C. Cleveland County.  E. Wright to J. Wright.”  On the other side, “A few lines from W. L. Vaughn.” who has just been writing for the wife to her husband, and continues on his own account.  The postscript, “tell John that nancy’s folks are all well and has a verry good Little Crop of corn a growing.”  I wonder, if, by one of those strange chances of which I have seen so many, this number or leaf of the “Atlantic” will not sooner or later find its way to Cleveland County, North Carolina, and E. Wright, widow of James Wright, and Nancy’s folks, get from these sentences the last glimpse of husband and friend as he threw up his arms and fell in the bloody cornfield of Antietam?  I will keep this stained letter for them until peace comes back, if it comes in my time, and my pleasant North Carolina Rebel of the Middletown Hospital will, perhaps look these poor people up, and tell them where to send for it.

On the battle-field I parted with my two companions, the Chaplain and the Philanthropist.  They were going to the front, the one to find his regiment, the other to look for those who needed his assistance.  We exchanged cards and farewells, I mounted the wagon, the horses’ heads were turned homewards, my two companions went their way, and I saw them no more.  On my way back, I fell into talk with James Grayden.  Born in England, Lancashire; in this country since he was four years old.  Had nothing to care for but an old mother; didn’t know what he should do if he lost her.  Though so long in this country, he had all the simplicity and childlike lightheartedness which belong to the Old World’s people.  He laughed at the smallest pleasantry, and showed his great white English teeth; he took a joke without retorting by an impertinence; he had a very limited curiosity about all that was going on; he had small store of information; he lived chiefly in his horses, it seemed to me.  His quiet animal nature acted as a pleasing anodyne to my recurring fits of anxiety, and I liked his frequent “’Deed I don’t know, sir.” better than I have sometimes relished the large discourse of professors and other very wise men.

I have not much to say of the road which we were travelling for the second time.  Reaching Middletown, my first call was on the wounded Colonel and his lady.  She gave me a most touching account of all the suffering he had gone through with his shattered limb before he succeeded in finding a shelter; showing the terrible want of proper means of transportation of the wounded after the battle.  It occurred to me, while at this house, that I was more or less famished, and for the first time in my life I begged for a meal, which the kind family with whom the Colonel was staying most graciously furnished me.