recovery. About sundown the largest drove of wild turkeys I ever saw flew by and alighted on the pines overhead. I sprang to my feet and tried my best to shoot one, but failed. The exercise restored my circulation, and I again plodded on to camp, which I reached about 9 o'clock, and, under cover of a good fire, I slept the sleep of the just. My comrade, for getting into camp late, was put back in the ranks, and I still had my load to carry or give it up. Wearily I went on, and about three miles from winter quarters our regimental surgeon, in his ambulance, overtook me. I never saw a more surprised man in my life, and his exclamation, "What in the world have you got there, Frank?" rang out with a laugh. I told him all about it, and he kindly let me put the turnips in his ambulance and delivered them to my messmates in camp, and for a long time we feasted on roasted turnips.

I cite this to show the endurance of a boy soldier, half-starved, barefooted and sick, yet swinging like grim death to a load ample for a horse. I have seen men frequently eat one day's rations at once, saying "one good bite is better than two or three pinched

Our shoes, especially those made by the Confederate department, were pitiable specimens indeed. Generally made of green or at best half-cured leather, they soon took to roaming; after a week's wear the heel would be on the side, at an angle to the foot, and the vamp, in turn, would try to do duty as a sole. It was impossible to keep them straight, and to judge by your tracks you could hardly tell whether you were going or coming. They conformed to the weather also. While hot and dry they would shrink like parchment, and when wet they just "slopped" all over your feet. English-made shoes were nearly as bad. They were lined and filled with stiff paper, and after fording a few times they usually came to pieces. I have seen men while in winter quarters take a piece of beef hide, soak it well and then fit it over their shoes, hair part inside. These they allowed to dry on the feet, so as to retain the shape of the foot, and also to prevent contracting too much. When well made, they answered the purpose very well, and when the march came in the spring of the year they would cut them off and they would have a well-broke new shoe to trudge the pike with. Socks were patched at heels and toes to save wear, as were our trousers. It was a common sight to see all sorts of re-enforcements to the men's seats. On a pair of brown or butternut-colored trousers you would see a huge heart, square or star-shaped patch, according to the whim of the

owner. Our hats and caps were taken from "our friends, the enemy," and you could see all styles, shapes and makes, generally ornamented with letters denoting the command of the owner. The "alpine hat" or Excelsior," of New York, was the most common, and were preferred to all others. Caps were not sought after, as they neither turned sun nor rain. Slouch hats are peculiar to the South, and were affected a great deal. We also had palmetto, pine straw and quilted cloth hats. At Petersburg our captain went up to Richmond and purchased some thirty-odd hats for his company, paying for the same ninety dollars each. "Oh, what a swell we did cut." They were a drab color, and took well as long as the weather was fine.

The first rain took out all pretension of style, and in place of a neat, nobby-looking hat, we were the possessors of a limp mass of rabbit fur and glue. When the sun shone out the hats, in spite of all contrary efforts, dried to suit themselves, and cracked when again pressed into shape, and before long drooped again and fell to pieces as we trudged the ways of the march. Our buttons were made of wood, and soon parted company with our wretched garments. In camp we boiled our underwear in the mess kettle. A good boiling of our clothes twice a month got rid of the vermin, but enough was always left for spring seed, for you could not get all the men to clean up at the same time. On the long march, not having time to boil, and our body servants having unlimited rations, increased rapidly. To find some comfort we would, where an opportunity offered, strip off and hunt them with fire. The usual and most effective way was to heat the end of a stick into coal, and with this run it up and down the several seams of your garments until all were destroyed.

A favorite yarn of the times runs thus: "A soldier was seated by the wayside, shirt off, busily hunting the vermin. A farmer passing by stopped and watched the operation for awhile, and then exclaimed: 'Mister! be those fleas you are killing?' With wrathful mien, the soldier responded: Say, you look here, do you think I am a dog? No, sir; these be lice.'" These clothes being always of heavy and coarse material, always dried rough. To obviate the disagreeable feeling and to prevent chafing, we rubbed them around smoothbarked saplings. On the winter marches we fared wretchedly, for our clothing was not "overly warm," nor was it material that would turn water readily. When we got into camp we were soon comfortable before huge fires. When we “retired” it was on the side of the fire over which the smoke curled, as affording us more warmth.

On the march once near Culpeper Courthouse, we tried a plan sug gested by General Longstreet and never repeated it again. We built a large fire and allowed it to burn down. We then raked it off clean, spread some pine straw, on this a blanket, and, wrapped in another blanket, we slept like a top; in fact, too warm. We sweltered, and next day had violent influenza, and suffered acutely. In the absence of pocket handkerchiefs we had to slip our nose on our rough coat sleeves, which soon produced an inflamed organ, rivaling John Barleycorn in that respect.

