  THE day succeeding the battle, we left Gettysburg in pursuit of the defeated enemy, followed closely by the 6th Corps, by way of Emmetsburg, Adamsville, and Middletown to Williamsport. Much of this time it rained heavily and the roads were bad, but we had the good spirits which attend success, and were cheery, as became victors. Near Williamsport we encountered the enemy, and on the 11th and 12th of July pressed him back toward the river, but he succeeded in crossing the Potomac without further serious loss. Perhaps the finest thing that the army ever saw was the movement forward in line of battle near Williamsport and Hagerstown. As far as the eye could reach on either hand were broad open fields of grain with here and there little woods, the ground being undulating but not broken, and we were formed in close column of division by brigade, the 3d Corps touching our left and the 6th Corps our right; and so we advanced across the wide, yellow fields in two dense lines which extended apparently to the horizon. This movement was continued on two successive days. Then we tried a flank movement by our left, crossed the Potomac on the 17th, near Berlin, and keeping east of the Blue Ridge, were at Manassas Gap on the 23d, and stood spectators of some pretty fighting done by the 3d Corps, who secured possession of the pass. On the 26th we were at Warrenton, and remained there until August 8th, when we moved to Beverly Ford, and encamped there for five weeks. Sergeant Spalding, in a letter home, describes our camp there as the cosiest he ever saw: “Our camp is in a forest of young pines, planted since our arrival. It looks beautifully, especially in the evening. I went out a little way from our camp last evening to take a bird’s-eye view of it. How cosy it looked with the lights from our tallow candles glimmering through the trees from nearly every tent, which seemed almost buried in the green foliage that surrounded it. Our camp is laid out in streets, one for each company. At the head of each street is the captain’s tent, which is surrounded by an artificial evergreen hedge with an arched entrance, with some device in evergreen wrought into or suspended from the arch—as, for instance, Company K has a Maltese Cross (our corps badge). Company I, of Charlestown, has the Bunker Hill Monument. Company D, of Gloucester (fishermen), has an anchor, &c., &c. But our tented cities, be they ever so comfortable and attractive, are short-lived. We build them up to-day and pull them down to-morrow. We may be quietly enjoying our On the 12th October, 1862, General Porter ordered our Colonel to detail one company for detached service as guard to the reserve artillery of the army, and Company C (Captain Fuller) was detailed. When the detail was made it was supposed that it would be only for a few weeks, but they did their duty so acceptably as to result in being separated from the Regiment for more than ten months. It was their duty to accompany the trains of the artillery reserve on the march, the men being distributed along the whole column and on each side of it, and they furnished the sentinels about the ammunition and supply trains, when parked for the night. The duty was not very severe, and their position was one of comparative independence. It was pleasant to hear that a company of ours received praises alike from every commander of the reserve, and from the families of the Virginia farmers whose premises they had occasion to occupy. Their route was the general route of the army, and at Gettysburg they were under sharp fire on the 3d of July, when Lee made his last assault, but the total of their casualties, while absent from the Regiment, was small. They brought back many recollections of pleasant camps and stirring scenes, and the story of their experiences brought a welcome freshness to the gossip of the battalion. They rejoined the Regiment near Beverly Ford, August 24th, 1863. While we were encamped at Beverly Ford five deserters were tried, convicted, and sentenced to be shot, and the sentence was executed near our camp in the presence of the corps, massed on a hillside facing the place of execution. No more solemn scene was witnessed in the army than the march of those five men from the barn in which they had been confined to the graves in which they were to lie. They were dressed alike, in white shirts, trousers, shoes and stockings, and caps. The order of procession was as follows: First, the band, playing the death march, then four soldiers bearing an empty coffin, which was followed by the prisoner who was soon to occupy it, guarded by four soldiers, two in front with reversed arms, and two behind with trailed arms. Then another coffin and another prisoner, borne and guarded as described above, and so the five doomed men marched across the field to their graves, where each, seated upon his coffin, was to pay the penalty of desertion by death. Although at first they marched with firm