Chapter V: Part 5

With the beginning of the second year's service since the start from Boxford, enters a new division of time in the camp:--Reveillé at sunrise, police-duty, fifteen minutes later; sick-call at 6 a. m.; breakfast, 7; drill, 7.30; recall, 9.30; dinner, 12.30; drill, 3 to 5; dress parade, sunset; tattoo, 8.30; taps, 9 p. m. A long-needed rain came in violent form on the 12th, doing much good, yet was not exactly comfortable for those who had their tents blown down; however, well filled springs were quite consoling in that the regular water supply had grown conspicuously low. The 12th, too, is the day which marked the departure of Longstreet from Lee's army to the relief of Bragg in Georgia and Tennessee, not to return till the battle of the Wilderness is in progress. It takes very little time for the news to reach the hither side of the Rappahannock and an immediate movement towards the south follows, the Second Corps and the Cavalry being the first to advance on the 13th, with the purpose of so engaging the attention of Lee that he will send no more troops to assist in the possible discomfiture of Rosecrans.

The 14th marked the coming of Paymaster Major Burt, and the squaring of accounts for the preceding two months, though the clothing items reduced the compensation in certain cases almost to the vanishing point. Constant activity across the river, the passing of many heavily loaded trains and their return with loads of prisoners and wounded Union soldiers indicated the rapid pushing of things in that direction, and the inevitable advance of the remaining portions of the Federal force. Early in the morning of the 16th came the expected order to be ready to march at 5 a. m. Everything was in readiness, but the start was not made until 7 o'clock and then the regiment and the entire First Corps again crossed the Rappahannock by means of pontoon bridges and advanced towards Culpeper. A considerable part of the way was over an excellent road, though the rations, extra supplies of cartridges and the recently filled knapsacks made the way a hard one. Recent experience of cold nights had taught the men the necessity of retaining their extra apparel but, if some of the unnecessary ammunition were thrown away, it was because the men soon learned that large quantities of cartridges were entirely too burdensome. Though the distance marched was only twelve miles it seemed very much longer, leading by Brandy Station, a name in a few months to become almost a household word both North and South, and in general along the line of the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. While the Second and Sixth Corps had advanced to the Rapidan, the First Corps was held in reserve, some three miles east of Culpeper.

[Sidenote: SEPT. 14, '63]

For a little more than a week this was to be the camping place of the Thirty-ninth and with accustomed diligence there speedily followed the regular round of inspections, drills and parades, though there were many and large details for picket duty. An inspection on the 17th seemed largely for the purpose of ascertaining how generally or otherwise the men had retained the extra ammunition dealt out to them; how successfully delinquents were helped out by those who had retained their heavy loads was long a theme for lengthy dissertations in company circles. The location of the camp upon a rising knoll made it the sport of the winds and the distance of both wood and water was a special hardship. Even then, when water was obtained, it was found to be so hard or so impregnated with lime as to be very distasteful to New England men who had been brought up where soft water was quite the vogue. An indication of a more or less prolonged stay appeared on this, the 17th, when the regimental sutlers put in an appearance and setting up their tents were ready for business. They were not likely to follow too closely an army in motion. Also drills and inspections marked the resumption of regular soldier regimen. The weather was singularly cold for the season of the year; in strolling about the vicinity, it was easy to discover where the enemy had lately encamped.

The advent of eight days' rations on the 22d with an injunction to pack five days' portion in our knapsacks made us think that some unusual stunt was impending. A Division-drill signalized the 23rd, General Robinson conducting the same. The 24th brought the expected change, the regiment marching a few miles down the Rapidan near Raccoon Ford, occupying some portions of the camp held until this morning by the 12th Army Corps, the latter along with the Eleventh having been ordered to arrange for a transfer to the Army of the Cumberland in the Tennessee country; this move being made lest Longstreet's presence with his force should give too hard a problem for Rosecrans to solve. While the orders to Howard and Slocum, of the Eleventh and Twelfth respectively, were issued on the 24th, it was not till the 3rd of October that the great organizations reached their destination. Of far greater consequence to some of the men in the Thirty-ninth was the fact that home-boxes just arrived from Washington had to be left behind. The 25th sees the renewal of regular camp activities along with the necessary cleaning up after the departure of the Twelfth Corps. The 26th saw a large force of twenty-five men from each company, under the command of Lieut. Colonel Peirson, proceeding to the banks of the Rapidan for picket duty. It was while nearing this point that the residence of Dr. John H. Stringfellow of Kansas notoriety, then or later a Confederate Surgeon, was reached and the man himself was interviewed, who declared his undeviating secession proclivities. Though certain of these Massachusetts men would have liked to repay some of the debts due him, they concluded that he was getting his punishment as he went along, for evidently his situation in the midst of contending armies was rapidly reducing him to a condition of absolute destitution.

