Sunday morning last, a man named Simon Garnett, belonging to Capt. Horn's volunteer company, now stationed at Uniontown, Pa., was terribly injured by a large elk belonging to the Agricultural Society, and which, with two others of the female species, and several deer, had been running at large on the fair grounds near the above borough. The old elk, from the first introduction of the soldiers, had shown unmistakable signs of rebellion, squealing vehemently every few minutes, and shaking his enormous horns whenever anyone approached him. The first sight of the American flag made him furious, and plainly indicated that he was a traitor of the bloodiest stripe. He was accordingly watched with considerable caution, and sensible persons kept out of his way. Sunday last, Garnett approached him, and but that assistance was at hand his death would have been inevitable. As it was he received a frightful wound on his thigh and his body badly bruised. The poor old elk was not long in suffering the penalty of his pugnacity. He was executed on the spot, skinned and quartered, and his flesh divided among the volunteers.
A shell from a federal gunboat at Fort Donelson passed over the place, and struck a lawyer in Dover - a mile and a half off - depriving him of that indispensable requisite for a member of the legal profession - his head.
At Yorktown a soldier named Corporal Tucker was injured under remarkable circumstance. The shot, in passing, did not strike him, but the velocity of the missile raised a swelling on his breast, and bereft the poor man of his speech. The doctors think that he will regain his utterance.
A farmer named Dean in the town of Westfield, Mass., had two sons who were engaged in the late battle of Williamsburg, one of whom was killed and the other lost one of his eyes during the engagement. The day on which Mr. Dean heard of the fate of his sons he was thrown from his wagon and had both his legs fractured.
A Sailor Devoured By A Shark - The Boston Journal has received a letter from James R. Wheeling, Acting Master of the U.S.S. Kearsage, from which the following is an extract: "I am sorry to inform you that on the evening of the 18th of this month, while our crew were in the water bathing, one of them by the name of Edward Tibbetts, born in Maine, and about 20 years old, was attacked by a ground shark, and , although the poor fellow fought the monster bravely, before our boat could reach the spot the shark secured his prize by grasping him by the left side, crushing in his ribs and bearing him to the bottom. It was a horrid sight - a hundred and fifty of Tibbetts shipmates looking at him and within ten yards, but unable to render him any assistance. He was a noble fellow and we regret him much."
At New Madrid some members of Co. B, 51st Illinois, were playing with a Rebel bomb shell, which had failed to explode, when some powder fell out of it, and one of them carelessly set fire to the train thus falling on the ground, which communicated with the shell, causing it to explode, and resulting in the death of two persons, one instantly and the other the next morning.
After the battle of Newbern, a wounded soldier named Rufus Petty came near being buried alive. The surgeon had examined and pronounced him dead, but his companions discovered just as they were about lowering him into the grave that his heart was faintly beating. He suddenly recovered.
The funeral of Sergeant Charles Lewis, of Canterbury, Ct. At the same time was buried the daughter of the Rev. N.B. Hyde, a bright girl of twenty-one, betrothed to Lewis. She sickened upon hearing of his death, and soon after died.
Capt. Sweet, while shooting at a mark with another officer, at White River Junction on the 23rd, accidently put a bullet into his friends head. The wound was not immediately mortal, and hopes are felt for the mans recovery.
A 60 pound shell, buried in a bank opposite Quantico, was dug out by some of Gen. Sickles men and emptied of its powder, as was supposed. A boyish curiosity to make a fiz within induced the insertion of a live coal. A fatal explosion followed, killing the pyrotechnist, John Rowse, Company E, 3d Regiment, Excelsior Brigade, and severely wounded Michael Dailey in the leg and face, Dan Donahue of Company E, in the shoulder, and Martin Boyden of Company D. Seven others were slightly wounded.
A gentleman from Westchester County reports that he lost three sons and two nephews in the Tammany Regiment at the battle near Leesburg.
A Fort Pickens correspondant of the Philadelphia Press says that in scouring the island (Santa Rosa) after the retreat, a dead officer was found - stone dead - with sword, & c. all complete. On examination no wound could be discerned, except one down the throat, which was redolent with "Cognac", and an empty bottle by his side told the tale. He is now alive and well a prisoner, and rejoices in the name of Capt. John Davis, of the Alabama Second Regiment, and is said to be a full cousin of Jeff Davis.
