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B. F. Butler (search for this): chapter 106
the captain, whom they put in irons, and wanted to hang. I regret to say that they did not do it. During the greater portion of that forenoon we were occupied in trying to get the Maryland off the sandbar on which she was grounded. From our decks we could see the men in file trying to rock her, so as to facilitate our tugging. These men were without water and without food, were well conducted and uncomplaining, and behaved, in all respects, like heroes. They were under the command of Col. Butler, and 1 regret that that gentleman did not car e more for the comforts of men whose subsequent pluck proved that nothing was too good for them. During the endeavors to get the Maryland afloat, we had some idle time on our hands, and your humble servant employed some of it in composing a Seventh Regiment song, which is now in rehearsal by the vocalists of the corps. See song entitled The Seventh, at page 17, Poetry and Incidents. On the afternoon of the 22d we landed at the Annapoli
B. M. Nevers (search for this): chapter 106
, that he had not eaten any thing for thirty hours. There was not, thank God, a haversack in our regiment that was not emptied into the hands of these ill-treated heroes, nor a flask that was not at their disposal. I am glad to pay them tribute here, and mentally doff my cap. Our march lay through an arid, sandy, tobacco-growing country. The sun poured on our heads like hot lava. The Sixth and Second companies were sent on for skirmishing duty, under the command of Captains Clarke and Nevers, the latter commanding as senior officer. A car, on which was placed a howitzer, loaded with grape and canister, headed the column, manned by the engineer and artillery corps, commanded by Lieut. Bunting. This was the rallying point of the skirmishing party, on which, in case of difficulty, they could fall back. In the centre of the column came the cars laden with medical stores, and bearing our sick and wounded, while the extreme rear was brought up with a second howitzer, loaded also wi
Marshall Lefferts (search for this): chapter 106
y of the regiment should be an example to others. I have now to finish without bringing our journey up to here. But let that rest for my next letter. I wish, however, before I conclude, to state that nothing could have been more effective or energetic than the movements of the Engineer Corps, to whom we were indebted for the rebuilding of a bridge in an incredibly short space of time. The secret of this forced march, as well as our unexpected descent on Annapolis, was the result of Col. Lefferts' judgment, which has since been sustained by events. Finding that the line along the Potomac was closed, and the route to Washington by Baltimore equally impracticable, he came to the conclusion that Annapolis, commanding, as it did, the route to the Capital, must of necessity be made the basis of military operations. It was important to the Government to have a free channel through which to transport troops, and this post presented the readiest means. The fact that since then all the
Caesar Augustus (search for this): chapter 106
Doc. 101.--the Seventh Regiment.---how it got from New York to Washington. the Capitol, Washington, Saturday, April 27, 1861. We are here. Those three words sum up as much as Napier's Peccavi, when he took Scinde, and we all feel somewhat as Mr. Caesar Augustus must have felt when he had crossed the Rubicon. It is almost unnecessary for me to detail to you the events of the day on which we left New York. The indefatigable efforts of that ubiquitous and persevering individual, the reporter, has left me little to do. Nevertheless, the scene at the armory on Friday was one to be commemorated. For the first time since its formation, the Seventh Regiment left its native city on active service. All day long, from an early hour in the morning, young men in uniforms or civilian's dress, might have been seen hurrying up and down Broadway, with anomalous-looking bundles under their arms. Dandies, who were the pride of club windows, were not above brown paper parcels; military
Longfellow (search for this): chapter 106
ar going to a German party in Fifth-avenue. It was more like a festivity than a march. Those fine old songs, the chorusses of which were familiar to all, were sung with sweet voice. We were assured many times, in melodious accents, that the whiskey bottle was empty on the shelf, and several individuals of that prominent, but not respectable class known as bummers, were invited to meet us on Canaan's happy shore. The brave old Harvard song of Upi dee was started, and, shameful to say, Mr. Longfellow's Excelsior seemed naturally to adapt itself to the tune. I do not think that the pious monks of St. Bernard would have been edified, had they heard themselves alluded to in that profane mu.sic. Our arrival at Philadelphia took place at 4 o'clock. We slept in the cars, awaiting orders from our Colonel, but at daylight hunger — and it may be thirst — becoming imperious, we sallied out, and roamed about that cheerless neighborhood that surrounds the depot. Close by there was a small w
