CHAPTER III.

THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.

N the afternoon of December tenth, General Berry personally inspected the regiment, and on our return to camp we found that orders had been received to hold the com

mand in readiness to move at an hour's notice. Troops had been passing for several days, and the pontoon train, which had been delayed by the unpardonable negligence of certain Washington officials, had arrived; hospitals were established in favorable positions, and on every side appearances seemed to indicate preparations for a severe engagement.

At four o'clock, A. M., of Thursday, December eleventh, we were roused by orders to pack-up and prepare to move at once. In the gray dawn of a cool December morning, we packed our knapsacks, cooked our breakfasts by the smoking ruins of our stockaded huts, and fell into line. At five o'clock the heavy roar of artillery in the direction of Fredericksburg proclaimed that the battle had commenced.

Soon the orders came, and with all the enthusiasm of new troops, who had never smelt powder, we were en route for our first fight, with six hundred and twenty-seven muskets in the ranks. After a march of about one hour we halted in the vicinity of the Phillips House, where our division hospital had been established.

Until noon the roar of artillery was incessant from our batteries, numbering one hundred and seventy guns. The enemy was strongly entrenched upon the opposite banks of the Rappahannock, and his sharpshooters, from the cover of the houses, picked off our engineers who were endeavoring to lay the bridges. A call for volunteers was made, and brave men, who knew the danger of the undertaking, gallantly came forward, and under a most destructive fire, both from the artillery and musketry of the foe,

They leaped in the rocking shallops,

Ten offered where one could go;
And the breeze was alive with laughter
Till the boatmen began to row.

Then the shore, where the rebels harbored,
Was fringed with a gush of flame,
And buzzing, like bees, o'er the water
The swarms of their bullets came.

In silence, how dread and solemn !
With courage, how grand and true!
Steadily, steadily onward

The line of the shallops drew.

Not a whisper! Each man was conscious
He stood in the sight of death,
So he bowed to the awful presence,
And treasured his living breath.

'Twixt death in the air above them,
And death in the waves below,
Through ball and grape and shrapnel
They moved-my God, how slow!

And many a brave, stout fellow,

Who sprang in the boats with mirth,
Ere they made that fatal crossing,
Was a load of lifeless earth.

And many a brave, stout fellow,

Whose limbs with strength were rife,
Was torn and crushed and shattered, -
A helpless wreck for life.

But yet the boats moved onward ;

Through fire and lead they drove,

With the dark, still mass within them,

And the floating stars above.

They formed in line of battle;

Not a man was out of place.

Then with leveled steel they hurled them
Straight in the rebels' face."

By noon the bridges were completed, and one hundred thousand infantry had commenced crossing, and formed in line of battle in the face of the enemy's strong-holds. Our division was held in reserve during the day, and from our position we could see the enemy's line of works, and watch the maneuvering

of the national forces as they took their positions for the grand conflict.

No general engagement occurred during the day; but skirmishing continued along the whole line, and the artillery firing at times was fierce. The soldiers, especially the new troops, were very eager to witness. the effect of our shot and shell, and the trees were filled with men watching the progress of the fight. At five o'clock, P. M., official notice was received that the stars and stripes were waving over the city of Fredericksburg. Soon after, we moved a short distance, and bivouacked in the woods for the night. The snow had not entirely disappeared, and the weather was quite cool, yet but few of the soldiers pitched their tents, not knowing at what hour we might march.

We were ordered under arms at four o'clock on the following morning, but remained in our camps until four o'clock, P. M., while

"All day long the noise of battle rolled."

The ground, which was frozen quite hard in the morning, had thawed so much during the day as to render the marching very uncomfortable and disagreeable. At about five o'clock it began to grow dark, and as our route was by cross roads and over fields, pedestrian locomotion was attended with many difficulties. Through mud holes and ditches innumerable, at each step sinking into the soft mud several inches,

stumbling over stumps or into the drains that intersected the fields in every direction, we marched about four miles, and encamped near the river bank.

During the forenoon of Saturday, the thirteenth, we changed position twice; and at about ten o'clock, the order was passed down the line to try our pieces. Every man examined his musket carefully to be assured that it was in perfect order, and adopting the well-known fallacy of raw recruits - snapped a cap to dry the tube. Soon after, the order came to move, and at precisely twelve o'clock noon, the Seventeenth Maine crossed the pontoon bridge, and was immediately ordered to the front, advancing over a mile at a double quick. As we came up, the rebels were just emerging from the woods in our front, in line of battle, intending to charge upon and capture one of our batteries. We were moved forward upon a slight ridge, ordered to lie down, and "commence firing." As we moved into position, the artillery of the enemy opened upon us, and the shells flew right merrily around us. This was our first experience under fire, and the sensation was not only decidedly novel, but very unpleasant. The men, however, moved nobly forward, dodging the murderous missiles as best they might. The field in which we were ordered to take position was plowed, and quite muddy. As most of the men had just drawn new clothing, it was with some reluctance that they consented to lie down; but