CHAPTER III.
THE CAMPAIGN OF 1865.

Never, since the first gun was fired at Sumter, had the prospects of the Union cause appeared to be so nearly approximating a triumphant result, as at the commencement of the year 1865. While the rebels were daily, and almost hourly, losing all hope and confidence of success, while, one after another, their avenues of supplies and munitions of war were being closed to them, while their men, losing all faith in the promises of their leaders, were deserting daily by hundreds, and while their legislative assemblies were becoming disorderly, and disorganized meetings where personal abuse and mutual recriminations had long since taken the place of orderly and proper debate,—even the most faint-hearted of those who had the interests of the nation at heart, had begun to take courage, and to see the dawn of a brighter day at length approaching. Sherman had made his triumphant "march to the sea;" Fort Fisher had been captured and the Cape Fear River, one of the principal blockade running ports, had thus been effectually closed; Charleston was soon to fall and Sumter once more bore the old flag aloft.

The rebel press, though arrogant and blatant to the last, in its gross perversion of facts and its earnest endeavors to convert any disaster to the Union arms, however trifling, into a great Confederate victory, gave evident tokens, of a conviction, gradually growing in force and spreading far and wide through the South, that the frustration of their schemes was at hand, that secession was a failure and its days numbered. The Richmond Whig, Petersburg Express, and various other papers, tools of the rebel government, in a series of articles, plausibly and cleverly written and well calculated to deceive the unlettered masses of the South, claimed for the South a better condition, than they had known since the commencement of the war. Their army was reported by them to be well fed, clothed and sheltered, the spirits and courage of the men to be excellent and a certain and sure triumph of the Confederate cause, was prophecied as about to be the result of the commencement of hostilities, in which Lee would take the initiative in the spring.

On our side of the lines in front of Petersburg, however, a contrary impression prevailed, and as the winter wore away, even the most despondent began to cheer up as the hollowness of the Confederacy became apparent, the most obtuse could see that the beginning of the end was approaching, and all were looking forward to a speedy crushing out and final extinction of the last spark of rebellion.

Throughout the whole of the long dreary winter, night after night, shivering and half famished, miserably clothed, worse fed, and wretchedly armed, the rebel pickets had deserted their posts and came into our lines, all telling the same tale of suffering, deprivation and disaffection. Sometimes singly, sometimes in squads of three or four, or even greater numbers, they preferred running their chances of being shot, by our men or their own, to lingering on, suffering from cold and hunger, with an equal chance of being eventually either shot or hung. The Army of the Potomac, on the other hand, which had been comfortably hutted and furnished with the best of food and clothing, through the winter, had received a large accession to its numbers, both in recruits and also in convalescents from the different hospitals; our leisure hours had been passed in resting from the severe campaign of the preceding year, with drilling enough to give us exercise, keep us in health, and to render us more efficient as soldiers. The numerous desertions from the rebels and the many successive Union victories had instilled confidence in the minds of our men, just in proportion as it had dispirited and demoralized the rebels, all felt sure of victory, and that the end was at hand.

The commencement of the year found the 37th in winter quarters on the Baxter road, just in front of their old battle field of the 17th of June, and in rear of Fort Morton. Considerable addition had been made to our numbers during the winter; a large majority had had an opportunity of visiting their homes and friends; our casualties had been few and the health and spirits of the entire regiment were excellent. With increasing satisfaction, as each day's mail brought tidings of further Union successes, we watched the net closing tighter and closer around rebeldom and began to look forward toward the prospect of a speedy return to our homes.

As the severer rigors of winter passed off, and the mild, warm days of an early spring began to awaken the vegetable world from its long sleep, the enemy, who had for some months, been remarkably quiet and civil, commenced annoying us by assailing us with mortar and Parrott shells whenever we attempted to indulge in a brigade drill or dress parade. These exhibitions of animosity, however, beyond driving a few timid natures to the doubtful security of pine trees and stumps, soon ceased to create much excitement and served mainly as an excellent preparation to accustom the ears of our new recruits to the sound of these missiles. Nobody ever got hurt by them, and nobody cared much for them. In the month of March we were visited by several severe tornadoes which threw down a number of the trees, among which our camp was built, and, on one occasion, killed one man, Corporal Kenneday of company F.

