OUR JOURNEY SOUTH.
Upon our arrival in Philadelphia we heard a signal gun and learned
that it was to inform the people connected with the cooper’s shop that
we were coming. We marched to that place and found a nice breakfast
served by the first ladies of the city. This was the only home-like
meal we had received since leaving Massachusetts, and our hearts
went out to the loyal people, and our thanks were expressed in three
rousing cheers for them. But we hastened on, and soon took the cars for
Washington. At Baltimore we left the cars and marched across the city.
We passed through Pitt Street, where the sixth Massachusetts, a few
months before, had marked the route with their blood. Every throat was
opened as we sang “John Brown,” but our knees were a little weak, for
we expected a stone would strike us at any moment. We found the roof of
the depot on the Washington side of the city filled with bullet holes,
the result of the riot of April 19.
From Baltimore to Washington we passed soldiers doing guard duty on
the railroad, and for the first time saw men being punished at the
guard-house. We saw one man with his head through a barrel, another
carrying a heavy log of wood. At night we arrived in Washington and
were landed at the Soldiers’ Rest. A Pennsylvania regiment was ahead
of us, so we were obliged to wait until they had been to supper. We
marched into the barracks before the tables were reset. The waiters
removed the tin dishes, then jumped on to the tables and with dirty
brooms began to sweep as they walked along. This was too much for
Massachusetts. On the tables not cleared were remnants of the meal left
by the Pennsylvanians. Soon the air was filled with bread, pork and
tin dippers. The waiters were unable to stand the attack and retreated
in good order. After quiet was restored our men cleared the tables
and the rations were brought in, consisting of mouldy soft bread,
boiled salt pork and very poor coffee. Colonel Hincks being informed
of our treatment found the officer in charge and gave him _religious
instructions_. We received nothing better that night, but the next
morning when the 19th marched in to breakfast our colonel’s “draft had
been honored” and we had a square meal.
The Pennsylvania regiment occupying the barracks, we had to sleep on
the ground. The night was warm, and being very tired we were soon fast
asleep. About four o’clock we were awakened by something grunting
around us, and found that we were in the midst of a _drove of hogs_. We
had never seen hogs running at large at home, and believing some one’s
swine had escaped from the pen, we concluded to do a neighborly act and
catch them. The race began, but with poor success for us, as they could
run a mile in 2.40 or less.
After our sport we found an old pump, where we made our morning toilet.
We boys did not mind this new mode of living much; we sang, said “it
was all in the three years,” and was nothing after you got used to it.
Not so with the older men. I remember one instance: returning from the
pump I saw one of the men leaning against the barracks, the tears
streaming down his cheeks. I said, “What is the matter, Peter?” He
replied, “I didn’t think I was coming out here to be rooted over by
d—d hogs.” “Oh,” I said, “if we get nothing worse than this I won’t
complain.” “Well,” said he, “if we do I won’t stay.” He was discharged
soon after.
After breakfast we slung knapsacks and marched down Pennsylvania Avenue
to our camp ground on Meridian Hill. We had brought our tents from
Massachusetts and all our camp equipage, including bed sacks, but we
could find nothing to fill them with, so we spread them on the ground
empty. The ground was filled with gravel stones and was not as “soft as
downy pillows are,” but so hard that I believe the imprints of those
stones are on me yet. At Meridian Hill we began active drilling. The
duties of the field officers were divided, Colonel Hincks taking charge
of the battalion drills, Lieutenant-Colonel Devereaux the manual, while
Major How had the instruction of the guard. We were encamped on the
side of the hill, and marching in battalion drill was very hard, yet
“from early morn till dewy eve” we were executing company or battalion
movements.
Since our arrival in Washington all had a fear of being poisoned; we
hesitated to buy camp pies of any but old negro aunties, and a guard
was constantly posted with loaded musket over the spring which supplied
us with water. One night a nervous comrade was on duty, and thinking
that, in the darkness, he saw some one approaching to poison the
spring, discharged his piece. Immediately the camp was alarmed. Without
waiting to fall in line the cry went up “Row! Row!” and without muskets
all rushed for the spring. The officers cried “Halt! Halt! Fall in!”
but you might as well have undertaken to stop a Dakota blizzard, and
not till the men had been to the spring and investigated was order
restored. The next day a square was formed and a short but impressive
address was delivered by Colonel Hincks which had the desired effect.
On Sundays at this camp we were marched out by companies, seated in
the shade and the Articles of War were read to us by our officers. As
I remember them whatever you did you were to be shot, “or such other
punishment as may be inflicted by courts-martial.”
At Meridian Hill we had our first Sunday morning inspection; the order
was for _all_ men to be in line. This included cooks, teamsters, clerks
and all other detailed men. To the regular members of the company it
was a grand sight to see these extra duty men in line. Fowler, the
wagoner, had not seen his musket since it was given him at Lynnfield
and knew nothing of the manual, neither did Uncle Burrill, who was
regimental mail carrier. Lieutenant-Colonel Devereaux came down the
line and the men threw up their guns for inspection. Fowler had watched
the men on his right, and when his turn came threw his gun up in fair
shape. The colonel took it, looked at the musket, then at Fowler. “What
do you mean by bringing such a musket for inspection?” “It ought to
be all right,” said Fowler, “it is bran new and I have never used it
since it was given to me.” With a reprimand the colonel, passing on,
soon came to Uncle Burrill, who was not quite as sharp as Fowler, and
had not watched the men on his right. When the colonel stood before
him uncle remained quiet and modestly blushed. The colonel surveyed
him from head to foot. “Why don’t you bring up your musket?” Uncle
took it in his _right hand_ and pushed it towards him. “Don’t you know
any better than that?” asked the lieutenant-colonel. “No,” said Uncle
B.; “I wish that I hadn’t come out here, I was sure that I should get
into trouble if I did.” With a smile the lieutenant-colonel passed
on, and after that, extra duty men were excused from Sunday morning
inspections.