The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-07-06
Soloisrs' Budget.
Boys in the War.

ers, like Sherman's son, whose inter-
esting story appears in his memoirs;
they were usually in the camps or
blvouacs during the intervals which
obtain in every army between battles,
Some boys like Charley Weise, who
lost an arm at Gettysburg, were taken
care of and paid by some officer of suffi-
cient rank to afford such tender lux
! uries. Many entered the army as young
| as fourteen, fifteen and sixteen years
OF age, as did the present secretary of
war, Stephen b. Elkins. 1 think he
had commission at sixteen. Ger
tainly the story of his first encounter
with the enemy beyond the Mississippi,
commanding Kansas men, where the
greater proportion of his detachment
was killed or wounded, is full of roman
tic interest Probably no boy in the
service had at the close of the war a
larger field of experience than he. L
think there was hardly company in
the field that did not have some bows
under twenty-one years of age, so that
the aggregate of actual "boys" would
reach thousands. On the confederate
side the proportion of youths from
fourteen to twenty was larger than
with us. 1t was declared that General
G. W. Smiths last command in Georgia,
reported from 5000 to 10000 strong,
was made up of cold men and boys;"
that they were marched to the field and
showed an ardor and devotion to their
cause which cannot be moderated. The
boys of our side, to their credit, were
as ardent to save the Union and prevent
the breaking up of the country as were
the confederate boys in the work of its
destruction.
knew Colonel Alpheus S. Hardee,
the author of g Hardees Tactics - and
was stationed with him three years at
West Point, n. Y, where he COM
manded the corps of cadets. / became
intimately associated with him and his
family. He had little boy who was
about ten or eleven years of age when
the family left West Point-Willie
Hardee. Willie entered the confeder-
ate service the last year of the war, and
certainly was not more than sixteen
years of age. He was slain in the last
battle of our column, the battle of Ben
tonville, N. G. General Joseph Z.
Johnston was there in chief command,
and Willie's father had a wing of the
army. l met Colonel Hardee in Ala
lama after the war. He spoke to me
cheerfully, but the sadness of his face
was too evident not to be noticed, and
he hardly smiled as he spoke to me and
mentioned his remaining family The
breaks between us of the North and
South occasioned by the late war were
the most affective of all.
Most persons have heard the story of
little Willie, the Drummer Boy of
Shiloh" His mother in Tennessee was
left with large family, Willie being
the eldest, the guerilas having taken
the life of the husband and father.
With her family she drifted to St. Louis.
Willie, being about ten years of age,
was too small TO enlist, but was received
as drummer boy, because he had great
facility with his drum, being able to
follow the tall tifer in any tune the fifer
could play. The sergeant who bad
charge of the drum corps became very
fond of Willie, and saw to it that his
wages went every pay day to his mother.
After the first day at Shiloh the SER
geant missed the boy, and hunted for
him nearly all night, but could not find
him. Early in the morning he heard,
beyond knoll that he was crossing, the
sound of drum. The lad sat with his
back against tree and drummed to call
attention to his situation. AS soon as
the sergeant approached he cried for
water, which the sergeant ran and
brought to him. Then the boy pointed
to his legs. A shell had carried away
both feet. The sergeant took him in
his arms and carried him back to the
field hospital, but the shock was too
great; the little fellow died there after
that terrific conflict.
Charley Weise was a German lad.
He was about twelve years of age wien
he came to the front in the winter of
'61 and '62. l first saw him in what
was called Camp California, near Alex
andria, Va. He was a messenger for
Colonel James Miller of the Eighty
first Pennsylvania Volunteers. The
colonel gave him a pony, which he rode
back and forth from the colonel's tent
and my own. became very much in-
terested in the handsome boy. He was
thick set, square houldered lad. He
always had bright, smiling face when
he handed me an official letter or took
a message from me for his colonel.
AT Gettysburg, Boney, as he was
called by the soldiers, probably from
some resemblance TO the little corporal,
was holding several horses. He had
lost his colonel in the battle of Fair
Oaks and was then on the staff of Gen.
eral George w. Balloch. The horses
stood with their heads down, and Boney
had drawn one rein through the others
and was holding on to this rein with his
left hand, when piece of a shell
struck his left arm near the elbow and
clipped it off. The boy was taken
back to the hospital and put under the
charge of one of the most sympathetic
and careful nurses in our army, Mrs.
S. S. Sampson. While she was bathing
him one day and assisting in dressing
his wounds she could not help saying,
"Poor boy! Poor boyl' He looked
up with a resolute face into hers and
said: 81 am not poor boy. General
Howard lost his right arm and l have
lost my left; that's all about it," From
that singular sympathetic connection 1
followed with much interest Rnney,s