D URING the reverses in the summer of 1862, President Union arms with an important victory he would exercise the war powers of the Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army and emancipate the slaves. Accordingly, after the brilliant victories of South Mountain and Antietam in September, he issued a warning proclamation to the Confederate States in rebellion, that unless they returned to their allegiance within one hundred days, he would declare every slave free within the borders of districts still in rebellion on January 1, 1863. He was punctual to his warning and issued such proclamation, declaring all slaves forever free in such States and parts of States as were still in arms against the Union. Prior to the firing upon Fort Sumter there was no disposition in the North, except with a few harmless abolitionists, to disturb the slave conditions of the South-certainly not by the Democratic party, while the Republican party had ever disavowed any interference -their doctrine simply being limitation of slavery within its then existent borders. But when the South rent the Union and drenched our land with blood in slavery's behalf, abolitionism became less odious. One battle is sufficient to educate and convert a nation to an idea, and as regiment after regimeut of Northern soldiers left for the South, thousands of them never to return, there was but little opposition in the North to the action of the President. Some discussion was excited, but it gradually died out in approval of his course. Camp Isabella, named after the Colonel's wife, who brightened camp life by her genial presence during the winter, was to be the home of the Twenty-fourth Michigan for the next four months. It was situated upon the side of a steep knoll or bank of one of the numerous ravines that break up the surface of the country around, so that no level camping ground could be found. It was about three miles from Belle Plain where Potomac Creek enters the larger river of that name, and whose expanse can be seen from the camp. Upon arrival here the men began to build winter habitations with material from the neighboring woods. These army cabins had a variety of style. Some were dug out of the steep bank; others made of small logs. They were about eight by ten feet in size and five feet high, with shelter tents for roof and gable coverings. The hillsides furnished good fire-places, which were HEADQUARTERS OF THE "TWENTY-FOURTH MICHIGAN AT CAMP ISABELLA, BELLE PLAIN, VA., finished with stone, and had mud and stick chimney. The spaces between the logs were plastered with mud which soon hardened. The hard ground answered for a floor, while bedsteads were fashioned from poles covered with pine and cedar boughs. The beds served for chairs and knees for tables. A bed was constructed on each side of the cabin, and the space between was kitchen, sitting-room and parlor in one. A hardtack box served for a pantry, and such was the soldiers' winter quarters. A bayonet stuck in the ground with a candle on top served for lighting the humble abode, which was usually occupied by three or four comrades. Here the soldier cooked, ate, slept, and passed his time when other duties permitted, waiting for the activities of the army in the spring. Friday, January 2, 1863, found many sick in camp. There was much suffering for want of food and clothes, largely the fault of rascally government contractors and inspectors who were usually in collusion to force upon soldiers articles of shoddy make-up and material. The shoes frequently had for soles scraps and shavings of leather, glued or pasted together, which went to pieces in one day's march in mud or rain. Their pantaloons and other clothing were soon in shreds or "out all around," because of shoddy material. As a result of this swindling the hospitals were filled with victims to exposure. These rascals did more to weaken the army by sickness and disease than battle casualties. Had one of these rascals been occasionally hanged or shot for this worse than treasonable conduct, it would have been as justifiable as shooting some boy deserter who was perhaps prompted to become such by sufferings caused by these rascals. But such severity of punishment was always reserved for the humble rank and file who cannot resign to evade punishment. On Monday the 5th, Generals Doubleday and Wadsworth reviewed the division, and the next day in a cold rain Companies A, D and F were sent on picket. Others took their turn at this duty during the winter. Saturday the 10th, was a gala day in camp. Lieutenant-Colonel Flanigan had arrived with three wagonloads of boxes from home. They contained cakes, gloves, shoes and a variety of parcels, which were opened with eagerness before a crowd of envious gazers. Some touching messages came also. One read, "We are all well but with sorrowing hearts. Mother wept for three days after the battle till she heard that you were safe, but now she is anxious for tidings of our two brothers from the bloody field in Tennessee (Stone's River)." Several boxes of sanitary stores came