The following characteristic anecdote of the fallen hero, from the pen of one of the Editors of The New York Evening Post, will be read with interest.
“He had a reputation in the army for the excellent care he took of those under his command. He would not let them suffer if thoughtfulness, providence and ingenuity could prevent it.
“Make out a requisition for extra shoes,” we heard him say to one of the Brigadiers; “about one pair of shoes for ever two men. I think we can get them of the Quartermaster, but I will see to it, that at any rate they are got. They will not be heavy to carry, and we shall find [t]he value of them before we get through.”
“I remember,” he added, “during the march through Maryland, before the battle of South Mountain, we passed over a tract of country extremely rugged and stony, and I saw not only men, but officers walking along with bleeding feet. The Men’s shoes gave out entirely. It hurt my feelings more than I can tell you, to see the good fellows trudge along so. We came to a town on the line of march, and I, who was riding at the head of the column, spurred ahead to see if there were not some shoe stores where I could purchase what was needed for the men. All the shops were closed, the first men I saw were two sitting outside a closed shop.
“Are there any shoe stores in this town?” I asked. They replied, in a gruff way, that they could not tell, there might be and there might not. I told them that I wanted to buy shoes for my troops, who were barefooted. They replied they guessed I wouldn’t get many.
“At that,” said the General, “I got angry. Said I there are two pair of shoes at any rate which I see on your feet. Take them off instantly! I shouted to them. They were obliged to do it. I went through the town and took the shoes off every man’s feet I could see; and thus I raised about two hundred pairs in all. One fine old fellow, a miller, whom I met, I did not deprive of his own pair; I rode up to him and asked if he and any old shoes he could spare me, describing the pitiful condition of my men. The old man said, “I don’t know if there’s any shoes in the house or not, but,” looking down at his feet – “here’s a pair you’r[e] welcome to at any rate.” I would not let him take them off, but he gave me some from his house. All the rest I stripped.”
– Published in The Union Sentinel, Osceola, Iowa, May 28, 1864
“He had a reputation in the army for the excellent care he took of those under his command. He would not let them suffer if thoughtfulness, providence and ingenuity could prevent it.
“Make out a requisition for extra shoes,” we heard him say to one of the Brigadiers; “about one pair of shoes for ever two men. I think we can get them of the Quartermaster, but I will see to it, that at any rate they are got. They will not be heavy to carry, and we shall find [t]he value of them before we get through.”
“I remember,” he added, “during the march through Maryland, before the battle of South Mountain, we passed over a tract of country extremely rugged and stony, and I saw not only men, but officers walking along with bleeding feet. The Men’s shoes gave out entirely. It hurt my feelings more than I can tell you, to see the good fellows trudge along so. We came to a town on the line of march, and I, who was riding at the head of the column, spurred ahead to see if there were not some shoe stores where I could purchase what was needed for the men. All the shops were closed, the first men I saw were two sitting outside a closed shop.
“Are there any shoe stores in this town?” I asked. They replied, in a gruff way, that they could not tell, there might be and there might not. I told them that I wanted to buy shoes for my troops, who were barefooted. They replied they guessed I wouldn’t get many.
“At that,” said the General, “I got angry. Said I there are two pair of shoes at any rate which I see on your feet. Take them off instantly! I shouted to them. They were obliged to do it. I went through the town and took the shoes off every man’s feet I could see; and thus I raised about two hundred pairs in all. One fine old fellow, a miller, whom I met, I did not deprive of his own pair; I rode up to him and asked if he and any old shoes he could spare me, describing the pitiful condition of my men. The old man said, “I don’t know if there’s any shoes in the house or not, but,” looking down at his feet – “here’s a pair you’r[e] welcome to at any rate.” I would not let him take them off, but he gave me some from his house. All the rest I stripped.”
– Published in The Union Sentinel, Osceola, Iowa, May 28, 1864
No comments:
Post a Comment