FOOTNOTES:

[F] John C. Robinson, one of the famous officers of the Union Army, was born in Binghamton, N. Y., April 10, 1817, left West Point 1838, a year before graduation, to study law, but returned to the army in 1839; he won distinction in the Mexican War; as Commandant of Fort McHenry, Baltimore, at the breaking out of the War, he preserved it for the Union side; from the Colonelcy of the First Michigan Infantry, he rose steadily in rank to the command of a division; he was prominent through the Seven Days' Fight, was ever in evidence from Fredericksburg to Gettysburg; he lost a leg at Spottsylvania thus retiring from service in the field; with Governor General John A. Dix, he was Lieut. Governor of the Empire State in 1873-4 and was commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic in 1877-8; in 1887 he attended annual reunion of the Thirty-ninth; he died February 18, 1897.

THE RAPIDAN.

[Sidenote: SEPT. 27, '63]

Picketing along the Rapidan at this time was not a hardship, since by mutual consent there was no firing, and the native Yankee disposition to explore had full vent, when not actually on post, the reserve furnishing many opportunities for learning habits and conditions of the people not otherwise attainable. Relieving the Ninetieth Pennsylvania, one-half of the detail attended to extreme outpost duty, while the other part enjoyed absence of drill and inspections around the reserve camp, "Revelling in that delicious abandon, one bright spot in a soldier's life, when he can do just what he pleases." Thus it was an even turn-about during the days on the river, in these parts only a narrow stream of possibly three rods' width. Most cordial relations existed between Reb. and Fed. and the trades between the Blue and the Gray proved that no monopoly in the swapping habit was enjoyed by the Yankee. Whatever extra coffee the boys possessed proved to be as good as cash, if not better, when dealing with these lads from the Southland. They even swam across the river to partake of Northern hospitality and to facilitate exchanges. The nights being cold, campfires were kindled on both sides and the alleged enemies kept as comfortable as possible, in plain sight of each other.

In the stillness of the Sunday evening (27th) the Confederates in their camp indulged in a prayer-meeting and their hymns, the same that Northern Christians were singing at that very moment in the far away churches, were plainly heard by the hostile soldiery on our side of the stream. Need there be any wonder that some listeners moralized on the absurdity of men who read the same Bible and sang the same songs, spending several years of their lives, none too long at the longest in shooting at each other? Here took place the famous exchange of song, so often told in campfires and wherever it is desirable to prove that one touch of Nature makes the whole world kin. One night the Rebs. started off on the "Bonnie Blue Flag," and when their strains had ceased, the Yanks got back at them with the "Star Spangled Banner"; next the Boys in Gray tuned up with "Maryland, My Maryland" and those in Blue naturally retorted with "The Red White and Blue"; breaking the lull that ensued, our men started John Howard Payne's immortal and universal "Home Sweet Home"; scarcely had the first note been struck before the sympathetic enemy chimed in, and Virginian woods and hillsides echoed with the tender strains clearly showing how Saxon blood remembers. On another occasion a musical exchange, beginning with "Pennyroyal," ran through the list of then popular melodies, though all sang in unison, and very naturally, too, for ending "Old Hundred." Will not coming generations wonder that men who could together sing the old songs should ever fight each other?

Monday, the 28th, ended the stay by the river's side and the detail returned to camp, coming up with it some two miles nearer than when it was left, a fact that in no way disturbed those coming back. While a large part of the Regiment was on its tour of duty, those left behind were by no means idle and they too had their observations of Confederates who apparently had heard from Chickamauga, a favorite shout of theirs across the river being, "How are you, Rosey?" In the afternoon of the 27th, the Regiment and the whole Corps again changed locations; the pickets along the river could plainly see and hear the rebels at their respective tasks; the work upon their fortifications, their drills and other occupations. Here it was that Lieut. Colonel Peirson's detachment found the Regiment on its return. A short move on the 29th, brought the Regiment out of shelling range, but in a place so heavily wooded that trees had to be felled to make camping places, and on ground so low that very little rain made it extremely moist. By building bunks, we were enabled to keep out of the mud, but we were far from comfortable and, to crown all our discomforture, though there was water everywhere, as in the case of the Ancient Mariner, we found not a drop to drink; that had to be brought from a distance. The fires for cooking and bodily comfort were maintained with difficulty, and inflamed eyes, through prevailing smoke, became the rule.

[Sidenote: OCT. 3, '63]

Friday, October 2d, marked a sad day in the annals of the Divisions; the forenoon had been so rainy that it seemed as though nothing could add to the discomforts of the situation, yet the prospect of a march to witness the execution of a bounty-jumper was not so inviting as it might have been under less watery conditions. It was about noon that the Regiment fell into line, and, after standing an hour under the pelting rain, thoroughly drenched it moved out and in mud and water seemingly knee-deep marched some two miles or more to the assigned rendezvous where, after many changes of position to accommodate other portions of the Division, the rain having cleared away, the band of the Sixteenth Maine playing a dirge announced the approach of the procession; the same consisting of the provost guard, followed by an ambulance in which rode the prisoner, sitting upon his coffin, accompanied by his chaplain. Blindfolded and kneeling upon his coffin, the firing squad, obedient to orders, discharged their weapons and the deserter of the Ninetieth Pennsylvania passed on to his reward; however gruesome the scene may have been, undoubtedly the lesson was a valuable one upon such as thought the laws of the land could be broken with impunity.

