Читать книгу A Minor War History Compiled from a Soldier Boy's Letters to "the Girl I Left Behind Me": 1861-1864 онлайн

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We certainly do have gay times here in camp. The days are frightfully hot, but the evenings are cool and nice, and somehow or other the camp scenes then remind me—and I can’t tell just how—of an old-fashioned country fair. I suppose it’s the canvas, the lighted tents like open booths, the men swarming hither and thither, the bustle and frolic and singing—and we have some very fine singers in our company.

P. S.—Monday Morning.—We have received orders to march tomorrow at two o’clock, with three days’ rations and without camp equipage. The orders are imperative and we are sure of going. We shall probably see some of the business we came for before long. I will write at the first opportunity and let you know what happens.

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Washington, D. C., July 24, 1861.

IINTENDED to write to you yesterday, but after what I have been through in the past week I simply couldn’t get up steam. Last Tuesday—a week ago yesterday—this regiment crossed the Potomac at Long Bridge, with the other regiments and batteries of Burnsides’ brigade, and advanced into Virginia. Saturday night we were encamped about a mile from Centreville. At two o’clock Sunday morning we were up and on the march, and at ten o’clock we came upon the secessionists at Bull Run and engaged them. The battle lasted several hours, when we were obliged to withdraw. It was a very disorderly retreat. We expected to be followed sharply, of course, and there was no halt worth talking about until we straggled into Washington, every man for himself. Coming and going we got in about sixty miles of travel, to say nothing of several hours on the battlefield. I was about all in when, midday Monday, I reached the Virginia end of Long Bridge. We were then inside the fortifications, and there were kettles of hot coffee and boxes of hard bread set out for everybody to help themselves. It did seem as if I never could drag myself over to our camp. But I finally negotiated with a huckster who was over there with his team, and having purchased his remaining stock of pies and distributed them among the crowd of refugees, he gave me a ride across the bridge and up into the city well toward Camp Sullivan.