CHAPTER IV.
ON THE MARCH.
The first tap of the drum at early morn of the eleventh instant, aroused us with that faint consciousness of something important before us, with which the sleeper always wakens on the day of some long-expected event. The last preparations were gone through, blankets rolled, canteens filled and lost straps found, while hurry and confusion reigned supreme in the various quarters.
At last, everything was in readiness, and as the impatient drums sounded the assembly call, we marched out on the parade-ground as if for a review. The line was formed, with the pioneers in advance, and with band playing and colors flying, the 45th started on its first expedition, their hearts beating high with hope and enthusiasm. On every side of us trooped our contraband camp followers, laden down with all manner of strange things, such as the ingenuity of an inexperienced officer's mind could suggest as likely to contribute to his wants and comfort, from a cooking-stove to a shoe-brush. The two miles of sandy road which lay between the camp and the town, served in a measure to dampen the ardor of some of the more demonstrative ones, and more than one armor vest, which the kind but injudicious care of friends had provided, was left to rest by the wayside before the end of those first two miles.
On reaching the city we found the streets crowded with troops of every description, infantry, cavalry and artillery, massed together in almost endless confusion. But after two or three hours delay, the different commanders began to find their proper positions in the line of march, and about eleven o'clock of the eleventh of December, the long column moved forward.
Past Fort Totten, out on the Trent road, the line for a short time presented an orderly appearance. But soon there was a bridge to cross, a great puddle to pick your way around or go splashing through, as inclination directed; then a stream, whose bridge was a log on one side, admitting only of single file, the water, yellow and dirty, looking suspiciously deep for wading. The unfortunates in the rear had to make up for these delays by frequent double-quick, until at length all distinction, not merely of regiments but also of companies, had disappeared. The march subsided into a mere race between individuals, all making for some unknown object ahead, at the highest rate of speed. On! On! Will the column never halt, or have the advance suddenly become possessed of cork legs, which like those in the song, will never stop, thought the poor fellows on this first morning of their march, when those fell enemies of the soldier, sore feet, lame backs and aching limbs, became clamorous for their victims.
At last, came the halt for dinner, and most of us experienced a full realization of the blessedness of rest, while our hard-tack and coffee was like the milk and honey to the Jews. But time and our leaders are inexorable, and already the lengthening shadows reprove delay, so once more the hurrying, tearing pace begins. But now our colonel has made a wise rule, that on passing any obstacle tending to delay the rear, the head of the regiment shall halt until the last company has passed. This prevents the recurrence of intervals so disheartening for those in the rear to see opening before them, and requiring an extra effort to make up the lost space.
We had little leisure that first day to examine the country about us, but every now and then a deserted house, the forlorn, desolate appearance of those still occupied, and the looks of the miserable, half-starved creatures, who, with undisguised hatred in their eyes, stood gazing on the moving tide of Yankee soldiery, gave but too good evidence that the iron hand of war had been laid very heavily upon this people. Truly, they were suffering for the sins of their leaders, and their hatred of the Northern troops was not to be wondered at, when they slaughtered their cattle, seized their horses, plundered their poultry yards, and even entered their houses and snatched the food from their mouths, without so much as a "by your leave."
Our progress became slower as evening drew near, and several times the column was obliged to halt to allow time for the rebuilding of bridges which were destroyed by the enemy on our approach. Darkness soon enveloped us, but the weary train still pressed on. At last, however, our hearts were gladdened by the distant gleam of light flashing in the horizon, for we soon learned that it was caused by the fires of our advance guard.
Our burden grew lighter as we hurried forward, refreshed by the sight, and when at last, descending a hill, we emerged from the woods which skirted its brow, a scene burst upon our startled vision which, in its picturesque beauty, almost repaid us for the long and weary way we had traversed before reaching it.