The morning after the battle of Winchester the command was temporarily attached to the brigade of General George H. Steuart (composed of Virginians and North Carolinians,) of Edward Johnson’s division, and shortly after the whole ofEwell’s corps took up its line of March in the direction of Smithfield, where we arrived about dark, and went into camp for the night.
The next morning we resumed the march, our course shaped towards the Potomac, which there seemed but little doubt we were destined to cross, but with what object in view we had not the slightest conception. We crossed the Baltimore and Ohio railroad at Kearneysville, and then took the road leading to Shepherdstown. The day was intensely hot and the troops marched leisurely. By midday we went into camp about three miles from the river that separated us from our own beloved Maryland, and which we cherished a fond hope of crossing on the morrow.
It was whilst we lay here that I took advantage of the time afforded to pay a visit to the estimable family of the Hon. Alexander H. Boteler, whose beautiful residence was but a mile from our camp. I found Mrs. Boteler at home with her two accomplished and attractive daughters, and they vied with each other in their endeavors to make my visit an agreeable one.
Mrs. Boteler informed me that they had been subjected to all sorts of annoyances from the Yankee soldiery, and taking me to her chamber pointed out a bullet hole through a pane of glass in the window which had been fired by a thing in uniform whilst she was looking out into the yard, the ball passing through her hair and lodging in the ceiling.
It was late in the evening, and with many regrets, that I left this lovely family and their little paradise, and wended my way back to camp. Alas, all that is now left of that once sweet, happy home is a mass of ruins, for the brutal and relentless Hunter visited it soon afterwards and burnt it to the ground.
On the afternoon of the 18th of June we broke camp and moved up the road leading to Shepherdstown, through which village we passed amid the joyous shouts of the inhabitants, and were in a few minutes upon the banks of the Potomac, into which the men plunged waist deep, and began make their way to the longed-for shore. I wished I possessed the pencil of the artist to paint that scene, for it was one that will never be forgotten by those who witnessed it.
Upon reaching the Maryland shore the joy of her exiled sons baffled description. They shouted and screamed, and rolled upon the ground in the delirium of their joy, and to one not acquainted with the cause it would have seemed as though bedlam had been let loose, and in this Pandemonium I must confess our gallant brigade and battalion commanders played a conspicuous part, leaving out others of minor rank.
That night we encamped upon the banks of the river, and next morning passed through the town of Sharpsburg and halted upon the famous battle field.
After remaining in camp here three or four days,we moved on towards Hagerstown, which place we passed through, and encamped a short distance beyond.
By many of the citizens of Hagerstown we were heartily received; others again scowled fiercely upon us, and no doubt wished every rebel son of us to the devil.
On the morning of the 23d of June we left our camp near Hagerstown, and crossed the Pennsylvania line, and passed through Greencastle, where Steuart’s brigade was detached from the division and ordered to proceed to Chambersburg by way of Mercersburg, McConnelsburg, &c., and we arrived on the evening of the 26th without an incident worth mentioning.
After crossing the Pennsylvania line, the most prejudiced observer could not help being struck with the perfect discipline that pervaded the entire army. There was not a single straggler to be seen upon the road, for under no circumstances was a man suffered to leave the ranks, except when at a halt, which was ten minutes in every hour, and then he was limited to one hundred yards from his command. There was no running about the country pillaging and robbing and burning; no defenceless women insulted and outraged, as had been the case hundreds of times in our own country when invaded by the hireling hordes of Yankeedom. Oh, no, the army of Gen. Lee was composed of different material and was commanded by a Christian soldier, who held suchhellish acts, and the instigators of them, in abhorrence.
On the morning of the 27th we passed through Chambersburg and took the turnpike to Carlisle, and on the afternoon of the 28th of June the worn and wearied division went into camp a short distance to the right of the road, and about three miles distant from that town. The day had been excessively warm, and our march a long and tedious one, but stimulated with the hope of soon having in our possession the capitol of the great Keystone State, and proud to know we were invading the enemy’s country, not a complaint was heard nor a straggler to be found.
The order to “break ranks” had been obeyed with alacrity; and as the dusk of evening came on hundreds of fires could be seen throughout the woods at which the hungry troops were busily engaged cooking their meat and boiling their coffee. A night of refreshing sleep followed the repast, and at reveille every man was promptly at his post, and prepared, nay impatient, to resume the march to Harrisburg, which town we cherished the fond hope of reaching that day.
But hour after hour sped by and no order to “pack up” was given. What could it mean? For days we had taken up the line of march at sunrise. Twelve o’clock, and no order. One, two, three o’clock, and an aid was observed to dash up to brigade headquarters, and in a few minutes the welcomecommand to “fall in” was heard throughout the vast encampment.
All was bustle and excitement, and many were the speculations indulged in by both officers and men, as the companies formed, as to the cause of our delay and our probable destination that day.
