“The fact that Julius Caesar and Napoleon Bonaparte were great generals without military training except in the field proved nothing. If men like those who first commanded our army in the East, and who formed the coterie, had lived during the Revolutionary War, Washington and the best of his generals would not have been permitted to have commanded a brigade, if these men could have controlled as they did at the outbreak of the rebellion. The same feeling has grown among our people since the war, until the brains of a man cuts but little figure in matters connected with governmental affairs. He must belong to one of two classes: either a snob or one who has made a fortune. No matter whether he made it selling rotten blankets to the Government, worthless arms for the soldiers, bad meat, diseased horses, small mules, rotten and poorly-put-together harness, or procured his money in some other way--if he has it, the conclusion is at once that he is a great man and full of wisdom. These things are unfortunate in a government like ours. But this is the tendency, and has been for many years. Dash and swell is the motto now; it is growing more in that direction every day. But I have wandered away from my subject. The battlefield of Pageland and its surroundings was a sight to behold the day after our defeat. The private soldiers felt outraged and officers were discouraged, and many good people despaired of our final success. Even the President was more despondent than he had ever been, but still had faith in God and our cause. The losses on both sides were very great. The country all around was by both sides turned into a great hospital. The army was almost disorganized; it certainly was most thoroughly demoralized. Gen. Pike was relieved, and McGregor put in command again. Fitzgibbon was sent to the rear without a command. Farlin was everywhere by every friend of his country severely censured. Fitzgibbon was denounced as a traitor to his superior officer. “The mournful part to myself and family had only in part come upon us. Dr. James Lyon, having cut one of his hands in making an amputation, feared bad results from the wound; for that reason he procured a leave of absence, and accompanied the remains of his brother David home. I will not attempt to describe to you the depth of grief in our family, from the oldest to the youngest. It was greater than I now wish to recall, even though so many years have passed since that melancholy scene. Suffice it to say that Gen. David Lyon fills the grave of as gallant and noble a soldier as ever drew a sword. He rests beside his wife and little daughter Sarah in the cemetery at Allentown.” “The old man, overcome by this recital, could not speak for some time, but finally continued: