The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Thirty-Ninth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, 1862-1865, by Alfred S. (Alfred Seelye) Roe

Colonel P. Stearns Davis

THE
THIRTY-NINTH
REGIMENT
MASSACHUSETTS VOLUNTEERS
1862-1865

By ALFRED S. ROE
A VETERAN OF THE CIVIL WAR

Regimental Committee on History

JOHN H. DUSSEAULT, Chairman
J. FRED. LESLIE, Secretary
GEO. F. MOSES, Treasurer
JOHN F. LOCKE
WM. P. BROWN[A]
MILTON F. ROBERTS
CHANNING WHITTAKER[A]

Published by the
REGIMENTAL VETERAN ASSOCIATION
WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS
1914

Copyright, 1914, by
Thirty-Ninth Regiment
Veteran Association

THE COMMONWEALTH PRESS
WORCESTER, MASS.

PREFACE

More than fifty years after the organization of the Thirty-ninth Regiment and its departure for the seat of war, its printed history makes its appearance. The long delay has not arisen from any lack of desire for its preparation, nor on account of want of material. For many long years it was supposed that the recital was in preparation, but the comrade to whom the task was intrusted went away into the other world before its completion, and survivors of the Regiment began to wonder if their story of long marches, fierce fighting and unspeakable suffering in Rebel prisons ever would be told. At the annual reunion of the Veteran Association in 1911 it was voted to proceed with the long cherished proposition, and a committee was appointed to carry out the proposal; after two years and a half the survivors of that committee present this volume to the patient waiters among the living veterans and to the families and descendants of those who have made the final crossing.

Readers of the book should bear in mind that it is very far from being a history of the war, nor does it discuss campaigns and battles in their entirety; on the contrary every effort has been made to describe the part borne by the Regiment in said campaigns and engagements. Long shelves in the large libraries of the country are already laden with great volumes descriptive of the War of the Rebellion as a whole and of detached portions thereof; as many more have been written of eminent individual experience, like the recollections of Grant, Sherman, Sheridan on the Union side and of Beauregard, Johnston and Longstreet among the Confederates, but the story of the great struggle will not be fully told until that of every regiment finds its way into print. Regimental histories occupy a golden mean between the comprehensiveness of the general history and the minuteness of individual records.

Massachusetts veterans can not be too grateful that the Commonwealth in its wisdom, a number of years ago, offered to assist in the preparation and publication of regimental histories by the purchase of five hundred copies of the same, under certain conditions of size and contents. In this manner and otherwise, more than one-half of the organizations of the Bay State which participated in the effort to maintain the Union have been written and it is hoped that the generosity of the Commonwealth and the courage of the veterans will continue until every regiment, battery and battalion will have been adequately described. While those who made the history are rapidly passing over the divide 'twixt life and death, and personal recollections are more difficult to obtain, yet their stories are not written so much, at this late date, from word of mouth as from letters, diaries and jottings made at the time and now are carefully preserved either by the writers or those to whom they have passed as precious legacies.

A history like this of the Thirty-ninth represents many letters written to veterans or to their surviving families in the effort to secure for transcription whatever note the soldier may have made in camp, field or prison-pen, bearing on the period in which the writer wore the blue. In several cases, through fear of losing the precious documents, friends of deceased soldiers have declined to lend them for use; of course it is too late to secure them for utility in this instance but, for the sake of other efforts in this direction, let us hope that those people possessing any written observations on the trying times of 1861-'65 will freely proffer their employment by those interested in their permanent preservation. It is a lamentable fact that many papers prepared under the fire of the enemy or, at least, in that indefinite region known as the "Front," have disappeared through the extra diligence of careful housekeepers and the general dislike of "old things lying 'round."

While many months in the earlier portions of the service of the Thirty-ninth were devoted to drill and thorough preparation, including a prolonged stay in the city of Washington, yet the call to the field, soon after Gettysburg, was so obeyed that before the seal of Appomattox was set upon the fate of the Confederacy, Colonel Davis' men had proved beyond any chance for cavil that they were of the same stuff that had rallied so readily at Concord and Lexington; had bled in the streets of Baltimore and, on the decks of the Constitution and the Monitor, had shown the world what was meant by resistance to tyranny. Its first officer was killed at the front; the third mortally wounded, and the second so severely injured that his life was long despaired of and seemingly was saved as by a miracle. At the Weldon R. R., on the 19th of August, 1864, so completely was the Regiment swept off the field, through no fault of its own, its organization was nearly lost, and the deaths in the prisons of the South of these victims exceeded those of all other Massachusetts Infantry Regiments with a single exception.

In seeking printed data for condensation in this narrative the committee was rewarded in finding in the Fourth Volume of the Printed Papers of the Massachusetts Military Historical Society a very clear and interesting description of the "Operations of the Army of the Potomac, May 7-11, 1864" by Brevet Brigadier-General Charles Lawrence Peirson, the universally loved and respected Colonel of the Thirty-ninth, and from his observations liberal abstracts have been made for the edification of readers of this history. In the same volume also are found papers by Captain Charles H. Porter, Companies D and A of the Regiment, and always so active in the councils of the Veteran Association, who discusses the "Opening of the Campaign of 1864" and the "Battle of Cold Harbor," valuable in considering the parts taken in those incidents by the Regiment in which he served. Access also has been had to typewritten papers on the part borne by the Fifth Corps in the last three days of March, '65, and "The Fifth Corps at Five Forks" also prepared by Captain Porter and which have proved of great utility in this compilation.

Naturally, the papers of General Peirson and Captain Porter are of a general character, somewhat removed from the individual, but quite the reverse is found in the well preserved accounts of company experience as presented in contributions to the Woburn Journal by Albert P. Barrett of Co. K, to the Medford Mercury by John S. Beck of "C" and in the monograph of Lieut. John H. Dusseault of Company E. Unfortunately, the spirited story, as told by the Woburn scribe, goes no further than the Mine Run campaign, leaving the reader longing for a continuation of his glowing recital; Diarist Beck returns his comrades, those who survived, to their home-town, while the Somerville chronicler, whose observations are clear and instructive up to the date of his wound and consequent invalidism is compelled to end his direct comments on that direful August day of '64 at the Weldon R. R. However, whether general or specific, extended or condensed, the readers of the history owe much to the careful annalist of those trying days of the early sixties.

Thanks are due the survivors who by their answers to circular letters rendered possible the exceedingly full roster, wherein are found the individual records whence must be drawn in coming years the facts for those seeking admission to patriotic organizations on the strength of ancestral service in preserving the Union. It is a source of regret that data could not be obtained for extending the descriptive list of every name in the Regiment. Especially are thanks due to General Peirson for his unflagging interest in the work of preparation and for his generosity in helping on the undertaking. The committee representing the Veteran Association is entitled to the thanks of all concerned for its careful attention to details, for the time given to rehearsals of the story as it progressed and for its unfailing willingness and promptness in assisting in every possible manner. At the same time it is impossible to suppress the regrets that inevitably rise over the seemingly untimely deaths of comrades Brown and Whittaker. Possibly no one had been more prominent than the first named in laying out the work and securing data for the story, but he was called away in the very midst of the preparation; Comrade Whittaker entered into the scheme with all the zeal and ardor so characteristic of his intense nature, and died, as it were, pen in hand, inditing the story of the terrible opening of The Battle Summer as he remembered it.

Thanks also should be rendered to the Brothers Mentzer and Mitchell of "A" for anecdotes and incidents; to Geo. V. Shedd and Edward H. Lewis of "B" for the use of their diaries; to the family of the late John S. Beck of "C" for the loan of his well preserved diary, and to M. F. Roberts for other Company C facts; to the widow of Captain C. H. Porter, "D" and "A," for the use of his scrapbook, manuscripts and other data; to Lieut. J. H. Dusseault, "E," for his accurate and interesting account of the Somerville Company; to the family of John E. Horton for his painstaking diary; and to Ex-mayor Edward Glines, Somerville, for the use of the carefully kept diary of his brother Frederick A.; to Lieut. Jas. E. Seaver, secretary of the Old Colony Historical Society, Taunton, for valuable data concerning Company F, its officers and men; to Lieut. Chas. H. Chapman and Sergt. J. H. Prouty, "G," for facts concerning that company; to George Monk, "H," for his brother Robert's diary; to Lieut. H. F. Felch, W. H. Garfield and the Hon. H. C. Mulligan, son of Lieut. Simon Mulligan, for facts pertaining to Company I; and to the family of A. P. Barrett, "K," for the scrapbook having his letters to the Woburn Journal; George E. Fowle, Abijah Thompson and Capt. E. F. Wyer (Fifth M. V. M.) for Company K data and incidents; to all those whose journals and recollections rendered possible the unexcelled accounts of prison experiences. Finally, all concerned unite in thanks to the ever efficient and courteous corps of officers and assistants in the office of the adjutant-general at the State House for favors there extended.

Worcester, December, 1913 ALFRED S. ROE.

BATTLES IN WHICH THE THIRTY-NINTH
BORE A PART

1863

Mine Run, November 28

1864

Wilderness, May 5-7
Spottsylvania (Alsop's Farm and Laurel Hill), May 8-18
North Anna River, May 23
Cold Harbor, June 1-11
Petersburg, June 17-August 17
Weldon R. R., August 18-19

1865

Hatcher's Run or Dabney's Mills, February 6
Gravelly Run or White Oak Road, March 31
Five Forks, April 1

Surrender at Appomattox,
April 9

IN THE BEGINNING

While patriotism never flagged for a moment, and the determination to maintain the Union at all hazards was still as strong as ever, it must be confessed that the midsummer military outlook in 1862 was not altogether inspiring for the Nation. Whatever hopes had been raised by the success of Burnside in North Carolina, by Grant's campaign in Tennessee, and through the occupation of New Orleans by the combined forces of Butler and Farragut, they had been more than offset by the failure of McClellan's efforts on the peninsula and the unfruitful outcome of Halleck's movement against Corinth. An army that had displayed prodigies of valor from Fair Oaks to Malvern Hill, now catching its breath on the banks of the James River, and an enemy leisurely departing from the depot which Halleck had thought thoroughly invested, were bitter morsels for Northern people who had been led to expect the capture of Richmond and a like fate for the rebel forces which had fallen back from Shiloh.

The slopes of Malvern were still red with the blood of fallen heroes when President Lincoln, on the 4th of July, 1862, startled the nation with a call for three hundred thousand additional troops. The land was rapidly becoming one vast armed camp; Massachusetts already had sent nearly or quite fifty thousand men into the army and navy, out of her population of less than one and a half million people, but before the year was done, the aggregate was swollen to more than eighty thousand. Out of the great number called for, the assignment to Massachusetts was fifteen thousand and, on the seventh of the month, Governor Andrew formally presented the demand to the people of the Commonwealth. Hitherto, there had been no regular apportionment, each division of the state having been ready and anxious to aid in filling whatever quota might be required. In this case there was a clear statement of what each city and town, from Abington to Yarmouth would be expected to do.

Concerning the number called for, the president in a private telegram to Governor Morgan of New York said, "It was thought safest to mark high enough. I should not want the half of 300,000 new troops if I could have them now. If I had 50,000 additional troops here now, I believe I could substantially close the war in two weeks. But time is everything; and if I get 50,000 new men in a month I shall have lost 20,000 old ones during the same month, having gained only 30,000 with the difference between old and new troops still against me. The quicker you send, the less you will have to send. Time is everything, please act in view of this." All this time, it must be remembered, Governor Andrew, in a mild way, was criticising the National Administration for its failure to liberate the slaves and for not imposing upon them many of the hardships borne by the regularly enlisted men.

Nor were the needs of the Government satisfied with the demand of July 4th, however large it may have seemed, for, while the entire loyal North was putting forth every possible effort to secure the required enlistments there came from Washington, on the 4th of August, another call for troops, this time also demanding three hundred thousand men, just as though there were a never-ending source of supply. This call was accompanied by the possibility of a draft, that most dreaded of all methods for securing reinforcements, provided the volunteers did not appear within a certain limited period; the apportionment, 19,080 men, it will be observed was more than a fourth larger than that in the preceding call, an excess explained on the basis that the total number, 34,080, bore the same proportion to the 600,000, the sum of the two calls, that the free population of Massachusetts did to the free population in the states that had shown themselves loyal to the Union, and were supporting the Government in the struggle.

A very prominent question in the emergency was just how should the newly enlisted men be placed; should they be added to regiments already in the field or should new organizations be made for their reception? Excellent arguments were offered on both sides; the question had been discussed from the very moment that battles or disease had begun making gaps in the ranks. When Mayor Isaac Davis, after the disastrous engagement of Ball's Bluff, telegraphed to Colonel Charles Devens, of the Fifteenth Massachusetts Infantry, asking what Worcester could do for the regiment, the subsequently distinguished officer replied, "Send us three hundred and ten men to fill our gaps; also a blanket and a pair of mittens for each of us; that will do for the present." The good mayor found it much easier to supply the woolen requirements than the men, who, for certain reasons, were unwilling to enter an old regiment where promotion would inevitably go to those who had been in the ranks longest, and soldiering without the possibilities of promotion is dull business.

Those who have considered carefully the subject of war, its progress and development, have, in many cases, taken occasion to censure some of the Northern States, and especially Massachusetts, forgetful of the fact that local feelings and a confidence in leaders whom the men know go a long way in imparting confidence to the citizen soldier. Governor John A. Andrew would have filled the old regiments, rather than form new ones, and to the newly formed organizations he would have given experienced officers instead of those elected by the men, but the latter would not have it so. In this connection that great man is said to have exclaimed, "Julius Caesar himself couldn't raise a company for an old regiment as long as there is a shoemaker left to make a captain of." The town system, so prominent a feature in New England life, had much to do with the fellow-feeling in companies and when these different companies, representing as many townships, all belonged to the same county, seemingly little was left to be desired in the background of the organization.

The numbering of Massachusetts Infantry organizations had already mounted to thirty before the call of the President in July, 1862. Recruiting was very active, notwithstanding the horrors of war, so graphically set forth in the daily press. Meetings to stimulate enlistments were held throughout the Commonwealth, becoming a daily occurrence in the City of Boston, where her historic buildings and public places resounded with eloquence in behalf of the Union and its preservation. Points of rendezvous were provided at Pittsfield, Worcester, Lynnfield, Readville, and other places for regiments, while Camp Cameron at North Cambridge was reserved for recruits to the older organizations. Within two months from the issuing of Governor Andrew's Order Number 26[B], dated July 7th, more than four thousand men had been enlisted and sent forward to old regiments, nine new ones had been raised and equipped, and eight of them had been sent forward to strengthen the hands of the Government. So diligently had the governor and his assistants labored, the dreaded draft was averted and, long before the first snowfall, the last of the great demand upon Massachusetts for the sons whom she had reared for other purposes, had gone southward, gun in hand, following the flag.

Sometimes regiments were raised by officers commissioned for this purpose; in other cases companies were raised in cities or large towns which, when full, were sent forward to the nearest rendezvous and, when a sufficient number had been thus assembled, the regimental organization followed. Many towns could not furnish men enough for a company, so the men went forward in squads or individually and these recruits either pieced out some company, not quite filled, or were thrown together to constitute a new company, this being the case with Company G of the Thirty-ninth, which had no central source like those of the others. Lynnfield had been designated as the point to which should be sent all Eastern Massachusetts volunteers for new regiments, while to North Cambridge, Camp Cameron, were forwarded the men who had enlisted in old organizations. These two points were to receive the three years' soldiers from the counties of Barnstable, Bristol, Dukes, Essex, Middlesex, Nantucket, Norfolk, Plymouth and Suffolk. Already in Camp Edwin M. Stanton, Lynnfield, usually called Camp Stanton, were the Thirty-fifth and the Thirty-eighth Regiments in process of formation and along with the Thirty-ninth in reporting there was the Fortieth; later came the Forty-first, the last of the three years' regiments under the July call.

LYNNFIELD

Several of the companies constituting the Thirty-ninth, had left their respective towns under the belief that they were to join the Thirty-fifth, but that organization and also the Thirty-eighth were so far completed, that the numerals "39" became the designation of the regiment, whose story is progressing here. Lynnfield had been a rendezvous, already, for the Seventeenth, Nineteenth, Twenty-second and Twenty-third regiments and, however satisfactory it may have proved for those bodies, it was clearly inadequate to the demands of the several thousand men to congregate here during July and August. Placed on a branch railroad, it was difficult of access and did not have space for the formation of a regimental line; so rapidly did the volunteers report, they found only scant comforts in their rendezvous. While only thirteen miles from Boston and being nearer still to Lynn, the rush of recruits to the rendezvous sadly tried the resources of the commissary, and made many a boy wish he were elsewhere. Says one observer, "No preparation had been made for our reception; finally however, tents were found for a portion of the company and we passed the first night in camp in anything but a peaceful frame of mind or body. Quite a number of the men left camp for home, or found quarters elsewhere. Rations, too, were conspicuously absent and for a time we depended on outside sources for our supply." Time, and patience however, relieved many of these distresses. The companies as they reached camp were known only by the name of the town whence they came, or that of the officer who was in command. Their designation by letters of the alphabet came later. Herewith follows a brief account of the several companies, their respective beginnings, their organization and time of reporting at Camp Stanton.

COMPANY A

South Danvers, since 1868 Peabody.

The allotment of this town on account of the call for troops was seventy-five. An enthusiastic meeting was held July 11, in the Town Hall, over which B. C. Perkins presided and at which the Rev. Mr. Barber and others spoke. A committee on resolutions was appointed consisting of Messrs. F. Poole, Lewis Allen, John D. Poore, Alfred McKenzie and Dr. George Osborne. A committee of nine members was also appointed who were to assist or supervise enlistments. On the 21st, the anniversary of the Battle of Bull Run, a special town meeting was held at which it was voted to pay one hundred and fifty dollars' bounty to each volunteer. Speeches were numerous and a committee of forty citizens was appointed, five for each school district, to co-operate with that of nine men already in existence. One-fourth of the quota had been raised in two days. It was voted to borrow twelve thousand dollars, and a committee was appointed to secure the money on time at six per cent.; on the 25th, Friday, a great open air meeting was held in the town square, a platform having been erected in front of the Warren Bank Building. Isaac Hardy presided and spoke as did others. On the next day, Saturday, the recruits, accompanied by about one hundred citizens, under the direction of Roberts S. Daniels, Jr., and having a brass band, marched from the recruiting station to Lynnfield, distant several miles away, an exacting experience for raw recruits on a hot July day. Among those witnessing the departure was one who, fifty years before, had been a prisoner in Dartmoor. All of these newly enlisted men supposed that they were going into the Thirty-fifth Regiment. July 31st, an adjourned town-meeting was held in which it was announced that Eben Sutton, a public spirited citizen, had volunteered to take the entire loan at five and one half per cent., an act that was greeted with great applause by all present. Captain, George S. Nelson; first Lieutenant, Henry W. Moulton; second lieutenant, George H. Wiley; all of South Danvers.

COMPANY B.

Roxbury.

