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Massachusetts (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
; but the hospitable multitude excelled on that occasion. The choicest supper was spread upon long tables, which were stretched out so as to barricade our way. My thousand men were never better fed or served, because mothers and daughters of Massachusetts were ministering to them. Our enthusiasm under such cheer and amid such surroundings underwent no abatement. All spoke to us in a language plainer and deeper than words: Go, fight for your flag, and free the land. From my boyhood the si taking my hand, pressed it warmly. A large crowd were waiting and interestedly watched our disembarkation. Every face in the promiscuous crowd which I saw had a look of apprehend sion or smothered passion. We might, like our comrades of Massachusetts, have trouble en route. To be prepared was my part. The line being formed facing me, I ordered Load with cartridges, load! wheeled into a column of platoons after the old fashion and started the march, following the city escort. We were
Broadway (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
he mud and slush of most unpropitious weather; but then the excitement ran high; nothing could dampen the patriotic fervor of the people, and crowds besides the Sons of Maine came to see us land. R. P. Buck, Esq., a native of Bucksport, was a fine-looking, well-dressed merchant, and the chairman of the committee. He took me by the arm and, led by the committee, regardless of moist clothes and wet feet, preceded by a military and police escort, the regiment marched via Battery Place and up Broadway to the White Street city armory. Twenty years after our walk in the middle of Broadway I dedicated a book to my conductor in these words: Whose heart beats with true loyalty to his country and to the Lord, his Saviour. From the time when he with other friends welcomed my regiment when en route to the field to the city of New York till to-day he has extended to me the tender offices of friendship and affection. Count Agenor de Gasparin. Translated from the French of Thomas Borel. Af
Breed's Hill (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
argest city, we met a marked demonstration. Food, drink, and flowers were brought to the cars and freely offered, but we could not delay, though the people asked to extend a more formal welcome. At Boston, early in the afternoon, a company of guards in spotless uniform and with wondrous perfection of drill paraded before our soldiers in their somber gray and escorted them through the eddies and whirlpools of city people, along the winding streets and out into the Common. Bunker Hill, Breed's Hill, the Old South Church, and other ancient sentinels, which had observed the beginnings of our liberty, looked solemnly and silently upon us as we passed. Surely, many of us would die before the boastful threat of Robert Toombs to count his slaves on Bunker Hill should be carried out. Boston Common! How beautiful, as we marched in, was its green, undulating surface; how pretty the lawns and little lakes; how grateful and refreshing the shade this hot June day. The governor, John A. And
New York (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
the arm and, led by the committee, regardless of moist clothes and wet feet, preceded by a military and police escort, the regiment marched via Battery Place and up Broadway to the White Street city armory. Twenty years after our walk in the middle of Broadway I dedicated a book to my conductor in these words: Whose heart beats with true loyalty to his country and to the Lord, his Saviour. From the time when he with other friends welcomed my regiment when en route to the field to the city of New York till to-day he has extended to me the tender offices of friendship and affection. Count Agenor de Gasparin. Translated from the French of Thomas Borel. After our men had entered the drill hall of the armory they unslung their knapsacks and arranged them near the wall for seats. As soon as there was order the Sons of Maine, by their committee, gave notice that they wished to present a flag to the regiment. Stewart L. Woodford, the youthful statesman, whose wife was a daughter of
Yorktown (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
y in your ranks that fittest pledge of a mother's love-her Bible. Each dear one has given some pledge that speaks of softer and sweeter hours. Your brethren in this hour of battle would give you a strong man's gift-your country's flag. Its blended stripes shall stream above you with protection. It is the flag of history. Those thirteen stripes tell the story of the colonial struggle, of the days of ‘76. They speak of the wilderness savage, of old Independence Hall, of Valley Forge and Yorktown. Those stars tell the story of our nation's growth; how it has come from weakness to strength, from thirteen States to thirty-four, until the gleam that shines at sunrise over the forests of Maine crimsons the sunset's dying beams on the golden sands of California. Let not the story of the flag be folded down and lost forever. . . We give this flag to you, and with it we give our prayers, and not ours alone; but as the loved home circle gathers, far in the Pine Tree State, gray-haired
