Part 4

Whatever hopes of permanency may have been cherished as to the new camp they were all destroyed before the day (14th) was done. There were inspections, always a Sunday feature, the distribution of cartridges, which had a businesslike aspect, and the dispatching of three companies to the picket line only to be recalled later with orders to pack up and be ready for a long march. In addition it was ordered that knapsacks be left behind, a fact that brought up visions of forced marching and a possible encounter. To the inexperienced soldiers separation from their knapsacks was a serious matter and each man debated with himself as to what he could best leave behind, the upshot of it all being that generally his blanket, tied in a roll and slung over the shoulder, was the one item deemed absolutely necessary. It was quite seven o'clock before the march began, the way being through camps and along the sides of forts until the Aqueduct Bridge, leading across the Potomac to Georgetown, was reached; the name of the bridge arising from the fact that the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal crossed here, terminating in Alexandria. Over the bridge and through Georgetown the pace was a brisk one until, after a march of possibly seven miles, a halt for the remainder of the night was ordered on a prominence back of the village of Tennallytown.

The 15th began with the soldiers at five o'clock and there was a march of fully two miles before the halt for breakfast. Apparently in the same line with our men were the Tenth Vermont and a Pennsylvania Battery and the news gradually spread through the ranks that the purpose of the speedy trip was to do picket duty along the Potomac River. To the undisciplined mind it did seem as though a less headlong pace might have been set for such an end, but it was not for the men to complain nor to reason why, but rather to plod along as rapidly as possible. Inasmuch as the heat was extreme, the roads dusty, many of the men, quite unused to the strain and wilting under the sun's rays, fell out. This day, too, the preparation of meals was entirely by the soldiers themselves, company cooks having done the work before. When a halt was ordered it was obeyed with the utmost alacrity, the men throwing themselves upon the ground with expressions of relief. When at last, after another advance, there came the orders to halt and prepare coffee, they were heard with gladness, the location being near an old mill on Waitt's Branch, this being an affluent of the Big Muddy Branch, but the night was not to be spent here, the officers deciding that it was not a defensible place, hence the march was continued in the most quiet manner possible, to the brow of a hill where camp was pitched for the night. In the light of subsequent knowledge that the enemy was many miles away, the extreme caution must have been the result of false information to those leading.

Another day, 16th, began early and the route was still up the Potomac, though the pace was not so rapid as that of yesterday. At noon dinner was eaten at Seneca Mills and then followed a stretch of about fifteen miles, leading up to Poolesville, a village by no means important in itself, yet it had been heard of frequently in Massachusetts since here, or in this locality, a year ago were encamped the Fifteenth, Nineteenth and Twentieth Regiments from the Bay State and through here had marched the Thirteenth. To Lieut. Colonel Peirson and Major Tremlett, the place must have seemed very familiar since both had been officers in the Twentieth. Not a few of the latest visitors thought that its size and appearance hardly comported with its notoriety. A sudden and violent rainstorm accompanied the entrance of the place where were found two cavalry companies on duty, who informed the inquirers that the Battle of Poolesville, shouted so loudly a few days before at Arlington, was really only a skirmish, in which the only casualty was the killing of a horse, the whole affair being one of many incidents, accompanying the movements of Stuart's Cavalry in the general advance of General Lee into Maryland. Notwithstanding the rain, weary men threw themselves upon the ground, glad to rest in any way anywhere; but long before morning the fierceness of the storm and the level character of the plain on which the men were lying, reducing the latter to something like a duck-pond, made the soldiers get up, build fires and try to dry themselves, but with indifferent success.

[Sidenote: SEPT. 17, '62]

The day of Antietam's great battle, the 17th of September, found the regiment making coffee around fires that were larger than usual, owing to the moisture that pervaded everything, but wet or dry, there was to be no protracted halt here and the village, later to be quite familiar to the Thirty-ninth, was left behind as the regiment plodded along about three miles further. Turning off into some woods, camp was established, rations drawn and preparations were progressing for staying a while when orders came, directing five companies (B, C, D, G, and K) to go on picket at once. Marching about two miles further, the river was reached by the companies at Edward's Ferry. The latter is thirty-five miles from Washington and the section had been more or less mixed up with the war from the very start. Edward's Ferry was familiar on account of the Battle of Ball's Bluff, just across the Potomac, on the 21st day of October, one year before. Out in the river is Harrison's Island, a bit of land that had been seen in fancy by thousands of Northern people whose loved ones had died there. The road, traversed by the men, was the Leesburg pike, the ferry being one of the features of the way. While the country is attractive, with the historic river flowing through it, the soldiers were not there for historic studies. Posting one company at the Ferry as the extreme left, the men were strung along the river to Conrad's Ferry, five miles further up the stream. So on the banks of Old Potomac began the duties of soldiering in a region that had already echoed to battle's din. Parallel with the Potomac, sluggishly flows the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal and along its banks many of the picket groups were posted. Five miles to be under observation by about five hundred men or, as they were posted in groups of five, there were twenty posts to the mile and, if stationed at equal intervals, each set of sentinels was responsible for sixteen rods, but other circumstances than mere distance determined the placing of men on picket. Probably no more vigilant soldiers than these of the Thirty-ninth ever watched the river and opposite shore, for the novelty of the situation and the knowledge that the rebels were within shooting distance made the responsibility great. Besides, the rumbles from distant Antietam, throughout the 17th, were calculated to waken apprehensions in the minds of men who had no means of knowing what way the fight was going.

