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title: 'The National tribune. (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, November 12, 1881, Page 3, Image 3',
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THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE: WASHINGTON, D. C, NOVEMBER 12, 1881,
H. II. HKOWNELL.
Note. During the assault on Vicksburg a brigade
which had been ordered up as support failed to follow
the storming party of one hundred and fifty men, who,
becoming discouraged, eventually retreated to a ravine
all but one. William Trogden, color bearer, a private
of Company 13, Eighth Missouri, refused to retrace
a single step. "When his comrades lea him, he dug
a hole in the ground with his bayonet, planted his
flag-staff in it within twenty yards of the enemy's rifle
pits, and silt down beside " Old Glory," where he re
mained all day. Report of the. Assault on Vicksfmrp.
Let them go ! they are brave, I know
But a berth like this, why it suits me best;
I can't carry back the Old Colors to-day,
We've come together a long, rough way
Here's as good a pot as any to rest.
No look, I reckon, to hold them long ;
So here, in the turf, with my bayonet.
To dig for a bit, and plant them strong
(Look out for the point we may want it yet!)
Dry work 1 but the old canteen holds faM
A few drops of water not over-fresh
So, for a drink ! it may be the last
Here's my respects to you, Mr. Seccsh !
No great show for the snakes to sight;
Our boys keep 'em busy yet, by the powers !
Hark, what a row going on, to the right!
Better luck there, I hope, than ours.
Half an hour ! (and you'd swear 'twas three)-
Here, by the bully old stafT, I've sat
Long enough, as it seems to me,
To lose as many lives as a cat.
Now and then, they gutter away ;
A. puff and u crack, and 1 hear the ball.
Mighty poor shooting, I should sny
Not bad fellows, may be, after all.
3ry chance, of course, isn't worth a dime
But 1 thought 'twould be over, sudden and quick.
Well, since it seems that we're not on time,
Here's for a touch of Kilikinick.
Cool as a clock ! and, what is strange,
Out of this dream of death and alarm,
(This wild, hard week of battle and change,)
Out of the rifle's deadly range
My thoughts are all at the dear old farm.
'Tis green as a sward, by this, I know
The orchard is just beginning to set,
They mowed the home-lot a week ago
The corn must be late, for that piece is wet.
I can think of one or two, that would wipe
A drop or so from a soft blue eye,
To see me sit and pufl' my pipe,
With a hundred death's heads grinning hard by.
And I wonder, when this has all passed o'er.
And the tattered old stars in triumph wave on
Through street and square, with welcoming roar,
If ever they'll think of us who are gone?
How we marched together, sound or sick.
Sank in the trench o'er the heavy spade
How we charged on the guns, at double-quick.
Kept rank for Death to choose and to pick
And lay on the bed no fair hands made.
Ah, well ! at last, when the Nation's free.
And flags are flapping from bluff to bay.
In old St. Lou what a time there'll le !
I mayn't be there the Hurrah to see
But if the Old Rag goes back to-day,
They never shall say 'twas carried by me I
SIXTEEN YEARS AFTER.
THE BATTLE OF SHARPSBURG.
M- Quad in IhAn. t f roc iVc
T rik nj the ! n? street Ihrtmgb the quaint
'.a!i- iYi ! --c-; of h ridge on vh.c ,.ov
Stands a .National Cemetery, and i'roni mis point
the eye can see where every brigade and division
fought on that memorable 17th day of Septem
Pope had been ciushed at Manassas, and Lee
had invaded Maryland. General McClellan, re
tired in disgrace to Alexandria, had been sum
moned to his old command, and if he could not
reorganize Pope's shattered and disheartened
forces, overtake Lee and "win a victory, the Union
was doomed. All felt it, and knew it. McClel
lan was the only bulwark between Lee and a
Northern invasion. In a week Lee was brought
to bay on the hills of Sharpsburg. But for the
disgraceful surrender of Miles at Harpers Ferry
his army would have been bagged, and but for
the Secretary of "War Miles would have been re
placed before the surrender by one who would
have held the stronghold.
Here, then, on the 16th of September Lee had
his back to the Potomac and his face to the
mountains of Maryland, with his headquarters
in the very building in which I write. McClel
lan had his back to the mountains, and all was
ready lor the awful carnage of the morrow.
Tlie battle-field is the most beautiful landscape
the eye ever rested upon, and it looks to-day
almost exactly as it did when the sun rose on
that beautiful autumn morning to be lost sight
of in the clouds of smoke and death. You look
down on wheat-fields, pastures, orchards, farm
houses, hay -ricks, and highways. There are
hills and valleys and groves and patches of for
est, and Antietam Creek winds in and out and
rushes and gurgles just as it did that morning
when Generals Lee and Jackson stood on the hill
behind me and scanned the fields with their
rik nj the
glasses. It was the grandest battle-field of the
war. Even Gettysburg did not afford such posi
tions for artillery, and the plains of Manassas did
not offer such chances for -the movement of in
fantry. Hooker began the fight on theright almost
before it was light enough for the men to see to
dress their battle lines, ne had Stonewall Jack
son in front of him with not over six thousand
men. Jackson's left rested on the Potomac to
cover a ford. Hooker was to drive him down on
Lee's centre, and the first grapple took place in
the woods along the Hagerstown road. Hooker
carried into action at least thirteen thousand
men, and Mansfield was right behind him with a
After nineteen years I Tode over the ground
with men who fought on either side in those
grim woods that day. There are fence rails along
the Hagerstown road in which one may count
from ten to thirty bullets. Scarcely a tree is
missing from the forest, and scarcely a tree can
be found which does not bear the scars of that
awful grapple. Limbs are lying where they fell
that morning as solid shot tore them away.
Trees were riven by shells, and stand there as
dead sentinels appearing to the past. Shot and
shell and grape-shot searched for men in blue and
gray, and finding them not, spent their fury on
the forest, and left wounds which nineteen long
years have failed to efface.
If Jackson was forced down on the centre Lee
was gone. Every man under him realized this,
and every confederate strung his nerves for des
perate fighting. Jackson had the advantage of
being attacked, but Hooker had three men to his
one, and was determined to crush him before
reinforcements could arrive from the centre. For
two hours the woods echoed screams and shrieks
and shouts and groans, and Hooker had not
driven Jackson a rod. Then Mansfield arrived
and threw his whole Corps into the struggle, and
the confederates were pressed back for more than
a mile to a point of woods within a quarter of a
mile of Jackson's head quarters, which were in
the Dunkcr Church, a mile or so above the village.
Shot and shell rained down about this building
until the field seemed to have been plowed, and
as I sat on the grass and looked up to see the
scars on the walls, my hand touched a fragment
of shell thrown there from Hooker's batteries.
"We will die here!" was the quiet order of
Jackson, as his forces were pushed to the edge of
the woods. To retreat further was to be without
cover. Right there in that bit of forest was a hell
on earth for the next half hour. Every stump
and rail, and tree, and stone, prove it to-day.
Here, after the armies had left, fanners collected
shot and shell by the wagon-load and hauled
them down to a sink or morass near the church
and dumped them in to have them out of the way.
Xot two or three wagon-loads, but fifteen or
twenty, and every year the plough turns up
grape and canister by the bushel.
