The dead on the field.
The different postures of the dead always strike a spectator as he passes over the battle-field.
One lay on his back, with his arms stretched upward at length; another, with his head plunged into a pool of mud and water, having evidently died slaking his thirst; a third lay partly on the bank and partly in the water of a creek, having been shot in crossing, and died clutching the twigs and bushes on the opposite bank.
One, shot through the head, had made himself a bed of leaves, and laid down, drawing his blanket and overcoat about him. His uniform and face betokened an officer of some rank.
All of the above were of the Yankee
During Tuesday night, those engaged in carrying the confederate wounded off the field could not use their lanterns, as every flicker from them was sure to draw the fire of the Yankees
. . . . .
Nothing was to be found on this portion of the field but killed and wounded Yankees and their guns and knapsacks.
A mute, and to Virginians
a most interesting story, was told by these knapsacks.
Upwards of three hundred of them belonged to the famous New-York Seventh regiment who were once so feasted and fondled in this city.
If a remnant of them return to the Empire City, they may say with truth that on Virginia soil they were appropriately welcomed on the occasion of both their visits as friends and foes
. [The Seventh regiment alluded to was not on the field.--Ed.]