Wood River times. [volume] (Hailey, Idaho) 1882-1915, 1886-03-11
MY DARKEY AT GETTYSBURG.
An Incident Of the Late War.

was tue oiackeSt, klnky-
na'red' thick-lipped, lisping negro in
Eastern Virginia. Born on the same
DAY that first broke upon the career
OF the writer (who was his ayoung
mastery, he was given by common
consent to the "pride of his fond pa
rents hopes" Richard was by no
means beautiful, either as child or
man. But he was "my Richard. !"
he ate with the writer, played with
the writer, hunted with him, played
pranks with him, attended him at
school and college, and faithfully fol.
lowed him during four years of war.
lie often "read over" the writer's les
sons for him, and when the awful
next mornings headache Frustrated
the master, Richard, the slave, but
petted friend and profound CONSIDER,
would kindly place the ice cold, wet
ted towel on his throbbing brow, and
decipher and translate the horrid
greek and latin. Therefore, whatever
books the writer knew were equally
familiar to his slave companion and
friend.
AS stated; Richard was with the
writer as servant, yea, as friend and
comrade, from Bull Run to Appomat-
tox, except during such time as the
writer was a prisoner of war; then
"the gentleman of African Descent"
as the soldiers of the regiment used
familiarly and kindly to call him,
would remain with the regiment and
play "boss" of the vacant hcadquar-
tiers tent and baggage, never forget
ting to draw forage and rations--
when there were any to draw-for
his name appeared as ''detail" for
headquarters duty.
Well, Gettysburg was reached.
Our command was with Longstreet's
ln,. Before the first gun opened
the writer received from the General
a statement of the probable part his
command would be assigned to, and
returning to his immediate line sug-
gested to Richard the probability of
''some warm work to morrow" The
negro was brave. He had passed he
roically through all the heavy battles
and sharp skirmishes that Lees old
army to * part in, and he never fall
tered, never failed. Just before Il
most important movement began the
writer was orde red to move his regi.
meEt to certain place and receive,
unanswered and unreplied to, the ar
tillery fire of the enemy, posted
strongly and in great force upon the
ridge, that is now historic. AS the
General gave the order, he reached
toward the writer, and turning away
his face, simply said; "God bless you;
good bye" Richard noted this.
In a few moments we were in line.
Instantly the great cannons belched
forth their shot, she'll and grape,
and one by one, often several at a
time, of our regiment, would be
stricken from his horse, or mangled
with the animal, and sink into the
dust of the wheat-6eld. The fire be
came terrific, and faster and faster
were the men and horses killed or
wounded. After a tremendous burst
of artillery, Richard, ashen- hued, and
with the "whites" of his great popping
eyes prominently visible, silently
moved beside the writer at the right
and head of the suffering line. He
was pitiable to look upon. Not a
muscle quivered; not for time, was
a word spoken. Presently, with half
smothered, lisping voice, he said:
"God Almighty bless my soul, Mars
Doug!Don't you see all dem Y ankee
cannon balls coming over here and
killing our folks?" eyes, Richard, !
see them," was the answer. After a
moments pause, again he spoke:
"Mars Doug, suppose one of dem
Yankee balls was to come
long here and kill me; what would be
done?" "Why, Richard, the boys
would regret your death. They
would bury you in your blanket on
the field, and write your mother how
you fell at your post like a hero"
"Yeth, SIR" he slowly and lispingly
replied.
| r. r,o~apf or two q she'll hurst