From Philadelphia, after enlisting, Charles Smedley was sent to Washington, and from thence to Front Royal, a small town west of the Blue Ridge, where the 90th Regiment was then encamped. He joined it just previous to the advance of our forces sent to intercept "Stonewall" Jackson, in his progress down the Shenandoah Valley. He continued with the regiment, and was with it up to the time of the second battle of Bull Run. For more than a week previous to this engagement, he had made application to be sent to the hospital, being weak and exhausted from disease. On the morning of the battle,[2] he declared he would not send in his application to be sent to the rear, because the impression might exist that he was trying to evade his duty in time of danger. By almost superhuman exertion he managed to go into the fight, but in the retreat of our forces, becoming fatigued and prostrated, he was compelled to remain in the rear, and the consequence was he fell into the hands of the enemy. In a few days he was paroled and forwarded to our lines, and then sent by the Federal authorities to Annapolis, Maryland. He arrived home on the 29th of October, 1862, and remained until the 18th of February, 1863, when he was regularly exchanged. Joining the regiment a second time, he continued with it over thirteen months. While in the service he participated in the battles of Cedar Mountain, second Bull Run, Rappahannock Station, Chancellorsville, Thoroughfare Gap, Gettysburg, and the Wilderness. In all these battles young Smedley performed his duty nobly. In the first day's fight at Gettysburg he narrowly escaped with his life--a ball grazing him on the neck and another on the hip. In the second and third day's fights the 90th Regiment was engaged on the memorable Cemetery ridge. After the defeat of the rebel hordes on the heights of Gettysburg, our army followed the remainder of the enemy's forces to the banks of the Rapidan. While encamped on this stream, the subject of our sketch received the sad news of affliction among "the loved ones at home." His mother, brother and sister being dangerously ill--the two former dying soon afterwards. From a letter written to his sister on the reception of the sad intelligence, we copy the following: "It is a great trial to me to have to be separated from you when I think of the present state of things. Perhaps all is for the best, and we should not complain. We are but poor creatures and must submit to the Almighty Ruler who holds our fate in the "hollow of his hand." In the language of the christian, "why should we not put our trust in Him, and pray for Him to bring us out of all our trials and afflictions?" Perhaps we have not been thankful enough for all the blessings we enjoy. Give my love to all my old friends. I often think of the many pleasant times we have had at home. I hope I may again have the pleasure of meeting you all there, and not say, as Byron, of home,