The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1864-05-05
NUMBER 48.
One of Many.

1t was a right pleasant home, with all sur
roundings, to which, that August day, this
brief announcement brought grief and desc
lation-a home made luminous by love, mu-
steal by the prattle of sweet -tongued children,
holy by the voice of daily prayer--a home
where bright eyes looked lovingly into life's
depths of joy and hope and brave hands
performed with cheerful industry life's daily
work. Vines chung tenderly around the low
windows; fiowers-scaret, pink and gold
| fringed the pleasant walks; and all day long
from the poplars at the door, birds sung their
iocund airs in the drowsy ear of summer,
dreaming amidst the glories of her own
nursing.
But it was dark now; there were shadows
on the faces that had been bright all sum
mer through, and there were sobs and sad,
wailing through the prayers of the stricken
mother, of the fold, kneeIing with the dear
wondering ones around her.
II am dying, comrade." The voice was
| faint ana had moan in in it. 81 am dy-
ing; put your hand here OH my heart See |!
it has almost ceased to beat. Dying, dying J"
Over the hills and along the valleys the
battle rolled with noisy grandeur. Through
the thick smoke great flashes of light burst
now and then like sudden sunrisiDgs. But
the ear of the soldier, lying there on the edge
of the flaming field, was closed to the battles
tumult. In his ears softer voices were breath
ing; on his eyes a sweeter than battle glory
was shining shining from far.off New Hamp-
shire hills. where the sun was lying like a
benedicton.
Lift me up a little" the weak voice said ;
CSC" and the pale face frightened up for a
moment with an expression of relief Then
81 have home, comrade, in dear New
Hampshire, and wife and three little ones
are waiting for me there. l had hoped to
go to them in little while--my time wod
heve been out in September. | have dream
ed many a night, lying under the stars, Of
walking up the village street, and finding
Tom, and Kate, and Susy, waiting for me
at the gate their little faces all ahame with
| Joy Sometimes | have seemed to hear them
praying for me, comrade, praying with their
little hands on their mothers knees; and
the dark hours have all been made bright by
that thought, the sight of that picture in my
heart But all that is over now. shall
never sit again in my great chair at the
tables head, nor lie with my children round
me on the grass-plat, nor under the poplars,
at the door.
| A spasm checked his speech for minute
His heart is bleeding as well as as the wound
in his side Presently, as if God were hold
ing up to him the past he went on, dream
lily:
81 remember we'll, comrade, the day when
Jenny and were married. 1t was in the
old church on the village green-you will
see it if yon go there, with graveyard full
of weather beaten tombstones behind it =
| June was blowing her sweet breath iii at the
windows, and filling all the place with de
licious balm; friends and neighbors stood
around the white-haired old minister-he
had christened us both when it was still
GUNNER with him-with happy face knit
us together; and then with benediction
resting upon our heads-I remember it as il
but yesterday-we walked homeward, O how
ioyously along the narrow by-path, under
the apple trees, whose boughs seemed to
whisper blessings on as us we went. Then,
| remember, | took Jenny TO my own little
home, Just on the village border, and we be-
gun lifes work together. summer in our
hearts, summer overhead, summer under our
feet Then, after a while, comrade, boy
came to us-a boy with his mothers eyes
a new song was put into our mouths. Low
like vineyard, purpling with luscious fruits
life seemed to us then! How we watched
and loved our boy! How our hearts opened
to receive his sisters when they came, seem
| ing to know he was yearning for playmates
We used to think, Jenny and |, as we look
ed into the faces of our darlings, that God
must have missed three Of his brightest ones
after these our babes had wandered down tc
| our home"
The soldier paused again, tears on his
| cheek, his voice tremulous. Then, 'tPut
your arm under Inc; comrade," he said. Il
will soon be done. Our little ones grew up
around us; we had to work harder, for Their
salzes. than before, but content lightened all
our toll we would have given our lives for
them. If you have flock at home, com
rade you know what that feeling was. Well
we were happy, never dreaming OF gong
apart, when, suddenly-you remember it
the old flag was assailed, and cry came tol
help for men to defend the life of the nation
NV grandfather, comrade, was with Wash
ington at Trenton and Yorktown; have at
home a sword he wore in those old days, and
my blood leaped at that call. But for day,
a week, | resisted my own heart; could
not go, [ thought and leave my home, my
my wife, my little ones, SO dear, so more
than precious. But then, what was home
worth, without flag to cover 1T What
would become of my dear ones If chaos Gamer
if we could not walk the streets, and lie
down at night with the confidence, the con
ISOLATION, that we had a country, govern
ment, law stronger than any mob, greater
than the maddest fury Of rebellion? cod
not hold out against these tho'ts, comradc !;
so at last told Jenny all that was i'll my
heart and sire, God bless her brave soul !!
said, firmly but with tears Go, john
the Father will care for us; the country
needs YOU COZ and so, conrade-you are
listening ?--I kissed my little ones, and with
Jenny's blessing, | left my home, everything,
and nova sob fingered round each word
Il am here, dying"
'But, he added rallying, ''don't tell them
Sergeant, that murmured or feared to die.
o, no; cannot but think of grief and sor-
row for them, bat the old flag is worth ten
thousand such poor lives as mine; it is glo-
rious to die where its stars are shining; yet. y
and the voice broke again, 81 will be missed
in the home far away, and the days will be
dark because | am so long in coming. But
comrade, bid them bear up; tell Jenny tC
teach my boy never to despair of the Repub
: lie; never to be false to it for one hour =
never to strike hands with any man who
falters now And bark, comrade, tell hel
to kiss my darlings night and morning fol
me: | shall see her, and think, maybe, my
lips are pressing theirs, from the celestia
Lookout my feet are climbing now"
A cheer from the hill where the battle
ragged huttered down the slope to the soldier
r dying
''Victory!" the pale lips cried; the weak
hands clutched for the ground, the feet were
nervous a moment as if he would once more
stand erect and salute the flag victorious
, now; then deeper shadow fell on the face
: the voice murmnred, ''Comrade, remember!'
! the limbs grew rigid, and John Castor, pri-
a vate, was dead.
And the shadow that only the eye of faith
: can penetrate and find clear sky beyond, was
- 81. +he hnnnn a1nnncc the Gra1lite Hills