties itself
into the bay,) dashing against huge rocks ; of
the whippoorwill, singing its own name, by
turns, all night, and often imitated by the sol
diers ; and of yelping curs, and now and then,
loud baying, barking blood-hounds, disturbed
in their kennels.
May 31. — May closes on Sunday. The re
view is just before evening, it being so hot.
June 1. — There are many rumors of Lee's
movements and of Mosby's raids. The latter
had attacked and burned some of our cars,
four miles south of Union Mills, but a few days
ago, loaded with forage for the army of the
Potomac. But Gen. Stahl's cavalry pursued,
captured their artillery and a number of pris
oners. We get daily papers frora Washington,

OR, CAMP LIFE. 159
and many are the hopes and fears expressed
after reading them, for Gen. Grant, in the rear
of Vicksburg; and various are the opinions,
now that he will get the stronghold, and now
that he will finally be repulsed, as Sherman
was the fall before. A soldier said to me, who
carefully watches every move : " For a long
while my friend was sick with the fever •, and
for awhile I anxiously watched over him, at
one time seeraing better and then worse ; and
when he went to the hospital, twice a day I
used to call and see him, and as the disease
was culminating, and I looked on his pale face
and glassy, wandering eyes, I trembled and
fairly held my breath, lest he should die any
moment ; but when I saw that he was gaining
a little, my heart leaped wilh indescribable
joy. So," said the noble soldier, " I've been
watching over the brave boys in the rear of
Vicksburgh, and can hardly wait for my daily
paper to come in. 0 God, give them victory."
June 7. — The first days of June are hot, and
camp life inactive. I have Paradise Lost with
me, and have read, and re-read it. Not un
pleasantly I have been passing a few days in
perusing Tom Moore's works, which a soldier

160 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
had borrowed of a citizen. As I closed Lalla
Rookh, I could but think that a great many in
our own country very much resemble old Fad-
ladeen, the critic. When he learns that Fer-
amorez is no poor minstrel, but really none oth
er than the King of Bucharia, and the bride
groom of the beautiful queen, his sour criti
cisms are changed at once into wonderful prais
es. Just so many of the opponents of the gov-
ernment are made friendly to it, as the tide
of war turns. Indeed, we have seen some
of these half traitors almost grow pale, and
mute as a dumb stone, at the great successes of
Grant around the key of the Mississippi, fear
ing to change their tone too suddenly.
We have just heard that Capt. Bostwick di
ed on the 4th inst., at Washington. Capt.
Whitney died a few days before at Alexandria.
Their places are filled by the next ranking of
ficers. June 14.— The twelfth regiment is now
strung along the railroad running south, and
guarding it. The boys of late have been feast
ing on straAvberries and cherries, which they
are allowed to stroll off and pick. It is Sun
day, and unusually still aud quiet. A little be-

OB, CAMP LIFE. 161
fore noon an ambulance driver comes into camp.
He is from the sixth army corps. What means
this ? The soldiers flock around him, " Where
is Lee ?" « Where is Hooker ?" " Has he
been beaten, or out-generalled ?" He tells his
story the best he knows. " Lee is off towards
Warrenton, — he went around us ; and Hooker
is out that way, (pointing west). The sixth
army corps is falling back to Alexandria,"
This is all ; and this is enough to break the si
lence in the almost noiseless camp. The sol
diers turn away, talking among themselves.
" Another Bull Run battle, I reckon," " All
right, we are good for 'em." Our regiment
goes down and prepares the road a little ; and
soon the baggage wagons and artillery are cros
sing the river on pontoon bridges. The most
of the soldiers turn off and cross at Wolf Run
Shoals. June 15, — I happened to be one of the
guard. The first thing that I heard this morn
ing was from the ambulance driver that we
spake of. Some one had stolen his saddle
from under his head, when asleep last night,
and he awoke me to help him find it ; but to
no use. Early the A tents are sent to the Sta-
14

162 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
tion, and the small ones spread over the old
sites to keep the sun off. All day artillery,
teams, and now and then a regiment, have
been going to the rear. " The rebels," they
say, " are headed for Maryland, and you'll be
fighting there to defend Washington, or at
Bull Run, within a week." Gen. Hooker and
staff passed about three o'clock.
June 16. — We move our camp about a hun
dred rods, thinking it to be healthier. All
carry their bunks to the new place. We have
seen several officers from the army of the Po
tomac : " The rebels are headed for Maryland,
and Hooker is after them. Shall have a third
Bull Run battle." " They won't make much
out of this strike." So all think.
Evening. — Here, squads of ten or fifteen are
gathered around some old soldier telling his
tales of blood, or where he thinks the enemy
are ; there are many sitting on the ground,
talking, laughing, singing, and some are smok
ing. June 17.— A hundred and fifty from our
regiment have been to see their sons, brothers
and more distant relatives in the First Brigade,
Avhich is now encamped iiear the Station.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 163
Some, as soon as it was known where they
were, started at midnight, and found them in a
forest, asleep, and lying on the ground here
and there " like sheep," as one expressed it.
Brothers awoke brothers, and friends friends
who left home near two years ago, and fought
in every battle in which the army of the Poto
mac had been engaged ; and though too dark
to discern face or form, perhaps changed by
toil or exposure or battle, but the voice is re
membered, and they clasp each other with the
affection of children.
June 18. — On picket opposite the village.
Quite a number have left the place, as they
think rebel cavalry may dash in any hour ;
but we saw no signs of them. Two officers
from Gen. Hooker's staff visit the line and re
port it " all right," I never saw the boys in
better spirits. This post has been increased
to twenty. There are two good story-tellers,
and three or four that sing, who take turn in
amusing the crowd, and no little fun and
amusement is produced. During the next two
days events are being shaped behind the cur
tain, — we spectators seeing and hearing just
enough to set curiosity and anxiety chafing.

164 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
The pickets as they leave camp are reminded
of their responsibility ; that we are in the front
line, guarding not only our own camps, but
those of the army of the Potomac, which is
mostly in the rear of us.
June 21. — Sunday. We have heard firing
the most of the day. Our teamsters at the
Station saw the wounded brought in, and rebel
prisoners going to Washington. They came
from the west of us. There was a sharp cav
alry fight near Snicker's Gap, leading into the
Shenandoah Valley. Camp Carusi, June 22, 1863.
My Dear Sister, — Everybody moves but us.
This picket line is still kept up. The boys
were going to move long before, and fight the
enemy ; but not a rebel has been seen yet.
The oft repeated question is, " Where is Lee ?"
Some say he is in the Shenandoah valley ; oth
ers think that he is just south of the Bull Run
battle-field. Gen. Hooker's army corps are
within supporting distance of each other in the
vicinity of Centreville and Fairfax Court House.
It is reported that a few of the enemy have
reached Pennsylvania, and that Harrisburg is
in danger. We do not know what to think of

OR, CAMP LIFE. 165
these things, or how this great move will final
ly turn out. The soldiers are in good health
and spirits. None expect a large force this
way ; but in case of a great battle near where
the armies have met twice before, this brigade
will doubtless take part in the bloody drama.
The excitement is just enough for some, ope
rating like wine on them.
Your affectionate brother,
June 23. — We have our usual drill in the
afternoon. At the close, arms are stacked ;
we go to our tents and eat a fcAV hard tacks
and drink a little coffee ; read our letters just
from home, and the drum beats for dress pa
rade. Regimental orders are read, and Gen,
Pleasanton's report of his victory over Stuart
last Sunday. Then the Colonel steps forward
and informs us that he had just received orders
for his regiment to be ready to march at a
moment's notice, with ten days' rations. I
hear the soldiers whisper, " This looks a little
like fighting." None can imagine the direc
tion of our course. Such is Tuesday evening,
with many rumors about the invasion of the
North. At dark, teams are started for rations
and return at daybreak. The troops around

166 THE SECOND BRIGADE.
the Station have the same orders as we, Lee
is thought to be in Maryland and intending an
attack on Washington or Baltimore. If we
raove, this whole line, the Station, Centreville,
Fairfax Court House, and all South of Alexan
dria, are to be abandoned, and we go North.
The following short letter will show what the
soldiers thought at night :
My Dear Sister : — These changing whirls
have not yet caught us. Last night we receiv
ed orders to be ready to march ; but we have
seen no signs of it during the day, and we may
 but I must change the tone of my letter
at once, for an orderly has just come from
headquarters to tell us that the whole brigade
is to march in the morning. This monotonous
drama is ended, and the next will close with
the battle-field. May God shield the soldiers,
and give them victory.
Your affectionate brother.

