Part 3

Notwithstanding the unpleasantness of the operation, the frequent duckings and the no less frequent bruises from stumps and floating timber, the sight was so supremely ridiculous that the misery was forgotten in the fun. Roars of laughter greeted those unfortunates--and their name was legion--who, in their endeavor to keep piece, cartridge-box, coat-tails and other "impedimenta" out of the water, forgot about their footing, until they were reminded by a plunge from a slippery stump, head over ears into the depths of the stream, that that was the first, not the last point, to be kept in mind.

A short distance from the ford a halt was ordered, where the men collected as they struggled over; each company building huge fires and trying to render themselves a little less uncomfortable. Vain thought! Scarcely had the fires begun to throw a more cheerful light on the scene, when "Brigade, forward!" was heard from the front, and turning our backs on the comforts we had hoped for, we squattered up the road. "Squattered" is rather a singular word, but it is the only one available to describe the mode of progression up that road. And such a road! Considered a bad road in fine weather, in a region where there are _no_ good roads, the most vivid imagination fails to depict its present condition. It wound along halfway up the side of a mountain; and between the steady pour of the rain, filling up every gully and making a mud lake of every hole, and the torrents which, rushing down from above, cut it into all sorts of hollows and trenches, as they swept across to precipitate themselves off the other side into the valley beneath, it presented every combination of evils which could appal a weary traveler. Along this road, mill-race, slough, stone bed--for it was all of these by turns--we pushed forward; but the pen fails in the endeavor to describe that march. Many things have we suffered and been jolly over, but it is unanimously voted that "for good, square misery," the night of the 4th of July, 1863, is equaled by few and excelled by none in the annals of the Twenty-second regiment.

As a pitchy blackness rendered everything invisible, a lantern was carried at the head of the column, to prevent those behind from being lost. Every few minutes we would be plunged into a mountain stream running across the road, and which could be heard falling an indefinite distance down the other side; wading across this, in an instant, more we would find ourselves struggling knee-deep in mud of an unequaled tenacity; and the efforts made to extricate ourselves generally resulted in getting tripped up by projecting roots and stumps. As those in front reached an obstacle, they passed the word down the line, "Stump!" "Ford!" "Stones!" "Mud-hole!" Frequently this latter cry became altered to "Man in a mud-hole!" "_Two_ men in a mud-hole--look out sharp!!!"

The only way in which it was possible to move was by following exactly behind your file-leader, if you lost sight of him you were helpless; yet, amid all these difficulties, we continued our march, with a calm despair that was prepared for anything.

At eleven o'clock at night the head of the regiment halted per force--stuck in the mud--even the officers' horses too tired to go another step; the brigade itself was lost, scattered for the last three miles, wherever a turn or twist in the road had hid the guiding lamp; less than two companies were on hand, and many of their number had been left in the various mud "wallows" on the way; all were perfectly exhausted, so we camped where we stood--such camping-ground ne'er before was seen by mortal man--but it was Hobson's choice, that or none.

Imagine a swampy, water-soaked, spungy compound of moss and mud, where the foot sank ankle-deep, covering a bank some twenty feet in width, which extended from the dense woods to the muddy road; no fence, no house for miles; every bit of wood and brush so soaked that one might as well have tried to start a fire with paving stones; and you will have a very faint idea of the cheerful place in which we lay down, tired, hungry, muddy, and wet as water could make us, to enjoy (?) a little sleep. At about one o'clock it commenced to rain--heavens, how it did rain! It takes considerable to arouse men as tired and worn out as those that lay around in that swamp; but one by one they got up with the melancholy confession that "the rain was once more too many for them." By dint of patient industry a fire had been made, whose ruddy blaze seemed to cheer up the scene a little, and clustering around it the awakened sleepers sought a little comfort; but it was all in vain. Another sheet of rain; and the fire, a moment previous, blazing breast high, was a mass of water-soaked embers, around which huddled, for the remainder of the night, as disconsolate and miserable a set of bipeds as ever was seen. During the whole night but one solitary laugh broke the gloomy silence. A poor unfortunate corporal, who had been crouching all night on the end of a log, wrapped up in a rubber blanket, falling asleep in the vain endeavor to extract a little warmth from the embers of the extinguished fire, lost his balance while nodding to and fro, and rolled backward, heels over head, into the mud and water which composed the road; whence he emerged, such a pale drab-colored and profane apparition, as would have drawn a smile from the very Genius of Despair. In this general misery, rank was forgotten; even our Brigadier shared our fortunes, and slept in the mud like the lowest private. Arising before dawn--if that term can be used where no one had laid down--we pushed forward; and a most tiresome five-mile walk through the same horrible road, now drained into a sticky clay mud, knee-deep, brought us to Laurel Forge, a place composed of a dozen huts, a big forge, and nothing else, where, at about eleven A. M., we got a little something to eat, the first for more than thirty hours. But _our trains were behind_, broken down, stuck all along in the mud. This does not mean much to outsiders; but to us it meant that the shortest kind of short commons would be our fate in future, a prophecy which we found to our sorrow to be strictly correct. At about half-past eleven o'clock, the men having nearly all come up, and a chance having been afforded them to get a mouthful to eat (in consequence of the expostulations of the officers against the Brigadier's orders to go forward without waiting for food) we proceeded on our weary way; and about three hours' marching over very good, but awfully steep mountain roads, brought us to the spot designated for the division camp, where we went to sleep in the customary rain, which fatigue had now deprived of its powers.

