Chapter 37

_The Battle of Fredericksburg--Screwing Courage up to the Sticking Point--Consolations of a Flask--Pigeon-hole Nervousness--Abandonment of Knapsacks--Incidents before, during, and after the Fight._

In this wintry weather, striking tents meant stripping the log huts of the bits of canvas that ordinarily served as the shelter-tents of the soldiers. The long rows of huts thus dismantled,--soldiers at rest in ranks, with full knapsacks and haversacks,--groups of horses saddled and bridled, ready for the rider,--on one of these clear, cold December mornings, indicated that the army was again upon the move. Civilians had been sent back freighted with letters from those soon to see the serious struggle of the field; the sick had been gathered to hospitals nearer home; the musicians had reported to the surgeons, and the men were left, to the sharp notes of sixty rounds of ball cartridge carried in their boxes and knapsacks,--in the plight of the Massachusetts regiment that marched through the mobs of Baltimore, to the music of the cartridge-box, in the first April of the Rebellion.

The time intervening between the removal of McClellan and the battle of Fredericksburg, was a period of uneasy suspense to the nation at large and its representatives in the field. Dear as the devoted patriotism, the earnest conduct of the Rhode Island Colonel--the hero of the Carolinas and now the leader of the Grand Army of the Potomac--were to the patriotic masses of the nation, the fact of his being an untried man, gave room for gloom and foreboding. With the army at large, the suspense was accompanied by no lack of confidence. The devotion of the Ninth Army Corps for its old commander appeared to have spread throughout the army; and his open, manly countenance, bald head, and unmistakable whiskers, were always greeted with rounds for "Burny." The jealousy of a few ambitious wearers of stars may have been ill concealed upon that morning, only to be disclosed shortly to his detriment; but the earnest citizen-soldiery were eager, under his guidance, to do battle for their country. Time has shown, how much of the misfortune of the subsequent week was attributable to imperfect weeding of McClellanism at Warrenton.

Like a lion at bay, restless in easy view of the hosts of the Rebellious, the army had remained in its camp upon the heights of Stafford until the arrival of the pontoons. For miles along the Rappahannock, the picket of blue had his counterpart in the picket of grey upon the opposite shore. Unremitting labor upon fortifications and earthworks, had greatly increased the natural strength of the amphitheatre of hills in the rear of Fredericksburg. Countless surmises spread in the ranks as to the character and direction of the attack; though the whims of those who uttered them were variant as the reflections of a kaleidoscope. But the sun, that through the pines that morning, shone upon burnished barrels, polished breast-plates, and countenances of brave men, radiant, as if reflecting their holy purpose, has never, since the shining hosts of Heaven were marshalled for the suppression of the great prototype of this Rebellion, seen more earnest ranks, or a holier cause.

The bugles call "Attention," then "Forward." Horses are rapidly mounted; and speedily coming to the shoulder, and facing to the right, the army is in motion by the flank towards the river. Far as the eye could see, in all directions, there were moving masses of troops. Cowardly beneath contempt is the craven, who in such a cause, and at such a time, would not feel inspirited by the firm tread of the martial columns.

"Hear 'em! Oh, Hear 'em!" exclaimed an earnest-looking country boy, hastily closing a daguerreotype case, into which he had been intently gazing, and replacing it in his pocket, as the booming of a heavy siege gun upon the Washington Farm, followed instantly by the reports of several batteries to the right, broke upon the ear like volleyed thunder. A clap of thunder from a clear sky could not have startled him more, had he been at work upon his father's farm. His earnest simplicity afforded great amusement to his comrades, and for a while made him the butt of a New York Regiment that then chanced to be marching abreast. Raw recruit as he was, cowardice was no part of his nature, and he indignantly repelled the taunts of his comrades. Gloom deep settled was visible upon his countenance, however, although firm his step and compressed his lip.

"Terence," said he, to the little Irish Corporal who marched by his side, as another suggestive artillery fire that appeared to move along the entire front, made itself heard, "may I ask a favor of you?"

"Indade ye may, John, and a thousand ov them if ye plaze, to the last dhrop in my canteen."

One of those jams so constant and annoying in the movements of large masses of men, here gave the opportunity for John to unbosom himself, which he did, while both leaned upon the muzzles of their pieces.

"Terence, I do not believe that I will be alongside of you many days," said John, with an effort.

"Why, what's the matter wid ye, boy? if I didn't know ye iver since you thrashed that bully in the Zouaves, I wud think ye cowardly."

"It is not fear, Corporal," continued John, more determinedly. "I'm looking the danger squarely in the face, and am ready to meet it, and I want to be prepared for it."

"Be jabers, John," retorted Terence, "ye should have prepared for it before you left home. I saw Father Mahan just before I left, and he tould me to do my duty like a thrue Irishman; and that if I was kilt in such a cause I wud go straight through, and be hardly asked to stay over night in Purgatory. There's my poor brother, peace to his soul;--and did ye hear----"

"But, Terence," interrupted John, "I am not afraid of death; and for the judgment after death I have made all the preparation I could in my poor way, and I can trust that to my Maker; but"----and here John clapped his hand over his left breast.

"Oh, I see," said Terence. "It's a case of disease of the heart."

"I want you, in case I fall, to take the daguerreotype that you will find in the inside pocket on the left side of my blouse, and a sealed letter, and see that both are sent to the address upon the letter," continued John.

"Faith, will I, John. But who tould you that you wud be kilt, and meself that's alone and friendless escape? Well, I'll take them, John, if I have to go meself; and it's Terence McCarty that will not see her suffer; and maybe--but it's hard seeing how a girl could take a fancy to a short curly-headed Irishman, like meself, after having loved a sthrapping, straight-haired man like you."

How John relished the winding-up of the corporal's offer could not well be seen, as an order to resume the step interrupted the conversation.

Progress was slow, necessarily, from the caution required in the approach to the river. Over the rolling ground, to an artillery accompaniment unequalled in grandeur, the troops trudged slowly along. Here and there was a countenance of serious determination, but the great mass were gay and reckless, as soldiers proverbially are, of the risks the future might hold in reserve.

After a succession of short marches and halts, the forward movement appeared to cease about four o'clock in the afternoon, and the men quietly rested on their arms, as well as the damp, and in many places muddy ground would allow. Towards evening countless fires, fed by the dry bushes found in abundance upon the old fields of Virginia, showed that amidst war's alarms the men were not unmindful of coffee.

Throughout the day, with but brief cessation, artillery firing had continued. The booming of the siege guns, mingled with the sharp rattle of the light, and the louder roar of the heavy batteries, all causing countless echoes among the neighboring hills, completed the carnival of sound.

Night crept gradually on, the fires were extinguished, the cannonading slackened gradually, then ceased, and the vast army, save those whom duty kept awake, silently slept under frosted blankets.

Cannonading was resumed at early dawn of the next day, and the slow progress of the troops towards the river continued. Before night our advance had crossed upon the pontoon bridges, notwithstanding a galling fire of the Rebel sharpshooters under cover of the buildings along the river, and was firmly established in the town. Late in the day our Division turned into a grove of young pines, a short distance in the rear of the Phillips House. Upon beds of the dead foliage, soft as carpets of velvet, after the fatigues of the day, slumber was sound.

The reveille sounded at early morn of the next day,--Saturday, the memorable thirteenth of December,--by over three hundred pieces of artillery, again aroused the sleeping camps to arms, and in the grey fog, the groves and valleys for some miles along the river appeared alive with moving masses. As soon as the fog lifted sufficiently, a large balloon between us and the river arose, upon a tour of observation. It was a fine mark for a rifled battery of the Rebels, and some shells passed close to it, and exploded in dangerous proximity to our camp.

Under an incessant artillery fire the main movement of the troops across the river commenced. Leaving our camp and passing to the right of the Phillips mansion, we found our Division, one of a number of columns moving in almost parallel lines to the river. On the western slope of the hill or ridge upon which the house stood, we came to another halt, until our turn to cross should come.

