Within an hour after the battle began, Rovohl, the Color-Bearer, was mortally wounded. When he fell his comrades indulged in a fierce dispute as to which of them was entitled to carry the flag. Several claimed it, but Wendell, affirming his seniority of rank as a Corporal, secured it. Two of them proposed to carry Rovohl to the surgeons in the rear, but he refused all help, saying: “My life is nothing-keep the flag to the front.” Corporal Wendell was soon mortally wounded, and Adamson then took the flag. Morgan and Sprouse were instantly killed, and Mathews was severely wounded. Adamson and Bozarth were also wounded. When night came and the roar of battle died away, four of these nine young men were dead, three others were wounded, and only two, Binger and Turner, were unhurt. Binger was, some weeks later, promoted to be a Sergeant, appointed Regimental Color-Bearer, and served in that position until his final muster-out, in January, 1866. He refused promotion offered him, to a Lieutenancy, because he would not part with the colors. I have heard men, during recent years, deride eulogistic references to our country’s flag as sentimental nonsense. If any of you should hear such talk, think of these young heroes, who thought the flag was worth far more than their own lives; who so loved it and reverenced it that they cheerfully died for it; and let their devotion, their sentiment, their sacrifice, be a mute but unanswerable protest against those who deny the existence of such a thing as disinterested patriotism. And when you think of the flag, the brave old flag, the flag that means everything worth having in this country; the flag that is at once the beauty and the glory of our land; the “Old Flag” that is always new, and bright, and gracious, and inspiring; the flag that, floating against the sky, is not only the most beautiful thing a true American will ever see, but the most thrilling and sacred sentiment that warms his heart—when you think of this glorious old flag, “Think of the strong, heroic souls, Who hailed it as their pride. And with their faint and anguished eyes, Lifted in dreadful agonies, Saw it between them and the skies, Blessed it, and, blessing, died.”