CHAPTER XIV
June 25. — As early as the 13th, General
Milroy Avas attacked at Winchester, by the ad
vance of Lee's array under Ewell, aud retreat
ed to Harper's Ferry. A force of rebel cav
alry crosed the Upper Potomac on the 15th,
causing no little consternation among the peo
ple of Maryland and Pennsylvania. The Pres
ident sees the great danger, and calls for one
hundred thousand more men from these two
states, Ohio and Western Virginia, on the same
day, to serve six months. On the 16th, a de
tachment of the enemy makes an attack on
Harper's Ferry, but is repulsed by Gen. Tyler.
During the night, ten thousand infantry are
sent across the river at Williamsburg. As ear
ly as the 19th, the whole force under Ewell was
on the north side of the Potomac ; and by this
time it is thought that a large part of Lee's army
must be. Our brigade is transferred from the de
fences of Washington, and ordered to report to
[107]

168 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
Gen. Reynolds, commanding the first army
corps, which is moving north, to oppose the in
vading foe. We leave camp a little before
eight o'clock, with a slow step, we in the ranks
not knowing where we were bound, whether
west, or north to Alexandria. The regiment
rested four times before arriving at Union
Mills at one o'clock ; and there is far less fal
ling out from the ranks than ever before. The
day, though hot, is not excessively so ; but at ev
ery pure stream of water we pass, many run to
fill their canteens. At the last named place the
five regiments of the brigade corae together ;
and there is the most friendly feeling among
all. Here we halt an hour and eat dinner. Be
fore starting, it begins to rain, and continues at
intervals the rest of the day. When it is
growing dark we spread our little tents, which
we have brought on our backs,. using guns for
stakes, a mile west of Centreville. Wet as
every thing is, fires are started, and all have
hot coffee and hard tack for supper. In a short
time you hear but little noise in the camp ; the
soldiers are asleep, wrapped in their blankets.
Some have thrown theirs away, but crawl in by
the side of others.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 169
June 26. — Early every-body is preparing for
the march. A part fill the canteens ; a part
kindle fires ; and straightway coffee is boiled,
and breakfast eaten. Now the tents are taken
down, and with them the blankets rolled. Near
by us we find bivouacked the old brigade, and
the rest of the sixth corps, who came from
Bristoe Station, and marched till two o'cock
in the morning. Centreville is abandoned,
and all the government property that cannot
be carried is burned. The soldiers think that
their winding course yesterday from the mouth of
the Occoquan would measure twenty-five miles ;
and a few now are got into the ambulances be
fore starting. After the artillery, teams, and
all the troops have passed us, we fall in, and
bring up the rear.
Friday Noon. — The whole brigade is resting
in a wide, grassy plain. On the right and left
are cherry trees, filled with boys picking the
delicious fruit ; here, are squads around little
fires, (they don't burn well, for small, thick
drops of rain are falling,) cooking coffee ; there,
are long lines of soldiers, with rubbers tied
close around the neck, sitting on knapsacks,
«ating their dry food ; and now and then you

170 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
meet one asleep, all covered with his blanket.
Soon the drum beats, and we are marching
again. The sun is hid from us by clouds ; and
it is quite amusing to hear the boys conjecture
the direction of the course ; indeed they put
it to nearly all the points of the compass. As
we start off in the morning, there is much fun,
and jokes fly as lively as in camp ; but this
grows less and less, till dark, when you hear
but a little, and this seems somewhat forced.
At night we pitch our tents in a mowing near a
station on tho Alexandria and Loudon railroad.
Pickets at once are sent forward to guard all
approaches to the camp.
June 27. — At daybreak the bugle is blown.
The rolls are called ; breakfast ate ; tents and
blankets are rolled ; and by five we are tramp-
iflg. Up to nine o'clock the brigade rested
three times. It seems at such halts to be the
invariable custom to sit on the knapsack, or
lop over on the ground, and nibble away at
hard tack ; but some spread their rubbers, and
lie flat on their backs ; and those accustomed
to smoke do not now forget their old habit.
At one time we made a long stop, for hundreds
of teams belonging to the army of the Potomac

OR, CAMP LIFE. 171
to pass. At two we came in sight of Edward's
Ferry. All around it is a beautiful, rolling
country, covered with wheat and corn. Here
we find many soldiers ; and here we halt an
hour, — during which time many wash their
feet, some of them blistered and almost bleed
ing. We encamp for the night a few miles
north of the river, expecting to start early in
the morning for Harper's Ferry, or Hagers
town. June 28. — Sunday. We remained till all
the troops around the ferry passed. A little
before seven it is known that a chaplain is go
ing to Poolsville and will carry letters. Noav
see the scribbling. Each soldier sits on his
knapsack, and with a lead pencil writes a few
words to his nearest friend. This perhaps is a
specimen :
" My Dear Father : — I have just time to
tell you that I am well, and feeling well. We
have been marching three days, and arc now
somewhere in Maryland, near Poolsville, ex
pecting to start in a few minutes. There are
thousands of rumors, and if any of them are
true, we shall have a brush with the rebels be
fore night. Don't worry about me ; for I shall

172 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
come out all right, and do my duty the best I
can. Your affectionate son."
At eight we are marching, — the hottest day
we have seen. Frequently you will see soldiers
falling out tS throw away their blankets, or all
their clothing, except what they are wearing,
and then run to take their place in the ranks ;
and at each rest, the ground is strewn with
blankets, blouses and shirts. At noon we have
reached the mouth' of the Monocacy river.
Here we halt just long enough to boil coffee
and " cloy the hungry edge of appetite" with
hard tack. Then we push on, rest, — on, rest
again, — on, — on, no rest, — on, up a rising
land. "I'd like," said the soldier by my side,
" I'd like to be General just one half day, and
load some of these officers with my "knapsack,
gun, and equipments strapped to their backs."
Eis face is fiery red, and sweat running down
it like rain on window panes ; but still we push
on ; the front regiment has gained the height.
" Halt," cries the General ; and " halt" comes
down the long line, repeated by the other loffi-
cers. Down go the guns, — doAvn goes every
thing that weighs down, and then the panting

OR, CAMP LIFE. 173
soldiers. Five minutes more, and the bugle is
sounded for us to march. " The General has
changed horses, we've tired out one," I hear a
good natured soldier saying, as he is bending
over to pick up his rifle, A mile and a half
more brings us to the foot of a small mountain
a little north of Adams's Station, ou the Balti
more and Ohio railroad ; and here we bivouac
for the night. " To-morrow we are going to
Antietam." June 29. — Beeves were shot and dressed last
night, so Ave have fresh meat with hard tack for
breakfast this morning. Some of the soldiers'
feet are in a bad condition. I saw one round
blister an inch in diameter on the bottom of the
heel. " Can't go far to-morrow," said many a
boy, as we closed our march yesterday. But
they washed them in cold water, and all start
off in far better spirits than last night, although
it rains hard, and we in the ranks actually
knoAv nothing at all where Ave are going. We
suppose the enemy somewhere in Maryland or
Pennsylvania, rushing now here, now there,
committing all manner of depredations. " Lee
is within five miles of Baltimore and marching
on the city." Last night the great battle was

174 THE SECOND BRIGADE ;
to come off at Antietam ; and there we were
going ; but to-day noon, after plodding through
mud and rain as fast as we can, we find our
selves at Frederick City. Here the brigade
leaves ninety soldiers, unable to go farther.
Some buy pies and pay fifty cents apiece, and
a dollar for smallish loaves of bread. From
this place we march northerly, and pitch our
tents just at dark in a rich valley covered with
grass, waving wheat and corn. We closed our
eyes, thinking that the Avorst had befallen our
arms, and that Harrisburg was being sacked
by the rebels. We have heard that Gen.
Meade is in command of the army, not knowing
whether to believe it.
June 30. — We commence marching at six ;
and halt at Lewistown in about two hours.
The soldiers here buy cakes for a fair price.
" Hard tack has played out, whilst green backs
last," is a common remark ; but on a long
march it is not possible to carry soft bread.
We also halt awhile at Meehanicstown. Here
we find that a brigade of cavalry passed us in
the night. These, too, wear out as well as in
fantry. I saw six sleeping in a field, whilst it
was raining, and no rubbers over them. Our

