PART XII.

CHANCELLORSVILLE, TO WINTER CAMP OF 1863-1864.

General Hooker had conceived a corps formation of all the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac, instead of scattering it by details among the various corps and divisions where its usefulness was frittered away; and where it was generally out-numbered and beaten by the enemy, who had consolidated their cavalry forces long before.

The spring campaign of 1863 was opened on April thirteenth by the departure of General Stoneman with ten thousand cavalry for the upper fords of the Rappahannock which he was to cross, turning the enemy's left, destroying the railroads and severing his connection with Richmond. But the cavalry moved so cautiously, or leisurely, that they consumed three days in marching twenty-five miles to the ford, where they were overtaken by a heavy rain-storm, which swelled the river so they could not cross and did not do so until the twenty-ninth at Ely's Ford, along with infantry and artillery. Before the crossing was accomplished all chance of a surprise was lost and the large cavalry force was able to inflict only trifling damage on the enemy's communications.

I was ordered to issue eight days' short rations to the brigade, which the men were obliged to stow away in their haversacks and knapsacks as best they could, besides some extra rounds of ammunition in addition to that in their cartridge boxes. Thus, loaded up more heavily than ever before, without any wagon-train (except to carry ammunition and forage) and without any regimental baggage or tents for officers, the army began its march on April twenty-seventh. General Hooker had divided the army into two parts: the Fifth, Eleventh and Twelfth Corps marched to Chancellorsville above Fredericksburg, by way of Kelly's Ford on the Rappahannock and the Germanna and Ely's Ford on the Rapidan river: the First and Sixth Corps were to cross the Rappahannock below Fredericksburg; the Third Corps was held in reserve, but a few days later was sent to Chancellorsville where General Hooker himself was in command.

The Fifth Corps supply train remained in camp about three days longer and then was ordered to the United States Ford at the Rappahannock, where the wagons were parked on the high ground on the north side overlooking the river and pontoon bridge. The opposite side of the river was a mass of woods and tangled brush, a wilderness so far as eye could reach. We could plainly hear the firing on the other side of the river and sometimes observe the smoke of battle rising above the trees. We heard Jackson's onslaught on the unfortunate Eleventh Corps on May second, and General Sickles's midnight battle. The fighting on Sunday, May third, seemed near the river. The white canvas covers of our wagons must have been visible to the Rebels, for one morning at daylight I was awakened by shells from a section of a Rebel battery on the south side of the river, crashing through our train and exploding in the woods beyond. They struck only one of my wagons before they were quickly silenced by one of our batteries nearby.

On the morning of May fourth, I was ordered to issue a day's rations to the brigade, and as no supply wagons were allowed to cross the river, they were to be packed on mules. Neither Lieutenant Greeley, the wagonmaster, nor I understood anything about packing mules. Fortunately we discovered a few men among the teamsters who had had some experience in that line; but we had no pack-saddles. We used the teamsters' riding saddles, as far as they went, and on the remainder of the mules we strapped blankets. We selected three or four dozen of the most docile animals from the train and loaded each one with two boxes of hardtack weighing about fifty pounds apiece, slung across his back, one box on either side. Others we loaded with sacks of bacon and bags of coffee and sugar. But the mules were as green at the business as we were, and most of them resented their treatment vigorously. When we succeeded in getting the load on them, they tried to roll it off, which disarranged it so we had to strap it on all over again, a man holding each mule to keep him from lying down.

After hours of labor, ill temper and strong language, I was at last ready to make a start with a detail from the train guard, one man to lead each pair of mules and a few extra men--teamsters--who best understood the packing. It was an odd-looking procession, in front of which I rode down the hill towards the pontoon bridge over the river, amidst the laughter and mirth of the spectators, and I wished that Lieutenant Greeley were leading the procession instead of me. Before I had gone fifty yards trouble began again. Through bad packing, some of the loads shifted forward on the mules' necks when going down hill; some of the animals fell and would not get up again with their loads on; they seemed to prefer to roll down the hill the rest of the way. All this delayed me very much and it was well past noon when the troop had passed the bridge and entered the woods on the other side.

I was instructed to follow the United States Ford road until I came to an intersecting road about two miles or more away, near which the Fifth Corps was posted. The road was level and shady and I got along fairly well, until I reached a short piece of road which skirted a ravine, lined with our troops behind breast-works. Here my little train must have been observed by the enemy, as the road was higher at this point than the breast-works, for they opened on us with some guns, before we had all passed this exposed spot. There was confusion at once. The men leading the mules rushed into the woods with them on the right side of the road. Only a few shots were fired and no damage done; but it took me more than an hour to gather the train again and re-pack the mules that had stripped their burden in going through the brushwood. At last I found my command and issued the rations. It was an hour or more until sun-down, and I deemed it best to wait until dark to return, so as not run the gauntlet of the Rebel battery again, and sought out my regiment, which was stationed parallel to the Ely Ford road behind log breast-works which had been constructed the previous night. I learned from my comrades that Captain S. S. Marsh was the only man killed on May first and that twenty or more men had been wounded on that and subsequent days. Just about sun-down I saw General Hooker, followed by some of his staff, walking very slowly down the road behind the breast-works. The General had been injured the previous day (and could not ride a horse, I believe) at the Chancellor house from a contusion caused by a cannon shot which struck a veranda pillar near which he had been standing. He was a fine and impressive figure, walking slowly, bare-headed, carrying his hat in his hand. Shortly after, I returned with my train of mules and reached the camp without further trouble.

The next day passed with little firing heard at the front. On the following day, May fifth, all the supply trains were ordered to return to their old camps near Fredericksburg. We started on the return march in the afternoon. Towards evening a rain-storm came on, such as I have seldom witnessed; it seemed like a cloud-burst--the rain came down in sheets. In a few minutes my riding boots, which reached almost to my knees, were filled with water and were over-flowing. The storm still raged when we reached our camp. During this night the army retreated across the Rappahannock, Sykes's regulars again covering the retreat and being the last to cross about eight o'clock next morning, unmolested by the enemy. The pontoon bridges were immediately taken up under the menacing protection of our batteries on the hills, and for the third time the army marched back to its old camps.

Historians agree that General Hooker's plan for an offensive battle was masterly and skillful, and everything pointed to success until, on the first day of May, after he had advanced to within a few miles of Banks' Ford and had but two divisions of the enemy confronting him, he suddenly decided to fight a defensive battle and marched back to Chancellorsville to take up an inferior and more perilous position with one of his flanks in the air. From that time on, it is said, his conduct was faulty and feeble, and the corps commanders despised his generalship. The army was forced to retreat, not because it was beaten, as at Fredericksburg under Burnside--it had not even been all engaged at Chancellorsville--but through the weak and vacillating conduct of its commander.

Coincident with the return of the army from Chancellorsville, its numbers were considerably reduced by the expiration of service of a number of men who had been enlisted for two years only. Few recruits joined, enlistments in the Northern states had fallen off alarmingly, and the enforcement of a draft began to be talked of. This was the darkest period of the rebellion for the Union, and an exultant one for the Confederacy. Among the regiments which we lost in our Third Brigade was the Fifth New York Volunteers, known as the Duryee Zouaves. About two hundred of the men who originally left New York in 1861 were now discharged and had left for home, their departure much regretted by the regulars, with whom they had served so long and so creditably. General Sykes complimented them highly in the general order for their departure. The remainder of this regiment, composed of three-year men, was transferred to the One Hundred and Forty-sixth New York Volunteers serving in the same brigade, and the Fifth New York Volunteers ceased to exist.

The two armies confronted each other for weeks in their former positions and the dreary camp life went on without any interesting events. We continued watching each other, until General Lee took the initiative on the third of June by sending some of General Longstreet's Corps to Culpeper, preparatory to his contemplated invasion of the North. Our cavalry, much reduced in numbers and now commanded by General Pleasonton, was ordered to make a reconnaissance in that direction, and on June eighth had a successful encounter with the enemy's cavalry at Brandy Station.

All became activity again in the Army of the Potomac. The march began on the tenth, some corps leaving on different days and by divers routes. The Fifth Corps left on the fourteenth, following the familiar route by way of Bealton, Warrenton and Manassas on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, which we had traversed the previous year on our way to reinforce Pope. Then we inclined toward the Blue Ridge, where the Rebel Army was marching north through the Shenandoah Valley, and at Aldie we began to hear firing, as our cavalry skirmished with the enemy at the mountain gaps of the valley. We passed Leesburg on our way to Edwards Ferry, where we crossed the Potomac on a pontoon bridge into Maryland and arrived near Frederick City about the twenty-seventh of June. The weather was very hot and we made long marches. I issued rations several times while on the march and re-filled the empty wagons at Manassas. The route of the train was not always the same as that of the troops and we did some night marching to make up for lost time at Manassas.

Some-one had given me a puppy, while in the winter camp near Fredericksburg, which I had raised. He was then more than six months old, and was much attached to me, following me on the march. When tired, he would beg to be lifted up and ride on the saddle in front of me. He hated to swim across streams which we forded and insisted on crossing them on horse-back. When we arrived at the Monocacy river, which we forded a few miles from Frederick City, our supply train, which had partly passed, was stopped to allow a battery of our artillery to cross ahead of the balance of the train. The river was several feet deep, had a swift current and a gravelly bottom. I sat on my horse on the river-bank, watching the battery cross, and listening to the crunching noise the heavy wheels made in the stony river-bed, when something about our train on the other side caused me to plunge in hastily and cross without paying any attention to my dog, who had his forepaws on my stirrup and was waiting to be pulled up. I heard him bark behind me, and when I had crossed I turned around and saw him swimming after me; but the current carried him toward one of the passing gun carriages. He disappeared for a moment among the wheels and then came up on the other side, emitting unearthly yells. He succeeded in reaching the shore, and when he left the water I noticed that all but a few inches of his tail had been pinched off. He gave me a reproachful look and started up a road like a streak. I galloped after him, calling and coaxing him, but he ran on howling and paid no attention to me. After chasing him for half a mile, he ran into a thicket where I could not follow. I never saw him again. I felt very sorry to lose him.

