March 23. The balance of the corps came up, and the march over the Cumberland Mountains was begun. From this time till the 27th, the troops were passing along over the mountain roads. On the 24th, the regiment camped at “Chitwoods.” It snowed all night, and the men slept upon the ground. On the 25th, the regiment marched all day, from early morning till late evening, in a hard rain-storm, and lay down upon the cold wet earth at night. The roads were in a most shocking condition; so bad that the officers were obliged to dismount. The rain gave birth to innumerable torrents, which, rushing down the mountain-sides, plowed open great furrows in the road-bed, in some instances so wide that they could only be crossed by bridging. On the 27th, the troops reached Point Isabel, in the mountains, where there was a camp called “Camp Burnside.” The sutler stationed at this place, hoping to make a fortune in a day, very imprudently trebled the price of his goods. A murmur of disapproval arose among the men, which resulted in the whole of Ferrero’s division turning out and sacking the greedy trader’s booth, and making among them a distribution of his goods. There was a sort of wild justice about this performance, that so far commended itself to the officers of the corps, that the men were not interfered with or punished. At noon of this day, the regiment crossed the Cumberland River on pontoons, and at night went into camp at Somerset, Ky.
March 28. The march was commenced early in the morning, a halt being made for dinner on the same spot of ground where the regiment stopped for the same purpose in June, 1863. At night, camped (the third time) at Waynesborough. The men had a wet bivouac; it rained hard all night.
On the night of the 29th, the camp was formed at Hall’s Gap. A severe snow-storm set in as the sun went down, and continued all night, rendering the condition of the “boys” intensely miserable.
March 30. Marched through Stanford, and halted for dinner at Lancaster. The roads were covered with snow, and the weather was very cold. Went into camp about three miles from Camp Dick Robinson. The camp was made on the farm of an eccentric character, named Robert L. Route. He was the owner of a large plantation, and was in that region a sort of “land king,”—a man to whom the neighboring people always went for advice, and whose word was law; there were many such throughout the South. Route kindly invited the brigade commander and staff to spend the night at his house, a genuine country palace, where they were hospitably treated. During the night, some of the men very thoughtlessly cut down one of his fine black locust-trees. “When the old planter discovered the mischief, the next morning, he became exceedingly angry; but instead of going to the officers and making known his grievance, he knelt down under the windows of their bedroom, and in their hearing, invoked, in a long prayer, upon the heads of the soldiers who destroyed his locust-tree, the Divine wrath,—prayed that they might be suddenly removed from the earth, and consigned to the torments of the damned.
The officers feared an unpleasant reception at the breakfast table that morning; but Mr. Route’s hospitality was superior to his passions, and as though nothing of an unpleasant nature had happened, greeted them courteously.
After supper (the night before), Route brought in his little son, a youth of some nine or ten summers, whom he introduced to the officers as Robert L. Route, Jr., and standing him upon the table, made the following exhibition of his precocity: “Robert, my son, who was the greatest man that ever lived?” “Jesus Christ,” said the youth. “Right, my son; who is the next greatest man that ever lived?” “Abraham Lincoln,” was the answer. “Right, my son; and who is the next?” “Robert L. Route, my father,” answered the boy, with increased assurance. “Right, my son; and, gentlemen, isn’t this a boy to be proud of?” said the delighted parent. The officers increased the father’s happiness by saying that they thought the boy a very remarkable one indeed, and that his high estimation of his father’s worth was well grounded.
March 31. The regiment arrived at Camp Nelson at noon. Here four days’ rations were distributed among the men of the Brigade, after which it moved to Nicholasville, and took the cars for Cincinnati.
April 1. The Brigade arrived at Covington (opposite Cincinnati), and Major Chipman had orders to proceed with the regiment to Cincinnati. Crossed the Ohio to the city, and took up quarters in the Sixth Street barracks. Colonel Barnes gave up his command of the Brigade and joined his regiment. Colonel Pierce, who had been in Massachusetts for several weeks prior to this, upon learning of the arrival of the regiment at Cincinnati, came to that city on the 3d of April, assumed command, and on the 7th started with the regiment for Boston, arriving there about five o’clock on Saturday afternoon, April 9.
The regiment came home so unexpectedly, that no preparations were made to receive it, and the men, except those who belonged in the city, went into the barracks on Beach Street, while the officers took up their quarters at the United States Hotel. The Boston papers of Monday the 11th of April duly noticed the arrival of the regiment, the “Journal” devoting nearly a half-column to a description of it, the names of its officers, an account of the battles and campaigns in which it had been engaged, and said of it, among other pleasant things, “The Twenty-ninth has as good a record as any in the service, and deserves a hearty welcome.”
According to the report above alluded to, the regiment at that time numbered one hundred and sixty-six enlisted men. On this day the regiment was formally received by the State and city authorities. Escorted by the Cadets, it marched through the principal streets of the city. Dinner was served at the American House, to which all, both men and officers, were made welcome. Governor Andrew was present at the dinner, and made a most pleasing address. Speeches were also made by Colonels Pierce and Barnes, and by Captains Clarke and Leach. The command was dismissed at the close of the day, and the men, weary with the formalities of a public reception, went to their several homes, there to be received in a manner that more keenly touched their hearts; for there they were to be greeted by those who loved them, had a deep personal interest in their welfare, and who had waited and watched for them for nearly three long, weary years.