USA > Rhode Island > History of the Ninth and Tenth Regiments Rhode Island Volunteers, and the Tenth Rhode Island Battery, in the Union Army in 1862 > Part 21
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Since 1883 annual reunions have been held, nearly all on May 26th, the anniversary of the date of enlistment.
On the Fourth of July, 1887, the Tenth Rhode Island Veteran Association, William A. Spicer, president, participated in the ceremonies incident to the unveiling of the Burnside Equestrian Statue, on Exchange Place, Providence. Soldiers and citizens, State and city, joined in the tribute. The Providence Journal in referring to the presence of General Sherman said : " Other cities had interesting features in their celebration of the Fourth, but to Providence alone was reserved the best of all, William Tecumseh Sherman."
At the reunion of May, ISSS, the steel howitzer, captured by the Tenth in 1862, was exhibited on the platform. It has since been placed with other memorials, in the museum of the Rhode Island Historical Society, Providence.
Quartermaster James H. Armington exhibited a sample of the " hard-tack " dealt out to the boys in 1862. He said according to the date thereon it was officially inspected in 1855.
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The officers of the Tenth Veteran Association, have been as follows :
Presidents.
1877 to 1884. COL. JAMES SHAW, JR.
1885. CAPT. AND EX-Gov. ELISHA DYER.
1886. CAPT. WILLIAM E. TABER.
ISS7. SERGT. PHILIP B. STINESS.
1888. PRIV. WILLIAM A. SPICER.
1889. SERGT. HENRY R. BARKER.
1 890. PRIV. WILLIAM A. HARRIS.
1891. LIEUT. LEANDER C. BELCHER.
1 892. QUAR .- SERGT. ASA LYMAN.
1 893. SERGT. ALBERT J. MANCHESTER.
1894. CORP. WILLIAM A. H. GRANT.
Vice-Presidents.
CAPT. WILLIAM E. TABER,
SERGT. WILLIAM H. H. BRAYMAN,
SERGT. PHILIP B. STINESS,
LIEUT. CHARLES F. PHILLIPS (president pro tem),
SERGT. WILLIAM STONE,
PRIV. ROBERT B. HOLDEN,
PRIV. WILLIAM A. HARRIS,
LIEUT. LEANDER C. BELCHER,
SERGT. ALBERT J. MANCHESTER,
CORP. WILLIAM A. H. GRANT,
CAPT. HOPKINS B. CADY,
CAPT. CHRISTOPHER DUCKWORTH.
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
Members who have served on the Executive Committee.
COMPANY A- Capt. William E. Taber, Lieut. Leander C. Belcher, Priv. Caleb C. Greene, Jr., Corp. Eugene F. Phillips, Corp. Albert C. Winsor.
COMPANY B-Corp. Nathan H. Baker, Corp. George T. Baker, Priv. William A. Spicer, Priv. James F. Field.
COMPANY C-Priv. George W. Lewis, Corp. Joseph W. Padel- ford, Priv. Elisha W. Sweet, Priv. Edmund J. Munroe.
COMPANY D-Corp. William H. H. Brayman, Priv. S. Erastus Merchant, Priv. Levi L. Burdon.
COMPANY E-Lieut. Stephen H. Thurber, Sergt. William Stone, Corp. Ira R. Wilbur, Priv. Christopher A. Cady.
COMPANY F-First Sergt. Joel Metcalf.
COMPANY G-First Sergt. John B. Benson, Sergt. Albert J. Manchester, Musician John F. Parks.
COMPANY H-First Sergt. George A. Winchester, Sergt. Charles P. Gay.
COMPANY I-First Sergt. Henry R. Barker, Corp. Oliver S. Alers, Corp. Moses B. Chace, Corp. B. D. Hale.
COMPANY K-Corp. Joseph E. Handy, First Sergt. Munson H. Najac.
COMPANY L, Battery-Sergt. Philip B. Stiness, Priv. A. D. White, Quar .- Sergt. Asa Lyman, First Sergt. Amasa C. Tourtellot.
