breasts swelled with undue pride, for we saw in the future no premonitions of the tattered and hungry crew, who bearing our name and number, were to assist in puddling down the sacred soil of Virginia.

Within the limits of our camp was a small and old cottage house, which being entirely unoccupied, we took for our hospital use. Although nearly worthless for any purpose, the owner was hunted up and the endeavor was made to come to a settlement with him and pay rent during its occupancy, but the proprietor declined even to name a price, giving as his reason that he could get more by making a claim for it before the department, after we were gone.

At this hospital we first lost a man from our ranks by death. Hiram Varney of Gloucester, a plucky fellow, although too ill to have left the Fort, prevailed upon the post surgeon to allow him to go with the Regiment, but worn with the excitement and fatigue of the march, he fell into typhus fever and died. He was a soldier to the last. So long as he could raise his hand, he endeavored to salute his officers who came to the cotside, and when told of approaching death, he regretted that it had not been his fate to meet it in battle.

There were other incidents not so lugubrious. The waters of the Branch washed the foot of the bluff on which our camp was pitched, and when the days grew exceeding hot, Surgeon Adams advised that bathing should be prohibited through the heat of the day. Accordingly an order was published, appointing the hours for morning and evening bathing, and forbidding it at other times.

At noon one blistering hot day, two men being overtempted by the cool waters, were in the act of enjoying a stolen bath, when the sergeant with a file of the guard appeared and ordered the bathers to the shore. Upon coming to land, they found to their disgust that their clothing had preceded them to the guard tent. Attended by the sergeant and his men, the culprits were marched in puris up the bluff and through the whole length of the parade ground, running the gauntlet of the jokes and gibes of their comrades, who turned out in force to enjoy the exhibition.

For a day or two after our arrival the cows of our secession neighbors were very troublesome. Turned out by their owners after milking in the morning, a herd of some twenty-five or thirty head fed through the day along the waste grounds of that part of Washington City, and returned at evening to their cribs. Both going and coming they habitually passed through our lines, and about among the tents, causing some trouble to the police guard, and much annoyance to the men. Sentinels could not leave their posts to chase cows, and no provision was to be found in the tactics or regulations applicable to this case. A provision was therefore invented. At noon a notice was posted at the guard tent, stating that thereafter it might be presumed that any cows found within the limits of the camp were sent thither by their owners, in order that the men should supply themselves with fresh milk.

When the herd returned that evening there was exhibited a scene which defies description. Upon each cow there attended upon the average about five men, who with soothing words and quieting gestures, sought an opportunity to drain the happy beeves! A view of the camp was one of a confusing medley of cows, and of men with tin cups, slowly and quietly but almost continually waltzing about in every direction. All their exertions must have resulted in a considerable success, for the herd troubled us no more.

The guard served with loaded rifles, and when relieved were marched to a convenient spot by the waterside, where they emptied their guns one by one, firing at a target; and to encourage careful practice, he who made the best shot was allowed a furlough for the rest of the day. It was of course a matter of interest to the officers to watch the practice and the improvement of the men. On one occasion after the guard practice was ended, the Colonel desiring to test the new pieces, took a rifle from the sergeant, and by some accident his bullet hit the bull’s eye of the target. He was complimented and perhaps a little surprised by the unanimous shout from the old guard, “give him a furlough.”

The East Branch here must have been not far from a quarter of a mile wide. Our shore, as has been stated, was a high bluff, but the opposite bank was a low interval, cultivated as a market garden, and near the river stood the unpretentious cottage of the cultivator. As the colonel sat one day at his tent door, in such position that the edge of the bluff showed in sharp relief against the blue waters of the branch, there appeared coming up over the cliff, escorted by a corporal, a semblance of Neptune arising from the Sea. It was after all only the garden farmer from over the river. He had crossed in his punt, and his resemblance to Neptune was owing in part to his sailor-like form and hat, but more to the precaution he had taken to bring his paddle along with him.

His errand at headquarters was to complain that the rifle balls at the time of target practice had a disagreeable way of glancing over the water and whistling about his premises, and he asked meekly if this could not be avoided, as it “made the women-folks nervous.” Of course his wish was granted, and thereafter the guard discharged their rifles at a target in the bank on our side of the water. This compliance with his request resulted in a second appearance of our Neptune, who at this time brought two boxes of choice strawberries as a present to the commanding officer, and an expression of his thanks, to which he added the statement that there never had been such a regiment encamped near him,—“they were all gentlemen.” We wondered what kind of troops had preceded us, that we rose so high in his good graces merely because we refrained from shooting at his women-folks,—but the berries were thankfully accepted and warmly appreciated in the mess.

It was about this time that this delicious berry became so plentiful that three hundred quarts were issued as a special ration to the men.

June 24, 1862. Orders were received to move over to Alexandria, where a new brigade comprising the 32d was to be organized; the order stated that the Regiment would be met at Alexandria by a staff officer who would conduct us to our camping ground.

Alexandria being a township about ten miles in length, the order was rather indefinite, but we marched to the town where we found no brigadier, no brigade, and no staff officer, and thereupon we proceeded to make an excursion through the township in search of one of them. We soon found an aide-de-camp who conducted us to the locality intended, and pointed out the ground assigned to us, which was half a mile from any water.

This, our first real march, is worthy of notice, as being almost the only one which was made without loss by straggling, and the only one made in accordance with army regulations.

Six months afterward, when the allowance of wagons was only three to each regiment, we laughed as we remembered the twenty-three wagons which were required for this first movement of ours. Our route covered sixteen miles, when, if the order had been decently explicit, only eight miles would have been required, but we soon learned that it was one of the customs of the service to make the orders as blind as possible.

Before nightfall our camp was made and our guards posted. No military authority had ever notified us of a countersign, we therefore as usual made our own, and consequently before morning bagged a half dozen of the officers from the neighboring forts, who were ignorant of it.