Crossing at Berlin.
All night long a steady stream of men poured over, cheering lustily as they reached the opposite shore. The Thirty-third marched over the bridge about six o’clock in the morning (Monday), and passing through Lovettsville, encamped about ten miles from the river. The route lay through a most fertile and productive region, which had not been ravaged by either army, and the boys, with Stuart’s raid fresh in their minds, foraged on an unparalleled scale. Unmindful of Gen. McClellan’s order against “jayhawking,” they scoured over the adjoining farms, and from every direction were heard, through the stillness of the night, the piercing wail of expiring pork, the plaintive lowing of stricken bovine, or suppressed cry of unfortunate gallinaceous. No details of guards were made to protect the rebel inhabitants, as was the case on the Peninsula, and the next day found many of the men mounted upon horses and loaded down with booty of every description. Not far from this camp was the scene of Lieutenant-Colonel McVicar’s brilliant exploit, where, a few days before, he had gallantly led a charge upon the enemy. He rode far in advance of the charging party, captured several prisoners, and, in addition to having his horse shot under him, received five bullets through his clothing. One of the captured horses was presented to him by the commander of the expedition, and since his death has been sent home to his widow at Rochester.
Tuesday we resumed the march at daylight, and proceeding fifteen miles, near by a Quaker settlement, encamped beyond Union. With hardly an exception, these Friends have remained staunch Unionists, and, what is more, have not hesitated to proclaim their anti-slavery sentiments when the rebel minions have been all around them.
Mr. Yardly Taylor, the leading man in the society, is widely known among the Quakers of the Northern States. He possessed a magnificent estate, beautified with groves, arbors, gravel walks, and gardens abounding in every variety of exotics. We found him a very genial, affable gentleman, upwards of 60 years of age, and willing to do anything for the Federal soldiers. This Union settlement was like an oasis in the desert of rebellion.
The road from Union to Philamount presented numerous evidences of the severe cavalry fights which had taken place between Gens. Pleasanton and Stuart. There were also several Federal and Rebel wounded scattered among the farm-houses. A few fresh graves were likewise observed. We remained in camp until two o’clock, Wednesday afternoon, and then marched five miles to a point, where the various columns of the army could be seen, extending up and down the valley for many miles, and presenting a fine spectacle. Heavy cannonading was heard all day from the front.
Thursday we marched seven miles more. As we proceeded further into Virginia, the country grew very desolate, exhibiting all the ravages and evils of war. Gens. Geary and Blenker with his German Division, had both been through here in the spring, and the rebel army had since come along and destroyed what they left. It seemed as though the hand of the destroying angel had swept over the land, withering as it went.
Owing, however, to the absence of nearly all the men in the army, the game in this region had not been hunted down, and was found in abundance. The fur, fin and feather tribes held almost undisputed sway in the forests and streams.
Friday we marched at 6 A. M., and arriving at White Plains, waited for supplies. A dreary snowstorm prevailed all day, covering the ground to the depth of several inches. Many of the men, who had imprudently thrown away their overcoats or blankets, suffered severely from the cold.
The intelligence received on Saturday, that Gen. McClellan had been removed, added still more to the gloom. The order for his removal reached his headquarters at Rectortown, a small village to the right of White Plains, about 11 o’clock on the previous evening. Gen. Gorman and several members of his staff were present at the time. He continued conversing in a cheerful manner, and was apparently the least affected one of the number. Gen. Burnside, to whom the command was turned over, soon made his appearance, and spent the greater portion of the night in consultation with him, after which Gen. McClellan penned the following farewell address to his troops: