Marshall County Independent, Volume 5, Number 29, Plymouth, Marshall County, 30 June 1899 — Page 6

A j V Ii ; VV.V W VV Perhaps the morning never dawned on a sadder scene than on July 4th. XZ, when over the blood-sodden ileM cf Gettysburg the light began to break. Could all the history of the wounded end dead have been written never before had been such a chronicle of romance and tragedy, but it was not; only now and then a leaf, as it were, lias been written and preserved thi3 cne by an army nur.se. My hands and skirts were dabbed in bleed; my heart was faint w;4nin me. For long hours I had fasted and worked; into my ears had been poured the most tender cf last messages; the most heart-breaking tales. "You ought to rest a little," said the rough but kindly voice of an old surgeon; "onlj, if yen can stand up a minute longer there is a case over here I want you to see. In silence I followed him to a small church building that had been turned into an hospital. Every pew was a bed of pain; blood dripped from between the altar rails; even the aisles were partially blocked with the wrecks of humanity. It is in a scene like this that one appreciates the "other side" of war. The surgeon led me straight to the singer's stand and pointed to a young man in shoulder straps, whose blondo curls were matted and whose beautiful bine eyes, beautiful even in their pain, roved restlessly over the walls and ceiling. He was lying flat on his back with only a prayer book for a pillow. I saw at a glance that an arm was gone. The fingers of the ether hand worked nervously. "I can't make out whether he is in his right mind or net," the surgeon d in an undertone. "Maybe you caa teli. I kneeled and laid my hand on his brow. He eemed r.ot to have noticed me before. Now he turned a startled, wondering Kize cn me. His lip. moved, but at fir.-: I could not catch the v. ordt. By and by I made out: "I want Dollie. Please bring Dollie here." .Again: -I will give all I have to the cr.e who will bring me Dollie." 'Who is Dollie?" I asked, gently, 5ti!l smoothing his forehead. lie leaked up with almost a smile in his eyes, and asked naively: "Don't ou know Dollie?" "I am afraid I don't," I said, and I smiled a little, tco. "Dollie is my sweetheart," he answered a moment later. His face was very grave row. "And. oh, how she cried when I came away! Tccr Dollie!" A few moments I busied myself in trying to make him more comfortable; f.hen he broke out again: "If only I could see her just a few minutes it would be heaven on tarth. Maybe she would come if she knew I -am sick. I am sick, ain't I?" "What ails me? I ftel so queer and tore all over and " "There!" he suddenly interrupted himself "if you look quick you will f.ee Dollie's head up there when the light chines on that lamp. Look! Why, how natural her curls, and she "I WANT DOLLIE." smiles at me out of the corners of her eyes a trick of her3. Dear Dollie! She's gone now. I dreamed of her last night; dreamed that her arms were about my neck and that she was kissing me and calling me her soldier boy." 'Was she willing for you to go to war?" I asked. Like the doctor, I was cot sure of hi3 mental condition. "Yes, willing in a way. She felt that It was right for me to go, and right is law with Dollie." I went away then, but an hour later, having bribed a good woman over tho way to let me have a pillow her last one I returned to his side. It seemed to me that he had failed during my

JyL" "BT6 eyes was intensified. When I had put the pillow under his head and bathed bis face, he said, gratefully: "How very kind you are! Your touch 'minds me of mother's." Then I knew he was watching ne, but he did not speak for a long time, and when he did it was not to me: "Father in heaven, let me see Dollie once more; please send her to me." I could not stand either the words or the pathos in the voice. I must help answer that prayer if possible. By and by I said: "Could ycu tell me where to send for Dollie? Maybe she would come to you if it is not too far, and I should tell her how much you need her." It was a hazardous thing to say. We did not often dare make such suggestions, for, of course, few comparatively, could come, and it did not do to raise false hopes. However, I felt confident that he could not live many hours, and his pleadings touched me inexpressibly, even amid the scene and sight3 surrounding. At the question he flashed me such a look. "Will you?" That was all, but oh. the intensity of it! "Write to S. B. Sterling.Sterling's Corners, Pennsylvania." I was not in the least doubt of his sanity at the moment, but before I could trace the words in my notebook, his gaze was once more on the ceiling, and he was babbling of mother and Dollie. Reluctantly I brought myself to search hi3 pockets, finding, strange to say, only a notebook with the name in gilt letters on tho cover: "Donald Dee." My letter was brief, only this: "Donald Dee is dangerously wounded and calls ceaselessly for Dollie." It wa3 a memorable Fourth of July, one never to be forgotten by the poor fellows suffering through the hot, interminable hours, or the busy surgeons and nurses, who never paused in their work of moistening hot lips, bathing throbbing brows, washing out gaping "YOU DOLLIE?" wounds.receiving last messages, "writing letters home;" in short, doing what they could when everything was to do. As soon as possible we had the young captain removed to more comfortable quarters. His wounds were doing fairly well, but the surgeon said the shock had been too much for his nervous system; he might or might not live. "Everything, I should say, depends upon the nursing," he added, looking meaningly at me. "I will do my best for him till Dollie comes," I made answer, but my heart misgave me; I did not think she would come, and if she did well, the future was veiled, as futures are apt to be.