OR, CAMP LIFE. 175
regiment is in the rear, and arrives at Emmetts-
burg just at dark ; but still we must pitch our
tents and have our coffee. The march this af
ternoon has been exceedingly hard. Two sol
diers are left in houses on the way. At one
time, near evening, as we had been exerting
every chord for near two hours, splashing,
splashing through the mud, faster, faster eve
ry moment, " it seems," said an old soldier,
whose lips had never uttered a complaint be
fore, " it seems as though the General meant
to kill the whole of us." Soon one drops
down in his tracks, and is thought to be dying ;
but stimulants are given him, and he survives,
but unable to go farther. As we near the place
of encampment, though not a man can hardly
drag one blistered, bleeding foot after the oth
er, I hear a few jolly fellows, as much as to say :
" See here, boys, we are all right, if we have
marched six days," singing : " I'm bound to be
a soldier in the army of the Lord," " John
Brown's knapsack," &c. ; but rarely one re
sponds, even with a smile. " I'd rather fight
than stir another step," has fallen from many a
lip to-day.

176 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
July 1. — Wednesday, Early we are in
formed that we shall not march to-day. So
many lie down and sleep, and many seize the
time to write home. But unexpectedly about
nine o'clock orders came for us to fall in. We
move on rapidly through the mud and rain, (it
clears off in the afternoon,) when, suddenly, at
four, the smoke, like a A'ast, dark, snow-drifting
cloud, rolls up before us from the field of Get-
tysburgh, five or six miles away. Here we
halt a number of minutes, and the guns are
closely examined, and made sure of fire by
snapping caps. From this place onward the
brigade moves slower, — little talking, no strag
gling, each man with a sober, determined look,
till a little after dark, regiment behind regi
ment, we stack our arms in a sloping wheat
field, a few rods in the rear of the cannon now
crowning Cemetery Hill, and occasionally be
ing discharged, but not replied to. As we are
approaching the field we meet women and
children going back into the country, now and
then looking around with terror on every face ;
but one middle-aged woman stands nearly still,
bareheaded, whilst the brigade is passing her,
screaming till she can hardly speak, " Go-a-

OR, CAMP LIFE. 177
head, boys ; the rebels are off' there," and
swinging her large naked arms in all direc
tions, causing general and hearty laughter
among all the soldiers that see her. There is
no infantry firing after we arrive on the first
of July, and it is fortunate, as all are too much
exhausted to endure a^reat deal more before
rest. As soon as the arms are stacked, three
men frora each company are sent to fill the
canteens. But no fires are kindled, and so we
eat hard tack and drink cold water for supper.
The Colonel comes around and says, " Every
man must keep his equipments on to-night."
Soon the rubber blankets are spread on the
ground and we lie down, side by side, behind
our guns, with the starry heavens over us,
ready for any emergency ; and though expect
ing to be roused at break of day by roaring
cannon, soon, too, all are asleep.

CHAPTER XV.
July 2.— If the geographer should attempt
to describe each square inch of the earth's sur
face, he would give up in despair before he
had finished writing of a single country ; so
ho wisely paints the prominent features, and
leaves it for the imagination to do the rest. If
I even approximate to this, and present some of
the prominent features of the great battle that
was fought at Gettysburg, on the 1st, the 2d
and 3d of July, 1863, I shall deem myself
most fortunate ; but then there are the thou
sand displays of the bravery of nameless com
mon soldiers as great as ever appeared in histo
ry ; the thousands of bright hopes extinguished ;
the thousands of noble intellects destroyed ; the
painful wounds, the dying groans hushed by
the deafening clangor of arms, and the sicken
ing, frightful carnage,— these, these must lie
concealed till the Judgment Day, If the ene
my had succeeded in this battle, the whole
richly cultivated country to Baltimore, Phila
delphia, Harrisburg, and probably the entire
[179]

180 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
State of Pennsylvania — cutting in two the east
and west — would have lain helpless at the feet
of the rebel horde, to be ravaged at their will.
But now the long cherished aspirations of our
enemies, to invade and feed their armies in the
districts of the North, are crushed forever, and
the fires of war rolled back into the bosoms of
those states which kindled them, — not burning,
like the sAvift running fires that sweep over the
western prairies, causing the grass to grow
greener the coming spring, but rather raging
with volcanic fury, it may be, in the Providence
of God, to destroy, root and branch, the A-ery
institutions for which they were started.
Gen. Meade is put in comraand of the array
of the Potomac the 28th of June. His head-
(juarters at that time were at Frederick ; Lee's
north- Avest, across the mountain, at Hagers
town. It will be remembered that our brig
ade arrived at Frederick the next day at
noon ; but we were considerably farther south
than any of the other troops, except the sixth
corps, at the time the intentions of the rebel
leaders were clearly known. On the 27th ult.,
it is estimated that forty thousand rebel sol
diers, and a hundred pieces of artillery, passed

OR. CAMP LIFE. 181
through Chambersburgh, which is a little fur
ther north than Gettysburg : and there is a
feasible ro'ad over the mountain between the
two places. Hence the enemy, in case he
should go in force to Harrisbnrgh, was in
danger of being cut off, and also in need of
Gettysburg, to proceed farther east. Not a
moment is lost. They are ravaging the coun
try, — seizing horses, cattle and all the provis
ions they can get. On the last day of June,
the first, third and eleventh corps encamped
at Emmettsburgh, and also near by were the
second and tAvelfth. The next morning early.
Gen. Reynolds, with the first corps, except our
brigade, and Gen. Howard, with the eleventh,
start for Gettysburgh, where they arrive a lit
tle after ten in the forenoon. The first march
ed directly through the toAvn, and the enemy
is soon discovered to the westward in a piece
of wood, near the Theological Seminary. A
.portion of our artillery is got into position a
half mile south of them. The great battle be
gins by the rebels firing first, and so sharply
as to cause the batteries to commence retiring
soon after ; but one division of infantry goes
at once to their aid, — two regiments charging

182 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
on the enemy and forcing him back. The ar
tillery is now placed further in the rear on
higher ground, and this position is held the
rest of the day. At this juncture, General
Reynolds, with some of his staff, rides
forward to learn the best place for disposing
of his troops. The rebels fire upon them.
The braA'c Reynolds falls, crying out, " For
ward, for God's sake, forward !" and drops
into the arms of his aid, breathing, " Good
God, Wilcox, I am killed." The command of
the corps now devolves upon Gen. Doubleday,
who hurries up and places it to meet the charge
which it is evident the foe are about to make.
They advance and open fire along the whole
line ; but the western brigade charges upon
them so rapidly as to capture six hundred pris
oners. A heavy body now advances against
us from the woods ; they are met with volleys
of lead, but are not checked till a second
charge is made even more successfully than the
first ; but not without terrible losses to this
brave corps that is battling against such odds.
The eleventh corps now comes in sight ; and
Gen. Howard assumes command of the forces.
Two charges are now made by the troops under

OR, CAMP LIFE. 183
Ewell, but resisted ; then the combined corps
of Ewell and Hill, — more than sixty thousand,
and outnumbering us three to one — are hurled
against the tired soldiers, who have been fight
ing for many hours with desperation, looking,
longing for reinforcements to arrive ; but none
come to their aid, and they are driven back
inch by inch, and finally retire through the
town to Cemetery Hill. It is so late in the af
ternoon the enemy make no other demonstra
tions. Here both corps are formed in line of
battle ; here the artillery is massed ; and soon
Gens. Sickles and Slocum arrive with their
corps, and our own brigade. 0, who can tell
¦ the feelings of those scarred heroes, weary,
sweating, black with burned powder, as they
saw us approaching ?
Gen. Meade arriA'es before eleven o'clock ;
examines the position ; and makes the follow
ing disposition of the corps : — the twelfth, com
manded by Slocum, on the right ; the eleventh,
commanded by Howard, next ; the second,
commanded by Hancock, the first, by Double-
day, the third, by Sickles, in the centre ; and
the fifth, commanded by Sykes, on the left.
The cavalry are posted on the flanks ; and can-

