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Page 37
On Friday evening, the 10th, we rejoined the column at Waynesboro', a
welcome arrival, for grub was terribly scarce. Here was the Sixth Corps,
Army of the Potomac, under General Neal--'Bucky Neal,' a 'Potomaker'
called him. For a time we belonged to it, and adorned our caps with the
badge of the corps, cut out of cracker.
On Saturday evening we crossed the line into Maryland, fording the
Antietam creek, the bridge over which the rebs had burned; and Sunday we
footed it back and forth over roads and across lots, bringing up at
Cavetown.
'Earthquakes, as usual,' wrote Lady Sale, in her 'Diary.' 'Rain, as
usual,' wrote we. And such rain! They do a heavy business in rain in
that region, and in thunder and lightning, too. I have heard Western
thunder storms described, but I doubt if they surpass such as are common
beneath these mountains. Four poor fellows of the 56th, who were sitting
beneath a tree, were struck by lightning--one of them killed.
On Monday we camped at Boonsboro', and on Tuesday beside a part of
Meade's army. When I saw all the wagons here, and what an immense job it
is to move any considerable force, with all the delays that may come
from broken wheels, lame horses, and bad roads, I could not but smile at
the military critics at home, who show you how general this should have
made a rapid movement so; or general that hurled a force upon that
point, &c.
Here, near Boonsboro', on Tuesday night, the 14th, news of the riot in
New York reached us. The near approach of the expiration of our time had
already made much talk of home, and now anxiety was doubled. Rumors flew
through camp, and all ears and mouths were open, and before we settled
for the night it came. Orderlies carried directions through the ranks to
have all ready and clean up pieces to go home.
In the morning our Battery friends came up to say good-by. Seventy-first
buttons were exchanged for their crossed-cannon badges, songs sung and
cheers given _ad lib_.
Soon we all started, bound, we knew, for the cars at Frederick City. The
last march! It was very warm, and the road across the mountains often
steep, but there was little straggling.
Most incidents of soldier life grow tame, but to the last the spectacle
of the column on march retained its impressiveness for me.
We passed through Frederick just at dusk--ejaculating tenderly 'Ah! ah!'
as fair damsels waved handkerchiefs at us--and went out to the junction.
The cars were ready. We had done the last march. Twenty-five miles that
day! And I had gone through this month of walking without foot trouble,
for which I am indebted to my 'pontoons,' i.e., Government shoes. Take
them large enough, and they are the only things to walk in.
Marching is the hardest thing I met with. I have always been a regular
and good walker. But ordinary walking is no preparation for marching.
The weight of musket and accoutrements, the dust (rain and mud in our
case), the inability to see before you, and the necessity of keeping up
in place, are all wearing and nervously exhausting.
We did not get off at once. Red tape delayed us, and we growled
savagely. But we had plenty to eat, and a river beside us. So, bathing
and eating, we passed Thursday in sight of the train. At length red tape
was untied, and Thursday night the 8th and 71st set off, in cattle cars.
This time the advance was a privilege. In Baltimore we were beset by
women trying to sell cakes, and boys trying to beg cartridges. Along the
road we ate, smoked, and slept. In Philadelphia we had 'supper' in the
'United States Volunteers' Refreshment Saloon.' I remember a bright girl
there, who got me a second cup of coffee.
And so, Saturday morning, the 18th, we took the boat at Amboy, within
two hours of home! But there was less hilarity than usual on the return
of a regiment. Our news from the city was not the latest, and our
grimmest work might be to come--and in New York! Woe to any show of a
mob we had met! The indignation was deep and intense.
But in two minutes after we landed on the Battery, papers were
circulated through the ranks, and we knew all was quiet.
So up Broadway. We were too early in the street to gather much of a
crowd. Those who were out hailed us heartily, and at the corner of Grand
street or thereabouts an ardent individual from a fourth-story window,
plying two boards cymbal-wise (_clap_-boards, say), initiated a
respectable noise. And so round the corner and into the armory at Centre
Market. The campaign was over, and a few days after we were paid off and
mustered out.
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