On the 19th of March, a sad accident occurred near the Orange and Alexandria Depot. The cars were thrown from the track, killing four soldiers instantly, and severely wounding several others, two of whom died before night, and one the next day, while others lingered a few days, suffering more than death, before it came for their relief. As soon as I heard of the accident, I hastened, with others, to the place, taking wine, lint, and bandages. Oh, shocking sight! There, in an open car, lay the mangled forms of the dead and wounded. As soon as possible, the wounded were removed to the nearest hospital and kindly cared for, but the greater part needed care only a short time.
A few days after this, I witnessed another distressing sight at Fairfax Seminary. A soldier of the Twenty-sixth Michigan was dying from bleeding at the nose, which had continued for several days. Every effort to check the flow of blood proved unavailing. It was pitiful to behold him. His face was of marble whiteness, while the red current issuing from both nostrils plainly indicated that the fountain of life would soon be dry, and so it was. The brother who had come to care for him returned with the lifeless form to a bereaved wife and three fatherless children.
Toward the last of the month, I received another box of goods from Ionia, and two from Jackson. In one of the latter was some clothing for myself; so I, as well as the soldiers, had reason for gratitude, which, I believe, on the part of neither was wanting.
The evening of the 31st, I attended a meeting at the Capitol. Admiral Foot—blessings on his memory—and “Andrew Johnson” were among the speakers. The address of each was characteristic of the man who delivered it. Admiral Foot, as might have been expected, recognized the hand of God in the war, and recommended the people to exercise more faith in his over-ruling providence, firmly believing that all would eventually work out, not only for God’s glory, but for the best interest of our country. Mr. Johnson spoke at length of the state of affairs in Tennessee, and of the nation generally. He believed in meting out to traitors their just deserts—that stern justice, without any sprinkling of mercy, should be the portion of their cup. A slight change in his policy since then!!! During the evening, President Lincoln, and several members of his cabinet, came in. As they entered, the audience rose to their feet; ladies waved their handkerchiefs, gentlemen threw up their hats, while cheer after cheer went up for our chieftain, which echoed and reverberated through the halls and great dome of the Capitol. Every heart seemed to beat in unison with the great heart of Abraham Lincoln, whose care-worn face too plainly told that it was not the weight of years, but the sorrows of a nation, which were bearing him down. None could look upon his sad countenance without feelings of pity and a willingness to share the responsibility which rested with such crushing weight upon his shoulders; and many were the expressions heard, like the following: “Poor Father Abraham!” “God bless him!” “Long live our President!”
It being too late to return to Alexandria after the close of the exercises, I improved the opportunity next day of visiting, with the rest of our party, some of the places of interest in Washington. We first went to the Navy Yard, where to me everything was new. We were shown through the different workshops where the deadly missiles of war, from the Minie-ball to the huge mortar-shells, were being rapidly manufactured to be sent upon their destructive mission. Among the many things of special interest were several pieces of cannon captured during the revolutionary war. We paid a short visit to the White House, but reserved the larger portion of our time to be spent at the Capitol. This magnificent building, with its seven hundred and fifty feet front, and covering an area of three and a half acres, is a grand spectacle. I care not for the mighty cathedrals of the Old World; here is beauty and sublimity combined—sublime in magnitude, and beautiful in its harmonious proportions.
Ascending the long flight of marble steps, we pause a moment in the eastern portico to reflect on the scenes which have there been enacted. This portico is, in the language of one, “the vestibule to the great political temple of the Union,” where all of our Presidents—from Jefferson down to our present incumbent, “A. J.”—have, in the presence of the assembled thousands, taken the oath of office administered by the Chief-Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. There were uttered those Christ-like words: “With malice toward none, with charity to all.” We pass from this portico into the rotunda, and spend a little time in admiring the elegant paintings which adorn its walls. The finest of these are, I think, the “Embarkation of the Pilgrims” and the “Baptism of Pocahontas;” but the most exquisite of all the paintings in the Capitol is the “Western Scene,” which would require weeks of study to be fully appreciated. The Senate-Chamber and House of Representatives are places of deep and thrilling interest. There were many vacant seats once occupied by men who had sworn to protect the Government against all enemies, foreign and domestic, but who, with violated oaths and perjured souls, went over to the ranks of treason. But neither paintings, nor statuary, nor elegant rooms attracted my attention more than those massive bronze doors, executed by Rogers, in Italy, at great expense and a vast amount of labor.
The 20th of April, the Twenty-sixth Michigan, according to orders, left Alexandria for the Peninsula. How much we missed them when they were gone, how sad we felt, and how we all cried when the boat shoved out from shore that was to bear them away to the field of strife! How long the injunction, “Take good care of Willie,” rang in my ears! How lonely that old building looked where Company “I” had been quartered! How deserted the old campground appeared, how anxiously we watched for any intelligence from the Twenty-sixth, and how frequently letters were received, ending with “Pray for me,” and how often and earnestly we did pray that they might all be kept from falling in the fierce conflict; but, if fall they must, that they might be made meet for the kingdom of heaven.
Their sick were left at Alexandria. I had something over a hundred names of my list belonging to this regiment. A large number were very ill, and many of them soon went to their long home. Oh, what a long array of those poor sufferers pass before me in imagination as I write! There is one delirious with fever; he is constantly talking of home and mother.
“My mother, dear mother, with weak, tearful eye,
Farewell, and God bless you forever and aye;