As we pass by the principal places of note crowds gather through curiosity to see the great elephant pass-the Army of the Potomac. They gaze with eyes wide open to see that so many of the Northern mudsills still live after wiping out all ideas of a Southern Confederacy. And now we enter the late Capitol, but not in the way that the Rebel chief assured the inhabitants we would, on a certain occasion mentioned in these pages. We pass by the Capitol where were foul, treasonable utterances for over four years, and which was the cradle of all the leading spirits in the late fizzle. Next we pass Libby Prison and the old tobacco warehouse. Oh, could those old gloomy walls speak, they could tell of such miseries of poor human beings, not to speak of the poor unfortunate prisoners that fate threw in the way of such inhuman fiends. The treatment our poor fellows received in these Southern hells would put to blush the most savage barbarians in the wilds of Africa. But let this pass, for all will have to give an account of themselves and their doings to a more just judge who will mete out to every one according to his just deserts. We expect justice done to the villains that caused such misery in those prison hells. And now we will leave them, expecting that their time will come. So we march through with flags flying and bands playing, and come to a halt three or four miles beyond and camp for the night. Sunday morning dawns and all are up making preperations for an early start. The morning is beautiful and every man feels as happy as can well be expected, and are pleased that we are drawing nearer to our destination, which is Washington. We pass by old battle grounds, through the village of Hanover Court House and camp for the night on the north bank of the Pamunkey river, after a nice day's march. Here we draw rations-hard-tack, salt pork, coffee and sugar-for we are not through with our old rations yet. Our coffee tastes as well as ever, and now we have plenty of time to cook and drink it. The times have changed, too, in some other respects, for we are very saving of fence rails. We try and leave the poor people what little they have left, and favor them all we can. CHAPTER LVI. OUR MARCH RESUMED-A BLUE MONDAY-GO OUT OF OUR On Monday morning, the 8th of May, we resume our march and after going ten or fifteen miles, are lost in the wilderness of Old Virginia. As we are not in a very great hurry, we camp for the night. The day has turned out to be a blue Monday, but the next morning we get out of the wilderness and on the right road that leads to Washington. Crossing the Ny river we camp once more about twelve miles from Fredericksburg, and an easy march will bring us to that place. On the 10th we resume our weary pilgrimage and while marching by Mesopotamia Church are met by a wonder of wonders in the shape of some ladies who actually are waving their handkerchiefs at us and singing patriotic songs, the first treatment of the kind we met with in Old Virginia. No wonder we are struck with amazement at the sight, and we all cheer them as we go by. We are shaking off the sacred soil from our government pontoons as fast as we can, and a few days more will end our most weary marches. Tramp, tramp, tramp, we go, and pull up at the bloody city of Fredericksburg. Around here we feel quite at home, for we see old familiar places. We roam over the heights where so many brave men fell trying to dislodge the enemy from them. The old battle ground looks dreary and desolate. Here and there can be seen skulls and bones protruding above the ground, while around are seen the evidences of a fiercely contested battle. Old pieces of muskets and cannon are strewn about. Places and positions held by the different corps and divisions are pointed out by those who think they know. But we find that time has changed the looks of the battle ground to a great extent. Brush and wild shrubbery have grown all around and everything now about the battle ground of December 13th, 1862, looks sad and still. Peaceful be thy rest, oh, fallen comrades. We leave thee in sorrow and get back to our camp to prepare our frugal meal, and rest from the fatigues of the day. It has been raining for a few days, making the roads very muddy and difficult for artillery trains and ambulances to cross over them. On the 11th we had to build roads so as to move over our trains, but are still pushing our way for Washington. We have changed now the cry from "On to Richmond," to "Back to Washington." We halt for the night after a sixteen miles' hard march. On the 12th we have a nice day but it is very muddy and the sacred soil seems loth to leave our army shoes. But we try to shake it off and get through fifteen miles more of muddy roads and encamp again. On the 13th we resume our march and pass through swamps and creeks, cross the Orange and Alexandria railroad at Burk's Station and pull up near Annonsdale and again go into camp where we remain over Sunday, the 14th, and have religious services. Our good Dominie thanks the Lord for bringing us like the children of Israel over the Red Sea, safe and sound, under the protecting wing of the American Eagle at Washington. On Monday, the 15th, we brake camp, and after an easy march pull up about six miles from Washington and go into camp. This ends our weary marching in Dixie. CHAPTER LVII. CAPTURE OF JEFF DAVIS-CAMP LIFE AGAIN-VISITING OUR FRIENDS-GAY TIMES-TROOPS GOING HOME-WHAT WILL THE SOLDIERS DO WHEN THEY GET HOME? -BEAUTIFUL ILLUMINATIONS-THE GRAND REVIEW. While in camp we receive news of the capture of the defunct President of the late Southern Confederacy. He was captured disguised as a woman. His number twelves caused his capture, for while crossing a fence his pursuers saw such large feet on that woman, they guessed right away that it must be Jeff, and told him to surrender, which he did, with very poor grace. It was a shame to the sex he tried to impersonate, for to have such a great big homely fellow try to palm himself off for one of the tender sex. An exact painting of him at the time of his capture must be a great curiosity, and it was too bad that a special artist from Frank Leslie's establishment was not on the spot. We have now the same routine of camp life as of yore, but picket and fatigue duties are abolished, as there is no more need for them now, the soldier's heavy work is done. We try to pass away the time by visiting our friends, and seeing the sights in Washington and Alexandria. We are having gay times and feel happy. There are a great many troops going home, and other regiments go to see them off and bid them good-bye. Now that the soldiers are going home a great many ask, what they will do when they get home? I will try and answer. Always take notice in your own vicinity, that when an old soldier settles down, is industrious, keeps sober and makes a good citizen, almost invariably put him down as a good soldier in the field. But let all good people deal lightly with a soldier's faults, for they have been through the mill for the past four years, and will be always glad to see their old comrades and talk over their campaigns and battles, and for a while after they get home very few will blame them for having their time out. The scenes in camp every night are beautiful. Thousands of candles and lamps are seen as far as the eye can reach. Dancing and music is the order of the night, and every man enjoys the sports that is going on all around. Sherman's army has joined our own, and there is talk of one more great review of the whole army-infantry, cavalry and artillery. The order comes to get ready for our last review. On the 23d of May our army takes up its line of march and cross the Long Bridge. Our corps takes a position on Capitol Hill, stack arms, and wait for the whole army to get into position. Great preparations have been made in the city for this, the grandest pageant that ever took place in modern times. Standing room, in a prominent place, where can be seen the army as it passes, is rented at fabulous prices, and the city is one vast sea of hu |