And so the time wore on, till at length an order came "one fine day" for all Sutlers to go to the base at City Point, for officers and men to turn in all their superfluous winter clothing, and for all arms and ammunition to be thoroughly inspected. The Army of the Potomac was stripping for the fight. Again a few days and rumors, undefined and indistinct at first, but gaining plausibility as time passed on, began to circulate through our camps that "Sheridan had come." And sure enough, one fine summer-like spring morning, three or four wild, rough-looking individuals mounted on lean, but tough wiry animals, rode into our camp, clothed in Confederate uniform, and on being seized and questioned, declared themselves, not without a certain pride in so doing, to be "scouts in the service of General Sheridan." In confirmation, they pointed to a long line of dust, in rear of our camp, where, with the aid of our field glasses, we could dimly discern a large column of cavalry filing slowly along towards the left, in full view of the enemy and within range of his guns, proudly, defiantly, as if the mere fact of their being Sheridan's men, were a safeguard in itself.

This looked like business, and we prepared ourselves accordingly, remaining for the next three weeks in a continued state of excitement and expectation. On one occasion we thought the fun had commenced, a succession of loud cheers, or rather yells, accompanied by rapid and continued firing from the picket line on our left, leading us to suppose that Gen. Lee had opened the ball by taking the initiative himself, and was about to try the strength of our position. We were quickly under arms, and drawn up in line of battle, in the rear of Fort Morton, ready to move, wherever fate and the commanding general might choose to send us. Having waited there for an hour or two, and the disturbance, which turned out to be nothing more than a mere picket emeute, having gradually quieted down, we were permitted to return in peace to our camp.

But more stirring scenes in the drama were at hand, time was rolling along, and the 25th of March and 2d of April were approaching. The rebellion, which the most sanguine of us never expected to end before July, was even then tottering to its fall, and a few weeks more were to see its final overthrow.

Ever since the nocturnal picket skirmish, I have mentioned above, the general commanding the division had impressed on us the necessity of exercising an extra amount of vigilance and caution; trench guards were doubled, the constant supervision of the picket line and reports as to the vigilance and efficiency of officers and men on duty there, were rendered an imperative part of the duties of the brigade officer of the day; brigade and regimental commanders exercised, in most cases, a sleepless and cat-like supervision of everything that occurred within the rebel lines, within their scope of observation; the signal man on the Avery House waved his flags and lanterns, frantically, day and night; our days were spent with field glasses and telescopes stuck to our eyes as if they grew there, and our night's rest was broken by orders sent round three or four times a night exacting the observance of the greatest vigilance or demanding information as to the movements of the enemy.

Our position became like that of "Sister Ann" in Bluebeard's tower and the part of Fatima, was, as the play bills say, "ably sustained" by our commanding generals, in their perpetual demands, as to whether "We saw anybody coming?"

On the morning of the 25th of March we were aroused from such restless sleep as we were in the habit of taking in those days, by the sound of three shots fired in rapid succession from the rebel lines, and quickly followed by a scattering fire of musketry. A very few minutes sufficed for the donning of arms and accoutrements, and in less time than it takes to read this page, we were under arms and awaiting orders.

Meantime the batteries on either side had opened and were keeping up a very lively interchange of missiles; close on our right the second brigade was evidently warmly engaged, as a lively musketry fire, enlivened once in a while with the report of a heavy gun, testified. The morning was dull and cloudy and nothing had yet occurred to enable us to form any conclusion as to what was on hand, but, after a few minutes we were ordered down to the right of the brigade and drawn up on the flank, at right angles to the main line of works, and here we began to gather an inkling of the facts of the case.

Right in our front, on an eminence on the opposite side of a ravine, on one side of which we lay snugly ensconced behind a light line of works, was Fort Steadman, a large and very strong work built on Hare Hill, the spot where we had encamped nearly a year ago, just after the battle of the 18th of June. In and around this a fierce fight was going on, and to the rear of it were to be seen flashes, indicating that sharp skirmishing was going on in the direction of Meade Station, The truth was at once apparent. Massing his forces under cover of the night and taking advantage of the darkness of the morning and the close proximity of our lines, the enemy had driven in our picket line, surprised the garrison of the fort and captured it, and was now pushing for the City Point Railroad, and, perhaps, City Point itself, in fact our lines were broken.

