Officers began making preparations before the day was over. News of the Bull Run loss shocked the regiment and country. What everyone believed would be a short, easy defeat of the Rebels by a superior Federal army had gone horribly wrong; the army was in shambles and the defense of Washington in question. David Parker, Martin Boyden, and indeed the entire regiment were getting ready for the move they had been awaiting. Every tool, axe, shovel, and cooking pot was marked with regimental number and company letter. Tents were labeled on their outsides, indicating regiment and company, so when folded they could be easily identified. Personal gear such as cartridge boxes, haversacks and back packs were stenciled with each soldier’s name, number and company letter. Officers, who always tended toward having a few extra luxuries, would reduce gear to the minimum. Company officers such as Johnson, Chadwick and the Bliss brothers were to ensure each man had proper gear in anticipation of a move. Tin cups, plates, knives, forks and spoons were issued to those who somehow didn’t have them or had lost them. Though it was the middle of summer, rain was frequent, so heavy overcoats, called greatcoats, were issued along with woolen and rubber blankets that doubled as ground cloths and rain-proof ponchos. Finally the order to move came.
Two days after Bull Run, Colonel Taylor issued the orders all had expected: “The regiment will hold itself in readiness to march at 2 p.m. precisely.”1 Amongst the chaos of the regiment’s preparations to move out, Emerson Merrell, Lorey Wilder, and six other raw recruits arrived. They couldn’t have been greener; yet here they were, part of Johnson’s Company I. A quartermaster was summoned to issue them gear. They would need everything: coat, trousers, belt, hat and all the remaining gear. They would also need a meal and eventually a place to sleep. Perhaps the other men of Company I were envious of the new recruits; they had only one day on Staten Island and were fortunate to miss the stinking barracks, mosquitoes, and the copious amount of uncertainty. It must have been a welcomed relief for Sickles’ men when they were finally ordered to Washington on July 24.
The loss at Bull Run was not just a setback; it was a disaster. The Federal army had been sent reeling back in panic. Since the army intended to stop the enemy was now in tatters, citizens worried about Rebel soldiers sweeping into Washington. Excelsior men speculated about the outcome of the battle had they participated; firebrands among the boys no doubt felt they could have single-handedly sent the Rebels scampering back. Others, the more circumspect among the companies, may have recognized that while many within their ranks looked and acted like soldiers, especially those in seasoned militia units such as Stevens’ Company D, most were still raw and unfit for battle. Most had never even shot target practice, let alone learned skirmish drill or exercised with bayonet.2 Had they been at Bull Run, they too might have been among those sent “ske-daddling.” There would be plenty of war to come; better to fight when ready, many no doubt concluded. Among those anxious to defeat the Rebels and confident in the brigade’s abilities was Dan Sickles. Writing of the army’s disaster, he speculated about the battle had his Excelsiors been there: “It is not for me to say how the fortunes of that day might have been influenced by the presence of five thousand well-drilled troops, officers and men, all well known to each other, and animated by a strong esprit de corps.”3
Nelson Taylor commanded the regiment from the beginning to just before Fredericksburg in December of 1862. During his tenure, Taylor also commanded the Excelsior Brigade during Sickles’ frequent absences. Before the war, Taylor had gone west during the war with Mexico and remained in California, where he served in various governmental positions in the fledgling state. Taylor would eventually rise to rank of brigadier general, but he resigned early in 1863. A Harvard educated lawyer, after the war Taylor served one term in the United States House of Representatives (courtesy the U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center).
Moving to Washington was a welcome change to most in Third Excelsior. David Parker, the strong Lincoln-man, was glad to be heading for the “seat of war” and ultimate restoration of the Union, a cause for which he was determined to fight. “For we do not expect to bring back our banners untorn and unsoiled, but we expect that they will be discolored by smoke, and rent by bullets,” echoed Arthur McKinstry of Company D, adding, “Not a man of us is not eager to join in the strife.”4 But certainly not all within the regiment felt the same as David and Arthur.
In Sickles’ zeal to fill up the ranks of his five regiments, he mustered nearly anyone who could meet the minimum standards, and in some cases those who couldn’t. In and around New York City, unsavory characters, gutter-sweeps, and genuine convicts were accepted into the ranks. Judges often allowed men freedom from jail in exchange for enlistment with Sickles. For the anxious boys from near Lake Erie, the cramped, smelly, and unmilitary conditions of the barracks and the sparse living of Camp Scott would have seemed like purgatory if not outright hell. But for those who faced prison and whose motives were somewhat less patriotic, the mosquitoes of Staten Island were likely preferable to the bullets of Bull Run. For the sweeps, waiting would be just fine.
