GOING TO THE FRONT.

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our quarters within the fort, where we unslung our knapsacks. After thefirst day’s struggle with a knapsack, the general verdict was, “ got too muchof it.” At supper-time we were marched to the dining-barracks, where ourbill of fare was beefsteak, coffee, wheat bread, and potatoes, but not a signof milk or butter. It struck me as queer when I heard that the army wasnever provided with butter and milk.

The next day we started for Washington, by rail. We marched through NewYork’s crowded streets without awakening the enthusiasm we thought ourdue; for we had read of the exciting scenes attending the departure of theNew York 7th for Washington, on the day the 6th Massachusetts wasmobbed in Baltimore, and also of the march of the 12th Massachusetts downBroadway on the 24th of July, when the regiment sang the then new andalways thrilling lyric, “John Brown’s Body.” The following morning wetook breakfast in Philadelphia , where we were attended by matrons andmaidens, who waited upon us with thoughtful tenderness, as if they had beenour own mothers and sweethearts instead of strangers. They feasted us andthen filled our haversacks. God bless them! If we did not quite appreciatethem then, we did afterward. After embarking on the cars at Philadelphia ,the waving of handkerchiefs was less and less noticeable along the route.We arrived in Baltimore late at night; Union troops now controlled the city,and we marched through its deserted streets unmolested. On our arrival atWashington the next morning, we were marched to barracks, dignified by thename of “ Soldiers’ Retreat,” where each man received a half loaf of “ soft-tack,” as we had already begun to call wheat bread, with a piece of “ saltjunk,” about as big and tough as the heel of my government shoe, and aquart of coffee,—which constituted our breakfast. Our first day in Wash-ington was spent in shaving, washing, polishing our brasses and buttons, andcleaning-up for inspection. A day or two later we moved to quarters notfar from the armory, looking out on the broad Potomac, within sight of LongBridge and the city of Alexandria .

Here and there the sound of a gun broke the serenity, but otherwise thequiet seemed inconsistent with the war preparations going on around us. Inthe distance, across the wide river, we could see the steeples and towers of thecity of Alexandria , while up stream, on the right, was the Long Bridge. Hereand there was to be seen the moving panorama of armed men, as a regimentcrossed the bridge; a flash of sunlight on the polished muskets revealed themto the eye; while the white-topped army baggage-wagons filed over in con-stant procession, looking like sections of whitewashed fence in motion. Theovergrown country village of that period, called Washington, can be describedin a few words. There were wide streets stretching out from a common centerlike a spider’s web. The Capitol, with its unfinished dome; the Patent Office ,the Treasury, and the other public buildings, were in marked and classic con-trast with the dilapidated, tumble-down, shabby look of the average homes,stores, groceries, and groggeries, which increased in shabbiness and dirty dilapi-dation as they approached the suburbs. The climate of Washington wasgenial, but in the winter months the mud was fearful. I have drilled in it,