Bravery in an enemy can be admitted and
admired without detracting from the bravery of
friends. Stonewall Jackson, with a mile and a
half of woods filled with the dead and wounded
from his six thousand men, turned at bay
and held the full eighteen thousand jnen under
Hooker and Mansfield. History admits it, and
General Sumner proved it before the Committee
on the Conduct of the War. General Mansfield
was fatally wounded, Hooker wounded, scores of
minor officers killed, and the limbs of the trees
barely outnumbered the dead and dying. I tore
up sods in that hell yesterday and found bullets
and grapeshot imbedded in the roots. I counted
fifty different scars on a tree no larger than my
body. I pushed through the undergrowth and
my boots crushed skulls and bones and struck
against solid shot which time had buried al
most out of sight. In one open glade, hardly
an acre in extent, fell 322 Federals and 197
confederates. A Union soldier who helped bury
them made the count. That fierce grapple so
broke Hooker's Corps that Sumner could not
find five hundred of them in any organized
Reinforcenieuts came to Jackson just in time
to prevent his utter annihilation. As soon as
they wheeled into line the whole force walked
over the disorganized Federals and stopped uot
until they rested once more on the battle-line of
the morning. That ended the fight on Lee's left.
We retraced our steps toward the Duuker
Church, and turned into what people here call
Bloody Lane. In some histories it is spoken of as
the Sunken Road. It is a highway cut through
hills for a. distance of a mile or so, and troops 1
1 HF OVe
it vou 'j. uol st.; utr. thi ! i ais
tO H .
iu my J'rn rods away, la this Sunken
- o hrijis - c: uiu oeiat-ea w zre jnu.v&ed
. Lx'- . ijv. T'" 'fr th
Antietam at eight o'clock and attack Longstreet,
finally moved at noon. His advance compelled
the withdrawal of several batteries on Lee's
centre, and a half-right-about-face of a portion
of the troops there, and McClellan now pushed
forward some of his batteries until they had the
range of this Sunken Road. Grape and canister
went screaming and shrieking through the
massed confederates, and not one-half of them
escaped from the trap. Citizens here who looked
down into that sunken road the day after the
fight, and before a corpse of all those thousands
on that bloody field had been buried, tell me
that it was the most awful sight men had ever
It was a slaughter pen, and worse yet. Heads,
arms, legs, feet, hands, and bloody trunks of
mangled humanity filled the road from bank to
bank, and old soldiers looked down from the
banks and turned away sick at heart.
Burnside's Bridge. They call it by that name to
this day. It is a stone bridge over the Antietam,
and in crossing it from McClellan's battle line to
Lee's position there is a deep cut in the hills as
the road rises to surmount the range. McClellan's
right and centre had moved forward and fought.
At noon Hooker had pushed Jackson a mile and
a half, and the centre had advanced a mile, forc
ing Lee to change his headquarters to a brick
house half a mile back of the town. Had Burn
side advanced at eight o'clock in the morning,
Lee would have been driven at every point. His
right was terribly weak, as Longstreet's men
were strung out all the way from the bridge to
Harper's Ferry. The order was to earn- the
bridge, but there is no point for a quarter of a
mile up or down that a soldier could not ford and
keep his cartridge-box dry. A skirmish line was
sent forward, a few shots were fired, and that was
Burnside's effort to cany out orders. At nine
Hooker had lost 2,000 men, and Burnside had
not killed a confederate. At eleven he was
where daylight found him. At noon, 6,000 Fed
erals lay dead, and Burnside had not lost a man.
He is dead now, but he lived to have historians
ask him if he was not cowardly, seeking a new
downfall for McClellan by thus refusing to obey
At one o'clock Colonel Key was ordered by
McClellan to force the bridge with Burnside's
troops, if Burnside would not lead them himself,
and then the side-whiskered General moved.
What was in front? The answer is, that two
single Federal regiments carried the bridge in
ten minutes, as soon as let loose. Lee had been
sending troops to aid Jackson, and his contempt !
for Burnside was shown in placing less than j
eight hundred men to guard this approach to his '
i i I
Burnside had the bridge, but Lee held the
heights above. One rush would have captured
his guns or driven them through the town, btit
Burnside advanced, halted, advanced, fought
faintly, and finally sent back for reinforcements,
when he had five men to Longstreet's one. It is
a bitter pill to swallow, but history has written
the prescription. Some of the guns on the height
had no support whatever. One rush from a
brigade would have cleared half a mile of the
I can count fitly bullet marks on the bridge,
although a part of the present structure is new.
