The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1865-08-04
Return Home of the Irish Legion

Return Home of the Irish Legion
An ur,sbma In Search OF his Son.
The Irish Legion, organized two years
ago by the lamented Michael Coroosan'
reached New York on Tuesday OF last
week. and was accorded an enthusiastic
reception. The "Legion " saw the most
desperate service of the war. Leaving
with four thousand stalwart men, it re-
turns decimated of its numbers nearly
ninety per cent. The Legion was suc-
cessiyely commanded by Corcoran, Tyler,
Murphy, Blaisdell, Ramsey, Smyther ana
McIvor. Corcoran died in his tent OF
fall from horse, deprived of the fruits OF
his long and weary labors, just as he was
about to reap the benefit OF eight years
assiduity and perseverance as soldier.
Matthew Murphy, or "Mat Murphy" as
his soldiers were wont to term him, as
mark of their affection, formerly principal
of school in the sixth ward of New York,
encountered his death-wound at Hatchers
hardly-contested fight; his body being
brought to New York, and under the dome
of the City Hall the dead soldier received
the honors due to bis past life and SER
vices. At Farmsville, few days before
the surrender of Lees once magnificent
army, Smyther, the gallant Delawarlan,
who commanded the legion, was killed
while leading his men, and 80 persisted
one of the bravest spirits that ever wore a
sword or put boot in stirrups. Gems. ~
Ter and Ramsey, also commanding the LIE.
gion, were wounded during their term OF
service with that body. Six hundred and
sevsnty-three men out Of four thousand!
comment is useless; defamation and havoc
brings immortality alike to those who have
passed away and to those who survive the
conflict. CATER the cross, then comes
the crown"
AN INCIDENT OF THE RECEPTION.
The Worldin its graphic account of the
reception on Tuesday, gives the following:
An old and feeble man, humbly attired, and
accompanied by bis little granddaughter, lit
tie girl of eight years or thereabouts, stood
leaning against the railing outside of the depot.
His son, gallant young Irishman, had left his
home and motherless child under the protec-
ton of his aged father, in Boston, to assist in
the defence of the national symbol, the stars
and stripes, two years ago, and the old man
had not heard Of the boy of whom he was so
fond, the staff of his declining years, since the
battle of Hatcher's Run. Still supposing that
his boys letters might have been miscarried, he
had come from Boston, long distance for an
old man like him, and had brought with him
his little grandchild to welcome home her faith
er, as he stepped off the train at Jersey city.
Among the crowd of people who were wait
ing for absent friends our couple were not no.
ticed, and the senile old man and the innocent
child were undisturbed by the crowd who
were waiting. Presently the whistle of the
locomotive was heard, and the train dashed into
multitude. The dusty and worn soldiers sprang
out of the cars in dozens, and were welcomed
with loving embraces and warm kisses by their
relatives or friends. The old man, hearing the
shouts and tumult, asked of the little girl,
Molly, darling, do you see Phelin?"
mo, daddy, / can't see him-there's such q
lot of people"
The old man, now thoroughly aroused from
his reverie, hobbled along as we'll as he could
toward the platform where the soldiers
were collected, noisily congratulating each
other, and speaking to the nearest one, asked
him if he knew "Phelin Maginnis. of the til
regiment, and where is he hiding himself that
The soldier did not know Phelin, and was
about to tell him so when another of the group,
with a troubled face stepped forward, 81
knew Phelin McGinnis, and he was as brave a
boy as ever stepped on two feet, begorra-are
you his father ould man, my name is Michael
forward the little girl, who was busily engaged
in sucking her finger ends. but where is
Phelin said he, in an alarmed tone. "Why, II
said the soldier, in cautious manner, "Whin
did ye have q line from Phil. ould man ~
"Sorrow line this four long months, and
came all the way from Boston to surprise the
bye, be jabbers."
swell" said the soldier, Il suppose might
as we'll tell We frsht as lasht. Poor Phil was
sthruck ded as nail at Hatchers Run from q
piece OF shell that thin divis the rebils pitched
across our lines, and here is a lock Of poor
Pills hair. God be merciful to his sowl.
The old man seemed to be sinking through the
hazed and dim, as the soldier unfOlded the sor.
rowful tale, and the little girl, seeing heI
grandfather totter. began to cry in piteous
manner without knowing why. The kind.
hearted soldier carried the old man to seat,
and placing him upon it brought him to his
senses by application OF cold water, the little
girl in the meanwhile clinging to her pro:
tector, and sobbing wildly. When the old
man awoke and began to realize the sense Of
his utter desolation and bereavement, the scene
was terrible. Utterance came slowly, as he
said, IN niver bind knee agin to priest
for there wasn't night nor morning that
didn't cay pather and aye for poor Phil, and
and niver had chance to say God have mer
cy on my SOUL Well, well, wondher whats
the use Of poor ould wretch like me now
and here is poor Mollie. darling, without bit OF
sup, and l am too ould to work-my day ha:
gone BY" To look at the poor old man would
have melted stone, and the soldiers standing
toward paying his way back to Boston. And
this is but one Of thousand little episodes
continually occurring to show the waste of wal
as our boys come marching home.
Proposed Meeting of the President
and Financiers.