Staff. COM .- SERGT. JAMES O. SWAN. Secretary and Treasurer.
CORP. BENJAMIN F. PABODIE, SERGT. GEORGE A. WINCHESTER.
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REUNION POEMS.
BY MRS. B. F. PABODIE, Wife of Corp. Benjamin F. Pabodie, Company H.
THE cherry snow had fallen, in the beautiful month of May, The robins sung in the twilight, -on the purple lilac spray, The grass was green in the meadows, in the freshening springtime life, And we followed our peaceful duties, nor thought of the distant strife. When early one sunny morning came a summons to our ears,
" The enemy threatens Washington, and we need more volunteers ! " The quick response from patriot hearts, our annals past will show, Six hundred men, in scarce ten hours, had pledged themselves to go. No time for preparation, scarce time to say farewell, One night at home, with sorrowing friends, how fast the teardrops fell : So thirty hours from the summons, all ready to meet the foe, We started off for Washington, just twenty-six years ago.
How many of us remember the beginning of that campaign,
How we stood on Exchange Place, hours and hours in the midst of the pour- ing rain.
How they crowded us into the depot, and packed us into the cars, But nought could dampen the courage of our valiant " Sons of Mars." As through the long, long night we sailed, we talked of days to come, And jest and jokes went freely round, for we dared not think of home. What lay in the distant future, was hidden from every eye, Suppose we never come back ! What then? We have only once to die. And so we traveled through the night and thro' the wearisome day, With welcomes warm, and cheers and shouts in the cities along our way ; Then through the dust and mud we marched, till the fourth night settled down, As we built our fires, and pitched our tents, on the hills near Tennallytown.
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
Then came the drill, and picket-guard, and the morning bugle call. O, that getting up so early, 'twas the hardest trial of all !
Yet prompt to call we worked and drilled, and at night we took our ease, As we gathered round the evening fires, that lighted up old Camp Frieze. At length we were ordered to Fairfax, how gladly we hurried away,
On that long, hot march to Seminary Hill, for only three days' stay, Not one of us wants to revisit that barren desert again,
Where the grasshoppers carried their rations, when they marched across the plain.
We hoped to have reached the battlefield, for courage there was no lack, But a soldier's duty is " to obey," and the Tenth was ordered back. 'Tis hard no battles to recount, no skirmishes to relate,
But yet we know " they also serve, who only stand and wait." So the old and veteran soldiers went forward to meet the foe,
While we guarded the forts around Washington, just twenty-six years ago.
More work, more drill, more " mounting guard," 'twas tiresome day by day, But looking back, thro' the mist of years, it seems like nothing but play.
'Twas not for our pastime we tarried there, we felt whatever might come, We were simply doing our duty for our country and our home.
Our patriotism no time can dull, nor trials make us forget ;
Should the nation need us again, they'd find life in the old Tenth yet. Alas! my brothers, those hours have flown, and the years have hurried past, And sorrows many have sapped the strength which we thought would always last.
Our youth departed, our manhood fled, old age comes swiftly and sure, There is little left for some of us, but patiently to endure.
The deeds we've done are not perhaps what we planned in our youthful dreams,
" Is life worth living," we sometimes ask, as we mourn o'er our shattered schemes.
Still one oasis in this bleak desert this festival night will show,
When we meet to talk of the pleasant times of twenty-six years ago.
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OLD ARMY DAYS.
BY PROF. W. WHITMAN BAILEY. Corporal Company D.
