PHILADELPHIA. We were too
crowded in the cars to see much, or to do much, coming here. Most of us slept
nearly all the way. I did for one, but I had dreams of being trod on, and no
doubt I was, for there are some that never sleep, and are constantly on the
move. We finally stopped and were ferried across a river and landed in this
city.
We then marched to a large
hall called "The Cooper Shop," why, I don't know. We were given a
royal meal, breakfast I should call it, but it was so dark, and I was so sleepy
I hardly knew whether it was supper or breakfast. Cold beef, sausage, bread and
butter, cheese, and good hot coffee. It was far ahead of any meal we have had
so far. I am told that the place is kept open night and day by some benevolent
association, and that no regiment passes through without getting a good square
meal. If soldiering is all like this I am glad I am a soldier. If the Rebs ever
get as far North as Philadelphia, I hope the 128th New York may be here to help
defend the "Cooper Shop." After breakfast we went out on the sidewalk
and slept until after daylight. We soon after started for a railroad station,
where we took a train for Baltimore. Our ride so far has been one grand picnic.
We have lots of fun. No matter what our condition may be, there are some that
see only the funny side, and we have enough of that sort to keep up the spirits
of all. All along the way the people were out, and the most of them gave us
cheers, but not all, as was the case in Hudson. We are nearing the enemy's
country. The change in sentiment begins to show, and the farther we go, I
suppose, the less cheering we will hear, until finally we will get where the
cheers will all be for the other fellow, and we will find ourselves among foes
instead of friends.
Later. We are stuck on an
up-grade. The engine has gone ahead with a part of the train, and we are
waiting for it to come back. The train men say we are about forty miles from
Baltimore. That means forty miles from our fodder, and I for one am hungry now.
That meal at the Cooper Shop was good, but not lasting enough for this trip.
The boys are out on the ground having some fun and I am going to join them.
BALTIMORE, MD. We are here at
last. Marched about two miles from where the cars stopped, and are sitting on
the sidewalk waiting to see what will happen next. I hope it will be something
to eat, for I am about famished. Some of the men are about played-out. The
excitement and the new life are getting in their work. The day has been very
hot, too, and with nothing to eat since some time last night, it is not strange
we begin to wonder where the next meal is coming from, and when it will come.
Baltimore is not like New York. I know that much now, but I don't know enough
about either city to tell what the difference is. A regiment, fully armed,
escorted us here from the cars, and are either staying around to keep us from
eating up the city, or to keep the city from eating us, I don't know which.
Some act friendly, but the most of the people look as if they had no use for
us. Later. We have finally had something to eat. My folks always taught me
never to find fault with the victuals set before me, so I won't begin now. But
for that I should say something right now. But whatever it was it had a bracing
effect and we soon started and marched through the city to high ground, which I
am told is "Stewart's Hill."
SOURCE: Lawrence Van
Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p.
18-20
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