Whatever modern armies may have lost in dazzling appearance, when contrasted with the armies of old that moved in glittering armor and under "banner, shield, and spear," they certainly have lost nothing in the enginery of death, and in the sights and sounds of the fight itself. A twelve-pound battery under stern old Cato's control, would have sent Cæsar and his legions howling from the gates of Rome, and have saved the dignity of her Senate. The shock of battle was then a medley of human voices, confused with the rattle of the spear upon the shield; now a hell of thunder volumed from successive batteries,--and relieved by screaming and bursting shell and rattling musketry. The proper use of a single shell would have cleared the plains of Marathon. More appropriately can we come down to later times, when

"The old Continentals, In their ragged regimentals, Faltered not,"

for the ground upon which our army stood had repeatedly been used as a rallying point for troops, and a depot for military stores in Continental and Revolutionary times. How great the contrast between the armies now upon either side of the Rappahannock, and the numbers, arms, and equipage then raised with difficulty from the country at large. Our forefathers in some measure foresaw our greatness; but they did not foresee the magnitude of the sin of slavery, tolerated by them against their better judgment, and now crowding these banks with immense and hostile armies. Since that day the country has grown, and with it as part of its growth, the iniquity, but the purposes of the God of battles prevail nevertheless. The explosion that rends the rock and releases the toad confined and dormant for centuries, may not have been intended for that end by the unwitting miner, nor the civil convulsion that shatters a mighty nation to relieve an oppressed people and bestow upon it the blessings of civilization, may not have been started with that view by foul conspirators.

But while we are digressing, a cavalcade of mounted men have left the area in front of the Phillips mansion, and are approaching us upon the road at a full gallop. The boys recognize the foremost figure, clad in a black pilot frock, his head covered with a regulation felt, the brim of which is over his eyes and the top rounded to its utmost capacity, and cheer upon cheer for "Burney" run along the column. With a firm seat, as his horse clears the railroad track and dashes through the small stream near by, he directs his course to the Lacy House on the bank of the river.

It was near noon when we passed over the same ground, and taking a road to the right of the once tasteful grounds of that mansion, debouched by a narrow pass cut through the bank to the water's edge. As we did so, some shells thrown at the mounted officers of the Regiment passed close to their heads and exploded with a dull sound in the soft ground of the bank. With a steady tramp the troops crossed, scarcely the slightest motion being perceptible upon the firm double pontoon bridge. Another column was moving across upon the bridge below. Gaining the opposite bank, the column filed to the left, in what appeared to be a principal street of the town. Here knapsacks were unslung and piled in the store rooms upon either side.

The few citizens who remained had sought protection from the shells in the cellars, and not an inhabitant of the place was to be seen. Notwithstanding the heavy concentrated artillery fire,--beyond some few buildings burned down,--nothing like the destruction was visible that would be imagined. Deserted by its proper inhabitants, the place had, however, a heavy population in the troops that crowded the streets parallel with the river. The day previous the Rebels had opened fire upon the town. It was continued at intervals, but with little effect. Z-i-i-s-s! a round shot sings above your head, and with a sharp thud strikes the second story of the brick house opposite, marking its passage by a tolerably neat hole through the wall. P-i-i-n-g! screams a shell, exploding in a room with noise sufficient to justify the total destruction of a block of buildings. The smoke clears away, ceilings may be torn, floors and windows shattered, but the building, to an outside observer, little damaged.

From an early hour in the morning the musketry had been incessant,--now in volleys, and now of the sharp rattling nature that denotes severe skirmishing. On the left, where more open ground permitted extended offensive movements, the firing was particularly heavy. But above it all was the continuous roar of artillery, and the screaming and explosion of shells. To this music the troops in light order and ready for the fray, marched up a cross street, and in the shelter of the buildings of another street on the outer edge of the place and parallel with the river, stood at arms,--passing on their way out hundreds of wounded men of different regiments, on stretchers and on foot, some with ghastly wounds, and a few taking the advantage of the slightest scratch to pass from front to rear. Legs and arms carelessly heaped together alongside of one of the amputating tents in the rear of the Phillips House, and passed in the march of the day before, had prepared the nerves of the men somewhat for this most terrible ordeal for fresh troops. Many of the wounded men cheered lustily as the men marched by, and were loudly cheered in return, while here and there an occasional skulker would tell how his regiment was cut to pieces, and like Job's servant he alone left.