Recruiting began early in Roxbury and on the 10th, there was a special meeting of both branches of the City Government, at which it was voted to give seventy-five dollars to each recruit in addition to whatever the General Government might offer. It was also voted to appropriate thirty thousand dollars for expenses, and the treasurer was directed to borrow. Roxbury's quota was three hundred and eighty-nine; Saturday night, to inspirit enlistments, a public meeting was held in Institute Hall at which Mayor William Gaston (subsequently governor) presided and numerous and eloquent speeches were made, and the previous action of the City Government was publicly endorsed. July 17th, the bounty was raised to one hundred dollars, and on the 19th a brass band concert was given in front of Institute Hall, with an address by the Hon. John C. Park. August 7, the Company, numbering sixty-nine men, under the command of Captain Graham, escorted by the militia of the city, paraded and all were entertained by Colonel Hodges of the Horse Guards in Bacon's Hall, where Judge Russell spoke. Sunday, the 10th, the Company attended service in the first Universalist Church; on the 11th, again escorted by the Horse Guards, the Company paraded through the principal streets to Bacon's Hall where speeches were made by several persons, including Private George F. Moses, of the Company, the latter being filled to its maximum. It was on the 15th of August that the Company assembled and through lines of friends and relatives, at a little before noon, started for Boston, whence it took train for Lynnfield, arriving at about three o'clock, p. m. Captain, William W. Graham; first lieutenant, William T. Spear; second lieutenant, Julius M. Swain.

COMPANY C.

Medford.

Medford's popular company, the Lawrence Light Guard, had already distinguished itself in the Fifth M. V. M., under the first call for troops, and was enjoying something akin to dignified ease when the president's call for three hundred thousand men placed new responsibilities upon all the cities and towns, Medford having to raise eighty-eight men as her quota. Though the selectmen, acting under the governor's orders, did their best as recruiting officers, and though there was an offer of seventy-five dollars' bounty, voted by the town, and though on the 21st of July the offer was increased to one hundred dollars, the eligible men did not seem disposed to enlist until, on the 29th of the month, the selectmen addressed a letter to the Light Guard, asking its members to step to the front and assist in filling the requisition. The request was complied with at once and, on the 14th of August, the company was complete with its complement of one hundred and one men, including many who had served under the earlier demand. Mustered in on the 14th, it left Medford for Lynnfield on the 25th of August under most auspicious circumstances, these including religious exercises, speeches and the presence of thousands of sympathetic people. The commissioned officers, all of whom had been out with Colonel Lawrence, were captain, John Hutchins; first lieutenant, Perry Coleman; second lieutenant, Isaac F. R. Hosea.

COMPANY D.

Quincy.

The quota of Quincy was one hundred and five men; and to secure this number of new soldiers the first meeting was held in the Town Hall, July 12th; a special one, called by the selectmen, and the crowd was so great that the hall would not hold it. Chief Justice Bigelow, presided and spoke, being followed by Josiah Quincy, Jr., John Quincy Adams and others; it was voted to offer a bounty of seventy-five dollars, and patriotic resolutions were adopted. At a meeting held July 21st, it was voted to raise the bounty to one hundred and twenty-five dollars. The third meeting was held July 29th, with William S. Morton presiding; addresses were made by Lieut. Colonel Henry Walker of Quincy, Lieut. Colonel Guiney of the Ninth Regiment, and by one of the recruits, Charles H. Porter, son of Whitcomb Porter, whose remarks were of a very enthusiastic character, Captain Spear receiving numerous compliments. By the 2nd of August, ninety-six men had been secured, the recruiting being done by a town committee. Monday, the 4th of August, "Good-bye" was said to the Company; line was formed at the Town Hall under escort of Niagara Hose Company, Captain Newcomb; an address was given by Lieut. Colonel Walker, and a collation was served in Lyceum Hall. Thence by horse cars, accompanied by the firemen and a band, the soldiers went to and through Boston, and so on by steam to Lynnfield, reaching that place at about two p. m. There had been one hundred and twelve enlistments in the company, but some had been rejected. On the 22nd, the town generously voted to pay the recruits one dollar per day for the time spent in drilling. This same day the company came home on a furlough, and on the next night, that of Saturday, the men assembled in the Town Hall and presented Captain Spear with a sword, costing fifty dollars, and to First Sergeant John Nichols, a sash and belt. It was a noisily enthusiastic meeting, so much so that very little of the speaking could be heard. Sunday, the 24th, beheld a part of the Company at service in the Universalist Church in the morning and, in the afternoon, Lieutenant McLaughlin, U. S. A., came out from Boston and mustered the Company into the United States service. Monday, the 25th, the men returned to camp, all save three, who were apprehended as deserters and sent after their fellows, everyone proving himself a good soldier afterwards; they were just a trifle dilatory in keeping up. Captain, Edward A. Spear; first lieutenant, William G. Sheen; second lieutenant, Charles H. Porter.

COMPANY E.

Somerville.

For the apportionment of fifteen thousand men to the Commonwealth, Somerville had to raise ninety-two men and this she succeeded in doing within the months of July and August. The aggregate bounty paid each enlisted man was one hundred and twenty-five dollars, one hundred dollars coming from the town, the remainder from private subscription.

The selectmen, acting as agents, had recommended three men as commissioned officers of the projected company, and these, all of whom had seen service in the Somerville Company of the Fifth Regiment, M. V. M., in its three months' tour of duty, applied themselves diligently to their task. Camp was pitched on Prospect Hill and the flagstaff, erected there and then, remained until the digging down of the hill some fifteen years later; this occupation if possible added to the fame of the spot on which Israel Putnam had intrenched himself after falling back from Bunker Hill. The stay on elevated and breezy Prospect was far from tedious, the nearness of home supplies more than compensating for any hardships incident to camp duties. Mustered into the U. S. service, August 12, the Company remained here until September 2nd, when it proceeded to Boxford, there to join the other companies which were to constitute the Thirty-ninth Regiment, having had no taste of the stay in Lynnfield, the rendezvous of the other companies. The Commissioned officers were captain, Fred R. Kinsley; first lieutenant, Joseph J. Giles; second lieutenant, Willard C. Kinsley. All of the officers had been commissioned in the Thirty-eighth Regiment, Captain Kinsley and Lieutenant Giles, August 14th, and Lieutenant Kinsley, August 8th, but the assignment of the company to the Thirty-ninth Regiment compelled the transferal of the officers.

Captain Frederick R. Kinsley
B'v't Major and Colonel

COMPANY F.

Taunton.

Work for the formation of what was to be Company F did not begin until the 5th day of August, when a meeting of the sub-committee of the military committee was held to consider the raising of a new company, Captain Presbry, one of the selectmen, presiding, with T. Gordon, secretary. Joseph J. Cooper was authorized to raise a company under the conditions as stated in a letter of the Adjutant General, dated July 29, '64, and the general order of the War Department, Number Seventy-five. The Taunton Gazette comments that the lieutenancies will be offered to Isaac D. Paul and John D. Reed, both men of integrity, and "it is believed that the company will be speedily filled and that it will be one of the most creditable of those provided by Taunton." The record for the 6th of August was that Captain Cooper had opened a recruiting office in Templar Hall Building, and had secured about a dozen names. By the 7th, the total had risen to twenty-four men; the 8th saw thirty-six names enrolled and, on the 11th, the tide had risen to forty-seven good and true patriots. The 13th beheld the citizens assembled in town meeting, wherein it was voted to increase the bounty to two hundred dollars, thus adding a stimulus which resulted in filling the company to the maximum. The 18th was a day of memories for the good old town, since on this date the new company departed for the rendezvous at Lynnfield. The largest assemblage of people that the town had seen since the leaving of the Seventh Regiment, early in the war, was out at seven o'clock in the morning to witness the going of the new soldiers. They formed on the green, whence they were escorted by the Light Guard, with music by the Bridgewater Brass Band, to the railroad station. Followed by the enthusiastic cheering of the populace, the men were borne away to new scenes and experiences. Five days later or on the 23rd, the men had a furlough home for twenty-four hours, returning to camp on the 24th. Of course, Company F moved with the other companies in the transfer to Boxford, where on the 3rd of September, a noteworthy incident took place. The men of Taunton's company were drawn up in front of their tents when George Childs, Esq., in behalf of Taunton citizens, presented Captain Cooper and Lieutenants Paul and Reed with elegantly mounted revolvers, each officer responding in a very happy manner. Captain, Joseph J. Cooper; first lieutenant, Isaac D. Paul; second lieutenant, John D. Reed.

COMPANY G.

Boston, Hingham, Scituate and the South Shore.

From information furnished chiefly by Lieut. J. H. Prouty it seems that Hingham was about as liberal a contributor to Company G as any single place, having thirty-seven men in the ranks of "G" and another in "D." It was the only company in the regiment that started without some local head or centre. When the call came, Hingham took action at once, and on the 5th held a town meeting at four o'clock p. m., with Captain John Stephenson presiding; it was voted to raise five thousand dollars to aid the families of volunteers as state aid, and a thousand more to be distributed under the direction of the selectmen. July 11th brought the people together again, in the evening of Friday, to take action towards filling the town's quota of fifty-one men; Luther Stephenson presided and several patriotic addresses were given; it was voted to pay seventy-five dollars bounty to every man enlisting, a committee of twelve was appointed to co-operate with the selectmen in securing enlistments. This committee met on the 15th, organized, heard a deal of eloquent speaking and voted to recommend to the townspeople that a bounty of one hundred dollars be paid to every volunteer. The Town accepted, July 19th, the recommendation of the citizens' committee. On the same evening, a number of volunteers put down their names. An adjourned war meeting was held on the 22nd, and a large committee of ladies was chosen to help forward the filling of the quota. The next meeting, August 6th, was on the call of the ladies and was largely attended; August 15th, the town voted to make the bounty for each volunteer two hundred dollars. The thirty-seven Hingham men who went into Company G were not all new to service, for two, at least, had gone out with the Lincoln Light Infantry in the Fourth Regiment in 1861, on the first call for troops. The volunteers expected to go with the Thirty third Massachusetts; next with the Thirty-fifth, but finally fetched up with the Thirty-ninth. They had no officers. The governor commissioned, as captain, Ezra J. Trull, better known as "Jack" Trull, who had been a corporal in the Thirteenth Massachusetts, and he was assigned to the command of "G." Though only nineteen years old, he was one of the best drilled officers in the regiment and his active, stirring nature kept his company in excellent shape. He was a Boston man, as was the first lieutenant, C. W. Thompson; the second lieutenant, C. Henry Chapman, was from Cambridge. First and last, more than thirty cities and towns contributed to the roll of the company.

COMPANY H.

Dorchester.

Early action was taken in Dorchester towards raising the town's quota of one hundred and thirty-seven men. On the 15th of July, the citizens convened at the town hall with James H. Upham, moderator, and they started proceedings by the singing of patriotic songs. It was voted to pay all recruits one hundred dollars, and to borrow fourteen thousand dollars for such purpose. The selectmen were empowered to carry out the expressed will of the meeting and the same board was directed to see to the securing of enlistments, by the appointment of a "suitable person" to raise a military company as a part of the town's quota. The Hall had been plentifully bedecked with flags, some one hundred in number, among them there being one that had been borne in the Revolution. Besides, there were curios and relics to excite the curiosity and patriotism of all beholders, the display being the work of Frederick F. Hassam, who received the enthusiastic thanks of the meeting for his thoughtfulness and action. On the 19th there was a great meeting on Meeting House Hill, with artillery company firing sixty-eight guns and the Hon. Marshall P. Wilder presiding; of the event the Boston Journal says: "Shoulder Arms! Forward, March!" The Company left Dorchester Wednesday, August 13, receiving a parting salute from Captain Harris' Battery; in Boston there was a short parade with refreshments, 1.30 p. m., at John Preston's chocolate establishment on State Street. A hearty escort was given by the selectmen, many citizens, and Fire Engine Company Number 5, and all kept step to music afforded by a brass band. From Boston, cars on the Boston and Maine Railroad bore the men, one hundred and thirty-seven in number, to Lynnfield. Captain, Charles N. Hunt; first lieutenant, Robert Rhodes; second lieutenant, Robert Williams.

COMPANY I.

Natick.

Natick was expected to provide one hundred and three men, or just a company, and this she set about doing through a meeting in the evening of July 17th, in School House Hall, over which the Hon. J. W. Bacon presided. To report a plan of action, the following committee was appointed: Leonard Winch, John J. Perry and E. P. Fay. Another meeting on the 25th voted to pay volunteers one hundred and fifty dollars each, and a committee of fifteen was appointed to assist the recruiting officers. Monday, July 28th, brought out a great meeting which was addressed by United States Senator Henry Wilson, Capt. Ephraim H. Brigham and others. By August 1st, matters had reached ignition pitch with a great meeting in the Town Hall, Captain Brigham presiding; there were eloquent speeches, but the one which excited the most admiration was that of Benning Hall, Jr., the village expressman, who on this occasion made his first public address, chiefly to his comrades, of whom twenty-two had put down their names. The fourth public meeting was held August 4th, in School House Hall, Lieut. Simon Mulligan in the chair, and it was voted to act at once, and to talk afterwards. Then followed "a scene such as few people ever witness" when forty-seven men marched up and signed the roll amid waving hats and handkerchiefs, the very best men in the grand old town. The Hon. Henry Wilson was present and spoke, as did Edward Choate, G. L. Sawin, H. B. Moore, C. B. Phillips and B. Hill, Jr. In one week Natick had raised one hundred and twenty-seven men for her company, twenty-four more than necessary. It was Saturday, August 9, that, escorted by the Victor and Union Fire Company, and crowds of citizens, the Natick newly enlisted men set forth for their rendezvous. After a brief parade in Boston, Lynnfield was sought in the afternoon, where the reception was not just what the would-be soldiers expected. So many recruits had reported there was no room for the Natick people, who had to hire a building outside for use until the departure of a regiment gave them access to the regular quarters. Captain, Ephraim H. Brigham; first lieutenant, Simon Mulligan; second lieutenant, William H. Brown.

COMPANY K.

Woburn.

Woburn's assignment was ninety-eight men and it came at a time when recruiting was dull. Still the selectmen, in obedience to State House orders, called a meeting of Union loving citizens in the Town Hall, on the evening of Saturday, the 12th of July. The response was large and enthusiastic; it was voted to give every volunteer a bounty of one hundred dollars and a committee of fifteen was appointed to forward enlistments. It was further voted to call a town meeting on the 24th of the month for the purpose of carrying out the provisions of this popular gathering. Thirty-three men had enlisted or put down their Aug., '62 names before the excitement began or the offer of bounty was made, and these men became "the immortal thirty-three" in company annals. Recruiting began on the 15th, and was very slow, though the office was open day and evening. At the town meeting, it was voted to give a bounty of one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and enlistments thereupon increased. Under the encouragement of a grand rally and a banquet in upper Lyceum Hall in the evening of the 24th, followed by a march through the streets accompanied by a brass band and speeches by prominent citizens, the roll of enlistments reached fifty names. Subsequent rallies and parades resulted in the securing of considerably more than the required number by the 1st of August. On the 5th of the month, after a collation in Lyceum Hall, escorted by the Fire Department, the company departed for the rendezvous, Camp Stanton, in Lynnfield, having the following commissioned officers: captain, John I. Richardson; first lieutenant, Luke R. Tidd; second lieutenant, Luther F. Wyman.

Life at a rendezvous camp is much the same, wherever found. The change from the untrammeled habits of home to the restrained conditions of military life is seldom made without friction on the part of the newly enlisted men, and if there were a lack of quarters, an insufficiency of food, and if the latter were of indifferent quality, they were only features to be expected wherever and whenever inexperienced citizens undertake the transforming act of becoming soldiers. However disagreeable some of the conditions at Camp Stanton may have been, nothing was encountered there that would not have been laughed at, when two years later the men were passing through the exactions of the "Battle Summer" or later still, when they realized the horrors of Salisbury and Andersonville. Nor were the days of Lynnfield altogether disagreeable to the recruits, for were there not the visits of home friends who always came laden with the best of goodies for the "boys," and passes for brief trips to the homes themselves? Besides every day had its round of duties, such as guard, the policing of the camp and the early induction to drill, even before the giving out of uniform and arms.

Col. Edward F. Jones, who had won distinction in the earlier months of the war as commander of the Sixth Regiment, and later had been assigned to the colonelcy of the Twenty-sixth Infantry, was in command of the camp and occasionally the newly made soldiers repined at the rigor of his commands, quite uncalled for to their undisciplined minds. Nothing, however, better exhibited the adaptability of the American soldier than the speed with which the material from school, shop and farm, caught the step, learned the manual and responded to the command of superior officers. In the case of the companies that were to constitute the Thirty-ninth Regiment, they arrived after the most of the desirable quarters had been taken by the men of the Thirty-fifth and the Thirty-eighth Regiments. The first named departed for the front on the 22nd of August; on the 24th, the Thirty-eighth took train for the South and as colonel went Timothy Ingraham who originally had been commissioned as the leader of the Thirty-ninth; a Captain in the Third Infantry during the three months' service, he had been lieutenant colonel in the Eighteenth Infantry and there were feelings of regret when the New Bedford officer was transferred to the earlier numbered organization.

BOXFORD

The limitations of Lynnfield finally became so apparent that the authorities determined to seek a new location and officers were directed to investigate, the result being that Boxford, still further away from Boston (twenty-eight miles) was selected. Here were the grounds that had been used as a musterfield by the Second Brigade, Second Division Sept. 1, '62 of the State Militia and, on this extended plain by the side of a beautiful pond of water, it was determined to pitch the new camp. Orders were given for the cooking of three days' rations and on the 28th, by special trains the troops were transferred from Lynnfield to Boxford. It is possible that had the nearness of the day of starting for the front been known the trouble of removal had been avoided. Colonel Jones still commanded the camp which continued to be called "Stanton" and the commandant's rules were quite as rigid as ever. On the 29th, some of the soldiers were gladdened by the receipt from the State of twenty-five dollars' bounty and they soon found ways enough for disposing of it, though many of them had signed allotment papers, agreeing to have a portion of their pay reserved for friends at home.

Camp life during the week's stay in Boxford had its share of variation such as came from short trips away, the visits of friends, the receiving of uniforms, arms and equipments and the presentation of gifts to officers and men. Sept. 1st brought Col. P. Stearns Davis, the new commander of the Thirty-ninth Regiment. A brigadier general in the militia, he had been one of the most efficient of those assisting Governor Andrew in organizing and forwarding regiments, and the governor parted from the officer with regret; he succeeded Colonel Jones in the command of the Camp. Company officers were remembered by their friends, both those in the ranks and outside; on the 29th of August, his company gave to Captain Richardson of "K" a set of equipments and on the 1st of September, when on leave of absence in Woburn, Lieutenants Tidd and Wyman were presented by citizens with swords and sashes. Sept. 2nd, Company E, from Somerville, appeared in camp, the very last to report. On the 3rd, the commissioned officers of Company F, Taunton, were given revolvers by their fellow townsmen, of whom there was a goodly number present, their representative being George Childs, Esq. On this day also Springfield rifles were placed in the men's hands, accoutrements following on the 4th, so that they began to feel like real soldiers. On the 3rd also appeared Lieutenant Ladd, U. S. A., who began paying out one month's pay in advance. During these days the ladies of Woburn made and presented to the Woburn Company (K) a National flag, Miss Henrietta M. Young making the address of presentation and Lieutenant Tidd receiving, though the acceptance speech, in the absence of the captain, was made by Lieutenant Wyman. The flag was returned to Woburn to be retained there until the return of the company from its three years' term of service.

BOXFORD TO WASHINGTON.

On Friday, the 5th, came the regimental colors and orders to prepare three days' rations against the expected departure of the Thirty-ninth on the following day, and the same day saw the first dress-parade of the regiment under the command of Colonel Davis, also the efforts of embryo soldiers as they tried to pack into a knapsack two or three times as much as it would hold. When the active campaigning began, they were to learn some of the wisdom of Socrates when he exclaimed, "How many things there are that I do not need." Breaking camp on the morning of the 6th was a spirited affair and, after an early breakfast, line was formed and the men marched to the station not far from 8 o'clock a. m. Here came a lesson in delay that was to be repeated many times as the years moved on. Boston was sighted between 1 and 2 p. m. and, speedily disembarking, the regiment took its way through the city to the Boston and Worcester station. The day was extremely hot, the men had overloaded their knapsacks, hence many suffered badly, some having to fall out, though all reached the station in time for the train. Company E, Somerville, held the right of the line and "C" Medford, the left, so that double-quick, with the Medford men, was the order Sept. 6, '62 occasionally which, considering the heat, was a trying test. Of the march through Washington Street, the Boston Journal has this comment, "The men appeared hardy, robust and of excellent fighting material and were evidently superior in drill to many of the new regiments."