By the time the regiment was set to move, all field and staff positions, officers, non-commissioned officers and others serving at the regimental, not company level, had been filled. Taylor was the colonel and Stevens served as major. Prominent New York doctor Israel Moses was the lieutenant colonel; he had served with the army for some time and had invented an ambulance in 1855 that bore his name. At the end of the Mexican War, and in poor health, Moses left the army to join the staff of the newly formed Jews Hospital (later renamed Mt. Sinai Hospital). At the outbreak of the war, the soft spoken Dr. Moses was arguably among the most prominent Jews in New York. But upon joining Third Excelsior, he left his scalpel home, enrolling instead as a line officer.5 Serving as surgeon of Third Excelsior was Dr. Charles K. Irwin. Irwin had practiced dentistry in Canada for several years before graduating from the medical college in Albany in 1856. Settling in Dunkirk, he practiced medicine until mustering into the regiment.6 Chaplain Levi Warren Norton oversaw the spiritual well-being of the regiment. Norton was a 41-year-old Episcopalian when he enrolled in the regiment. He served as rector in New Jersey before eventually settling in Jamestown, where he was rector prior to the war.7
At 2 p.m. on July 24 the officers and men, except for the usual stragglers, were assembled and ready to move. Sickles’ First Regiment had left the day before, and now it was time for Taylor’s boys and Second Regiment. David Parker and Martin Boyden still hadn’t moved an hour later, but after seven weeks in the army, they had learned to wait. Finally by early evening a boat arrived to take them the dozen or so miles to South Amboy, New Jersey, where they boarded railroad cars of the Camden and Amboy Railroad for the next leg of their trip to the threatened capital, Washington, D.C. An enthusiastic reception greeted the regiments all along the route. “The stridulous notes of small boys mingling with the deeper shouts of men who knew wherefore they hailed us. The women especially favored us with clouds of fluttering handkerchiefs at every station,” wrote the Second Regiment’s 22-year-old, Yale-educated chaplain, Joseph H. Twichell.8 Arriving in Camden, New Jersey, early the next morning, the boys took the steamer across the Delaware River to Philadelphia, marching the last bit to the Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon on Otsego Street. The Cooper Shop was only a short distance from the Philadelphia Naval Yard, and there everyone enjoyed a fine breakfast hosted by local citizens. Arthur McKinstry observed:
In the morning we arrived just about in season for breakfast in the city of “Brotherly Love,” which we found to be no misnomer, for, almost the first thing which met our eyes was a mammoth sign reading “Coffee and refreshments free for Union Volunteers.” Along in front was a roof or awning under which was a long range of wash basins, where we were overjoyed to perform our abolutions [sic]. Then we adjourned to the spacious saloon and partook of a bounteous repast which had the merit of a neatness which we who had dwelt so long in camp, knew full well how to appreciate.9
To ensure the soldiers remained sober, guards were posted at the door of every “rum hole” in the neighborhood.10 And though a few bottles did make it into circulation, serious problems among the men were avoided. The Cooper’s Shop had only opened a couple of months before and was one of two such refreshment saloons in the city where volunteer citizens, without state or city funds, provided thousands of soldiers with free meals as they passed through.