DEAR fellow vets,
In such familiar phrase,
I now address my comrades of old days ;
Yet as I think by no especial right,
I come before you on this festal night ; For, if you'll pardon what is scarcely meant,
A pun, I served my country by in-tent : Still I remember in a mighty shower
Being " turned out " at some ungodly hour,
To walk before the Colonel's tent, and keep The rebels silent while he went to sleep ;
I often wonder as I think of this, Whether our brave commander slept in Bliss,
For though a high wind blew with tempest's rack And streams of water flowed adown my back I guarded him so well that my relief Forgot me for a while, much to my grief; Perhaps to theirs : I will not here inquire Lest I should stir some long-forgotten fire ; Speaking of fires, what a jolly thing Those camp-fires were when Burdon used to sing ; Do the young soldiers of the present day
" See Nelly home " in that familiar way? Or if they're modern " Titia's," are they still Charmed by the glittering sword of Bunker Hill? In nightly visions of a certain sort I often find myself at this old sport,
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
And if a corporal called " attention " then, I'd come bolt upright as I used to when He'd turn us out at early reveille, And talk quite loudly of our corps d'esprit ; Still plainer yet the captain's voice I hear, Loud calling for some lusty volunteer, To right his tent, or chop the wood, or go To hunt up " System," in the realms below ; De mortuis nisi bonum hope I may, And so about our grub I'll nothing say ; Except that hard-tack, when it's marked B. C., Is even now avoided still by me As is that meat denominated junk, And flung in hogsheads by the salted chunk ; Do I remember Fairfax and the clay, In which we tried to drive our pegs one day ? Do I recall the march by night to town, How cold we were, and how we washed it down By something fluid, I will not say what, Administered by the Colonel from a pot ; On that same night, or else I am a slave, I stretched my full length on a barrel stave ; I wondered then, and even now can't see, How I disposed of all my vertebra ; My lucky comrades, made of sterner stuff,
Had fire, they said, and pies and food enough ; But now I'll order arms, and break my ranks, To all my comrades I return my thanks ; I hope they'll pardon, if they don't agree With a poor private once of Company D !
This brilliant effusion was followed by the ever popular song of " Seeing Nelly Home," by Burdon, of Company D.
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THE TENTH RHODE ISLAND
Poem for the reunion of the Tenth Veteran Association, May 26, 1882.
BY SERGT. A. T. STARKEY, COMPANY D.
GLAD welcome to-night to the comrades assembled,
Glad remembrance of those who in young manhood's strength, Raised aloft their right hands as their country's defenders,
And enlisted their names in the Rhode Island " Tenth." Long years have passed by since we left our loved firesides, At fair Liberty's summons-her cause to defend ;
The friendships we formed in the days of our service Were friendships for life, that shall never know end. It was not given us on fair Liberty's altar To lay down our lives, as our brothers had done ;
Had our country demanded,-not a soul would have faltered, Such was the spirit sublime, our comrades among. How well I recall the events of the journey,
The question our colonel, so gallant and true, Asked De Wolf, who by looks was all of us junior. " My son, you look youthful : how old, boy, are you? " " Twenty-four," says De Wolf. " O, ho!" says the colonel, " You'll do, my brave boy, put your name on the books : I'll enter an item right here in my journal,
You can't always tell a man's age by his looks ! " In the City of Brotherly Love behold our flirtations, The meal at " the Cooper Shop," ample and good : The last ere we entered on Uncle Sam's rations And gave him our time for his clothes and his food.
Then the night march in Baltimore, through the street so historic Where the first brave martyrs to Liberty fell,- The clank of our bayonets meeting the awnings, Our fears and our fancies we remember full well.
Then the strange disappearance of our friends in the darkness : As to right and to left they mysteriously fell
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
Down the dark, open cellar-ways left all unguarded,
Till we all met at the station our adventures to tell. Oh, the first meal at Washington, so rough and forbidding, With great chunks of meat, all gristle and fat ; How they flew through the air in that dining-hall dreary, Then the midnight alarm,-do you e'er think of that? Our camp at Tennallytown, and the daily manœuvres ; The return of Mauran, so triumphal and grand, From his visit at home for his teeth's benefaction ; His queer donkey-chariot and quaint driving-man. " Poor darkness " was arrested for quitting his station Before the white tent of our Colonel so true ;
To procure for himself a nice cold, creamy " ration," Which he'd waited and longed for, who could blame him-could you? The march over the river. So many crossed over Who never returned to glad Liberty's shore. Our camp at old Fairfax-the return-and the journey To the Forts, -- I've dreamt of them over and o'er. Then our pathways divided, and each of our hundreds Lived a separate camp-life, and marched various ways ; At the fort called " De Russy," not far from headquarters, Company D of the Tenth whiled away the long days ; On the silvery banks of the creek near our camp-fires, With the cool water bathing our limbs day by day ; In the blackberry fields just over the river, We reveled at will, as the time wore away.