Corporal Jones, of Philadelphia, belonging to Company A, Penn. 30th, was shot at Nottingham on the day of the election by the Orderly Sergeant. He disobeyed orders. The ball entered near the eye, and death immediately ensued.
Two rather similar cases of remarkable escape from living burial are related as having occurred subsequently to the battle of Fair Oaks. The body of a colonel was found on the field and brought in. Arrangements were made for embalming it. The process includes the one of galvanism. The shock was given. To the astonishment of all the colonel rose and walked forth. The other case was also that of a colonel who was found dead on the field. In deference to his rank, he was brought to the hospital and laid among the dead. His friends prepared to give him a decent burial, and were about to carry the body out, when the colonel rolled over, and, in tones more like those of a man drunk than dead, called out: "Ben, John, where is my flask?"
A dispatch from New York states that five brothers in the 5th Vermont regiment, of the name Clayton, were all killed in the recent Virginia battles.
Three fathers from Indiana heard that their sons were killed at Murfreesboro. They lived in the same neighborhood, and were proceeding, with metallic coffins, to bring home the bodies, when, on stopping at Clarksville, the "old folks" met the boys "alive and kicking". They had a jolly time, and coffins were not used.
A letter from the army before Vicksburg says that the camp of the 76th Ohio was struck by lightning on Saturday night, and Sergeant Streetman and Corporal Rose were killed. Five others were injured.
It is stated that after the battle of Belmont, a wounded man, with both legs nearly shot off, was found in the woods singing the "Star Spangled Banner". But for this circumstance, the surgeons say they would not have discovered him.
A sick Wisconsin soldier in Baltimore it was thought had given up the ghost last week. He was laid out, put into a handsome, comfortable, snug coffin, and made no objection whatever until they began to screw down the lid, when he rose in his cerements and remonstrated against burying a man alive. He was uncoffined and put upon trial for preventing a funeral which his superior officer had ordered.
On Tuesday of last week, two members of Co. F., 20th Regt. N.Y.S.M., named Henry Taft and John Collins, both of Rondout, while during picket duty near Aquia Creek, Va., engaged in a quarrel, and, upon the spur of the moment, seized their bayonets and fought the matter out. Taft was killed, and Collins is now in irons awaiting trial for murder.
In Montpelier, Vermont, not long since, a young man enlisted for the war and was reported killed in battle. His remains were sent for and brought home for burial. The funeral was held and gravestones were placed at his grave. But to the great joy of his parents, in due time their lamented son made his appearance, stout and well, and looking anything but being buried. Such is the romance of war.
A man named Green, visited Catskill, learning that two coffins had just arrived containing the bodies of soldiers killed at the second battle of Bull Run, he went to view the remains. On raising the lid, to his horror he discovered the remains of his two brothers, one killed by a cannon ball and the other by a musket ball. They had been members of an Albany regiment, and were slain at nearly the same moment on that fatal field. This was Mr. Green's first intimation of their sad fate.
A soldier in one of the hospitals, who had lost one of his arms was rejoicing over the fact. Said he: "My grandfather lost a leg in the Revolutionary War, and our family has been bragging about it ever since. That story is an old one, and now I am going to be the hero of the family."
A widow lady of the neighborhood received information that her son had been killed, and that in burying him particular pains had been taken to mark his grave. As the information came from the Captain of his company there was no reason to doubt its correctness. The old lady and her family mourned and were in desolation; they made efforts to obtain the body. Three months passed by, and owing to the commotions where he was said to have died it could not be obtained. But while those things were going on the young man a few days since came home alive and well, like one risen from the dead. One can easily imagine the change that came to the disconsolate mother and the mourning household. The son had been a prisoner.
The grandson of Noah Webster, the lexicographer, was killed before Richmond in the Rebel service. His mother was a Virginian and a relative of Gen. Lee. He had a brother in the same battle on the Federal side.
The death of Major McCook furnishes some melancholy coincidences in the history of his family in connection with the war. His youngest son, Charles, was killed at the battle of Bull Run, on the 21st day of July, 1861; his son, Col. Robert McCook, was killed on the 21st day of July, 1862, and the father himself was killed on the 21st day of July, 1863.