After enjoying a wonderful breakfast, good enough, as one soldier wrote, “for a first class hotel,”11 and a short rest, the two regiments once again boarded railroad cars for the next leg of the trip, amid the encouragements of a thousand cheering citizens. Arriving in Baltimore on the evening of the 25th, Taylor marched his men through the city. The reception received in Baltimore was in stark contrast to their sendoff in Camden. Many Marylanders favored secession, and though it remained in the Union, there had already been serious problems between Federal troops and disloyal agitators. There was no cheering or waving crowd, no flying of the American flag. Third Excelsior marched in silence. The only encouragement came from the few slaves they passed in the fields, which served to remind them the realities of war were close. There were other signs of war along the way. Pickets, Massachusetts men mostly, posted every half-mile or so and at every bridge, kept watch.12 Merrell, Parker, and the rest reached Washington at 5 a.m. the next morning. After unloading their baggage and eating breakfast, the brigade marched about two miles northeast of the capitol to Brentwood, where, on a hill overlooking Washington and the surrounding countryside, they established Camp Marsh.13 Soon after arriving, Emerson Merrell wrote home:
We occupy as splendid a position as there is in the United States. We can see the whole city of Washington, Fairfax, Washington Heights and Georgetown Heights. We have a splendid view of the Capitol and the White House, also the patent office. I have seen plenty of niggers but never have I seen a cecession flag not with standing. We are encamped on a cecessionista farm stocked with thirty nigroes [sic]. He has got about 20 acres of corn that stands 12 feet high average and may be we can have an ear of roasted corn now and then and once in a while a few new potatoes and cucumbers and apples.14
Excelsior Brigade’s arrival in Washington helped somewhat to calm fears among the locals. Less than a week after Bull Run, many units that had fought and then skedaddled were still in no shape to fight again, and the presence of 3,000 or so troops in a large, cohesive body went some ways to reassure the citizens. The Excelsior Brigade contained among the first batches of three-year men to reach the capital. Lincoln’s initial call had been for 90-day volunteers, so confident were the nation and government of a quick victory. These New Yorkers represented the new reality; the war would be a much longer, more costly affair. Sickles’ men had enlisted for three years or until the end of hostilities, whichever came first. Men could always re-enlist if the war went longer, but most believed and certainly hoped that three years was more than enough.
The five regiments of Sickles’ Brigade were a cultural cross-section of the northeast. Of the 50 companies that eventually made up the brigade, 14 came from outside of New York State. Two were from Massachusetts, one from Michigan, five from Pennsylvania and six from New Jersey. The 36 companies from New York represented the nine counties of Cattaraugus, Chautauqua, Delaware, Kings, New York, Orange, Queens, Suffolk and Ulster. The brigade represented a variety of ethnic, social, and military backgrounds. The Fifth Regiment took 400 men from the New York Naval Yard. The tough, rowdy demeanor of these dock workers kept a company of boys from the Michigan countryside nervous and at a distance. And while the Third Regiment had enough Germans to warrant their own company, there were Irish enough in the brigade to merit a Catholic Priest, Father Joseph B. O’Hagan. The Fourth Regiment was recruited primarily from the New York City Fire Department. They wore Zouave uniforms modeled after French colonial troops of northern Africa, and carried the nickname Second Fire Zouaves. While most men in the brigade wore the standard issue Federal coat and trousers, there were variations, both large and small, as companies formed around local militia units. The Third’s, B and D, for example, arrived in uniforms provided them by their local citizenry. Except for the scattered Zouave companies, and the entire Fourth Regiment, the brigade was blue. Differences in social and moral fiber between troops were broad and distinct. There were seasoned, patriotic pillars of their communities, such as Stevens and Brown; there were those such as Parker and Merrell who seemed called by both a sense of duty and adventure; and then there were the hard men: dock workers, gang toughs, and down-and-outs for whom joining Sickles made some sort of sense, be it patriotic or more practical, release from jail.
These toughs and their accompanying wickedness were the kind of men from whom 23-year-old Hiram Stoddard of Co. B prayed for deliverance: “I am where gambling is going on all of the time and profanity is used at evry [sic] breath and there is no getting out of the sound of it. I try to pray evry [sic] day that God would in his goodness keep me from sin.”15 Charles Gould of Company I echoed Stoddard’s sentiments about the regiment:
We left Staten Island two weeks ago in good spirits. I however was never so disgusted before at the effects of rum. All the officers were drunk. Half of the companies were lying around like a bunch of brutes.