At this portion of the march, Judge Davies (of the New York Court of Appeals) who had come to the front with despatches, joined the regiment, and shared its fortunes in the subsequent movements until he was compelled to return home, after our arrival at Waynesboro'. The Judge seemed to take a great interest in what was transpiring; and it would have considerably surprised those who have only beheld him on the bench, to have seen him, in an old linen coat "split down behind," scouring the country to the right and left of the line of march, in quest of supplies and information for the Twenty-second; displaying, in these pursuits, the most invaluable talents as a forager, and a capacity for enduring hardship and privation which put many of his juniors to the blush.

The situation of our present camp was most picturesque, the scenery magnificent, the mountain air bracing. There was only one drawback--that the few wagons that had resisted the embraces of the mud could not be brought up to the crest of the mountain where the camp was situated. These wagons contained our rations (and precious little of them too); that we could not live without eating, at least once a day, was made evident, even to the great mind that controlled us; and so, as the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet had to go to the mountain, and the next morning we marched down the other side, in imitation of the king of France, of pious memory, to a camp where, by hard foraging, at about one o'clock, P. M., we secured our breakfast of bread, apple butter and meat--_real meat_, and never did breakfast taste so good in all this world.

It was well known by this time, that while we were stuck in the mud on the glorious Fourth, the rebels had retreated from Gettysburg, and were now endeavoring to escape through the mountain passes, and we were reluctantly compelled to abandon the hopes that had been entertained of earning immortal glory, by coming in at the eleventh hour to turn their defeat into a rout. It is evident to every one that it would have made an immense difference in the result of the contest, if our division of fresh troops, eight or ten thousand strong, could have been precipitated upon the flank of the rebel army, exhausted as they were by three days' fighting. But it was not to be; and therefore, turning away from Gettysburg, we bent our energies to prevent the rebels from securing the mountain passes. Marching hastily to one gap we would hold it, until the information that the rebels were going to another would cause a forced march for that. What would have taken place, if we had happened to strike a gap, just as half of Lee's army had got through, is a thing which we did not think about at the time, but which we now see would have been rather unpleasant.

I will not enter upon the monotonous recital of the dreary marches that were performed in the three times in which we crossed the mountains, of the incessant rains, the horrible roads, the want of food! One meal a day was our usual allowance, and this generally consisted of bread (at a dollar a loaf), and apple butter. If we could get meat once in three days we accounted ourselves fortunate, and then the animal was driven into camp, shot, cut up, cooked and eaten in less time than it takes to write about it; and such meat, generally eaten without salt, was not very nourishing. Money was offered freely enough, but partly from the poorness of the country and partly from the ravages of the rebels, food could not be obtained. In this misery all the militia, whether New-Yorkers or Pennsylvanians, were common sufferers.

On the 6th day of July, we marched till late at night, expecting to cut off the rebel wagon-train at Newman's Gap. It was as dark as Erebus, but the numerous lights, and the sounds that were heard as we approached, convinced all that the movement had been successful, perhaps a little too successful, for it was evident that there were more infantry than wagons in our front. The surgeons took possession of a house and hung out their flag, a few hurried preparations were made, and the regiments moved cautiously up, when the return of one of our scouts disclosed that the supposed enemy was only some of the Brooklyn regiments, who had taken a shorter road, and come in ahead of our brigade. Considerably disgusted at this intelligence, we turned off into the fields which bordered the road, hungry and tired enough, and slept in the long wet grass, till in the early gray of the morning, we were ordered to "forward."

On reaching Newman's Gap, we found that Lee's rear-guard had passed through, about eight hours before we got there, and that the fight, so confidently expected at this point, was "off" for some time yet; but, though disappointed in this respect, we were compensated by obtaining something to eat; and in addition had the pleasure of having pointed out to us, no less than six houses, in all of which Longstreet had died the previous night, and two others, where he was yet lying mortally wounded.

