e field on which we camped, and longed for
liberty! We passed in review through the city the next day. I cannot
describe my sensations as I went by the old prison-house, with a good
horse under me,--one seemed hardly sufficient,--health in my veins, and
freedom,--it was too much. I had to shout. A lank, unshorn Rebel was
looking through the bars where I had so often looked. We had the finest
of music and the gayest of banners, but the people let us have them all
to ourselves. But our glorious reception in Washington repaid us."

It was a great recompense for all his sufferings that this brave, modest
young officer lived to see the day of victorious peace; but within a few
months the wound from which he had partially recovered was the cause of
his death.

Malarial fever was the prevalent disease in the hospital in the early
autumn. Hundreds sank with it, after the hard marches and
counter-marches with Sheridan in the hot Valley of the Shenandoah
through the summer. Stimulating and nourishing diet came too late to
many of these undermined constitutions, and disease worked its deadly
ravages where ball and bayonet had missed their aim. Dr. Hunter, surgeon
of a Pennsylvania regiment, lived but a short time in severe suffering.
A man of strong character, his patriotism had responded when an urgent
call for men had come from the War Department. Having no son to send to
the war, he felt it to be his duty to leave a large practice and enlist
as a private. He was immediately made surgeon of the regiment which he
devotedly served for several months. His death-bed was the scene of the
most serene peace. "Why should I stay longer below? I am only too glad
to depart and be with Christ: it is far better." These and similar words
showed the tone of his mind. His earnest prayers for the nation were his
last rich legacy of dying faith. He cheerfully gave his life as part of
the ransom of liberty and peace.

On one of those autumnal days died, too, Major Butler. Wounded at
Petersburg, one leg had been fractured in seven places, from the thigh
to the ankle. Three months he lingered in distress which can be
imagined, but to which his heroic spirit never gave utterance.

The hospital was brilliantly illuminated when the result of the
Presidential election was made known, in November. Music and shouts of
rejoicing rent the air, and all were filled with exulting confidence
that the beginning of the end had been accomplished by the overwhel