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.
_______
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.
