April 22, 1861
The News.
There was no direct communication yesterday with the federal capital or Baltimore. There is no doubt of the perfect safety of Washington, and it is not probable that anything of a serious nature transpired in Baltimore yesterday. The communication is understood to be suspended by the desire of the government, in order to prevent its plans of war from falling into the hands of its opponents. It was rumored in Washington on Saturday that the President, in consequence of certain States refusing to furnish their quota of the force called for, would call for additional troops from the States which have proved faithful to the constitution and laws of the country.
We publish today details of the sanguinary fight that took place in Baltimore last Friday between its citizens and the Massachusetts and Pennsylvania troops that were marching to the relief of Washington city; also a report of the mass meeting subsequently held at Monument square, with the speeches of the Mayor and Governor, an account of the burning of the railroad bridges, &c. The burning of the bridges and the cutting of the telegraph wires were done by order of Governor Hicks, and under the protection of a strong military force.
The Seventy-first, Twelfth and Sixth regiments of New York State militia, with full ranks and fully officered, left New York yesterday for Annapolis, in the steamers R. R. Cuyler and Baltic. The regiments were obliged to leave numbers of recruits behind. They numbered; together, more than two thousand five hundred men. Their departure was the occasion of a grand ovation.
The meeting of the citizens of New York in Union Square on Saturday last, was one of the greatest demonstrations of popular feeling the world has ever seen. It was characterized by great unanimity of feeling, and, amidst a crowd of half a million of human beings, but one thought, one idea, seemed to pervade the huge mass, and that was a determination to sustain the government by every means, at all cost and hazard. The resolutions passed, and the speeches pronounced, all breathed the same spirit: and the city of New York, rising as if it were one man on the occasion, determined that the federal government should be sustained and maintained, no matter what the amount of men, material or money should be necessary.
We learn from Annapolis that the Eighth regiment of Massachusetts have arrived there safely, and are holding open the road from that place to Washington.
By telegraph we learn that the Seventh regiment of New York had reached Annapolis, and we have reason to believe that they are now in Washington city.
From United States soldiers who were on guard at Harper Ferry on the night of the destruction of the armory, and have since escaped, we learn that the destruction of the buildings and arms at that place was full and complete. Harper’s Ferry was filled with Virginians, who, it was believed, design invading Maryland, and making Mason and Dixon’s line the line of warfare.
We continue today our reports of the volunteer movement, which is progressing with extraordinary activity. The reports which we give elsewhere furnish interesting details.
Governor Morgan arrived in this city yesterday, and put up at the Astor House. The object of the visit is to make arrangements concerning the departure of the New York militia for the seat of war.
The steamship State of Maine returned to this port yesterday morning from Hampton Roads, whither she had gone for the purpose of reinforcing Fortress Monroe.
Ex-President Pierce made an eloquent address to the people at Concord, N. H., on Saturday evening last. He hoped that Providence would avert the disasters that at present distract the country, but if a collision between the two sections must occur, he declared it the duty of all good citizens to sustain the government and defend the flag of their country.
At the Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, yesterday, a sermon was delivered by the Rev. Mr. Northop, on the present exigencies of the country. Mr. Beecher, the pastor, was absent from the city. After the sermon a collection was taken up, to uniform and equip the volunteers who are prepared to serve their country in the field in the present momentous crisis. The offerings in the morning and evening for that purpose, it is said, will amount to about five thousand dollars.
The Rev. Dr. Bellows, at All Soul’s Unitarian church, yesterday preached, and in the course of his sermon feelingly alluded to the present national crisis. He characterized the uprising at the South as a war against the ballot box, and the present war as a holy war, waged in the cause of civilization. A report of the reverend gentleman’s remarks will be found in our paper today.
At the Twenty-first street Dutch Reformed church yesterday Dr. Bethune delivered a patriotic and stirring sermon on the present emergencies of the country to a large and fashionable congregation. At the conclusion of his sermon the Doctor read an appeal for the protection of the families of the soldiers who have volunteered in the service of their country. The reverend gentleman headed the list with a subscription of fifty dollars, and the matter was placed in the hands of a committee of influential ladies of the congregation.
The Banner in the Breeze.
Our cities, towns and villages are gay with the streaming colors of the Star Spangled Banner. We see it floating over the top of Bunker Hill monument, Trinity church, the Catholic cathedrals, our public buildings, from the tops of the highest hills and the tallest spires—in places, indeed, where it never waved before. It is now nearer heaven than any flag ever waved before. We see it, in endless duplicate and of varying size, lining our streets, decorating our store windows, and being carried to and fro on stages, carriages and other vehicles. We see it in the hands of men, women and children, indoors and out of doors. We see ladies at the hotels come trooping into the dining hall with flags in their hands and with the red, white and blue worn on their bosoms. We see this emblem of our constitution and our liberties everywhere. We have it even on our envelopes, and neckties, and bits of white silk to be pinned to our coat collars. We might pursue our enumeration, but enough is said and enough is known to show that the Star Spangled Banner expresses a sentiment which is universal among us, from Maine to Chesapeake Bay. That sentiment is THE UNION. There is no plainer evidence of this grand unity of feeling than in this throwing to the breeze of the flag of our country. We all rejoice in it. It is a popular movement the like of which was never seen before, and such general unanimity must command respect abroad and strike fear to our enemies at home. It shows that we are still a great people, with the courage and determination to support that greatness, and to unite manfully in its achievement, be we democrats or republicans. Our flag is menaced, and we must defend it to the last, come what may; and let us rest assured that in the end to the defenders of that flag will be the victory.
The War.—The Bivouac At The Capitol.—Our Washington Correspondence.
HEADQUARTERS OF CLAY’S BATTALION.
WASHINGTON, April 20—1 o’clock A.M.
In the second patrol of Col. Cassius M. Clay’s command I visited tonight, carbine in hand, the Capitol of the United States of America. As we approached that magnificent edifice the prompt call of the sentry brought us to a halt; but soon the conference of the officer in command of the patrol with the officer of the guard, procured us admittance. As we arrived, two ladies, escorted by a gentleman, who were understood to be volunteer nurses for the members of the Massachusetts regiment wounded at Baltimore, applied for admittance, though it was then past midnight. During the parley between our officer and the officer of the guard, we had leisure to admire the ample arrangements in the way of barricades, which were mainly composed of barrels of cement placed endwise, and piled up ten feet high between the immense marble piers and columns that form the various entrances of the building. Entering, we passed along its tessellated floors, sentries meeting us at every turn and directing us through all the devious approaches that led us to our special object of search, the quarters of the Massachusetts regiment. We found these tired and sleeping men in the Senate Chamber, where were delivered the last national speeches of Mr. Jefferson Davis. The men, exhausted by four sleepless nights of travel, had thrown themselves down to sleep the moment they reached the building; but a few of their officers and a surgeon of one of the Washington regiments, detailed to attend upon the wounded, gave us an account of the melee at Baltimore, substantially the same which your enterprising reporter had managed to forward for your columns, having, by virtue of his earnest representations, gained consent for its transmission from the army officer in charge of the Washington telegraph office, which had at an early hour been taken possession of for the exclusive use of the government.
Besides the Massachusetts regiment who were relieved from guard duty, the Pennsylvania troops were posted in the Capitol, and also one company of United States artillery. Alertness and discipline seemed to prevail at every point.
We found these soldiers in the most magnificent quarters in the world. They ascended staircases lined with heavy wainscots of the marble of Tennessee. They traversed corridors where the eloquence of the noblest orators of the republic, dead and living, had daily resounded. Ceilings, rich with all the magnificence of the decorator’s art, were above their heads, and from the walls looked down upon them the counterfeit presentments of the heroes of an earlier age of the republic, who little dreamed that their countrymen should behold a scene like this.
