e latter
kept unceasing vigil upon the fortifications before him.

Sunday evening the bands were ordered out to play, and it was late into
the night when their melodious strains ceased to float through the air.
It was a night long to be remembered, the hearts of the black soldiers
of the 25th Corps, gladdened by the reports of the victories of the
troops before Petersburg, were jubilant, and with vigilant watch each
looked for morning. They were impatient for the light, and ere it dawned
they were ready for the onset which they believed must come with it. The
enemy whom they supposed were preparing to give them battle, was
silently stealing away to the enchanting strains of the Federal
musicians. It was near the morning hours when a sudden report startled
the sleeping soldiers; an explosion, another, and yet another followed
in rapid succession.

General Weitzel soon became satisfied that the enemy was moving, the
continuous sound of distant cannonading away to the south, told that the
combat still raged. From the signal tower bright lights were
discernable at Richmond. The city appeared to be on fire; a confederate
picket was captured, but he knew nothing; he had got astray from his
comrades and command. A deserter came in with intelligence that the city
was being evacuated, and half an hour later a negro drove into camp and
gave information that the enemy was flying.

The ground in front was thickly set with torpedoes, and the troops dared
not move. Day came and Colonel Draper's black brigade of the 25th Corps
went forward. The road was lumbered with all manner and sort of military
gear and munitions of war. Keeping clear of the red flags which marked
the torpedoes, the troops pushed on; they soon reached the defences of
the city to find them untenanted; the negro had told the truth and the
Phalanx brigade entered the city welcomed by thousands of happy
kinsfolks. Badeau says:

"The sun was an hour up, when suddenly there rose in the
streets the cry of 'Yankees! Yankees!' and the mass of
plunderers and rioters, cursing, screaming, trampling on
each other, alarmed by an enemy not yet in sight, madly
strove to extricate themselves and make an opening for the
troops. Soon about forty men of the Fourth Massachusetts
Cavalry rode into the crowd, and, trotting straight to the
public square, planted their guidons on the Capitol.
Lieutenant De Peyster, of Weitzel's staff, a Ne