By the time we had arrived at this conclusion, which was anything but a pleasant one, the firing in our rear had increased considerably, and daylight having at length fairly asserted its supremacy, we could see the rebel troops falling rapidly back into Fort Steadman. It had also become sufficiently light for our artillery to get the range and open on the fort, which they were now doing with a will, making their pieces speak with vigor and much to the purpose. This fact the rebels seemed fully to appreciate and regulated the duration of their second visit to the fort to a merely passing one, passing right through and over the parapet on the other side, back to their own lines as fast as possible. The cause of their retreat was soon apparent. Just as they commenced leaving, the third division of the 9th corps, under Brevet Major General Hartranft, appeared coming up over the edge of the ravine, advancing in line of battle in excellent order, and with the General at their head leading the charge. On they go, unbroken and unwavering, leaving here and there a man on the field, but never stopping or faltering. The "Johnnies" don't like the look of things, they evidently think they are in a tight place, "and have waked up the wrong passenger." And so they take their leave, piling over the parapets and swarming back to their lines like bees from a hive, leaving behind them hundreds of their dead and wounded, ten battle flags and any quantity of arms and accoutrements. A great number prefer taking their chances of a Union prison to facing Union bullets, and throwing away their arms, sneak in under cover of our breastworks and surrender themselves as prisoners of war. Meanwhile the 3d division has occupied Fort Steadman, the firing has ceased and the 37th goes home to breakfast, having for the first and only time been disengaged spectators of a battle.

The regiment suffered no loss in this affair, as although exposed to some shelling, it was not directly engaged with any portion of the enemy's forces, remaining on the field solely for the purpose of covering the right flank and rear of the 1st brigade.

The next week was passed in an uneasy, ominous state of comparative quiet, the lull that always precedes a storm of any kind whatever, broken by occasional rumors and reports, and sundry turnings out at unseasonable hours of the day and night. At length, on the evening of Saturday, the 1st of April, our chief, suspecting that Lee was about to evacuate, directed our batteries to feel the enemy's line, so as to find out, if possible, whether he had withdrawn his artillery or not. About half past ten the performance commenced, and the 37th was ordered to fall in, as usual, and move down to the support of our picket line.

Shortly after we had moved out of camp, the enemy began replying with his mortars, showing that these, at least, had not been removed, and, from their fire, one of our men was wounded as we marched down the new covered way leading to our picket line. We soon got into position in a deep valley or ravine, just in the rear of our picket line, and there, for about three hours, were witnesses of one of the most sublime and terrific spectacles of the war. Every gun and every mortar along the whole length of the two opposing lines was, by this time, fairly in action, and the various missiles, plainly to be traced in their course through the air, by the train of sparks from the burning fuse, were crossing one another at every angle and in every direction. Watching this grand pyrotechnic display from a secure and tolerably comfortable position, time passed rapidly enough, till about half past twelve, on the morning of Sunday, the 2d of April, when, the firing having gradually died away, we were ordered to march out by the left flank and report at Brigade Headquarters.

Arriving here, we were quickly joined by the 8th and 27th Michigan, 38th Wisconsin, and 109th New York, the 51st Pennsylvania, with a company from each of the other regiments, being left to take care of the picket line on our brigade front. After a short delay, we moved rapidly off towards the left, and about an hour before daylight were formed in line of battle in Fort Sedgwick, or, as it is better known, "Fort Hell," the business that brought us there being to support a charge that our 3d Division was about to make on Fort Mahone, otherwise known as "Fort Damnation."

These works bore the reputation of being the strongest and most formidable on the two lines, and it was with rather dubious feelings that we waited for the signal to advance, and the words of Brutus:

occurred to many of us, probably more than once, through the course of the eventful day that was just beginning to dawn. At last the order is given, and silently and rapidly, just as the first grey streaks of dawn begin to shine in the east, we see the dusky forms file out past us into the open field beyond the fort. Then our turn comes next, and away we go with orders to keep as far to the left as we can get. On we go, grape, canister and case shot whistling round us in every direction, over a cornfield with the dried stalks still standing—over our picket line—across a small marshy run—"this must be the rebel picket line!" "hullo, there's a dead Johnny!" and in another minute we have retaliated on the rebels for their attack of the 25th of March, and Fort Mahone and two or three hundred yards of the rebel works are in possession of the 1st Brigade, 1st Division of the 9th Army Corps.

