24th New York Infantry Regiment's Civil War Newspaper Clippings

September 18, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
A night on picket duty. It was not late in the afternoon of the 16th when Major Tarbell came to me and requested that I should take two or three good trusty fellows and take a position on the right of our pickets, near the railroad, from which we could watch any attempt of the enemy to cut off our outposts. I selected Durfee, Whitney, and my brother Vesp.  (as we call him,) whom I knew to be sharp shooters and, trusty. In a few minutes we were ready for duty, and reported to the Major for orders, which he gave us in about these words: "Be cautious, boys, and watchful. Learn the position of the enemy as well as you can without discovering to them your own. And by all means, don't fire unless you see a rebel force advancing or manoeuvering [sic] to cut off our pickets." We bowed as he bade us "Be careful," and were soon wending our way alone the road toward the outposts. We passed picket alter picket, stationed along the road to telegraph danger or attack from the front to the rear. It was about 8 o'clock when we came to a woods, which lead far off to the right. We left the road here, and turned aside into the woods. We wished to take a direction between south and west, and the edge of the woods was favorable. We advanced at first somewhat carelessly, becoming more and more cautious as we proceeded. The moon was just above the horizon, and broad streams of  its soft tender light came flooding through avenues among the branches of those great oaks, and fell across our pathway.

"The dews of summer night did fall;
The moon, sweet regent of the sky,
Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall,
And many an oak that grew thereby."

It was beautiful to stand there, in the shade of a sage oak of centuries' growth, and look into the deepness of the forest, all checkered with light and shade. It seemed a fitting place for the wood nymphs to hold their midnight orgies and do homage to their goddess. And as here and there we stepped into some broad flame of moonlight, each bayonet glistened for a moment and then melted into the next broad shadow.—Still we moved quietly on, while ever and anon some dry twig crackling beneath footfall, made us halt till it settled into silence.
An old deserted dwelling happened in our pathway, which in daylight we might have passed without giving it a notice; but there, that night, on  the edge of the forest, with the moonbeams falling on it through the tall trees that stood beside it, I confess I did not near it without a flutter of the heart, and yet it was not a flutter of fear. It was one of those wild thrills that leap through one's heart at times, which seemingly have no cause. We approached it and looked through the doorway. It reminded me of Byron's thought, when, after viewing through "the rents of ruins in the Coliseum wall, the trees waving in the blue midnight," he says:

"And thou didst shine, thou rolling moon upon all this—
And did'st cast a wide and tender light which softened down
The hear austerity of rugged desolation."

We passed out into an open space near a sort of brushwood fence, which turned a little southard. We followed it till we came to the rail road, and then we thought we had advanced far enough. We knew that our pickets were on our left and front, and that the enemy's pickets were near us. We centrously selected a favorable spot on a woody knoll near the road where we concluded to post ourselves for the night. During all this time scarcely a word had been spoken, and nothing above a whisper. Whispers! How they fall on one's ears on such an occasion! As though the soul were loaded with some dark secret that it does not utter audibly. We threw down our blankets and haversacks, but we didn't feel, safe till we had surveyed our position and knew exactly where we were. So, Whitney and myself shouldered our rifles again and started out to reconnoiter, leaving Durfee and Vesp. (as we call him) to keep a bright look out in our rear. We passed round the knoll into a corn field, and creeping cautiously through it, (which was a matter of the greatest difficulty, for ever and anon one of us would strike a corn stalk, and the sound seemed to fly a mile,) we came to a farm house. We passed this, proceeding down a hill into a peach orchard on the opposite side. We came to a tree with some fine soft ones on, and we thought it no stealing to eat one or two ourselves, and carry a few to our fellow pickets. Then passing a little southward, we came round to the knoll again and reported all clear, though oft we had stopped and heard, 
"The airy tongues that syllable men's names
In pathless wildernesses."
We found Vesp. with his rifle at "a charge," ready to receive us, with bayonet and bullet if we came too close and were found not to have the countersign, while Durfee had taken position in a chestnut tree near by, from which he could see the country south and west for almost a mile.—
He had arranged two pieces of coil in the top of the tree, where he could sit leisurely and watch. They shared our peaches in silence or melancholy whispers.
From the position we had, it was not necessary that more than one should watch at a time. So we arranged it to take turns in watching from the top of the chestnut tree.
I threw myself down on my India rubber blanket and spread my great shawl over me; but I also took my rifle on the same blanket and under the same cover with me. It is amazing how one will hug his gun at such a time as this! It becomes the dearest of bed fellows—the most interesting of companions.
I had scarcely entered dream land, when a volley of musketry, apparently about two miles to our left and near Munson's Hill, started me to my feet, and immediately the alarm guns telegraphed to headquarters. Have you ever heard an alarm of chain pickets? It is worth all the hardships of a campaign to hear such an one as we heard that night. There was a regular chain of pickets from Bailey's Cross Roads in a southwesterly direction as far as Throgmorton's Hill, a distance of about two and a half miles; thence taking an easterly direction toward Washington, but terminating at the reserve picket guard, stationed at Ball's Cross Roads. These pickets are placed at intervals of four or five hundred yards, and their business is to communicate any alarm or hostile movement of the enemy, to the reserves, by firing, one after another, at intervals of about twenty seconds, regularly along the line, begin­ning where the attack is made or danger appears. I jumped to my feet, and immediately the alarm guns wended their way along the frontier line, be­ginning near Bailey's Cross Roads, turning almost at right angle, following the road down the hill —crack—crack—across the east road about a half mile below where we were stationed, up the hill on the other side, and away off till they died in the distance toward Ball's Roads. 
I stood still a moment to see whether the firing continued, but all was so still that I tried to hold my breath, lest my breathing might be heard. I was in doubt what to do. We were half a mile from where the alarm had crossed the railroad, and the pickets on the lines had not given the alarm. I thought they must have retreated in silence, and left us to work our own way out. I left two of the boys, and accompanied by the other one, I proceeded cautiously in the shadow of the woods towards the rail road crossing.—The first station of pickets were in the same suspense, the second were ditto: at the third the mystery was solved; the pickets of this post were all asleep. Here the telegraph was broken, and we were left exposed through their neglect. By the articles of war, their lives were in our hands. Their's was a grievous offence. We wakened the boys, and warned them of the dire consequences of their neglect. And I think after last night's experiences they will be better and more faithful soldiers. The alarm proved to be a false one and we returned to our post. It was Durfee's trick to watch, and I threw .... around without the least anxiety, for I knew that the enemy must be invisible who could approach very near without his knowing it. He was with Scott in his Mexican campaigns and learned under him, in those, his palmy days, the duties of a soldier.
I had slept perhaps an hour, when Durfee came and touched me softly, and beckoned me to listen. Footsteps were distinctly heard approaching.—Wee four were soon wide awake; the trampling sounded nearer; a body of the enemy were coming; this we marked as certain. Our rifles looked through the bushes in that direction, and come what might, we resolved to count their number if we could; and then, when the figures of men grew more and more distinct, Whiting said his gun was "getting mighty anxious."
Thus we stood in breathless silence, just waiting till we could each "select our man." And what was our chagrin when a sudden flame of moonlight revealed a dozen dark faces, of all ages, sizes and sexes. They each had bundles on their backs and under their arms, and the velocity with which they were moving inclined them forward at an angle of about forty degrees.
The first knowledge they had of our presence was such a grim "halt" from one of the boys, as seemed to straighten their forms and turn their hair white. The foremost one was a tall, bony woman, who reached one hand down to hurry along a little girl, while the other embraced a bundle. She stood speechless, while the other women and men cried out—"Lord, massas, don't shoot! don't shoot!"
We heard their story and let them pass. But were I a sculptor or a painter and could reproduce in marble or on canvass that tall, dark woman, I'd call her the Giant Goddess of Sorrow.
The rest of the night was passed in quietness. We breakfasted on our meat and crackers, and during the morning Durfee entertained us with stories of our Chieftain General's brilliant achievements on the plains of Mexico, and often did he wish that he could see the old General ride along the lines once more as of old, that he could once more hear him give the word, "Onward, to the breach or the battery or the heights." But the wish is vain. The waters that were fabled to give perpetual growth, live only in mythology, and time writes alike its heavy hand on the chieftain's brow and brain, as on the humblest peasant's.
Thus, with many a good story, the forenoon passed away quietly, and we were relieved at noon by a party of the Thirteenth. 
We arrived in camp safely with the rich experience of one night on picket. 

Utica Morning Herald. AND DAILY GAZETTE.
From the Twenty-Fourth (Oswego) Regiment.
ARLINGTON MILLS. VA., August 24th, 1961,
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald.
It has been so long since I have seen a Utica MORNING HERALD, that I really have an intense curiosity to read "the latest by telegram" from its columns, just to see how I would feel after it. Long, I said, perhaps it is not very long when measured by almanacs, old clocks or daily issues; but I seem to have unconsciously adopted other meters of time, as, for instance, good breakfasts, which come at distant intervals, little skirmishes which happen here and there, and nights without alarm, which are "few and far between;" and measuring time by these, it seems a long time since I have seen a copy of your paper. And this afternoon I have so little to do, or rather so little that I will do, that I find myself sitting in the shade of a large Virginia oak (perhaps one of the F. F. V.'s) with a copy of the Atlantic Monthly near me, which I have read and reread till I have almost fallen in love with little Agnes of Sorrento, and methinks if I could see here at the orange stand this afternoon, I'd contrive to send old Elsie away, just that I might kiss Agnes once. But I have not only read Mrs. Stowe's story, "There are Things Slowly Learnt," and "The Rose Enthroned," and this last title, I confess, was a poser for me, and the poem not less than the title. I have read and re read it, and I can't find out what it means. I have tried Dr. Hickok's National Cosmology, to see if that would explain it, and then Paley's Natural Theology, but neither of these will lead me into its meaning, and I have laid it on the table till the weather gets cooler, and, my head clearer.—And by the way, you will see by these titles that the Atlantic before me is the June number—my latest. I subscribed for it for the year, and I presume my July and August numbers are waiting for me in some Post office, but I don't know where, and I can't cross the Long Bridge to get other copies; and I am left this warm, sunny, eighth of August afternoon, with this June number as my all and latest. I have no other reading matter just at hand; in fact, there are no very extensive libraries convenient to our camp at present, and I find many an hour longer than it would be if I could get hold of some favorite author.
You or some one else may think it strange that one can't find  employment enough here without books, but although we are the advance guard, we see but little of the enemy; now and then a party of skirmishers make their appearance, but this lasts only for a moment, and we are left to our own musings, and as for perusing Scott or Hardee, or that other compilation, when the mercury stands at a hundred Fah. in the shade, I confess I'm not equal to the task. One of the greatest evils of this kind of life is, that men let loose every restraint, and forget that though in war, they are men with a personal and national character to sustain. Cards is the commonest amusement, and swearing, one would think from its prevalence, is the greatest luxury. I indulge in neither of these, and for this reason I am left oftentime to count my own fingers (not some one else's,) or contemplate the horrors of war. Memory is a grateful blessing here, though, for I sometimes call up the days gone by, or repeat to myself the Greek alphabet, and think of the friends left behind me, especially one. But curiosity to see one of your papers has, just now, got the better of all these, and I can't do anything till I write and get you to send me a copy, and if I like it as well as I used to, maybe I'll subscribe for it for a year or six months, more or less.
My address may be divided into several parts. In the first place, "24th Regiment N. Y. S. V." is a part of it, because that is the number of our Regiment. We were snugly encamped on Meridian Hill on Sunday, July 21st, when orders came for us to hold ourselves in readiness to move at a moment's notice. We packed up immediately, and thought we would be off before dinner. The moving order did not come, and we thought we were in for another night in camp. We heard the booming of distant guns at intervals during the day, but when we received orders that night to cross the river, we did not know what "had turned up." But when, along with our orders to move, came also orders to proceed to the armory and change our old Harper's Ferry muskets for bran-new Enfield rifles, we knew there must be something up; otherwise the rifles would have been in the armory for months, and we would have gone to battle with almost useless muskets. So, about twelve (midnight) we fell in and marched to the armory, about three miles distant, changed our guns, and then marched back to camp, making a distance of six miles, and after taking breakfast, we were ready a little after daylight, with two days rations and forty rounds of cartridges, to go where we were needed. It began to rain about this time, a slow, drizzling, continuous rain, lasting unceasingly all the day. The boys were all in high spirits, for we did not know the story of Bull's Run, and we thought we were going straight to Manassas. We passed down 14th street, and as we neared the Avenue and passed Willard's, the throng in the street and the attention directed to us struck us as strange in a place where regiments and brigades had passed and repassed daily for many weeks; and many were the "God bless you, boys," and few were the smiles. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs in token of recognition, but I do not remember of seeing a single lady smile, and I saw a man, I think a Congressman, step from the sidewalk and grasp Lieut.-Col. Beardsley by the hand as he rode by, and look in his face with a strange emotion. He said something, but I didn't hear it. Our march from there became funereal.
The gloomy faces of the crowd seemed to cast a shadow on the merry spirits of the regiment. Washington was pale, very pale, and her pallor made us quiet through sympathy. After we passed the canal bridge, some of the boys struck up the Star Spangled Banner, but it was not contagious, and soon died away into silence. It was raining, and there was a sort of something that whispered bad news, but still a majority of us knew nothing of its real nature. The first thing that made a forcible impression on me, was a four-horse regimental wagon, on the canvas covering of which was marked 2d N. H. V.—There was an air of defeat about that wagon that told me almost the whole secret. I saw it in the driver's face, in the jaded horses, in the half dozen soldiers that showed their heads fore and aft. And from that time began that Monday's march, a march which we will never forget, and those of us who live to see home again, will have nothing on which we will dwell with greater interest, even should we pass through several campaigns and many battles. To advance in the face of a great army of Americans retreating, was never the lot of any regiment before, if I remember correctly, (for American armies have seldom retreated,) and we have no desire to have such a march again, not because of the march in itself, or the rain, or any fear, but to see our brothers retreating in such a way, is a sorrier sight than we wish to see again. 
I have not time to tell of that day's march. I do not want to tell of it. Suffice it to say that we crossed the Long bridge, ... hill and by the entrenchments, where ... three mammoth guns which spread an. ... consolation on the desolation around us. Far as we could see the road was lined with ... and soldiers, each hurrying to s... ... safety. Still our Colonel gave the word "forward," and we promptly though not cheerfully (it was no time for cheer,) obeyed. Every straggling soldier had his story to tell us, and many were the times we heard "You'll soon be glad to get back!" After proceeding about six miles we came to a halt, and loaded our pieces, and then throwing two companies forward as skirmishers, we proceeded again. We did not know what moment we would come in contact with the ...
—Moses Summers, of the Syracuse Standard, went to Washington to visit the Onondaga regiment, but was refused a pass over the river. He smuggled himself over in an ambulance, and is sending home interesting letters. He describes the condition of the Onondagas as deplorable.—They are on the verge of mutiny, discontented and spiritless. Mr. Summers tells a different story of the 24th regiment, as follows:
I visited the Oswego camp yesterday, and had a pleasant time with Col. Sullivan, Lieut. Col. Beardsley, Capts. O'Brien and Miller, Chaplain Gallagher, Major Tarbell, Sutler Schwartz, and a host of other officers and privates with whom I had the pleasure of an acquaintance. Their camp is located very pleasantly on the bank of the Potomac, on a slight declivity, in full view of Washington, and about a mile from our camp. The Oswego camp appears like a perfect Paradise, and the men act as if they were engaged in a picnic party. Everybody was jolly and happy, and nothing but enjoyment was visible. The scene presents a heart sickening contrast with the camp of the Onondagas, and yet there is no reason why both should not be equally pleasant.
It is laughingly said that the only company in the Army of the Potomac that can eat all their rations is one connected with the Oswego regiment and commanded by Capt. O'Brien! But it is also understood that this company can fight as voraciously as they can eat. The regiment are all handsomely uniformed and furnished with the best Enfield rifles, and a large supply of new clothing is in camp which they have no need for.

