the sweat literally pouring off their sides like rain,
while men panted for breath and seemed almost on the point of
suffocation. It was late in the night when our corps was all over the
bridge, and the march was continued without rest during the whole night
and all next day till we arrived again near Frederick City, where we had
a night and a day of rest. We now learned that the cause of our sudden
countermarch was the raid of Early's cavalry, who had burned the city of
Chambersburgh, and caused much destruction of property elsewhere.

By this time the Sixth corps was, in army parlance, "about played out."
Even our famous marches on the Gettysburgh campaign were eclipsed by
this perpetual series of forced marches for nearly a month. The men were
very much worn from their campaigns before leaving Petersburgh, but now
we had had a month of traveling, night and day.

Hardly were the troops settled in camp for a night of rest, before the
bugle called them to go again. Now when we marched, horses would drop
down by dozens along the road, unable to rise again. Their riders would
strip them of their saddles, and leave the worn out steeds to their
fate. If, by chance, one of these deserted horses, after a few hours of
rest, could muster strength to rise to his feet, he was doomed to be
seized by some drummer boy, or other wight of the "bummer" tribe,
mounted and rode till his strength again failed. Then the dismounted
bummer would coolly remove his hempen bridle, shoulder his drum, and
seek for another steed. For two or three days past the weather had been
excessively hot, and men could be seen lying all along the roadside, as
we marched, suffering from sunstroke.

Wednesday, August 3d, the Sixth corps marched to Buckeystown, a little
village on the Monocacy, about five miles south of Frederick.

The different brigades of the corps were scattered about on the
hillsides which bounded the pleasant valley of the Monocacy, where pure
fresh air was in abundance, and the men gladly availed themselves of the
privilege of bathing in the delightfully clear waters of the river. For
a distance of nearly two miles the river was filled with bathers at all
hours, except in the hottest part of the day and in the night, and even
then some might be seen enjoying the luxury of the bath.

At Buckeystown we remained two days, in the enjoyment of a pleasant
bivouac; yet, as though no place was free from evil, an event occurred
here afflictive