On the 18th of June, 1863, it having been definitely ascertained that the rebel horde had invaded Pennsylvania in force, the call of the President was issued to the Empire State, and her militia, leaving everything as it stood--their books unclosed, their ploughs in the furrow--hurried eagerly forward in response, to unite in the defence of our sister State. All day long blue and gray uniforms were dashing frantically backward and forward through the streets, and in and out of the various armories of the city, in search of essentials found missing at the last moment; and in military circles the flurry and commotion were indescribable, particularly at the Palace Garden in Fourteenth street, where the Twenty-second regiment N. G., S. N. Y., assembling in great haste, were preparing to be "off to the war" on their second campaign.
At last the manifold preparations were completed, and amid tumultuous cheering, the fluttering of handkerchiefs, the ringing of bells, and the thousand bewildering noises of an enthusiastic crowd, the regiment formed and marched away--where to, none knew and none cared, so long as they were doing their country a service.
That night was spent in the cattle-cars of the Camden and Amboy Railroad, and the next morning found us entering the City of Brotherly Love, through which, after being fed and washed at the immortal "Cooper Shop," we took our way for the capital of the state, cheered on by an enthusiastic ovation from the citizens, whose noble behavior and unstinted hospitality to the thousands of soldiers who have passed through the city since the beginning of the war, has obtained for Philadelphia the well-earned reputation of being the most patriotic city in the Union.
The distance from New York to Harrisburg, I believe, may be usually traversed in about eight hours, but (as there was a great need of men), the regiment was kept precisely three days in cattle-cars before being deposited at its destination, no insignificant omen of the fate that awaited its members in the future. Finally, after an immensity of tribulation, we got to Harrisburg, and spent the last of these three days quietly lying alongside of Camp Curtin; this camp, so celebrated in Pennsylvania annals, is a wide level expanse, in the vicinity of the city, and was then crowded with the newly-raised militia, whose general appearance and condition did not inspire us with that exalted idea of their efficiency that the newspapers seemed to have; on the contrary, it seemed to us, that a more indifferent, lazy, uncouth-looking set never was seen outside of rebeldom; but as their ideas of hospitality toward us were demonstrated in copperhead talk and chaffing us with hard names, these views may be prejudiced. At some distance from Camp Curtin, however, were a couple of batteries and some troops from Philadelphia, who really looked like soldiers, and whose appearance inspired the "Yorkers" with a feeling of respect which further acquaintance did not dispel.
But notwithstanding the society, the time hung heavy on our hands, and it was no small relief, when, during the latter part of the afternoon, we were sent across the Susquehanna, some of us into the fortifications, and the others, including the Twenty-second, to camps in the different places near the river, to protect the various approaches and fords in the neighborhood of the city.
It was growing dusky as we arrived at our selected camp-grounds, and, as it was a singular characteristic of the climate of Pennsylvania during our brief sojourn, that darkness is synonymous with rain (for the sun scarcely ever went down before the elements were imitating the movement), it accordingly commenced to rain, and by the time it was fairly dark a heavy storm was raging.
Fortunately, an immense empty barn was at hand, into which the regiment wedged themselves, like sardines in a box, so tight, in fact, that those unfortunates who happened to find themselves under a leak in the roof--and there were many such--had to remain quiet under their douche, and take it coolly for the whole night. The Eleventh and one or two other regiments, being without either barn or tents, were obliged to sleep in the woods all night without any protection whatever, and were consequently regarded as suffering martyrs by all the rest of us, who wondered how they could possibly have lived through it.
Little did those think who shuddered when they talked about sleeping in the rain without cover, that in a very short time they would be doing that very thing themselves, and come to regard it as a mere matter of course, inconvenient to be sure, but so commonplace as to be hardly worth mentioning.
The next morning, having pitched our tents, we entered upon the usual routine of camp life, humdrum to the last extent. Hot as an oven, stupid and monotonous as a prison, the first few days passed quietly enough. It is true that the roofs and spires of the capital of Pennsylvania, which we had come to defend, were in plain sight, but a very few visits there, combined with the chilling reception we received in passing through it, put an effectual quietus on our hopes of the good time that was coming. Little bills, and big stories of little bills, for necessary purchases; fifteen cents for a cup of (rye) coffee, and other things in proportion, the general indifference of the inhabitants as to which side won in the contest which was impending, and the other annoyances which have been so fully ventilated in the New York newspapers, in a very short time destroyed the clamor for passes, and rendered useless the complicated system of signatures which had been devised to prevent the expected rush for those documents.
