BRANDY STATION AND ALDIE.
Oh, tell me not their lives are lost,
Who to the death-shots yield,
But rather, write beneath their names,
“Promoted on the field!”
_Unknown._
After the battle of Chancellorsville, the thirty-second Massachusetts
was detailed for guard duty on the railroad to Acquia Creek. We
remained here but a short time however, for northward moved the enemy,
and we on after them; at Brandy station on the 9th of June, we caught
up with them, and had a sharp engagement, but failed to stop the march
into Pennsylvania. Crossing the river towards Culpepper Courthouse,
past Morrisville, on to Manassas, camping on the old battle ground on
the night of the 16th.
We had a tough march the next day, travelling more than twenty miles;
no water was to be had, and we suffered greatly with the heat and
dust. Our regiment started in the morning with two hundred and thirty
men, and camped that night with one hundred and seven, of which number
I was one, and this was doing better than any other regiment in our
division. Hundreds of men dropped by the roadside, fainting and dying
from exhaustion; four died of sunstroke. We heard indications of battle
all day from the direction of Aldie, and I suppose this forced march
was thought necessary, but I can truly say that I much preferred all
the horrors of the battlefield to these terrible long marches, when it
seemed impossible to keep up. To drop out was to lose sight of your
regiment, and perhaps die uncared for, or be gobbled up by guerrillas,
who were plentiful all through that God forsaken country.
To be captured by guerrillas was sure death or imprisonment, which to
me seemed worse than death on the field. It was during this march that
I acquired the nickname of “Mosby,” after the noted guerilla Colonel
Mosby, who was then making his dashing raids through that region,
causing his very name to be a terror to all the inhabitants thereof.
I had picked up from the road where it had been dropped, among other
impedimenta by the rebels we were pursuing, a gray cardigan jacket,
which, being much better than the one I had worn so long, I had put on,
and thrown away the old one. I wore it into the battle of Gettysburg a
few days later, and had several narrow escapes from being shot for a
rebel by our own men, on account of its color. As it was all I had, I
had to wear it, for we could draw no clothing on the march.
Some little time after the Gettysburg fight, I was on guard at the
colonel’s tent, and he noticed my gray jacket, and enquired why I wore
it, and I told him it was all I had.
“I’ll see that you have another, my boy,” said the colonel, and soon
after, my captain provided me with a new blouse, which I gladly
donned, discarding the gray one, which had but one fault and that was
its color. I could not discard the nickname however, by which I am
best remembered by some of my old comrades, who will never forget how
I fought the Johnny rebs at Gettysburg, with a confederate’s jacket
on.
At Aldie occurred the great cavalry fight under Generals Pleasanton,
Gregg and Kilpatrick. What a splendid sight it was! An event even in
our eventful life to see those brave men move in battle line, with
sabres drawn, steady as though on dress parade! Through the enemy’s
line they went, dealing death right and left. Not all of them came
back, but those who did, came with victory perched upon their banners.
Then on we went, across the state of Maryland, encamping at midnight
July 1st at Hanover, Pennsylvania, after a forced march of sixteen
hours. By this time we were about worn out with so much marching and
fighting, but there was no rest for us yet; for we had hardly dropped
down for the night, when an aid arrived with orders to march directly
to the aid of the First corps, which was fighting the whole rebel army
at Gettysburg. So again we took up our weary line of march, pressing
forward as fast as possible to the aid of our comrades. As we drew near
Gettysburg, word passed down the line that General McClellan was again
in command of the army.
How we shouted! How we cheered, and we moved on with quickened step,
believing that our beloved general would lead us on to battle, and to
victory! It was a false report, perhaps sent down the line to cheer our
hearts and quicken our lagging feet. It served the purpose, but it was
a sad disappointment, when we learned the truth.
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