and not savages, and they would not be molested. They soon became quiet. There was a roar of musketry on the island above us, and the sky was lurid with the flames of burning tents and commissary stores. I sent a courier to Colonel Chalmers, telling him to send his wounded to the hospital tent, as I had everything in abundance for a primary dressing. I never heard of my messenger afterwards.

Meanwhile day was breaking, the musketry firing was rapidly approaching, and soon passed us on the Bay shore. knew we had been left behind, and concluded to make our way to the boat, if possible. We had proceeded but a short distance, expecting every moment a shot in the back, as we were evidently being used as a long-distance target by some of the enemy, as evidenced by the bullets in the air which came thick and fast. Dr. Lipscomb, who was some fifty or sixty yards in front of me, was suddenly surrounded by a squad of Zouaves who put their bayonets to his abdomen, saying: "Kill him! Kill the damned rebel!"

I approached with some misgivings and trepidation as I had heard that Billy Wilson's Zouaves were the wharf-rats and offscourings of New York, calling out to them that we were medical officers, and that even savages did not murder surgeons. We would have been slaughtered then and there, I verily believe, but at the supreme moment a squad of regulars, led by a sergeant, came over the same hillocks of sand that had hidden the Zouaves from us, saw at once what was the matter, and rushed forward with clubbed muskets, saying: "Get to your camp, you infernal scoundrels. You can't murder men in cold blood while with us." We felt very much relieved. The next moment a Federal major, Vosdges, by name, as I afterwards learned, came up on horseback, asked us our names and rank, and said to the sergeant: "Take these gentlemen to the fort, treat them courteously, but shoot them if they attempt to escape."

We were escorted to the fort, and placed in a large barrackroom in company with fifty or sixty other prisoners. In a short time we were ordered out into the area of the fort, drawn up in line, and our name and rank asked, and then marched back to

the barrack.

In a few minutes an officer came, and called the surgeons out. We were given a nice tent, with mattress and blankets, and made very comfortable. When dinner hour arrived, an orderly came, and said Colonel Brown requested our company to dine with him. We obeyed this summons most cheerfully, as we had eaten nothing for nearly twenty-four hours. Colonel Brown received us very kindly and politely, saying feelingly : "Gentlemen, I have been in the service of my country for nearly fifty years, and it almost breaks my heart to see Americans, who should be brethren, shooting each other down as we were doing last night." If I am not mistaken, the eyes of this grand old man were filled with tears, and I must confess that I felt very much like crying myself, as I had just seen a number of gallant young fellows, lying stark and cold, in lines, each covered with a new blanket having "U. S." in large letters in its center. This was my initiation into the horrors of war, which paled into insignificance after my subsequent experience in the hospitals. We were invited to sup and breakfast with the Colonel, and were treated as courteously as if we had been honored guests instead of prisoners of war. After breakfast we were conducted into a casemate, where we found paper, ink, and pens, and we were told we could write to our wives or friends. I was much gratified at being able to let my wife know that I was safe. As I fully expected to be sent North, I feared she might not know for some time what had become of me. Soon the officer returned, took our letters, and re-appeared in a short time with paroles, which we were requested to sign, stating that a boat awaited to take us, under flag of truce, to the navy yard. These paroles only required us not to serve any longer in Florida. To say we were pleased is to put it mildly. In an hour or so we were at the navy yard. I called upon our gallant General Bragg, to bid him adieu. He invited me to dine with him, which I did, and then hurried to camp to say farewell to my numerous friends. The next day I was on my way home. When I reached Holly Springs I found my wife in great distress. She had just seen in the Memphis papers an account of our capture. That evening my letter reached us, and my wife had the curiosity to see what I had

written. Immediately she called my attention to a post scriptum by Colonel Brown, which was as follows:

"Permit me to comfort the wife's heart by saying that Dr. Gholson shall be released, as soon as I can do it consistently with the safety of my command. In the meantime he will be perfectly safe. HARVEY BROWN, Colonel Commanding.

Fort Pickens, Oct. 9, 1861.”

This post scriptum increased my admiration and respect for the gallant old Colonel, who seemed so deeply distressed at the fratricidal strife in which we were engaged.

