Monday, March 14, 2016

Chapter 12 - Off At Last


CHAPTER XII
OFF AT LAST
At length the officers were informed that the train was ready, and we took our line of march for the Depot, and took possession of the two cars provided for us.  As may be well imagined the boys made considerable noise, feeling very jubilant under the circumstances.  It so happened that a young officer on his way to return to his command, got into the cars with the company, and not relishing the noise and withal anxious to show his authority, intimated to our officers that he would like to have charge of such a company, that he would soon get them under his control, and that the way they were acting was a disgrace to the service.   Captain Davis expressed his entire willingness to transfer the company over to him until we arrived at Baltimore, or as far as he should go with us.  Captain Davis saying that he was only a YOUNG officer did not know much about discipline, and giving the company over to the Major, and after winking innocently (?) at several of the boys he passed out and took a seat in the front car.
 As soon as the Captain left the car, the most of the boys ignorant of the change in Commanders, commenced in good earnest and the confusion was much greater than before.  The Major sprang to his feet and walking to the center of the car, and in louder tones shouted “silence!”  The suddenness of the command brought the boys I who were singing the “Union Volunteer,” in their best style, to a sudden halt.  For a tine the gallant Major’s face was wreathed in smiles at his apparent victory, and like the Irishman it was well for him that he had his laugh first.
As soon as the boys took in the situation there was a perfect shower of questions hurled at him, the most conspicuous of which was “who in the hell are you?”— before he could reply Ed. Fisher had struck him square in the face with a loaf of bread, which be threw at him from his seat, this was the signal for the commencement of hostilities, and the bread, crackers, bologna, cheese, blind robins, &c., &c., flew as thick as hail, whilst the gallant Major was shielding his face from the storm of things which were being pitched at him, someone snatched his cap from his head, whilst Sergeant Townsend caught him by the seat of his trousers and the nape of his neck, Abel Seesholtz pull­ed the bell rope, and as the train slowed up, the Major was unceremoniously hustled out on the platform and pitched out on a bank, the conductor in the mean time had signaled the engineer to proceed and thus the gallant Major was left behind to make his way to the next station as best he could.
Captain Davis soon after came into the car and when told of his successor’s fate, a broad smile illuminated his face, and he went out with the remark:
“Well I declare boys, it is really too bad with you.”
We knew it was, but then it could not be helped.  The train run with its accustomed speed, and when the sky began to be streaked with gray, many of us caught our first glimpse of “My Maryland.” How eagerly we looked for the first indication of anything that looked like real soldering, and when the first soldier was discovered doing guard duty along the railroad near Baltimore, and shortly afterwards a small fort on the right side of the road, the boys rushed for the windows with the same eagerness that they had for Stuck’s pennies at the White Hall.

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