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Annapolis (Maryland, United States) (search for this): chapter 106
e buildings belonging to the Naval School at Annapolis. I had a bunking-place in what is there cal universal snore through the Naval School of Annapolis. The two days that we remained at AnnapolAnnapolis were welcome. We had been without a fair night's sleep since we left New York, and even the harest marches on record. The Secessionists of Annapolis and the surrounding district had threatened vilian told me that he met in the streets of Annapolis two cavalry soldiers who came to cut our thrormed, that the march that we performed from Annapolis to the Junction is one of the most remarkabl. M., and for the first time saw the town of Annapolis, which, without any disrespect to that placeened. The tracks had been torn up between Annapolis and the Junction, and here it was that the w march, as well as our unexpected descent on Annapolis, was the result of Col. Lefferts' judgment, mpracticable, he came to the conclusion that Annapolis, commanding, as it did, the route to the Cap[4 more...]
R. B. Clarke (search for this): chapter 106
his young lips, 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
Napier (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
Robert Anderson (search for this): chapter 106
roadway were never before rent with such cheers as greeted us when we passed. The faces of the buildings were 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 bol
A. Duryea (search for this): chapter 106
inct which characterizes the hungry soldier, proceeded to forage. The worst of it was there was no foraging to be done. The only house within reach was inhabited by a lethargic person, who, like most Southern men, had no idea of gaining money by labor. We offered him extravagant prices to get us fresh water, and it was with the utmost reluctance we could get him to obtain us a few pailfuls. Over the mantel — piece of his miserable shanty I saw — a curious coincidence — the portrait of Col. Duryea, of our regiment. After a brief rest of about an hour, we again commenced our march; a march which lasted until the next morning — a march than which in history, nothing but those marches in which defeated troops have fled from the enemy, can equal. Our Colonel, it seems, determined to march by railroad, in preference to the common road, inasmuch as he had obtained such secret information as led him to suppose that we were waited for on the latter route. Events justified his judgmen
German (search for this): chapter 106
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. Within the cars the sight was strange. A thousand young men, the flower of the North, in whose welfare a million of friends and relatives were interested, were rushing along to conjectured hostilities with the same smiling faces that they would wear 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 Excelsi
Attila (search for this): chapter 106
arch of twenty miles. The country that we passed through seemed to have been entirely deserted. The inhabitants, who were* going to kill us when they thought we daren't come through, now vamosed their respective ranches, and we saw them not. Houses were empty. The population retired into the interior, burying their money, and carrying their families along with them. They, it seems, were under the impression that we came to ravage and pillage, and they fled as the Gauls must have fled when Attila and his Huns came down on them from the North. As we did at Annapolis, we did in Maryland State. We left an impression that cannot be forgotten. Every thing was paid for. No discourtesy was offered to any inhabitant, and the sobriety 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 t
Doc (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
Winfield Scott (search for this): chapter 106
t 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 most remarkable on record. I know that I felt it the most fatiguing, and some of our officers have told me that it was the most perilous. We marched the first eight miles under a burning sun, in heavy marching order, in less than three hours; and it is well known that, placing all elementary considerations out of the way, marching on a railroad track is the most harassing.
Bunting (search for this): chapter 106
eir 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 with grape and canister. The engineer corps, of course, had to do the forwarding work. New York dandies, sir-but they built bridges, laid rails, and headed the regiment through that terrible march. Af
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