ry, and whose
final defeat but added lustre to their grandest victories.

It was not the flag of the Confederacy, but simply the banner, the
battle-flag, of the Confederate soldier. As such it should not share in
the condemnation which our _cause_ received, or suffer from its
downfall. The whole world can unite in a chorus of praise to the
gallantry of the men who followed where this banner led.

It was at the battle of Manassas, about four o'clock of the afternoon of
the 21st of July, 1861, when the fate of the Confederacy seemed
trembling in the balance, that General Beauregard, looking across the
Warrenton turnpike, which passed through the valley between the position
of the Confederates and the elevations beyond occupied by the Federal
line, saw a body of troops moving towards his left and the Federal
right. He was greatly concerned to know, but could not decide, what
troops they were, whether Federal or Confederate. The similarity of
uniform and of the colors carried by the opposing armies, and the clouds
of dust, made it almost impossible to decide.

Shortly before this time General Beauregard had received from the signal
officer, Captain Alexander, a dispatch, saying that from the signal
station in the rear he had sighted the colors of this column, drooping
and covered with the dust of journeyings, but could not tell whether
they were the Stars and Stripes or the Stars and Bars. He thought,
however, that they were probably Patterson's troops arriving on the
field and reenforcing the enemy.

General Beauregard was momentarily expecting help from the right, and
the uncertainty and anxiety of this hour amounted to anguish. Still the
column pressed on. Calling a staff officer, General Beauregard
instructed him to go at once to General Johnston, at the Lewis House,
and say that the enemy were receiving heavy reenforcements, that the
troops on the plateau were very much scattered, and that he would be
compelled to retire to the Lewis House, and there re-form, hoping that
the troops ordered up from the right would arrive in time to enable him
to establish and hold the new line.

[Illustration: HERE ARE THE COLORS!]

Meanwhile, the unknown troops were pressing on. The day was sultry, and
only at long intervals was there the slightest breeze. The colors of the
mysterious column hung drooping on the staff. General Beauregard tried
again and again to decide what colors they carried. He used his glass
repeatedly, and