Though the crowds were great and friends by the hundred, not to say thousands, were there to say "Good-bye," the greetings and partings were had in passing, as the quickstep was kept through the city. At the station, the regiment was soon entrained for Worcester, as its next step on its southern way. There was no lack of interest in the departure by people all along the route to Worcester, and there the good citizens were not slow in supplying food, somewhat more appetizing than the rations borne in the haversacks; said rations in many cases became useless through the taste imparted by the recently painted receptacles, the traces of turpentine working through. One veteran relates, at this late day, his anguish over the spoiling of a quantity of fresh mother's made doughnuts. Thence, via the Norwich route, the way was southward, the first train reaching Groton, Connecticut, the summer terminus, about 10.30 in the evening. As the soldier-laden train was in two sections, there was a somewhat prolonged wait here for the arrival of the second part. However, sometime between 10.30 and midnight the steamer "City of New York" proceeded on its way to the great city, along the Sound, over which had passed so many New England men and boys on their Union-preserving mission. Though there was ample space on the soft side of the respective decks for the soldiers to lie down, there was altogether too much novelty for them to encamp at once. While the majority secured some sleep during the passage, there were those who watched the night through and were ready to greet the dawn and to experience the sensations of an early approach to the mightiest city of the Western Continent. Those who saw that sunrise and the course through East River and the final round-up at the Jersey City landing never forgot it; besides, the morning sights included a view of the "Great Eastern", the famous British steamship, then the greatest in the world and the wonder of all beholders.

Sunday morning at 8 o'clock, the steamer was docked at Jersey City and soon afterward the regiment was again embarked on a train for the trip through New Jersey and, though it was Sunday and, presumably, many people were at church, there seemed to be no lack of generous citizens, ready to supply the most luscious of fruit and to prove that whatever fun might be had at the expense of the state's being a "foreign country" the hearts of the people were all right. The day itself was in that delightful early fall, when Dame Nature does her best to outdo her June wonders, and the hearts of the Massachusetts travellers were all aglow as they saw the possibilities of the Garden State and when, having been ferried across the Delaware River, Philadelphia was reached, every man was in splendid appetite for the lavish lunch that the ladies of the City of Brotherly Love had prepared for them in the Cooper Refreshment Rooms. Few Eastern soldiers failed at some time in their experience to test the hospitality of William Penn's great city and that veteran is yet to be found who does not wax eloquent over the spread there afforded, and that was his without money and without price.

The march through Philadelphia was an enjoyable one, the people being in such evident sympathy with the men, who at every step were going further from their own homes and loved ones. When the station was reached, whence they were to start for Baltimore, there was a considerable halt during which the Massachusetts boys had a fine chance to make the acquaintances of certain of the fair daughters of the Keystone State and addresses were exchanged which, in subsequent months, afforded pleasure to both man and maiden, as letters passed between those in the field and the loyal dwellers on the banks of the Schuylkill. The ride southward, according to some of the chroniclers, was not Sept. 7, '62 as enjoyable as the previous portions had been; indeed one careful writer says, "Here the comfort of our journey ceased for we were put aboard cattle cars, with rough and hard seats"; in most cases, no seats at all; yet the time would come when that writer would be delighted to ride standing, on platform cars even, if thereby he could the sooner gain his destination. Wilmington, Delaware, reached at midnight or thereabouts, was the first stop and, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour there was a modified repetition of the Philadelphia reception, every one being anxious to contribute to the well being of the "boys in blue." Among those in waiting were former dwellers in the Bay State who were delighted to grasp the hands of men just from the old home.

The crossing of the Susquehanna River from Perryville, Delaware, to Havre-de-Grace was a source of great interest to these tyros of travel, and whole trains of cars, run aboard great ferryboats at once, for a trip over the river to the Maryland town opposite, excited not a little wonder, if not admiration. On reaching the further side of the river, the usual waiting was experienced and, though it was in the dead of night, those young soldiers were too full of life to allow the time to waste and in their search for mischief they discovered that the place abounded in geese and, long after midnight, these representatives of staid and sober New England awoke not alone the squawking fowls but the people as well and, over and through the gullied ways of this first bit of "Maryland, My Maryland" that they had encountered, these men, on fierce battle bent, pursued these poor feathered bipeds, though what they were to accomplish by a complete round-up, they had not the least notion. However, from any such test they were happily saved by the appearance on the scene of Colonel Davis who, apprised by the noise of the need of his presence, admonished his valiant followers to cease harrying the birds; nor were the mischievous fellows sorry, for they had gone about as far as they could and not have their fun changed into serious fault.

The regiment had reached the region where constant watch was kept over stations, railroad bridges and all points where it might be easy to obstruct transportation; hence the sight of dimly seen figures performing sentinel duty as the train swept along was not a little interesting to the men who were, as rapidly as possible, advancing from the abode of peace and plenty to that of privation and danger. Dawn of the 8th brought with it the entrance of Baltimore by the latest Massachusetts organization and, as the men marched through the silent streets in the early morning, many of them contrasted the reception accorded them in the unquestionably loyal city of Philadelphia, and that in the Monument City, which a year and five months before had caused the first bloodshed in the Civil War. A substantial breakfast was served at the Union refreshment rooms, though nothing like the generous spread made the day before by the ladies of the city on the Schuylkill. Several regiments, like the Thirty-ninth on their way South, were found waiting orders and transportation and the situation was somewhat emphasized by the sudden and serious illness of a number of soldiers, the rumor gaining circulation that they had been poisoned. Fortunately before the irate soldiers could begin retaliatory measures against the people, it was decided that the ailment was simply cholera morbus, occasioned by injudicious eating of green fruit obtained in transit.

Ellicott's Mills, not so very far from Baltimore, towards the west, was at first announced as the destination of the regiment, but, as there was no supply of tents or wagons, the order was countermanded and cars were taken for Washington. The sight of the incomplete Capitol and other public buildings was a glad one to these Massachusetts men who, in spite of warlike intentions, were alive to all of the geographical attractions that they might encounter. Reaching the Nation's centre of activity somewhat late Sept. 9, '62 in the afternoon there was some time in which to take cursory glances of many edifices, already familiar through picture and print. Supper and lodgings were found in the barracks, close by the Baltimore and Ohio depot, and those who did not like the fare at the barracks, and could afford the price, had the privilege of supping outside. Weariness can sleep upon a flinty bed while lazy sloth may toss upon the softest of couches, hence the floor of the so-called "Soldiers' Rest" afforded comfort for the cattle car travellers. In the morning of the 9th, it was discovered that the Tenth Vermont had arrived during the night and was encamped outside, a regiment with which the Thirty-ninth was eventually to be brigaded for a time.

POTOMAC CROSSED.

The breakfast was not of a sort to elicit any great amount of praise from the soldiers and once more those who could got their food outside, and the forenoon was passed largely in seeing the sights of the Capital. Very likely the folks at home were thinking that their boys were so much needed that they were to be ordered into battle-line at once; but all concerned were to learn that in the fiercest of wars there are many waits, and this delay in Washington was incident to finding out just where the Thirty-ninth was to report, for all knew very well they were not to halt there long. The orders came from Gen. Silas Casey in time for them to move out of the city about noon and so to take their way across the Long Bridge, the thoroughfare connection between Washington and Alexandria, then the most famous structure of its kind in America; on account of the vibrations the regular route-step was broken. The day was hot and sultry, the dust intense, made so by the constant passing of horses and men, and the newly enlisted soldiers, loaded down with their bloated knapsacks and other burdens, began to think that soldiering was no joking matter.

While thus advancing into Virginia the Thirteenth Massachusetts Infantry was encountered, the men having all of the activity and swing that come from long experience, though thinned ranks spoke volumes for the encounters they had passed through, but they were in no halting mood and with only the greetings possible in passing the Bay State men kept in motion. It was the time when the disastrous Second Bull Run had necessitated realignment, and measures were afoot which in a little more than a week were to lead up to Antietam. It was a march of seven miles which brought the dust begrimed men to the vicinity of Fort Albany, an extensive fortification situated on the estate of Gen. Robert E. Lee, the famous Virginian so prominent in the Confederate Army, a locality rapidly growing in reputation as Arlington. Though camp equipage had not as yet made its appearance, the weather was so dry and warm no trouble was found in camping without other outfit. In every direction the eye could see very little save tents and campfires, with the passing of long baggage trains, and the night air bore the strains of many bands of music, all joining in a mighty effort to keep the minds of the soldiers alert and free from the care which besets solitude and repose.

On the slopes of Arlington the morning of the 10th found the regiment, its members all alert to observe and learn the lessons of each successive day. The night had brought about great changes, for a large portion of the camps so apparent during the watches of the night had entirely disappeared; to be sure there had been some extra fires during the preceding hours when, as it appeared later, camp debris had been burned, but all of these indications were lost on the newcomers, to whom the symptoms of breaking camp were unfamiliar, and how should they know that already the fates were preparing for Antietam, the bloodiest single day's fight of the entire war? That the enemy was not very remote was currently reported and many of the young soldiers thought they might be Sept. 12, '62 ordered into the fray at an early hour. Then too, for the first time, they saw the coming into the Union line of escaped negroes, the "contrabands" of General Butler's ruling; "strange looking beings," one of the observers remarks. The 11th day differed in no essential from its predecessor save that the arrival of tents permitted the pitching of them and the instituting of regular and strict camp orders. The proximity of great earthworks, known as forts, prompted many to visit them and thus to appreciate the efforts that had been made to render safe the nation's capital. Drills were begun, roll-calls were frequent and the first dress parade in Dixie was recorded for the Thirty-ninth on this day.

After a day of routine on the 12th, while companies were forming for battalion drill, orders came to pack up and be ready to move out. It was after dark and in the midst of a driving rain that the start was made, but through the mud and darkness the regiment proceeded with as much willingness as the circumstances would permit till, at last, after what seemed a very long time and a great distance, really the latter was only two miles, the welcome command, "halt," was heard, and as it was not followed by one to move forward the men were content, the rain having stopped, to throw themselves upon the ground and there to find the rest that ever comes to the weary whatever the conditions. The regiment was now near the outermost lines and pickets were thrown out. The next morning, 13th, revealed the location as near Fort Tillinghast, and work was immediately begun on clearing the ground for a camp, this being the third effort for this purpose made by the men and some of them hoped they might be allowed to remain long enough to see just how a real camp at the front would look. It appeared that to the Thirty-ninth had been assigned the duty of picketing the line between Forts Tillinghast and Craig. Here Sibley tents were received, the same having been left by the Sixteenth Maine on the departure of the latter for the march into Maryland. This was the introduction of the Thirty-ninth to an organization whose later history was considerably involved with that of our Massachusetts men.

The forts, which occupied almost every elevation of land, were conspicuous on every hand, and were a part of the system devised for the thorough protection of Washington. They numbered in all, including batteries, sixty-eight, and were for the most part named for distinguished officers slain in the conflict. All of them were not constructed at this time, but the record includes those that were built later as well. The total perimeter of the fortifications was thirteen miles, and the outer border thus guarded was nearly or quite equal to that of the original District of Columbia. Besides the forts there were twenty miles of rifle trenches, thirty-two miles of military roads and ninety-three unarmed batteries for field guns, with four hundred and one emplacements. In the total armament of these earthworks there were nearly a thousand cannon and mortars. Notwithstanding this formidable array, Early and his men came near getting through and into the city in July, 1864.

ON THE MARCH.

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 Sept. 15, '62 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.

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 Sept. 17, '62 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. 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.

It is in place to state that the affair was the termination of one of the most picturesque incidents of the entire war.

Oct. 9, '62 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.

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.

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 Oct. 21, '62 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.

Lucky was the man on picket when the last day of October rolled round, for on this date there were inspections and waitings in line, armed cap-a-pie, sometimes at a "shoulder arms," drills, reviews and a muster for pay. Everything seemingly that could be rung into a day's work was had. Perhaps the fact that the muster for pay covered two months of service was as agreeable an exercise as the day afforded. It was during these days that at least one company, possibly more, undertook to repeat the game so nicely played by Birney's veterans when they camped near the Thirty-ninth at the time of Stuart's crossing the Potomac; in other words, representatives of the companies, under supposed proper orders and directed by sergeants, went out some distance from camp and secured a good supply of well dried fence rails for the use of the company cooks in the preparation of food. The matter was thought quite proper, until the men were ordered into line and compelled to pick up what rails had not already been chopped into firewood and to carry them back to the place where they were obtained, though in depositing them the soldiers surely raised a sign of offense before the doors of the parties making complaint. Somehow the men could not be made to appreciate the tender manner in which some in authority thought the residents should be treated.

While each day brought its regular round of duty, there was little of novelty in successive days, the soldiers gradually hardening into the restraints and exactions of camp life. The 7th of November brought the first snow fall of the season, and though only about two inches of the fleecy reminder of northern regions fell, it was enough to impart a robe of whiteness to Mother Earth and boys-in-blue had the pleasure of snow-balling while it lasted, which was scarcely more than twenty-four hours. The 9th was Sunday and it brought the regular inspections, though the rain Nov. 11, '62 and cold prevented religious service and dress parade. The cold was severe enough to freeze liquids left by the occupants in their tents while out on duty. Monday, the 10th, marked a brigade inspection by General Grover, which the men inspected voted much easier than those made by their Colonel. This was the last appearance of General Grover in the brigade since on the 11th he was ordered to report to General N. P. Banks, who was organizing reinforcements for the Department of the Gulf. A native of Maine and a graduate of West Point, 1850, he had won honors at Williamsburg, Fair Oaks and at the Second Bull Run. As commander of a division in the Nineteenth Army Corps he will win still further laurels both in the extreme South and in the Valley of the Shenandoah. His independent brigade had grown to respect him highly.

OFFUTT'S CROSS ROADS

The departure of General Grover was followed by the assignment of Colonel Davis to the command of the brigade and the elevation of Lieut. Colonel Peirson to that of the regiment. In close connection with the foregoing, a change of location was ordered by General Heintzelman and, on the 13th, another move towards Washington was effected. Turning out long before daylight, an early breakfast was eaten and the line of march was begun before sunrise, the terminal being Offutt's Cross Roads, some twelve or more miles from Washington, the crossed roads being that from Rockville to Great Falls, and the turnpike which paralleled the river and canal, terminating at Tennallytown. There was a deal of grubbing out of stumps and other obstacles necessary in providing for a parade ground, though the site was considered better than the one just left, even if there was no adequate supply of water near. All the other regiments in the brigade were camped close by, viz.: the Tenth Vermont, the Fourteenth New Hampshire, and the Twenty-third Maine. In honor of the retiring brigade commander, the new stopping place was named Camp Grover.

In diaries of the period two quite diverse entries are found for the 15th, one stating that Colonel Davis, acting brigade commander, was thrown from his horse, though fortunately he was not seriously hurt; the other that the band of the Fourteenth New Hampshire played "Home Sweet Home" so beautifully that it made a wave of homesickness sweep over and through the brigade. A company from each regiment in the brigade was sent out by Colonel Davis to look after some of Captain White's guerrillas. A distressing accident was that of the 17th when James W. Finn of Company I, only eighteen years old, a farmer boy of Natick, fell from the containing wall of the canal-lock into the water and was drowned. During these days, the men were learning how to make their tents warmer through a system of stockading, and there was need enough of it, since cold weather had begun. Of all the regiments, there is a large representation in the hospitals, though the Thirty-ninth is better off in this respect than the others. However the best is bad enough, for on the 21st Charles H. Morrison of the Natick company passed on, followed on the 22d by Sumner P. Rollins of Somerville, a young man of eighteen years. Again on the 23rd, two more men of "I" crossed over, George L. Fogg and Francis E. Mann, and on the 25th, died Francis E. Newhall, also of Natick. Hugh Connoly of the Woburn company died November 25th. In the five weeks' stay at this point, the Tenth Vermont lost twenty-five men, their funeral marches through the camp being of almost daily occurrence.

Two and a half miles from the canal, at or near Great Falls, where begins the aqueduct which carries Washington's water supply, a considerable portion of these soldiers' duty was the guarding of the Government buildings there, including a bakery; near by was a large freestone quarry whose product was utilized in the building of the reservoir and the aqueduct itself. Considering the rain, which was Nov. 27, '62 very prevalent, and the mud which deepened on little provocation, the distance seemed to grow as the days advanced. On the 24th two companies were sent off in a hurry to intercept some of Stuart's cavalry said to be in the vicinity of Edward's Ferry; nothing came of the effort more important than the capture of two negroes. There was little going on that did not involve the colored man more or less. Even Mr. Offutt, for whom the cross roads are named, had been in the Old Capitol Prison because of his inability to render up one of his slaves when called for by General Jas. S. Wadsworth, when the latter was military governor of the District of Columbia.

November 27th was Thanksgiving Day at home, possibly the most generally observed day in New England. For several preceding days there had been a steady stream of packages from the homeland, indicative of the appreciation in which every soldier was held somewhere. Of course these boxes and bundles contained articles of comfort both for internal and external use. The approach of the day on which the Governor and State Secretary unite in "God Save the Commonwealth" brought out many expressions of wonder among the soldiers as to how the day would or could pass without something unusual in the way of food. The care and foresight of the home-army supplied the answer to the query, whether expressed or not, and though there was no general table around which the hundreds gathered, in some way it was possible for the greater portion of the men to feel that the day had its special significance even if they were far from home. Company K, which hailed from Woburn, was especially well served, and the display of boxes and other receptacles in the company street excited no little admiration, not to say envy, in the minds of some not so well provided for. It is stated that even fluids, particularly interdicted, were smuggled through some of the packages, notwithstanding the thorough search of the captain, and specimens of Northern distillations were submitted to that officer's approval. From that date, "canned tomatoes" acquired a new distinction. There was a release from the greater part of camp duties and the time thus secured was devoted to baseball, football and the other diversions so easily devised by the American youth.

A feature of the Thanksgiving spread, possibly not wholly understood at the time, came out subsequently when the "boys" learned how much work their pleasure had cost others. C. F. Whitney of Company I was serving as wagoner, and the night before the 27th, soon after "Taps," he was aroused by the wagon-master with the statement that there was no hardbread for the men, that the morrow brought Thanksgiving; he ordered Whitney to proceed to the Canal Locks, about three miles away, and with the commissary sergeant get a load of 'tack. Having worked hard all day, Whitney naturally demurred, but he had to comply, so he harnessed his six mules, took in Sergeant Hilton and started on his night ride. It was after 10 o'clock, the sergeant went to sleep at once on a bed of bags in the bottom of the wagon, but no such comfort attended the driver who, in his saddle on the wheel-mule, had to look after things. About halfway to his destination, he had to pass through a stretch of always muddy road, now actually overflowing with water, so deep in places that he had to take his feet from the stirrups to keep them dry. Night work of late had fallen to Whitney's lot, hence he was sleepy to the point of actually dozing off while in the saddle, this of course, after getting through the morass, and from this semi-sleeping state he was suddenly roused with the cry of "halt," uttered seemingly by a dozen voices. With as many bayonets pointed at his breast, his first thought was of "Johnnies," but he put on a bold front and shouted, "Let the mules alone, I can handle them myself." He would not tell them where he was going neither would he give the countersign, because he had none, nor had there been any picket-line along the way before. All this time the sergeant had slept on in his cosy bed, but he was roused Nov.-Dec., '62 and proved equally ignorant of the password. It seemed that the Tenth Vermont, camped near, had just established a picket-post at the place, and the men were acting according to instructions; much to the disgust of the two men of the Thirty-ninth they were compelled to turn about and return to their camp; nor did their troubles end there for, having cared for his animals and being on the point of turning in himself, the quartermaster again informed the driver and the sergeant that they would have to go back for that load of 'tack. So back they went, mules, mud and all, and with the countersign, getting by the Green Mountain boys, they reached the canal boat which they found having a great pile of Thanksgiving boxes from the North; wisely choosing these instead of the hardbread, they took the offerings to camp, reaching the same just after reveillé, and had no trouble in unloading; and this is how the regiment got its spread for Thanksgiving.

