March 18th a cold, disagreeable storm commenced, lasting till the 21st; it commenced with a drizzling rain, which finally, however, turned into a stiff snow storm, and on the morning of the 21st it cleared off, the snow lying on the ground six inches deep. All were now looking forward to the time when we should pull up and leave for other parts.

March 23d, the snow had disappeared, much to our satisfaction. This day was spent in issuing clothing to the regiment. They were now fully prepared for the journey before them. The Twelfth at this time was the largest regiment in the entire corps, and the finest in its general appearance, as regards the men, their clothing, arms, equipments, &c.

Wednesday, 25th, we received marching orders.

Thursday, 26th, at seven, P.M., we struck our tents and remained in the streets, waiting for orders to fall in. Meanwhile, fires were kindled, and a general bonfire ensued; sticks, poles, boxes, and every thing that would burn was scraped up and added to the flames. It being a cold, chilly night, these fires proved very cheering and comfortable. At eleven in the evening we were called upon to fall in. This was quickly done; the regiment was formed, and we immediately proceeded to the landing, and went aboard the steamer Long Island, and were soon on our way, bidding farewell to Newport News, where we had spent many pleasant hours, much to our own comfort individually, and with profit to the regiment. The morning of the 26th we were steaming up the Chesapeake, en route for Baltimore.

Left the Chesapeake at six, P.M., entered the Petapsco, and at seven were brought alongside the wharf, where we passed the night.

At six o’clock on the morning of the 27th we were ordered to sling knapsacks. This done we filed off the boat, the regiment was formed, and marching through the streets of the city, we stacked our arms opposite the depot, and were to go aboard the cars as soon as the necessary arrangements could be made. The boys were allowed to leave the ranks and go where they chose. I went down street, and found there was plenty of liquor to be had, and also that it was in great demand; many of the boys were getting their canteens filled, &c.

The people of Baltimore were very friendly to us. As we marched through the streets we met with cordial greetings; handkerchiefs were waved, flags were displayed, &c. This was reciprocated by the regiment, who answered back in deafening cheers.

We had our hands full after starting from Baltimore, in consequence of the boys indulging too freely in “whiskey libations.” They had seen no liquor for some time, and seemed determined to make the most of this. At twelve we commenced entering the cars, and at one P.M. the regiment were all aboard. Some of the men were picked up and brought on in a dilapidated condition, having been engaged in turning somersaults, evidently having had help in this game, judging from the countenances of some of them, which had materially changed, showing marks where the fist had been too closely applied for the good of the recipient, resulting in crawls upon all four, and other demonstrations of a like character. With three or four exceptions, all of our company came aboard without help, though I am sorry to say many of them were full of fight, and commenced operations soon after entering the cars. It fell upon me to stand at one end of the car, with orders to allow no one to go out, under any pretence, as in the present condition of the men the result no doubt would have been disastrous. Soon the uproar commenced, which continued until darkness put a stop to it. There would be an occasional lull in the tempest, as parties became exhausted.

Towards night, those who were brought aboard insensible, and who were indebted to a few of us for their preservation as the chances were that they would have been stamped to pieces if we had not exerted ourselves to save them came to and sailed in for their share. Such an uproar I never heard among human beings, and it required our utmost exertions to keep them from annihilating one another. Darkness came upon us at last, the uproar partly ceased, and comparative quiet reigned in this menagerie.

The train was started at two, P.M., and proceeded slowly throughout the afternoon. Late in the evening we stopped at Little York, Penn., where hot coffee and bread were served to such of the regiment as felt disposed to partake. We were now fairly on our way, en route for the West, via Harrisburg. After leaving Little York we proceeded rapidly, and the next morning, at eight o’clock, stopped at Lewistown, Penn., sixty miles to the west of Harrisburg.

March 28th, at half-past one, P.M., stopped at Altoona, where hot coffee and white bread were served to us. At quarter-past two commenced the ascent of the Alleghany Mountains. Our train consisted of thirty cars, drawn by a powerful locomotive. Upon commencing the ascent of the mountain, two more were attached, one to the rear of the train, and one ahead. The road is very crooked, and the train, as it moved slowly, winding its way along the numerous curves, like some huge serpent, presented to the eye of the beholder a novel and beautiful spectacle. In many places we could look down into ravines several hundred feet in depth, close beside the track, the sides of which were nearly perpendicular; and upon the other hand the mountains would rise as high above us. All along the road the mountains were covered with a heavy growth of timber. Millions of logs, of all sizes, lay rotting upon the ground, seeming ready to tumble upon us at any moment. This crossing the Alleghanies presented features of a kind new to Rhode Islanders, and was enjoyed by all who could appreciate the beauties of nature.