Our clothes, mostly cotton, were coarse and heavy, and of every hue and cut-not a full uniform of one material except those of the staff. The prevailing color was what is familiarly known as "butternut," a dry dye made from copperas. Its commonness gave rise

to the nickname of "butternuts" to the Confederate soldiers. Our shelters, when in winter quarters, were varied, distinct and original. We had the "dug out," the thatched arbor-shaped dog kennel, a log pen opened at one end, chimney at the other, and covered with tent flys, or riven boards, and these frequently heaped with earth. The double cabin or hut was the one most preferred, and was large enough to shelter six or eight men. This was built with a brick and mud chimney at each end. When properly chinked and daubed, and well covered, it was very comfortable. As the fireplace was ample we put on huge back logs and defied the worst of weather. Very little bedding sufficed in these huts. Many of the soldiers would, on the summer's march, throw away their blankets and superfluous clothing, trusting to luck to provide others ere winter set in. Often failing in this they had to resort to such as they could get-bed quilts or pieces of carpet, which, as soon as they became wet through, trebled in size and weight, and were finally thrown away as too cumbersome even for the frail comfort they afforded.

The latter part of the war in Virginia, and, I suppose, everywhere else, was often characterized with wretched battle scenes. I have seen hundreds of dead Federals, and many Confederates, too, stripped of every vestige of clothing. Even the wounded were robbed of their outer clothing sometimes. No matter if the underwear was soaked with life-blood, reeking with vermin and the filth of a long campaign, it was readily taken and used, because needed, and beat none badly. This robbery of the gallant dead was not done as a desecration, but on the ground of personal suffering and need of the living, and the plea was advanced that the garment was of no further service to the dead. It seems barbarous and terrible

that the brave who fell in defense of their cause should thus be maltreated, but it is claimed that the exigencies of the times palliated it to some extent, even if it did not justify it altogether. Even the Confederate dead, clad in his wretched raiment, fared but little better if friends were not near to prevent it. It is easily seen by whom these ghastly trophies were sought and obtained. Such ghouls belong to all armies, and are the dread of the wounded. The character of the Southern soldier, those to the manner born, in every detail of the war, was above reproach. They never robbed the living nor stripped the dead. They endured personal suffering and misery in preference to the use of such vile means of obtaining comfort. Brave, gallant and chivalrous; generous at all times, either in victory or defeat, the instinct of their breeding showed forth in most conspicuous forms.

History records that in all countries and communities, and nowhere oftener shown up than in armies, is an element—a disturbing one— who bring upon their associates odium and reproach by overt acts, which condemn all as a whole. For these we can offer no excuse. As they were for us and with us, we must be content to abide the sequence of circumstances beyond our control. We shared their glory, for many of them were brave as the bravest, as far as that goes, and can but disclaim personal participation only.

In conclusion, such was the way the Southern soldier lived and fared; how with rifles and bayonets bright as sunbeams he fought the world knows how, and when the starry-cross battle flag was furled in defeat by starvation and privation, he returned to a ruined home and sought to build anew his fortunes, and again suffered the hardships incidental thereto with the same enduring patience and fortitude he displayed as a soldier, and to-day his proudest boast is: "I was a Confederate soldier and fought with Lee, Johnston and Bragg. I have nothing to be ashamed of while in the ranks, and now, under the flag under which I was born, I allow none to surpass me in loyalty and allegiance to a reunited country. Our bonnie blue flag is furled in defeat-a defeat that reflects honor. I cherish its glories and traditions, and have no animosity to its rival, the Stars and Stripes. Its memories are the proudest heritage I shall bequeath my children."

Port Gibson, Miss.

HUNTER HOLMES MCGUIRE, M. D., LL. D.

Unveiling a Statue of in the Capitol Square, Richmond, Va., January 7, 1904.

WITH THE ADDRESSES DELIVERED ON THE OCCASION.

The monument of the distinguished surgeon and beloved physician, Dr. Hunter McGuire, a seated figure in bronze, on granite plinth, the cost of which was subscribed by his friends and admirers, and which stands near the entrance at 11th and Capital streets, and east of and near that of his redoubtable chieftain, "Stonewall" Jackson, was unveiled in the midst of an immense throng on Thursday, January 7, 1904, with impressive ceremonies.

The following is the inscription:

ΤΟ

HUNTER HOLMES MCGUIRE, M. D., LL. D.,

PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAN MEDICAL

AND OF THE

AMERICAN SURGICAL ASSOCIATIONS;

FOUNDER OF THE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE OF

MEDICINE;

MEDICAL DIRECTOR, JACKSON'S CORPS
ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA;

AN EMINENT CIVIL AND MILITARY SURGEON
AND BELOVED PHYSICIAN.

AN ABLE TEACHER AND VIGOROUS WRITER;
A USEFUL CITIZEN AND BROAD

HUMANITARIAN;

GIFTED IN MIND AND GENEROUS IN HEART,
THIS MONUMENT IS ERECTED BY HIS MANY

FRIENDS.

OPENING EXERCISES.

The invited guests and the officers of the Association, having assembled on the platform erected for their accommodation, the assembly was called to order by the Hon. George L. Christian,