Brunswick, Me. (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
nd the death of fathers, brothers, and sons, our sensitive, afflicted home people would not tolerate what they called traitorous talk. They went so far as to frown upon any vigorous young men who clung to the home roof, and found means to compel blatant offenders to hush their utterances, and shake out to the breeze some semblance of the old flag. This conduct was imperious; it was earnest; it had its counterpart in the South; it meant war. As we came whistling into the large depot at Brunswick, where Bowdoin College is located, professors and students, forgetting their wonted respectful distance and distinction, mingled together in the same eager crowd, and added manly vigor to the voices of enthusiastic lads who were crowning the fences and gravelcars and other sightly places. Unexpected tears of interest, warm hand-pressures, and God speed you, my son, revealed to some former students, now soldiers, tenderness of heart not before dreamed of among those gray-haired instructor
Meridian Hill (United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
ed at college, and knowing the need of removing at any cost a universal depression, I consulted with my commissary and arranged to give the entire command a breakfast at Willard's for fifty cents a man. Just think of it, to feed a whole regiment at a hotel My army friends did laugh, and I had to confess my lack of wisdom according to ordinary reasoning, for I thus became personally responsible for the large amount. But after a spirited correspondence the State finally settled the account. I reported at an early hour on June 8th to Colonel Joseph K. F. Mansfield, Inspector General of the Army, commanding the Department of Washington. He was already frosted with age and long service. Probably from his own Christian character no officer of the army then could have inspired me with more reverence than he. At that time Mansfield appeared troubled and almost crushed by an overwhelming amount of detail thrust upon him; but after two hours delay he assigned me my camp on Meridian Hill.
Baltimore, Md. (Maryland, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
Chapter 9: en route to the front; passage through Baltimore; arrival in Washington The varying scenes which interested the soldiers and the people during that triumph on your avenging march, as those steel fingers point the way through Baltimore to Sumter. That flag shall hover with more than a mother's care over your heause to abate. After the bloody passage of the Sixth Massachusetts through Baltimore a few days before our arrival in that city, the succeeding troops from the noip and pretended loyalty of smiling villains. Matters just then, not only in Baltimore, but in many other parts of Maryland, were dark and uncertain. It was a crit muskets had much to do with the quietude of our passage. From this time on, Baltimore communication was never again broken. The evening of June 7th, as we steamed into the ample Baltimore & Ohio Depot at Washington, we felt that our eventful journey was over. However proud and independent the individual soldier might feel,
West Point (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
ic sentiment, he seized a glass of water and said: I join you in a drink of cold water, the only beverage fit for a soldier. You should have seen, Mr. Buck added, how we all hustled around to get our glasses of water! Surely, my conduct did not appear very gracious, but I was eager to keep strong drink of any kind from the regiment, and knew that I must set an example to the officers. I did not dream that our hosts would thus follow my lead. My wife and children had come down from West Point. They joined me at the hotel and after dinner bade me and my regiment good-by as the ferryboat to New Jersey left the New York slip, many men of the regiment courteously uncovering in their honor and waving them a farewell. Philadelphia gave its entertainment. The rain was over. We received a delightful supper between eight and ten; abundance of food on tables set in squares. Ladies clad in white and adorned with flowers, with gentle voices, made us feel that we were already heroes,
Bucksport (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 2.10
ork association called the Sons of Maine met our steamer at the pier on North River. Unfortunately for us, it was a stormy day and the rain poured incessantly. In ordinary times there would have been little stir in New York City on such an arrival, particularly in the mud and slush of most unpropitious weather; but then the excitement ran high; nothing could dampen the patriotic fervor of the people, and crowds besides the Sons of Maine came to see us land. R. P. Buck, Esq., a native of Bucksport, was a fine-looking, well-dressed merchant, and the chairman of the committee. He took me by the arm and, led by the committee, regardless of moist clothes and wet feet, preceded by a military and police escort, the regiment marched via Battery Place and up Broadway to the White Street city armory. Twenty years after our walk in the middle of Broadway I dedicated a book to my conductor in these words: Whose heart beats with true loyalty to his country and to the Lord, his Saviour. From
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