Private Wilbur Fisk of the 2nd Vermont Infantry began writing letters in December 1861 to The Green Mountain Freeman of Montpelier under the pen name “Anti-Rebel.” Fisk fought in the Seven Days’ Battles before being hospitalized with chronic diarrhea in September 1862. He returned to his regiment near Fredericksburg in March 1863 and wrote to the Freeman as the Army of the Potomac awaited the opening of the spring campaign. At the end of April Hooker had 134,000 men under his command, while Lee defended his lines along the Rappahannock with about 60,000 men.
Camp near White Oak Church, Va.
April 26, 1863
We have not moved from our old camp yet, although we came so near it once that we considered it a foregone conclusion. Last week every possible preparation was made for such an event; the usual orders were read, some more stringent and particular than ever before. The order in regard to straggling was read by the adjutant to each company separately, besides being read, according to usual custom, on dress parade, twice. Great stress was laid upon the importance of preventing a practice so demoralizing and weakening to the army. Regimental and Company officers were to be held responsible and, besides other punishments threatened, leaves of absence and furloughs would be withheld from those regiments where straggling was permitted.
The order in regard to rations informed us that we must each of us carry eight days’ rations of bread, coffee and sugar, three days’ rations of meat—the remaining five days’ rations of meat were to be taken along on the hoof. This was making far greater provision for ourselves than had ever before been required of us, and seemed to bode heavy, fatiguing loads for our backs, or else extreme destitution in the matter of blankets and extra clothing. We were not exactly ordered, but very strongly advised, to take only our rubber blankets, and leave our woollen ones in the care of the Quartermaster. Everything else, except a change of underclothing, must be left. Once before we had been ordered to send off to Washington everything worth saving that could possibly be dispensed with in a summer campaign. We thought we had been remarkably self-sacrificing and had stinted ourselves to the lowest possible extreme, but this order pressed us down another notch. Some sent off their woollen blankets and even their dress coats,—their overcoats had been sent off before. They saved nothing but their rubber blankets and their blouse coats, or fatigue jackets. Others determined to keep their woollen blankets at all hazards, and if sorely weighed down on the march, they could throw them away. Inasmuch as we didn’t move, these saw the wisdom of their decision. Those that sent off all their things consoled themselves with the philosophy that they are as well off in camp without them, as they would be on the march.
But all of our preparations were nothing, as present appearances indicate. It is quite amusing, though, to be in a camp like ours on the eve of a march, and hear the debates, suggestions, and decisions in regard to a thousand little valuables,—whether they should be left behind or carried. Things of no special merit, but which had contributed to our comfort or convenience, were heedlessly thrown aside or destroyed. Many an article that a few days before would have been gladly bought at a high price, were at once valueless and could not be given away. Often a knapsack would have to be unpacked and its contents sorted over and over again, and other articles selected out and doomed to stay behind, to the no small regret of the wistful owner. No bigger article than a can for butter, or a frying-pan, would be made the subject of earnest debate, but the question, “how can we get along without them?” was confronted by one still more inexorable, “How can we carry them?” If we only knew where we were going? but we did not know that, and it was wisdom to prepare for the worst. That night it rained like a deluge, and marching the next day was rendered impracticable. It would be the merest guesswork, to undertake to tell when we shall be called upon to get ready for marching again.
The boys were never in better spirits or in better health than now, and they were never in better condition to endure the fatigues of a march than at the present time. But very few of the men are on the sick list, and those that are are mostly recruits who are not yet fully acclimated. The boys “feel their oats,” as the saying is, immensely. I have never seen the time when the boys would engage in all manner of athletic sports with such eager relish as now. There is none of that thin, gloomy, woebegone expression to be seen in the faces of the men that was visible upon almost every countenance at the end of last summer’s campaign. The boys never felt more boyish than they do now, and they never enjoyed themselves better. We can get up a sham fight that might look a little rough to some of our milder acquaintances at home, perhaps, but it passes with us as good, earnest boy’s play. Rough as the Second boys have the name of being—and rough customers we certainly are, to those who are foolish enough to proclaim themselves our adversaries—a quarrel among ourselves is an unheard of thing and “difficulties” quite unknown. Almost perfect equanimity and good feeling exist throughout the entire regiment. Our guard-house remains empty, or in fact we have no guard-house at all, the apology of a thing we once had having become totally ruined and demoralized for want of use and care. The whole institution is nearly obsolete, and putting men under arrest is well nigh played out.