PICKET DUTY.

Thence onward till the 23rd of the month this tour of duty continued and however irksome it may have been to many, as a rule, men preferred such service to the routine of roll-call and almost constant drill in camp. Happily for these tyros in military experience, nothing of note disturbed the general quiet of the period, though every man was on the alert for the first indication of hostile approach. The proximity of Maryland farms and well-filled larders suggested foraging and, while some of the men paid for the food which they obtained, others did not, and a considerable raid is recorded which resulted in the bringing into camp of a great variety of material, both animal and vegetable, as well as cereals and fruit. While it was new business for the majority of these well brought up young men, they speedily adapted themselves to their new conditions, and rare was the soldier who could not secure food to eat if anything of the kind were within reaching distance. It is said that bills, aggregating fifty dollars, were presented to the Colonel by suffering farmers from the afflicted locality and they were paid by someone, though the amount was later assessed upon the offending companies. Sickness made its appearance among the men, largely the result of indiscretion in eating, the abundance of all sorts of fruit inducing indulgence therein to the extent of serious stomach and bowel difficulties. Also, the individual cooking done by the men may have had a share in the disorders named, for while some of the combinations of fried pork, apples and molasses may have been very palatable, they certainly were a surprise to many of the stomachs, into which they were introduced. At the same time the lesson of self help had to be learned.

[Sidenote: SEPT., '62]

On the 23rd, the companies on picket were relieved by those in camp and there came a chance to receive the knapsacks left at Arlington on the 14th, and the extra clothing thus was appreciated by all to whom the coldness of Southern nights was a revelation. Shelter tents were distributed and every one speedily learned how much comfort could be found beneath them. Here too began in good earnest the school of the soldier, and four drills a day, along with roll-calls at frequent intervals, induced a degree of attention and a weariness that made many a lad seek his rest, when possible, without any prompting. The first death in the regiment came on the 27th, when Nathan Mitchell, a Bridgewater boy, Company F, twenty-one years old, passed out of this life. The funeral was held the next (Sunday) morning, an impressive lesson for the soldiers of the possibility of death in camp as well as on the battlefield.

For a number of days there followed a regular exchange of duties between camp and picket, the latter being considered preferable, as a rule, having so much less of drill and the fretful features of military life. Men learned to wash their own garments, to mend their apparel and to do many things of which, had they remained at home, they would always have been ignorant. The bi-weekly arrival of the mail was a regular event that never lost its interest, and happiness and misery were separated only by the receipt of letters or their failure. The folks at home knew this full well, and there were few boys in blue for whom some one in the distant Northland was not planning some pleasant interlude during these months of separation. Confederate prisoners, too, were not unusual, on their way under guard to Washington, and while they at first excited curiosity, the latter feeling was mingled with wonder at their lack of uniform and the general soldierly appearance which the Union soldiers maintained. Under the impression that the Maryland side was held by his people one rebel forded the Potomac, clad in citizen's garb, wearing a Pennsylvanian's knapsack which, he said, he had acquired at Manassas; he was a queer looking soldier, though he claimed to belong to the Sixth Florida Infantry. Someway, he had managed to get off the rebel route on the way back from Antietam. It was no infrequent thing for an alarm to bring the men into line at any time of night and to make them stand thus until daylight did appear. Seemingly the foe was constantly fording the Potomac above or below the portion guarded by the Thirty-ninth Regiment. In one case, the "sure rebels," who had built fires across the river, proved to be the division of General E. V. Sumner returning from a raid upon the wagon-train of General Lee.

