Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1884-11-29
HERALD SATURDAY, NOV %, 1884

had started. was rather confused, but
could see distinctly enough that there
was soon to be a smash-up. | saw dis
cord ahead unless / could avoid the col
lision ; and as that seemed impracticable,
Jumped and struck on the softest spot
could find in my hasty survey. The
knees of my trousers were badly torn,
and was bruised in more spots than one
would deem possible, but got to my feet
in season to see the climax. My carriage
struck the barricade with such force as
to send it over, with a dull crash, into
the river below 1t cured me forever of
any desire to ride where no provision
has been made for stopping the vehicle.
/ tell this incident as a specimen of the
scrapes an idle soldier may fall into.
The next day we were sent by rail
back to Washington, and into camp upon
our old grounds. A few mornings after
wards an inspection was ordered. 1t
came with the usual hurry and parade.
Knapsacks and equipments were in shin
ing order every musket, bayonet. and
button, boot and belt. as bright as rub
bling and fear Of censure or police duty
could make them. Inspection over, the
last jingle of ramrod in resounding mus
ket was heard, and we were dismissed.
WITH an lntlmatlon that on the morrow
we were to go on a march.
The sun rose through the mists of the
morning, -one of those quiet mornings
when every sound is heard with distinct
ness. The waters of the Potomac were
like sheet of glass as we took up our
line of march across the Long Bridge,
making the ola structure shake with our
cadence step. Our moods varied some
lo1.r rha1 Il rx,1r< sol
tones, talked with their comrades as to
their destination. Not much was said
about fighting, but 1, for one, did a great
deal OF thinking on that tender subject.
After passing the fort, which command
ed the bridge on the Virginia side, we
encountered one of the most powerful
allies of the Rebel hosts, particularly dur
ing the winter and spring campaigns in
Virginia,-MUD. No country can beat a
Virginia road for mud. We stuck it
thick. 1t was knee deep. 1t was verify
heavy marching" The foot sank very
insidiously into the mud, and reluctantly
came out again it had to be coaxed and
while you were persuading your reluct-
ant left, the willing right was sinking in
to unknown depths it came out of the
mud like the noise of suction-pump
when the water is exhausted.
The order was given, Route step " !;
we climbed the banks of the road in
search of firm earth, but it could t be
found. SO we went on pumping away,
making about one foot in depth to two in
advance. Our feet seemingly weighed
twenty pounds each. We carried a
number six into the unknown depths OF
mud, but it came out a number twelve.
elongated, yellow, and nasty it had
lost its fair proportions. and would be
mistaken for any thing but foot, if not
attached to leg. 1t seemed impossible
that we should ever be able to find our
feet in their primitive condition again.
Occasionally boot or shoe would be left
in the mud, and it would take all explor-
ing expedition to find it. Oh, that dis
gushing. sticking mud Wad Rider de-
clared that if Virginia was once in the
Union, she was now in the mud. A big
Irish comrade, Jim o 'Brien, facetiously
took up the declension of mud,-mud.
mudder. murder. pulling foot out at
each variation for emphasis. Jack E.
declared it would be impossible to dis
lodge an enemy stuck in the mud as we
were.
The army resembled, more than any
thing else, a congregation of flies making
apilgrimage through molasses. The boys
called their feet pontons,' mud
hooks" $ soil-excavators. and other
names not quite SO polite. When we
halted to rest by the wayside, our feet
were in the way of ourselves and every
body else. keep your mud-hooks out
of my way, -" Save your pontoons for
another bridge" were heard ON all sides.
with all the reckless, profane.
and quaint jokes common to the army,
and which are not for print.