Commander Abner Reed, who fell mortally wounded at the battle of Donaldsonville, when told that he could not live but a few hours, very composedly remarked, "Well doctor, I don't know as there is any use of holding on any longer - I guess I'll shove off," and immediately expired.
I was conversing not long since with a returned volunteer.
"I was in the hospital as a nurse for a long time," said he, "and assisted in taking off limbs, and dressing all sorts of wounds; but the hardest thing I ever did was to take my thumb off a man's leg."
"Ah!" said I, "how was that?" Then he told me:
"It was a young man who had a severe wound in the thigh. The ball passed completely through, and amputation was necessary. The limb was cut off close up to the body, the arteries taken up, and he seemed to be doing well. Subsequently one of the small arteries sloughed off. An incision was made, and it was again taken up. 'It is well it was not the main artery,' said the surgeon as he performed the operation, he might have bled to death before we could have taken it up.' But Charley got on finely and was a favorite with us all.
I was passing through the ward one night about midnight, when suddenly, as I was passing Charley's bed, he spoke to me: 'H___, my leg is bleeding again.' I threw back the bed-clothes, and the blood spurted in the air. The main artery had sloughed off.
Fortunately I knew just what to do, and in an instant I had pressed my thumb on the place and stopped the bleeding. It was so close to the body that there was barely room for my thumb, but I succeeded in keeping it there, and arousing one of the convalescants, sent him for the surgeon, who came on the run. 'I am so thankful H___' said he, as he saw me,'that you were up and knew what to do, for he must have bled to death before I could have got here.'
But on examination of the case, he looked exceedingly serious and sent for other surgeons. All came that were within reach, and a consultation was held over the poor fellow. One conclusion was reached by all. There was no place to work save the spot where my thumb was placed; they could not work under my thumb, for if I moved it he would bleed to death before the artery could be taken up. There was no way to save his life.
Poor Charley! He was very calm when they told him, and requested that his brother, who was in the same hospital, might be called up. He came and sat down by the bedside, and for three hours I stood, and by the pressure of my thumb kept up the life of Charley, while the brothers had their last conversation on earth. It was a strange place for me to be in, to feel that I held the life of a fellow mortal in my hands, as it were, and stranger yet, to feel that an act of mine must cause that life to depart. Loving the poor fellow as I did, it was a hard thought; but there was no alternative.
The last words were spoken, Charley had arranged all his business affairs and sent messages to absent ones, who little dreamed how near their loved one stood to the grave. The tears filled my eyes more than once as I listened to those parting words. All was said and he turned to me, 'Now, H___, I guess you had better take off your thumb.' 'Oh, Charley! how can I?' I said. 'But it must be, you know,' he replied cheerfully - 'I thank you very much for your kindness, and now, good bye.'
He turned away his head, I raised my thumb, once more the life current gushed forth, and in three minutes poor Charley was dead."
A soldier in one of the New Hampshire regiments was reported killed in the battle at Fredricksburg, and his wife soon after made arrangements to obtain a pension. The necessary papers were all made out and duly certified, and were about to be transmitted to Washington, when she received a letter from him announcing that he was alive and well.
It is stated by manufacturers of artificial limbs that they make eight left legs for soldiers to two right, and about the same proportion of right arms to left ones, showing that about four times as many lose left legs as right, and four right ones to one left. This seems very singular, but an agent for the sale of artificial limbs affirms it to be actual fact.
One day last week a lady living in this county; a few miles from the city, brought a parcel to one of the express offices to forward to her husband in the army. It contained some articles that she had carefully prepared with her own hands. Her two little children were with her. The clerk looked at the name and address and turned away to hide his emotion. That very morning one of those ominous boxes which crowd our trains from the South had arrived with the name upon it which was upon the parcel. The remains of the husband and father were at that moment at the depot. The shock to the poor lady was terrible.
One of the unexploded shells at Pilot Knob, Mo., a few days ago came into possession of a party of four children, one of whom attempted to extract the fuse by driving it out with a hammer. He exploded the shell in his effort, killing himself and two of his playmates instantly, and mortally wounding the other one.
