i UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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MEMOIR

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WHO FELL AT TKE

BATTLE OF SHILOH,

AGED TWENTT-TWO YEAHS-

" Spirit benign, oh love of native land!
For thee, the sword leaps flashing to the hand;
For thee, long death is one brief smile of joy.
And loftiest thoughts their loftiest powers employ.'*
Alfeed B. Stbeet.

NEW YORK :
PUBLISHED FOR THE METROPOLITAN FAIR FOR THE
V. S. SANITARY COJIMISSION.
18 64,

i

A
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MEMOIR.

Could we, by the aid of a magic wand, exhibit to
our readers the homes which our young heroes have
left, it would give them a better idea of the depth
of self-sacrifice they have made and are making, than
any words, however forcible.
Surrounded by all that wealth, taste and aiFection
could offer, they have burst the silken bonds of self-
indulgence, and bravely accepted the hardships and
privations of a camp.
" Look here upon this picture."
A bright, warm, cosy room, which owes its chief illu
mination to loving looks, and radiant smiles, and
merry laughter; for father, mother and children are
all happy, and joyous, and young. Here are books,
music, pictures, and a well-spread board, to which all
are welcomed with cordial hospitality. What showers
of caresses and endearments are lavished on the only

son. He has this day attained his majority, and a
few friends are present to offer gifts and congratula
tions. The scene is rose-tinted and fraught with
melody, for the trumpet has not yet sounded.
Now on this, sketched by the hand of a boy hero :
" You wonder how I live — pity me for living in a
place hardly nice enough for my horse. I must un
deceive you, my little darling, and tell you, you could
not get my horse in my tent, and barely cover him
with it, if it were not stretched. I thought of you,
little Tom, when for four mortal hours the other
night, drenched to the skin, I tried in vain to build a
fire of wet wood. I thought of you when I eat hard
tack and pork, and thought of you when I couldn't
get any. I thought of you when a man chased a pig,
killed it, and gave me the hind quarter. 'Tis Thanks
giving eve. I only wish I could be one of the group
that will gather round the table to-morrow. I will
have pork and beans. They have been cooking since
last night, and now are being baked. In a hole in
the ground is placed some fire; then the beans, after
being boiled in a mess-pan, the pork on top ; over
this is placed a large iron cover, and on this coals of
fire. Then I have some rice from the Commissary's,
and I will dine like a prince, alone in princely gran
deur. Perhaps this is the greatest drawback, being

all alone. It is hard work to find time to write to
you at home. When in camp, there seems to be an
infinite quantity of small matters to look after. Ah,
me ! Shall 1 grumble, or shall I not ? My beans are ,
burnt, and so is the rice — my dinner nearly spoiled.
Still I'll be thankful that I am not double-quicldng it.
Next Sunday, after inspection, I mean to lie in bed
and have my under-clothes washed, inasmuch as I
have worn these three weeks, and can neither go my
self nor send any one to Washington to get those you
have sent me. I cannot get them by express, as none
is allowed to go till we get better accommodations.
" It grows late. The short candle I had has long
since died out, and naught remains save the glare
from the ruddy coals.
" Good night, Tommy. I feel my eyes full of
water. You best can tell whether it is thinking of
you loved ones, or the smoke from my camp fire."
Does not the veteran determination and bravery
of boys, reared in the lap of luxury, and whining at
the smallest ailment, " like a sick girl," partake of
the nature of miracle ? Pigmies become giants in a
day. Much as we honor the scarred and laureled war
riors who have engaged in this noblest of conflicts,
our enthusiastic admiration is given to the delicate

striplings, to whom life is new, and fresh, and spark
ling ; who, without the armor of skill or experience,
fearlessly meet the formidable Goliath, with only
sling and stone.
" Mother," exclaimed a youth only twenty, " see
how old I am getting, and have done nothing for my
country 1" And the subject of this memoir, at the
suggestion of a friend, that an only son had better
remain at home, replied earnestly: " Oh, no ! I should
be ashamed to be seen in the streets." May others
share his ardor at this critical moment, and avoid
the shame of turning a deaf ear to the call of their
country 1
The royal road to learning has at length been dis
covered. No unfordable streams to cross, no inac
cessible hills to climb, but with one bound the journey
is made, the goal attained. Henceforth the Kinden
Garten system will no longer be confined to infants —
object lessons, the lash and the fetter — the sword and
the cannon will be more inspiriting to young and
ardent souls than the eloquence of Cicero or Demos
thenes. Edward Lewis Mitchell was — is the only son of
John P. Mitchell,Esq., an honorable lawyer of this city.
Strict integrity, and uncompromising allegiance to
Liberty, was his inheritance from his ancestors on

both sides. His maternal ancestors were Kentucki-
ans. His great-grandmother, always fearless and out
spoken on behalf of the oppressed, was a sister of
Col. Allen McLean, of Revolutionary memory.
His paternal grandfather. Rev. Edward Mitchell, is
still remembered in this city for his eloquence and
high-toned principles — an Abolitionist when Aboli
tionism was a disgrace.
When the first shot was fired at Fort Sumter, and
all foresaw the terrible result, Edward was quietly
pursuing his studies, and attending law lectures at
Columbia College — ^instantly his books were thrown
aside, his determination was taken, and application
made for a position ia the army. After considerable
delay — ^which might have cooled the enthusiasm of a
less resolute spirit — ^he obtained the appointment of
First Lieutenant in the 16th Regiment TJ. S. Infantry;
and on the 14th of July, 1861, buoyant with noble
aspirations, he left his beautiful home — the house in
which he was born. " He shed no outward tears,
but his heart wept," as he tore himself from the dear
ones from whom he had never, except for a short time,
been separated, and then with the certainty of soon
meeting; now with the uncertainty attending a sol
dier's fate.
We will not attempt to describe the shadow that