Many a mother bade her son adieu. Sorry to expose him to the temptations that he must meet in the Army. While they are praying for them their sons are playing a game of cards or lying around drunk on the ground. I sincerely thank god for giving me parents who taught me, by Godlike example, to shun all vice. Their prayer I believe will not go unanswered.16
Certainly such coarse behavior was not only limited to the Third Regiment. Father O’Hagan summed up his initial thoughts about other Excelsior men in a letter:
Such a collection of men was never before united in one body since the flood. Most of them were the scum of New York society, reeking with vice and spreading a moral malaria around them. Some had been serving terms of penal servitude on Blackwell’s Island at the outbreak of the war, but were released on condition of enlisting in the army of the Union, and they gladly accepted the alternative.17
Social divides between the men remained, especially in the more diverse regiments such as Taylor’s. While company pride and a sense of western superiority still existed, by August the regiment was slowly coming together. “When we first came, we had few companies upon the ground which it would do to associate with,” wrote McKinstry, “but now no man need remain behind on that account, for he can mingle with his peers, be they of whatever class.”18
Arriving in Washington, Taylor reported his men to be using the Model 1842 musket, though some in the ranks wrote about using an 1833 model. Both weapons started life as .69 caliber smoothbores, designed to fire a buck-and-ball load: one large .69 ball and at least two smaller .30 ones. The 1842s the regiment now used had been altered, and were among the 10,000 or so retooled into rifles with grooves cut into the inside wall of the barrel, imparting a spin to the ball. By eliminating the buckshot portion of the load, the amount of lead fired with each shot was reduced, and in theory this would greatly improve range and accuracy. However, at least one man in the regiment reported that both expert and novice shots were equally, and wildly, inaccurate with the weapon. By the end of July, Taylor reported seven of his companies had been issued the weapon and hadn’t begun either target or bayonet practice. Taylor now considered his remaining companies that had just joined Third Excelsior as nearly raw recruits. It is unclear by Taylor’s report if these raw men had even been issued weapons by the time of their arrival in Washington.19
Despite deficiencies, Taylor now reported most units within the regiment to be nearly ready for the field. The commissary, quartermaster, and medical departments would all be “sufficiently complete in three days for campaigning except for wagons and ambulances, of which there were none.”20
Fourth and Fifth Excelsior for the time being were still in New York, adding men to reach the recommended full strength of between 800 and 1,000 men. Without all five Excelsior regiments present, an interim provisional brigade was established, composed of Sickles’ three regiments already in Washington and the 69th New York State Militia.21
Since their arrival and the establishment of Camp Marsh, the boys of the regiment kept busy with continuous drill, target practice and dress parades. The nation was still reeling from the defeat at Bull Run and the shaky state of the army. More than ever, Washington was a city on edge. The air was hot and muggy, which only helped fuel the rampant rumor mill. Almost daily there were new reports of imminent Rebel attacks or other military or political intrigues. Frequently the boys were rousted from sleep by false alarms in the night. The accompanying odd rifle shot only served to heighten the tension and drama. Washington was turning into an armed camp with the enemy just across the river.
Sickles issued orders on August 8 to curtail evening parade and make ready for a review at the Executive Mansion before himself and none other than Abraham Lincoln.22 Since arriving in Washington, Sickles had been a frequent visitor to the White House, where his wit and sparkling personality won the friendship of the president and first lady. In times like these, Lincoln liked any man who could get things done and wanted to fight, and Sickles, it seemed, was just that sort of man for, despite the critics, the Excelsiors were shaping up into fine soldiers.23 For an hour, Emerson Merrell, Lorey Wilder, and the rest paraded in front of the president, first lady, and others. “We arrived there about sun down, and drew up before the White House,” wrote one Company B man. “Abraham soon came out, dressed in a linen coat and plug hat, both the worse for wear.”24 While the rank and file were proud, there certainly was no one prouder than Sickles. Of the parade before Lincoln and the rest, N.P. Willis of the Home Journal wrote, “I have seldom seen a finer military show. Sickles is a soldier and a brave one.” In less than four months, Dan had gone from unhappy lawyer to rising star.
While Sickles enjoyed a certain celebrity in Washington, not everyone shared the enthusiasm. Captain William Wiley had been left behind in New York to clean up the messy birth of the Excelsior Brigade, facing angry merchants and demanding creditors alone. He felt abandoned and was now determined to dispel the myth of Sickles’ alleged hero status, eventually putting his feelings to paper:
So he marched off with three regiments, and paraded them before Lincoln, and said he had done all this out of his own pocket. There were piles of judgments against him in the offices. He had no more to do with the brigade than the receiving of the recruits…. It was fifteen months before I could get a settlement. He left me in the lurch…. I left him on account of it; denounced him then, and have done so since.25
The day after parading in front of Lincoln, the brigade received orders to move to a position on the outskirts of the capital. They moved across the eastern branch of the Potomac River, also known as the Anacostia, to Good Hope Heights in Maryland. Here they established Camp Caldwell, “about four miles south of Washington on a hill very beautifully situated about ? of a mile from the first regt,”26 described Merrell. The heat and previous night’s parade played havoc among the men, wrote McKinstry:
We struck our tent and started under a burning sun for a march of six miles, but we took a wrong road and made ten of it…. After getting well over [the Anacostia], we took a good rest, and gave the stragglers who had given out a chance to close up. The men were in poor condition to travel, for they had been to the White House the night before to be inspected by President Lincoln, and the heat was so great that about forty gave out; completely exhausted.27
With Camp Caldwell established, new duties were added to the routine of drill and camp life. Individual companies from the various regiments were sent out on picket duty tours lasting five days. Those from Third Excelsior were stationed across from Alexandria, Virginia, and charged with guarding the roads leading to Washington.28 This would serve not only to protect the capital but also to cut off communications between Maryland secessionists and Virginia rebels.
