Ten years in the ranks, U.S. Army

by Augustus Meyers

Next day a fierce battle was fought all day; in our camps at Yorktown, where we were held in readiness to march at a moment's notice, we could plainly hear the heavy firing. That night the enemy abandoned their position and the road to the Chickahominy river was open. All the troops now began a forward movement, but we were among the last to leave, two or three days after the battle of Williamsburg. Transportation was limited, only one wagon being allowed our small regiment to carry the officers' tents, their baggage, mess-kits, etc. Nothing was carried for the soldiers, except the sergeant-major's and first sergeant's small desks or chests in which their books and papers were kept. By this time many of the officers had negro servants—soldiers not being allowed for that service while in the field; these they had picked up from among the many hundreds of General Butler's "contrabands" at Fortress Monroe. Many had broken-down mules, or old horses, on which they packed shelter tents, blankets, provisions and a few cooking utensils—a very convenient arrangement to resort to on a prolonged march, when the officers wanted some coffee, or when the baggage wagon failed to reach camp. These servants were mostly ignorant plantation niggers, but they seemed to fill the bill. They walked and led their animals; and in some way they managed to find or steal forage enough to keep them alive. The unfortunate ones who did not have animals to carry their burdens were obliged to make pack-horses of themselves. These camp followers, or "dog robbers," as we called them, kept up close with the command to which they belonged, except when they heard any firing going on in front, in which case they did not show up until all was quiet again.

Our first day's march was to Williamsburg, about twelve miles, where we encamped for the night near Fort Magruder on a part of the battlefield of three days previous. Not much of the struggle remained to be seen, the dead had been buried, the dead horses burned, but the woods and trees and the earthworks showed the effects of the rifle and cannon firing which must have been most severe. The road from our camps led through Yorktown; we passed by some of the Rebel fortifications which heretofore had been seen only from a distance. We noticed a number of small sticks with a piece of rag attached to them. These indicated places where percussion shells were supposed to have been buried by the Rebels. A squad of Rebel prisoners under guard were forced to dig them up. This was very dangerous work, as to step on the cap of the shell or to strike it with a tool was liable to cause a disastrous explosion.

The weather was very warm; the road was mostly through pine woods with an occasional clearing; the woods, set on fire by the retreating Rebels, were still burning in places and the smoke at times was suffocating. We found the road strewn with blankets, overcoats and other clothing and articles discarded by our troops who had marched ahead of us. Owing to the warm weather, the heat of the burning woods and the rough state of the roads, we felt the weight of our knapsacks on our backs more than ever before; and we also began to shed clothing. We reasoned that there was a long summer before us, during which we would need but little clothing in this climate; and if we were still alive in the fall we could draw more blankets and overcoats. My bunkie and I lightened our loads by discarding a blanket and an overcoat; the other blanket we cut in two, and cutting the cape off the remaining overcoat, we cast it away, together with half of the blanket and some other articles, all of which lightened our burden considerably.

All through the summer when on a march, we did not bother with putting up a shelter tent unless it rained. We spread one of the sections of the tent on the ground and lay on the half-blanket, covering ourselves with the blanket and with the other section of the tent if we expected a heavy dew. Sometimes we were caught in a shower during the night, but that did not disturb us much, as we were then too tired and sleepy to get up and erect a tent. We kept the overcoat for a while to be made use of when either of us was on guard or picket, but we soon threw that away, also. The country people who lived along the route of the army must have gathered a rich harvest in clothing and shoes at this time. There were a few men in every company who could not make up their minds to part with any of their property; some even picked up articles that others had thrown away and added them to their burden, although they staggered under the load.

The second day's march was a short one. We went only about six or seven miles beyond Williamsburg and encamped. In going through the town we saw but few citizens, except colored people; the stores were nearly all closed, the private houses had their blinds closed and were seemingly deserted. The ladies were evidently hiding themselves. The place was full of wounded soldiers from both armies; large hospital tents flying the yellow flag had been erected on the outskirts of the town. We passed the venerable buildings of William and Mary College, which, I think, were used as a hospital at that time.

Next morning, soon after reveille, I was handed an order for the admission of half-a-dozen sick soldiers from my brigade (whom the surgeon considered unable to stand a campaign) to a hospital at Williamsburg. I was directed to take charge of them, to march them there and rejoin my company as speedily as possible and as best I could. I secured permission to leave my knapsack in the regimental baggage wagon, keeping only a blanket which I made into a roll and carried over my shoulder. I started early, but it took my sick squad about four hours to travel the distance of six miles back to Williamsburg. I found the hospital tent, left my charges and was given a receipt for them.

The day was still young. I was puzzled whether to stay in the town and await the chance to return under the protection of some detachment of soldiers, or to go on alone. I decided on the latter course, for I felt fresh and vigorous and was a good marcher; I reasoned that I would be able to overtake my command before night, if they had not made too long a march that day; and, at the worst, I might find a wagon-train or some soldiers encamped along the road, among whom I might spend the night. I stayed in town only long enough to get something to eat and some coffee at the hospital, and then started off at a brisk pace which I kept up with only a few short rests until evening, when I began to look anxiously for signs of a large camp ahead. None was to be seen, and no one seemed to be traveling towards me, from whom I could learn how far it was to the next camp. The road was a very lonely one; much of it was through woods, and there were but few houses and cabins. The trail left by the army could be easily followed in the daytime, but after dark it would be more difficult when arriving at a cross or branch road to decide which way to go.

During the afternoon I was never any very great length of time out of sight of a wagon-train or some cavalry detachment, and I also met some stragglers, who had been foraging. They asked me to stay with them but I declined. Towards evening I saw no one and felt very lonely and uneasy. Shortly after sundown a small cavalry squad in charge of an officer overtook me. I was halted and the officer demanded to know what I was doing alone on the road. I showed him my receipt and explained that I was not a straggler. He advised me to hide in the woods in a hurry and to stay there until some detachment came along which I could join, or I would be shot by guerrillas. I had not heard guerrillas mentioned before in camp, but from the earnest way in which this officer spoke, I judged they were to be dreaded.

I quickly retraced my steps to the nearest woods, about half a mile behind me, and took a careful look up and down the road before entering, but saw nothing to alarm me. Within hearing distance of the road, I spread my blanket under a tree, ate a portion of my rations and took a drink of water from my canteen. It was growing dark and I was afraid to light my pipe and have a smoke, so I lay down on my blanket to rest, my loaded rifle beside me. I felt very tired, as I must have marched more than twenty-five miles since early morning, according to my calculation, and although I tried to keep awake and listen for any noise there might be on the road, sleep overcame me and I did not wake up until it was broad daylight.

After a careful survey I resumed my march and soon passed a house a few hundred yards off the road, in which no one seemed to be stirring yet. A few miles further on, I saw a cavalry picket post and, noting the blue uniform and yellow facings, I knew that I was safe. Here I learned that the camp was but little more than a mile ahead and soon heard the joyful notes of a bugle call. My regiment was waiting to take its place in line for the day's march and I reported to the commanding officer, who complimented me on my activity in making two days' marches in one, and ordered me as a reward to be excused from guard and picket duties for a month.