1      Bucks County Intelligencer,  From the Ringgold (104th) Regiment.  May 20, 1862  Page 3  Col. 4      1

 

LETTERS FROM OUR VOLUNTEERS.

From the Ringgold (104th) Regiment.

IN CAMP, Friday-Evening, May 9th, 1862.

This morning at 7 o’clock, agreeably to orders, we

pulled up stakes at Fort Magruder, near Williamsburg,

and marched nearly north about 10 miles.  About four

this afternoon we came to anchor.  The reason of our be-

ing so long on the road was that we were stopped about

four hours.  Nothing peculiar occurred during our march,

which lay directly through Williamsburg, and through a

fine country, thickly wooded, but presenting somewhat the

appearance of Old Bucks.  Grain looks well, and the size

of the fields makes one think of harvesting with a reaper

rather than by hand.  Such fields of grain I never before

saw.  The buildings are generally small, and do not make

much show ; there are no barns of any account.  Some farm-

houses, however, are respectable, and one on the farm

where we are encamped, at which General McClellan has

his headquarters, looks very much like a thriving farm-

house at home.  How the General came to be with us I

don’t know, but he is here.

Fort Magruder, where we were last encamped, is about

two miles east of Williamsburg.  While there, I took a

walk over the battle-field, and must say the sights that

presented themselves were anything but agreeable.—

Whilst one shrinks with horror at first from the sight of

death in its many hideous phases, practice soon accustoms

one to it, and by the time I had finished my walk I be-

gan to look upon dead rebels and dead horses very much

in the same light.  This was a hard-fought field.  The

loss we suffered will never be known—it must from the na-

ture of the ground have been heavier than that of the en-

emy.  The line extended about half a mile, and as I

walked over it, every few paces I would meet the dead

body of some rebel.  In a trench in a wood seven bodies

laid within a few feet of each other.  Here the fight had

been the most severe.  Our dead had been mostly collect-

ed and buried the day previous, but even then every few

yards I would find some Union soldier who had sealed

with his blood the crushing out of this rebellion.  The

long line of graves also testified to the extent of our loss.

I mentioned in my last the hidden shells planted by the

rebels in the roadways.  These, as discovered, are marked

by our men to prevent damage.  As I was walking down

the road toward the battle-field, I heard some one on the

other side cry out suddenly, “ Look out ! you are close on

to a shell !”  Looking down I saw the mark within six

inches of my foot.  It did not take me long to get away

from such a neighbor.

On Wednesday I took a walk to Williamsburg.  This is

one of the oldest towns in the State.  It is spread over

more ground than Doylestown, but is not so compactly

built—the houses being mostly of frame, with yards and

considerable shade.  The town looks antiquated and fin-

ished, but respectable.  Some houses are quite handsome. 

The principle public building is William and Mary Col-

lege, of brick, standing at the head of the town—quite

large and imposing in appearance.  This is the oldest

College in Virginia—built 1771; rebuilt 1852.  In front

stands a marble statue and monument erected by Virginia

in 1771, to Lord Berkely—one of the Colonial Governors. 

The Lunatic Hospital is a very large building, capable of

accommodating 300 patients.  This and the College, and

in fact all the public buildings and many of the private

dwellings, are now occupied as hospitals.  In the court-

house I saw the body of Col. Ward, of the rebel army.—

On it was pinned—“Col. C. W. Ward, Second Florida

Volunteers, Tallahassee.  Any gentleman who will give

to this body a Christian burial, will receive the everlast-

ing gratitude of his friends.”  He was an extraordinarily

fine-looking man.

Saturday Evening.—We are now 8 miles from West

Point.  We go on to-morrow, we know not where.

NEAR WEST POINT, Va., May 11, 1862.

Messrs. Editors :—Onward we are marching ; yes, on-

ward through mud, dust, rain and sunshine.  We have

the pleasure of enduring it all, with a fine prospect of soon

being upon the enemy, if they don’t run too fast for us.—

If they can run faster than the Bucks county boys we

will have to let them go ; but we will try and not let them

go too far, or else they will keep us trotting all summer. 

