Brig.-Gen. W. F. SMITH.
It was found that few or none of us had the full complement of forty
rounds of ball cartridges in good order, our stock never having been
replenished since we left Fort Washington. Our ammunition pouches being
of insufficient capacity we had been obliged to carry a portion of the
cartridges in our haversacks, which, in common with the clothes we
wore, had been repeatedly soaked by the rain.
About the middle of the afternoon we heard distinct cannonading, which
proved to proceed from a skirmish arising out of the movement of
General Meade toward the front of the enemy's position at Williamsport.
Reports were current, and credited, of another general battle on
yesterday, in which Lee had been worsted, and it was expected that it
would be renewed to-day. Thus we had on the whole a good prospect of
being present, and having a share, in the enactment of another scene in
the glorious drama. Toward sunset came marching orders. We proceeded in
the direction of Hagerstown. Some two miles or more out the road
crosses the Antietam, the bridge over which the rebels had destroyed.
We waded the stream without wetting our trowsers, and marched our feet
dry before coming to a halt for the night, some three or four miles
further on. We were now on the soil of Maryland, the bridge over the
Antietam being a little south of "Masonandicksun"; and we accordingly
set up the air of "Dixie" with Yankee variations and a rousing chorus.
Just at dark we turned into a clover field and bivouacked noiselessly,
spreading our rubber cloths and lying down, each man behind his piece,
ready to seize arms instantly on an alarm. No fires were built, no loud
talking allowed. It was like the crouching of a tiger making ready to
spring upon its prey. These hints of the proximity of the enemy were
quite enough to satisfy our curiosity on the subject, particularly as
the Twenty-Third had the right of the line. Still we stretched
ourselves for sleep without alarm, though not without emotion, and
perhaps, anxiety. A few rods off, in a hollow of the field, a cloud of
fog lay along the ground--its ominous grey just visible in the
deepening twilight--and it was plainly creeping up to envelop us in its
chilly arms. The night bade fair to be a foul one--to use a
hibernicism--and none of us coveted the post of the picket in those
black woods in front of us. But some one had to perform that trying
duty; and it fell to the lot of Company "B" of the Twenty-Third to be
detailed with others to the service, the command of the detachment
being entrusted to Captain Goldthwait. The delicacy and danger of this
service are well told in the words of the captain commanding:--
Cavetown, Md., July 12th, 1863.