house at Charlestown with a foot amputated. We spent the night
in Charlestown, and while there many of the boys visited the tree where
John Brown had his taking off Dec. 2, 1859.

On the 25th of October, I wrote a letter home from which I quote, "The
whole regiment cannot turn out over 50 or 60 charter members. I will
give you a list of Co. "C," which left Hamilton but little over one year
ago full of hope and great expectation. Today we have present Capt.
Broady, broken in mind and body by hardship and disease; Serg. Isaac
Plumb, well and in good spirits; Serg. C. A. Fuller, ditto; Serg. D. W.
Skinner, suffering from old wound, and who will be discharged; Portner
E. Whitney, pioneer, good soldier; George Jacobs, private, cooking for
the company; Junius Gaskell, sick most of the time; Charles Richards,
paroled prisoner, sees no duty; Freeman Allen has a bad leg; Rufus
Rundell, in quartermaster's department--always has been; John Boardman,
drummer. Where are the other 80? Some 10 or 11 killed, three times that
number wounded, 10 dead of disease, 8 or 10 discharged, and the
remainder sick in hospitals. Ike and myself are the only ones of that
ninety odd, who have been in every engagement with the regiment, and he
was not carrying a gun at Fair Oaks. Lieut. Keech is the only line
officer who has been in all the regiment's battles. This may seem
incredible, but it is nevertheless true--some would miss this battle and
some that, and so, but one has missed none."

On the 29th of October, 1862, our army broke camp and moved in the
direction of Warrenton, which place we reached on the 11th of November.
In making this march the Sixty-first skirmished over the mountains at
Snecker's Gap, driving back a body of cavalry that was observing, if not
holding this position. From the ridge of the mountain we had a view that
in my judgment could not be equaled in Europe.

While the army was at Warrenton the order came removing McClellan and
appointing Burnside. For one I was glad of any change--it seemed to be
that no one could be more inefficient than McClellan. I remember so
expressing myself which was not a popular notion. One old Irishman of
Co. A, turned on me in hot anger, and asked, "Why do you say that? What
do you know about war, you little damned pie eater!"

In a few days we started out and reached Falmouth, a hamlet nearly
opposite Fredericksburg on the Rappahannock river on the 17th of
November. There were but a handful of