At half-past two, P.M., we passed through the tunnel at the summit and commenced our descent. Passed Johnstown at six, and at twelve entered Pittsburg. At half-past twelve, the morning of the 29th, the regiment left the cars and marched to the City Hall, the general rendezvous for supperless soldiers. We here found supper awaiting us, to which we quickly introduced ourselves. Had white bread and butter, crackers, pickles, apples and hot coffee served to us. We were also treated to music from one of the city bands. Stopped an hour in the hall, when the colonel, making a speech, thanking the Pittsburgians for their hospitality, &c., we left, highly pleased with our entertainment. From the hall we marched a short distance and took lodgings under the shelter of a large shed adjoining the depot, where some of us were so fortunate as to get a short nap.

At six, A.M., rose from my downy bed, visited a saloon close by, had a good wash, and through the kindness of a friend, a good breakfast of potatoes, hot biscuit, beefsteak, coffee, &c. At half-past nine, A.M., the regiment entered the cars, and at ten the train started, crossing the Alleghany River, en route for Cincinnati, via Steubenville and Columbus. I improved the little time I was in Pittsburg in looking about me. I was somewhat surprised at the general appearance of the city. I had often heard it spoken of as a dirty place. We often hear it called the city of “Eternal Smoke.” This proceeds from the numerous forges, furnaces, and so on, which abound in the city, its principal business being the working of iron, for which it is celebrated. In connection with its business I had pictured in imagination a collection of low, heavy buildings and dilapidated houses, all of the color of smoke. Instead of this, I found a place of great beauty and interest. Many of the buildings in the business portion of the city were four and five stories high, brick and stone being the material used. All of the buildings were neat in appearance, and many of them models of taste and beauty in their architecture. I saw very fine looking churches in this place. Owing to our short stay here, I cannot enter into a description, but judging from what I saw, should think it a place of great wealth, uncommon beauty and interest. We passed through Steubenville, Ohio, at two, P.M. At the village of Means, a short distance beyond, halted for coffee. Halted again at the village of Newcomerstown, at seven, P.M., at the village of Cheshocton, at nine, and at the city of Newark at twelve. All along through these villages we were warmly welcomed by the inhabitants. The ladies ran to meet us as we came to a halt. Many of them brought bread, pies and apples to the soldiers. Some of the boys were the recipients of little tokens of affection, in the shape of kisses. Relative to the kisses, “Freely as you receive, freely give,” was the rule on the part of the boys. While passing through these villages, for my share, I received an apple and a slice of white bread and sauce.

Monday, 30th, at two in the morning, the train came to a halt again, and upon making inquiry, I learned we had arrived at Columbus, the capital of the State. Here we found refreshments for the whole regiment awaiting us. White bread was brought into the cars and given to those who wished it. Before the coffee could be brought to us, our colonel, thinking the regiment needed rest more than coffee and bread, (many of them being asleep at the time,) ordered the train to pass on. Not having a good chance to sleep myself, I being ready to eat and drink all I could get, I secured four loaves of the bread, and finding the coffee was in the depot, I hastened from the cars and was in time to fill my canteen.

At seven, A.M., we passed through Zenia, where the train stopped long enough for us to wash up and look about us. Starting from here, at ten, A.M., we made a halt in Miami Valley, at a little village, where we remained until noon. At the village of Morrow we stopped four hours. This delay was owing to a train ahead of us smashing up, obliging us to wait till the track could be cleared. At five, P.M., we started again, and at seven entered the city of Cincinnati. After a delay of an hour we alighted from the cars and soon after proceeded to the Fifth Street Market, where supper was provided us. Our refreshments were the same as those we had at Pittsburg minus the music. At nine, P.M., we retired from the hall, after acknowledging our thanks by three deafening cheers, and marched immediately to the boat, which we found awaiting us, and at ten, P.M., were across the Ohio and standing on Kentucky soil. We landed in Covington, a place opposite Cincinnati. At eleven, we turned in for the night, occupying the floor of an old, dilapidated shed, near the depot.

Tuesday, 31st, our colonel endeavored to get us a breakfast for the regiment at this place, but was unsuccessful. Our haversacks furnished us a breakfast at this place. We were delayed here until one, P.M., when we again took the cars and were soon hurrying on, en route for Lexington. Passed through the town of Belmont at four, and arrived at Lexington at nine in the evening. Here we had arrived, we learned, at the end of our journey. We took up our quarters for the night in the cars and about the depot.

