-^' '^j^ V^ sO o. .•^^^ o :C .,v oX' -^" ,■0- o vV ./.. o^^ "<■' \0 o^ .^'^^ .^^ .5 -^^ "^, s.^' 0- V * A^ .^^^ "^. ^^x. -^ H -7-^ \^ ^^. o>' "**,>-^' n"~ .'^'^ r' C ■ , 4 "^1 PennsylvaniaJaryland and Virginia ' !'iil'lif'l»Hlln|',.nnis,si„M Boston CROSBY* NICHOLS ■•I" .,r .\l,|,.. THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. ARMY NOTES, FROM THE FAILURE AT WINCHESTER TO THE REENFORCEMEKT OF ROSECRANS. 1861-3. V ALONZO H^Vf^UINT, CHAPLAIN OF THE SECOND MASSACHUSETTS INFANTRY. BOSTON: CROSBY AND NICHOLS NEW YORK: O. S. FELT. 1864. •3> Kntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1804, by ALONZO H. QUINT, In tbe Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. ELECTROTTPED AT THE Boston Stereotype Foundry, No. 4 Spring Lane. I DEDICATE THIS A^ O L XJ MI E TO THE Wxuz anb- (faithful M'dt, WHO HAS NOBLY BORNE, FOE HER COUNTRY'S SAKE, THE PAIN OF LONG SEPARATION, AND THE CARE OF CHILDREN, AND WHO STILL. PATIENTLY WAITS FOR HER HUSBAND'S RETURN ; ONE OF THE THOUSANDS OF BRAVE WOMEN WHOSE HEARTS SUFFER IN THIS SACRED WAR. PREFACE. When I had tlie good fortune, in the spring of the year 1861, to be appointed Chaplain of the Second Massachusetts Infantry, I was asked by the proprietors of the Congrega- tionalist to become a correspondent of that paper. I did so ; and have written, Avith tolerable regularity, ever since. The Letters, so furnished, foi-m the basis of the present volume. This book is, however, far from being a mere reprint. I have omitted much ; and I have also added much from private notes, especially of facts, which could not properly be made public at the time of their occurrence. I have revised the whole as carefully as the very limited time at my disposal will allow. In no sense do these pages assume to be a history. They contain merely the frankest record of impressions received by an eye witness, of places and scenes in our eventful campaigns ; while, of my peculiar duties, I have never avoided nor intruded mention. Friends have urged me to C PREFACE. believe that these observations may be worth adding, in this more permanent form, to the materials of the future historian. If any one discovers a change of feeling, from that of political antagonism to the administration (generally ob- scure, of course), to that of hearty confidence in the ability, honesty, and Avisdom of its present head, I am not careful to deny it. Regretting deeply some acts, yet I wonder only that public affairs have been conducted so well, and promise so auspiciously. A somewhat parallel work, — the Record of the Second Massachusetts Infantry, — though covering the same cam- paigns, will prove to have an entirely different scope. I acknowledge my great indebtedness to the scholarly taste and accuracy of my friend, Mr. Samuel Burnham, of Boston, for his assistance in my absence. The index, also, is entirely his work. Camp of the Second Massachusetts Infantry, Akjiy of the Cumberland, March, 1864. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. PAGE THE FAILUKE AT WINCHESTER, 9-35 CHAPTER II. TO CONRAD'S FERRY AND RETURN, .... 36-61 CHAPTER III. LIFE NEAR FREDERICK TOWN, ..... 62-97 CHAPTER lY.. IN THE VALLEY, ........ 98-149 CHAPTER Y. THE RETREAT AND THE RETURN, .... 150-101 CHAPTER YI. MOVEMENTS UNDER GENERAL POPE, .... 163-184 CHAPTER VII. CEDAR MOUNTAIN, 185-194 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. POPE'S KETREAT, 195-209 CHAPTER IX. THE ANTIETAM AUTUMN, . . . . " . . 210-239 CHAPTER X. THE FREDERICKSBURG WINTER, . . . . . 240-276 CHAPTER XI. THE PREPARATION SPRING, 276-295 CHAPTER XII. TO CHANCELLORVILLE AND RETURN, .... 296-330 CHAPTER XIII. ON THE RAPIDAN, 337-351 CHAPTER XIV. FROM THE RAPIDAN TO THE TENNESSEE, . . . 352-378 CHAPTER XV. LIFE IN TENNESSEE, 379-398 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. CHAPTER I. THE FAILURE AT WINCHESTER. Near Darnestown, Md., September 6, 1861. You think it strange that I do not write. But I remem- ber that machinery used to suffer more by standing still a few months, than it would have done from the wear of use ; and that, when started, it ran heavily till the dust and dirt worked out and off. The very oil that had lubricated the bearings hardened into a hinderance. HoAV could you expect, then, my mental machinery to start into smooth running, after a few weeks of such change as that from a quiet village pastorate to the life of a camp, and the total cessation of all writing save the hasty epistles to a fcAV, very few friends, to revered and beloved father and mother, and to the two, mother and child, whose faces are first in thought at morn, and last at night? It used to take time to get into writing order after returning from one's summer vacation ; if that so diverted the mind from its usual current, how much greater the effect where reveille wakes (9) 10 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPID AN. one at morning dawn, where guard-mounting, parade, drill, and scouting are the day's history, and where tattoo and taps are the last sound before sleep — save when hostile shots call for more sentries, or the long roll starts every soldier to arms ; where the very Sabbath morn is the hour for weekly inspection ; where one's congregation is marshalled by the drum-beat, and marches by companies, with soldierly tread, to the grove of Avorship, to stand or sit in ranks, and where your very choir is detailed by orders, like a picket guard ! Nor are you to forget that the comforts of civilization are not always at hand. You sit at a comfortable desk, and have a good pen (pi'ovided it is quill) , and an inkstand. / seldom see ink, as a fluid. I sit now on a bundle of straw. I hold my paper on my knees. A canvas shields me from the pouring rain. On my door there is no such ingenious catch as guards your sanctum (partly because I have no door), and no man is barred from the chaplain's tent. My time is occupied. We are continually moving. Imagine, therefore, the difiiculty of vsa'iting. And now, when I am virtuously determined, what shaU I write about? War? I have no engagements to describe. We have been in an enemy's land, it is true, and our sentinels have been fired upon night after night. We took our place in a noble column of twenty thousand men, burning to fight, but, within ten nrfks of the enemy, our general, like a King of France, — "With twice ten thousand men, Marched up a hill, and then marched down again, — and left Johnston to go unchecked to fatal Manassas. But no bloody scenes have we yet experienced, though the bullets are restless in our muskets. I could write of leaving home ; of a dear church still in A CHAPLAIN'S POSITION. 11 memory ; of the crowd and hurrahs which speeded us ; of the last hand-shake at the railway with as dear a friend as pastor or man ever had ; of a little note received there, now treas- ured near the heart ; of the curve which hid the eight years' home at last ; of the real ovation in New York ; of a long, wearying journey, night and day, across New Jersey, sweep- ing through Central Pennsylvania, meeting the fires of the iron fvirnaces at morning gray, dipping our hands and bathing our faces in the beautiful river of the Lehigh Valley, dashing doAvn the magnificent wheat-fields of the Cumberland Valley, across the lordly Susquehanna at Harrisburg, making no rest till Ave enter HagerstOAATi at midnight, there for the first time to meet pacing sentinels, and hear the peremptory " Halt ! " at every corner ; of the marching to the Potomac, camping a night by its waters, of fording at dawTi, entering Virginia ; of passing by old skirmish fields and deserted camps of rebellion ; of many a hard and toilsome march ; of camps where every man who slept slept upon his arms. And now we wait in readiness for whatever orders may come ; and when the fray comes, Massachusetts blood will be true. Of a chaplain's position I will wi'ite to-day, though with but a feAV months' experience. Could the opportunities for good here, and the strange fascinations of this strange life be felt, not a minister in Massachusetts but Avould long for these scenes. Our government did Avell to establish this office. Do not believe the burlesque Avhich describes a chaplain's position as useless or uncomfortable. He must meet hard- ships. Sometimes he may go hungry. Often, perhaps, he must make, with others, the ground his bed, with no cover- ing but the skies. Often will he be Avet and tired. But one Avith a good constitution draws only ncAV life from these things. He is invigorated ; and headaches are unknown ; 12 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. and fastidiousness of appetite vanishes ; and fear of cold air ends. Sunburnt and rough he becomes, but he is the more a man. And the more a minister becomes a man^ the better he can fulfil his noble mission. There is every opportunity for usefulness. Our officers welcome every effort for the religious good of the regiment. Our men meet openly and frankly every advance which they feel comes from the heart. Every privilege a chaplain asks for (if he is wise enough to confine himself to his o^vn affairs, and regard the duties required of the men) is freely granted. "May I have evening prayer-meetings occasionally?" I asked of our colonel. " Certainly," said he, " every night in the week, if you wish." The hour or place of public wor- ship is at my own disposal. I have the freest entrance to every tent. I have the privileges of an officer Avithout his vexations. I have countersigns, and what is at present an exceptional case, I can cross the lines at pleasure. I dis- tribute such books and papers as I please. With much that is painful to meet, — pains of body and evils of conduct which jar upon the nerves, — yet the opportunity for good is abundant. Then there are special conditions which help usefulness. While it is impossible to know all the men, yet one is armed with many a letter from mothers and sisters. One learns the circumstances of many young men. The hospital makes acquaintance Avith the sick. The very care of post-office helping brings personal knowledge of mauy home ties. The discipline of a regiment, also, is favorable to the encourage- ment of good habits. The very rule of obedience to which all are bound, illustrates obedience to God. The necessary trust in commanders is a faint image of needed trust in God. The punishment of wrong strikes at the root of sickly ideas as to God's indifference to sin. And the constant change of OLD AND NEAV HABITS. 13 place and of the kind of duty easily illustrates the faith of one Avho " went out not knowing Avhither he went." But the chief advantage is in the thorough breaking up of old associations and habits of life. New scenes have dis- placed the old. The old formality is ended. Intercourse between minister and soldier is free and familiar — far dif- ferent from that in the stereotyped localities where the pa- rishioner sleeps in his hired pew. An unknown freshness and life is the rule. The crust which grows over men at home is broken. Society is disintegi'ated ; it crystallizes in new forms. There is no time to settle into chronic dulness. Events are too rapid to allow of bondage to form. Men in proximity to danger are not insensible. Our New England men are not ashamed to acknowledge their need of God's help, and many a petition goes up in silence when they start on some expedition. It is not strange that one forgets entirely the momentous question whether Scripture should precede singing, or singing precede Scripture ; whether the congregation should, during singing, face the minister or the choir ; whether standing in prayer is a saving ordinance ; Avhether it is wicked for a minister to disuse the razor. All these things are vital, doubtless, at Ijome ; but here, where men have taken their lives in their hands at their country's call, such formalities seem trivial. Pardon me, if I suggest, also, that one forgets even his denomination, though far from forgetting the dear friends with Avhom he has taken sweet counsel. Whether immersion is better than sprinkling, or bishop than minister, or predestination than free-will, — all are swallowed up in the vital questions of life or death, God's favor or his frown, the broad Fatherhood, and the unity of discipleship. In such a changed life, written sermons are forgotten, and pulpits 2 14 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. are obsolete. The minister aucl a thousand men stuncl up face to face and heart to heai't, ignorant but that before another day the ranks may be thinned. Darnestown, Md. From notes of July 10-20, 18G1. We joined General Patterson's command on the 1 2th of July. It was a pleasant afternoon Avhen we entered Martinsb.urg, and found the road lined with soldiers who seemed to have no special occupation that day. Doubtless the men were brave men, but their less than three months' service, many of them under poor officers, had failed to give to many regiments a soldierly appearance. It seemed exactly as if everybody was bent on a holiday excursion. But the men were in the best spirits, and eager to do something in the fighting line. We camped with the rest, and began to " forage " for infor- mation. We learned that G-eneral Patterson's force had assembled at Chambersburg, where he took command about the first of June. He had advanced to near the Potomac about a fort- night afterward, and on the 16th of June crossed half or more of his force into Virginia by the AVilliamsport ford, but on the next day, or day after, had returned to the Maryland side. No further movement had been made until the 2d of July. On that day he recrossed into Virginia, meeting no opposition save from a few skirmishers. But at Falling Waters, a little stream five or six miles further on, he encountered sufficient force of the enemy to bring on a smart little action, in which he drove the enemy for two miles. When we passed over the road, ten days afterward, the broken fences and rem- TOWARD WINCHESTER. 