seven miles with knapsacks, muskets, equipments and three days' rations, passing Sandy Hook and Knoxville, small, dilapidated villages near the ferry. These places, since the war, were rapidly going to decay. Encamping in a field at night, lying on the wet ground till morning. We were on the Heights two weeks, the rain falling continually, the men constantly at work digging entrenchments and on picket, but one day being clear. As the men left they gave a sigh of relief, and hoped they would never see the place again. The rainy season had now commenced, and the roads were almost impassible, the mud in some places hub deep. It was with difficulty that the troops could march, some sinking up to their knees in the mud. But seven miles were made that day, and the troops, drenched with rain, cooked their scanty supper of hard tack and salt pork by camp fires. Rail fences were demolished and burned without regard to owners, and by the light of these camp fires, without tents or blankets, the men bivouacked for the night. This was the first march, and the men, exhausted, threw themselves upon the wet ground, and soon were buried in slumber. Pickets were stationed, and the dark, gloomy hours of the night passed slowly along.

The morning of July 1st dawned clear and bright; the reveille was sounded, and the men awakened from their slumber to prepare for a weary march. Breakfast of hard tack, coffee and pork was eaten, and the troops, in solid columns to the number of 7,000, under command of Gen. French, moved out on the road to Frederick City, passing through Jefferson, a small village on the main road. The sun came out very warm. The march was tiresome, as the men were not used to it. A great many threw away their knapsacks, the ground being covered with them. The farmers followed with their wagons, picking up everything that was thrown away. The men were glad to get rid of all unnecessary loads. The country along the route was splendid. The waving fields of grain, the crops of grass, reminded us of home. But war was desolating the land—cruel, unrelenting war! At four P. M. the column halted near Frederick City, having marched since morning eighteen miles. The roads were very bad, and the column was ordered to remain in camp one day. No passes were allowed the men to visit Frederick City, and they lay quietly in camp on the wet ground, tired and weary, the weather intensely hot, the men bathing in Monocacy. A man from Co. H, named Anderson, ventured beyond his depth and was drowned, not being able to swim. Every effort was made to save him, but without avail. His body was recovered and buried in the cemetery near Frederick.

On Friday, July 3d, the troops were ordered to change camp near Monocacy bridge, marching three miles, awaiting orders, passing through Frederick City, marching company front, the roads very muddy, encamping near Monocacy bridge, on the western side of the river. Remaining over night the men felt the need of blankets, but still none were furnished. It was raining and very disagreeable. It cleared off during the night. The fourth of July was very warm. At noon orders came for the troops to move to the support of the Potomac army, now engaged in a terrific struggle with Lee and the flower of the rebel army at Gettysburgh. Defeat to our forces was ruin; victory, everything. For four days the tide of battle ebbed and flowed. The night of the fourth found the enemy in full retreat, closely followed by our victorious Meade; a name hitherto known only to the army, but now will ever be remembered as one of our proudest leaders—Geo. W. Meade, the hero of Gettysburgh, and the commander of the Potomac army. It again commenced to rain, and the men were wet through. The guns of Gettysburgh were plainly heard. The men were not allowed any rest, but passed on, hoping to arrive in time to take part in that ever memorable battle, and to relieve those men, who for four days had driven the enemy at all points with terrible slaughter. Marching in the mud was slow, the artillery sinking deep in the mire. The divisions now numbered some eight thousand men, having been re-enforced by troops lying in the vicinity of Frederick City, passing through Middletown, a small village eight miles from Frederick City. At sunset the rain ceased for a short time, the sun setting in all its glory. The surrounding country was splendid. Our march was through a valley, the scenery being delightful. The column marched nineteen miles, halting at midnight at Boonsboro Gap; headquarters at the Summit House, eighteen miles from Hagerstown. The enemy were now in full retreat. This was the second time the Confederates had attempted the invasion of the North, and for the second time were defeated. Longstreet had several times hurled his dense columns upon our centre, trying in vain to break our lines, but each time was repulsed with terrible loss. A. P. Hill on the right and Ewell on the left, sought, if possible, a weak spot, to penetrate our lines, but firm as a rock the Union boys stood repulsing each charge, strewing the ground with rebel dead, and driving them back in confusion. Both armies were now in motion, each hoping by rapid marches to outwit the other; Lee trying to get across the Potomac, and Meade trying to intercept him. It was supposed that Lee would retreat by the way of Boonsboro Gap, and French's division was ordered to hold it, and keep the enemy in check, while the Potomac army moved, if possible, in their rear. A strong line of battle was formed, and heavy pickets thrown out. No fires were allowed. As each regiment came up they were formed in line, stacked arms and lay on the wet ground until morning. The night was very cold, and the men suffered very much with nothing but the ground to lie on, with a knapsack for a pillow and the canopy of heaven for a covering.

The division was composed of three Brigades; the first consisting of the 151st N. Y., 6th N. Y. Heavy Artillery, 10th Vermont and 14th N. J., commanded by Brig. Gen. Morris, formerly Colonel of the 6th N. Y. The regiments were very large, numbering from eight hundred to one thousand men. We remained at the Gap five days, the Potomac army passing through, Lee having halted at Williamsport, the river being so high he could not cross. As the veterans of many a hard fought battle passed, they were loudly cheered by the new troops. Their soiled and worn out garments, and their decimated ranks contrasted greatly with our well filled ranks and new clothes. They looked upon us as new recruits, and remarks were frequently made by them not altogether suiting us. Some of them were that our regiments were as large as their brigades, and that we were too green for the front. Such remarks did very well for the time, as we were not inured to hardships as they were, but the war was not yet over. After serving their three years they lay quietly at their homes, while the boys that were then called green, were veterans, destined to see more hardships and more fighting than those that enlisted at the commencement of the war. Nine hundred and sixty rebels that were wounded, with ambulances and baggage wagons, were sent back by Gen. Lee with an escort, to Richmond. They were captured, together with several important despatches, by Kilpatrick's cavalry, and brought in camp for us to guard at Boonsboro Gap. Several of them were in a dying condition. They were very destitute and ragged, with scarcely anything to eat. The 10th Vermont guarded them to Washington. The Regiment was encamped on the spot where Gen. Reno fell at the battle of Antietam, a tree marking the spot. It was on the plantation of Dr. Wise, his well being filled with dead rebels thrown in for burial. Many a parent or loving wife will never know their fate, thinking perhaps they were prisoners, and at the close of the war would return to their homes; but they are now no more. With thousands of Union soldiers their bones rest on Southern soil, there to