CHAPTER II.

WE BREAK UP CAMP AT KEOKUK--THE PARTING OCCASION--THE

LAST LINGERING LOOK--A PLEASANT STEAMBOAT RIDE--TWO

NIGHTS AND A DAY AT HANNIBAL--WE ADVANCE BY RAIL

INTO THE INTERIOR OF MISSOURI--DANGERS ATTENDING

THE MOVEMENT--WE HALT AT CHILLICOTHE, GRAND RIVER

BRIDGE, AND UTICA--LEAVING THE CARS AND CAMPING FOR

THE NIGHT--CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY--OUR FIRST NIGHT

ALARM--HOW WE CELEBRATED THE FOURTH OF JULY--OUR

UNIFORM--OUR RATIONS--OUR DISCIPLINE--COL. WILLIAMS

ARRIVES AND ASSUMES COMMAND--COL. SMITH VISITS AND

CONSULTS WITH HIM--ANOTHER FALSE ALARM.

Reveille sounded at the appointed hour. We pulled down our tents,

packed our baggage and camp equipage in boxes (for as yet we had

no knapsacks), and by daylight were ready to move. But it took

considerable time to convey the baggage to the boats, and we passed

the interval in singing patriotic songs and listening to speeches

which were delivered by a number of comrades amid the greatest

applause. Brilliant was the prospect before us. It looked like a

march of victory. Price had been defeated at Booneville, and had fled

with a few followers to the borders of Arkansas. There was nothing

before us, we thought, but to occupy a conquered country, and while

preparing for a general advance, to wipe out the irregular parties

which straggled in his wake. A vain delusion! A single fortnight

would undeceive.

At length we formed battalion, and marched through the city to the

levee, where the two steam ferry boats, "Gate City" and "Hamilton

Belle," lashed together, lay waiting to receive us. We went aboard,

amid displays of the greatest enthusiasm on the part of the citizens,

to which our hearts, overflowing with pride and patriotism, and, as

yet, unchilled by the realities we were to encounter, sent up a long

response. At length the boats moved out amid a storm of cheers from

citizens on shore and soldiers on board, as loud as a young battle,

and when, by reason of the distance, our mutual voices could no

longer be heard, we saw the vast throng waving their adieus, and as

we sped down the willing waters, we watched with a lingering look

the brick city crowning the bold hills, recede through the driving

mist till it vanished. It was like taking the last look at homes and

firesides. To many it was the last look indeed.

And now, as if to dispel the sad thoughts which filled our minds, we

instinctively turned our looks southward whither we were going.

The day was gloomy; but it could not destroy the pleasant effect

of the scenery through which we passed. The banks on either side

rising majestically under their weight of forest, or gently receding

in green fields, with many a little cottage quietly stowed away in

their shady nooks; the beautiful towns with their fine residences

and shady walks, where, as we passed, the people waved their little

flags and white handkerchiefs in applause; the islands--like visions

of paradise upon the peaceful waters--fled past us--a panorama of

enchanting beauty.

Toward evening we arrived at the beautiful city of Hannibal, and were

quartered in two large railroad freight houses, the gravel floors of

which constituted our hard beds. The work of unloading and unpacking

our baggage furnished a scene of indescribable confusion. It was

impossible for every one to find what belonged to him; and what one

lost out of his own, he generally endeavored to make up from his

neighbor's pile,--a game in which some succeeded much better than

others. In this situation we passed the following day, which was a

beautiful one, waiting for the train to arrive which was to take us

westward over the Hannibal and St. Joseph Railroad.

We formed the acquaintance of several members of the Sixteenth

Illinois, two companies of which were stationed here. They doted

largely on the good times they were having, and how much they enjoyed

the hospitality of the good Union people of Hannibal. Toward evening

our regiment marched through the city and had a dress parade, which

was witnessed by a large crowd of citizens.

The following morning, July 1st, we got on board a long passenger

train with our effects, and, at ten o'clock, the whistle sounded

and we moved on. Passing out of the city, and all along the route,

the citizens greeted us with many demonstrations of enthusiasm. But

we already began to get tired of this. We began to do less cheering

and waving of hats, and more sober thinking about our situation and

the realities we were about to encounter. We were moving into the

enemy's country without a knapsack, haversack, or canteen,--without

a mule or wagon of transportation,--without a cartridge box or

a cartridge,--nothing but empty muskets with bright bayonets.

