Headquarters, Army Of Potomac
September 9,
1863
In my last I forwarded a landscape with Headquarters of the
3d Corps in the verdant background. In this, I will describe the Review, at
which, as the Gauls say, “I assisted.” .
. . Everybody got himself up in all available splendor. Those that had scarfs put
them on, and those that had none, tried to make up in the shine of their boots
and newness of their coats. General Meade burst forth in the glory of a new
saddle-cloth, which the expressman had, in the nick of time, brought fresh from
Washington. As for myself, did I not put on the Brimmer scarf, and white
gloves, and patent-leather boots; whereby, shining like a lily of the field,
was I not promoted to ride immediately behind the Chief, thereby happily
avoiding the dust? Heure militaire, we all mounted, the escort presented
arms, and the cavalcade jogged off, en route for the parade ground, six
miles distant. The road lay through pine woods, and barren fields, and all
sorts of places like most roads hereabouts, and the cloud of dust we raised
must have been extremely pleasant to the escort in the rear! At length we got
in sight of a big U. S. flag, and, immediately after, beheld a long slope of
clear ground, quite black with the lines of infantry, while long artillery
trains were moving across the fields to get into position. It looked very
handsome and warlike, and the muskets, which had received an extra burnish,
were flashing away at a great rate. The procession rode up to the house and dismounted
midst great cries of “Orderly!” to come and hold their horses. Then advanced
convenient Contrabands and dusted us down; which improved our aspect not a
little. After which the Corps Commander, General French, came forth, with
proper greetings. He looks precisely like one of those plethoric French
colonels, who are so stout, and who look so red in the face, that one would
suppose some one had tied a cord tightly round their necks. Mounted on a large
and fine horse, his whole aspect was martial, not to say fierce. In a few
minutes we again got on, and moved towards the field; whereupon there arose a
great and distant shouting of “Bat-tal-ion! Shoulder! Her-r-rms!” and the long
lines suddenly became very straight and stiff, and up went the muskets to a
shoulder. We rode down the front and up the rear of each line (of which there
were three, each of a division with the artillery on the left flank) amid a
tremendous rolling of drums and presenting of arms and dropping flags; the
bands playing “Hail to the Chief.” Miss Sturgis's mare behaved very nicely and
galloped along with her neck arched, minding nothing except the flags, and
those not much. Even the cannon did not disturb her behaviour. . . .
After the artillery had in like manner been reviewed, the
General took a station by a little flag, and then all three divisions marched
past, followed by the artillery. It was a somewhat sad sight to look at these
veterans, with their travel-stained uniforms and their battered canteens; many
of the regiments had no more than 200 men, and their flags were so tattered
that you could barely read such names as Fair Oaks, and Williamsburg, where so
many of the missing 800 now lie. The men looked spare and brown and in good
health; and also as if they would then and there fight French Zouaves or
anybody else you chose to bring on. . .
. Some divisions at Gettysburg marched thirty-six miles in one day; and then
fought for two days after that, with scarcely anything to eat or to drink.
Among the troops were the 11th and 16th Massachusetts regiments and the 10th
battery, and certainly none of the soldiers looked better. . . . The artillery looked even more
serviceable than the infantry; and, independent of the large number of guns,
was well horsed and well manned. As a rule I am much pleased with the aspect of
our officers, high and low. They are cleanly and have a firm, quiet bearing.
You can often pick out those who have been through the thick of it, by their
subdued and steady look. The dress of the soldiers is highly practical, more so
even than the French. The knapsack is baggy and of a poor pattern, however. It
is curious how everything has, by sheer hard service and necessity, been
brought down to the lowest point of weight and complication. A dragoon tucks
his trousers inside his boots, buckles on a belt, from which hang a sabre and revolver,
gets on a horse with a McClellan saddle and curb bridle, and there he is, ready
to ride fifty miles in one day and fight on top of it. . . . After the Review the generals were
entertained in a bower, with champagne and other delicacies, while we of the
Staff meekly had big sandwiches and buckets of punch. I tried a sandwich, but
found it rather salt eating, and so confined myself to iced water, wherein I
got ahead of winebibbers who arrived at home very cross and hot. The General,
who is very moderate in his conviviality, soon broke up the meeting, and,
amidst a most terrible clicking of spurs and rattling of sabres, we all
mounted, and so home by a short cut which one of General French's aides
was kind enough to show us, and which entailed a considerable amount of rough
riding; so that, with Mause Headrigg, I had occasion to remark, “By the help of
the Lord I have luppen a ditch!”
SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s
Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness
to Appomattox, p. 9-12
