Plymouth. Three days' rations were ordered to be kept constantly in our haversacks which kept us in moving expectations. The soldiers know not when or where they are to go. Rumors are afloat about this, that, or something else, but scarcely ever do the men, when on the march, know their destination. Regimental inspection was ordered for Friday morning, but after standing in line all day, awaiting the inspecting officers, we proceeded to our tents. The farce seemed likely to be repeated the next day, but they finally came and the unpleasant performance was ended once more.

CHAPTER IV.

MARCH TO THE RAPPAHANNOCK.

RAIN STORM MARCH -CAMP MISERY.

A

MID a hard, freezing rainstorm on Sunday afternoon, October 26, we were ordered to strike tents and march in one hour. Our blankets and tentstrips were rolled into packs, and at 3 o'clock we moved off in the mud and slop, wet and cold. We marched back to Bakerville, thence along the edge of Antietam battlefield, by Smoketown Hospital to Keedysville; thence south across the road by which we marched to Sharpsburg. Too dark to march, the soldier in our front is scarcely seen. Filing into an open field, we bivouacked for the night, calling the place "Camp Misery." It was on a sloping field without grass, and in lying down anywhere, one soon found himself wet with running water from the hill top. Rails were soon brought from the nearest fence, fires built, and all night long while drying one side of our bodies, the other was getting wet from the drenching rain. And thus the miserable night was passed. [For route see map in last chapter.]

CAMP COMFORT CAMP HICKEY.

Monday, October 27, morning came, cold, but the storm had ceased. Hardtack and coffee were swallowed in a biting, cold wind, and we were again in line for the march. A halt was made for two brigades to pass. Ranks were broken and in a few moments scores of fires were blazing from Maryland fence rails. Our clothes were dried and we moved on happy again. After a march of ten miles over the Blue Ridge Mountains, we encamped in Pleasant Valley and called the place "Camp Comfort.”

Tuesday, October 28, eleven o'clock, found us on the road again, passing by log houses, over South Mountain, via Crampton's Gap, through Birkettsville and Petersville, halting for the day about two miles from Berlin on the Potomac. Our location was called “Camp Hickey," after Reverend Manasseh Hickey of Detroit Conference. We were in the midst of marshalled legions, six miles below Harper's

Ferry, waiting our turn to cross on the pontoons over which troops. were passing day and night into Virginia. Here our knapsacks arrived from Washington and we welcomed them for the clothing they contained. An opportunity was given for such of the Twenty-fourth as desired, to enlist in the regular army. Colonel Morrow feelingly discouraged the idea, giving good reasons for our remaining a "Volunteer," a name full of glory and honor. Not a man enlisted from our regiment.

Thursday, October 30. Our turn to cross the Potomac will come in two hours. Our sick are hastily forwarded to Washington by rail. The regiment was assembled and Chaplain Way invoked the guidance of the Lord of Hosts as we should move on in the holy cause of our country's rescue, and that our friends in far away Michigan may be permitted to welcome us to hearth and home when our task is done. Tents were struck, knapsacks slung and off we moved for the Potomac

which was crossed to the tune of Yankee Doodle. This day our lady visitors left us, and as we moved up the Virginia bank, they stood on the opposite shore of the river waving a tearful adieu.

Winding our way up the steep Virginia bank of the Potomac, we traversed once more the "sacred soil," as the Virginians boastingly termed the earth of that State. By the quickstep we made good time

over excellent roads for about eight miles, passing through Lovettsville and about 9 o'clock, encamped in a field sheltered on two sides by pine woods. Our temporary home was named "Camp Hennessy," after Father Hennessy, of Detroit. Fires were built with Virginia rails, coffee made, and soon we slept again in Secessia.

Friday, October 31. In the afternoon, after being mustered for pay, we moved forward a couple of miles and pitched our tents in an orchard, the trees of which were loaded with the fruitage of the season. The location was called "Camp Duncan Stewart," after Detroit's generous citizen whom the mob was going to hang at the war meeting on the Campus Martius, for his Unionism.

The camp was on the farm of a man who, with several sons, was in the enemy's army. This fact becoming known to the brigade, in less than twenty minutes, a large straw stack was carried away by the armful for bedding, and all out-buildings were stripped of vegetables and everything eatable, turkeys and chickens included, unless they roosted high. A guard soon ended the raiding and the plunder was ordered returned, but many a fowl with its neck wrung, and other booty were concealed beneath the men's blankets on

which they were "resting" after their two mile march, when the searching detail passed around. The men justified their conduct on the ground that we were in a secession State, and that it was no worse than the enemy treated Union men. Right or wrong it was one of the evils that Virginia had brought upon herself when she left the

THE SOLDIER'S KNAPSACK.

The soldier's knapsack forms an important part of his outfit. To him, it is like a trunk for the traveller, except he lugs it on his back or shoulders. With this filled with winter clothing, and with his shelter tent, blanket, three days' rations, canteen, belt, gun and sixty rounds of cartridges, each soldier has a load of burdensome weight. At the several halting places on the march, many articles of clothing, etc., were thrown away to lighten their burdens. Then each knapsack frequently contained articles presented by friends, such as bibles, mirrors, brushes, and home souvenirs, not to mention half a dozen ambrotypes of as many of the "girls they left behind them.” As the load, in weight a burden to a mule, is borne along amid the rays of a southern sun, article after article is tossed by the wayside, even the ambrotypes of all but the soldier's best girl. Carefully looking at each one of these, he thought

But as all these dear charmers are far away, he resolves no longer to make his back a traveling daguerrean gallery. So, selecting out the one of his best girl to keep, he says good-bye to the pictures of Miss Nettie and Miss Susan as they go humming down among the rocks

or over into some stream.

MARCH TO PURCELLSVILLE-CAMP TOWERS.

Saturday, November 1. Breaking camp at 10 o'clock, we went twelve miles on the quickstep to Purcellsville, in Loudon County. It was our hardest march so far, excepting our rain march on Sunday last. We bivouacked in a fine grove of oak and walnut trees and called the place "Camp Towers." we enjoyed in our forest home. good advice how to act in battle, and Surgeon Beech instructed us what to do in case we should be wounded, to prevent a loss of blood, saying that a bayonet could be run through a man almost anywhere without killing him, which braced up somewhat our expectations of human life. Some cannonading was heard towards Snicker's Gap, six miles away, and Company F was sent out on picket duty. During the afternoon, a council of war was held at a house near by. Generals McClellan and Burnside were present on the veranda in front, where they were observed by many for half an hour. We were ordered to keep under arms, but had a good night's rest. No more will the huge

Sunday was a beautiful day which Colonel Morrow gave the men some