Diary of a Young Officer–Josiah Marshall Favill (57th New York Infantry)

On the tenth of December the colonel received a letter from the adjutant general of the state, stating that I had been appointed first lieutenant and adjutant of the regiment and would be commissioned as such just as soon as he would furnish the date of Fiske’s appointment as assistant adjutant general of volunteers. I feel very proud of this appointment, and of the colonel’s good opinion. It is only about three months since I joined the regiment, unknown to every officer in it, and now enjoy the distinction of holding the most sought for subaltern position in it.

What a delightful prospect ahead, to think of riding, instead of marching. My feet are not good enough for tramping, and after every march I have been partially disabled; from this time hence, I hope to ride, but as we have not been paid yet, I shall have to wait awhile before I can buy a horse; in the meantime McKibben, our good natured quartermaster, is furnishing me with an animal that requires infinite skill to ride; he is a constitutional kicker, and don’t like any one on his back, so I have the opportunity of exercising an animal that requires a good deal of skill to manage, all of which will be useful to me I hope.

On Christmas day the camp was en fete; in the morning, we had a full dress review and inspection; and were then dismissed for the day, only the guard being on duty. Most of the officers went to Alexandria; the others dispersed amongst their friends in other commands, every one in search of amusement. I remained in camp to dinner, and had a very good one, with enough of liquid refreshment to properly digest it. In the afternoon, the major and I rode out towards Edsals Hill, some five miles distance on the railroad, where our division picket line was established; up to this time our regiment had not been on picket duty, and were eager to get out to the front, to have a possible glimpse of the enemy; it is now under orders for this duty, for a tour of four days, and so we rode out to examine the ground beforehand. The road was bad, and the country desolate and impoverished, but the ride did us good, and we returned to camp in the best of spirits.

The following morning the regiment turned out, six hundred strong, fully equipped, blankets rolled, and supplied with forty rounds of ammunition, and four days’ cooked rations; marching immediately after breakfast for the picket line, Parisen in command. I rode for the first time at the head of the regiment, and found it a very great improvement to trudging on foot. When we arrived on the ground the regiment formed in line, and details were made for reserves and picket post when we proceeded to relieve the withdrawing regiment, which was drawn up in line to receive us; taking our instructions from the old guard, we soon prepared the details, and I was ordered to go out and relieve the pickets, which proved most fascinating; for the first time, we formed the fringe of the army, and were to be its eyes and ears. All in front of us was an unknown region, with rare opportunities for adventure, and the men as well as officers, seemed delighted at the change; after relieving all the posts, drawing a plan, and marking the picket posts down on it, I returned to the reserve headquarters, meeting on the way the major, at an old log house, chatting away with an old woman and a pretty young girl. They told us all about the country; that the Johnnies picketed the same position, some time ago; visited them every day asking similar questions, and equally interested in getting news of our doings; they were reticent, and did not tell us anything of consequence, but the girl enjoyed being talked to and we were nothing loth to accommodate her. Notwithstanding it rained the first day and night very heavily, we managed to keep moderately dry; the men in little brush shelters, packed so closely, and stood up at such an acute angle that the rain ran down, without going through. We used a dilapidated old log cabin for headquarters, which, as it had a large fire place, was quite comfortable. In the evening, all hands sat around the blazing fire, told stories, and smoked our pipes; later on, arranging our saddles for pillows on the floor, we lay down, and slept tolerably well; being on grand guard duty, of course we did not take off our clothes, or arms, and on this account did not sleep very soundly. The following morning we started on a scouting expedition as far as Burk’s Station. We got together all the officers and men we could mount, with two full companies of infantry, under La Valley; the weather had become clear, cold, and bright, and we started about ten o’clock, in fine form, the officers riding ahead, pretty well deployed, the infantry following, along the railroad track; we had a glorious gallop, keeping our eyes open for the sight of a gray back. When we approached a house we completely encircled it, cocked our pistols, and rode up together; then two or three dismounted, and went in whilst the others kept watch; in this way we visited every house within our line of march, in order to satisfy ourselves there was no one there belonging to the other side; our interviews with the feminine housekeepers, who were not the least afraid, were sometimes very amusing; they had no hesitation in pitching into us, and calling us all sorts of hard names, but we took it good naturedly, and quite enjoyed their frankness; they told us, among other things, that the rebels frequently came out on just such expeditions as we were on and with similar objects in view, and some of them, were good enough to wish we might meet them and get captured. In fact we wanted to meet some of them, and have a little skirmish, but went quite up to the station without meeting any one whatever. There we found a couple of large houses, and a deserted camp of log huts, accomodations for a brigade. While looking over these splendidly built huts, we got a glimpse of the rebels pickets, several men and a couple of small fires being in sight. The men were greatly pleased at seeing a real enemy, but did not molest them. In one of the large houses we found a very old, blind gentleman, and two young women, his daughters; he mistook us for rebels, and made himself very agreeable, bringing out milk and pies, and inviting us to help ourselves. By the time his good things were despatched, La Valley with his blue coated infantry came up, and gave us away. The old man was greatly chagrined, but did not say anything. After quite a stay to rest the men and horses, we bid our host good bye, promising to call again soon. Leaving La Valley to return by the road, we put spurs to our horses, and enjoyed a magnificent gallop across the country, reaching the picket reserve on Edson Hill about dusk, much pleased with our first experience of scouting. At the end of the four days, we were in turn relieved, and marched back to camp.

_______

Note: This part of the “diary” is more of a recollection than a day by day diary.  I am splitting it up for posting on Daily Observations from the Civil War at what appear to be appropriate points; these may differ somewhat from actual historical records.

December 7, 1861.

ON the 25th of November General Casey was relieved from the command of the provisional brigade, and Colonel Zook as senior colonel present for duty, assumed command in his stead. Fiske was made temporary assistant adjutant-general, and I was detailed as acting adjutant of the regiment, much to my satisfaction. Hard work was the lot of all of us in this camp, for drills and inspection were continually the order of the day; we are so far advanced now that our evening dress parade is quite worth seeing, and many people from Washington come out every evening to have a look at us. Our battalion drills are the most fascinating, for the colonel is completely au fait in the manœuvering of the regiment. I think he knows by heart every word of the book of tactics. We had a grand review of all the troops near us the other day, before Casey left, and I found myself in command of a division, two hundred strong, which was the first time I ever enjoyed so much distinction. What a glorious thing it seemed, to be in command of so many men, bravely marching in front of them, with bands playing, colors flying, and crowds of people admiring and cheering; how proudly we marched, and how thoroughly satisfied with ourselves we were.

We hear little of the enemy, which is strange, and that little we get through the columns of the New York papers mostly. Their lines are close up, in sight of Washington, and have been, since the disastrous Bull Run campaign, Monson’s Hill is their advanced post, and is in full view of some of our works, and their flag flies defiantly without molestation. The Potomac is held by the rebels from below Alexandria to the Chesapeake bay. They have batteries all along the river, in many places torpedos planted, and navigation is completely closed, except that an occasional gunboat of ours goes down the river, and stirs them up a little, but no effort is made as yet to drive them away. In fact, we are not ready, and although the papers are getting very restless, because of our delay in moving upon the enemy, we shall not do so till we are fully prepared.

