Witnessed for the first time a military funeral. As that
march came wailing up, they say Mrs. Bartow fainted. The empty saddle and the
led war-horse — we saw and heard it all, and now it seems we are never out of
the sound of the Dead March in Saul. It comes and it comes, until I feel inclined
to close my ears and scream.
Yesterday, Mrs. Singleton and ourselves sat on a bedside and
mingled our tears for those noble spirits — John Darby, Theodore Barker, and
James Lowndes. To-day we find we wasted our grief; they are not so much as
wounded. I dare say all the rest is true about them — in the face of the enemy,
with flags in their hands, leading their men. “But Dr. Darby is a surgeon.” He
is as likely to forget that as I am. He is grandson of Colonel Thomson of the
Revolution, called, by way of pet name, by his soldiers, “Old Danger.'” Thank
Heaven they are all quite alive. And we will not cry next time until officially
notified.
SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin
and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 88
No comments:
Post a Comment