8
fell upon that dear home, but letters soon came which
lessened the gloom. They were always bright and
cheerful, full of hope and enthusiasm^long marches,
but no fatigue — soaked to the skin — but " don't be
uneasy, I have no rheumatism — never was better in
my life."
Before following him to the camp, we must linger a
moment among the peaceful scenes of his boyhood,
and retrace a few incidents which show how well
founded were the fond anticipations of his friends.
His kindness and gentlemanly deportment were con
fined to no class nor race. He had been thoroughly
initiated in the principles and practice of Christian
Democracy. From a child he was the champion of the
oppressed. At a party a young girl, who, in conse
quence of some personal defect, was neglected by the
chivalrous youths, who selected for partners in the
dance those who were admired for beauty or elegance,
was led out by the noble boy, spite of the tittering
of his companions.
If a chaperon wej-e needed to show the lions of the
city to some uncouth rustic, Ned was always ready,
utterly regardless of the ridicule of his companions,
or the unenviable notoriety to which he was subjected
by his staring and garrulous companion.
One day he met a poor foreigner who had left the

city a year before, to seek his fortune South; he had
not succeeded, his wife had died, and he had returned
with his children, penniless and discouraged. With
out waiting to form plans, and select some benevolent
individual to whom he might refer the case, and
thereby relieve himself from any further trouble, he
took counsel of Ms own generous impulses, and fearing
no rebuff for thoughtlessly increasing domestic cares
conveyed father and children to his home, where the
unfortunate were always welcome. No one under
stood better how to relieve those he served from a
sense of obligation, and even to transfer the burden
to himself.
It is a rare gift in the young to appreciate the in
gredients of a cup which they have never tasted, and
to extract from it some drops of bitterness by the
warmth of their sunshine.
Immediately on the commencement of hostilities^
several of his mother's Southern connections sought
refuge in her house. Among them was the mother of
Gen. (then Colonel) C. F. Smith, who was stationed
at Governor's Island. A few weeks after her arrival
she was seized at night with croup. Her son must be
summoned. With the utmost speed the prompt and
obliging boy was ready, and flying to a livery stable,
roused the keeper, and drove to the Battery; but
1*

10
there was no conveyance to the Island. What should
he do ? After a few moments' anxious search he dis
covered a boat tied to the wharf, unfastened it, and
rowed down to the Port. His speed was in vain.
The son was too late to receive from her own lips his
mother's blessing. However, in less than a year, the
brave warrior and his loving mother were re-united
beyond the possibility of separation.
If at table a question occurred respecting the mean'
ing or pronunciation of a word — " Come, Ned, the
Dictionary," was enough, and without remonstrance,
down went knife and fork, and English, French, or
Latin Dictionary, and perhaps an Encyclopeedia, were
brought from the library and thoroughly searched.
This was a severe test of obedience for a hungry
boy, but was exceedingly useful in forming habits of
promptness and investigation.
He was very fond of animals, and a short
time before he left the city, and -While he was ex-'
tremely anxious lest he should not procure a commis
sion, he sat up all night with a favorite dog, which
died the next day.
This tenderness might naturally be expected from
one who was brought up in an asylum for the aflaicted
of all descriptions, man or beast. Its reputation
seemed to have reached all the sick and lame animals

11
of the fieighborhood, as one or more invalids were
generally found there, nursed and tended like an in
fant. These are not isolated occurrences; our memory is
crowded with incidents which show a lively sympa
thy for all sufferers, even for those who by their mis
deeds forfeit the respect of the virtuous. To pick up
a wretched drunkard in the street, support him with
his arm and take him home, was by no means a re
markable act for him; many as kind and disinterested
might be related had we more space.
To resume our narrative. After remaining a short
time at Chicago, Lieut. Mitchell went on a recruiting
service to Kalamazoo, Mich. He writes from that
place: " I have just received the mess basket, with its
sweet contents. I opened it down stairs, in the mess
quarter, distributing candy and newspapers among
them, keeping, of course, an abundant supply for ' my
young lady friends,' for whom I understand it was
sent. The segars father sent are pronounced excel
lent. In the caramel, I recognised your and 1 .'g ap
preciation of sweet things; and last, but more pre
cious than other more perishable things, were the
photographs. S.'s is not so pretty as herself. But
I'd almost forgotten the music book.

12
"I'm to receive my pay-roll soon, dated from May;'
so all the officers have drawn two months and a half
from the date of our rank. When I receive the
check, which will be on New York, I shall remit at
least half; if I receive pay for only one month, I
shall still send on half. I mean to save ; it will be
easy. Tell father I shall not smoke. I have not for
four years, and am unwilling, so late in life, to begia
a bad habit.
" There are no public baths here, so, for want of a
better, I shall use a sponge bath. I bought a splendid
sponge, full oi pebbles — didn't know that till I scrubbed
my back ; but they keep up a good circulation, and
are therefore beneficial."
While the Captain was absent at Grand Rapids^
mustering into the army a company of volunteer
cavalry, Lieutenant Mitchell became commanding
officer at the rendezvous. It seemed his study to-
relate all the amusing little incidents which occurred,
that he might prevent any solicitude on his account.
He frequently speaks of a young lady whom he
calls " mon amie" — but adds, " she is engaged." " I
told you in yesterday's letter that Miss  and I
were to ride in the evening. We did ride nearly two
hours, over a splendid road, on the prairie. When I
came back I went to the Burdick House, and took

13
my music to the piano, to see if my fingers yet retained
their magic /" (He had a beautiftd touch.) " I believe
they do, for I think the noise I made had some such
effect upon the people of the house. They heard me
up in the third story, and those who had retired very
early must have been visited Avitli nightmare. I'm
afraid I made more noise than music ; but when Misa
 's fingers lend their aid, to add a treble or a bass,
the duett will be complete, and I need no more prac
tice in semi-to«es,"
The following extract from his journal proves how
desirous he was to regard sanitary rules even in his
amusements :
" It was not the first time I danced with the pretty
schoolmistress — then a quadrille with a bouncing
rosy-cheeked country girl, who leaped like a deer,
and was fall of fun. At last supper was announced,
and though I had brought no fair damsel with me,
and every one else had, I did what best I could. I
formed arms "with the married lady leading the
march, and secured a seat at table by the school
mistress. Our supper was rather a dinner, for beef
steak, potatoes, fish, &c., were conspicuous among the
edibles. " Supper passed off very pleasantly beside my
agreeable companion, and when it was over I went

14
to bed, having to rise early. But the ball-room
adjoined my sleeping apartment, and no sooner had
I composed myself for a night's rest than the music
commenced) and my bed was seized -with an irresisti
ble desire to at least keep time to it^ and the motion
of the dancers actually seemed to be imbued with life,
and, yielding to the persuasive eloquence of the floor,
rocked and swayed with delight.
" My number has been thirteen, and suddenly I
heard a low voice, as if summoning me from my rest
to again participate in the excitement of the dance ;
but I controlled myself, and gradually fell asleep.
" During the evening two Irishmen, with whom I
had spoken during the day, witnessed my movements
in the ball-room, and when I met them afterwards,
still in the room, one of them told me that he would
be candid and say, that though when he first saw me
he thought me proud and distant, aided in his mind
by the knowledge that I had come from New York,
still his opinion had changed wonderfully, and the
more he saw of me the more he liked me, and wished
to enlist under me. But he was married, and fifty-
one years had passed over his head, tinging it with
gray. I explained why I could not take him. He
would do any thing for me, I'm convinced.
" I conversed with him about Ireland ; told him

15
my name, and of my Irish blood, and how proud 1
Was of it. We parted excellent friends.
" Another man would have gone with me, married
though he was, if he could possibly have provided for
his -wife. And he parted -with me my firm friend,
because I ad-vised him, after I had seen his wife, to
remain and protect her, and that by so doing he
would perform a duty higher than that Which might
induce him to fight for his country.
" He grasped my hand, and honestly told me his
wife could not support herself -without him | but if
ever it should happen that he could enlist, he would
seek me out in Kalamazoo and serve under me. So
I left Alligan happy in the consciousness of having
made many fast friends, even if I enlisted but few
men." Always considerate for othersj even at his own
expense ; for it was of immense importance to hipl
that the ranks should be speedily filled.
He writes ; " Dr. Lee and the others are very kind
to me. I have but one Way of returning it ; he
smokes, so please ask father to get the best box of
segars he can and send it to me— charging me with
it, of course."
His idea of " compromise," when not so unpopular
as at present, may be gathered ftom the following

16
extract : " Your account of Mr. Hatfield's sermon ia
excellent. I should like to have heard it .with you.
The following passage, ' This rebellion is the wicked
est rebellion since that of Satan in heaven,' reminds
me of a passage in Lovejoy's speech in Congress,
when the cry was for ' compromise :' ' This is the
most causeless rebellion since Satan first led his
cohorts against the throne of God, and yet I never
heard that the Almighty compromised the matter by
establishing a celestial medium of 36'^ 30.' "
Here are his sentiments on the most important
question, whether to obey human or divine laws:
" The sooner we move the better pleased shall I
be. I want to see this affair out speedily. So far I
have but one fault to find with the management of
this part of the campaign. Too much care is taken
of the feelings of the people, at least so it seems to
me. It is just and proper the persons of those not
in arms should be protected from outrage, and their
property from depredation, for we are not fighting
individuals; our force and operations are directed
against the rebel soldiers and their abettors. But we
ought never to suffer inconveniences, that we may
thus cater to the comfort of those whose soldiers are
fighting us, and who we have every reason to believe
sympathize with the rebel cause, even to the extent

17
of openly aiding it when they dare. Are we to re
turn their slaves who may come to us ? If I am ever
ordered to return a slave, I shall disobey and take
the consequences. He may be taken and I shall not
resist, but I'll not soil my hands with such dirty
work. This feeling is quite general.
" Soon the question will be settled that our Gene
ral's duty will be to regard the interests of humanity.
Stanton will mark their course, and then disloyal
men cannot claim their slaves under the laws. Gen
eral Pillow's house, four miles below us, I presume
will be sacredly guarded."
Bold words from one whose commanding officer
had so strictly obeyed the infamous fugitive slave
law, as to return thirty poor wretches who sought
protection, to be lashed and mutilated, and in some
cases killed. So said the journals.
The effect on the people of Kalamazoo on hearing
our defeat at Manasses:
" The war fever which, till yesterday eve seemed
dying out here, has kindled furiously. Last night's
news of our defeat at Manasses has stirred up all pa
triotic people; and old men, married as well as sin
gle, were ready to enlist in the good cause. We do
not take married men, unless they have been in the
army.

18
" I fear we have suffered terribly; more than the
enemy. I cannot understand the reported panic
caused by teamsters. God help the suffering ones;
those gone are beyond earthly comfort, but the poor
mourning ones at home ! Our country has much sad
ness before it.
" Our regiment is fortunate in possessing a fine set
of fellows; it is decidedly a young regiment. Major
S  (who is very much pleased with his young offi
cers) is himself a young man. There is very little
swearing among them; most of them do not swear a,t
all, and it has an influence on the others. Such a
pleasant contrast to those at Governor's Island."
Still at his new business of recruiting, he writes:
" I am striving hard for recruits — have just drawn
up a form for an attractive handbill or poster, and
it is now being set up in type by a friend of mine, a
printer, by name Shakespeare, and this morning I
had muster rolls printed to send out with recruiting
agents; for a printed form is received as genuine,
where one that was only written might be looked
upon with suspicion, as not bearing evidence that 'no
fooling 'was intended. So much faith is placed in
printed matter that it readily affords a channel for
imposing upon such credulity; and I take such ad
vantage of that fact as may best promote the end I

19
have in view, without imposing. I have enlisted
some fine men lately, who at once look the soldier,
without the aid of military dress. They are all at
work recruiting; I shall send them all to camp the
day after Christmas, letting them spend that day in
the home circle."
Respecting this privilege for himself, which he so
anxiously desired, he says:
" I have not yet received an answer to my applica
tion for leave of absence. I may get it by this after
noon's mail. I shaU pass safely through Canada (if
my Major says so) to New York by the Great West
ern route, and see you all on the 1st of the next
year." He turns from his o-wn anxieties to sympathize
-with the sorro-wing:
" It is well at times to have sad moments; pleasant
ones would be of little value without the contrast.
Last Saturday night I heard for the first time a
mother's lament for the loss of a young child. Tony
Dudgen, a boy six years old, his mother's pet, died
of some throat affection. John McKibben and I sat
up with the body. Till 10 o'clock the father and
mother were -with us, and conversing almost pleas
antly. Suddenly she burst into tears. 'I cannot
bear to leave him,' and then going into the room

20
where he lay, wailed in broken-hearted tones her lost
one, ' I cannot bear to leave him.' I could hear her
plaintive tones beseeching him to speak once more
to his mother. It was the last night she could be
¦with him, and she could not leave him. Only her
husband's persuasions led her away. I could not
hold my tears, poor mother."
His last letter from Kalamazoo expresses the se
vere disappointment he experienced at not receiving
a furlough. " On Friday I wrote that I was ordered to head
quarters, and relieved by Lieut. Arnold. When the
order came I opened it expecting to find my furlough
granted, and it hurt me . sadly to know I could not
see you. New Year will come and not bring very
happy thoughts. I have now reconciled myself to
the necessity. It has been hard to crowd out sad
thoughts; I have been as busy endeavoring to shut
out thoughts of home, as in turning over all recruit
ing matters to Arnold. It is only now that I know
what trials are. You will be disappointed. It will
be a long time before I can be in the parlor at home
¦with you all; but when I am there it will be, I hope,
with the consciousness that I have done something to
merit your approval. If no opportunity occur — as
may well be — to distinguish myself, still through

