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William W. Bennett, A narrative of the great revival which prevailed in the Southern armies during the late Civil War 2 0 Browse Search
The Daily Dispatch: March 14, 1862., [Electronic resource] 2 0 Browse Search
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William W. Bennett, A narrative of the great revival which prevailed in the Southern armies during the late Civil War, Chapter 10: summer of 1862. (search)
g and delicate boy, suffering from the effects of protracted fever. The little fellow had seen only fourteen summers, and his thin, pale face bore marks of disease and suffering. The following occurred, as reported by the chaplain: How old are you, my son? said the reverend gentleman. I was fourteen my last birthday. Why, that is very young to be in the army? Yes, sir; but I thought it my duty. Where are you from? Mississippi, sir. What is your name? Dwight Sherwood. Why, that is a Northern name. Yes, sir; my father was a Northern man, but he has lived in the South for many years, and is a good Southern man. And your mother, where is she? His little thin lip quivered, as he said with an effort to suppress emotion, She is dead. Well, my son, you are very young, and you are very sick. You are not able to endure the fatigues of a campaign, and if you get better, you had better return home, hadn't you? The boy turned his lar
The Daily Dispatch: March 14, 1862., [Electronic resource], $5 reward (search)
oy, suffering from the effects of protracted fever. The little fellow had seen only fourteen summers, and his thin, pale face bore marks of disease and suffering. The following occurred, as reported by the Chaptain: "How old are you, my son?" said the Rev. gentleman. "I was fourteen my last birthday" "Why, that in very young, to be in the army?" "Yes, sir; but I thought it my duty." "Where are you from?" "Mississippi, sir." "What is your name?" "Dwight Sherwood." "Why, that is a Northern name." "Yes, sir; my father was a Northern man, but he has lived in the South for many years, and is a good Southern man." "And your mother, where is she?" His little thin lip quivered, as he said with an effort to suppress emotion, "She is dead!" "Well, my son, you are very young, and you are very sick. You are not able to endure the fatigues of a campaign, and, if you get better, you had better return home, hadn't you?" The boy