E. P. Roe: Reminiscences of his LifeRoe, Mary A. (Mary Abigail)
History
E. P. Roe: Reminiscences of his Life
Roe, Mary A. (Mary Abigail)
Roe, Edward Payson, 1838-1888
An occasional amusing incident would occur, however, to relieve the
gloom of these tragic times. I remember hearing my brother tell of one
that took place while crossing a narrow pontoon bridge. A mule, ridden
by a contraband, and having a number of kettles strung on one side of
the saddle and on the other some chickens that had been captured from
henroosts along the march, suddenly became stubborn when about half-way
across the bridge, and resisted all efforts on the part of his rider to
make him move on. He was blocking the way for the whole troop. An
officer, seeing the situation, shouted the order: "Charge mule!"
Instantly half a dozen men rode up and with the points of their sabres
convinced the animal of the necessity for a speedy advance. He started
off at a dead run, scattering the rattling kettles and squawking hens
by the wayside, the poor contraband holding on with arms clasped around
the mule's neck, while the troopers followed in wild pursuit, amid
shouts and laughter.
CHAPTER III
A WINTER CAMP
The following letters were written from the winter quarters of the
regiment on the Rappahannock, and explain themselves.
"In this letter I merely propose to give some glimpses of camp
life. When the army lay quiet for two or three weeks after the
battle of Fredericksburg, we began to think of winter quarters; so
one fine morning our whole division started out in search of a
desirable locality. In some respects it was a rather novel
expedition. We were seeking a place that would probably be our home
for months; and I assure you, as we marched along, that unknown
spot of ground became to us an object of no small anxiety and
interest. Those officers who had designs on Washington, rather than
Richmond, hoped it would be near the steamboat landing on the
Potomac. Many wishes were expressed that wood would be plenty and
convenient; for winter quarters without wood is an impossibility.
Speculations were indulged in regard to the locality and soil,
whether it would be a dry, sheltered little valley, or a bleak
cornfield capable of all degrees of mud. The place of encampment
selected for our regiment was apparently the latter. I must say
that many of us were not very enthusiastic about the position, and
we could not feel indifferent, for our comfort and perhaps health
depended on the suitableness of the place.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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