CHAPTER XXV.
Completion of the Potomac Creek Bridge.—An interesting relic of Virginia Aristocracy.—General Burnside determines to cross the river.—March of the Sixth Corps.—White-Oak Church.
During the first few days the rations were drawn from Acquia Landing with teams, but heavy rains coming on, the wheeling became terrible. Pioneers were accordingly set to work building corduroy roads, and in a week’s time constructed seven miles of them.
On the 28th the bridge over the Potomac Creek, ninety feet in length, was completed, and the cars immediately commenced running, bringing up plenty of supplies of every description. This structure, in addition to numerous other works, had been destroyed during the preceding August, when General Burnside abandoned the region. They had now all to be rebuilt.
The time passed here much in the same manner as in Maryland, the Regiment being employed on picket duty, slashing timber, &c., &c. Occasionally the officers rode over to the front, and viewed General Headquarters, Fredericksburg, and the river scenery, which is very attractive. Our own and the rebel pickets were scattered along the banks of the Rappahannock, almost within speaking distance of each other, and frequently indulged in conversation. “You have lost your best man,” shouted out a grey-back, one afternoon; “Burnside is played out. We don’t care a —— for him.” A Ninth New Hampshire boy replied by asking him where they had stolen their blue overcoats. “We took them off the dead Yankees at Antietam. Why didn’t you take ours?” “Because they walked off so fast,” was the ready reply. Another wanted to know if we had any Bull Run boys with us. “Have you any South Mountain or Antietam boys with you?” retorted one of our pickets. These interviews, which generally partook of a profane character, were afterwards forbidden. The enemy continued to augment their forces daily, throwing up new earthworks every night to the right or left of the city. Their operations were plainly visible from the balloon and signal stations.
Nearly opposite the road to the camp of the Thirty-third was an interesting relic of the old-time Aristocracy, concerning which the present race of Virginians boast so much, and possess so little. Standing remote and alone in the centre of a dense wood, was an antiquated house of worship, reminding one of the old heathen temples hidden in the recesses of some deep forest, whither the followers after unknown gods were wont to repair for worship, or to consult the oracles. On every side are venerable trees, overtowering its not unpretentious steeple. The structure is built of brick (probably brought from England), in the form of a cross, semi-gothic, with entrances on three sides, and was erected in the year 1794. On entering, the first object which attracts the attention, is the variously carved pulpit, about twenty-five feet from the floor, with a winding stair-case leading to it. Beneath are seats for the attendants, who, in accordance with the custom of the old English Episcopacy, waited upon the rector. The floor is of stone, a large cross of granite lying in the centre, where the broad aisles intersect. To the left of this is a square enclosure for the vestrymen, whose names are written on the north wall of the building. The reader, if acquainted with Virginia pedigrees, will recognize in them some of the oldest, and most honored names of the State—Thomas Fitzhugh, John Lee, Peter Hodgman, Moor Doniphan, John Mercer, Henry Tyler, William Mountjoy, John Fitzhugh, and John Peyton. On the south wall are four large tablets, containing Scriptural quotations. Directly beneath is a broad flag-stone, on which is engraved, with letters of gold: “In memory of the House of Moncure.” This smacks of royalty. Parallel to it lies a tomb-stone, “Sacred to the memory of William Robison, the fourth son of H. and E. Moncure, of Windsor Forest; born the 27th of January, 1806, and died 13th of April, 1828, of a pulmonary disease brought on by exposure to the cold climate of Philadelphia, where he had gone to prepare himself for the practice of medicine. Possessed of a mind strong and vigorous, and of a firmness of spirit a stranger to fear, he died manifesting that nobleness of soul which characterized him while living, the brightest promise of his parents, and the fondest hopes of their afflicted family.”
Led, doubtless, by the expectation of discovering buried valuables, some one had removed the stone from its original position, and excavated the earth beneath. Close by the entrance on the north side, are three enclosed graves, where sleep those of another generation. The brown, moss-covered tombstones appear in strong contrast to a plain pine board at the head of a fresh made grave alongside, and bearing the inscription: “Henry Basler, Co. H, 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers.”
One evening considerable alarm was occasioned by the appearance of numerous camp fires in the rear, the supposition being that the enemy had turned the right of our lines, and were pushing for Acquia Landing. Inquiry, however, soon ascertained that they proceeded from General Sickles’ Division, which was on the march from the vicinity of Fairfax to join the Second Corps.
Nearly four weeks had now elapsed since the army arrived at the new base of operations. The rainy season was approaching, and whatever was done, must be done quickly. Owing to the difficulty our scouts and spies experienced in crossing the river, but very little reliable information could be obtained of the enemy’s forces. They were variously estimated at from sixty to one hundred and twenty-five thousand men. A long extended line of fortifications appeared on the first crest of hills, but whether these constituted their only earthworks, or a new Torres Vedras existed beyond, was a matter of uncertainty.