184 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
non planted to sweep every road. The line is
semi-circular, and Cemetery Hill nearly in the
centre of the bristling arc.
Our brigade, as I have intimated before,
stacks its arms a few rods in the rear of the
line of battle formed by the first corps ; and
expecting to be roused this morning at break
of day by the enemy's guns. But no, — we lie
till broad daylight, and then roll our dcAvy
blankets and make coffee and eat our breakfast
as quietly as in camp. The sun looks calmly
down upon the peaceful scene, — herds grazing
in the green pastures, fields of growing wheat
and corn, orchards of peach and apple trees,
bending under their increasing fruit, rural dwel
lings, and birds singing as sweetly as ever, un
conscious of the awful storm that is breeding
in the mysterious silence. But none will ask :
" Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest ?"
for on the suramit of Cemetery Hill, fifty can
non with their deep, black mouths, are pointing
to the hills beyond the town, silently muttering
defiance, and, " Don't you come this way if
you want to go back ;" and all along, from
right to left, are many other batteries crown
ing the highest points ; and there, too,'on eith-

OR, CAMP .LIFE. I.s:.
er side, are the thick, gracefully curved walls
of gleaming bayonets.
Nine o'clock. — The hundred pickets, Avho
were sent out two hours before, from our regi
ment, have just come back. They have shot
eight or ten rounds, and are laughing over their
little exploits. The boys quickly ask them,
" Did you get hit ?" " Not a man." A rebel
sharp-shooter climbs an oak, which has a large,
bushy top, off seventy-five rods, and fires five
timcb at Major Boynton, who is most coolly
watching the movements ; but soon after, the
rebel tumbles out of the tree, hit by a ball from
our side. About ten o'clock there is some fir
ing among the pickets on the right and left.
Our brigade is still in the Avheat field, — the
most lying doAvn, and many sleeping. At elev
en we are ordered up, — march a hundred rods,
stack arms in a clover field, directly in the rear
of the highest point of Cemetery Hill, and as
before, the most lie down, many go to sleep,
and a few stroll off a Httle way to get water,
and see what they can. We are not in line of
battle. Directly a brisk firing breaks out a
few rods to our left, amongst the skirmishersj
who approach so near each other that a number
16

186 THE SECOND BRIGADE ;
of rebel prisoners are taken. The forenoon
wears away, the enemy here and there feeling
our strength ; and then nearly four hours of al
most unbroken silence ; but such silence ! —
such as is wont to hang over the sea, foretel
ling furious storms — before the iron globes be
gin to be hurled on their merciless errands.
Now suddenly a heavy fire is opened on Ceme
tery Hill. The ambulances, which had been col
lected near, and some teams, rush back in great
haste. Before it is continued a quarter of an
hour, a few soldiers belonging to the eleventh
corps actually run away ; and half of our regi
ment (the other half is supporting a battery
further at the right,) is ordered up nearer the
brow of the hill to take their places. They
move steadily the short distance, and lie down
under the flying shells. For two hours now a
most terrific cannonade is kept up at this point,
and along to the left ; for two hours the de
structive missiles come, whizzing, whizzing,
bursting, bursting, sending doAvn their death-
bearing pieces amongst us, and crushing through
the little strip of woods to our right, — but not
a soldier flinches. In the midst of the furious
storm. Gen. Doubleday rides along, and says in

OR, CAMP LIFE. 187
a pathetic voice : " Boys, you will fight — won't
you ? The honor of your State is in your
hands. This battle is to decide whether Lin
coln or Davis is President,"
Think not that our own artillery is inac
tive, — ^but rather sending back like destruction.
Gen, Meade's headquarters are on the hill ;
he is calmly watching every move of the enemy.
Soon comes a pause — a few moments of silence,
all save the groans of the dying and the cries
of the wounded — more painful than the un
earthly clangor that preceded — and in a mo
ment, long, dark lines of infantry — three col
umns — forty-five thousand under Hill and Long-
street, are seen moving down on our left —
steadily, and seemingly irresistible as a planet
in its course. The blow is most directed
against the fifth corps on the extreme left ; but
Gen, Sickles and his brave command arc not
daunted at the mighty host now forming in
their front. On they come, and instantly all
the air is filled with the ten thousand rifle
cracks, and the louder roar of artillery. " My
God," says a soldier to me, " my God, if we've
not got a cool brain and a big one too, to man
age this affair, the nation is ruined forever."

188 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
Nearer, nearer draw the infuriated lines, and
louder and louder still the infernal din of arms.
" See ! see ! they are driving us." So it is.
The third corps is being forced back, inch by
inch, by more than twice their number, falling,
dying, fighting with desperation — their Gener
al badly wounded in the leg, — the enemy push
ing on more furiously than ever, and hurling
their slaughtering volleys into our decimated
ranks. The second corps goes to their aid. The
contest is a little more even, but by no means
equal. The rebels for awhile waver, and then
spring on with increased numbers. The car
nage here is terrible ; but our troops stand the
shock as though every man cared nothing for
his life, but only to beat back the mad, raging
host in his front. Gens. Hancock and Gibbon
are both wounded. As our thinned lines be
gin to tremble considerably and show signs of
giving away, the fifth corps is thrown in and
more than fills up the breach, A heavy batte
ry is wheeled on to an eminence away to the
left, and sends down its destructive contents
into the ranks of the enemy, shaking the hills
at every discharge. For a moment, at last, the
foe seemed stunned and about to stagger ofl' be-

OR. CAMP LIFE. isy
fore the aAvful tempest. But no, — through the
dusky air and under the serried peaks of smoke
just lifted up from the lines, behind can be seen
the officers dashing along, urging on the men ;
and that they too are being reinforced. In a
few minutes their whole colurans rush on with
greater force and more fury than before. The
sixth corps has just arriA'ed on the field of
battle, and almost at the same instant a divis
ion from the right wing has been sent to the
support of the left. All noAv deal such blows
upon the enemy that bis shattered ranks reel
back, falling by hundreds at every discharge,
amid loud cheers and exultant shouts of victo
ry from our side. But it Avas a most critical
time. Our line of battle had been broken, and
the rebels dragged oft' a battery near the cen
tre. Instantly the five companies of our regi
ment are deployed in the midst of the unabat
ed storm of bursting shells, and thrown into the
breach. We no sooner reached the spot than
the Colonel's horse was shot under him and the
Colonel fell. He springs up, no hat on, pis-
tolin hand, in front, and cries: " On, boys, on."
They now charge doAvn the sloping hill, over
the dead and dying, shouting, firing into the

190 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
foe. After the sixth corps, the division from
the right wing, and some from the first corps,
were massed against them, it seemed but a mo
ment, till the rebel lines were breaking all along
and flying back in dismay. The victory is com
plete. Half our regiment alone recaptures four
cannon, and takes two from the enemy and
eighty prisoners. It became quite dark before
the fighting was over at this point.
After this we go back to the brow of the hill,
and much joy is expressed on account of the
victory. All our wounded are taken to the
field hospitals in the rear, and cared for the
best they could be. A little hard tack is eaten
and muddy water drank, and about ten o'clock
our brigade lies down to sleep in the open field,
in the front line of battle, a few rods to the
left of Cemetery Hill, little dreaming that the
sun would go down on a far bloodier field the
next day than the last. But the enemy are not
satisfied with their operations on the left, and
soon after a division had been sent away from
Gen. Slocum's corps, Ewell makes an attack
on the right wing. And for a quarter of an
hour the fight rages here, the old soldiers say,
as they never saw it before. Parts of the sixth

OB, CAMP LIFE. 191
and first corps hasten to their support. The
shades of night do not cool their passions, so
inflamed by defeat on the left, and until half
past nine, with changing fortune, the battle
goes on ; and to us from Cemetery Hill, in
painful suspense, watching the sheets of fire
streaming out from the lines through the dark
but a few rods apart, each seems to send back
death for death. Now our columns sway back
a little, and there they stand firm as the hills
in their rear, resisting every assault till ten
o'clock, when the foe is completely repulsed.
The din of arms soon ceases all over the field,
and the weary soldiers quickly yield them
selves up to sleep.
July 3. — Who can present a fight just as it
was, waged by a hundred and seventy thousand
soldiers, each determined to conquer, for six
teen hours scarcely interrupted, and often re
minding one of -Milton's words :

" From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar
Embowel'd with outrageous noise the air.
And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul
Their devilish glut, chain'd thunderbolts and hail
Of iron globes ; which on the victor host
Level'd with such impetuous fury smote
That, whom they hit, none on their feet might stand.
Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell
By thousands."

192 THE SECOND II RIG ADE;
But it is a part of our history,— and let it
stand a record of terror to all whom hereafter
a Avicked ambition may prompt to raise their
hands against our government or violate our
laws. The battle coraraenced on the right at day
break by Gen. Slocum's troops advancing a
little and delivering a heavy fire into the ene
my. The soldiers under Ewell answer it with
a like firing and yells, and a charge even more
desperate than that of the night before. The
fight bids fair to be raging along the whole
line from flank to flank. We in the centre al
most at the same time are awoke by the crack
ing of the skirraishers' rifles a little Avay to the
left, and before we have time to pick up our
blankets, and lie down between the batteries,
in the front line, the hostile bombs are bursting
fast and furious over our heads. For three
hours now the cannonade continues at this
point — we lying on our faces, — and still the
-savage engagement goes on to the right, not at
all abated ; but rather the wondrous fury
that broke at once, seems much increased as
more artillery is brought into play, and the
musketry fire is partially drowned by their

OR, CAMP LIFE. 193
thundering peals. The combatants were soon
enveloped in a paU of smoke, which hides the
scene of carnage. Again and again, and again,
vast columns of rebel infantry are rolled in,
seeming, as it were, to the black crater of a
volcano, only to be swept down in death, or
swept back in disorder. The morning hours
have worn away, and the sun is slowly gaining
the meridian ; but still on they come as if spur
red by some supernatural being behind that
they dreaded more than the sure death in front,
till at last, as when two equal globes meet,
moA'ing with equal velocities in different di
rections, their shock destroys each other's mo
mentum ; so for awhile it seems here, or at
least one is in cruel doubt which way the scales
of victory will turn, knowing that such slaugh
ter cannot continue long. But as the battle
is growing thus fearful, reinforcements arrive,
and are posted to send an enfilading fire,
which quickly causes disorder in the ranks of
the enemy, and soon rout, too, follows.
It is nearly noon ; firing soon ceases all over
the field, and the sun, which has been obscured
much of the day by clouds, now shows his
splendor, as if to smile on this signal triumph

194 THE SECOND BRIGADE ;
of the friends of liberty over slavery. It would
seem that three such repulses and defeats would
be sufficient to convince the foe of the futility
of attempting to break through our lines. But
no, before two o'clock, a hundred cannon, in a
circular line, are concentrated and sending
their horrid bombs on Cemetery Hill, thick as
hail, and swift and crashing as thunderbolts.
We have three heavy lines of battle in the cen
tre, a few rods apart, gracefully curved as a
rainboAV, one behind the other. Our brigade
has not moved during the day, and is in the
front line, in the open field, on the left side of
the hill. Here they remain for about two
hours, lying on their faces, and
" Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of tliem,
Cannon in front of them,
Volley'd and thunder'd."
But the Light Brigade Avere not in quite so
stormy a place as the men in the centre of
Gettysburg ; for our owu cannon, a few feet
in the rear, were Aomiting smoke and burnt
powder upon their backs, who lie ready to
spring on the foe if he advances near. For
two liours, I say, they lie there, — the shells
tearing up the earth, filling the air with the

OR, CAMP LIFE. 195
splinters of trees and fences, killing and
wounding many ; but no stragglers go to the
rear. Now they rush down the slope forty or
fifty rods to the lowest spot between the con
tending batteries, and about midway. Here
in a strip of low brush they construct a small
breastwork out of an old rail fence the best
they can. But the enemy saw us move and
turned some of their guns upon us here and
wounded a few ; but most fortunate for us, the
most part of their shells and grape-shot came
crashing down a few feet in (he rear. Soon
the enemy are seen moving over the hill and
forming directly in our front. They have
marched but a short distance before the order
comes, " Fire, Fire !" A sharp firing is con
tinued till the rebel line wavers and diverges
to our right, staggering and falling rapidly
from flank to flank. No cooler, braver man,
can be seen on the whole field than Gen. Stan
nard, who is down among his boys, to fight
with them and share their fate. The front line
of battle to our right did not advance when we
did ; so the thirteenth and sixteenth regiments
are marched into the open meadow by the flank

196 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
and as quickly as possible ; for they are mov
ing in a terrific storm of shell, grape and mus
ketry. Here they change front forward, form
ing the new line of battle at right angle to the
old, bringing them on the flank of the advanc
ing foe, and but a few feet from them. A de
structive fire is now poured into them, and be
fore they have faced many volleys, the rebel
column is broken to pieces, and the " gray-
backs" are throwing down their arms, running
into our lines, some crying " Don't fire, don't
fire !" But this is hardly accomplished before
another force came charging on our left. Col.
Veazey with the sixteenth is ordered back to
take it upon the flank, which has been bravely
met and thinned by the rapid firing of the four
teenth, under Col. Nichols, This charge is as
successful as the first. Both times nearly every
one of the enemy are swept into our lines ;
indeed I saw not one get back over the hill, so
complete is the victory at this point. A short
distance to the right the rebels came in three
columns directly for our cannon in the front.
Here the carnage was most frightful. Imagine
three lines of men charging on seventy cannon

OR, CAMP LIFE. 197
as near each other as they can be managed,
and then, if they are reached, thousands of sol
diers ready to spring up and defend them :
' • As if the yaAvning hill to heaven
A subterranean host had given."
For a moment Cemetery Hill seeins but one burst
ing A'olcano, sending deadly missiles upon
such frail creatures as men. The repulse is
sudden and overwhelming. The next morning
I visited this spot early, and their mangled
dead in long lines showed how they came in
triple columns. When the fighting is over at
this point, our brigade takes the same position
it had before the enemy appeared in their front,
every now and then to receive the contents of
some rebel battery in the shape of grape shot
and shell. But the battle is not ended yet.
Like some wild beast, mad and weakened by
many wounds, and too frenzied to care for the
result, they spring upon our left. First there
is a heavy cannonade on both sides, and then
the infantry columns sweep down the hills, and
for twenty minutes the smoke and sound of
musketry rise from the forest in the same pla
ces. Now the shouts from our own soldiers
tell us that they are driving them. All who

198 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
saw the last scene, I dare say, will never forget
it. Cheers, smoke, the roar of arms making
the earth itself tremble, are rolling up from the
Avood-covered valley ; back of this, in the wes
tern sky, a dark cloud is rising, streaked with
chains of lightning, — but the peals of thunder
can scarce be heard, so great still is the din
of battle ; darkness is slowly settling down
and covering the field of carnage ; and away
on the right, all the ridges and Cemetery Hill
are covered with brave men — the weary, worn
remnants of the three days' engagement — who
have caught the notes of final victory from our
triumphant soldiers on the left, still pursuing
the foe up the hill, and answer back the cheers
with cheers and shouts with shouts, — and many
fairly leaping from the ground in joy and ec
stacy. The great battle continued from the
break of day till after dark, passing from the
right to the centre, and from the centre to the
left, not renewed at either point, as if the foe
were too much exhausted. After the firing had
wholly ceased, the soldiers of our brigade lie
down with their rubber blankets over them, the
most not expecting to be relieved during the
night ; but we are, a little after nine o'clock,

OR, CAMP LIFE. 199
and go to the rear, where we sleep sweetly till
morning, though the greater part had eaten noth
ing during the day, and but little the night be
fore ; and could get nothing but very muddy
water to drink, and not near what they wanted
of this. But still I have not heard a single
man complain during the two days, nor seen a
murmuring lip. I, with twenty others, was
left behind to see that none of the wounded,
who belonged to our regiment, should remain
on the field. The most of them had been ta
ken back, after the infantry fight ended at this
point, by their friends, though in great danger
of being hit by shells.
It was a be3,utiful night ; the clouds had all
passed off ; and the moon had risen, large and
silvery bright, to shine on the bloody field, be
fore we left. But 0 the cries we heard, and
the sights we saw — I cannot bear to tell of
these. After our own wounded had been start
ed for the hospitals, — some on blankets, some
in ambulances, — ^it was not yet safe to approach
the enemies' lines, so their wounded lie on the
field all night. I wandered back among the
dead, as they fell prostrate in the fight, — the

200 THE SECOND BRIGADE.
moonlight making their features more ghastly ^
with the words of Moore often recurring :
" And, though his life hath pass'd away
Like lightning on a stormy day.
Vet shall his death-hour leave a track
Of glory, permanent and bright,
To which the brave of after times.
The suff'ring brave, (shall long look back
With proud regret, — and by its light
Watch through the hours of slavery's night.
For vengeance on the oppressor's crimes."

Y

CHAPTER XVI.
July 4. — Early it is reported that the ene
my are retreating ; but the soldiers don't
know whether to believe it or not, — all hoping
that it is so ; for our brigade has certainly en
dured about all it can until it has more than
one night's rest. Soldiers are sent out in little
squads, — some to bury the dead that have fal
len both days, and others to bring in the wound
ed, our own and the rebel. Now that the ene
my are wounded, our boys seem, just as willing
to give them a drink of cold water, or some
thing to eat, as their own comrades. This
morning the soldiers of our regiment have no
breakfast — some borrow a few hard tacks of
other soldiers — and one soldier will always di
vide with another if he has half a meal him
self ; — but still there is not a word of com
plaint ; for all know that our quartermaster.
Nelson A. Taylor, Esq., will have rations on
the grounds as soon as possible ; and then the
[201]

202 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
men on such occasions seem lifted up beyond
their own natural selves, and to forget in a
measure all bodily wants. An order is issued
by Gen. Doubleday and read to each of the
regiments of the brigade, that took part in the
battle, thanking them " for their gallant con
duct, in resisting, in the front lines, the main
attack of the enemy upon this position."
The adjutant, comes around to learn the
names and number of those killed and wound
ed, that they may be telegraphed home. It is
found that a quarter of my company had been
hit by balls or pieces of shells, and only one
killed — James Wilson, a good soldier and a
fine young man.
At noon some beeves are shot and dressed ;
and teams have arrived with rations. Little
fires are kindled all over the camp, and soon,
I, with twenty others, am crowded around one
of them, roasting meat — some fixing it on pick
ed sticks, others, on ramrods bent and broken
by balls flying through the air but yesterday.
Citizens came to the field and offered to carry
letters to the post office, of which the follow
ing may be a specimen :

OR, CAMP LIFE. :i0.5
Gettysburg, Penn,, July 4, 1868, )
On the Battle-field. \
Mr Dear Father and Mother : — I wrote
you last when at .Emmetsburg, We did not
then expect to march that day ; but we sud
denly found ourselA'es tramping, and as sud
denly in sight of the battle-field. When we ar
rived at this place, each boy's feet were very
badly blistered ; and all of us so tired we could
hardly stand up. But the moment the can
non's smoke rose before us, it sealed every sol
dier's lips against complaining, and all nerved
themselves to do their duty, — seeming to march
easier than before. I cannot describe the bat
tle, only to say, that for more than fourteen
hours, both days, we were under fire, where
shell and balls were flying thick almost every
moment. We, and our friends, ought to thank
God that we were not all killed, for this is re
ally the greatest wonder. I came out of the
fight without a scratch. You will have learn
ed the names of the wounded before this can
reach you. When or where we shall now move
none of us know.
Your affectionate son.

204 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
We have heard but little firing to-day, and
the troops around us have not been moved.
Just after noon it begins to rain, and continues
through the rest of the day and night. Our
camp is nothing but one great mud-hole. The
boys bring rails on to the ground, place them
parallel, cover them with bushes, and sleep on
these with their rubbers over them. We were
still far too tired not to sleep soundly, although
a barn stood near by, filled with the wounded
enemy, whose shattered limbs the surgeons
were amputating. I awoke once and heard
some of them groaning, some swearing, and
others praying fervently to God.
July 5. — By half past five, troops are hur
rying off, we know not where, in pursuit of the
rebels. After breakfast our brigade is moved
a hundred rods further in front, and there re
mains quietly till the next morning. It is now
rainy, now sunshiny, all day. A few from each
company — not to be gone long — are allowed to
stroll over the field, and examine AA'here the
enemy stood. All are struck with the number
of their dead and the almost countless number
of arms they left behind. Many of the dead
are not buried yet ; and in some places, where

OR, CAMP LIFE. 205
horses, caissons, guns, gun-carriages, and man
gled men, are all rolled in one decaying heap,
the loathsome sight and stench are hardly to be
endured. The boys are getting somewhat rested and
in much better spirits than .yesterday, — laugh
ing, telling over their narrow escapes ; how
the balls whistled above their heads, how the
shells would whir and whiz and burst, and
then their white puffs of smoke gently float
away in the air, and their pieces come thunder
ing to the earth, covering them with dirt ; how
and where this one or that one fell fighting
bravely ; how two in our regiment actually
ran away ; how the " rebs" jumped and stag
gered and " tipped over" as we opened fire on
them ; and hoAV the General did rightly in
hurrying us the seven days that we might take
part in the great battle. At night we spread
our shelter tents, and sleep soundly till morn
ing. July 6. — As soon as coffee is made and
breakfast eaten, we begin to march rapidly to
wards Emmetsburg, where we arrive before
noon. We were among the last soldiers to
leave Gettysburg. The most ofthe army was

.206 TEE SECOND BRIGADE;
set in motion yesterday, and Ave learn that
there was considerable skirmishing between
our advance guard and the rear of Lee's army,
on the day after the battle closed. Why Gen.
Meade did not see fit to set us marching imme
diately, whether because he could not discover
the exact position of the enemy, or because he
knew that the army — having marched so long,
so rapidly, and fought so hard,— needed a little
time to rest before it could operate to advan
tage, I know not. But this assertion I will
venture to make, namely : That when those,
who think the army of the Potomac did not
commence the pursuit quick enough, have
fought for their country as long and a? bravely
as they did at Gettysburgh even, the present
soldiers will volunteer to pursue the enemy,
one and all ; and not complain because ninety
thousand veterans have not been annihilated
instead of being reduced one third.
As we halted here none expected to stop
but a few minutes ; bat we continued to re
main, and just before dark pitch our tents —
many haA'e thrown them away, declaring that
they would not carry CA'en these on another
seven day's march — in a piece of woods on one

OR, GAMP LIFE. 207
of the highest hills near the town. Where
Lee is, and the best way of hitting him the
hardest blow, are much talked of, and of
course each soldier must express his opinion to
his fellow comrade. There were a few rumors,
such as these : " Lee has been cut off at Ha
gerstown ?" " He is coming through this
way." We got papers to day and also yester
day, the first Ave have seen since starting from
the mouth of the Occoquan river the 25th of
June. A number of thousand troops encamped
near us, and considerable artillery is planted
on the brow of the hill in our front. But at
ten o'clock at night, when many are asleep,
and the camp fires burned low, orders are
sent around for each company to be up by
three, and ready to start at half past three in
the morning on the march.
July 7. — Before the bright stars have faded
in the heavens, the camp fires are kindled
ancAv, and the boys are bustling around in the
forest preparing for breakfast. Soon all is
ready ; for our weak and wounded had been
left at Gettysburg, from thence to be trans
ported by railroad to Washington, and by
daAlight we are marching. Many are the

208 THE SECOND BRIGADE;
places named by this and that one where Ave are
bound ; but straightway it is evident that we
are going back over the same road by which we
had corae from Frederick. From this time on
ward until we make our coffee for dinner,
there is hardly a moment's pause, and when
there is, the boys spread their rubbers and lie
down panting on their backs. Tramp, tramp,
— a July forenoon is hot and long — tramp,
tramp ; the rumble of artillery wheels, and now
and then squads of cavalry dashing Joy us, are
about all we see or hear ; and shall I not say ,
think of ? Tramping, still tramping, sweating,
chafing, puffing. " Be patient, boys ; we have
yet got to climb a steep, slippery, winding road
over the mountain, six miles, before we pitch
our tents in the Middleton valley," says the
General. A while after noon we turn to the
right, cross the Catochin mountain, and encamp
on the west side near its foot, after it has
grown quite dark. We have never seen so
hard a day's march before. The citizens say
that we have come more than thirty miles.
" A battle must be raging somcAvhere, or why
this rush, this steady stretch of sixteen hours'
marching ? and that too, by men well nigh.

