ceeding winters; so they suffered from
inconvenient quarters, as well as from the low ground and crowded camps.

[Illustration: White Oak Church]

Our army was now composed in large part, of the recruits sent from the
north during the preceding summer and autumn, and thousands of these had
never had any idea of fighting or of suffering the privations of army
life. They had enlisted for the large bounties which were paid at that
time, with the determination to leave the service as soon as their
bounties were paid, and a favorable opportunity offered itself for
escape. Desertions became alarmingly frequent; indeed, when a few weeks
later General Hooker assumed command, there were more than eighty-four
thousand absentees, with and without authority. The great number of
desertions, we think, should be attributed to the fact that so large a
proportion of the new recruits had enlisted for money, rather than to
the demoralization of the army.

Notwithstanding the inconveniences to which the men were subjected, and
the advance to midwinter, the weather was in our favor. The sun shone
brightly, the days were warm and the roads dry. It became evident that
General Burnside was determined not to allow the delightful weather and
the excellent roads to pass unimproved. Indications of a general
movement crowded upon us, and on the 20th of January came the order to
march.

The whole army broke camp and moved toward Banks' Ford, two miles up the
river from White Oak Church. On the march, an order from the commanding
general was read to the troops, announcing to them that the auspicious
moment had at length arrived when we were to reap the glorious fruits of
our long toils. At five o'clock we halted in the thick woods at Banks'
Ford, the point selected for crossing the river, and in a few minutes
were quietly and comfortably bivouacked out of sight of rebels on the
opposite side. Scarcely had we settled ourselves for a comfortable
night's rest, when the clouds, which had been gathering since morning,
broke in rain, and the delightful Indian summer gave way to the rainy
winter of the south. All night long the rain poured, and all the next
day. It was evident we had waited too long. But the commander was
determined not to abandon his effort to outflank the enemy. By morning,
the roads were so softened by the rain, that horses could not haul
artillery or pontoons into position. Men took the place of horses. The
whole Vermont brigade was