The children and I spent a delightful time, as I remember well, on the 26th of April, 1864, reading the glorious accounts in the papers of the grand march, the day before, past the White House at Washington, of the mighty army destined for the conquest of Virginia, and the destruction of the entire slave-holders’ rebellion. That never-to-be-forgotten show-day was indeed one of the red-letter days for the army of the Union, among whom were thousands of colored soldiers who marched gaily past, and hurrahed lustily for "Father Abraham," who was smiling down upon them from the balcony of the White House. Although they were not yet declared American citizens, still these brave young men were going to fight for the star-spangled banner. They had often heard the name of Abraham Lincoln, but this was the first time they ever saw him, and they swung their caps around their heads, clapped their hands, and shouted aloud for joy, "Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for Mr. Lincoln! Three cheers for the President!" Long and loud were the rejoicings, as regiment after regiment marched past; powerful, enthusiastic men, who were once slaves, but now freemen, with steady step and even ranks moved in splendid order down the street past the White House on their venturesome way to the seat of war. The President had never seen a general review of colored troops before, but he was greatly pleased, indeed, and heartily acknowledged their enthusiastic shouts by bowing and waving his hand to them, and making himself agreeable and pleasant to them, as they marched past. Thus the whole army under review passed on, crossed "yon long bridge" over the Potomac river, and entered the State of Virginia. Poor, brave fellows! Many of them never returned alive, but they were the bravest of the brave, and performed their glorious mission.