The remainder of November and the beginning of December had no special variants from the recent routine of drill, police and picket duty, though the scribe of Company K makes mention of the formation of a "construction corps" from a portion of that company, the object being the erection and equipping of a structure which should be used as a bath-house and a barber-shop. The labor essential to the cutting down of the necessary timber, the transportation to camp and its preparation there for use, absorbed the time and attention of a large number of men, who welcomed a relief from the constant round of drill with its endless repetition of facings, pacings and flank-movements, though the work performed was by no means light. At the same time increased labor fell on those who were obliged to perform the picket, sentinel, guard and other duties which were incessant. In the night of the 14th, a party of rebel raiders surprised in Poolesville a detachment of Scott's Nine Hundred, a New York Cavalry regiment, resulting in the capture of a number of the Union soldiers, with the death of one and the wounding of others. The place being so near the earlier camps of the Thirty-ninth, on or near the Potomac, the men were not surprised at increased vigilance in the placing of pickets all along the interval between the Cross Roads and the Leesburg pike. An observer in Company B says for this day, "Buried one of our men by the name of Hiedenway (David), the first one in our company."

During these days, news from the terrible battle of Fredericksburg began to filter into the camp, at first very favorable for the Union side and then the awful truth came in all of its horrors. Our men of the Thirty-ninth had brothers and friends by the hundreds in the Bay State regiments that suffered there, the news, by no means, making easier the duties of the guardsmen along the Potomac. The weather was cold and any proposition to move from the well established camp was exceedingly unpopular, but just such intimation came in the evening of the 20th, when orders were received to be ready to march. The boy who wrote in his diary "We have just got nicely settled for winter" learned, ere he was many months older, that wars are not conducted on the basis of being comfortable. The four regiments of the brigade were in line by nine o'clock in the morning of the 21st. Fortunately the weather was fine and the start was made, with music by the band, and six of the miles were marched, before the halt was made for the preparation of dinner. As Poolesville, the destination, is about twenty miles away from the Cross Roads (Offutt's) there yet remained a deal of walking to be done. With all of their camp belongings, over the frozen ground, the distance seemed greater than it really was.

POOLESVILLE

It was after dark, 6 o'clock on the evening, when the village was reached. Once a fairly prosperous Southern town, Poolesville revealed at this time a sorry spectacle of Dec. 21, '62 the ravages of war. Many of the men had straggled, unable to keep the pace of the hard march and only about one-fifth of the entire body arrived with the colors, but the delinquents limped loyally in, though late. Accommodations for the night had to be found wherever available, the village church holding many, the schoolhouse others; many found shelter in barns and not a few sought sleep on fence rails whose native hardness was softened a bit by straw obtained from a nearby strawstack, though its complete demolition was prevented by those soldiers who had managed to burrow into it. A sergeant of Company E who kept a small quantity of "commissary" for medicinal purposes had entrusted the precious flask to the keeping of John Locke, the most likely member to be faithful to his trust. Alas, when the sergeant called for the flask he got it empty, the contents had gone to help dry the thoroughly saturated comrades of Locke, who thought the boys would never have greater need. While in the morning of the 22d, some of the regiment were detailed for picket at Edward's Ferry, more remained in the village. Some of Scott's Nine Hundred, the regiment that had suffered from White's guerrillas about a week before, chose this day as one for wreaking vengeance on certain storekeepers, one of them Jesse Higgins by name, these natives being suspected of complicity with the enemy. The goods of the merchants were thrown out regardless and the lucky soldiers who chanced to be near helped themselves to whatever they liked best, though Companies B, H and K, being at the Ferry, missed their share of the wreckage. In Poolesville were thus halted the Thirty-ninth and the Fourteenth New Hampshire; the Tenth Vermont went further up the river and the Twenty-third Maine found its post lower down.

Duty along the Potomac was not unlike that performed some weeks before, but in the interval these men had learned a deal; not only had they been drilled but they had observed that all of the people resident in the vicinity were not wholly loyal, that many of them were ready to pass the desired word along to the enemy whenever opportunity offered, and for such reasons they determined to piece out their own rations with whatever was obtainable from the citizens. Nothing that was edible and transportable was safe from the predatory hands of the men and boys who, a very few months before, had been conspicuous in their own localities for their sterling honesty and straightforwardness. War and so-called necessity worked wonderful transformations in these well reared New Englanders. If all the stories that have been told in subsequent years may be believed, the marvel is that the natives had anything left to subsist upon. December 23rd brought the camp-stores and equipage by way of the canal, and a large force was set at work cutting away trees to make ready for the new camp. The site chosen for the camp was that on which the regiment had halted at the end of its first considerable march, that from Arlington in the preceding September. A large detail of men from the several companies, not on picket, worked hard through Wednesday the 27th, to properly pitch the tents and so collect the men into camp once more.

Of course the 25th of December came to Camp Davis, the name of the new winter quarters, just as it did to the rest of the world, but signs of Christmas were painfully lacking. One youth made this record, "To-day is Christmas; four of us went out of the lines and got a Christmas dinner and had it charged to Uncle Sam." Furnishing food to Union soldiers in those parts must have been like a lottery with the chances against getting anything back. Said another observer, "Christmas day! And we would not know it by the work going on in camp; dined on salt beef, more commonly known as 'salt-horse'." The later days of the month were devoted to properly equipping the camp which, for location, was the best yet occupied except for wood and water, the latter having to be brought fully half a mile, and the former was two miles off. For Dec. 28, '62 purposes of drill the parade ground was unexcelled and was extensive enough to admit of the maneuvers of an entire division at one time. Once more the Sibley tents are stockaded and the men believe that winter quarters are really realized. In the light of later years, the occupants of that camp claim that there was no better in the entire army. Though located on a level plain, it was so well drained that no amount of rain was able to render it disagreeable underfoot, a fact which no doubt contributed to the prevailing health of the men.

On Sunday, the 28th, as the men were falling in for inspection, their eyes were gladdened by the sight of the Tenth Massachusetts Battery, subsequently known to fame as "Sleepers," approaching Camp Davis. This event is thus cheerfully alluded to in John D. Billing's excellent history of the Battery, "'How are you, Boxford?' was the greeting from the Thirty-ninth Regiment, as soon as we were recognized, and it seemed like meeting old friends to fall in with those who had been encamped with us on the soil of Massachusetts." It was a strange stroke of fortune that should bring these Boxford neighbors again so near to each other, for the battery was assigned to the brigade and found a camping place close by. This day, too, brought to the ears of many, for the first time since leaving Massachusetts, the sound of a church bell, but it was not for these soldiers, who were still perfecting themselves in the school of the soldier; lessons so well learned that the Thirty-ninth stood second to none in discipline and soldierly appearance, and better still in general health, conditions largely due to the unceasing diligence of the Colonel, with whom drill seemed to be the chief end of man, especially those wearing uniforms. Long before daylight in the morning of the 30th, an alarm brought the men into line and four companies of the Thirty-ninth with a single section of Sleeper's Battery started off towards Conrad's Ferry where, as usual, a crossing of the rebels was reported. In light marching order, over the most difficult of roads, the party hastened to the scene, as supposed, of trouble. Though there were the reaching of an island in the river by means of a boat and a certain amount of fortifying, nothing came of the affair and at 1 p. m., tired and hungry the return trip was begun, ending at 4 o'clock, with every one out of conceit with military movements. On the last day in the month the Regiment was mustered for two months' pay, always a welcome exercise.

1863

The new year was ushered in on Thursday, and the prevailing sentiment among the men is indicated by this entry in his diary by one who evidently had entertained other opinions, "The boys are rather blue on the war subject; they begin to think they will not get home in the spring." Very few soldiers had any idea of the many long and weary months before them. The first men who went out, the Three Months' Men, thought it hardly possible that it would take all of their projected term to wipe out the Rebellion, nor were the rebels any less in error in their estimate of the duration of the conflict. In the middle of the month, the same writer once more reflects thus, "Our hopes of getting home in the spring are somewhat blighted," yet he and his comrades attended strictly to duty just the same. As the month progressed, the men had full opportunity to size up and adequately estimate the village near which they were encamped. Like everything that ever fell under the blighting hand of slavery, it exhibited a lack of paint and enterprise. Poor Richard long since remarked that he who by the plow would thrive must either hold himself or drive. In the South the slave-owner did neither; superintendence was entrusted to the overseer and what work was done, the slave did. How well this was accomplished, the surroundings showed. It has been said that there were only two loyal men in the village, Mr. Metzger, the postmaster; and Dr. Brace. Under such Jan. 2, '63 conditions there need be little wonder that the Yankee boys thought it no sin to spoil the Egyptians.

It was in the night of the 2nd that some vagrant members of Scott's Nine Hundred, that redoubtable New York cavalry body, which in December had cleaned out Higgins' store, came back to do it again. On guard was F. R. W. Hall of Company F whose brother, Eben A., was performing similar duty in a neighboring building. "Whiskey" was the battle cry of the New Yorkers and they sailed in to wreck things. At first, to oppose them, was only "A little red-headed guard" and they soon found that that Hall could neither be hired nor scared, though he was extremely happy to find soon at his side the brother, supposed to be in another place. Both boys were "Sons of Temperance" and they proved to the rummies that, once at least, prohibition prohibited, for the Halls managed to keep the mob out till Lieutenant Paul appeared with the reserve guard; even then the raiders did not subside, for they formed under their leader preparatory to a fight. Not having their cavalry outfit with them, they gave way to discretion, always the better part of valor; and all the more readily when Lieutenant Paul gave the order to charge, and they rapidly disappeared in the darkness. They had succeeded in smashing all of the windows, however, and almost unroofing Hall, whose gory scalp was proclaimed the first case of bloodshed for the Regiment. Though Higgins might have been a rebel, he doubtless was, the boys were set to protect and they always obeyed orders.

The 5th of January beheld the return of Colonel Davis to the Regiment, the command of the brigade devolving on Col. A. B. Jewett, of the Tenth Vermont, who after all these weeks had discovered that his commission antedated that of our Colonel just one day and there were people so uncharitable as to intimate that he had had the document redated just for this special purpose. Though there may have been those who did not altogether love Colonel Davis, because of his excessive devotion to drill, and the rigors of a soldier's life, all were as one in their admiration of his military bearing and his fitness for the head of the brigade, while his successor was notably lacking in all such characteristics. The Colonel made his first reappearance at dress parade and was greeted with a round of hearty cheers. In the evening he was honored by the Regiment's gathering round his quarters, accompanied by the band of the Fourteenth New Hampshire. The serenade prompted the officer to make a very happy speech, thanking everybody for progress in the past and urging a continuance in the same commendable direction. That the head of the Regiment was deeply interested in the welfare of his command was evident to every man.

The month was not entirely devoid of interest and the sham-battle between the battery and a portion of Scott's Nine Hundred (Eleventh New York Cavalry), on the 6th, roused the admiration of all onlookers to a high pitch; the rapid firing of the guns and the shouts of the charging cavalry gave the boys a notion of what the real thing must be, an impression rendered all the more vivid by the accidental wounding of several of the combatants, through premature discharges and too close proximity of certain ones. The endless round of all sorts of drill was rendered less irksome by the remembrance of those at home who were constantly sending choice bits of food for the delectation of their dear ones in the field and, to crown all, on the 17th, came seventeen barrels of apples for the Woburn company, right from the town that had first produced the famous Baldwin apple, and the generosity of the "K" boys was unstinted in distributing their pomological treasures among their less fortunate friends. Sunday, the 18th, some three hundred or more of the men repaired to the Presbyterian Church for religious service, expecting to hear the Chaplain, but in his stead, Private Batcheller, one of the older members of Company B, preached, a fact well illustrating the diversity of talent among American soldiers.

Jan. 20, '63

The "knapsack-drill" of January 20th has lodgement in the minds of many, the Colonel ordering that the 1 p. m. company drill be executed in heavy marching order. Considerable growling and grumbling were heard in the progress of the duty, and at its end Companies F and G gave three rousing cheers for "knapsack-drill," an act that roused the ire of the officer so that the companies were ordered on an hour's drill without cessation. At the end of the battalion-drill, the Regiment was formed in solid square and Colonel Davis very clearly explained to the men his reasons for the heavy task imposed, dwelling on his mortification at the episode of the morning. He said that whatever had been done as yet, it was only a prelude to what must follow and he desired the men to become inured to fatigue through such exercises as those of the earlier hour, concluding his words by the remark that if they would act like men, they would receive corresponding usage from him. The next three days were marked by a very severe rain storm; tents went down before it, and the sheds for the stalling of the wagon-train mules, some one hundred and thirty in number, fell in upon the animals. Covered with straw, and saturated with rain, the burden became too great and the calamity followed, luckily not to the fatal injury of any of the beasts. The 25th being Sunday, it is recorded that some of the men went to prayer meeting and that in the afternoon the Chaplain preached, though his auditors were chiefly from Company A, the one in which he had enlisted. Of the 29th and 30th, it is told that a snow storm that would have befitted Vermont or New Hampshire raged, much to the discomfort of those on guard, while others had not only to clear the company street but to free the parade ground for brigade inspection, the same coming on the afternoon of the 31st and being conducted by Col. Robert Wilson, of the Fourteenth New Hampshire, Colonel Davis acting Brigadier-General, in the absence of Colonel Jewett.

February proved to be a stormy month, severe snow storms reminding the men of the climate at home, but guard rounds had to be maintained, no matter what the weather might be. On Monday, the 2nd, a battalion of the Sixth Michigan Cavalry, Major Kenyon, appeared, and became a part of the local Union force. Armed with the very latest of breechloading carbines, they had every sign of ability to put up a good fight with whatever foe the future might develop. Very likely no event of the month gave the soldiers any more enjoyment than the coming of the paymaster on the 6th, with the money that the Regiment had been looking for so long and anxiously. "He took us all by surprise," says one writer, "coming on the grounds at 3 p. m., with his four-horse team." While a considerable part of the sum received went into the tills of local dealers and of the sutler, by far the larger part was sent home for the comfort of loved ones there, Company K sending thus fully $2300. The payment was only to the first of November, and it was the first coming of the dispenser of Uncle Sam's compensation since leaving Massachusetts. He was employed two days in passing out the money.

One of the episodes of this snowy Poolesville winter was the effort that a certain notable member of Company —— made to get out of the army. On account of a certain grievance, real or fancied, he simulated insanity so perfectly that there was a pretty general agreement that he had lost his head. Having committed to memory the entire contents of the American First Class Reader, he would station himself in the middle of the parade ground and in the stillness of the night hours declaim from the reader; even Colonel Davis began to think his man had lost his reason. Had the soldier stopped here or had his readiness to say a good thing, regardless of consequences, been under better control, his ruse probably would have succeeded. In the system of rigid camp neatness, a barrel for night refuse was provided for every company, to be carried off Feb., '63 each morning; to the increased astonishment of his comrades our declaimer now added fishing to his pranks and most soberly bobbed for bites in the filthy liquid. Finally Colonel Davis, after watching the performance from the tent of a company officer, approached the fisherman and asked what he was doing. "Fishing, sir," was the sober reply. "What do you expect to catch?" says the Colonel; "My discharge, sir." It was there that the man fell down, but he never could resist the temptation to make an apt reply. Plenty of hard work soon restored the orator and emulator of Izaak Walton to all of his normal senses and to becoming a model soldier.

During these days a strange rumor gained credence, viz., that the Regiment, with the Fortieth and Forty-first was to be assigned to the nine months' quota, the Government having found that the State had exceeded its three years' allotment by three regiments. If the origin of such insane propositions could be ascertained a great boon would be conferred upon humanity, since many a man found himself most grievously disappointed when the whole affair was recognized as an illusion. A great snow storm began on the 17th, and for twenty-four hours raged fiercely, changing finally into rain, which effectually removed what otherwise would have occasioned many a backache; the men counted the time well spent in checkers, cards and other camp diversions, in place of regular drill. It was a sorry time though for those on guard. The 20th brought pleasure to the quarters of Colonel Davis, for, on this day, his wife came to pay him a visit. Washington's birthday brought another old fashioned storm of wind and snow, testing fully the texture and endurance of the Sibley tents; fuel was scarce also, and, orders to the contrary notwithstanding, neighboring fence rails found their way into the fireplaces, thus giving a measure of comfort to the shivering occupants. The only official notice of the day was the firing of a salute by Sleeper's Battery, thirty-four guns, the report of which could hardly be heard above the roar of the storm.

As soon as the storm abated there was the usual heavy detail of men from the several companies for the purpose of clearing the streets and parade ground, the wisdom of such procedure had, by this time, become apparent to the men, since they could go about their several duties dry shod, while neighboring regiments plodded with wet feet through the slush and mud which followed the disappearance of the rapidly melting snow. Experience and observation are the best of teachers. A very pleasant instance of camp amenities was exhibited in this month, when First Sergeant Oscar Persons, of Company K, having been promoted to a second Lieutenancy and assigned to Company D, was presented by his late comrades with the equipments essential to his new position. The presentation was made by Lieutenant Wyman, and the recipient very happily responded. The ever obliging band of the Fourteenth New Hampshire accompanied the men on their errand of love, and discoursed music fitting to the occasion. The month ended with the bi-monthly muster for pay, the same making the Government just four months in arrears.

March will not be much, if any, improvement on the preceding month. The demand for fuel to supply heat for cooking and also for rendering the tents comfortable makes it necessary for details to go further and further from camp, and it is very fortunate that so much of the country has been allowed to grow up to forests. All men have to take their portion of the chopping exercise and in the performance of all camp duties. Possibly there was some abatement in drill on account of the weather and consequent condition of the grounds, and if the wearied soldiers were allowed a little more time in quarters, they accounted it no real loss. Pertaining to the variable character of the March weather, and illustrative of certain most admirable racial characteristics, Abijah Thompson, of "K," tells the story of a certain Irishman among the Woburn boys, the very best natured lad in the company, who was on guard duty in the midst of one of the hardest downpours of that March 17, '63 torrential period. The weather, however, made no difference with Colonel Davis, for his regular rounds were made, rain or shine; when he neared Patrick the latter faced the officer, presented arms and said, "Good marnin, Kurnel! It's a foin mornin' this, if wan't for the rain." 'Tis said the Colonel laughed so hard he almost fell off his horse. Both February and March witnessed a steady coming into the lines of rebel soldiers, really deserters, whom it was necessary to escort down to the City of Washington. To serve on the squad which thus guarded the men-in-gray to the Capital was considered to be a privilege. Also in this month, the authorities pursuing their investigations determined that several so-called Union citizens of the vicinity were really sympathizers with the South, and for such reasons a Mr. Pleasants and Colonel Leonards were arrested and sent to the old Capital prison.