From this point a fine view could be had of the encircling hills, with their crowning earthworks, commanding the narrow plateau in our immediate front. On the right and centre the Rebel line was not to be assailed, but by advancing over ground that could be swept by hundreds of pieces of artillery, while to protect an advancing column our batteries from their position must be powerless for good. A stone wall following somewhat the shape of the ridge ran along its base. Properly banked in its rear, it afforded an admirable protection for their troops. As there was no chance for success in storming these works, the object in making the attempt was doubtless to divert the Rebel attention from their right.

Column after column of the flower of the army, had during the day charged successively in mad desperation upon that wall; but not to reach it. Living men could not stand before that heavy and direct musketry, and the deadly enfilading cannonade from batteries upon the right and left. The thickly strewn plain attested at once the heroic courage of the men, and the hopelessness of the contest.

"Boys, we're in for it," said a Lieutenant on his way from the right. "Old Pigey has just had three staving swigs from his flask, and they are all getting ready. There goes 'Tommy Totten,'" as the bugle call for "forward" is familiarly called in the army.

Our course was continued to the left--two regiments marching abreast--until we neared a main road leading westward from the town. In the meantime the movement had attracted the Rebel fire, and at the last cross street a poor fellow of the 2--th Regiment was almost cut in two by a shell which passed through the ranks of our Regiment and exploded upon the other side of the street, but without doing further damage. At the main road we filed to the right, and amid dashing Staff officers and orderlies, wounded men and fragments of regiments broken and disorganized, proceeded on our way to the front. There was a slight depression in the road, enough to save the troops, and shot and shell sang harmlessly above our heads. When the head of the column--really its rear--as we were left in front, was abreast of a swampy strip of meadow land, at the further end of which was a tannery, our Brigade filed again to the right. The occupation of this meadow appeared to be criminally purposeless, as our line of attack was upon the left of the road; while it was in full view and at the easy range of a few hundred yards from a three-gun Rebel battery. The men were ordered to lie down, which they did as best they could from the nature of the ground, while the mounted officers of the Division and Brigade gathered under the shelter of the brick tannery building.

The movement was scarcely over, before one head and then another appeared peering through the embrasures of the earthwork, then a mounted officer upon a lively sorrel cantered as if for observation a short distance to the left of the work. Some sharpshooters in our front, protected slightly by the ground which rose gently towards the west, tried their breech-loaders upon him. At 450 yards there was certainty enough in the aim to make the music of their bullets unpleasant, and he again sought the cover of the work. An upright puff of smoke,--then a large volumed puff horizontally,--shrill music in its short flight,--a dull, heavy sound as the shell explodes in the soft earth under our ranks,--and one man thrown ten feet into the air, fell upon his back in the ranks behind him, while his two comrades on his left were killed outright, his Lieutenant near by mortally wounded, a leg of his comrade on the right cut in two, and a dozen in the neighborhood bespattered with the soft ground and severely contused. Shells that exploded in the air above us, or screamed over our heads; rifle balls that whizzed spitefully near, were now out of consideration. The motions of loading and firing, and as we were in the line of direction, the shell itself, could be seen with terrible distinctness. There was the dread certainty of death at every discharge. All eyes were turned toward the battery, and at each puff, the "bravest held his breath" until the smothered explosion announced that the danger was over. From our front ranks, who had gradually crept up the side of the hill, an incessant fire was kept up; but the pieces could be worked with but little exposure, and it was harmless. Fortunately the shells buried themselves deeply before exploding, and were mainly destructive in their direct passage. Again the horseman cantered gaily to his former place of observation on the left; but our sharpshooters had the range, and his fine sorrel was turned to the work limping very discreditably. This trifling injury was all that we could inflict in return for the large loss of life and limb.

"Well, Lieutenant, poor John is gone!" said the little Irish Corporal, coming to the side of that officer.

"What, killed?"

"Ivery bit of it. I have just turned him over, and shure he is as dead as he was before he was born. That last shot murthered the boy. It is Terence McCarthy that will do his duty by him, and may be----"

"Corporal! to your post," broke in the Lieutenant. "Old Pigey is taking another pull at the flask, and we will move in a minute."