(absence and the troubled lcok in his

,itifeL And1'

Day by day he wasted away. Although I prepared him fairly decent messes he scarcely ate at all; and though a real bedstead had been loaned him, with a real though somewhat dilapidated straw mattress on it, he seldom slept. Without being moody, he was not talkative. He seemed to be silently consumed by some inward longing. "He is dying to see his sweetheartpoor boy!" was what the surgeon said, and what we all thought. It was the evening of the fourth day after I had sent my message to Sterling Corners. Sitting by his couch, fanning him it was intensely hot I wa3 startled to hear him say in a hurried whisper: "You don't think she will get here in time?" To give myself time to frame an answer, I feigned not to understand. "I am afraid I will not hold out till Dollie gets here. I dreamed this afternoon that her mother wa3 here by the bed. and she said, 'You won't have to wait much longer, Donald. Her mother Is dead, you know, and I think it means that I am soon to go." Assuming a hopefulness that I was far from feeling I answered: "I do not so Interpret your dream. I take It 'that you will not have long to lie here fcnd wait before Dollie come3."

He caught hopefully at f. aggtlon and seemed much better fill r.dght. Early the next morning I went to sea a poor boy whose end was unnVitak ably near and who called me "mother." I was detained some time and a my return to my headquarters necessited my passing where Capt. Dee was quartered, I thought to serve hin? his breakfast and then take an hour or two of rest. The surgeon met me, saying: "Dollie has come and is waiting out there in the kitchen. See her and then break the news to him. He is very weak this morning." My heart beat fast; at last I would see Doliie with her arms about her lover's neck. I could imagine just the way he would look at her; he said so much with his eyes. I paused on the threshold of the kitchen; she was not there no one but the cook, a strange man and a little child were in the room. Dollie must have grown impatient and sought him out; the shock might kill him. Hurriedly I turned away, but as I did so the child sprang forward and caught my hand, exclaiming vehemently: "Dollie wants her papa!" In my surprise I jerked my hand away and fairly staggered backwards. "You Dollie?" It was all I could say. "Of course I'm Dollie," she answered in an injured tone, adding piteously: "I want my papa, and he wants me." The stranger, an elderly gentleman, now interposed by handing me my own letter and saying: "I am S. B. Sterling. Donald Dee's stepfather, and this is little Dol'rle, hia daughter." "Certainly yes, I see," I stammered, and I did, though as yet dimly; it wa3