We remained at Frederick City for two days, receiving and issuing rations. There was some militia there, hastily called out and badly armed--some of them with shot-guns. The Seventh Regiment National Guard of New York City was also there for another thirty days' war experience, and was guarding Government stores at the railroad depot. They looked very jaunty in their neat and unsoiled uniforms, some of them wearing paper collars, forming a striking contrast to the bronzed and begrimed veterans of the Army of the Potomac, from whom the Seventh had to endure much good-natured chaffing in passing.

General Hooker, like McClellan in the Sharpsburg campaign, requested the then useless garrison of ten thousand men at Harper's Ferry to be added to his command in the pursuit of Lee's army, and was refused by the autocratic General Halleck, whose chief concern seemed to be the safety of Washington; and, finding himself generally thwarted in his plans by the authorities in Washington, he requested to be relieved of the command. On June twenty-eighth, while still at Frederick City, Major General George G. Meade of the Fifth Army Corps was appointed as the commander of the Army of the Potomac. General Hooker was sent to the West, where he gained some fame from his "battle above the clouds" at Lookout Mountain.

General Meade was a man of personal bravery and experience, highly respected, but not very popular in the army. However, the Army of the Potomac was loyal to him, as it had been to all its commanders, and the soldiers proved their loyalty by tremendous sacrifices. It has been said that this fine army was always better than its commanders, of whom General Meade was the fifth within less than two years. McDowell, McClellan, Burnside and Hooker preceded him; Pope had commanded only a part of the army at the second Bull Run. I have always held the opinion that, if the unfortunate Army of the Potomac could have had General William T. Sherman for its commander in its earlier days, the war would have terminated successfully for the North much sooner, providing he had been given a free hand to plan his own campaigns.

Although it was a delicate time to change commanders in the presence of the enemy, not a ripple occurred to disturb the harmony or movements of the army. General Meade was a favorite with General Halleck and took it upon himself to break up the garrison at Harper's Ferry, which had been denied to Hooker, and no notice was taken of his action at Washington. On June twenty-ninth the army, which had been chiefly concentrated at Frederick, was put into motion on several roads towards Gettysburg.

General Meade's promotion caused some changes in the Fifth Army Corps; General Sykes became the corps commander; General Romeyn B. Ayres commanded the Second (Regular) Division; Colonel Hannibal Day the First, and Colonel Sidney Burbank the Second Brigade. The Third (Volunteer) Brigade was in command of General Stephen H. Weed. All of these commanders were good and experienced officers, who had served in the army before the war.

The supply train of the Fifth Corps followed the troops as far as Westminster, about twenty miles southeast of Gettysburg, where there was a branch railroad, connecting with the main road from Baltimore to Harrisburg. An engagement with Stuart's cavalry had taken place at Westminster on the previous day, and some dead horses were still strewn along the road and the streets of the town. The train was kept at Westminster during the three days' battle at Gettysburg, it is said, because General Meade intended to fall back to the strong line of Pipe Creek, not far from Westminster, had he been unsuccessful. On the third day of the battle we could hear very plainly the firing of the two hundred and thirty guns, which preceded General Pickett's famous charge that afternoon. On the evening of the third of July the supply train left Westminster and, after traveling all night, arrived at Gettysburg on July fourth and halted in the rear of Little Round Top, as near to the Fifth Corps as we could get. Here I issued rations to our brigade and when that was completed I left my horse with the train and ascended Little Round Top to view the great battle-field. It commenced to rain hard soon after and continued to do so all day. My view was very limited, owing to the rain, but I could see burying parties at work in some of the places where fierce fighting had taken place.

When I found my regiment I learned that Lieutenant Goodrich had been killed, three officers wounded, five soldiers killed and about fifty wounded. The losses in the Fifth Corps had been very heavy on the second day's battle. The corps had arrived on the field early that morning.

The Fourth of July passed quietly, both armies holding their positions, but General Lee was sending his trains away; and on the morning of the fifth General Meade found that the Rebel Army had disappeared--the same thing that had happened to McClellan at Antietam. General Lee retreated rapidly by the shortest route to Williamsport on the Potomac, where he found his pontoon bridges destroyed and the river so high from recent rains as to be unfordable. General Meade pursued leisurely by a much longer route. This gave the Rebels at least four days' time to take up a strong position and fortify it, when they discovered that they could not cross the Potomac.

