e
stood within sight of the green sward that had been reddened with the
blood of those that had fought for and upheld it, methought the angels
might pause to hear it, for it was a sacred song--the song of freedom to
the captive, of hope to the oppressed of all nations. Since then, it
seems almost profane to sing it with thoughtlessness or frivolity. After
a touching farewell, I stepped into the ambulance, surrounded by a crowd
of the brave fellows. The last sound that reached my ears was cheers for
the Sanitary Commission, and the women at home. I soon reached the
regimental hospital, where lay the wounded color-bearers. As I entered
the tent, the surgeon met me and said, 'I'm so glad you've come, for
R---- has been calling for you all day,' As I took his parched, feverish
hand, he said, 'Oh! take me home to my wife and little ones to die,'
There he lay, as noble a specimen of vigorous manhood as I had ever
looked upon. His great, broad chest heaved with emotion, his dark eyes
were brilliant with fever, his cheeks flushed with almost the hue of
health, his rich brown hair clustering in soft curls over his massive
forehead, it was difficult to realize that he was entering the portals
of eternity. I walked across the tent to the doctor, and asked if he
could go with me. He shook his head, and said before midnight he would
be at rest. I shrank from his eager gaze as I approached him. 'What does
he say?' he asked quickly. 'You can't be moved.' The broad chest rose
and fell, his whole frame quivered. There was a pause of a few minutes.
He spoke first, and said, 'Will you take my message to her?' 'I will,' I
said, 'if I go five hundred miles to do it,' 'Take her picture from
under my pillow, and my children's also. Let me see it once more.' As I
held them for him, he looked earnestly, and then said, 'Tell her not to
fret about me, for we shall meet in heaven. Tell her 'twas all right
that I came. I don't regret it, and she must not. Tell her to train
these two little boys, that we loved so well, to go to heaven to us, and
tell her to bear my loss like a soldier's wife and a Christian.' He was
exhausted by the effort. I sat beside him till his consciousness was
gone, repeating God's precious promises. As the sun went to rest that
night, he slept in his Father's bosom."

Early in January, 1864, another Council of women connected with the
Branch Commissions, Aid Societies, and general work of Supply, assembled
in Washington, and