LXXXVIII
Headquarters Berry’s Division,Near Falmouth, Va.,
Headquarters Berry’s Division,Near Falmouth, Va.,
Headquarters Berry’s Division,Near Falmouth, Va.,
Headquarters Berry’s Division,
Near Falmouth, Va.,
February 23, 1863.
February 23, 1863.
February 23, 1863.
February 23, 1863.
A WEEKago or so, the story was afloat that the regiment was going home right away, “and no mistake.” Col. Marston had been down here, and had the consent of the President, the Secretary of War, and General Hooker, and we were sure to go. All the officers took stock in the story, and I did really hope that by next Saturday we might be in Manchester. But even now the hopesof going have died out and the excitement subsided. Such stories have been let loose every two or three weeks as regular as clockwork.
You would have screamed if you could have seen the ridiculous sleighride I did today. It was a lark of the General’s staff officers. They had a set of sleigh-runners made and a wagon body mounted on them. The sleighing would not have been called sleighing at all up in New Hampshire. But they started out, with one lady in the party, tipped over twice, and then went to smash entirely.
Ed. Bailey’s commission as Lieutenant-Colonel has come. His court martial is ended, and whatever the findings he is returned to duty. Frank Wasley is now Sergeant-Major. One of the boys saw my box at the landing yesterday. There are several inches of snow on the ground, which fell yesterday; but it is warm today and the snow will not last long.
Wednesday.—I have been busy the past two days. Yesterday my patience about gave out. We had two choppers out in the woods, and along in the afternoon I was sent out with teams and a squad of men to gather up and bring in the wood they had down. Before we got to the woods we met one of the choppers, who told me there was no need to go any farther, as there was no wood cut; that they would not allow him to chop anywhere, as the trees were wanted to build corduroy roads with. Of course I turned around and went back—a distance of two miles. We had not been in camp fifteen minutes before the other chopper came in and said he had been chopping all day and had lots of wood down. The first chopper had not been out at all, but had been having a glorious drunk, and told me the story he did to get himself out of a scrape. Of course we had to go out again—and of all the times! It looked sometimes as if we never would get out of the woods. The teams got stuck, and chains broke. There was an apology for a road, but its main features were stumps, roots and bog holes. Nothing but an army wagon could ever have stood the strain, and nothing but a team of army mules, guided by army mule drivers, would ever have attempted to get in and out of that place. But we got our wood, and were back at headquarters, tired but triumphant, about eight o’clock in the evening.
Captain Gordon told me, yesterday, that Colonel Marston had declined his Brigadiership and was coming back to take command of the regiment, much to Bailey’s disappointment.
George Lawrence is expecting a furlough to come along tomorrow, and he says: “Finish a long letter and I will carry it as far as Lawrence for you.” But I guess it will go as quickly by mail.