Zook’s command of the provisional brigade did not last long; on the 27th, we received orders No. 31 from headquarters, Army of the Potomac, directing the regiment to march into Virginia and report to General Sumner, at Camp California, situated between two and three miles from Alexandria, along the Fairfax turnpike, close to the Orange and Alexandria Railroad; the other regiments of the provisional brigade were also ordered over and Zook, as senior officer, took command; the next morning, November 28th, we crossed the long bridge again, just as the Seventy-first did in July last, and like them again, sang, “I wish I was in Dixie.” It was not so exhilarating to me, heading again for the Virginia mud and pine forests, as it was to the others probably, who had not been there before, but we made a very gay appearance on the whole, with all the men in fine spirits. After crossing the bridge, we were left to find our way without maps or guides, and as every vestige of a road had long since been obliterated by the general practice of selecting the shortest distance between any two points, irrespective of roads; we soon lost our reckoning. It had been raining almost all day, and towards evening it poured in torrents; the roads were villainous, but at length we reached a place called Benton’s tavern, foot sore and weary and here learned that we were away in advance of our destination, and only separated from the enemy by a line of videttes. The men being tired out, and the day almost gone, the colonel decided to bivouac for the night, so we turned into the fields near a brick yard, and by the liberal use of pine brush, made ourselves not comfortable, but something better off than being entirely exposed. At reveille the next morning we were a sorry looking lot, covered with mud, wet, cold, and stiff, every bit of our pride gone, and our gold lace without attraction. Campaigning in November, without tents, is not very comfortable at any time, or under any conditions, but to new soldiers, in rainy weather, the difficulties are immense. I had learned something about bivouacking, in the Bull Run campaign, and found that experience very useful now. After a cup of coffee made from the extract of that article, which Fiske luckily had with him, I soon felt as well as usual, but not so the colonel; a victim of rheumatism, he found himself quite unable to walk. About an hour after reveille a mounted orderly from General Sumner’s headquarters arrived to conduct us to our camp, and within two hours we arrived at Camp California, just under shelter of the guns of Forth Worth. Staff officers were on hand who showed the colonel where to form line of battle on the road, and march forward to the crest of a series of small hills, a few hundred yards in advance. This being done, the line was dressed, arms stacked, and the troops dismissed, and immediately set to work erecting tents and laying out a camp, the material for which, in the shape of “A” tents and boards for floors, was already on the ground. The location was not very promising for a permanent residence, the two left companies being on low, wet ground, subject to submersion during heavy rains, and separated from the rest of the regiment by quite a stream of water; yet the colonel was unsuccessful in getting permission from Sumner to move them in the least particular, and the two unfortunate companies were obliged to raise their streets, much as the Dutch raised their banks and streets in Holland. Notwithstanding the weather and our inexperience, before night the men were comfortably quartered in “A” tents, and the officers in wall tents, and so our first winter quarters as real soldiers were established.

We formed a brigade under command of Brigadier-General W. H. French, encamped from right to left as follows: the Fifty-second New York, Colonel Frank; Fifty-seventh New York, Colonel Zook; Fifty-third Pennsylvania Volunteers, Colonel Brooke, and Sixty-sixth New York, Colonel Pinckney. In the centre of our regiment’s camp stands a fine old tree, and beneath its branches flows a splendid stream of pure, cold water, sufficient for the use of the entire regiment, which proved a great luxury. Brigade headquarters, consisting of five picturesque Sibley tents, is across the road, on a little eminence in the rear of the Fifty-third; an old mill being used as an office, on the north side of a small stream near by, which runs directly in front of our line, affording good facilities for the soldiers’ washing day. Division headquarters is in a house immediately on the right of the Fifty-second, the general and staff however, sleeping in tents erected in the front yard, General Sumner, having constitutional objections to officers of his command sleeping in houses when tents are to be had.

As soon as the boundaries of the camp were established, sentinels were posted to keep the men in; and no officer, or enlisted man, was allowed outside the limits of the regimental camp without a pass from the colonel. The following day, when General French assumed command, he issued orders prohibiting any officer from going to Alexandria or Washington, without his permission. As a matter of fact, no officer or enlisted man can get into either place without a proper pass, or once in, cannot get out again, and no authority less than the commander of a fort, or brigade, is recognized. A few days after the formation of the brigade, General French appointed our adjutant, Fiske, upon his staff as acting assistant adjutant general, and Colonel Zook detailed me as acting adjutant of the regiment, in his place, and I moved my quarters immediately from the company street into a double wall tent, just in front of the colonel’s tent, using the front part for an office, and the rear for private use.

The duties are very arduous, requiring both officers and men to work early and late; the officers are obliged to study, and attend recitations before the colonel several times a week. My duties are immense. The adjutant is expected to know everything, and is obliged to give opinions on every conceivable question, and in consequence, I have to study the army regulations both early and late; naturally I am tolerably familiar with them already, and rapidly becoming an expert. But this is not all; we are flooded with orders from army headquarters, the War Department, division and brigade headquarters, on every conceivable subject, and it is my duty to read these important orders to the regiment after dress parade, and to remember their contents, and see that they are carried out; truly the life of an adjutant in this camp is one of extreme hard work and anxiety, but it has its pleasures, too.

As we are to remain here all winter, drilling and training, the regiment is exerting itself to make things comfortable; our beds are formed of poles laid on crotches, driven into the ground, then strewn with cedar branches, over which are spread our blankets, and so, raised from the ground, we are extremely comfortable. In almost every officer’s tent is a little sheet iron stove, answering the double purpose of heating the tent and cooking the food; they work well enough in nice weather, but when wanted most, when it is cold and the wind blows, they are a regular fraud, the smoke invariably coming out at the door, instead of going out of the chimney. We have patent folding tables, chairs, and mess boxes, in endless variety.

One of the most important matters in campaigning, to ensure the comfort of an officer, is a capable man servant; he ought to be a soldier first, then agreeable, good looking, sober and honest, competent to wash, mend, and keep in order your entire wardrobe, cook, in case of an emergency, keep your arms and accoutrements in good condition, and above and beyond all, good natured, and full of resources. A man fitting this description luckily fell to my lot immediately after I was appointed acting adjutant; he belonged to Company F, Captain McKay, and his name was Seth Raymond; his superior was not to be found in the army, and as he became my second self I will describe his appearance. He was five feet eight inches in height, straight as an arrow, and formed like an Apollo; a fine head, and extraordinary face, straight, prominent nose, gray, expressive eyes, high forehead, and squarish chin; he wore a fine, stiff moustache, and hair closely cropped, both tinged with gray, not on account of age, but previous condition. He wore the regulation uniform, except the cap, in place of which he always wore a red fez, with long blue silken tassels; he was never without spotless white gaiters, that confined his trousers over his shoes, and was every inch a soldier, in his walk, dress, and actions. He first came to me as adjutant’s clerk, being a beautiful writer, but begged to be taken as servant instead, and as I liked him from the first, we struck a bargain, and henceforth he was always known as my man.