From the creek below a dozen muskets were
fished out only ten days ago. Bullets can be
dug out of the clay bank beyond, and as I climb
the road and turn into the pasture lands I find
the scars of war on every tree and rock, but it
was a mere skirmish here.
Over between where the Sunken Road debouches
into the pike and the road skirting the woods
where nooker fought, is where the wheat grows
highest. Here the confederate brigades of Walker
and McLaws hurried into the fight as Jackson
had lost all hope. There was a cornfield here
then. In the morning the stalks and leaves were
green. Before the sun went down stalk and leaf
and husk were red with the spattered blood, and
corpses outnumbered the corn-hills. Battle lines
did not give way and retreat. They stood and
fought until they were absorbed. When Burn
side had lost fifty men on the ri!ht, more than
four thousand of the men of Hoo" .er and Mans
field lay dead in this field, wh" sh now grows
wheat so tall that I can hardly i . ch the ripened
From the Dunker Church I ca see across the
valley to where the rig1
all that day behind the
a shot. McClellan w
them. He did use the
to Lee. But for then
over Burnside Bridge
flank and crushed him
for them the men who
Sunken Road would '
centre in flank and i
would have held his li:
next day. Sharpsbu
Burnside could have n
What a storm the 1
Clellan did not bag L
field, and Sumner, dr.
line of the morning
ing and failing the ce
the town ; and it was T
been bagged but for t
lying along the Red '.
flaunt made of Lee's
Demoralized armies c
did that night, within
t not using
re a menace
nt down the
.r them Lee
-1 attack the
oughtohold would have
was a great
camp, as he
f his battle
fall and un
id his teeth,
eth into the
1 of Porter's
le the ford.
:he shot and
and here and
J . iCSO'.
v. 1 1-4- it
line, and coolly wait
cover a ford. He wai
When he retreated he
flesh of those that foil
guard pushed on after
the Potomac ran red
men. 1 pull off my
The rocks were rent
shell sent into the Fede.
.a iaka ? aiiLu
there, lodged between the stones or half buried
in the gravel, are rusty bayonets, buckles of
belts, halves of canteens, and other relics of the
awful slaughter which took place in the Com
Exchange ant" ther regiments.
And so as the sun goes down and the shadows
,; to ;. ! oi'i in-nunm:; ; iov y
hore beneath a ha tile -swiT&i "' fr
hk mross tht- hiat-c ' frT" Mti
be s.-- -?o tli1
the ranks. No answer to that appeal from the
political bigot under the shadow of the Capitol.
He had his foot on the neck of a popular com
mander, and he kept it there until Washington
and the North were threatened. Then he lifted
it and begged McClellan to save the country.
Victory at South Mountain filled the North with
rejoicing. Victory at Sharpsburg would again
place McClellan at the head. Who sought for
an excuse as soon as Lee was beaten back and
the North had recovered from the chill of tenor
to again degrade the man who had turned back
Lincoln dead Stanton dead Burnside dead
Halleck but history will never die.
The sun goes down as on that day. To-night
there is the lowing of kine, the far-away voices
of men, the soft rustle of the winds over fields of
corn and wheat and clover. On that night more
than fifteen thousand corpses lay on these fields
before me, with white faces and bloody hands
uplifted in pitiful appeal to the young harvest
moon. Meadow and cornfield and thicket shiv
ered under the stains of blood, and the swift
moving waters of the creek ceased their flow as
they found the channel filled with dams made of
human corpses. All this here, and yet it was not
enough. In the dark woods beyond the shot
riven church, in which each Sabbath day was
raised a prayer to God for peace, were limb and
trunk and corpse, until wounded horses turned
back and sought another way.
It is dark as I ride slowly over the hill, wet
with blood that day, and now and then I look
back and almost believe that 1 am followed by a
troop of spectres, who wave their skeleton arms
in the faint moonlight as if drying me from that
A great deal of water can be got from a small
pipe if the bucket is always there to catch it.