At daylight, we discover that during the darkness and confusion, two companies of our regiment have separated somewhat from the rest, and are lying in Fort Mahone, while the remainder of the regiment lie a little to the right of that work. We hold our position all through that day, while fighting is going on on each side of us, from the Appomattox to the extreme left, and away round to the Five-forks, where Wright and Sheridan are busy at work. But we have no time to think of what is going on, on either side of us, events in our own neighborhood demand all our attention. Several times, in the course of the day, the rebels attempt to regain the fort, and as often we send them back till the hillside in our front is thick with dead and dying.

And so the 2d of April draws to a close, the rebel line is broken and the city of Petersburg is, virtually, ours. All that night we pass, under arms, in the rebel works, and at daylight on the 3d, advance in line of battle, not a shot from the enemy to check our progress—we can see the cannon remaining in several of the forts, but where are the gunners?

and now we are up to the second line of works, they are silent and empty, and Gen. Hartranft, commanding the 3d Division of our Corps, jumps astride of the 8-inch Columbiad, which, a week or two before, had shelled his headquarters in the Avery House, and which he had sworn he would "straddle."

And now the fact becomes evident, Petersburg is evacuated. We break from line of battle into column, and dipping down into a ravine we see, as we mount the hill on the other side, the cockade city lying stretched out at our feet, the goal we have been striving for, for almost a year, is won, and Petersburg is ours.

It seems strange and dream-like, at first, to stand there and look down, at close quarters, on the spires and cupolas that for many a long month we have watched from a distance, and to trace their connections, with the buildings of which they formed a part, in reality, instead of only in imagination, as before.

Yes, there it lay before us looking, somehow, strangely civilized and peaceful with its old fashioned steep-roofed houses nestled down amongst the trees, the smoke from the chimneys curling upwards into the bright blue sky overhead—a crowd of darkies "Hurrahing and Hallelujahing" around us, accompanying their expressions of delight with a grotesque exhibition of antics and grimaces, and "Bressing de Lord and the Yankees," about alike, for the freedom that had this day come to them. And now as the light gets stronger, we see the colors of the 2d Michigan waving from the Court House, and the strains of a brass band come floating down the wind faint and indistinct in the distance. But a note here and there is sufficient to show that it is a salute to the flag that waves over the captured city, and, as the well-known strains of the "Star Spangled Banner" fall clearer and clearer on the ear, our own flags are "unfurled to the glad breeze of heaven," and a cheer goes up to greet them, that awakens the echoes of the city far and wide.

We sit down under the shade of the locust trees and discuss a hasty breakfast, when the word is given, "Fall in," and we march back to camp, to bid farewell to the spot that, for nearly six months, has been our only home, to pack up our Lares and Penates and transporting them, like Ulysses, (not Grant, but him of Troy) on our back, start off in pursuit of the rebel army, or wherever it may please Grant to send us.

The same evening the brigade was moved out on to the Boydton Plankroad where the men were allowed a brief rest after a week of duty, which had pretty well tired us all out, both officers and men. It is true that we had had little or no marching, and only one day's fighting, but the continual state of tension in which our nerves were kept all that time, and the want of rest, made us all glad of a respite from our labors.

We remained camped near the city till the 6th of the month, Col. Ely, commanding 2d brigade, 1st division, 9th army corps, being appointed Military Governor of the same, Brevet Major General Wilcox, commanding the district. We found the inhabitants, for the most part, orderly and well disposed, though a few cases of outrage towards our troops occurred which were as much deprecated and resented by the more orderly and well behaved portion of the community, as by us.

