night long I staggered amongst bleeding corpses, over dead horses, trampled limbs, shattered artillery — every thing that goes to make up the horrors of a battle-field when the conflict is over. They were removing the wounded all night. Oh I think how awful to stumble over the dead and hear the cries of the wounded and dying, alone, and in the night-time. I had to start off alone, else they would not have let me go. As you may suppose, I could not find him, either amongst the living or the dead. But the next morning, just after sunrise, I came to a little clump of timbers where a horse had fallen — his head shot off and his body half covering a man whom I supposed dead. His face was to the ground, but as I stooped to look closer, I perceived a faint movement of the body, then heard a faint moan. I stooped and turned the face upward. The head and face were both covered with blood, but when I turned it to the light I knew it in spite of its disfiguration. O God! the agony of that moment sickened me almost to suffocation. With a strength I thought impossible in me, I drew him crushed and bleeding from beneath the carcase of our poor old horse, whom we had both so loved and petted, and dipping my handkerchief in a little pool of water amongst the bushes, bathed his face, and pressed some moisture between his parched, swollen lips. He was utterly senseless, and there was a dreadful wound in his head. Both limbs were crushed hopelessly beneath his horse. He was utterly beyond the reach of human skill to save, but as soon as possible I had him conveyed to the hospital. I have nursed him ever since — hopelessly, and with a heart breaking with grief. Oh! how many wives, how many mothers are to-day mourning the dead and dying, even as I mourn my dying! He has not opened his eyes to look at or spoken to me since he fell. Oh! could he but speak to me once before he dies, I should give him up with more resignation. But to die thus-without a look or word I Oh! my heart is breaking!
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