Sept. 28th, 1861,
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
Yesterday, we had an inspection of arms, accoutrements and clothing, by Gen. McDowell.—We were just preparing for dress parade in the evening when a messenger rode up to our camp. In less than thirty minutes afterwards our regiment was in line, in light marching order, which means with blankets and one day's rations. We gave three cheers for the marching orders, and started. Most of us were ignorant of our destination or of what was to be done, and most of us did not care, so that it was advancing.
When we wound up the hill toward Arlington House, it was just dusk. The band was playing, colors flying, and the boys in the best of spirits. As we moved along the narrow winding path, with vast abattis of fallen trees on either side, the line resembled a monster serpent, bristling with steely scales, dragging its lengthy self along. It began to be whispered among the boys that Munson's Hill was occupied by the Massachusetts Twelfth, and that we were going to support them in case of an attack, but a hundred other stories flew along the line, and we were left to wonder and wait. Pretty soon we met a regiment coming back from the scene of our expedition. It proved to be the Thirty-Third Pennsylvania, under Col. Black, who in his eagerness to lead his fifteen hundred Pittsburghers to the field of action, had mistaken his route, and he was now going back to take another road.
At Ball's Cross Roads our brigade halted for a moment, and while we were there the Eighteenth Massachusetts boys passed us. They said they were going "to Manassas to take the cars there for Richmond;" a little adventure which I quietly thought might prove to be more merrily said than done. But what they said they were going to do. They have the will and the pluck to try, though they may be a day or two in getting through. In a few minutes the word "forward" come down along the ranks, and the "march" that followed it set us in motion. The march was very slow. Artillery wagons rattling over the stony road in our front made us feel all the safer for their presence. After proceeding about a mile and a half beyond the Cross Roads we had orders to halt and load our pieces.
It was then about half-past 9 o'clock. The sight was beautiful—not a cloud was to be seen; but while I looked, a sudden small dark cloud, shaped like a scorpion shot above the horizon in the south-east, and moved westward. I thought at first, it was some dark spirit winging its way through the beautiful heavens, seeking what it might destroy. But it could not long endure the brilliant vigor of those twinkling September stars. As it crossed the "milky-way" it disappeared, and I saw it no more. And then I thought it must be the evil angel of the dark rebellion that disgraces the clear heavens of our country's existence. Its rise and progress were like the rebellion's, and I hoped their disappearance might be similar, and their ends the same. But Major Torbell's command of "attention" broke in upon my musings, and the column began to move. All talking died away as we moved down the hill toward the railroad, and there was nothing heard but the steady tramp of men—the rumbling of wheels, and the stroke of the axemen far in advance, clearing the road which the rebels had blockaded with fallen trees. It was a beautiful sight to stand at the top of the hill and watch the dark mass in the deep shade of the woods, move down into that dark hollow. It wins one nearer to the whole race, to thus mingle with men who have hearts strong enough to leave the sweet comforts of home and the luxury of friends, and partake of such midnight emotions, and face dangers even unto death. 
One learns to look upon men far differently, and to love even those whom he once could scarcely recognize as brethren of the same humanity. 
But perhaps the incidents of the night would be more interesting to you than any such meditations. We passed without harm or molestation down the hill, across the railroad and up this hill, (by some called Upton's, but more properly Throgmorton's,) to the table land about half way up its side, on which we are now encamped. Having stacked arms in divisions, we lay down, not doubting but that in a few minutes we would be charged upon by the rebel cavalry, or awakened by rebel batteries. But the minutes lengthened into an hour, and the hours grew to one o'clock a. m., and most of us were sleeping—all were still—when a volley of musketry was heard far off on our right. Scarcely three files had fired till every man was on his feet and in line. The first volley was followed by a second which seemed to come from an entire regiment. We stood in silence with listening ears, expecting each moment to be called to aid some fellow soldiers in the wild work of battle. But nothing more was heard, and all soon settled down again into sleep, or gathered around camp fires, and indulged in stories or more domestic thoughts. In the morning we learned that the firing was caused by the sad conflict between Owens' Irish Regiment and the California Regiment, the history of which you have heard. Nothing more of importance happened during the night, and this morning I was on my feet early, and looking around to see where we were and what was "to pay."
On the same flat with our regiment I see the other regiments, of Keyes' Brigade; a little further up the hill the New York Twelfth; on the top of the hill the Twenty-first and Twenty-third, and Capt. Platt's battery of flying artillery, with four guns of Lieut. Edward's battery. Passing along the hill to Throgmorton's house, I could see Munson's Hill with the New York Thirty seventh on it, and Mason's Hill with part of the Thirty-fifth in possession of the fort, which is scarcely more than a rifle pit, with several embrasures for cannon. The fortification on Munson's Hill is a very inferior rifle-pit. And all these wondrous works, which have occupied so many columns in some of the New York papers, have turned out to be mere children's play, mounted with stove-pipes and such other deadly weapons. There is no evidence of the rebels ever having more than one or two small guns on these hills. There are a thousand reasons given for their abandonment of them, and I'll not venture one of my own. The day has been as quiet as could be expected. I have written this while a hundred noises have blundered against my pen—a hundred questions drawn me away. It is time for the supper bell. Alas! I forget myself. 

The Twenty-Fourth Regiment
To be Re-Organized,
Lt.-Col. Raulston of the 81st to be its Commander—Oswego likely to be the Headquarters.
To the Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers and Privates of the Old Twenty-Fourth, And to all others who are desirous of re-entering the Service, this affords an excellent opportunity. It is the intention of the Governor to re-organize the original thirty-eight (two years) Regiments—and to do it, if possible, by recruiting. The large bounties for Veterans will no doubt have the effect of filling them up in a very short time.
Col. Raulston is at present stopping at the WELLAND HOUSE.

OSWEGO, Thursday, May 2, 1861.
Two companies of Oswego volunteers, Captains E. M. Paine and Frank Miller, will start from here at 3 o'clock to-morrow for Elmira. The companies are chiefly composed of well drilled and efficient men from our city military. Three additional companies are forming. An Oswego regiment will shortly be in the field.

Headquarters 24th Reg. N. Y. S. V.,
September 26, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
These are surely the "septem placidi dies" of the army of the Potomac—the halcyon days so loved by the Naiads—so propitious to the mariners of old. The tide of war seems lulled to a deep repose. Not a rumor of advancing foes or of midnight hurryings forth to battle, any longer disturbs our dreams, or ruffles the surface of our thoughts. The greater light rules the day and the lesser light rules the night, in their friendly alternation, as they have done from the beginning. The bright, bold colors of summer are fading, and the gray tinge of autumn is creeping over the forests and the meadows, and to-day nature seems to have made her toilet in keeping with the time set apart by a great nation for fasting and prayer. There is a meek humility in the atmosphere. It comes in gentle south breezes, leaving purity and sweetness in its pathway round the world, as prayer refreshes and gladdens the hearts of the devoted. And in its noiseless mission of good works today, it will visit every hearthstone all over this broad land, while a wave of prayer will go forth from every patriot heart—from assembled congregations—from the ten thousand times ten thousand whose hopes are bound up in the hosts that at this hour stand ready "to open the bleeding testament of war"—a prayer for our country—for all humanity—for children's children till the end of time. It is a precious thought to think that to-day in every village and city all business is suspended; that the smith has left his forge, the merchant his store; that the good and faithful everywhere are gathered together in sober thought and humble devotion. It strengthens the soldier to know that he is encircled by his country's prayers; that the tears of holy mothers and sisters and wives find their way to the throne of the God of battles, and bring down blessings of health and safety on his head. Gainsay it as he may, the most hardened sinner has a sacred faith in the prayers of the righteous.
And the river before me seems clad to suit the hour—the rich, beautiful Potomac. The sunshine plays upon its surface, giving it the glad smile of Christianity; while the deep still waters speak of sober thoughts for the welfare of the empire which it divides.
Potomac! what a volume of history clusters round the word. The mysterious history of the red man, who once peopled its shores and gave it its name—the history of our fathers, who, fleeing from the iron heel of despotism, come here that they might enjoy the rights of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
How strange that in so short a time, two armies, steeled in the bitterest spirit of death, springing from these same ancestors, the one assembled to defend these rights, the other to destroy them, should sit face to face on the banks of this same river. 
Yet, it is but another instance of the speedy degradation of a people where darling sins are hugged for their profit—where ambition runs riot through all the chaste chambers of justice and humanity.
A few aspiring men kept the States of Greece continually at war among themselves, till, degraded and dishonored, the land of the poet and the scholar became the prey of the conqueror.—Rome was proud mistress of the world while her leaders were virtuous, and her armies wielded for the good of the people; but when luxury refined her virtues, and personal ambition led her armies, the mighty legions withered in the grim presence of the stern courage of the North.
A momentary success may crown the efforts of men traveling the narrow path of selfishness, but it is only where broad humanity and justice are at the base, that men and nations tread firmly in the midst of misfortunes.
Had the disaster that overtook our army at Bull Run fallen upon the other side, it is not likely they could ever have rallied. The great mass of the people who love liberty and the Union, would have deserted the inglorious cause, and turned again to their allegiance; while with us the disaster has proved to be a blessing. It has shown how deeply and firmly in the hearts of the people, love of the Union strikes its roots. It has called forth new armies of men ready with their lives to make this Union perpetual. 
When the loyal States began this War, they had no serious thoughts beyond a few dollars and a few men. They expected in a few days the rebellion would be among the things that were, and the Union would be the stronger for the effort.
But they have learned by a bitter experience, that the Union is a costlier ornament than they thought. It is to be purchased by a war which will touch every man and every interest of the Nation. The whole people must feel that we are actually at war—that there is a tide of battle rolling to and fro over the land, the bloodiest, perhaps, the world has ever seen.
The few thousands in the field may be swept away. Do the people at home stand ready in such a case to back down and give up the contest, or are they ready to spend the last dollar to fill up the ranks, till the last man is under arms? It is with this spirit the South has entered the field. The whole South is at war, every city, town and village. They have had three to one wherever our troops have met them. They have been victorious in almost every engagement of consequence. "Who can tell where fortune will turn against them." In a few days more the army of the Potomac must try its strength again in the "grim ridges." It may be defeated—what would be the consequences? Let every one ask himself "what would be the consequences?" It is a serious question, and one that concerns all. Would the people rally again to the standard, or would they let the Union drift asunder to become countless petty States, and spread civil war broad cast along the line of centuries? W ho can tell where dissolution would stop? Who can tell what endless misery awaits those who live to see one State go out of this Union, and become free and independent? It may be that God is going to ask countless sacrifices for the restoration of the Union to its former prosperity and greatness. Are the people ready? A million lives were a small price, could the Union be firmly established by that sacrifice, and handed down to our posterity as our fathers gave it to us. It would strengthen the heart and hand of every soldier now in the field, to have the people say that, come what may, "the Union must and shall be preserved!" The thought that death and defeat will overtake us, and after that will come compromise or an acknowledgment of the Confederacy, is hostile to courage. 
But I find I have been wandering. I will quit—and while I live I hope to be able to stand where I now do, and behold the city on the other side still standing, the proud Capital of a nation  extending from the Lakes to the Gulf—from the Atlantic to the Pacific—with the monument in honor of the Father of his Country still there, looking heavenward, and reverenced in every village and State, and around every fireside.

