nd the paper which had been given me, as described,
by one of our escaped prisoners. It proved to be the song of
"Sherman's March to the Sea," which had been composed by Adjutant
S. H. M. Byers, of the Fifth Iowa Infantry, when a prisoner in the
asylum at Columbia, which had been beautifully written off by a
fellow-prisoner, and handed to me in person. This appeared to me
so good that I at once sent for Byers, attached him to my staff,
provided him with horse and equipment, and took him as far as
Fayetteville, North Carolina, whence he was sent to Washington as
bearer of dispatches. He is now United States consul at Zurich,
Switzerland, where I have since been his guest. I insert the song
here for convenient reference and preservation. Byers said that
there was an excellent glee-club among the prisoners in Columbia,
who used to sing it well, with an audience often of rebel ladies:

SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA.

Composed by Adjutant Byers, Fifth Iowa Infantry. Arranged and sung
by the Prisoners in Columbia Prison.

I

Our camp-fires shone bright on the mountain
That frowned on the river below,
As we stood by our guns in the morning,
And eagerly watched for the foe;
When a rider came out of the darkness
That hung over mountain and tree,
And shouted, "Boys, up and be ready!
For Sherman will march to the sea!"

CHORUS:

Then sang we a song of our chieftain,
That echoed over river and lea;
And the stars of our banner shone brighter
When Sherman marched down to the sea!

II

Then cheer upon cheer for bold Sherman
Went up from each valley and glen,
And the bugles reechoed the music
That came from the lips of the men;
For we knew that the stars in our banner
More bright in their splendor would be,
And that blessings from Northland world greet us,
When Sherman marched down to the sea!
Then sang we a song, etc.

III

Then forward, boys! forward to battle!
We marched on our wearisome way,
We stormed the wild hills of Resacar
God bless those who fell on that day!
Then Kenesaw frowned in its glory,
Frowned down on the flag of the free;
But the East and the West bore our standard,
And Sherman marched on to the sea!
Then sang we a song, etc.

IV

Still onward we pressed, till our banners
Swept out from Atlanta's grim walls,
And the blood of the patriot dampened
The soil where the traitor-flag falls;
But we paused not to weep for the fallen,
Who slept by each river and