OR, CAMP LIFE. 209
worn down before ?" With such thoughts as
these the soldiers closed their eyes, — the rain
spattering in their faces.
July 8. — Before it is fairly light we are
awake, and commence marching without any
breakfast, only as each nibbles a hard tack on
the way. It rains violently, and the roads are
all mud. So hurried is our course — one after
another in the advance falling out and mixing
up with those further in the rear — that in two
hours you cannot distinguish one regiment from
another. Near noon we halt on the top of a
steep hill covered with clover, not far from
Middleton ViUage, wet, hungry, so tired that
all would most gladly lie down to sleep, expect
ing to continue the march in a short time. Now
the , clouds have departed, and the sun shines
out warmly ; the crystal raindrops twinkle on '
the green grass and leaves ; and all nature
smiles, and looks fresher and lovelier than be
fore the storm had swept over her bosom. But
a still greater change has come over the sol
diers ; for now it is known that Vicksburg has
fallen ; that Lee's defeat is overwhelming ; and
that we shall turn our faces homeward in the
morning. IS

210 THE SECOND BRIGADE;.
After the boys had eaten their dinner — the
most buy warm biscuit or loaA'cs of bread of
the citizens — all go doAvn and wash themselves
in a small stream. The sixth corps is camped
near us, and many frora the old brigade visit
their friends in ours, and congratulate them up
on doing so well at Gettysburg, and upon go
ing home. Soon the troops around us are
marching towards Hagerstown. Although ev
ery man is in ecstacy at the thought of meeting
his friends, yet, with pain and many regrets,
did we see our brother soldiers depart, with
whom we had marched so many miles and
fought by their sides at Gettysburg, and always
treated so kindly by. them. We remain in the
l)eautiful A'alley until morning. It reminded
us of New England more than any other place
Tve had. seen, lying between the Catochin and
South mountains, much broken, but the little
hills are covered with wheat, corn, and sweet
smelling clover, with pure springs of water at
their bases,
July 9. — Not far from seven o'clock, we be
gin to march towards Frederick, where we ar
rive at noon. We meet the old brigade, just
starting for Hagerstown, and give each regi-

OR. CAMP LIFE. -ni
ment three as loud cheers as our tongues would
let us, which they answered with cheers equal
ly loud, and wished us a safe and pleasant jour
ney home. The road, the whole distance, was
crowded with troops — we have never seen eve
ry-body in such fine spirits — and teams to sup
ply them, all following the retreating enemy.
We march down three miles to the Junction,
and there take the cars for Baltimore. Sleep
and darkness soon almost unconsciously steal
upon us ; and by midnight we are in the latter
city. It was a warm, starry night, far differ
ent from the rainy, chilly 12 th of October,
when we arrived here nine months before.
We remain in Baltimore till the night of the
llth. All have considerable pride to meet
their friends looking as well as possible. Ma
ny — some had left their youthful mustaches to
themselves for the nine months — visit the bar
bers' shops ; and many buy new suits of
clothes. We stopped here for the sick and
wounded to arrive from the hospitals in Alex
andria and Washington.
The next morning, Sunday, Philadelphia wel
comes us back from the war not less kindly

212 THE SECOND BRIGADE.
than she received us when we were going, nine
months before, to defend her borders.
The middle of the afternoon finds us at Jer
sey city. Just at dark we go on board a
steamer, but do not start out till the next
morning at seven. For awhile after we had
pushed off from the wharf, the deck is covered
with soldiers to view the principal objects of
interest ; but, one by one, they go back, and in
an hour the most are sleeping on the floors. At
one o'clock we disembark at New Haven ; —
and soon those waving kerchiefs ; those sweet
voices ; those well tilled fields ; those white
cottages, surrounded by flowers and fruit trees,
and near by the garden patches filled with veg
etables ; those green pastures ; school-houses
and churches, — all tell us that we are once
more in New England. We arrive at Brattle
boro' at half past eleven P. M. ; and the sol
diers go to the barracks which they first enter
ed on the last day of September before.

'^M:M<

APPEXDIX.

GENERAL ORDER— No. C8.

He.IDIJUAKTER.S .Vll.MY OF TIIE POTOM.IC,
Xear Gettysburg, July Sth, 8.30 P.M.
Tha Commanding General, in behalf of the country,
thanks the army of the Potomac for the glorious result
of the recent operations. Our enemy, superior in
numbers, and flushed with the pride of a successful in
vasion, attempted to overcome or destroy this army.
Baffled and defeated, he has now withdrawn from tho
contest. The privations and fatigue the army has en
dured, and the heroic courage and gallantry it has dis
played, will be matters of history to be ever remem
bered. Our task is not yet accomplished, and the Command
ing General looks to the army for greater efforts to
drive from our soil every vestige of the presence of the
invader. It is right and proper that we should, on all suitable
occasions, return our greatful thanks to the Almighty
Disposer of events, that, in the goodness of His prov
idence, He has thought to give victory to the cause of
the just. By command of Major General MEADE.
S. WiixiAMS, A. A. G.

[215]

'•joex^

REPORT OF BRIG. GEN. GEO. J. STANNARD,
COMMANDING SECOND VT. BRIGADE.
ITK.l.D<iUARTEKS, OO BlUG.iDB, 3d DiAISIOX, J
1st Army Corps, >
In front of Gettysburg, July 4, 1863. 5
P. T. Washburn, Adjutant and Inspector General :
Sir, — ^I have the honor to report that the Second
Vermont Brigade, under my command, marched from
the line of the defences of Washington upon the Oc
coquan, on the 25tli ult., under orders to report to Ma
jor General Reynolds, commanding the 1st Army Corps.
The Brigade joined that corps at this place, on tho
evening of July 1st, after an exhausting march of sev
en days. The distance marched, averaged about eigh
teen miles per day. Rain fell on every day of the sev
en. The men marched wfll, with no straggling, and
considering the condition of the roads, the distance
travelled, from the mouth of the Occoquan to Gettys
burg, could not have been accomplished in less time.
We reached the battle ground, in front of Gettys
burg, too late in the day to take part in the severely
contested battle of July Ist, and my tired troops upon
their arrival took position in rear of the line of battle
of the 1st Corps.
Before reaching the ground, the Twelfth and Fif
teenth regiments were detached, by order of Gen. Rey
nolds, as a guard to the corps wagon train in the rear.
The 15th rejoined the Brigade no.\t morning, but was
again ordered back for the same duty, about noon of
[210]

APPENDIX. 217
that day. After the opening of the battle of the 2nd
the left wing of the Thirteenth regiment, under Lieut
Col. Munson, was ordered forward as support to a bat
tery, and a company of the Sixteenth was sent out as
support to the skirmishers in our front. While station
ing them, Capf. A. G. Foster, Assistant Inspector Gen
eral of my staff, was seriously wounded by a ball
through both legs, depriving me of his valuable servi
ces for the remainder of the battle. Just before dark
of the same day, our army line on the left of the cen
tre having become broken, under a desperate charge of
the enemy, my brigade was ordered up. The right
wing of the loth regiment, under command of Col.
Randall, was in the advance, .and upon reaching the
breach in the line, was granted by Gen. Hancock, com-
raanding.upon the spot, the privilege of making effort
to retake the gur.s of Company " C," regular battery,
whieh had just been captured by the enemy.
This they performed in a gallant charge, in which
Col. Randall's horse was shot under him. Four guns
of the battery were retaken, and two rebel field-pieces,
with about eighty prisoners, were captured by five com
panies of the 13th, in this single charge. The front
line, thus re-established, was held by this brigade for
twenty-si.x hours. At about two o'clock of the 3d inst.,
the enemy commenced a vigorous attack upon our po
sition. After subjecting us, for an hour and a half, to
the severest cannonade of the whole battle, from near
ly one hundred guns, the enemy charged wilh a heavy
column of infantry. The charge was aimed directly up
on my command, but owing apparently to the firm front
shown them, the enemy diverged midway, and came
upon the line on my r'ght. But thoy did not thus es
cape the warm reception prepared for thom by tho Ver
monters. As soon as the change of attack became evi
dent, I ordered a flank attack upon the enemy's column .
19

