manner displaying equal ignorance of the rules of war and politeness, undertook to push their way through the brigade, “to get in ahead of the Yorkers,” and win the honors of the victory from those who had borne the burden and heat of the day. In attempting this they soon found that they had calculated without their host, and that the commanding officers of the Twenty-second had cut their eyeteeth long before putting foot in Pennsylvania. When they pushed up on the right, the head of the column gently obliqued that way; if they changed around, a simple “left oblique” rendered the movement needless; and when they attempted by high strategy to come up on both sides, the order, “By company into line,” filled the road from fence to fence with a solid front of men, who serenely swept forward, refusing to budge from their path for all the “preserves” “ever pickled.”

Then, letting down the fences, they took to the fields, and attempted to get by that way. At the sight of this a wild cry of “double quick” went up from the rear to the front of the column, and breaking into a “double” the brigade swept on for a mile or more, leaving their followers vanishing in their rear, whence, either from their being exhausted, or from hearing that the rebels had not left Carlisle, they never emerged to trouble us.

We had heard, it is true, from passing buggies, and straggling squads of paroled prisoners, that the village itself had been evacuated; but all had united in asserting that the rebels were still very near, several stating that they were just on the outskirts of the place. Under these circumstances an ordinary mind would think that there was no necessity for hurrying. The Reserves were “gone in,” and if there was the least danger, common sense required that the men should be brought into the city as fresh as possible; but our commander did not see things in that light, and consequently walked deliberately into a trap, which came within a hair’s breadth of proving fatal to the whole command.

The skirmishers had been called in before this, and the march had been rapid; it now became “forced.” That meant, in this instance, a march pursued without regard to the health, comfort or fatigue of the troops, against the expostulations of the surgeons; where speed is such an object that everything must be disregarded, and well or ill, suffering or not, the men must push on.

And we did push on, and from our halt, more than ten miles from Carlisle, till we prepared to meet the enemy in the city, no rest was allowed. When we arrived at Kingston, a small but patriotic village on the road, where the women stood at their doors with piles of bread and apple butter, all expected, as a matter of course, that we would be allowed to rest and eat something; but notwithstanding that no rations had been received since the morning of the previous day, (except a little bread obtained by a few of the lucky ones at Hogestown), and although it was now noon, yet our Brigadier refused to allow a moment’s halt, and the men were compelled to close up and march away from the food that stood ready for them. Any one who thinks this was not a sacrifice had better try the experiment.

For a little while the march continued as usual. Thirteen miles passed; a few quietly dropped out; all were growling, not loud but deep. Fourteen, more vacancies—fifteen—the weather growing oppressive with the sultry heat of mid-day. No shade, no water, no rest; no complaining now, but men dropping out with frightful rapidity. All those who were not pure “grit” had given in previously, and from this time every man kept up till he fell from sheer exhaustion. On every side you would see men flush, breathe hard, stagger to the side of the road and drop almost senseless; but still the column went on.

At one time the entire left wing of the Thirty-seventh, on arriving at the crest of a hill, rebelled, and halted where they stood. It would have been well if the whole brigade had followed their example; but as the Twenty-second pressed on, regimental pride was aroused, an officer snatched up the colors and rushed forward, cheering on his men; and closing up as best they could, every man, able to walk, rallied himself once more, and pushed forward. Colonel Roome, of the Thirty-seventh, gave out early, exhausted by illness and the fatigues of the previous day, but followed his regiment in a wagon; and many other officers were compelled to imitate his example. But as there were neither ambulances nor wagons, nothing in truth for the transportation of the sick but what could be picked up on the road, the great majority of the disabled not only here but throughout our subsequent march, had to be left where they gave out.

We finally halted a mile from Carlisle, and formed into line of battle to repel an attack from the rebels, then found to be in the vicinity. But in place of the two regiments, that started eleven hundred strong, only about three hundred men could be mustered on halting, and even these were almost completely exhausted; while the remainder of the brigade were stretched in groups along the roadside, striving to collect their scattered forces sufficiently to enable them to overtake the column, and seven men in the Twenty-second reported by the surgeon as ruptured, afforded an additional proof, if one were necessary, of the severity of the march.

The mere distance marched was not so great, as necessarily to have produced such a result, the same troops subsequently marched much farther without a tithe of the suffering, but it was a great mistake to compel militia, exhausted by previous labor and privation, to undergo such an ordeal without food or rest, and its effect on the morale and discipline of the troops can readily be conceived by any one.

At last the march was finished, and we were at Carlisle, but so were the rebels. For awhile there was mounting in hot haste, riders galloping back to hurry up stragglers; and the brigade rapidly formed into line, amid hurried consultations of field officers, muttered curses from captains who, like Rachel, mourned for their companies “because they were not,” and the other unmistakable signs which indicate nervous anxiety at headquarters. After an hour or so spent on tenter-hooks, somebody told somebody something which resulted in our marching ahead, expecting to have to fight at any moment. But no enemy exhibited himself, and passing through the principal street of Carlisle, we raised the American flag amid great enthusiasm.

Blessed be Carlisle—almost the only place since leaving Philadelphia where cheering had been heard. We could not appreciate too highly the grateful reception we met. The hurrahs of the men, the smiles and waving handkerchiefs of the ladies, made us feel that patriotism still existed in the state; and when the tired and hungry men were shown to a substantial meal in the market-house, and waited on by the ladies of the village (who utterly eclipse any seen on the route for good looks as well as hospitality), it was unanimously resolved that “Mahomet’s paradise was a fool to Carlisle.”

Having made some slight amends for their two days’ fast, the Twenty-second marched through the city (without finishing their supper), having been ordered to support our friends, the Philadelphia battery, in a plan that had been formed at headquarters for cutting off a rebel detachment supposed to be around somewhere; a supposition that was strictly correct, for a very short time showed that they were all around us. On the way to the position—refreshed and almost as good as new—uproarious cheers were given for the ladies of Carlisle, the Thirty-seventh, Colonel Roome, for everything, in fact, except our Brigadier, whose approach, from that