His friend, Hon. W. F. Sanford, wrote a touching memorial of the gallant soldier, from which we extract the following account of his last moments:He was carried to a shade, and there the chaplain of his regiment, Rev. Thomas Stanley, attended him. I give the account of the closing scene in his words: ‘When I found the colonel he thought his wound was mortal, and though he had not recovered from the shock he seemed calm and collected. I talked with him very freely on the subject of religion. He constantly expressed a spirit of resignation to the Providence of God, and that he had no apprehensions whatever in regard to the future; that he had tried to do his duty, and felt in the last hour that he was accepted of his Saviour. In this hour his faith never wavered—he said he was “going to the land of light and peace, where he should meet his many loved ones who had gone before;” and again: “Tell my dear wife I go to meet our angel child, and to come to us.” At one time he said: “The Providence of God is inscrutable, but I submit in hope.” He died without a struggle. It is comfortable to know that all his wants were supplied during his sufferings. He experienced no pain, and was conscious to the last moment. As soon as he was wounded General Forrest sent his surgeon to him; the poor people, who had been bereft of all their worldly substance, went to see him from miles around.’The following touching scene is described by Rev. J. A. Parker, who labored as an army chaplain. He was conveying a number of wounded soldiers by water to the hospitals at Mobile:At two o'clock in the morning we started in a skiff for the city. The wind was high and the water rough. Poor wounded men, how they suffered the pangs of thirst, with no water save that from the bay! A young soldier, whom I had promised to convey to the city, lay senseless the most of the morning. About midday he roused up and asked: ‘How far?’ ‘In sight of the city,’ said I. After lying quiet awhile, he asked why it was so dark. I told him it was not dark—that it was light and I could see the city, and that we would soon relieve him of the rough sailing and make him comfortable. I then left him and went to the other end of the boat to use an oar, for we were drifting. He soon asked for the preacher, and I returned to him. He called for water, which I dipped in a tin-cup from
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