MILITARY: Sabre Strokes of the Pennsylvania Dragoons in the War of 1861-1865 - Chapter 1 Contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives by Judy Banja Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/pafiles.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/1pa/1picts/dornblaser/sabre-strokes.htm ________________________________________________ SABRE STROKES of the PENNSYLVANIA DRAGOONS in the WAR OF 1861-1865. INTERSPERSED WITH PERSONAL REMINISCENCES By T. F. DORNBLASER 13 PENNSYLVANIA DRAGOONS. CHAPTER I. LEAVING HOME - SALONA - LOCK HAVEN - HARRISBURG. THE morning of October twenty-first, eighteen hundred and sixty-one, was the day appointed for the company to meet at Lock Haven, to take the seven o'clock train for Harrisburg. The night previous, wagons and carriages started from Logansville, Tylersville, Nittany Hall, Clintonville, Hamburg, and Cedar Run, concentrating at Salona, where, a few hours after midnight, under a bright moon, the procession of vehicles was formed and headed for Lock Haven. Passing through Mill Hall Gap, we took a long lingering look at the dear old valley behind us. The gray light of the morning crowned the familiar mountain tops. A somber shadow covered the landscape, hiding from view the happy homes and laughing streams, from which many of us had never been separated a fortnight without suffering untold pangs from that incurable malady known as homesickness. To leave all this lovely scenery behind, with the doubtful prospect, to say the least, of ever setting foot within those Narrows again, it was not strange that a stillness came over us as solemn as that which 14 SABRE STROKES. filled the bosom of the mountain-sentinels that looked down on us from either side; and from their rocky lips, wreathed with evergreen, seemed to come to us, through the gentle zephyrs of the morning, a last sad farewell. It was my privilege to share a springy seat with a patriotic, cheerful citizen, who drove the team, and whose jovial mood helped to dispel any dejection of spirits. With no little regret we learned a year or so afterwards that this warm friend of the soldier, returning from Lock Haven on a dark night, and with horse and conveyance, was thrown over the high embankment into the dam above the Narrows, and found there a watery grave. At Mill Hall, and Flemington, our procession was lengthened by additions from Bald Eagle Valley. Arriving at Lock Haven, the 7 a.m. train was standing at the depot ready to take us on board, and impatient to carry us away from the many friends who had followed us to this point. The farewells were quickly spoken. Wives parted from their husbands, mothers embraced their sons, sisters kissed their brothers good-bye, fathers pressed our hands and proffered a word of advice, and the train moved out. The last we saw at the depot was a line of familiar faces bathed in tears; and the last words that lingered in my ears fell from a father's trembling lips, "Don't forget to pray." PENNSYLVANIA DRAGOONS. 15 Steaming out from Lock Haven across Bald Eagle bridge, and along the river bank, you may imagine the new sensations which came to some of us boys, who were taking our first ride on the cars. The telegraph poles seemed to fly in the opposite direction, and so dangerously near the window, that we preferred to occupy the end of the seat nearest the aisle. Unfortunately, a few of us had grown up in the country, where the locomotive whistle was not heard, where the noise most familiar to our ears was the old dinner-horn. The country down the valley of the Susquehanna was picturesque in mountain scenery, and rich in agricultural improvements. We reached Harrisburg about midday. The command was given to form line in front of the depot, and prepare to march to the camp ground. This was our first march, and in some respects it was a forced march, as some of the boys preferred to go in hacks, but that was unsoldier-like and contrary to orders. With a huge bundle on each shoulder, and an occasional umbrella raised to break the rays of a warm October sun, we footed it through the dusty highway to Camp Cameron, three miles south of the depot. Of course our bundles included only the loose baggage - the trunks and extra bedding were sent out by wagons. As we entered camp on that sunshiny afternoon, it seemed as if every tent in that vast encampment 16 SABRE STROKES. had emptied itself, to swell the crowd of spectators that lined the street on either side. The manly bearing of Captain Schaeffer's men, and I presume their soldierly endurance, made a favorable impression on Col. Wynkoop, who assigned our quarters in the centre of the regimental camp. A row of sixteen wedge-tents was allotted to the company - six men to occupy each tent. A marquee, a large field tent, stood apart at the head of the company, which was occupied by the captain and his two lieutenants. Loads of straw were hauled into camp for bedding, to which we helped ourselves freely, and prepared for the first night's lodging. When the hour came to retire, we found ourselves in pretty close quarters. In a tent whose ground measurement was seven by eight, with a ridge-pole nine feet from the ground, there was not much room left in which to entertain strangers, after six of us crawled in on top of a half dozen armfuls of straw and twice as many bundles of clothing. We managed, however, to make a comfortable bed. Before lying down to rest one suggested that we better read a chapter out of the old Bible. We had been school-boys together, we had left behind us Christian homes, and some of us were members of the Christian Church. A rule was unanimously adopted, to read a passage of Scripture in turn, every evening before retiring. A chapter was then read, and the boys laid down to rest for the night.