and steady step, yet they staggered ere they reached the spot where they were to face death at the hands of comrades. Eighty men selected from the provost guard were there in line, posted to fire the fatal volley. When all was ready, the men having been placed in position and blindfolded, the officer in command of the guard, without a word, but by the motion of his sword, indicated the ready—aim—fire, and instantly every gun (forty loaded with blank and forty with ball cartridge) was discharged and all On the 15th of September we broke up this pretty camp and moved along to Culpepper, with some lively skirmishing, and then rested for another month with some picket duty but no warring. A French Canadian who left without permission on our march to Gettysburg, and took to bounty-jumping for a living, was detected, returned to us, and at this camp was tried, sentenced, and punished for his offences in the presence of the entire brigade. In the middle of a square formed by the troops who had been his fellows, one half of his head was shaven close, and his shoulder was branded with a letter D. The square was then deployed—the line formed with open ranks, the front rank faced to the rear, and the poor wretch, under guard, was marched down the path thus lined with on-looking soldiers, the musicians leading the way playing the Rogue’s March, and then he was sent from the lines as not worthy to associate with an honest soldiery.2 2 The scoundrel’s own description of the proceedings was: “they shave my head—they burn my back—they march me in review.” Here, too, we received a reinforcement of 180 drafted men, who were assigned to the different companies, and of whom we made good soldiers. Between the 10th of October and the 29th of November the Army of the Potomac and the Army of Virginia were waltzing about the country between Culpepper and Fairfax. Frequently it was “forward and back,” sometimes “forward all,” and occasionally “back to back.” Generals Meade and Lee called the figures, and we danced to the music of artillery and rifles. There was in fact no fun in all this; the campaigning was severe, and some of the engagements were marked by sharp fighting, but the campaign was mainly one of manoeuvres. Sunday morning, November 29th, found our corps in position, in the centre of the line of battle at Mine Run, with orders to be ready to charge the enemy’s works at a given hour, when a signal gun was to be fired. There the two great armies of Virginia were brought face to face, each occupying a strong natural position, about a mile apart, with a deep valley between, through which passed a small stream called Mine Run. We have said that each army occupied a strong natural position. The Confederate army however, had us at a great disadvantage. They knew it and expressed it by acts which spoke louder than words—coming out from behind their works by hundreds in the open field, seemingly to challenge us to charge across the valley, which they knew—and so did we—would be to many of our number the valley of death. For we had to charge down the hill across the Run and up the opposite slope, in the Before taking our place in the line we were ordered to remove our knapsacks and all needless baggage that might interfere with our movements when the charge was ordered. That was the time that tried our nerves. The field was before us. The obstacles to be met and overcome we could see, and with our past experience it was evident to all that the contemplated movement if executed must involve a fearful sacrifice of life on our side. For hours we watched, and waited in suspense the signal that was to open the conflict, and the relief we experienced when the order to charge was countermanded, can better be imagined than described. At dark we retired a little way from our position in the line of battle, built our camp fires, cooked our supper, and laid down to rest. About midnight we were aroused, and falling into line moved to the right about a mile, where our corps joined the 6th corps which occupied a position in the woods, and there we formed in line of battle. The following day will long be remembered by us on account of our bitter conflict with Jack Frost instead of Johnnie Reb. The day was extremely cold, freezing the water in our canteens, and although in danger of freezing ourselves, we were Thus for three days and nights the two great armies of Virginia menaced each other across the valley of Mine Run. At last the movement was abandoned and the campaign ended by the withdrawal of our army to the north of the Rappahannock, and two days afterward we found ourselves in what proved to be our winter quarters at Liberty. While in winter quarters we had the pleasure of seeing several ladies about the cantonments, among them Mrs. Faxon, the young wife of our surgeon, whose experience and memories of the time it may be better to render in the first person. |
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