About the first of April we leave our floating camps and get on the sacred soil once more at Fortress Monroe. Passing by the largest fort in the country, we march by some contraband negroes that are encamped around, and pass through the once beautiful village of Hampton, now nothing but a mass of ruins, caused by the rebels themselves, who burnt the place on leaving it, thus cutting off their own noses to spite their faces. A short distance beyond we bivouac for a few days to get ready for our campaigns on the Peninsula.

CHAPTER XI.

ON TO RICHMOND---SIEGE OF YORKTOWN---BUILDING FORTS AND REDOUBTS---PICKETING---ARTILLERY DUEL---A FOOTLESS PAGE---OUR

PHOTOGRAPHER---A BIG SHELL---BAL

LOONS---EVACUATION OF YORKTOWN.

About the 7th of April we commenced our march on the road to Richmond, via Yorktown and Williamsburg. We pass by Big Bethel, where Ben Butler tried to make a breach through to Richmond, for a few spoons, but failed. Soon we are before Yorktown. Since it would cost a great sacrifice of life to storm the works, we settle down to dig the rebels out. In a short time breast-works are thrown up, and large forts, filled with cannon, spring up as if by magic. As we picket but a short distance from the rebels, frequent skirmishing occurs. In an army of this size, and under fire nearly all the time, some one must necessarily get killed or wounded every day. One morning, while on picket, a battery pulls up on the line and opens out from the same post I am on. They fire on some rebels who are in plain sight, building forts. The way they get down and hug mother earth is astonishing to us, for not one is seen in a moment. After awhile the laugh is turned on ourselves, for they open on us with their great guns, and we rather get down too. An artillery duel commences and lasts nearly an hour, when we hear a shout to the left and front of our post. Pretty soon a man is borne to the rear, and we find that Fernando Page, of Co. K, has both feet shot off by a premature discharge of one of our own guns. As he passes our post we observe that both feet hang only by

pieces of flesh. Poor fellow, his soldiering is done. The enemies guns are silenced and the battery is taken to the rear. We are relieved, and return to camp.

In the afternoon, while busy cleaning our guns, a thundering noise is heard. Looking in the direction of the sound, a monster shell is observed approaching. We all drop a courtesy, a la Japanese, by getting on our knees. It passes over and thuds into the ground behind the photographic tent of Fred H-, who runs out, white as a sheet, to learn the cause of the noise, and observes behind his tent, a hole large enough to bury a mule in, caused by the shell. He immediately packed up his pictures, vamoosed the camp, and it is said, never stopped until he was safe in his own valley city, in Michigan, nor did he take any more pictures on the sacred soil.

Near by our camp there is a saw-mill in full operation, and lumber is sawed to floor our hospitals, which makes it very comfortable for the sick.

Not the least institution in the army is the balloon of Prof. Lowe. It is a huge affair, and can be seen every day up in the air taking observations of the enemies' works and positions, which proves a great help to the General commanding.

It is rumored that the siege is at an end, and all are getting ready to open up on the enemies' lines, and make breaches in their works; but we are spared the trouble, for our pickets, about the first of May, find that they have evacuated their works. The pickets commence cheering, and soon it is taken up by thousands in the vast army over our bloodless victory. The bands strike up the tune, "Ain't I Glad to Get Out of the Wilderness," a very appropriate piece, as we had been in the wilderness long

enough, and it is the first music we have had since we arrived before Yorktown, there being no music allowed during the siege, which lasted about three weeks.

CHAPTER XII.

FOLLOWING UP THE ENEMY-TORPEDOES-BATTLE OF WILLIAMSBURG-THE FIFTH MICHIGAN INFANTRY MAKES A GALLANT FIGHT, ETC.

Striking our tents and packing our knapsacks, we soon file out of our late camps and follow up the retreating army. Getting inside the late rebel works, we are cautioned to keep in our places, for the enemy have put torpedoes in the ground for the purpose of blowing up the Yankees, but they do not accomplish their hellish plot, for some of their own men, taken prisoners, are set to digging them out. Passing through some miserable country, we pull up in some fields to camp for the night. Early on the fifth of May it begins to rain, and heavy cannonading is heard not far off. Our advance have struck the enemy, and are forcing a fight.

Our brigade fall in under the gallant son of Maine, General Berry, and forward on the double-quick for the scene of action. General Hancock is engaged with his brigade, and is fighting bravely against heavy odds-but we soon take a load off his shoulders, and the gallant "Fighting Fifth" is in the midst of the battle, and is getting cut up fearfully; but the brave men keep their ground against heavy odds. The Thirty Seventh New York go into the

fight with a wild cheer, and drive the rebels at the point of the bayonet. The firing along the line is terrific. A body of rebels are seen moving to our left and our regiment is sent to oppose them. Drawing up in line in an open field, we wait for the expected charge. They emerge from the woods beyond, and every man is ready to give them a warm reception. Ready, is the order given by our noble Colonel Champlin, and each man brings his piece where he can handle himself. But we have no occasion to use them, for the rebels get back into the woods again. Meantime the battle rages on our right. At 5 o'clock we hear a loud cheer, and General Hancock and his brigade charge and take the principal fort of the enemy, Fort McGruder. This has been a fearful battle on account of the close proximity of the opposing armies. Never did a regiment make a better fight during the war than the gallant "Fighting Fifth," a name they worthily earned on this bloody field. They charged against fearful odds and took some breastworks from the enemy, and seven or eight times stood their ground against the enemy, who tried to dislodge them, and more than half of their men and officers were either killed or wounded. Lieutenant-Colonel Beach received a severe wound and had to be borne from the field. The regiment, too, feel proud of their old pussy, Colonel Terry, for he proved himself a brave officer. The Thirty-Seventh New York, a gallant Irish regiment, under the command of Colonel Haymon, also showed their mettle, and proved themselves worthy of the old Red Diamond Division under the indomitable one armed General Kearney. So with the Second Michigan, under Colonel Poe, a regular officer, who took command after the promotion of Colonel Richardson, now a general commanding a division. The night after