Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 July 1895 — McPHERSON’S DEATH. [ARTICLE]

McPHERSON’S DEATH.

Secretary Gresham's Account While Seated Before the General’s Statue. McPherson square, in Washington,, the government reservation that contains tlie statue of the brave soldier who lost his life at the battle of Atlanta, was always a favorite spot with the late Secretary Gresham, who was also badly wounded in that engagement. The square is near the hotel where he lived, and nearly every pleasant evening he would sit for a while before the statue of his dear friend and comrade, recalling memories of the past. On the evening of the day before ho was stricken with his fatal illness Mr. Gresham and Private Secretary Thurber occupied the bench near the McPherson statue together. While seated there the Secretary recalled the incidents of McPherson's death. “McPherson,” said Secretary Gresham, “had a nature as gentle and kind as that of a lovely woman. I shall never forget the last conversation I had with him, just after I was wounded at Atlanta. I was in command of a division, and he was the commanding General. I was lying upon the ground wounded when McPherson came up to me and inquired the extent of my injury. As soon as he discovered how badly I was hurt he ordered his own surgeon to take charge of my case, and he superintended the arrangements for removing me from the held and conveying me to the hospital. I was always very fond of him, and he was like a big brother to me. With his own hands he helped to place me on the stretcher, and as we parted he grasped my hands and said he would look for my speedy recovery. “I was carried down the road to a little railway station, where the train was to come along and take me to the hospital* I was in terrible agony, and the stretcher on which I was

resting was placed on the platform right out in the broiling sun. I think I must have remained there for several hours. Finally a guard of our troops brought a wooden coffin and placed it beside my stretcher. I observed that the officer in charge of the guard was a member of McPherson’s personal staff. I knew the box contained a dead body, and I asked the officer in charge the name of the dead soldier. 'lt is all that is left of McPherson,’ he responded sadly. I could hardly believe that such a thing could be. for I left him on the field but a few hours previous, evidently in perfect health and confident of ultimate victory. It was a terrible shock to me to have the dead body of my friend and comrade thus brought to me. I thought I would go wild with anguish, and the pain from my wounds increased with the excitement under which I was laboring. “Finally the train came along and I was placed in a box-cur with the dead body of McPherson. The only other occupants of the car were the officer in charge of the body and an Irish soldier. The only light in the car was from a tallow candle stuck up in a corner. The surroundings were intensely gloomy, and I did not much care whether I survived or not. I felt as though I wanted to go into eternity, side by side with my old commander and friend. The solemnitj' of the surroundings was by the constant efforts of the officer in charge to try and keep the sentry from going to sleep. The poor fellow nodded and nodded, until the officer became so enraged that he cuffed him over the head quite sharply. In spite of my pain and anguish, I could not refrain from laughing a moment later, when the sentry received another rap over the head and fell against the solitary candle and extinguished the light, leaving the car in total darkness.’’ Secretary Gresham always contended that the humor of the incident saved his life, for up to that moment he was in such a morbid state that it is doubtful if he could have lived through another hour.