CHICKAMAUGA. 85 



mark, weather-beaten and fast going to ruin. 

 In the woods — cleared of underbrush, and 

 with little herbage — were scattered ground 

 flowers : houstonia, yellow and violet oxalis, 

 phlox, cranesbill, bird-foot violets, rue ane- 

 mones, and spring beauties. I remarked 

 especially a bit of bright gromwell, such as 

 I had found first at Orchard Knob, and a 

 single tuft of white American cowslip (Do- 

 decatheon), the only specimen I had ever 

 seen growing wild. The flower that pleased 

 me most, however, was the blood-red catch- 

 fly, which I had seen first on Missionary 

 Kidge. Nothing could have been more ap- 

 propriate here on the bloody field of Chick- 

 amauga. Appealing to fancy instead of 

 to fact, it nevertheless spoke of the battle 

 almost as plainly as the hundreds of decapi- 

 tated trees, here one and there one, which 

 even the most careless observer could not 

 fail to notice. 



From the Brotherton house to the post- 

 office was a sunny stretch, but under the 

 protection of my umbrella I compassed it ; 

 and then, passing the Widow Glenn's 

 (Rosecrans's headquarters), on the road to 

 Crawfish Springs, I came to a diminutive 