15 Hants of equipments thrown away in flight showed unmistaka- bly the rout of the rebels. General Patterson stopped pursuit, but on the next day entered Martinsburg without opposition. Nine days more had elapsed when our regiment joined the army at Martinsbm-g. Wonder was quite freely expressed that so much delay had taken place, both before leaving Maryland and after arriving at Martinsburg ; but this was only camp talk. Orders were issued, however, on the 14th, to be ready to move the next morning ; and the hills around Martinsburg were brilliantly lighted that evening by the fires where rations were being cooked for the march. It appeared high time that some movement was made, if the general ex- pected to use his men, as their three months' term was nearly ended, — our own regiment being, I think, the only three years' one in his command. The rebel General Johnston was well known to be between us and Winchester, and everybody was in excellent humor at the prospect of advance. We did move on Monday morning. The army was marched on two parallel roads. Huge wagon trains ac- companied us. Our forces were generally reckoned at about twenty thousand men. We reached Bunker Hill in the afternoon. If the enemy had been there, he had left before we reached the dirty ham- let. There were plenty of rumors that he was on a great variety of sides of us ; but if he was, he kept quiet. We bivouacked. Next day we heard stories of terrible obstruc- tions on the roads. Johnston, men said, was at Winchester, with^ibrty thousand men, sixty pieces of artillery, savage earthworks, and miles of rifle-pits. I do not think that any- body believed much of the talk ; certainly, everybody wanted to try the matter. And on Wednesday morning, we moved. It seemed that IG THE POTOmIc AND THE KAPJDAN. the hoperf uf the army were to be gratified. A little puzzled at first we were ; for wc took a road eastward, while Win- chester lay southward. But " we are going to flank them ; we go doAvn on another road, and avoid all the obstructions." So we went on, crossing a creek to which an old road, just repaired, led us. When, however, Ave turned toward Charles- town, and thus away from Winchester, perplexity was felt, and then displeasure. The idea generally held had been, that our object was to whip Johnston. But I had picked up the fact, from what an officer knew, and what his military experience told him ought to be, that General Patterson's movements were in correspondence with those of General McDowell in front of Washington, and that the recovery of Winchester was of little importance compared with the need of keeping Johnston there. I confess I could not see how that Avas to be done, but I do not understand strategy. How angry the men were on finding they were going to Charlestown ! They called it a retreat. From that moment they lost -confidence. Of proceedings at Charlestown I saw nothing, because our regiment was sent on the next day to occupy Harper's Ferry. We did so, and received a flag which the women had privately prepared to present to the first regiment of Union troops which should enter the town. The corps came on to Harper's Ferry on Sunday, the 21st. Then Ave learned that Johnston had left Winchester ; that General Patterson had appealed to the troops to remain beyond their term of service, and march on the enemy ; and that almost all had refused, on the ground that the time for advance had been thrown aAvay, and they would not serA'e under General Patterson. These were camp stories, it is true, but I think they Avere correct. REASONS OF FAILURE. 17 Very ^oon, General Patterson was relieved. General Banks took command. His first act, I believe, was to cross to the Maryland side. The three months' men rapidly left. Of those still there the general knew the feeling perfectly. Three years' men came rapidly in. Colonel Gordon Avas continued in charge of the Ferry, and three companies of the Massachusetts Second were left on the Virginia side, under command of Lieutenant-Colonel Andrews. There we lay, with that part of Virginia lost, until, in the latter part of August, the whole Corps moved to their present position. Many details have come to light, of course, in the nearly two years since the foregoing was noted do^ATi. Who was to blame, if blame existed, is a matter for military men to decide. The people were indignant then because their ex- pectations were not fulfilled ; so was the Corps, because not led against the enemy. It seems settled that General McDowell would have conquered at Bull Run, but for the few thousand men which, led by General Johnston, reenforced the I'ebel army. General Patterson, it was alleged, wasted time, both north of the Potomac and at Winchester. I have stated already that the same feeling prevailed in his com- mand. He declared that he waited for transportation, and also for harnesses for the artillery horses, Avhile north of the river, and that at Martinsburg he was actually keeping Johnston at Winchester. That he recrossed the Potomac on the 16th of June, he insists, was necessary, because Gen- eral Scott took away at that time all his regulars and some other troops, and left him without a single piece of artillery, in front of superior forces. His turning off at Charlestown, he says, was only in pursuance of a plan, previously assented to in Washington, to abandon the long Williamsport line of supplies, and secure Harper's Ferry as his base. But that 2* 18 THP: POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. that was approved as an earlier project, aud not as a re- treat, seems clear. He believed in the stories of large forces at Winchester, Avhich hardly another man probably did. The ti'uth has appeared that Johnston could never have had over fifteen thousand men, even if more than twelve. Gen- eral Patterson's force, by his own estimate, was eighteen thousand and two hundred effective men, consisting of seven- teen and a half Pennsylvania regiments, five New York, and one each from New Hampshire, Massachusetts (three years) , Indiana, and Wisconsin, — averaging six hundred and fifty men each, — with one thousand cavalry and artillery. On the day we left Martinsburg, the three months' men had from four days to nearly a month to serve, two thirds having less than a fortnight. Most of these, it is true, Avere raw troops ; but so were Johnston's. When General Patterson left Bunker Hill, on the 17th, he thought he had accomplished what was expected of him ; namely, the detaining of Johnston at Winchester until after the date assigned by General Scott for the advance of McDowell, the 16th. A longer experience in the field would perhaps have forbade his depending on a promised date of a battle yet to be fought. Whether, however, he could have detained Johnston at Winchester, puzzles an ordinary thinker. How any " demonstration " could have kept Johnston from leaving that town any time he chose, is hard to see. For Winches- ter was exactly between the position of General Patterson and the point of railway Johnston would aim at to go to Manassas. The rebels cared nothing for Winchester. Bull Run was the important place. To threaten Winchester would not keep a rebel army there. If Patterson approached Winchester on one side, Johnston could certainly march off on the other, which was the way to Manassas. THE RESULT. 19 Whether General Patterson should have attacked AYiu- chester at an earlier date, is another question. He thought it a useless attempt. We now know that the forces there were small, and that the defences were contemptible. But he did not believe so then ; and able officers agreed with him. We have no right to judge a commander by data we now have, but which he could not then have. I have heard able military men say that Patterson's posi- tion was wrong from the beginning ; that he should have occupied Harper's Ferry early, securing rapid supplies, and have taken position to command the Shenandoah fords. Then, if Johnston moved towards Manassas, he must have exposed himself gi'eatly ; or, General Patterson, if he pre- ferred, could have reached Bull Run as early, at least, as Johnston. But of this matter I am not competent to speak. Certain it is, that on the day when Patterson turned back to Charlestown, Johnston, who appears to have been doing pre- cisely what Patterson was sent to do, — detain his enemy in the valley, — was satisfied that he had succeeded, and imme- diately started for Bull Run. Neak Darnestown, Md., September, 21, 1861. Three weeks have passed away since we encamped on this spot, — how many of us I ndust not tell, though probably the enemy know with sufficient accuracy, from the traitors with which this section abounds. There is no harm in saying, however, that while General McClellan is in command of this whole " Army of the Potomac," the immediate charge of the ti'oops this side of Tenuallytown (a few miles north of Georgetown) is divided between General Banks — in whose 20 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. division we arc — and Brigadier-General St( ne, Avho is located further up the river. Thus the north bank of the Potomac is lined with a fine army. As it becomes evident that the enemy may cross, if cross at all, above Washington, our position becomes important. On the opposite bank are rebel troops in plenty, with Avhom ours exchange various kinds of courtesies, sometimes with good-natured greetings, sometimes with crashing shot and bursting shell, or with the Enfield minies, which leap a mile or so at a jump. In such a neighborhood, we are by no means indifierent, when there comes, as it did last night at two o'clock, " Be ready for the field at a moment's notice." We Avere ready ; the muskets of the Massachusetts Second are never out of order ; its car- tridge-boxes are full ; its courage is always high ; its order perfect ; its bearing stahvart, firm, and solid ; its material active, hardy, and brave, — embracing old soldiers of the Mexican and of the Florida wars, of the English army, of the European Continent, of Sebastopol (both Russian and Eng- lish), and of the noble Havelock in his march to Liickuow ; its officers able and educated ; its commander a graduate of West Point, nine years in the army, a soldier in Kansas, in the Oregon Avilds, and through the war which led our victo- rious troops to the city of Mexico, — still bearing in his body the Mexican lead. The regiment drills hours every day, Avaiting the hoped-for opportunity to show in action what it can do. Our regiment is still in the Second Brigade (General Abercrombie's), with the First Pennsylvania Battery, the TAvelfth and Sixteenth Indiana, and the excellent Twelfth Massachusetts, Avhich last has just marched (by night) to a spot still nearer the river. Other brigades are around us. A system of signals is aa'cII organized. The telegraph is A SOLDIER'S FUNERAL. 21 ueai'ly established. Any attempt on the part of rebels to cross the river will precipitate upon them a vigilant and hardy army. The ordinary routine of campaigning of course goes on. We have few hardships ; the food is good and abundant now ; the climate is delightful ; there is little sickness. But this routine is sometimes changed. It was to-day. lu the midst of active di-ill, the step ceased, the bugles were silent, the ranks took their iron position. It was when the band of another regiment passed by, pouring out their melan- choly wailing for the dead. It was a soldier's funeral, and among the thousands in our camps, there was a reverent silence. My thoughts went back to the first funeral at which I had officiated. It was at Harper's Ferry, while our regiment occu- pied that post. There had been brought into our hospital a soldier of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania, — then on its way home at the expiration of its three months' service, — whom that regiment left with us one afternoon as they passed through the place. That evening, as I passed at a late hour through the hospital, I noticed this new face, and on inquiry found the facts. He was sick with typhoid fever, very sick. Little more than a boy in years, he was to me, then, nameless, not one of ours, but he was a suiFering soldier, and may God bless every one of such. I did not press him to speak, but he recognized the name of our Saviour, and looked up as if waiting to hear. It was too late to question, too late for human comfort. I dared say little, but I could not but think that some friends, father, mother, perhaps a yet closer one, whom I never saAV, and doubtlejfs never shall see, whose very resi- dence I know nothing of, might be glad to know that some of the blessed promises of our Lord were whispered in his ear, 22 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIUAN. and that a few words of prayer asked for the soul of this dying man, whose hand I held, the favor of our Father and our Saviour. That night he died. He was buried the next evening in the way of soldiers, which, to one unaccustomed to the sight, is deeply interesting. A suitable escort (for a private, eight rank and file, properly commanded) is formed in two ranks opposite to the tent of the deceased, with shouldered arms and bayonets unfixed ; on the appearance of the cofiin the soldiers present arms. The procession then forms, on each side of the coffin being three bearers, without arms ; immediately preceding are the eight soldiers, with arms reversed (the musket under the left arm, barrel downward, and steadied by the right hand behind the back) ; in front is the music, than whose dirge no sadder sounds ever fell upon my ear, as they procecfd to the place of burial. With slow and measured step, and mufiled drum, they move. At the grave, the coffin is placed upon oiie side, the soldiers resting upon their arms, the muzzle upon the foot, the hands clasped upon the butt, and the head bowed upon the hands. The chaplain, who has Avalked in the rear of the coffin, conducts the burial service ; " eai'th to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Three volleys are fired over the grave, and the last kindness to the comrade is over. The graveyard left, immediately the band strike up a cheerful air, and take their Avay back to camp and to living duties. It was thus we buried the stranger soldier. He had no friend who knew him there. No kindred wept by the side of the grave. His bed was made alone, in a deserted grave- yard, on the bold cliff that overlooks the two rivers united in the mighty stream which pours its aflluence into the Atlantic. But the soldiers subdued Jlieir roughness, and laid him down tenderly. The frequent oath was unheard. The solemn MILITARY PREPARATIONS. 23 silence was scarcely broken by the low words of command. When the sharp volleys echoed up and down the valleys, the shadows had already fallen on the lordly rivers, the Potomac and Shenandoah, rolling by, far below us ; but the gorgeous evening sunlight was richly clothing the dark green forests of both Maryland and Virginia heights, towering over us. His grave was cut in a hard and rocky soil ; but out of that soil the evergreen Avas thriving and the wild flowers perfumed the air. It was on the very day his regiment was mustered out of service, that we biu'ied him ; and turning backward to our fragile homes, we found the order already given, " Ready to march ; " and soon we struck our tents, and forded the dark and foaming river which separated the rebel from the loyal state. He had forded a darker and rougher river, which, we hoped as we left him, no longer kept him in a world of sin, and out of the land of perfect peace. And so will throngs be buried, in this sad and mournful war. But out of the great clouds of private sorrow will rise the triumph of our country's glory. Near Darnestown, Md., September 27, 1861. No movements have yet taken place here, beyond the oc- casional arrival and departure of regiments, and a now and then change of camp of some regiments. It is whispered that an advance may be made within a few weeks ; but that silent man who wields the order of the army of the Potomac gives no sign. Intense activity prevails, however. Drill, drill, drill ; and now the battalion drill is performed with knapsacks as if for march, by which the men are becoming prepared for the time Avlien tents and wagons are left behind in camp, and 24 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. they meet the foe face to face. Officers are hinted to with reference to the pr6priety of their having haversacks also, capacious enough for a few days' rations against the time when board will be scarce. All sorts of rumors fly around, and every new regiment expects to land directly into battle. But a little experience induces a cool distrust in everything except absolute oi'ders to march, especially in a regiment like ours, which is, I believe, the oldest in service here, having had the felicity to form part of " Patterson's Column," Avhich, to new regiments, seems antediluvian. To-day is a rainy day. It drizzles a Avhile, it pours a while, and then, by way of variety, pours and drizzles. AU drill is suspended. Men stay in their tents, — barring the luckless fellows who pace up and down in overcoats, with muskets reversed, — relieved, however, every two hours, for another batch to get wet. Only the necessary duties of camp go on. In their tents some men read ; some write (often affectionate epistles — as their care to keep the sheet hidden shows) ; some mend trousers and such things ; some sing ; some gamble (which is not made an offence by the articles of war) , and by w^hich some of our men are stripped of every cent by expe- rienced sharpers — poor moths, who will fly into the candle in spite of all remonstrance, though some have been saved. Some draw great enjoyment from tobacco smoke, their remedy for various ills. The sutler drives a brisk business in ginger- bread, lemons, nuts, confectionery, and such like. And so the day wears on, not dismally to them, nor without oppor- tunities of usefulness, to which the rain is no obstacle when one has rubber coat, leggings, cap, and cape. The ordinary routine of the day in camp is this : at twenty minutes past sunrise the reveille is beaten, drum echoing to drum, till regiment after regiment is again a hive of busy life. CAMP ROUTINE. 25 Roll call immediately follows, every man in company line. At seven o'clock the drum and fife announce breakfast, which cooks permanently detailed for each company have been preparing. At half past seven is sick call, when the surgeon meets all soldiers not able to be out. At eight o'clock is guard mounting, which is quite a display. The band are in position at their ordinary place for dress parade. At their music a detail numbering, at present, one lieuten- ant, one sergeant, four corporals, and seventy-two privates, marches to the pai'ade. The line is formed, the arms are in- spected, and appearance noted. The men are then marched in review, and then one " relief" (there are three) to the post of each sentinel, where, after various useful, but to me mysterious conferences, the old sentinel is relieved, takes his place in the rear, and a new one is stationed ; and so on around the camp. The old guard discharge their pieces, and are dismissed, each one having been, for the twenty-four hours, two hours on guard and four oiF in every six — a post of honor and of grave responsibility. To sleep on his post hazards the penalty of death. Then, in decent weather, at nine o'clock the music sounds for company drill, — each company by itself, — when all kinds of queer manoeuvres are gone through for an hour and a half. At one o'clock is dinner. At three P. M. is battalion drill, when the regiment drills under a field ofiicer, with a brisk- ness and life probably pleasanter to see than to experience. This lasts an hour and a half. At twenty minutes before five is the first call for evening parade ; twenty minutes are devoted to the minute inspection of arms and equipments ; and at five o'clock is the dress parade, the great show of the day. At six P. M. is supper. At half past eight tattoo is beaten, and the roll called; at nine o'clock "taps" on the 3 26 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. drum signalize " lights out ! " And after this only the soli- tary step of pacing sentinels, with now and then a challenge and response, or perhaps the gallop of an orderly with some despatch to the commander, breaks the stillness of the night. We have no locks on our doors ; but one feels secure enough with eighty sentries around the camp, and a thousand bay- onets at hand, with yet other regiments and sentries still circling outside, and with mounted men scouring the land for miles in every direction. The President's Fast Day, yesterday, was appropriately regarded. An order from General Banks called attention to it, and directed its observance. It was a day of rest from drill, in fact from all work which could be dispensed with. The most noticeable feature of the day was the public service, held in a beautiful field near the little village of Darnestown, whither all the regiments in this immediate locality proceeded in full uniform, and with arms. It was a beavxtiful sight, when from many different camps the several regiments marched toward the field, some on the open road, some winding through the woods, all with their music. Each Avas assigned to its place in the most orderly way, until thousands upon thousands stood in a dense mass. A platform held the vari- ous chaplains, the commanding general, and many of his officers of rank. The sight from this elevation was beauti- ful. The green wood skirted the field at a short distance on the right. The little village lay quietly in front. Directly before the platform were the solid ranks of infantry, reaching far right and left and in front, with cavalry on the one flank and artillery on the other. The multitude of banners, the motionless posture of men, the thousands standing in com- pact array, the glittering of the sunlight on a forest of bay- onets, the firm and devout air, with the reflection that in a FAST DAY SERVICE. 27 few days this mass of soldiery might be hurled upon the enemy, — many, alas ! in human probability, never more to return, — could but inspire a beholder with mingled feelings of delight and sorrow. The services were these : The President's Proclamation was read by Chaplain Gaylord, of the Thirteenth Massachu- setts ; Chaplain Reed, of the Thirteenth Pennsylvania, offered the prayer of invocation ; Chaplain Sewall, of the Twenty- ninth Pennsylvania, read selections of Scripture, and the hymn, " My country, 'tis of thee," in which the united bands led the voices of the soldiers ; Chaplain Phillips, of the Ninth New York, offered prayer, and led in the Lord's Prayer ; the Chaplain of the Second Massachusetts read the Army Hymn, — which was sung to " Old Hundred," in a majestic style, — • and he made the address (or sermon, it may be) for the day ; and Chaplain Lasher, of the Fifth Connecticut, offered the concluding prayer, and after the doxology, pronounced the benediction. The topic of the address, after an intro- duction alluding to our peculiar need of God's help, was, " The cause in which we are enlisted is a cause on which we can hopefully ask God's blessing " — the cause of gov- ernment against anarchy, of government against an unpro- voked rebellion, of a government forbearing to the last moment, of a government rebelled against because its instinc- tive principle is Liberty, by traitors whose sole moving prin- ciple is Slavery. One could hardly realize the change from quiet home wor- ship to the gathering in one service of a whole division of the army. But when the commanders had sprung to their saddles, tlie rattling of sabres had ceased, the rumbling of artillery wheels had passed out of hearing, the dancing ban- ners had disappeared, — then reveries of home came back, 28 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. and faces of parishiouers, aud laughing eyes of children, and the mental photograph of tried and faithful friends, whom may God bless. Camp near Darnestown, Md., October 5, 18G1. In the absence of special news, why shall I not recall such rambling reminiscences as have outlasted our several later marches, regarding the places where John Brown acted and suffered ? The movements of pur regiment, it happened, led us to every spot memorable for his transactions ; and there were few whose interests did not lead them to examine these localities. Why not? It is true that when one remembers the general disapproval with which the sober judgment of the North answered that startling raid, it seems strange that a Northern regiment should march through New York, with a thousand voices singing that peculiar song, — " John Brown's gone to join the army of the Lord," with the gazing nuiltitudes joining the Avild chorus, — " Glory, glory, hallelujah ! " Nor am I now ready to approve of it ; nor will many. But it was then evident that there existed a latent admiration for the stern, persistent, self-sacrificing man, perilling and losing life for a cause he believed to be righteous. Nor is it pos- sible to ignore the fact that now his enemies have made themselves our enemies ; that the system whose outrages tasked, perhaps overpowered, the strength of his reason, has insanely raised its sacrilegious hand against our country ; and that if John Brown deserved death, infinitely more does every rebel now in arms. His crime — if crime it was — is insignifi- cant beside that of these perjured thieves and traitors. He was JOHN BROWN. 29 a man ; Avhat I think of the people here, thus far, I will tell in some future letter. We entered Charlestown, Va. (I shall take the places as we came to them) , late in the evening, after a long and hard day's march. Our regiment had spent the preceding night in bivouac, where we had the pleasure of commencing an out-door experience of no tents, with the ground for bed, and, that night, a projecting root for pillow, — than which no night's need have been better, barring a shower toward morning. At four o'clock in the morning our regiment was in column ; and it had, during the day, an honorable position in the rear guard of. an army of twenty-two thousand. It was evening Avhen we approached Charlestown. The run- ning of cars from Winchester — the rebel camp — to Charles- town, heard q,ll the preceding night, had raised an expecta- tion of active duty ; but a few shell from a light battery had scattered the rebel cavalry, who left Charlestown as the head of our column entered. It was a beautiful evening. Light, fleecy clouds occasionally glided before the moon, only to bring out in silvery brilliancy the long column of dancing bayonets, visible in front or rear, as they rose and fell over the rolling ground. The tread of troops and the rumbling of wagons hardly broke the quiet. As we approached the town, the sentence was passed from one to another, " In this town John Brown was hung ; " and probably no thought was so predominant as that, when our tired men sank down upon the ground to sleep. Late as it was, I had occasion to walk a mile or more, with one or two others, to the village, where our assistant surgeon had to provide accommodations for a sick officer. It Avas past eleven when Ave entered the shabby town, and sought the hotel. On our road Ave met one of the guard, o. * 30 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAX. who showed us our Avay, aud as we were crossing a stone bridge, he pointed to tlie right : '• In that field," said he, " John Bi'own was hung." At the hotel we found the landlord somewhat impractica- ble. Pie was secession in feeling, and vexed — as all the Charlestown people were — at the entirely unexpected arri- val of our army, and no better natured for the lateness of the hour. He was, in fact, somewhat sullen, until a thought entered my mind to try, at random, the effect of certain signs belonging to an institution which an absurdly humorous writer in the Congregationalist, a year or two ago, called "the worship of demons," — to whom I owe thanks for many a hearty laugh these weeks. The signs fortunately struck the right spot, aud were responded to. Our sick were attended to, and a hot supper provided for ourselves ; and we were speedily on terms of free chat Avith the landlord. Talking with him of the crowds then in toAvn, he replied, " We haven't had such a crowd since John Brown was hvmg." A little encouragement drew out his opinion, as well as a full account of the circumstances. The latter were in all the papers. The former showed the effect which John Brown's manliness had even on a Southern mind. He respected the old man. I particularly recollect the deep impression which John Brown's indignant refusal to avail himself of the plea of insanity, urged by his counsel, had made. The very words were quoted, and it was the evident opinion that but for that the life of the accused would have been saved. The quiet firmness of the death scene, and the apparent honesty through- out, were far from forgotten. The people evidently had felt that Brown was a hero, but in a bad cause. The next day I visited the jail and the room where he had been confined, aud so did many others. It is upon the main JOHN BROWN. 