On the 7th of July, after an unusually fatiguing march over muddy roads, rendered almost impracticable by the passage of Lee's army, the division went into camp at Funkstown. The place selected was a level piece of ground in the midst of a beautiful grove, intersected by a rapid little brook, the whole forming one of the most comfortable spots imaginable. Rations had come up, and though we had to sleep on our arms for fear of an attack from Stuart's cavalry, then in our neighborhood, we lay down in first rate spirits and slept the sleep of the just.

During the night it rained heavily; but too tired to wake up for any ordinary shower, we sheltered ourselves and our guns as best we might, and slept on. At about three o'clock it seemed as though the very fountains of the great deep had been broken up, and the rain came down in solid sheets, compelling the most tired to rise; we could stand a good deal, and, as one remarked, a common rain wasn't anything, but when the water got so deep as to cover his nose, he woke up in disgust.

What a sight presented itself on rising! The beautiful grassy plain, level as a billiard-table, on which we had lain down so cheerfully the night before, was now a lake, beneath whose surface our guns, canteens, and other paraphernalia, were slowly disappearing; the little brook had become a torrent, almost equal to the far-famed Yellow Breeches, which a few Brooklyn boys were vainly endeavoring to ford, in order to rescue some of their traps swept away by its sudden overflow; the smooth grass had vanished, and on every side nothing was to be seen but mud, water, and wet and muddy soldiers.

From three to eleven o'clock A. M. that rain continued with unabated vigor. A fire was started under the shelter of a rubber blanket, and coffee made, which put new life into our limbs, and we became quite jolly. It is a noticeable fact, that where things become perfectly awful--when the mud is deepest and the rain the heaviest--there the spirits of the men appear to rise with the difficulties of the situation (except when they have nothing to eat), and they apparently enjoy themselves much more than if they were merely suffering from a temporary annoyance; and accommodate themselves to circumstances as though it was rather funny than otherwise; nevertheless, we were not in the least displeased when the order came to march.

On the 8th of July, the division arrived at Waynesboro', where we were annexed to the third brigade, second division of the sixth army corps (whose white cross, artistically carved out of cracker, was at once adopted by any quantity of the men), and in the subsequent manoeuvres which took place, became a part of the Army of the Potomac. We found Waynesboro', a pleasant little place, but so cleaned out by the rebels that you could not even buy a tin cup; and although our foraging parties scoured the country both in and outside the pickets with untiring zeal, the results were meagre enough; and during the three days we remained (most of the time expecting an attack), we had almost nothing to eat the first day, and but a bare sufficiency afterward.

During these three days, by dint of sleeping about all the time, the brigade had got pretty well rested, and in the afternoon of the 11th took up their line of march for Maryland, in first-rate spirits.

We experienced some trouble on the way, and marched and countermarched a good deal, losing three hours' time and our tempers, in consequence of our General having forgotten that, in going through a strange country, he couldn't get on well without providing himself with a guide; and it was not till after dark that we got across the Antietam at Scotland's Bridge. Once across, however, a pleasant moonlight march over a first-rate road, soon brought us to the border, and when our officers announced, "That house marks the line, boys!" it was with no small gratification that we shook off the dust from our feet, singing with great empressment the Union version of "Maryland--My Maryland," together with a number of parodies not very complimentary to the "men we left behind us."

A few miles from the line, we camped by division. Many, in reading of a camp by division, imagine a most picturesque scene, of long lines of snowy tents being pitched, while trees are felled for firewood, and all sorts of poetic things take place. Nothing of the kind occurs. On arriving at the selected spot (generally a large field), the regiments file in one after another, taking their places in the order in which they marched, and break to the rear so as to form column by companies. The orders are given: "Halt! Stack arms! _Go for rails!!_" And every man simultaneously drops his traps where he stands, and makes a bee-line for the tall worm fences, which are vanishing in every direction, as if by magic. One of these rails must be contributed to the company fire, and happy is he who in addition to procuring his quota, can secure a couple more for himself! Serenely reposing on their sharp edges, covered by his rubber blanket, he defies at once the rain above and the mud below; or, more ambitious grown, the spoils of four are combined, and a shelter, à la rebel, is speedily constructed, which is roofed with two rubber blankets, and the proprietors lying underneath on the other two, are at once the admiration and envy of their comrades. The company rails being obtained, are split, a fire started, and supper cooked (if there is anything to cook), and the men, after smoking the pipe of peace, lie down, some around the fire, and the rest where they halted in the first instance, and in two minutes are fast asleep; blessing the memory of the discoverer of tobacco, and the man who invented sleep.

At the first streak of daylight all are awake; a hurried breakfast is made, or not (generally not), ablutions are likewise dispensed with; the "assembly" sounds; rubbers and overcoats are hastily rolled and slung by those who are lucky enough to have them; a few hurried orders are passed along the line; the troops fall in and march off; and in half-an-hour the trampled ground, the ashes of numerous fires, and the ruined fences, alone tell that ten thousand men have camped there for the night.