VETERAN AND RECRUIT,
He filled the crystal goblet
With golden-beaded wine.
" Come, comrades, now, I bid ye,
'To the true love of mine ! '
"Her forehead's pure and holy,
Her hair is tangled gold.
Her heart, to me so tender,
To others' love is cold.
"So drain your glasses empty
And fill me another yet ;
Two glasses at least for the dearest
And sweetest girl, Lisette."
Up rose a grizzled sergeant
" 31 y true love I give thee,
Three true loves blent in one love,
A soldier's trinity.
' Here's to the flag we follow,
Here'h to the land we .serve,
And here's to holy honor
That doth the two preserve."
Then rose they up around him,
And raised their eyes above,
And drank in solemn silence
Unto the sergeant's love.
E. Mr. Harwell.
STOOD BY HIS GUN.
Eighteen years ago, says the Little Rock Ga
zette, one of the most dramatic incidents of the
late war called late because, let it be hoped, all
of its issues are dead occurred at Fourche Dam,
a few miles below this city. General Price and
his army were occupying this city. General
Steele was advancing. The Avhole country was
in a terrible state of excitement. A battle was
expected. Everyone had confidence in the brav
ery and military skill of General Price. His
achievements were heralded, his praises sung.
One night, before the dawning of the 10th of
September, 1863, a confederate officer, on duty
with his men at an outrpost, having received di
rect information from a man who had been in the
enemy's camp, lay down by a fire, and on a leaf
torn from an old account book, wrote a dispatch
to a senior officer, beginning: "The ball opens
to-morrow," and giving a statement as to the
number of men in the enemy's ranks, showing
that his force was inferior to Price's army. The
officer wrote "respectfully forwarded" on the
paper, and dispatched a man to Little Rock, with
instractions to deliver the communication to
The general could not be found. He was play
ing cards at a private residence, and only became
aware that the time for action had come when
the booming of cannon, just at daylight, aroused
him. The soldiers down the river fought desper
ately. They were compelled to retreat. Falling
back to Fourche Dam, it was determined that a
final resistance should be made. General New
ton, who had been sent back to form the men as
they arrived, was executing that order when
General Marmaduke, who had been arrested for
killing General Walker, and who had just been
released, dashed up and exclaimed :
"We must make a fight here to cover Price's
"Cover Price's retreat?" replied Newton in
"Yes ; for his army is in full retreat."
Nothing but fight was left. The enemy charged,
but was repulsed. Jeffreys was ordered to take
his Missouri brigade, cross the creek and feel of
the enemy. He crossed, and not only felt of the
enemy, but following the promptings of an im
pulsive nature, charged the section of a battery,
supported by cavalry. The cavalry, from the
suddenness of the attack, was thrown into con
fusion and retreated, leaving the guns unsup
ported. The captain of the battery, a young man
from Chicago, stood by one of the guns, with a
revolver in each hand, firing rapidly. He was
completely surrounded, but refused to surrender.
The confederates, in admiration of his bravery,
stopped firing and cheered him. He was repeat
edly told to surrender, and as often Tefused. He
continued to fire, and had wounded several men.
"This thing is gettin' tiresome, cap'n," yelled
a lank Missourian, "an' if you don't behave your
self an' and quit your skylarkin, youll get hurt."
The brave fellow, with a disdainful gesture,
"I told the people of Chicago that I would
never surrender this battery, and by all the de
mons in hell Pll kAep rnv Trnr o-pJ TjC oV"i
v- -t (.icV'-Nami Le. the ju.uk i
i.-S'y ii' "f hj.-i, -p-' throv, iv up bis ?-. J
;t i-; a TiM fell acros- hi- jrt " '
x.iaiOiiiaU, oaiu iuc Jtjra, uo nicy liliu lillU.
on the ground preparatory to removing the gun.
"Brave man ; it is a pity we had to kill him."