The country was on fire with treason. The people were everywhere

organizing to resist the Federal forces. The Union people received

us joyfully; but according to their own statements, they were in a

minority, hesitating, purposeless, powerless. It is true, that at

Hannibal they had organized three companies of home guards who had

one piece of artillery. Such was the condition of things when, almost

totally unequipped, we moved into the interior of Missouri. The risk

was enormous. It was alike a risk of safety and of reputation. The

railroad led directly through the country where Brigadier General

Thomas Harris was organizing his rebel forces. A hundred determined

men could have thrown our train off the track and captured all of

us. It is scarcely possible to conceive of greater stupidity than to

take troops into such a country in this condition. We were perfectly

helpless. We could not have withstood fifty armed men. The ignorance

of the enemy alone was our good fortune.

But we dismissed apprehensions, and occupied our minds with

contemplating the beautiful landscape on either side of us. There was

an indescribable charm in this railroad ride. It was moving upon the

enemy at a rate we had never dreamed of. The forests were full of

wild flowers and song birds whose notes we could not hear; the level

prairie sometimes stretching away in endless distance, sometimes

bounded by long stretches of forest that looked like infantry arrayed

for battle; the lofty hills and wide green bottoms--a dissolving

view, ever vanishing and reappearing. We were without rations; but

the train made frequent halts at the stations, during which we would

rush to the stores and buy whatever we wanted.

At dark the train arrived, when two companies under Captain Stone

were left as a garrison. Four miles beyond, at the bridge over Grand

River, Captain Sladden was left, with his company, C.

A mile further, the train discharged the remaining seven companies

at the little village of Utica. It was now nine o'clock at night.

Our baggage had to be brought from the cars, (and in those days we

carried as much baggage as a division does now), wood and water had

to be got, and no one knew where to get it; every thing was to be

done; the night was quite dark, and the roads full of ditches. It

was a scene, had it been possible to see any thing, of exquisite

confusion. No one, unless he has been with them, can appreciate the

inconvenience a regiment of young troops experience in camping for

the night for the first time under such circumstances. But we managed

to get through it all by midnight, and, then, lying down upon the wet

ground, without a picket posted or a cartridge at hand, we slept.

The following day we established our camp near the town on a

beautiful greensward, surrounded for the most part by young timber.

We found the water in its vicinity poor and unwholesome. It was here

that our quartermaster treated us for the first time to the luxury of

pilot bread, then known by the name of crackers, but since vulgarly

called "hard tack"--a luxury we have seldom wanted since. At night

we received four rounds of ammunition to the man, and were admonished

to be prepared for a sudden attack. Again we had no pickets posted.

A vigorous attack by a small party of men would have utterly

disorganized us. Let us thank the combination of accidents, which, in

spite of the carelessness of our commanding officers, saved us from

such a misfortune.

Before the arrival of Federal troops in this section, the rebels had

everything their own way. They had organized bands or companies at

different points, and by threats and acts of violence had terrified

the Union people into silence. But when the troops arrived, these

bands precipitately fled, and it became the turn of the Union people

to rule and rejoice. On our arrival at Utica two or three rebels

showed the cloven foot by endeavoring to escape by flight; but,

they were captured, and, after being confined two or three days in

our guard tent, they were released on taking the oath, to the great

astonishment and indignation of the boys, who proposed various

punishments instead, among which hanging figured conspicuously.

On the trip hither it had been announced that Captain John Scott, of

Company E, had been appointed Lieutenant Colonel, and Captain William

M. Stone, of Company B, Major. Lieut. Col. Scott accordingly assumed

command the day after our arrival at this point.

The Fourth of July, 1861, was a day which we shall long remember. It

was ushered in by a false alarm about three o'clock in the morning.

Two or three shots were fired by the sentinels, and the long roll

began to beat at a great rate. We had never heard it before; but we

knew well enough what it meant. We jumped out of bed quicker than if

a tornado had burst upon us. It took, of course, two or three seconds

to get awake. Where were we, and what was to pay? Suddenly the whole

thing flashed upon us. We were soldiers and in Missouri, and last

night our officer had told us to be ready for a surprise. Imagine a

soldier in this predicament! He springs first for his gun, then for

his shoes. Where are they? Some one has got them on. It is vain to

inquire after them. There is a universal clamor of voices, and no one

hears anything except what he says himself. A cool listener outside

might distinguish such expressions as these: "Where the devil's my

hat?" "Who's got my boots?" "They're right on us; didn't you hear the

guards fire?" "Hold up your gun there! You'll jab somebody with your

bayonet." "I don't load till I get orders." "There! I've lost my last

cartridge." "Fall in! Fall in."

