er way--if
he has it, the conclusion is at once that he is a great man and full of
wisdom. These things are unfortunate in a government like ours. But
this is the tendency, and has been for many years. Dash and swell is the
motto now; it is growing more in that direction every day. But I have
wandered away from my subject. The battlefield of Pageland and its
surroundings was a sight to behold the day after our defeat. The private
soldiers felt outraged and officers were discouraged, and many good
people despaired of our final success. Even the President was more
despondent than he had ever been, but still had faith in God and our
cause. The losses on both sides were very great. The country all around
was by both sides turned into a great hospital. The army was almost
disorganized; it certainly was most thoroughly demoralized. Gen. Pike
was relieved, and McGregor put in command again. Fitzgibbon was sent to
the rear without a command. Farlin was everywhere by every friend of his
country severely censured. Fitzgibbon was denounced as a traitor to his
superior officer.

"The mournful part to myself and family had only in part come upon us.
Dr. James Lyon, having cut one of his hands in making an amputation,
feared bad results from the wound; for that reason he procured a leave
of absence, and accompanied the remains of his brother David home. I
will not attempt to describe to you the depth of grief in our family,
from the oldest to the youngest. It was greater than I now wish to
recall, even though so many years have passed since that melancholy
scene. Suffice it to say that Gen. David Lyon fills the grave of as
gallant and noble a soldier as ever drew a sword. He rests beside his
wife and little daughter Sarah in the cemetery at Allentown."

"The old man, overcome by this recital, could not speak for some time,
but finally continued:

"Gen. Anderson was very sad. Dr. James was very restless with his hand,
which had commenced swelling and was becoming extremely painful. My
wife Sarah and Jennie (David's widow) were stricken down with fever,
requiring the constant attendance of Mary Anderson and Aunt Martha
for many days before their recovery was assured. In the meantime Peter
arrived, the wound in his foot having broken out again. When he came to
his mother's bedside she said:

"'O! Peter, my son, that horrible dream haunts me still.'

"This dream from the first had a very depressing effect upon Peter,
though he pret