At first, the regimental officers messed separately, generally two or more clubbing together for this purpose, eating in their tents. I commenced by messing alone, Seth doing the cooking on the little stove that heated the tent, but the result was a dead failure; I sat and watched the operation of frying a miserable slice of beef, or pork, inhaling the fumes and smoke, until by the time it was ready, my appetite was entirely gone; shortly after I was appointed adjutant, the colonel came to the rescue, and invited me to join his mess; here was a regular cook, a master of his art, a complete mess chest, large enough for a dozen, and we lived like Christians.

The change was most agreeable. Besides the variety and excellency of the food, the meals were served regularly, so that whereas formerly eating was a burden, now it became a genuine pleasure, bringing with it a pleasant social intercourse that added greatly to the pleasure of camp life. The colonel, Major Parisen, Quartermaster McKibbon, Doctor McKim, and myself, constituted the mess. At the end of every month the cook produced his list of expenditures, which was divided equally, averaging about thirty dollars apiece.

The colonel was exceedingly agreeable, and Parisen, and McKim too, very jovial, and so we became a very happy family in a short time. We now settled down to business in earnest. General Sumner is one of the greatest martinets in the army, known in the old army as the bull in the china shop, and General French, our brigade commander, was before his promotion a major of artillery, enjoying the reputation of a great tactician, so that we have capable instructors, and are sure to make rapid progress in soldiering. Every morning we have squad, platoon, and company drills; in the afternoon, battalion, or brigade drills; bayonet exercise, skirmish drill, and firing at targets sometimes. Of course we have a dress parade every evening, which is very pretty, every regiment of the brigade being in line at the same time. Just before the regiment is dismissed I step to the front, and after giving the command, attention to orders, read aloud, so that the whole regiment can hear, the various orders which have accumulated during the day. It is surprising how much business is involved in running a regiment properly. The first thing in the morning is the morning report, showing the complete state of the regiment, number present, absent, sick, or otherwise, and give particulars in each case; this must be taken in person by the adjutant to brigade headquarters at nine o’clock; from these reports, the adjutant of the brigade consolidates the figures, and sends them to division headquarters, so that by half past nine o’clock General Sumner always knows the exact state of his command. Then we have various other reports to make; to the Secretary of War, the Quartermaster Department, Ordnance Department, etc., so that all my time when not drilling with the regiment is occupied superintending this kind of work. I have an excellent clerk, permanently detailed, who does most of the writing, and so with the assistance of the very capable sergeant-mayor Brewster, we manage to keep the business of the office well in hand. After dress parade, our time, is our own, as a rule, and generally we go for a ride amongst the various camps; of course we are only one division amongst many; the hills and country, as far as the eye can reach being everywhere dotted with white tents, all occupied by troops, hard at work, just as we are. Owing to our two distinguished commanding officers, Sumner and French, we enjoy the special reputation of excellency in discipline, and judging from what I can see, I think justly so.

Our first division general orders gave the daily routine: Reveille at 5 A. M., half an hour later, regiments assemble on the color line, fully armed and equipped, roll call by sergeants, all company officers required to be present, after which all officers to report to the adjutant the number of men and officers present at roll call. Reveille sounds long before daylight, and so we call the roll by means of lighted candles, stuck in the muzzles of the sergeants’ guns; upon a cold, windy snowy morning, this early parade is much more picturesque than comfortable. After roll call the companies are marched back to their company streets, and dismissed, the officers usually turning in again, to finish their night’s sleep.

It seems to most of us that this early roll call is responsible for lots of the sickness there is in camp; typhoid, malaria, and measles are the prevailing troubles, and many men have already fallen victims. Sumner thinks, however, it is a military necessity, and so we are obliged to keep it up.

_______

(Late July to Late November, 1861)

Two days after the regiment returned to the yard it was ordered home by rail, going by way of South Amboy, and landed at pier 1, North River; from thence it marched up Broadway to the armory on Centre Street. Depositing our arms and accoutrements, we were dismissed till the 30th of July, when the regiment was mustered out of service and paid off, and so ended our first campaign.

AS soon as I was mustered out of service with the Seventy-first regiment I lost no time in seeking for a commission, fully determined to return to the field, but not as a private soldier. I soon found that commissions were to be obtained only by securing a certain number of men to enlist, and so after applying to various organizations in every state of formation, all with the same results, in connection with an ex-Danish officer, Julius Ericcson, living in Brooklyn, I set to work to raise the requisite number of men to secure the prize. New York and Brooklyn were transformed into immense recruiting camps. In all the public squares and parks hundreds of tents were erected, covered with flags and immense colored bills, on which the advantage of the various branches of the service were fully stated. There were bands of music and scores of public speakers, all engaged by patriotic citizens, to stimulate the military ardor of the other fellow, and get him to enlist for three years. We soon found a great change had come over the spirit of the people since the departure of the militia regiments, in April. Then, everybody wanted to go; now, apparently, most people wanted to stay at home. We put up a wall tent in the New York City Hall Park, and another at the junction of Atlantic and Flatbush Avenues, Brooklyn, in an open lot. The captain and I took turns in attendance in New York, while John Ericcson, the captain’s eldest son, who was to go out as orderly sergeant, was put in charge of the Brooklyn tent. We got some immense posters printed, and among other inducements offered by our company was the experience of the future officers, one gained in a foreign service, the other on the field of Bull Run. Notwithstanding these seeming advantages, our best efforts, and the prodigious enthusiasm of the times, recruiting proved very slow. I coaxed one man into enlisting, through my knowledge of the Crimean War, one Stuart, a fine six-foot Englishman who had served in the Crimean War and had been a soldier in the British army almost all his life. He took hold with a will, and we put him in charge of the tent as second sergeant. As the recruiting proved so slow at home, it was decided to send me, at the expense of the State, to Oswego, N. Y., and there I promptly repaired; advertised in both the daily papers, setting forth the advantages of a metropolitan regiment. While there I enjoyed the brief distinction of being the only man in town who had been at Bull Run, and in consequence, was feted and honored as an exceptional personage.

With the assistance of a young man named Hamilton, native there, I actually obtained some twenty-nine or thirty men, and was just upon the point of starting with them to New York, when they deserted in a body, and went over to one of the local organizations. Disgusted, I returned immediately, and in a few days afterwards went to Poughkeepsie, and remained there for two weeks, but succeeded in getting only about half a dozen men, mostly from Wappingers Falls. I was taken, while in that place, with a severe attack of fever and ague and was almost shaken to pieces. Considering the ground no longer profitable I returned home, and found we had already got more than the number required by the State, to muster us into its service, with a captain and first lieutenant; and so, on the 23d of September, 1861, we marched our company of recruits to the state arsenal on Elm Street, where they were stripped naked, examined by a surgeon, and all of them passed as able bodied men. Then the mustering officer called the roll, and every man in succession stepped one pace to the front, took the oath of allegiance to the State, and swore to serve as a soldier for three years, or during the war. Immediately afterwards, in compliance with the State law a very perfunctory election of officers took place, in presence of the mustering officer; and Julius Ericcson was declared duly elected captain and I the first lieutenant of the new company. The muster roll was made out, signed by the mustering officer, and we were at last in the service of the State; legally held for duty, and under pay. Before leaving the arsenal, the company was furnished with uniforms, underclothing, haversacks, canteens, and blankets, and at once divested themselves of their citizen garb, and emerged from the arsenal, looking something like real soldiers.

The company was ordered to Staten Island, and so we marched directly to the ferry, landing at the lower station, Fort Wadsworth, and went into camp at Chestnut Grove, a private park surrounding a fine deserted mansion, a short distance in rear of the forts. The first night the men were quartered in the lower part of the house, while we occupied the upper part, but the day following, “A” tents were sent over, and under my direction, assisted by Sergeant Stuart, they were put up facing each other on a wide fine street, at the head of which was pitched a tent for the orderly sergeant. The captain desired to remain with his family in town, and so elected to take charge of the recruiting service, leaving the command of the company to me, which exactly suited my taste.

I went to work immediately to drill and discipline the company, and devoted every moment to the work. We drilled in squads, platoons, and company, pitched and struck tents, and the men soon began to look and act like real soldiers. After dark I devoured the army regulations, and the book of tactics, and was proud and happy indeed.

On the 27th of September I appeared before a board of examiners and received the following certificate, after which I donned by new uniform and gilt-hilted sword, and returned to Chestnut Grove, satisfied with all the world.

“State Of New York, Department Of Volunteers,
Division Armory, Corner White And Elm Street.
New York, September 27, 1861.

We the undersigned, examiners for the State of New York, Department of Volunteers, do hereby certify that we have examined Josiah M. Favill, in the School of the Soldier, and Company; and found him duly qualified to serve as a Company officer.

Col. W. N. Tompkins,
Henry P. Martin,

Examiners.”

The second day after our arrival, another company joined us, commanded by James W. Britt, with a Mr. Hale as first lieutenant. Britt remained mostly in the city, so Hale and I found ourselves as a rule, in charge, and worked together very satisfactorily. The men were fed by contract and fared well. The contractor also furnished the officers’ mess quite generously without cost to us, which I could not then, nor have since been able to understand. We dined off an improvised table of boards, and generally had several guests, to which the good-natured contractor made not the least objection; we slept on sofas, found in the house, and were altogether very comfortable. As soon as we were able to look about us we found Staten Island had been converted into an immense camp, and in every direction the ground was dotted over with white tents. Near to us was a regiment of Frenchmen, “Les Enfants perdu,” most excellently well named. They swarmed over the country at night, kicked up all kinds of rows, and were a terror to their officers, as well as the neighborhood. They had a fine band, which played a good deal of the time, and was greatly appreciated, giving an air of martial reality to the camps about us.

Our principal difficulty was to keep the men in camp. Sentinels patroled the camp throughout the night, but the men would slip away, generally returning much the worse for a carousal. Stuart proved a vertitable treasure. He taught the men all the tricks of an old soldier; how to make themselves comfortable with almost nothing; how to make comfortable beds; how to police the camp, strike and pitch their tents, and a thousand little things only learned by experience. Many people from the city and adjacent country visited the camps; the women especially were greatly interested in the primitive life of the new soldiers.

On October 18th, we received orders to march the following day to New Dorp, about four miles in the interior, there to be assigned to the Fifty-seventh New York Infantry, National Guard Rifles, commanded by Colonel Samuel K. Zook. On the morning of the 19th we broke camp, marched to the railroad, and thence by rail to New Dorp reporting at Camp Lafayette about noon. We found over seven hundred men there, some quartered in rude board barracks, others under canvas. They were dressed in various styles of uniform, being parts of several organizations, which for various reasons had been unable to complete their quotas, and thus could not be mustered into the United States service as regiments. The State accepted the companies, and mustered them and allowed a reasonable time for the completion of the proposed regiments, but if it appeared the full number could not be obtained, then the State arbitrarily formed them into regiments itself, and appointed the field officers, thus hastening the sending forward of men to the front, and transferring the cost to the broader shoulders of Uncle Sam. We marched into the enclosed camp ground and then, with nine other companies, were mustered as a regiment for the first time. As soon as the mustering officer had completed the inspection of the rolls, we took the oath of allegiance to the Government, and were henceforth known as the Fifty-Seventh New York Infantry Volunteers. There being only about eight hundred and fifty men, several of the state officers were rendered supernumerary and discharged.

I was obliged to accept a second lieutenancy, but felt thankful for being retained at all. Companies A, D, E, F, and G were recruited in New York City, B in Utica, C in Kings County, and H, I, and K in Duchess County. The three latter companies contained a number of men from the old regular Fourth infantry, who had been captured, and paroled by the rebel authorities in Texas. They were a well drilled lot of soldiers, and gave the regiment the appearance of regulars from the start, and were invaluable as instructors for the new men. Company F, Captain McKay, had the right; Company I, Captain Saunders, the left, and Company K, Captain La Valley, the colors; my company became E, Britt’s D, Kirk’s S, Horner’s H, Gott’s C, Chapman’s A, and Troop’s B. We were now in the service of the United States for three years, or the war, and settled down to regular military life.

The following morning regimental guard mounting commenced, and the camp was placed under martial law. My company was assigned to tents already pitched, the captain and I having a wall tent together, at the head of the street. Between drill hours, the men ornamented the company streets with pretty borders of oyster shells, etc., and took great pleasure in their new life. Many of the officers, however, showed more anxiety to get to town, than in the practice and study of their new profession; a fact which the colonel was not slow to recognize, and took pains to correct, as far as he could. The men were fed as at Chestnut Grove by, a contractor, but the officers were obliged to look out for themselves, and joined a mess at the hotel near by, where most of our evenings were spent when not on duty. The landlord’s daughters were extremely popular, and no officer of the Fifty-seventh, I think, will easily forget them. Individually, I found camp life altogether fascinating, and never left it except in case of necessity. I drilled the company, and studied night and day, both tactics and army regulations, looked after every detail, and, as a rule, was in command, the captain generally being in the city.

Several days after the organization of the regiment, I was officer of the guard, and received the first notice from the colonel. At the guard house there were only fifteen old smooth bore muskets, the regiment not being armed; in consequence, about half the guard were without arms. Soon after guard mounting, I received word that the colonel was at the hotel, and would shortly arrive in camp. This threw us all into a flutter of excitement, as the guard must be turned out on the approach of the commanding officer. As we wanted to make a good impression, we fell in for a preliminary effort, giving all the arms we had to the men in the front rank; after going through the regular form we stacked arms and awaited developments. In a few minutes the colonel put in an appearance. The guard fell in, took arms, opened ranks, and as he came up, presented arms and stood steady. The colonel acknowledged the salute, and walked entirely around the guard, examining their dress accoutrements and set up; and upon his inspection being completed, complimented me on its appearance, saying the men looked well, and he was pleased with our performance. Then he added, “Who told you to put all the arms in the front rank?” I said I had no orders for doing so, but thought we made a better appearance than if they were scattered through the ranks. “Yes, you showed good sense,” he said, and walked off. We were all much tickled with our success.

