hat a
young Captain of a Maine regiment laid in it very sick; we went in,
no door obstructing, and there upon a stretcher in a corner of the
room opening directly upon the road lay an elegant-looking youth
struggling with the last great enemy. His mind wandered; and as we
approached him he exclaimed: 'Is it not cruel to keep me here when
my mother and sister, whom I have not seen for a year, are in the
next room; they might let me go in?' His mind continued to wander;
only for an instant did he seem to have a glimpse of the reality,
when he drew two rings from his finger, placed there by a loving
mother and sister, handed them to an attendant, saying: 'Carry them
home,' and then he was amid battle scenes, calling out, 'Deploy to
the left;' 'Keep out of that ambuscade;' 'Now go, my braves, double
quick, and strike for your flag! On, on,' and he threw up his arms
as if cheering them, 'you'll win the day;' and so he continued to
talk, whilst death was doing its terrible work. As we looked upon
the beautiful face and manly form, and thought of the mother and
sister in their distant home, surrounded by every luxury wealth
could purchase, worlds seemed all too cheap to give to have him
with them. But this could not be. The soldier of three battles, he
was not willing to admit that he was sick until his strength
failed, and he was actually dying. He was carried to this cheerless
room, a rude table the only furniture; no door, no window-shutters;
the western sun threw its hot rays in upon him,--no cooling shade
for his fevered brow: and so he lay unconscious of the monster's
grasp, which would not relax until he had done his work. His last
expressions told of interest in his men. He was a graduate of
Waterville College. Twenty of his company graduated at the same
institution. He was greatly beloved; his death, even in this
Golgotha, was painfully impressive. There was no time to talk to
him of that spirit-land upon which he was so soon to enter.
Whispered a few verses of Scripture into his ear; he looked with a
sweet smile and thanked me, but his manner betokened no
appreciation of the sacred words. He was an only son. His mother
and sister doted on him. He had everything to bind him to life, but
the mandate had gone forth."

Of the scenes of the retreat f