Generous conduct of the enemy.
The enemy treated me with great consideration and kindness, I was the ranking living officer of the brigade they had to deal with. General Anderson (I think that was the officer's name) who commanded the Pennsylvania reserves, whom we fought, had me carried on a stretcher to his headquarters, administered whiskey to me with his own hands as I was cold and chilly—offered me something to eat—gave directions that I was to have special medical attention and said that ‘I and every man I had, should be well treated—that he had never seen men come up at a ‘right—shoulder shift arms’ and meet death like mine did before.’ He asked me specially about the ‘red-cap’ ‘color bearer,’ whose taking off he saw.The next morning I was taken to a field hospital in the beautiful [62] yard of Dr. Brockenbrough, the brother of my old friend, Judge John W. Brockenbrough, and his tiny little girl bravely came into the enemy's tent with the maimed and dying and fed with a spoon her fallen defender. (God bless her!) All of their ambulances being engaged hauling their own wounded to the ‘White House’ for shipment North, they fitted up a spring wagon drawn by four horses, by filling the body with pine tags, specially for me alone, and detailed one of my own men, slightly wounded, to wait on me. On my arrival at the wharf, while waiting, my three officers—Captain Stratton, Lieutenant Reid, and Lieutenant Anderson (under guard) found me in wagon. I made one of the ‘Sanitary Commission,’ constantly passing dispensing every known delicacy to eat and to drink, to their wounded, give them a drink of French brandy, and the driver fill their haversacks from the barrell of provisions in the wagon. I never saw but one of them again.