With the reflections which such a spectacle inspired, our patrol (made up of gentlemen of education and culture who could appreciate its historic aspect), returned to our quarters in the Peace Congress Hall, at Willard’s Hotel. There we found some hundreds of our comrades under arms, enjoying, as we arrived, their rations of coffee and biscuit. Soon a reporter of the HERALD—a corps which seem to be ubiquitous—came in and relieved the monotony of our watch by detailing the latest news of warlike import. We maintain our guard till morning, but all fear of a sudden dash of marauding thieves upon the capital tonight is dismissed from our minds. It is protected in every direction, and scouts hourly arrive with reports of every symptom which can be tortured into a hostile demonstration. There are ample troops now here to protect the city against any possible attack which can be made upon it by any forces the enemy can immediately concentrate. Depend upon it, Washington is for the present safe, and with the troops now rapidly concentrating upon it, it will be held against all the devices of a set of ingrate rascals who, for the devotion they owe the republic, substitute thievery, treachery, bad faith and rascality on a scale as large as their pretensions and as mean as their performance.
For Our Country and For Glory.
War knows no Sabbaths, as well as no laws. Yesterday New York saw such a sight as it has never seen before upon a Sabbath. The streets, usually quiet and half deserted upon the Holy Day, crowded with people; gay with flags and uniforms; resonant with sheers and martial music; full of bustle, life and animation. The sound of the church bells, calling the multitude to worship the Prince of Peace was drowned by the roll of drums, calling soldiers to march to the wars. Men, women and children, who ordinarily attend places of worship, thronged the streets, to bid goodbye and God speed to their relatives and friends who were marching to defend their country. Prayers to the God of Love were changed to appeals to the God of Battles. The city bristled with arms, and seemed more like a military camp just before a field day than a metropolis resting from its labors upon the day or rest.
The war spirit has seized upon our citizens to an extent unprecedented and unexpected. Day after day we send out to the wars the very flower of our youth, and yet day after day others are departing and repairing to depart. Stores give up their salesmen, banks their officers, merchants their clerks, newspapers their editors and reporters, and still the spirit spreads, the enlistments continue, the drain increases. Already there is a perceptible alteration in the aspect of those places where young men do most congregate. One misses familiar faces at every turn. Inquiries of or about friends are answered by as gone with the Seventh,’ or ‘I start with the Eighth tomorrow.’ No one can resist the infection. Those who are ordinarily coolest and calmest are now the most heroic and excited.
Through streets all ablaze with flags, lined with enthusiastic citizens and thunderous with cheers and vivas, the Seventy first, Twelfth and Sixth regiments of the New York State militia marched to the transports which are to convey them to Washington as expeditiously as possible. Vessels loaded with United States troops started at the same time with apparently the same destination. Every militia regiment turned out with over flowing ranks, and hundreds of recruits were obliged to be refused. New York never did itself greater credit, and never sent out better men. The homes which miss the husband, the brother, the father today are many, but there are few regrets for the absent, though mothers morn, and sisters weep, and children wonder and are alarmed. The cause is too holy for regret. No crusade which ever swept through Europe with emblazoned haste ever went to fight for a nobler cause. The cross of Peter the Hermit fades before our Star Spangled Banner for the Union, or strength and our shield; for the constitution, the great charter of our freedom; for the laws, our support and our safeguard; for these our chivalry go forth to battle and they could go for no holier purpose. They started upon the holy day most appropriately, and it is no profanation to say that the providence who blessed the day will bless those who go to obstruct with their lives the further progress of anarchy and wrong.
Those who read the detailed accounts which we give below of the scenes and incidents connected with the departure of the regiments will find that the heroism, the chivalry, the self devotion which we have been taunted with lacking, still exist among our people. There are no nobler examples of those virtues than some which are here described. The contemptuous laugh of the Southern conspirators at the proclamation which brought these soldiers into the field was most ill timed and injudicious. It will die away before such displays as this, and as New York looks upon her sons already upon the way to Washington, and upon those preparing to follow, she may well respond to such derision.
Let those laugh who win.
THE DEPARTURE OF THE SEVENTY FIRST.