The 17th was "house cleaning" day and, the tents having been removed from the stockades and everything carried out, the spaces were carefully inspected by the surgeon, the lieut. colonel and Captain J. Henry Sleeper of the Battery; the report of the officers was very complimentary to the Regiment. Whatever the coincidence, the event had no connection with the British evacuation of Boston nor with St. Patrick's day. The two months were notable in the number of furloughs that officers and men obtained for trips back to Massachusetts, not long ones, but sufficient for a taste of home comforts and a sight of the dear ones there. The month ended with the severest storm of the season, the snow falling in great quantities, but at the period of the equinox, snow cannot be expected to remain a very great while and it departed more rapidly than it came. An observer on the spot wrote thus in his journal for the 31st, "Woke up and found the ground covered with snow; realization of the sunny South is very different from what I had fancied it."

April found the Thirty-ninth still in its Poolesville camp, that is, when its members were not out on picket and other duties, the same extending a long way up as well as down the Potomac. The weather was as variable as ever, a mixture of good, bad and indifferent, yet through it all the regiment maintained a fair condition of health. "Many jokes and sells, for it was All Fools' Day," was the entry in a certain diary for the first day of the month, and what nonsense a thousand men of military age could not devise on such an occasion, it would be difficult to imagine. The 2d was the regular New England Fast Day, and a holiday was proclaimed by the Colonel, for which he received the mental if not verbal thanks of all the "boys" who proceeded to enjoy the day to the limit. Probably as large a proportion of the regiment attended the religious services at 11 a. m., conducted by Chaplain French, as were present at similar exercises at home churches in distant Massachusetts. However this may have been, there was no failure in taking part in the races, sparring-matches and various games, or at least witnessing them. The baseball game was between the men of Sleeper's Battery and those selected from the Thirty-ninth with the honors remaining with the Infantry, though the cannoniers were supposed to be particularly skillful in the throwing of balls.

The 5th of April found the ground again covered with a heavy fall of snow, and though it departed quickly it left a deal of mud and discomfort generally. The roads and by-paths were not so well drained as the grounds of our Bay State regiment. Thanks to the careful annalist, we know that the new bakery was in working order on the 8th and that the first batch of bread was to be baked that night. Too bad that it had not come earlier or that any necessity for its coming at all existed when the entire camp was so near the army bakery of Washington. Once more rumors became current that moving day was near, and Saturday, the 11th, it was given out that seven days' rations would be drawn on Monday, the 13th, preparatory to departure. A target shoot marked this last Saturday in the Poolesville camp. Sunday was a beautiful spring day, Apr. 11, '63 though not as quiet as the day might be elsewhere, for the bustle of preparation was evident on all sides. The ever welcome band of the New Hampshire Regiment made the time pass all the more rapidly with its vibrant melody. There were just two days more in Camp Davis and then came the change.

A RAINY MARCH

The first orders were to the effect that the whole brigade was to move, but these were so far modified that only the Thirty-ninth was to go, though the New Hampshire Regiment followed later. Washington was known to be the destination, and provost duty was understood to be the occupation. The start was made in the midst of a driving rain, a fact, however, which did not prevent the Granite State friends and those of the Battery thronging about to wish their comrades a "God-speed." It was pretty generally understood that the Thirty-ninth was selected as the first to go because of the rasping relations, as to priority of commissions,[D] existing between the respective colonels of the two regiments.

The storm did not prevent the New Hampshire band from turning out to give us a hearty send-off and there was need of it, since the general sentiment, long before the halt for the night came, was "the hardest yet." "Now came an awful march through mud and water up to our knees; many straggled behind, while others found it easier going ahead of the Regiment." A stop for dinner was made in a wood by the roadside, and by patience and care fires were made for the preparation of coffee, and then we were off again till at a distance of fourteen miles from Camp Davis, about three miles from Rockville, a very moist camping place was found in some pine woods, and such rest as saturated garments would permit was sought beneath the protecting cover of shelter-tents though many, utterly miserable in their soaked condition, preferred to stand before great fires which they had coaxed into burning. Others, more thoughtful, but less careful as to orders, had taken the opportunity to seek cover in barns and other places of refuge along the way, some even getting good lodgings in dwelling houses, all confident that they could easily overtake the Regiment after a night's rest and drying. Appreciation of Maryland villages or hamlets was at the lowest ebb, one observer charactering Dawsonville as a place of one house, a blacksmith shop and a few other tumbledown buildings, while Darnstown was considered appropriately named without further comment.

The morning of the 16th came none too soon, and many of the boys who were getting great lessons in the "school of the soldier," started off before the regimental orders to march were given at 9 o'clock, the rain continuing to fall, though not with all the emphasis and continuity of yesterday. Those who had the money and started early enough obtained excellent breakfasts in Rockville, the county seat of Montgomery County, and by far the prettiest village these blue clad wanderers had seen since passing through New Jersey, an opinion coincided with by more than one regiment in subsequent months. Here began a new experience since, thence onward to the Capital, the road was macadamized which, however much dryer it might be for the feet, soon began to make them exceedingly sore, more trying even than the muddy roads thus far encountered. While thus advancing on Washington, the headquarter's wagon was met on its way to Poolesville and, on the order of Colonel Davis, the mail belonging to the Regiment was taken out and distributed to the men, a most cheerful episode in an otherwise very dreary day.

Apr. 16, '63 Whatever the speed of the men who marched ahead of the Regiment, they were all held up by the vigilant guards at the first post of the pickets who were stationed around the entire city. This was a few miles before reaching Tenallytown and, at the post, the advance stragglers awaited the coming of the main body. Showers had been intermittent throughout the day and, after a march of sixteen miles, the drenched sons of Massachusetts were pleased to reach the above named place, practically a Maryland village, though within the confines of the District of Columbia. In or near the village was a large edifice, used as a retreat for the priests and pupils of Georgetown College during the summer season, and here the bedraggled Regiment found refuge, reaching it through the great fortifications which surrounded the city, portions of which had been seen on the Virginia side of the Potomac, the nearest forts being Reno and Gaines. That straggling was common became apparent when an entire company found ample space in a single room, whose comforts were all the more comfortable as the men heard the rain which persisted through the most of the night.

"Somewhere the sun is shining" never had a more hearty greeting than when, after so many hours of pitiless pelting, the morning of the 17th dawned clear and bright. Naturally there were orders to dry and clean up, the house grates affording opportunity for one, and our own industry accomplishing the other. It was ten o'clock when the start was made, but alas for human expectations! In vain were all of our burnishings, for the mud, Georgetown-way, was simply bottomless, and long ere the latter city was reached, the Thirty-ninth looked even worse than it did when Tenallytown was attained, though in their anxiety to retain the morning's polish, in several cases dividing fences were broken down that men might march between the street-fence and the houses, thus getting out of some of the mud. The ineffective rage of some of the protesting housewives is still remembered. But an excess of mud and water could not efface the results of months of the hardest kind of discipline and when "company front, by the right into line" was heard, it was obeyed with a readiness and unanimity that would have delighted the great Frederick and, baggage-burdened, mud-bespattered and wearied with forty-eight hours of most trying marching, the Regiment acquitted itself most admirably through the streets and avenues of Washington. At last the men realized the value of their arduous labors on the drilling-grounds of Poolesville; they believed in their Colonel and his associate officers, and when they saw their lines as an arrow straight, every one, in spite of all obstacles, keeping perfect step, best of all they believed in themselves.

WASHINGTON.

The halting place was Martindale Barracks, named thus for General John H. Martindale who, a West Pointer from New York (1835), had won distinguished honors in the Peninsular campaign and, from the preceding November, had been Military Governor of Washington. The barracks, themselves, large and roomy, were located near the "circle," so called, where Washington and New Hampshire Avenues intercept Twenty-third Street, all being to the Northwest of the White House. The men had no difficulty in recognizing the equestrian statue of Washington, by Clark Mills, which, since February, 1860, had stood as the principal figure in the Circle. The buildings to be occupied by the Thirty-ninth were new, well ventilated and lighted, having all reasonable conveniences, two stories in height, the first for officer's quarters, cooking and dining rooms, while in the second story were the best of accommodations for the men. The quarters had been occupied hitherto by one regiment only, the One Hundred and sixty-ninth New York, which having reported in Washington, in October, '62, had been doing provost duty until a few days before when Apr., '63 it was ordered to proceed southward to assist General John J. Peck in the defense of Suffolk, Virginia. The hospital, large and well equipped, won the admiration of the men though, fortunately, there were few occupants during the regiment's stay in the city.

Such were the new appointments to which the Thirty-ninth was commended, something of a change from its former rural surroundings, and a new course of duties was about to be undertaken, though hardly had the brightening up of uniforms and equipments begun ere orders came to stay proceedings, for the regiment was to proceed at once to Fortress Monroe, possibly to have a part in the Suffolk campaign. Had this order not been countermanded and the organization had followed after the One Hundred and Sixty-ninth New York, and had participated in the latter's services, while the Thirty-ninth would have had enough to do, it would have entirely escaped the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, Weldon Railroad and other experiences which make up its thrilling war history. Once more settled in their new quarters, confident that provost work in the Capital is before them for an unknown period, the men proceed to burnish up their weapons, to wash, brush and brighten their uniforms and by the time for dress parade, at the close of this first day in Washington, the closest observer could not have detected any traces of the tribulations through which the soldiers had so recently passed.

It is a life of rigid routine to which the regiment is now committed; military conventionalities in the highest degree are to be the rule for nearly three months; no more "Go as you please" when on picket, nor the free and easy conditions of the Poolesville camp for, seemingly, the eyes of the public are on every man and he must be in the stiffest form of polished brasses, dustless apparel and shiny shoes. The discipline that was thought so severe before, now becomes doubly so. Reveillé sounds at 5.30 a. m. and thence onward till 8 o'clock, save for breakfast, the detailed men are preparing for inspection, which takes place at the office of the provost marshal, Captain Todd. When on duty, the utmost punctiliousness is demanded and, if the men of the Thirty-ninth do not approach perfection, it will not be the fault of the regulations nor of the officers who direct. To such an extent are the polishing and shining of the rifles carried that some of the men are actually afraid that they will wear the barrels out by such constant attrition. When fully settled into the system of provost and other forms of duty, much of the old time drill is suspended, but there is something to do every day, as much as if the men were laboring in a shop, at the desk or on a farm.

The chief exhibition occasions are those of dress parade when distinguished people are not unlikely to appear. At such times, President Lincoln is seen, and Senator Henry Watson, that Massachusetts man of the people, is not an unusual figure. Is Colonel Davis proud of his men? Rather, how his face lights up at the immediate and perfect response to his commands, and every movement of the long line of soldiers is an effectual refutation of the stilted idea that well informed men cannot make good soldiers. Indeed the entire war was proof convincing that thinking bayonets are the most reliable. Of the satisfying spectacle of dress parade, an observer of the time comments, "So perfect and strict were the drill and personal appearance that in our line, of from eight hundred to nine hundred men, not the slightest difference could be detected in any movement from one flank to the other, as if performed by one man, and, in that test of perfect drill, 'Order arms,' though on a brick sidewalk, not one musket was behind the other, all striking with one crash, which startled the spectators, resembling a perfect volley of musketry."

It was a great change from picketing the banks of the Potomac and doing guard duty about the Poolesville region, to patrolling the thoroughfares of Washington and guarding such points as the War Department, the White House, the offices of the paymaster and quartermaster general, General Heintzelman's Headquarters, the medical Apr., '63 purveyor, the post office, the headquarters for forage, corrals for horses and mules, contraband camps, courts-martial and other places of kindred character. The men who had all of these duties to look after grew to consider Washington a paradise for officers not on duty, but quite the reverse for the enlisted man. The former could come and go at his own sweet will while the latter, if he got a pass at all, was subjected to so many conditions that more than half of the pleasure was lost.

At the same time, in one way or another, the Regiment grew to know Washington pretty well; the most of the notable points were inspected and the young men from far away homes took pleasure in seeing the evidences of real home life on every hand; said one of them, "It seems good to be in civilization once more." The 21st of April brought the New Hampshire friends of Poolesville memory and those beholding bade the Fourteenth a hearty welcome; the regiment was assigned to quarters on New York Avenue, its principal duty being the care of the Central guard house; a fact that resulted most happily when Lieut. Carroll D. Wright, subsequently colonel, was in charge, for certain inconsiderate members of Scott's Nine Hundred, having run in some of the Thirty-ninth's men, without sufficient reason, that very efficient officer released the prisoners at once, the incident being the only one in which our Massachusetts men were even temporarily under arrest in Washington. The two regiments partook of the neighborliness, so long characteristic of the states whence they had come.

Many a soldier boy made mention of the fact that on the 22nd Uncle Sam's paymaster happened around and left four months' compensation, squaring accounts to the first of March, and with "plenty of money in our pockets" even provost guards could be gay and happy. An indication of the steadiness of at least some of the men is found when a diarist writes of the city division of the Sons of Temperance and the cordial reception accorded him and the lieutenant who accompanied him; later the same writer states that a large number of soldiers were present; not all soldiers were or are dissolute. In these days the objects of interest were pretty thoroughly inspected and many a lad thought his blue coat quite in place in the President's blue room; and few items near escaped them. They even noted the cow that furnished the milk for the President's family, and some admired the equestrian Jackson, nearly opposite the White House; they threaded the mazes of the Smithsonian Institute, lingering longest over Catlin's wonderful collection of Indian faces, and one recites his pleasure at meeting Frank Brownell, the slayer of Jackson, the Mansion House murderer of Colonel Ellsworth of the New York Fire Zouaves. On the 28th the shoulder-scales that became a part of the display-uniform thereafter were dealt out, a fact that secured for the Thirty-ninth the reputation from certain ignorant fellows of being a regiment of major generals. The month ended with a general observance of the National Fast Day appointed by the President in compliance with a request of the National Senate that he set apart a day for national prayer and humiliation.

May found everybody intent on the struggle which Union and Confederate soldiers were waging on the banks of the Rappahannock. Hooker, who had been preparing since the last of January, had begun the campaign which Union-loving people were wishing would atone for the disaster of December at Fredericksburg. Again the latter name became familiar to the national ear, and these Massachusetts men in Washington believed that their fellow native of the Bay State would atone for some of the earlier misfortunes. Incidentally much extra work came to the regiment in the care of rebel prisoners, whom the Federals captured in the later days of April and the earlier ones of May. Also, it was the task of the Thirty-ninth to escort many of the captives to more or less remote points for permanent retention. Another duty was that of returning to the army at the front large relays of deserters, many of whom had returned under the general amnesty proclaimed for them, May, '63 and in visiting Fredericksburg for this purpose, the escort had a chance to see what real war meant. While following the forces in the field up to and through Chancellorsville, there was no lessening of local occupation and all articles of wearing apparel had to be kept just as bright as ever.

On the 10th much attention was attracted by the funeral procession of General A. W. Whipple, one of the victims of Chancellorsville, having been shot on the 4th, though he survived till the 7th. A native of Greenwich, Massachusetts, he was graduated at West Point, 1841, and his fellow Massachusetts soldiers felt almost a personal interest in the tokens of respect as the procession passed, including, among many other distinguished public officers, President Lincoln; the pall-bearers were eight first sergeants from the Thirty-ninth Regiment. For many years, thereafter, one of the great forts on the Virginia side of the Potomac was to bear his name. Those of the Regiment, not on other duty on the 11th and 12th, had the benefit of one of the periodical scares liable to any locality near the seat of war. Just before dress parade on the earlier date, at a quarter of six, orders came to have the Regiment ready to march to the Chain Bridge, the most northerly of the three great connections between the District and Virginia. After supper, with rubber blankets and overcoats properly slung, the men were in line, prepared for the order to advance to repel any possible rebel raid. The bridge is about five miles from the barracks and the troops reached that point soon after 10 p. m. No sign of any enemy appearing, they stacked arms by the roadside and proceeded to get what rest they could from the materials in their possession, every one taking the trip as a mild kind of lark. At an early hour of the 12th the return march was made by the men, tired and dusty, though they were quite prepared for the eight o'clock breakfast which the cooks had in readiness.

It was not all work in Washington; there were pranks by the score, and now and then one was written down in the book of someone's recollection,—witness the following: "a corporal of Company A with a guard was detailed to look after certain condemned goods some two miles out; with stripes and chevrons he was as slick and dapper a youth as ever wore a uniform. Without a cent in his pocket, and his entire party of twelve men equally lacking, he took them all to the theatre to see Maggie Mitchell play 'Little Barefoot'; he had said to the men, 'Be ready at seven o'clock, sharp, with shoes blacked and with brass scales on shoulders, the U. S. on the belts, well polished.' They obeyed and were marched off the grounds and along Pennsylvania Ave., the Corporal saluting any patrol they chanced to meet, right up to the theatre, itself; past the ticket-office, and when tickets for the company were demanded, the natty corporal threatened to arrest any one venturing to halt or impede his men, so in they went to the very best seats in the building, two dollar ones, and there he seated his squad. Never was play better enjoyed and when, at 9 o'clock or later, a lieutenant of cavalry looked the house over in search of parties without proper credentials, the corporal rose and, like a veritable Crichton, saluted; how could any officer disturb such serenity and immaculateness? He asked no questions; not a boy in the party understood the circumstances under which they were having the time of their lives, and the return was quite as successful as the going; the whole affair, a triumph of unqualified bluff and cheek."

Very likely many good veterans never knew that the Northern soldiers in Washington maintained an active Division of the Sons of Temperance, having their meetings in Odd Fellows Hall, corner of Nineteenth Street and Pennsylvania Avenue, and that, on public occasions, no branch of the order turned out more men. Several officers and men of the Thirty-ninth were deeply interested in the society, and one of them records with some evident satisfaction the fact that he had closed a rum hole and arrested the keeper, making one less source of temptation. On the May 24, '63 24th the boys from New England, with eyes alert for anything savoring of home, discover the passing of the Eleventh Massachusetts Battery, the Commonwealth's only Nine Months' Artillery organization, on its way homeward. Naturally the exchange of greetings was most hearty. On meeting Major S. E. Chamberlain of the First Massachusetts Cavalry, only recently severely wounded, yet out and ready to return, an admirer writes, "If the service were made up of officers like him, more would be done towards putting down the Rebellion."

Pay-day came on the 28th, and the promptness of the Government won no end of praise from the always impecunious soldiers, a feeling that they were disposed at a later time to considerably moderate.

The crowning event of the end of the month was the joint drill of the Regiment along with the Fourteenth New Hampshire some three miles away, in the rear of Mt. Pleasant Hospital on Fourteenth Street. It was hot and dusty, there having been no rain for three weeks, but the men were put through their evolutions by Brig. General Martindale, in a manner that evidently met his approval, whatever those exercised may have thought of it. White gloves and shiny scales suffered from the heat and dust laden air, but the men bore ample testimony to the quality of the drill on the old Poolesville grounds. However, the principal honors came when the return was made, for though the route step was allowed until the heart of the city was reached, then came the display moment and, in column of companies, the Regiment wheeled into Pennsylvania Avenue with the precision of a machine, winning the applause of the crowd of officers who were occupying the piazzas of Willard's Hotel; and without music, but with the regular tramp, tramp, that drill alone can impart, the men marched to their quarters with an added notch in their appreciation of what the Thirty-ninth could do.