31 street, aud by no means repulsive. The kindness of the jailer was still commented upon. I visited also the court-room where the famous trial took place. I saw the spot where he had reposed. I sat down in the chair of the judge. The places where the counsel stood Avere pointed out ; and I summoned up, as well as I could in fancy, the scenes which in that room had shaken half a continent. I saw also the field of execution, as did thousands upon thousands. The place of the gallows was ascertained, — the timbers of which were preserved in town, — and multitudes eagerly carried away memorials, even to the soil which pressed against the posts. Our regiment was in a few days sent forward to occupy Harper's Ferry alone. It Avas an honorable post, and we were Avelcomed with joy. To see tears rolling down many a cheek at the sight of the old flag, Avas a pleasant sight after the sullen hate of the other places where we had been. Here remaining for some weeks, Avith our OAvn colonel as com- mandant of the post, even after the bulk of the army had come, we had opportunities to visit every memorable spot. The famous JeiFerson Rock Avas there ; but fcAV visited it, while many curiously examined every place famous for John Brown's footsteps. The massive and beautiful bridge Avhich he had held, over the Potomac, Avas in ruins. Southern A'andals had destroyed it. But the place of his guard Avas remembered. The spot where he had stopped, and then, not Avisely, released, the raihvay train ; the arsenal held by him at first ; the ruins of the very muskets once at his dis- posal, noAV lying in heaps Avhere our own troops afterward fired the building to keep them from rebel hands ; the rock in the river Avhere one of his men was barbarously shot in crossing ; the mountain woods where another hid till driven 32 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIUAN. oivt by himger, — all these plenty of citizens were ready lo show. But chief iu interest was the engine-house where his final and useless defence took place. I recognized it from the pictures then published. It has two double doors, each Avide enough for the entrance of a fire-engine, — thick, mas- sive doors. There still remain, unaltered, the several holes made through the brick walls, to enable the besieged to fire on their assailants. Former spectators showed where the few United States soldiers unhesitatingly advanced to batter in the doors, and where companies of Virginia soldiers had wisely hid out of danger of the rifles, contenting themselves with preventing escape till men of some courage should dare a capture. All the arsenal buildings were worthy of inspec- tion, but the long lines of noble shops were mainly in ghastly ruins ; the very trees of that once beautiful spot, scorched to death, cast the shadows of tlicir leafless limbs upon the blackened Avails. One of them, still retaining a roof, I shall always remember as the place where our Northern regiment met to worship, Avhile the roar of thunder and the flash of lightning Avere the accompaniments to the old psalms which rolled through the long structure. But, by some chance, the only building of that vast series Avhich still remains unin- jured, is the engine-house wdiich John BroAvn made his fortress ; and over it still Avave the green trees, unhurt. Is it a prophetic emblem ? Our regiment, by and by, crossed the Potomac. It Avas l)y the same ford, unused for many years, till noAV reopened, by Avhich the Virginia troops departed for Cambridge in 1775. On the Maryland Heights opposite Ave bivouacked for Aveeks. Yet, by the providence AAdiich seemed to folloAv us, Ave Avere in the fields and snug by the house of the first man Avho met John BroAvn, Avhen, under an assumed name. JOHN BROWN. 33 he was looking for a farm to occupy, preparatory to his pe- culiar purpose. From him, whose heart was unlocked by tlie same key as the Charlestown landlord's, I gathered full accounts of their conversation, and how a farm, mentioned by this man, as he and Brown stood at the gate before us, was taken. Brown had made a favorable impression, as Avell as his sons ; "he never saw anything out of the way in him," though Brown would never enter his house. The farm was two or three miles off, and there is nothing peculiar there. The people were mystified by Brown's movements, he said. Some peculiar articles which he had they thought were some kind of divining tools. Brown laughed >vhen he heard of it ; they were surveying implements. The last spot I saw in this connection was the school-house where the arms Avere hid. One night, going out with our adjutant, Avho was taking particular care on that occasion in stationing our picket guard, about three fourths of a mile from our guard we came to the building referred to. It is smaller than any of our country school-houses ; like even dwelling-houses here, it is of logs, with a layer of mud of equal thickness alternating with each log, save at the cor- ners. A respectable farmer in New England furnishes bet- ter accommodations for his pigs. The roof is now partly destroyed, it having been set on fire. The floor is nearly all gone. Under that floor the ai'ms had been concealed, and there also was hidden one of the men^ while his enemies were searching the Avoods, and even entering the house. It was from this building that Brown dismissed the school one day, to take possession. It is a quiet place, half a mile from the Potomac, with nothing habitable near save the huts of boughs which rebel soldiers had since occupied and abandoned. If I were asked the impression made upon my mind as to 34 THE POTOMAC AND THE KAPIDAN. opinions in these localities, I should say that while John Brown was and is called a fanatic, lie was and is respected. He was made, by the trial and execution, a hero. The dar- ing exhibited in his attempt, the manliness he showed on his trial, the calmness with which he met death, made a lasting and deep impression. The local effect Avas powerful. On our march to Charlestown, stopping for a few moments at a house by the way, I pointed out the path to some soldiers crowding in for water, that I might appease the needlessly frightened family. "While waiting till all were satisfied, some conversation took place Avitli some of the inmates, who were secessionists, in the course of which the mistress of the house said frankly, " "We do not dare direct our servants as you spoke to those soldiers." I had merely and pleasantly pointed out a path away from the lawn, and I asked her, " Why?" " We are afraid of them. We have not dared order them since old John Brown's affair. The servants have always said since, ' Well, somebody's coming like old Brown, yet.' " Such is the general feeling in that vicinity. Nor did the slaves hesitate to express their delight at our presence. Shame on the miserable business our army had, to send back fugitives ! Nor did residents there attach only a local importance to the transactions of that time. They felt — and I feel with them — that thence dated this war. The South trembled on seeing that its pet system had no safe foundation. Its En- celadus was under the volcano, and the heavings were too perilous. From that date it began to arm. All over tlie slave country- military companies were formed. Its Wises began to plot. Its Floyds b«gan to steal. And therefore, when the war began, the South was ready, while the imcon- scious North, Avhieh had disapproved the raid, and supposed JOHN BROWN. 35 it had thereby satisfied the slave power, was totally unpre- pared. Thank God, it is so no longer. The free North is pouring down its sons by hundreds of thousands — in no war to abolish slavery, it is true, but none the less to insure its doom. Had the South remained loyal, slavery would still have been protected. It is now too late. And if our gov- ernment be wise, besides its immense armies, in the fear of the Southern heart John Brown's ghost is worth a hundred thousand men. 36 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. CHAPTER 11. TO Conrad's ferry and rettirn. Conrad's Ferry, Md., October 24, 1861. No longer at Darnestown, and no lo'nger writing of a fixed camp, and its routine of little details. It was on Monday evening last tliat orders came to the corps, suddenly, to cook two days' rations for haversacks, and three days' more for wagons ; it was intended, however, that we should not leave till morning. A few minutes more, and orders came to leave tents and wagons, and as speedily as possible be upon the road. It was then eight o'clock ; at half past eight our men were in column, with knapsacks packed and on their backs ; at half past three o'clock in the morning our regiment was at Conrad's Ferry, eighteen miles away ; and in a few minutes our pickets lined a mile of the Potomac, within musket shot, across the river, of the scene of the mournful, stupid Avaste of life, which has carried, on the wings of lightning, anguish to a multitude of Massachu- setts homes. Our orders were based upon the passage of the i-iver Avhich had that day taken place here. It was at first supposed that the movement had been successful at Conrad's Ferry, as well as at Edwards's Ferry, four mUes below ; and General Banks's division was sent on to support the movement into Virginia. BALL'S BLUFF. 37 It was true that General Stone had succeeded in throwing over several thousand at the lower crossing. But how dis- astrous the result was at the upper, you too well know. It was this Avhich hastened our march to the then entirely de- fenceless spot commanded by an exultant enemy. Two or three regiments only went to Conrad'fe Ferry ; most of the corps was sent to Edwards's Ferry. Our men did not know whither they were bound, nor why — except that it was to the enemy's' country. Never were they more happy. They took the road with songs, no in- strumental music being now allowed on march. The weight of their heavy loads was unfelt. They needed but little pause for rest. The hope of meeting the foe was their life. Our drill, our equipments, our men and officers — too long had it been felt that these were idle, while raw militia had been sent to spots they could never hold against the keen enemy we were to deal with. But our men were doomed to disappointment. Worse — they went only to meet the shat- tered remnants of broken regiments. Before we had been ordered to start, the battle had ended in defeat. It was at Poolsville that tlie first news met us of the de- feat. There was the camp of the Fifteenth Massachusetts, and there some of its sentries informed us of the result. All along the road from that point we met fugitives straggling back to their camp. By the road were many men utterly worn down with fatigue, sleeping on the ground ; and now and then were groups around a fire hastily built on the road- side, dejected, but still burning with a desire for a new strug- gle. Many were but half clothed ; some mthout even trousers or shoes ; some wrapped only in blankets. We learned from them little more than that the river had been crossed, and that the gallant Fifteenth had been shattered 4 38 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. almost to atoms. They did not know the circumstances nor extent of the loss. The morning dawned, but the sun was invisible. "With the gray of the early hours came down a steady, drizzling shower, deepening into a pouring rain, which. hasted for most of the day. Our quartermaster had moved his train a\ ith wonderful ease and despatch, and at about six o'clock it ar- rived, enabling our men to secure a rude but substantial breakfast ; and in the course of the morning we Avent into camp. We found everything in mourning. There was no sun- shine. Nearly opposite was plainly visible the spot Avhere our gallant fellow-soldiers had been led to slaughter. The howitzers Avhich the enemy had captured were mounted in sight. Between us and the opposite shore was Harrison's Island, over which the advance had been made, and from it were coming the dead and woimded — the results of the bat- tle. In that island hospital strong and true men Avere dying, and many were suffering agonies. But the hardest feeling to bear AA^as, that these lives had been Avickedly throAvn aAvay on a useless, foolishly planned, foolishly executed expedition. In a house on the Maryland shore Avere others dying, — and the dead Avere buried near, — a house in AA^hich the holes still remained, Avhich, at a former day, the enemy's balls had cut, and where their shells had exploded. Of this affair a multitude of reporters haA-e already gathered probably every incident, and they are spread before you. Of its general character, perhaps I should give some account, as received from men Avho Avere in the action. The expedition toward Leesburg aa^is commanded by Col- onel Baker, a United States senator from Oregon, as acting BALL'S BLUFF. 