The wounded were brought into the city by the hundreds and there was hardly a private house without its quota of sick and wounded. Quite a number of private hospitals were established but, unlike Miss Tompkins's splendid institution, charges were made by some of them for services rendered. In course of time abuses grew with the system, and General Lee ordered that they all be closed--all except the hospital of Miss Tompkins. This was recognized as too helpful to the Confederate cause to be abolished. In order to preserve it it had to be brought under government control, and to do this General Lee ordered a commission as captain in the Confederate army to be issued to Miss Sallie Tompkins. Though a government hospital from that time on, Captain Tompkins conducted it as before, paying its expenses out of her private purse. The veterans are proud of her record, and a movement is now on foot among them to place Captain Tompkins in a position of independence as long as she lives. THE ANGEL OF THE HOSPITAL [From the Gray Jacket, pages 143-146.] 'Twas nightfall in the hospital. The day, As though its eyes were dimmed with bloody rain From the red clouds of war, had quenched its light, And in its stead some pale, sepulchral lamps Shed their dim lustre in the halls of pain, And flitted mystic shadows o'er the walls. No more the cry of "Charge! On, soldiers, on!" Stirred the thick billows of the sulphurous air; But the deep moan of human agony, From the pale lips quivering as they strove in vain To smother mortal pain, appalled the ear, And made the life-blood curdle in the heart. Nor flag, nor bayonet, nor plume, nor lance, Nor burnished gun, nor clarion call, nor drum, Displayed the pomp of battle; but instead The tourniquet, the scalpel, and the draught, The bandage, and the splint were strewn around-- Dumb symbols, telling more than tongues could speak The awful shadows of the fiend of war.