Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-01-12
WHO WAS SHE {?
IA War Sketch by w. S. Walton editor of til
WahashaW Herald

IA War Sketch by W. S. Walton, editor of the
Wabashaw Herald.
Some winters ago l made short sojourn
in certain Southern city. I there became
intimate with one of your 'true sons of the
soil to the manor born At the first clash
of steel, in tho late ''unpleasantness," he cut
college and threw himself into the strife
with an abandon that speedily ranked him
high in one of the most dashing bodies of
cavalry that ever drew sabre for the 'Lost
Cause.-The gallant Eth, of Virginia.
AS we had ''done,' not only the same war,
but the same battles on opposite sides, our
fund of conversation proved as exhaustless as
army OF Virginia and the army of the Poto-
mac had fought their Fair Oaks, Malvern
Hill, fredericksburg and the Wilderness
over again, with many an "Here we stoodn'
-"There was hit "Right here we charged
your guns ''Over there you moved us
down. Through that wood we drove yod
like the wind,' and much more of the same
sort, it suddenly occurred to me to press
upon him this question:
SIN all your experience as soldier, is
there any one thing or incident that i'm
pressed itself so deeply upon you as to con-
stitute it emphatically the memory, the re-
collection OF the warp
He was silent for some moments, and
then, with far away look in his eyes, an
swered slowly:
''There is a certain little incident that
rises somewhat to the dignity of which you
speak. At least it made an impression upon
me that time, so far from erasing, has
scarcely dimmel. it still haunts my dreams
by night, and sets me dreaming by day. 1t
is a memory that | shall carry with me to
the grave, and beyond for aught I know"
And with the words he again fell into muse,
while pictured some foriorn hope, or des-
perate charge, or hand-to-hand fight with
thrice his number, or some horror of the
battlefield or prison pen, until, too curious
to humOr him longer, l aroused him with
''Well and what is it all about?"
"a face.' was the simple reply.
"Oh,'' said I, rather sarcastically, "a face!
Maiden's, of course-per So, love story. [
see it all-town captured-fair lady insulted
by brutal soldiery-gallant officer to the res
cue-otiicer surrenders at discretion-com-
mand moves on and only a memory left.
You have my sympathy"
"You shoot at random, sir, and as usual'
with smile-''come wide of the mark.
But not to keep you in suspense, my sketch
Is at our service:
''You will remember that the day before
Malvern Hill we had bloody engagement
on the borders of White Oak Swamp, which
same has gone into history as the battle of
Nelson's or Frazier's farm. Well, my battal-
ion, by making kind of daredevil charge
on your rear guard brought on that fight,
which, as you recollect, lasted late into the
night, and ended by your side retreating to
Malvern Hill and leaving the battlefield in
in our possession. The next morning, feel
ing desire to look over the ground of the
brilliant dash referred to, invited a friend
to accompany me, and we rode forth. Our
course led over the larger part of the battle
field, thick strewn with the harvest of such
fell encounters. With curious or plying
eye We Sazed on the dead faces of the no
longer hostile blue and gray, until sick of
horrors, We tried to avoid these evidences of
our brotherly appeal to arms. In doing
this we turned aside into bit of woodland,
that seemed to have escaped the rage
of the war demon. still recall this
little wood as one of the prettiest that
ever rejoiced in the fullness of its summer
beauty. This bright, early morning it fairly
challenged us to admire it's full-leaved trees
and it's carpet of dark green turf, gemmed
with flowers and sparkling with dew drops,
and here and there golden with little patches
of sunlight, that streaming through the tree
tops to the delight of the birds, was received
with hum of welcome by the bees in the
fowe1ets below. The quiet, purity and holy
peace that brooded over the spot were in
such direct contrast with the violence and
strife lately experienced, that we could not
but be moved by the inspiring influences of
the scene. While drinking in a long draught
of this beauty Of trees and flowers, and twit-
tering of birds and humming of bees, IL
caught, some distance ahead of us, an indis-
t1nct view of dead body. With half
muttered curse at the persistency of Death
in thrusting his hated form everywhere, I
was about to turn aside to avoid it, when a
little nearer view caused me instinctively OF
check luy horse and cry out to my compan-
ion:
''My God! Major, look therer'
By the side of a spring of water, that bub-
bled from the very roots of an aged tree, in
position of exceeding gracefulness, lay the
body Of soldier unquestionably soldier,
full-clad in q neat trim uniform of blue
AS we looked, single ray of sunshine
piercing the branches overhead, lit up as
with halo Of light the face and the breast,
over which small white hands were loosely
crossed with blended beauty and resgna-
haps, III Murrillo's Madonna of the Concep-
ton. My first thought was, s'Ihere lies
some mothers darling, the pet of the fatni-
ly," but closer. look at the delicate featuret
moved me with conviction that could nos
repress, and l exclaimed with earnestness:
"By my life, that face is too beautiful to
be man OF bOy's-it is q woman'sn'
I fear that life on the frontier, and hand
in the Kansas troubles, had blunted the SEN
sibilities OF my comrade for he responded
to my exclamation with contemptuous:
"Nonsense! Any one would know that you
we're some romantic young chap just out of
college. Come along or the regiment will
move before we RETURN
He moved on, and T. through fear of his
raillery, followed reluctantly. We rode some
little distance, but that face was the one
thing in my mind, and, becoming assured
that would ever regret it if left the mat,
ter thus, stopped and said
Laugh OF not, believe am right about
that soldier boy by the spring. At any
rate, am going back, though you can re-
turn to camp if you choose :"
With ''very well'' he turned towards
camp, and I galloped back to my mystery
of the wood. Dismount1ng, knelt by the
body. I Embossed the clothing about the
neck ana not only found Where the rata
bullet had entered but had my surmise as tc
her sex fully verified. Long and earnestly
scanned the countenance, as if there I would
grasp the secret of her life, nature, fate II
was certainly young, but hardly girlisE
face. It had the fairness of girlhood, but
as with sculptor's fingers, the soul had i'm
bued it with something OF that tender, ear
nest, yearning expression that comes only
with years and to the natures that can ano
have deeply felt. Could the eye-lids have
Opened as in life / am sure that I shnnlG