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Hesseltine (search for this): chapter 7
lived in tents half buried in snow, often drilling in snow knee deep, with the mercury at or below zero, till February 18, 1862, at which date we dug ourselves out of several feet of snow and ice and took train for Boston. About midnight we found ourselves in the Cradle of Liberty, where, it was supposed, we were to be rocked to sleep, but I don't remember to have seen a single sleeping soldier that night. On the twentieth a battalion of the regiment (four companies) (Colonel Dow and Major Hesseltine) was marched to Long wharf and down between decks of the good steamship Mississippi, in which for many days and nights we were literally rocked to sleep. (The six companies of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Rust commanding, sailed from New York.) The next day our voyage began, and before it ended the boys experienced all the charms of life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep. As we rolled and pitched on the passage to Fort Monroe, many a luckless soldier went skating d
y go. And does not the providence of God indicate that it is my duty to rally for the strife? Oh, the terrible, the thrice terrible necessity! But it must be met. Yours affectionately, Levi. But there is a long gap between this period and the beginning of my history. In 1833 two notable events occurred. First, the Anti-Slavery Society was born. Then, according to the record—which I have been assured is absolutely correct—a boy was born in the town of Union, Me., Lincoln county (now Knox), adjoining Hope, adjoining Liberty, and in process of time this boy necessarily became, in the main, a hopeful union, Lincoln, liberty-loving, American citizen. On that April day, when a gun-carriage went rumbling past my store, corner Beacon and Tremont streets, bearing the bodies of Ladd and Whitney, killed in Baltimore, I recorded a vow. As soon thereafter as possible, I turned the key on my mercantile business, and on the twenty-first day of October, 1861, my name was writ large on t
events occurred. First, the Anti-Slavery Society was born. Then, according to the record—which I have been assured is absolutely correct—a boy was born in the town of Union, Me., Lincoln county (now Knox), adjoining Hope, adjoining Liberty, and in process of time this boy necessarily became, in the main, a hopeful union, Lincoln, liberty-loving, American citizen. On that April day, when a gun-carriage went rumbling past my store, corner Beacon and Tremont streets, bearing the bodies of Ladd and Whitney, killed in Baltimore, I recorded a vow. As soon thereafter as possible, I turned the key on my mercantile business, and on the twenty-first day of October, 1861, my name was writ large on the enlistment roll; and from that date my time and means were devoted to the business of inducing men to enlist in the Thirteenth Maine Regiment, which was to be attached to General Butler's division for special service,—until the regiment was mustered into the United States service at the arsen<
er manoeuvres I shuffled that hempen coil, and finding that I was not Hawes de combat, nor my zeal dampened (but with some loss of dignity as a soldier), I went in search of less tight-fitting and clinging garments. Of the 1,500 soldiers aboard, not a soul of them knew anything of the circus I had had. The next morning came in with a cloudless sky, the ship on an even keel, on a glassy sea. As I went forward I looked over the rail and noticed that the water had a peculiar color. To Sergeant Simmons, who was to be my guest at the galley, I said: We are in shoal water, and looking ahead, added, and we are shoaling fast. We shall be aground in less than five minutes. However, let us make sure of our potatoes. As we went below I heard the gong sound in the engine room, and at that instant the ship came to a full stop, but without a perceptible jar, on Frying-Pan Shoals—and within the five minutes specified. Adequately to describe our experience during the eleven hours we were stran
James F. Whitney (search for this): chapter 7
urred. First, the Anti-Slavery Society was born. Then, according to the record—which I have been assured is absolutely correct—a boy was born in the town of Union, Me., Lincoln county (now Knox), adjoining Hope, adjoining Liberty, and in process of time this boy necessarily became, in the main, a hopeful union, Lincoln, liberty-loving, American citizen. On that April day, when a gun-carriage went rumbling past my store, corner Beacon and Tremont streets, bearing the bodies of Ladd and Whitney, killed in Baltimore, I recorded a vow. As soon thereafter as possible, I turned the key on my mercantile business, and on the twenty-first day of October, 1861, my name was writ large on the enlistment roll; and from that date my time and means were devoted to the business of inducing men to enlist in the Thirteenth Maine Regiment, which was to be attached to General Butler's division for special service,—until the regiment was mustered into the United States service at the arsenal in Augu<
