In the nearly two decades since our book My Brave Boys came out, Mark Travis and I have received regular updates about Col. Edward E. Cross, the book’s central character and New Hampshire’s greatest Civil War hero. Researchers, descendants of soldiers in Cross’s 5th New Hampshire Volunteers, and 5th re-enactors have all expanded our knowledge of the man.

Our most faithful correspondent is David Morin, who knows as much about New Hampshire Civil War soldier life as anyone. You can enjoy many of his finds on “The Yankee Volunteer,” his website.

Recently Dave found a Cross story that was new to us. It comes from Leaves from the Diary of an Army Surgeon, published in 1863. Thomas Ellis, its author, was a native Briton who acted as medical director at White House landing on the Pamunkey River during the Peninsula campaign of 1862.

On June 1, Cross was shot in the leg at Fair Oaks, the first of several wounds before a bullet at Gettysburg ended his life. Along with many others, he was evacuated from White House hospital by steamer and sent to a Philadelphia hospital. My Brave Boys described these events in detail.

Ellis’s account picks it up from there. He found the colonel as excitable as ever in his hospital bed. Agitated that a New York newspaper had denied his men proper credit for their part at Fair Oaks while exaggerating the role of New York regiments, he bent Ellis’s ear the whole time he was in the hospital.

Here is Ellis’s diary account of their “conversation”:

At the invitation of the surgeons in charge, I visited the hospitals in which the wounded volunteers from the several steamers I had dispatched from the White House and from the Louisiana, were cared for. On my arrival at the U.S. hospital, corner of Fifth and Buttonwood streets, I was unexpectedly greeted with a hearty cheer from the poor fellows, as they lay on their comfortable beds.

Many of their faces were quite familiar to me, but the number I had attended during the preceding eventful week was so large that I could not possibly recollect them all. They, however, generally recognized me, and expressed their thanks.

I found here Col. Cross, of the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers, who had been wounded in the leg, while leading on the brigade of which his regiment formed a part, and of which he was then in command. I was gratified to find him fast recovering from the effect of his wound, but suffering mentally from some unjust statements, in relation to his regiment, that appeared in one of the New York papers of the day previous. Jealous of the well-earned reputation of his gallant corps, and of his own valorous conduct, he stated the particulars of his part in the engagement, which I give in his own words:

“My regiment, the 5th New Hampshire Volunteers, was detached from Howard’s Brigade on Saturday evening, and on Sunday morning occupied the extreme right of the line formed by General French, when we skirmished with the enemy, and took quite a number of prisoners.

“The battle had raged some time when orders came for me to go to the relief of a portion of French’s Brigade. I moved quickly down the railroad track, passed General French, and halted on the track, face to the enemy, in rear of the position just occupied by Howard’s two regiments, the 61st and 64th New York. Being in command of the brigade, I sent an order by Adjutant Gregory, of the 61st, for the two regiments to clear my front as soon as possible, and I would take their place. This was done at once, and while the movement was going on, the Irish Brigade came up in my rear. The 69th New York formed on the right of my line, and the 88th on my left, but in rear of my line, where they halted.

“The 5th New Hampshire then entered the woods, solitary and alone, the regiments on the right and left remaining in their places. About 200 yards from the railroad track we came upon the dead and wounded of the 61st and 64th New York, and a few yards farther on we met the enemy. Twice we drove back their line, and it rallied; the third time it broke. Most of the firing took place at twenty yards range.

“While advancing the second time on the enemy’s line, the 69th fired a volley right into the backs of my men, for I had obliqued my line to prevent being flanked. That volley mortally wounded many of my best men. Fortunately, being on the railroad track, their aim was high.

“I expected the two regiments on my flanks would have entered the woods with us, but they did not; and why, I never could learn. When the enemy ceased firing, my regiment broke by the right of companies to the rear and filed out to the railroad. It was here I received this ugly wound in the thigh, that made me acquainted with you, Doctor.

“My boys carried me to the track, in front of the regiment. On the track we found the two regiments; and here two men of the 69th relieved my own men, and carried me to the rear.

“The Irish Brigade, while on the track, lost four killed and twenty-seven wounded. The 5th New Hampshire lost nearly two hundred killed and wounded, among them myself, the major, and many other officers; and yet we have hardly been mentioned as having been in the fight, and there, as you see (handing me the newspaper), grossly misrepresented. No other regiment was sent into the woods.

“This ended the fight of Sunday. The 5th bore their part in its closing scene, and not till then did I turn over the command of the 1st Brigade to Col. Parker. It is true that the brave Howard’s Brigade bore the brunt of Sunday’s fight, and no doubt the official reports will do justice to the 61st and 64th regiments, which fought so well and lost so heavily. But I do want to see justice done the 5th, and no more. We did our duty, and want our country to know it; and I owe it to the mothers, wives, and sisters of the brave boys I took with me from New Hampshire that the truth should be told.”

The recital of the above consumed all the time I could spare to this well-ordered establishment. It had been a coach factory, and was converted into a hospital. The wards were large, and kept well ventilated. The patients, one and all, were loud in their praises of the care they were receiving, and of the kind attentions bestowed on them by the ladies of Philadelphia, many of whom I saw tenderly nursing the wounded, to whom the change from the bloody field of Fair Oaks to the comforts they were then surrounded with, must have been as striking as agreeable.

(Mike Pride is editor emeritus of the Monitor and retired administrator of the Pulitzer Prizes.)