The return from the execution to a camp, practically under water, was anything but inspiriting and whatever was eaten had to be taken out of the haversack, for campfires were out of the question and sleep to men soaking wet was hardly possible. The weather clearing during the night gave some chance for drying garments during Saturday, the 3rd, and Sunday began to seem endurable and adapted to letter writing, when there came orders to pack up, once at least heard with no sigh of regret. While waiting for orders to march, all ears were startled by the sound of cannonading, which proved to be an effort of the enemy to shell a Union wagon train which had driven somewhat near the rebel works. When the start was made and the new camping spot found, it proved to be an excellent one, high and dry, with plenty of wood and water, and by general consent, the site was first-class; in honor of the Surgeon-in-Chief of the First Corps, the place was known as "Camp Nordquist."

At dress parade, Oct. 7th, an order was read to the effect that men, desirous of changing from infantry regiments to light artillery batteries, could do so by sending their names through the proper channels. Much to the surprise of the officers, there was a very general response to the proposition; indeed two hundred and twenty-three men, almost one half of the effective regimental organization, had filled out papers. Colonel Davis forwarded the long list to division headquarters with his approval, but the applicants had so far overdone the matter, nothing came of it, save that General Robinson in a special order said that the service must inevitably suffer, if so many men were to go from one organization, and there the project ended. However fitting the men found Camp Nordquist, it was not theirs to remain there long, since after lights had been extinguished in the night of the 9th and the men were in the midst of their before-midnight slumbers, there came peremptory orders to pack up and be ready to march. Quickly responding, and building great fires for light and comfort, the Regiment was soon in place and prepared for the next command. It did not come until the morning of the 10th, when in obedience to it the Brigade, Division and all, started out over a by no means easy route and kept in motion until morning. Finding ourselves in the vicinity of Morton's Ford, we were ordered to cook breakfast and make ourselves as comfortable as possible.

A BACKWARD MOVE

An explanation of the event of this and subsequent days is in place here; by a singular coincidence, just as Meade was beginning to do what Lee had been expecting of him, for several weeks, the latter began a move similar to that of the year before when he had hurried Pope across the Rappahannock; in other words, he flanked Meade's right, thus making it necessary for the latter to end any southern plans that he may have formed, and to devote himself exclusively to heading off the Confederate leader. While the entire Union army is in motion our interest centres in the Regiment whose story is in progress. As originally proposed, the First Corps was to cross the Rapidan at Morton's or Raccoon Ford, co-operating with the Cavalry which was to cross the river at Germanna Ford, and to assail the Confederate right; meanwhile the Sixth Corps was to cross at a point further up the river and to attack Lee's left. An early attack was the motive for the very unseasonable start, though its purpose was largely negatived by the great fires with which the men had lighted their way through the night.

[Sidenote: OCT. 11, '63]

All day long the troops awaited the approach of Buford and his troopers before crossing, but no cavalry appeared; night approached and preparations for repose were afoot when the command came to pack up and be off. Evidently the purposes of Lee had been disclosed and an "About Face" was only preliminary to "Forward, March." The night was memorable to those concerned in its exactions, not so much for its length as on account of the difficulties encountered. Along a narrow road, infantry and artillery jostled each other, frequently the former having to take to the fields, many of them low and marshy, or to lie along the roadside while the cannon had the thoroughfare. At last the top of the hills near Mountain Creek, where the first camp south of the Rappahannock had been pitched, was gained and an unparalleled scene broke upon the vision of these sleepy and wearied soldiers. As far as the eye could reach the entire landscape was starred with campfires, and it began to look as though we were to sleep on our old campground. Every conceivable noise saluted the ear; the stroke of axes as they cut up rails for fuel, the clamor of teamsters, endeavoring to get their teams through difficult places and the incessant hum of human voices, raised for a thousand reasons. It was midnight, however, before the Thirty-ninth was ready to commit itself to sleep, and even then, not for long, since at 2 a. m. of the 11th, the call to arms was heard by the tired and sleepy men.

All may have heard the call, but all did not obey at once. Some of them had been known to ignore parental rising calls at home and, on this occasion, they were the happy, lucky ones, since six o'clock arrived and still no orders to move forward, though the right of the corps had been long on the march. The many and rapid changes of the last thirty-six hours have brought about some hitherto unexperienced trouble. Many of the Regiment had been left on picket and one of those, performing this at present hazardous duty, records the following in his diary, "About nine (p. m.) receive orders to pack up and leave; march to our old camp and get some rations; then start again for Pony Mountain. About 3 a. m. (11th), arrive at our old campground, where we first stopped (Aug. 1) after crossing the Rappahannock, and I was just ready to lie down when we were ordered back about a mile to our Regiment." Not all, however, were so fortunate. Though under the command of that sterling veteran, Captain John Hutchins (C), owing to the darkness of the night, some of the men lost their way and thirteen were captured by closely following rebel cavalry; seven of the captives being from "E," the Somerville company, were as follows: Sergt. J. R. Hyde; Privates F. J. Oliver, Henry Howe, Joseph Whitmore, Washington Lovett, all of whom died in Andersonville; and Corp. G. W. Bean and Private J. W. Oliver; the corporal survived seventeen months of imprisonment, getting out March '65, while the private, more fortunate, was paroled after three or four months of durance; John K. Meade of "K" was also taken the same night, the event happening near Stevensburg, about six miles from the Regiment.

