"The Irish Ninth in Bivouac and Battle"
by Michael H. Macnamara
CHAPTER XVII.
How the Soldier leaves an old Camp. -- Maryland Heights. -- A Night March. -- Harper's Ferry. -- Surrounding Prospect. -- John Brown's House. -- Snicker's Gap. -- We march to Warrenton. -- McClellan superseded. -- Stoneman's Station.
WE broke camp at Sharpsburg on the 30th of October, and prepared to march to Harper's Ferry, distant about twenty-five miles. We started about seven o'clock in the evening, leaving the camp, as is usual on a move, ablaze with innumerable fires, composed of superfluous firewood, old boxes, barrels, in fact, everything burnable that can be collected, which is generally piled on until mountains of flame appear in every direction. We have noticed, as a rule, that our "boys" seemed to derive much pleasure in accelerating the work of the devouring elements, and merry groups would vie with each other in making the most extensive conflagration, while loud bursts of laughter would greet the fall of an artfully-constructed pile, driving the assembled groups in all ways, merrily shouting their satisfaction, though the smoke and sparks of fire seemingly enveloped them. Our long line of men moved rapidly across the fields for the main road, and marching through Antietam, we shaped our course for Maryland Heights. The greater portion of our way was along a deep valley, through high, shelving rocks, which towered on either side, boldly standing out in strong relief against the sky, massive and jagged, -- while here and there a shrub or stunted tree peeped out, as if clinging nervously to its strong protector.
The fires that blazed along the road, lighted by the troops which had preceded us, lit up the gigantic rocks, boldly developing the fantastic curves and crags, shaping them into giants, pygmies, and strange wild, weird shapes, and then flickering them into confused and indistinct shadows, and dark, sombre masses, at times concealing even the rough surface of the rock around and about which the reflection of the firelight played so many curious antics; in fact, our whole line of march was replete with beautiful night scenes, which called forth, at times, even from the least enthusiastic, many expressions of surprise and admiration."The mountain mist took form and limb
Of noontime hag or goblin grim."The sharp, clear air, and the exhilarating influence of the varied associations, seemed to inspire our lads with extraordinary alertness: quickly we stepped forward over the rocky road, passed narrow streams at a bound, and merrily trudging along, reached Maryland Heights about midnight, unrolled our blankets, and composed ourselves to sleep.
Early in the morning, while the sun was lingering in loving dalliance with the beautiful Aurora, our regiment was on the move. The morning was supremely beautiful; a light wind was blowing from the west, and the clear air, impregnated with the delicious aroma of flowers, gratefully saluted our nostrils, and imperceptibly seemed to endue us with vigor, so that we all started forward in great spirits, and with jokes, songs, and merry laughter, gayly went on our way, and reached Harper's Ferry about ten o'clock. As we emerged from the ravine-like road which let us out from Maryland, and left us on its border, we beheld the rapid torrent of the Potomac, rushing down before us, and its shallower parts presenting a ruin of pontoon trains, which had been destroyed by the rebels upon their rapid and disastrous retreat from Maryland. We beheld the wreck of an immense fabric, which had once been a splendid bridge, broken, dismantled, and hanging over the river, in ruins which proclaimed its former architectural beauty.
The government iron works on the Maryland side had also felt the mutilating hand of the "chivalrous" invader; but his hurried retreat prevented the disastrous consummation he so devoutly wished; and while one wing of the extensive range of buildings lay in inglorious ruin and confusion, the other stood up, tough, strong, and mighty, untouched, like the fabled Achilles after his encounter with Hector.
We looked across the Potomac, which is here about two hundred feet wide, and beheld the ruins of Harper's Ferry. We gazed around; on the Maryland side there lay heaps of railroad material, in indescribable confusion -- sleepers, heaps of broken cars, piles of brick and stone, and every kind of building material, which the rebels had vainly attempted to destroy, but which, owing to the huge quantities, they had only succeeded in scattering about. Bolivar and Loudon Heights arose before us in their stateliness and grandeur, and painfully reminded us of the disgraceful surrender that had been consummated there but a few days before, which had allowed the decimated, routed army of Lee to evade the grasp of the victorious McClellan.
