In rear of this the surgeons had stretched their great hospital tents, over which the yellow flag floated.  The surgeons and assistant surgeons never get their meed of praise in summing up the “news of the battle.”  The latter follow close upon the line of battle and give such temporary relief to the bleeding soldiers as will enable them to reach the field hospital.  The yellow flag does not always protect the surgeons and their assistants, as shells scream and burst overhead as the tide of battle rolls backward and forward.  Not a moment of rest or sleep do these faithful servants of the army get until every wound is dressed and the hundred of arms and legs amputated, with that skill and caution for which the army surgeons are so proverbially noted.  With the same dispatch are those, who are able to be moved, bundled off to some city hospital in the rear.

In a large fly-tent, near the roadside, lay dying the Northern millionaire, General Wadsworth.  The Confederates had been as careful of his wants and respectful to his station as if he had been one of their own Generals.  I went in to look at the General who could command more ready gold than the Confederate States had in its treasury.  His hat had been placed over his face, and as I raised it, his heavy breathing, his eyes closed, his cold, clammy face showed that the end was near.  There lay dying the multi-millionaire in an enemy’s country, not a friend near to hear his last farewell or soothe his last moments by a friendly touch on the pallid brow.  Still he, like all soldiers on either side, died for what he thought was right.

“He fails not, who stakes his all, Upon the right, and dares to fall; What, though the living bless or blame For him, the long success of fame.”

Hospital trains had been run up to the nearest railroad station in the rear, bringing those ministering angels of mercy the “Citizens’ Relief Corps,” composed of the best matrons and maidens of Richmond, led by the old men of the city.  They brought crutches by the hundreds and bandages by the bolt.  Every delicacy that the, South afforded these noble dames of Virginia had at the disposal of the wounded soldiers.  How many thousands of Confederate soldiers have cause to bless these noble women of Virginia.  They were the spartan mothers and sisters of the South.

* * * * *

COLONEL JAMES D. NANCE.

I do not think I would be accused of being partial in saying that Colonel Nance was the best all round soldier in Kershaw’s Brigade, none excepted.  I have no allusion to the man, but the soldier alone.  Neither do I refer to qualities of courage, for all were brave, but to efficiency.  First to recommend him was his military education and training.  He was a thorough tactician and disciplinarian, and was only equaled in this respect by General Connor.  In battle he was ever cool and collected—­he