Immediately that it was announced that the Seventy first regiment had volunteered, that its tender had been accepted by the government, and that it would start for Washington yesterday, the rush of recruits became tremendous, and more names were put upon the list than could by any possibility be enrolled in the companies. A week ago and scarcely a corporal’s guard of the regiment were ready to volunteer. On Saturday night last the rolls were closed at ten o’clock, with over eleven hundred names registered, and over two hundred applicants were refused. The new recruits drilled day and night, and the armory over Centre Market was beset with crowds of people. Several recruits were turned away on account of their advanced age, and our reporter saw old white haired men offering to enlist in any capacity—even as cooks—if they could only be permitted to go. There was the greatest animation and enthusiasm at the armory during the preparatory drills. Whole families of men enlisted: father shouldered arms alongside of their sons; brother joined the ranks together; friends brought each other in; young men rushed off home to tell their parents they had enlisted, and returned shouting and singling with glee. Very few men slept, and many did not go to bed at all, so excited were they and soon busy in preparing for the start the next morning.
ON SUNDAY MORNING the men began to assemble at the armory at half past six o’clock. New York sleeps late on Sundays, but yesterday crowds surrounded the armory as soon as the soldiers began to march up, and continued to increase until the start at half past nine o’clock. Ingress or egress was almost impossible, and the drill room was so jammed that anything like movement was not to be thought of for a moment. The spectators had to be turned out by hundreds, so that the companies might form. As might have been anticipated, there were comparatively few ladies present, and most of the adieux were spoke at home. Still there were many friends who came to say the good byes over and over again; to shake hands for the last time several times, only to repeat the last farewells in the armory in the street, on the march at the dock and on board the vessel. From the hurry and bustle and from the motley character of the crowd there occurred
MANY SCENES AND INCIDENTS affecting and ludicrous. Here you might see a father bidding farewell to his little boy. There an awkward recruit trying to learn to handle his musket and keep his chest out at the same time, and not succeeding in the attempt. Here a husband and wife were kissing good by with sad faces. There a man was quite a mournfully contemplating a trunk which he had brought along full of creature comforts, which he couldn’t carry with him and which he was most loath to leave behind. Here were brothers, one of whom was going with the regiment, parting a ribbon between them. There was a substitute, whom about twenty friends were attempting to get into a coat several times too small for him, and who presented the remarkably elegant figure which Same Cowell affects in his ‘Reuben Wright.’ Here a man was telling a mournful tale of the wife whom he had left behind him unprovided for, but who insisted that he should go with his regiment. There was a friend looking earnestly and intently at a recruit, striving to gulph down his emotion and clutching with both hands a box of segars, which he in vain attempted to present. Here was a mother placing in her boy’s hand a bible and exhorting him to read it. There was a soldier turning round and round, as a dog goes after his tail, in an insane effort to reach a strap which hung just in the middle of his back, and avoided his reach by a hairbreadth. Here an old man looked with pride at the four sons he had given to his country. There a young soldier sat repeatedly upon his knapsack, determined to crowd more into it than it could hold. Here you heard of men—one of them a first sergeant—who had arranged to be married this week, but had obtained leave of absence from the Household Brigade. There a party sang at the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ with a great deal of voice and very little melody. Here stood a soldier fully armed and equipped. There a recruit, whose accouterments consisted only of a tin cup and a pocket pistol loaded with brandy, declared that he was ‘a Zouvey.’ You passed rapidly from grave to gay, and from gay to grave again, and hardly had time to feel the moisture in your eyes at some sad spectacle, before a sunshiny laugh dried it up and set your face beaming.
OFF FOR THE RENDEZVOUS.
At about half past nine o’clock the drums sounded, and the companies began to form, to start for the rendezvous at Bond street. The sky, which up to this time had been as dark, sombre and lowering as the thoughts of the departing friends, now suddenly cleared and became as bright as the soldiers’ hopes. The crowd, anticipating the move of the regiment streamed up to Bond street and crowded it, in spite of the police, to its utmost capacity. By this time Broadway was as crowded as the vicinity of the armory, and it was with some difficulty that the various companies were able to reach the rendezvous without breaking their ranks. As each company passed into position upon the street or sidewalk, it was saluted with hearty cheers. The recruits especially were welcomed most enthusiastically. Five members of the Seventh regiment, who had determined to stay at home but found it impossible to remain away from their comrades, formed in uniform up the right of the line. Bond street was handsomely dressed out in flags, and every window was full of people. The companies were surrounded by a mob of people, who pushed about greeting friends among the soldiers, conversing, taking parting drinks and seeing the boys off generally. Ladies walked hastily up and down the lines looking for their relatives to say good bye. Every now and then a carriage would drive up discharging its soldier and taking away its other occupants. It seemed as if the great Union square meeting had unanimously adjourned and all the people had come down to see the Seventy first start.
