he
fairly jumped with delight, and cheer after cheer rang out from the
men of his command, and it was not until a whizzing shot from the
remaining guns of the rebels' battery warned him that they were not
yet conquered, that his boys were again put to work, and eventually
quieted their noisy antagonists. At one time, during that fight, the
rebels tried to charge up the hill from "Bottom's farm-house," but
were repulsed. At that time the 10th and 3d Ohio, aided by the 15th
Kentucky Regiment, were holding the eminence; the rebels were
protected by a stone wall that skirted the entire meandering creek,
giving them, at times, the advantage of an enfilading fire; our boys
were partly covered by what was known as "Bottom's barn." Many of our
wounded had crawled into this barn for protection, but a rebel shell
exploding directly among the hay set the barn on fire, and several of
our poor wounded boys perished in the flames.

Colonel Reed, of Delaware, Ohio, was in command at Perryville, some
time after the battle, and it is a disgraceful fact that the rebels
left their dead unburied. At one spot, in a ravine, they had piled up
thirty bodies in one heap, and thrown a lot of cornstalks over them;
and on the Springfield road, to the right, as you entered the town of
Perryville, a regular line of skirmishers lay dead, each one about ten
paces from the other; they had evidently been shot instantly dead, and
had fallen in their tracks; and there they laid for four days. One, a
fine-looking man, with large, black, bushy whiskers, was within a few
yards of the toll-gate keeper's house, (himself and family residing
there,) who, apparently, was too lazy to dig a grave for the reception
of the rebel's body.

As a matter of course, the first duty is to the wounded, but these
people seemed to pay no attention to either dead or wounded. And it
was not until a peremptory order from Colonel Reed was issued, that
the rebel-sympathizing citizens condescended to go out and bury their
Confederate friends; and this was accomplished by digging a deep hole
beside the corpse, and the diggers, taking a couple of fence-rails,
would pry the body over and let it fall to the bottom: thus these
poor, deluded wretches found a receptacle in mother Earth.

Accompanied by Mr. A. Seward, the special correspondent of the
Philadelphia _Inquirer_, the day after the fight I visited an
improvised hospital in the woods in the rear of the battle-ground.
There we f