The surmise of the Lieutenant was correct. "Tommy Totten" again called the men to ranks, and right in front, the head of the column took the pike on another advance. The Rebels seeing the movement, handled their battery with great rapidity and dexterity, and shells in rapid succession were thrown into the closed ranks, but without creating confusion. Among others, a Major of the last Regiment upon the road, an old Mexican campaigner, and a most valuable officer, fell mortally wounded just as he was about leaving the field, and met the fate, that by one of those singular premonitions before noticed in this chapter,--so indicative by their frequency of a connexion in life between man's mortal and immortal part,--he had already anticipated.

It was now about four o'clock in the afternoon. The day was somewhat misty, and at this time the field of battle was fast becoming shrouded by the commingled mist and smoke.

On the left of the road the Brigade formed double line of battle along the base and side of a rather steep slope which led to the plateau above. The ground was muddy and well trodden, and littered with dead bodies in spots that marked the localities of exploded shells. Hungry and fatigued with the toil of the day, yet expectant of a conflict which must prove the death scene of many, the men sank upon their arms. From this same spot, successive lines of battle had charged during the day. Brave souls! With rushing memories of home and kindred and friends, they shrank not because the path of duty was one of danger.

We were there as a forlorn hope for the final effort of the field. With great exertion and consummate skill upon the part of its Commander, a battery had been placed in position on the summit of the slope. Officers and men worked nobly, handling the pieces with coolness and rapidity. What they accomplished, could not be seen. What they suffered, was frightfully apparent. Man after man was shot away, until in some instances they were too weak-handed to keep the pieces from following their own recoil down the slope, confusing our ranks and bruising the men. Volunteers sprang forward to assist in working the guns. The gallant Commander, almost unaided, kept order in what would otherwise have been a mingled herd of confused men and frightened horses. No force could withstand the hurricane of hurtling shot and shell that swept the summit.

"Lieutenant, take command of that gun," was the short, sharp, nervous utterance of a General of Division, as in one of his tours of random riding he suddenly stopped his horse in front of a boy of nineteen, a Lieutenant of infantry, who previously to bringing his squad of men into service, a few brief months before, had never seen a full battery.

"Sir!" he replied, in unfeigned astonishment.

"By G--d! sir, I command you as the Commanding General of this Division, sir, to take command of that piece of artillery."

"General, I am entirely unacquainted with----"

"Take command of that piece, sir. You should be ready to enter any arm of the service," replied the General, flourishing his sword in a threatening manner.

"General, I will do my duty; but I can't sight a cannon, sir. I will hand cartridge, turn the screw, steady the wheel, or I'll ram----"

"Ram--ram!"--echoed the General with an oath, and off he started on another of his mad rides.

"Fall in," was passed rapidly along the line, and a moment after our Brigadier, cool as if exercising his command in the evolutions of a peaceful field, rode along the ranks.

"Boys, you are ordered to take that stone wall, and must do it with the bayonet."

Words full of deadly import to men who for long hours had been in full view of the impregnable works, and the field of blood in their front. Ominous as was the command, it was greeted with cheers; and with bayonets at a charge, up that difficult slope,--preserving their line as best they could while breaking to pass the guns, wounded and struggling horses, and bodies thickly strewn over that most perilous of positions for artillery,--the troops passed at a rapid step. The ground upon the summit had been laid out in small lots, as is customary in the suburbs of towns. Many of the partition fences were still remaining, with here and there gaps, or with upper rails lowered for the passage of troops. For a moment, while crossing these fallow fields, there was a lull in the direct musketry. The enfilading fire from batteries right and left still continued; the fierce fitful flashes of the bursting shells becoming more visible with the approach of night. Onward we went, picking our way among the fallen dead and wounded of Brigades who had preceded us in the fight, with feet fettered with mud, struggling to keep place in the line. Several regiments lying upon their arms were passed over in the charge.

"Captain," said a mounted officer when we had just crossed a fence bounding what appeared to be an avenue of the town, "close up on the right." The Captain partly turned, to repeat the command to his men, when the bullets from a sudden flash of waving fire that for the instant lit up the summit of the stone wall for its entire length, prostrated him with a mortal wound, and dismounted his superior. Pity that his eye should close in what seemed to be the darkest hour of the cause dearest to his soul!