"The gun, with its death-mark of life's blood,
was drawn away by the confederates, and used in
a dozen different battles, but no one ever washed
off the blood. Once when an officer asked one of
the men why he did not wash his gun, the soldier
related the circumstances of Reed's death. "Let
the blood remain : it is a mark of respect to the
memory of a brave man."
Just before the close of the war Captain Reed,
the name applied to the 0.n, was dismounted by
a cannon ball. After the battle the soldiers ten
derly buried the heavy iron. The rains of heaven
or the hands of man had not washed off the blood.
New Yorlc News.
A HEALTHY SENTINEL.
Throughout the siege of Standerton we had
given a girl's name for the countersign. The men
liked it. Every night some of them felt that the
gan-ison was watched over by her he loved best,
and it came to be the evening's topic with them
who she was to be when the orders were read out.
It put us about a little to find names, but we did
it, only standing out against Jemima, and pub
lished a fresh name every night. The first name
we hit upon was Alice. Many of us had an Alice
we loved at home, so we put her iu the front rank.
Later on. when the fort was clean enough, we
christened it after her, and Fort Alice is now the
official title of the fort which held Standerton.
Many were the discussions the men had over
these names. Violet was one, and I remember hear
ing an obstinate fellow silenced, on objecting that
it was a flower, not a " gal," by a comrade, who
explained that "Violet is the flower, we all know
that, but a girl's called Violette, with a 'he.'"
Another time, when the password was Mag, the
following conversation took place outside the fort
between a sentry and a late comer: Sentry
Who comes there? Latecomer Friend. Sentry
Stand, friend. Advance one and give the coun
tersign. Late comer I don't know it. Sentry
Why, it's Mag. Late comer Oh, Mag. Sentry
Pass, Mag, all's well. Blackwood's Magazine.
A TERRIBLE COMBAT.
A perpendicular old rock which rises in the
middle of Lake Champlain, near Plattsburg, is
(Milled Little Independence, in reference to the be
lief that during the struggle for independence the
British squadron passed close to the old rock.
Mistaking it for a vessel the commander hailed it,
but received no reply. He hailed again, louder
than before ; still the rock was silent. " Hang the
Yankee," muttered the commander; "give him a
broadside." The broadside was fired accordingly,
but the shot poured back from its side among his
own men. " That's your game, is it ? " said the com
mander. " Give them another; " which they did,
and again the old rock hurled back the British
shot. It was only as the light grew stronger that
the commander recognized the nature of his an
tagonist, and then he withdrew to St. Johns to
YARDS OF RED TAPE.
Centralization and red tape seem to have
reached their most perfect development inI5ur
mah. "If," says the Allahabad Pioneer, "A chimney
smokes in the barracks at Rangoon, the officer
commanding the troops who occupy the building
refers the matter to the proper staff officer, who
ever he may be; he communicates with the mil
itary staff at Madras, and the commander-in-chief
at that presidency brings the question to the no
tice of the local Government. The Government
of Madras then addresses the Government of
India at Simla, and the papers on the subject
travel about that station for a while in boxes.
There a dispatch is prepared, and finally sent to
the Chief Commissioner of British Burmah, who
sets the machinery of his administration in
motion, and then the officer in charge of military
works at Rangoon sends for a maistree, and.thc
chimney is set to rights. Some impatient reform
ers want to alter the system, but the army organ
ization authorities of the Indian office declare
that the greatness of the British empire in the
East has grown under the existing system, and
that it is better to let well alone."
HE KNEW HIS DUTY.
Dnriug the siege of Paris in 1870, M. Arthur
Ranee was Mayor of the Ninth Arrondisement.
One night, when a sortie had been made, "the
streets were crowded with people anxious to learn
news from the battle-field. With great difficulty
M. Ranee forced his way to the door of his office,
but there two sentries crossed their bayonets be
fore him. "No one can pass in here without an
order from the Mayor!" "But I say I'm the
Mayor ! " " That makes no difference you can't
pass in here without an order." Thereupon Mr.
