The Hancock Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Ohio) 1857-1870, 1869-05-21

D some who afterwards proiessed t
I have been ardent Unionists durin,
the whole period Of the war, CAREFUL
, drew aside their skirts when the
met her, and with nose uplifted, an,
|, words and gestures of scorn, pro
claimed their hatred and contemp
, of her. Twice was she threatene,
with a summons to the headquarter
of Beauregard for "giving aid an,
comfort to the enemy Sendin:
her outside the rebel lines was twic'
discussed, and only negatived be
cause they feared she knew too much
and because the yellow fever bein;
expected, she was known to be tot
good and fearless a nurse in that ter
rible scourge to be spared.
| But worse than all other trials anC
prosecutions was the death of he
eldest son, who had been her attend
ant and her helper in her hospita
duties. He was boy of rare ma
rurity and judgment, Of sweet ant
patient temper, and OF ardent piety
Early in the war he had received
from some friend present OF {
beautiful Union flag, and as the ex
hibition of it would only excite
malice, he requested his mother to
preserve it for him till the time
should come when it might again
wave over loyal city. lie was q
pupil of the High School of the city,
and was expecting to graduate there
and enter college in the ensuing au-
tumn 1869. Some Of the boys in
the school ascertained that he owned
this flag, and demanded that he
should surrender it to them, to be
trodden and destroyed. He refused
and they declared that if he did not,
they would whip him within an inch
of his life. He told his mother of
the threats, but expressed his deter
mination to suffer the beating, if
need be, but not give up the flag
She encouraged him to endure. but
not to yield. Some two or three
weeks later he came home and sent
for her to come to his room. His
tender flesh had been fearfully LAGER
ated by the cruel blows of the young
ruffians, but he uttered no complaint.
81 could bear this well enough,
mother" he said, "but / cannot
bear that they should use such abu-
sive language about you, as they
do" at does not hurt me, my SON."
was her reply: "our Master was re-
viled more bitterly than we are
You. my son, are not the first suf.
ferer for our national flag; but if
you can help it, please do not let
father know Of this, for he has all he
can bear already" Il will not,
mother" was the brave reply; shut
the boys say they will finish me next
time, il l do not give up the fiag."-I
81 do rot believe they will trouble
you again, my son, but we will take
what measures we can to prevent it."
His vacation was just at hand, and
Mrs. Potter endeavored to prevent
his being brought in contact with
these young Tufiians, who were as
malignant as their fathers. Three
weeks had passed, and her son had
only to go to the High School build |
ing to obtain his diploma, and would
not then be exposed further to their
attacks. But the young villains
were lying in wait for him, and on
the porch of the High School build
ing, one of them called his attention |
to something at distance, when by |
a blow from an unseen hand, he was
felled to the ground, and in an al
most senseless condition he was az |
terward brought home. The brain
was seriously injured, but he was
for time, and with the
near prospect of delirium and
death, he conversed calmly with his
mother If his own hopes, and of the
future trials to which che would be
He bade her not to be
discouraged in laboring for the sol
diers, and predicted, with lofty
faith, the glorious termination of
the struggle. He was asked if he
knew who struck the fatal blow he
replied that he did, but he preferred
not to give his name, and the secret
died with him. Typhoid fever set
in, and after months of suffering, he
died. His mother was, for a while,
overwhelmed by this ter
rible stroke, but she reused herself
up to her work Of mercy, and sum-
all her strength left her sick
bed to minister to the wants of the
Union prisoners. Her ministrations
TO the suffering at this time are re-
by those OF them who re-
covered and were restored to their
homes, with the deepest gratitude.-
Never had she been more faithful in .
ler care for their wants, or more
gentle and tender in her inquiries
alter their spiritual welfare. To
-he diving she spoke words Of COM
fOrt and cheer, and received from ,
hem messages to their friends at
The North, which she transmitted II
with the most careful promptness,
whenever opportunity offered.-l
a great sorrow Jay upon her I
he esrt, she avoided weeping in the ,
presence of the wounded men, lest
she should depress their spirits -
Among the thousands who have been
under her care, there are many who
survive, and to whom her name will
ever be precious for her disinterest-
ed laborsin their behalf. To them
in their wretchedness and gloom she
seemed as an angel of mercy, and
under her cheering words and tender
care, hope revived, and they felt that
they we're not utterly friendless.
Aside from the perils to which
she was exposed by her work for the
soldiers, there were others hard to
bear, but inevitable in her situation.
Their beautiful, but unpretending
home, situated nearly midway be-
tween the two points at which the
fire of the Swamp Angel and the
other large guns of Gilmore's siege
was directed. Ali of their
were injured, and some
of them destroyed by the shells.-I
And, during the twenty months in
which the city was under fire, many
a weary night was spent in watching
the direction OF the shells; and she
and her family we're distressed by
the fear that by some shell striking
their house, they might be mangled
SO as to be unable to aid each other;