n
were detailed from each company to carry off the wounded; the red
hospital flag fluttered upon a house behind us, and the colonel,
passing in front, told us they were very near, and exhorted us not to
let them pass. But the day wore on to evening, and no rebels appeared,
and at dark we moved again. Starting in a heavy rain, we marched nine
miles to the borders of a town known as New Kingston. Here we halted
while quarters were hunted up. Every man, tired with the rapid walking
through rain and mud, squatted at once in the road, no matter where, and
then along the whole column singing began. A soldier will sing under all
circumstances, comfortable or uncomfortable.

At length we moved into the town and took possession of a church,
distributing ourselves in aisles, pews, and pulpit. What little remained
of the night, we were glad to have in quiet. It had been questionable
whether we could reach Kingston, for on the march it was rumored that we
were flanked; and a man, emerging from the shade as we passed, had asked
a question of the chaplain, and, receiving no answer, had retreated a
few yards, and fired his piece in the air, which looked very like a
signal. The next morning, the 26th, we went into camp in woods just in
front of the town, while the general and the surgeon established
headquarters in the town.

Here we repeated substantially the programme of the day before, except
that continuous rain was substituted for the baking sun, and proved far
more endurable.

On the afternoon of the 27th we marched some seven or eight miles, and
encamped at night in Oyster Point, about two miles from Harrisburg.

Sunday! the 28th of June. My first Sunday with the regiment. No rumors
of the enemy reach us, and to us privates the prospect is of a quiet
day. The boys gather round the chaplain for divine service. And as for a
few minutes we renew our connection with civilization, and, amid stacked
arms, tents, camp fires, and the paraphernalia of war, sing psalms and
hymns, and listen to the chaplain's prayer, I decide that this surpasses
all luxury possible in camp. I shall never forget that 'church.'

But no Sunday in camp. Hardly were the services concluded, when we went
forward a little to an orchard, and then line of battle again. This
performance of 'laying for a fight' which never came, had by this time
grown tame, in fact intolerably stupid, and I for one was growing tired
of sitting in silence, when boom! crash! a cann