Wednesday, June 15th.
The Second Corps infantry and several of its batteries of artillery crossed the river to-day and started for Petersburg. About 9 in the morning our regiment was ordered up close to the river bank preparatory to crossing, but was held there all day waiting for an opportunity, the means of crossing being quite inadequate for the Corps. Taking advantage of the delay, I sent one of my men to a sutler to get something for me toothsome to eat, and he returned with what he said was the only can of boned turkey the sutler had, and with that and some hardtack which I had secured from a Commissary, I sat on a log on the banks of the James indulging in the most delightful luncheon I had taken for several weeks, and watching the troops and artillery crossing the river several feet below me. Many amusing scenes were witnessed from my log, perhaps the most amusing one of which was the struggle of two mules apparently to drown each other. They had been pushed off of a ferryboat into the river, and having their harnesses on, and being more or less strapped together, independent action was quite impossible, and so they devoted their energies to climbing over each other, the result of which was that each was alternately above and below the surface of the water until at length some of the teamsters got a rope fastened to one of the harnesses and dragged them ashore none the worse for their aquatic exercise. My company cook, Skinkle, had somwhere during the campaign picked up a wounded mule of great size, and by dint of careful nursing had secured a most useful beast of burden, upon which he hung the heavier cooking utensils of the company, his own knapsack and occasionally the knapsack of some weary comrade. Many other similar “waifs and strays” had been caught and utilized by the foot soldiers in the same way, until it seemed as if these “attached recruits” were more numerous than the regular “rank and file” of their kind. When we reached the James an order was promulgated to the effect that none of these useful animals should be permitted to cross, and when they were turned loose on the plain above the river it was surprising to see what an immense drove there was. Skinkle tried several times to run the guards, but his load of pots and kettles betrayed him and he was finally compelled to abandon the effort. Just at this juncture a bright idea struck “Little Scovil,” the youngest and the smallest man in the company, and coming to me very deferentially, he said that if I would give him “leave of absence” for the afternoon he would guarantee to get the mule across the river, and he appealed to my selfish interest by saying that the beast had carried my own overcoat and blanket many a mile, and would be wanted again for the same service. Upon getting his “leave,” Scovil distributed the motley load of “camp and garrison equipage” among the men of the company, for the mule had many friends, to be taken across by them, and, shedding his uniform, boldly led the beast down on to one of the boats with the mules of a wagon train, and actually safely delivered it to Skinkle on the other side.
