As the wounded died on the way
they were moved to the bow and their faces covered.
At the landing tender hands were lifting them into the ambulances which
slowly moved out in one line to the hospitals and back in a circle by
another. These ambulances stretched in tragic, unbroken procession for
three miles and never ceased to move on and on in an endless circle for
three days and nights.
In an agony of anxiety Betty asked to be transferred to the landing that
she might watch them fill the wagons. Her soul was oppressed with the
certainty that John Vaughan would be found in one of them.
On the morning of the third day they were still coming in never-ending
streams from the steamer decks. She wrung her hands in a moment of
despair:
"Merciful God! Are they bringing back Grant's whole army?"
The patience of these suffering men was sublime. Only a sigh from one
who would rise no more. Only a groan here and there from parched lips
that asked for water.
At last came the ominous news for which she had watched and waited with
sickening forebodings. The _Republican_ printed the name of Captain John
Vaughan among the wounded in the fight of Warren and Hancock's corps
over the Weldon Railroad. There were only two thousand wounded men sent
in on the steamers from the front after this battle, and they arrived at
night.
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