I enlisted under H. D. Davis, at Manchester, N. H., July 12, 1862, in the Ninth Regiment New Hampshire Volunteers. I went directly to Northfield, to visit my parents and friends before going into camp. It is almost useless for me to speak of the parting scene. I took leave of all my friends except my wife and sister, with her husband. My aged parents were bowed down with sorrow and grief. They had buried their oldest son and two daughters; there were only three of us left—and now to lose me (for they had little hope of ever seeing me again) was almost too much for them to bear.
We went into camp the first of August. Spent the first night in the barracks. I did not sleep much, I assure you, every thing was so strange—so much noise and confusion of tongues. But I soon became accustomed to my surroundings, and found real attractions in camp life.
I had always made it a rule to reprove sin whenever an opportunity offered; but I soon found out what it meant to cast pearls before swine.
Then I adopted another plan; it was this: first, to watch every opportunity of doing a good turn for my comrades. I interested myself in the loved ones they had left at home—in a word, I tried to make them love me; and I succeeded far beyond what I expected. I do not think there was one in our company who would have seen any harm come to me if they could have prevented it. Then, when occasion required, I could reprove sin without being reproached and made to understand it was none of my business.
Our time was mostly occupied in drilling, until the 24th of August, when we were mustered into the United States’ service. On the 29th, we struck tents early in the morning and marched to the depot, where we took the cars for the seat of war. It was a sad time with us that morning, as one after another bid farewell to loved ones. Very few of those brave men ever returned. I had previously taken leave of my friends and told them I should return to them again.
We started from Concord about seven in the morning; large crowds were gathered at the stations all along our route to encourage and cheer us.
We arrived in Washington on the first of September; laid in the barracks near the station that night. The next morning, I got leave to look about the city, and must confess I was sadly disappointed. I had expected to see something grand, and perhaps I should if I had traveled far enough. As it was, about all there were to be seen were cows and goats, with vast numbers of swine running at large in the streets. I went back to the barracks not very well pleased with our Capital.
In a very short time we had orders to fall in. We then crossed the long bridge, and marched about three miles beyond, and camped for the night. About midnight we received orders to turn out—the rebels were upon us. We turned out in a hurry; formed a line across the road with bayonets fixed, for we had as yet received no ammunition. We remained in line about twenty minutes, and then started off on another road; marched about two miles at double quick; were then ordered back to camp, without seeing or hearing a single rebel. The next day, we marched about six miles up the Potomac. Here we found work chopping down trees, and throwing up fortifications.
On the 4th of September, a part of the army of the Peninsula passed us on their way to the second Bull Run battle. They were all worn out with continual marching and fighting, and many looked as if they would fall by the wayside. I said to myself as they were passing: Why are worn-out men like these pressed to the front, while we are held back! Well, when the order comes, we too shall have to go; until then, we must wait and shovel. All I could do for them was to give them my ration of soft bread.
The 8th of September was my first night on picket duty in an enemy’s country. About nine o’clock it commenced raining very hard. I was relieved about twelve; laid down near an old stump, and was soon fast asleep. When I awoke, I found myself in a pond of water which nearly covered me. I managed to get out of the water and back to camp. The result of this ducking was the dysentery in its worst form. I was compelled to go directly to the hospital, and receive such care as they had to give.