ing, just ten hours before.
Who can describe that night of horrors?
We spent it in a small house near the depot.
Friends and near kindred were full of sympathy, and the people in whose house we were, were kind and considerate.
The captain of his company, a noble young friend from her own home, Covington, came to see her, and to condole with her; but her first-born was not — the darling of her heart had passed away!
At daylight we were in the cars again, on our melancholy return.
On the third day his dear remains were brought to us, and the mother saw her heroic son, in his plain soldier's coffin, but beautiful in death, committed to God's own earth, having fallen in a glorious cause, in the faith of the Gospel, and with a bright hope of a blessed immortality.
The young Kentucky friend who accompanied his remains told her his last words, which were a wonderful consolation to her: Tell my mother that I die in the faith of Christ; her early instructions have been greatly blessed t