In the course of a week, an orderly came to my tent in the afternoon, and said the colonel wished to see me. Very much concerned, I reported to him at once, when to my relief, he demanded to know whether I could form the regiment for dress parade? I said yes; he then explained that Fiske, the adjutant, would not be there that evening, and that he had asked me to take his place from my success as an officer of the guard. I was delighted, and felt like a major-general. To be selected out of so great a number of officers, for such a duty, was very wonderful, and I went back and read the regulations over and over again. At the time appointed I formed the regiment easily enough, the drum corps beat oft, and without any error I went through the regular formula, and turned the command over to the colonel. After a few manœuvers, the officers were called up, some instructions given, and the regiment dismissed in regular form. On the way from the parade ground the colonel congratulated me on my success, and said he was glad to find I had studied the regulations. He seems to be a most unaffected, amiable, and matter-of-fact man, with an eye that glitters and looks you through and through. On the 5th of November we received arms, Enfield muskets; and sent out invitations to our friends, and those of the regiment, to join us in a celebration on the 7th inst., in honor of the presentation of colors to the regiment, by the City of New York. We made great preparations for this event, including a special railway train from the ferry to camp, and it proved to be a great success. Many distinguished people were present, among them Quartermaster-General Arthur, the personal friend of the colonel. There was a capital lunch, with all the champagne they could drink. I was disappointed in not seeing some of my dear friends present, but finding in the captain’s daughter a very beautiful and charming girl about seventeen, a kindred spirit, was soon lost in a desperate flirtation. Late in the afternoon, the whole body of officers, accompanied their guests to the railway station, and sent them off with vociferous cheers. The colors were very handsome: from the city, a large blue silk, gold fringed, and embroidered flag, with the arms of the city, two blue silk guidons also embroidered and fringed, and a plain United States flag, from the Government.

The day after the reception, orders were issued to prepare to start for the seat of war on the 12th, and immediately all became bustle and confusion. This time we were not going on a picnic excursion for three months, but for years, if necessary, and it seemed a very serious affair. I went home for a last visit in the afternoon, and remained all night, dressed very finely in full uniform, and enjoyed an informal reception, when I met almost every one I knew.

Early on the morning of the 12th, the regiment paraded for inspection, when everything not allowed by the regulations was thrown out, much to the chagrin of the men. After dinner the regiment marched out of camp, with prolonged and hearty cheers for Camp Lafayette, the landlord and his family, and for every one else who happened to be about, headed for the Staten Island Ferry, whence it was transferred by the steamer Kill von Kull direct to Amboy, New Jersey, where soon after our arrival, a train of baggage and emigrant cars backed down the track of the Camden and Amboy Railroad, and the regiment entrained promptly, and was soon en route for the capitol. We received some attention from the crowd, but now war is getting to be a regular business, and new regiments are leaving for the front every day, so we received the applause of only those who chanced to be in the neighborhood at the time. I felt very different to what I did in April. The regiment looked well, was fully armed, clothed and equipped, and officered, for the most part, by as fine a body of gentlemen as ever exchanged a civil for a military life. We were especially fortunate in having many officers thoroughly well up in tactics, and having in the ranks over a hundred old soldiers, who had served in the regular army of either the United States or Great Britain. All who know anything of the service will appreciate the advantage of having these old soldiers to instruct the recruits in the many details that can never be learned theoretically.

At eight A. M. November 13th we reached Philadelphia, the entire regiment leaving the train to partake of coffee and sandwiches in the immense sheds adjacent to the depot, contributed by the noble generosity of the ladies of that city. The coffee was good, and the sandwiches too, served by volunteers in the nicest manner. We learned that not to us alone was their bounty extended, but to every regiment passing through the city on the way to the front. How great an undertaking this was may be imagined, as night and day, one continuous and uninterrupted stream of troops flowed through the city for weeks and months.

As we marched out of the sheds back to the train, we gave a hearty cheer for our benefactors, and continued our journey, much improved in condition. After sundry mishaps and delay, we arrived late in Washington, on Thursday morning, the 14th, when we marched to Camp Wilder on the Bladensburg turnpike, a couple of miles out of town. Here we were assigned to a provisional brigade commanded by Brigadier-General Casey, of tactics fame, for the purpose of discipline and instruction, and settled down to solid, hard work, drilling by squads, company, battalion, and brigade, every fine day, while study and instruction in tactics, army regulations, military usages and administration took up most of the evenings; few leaves to visit town were granted, and so we made much progress in our new career.

While thus at work we found time to become au fait once again with the general situation of the war, which had been completely lost sight of, while organizing the regiment at home. The most conspicuous object that confronted us was the immense number of camps within sight, everywhere were regiments of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, all doing just what we were doing. The difference between the first collection of militia, and these troops was remarkable. The first army had that unmistakable summer militia encampment appearance, with its great variety of fancy uniforms, made for show and not for service. Familiarity of officers and men, and an utter lack of military bearing. The streets and hotels of Washington, in the early spring days, were filled with men in uniform, officers and enlisted men promiscuously together, all bent upon having a jolly time.

Everything is now changed to a sober, steady reality; few men or officers are granted leave; all wear the same uniform, and begin to look as though they had never worn anything else. Officers are not permitted, if they desire, to associate with enlisted men in public; not but what many of the enlisted men are the equals of many of the commissioned officers, but that discipline cannot be preserved, if the officer does not hold himself aloof.

Since the expiration of the three months’ regiment service, new troops have been pouring into this place daily, until they number now over one hundred and eighty thousand men, with two hundred and forty-eight guns. General McClellan succeeded General McDowell, and is in supreme command of the troops and the defences of Washington; and has already reduced this chaotic mass of men into something like an organization. Prior to his assumption of control, the troops occupying the defences of Washington had little or no relation to each other. Commanders of forts refused to obey any orders but those of the commander-in-chief. Colonels were independent, and of the troops holding the line of works surrounding the capitol, there was none to assume general charge. This dangerous state of things exists no longer; regiments are brigaded, and brigades formed into divisions, the tactical unit at present, and so are easily controlled and directed from the general headquarters.

The system of organization now requires all troops freshly arriving, to go into camps of instruction on this side of the river. Here they are inspected, and any deficiency in appointments and equipment made good, their instruction and discipline attended to, and as soon as they are thought to be efficient, they are sent across the Potomac and permanently assigned to brigades in the new army of the Potomac, where instruction in permanent camps, continues night and day, and where they have a chance to become acquainted with the commander, and the other regiments of the brigade.

It is not proposed to move until this army has become thoroughly drilled and disciplined, so whenever it does move, great things may be expected of it. It is a magnificent military school, where we can’t help but learn everything worth knowing in the art of war.

Amongst other things, the men of the regiments have to do all their own cooking, which is an entirely new experience for them. Every company details two or more men permanently for this duty, and it is expected they will soon be able to serve the men with palatable and well cooked food. The rations are liberal, and of sufficient variety to secure more than good health; abundance of good food tends to good morals and discipline, and so, from this point of view we are very lucky.

Occasionally some of the officers from the Virginia side come over to see us. They speak with enthusiasm of their canvas quarters and log huts, and say they are fast becoming a splendid army, everybody in the best of spirits, studying and working night and day, to make themselves as useful as possible.

