The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1880-06-19
The Dear Dead Faces

lIO DOtol DONu OSOe
The war | refer to was not one of
those which we have lately had upon
our own hands, but that which few
years ago ragged so long, so tiercely, be-
tween the Northern and Southern States
of America. 1t was my fortune TO
serve on the medical stat with portion
of the Northern army during most OF
that terribe struggle; and 1T Is needless
to say that many personal incidents
CAME Under my notice, which VIII never
lhave my mem6ry. Not one of them,
however, made SO painful an impression
upon me as that which | am about to
describe.
Toward noon on the LAY after one OF
the fiercest fights of all the war,a young
soldier was brought in from the battle
field, where by some mischance he had
been overlooked and abandoned, while
comrades OF his, far less grievously
wounded than he, had been sheltered
and tended before nightfall, The poor
fellow had lain all night and during the
long scorching hours of the morning
amid heaps of dead both men and horses,
suffering from the loss of an arm, and
other wounds. An army surgeon Is not
as rule tnan prone to undue senti.
ment or to feminine softness at the
sight of physical suffering and am
not conscious of any weakness that
makes the an exception in this particu-
lar. There was, however, in this youths
expression of icountenance something
which struck me irresistibly, ana with
the strong glare of his large, bright eye,
fixed my attention and awakened my
eager interest. lie was slender youth,
tall, yet gracefully made, with head
which, as the novelists phrase it, would
bring ecstacy to TIE soul of a sculptor
| and every feature IiOlded to the true
| type of manly beauty. A single glance
gave me this summary outline of my
patient before l had time to ascertain
the nature or extent of his injuries. A
very brief examination soon told me
that the life which for hours had been
ebbing so painfully away was well nigh
spent, and he must have Iead the aw-
fu truth in my face, for he whispered
TO me family and eadly, as rose {:
"1s there, thin, no hope z"
Alas ! there was no hope but had
not speech to tell him SC; for something
was rising in my throat and choking
me, and q moisture in my eyes was
binding ltie; and the only reply | conld
give him was u shake my head. The
brave spirit which had nerved him
through the fight had kept him up till
now but now, whet the dismal truth
had broken upon him, there passed ever
his pallid face a look of mingled disap-
poihtment and resignation which 1t was
painful beyond expression to witness.
lost nj time in giving him such surgical
aid as his desperate condition called for
and his waniug strength could bear. l
had hardly done so when an unexpected
voice addressed him :
"My owl dear boy my brave, heroic
boy I"
TIE tone was of CHEEKY encourage
ment, yet feeoly Disgusting the woe of
breaking heart; for it vas his moth
er's voice that spoke aud her lips that
kissed his feyered brow. Gently she
turned back his disOrlefcd and blood
stained locks, dissemblitig with evident
EFFORT the mothers anguish, lest another
sorrow should be added to the pangs of
his dying hour. . .. ..... ..
"My mother i'' he cried, with almost
frantlc delight. as it you, my mother?
How came you here ? Is it you, or am
] Dreaming And as he spoke he threw
his only remaining arm around her neck
and Kissed her with all the rapture of
child. Thank God !" he continued,
in snatehes, as his failing strength al
lowed him-"thanB God for tliis blessed
Joy, that see your face once more, my
mother. All last night, as l lay amid
the dreadful sights around me, prayed
the prayer in all my pain, aud only one.
prayed that might look once more
upon your face, my sweetest T0other,
once more hear your voice. | seemed to
pray in vain, yet sti'l j prayed.
"My poor, poor boy" she said, ga
curse upon the hand that has brought
YOU to this - and the tears at length
broke from the mothers control.
To the amazement of all, there APP
peared to be something in this eXelama-
| ton of his mother that stimulated the
dying youth to dnal effort OF speech
and motion. He half raised himself
from his bed, aud with that unaccOunt-
able energy that sometimes marks the
closing moments of life, he said
"No, mol don't say that Don't say
accursed. You know not he words you
are speaking. Oil" he cried, after
moments pause, chow shall | tell her
the horrible tale? How can smite her
down with such blow, at such an
hour?" aud he fell back, exhausted, on
his pillow. The effort had been too
much for HIN, and for some moments
we dohbted If the spirit had not fed
! II wds only passing weakness, how
ever, and before long he rallied again
/ Again he spoke, but with n kind Of
I dreamy half-eoBsciOushess, at one mo.
ment gazing into his mothers eyes, at
another seemingly forgetful Of her pres
ence, ...
Truly, Il was a bloody hel " said
he. 81 had been 10 several hard fought
[ fights before, but they we're all ehildren's
pastime compared with that OF yester-
day. No sooner had we come in sight
Of the enemy than the ringing voice OF
the General was heard:
"At them, my boys, and do your
duty!"
I "What happened after that know
not. Khow not. do say? Oh, would
il we're true that l knew notl Begrimed
with dust. each man was confronted
with his owninhigidual foe. and II there
be fighting among tends, then surely
did our lighting resemble theirs. l was