192 Southern Historical Society Papers.
so I went on the hunt for General Cheatham. By and by relief was sent to the front. This done, nature gave way. My shoulder was black with bruises from firing, and it seemed that no moisture was left in my system. Utterly exhausted, I sank upon the ground and tried to sleep. The battle was over, and I could do no more; but animated still with concern for the fate of comrades, I returned to the awful spectacle in search of some who, year after year, had been at my side. Ah, the loyalty of faithful comrades in such a struggle! These personal recollections are all that I can give, as the greater part of the battle was fought after nightfall, and once in the midst of it, with but the light of the flashing guns, I could see only what passed directly under my own eyes. True, the moon was shining, but the dense smoke and dust so filled the air as to weaken its bene- fits, like a heavy fog before the rising sun, only there was no promise of the fog disappearing. Our spirits were crushed. It was indeed the Valley of Death.
[From the Richmond Dispatch, July 19, 1896.]
THE BURIAL OF LATANE.
A Touching Incident of the Civil War Recalled.
During the Confederate reunion recently held in Richmond many good stories were told, many anecdotes related, many gallant deeds recalled of the valor and gallantry of some favorite son, and many tributes of love and respect paid to the noble women of the South, past and present. In view of this last, it might not be inappropriate at this time to recall an incident of the struggle between the North and South that is in a measure familiar to all of those that still cherish the tenderest memories of the dead Confederacy; but the true facts of which are known to a comparative few. If the Con- federate veterans, when discussing the thrilling events of the early 60' s, had gone out to Hanover Courthouse, a few miles from Rich- mond, and then journeyed to "Summer Hill," the estate of Mrs. Mary Page Newton, widow of Captain William B. Newton, Confede- rate States army, they would have found in the family bury ing- ground a grass-covered grave, but with no monument to the honor of the sleeping soldier beneath, no epitaph to his virtues, or to tell how and when he died. There among the whispering pines lies the remains of William Latane, captain of the Essex Troop, gth Regi- ment, Stuart's Brigade. "The Burial of Latane" has been made