Petersburg is a remarkably neat and pretty city, situated on the Appomattox River, about ten miles above its confluence with the James at City Point. Before the war it contained somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty thousand inhabitants, though at the time of our occupation of it, its population scarcely numbered over fifteen thousand. It was originally a trading post, established by one Peters, for traffic with the Indians, and in process of time, and as the country became settled, became a place of trade for the settlers in the vicinity. The original town was located about where the cemetery at Blandford now stands, and for a time, was known as Peter's, afterwards as Pocahontas, this latter name being still given to a hamlet across the river, forming a suburb of the city. The name was finally changed to Petersburg which it retains to this day; it is situated principally in Dinwiddie county, and is the principal tobacco shipping point in the South. The neighboring counties of Prince George and Pocahontas, have a fertile, highly productive soil, raising corn, tobacco, sugar-cane and cotton as well as wheat, barley, oats and other cereals. It has railroad communications with Richmond, distant twenty-five miles, Burkesville sixty miles, Weldon, N. C., seventy-five miles, Norfolk and Suffolk sixty-three miles, and a short railroad also connects it with City Point, its port of entry, to which place there is easy access, from the coast, for vessels drawing fifteen feet of water.

There are several large cotton, flour, and lumber mills erected on the rapids of the Appomattox, which furnish an unequalled water power, as yet only partially developed, and a proper attention paid to which would largely increase the wealth and importance of the place. The streets are wide and straight, nicely ornamented with shade trees, and the public buildings, for the most part, well designed and well finished. In hotels the city is rather deficient, there being but one decent one, the Jarrett House, in the whole place. Sycamore street, the principal business street of the city, contains a few fine buildings and stores, and quite a number of handsome residences.

The stores were mostly closed on our arrival, and but few of them had much of a stock on hand, Confederate scrip having for a long time been quoted "low" and the supply scant. On the Saturday preceding the Monday on which we arrived in the city, flour had been sold at $1,400 a barrel, wood $50 a cord and other necessaries of life in proportion. The lower part of the city bore severe traces of the siege, hardly a house being unmarked by either shot or shell. The gas works were nearly torn to pieces, a long chimney, eighty-five feet in height, which had once formed part of the building, having been thrown down a short time before our arrival, after having received thirty-five shells through it in different places. The clock on the Town Hall had also been perforated by a three inch shell, though strange to say, the missile had not damaged the works in the least. Two bridges across the Appomattox and three large warehouses full of tobacco, had been set on fire and destroyed by the rebels when they evacuated. A fine strong bridge leading across the river, from the South Side railroad depot to the railway company's machine shop, had been loaded with two new locomotives and all the cars that could be placed on it, and then set fire to, cars and locomotives being thus precipitated into the river.

A large quantity of commissary stores, consisting of corn meal, bacon, coffee, (unroasted,) sugar and tobacco, was found in the rebel government warehouses and were afterwards issued to the destitute citizens, irrespective of color. Captain John Cooper, of the 5th Wisconsin, was appointed C. S., and the scene in his office, from daylight till dark, was a novel one.

Ladies of the first family type, clothed in deepest black, with a sullen, defiant look on their handsome faces, sometimes closely veiled; Africa, of all shades, from the genuine sable "mungo," with skin like polished ebony, and showing from between his extended gums a formidable array of ivory, to the graceful quadroon, hardly a shade darker, and very often a great deal handsomer than her late mistress, standing within a few feet of one another, all jubilant and triumphant, all rejoicing in their new found freedom, kind and polite to the boys in blue, their liberators, and obsequious, to a degree, to shoulder straps. Poor things, what their future may be, we know not, but they can never know a happier day in their lives, than when, there on the third of April, 1865, the fetters fell from their hands, as from Paul and Silas in prison, and they stood, for the first time in their lives, free men and women.

On the 6th of April, the 1st division, 9th army corps, was relieved from duty in Petersburg, and moved out on the line of the South Side Railroad, having its headquarters at Burkesville, and the corps being strung along the road from that place to Petersburg. The 37th moved out at daylight and camped about dark near Ford's Station, from whence they were afterwards removed to beyond Wellsville and in the neighborhood of Black's and White's, where they remained till after the surrender of Lee and Johnston and their armies, guarding the railroad and the farms and plantations adjoining, and administering, as far as our commissariat would permit, to the wants of the adjacent population.

Overrun and devastated by two contending armies, the once rich country, surrounding Petersburg and Richmond, is to-day a wilderness. Not only have the crops been swept off to supply the wants of the Confederate soldiers, but the cattle and horses have been also absorbed for the same purpose. Fences have been torn down and burnt, houses, sheds and barns stripped of their coverings to furnish huts for winter quarters, and the whole country converted into a scene of devastation and ruin. Deserters from both armies have formed bands of guerrillas for the purposes of plunder and pillage, men from the opposing armies having in some cases associated together for this purpose.

