's Ferry run under the
Maryland Heights, the rocks having been blasted away for a passage. The
railroad bridge had been rebuilt, not permanently, but so that trains
could again cross. Lower down the river were the remains of the pontoon
bridge destroyed by the rebels. Higher up on the other side of the
railroad was a new pontoon bridge, built on boats, painted with Uncle
Sam's light blue color. Farther up, the wagons were fording the stream.
As you crossed the pontoon bridge, you came directly to the little stone
engine house, with its belfry, where John Brown held the power of the
great State of Virginia at bay. All else of the Government buildings are
in ruins. The long lines of brick and stone walls blackened by fire, and
the picturesque broken arches of the engine-house windows, were a fit
greeting to one's entrance upon the ruined grandeur of the Old Dominion.
Through the clouds of dust and the noise and confusion of the village
upon the hill rising immediately above the river, we rode, noting the
signs of the recent contest, or looking down on the blue Potomac,
flowing peacefully below. One large brick house had a breach in the
basement story large enough for us to ride in, caused by some bursting
shell. Dead horses still lay in the road; the tailpiece of a broken
cannon was yet there. As we emerged out of the dust at the top of the
hill beyond, toward the afternoon sun, rose Bolivar Heights, and the
innumerable white tents of General Sumner's large army corps. The
soldiers were out for drill or dress parade. The distant sounds of the
bands and bugles and drums, sometimes succeeding each other, then
mingling together, fell softened but constantly on the ear, and
everywhere was the gleam of the declining sun on glistening sword or
bright musket barrel. Behind us to the east, and beyond the Shenandoah,
which flowed at the foot of the village, arose the high Loudon
Mountains; on the north, on the other side of the Potomac, were the
Maryland Heights, with the road to Sharpsburgh and Williamsport winding
along its wooded base. The tops of these mountains were lighted up and
wreathed with the smoke of the fires kindled to destroy the thick woods
that might afford shelter to approaching enemies. It was most charming
mountain scenery. We enjoyed the view long, but had to turn our backs at
last; and as we recrossed the pontoon bridge we wiped off from the soles
of our feet a large portion of the sacred soil of Virginia. Yes,