the account of Dr. S. Sargent of Lawrence, also confined at the hospital:—
There was no murmuring or repining. He mentioned his home and friends with much feeling and fondness; but there seemed a doubt that he should ever see them again. He wished me to remember him in love to them all, and kiss his dear mother for him. It was very consoling to witness his devotion to his country, and Christian resignation. I pressed a fervent kiss on his emaciated lips, and left, never to see him more. This was truly a painful parting. It was very trying to leave the noble-hearted young officer and true patriot to die in a strange land, without a single friend to smooth his dying pillow.He died on the 12th of August, five days before the entire abandonment of the Peninsula. He had returned from home with its fresh memories upon him, to die alone. His Captain says: ‘During his sickness his mind was calm and peaceful. He showed the utmost fortitude; and I know his last moments must have been peaceful and happy, and enjoying a full love of his Saviour.’ His remains reached Boston upon the 17th. They were followed to the grave upon the 21st, in the cemetery at North Andover, where they rest near his birthplace. The following testimony to his merits was given by Colonel William Dwight, Jr., his regimental commander:—
Lieutenant Stevens was dear to me. I recognized him as one of the very best officers of my regiment, while his character as a man endeared him to all connected with him. Though he died by disease, instead of at the hands of the enemy, and, as he would have preferred, face to face with the foe, his name will ever be remembered, by those who knew him, for the distinguished services he rendered on the field of Williamsburg. Those services were beyond his rank and station, and were appreciated beyond his regiment, and through the whole division, which contended so resolutely and suffered so severely on that day.His short life yielded results which, so far as they went, were worthy of its early promise, and remain as fit memorials of that spirit which nerved the slight figure and lighted the open, earnest features we knew so well.