At length he blunders upon a pair of shoes. They are not his; for

they do not fit him at all. But he gets one of them on, and suddenly

discovers that his pants should come on first. Off come the shoe and

on the pants. By this time his head and the tent begin to get clear.

He gets on his pants, then his shoes, seizes his gun and falls into

the ranks.

On this occasion our companies were promptly formed and dressed. Then

there was some shivering, some grumbling and a good deal of standing

still and waiting. Strange, thought we, that the rebels had not

charged upon us immediately. But perhaps there was none to charge.

At length amid hoarse grumblings and suppressed cursings, it was

announced that we had been victimized by a false alarm. Accordingly

we broke ranks and again went to bed. What was the cause of this

alarm? Some said the sentinels had got scared and fired at a hog;

others that the commanding officer had gotten it up to exercise the

men.

As the morning dawned, a couple of anvils (for we had no cannon)

were fired to usher in the consecrated day. It was decided that it

should be duly celebrated. After breakfast the battalion was formed

and marched to a grove near the village where the exercises were

appointed to take place. Here we were joined by a goodly number

of citizens. It was an impressive scene. On the soil of our own

country, and yet in an enemy's land, citizens and soldiers mingled

together--fair faces and gray hairs by the side of glittering

bayonets--to celebrate the birthday of our beloved country, now

bleeding and almost in the struggle of death. The Declaration of

Independence was read in an impressive manner by Lieut. Col. Scott;

patriotic songs were sung in which Lieut. Mullarky of our regiment

took the lead, and the ladies joined; an appropriate and eloquent

oration was delivered by Capt. Newcomb; martial airs were played by

the band, and a series of regular toasts were responded to with music

and cheers. We then returned to camp.

After dinner it was announced that Major Stone had invited a portion

of Col. Scott's people to join him and his in a celebration at

Chillicothe. Four companies were allowed the privilege of going.

A train of cars conveyed them thither, and from the depot they

marched to the place of meeting near the town. The exercises were the

same as those of the forenoon, except there was, if possible, more

enthusiasm. The Declaration was read by a citizen, Lieut. Col. Scott

followed with a speech which was characteristic of the man, generous,

honest, and outspoken. He was followed by several citizens who spoke

amid frequent and loud applause. Mr. Woolfolk, a young member of the

bar, was particularly eloquent. The language and manner in which he

referred to the past glory and present distress of our country was

sufficient to have touched the heart of the most remorseless traitor.

And when he appealed to the patriotism of the people of Missouri, and

pointed to the glories won by her sons under Doniphan, the applause

was beyond description. When he sat down there was a universal outcry

from the soldiers for "Major Stone," "our Presbyterian Major." The

Major mounted the stand and held for a few minutes the attention of

the assemblage. His commanding figure, his rapid and nervous style

of speaking, and his ready wit made a marked impression upon all. He

spoke with his usual invective and sarcasm, which was now happily

directed against Claib. Jackson, General Price, and their unfortunate

followers. Before he closed, the boys asked his permission to have

a dance, to which he replied that his religious scruples would not

allow him to participate in anything of the kind, but he would watch

the gap while they had the fun. He closed amid rapturous applause.

We were especially delighted with the patriotic songs sung by a

glee club of citizens, most of whom were ladies. But what pleased us

almost as well was a tangible manifestation of the hospitality of

the Union people of Chillicothe, in the shape of a substantial table

of victuals, from which no soldier was allowed to go away hungry.

We did not stay to see whether the Major's boys had their proposed

dance, nor did we greatly care to; since the boys of Company C had

this afternoon sported their new uniforms (our's had not yet been

issued to us); and the ladies had appeared quite exclusive in their

attentions to them. We returned to our camps, having experienced a

revivification of patriotism under circumstances which we shall never

forget.

The following day our long desired uniform was issued to us. It

consisted of pants and dress coat of fine and substantial gray cloth,

trimmed with blue. The pants had the blue cord down the outer seams,

and the coat had three buttons on the sleeves instead of two, marks

which on the regulation uniform indicate the rank of a commissioned

officer. In this some of the boys were disposed to think the State

designed conferring an especial mark of honor. In connection with

the coat and pants, we received the usual complement of drawers and

shirts, two pairs of each. Adding to this the hats and shoes already

drawn at Keokuk, we now had a complete uniform, unsurpassed, it was

said, by that of any regiment in the service. It was emphatically a

dress parade uniform. We prized it highly, and to preserve it, many

continued to wear their old clothing as the Colonel had directed.

