Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1884-07-25
In the Army.

come of the boys will remember tho
" we buried Billy Taylor, private, G
ompany, Forty-seventh illinois In
ntry. / remember it, because 1t was
u tirst time I yer marched in a mill
w funeral, and L was only a boy; I
Ejn,t seen my nineteenth year then,
"A + wasn't much taller than the mus
= carried. Billy wasn't killed in
bt,ie. He had passed through a dozen
rbts; every time the Forty-seventh
ant in he was close by the %colors, and
bnt or bullet never touched him, but
T. cod of war demanded more lives
IAN the rifle and annon could pile up
his rocking affairs, and SO death,
carving may be, of the red carnage of
Io field. often came to our tents to Sc
Fct a victim for the sacrifice. So Billy
* excused from duty one day, and
+ about in the tent, and tried to shake
the sickness that came creeping
ker him, and had time to write part Of
letter. and then he planned what he
ould do tomorrow. And the next day
: was excused again, andstayed in his
mix, but it was hard. and he could
(e] the knots in the board under the
hanket, and it made him restless. and
4 thought if he didn't feel better to-
borrow-but he knew he would-hs
(oulu go to the regimental hospital.
nd the neytday he was better; so much
ptter that he was pronounced well, and
is name was stricken from the sick
Il. 1t was also stricken from the COM
anv roll, and he was marked off duty
brewer. Six men were detailedfor pail
carers, q corporal and eight men for
ecort, and following marched the men
pu officers of the company, in The in
erse order of their rank.
Somehow, the sunshine seemed dim
nd misty as the muited drums spoke
pournfully, and our slow steps seemed
! be marked otfby heart breaking sobs
a distant home away up in tie far
wav Northland. The wailing flies
reathed the pathetic strains of "The
and O. the Leal' until the air seemed
lied with tears:
There's nae sorrow there, Jean;
There's neither cauld nor care, Jean,
The day is ever fair
In the land O. the leal.
We could hear the sweet voices of
Tomen. tremulous, grief stricken, in
ht IuUll1l1lAS 1llCSs NOllCu. O1uCC liz
Used mother, sister and sweetheart
bodily in the Prairie State he had not
card a woman's voice syllable his
anne. His last dying looks were bent
pom bronzed, bearded faces; and tho
lind hands that dressed him for the
klneral march were hard, calloused
With toll and war and scented only with
he cartridges they had last handled.
he voice Of q woman would have
oandcd to him like the blessing of
tod, To die, so far away from home;
b die and know that at that moment,
E%norant of his passing, the dearest of
6arth were joyous, singing, laughing,
bavbc; to die and know that the days
WOULD creep on into the weeks, and the
Eecks drag on into months before they.
whose names were quivering on his low
~, praying lips, would know it; to die
ind know they would be still writing
etters to him when his eyes would be
l0sed and the heart that longed and
eSed would be stillcd forever. It is q
aL, sad thing to bury a soldier.
But sorrows sell wears past, Jean.
And joys a-comin' fast, Jenn,
The JOY that S aye to last, Jean,
In the land O. the lcal.
And they-what would be the meas
~ of their sorrow in the stricken
one. His dying kiss, his last good
+ the loving look in the closing eyes.
Ee peace that death would print upon
is face they would never see it, they
you'd never hear it, they could never
NOW it. What wonder our soldier
earts were heavy rs the burden on the
bicr, and our tears were faster than our
neasured steps! And the mournful
runs, in their sad monotone, patter-
hg lie tears upon a coffin lid, sobbed
N like the murmrrous rushing of q
roublcd stream, hushing the shrill grief
the complaining flies, softenlng Their
Fries into the plaintive moaning OF a
orrow that has wept its violence away
MI mourns with the whispers Of the
blaintive night wind.
It Halt" and how softly tho corporal
Foiccd his orders. Crest on-arms!!''
The Chaplain is reading something
bonn the only Book men read at thai
fine:
Il am the Resurrection and the Life
. that bclieveth in Me, though he Were
lead, Yet shall he live. And whatsoever
Pelieveth in Me sL;al never die"
With broken Voice, he prays above
Ple dead, and our hearts echo his prayer
5 they seem to lie in the rude coffin
With our comrade.
Attention! shoulder-arms! Load
t will -tire!!"
How the ringing volleys eel the
rave, making q thousand discordan1
shoes in the woods about us break il
br@ptly and harshly on our grief.
by platoon, right whcel-march
dunn, forward, guide left, quick
larch,'
cheerily the flies sing out the dane
lyg measures of Garry Owen,' mer
Ply rattle the close strung, spirited anc
lspiring drums, with pieces at a ''righ1
houlder' gaily back to the camp we
larched.
What. we have followed the deae
older and stood in tears by his lonely
frave-we have been away from caml
early two thousand the world hasn'
llpped a cog; it hasn't missed q single
eaFt beat; it hasn't stood still q sec
nd The second relief had just gon'
"a when we went out, and there goe'
pc third marching out now.
What are those drums for? Fall in fo