Barbarities of the enemy.
The following interesting statements are taken from a private letter, dated atWashington, July 24, 1861.In compliance with your request, I sit down to apprise you of the fate of our quondam companions in our adventurous and eventful foray into “Dixie.” * * * Some of our companions say that they were at that place on the road where Colonel Montgomery (as I see by the papers) made that famous halt of the light brigade, (Russell & Co.,) and procured tea and lodging in a near-by house. They started on their return tramp at about 12, and must have been only a little way behind us all the way — reaching here in less than half an hour after we did. Yesterday afternoon I walked out to Camp Sprague, to ascertain, if possible, the fate of my uncle, of whom I had heard such bad news on the road, and from what I could gather my worst fears were confirmed. A sergeant of his company, who, by the way, had himself received a slight gun-shot wound in the back of the head, told me that he stood close beside him when he fell, and helped to bear him to the hospital, where they were obliged to leave him outside under the shade of a tree. They considered his wound mortal, and as the hospital was afterwards shelled and taken, I think there can be but little doubt of his fate, especially in view of the accounts of the enemy's barbarity to the wounded. A chaplain of one of the Connecticut regiments told me that he saw one of them go up to one of our wounded, and bayonet him, though lie pleaded to be spared; and that another gentleman on whom he could rely saw a similar instance of “southern chivalry.” * * The only other persons missing from that company — half of whom were my school-mates — are, a young man who was placed to guard my uncle, and who, when warned to fly, nobly declared that he would not abandon a wounded comrade, and thus probably fell into the hands of the enemy; and another, a young man named Lake. A lieutenant, reported missing, came in yesterday afternoon, much exhausted, having been left behind and obliged to crawl under some blackberry bushes. He heard the Black Horse Cavalry ride by swearing at the “----Rhode Island thieves.” He slept there all night, walked through the rain to Alexandria, and then, by some official stupidity, was obliged, though drenched to the skin, to remain on the wharf the rest of the day and all of the succeeding night guarding some baggage. He has seen considerable service both in the army and on board a man-of-war, but he says that he never went through as much as he has since Sunday. Among the wounded I found one young fellow who had received a ball through the hip, which was extracted on the other side, and yet he had walked the whole distance in and sat outside the hospital barracks coolly smoking his pipe. There were instances of individual bravery in this battle not exceeded at Thermopylae or Marathon. When our volunteers left Bristol, one mother, a Mrs. Pierce, who had two sons among them, said she only wished she had more to send. She afterwards wrote a very pathetic letter which was read to the whole company in the Town Hall on the morning of their departure. One of her sons met with an accident while they were encamped at Providence, and was obliged to return home. The other son was in the battle on Sunday. As the regiment stood on the hill, exposed to a galling fire, the color-sergeant, towards whom, of course, most of the shots were directed, rather flinched, and stepped behind a tree. Young Pierce seized the standard, rushed in advance, and waved it defiantly at the enemy. He came off unscathed.1
--Eveing Post.
