soldier calls “a good square meal.” We expected Washington would not be behind Philadelphia in this respect, and after stacking our arms and waiting patiently for about two hours our ears were startled by that sound so welcome to every soldier, “Fall in for rations.” They marched us into a building having a sign over the door reading “Soldiers’ Retreat.” Visions of cold ham and soft bread appeared unto us, and that beverage, which always cheers but does not inebriate, we thought we smelt afar off; but alas, for a soldier’s hopes. What a sight greeted our eyes as we filed into that building. Three long rows of tables, running the length of the building, were piled up with chunks of half boiled pork which looked as if they had been cut from the hog when just killed, for the bristles were long enough to lift up each piece by. A quantity of stale and musty bread and some very muddy coffee, completed our bill of fare. We had not anticipated such a re-treat as this; however, we felt that it was nothing like getting used to these things, and we did retreat and got our breakfast at the eating houses. We had a few hours to see the

sights of the city, and improved them by a visit to the Capitol and House of Representatives, also the Senate chamber, where some of the boys sat down in the chair which Jeff. Davis had vacated, just to see how it would seem. Others made impromptu speeches on the great questions which were agitating our country.

The camp which was assigned to us was out to Meridian Hill, about four miles from the capitol, and thither we marched and pitched our tents, and were quite willing to enjoy a comfortable snooze when the drums beat the tatoo.

The Sixth was brigaded with the Fourth and Seventh New Hampshire and the Seventh Connecticut, which arrived the next day, all under command of Brig. Gen. H. G. Wright.

A member of Co. “B” was taken ill when but a few days in camp, and was removed to Columbia Hospital, where he died of congestion of the brain on the 26th of September. This was the first death since our organization. Death claimed another victim in a member of Co. “F,” Theodore Gibbons by name. He died on the 7th of October.

The twenty days of our camp life in Washington was one unceasing drill: morning drills by the sergeants, before breakfast; company drill after that meal was over; then the brigade drill after dinner, taken with our other duties, made our time pretty

much all occupied. We began to see in these extra duties the inner life of a soldier, and our proficiency in drill was manifest from day to day, yet as we heard of the clash of war and read the accounts of skirmishes, we longed to be at the front where we might participate in those stirring scenes. Several times during our camp life here, we were called into line and extra rounds of cartridges given us, with the orders to hold ourselves in readiness to move at a moment’s notice, but as often dismissed to await the next call.

On the 8th day of October we left Washington by rail for Annapolis, Maryland, and arrived there after a wearisome ride of twelve hours. We were quartered in the Navy Yard for a few days, which gave us an opportunity of seeing a few of the relics of the war of 1812. Many ancient looking swords, old flintlock muskets and wooden canteens were among the collection. A few days passed and we went outside the town and pitched our tents near a grove of fine old trees, where we might have better facilities for drilling, &c. We were inspected several times by prominent officers of the regular army, which gave evidence of some movement or other on foot, and a short time elapsed ere it was noised abroad that we were going on an expedition.

The 19th of October found us all packed up and tramping up the gang-planks of the steamers to sail

on the great expedition, with sealed orders, under Gen. Sherman. The right wing of our regiment was assigned to the steamship Marion, the left wing to the steamer Parkersburg. There were seventeen regiments in all, and thirty-three steam transports to hold us, besides quite a fleet of gunboats, made up the entire fleet. Such formidable looking boats presented to our vision, gave evidence of something else beside a mere excursion. We knew that hard work and fighting were before us and that only a few days would elapse ere we should see the rebel soil.

Weighing anchor, we passed down the bay to Hampton Roads, Va., where we remained several days, waiting like Micawber, for something to turn up. Finally, the union jack gave the signal for sailing, and glad enough were we at the prospect of soon being able to step on terra firma once more. Two days out from Hampton Roads we experienced a terrible storm at sea, and for several hours the prospects of seeing anything but a broken wreck and finding a watery grave, were exceedingly dubious. Wave after wave poured over us. The hatches were fastened and everything on deck was lashed tight to prevent being washed away. The red glare of the lightning, with the terrific peals of thunder, made the scene awfully grand. Now in the trough of the sea and another moment upon the crest of the waves, with all on board terribly sea-sick, was a picture not

very pleasant to dwell upon. Our fleet became scattered and two vessels were sunk; others had horses washed overboard; while another was forced to throw into the deep her entire armament, which consisted of some improved guns which we expected would do some very effective service. A merciful Providence permitted us to outride the storm and once more see the scattered fleet all together again, save those that went to the bottom. Many a prayer of thankfulness went up to God for our safe deliverance from such a storm.

A day or two of pleasant sailing brought us at anchor in the harbor of Port Royal, South Carolina, with two very formidable looking rebel batteries on either side of the harbor. Here we saw that our mission was to reduce these works and gain a foothold on South Carolina soil. The rebel soldiers gazed at us from their strongholds, and two very scaly looking gunboats ventured down from their hiding place a short distance above the batteries, and sent us their compliments in the shape of a few shells for about the space of half an hour, but with no damage to our fleet; but as soon as one of Uncle Sam’s boats gave them a few messengers of war, they were glad enough to change front to the rear and troubled us no more that day.

CHAPTER III.

The 7th of November, 1861, will ever remain in the history of the war as one in which a grand victory perched upon the banner of the Union; when treason and rebellion received a blow from which they never fully recovered. The members of the old Sixth will not soon forget the events that transpired. Our gunboats were occupied several hours in getting into position to do the most effective service, and after forming into a circle, with the grand old frigate Wabash taking the lead, they sailed around once and then opened fire upon those strongholds of rebellion. The enemy were evidently expecting something of the kind, for they returned the fire with great promptness. Fort Walker, on Hilton Head, seemed determined to drive the Union fleet away from the harbor, while Fort Beauregard, on Bay Point, which was opposite, played comparatively a small part, for all her shell fell short of the mark. As the boats moved nearer and nearer the engagement became more general, and shot and shell flew like hail through the air; those of the enemy doing little execution, while our

shells seemed to stir up the sand around and in their batteries at almost every fire. The troops on the transports watched the engagement with intense interest, while broadside after broadside were poured into those doomed works of treason. Orders were signalled to