There was no doubt among the boys of Third Excelsior that they had arrived at the seat of war. The regiments of the brigade were spread out along the slopes of Good Hope Heights. They camped on land belonging to owners with secessionist leanings. Some landowners even had kin serving in the Rebel army. Locals gave the Yankee occupiers only cold, blank stares. “In the country about us I think a good many secessionists may be found,” wrote Arthur. “Our sentries now load their guns, and any man who attempts to escape, or to enter after dark without permission, will be fired on. Ten round of ball cartridge are served out to each man.”29 Locals wanted nothing to do with the invaders. Occasionally, only the most mercenary of merchants would sell fresh produce to the blue-coated Yankees. A local Union man tried to help. “He had been attempting to supply our soldiers with milk,” reported McKinstry, “but gave it up because the planters would rather feed it to their hogs than to sell it for 40 cents per gallon to Union volunteers.”30 To Arthur, it seemed only the slaves were happy to have him there.
Summer rain was common for Maryland, and the soldiers dealt with it best they could. Branches, twigs, and other foliage made improvised floors for tents, but most remained slick, muddy messes. Often rain fell for two or three days without letup. Emerson Merrell found during these wet times that his oiled cloth blanket worked well to keep him dry. The boys stood sentry for one day and one night in every eight, in shifts of two hours on and four hours off. Emerson and his mates thought the routine “not very hard if it does not rain.”31 But of course it did.
During those brief times when it wasn’t raining and they weren’t drilling or busy with fatigue duties, men across the army wrote letters home. Letters allowed the boys to keep in touch with far off friends and family, who were even farther now that Third Excelsior was in Washington. The boys wrote often, sometimes three or more times a week, and were even more anxious to receive correspondence from home, complaining to loved ones if expected allotments of letters did not arrive. Sometimes the desire for a letter, any letter, was more important than who wrote it. The following was posted in the local Jamestown paper by some enterprising Third Excelsior men:
ATTENTION LADIES.—We, the undersigned officers, non-commissioned officers, musicians, or privates, valiant, gay, and gallant Chautauqua County bark-peelers, having faithfully served our country since the formation of the grand Army of the Potomac, do hereby advertise, through the columns of the local press, as the last resort by which to obtain the much coveted correspondence of those some of those noble daughters of Chautauqua, who have so kindly assisted us thus far in our efforts to crush this cruel and unnatural rebellion…. If any of the above said Ladies, of that noble and patriotic County, “which we have the honor in part to represent,” should choose to write, they will receive a hearty response from the subscribers.
LONELY.32
David Parker continued in service to Colonel Taylor, his duties expanding to include daily runs into the city to fetch the regiment’s mail. Because of the controversial beginning of the brigade, many within the regiment had not been paid since mustering and hence had no money for postage. To help remedy this postage problem, David took the un-stamped mail to the offices of his Chautauqua County congressman, Reuben E. Fenton. Fenton then sent the boys’ letters on for free using his congressional franking privilege. After a short period of these daily visits to the congressman’s office, Fenton authorized David to write his name and mark the letters, “Free. R.E. Fenton, M.C.” This saved time and money and served to popularize the congressman throughout the regiment and state, helping him to upset Horatio Seymour in the 1864 governor’s election.33
On August 20, the regiment formed up and marched the mile or so over to the Naval Yard. Emerson and the rest marveled at the amount of stores: muskets by the tens of thousands, hundreds of cannon, everything an army would need to win a war. Here were even a few Southron prisoners bearing an expected sour look as the regiment paraded by. The purpose of the regiment’s trip had been to exchange weapons. They were giving up their old muskets for newer “Harper’s Ferry Muskets,” and though there is some historical confusion over exactly which weapons they received, it is clear the change was met with frustration. “There we exchanged our guns for Harper’s Ferry muskets. Though these are a decided improvement on the old guns, we were bitterly disappointed that we did not receive rifles,”34 wrote McKinstry, who added:
There were muskets enough to supply an army, but I did not see rifle enough to arm a single company…. I also visited the cartridge manufactory, and admired the expeditious manner in which powder and ball were got ready for our hands. It was a significant fact, that to the bullet which is commonly put up was added there buck shot—and four of us loaded on one of our wagons 30,000 of these cartridges, with 5,000 of ball only, for target use. We have fired at target a little and find that our guns are a hard hitting arm, at which ever end the mark may be. They are very inaccurate, but shoot with great force, and the fire of buck and ball by a battalion must prove terribly destructive.35
A shipment of uniforms arrived for the regiment around this same time. Until now the men had been equipped with a variety of outfits provided by their respective militia companies or Federal issue. Taylor’s men would now start looking like a regiment rather than a mere collection of companies. Arthur McKinstry described the new allocation:
Our new State jackets have come, and they are really a first class article. They are of dark blue, and are far more tasty than gay. Pants of the same have come, but only a few have been served round, and I do not think there are enough as yet to uniform the regiment. While at Camp Scott we did not supposed ourselves recognized as State Militia, but the uniforms and other things seem to indicate that we are…. We have no new caps as yet, but many have bought the saucy little fez caps, which the French Zouaves wear. They are of a deep crimson color with heavy dark blue tassel. I think the company will obtain them, if not the regiment. They contrast strongly with the dark blue jacket; and a body of men so uniformed look both soldierly and picturesque.36
By this time the Fourth and Fifth Excelsior had resolved their recruiting issues and had rejoined the brigade. For the past several weeks internal issues had been tearing at Fourth Excelsior, and it was hoped these issues were now resolved.
Initial recruiting was unexpectedly slow and erratic. From its inception there had been uneasiness about the regiment’s colonel, James Fairman. A newspaper article speculated, “It is a question if the regiment will be much of a success; several of the men thus far enlisted would have to be rejected by an inspecting officer. Cannot they get hold of some spirited wide-awake well-known military officers to take a hand in the organization?”37 Fairman had been the presumptive leader of the regiment, having given early support for Sickles’ brigade. But soon there were repeated clashes with Sickles, and eventually Dan worked to rid himself of the unruly colonel. Fairman believed Sickles to be unworthy of command and felt his regiment was trapped in a brigade with an unfit general. Fairman also believed Sickles intended to strip the regiment of all vestiges of fireman origins by eliminating its “Second Fire Zouaves” designation. In August the New York Times reported this scene:
While the regiment was on the dock, Col. Fairman, wearing no sword, made his appearance. “Where is your excellent march down Broadway, and your hand of music?” he asked. “There he is; that’s our Colonel!” was immediately the cry; and the men who had a moment before appeared listless and jaded, brightened up, becoming all life and animation. Making his way to a pile of coal bags, Col. Fairman mounted them, and, as his soldiers pressed eagerly around him, told them of the trouble he had had in preventing that regiment of which they were the members from losing its name and organization as the “Second Fire Zouaves;” and that Sickles, who was no more of a Brigadier-General than any of them, had done his best to rob the regiment of its name and identity, and have it attached to the Excelsior Brigade and depose him as Colonel. During the above recital Col. Fairman was often interrupted with “Three cheers for Col. Fairman!” “Three groans for Dan Sickles!” “To h–ll with Dan Sickles!” “D—n Sickles!” and exclamations of a like nature not at all complimentary to Mr. Sickles. Col. Fairman then read to the men the following orders from the War Department, showing indubitably that he was their legitimate Colonel.38
Initially there seemed to be early sympathy for Fairman among the enlisted men and in the press: “There appears to be no inconsiderable difficulty in regard to affairs in this regiment. A number of interested parties, actuated by political feelings, have determined upon removing Colonel Fairman. Out of the ten companies, seven are decidedly in his favor, and will leave the regiment if he is removed.”39
Eventually recruitment into the Second Fire Zouaves exceeded 800, and the regiment prepared to board ships to join the brigade near Washington. Fed up with Fairman, Sickles instructed Major John Moriarity to arrest the colonel should he try to enter camp. Moriarity disregarded the arrest order, but as Fairman attempted to board the transports the colonel was relieved of his position. Sickles placed Moriarity in command until the regiment reached the outskirts of Washington. There, an election for colonel was held. Prior to the vote, officers reflected on Fairman’s shortcomings. Embracing previous agreements among the regiment’s officers, Fairman believed he would be elected to the post, but instead William R. Brewster won by a landslide.
Fairman’s ouster caused some excitement among the rank and file, but shortly thereafter, the men accepted Brewster. One Fire Zouave recounted in the newspaper:
The disputed Colonelcy still excites considerable attention. The heart and soul of the regiment was once for Fairman. But when the deception practiced by him was fully exposed, the sentiment underwent an entire change. The unjust interference of New York politicians’ is depriving us of our pay, which many that have families are sadly in need of. Should Fairman be forced on us, we will never fulfill the dearest hopes of our friends. When Colonel Brewster took command there was scarcely any to bid him welcome, as we then believed that Colonel Fairman had been unjustly deprived of the command. But his cool, deliberate action daily tends to increase our confidence in him as commanding officer. The same can also be said of Gen. Sickles. When the regiment left New York, the cry was, “We will never serve under Gen. Sickles!” On last Saturday, at brigade review, I can assure the readers of your paper that Gen. Sickles was never more heartily cheered in his life than he was by the Second Regiment of Fire Zouaves.40
Because the entire brigade was mostly untrained, they spent much of each day drilling and perfecting the skills needed on campaign. About two miles from Camp Caldwell was a large field on which the regiment often marched, conducting battalion drill “with plenty of room for the various necessary movements.”41 Nineteen-year-old musician Frank G. Stevens from Fredonia described the scene in an October letter home:
Our camp is situated about 2½ or 3 miles from Washington, but our drill grounds are about 2 miles from here, in the State of Maryland. The Regiment goes over there every day, right after dinner, and the Band go anywhere from 3 o’clock to 5, and escort the Regiment into camp. We take it easy going over, and gathering chestnuts which are in great quantities and very large. I like it first rate, and would not come home if I could. We have large wall tents with a flyleaf over the top which covers the whole top, making it a double top and perfectly water tight.
This week, Tuesday, the whole Brigade was reviewed by Gen. Sickles and staff, on our drill grounds. It was the greatest military display that I ever saw. Our regiment had the position of honor in the Brigade, (the right of the Brigade,) as it is the best drilled. We are the only regiment that has got a Band and that sets us up a peg or so.42
Men from the western companies enjoyed the reflected glory of their former captain’s prominence within the regiment. “At battalion maneuvers, whenever Col. Taylor is absent, Major Stevens takes the lead,” commented a Company D man, “for however good an executive officer Lieut. Col. Israel Moses may be, his voice is so deficient in power that he is utterly unable to take any effective command.”43 Many took great pride in drill and in their preparations for the sterner duties that waited, but Henry B. Taylor of Company B held another opinion:
Take a man from his work-shop or farm, he is running over with patriotism, and is ready to shed the last drop of blood in defence [sic] of his country’s honor; let him enlist, and put him under strict military discipline, and in less than three months he will be a mere machine, which must work perfect in all its parts, he does his work mechanically, his patriotism drilled and starved out of him. We gain nothing by drilling; while we are drilling and perfecting our army, the enemy are not idle, they can drill as long as we can. The best fighting that has been done was done by undisciplined troops, who had no chance to drill.44
Following the defeat at Bull Run, Washington had turned into the most fortified city in the Western world, with troops arriving every day and defensive works being built at every possible approach. So in addition to daily drill, the boys of the regiment were detailed in the construction of two forts. Fort Wagner and Fort Baker sat on the heights opposite the Navy Yard and commanded the city’s approaches from the Potomac’s east side. Major Stevens was put in charge of the building effort, using men from throughout the brigade.45
But building forts was only one part of the defense of Washington. On September 8, the boys of the regiment joined an expedition into the counties of lower Maryland to root out enemy spies, scouts, and provocateurs. Fearing Rebel infiltrators might use the Southern-sympathizing region as a base of operation within the Union, the president wanted potential troublemakers off of his side of the river or in jail. The Excelsiors had orders to stop any flow of information or war materials to the Rebels. To fulfill those orders, a special detachment was formed from companies throughout the brigade. Lt. Col. H.L. Potter of the Second Regiment would lead it. Third Excelsiors’ contribution to the expedition would be Stevens’ old Company D, now under Captain Abell. For the next two weeks Potter’s battalion stormed about Maryland looking for enemy agents. Arthur McKinstry was part of the expedition and wrote a lengthy and detailed account of the adventure:
Last Sunday, Sept. 8th, we received orders to prepare to leave with one day’s rations in our haversacks. Every man was all astir with excitement, the sick, who could walk, suddenly got well, and the biggest company was turned out that had ever been seen since pay day.46
Arriving after a short ways at Good Hope Tavern, Abell and his band joined two more companies, one of Fire Zouaves from the Second Regiment and another of Zouaves from the Fifth. Heading southeast, the expedition loaded their pieces about three miles out after passing pickets from First Excelsior. A company of cavalry soon took the lead as scouts. Within the first few days Potter’s force had trudged through Cedarville and on to Upper Marlborough, collecting suspicious weapons of sometimes dubious importance as they went, a fine double barred shotgun and ancient flintlock among the haul.
