Now I will go back and tell you what else we have been doing since I wrote last. Last Wednesday, the 22d, the Third Corps left Ashby’s Gap and reached a little railroad station called Piedmont, and the following morning marched to Manassas Gap. This pass is about five miles long, and when we got there the rebels held one end and our folks the other. Our cavalry had been skirmishing with the enemy for three days, and this day we moved in and took our turn. The fight commenced early in the afternoon. The rebels had a strong position along the crest of a high hill or ridge [Wapping Heights] that blocked the western end of the gap. For a time our brigade lay massed on the lower slope of an opposite hill and watched the preparations. And when the movement started there was something about it that reminded me of some of the “dioramas” you and I have seen in Manchester. There was the steep hillside, with the long line of blue dots—our skirmishers—crawling up and up, and the solid blue lines of the supporting regiments not very far behind. The height was soon carried, and we pushed on beyond, our brigade two hundred yards in rear of the Excelsior Brigade, which we followed and supported.
The Excelsiors made one charge, and it was a hustler. They and the rebels were facing each other across a deep, rocky gulch. The Excelsiors charged down through this with a yell. Colonel Farnham, of the Second Excelsior, and Gen. Spinola dashed ahead of everything, on their horses, and took two rebel sharpshooters prisoners, although Spinola was badly wounded. Farnham was the captain of the slave ship “Wanderer,” which was the cause of so much excitement a few years ago. By this day’s work the rebels were cleared entirely out of the gap.
The next morning our division advanced into the Shenandoah valley, the entire Second Regiment being deployed as skirmishers in advance of the column. We had not gone thirty rods when, on coming into the road, I came upon the sprawling form of one poor Johnny who had met his fate the previous day. He was apparently fighting in the shelter of a sunken road, when a bullet pierced his brain and he rolled down the bank to the roadbed. The cartridges were scattered from his open cartridge-box, and picking one up I noted it was of peculiar construction. None of us have ever seen one like it before. The paper is set firmly in the base of the bullet, so all one has to do in loading is to break the two apart with his fingers, pour his powder and ram his bullet home. It is the toothless man’s sure-pop cartridge fast enough. [I still have it among my war relics.] We advanced clear to Front Royal without any serious opposition, then rallied on the colors, about-faced and marched back to the gap.
I intend to carry this letter down to the post-office myself, so you will be pretty sure to get it. Hen. Everett is going down before long and I will wind up so as to go along with him.
CII
Point Lookout, Lower Potomac, Md.,
August 1, 1863.
WE HAVE a mail at last, and I was fortunate enough to get four letters from you. Now that we are here, it looks as if I would not have much of anything to do except to write letters. We got here yesterday forenoon, and are now fairly well settled. We are camped close to the beach, on smooth, level ground. We have A-tents and a plenty of them, so we are not crowded for room. Dan. Desmond and I have a tent all to ourselves. Jess. Dewey is acting orderly-sergeant, so he has his own tent.
Afternoon.—I was called away rather suddenly this morning, to go on guard. Now, coming back to the guard headquarters from dinner, I have brought my writing materials along, so as to finish my letter today. Talking of comfort! I am sitting in the shade of big pine trees, within two rods of the shore of Chesapeake Bay, a delicious breeze blowing from the water and the waves rolling up on the beach. [This was at General Marston’s headquarters.] The first thing this morning, when reveille was blown, nearly every man in the regiment made a dash for the water, for a plunge and a swim. This was a fashionable summer resort before the war. The waters abound in crabs, and the boys have already got to catching them. When I was up to camp this noon one of the boys had a kettleful on boiling. We had a ration of “salt horse” [corned beef] today—the first we have had since leaving Washington for Falmouth. It seemed like an old friend.