Their drum corps was a good one, too, but of course the boys of the Second New York thought they were a little better than the Bay State fellows, consequently quite a little rivalry existed between the organizations, and when the regiments were out for a review or brigade drill the stalwart drummers from down East would always try to drown out the lads of the Second Heavy. They were all full grown men while our drum corps was made up of boys all under eighteen years of age. Their music was always of the “When the Springtime Comes, Gentle Annie,” and “Chunks of Pudding and Pieces of Pie,” style, played in 6-8 time, just suited to the stalwart men in their ranks; while ours was more of the “Rory O’More,” “Garry Owen” and “Get-out-of-the-way-Old-Dan-Tucker” sort, which we played 2-4 time, better adapted to the quick-stepping New Yorkers behind us. We had some dandy uniforms, too, and I know we were a trim-looking lot in our close-fitting jackets with plenty of brass buttons and red trimmings, and “McClellan caps” setting saucily on the side of our heads. Harry Marshall, our drum major, was one of the handsomest young fellows that ever led a drum corps down the line on dress parade; and was as good and pure as handsome. He handled his baton with a skill and grace of manner that would have captivated all the pretty girls of a town if we could have marched through its principal street. And when it came to beating a drum he was what the small boys of today would call a “corker.” Harry was a dandy and no mistake, and when we led the Second Heavy in a review we knew that we were doing it about right. One day when we were at Arlington the general commanding the brigade ordered the troops out for brigade drill, review, etc. His family and some friends were visiting him and he wished to show the men off to his guests. We went through various brigade evolutions, followed by exhibitions in skirmish drill by detachments from the regiments. The officer who commanded the detachment from the Second New York was Captain Barry, a beau ideal of a soldier, who met his death at Petersburg later in the war. (By the way, I never saw Col. James R. Miller out with old “C” company but what I was reminded of Capt. Barry, both in his looks and soldierly bearing.) Capt. Barry had the skirmish business down fine and he took Harry Marshall with his drum, and walked out in front of the general and put his men through the various movements for half an hour or more and his commands were not heard only by our drum major, who tapped them out on his drum. It captivated the general and his guests and when the squad returned to their place with the regiment the ladies in the general’s party clapped their hands and waved their handkerchiefs. The closing event of the day was the marching in review of the different regiments, and again our boys received a recognition from the reviewing party that must have made the Massachusetts men’s eyes green with envy.