The first camp was at Shuter's Hill, near Alexandria.
"Now we are in for it," said Tom Somers, when the mess gathered in their tent after the camp was formed.

"I hope we shall not remain here long." "Don't be in a hurry, my brave boy," said old Hapgood.

"We may stop here a month." "I hope not." "Don't hope anything about it, Tom.

Take things as they come." But the impatience of the soldier boy was soon relieved; for at daylight on the morning of the 16th of July, the regiment was routed out, the tents were struck, and at nine o'clock they took up the line of march to the southward.

It was "on to Richmond," in earnest, now, and merrily marched the men, who little knew what trials and sufferings, what scenes of blood and death, lay in their path.
The little colonel's command had been put in Franklin's brigade, which formed a part of Heintzelman's division; but little did Tom or his fellow-soldiers know of anything but their own regiment.