March 10th, 1862.—Well, the Army of the Potomac is at last in motion. After having lain still with 150,000 men, comparatively idle, for nearly eight months, our National Capital besieged, its great thoroughfare blockaded by a foe of which we have habitually spoken with contempt, the Van Winkle-ish sleep is apparently broken, and we are at last in motion.
We left Camp Griffin at 4 o’clock this A.M, and now—1 P.M., are bivouacked in sight of Fairfax Court House. Freedom Hill, Vienna, Flint Hill, all passed, and we have met no enemy. We are within eight miles of Centreville, and are receiving reports that the place is already in our possession. There is nothing authentic, but we shall know to-night. We are within ten miles of the famous Bull Run battle field, within fifteen of Manassas. Ho! for Richmond!
We have had a most unpleasant march to-day. Rain, rain, mud, mud. The men have suffered much, and many have fallen out of the ranks. I have received another official reprimand to-day, and still another. I suppose I deserved them. Only last night I wrote a letter to _____, in which I expressed my joy that I had at last come to the determination that feelings of humanity should not again enter into any of my plans or conduct during the war—that I should now take the “Army Regulations” as my guide. They recognize no benevolence, no affection. Commands and obedience are all they know, and I left camp this morning firmly resolved that these alone should govern me in the future. Five miles from camp I overtook a poor, weakly little fellow who had fallen out of the ranks. He had unpacked his knapsack and thrown away his clothes, to enable him to keep up. My resolution of three hours’ ago was all forgotten. I had his knapsack repacked, carried it for him till I overtook an ambulance and put it in. Captain _____, one of the General’s staff, saw me put it into the ambulance, and I “caught it.” This reminded me of my resolve, and I renewed it. I pushed forward, and overtaking the regiment I found F. staggering under his load of knapsack, arms and accoutrements. Poor F., the pale boy, who had been my assistant since I joined the army, but now, through the arbitrary vindictiveness of a little military despot, reduced to the ranks; could I leave him stuck in the mud and in the enemy’s country? I forgot again! Shouldered his gun and knapsack, took his place in the ranks, and mounted him on my horse to rest. I confess it was not very dignified to see a Surgeon—a staff officer—and at this time accidentally on the General’s staff,[1] wading through the mud, with knapsack and musket, whilst a soldier was riding. ‘”Twas derogatory to the staff.” So to the usual reprimand, the polite military addendum of “d__mn_d fool” was this time appended. Well, a man who will so often forget his good resolutions, deserves it, and I will try not to forget again, so far as to permit my kind feelings to derogate from the dignity of my commander’s staff.
Report of the evacuation of Manassas is confirmed. We got news of a terrible naval battle in the James River. Congress and Cumberland lost! Merrimac disabled! But today we have Fairfax, Centreville Manassas and Ocoquan; that pays for the work of the Merrimac.
[1] I was acting as Brigade Surgeon.