Insanity, induced by exposure is prevalent in the western armies. Twenty five insane soldiers were sent to Cincinnati a few days since.
An Irish family in Colchester, Conn., were very much disturbed the other day by seeing their husband and father enter the house, as they had a few days before paid $150 for the transportation home of his body from the army, and had buried him with many tears. It took some time for the live Irishman to convince his family that he was not a ghost, and then they exhumed the dead body and sent it back to the army, fearing it might be the body of a rebel soldier.
A story is told of the colonels of two regiments engaged at Missionary Ridge. They had been classmates and chums at Waterville College, Maine, but when the war broke out one went with the South and the other remained true to the Union. They were both mortally wounded in this battle, and after fighting was over a mutual friend found them lying side by side on the battlefield, with their right hands clasped, and both dead. They had evidently recognized each other after being wounded, and the old ties of friendship had asserted their supremacy, and together their spirits had passed into the eternal world. Side by side, in the same grave, they sleep their last sleep.
A soldier was brought from Norfolk to Baltimore in a traveling trunk a few days ago by a German woman. Suspicion being excited, the trunk was opened and the man was found dead. The woman confessed she was aiding the man to desert in this way. He had been in the trunk several days and slept there rather comfortably, but it is supposed he finally suffocated or was either killed by the trunk beinmg carelessly knocked about or was frozen to death.
On Saturday Sergeant Charles Victor, a recruiting officer at Cleveland, Ohio, shot and killed a man who came into his office and insulted him.
A Christian Commission brother was congratulating a wounded man upon the fact that he owed the salvation of his life to a pocket testament which happily intervened between the rebel bullet and his short ribs. He promised to give the soldier another testament and hoped it would be instrumental in saving not only his life but his soul. His remarks were overheard by a New Yorker who was suffering from a slight, but smarting wound in the side, and expressed himself as follows: "Look here partner, if it had not been for a euchere deck I don't know where I'd have been. It didn't hurt much, but it knocked the Ace of Spades and the King of Hearts higher than a kite. Can't you get a feller a new pack?"
Here is a remarkable family affliction: Mrs. Geo. W. Harvey of Portland, Me. recently lost in one week her husband, father and brother. Her husband was a captain in the Third Maine Regiment and was mortally wounded in the recent battles, and while her brother, a soldier in the same regiment, was helping to carry him to the rear he was also shot and instantly killed.
Capt. Fred A. Cummings, Co.M 18th Maine, was struck on his side by a musket bullet in the battle of Spotsylvania. Luckily a thick double cased watch occupied his pocket at the precise spot where the shot hit him; it was shattered to fragments and Capt. C. was knocked down and rendered senseless, in which condition he was borne from the field, but he soon recovered his senses and as he was injured only by the shock, he rallied and immediately returned to the battlefield and fought five hours. He is only 23 years of age and had never been in a fight before.
Lieutenant Ensworth, Fourth Vermont, who was killed by a spent ball from one of our own batteries, exclaimed on being shot: "I am killed - remember to tell my folks that though I was shot in the back, it was by our own guns."
A soldier from the Army of the Potomac passed through Springfield, Mass. a few days ago, homeward bound, who had fifteen wounds. He lay two or three days on the battlefield, wounded and unable to get away, between the lines of fire of the two sides and the larger number of wounds were in that position.
A Richmond paper says that in the fight near Coal Harbor a solid shell struck General Breckinridge's horse in the breast and passed out back of the stirrup leather and between the General's legs. In nautical phrase that would pass for "a shot between wind and water."
A terrible accident occurred at the Charleston Navy Yard yesterday. A workman was engaged in drilling out the fuse of an old shell when it exlpoded, instantly killing four and wounding all the men in the yard, some of them fatally.
Patrick Hayes of Greenfield, Mass. was supposed to be dead and his estate was administered upon and ready to be distributed, but that part was postponed because it was learned that Patrick was at Andersonville and proposed to come home and settle his own affairs.
