CHAPTER II.
CAMP LIFE AT MONROEVILLE—REMOVAL TO THE SEAT OF WAR—MARCHES AND EXPERIENCES OF THE REGIMENT UP TO JUNE 12TH, 1863.
Our life here was one continued round of excitement, and all were glad when the order came, (October 16,) for the regiment to move. A large number of friends were there to say good bye, and amid the tears and the God bless you of the multitude, we started for untried scenes in the great war of the rebellion.
Not, perhaps, in the course of the whole war, did Ohio send to the field a regiment of men whose whole souls were in the cause so firmly, and whose faith in the perpetuation of this glorious government of ours, was so pure, as the gallant One Hundred and Twenty-third. With officers, both in the field and line, who were not only brave and competent, but gentlemen on all occasions; with men whose efficiency and bravery, yet untested, but afterward so sorely tried, and never found lacking, it was no wonder that in the years that followed, the regiment was often selected to perform duties requiring both courage and discipline, secresy and dispatch.
To Zanesville by rail, and then down the Muskingum river, on transports to Parkersburg, stopping at several places on the river, some of which, and McConnelsville in particular, no doubt remembered our visit for some time.
On the 19th, we left on board of box cars, in two trains, for Clarksburg, on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. On the way a man belonging to Company H was severely injured, and just after having passed through a tunnel, the rear train ran into the one just ahead of it. Three cars were thrown from the track, and down an embankment, yet strange to say, none were very seriously injured, though all were pretty severely shook up. The engineer and conductor were strongly threatened by the boys, who believed them rebels at heart, and that the accident was a put-up affair. However, matters were at length quieted, and soon we were on our way for Clarksburg, where we arrived on the 20th, and went into camp. Here we received Sibley tents, five to a company, and two wall tents for the officers of each company. We thought them anything but extra residences, but before the war was over a new “dog tent” was counted a palace. Nothing of interest occured here, and on the 27th none were sorry when we received orders to break camp and proceed to Buckhannon, distance 27 miles. This, our first day’s march, was through the worst mud we ever saw, and over a road which only a Western Virginian can appreciate. Afterward we laughed about this march, and would have considered it a little pleasure jaunt, but at that time, to us, those eleven miles seemed a hundred. We reached Buckhannon on the morning of the 29th, and remained there in camp—resting—until November 2d, when away we went toward Beverly, thirty-one miles distant. The first night out we camped at the Middle Fork of Tygart Valley river, eleven miles from our start of the morning. On the bridge that spans the creek at this point we found cut in the wood the familiar names of friends in Company E, 8th Ohio, who had gone this way before us.
It was here the boys of Company G cared so well for the teamster of a runaway team, with the wagon of the medical purveyor, laden with wines and whisky, and at the same time captured all the bottles with corks out, or that could be pulled out. However, in the morning not a vestige of a cork or bottle could be found about Company G’s quarters.
The next day we marched eighteen miles, reaching Beverly. On the way we passed the Rich Mountain battle ground, the engagement at this place, near a year previous, having been so called up to that time, but the big events that followed soon after our visit, caused it to take rank as a skirmish only. It will be remembered that it was here that the 87th Pennsylvania attempted to force the guard, and thus roam through the village at will; but finding that two batteries were rapidly wheeled into position, and the balance of the brigade ready to fire on them, finally carried off their two comrades whom the guard had shot down for attempting to pass, and sullenly retired to their camp. We remained here “resting up” until the 7th, marching that day to Huttonville, eleven miles distant, and sure enough, it was a village of Huts, and of a very few huts at that. We had a rather cold rainy time of it here, and a good many of the boys were taken sick and sent back to Beverly.
While lying at Huttonville, Lieutenant Randolph, of Company B, was sent out forty miles to call in a command that was on the road towards Staunton. Procuring a good horse, he started alone, armed only with a sabre and revolver, and carried the order through the enemy’s country and returned safely to his command. We were all glad to see him back, for it was an undertaking fraught with dangers at every turn—besides, if taken prisoner, the chances of being treated as a spy stared him in the face.
We remained here until November 15th, when we returned to Beverly, and encamped for the night on a level plat of ground just east of the town.
Not soon will Mrs. Arnold, a Union lady, although the only sister of Stonewall Jackson, and residing at this place, be forgotten by the men of the 123d Regiment. Taking as many of our sick as she possibly could into her own house, she nursed them through their sickness as only a loving mother could—two of them she nursed through a long attack of typhoid fever, and that, too, after the surgeon in charge had pronounced them hopeless, and to her loving care and watchful tenderness do these two boys yet live, owing her their lives.