21
home influence, your love, I will so conduct myself
that you need never be ashamed of me.
" I believe H. is the only one of our officers who has
gone home since joining the regiment, and he was
engaged to a young girl about to leave for Europe ;
so I must not murmur.
" I find the accomplishment of my wish to be in active
service, is not, under present circumstances, as grati
fying as I believed. One hour at home, would have
made it delightful. I must determine to anticipate
nothing that may be turned into a disappointment by
a military order. Had I expected no furlough, I
should not thus have helped to sadden you, for I know
you are all very much disappointed. I intended mak
ing you all presents on the first, but must now reserve
that pleasure till my return. This war will hardly
last a year longer, and then I hope to see you. If I
am sent from Columbus to Kentucky, remember I
shall be among relatives I Hadn't you better send
an introduction to your kin ? How kindly 1 may be
received is doubtful.
'¦ Last night Mrs. B. had a party on my account, that
I might bid good-by to my many friends. It was
very pleasant, but I could not shake off the choking
feeling that would rise when I thought of home."
He writes from Camp Thomas, Columbus, Ohio:

22

" At last the decisive moment is approaching rapid
ly, and I am thankful to be permitted a share in the
grand movement to uphold our glorious flag and
country. Our men are splendid fellows, and thorough
ly reliable, and it is a source of pride and comfort to
us. With God's helping hand we will do our duty.
My wish is now about to be realized, to join my bat
talion in the field, and to take part in all their ven
tures, sharing their glory and danger."
For the dear ones at home, who had been so long
devising plans to crowd as much enjoyment as possible
into a small space, and lovingly anticipating the
pleasure of decorating his room with Christmas
greens, the holidays had lost their charm, and in a
few weeks his father and mother took the long, cold
journey, and spent a week with him at Columbus. A
farewell visit ! for they met no more on earth. The
following extract from a letter written immediately
after the separation, will give some idea of the depth
of his suffering:
" It is with a very sad heart I write to night. The
short time we were together made the pang of parting
the greater; and now that you have gone, I realize
what seemed so unreal before, that you had come from
home in New York to be a while with me. I could
not bear to see the sorrow that parting caused you.

23

and though I tried to repress my own grief lest I
might add to yours, it cost me a great effort; and
when I left the car, and it carried you away out of
my sight, my throat, and ears, and head, seemed about
to burst, with the restraint. You will not think me
at all cold or careless at your going; I could have
wept bitterly, and clung to you with all love's power.
but I dared not, fearing to cause you useless pain.
To-day has brought me the saddest moment of my
life, to perceive your sorrow and not have the power
to allay it.
" I gave the cake to the two men in whom mother
was interested, .mentioning it was at her suggestion,
and they were very much pleased. The sick boy in
our tent is getting well rapidly; influenced, I think,
by mother's attentions — a woman's voice and touch,
are so soothing."
We hesitate at revealing the sanctities of heart and
home, but there is such a sweet brotherly spirit in the
following passages, that we cannot refrain from giving
them: " I cannot kiss you twenty times for as many years
that have so lightly passed over your head, and so
must celebrate the anniversary of your birth-day by
the only means in my power, viz.— a letter. To have
given youabrother's loving greeting to-day at our home

24
would have been a great pleasure to me, but instead
of that accept this as a token of my love for you, and
my desire to see and speak with you again. The
little present I requested mother to obtain for you
has pleased you, I hope; and G. has probably not been
disappointed with hers, because it was not her birth
day. As mother was to make the selection, you must
let me know what I have given you. The thoughts
that come to me in connection with your present for
ward movement, naturally are of the many pleasant
hours that we have known in common— of your good
nature, and en^viable warmth of heart and manner —
your happy facility of chasing away the gloom of dis
pleasure in others, particularly when returning home
late from a party, and finding those who sat up for
you trembling with fear, and cold in their robes de
nuit, as I believe happened a short time since. And
as companion to these thoughts comes the recollection
of a scene that is indelibly impressed on my memory.
It was in the nursery at home. Father, you and myself,
and S., then a baby in his arms, were the only occu
pants of the room. Father and I were seated on the bed,
he fondling 3., and I on the right, looking alternately
at him, and at you, who were bending over a candle
on the hearth — I don't know what doing — suddenly
the flame rose and caught your curls. Father threw S.

25

into the top of a clothes basket, and with me rushed
to you, and fortunately extinguished you. S. set up a
yelp, envious, probably, that so much attention should
be shown to you when she was present. It is strange
how one carries certain memories through life, and
forgets others entirely. This one of you is the most
strongly fixed in all its details."
His idea of discipline may be gathered from the
follo^wing recital:
" Your sympathies might have been excited on
Sunday night and Monday in favor of the drummer
boys. I heard they were initiating a new comer,
before receiving him as one of their number, and
hearing his outcries, I went to their tent and found
five of them holding him down, and treating him so
that he resisted strongly, and in a manner that I
could not tolerate. I ordered a corporal to bring
them out in front of my quarters, with packed knap
sacks, and then gave them a ' dose of corporals.'
For your edification I'll describe the ' dose of cor
porals.' " The youngsters march in a circle, with a corporal
to superintend their movements, who is relieved every
half hour. I made them go double-quick ten minutes,
and then ten minutes quick- time. The next day I
kept them at it from 6 A. M. till 9 P. M., giving
2

26

them a half Lour for each meal. They won't offend
again. The guard-house has got to be an old Ltory,
and they did not mind it, for it relieved them from
duty." Here is another leaf from his heart's diary, dated
just south of Louisville, in the mud. With such a
combination of exquisite tenderness and unwavering
courage, what visions of a noble career mingled with
every future anticipation, casting into shade the hor
rid phantoms, which must sometimes ¦visit every heart
who has loved ones in camp or field :
" My writing may be a little illegible, for I have
just been holding the head of a dying man, and the
effort being prolonged, my hand is now unsteady.
He was in charge of six mules, and one becoming
unmanageable, he, unfortunately, in his efforts to
quiet it, was caught around the chest and wound up
in the halter. That was cut in about a minute, and
the poor fellow fell to the ground, the mule falling
on him. He must have been killed at once, but we
tried all means to revive him. He has a younger
brother, (both in our company,) and the poor fellow
is desolate. He was one of oui- best and steadiest
men, and we mourn his loss. He will be buried here,
for we move to-morrow. It was a hard death, on his
way to the field, and his grave ready before the op-