were devoted to the business of inducing men to enlist in the Thirteenth Maine Regiment, which was to be attached to General Butler's division for special service,—until the regiment was mustered into the United States service at the arsenal in Augus ordered a peremptory halt. The order to halt was not always obeyed with such alacrity. At Fort Monroe we received General Butler and staff. We had previously discovered that the Thirty-first Massachusetts Regiment was stowed somewhere down forwaport anchor had been let go, notwithstanding the fact that that end of the ship was already stuck fast in the mud. As General Butler came on deck he asked the captain, What's that? pointing to the flag, Union down, in the port fore rigging. Flag ofice of being drowned in an iron kettle or vacating their quarters. No deaths by drowning were reported. Doubtless General Butler comprehended the gravity of the situation, but he was outwardly cool and collected during the entire day, and activel
31, 1861. Here we lived in tents half buried in snow, often drilling in snow knee deep, with the mercury at or below zero, till February 18, 1862, at which date we dug ourselves out of several feet of snow and ice and took train for Boston. About midnight we found ourselves in the Cradle of Liberty, where, it was supposed, we were to be rocked to sleep, but I don't remember to have seen a single sleeping soldier that night. On the twentieth a battalion of the regiment (four companies) (Colonel Dow and Major Hesseltine) was marched to Long wharf and down between decks of the good steamship Mississippi, in which for many days and nights we were literally rocked to sleep. (The six companies of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Rust commanding, sailed from New York.) The next day our voyage began, and before it ended the boys experienced all the charms of life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep. As we rolled and pitched on the passage to Fort Monroe, many a luckless sol
terrible necessity! But it must be met. Yours affectionately, Levi. But there is a long gap between this period and the beginning of my history. In 1833 two notable events occurred. First, the Anti-Slavery Society was born. Then, according to the record—which I have been assured is absolutely correct—a boy was born in the town of Union, Me., Lincoln county (now Knox), adjoining Hope, adjoining Liberty, and in process of time this boy necessarily became, in the main, a hopeful union, Lincoln, liberty-loving, American citizen. On that April day, when a gun-carriage went rumbling past my store, corner Beacon and Tremont streets, bearing the bodies of Ladd and Whitney, killed in Baltimore, I recorded a vow. As soon thereafter as possible, I turned the key on my mercantile business, and on the twenty-first day of October, 1861, my name was writ large on the enlistment roll; and from that date my time and means were devoted to the business of inducing men to enlist in the Thirtee
t volume, for I knew something was going to happen. Just then a sea struck the ship under the counter, lifted her endwise, and dropped her so suddenly that the would-be commander sat down, in his best clothes, in the not over-clean water. I turned my head to wipe away tears—or was it the dirty water he had splashed in my face?—and then sympathetically remarked, You have dropped something, sir. He disappeared so quickly that I failed to get more than a mental photograph of the young son of Mars, and the water closed over a stern reality. At eight o'clock, after four hours bailing, we were relieved and treated to a breakfast fit for the gods. As I presented my tin cup and plate to the black knight at the galley, he poured half a pint of coffee into my cup and deposited one boiled potato in the centre of my ten-inch plate—sans salt, sans pepper, sans everything. I declare, on the honor of a soldier, that I never before saw a boiled potato look so, utterly lonesome. I think that <
rived a day or two in advance of us. Our comrades who had sailed from New York had arrived while we were stranded at Hilton Head, and as we came to anchor gave us hearty cheers from the shore, and we returned the greeting with interest, but we had no further communication with them for three days. We had another practical illustration of the fact that doubtful things are very uncertain. A northerly gale kicked up such an ugly surf that we couldn't land till late in the afternoon of the twenty-second, when we literally staggered ashore. An officer of a Maine battery captured me and took me to his quarters and gave me a square meal and a good bed, and for twelve solid hours I forgot that I was a soldier. After an 8 o'clock substantial breakfast I reported for duty with my company; and on the whole I was glad that I was alive. Before I left the ship the captain said to, me that he never before saw so fine a body of men. Why, said he, they have a right to mutiny. I would consider
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