The evening herald. [volume] (Shenandoah, Pa.) 1891-1966, 1899-01-09
A Deserved Tr.but

The readers of this paper, at least
the majority of them, are acquainted
with Capt. Jack Crawford, the noted
government scout and poet, and u
former resident of this town In the
course of a recent lecture ne aid
deserved tribute to "the angels of
the battlefieldn during the civil war,
which is worthy of production in
these colums.
ION all of Gods green and beauti-
full earth" says the poet-scout,"
there are no purer, no nobler, no
more kind hearted and self-sacrificing
women than those who wear the
sombre garb of the Catholic Sisters.
During the war I had many oppor-
tunities for observing their noble and
heroic work, not only in the camp
and the hospital, but in the death
swept field of battle Right in the
fiery front Of dreadful war, where
bullets hissed in maddening glee, and
shot and shell flew wildly by with
demoniac shrieks, where dead and
nangled forms lay with pale, blood
flecked faces, yet wearing the scowl
of battle, l haye seen the black robed
sisters moving over the field, their
solicitous faces wet with the tears of
sympathy, administering to the wants
of the wounded, and whispering
words of comfort into the ears soon
to be deafened by the cold implaca5 5le
hand of death
Now kneeling on the blood be-
spatted sod to mOisten with water the
bloodless lips on which the icy kiss of
the death angel had left its pale i'm
print; now breathing words of hope
of ali im-Iu-taiity bevond the grave
into the ear of some mangled hero,
whose last shots in our glorious cause
had been fired but a moment before;
now holding the crucifix to receive
the last kiss from somebody's darling
boy from whose breast the life blood
was splashing, and who had offered
his life as a willing sacrifice on the
altar of his country; now with tender
touch and ear.dimmed eyes binding
gaping wounds from which most
women would have shrunk in horror:
now scraping together a pillow of
forest leaves upon which some pain
racked head might rest until the
spirit took its flight to other realms
faa rlaGg of larrrar. i'm
implicitly in the Master whose over
shadowing eye was noting their every
movement; standing rs shielding,
prayeriu4 angels between the dying
soldier and the horrors of death.
Their only recompense, the sweet,
soul-soothing consciousness that they
were doing their duty; their only
hope Of reward, that peace and
eternal happiness which awaited
them beyond the star emblazoued
battlements above. Ah, my friends,
it was noble work
''How many veteran of the war
who wore the blue or gray, can yet
recall the soothing touch of a Sisters
hand as he lay upon the pain-tossed
couch of hospital Can we eyer
forget their sympathetic eyes, their
low, soft spoken words Of encourage.
ment and cheer when the result Of
the struggle between life and death
yet hung in the balance? Oh, how
often have followed the form Of that
good Sister Valencia with my sunker
eyes as she moved away from my col
to the cot Of another sufferer, and
have breathed from the most sacred
depts of my family beating heart the
fervent prayer, God bless her God
bless herr
my friends, am not a Catholic,
but / stand ready at any and all time:
to defend those noble women, even
with my life, for l owe that life tc
them"