It was nearly dark when we entered the town; and, halting in one of the streets to await orders, the troops stretched themselves upon the ground to rest their weary limbs. Having some acquaintances in the place, and feeling rather hungered, I suggested to Colonel Herbert that we should go up to Will’s hotel, where I thought we could procure some refreshments; but upon reaching the place we found it closed and apparently deserted. Returning, I met a gentleman whom I had known in former years—Mr. Henry Stahle, editor and proprietor of a Democratic paper there—and we entered into conversation upon topics entirely foreign to the war. A crowd of gaping citizens soon surrounded us, and imagining Mr. Stahle was hatching treason, forthwith reported him to the authorities. Now, as Mr. Stahle had been suspected of being a copperhead for some time, owing to the manly and independent tone of his paper, his being seen in company with a rebel officer was proof positive, and when our forces fell back he was handed over to the tender mercies of General Morris, of Fort McHenry notoriety. I trust the reader will excuse this little digression, but I thought the incident worth mentioning. About nine o’clock we received orders to “forward,” and, passing through the town, struck the York turnpike, which was pursued for a mile, when we filed to the right and marched across the open country until we neared the Hanover road, when the command “on right by file into line” was given, (for we had been marching right in front,) and the Second Maryland Infantry took its place in the line of battle, where so many of the noble spirits who composed it were to bleed and die in the dreadful conflict about to ensue. CHAPTER VI. That night the troops slept upon their arms, prepared to resume hostilities or repel an attack at a moment’s notice. Colonel Herbert and myself selected a spot somewhat retired from the main body, and, after picketing the horses, laid ourselves down to sleep. To sleep, did I say? To rest I should have said, for it was many hours ere I closed my eyes in sleep. A thousand recollections of the past presented themselves. I thought of home and the loved ones there; of many incidents attending the two eventful years of carnage and bloodshed through which I had been spared where so many died. Truly God had been merciful, and I offered up a silent prayer that I might survive the fight of the coming morrow. And then I thought of the hundreds around me who were taking their last sleep save that which knows no waking; of those in dream, dreaming of their once happy homes, of wives and children, of fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and sweethearts, but to awake in the morning only to the dread reality. At early dawn I arose from my blanket hungry and unrefreshed. The Colonel appeared in the same condition, for after rubbing his eyes and looking around him for a minute he broke forth with: