CYRUS G. PRINGLE.

P.S.--We are informed we are to be sent to the vicinity of Boston
tomorrow.

_27th._--On board train to Boston. The long afternoon of yesterday
passed slowly away. This morning passed by,--the time of our stay in
Brattleboro, and we neither saw nor heard anything of our Governor. We
suppose he could not or would not help us. So as we go down to our trial
we have no arm to lean upon among all men; but why dost thou complain,
oh, my Soul? Seek thou that faith that will prove a buckler to thy
breast, and gain for thee the protection of an arm mightier than the
arms of all men.

_28th._ CAMP VERMONT: LONG ISLAND, BOSTON HARBOUR.--In the early morning
damp and cool we marched down off the heights of Brattleboro to take
train for this place. Once in the car the dashing young cavalry officer,
who had us in charge, gave notice he had placed men through the cars,
with loaded revolvers, who had orders to shoot any person attempting to
escape, or jump from the window, and that any one would be shot if he
even put his head out of the window. Down the beautiful valley of the
Connecticut, all through its broad intervales, heavy with its crops of
corn or tobacco, or shaven smooth by the summer harvest; over the hard
and stony counties of northern Massachusetts, through its suburbs and
under the shadow of Bunker Hill Monument we came into the City of
Boston, "the Hub of the Universe." Out through street after street we
were marched double guarded to the wharves, where we took a small
steamer for the island some six miles out in the harbour. A circumstance
connected with this march is worth mentioning for its singularity: at
the head of this company, like convicts (and feeling very much like