A long, dirty, dusty street reached along close to the margin of the river, through which a railroad track was laid; a few straggling wooden houses were located on one side, and every one of these shanties boasted a sign, the burden of which was, "BRED AN PI HERE TO SELL," the parsimonious inhabitants charging the most exorbitant prices for the slimmest kind of pies, and introducing the purchaser to a species of small beer termed "pop," which, when it had ceased to effervesce, left the tumbler in its original state -- empty ! This place we thought might with propriety be termed "the withered edge of Maryland." The hot noonday sun streamed down upon us, as we sat by the railroad track waiting our turn to cross over the pontoon bridge which was laid to the other side. After clambering with much difficulty, we reached Harper's Ferry proper; and, losing the river from our view, saw the spot where John Brown, of martyred memory, made his last stand when hunted by the militia of the witless Wise.
The house, a small wooden building, was fast falling to pieces; at one end the remains of an immense chimney could be seen, which, in its original state, must have been larger than the dwelling itself. A broken fence surrounded the ruin where the gallant Brown, with a few comrades, defied a large number of the militia of Virginia, but was overcome by superior force, and reluctantly compelled to yield. The main street was composed of numerous brick houses, nearly all of which had been converted into hospitals, barracks, and provost marshal's offices; patented wooden houses were set up on the vacant lots, from which sutlers peddled their shop-worn goods, doing a double trade, taking in soldiers and greenbacks at the same time. Furloughed and wounded officers and men were staying throughout the town, and we saw many stragglers belonging to the regiments which had preceded us. Resuming our march, we left Harper's Ferry behind us. Our regiment -- in fact, the whole army -- were in the finest spirits, flushed as they seemed to be by their recent victories; and under the leadership of their favorite, General McClellan, they began to feel invincible. We passed regiments on the road as light-hearted and cheerful as ourselves, and at nightfall we encamped a few miles from the town.
The next morning we resumed our march, and in the afternoon reached a place called Snicker's Gap, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and, establishing ourselves, remained there for four days, expecting that the enemy would endeavor to force the passage of the gap. This movement, however, was not attempted; owing, we suppose, to the large force upon the north side, where a considerable part of the army of the Potomac was in position. The progress of the rebels having made the defence of the "Gap" of little or no importance, we prepared to move; and started on the morning of November 6, and after wearily marching for about three days, we arrived at Warrenton, Virginia, where we encamped on the 10th on November, 1862. Here the army of the Potomac received information of the removal of General McClellan, who was superseded by General Burnside. This information, though it caused considerable disappointment, did not in the slightest degree affect the morale of the army.
From Warrenton we soon afterwards marched to Hartwood Church, and from thence to Stoneman's Station, near Falmouth, Virginia. These marches were devoid of interest, save in the following laughable incident, which we relate to show the legal ingenuity of the soldiers when foraging: --
When General Butler called slaves "contraband," he did the nation a service which is, I think, as yet unappreciated. That word expressed to the government and people a principle upon which to act in dealing with the slaveholders. That is a serious matter. This is a true one. The soldiers were really anxious, inasmuch as chickens would be seized any how, as occasion required, to find some principle upon which the seizure could be made. There was a Butler in the ranks, and, growing great with the occasion, he solemnly pronounced that all the chickens in Virginia were wild.
In pursuance of this law of war, a soldier, boldly penetrating a Virginian farm-yard, seized and put firmly under his left arm the soundest and blackest pullet in the lot. Hearing the noise consequent upon the seizure of her wild fowl, the woman of the house rushed out, exclaiming, "You miserable Yankee ! You've got my favorite. You're no gentleman." The soldier took the position of "front," his feet apart and at a wide brace; then thrusting his two hands into his pockets, and shifting a little the position of his left arm, so as to assure himself of a safe purchase on the chicken, as Moore says of Feramorz in Lalla Rookh, "he thus began:" "Madam, your first proposition is not true; your second may be correct; your third I admit; but while I admit that I am no 'gentleman,' I want you to acknowledge that I am a d___d good judge of poultry !"
The cold weather now was well upon us, and, after the hard marching and fighting of the summer, we expected soon to be ordered into winter quarters.
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