The crossing of the Susquehanna River from Perryville, Delaware, to Havre-de-Grace was a source of great interest to these tyros of travel, and whole trains of cars, run aboard great ferryboats at once, for a trip over the river to the Maryland town opposite, excited not a little wonder, if not admiration. On reaching the further side of the river, the usual waiting was experienced and, though it was in the dead of night, those young soldiers were too full of life to allow the time to waste and in their search for mischief they discovered that the place abounded in geese and, long after midnight, these representatives of staid and sober New England awoke not alone the squawking fowls but the people as well and, over and through the gullied ways of this first bit of "Maryland, My Maryland" that they had encountered, these men, on fierce battle bent, pursued these poor feathered bipeds, though what they were to accomplish by a complete round-up, they had not the least notion. However, from any such test they were happily saved by the appearance on the scene of Colonel Davis who, apprised by the noise of the need of his presence, admonished his valiant followers to cease harrying the birds; nor were the mischievous fellows sorry, for they had gone about as far as they could and not have their fun changed into serious fault.
The regiment had reached the region where constant watch was kept over stations, railroad bridges and all points where it might be easy to obstruct transportation; hence the sight of dimly seen figures performing sentinel duty as the train swept along was not a little interesting to the men who were, as rapidly as possible, advancing from the abode of peace and plenty to that of privation and danger. Dawn of the 8th brought with it the entrance of Baltimore by the latest Massachusetts organization and, as the men marched through the silent streets in the early morning, many of them contrasted the reception accorded them in the unquestionably loyal city of Philadelphia, and that in the Monument City, which a year and five months before had caused the first bloodshed in the Civil War. A substantial breakfast was served at the Union refreshment rooms, though nothing like the generous spread made the day before by the ladies of the city on the Schuylkill. Several regiments, like the Thirty-ninth on their way South, were found waiting orders and transportation and the situation was somewhat emphasized by the sudden and serious illness of a number of soldiers, the rumor gaining circulation that they had been poisoned. Fortunately before the irate soldiers could begin retaliatory measures against the people, it was decided that the ailment was simply cholera morbus, occasioned by injudicious eating of green fruit obtained in transit.
Ellicott's Mills, not so very far from Baltimore, towards the west, was at first announced as the destination of the regiment, but, as there was no supply of tents or wagons, the order was countermanded and cars were taken for Washington. The sight of the incomplete Capitol and other public buildings was a glad one to these Massachusetts men who, in spite of warlike intentions, were alive to all of the geographical attractions that they might encounter. Reaching the Nation's centre of activity somewhat late Sept. 9, '62 in the afternoon there was some time in which to take cursory glances of many edifices, already familiar through picture and print. Supper and lodgings were found in the barracks, close by the Baltimore and Ohio depot, and those who did not like the fare at the barracks, and could afford the price, had the privilege of supping outside. Weariness can sleep upon a flinty bed while lazy sloth may toss upon the softest of couches, hence the floor of the so-called "Soldiers' Rest" afforded comfort for the cattle car travellers. In the morning of the 9th, it was discovered that the Tenth Vermont had arrived during the night and was encamped outside, a regiment with which the Thirty-ninth was eventually to be brigaded for a time.
POTOMAC CROSSED.
The breakfast was not of a sort to elicit any great amount of praise from the soldiers and once more those who could got their food outside, and the forenoon was passed largely in seeing the sights of the Capital. Very likely the folks at home were thinking that their boys were so much needed that they were to be ordered into battle-line at once; but all concerned were to learn that in the fiercest of wars there are many waits, and this delay in Washington was incident to finding out just where the Thirty-ninth was to report, for all knew very well they were not to halt there long. The orders came from Gen. Silas Casey in time for them to move out of the city about noon and so to take their way across the Long Bridge, the thoroughfare connection between Washington and Alexandria, then the most famous structure of its kind in America; on account of the vibrations the regular route-step was broken. The day was hot and sultry, the dust intense, made so by the constant passing of horses and men, and the newly enlisted soldiers, loaded down with their bloated knapsacks and other burdens, began to think that soldiering was no joking matter.
While thus advancing into Virginia the Thirteenth Massachusetts Infantry was encountered, the men having all of the activity and swing that come from long experience, though thinned ranks spoke volumes for the encounters they had passed through, but they were in no halting mood and with only the greetings possible in passing the Bay State men kept in motion. It was the time when the disastrous Second Bull Run had necessitated realignment, and measures were afoot which in a little more than a week were to lead up to Antietam. It was a march of seven miles which brought the dust begrimed men to the vicinity of Fort Albany, an extensive fortification situated on the estate of Gen. Robert E. Lee, the famous Virginian so prominent in the Confederate Army, a locality rapidly growing in reputation as Arlington. Though camp equipage had not as yet made its appearance, the weather was so dry and warm no trouble was found in camping without other outfit. In every direction the eye could see very little save tents and campfires, with the passing of long baggage trains, and the night air bore the strains of many bands of music, all joining in a mighty effort to keep the minds of the soldiers alert and free from the care which besets solitude and repose.
On the slopes of Arlington the morning of the 10th found the regiment, its members all alert to observe and learn the lessons of each successive day. The night had brought about great changes, for a large portion of the camps so apparent during the watches of the night had entirely disappeared; to be sure there had been some extra fires during the preceding hours when, as it appeared later, camp debris had been burned, but all of these indications were lost on the newcomers, to whom the symptoms of breaking camp were unfamiliar, and how should they know that already the fates were preparing for Antietam, the bloodiest single day's fight of the entire war? That the enemy was not very remote was currently reported and many of the young soldiers thought they might be Sept. 12, '62 ordered into the fray at an early hour. Then too, for the first time, they saw the coming into the Union line of escaped negroes, the "contrabands" of General Butler's ruling; "strange looking beings," one of the observers remarks. The 11th day differed in no essential from its predecessor save that the arrival of tents permitted the pitching of them and the instituting of regular and strict camp orders. The proximity of great earthworks, known as forts, prompted many to visit them and thus to appreciate the efforts that had been made to render safe the nation's capital. Drills were begun, roll-calls were frequent and the first dress parade in Dixie was recorded for the Thirty-ninth on this day.
After a day of routine on the 12th, while companies were forming for battalion drill, orders came to pack up and be ready to move out. It was after dark and in the midst of a driving rain that the start was made, but through the mud and darkness the regiment proceeded with as much willingness as the circumstances would permit till, at last, after what seemed a very long time and a great distance, really the latter was only two miles, the welcome command, "halt," was heard, and as it was not followed by one to move forward the men were content, the rain having stopped, to throw themselves upon the ground and there to find the rest that ever comes to the weary whatever the conditions. The regiment was now near the outermost lines and pickets were thrown out. The next morning, 13th, revealed the location as near Fort Tillinghast, and work was immediately begun on clearing the ground for a camp, this being the third effort for this purpose made by the men and some of them hoped they might be allowed to remain long enough to see just how a real camp at the front would look. It appeared that to the Thirty-ninth had been assigned the duty of picketing the line between Forts Tillinghast and Craig. Here Sibley tents were received, the same having been left by the Sixteenth Maine on the departure of the latter for the march into Maryland. This was the introduction of the Thirty-ninth to an organization whose later history was considerably involved with that of our Massachusetts men.