II I

THEY HUGGED AND KISSED EA'JH OTHER. so entirely different from what I had expected. And then I went to Capt. Dee. He seemed restless and feverish, and I gave myself time by wetting a cloth and placing it on his head. By and by I said: "If Dollie should come today, could you bear the joy of it?" "I'd like to try the experiment," and a ghost of a smile flitted over hia wan features. "Joy is not as apt to be fatal as either hope deferred or rebel bullets, and I know something of both of these." Then I said: "Well, she is here." I can no more describe the unutterable look of gladness that lighted hia face than I can describe the rapture of the blest. "Thank Gcd and you!" A few moments later Dollie waä covering his face and hands with kisses and he was hugging her with his one arm and calling her "sweetheart" over and over again. For the time the grandfather and I stood apart and let them enjoy themselves, th former telling me meanWhile of the unusual affection existing between them, of how the young wife had died while Dollie was a babe and cf the almost constant prayer of the child for her father's safety since he entered the army. She was a lovely child, with her father's blonde curls and fine blue eyes. Donald Dee did not die, and a few days later he was taken home to the mother loe and care awaiting him there. I am now grandmother to Dollie's children, for you must know Donald and I celebrated our next Fourth in a far more pleasing manner than the one a year before, and Dollie has long been my sweetheart as well as his. A DASH OF POWDER. It I" at the Temple, Not on the Chi-ek. An affectation of the moment a feminine affectation, of course is a dash of powder on the hair just above one temple. The pompadour style ol coiffure offers a particularly good field for exploit, and there is no doubt that it has a chic effect all of its own. Very young women are most given to it. The middle-aged, whose locks aro already whitening at the temples, have little use for it, though as a matter ol diplomacy they now and then turn it to account. Tho dash of powder, sq patently artificial, distracts attention from the naturally silver threads. Hut it is 'the young that delight in it, jusl as they delight in all-black costumes and matronly millinery and other staid and fober things that hint of age and dignity, anil which they will be only too glad to forswear so soon as they havo reached a staid1 and sober age. The fashion of all-over powdered hair, by the way, is decidedly imminent. There are rumors that It will be the accepted thing for full dress next season. And, meanwhile, as a shadow ol that coming event we have the fashion of powdering a fractional bit o! the hair. Illrnute Statist lex. Blonde hair is finer than that of any other color. Hy actual count It ha3 been ascertained that 400 hairs to the square Inch grow upon the head of a blonde beauty. The brown comes next with 350, then comes the black with 325, and the red with 230 or 200. After counting the hairs growing on an inch square It has been estimated that on the head of a blonde there will be about 149,000 hairs, v hlle a brown suit of tresses will have 109,000, a black 102.000, and a red 90.000.

PAUL

Told By Himself. Narrated in There has been discovered in old archives in Boston a musty letter written by Paul Revere himself, in which he tells the story of his famous exploit. This letter never has been published before. Indeed, its existence was unknown until it was found by the investigator. Many interesting things are shown by this letter, and some cherished pictures destroyed. Longfellow has given us in undying verse the picture of Paul Revere waiting impatiently on the Ch.iiiestown shore for the signal lanterns to show in the old North Church steeple, telling him of the movements cf the British. But it seems from this letter that Revere knew before he left Boston the intentions of the royal troops, and himself ordered the signals to be shown, so as to inform, as by previous agreement, Colonel Conant and other patriots on the Charlestown shore. As soon as Revere got acioss the river Colon.?! Conant infcrmej him that his siznals had beeu seen, and then Revere "told them what was acting." and went to borrow Doacon Larkin's horse. It seems, too, that a Warren Dawes had been dispatched by Dr. Warren to Lexington before Revere was sent out. Revere got to Lexington half an hour ahead of Dawes, thanks to the good judgment of Deacon Larkin in the matter of horse llesh; but suppose Dawes had been first then it would have been "Dawes ride." It is a matter of congratulation that Revere arrived before his fellow courier, for Warren Dawes is not half as euphonious a name "to fill the speaking trump of future fame" as Paul Revere. Another thing which strikes one is the number of patrols and scouting parties which the British had out over Middlesex. We generally picture Paul Revere as dashing through the night along the roads of a peaceful farming country. But in reality he rode through a country swarming with British scouting parties. It appears from the letter also that Dr. Warren did not think that the object of the British was to destroy the stores at Concord, but to capture John Hancock and John Adams, who were at Lexington; and the last picture glimpse we get of Paul Revere he is lugging a trunk filled with Hancock's papers across the fields, while behind him the minutemen and the British are fighting cn Lexington common. This is Paul Revere's story of his ride: In the fall of 1774 and the winter of 17TÖ I was one of upward of thirty, chiefly mechanics, who formed themselves into a committee for the purpose of watching the movements of the British soldiers, and gaining every intelligence f the movements of the tones. We held our meetings at the Green Dragon tavern. We were so careful our meetings should be kept secret that every time we met every person swore upon the Bible that they would not discover any of our transactions but to Messrs. Hancock, Adams, Drs. Warren, Church and one or two more. About November, when things began to grow serious, a gentleman who had connections with the tory party, but was a whig at heart, acquainted me that our meetings were discovered, and mentioned the Identical words that were spoken among us the night before. We removed to another place, which we thought was more secure; lmt here we found that all our transactions were communicated to Governor Gage. This came to me through the then secretary, Thicker; he told It to the gentleman mentioned above. It was then the common opinion that there was a traitor In the provincial congress, and that Gage was possessed of all their secrets. In the winter, toward spring, we frequently took turns, by two and two, to watch the soldiers patrolling the streets all night. The Saturday night preceding the 19th of April, about 12 o'clock at nlht.