Wednesday, April 1st, turned out at an early hour, kindled fires, made coffee and took our breakfast. The regiment was not called upon to fall in until half-past eight, A.M. Meanwhile I took the opportunity to visit the grave and monument of Henry Clay, which are in the cemetery a short distance from the depot. The monument is very large, and upon the top of the tall shaft stands a statue of the departed statesman. His grave is about forty rods from the monument. It was pointed out to me by one familiar with the spot. It is ten feet north of the monument erected by him to the memory of his mother, Mrs. Elizabeth Clay, formerly Watkins. There are no stones to mark the spot where he lies, as his remains will undoubtedly soon be removed to the vault prepared for them, at the base of the monument. Finding some coffee beans, as they call them here, upon the grave, and which grew upon a tree overshading it, I secured them for a memento. I also visited the place allowed for the burial of soldiers who die in the hospitals here. The space allotted is upon an eminence, and the manner of burying is novel and interesting.

The graves were arranged in circles, the first circle enclosing a space twenty feet in diameter, with the foot of the grave towards the space, and the head outwards. The second circle outside of this, and so on. There were several circles already finished. The space is reserved for the erection of a monument at some future time. There are many fine specimens of sculpture in this cemetery, and monuments in great profusion. At half-past eight we were called upon to fall in, and immediately marched to our encampment. This was situated upon the Fair Grounds, three-quarters of a mile from the city. It was a beautiful situation, amid a grove of black walnuts and maples, commanding a fine view of the surrounding country, which includes many interesting localities. The Ashland Estate, well known as the residence of Henry Clay, is but a mile from our camp. This estate is very large, comprising originally one thousand acres.

Thursday, April 2d, I started on a visit to this place. Just before reaching the house we came upon two children, a boy and a girl, who were playing in a grove adjoining. They were about ten or twelve years of age. Upon coming up to them to make some inquiry, I noticed in the features of each a striking resemblance of the man whose memory we hold in reverence. Upon making inquiry, I learned they were grand children of Henry Clay. Their father, James Clay, was absent, holding a high position in the rebel army; his family occupying the homestead. It was a very warm, pleasant day, and the whole family, which consisted of the mother and two other younger children, were busying themselves out-doors, and looking at the men who were employed at the time of our visit, in the garden. The wife of James Clay is a woman apparently about thirty years of age, in height rather below the average; has black eyes and hair, is of a dark complexion, and without doubt in her younger days was considered handsome. Her countenance bears the traces of grief, and in the absence of her husband, she is no doubt seeing trouble. I had a talk with one of the men respecting the family. He showed me the house he lived in, which is situated on the estate, and was rented to him by Mrs. Clay the year before. He said he was a Union man, and thought it best she should understand it so, before he occupied the premises. He therefore told her. All she told him was that she rented the house for the money. Whether her husband’s course is approved of by her or not, he could not ascertain, as she keeps her own counsels. I was told the whole family since the death of the honored parent, which occurred some eight years ago, have dressed in black. Mrs. Clay was dressed in a full suit of deep mourning. In connection with her husband’s position at the present time, I thought the dress very appropriate.

We were allowed the privilege of going about the premises. I learned that the house occupied by the elder Clay had, since his decease, been removed, giving place to one more modern in its style of architecture. There has been no alteration made in the outbuildings, of which there are quite a number. The house is a very fine building, built of brick, with free-stone cornices, window caps, &c. The lawn is very spacious; around the outer edge is a carriage road, and upon either side of this is a row of trees. The principal kinds are hemlock, firs and black walnuts, most of them of large size. Scattered about the lawn in great profusion are others of different kinds. Alongside the carriage road were a few neglected flower beds. Finding some of them in bloom, I culled one and sent it home as a memento of my visit to this celebrated estate.

After a short stay here, we returned to camp. On our way back we passed the residence of John Clay, and took the opportunity of visiting his stables, and seeing the horses owned by him, he being reputed the owner of some of the finest horses in the State. We found the stables easy of access, several negroes being in charge, who were willing to show us about the premises. This Clay is quite a sporting character; has a race course of his own, and makes a business of rearing and racing horses. Those we saw were the finest he had. One of them, a bright bay mare, named Edgar, is said to have run her mile in one minute forty-six seconds. Those I saw were all trained to running. On our way from the stables we passed the house. Being hungry, I inquired of a negro if he could find us something to eat. He took us up to the house and asked the inmates of the kitchen, which consisted of three negroes, one man and two women, if they could do any thing for us. The man said that Mr. Clay was sick, and had refused several before us. Finding we would accept of a johnny-cake which was cooking upon the stove, he took it off and gave it to us. The widow of Henry Clay resides at this place with her son. She is now in her eighty-third year, is very feeble, and will soon follow her lamented husband to the tomb. From here, returning to camp, we stopped to see a herd of mules that had just been turned loose, and who were capering and cutting around at a break-neck rate. Occasionally one would stop and let fly a pair of heels, making all crack again. I could not see as there was any damage done, however. Oftentimes two or three, while upon the full run, would go down upon the ground, and coming up again, run as fast in another direction. Such thumps as they gave one another would kill any thing but a mule. At one, P.M., I reached camp, much pleased with my journey.