A rather amusing incident of this kind which occurred whilst we were near Black's and White's, may serve as an illustration. Col. Harriman, having been informed that large body of guerrillas had formed a camp in his neighborhood, sent Capt. Burnett, A. D. C. on his staff, accompanied by a sufficient force, to reconnoitre and report on the condition of affairs. The Captain set out on his expedition and soon arrived in sight of the enemy, (?) whom he found to consist of about a couple of hundred colored individuals camped in due form, and with camp guards, &c., duly posted. The commanding officer was a private of the 5th Mass. Colored Cavalry, who had, by some means or other, strayed from his command, and had, like David, "gathered to him every one (of his color) that was in distress and every one that was discontented," and had established a camp in regular military style.

The sable chieftain sat at his tent door as the Captain approached, and while one intelligent son of Africa was carefully cleaning his master's (?) horse, another highly intellectual contraband was blacking his boots. The scene was a rich one and might be taken for the frontispiece of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's next novel. The terms of capitulation were not, we believe, quite as ceremonious nor so advantageous as those agreed on between Gens. Grant and Lee, for poor Cuffee was sent back to his regiment under arrest, and his sable warriors who belonged to the neighboring plantations dispersed to their homes, and their arms, which they had collected from the battle field of the Five Forks, turned over to Uncle Sam.

Whilst camped here the sad news reached us of the brutal assassination of President Lincoln by the wretched maniac, Booth, and I say maniac, not to palliate his crime, but because his act was one none but a maniac would have committed. For, however much he may have sympathized with the Southern cause and hated its fancied oppressors, he might have known that such an expression of malignity and revenge, even though sanctioned by the Confederate government, as after events have shown it was, would, as it in fact has, crush out all sympathy for the rebellion, at home and abroad, and extinguish the last sentiment of pity for what its partisans have been pleased to call their heroic resistance against superior numbers.

The effect the news of the assassination had on the army may be imagined, but cannot be described. In the midst of our rejoicings at the successes which had so lately crowned our efforts, and while the praises and acclamations of the North were yet ringing in our ears, it fell on us like a thunderbolt. Just as the dawn of peace, crowning the long and arduous labors of the past four years, was beginning to illuminate his pathway, in the very zenith of his career and at the height of his fame, our good, kind President was ruthlessly and brutally murdered. There is no need here to eulogize those virtues, so well known to all who have watched so anxiously and with such interest the successive acts of his career, nor to enlarge on that stubborn honesty and integrity of purpose and principle which has brought this nation safely through a sea of troubles which well nigh overwhelmed it. Abraham Lincoln has gone to his account, and the tears of a nation that honored him whilst living, follow him to the grave, now that he is dead. The loss is ours, not his; he has died at his post with his harness on his back; he has laid down his life for the country he loved more than life itself, a soldier in the cause of humanity, freedom and right, and what could man wish more. Peace to his soul! When the time comes for us to go, may our record, if not as glorious, be at least as clear as his.

REUNION.

[From the London Spectator.]

The surrender of Lee and Johnston with their entire armies, put an end to the rebellion in Virginia, and left the Army of the Potomac, for the first time in four years, out of employment, with no one to fight and looking round for some one to hit or to "tread on the tail of its coat." Such things could not last, so on the 20th of April we had orders to pack up and move from our camp on the South Side railroad to City Point, there to take transports for Washington. This we accordingly did, and after a tiresome march, arrived at City Point on the morning of the 22d.

