When we arrived at Harrison's Landing there were about enough that kept up to make a Corporal's guard. A great many fell out by the roadside and never rose again.

Arrived at the Landing, we try to cook our favorite beverage, coffee, but the rain would put the fire out as fast as we could build it. At last we hold our old clothes over the fire, and think we are going to have our coffee sure, when we hear a tremenduous cheering up the road, and coffee is soon forgotten. Running out to see what is up, a horseman is seen riding along the road followed by two cavalrymen. We see that it is our gallant Little Mac., the hats and caps commence to fly in the air, and men cheer as though they were crazy. The General, commanding his own army of the Potomac, acknowledges with graceful waves of the hand, assures us we are all right now, and passes on, leaving us to go back and attend to our coffee, which we find tipped over in the smouldering chips. Again dipping some water out of the ditch and rebuilding the fire, we cook and drink our coffee, eat our hard-tack, smoke our pipes, and feel happy, but not very long, for the enemy open up their long range guns at us, and send some shells among the masses of soldiers in the fields. We hear some cheering in the direction of the Landing, and soon find out the cause. It is a fresh Division from the Shenandoah Valley under the immortal Shields. They pass by us on a quick march and keep on to the front. They walk around our tormentors, capture their artillery and all the force that supported them, bringing them back in triumph amidst the cheers of the old army of the Potomac, thus ending the seven days' fight on the Peninsula.

I will say here that the soldiers in the army of the Poto

mac loved their brave commander with such a love that a Napoleon would envy, for every one feels confident that no other man living could take the army out of such an ordeal as occurred on the last seven days. Fight every day, and march every night, whipping the enemy in almost every battle, and that, too, against heavy odds. No good soldier ever fought under the gallant General Geerge B. McClellan but will always recollect him with the greatest pride, and sympathize with him in the hours of his affliction.

CHAPTER XVI.

WE GO INTO CAMP-FOURTH OF JULY, 1862—BATALLION DRILL, ETC-CAMP LIFE-ORDERS TO MARCH—

DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT.

On the Fourth of July, 1862, we go into camp and make ourselves as comfortable as we can. We have a good base of supplies. The army is encamped upon the banks of the James River, and we get supplies by that way. Our sutlers return, and everything goes well. Camp life here is very hard, the weather being very hot, and we drill a great deal. In the morning at 5 o'clock we are awakened by the reveille; get up and answer the roll-call; then form for squad drill; then breakfast, after which is company drill; come in and rest for awhile, and then the whole regiment. goes out for batallion drill; next dinner; next brigade drill; next division drill, and we all think if the fields were only large enough, we would have a corps and army drill.

One year ago to-day we celebrated our Fourth of July in Washington. What hardships we have endured in the

one single year just gone by! Then we felt jubilant and confident, but to-day we feel depressed in spirits after our late disastrous campaigns. Oh, whoever are to blame for the sacrifice of our brave commander and his glorious old army, may the curse of thousands of widows and orphans fall on their heads. For the war is prolonged now to an indefinite time, in which there will be thousands of lives sacrificed to satisfy the appetites of wicked and designing men.

Here we have the same routine of camp life as in all other camps-guard mount, guard duty, picket duty, and fatigue duty. Hundreds are getting sick every day, and if we stay here in this hot hole much longer there will not be much of the army left fit for service.

Our drilling is very hard, and we would much rather be excused from so much of it, at least. There are rumors that Lee's army is getting off to destroy Pope's army in the valley and unless the army of the Potomac go to his rescue, his will be destroyed. So the sutlers are ordered to the rear and the sick are sent on transports to Washington.

I must mention in these pages Anna Etheridge, the heroine and daughter of our regiment. The world never produced but very few such women, for she is along with us through storm and sunshine, in the heat of the battle caring for the wounded, and in the camp looking after the poor sick soldier, and to have a smile and a cheering word for every one who comes in her way. Every soldier is alike to her. She is with us to administer to all our little wants, which are not few. To praise her would not be enough, but suffice to say, that as long as one of the old Third shall live, she will always be held in the greatest

esteem, and remembered with kindly feelings for her goodness and virtues.

Orders come to pack up and be ready to march at a moments notice, which we do, and are glad to go anywhere out of our hot and dirty camp.

CHAPTER XVII.

OUR BACKWARD

MOVE-FAMILIAR GROUND-A HOT AND

DUSTY MARCH-BACK TO WILLIAMSBURG AND
YORKTOWN-ARRIVAL AT WASH-

INGTON AGAIN.

About the first of August we commence our backward march on the Peninsula. The marching is very disagreeable on account of the severely warm weather and dusty roads. Water is very scarce along the route, and there is much suffering from the want of it. When we camp nights, if there are any nice springs around, there is soon a guard put over them, and, of course, it is reserved for the officers. Like a certain tree at the battle of Fair Oaks. In the heat of battle a certain officer, well known to us all, took a position behind a huge pine. A couple of soldiers thought they would like to take shelter there too. But the gallant Captain drew his sword and told them to be gone, for this tree is reserved for the officers, and none others. Of course, the poor soldiers give way, for they dare not disobey the order of an officer, even if he was a coward, for he would be court martialed, his pay stopped, be made to march in camp with a stick on his shoulder, or be bucked and gagged and forty pails of water thrown on his

head, or, if he did not like all this, by way of a change, be tied up by the thumbs to the limb of a tree. Oh, yes, all the good things are reserved for the officers, and the poor soldier has to roam over the fields and hunt some cow track for some water to cook his coffee. But we have one consolation. The soldier is here to save this country, and suffer for it, while such cowardly officers as the one at Fair Oaks are here for pay. I will say here, that I thank God that such officers are scarce in our army, and we have some as humane and as good men as live-but the bad ones have influence, and the good ones cannot do much against them. For if they say anything against the illtreatment of soldiers, they are spotted by the men that work for pay and shoulder straps, are intrigued against, and probably for some slight misdemeanor get a dishonorable discharge from the service.

I will relate an incident that happened to myself on this hot and thirsty march. There was not a drop of water with any of us, and with three canteens beside my own I started off in quest of some. Seeing a house not far off, hither I went, finding many there ahead of me, getting the precious liquid out of a very deep well. I cannot describe my feelings as I drew near the water, for my lips. were parched with thirst. While in the act of drawing ∙some, a man pulled up on horseback, and, I am ashamed to say, wore the dress of an officer. Said he, "Get away from here," at the same time drawing his cowardly sword. I told him I must have some water as the boys in the ranks besides myself were nearly choked with thirst. "Get back, I say, or I will run you through with my sword," said he, coming close to me. At that time I did not care much whether I lived or not, but I was maddened almost