drink, is more than I could
understand.

In a day or two we heard the news of Ewell capturing Milroy at
Winchester, with 500 prisoners, and on the way a part of their troops
passed us in high glee on their way to Richmond prison. I always
noticed that the Federals, on their march to Richmond, were generally
in better spirits when being escorted by Confederates than when
commanded by their own officers with the Confederates between them and
the Southern Capital.

On the fifth day of our march we passed through Winchester, with A.P.
Hill marching parallel to us, some eight or ten miles to our right.
Ewell had pushed on to the Potomac, and was turning Washington wild
and frantic at the sight of the "Rebels" so close to their capital.
As we neared the border we could discover Union sentiment taking the
place of that of the South. Those who ever sympathized with us had to
be very cautious and circumspect. Now and then we would see a window
slowly raise in a house by the roadside, or on a hill in the
distance, and the feeble flutter of a white handkerchief told of their
Confederate proclivities. Generally the doors of all dwellings in
the extreme northern portion of Virginia, and in Maryland and
Pennsylvania, were mostly closed.

On the morning of the 25th of June we crossed the Potomac at
Williamsport. Here was shouting and yelling. Hats went into the air,
flags dipped and swayed, the bands played "Maryland, My Maryland,"
while the men sang "All Quiet on the Potomac To-night." We were now
in the enemy's country, and scarcely a shot was fired. We had
lost Stuart. "Where was he?" "Stewart has left us." These and like
expressions were heard on all sides. That bold and audacious cavalier,
in a sudden fit of adventure, or hardihood unequalled, had crossed the
Potomac in sight of the spires of Washington, almost under its very
guns, and had frightened the authorities out of their wits. Every
citizen that could possibly get out of the place was grabbing his
valuables and fleeing the city on every train. The Cabinet officers
were running hither and thither, not able to form a sensible or
rational idea. Had it been possible to have evacuated the city, that
would have been done. A Confederate prison or a hasty gibbet stared
Staunton in the face, and he was sending telegrams like lightning
over the land. Lincoln was the only one who seemingly had not lost his
head. But Stuart pushed on toward York and Carlisle, while Ewell had
ca