ordered to provide themselves with three days' cooked rations and have everything in readiness to move promptly at the appointed time. Truly, "there was hurrying to and fro, and gathering in hot haste," each one busily making ready for his unknown journey. There was but very little grumbling about leaving our nicely arranged camp and beautiful situation, although we had but very recently received what seemed to be almost a positive promise that these should be our winter quarters.

The baggage was reduced to the lowest marching standard, and the men ordered to take nothing in their knapsacks except what they actually needed. The consequence was that a large portion of their "traps" had to be left behind, and judging from the number of officers' trunks which I shipped to Rhode Island after the regiment left, I doubt not that more dress uniforms adorned the wardrobes at home than their owners in the field. Such things look exceedingly nice on dress parade or review, but they are not altogether useful on a forced march or in a fight.

The hour of departure having arrived, the companies marched from their several streets, the regimental line was formed, and all was in readiness for a move. I must confess to an almost overwhelming feeling of loneliness as I saw the long soldierly column moving off, led by the splendid band of the Thirteenth New Hampshire, for amongst other things I thought it quite probable that before I should again see them, their ranks might be thinned by the terrible shock of battle. And so, alas! they were. But having received orders from the colonel to remain in charge of the camp, which remained as before, except that its occupants were gone, the tents being all left standing, I had no alternative but to obey. About seventy men were left in the camp, all of whom, with the exception of the quartermaster's clerk and myself, were on the sick list. Truly this was "a sick house with no doctor," for the surgeon and each of his assistants had gone forward with the regiment. We were cheered, however, just at evening by the return of our kind-hearted assistant surgeon, Doctor Prosper K. Hutchinson, now long since gone to his reward, who was sent back to remain with the sick ones until they should be able to join their comrades. The clerk and myself now appropriated the colonel's somewhat luxurious quarters to our use, and as we had plenty of provisions and a good cook, there was no occasion for us to complain of our fate.

The fourth day after the regiment left, winter set in in good earnest. Snow fell to the depth of several inches, and the weather was bitterly cold and severe. I contrasted my comfortable quarters, as I sat by a blazing wood fire at night, with those of my comrades huddled in shelter tents and shivering from cold, somewhere on their tedious march to the front, and heartily pitied, while I could not alleviate, their condition. With the aid of some of the convalescents I struck the tents, turned over the camp stores and equipage, except a small part which was to go forward to the quartermaster's department in Washington, settled my accounts with the Government, and, through the kindness of the quartermaster of the One Hundred and Eleventh New York, who loaned me the use of his teams, hauled the balance of the baggage to Alexandria, placed it on board a boat for Acquia Creek, and on the seventeenth of December took leave of Camp Casey, and with thirteen men went forward to join my regiment. It was found encamped near General Sumner's headquarters on the heights opposite Fredericksburg, which place I learned it reached after a week's march from Camp Casey, travelling upwards of sixty miles—part of the time through the mud, and part thereof through the snow and over the frozen ground. My friend, Captain Lapham, who experienced the hardships of this never-to-be-forgotten march, has already vividly described it to you in his admirable paper on the Twelfth Rhode Island.

The terrible battle of Fredericksburg had been fought three days before my arrival at Falmouth, and I knew of it only from others and from the fearful havoc which it had made in the ranks of my comrades, upwards of one-fifth of the entire regiment having been either killed, wounded, or found missing at the close of that sanguinary contest. The part taken by the gallant Twelfth has also been graphically portrayed in the paper just referred to, by one who took an honorable part therein, and it would be presumption in me to attempt a word in addition.

The great Army of the Potomac, now upwards of one hundred thousand strong, was stretched along the eastern bank of the Rappahannock from Falmouth southward to, and including, General Franklin's division, and for miles there was but little space between the regimental camps of this mighty host. Our picket line was on the left bank of the river, while that of the enemy was on the right in plain sight, and for the most part the two lines were within reach of each other's rifles. But there was little firing done, it seeming to be tacitly understood that their principal business was to mutually watch, instead of shoot, each other. Anxious to see how rebels in arms looked, I rode the length of our picket line and inspected them as best I could, from this tolerably safe distance, and became satisfied that a nearer approach was undesirable.

Our base of supplies was Acquia Creek, about fifteen miles in our rear, towards Washington, and thither I had to frequently go for our subsistence. The trains to this place were daily laden with the sick and wounded on their way to the great hospitals in and around Washington. And some of the sights that I saw in connection with the removal of our poor, maimed, sick and dying soldiers, shortly after the terrible battle, would be too painful to relate. I do not mean that they were not as well treated and as kindly cared for as was practicable under the circumstances, but that from their great numbers, the inadequate means for handling them, and the distance over which they had to be transported in crowded box cars and filthy steamboats before much could be done for them, it was impossible but that their sufferings in many cases should be of the most aggravated character.

Our situation while in front of Fredericksburg was anything but comfortable. The men lived in all sorts of rudely constructed cabins, bough-houses and even subterranean huts, having no tents save the miserable misnamed shelter tents, which were used only as roofs for the conglomerate of structures which their ingenuity had devised. The fire-places were made of logs cemented and plastered with mud, and the chimneys mainly with empty barrels set on top of each other, (the heads being first knocked out,) and they also cemented together and plastered with mud. This Virginia mud, when thoroughly dried by the fire, is almost as hard as common brick. The water which we had to use and drink here was simply execrable. I don't think it was so bad as that in the Cove Basin, but it had a very similar appearance. Each little spring and rivulet were eagerly sought and constantly used by continual streams of soldiers, necessarily keeping them in a perturbed and more or less filthy condition; and besides, it was impossible that some portion of the vast amount of offal accumulating from this great army should not find its way into these sources of our water supply. This was specially so when, as frequently happened, several regiments were encamped on the same little stream. Much sickness was caused during our uncomfortable stay here by this detestable water.

On the sixteenth of January, 1863, we received marching orders, but were directed to remain in camp,