d be overcome by the number of the enemy,
this gallant trio wheeled and retreated through the bridge. As they
were retreating, they heard the enemy exclaim, 'Shoot the d--d rascal
on the white horse!' meaning McClintic, who had shot Colonel Kelley.
They fired, and broke the leg of Leroy P. Dangerfield. As McClintic
was able to unhorse the colonel of a regiment with an old pistol, we
hope that no soldier will disdain to use the old-fashioned pistol.
They are as good as any, if in the proper hands."

From the same paper I cut the following:

"We have been informed that the gallant men who were under the command
of Captain J. B. Moomau, in the precipitate retreat from Philippa,
positively refused, after going a mile or two, to retreat any further.
They were told that, if they would not retreat any further, they had
better send a flag of truce to the enemy and surrender. It was
proposed to decide the matter by a vote, when the men _unanimously_
voted that they would _rather die than surrender_. The word
'surrender' does not belong to the vocabulary of the brave men of our
mountains. They are as heroic as Spartans. They are willing to _die_,
if needs be; but surrender, _never!_ Though the enemy were constantly
firing Minie muskets at them, they were not at all alarmed, and, being
true republicans, they were resolved to take the vote of the men
before they would agree to send a flag of truce, or think for a moment
of surrendering. Who ever heard of a vote being taken under such
circumstances? They were flying before the superior and overwhelming
force of the enemy, yet they were sufficiently calm and self-composed
to get through with the republican formality of taking the vote of the
company. The men then under the command of Captain Moomau, of
Pendleton, were his own company and some fifty belonging to the
company of Captain Hull, of Highland, who had become separated from
the other portion of their own company. Such soldiers will never be
conquered--they may be killed, but they will never surrender."

A few days afterward these "never-surrender" Spartan chaps were
brought into camp, the most hang-dog looking set of villains I ever
met.

CHAPTER IX.

Our Hospitals -- No Hope -- A Short and Simple Story -- A
Soldier's Pride -- The Last Letter -- Soldierly Sympathy --
The Hospitals at Gallatin, and their Ministering Angels.

OUR HOSPITALS.

I have visited many of the hospitals, both on the field