The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-05-24
A RELIC FROM HIS NECK
CHAs. IT. MURRAY FINDS LEAD RE-
CEIVED AT STONE RIVER.
Worked Out of His Skin While Visit
ing the Scene of the Carnage
Years Afterwards.


last novel, "A Modern Gypsy" has just
been issued, and who is now at the Deni-
son, "but there is more of it, and you don't
have to pay for it. Au contraire-it pur-
sues you--it catches you unawares, and
sometimes in the neck.
lone of the most remarkable instances
of this happened to me the other day. While
at Nashville, travelling as guest of the
Barnum & Bailey show, took the oppor-
tunity to run out to Murfreesboro to visit
the old battlefield of Stone River, where in
the Thirteth Indiana l had fought, bled
and came nearer dying than my grade Of
patriotism seemed to call for, just thirty
four years ago the 31st of last December.
had not been there since that memorable
occasion, and not surprised to find the
aspect of the country considerably changed.
The railway station now stands about half
a mile out-on the spot where l last saw
two soldiers cutting steaks from a dead
mule, and a whole battery, guns, horses
and all, in a confused and silent heap.
Il met an aged man with long beard on
my way in, and asked him where l could
find man to pilot me over the battlefield
somebody VINO knew all about it.
" Were you in the battle?' he inquired.
II said L was. Whereupon he pointed to
d TIdllu ARMY DUllOu anu GALGIluCQ Ills
hand, with so was L.
HE was a nice old fellow and wanted
me to go to his house and remain day or
two, and offered To take me around himself
if I'd wait till the next day. He had fought
there thirty-four years before, and returned
some nine years ago to live and die there.
Breaking away from him, 1 went up town
to get something to eat. Opposite the court
house was small eating room, and L
went in
so, yes have come down to see the ould
battlefield, said the proprietor, bringing a
chair up beside me at the table,
II have, said l, but how did you
"Oh, begorry, I know it-they amt
nothin else 10 see-an' lots of the old fell
lers come stringin' along now and thin
And some of them stay here" L re-
marked, thinking of the old man.
" That's right said he; an I'm one O.
Z" You were a Northern soldier, and in the
fight here?
. That 1 was said he, an an Irish
Hoosier too who was glad to git out of it,
when L told him / was an Indiana SOL
der, in the battle, too, he brought in Mrs.
Malone and Miss Malone and all the little
Malones, and they looked me over, while L
looked over a very interesting and intelli-
gent family.
:" Faith, an there are slathers Of us here,
said he, presently, with a. sigh, but most of
us are dead. You'll find EN- in the soldiers
cemetery beyant.'
Il went out to this same cemetery later
in the day and verified his statement. 1t
was just across the old hedgerow leading
down from the ruined farmhouse to the
Nashville turnpike. From this same farm
house had gazed longingly day after day
upon the great supply trains passing either
way unbrokenly, as l passed through the
varying torture of wounds to convalescence.
There was the old porch where the sur
geon's table stood beneath my window
whence the sound of the saw and the
groanS of the wounded arose all that day
and that CHRISTMAS eve and the Christmas
day and night And right there in the yard
they threw the dismembered limbs, the
mangled hands and feet, in a CORY, siCIIen-
ing stack. oh, the memory of that Christ
mas eve! The smell of the human blood
came upon me, and L turned to quiet
walk among the acres OF green graves, and
read the names of the dead from my State.
For some reason the company and regi-
ment are not given on the headstones, and
those who have slept there these thirty
four years We're to me as unknown dead
THE sun was hot to broiling. My, ex-Con-
federate guide was ignorant and obstinate
and l was stirred deeply by the revival of
memories of that awful day of carnage.
Seated on the small of his back, with his
foot over the dashboard and occasionally
expectorating tobacco saliva through his
whiskers my guide rapidly unrolled the
panorama of the great battle as we went
along He had been acting in this capacity
for over thirty years, and if his information
as to the affair can be measured by the
details given me of that particular part of
it in which [ participated he is the rugged,
unvarnished romancer OF the age The al
legged '0lQ-guafQ' reDc VINO cOEQucIeQ me
over the field of Waterloo was an angel
child in business by comparison. His line
of battle for Johnson'S division on that ia
tai Wednesday morning was at least q mile
out of the way. OF course, the destruction
of the forest timber and the new farm
houses and roads proved somewhat confus-
ing; but, by dint Of persuasion and ridt-
cule and driving here and there, l at last
identified the ground. BY some curious ac-
cident he came within couple of thousand
yards of locating the spot where General
Sills was killed. could place 1t within
fifty feet, so wildly did the scene of that
December morning come back to me. l
could again see the black horse stretched
upon the field, crushing one leg Of his
gallant rider, both silent in simultaneous
cap had rolled a, few feet away. The sword
knot still twined about the, wrist, though
the naked blade had parted from the re-
Taxed hand. My company divided to the
right and left around them-brave horse
and man-and advanced in line of battle un-
'3There was the same fence line beyond,
on the rise of ground where hundreds of
my comrades fell to rise no more on earth,
and from whence l was borne in the gen
eral rout which followed the turned right
wing. l remembered every incident-the
brave stand of the LOOMS battery of Ma
poleon brass on our immediate left-Bush's
field guns playing grape and canister
Italian of my company with red hand
kerchief about has head and swarthy face
down until ole of these same grape shot
carried the upper half of his head away
the sharp cut of the pocket knife in the
hand of Major FftZsimmons as he sep
arated my belt to throw my cartridges to
those clamoring for ammunition, as L lay
stricken in the corn furroW.
LAS l sat there and recalled it all felt
an itching the back of my neck A
small protuherance had been climbing my
back under the skin for some years. 1t had
never given me any pain, and was no more
noticeable than a mole. 1t had gradually
got upward until directly beneath my collar
button, where it had become initiated. A
day or two before / had called the attention
of the manager of our car to 1t and squee zed
some matter out of it, 1t simply itched,
and as | sat there l pinched 1t harder
when out popped hard substance which
proved to be small irregular spray of
lead!
at was only about as big as half a No.
bird shot, but it was lead. And that lead
had been received on that very spot more
is hard to believe, and being writer of
fiction I tell of it with the reluctance one
naturally feels at relating an improbable
story which may be set down by the in
credulOGs as impossible. But it is true. l
can explain Ii only by recalling the fact
that [ was twice hit there and still carry
one bullet in my body. The curious tricks
that lead thus deposited plays are well
known to every soldier and surgeon. That
fence was cloud of Splinters and bits of
lead swept upon us like so much hail, This
small piece would not have been felt in the
long agony of suffering that followed. 1t
was probably only skin deep at any time
and, matter of fact, never bothered
me until it got under my collar button.
The extraordinary feature is that ] shoald
have forced it out on the exact spot where
/ had received it SO many years before"
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