will provide them each with a Bible, and give them their mother's love and blessing, and tell them our prayers will accompany them, and ascend on their behalf night and day."

On the 19th of April, the Seventh Regiment of New York City, a regiment composed entirely of young men of wealth and high position, under Col. Lefferts, left New York, to hasten to the rescue of the Capital. Never did a band of men display more heroism or more true nobility and grandeur of spirit, than was manifested by these citizen soldiers, as regardless of fatigue and danger, they plunged into all the hardships and perils of war. They have richly merited, as the emblazonry of their escutcheon, the device, “The Generous, Gailant, Glorious Seventh." The terrible riot in Baltimore, by which the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment came so near destruction, was known by both officers and men. A fearful conflict was anticipated in forcing their way through Baltimore, against overpowering numbers, assailing them with bullets, and hurling down upon them paving stones, from the windows and roofs of houses.

All New York seemed to crowd Broadway, as this, its favorite regiment, with throbbing yet determined hearts, marched to the stern realities of war. By rail they proceeded to Philadelphia. Here they learned that the mob from Baltimore had torn up the rails, and burned the bridges, so effectually that it was impossible to reach that city, about forty miles distant, but by marching most of the way. They also learned that the whole city seemed to be in a blaze of rebel rage, every patriot voice being silenced, by terror, and that the city, thus in the hands of all "the lewd fellows of the baser sort," was prepared to resist the march of the volunteers, with the utmost desperation. Every house was converted into a fortress. Paving stones were collected upon the roofs, and howitzers planted in second story windows to sweep the streets.

To attempt to fight their way, under those circumstances, through a city of nearly 200,000 inhabitants, where traitors, by thousands, had long been secretly arming and organizing for the conflict, was almost certain destruction. And even should they succeed, and eventually fight their way through, such delay would be occasioned, that the rebels in Virginia, in possession of all the railroads there, could pour thousands of troops into Washington, before any defenders could reach the city.

The situation of the regiment was embarrassing in the extreme. All communication with the Capital was cut off; for the rebels had seized the post office and the telegraph wires. Under these circumstances, the colonel quietly, without letting his design be known, chartered a small steamer, to descend the Delaware, enter the Chesapeake, and ascend the Potomac to Washington, should that plan be found feasible. Should he find the Potomac blockaded by the rebels, he could disembark his troops at some convenient point, and march to the Capital.

A few hours before the Seventh New York Regiment reached Philadelphia, the Eighth Massachusetts had arrived there from Boston. They, of course, met the same difficulties the Seventh encountered. General Butler promptly seized a steamer, the Maryland, and embarked his troops;

no one knew but himself for what point. The captain and officers of the steamer were traitors, and would gladly have wrecked the vessel, but for the vigilant watch which was kept over them. As it was they ran the steamer ashore, in entering the harbor at Annapolis, and thus gave the rebels time to tear up the railroad, to destroy the locomotives and cars, and to gather armed bands to shoot down the patriots on their march. The spirit of these Massachusetts troops may be seen in the letter of a young man from Salem, one of their number, when they were expecting to have to fight their way through Baltimore. He wrote from Philadelphia:

"We have got to push our way through Baltimore, in the morning, at the point of the bayonet. But our boys are determined and in for it. Our bayonet exercise has got to put the whole regiment through. To tell you the truth, our boys expect to be split to pieces. But we have all made up our minds to die at our post. We have one great consolation before us the famous Seventh Regiment of New York will join us to-night, and at three o'clock in the morning we expect to take up our line of march. There is an unheard-of hot time before us. We are furnished with no ammunition as yet, and are to rely on our bayonets and revolvers solely. Perhaps before you receive this, I may be lying on the field with those recorded with the dead. But what is more glorious than to die for one's country? I am in as good spirits as our dubious position will admit; and I will die like a soldier, and like a true one if I must."

The young and eloquent writer, Fitz James O'Brien, who soon after died sadly, though bravely, in the hospital, of a severe wound, so graphically describes some of these scenes, that, by using his words, we can almost enable our readers to witness them. He was a member of the Seventh Regiment, and accompanied it on this memorable march.

All along the track through New Jersey, shouting crowds, hoarse and valorous, sent to the troops as they passed, their hopes and wishes. When they stopped at the different stations, rough hands came in through the windows, as if detached and isolated, until they were grasped by those within; and then the subtle magnetic thrill told that there were bold hearts beating at the end. This continued until night closed, and indeed until after midnight.

Within the cars the sight was strange. A thousand young men, the flower of the North, in whose welfare a million of friends and relatives were interested, were rushing along to expected hostilities, with the same smiling faces that they would wear going to a "German" "German" party of Fifth Avenue. It was more like a festivity than a march.

April 20th, at 4.20 P. M., they left the Philadelphia dock, on board the steamer Boston. The regiment was in entire ignorance of its destination. The first evening, April 20th, passed delightfully. All were in excellent spirits, and the calm, sweet evenings, that stole upon them as they approached the South, diffused a soft and gentle influence over them. April 21st was Sunday; a glorious, cloudless day. The steamer had gone on all night, and at 10 o'clock was in the vicinity of Chesapeake Bay. At 11 o'clock service was performed, and at 1 P. M. they were seven miles from