In the way of dust and heat, June was to be a trying month for the men who had to keep themselves in the very primmest form possible, since to be neat and speckless was deemed the highest attainment of a soldier in town. In those days there was voting by the citizens on local matters and the drift of the ballots cast on the first day of the month gave indications of a large secession spirit in the city. On the second day, the Thirty-fourth Massachusetts appeared in Washington for the performance of duties, similar to those already falling to the lot of the Thirty-ninth. Though from Worcester County and Berkshire there was the common bond of statehood, and the Thirty-fourth also prided itself no little on its discipline and well drilled ranks. One of the members of the Thirty-ninth comments on the hardness of appearance of some of the prisoners whom he had to watch over and remarks that, at the window by his beat is a girl, about eighteen years old, who is a rebel spy, and that for five months she was a corporal in the Union ranks. Of this same person, Colonel Lincoln in his story of the Thirty-fourth relates that, to curb her and keep her within bounds, one of his officers was obliged to handcuff her.

So far as the amenities of Washington life for the regiment were concerned, nothing contributed more than the evenings spent in connection with the Sons of Temperance organization, of which something might be said in addition to former items. Formed in the Poolesville camp during the preceding winter, it had been chartered by the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts and was known as Army Lodge, Number 39, and after reaching the Capital, its membership increased to about two hundred. No better indication of the moral quality of the regiment could be found. Similar organizations among the residents of the city were especially hospitable, and invitations to all sorts of entertainment were of frequent occurrence. A festival on the 12th, where not only the delicacies of the season were served, but where literary and elocutionary ability were displayed, was long memorable in regimental circles. Also long remembered was Monday, the 15th, when large details June 15, '63 assisted in bearing to the several hospitals the grievously wounded from Chancellorsville, many of whom had been lying on the field for almost two weeks with scant attention, some having suffered the amputation of limbs at the hands of Confederate surgeons. Carried upon stretchers as gently as possible, some of them fully two miles, through the intense heat, some died on the way, many more soon after arriving. While people along the route did all that they could do to alleviate their suffering, the condition of these unfortunate men was a startling lesson to all of the awful possibilities of war.

It would be very strange if the guarding of the White House grounds did not occasion some meetings with the President. Of William S. Sumner, Company H, a second cousin of Senator Charles Sumner, the following is related: He had been stationed at a path, leading across a recently seeded lawn, the path having formed a short cut to one of the departments. Several officers had been turned back, when Sumner saw the president approaching to take the cut-off himself. He was promptly halted when the President exclaimed, "What's up, Sentry?" To this, the sentinel replied, "The grass is up, Mr. Lincoln." Looking down at his feet, the president said, "Some of it would be down, if I crossed over the lawn. I gave the order to place a sentinel here and I am just ready to be an offender." He commended the soldier for obeying his orders so strictly, even to halting the President, and Sumner was also commended by his own officers. Later when a comrade of his company had obtained a sick furlough and could not secure transportation, Sumner went with him to the White House, to present the case to Mr. Lincoln, who, remembering the incident of the hold-up at the lawn, readily wrote a line to the quartermaster which speedily brought the desired means of going home.

The campaign which was to reach its culmination at Gettysburg was well under way. Lee was headed northward and Union Governors were speeding troops towards the South to assist in driving him back. Naturally, expectation was at fever heat and every rumor simply added to the excitement. Some of the men who visited Baltimore to escort thither certain prisoners found the city with barricades in the streets and negroes working on fortifications, all under the apprehension of the coming of the rebel army. Friday, the 26th, under the tidings that the enemy was near Fort Massachusetts, north of Georgetown, the regiment was ordered to be in readiness to move at a moment's notice. Ammunition was given out and, in light marching order, the men were excitedly expectant when the order came to turn in and "snooze." As the sequel showed, had the Thirty-ninth and other regiments marched out beyond Tenallytown, a great wagon-train might have been saved, but those in command had not the power of reading the future.

How near the men came to meeting Stuart's Cavalry appeared a little later. Rumors were afloat as to some sort of disaster on the Maryland side of the Potomac and not so very far away from the District. The result was that late at night, orders were received to start at once for the scene of depredation and after a rapid march of several miles beyond the Chain Bridge, line of battle was formed at about two o'clock in the morning of the 29th. If all concerned could have known that the terrible Stuart and his men were many miles away at the time, with no thought whatever of molesting Washington or its defenders, very likely the impromptu bivouac or "In place, rest" might have been more comfortable than it really was. The event, in which any act on the part of the regiment was altogether lacking, was one more of those audacious deeds for which the Confederate Kleber was famous. Crossing the Potomac at Rowser's Ford somewhat south of Poolesville, under the most difficult circumstances, early in the morning of the 28th, he rode east to Rockville, whence a detachment, a very small one, dashing towards the District, encountered a wagon-train of one hundred and twenty-five vehicles, June 28, '63 heavily loaded, on their way to supply the Union Army, then marching towards the north. Though Stuart was able to retain the train and to take it with him into Pennsylvania, the delays occasioned by it rendered him and his men much less efficient in the great encounter at Gettysburg than they might have been otherwise.

The resignation of General Hooker from the command of the Army of the Potomac had produced many an expression of regret among the rank and file throughout the army, but especially were regrets expressed among the men reared in Massachusetts, the boyhood's home of "Fighting Joe." With the steady progress of the rival armies northward, it was apparent that a great battle was impending, and that all available troops would be called into the fray, though the demand did not come quite as early as expected. While on the banks of the Mississippi, Vicksburg, and around the quiet Pennsylvanian city, Gettysburg, were acquiring new significance in the world's history, the capital city, Washington, was preparing for the celebration of the 4th of July, just as if that were the only matter of importance. To begin with, all guards and patrols were reduced one half in numbers, thus leaving a larger force to participate in the parade. The military escort consisted of the Second District of Columbia Volunteers, the Fourteenth New Hampshire, the Thirty-fourth and Thirty-ninth Massachusetts Regiments. The civic organizations of the city looked and marched their best; the Marine Band discoursed the kind of music for which it was famous. Added interest might have been given to the day, had news from the two great battles, just fought and won, arrived in time. They would have given the celebration the greatest cause for enthusiasm ever had by an Independence Day, not accepting the first one of all. One prosaic participant comments only this, "We marched from seven-thirty to one o'clock; the sun terribly hot." So far as the military features were concerned, the day ended at the Provost marshal's office, where all were reviewed by Generals Heintzelman and Martindale. On reaching their quarters, the soldiers were regaled with as good a dinner as their cooks were able to provide. Another loyal Bay Stater entered on his book these characteristic words, "It was very well, but nothing when compared with Boston celebrations."

Sunday, the 5th, brought to the city general Daniel E. Sickles, minus the leg which he lost on the second day of Gettysburg, out by the peach orchard. A detachment of the Thirty-ninth met the distinguished officer and escorted him to his home. Official news of the surrender of Vicksburg to General Grant was received on the 7th and loyal Washington went wild with marching columns serenading prominent officials and with the general illumination, the Martindale Barracks not accepted. President Lincoln, members of his Cabinet and Major General Halleck were called on and each one responded with an appropriate speech. On the 9th came the orders which, long expected, were not unwelcome, for, though the Washington tour of duty was free from long marches, the risk of battle and the privations of camp, there was ever the thought that the service was not strictly ideal for real soldiers, hence the willingness with which dress coats and other form of superfluous clothing were packed against their possible need in the following winter. Contents for the knapsacks were chosen with considerable more judgment than would have been used nine months before.

JOINING THE POTOMAC ARMY

It was about eight o'clock in the evening when the Regiment formed line for the last time on the parade ground and the men marched off for the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad station. The drums were beating and laughter and shouting were quite in contrast with the solemn demeanor of former passages through Washington, then intent on making and retaining a reputation for discipline and self control.

July 10, '63 At the station there was a considerable wait for the Thirty-fourth Massachusetts and two batteries which were to accompany us. Hence it was late of the ninth or, rather early in the morning of the 10th, before the start from the city was made. Seven hundred and fifty strong, a large shrinkage for the nine months of peaceful service, loaded upon freight cars, the Regiment was headed for Harper's Ferry. All sorts of items made the journey long and tedious; says one of the boys, "The locomotive came near running over a 'nigger'; the train broke in two; one of the cars ran off the track," and another observer comments on the heat and closeness of the night and cars. The ride during the day was varied with characteristic incidents of the halts where efforts were made to secure food from nearby houses; at Frederick Junction where a branch road runs up to the city, made famous by Barbara Frietchie and Whittier, other troops joined the train and the same sped on to its destination, not exactly the Ferry itself, but Sandy Hook, the Maryland village opposite.

Darkness had settled down when the train reached the point of unloading, and the debarkation was effected with every one wishing he could see the wonderful panorama that the place afforded, but before the scenery could be enjoyed there was the biggest climb before the men that they had ever undertaken. The road was only an apology for one, though its mud was deep and adhesive; following closely one's file leader was necessary, if a man would keep in the procession. Finally there came a real climb up a mountain's side with every man for himself, until there was a blessed emergence on a plateau where, mud encrusted, the men threw themselves upon the ground and slept the sleep of exhaustion. The sun of the 11th, was well up the sky, ere the wearied climbers awoke to admire the scene developed around them. It did not matter much at what time the waking came, since there were no rations and the company cooks had no facilities for cooking even were rations ready. It was not till a large detail had gone down to the railroad and brought hence the hardtack, coffee and pork, that eating could be resumed, each one becoming his own cook, though some of the soldiers declared that a twenty-four hours' fast, along with unusual exertion had made the repast the most appetising they had eaten in months.

Those thus inclined had a chance to view a landscape which had engaged the attention of Washington and Jefferson, and which in more recent times had been the observatory of John Brown, previous to the raid which, without doubt, had helped precipitate the great conflict. Down along the opposite banks of the Potomac were the blackened ruins of the great armory, where had been made so many guns, now in the hands of the enemy, and nearer the middle of the village was the fire-engine house which was to go down into history as the "John Brown Fort." At Harper's Ferry, the Shenandoah joins the Potomac, and, as a point of vantage, it had been held by both rebel and Federal. A year before, the place had been given up by Col. D. S. Miles to Stonewall Jackson, and is now in Confederate possession, though the hurried construction of a bridge across the Shenandoah indicates a disposition on the part of the men in gray to depart. The retreat of Lee from Gettysburg had involved the entire region in uncertainty, hence the ordering out of regiments from Washington, and the presence in the immediate locality of the Eighth, Forty-sixth and Fifty-first Massachusetts, nine months' regiments, which on their way home from North Carolina were shunted off into this section, along with the Thirty-ninth, forming a brigade under the command of General Henry S. Briggs, first colonel of the Tenth Infantry, also a Bay State organization.

While individuals might improve the opportunity to admire the locality and to secure whatever the vicinity afforded in the way of food, it was not a tour of observation that took these men to this elevated section, and about noon of Sunday, the 12th, came orders to move, but according July 12, '63 to traditional custom, the order was not carried out until six o'clock. The march of the preceding night had convinced many that they were too heavily laden, and there being near the camp an elderly gentleman of a most obliging nature, he consented to take charge of bundles which the men made up, and, carefully marked, left in his care, to be called for later. Of course many who relieved themselves of burdens never called for their possessions and the most of them thought the man himself would become tired of his charge; but when years afterwards, a Woburn veteran tried the experiment of writing for his package, it came back to him forthwith, a remarkable tribute to the honesty and system of the man. During the ensuing night very many, who had not thus anticipated the exactions of the march, lessened their burdens by throwing away what had become intolerable.

The roads, trod by new regiments, were always marked by just such evidence of the lessons of experience. The regiments thus starting were the Eighth, Forty-sixth, Fifty-first and Thirty-ninth Massachusetts, forming the Fourth Provisional Brigade of the Second Division, First Army Corps; the respective commanders being Generals John Newton of the corps, John C. Robinson of the division, and Henry S. Briggs of the brigade. The Thirty-fourth, which had accompanied the Thirty-ninth from Baltimore, remained and gave the parting good word as the Thirty-ninth departed, the two organizations not to meet again until the homeward march through Richmond in 1865.

AT THE FRONT

When a brigade advances, all portions thereof do not, cannot move at once, hence it was fully nine o'clock in the evening of the 12th, before all were fully under way. It is a forced march on which the soldiers are entering, and those who are keeping the run of events will merge the 12th and 13th together, there being no good stopping place between them. As one writer expresses it, "up hill and down, so dark that we can scarcely see, all night, right up to 5 o'clock in the morning, when we halt for rest and breakfast in a belt of woods, about two miles from Boonsboro."[E] The trials of that night were long matters of reference, blankets were thrown away, so heavy did they become under the severe strain to which all were subjected. When the halt came, many threw themselves upon the ground for sleep, rather than prepare their coffee, the prime source of strength to the campaigner, and some of those who did set about breakfast getting immediately fell asleep over the task, so completely worn out were the marchers by the exactions of the night.

Nor was the end yet, since all too soon for the tired soldiers the sound of "assembly" calls them into the ranks and "forward" is again the word. To crown their discomforts, rain begins to fall and the mud to deepen, as the ranks once more press forward through Boonsboro, and thence over ways trodden by the participants in the Antietam battle of the year before, the men obey orders and, being at the right of the brigade, they pretty effectually distance their friends in the other regiments and, finding themselves practically alone, they are obliged to halt and await the coming up of the remainder of the brigade; so thorough had been the disciplinary drills on the Poolesville parade, the men of the Thirty-ninth were equal to almost any exaction. The termination of the long march was Funkstown, an insignificant Maryland village, important only as the point near which was stationed a part of the Army of the Potomac, all awaiting the word to advance against July 13, '63 Lee, whose forces had been unable to recross the Potomac, on account of the heavy rains, which had greatly swollen the waters of that important stream.

Also the name had been heard a year before, when the Battle of Antietam had for the first time given Funkstown distinction, otherwise it might have slumbered a thousand years with no signs of awakening. To the wearied men of the Thirty-ninth who, in twenty hours or less, had traversed through rain and mud from twenty-five to thirty miles of wretched roads any sort of place was agreeable for a terminal, and they were glad to hear the command "Halt," and the subsequent direction to pitch tents was equally grateful. Those that could turned in early, but those unlucky ones who had to stand guard faced their duty grimly, realizing that war was not altogether fun. A skirmish line actively engaged, out towards the lines of the enemy, gave to these inexperienced soldiers just the least foretaste of what hostile bullets meant. There was a general feeling that the morrow would bring the clash of arms, and that the days of preparation were over. Ten days after Gettysburg, the Confederates, at bay between the river and the Federals, must either fight, drown or surrender.

Lieut. Colonel Peirson who, when a member of the Twentieth Massachusetts had served on the staff of General Sedgwick, now commanding the Sixth Army Corps, naturally improved the opportunity to call upon his former leader. Our officer was received most kindly and the situation was freely discussed, the General saying that he had just returned from a conference of all the general officers, at which it was decided that it was then inexpedient to attack Lee, his force being about as large as our own and his position for defense being stronger than ours for attack. So depleted were the regiments by the great battle, so recently fought, the Thirty-ninth was as large as almost any brigade. Years later, on meeting General Meade in Boston, the decision of the conference was confirmed, the Potomac Army Commander telling Colonel Peirson that the risk involved was considered too great. Of course of this the rank and file, wondering when the orders to attack would be heard, knew nothing.

The dawn of Tuesday, the 14th, revealed an entirely different situation; the Confederates, afar from their case of supplies, impoverished as to ammunition by the demands of Gettysburg, hence in no condition to attack even if so disposed, had worked industriously all of Monday, the 13th, in constructing a pontoon bridge across the Potomac, at Falling Waters, over which they had withdrawn during the night. To the rank and file, the situation did not appeal as it did to those in command who saw in the escape of the enemy the possible results of the fierce engagement at Gettysburg vanish away. Men with guns, as they advanced, were not encountering the expected opposition and finally, when in the afternoon Williamsport was reached and still no sight of the foe, the dullest man in line realized that the fight for that day was off. One of the observers inscribes in his diary these reflections, "If we had attacked the rebels yesterday, we might have made great havoc among them, crossing the river, but, as it is, we probably will have to follow them into Virginia; pitched our tents, cooked some coffee and went to sleep." Another commentator remarks, "The Somerville (E) Company is detailed as guard at General Newton's headquarters."

History is now repeat to itself, since Lee with his army is moving up the Shenandoah Valley as he did after Antietam, while Meade and the Union army will follow the route of McClellan along the eastern side of the Blue Ridge, appearing at each one of the successive gaps through which the Confederates might essay a passage on their return to their former stamping grounds. With what might have had been, had Meade done this or that, we have no more to do than with the events which followed Antietam, and a like dilatoriness on the part of McClellan in moving immediately on the enemy's works. Our present July 14, '63 concern is with and for the Thirty-ninth Regiment which hears the reveillé at five o'clock in the morning of the 15th, with the injunction to be ready to march in twenty minutes, a command which resulted in a start at six o'clock. The day is hot and sultry, the pace rapid and again men rid themselves of everything possible to lighten their burdens as they hasten over the dusty Maryland roads. Funkstown is again sighted, though on the right, and the battle-line of the day before is hurriedly passed. The gory field of Antietam, where so many of the blue and the gray mingled their life-blood, is also recognized and a halt is called near Antietam Creek.

One of the early incidents of the day's march was the meeting of the Sixth Corps and the First, rendering it necessary for the two bodies to pass each other at nearly right angles. The writer also notes the peculiar coincidence that this passage of the Thirty-ninth was effected through the ranks of the Thirty-seventh, a Western Massachusetts regiment; just a chance to say "Good-morning and Good-bye," all in the same breath. It was on this day's march also that the news came of the fall of Port Hudson and the bloody combats before Charleston, South Carolina. Burnside's bridge, over the Antietam, is crossed in the opposite direction from that taken by that leader a year ago and the hurried way is pursued through Keedysville to Rohersville where the camp is pitched for the night. It has been a hard day, with a record of fully twenty-five sun-broiling miles passed over, and to crown the miseries of the march, rations are scarce, in most cases entirely lacking. The story is told that a goose was appropriated on the way, with the hope that soon opportunity might be found for cooking it, but the wearied men, successively, grew tired of carrying it and its body was left for some luckier party, nearer the rear of the line, to enjoy on reaching camp. The strain must be excessive which will cause a soldier to throw away an edible luxury.

As usual, the bugle summons the men from repose at an early hour on the 17th and not a little rejoicing follows the announcement that rations are to be drawn, so that the day's exactions will begin on full stomachs. At not quite so brisk a rate as that of yesterday, the route continues through Crampton's Gap, on to a hillside near Petersville, not far from Catoctin Creek, a name often heard in stories of the locality. Berlin, a village somewhat below Harper's Ferry on the Potomac, is the name of the nearest river point, and all are pleased at the chance to pitch their shelter tents, to rest, to clean up clothing and weapons, and to realize that the soldier is not always on the march. It was at this point that the chaplain and the men who had been left in Washington rejoined the regiment. The 17th of July introduces the variation of a heavy rain, yet this does not prevent our active men from visiting neighboring regiments whose depleted condition contrasts vividly with the full ranks of the newly arrived. Says one visitor, "Some of the old regiments do not number more than our one company." On this day, obedient to orders, the Fifty-first Regiment takes its departure for the North and its muster-out, its entire tour of duty from the first of the month having been over and above the time called for by its term of enlistment.

The assembling of a great army is ever a magnificent sight, and that presented by the several corps of the Potomac Army, awaiting the laying of pontoon bridges across the Potomac for the use of this great array of humanity, forms no exception, a glorious sight even though seen through showers of rain. It is the period also of wheat-harvest and, notwithstanding the moisture, something of an idea is obtained of how the staff-of-life looks in its earlier stages. There is a deal of talk among the soldiers as to how they ought to have fought and finished Lee, many of them believing that the end of the Rebellion might have been effected at or near Williamsport. By the 18th, the bridges being in readiness, early orders are given that July 17, '63 all must be ready to advance at four o'clock, and for a wonder the start is only half an hour behind the appointment. The Fifth Corps and the cavalry crossed last night. The Forty-sixth Massachusetts, one of the nine months' regiments, accompanying us all the way round from Maryland Heights, is but a few rods from the river, when orders are received to fall out and proceed immediately to Baltimore and so Northward; for some reason, the Eighth Massachusetts, in the same category, still continues in line. It was in these days that certain of the regiment, thinking themselves so far from the region of military precision they might essay a little abandon of style, attempted to wear the "bell-hats," worn by some regiments, in place of the visored, regulation caps required where style was effected, but the Colonel would have none of it and to trade back was the next thing necessary.