[Sidenote: OCT. 2, '63]

The soldier's time honored privilege of grumbling had free course this afternoon, since it was between 10 and 11 a. m. that the lines finally moved. The hardened campaigner understands that no one in the regiment is responsible for unseemly hours of turning out; it means just the same for shoulder straps that it does for men in the ranks; the enemy is near; exactly when or where he may appear no one knows, but all can be ready to respond immediately to the first command. The chances are that not even Colonel Davis was aware that to him and his regiment was to be entrusted a considerable part of the safety of the rear of the retreating army. Yet such was the case, and when the fact became apparent not over pleasant memories of their former experience in a similar duty were recalled; happily in this case the wagon trains had been hurried forward and the coast was comparatively clear all the way to Kelly's Ford, passing on the way all that was left of the hamlet of Stevensburg. Further down the river was a pontoon-bridge over which other troops were passing but, as the enemy was near, there could be no delay and at 5 p. m., or thereabouts, the men marched through, the water being about waist deep and, in chilly October, anything but agreeable. With all possible precautions taken for defense against the closely following foe, and with great fires to dry their saturated garments, the soldiers were soon comparatively comfortable.

CAMPAIGN OF MANEUVERS.

By way of explanation of the marchings and counter-marchings in which the regiment is indulging, it should be stated that a considerable portion of October was devoted to what Wm. Swinton calls "A campaign of maneuvers." So far from reading each other's mind, it would appear that neither Lee nor Meade was accurately informed of the actual procedure of his rival for, while the Confederates were still making their way northward, but not being encountered by Meade where he expected, the latter ordered the Second, Fifth and Sixth Corps to turn about and to be ready to face Lee at or near Culpeper; the Third Corps, under French, meanwhile was at Freeman's Ford on the Rappahannock, and the First we have seen at Kelly's Ford. When the Union Commander learned that Lee had simply gone a little further west for his crossing of the Rappahannock, White Sulphur Springs, on the 12th, and was rapidly nearing Warrenton, he recalled the troops south of the river and then began the forced march to prevent Lee's distancing him completely. Thomas Nelson Page says, "Meade was a master at moving his troops and now, making a forced march that night was in Lee's rear the next morning"(13th). It was a hotly contested race as to which army should first reach Bristoe Station, thus ending any purpose that Lee might have had against Washington.

In all these movements on the great chessboard of war with its army corps, divisions and brigades, what was a single regiment among so many hundred? How much less was the individual, and it is the province of a history, such as this, to keep as near the individual as possible. Even a brigade, in such a vast array of men, was scarcely more than a pawn in the mighty game the Blue and the Gray were playing for American supremacy. Still every regiment had its part to perform in the progress of the contest, and thousands of people in the homeland were watching each and every day's doing with supreme interest, their thoughts chiefly centered on some particular organization, and to them and the members themselves there was no other body quite so important as "ours." To follow day by day, the march, bivouac and duty of the Thirty-ninth Massachusetts in this and all other campaigns in which it had a part is the office of this story.

[Sidenote: OCT. 12, '63]

The white frost that greeted the eyes of waking soldiers in the morning of the 12th was quite as cold as any that New England could present, and campfires never were more appreciated. A hurried breakfast was prepared and eaten when the brigade was ordered into hurriedly made rifle-pits, where the day was spent with the understanding that trouble might arise at any moment. This was the day in which Meade was looking for Lee. While there were sounds of activity elsewhere, nothing disturbed the Thirty-ninth, some even writing letters as the hours passed on. At no time in the history of the Regiment, did legs play a more important part than they did on the 13th of October; called from slumber at midnight, the advance was begun at one o'clock of the morning, and through the darkness the blue clad men were pushing forward as rapidly as possible towards Warrenton Junction, reaching it at 11 a. m., with fifteen miles to the credit of the forenoon's effort. At Bealton station on the way, at six o'clock three had been a halt, and the men naturally supposed that coffee and breakfast were in order, but, much to the disappointment of all, came the order to advance and that, too, without delay. When men demurred and undertook to continue their preparation of food, staff officers rushed among them and, kicking over their utensils, put out the fires, thus impressing on the hungry fellows the fact that the march was a forced one. It surely was a hurried getting-away and many a vehicle came to grief, particularly among the sutlers who had been somewhat venturesome in their coming to the front; it was even claimed that misfortunes to the outfits of the sutlers were not always unprovoked, since the removal of linchpins by mischievous boys and the consequent running off of wheels gave opportunity to fill otherwise empty haversacks.

