We took a stroll over the battle-ground, and saw the deep furrows plowed by the terrible shells, in which a horse might be buried. Here and there were interspersed "rebel rat-holes," as they were called, dug seven or eight feet deep, and nearly covered with planks and two or three feet of earth, in which they dropped themselves, after firing, to reload and be secure from flying shot and shell. I picked up a couple of cannon-balls about the size of a small tea-cup, of which a peck is used for a load. An officer told me that he saw twenty-five rebels killed with one discharge of these balls. O, what slaughter of human life! Government provided a physician and dispensary for the freed people. Their hospital was a tent, like the majority of the regimental hospitals in the army. The first tent I visited was occupied by an aged pair, with two grown children, who appeared quite intelligent. Hard treatment and cruel separations had filled the greater portion of their lives. As I was making remarks on the wickedness of slavery, said the old man, with tearful eyes, "Please stop till I bring in my daughter and family from the next tent." They soon entered. "Please go on," said the father. While tears were coursing down the old man's furrowed cheeks, in undertone he ejaculated, "O Lord, I did not expect to live to see this day." At the close of my remarks he arose to his feet, and in the most pathetic manner addressed his family as follows: "My wife and children, have you thought we should ever see this? I fear we are not thankful enough to God. Do we prize this precious privilege as we ought? That dear wife was sold from me nearly twenty years ago; soon after my children were sold, and I thought my heart was broke. They punished me because I grieved so much, and then sold me to be taken another way. O, how I prayed for death to hide me from my troubles, for I thought none could see as much as I did. Many gloomy nights and days of sorrow I spent. I could hear no word from my wife, and nothing from my children. My master told me I should never hear from them again, because I made so much trouble over it; he would send me as far as wind and water would carry me, so I would never hear from them again. I remembered the words of my poor old father upon his death-bed, when he gave me this Bible: 'My son, the same God that made that Bible learned me to read it, and learned me to endure hard trials patiently. Remember, my son, the same God will do the same for you if you go to him for help;' and so he has. Praise be to the Lord forever!" He took from a box a Bible, all spotted over with mold, without and within: "This Bible has been manna to my soul for many years. God has learned me to read, as he did my poor father. He has been my support. I have prayed these many years for deliverance from bondage, and my faith told me it would come; but I didn't know it would come in my time. O, what a Savior is our Jesus! That dear wife was compelled to marry