The Fifth Corps left Gettysburg on the afternoon of the fifth of July and moved by way of Emmitsburg and Middletown across the South Mountain range at Fox's Gap to Williamsport, where it arrived about the eleventh. Part of this route was familiar to us, as we had gone over it the previous year. General Meade directed a strong reconnaissance to be made on the morning of the fourteenth, which developed the fact that the enemy had slipped across the Potomac during the previous night. The authorities at Washington were angry at the escape of the enemy without another battle; and the army, whose hopes had been raised to a high pitch by their victory at Gettysburg, grumbled audibly. General Meade wrote to General Halleck asking to be relieved of the command of the Army of the Potomac, but his request was not granted. Military critics claim that in allowing Lee to escape from Gettysburg and again at Williamsport, General Meade missed the greatest opportunity of the war to rout the Rebel Army and end the struggle nearly two years sooner.

My horse, which had become a great pet, grew fat while traveling through the rich farming lands of Maryland and Pennsylvania, where there was an abundance of the finest clover and corn. On night marches I often snatched a little sleep along the road by leaning forward in the saddle, resting my head on his neck and encircling it with my arms. Sometimes I fell asleep sitting up straight in the saddle when slowly jogging along, until awakened by a low branch of a roadside tree brushing my face or knocking off my cap. At such times the horse seemed to be asleep also, and moved along mechanically.

The people in this section treated the soldiers kindly; some women baked bread and biscuits to give away; others sold us bread, butter, eggs and pies at most reasonable prices. And how good that bread tasted! I remember reporting for orders at brigade headquarters camp one evening when the officers were having supper and overhearing the General remark that he would like to marry the woman who baked the bread he was eating, no matter what her looks might be. In some of the small villages and farmhouses the natives understood but little English and spoke only Pennsylvania Dutch.

General Meade put the army in motion on the fifteenth of July for Harper's Ferry, where we crossed the Potomac, and I had an opportunity to see John Brown's Fort. Some of the troops crossed at Berlin, about six miles below. We marched east of the Blue Ridge, over much of the same road McClellan had traveled the previous fall, while the Rebels passed down the Shenandoah Valley, guarding all the passes. At Manassas Gap the Confederates were overtaken and an attempt was made to bring on an engagement, which resulted in a lively skirmish until darkness came on, but next morning the enemy had disappeared. We resumed our march leisurely, by way of Warrenton, and about the sixth of August went into permanent camp at Beverly Ford on the Rappahannock, drawing our supplies from Culpeper on the Orange and Alexandria railroad.

While on this march, near Centreville, we noticed a horse in a field some distance off the road. His condition was deplorable, he hobbled most painfully, and I suppose the greater part of the army had seen him in passing, but no one cared to have such a lame and sorry-looking animal. One of my men was curious enough to go out into the field to look at him, and discovered that his foot was wedged fast into an empty tomato can; and when that was removed he was no longer lame. The horse was cleaned and fed and became a useful extra riding-horse. He was known by the name of "Centreville."

About this time we read in the papers about serious riots in New York city called the "Draft Riots." Congress had passed an act to enroll all available citizens of the loyal states for military duty, to enable the states to furnish their quota, when called upon for additional troops by the Government. Names were to be drawn by lottery, and each man so drawn was to serve in the army or furnish an acceptable substitute. This had to be done; all the two-year volunteers had been discharged and, after the defeats at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, there were few voluntary enlistments. The regulars were unable to obtain any recruits to fill up their skeleton regiments, owing to county and town bounties offered for volunteers. The riots in New York had been controlled for the time being, but there was much uneasiness in the city as to what would occur when the actual drawing of names began, for the Government needed soldiers and was bound to enforce the draft. It was therefore decided to send the two small brigades of regulars and a few volunteer regiments to New York city to report there for duty to General John A. Dix, commanding the Department of the East.

Accordingly on August thirteenth the troops destined for New York city, under the command of General R. B. Ayres, left their camps for Alexandria, some of the soldiers going on freight-cars from Culpeper, while others marched with the supply train to Alexandria. On our arrival there, after issuing rations, I was ordered to turn over all Government property to the depot commissary, make out transfers and take receipts for it for Lieutenant Greeley. It cost me a severe pang to part with my horse Tommy, to whom I had become much attached. He was so gentle that often after a hard march when he was unsaddled and fed he would lie on the grass and I would lie down with him, resting my head on his neck and we would both go to sleep.

My little staff of assistants was dispersed and sent to their companies; and so was I, but not to do duty with them, only to be accounted for. I was still brigade commissary sergeant and was to be at Lieutenant Greeley's call when needed. We had to wait for transportation in Alexandria, where my regiment was on a block in a private street. We stacked arms in the street, and in the daytime sat on the curbstone under the shade trees or loafed about the neighborhood. We did our cooking by little fires in the street and at night lay down on the brick sidewalks in front of the houses. This we did for two nights. Fortunately it did not rain. In the house before which my company was stationed there were some ladies who had a piano and they sang secession songs after dark; and we retaliated by singing all the Union songs we knew. They kept their blinds closed and we saw none but negro servants enter or leave the house while we were there. On the third day we marched to the wharf and embarked on a freight steamer--the worst old tub I was ever on! As usual, we were crowded and I preferred to remain on deck and camped near one of the masts. This steamer was a very slow propeller. The weather was fine and we got along fairly well down the Potomac and the Chesapeake Bay, until we passed the Capes and entered the Atlantic, when we discovered that she was a high-roller and hadn't ballast enough. Soon more than half of the command was seasick. The ship had no bulwarks, only an open pipe railing through which it would be quite easy to roll over-board. As I was not seasick I remained on deck, taking the precaution to tie myself to the mast in the night-time. We were a long time getting to New York, where we arrived in the middle of the day and landed at a dock at the foot of Canal Street.

