What the army of the Potomac achieved and suffered before Yorktown, we must leave for the historian. Our soldier boy was only one hero among thousands who toiled in the soft mud of the early spring, who watched and waited for the tremendous events which have now passed into history, and whose actors will be honored and remembered by future generations.  
Tom Somers bore his full share of the trials and hardships of that eventful period; and when McClellan’s scientific engineering had driven the rebels from their strong works without a struggle to retain them, he moved forward with the gallant army. “On to Richmond!” again sounded along the lines, and the soldiers toiled through mud and mire, hoping and expecting to strike the final blow that would crush out the rebellion.
 
Yorktown was evacuated. The rebels were fleeing from their frowning batteries, and the order came for Hooker’s division to join in the pursuit. At noon the brigade—now under command of General Grover commenced its forward movement.
 
“Rather rough,” said Hapgood, as the regiment struggled on through the mire. “Rather soft, I think,” replied Tom, laughing.
 
“I hope we haven’t got to march far through this mud,” added Ben Lethbridge.
 
“That will depend upon how soon we come up with the rebels. If it rests with Hooker, I tell you he will get a fight out of the rebs, if such a thing is possible.”
 
After the regiment had marched five or six miles, the order came to halt; and the intelligence passed along the column that the cavalry had come up with the enemy, and were waiting the arrival of an infantry force to assist in the attack.
 
“Good!” shouted Tom. “We shall have a battle before night.”
 
“Perhaps not,” added Hapgood. “It takes the cat a good while to catch the mouse, even after she smells the critter.”
 
“Why don’t we march? What are we stopping here for?” said Tom, impatiently.
 
“They say Smith’s division has got in ahead of us. Keep cool, Tom; never be in a hurry for a battle. Some of us that stand here now won’t be alive in twenty-four hours from now; for I don’t believe the rebs are going to let us have it all our own way,” said the veteran.
 
“Nor I,” added Fred Pemberton. “I shall be killed in this fight.”
 
“How do you know, Fred?” demanded Hapgood, sternly.
 
“Of course I don’t know, but I feel it in my bones that I shall fall in the first battle.”
 
“Your bones ain’t no guide at all. I know something about this business, and I’ve seen croakers afore to-day. Don’t talk about being killed, or even hit. Be ready to die, do your duty like a soldier, and leave all the rest to your Maker,” said the veteran, solemnly.
 
“I don’t have any such feeling as that. I know I shan’t be killed,” laughed Ben. “The bullet hasn’t been cast yet that will stop my wind.”
 
“Perhaps it has, my boy. It may be in some rebel soldier’s cartridge box over yonder, even now. I tell you, boys, you don’t know any thing about it. Just afore we went in at Cerry Gordy, a feller by my side said the same thing you did, Ben; and he was the first man that went down. I tried to pick him up, and do something for him, but he was stone dead. I tell you, Ben, you don’t know any thing about it. Leave it all to the Almighty.”
 
“Pooh, uncle!” sneered Ben, trying to laugh down the solemn words of the old man. “Don’t you think we’d better have a prayer meetin’ before we go in?”
 
“I think we should fight the better for it, for he who trusts in God don’t fear death.”
 
But it was evident that the words of Hapgood, especially the incident of Cerro Gordo, had made a deep impression upon the mind of the thoughtless young man. Though the division did not move for three hours, he was very silent and sober. He seemed to feel that he had been tempting Providence by his bold speech, and even expressed his regret to Tom for what he had said.
 
It was dark when the order to march was given. The night was exceedingly gloomy, and the rain poured down upon the devoted army, as it moved forward to do its great work. Hour after hour, in the deep darkness and the pouring rain, the men struggled through the mire, expecting every moment to be hurled upon the rebel battalions, or to meet the impetuous onset of the foe.
 
Between ten and eleven, when the men were nearly worn out by the exhausting labors of the march, they were ordered to halt in the road, and bivouac for the rest of the night. What a time and what a place for repose! They could only wrap themselves up in their wet blankets, and stretch themselves upon the ground, soaked with water, and with the rain still pouring down upon them. But they slept, and enjoyed their rest, for Nature was imperative in her demands.
 
At daylight the march was resumed; for the intrepid Hooker, ever faithful to the trust confided to him, was wholly in earnest. At half-past five the column was halted in the woods. The rebel works before Williamsburg were in sight, and General Hooker rode to the front to examine the position of the enemy.
 
In front of the rebel batteries, and on each side of the roads, the trees had been felled, in order to give the guns in the field works full play upon an approaching force.
 
“Hurrah!” shouted some of the boys on the right of the column. “Our brigade is to commence the attack.”
 
“How do you know?” growled Hapgood, who did not think a soldier ought to know any thing about the plan of the battle.
 
“We are ordered to move,” replied Tom. “I suppose that’s all they know about it.”
 
The prophets on the right were correct this time, for the regiment was soon sent to the right of the road, and ordered to deploy as skirmishers. A battery was thrown forward in front of the felled timber; but before a gun could be fired, two officers and two privates were seen to fall before the unerring aim of the rebel sharpshooters, occupying the rifle pits which dotted the cleared land in front of the forts.
 
“That’s a hot p............