At Warrenton Junction all preparations were made for the possible attack of the enemy, batteries being unlimbered, the Regiment formed in battle-line, though the noon hour, after the long retreat, suggested dinner to the almost famished men, but the experience of the preceding July had taught all that the locality was sadly lacking in water supply. Except those who were looking out for the rear, the troops were in active motion, all passing by at the height of speed. Great quantities of commissary stores were piled up, and these were either carried off by the soldiers themselves or loaded upon the trains and thus saved, so disappointing the enemy who had reckoned on getting to these food supplies first. After a considerable halt the march proceeded along the line of railroad past Catlett's Station to Bristoe's, reaching the latter point late in the evening and camping at about nine o'clock. On the way we had passed the great wagon trains of the Army of the Potomac, packed in one, great, solid square, with wheels chained together, the mules being secured in the centre, indicating that the danger of immediate attack from the enemy was thought to be over for the present at least, and it also seemed that the First Corps came near being in the lead. A march of nearly twenty-five miles with almost empty haversacks gave the men reason for being considerably tired.

"Not every boo is a bear" was clearly shown on this march towards Centreville when Fred, brother of Sergeant L. of "K," having permission from the colonel, undertook to secure a chicken for the sergeant whose stomach was not in accord with his regular rations. With instructions to be extremely careful, the soldier went from house to house but without success, the guards at these places telling him that he was running great risks, since the men, seen in the distance, were clearly bushwhackers. It was nightfall before he found the chicken he was after, and by the time he was making his way back, darkness settled down. He had to pass through a strip of woods where every object was distorted and even a deaf man would have heard sounds. Halfway through the woods, a real noise in the roadside bushes made his hair begin to rise, but he did not stop to investigate too closely, when the climax was reached by six or seven razorback hogs dashing across the road in front of him. The sudden change from probable guerrillas to actual swine was a relief unutterable, but the former were about and that very night carried off two men from the headquarter's wagon train. While the sergeant enjoyed his chicken broth and improved thereon, he declared the risk too great and Fred went on no more such errands.

[Sidenote: OCT. 14, '63]

It was a four o'clock call of the bugle, in the morning of the 14th, that summoned frost covered and sleepy soldiers from dreams to realities, but their distress was somewhat offset by the appearance of rations, of which they drew supplies for four days and thereby were better equipped for the day's progress which began at seven o'clock, as one veracious chronicler states, with the First Corps on the left and the Sixth at the right of the railroad. While these two Army Corps were thus continuing their way in relative quiet, heavy firing in the rear indicated that the Second and Fifth Corps were having something to do, the Second fighting the battle of Bristoe Station; General Warren having his hands full in warding off the attack of the enemy while the cavalry, on both sides, were piling up the portentous list of battles, many of them bloodless, which adorn the histories of so many mounted regiments. Centreville, so famous in the July days of 1861, was now the evident destination of the forces and crossing Bull Run, at Blackburn's Ford, the scene of the first day's fight in the memorable First Bull Run engagement, the brigade arrived at Centreville not far from noon. To build fires and to prepare a dinner, undisturbed, was the next act in this day's drama and, if tired soldiers caught a few hours sleep before the next scene, it need not be wondered at. Some of the men in the Thirty-ninth were participants in the disastrous battle of Bull Run; to them it was a case of old scenes revisited, and if they took some pride in rehearsing their experiences they did not fail of interested listeners.

But the day was by no means done; though Centreville had been reached, the enemy was still near, only a little way to the west, and picket lines must be established. Accordingly the Regiment proceeded on its somewhat confusing task, while the greater part of the division went on a reconnoisance. Apparently there was little definite knowledge of localities, since one writer observed that they reached their destination at seven o'clock and marched around till eleven, and another of Company E relates the interesting experience of trying to obey the orders to follow Bull Run until the pickets of the Sixth Corps were reached. After crossing Cub Run, three miles away, Major A. D. Leavitt of the Sixteenth Maine, division-officer of the picket, went on ahead to ascertain his whereabouts, leaving the Regiment in a field. Returning in less than an hour, he reported a rebel camp in the immediate front; in trying to retire, the line was halted by our own pickets when it appeared that we had been more than a mile beyond our own lines. On calling the roll, Sergeant Dusseault found that twelve men were missing. Major Leavitt would allow no one to go back after them but himself and he found the missing men fast asleep where we had been waiting. Bringing them all safe and sound to their own, established the reputation of the Major with the Thirty-ninth from that time on, as long as he lived. To one member of Company E, "Johnny" Locke, the memory of the Major was specially grateful, because of the latter's kindness. The young man had been suffering for days from a carbuncle on his neck; in any other place than the army, he would have been laid up completely, but here he kept going; he was one of those found by the officer and, recognizing the condition of the soldier, he kindly got down from his horse and mounted the boy in the saddle. Sidney himself could have done no more.

