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     �Adams� house� on the Night of the
named Adams, a civil Virginian of middle
age, with long dark hair and a shaven mouth
and chin; his family had taken refuge in the
upper part of the house, the ascent to which,
(with its suggestion of beds and fires) looked
tempting.       The man got me a cup of coffee,
cold, milkless and unsweetened, which was,
nevertheless very welcome.  While drinking it
I saw some of the family, young women, not
ill looking, with scared, half-defiant faces.  Going
below, found a fire blazing, of which I had
the distant benefit; it being surrounded by a
crowd of generals, majors and captains, pro-
minent among whom, in an arm chair, sat old
Sumner.         Presently an invitation reached him
from the adjoining room, to partake of hot whiskey
and water with Gen. Mc Clellan � in whose
room, by the way, were a couple of Herald
reporters, cooking up a fulsome account of
the days battle, full of lies and adulation to
the �young Napoleon.�  Very soon I lay down
on the hard floor, in the most unassuming corner
I could find, and with my drenched coat
over me, and my valise for a pillow, lay
watching the scene.  The fire was kept up, the
negroes spread blankets for the officers, some
of whom reclined in chairs.        Three or four
times I was addressed, with the inquiry whether