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Fannie A. Beers, Memories: a record of personal exeperience and adventure during four years of war., Part I. (search)
nd some others whose names I cannot now recall. Dr. W. T. McAllister was surgeon in charge of the Buckner. Of the assistant surgeons I can only remember Dr. W. S. Lee, then of Florida, now a successful practitioner and an honored citizen of Dallas, Texas; Dr. R. D. Jackson, of Selma; Alabama, who since the war has lived a well-beloved physician and druggist in Summerfield, Alabama; Dr. Reese, also of Alabama, and Dr. Yates, of Texas, now dead. For a few months Dr. Francis Thornton, of Kentucd, he said, Doctor, how soon can I go back to my regiment? Poor boy! he did go back in time to participate in the battle of Chickamauga, where he met his death. Twenty years after, I met his brother at a reunion of Confederate soldiers, in Dallas, Texas, and he could hardly tell me for weeping that Eddie had been shot down at his side while gallantly charging with the——Texas Cavalry. Another youth, ——Roundtree, of Alabama, lingered in that ward for many weeks, suffering from dysentery, and
Fannie A. Beers, Memories: a record of personal exeperience and adventure during four years of war., chapter 5 (search)
t I may no longer trespass upon your patience. With loving, reverent hands I have lifted the veil of the past. Let the transcendent glory streaming through penetrate the mask which time and care and sorrow have woven for the faces of my boys, and show you the brave, unfaltering hearts as I know them. Chapter 2: the Confederate reunion at Dallas. On the morning of August 6, 1885, a small party of ladies and gentlemen set forth from Shreveport to attend the Confederate reunion at Dallas, Texas. The gentlemen of the party were veteran soldiers, and your correspondent claimed like honors. (Place this admission to my credit, for, believe me, it is a ruthless sacrifice of womanly vanity to dearer memories.) In congenial companionship the day passed quickly. Its close brought us to Dallas. And here began at once an emotional experience which might well be called a tempest of the heart,—glimpses of glory once real. Forms and scenes of long ago appeared in such constant suc