By way of explanation of the marchings and counter-marchings in which the regiment is indulging, it should be stated that a considerable portion of October was devoted to what Wm. Swinton calls "A campaign of maneuvers." So far from reading each other's mind, it would appear that neither Lee nor Meade was accurately informed of the actual procedure of his rival for, while the Confederates were still making their way northward, but not being encountered by Meade where he expected, the latter ordered the Second, Fifth and Sixth Corps to turn about and to be ready to face Lee at or near Culpeper; the Third Corps, under French, meanwhile was at Freeman's Ford on the Rappahannock, and the First we have seen at Kelly's Ford. When the Union Commander learned that Lee had simply gone a little further west for his crossing of the Rappahannock, White Sulphur Springs, on the 12th, and was rapidly nearing Warrenton, he recalled the troops south of the river and then began the forced march to prevent Lee's distancing him completely. Thomas Nelson Page says, "Meade was a master at moving his troops and now, making a forced march that night was in Lee's rear the next morning"(13th). It was a hotly contested race as to which army should first reach Bristoe Station, thus ending any purpose that Lee might have had against Washington.

In all these movements on the great chessboard of war with its army corps, divisions and brigades, what was a single regiment among so many hundred? How much less was the individual, and it is the province of a history, such as this, to keep as near the individual as possible. Even a brigade, in such a vast array of men, was scarcely more than a pawn in the mighty game the Blue and the Gray were playing for American supremacy. Still every regiment had its part to perform in the progress of the contest, and thousands of people in the homeland were watching each and every day's doing with supreme interest, their thoughts chiefly centered on some particular organization, and to them and the members themselves there was no other body quite so important as "ours." To follow day by day, the march, bivouac and duty of the Thirty-ninth Massachusetts in this and all other campaigns in which it had a part is the office of this story.

The white frost that greeted the eyes of waking soldiers in the morning of the 12th was quite as cold as any that New England could present, and campfires never were more appreciated. A hurried breakfast was prepared and eaten when the brigade was ordered into hurriedly made rifle-pits, where the day was spent with the understanding that trouble might arise at any moment. This was the day in which Meade was looking for Lee. While there were sounds of activity elsewhere, nothing disturbed the Thirty-ninth, some even writing letters as the hours passed on. At no time in the history of the Regiment, did legs play a more important part than they did on the 13th of October; called from slumber at midnight, the advance was begun at one o'clock of the morning, and through the darkness the blue clad men were pushing forward as rapidly as possible towards Warrenton Junction, reaching it at 11 a. m., with fifteen miles to the credit of the forenoon's effort. At Bealton station on the way, at six o'clock three had been a halt, and the men naturally supposed that coffee and breakfast were in order, but, much to the disappointment Oct. 12, '63 of all, came the order to advance and that, too, without delay. When men demurred and undertook to continue their preparation of food, staff officers rushed among them and, kicking over their utensils, put out the fires, thus impressing on the hungry fellows the fact that the march was a forced one. It surely was a hurried getting-away and many a vehicle came to grief, particularly among the sutlers who had been somewhat venturesome in their coming to the front; it was even claimed that misfortunes to the outfits of the sutlers were not always unprovoked, since the removal of linchpins by mischievous boys and the consequent running off of wheels gave opportunity to fill otherwise empty haversacks.

At Warrenton Junction all preparations were made for the possible attack of the enemy, batteries being unlimbered, the Regiment formed in battle-line, though the noon hour, after the long retreat, suggested dinner to the almost famished men, but the experience of the preceding July had taught all that the locality was sadly lacking in water supply. Except those who were looking out for the rear, the troops were in active motion, all passing by at the height of speed. Great quantities of commissary stores were piled up, and these were either carried off by the soldiers themselves or loaded upon the trains and thus saved, so disappointing the enemy who had reckoned on getting to these food supplies first. After a considerable halt the march proceeded along the line of railroad past Catlett's Station to Bristoe's, reaching the latter point late in the evening and camping at about nine o'clock. On the way we had passed the great wagon trains of the Army of the Potomac, packed in one, great, solid square, with wheels chained together, the mules being secured in the centre, indicating that the danger of immediate attack from the enemy was thought to be over for the present at least, and it also seemed that the First Corps came near being in the lead. A march of nearly twenty-five miles with almost empty haversacks gave the men reason for being considerably tired.

