The Burlington weekly hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington [Iowa]) 1860-1876, 1863-07-18

APPEARANCE OF THE DEAD.-A Vicks
burg correspondent thus moralizes over
the scenes of battle field. The picture is
taken after the charge on the 22d June:
They lay in all positions; some with
musket grasped as though still contending
others with the cartridge in the fingers just
ready TO put the deadly charge where il
might meet the foe. All ferocity had gone.
Noble patriots! uninhabited tenements'
we rest here now in security! Your portals
whence the spirits fled are as calm and
pale as moonlight upon snow-as though
no sweet love had ever woven for we mgr
tie wreaths nor death draped your hearts
in ivy-as though mirth had never smiled
nor sorrow wept where all is now SILENT
War with its dangers, earth with its per-
plexities, neglect and poverty with their
pangs, Islander with its barb, the dear
heart-broken ones at home-all fail to call
We back to strife. A dark and fearful shad-
ow has crept over the land and gathered We
in its gloom. o, the tears that will be shed!
0, the hearths that will be desolated!-
Eyes will look in vain for your return TO
the hearths that We once gladdened, Whlle
Fame crowns We with its laureis, ana the
land of the hereafter welcomes we as "they
who saved the land
A remarkably sweet and youthful face
and as fair as maiden, with quite small
hands; long hair of the pale golden hue
that auburn changes to when much in the
sun, and curling at the ends. He had on
shirt of coarse white cotton, and brown
pants well worn; while upon his feet were
a woman's shoes of aboutthe size known as
''fours.'' Too delicate was his frame for
war, perchance some mothers idol. His
left side was torn by shell, and his left
shoulder shattered. Poor misguided boy!
Haycinth was scarce more delicately beau
tiful than he. Mayhap he had his Apollo
too.
Two men who had caught at fig tree to
assist them up steep embankment lay
dead at its feet, slain in all probability by
an enfilade fire from their right; the branch
at which they caught was still in their
grasp. Some could not be recognized by
their dearest friends. Several were head
less-others were armless. but the manner
of their death was always plain. The
mimic left its large rather clear hole; the
shell it's horrid rent; the shrapnel and
grape their clear, great gashes, as though
one had thrust giants spear through the
tender, quivering flesh.
In one trench la two, grasping the same
weapon-friend and foe. Across their
hands fell a vine, the end upon the breast
of the rebel, where it had fallen with them
from an elevation above: the roots still
damp with the fresh earth; upon it was a
beautiful passion flower in full bloom and
two buds; the buds were stained with blood
the flower as bright as was the day when
the morning stars sang together. On the
faces of both was the calm that follows
sleep-rather pale, perhaps, but seeming
like him of old, of whom it was said, "He
is not dead, but sleepeth." But ah, the
crimson! All is not we'll where earth is
stained with blood. In some places the
dead were piled, literally, like sacks of
grain upon the shore.
1t is remarkable with what patience the
fatally wounded, they who already stood
knew that they could not recover, but bore
it manfully. Sometimes tear, and low
voice would say, "My sweet wife," or
Darling" Mother "God forgive'-a
culver, then all was over. Let us hope that
friend and foe alike found favor in HIS
sight, where all is well.
Death is lies mystery-that undiscov-
place so great and marvellous study as
here.
One would think that war would develop
terocity in hard natures; perhaps it does;
but it is not shown in the faces Of the dead.
They enter the silent land with ewes open;
a stare of surprise is in them; the lines OF
care are sOftened upon the brow, and the
cheek, when uniform, shows determination,
as though they slept where doubt is I'M
known, where all mystery is revealed;
where the reason of our creation, to bear
the myrtle leaf of joy or the habiliments of
mourning, to reap the golden sheaves of
content or gather the mildew Of misery, is
unknown.
They have been sent, rather than gone,
to the garner where all shall be gathered.
This is the work of treason! This it is to
unroof the temple of law and order, and
let loose the demon of discord. A people
more than prosperous have fallen upon
evil times. Murder, arson, theft, all kinds
of injustice, follow in the footsteps Of war.
Nor is the end yet. When shall spears
and swords be beaten into plow-s shares and
pruning hooks? How long, o Lord?"