for the hospital, and the appeal of the Colonel in early winter for gloves for the men was cheerfully met. On Sunday the 11th, the regiment was formed in a hollow square to witness the promotions to vacancies caused by the recent resignations. The favored ones were called to the center and briefly addressed by the Colonel who then gave each his commission. First Lieutenants Rexford and Hoyt, and Second Lieutenant O'Donnell became Captains; Second Lieutenants Buhl and Safford, and SergeantMajor Edwin E. Norton became First Lieutenants, while Sergeants Witherspoon, Hutton, Dempsey and Humphreyville became Second Lieutenants. Cheers went up for the new officers on reaching camp. THE FUNERAL IN CAMP. The death angel continued to call at the hospital for those who were sick and far from the endearments of home friends. Sergeant Herbert Adams of H, and Charles D. Hoagland of K, were summoned to their final discharge early in the new year. A funeral in camp is a solemn affair. Though inured to death on the battle-field, the soldier who died in camp was mourned for as if a neighbor at home, by his comrades, and sympathy was shown a friend or relative who might be present. He died far away from mother, or wife and children. No hand of womanly affection smoothed his pillow, but his comrades did for him what they could and gave him a soldier's burial. In his uniform of blue, he was placed in a plain, rough coffin and sometimes in his blanket only. Over his remains were hung the stars and stripes. The solemn procession, headed by the Band with muffled drum, commenced its slow march to the grave. The solemn strains were borne away upon the chilling breeze. With reversed arms, his comrades followed and halted at the lonely grave. Amid silence the Chaplain performed his sacred duty. Prayer was offered and "Ashes to Ashes" were the words heard as the clods fell upon the lowered coffin. Volleys were fired as a salute to the dead and the departed comrade was left in peace. "The muffled drum's sad roll has beat the Soldier's last tattoo; His marches and fatigues are over, no more will he respond to awakening notes of reveille. There is sorrow in camp and at home. May the Great Comforter heal those hearts which bleed at the bereaved Michigan fireside. If a son, fond parents will mourn the vacant chair of him who sleeps for the flag in rebellion land. If a father, hear the leaves rustle and winds moan about yonder cabin door. Over the cheerless hearth within, a woman weeps and a sympathizing group anxiously ask why mamma weeps so, and why papa don't come home. "Alas! Nor wife, nor children more shall he behold, Nor friends, nor sacred home." WINTER CAMP EVENTS - ABORTIVE MOVEMENT. On the 16th, hews came of the fate of some of the missing in the late battle. Having sought a better sleeping place the night of the withdrawal, they were astonished the next morning to find the field deserted, and were soon after hailed by the "Greybacks" to lay down their arms. They were taken to Richmond where, for twenty-three days they put up at the "Libbey House," when all were exchanged but Corporal Potter and Albert Ganong, who had died of typhoid fever. James F. Raymond, leader of the Band, was a brother of Honorable Henry J. Raymond of the New York Times. The latter resolved upon a visit to his brother, and a telegram informed him that his brother's corps was at Belle Plain, but the operator put a final e to the word corps, and he at once started for his brother's supposed remains. Arriving at General Wadsworth's tent, a messenger was sent to Colonel Morrow, asking if James F. Raymond was dead. "You would not think so if you had heard him blowing his horn this afternoon," was the reply. The brothers met met with mingled astonishment and happiness. The Colonel was determined that the Twenty-fourth should not be excelled in drill proficiency, and each permanent camp brought orders for a daily exercise in the tactics. The men were trained to know the several bugle calls of camp and the more important ones of "advance" and "retreat" in battle. The policeing of the camp and sanitary habits of the men received close attention as well as their personal appearance. Divine worship was established and the Chaplain preached on Sundays as often as the elements and circumstances would permit. The several companies were drawn up in line, and such as were of a different worship were told to step out of the ranks, while the rest were marched to the "meeting ground," where a short discourse was preached by the Chaplain. When the elements precluded this exercise, the Chaplain supplied the men from tent to tent with reading matter. The shoddy contractors got in their work in poor rations no less than in shoddy clothing. Sometimes a piece of bacon encased in cloth canvas was so full of worms that the sack could be plainly seen in a continuous motion from the wriggling maggots within. Such offensive food was sent for the soldiers to eat. Boards of Review were occasionally appointed from the officers to condemn the wormy bread and bacon and decayed beef. |