Sunday, April 5th, I attended church in the city, in company with two or three hundred of the regiment. Monday, 6th, signed pay-roll, and the next day, the 7th, were paid off, receiving our pay up to the 1st of March. We had been in camp here a week, and were getting pretty well established. Our quartermaster, J. L. Clark, was left at Newport News to settle up affairs there, and then was to follow us with the major part of the luggage. At this time, April 7th, he had not reached us. Through some one’s fault, we were on short allowance while at this place, and as we begun to live again, received marching orders.

Wednesday, the 8th, broke camp, and started on our march at eight, A.M., accompanied by the rest of the brigade. It was a warm, pleasant morning. We passed through the city, and took the road in the direction of Winchester, and after a very severe march of twenty-two miles, we reached our encampment, which was situated two miles south of this village, at half-past seven in the evening. This was a hard day’s march for the first brigade. The road over which we passed, ran in a south-easterly direction from Lexington, in a straight line. Underneath the surface of the ground are ledges, which abound in this part of the country, of slate and sandstone. These are easily worked, and are the material used in making roads. The stone is broken in small pieces, which in course of time become fine, making an excellent thoroughfare. The road throughout its whole length was made after this manner. Owing to the material used in making and repairing, (every little way having to walk over stones lately carried on,) it was very hard for the feet. I have not been able to learn that there was any necessity of our making this two days’ march in one, except perhaps to gratify the caprice of Col. Griffin of the Ninth New Hampshire, who commanded the brigade in the absence of Gen. Naglee. But a small portion of the brigade managed to reach camp the night of the 8th. Many of the men carried heavy knapsacks, and were obliged to fall out. After marching a few miles, I judged from the motion of things that they were intending to make the march in one day. I therefore fell out, took off my boots, and put on a pair of “whangs,” so as to march as easy as possible.

Just before taking my place in the ranks again, I came across my chum, who had dropped out to rest, his feet already blistered. As it would be easier to march in the rear of the regiment, thereby avoiding the dust, (it being a very dusty road withal,) and rest at his leisure, he had made up his mind to do so. Our things being together, I kept him company. After marching some sixteen miles this way, my companion, who was about used up, halted until the baggage wagons came up with us, and contrived to get his knapsack into one of them, and soon after found a place for mine. This made it easier for us. The wagons belonged to the brigade, and I was fortunate in getting my knapsack on one containing baggage of the Twelfth Regiment. My companion, after our arrival in the village, took his off and slung it on his back again. Finding the wagon containing mine was to accompany our regiment, I concluded to let it remain there. As soon as the wagon started, I seized hold of it, and by that means contrived to keep up, the team some of the way going upon the trot. We finally reached camp. I was about five minutes getting my knapsack off the wagon, my blankets out of it, and in turning in. My chum turned in for the night under a fence, about quarter of a mile in the rear, being pretty much “played out.”

Kentucky is the finest country I have seen yet. It had the same appearance all the way from Lexington to Winchester. The soil to all appearance is excellent, and easily cultivated. The surface of the ground undulates in hill and dale, just enough to give relief and beauty to the scenery. No stones upon the surface to add to the labor of its cultivation. There are no underbrush growing in the woods here. This adds greatly to the beauty of this country, every forest having the appearance of the most beautiful groves, underneath which grass grows in abundance. This gives Kentucky the advantage over any State thus far, that I have seen; and the first in rank, as a cattle producing country, as every forest affords excellent pasturage for the herds of cattle, mules, &c., which abound in this State. The fields are laid out large, are well fenced, and a large part under cultivation. The houses are scattering, being from half a mile to a mile apart, suggesting to a New Englander the idea of others between, in the event of the war coming to an end, together with the institution of slavery. God forbid that this fair land should longer be blighted by this curse.

“Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
Let this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust.’
And the star spangled banner, in triumph shall wave,
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.”