The 26th New Jersey regiment belongs to this brigade—a regiment of nine months men who came out here with big bounties, and, of course, has seen more hardships, endured more privations, and suffered more generally than any of the old soldiers ever dreamed of. The boys call them “two hundred dollar men,” and they take wicked delight in playing their pranks on them whenever they have a chance. Our boys have no particular grudge against the Jerseys, but their mischief loving propensities must find vent somewhere and the Jersey regiment furnishes them abundant victims. It will be a long time before the boys will allow them to forget the dog scrape we got them into when we tempted them to steal a nicely dressed dog, which was duly served up to their officers in fine style. They stole it out of pure mischief and a desire not to be outstripped in that line of business by our boys; and doubtless it tasted remarkably sweet in consequence, as stolen articles proverbially do, but the joke leaked out, and it will be a long time before they will hear the last of it. It must be very provoking to them to hear the barking that springs spontaneously, as it would seem, from our regiment, whenever we pass the Jerseys, but nobody can tell who does it, and the Jerseys have to “grin and bear it.” Our boys love to make them visits occasionally, after roll-call at night, and, as they generally come back in high glee, with a mouthful of stories to tell, it may be safely considered that the visit was a pleasant one to at least one of the parties. In one of these nocturnal visits some of our boys, for some reason or other, probably a misunderstanding, got caught, and were put into the guard-house. But the guardhouse didn’t hold them long. They run the guard and outrun the guard’s bullets, and, though the Jerseys did their best, they couldn’t imprison them again, nor tell who they were. After that our boys generously offered to stand guard for them, but our services were declined. Some time ago some officers of the Fifth advised the Jerseys to let the Second boys alone or they would find more than they could handle, and the Jerseys are beginning to think it best to accept this advice.
The paymaster made us a visit about a fortnight ago, and this has contributed not a little to keep the boys in good spirits, for there is nothing in the world that will make the boys feel so good-natured as it will to get their pockets lined with Uncle Sam’s greenbacks. We received four months’ pay. It made quite a little sum for us, but it is easily spent here. Some are beginning to borrow already. While every luxury (we call them luxuries, though any one but soldiers would consider the term “necessaries” more appropriate) that we have to buy rules so high, as here in the army, money is of but little account. For instance: butter is 60 cents a pound, cheese 50 cents a pound, apples 5 cents apiece, papers tobacco at the rate of nearly $3.00 a pound, whiskey $1.00 a drink or $3.00 a bottle, and so on to the end of the chapter. For five dollars a fellow could get a pretty good dinner at the sutler’s. It is unnecessary, in order to tell a big story, to quote prices in Jeff’s dominions; here in the Union army we can beat the rebs all hollow even in that.
The weather to-day and yesterday, has been remarkably fine. The sun shines clear and pleasant with scarcely a cloud to intervene. A stiff northwest wind has been blowing steadily, in regular April style. In Vermont it would be considered excellent weather to make sugar, as well as to dry the land and prepare it for the plow. Here it is still quite cool, and a sunny side is preferable to a shade for comfort. With this weather Virginia mud must soon disappear. Something besides mud will have to be our excuse for remaining here much longer. There has been some curious rumors afloat to account for our not moving. In the first place Gen. Hooker had broken his leg, by being thrown from a horse, and therefore could not be with the army. Then it was said that he ordered a movement to be made, but the President countermanded the order. Upon this, it is said, Hooker resigned and Fremont was now in command. They are all about equally true, probably. But whether we move or stay, as the boys say “it is all inside of the three years.”
Quite a disgraceful affair occurred the other day with the 5th regiment which perhaps I ought to mention. Five or six from Co. D, of that regiment went out to a house near the picket line, for purposes too foul to mention. The guard stationed at the house was relieved, who reported his suspicions of something wrong at the nearest picket reserve. A squad of pickets was immediately sent to arrest the guilty party. They succeeded, but were fired upon and two of their number hit. I do not know the extent of the injuries received. The affair will soon undergo an investigation, and some think the death penalty will be inflicted upon one or more of the culprits.