The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1891-06-26
AN INCIDENT OF WAR.
BY AN ENGLIsHMAN.

The war which refer to was not one
of those which we have lately had upon
cur hands, but that which a few years
ago ragged so long, so fiercely, between
the Northern and Southern States of
America. 1t was my fortune to serve on
the medical staff with portion of the
Northern army during most of that ter
Kible struggle; and it is needless to say
that many personal incidents came under
my notice, which will never leave my
memory. Not one of them, however,
made so painful an impression upon me
as that which am about to describe.
Towards noon on the day after one of
the fiercest battles of the war, a young sol
dier was brought in from the battle field,
where by some mischance he had been
overlooked and abandoned, while COM
rades 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 scorch-
ing hours of the morning, amid heaps of
dead, both men and horses, suffering
tI1t lOoS vi all anu OllltT
wounds. An army surgeon is not as
rule man prone to undue sentiment or
to feminine softness at the sight of phys.
ical suffering; am not conscious of any
weakness that makes me an exception in
this particular. There was, however, in
this youths expression of countenance
something which struck me irresistibly,
and with the strong glance of his large
bright eye, fixed my attention and awak.
ened my eager interest. He was slen-
der youth, tall, yet gracefully made, with
q head which, as the novelist phrases it,
would bring ecstasy to the soul of sculp.
tor; and every feature nodded to the
true type of manly beauty. A single
glance gave me this summary outline of
my patient before 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
20 painfully away, was well nigh spent
and he must have read the awful truth in
my face, for he whispered to me family
end said as l rose: as there, then, no
hope?"
Alas! there was no hope; but l had
not speech to tell him so; for something
was rising into my throat and choking
me, and a moisture in my eyes was
binding me; and the only reply could
give him was shake of my head. The
brave spirit which had nerved him
through the fight had kept him up till
now; but now, when the dismal truth
had broken upon him, there passed over
his pallid face look of mingled disap-
pointment and resignation which it was
painful beyond expression to witness. I
lost no time in giving him such surgical
aid as his desperate condition called for
and his waning strength could bear. l
had hardly done so when an unexpected
voice addressed him: my own dear boy!
my brave heroic boy!" The tone was Of
guising the woe of breaking heart for
it was his mothers voice that spoke, and
her lips that kissed his fevered brow.
Gently she turned back his disordered
and blood stained locks, assembling with
evident effort the mothers anguish lest
she should add another sorrow to the
pangs of his dying hour.
my mother!" he cried with almost
frantic delight. "Is 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 q
child. Thank God!" he continued in
snatches, as his failing strength allowed
him-"tha God for this blessed Joy,
that / see your face once more, my
mother All last night. as ] lay amid the
dreadful sights around me, prayed that
might look once more upon your face,
my sweetest mother, once more hear your
voice. ! seemed to pray in vain, yet still
Iprayed."
"My poor, poor boy, " she said "a curse
upon the hand that has brought you to
this!" and her tears at length broke from
her control.
To the amazement of all, there ap-
peared to be something in this exclama-
ton OF his mother that stimulated the
dying youth to final effort of speech
and motion. He half raised himself
uom his bed, and with that unaccounta.
bic energy which sometimes marks the
closing moments of life, he said: "No,
no. don't say that. Don't say accurst.
You know not the words you are speak
.ng. OH" he cried after moments
,ause, "how shall tell her the horrible
tale? How can / smite her down with
such blow, at such an hour?" and he
fell back exhausted upon his pillow.
The effort had been too much for him,
and for some moments we doubted if the
spirit had not fled. 1t was only pass
ing weakness, however, and before long
de rallied again. Again he spoke, but
with a kind of dreamy half conscious.
ness, at one moment gazing into his
mothers eyes, at another seemingly for
Cctful of her presence
Truly it was a bloody field, he said.