1 Bucks County Intelligencer, From the Ringgold (104th) Regiment. March 25, 1865 Page 2 Col. 2
LETTERS FROM OUR VOLUNTEERS.
From the Ringgold (104th) Regiment.
CARVER’S BARRACKS.
Sunday Morning, March 22, 1862.
Messrs. Editors :--You will not be more surprised at
receiving a letter from me dated here than I am writing
one. When I wrote you last Saturday evening, I expected
by this time to be bivouacked within sound of the Merri-
mack’s guns, or reclining under the shade of the orange
groves of Carolina. But in war, as well as in love or pol-
itics, “ doubtful things are mighty uncertain.” Not hav-
ing much experience in the movements of armies, I sup-
posed than when an order was given to march it was in-
tended to be carried into effect. And so believing, in
common with the others of this Brigade, I prepared my-
self to obey it. Everything not absolutely necessary was
disposed of; traps all packed, haversack supplied with
meat and crackers enough to keep body and soul together
for three days; guns got ready for service, and everything
prepared to bid adieu to Carver barracks. Everything
about camp on Tuesday night, betokened a march.
The bright camp fires before which might be seen fit-
ing the dark forms of the cooks as they prepared the ra-
tions for the next three days,—the noise and confusion—
the evidences of the presence of an unusual amount of
whiskey in camp,—the broad fires blazing on the parade
ground—all went to show that a change of habitation was
at hand. The evening, however, wears away—taps are
sounded, and quiet reigns in camp, except where it is bro-
ken by the heavy tramp of the sentry or the noise of the
cooks, who cease not their labors till dawn of day.
Wednesday morning is ushered in with the busiest note
of preparations. Breakfast is finished, the cooks serve
out to each man his three days’ rations, blankets used
over night are packed, knapsacks buckled up, and by
eight o’clock everything is ready for a march. Our de-
parture was fixed for ten. From eight to ten the whole
camp wore the appearance of a wharf just previous to the
departure of one of the California steamers when the gold
fever was at its height. Here might be seen one with
knapsack on back and gun in hand, fully prepared for a
tramp,—there another with his knapsack on the ground
making alterations in its contents,—some running hither
and thither, not knowing for what or why;—but almost
every eye turned towards Fourteenth street, along which
were expected the wagons to convey the tents and officers’
baggage. The New York 56th are forming on their com-
pany parade-ground, and the wagons belonging to that
regiment are being loaded. All of us are anxiously ex-
pecting the sound of our drums, calling us to follow their
example. A few minutes before ten an officer rides across
our parade ground; at full gallop, towards our Brigade
headquarters; he has a moment’s conversation with Col.
Davis, and is off again at the same rate of speed. Almost
immediately the news spreads along the line that our
marching orders are countermanded,” and so it turned
out to be. We are not to leave to-day—perhaps to-mor-
row-perhaps not. All is at sea again. Of course we
were disappointed. We had set our hearts on going, and
were not good soldiers enough to bear our disappointment
philosophically. Nothing could be done, however, but
submit. Orders were countermanded, why or for what
reason, was in vain to inquire. All we knew was that
such was the fact, and this was enough.
From that time to this we have been hanging on by the
eyelids, as it were. Uncertain how soon we may be called
upon to move, this has ceased to seem to us like home.—
Our orders now are to keep three days’ cooked rations on
hand. Our officers have sent away all their surplus bag-
gage, as by the last order they take with them nothing
but a carpet-bag each. We are to have no tents, and will
have to take it as best we may.
On Friday, we had a review of our division by General
Casey—some thirteen regiments in line. Quite a display
of soldiers, I can assure you . How the 104th marched and
how much they looked like regulars, I must leave you to
imagine--any remarks on that subject by me might be
considered to savor some little of self-laudation, from
which please excuse me. We were to have been reviewed
yesterday by Gen. Keys, commanding this corps, but were
not—the reason I know not.
I guess we are going pretty soon, as nearly all the offi-
cers have been getting their swords ground up. John
Mann, of the band, officiates, and it keeps him and the
regimental grindstone busy. Somebody will be hurt
when we get into a fight. Jacob Bartles, of Company A,
died on Tuesday, and his body was sent home. He was a
Christian and a good soldier. Requiescat in pace. When
we leave I will inform you. This time, however, I will
wait until we go. A PRIVATE.
CARVER BARRACKS, WASHINGTON,
March
20th, 1862.
Messrs. Editors :--Again do I resume my pen to per-
form a most pleasant task. Nothing gives me more pleas-
ure these stormy days than writing a letter for your
paper.
But I will have to make my letter short to-day, for I
have but little that is interesting to you and your readers.
I hope that by the next time I write we will be further
down in “Dixie,” as we are now lying under marching
orders. Yesterday we had three days’ rations in our
haversacks, knapsacks all packed, and forty rounds of
ball cartridges in our boxes—a heavy load for a small boy.
We were all in complete order for the march, ready to
follow our officers to Richmond or any other rebel den, so
that the boys may have a chance to use some of the forty
balls, try the Austrian rifles, and see something to shoot
at besides a target. Perhaps if we go Richmond we will
have a chance at old Jeff. I would give my life for a
shot at the secession traitor.
The cooks have just received orders to cook three days
rations more, so I think there is some prospect of our
moving, but I don’t know where or how soon—I hope in a
few days. There are more regiments encamped near our
barracks at the present time than at any former period
since we have been here. In every direction we see the
ground covered with encampments where but a week ago
all was desolate. The 56th P. V., which came from Har-
risburg about two weeks ago and encamped on Kalorama,
has since moved near our barracks. It is just six months
to-day since we were sworn into service, and we have
done nothing yet but guard each other. I hope by the
time the next six months have rolled around, the Ring-
gold boys may be numbered amongst the rest for their
bravery--may be something that the Bucks county ladies
may feel proud of. We feel proud of them for sending us
such luxuries and delicacies from home, and I think we
should do something to make them proud of us. I trust
and hope, through an All-wise Providence, we may.—
You shall hear from me again. T. C.