REVERE'S

Details Never Before Published, a Letter Just Discovered.

the boats belonging to the transports were all launched and carried uxer the sterns of the men-of-war. They had previously been hauled up and repaired. We likewise found that all the grenadiers and light infantry were taken off duty. From these movements we expected something serious was to be transacted. On Tuesday evening, the ISth, it was observed a number of soldiers were marching toward the bottom cf the common. About 10 o'clock Dr. Warren sent in great haste for me and begged that I would immediately set off for Lexington, where Messrs. Hancock and Adams were, and acquaint them with the movement, and that it was thought that they were the object. When I got to Dr. Warren's house I found that he had sent an express by land to Lexington a Mr. Warren Dawes. The Sunday before, by the dosire of Dr. Warren, I had been to Lexington to Messrs. Hancock and Adams, who were at the Rev. Mr. Clark's. I returned at night through Charlestown; there I agreed with a Colonel Conant and some other gentlemen that if the British went out by water we would show two lanterns in the North Church steeple, and if by land one, as a signal; for we were apprehensive it would be difficult to cross the Charles river or get over Boston neck. I left Dr. Warren, called upon a friend and desired him to make the signals. I then went home, took my boots and surtout, and went to the north part of the town, where I had kept a boat: two friends rowed me across the Charles river, a little to the eastward of where the Somerset lay. It was then young flood, the ship was winding, the moon was rising. They landed me on the Charlestown side. When I got into town I met Colonel Conant and several others, who said they had seen our signals. I told them what was acting, and went to get a horse; I got a horse of Deacon Larkin. While the horse was preparing Richard Devens, Esq.. who was one of the committee of safety, came to me and told me that he came down the road from Lexington after sundown that night and that he met ten British officers, ail well mounted and armed, going up the road. I set off upon a very good horse; It was then about 11 o'clock and very pleasant. After I had passed Charlestown neck and got nearly opposite where Mark was hung in chains I saw two men on horseback under a tree. When I got near them I discovered that they were British officers. One tried to get ahead of me, and the other to take. I turned my horse away quick and galloped toward Charlestown neck, and then pushed for the Medford road. Then the one who chased me. endeavoring to cut me off, got into a clay pond near where the new tavern is now built. I jrot clear of him and went through Medford, over the bridge, and up to Metonomy. In Medford I awakened the captain of the minute men; and after that I alarmed almost every house, till I got to Lexington. I found Messrs. Hancock and Adams at the Rev. Mr. Clark's; I told them my errand, and inquired for Mr. Dawes; they said he had not been there; I related the story of the two officers, and supposed that he must have been stopped, as he ought to havo been there before me. After I had been there about half an hour Mr. Dawes came; we refreshed ourselves, and set off for Concord, to secure the stores, etc., there. We were overtaken by a young Dr. Prescott, whom we found to be a high son or liberty. I told them of the ten officers that Mr. Devens met, and that it was possible we might be stopped before we reached Concord; for I supposed that after night they divided themselves, and that two of them had fixed themselves in such passages as was most likely to stop any Intelligence going to Concord; I likewise mentioned that we had better alarm all

the inhabitants till we got to Concord; the young doctor much approved of it, and said he would stop with either of us, for the people between that and Concord knew him, and would give the more credit to what we said. We had got nearly half way. Mr. Dawes and the doctor stopped to alarm the people of a house. I was about a hundred rods ahead, when I saw two men in nearly the same position as those officers were near Charlestown. I called for the doctor and Mr. Dawes to come up. In an instant I was sur-

IP 1 - -. iL-SEJl

CLAPPED HIS PISTOL TO MY HEAD.

