The days during October and November were clear, but the nights were cold and the condensation, after sunset, caused a dense mist to hang over the camp during the night. With the rising sun it gradually disappeared, first from the higher ground, but hanging in a thick cloud over the lower portions for an hour or so. From the positions of the Nineteenth and Twentieth regiments, it was then impossible to see the camp or parade ground of the Seventh Michigan regiment, but on many days the men listened to the band of the Michigan regiment at guard mounting, hearing the commands of the officers and the rattle of the muskets at inspection, on the low ground. It was possible from the various sounds to follow the ceremony from the beginning to end, without a person being visible,—so enveloped were they in the fog, while the camp of the Battery on the high ground, stood out clearly and distinctly in the sunlight.
Often, too, the doleful strains of the muffled drum and the fife were heard as the burial detail bore a comrade through the miasmatic cloud to his final resting place, but none of the participants could be seen.
The plan for the removal of the tents of the regiment at Camp Benton, on October 26, was unique in conception and novel in execution. The camp literally walked and this was an actual reality much more true to conception than the ‘fake’ removal of the trees of ‘Burnham Wood to Dunsinane,’ in Macbeth.
It was decided to remove the entire regimental camp up the