ing to remember. They were like a band
of brothers and showed the same interest as if we had been of one
family.

I think the students felt a sort of clannish pride when one of their
number enlisted and thought that the alma mater was doing the correct
and patriotic thing in sending her sons into the army. It was plainly to
be seen that many of them were holding back unwillingly. Indeed, it was
not long till some of them dropped their studies abruptly and followed
the example of those who had already gone. Everybody gave me an
affectionate Godspeed and I was surprised at the number of my friends.

CHAPTER VII

THE DEPARTURE FOR WASHINGTON

It was on a bright moonlight night in December, 1862, that the Sixth
cavalry of Michigan left its rendezvous in Grand Rapids and marched to
the station to take the cars for Washington. It was like tearing asunder
the ties of years, for those whose lines had been cast even for a brief
time only, in the "Valley City."[3] The hospitality of the people had
been unbounded. Many of the officers and men had their homes there.
Those who had not, took short leaves and made flying visits to their
families to say good-by and arrange their affairs for what might be a
final farewell. The scenes of our sojourn for a few months, where we had
engaged in daily drills and parades, in the pomp and circumstance of
mimic warfare, were to know us no longer. The time for rehearsal had
passed. We were about to enter upon the real stage of action, and do our
part in the mighty tragedy then enacting.

The camp was broken. Tents were struck. Preparations for departure were
made. Adieus were said. Horses were sent away in charge of a detail.
The quartermaster took possession of the equipments. The regiment was
not yet armed, but was to be supplied with all the needed munitions on
arrival in the Capital City.

For some reason, it was deemed best to make a night march to the
station. No notice of this was given to the citizens. The result was
that when we left camp, at 2 a.m., the streets were deserted. The town
was wrapped in slumber. No sound was heard, except the tramp, tramp of
the soldiers, and the roar of the river as it plunged over the dam,
which only served to intensify the stillness.

Through Michigan was a memorable trip. The same scenes with but slight
variation, were enacted at each station. Officers and men alike, were
warmed by the hearty and affectionate greetings, the memory of whi