39 brigadier. He had at the Ferry his own regiment (the First California), the Fifteenth, Nineteenth, and Twentieth Mas- sachusetts, and the Tammany (New York) regiments. A scouting party of the Fifteenth had been sent over the night before. Returning, it reported that there was a small camp of the enemy not far from Leesburg. Before daylight of Monday, Colonel Devens (in command) , with four companies of his regiment (the Fifteenth), and one hundred men of the Twentieth Massachusetts ( Colonel Lee accompanying) , had reached the Virginia shore, sent over by order of Gen- eral Stone to destroy the reported camp. He had commenced crossing about midnight. The crossing took place over the island, which had been occupied, and somewhat foi'tifled, a* an earlier day, and which is about one hundred and twenty- five yards from the Virginia shore, and four hundred and fifty from the Maryland. The only means of transportation to the hostile side of the river consisted of a small boat, which would carry about twenty, and a scow, on which perhaps seventy men could be crowded, but old and leaky, as the final catastrophe most sadly proved. At one time in the afternoon this boat was pulled across by a rope made up from pieces taken from canal boats ; but the service answei'ed only a very brief time. The Virginia shore is a bluff, said to be (and apparently correctly) about sixty feet high. Up this height our men climbed, and on the bluff" remained Colonel Lee, with his men, while Colonel Devens advanced towards Leesburg, which is some four miles distant. The reported camp proved to exist only in imagination ; openings in a row of trees had been mistaken in the night for tents. The force proceeded with care, reconnoitring the ground. At about eight A. M. the enemy were observed, and soon fighting commenced. 40 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. After driving the enemy, it seemed best to fall back to the bluff, as the rebels were evidently increasing. Colonel De-veus afterward returned to his former advanced position. Here, about noon or a little later, the enemy at- tacked. After a short affair, it seemed prudent to return to the bluff, from fear of being cut off. At about twelve o'clock, Colonel Baker^ the acting briga- dier in command, had begun to send over reenforcements ; about half past one he crossed himself. The First California went over entire, as rapidly as the poor means of transporta- tion allowed. Three companies of the Tammany (New York) regiment, with Colonel Cogswell, and more of the Twentieth ^Massachusetts, also crossed. As the reenforcements reached the gallant Fifteenth, they found them little beyond the river. I have said akeady that the bank was over sixty feet high. ClimbiQg to the summit, they found a track about seventy feet in width, exceedingly broken, and curved, Avith rocks, bushes, and logs — impassable, indeed, for a horse. Beyond this was an open place, almost a lawn, about three lumdred feet wide by four hundred and fifty yards long, — the length being towards Leesburg. Hei'e the battle was resumed with great energy. At three P. M. the firing was very brisk, and for the next hour it was ex- ceedingly furious on both sides. An order for artillery had been sent immediately after the first reenforcements arrived, — the enemy all the time rapidly increasing. Two howitzers (regulars) Avere sent over Avith great difficulty, and about a quarter past four, Lieutenant Bramhall, of a battery attached to the New York Ninth, Avith a rifled cannon, a six pounder. Those guns had to be carried to the soutliAvard of the high bluff and rugged track, to reach the open scene. As the forces were then placed, our troops Avere on that side of the BALL'S BLUFF. 41 open field which was neurcst the river, the right and left wiug a little advanced, so as to form a concave front towards the enemy, but in a corner of the bushes ; a howitzer was at each extremity, and Lieutenant Bramhall's gun a little in advance of the centre, on slightly elevated ground. The enemy Avere also under cover of the Avoods, their sharpshooters in trees for more deadly aim, and rarely coming into sight for a large part of the fight. Our men had skirmishers on both flanks, in the woods, where much fighting took place. For several lioiu's it was severe. The enemy fired in heavy volleys, as if a regiment Avere shooting at once. " The bullets fell like hail," says an officer, Avho, though fighting Avith the greatest bravery, strangely escaped uninjured. The enemy had no cannon, but their force was not less, it now appears, than five or six thousand, to w'hicli our forces had but about six- teen hundred in opposition. Our men fought Avith the utmost braveiy, but they Averc gradually overpowered by numbers. About three o'clock Colonel Baker Avas killed. " Had I tAA^o more Massachusetts regiments," said he, a few minutes before he was shot, " I could beat them yet." Colonel CogSAvell, of the Tammany, took command. The fight still continued, but in A'ain. It AA^as at last determined to attempt a movement toAA^ards Ed- Avards's Ferry. The formation of the troops Avas commenced Avith that AdeAv, and partially executed, Avhen a dash of the Tammany companies (draAvn out by an ofiicer avIio suddenly appeared in front and called them on) into the open space Avas met by such a murderous fire as to throw everything into confusion. Our troops then descended the bluff, and formed on the plateau beloAv. Resistance was still made, but in vain. Our men took to the water. Many Avere droAvned. Many Avere shot in the water. The boats had both been sunk entire, 4 * 42 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. with their loads, and no transportation remained. Unfor- tunately, no olTicer had been left in charge of the boats. Half of our trooj^s were killed, wounded, or missing. The policy of the enemy w^as to w^orry our men for the day, and then to throw a heavy body of reserve upon our exhausted soldiers ; and it succeeded perfectly. The sadness of the results is equalled only by the stupidity of the plan. The ci-ossing at this bluff — w^hile half a mile distant was an open and level shore, — the criminal neglect to provide proper transportation over and to secure a possible retreat, and the uselessness of the enterprise, deserve rigid examination. The next day General McClellan came. The troops across at Edwards's Ferry were ordered back. What plans that general has, nobody knows. Whether he directed the recent movement, we have yet to learn. But he expresses his sur- prise at the method in which it was carried out. His pres- ence, of course, superseded General Banks, as that general superseded General Stone. Last evening we had an order to move to Edwards's Ferry. " The enemy threaten us in force," was the order ; " send two of your regiments, especially the Second Massachusetts." We marched six miles, and then were sent back, the emergency having passed. And we are still in camp. MiTDDT Branch Camp, Md., October 31, 1861. No more " near Darnestown." No more of that hard- trodden field where our camp lay ; nor that road by its side, with multitude of pedlers. We have been to Harrison Islaiid, and in sight of Ball's Bluff, which rested as quiet and silently as though blood had not dyed its soil. We have A QUIET CAMP. 43 couutermarclied, aud our division is near the Potomac, below General Stone's command, and near Darnestown as a. fact, bvxt not as a date. "\Ve now are in a quiet, pleasant field, away from the road, which itself is away from the main road. The '•field and staff" have pitched their tents in the edge of a Avood, and as I sit at the '' door of my tent," the shade of oak and walnut is pleasant, this beautiful " fall " day. A little fire is burning a few feet before me, and the smoke curls up lazily in the sunshine. The air has the lovely, dreamy haze of autumn. The trees are gently shaking off the ripe leaves. The hum of insects is not yet ended. Near are the strokes of our woodcutters' axes. Farther off is the murmur of a rapid and a steep waterfall. The season is " Like an emperor triumphing With gorgeous robes of Tyrian dyes — Full flush of fragrant blossoming, And glowing purple canopies." Our men do duty where " The wide, clear waters sleeping lie Beneath the evening's wings of gold, And on their glassy Jreast of sky And banks their mingled hues unfold." It is a " muster day," and drill is omitted, and music silent. It is a day to dream of home ! Home ! Thanks for a home, Avhither the needle points steadily. And prayers for one sad man to whom yesterday's letter said his home was broken ; his wife had left this world, and so left her four now mother- less children, with no relative this side of the Atlantic save their father, and he bound by his oath to his country. But to another topic. I know that my handwriting is iTsually blind. Friends insist that it is undoubtedly an imitation of Greek. It was 44 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. the fatliei' of Dr. Chalmers (was it uot?) who saved his son's letters for the doctor to read at his semi-annual visit, I have suffered maledictions from compositors, I know. Once I determined to prove that I could write legibly ; and I wrote an article in the old-fashioned, round BostonJiand, which Avas a marvel of clearness and beauty. Compositors were de- lighted. Alas ! it Avas like the century plant ; one bloom exhausted my powers, and I have never written a decent hand since. It is not strange, therefore, that I am quoted as saying, " Ave have been in no enemy's country," when I really said, " we have been in an enemy's country." Small errors I pass by ; this I correct because of its involving a mournful truth. We have been in an enemy's coimtry. Sent into Central Virginia, a continuation of the beautiful Cumberland valley, the central of the three parts into which mountain ranges divide Virginia, — a medium as to slaA^e population, betAveen the eastern and Avestern poi'tions, — midway betAA^een a loyal and a rebellious section, — Ave found it as alien from the government as any foreign p«Aver, and as hostile as the bit- terest war could render it. I see much in Noi'thern papers about freeing the Union sentiment, aAvaking loyalty, and the like. But I did not see such sentiment in Central Virginia, Avhere it ought, aboA^e all places on rebel soil, to have been exhibited. Nor do I see much of it in Maryland, Avhere it ought to be predominant. Confining myself to Central Virginia, I do not believe Ave met, outside of Harper's Ferry, half a dozen reliable Union men. The people Avere Avilling to buy and sell, and they could teach Yankees lessons in sharpness. But as to any open, ingenuous loyalty to the Constitution, it Avas almost unknoAvn. LOYALTY RARE. 45 At best they were sullenly quiet, but by no means hearty. Sometimes they were outspoken. One good lady expressed to me the hope that every Northern soldier would be killed. At Middleway the stars and stripes were greeted with the ugliest of expressions, and " The Star-spangled Banner " and " Hail, Columbia," with which our band endeavored to edify them, met with disgust. At Charlestown every shop was closed as Ave entered, save one ; and the occupant of that, though displaying a Union flag, proved the meanest rebel of all. Nor has there been a single place where a little stay did not enable us to learn that the bulk of the inhabitants were in favor of the Southern Confederacy, except Harper's. Ferry, which, from its industrial pursuits, had a population entirely different from that of slaveholding places generally. There, was a large mechanical population once employed in government workshops. They had earned some money by hard labor and good wages. They had bought of government neat homes at a low price, paying by instalments for the last four years. They had helped build good churches, and had established public and Sabbath schools. In front of most houses is a little piece of ground, and formerly there were a few flowers — a rare sight in this part of the country. Such a population, though not particularly anti-slavery, was, and principally is, for the Union. Now the churches are mainly shut up. The schools are abandoned. The sidewalks and streets are rough and ragged. Many houses are deserted. Property, often their little all, is valueless. Their incomes are destroyed with the destruction of the government shops. Some of the workmen were persuaded to carry their knowl- edge and experience to Richmond or to North Carolina, and most of the true men are left totally destitute. Government will probably never restore the ruined buildings, and Harper's AG THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. Ferry is ruined. Still, many men there are faithful to their country, in spite of all inducements to treason. There is no mistaking the general feelings of a people. This people regarded us as invaders. Most of them have no loyalty to be awakened. I write this with a little doubt as to the propriety of uprooting this convenient stepping-stone, on which I myself travelled into a clearer path. But that it is the fact, I am persuaded by an observation of nearly four months in localities which must be far in advance of Southern States in loyalty ; and I except only occasional places. That there will be apparent loyalty as our armies advance, is doubtless true ; but it will be based on self-interest, not love, nor to be trusted as anything else than a convenient instrument. This state of things arises fi'om two facts : — First, there is an " irrepressible conflict" between freedom and slavery. Free labor and slave cannot flourish together. Where industry is considered menial, it loses its vitality. Whites -despise it, and become, if poor, meaner than the meanest of negroes ; " poor white trash" is their legitimate title. BetAveen, therefore, the two kinds of labor, the sympa- thy of those who have the power is entirely with the South. Not because slave labor here is profitable ; it is not profita- ble ; there are not slaves enough, nor the kind of work, to make it pay, while there are just enough to make their mas- ters lazy. And from the latter fact is their liking for South- ern institutions. While, further, there is the deeper feeling that the North despises and dislikes slavery on conscientious principles, which principles the o^vner of one slave feels the burden of as well as the owner of a thousand — a small slave- holder in Virginia as well as the plantation owner in South Carolina. Out of such companionship as that of freedom- loving Northerners, these people ai'e anxious to get. SUBJUGATION. 