I arrived at Philadelphia the night of September 10th. There had been a serious riot during the evening, between the soldiers from the hospital and some of those patriotic citizens who, although painfully loyal at times, have a great antipathy to blue. I reached the Citizens' Hospital without molestation. The next morning a large crowd of rioters gathered in the vicinity of the hospital, and a murderous raid was anticipated; but they dispersed without any demonstration.

From Philadelphia I was transferred, at my own request, to Little York, Pennsylvania. Although now quite recovered, I was detained here some time, in the hospital drum corps, as a musician. We went out one night, on the occasion of a Republican meeting. We started to parade the principal streets with a transparency, the usual following of small boys, etc. A crowd of patriots cheerfully greeted us with stones, brickbats, and like tokens of sympathy. We returned to headquarters in about twenty minutes, a demoralized outfit. The bass drum was broken, one drummer's head was peeled, the transparency was smashed, and we were mad. The managers gave us a dollar apiece; we disposed of our instruments, and started up street to look for any little incident that might afford balm for our wounded feelings. Opportunities were plenty, and many a cracked head bore testimony to the zeal with which the great national issues were discussed.

About the middle of October, myself and a large number of other convalescents started to rejoin our regiments, at the front. We went by rail to Baltimore, and remained over night at Fort Federal Hill, to go on by steamer, on the morrow. The "heavies," doing garrison duty here, were accustomed to dealing with recruits, and counted on making them step around in fine military style. This crowd was composed of men to whom soldiering was no novelty, and they had no fancy for extras. Hence, when they were ordered, with much pomp and assurance, to fall in line, in front of the barracks that evening, for roll call, at nine o'clock, there was something of a scene. The anathematical display has rarely been equaled in modern times. Perhaps twenty-five men out of several hundred at last took their place in a sort of line, with much gravity and feigned decorum, playing green, standing in any thing but soldierly attitude. Behind them, perched on the railing, windows, or wherever they could best see the show, was about as unruly and uproarious a crowd as could well be found. After vainly trying to bring order out of confusion, the sergeant, in great disgust, began to call the roll. A name is called:

"Here!"

"Here!"

"Here!"

On all sides the word "Here" is bellowed and screamed by a score of voices. The face of the burly sergeant grows red with fury, but he proceeds.

"John Smith."

Another chorus of hooting, jeering response, and then, in a momentary lull of the hubbub, a stentorian voice solemnly announces:

"He's gone to —— long ago."

This rather startling announcement is hailed with another outburst of laughter, yells, and cat-calls, interjected with allusions to the sergeant, which were far from complimentary. Finally, having exhausted his extensive vocabulary of maledictions on that mob of obdurate sinners, this patriotic officer took himself away, and the boys turned in for the night.

The next forenoon we went on board a steamer, but did not start down the bay till toward evening. The vessel may be called "steamer" as a matter of courtesy. The thing went by steam, but I would not care to ship a cargo of hogs on such a contrivance, unless they were of the kind that ran violently down the mountain. During the night the weather changed. A strong wind, with rain, swept across the bay. I was asleep on the deck when the storm came on, and awoke thoroughly wet and cold. Leaving my water-soaked blanket where it lay, I started to go below. The door was closed. A soldier, standing in the hatchway, suggested that by our united efforts we could push it open. I put my shoulder against the door, and he braced himself against me, and we gave a heave. The door went open and I went in, plunging headlong into the crowd lying on the floor, as close as packed herring.Nobody swore, except those who were most severely bruised by our feet. There was an opening left in the side of the vessel, about two feet wide by twelve feet long. In the slow-going days before the war, this stately ship was probably used for transporting cattle, and the hole was made for the humane purpose of giving the animals air. Now it let in both air and water. I finally made my way down into the hold, and there, with the coal, dirt, and other things, found a more agreeable temperature. We reached Fortress Monroe the next evening. Here we were transferred to another vessel, and went up the James River, arriving at City Point the following evening.

This trip was very unpleasant. Besides the discomfort caused by the stormy weather, we were not provided with rations. No doubt provisions were furnished, and somebody got the benefit of them. On the second day those in charge of the vessel, in collusion with the officer in charge of our escort, proposed selling us lunch at the rate of fifty cents for a slice of meat and a piece of bread. Their enterprise did not pan out very well. But few bought, preferring hunger to submitting to the outrage. During the entire trip I ate not more than two ordinary hard-tacks.

Arriving at City Point, we were provided with a substantial supper. Our hotel accommodations, however, were not strictly first-class. Recruits and returning convalescents arriving here were provided with lodgings during their stay in a huge board structure known by the expressive name of "The Bull Pen." As to rooms, furnishings, and general appointments, the government had been exceedingly frugal. In fact, the entire outfit consisted of four walls, roof, and floor, joined together on principles of the strictest economy. The floor was comfortably carpeted with mud to the depth of about an inch and a half. Tobacco chewings, cigar stumps, etc., added variety and flavor.

On this particular occasion the institution was so crowded that you could not get room to lie down, all to yourself. This was no serious objection, as it furnished ample apology for resting your feet on the other fellow's stomach. Thieves found the "Bull Pen" an excellent place for plying their trade. The recruits and substitutes finding entertainment here usually had some money.This night, after the lights were out, and all had been quiet for some time, I lay doubled up on the floor still wide awake. In such a gathering there are usually some splendid snorers. This crowd had some performers of rare merit. My location was toward the end of the building. Lying here, listening drowsily to the odd sounds about me, I heard a slight commotion down toward the center of the building, then a blow, and the cry of "Thief!" Then more blows, a general rising up of that part of the congregation, and a pouring out of profane objurgations that was surprising. The swearing and pounding went on with great vigor for some minutes, those not directly engaged cheering the others on with hoots and yells. In fact, a free fight was going on down there in the intense darkness, every body thumping every one within reach, thinking to spot the thief. Finally some one struck a match. As its flickering rays lighted up the gloom, they revealed a dozen or so of disgusted combatants glaring savagely on each other, and each wanting to know who was the thief. Of course it was impossible to find him now.