Foster Swift (search for this): chapter 106
ere so thick with people, that it seemed as if an army of black ants were marching, after their resistless fashion, through the city, and had scaled the houses. Handkerchiefs fluttered in the air like myriads of white butterflies. An avenue of brave, honest faces smiled upon us as we passed, and sent a sunshine into our hearts that lives there still. In a prominent position stood Major Anderson, who saluted us, and was welcomed as such a man should be welcomed. And so on to the ferry. Swift through New Jersey--against which no sneer be uttered evermore. All along the track shouting crowds, hoarse and valorous, sent to us, as we passed, their hopes and wishes. When we stopped at the different stations, rough hands came in through the windows, apparently unconnected with any one in particular until you shook them, and then the subtle magnetic thrill told that there were bold hearts beating at the end. This continued until night closed, and, indeed, until after midnight. With
23rd (search for this): chapter 106
were prepared for pillage. They thought we were going to sack the place. They found, instead, that we were prepared and willing to pay liberal prices for every thing, and that even patriotic presentations were steadily refused. While we were in the Navy School, of course all sorts of rumors as to our operations were floating about. It surprised me that no one suggested that we were to go off in a balloon; however, all surmises were put to an end by our receiving orders, the evening of the 23d, to assemble in marching order next morning. The dawn saw us up. Knapsacks, with our blankets and overcoats strapped on them, were piled on the green. A brief and insufficient breakfast was taken, our canteens filled with vinegar and water, cartridges distributed to each man, and after mustering and loading, we started on our first march through a hostile country. Gen. Scott has stated, as I have been informed, that the march that we performed from Annapolis to the Junction is one of the
April 27th, 1861 AD (search for this): chapter 106
Doc. 101.--the Seventh Regiment.---how it got from New York to Washington. the Capitol, Washington, Saturday, April 27, 1861. We are here. Those three words sum up as much as Napier's Peccavi, when he took Scinde, and we all feel somewhat as Mr. Caesar Augustus must have felt when he had crossed the Rubicon. It is almost unnecessary for me to detail to you the events of the day on which we left New York. The indefatigable efforts of that ubiquitous and persevering individual, the reporter, has left me little to do. Nevertheless, the scene at the armory on Friday was one to be commemorated. For the first time since its formation, the Seventh Regiment left its native city on active service. All day long, from an early hour in the morning, young men in uniforms or civilian's dress, might have been seen hurrying up and down Broadway, with anomalous-looking bundles under their arms. Dandies, who were the pride of club windows, were not above brown paper parcels; military
April 21st (search for this): chapter 106
ef and a vision of coffee. But it was all merrily done. The scant fare was seasoned with hilarity; and here I say to those people in New York who have sneered at the Seventh Regiment as being dandies, and guilty of the unpardonable crimes of cleanliness and kid gloves, that they would cease to scoff and remain to bless, had they beheld the square, honest, genial way in which these military Brummells roughed it. Farther on you will see what they did in the way of endurance and activity. April 21 was Sunday. A glorious, cloudless day. We had steamed all night, and about 10 o'clock were in the vicinity of Chesapeake Bay. At 11 o'clock, A. M., we had service read by our chaplain, and at 1 P. M., we were seven miles from the coast. The day was calm and delicious. In spite of our troubles with regard to food — troubles, be it understood, entirely unavoidable — we drank in with delight the serenity of the scene. A hazy tent of blue hung over our heads. On one side the dim thread of
April 20th (search for this): chapter 106
battle in the face with a smile, and were ready to hob-nob with an enemy and kill him afterwards. The one was courage in the rough; the other was courage burnished. The steel was the same in both, but the last was a little more polished. On April 20, at 4.20, P. M., we left the Phil. adelphia dock, on board the steamer Boston. The regiment was in entire ignorance of its destination. Some said we were going back to New York, at which suggestion there was a howl of indignation. Others prenundrums he made, my exhausted and horrified memory refuses to recall; suffice it to say, that laughter and good-humor followed in his wake, as the white foam smiles astern of some sharp little cutter going before the wind. The first evening, April 20, on board the Boston, passed delightfully. We were all in first-rate spirits, and the calm, sweet evenings that stole on us as we approached the South, diffused a soft and gentle influence over us. The scene on board the ship was exceedingly pi
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