"Not every boo is a bear" was clearly shown on this march towards Centreville when Fred, brother of Sergeant L. of "K," having permission from the colonel, undertook to secure a chicken for the sergeant whose stomach was not in accord with his regular rations. With instructions to be extremely careful, the soldier went from house to house but without success, the guards at these places telling him that he was running great risks, since the men, seen in the distance, were clearly bushwhackers. It was nightfall before he found the chicken he was after, and by the time he was making his way back, darkness settled down. He had to pass through a strip of woods where every object was distorted and even a deaf man would have heard sounds. Halfway through the woods, a real noise in the roadside bushes made his hair begin to rise, but he did not stop to investigate too closely, when the climax was reached by six or seven razorback hogs dashing across the road in front of him. The sudden change from probable guerrillas to actual swine was a relief unutterable, but the former were about and that very night carried off two men from the headquarter's wagon train. While the sergeant enjoyed his chicken broth and improved thereon, he declared the risk too great and Fred went on no more such errands.

It was a four o'clock call of the bugle, in the morning of the 14th, that summoned frost covered and sleepy soldiers from dreams to realities, but their distress was somewhat offset by the appearance of rations, of which they drew supplies for four days and thereby were better equipped for the day's progress which began at seven o'clock, as one veracious chronicler states, with the First Corps on the left and the Sixth at the right of the railroad. While these two Army Corps were thus continuing their way in relative quiet, heavy firing in the rear indicated that the Second and Fifth Corps were having something to do, the Oct. 14, '63 Second fighting the battle of Bristoe Station; General Warren having his hands full in warding off the attack of the enemy while the cavalry, on both sides, were piling up the portentous list of battles, many of them bloodless, which adorn the histories of so many mounted regiments. Centreville, so famous in the July days of 1861, was now the evident destination of the forces and crossing Bull Run, at Blackburn's Ford, the scene of the first day's fight in the memorable First Bull Run engagement, the brigade arrived at Centreville not far from noon. To build fires and to prepare a dinner, undisturbed, was the next act in this day's drama and, if tired soldiers caught a few hours sleep before the next scene, it need not be wondered at. Some of the men in the Thirty-ninth were participants in the disastrous battle of Bull Run; to them it was a case of old scenes revisited, and if they took some pride in rehearsing their experiences they did not fail of interested listeners.

But the day was by no means done; though Centreville had been reached, the enemy was still near, only a little way to the west, and picket lines must be established. Accordingly the Regiment proceeded on its somewhat confusing task, while the greater part of the division went on a reconnoisance. Apparently there was little definite knowledge of localities, since one writer observed that they reached their destination at seven o'clock and marched around till eleven, and another of Company E relates the interesting experience of trying to obey the orders to follow Bull Run until the pickets of the Sixth Corps were reached. After crossing Cub Run, three miles away, Major A. D. Leavitt of the Sixteenth Maine, division-officer of the picket, went on ahead to ascertain his whereabouts, leaving the Regiment in a field. Returning in less than an hour, he reported a rebel camp in the immediate front; in trying to retire, the line was halted by our own pickets when it appeared that we had been more than a mile beyond our own lines. On calling the roll, Sergeant Dusseault found that twelve men were missing. Major Leavitt would allow no one to go back after them but himself and he found the missing men fast asleep where we had been waiting. Bringing them all safe and sound to their own, established the reputation of the Major with the Thirty-ninth from that time on, as long as he lived. To one member of Company E, "Johnny" Locke, the memory of the Major was specially grateful, because of the latter's kindness. The young man had been suffering for days from a carbuncle on his neck; in any other place than the army, he would have been laid up completely, but here he kept going; he was one of those found by the officer and, recognizing the condition of the soldier, he kindly got down from his horse and mounted the boy in the saddle. Sidney himself could have done no more.