UPTON'S HILL, VA., NOV, 27, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
The boxes and barrels of good things sent sometime ago, by our friends in Ellisburgh, have at last reached us. Thanks, &c., are stale and every-day things, but we are sure that if every soldier in the army had such friends as we have in Ellisburgh, there would be no appeal to the public generosity for little comforts and necessaries, and less suffering. Our friends take it upon themselves to see that we want for none of those little comforts and luxuries, which the government cannot gather together in sufficient abundance for so large an army. The Commissary Department can give bread, and beef, and beans, and beans, and beef, and bread, by the hundred, and barrel, and bushel, but there are a thousand little things which makes no provision for, which can only be supplied by the more affectionate thoughtfulness of mothers, and fathers, and sisters, and friends. The town of Ellisburgh, Jefferson county, is really at war. Those who are not in the field are providing for those who are, and in this way are silently doing active service. The men in the field have stronger arms, and braver hearts, to strip and to endure, when thus anticipated in their wants, and watched over by grateful friends. We hear the voice of Ellisburgh, crying from afar unto us: 'Honor me and I will remember you; neglect no duty; flee from no danger. Those who fall shall be embalmed in my memory, those who come home shall have their reward of love." It is something like this we hear in all these little gifts. We know that dearly as we are loved by our friends, they, like the Grecian mother, would rather see us return unto them dead, than dishonored. It is not the intrinsic value and nutritious character of these articles, that makes the boys so jubilant. It is that they see love written all over them. They see kindness in the butter, in the cheese, in the cabbage, in the catsup, in all these things, and it is this that gives these things their greatest value. The company gave three cheers for Dr. Buel. He was mainly instrumental in getting them together, and sending them. No self-sacrifice is too great for him, if only he can do something for "the boys." We cannot mention the long list of contributors to this stock of good things. It would begin with Prof. Houghton, and Uncle John Clarke, and run all through the town. But we must not forget to tell Mr. Stacey that the bottle of currant wine, addressed by him to Jeff. Davis, in care of Albert Lane and myself, fell into Union hands, and was confiscated as contraband of war. Jean.
—Mr. B. B. Hart, a private in Capt. Taylor's company, 24th (Oswego) Regiment, now on the Potomac, has won by his daring and valuable services a handsome compliment from his regiment. At dress parade a few evenings since, the regiment was formed in hollow square, and Private Hart was called forward. The Major then complimented him upon his soldierly bearing and courageous adventures, and in the name of the regiment, and as a testimonial of their appreciation, presented him with a revolver of superior workmanship, a spy glass, a pocket compass, and a set of the most accurate maps of the region and State of Virginia. Speeches were made by Capts. Taylor, Jennings, Barnum, Beardsley and others. This, we believe, is the first instance in which a private has won such a complimentary notice from his regiment.

September 8, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
Last evening, about nine o'clock, a me3ssenger from the Arlington House rode up to our Colonel's quarters post haste. Pretty soon Adjutant Oliver came along in front of our tents and said, in that kind of whisper which makes one nervous, "Be ready to march at a moment's warning, with two day's rations and forty rounds of cartridges." Of course we have learned to check that curiosity which would prompt us, on such occasions, to ask "what all this is for," and all we had to do was to wonder what was going "to turn up," and work to provide for it. The camp was soon all astir; fires were kindled to cook the meat, and barrels of hard bread were rolled out from the commissary department; the ordnance store was thrown open, and small, well-made boxes, marked "A thousand ball cartridges," were opened, and their contents issued to the First Sergeants of companies. I saw boys who had been on the hospital list for a week, cleaning their guns and filling their cartridge boxes with "pills" with which they said they were going to clean out secession. About twelve (midnight) haversacks were filled with provisions—cartridge boxes with ammunition—guns were in good order, and everything ready for a march—be it for fight or fun. Still no orders came, and the boys gathered in groups—some for "bluff," some sang "Dixie's Land," while others more thoughtful, wrote letters to friends at home. But gradually sounds died away—one by one lights went out, and all became so quiet that one would not have thought that the first few notes of "The Assemble" would have brought into line a thousand Enfield rifles. About this time I threw myself down on my sea-grass mattress [sic], thinking if I could catch "forty winks or so," it would do me no harm. Where the night went I couldn't positively say, for that was the last I saw of it. The next thing that came within the grasp of consciousness was this morning, about seven o'clock, when Dr. Reynolds came to my tent, and, pulling aside the canvas door, said "good morning," and walked in without further ceremony. The Doctor was to accompany the right wing of the regiment, which was detailed for picket duty to-day, and lest there might be no need of his professional skill, he wanted to procure an antidote for the "blues," in the shape of something to read. I was a little lazy about getting up, and to cut short the Doctor's visit I pointed out to him a collection of Sabbath School books, which our chaplain left in my charge. They are such as "Amy and her Brothers," "The Fox and the Fight," "It is I," &c. The Doctor cast a glance at them and then turned toward me with a pleasant indignation sitting on his face. This soon gave way to a story which he told in such capital style that I was up before he was through with it, and ready with my whole library at his disposal. I took up volume after volume showing each to him to select what he wished from the whole. The first was the August No. of the Atlantic Monthly, which a very dear friend sent to me after reading of my want of it in a letter to you some time ago. The second was Tennyson in two volumes. The third was Dickens' "Great Expectations." These were my whole stock and the Doctor selected the last mentioned. I opened his choice to the passage where Dickens, describing Mrs. Joe. Gargery's great dinner,  mentions "the obscure corners of the pork, of which the pig while living had least reason to be proud" as part of it, and asked him if with his knowledge of anatomy he could tell where these "obscure corners" were situated.—He read the passage and scratched his head, and started out the door, whether to look in his anatomical library, or on picket duty, I can't say, for I haven't seen him since. Nor have I heard anything more of the marching orders, nor what caused the excitement.
The rebels are fortifying near Chain Bridge, and there is a strong force of them in that vicinity, and that is probably the point at which an attack was expected. They still occupy Munson's Hill, but are adding nothing for the last few days, to its fortifications. 
Somebody who writes to the New York Herald, tells of wonderful skirmishes along the lines, and especially in the vicinity of Hall's house; but how he sees or hears what the pickets do not, I can't say. In fact, I have come to the conclusion that it is safe to believe nothing that I read in some of the papers, and only half what I see with my own eyes. Five companies of our regiment are on picket today, along the lines from Hall's house to the water tank, but I have heard nothing from them.
This Sabbath has been remarkably quiet- That is, quiet for a camp Sabbath. Of course, compare its quietness with the Sabbaths of our homes, where the report of a gun used to shock our nerves and disturb our equilibrium during a whole church service, where we laid aside all labor and all worldly mindedness as far as we could and read a different class of books, and wore a different kind of face and a different kind of clothes, one would say this camp quiet is quietness on a large scale. We have had regular guard mountings, and morning parades and inspection, and dress parades this evening, and after that our Chaplain called us together around a fatherly old oak tree and made a few remarks to us, and a prayer for us and our country and humanity, and then the whole regiment joined in singing "Old Hundred." These are the leading features of a regimental Sabbath.
And now as I write, the music of two brass bands (the one our own and the other of the Twenty-second, encamped beside us) rises with a voluptuous swell, "smoothing the raven down of darkness till it smiles."
Ours is playing the Marseillse Hymn, and as the players strike that stirring chorus 
"March on, march on, all hearts resolved 
On liberty or death,"
I can not wonder that the French love it, and have so often moved under its influences to such glorious victories. There is a magic power in its words and notes that moves the deep abiding places of the soul, and causes it to rise with a longing for battle fields and glorious deaths.
The other is playing "Auld Lang Syne," and as the notes move along the lines
"Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never called to mind."
one's mind is called away from war and tumult, to the times, and places, and friends which bind the heart and win the recollection. The one points on to a name and the victor's wreath, while the other calls back to the household, penates, and friends we love. But it is time for "tattoo," and the grim Corporal of Police will soon be around with his unmusical cry, of "lights out if you please sir." I think I hear his footfall now, and before he gets here I'll blow out my light and say good night. 

UPTON'S HILL, NOV. 3, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
Such a day! One's heart has a muffled beat at the thought, "where will this storm drive our fleet?" The great naval pageant to which we have looked forward so long—aroung [sic] which so many hopes cluster—so many interests hang suspended. All day the rain has been incessant, and the wind has blown, a perfect hurricane, whistling around our canvas dwellings as though angered that they should be in its pathway. Fortunate were those who had the ropes tightly drawn over the pins, solid in the ground, for not a few were the luckless inhabitants to-day who saw their tents rise at the bidding of this invisible monster, and leave them sitting in the rain. And he is no respecter of persons. Dr. Reynolds was sitting in his tent, deeply interested in "Hair-Chains" in the November Atlantic, and he had just passed under the grape vine and entered the grotto with the beautiful Kaguna leading the way, when his tent rose gracefully up and departed; but the Doctor was so intent on the rose-colored cloud and the variegated shades of the mossy carpet, and the witchery of the enchantress when she beckoned him to a seat beside her, that it was some minutes before he was conscious that he was neither in the grotto nor in his tent, but sitting in the rain, with some dozen or more standing round about, laughing at his plight. He sat there disregarding the storm, reminding one of the calmness of the old Roman Senators, who sat unmoved in the Senate Chamber, indifferent to the presence of the Generals, who stood before them with drawn swords, having plundered the city of its choicest jewels and murdered its inhabitants. But the Doctor, unlike them, gathered himself up after a while and began to pick up his furniture and put it in charge of a neighbor, but his tent is still a wreck on the ground.
The sentry in front of our tent paced his beat in the drenching rain, with his rifle at a "secure," thoroughly imbued with this stanza:
"Independence! Thy spirit let me share,
Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye;
My bosom to the blasts I'll bare,
Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky."
Which he declaimed with a vehemence in keeping with the fierceness of the elements warring about him. The monarchs of the forest groaned, their great arms stretching toward the ground, and their summer leaves disappearing on the winds. It has been such a day as one seldom experiences—the wildest by far of our camp life; and it warns us that we must be moving toward Richmond soon, or going into winter quarters within gun-shot of the capital. But, perhaps, it is imagination following the great fleet along the Atlantic coast, beholding it scattered by the winds and many of the vessels wrecked on the breakers, that makes us notice this day so closely. Our hopes are passengers in those vessels, and should the expedition prove a failure, it would darken the prospects of the morrow. Our arms have met with so many reverses on land that should Neptune raise his trident against us, we would begin to feel that we are on the wrong side moving against the gods. And this morning's Republican announces officially, that the hero of Lundy's Lane and Mexico—the sage warrior in whose counsels we confided so trustingly, is our Commander-in-chief no more. The years hang heavily about the old man's head, and this bloody rebellion has stolen that gladness from his old age which should have escorted him to the grave after so many years given to his country.
------"his work is done;
But while the races of mankind endure,
Let his great example stand
Colossal, seen of every land,
And keep the soldiers firm—the Statesmen pure."
We are now to follow the fortunes of McClellan. He has won the confidence of the army by his appearance. God grant that he may prove worthy of it by his action. 

—The good people of Ellisburgh and Henderson have just forwarded to Co. K, 24th Regiment, (Capt. Barney) the following articles, in addition to 280 lbs. butter, 250 lbs. cheese and 18 qts. currant jelly heretofore furnished: 265 lbs. butter; 390 lbs. cheese; 1/2 barrel pickled cabbage; 1/2 barrel cucumber pickles; 8 gallons tomato catsup. A tolerably good supply of luxuries for one company. Jefferson county butter and cheese is said by the soldiers to be a far superior article to that retailed about Washington—which is strange.

