The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-05-08
FADED CAP OF BLUE.


civil war in the Geological Museum of the
Hoosier Capitol there Is an old army cap
torn and faded and bullet-pierced, the silent
eloquence of which must surely appeal to
the heart and feeling Of every visitor.
Nothing, you say, but faded blue army
cap, old and ragged! But look you a little
closer. All, there is the unwritten story-a
bullet hole. clean cut, above the rim. No
need now to inquire the fate of its owner
but with imaginaton's help we are waited
through the cloudland of fancy and far
away in some lonely Southern grave. on the
mountain top beneath the ever-murmurfng
pines, or in the fair valley where blooms
the myrtle and magnolia, we picture our
hero reposing in one of those common
graves where. after some great scene of car
mage and bloodshed. when the hellhounds
of war were loosed and the brazen-mouthed
cannon and deadly fire Of musketry moved
down the ranks of men like the storm
wind the trees of the forest, not one, but
many, we're buried, "unknelled. uncoffined
and unknown"
What so eloquent so full of meaning, as
this silent memento of the past? How our
very hearts are stirred by the mute appeal
of this bullet-scarred cap, with its faded
and torn appearance Full many the years
that have gone to join the voiceless past
since first the proud young form put on the
uniform of the Republic, donned the SOL
dler's cap Of blue, and, under the starry
flag, went bravely forth to do battle for
the preservation of the Union and the free
dom OF the slave. How sad the soldiers
heart when he babe goodbye to father and
mother waved a kiss to the fair young
sweetheart, gave one last lingering look at
the dear old home and familiar faces, and
with martial mien, yet tear-dimmed eyes,
waved last adieu.
Upon the Hill he turned
To take a last fond look,
OF the valley and the village church
And the cottage by the brook;
He listened to the sounds,
So familiar to his ear,
And the soldier leant upon his sword
And wiped away a tear.
Beside that cottage porch,
girl was on her knees
she held aloft a snowy scarf,
Which fiuttered to the breeze;
She breathed prayer for him,
prayer he could not hear,
But he paused to bless her as she knelt.
And wiped away a tear.
'He turned and left the spot,
Oh, do not deem him weak
FOR dauntlesS was the soldiers heart,
Though tears were his cheek.
Go watch the foremost rank
In dangers dark career,
Be sure. the hand most daring there
HAS wiped away a tear"
But anon, the bugle sounds, the drum
beats, the starry flag floats free and it's
bright folds kiss the wandering zephyrs.
While with tender and hallowed thoughts
the soldier goes forth to do battle for his
country. 1t is not our province to follow
him through the many and trying ordeals
and vicissitudes of life upon the field of
battle, but we feel sure that he bore nobly
and well the burdens of a soldiers life and
bravely met soldiers DEATH Whether at
Rich Mountain, Donelson, Antietam, Get
tysburg, Shiloh, Charlottesville, or some
other well-fought battlefield, the leaden
messenger of death sped on its ia al err
rand and pierced the noble forehead beneath
the cap of blue we know not but it suf-
ices US that our hero died as a hero should.
with his face toward the foe That at the
last moment, when the soul was called
from the body, our soldier boy was braveIy
nghting for the republic founded in the
blood OF his forefathers shed at Lexington
Concord and Bunker HILL His young man
mood was given as a sacrifice with that of
many other silent heroes for the freedom
or the slave and that this government of
the people, by the people and for the people
might not perish from the earth"
RUPLE DIX SMITH.