"My good lady, I have not long to live; but my greatest pain is not of my wounds, it is here," placing his hand upon his heart. "Under the tree that stands at my feet a little mound covers my father, and my shot took his life! We lived in Tennessee; he was pressed into one army, and I joined the other. Oh! I feared this would be so. My poor father, how I loved him!" and great sobs choked his voice. "Will you see me buried in the same grave with him, and write to my good mother, explaining all to her?"

I pressed his hand in assent, for I could not speak. "Tell her that my father did not know his murderer, and that God has now forgiven me," were his last words. I remained with him, reminding him of the pardoning grace of Christ until his spirit departed.

When I returned to where the mail reached us, that doubly-bereaved mother wrote me a letter that would have drawn tears from the veriest stoic. It now lies before me, with scores of others of a similar kind; and these are the war reminiscences that will never grow dim with age.

But the night closed in upon the heartrending scene, and with the details and hospital embassies we continued our mission among the wounded and dying, until far into the night, when we returned to the boat. On reaching there we found the boat literally crammed, and groaning beneath the weight of sufferers carried hence for transportation. The heavy moans of the poor boys, who lay packed and

tiered in, was such as to prevent all possibility of repose, even had nature demanded it; and, like all who were able, I spent the night in earnest, allabsorbing labors for the wounded and the dying. At early morn the boat put out for Paducah to convey to the Central Hospital of that place, the worst cases, fresh from the field, for treatment.

Having the good fortune to reach the field of Donelson before any lady was granted permission to approach, I appreciated the privilege by remaining as long as profitable to myself and others. But the "General" must be sought, and disobedience to orders explained away. On reaching the General's headquarters, at the foot of a little hill, just beyond Dover (a cluster of houses near Donelson), his surprise was followed by the exclamation, "Why, madam, how is this? I thought ladies were prohibited entering thus far into the dangers of war."

"Very true, General, and when they forbade me going, and refused to give me a pass, I told them Grant was my General, I would go to him for a pass. I knew I could find you no place else, so I came to the field to get your permission to attend to some of the wounded." The General smiled and looked surprised. I need scarcely say that full permission was granted, and every facility afforded to the Chaplain and myself to continue our labors, which we did for several days, the introductory one being a type of the

rest.

Procuring horses one evening, we started for a full and close survey of the grounds, which covered many

⚫ miles of forest, hill and valley. Ascending the hill above Dover, we had a most picturesque view of the river, dotted with gun-boats, seemingly unconscious of the victory they had secured, while the transports plied industriously, carrying the disabled from the fatal field. From General Grant's headquarters the good old flag floated leisurely in the breeze; no music was heard through the grounds, and the surroundings wore a melancholy aspect, calm and peaceful as a noon-day dream. As we reached the seat of noble Wallace and Ransom, we dismounted, and, in company with Miss Hadley, of Chicago, and the Chaplain, walked up before these good commanders, whose surprise was indeed great. Ransom "was sure we came from the last white cloud that passed over," and after many expressions of joy, he showed us the ball that had struck him in the shoulder, almost in the spot where he had twice been wounded before. Having the first ball extracted by my husband, I begged for what I hoped to be the last; but, like all soldiers, he would not part with the little enemy that aimed at his life.

Poor Wallace, who had so bravely saved the day with his Division, shed tears of emotion when he rehearsed the great mortality and suffering of his men. I could appreciate then, more fully than ever, why he was almost worshiped by those he commanded. After visiting the tents of several other acquaintances, all of whom expressed equal surprise, we quenched' our thirst at a moss-covered well, with a gourd for a glass, and hastened on.

The carnage of war had left its fearful impress upon

every surrounding object, and gave the appearance of extreme desolation. Trees were rent, and mangled limb from limb, or torn up by the roots as by the fearful touch of lightning. Houses had been undermined, and the earth plowed as though an earthquake had there coursed its way. Dead horses, scattered artillery, and broken munitions lay in promiscuous heaps. The dead, thought to have been all decently buried, were here and there still concealed beneath hiding places, where in death-pains they had unconsciously crept from the enemy's bayoneting; and the air was filled and blackened by dark birds that croaked their sad dirge in search of prey. And, not strange to say, trophy-gatherers were scouring every inch of that evermemorable ground. A sprig of wild-flower at the feet of my horse struck me as being so "nouvelle" to the season and the scene, that in response to my exclamation of joy, my escort dismounted and secured it as my trophy.

After viewing the long chain of fortifications, the impregnable breast works of the enemy, placed upon a natural eminence, strengthening in every way the vantage-ground they had, we could not but utter an earnest prayer for the brave rank and file; and for the "Incomparable Leader" that God had sent, to teach them the art of victory. Long and with deep emotion we gazed upon the scene. It is said that Campbell, who wrote "Hohenlinden," had never witnessed a battle; but I am sure he must have visited a battlefield, and from it could draw sufficient inspiration!

On returning slowly to the boat, we stopped at

several tents, and again, and for the last time on that ground, talked with the victorious boys. All seemed cheerful and willing to accept any thing for the sake victory. Some were reading their little Testament, others singing hymns of praise, and only in one instance did we observe cards. Approaching the group of three thus amused, I offered some tracts, with the remark: "Here, my good fellows, I do not understand your cards, but mine are so very simple you can not fail to learn them at once;" and with a word of praise for their victory, we passed on. Before we had gone many steps the soldier who took them came up, and, extending his hand, (while tears rushed to his eyes) said, "Madam, I must thank you for that; no words save those of my mother have ever impressed me thus, and I believe that God spared me from the common grave in which hundreds lie on the hill to hear these words. I want to talk with you." I re-assured him of the virtue of "my cards," and bade him learn them till we met again. The tents were filled with those whose love for the field, and horror for the word hospital, kept them silently and heroically bearing their wounds and begging to be thought well-enough for the next battle. But night closed in and soon wrapt earth, and sky, and water in one impenetrable gloom.

We were just in time to take the next boat for Paducah. Governor Matteson came on board with a trophy that he held up in amazement; a rifle completely perforated with shot, and as artistically done