Headquarters 53d Penna. Vols.,
Camp Near Brandy Station, Va.,
Wednesday, Nov. 25th, 1863.
Messrs. Editors:–“When in the course of human events it becomes necessary” for Gen. Meade to advance why, we presume he
will move forward. Yesterday morning at 3 o’clock, we were all fondled up in our blankets,–the morning air was cold, and just
about nine-tenth asleep. “All through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.” And the cat was asleep; for we
have a dear little cat. It was captured on the picket line. If it was a black cat we would class it as contraband of war and at once
issue letters of confiscation, but as pussy is white as the driven snow, we simply consider it as being transferred from the rebel
lines to within ours. Pussy is very discreet and maintains a strict silence with regard to matters in the notion of Jeff; but we have
reason to believe that she is a good Union man at heart and don’t like snakes. It was noticed that tears stood in pussy’s eyes when
some person casually mentioned the name of Horace Greeley. The question arises, categorically, do cats read the Tribune? Some
one said that our cat belonged to “Brown.” How can a brown man own a white cat? The idea is beneath our scorn.
But to return to our tent where we were when we commenced. It was 3 o’clock in the morning when we heartd some
one approach the tent. Then a voice that we recognized at once as belonging to Col. Brooke’s fat Orderly, said “Adjutant.” The
Adjutant snored, and we were asleep–apparently. “Adjutant?–The Adjutant snored. “Hello, Adjutant.” The Adjutant snored. “I
say, Ad-ju-TANT!” The Adjutant wakened up. “Here’s a circular to copy, sire, marching orders,” says the Orderly. The last
two words of the Orderly’s remark at once put the Adjutant in a good humor–of course. “March at 8 o’clock.” Ah, well if it’s
march at 8 o’clock we are good for a few hours more sleep, and we rolled over. In the meantime the Adjutant went to the tents
of the Company Commanders, and with each one held an interesting conversation pretty much as above.
Before daybreak we had everything packed up, tents struck and were ready to “fall in.” The sky was gloomy; it rained.
It rained a great deal. We began to think of Burnside, and how he stuck in the mud. Did Meade intend to stick in the mud. The
sky was surely not bright. We began packing the baggage in the wagons and the rain kept descending. Cheers were heard on
the right of the 3d Division, and the cheers were following the lines of that Division. Something was up.
The boys declared in a rather loud manner, that “Porter was going in on the right.” Perhaps the reader does not know
what the expression means. It originated as follows:–On the afternoon of June 26th 1862, Gen. Porter’s Division occupying the
right of the Army of the Potomac, then besieging Richmond, advanced to Mechanicsville. This was deemed a great success,and
so it was–providing the position could have been held. In the evening or rather in the night, after the cannon was hushed, and
Porter was perhaps dreaming of what he sould have for dinner in Richmond the next day, a congratulatory order was read to
the troops. If I am not mistaken the order said in these words, that “our success was so great that the Commanding General
looked forward to a speedy occupation of the rebel Capital.” This was excellent news. This was glorious news! In the camps no
drums were permitted to be beaten or bands allowed to play, but on the reception of this news, every drum began to rattle;
musicians, whose horns had been muzzled for weeks began playing national airs. Everybody cheered and was happy. Men got
out of their beds and jumped about, and threw up their caps and cheered. There was a general jollification over this promising
news. The next day instead of marching triumphantly into Richmond, we began the severe and bloody retreat to the James
River. We were badly sold when we made merry over “Porter’s going in on the right.” Since that memorable date, whenever
cheering is heard in any part of the camp, the boys invariably say that “Porter is going in on the right.” The moral is an old
maxim, “Don’t hello until you are out of the woods.”The rain still descended. The orders to march were countermanded and we again pitched our tents.
Saturday, Dec. 5th, 1863.
We were about to write you a long letter all about how we did not march, but our pen had scarcely written that we re-
pitched our tents, when orders were again received, fixing the morning of the following day (Nov. 26th) as the day on which
the army would move. This time there was no countermanding of orders. We moved out of camp at 8 o’clock, A. M.,
Thursday, Nov. 26th; the column moving towards Germania Ford, on the Rapidan River. Our Brigade led the advance of the
troops moving towards this Ford. We arrived at the river about ten o’clock. Some rebel cavalry were on the southern bank of
the stream, but they left very suddenly and made no opposition to our crossing. The pontoons were up, and the Engineer Corps
began constructing the bridge. Our Brigade was ordered to ford the river and hold the opposite bank to cover the pontooners
while putting down the bridge. The water was about three feet deep. The bottom of the channel was very rocky, and while
crossing a number of the boys slipped and fell into the stream–and were completely immersed. This wading the stream was
rather a cool operation when the weather was so cold that the river shore was fringed with ice. And then it was so very
comfortable to march the remainder of the day with wet clothing–wet from the waist down. It was a glorious opportunity to
catch a “death cold.”
But soldiers seem to be made of adamant. We marched several hundred yards up a plank road when we came to the
enemy’s first line of entrenchments. Colonel Brooke formed the Brigade in line behind these works. The 53d Pa. Vols., and the
2d Del. Vols. Then developed a skirmish line in front of the entrenchments and advanced, following up the Fredericksburg
plank road. While the Brigade was thus shifting position, the pontoon bridge had been laid down and the troops of the Corps
were defiling over the river. At this point the rebels had constructed two excellent lines of works but they failed to occupy them
in time to delay or prevent our crossing at this Ford. We were deployed as skirmishers until mid-afternoon, when the regiment
was assembled on the plank road and moved forward about three miles, to a place termed Three Mile Run. We bivouacked for
the night in line of battle.