27

portunity to raise his hand in defence of the flag he
loved. " We left Camp Thomas on Monday, at 8 A. M.,
and reached Cincinnati at half-past seven, the whole
city being splendidly illuminated in consequence of
the news of the capture of Fort Donaldson. We
were cheered by thousands ; candles and lanterns
and flags were waving continually, and we marched
haK a mile to the boat through mud, three, four and
five inches thick. We reached Louisville at half-past
seven Tuesday morning. I was officer of the day. We
awaited orders from General Buell till 2 P. M. ; then
we marched through the city, and before dark pitched
our tents. I posted the guard, and an hour and a
half more was necessary to get every thing secure.
Now as to our condition. Notwithstanding the mud,
which is all about us, under the water, we are in a
jolly, happy, and contented condition. We are en
joying what is probably as bad a time- as we shall
have while on campaign, unless we are all caught
some night in a very wet ditch, without tents. This
morning our tent had so much water inside, that a
ditch was at once necessary ; so I had one made all
round it, and carried back more than a hundred feet,
and now our tent is glorious. B. S- and I have
laughed a great deal over some ludicrous affairs to-

28
day. I got my canteen full of hot coffee at 12 M., and
was about to enjoy it with a piece of Bologna sausage,
when I suddenly became aware of the effect of a
retrograde motion, {i. e., a retreat,) by suddenly
coming in contact with the stove, upsetting it, stove
flying one way, pipe another, and coffee all over me.
B. S. had the impudence to laugh at me, but I could
not become indignant, because choking with my own
laughter." The following account of a march will show what
amount of fatigue was endured uncomplainingly :
"You see we have moved again. My last was
written from Camp Andy Johnson, Tenn. I have
not even had a chance to write, for on Sunday, the
16th March, 1862, we marched at 9 A. M., and reach
ing Franklin, eighteen miles south of Nashville, at
3 P. M. This is a very pretty town ; and as we
passed through, colors flying and bands playing, we
evidently made an impression on the inhabitants. It
being Sunday, all were in their best; and the weather
being most lovely, mild enough to sit out doors, the
people, old and young, were so agreeably disposed as
to be gathered on door steps and side walks, gazing
at us, without any appearance of fear or anxiety, that
I could discover. I did see many pretty girls among
them, and several waved handkerchiefs; but I imagine

29
there were, too, many who hated us. Nor do I wonder
at it. Their friends, and probably relatives, are in
the rebel army ; their sympathies are with them, and
it will require time and intercourse with us to bring
a change. It must be hard to know they must yield,
and when added to this is the pain caused by the
death of a rebel soldier, brother or lover, I cannot
wonder that they express their hate by open acts of
revenge. Yet this feeling cannot prevent a re-union
of North and South. Though the people now may
dislike us soldiers, when the war is over, and they
have the opportunity of intercourse with us, they
will transfer this feeling to the existinx) Oovernment,
or, as I hope, and see reason to believe, will cast all
blame upon their own unprincipled Government. Time
will decide all. Well, to resume the march. We
passed beyond Franklin ten miles, and encamped.
Ha'ving marched fifteen or sixteen miles, of course we
felt disposed to take a comfortable sleep ; but orders
came for ten companies of regulars to go out on
picket. Our company was one of those chosen. We
had time only for supper, and off again ten* miles
farther, to a line of hills which fronted the right of our
line, and along woods fronting the left, and the line to
be covered was about two miles, but the line of pickets
was very irregular, owing to the character of the

30

ground — one company — that which I commanded, ex
tended nearly half a mile, and were posted in the skirts
of the woods. I was nearly an hour placing them,
for it was dark, and I had to ascertain the best posi
tions. However, I arranged them so that nobody
could pass them, keeping ten men as a reserve, at
some distance back of the centre of my line. Slept
quite comfortably, occasionally getting up to see if
all was right. The night passed quietly. We were
released at six in the morning, and went back to
camp in time to eat breakfast and march off again. -
This gave us five miles additional marching, and
precious little rest. However, we made our march
of seventeen or eighteen miles, to this place, by four
o'clock, and sweet was that night's rest. During the
last four miles half our men, I mean our company,
were somewhat inclined to limp. When we rested,
I hardly dared to sit down, though it was only for
ten minutes, lest I could not get up again. Our men
were without knapsacks, and only three of the whole
battalion fell out, and one of those was sick. I was
not at- all tired; but the soles of my feet were so
sore, and my sinews so strained, that I felt like an
old woman. I had to laugh at myself. We had
come over a macadamized road, and the sharp stones
made themselves well acquainted with every spot in

31
the soles of my feat ; but that accustomad mo to it,
and now I'm ready for any amount of walking, how
ever hard it may be."
Those who recollect the slight, graceful figure of
the youth, whose athletic exercises were confined to
the gymnasium or ball room, and occasional riding
or boating, will appreciate the rapidity with which
he had attained to the full stature of moral manhood.
The disgusting quarters in which he found himself
near Nashville are thus described:
" Previous to giving up our city quarters, we found
we had been Kving in what I call a pest house. The
hospital, in which I told you we were quartered, had
been nominally a measles hospital, but we have since
learned that all manner of diseases were treated
there. On the 4th, eight of our men were sick. I
was called by one and asked to look at another, who,
it was said, had small-pox. I found his hands cov
ered with purple blotches, which were just coming on
his face; but, after talking a while, I concluded it
could not be that disease. However, I had him ex
amined at once by our surgeon, who pronounced it
small-pox. Another man was found with it, and
both were conveyed in an ambulance to a hospital;
others had measles, and now we have some eight or
ten men left sick in hospital at Nashville. The

32
building was most foul when we entered it, but we
cleaned it thoroughly; unfortunately we could not
rid it of disease. We are all glad to get into tents
once more. I knew something must be the matter
with the -walls of that old hole, for in the room used
by B. and myself for a sleeping apartment the walls
had a most horrible smell, like dead men's bones,
more than aught else I can think of — accounted for
by an old man, I found in one of the upper rooms, as
caused by the sick spitting against the walls. Assur
edly it was the blackest spitting I ever heard of. The
only bad effect I felt from being in the place was a
slight chill and a little fever the night after reaching
camp. But I am fortunate beyond the lot of most
people in conquering sickness, and I never was bet
ter than I am at present. The open air is the best
panacea, so you need not be worried about your
brother." " A very perceptible change could be noticed in
the streets of Nashville, which were filling gradually
with citizens, and even an occasional young lady
could be seen shopping — and they look more kindly
upon us, not finding us, I suppose, such unmannerly
bears as their fears had led them to believe. And
now Nashville is quite a bearable place; the inhabit
ants are resuming their occupations, and the other