Parts of our brigades, who were on faster boats, had arrived on the preceding day. The command was scattered throughout the city; some regiments encamped in Battery Park; others in Washington, Union, Madison and Tompkins Squares. Some companies were stationed on the upper part of Fourth Avenue along the New Haven Railroad tracks and elsewhere. My regiment and another encamped on the block bounded by Fifth and Sixth Avenues, Forty-eighth and Forty-ninth Streets. This block was vacant except for a row of four-story buildings on the Sixth Avenue side, still standing. The block had been filled in and graded fairly level a few feet above the street, and had a picket fence on the other three sides. There were few houses in the neighborhood; close by, on Fifth Avenue, were the foundations of St. Patrick's Cathedral which had just been begun. The nearest horse-car line was on Sixth Avenue, where we noticed an occasional car, smaller than the others and painted yellow, bearing a sign in large letters, on either side of the car, which read: "Colored people allowed in this car."

We left the dock at Canal Street during the afternoon and marched up-town by way of Hudson Street, up Sixth Avenue to our destination at Fifth Avenue and Forty-ninth Street, where the men were obliged to sleep on the ground without tents that night. I went to my home. We still had our band, though reduced in numbers. It played during our march uptown, and we had many spectators and the usual juvenile following. We did not look as pretty as the militia the people had been accustomed to see; we were sunburnt, dirty and ragged-looking; but, nevertheless, we received many cheers on the way. The arrival of the soldiers from the Army of the Potomac restored peace of mind to many people in New York and allayed their fears of rioting and destruction of property, while enforcing the draft. No disturbance occurred while that went on; if there had been, the rioters would have received a severe lesson, for we had no sympathy for them.

The next day was a busy one in camp; tents were received and put up; sinks were dug and a water supply arranged for; and guards were posted at the gates to keep the soldiers in and the overwhelming public out. Crowds of people, who seemed to have nothing else to do, lined the fence and crowded the sidewalks from reveille to tattoo, watching the soldiers. In the afternoons the nursery-maids with their baby carriages appeared, and were made love to by the soldiers on the other side of the fence and forgot their charges. At sunset, when dress parade took place and the band played, the sidewalks around the camp were impassable. At night such of the soldiers as were fortunate enough to possess any money and had not obtained a pass jumped the low fence where it was not guarded and remained away until the small hours. The commander was liberal in granting daily passes to a certain number to be absent from camp.

Lieutenant Greeley made a contract with one of the many caterers who supplied food to the conscripts, substitutes and recruits while they were in the city to provide cooked rations for three meals per day for our brigade for the Government money value of a soldier's rations, as computed in New York city. This proved unsatisfactory from the start, the food being poor and insufficient and often cold--being served by wagons, and at irregular times. In a few days the contract was cancelled and each company drew its rations direct from the New York commissary on Stone Street, and were furnished cooking utensils and fire-wood to cook their own rations in camp. This proved to be another very interesting item to the loiterers about the camp, watching the cooking and serving of meals for the soldiers. Lieutenant Greeley gave me the names and addresses of a few prominent bakers in the city, whom I was to interview with regard to obtaining fresh bread for the brigade. Among them I found one named Wall, at that time located on the lower part of Sixth Avenue, or on Carmine Street, who agreed to give us eighteen ounces of good wholesome bread for the daily Government allowance of eighteen ounces of flour, or its money value--which offer was accepted. I now had no duties of any kind to perform, except to see that the baker kept up the weight of his loaves, and I was absolutely free to come and go, when and where I pleased, during our three weeks' stay in New York. I had some money with me, also some at home, where I had at times sent part of my pay. I took advantage of this short opportunity after the arduous field service to enjoy myself as much as possible.

The brigade's headquarters were in Madison Square, which at that time was enclosed by an iron fence set on a granite coping, and around this the crowds were even denser than in my own camp. Here the Fourteenth Infantry and some other troops were encamped. And here Lieutenant Greeley, to whom I reported almost daily, had his tent. The proprietors of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, opposite Madison Square, generously furnished meals for the officers in this camp free of charge during their stay. Sergeant William J. Milligan of the Sixth Infantry, who was acting as brigade quartermaster sergeant, and who was an old bunkie of mine at Governor's Island, had his tent here, where I slept much oftener than I did in my own camp. The tent was under a large tree, facing the main entrance of the hotel, and I believe that I can still point out the tree.

