y, calling back in a cheery voice that he would
come again, "when this cruel war is over." Resuming our journey, a
little apprehensive of encountering some of Mosby's men, we were
fortunate enough to meet ten troopers of the First Michigan going across
the country to join the division. Hurrying on through Dranesville, at a
little before noon we overtook the Fifth Michigan cavalry, from whom we
learned that we were up with the advance and that our own regiment was
far in rear. Selecting a comfortable place, we unsaddled our horses and
lighting our pipes, threw ourselves down on the green grass, and for
hours sat waiting while mile after mile of army wagons and artillery
passed. Most of the infantry had gone on the day before, but I remember
distinctly seeing a portion of the Twelfth corps, en route. I recall
especially General A.S. ("Pap") Williams and General Geary, both of whom
commanded divisions in that corps. At six o'clock in the evening we went
to a farm house and had a supper prepared but had not had time to pay
our respects to it when by the aid of my field glass I saw the advance
of the regiment coming. It was the rear guard of a column that was seven
hours passing a given point.

It was after dark when the regiment reached the ford at Edwards Ferry.
The night was cloudy and there was no moon. The river was nearly, if not
quite, a mile wide, the water deep and the current strong. The only
guide to the proper course was to follow those in advance; but, as horse
succeeded horse, they were gradually borne farther and farther down the
stream, away from the ford and into deeper water. By the time the Sixth
reached the river the water was nearly to the tops of the saddles.
Marching thus through the inky darkness, guided mostly by the sound of
plashing hoofs in front, there was imminent danger of being swept away
and few, except the most reckless, drew a long breath until the distance
had been traversed and our steeds were straining up the slippery bank
upon the opposite shore.

Safely across the river, the column did not halt for rest or food, but
pushed on into Maryland. To add to the discomfort, a drizzling rain set
in. The guide lost his way, and it was two o'clock in the morning when
the rear guard halted for a brief bivouac in a piece of woods, near
Poolesville. Wet, weary, hungry and chilled, as they were, it was enough
to dispirit the bravest men. But there was no murmuring, and at
daylight, the march was res