47 The second fact is, that the Southern feeling is, and always has been, that of scorn for " Yankees," as they call all North- erners. Most Southerners have carried with them the manners of the plantation, and have always looked down upon the indus- trious North. They are afraid of Northern thrift and enter- prise, while they assume to be a superior race. They dislike its democracy, and prefer the aristocracy of the South — to be tyrannical, if of the favored class ; to favni, if they are inferiors. All really slaveholdiug States must gravitate to- Avards the South. That the rebels must be " conquered," " subjugated," or whatever you please to call it, admits of no question. Our country's coasts, its rivers, its mines, its roads, its telegraphs, demand that it be one. The success of self-government re- quires it. But how to succeed is the question. That our armies will eventually triumph, is sure, in the fact that Southerners never dare meet an equal force of Northerners in the field. "When we have officers, we shall conquer. But what to do then? Is any compromise possible to satisfy them. None. To restore the South to its old status, would only restore the old conflicts, more embittered than ever, to our public halls, with the old braggarts, the old liars and thieves, for more haughty boasting, more impudent lies, more successful thefts. Nothing is settled till it is settled right. But when the South is conquered, it must be held. And that will require a social revolution at the South. Not a mere emancipation of slaves, but a change in the ownership of property. The property holders will always be the domi- nant class in reality. Introduce a loyal race of property holders, and loyal men of industry, and the problem is worked out. "Wliile you are discussing the Fremont pi-ocla- 48 THE POTOMAC AND THE IIAPIDAN. mation, you forget that the simplest way of proceeding is for the Congress soon to assemble, to pass a confiscation act, by which every man committing a single overt act of rebellion shall forfeit his property. For this the army aches. They see rebels protected, their houses guarded, their property sentinelled. They see disloyal men " conciliated," even though soldiers should suffer. What think you of taking particular pains to restore slaves claimed specially on the ground that, as the whites of the family were all absent, the blacks were indispensable for gathering the crops, while those very whites were officers in the rebel army at Manassas ? That was what we did at Harper's Ferry. Or of restoring houses taken for public use, and receipted for, on the same plea of crops, while the proceeds of those crops were to help support Southern soldiers ? That we did in the Shenandoah. What think you of Union men being left without work, while notorious secessionists were hired in rebuilding bridges and the like ? Just that was done at the Potomac. Where the policy originated, I do not know ; but such things happened in the column of the famous general now returned to private life, until the spirit seemed to be that of the " reward and forgetfulness act" of Charles II., which he carried out by forgetting his friends and rewarding his enemies. Such a policy will never succeed. It conciliates no rebels ; it disgusts friends. Yet, if "general emancipation" were now made the object of this war, I fully believe that our armies would melt away. Our men are fighting for the flag, not for the abolition of slavery. So for as the army feels, .slavery is not a prominent theme or thought. The suprem- acy of law, and the honor of the stars and stripes — these are the soldiei''s principles. General emancipation Avould add untold horrors to what already has horrors enough — WAR ; confiscXtion. 49 such horrors as the nobility of a true and gallant soldier has no desire to witness ; and would violate constitutional prin- ciples, beyond which our armies would be palsied. At the same time, if there is any work which our soldiers loathe, it is the returning of fugitive slaves. They despise it, and they are despised for it by the chuckling scoundrels who claim tine " guarantees" of the constitution which they have deliberately thrown off. But they are not fighting for " abo- lition." * But if you confiscate the property of rebels, you have the means to pour in a new population. At the end of this war there Avill be hundreds of thousands of young men ready to take and hold, with an arm used to the rifle, such pi'operties. There are plenty of stalwart mechanics who could and would redeem this Southern soil from the blight with which South- ern shiftlessness has cursed it. Of its Harper's Ferries, with magnificent Avater poAvers, Avith their vicinity to the land of cotton, Avith all needed avenues to the sea, Northei*n skill would make ncAv LoAvells and LaAvrences. These houses of half log, half mud, Avould give place to Ncav England vil- lages. The church and the school-house Avould renovate the character of the population, and the iron hand of Northern power Avould rule Avith a strength against which Southern impetuousness Avould struggle in vain, as Southerners have ahvays been poAverless, the Avorld over, against Northern steel. Slavery itself would vanish before such a resistless power as free labor, enlightened by a free conscience ; and the blacks, thus freed, Avould become supporters to a system of national industry. The noAV dominant class, once poor, * I was right then, but I should not be right to use the same language now. The feelings of the army have gradually and totally changed. Few soldiers of any rank now but detest slavery, and mean to fight it. .5 50 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. would lose their pride with their power, and a new race of men would come into being. Strike, then, for a Confiscation Act ; and do not divide the North and weaken our armies by impracticable propositions of unconstitutional measures. Near Seneca, Md., November 15, 1861. The news which delights our minds is doubtless the same as with you — the successful attack at Port Royal. We are far more tranquil than you are in regard to news ; less ex- citable, less worried. We are away from the sensation de- spatches appearing hour after hour on the bulletin-boards, where one statement is contradicted by the next. A news- paper, with us, is a precious article. A Baltimore daily, which I succeeded in picking up yesterday, passed through a multitude of hands, until pretty thoroughly used up. It re- joiced our hearts with the official account of the success on South Carolina soil. By the way, what a ridiculous mass of blunders are heaped up in the columns of various dailies ! The errors which a mere lack of care allows are sometimes inexcusable. Thus Harper's Weekly points a moral from the defeat at " EdAA'ards's Ferry," whereas at that place there was no battle. " Right wing" and "left Aving " are huddled up in inextricable con- fusion. You .should note that Colonel Baker's force was the " right Aving " of the entire movement, covering the extremities of three miles ; Avhile Colonel Baker's force had itself a right and left, covering but a feAV hundred feet. One Boston daily rightly takes somebody to task for calling General McClel- lan " Commander-in-Chief," and then announces that his HEALTH. 51 true title is " Lieutenant-General," — which is, really, a grade created by special act of Congress for General Scott, and, by that very act, will cease to exist when General Scott ceases to bear the title. But some of the pictorials are the richest in ability. The places they portray are frequently beyond recognition. A picture of the burning of the arsenals at Hai'per's Ferry, which I chanced to take up a few days ago, amused me somewhat, from the fact that the only two buildings which it represents as burning, are the only two there which bear no mark of fire ! There have been no marked changes in this vicinity since the Ball's Bluff affair, and the consequent immediate move- ment of troops. Between Washington and Muddy Branch, there are few troops this side of the river, but the Virginia side is occupied. General Banks's division lies at Muddy Branch and Seneca, on the Maryland side. General Stone is next above, covering the river nearly to a point opposite Leesburg ; and various parts of these divisions are stationed at the Point of Rocks, Sandy Hook, and Williamsjiort. Our own regiment has moved its camp a fourth of a mile, to secure a healthier location. The former site was a clayey soil, hard to dry after a rain. In fact, the ground Avas never really dry after the first day or two of our camping, and the residt has been seen in the poorer condition of a generally healthy regiment. The few days which have elapsed since our change show, ah-eady, a marked improvement. Our present camp is on high ground, and overlooks the Potomac, visible less than half a mile distant. The health of most of the regiments in this division is good, but reports of visitors to some regiments on the -Alexandria side of the Potomac represent an unfortunate state of things. It is impossible to keep health good on low gi-ound near this beautiful but 52 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. deadly river. The miasma is terrible. Old resideuts shun it as much as possible, and those who cannot do so are a lank, sickly, cadaverous race ; and, so far as I can judge, the character of most of them answers to their looks. The matter of health has always been attended to in our regiment. In reading an article in the Atlantic for Novem- ber, I noticed that every valuable suggestion therein made, has always been observed in the Second Massachusetts. The "■ Sanitary Commission " was an organization of supereroga- tion for us — a proof of the value of having experienced army officers in charge of affairs. Nor can too much atten- tion be devoted to the health of soldiers. A sickly army cannot fight Avell ; nor is it fair to men who have left their homes for their country's Avelfare, that they should be need- lessly exposed to disease. The measures taken against disease are of tAvo kinds, namely, — the hygienic arrangements of camp, and the medical means of cure of sickness. The first are of the greatest importance. In selecting a site for a camp, one is sought for which is dry in its chai'acter, — elevated, but not ■too bleak, — gently sloping, to prevent stagnant water from rains, — open to the sun, and airy, but shielded somewhat from winds and storms, if possible. The first Avork, after the places for our tents is selected is to sweep and otherwise clean the ground thoroughly. The whole camp ground is carefully swept every day by a force specially detailed, till not even a chip remains. No impurities are allowed near the camp. At the kitchen fires, in front of the company tents, deep holes are dug, in which the offal from cooking is thrown, and every day a layer o/ earth is thrown in. The tents themselves are struck not infrequently in warm, sunny days (if the camping remains long in one spot), and THE MEDICAL SYSTEM. 53 the sites are dried. If there is straw in the tents, it is re- quired to be thoroughly dried at frequent intervals. The Sibley tents, Avhich our men use, are well ventilated at the top, by a liole coverable at pleasui'e. Regulations allow unwholesome food to be condemned, and new and good de- manded. To insure the care of the camp in regard to order and cleanliness, an " officer of police" is daily appointed. The arrangements for the sick are under the direction of the surgeon, who has also an assistant, both regularly'>edu- cated physicians. Every morning, any man taken sick re- ports to the first sergeant of his company, who enrolls his name in a company book kept for the purpose. Shortly after breakfast, tlie drum and fife give the " sick call," when those of the sick who are able, go to the surgeon, who prescribes as needed. If but little indisposed, the sick man returns to his tent, excused from duty, — the medicine allowed being furnished in the course of the morning by the " hospital steward," who attends to the preparation of prescriptions. If too ill to render it prudent for the patient to remain " in cpiarters," he is sent by the surgeon to the hospital of the regiment. If one newly reported sick is not able to attend the " sick call," the surgeon or assistant visits him at his tent, and directs his removal if necessary. Our hospital con- sists of two tents of thick canvas, each about twenty-five by fourteen feet in size. Each will accommodate easily ten patients, and is supplied with bedsteads, straw beds, &c. The " hospital steward" has general charge of the hospital, and specially attends to the preparations and administering of medicines, &c. A " ward master" has charge of beds, bed- ding, cleanliness, food, &c., and has several " nurses," — of which the allowance is one to ten patients. Two cooks pre- pare the necessary food. Other assistants attend to trauspor- 54 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. tation and the like. If a man is likely to be long sick, as when a broken limb is to be healed, or he has some chronic disease, he is sent to a " general hospital," — ours being at Baltimore, in the old " National House ; " as the necessity of movements by a regiment render it undesii-ablc to have men in its local hospital, to whom a movement might be disastrous. When men shall be discharged from hospital is under the control of the surgeon, — as, indeed, are all matters relative to disease. There is but one head, — which makes the ex- cellence of army discipline. Medicines and instnunents are furnished by government, freely and according to the expe- rience of years. The above are the arrangements in camp. For the sad effects of battle-fields, ambulances and stretchers are ready, and attendants detailed, — that none of our brave men shall suffer more than is indispensable. I write of this topic because so many hearts at home are anxious, and such details may interest them ; and to assure them that, while nothing is a substitute for home^ with its warm hearts and gentle hands, yet everything is done which can be done to ligliten the burden of disease. Our surgeons spare no labor, night or day ; and our colonel is a frequent visitor among the sick ; our hospital steward is a most skil- ful worker in medicine ; our ward master is kind-hearted and unwearied ; our hospital cooks are experienced. Yet, in spite of all human skill and care, death cannot be excluded here, but will enter our canvas doors, as he glides into the houses of wood and stone at home, at will, or rather at our Fa- ther's will — before which who of us has notbeen made to weep ? Two of our number here have lately died, both stricken with disease in great severity, and both delirious from the hour of their entrance into the hospital — so delirious that MARRIAGE AND BAPTISM. 