By Rev. Charles Babbidge, Chaplain.
Should a motto ever be needed for some prospective medal commemorative
of the "Old Sixth Reg." none would seem to be more appropriate than a
quotation from Virgil,--"Primus tentare viam." Though but little honor
attaches to being first, where all were equally ready to be foremost,
still, the "chances of war" gave some little advantage to this fortunate
military body. Its ready re-response to the call "To Arms," served to
awaken a similar enthusiasm in all the other military organizations of
the Commonwealth. The admirable state of discipline to which the
regiment had been brought by its accomplished and efficient commander,
Col. Edward F. Jones, and his subordinate officers, was fully competent
to secure the respect and confidence of the multitudes of patriotic
citizens with whom it came in contact after leaving Massachusetts; and
it is only doing justice to the soldiers of this regiment to say, that
amid all the excitement of the commencement of a campaign, and all the
flattering attentions and entertainments which they received from every
quarter, and on all occasions, they maintained the solid, steady
deportment of soldiers well trained, of citizens accustomed to good
society, and of patriots ready and willing to do whatever these
qualities imply and require.
It can hardly be said that "the order to march" came unlooked for,
though it most certainly was sudden. The tender of the services of the
regiment had long since been in the hands of Gov. Andrew; meetings of
the field and staff officers had been held; there was a free and
thorough interchange of opinions and sentiments among the line officers;
and not a single soldier could be found who had not fully digested all
the particulars of a possible future.
The ready response of our citizen-soldiers to the call of the governor
furnishes an apt illustration of the peculiar character of our people.
Under a government that requires the constant maintenance of a strong
military force, "General Orders" would have been issued to the various
camps and garrisons scattered throughout the country. When danger
threatened us it became manifest at once, that every peaceful village
was a garrison, and every city a fortified camp. It was often a subject
of merriment while we, like Christopher North were "under canvas," to
relate the particular circumstances of time, place, and occupation at
the moment when each of us found himself suddenly transformed into a
soldier. Each had his story to tell of his numerous "hair's breadth
escapes," as through mud, snow and darkness he made his way to the
appointed rendezvous, on the morning of April 16th.
In Lowell the regiment paraded in Huntington Hall, and there received a
cordial welcome from the people of that city. Taking the cars we arrived
in Boston about noon, and were assigned quarters in one of the armories
in Faneuil Hall. With a view to better accomodations, the regiment in
the afternoon marched to Boylston Hall, and there prepared for as
comfortable a bivouac as circumstances permitted.
Up to this time the weather had been as gloomy as war and dripping
clouds could make it. Having (figuratively) pitched our tents in
Boylston Hall, the discipline of camp-life was at once established, and
communication with the world outside, was largely cut off. This however
did not interfere with the free admission of many tokens of regard from
friends outside, in the form of refreshments of various kinds.
Two memorable incidents of the evening will long be remembered. The
pretty and graceful daughter of Col. Jones was adopted, with all the
honors, as "Daughter of the Regiment"; and secondly the comfortable and
becoming overcoats prepared with wise forethought for the regiment were
issued. The motley outer-garments, in which, up to this moment, we had
found shelter from the storm, were at once discarded. In our new
garments we not only found great comfort;--we also felt that the inner
as well as the outer man could boast a resemblance to "regular" troops.
On the morning of the 17th we were marched to the State House, then and
there to receive the salutations of the Governor, and also to receive,
what at the moment struck some of us as a pretty forcible reminder that
we were now occupying positions that were entirely new to us.
Drawn up in military array in Doric Hall we were each of us "donated"
two blue flannel shirts and some corresponding under garments. This
gratuitous equipment implied _service_. To those of us who within a
twelvemonth had figured in the hall over our heads, as representatives
of the sovereign people, it indicated a very marked change of
circumstances.
Among other tokens of the confidence reposed in our patriotism and
prowess, a heavy cavalry revolver was bestowed upon each of the field
and staff officers. As these could not be conveniently carried, on the
return march, by those who had been made the happy recipients of these
bulky favors, they were bundled together and consigned for safe-keeping
to the Chaplain, to be borne on the line of march back to Boylston Hall.