Volley after volley of sheeted lead was poured into our ranks. We were in the proper position on the plain, and a day's full practice gave them exact range and terrible execution. In the increased darkness, the flashes of musketry alone were visible ahead, while to the right and left the gloom was lit up by the lurid flashing of their batteries. This very darkness, in concealing the danger, and the loss, doubtless did its share in permitting the men to cross the lines of dead that marked the halting-place of previous troops. Still onward they advanced,--the thunder of artillery above them,--the groans of the wounded rising from below;--frightful gaps are made in their ranks by exploding shells, and many a brave boy staggers and falls to rise no more, in that storm of spitefully whizzing lead.

Regularity in ranks was simply impossible. Many officers and men gathered about a brick house on the right--a narrow lawn leading directly to the fatal wall was crowded; indeed, caps bearing the regimental numbers were found, as has since been ascertained, close by the wall, and a Lieutenant who was stunned in the fight and fell almost at its base, was taken prisoner. Nearly every officer who had entered the fight mounted, was at this time upon foot. In the tempest of bullets that everywhere prevailed the destruction of the force was but a question of brief time, and to prevent further heroic but vain sacrifices the order to retire was given. With the Brigade, the Regiment fell back, leaving one-third of its number in dead and wounded to hallow the remembrance of that fatal field.

"This way, Pap! This is the way to get out safe," shouted a Captain as he rose, from the rear of a pile of rubbish, amid the laughter of the men now on their backward move. The burly form of the exhorting Colonel was seen to follow the no less burly form of the Captain, and father and son were spared for other fields.

An effort was made to reform after the firing had slackened, but the increased darkness prevented the marshalling of the thinned ranks. Out of range of the still not infrequent bullets and occasional shell, and drowsy from fatigue, the men again lay upon their arms at the foot of the slope; and the battle of Fredericksburg was over.

What happened upon the left, where the main battle should have been fought, and why Franklin was upon the left at all, are problems that perhaps the reader can pass upon to better advantage than the writer of these pages. His "corner of the fight" has been described, truthfully at least, whatever the other failings may be.

We had left the field; but the Rebels had not as yet gained it. Pickets were thrown out to within eighty yards of their line, and details scattered over the field to bear off the wounded. No lights were allowed, and the least noise was sure to bring a shell or a shower of bullets. In consequence, their removal was attended with difficulty. The evil of the practice too prevalent among company commanders, of sending skulkers and worthless men in obedience to a detail for the ambulance corps, was now horribly apparent. Large numbers of the dead, and even the dying, were found with their pockets turned inside out, rifled of their contents by these harpies in uniform.

But little rest was to be had that night. At 8 P. M. the troops were marched back into the town, only to be brought out again at midnight and re-formed in line of battle about a hundred yards distant from the wall. The moon had now risen, and in its misty light the upturned faces of the dead lost nothing of ghastliness. Horrible, too, beyond description--ringing in the ears of listeners for a lifetime--were the shrieks and groans of the wounded,--principally Rebel,--from a strip of neutral ground lying between the pickets of the two armies. Whatever the object of reforming line of battle may have been, it appears to have been abandoned, as after a short stay we were returned to the town and assigned quarters in the street in front of the Planters' House.

Fredericksburg was a town of hospitals. All the churches and public buildings, very many private residences, and even the pavements in their respective fronts, were crowded with wounded. In one of the principal churches on a lower street, throned in a pulpit which served as a dispensary, and surrounded by surgical implements and appliances, flourished our little Dutch Doctor, never more completely in his element. Very nice operations, as he termed them, were abundant.

"How long can I live?" inquired a fine-looking, florid-faced young man of two-and-twenty, with a shattered thigh, who had just been brought in and had learned from the Doctor that amputation could not save his life.

"Shust fifteen minutes," was the reply, as the Doctor opened and closed his watch in a cold, business way.

"Can I see a Chaplain?"