A few hours sufficed for all necessary arrangements, and before evening the steamer Daniel Webster, having on board Col. Harriman and staff, Gen. Humphries of the 2d corps, and the 37th and 38th Wisconsin, was steaming slowly down the James river against a strong flood tide. We passed Harrison's Landing, where the 9th corps crossed the James on pontoons in its march from Cold Harbor to Petersburg, during the summer of last year, and just below this point, the last rays of the setting sun were shining on the glorious old stars and stripes floating proudly over Fort Powhattan, the strongest work on the James river. Our boat having no regular government pilot, was compelled to anchor shortly after dark, and wait till morning and daylight should enable us to pick our way along the mazy channel. We passed Fortress Monroe with its "even trench" and frowning embrasures about sunrise, and steamed out through Hampton Roads, past that singularly amphibious locality, part fort, part prison, known as the Rip Raps, into the smooth waters of Chesapeake Bay. The morning was still and pleasant, a light breeze from the northwest created just enough swell to give an easy rise and fall to the vessel, enough to make us feel that we were at sea, and hardly enough to unsettle the internal arrangements of the least nautical of our passengers. Far away on the starboard bow, Capes Charles and Henry were just visible, faint blue streaks in the distant offing. Astern of us were Norfolk, Fortress Monroe, the Rip Raps, several Men of War, including two British and one French steam frigate, and several saucy looking Yankee gunboats, bustling round in a great hurry, making a great swell in the water and a great noise with their escaping steam, as if they had important government business on hand and were anxious to get through with it. Schooners, barques and sloops of all sizes, builds and styles were either dropping easily down before the light wind, their big fore-and-aft sails boomed out on either side and giving them the appearance, as they rose and fell on the swells, of sea-birds, perched on the water, with their wings spread ready to take flight, or with sheets flat aft were working up the bay, passing and repassing one another as they tacked and tacked again. And the huge steam frigates lay there quiet, and, as it seemed, disdainful watchers of the whole scene, models of order and neatness from truck to deck, every rope taut and in its place, every spar and every line clear and distinct against the blue sky behind them, the black muzzles of the guns with their white tompions all in even line, and the boats at the swinging boom, each with its boat-tender aboard to keep it from chafing and rubbing against its neighbor—everything orderly, methodical, neat. (And here a moral. What a pity some people in this world cannot, like a man-of-war's boat, be furnished with a boat-tender, to keep the waves of envy and unfriendliness from causing them to chafe against their fellows.)

But ethics and moralizing have but little to do with the 1st brigade, 1st division, 9th army corps, and still less with the good ship Daniel Webster, which, about this time, was bowling along up the bay, at the rate of ten knots an hour. About noon we passed the light-ship on Wolf Trap Shoals, with the tin-clad lying alongside, to protect her from guerrillas. For, the inference being but fair that those fiends, who would not hesitate to destroy a train containing innocent women and children, would have as little compunction in destroying the often-times only friend of the storm-beaten ship, in her most thrilling hours of danger, all the light-houses and light-vessels along the coast of Virginia are strongly guarded, day and night. Just before dark, we entered the mouth of the Potomac, and, in obedience to a hail from the guard-ship, at Port Washington, made fast to the dock at Alexandria, at sunrise, on the morning of the 24th. Here we disembarked, and were marched out to a very pleasant camping-ground, on the line of the Orange and, Alexandria railroad. We remained here two days, when we received orders to march to Washington. Thither we accordingly went, and the evening of the same day found us encamped near Tenallytown, between Forts Gaines and Simmons, and not far from the Chain Bridge. Here we remained, "possessing our souls in peace," and doing a little picket duty, a little drilling, not a little dress-parading, and, in fact, playing soldiers; with nothing to do, and all day to do it in; and, barring a slight suspicion of monotony, leading a not unpleasant life.

On Tuesday evening, May 9th, we had a very pleasant reunion, at brigade headquarters, the occasion being the presentation to Col. Harriman, by the officers of his staff, of a very handsome sword. The presentation was made, in the name of the staff, by Capt. Charles McCreery, 8th Michigan Volunteers, Inspector General, who in a very neat and appropriate speech descanted on the pleasant nature of the relations that had always existed between the Colonel and his staff, officially and otherwise, during the long time he had commanded the brigade, and speaking in terms of the warmest commendation of the able and efficient manner in which the Colonel had commanded the brigade both in camp and in action. The Colonel responded, briefly and to the purpose, and after an hour or so spent in social chat the party broke up, pleased and gratified at the opportunity that had been afforded them of showing their appreciation of an able and gallant officer.

When the last grand pageant of the war passed through the streets of the capital, and the army, that for the last four years, had been laboring to maintain the existence of the country and to uphold its chosen form of government, received a sincere and hearty public welcome at the hands of a grateful people. Our regiment took a part in the pageant and received its share of the welcome. For two days, Washington was the scene of a military display, the like of which the world has never seen, and God grant may never have occasion to see again. From nine in the morning till three in the afternoon of each day, Pennsylvania Avenue, from the Capitol to Georgetown, was covered with troops, as the armies of the Potomac, Tennessee and Georgia passed along through crowds of their fellow citizens who had turned out to welcome them home.