IN VIRGINIA

Quite nine months have passed since that hurried departure from Arlington for the Maryland side of old Potomac's shore and now, on the 18th of July, the sacred soil is again trodden by Massachusetts feet as the regiment takes its way through a section that fairly captivates the eyes of these men so far from home and, after a march of possibly thirteen miles, the lovely village of Waterford is reached at about two o'clock in the afternoon. Considering the unusual beauty of the village, its marked similarity to just such assemblages of dwellings in the North, the surprise of the visitors is not so great when they learn that the place has furnished two full companies of soldiers for the Union army. After a good night's rest, at 6 a. m. of Sunday, the 19th, the regiment passed through the village, keeping step to patriotic airs, while the people displayed Union flags and cheered the passing men in blue; the scene would hardly have been different, were they in one of their own Northern towns. Through a continuation of yesterday's scenic beauties, the march is made to the village of Hamilton fifteen miles away, also a beautiful place, and here the halt is made under trees so umbrageous that tents are unnecessary, all declaring it the very best camping place yet. The neighboring fields abound in seemingly endless quantities of blackberries of which the hungry soldiers proceed to eat their fill, not only satisfying hunger but proving an excellent specific for certain ailments incident to the season. Had the officers purposely directed the army this way, they could have done nothing more opportune for the health of the men. What Northern home is ignorant of the healing qualities of blackberry cordial? Better far than many responses to the surgeon's call.

The men thought the Sunday well spent and, after a twilight devoted to reminiscenes, wherein of course home abounded, couches on mother earth were sought, hoping that sleep might be undisturbed until morn. It was well that rest was taken early for it is only two o'clock of the 20th when morning sleep is broken by the bugle call; evidently a long march is in prospect, but from characteristic delays, it is fully five o'clock before faces are again set southward, the route being through a section badly scarred by the ravages of war. About twenty miles are passed over in reaching Middleburg, a place on the Alexandria and Winchester turnpike, of some local importance, whose inhabitants are largely if not entirely secesh, and we are told that many of them, being in Pickett's Division, had suffered greatly at Gettysburg. Indeed one lady, the mistress of a large and elegantly furnished mansion, apparently one of the F. F. V.'s, who very kindly responded to the requests of the Union soldiers, when thanked most respectfully for her consideration, replied that she only wished people on the other side might have done as much for her son who was killed at Gettysburg. On the way July 20, '63 hither, the regiment has the new experience of fording a stream, Goose Creek, from two to four feet deep and from 80 to 100 feet wide.

A heavy picket line is thrown out because of the proximity of guerrillas, who prowl around like jackals intent on mischief; and they already had captured several division staff officers who had ridden too far ahead, for the purpose of selecting proper camping grounds. The tour of picket duty was not without its compensation since an abundance of blackberries was revealed by the morning of the 21st which, with food foraged from the enemy's country, helped out the somewhat reduced rations of the haversack. In the preceding night Samuel W. Joyce, Company C, a Medford boy, had died, worn out by the exactions of the expedition, and a prayer by the chaplain is the sole service as his body is committed to the earth, since in active warfare scant time is found for burial ceremonies. The entire day is passed in this camp, thus affording a needed rest while time is found for observation, not alone of the neighboring fields, abounding in berries, but of the people among whom no men of military age are found and of the fact that Confederate money finds greater favor here than the currency of Uncle Sam, a peculiarity however that gradually disappears as the months advance.

It is two o'clock, p. m. when the command to pack up is heard, but it is nearly or quite sundown before the start is made, since the brigade is taking its turn on the left of the line; also the guarding of the wagon train is committed to the brigade and in this somewhat arduous duty the Thirty-ninth bears its part. Over roads, never conspicuous for smoothness, now worse than ever, the troops and the train pick their weary way till 3 a. m. of the 23rd, when White Plains is reached, a distance of not more than eight miles from Middleburg, but a wearying march nevertheless. It is pretty generally understood that both the rebel and the Union armies are racing for the Rappahannock, and the Federals have the inside track. The wagons are parked here, for mules must, if men do not, rest, and those guarding have the privilege of a bivouac for a short period, while the other troops have been resting a large part of the night. Repose is enjoyed for about four hours when, at seven o'clock in the morning, we are routed out and, two hours later proceed on our route to Warrenton, some thirteen miles away, getting there not far from five in the afternoon. Much to the astonishment of the wearied marchers, a dress parade is ordered, and the men go through the form, though they would much prefer to rest their tired bodies prone upon the ground.

Warrenton is one of the names which every one has heard, over and over, ever since the beginning of the war, and all conclude that it must have been a very interesting as well as beautiful place before hostilities had marred its loveliness; the county seat of Fauquier County it possesses all of the public buildings belonging to such a place and betrays evidence of thrift, enterprise and culture. Secesh to the core, the people prefer Southern currency, though they will also take that of the North. In camp on a hill to the rear of Warrenton, the 24th is spent, rations are drawn, letters written to the homeland, and a big notch made in the stick of soldierly experience. With true military routine a dress parade is had at seven o'clock, just for the sake of maintaining the regimental altogethery feeling. Early in the morning of the 25th march is resumed and continues through a dry, level country, destitute alike of shade and water, the sun all of the time giving indications of his heat rays; occasional halts do not negative the fact that it is a long and tiresome march, on account of which many a man would have been overcome by the heat had not all been thoroughly acclimated in the vigorous drills of the preceding months. Thirteen miles of desolation bring us to noon and Warrenton Junction and, best of all, to the sight of water. The stream, though small and already muddied by all sorts of animals in their efforts for drink, is none the less sought with ardor by the thirsty men, July 25, '63 who pronounce this the dryest day in all their army experience.

Here is found a depot of supplies, the communication by rail and steam with Washington being direct and regular so that commissary and quartermaster stores are replenished; near by is the whole Army of the Potomac, though there is every indication of going further on every hand and, while seemingly in direst confusion, no one appeared to get in another's way, convincing proof that some guiding power had all these different lines well in hand. What a chance to visit this and that friend in other regiments, an opportunity of which hundreds of men availed themselves, and many a meeting here was the last in this life. Making camp in a nearby grove, rest is sought, save as it is interrupted by rations-drawing, until there comes the order to fall-in once more, but by this time the men have learned that a certain amount of leeway is to be allowed in these marching orders, and they do not respond with all of their former alacrity. It is from this point that Major Tremlett, accompanied by men from several companies, goes North for the purpose of looking after recruits expected from conscripts and substitutes. The second installment of this day's march really began about 7 p. m. and continued possibly seven miles to Bealton Station, on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. Lack of water had made the morning's route hard to bear; nothing of the sort troubled that of the evening, since a pelting rain beat upon the faces of the marchers, filled the roads with mud and made the rivulets swelling torrents. With a single exception this was the severest storm ever encountered by the Thirty-ninth, that exception being the one when crossing the Occoquan on the return of Washington after the surrender. It is one o'clock in the morning of the 26th, that the regiment, though completely saturated with rain, files into an open field, and finds such repose as it can until the light of day.

FIRST ARMY CORPS.

It was here and on this day that the Eighth M. V. M., having accompanied the Thirty-ninth in all of its wanderings from Maryland Heights, took its leave of the Potomac army and, obedient to orders, embarked at Warrenton Junction for Washington, its nine months' tour of duty being long overpast, and a happy lot of soldiers they were, with the prospect of a speedy return to their homes. Of course there were the regular details for pickets, but the most of the regiment had a chance to clean up and to rest after the exactions of the preceding night. The departure of the Eighth caused the end of the Provisional Brigade, under the command of General Briggs, the latter returning to Washington, while the Thirty-ninth became a part of the First Brigade, Second Division, First Army Corps, the division and corps being the same as before; the other members of the brigade were the Thirteenth Massachusetts, Sixteenth Maine, Ninety-fourth and One Hundred and Fourth New York, and the One Hundred and Seventh Pennsylvania, the Commander being Colonel Peter Lyle of the Ninetieth Pennsylvania regiment. The dress parade at the close of this day was signalized by a sequel to the bell crowned hats, already referred to, since a number of the men in Woburn Company (K), wearing the obnoxious headgear and otherwise grotesquely arrayed, appeared on the parade ground, exciting the risibles of all beholders and securing for themselves a command to report at the colonel's headquarters, where even his equanimity was upset and, after a hearty laugh, he let the culprits off with a reprimand and some extra policing about his tent.

The sweet sleep to which the regiment commended itself at "Taps" was interrupted at 11 p. m. by the command to "pack-up" and "fall-in" and soon afterward the Thirty-ninth was marching southward, making the best of the way alongside the railroad, not always careful to keep the middle of the road, this being one of the lapses of July 26, '63 Colonel Davis, viz., that he was willing that the men should keep their feet dry if possible. He had even excited the ire of General Briggs by insisting that, when only keeping in line was the point at issue, his men should march dry-shod, thus possibly accounting for the extra marching ability of his men. Rappahannock Station, where the Orange and Alexandria Railroad crosses the river, was the point aimed at, and very early in the morning of the 27th it was reached, and the broken slumbers of the preceding night were resumed for a brief period. The remainder of the First Brigade was here along with several thousand cavalrymen. The remaining days of July were spent in the camp established near the banks of the Rappahannock, on an elevation overlooking the river. There was nothing to disturb the general quiet of the place, though Union soldiers picketed one side of the stream, a narrow one here, and rebels the other. The railroad bridge had been destroyed and the coming of a train load of pontoons, in the evening of Wednesday, the 29th, called for a large detail of men from each company to unload them, a rather heavy task, while showers, many of them very severe, made even tent life anything but comfortable. Somewhere, in these meanderings, a character of Company G won fame for himself in the aptness of his reply to Captain Trull. As he fell in for dress parade, the Captain noticed that the private's shoes were plastered with Virginia mud, and sent him to his quarters to make them more presentable. Presently he returned with the fronts of said shoes much improved, but the after portions were as before. When asked by the irate Captain why he had not blacked the heels as well as the front of his shoes, the witty fellow replied that a good soldier never looked behind.

Lest the men through idleness might grow rusty, the last day of July was marked by a drill, and later the orders were given that at two o'clock in the next morning, August 1st, the camp should be broken and all be ready to march soon after. While the day did not bring on an engagement there was much of interest in seeing the cavalry cross the river and in beholding the disappearance of the Confederate pickets and in hearing the sounds of more or less firing beyond the hills across the stream, in the direction of Culpeper Court House. Our crossing was effected about two o'clock in the afternoon, line of battle was formed and under a blazing sun we advanced until a piece of woods was reached where every man improved the least chance possible for escape from the intense heat. After a considerable halt and consequent rest, the line fell back fully a mile, halting on the brow of a hill where trees and underbrush were cut away to favor firing of both artillery and musketry, while the fallen timber would serve as an abatis. Until the 8th of August the Regiment remained here, digging intrenchments, doing picket duty, witnessing the almost constant activities of the Cavalry, which kept the enemy stirred up, and on the 3rd it seemed as though the Confederates were really coming our way, but it proved to be only a reconnoisance in force, and the Union forces were found on the watch. Colonel Lyle having leave of absence, Colonel Davis succeeded to the command of the brigade and Lieut. Colonel Peirson to that of the regiment. For diversion, the men had berry picking and foraging generally in front of, and bathing in the Rappahannock behind their lines, and on Wednesday, the 5th, all were surprised and delighted by the appearance of Major Bell, paymaster, who left many tokens of Uncle Sam's honesty in the hands of the men, a large portion of which was speedily sent northward for the benefit of kindred there. Thursday, the 6th, was a day of national thanksgiving for the victories that had attended the Union arms and at brigade headquarters there were religious services by the chaplains of the Sixteenth Maine, the Ninety-fourth and One Hundred and Fourth New York, and by General Briggs, temporarily in command of the division. The proclamation of the President, calling for this observance, was issued July 15th, the kind heartedness and devotion of Mr. Lincoln Aug. 6, '63. appearing in every sentence. While the entire document might be read with profit to-day, let the following extract suffice:—

But these victories have been accorded not without sacrifices of life, limb, health and liberty, incurred by brave, loyal and patriotic citizens. Domestic affliction in every part of the country follows in the train of these fearful bereavements. It is meet and right to recognize and confess the presence of the Almighty Father and the power of His hand equally in these triumphs and in these sorrows.

That the men might participate in the spirit of the day there was a suspension of drills, though a morning inspection reminded everyone that routine constitutes a large part of a soldier's life.

Dress parade on the 7th was omitted on account of one of the severe storms with which the season was rife, accompanied by thunder and lightning and wind to the extent of blowing down the brush protection which many of the men had set up around their tents; many of the tents went down also—as one of the unfortunates records it, "most of the boys got drowned out." Saturday, the 8th, brought a change, in that orders were received about 11 a. m. to prepare dinner early in order to be ready to march, though we did really remain till after five o'clock before starting, carrying with us tent-poles and everything movable that might contribute to the comfort of the new stopping place, which proved to be across the river and very near where we were before the advance beyond the Rappahannock. Apparently, the entire brigade came back with us. Though no one was conscious of the fact at the time, here the Thirty-ninth was fated to remain with the other parts of the Potomac Army for more than a month. Though we had marched with the army all the way down from Funkstown, we had not fought at Gettysburg, nor had we participated in that trying race with Lee's forces all the way from Falmouth to the foregoing sanguinary field. Regiments had become little better than skeleton organizations; mounts for cavalry and artillery were sadly wanting and a period for recuperation and replenishing was absolutely necessary.

"Reveillé at 4.30 a. m.; splendid morning and the distant bugles and drums over hill and vale proclaim that the army is awake," such was the entry in his diary of one of the Thirty-ninth whose day was given to guard duty, in an open field exposed to the fierce rays of an almost tropical sun, while many of his comrades devote much of their daylight to procuring and placing boughs around and over their tents to render less oppressive the August heat. One wonders whether it was piety or dislike of work which prompted the following item in another diary, "Other regiments have religious services; ours never does; had to keep at work all day"; that dress parade closed the day might be concluded without the saying. Owing to the nearness of other regiments, it is easy to compare their scanty numbers with the full ranks of the Thirty-ninth, while the Twelfth and Thirteenth turn out with scarcely a corporal's guard in numbers for several of the companies, the Thirty-ninth has five hundred men, this very day, on parade, though a shrinkage of one half is quite an item, especially when there has been no loss on the battlefield. The utility of constant drill, especially in these superheated days is not appreciated by the older regiments in the brigade, and means are usually found to sidetrack the orders of Colonel Davis, acting commander of the brigade, but the Thirty-ninth obeys them to the letter.

The round of guard and picket duty keeps everyone in active condition, particularly as there are drill and fatigue for any not otherwise employed. The picket line is across the Rappahannock, about two miles and a half towards Culpeper, not far from the early August camping ground. That there is every indication of a prolonged stay here is emphasized by the appearance of the sutler, on the 12th, who proceeds to establish his plant and to open out some luxuries, always appetizing to the average soldier, though Aug. 12, '63 forty-six cents a pound for cheese and one dollar a bottle for syrup and preserves make a man think twice before buying. The Medford men, Company C, are somewhat exultant over the fact that Captain Hutchins, on the 13th, is in command of the Regiment, since Lieut. Colonel Peirson is in command of the picket line and Major Tremlett is in Boston. During these days many drafted men arrive and are added to certain of the older regiments, though the permanent good derived from their coming is hardly commensurate with the trouble and expense incident to their presence. America never had much use for involuntary soldiering.

The 15th, Saturday, brought orders to be ready to march at a moment's notice but, as often happened, nothing came of it. The following day there was a movement of certain troops by train to Alexandria, for what purpose no one knew, though doubtless a part of the scheme to strengthen the Carolinas and the West which, eventually, will take a considerable number of men from Meade's Army. Everyone is learning the extremes of midday heat and midnight cold and many sigh for the material thrown away on the marches southward from Antietam. Those in authority are becoming alive to the fact that sleeping on the ground is conducive to summer ailments, and the consequent order goes forth that bunks shall be constructed and the tents correspondingly elevated. No one is permitted to get homesick on account of having nothing to do. Owing to the absence of Surgeon Page, the surgeon of the One Hundred and Seventh Pennsylvania has temporary charge of the sick in this regiment, and his diligence makes an exceedingly favorable impression. During this quiet period along the Rappahannock, the railroad bridge across the river is repaired or rebuilt, the pontoons are taken up and sent away and the men are realizing what regular mails and rations mean. The latter are so full and free that an excess of coffee especially forms an excellent medium of exchange with the rebel pickets.

On the 19th, more troops returned from the south side of the river, leaving scarcely more there than the Second Brigade of the Second Division; evidently some change of lines is in prospect. One man records his opinion that the construction of an oven for the baking of beans is a sure indication of a general move of the army, activity generally following any attempt at permanency. It is in these August days that the several companies are recalling the first anniversary of their muster-in and comparing notes between now and then. Though the Regiment has not been called to face the enemy on the field of battle, the time has by no means been wasted, since the drill and discipline that Colonel Davis and other officers have insisted on have made the organization ready for almost any test that may come in its way. The 28th of the month was marked by the return of Colonel Davis to the Regiment; Colonel Lyle having resumed his position at the head of the Brigade. As a consequence, all forms of drill received an immediate impetus. It was about this time (28th) that the Pennsylvania Reserves presented General Meade with a magnificent sword, the presentation taking place some three-fourths of a mile away, and Governor Curtin of the Keystone State, General Heintzelman and other distinguished men being present. Rumor says that the blade was originally intended for General John F. Reynolds, Commander of the First Corps, killed at Gettysburg.

It was in the last week of August that the knapsacks, left by orders at Funkstown, were received by their owners, but their contents, valuable or otherwise, had already been appropriated by others; much disappointment resulted, since many a soldier had reckoned on the material, supposed to be there, for relief in the cold nights along the Rappahannock. As Government allowance for clothing was only $42 a year and the securing of sufficient apparel seemed necessary, not a few boys in the Thirty-ninth found themselves in debt to Uncle Sam instead of being Aug. 29, '63 prospective recipients of two months' pay, one of the hardships that the men were obliged to undergo through no fault of their own. Over in the Fifth Army Corps, on the 29th, was enacted a play in real life, if such a scene could be called a play—the execution of deserters. The coming and going of recruits had become so common that examples must be made of some of the flagrant cases. Drafted men, unwilling to enter the service, had the privilege of purchasing exemption by the payment of a large sum of money, the men accepting the same and taking the place of the drafted men received the general name of substitutes. In quite too many cases these men, finding the occupation lucrative, deserted again and again, each time re-enlisting, gaining many dollars thereby, while the army received no increase. These five men, shot to death while sitting upon their coffins, afforded a salutary lesson for others, similarly inclined, to see and heed. General F. A. Walker, in his history of the Second Army Corps, says, "The shooting of a score of bad men in 1861 would literally have saved the lives of thousands of good men in 1862 and 1863." The best soldiers were those who, realizing the peril of their country, took their lives in their own hands and, as it were, offered them a willing sacrifice for the Nation's salvation; if they escaped death, that was their good fortune, their supreme devotion was nothing lessened thereby. The month ended with an inspection by Lieut. Colonel Peirson and muster for two months' pay.