55 neither coiiltl converse. What preparation they had made for the future must have been made before they lay on a sick bed. We committed them to God, who is rich in mercy, for the great love wherewith he loved us. Near Frederick, Md., December 19, 1861. I wnOTE you of our march from Seneca, or " near Darnes- town." But I cannot leave Darnestown without a parting salutation. There our regiment spent more than two months, varied only by a location in three ditfei'ent places, and by a hasty march to the mournful Conrad's Ferry. There we made acquaintances, and, what interested me more, I had some clerical duties to perform not usually falling to the lot of chaplains in marching regiments, viz. : I married one couple, and I baptized two children. The bridegroom was one of our own men. The children were in two families at Seneca. Both kinds of service were perfoi'med with great satisfaction — especially the latter ; the latter especially (call it not selfish) that it was a luxury to see a helpless little babe. To hear one cry, even, is a comfort to one deprived of the privilege he had at home. I wonder I was ever impatient at it. I mourn over former hard-heartedness. I warn every father against recklessness in this particular. I beg my ministerial brethren especially to guard against any possible fretfulness on this account, even though it be Saturday evening, and to-morrow's sermon yet remains a " skeleton." Do not say to faithful mother or careful nurse, " Why don't you hush that baby ? " Soberly now : thank God there is one to hush. Take it in your arms, and let its head rest trustingly on your shoulder, O strong man, and so learn yourself how to rest as confidingly 5G THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. on God's strong arm and loving heart. " For as a father pitietli his children, so the Lord pitietli them that put their trust in him." If that little one leave you, you Avill be sad for many a year, believe me, over every impatient and stern word, though those words were only the rippfes on the surface of your tide of love. But about leaving Darnestown. First of all, spell it with an e. Mr. Darne, whose father's name and residence gave title to the place, spells it with an e. In ingenuity of nomenclature, they seldom rise, in these parts, above attaching some termination to the name of a prominent resident. Thus came Harper's Ferry, Clarks-burg, Hyatts- town, Pools-ville, Buckey-town. DarnestOAvn itself is a little village on the road from Washington to Poolsville, which runs almost as parallel with the Potomac as the crooked char- acter of that river allows, and about twenty-five miles from Washington. Most of its houses are of the log-and-mud style. It boasts no hotel, though some hospitable people would afford entertainment for man and beast. It had three " country " stores, where hardware, dry goods, groceries, boots and shoes, quack medicines, and whiskey were sold in rather small quantities — barring the Avhiskey as to the small. There was a blacksmith's shop, but no shoemaker's. A post-office was in one of the stores, and before our advent a stage-coach passed up throvigh one day and down through the next. The few houses of more than usual pretension would hardly pass muster in a New England village, and the poorer ones were sadly dilapidated. " These buildings seem out of repair," it was said one day to a native. " Wal, yes," was the I'eply. ".Why don't, the people repair them?" " Wal, we kinder take things easy, and when they tumble down we build up new ones " — a work which several save indications of soon DARNESTOWN AWAKE. 57 needing. Two or three houses were enclosed with fences, and had a few flowers in front ; but as a whole, the village of one street was of the Rip Van Winkle order, where you would, and will, see black women cutting fire-wood before the door, while a Avhite man sits on the door-step smoking his pipe, and the pigs enjoying the free use of the road, too lazy to move out of the way of the infrequent traveller. But Darnestown woke up one day. A division of the army grouped itself on either side. The pigs and the wood- cutting went on the same, but sentries at the doors of the shops interfered sadly with the sale of whiskey. Along the street was run a telegraph wire, and up a rickety staircase was a telegraph office. Coaches ran every day. Soldiers lounged about. Regiments moved up and down. Orderlies cantered up and down at all hours. Trade inflated. The at first bewildered traders increased their stock of goods. Pedlers came. Daguerreotype artists extemporized small buildings. From a gimlet to a pair of boots (marked Claf- lin, Boston), whatever you wanted was of Yankee make, save the execrable pies which flooded the country — unmistakably Darnestown. Darnestown went to making money with more than Yankee shrewdness, and Darnestown was Union — when the army came. Of schools : there was one little building, but the fright- ened schoolma'am vanished, and the school-house became a pedler's shop. The principal school was at Rockville, ten miles off. I asked one man, a magistrate a mile away, Avhat a little building in his yard was erected for. " The front room for a store, the back for a school-room." Then he and a neighbor discussed the several teachers. One, in particular, they agreed upon as an excellent teacher, a thor- ough teacher. They paid him three dollars and a half 58 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. per quarter for each scholar. " But Ave liad to give him up," said the owner : " he got tlic childrou along as far as he could go, but he had never learned the higher branches, such as grammar and geography, and we had to let him go." In one house of a family of pretension only "four books were discernible — a Bible, a Prayer-book, a catalogue of some school, and some work of fiction whose name I now forget. There are two churches at Darnestown, at opposite ex- tremities of the village ; or rather one is a little out of the village. One is Old School Presbyterian ; the other. Baptist. The meeting-house of the latter is log-and-mud, and open to the roof. It has, of course, a negro gallery, entirely separating the black from the white Christians, and reached by a staircase built outside. It is very comforting to know that, by this arrangement, there is no possible danger of contamination. The Presbyterian church is quite a handsome building, framed, boarded, and painted a neutral tint. Its gallery is reached by a staircase inside ; and the basement has, I think, been sometimes used as a school-room. Neither church had preaching every Sabbath. The Baptist was open about once a mouth ; the Presbyte- rian, once in tw^o weeks. Neither of the preachers was a resident, I believe, and they divided their time between this place and Rockville, which is a much larger town. The Baptist church became a station for pickets, and on Mon- days for a chaplains' meeting, and, subsequently, was turned into a hospital. When I saw it last, a battery was exercising by its side. The Presbyterians, with an attend- ance largely increased by soldiers, came to have public wor- ship every Sabbath. As our services were then in the afternoon, I have had occasional opportunity to worship mornings Avith other con- DARNESTOWN CHURCHES. 59 gregations. I did so there, at a distance from camp of several miles each way. The first time I attended the Pres- byterian chm*ch, at the hour appointed for public worship, a prayer-meeting was in progress. Some resident brother conducted the services, and " deaconed off" the hymns, which, though an old New England custom, was new to me. The same brother led the singing, which I should have enjoyed, had he not invariably pronounced the first syllable of each line as " nah." Chaplains were the princi- pal supporters of the meeting. This meeting ended, the minister entered the pulpit, and, assisted by a Presbyterian chaplain, held divine service. The text of his sermon was, " Israel doth not know, my people do not consider," which he applied to the impenitent. Barring the misapplication of the text, Ixe made a forcible and truthful exhibition of a different topic. The sermon was well Avritten, and thor- oughly Calvinistic. His tone was severe, Presbyterianly severe, in which he evidently did injustice to his nature. From his general style, I judged him to be liberally edu- cated, but not remarkably patriotic. His Avhole sermon was directed by eye and gesture to a small boy in a far corner of the church. I pitied that boy. The soldiers listened with attention and respect. Here officers and men met on a level. Here all arms of the ser- vice Avere blended. The sober army blue of our Massachu- setts men contrasted with the gayer trappings of Ncav York. The light-blue stripe of infantry sat by the scarlet of artillery and the yelloAV stripe and spurs of cavalry. Here the plain dress of priA^ate mingled Avith the chcATons of the corporal and sergeant, nor Avas repelled by the epaulets or shoulder- straps of captains or colonels. And occasionally might be seen the buff sash, and the tA\"o stars glistening in silence on GO THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. the shoulder of the firmly-knit, keen-eyed, resolute major- general. Tlie rank was outside. Beneath were men, each under the same law, invited by the same gospel. Beneath, too, were Christians. In witnessing a division review, I have thought how infantry, artillery, cavalry, engineers, though distinct in dress, and arms, and drill, are yet animated by one principle : the infantry may have the Enfield rifle or the Springfield, the smooth bore or the altered lock, and yet do service in harmony ; even every regiment has its two flags, one its State banner, with its own name thereon, the other, loftier, the stars and stripes ; and yet all form one army, whose great centre of fealty is the flag. So all Clu-istians, though equipped differently, mayhap, and marching to a special flag of their oa\ti, yet bear above that the banner of the cross, and form a great unit, acknowledging allegiance to the one gi'eat Captain, Jesus Christ. How paltry are all quarrelings among Christians as to what arm of the service one belongs, or what dress he wears. The Banner, th6 Great Banner ! The Captain, the Great Captain ! In the rear of this church is a burial-grovmd, the one most used. Not many graves were there till we came ; but there used to grow larger ever-y week a row of single graves placed side by side. They are the graves of soldiers. And here, on many a day, the village people used to stroll along as the muffled drum passed by, and curiously, yet sympathizingly. see the burial, and hear the three volleys over the open grave, and wonder where his home had been, and whether he had a mother. And they were often kind to our poor sick sol- diers, for which the blessing of our Lord be upon them ! There were good Christians there, too. I made some friendships, though they were not with any of the high in their own estimation, but with the more humble. Those of DARNESTOWN PEOPLE. 61 self-importance were generally secessionists. In some fami- lies were many religious books ; and I respect one good man, Avho came to our regiment with tracts, only to find more tliere than he probably ever saw before. The family where I bap- tized the one child was Union. I hope to see yet, in future years, that little one, who knew, or seemed to know, when my hand held her, and always smiled when I took her. That family was sorry that we must leave. They said that with other regiments near them before, they had been in constant fear, and constantly suffering loss. But the Second Massa- chusetts had been oi'derly, courteous, and kind, and had been a protection. The reason Avas, we have Men, and we have Officers. Many other regiments have one, but not both. The other child I shall never see on earth. He has al- ready gone. " And we know — for God hath told us this — That he is now at rest, Where other blessed children are, On the Saviour's loving breast." 