Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1890-04-24
CAMPFIRE STORIES.
WOUNDED UNTO DEATH.
Studies Made on the BattIe-Fields Of tn
Civil War.

At Groveton, where the gallant Phil
Kearney was killed as we were trying
| to keep Jackson back, l was struck in
the right leg by bullet which scraped
the bone. Had l been in health and
vigor could have crawled away off the
field of battle, but had been out of the
hospital only few days and really had
no business in the ranks. got out a
bandage and checked the flow of blood
as we'll as could, and then got into the
most comfortable position to wait the
turn of events. The knowledge that my
wound was not fatal one, and the be-
| lief that would not even lose my leg,
kept me in pretty good spirits, and 1
saw and heard all that went on around
me.
Near by were three men who were
MORALLY wounded. The one at my feet
was a strong and robust man and had
his left hip shattered by piece of shell.
He had been unconscious from the shock
for long time, but when he came to he
! began to swear in the most vigorous
manner. He had a wife and children at
home, but he did not seem to give them
a thought. He swore at his wound, at
the enemy, at the battery behind us, at
himself for enlisting, and at me when l
asked if l could help him. He died
while indulging in strain of profanity,
and he had scarcely fallen back when
one of the others reused up and went
through the same proceeding and died
exactly the same way.
When Joe Hooker flung us at the ter
rible stone wall at the foot of Mayre's
Hill in the streets of Fredericksburg
had my cap knocked off by bullet.
Then a second struck my musket, and
third tore the cloth on my left Shout
der. knew l should be hit, but did
not feel the bullet which plOwed into
my right shoulder. The first / knew
began to grow dizzy, and all at once 1
sank down in q heap. l am sure faint
ed away, for things had changed when l
once more opened my eyes. Our lines
had been driven back. and the Confeder-
ates were cheering. The first thing was
to reach for my canteen, which was for
tunately full of water The next was
to feel for bandage and stuff the soft
cloth into the wound as well as | could.
Dead and dying men were lying all
about me, and here saw two different
! phases of human nature under suffering.
A young man who lay on the broad of
his back close to me, and who had been
shot in the stomach, swore like pirate
for about five minutes before he died.
Another soldier, who was older and a
| far heavier man, sat up at my right
hand. A piece of she'll had struck him
in the side. Instead of swearing he fell
to weeping. He hadn't a word about
home or friends, but muttered that it
wasn't fair to shoot him down that way,
and that he was always in bad luck, and
there were tears on his cheeks when he
breathed his last.
| 1t touches the heart to read of a burial
party finding a dead soldier with his
Bible or some loved ones photograph in
his hand, but | never came across any
thing of the sort. / helped bury the
dead on thirteen different fields of bat
tie, but never found any thing of the
sort. A man wounded unto death will
either swear or cry. Where he does
neither he will crawl away by himself
|
thinks of no ons can tell, but / have
found plenty of them who evidently
lived for an hour after being hit, and
who had Bibles or photographs with
them and could have got them out but
did not.
have always believed that the man
who was mortally wounded and had only
a short time to live fully realized the
situation. Their actions always proved
it in pitiful way. l knew three broth
ers to be mortally wounded by the same
shell at Antietam. They were very
affectionate towards each other, so much
so that it was a subject of remark. The
sentimentalist would picture them dy-
ing in each others arms and bidding
each other goodbye, but this was far
from the case. One of them, as a wound
ed man told me, swore in an awful way,
a second wept, while the third kept his
peace. Each crept away in different
direction to die, and there was distance
of a hundred feet between their dead
bodies when we found them.
In assisting to bury the dead at Get
| tysburg, our party came across soldier
from New York regiment whose dead
face was almost laughing. He had been
wounded in the breast, and could not
have lived over fifteen minutes. He
must have suffered terribly while dying,
but at the last moment the pain left
| him and he was free. This was no doubt
what brought the smile to his face-a
smile of rejoicing and relief. After the
| fight at Williamsburg we found sol
der who had died from shot in the
groin. He had taken thirty dollars from
his pocket and placed it under his body,
torn up two letters, and had spread
handkerchief over his face, and passed
away so quietly that his countenance
betrayed none of the pain which must
have been his.
At Winchester, as the COnfederates
were driven back across the Berryville
Pike and through the town, portion of
them made a stand in a graveyard. /
helped to collect and bury their bodies.
One of them had been shot through the
right lung, and he fell across the grave
of a woman who had been buried years
before. Her tombstone was time-stained
and rusty, and he dipped his finger in
his blood and traced the initials m. p.
o." on the inside surface of the stone.
Then, as if frightened at the prospect of
dying on a grave, he dragged himself
over the grass to vacant lot and
breathed his last under tree. The dis
lance was fully fifty feet, and lie left
bloody trail 10 mark his way. Another
dead Confederate in the same inclosure,
who had been shot in the side, walked
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