My First Campaign

by Joseph W. Grant

The enemy occupied the heights opposite us, a mile back from the river, and threw their pickets out opposite ours, and in some places within speaking distance. At first some fears were entertained, lest the pickets might be tempted or provoked to fire upon one another. Instead of this, neither party seem inclined to communicate in this hair-on-end style, but, on the contrary, although strictly forbidden to do so, sometimes held friendly communication with one another. The distance from our camp to the banks of the Rappahannock, was perhaps two miles.

We went on picket regularly, every Friday morning, and remained on twenty-four hours, then returned to camp again. This duty was not very arduous, as our regiment guarded a line of not more than a mile in length, along the river, and held heavy reserves, to repel any force that might attempt to cross from the opposite side. In the daytime, no danger being apprehended from this source, some of the men procured passes, and were allowed to go to Falmouth, where, if they were so fortunate as to have the means, and felt so disposed, could, by paying exorbitant prices, get the wherewith to refresh the inner man.

There is a large mill in this place, which is capable of turning out large quantities of flour and meal. There are twelve sets of stone in the building, six for grinding wheat, and six for corn. I visited this mill, and for the first time, witnessed the operation of grinding, bolting, and packing flour. There were only two sets of stone running for wheat, at the time I visited the mill. There were also two sets grinding corn. Having seen no Indian meal for sometime, I bought half a peck, paying at the rate of two dollars per bushel. There seemed to be a scarcity of provisions among the people of Falmouth, the boys paying fifty cents for a breakfast of warm Johnny cake and coffee. I went to Falmouth in company with Lieutenant Bucklin, who determined to have a breakfast before leaving, and by hunting awhile found a place, and by teasing, obtained a seat at the table, and for once we ate our fill. We had fried pork steak, hot biscuit, hot coffee and syrup, as much of each as we wished.

In talking with Falmouth men, they tell me that last winter was unusually severe, with large quantities of snow and rain. They told me, also, that this winter had been very mild thus far, but that every sixth or seventh winter was apt to be severe, like that of '61 and '62, but that this winter was a fair type of what they usually are in this part of the country. I told them I was surprised to find the weather continuing so mild, with so little rain. I had noticed one feature of the country that gave me some little uneasiness. This was the deep ravines with which the face of the country is indented, and which I supposed were caused by the heavy winter rains, and expected to see an illustration of this kind of drenching and washing, much to my own particular inconvenience. I was told they have their heaviest rains in the summer; this information relieved my mind of that which I had the greatest fear of.

The village of Falmouth is an old, dilapidated looking place, containing, perhaps, one thousand inhabitants. It is situated at the head of tide water, on the Rappahannock, three-fourths of a mile above Fredericksburg, and is connected with the opposite side of the river by a bridge, which crosses directly opposite the centre of the village; half of the bridge, on the Falmouth side, remains uninjured, the rest of the way nothing but the piers remain standing. The length of this bridge was about forty rods, and crossed the river at a height of perhaps thirty feet. It was a wooden structure, and rested on piers of logs and stone. There is a considerable fall in the river, opposite and above Falmouth, the bed of which, at this place, is one mass of rough, broken rocks, extending up the river as far as I could see. Owing to the long continuance of dry weather, the river is very low, and could be easily forded, I should think, any where in the vicinity of this place. I believe it is generally acknowledged to have been a great mistake, in not crossing the river and occupying the heights, now in the possession of the enemy, which could have been easily done at the time our first detachment arrived here. I think one with a good pair of boots could go over dry shod. The bridges were burned at the time of Burnside's occupation last summer. Since then the people about here habitually crossed and recrossed the river with their teams. Our Generals, having had experience last winter, which was unusually rough and stormy, had fears, no doubt, of having their communication cut off if they crossed, through the rise of the river alone, and thus find themselves in a tight place before the railroad bridge could be completed. The banks of the Rappahannock, at Falmouth and beyond Fredericksburg as far as I could see upon the northern side, are very high and precipitous,—I should think, upon an average, sixty feet above the level of the river. On the Fredericksburg side the bank is not as steep. The heights back of the city, and occupied by the enemy as their first line of defence, and three-fourths of a mile from the river, are but very little higher than those occupied by our batteries immediately upon the bank. Fredericksburg, as we stand on the bank opposite, seems almost beneath our feet, and, of course, at the tender mercies of our batteries. There is a wagon-road between Falmouth and Fredericksburg, upon the northern side of the river, running close by the edge at the foot of the bank. Along this road our line of pickets are stationed. Upon the opposite side, along the river, is the wagon-road occupied by the pickets of the enemy. Our repulse at Fredericksburg somewhat discouraged the soldiers, but as time passed by they gained courage again. Immediately after the battle, newspapers in opposition to the administration appeared in camp and were sold in large quantities. These scurrilous sheets were eagerly sought after and read by the soldiers of our regiment, who fed upon them like crows upon carrion, not considering the object of this abuse of the administration,—namely, political chicanery. Some of the men who had enlisted for nine months, no doubt hoped to escape without getting into a fight; but, having seen the elephant, and partly caught a glimpse of his gigantic proportions, they were ready to make a sacrifice of every principle of right and justice rather than to expose their precious lives again.

