THESECOND MARYLAND INFANTRY.
It was towards the close of October, 1862, that the author made his way to Richmond, scarcely convalescent from severe injuries received in the second battle of Manassas. I reached that city in anything but a comfortable frame of mind, for I was out of the army owing to the disbanding of the First Maryland, and my finances had run down to the last five dollars. However, hoping something would turn up, I registered my name at the Linwood, and determined to quietly await the course of events.
The city was filled with officers in gay uniforms, some just from the front, some who had never been there, and never intended to go, others convalescing from sickness or wounds, &c., &c. Altogether Richmond presented a gay scene, and I thought I could spend a few days there as pleasantly as elsewhere. But I had no alternative, for it was out of the questionfor me to yet think of carrying a musket in the field.
A few days after my arrival, while walking up Main street with a friend, I was approached by an officer in a handsome uniform and handed a large sealed envelope stamped “official business.” Judge my surprise when upon opening it I found a commission as First Lieutenant of infantry in the Provisional Army of the Confederate States, with orders to report to Colonel Shields at the Camp of Instruction. This was a windfall, indeed, and with all my heart I thanked the kind friend who had taken so much interest in my behalf.
Some funds were now to be raised on the strength of the commission to pay board bills, etc., and I therefore directed my steps to the office of dear, good old Major John Ambler, paymaster, upon whom I had more than once before called when in trouble—and what Marylander had not. They were his especial favorites, and he would rather pay them at the beginning than at the end of every month.
This little necessary piece of business attended to, I proceeded to rub up my uniform preparatory to paying my respects to Colonel Shields, at Camp Lee. I found the Colonel a very pleasant gentleman, who received me most cordially, and upon presenting my papers I was assigned to my quarters with orders to report next morning, when I would receive instructions.
In the morning I was on time. With a blandsmile the Colonel informed me that my duties would be confined to superintending guard-mounting, instructing the sentinels in their duties, and to organizing into squads, to drill as many as possible of the several thousand conscripts in camp.
I must confess this was putting it upon a sick man pretty heavy, but I determined to do the best I could for the present. Upon inquiring if I had any assistants, I was told, “yes, Captain, Frank Schaffer, but he isn’t here much.”
I had never met Schaffer, but knew who he was, so I started out to hunt him up. I soon found him, and reported my orders. He laughed, and told me not to trouble myself much about the conscripts, “unless,” said he, “you want to be driven as crazy as a March hare.”
I soon found that he was right, for of all the mean, filthy, ignorant, God-forsaken people it had ever been my lot to encounter, these conscripts exceeded all. You might drill them for hours without making the least impression, and when at last exhausted patience would draw forth language rather strong and unmilitary, you were sure to hear something like “I don’t know nuthin ’bout soldiern, nor darned ef I keer ’bout larnen, and jist say I might go home, mister, an’ I’m off.”
I soon found it utterly impossible to do anything with them, and took the responsibility of directing my attention to the lighter duty of mounting guard, for I knew the commandant would never be thewiser, as he seldom came out of his office except to go home. As to looking after the camp it was something he never thought of; indeed, never having had any experience as a soldier, he scarcely knew one end of a musket from the other.
My guard was composed of this conscript material too, and a pretty guard it was. They thought nothing of smoking their pipes when on duty, or halloaing to their companions at a distance; they would carry their muskets in all sorts of fashions, but generally dragging it by the bayonet, and as to keeping them on post when they felt hungry, that was out of the question, although I punished many of them severely for this breach of discipline.
One day I was making one of my usual rounds, when I espied a sentinel in front of the officer of the day’s tent resting his arm and chin upon the muzzle of his gun. When I approached he never moved, but began to whistle a lively tune. I stopped directly in front of him and asked “what he was doing there?”
“Wall, not much of anything,” he replied, “looking after that ar feller’s things back thar, I believe,” at the same time kicking back towards the officer’s tent, and still in the same attitude.
“Come,” said I, “straighten yourself up; have you never been taught to salute your officers when they approach?”
“No I haven’t, and I don’t keer much about larnin,” was his reply; “say, mister, what did that thar rig cost you’ve got on?”
This was unbearable, and after using no gentle force to straighten the fellow and make him shoulder his musket, I set to work to instruct him in the duties of a sentinel. After half an hour’s hard work I left him thinking I had succeeded pretty well. A short time after I had occasion to return the same way in company with Captain Schaffer, the officer of the day, to whom I related what had occurred in front of his tent. He laughed, and offered to lay a wager that he had forgotten every word I had told him, which I readily accepted. As we approached what was my chagrin to find the fellow in exactly the same position I had at first found him, nor did he move when we got directly opposite to him. Again I asked him “what he had been put there for?” As before, he answered “to look after that thar feller’s things back thar,” accompanied with the old kick.
“Have you not been taught the duties of a sentinel, sir?” I demanded in an angry tone.
“Wall,” said he, without moving an inch, “thar was a feller ’round here a bit ago, who wor a tellin of me somethin’,but I kinder believe he didn’t know any more about it than I do.”
I troubled myself no more about that sentinel, the reader can rest assured.
After having remained at Camp Lee some three weeks, I determined to resign my commission, and endeavor, if possible, to raise a company for the field, for I had discovered that a good many youngmen were coming over from Maryland about that time to go into the army. I found it the most difficult task I had ever undertaken, as most of them preferred the cavalry or artillery to the infantry. However, by great perseverance, and the aid of Captain Richard Winder, about the 20th of December I mustered into the service a company of eighty-five as fine men as ever trod a battle-field. They were principally from the lower counties, and well behaved and intelligent men.
With the assistance and influence of Generals Elzey and Winder, I was enabled to arm and equip them well, which I could not have done otherwise, for clothing and the improved arm were at that time in much demand.
Having received my orders, on Sunday, the 30th day of December, 1862, with Volandt’s band at the head, I marched my company through the streets of Richmond to the Virginia Central depot, where I took the carsen routefor the Valley of Virginia, to join the First Maryland Battalion of Infantry, or as it was afterwards called, to distinguish it from the First Regiment, the Second Infantry.
I found it at New Market at daylight on the morning of the 2d of January, upon the eve of marching to Moorefield, on an expedition against the enemy, along with the rest of Jones’ command, to which they were temporarily attached.
My men being wearied, I was directed to remain behind and do provost duty until the return of theexpedition. It proved a fruitless one, and they returned after a week of great suffering, having been compelled on their march to break the ice and ford the many rapid mountain streams between the two places.
For the first time in a good many months I had the pleasure of taking by the hand my old friend and former companion in arms, Major James R. Herbert. I also, to my great delight, found many of the officers and men of the old First in the Battalion, now numbering seven companies, and among the former Captain Wm. H. Murray, Captain John E. Howard, and Lieutenants George Thomas, Clapham Murray, and Zollinger.