The assault was ordered by General Meade, and the necessary dispositions were carefully made. General Warren, with twenty-eight thousand men under his command, on the extreme left, was to give the signal. He was to charge the enemy's right, and the attack was to be made general from left to right, taking the cue from him.

How anxiously the Army of the Potomac waited for the signal cannon of Warren! The position held by the foe was carefully chosen, and strongly entrenched, and we knew that it was a fearful task to charge across that wide plain, over Mine Run, and upon the fierce array of bayonets that glittered behind the enemy's works; yet every man was determined to do his duty.

General Warren, with a bravery that won for him the love of his soldiers, declared that he would prefer being cashiered for disobedience of orders, to sacrificing so many lives. He dared to disobey the commander-in-chief, preferring to incur the penalties of insubordination to the self-consciousness of being a wholesale murderer. All honor to him. General Meade wisely abandoned the project, which would have cost him so many lives.

The artillery firing gradually ceased, as if by mutual consent; but the sharp-shooters and skirmishers kept up an incessant fire during the day. The chaplain of the Second United States Sharp Shooters,

Reverend Lorenzo Barber, with a target rifle, climbed a tree, and picked off the "Johnnies," as they showed their heads above their works; he was severely wounded in the leg during the day.

It was so intensely cold on the night of the thirtieth, that many of the men preferred to sit up all night and keep huge fires burning.

On the morning of December first, we moved back a short distance into the woods, where we found it less bleak. Artillery was passing to the rear during the day, and long before the orders came for a forced night march, the men became well aware that the army was to retreat. Reminiscences of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville came unbidden to many a soldier; but every one seemed disposed to make the best of an unavoidable "bad fix."

At seven o'clock, leaving our bivouac fires burning brightly, we moved stealthily and cautiously to the rear. After marching an hour, a halt was made to enable the corps to mass, during which time some of the boys, unmindful of the peril of the situation, amused themselves by burning two or three houses near by. Once on the march, however, there were no more halts. The roads had been badly cut up by artillery and trains, but providentially they were frozen hard, which rendered our march more comfortable than it would have been knee deep in Virginia mud. A portion of our route was by the plank road. At

seven o'clock, A. M., of the fifth, we crossed the Rapidan once more, having marched twelve hours, and a distance of twenty-three miles, without a halt. Never was a more appropriate selection than that made by the brigade band, which, as we filed into line and stacked arms for a rest, after arriving on our own side of the river, struck up the well-known air—

"Aint we glad to get out of the wilderness!"

We marched about eight miles on the second, and, at six o'clock, P. M., halted in a grove for rest and coffee, where we were told we should remain an "hour or two." Many unrolled their blankets, and prepared to take a short nap. We remained until midnight, when we resumed our march, and at seven o'clock, A. M., of the third, we reached our old camps, which we immediately occupied. Tired, footsore, and almost worn out, we hailed with joy the prospect of a brief rest in our comfortable quarters.

Among all the reports, official and unofficial, letters from "our own" and "specials," despatches, and statements concerning our campaign, the following extract from "Dunn Brown's" correspondence, seems to the writer to be the best yet:

"DECEMBER 3, 1863.

We have just returned from our little excursion over the Rapidan; and as one might expect from such a miserable, barren, wasted, and desolate country, as we have visited, we have returned, no whit richer than we went away. Why, we find that not even laurels grow there

at this season, and so didn't pluck one, so far as I can learn. We have just dropped over, unceremoniously, to call upon Lee, and found him making so much fuss to receive us, over-doing the thing, in fact, that we wouldn't stop; but retired in disgust. We don't want too much parade made on our account. When we found that he was cutting down all the trees in his front door yard, to make an unconmonly high fence, and even digging up a large part of his farm into mounds and ditches, and such like ornamental works, over our arrival, we wouldn't countenance the thing, and came away before putting him to still more trouble."

CHAPTER XI.

THE CAMP AT BRANDY STATION,-RECONNOISANCE TO RACCOON

F

FORD AND JAMES CITY.

XHAUSTED by our marches and exposures during the brief but tedious campaign to Mine Run, we retired early on the night of the third of December, and were just com

fortably nestled in the arms of Morpheus, when the bugle sounding the "general," started us as though a shell had burst in our midst. We speedily "turned out," packed up, and at ten o'clock tents were struck, baggage loaded, knapsacks slung, and the line ready to march. The cause of the sudden movement was unknown; but it was soon rumored that the enemy had followed up our retreating column, and was about to attack us on our own ground. At midnight the marching orders were countermanded, and we slept soundly until morning.

On Saturday, December fifth, we moved about half a mile, and the men returned to the old camp, to bring