Many of these men were those who, at home, were ready to make every sacrifice, denouncing the rebels in no unmeasured terms, shouldering the musket with an alacrity worthy of the cause to which they pledged their "lives and sacred honor;" who, after a little experimenting in shot, shell, and gunpowder, were ready to make any sacrifice, or compromise with the enemy, that would relieve them, fully illustrating the old saying that "distance lends enchantment to the view;" also, that "self-preservation is the first law of nature." I became utterly disgusted with this class of croakers and grumblers, whom it was impossible to escape, and who greedily fed upon every thing discouraging, namely, "the impossibility of conquering the enemy," "ruinous state of the finances," "depreciation of paper currency," &c., endeavoring to hold an argument upon matters they evidently knew nothing about. They at this time flattered themselves that a general feeling of dissatisfaction among the soldiers would go towards putting an end to the war, and used their influence accordingly, swallowing and disgorging all things of a discouraging nature, and that with an avidity which would do credit to a flock of buzzards feeding upon a defunct mule. Those were trying times; but the same principle which prompted me to enter the service still upheld me. I had faith to think that, as the war progressed, partisan feeling would be destroyed, the North would become more united in purpose, able leaders would be found, and this rebellion would eventually be crushed.

I was very fortunate in being permitted to enjoy good health thus far. I had not as yet been reported sick, or been excused from duty on account of sickness, and by a little care escaped the tender mercies of our hospital. Sickness at this time, January 19th, began to tell upon the regiment. Quite a number had died in the hospital within a week. Stephen Clissold was the first man of our company who had died in the hospital up to this time. He received a severe wound in the head while in action, December 13th, which I think was the ultimate cause of his death. I am afraid much sickness in this regiment was brought about through the neglect of men, in not being mindful of a few simple things, which go far towards preserving their health. I know some of the men suffered for the want of clothes, through their own carelessness. This particular class, not considering the irregularity of supplies, especially in connection with so large an army as we had in our immediate vicinity, and the impossibility of keeping a supply constantly on hand, of all kinds, and the necessity of economizing, and keeping in good condition what they had, until they could get more, found themselves uncomfortably short.

Immediately after the battle of the 13th, for two or three days, we were somewhat short of provisions, but had enough to satisfy our hunger. As we became established in camp, we began to live again. At first we had hard crackers. This is the staple article. Then pork, coffee, sugar and beans. After being here two weeks, we drew rations of fresh beef, drawing it regularly since, once a week. We had potatoes two or three times, and onions, also.

January 14th, we drew rations of salt beef; this was the first we had seen since we left "Camp Casey."

January 15th, we drew rations of dried apples, but hard crackers, salt pork and coffee, are the staple articles. These we had at all times, as much as we wished; when on the march it is all we have. Beans and rice we usually had at all times, as they are more easily transported. Beef, potatoes, onions, &c., we began to class among the luxuries of a soldier's life, it being impossible to supply us with these, at all times, during an active campaign. Sutlers, who had not been seen for sometime, began to come among us again. I will give the prices of some of their articles, as they were sold at that time: Tobacco, $2 per lb.; butter, 75 cents per lb.; cheese, 50 cents per lb.; pepper, $1 per lb.; apples, 5 cents apiece; cookies, 25 cents a dozen; boots, $8 and $10 per pair, that retail at home for $3 and $4, and other things in proportion. Soft bread was among the things gone by; we had not seen any since we left "Camp Casey."