General Kimball was not directly responsible for it. In his anxiety to capture Jeb. Stuart he had pushed ahead with the cavalry, and knew nothing of our condition until the forlorn party came straggling into his bivouac in the evening. He was very indignant, and said some words that cannot be recorded here. He was chagrined to find Stuart gone, but now was greatly relieved that such was the fact. Otherwise, said he, we would have stood an excellent chance for a journey south under rebel escort.
On our way out we passed through several small villages, in none of which did we find evidence of decided Union sentiment, except in Waterford. This was a prosperous-looking town, and the people seemed hospitable, and manifested their Union sentiments by furnishing us fruit and water freely. Our cavalry caught four of Stuart's men in a picture-gallery and marched them to the rear. I had the good fortune to secure a loaf of nice bread and a canteen of sweet milk. If any one wishes to know how good bread and milk is, let him step into my shoes on that weary night.
Conditions compelled us to remain at Leesburg that night. We rested on our arms, fearing Stuart might get an inkling of our plight and pounce upon us. My diary says I was unable to sleep because of suffering from a sprained knee and ankle, caused by my horse stumbling and falling on me just at dusk.
The next morning we were off bright and early on the back track for camp, but by another route, so as to avoid being cut off by Stuart. We had started out bravely to capture this wily rebel. Now we were in mortal danger of being captured by him. A detail was made to go back over the route we came and gather up the stragglers. On our way back I was refused a canteen of water by the "Missus" of one of the plantation dwellings; but on riding around to the rear, where the slaves lived, old "Aunt Lucy" supplied us freely with both milk and water. This was a sample of the difference between the aristocrat in the mansion and the slave in the hovel. The latter were always very friendly and ready to help us in every possible way, while as a rule we met with rebuff at the hands of the former.
Here we came in contact for the first time with plantation life under the institution of slavery. The main or plantation house was usually situated a quarter-mile or more back from the "pike." They were generally low, flat, one-story mansions, built of stone, while further to the rear, in the form of a square, were the wooden cabins of the slaves, each plantation a village by itself. We marched only about eight miles this day, and bivouacked near the village of Hillsboro. This evening we officers of the field and staff caught on to a great treat in the way of stewed chicken and corn cake for supper at a Union farmhouse, and thought ourselves very fortunate to be able to engage a breakfast at the same place for next morning. Alas for the uncertainties of war! We had barely rolled ourselves in our blankets for the night when a staff officer from General Kimball's head-quarters came and in a low tone of voice ordered us to arouse our men without the least noise and be off as quietly as possible; that scouts had reported that Stuart was after us in hot haste. We were off almost in a jiffy. The night was cool and foggy. The former favored our rapid march, and the latter hid us from the enemy, who succeeded in capturing only a couple of men who fell out.
We reached camp at Harper's Ferry shortly after sunrise, a thoroughly tired and battered crowd. The expedition proved absolutely fruitless, and had barely escaped being captured, owing to mismanagement. It was the most trying bit of service of our whole experience. Some of our men never recovered from the exhaustion of that first day's march, and had to be discharged as permanently disabled.
Shortly after this another expedition relieved the monotony of camp life. General Hancock, commanding the Second Division of our corps, had been sent to make a reconnoissance in force towards Halltown, six to eight miles up the Shenandoah Valley. He had gone in the morning, and shortly after noon we had heard cannonading in that direction, showing that he had found "business." It was Hancock's reputation to make "business," if the "Johnnies" could be induced to tarry long enough for him to reach them. However, the firing shortly ceased, and the night set in with a terrific rain-storm. I remember, as I rolled myself in my blanket prepared for a good sleep in defiance of the rain, sympathizing with those poor fellows out on that reconnoissance in all this storm. My sympathy was premature. Just then I heard an ominous scratch on my tent, and the hand of an orderly was thrust through the flaps with an order. In much trepidation I struck a light. Sure I was of trouble, or an order would not have been sent out at such a time. My fears were realized. It directed our regiment to report at brigade head-quarters in heavy marching order with all possible despatch. Here was a "state of things." Was it ever so dark, and did it ever rain harder? Not in my recollection. But that order left no time for cogitations. Into boots, clothing, and gum blanket, out to the colonel's tent with the order, then with his orders to all the companies, the sounding of the long roll, the forming line, and away to brigade head-quarters in that inky blackness and drenching rain was the work of less than fifteen minutes. General Kimball complimented us as being the first regiment to report, and we were honored with the head of the column which was to support Hancock at Halltown. French's division had been ordered out as supports, and Kimball's brigade had the advance.
We marched rapidly up the valley of the Shenandoah, now as black as Erebus. But soon the rain ceased, the clouds broke away, and the stars appeared, completely transforming the scene, and except for the mud and our wet and uncomfortable condition it would have been an enjoyable march. After going about six miles we were directed into a woods to rest until morning. Inside the woods it was inky dark again, and we made headway with much difficulty. Men and horses stumbled and floundered over fallen logs and through brush at imminent peril of limbs, until a halt was made, and after details for picket had been sent out we were allowed to rest until daylight.
It was now about three o'clock. But to rest, soaking wet, almost covered with mud, in a woods that had been so drenched with rain that everything was like a soaked sponge, that was the problem. No fires were allowed, for no one knew how near the enemy might be. However, the men were tired enough to sleep, most of them, even under those conditions. I well remember the weary walking and stamping to keep warm until the sunshine came to our relief. But daylight revealed a condition of things relative to our position that, had the enemy known, we might again have been made an easy prey. Our details for water, after going out some distance, as they supposed in our rear, suddenly found themselves uncomfortably near the enemy's outposts, and hurried back to camp with the information. It was found that in the darkness our picket line had actually gotten turned around, so that our rear had been carefully guarded, whilst our front was left wholly exposed. The denseness of the woods and the darkness of the night had been our salvation. We shortly learned that Hancock had accomplished his purpose and was moving back to Harper's Ferry. We followed leisurely, reaching the camp about noon, thoroughly tired and bedraggled from the rain and mud.