INTO LINE—MARCH!
The poor soldiers were kept standing in the hot sun, with their heavy knapsacks and accouterments, thus, until twelve o’clock, when the crowd which had all along hampered the military, was at last partially cleared away by the police, under Superintendent Kennedy, and the Adjutant, having been waited for a long time, arrived upon the ground and received the reports of the orderly sergeants. The names of the officers and the number of the men who sailed we give below.
OFFICERS AND MEN.
Colonel A. S. Vosburg; Lieutenant Colonel, Henry P. Martin, vice Osgood, resigned; Major, George A. Buckingham; Adjutant, A. J. Pride; Quartermaster, George W. Roosevelt; Paymaster, W. A. Ellis; Assistant Paymaster, P. R. Wilkins; Surgeon, Dr. McMillan; Assistant Surgeons, Drs. Dodge and Peitnet; Chaplain, Rev. C. Corson; Sergeant Major, H. F. Leidennall; Color Sergeant, —- Searles; Right General Guide, S. E. Egbert; Left General Guide. F. B. Shelley.
Company A—Captain, —; First Lieutenant, — Hart; Second Lieutenant, W. G. Tompkins; First Sergeant; — Oakley; Second Sergeant, — Jones. Uniformed men, 66.
Company B—Captain B. L. Trafford; First Lieutenant, J. R. Klotz; Second Lieutenant, J. R. Livermore; First Sergeant, Fred. Zissell; Second Sergeant, A. H. Ferguson; Third Sergeant, —; Fourth Sergeant, John Hazlin. Uniformed men, 20.
Company C—Captain W. G. Coles; First Lieutenant S. H. Maynard; Second Lieutenant, H. J. Rich; First Sergeant C. H. Ackley; Second Sergeant, John Hall; Third Sergeant, S. W. Cochrane; Fourth Sergeant, E. H. Wells. Uniformed men, 36.
Company D—Captain, D. C. Meschute; First Lieutenant G. H. Stowe; Second Lieutenant D. H. Denyse; First Sergeant, W. E. Willson; Second Sergeant, Wm. Babcock; Third Sergeant, Wm. Brickell; Fourth Sergeant, Alexander Babcock. Uniformed men, 37.
Company E—Captain —; First Lieutenant, E. H. Wade; Second Lieutenant, T. B. Pendergast; First Sergeant, Richard Stirling, Jr.; Second Sergeant, E. Finley; Third Sergeant, W. H. Johnson; Fourth Sergeant, J. S. Turner. Uniformed men, 27.
Company F—Captain, J. L. Ellis; First Lieutenant, I. A. Murphy; Second Lieutenant, B. F. Chamberlain; First Sergeant, J. W. Dominick; Second Sergeant, Frith; Third Sergeant, Warner; Fourth Sergeant, Warner; Fifth Sergeant, Kirtland. Uniformed men, 58.
Company G—Captain, W. S. Dunham; First Lieutenant, G. W. Curtiss, Second Lieutenant, —; First Sergeant, S. Stephenson; Second Sergeant, Woolsey; Third Sergeant, Tallman. Uniformed men, 38.
Company H—The officers were not reported. Uniformed men, 36.
Engineers—First Sergeant, E. A. Quintard (vice Sandford, resigned); Second Sergeant, Cochrane. Uniformed men, 22.
Band—Harvey B. Dodworth, Leader. 30 men.