Why that functionary should have been chosen to carry a whole armory of
weapons, in the sight of the admiring crowds that lined the streets of
Boston remains a question. Opinions are equally divided as to whether,
_as chaplain_ he would be most likely to prevent a hasty and rash
use of fire-arms; or whether, he was _de facto_ a "common carrier,"
on the ground that ministers were made and designed for "bearing
burdens."
Early in the afternoon, the regiments entered the cars of the Worcester
Railroad, and the march to Washington was fairly begun. So long as
daylight permitted, tokens of the uprising of the people of the
commonwealth were everywhere visible; and when darkness had settled down
around us, we caught glimpses of excited multitudes as the cars dashed
on without stopping, by the brilliantly illuminated depots and
settlements along the route. Our reception at Springfield was of a truly
jubilant character. Refreshments in great profusion, and of the most
appetizing kind were furnished and received a most cordial welcome
within our hungry ranks. The streets were illuminated, and cannon
thundered in every direction. Our stay was a short one; and we rattled
on and on until the morning revealed the fact that we were in
Connecticut and not far from New York.
It will require a more gifted pen than the one that traces these lines
to picture the march of the "Old Sixth" through the city of New York.
Never before had so _deep_ because so _peculiar_ an enthusiasm
pervaded the people of that vast metropolis. Patriotism, under its
normal and customary forms, had, on many previous occasions, been
wrought up to an intense height; but now it was not to celebrate their
national independence, but to secure their national existence, or
rather, to settle the question whether the American people were, or were
not a Nation.
At the St. Nicholas and other places, the wants of the regiment were
sumptuously provided for. At the Astor House, the field and staff
officers were entertained in a manner that left nothing to be desired.
Once more on the march, the regiment passed through the crowded streets,
everywhere receiving welcome plaudits until they reached the ferry that
conducted them to Hoboken, and the places en route to Baltimore and
Washington. As we passed into the ferry boats to cross the river, a
voice was heard above the tumult of the place and hour, "Good luck to
you, boys, but some of you will never return by this route;" a
prediction speedily fulfilled. Within about twenty-four hours, three of
our number had been transferred to a higher department.
The passage through Delaware to Philadelphia was not marked by any
incidents worthy of notice. Their long and weary pilgrimage had begun to
change a brisk, wide-awake regiment into a common-place body of weary
pilgrims, glad to find a shelter, without much questioning as to what it
might be. Quarters were assigned us in the Gerard House which happened
at that time to be unoccupied. For a brief period quiet ruled the hour,
and the weary soldier had begun his dreams of home and happiness long
before he was ready to stretch his limbs upon the mattresses that
covered the floors of the spacious hotel.
Suddenly the "Long-roll" was heard echoing along the streets and through
the halls of the Gerard House. The accoutrements and garments that had
been doffed in readiness for sleep were hastely resumed; and at the word
"Fall in," every man was in his place.
The "weight of affliction" in this crisis fell upon the field and staff
officers. They had but just assembled in the drawing-room of the
Continental Hotel, and gone through with those preliminary forms that
are quite as indicative of a good appetite as of good manners, and were
quiet taking their places at the table, amid the sumptuous surroundings
of a dining hall at that time scarcely equalled on the continent, when
Col. Jones entered the apartment, with the abrupt salutation,
"Gentlemen, to your posts; we start for Baltimore immediately, the
regiment awaits the order to march." "_Væ mihi_!" the writer of
this paper felt that _he_ might, under the circumstances of the
moment, appropriate a few minutes of time's rapid flight to contemplate
in sorrow and silence the scene of disappointment and woe. The little he
still retained of classic lore brought back images of the Harpies, as he
had read of them in Virgil. And even Sancho Panza thrust in his bullet
head, with an asinine smile, as the writer recalled poor Sancho's
distress at not sharing the feast so tantalizingly spread before him.
But, "hurry up" became the word when the drums and fifes gave notice
that the regiment was on the move, and that somebody would "get left" if
they did not practise the "_Pas redouble_."
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