The artillery service is receiving especial attention. At Bull Run I understand we had only nine batteries; to-day we have ninety-two batteries ready for service, thanks to the energy of General W. F. Barry, who is chief of artillery. The few engineers of the old army have been supplemented by two New York regiments, the Fifteenth and Twentieth, which as engineer troops are probably equal to any, as there is not a man in the ranks who is not a trained mechanic, and all the officers are engineers. A pontoon train and bridges are under construction, so that we shall be prepared for every emergency. General Stoneman is in command of the cavalry and that branch of the service is quite as active as the others. Most of these regiments come from the West, I notice, but there are a few from New York and Pennsylvania.

I got some idea while on this side of the river of the magnitude of the works, built and building, to protect the capital: the line is thirty-three miles in extent, completely enclosing the city. Many immense forts and enclosed redoubts are on the line, some of them beautifully finished; they are so formidable as a whole, there is little danger that they can ever be taken; the troops have built most of them, and are still at work, so the men are learning the art of fortification, as well as tactics. General Barnard is the chief engineer in charge of fortifications.

The prediction is made here that the army of the Potomac will be ready to take the field by January, but on account of the poor roads in Virginia, it is not likely that a movement will be made until early spring. If this is the case, and the army has the whole winter for instructions we shall be the equal of any regular army known. What a splendid opportunity it will be for McClellan, who is only thirty-four years old, with immortality almost within his grasp: we are led to believe he is a great man, but most of us discount the ridiculous panegyrics that the daily papers are loaded up with every day. Outside of the fact that the general is an excellent organizer, nothing else is known of his abilities in the field, as he has never had any experience on such a scale, and cannot know himself what he will do. That he will have a formidable, well drilled, disciplined, and willing army, is certain. All else, the future alone can determine. The general is a graduate of the military academy, was a lieutenant of engineers, and served as such in the Mexican War, 1846-47. He was in the Crimea in 1855, observing the operation of the Siege of Sebastopol, on the part of the United States. More recently, he has been engaged in civil life as a railroad man, until the opening of the rebellion. He is rather small, but solid, and seems to have plenty of good sense. He has the good will of the whole country, and a glorius opportunity for writing his name indelibly on the pages of his country’s history.

July 25th. Nearly all the men are back again to-night, and military duty is to be resumed to-morrow, but our three months have expired, and we are ordered back to New York to be mustered out of service. The President has called for three hundred thousand men to serve for three years, or the war. The country is just beginning to realize the magnitude of the undertaking, and the first thing it is going to do is to organize a regular army, which will last at least for three years. Our views of war are somewhat modified by the past three months’ experience, but I am determined to return, and under more favorable conditions, try to find that exaltation and glory that I have always associated with arms.

We shall go home and refit for a long period, organize and discipline an army, and when officers and men have learned to adjust themselves to their new positions, and know each other and their duties thoroughly, then commence afresh, and go on to victory, or sustain defeat with dignity. The cause is just as great to-day as it was the day we left New York, and, while we have been temporarily overthrown, there is no cause for despondency. We shall as certainly win in the end, as though we had never seen, or heard, of the disastrous battle of Bull Run.

For myself, I have served in the ranks for the last time; and shall go home and apply at once for a commission in some of the regiments now forming to serve for three years or the war, which will be more to my taste than serving in the ranks.

July 19th and 20th.—Nothing worthy of especial mention the last two days; reports say the rebels are seventy thousand strong, with ten thousand additional men near at hand, strongly posted behind the run, with all commanding points well fortified. We have made many reconnoisances and find the enemy’s position in front and left too strong for direct attack and so the plan now is to move the bulk of the army, under cover of the thick woods, to the right, and attack in earnest; in the mean time, making demonstrations directly in front, and on the left, with force enough to take advantage of any weakness that may be discovered. All the preliminary arrangements are made, and we are entirely prepared. Saturday night taps sounded as usual at nine o’clock and we all tucked ourselves under the blankets and lay down for a good night’s sleep; we had hardly got comfortably fixed, when we were ordered to get up and fall in silently. We got up wondering what was the occasion of this nocturnal disturbance, but quietly rolled and slung our blankets, fell into line, and answered to the roll call. We were ready to start by twelve o’clock but those ahead of us did not get out of our way till nearly two o’clock, so we sat down in the ranks and waited our turn. It was a brilliant moonlight night, and we could see the long line of flashing bayonets filing off to the right, looking like an immense silver sea serpent. From Centreville to Fairfax court house, all the troops were in motion, and where an hour before everything was quiet and still, now the ground trembled with the tramp of armed men, and innumerable horses. We stepped out promptly at last, glad to be in motion,; taking the Warrington road through Centreville, we marched some distance, then turned off to the northward, on a wood road, and were hid from view by the dark, gloomy shadows of a pine forest. Everyone knew the object of the movement, and was anxious to get well in rear of the rebel left before daylight, and take him by surprise. For nearly three hours, our march lay through the dark pines; finally about break of day, we emerged into open fields, and saw away off to the front and right the Bull Run and Blue Ridge mountains, with pleasant fields, and shady woods, laying quietly at their feet. It was so still and peaceful that it was hard to believe this beautiful Sunday morning we were going to fight a battle.

We halted now awhile, giving the stragglers a chance to come up, and all of us a much needed rest, as we were very much fatigued, besides being hungry, and longed to make some coffee, but the orders were imperative, no fires! no noise! very shortly, several shots were fired directly in our front, the bugles sounded the assembly and we fell in; the First and Second Rhode Island regiments were deployed in line of battle, and with a regiment of regular cavalry out as flankers, and several companies of infantry deployed as skirmishers in front advanced in the direction of the firing, we following in column, well closed up, a short distance in rear, a battery moving immediately in our front. The stately and well ordered advance to our first battle was most impressive. Not a word was spoken, every man busy with his own emotions and trying to do his duty.

(April to the middle of July)

Arrangements were made to quarter the regiment in the various sail lofts and store-houses. Double bunks, three tiers high, built to hold two men each, filled the room, with numerous narrow passages running between them. My company was assigned the upper floor of the first store room to the left, on entering. Company A and the band having the ground floor. In one corner of our room was a little partition, separating the company officers. The place was commodious enough, and kept scrupulously clean. I was given an upper front berth, in company with a young fellow from New Jersey named Dodd, and together we passed three months as bedfellows on the best of terms. He was bright, intelligent, and proved a pleasant companion.

This yard is a most delightful spot, particularly at this season of the year. It is entirely enclosed with a high brick wall, having a fine entrance, ornamented with anchors, cannons, and other naval devices. A beautiful, well shaded avenue runs from the entrance to the water, flanked by pretty grass plots; at many of the angles are picturesque arrangements of cannon balls, curious old cannons, etc. Around the top wall are perched little sentry boxes within sight of each other and hailing distance; in them our regiment performs most of its duty, and of a fine moonlight night, the sentries pacing up and down the walls, peering into the dark shadows of the outside world, seemed very romantic. Every time the clock strikes after dark, the sentinels call off the hours, adding in a singing voice, “and all’s well!” These calls are repeated throughout the entire circuit of the wall; if there is any interruption, the sergeant of the guard is soon on hand to know the reason why. On Friday, May 3d, in the afternoon, we were paraded for review by General McDowell, Inspector General, U. S. A., and after the drill, were mustered into the United States service in our company quarters; having now become United States troops, we settled down to regular garrison routine, drilling assiduously, two hours every morning and every afternoon, occasionally firing at targets with ball cartridges. This part of the duty we liked, and averaged very fair shooting, although we were obliged to fire with bayonets fixed, which made the musket too heavy for me to hold steady enough for good shooting. Every evening at five o’clock, we fell in for dress parade on the main avenue, which became the fashion for the aristocrats of the city, and scores of fine ladies drove to the yard every evening, to see the parade and listen to the superb music of Dodworth’s band. The regiment, after it received its uniforms, made a fine appearance, drilled with great precision, and had the reputation of being a swell affair; this gave it great importance in the eyes of society people. It is in fact, a regiment mostly of very fine looking young fellows.

Our food is cooked by men employed for that purpose, so we have none but strictly military duties to perform; of course we wash our own clothes, and at first found it rather hard work to get our flannel shirts clean in cold water, but outside of this, and keeping our own quarters well swept, we do no police duty, that being done by marines on duty in the yard. By degrees we became initiated into the mysteries of a soldier’s life. Reveille sounds at daybreak, when all hands turn out, dress themselves, and fall in for roll call; this over, we put our quarters in order, then go to the hydrants in the street and perform our morning ablutions, stripped to the waist, dousing ourselves liberally with cold water, subsequently adjusting, with nice accuracy, our fresh paper collars. At seven A. M. we fall in for breakfast in one rank, march to the kitchen, and through a window receive a cup of coffee, and large slice of bread; we have the same for tea, but dinner is varied — salt pork, fresh beef, corned beef in daily rotation, with abundance of bean soup — constitutes this meal. We sit around on the curbstones to eat, and generally a great many fashionable people remain after the parade to see us dispose of our evening meal.

There is plenty of sport, fencing, leaping, running, and forever playing tricks on each other. In the evening we lie in our bunks (having no chairs or benches) and read or write, a candle stuck in the socket of a bayonet, jammed in the side of the bunk, furnishing the necessary light. Tattoo at half past eight, and taps at nine, when every light must go out, without exception. If there are any delinquents, a shower of boots, shoes, or other handy material, whizzes around their candle in the twinkling of an eye, accompanied with loud and continuous yells of “douse the glint.” The great diversion, however, is the correspondence. Everybody at home wants to hear from us, and we like to receive letters, so there is an immense amount of letter writing. Good-natured congressmen frank them for us, so it costs nothing except for stationery. This is generally highly ornamented with warlike and patriotic pictures in various colors, really very curious and interesting. One of our men, a former employee of the Post Office Department, is detailed as postmaster, and his duty is anything but a sinecure. Very free criticism of affairs military is one of our prerogatives, and the people at home get many weighty opinions on the conduct of the war; as for our ability to furnish any real information, truth obliges me to say we have to seek all our news at present from the New York papers. One of the pleasant incidents of this rather monotonous life, is the occasional detail of men to serve on board the “Anaconda,” a small war steamer that patrols the Potomac; the detail usually amounts to about a dozen men and extraordinary efforts are made to be one of the party. The boat frequently wakes up the rebel batteries about Acquia creek, and along the Virginia shore, but is principally occupied in preventing smuggling across the river. The boys come back enthusiastic over their adventures afloat, and anxious for another detail. To show what the naval people think of us, I copy the following letter addressed to our commanding officer.

United States Ship Anaconda, June 2d, 1861.

Sir:

I have great pleasure in informing you of the excellent character and conduct of the detachment of the Seventy-First Regiment, ,C°mPany C, serving on this vessel. They have my warmest thanks for their assistance in working our guns at Acquia creek; as gentlemen, soldiers, or boatmen, they do honor to their regiment. Signed,

N. Collins,

Lieutenant, Commanding.

One afternoon the President sent word that he desired to inspect and review the regiment. The next day he came, attended by several people of distinction, and passed through every company’s quarters in the yard; we were all drawn up within our own rooms, and the President passed in front of us, shaking hands with every man. Afterwards we fell in for parade, and passed in review in full marching order. He paid us several compliments, and we cheered him lustily as he rode away. Mr. Lincoln has a strange, weird, and melancholy face, which fascinates you at first sight; he seemed overwhelmed with responsibility, and looked very tired.

On the 20th of May Colonel Vosburg died of an hemorrhage, and was buried with distinguished honors. The President, Secretary Seward, half a dozen batteries, and several regiments of infantry assisting in making a very solemn and distinguished funeral. Lieutenant Colonel Martin succeeded to the command of the regiment. He is a fine, soldierly looking man, and said to be a good officer, but is apparently not much known.

Since our arrival, Washington has become an immense fortress; the streets are crowded with men in an endless variety of uniforms, and all the public buildings are more or less, turned into temporary barracks. The capitol itself is full of men, some of them terrible looking fellows, especially, the New York Fire Zouaves in their red breeches and singular dress. They are certainly a hard looking crowd, and are commanded by young Ellsworth, of fancy drill renown. They are in the rotunda, while several other regiments, are in the wings and basement. The city is being completely surrounded by a complicated and strong system of earth works, upon which heavy details from the regiments, are at work night and day; several immense forts are already fully constructed.

On the 23d of May, our regiment, in company with several others, were put on transports and sent to occupy Alexandria, until this time left in the hands of the enemy. The rebels abandoned the place at our approach, and we took possession without opposition; shortly after we landed, Colonel Ellsworth, commanding the Fire Zouaves, observing a rebel flag flying from the Marshall House, went into the hotel, ran upstairs, and hauled it down; as he was descending, with the flag in his hand, the landlord, one J. W. Jackson, met him on the stairs, armed with a shot gun, and shot him dead, Frances E. Brownell, a private in the Fire Zouaves, close at hand, instantly leveled his rifle, and shot the traitor dead, and so the young ambitious colonel was instantly revenged, and the rebel citizens taught a wholesome lesson.

This dramatic event caused great excitement, and the utmost sorrow, as great things were expected of Ellsworth. As soon as possible the colonel’s body, wrapped in an American flag, was transferred to the Navy Yard, where it lay in the engine house, and was viewed by thousands of people; so great was the interest in the young man and the tragical event, that the President himself drove down to the yard, soon after the body was deposited there, and seemed greatly affected. Two days afterwards he caused his remains to be transferred to the White House, where they lay in state and were viewed by immense throngs of people. His funeral, like that of Vosburg, was out of all proportion to his rank, but this is the very beginning of hostilities, and colonels seem to be of much importance.

