Sunday, the 10th, at three o’clock in the morning, we again received orders to march. At eight, A.M., the brigade was moving in the direction of Lancaster. Our company this time were detailed as rear guard, and having to wait until all the teams were under way, did not start until ten, A.M. The day was very warm, but having the advantage, as guard, of stopping often, we made an easy march of it. At two, P.M., we arrived in sight of our camp; the brigade encamping upon a hill, within one-half mile of the village of Lancaster a situation commanding a view of the country for many miles around.

A source of amusement heretofore denied us, we had the privilege of indulging in here. A small pond in the same enclosure with our camp, abounded in fish, some of which, when full grown, reach the enormous weight of one-fourth of a pound. Hooks and lines were in demand, and piscatorial pursuits were the order of the day.

The Twelfth Regiment in white gloves, through the generosity of our Sutler! Three cheers for H. S. Patterson! On the afternoon of May 18th, each man was called in front of his orderly’s tent, and received a pair, and at dress parade the Twelfth were encased in white gloves. Some suggested the old saying that “puss in gloves catches no mice.” From our improved appearance others prophesied the speedy downfall of the rebellion. Much querying occurred in the regiment, about this time, as to when our term of service would expire. One of our men claiming his time as up, it being nine months since his enlistment, hoping to find out when the regiment were to start for home, went to the colonel and thus accosted him:

“Well, Colonel, I suppose my time is out.”

Says the colonel, “What are you going to do about it; are you going home now, or are you going to wait for the rest of the boys?”

Says the fellow, somewhat abashed, “I think I will go home with the rest of the boys.”

“Well,” says the “old colonel,” “I guess you had better; we are all going home pretty soon.”

The fellow retired, much chop-fallen at the result of his interview.

May 20, at dress parade, was read to us the farewell address of General Naglee, who had resigned his command and was about to return home. He was suffering from an affection of the heart, and found himself unable to continue longer in the field. He was to leave us the 21st, and extended an invitation to all of us to call on him. The evening of the 20th, at sunset, the band formed in front of his quarters, commenced playing, and in a short time a good portion of the brigade assembled, to hear the parting words of the general. We found him sitting in front of his tent, rising occasionally to salute the officers as they came in groups from the different regiments.

The band played a few pieces, when the general, stepping in front, addressed them a few parting words, then, taking them each by the hand, he bade them adieu. Then turning to the soldiers, he made them a short speech, bidding them farewell, saying he would be glad to shake hands with all who chose to come forward. The band played “Home, Sweet Home,” at the conclusion of which we all retired to our quarters.

Colonel Griffin, of the Sixth New Hampshire, succeeded General Naglee in the command of the brigade at this time.

May 21st, the enemy were accumulating on the Cumberland, and occupied the south bank of the river, where their movements were closely watched by our forces. Some few days before, they had contrived to throw a force across. This brought on a fight, in which they were repulsed and driven back. We were under marching orders at the time, and held ourselves in readiness to march at short notice in the event it should have been found necessary to have sent reinforcements.

May 22d, at nine in the evening, we received orders to march. At seven the next morning, the first brigade were on the march, accompanied by the second, who followed close in the rear. Taking the Somerset road, we were soon fairly established in all the privileges and comforts of a march on a hot, dry, dusty day. At eleven, A.M., we stopped for dinner, having marched nine miles. We started again at half-past two, P.M., and at four, P.M., encamped near Crab Orchard, twelve miles from our late camp, near Lancaster.