The recruits were reported as numbering between six and seven hundred men, and the regiment left the city with about one thousand men in the ranks. The figures given above only indicate the number of original members of the companies, or their substitutes. Many of the recruits were in uniform; other had arms, but wore all sorts of dresses, and carried bags, bundles and portmanteaus; others had no arms, no uniforms, no bundles. Boxes of muskets were provided on board ship for the recruits, and many had their uniforms sent there. The men were generally armed with revolvers. The vacancies in the list of officers will be filled by elections on the Cuyler. Most of the men were young, and all were able bodies, fine looking fellows. There are no nationalities among our citizens now; all are Americans, and so the rule which has made this an exclusive regiment was relaxed and outsiders freely admitted. Those in uniform wore dark blue suits, trimmed with black and gold, and blue overcoats. The recruits were dressed as taste and fancy dictated, and presented a most motley appearance. Some were armed with old, rusty muskets and one with only a hatchet. General Spicer and staff were upon the ground, and Major Smith was present to inspect the regiment. Finally, the regiment was handed over to the Colonel, the band struck up the national airs which were heartily cheered and saluted the colors amid renewed cheering. The soldiers then marched as far as the corner of Broadway and Broome street and were there halted and kept standing for nearly an hour, while Col. Vosburgh was selecting those recruits who were to go and those who were to remain, it being impossible to take all. This scene was most painful. Two hundred and fifty men were rejected, and the officers seemed as pained at this necessity as the recruits themselves. Some begged to be taken; others wept; and others, bearing their disappointment more bravely, started off to join some other regiment. The soldiers occupied themselves with singing the ‘Red, White and Blue,’ and the ‘Star Spangled Banner,’ with rousing choruses, and accompaniment of cheers.
MARCH TO THE BOAT
At last the procession started, and, with occasional stoppages, marched to pier No. 4, North river, through Broadway, Cortlandt and West streets. The crowd above Canal street was immense. People choked every window, and piled upon the stoops, balconies and roofs of the houses, which flashed with a bright foliage of flags. At every corner engines were stationed loaded with men and with bells ringing. The ladies waved their handkerchiefs and flags till the whole street seemed in a flutter. It was a New York crowd and a New York ovation. A thousand citizens walked in the ranks before the regiment, and were not missed from the crowd. Below Canal street the throng was not so dense, but was so large that no city but a New York could equal it. The people filled the entire street. The regiment never looked better, as it glanced in and out of the light and shade which the open streets and the tall houses caused to alternate. From St. Paul’s and Trinity churches flags waved, as if to remind the soldiers of the sacredness of the cause they were to defend. The friends of the men shook hands with them as they marched, and handed them books, papers, rosettes, segars and alls sorts of presents. Women wept as the regiment passed; men rushed from the crowd and joined the ranks—among others, the son of Commodore Barney, United States Navy. Before such scenes all words fail, and any description is impossible.
THE EMBARKATION. of the soldiers upon the R.R. Cuyler, which lay with steam up awaiting them was very finely effected. The men crowded the boat from stem to stern, and had hardly room to move. below, the carpenters were busy in putting up the rough berths in which the soldiers were to lay, ten deep. Friends said the last good byes and bombarded the vessel with oranges and apples. The men ate their dinners and smoked their segars as comfortably as circumstances would permit. At length three o’clock arrived; outsiders jumped ashore; the gangways were closed, and the planks thrown down; the ship shot out of the dock; cheers from the shore were returned by the soldiers; the ship appeared a vari-colored mass of uniforms, flags and handkerchiefs; the crowd hurrahed for New York and the defenders of the Union; the soldiers snapped caps in salute; and with one long, final cheer for “Our Boys,” the seventy-first started for the wars.
SERIOUS ACCIDENT TO ONE OF THE MEMBERS OF THE SEVENTY-FIRST REGIMENT.
Mr. Wm. Corry, residing at No. 77 Suffolk street, Jersey City, met with quite a serious accident yesterday just previous to his departure to join the Seventy-first regiment, of which he is a member. It seems that his pistol, which he was about putting into his pocket, went off, completely severing his right hand, the ball passing entirely through it. Surgeon Queiver, of the Second regiment, and Dr. Varick were called in, and dressed the wound, and from accounts, it will no doubt deprive Mr. Corry from joining his regiment.