ANECDOTE OF GEN. WYMAN.

A correspondent accompanying the Union forces in their march from Jefferson City to Rolla, Mo., in 1861, relates the following: “After leaving camp at Union Hollow, a rugged part of the mountains beyond Springfield, an incident occurred worthy of preservation. Gen. Wyman had issued orders that no man should go in advance of his company. About five miles from camp the General met two of the boys of the Illinois Thirteenth, waiting the approach of their company. Those who know the General, know, when he does not like anything, how roughly he can reprimand a soldier. The General addressed the boys in one of his very roughest styles:

“‘Boys, why ——- are you in advance of your company this morning?’

“One of the men, taking off his hat, addressed the General in the following style:

“‘General, about two and a half miles from here are the graves of my mother and sisters, and I thought it was likely this was the last time I should be permitted to visit them, and I got permission of the Captain to go this morning to visit them, and I am here waiting for them to come up.’

“This was too much for the General. Said he, ‘My boy, that was right. I have always loved you, but that makes me love you twice as well as I ever did.’ At this point, tears choked the words of the noble soldier, and one might have seen one whole-souled man weeping under the effects of paternal affection. Some time after this, they joined our staff, and rode with us, and while riding with me, he narrated to me the incident, and again gave vent to tears. Said he, ‘I am not ashamed of tears under such circumstances.'”

Originally posted 2008-11-24 03:41:03.

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THE WOUNDED SOLDIER.

The following beautiful and touching lines were written by Lieut. John McKee, of company K. 74th Ohio regiment, who was accidentally drowned at Cincinnati, on his way home:

AMONG the pines that overlook
Stone River’s rocky bed,
Ohio knows full many a son
There numbered with the dead.

‘Tis hard to die ‘mid scenes of strife,
No friend or kindred near,
To wipe the death damp from the brow,
Or shed affection’s tear.

To soothe the sufferer, in his pain,
With words of holy cheer,
Or bend the knee, in earnest prayer,
For the dying volunteer.

That day, when all along our lines
Rained showers of shot and shell,
Thus many a brave young soldier died–
Thus many a hero fell.

When night closed o’er this bloody scene,
Returning o’er the ground,
I heard the piteous moans of one
Laid low by mortal wound.

‘Twas by the ford we crossed that day–
The ground so dearly bought–
Where Miller led his stalwart men,
And gallant Moody fought.

The wounded soldier’s cheek was wan,
And beamless was his eye;
I knew before another morn
The wounded man must die.

I built a fire of cedar rails,–
The air was cold and damp,
And filled his canteen from the spring,
Below the river’s bank.

And then I sat me down to ask
If he would wish to sent
A last request or parting word
To mother, sister, friend.

“I have some word,” the boy replied,
“My friends would love to hear;
T’would fill my sister’s soul with joy,
My mother’s heart would cheer.

Tell them I died a soldier’s death,
Upon the battle-field,
But lived to know the day was ours,
And see the rebels yield;–

“That ere I died their colors fell,
Their columns broke, and then
I heard the wild, victorious shouts
Of Negley’s valiant men.

‘But most of all I’d have them know
That with my latest breath
I spoke of Him I loved in life;
‘Twas joy and peace in death.

‘Tell sister I have read with care–
For holy ties endeared–
The Bible mother gave to me
Before I volunteered.

“I’m very tired with talking now;
Please raise my head some higher,
And fold my blanket closely down,
And build a larger fire.

“The air is very cold to-night.”
I raised his head with care;
He closed his eyes as if to sleep,
But clasped his hands in prayer.

In silent converse with his God
The wounded hero lay;
It seemed to him communion sweet,
No agony to pray.

He smiled as does the gentle child
When angels whisper near;
No anguish worked upon his brow,
Nor blanched his cheek with fear.

I saw that death was coming fast;
His mind was all in prayer;
I asked him for his regiment,
And where his comrades were.

“My Captain’s dead,” the boy replied,
In accents low and mild;
“I’ve heard my mother speak of him
When I was but a child.”

I know his mind was wandering,
That he was thinking then
Of him who gave his life to save
His faithful, valiant men.

And thus he died that stormy night,
No friend or kindred near
To wipe the death damp from his brow,
Or shed affection’s tear.

Thus I have known the love of God
Joy, peace, and comfort yield
To one who fell with mortal wound
On the bloody battle-field.

And should you wander o’er the ground
Where fell so many brave,
Among the cedars on the hill
There lied his lonely grave.

The flowers will soon light up with smiles
Stone River’s rocky shore;
His spirit knows a brighter clime,
Where flowers bloom evermore.

And mild-eyed Peace may visit soon
Stone River’s rocky shore,
But Murfrees’ chiming Sabbath bells
Will never wake him more.

Originally posted 2008-11-23 14:20:10.

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CAPT. GILLINGHAM’S ADVENTURE.–

On
the 23d of August, 1863, Captain Ned Gillingham, of the Thirteenth New
York cavalry, with an escort of eight Sergeants, whilst going from
camp, near Centreville, as bearer of despatches to Washington, was met
on the road near Allandale, abot two o’clock P. M., by a detachment of
the Second Massachusetts cavalry, the Sergeant of the latter asking
Capt. Gillingham if they need apprehend any danger; to which Capt.
Gillingham replied: “So rar, we have not met with any obstruction.”
Capt. Gillingham had scarcely gone over four hundred yards, when he was
met by a party of Mosby’s cavalry, consisting of about one hundred men,
by whom he was ordered, under fire, to halt. Capt. Gillingham, taking
them for our own troops, (as they were dressed similarly to his own
men) replied: “Hold up firing00you are fools00you are firing on
Government troops;” to which the Captain of the troops replied:
“Surrender there, you Yankee—–.” Capt. Gillingham replied he could
not see the joke. Then, turning to Sergeant Long, Orderly of company B,
and to Sergeant Burnham, ordered them to draw their sabres and follow
him. A general conflict ensued, in which sabres and pistols were freely
used, resulting inthe wounding of Orderly Sergeant Long and Sergeant
Zeagle, both of company B, who, with four other Sergeants, were all
taken prisoners. Capt. Ned Gillingham and Serg. Burnham effected their
escape, the former having been wounded in the arm, and the latter in
the hip, as well as hiving their horses shot. Obtaining horses on the
road, they reached Washington about six o’clock P. M.

Originally posted 2008-11-23 04:07:01.

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A GALLANT LIEUTENANT.–

During the battle near Spottsylvania Court-House, Va., on the 14th of May, 1864, Maj.-Gen. Wright’s brigade was ordered to charge the Union works. In doing so, the Third Georgia regiment passed through a heavy fire of minie balls, losing seventy-eight men in killed and wounded. The color-bearer of the regiment, being wounded, planted the colors in the ground, and retired to the rear. At this moment the skirmish line was ordered to halt, which was understood by many as an order for the regiment to halt, which they did. Perceiving that a crisis was at hand, Lieut. R. G. Hyman sprang forward, seized the colors from amid a pile of slain, and waving them in the face of the foe, called upon the old Third to rally to it, which they did, with a yell, and the Yankee breastworks were taken. Lieut. Hyman was at least fifty yards in advance of the regiment all the time.–Folsom’s Georgia Record.

Originally posted 2008-11-21 18:00:13.

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