Sacramento! The scene of our future troubles and joys (much of the former but how very few of the latter). Our troubles began when the order came to sling knapsacks and form in the street. That never to be forgotten 4th of July was a banner day for heat, even in the annals of sultry Sacramento; and as we stepped from our car, tired, hungry, and oh, my! how hot, we were inhumanely confronted by a large sign on the side of a brewery, “Ice Cold Buffalo 5cts.” The eye of many a brave comrade grew watery and his mouth dry as we stood there in the burning rays of the sun with our knapsacks and blankets on our backs facing that sign like a little band of modern Spartans and waiting patiently for the order to march. Soon the “glittering staff,” armed to the teeth, passed “gorgeously” by; the order “forward” echoed along the line, and the “army of occupation” was in motion.
We had arrived and formed at 8:00 and marched at about 8:30. The train stopped at Twenty-first and R streets, and our line of march to the armory was as follows: North along Twenty-first to P, along P to Eleventh, along Eleventh to N, along N to Tenth, along Tenth to L and along L to the armory on the corner of Sixth, in all fully three miles.
Never before did the Old City Guard participate in such a 4th of July “parade.” After a long night of unrest, trudging along block after block through the sweltering heat, without the enlivening sounds of drums or fife, our heavy packs growing heavier at every step, the salt perspiration blinding our eyes, and looking up only to see the heat dancing along the road in front of us, we felt little inclination to joke or notice the open-mouthed wonder of many of the onlookers. Still we could hear the remarks of the bystanders, that they “guessed the strikers felt sick this morning,” or of the apparently less impressed small boy who “reckoned de strikers would pop off dat fatty fust.” The betting was even as to whether he meant Kennedy or Sieberst, but the rival claimants “co-operated” by rendering a decision.
Worn, weary, and hungry we arrived at the Armory at 9:15, and found the Sacramento troops, Companies E and G of the Second Infantry, already under arms. Stacking arms on L street, and a strong guard being left at the stacks, we were marched in column of twos into the armory drill-hall where the now world-renowned “ample breakfast” supplied by Adjutant General Allen, late Second Lieutenant Commissary Department Missouri State Volunteers, awaited us. This, according to General Allen, “ample breakfast,” consisted of coffee strong enough “to run for Congress,” and bread. Certainly a very “ample” breakfast for men who had been awake and traveling all night, many without dinner the evening before, and executed such a trying march that morning. Ample, too, when it is considered that this was intended to serve both as breakfast and lunch, and, it might be dinner.
Thus is a lesson in economy given by the military heads of this great State to the civil heads who may wish to profit thereby.
Thus is the frugality of our forefathers, in their great battle for home and freedom on the shores of the Atlantic, exemplified on the distant shores of the calm Pacific by our ever to be remembered Adjutant General, late Second Lieutenant Commissary Department Missouri State Volunteers.
However, despite our foolish doubts as to the amplitude and quality of our meal, the shade of the hall and the relaxation from the fatigue of the march were very welcome.
While we were regaling ourselves a shot was heard fired in the street in front of the armory; and the report quickly spread that the shot had been fired by a striker in the crowd, wounding a soldier on guard at the stacks. This, however, proved untrue, as it was found that a private of the Sixth, in loading, accidentally discharged his piece, the firing-pin of which seems to have been rusty, the cartridge exploding when he tried to force it home. The bullet struck the front rank man in the calf of the leg, wounding him severely. Passing through the guardsman’s leg, it struck on a rock in the street and split, both pieces glancing into the crowd of sightseers. In the crowd four persons in all were injured, more or less severely; one of them, Mr. O. H. Wing, a citizen of Sacramento, being struck in the abdomen and killed. His death was deeply regretted by the soldiers; especially so as Mrs. Wing, his gentle, high-minded widow, wrote to the soldier, the unfortunate cause of her bereavement, exonerating him from all blame and assuring him of her deepest sympathy.
Having finished our ample breakfast the City Guard was marched from the armory in column of twos, and allowed to rest in the shade of an awning on the corner of Sixth and M streets.
Now and all during the campaign which followed the absurdly childish way in which the press and many of the people looked on the citizen soldiery, and on the work which they were doing at the call of their country, was both surprising and irritating to the men who had left their homes and business to protect the lives and property of their fellow-citizens. It is true this was no wild unled mob. It was worse; as was proven later by the most cold-blooded train wreck and murder ever perpetrated in the West, that of the 12th of July. A murder far beyond the abilities of our ignorant Eastern mobs, planned by the leaders and executed by some of the most important members of the A. R. U.