The drawing for conscripts to fill New York city's quota for the Government's call for troops was completed without any trouble, and one morning in September, after a three weeks' stay, we were ordered, much to our regret, to strike tents and prepare to return to the field again. A paymaster appeared in camp very early and gave us four month's pay, which was due us, and which, I believe, had been purposely withheld until the day of our departure. As we were not to leave until sometime in the afternoon, I had plenty of time to say good-by at home and farewell to my friend, Sergeant Milligan, for his regiment, the Sixth Infantry, was ordered to Fort Hamilton in New York Harbor and did not go to the field again during the war. All of the old infantry regiments--the Third, Fourth, Seventh and Tenth--all mere skeletons, were retained in the forts around New York. For some reason the Second Infantry, consisting of six companies, not half full, had to go back to the field again, along with the newer and larger regiments, the Eleventh, Twelfth, Fourteenth and Seventeenth Infantry.

We sat around, ready and waiting for the order to start, but it was well along towards evening before we left camp and marched down Sixth Avenue to Canal Street, the way we had come. Only about one-half of our officers marched with us; the others were probably having farewell dinners and knew that the steamer would not leave until daylight next morning. Many of our men did not have a cent when they arrived. The four months' pay was burning holes in their pockets, and they were tempted to have a little fling before going back to Virginia. The streets were packed with people and it was quite easy to dodge into the crowd and disappear quickly through the open door of some corner saloon without attracting the attention of the officers. By the time we reached Canal Street it was dusk and many slipped away before we reached the dock. When the roll was called, it was discovered that more than forty men were missing, among them the drum-major, Lovell, and one of the color sergeants, named McConnell, who had the regimental colors with him. A detail was sent out to round up the absentees; but after a search of several hours, they had only captured half a dozen. As many more came back of their own accord, in a more or less muddled condition, and when the steamer sailed in the morning about thirty men were still missing. All but two or three of these men rejoined the regiment about a week later in Alexandria. When they finished their spree, or their money gave out, they reported to the provost-marshal, who held them and sent them on. They had a hard time on the steamer with a disreputable lot of conscripts and substitutes, who were thievish and quarrelsome. The drum-major related that he was awakened on deck one night by a man going through his pockets. He said to the thief, "Friend, if you can find anything there, you are welcome to it!" Our colors remained for two days in a hotel on Canal Street, but were brought safely back. My regiment had to submit to a lot of jollying from the other troops about losing one of our colors in New York; but we never lost them to the enemy, neither did any other regular regiment in the Army of the Potomac. It was supposed that these men would all be tried by court-martial for absence without leave, but directly after our return to the field in the latter part of September, General Lee attempted a flank movement which kept our army very busy marching for some time. These were all good and faithful soldiers, and instead of a court-martial a general order was issued fining each man a month's pay.

The return trip of the regiment to Alexandria was uneventful. We had a better boat and made a quicker trip than we did going up to New York. The two regular brigades remained long enough in Alexandria to be refitted with a supply train and other necessities. I resumed my former duties under a new commissary officer, First Lieutenant James B. Sinclair of the Fourteenth United States Infantry. Of my former detail I had but one, all the others being new men. I could not get my old horse back and had to take another which was not nearly so good. The two brigades then joined the main army near Culpeper, about the time when the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps were withdrawn from the Army of the Potomac to serve in the West. The Rebel Army had also been reduced during the summer by sending Longstreet's corps to Tennessee.

When General Lee learned of the departure of two of our Army Corps, he put his troops in motion to turn our right flank and rear. This was the beginning of a campaign of manoeuvres between Generals Meade and Lee, like the moves in a game of chess. We crossed the Rappahannock and for about two weeks we marched and counter-marched along the familiar line of the Orange and Alexandria railroad, the supply trains along with the troops, until by forced marching we reached Centreville ahead of the enemy, where General Meade offered battle. General Lee retreated, however, south of the Rappahannock, destroying the railroad and burning the stations from Bristoe to the Rappahannock.

For some days we were prevented from following him by a heavy rainstorm which made Bull Run unfordable and pontoons had to be sent for. During these marches in the latter part of September, 1863, we passed one morning through the almost deserted small town of Brentsville, the county-seat of Prince William County, Virginia. The street in front of the court house was littered with books or records and bundles of papers which had been maliciously thrown out through the open door and windows, probably by some of our stragglers, or "coffee-coolers," as they were also called. I dismounted and examined some of the books which I found to contain mainly records of wills and transfers of property. Some of these books and papers were being carried off by passing soldiers who, when they examined them at the next halt, either threw them away or built fires with them. I picked up a few bundles of the papers and carried them with me until I got to camp, where I examined them. The greater part of them proved to be written consents from masters for his slaves, "Caesar and Dinah" or "Rastus and Lucy" to get married. No surnames seemed to be used for the slaves. Among the papers there was one, however, which interested me and is still in my possession. It is a writ for the arrest of William Murphy, as follows:

George the second by the grace of God of great Britain, France & Ireland, King Defender of the Faith & .c. To the sheriff of the County of _Prince William_ Greeting. We command You that You take _William Murphy_ ... if _he_ be found within your Bailivic and _him_ safely keep so that you have _his_ Body before our H Justices of our said County at the Court house of the said County on the _fourth monday_ ... in ... _July_ ... next to answer ... _Benjamin Grayson Gent of a plea of Trespass upon the Case, Damage ten pounds_ ... and have then there this writ witness Peter Wagener Clerk of our said Court at the Court house of aforesaid the _XXIII_ ... day of _June_ in the _XXVIth_ year of our reign 1752.

