put together again, he
would have considered it a special dispensation.

The amputations were reserved till the morrow, and the merciful magic
of ether was not thought necessary that day, so the poor souls had to
bear their pains as best they might. It is all very well to talk of the
patience of woman; and far be it from me to pluck that feather from her
cap, for, heaven knows, she isn't allowed to wear many; but the patient
endurance of these men, under trials of the flesh, was truly wonderful.
Their fortitude seemed contagious, and scarcely a cry escaped them,
though I often longed to groan for them, when pride kept their white
lips shut, while great drops stood upon their foreheads, and the bed
shook with the irrepressible tremor of their tortured bodies. One or
two Irishmen anathematized the doctors with the frankness of their
nation, and ordered the Virgin to stand by them, as if she had been the
wedded Biddy to whom they could administer the poker, if she didn't;
but, as a general thing, the work went on in silence, broken only by
some quiet request for roller, instruments, or plaster, a sigh from the
patient, or a sympathizing murmur from the nurse.

It was long past noon before these repairs were even partially made;
and, having got the bodies of my boys into something like order, the
next task was to minister to their minds, by writing letters to the
anxious souls at home; answering questions, reading papers, taking
possession of money and valuables; for the eighth commandment was
reduced to a very fragmentary condition, both by the blacks and whites,
who ornamented our hospital with their presence. Pocket books, purses,
miniatures, and watches, were sealed up, labelled, and handed over to
the matron, till such times as the owners thereof were ready to depart
homeward or campward again. The letters dictated to me, and revised by
me, that afternoon, would have made an excellent chapter for some
future history of the war; for, like that which Thackeray's "Ensign
Spooney" wrote his mother just before Waterloo, they were "full of
affection, pluck, and bad spelling;" nearly all giving lively accounts
of the battle, and ending with a somewhat sudden plunge from patriotism
to provender, desiring "Marm," "Mary Ann," or "Aunt Peters," to send
along some pies, pickles, sweet stuff, and apples, "to yourn in haste,"
Joe, Sam, or Ned, as the case might be.

My little Sergeant insisted on trying to scribble something with