The column eventually arrived at Butler’s Tavern late one night, eleven miles or so from Annapolis. While the men slept, Potter roused an “army of niggers” to cook hoe-cakes and boil meat. “A number of persons were brought in here,” reported Arthur. “One had in his house a Southern captain’s uniform, and Col. Potter desired the pleasure of his company back at headquarters. This invitation was unhesitatingly complied with.”47 Next they forded the main branch of the Patuxent River on their way to Queen Anne. Here Arthur recorded a welcome sight:
On entering the village we passed a neat house, in the doorway of which, a lady stood, waving a small Union flag. This was the only hearty Union sign that we saw in the place, and was greeted by our boys with round of applause. As the lady kept somewhat within her dwelling, I concluded she desired to escape the observation of the neighbors.48
Encountering mostly contempt, Potter’s band continued to scour the countryside for signs of trouble as they worked their way further south, marching as many as 14 miles a day in an unusually roundabout manner. Operationally the expedition resembled a wagon wheel, with marches frequently radiating out from Potter’s headquarters near Good Hope Tavern. Other times the men merely marched from place to place, overnighting in the field. While on the march McKinstry reported that he felt unwell and stayed behind as the rest went on without him. Feeling better, he then plodded along the roads by himself, eventually hitching a ride in a wagon with a transplanted Connecticut man who took McKinstry home with him. “Here we were received by his wife and two children, who were quite refreshing to behold, from their neatness and evident intelligence, as contrasted with the ignorance and almost beastial [sic] degradation of some of their neighbors.”49
The expedition marched as far south as Allen’s Fresh, a small creek east of where the Potomac winds south again after rounding Mathias Point. After a few days of combing the countryside for rebel activities the Excelsiors moved north from Allen’s Fresh to Port Tobacco, the supposed “grand centre of treason for Southern Maryland.”50 Here Sickles joined the expedition, bringing with him a squadron of cavalry. The general now conducted his own reconnaissance for 30 miles in each direction. From Port Tobacco the Excelsiors moved 16 miles north to their next stopping place, Piscataway. Piscataway, while only several miles from Washington, was another supposed nest of treason. Though home to a “rebel recruiting office,”51 here shone one of the few glimmers of Union patriotism of the trip; a small flag, the Stars and Stripes, was displayed in the window of a local home.
For the boys of Company D, searching farms, questioning disagreeable locals and camping in the field, while unpleasant, was still better than swinging pick and shovel back at forts Wagner and Baker. For McKinstry, the adversities of the adventure had served to further bond the company:
While upon our march, Capt. Abell was found to be good and jovial company, and the unbending rules which he enforces in camp were relaxed. Indeed a common sense of duty and of danger kept every man in his place ready to attack the foe or defend our expedition. The men all bore up bravely, while toward the last the Zouaves dropped behind us by the dozen. The baggage wagon was loaded, but by other men.52
When it was all over, commanders reported that a large number of Rebel agents had been caught and their job was done. Though it is uncertain just how successful the Excelsiors were in clearing the land of traitors, it was doubtless they were in hostile territory. A New York Times writer traveling with the expedition summed it up this way:
The inhabitants are intensely treasonable in their sentiments, and the soldiers of the Union were very much of an eye-sore to them. The men were silent, but the women gave free vent to their feelings of hatred. But this mattered little. The Negroes were true to the Union and to us, and the most valuable information was gained.53
But while “valuable information” may have been gained in Maryland, it would not be enough. The Potomac River was critical to the North and had to be kept safe for Union ships. As long as Rebels occupied its banks, there was a threat. Two-week expeditions into Maryland would not be enough to secure the river; Sickles’ men would soon be leaving Washington.