Till the day came at length when our campaign was ended With discharge from the service we had truly enjoyed, Homeward bound every comrade now joyfully wended, To greet friends and loved ones, our footsteps employed. Twenty years of success, as the world counts success : Twenty years of defeat, as the world counts defeat, Have gladdened or saddened our swift-passing years,
Since the days when as comrades we each other did greet.
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Some have grown great in the eyes of the nation, Some have gone down in the race after wealth ; Some been content with a quiet vocation,
Others been hindered by the loss of their health. Till time with its hours of deep sorrow and pleasure, Rolling steadily on toward eternity's sea, Has brought us at length to this festal reunion : And welcome, thrice welcome, the absent would be. No, all are not here; some have ended life's history,
Crossed o'er the dark river and entered Heaven's gate, And while our paths widen o'er life's fleeting mystery, We shall all at one portal meet early or late.
Then may God keep us all through the rest of life's marching ! May He prosper us all, give to one and all strength :
And may we, dear comrades, in all of our journeyings
Ne'er forget the glad days of " the glorious old Tenth ! "
THE TENTH BOYS.
POEM BY CORP. W. WHITMAN BAILEY, Company D, Tenth Rhode Island Volunteers.
I KNOW the Tenth boys, I am not mistaken, Though heads now are silvered, once auburn or brown ; Though shoulders are bent and knees may be shaken,
Since pitching those " Sibleys " at Ten-ally-town.
'Tis all a delusion to treat them as older, Rheumatics? bronchitis? neuralgia? What then? They march as they once did, aye, shoulder to shoulder, And " get there " precisely like average men.
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
Their notes still are tuneful : just list to the singing, Is Burdon less musical now, than of yore? He'll warble of " Nelly," the famed "Sword of Bunker," And come up still smiling, to meet an encore.
Just happen to mention the Tenth has no glory, In view of yon howitzer, desperately won, Dispute her proud title, the " regiment gory ! " And seek your own quarters, for quarters we've none.
And so I repeat it and know it is truthful, -- These comrades around me, despite what they say, Are slender, erect and perennially youthful : Why! bless me! They mustered this very same May !
THE BOYS OF SIXTY-TWO.
BY SERGT. T. A. STARKEY, COMPANY D.
WRITTEN FOR THE TENTH REGIMENT REUNION, MAY 26, ISS7.
[AIR: "Auld Lang Syne," "The Sword of Bunker Hill."]
WE gather here, this festal night, To clasp each comrade's hand, To flash the beams of memory's light On days dark to our land ; To greet the present,-mourn the lost, To pledge our faith anew To the cause for which we left our homes In eighteen sixty-two. .
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Long years have passed since first we met And we've grown old and gray, And widely scattered are the boys, And some have passed away. But thro' the years, where'er we've roamed Whatever we've found to do, We've held in loving memory strong Those hours of sixty-two.
And could our days exceed in length The prophet's days of old, The golden tale of those bright days To us will ne'er grow old. The hours we passed on Southern soil With comrades tried and true, Are treasured deep within the hearts Of the boys of sixty-two.
So, comrades, through the coming years, While life and strength endure, We'll gather here with hearty cheer And friendship strong and pure. And on each glad Memorial Day, Our comradeship renew ;
That comradeship which made us one In eighteen sixty-two.
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
A CAMP-FIRE.
BY CORP. W. WHITMAN BAILEY, COMPANY D.
OUR watchfire burns, The soldier turns To meet the friend of long ago ; The moments fly, The years haste by, But dearer doth each comrade grow.
We con once more Our marches o'er,
We sing the songs we loved of old ; We grasp the hand, Our hearts expand, And closer to each friend we hold.
