The afternoon of the 30th of June found the advance at the little town of Greenvillage, six miles from Chambersburg, where we filed to the left and took a country road, as we supposed, in search of suitable ground on which to encamp for the night. At length we halted in a beautiful field, close by which there was wood and water in abundance.
An hour or two after our arrival, Lieut. Col. Herbert and myself visited brigade headquarters for the purpose of learning, if possible, the reason for the retrograde movement, and the probabilities of our returning to Virginia without a fight.
We found the General agreeable and affable as usual, and with him the gallant Colonels Warren, Walton, and Parsley, of the brigade. They were discussing the very subjects upon which we wished so much to gain some information, and we listened attentively.
Walton seemed much annoyed, and in his blunt and earnest manner expressed great disappointment at the result so far of the second invasion of the enemy’s country.
“I am as much in the dark as any of you, gentlemen,” said the General; “but I do not agree with you in the supposition that we are to recross the Potomac without a great battle. The result of that battle will determine our future movements. We will pursue this road on the morrow, most assuredly, but where this road will lead us to is a question I cannot solve. Hill and Longstreet are in advance of us; Rhodes is, or was, at Carlisle; Early is supposed to be in the neighborhood of York; and that we are converging toward some given point is very evident, but of the whereabouts of that point I am totally ignorant.”
In my youth I had more than once travelled almost every road in York, Adams, and Franklin counties, and was therefore familiar with them all. From the General’s remarks it instantly flashed across my mind that we were about to move on Baltimore and Washington. That I had discovered the designs of General Lee I did not doubt for a moment, and looking wondrous wise during the rest of the conference, I determined to keep my own counsel until the next morning, when I would surprise my brother officers by unfolding to them what I was confident must be the reason for this countermarch. How near I was to the truth the reader will see.
The dawn of the first day of July broke bright and beautiful; and, as I watched the glorious sun rise majestically in the cloudless sky, I little thought its decline would inaugurate one of the most dreadful battles of the century, and usher into eternity the souls of hundreds of my fellow-men, who die engaged in deadly strife.
At seven o’clock the march was resumed; and when it became apparent we were not yet to seek Virginia’s sod, a spirit of enthusiasm diffused itself throughout the command which could hardly be controlled. Poor fellows, little did they then think a few hours more would see thousands of them stretched stark and stiff, and wounded and dying upon the gory field of Gettysburg.
“Captain Murray, I will lay you a wager,” was my exclamation as I rode to the side of that gallant young officer. “I will wager you my last ten in Confederate currency that we will see Washington’s Monument in Baltimore in so many days. Come, do you take the bet?”
Raising his eyes, he looked at me with an expression which seemed to say as plain as he could speak, “Are you jesting, or are you a fool?” and then broke out into a hearty laugh.