But the advantage of being clothed well and in uniform was in our

case not without disadvantages. We were of course compelled to

appear on dress parade in full uniform, and with coat buttoned to

the chin. Our coats were of wool, and heavily padded, and hence in

the hot days of summer this was exceedingly uncomfortable. It is

not surprising, then, that, on one of our first dress parades after

wearing them, five men fainted and fell from the ranks. It was a

winter uniform, heavier than is ever furnished by the Government, and

totally unfit to wear on the long marches we were destined to make

during the hottest days of the summer. But the chief objection to

it was its color. It was the same as that adopted by the enemy. And

as we had heard that in one or two instances Federal regiments had

committed the blunder of firing into each other, our apprehensions

on this point were not very pleasant. This indeed proved to be an

insurmountable objection; for after the battle of Blue Mills it was

condemned, orders were issued against wearing it, _and then we were

compelled to pay for it_. But the commissioned officers drew a suit

apiece, for which, by some "hocus pocus" unknown to privates, they

got rid of paying anything. At this time, however, we had not the

slightest apprehension that it would be charged to us; and, as we now

contrasted our condition with some of the ragged troops we had seen,

we could not but feel a sense of gratitude toward the State by whose

generosity we supposed it furnished.

This feeling was in decided contrast with the feelings we entertained

toward those who managed the department of subsistence. The quantity

of rations which we drew, though perhaps as much as the Regulations

at that time allowed, was totally inadequate to satisfy our hunger.

Of unsubstantials, such as salt, vinegar, soap, and candles, we had

plenty. Our supply of meat was also more than we could consume. But

of bread, the staff of life, each man received the poor pittance

of three hard crackers a day, and of beans, the other article of

vegetable diet issued to us, each man got about a pint in eight days.

These rations were evidently insufficient for healthy, strong men,

who were drilling forenoon and afternoon, and otherwise in constant

exercise.

But we found some relief in trading with citizens who daily visited

our camp. Butter, milk and vegetables they readily exchanged with us

for bacon and coffee. And, thus, with the help of a little money, we

managed to live.

To our credit be it said, we had not yet begun to practice the

"vandalism," which, in subsequent days, called forth so many General

Orders. Hogs and sheep, great and small, ran through our camps

unmolested. Gardens grew unpillaged, and fowls roosted unharmed. Our

conduct did not give the lie to our professions, and the people had

every reason to believe that in estimating us as "vandals," seeking

spoils rather than anything else, they had been grossly deceived.

While we were camped at Utica, Col. Williams arrived and assumed

command. Of course all watched his conduct with great scrutiny. He

was the man who, more than any other, held in his hand our destiny.

His proper care would give us supplies, health, discipline, and, in

every way, promote our efficiency, good appearance and good name. His

conduct in battle would greatly influence the chances of victory and

glory on the one hand, and of defeat and disgrace on the other. It

is needless to say, that his first acts disappointed us. His efforts

to preserve good discipline were certainly commendable; but his

decisions were rash and hasty. His temper was quick and ungovernable,

and his judgment part of the time under the control of his temper.

The least mistake of a soldier was sufficient to put him into a

violent fit of rage. Of course such manifestations tended to create

a feeling of hatred and contempt toward him on the part of his men;

and so frequently did these occur that they soon came to despise,

at once, the man, his rank and authority. A state of things more

unfortunate to our regiment, and to many of its individual members,

could scarcely have occurred.

On Sunday, July 7th, our camp was visited by Col. Smith, of the

Sixteenth Illinois, which was then stationed in two detachments,

one at Hannibal, and one at Palmyra. It was rumored that he came to

concert measures with Col. Williams for a movement against the enemy.

But of course whatever was determined on, was kept a secret from us;

for which reason some of us thought that the Colonel was acting very

ungenerously toward us, and betraying a great lack of confidence in

us. Ah, we had something to learn yet.

The same night we were victimized by another false alarm, which was

got up by Colonel Williams to exercise us in forming line of battle

by night. On this occasion line of battle was formed without much

delay, when the Colonel endeavored, but with poor success, to put us

through one or two battalion manoeuvers, and then allowed us to go to

quarters.

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