[Sidenote: OCT. 16, '63]

The dawn of the morning of the 15th did not reveal the situation with certainty to these inexperienced soldiers; they knew that they were very near the thrilling scenes of more than one and two years before, that the sound of musketry and cannon-firing in their front indicated the possibility of a third battle of Bull Run. It was theirs, however, to watch and wait in constant expectation of orders to lend a hand. One writer enlarges on the delights of persimmon-eating, the October frosts having ripened the yellow delicacy to perfection, and the various other diversions that unoccupied hours ever suggest. Though the brigade was finally rejoined and there was a movement towards Centreville with orders to pitch tents, before the same could be obeyed a long threatened rain began to fall, putting out whatever fires had been built and essentially adding to the discomforts and uncertainties of the day. Rations were drawn late at night and record is made of the giving out of a portion of whiskey as a stimulant to the wet and weary soldiers. The experiences of the 16th and 17th did not vary essentially from those of the 15th; there were picket duty, acting as reserve, the drawing of rations and all sorts of prognostications as to what the outcome of the expedition would be. While the cavalry of both sides kept up an exchange of compliments, very few casualties were reported from any source. That those who directed believed there was immediate danger was evident in the degree of caution constantly maintained; roll-call every two hours and constant injunctions to be ready to move at any moment.

The 18th marked the end of the Confederate effort to repeat the campaign of the preceding June and July, and that of 1862. General Lee writing to his wife on the 19th of October says:

I have returned to the Rappahannock. I did not pursue with the main army beyond Bristoe or Broad Run. Our advance went as far as Bull Run, where the enemy was entrenched, extending his right as far as Chantilly, in the yard of which he was building a redoubt. I could have thrown him farther back, but I saw no chance of bringing him to battle, and it would have only served to fatigue our troops by advancing farther. If they had been properly supplied with clothes, I would certainly have endeavored to have thrown them north of the Potomac; but thousands were barefooted, thousands with fragments of shoes, and all without overcoats, blankets or warm clothing. I could not bear to expose them to certain suffering on an uncertain issue.

From the foregoing it would seem that only the Confederate cavalry had been responsible for the Federal activity in and about the old Bull Run battlefields, and now even the horsemen were to follow the foot forces and the Union troops would again move west and southward. Ordered out and to pack up in the morning of the 19th the prospects were not improved by a severe rain storm which completely drenched both tents and apparel so that, to regular burdens, was added the weight of water absorbed by the fabrics. Starting at about eight o'clock, the route was along the Warrenton turnpike, the very road, so prominent in all accounts of the two Bull Run fields, with the sad sights of only partially covered bodies of those who had perished in the engagements; the severe rain was constantly adding to the heaviness of the way and Thoroughfare Gap, the reputed destination of the march, seemed a very long distance off. The vicinity of Haymarket on the Manassas Gap Railroad was reached about 4 p. m. and the noise ahead indicated a fear that the enemy was there in force, our artillery keeping up a vigorous shelling of what was thought to be the rebel position. Camps were made and tents pitched only to have the vexatious order "Pack up" given just as we were disposed to get a bit of rest. Rations, too, were scarce and everything combined to make the day and night particularly trying; at 3.30 p. m. or thereabouts of the 20th an advance was made through Thoroughfare Gap, though there were those who thought "No Thoroughfare," on account of the difficulties of the way, would be a better designation.

The 21st was spent in camp which was pitched on such a hilly surface that at least two bunkies had to stake a board at their feet, lest they slide from under their blankets. Every one remarked on the beauty of the locality and comments were made on the five storied flouring-mill standing in the Gap, the same being thought the finest edifice yet seen in Virginia. Notwithstanding the recent destruction of railroads on the Confederate retreat, so quickly were repairs made and so immediate the communications between the different departments that a wagon supply train came through in the afternoon and hungry men were fed once more. One man said his breakfast had consisted of half a hardtack; the same writer, his stomach being at rest, could enlarge on the beauties of the moonlight in the evening. Poetic thoughts are not prevalent in the presence of hunger. The 22d brought inspection, an indication that the officers, at least, thought us anchored for a while; the 23rd was marked by a battalion drill, another sign of permanency and, to complete the soldiers' happiness, quartermaster's stores appeared so that many defects and wants in uniform were supplied.

[Sidenote: OCT. 23, '63]

While every prospect was pleasing, it was not for sightseeing that these men in blue were so far from home and all realized that a long stay here was out of the question, so the orders to be ready for a start at seven o'clock of the 24th surprised no one. A very heavy, cold rain had been falling during a large part of the preceding night, hence wet tents increased the burdens of travel while empty haversacks reminded the owner of an equally vacant stomach. Every day, during an active campaign, reminded all concerned of the truth of the old adage that an army, like a snake, moves upon its belly, and Oliver Twist, ever insistent on more, was reproduced in every healthy soldier in the Potomac Army. Only the few who had provided for a possible lacking of rations had anything to eat this morning, hence no time was lost in preparing breakfast. It was through a pitiless rain that the day's march, beginning early in the forenoon, was made back through Thoroughfare Gap; following the railroad as nearly as possible, luckily the grade being down rather than up; fording streams, especially Broad Run, though they could make the men no more wet than they already were from the rain; through Haymarket, Gainesville to Bristoe Station, the scene of the Second Corps' fight on the 14th. On every hand were evidences of the fierce encounter, as dead horses and the many graves of the slain. Though the most of the brigade halted here, the Thirty-ninth and the Ninety-fourth New York had not reached their limit, and they continued until Kettle Run was reached.