21K APPENDIX.
Forming in the open meadow in front of our line, the
13th and 16th regiments marched down in column by the
flank, changed front forward, at right angle to the main
line of battle of the army, bringing them in line of
battle upon the flank of the charging column of the
oneiuy, and opened a destructive fire ^t short range,
which the enemy sustained but a very few minutes be
fore the larger portion of them surrendered and marched
in, not as conquerors, but as captives. They had hardly
dropped their arms before another rebel column appear
ed charging upon our left. Col. Veazey of tho 16th was
at once ordered back to take it, in its turn, upon the
flank. This was done, as successfully as before. The
rebel force, already decimated by the fire of the 14th
regiment, was scooped, almost en masse, into our lines.
The 16th took, in this charge, the regimental^ colors of
the 2d Florida andStli Virginia regiments, and the bat
tle flag of another rebel regiment.
The 16th was supported for a time in the now advan
ced position it occupied after the charge, by four com
panies of tho 14th, under command of Lieut. Col.
Rose. The movements I have briefly described wore execu
ted in the open field, under a very heavy fiiro of shell,
grapo and musketry, and they were performed with the
promptness and precision of battalion drill. They
ended the contest on the centre, and substantially clos
ed tho battle.
Ofiicers and mon behaved like veterans, although it
was, for most of them, their first battle, and I am con
tent to leave it to the witnesses of the fight, whether or
no they sustained the credit of the service, and the hon
or of our Green Mountain State. „
That their efforts wore approved by the Division
General, is shown by the Gener.il Order appended to
this report.

APPENDIX. 219
The members of my staff, Capt. Wm. H. Hill, As
sistant Adjutant General, Lieut. G. W. Hooker, and
Lieut. G. G. Benedict, Aides-de-Camp, Lieut. Clark,
Provost Marshal, and Lieut. S. F. Prentiss, Ordnance
Officer, executed all my orders with the utmost prompt
ness, and their coolness under fire and good example
contributed essentially to the success of the day.
The list of casualties appended has been prepared
in haste upon the field, and is probably inaccurate in
some respects. Of those set down as missing, but one
is known to have been taken prisoner, and a number of
them will probably appear in the lists of killed and
wounded when the full returns shall have boon rocoivoil.
I am, tieneral, with respect,
your obedient servant,
G. J. STANNARD,
Brit;;. Gen. com'd'g 3d Brigade,
3rd Divis. 1st Army Corps.

ilE.iD-QUARTERS 3d DiA'ISION, IST A. C, ?
July 4, 1853. >
General Order, No.  .
The Major General commanding the Division desires
to retum his thanks to the Vermont Second Brigade,
the 151st regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers, and tho
20th regiment New York State Militia, for their gallant
conduct in resisting, in the front line, the main attack
of the enemy upon this position, after sustaining a ter
rific fire from 75 to 100 pieces of artillery. He con-
cr-ratulates them upon contributing so essentially to the

220 APPENDIX.
glorious, and it is to be hoped, decisive, victory of yes
terday. By command of
Maj. Gen. DOUBLEDAY,
(Signed) EDWARD C. BAIRD,
Capt. and Ass't Adj't Gen.
Ilead-Quai-ters, 3d Brigade, 3d Division, j
1st Army Corps, >
Gettysburg, Penn., July 4, 18()3. J
¦"Oflicial."
Wm. H. Hill,
Ass't Adj't Gen.

HE.lD-iiUARTEKS 3d BrIG., Sd DlV., IST CORPS,
Army of Potomac, July 15, 1863.
General Order, Xo. 10.

Thejirig. General Commanding, in view of the gal
lantry and efficiency of the 13th, llth and 16th Ver
mont Regiments, displayed at the battle of Gettysburg,
•directs that the flags of each of the Regiments be in
scribed " Gettysburg," that tho people of the State
may be reminded, at the sight of these flags, of the
men who boro and honored them in the hour of nation
al danger and triumph ; and that every soldier may
justly be proud of his devotion to country and credit
done to the State.
Nor does the General Commanding fail to appreci-
ciate the services rendered by the 12th and 15th
Vermont Regiments, who, at the same time, served
their country by the faithful discharge of important du-
.fies.

APPENDIX.

221

But while tho entire command may well be proud of
its laurels, thoy will not forget to remember the fallen
dead. Let their names bo embalmed in the hearts of
their comrades ! Let their memory be green as the
sod that cuvers them ! Lot their virtues and example
he A watchword in coming time I Let the tear of sym
pathy alleviate the sorrow of relatives and friends !
By order of
Brig. Gen. GEO. J. STANNARD.
Geo. W. Hooker, A. A. A. G.

AD.JUTAXT AND INSPECTOR GENERAL'S RE
PORT— 1863.

Tho Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, Fifteenth, ahd
Sixteenth Regiments have been brigaded together, dur
ing their term of service. The brigade was command
ed by Brig. Gen. Edwin II. Stoughton, until he was
captured by the enemy, and was then, for some months,
commanded by Col. Asa P. Blunt, of the Twelfth Re
giment. Afterwards, in April, 1863, Brig. Gen. Geo.
J. Stannard was assigned to tho command, and contin
ued in command until the expiration of the term of ser
vice of the regiments. Until June, the brigade was
stationed in front of Washington, the different regi
ments being located in the vicinity of Fairfax and Wolf
Run Shoals, and engaged in performing picket duty.
On the 25th of Juno the brigade left the line, under or
ders to report to Maj. Gen. Reynolds, commanding the
First Army Corps. The brigade joined that Corps at
Gettysburgh, on the evening of July 1st, after an ex
hausting march of seven days, during which they march
ed over one hundred and twenty-five miles.
The Twelfth and Fifteenth Regiments were ordered
to the rear, to protect the trains, and were not. allowed
an opportunity to participate in the battles of the sec-
o'nd and third of July. On the evening of the second
of July, the remaining regiments of the brigade were
moved to the front line, to take the place of troops
which had been broken by desperate charges of the en-
[222]

APPENDIX. 223
emy. Col. Randall, of the 13th Regiment, with five
companies of his regiment, made a gallant charge, and
re-took four guns of a battery, which had just been
captured by the enemy, and about eighty prisoners.
The brigade held the left centre of the front line
during the battle of July Sd, and endured, like vete
rans, the terrific fire of artillery, which was opened up
on them by the enemy ; and when the rebel column ad
vanced to the charge, the Thirteenth and Sixteenth
llegiments, under Colonels Randall and Veazey, chang
ed front and attacked the advancing column in flank,
performing most brilliantly the part asigned thom,
scattering the enemy, and taking a large number of
prisoners. Tho Sixteenth Regiment, by another
change of front, attacked in flank a second column of
the rebels which was charging upon that part of the
line held by the Fourteenth Regiment, under Col.
Nichols, and were again successful, capturing the col
ors of three rebel regiments, and taking many prison
ers. The officers and men of the three regiments won
the most distinguised praise from all the general offi
cers in command, and have rivalled the reputation
which the "Old Brigade" has won upon many hard
fought battle fields.
I annex copies of the report of Brig. Gen. Stannard
and of the complimentary order of Maj. Gen. Double-
dav, who commanded the division. The casualties
were as follows :
Thirteenth Regiment, Killed 8, Wounded 89, Mis
sing 26.
Fourteenth Regiment, Killed 17, Wounded 68, Mis
sing 22.
Sixteenth Regiment, Killed 14, Wounded 89, Mis
ting lo.
Tot.-il, Killed 39, Wounded 248, Missing 03.

224

APPENDIX.

Their term of service having expired, the regiments
have been mustered out, as follows :—
1863.

Twelfth Regiment

July 14,

Thirteenth "

"' 21,

Fourteenth ' '

" 30,

Fifteenth

August 5

Sixteenth

'¦ 10

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