Three Years in the Sixth Corps | Page 4

in the cars. At each station, as
we passed, crowds of people pressed to greet us, and loud and long
were the cheers that bade us "God speed."
We were now fairly off for the war. We who had followed the various
peaceful avocations of life, in the professions or in the workshops, in
trade or in husbandry, had now turned away from the office, the desk,
the shop and the plough, to join the Grand Army upon which the hopes
of the nation were staked, and which we confidently believed was soon
to sweep the rebellion to destruction.
Emotions hitherto unknown to us filled our hearts. We were soldiers,
wearing for the first time the army blue, and perhaps soon to be called
out to meet in deadly strife an enemy whose prestige for valor was
already too well established.
Were we to return to the friends from whom we had just parted, bearing
the chaplet of victory, or were we to find a last resting place on some
field of the south, never again to meet with wife or sister, father or
mother? Four years have passed and those doubts have been solved.
Many of those brave men have gone to their long rest.
"Their graves are severed far and wide."
Some sleep beneath the tall pines of Yorktown; and the bright azalia
casts its purple blossoms over the graves of many who lie in the
swamps of the Chickahominy. The Antietam murmurs a requiem to
those who rest on its banks, and green is the turf above the noble ones
who fell gloriously at Fredericksburgh. Some rest amid the wild tangles
of the Wilderness, and upon the arid plain of Coal Harbor. Many of
their graves are upon the banks of the Ny and the Po. The marble

monument at Fort Stevens tells the names of some who gave their lives
in the defense of the Capital, while the simple headboards of pine tell
where repose many in the valley of the Shenandoah, and before
Petersburgh. The remains of some have been brought back to the
peaceful cemetery at home to rest beside the dust of loved ones.
"'Tis little; but it looks in truth As if the quiet bones were blest Among
familiar names to rest, And in the places of their youth."
Must it be said, many of the strongest yielded to the grim monster
starvation in the rebel prison pens, and found relief from their tortures
in lowly graves at Andersonville and Salisbury.
A little band, with bronzed faces and manly hearts, returned home.
Their glorious and unspotted record had preceded them. They needed
no song of victory, and they desired no greater marks of honor than
their simple silver crosses, the badge of their corps.
No incident worthy of note occurred until we reached Albany, where
we left the cars and embarked upon the steamer Knickerbocker, an old
dismantled craft, unfit for any purpose but the transportation of soldiers;
whose decks were covered with mud an inch in depth, and whose doors
having been thrown overboard, a free circulation of the rough
November air was allowed in every part. The men had no rations, and
some of them became clamorous; but order was soon restored, and
rations of bread and ham with coffee were distributed. They could not,
however, all be brought to a perfect state of quietude. Some were
determined not to submit, and passed the night in carousal, while those
soberly inclined tried in vain to sleep. The officers found lodging in the
after cabin, where some in berths and some on the floor, we passed a
restless night.
As we approached New York in the morning, the sky was hung with
heavy clouds, and as we left our rickety old craft for terra firma, the
rain poured in fresh torrents upon us. We marched through 14th street
and Broadway to the Park. We were to remain in New York until six
o'clock in the evening, and the Sons of Saratoga were to present us with
a stand of colors and guidons. They commenced by presenting us with

an excellent dinner, at which speeches were made by the committee,
and responded to by Colonel McKean and others on our part.
Dinner over, the regiment was drawn up in front of the City Hall, where
the ceremony of presenting the flags took place. The banner was an
exquisite piece of work, of the richest fabric; a blue ground with
elegant designs in oil. On one side was represented an engagement in
which the American soldiers, led by Washington, were fighting under
the old flag--thirteen stripes and the union jack. On the reverse was
pictured the surrender of Burgoyne, at Saratoga, under the new
flag--the stars and stripes--first unfurled in the goodly city of Albany,