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[435] a surprise of the enemy's outposts near Washington. When the temper of the men had become such that it was thought necessary to call for volunteers, company by company, and to take only such as were willing to go, at the call, three men from Company E stepped to my side without hesitation or a moment's deliberation; one of the three was William Cocke. Any one who knew him would have counted on him at such a time; he was always where duty called.

On the march, bivouac, outpost, fatigue duty, anywhere, he was cheerful, uncomplaining, patient and obedient, never seeking or caring for promotion, but only solicitous to do well his part ‘in that station to which it pleased God to call him.’ He was a noble pattern and example of the Christian soldier and gentleman; and so I ever found him to the close. It was not my fortune to be with him when his well-earned promotion came unsought, nor to be present on that day when his bright career was ended. But I am persuaded that as he lived, so he died; that the faith which had sustained him in life did not fail him in death. Your friend and mine, Sergeant Jackson (now gone to his rest), a short time before his death, speaking of your brother in most touching and affecting terms, told me he was always associated in his memory with the little Greek Testament he loved so well and read so constantly. Could a comrade well give a nobler eulogy? Who would not say, ‘Let me be thus remembered?’

When Lieutenant Cocke passed from under the bare branches of his ancestral oaks, that bleak January morning, 1863, it was to see them no more forever. Although still lame from his wound, he persisted in returning to his post. This furlough, which the nursing of his wounded leg necessitated, was his last. In all the rapid, eager, deadly struggles of the next six months, he was a constant participator; marching, fighting, watching, he bore on with the same quenchless endurance and heroic fortitude, even to the end.

As he passed with Lee's Army through Frederick City, on its march to Pennsylvania, a young female friend—who in the happy days gone by had been accustomed for months together to share, with other joyous summer guests, the hospitalities of Lieutenant Cocke's beautiful home—stood upon the pavement's edge, and with streaming tears of wonder and pride, gazed on him incredulously as he presented himself before her. It was

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