As a striking instance of the power of music on the body, is the
following, related by a venerable American Judge:
The morning following the battle of Yorktown I had the curiosity to attend the dressing of the wounded. Among others whose limbs were so much injured as to require amputation was a musician who had received a musket ball in the knee. As is usual in such cases, preparations were made to lash him down to the table to prevent the possibility of his moving. Says the sufferer, "Now doctor, what would you be at?" "My lad, I am going to take off your leg and it is necessary you should be lashed." "I'll submit to no such thing; you may pluck the heart from my bosom but you will not confine me. Is there a fiddle in camp? If so, bring it to me." A violin was furnished, and after tuning it he said: "Now, doctor, begin." And he continued to play until the operation, which took about forty minutes, was completed, without missing a note or moving a muscle.
A very singular war incident was noted in the Tenth Massachusetts Regiment a few days since. A Sergeant had been engaged in the Second Division Hospital the day previous in placing upon a number of headboards the names of members of his regiment who had been killed in the late fight or had died in battle, which were to mark their last resting place. There was one board in excess and in a sportive vein he placed with a lead pencil his own name upon it, and the date of demise, 20th of June as his term of service had then expired and he was about to leave for home. The next morning, while near the front bidding his companions in other regiments a farewell, he was struck in the breast by a twenty-pounder Parrott shell and instantly killed. His remains were interred and the very headboard he had unthinkingly inscribed with his own name was placed over his grave, and with the date correctly marks for a time his resting place.
Of four hundred soldiers that recently passed through Portland, one hundred and thirty had each lost a leg.
General McPherson who was killed near Atlanta on Friday was engaged to be married to a beautiful and accomplished young lady of Baltimore. The dispatch announcing his death by accident fell into her hands on its arrival. It was addressed to her mother, who not being able to see well without her glasses, passed it to the daughter engaed to the deceased to read. Seeing it recorded his death, she instantly fainted. The scene was peculiarly distressing.
The Chattanooga Gazette states that lightening struck Camp Fuller near Rossville, Ga. July 14, killing and wounding fifteen soldiers, besides killing and injuring several teams of horses.
A soldier of the Second Veteran Cavalry, by the name of Charles Welsh from Schuylerville, was found dead at the Pavillion Spring at Saratoga one day last week. His head and one arm were within the curb. It is said that he went with a pitcher to get some water and it is supposed that while reaching down within the curb he was overpowered with the gas escaping from the spring and died immediately. Coroner Barrett was called and held an inquest. The jury found the facts substantially as above. He left his aunt’s house with a pitcher at about half past six o’clock and was found dead about fifteen minutes after. An experiment was made at the request of the jury with a chicken which was killed by holding it inside the curb for half a minute.
Col. Fred Townsend, Provost Marshal of Albany, met with an accident last week at the Watervliet Arsenal. He was explaining the operation of a new musket ball machine to Col. Sheppard when his finger was cut off by a cog wheel which he had incautiously touched.
A singular accident occurred at Minestown in the state of Illinois on Thursday of last week. A reenlisted regiment of veterans had just arrived on their way to the front and one of them was showing a new recruit the drill, when, by accident, the gun which he was using was discharged, the shot proving fatal to three soldiers. The ball first entered the forehead and passed through the head of the recruit, next through the chest of the second soldier and then through the abdomen of a third. The first and last one that was struck died immediately. The second lived until the following day when he also expired.
A freshet occurred in front of Petersburg on the night of the 15th, so sudden and violent in its character that a large number of tents were washed away and not less than 14 soldiers were drowned while asleep.
Capt. Newhall, formerly of the Third Pennsylvania Cavalry, but at the time of his death Acting Adjutant General on General Gregg’s staff was drowned last night while crossing a small creek this side of the Rappahannock. He had just been to headquarters to have his leave of absence signed, and was returning to his headquarters when the said accident occurred.
A correspondent of the Springfield Republican says that the surgery of Sherman's army is reaching an extraordinary high scale as weapons reach perfection. Men wounded in the head or neck are fed for weeks through silver or rubber tubes. A man whose throat had been cut in a most dreadful manner was fed for weeks through a hole made by the surgeon in his chest! He was fat and hearty and would quickly be at his duty. Such is the progress made by the medical department that half a man's face demolished by a ball or a piece of shell is replaced by a cork face and it will be nothing strange to see men in after years walking our streets with cork heads.
