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 and nationality, and to have devoted his life in his country's cause. He had been a gallant, faithful, and excellent soldier. The capacity for endurance he had shown was remarkable. The winter's encampment, the damps and miasmas of the Chickahominy swamps, the marches all night without sleep, the marches all day under a burning sun, never lowered the tone of his health or spirits. He bore the disasters of the Peninsular campaign undismayed, and preserved through all a hopeful courage. He was respected, beloved, and relied upon by both officers and men. The high expectation they had formed of him he did not disappoint in his first and greatest trial. The gallantry of his conduct in the battle of Bull Run received from his superiors in command the warmest praise. The last moment of his life is the best blazon of his valor. Standing close by the colors of his regiment, waving his sword and cheering on his men in a charge, a grape-shot struck him in the neck and killed him instantly. He died without a pang. As he lay upon the field, his face wore the expression of a perfect repose. On the spot where he fell, he was buried. A pile of roughly hewn stone and cannon-balls has been raised in commemoration of the battle on that part of the ground which was the scene of the most desperate passage of the fight. His grave is just inside the little fence that encircles this monument.
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