Ranee gravely drew out his pocket-book and
wrote on a leaf: "Allow me to pass. (Signed),
Ranee, Mayor," which precious order he handed
to the sentry. "Ah. that's all right ! Pass in,
sir ! Our orders were imperative, you know! "
The daily papers give a description of the cast
ing by the Reading Iron Company of a model
Lymann-Haskell accelerating or multi-charge
gun. When completed the gun is to be tried at
Sandy Hook. It is 25 feet long, with a six-inch
bore, and along the bore are four additional
chambers for powder, the latter being successively
discharged after the initial charge of powder in
the chamber has been fired. It is claimed that
130 pounds of powder will throw a solid iron
projectile weighing 150 pounds at least ten miles,
and that it will go through a solid mass of
wrought iron nearly two feet thick. The pockets
are loaded in the same manner as a breech-loader,
each pocket to contain 23 pounds of powder.
The chamber is to contain 18 pounds. A velocity
of 3,000 feet per second is claimed as attainable
with the new gun. In a report on this gun, made
June 17, 1878, Major-General W. McKee, Ordnance
Department, U. S. A., gives it as his opinion that
" the gun can be made strong enough to be per
fectly reliable and safe in firing." He declares
his belief in the feasibility of totally extinguish
ing windage in the gun. The difficulty he fore--es
is in loading the gun with sufficient rapidity,
tough when loaded it can be fired and given
A LITTLE GIRL TO A SOLDIER.
Dear Soldier Boy: Will you please accept of
this little token of love from, a little girl only ten
years old ? There was a man at our school who
said that all of the scholars might do something
for the brave soldiers if they wished. He told
us about making the little comfort bags, which
we were all delighted to do. All the girls made
one, and some two or three. I was very glad to
do a little. All of my brothers are in the army.
My oldest brother was the first man to enlist in
this county. There is a little bit of fun con
nected with his enlistment. At that time sol
diers were required to be of a certain height, and
brother wanted three-fourths of an inch of the
required height. To make this he went to the
shoe shop and had soles of that thickness put on
his boots. He went as a private in the Twelfth
Indiana, but has been promoted several times,
and is adjutant of that regiment at the present
time. I want to tell you about my darling
brother. He was the best boy that ever lived.
I loved him so much it makes me almost cry
every time I think of him. He always called
me "Petty," and would take me on his lap and
kiss me and ask me how much I had learned at
school. Then he would take me to father's office
and have me sing the pieces I learned to pkry on
the piano, and he would learn to sing them.
But the wicked rebels killed my darling brother
on the 22d of July, at the battle of Atlanta. He
was shot'iY times, and only lived six hours.
Brother Marsh found him and put him on a
stretcher, and carried him back from the field.
Poor brother Lonnie died in brother Marsh's
arms. They made his grave under a large oak tree
and put a rail fence around it. It is two miles
northeast of Atlanta. If yon should pass near
it won't you visit it for his little sister? I have
to cry when I write about my angel brother.
Don't you think he is an angel ? He was so
good ; he did not do bad things like some boys.
I dreamed of him the other night. I thought.
I was in father's buggy, and he with some other
soldiers was riding around it as fast as they could,
and every time Lonnie came to the back of the
carriage he would reach in and kiss me. I was
so happy then ; but when I awoke and found it
was a dream I felt bad. My father was surgeon
in the army a while, but his health got so poor
that he had to come home. He has never been
well since. My youngest brother is in the Fifty
My home is in . If you think it worth
while to write a letter to a little girl like me I
will send you my photograph. If you write,
tell me if you have any little sisters. I do hope
you will get home to those who love you. When
ma puts me in bed and I say my prayers I will
pray for the soldier who gets this little note :is I
used to pray for darling brother Lonnie. Won't
you ask Jesus to make me good always when
you pray? I will ask him to take care of yon,
and let you come home. Good-by, soldier boy.
From your little friend, Jenxi k.
You may burst a bag by trying to 11 it too
full, and ruin yourself by grasping at too much.