The Seventh New York and Thirty Eighth Ohio veteran recruits are homeward bound on a furlough of thirty days. Of three hundred recruits from Springfield on their way here, on the night of the 6th instant, a large number were rendered insensible by drugged liquor prepared by three men who enlisted for the purpose of robbing them. They succeeded in taking away nearly one thousand dollars in cash besides watches and other valuables. One recruit died from the effects of the poison. The robbers left the cars between Centralia and Cairo.
The cabin of the steamer Magnet recently captured and recaptured on the Cumberland River, was the scene of a rather extraordinary incident. The chambermaid, a resident of this city (Cincinnati) named Rebecca Mitchell, was accompanied by her son, who, during the trip repeatedly cautioned his mother to lie down upon the floor if the enemy fired upon them. When the cannonading opened, Mrs. Whetmore, the wife of the Captain, was in the cabin raising her feet on the round of a table at which she was sitting. The first shot, a ball from a six pound rifled gun, passed through the cabin, tore up the floor under her chair, and glancing, struck the chambermaid on the forehead, killing her instantly. Just at that moment the lad above mentioned entered to look after his mother and, finding her on the floor, said “that’s right mother” and lay down by her side. When the firing ceased he was found in this position, his arms lovingly and protectingly thrown about his dead parent, all unconscious that the life about which he was so solicitous had fled forever. Mrs. Whetmore escaped injury, perhaps death, by the fact that her feet were not upon the floor. The attack upon our transport was particularly fatal to the chambermaids, not one of whom escaped – two, those belonging to the Prima Donna and Prairie State – being killed by shells from the gunboat Carondelet, and the one we have named above becoming the victim of the rebel fire.
A young man named Charles Johnson in New York, who had been very despondent since the murder of the President on Tuesday, said “I’m going to follow Abraham Lincoln.” Soon after his mother saw him brandishing a razor and before she could secure help he had severed his carotid artery and was a corpse.
Near Petersburg a rebel officer is said to have been blown two hundred feet into the air and come down inside of our lines without a scratch or bruise. That was a tremendous “blow”.
Lieut. James Hewison, formerly of the Fifth Connecticut regiment, and who had received honourable wounds in the service, was killed in a singular manner at New Haven, Conn. On Saturday. He was walking under a large flag hung across the street, when a sudden gust of wind detached a six pound iron weight which fell on his head and crushed his skull, killing him instantly. He leaves a wife and three children in Bridgeport.
The Press today says a terrible explosion occurred near Bridgeport. A train of twenty army wagons laden with ammunition had camped near the city for the night. Two negroes quarreled, one of whom seized a shell which he accidentally let fall among the ammunition. Immediately wagon after wagon caught fire, the teamsters and attendants flying for their lives. Later reports say there are nine or ten killed and double that number wounded. The fire finally reached the magazine.
Not many months ago there arrived at a Confederate port, upon one of the most notable of our blockade runners, a very unassuming woman - scarce such indeed, for she was hardly out of her teens - of an extremely handsome person. She had come to Nassau from Paris and sailed thence for the South. She brought with her an abundant supply of clothing and sufficiency of means to last her two or three years at the present rates of living. Her object in visiting this country was to discover the fate of an only brother, a colonel in our service, who had placed her at Geneys at school when the war began. She had not heard from him during six months, became anxious, and finally set out upon her long and perilous journey. Her anxiety proved to be well founded. Her brother had been killed at Gettysburg and she found herself alone and a stranger in her native land. She went first to Augusta, then to Mobile where she lost a trunk containing all her gold. At this critical juncture of affairs she met a very handsome field officer - fell in love - engaged first in flirtation, then in amour - and accompanied him as far as Atlanta on his way to the front. He fell at Chickamauga. What her life has become you can guess. She died last week and was tumbled into the ground in the public cemetery.
