ON FURLOUGH.
Home from the battlefield
For a brief rest;
Oh, what emotion fills
The soldier’s breast.
Leaving his northern home,
Where all is peace,
Back to the battle-plain
’Till war shall cease.
_L. M. J._
About the 18th of February I sent in an application for a furlough; I
hardly expected to get it, as all furloughs had been refused, except in
some cases, where an exceptional reason was urged, or strong influence
brought to bear. I felt, after the hard experience of the past year,
and with the prospect of another campaign full as hard, that a brief
furlough was what I needed, so I could but try for one, which I did,
and on Sunday the 26th of the same month, received a furlough for
twenty days.
We had been paid off the day previous, and it did not take me long
to prepare for the homeward trip. I said goodbye to my comrades and
left for City Point that afternoon. None of the precious time must be
wasted, so I made no stops on my journey home.
I left City Point on the morning of the 27th, on the steamer Daniel
Webster, arriving at Fortress Munroe at four P. M., and an hour later
left for Baltimore, arriving there at seven o’clock next morning;
immediately left for New York, which place I reached at six o’clock
that evening and took the train for home; traveled all night, and
arrived at New Bedford on the morning of March 1st, where I was warmly
welcomed by my friends.
Oh how pleasant seemed the dear old quiet city, after the terrible
experience of the year that is past! And how quickly passed the time
away! I paid a visit to my brother, now living in New Hampshire, and
had a very enjoyable time. I spent the remainder of my time at home
with my father, and among my friends, who could hardly do enough to
make the time pass happily away.
Then too, I found that in the north, a soldier seemed to be considered
of some account, and often strangers as they passed me in the street,
had a pleasant word for the war-worn soldier in his faded suit of army
blue.
All too soon the time arrived when I must bid my friends goodbye. On
the 16th of March I started for the front once more. I cannot dwell on
the parting with my poor old father who seemed to feel that he would
never see me again. But he was spared to welcome me home after the war
was over, for which I still feel very thankful. It would have been a
sad home-coming had he not been there to welcome me.
On my arrival in Boston, as I had a few hours to wait, I went to the
State house to take a look at our old battle-flag. What memories were
awakened by that torn and smoky piece of silk, all that was left of
the starry flag that I had followed for two long years. I felt sad at
parting, “It might be for years, and it might be forever,” and it was
not a very cheerful journey back to the front. I reached my regiment
on the 19th of March, and received a warm welcome from the boys of my
company, and especially from my tentmate, Dwight Graves, who prepared a
good supper of fried hardtack and pork in honor of my arrival, and to
which he, at least, did ample justice.
I presented him with a piece of frosted cake, sent him by a lady
friend, which he considered a rare treat, and persisted in calling
“Wedding cake!” It took me several days to settle down to army life,
and army diet, but the stern discipline and hard service soon brought
back my appetite, and my readiness to do whatever was required of me.
About eight o’clock in the morning of the 25th, we were ordered to
fall in and move to the right, for the enemy had attacked us in that
quarter; then moved to the left and attacked them; hard fighting
continued all day, without food or rest. This fight was called the
battle of Fort Stedman.
We returned to camp about midnight, where we remained until the 29th,
when we broke camp early in the morning, and marched until noon. We
stopped two hours for dinner and rest, then started again, and went
until five P. M. Here we had another encounter with the enemy, and
drove them some distance. We then moved to the front, and built works
until midnight, and laid behind them until morning, when we again moved
onward. I little thought as I slung my equipments and started on the
march, that this was to be my last day of active service.
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