The dawn of the morning of the 11th was calm and peaceful, but to us every breeze seemed laden with sighs from some stricken heart. Little Minnie gathered a bouquet of flowers to send to “dear papa,” and every blossom was a wish that he might come home. At nine o’clock sister and I bade adieu to friends, and in Ionia village we were joined by Mrs. Peck, the sister of my brother’s wife, who was starting to Washington to care for her wounded husband. Off at two o’clock. Soon the enterprising little town of Ionia is lost in the distance. Familiar objects fade from our view, and all becomes new and strange--as this is my first ride over the Detroit and Milwaukee Railroad. The scenery is rather monotonous along the line of the road--the country most of the way being new--though every few miles we pass thriving little villages which have sprung up within a few years as if by magic, and which northern industry and enterprise will soon convert into fine cities, and those dismal swamps and marshes into beautiful meadow lands. At Detroit we take the steamer “May Queen,” bound for Cleveland. The evening is delightful. The stars one by one shine forth from the blue canopy above, and their gentle light is reflected from the blue expanse below; and while we gaze, the full-orbed moon emerges from the waters, and, “blending her silvery light with that of her sister stars,” adds new lustre to the scene. At eight o’clock we leave the shores of Michigan, and are soon plowing our way through the blue waters of Lake Erie. How pleasantly and quickly would have passed the hours of that long night, were it not for the sad mission upon which we were going. The battle-field with its thousands of mangled forms, the dead and the dying, and all the horrors connected with such scenes of carnage, are spread out before us. These, with the conflicting hopes and fears, which alternately take possession of our hearts, banish “tired nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.” We land in Cleveland at 5 A. M., purchase tickets for Washington via Philadelphia. After four weary hours of waiting, we find ourselves comfortably seated in the cars, and are hurried on toward our destination. We arrive at Pittsburg at 2 P. M., where we change cars, and hasten away, leaving the dingy, smoke-wreathed city in the distance.