At the time of the explosion on board the Great Eastern a curious fact was noticed; those who were most hurt and who first died seemed the least injured when they first appeared above deck, and were even able to walk aft without assistance. On this point a writer in the London Times says "A man blown up by gunpowder is a mere figure of raw flesh which seldom moves after the explosion. Not so with men blown up by steam, who, for a few minutes are able to walk about, apparently unhurt, though in fact mortally injured beyond all hope of recovery. This was so with one or two, who, as they emerged from below, walked aft with that indescribable expression on their faces only resembling intense astonishment; and a certain faltering of the gait and movements like one who walks in his sleep. Where not begrimed by the smoke or ashes, the peculiar bright, soft whiteness of the face, hands or breast told at once that the skin, though unbroken, had in fact, been broiled by steam. One man walked along with the movement and look I have endeavored to describe and seemed quite unconscious that the flesh of his thighs (most probably by the ashes in the furnace) was burnt in deep holes. To some one who came to his assistance he said quietly: 'I am all right, there are others worse than me; go look after them.' The poor man was the first to die. He expired quietly as if falling into a refreshing sleep."
A raw recruit at Fort Adams, Newport, on the 8th instant, ate three pounds of candy, twelve pies and two cans (four pounds) of preserved peaches. At two o'clock next morning he was a dead boy. He belonged in Providence and was fifteen years old.
One of the wounded rebel soldiers thought he was about to die and feeling that he had many sins to answer for, he requested that a minister should be sent to him. The Rev. Mr. H., a rebel parson, was called in. Sitting down beside the wounded man, and assuming all the sacerdotal airs, he gravely said: "My friend, in what state was your mind when you first felt that you would like to be baptised?" Feebly and dolorously the feeble man replied: "Ar-kan-saw!" The divine was instantly disgusted and, rising from the sick bed in great indignation, said: "Shucks! that fellow don't know enough to go to heaven!" and left the room.
Hospital Gazette, printed at Armory Square, Washington, has the following
paragraph in relation to a flag quilt:
It was made in Portland, Maine and upon many of the white stripes there are copied patriotic sentences and lines of poetry which make the whole a very interesting study to the sick soldier who has a good fortune to lie under it. We say good fortune for we believe when a soldier is particularly patriotic and meritorious, the quilt is called for and spread upon his bed! Last evening we found it upon a soldier in Ward F who we are sure bears his suffering with a cheerful, merry heart at any rate, "putting the best foot forward" as they say, in all cases. He was wounded at Rappahannock Station, but possessing in common with many other brave soldiers a great modesty, we could not win from him the especial titles to valor and patriotism which had procured him the quilt. We doubt if one quilt of this kind is enough to go the rounds of all the beds where the brave ones lie. We think many of the friends at home who are stitching and sewing for the soldiers in the hospital could repeat this idea with advantage.
The Monticello Watchman says that James Price of Fallsburgh enlisted last fall through fear of the draft and died in the hospital of homesickness.
Dr. Hoxley of Goshen received a week or two ago a telegraphic dispatch saying that his son of the 2nd artillery was "no more". The excitement and reaction had such an effect on the doctor that he fell sick and died four days later.
Some drunken fellows in a house near Covington, Ky. a few days ago, poured liquor on one of their companions and set him on fire "for fun". He was too much stupefied by drink to help himself and was so badly burned that he died.
A lady recently wrote from England to the War Department, Washington, requesting them to send her all the names of the men who had been killed in this war so she could see if her son John Smith was among them.
At New Haven on the 11th last, John Eslay, a returned soldier of the 13th Connecticut Volunteers was killed by John Donnelly, a town pauper. There was a dispute about the payment for some liquor when Donnelly seized a butcher knife and plunged it through the heart of Eslay.
A gross outrage has been perpetuated on officers wounded in the fight on Saturday who have come to Washington. They are charged seven dollars for passage, a dollar and a half for berth, and a dollar for each meal, and, it is said, that some officers who were badly wounded were left on the wharf at City Point because they had no money to pay their fare on the mail boat, a government transport.
Irish Soldier who was severely wounded in the left breast at Bull Run, gave a
reply to the doctor who was attending him which in brevity, pathos and humor is
Doctor - "You're very badly hurt my man."
Irishman - "I feel as if I was, sorr."
Doctor - "The wonder to me is that the bullet didn't strike your heart."
Irishman - "It couldn't sorr, for me heart wasn't in it's reg'lar place about that toime."
Doctor (smiling) - "Where was it?"
Irishman - "In me throat, sorr."
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