rounded by four. They had placed themselves in a straight road that inclined each way; they had taken down a pair of bars on the north side of the road, and two of them were under a tree in the pasture. The doctor being foremost, he came up, and we tried to get past them: but they, being armed with pistols and swords, forced us Into the pasture. The doctor jumped his horse over a low stone wall and got to Concord. I observed a wood at a small distance, and made for that. When I got there out started six officers on horseback and ordered me to dismount. One of them, who appeared to have the command, examined me, asked where I came from and what my name was. I told him. He asked me if I was an express. I answered him In the affirmative. He demanded what time I left Boston. I told him, and added that their troops had catched aground in passing the river, and that there would be 500 Americans there in a short time, for I had alarmed the country all the way up. He immediately rode toward those who stopped us, when all five of them came down upon a full gallop. One of them, whom I afterward found to be a Major Mitchell of the Fifth regiment, clapped his pistol to my head, called me by name and told me he was going to ask me some questions, and if 1 did not give him true answers he would blow my brains out. He then asked me similar questions to those above. He then ordered me to mount my horse, after searching me for arms. He then ordered them to advance and to lead me in front. When we got to the road they turned down toward Lexington. When we had got about one mile the Major rode up to the officer that was leading me and told him to give me to the sergeant. As soon as he took me the Major ordered him. if I attempted to run, or anybody insulted them, to blow my brains out. We rode till we got near Lexington meeting-house, when the militia fired a volley of guns, which appeared to

RIDEo

alarm them very much. The Major Inquired cf me how far it was to Canbridge, and if there were any other road. After some consultation the Major rode up to the sergeant and asked him If his horse was tired. He answered him it was. (He was a sergeant of grenadiers, and had a small horse.) Then, he said, take that man's horse. I dismounted and the sergeant mounted my horse, when they all rode toward Lexington meeting-house. I went aero-s the burying ground and some pasture, and came to the Rev. Mr. Clark's house, where I found Messrs. Hancock and Adams. I told them of my treatment, and they concluded to go from that house toward Woburn. I went with them, and a Mr. Lowell, who was a clerk to Mr. Hancock. When we got to the house where they intended to stop, Mr. Iowell and myself returned to Mr. Clark's to find out what was going on. When we got there an elderly man came in; he said he had just come from the tavern, that a man had come from Boston, who said there were no British troops coming. Mr. Lowell and myself went toward the tavern, when we met a man on a full gallop, who told us the troops were coming up the rocks. We afterward met another who said they were close by. Mr. Lowell asked me to go to the tavern with him, to get a trunk of papers belonging to Mr. Hancock. We went up chamber, and while we were getting the trunk we saw the British very near, upon a full march. We hurried toward Mr. Clark's house. In our way we passed through the militia. There were about fifty. When we had got about one hundred yards from the meeting-house the British troops appeared upon both sides of the meeting-house. In their front was an officer on horseback. They made a short halt, when I saw and heard a gun fired which appeared to be a pistol. Then I could distinguish two guns, and then a continual roar of musketry, when we made off with the trunk. TOO CONSPICUOUS. The Soldier Itoy Wanted to tiet Int Civilian's (ioflie. Nice boys who are getting home for the first time .since they enlisted for the war are having1 as hard a time a. most, as far as the attention they attract, as the first soldiers who arrived, says the New York Times. There was one of them who had only just come, who drifted into a downtown dairy restaurant the other evening with an cider sister, evidently, who had come to meet him. He was not much more than a boy a boy who had been brought up as a gentleman and he might have been selfconscious at other times, but in his uniform he was very uncomfortable. That was evidently the reason he had drifted Into the dairy for dinner to keep away from curious eyes; but htf made a mistake, for the place was crowded anil there was not a person in the room who did not take in every detail of his uniform. That be was not used to dairy living was evident, for he called for an extra plate for the lady with him and ordered chicken croquettes for himself. No one expects an extra plate at a dairy restaurant, and no one who knows how to eat orders croquettes. Plain baked beans are more apt to be satisfactory. Still the soldier boy forgot to tip the waiter, so he may have been more accustomed to a dairy than he appeared. But anything might have been expected of him, for being a single object of interest had affected his nerves. It made him almost petulant. At intervals, however, he gave reminiscences of his life in Cuba to the interested listener beside him. told of the sword given him by a Cuban general, and showed her his packages of Cuban all-tobacco cigarettes. It was with an air of relief that he got up to leave. "You will go up in the Broadway car?" asked his companion, feeling that he would like to see as much of New York as possible after being away so long. "No," he answered; "no, I don't want to see Broadway. I only want to get into civilian's clothes; this uniform is so confoundedly conspicuous, and I want to get warm, for I feel this cold frightfully. I was wearing white ducks until the 20th, when I left." Inntttnt ltecognlt Ion. "I hear D'Auber's work is winning recognition now." "Yps; it's so frightful that people can't mistake it for any other artist's." Philadelphia Record. Superstition never keeps people from accepting thirteen for a dezen.

t ,