Oct. 8th, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
We stood in the circle round the fire last night, Phil. and I, and drew our great coats close about us. PHIL. is one of the recruits Capt. B. brought with him the other day, and hasn't got used to this soldiering yet. Yesterday was his first day out here, for the recruits had all remained in Camp Keyes a few days after their arrival, that the change from comfortable dwellings to this bough-house might be softened a little by the brief comfort of tents. But yesterday morning the most of them came out to join the regiment, and enter upon their new life in earnest. It was laughable to hear their comments on the different styles of architecture adopted in the founding of this, our brigade city. They saw long rows of ____, I don't know what to call them, but they are constructed by driving forked stakes into the ground ten or twelve feet apart, connecting them by laying a pole across the top, and then placing rails or poles on for rafters, after which the rails are thatched with straw and cornstalks and cedar branches, which makes the roof. But here and there they saw structures which displayed greater taste,—cozy little summer houses, with arched doorways and windows; and then they saw what the boys call the City Halls, Cathedrals and Courthouses. On the whole, they were more edified with the sights of our city than they would have been, likely, if we had looked to the Parthenon for models, and built in classic fashion. And then to see the great boilers of meat over the fire, and the huge pots of coffee, and the boys eating from pewter plates and drinking from great tin cups—they thought it funny. In the afternoon they went along with the other boys to work on the fort, which we are building on the hill near Upton's house. Phil. is an earnest kind of a fellow, and he had many quaint questions to ask about things. He saw a thousand men at work building the fortification, and he soon learned that its slope is octagonal; its mean diameter about two hundred feet, and that the ditch around it is to be seven feet deep by twelve wide, when completed. He wondered that so much work could be done in a week by one brigade—a rifle pit on Mason's Hill, which is in imposing contrast with the one dug by the rebels on that hill, and a fort on Upton's Hill almost completed—and all this in a week. We told him that Gen. McClellan had complimented us on the manner and amount of our work; and then Phil. smiled to think that he and McClellan were struck so much alike by our handiwork. During the afternoon, I saw him look frequently at the dark, ominous clouds rising in the south west, and I confess I thought them a little suspicious like myself. And last night when we stood by the fire, pitchy darkness brooding in the air, mighty thunder rolling over our heads, and the fierce flashes of electric flame that shown over our bivouac for a moment, revealed as strange sights as have been seen since the days that Adam bivouacked in Eden, or Noah rode about the world in his great canal boat. Three thousand men were gathered here on this hill-side, standing in groups at the corner of the streets, around camp fires, or under shelter of the great oaks. Some trying to keep dry, some singing strange old songs, some fearing their powder would get wet. In the midst of all this, while we were standing at the fire, Phil. looked at the big clouds over head, and the big drops coming down, and the thick darkness laying round about and thinking of the chances for sleep, he said—and just as he was going to say it, he stepped on the end of a rail which was burning. The boys at such a time as this, don't spare fences or anything else that makes a light and gives out heat. The rain had soaked through the roofs of their sleeping apartments and wet the straw under them and the blankets over them and one by one they had given sleeping up for a bad job, and had crawled out from their lairs, and looking round on their fellows huddled together, they were not long in thinking of fence rails and fires. Whole fences found their way on to strong shoulders in the dark, and fires were soon giving us comfort. Some fifty of us were gathered around one of these fires, and I was just listening to a report, that had just come in, that the rebels had fallen back as far as Fairfax, and I wondering when we would follow them up, and thrash them outright, or get thrashed outright ourselves, and so settle it one way or the
other, and I had just come to the place in the wonder where thoughts of how much depended on the next conflict between the two armies of the Potomac, and how justly cautious are all the movements of McClellan, when Phil, as I said before, setting his foot on the end of the rail, and  thinking, I suppose, of how he'd enjoy a feather bed, and  a good supper, and a good house, and the little kindnesses of his mother, and the sweet voice of his sister, and looking around and about him, and above him, said, after drawing himself up to his full length, in that quaint, queer way of his, and I suppose he feltall he said, and knew also that no one there would dispute it. "It rains!" and I thought he was right.

BELLEVILLE, N. Y., Oct. 4.,
Capt. Barney, of Co. K, Twenty-fourth (Oswego) Regiment, left for Washington, via Syracuse, on Thursday, the 26th ult., with fifty-four able-bodied, intelligent recruits for the regiment. Capt. Barney was at home two weeks, during which time he has been indefatigable in his labors, having spoken eleven times, each time to a crowded house. His operations have been confined to the towns of Henderson and Ellisburg of this county, and Sandy Creek and Orwell in Oswego county. We do not hesitate to say that few officers in the service could have enlisted as many men in these towns, within the same time. Here is the list:
Fordice R. Melvin, Wm. H. Brading, Newton Smith, Chas. Parker, Harvey Z. Farr, John Hazlewood, Aug. G. H.., Clark Whitney, Oramel N. Bosworth, Edwin Green, George W. Felt, Myron D. Stanley, Oren S. McNeil, William McKay, Alvah Randall, Dewitt F. Parker, Rensselaer Lester, M_rick Salisbury, Orville Nutting, Simon C. Williams, Orson Gale, Mason Mires, John Wagnor, Almeron W. Clark, Marcus D. Houghton, Willard W. Wilson, Amos Cogswell, Am. K. Montague, Oren Shufelt, Gaylord W. Babcock, Madison Stevens, Wm. Lyon McEinstry, Geo. W. Taylor. Geo. Knight, Chas. F. Gallon, Geo. W. Smith, Henry H. Cooper, Oliver D. Ellis, Theodore W. Holley, Daniel C. Adsit, Wm. A. Cross, Eugene Babcock, Nathan Parish, Hiram Gilbe, Geo. A. Huggins, Lyndon J Cole, Water Watkins, Thomas Nichols, Duane Dunne, Robert A. Greenfield, Chas. Gould, Chauncey H. Persons, Henry Anderson, Romeo E. Spicer, Chas. F. Persons, Christopher C. Wilder, Franklin Curtis.
Yours, truly,
N. W. Buel, M. D.

Oct. 19th, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
Three miles by seven is about as much of Virginia as I am personally acquainted with. I have never been as far to the right as Chain Bridge, nor to the left as Alexandria. The three miles run from the south end of Long Bridge up along the south bank of the Potomac. The seven miles run from the same end of the same bridge out along the turnpike toward Fairfax Court-house. This makes three times seven square miles of the sacred surface with which I am pretty well acquainted. These acres are insignificant compared with the whole extent of the State, but they form no mean part of the stage on which the actors in the drama of the World's Hopes are rehearsing their parts, and slowly moving on to the catastrophe. This small part, along with many others, is destined to float through history with a peculiar interest to every people. The army that now treads upon it will have foot-marks that time will not forget, nor floods wash away. The forests that have been felled may grow up again—the earthworks may disappear in the flight of years and the wash of waters—but the foot prints that mark the progress of human rights will never be erased.
Beginning then, at the three mile line along the Potomac and starting toward Fairfax, there i s a tendency upwards in the lay of the land—gradually on the left—on the right more abruptly, into the hills named Arlington Heights—both tendencies, in the end, arriving at the same elevation.
Then there stretches out before one a level tract, extending, with here and there a gentle undulation, almost four miles, when it breaks down kindly or harshly some two hundred feet. Along the foot of this descent Four Mile Run winds its way, and side by side with the Run, the Alexandria, Loudon and Hampshire Railroad runs. 
Crossing the stream and the road, the land looks upward again—the left, plodding its way along, is content when it gets as high as it was before it fell; while the more ambitious right rises three hundred feet above the common level. But, as if it were unable to maintain the elevation, it begins to roll down again, in front and on the right and the left, leaving a ridge about a mile long, with but few feet of level surface on the top, called "Upton's Hill." At the foot of this hill there is a narrow valley, when the land rises again about two hundred feet, and rolls down again as it did before, leaving a hill like unto the other—called by some, "Murray's;" by others "Mason's," and by others again, "Taylors." These different titles can, perhaps, be accounted for in this way: A man named Murray Mason owns a farm on the hill. Some have christened the hill after his cognomen, and called it "Murray's"; while others, adopting his nomen, give it the name "Mason." Again, another man keeps, or did keep tavern in an old frame, whitewashed building on this hill, or on that part of it which looks down toward Falls Church—hence some geographers or correspondents have honored, or dishonored, (if you please) the hill with the name "Taylor."
These two hills—Mason's and Upton's—are very similar in length and height and general appearance, and one standing in the valley between them is reminded of the stories of the graves of giants, that have come down to us in mythology; and looking down the valley but a few yards distant from the south end of these two hills, a dome shaped mound rises upon the view, as it were the pedestal on which may have stood some ancient monument reared in honor of the mighty dead that lie buried under the hills, at whose feet it stands. This may seem to some as marvellous [sic]. Perhaps it is. But who can say positively what was or was not in the unrecorded ages of what wondrous race--the Indian? Who can say what is in the earth beneath us. At any rate, this mound-like, dome sloped, pedestal resembling elevation, is now in reality the celebrated Munson's Hill. 
And it was the situation of these three hills which figure so conspicuously in to day's history, that I was trying to get at all the while. I began at the Potomac, and thought to take a round-about way and describe their situation unawares, but I find my pen isn't cautious enough for such scouting expeditions, and has, by its venturing too far, led me into trouble. How shall I get out?
Shall I tell of these fortifications on these hills? but you knew all about them already. Perhaps it would be well to say that the intrenchment [sic] on Munson's Hill is not a regular fort, as some of the papers have it, but patches of the nature of a priest's cap," the gorge being open. The same may be said of the entrenchment [sic] on Mason's Hill, along which runs also an indented rifle pit; while the fortification on Upton's Hill is a redoubt with embrasures for eleven large guns, and is surrounded by a ditch, and an abattis which would laugh at any attempt at storming, unless knocked to pieces first by shot and shell. 
To leave these hills, which I don't think I'll be hasty about climbing with pen and ink again, I might say that yesterday Gen. Wadsworth with one company of infantry, and one of cavalry, started out to reconnoiter in the direction of Fairfax. Finding no enemy, the General proceeded, till at last he made up his mind that the rebels had fallen back, and that he would go and occupy the Court House. He telegraphed to Gen. McClellan, accordingly, wishing him (McClellan) to send on some troops to support him; when McClellan telegraphed back, ordering him (Wadsworth) to retire to Upton's Hill where he was posted, and that he (McClellan) would let him know when he wanted him to hold Fairfax Court House, and would support him accordingly. Gen. Wadsworth didn't get much farther when he found it prudent to retire without waiting for the dispatch.
A body of Colonel Stewart's cavalry was seen in the distance approaching. The Company of infantry were ordered to break ranks and get back to camp as best they might, while the cavalry, delaying a little to cover the retreat of the infantry, soon put spurs to their horses and were out of sight. I had this account from one of the boys who was forced to lie in the woods until night covered his escape. 
The rebels immediately advanced their pickets again, which they had drawn in for the purpose of baiting ambitious brigadiers. But McClellan is not the man to fall into traps or to move till he is ready. Let the people wait with full faith and trust the time and manner of movement to him. Congress, brigadiers and the people ordered the battle of Bull Run—they ought to be satisfied. I see the people are impatient again. They say this vast army is idle here on the bank of the Potomac. Let them come and see what has been done. They will not say then that we are idle. Let us trust—let us wait and obey—these are the duties of every citizen and soldier.
Now I feel easier. Here's a good place to stop, there! 

UPTON'S HILL, Oct. 24th, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
Yesterday morning, having nothing particularly pressing on our hands, Capt. Ferguson and myself procured a pass from Gen. Keyes, to take a stroll around the country. The solemnity of these October days makes camp melancholy, and one needs to stir about a little to keep the spirit from  becoming sombre under the influence of the funeral march that is escorting from our sight the beauty which has helped to wile away an idle hour of Summer. 
We each buckled on one of Colt's navy size revolvers, and put a lunch in our haversacks. We met with nothing noteworthy on the way to Falls Church, and nothing in the village particularly attracted our attention. It is one of that class of villages which one might by accident inquire the distance to, while passing through the place itself. A toll-gate, where neither maiden nor matron, nor invalid old man any longer stands with outstretched hand for the three-pence tax, two churches, a tavern, a blacksmith shop, and a few houses scattered here and there along a mile of the Leesburg turnpike; these make up the village of Falls Church.
The old Church itself, from which the village takes its name, might, perhaps, in times of peace, cause the curious stranger to stop a moment and ask its history; but in these times when one sees things and places in a military light, it is of no importance, and I neglected to learn its age, or its founder, or the origin of its name. I saw it as it stands in the centre of an acre lot, a rectangular brick building, with a quadrangular pyramidal roof, shaded by several great trees, some oak, some maple, and one of another class, the name of which I inquired but have forgotten. The brick of which the walls are composed, they say, were brought from England, and are of that substantial character which seems to defy the wear and waste of time.
Saluting the sentinel at the western door, we entered, perhaps with less reverence than we should, the Sanctuary of the Most High. Near the middle of the left hand wall is a large stationary framework, within which are imbedded in the wall three marble slabs. On the first is engraved the Lord's Prayer; on the third, the Nicene creed; on the middle one, sixteen verses of the twentieth chapter of Exodus, beginning with the second; and to these some sacrilegious youth had added another, which reads thus: "Thou shalt not in the midst of thine own iniquity envy the virtuous, who prosper, nor endeavor to destroy the temple of Freedom which their God has reared over their heads; for woe to the envious and the traitorous, they shall not live out half their days."
On the same wall is also another marble in honor of the virtues of Henry Fairfax, "who fell in the battle of Saltillo, Mexico, on the 14th day of August, 1847, while commanding the Fairfax Guards." 
The high-box old-fashioned pulpit, the balustraded altar, the baptismal font, are there, telling of a people who held the English faith and worshiped according to that ritual which has refreshed so many generations, and is to-day, despite the reproaches of the enthusiastic innovator, the goal toward which innovations are drifting.
But we must leave the church, noticing as we pass, the newly-made graves in the yard. Here a headboard relates the story of a South Carolina soldier, who was shot on his post. We forgive him his treason, and call him no longer an enemy. Although the evil that he has done may live after him and grow to curse the human race, still his grave hushes hatred and bids us pray that he may now see his error, and be enabled to enjoy in far higher  perfection that freedom which he here raised his hand to destroy.
We are now out of the church-yard, and out of the village.
Inclining a little to the left, we saunter leisurely along over the fields and through the woods, till we come to the outpost picket, where we are politely requested to exhibit our pass. This proving to be "sound," as the picket expressed it, there was nothing more to impede our progress, at least for a while. We were now in a part of the country which is particularly uninteresting. One could scarce imagine a spot where there would be less for the poet's imagination or the historian's pen. Nothing but the exact sciences could dig anything of interest out of this low, wet land, and I doubt whether I  would not have turned back soon had we not just then come out into an open space, where stood a farm-house, around which were the signs of human life. We made an excuse to get a drink of water, and knocked at the door. We were a little surprised to find a house rather neatly furnished, and a mother with two rather interesting looking daughters—the one aged, perhaps sixteen; the other twenty. We were politely requested to take seats, which we did, your humble servant throwing himself in the "big arm chair." The ladies seated themselves to entertain us. It was the first time I had indulged in the luxury of sitting in a private parlor, imbued with the magic of woman's presence, since we came this side of the river, the 22d of July. The field and staff officers, and rank and file of our regiment, left home prepared for every hardship and every privation, and no ladies in "the latest" are met sweeping majestic the spacious avenues of our camp. In our promenades in the evening moonlight, we are forced to link arms with some burly whiskered companion, and talk of tactics and military evolutions, and the most improved mode of field fortification. The old themes—love and moonlight and authors—come only in dreams out of the chambers memory or hope. Imagine us two, then, yesterday, after this rugged, masculine companionship, brought in contact with ladies who boast of an education in the society of Washington! 
While Capt. H. was addressing himself to the matron, I was trying to think of something to say to Mattie—the eldest of her daughters, who was setting near the centre table playing with the leaves of an album which happened to be open. I looked at her and she looked at me, (or at least I thought so), but nothing was said. I could'nt [sic] endure this. Something must be said, but what? I thought of war, but it would'nt [sic] do. There was no way of beginning it. I thought of the rebels, but they wouldn't answer, for she might have a brother, or a father, or a lover, in the rebel army. O, Doesticks! O, Dickens, why did'nt [sic] you come to my relief?
She was becoming nervous. Her fingers were turning the leaves of the album. I was just going to give up in despair, when lo! glancing at a leaf which she was turning, I thought I saw a name with which I was familiar. Immediately my tongue broke loose and I said: "Pardon me Miss Shiere, (for this was the name of the family), if in watching the playfulness of your fingers, my eye met on that page you have just turned, a name which seems to be familiar." This was a huge beginning. My voice faltered, and I almost broke down in the middle of the sentence. But the ice was broken, and she said: 
"Ah, yes, with pleasure; is it this one?" her finger pointing to the name, at the same time passing me the book.
"It is, thank you," I said, taking it from her hand.
And I was not mistaken. There was the name of a Lieutenant of the Thirty-fifth. He had been on picket duty several times in that vicinity, and this was very convenient headquarters. On his final departure, his feelings had given way to the beautiful language of friendship which was recorded on that spotless white page of the album, in a poetic effusion as musical as the Secedar version of David's psalms, and as brilliant as the long-metre doxology. 
Of course, the perusal of the album was a fine pastime, and Mattie (I learned from the album that her name was Mattie) and I were no longer at a loss for words and themes for conversation. 
I learned that her father had been persuaded "to retire with the army" through fear of imprisonment by the Federal Government; that he had taken his horses and much of his loose property with him; that the family was left in comfortable circumstances, and finally I surmised from Mattie's looks and words, that there is one in "the army" whose absence is more keenly felt than that of her father. 
Thus an hour passed away and it was noon, when Capt. H. suggested that we must be going. But the mother and her daughters would'nt [sic] hear of our going till after dinner, and despite our resolution to go, we yielded to the fascination of a good dinner, and remained. 
The ladies of the kitchen soon had the dinner on the table, steaming hot, and we were all the stronger for having partaken. We bade the ladies a good-day, and were soon on our way again.
But I find I have dallied so long, that I will not be able to follow our footsteps during the afternoon. We crossed many a field, and passed through dark pine forests, which were once sunny plantations before we turned back, and if nothing more crimson turns up to lead me from my purpose, perhaps I'll visit again one or two places, and one or two persons that happened in our pathway during the afternoon's ramble. It was late at night before we brought up at camp, well satisfied with the quiet adventures of the day.

A GOOD RIDDANCE.—Dr. SCOTT last night extracted from the leg of THEODORE W. BROWN, late of the 24th regiment, an ounce ball which had evidently belonged to a Minnie rifle. One ball was extracted at Washington, which was supposed to be all there was in the wound, but it is evident that there were two balls in the gun with which THEODORE was shot. The stump of the leg has healed over finely, but the wound above the amputated part did not heal. The presence of the ball explains that mystery.

Early this morning the picket guard of the New York 24th, at Fall's Church, 22 in number, with a Captain, were attacked by about 40 Rebel cavalry and driven in. Half a dozen shots were exchanged, but no one was hurt on our side.
The Rebel pickets are within five miles of us, on the Columbia road.

UPTON'S HILL, NOV. 5, 1861.
To the Editor of the Utica Morning Herald:
Quite a novelty in camp-life occurred on Monday evening of last week. Professional operatists from the several regiments, encamped, on the hill-side, styling themselves the New York Ethiopian Minstrels of Keyes' Brigade, gave a grand concert dedicated to the officers and members of Keyes' Brigade. A stage was arranged in the camp of the Thirtieth, and everybody had an invitation. Gen. Keyes and staff and the ladies attached thereunto had special invitations, and were in attendance early, and procured front seats; and, long before the hour for the performance to begin, the space in front of the stage was one solid phalanx of humanity. The performance commenced at 7 1/2 o'clock with an overture from the opera of La Somnambula, which "brought down the house." "Vive l'America" was appropriate, and touchingly executed, finding a response in every heart, which added to the cry of "Vive l' America" these words—"or death!" The whole concluded with the "Gallant Boys of Keyes' Brigade," by Dr. Reynolds, and everybody went away singing:

"Let the South jog along as it will,
We'll be gay and happy still."

The citizens of Oswego are to raise $800 to provide a suitable reception for the 24th regiment on their return.—Utica Herald.

The Herald seems Co have a loose, blundering way of making its summary items. The citizens of Oswego are to raise $1,000 to provide a suitable reception for the 24th Regiment, of which sum the Common Council has been asked to raise $300.

Reception of the Twenty-fourth Regiment.
The old braves of the 24th regiment are about to be mustered out of the United States service, whore they have done faithful duty from the 17th of May, 1861. In order to give them an appropriate welcome, the citizens have united upon a general demonstration to take place upon their arrival at Oswego, the time of which is uncertain. They are now in Elmira, and arrangements have been made to have intelligence at the earliest moment their homeward movement is determined on. On their arrival at Syracuse the City bells will be rung for half an hour; and as the train approaches Oswego
a National salute will be fired from near the depot.
A procession will be formed at the depot under the Marshal and his assistants, in the following order:
Military Band of the 48th Regiment.
The Forty-eighth Regiment as an escort, under command of Lieut.-Col. A. B. RANDALL.
The Twenty-fourth Regiment.
Wounded soldiers of the Twenty-fourth and other Regiments, in carriages.
Union Band.
The Firemen under the command of Chief Engineer A. F. Smith.
Orator and Clergymen.
Common Council and Committee of Arrangements, in carriages.
Invited guests and citizens in carriages.

The Military and Firemen will assemble in the West Public Square at the ringing of the bells.
The wounded soldiers, orator and clergy, Common Council, Committee of Arrangements, and invited guests, will assemble at the City Hall, where carriages will be in waiting to receive them.
The above arrangements will be under the direction of ROBERT OLIVER, Marshal, and Lieut.-Col. A. B. RANDALL, and CHAS. PARKER, Assistant Marshals.

Will be as follows:—From the West Public Square down Cayuga to First Street, up First to Oneida, up Oneida to Second, up Second to Utica, down Utica to First street, and down First street to the Post Office, where it will await the arrival of the Twenty-fourth regiment. After that regiment takes its place in the line, the procession will then move forward on the following route:—Down First street to Bridge street, across the Bridge to East First street, down First to Cayuga, up Cayuga to Fourth street, up Fourth to Bridge street, down Bridge to West First street, down West First to Seneca, up Seneca to the West Public Square, where the following exercises will be held:
Welcoming Address.
Reply on behalf of the Regiment.
After the exercises, the procession will re-form and march to Doolittle Hall, where refreshments will be served out to the 24th regiment and invited guests.
During the movement of the procession guns will be fired and the bells will ring. 
Citizens are requested to display the National flag from private residences, public buildings, and from the vessels in the harbor, during the day.
By order of ROBERT OLIVER, Marshal.

Oswego, Wednesday Evening, May 14.
REGIMENT.—The call which appeared in our paper for a meeting to make arrangements for a suitable reception of the Twenty-fourth regiment on its return from the war, filled the Supreme Court Room last evening, with a highly respectable gathering of our citizens. On motion of Hon. ELIAS ROOT, Dr. A. VANDYCK was called to the Chair; and A. B. GETTY elected Secretary. 
The Chair briefly stated the objects of the meeting, after which remarks were made by Hon. CHENEY AMES, Ex-Mayor FORT, and IRA D. BROWN, as to the proper method of receiving our gallant soldiers on their return.
IRA D. BROWN offered a resolution, which was unanimously adopted, appointing the following gentlemen a General Committee of Arrangements, with authority to appoint Sub-Committees and supervise the reception, viz:
D. G. Fort, William Lewis, Philo Bundy, Delos DeWolf, A. H. Failing, David Harmon, L. A. G. B. Grant, A. C. Mattoon, W. H. Herrick, Bronson Babcock, Elias Root, Luke Ratigan, W. A. Poucher.
J. C. COOLEY offered a resolution constituting William Lewis, Cheney Ames and D. G. Fort a Committee to wait upon the Common Council and invite them to participate in the reception, and to make an appropriation towards the expenses.
IRA D. BROWN moved an amendment declaring it to be the sense of this meeting that the Council ought to make an appropriation.
The amendment and the original resolution as amended were unanimously adopted.
The Committee retired and shortly after reported to the meeting that the Council had made an appropriation of $100 before the Committee visited the Council Chamber, and that the Council would accept the invitation to participate in the reception.
On motion of Hon. O. J. HARMON, the Committee to confer with the Common Council was continued in office.
A. B. GETTY offered a resolution instructing the Committee to ask the Common Council to increase their appropriation so as to make it $300.
Remarks were made by CHENEY AMES, D. G. FORT, A. B. GETTY, IRA D. BROWN, F. B. LATHROP, D. H. MARSH and A. J. COWLES, after which Mr. GETTY'S motion was unanimously adopted.
The meeting then adjourned.

On the adjournment of the meeting the Committee of Arrangements organized with D. G. FORT as Chairman, and A. H. FALLING as Secretary. The following Sub-Committees were then appointed, the names of such gentlemen as were not upon the Committee of Arrangements as appointed by the citizens, being added thereto by vote of the Committee:
On Orator—Elias Root, A. H. Failing, W. Lewis.
On Finance—Delos DeWolf, Elias Root, Cheney Ames, Willard Johnson, Bronson Babcock.
On Refreshments—A. C. Mattoon, Luke Ratigan, W. H. Herrick, W. A. Poucher, Philo Bundy.
On Reception and Invitation—L. A. G. B. Grant, A. F. Smith, A. B. Randall, D. Harmon, Ira D. Brown.
On Music and Salutes—Bronson Babcock, B. Doolittle, R. Lippencott.
On Carriages—Samuel Miller, W. S. Nelson, D. G. Fort.
On Decoration—R. L. Davis, W. H. Herrick, Geo. Harman, John H. Green, F. B. Lathrop.
On motion, ROBERT OLIVER was appointed Marshal, with ALBERT F. SMITH and CHAS. PARKER as Assistant Marshals.
The Committee then adjourned to meet on Friday evening at the Supreme Court Room.

Reception of the Twenty-Fourth Regiment.
OSWEGO, June 2.
The Twenty-fourth regiment of volunteers, enlisted at the commencement of the war and the first from this county, arrived in this city this afternoon. They were received at the depot by the military, firemen and Common Council, who escorted them through the principal streets to the West Park, where an address of welcome was made by ex-Mayor Fort, which was responded to by Lieut. Col. Beardsley of the 24th.
After the ceremonies, &c., the war-worn veterans were marched to Doolittle Hall, where a bountiful collation was prepared for them. 
National flags were displayed in profusion from public and private buildings, and from the shipping in the harbor. The utmost enthusiasm prevailed.

Card from Capt. Mond.
To the Editor of the Oswego Commercial Times:
My attention has been called to a statement made in the columns of the Syracuse Courier by a person calling himself A. COMSTOCK, to the effect that the company which reversed arms when passing under the McCLELLAN banner, on the day of the reception of the 24th regiment, did so by order of the Captain, and that "he received ten dollars from a prominent Abolitionist for so doing." Inasmuch as it was my company which reversed arms, this charge refers to me, and thereby brand it as a malicious, gratuitous and shameless falsehood. I neither received ten dollars, nor any other sum from any person, for such order. The order came from the rear, as members of my company say from one of the field, officers of the regiment, and was simply repeated by me. The public may judge how much the statements of this COMSTOCK are worth as to other matters, when he is willing to father so shameful a lie and perpetrate such a slander upon me and my company.
I will further state that I did not hear my cheering on the occasion, save a few cattering shouts. Although there were men in the regiment friendly to Gen. McClellan, the men generally regarded the display of such a banner altogether inappropriate on such an occasion, savoring too much of partisanship, when it was intended that all, citizens and military, should unite in a cordial welcome of our brave 24th. The reckless falsehoods of COMSTOCK are only laughed at by those who know that took place on the occasion alluded to. 
Walter Mond,
Captain of Oswego Guards.

Reception of the Twenty-Fourth Regiment.
OSWEGO, June 2.
The Twenty-fourth regiment of volunteers, enlisted at the commencement of the war and the first from this county, arrived in this city this afternoon. They were received at the depot by the military, firemen and Common Council, who escorted them through the principal streets to the West Park, where an address of welcome was made by ex-Mayor Fort, which was responded to by Lieut. Col. Beardsley of the 24th.
After the ceremonies, &c., the war-worn veterans were marched to Doolittle Hall, where a bountiful collation was prepared for them. 
National flags were displayed in profusion from public and private buildings, and from public and private buildings, and from the shipping in the harbor. The utmost en­thusiasm prevailed.     