The special duty assigned to these two regiments was the guarding of the railroad, which had been repaired to this point and the bridge which was in process of building; all were exceedingly tired from the long day's exactions; there was no food to cook for supper but they could build big fires and dry to some extent their drenched apparel, and then seek rest and the sleep which hovers near the wet and weary. Sunday, the 25th, dawned bright and beautiful, its warmth imparting sun soon dried what the fires of the night before had failed to do and, had there only been rations for the hungry men, they might have been in a better mood for enjoyment. Ten of the clock brought inspection, as inevitable as death itself; before noon the anxiously expected rations appeared and, with them disposed of, the Regiment was ready for any duty that might be assigned. With the food also came some articles of apparel, so that long needed blankets made nights more comfortable. For eleven days or until the 5th of November, this locality, the camp having been changed a bit and more carefully laid out, became the habitat of the Thirty-ninth. It was during the night of the 25th that Lieutenant I. D. Paul of Company F came near losing his life; orders had been given to those on guard to challenge no one but to shoot at sight; only the recognition of his shoulder strap saved the popular officer's falling a victim to the very orders that he had himself given out.

[Sidenote: NOV. 4, '63]

Though the camp was to continue quite a while for an active campaign, the men did not know it, nor anyone else for that matter, so orders to be ready for a move were not unheard during this period of comparative rest; still the regular routine of roll-calls, drill, etc., was resumed, for absolute ease was unknown to members of the Thirty-ninth. The season being the last of October, the weather was sharp, the rains cold and need of warm clothing apparent. The 29th brought quite a rarity in the shape of a ration of "soft bread" as the soldiers always called the baker's product, in the shape of loaves, in distinction from the hard bread or the regulation hardtack, the real standby. The last day of the month was written down as the date of muster for two months' pay and the fact that food was abundant, since, being right on the railroad, by means of steam, rations came direct from Washington. On Tuesday, November 3rd, there was a brigade drill, conducted by Colonel Leonard of the Thirteenth Massachusetts, commanding the brigade, and the giving out of eight days' rations had a decided look towards a change of camps. The 4th was signalized by the arrival of boxes from home and many a boy's heart, as well as stomach, was made glad by evidence of home regard and recollection.

While the men regretted leaving their comparatively comfortable camp, all realized that the mutations of war demanded almost constant action, so the orders while battalion drill was in progress to get ready for a move were not entirely a surprise; besides, the many rations of the day before were a warning. Arms having been stacked, tents were pulled down and everything made ready for the start, which was about 4 p. m., and a large part of the march to Catlett's station, some seven miles away, was made after dark, hence tedious, made all the more so by the burden of extra rations and a winter outfit of clothing and tent material. Some one has characterised the march as a helter-skelter one, every man "going on his own hook," without regard to regimental formation, let alone so compact a matter as a company; each man camped down where he could do so most comfortably; "there was no roll-call that night." The next day the soldiers found their own, and the Regiment moved half a mile or so from the night's bivouac and pitched tents on a side-hill, resuming the routine of regular camp life, and entry is made of the burning of the tall grass which grew near, necessitating some energetic work on the part of the campers to extinguish, and the all too apparent exertions of the preceding twenty-four hours merited the whiskey ration which was dealt out.

That no degree of permanency had yet been attained was evident when early orders were received to be ready to march at 6.30 a. m. of the 7th, and the start was made at 7, much nearer than usual to the allotted hour, and the trend was southward, through Warrenton Junction and Elktown to the vicinity of Morristown, a few miles from the Rappahannock. Not only was the entire First Corps in motion but the same was true of the Second and Third as well, all indications pointed to a resumption of the status prior to the October Northward move. Whatever the plans or purposes, they were not carried out without provocation to firing as appeared in the sounds from the river region; later knowledge acquaints us that the noise arose from portions of the Sixth and Fifth Corps at Rappahannock Station and the Third Corps at Kelly's Ford, disputing possession with the ever present and always vigilant enemy. The distance marched varied according to the one estimating, the same ranging from fifteen to seventeen miles. In October, 4.30 a. m. is a long while before daylight, yet this was the time of waking on the 8th and, after the very essential coffee-making, the line was off soon after six o'clock. The first considerable halt was at Grove Church where were seen a large number of Confederate wounded from yesterday's engagements.

BRANDY STATION

[Sidenote: OCT. 10, '63]

The Rappahannock was crossed at Kelly's Ford by means of a pontoon bridge and, at 5 p. m., the Regiment was near Brandy Station, having marched ten or twelve miles; the route, where possible, was along the railroad which will be in operation to-morrow probably. Tents were pitched and large fires built and many were pleased to find not so very far away the Tenth (Sleeper's) Massachusetts Battery which we had left at Poolesville and now is connected with the First Division, Third Army Corps and which, yesterday, had borne its part in the incidents of the day. Many a handshake and "Glad to see you" signalized the meeting. The earlier part of the 9th was passed in the halting place of yesterday, some of the men improving the chance to call on friends in the Tenth Battery, but at two in the afternoon, the familiar "Pack-up" order was heard with the accompanying direction to be ready to march at four o'clock. A little before sunset, the start was made by a countermarch, recrossing the Rappahannock on the pontoon bridge and a long, wearisome, night trip followed, one of the features being the first snowstorm of the season, all tending to make a very tired lot of men, who were pushed along without halting to Licking Run, between Bealton and Warrenton Junction, possibly fifteen miles from the starting place, arriving a little past midnight. Very many fell out on the way quite unable to stand the pace, and those who did stick to the colors wasted no time in preparations for camp, but dropped at once and straightway fell asleep.

