Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1869-09-15

night. So [ told him 1 was going to wrlte
to his folks, and wanted to know if l should
tell them how sick he was. My throat filled
SO ! could not talk very well to him, and
when he saw tears coming in my eyes he
looked at me in a sort of dull wonder. He
did not know how much Company L would
mourn for him, for he was liked by all the
boys because of his courage and manly spirit
At four O'Clock the relief guard care, and
we returned to the fort. 7 wrote home to
his folks Just as quick as the guard was dis
missed, 80 the letter went in the six o'clock
steamboat.
l went over to the hospital about eight TO
see him again, but the nurse had given him
some morphine the doctor had left. He told
me that undoubtedly Sammy would die before
morning. After taps l could not get in to
the fort, so l had to hurry. The next mcrn-
ing one of Company & boys, who was on the
guard, brought us word that Sammy was
dead.
There was not one in the company the
boys would have missed more. All day there
was a hush in the company streets and every
one seemed sad. Even Pete Whipple, a big
fellow that used to be a fighting canal-driver'
and up to almost anything now, had his
heart touched by Sammy's death, and was
one OF the saddest among US.
That afternoon we were to bury him.
Having been on guard that day before. the
rule was that / could be put on no heavier
duty than fatigue. so when the Captain told
the sergeant to send a corporal with a corps
Of men to dig the grave, he detailed me- SO
/ went out quite a distance from the fort, and
found a smooth spot under a large mulberry
tree, and told the boys we would dig the
grave there.
They had no heart to work, especially
Bill Kingsley, for at home he had lived just
below where Sammy did. As | once in
awhile took one of the spades and rested the
boys,I found how hard it was to dig the grave
far away from his friends. And I could not
help crying, as | stood down in the grave
when we had it almost done, and saw where
we must lay the body of our comrade.
When we went to bury him all the com
pany turned out with their side arms on, ex-
eept a corporal and eight men who had their
guns loaded with blank cartridges TO fire over
the grave. That was the way we buried
them when we could.
The chaplain was dowl to the General
Hospital at Fortress Monroe, so there was no
one to attend the burial exercises. The cap
tain was not a pious man, but happened TO
nave the ritual of the Episcopal Church with
him as he attended that one at homeland
he read a part of the burial service over the
body.
1t seemed so solemn to bury him there.
The day was pleasant, and the bay was
smooth as glass. Not a leaf on the beautiful
mulberry trees stirred in the air. Some lit
tie birds sang their sweet songs in the
branches and | wondered if the angels notes
were more sweet and holy. 1t seemed a fit
place to bury the soldier boy there, in so
quiet a nook, if there was a fitting place
away from his friends at home.
The captain, as If in response to n felt pro-
priety in the hearts of all. that sons one
who knew Sammy at home should offer pray
er above his grave, asked me to do 50. And |
have no doubt new resolves were made that
hour to lead better lives, and old resolves re
newed.
After the customary firing three tim e,
they filled up the grave, shutting out from
sight the dust of our comrade. When it
was done, each one broke twigs from some
cedars growing there and threw them on the
mound. As we slowly filed across the plain
to the post thinking of the boy We had part
cd from, and wondering how his father and
mother would bear his death, we said we did
not know who would be taken next.