a presentation of captured flags to the Secretary. Among others a
soldier named Gant, of the 104th Ohio volunteers, presented a rebel
battle-flag, which one of the officers stated to me was borne to the
mouth of our cannon and planted there by a boy but seventeen years
of age, who actually endeavor'd to stop the muzzle of the gun with
fence-rails. He was kill'd in the effort, and the flag-staff was
sever'd by a shot from one of our men.


THE WOUNDED FROM CHANCELLORSVILLE

_May '63_.--As I write this, the wounded have begun to arrive from
Hooker's command from bloody Chancellorsville. I was down among the
first arrivals. The men in charge told me the bad cases were yet to
come. If that is so I pity them, for these are bad enough. You ought
to see the scene of the wounded arriving at the landing here at the
foot of Sixth street, at night. Two boat loads came about half-past
seven last night. A little after eight it rain'd a long and violent
shower. The pale, helpless soldiers had been debark'd, and lay around
on the wharf and neighborhood anywhere. The rain was, probably,
grateful to them; at any rate they were exposed to it. The few torches
light up the spectacle. All around--on the wharf, on the ground, out
on side places--the men are lying on blankets, old quilts, &c., with
bloody rags bound round heads, arms, and legs. The attendants are few,
and at night few outsiders also--only a few hard-work'd transportation
men and drivers. (The wounded are getting to be common, and people
grow callous.) The men, whatever their condition, lie there, and
patiently wait till their turn comes to be taken up. Near by, the
ambulances are now arriving in clusters, and one after another is
call'd to back up and take its load. Extreme cases are sent off on