62 THE POTOMAC AND THE EAPIDAN. CHAPTER III. LIFE NEAR FREDERICK TOWN. Camp Hicks, near Frederick, Md., December 13, 1861. The change in our situation since I wrote last is delight- ful. Moving hither frona " Seneca Creek," or " Muddy Branch," or " Near Darnestown," we came out of the ma- laria of the Potomac into pure country air ; out of a shelter- less, dismal field, into a pleasant grove, gently sloping to the south, where the warm sun lies beautifully down ; and out of barbarism into civilization. "We hear, by night, the hours struck. We hear the whistle of the locomotive near us, and think how, though five hundred miles from home, that power would take us there in twenty-foiu' hours. "We hear, on the Sabbath, the " church-going bell." How pleasantly its music rolls over the intervening three miles and a half, after our nearly six months' deprival of such a sound ! We had had rumors of removal for several weeks ; but nobody paid any regard to them, until orders came to send aAvay the sick men of the division by canal. This was as certain a precursor of marching as though the orders Avere published. It was on Saturday that the first departure of the sick took place, near two weeks ago. They were to go to hospital at Alexandria, some twenty-five miles off. So our own sick REMOVAL OF SICK MEN. 63 men Avere sent down to the canal-lock, about a mile from us, there to join with tliose of other regiments. Special duty led me there, and we were at the lock about half an hour before noon. We had sent over twenty men, and from all the regi- ments there were between thirty and forty ambulance loads, carrying nearly two hundred. It was a bitterly cold day. The wind swept down the river valley bitingly. As the best to be done, we wheeled the ambulances round against the wind ; and waited — waited, till we were disgusted. It was shameless shiftlessness which forced these men to suffer. While awaiting the boat, we built a rousing good fire un- der the shelter of an abutment. When I was a boy I always was particular about the first use of a ncAv knife, and I had frequent occasions to try new ones, inasmuch as I lost so many that my indulgent father used to joke me with the statement, that if knives would sprout, our yard would be full of jack-knife trees. Well, I shall always entertain great regard for this knife (a capital one, just sent me by that same good father) from the fact that its christening took place in whittling. shavings to kindle that fire. For one side of that fire was a rock ; on the other we drove a crotched stick ; and across we put another stick, on which we hung a borrowed kettle, and in that kettle we boiled water, of which our hos- pital attendants made tea for the sick men, followed by good beef tea as food. Two things are to be noted about the fire, for the benefit of future laborers ; first, it takes one man ex- tra, with a dipper, to pvit out the fire on the cross stick, lest the kettle tumble into the fire ; and, secondly, it is not dis- creet to ask Avhere the Avood comes from ; the men's sickness must overrule — curiosity. But I confess that a rascally sutler objected to the sudden departure of pie-boxes, until I told the attendants to throw him into the canal if he did not hold his tongue. 64 niE POTOMAC AND THE HAPIDAN. We tried to keep up the men's spirits, and they did act nobly. The boat came, but entirely insufficient. Its floor was still wet, for the water had but just been pumped out. There could be no fii'e, and. there was no shelter ; and these men were to go down the canal in that cold night. Straw had been promised, but no straw came. So we took the stacks of corn stalks from a neighboring field, until sentries drove the men off from this property of noted rebels. The boat was loaded at last, too full. I was the last out, and found the advantage of a pair of stout arms, with which to pull myself up six or seven feet. The boat started with- its precious freight, and many hand-pressures and " God bless yous." There Avas not room for all, and quite a number remained for another day or so. Of those left behind, several were placed in the two houses snug by. Our surgeon and assistant surgeon took care of our own men and of some others ; found beds for them ; appointed nui'ses ; secured sentries ; pro- vided food, and furnished necessaries. One .poor fellow of another regiment excited my pity. He was sitting alone on a bench in a kind of entry, and leaning in the corner of the room. I spoke with him. He told me his regiment. He had been brought down there, placed in the corner, and, by some accident, left. The boat had gone without him. His knapsack had gone aboard. The persons in charge of him had gone back to camp. He had no food. He was conva- lescent from typhoid fever, but was entirely helpless from disease in the hip. Our assistant surgeon needed only the sight of him to provide for him, and the warm-hearted men of the Second were ready to take care of him. So they did of others, one of whom was too sick — a cavahy man — to be moved farther. REMOVAL OF SICK MEN. 65 On Monday the remainder were to go — by canal — np to the Point of Rocks on the Bahimore and Ohio Raih'oad, and thence to Frederick. So, Sunday evening I accom- panied the assistant sm-geon and ward master to the houses occupied by the sick. It Avas dark, and we picked our way by the light of a lantern, down through the ploughed fields, and over little brooks. At one house a sutler's establishment was open for trade ; but we were not in that line. Our sick men were doing Avell. In one room lay several of them, comfortably provided for — a low room, in a mean locality, and with beds upon the tloor, but still very comfortable, thanks to our medical and hospital men. And poor as was the place, and dim as its one candle left it, it was a spot where our Lord stood with us, and where, the hearts of the sick soldiers were refreshed. Even there were words of praise from spirits which had " peace and joy in believing " But the sick cavalry man had lost his senses. On Monday the second party from the division went. This time our assistant surgeon * had charge. The boat was ready at the time. The ambulance drivers reported to him, and he saw to the embarkation. He saw that nurses did their duty. It was by night they went ; but when morn- ing came, he roused up the attendants, and had Avarm relish- ing food provided. He drove away the Avhiskey-dealers at Point of Eocks, and though they had to wait there a Avhile, the train came at last, and carried them safely to a good hos- pital in Frederick. But one of our men (a mere boy rather) taken out of a hospital at DarnestOAvn, died the next day, and "Wisconsin men fired the volleys over his grave as they buried him. All the sick, save a fe^v to go Avith the regiments, were * It was Lincoln R. Stone, now surgeon of volunteers. 6* 66 THE POTOMAC AND THE KAPIDAN. thus carried away. Not all thus. When the last party started, the cavahy soldier was dead. On Tuesday our brigade started. The march was like all others, save that both days were very cold. The first day we went to Barnesville, a Maryland village of the genuine kind. Feeling Jlguralive, I counted the number of houses ; twenty-six, unless I mistook barns for houses, or houses for barns, in several intricate cases. We camped in a beautiful wood. It is strange how dreary a vpood or field looks in a cold day, as your regiment enters it, and how cheerful it becomes as tough arms raise the city of tents, and build huge roaring fires. So it was here. The next morn- ing reveille beat at a quarter past four. It was cold work to toss aside our blankets and leave our heaps of straw for the raw air. Great fires again thawed out the chill. Hunger vanished soon. You never appreciate coffee till you try it before daylight in camps of a cold morning, — after having attended to a moderate toilet by the light of a candle, for which a two-bladed knife furnishes a candlestick, one blade horizontal in a tree, and a smaller pointing up at right angles, with the candle stuck upon it. Probably you never yet have learned how good a dish is made of hard biscuit fried Avith salt pork ; though the flavor depends somewhat upon a hard march the day before, a raw morning, and before sunrise. Between six and seven we were moving again. Down came the tents as the final roll of the " general " beat ; into Avagons went tents and baggage. The line is formed among the trees. " Forward ! " And just as dawn was disclosing " Old Sugar Loaf," — the Kearsarge or Ascutney of this region, — the regiment plunged doAvn into the valley mists which wrapped its base. The road was beautiful ; only with cold fingers and feet it MARCHING INCIDENTS. 67 is hard to appreciate scenery. In summer it must be deliglit- ful : winding around the base of Sugar Loaf, over a spur of it, along by tossing brooks, foi'ding shallow streams, — it re- minded one of New England mountain scenery. The re- minder Avas not in customs nor idioms. Calling at a small house whose joint proprietors were doing a brisk business in coffee and jaies, and where I made acquaintance with four or five broad-faced, good-natured children, I was amvised to hear the father tell one to "go himt the branch." I ventured to inquire the meaning, and learned that " the branch " was the hrook, and " hunting" it meant to wash his face in it. I was equally interested in learning that the title of " Koot," which oue little girl bore, was intended as " the short" for " Margaret Adelaide," as the mother informed me, after asking the father what the child's name was. But the poor family — none of whose children go to school — is the first family on any road in Maryland, rich or poor, which I have knoAvn to decline receiving pay for a cup of coffee or other little luxury. Of course I felt obliged to leave a little token with " Koot." That day brought us to "near Frederick." That day? Four hours and a quarter took our regiment fifteen miles, the field officers marching on foot with their men the whole distance. Then, in a bleak field, and in a cold wind, we stood three hours and a half Avaiting for orders where to camp. The responsible commander was then discovered in front of a coal fire at a hotel. We were finally sent to a spot near the Monocacy bridge, and pitched our tents, and spread our straAV, and built our fires. Next morning Ave were sent to this beautiful camp ground. Our camp is ahvays famous for its neatness. And here, underbrush has been cut up by the roots, e\'ery leaf swept 68 THE POTOMAC AND THE RAPIDAN. oil", aud trees trimmed of low branches. We have the right of tlic line, the Sixteenth Indiana is next to us, the Thirtieth Pennsylvania a little in the rear, and the good Twelfth Massa- chusetts on tlie left. Our regiment acted admirably in this moving. They never marched better. They behaved well. There was little drinking, and no disorder. Nor can it be said of many regiments, anywhere, that one marched fifteen miles in four hours and a half, with forty pounds of load per man, and came in entire, and in marching order. It could not be said of us, as one officer said of another regiment (his own) on the road, " The had a gay old drunk last night, offi- cers and men." Our officers did not, as did multitudes, rush into Frederick for comfortable beds and coal fires at hotels ; for our commander is too old a soldier to leave his men vmder canvas in cold weather, and take to luxurious shelter himself; and he has too good officers to expect worse of them. In fact, if any of us had asked for leave to join a small swarm of officers (none Massachusetts) at hotels in Frederick, he would have found something else on his colo- nel's face than the kind look he is in the habit of seeing. Though I have, perhaps, taken too much room already, you must let me say a Avord on the recent orders as to chap- lains, concerning dress, &c. It is said, in some papers, that many chaplains are dissatisfied. This may be true at Washington, but it is not so in this division. It is, per- haps, pleasing to me that the simple dress now prescribed is the precise one stated as proper by our commander, when I was leaving home, and which, of course, I procured. The shoulder-straps, gilt buttons, and swords, on some chaplains, have always excited the ridicule of army officers. The less a chaplain assumes to be a military man, the better. His KO WINTER QUARTERS. 09 influence is that of a Christian minister. Men expect that, but they do not expect a mere preaching officer. As to rank, due respect, &c., a chaplain needs no military rank, nor exacted salutations. As General Scott informed a com- mittee, a chaplain will secure that position his qualities enti- tle him to occupy ; that is, when officers are gentlemen. Some regiments — many — have officers not what they should be ; and there the best of chaplains find trouble. But the reverse is sometimes true. In this division, we are glad of the new regulation. We believe that a chaplain's position is too noble for him to need gilt and tinsel. General Jack- son once told a minister applying for office, " You have a higher office than is in my power to bestow," So has a chaplain ; but it is not a military office ; it is that of friend, adviser, and helper, to both officer and private alike. With such material as ours a chaplain feels no lack of rank or show. Camp Hicks, near Frederick, Md,, December 28, 1861. We have supposed that the division was to be put into winter quarters here ; but it seems not. The men have been allowed to make themselves comfortable in log huts, or by board floors ; but it is understood that the general-in-chief has decidedly informed the general of this division that win- ter quarters are not contemplated. The effect of this will not be great as to comfort, inasmuch as Yankee ingenuity can devise ways and means of keeping warm, unless too much care is taken to conciliate secession owners of wood lots. Did I write you, by the way, of a specimen of this regard for rebels — that certain straw stacks were held sacred at Darnestown, guarded by our soldiers, againt