Since reaching "Old Potomac's Shore" no more memorable day had been recorded than Sunday, October 12th, when the regular inspection was interrupted by the arrival of a courier with orders to march at once since the enemy was crossing the river at one of the upper fords, and skirmishing was already in progress. Much to the wonder of some, in spite of the urgency the inspection was finished and the rations drawn before the Thirty-ninth, in heavy marching array, started off at a double-quick, to make up for lost time. The heat of the day and the heaviness of the attire made the march exceedingly trying, but Conrad's Ferry was reached at last, knapsacks were unslung, line of battle was formed, and the approach of the enemy was awaited; but in vain, for the rapid riders of J. E. B. Stuart had already crossed at White's Ford, two miles further up the stream. Some of the hypercritical soldiers thought that if the inspection had been ended at once and the march made in light order, the Thirty-ninth might have arrived in time to interrupt the placid passage of the Potomac by the venturesome Confederates.

STUART'S RAID.

[Sidenote: OCT. 9, '62]

It is in place to state that the affair was the termination of one of the most picturesque incidents of the entire war. On the 9th of October, Confederate General Stuart with eighteen hundred of the best mounted and most reliable men in the brigades of Wade Hampton, Fitz Hugh Lee and B. H. Robertson started from Darksville, a place some miles above Martinsburg in the valley of the Shenandoah and, moving northward, crossed the Potomac at McCoy's Ford and reached Chambersburg, Penn., in the evening of the 10th. In the Keystone State the troopers had helped themselves to whatever they chose to take, but they had carefully refrained from molesting property on their way through Maryland. In Chambersburg and vicinity, horses and whatever might contribute to the welfare and comfort of the invaders were appropriated. The night in the Pennsylvania city was spent in drizzling rain which added not a little to the peril of the situation, for Federal authorities were astir, hoping to surround and capture the entire rebel outfit. The morning of the 11th, the horsemen turned their steps eastward, proceeding towards Gettysburg as far as Cashtown; thence the route was directly southward, through Emmitsburg, New Market, Hyattstown, etc., with only momentary halts, to the Potomac. There was no bivouac for the night, since any hour might confront the riders with a Union force to effectually block their way. Stuart had the good fortune to be guided by Capt. B. S. White, a Poolesville man and a member of his staff who knew the entire country thoroughly, so that, while the Federal forces were looking for the enemy further down the stream or at points higher up, White piloted them to the ford and saw them in safety on the other side.

It was one of the great events of military history; General Stoneman with infantry and cavalry was stationed at Poolesville, and Pleasanton was in readiness at the mouth of the Monocacy, places which the astute Confederates carefully avoided. The net results of the expedition were the destruction of public and railroad property in Chambersburg to the amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars; two hundred and eighty wounded and sick prisoners, paroled; thirty United States government officials and other citizens of prominence, captured and forwarded to Richmond, to be held as hostages for Confederate citizens held by the North, and more than twelve hundred horses brought away to replenish the mounts for the daring rebels. Within twenty-seven hours, the Confederates had ridden ninety miles, encumbered with artillery and captured horses, and had forced the final passage of the Potomac virtually under the very eyes of the Union forces, their only loss being two men who wandered away, and the only casualty was the wounding of one man. Not a few observers in the Union ranks wondered why things were thus, and Hooker's pertinent question, "Who ever saw a dead cavalryman?" is remembered.

An interesting postscript to the escape of Stuart and his men came about soon after when Poole and Leslie of Company K, in spite of the strict orders as to watchfulness and care, laid off their clothes, when on picket, and swam over to Harrison's Island where they found no other rebel than an old mule, feeding in solitary, but on their way back they found in the river a pair of saddle-bags that had belonged to the Chaplain of Hampton's Legion, one of Stuart's force, and evidently lost in the crossing. The contents consisted in pious tracts, a vest with Confederate buttons, needles and thread, and a hospital flag, a yellow cotton affair, which years afterward would be one of the finder's choicest relics. Leslie was always very sorry that those tracts were not distributed among the Johnnies, for he thought they needed them badly.

The same rain that had made the rebel raid all the more difficult rendered the return of our men to camp very uncomfortable, but they had learned something of what might be expected of them. Besides, during the evening they acquired a bit of military knowledge from certain troops under Gen. D. B. Birney of the Corps, lately commanded by Gen. Phil Kearney. They too had come in a hurry from Hall's Hill and found themselves too late for the game.