Arrival of the 24th Regiment at Oswego.
Oswego, June 2.
The 24tth New York, enlisted at the commencement of the war, and the first from this county, arrived in this city this afternoon. They were received at the depot by the military, firemen and Common Council, who escorted them through the principal streets to the West Park, where an address of wel­come was read by ex-Mayor Fort, which was re­sponded to by Lieut. Col. Beardsley, of the 24th. After the ceremonies, &c., the war-worn veterans were marched to Doolittle Hall, where a bountiful collation was prepared for them. National flags were displayed in profusion from public and private buildings and from the shipping in the harbor. The utmost enthusiasm prevailed.                  

Oswego, Saturday Evening, May 16.
Meeting of the Ladies!
The Ladies of this city, interested in welcoming
Are requested to meet at the Supreme Court Room This Evening,
RECEPTION OFTHE TWENTY-FOURTH REGIMENT.—The General Committee of Arrangements for the reception of the Twenty-fourth, regiment, held a meeting last evening at the Supreme Court Room, at which reports were made by the several Sub-Committees.
A resolution was adopted inviting all discharged soldiers of the Twenty-fourth regiment who may be in the city to occupy carriages in the procession, and also inviting all disabled soldiers of other regiments to do likewise. Lest some might possibly be overlooked by the Committee, it was resolved to publish the invitation in the TIMES, which is hereby done.
A resolution was adopted inviting the patriotic ladies of the city to take charge of the matter of providing refreshments for the soldiers at Doolittle Hall, and inviting the ladies to meet this (Saturday) evening at the Supreme Court Room, there to consult with the Committee on Refreshments, and make the necessary arrangements. We trust that there may be a full attendance of ladies at the meeting to-night. We are sure that they will not be backward in doing their share towards receiving our gallant soldiers with fitting honors.
We have received a telegraphic dispatch from THEODORE W. BROWN, who has gone to Elmira to meet his old comrades in arms, stating that the regiment reached that place yesterday at 6 P. M. We presume they will arrive in our city on Monday or Tuesday. The Committee of Arrangements must bestir themselves, for there is little time to spare.

The Rome Daily Sentinel.
Local Items.
COL. BEARDSLEY, of the 24th, did not seem to have been a favorite with his men. The Sandy Creek boys' poem, of which they left several copies at the hotels in town, was very severe on him. His Fulton company he refused to allow to stop at their home, but insisted that they should go on to Oswego city to be "received." The Fulton soldiers, however, were too smart for the Colonel. The Patriot says: "When nearing the Fulton station, they quietly took possession of the last car of the train, stationed a man on the platform on the last car but one, who, when the train neared the station, put down the brake. This, of course checked the movement of the train, and loosened the coupling which attached the rear car; the pin was removed and a couple of stout fellows put down the brake with a will. The result was that the car stopped in an instant, while the rest of the train passed on to Oswego. It was ingeniously planned, and successfully executed, although at considerable risk, and the soldiers stepped out of the captured car amid the shouts and hurrahs of a large crowd of friends who witnessed it."

Oswego, Monday Evening, June 1.
We learn by a private telegram that the 24th Regiment will leave Elmira to morrow morning at 5 o'clock, and will probably reach here at about 2 o'clock P. M. 
The Committee of Arrangements will meet this evening at the Supreme Court Room, at 8 o'clock.
The Committee of ladies are requested to take immediate steps for preparing refreshment, and will meet at the Common Council Room this evening at 8 o'clock.
All military men who may be in the city, together with the clergy, are invited by the Committee of Arrangements to unite in the demonstration. They will please report at the City Hall to-morrow.
Invited guests are invited to appear at the City Hall at 12 1/2 o'clock P. M.

OSWEGO, June 2.
The 24th regiment of volunteers, enlisted at the commencement of the war, and the first from this county, arrived in the city this P. M. They were received at the depot by the military, fireman and Common council, who escorted them through the streets to West Park. An address of welcome was made by ex-Mayor Fort, and was responded to by Lieut. Col. Beardsley of the 24th. After which the war worn veterans were marched to Doolittle Hall, where a bountiful colation was prepared for them. National flags were displayed in profusion from public and private buildings, and from the shipping in the harbor. The utmost enthusiasm prevailed.
The Committee of Arrangements for the reception of the 24th regiment, will meet this evening at the Supreme Court Room. All persons having bills against the Committee should present them at that time.

Reception of the Twenty-Fourth Regiment at Oswego.
OSWEGO, N. Y., June 2.
Editors Atlas & Argus:
To-day the remnant of the 24th Regiment N. Y. S. Vols. which, two years ago, went out from among us to fight for the restoration of the Union, returned to their friends and homes.—They met with a most cordial reception from their fellow townsmen. The people of this city and vicinity turned out en masse to receive them. The Regiment reached here under charge of Col. S. R. Beardsley at about 5 o'clock P. M., and were received at the depot by the 48th Regiment, N. Y. S. Militia, the Fire Department, Committee of Arrangements, and citizens generally. The war-worn veterans marched down West First street to Bridge st., along Bridge street across the River Bridge.— In the centre of the Bridge was erected a magnificent arch, on which was inscribed the memorable names of Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam and Fredericksburgh [sic], the battles in which the Regiment had participated. 
Returning, they proceeded to the West Public Park where reception speeches were made by Hon. Wm. Lewis and others, on behalf of the citizens, and replied to by Col. Beardsley in behalf of the regiment. The regiment and invited guests thereupon repaired to Doolittle Hall where a substantial and magnificent supper had been prepared for the returned soldiers, by the voluntary contributions of the patriotic ladies of Oswego. The brave boys partook of the good things set before them, amid the congratulations of their friends, and having thus completed the programme of their entertainment, separated for their respective homes. The reception was an appropriate and successful one, everybody seeming satisfied and happy, except a few of our rabid Black Republican friends.—A few young admirers of "Little Mac," procured a full length portrait of their favorite and swung it across Bridge street, the line of march of the procession, and when the gallant 24th caught sight of their favorite General, they did precisely what all soldiers who have served under him do—sent up cheer upon cheer, which made the revilers of Geo. B. McClellan knock their knees together with fear, and hide their faces in shame. Loyal Leaguers may defame him in the recesses of their secret Lodges, but they dare not do it in the presence of the brave boys of the old 24th. The returned soldiers will take care of the reputation of their beloved commander, and within two years they, with the assistance of the Democracy, will place him where he can afford to laugh at the puny and futile efforts of his Abolition shoddy enemies, to degrade him. 
Yours, &c.,

A Signal.—Immediately upon the departure of the Twenty-fourth regiment from Syracuse, to-morrow, for this city, Mr. E. P. ALEXANDER, Manager of the telegraph office in this city, will cause the American ensign to be run up on the flagstaff of the Telegraph office.

SANDY CREEK. —We learn from the Sandy Creek Times that the people of that town gave a flattering reception to their company of the 24th, whose departure from Rome we chronicled in a former number. The Times says: 
On Wednesday morning last, some 4,000 people assembled at Sandy Creek station, to receive company G. At 10.58 the cars arrived which were to bring them. But the relatives and friends of many were doomed to disappointment: only a few arrived. The train which leaves Rome at 7 A. M. is a freight train, with one passenger car attached. We learn that, there not being room enough for the accommodation of all the passengers, company G understanding that the conductor would hitch on another car, did not get aboard; but when they discovered that instead of another car being attached, the train "was off," had left and would not return on that day, those that happened to be nearest "double-quicked" it, and a few just managed to get aboard. We learn that the conductor, who had not even given the proper warning, was offered $100 by the boys if he would back down so that they could get aboard. But no, accommodate them he wouldn't and didn't. The non-arrival of the company, in consequence of this gentlemanly and accommodating conductor, (!) subjected not only the company to chagrin and disappointment, but their friends and relatives, and the multitude which were assembled to receive them. Consequently the exercises were postponed till evening.
At 5.48 the train arrived, and with it the company. After a few moments of greeting, they "fell in," and A. Wart, Esq., President of the day, addressed them, welcoming them back to their former place of residence and friends. The address was responded to by Capt. Ferguson. At the close of the response, company G were escorted to the village, the procession being fully three-fourths of a mile long, preceded by two banners, one containing the names of the honored dead of company G, and the other the battle-fields on which the company had been engaged. On arriving at the green near the Town Hall, where tables had been spread for them, company G sat down to the good things which had been prepared by our citizens. At the close of the repast, reception speeches were made by the Revs. Chapin, and I. R. Bradnack; a poem was also read by the latter, followed by resolutions and toasts.

Arrival of the 24th Regiment.
The remnant of the first Oswego Regiment numbering between three and four hundred, was mustered out of service at Elmyra [sic], on Saturday last, and arrived in our city on Tuesday afternoon. The day was unpropitious, a cold north-west storm having prevailed, accompanied by frequent showers, the air was damp and chilly—yet their reception was a perfect ovation. Our streets were thronged with people from all parts of the county, and from almost every prominent point, and from numerous dwel­lings the national flag floated proudly to the breeze. About 2 o'clock the 148th Reg't and the Fire Department, with the Union and the Sax Horn bands, were in their places according to the programme of the committee, and every thing was in readiness for the reception. The train with the 24th did not arrive until near 5 o'clock, and was announced by the firing of cannon and the ringing of bells. Their arrival at the depot was the signal for the most enthusiastic outburst of enthusiasm which we have ever witnessed, and the war-worn soldiers took their place in the procession, headed by Col. S. R. BEARDSLEY and his staff, who were mounted, amid the cheering of thousands, and the embraces of their friends, and was escorted through the principal streets of the city to the West Public Square where the regiment was welcomed in an eloquent address by ex-Mayor Fort, which was responded to by Col. Beardsley.
After the conclusion of the exercises on the Square, the soldiers were conducted to Doolittle Hall, where an elegant and most sumptuous repast was provided by the ladies of the city. Here they enjoyed themselves to their heart's content, and were unanimous in the opinion that the hardtack of the camp had given a zest to the comforts and luxuries of home. They did ample justice to the viands so bountifully served, and at the conclusion gave three hearty cheers for their fair entertainers.
Among the incidents of the day, not the least noticable [sic] occurred on West Bridge street near the bridge. A beautiful life-size portrait of Gen. McClellan, their commander at the hard-fought battles of South Mountain and Antietam, was suspended over the street, and as the soldiers turned from First into Bridge street, and their eyes caught a sight of the well known figure, an enthusiastic and spontaneous shout broke forth, evincing, by continual cheers, their admiration for their beloved commander.—The mounted officers of the regiment, raised their hats as they passed under the portrait. 
About the centre of the bridge was erected a beautiful arch, trimmed with flowers and evergreens, bearing the mottos "24, Welcome, Brave Boys, 24." "South Mountain," "Antietam." Numerous buildings were handsomely decorated with flags and mottos. The Jefferson Block had flags of red, white and blue from every window and several appropriate mottos, and presented a gay and beautiful appearance. We have not time to notice in detail, the many happy devices got up to make this a gala day for our returning braves and their numerous friends—and while we would rejoice with those who are again permitted to mingle with their friends, we would not forget that numerous class who are called to mourn the loss of their loved ones in this wicked war. More than one hundred of this regi­ment who two years since went out from among us in the full strength of their manhood, have found a soldier's grave; and while we cheer the living, let us honor the memory of those who have bravely given their lives to their country.

The Returned Volunteers.
A large number of the returned volunteers were paid off at the Arsenal, at Albany, on Thursday May 28th, and most of them, after buying various articles of wearing apparel, left for their homes, in the evening train. At one time there were some three thousand of these soldiers in the city of Albany, entirely released from the strict discipline and arduous duties to which they had been confined for two years, and suddenly meeting with all the temptations of city life, it was to be expected that many of them would be led into excesses hurtful to themselves and obnoxious to the laws, yet with but occasional exceptions, they have conducted themselves in a manner creditable to themselves and as best becomes American soldiers. It is with pleasure that we make this record, because it proves that the generally accepted theory that camp life unfits men for the quiet walks of private life, does not hold good so far as our citizen soldiery are concerned.