33
day when I went to town on horseback, I noticed a
number of elegant houses and gardens. It must be
a beautiful place in summer, not at all like our dirty
cities." The following foraging expedition may interest
those who can supply their table from a neighboring
market and store, without incurring displeasure or
refusal: " The people hereabouts are represented as the true
Secession type, and Columbia, the Doctor says, is a
real hot-bed of Secessionism; but I'll have an oppor
tunity to -test the sympathies of the farmers and dai^
rymen, for I'm going out on a foraging party, and
expect to bring back quite an abundance. I shall
ascertain if provisions are as scarce in this country
as the people represent. Our mess have had a sorry
time of it while here. The people answer, when
asked to sell, that they have nothing; but their slaves
tell a different story. One man had a large out
house crammed with provisions, and yet replied that
he had nothing. Confound them ! They sold con
tinually to the rebel soldiers when they were here,
I shall add to our larder considerably to-morrow."
" My foraging expedition, yesterday, turned out
well. Upon reporting with fifty men, (more than I
had expected to take,) to Gen'l Rousseau, he told me
2*

84

I was to have six wagons, and go into the country to
obtain forage, oats, fodder, &c., and to see that the
Quartermaster's Clerk (whom I took along to show
the route, and see that what we took Was accounted
for,) gave receipts for every thing. On presenting
these receipts at Brigade Quartermaster's the holder
receives a certificate, upon presenting which to Gen.
Post, Quartermaster in Columbia, he will receive
payment; or if our Brigade Quartermaster has the
money he pays it to the holder at once.
" We went four miles over a tolerable road, and
stopped at a Mr. Evans', the owner of three planta
tions, and who is a large grain dealer. He had al
ready been largely drawn upon, and upon his very
earnest protest against our taking more— for he
needed it for his own stock, and seeing he had but
about five hundred bundles of fodder left — I told him
I would go farther, and take of the abundance > of
some of his neighbors; telling him, however, that if I
could not get what I wanted beyond, I should return
to him. I talked very pleasantly with him, and he
seemed gratified, and very politely saved me the
trouble of shutting the gate as I rode out; probably
glad to be so easily rid of me.
" A little farther I halted before quite a pleasant
house, with its kitchen forty feet to the left, and the

35
little black babies crowing and expressing their joy
in the arms of their mothers, who stood gazing at us
in the door-way. I dismounted and went in, and
was very politely received by Madame Voorhees and
her very pretty daughter Sally, a black-eyed graceful
girl of twenty or so. I made arrangements for get
ting a hundred biscuit and half as many pies — small
ones — ^baked for me on my return, and then went on
to where some oats were housed. Sent Clerk off to
find the owner; he returned with word that a Cap
tain Tirrel had given a written order to reserve
all the fodder on the plantation for his use. There
upon I ordered one wagon to be loaded forthwith,
and rode to see the owner, who turned out to be Mr.
Voorhees, the husband of the polite lady, and father
of the pretty girl I had seen a short time before.
He showed me the written order, which was from a
Captain of our regular artillery, and said two officers
had respected it, and he supposed I would. I po
litely intimated that he was mistaken; that I should
take one load, but no more, as he seemed not to have
a great deal.
'' He was pleased to say something about such a
countenance as mine inspiring confidence, and that
he would be satisfied if I gave him such a receipt as
would show to Captain Tirrel what had been taken.

36
that he might save himself from too heavy a levy.
Of course I did so. Four miles farther, over a hor
ribly rocky road, we filled the rest of the wagons.
While doing so, I went into the house of one of the
two farmers, who were furnishing the fodder, and had
an excellent lunch ; bought chickens, dried apples
and peaches ; and among the things, an excellent
foraging basket. I let the men buy whatever the
people had to sell, but saw that they paid for every
thing they got ; and when we returned nearly every
man had a chicken, or goose, or eggs to tickle hia
palate. This farmer, at whose house I stopped, came'
originally from Virginia, had never owned a slave,
and never would, he said — quite good material in
him for a Union man, and wished the war over. I
left hiin and returned, getting my pies and biscuit at
good Mrs. Voorhees ; paying something on their
value, I think to the credit of the pretty daughter.
" Thus ended my first foraging excursion, and I
find it pleasant duty — a good horse to bestride, and
ample opportunity to fill one's larder."
We take great pleasure in giving the following tes
timony to the worth of a brave soldier, remembering
those noble words of his, which ought to be printed
in letters of gold, as those are which we now copy ;

37
" I will not consent to become a slave, that the negro
may be kept a slave."
" General Rousseau commands our brigade. He is
a perfect gentleman, a Kentuckian, and careful of his
men ; always takes his quarters in a tent, though he
might well use a house. He is liked by every one."
From his last letter, dated Camp, S, W. of Mount
Pleasant, April 2d, 1862, we make the following
extract :
" Seeing cows grazing near the road, our servant,
very ingloriously, transferred a portion of the pure
milk of one to our canteens, thereby refreshing us
greatly. " We encamped near good water, bathed, and I
slept upon a luxurious heap of straw. Off again by
seven this morning, and added to our Vive stock by
taking along a 'free negro^' as he called himself, ' Mat'
by name. His master lived in sight, and it was amus
ing to see how carefully he chose that side where the
soldiers could conceal him from -new. But he's safe
enough, thanks to our late order. He made himself
quite useful to«night, by drawing a duck for us. He
cooks well, and is neat and mannerly.
" Our road to-day was over hills, black with woods,
poor soil, and great quantity of dust. We looked
more like black than white men. B  and I went

38
to the water close by, and bathed in a deep pool. It
was a grand thing to me, for I've not done such a
thing since last July. After our bath we took equal
part in a goose chase, and captured one, adding so
much to our larder. When people refuse to sell to
Unionists, I have little scruples as to what means to
adopt, and hereafter our mess will not lack fresh
meat. Mat, I find, has quite a genius that way. But
a matinee at four to-morrow warns me to close."
The rest of the letter has kind remembrances to
friends, and affectionate messages to his family.
On the margin of this letter was pencilled his last
message home :
" Monday, April 7. " Loving you all dearly. If
On the battle-field. I die, my last wish will be that
I could have kissed you first.
" God AND OUR Country."
We have refrained from giving the most beautifully
touching expressions contained in his letters ; they
belong exclusively to those for whom they were
penned. It is unnecessary to furnish any details of the battle
of Pittsburg Landing. These are familiar to those
who have access to the journals of the day. In
Captain Barry's letter, all that specially relates to
the subject of this memoir is graphically told :

39
" Battle-field of Shiloh, Ten'n.j
April 13, 1862.
" Me. Mitchell :
" Sir — It is my painful duty to inform you, per
sonally, of the death of your son, Edward Lewis
Mitchell, First Lieutenant in my Company. He
was killed in the action of the 7th, while acting most
gallantly, by a ball through his temples. We had
made a forced march all day Sunday, with no food
but hard bread. Though the fatigue of all was ex
treme, your son bore his share with the cheerful,
manly fortitude characteristic with him. Although
he had to stay in the open air all night Sunday, ex
posed to the pelting rain, still he was cheerful and
pleasant to all, aiid no word of complaint escaped
him. On leaving the boat, his pleasant words and
sprightly air had a most encouraging effect on the
men ; and that trying time showed me, more plainly
than ever before, what a valuable officer I had. His
air, manner, and words aided greatly in inspiriting
my men in their first attack, through which he passed
safely. Indeed, he seemed the personification of brav
ery during the first action. He was every where
when needed, and the danger had no effect upon him,
other than to make him more active. We drove
back the enemy ; and as we lay resting on the field,