The long wide street, with its shady sidewalks and handsome buildings, was dressed in its gayest. The fresh spring verdure of the trees, the glorious stripes and stars waving everywhere, the bright glancing bayonets, set off by the dark blue of their bearers, the regimental colors and guidons, the waving of flags and handkerchiefs from every window, the lively strains of the various brigade and regimental bands, the bright clear sky and sun overhead, formed a sight once seen, never to be forgotten, and worth ten years of a man's life for him to be able to say, "I was there."

But the details of this brilliant military panorama are now history, so suffice it to say that the 37th contributed their part to the show and received their welcome from the Washingtonians and their friends.

On the afternoon of the 25th of May, the 1st brigade was reviewed by Colonel Harriman and a large party of distinguished visitors, guests of Colonel H's. The party included Governor Lewis, Gen. Lucius Fairchild, Gen. Gaylord, Brev. Brig. Gen. C. Fairchild, Governor Crapo of Michigan, Major Chas. Hamlin, son of the late Vice President, and his sister, Mrs. Bachelor, Col. Proudfit of Wisconsin, Mrs. Gen. Fairchild, and a large delegation of civilians and soldiers from Michigan and Wisconsin.

The review was preceded by brigade dress parade, followed by a short drill, after which the ranks were opened and Col. Harriman, accompanied by the two Governors, Gens. Fairchild and Gaylord, rode along the front and rear of the line, the ranks were then closed and the brigade, having formed column by company, marched past in review. Great praise was awarded for the accuracy and regularity with which the whole affair passed off, by all present, both civil and military.

At our camp in Tenallytown we remained without any occurrence of moment coming to break the monotony of our lives, daily expecting an order to return home, and daily being disappointed.

The orders mustering out all men sick in hospital and all whose term of service expired before October 1st, 1865, reduced us much in number, and an effort was made to consolidate the 38th with us.

In the early part of July an order, directing the consolidation to take place, was received, but was again countermanded, in consequence of an order from the War Department to muster out the whole 9th corps.

Some reason or the other, no doubt a good and sufficient one, delayed the order, however, for some time on its passage from the Adjutant General's office in Washington, causing no little grumbling and a great many curse-ory remarks from our men. It came at length, and on the morning of July 26th, at 10 A. M., the 37th Wisconsin, after having served for nearly half its original term of enlistment, and having spent most of that time in active and arduous campaigning, ceased to belong to the service of the United States. The same evening, transportation having been duly furnished us, we took the cars on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad for Baltimore. A detachment of the 38th Wisconsin and the 27th Michigan occupied the same train as we did, and as we rolled out of the depot a cheer went up from the forty-three cars, of which our train was composed, that wakened the echoes far and near.

From Baltimore we took the Pennsylvania railroad for Pittsburg, where the Ladies' Aid Society gave us a most hospitable reception. From Pittsburg, through the winding glens of Pennsylvania, and over the teeming fields of Ohio, till at length, tired, dusty, and hungry, at two o'clock in the morning we sweep into the evergreen city of Cleveland.

Here too, the ladies, God bless them, are on hand with a first rate breakfast ready and waiting for us. After a short delay we embarked on board the Morning Star, and made a quick and pleasant run across Lake Erie and through the St. Clair river, till at length we cited the old fashioned looking buildings of Sandwich and Windsor, looking sleepily and wonderingly at the bustling, lively aspect of their opposite neighbor, Detroit.

Here we came in for a share of the kind and hearty welcome that awaited the 27th Michigan, and here we took leave of that regiment. For over a year we had served in the same brigade; for over a year the 37th "Badgers" and 27th "Wolverines" had toiled, marched and fought side by side. And it was with mutual feelings of esteem and regret that in the streets of Detroit we parted with our old companions in arms. Many a hearty good-bye and God speed you were exchanged and many promises of correspondence given and received, and soon the cars whirled us on, through the night, to where the ladies of Grand Haven had a good breakfast ready for us, where they greeted us with a hearty welcome,