The McClellan Portrait.
The Times of last evening contained the
"A knot of malignant Copperherds [sic] in our city men who have opposed the war from the first, and therefore have ever believed that McClellan was the man to carry it on were determined to make a little partisan capital.
They circulated a subscription paper, and made arrangements for displaying across the street a portrait of McClellan, with a bannar [sic] appropriate to his Presidential aspirations. For some reason or other, the banner for which they had arranged did not make its appearance but the portrait did.
* * * * * *
They expected to have their banner enthusiastically cheered by the soldiers and everybody else, and thus a nice bit of political capital would be made. Alas for the mutability of human expectations! the affair proved a dead fizzle—a complete "flat out." When the soldiers came under the McClellan portrait, Quartermaster Richardson made a prodigious attempt to get up a cheer. He swung his cap to the men, shouting as loud as he could. But not a soldier responded, so far as we were able to perceive. Nobody cheered except about a dozen dock loafers, who had been brought there for that purpose. Such a sickly attempt at cheering was never before witnessed.
In a few moments afterwards, the McClellan portrait was hauled into the window, and was not again exhibited during the day. * * * * *
The only thing approaching to a respectable cheer was got off by one of the Fire companies, who, as they passed under the banner, gave three groans for McClellan and three cheers for Hooker. 
* * * * * *
We republish the above to show our readers the barefaced and shameless effrontery of the editor of the Times. Scarcely a statement in the whole article has the least semblance of truth. In the first place, "men who opposed the war from the first" did not get up the McClellan portrait; nor was it got up by politicians for political effect; nor was a "subscription circulated;" nor was it ever suggested to make a "banner appropriate to his (McClellan's) Presidential aspirations." The project was got up by some young men, because they believed it would gratify their comrades in the 24th regiment, to see, on their reception, the figure of their beloved General. The  contributions to pay for it were entirely spontaneous, and made by some who had voted for Mr. Lincoln as well as by others; and as for Gen. McClellans's "Presidential aspirations," none but such green-eyed malignants as the editor of the Times, ever believed that he had any. The reason why the "banner" did not make its appearance, was, that no such was ever contemplated, and the exhibitions the editor has made of himself in regard to it, both in his paper and elsewhere, indicate his hateful feeling towards the general, who, above all others, has the confidence and love of his soldiers.
When the editor says that the portrait was not saluted with enthusiasm by the soldiers, he states what is known to be false by hundreds, if not thousands of witnesses. The mounted officers, including Col. Beardsley, Lt. Col. Oliver, Maj. Richards, Quarter-Master Richardson and Adj't Hill, each passed it with uncovered heads—the highest token of respect from a soldier—and the men, though weary from their journey cheered it enthusiastically. This occurred on two occasions, both on their passage out, and on their return from the east side of the river. We are assured by those who know, that there is not a soldier in the regiment but will cheer for McClellan. They did it at South Mountain and Antietam and have had no occasion to change their sentiments in regard to the General who guided them in those scenes of carnage and of death. The portrait was taken in when it had served the purpose for which it was intended.
In regard to the "groaning" by one of the Fire Companies as it passed under the portrait, and the cheers for Hooker, we believe to be as false as the other statements in the article, and we challenge the editor to designate the Company or the individual who did such a thing as to "groan" at the portrait of McClellan. For the honor of our firemen we assert that the statement is infamously false. Three at least of the Fire Companies did cheer the portrait, and what astonishes us in this matter is, that any person, making any claim to respectability, can concoct an article, and send it forth to the public, so palpably false, and known to be so by the community. The man who can so insult the public sense, has passed the bounds of decency, and is fit for "treason, stratagem and spoil." But we must leave him to the judgment of the people.—A press, though a lying one, must be tolerated; and speech must be free though it sometimes slanders the good and the brave.
Yesterday our citizens endeavored to receive with fitting honors the war-worn veterans of the Twenty-fourth regiment, who have so nobly done their duty to their country through the hardships, toil and battle of a two years' campaign. There never was a demonstration which called louder for unanimous and harmoniuus [sic] action, and it was thought that upon such an occasion all would refrain from any display of partisanship. 
So says the Times of yesterday, and in the same paper in giving an account of the proceedings in the Public Square, says "the Rev. Mr. Haynes addressed to the Throne of Grace a prayer appropriate to the occasion, in which he administered a scathing denunciation of "Copperheadism." This is the way that Republican Abolitionists regard the decencies due to an occasion like this. It was almost a criminal act for a few patriotic young men to exhibit a portrait of a general to his soldiers, but it is highly "appropriate" for a Clergyman in "addressing the Throne of Grace" to denounce a large portion—probably a majority of those who listened to him, as "Copperheads," —for that kindly appelation has been given to all who do not approve of all the measures of the administration. The administration—we beg pardon—the "Government" —applied it to the democratic ticket in New Hampshire, when it caused Lt. Edgerly to be dismissed from the service for voting the "Coppeshead [sic] ticket." It has been applied to Gov. Seymour and all who sustain him in this state, which is a great majority of its voters—and it is "appropriate," according to the Times, for a professed follower of the "meek and lowly," in "addressing the Throne of Grace," to insult with blackguard epithets a great portion of the people. We have no patience with the vile hypocrites who, under the garb of a holy religion, can take advantage of an occasion like this, to pander to the most hateful of human passions. Nothing but the respect which our people feel for the sacred profession which this man assumes, could save him from public insult in retaliation. He is a disgrace to the calling which he has assumed.
Company G, of the 24th regiment, on arriving at Sandy Creek Station, found about four thousand people there to welcome them home. An address of welcome was delivered by Mr. A. Wart, which was responded to by Capt. Ferguson. A sumptuous entertainment was provided for the gallant boys at the Town Hall, to which they did ample justice.

THE MILITARY SPIRIT—THE TWENTY-FOURTH REGIMENT.—On the receipt of the exciting war news which is to be found in another column, last evening, the "military fever" began to rise. The Drum Corps paraded the streets, which added to the excitement.
It is more than probable that the Twenty-fourth regiment will not be called for service at this juncture.

GRAND RECEPTION.—Company D, of the 24th regiment, had a grand reception given them by the citizens of Central Square. Thousands of people assembled to witness the arrival of the brave fellows, and to welcome them home. ELDER WOODIN addressed the company in a very forcible and appropriate manner. The citizens had a most excellent supper provided which was much relished by the returned soldiers.

The Twenty-Fourth Regiment.
A meeting of the companies composing the Twenty-fourth regiment was held last evening, for the purpose of reporting to the Colonel the number of men enlisted in each company for service in the field.
Reports were made to Col. Babcock by the various commanding officers, as follows:
Company R, "City Artillery," Capt. Davis—63 men.
Company L, "City Rifles," Capt. Rapp—30 men.
Company A, "Republican Guards," Capt. McAuliff—6 men.
Company B, "Jackson Guards," Capt. Bowen— 6 men.
Company C, "Columbian Guards," Capt. Brennan—15 men.
Company D, Capt. Knowlson—40 men.
Company E, "Wool Guards," Capt. Timpane—21 men.
Company F, Capt. Upham—35 men.
Company G, Capt. Cusack—65 men.
Company H, Capt. Calder—46 men.
The above figures embrace the officers in all cases. The number of men willing to go did not number 350, all told. Several of the companies refused to go until "drafted," &c. 
Captain Cusack has the largest number of men, of any company—the Artillery coming next.
The regiment will not leave to-day, positively. In the meantime recruiting will be continued.
A despatch from the Adjutant-General yesterday stated that it was obligatory on every member of an organized company to take the field, or else suffer the consequence, which is punishment as a deserter.
It is very probable that in case the regiment is wanted by the government, the names of the refractory members will be placed in the hands of the Provost Marshal.

Reception of the Twenty-Fourth Regiment at Oswego.
OSWEGO, N, Y., June 2.
Editors Atlas & Argus:
To-day the remnant of the 24th Regiment N. Y. S. Vols. which, two years ago, went out from among us to fight for the restoration of the Union, returned to their friends and homes.—They met with a most cordial reception from their fellow townsmen. The people of this city and vicinity turned out en masse to receive them. The Regiment reached here under charge of Col. S. R Beardsley at about 5 o'clock P. M., and were received at the depot by the 48th Regiment, N. Y. S. Militia, the Fire Department, Committee of Arrangements, and citizens generally. The war-worn veterans marched down West First street to Bridge st., along Bridge street across the River Bridge.—In the centre of the Bridge was erected a magnificent arch, on which was inscribed the memorable names of Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam and Fredericksburgh [sic], the battles in which the Regiment had participated. 
Returning, they proceeded to the West Public Park where reception speeches were made by Hon. Wm. Lewis and others, on behalf of the citizens, and replied to by Col. Beardsley in behalf of the regiment. The regiment and invited guests thereupon repaired to Doolittle Hall where a substantial and magnificent supper had been prepared for the returned soldiers, by the voluntary contributions of the patriotic ladies of Oswego. The brave boys partook of the good things set before them, amid the congratulations of their friends, and having thus completed the programme of their entertainment, separated for their respective homes. The reception was an appropriate and successful one, every body seeming satisfied and happy, except a few of our rabid Black Republican friends.—A few young admirers of "Little Mac," procured a full length portrait of their favorite and swung it across Bridge street, the line of march of the procession, and when the gallant 24th caught sight of their favorite General, they did precisely what all soldiers who have served under him do—sent up cheer upon cheer, which made the revilers of Geo. B. McClellan knock their knees together with fear, and hide their faces in shame. Loyal Leaguers may defame him in the recesses of their secret Lodges, but they dare not do it in the presence of the brave boys of the old 24th. The returned soldiers will take care of the reputation of their beloved commander, and within two years they, with the assistance of the Democracy, will place him where he can afford to laugh at the puny and futile efforts of his Abolition shoddy enemies, to degrade him. Yours, &c.,

OSWEGO REGIMENT.—Lieutenant Colonel Beardsley and Adjutant Oliver are in Oswego, and Lieut. Goit in Mexico, recruiting for the 24th. Sergeant Glaser will go on with forty or fifty men next week. There is a fair prospect of filling up the Regiment to the standard of 1046.

NEW YORK VOLUNTEERS.—Dr. W. H. Rice, of Hastings, has been appointed surgeon of the new Oswego Regiment.

THEATRE.—A great bill is offered at the theatre this evening. The performance will commence with the charming comedy, in two acts, entitled "The Merry Monarch, or Charles the II," which will be followed by the laughable farce of the "Dead Shot." The entertainment will conclude with a grand National tableau which is dedicated to the 24th Regiment, N. Y. S. V. The first tableau will be a representation of the "Charge at Antietam;" the second "The Night after the Battle" followed by the allegorical tableau of "Liberty," "Justice'' and "Fame."

TWENTY-FOURTH REGIMENT.—The Times reminds the officers and members of the Twenty-fourth regiment, that their former offer to the War Committee, to be received as a nine month's regiment, can now be accepted, and hopes that the regiment will respond with alacrity. The Twenty-fourth was never before in such a high state of efficiency, or with ranks so full, as at the present time. The organization is now without a Colonel, in consequence of the resignation of Col. Crandell, but that is a matter which can soon be settled.—The regiment embraces eight or nine companies each company numbering at least thirty men. The recent order of Adjutant Hillhouse, accepting nine months' volunteers, and crediting them to the quotas of the localities in which they may reside, will no doubt meet with a liberal response all over the State. Albany county has her Tenth regiment all ready nearly organized and ready to take the field. With this regiment off, our neighbors will be rid of the draft. What course will be pursued here in regard to organizing nine mouths' companies, or a none months' regiment, remains to be seen. It is to be hoped, however, that with the aid of the favorable opportunities now offered by the authorities, the necessity for a draft will be done away with, at least in Rensselaer county.

Capt. Beardsley and his Company.
ELMIRA, May 24, 1863.
At a meeting of Company I, 24th Regt., N. Y. S. V., held this day, the following preamble and resolutions were unanimously adopted, and signed by all present: 
Whereas, Before our organization shall be disbanded, we, as a Company, desire to give expression to our views and feelings in reference to one whom we have ever esteemed and do now highly esteem, hereby offer as a last tribute of respect the following resolutions:
Resolved, That, while entertaining great regard for our present Captain, William L. Yeckley, we remember with affection and admiration our old commander, Levi Beardsley, Esq. He was the man with whom we enlisted, and our connection with him was of such a character as to prevent a dismemberment of the Company without a re-assurance on our part of lasting friendship cherished by us towards him. 
Resolved, That in Levi Beardsley, Esq., we found the qualities of a soldier, a gentleman, and a friend. During his service with us he devoted himself to the welfare of his command. Firm in his demand of obedience, he was lenient—and above all strictly just. He cheerfully shared with us the hardship and danger of the campaign, notwithstanding his health was at times so critical as to forbid the hope of his continuance in command.
Resolved, That we who know him best, heard with surprise and regret the reports current last fall in reference to misbehavior on the part of certain officers, himself included; and while we believe that he regards such reports as the idle wind, we desire now and here to give t... to those statements as far as they relate to him. ...thfully performed his duty at the head of his Company, until severely disabled at Manassas.
Resolved, That apprehensions of seeing rebels prevented several persons from seeing Capt. Beardsley. Consequently a gallant officer was traduced by irresponsible parties, either designedly or through inexcusable ignorance.
Resolved, That we have ever regretted the necessity of Capt Beardsley's resignation, but congratulate ourselves on having as his successor one so eminently worthy as our present commander.
Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be transmitted by the Secretary to Levi Beardsley, Esq., and also that a copy be transmitted to the OSWEGO COMMERCIAL TIMES for publication.
Sergt. R. M. Wilson,   Sergt. M. Ott,
Sergt, C. W. Smith,     Sergt. C. F. Lewis,
Sergt. Geo. C. Munro,            Corp. L. C. Remlie,
Corp. Levi Nihoff,      Corp. Horace Taylor,
Corp. Wm. Mcladden,            Henry Allen,
Joseph Allen,               L. C. Bentley,
James Brookwire,                    O. R. Bates,
D. C. Curtis,                Eli Cornwell,
Clark Cummins,                      John Day,
Joseph Ernest,                         Geo. Gresmer,
Samuel Gooro,                        George Gurnsey,
Geo. McIntyre,                       Chas. Mills,
Conger Monro,                        James Hammond,
James Hinman,                        Thos. Nolen,
Lewis Belsea,              S. S. Rivett,
Gilbert Turner,                        Richard Woodburn,
L. B. May,
Sergt. GEO. C. MUNRO, Secretary.

WASHINGTON, D. C., June 6th, 1863.
To the Members of the late Co. I, 24th Regiment N. Y. S. V.:
GENTLEMEN:--Through the Secretary of your meeting, (held at Elmira on the 24th ult.,) I have received a copy of the resolutions adopted on that occasion. 
These resolutions so unexpected and unusual are most welcome, and while endowing me with great credit, they bring with them the germ of sincerity, and exhibit clearly the motives which called them forth. No person, unless similarly situated, can comprehend the relations existing between a company and its commander, whose associations have been identical, and whose friendship has been so reciprocal as ours. During my eighteen months service with you, a mutual regard sprang up between us which continued and increased as the hour of separation drew near. Though your laudations are next to extravagant, I can justly speak of you in terms of high commendation, and assure you that the affection expressed for me, is cordially returned.
In common with the gallant "24th," you have earned distinction, and are well worthy the title of "braves of the Iron Brigade." You cheerfully offered your lives upon the altar of our country, and have been consecrated in the blood of fallen comrades. You have gained a name and a reputation of incalculable value, and should be enshrined in the memory of a grateful commonwealth.
Some of your immediate companions have lain down to die, in Virginia, as calmly as you now seek rest at night, and had you also been called to answer at the muster of death, I doubt not but that our response would have been as clear and calm as theirs. Reduced in number, to less than one-half of those who have within the last two years appeared on your roll, but unbroken in spirit, you maintained to the end, in your rags and roughness, the same devotion to the cause and its duties, as when with music and banners you first "passed in review." Remembrances of your arduous labors, your obedience, with your unvarying friendship, will attend me through life. 
The resolutions refer to "reports current last Fall, in reference to mis-behavior on the part of certain officers, myself included." Conscious of having performed my duty, as well as impaired health permitted, and knowing that I possessed your confidence, and the confidence of those in authority at Washington, prevented me from seriously regarding these misrepresentations. Nor did I seek by counter-charges or recrimination, to establish myself to the discomfiture of others. I was abundantly able to afford the use of my name, in common with others, to be tossed about by a few who came to the surface in the great commotion of the country, merely to sink again into obscurity when all becomes calm. I have yet to see a man who is loud in condemnation of others, (either as relates to religion, business, politics, society, or war,) but that has some spectre of his own to hide beneath the tirade of words. But I particularize no individual as having designedly sought to injure me. In an hour of great excitement, unless a man becomes rigidly cool, he is apt to see nothing and know nothing of events and persons, excepting those events are transpiring at his side, and those persons are at his hand, and it is human nature for one to take great credit upon himself in such times, (particularly if he behaves creditably,) even at the expense of others.
In conclusion, fellow-soldiers, permit me to remark that though your labors in the field are for the present suspended, you have work to perform at home. There are a large number of men at the North who are in secret sympathy with the rebellion. They may pass among their neighbors as loyal, but they need watching. The Republican and Democratic parties proper, if such organizations still exist, are loyal; but there are individuals perhaps prominent in these organizations, who are worse than those against whom you have, for so long, been contending. On the one hand you find an open, fearless, fighting enemy, and on the other, a sneaking, thin-skinned, cowardly demagogue, who, while profressing [sic] loyalty to the "Union as it was, and the Constitution as it is," secretly devises plans to prostrate the power of the Govern­ment, and coerce the people into an ignoble peace. When you hear of a very conserva­tive man —one who is prophecying at all times reverses; who extols some Generals and disparages others, and appeals to the returned volunteers to stand by those who have been "cruelly ostracized"; one who is continually finding fault with the Administration, and thereby to the extent of his ability paralysing the efforts of the Administration to crush treason, look out for him! No matter how highly you esteem certain Generals, beware of those civilians who profess to esteem them in contradistinction to the Administration. Their hatred towards the Government is far more intense, than is their love or admiration for any military commander. Show your estimate of favorites by putting a quietus upon these fellows who are seeking to use them for bad purposes. Better become iconoclasts yourselves, than to bow with those who seek, both your ruin and the ruin of your idol!
Northern traitors should be watched at the ballot-box by all loyal men, but particularly by the returned volunteers. If there was a period in our difficulties when an offer of compromise on our part might have been followed by happy results, (which I very much doubt,) that hour has passed. We should be unwilling to consider compromises coming from the enemy, and offer none which could by any possibility lower our Government in the opinion of the world, or in our own estimation.
I have written an extended, letter but its length will be pardoned, as it is the last communication we shall probably, ever receive or offer as a company and commander. May your homes be happy, and may God protect and bless you, and in His own good time reward your labors with the fruits of peace, prosperity, and an undivided free Republic. Sincerely yours,

... great body of the rebel army, and our advance became cautious accordingly. At Bailey's Roads, about 5 o'clock P. M., we came to a halt
for the night.
Wet, hungry and weary, about one-half the regiment were thrown out as pickets, and the rest slept on their guns. We were now the outpost—the furthest from Washington—the nearest the enemy; and this position we have occupied since. We have thrown up a breastwork at Arlington Mills, which we call headquarters.—We are without tents, and sleep in the open air, on our arms. But I find I am making the explanation of my address longer than I expected, and I am now in a dilemma whether to proceed and give the other details and various little war items, or stop short at this point, and not give you my address this time, at all. I think I'll catch the latter horn of the dilemma, and come to a period. But still, I'd like a copy of your paper, and I don't like to give you my name. I am bashful; what shall I do? I have it now; I'll get you to send it to our Captain. So if you will direct to Capt. A. J. Barney, 24th Reg't. N. Y. S. V., care of Col. Sullivan, Washington,
D. C., I'll be sure to get it; for I'll speak to the Captain about it, and I'll be much obliged.
Yours, &c., JEAN.

It is undoubtedly very easy and pleasant for one to sit in an arm-chair at the table in his cozy library, and fasten his wandering thoughts to paper; but somehow when one has marched all day with knapsack and accoutrements, under a sweltering sun or through a soaking rain, he is apt to think more of resting than of writing. Partly on this account, partly that his spare time has been engrossed by the novelty of new scenes, your correspondent has been for quite a long time silent; but to-day he is a half-invalid and an estray from the regiment—escaped from the distant noise of drums even, and in a solitude almost as complete as Zimmerman could, wish.
Birches and sycamores are at once fettered and crowned by loving grape-vines overhead; purple wild flowers modestly uncover their delicate heads to the sunbeams which fall through the overhanging branches, and past the roots of the old trees flow the turbid waters of Broad Run, which unites with the more celebrated, though smaller stream, Bull Run, in forming the Occoquan. Here I will try once, more to tell something of the whereabouts of the Twenty-fourth, which my last letter (not contraband) left comfortably tented at Upton's Hill. Since then we have had many marchings and counter-marchings. To Centerville—to Alexandria—to Upton's Hill again—to the camp near Alexandria—to Annandale—to Bull's Run—and finally to our present encampment.
We, as well as the rest of the corps lately McDowell's, arrived here the 6th, and with the rest, generally survives the following three days' storm of rain, hail, and snow. Since then we have not been ill off. The spring sun shines cheerfully on the valleys and hill-sides, of Prince Williams county, and the fields and forests just changing to green, with the calm stillness of rural spring time, give our life here charms the more welcome to us that we have spent the entire past year amid "the dreary sounds of crowded earth, the cries of camp and town.
So I may be prejudiced in favor of the scenery here, but in my eyes it is as beautiful as any land lacking lakes and rivers can be. Our camp is pitched on a hill of moderate height and slope, and looks down on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, with its trains of cars continually passing and repassing, while beyond and above the little hamlet of Brentsville appears, with a few white houses standing among the hills. At the left, and still before us, is the yellow earth of Manassas Junction and the scattering earthworks about it, and at the right a distant, curving ridge covered with forest indicates the course of the Rappahannock. In the rear of our camp the Blue Ridge shows its jagged line covered with snow, and towards its base patches of evergreen, cedars, and pines, and laurels, dot the landscapes.

"These are fit scenes for pastoral dance at even,
For moonlight rovings in the fragrant glades,
Soft slumbers in the open eye of Heaven,
And all the listless joy of summer shades."

But this beautiful country seems to have been peculiarly fatal to the rebels. Nearly every hill-top is the site of a rude grave-yard, and hundreds from Alabama and Mississippi regiments have been buried within the compass of two or three square miles, during the months of August and September. The graves of these rebels appear to have had little care bestowed on them—some with nothing to tell their names or residences; others have boards carelessly placed at their heads, containing the names, regiments, and homes of the deceased, marked in pencil, the spelling and chirography being in many instances so bad as to make the inscription almost undecipherable. In the old cemeteries many of the dead have been taken up by their friends and car…

—Gov. Seymour and numerous military dignitaries were engaged yesterday in making arrangements to respond to the call of the General Government for twelve thousand one hundred days' men. We learn that among the regiments placed on the list of those available to be sent off, was the Twenty-fourth, of this city. Up to noon to-day, however, no organizations had been specially designated. We find that the feeling among the members of the Twenty-fourth is strongly in favor of going to the Pennsylvania border. Uniforms alone are lacking, and these will be supplied by the United States. We understand that the members of the Troy City Artillery, in case they cannot go with their own regiment, intend to volunteer to accompany the twenty-fifth, of Albany, as an infantry company. Much has been said, so far, in earnest and fun, about the "Twenty-fourth going." It really looks now as if a part of the regiment, at least, will see service.

The 34th Regiment, under command of Col. Wm. Ledew, left Albany at 6 p.   m. on Tuesday, and arrived off the foot of Vesey street at 1 p. m. on Wednesday. This is the last of the Volunteer Regiments quartered at the Albany Volunteer Depot, to move forward. The regiment numbers over 800 full-sized, strong and athletic young men, who have been employed principally as farmers and mechanics. One half the regiment was recruited in Herkeimer [sic] County, the remaining half having been raised in Steuben, Essex and Clinton Counties, and one company from Troy. The regiment is fully armed and equipped, having a full supply of tents and camp equipage. The field-officers are mounted on very fine horses. The ladies of Little Falls presented the regiment with a beautiful United States flag. The Rev. J. H. Adams of Little Falls, presented the regiment with a handsome stand of regimental colors. The friends of Company A, of Troy, presented them with a very fine American flag before their departure. 
We give a list of the officers below:
Field and Staff—Colonel Wm. Ledew; Lieut.-Colonel, James
Surter; Major, Byron Laflin; Adjutant, Wm. Thompson; Quartermaster,
N. Esterbrooks; Paymaster, Charles Warnbaugh; Surgeon, S. N. Sherman; Asistant-Surgeon, Walker; Chaplain, J. B. Van Trotten (Principal of the Fairfield Seminary). 
Non-Commissioned Staff—Sergeant Major, Kirk; Quartermaster-
Sergeant, John Fitchet; Drum-Major, M. Heath; Fife-Major, E. White.
Line Officers—Company A, of Troy, Captain, Oswald; Lieut., Brown; Ensign, Wafner.
Company B, of Little Falls, Captain, W. Sponable; Lieut., Fralick; Ensign, Clark.
Company C, of Graysville, Capt., Corcoran; Lieut., Butler; Ensign, Wm. S. Bort.
Company D, of Champlain Village, Capt., Rich; Lieut., Scott; Ensign, Miner.
Company E, of Addison, Capt. Baldwin; Lieut., Carr; Ensign, Shafner.
Company F of Herkimer, Capt., Riley; Lieut., Shoemaker; Ensign, Wm. Helnur.
Company G, of Mohawk, Capt., Brown; Lieut., Mack; Ensign, Shafner.
Company H, of Crown point, Capt., Doolittle; Lieut., Buck; Ensign, Bright.
Company I, of Hammondsport, Capt., King; Lieut., Atwood; Ensign, Brundage.
Company K, of Brockett's Bridge, Capt., Beverley; Lieut., Chamberlain; Ensign, Northrop.
The barges containing the 34th crossed to the Jersey City Railroad Depot at 6 p. m., where the men took the cars for Washington, via Baltimore.

ELMIRA, July 2, 1861.
The Oswego Twenty-fourth regiment, Colonel Sullivan, left here this afternoon, at three o'clock, for Washington, via Harrisburg.
The Southern tier Twenty-third regiment, Colonel Hoffman, will leave on Saturday.

Williamsport, PA., July 2, 1861.
The Twenty-fourth New York regiment, of Oswego, passed through here for Washington this evening, via the Elmira and Northern Central Railroads. Two other New York regiments will follow by the same route this week.

Funeral.—The funeral of the late Col. James C. Clark will take place to-morrow afternoon. The Twenty-fourth regiment, Mayor and Common Council will attend it.

THE OLD TWENTY-FOURTH IN THE Field.—Capt. JAMES ROOT of the old Twenty Fourth and Lieut. WM. S. MORSE of the same regiment have pitched a tent at the corner of West First and Bridge Sts. They both have the experience of two years service in the army and are now recruiting a company for the new regiment.

Oswego, Monday Evening, April 11.
The veterans of the old Twenty-Fourth (first Oswego county) regiment will be pleased to learn that the Flag which they so gallantly followed and so nobly sustained on so many bloody fields, is on exhibition, at the New York Sanitary Fair, in the department of "Flags, Trophies and Relics"—a mute but eloquent witness of their bravery and patriotism. It was deposited by Col. S. R. BEARDSLEY, and bears upon one side the inscription: "24th Regiment, Iron Brigade, 1st Division, 1st Army Corps; and on the other: "Falmouth,"
"Rappahannock Station," "Warrenton Springs," "Gainsville," "Groveton," "Bull Run," "South Mountain," "Antietam," "Fredericksburg," "Rappahannock Crossing," "Chancellorsville,"—a record which will live among the brightest in the country's history.