In the concluding days of August, pains had been taken in rearranging the camp, resulting in well defined company streets, and thereafter much time was spent in securing boughs and placing them so as to lessen the burning heat of midday; it is an excellent trait of healthy, well meaning men that, following a brief rest, they always are disposed to enhance the possibilities of comfort. With the 3rd of September (Thursday) came a rigid inspection of equipments and clothing, conducted by General Robinson,[F] Division Commander, the event having a suspicion of greater military activity. The entire brigade with its six regiments numbers about two thousand men, of whom the Thirty-ninth constitutes more than one-fourth, our Regiment being the only one not yet exposed to the losses of battle. Another indication of aggression or apprehension is the building of defenses and the advance of the Union picket line; a like approach of the enemy brings the Blue and the Gray pretty near each other. Friday night, the 4th, was noteworthy in that boxes, which should have reached the Regiment in Washington, were announced. Of course the food, prepared by loving hands in the distant North, was long past the condition of use, but articles of apparel came in a most convenient season; had they come before leaving Washington or on the trip southward, they doubtless would have been thrown away or, at any rate, left behind in some of the cachés established on the march.

FIRST ANNIVERSARY.

Sunday, the 6th of September, set many a mind to thinking, for it was the first anniversary of the departure from Boxford, and a year before hardly an enlisted man thought the war would last so long, yet he beheld himself a mere atom in the immensity of the strife, at the moment taking breath before the next effort. One of the scribes writes in his book of innermost thoughts, "I see very few signs of Sept. 12, '63 the end as yet." Another laments the barbarity of men and boys who, gently born and reared, will destroy needlessly the property that comes in their way, instancing a beautiful house, across the river, out towards Culpeper, whose F.F.V. owner had followed the Confederates in their falling back, and not only had the furniture, elaborate and choice, been utterly broken to pieces, but the covering of the mansion had been torn off also, so that the bare framework of the structure remained, only one of hundreds of examples that might be narrated. On this day a cavalry force, under the lead of Generals Buford, Kilpatrick and Gregg advanced across the Rappahannock and, engaging the mounted force of General J. E. B. Stuart, drove it steadily back to and through Culpeper, capturing one hundred prisoners and some of the English light guns of the enemy. Dashing along to the Rapidan, Buford and his men, encamped on the banks of that already noted stream and then made their way back, not without difficulty, to the Union side of the Rappahannock.

With the beginning of the second year's service since the start from Boxford, enters a new division of time in the camp:—Reveillé at sunrise, police-duty, fifteen minutes later; sick-call at 6 a. m.; breakfast, 7; drill, 7.30; recall, 9.30; dinner, 12.30; drill, 3 to 5; dress parade, sunset; tattoo, 8.30; taps, 9 p. m. A long-needed rain came in violent form on the 12th, doing much good, yet was not exactly comfortable for those who had their tents blown down; however, well filled springs were quite consoling in that the regular water supply had grown conspicuously low. The 12th, too, is the day which marked the departure of Longstreet from Lee's army to the relief of Bragg in Georgia and Tennessee, not to return till the battle of the Wilderness is in progress. It takes very little time for the news to reach the hither side of the Rappahannock and an immediate movement towards the south follows, the Second Corps and the Cavalry being the first to advance on the 13th, with the purpose of so engaging the attention of Lee that he will send no more troops to assist in the possible discomfiture of Rosecrans.

The 14th marked the coming of Paymaster Major Burt, and the squaring of accounts for the preceding two months, though the clothing items reduced the compensation in certain cases almost to the vanishing point. Constant activity across the river, the passing of many heavily loaded trains and their return with loads of prisoners and wounded Union soldiers indicated the rapid pushing of things in that direction, and the inevitable advance of the remaining portions of the Federal force. Early in the morning of the 16th came the expected order to be ready to march at 5 a. m. Everything was in readiness, but the start was not made until 7 o'clock and then the regiment and the entire First Corps again crossed the Rappahannock by means of pontoon bridges and advanced towards Culpeper. A considerable part of the way was over an excellent road, though the rations, extra supplies of cartridges and the recently filled knapsacks made the way a hard one. Recent experience of cold nights had taught the men the necessity of retaining their extra apparel but, if some of the unnecessary ammunition were thrown away, it was because the men soon learned that large quantities of cartridges were entirely too burdensome. Though the distance marched was only twelve miles it seemed very much longer, leading by Brandy Station, a name in a few months to become almost a household word both North and South, and in general along the line of the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. While the Second and Sixth Corps had advanced to the Rapidan, the First Corps was held in reserve, some three miles east of Culpeper.

For a little more than a week this was to be the camping place of the Thirty-ninth and with accustomed diligence there speedily followed the regular round of inspections, drills and parades, though there were many and large details for picket duty. An inspection on the 17th seemed largely for the purpose of ascertaining how generally Sept. 14, '63 or otherwise the men had retained the extra ammunition dealt out to them; how successfully delinquents were helped out by those who had retained their heavy loads was long a theme for lengthy dissertations in company circles. The location of the camp upon a rising knoll made it the sport of the winds and the distance of both wood and water was a special hardship. Even then, when water was obtained, it was found to be so hard or so impregnated with lime as to be very distasteful to New England men who had been brought up where soft water was quite the vogue. An indication of a more or less prolonged stay appeared on this, the 17th, when the regimental sutlers put in an appearance and setting up their tents were ready for business. They were not likely to follow too closely an army in motion. Also drills and inspections marked the resumption of regular soldier regimen. The weather was singularly cold for the season of the year; in strolling about the vicinity, it was easy to discover where the enemy had lately encamped.

The advent of eight days' rations on the 22d with an injunction to pack five days' portion in our knapsacks made us think that some unusual stunt was impending. A Division-drill signalized the 23rd, General Robinson conducting the same. The 24th brought the expected change, the regiment marching a few miles down the Rapidan near Raccoon Ford, occupying some portions of the camp held until this morning by the 12th Army Corps, the latter along with the Eleventh having been ordered to arrange for a transfer to the Army of the Cumberland in the Tennessee country; this move being made lest Longstreet's presence with his force should give too hard a problem for Rosecrans to solve. While the orders to Howard and Slocum, of the Eleventh and Twelfth respectively, were issued on the 24th, it was not till the 3rd of October that the great organizations reached their destination. Of far greater consequence to some of the men in the Thirty-ninth was the fact that home-boxes just arrived from Washington had to be left behind. The 25th sees the renewal of regular camp activities along with the necessary cleaning up after the departure of the Twelfth Corps. The 26th saw a large force of twenty-five men from each company, under the command of Lieut. Colonel Peirson, proceeding to the banks of the Rapidan for picket duty. It was while nearing this point that the residence of Dr. John H. Stringfellow of Kansas notoriety, then or later a Confederate Surgeon, was reached and the man himself was interviewed, who declared his undeviating secession proclivities. Though certain of these Massachusetts men would have liked to repay some of the debts due him, they concluded that he was getting his punishment as he went along, for evidently his situation in the midst of contending armies was rapidly reducing him to a condition of absolute destitution.

THE RAPIDAN.

Picketing along the Rapidan at this time was not a hardship, since by mutual consent there was no firing, and the native Yankee disposition to explore had full vent, when not actually on post, the reserve furnishing many opportunities for learning habits and conditions of the people not otherwise attainable. Relieving the Ninetieth Pennsylvania, one-half of the detail attended to extreme outpost duty, while the other part enjoyed absence of drill and inspections around the reserve camp, "Revelling in that delicious abandon, one bright spot in a soldier's life, when he can do just what he pleases." Thus it was an even turn-about during the days on the river, in these parts only a narrow stream of possibly three rods' width. Most cordial relations existed between Reb. and Fed. and the trades between the Blue and the Gray proved that no monopoly in the swapping habit was enjoyed by the Yankee. Whatever extra coffee the boys possessed proved to be as good as cash, if not better, when dealing with these Sept. 27, '63 lads from the Southland. They even swam across the river to partake of Northern hospitality and to facilitate exchanges. The nights being cold, campfires were kindled on both sides and the alleged enemies kept as comfortable as possible, in plain sight of each other.

In the stillness of the Sunday evening (27th) the Confederates in their camp indulged in a prayer-meeting and their hymns, the same that Northern Christians were singing at that very moment in the far away churches, were plainly heard by the hostile soldiery on our side of the stream. Need there be any wonder that some listeners moralized on the absurdity of men who read the same Bible and sang the same songs, spending several years of their lives, none too long at the longest in shooting at each other? Here took place the famous exchange of song, so often told in campfires and wherever it is desirable to prove that one touch of Nature makes the whole world kin. One night the Rebs. started off on the "Bonnie Blue Flag," and when their strains had ceased, the Yanks got back at them with the "Star Spangled Banner"; next the Boys in Gray tuned up with "Maryland, My Maryland" and those in Blue naturally retorted with "The Red White and Blue"; breaking the lull that ensued, our men started John Howard Payne's immortal and universal "Home Sweet Home"; scarcely had the first note been struck before the sympathetic enemy chimed in, and Virginian woods and hillsides echoed with the tender strains clearly showing how Saxon blood remembers. On another occasion a musical exchange, beginning with "Pennyroyal," ran through the list of then popular melodies, though all sang in unison, and very naturally, too, for ending "Old Hundred." Will not coming generations wonder that men who could together sing the old songs should ever fight each other?

Monday, the 28th, ended the stay by the river's side and the detail returned to camp, coming up with it some two miles nearer than when it was left, a fact that in no way disturbed those coming back. While a large part of the Regiment was on its tour of duty, those left behind were by no means idle and they too had their observations of Confederates who apparently had heard from Chickamauga, a favorite shout of theirs across the river being, "How are you, Rosey?" In the afternoon of the 27th, the Regiment and the whole Corps again changed locations; the pickets along the river could plainly see and hear the rebels at their respective tasks; the work upon their fortifications, their drills and other occupations. Here it was that Lieut. Colonel Peirson's detachment found the Regiment on its return. A short move on the 29th, brought the Regiment out of shelling range, but in a place so heavily wooded that trees had to be felled to make camping places, and on ground so low that very little rain made it extremely moist. By building bunks, we were enabled to keep out of the mud, but we were far from comfortable and, to crown all our discomforture, though there was water everywhere, as in the case of the Ancient Mariner, we found not a drop to drink; that had to be brought from a distance. The fires for cooking and bodily comfort were maintained with difficulty, and inflamed eyes, through prevailing smoke, became the rule.

Friday, October 2d, marked a sad day in the annals of the Divisions; the forenoon had been so rainy that it seemed as though nothing could add to the discomforts of the situation, yet the prospect of a march to witness the execution of a bounty-jumper was not so inviting as it might have been under less watery conditions. It was about noon that the Regiment fell into line, and, after standing an hour under the pelting rain, thoroughly drenched it moved out and in mud and water seemingly knee-deep marched some two miles or more to the assigned rendezvous where, after many changes of position to accommodate other portions of the Division, the rain having cleared away, the band of the Sixteenth Maine playing a dirge announced the approach of the procession; the same consisting of the provost Oct. 3, '63 guard, followed by an ambulance in which rode the prisoner, sitting upon his coffin, accompanied by his chaplain. Blindfolded and kneeling upon his coffin, the firing squad, obedient to orders, discharged their weapons and the deserter of the Ninetieth Pennsylvania passed on to his reward; however gruesome the scene may have been, undoubtedly the lesson was a valuable one upon such as thought the laws of the land could be broken with impunity.

The return from the execution to a camp, practically under water, was anything but inspiriting and whatever was eaten had to be taken out of the haversack, for campfires were out of the question and sleep to men soaking wet was hardly possible. The weather clearing during the night gave some chance for drying garments during Saturday, the 3rd, and Sunday began to seem endurable and adapted to letter writing, when there came orders to pack up, once at least heard with no sigh of regret. While waiting for orders to march, all ears were startled by the sound of cannonading, which proved to be an effort of the enemy to shell a Union wagon train which had driven somewhat near the rebel works. When the start was made and the new camping spot found, it proved to be an excellent one, high and dry, with plenty of wood and water, and by general consent, the site was first-class; in honor of the Surgeon-in-Chief of the First Corps, the place was known as "Camp Nordquist."

At dress parade, Oct. 7th, an order was read to the effect that men, desirous of changing from infantry regiments to light artillery batteries, could do so by sending their names through the proper channels. Much to the surprise of the officers, there was a very general response to the proposition; indeed two hundred and twenty-three men, almost one half of the effective regimental organization, had filled out papers. Colonel Davis forwarded the long list to division headquarters with his approval, but the applicants had so far overdone the matter, nothing came of it, save that General Robinson in a special order said that the service must inevitably suffer, if so many men were to go from one organization, and there the project ended. However fitting the men found Camp Nordquist, it was not theirs to remain there long, since after lights had been extinguished in the night of the 9th and the men were in the midst of their before-midnight slumbers, there came peremptory orders to pack up and be ready to march. Quickly responding, and building great fires for light and comfort, the Regiment was soon in place and prepared for the next command. It did not come until the morning of the 10th, when in obedience to it the Brigade, Division and all, started out over a by no means easy route and kept in motion until morning. Finding ourselves in the vicinity of Morton's Ford, we were ordered to cook breakfast and make ourselves as comfortable as possible.

A BACKWARD MOVE

An explanation of the event of this and subsequent days is in place here; by a singular coincidence, just as Meade was beginning to do what Lee had been expecting of him, for several weeks, the latter began a move similar to that of the year before when he had hurried Pope across the Rappahannock; in other words, he flanked Meade's right, thus making it necessary for the latter to end any southern plans that he may have formed, and to devote himself exclusively to heading off the Confederate leader. While the entire Union army is in motion our interest centres in the Regiment whose story is in progress. As originally proposed, the First Corps was to cross the Rapidan at Morton's or Raccoon Ford, co-operating with the Cavalry which was to cross the river at Germanna Ford, and to assail the Confederate right; meanwhile the Sixth Corps was to cross at a point further up the river and to attack Lee's left. An early attack was the motive for the very unseasonable start, though its purpose was largely negatived by the great fires with which the men had lighted their way through the night.

Oct. 11, '63 All day long the troops awaited the approach of Buford and his troopers before crossing, but no cavalry appeared; night approached and preparations for repose were afoot when the command came to pack up and be off. Evidently the purposes of Lee had been disclosed and an "About Face" was only preliminary to "Forward, March." The night was memorable to those concerned in its exactions, not so much for its length as on account of the difficulties encountered. Along a narrow road, infantry and artillery jostled each other, frequently the former having to take to the fields, many of them low and marshy, or to lie along the roadside while the cannon had the thoroughfare. At last the top of the hills near Mountain Creek, where the first camp south of the Rappahannock had been pitched, was gained and an unparalleled scene broke upon the vision of these sleepy and wearied soldiers. As far as the eye could reach the entire landscape was starred with campfires, and it began to look as though we were to sleep on our old campground. Every conceivable noise saluted the ear; the stroke of axes as they cut up rails for fuel, the clamor of teamsters, endeavoring to get their teams through difficult places and the incessant hum of human voices, raised for a thousand reasons. It was midnight, however, before the Thirty-ninth was ready to commit itself to sleep, and even then, not for long, since at 2 a. m. of the 11th, the call to arms was heard by the tired and sleepy men.

All may have heard the call, but all did not obey at once. Some of them had been known to ignore parental rising calls at home and, on this occasion, they were the happy, lucky ones, since six o'clock arrived and still no orders to move forward, though the right of the corps had been long on the march. The many and rapid changes of the last thirty-six hours have brought about some hitherto unexperienced trouble. Many of the Regiment had been left on picket and one of those, performing this at present hazardous duty, records the following in his diary, "About nine (p. m.) receive orders to pack up and leave; march to our old camp and get some rations; then start again for Pony Mountain. About 3 a. m. (11th), arrive at our old campground, where we first stopped (Aug. 1) after crossing the Rappahannock, and I was just ready to lie down when we were ordered back about a mile to our Regiment." Not all, however, were so fortunate. Though under the command of that sterling veteran, Captain John Hutchins (C), owing to the darkness of the night, some of the men lost their way and thirteen were captured by closely following rebel cavalry; seven of the captives being from "E," the Somerville company, were as follows: Sergt. J. R. Hyde; Privates F. J. Oliver, Henry Howe, Joseph Whitmore, Washington Lovett, all of whom died in Andersonville; and Corp. G. W. Bean and Private J. W. Oliver; the corporal survived seventeen months of imprisonment, getting out March '65, while the private, more fortunate, was paroled after three or four months of durance; John K. Meade of "K" was also taken the same night, the event happening near Stevensburg, about six miles from the Regiment.

The soldier's time honored privilege of grumbling had free course this afternoon, since it was between 10 and 11 a. m. that the lines finally moved. The hardened campaigner understands that no one in the regiment is responsible for unseemly hours of turning out; it means just the same for shoulder straps that it does for men in the ranks; the enemy is near; exactly when or where he may appear no one knows, but all can be ready to respond immediately to the first command. The chances are that not even Colonel Davis was aware that to him and his regiment was to be entrusted a considerable part of the safety of the rear of the retreating army. Yet such was the case, and when the fact became apparent not over pleasant memories of their former experience in a similar duty were recalled; happily in this case the wagon trains had been hurried forward and the coast was comparatively clear all the way to Kelly's Ford, passing on the way all that was Oct. 2, '63 left of the hamlet of Stevensburg. Further down the river was a pontoon-bridge over which other troops were passing but, as the enemy was near, there could be no delay and at 5 p. m., or thereabouts, the men marched through, the water being about waist deep and, in chilly October, anything but agreeable. With all possible precautions taken for defense against the closely following foe, and with great fires to dry their saturated garments, the soldiers were soon comparatively comfortable.

CAMPAIGN OF MANEUVERS.

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:

I have returned to the Rappahannock. I did not pursue with the main army beyond Bristoe or Broad Run. Our advance went as far as Bull Run, where the enemy was entrenched, extending his right as far as Chantilly, in the yard of which he was building a redoubt. I could have thrown him farther back, but I saw no chance of bringing him to battle, and it would have only served to fatigue our troops by advancing farther. If they had been properly supplied with clothes, I would certainly have endeavored to have thrown them north of the Potomac; but thousands were barefooted, thousands with fragments of shoes, and all without overcoats, blankets or warm clothing. I could not bear to expose them to certain suffering on an uncertain issue.

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.

BRANDY STATION

The Rappahannock was crossed at Kelly's Ford by means of a pontoon bridge and, at 5 p. m., the Regiment was near Brandy Station, having marched ten or twelve miles; the route, where possible, was along the railroad which will be in operation to-morrow probably. Tents were pitched and large fires built and many were pleased to find not so very far away the Tenth (Sleeper's) Massachusetts Battery which we had left at Poolesville and now is connected with the First Division, Third Army Corps and which, yesterday, had borne its part in the incidents of the day. Many a handshake and "Glad to see you" signalized the meeting. The earlier part of the 9th was passed in the halting place of yesterday, some of the men improving the chance to call on friends in the Tenth Battery, but at two in the afternoon, the familiar "Pack-up" order was heard with the accompanying direction to be ready to march at four o'clock. A little before sunset, the start was made by a countermarch, recrossing the Rappahannock on the pontoon bridge and a long, wearisome, night trip followed, one of the features being the first snowstorm of the season, Oct. 10, '63 all tending to make a very tired lot of men, who were pushed along without halting to Licking Run, between Bealton and Warrenton Junction, possibly fifteen miles from the starting place, arriving a little past midnight. Very many fell out on the way quite unable to stand the pace, and those who did stick to the colors wasted no time in preparations for camp, but dropped at once and straightway fell asleep.