I was opposed to secession, and voted for the anti-secession candidate in my district, but when my native State, Virginia, seceded, and my adopted State, Mississippi, followed suit, I, too, became a secessionist, and did all I could, in my humble capacity, for the success of the Confederacy, and I feel an exalted pride in those brave and noble men, who for four long years, without a navy, with scant commissary, a dearth of medical supplies, and imperfect arms, contended with an army five times as numerous, supplied in superabundance with everything needed in field and hospital, and, in addition, a large navy to back them. It seems almost incredible. In a few years more the last of the Confederate surgeons will have crossed the river, "to rest in the shade," as the heroic and immortal Jackson said, and I hope and trust each and all will receive the plaudit: "Well done, good and faithful servants." No blush of shame should mantle the cheek of those who surrendered only to the inevitable, but they should feel proud at having been the comrades and fellow soldiers of the heroes who fell on many a hardly contested field.

Editorial.

A FEW WORDS ABOUT THE SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER.

In completing our editorial work for our first number of our TWENTYSEVENTH VOLUME, we are more than gratified to state that 1904 closed with a larger number of paid subscriptions than any year that has preceded it in any of the twenty-six years of its publication. And now before the year has closed, we have added to our subscription list for 1905 during the month of December alone seventy-eight new subscribers, and the renewals of former subscriptions have exceeded by far any preceding year, prior to the issue of the first number for the new year. But let us see what our friends say themselves. It is we hope, with pardonable pride and no little gratification, that we place before the readers of this number, a few special remarks accompanying some of the many letters of renewal. The first is from one whose name has been continuously on our list since 1879, and is given in full:

Dear Doctor Roberts:

66

By the presence of a cold wave- called "Norther" by Texans I am admonished that the annual big “Cider Jug" must be replenished, and that nothing short of Sumner's Best" is good enough for Tennessee doctors. I enclose $1.00, believing that the noble inspiration thereby produced will enable you to still further improve the S. P.'s monthly dish of good things you are in the habit of placing before the true, and the prodigal sons of Father Bowling, hoping thereby to so increase your spiritual strength that instructive inspiration may as freely flow from your great, trenchant gander-quill as to enable you to lead all good doctors to so preen their pinions that they, too, may sit with thee upon the lofty, gilded perch, where none but good and great doctors are allowed to roost. With best wishes, Yours truly,

Dear Doctor:

Q. C. SMITH, Austin, Texas.

Enclosed please find $1.00, currency, subscription to the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER. While now over seventy-five years old, and yet able to mount my horse and enjoy a lively gallop, I have retired from the active practice of my profession, doing only office and consultation work, I feel lost without the monthly.

Yours very truly,

J. J. TERRELL, Burton's Creek, Va.

It is the one journal with me. Prosperity and success to you and it. Your friend,

W. J. BUNCH, Hot Springs, Ark.

I like the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER very much.

Very truly yours,

RUFUS PITTS, Murfreesboro, Tenn.

I don't see how I could do without the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER.

Yours truly,

L. A. PARKER, Saltillo, Tenn.

Enclosed I send you one dollar for the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER for 1905. I could not very well do without it, having received and read every number since it was first published.

Very truly yours,

F. M. CAPPS, Coxburgh, Tenn.

Enclosed please find $1.00, cash, this being my twenty-fifth subscription to your journal. Wishing you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year,

Respectfully,

SAMUEL DENTON, Buffalo Valley, Tenn. Enclosed please find P. O. order for $1.00, for your valuable journal.

Yours truly,

G. A. HOGG, Altheimer, Ark. You will please send the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER to me so long as I may live. I assure you I appreciate it above all other journals I have ever received.

Yours truly,

J. M. CUNNINGHAM, Shelbyville, Tenn.

In the multitude of papers and journals I sometimes neglect to renew. In such cases I always want to be reminded of the fact or the paper discontinued at once, but I have not yet decided to drop the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER, SO you will find enclosed one dollar, in currency, for same. Yours very truly,

W. H. MOON, Goodwater, Ala. Pease find enclosed one dollar in two cent stamps to renew subscription to the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER. I am well satisfied with the investment.

Very respectfully,

WM. F. BEARD, Shelbyville, Ky. After twenty-three years reading it, I get my money's worth each year, full value. Wishing you success,

I am yours,

F. T. Cook, Taylor, Texas.

I have taken the SOUTHERN PRACTITIONER Since the first issue. Long

life and success to it and you.

Your friend,

J. A. ROGERS, Leeville, Tenn.