slight tremble in his voice, and it was no shame on our manhood that ‘something upon the soldier's cheek washed off the stains of powder’; that our tears answered to those in the eyes of our grand old chieftain, and that we could only grasp the hand of ‘Uncle Robert’ and pray, ‘God help you, General.’ His last order, issued that day, April 9, 1865, is historical, and I will not refer to it. I will only say, could anything be grander? Thus our battle flags were furled forever, and we bade a long farewell ‘to all quality, pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war.’ Thus were the five companies of the Battalion of Washington Artillery tried, ‘amidst the clangor of resounding arms,’ during the four years of active warfare, gaining for themselves the admiration not only of their own countrymen, but of the soldiers of the world— never lacking in spirit, energy, and courage, ‘stern to inflict, stubborn to endure, yet smiling undaunted in the face of death.’ In their country's cause, and in support of principles to them sacred, their guidons were carried from the Susquehanna to the Gulf of Mexico. The guns reverberating over and beyond the hills and valleys of the Blue Ridge, were reechoed by those of gallant Slocomb and Chalaron, in the mountains of Georgia and Tennessee. Scarcely had the smoke of battle curled in wreaths above the pines of Virginia, than our brothers in the West took up and prolonged the dreadful note. Then our guns were never quiet; now their roar is heard only resounding ‘down the corridors of time.’ And with the talented Zariffa we say—
From the war-graves of Manassas,All shall ever be unforgotten by us. The names and gallant deeds of our fallen comrades shall live forever in our memories and upon the records of the battalion. And now a few words to the present organization of the Washington
Fredericksburg and Malvern Hill,
Carrick's Ford and Massanutton,
Fast the Shadowy Legions fill.
From the far off Rappahannock,
From the red fields of Cross Keys,
From defeat and victories.
Tired trooper—weary marcher—
Grim and sturdy cannoneer—
Veteran gray, and slender stripling,