Ere the morning’s dawn he was enrolled in the army of the “Boys in White.” Upon one of my visits to the Paper Mill Hospital I found seventy men who had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours. Although late in the afternoon, I promised the “boys” that they should have something to eat before I slept that night; so hurrying home I made farina and corn-starch puddings for these seventy hungry men. But, before returning to the hospital, rations had been issued, which, together with the puddings, they declared just made a good meal. At that late day I knew of no excuse for being short of government rations, and there must have been great neglect on the part of some one; though when we first occupied Fredericksburg it was almost impossible to procure transportation sufficient to convey supplies from Belle Plain, a distance of twelve miles from the city, and twenty-five or thirty from the army. Much suffering and many deaths were the unavoidable result. Presently it began to be rumored that the city was about to be evacuated. It was thought by many that either Bowling Green or Port Royal would be the new base of operations--though all was conjecture. But soon the order to evacuate was received; consequently our supplies, not yet disposed of, were packed, transportation procured, passes obtained, and everything put in readiness for a move. Wednesday, the 25th of May, all the Michigan delegation, except myself, went on board transports bound for Washington. As I had a promise of transportation to the “new base,” I greatly preferred going there to returning to Washington. Our tent hospitals were not broken up until the 27th, though the last of the wounded (in the city) were removed the 25th. That morning I visited the Amputation Hospital--so called from the fact that nearly all the wounded there had been subjected to the amputating knife. This, I believe, was the last hospital in the city broken up. Most of the patients in it at this time were from Michigan. Among the number was a brave Indian chief, who had received a mortal wound, and died soon after arriving at Washington. The others, as far as I know, recovered. The afternoon of the same day I made another visit to our tent hospitals, taking sundry articles for distribution, among which was a bottle of sherry brandy, for Mr. Waters, who, I knew, would greatly need stimulants during his tedious journey to Washington. That day I took my farewell leave of him. In one of the wards was a man in the agonies of death, alone and unconscious. Taking a fan, I stood by his cot and brushed away the flies, which were buzzing and swarming around him like bees. But the struggle was soon over; he died without returning to consciousness. I deeply regretted afterwards that I did not obtain the address of some member of his family, and write the anxiously awaiting friends, whose dreadful suspense, perhaps, was not relieved until the official announcement of his death reached them.