40
at my suggestion, your son and myself re-exchanged
addresses. At the same time, he made a few notes
for future reference, when writing home, as he was
accustomed to do each day's march. These notes
you will find, I think, in his commission case. Soon
after we mutually agreed to offer up, together, thanks
to the Almighty, should we both be spared. Fifteen
or twenty minutes later we were again in action.
The wings of the battalion kept crowding the centre,
so that I stepped back, and reported to Captain
Townsend that it was necessary for the left to take
more room on the left. He replied, ' You go, then,
and tell Captain Crofton (commanding the left com
pany,) to march his company to the left.'
" Mr. Mitchell, who had stepped out with me, when
he heard this, said, ' I'll go, sir ;' and immediately
ran to give the order. He had just stopped speaking
to Captain Crofton, when a ball struck him on the
right vizor of his cap, passing through his temples,
and coming out the left temple, and passing again
through the vizor. He slightly raised his right hand,
and fell without a groan^dead 1
" We left his body there until the action was over ;
then I had it carried and laid decently in a captured
camp. The next day he was buried near Pittsburg
Landing, with his sword resting in his crossed hands.
Being the only officer left, I could not leave my com-

41

pany to bury him, so Lieutenant Kline was detailed
to attend to it. He marked the grave with a board
extending down to the body, and with your son's
name marked on it. I have not yet been able to go
there, but as soon as I can I will, and will send you
on as exact a description of its locality as possible,
so that you may recover the body if you -wish. His
effects I -will send on direct, if I can break through
the red tape of the service.
" Mr. Mitchell, every one in the battalion is pro
foundly grieved at your son's death, and none more
so than the men of his company. To me his loss is
very severe; and I have often found my heart swelling
at the thought of seeing him no more. Still, sir, you
have the consolation of knowing that he fell fighting
gallantly in the defence of his country ; and that, to
the last, he did honor to his country, to his position,
and to his name.
" Any thing further I can do for you, I will be
happy to do ; and should you wish any further infor
mation on any point, please let me know.
" I am, sir, respectfully.
Your obt. servant,
" R. PEABODY BARRY,
Captain Company F.
" J. F. Mitchell, Esq.,
62 Wall Street, New York City."

42

We feel the poverty of words to express the sad
ness which pervaded his large circle of friends, when
the news of his death arrived. The pall which fell
upon that dear home, which he had so longed to visit
once more, it would be sacrilege to attempt to raise.
One of our noble young heroes holding a captaincy
under the brave Kilpatrick, gives utterance to his
sorrow in the following touching words:
" Falmouth, on the Rappahannock, i
" April 24:th, 1862. \
" Mt Dear Uncle: — For the first time in my life,
I attempt to write a letter to any one about another,
who dear to both of us, has left us forever. I do not
know how to do it, but you know that what I want,
is to express to you the love I felt towards dear Ed.
Though we had always loved one another, still the
events of the past year have seemingly rivetted yet
more firmly the chain that bound us together. We
both thought it our duty to join in this war, and we
did so. My fate is not yet known. He has fallen,
fallen nobly, a martyr to a noble cause — a cause so
just, so holy, that surely many sins will be pardoned
in those who devoted their lives to its maintenance,
more especially when, like Ed., they were true sol
diers. He must have been a brave, true soldier — ^who
could be otherwise — who was so cool, so brave, so

43
generous, free-hearted and kind to all? All who
knew him loved him, and what more can I say ? He
was dear to us all, very dear to me; and when the
night before he left home we walked out together, he
said: ' Jack we may not see each other again' — I
could not believe it would be true, yet so it was, sad
as it is."

A meeting of the senior class of Columbia College
Law School, was held May 5th, and the following
resolutions adopted:
Whereas, Lieut. Edward Lewis Mitchell, late a
member of the senior class of Columbia College Law
School, was killed in the battle of Pittsburg Landing,
therefore be it
Besolved, That while admiring his gallantry and
devotion to his country, we express our profound sor
row at his early death.
Besolved, That we respectfully offer to the friends
and members of his family our deepest sympathy in
their bereavement; trusting that his unselfish life, his
strict regard for duty, his devoted patriotism, may in
some slight degree lessen their grief.
Besolved, That the class while paying this tribute
to his worth, feel that they have lost one whose abili-

44
ties and unvarying courtesy, have always commanded
their respect and deep regard.
Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be pre
sented to the family of the deceased, and be published
in the daily papers.
George M. Miller, \
Sidmen p. Keese, >• Committee.
Charles H. Hatch,]

Prof. Dwight on announcing the death of Lieut.
Edward L. Mitchell to his class, (the senior class of
the Columbia College Law School,) read a letter
written by the Captain of his company, to Mr. Mit
chell's father, giving an account of his death, and
speaking in the highest terms of his cheerful disposi
tion, sprightly air and devotedness to duty; after
which, he said:
" This account, as all of you will remember, is
strictly correct. His sprightly air and pleasant
words were cheering to all of us. Goethe tells us,
' a useful life is an early death.' A man like Mr.
Mitchell lives a great deal in a very short time, when he
goes so readily, and fights so gallantly for his country.
I remember very well the last time I saw him, when
he called to ask me for a letter of recommendation

45
that he might obtain his appointment. I felt that he
was exceedingly well qualified for such a position, and
expressed myself in strong language, as I ever do on
such an occasion, of his fitness for the place. On
speaking with him as he went out of the room, I was
struck with the cheerfulness of his whole manner. He
said he intended to complete his studies here, should
he come back, but perhaps he should not see us again;
yet, whatever happened, he intended to do his entire
duty. " This letter shows you how well he has redeemed
his pledge of doing his entire duty. To any one of
us who have to go through life, whether it be for a
longer or a shorter period, whatever we do, or what
ever course we take, to have it said of us that we did
our whole duty as well as Mr. Mitchell seems to have
done his, is all that need be said."
" D. W. Bond.
" N&w York, May 5, 1862. "
From the Kalamazoo (Mich.) Gazette we make the
following extracts, which shows what an affectionate
interest he had inspired in his new friends:
" Of the thousands who have offered up their lives
on "the altar of their country since the commencement
of the present rebellion, there is not one whose death