The morning of the 10th revealed a tired array of men and a snow-covered earth, but human nature and human bodies rally readily. After a short move further into a considerable piece of woods, camp was pitched and preparations were made for as comfortable a stay as possible, some of the men expressing the wish that they might remain a while because of the abundance of wood and water, and here they were to remain almost two weeks, though from them the fact was concealed; probably no one knew what the future would unfold. There was work for many of the men repairing the railroad, some having to go into the woods to cut sleepers, others to assist with pick and shovel. This day, the 10th, the promotion of 1st Sergeant Dusseault, Company E, was announced and he was assigned to Company H as Second Lieutenant. Within this period, drills were resumed and all else that pertained to routine and efficiency; clothing was drawn, the Regiment was paid for September and October on the 16th and 17th and by a singular coincidence the sutler made his appearance at the same time. Evidently some of the men were in arrears, as for that matter, most soldiers were wont to be. Considerable care was taken with the tents of both officers and men, the idea gaining credence that a prolonged stay might be made here, but neither army was ready, as yet, for winter quarters.

Orders to move were circulated on the 22d and at four o'clock in the forenoon of the 23rd, drowsy men were summoned from their sleep to pack-up and be ready for another change, starting from their late camp at about sunrise. On reaching Bealton, a union was effected with the remainder of the division and a few miles further, towards the Rappahannock, camp was made for the night, all realizing that cold weather was upon them and that the burdens, on the march by day, had to be heavy in order to insure any comfort for the night. Rain fell very easily during those days, and it was somewhat discouraging to have to turn out at 4 a. m. and, breakfasting at an early hour, to stand in line momentarily expecting the order, "Forward," and all the time pelted by the falling rain. After a while we were ordered to put up our tents again, a change of mind having been experienced higher up. Wednesday, the 25th, differed in no essential from its predecessor, though many of the men were wondering whether the mail, express or freight, would bring them anything from home by way of a reminder of Thanksgiving, due on the 26th. Disappointment was the lot of all, for authorities in Washington must have known of impending activity and so withheld what thoughtful friends had attempted to forward to the army; sutlers however put in an appearance, an ill-starred act, on their part, as the morrow was to show.

MINE RUN

[Sidenote: NOV. 26, '63]

Thanksgiving day in the North, November 26th, should be remembered as the beginning of the famous Mine Run affair, one of the greatest of the battles that were never fought. Judging from results in former years, when campaigning was undertaken at this season of the year, it would seem that winter quarters would be a better proposition for the army than another forward movement, but General Meade, feeling that the Northern public demanded some aggressive movement on his part, determined to avail himself of the withdrawal of Longstreets' Corps and the remoteness of Lee's remaining Corps, Ewell's and Hill's, from each other, and to take the offensive. Ewell's men, under the command of General Jubal A. Early, Ewell being ill, held the Confederate right, the same resting on the Rapidan at Morton's Ford, while Hill's forces in their dispersion extended fully twenty miles to the southwest. Meade could lead 70,000 men into the assault, while Lee's troops were rated at 50,000; the lower fords of the Rapidan were quite uncovered, Lee depending for defence on a line of fortifications extending along the left bank of Mine Run, an insignificant stream, tributary to the Rapidan and entering the same near Morton's Ford. The words of Robert Burns concerning the plans of mice and men never had better application than in the events of the following days. Had army corps crossed and attacked as projected, considering the detached, not to say scattered, condition of the enemy, it seems as though he would have been beaten in detail.

Had General French and his Third Corps started at the early hour named in the orders; had not the engineer miscalculated the width of the stream and so provided too few pontoons for the bridge which had to be pieced out with a trestle; had not the banks of the river proved too precipitous for the artillery which had to go down to Germanna Ford and even then, if the Corps had not taken a wrong road and so fallen foul of Confederate General Edward Johnson and his forces, the entire story of the war might have been very different from what is written. In brief, the expedition was scheduled to begin early in the morning of the 23rd, but was delayed by the severe rain of that and subsequent days. The orders under which the start of the 27th was made were that the Third Corps, General French, followed by the Sixth, General Sedgwick, should cross the Rapidan at Jacob's Mills; the Fifth, General Sykes, followed by the First, General Newton, was to cross at Culpeper Mine, while the Second, General Warren, was to cross by the Germanna Ford, between the other fords named. With ten days' rations carried by the men, General Meade was justifiable "in cutting loose from his base of supplies, and undertaking the feat in three columns of seizing the plank road and turnpike and, by advancing rapidly towards Orange Court House, of turning the enemy's works and compelling him to give battle on ground not previously selected or prepared."

[Sidenote: NOV. 26, '63]