Early on the morning of the 27th we were in line–and the column began moving out. We left the plank road and
passed over rather a muddy by-road for several miles–coming out finally on the Orange Court House pike. The second
Division was in the advance. The skirmishers of the enemy were met near Robinson’s Tavern, and driven back about a mile
and a half. At noon the skirmish line was about half a mile beyond the tavern. The country we were in, and that we passed
through coming from the Rapidan, was one dense woodland and the region is known as the “Wilderness.” Gen. Warren
deployed heavy skirmish lines to the right and left of the Orange Road; and the entire line was constantly exchanging shots
with the enemy. At moments it sounded like a general engagement, so sharp was the conflict. Central Headquarters was at the
tavern. Here there was a good view of a portion of the rebels and our skirmish line. Beside the tavern, on the road, two pieces
of a Pennsylvania battery were stationed. Whenever a cluster of rebs could be seen, the battery boys would plant in the crowd a
shell or two–the rebs would disappear instanter. During the afternoon several regiments of our Brigade were ordered forward to
support the skirmish line. During the night we bivouacked near the tavern. In the night time everything was quiet on the lines,
not a shot was fired The next morning, the 28th, we moved forward about a mile and a half. Under cover of darkness the rebels had drawn
in their lines and fell back on a strongly entrenched position on the heights of Mine Run. Our regiment was in position on the
right. The skirmishers were busily engaged. The 6th and 3d corps had come up and were getting in position. The enemy
occupied in our front an excellent position, naturally strong. This line they were busily occupied in fortifying–we could see
them plainly–working like beavers. Towards sunset a lively cannonading was kept up for several hours. That night we
bivouacked within range of the enemy’s musket.
Before sunrise on the morning of the 29th we were marching. The object of the movement was to get on the enemy’s
right flank and rear. The corps made a detour of six or seven miles around to do this. Near New Hope Church on the plank road
to Orange Court House, our Division which led the advance on this day, was deployed as skirmishers. The 53d was in skirmish
line near the plank road. An advance of a few hundred yards drew upon them the fire of the enemy, and soon the firing along
the entire line became brisk. Our line advanced. The enemy slowly gave way. The regiment advanced to within three hundred
yards of a rebel battery. This battery shelled our line previously, and our regiment was immediately under its fire. Here eight
men of the regiment were wounded–four of them severely. Our troops not being checked by the shells, the enemy withdrew his
battery. By sunset our lines were advanced to Mine Run, and the enemy was withdrawn to his entrenched position beyond the
Run. The troops rested on their arms all night.
The battle was to open at 7 o’clock on the morning of the 30th by a heavy artillery fire on the enemy’s left. At 8
o’clock, A. M., Gen. Warren commanding the left wing was to charge the enemy’s entrenchments in front of our left and thus
turn Lee’s flank. On the morning of the 30th everything was in position as required by the programme for the day. On our right
more than one hundred pieces of artillery were plunging death and destruction within the rebel lines. Eight o’clock came and
passed, but all was apparently silent on our left. At ten o’clock Gen. Meade joined Gen. Warren–other commanding officers
assembled, and it was concluded that the enemy was rather strong to fight, and also for other minor reasons, it became evident
that we had better go home beyond the Rapidan before the frost pinched our noses. So far as we know the army believes that
Gen. Meade acted like a wise and prudent General in refusing to give battle to the enemy. Lee’s position could only have been
carried at an immense sacrifice of life. The weather weas severe that one half of our wounded would have frozen to death on
the field before they could be removed. It would have, also, been a victory dearly bought without a commensurate benefit
accruing from it. Doubtless the object of the movement was accomplished without a battle.
The troops on December 1st were occupied in throwing up earthworks in front of their position. At sunset the corps
began moving in retreat to the Rapidan. We remained with Capt. Mintzer’s Detachment, which brought up the rear of the
corps, and, which New Hope Church near midnight. The night was intensely cold. We marched on the plank road. All along
the route fires were kindled. Whenever the column was halted the boys built fires to keep themselves warm. Sometimes the
fires would just be kindled when the column would move on. These almost countless fires, set fire to the leaves of the forest
around and the wind spread the flames in every direction, our army left in its tracks miles of woodland with crackling fires.
Early on the morning of the 2d we arrived at Culpepper Mine ford, and immediately re-crossed the Rapidan on a
pontoon bridge. This ford is several miles below Germanna Ford, where we forded the river on the advance. The troops were
rested several hours for breakfast, when the march was resumed. At nightfall the troops were in their old camps near Brandy
Station. The eight days campaign, what may be called a semi-reconnoissance, was over. Our retreat to the Rapidan was
unmolested by the enemy. December 5th, Lee made a show of crossing in force at Raccoon Ford. Meade was on the qui vive.
Our cavalry, Gen. Custer’s Division, repulsed the enemy and forced him to the south side of the Rapidan.
We broke camp and moved about three miles to a knock-kneed village called Stevensburg. The entire corps was
camped on high hills, where the cold winds bleak and dreary whistled round us. There was no doubt an object in thus
positioning us, what it was, we could not exactly see. Unless it was to give us a splendid view of the country for miles around;
but a beautiful landscape is not properly appreciated when the observer must freeze ginfers and toes for the view. On the 7th
we moved a few miles into the woods. The troops are engaged in putting up winter quarters. We have no direct orders to do so,
but that is the understanding. Nor are we certain that operations for the year are closed, we hope that they are. The soldiers
need rest.
[Montgomery Ledger, December 22, 1863]