Can we forget? Ah no! Not yet !
Despite our heads in rebel gray ; The fact is true, We wore the blue, And started hence the other day.
If comrades fell, To them " farewell ! "
And o'er them votive offerings place ; Recall the while Each hero's smile, And cherish his familiar face.
Remember, boys, Beside the joys,
That duty calls us hence once more ; Our motto scan ! Let every man Be " ready, willing," as of yore !
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LOYAL EVER.
BY CORP. W. WHITMAN BAILEY, COMPANY D.
TENTH REGIMENT REUNION, MAY 26, 1891.
Boys, though our hair be gray, Yet shall this month of May,
Ever recall the day- Long, long ago,
When at our country's call,
Left we the college hall,
Business or trade, and all Marched on the foe.
Nor can we e'er forget,
How, though their cheeks were wet,
Maid, wife, or mother met- Sacred each name! Though we might ne'er come back,
Better the battles' wrack,
Storm-blast and tempest's track, Honor than shame !
So then, with loyal pride, Stood we, boys, side by side, Comrades all, true and tried, So still we stand, Gather we round about, Fling wide " old glory " out, Hail it with song and shout, God bless our land !
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
AFTER DECORATION.
BY CORP. W. WHITMAN BAILEY, COMPANY D.
OUT in the pitying rain, Leave we our dead again, The gallant ranks of those Who sleep beneath the rose.
Here where our children tread, Lie the heroic dead, For them nor shield nor name ; Their's is their country's fame,
Let every eye behold Our starry banner's fold. The dead did dare maintain, It's glory without stain.
All that they had they gave- Their victory, the grave, For them 'tis mete to bring, These garlands of the spring.
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Our national poetry and song have been the offspring of mighty struggles and glorious achievements. These stirring melodies, every line bristling with patriotic devotion to home and country did much in preserving our National Unity.
In September, 1862, one of the darkest periods of the war for the Union, as the shadows of night fell upon the gory field of Antietam, but sixty miles away from our old camp at Fort Penn- sylvania, a sick and wounded soldier in one of the hospitals, in a clear and strong voice, sung this song of victory at midnight :
" Our flag is there! Our flag is there ! We hail it with three loud huzzas ! Our flag is there ! Our flag is there ! Behold the glorious ' Stripes and Stars!' Brave hearts have fought for that bright flag ; Strong hands sustained it, mast-head high, And, O, to see how proud it waves, Bring tears of joy to every eye !"
On the memorable 14th of April, 1865, just after the final sur- render to Grant at Appomattox, and the fourth anniversary of the fall of Fort Sumter, by order of President Lincoln, the same old flag, lowered by rebellious hands in 1861, was raised again over the ruins of the fort. It was the writer's good fortune to participate in the ceremonies at Fort Sumter, and to be on the steamer which carried the news of the surrender of Lee, to the city of Charleston.
Arrived within hailing distance, we gave each ship, gunboat, and monitor, the good news, as we passed, upon which a scene of of the wildest enthusiasm followed, which quickly spread through- out the entire blockading squadron.
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
The sailor boys in blue crowded to the bulwarks, and, mounting aloft, manned the yards, climbing even to the main-tops, and, turning, swung their caps, and rent the air with their shouts.
" Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! Lee has surrendered ! Lee has surrendered ! How welcome the tidings after the long struggle ! 'Sweet after danger's the close of the war ?'"
On the morrow, as we descended to the interior of Fort Sum- ter, we passed from the wall-steps to the platform near the new flag-staff, through a double file of navy boys in trimmest holiday attire. Here was assembled the great audience of five thousand soldiers, sailors and citizens, and we joined them in the stirring song of "Victory at Last," composed for the great occasion :
For many years we've waited to hail the day of peace, When our land should be united, and war and strife should cease ; And now that day approaches, the drums are beating fast, And all the boys are coming home; there's victory at last !
The heroes who have gained it and lived to see the day, We will greet with flying banners and honors on the way; And all their sad privations shall to the winds be cast, For all the boys are coming home : there's victory at last !