About the 1st of July the troops were brigaded on the Virginia side of the river, and formed into an army, commanded by General McDowell. On the 15th of July we received orders to cross the Potomac the following day, carrying three days’ cooked rations; we marched out, about one o’clock from the yard, very cheerfully, and crossed the long bridge into Old Virginia, singing lustily, “Away Down South in Dixie,” and went into bivouac near Annandale, a distance of eight or nine miles. Here were gathered together an immense body of men, being organized into an army. Our regiment was brigaded under Colonel Burnside, with the First and Second Rhode Island regiments, and the Second New Hampshire. We had no tents or shelter of any kind, only one blanket to cover us, and what was worse than all, no old soldiers to teach us the simple tricks of campaigning comfortably. In the Navy Yard we slept on the bare boards, but that soon became easy for us; now with no boards, and no shelter when it rains, we shall be in a pretty pickle. I once wondered, I remember, what kind of beds we should have in the army; by degrees, I am finding that out, as well as some other things.

In the evening our enthusiasm burst out anew, when we saw the countless camp fires, extending in every direction as far as the eye could reach. Here around us was a veritable army, with banners, opening to our imagination, a glimpse of the glorious pomp, and circumstance of war. Later on, the music of the bands came floating over the gentle summer breeze, while the increasing darkness brought into more distinct relief the shadowy groups of soldiers sitting around the fires, or moving between the long lines of picturesquely stacked arms. At intervals were batteries of artillery, their horses tethered amongst the guns, while in rear of all, just discernible by the white canvas coverings, were wagons enough apparently, to supply the combined armies of the world.

At nine o’clock tattoo was sounded by thousands of drums and fifes, and shortly afterwards the men were mostly asleep. A young fellow named Kline (Dodd having remained in the yard on the sick list) and I slept together, and shared each other’s fortunes; we spread my rubber and woolen blankets on the ground, covering ourselves with his blankets, and without other protection from the weather slept our first sleep in the open air, with the new army of Virginia; we lay for a long time gazing at the starry heavens before we slept, our stony pillows not fitting as well as those we had been used to, but at last we slept, and only awoke at the beating of the drums for reveille.

We turned out promptly, feeling pretty stiff, hair saturated with the heavy dew and generally shaky, but after a good wash at a running brook near by, and a bountiful supply of muddy coffee, were as bright and active as ever. This morning we got many particulars of the approaching campaign; it seems we are to move forward to Centreville, where the rebel army is in position; attack, and if possibly, destroy it, and so end the rebellion. We formed column, and marched soon after breakfast, with bands playing, and colors flying, in a happy frame of mind, without a thought of danger or failure. Nothing barred our progress until we approached Fairfax Court House. Here we found the roads blockaded by felled trees, and it required considerable time to remove the obstructions; shortly afterwards our advance guard exchanged shots with the enemy’s mounted videttes, and a strong line of skirmishers was thrown out, which soon cleared the way and we entered the town in great spirits, the rebels retiring as we advanced, leaving behind them a good many stores, and their flag flying from a pole in front of the court house; it was a blue cross on a red ground, with white stars on the bars. Our men quickly hauled it down and ran up the Stars and Stripes amidst vociferous cheering. The place is a wretchedly dirty, straggling little village, now almost deserted; all the men, and most of the well to do women gone, the best houses generally being deserted. Many of the women stood in the doorways watching us march past, and I am sure, I never saw so many poor, ill fed, dirty looking creatures in my life before. They are what they call poor whites here, and seem hopelessly tired out; they acted ugly, evidently considering us enemies. I fear they had cause subsequently, as many of our men acted like barbarians. We halted, stacked arms, and rested in the main street of the village. As soon as ranks were broken, the men made a dash for the large houses, plundering them right and left; what they could not carry away, in many cases, they destroyed; pianos were demolished, pictures cut from their frames, wardrobes ransacked, and most of the furniture carried out into the street. Soon the men appeared wearing tall hats, women’s bonnets, dresses, etc., loaded down with plunder which they proceeded to examine and distribute, sitting on sofas, rocking chairs, etc., in the middle of the dusty street. What was not considered portable, or worth keeping, was smashed and destroyed; in this general sack the deserted houses came in for most attention, few of those having any one in charge being molested, and I did not hear of any personal indignities. It seemed strange to me the men desired mementoes of something we did not have to fight for, and I took no part or interest in the business. This was Fairfax’s first taste of war at the hands of the enemy, and it must have been decidedly bitter.

We went into bivouac just in front of the town, with headquarters in the village. It seemed as though we had men enough in the encampment to overrun the whole world. If it were not for the numerous trains of wagons needed to supply us, how quickly we could finish up this war. This second bivouac was in all respects similar to the first.

It is reported that General Beauregard, commanding the rebel army, has taken a position just beyond Centreville, and is awaiting our approach, intending to give battle; also that they are strongly intrenched behind breast works and rifle pits.

We are told too, that the woods are full of masked batteries, commanding the roads over which we must march, and it looks now as though we should have some severe fighting in a few hours’ time. It does not yet seem really like war, and it is hard to believe we shall actually have a battle, I suppose one good action will enable us to realize the requirements necessary to make a good soldier, and prove our usefulness, or otherwise, as nothing else will; I hope we may prove equal to the emergency.

Reveille the next morning sounded at daybreak, and soon afterwards we were enroute for Centreville, distant about eight miles; the day was very hot and there was much straggling, many of the men proving poor walkers; at intervals we halted to give time for the advance guard to properly reconnoiter, and also to rest the men, so that we did not arrive in front of our objective point till 1 P. M.; one trouble was the complete blockade of the road by wagons and artillery, obliging the infantry to take to the fields on either side of them, this causing much delay. I was in good condition, and did not mind the fatigue at all. Arriving at Centreville we found no enemy, but a little squalid, wretched place, situated on rising ground overlooking a good deal of the surrounding country. The column turned out to the right and left, forming a line of battle facing almost west, stacked arms, and lay down to await developments. Three regiments of infantry were shortly afterwards sent ahead to reconnoiter, and about a mile in front commenced exchanging shots at long range with the enemy’s pickets; as they advanced, they brought on quite a little fight, in which some of the rebel batteries joined for the first time. We saw the white puffs from the cannon, and watched with breathless interest this first evidence of actual hostilities. Presently an aide came back for reinforcements, and two other regiments were ordered to advance, but had hardly started, when General McDowell coming on the ground, ordered the advance to be discontinued for the present, and the troops withdrawn. We had four men killed outright, and several wounded in this first baptism of fire, which of course, produced great excitement, in the rear, especially when the ambulance with the wounded came in. We knew now there was more to be done than simply marching, and bivouacking, and began to feel a little curious, but still equal to the task, and sure of giving a good account of ourselves. We remained in position the rest of the day and night, watching during the evening the long lines of dust far away to the right and front, which is said to indicate the arrival of reinforcements for the enemy.

This morning we hear the rebel army is posted in a commanding position along the Bull Run stream, deep in many places, but having numerous fords. The rebel general, Johnson, has joined from Winchester, which explains the long dusty lines seen last evening. General McDowell, it is said, intends resting our army for a day or two here, in the mean time ascertaining the exact position of the rebels; we are not at all in need of rest, and I don’t see why we cannot go right ahead, but I suppose it is none of our business to speculate on the conduct of affairs. The wagons are now separately parked, so is the artillery, and the infantry placed so that the color line instantly becomes a line of battle in case of necessity. If the rebs would only come and attack us, how we should warm them.