FIFTY HOURS LEFT WOUNDED ON THE FIELD

Here is a case of a soldier I found among the crowded cots in the
Patent-office. He likes to have some one to talk to, and we will
listen to him. He got badly hit in his leg and side at Fredericksburgh
that eventful Saturday, 13th of December. He lay the succeeding two
days and nights helpless on the field, between the city and those grim
terraces of batteries; his company and regiment had been compell'd to
leave him to his fate. To make matters worse, it happen'd he lay with
his head slightly down hill, and could not help himself. At the end of
some fifty hours he was brought off, with other wounded, under a flag
of truce. I ask him how the rebels treated him as he lay during
those two days and nights within reach of them--whether they came to
him--whether they abused him? He answers that several of the rebels,
soldiers and others, came to him at one time and another. A couple of
them, who were together, spoke roughly and sarcastically, but nothing
worse. One middle-aged man, however, who seem'd to be moving around
the field, among the dead and wounded, for benevolent purposes, came
to him in a way he will never forget; treated our soldier kindly,
bound up his wounds, cheer'd him, gave him a couple of biscuits and a
drink of whiskey and water; asked him if he could eat some beef. This
good secesh, however, did not change our soldier's position, for it
might have caused the blood to burst from the wounds, clotted and
stagnated. Our soldier is from Pennsylvania; has had a pretty severe
time; the wounds proved to be bad ones. But he retains a good heart,
and is at present on the gain. (It is not uncommon for the men to
remain on the field this way, one, two, or even four or five days.)