[Sidenote: OCT. 14, '62]

It had been a hard day and the men were tired and hungry; flocking over to the camp of the Thirty-ninth, they were cordially received and the Massachusetts men generously gave what they could to the comfort of the weary soldiers, receiving in payment many thanks and some pretty large stories of the fights in which the older soldiers had been. One of the latter's first acts was to build great fires, using therefor the fence rails, hitherto untouched by the Bay State lads, this being in conformity with orders, but the experienced campaigners cared not a copper for rules, but speedily laid hold on the combustible matter and lighted roaring fires that astonished the lately arrived. Such desecration was not to be tamely endured by those who strictly interpreted the law, so the colonel of the Thirty-ninth undertook to stay the hands of the wet and muddy soldiers and thus to save the fences, but the veterans of the Peninsula, Groveton and Antietam were not to be diverted by mere language, and the conflagration continued till long lengths of zigzag fence had disappeared.

MOVING AGAIN

Tuesday, the 14th of October, saw the regiment again in line, and marching something like eight miles towards Washington to Seneca Landing, camping there for the night. The land was low and wet near the canal, and in the morning all turned out as wet as if they had been in the rain, so dense was the fog that overspread the locality. By morning's light, a new camping-place was found on a high hill, half a mile to the rear, where camp was once more pitched, the Sibley tents having arrived; the location was the same that was occupied by the Second Massachusetts Infantry in the winter of 1861 and 2; the Landing, about twenty-five miles from Washington, was at the mouth of Seneca Creek and was a depot of supplies for the army. A noteworthy arrival of mail is chronicled for this place, since in the maneuvers of the last few days, a large quantity of such matter had accumulated at Poolesville and it is recorded that fully eight bushels of letters and papers were distributed among the men, hungry for news from home. Hitherto, the Thirty-ninth had acted in an independent capacity, but on Friday, the 17th, orders were promulgated, organizing a brigade, to be under the command of Brigadier Gen. Cuvier Grover and to consist of the Thirty-ninth, the Tenth Vermont, the Fourteenth New Hampshire and the Twenty-third Maine along with a battery and certain cavalry, the same being an independent brigade, though under the ultimate command of General Heintzelman, who was in charge of the defenses of Washington, the duties being similar to those hitherto performed.

During these days, while there were drills, inspections and other camp duties, the enlisted man had time, or he took it, to visit neighboring farms, to quiz the natives, to sample the products of the land and in many ways to prove his derivation from Yankeedom. The men found the negroes glad to see them and ready to hurrah for the flag, while suspicion was generally harbored that professions of loyalty on the part of slave-owners were not particularly sincere. Target shoots were indulged in, a practice of which there should have been more throughout the army; Sunday, the 19th, was remarked as quite uneventful, since there were only inspections and dress parade, and no alarm of any sort. October 20th orders came to pack up, and a removal to the mouth of Muddy Branch was made, possibly three miles nearer Washington, where the old routine was continued. As the name of the stream would indicate, the locality was still very unhealthy, being low and damp, but the duties were less arduous when on picket, through there being less posts and less hours of duty. Illicit traffic with the enemy had to be strictly watched and prevented.

[Sidenote: OCT. 21, '62]

On the 21st, a long stretch of embankment on the canal breaking away, a detachment of five men from each company was made to proceed to the scene, some three miles down the stream, and to repair the same, an employment hardly contemplated when they enlisted. However, they succeeded in stopping the crevasse and permitting the renewal of transportation. Though comparatively near the base of supplies, provisions at times were scarce and hardtack and water seemed scant rations for men accustomed to more generous fare. If, under such circumstances, soldiers foraged occasionally, sometimes paying for what they got, more often not, why, it was only a part of the game that the North and the South were playing; and to prove themselves rapidly progressing, October 24th, ostensibly in retaliation for excessive charges, a raid was made on the regimental sutler,[C] mulcting his assets to the amount, so said, of about eighty dollars.

The section guarded by the Thirty-ninth and the other regiments of the brigade, being on the canal and river, was one pretty thoroughly traversed by the Union soldiers and those who kept diaries made many interesting entries. There was a constant passing of boats on the canal and all roads led to Washington. Negroes on their way to the Nation's Capital might be intercepted, but if the black man asserted that he was running away from his master, he would have been a rare soldier who would turn him back. One colored person, thus halted, very aged, claimed to have been a slave of General Washington and, in reply to a query, said that the Father of his Country looked very brave. Though situated on the top of a hill, the constant wet weather made the surroundings of the camp anything but agreeable, the soil being soft and sticky; to crown all misfortunes, occasionally a tent would collapse upon its occupants in the midst of rain and wind, resulting in hurried action on the part of the unfortunate fellows who may have just come in from the exactions of a prolonged tour of picket duty.