The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1892-04-30
PHIL! OH, PHIL Y
How General Sheridan, as an Irish
Lad, Went to West Point
Military Academy.
LIKE CHAPTERS OF A ROMANCE
Seems the Story of Poor George
Binkley, Friend of the Hero
of Winchester.

Binkley, Friend of the Hero
of Winchester.
In an unmarked grave at the base of a
great lone rock. within visions range of
Pixies Peak, lie buried the remains of the
snan who gave General Phil Sheridan to
America and to history, says T. H. Can
non in She Washington Star.
The facts contained in this narrative
may sound like romance. They have
never until now appeared in print, al
though known TO hundreds of persons
both in Ohio and Colorado. The pecu-
liar circumstances by which I became
possessed OF the strange story, and my
connection with it, have rendered my
task q delicate one, although for several
years I have been constantly solicited to
make them public. Death having re-
moved the two leading figures OF the
drama, have at last consented to relate
the various details of pathetic history
as they came within my personal knowl-
edge during a psri*,d of fifteen years.
The facts contained in the story can be
verified by hundreds of citizens of Col
orado. They reveal a strange blending
OF drama and tragedy, and cast no dis
credit upon the memory of one Of the
great MILITARY figures of the civil war.
first met George Binkley in 1874 in
an embryo mining camp perched high
upon the precipitous slopes of the Sierras
San Juan, in southwestern Colorado.
How he got into camp no ono knew and
DO one inquired. The search for gold
was then too keen to permit of idle curl
osity concerning your neighbor He
nust have climbed the long, toilsome zig.
gag burro trail Leading from Del Norte
to Summitvil|e on foot, for he was wan
and weak from hunger and fatigue when
he appeared at our camp fire one night
and begged for something to eat. He
presented an uncanny picture, set in un-
canny Surroundings. Tall and gaunt, he
stood before us as a ghost. while an un~
kempt mass Of wEitened hair fell down
over his stcoping shoulders, mingling
with a beard that fell almost to his
waist, leaving visible only little circle
of his face. From underneath his shaggy
syebrows hIs eyes cleaned like two
great embers of a once living and con-
ss,ming frs His clothes we're in tat
ters, and his limbs trembled with ner~
vousness and fatigue, but his voice had a
deep, mellow ring, that despite an under
current of pain and WEAKNESS bespoke
the training of it's once powerful owner.
"I'm Old Bink and I'm hungry" was
his. laconic suIntation as he drew up be-
fore the camp fire and calmly surveyed
the half dozen rough miners who sat
about the blaze smoking their pipes. 1t
was uttered in the voice of one who had
been worsted in an encounter with fate
and WIS Indifferent as to the result.
With the proverbial hospitality OF from
tiersmen and miners we placed before
the stranger an abundance Of the rough
but substantial food found in the camp
ksttles, and he ate ravenously. When
he had satisfied his hunger pair of
blankets was given him, and rolling him
self up in them beneath the dropping
branches Of a mighty pine our strange
and taciturn visitor soon fell asleep. We
resumed our pipes, and after a brief dis
cussion Of our guest we agreed that he
was broken~down pnospector and that
he was welcome. Then we crept be-
meath our blankets and dreamed under
the stars Of fabulous veins of gold, while
our ears heard not the thunder of the
mountain torrents leaping down the
scanned and scared sides of Del Norte
peak to join the foaming current Of the
Rio Alamasa.
And that was how "Old Blink" came to
our camp, perched like speck between
rim of pine and the eternal snow. We
knew not whence he came, neither did
we care. We had the broken-down pill
grim in our care and would shelter and
feed him. In day or two he was fix
turenand little by little dropped his i'm
penetrable reserve. During the day he
would wander along the mountain sides
and up deep gulches looking for indica-
tions of mineral. He made himself USE
full cooking our rude meals. He was
conversant not only with geology and
metallurgy, but knew every mountain
plant and flower by name. It was "Old
Blink" who, when one Of the boys was
stricken down with mountain fever,
sought out in the darkest gulches the
mountain cage and gave relief to our
/ comrade. He found q bed of tender