O happy wives and children ! light up your hearts and homes ; For see, with martial music " the conquering hero comes." With flags and streamers flying, while drums are beating fast ; For all the boys are coming home: there's victory at last !
Chorus :
There's victory at last, boys, victory at last! O'er land and sea, our flag is free, we'll nail it to the mast ; Yes, we'll nail it to the mast, boys, nail it to the mast, For there's victory, victory, victory at last !
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Gen. Robert Anderson, the hero of Sumter, then stepped forward and said: "I thank God that I have lived to see this day, and after four long years of war to be here to restore to its proper place this dear flag, which floated here during the days of peace. My heart is Gen. Robert Anderson. filled with gratitude to God, who has so signally blessed us, who has given us blessings beyond measure. May all the nations bless and praise the world proclaim, 'Glory on earth peace, good name of the Lord and all the to God in the highest, and
The Ruins of Fort Sumter in 1865.
will toward men !'" "Amen ! Amen !" responded the vast mul- titude. Then the old veteran firmly grasped the halyards, and
" Forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled The starry banner, which full high advanced, Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind."
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VETERAN ASSOCIATION.
Thirty years have passed since that eventful day, and the pre- cious remains of Robert Anderson, the hero of Fort Sumter, repose in the National Cemetery at West Point, but his noble character, and devoted service to his country, can never be for- gotten.
From the smoke of Sumter day quickly arose the Sumter Club, whose anniversary it celebrates with "feast of reason, and flow of loyal soul." Among its treasures is the Confederate flag of Fort Moultrie, but nothing is so highly prized by the writer as the following note from the widow of General Anderson, in acknowledgment of a little pamphlet printed by the writer, en- titled " The Flag Replaced on Sumter" :
NEW YORK HOTEL, N. Y.,
December, 11, ISS5.
MR. WILLIAM. A. SPICER, Providence, R. I.,
Rhode Island Vice-President Sumter Club.
DEAR SIR: Accept my thanks for your very kind letter and for your pam- phlet which accompanied it, "The Flag Replaced on Sumter," both of which were forwarded to me from Green Cove Springs.
I often weep bitter tears that my dear husband and his services to his country at the moment of her greatest peril, seem so clean forgotten throughout the land; but now and then I am cheered by kind and pleasant words like yours, and I take heart again and my faith in God's promises and in my countrymen is renewed and strengthened. Be assured, my dear sir, that the effort of one of the youngest members of the Sumter Club to perpetuate General Anderson's "worthy name and fame" is fully appreciated and most highly prized by his widow and the mother of his children.
Yours very sincerely,
E. B. ANDERSON.
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ROSTER.
THE NINTH AND TENTH RHODE ISLAND REGIMENTS AND TENTH RHODE ISLAND BATTERY, present the usual entertaining variety in their ranks, as to age, position, and occupation. The average age of enlistment, it is safe to say, was under twenty. Many of the recruits gave their ages more than they actually were, fearing that they would be rejected were the correct ages known. The author knows personally of several of his comrades who reported as eighteen who were barely sixteen. Every effort has been made to make the " Roster" as correct as possible.
ROSTER
OF THE
Ninth Rhode Island Volunteers.
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FIELD AND STAFF.
Colonel.
JOHN TALBOT PITMAN.
Captain, First Rhode Island Detached Militia, May 6, 1861 ; mustered out Aug. 2, 1861 ; major, Ninth Rhode Island In- fantry, May 26, 1862; lieutenant-colonel, June 9, 1862 ; colonel, July 3, 1862 ; mustered out, Sept. 2, 1862; lieuten- ant-colonel, Eleventh Rhode Island Infantry, Oct. 1, 1862; mustered out, July 13, 1863.
Lieutenant-Colonels.
JOHN T. PITMAN. (Sce Colonel.)
JOHN HARE POWEL.
May 26, 1862, mustered in ; originally served as captain Co. L; June 9, 1862, promoted to major; July 3, 1862, promoted lieutenant-colonel ; Sept. 2, 1862, mustered out.
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