The dawn of the morning of the 15th did not reveal the situation with certainty to these inexperienced soldiers; they knew that they were very near the thrilling scenes of more than one and two years before, that the sound of musketry and cannon-firing in their front indicated the possibility of a third battle of Bull Run. It was theirs, however, to watch and wait in constant expectation of orders to lend a hand. One writer enlarges on the delights of persimmon-eating, the October frosts having ripened the yellow delicacy to perfection, and the various other diversions that unoccupied hours ever suggest. Though the brigade was finally rejoined and there was a movement towards Centreville with orders to pitch tents, before the same could be obeyed a long threatened rain began to fall, putting out whatever fires had been built and essentially adding to the discomforts and uncertainties of the day. Rations were drawn late at night and record is made of the giving out of a portion of whiskey as a stimulant to the wet and weary soldiers. The experiences of the 16th and 17th did not vary essentially from those of the 15th; there were picket duty, acting as reserve, the drawing of rations and all sorts of prognostications as to what the outcome of Oct. 16, '63 the expedition would be. While the cavalry of both sides kept up an exchange of compliments, very few casualties were reported from any source. That those who directed believed there was immediate danger was evident in the degree of caution constantly maintained; roll-call every two hours and constant injunctions to be ready to move at any moment.

The 18th marked the end of the Confederate effort to repeat the campaign of the preceding June and July, and that of 1862. General Lee writing to his wife on the 19th of October says:

From the foregoing it would seem that only the Confederate cavalry had been responsible for the Federal activity in and about the old Bull Run battlefields, and now even the horsemen were to follow the foot forces and the Union troops would again move west and southward. Ordered out and to pack up in the morning of the 19th the prospects were not improved by a severe rain storm which completely drenched both tents and apparel so that, to regular burdens, was added the weight of water absorbed by the fabrics. Starting at about eight o'clock, the route was along the Warrenton turnpike, the very road, so prominent in all accounts of the two Bull Run fields, with the sad sights of only partially covered bodies of those who had perished in the engagements; the severe rain was constantly adding to the heaviness of the way and Thoroughfare Gap, the reputed destination of the march, seemed a very long distance off. The vicinity of Haymarket on the Manassas Gap Railroad was reached about 4 p. m. and the noise ahead indicated a fear that the enemy was there in force, our artillery keeping up a vigorous shelling of what was thought to be the rebel position. Camps were made and tents pitched only to have the vexatious order "Pack up" given just as we were disposed to get a bit of rest. Rations, too, were scarce and everything combined to make the day and night particularly trying; at 3.30 p. m. or thereabouts of the 20th an advance was made through Thoroughfare Gap, though there were those who thought "No Thoroughfare," on account of the difficulties of the way, would be a better designation.

The 21st was spent in camp which was pitched on such a hilly surface that at least two bunkies had to stake a board at their feet, lest they slide from under their blankets. Every one remarked on the beauty of the locality and comments were made on the five storied flouring-mill standing in the Gap, the same being thought the finest edifice yet seen in Virginia. Notwithstanding the recent destruction of railroads on the Confederate retreat, so quickly were repairs made and so immediate the communications between the different departments that a wagon supply train came through in the afternoon and hungry men were fed once more. One man said his breakfast had consisted of half a hardtack; the same writer, his stomach being at rest, could enlarge on the beauties of the moonlight in the evening. Poetic thoughts are not prevalent in the presence of hunger. The 22d brought inspection, an indication that the officers, at least, thought us anchored for a while; the 23rd was marked by a battalion drill, another sign of permanency and, to complete the soldiers' happiness, quartermaster's stores appeared so that many defects and wants in uniform were supplied.

While every prospect was pleasing, it was not for sightseeing that these men in blue were so far from home and Oct. 23, '63 all realized that a long stay here was out of the question, so the orders to be ready for a start at seven o'clock of the 24th surprised no one. A very heavy, cold rain had been falling during a large part of the preceding night, hence wet tents increased the burdens of travel while empty haversacks reminded the owner of an equally vacant stomach. Every day, during an active campaign, reminded all concerned of the truth of the old adage that an army, like a snake, moves upon its belly, and Oliver Twist, ever insistent on more, was reproduced in every healthy soldier in the Potomac Army. Only the few who had provided for a possible lacking of rations had anything to eat this morning, hence no time was lost in preparing breakfast. It was through a pitiless rain that the day's march, beginning early in the forenoon, was made back through Thoroughfare Gap; following the railroad as nearly as possible, luckily the grade being down rather than up; fording streams, especially Broad Run, though they could make the men no more wet than they already were from the rain; through Haymarket, Gainesville to Bristoe Station, the scene of the Second Corps' fight on the 14th. On every hand were evidences of the fierce encounter, as dead horses and the many graves of the slain. Though the most of the brigade halted here, the Thirty-ninth and the Ninety-fourth New York had not reached their limit, and they continued until Kettle Run was reached.