46

is more sincerely mourned, and whose loss will be
more deeply felt by a wide circle of friends, than the
subject of this communication. In view of the high
regard and unqualified esteem in which Lieut. Mitch
ell was held by all who knew him; the warm and
intimate friendships which he contracted during his
brief stay in this village, and the shock which the
intelligence of his early and sudden decease caused
in this community; apart from the fact that he died
while nobly striving to sustain his country's honor,
and that in her defence he unselfishly poured out his
life's blood, it will not, we trust, be considered inap
propriate that this brief tribute to his memory, to
gether with the particulars of his untimely death,
should be given to those in whose hearts he had
found a resting-place so secure, that even death and
the lapse of years cannot efface it.
" He was kind-hearted and generous to a fault, and
there was no personal sacrifice to which he would
not cheerfully submit in order to oblige others. In
all his dealings with his fellows he was actuated by
the highest principles of integrity and justice. A
gentleman by instinct and education, he scorned to
do any act that would tend, in the slightest degree,
to wound the feelings of those with whom he came
in contact. Attentive to his duties, and prompt and

47
thorough in their discharge, he lost no opportunity
to advance the cause in which he was engaged, and
to fulfill the object of his mission here. Although of
a sociable disposition and deservedly a favorite in
society, he never forgot or neglected his business in
the pursuit of pleasure. Beneath a gay and appa
rently careless exterior, there ran a vein of deep and
serious thought, and the religious teachings of his
earlier years had not been thrown away. He was
strictly conscientious in all his actions, and never
spoke lightly of holy subjects. An only son, he
seemed to be fully conscious of the hopes that were
centered in him; and although removed from the ten
der and restraining influences of home, appeared
resolved that neither word nor deed of his should
inflict pain upon the loved ones, who were there
watching his career with such anxious solicitude.
" His letters from the seat of war were written in
the most cheerful strain, and invariably expressed a
desire to be placed in a position where he could, in
the presence of danger, do his share towards the sup
pression of rebellion. In a letter the writer received
from him a short time previous to the battle of Pitts
burg, he said :
¦" ' At last we are mo-ring. A grand battle is, to all
appearance, on the tapis, and I am to have a part in

48

it — a great joy to me. Our only thought now must
be of victory; defeat is only to be conceived when
accomplished. Nashville is ours, and our noble flag
once more floats proudly over that city. It is strange
and very hard to realize that six days more will
probably bring me into battle; but in whatever cir
cumstances I may be placed, I shall endeavor to do
my duty.'
" How gallantly that duty was performed is fully
set forth in the subjoined letter from Capt. Barry to
the affiicted father of Lieut. Mitchell. When he
died the soul of a brave sl.. 'ier, an honest patriot, a
dutiful son, and a true friend returned to Him who
gave it."
AjDril 29th, 1862.
As- soon as the necessary arrangements could be
made, his two cousins, Edward and Ernest, sons of
Judge Mitchell and of Edward E. Mitchell, Esq., of
Flushing, set out for Shiloh, where, after much dis
couragement and detention, they discovered the
grave, and returned to the city with all that remained
on earth of their loved companion. On the 5th of
May the funeral took place at St. Luke's Church,
which was crowded with deeply-sympathizing friends.
The glorious flag, which that youthful martyr had

49

given his life to defend, covered the coffin, and on it,
formed of white flowers — emblems of his purity —
rested the holy symbol of sacrifice and triumph.
The Rev. Dr. Tuttle, the devoted Rector of St.
Luke's Church, delivered an address, from -which we
make a few extracts:
" As indicative of his affectionate nature, animated
and directed liy the spirit of Christianity, and as
strikingly illustrating his recognized membership
with the family and with Christ, we would repeat
his own words to an afflicted cousin: ' You know
better than I can tell you, that He who hath taken
her to himself, is better than any earthly comforter;
and that through the great love of Him who died, suf
fering, that we might live, we shall so live as to be
worthy to dwell in His kingdom, with those gone to
Him and those who are to follow us.' Perhaps a
fairer specimen could not be found than the letter
quoted from, as illustrating how the sweetness of our
holy religion has permeated his being, and how, at its
vital springs, he drew those consolations and invigor
ating draughts, which so softened his spirit and inten
sified his character.
" But the day arrived, when as an officer in the
army, he mu-t leave the places he so sacredly cherish
ed. On the morning of his departure he devoted
3

50
himself afresh to his God and his church, in the
solemn participation of the blessed sacrament.
"That Sunday morning will continue fresh in the
recollection of many. When he wrote ' God and our
Country,' he clearly defined his sense of his relative
duties. No one had gone from our midst who more
soberly and understandingly realized, that if one
would now serve his God, he must serve his Country."
In the morning of life, with all that could make life
bright and beautiful, our beloved friend has passed^
away, but not till he had won a crown of glory that
shall never fade.
It has been said that " he was generous to a fault."
This is high praise in the young; for experience will
reduce such surplus to its proper proportions, but no
amount of experience can transform meanness into
generosity. His reverence for parental authority — considera
tion for the weakness of others — great purity of feel
ing, which prevented him from countenancing an in
delicacy even under cover of a joke — his calm,
thoughtful deportment, which often elicited a jocular
reprimand from his more impulsive friends, form a
striking contrast to the fast young men of the present
day.

51

As no character can be consistently great, unless it
be founded on religious convictions, what might not
have been expected from one whose mind even amidst
the din of battle, could calmly soar into a sphere of
the holiest affections and aspirations.
Oh I may those costly sacrifices not be in vain; but
may the blot on our country's escutcheon be washed
out by this baptism of blood, and she, purified and re
generated, be no longer a hissing and a by-word
among Nations.

52

lines suggested by the following occuerence:
His father was trying to soothe the heart-broken
mother, by whispering — " God is with you" — she
started, and exclaimed ! " The very words Edward
has just spoken to me."
Hark ! — Heavenly strains fall on my ear.
They whisper love, and trust, and cheer.
Hush beating heart ! — that I may hear !
" God is -with you, mother dear."
Mother ! — then ah, 'tis he, my boy !
My rainbow child ! my hope ! my joy !
Oh, the voice can be no other —
" God is with you, dearest mother."
¦With me! — the crush'd and brolceu-hearted —
From whom e'en Faith has almost parted! —
Great words to be forgotten never —
" God is -with you, mother; ever."
No more I'll grope in mad despair
Among the tombs — he is not there:
But led by that sweet strain,
Soar upward to his home above,
Where dwells the All-embracing Love,
And never, never weep again.
E'en there the comforter I'll hear —
"God is with you, mother dear.''