through the South. How often have I seen our brave fellows, after some great battle, wearied out as they were, searching the field for the wounded of the enemy, bearing them on litters to our field hospitals to be treated by our surgeons under General Lee's standing orders that "the whole field must be treated alike, and the wounded of the enemy cared for as well as our own men."
Gen. J. B. Kershaw, of South Carolina, published some years ago a deeply interesting narrative concerning "Richard Kirkland, the humane hero of Fredericksburg," a sergeant in the Second South Carolina regiment. After the bloody repulse of the Federals at Fredericksburg, near the foot of Marye's hill, they left their many killed and wounded lying between the lines, and the piteous cries of the brave men on account of pain and thirst appealed to the sympathies of the soldiers of both armies. Kirkland went to General Kershaw, who was then in command of the Confederates at that point, and said with deep emotion: "General, I can't stand this." "What is the matter, Sergeant? " asked the general. He replied: "All day I have heard those poor people crying for water and I can stand it no longer. I come to ask permission to go and give them water." The general regarded him for a moment with feelings of profound admiration, and said: "Kirkland, don't you know that you would get a bullet through your head the moment you stepped over the wall?" "Yes," he said, "I know that I may, but if you will let me, I am willing to try it." After a pause the general said: "Kirkland, I ought not to allow you to run such a risk, but the sentiment which actuates you is so noble that I will not refuse your request, trusting that God may protect you. You may go." With light heart and buoyant step the humane hero, armed with all of the canteens he could carry filled with water, crossed the wall, went unharmed through the shower of bullets which at first greeted him, and