P. Wagener.

On the reverse side of the paper is this endorsement:

Not to be found within my Precinct.

John Crump

This paper, yellow with age but well preserved, is five by six inches in size. It is a coarsely executed pen blank with the words in italics inserted in fine clear penmanship. John Crump's endorsement is written in a good plain running hand.

* * * * *

The army now took up positions along the north bank of the Rappahannock, where we encamped for two weeks or more, while the railroad was being repaired; and during that time we had to haul supplies from Bristoe Station until the repairs brought them nearer. A number of skirmishes took place during the two weeks of manoeuvring, but no battles were fought.

While at this camp I witnessed the impressive sight of a military execution. A man from one of the new regular regiments had been sentenced by a general court-martial to be shot for desertion. Near sun-down the brigade was paraded and formed three sides of a square on a level field outside of the camp. At the open end of the square was a rude coffin and a newly made grave. Soon the prisoner and provost-guard approached, preceded by a band playing a dead march, passing through the square towards the coffin. There the prisoner, whose bearing was firm and steady, was blindfolded and made to kneel on the coffin. A firing party of eight took position in front of the condemned man at about ten paces. There was a breathless silence for a few minutes, then suddenly were heard the provost-marshal's commands, "Ready! Aim! Fire!" and the man fell forward over the coffin. A surgeon examined him and pronounced him dead; the brigade marched back to camp, and the man was buried in the grave prepared for him.

On the seventh day of November General Meade again put the army in motion to force the passage of the Rappahannock. At Rappahannock Station, where the Rebels were intrenched, there was a spirited engagement, when the Sixth Corps charged the works and captured about sixteen hundred prisoners with small loss to themselves. The Third Corps was also successful in forcing a passage at Kelly's Ford and capturing some four hundred prisoners. The Confederates, taken by surprise, retired during the night beyond Culpeper.

Next day the supply trains crossed at Kelly's Ford and the army went into camp from there to Brandy Station. The railroad had to be repaired as far as Brandy Station, and an important railroad bridge crossing the Rappahannock rebuilt, which consumed considerable time. We supposed that this was to be our winter camp, as the weather grew very bad and cold, as the season advanced, and the road became worse, but it was not to be so. The authorities at Washington, unmindful of the disastrous ending of Burnside's winter campaigns the previous year, urged upon General Meade to continue offensive operations. Accordingly General Meade on the twenty-sixth of November, after a severe storm, broke up the camps and started the army on its march to the fords of the Rapidan.

The Fifth Army Corps crossed the river on a pontoon bridge at a place called Culpeper Mine Ford on the same day, all of the supply trains, except some ammunition wagons, remaining on the north side of the river. On the twenty-eighth it was discovered that a surprise was out of the question, the enemy having concentrated all their forces in a strong position on the west bank of Mine Run.

General Warren, who had commanded the Second Corps since General Hancock had been wounded at Gettysburg, was ordered to make the main attack on the morning of the thirtieth. He made an early examination of the enemy's works and had the moral courage to suspend General Meade's order to attack, sending him word to that effect. This brought General Meade to make a personal examination, after which he agreed with General Warren as to the hopelessness of the attempt. The men of the Second Corps realized that they were to attack a position as hopeless as that at Marye's Heights at Fredericksburg and knew that few would escape. The night before the attack was to be made each man wrote his name, company and regiment on a piece of paper and pinned it to his clothing.

On the same night I was sent across the river with a few supply wagons and reached the front early in the forenoon, when I issued the rations and rested a few hours. I had a good view of a part of the Rebel position, which appeared very formidable, in front of the Fifth Corps. On my return march in the afternoon a cold rain-storm came on, turning to sleet; then it became so cold that my saturated clothing was frozen stiff before I reached camp. The sufferings of the soldiers before the enemy was dreadful. The next day General Meade decided that the campaign was a failure and began to withdraw the army, which recrossed the Rapidan unmolested and, thanks to General Warren, without a useless slaughter, as in the Burnside campaign of the previous winter.

