We always gave Colonel Dimmock credit for an act of kind thoughtfulness on this occasion. When the news came he remembered that he had an engagement “on shore,” and announced that he should be absent for a day. “Of course,” he said, “you will fire a salute, and I don’t like the sound of great guns.” The fact was, no doubt, that he feared that his presence might be a restraint upon our joviality, and for that reason he took himself away. There had been no talk of anything except the salute, but as he left the fort he turned to the Major and said, in his absent-minded way, “By the by, Major, when the men are allowed a little unusual liberty, unusual discretion is needed on the part of the commanding officer, you know.”
From the time required to prepare for that salute, it was evident that the Alabama might have steamed up the channel and into Boston harbor before we could have brought any guns to bear upon her, but at noon the guns were manned and the salute was fired. While the preparations were in progress, the band-master of the 1st Artillery presented himself at headquarters to ask a favor. The last gun he had fired was the last from Fort Sumter, and he now requested permission to fire the first gun of the salute for the victory. Of course he was allowed to do so, and he was cheered as he went to his station.
The Colonel was very chary of that band and we had never had any benefit from it; but the Post being pro tempore under the command of our Major, they were turned out and made useful. All drills were suspended for the day. The men, in small parties, were allowed to stroll outside the walls. Some luxuries were added to the ration. The band played and the men danced to its music and skylarked generally. At night there was an illumination, masquerading, and singing, and for once tattoo did not sound at the time set down in the orders.
A week later a detachment of prisoners from Fort Donelson was added to our establishment, mostly long, gaunt men, given to wearing sombrero hats, and chewing tobacco. With this party came Generals Buckner and Tilghman.
In February too, the last of the private soldiers, held at the fort as prisoners of war, were sent south to be exchanged. When the transport was ready for the embarkation, four negroes, servants to officers who were about to return home, asked to be allowed to accompany their masters. Colonel Dimmock, becoming satisfied that they preferred to go back to North Carolina, consented to allow them to do so, but took the not unnecessary precaution to have other evidence of the fact that they returned to slavery on their own motion, sending them with his orderly to the Major with the request that he would examine the “boys” and satisfy himself as to whether they went of their own accord—which they certainly did.
As good-weather days became more frequent, our battalion, now of six companies, settled down more regularly to its work. At the request of our commanding officer the full code of discipline, with no abatement because we were volunteers, was the rule by which we were governed, and no one was more surprised at the result than Colonel Dimmock.
With the end of April, 1862, we had fairly drilled through the book, and on the first day of May the battalion was reviewed by Governor Andrew, and exercised in battalion movements in presence of the Governor and a staff which had become critical in military movements. At the close of the parade, Colonel Dimmock, who was not wont to abound in compliments, publicly congratulated the Major as the commander of a body of thoroughly-disciplined soldiers.
The Union armies were now everywhere victorious, and at the North we expected every day to hear that the rebels had come to that “last ditch.” Wearying of the monotony, and in expectation of an early peace, the Major resigned, and on the 2d of May was relieved from duty and returned to his business life. To him the parting was unexpectedly trying, but people cannot be shut up together for five months without loving or hating each other.
For weeks the duty went on, the command devolving upon Captain Stephenson, and the warm spring weather and longer days were improved to the utmost in keeping away the possibility of rust.
The official acceptance of the Major’s resignation had been received at the Post, but had not been promulgated, when on the night following Sunday, May 25th, at an hour or more past midnight, a steam tug landed him at the Post, and a half hour later everybody was awake, and the fort was alive with the news that since the last sundown the 1st Battalion had become the 32d Massachusetts Infantry—that Major Parker was promoted to the Lieutenant Colonelcy—that marching orders had been received—that Banks had been driven down the Shenandoah Valley—that Washington was menaced by the forces under Stonewall Jackson—that the country had again been summoned to the defence of the capital—that at last our time had come.