“It is my impression,” observed one, “we will go no farther than Carlisle, where Rhodes is encamped, join him, and make the attack upon Crouch’s forces about midday to-morrow.”
“There is where you are mistaken,” was the reply of a comrade. “You see the different corps and divisions have been marching on converging roads. Well, we are almost up with Rhodes, and our delay of a day was evidently occasioned by Ewell’s being ahead of time. Now mark me, we will make a forced march to-night and begin the attack at daybreak in the morning. General Lee can spare no more time, in my humble opinion. Already he has lost too much, and the next thing we know, Hooker will be at our heels, and between him and Crouch we will have a devil of a hot time of it.”
Entertaining such opinions pretty generally, great was the surprise of all to observe the head of the column, upon reaching the turnpike, file abruptly to the left instead of the right, and we found ourselves retracing the steps of the day before.
Disappointment and chagrin was depicted in every countenance as we silently wended our wearyway. The boisterous, merry shout of the past few days was no longer to be heard; and the troops did not move with that elasticity of step in the retreat (as we termed it) which had characterized their advance, for officers and men had alike become impressed with the belief that some disaster had befallen us, and we were a second time to recross the Potomac.
After a march of twelve miles the command went intobivouacnear the village of Springfield. The evening’s meal was moodily discussed, and all went sulkily to sleep.
The reveille of the following morning was not as cheerfully responded to as before; and shortly after taking up our line of march the barefooted (and there were hundreds of them) who, with cracked and bleeding feet had borne the advance march so cheerfully, now began to murmur and complain.
During the day’s march we met about two hundred paroled Federal soldiers who had been captured a day or two before by General J. E. B. Stuart’s cavalry, and ordered to proceed to Carlisle. They were hundred days men, called out by the Governor of Pennsylvania, to repel the invaders of their sacred soil, and had been but a few days in the field. As they passed our bronzed and weather-beaten gray jackets the contrast was striking indeed. The one clothed in new and well-fitting uniforms, the other in rags, and shoeless. Many were the wistful glances directed at their well-casedfeet by Steuart’s men, but they passed us without molestation. Not so, however, with the Stonewall Brigade, which was immediately in our wake. The temptation was too great for their commander, General Walker, to resist, and halting the young heroes of a single skirmish, he addressed them pretty much as follows:
“I would judge from your appearance, young gentlemen, you have not been long in the service, and while we have been blistering our feet on your devilish turnpikes, you have been enjoying the pleasures and comforts of home. Your term of service has now expired; return there and remain, for I tell you soldiering is both a disagreeable and a precarious occupation. But before you go—and you have but a short distance ere you meet your friends, and we, God knows, how far without meeting one—I think it but fair we should make an exchange in the way of boots. What say you?”
A hearty burst of laughter was the response at, to them, so novel an idea, and in an instant every pair of shoes was “shed” in army parlance, and tendered to our barefooted soldiers.
It was quite amusing to see the poor fellows move off, picking their way daintily over the rough and uneven turnpike; and from the gait we left them “advancing on Carlisle,” I much question whether they reached their destination inside of several days.
Another incident similar in its character occurredan hour or two after in the Second Maryland. A gallant young non-commissioned officer of Captain William H. Murray’s company, came to me and presented for my inspection whathadbeen a pair of shoes, but were now minus the soles. His feet were in a shocking condition, and he expressed a fear that he would be unable to proceed much farther, unless I could supply him, or grant him permission to “forage” for a pair. Being curious to see how he would proceed about it, “I spreck nottings mit mine mouf, but I spreck like ter tivel mit mine looks,” as the Dutchman would say; and going upon the old adage that “silence gives consent,” the Sergeant quietly resumed his place in the ranks. But a little while elapsed, however, before I observed him gradually fall to the rear of the column; and as he neared me, he pointed significantly to a fat old farmer who was lazily leaning on a gate-post, intently watching the passage of the troops. I aver I did not wink at the Sergeant, but he afterwards persistently maintained that I did. Be that as it may he stepped up to the old fellow, and bantered him for a trade. Now the Dutchman could scarcely speak a word of English, and the Sergeant not a word of Dutch and after vainly endeavoring to make him understand his Saxon, had no alternative but to tradesans ceremoni. So, throwing off his “uppers,” he in the most artistic manner stooped down raised one foot, and in an instant the Teuton stood “one boot off and one boot on.” The fellow followed,the Pennsylvanian never moving a muscle or budging an inch, but watching the strange proceeding in utter amazement. After admiring the “fit” for a moment, the audacious rebel politely bid the old gentleman “good day,” and rejoined his command, congratulating himself no doubt upon the excellent exchange he had made. As we passed out of sight I turned in my saddle and cast a look behind. There he still stood, gazing after us, as if transfixed to the spot, and no doubt soliloquizing, “Ven tat tam fellow prings mine poots pack.”