via Mobile and Montgomery, Alabama. to Macon, Georgia, where they arrived May 28th. As soon as they entered the stockade Roberts washed his shirt, and after wringing it out, approached the picket fence immediately inside of the stockade to hang it thereon to dry, and just as he was about to touch the fence he was pulled back by a comrade who saved his life-saved him from being cruelly murdered; for it was the dead line he was about to touch, a line upon which many a noble patriot Union soldier poured out his life blood. At one time while here they were compelled to be two and a half days without anything to eat. After remaining in the Macon stockade for some time the officers were separated from the men, and transferred to the city work-house and jail at Charleston, South Carolina, and while here they were continually under the fire of Gilmore's guns. On the 5th of October they were all moved to Columbia, South Carolina, with the exception of those who were sick, among which number was the gallant Lieutenant Fergus, who was suffering with the yellow fever. After long weary months of suffering known only to those who were the sufferers, Captain Roberts and a number of other officers made their escape from those wicked men who sought their lives. The story of the Captain's march from bondage to liberty would alone fill a good sized volume. Guided by the trusty negroes they traveled one hundred and eighty miles in ten nights, (lying in the swamps by day) and reached Sherman's army, seventy miles above Savannah, Georgia, December 5th.

The Captain remained with Kilpatrick's cavalry until the 12th of November, when he joined his regiment and company. Brave, self-sacrificing soldier, the story of your trials, the longings that were yours, the revolting scenes that met your eyes, and the feeling of joy that came to your heart when your eyes fell upon the old flag, will never be known to any save those who experienced like trials, who witnessed like scenes and felt like joys. We now think of those of our number who are yet suffering in southern prison pens, and we are informed that some of them have been freed from their suffering, have been starved, have been murdered. It cannot be that these brave men's sufferings and sorrows which they endured in this land of cruel wrongs will not be righted in the world beyond the stars. We could not believe in a heaven if we should lose the faith that these men's wrongs will be made right above.

For

December 20th.-After the fall of Fort McAllister, we obtain some supplies, but for the seventy thousand hungry soldiers they soon run out. the last week the troops have been subsisting upon corn and rice, the rice being obtained from the shocks in the swamps, and hulled out by the soldiers. Everything in the country for fifty miles around has been foraged. The army is still investing Savannah-the siege still going on. It will be over soon however, as a great battle will be fought where Count Pulaski's Monument stands; for Sherman's army is now in a good condition to sweep Savannah from the earth. The next forty-eight hours will tell the tale.

December 21st.-This morning we walk through the Seventh's camp, and everywhere we see the men with their clubs hulling out rice; this is all they have, but they are in fine spirits, all seem firm; seem confident and hopeful that this the most daring march in the military history of the nineteenth century, will be successful.

December 22d.-Last night Savannah was evacuated-her power yielded. The grand army is tramping now. Soon Sherman's terrible battle-flag will be flying beneath the shades of Bonniventure, where the chivalric knights have so often rehearsed their gallant deeds to the South's fair ones. With drums beating and colors flying we enter a fallen city. Our work in this campaign is done. We behold rebellion dying. The tramp of armies; the burning of cities; the destruction of railroads, have ruined Georgia. Such destruction and desolation never before followed in the wake of armies. tory has never recorded a parallel. Sherman was terrible, severe, unmerciful. But his severity and unmercifulness have stamped his name high upon the "Table Rock of immortality" as the boldest, most fearless and most consummate leader of the nineteenth century, and second to none in the world. In the language of a Soldier Poet,

Proud was our army that morning,

When Sherman said, "boys, you areweary,

But to-day fair Savannah is ours."

Then sang we a song to our chieftain,

That echoed over river and lea;

And the stars in our banner shown brighter,
When Sherman marched down to the Sea.

His

CHAPTER XVII.

Major Johnson on the flanks of the army-Stopping all night with an old planter-Lieutenant Flint's poem-Our camp at Savannah-Fort Brown-Bonniventure-The wounded men ordered to Pocotaligo-Leaving Savannah-Crossing the Savannah River-Entering South Carolina-Crossing the swamps-Joining the Fifteenth Corps at Midway-Crossing the Edisto-Crossing the Congaree-In front of Columbia-Crossing the Soluda River-The surrender of Columbia-The burning of the cityThe march to Cheraw-Crossing the Pedee River-At Fayetteville, North Carolina-Crossing the Cape Fear River-The march to Bentonville-The battle of Bentonville-The march to Goldsboro-Camp at Goldsboro-Arrival of new companies -The consolidation.

During the siege of Savannah Major Johnson was off on the flanks of the army with the mounted portion of the regiment, scouting, foraging, doing outpost duty, and gathering up stragglers from their commands. After the fall of the city General Corse sends a dispatch ordering him to join his regiment. On the evening of the twenty-second he halts on a plantation near the Ogeechee River, and after camping his men, accompanied by Lieutenant S. F. Flint, he wends his way to the planter's mansion. It is now dark and raining. The Major knocks at the door, and after an assurance of friendship, they are received into the household. Their sabres' frightful clang grates harshly upon the ears of the inmatesan old man, woman and daughter-and for a while they seem frightened, but the gentlemanly demeanor

of the Major and Lieutenant soon wins their confidence, causing them to come to the conclusion that the Yankees were not the wild creatures they had been represented to be. The midnight hour approximating, they all retire, leaving the Major and Lieutenant the occupants of the parlor. In the morning, while all is quiet, they make their exit, leaving the following beautiful lines (written by the Lieutenant,)

in the clock:

Where the Savannas of the South

Spread out their golden breadths to sea,
The fearful tide of war has rolled

Around this lonely household tree.

I know the hearts that linger here,
Their broken hopes, their wounded pride,
Have felt what I may never feel,

Are tried as I have not been tried.

This aged man, this fair browed girl,
What wonder if they learn to blend
His memory with hate-the foe

Who might in peace have been their friend.

One common tongue, one blood, one God,
The God whose ways are dark, are ours;

And He can make war's blackened path,
Rustle with harvests-bloom with flowers.

And here before he seeks his rest,

The hated North-man bends his knee,
And prays, restore this household band-
As dear to them as mine to me;

Oh! let the fearful storm sweep by,

And spare this roof that sheltered me.