"Shaplain! Shaplain! eh? Shust one tried to cross, and he fell tead on bridge. Not any follow him, I shure you. Too goot a chance to die, for Shaplains. What for you want him? Bray, eh?"

The dying man, folding his hands upon his breast, nodded assent.

"Ver well, I bray," and at the side of the stretcher the Doctor kneeled, and with fervid utterance, and in the solemn gutturals of the German, repeated the Lord's prayer. When he arose to resume his labor, the soldier was beyond the reach of earthly supplication; but a smile was upon his countenance.

The Sabbath, with the main body of our troops, was a day of rest. Chance shots from Rebel sharpshooters, who had crept to within long range of the cross streets, were from time to time heard, and shell occasionally screamed over the town. To ears accustomed to the uproar of the preceding days, however, they were not in the least annoying. Over one-half of the army were comfortably housed, bringing into requisition for their convenience the belongings and surroundings of the abandoned dwellings. Notwithstanding our slow approach, the evidences of hasty exit on the part of the inhabitants were abundant on all sides. Warehouses filled with flour and tobacco were duly appreciated by the men, while parlors floored in Brussels, and elegantly ornamented, were in many instances wantonly destroyed.

"Tom," said a non-commissioned officer, addressing a private whom we have before met in these pages, "where did you get that box?"

"Get it? Why I confiscated it. Just look at the beauties," and opening a fine mahogany case, Tom disclosed a pair of highly finished duelling pistols.

"What right have you to confiscate it?" retorted the Sergeant.

"It is contraband of war, and Rebel property. Record evidence of that. Just look at this letter found with it," and Tom pulled out of an inside pocket of his blouse a letter written in a most miserable scrawl, assuring some "Dear Capting" of

"Here's my heart and here's my hand, For the man who fit for Dixy land."

Monday passed in much the same manner. About 9 P. M. of that day the Regiment, with others, was employed in throwing up breastworks, and digging rifle-pits on the west of the town. Expecting to hold it on the morrow against what they knew would be a terrible artillery fire, the men worked faithfully, and by midnight, works strong as the ground would admit of, were prepared. It was a perilous work; performed in the very face of the enemy's pickets;--but was only an extensive ruse, as at 1 A. M. we were quietly withdrawn and assigned a position in the left of the town. The sidewalks were muddy, and disengaging shutters from the windows, loose boards from fences,--anything to keep them above the mud,--the men composed themselves for slumber. Before 2 o'clock an excited Staff officer had the Brigade again in line, and after moving and halting until 4 A. M., we crossed the lower bridge in much lighter order than when we entered the place; for notwithstanding urgent solicitations of officers, from Brigadier down, permission was refused the men to obtain their knapsacks. Besides the loss of several thousand dollars to the Government in blankets and overcoats, hundreds of valuable knapsacks, and even money in considerable sums, were lost to the men. The matter is all the more disgraceful when we consider the abundance of time, and the fact, that details had been sent by the Colonels to arrange the knapsacks upon the sidewalk, in order that they could be taken up while the command would pass. It was marched by another route, however, and in the cold, pelting rain, the men, while marching up the opposite slopes of the Rappahannock, had ample reason to reflect upon the cold forethought that could crowd a Head-quarters' train, and deprive them of their proper allowance of clothing. Six hours later, our Division had the credit of furnishing about the only booty left by the army that the Rebels found upon their reöccupation of the town.

Sadly and quietly, the troops retrod the familiar mud of their old camp grounds. The movement had been a failure--a costly one in private and national sacrifices,--and no one felt it more keenly than the broad-shouldered, independent, and much injured Burnside. Strange that this costly sacrifice should have been offered up on ground hallowed in our early struggle for freedom--that the bodies of our brave volunteers, stripped by traitor hands, should lie naked on the plain that bears a monument to that woman of many virtues, "Mary, the mother of Washington"--that ground familiar to the early boyhood of the Great Patriot, should have been the scene of one of the noblest, although unsuccessful, contests of the war. Fit altar for such a sacrifice! A shrine for all time of devout patriots, who will here renew their vows,--of fidelity to this God-given Government,--of eternal enmity to traitors,--and thus consecrate to posterity the heavy population we have left in the Valley.