By-and-by we were regaled by perusing in the New York papers the most astounding accounts of the dangers of our position, and of the uprising of Pennsylvania; unquestionably it was all true, but we hadn't seen anything of the kind yet. Still, while laughing over much that we read, we could not help noticing, that as time wore on, a stream of skedaddlers, small at first, but rapidly increasing, was sweeping by the camp; and in a short time crowds of able-bodied natives, driving their flocks and herds, and followed by wagons heaped mountain high with their most precious household goods, blocked up every road leading into the city, and showed that the enemy were rapidly approaching.
Things, however, remained quiet, as far as we were concerned, but it was only the quiet which portends the storm. A night alarm, caused by the guard and pickets firing on spies escaping from the camp under cover of the darkness, more spies, both male and female, in the guard-house, more cattle, more scared natives rushing by as though a second exodus was at hand, soon put us on the alert.
On Saturday, the 27th of June, that portion of the regiment not on picket was hastily marched down the turnpike, and set at work throwing up a line of rifle pits, to cover the road up which the enemy were now rapidly advancing, report said, only four miles off; but as companies C (Capt. Post), and G (Capt. Howland), had been previously sent some five miles down the same road as pickets, and had not yet been driven in, we took these figures with a slight discount. There was no question, however, but that they were near enough, and we dug away for dear life, from eleven A. M. to two P. M. (and the Sixty-ninth may be safely defied to produce a bigger hole than we had finished at that time); and in consideration of these unparalleled exertions, those in authority kindly allowed us to rest our wearied limbs--by chopping down a good-sized forest, which interfered with the range of the artillery.
Now, digging rifle pits in a hot sun is so very much like excavating a sewer, that axe-work was fun itself compared with it, so the boys, dropping their spades for axes, went to work with a vim, Col. Aspinwall himself setting the example, while each company did its best to outdo the others; and soon the big hickories, two and three feet in diameter, were crashing in all directions, shaking the very ground with their fall. This, by-the-by, was the "heavy cannonading at Harrisburg," which was telegraphed on to the New York papers, where it greeted our wondering eyes in print the next afternoon.
Of course the people of the vicinity lent their experienced arms to assist in obstructing the march of the enemy; the deputation of patriots present, up to seven o'clock P. M., numbering precisely four (and two of these were blacks, but none the worse choppers for that). After that hour, through the earnest solicitations of a guard despatched by Colonel Aspinwall, whose fixed bayonets presented an unanswerable argument, the surrounding male population volunteered (?) their aid and axes towards the completion of the work, while the tired troops sought their tents to sleep.
No alarm broke the stillness of the night, and the regiment assembled the next (Sunday) morning in front of the Colonel's tent for religious services, feeling rather more disposed to be pious than usual, for none knew what might occur before another day was passed.
Those services never took place. The men were assembled, the prayer-books distributed, the Chaplain had risen and was on the point of announcing his text, when the Colonel dashed up at full gallop, with the order--"Go back to your company 'streets,' and strike tents at once!"
The men rushed back to their quarters, and preparations for breaking camp went on in the greatest possible haste, in the midst of which the Chaplain disappeared for parts unknown, and we never laid eyes on him from that day to this.
Company D (Capt. Thornell) was here ordered down to relieve the companies on picket, and in obedience to subsequent orders threw up a line of rifle-pits across the road, to defend the position to which they had been ordered; where they remained, lying on their arms, until they were called in on the morning of the 30th.
In a few minutes the camp was struck, and we were marching off, little thinking, as we took our leave of the pleasant spot where our nice new tents were being loaded in wagons pressed for the occasion, of the length of time that would elapse before our heads would get under their (or any other) shelter again--perhaps, if we had, the leave-taking would have been more affecting.
While one half of the remaining portion of the regiment was ordered to hold the rifle-pits, the remainder marched to Bridgeport Station opposite Harrisburg, and proceeded to barricade several houses commanding the approaches to the beautiful railroad bridge erected at this point, with as much industry as though they had not done a thing for a week. Companies A (then commanded by Lieut. Franklin, Capt. Otis being temporarily absent) and I (Capt. Gardiner), with beams, barrels of earth, bundles of lath, railroad sleepers and sand-bags, by ten o'clock P. M., had converted the engine-house in which they were stationed into a loopholed and casemated battery to protect two pieces of the Eighth N. Y. troop, placed there to rake the railroad. In the more laborious parts of this work, lifting railroad sleepers and carrying sand-bags, they were assisted by a detachment of negroes from the large body at work on the fortifications, and it was really touching to see the patient, uncomplaining way in which these poor men worked. All the preceding night and day with scanty covering they had toiled, digging, carrying heavy beams and sand-bags, and though almost wearied out, without the slightest compulsion, without the use of a single harsh word from their overseer, they still continued. The white volunteers from Harrisburg had long since abandoned the toilsome work; the weary soldiers stopped at nine o'clock; but the negroes kept on.
