It was a matter of remark to the Union officers who saw the advance of the Confederate forces on that day--the most formidable advance, perhaps, that they have made during any battle of the war,--that there were no flashing and showy uniforms, and that but few flags were seen. The same remark had before been made during other conflicts of the Peninsular campaign, and the contrast thus presented to the gaudy and careless dressing of many of the Union troops, seemed one to reflect credit on the Confederate prudence at the expense of that quality on which they had so prided themselves--their _chivalry_. Except as the sun shone on the sloping musket-barrels and bristling bayonets, there were few brilliant objects in all that formidable array, on which the sharp-shooters of the Federal army could readily fix as targets. Few bright buttons flashed on uniforms, even of officers, and shoulder-straps were so uncommon as to make it difficult to distinguish an officer (even a field or staff officer, if not on horseback) from a private. Our own forces, throughout the war, have probably been needlessly reckless in this regard; and there is no doubt that the brilliant uniforms, particularly of the various Zouave corps, have often made them more easily distinguishable and added to their losses when fighting at long range. But the truly brave man is not apt to consider the consequences to his own safety, of wearing a dress or carrying an insignia which he would otherwise bear with propriety and with pride. It was an inviting mark which Henri of Navarre offered to the foe at Ivry, in the white plume with which he led on his followers; and Murat, when he made those desperate charges to which reference has before been made during the progress of this narration, must have known that his flashing silks, his feathers and embroidery, put his life much more in danger than that of an officer less conspicuously clad; but neither the foe of the League nor the brother-in-law of Napoleon remembered the danger when the glory was to be won and the great object of the soldier accomplished. Perhaps that duellist may be pardoned by those who look on, when he carefully removes from his person every mark that could furnish a target to his enemy, but he is no more than pardoned; and if there is one redeeming trait in the detestable character of the duellist, it is to be found in that ready exposure of his life to the chances of _fate_ and _skill_, which does not stop to calculate a button or measure the narrowest line of aim which can be presented to an adversary. Straitened circumstances and the want of many of the appliances of luxury, may have had something to do with the lack of personal display on the part of the Confederates, more especially the officers, throughout the struggle; but a long time will elapse before the non-chivalrous "Yankees" whom they have despised, will cease to believe that commendable anxiety for personal safety has lain at the