The special duty assigned to these two regiments was the guarding of the railroad, which had been repaired to this point and the bridge which was in process of building; all were exceedingly tired from the long day's exactions; there was no food to cook for supper but they could build big fires and dry to some extent their drenched apparel, and then seek rest and the sleep which hovers near the wet and weary. Sunday, the 25th, dawned bright and beautiful, its warmth imparting sun soon dried what the fires of the night before had failed to do and, had there only been rations for the hungry men, they might have been in a better mood for enjoyment. Ten of the clock brought inspection, as inevitable as death itself; before noon the anxiously expected rations appeared and, with them disposed of, the Regiment was ready for any duty that might be assigned. With the food also came some articles of apparel, so that long needed blankets made nights more comfortable. For eleven days or until the 5th of November, this locality, the camp having been changed a bit and more carefully laid out, became the habitat of the Thirty-ninth. It was during the night of the 25th that Lieutenant I. D. Paul of Company F came near losing his life; orders had been given to those on guard to challenge no one but to shoot at sight; only the recognition of his shoulder strap saved the popular officer's falling a victim to the very orders that he had himself given out.

Though the camp was to continue quite a while for an active campaign, the men did not know it, nor anyone else for that matter, so orders to be ready for a move were not unheard during this period of comparative rest; still the regular routine of roll-calls, drill, etc., was resumed, for absolute ease was unknown to members of the Thirty-ninth. The season being the last of October, the weather was sharp, the rains cold and need of warm clothing apparent. The 29th brought quite a rarity in the shape of a ration of "soft bread" as the soldiers always called the baker's product, in the shape of loaves, in distinction from the hard bread or the regulation hardtack, the real standby. The last day of the month was written down as the date of muster for two months' pay and the fact that food was abundant, since, being right on the railroad, by means of steam, rations came direct from Washington. On Tuesday, November 3rd, there was a brigade drill, conducted by Colonel Leonard of the Thirteenth Massachusetts, commanding the brigade, and the giving out of eight days' rations had a decided look towards a change of camps. The 4th was signalized by the arrival of boxes from home Nov. 4, '63 and many a boy's heart, as well as stomach, was made glad by evidence of home regard and recollection.

While the men regretted leaving their comparatively comfortable camp, all realized that the mutations of war demanded almost constant action, so the orders while battalion drill was in progress to get ready for a move were not entirely a surprise; besides, the many rations of the day before were a warning. Arms having been stacked, tents were pulled down and everything made ready for the start, which was about 4 p. m., and a large part of the march to Catlett's station, some seven miles away, was made after dark, hence tedious, made all the more so by the burden of extra rations and a winter outfit of clothing and tent material. Some one has characterised the march as a helter-skelter one, every man "going on his own hook," without regard to regimental formation, let alone so compact a matter as a company; each man camped down where he could do so most comfortably; "there was no roll-call that night." The next day the soldiers found their own, and the Regiment moved half a mile or so from the night's bivouac and pitched tents on a side-hill, resuming the routine of regular camp life, and entry is made of the burning of the tall grass which grew near, necessitating some energetic work on the part of the campers to extinguish, and the all too apparent exertions of the preceding twenty-four hours merited the whiskey ration which was dealt out.

That no degree of permanency had yet been attained was evident when early orders were received to be ready to march at 6.30 a. m. of the 7th, and the start was made at 7, much nearer than usual to the allotted hour, and the trend was southward, through Warrenton Junction and Elktown to the vicinity of Morristown, a few miles from the Rappahannock. Not only was the entire First Corps in motion but the same was true of the Second and Third as well, all indications pointed to a resumption of the status prior to the October Northward move. Whatever the plans or purposes, they were not carried out without provocation to firing as appeared in the sounds from the river region; later knowledge acquaints us that the noise arose from portions of the Sixth and Fifth Corps at Rappahannock Station and the Third Corps at Kelly's Ford, disputing possession with the ever present and always vigilant enemy. The distance marched varied according to the one estimating, the same ranging from fifteen to seventeen miles. In October, 4.30 a. m. is a long while before daylight, yet this was the time of waking on the 8th and, after the very essential coffee-making, the line was off soon after six o'clock. The first considerable halt was at Grove Church where were seen a large number of Confederate wounded from yesterday's engagements.