For some time we had been pressing hard upon the heels of Lee's retreating army, and at every step new signs of the rapidity of his movements were to be seen. He moved in three columns, the cavalry and artillery taking the road, and the infantry the fields on each side, through which their trampling had cut a path as wide as a city street, destroying the crops they encountered, in a way fit to bring tears into a farmer's eyes; and throughout the whole route, numbers of wounded men were found, left in the houses by the roadside, and deserters without end were encountered, while broken wagons, abandoned ammunition, canteens, &c., &c., were strewed on every side. Yet, notwithstanding these appearances of demoralization, it was evident, from the accounts of the country people, that, though much dispirited by their late defeat, the rebel army was far from being the mere mob that it was believed by some to be.

It is true that the mountains were full of stragglers, and our cavalry were constantly passing us with crowds of prisoners in their charge; yet the main army had a good deal of fight left in it still, and when it turned on its pursuers, as it frequently did, like a stag at bay, it was not to be despised.

From the formation of the ground, in that section of country, the retreating army derived a great advantage over their pursuers, and were constantly enabled to take positions too strong to be attacked with less than the whole Union army, and where a mere show of strength would check our advance; and then before Meade could concentrate his forces, Lee would be off. At Funkstown in particular, with the simplest materials, a steep slope, fronted by the Antietam, had been converted by the rebels into a second Fredericksburgh. This was all that saved them, for General Meade pressed the pursuit fast and furious.

On the morning of Sunday, the 14th of July, we found ourselves at Cavetown, almost used up. We had had no breakfast; and, from a variety of causes, the march had been one of the most wearisome we had yet experienced. The morning was sultry and exhausting beyond expression; the atmosphere heavy, with that peculiar feeling which precedes a thunder-storm--and, in addition, our shoes were so nearly worn out that the sharp stones, which covered and almost paved a most abominable wheat-field, through which we had passed on the route, had disabled many whose feet were just recovering from the blisters of previous marches.

As soon as we had halted, the division formed line of battle, on the rise of a little hill fronting Hagerstown (to act as supports to General Kilpatrick, who had gone forward that morning to attack it), and we then lay down to rest, first sending details in all directions to forage for a meal.

While idling around, bemoaning the condition of our feet, and discussing the chances of capturing Hagerstown, the sultry promise of the morning was amply redeemed by one of the most tremendous thunder-storms ever seen; the rain fell in torrents (but this was a matter of course, and excited no remark), and the thunder pealed and the lightning flashed all around us--too near to some. Five men of the Fifty-sixth Brooklyn were struck, one of whom died instantly, and the others were badly hurt. A gun belonging to the Thirty-seventh was shattered to pieces by the electric fluid; and several men in the different regiments were reminded by slight shocks that the farther they kept from the stacks of arms the better.

During the afternoon our ears and eyes were gladdened, the one by intelligence that Hagerstown had been taken after a sharp fight, the other by the sight of our dinner (or breakfast) coming up the road, in the shape of an astonished ox, who, when he threw up his head in response to the cheers which greeted his entré, was shot, skinned, and boiling, before he fairly knew what he was wanted for; and finally, the arrival and distribution of a case of shoes to those who were actually barefoot, put us all in the seventh heaven of delight. We also found some tobacco! To be sure it was poor stuff, apparently a villanous compound of seaweed and tea; but only those who have known what it is to see their stock of the precious weed vanish day by day, with no available means of replenishing it, can imagine our feelings on finding a supply, after we had been reduced to less than a quarter of a pound to a company.

At about twelve o'clock the next day, the column camped by division, some three miles from General Meade's headquarters, about the same distance from Boonesboro', and within sight of the immense train of the reserve artillery, at a place where the old bivouacs of the Army of the Potomac filled the air with the nauseating smells invariably incident to deserted camps. In this delightful spot we waited for the battle which was to be brought on.

All were in high spirits;--it was universally supposed that the rains had made the Potomac unfordable, "and that Lee was a goner this time sure;" but as hour after hour passed without a sound of the heavy cannonading which marks "the battle's opening roar," and rumor after rumor filled the air, the talk, as time lengthened, grew less and less hopeful, and finally during the afternoon we learned definitely that "the play was played out." Lee was gone, boots and baggage, and our hopes of taking a hand in the contest which would probably have decided the war, were gone with him. Perhaps it was all for the best. If Lee gave battle, it would be on selected ground, against weary troops, where every man in the rebel army knew he was fighting with no hope of escape, and would consequently resist to the utmost; under these circumstances, the contest, if not doubtful, would unquestionably have been bloody beyond all precedent; and many desolated homes, and empty places in the armories of the Empire City, would have mourned for those who would return no more.