I never saw such things as these rebels are,—evacuate all

their strong forts at Yorktown and near Williamsburg,

and run, just because us Yankee boys of the North were

after them.  Well, I guess it is the best thing they can

do though, if they want to escape the balls that the 104th

are carrying.  But enough of this, and a little about our

trip, if it is getting late.  I have had no paper, no stamps,

no ink, no pen, until last evening.  Our knapsacks and

writing materials have all been left at the Pine

Grove, a week ago to-day in somewhat of a hurry and

with the expectation of taking the forts in front of us, at

Lee’s Mills; but when we arrived there not a rebel was to

be seen; they had got scared, and left sometime during

the night before we arrived.  In front of their forts they

had planted their infernal traps for us.  But after there

was one went off, and killed a member of the 52d P. V.,

and wounded four or five others, we were mighty particu-

lar were we trod.  We were soon inside of the fort, and,

found it to be Fort Sands, by some papers that they had

left behind.  We found papers showing that there had

been Mississippi and Louisiana, and the 1st North Caro-

lina Artillery Regiments there.  By noon we found that

they had evacuated Yorktown; and we started off the pur-

suit of them at a step between quick and double-quick.—

We travelled at this pace all the afternoon till sunset,

when we halted and encamped in an apple orchard for the

night.  It commenced raining, therefore we had but lit-

tle sleep.  Early in the morning we took up our line of

march again through mud and rain.  Now, on this said

day, it was enough to make any one feel that he was do-

ing all he could for the love of his country, if not a little

more.  While some were so nicely fixed in their quiet and

peaceful homes in Bucks, we were trudging through rain

and mud, with our garments wringing wet and our panta-

loons stiff with mud from top to bottom.  We were march-

ing along at nearly double-quick, and the roads looked

nice and smooth with mud about a foot deep, when down

I go into a hole nearly burying me alive.  But I crawled

out and went on with the expectation of having a fight

before morning.  But it happened that we did not, al-

though we came near to it.  We marched till about nine,

o’clock; when we halted for the night, close by a rebel

fort that had just been taken.  It still continued raining

and here we stood shivering with the cold, without even

a morsel to eat, the whole night long, what to do we knew

not—too wet to lay down, and nothing dry to cover us.—

Oh, it was a terrible day and night—too terrible to relate

to you , my friends ; but I cannot help it.  I will not tell

any more, but leave the rest for you at home to judge how

we felt.  Did you think of us?  I wonder how many.

The next morning we marched onward about a quarter

of a mile, to a place where a bloody battle was fought the

day before, but a victory won.  Here at this fort (called

Fort McGruder), we encamped for two or three days.—

Here are a lot of rebel barracks.  The rebels were in

such a hurry they left a quantity of flour behind, which

our boys captured and baked it into cakes to keep from

starving.  The barracks were used for a day or to for

the rebel prisoners and our wounded soldiers.  They have

been since removed.  I will not attempt to describe the

battle to you, for I cannot.  I took a walk around the

battle-field.  They were busily burying the dead and

carrying off the wounded ; but I saw many, many a one

yet unburied.  The loss, I understand, is heavy on both

sides.  We saw quite a number of darkies that built the

forts.  It was quite interesting to listen to them.  They

say they built those near Williamsburg last July.

On Friday we again took up our line of march towards

West Point, passing through Williamsburg.  This is quite

a nice-looking place.  Some pretty dwellings there.  But

I have no time to tell you any more at present about the

place.  We marched on until we came to a large slave

plantation owned by a woman whose name is Mary Picet

or Picket.  She owns a number of slaves.  One of the dar-

kies said she gave an enormous sum of money towards

building those forts to protect Williamsburg.  “ She’s

strong Secesh; but here brudder so strong Union man had

to leave; but she Union now.”  Here we encamped for

the night, and in the morning we were off again, and

marched to where we now are, in an oats field, three or

four miles from West Point.  The oats looks well; also

the spring wheat.  They were about planting corn when

they were disturbed, and were compelled to leave their

crops.  So much for being Secesh.  I must stop, or else

the letter perhaps will not go for a week, although I could

write as much more.  To-day being the first day of the

week (the Sabbath), we rest.  More in a few days, if I

have time.    Good-bye.                                  T. C.