This ended active operations in the Army of the Potomac for 1863. The troops established winter camps; the Fifth Corps guarded and was encamped along the line of the Orange and Alexandria railroad, by brigades stationed at intervals from Fairfax to Brandy Station. The headquarters of my brigade were at Noakesville Station, a small place no longer on the map. Colonel Burbank, who commanded the brigade, and staff occupied a large farm-house situated a few hundred yards east of the little station on a hill. A small two-story out-house was assigned to the brigade commissary and quartermaster departments. A few regiments of the brigade were encamped in the immediate vicinity, where they made themselves comfortable in their winter huts. I rigged up a store-house and, together with the quartermaster sergeant and our assistants, used the little two-story house as an office and for our sleeping quarters. The house had a good roof, a fireplace and chimney. There was plenty of wood and we were warm and comfortable. My horse was stabled along with the brigade staff horses in one of the farm stables.

The commissary depot for the Fifth Corps was at Catlett's Station, about five miles from our camp. I was sent there once a week with a wagon-train to draw supplies for the brigade, and was always accompanied by an infantry escort, as there were guerrillas about. One morning as I was starting off with my train, Captain Samuel A. McKee, of my regiment, and Lieutenant Edwin E. Sellers, of the Tenth United States Infantry, who, with an orderly, were going to Catlett's Station, asked me to ride with them in advance of my train. They soon began to ride very fast and I found that my horse could not keep up with theirs; frequently they were out of sight and I was a quarter of a mile behind in the lonely woods. Then I thought of the guerrillas, but we arrived safely at the station. About a week later, April eleventh, 1864, Captain McKee, accompanied by an orderly, made the same journey and was shot dead on his way to Catlett's; his body was found lying on the road, stripped of his arms and valuables and most of his clothing. The orderly escaped.

About this time many brevet ranks were conferred on officers--the greater part of them for gallantry in the field; others for efficiency in various lines of duty; and some for no particular reason that anyone could discover. So generous was the War Department in distributing brevet ranks that they seemed to lose dignity and sometimes became a joke. The army mule was dubbed a "brevet horse" and the camp follower became a "brevet soldier." Some officers were advanced several grades above their lineal rank by supplementary brevets. It was no uncommon occurrence to find a lieutenant who was a brevet major or colonel; and I know of a few cases where first lieutenants held the honorary rank of brigadier-general.

Lieutenant Sinclair, the commissary officer, was an easygoing, very pleasant man, much liked by both officers and soldiers. He was a first lieutenant and brevet major--a very brave officer, who had the peculiar experience of being wounded in the same leg in three different engagements, but never very seriously--each time able to resume his duties after being discharged from the hospital. He remained in the service for some years after the war. Lieutenant Sinclair was a New Yorker. He had been with the Singer Sewing Machine Co. before the war.

During this winter and spring a large number of recruits joined the Army of the Potomac, among them many conscripts and substitutes, who as a class were not the equals of volunteers of 1861 and 1862. The armies needed still more men and on February first President Lincoln ordered a draft for five hundred thousand men to be held on March tenth, and another on March fifteenth for two hundred thousand more, to be held April fifteenth, 1864. Recruiting for the regular army almost ceased, owing to the large bounties paid for substitutes, and the fact that the enlistments among the volunteers were only for three years, or the duration of the war. I had a short furlough at this time and spent four days very pleasantly in Washington with comrades of my regiment, who had been detailed as clerks in the War Department or were employed as civilians after their discharge from the army.

On March twelfth, 1864, Lieutenant General U.S. Grant was made commander-in-chief of all the armies of the United States, deposing General Halleck, to the great satisfaction of many of the officers and the rank and file in the armies. General Grant visited the Army of the Potomac for a few days in March, consulting General Meade, its commander. Soon after many changes and consolidations were ordered. The five corps were reduced to three, viz: the Second, Fifth and Sixth, commanded respectively by Generals Hancock, Warren and Sedgwick. The Fifth Corps lost its old commander, that sterling old soldier, Major General George Sykes, who had commanded the regular brigade at the beginning of the war and had risen to the command of the Fifth Army Corps. We lost him with profound feelings of regret, which were only compensated by the confidence we had in Major General Gouverneur K. Warren, who had long been a brigade and division commander of the corps. Skeleton companies and regiments were consolidated, brigades and divisions were enlarged. All of the regular infantry soldiers who remained in the field at this time were placed in the First Brigade of the First Division of the Fifth Corps, along with four regiments of volunteers; the One Hundred and Fortieth and One Hundred and Forty-sixth New York and the Ninety-first and One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Pennsylvania, which when combined, out-numbered the regulars considerably. Brigadier-General Romeyn B. Ayres, an old regular artillery officer, commanded the brigade.

General Meade remained in the immediate command of the Army of the Potomac, now increased to ninety-nine thousand, four hundred and thirty-eight officers and enlisted men present for duty, equipped; while General Lee's army, composed of the corps of Longstreet, Ewell and Hill, with Stuart's cavalry, was estimated to number about sixty-two thousand.

General Grant arrived on April twenty-sixth and established his headquarters at Culpeper; with his coming preparations for a forward movement were begun; there was bustle and tumult in all the camps, and a week later, May fourth, the Fifth Corps crossed the Rapidan with the Second Division in the lead preceded by a division of cavalry.