After one of my visits to these depots of misery, I went out in company with Mrs. May and daughters to General Berry’s Brigade, encamped near Munson’s Hill, a few miles from Alexandria. I found several of my former friends and school-mates, while others, alas! were missing. Where were “Eldred,” and “Birge,” and “Woodward?” Had they, too, gone to swell the ranks of the “Boys in White?” Ah! yes; young Birge, the Christian boy, was sleeping at Fair Oaks; Woodward, only a few weeks before, closed his eyes in death at Fairfax Seminary; and Eldred--the gifted, the pride of his class--at Georgetown. They left their books and college halls for the camp, the bivouac, the battle-field, and a soldier’s grave. “Let them rest, the fight is over, And the victory bravely won; Softly wrap their banner round them, Lay them low, their work is done.” One Lord’s Day, while visiting my brother’s grave, I witnessed, for the first time, a soldier’s burial; and a more solemn scene my eyes had never beheld. The lone ambulance, the plain coffin, the sad strains of music, the slow tread of the escort, the salute fired over the grave, the absence of all mourning friends, rendered the scene peculiarly solemn and impressive! Who would believe that the human heart could ever become so lost to all feelings of humanity as to rejoice and exult over the sufferings and death of even an enemy? And yet I was told by the Rev. Mr. Reid that he had seen those calling themselves ladies dance to the tune of the “Dead March,” and clap their hands and exclaim, “Good, good! there goes another Yankee!” on seeing a soldier’s funeral procession passing slowly to the city of the dead. This seems almost incredible, but Mr. R.’s word is unimpeachable. Rebel women there were exceedingly bitter toward the North--that “Hydra-headed monster,” Secession, being the great object of their worship. All the finer feelings and tender sympathies of woman’s nature seem to have given place to malignant hate and fiend-like cruelty. I devoted my time evenings to cooking and preparing things for distribution at the hospitals next day. The 24th inst. I went to Camp Convalescent with forty-two pies and several gallons of sauce. The boys seemed to think a piece of dried-apple-pie, however plain, one of the greatest luxuries they ever enjoyed. The moment it was known there were pies in camp our ambulance would be surrounded, and we, the occupants, literally taken prisoners; some begging for themselves, others for a sick comrade who was unable to leave the quarters. At such times how earnestly I have wished that the miracle of the “loaves and fishes” might be repeated.