The Pennsylvania Governor, Curtin, cried to us for help; the President
called out from the White House that he wanted us to come down to the
Border; our Governor, Seymour, said go, and accordingly we hurriedly
kissed those we loved best, and started for the wars. Let us look at
the record in order:--
_Monday, June 15th._--News comes that the rebel General Lee is on the
march for the free States. The President issues a Proclamation calling
immediately into the United States service one hundred thousand men
from the States of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Maryland and Western Virginia;
supplemented by a call on New York for twenty thousand more, all to
serve for six months, unless sooner discharged. To this proclamation
the various brigades of New York State National Guards respond with the
greatest promptitude and alacrity. Special orders leap from numberless
head-quarters, while armories and arsenals are quickly alive with the
first nervous movements of excitement.
_Tuesday, 16th._--The whole city is moved with a common impulse. The
rebel invasion; the startling call of the President; the alarming cry
of Governor Curtin on New York for instant help; the energetic action
of our State authorities; the thrice-tried patriotism of Massachusetts,
reported as springing again to the rescue of Government with all her
available militia force--all these conspire to animate every patriotic
bosom with a fresh "On to Richmond" zeal. Militia men lose no time in
reporting for duty, and volunteers bustle about to secure places in the
ranks of their favorite regiments. A dozen regiments are under marching
orders--a good deal of excitement and chagrin is caused by the rumored
passage of the famous Massachusetts Sixth through the city, bound for
the seat of war, beating New York a second time. The rumor proves to be
unfounded. Orders are issued by Brigadier-General Jesse C. Smith to his
Brigade, now comprising the 23d, 57th, 52d and 56th, to make instant
preparations to leave for Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for short
service--three months or less, according to the emergency; there to
report to Major-General Couch, commanding the Department of the
Susquehanna.
_Wednesday, 17th._--The gallant Seventh is the first in the field from
the State, as is fitting. They are off at an early hour of the day,
followed in the evening by the Eighth and Seventy-First. Martial
enthusiasm pervades all classes, welling up from the several armories
and overflowing the twin cities.
_Thursday, 18th._--The Brooklyn Twenty-Third are ordered to assemble at
their armory, corner of Fulton and Orange streets, at 7 o'clock, A.M.,
fully armed and equipped, and with two days' cooked rations in their
haversacks, to march at 8 o'clock precisely. The gallant fellows are up
with the larks: a hundred last things are done with nervous haste;
father and brother give and receive the parting brave hand-grip; mother
and sister and sweetheart receive and give the last warm kiss; and
with wet eyes, but in good heart, we set out for the rendezvous. There
is remarkable promptitude in our departure. At the instant of 8
o'clock,--the advertised hour of starting,--the column is moving down
Fulton street toward the ferry. The weather is auspicious--the sun
kindly veiling his face as if in very sympathy with us as we struggle
along under our unaccustomed burden. From the armory all the way down
to the river it is a procession of Fairy-Land. The windows flutter with
cambric; the streets are thronged with jostling crowds of people,
hand-clapping and cheering the departing patriots; while up and down
the curving street as far as you can see, the gleaming line of bayonets
winds through the crowding masses--the men neatly uniformed and
stepping steadily as one. Bosom friends dodge through the crowd to keep
along near the dear one, now and then getting to his side to say some
last word of counsel, or to receive commission to attend to some
forgotten item of business, or say good-bye to some absent friend. As
we make our first halt on the ferry-boat the exuberant vitality of the
boys breaks out in song--every good fellow swearing tremendously, (but
piously) to himself, from time to time, that he is going to give the
rebels pandemonium, alternating the resolution with another equally
fervid and sincere that he means to "drink" himself "stone-blind" on
"hair-oil". What connection there is in this sandwich of resolutions
may be perhaps clear to the old campaigner. To passing vessels and
spectators on either shore the scene must be inspiriting--a steamboat
glittering with bayonets and packed with a grey-suited crowd plunging
out from a hidden slip into the stream, and a mighty voice of song
bursting from the mass and flowing far over the water. To us who are
_magna pars_ of the event, the moment is grand. Up Fulton street, New
York, and down Broadway amid the usual crowds of those great
thoroughfares, who waved us and cheered us generously on our patriotic
way, and we are soon at the Battery where without halting we proceed on
board the steamboat "John Potter" and stack arms. There is running to
and fro of friends in pursuit of oranges and lemons--so cool and
refreshing on the hot march--and a dozen little trifles with which
haversacks are soon stuffed. One public-spirited individual in the
crowd seizes the basket of an ancient orange-woman, making good his
title in a very satisfactory way, and tosses the glowing fruit
indiscriminately among the troops, who give him back their best "Bully
Boy!" with a "Tiger!" added. Happy little incidents on every side serve
to wile away a half hour, then the "all a-shore!" is sounded, the final
good-bye spoken, the plank hauled in, and away we sail. A pleasant
journey _via_ Amboy and Camden brings us to Philadelphia at the close
of the day. There we find a bountiful repast awaiting us at the
Soldiers' Home Saloon, after partaking of which we make our way by a
long and wearisome march to the Harrisburg Depot. At night-fall we are
put aboard a train of freight and cattle cars rudely fitted up, a part
of them at least, with rough pine boards for seats. The men of the
Twenty-Third Regiment having, up to this period of their existence,
missed somehow the disciplining advantages of "traveling in the
steerage," or as emigrants or cattle, cannot be expected to appreciate
at sight the luxury of the style of conveyance to which they are thus
suddenly introduced. But we tumble aboard and dispose ourselves for a
miserable night. A few of us are glum, and revolve horrible thoughts;
but the majority soon come to regard the matter as such a stupendous
swindle as to be positively ridiculous. They accordingly grow merry as
the night waxes, and make up in song what they lack of sleep.
_Friday, 19th._--The darkest night has its morrow. We reach Harrisburg
thankfully a little after daybreak, and bid adieu, with many an
ill-suppressed imprecation, to the ugly serpent that has borne us
tormentingly from Philadelphia. Just sixty-four hours have elapsed
since the orders were promulgated summoning the Brigade to arms. We are
marched at once to Camp Curtin, some three miles out of town, and in
the afternoon countermarched to town and thence across the Susquehanna
to the Heights of Bridgeport--the latter being accomplished through a
rain storm. As we enter the fort the Eighth and Seventy-First,
N.Y.S.N.G., which had got a few hours' start of us, move out, taking
the cars for Shippensburg on a reconnoissance.