y
his fine abilities, upon petty, splendid, momentary triumphs. He was
generous to folly, and, I have no doubt, maintained his whole staff.

When I requested to be shown the field, and its relics, Meagher said, in
his musical brogue, that I need only look around.

"From the edge of that wood," he said, "the Irish brigade charged across
this field, and fell upon their faces in the railway cutting below. A
regiment of Alabamians lay in the timber beyond, with other Southerners
in their rear, and on both flanks. They thought that we were charging
bayonets, and reserved their fire till we should approach within
butchering distance. On the contrary, I ordered the boys to lie down,
and load and fire at will. In the end, sir, we cut them to pieces, and
five hundred of them were left along the swamp fence, that you see.
There isn't fifty killed and wounded in the whole Irish brigade."

A young staff officer took me over the field. We visited first the
cottage and barns across the road, and found the house occupied by some
thirty wounded Federals. They lay in their blankets upon the
floors,--pale, helpless, hollow-eyed, making low moans at every breath.
Two or three were feverishly sleeping, and, as the flies revelled upon
their gashes, they stirred uneasily and moved their hands to and fro. By
the flatness of the covering at the extremities, I could see that
several had only stumps of legs. They had lost the sweet enjoyment of
walking afield, and were but fragments of men, to limp forever through a
painful life. Such wrecks of power I never beheld. Broad, brawny,
buoyant, a few hours ago, the loss of blood, and the nervous shock,
attendant upon amputation, has wellnigh drained them to the last drop.
Their faces were as white as the tidy ceiling; they were whining like
babies; and only their rolling eyes distinguished them from mutilated
corpses. Some seemed quite broken in spirit, and one, who could speak,
observing my pitiful glances toward his severed thigh, drew up his mouth
and chin, and wept as if with the loss of comeliness all his ambitions
were frustrated. A few attendants were brushing off the insects with
boughs of cedar, laving the sores, or administering cooling draughts.
The second story of the dwelling was likewise occupied by wounded, but
in a corner clustered the terrified farmer and his family, vainly
attempting to turn their eyes from the horrible spectacle. The farmer's
wife had a baby at her breast, and it