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Browsing named entities in a specific section of C. Edwards Lester, Life and public services of Charles Sumner: Born Jan. 6, 1811. Died March 11, 1874.. Search the whole document.

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Utica (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 203
ove he must have borne to the fair being for whom he had treasured up his boyhood's jewels, for whom he gave up everything of the earth earthy, to rescue a Republic, and then go back after this episode of suffering to inaugurate the life of a citizen farmer on the bleak hills of New York:—if all this could not sustain him, what could?— In former visits to him he had made me his confidant in regard to these matters. He seemed to be haunted with the idea that he would, after all, return to Utica, and once more see those he loved; and yet he also seemed to me like one whose days were numbered, and the surgeon had told me, after repeated counsels with his professional brethren, that it was next to impossible to save his life, and that I must not expect it. All the while I clung to the belief that some vitality of faith, or love, or hope, or patriotism, or divine aid, would still send that boy back to the banks of the Mohawk. I saw another nervous twitch around the temples. I fe
Trenton Falls (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 203
ast quiet slumber; and yet I knew he would wake once more before he died. I approached his cot again. He was still sleeping, and so tranquilly I felt a little alarmed lest he might never wake, till I touched his pulse and found it still softly beating. I let him sleep, and thought I would sit by his side till the surgeon came.— I took a long, free breath, for I supposed it was all hopelessly over. Then I thought of his strange history:—I knew it well. He was born not far from Trenton Falls,—the youngest son, among several brothers, of one of the brave tillers of that hard soil. He had seen his family grow up nobly and sturdily, under the discipline of a good religion and good government, and with a determination to defend both. When his country's troubles began, his first impulses thus found expression to his brothers:—Let me go; for you are all married; and if I fall, no matter. He went. He had followed the standard of the Republic into every battle-field where the
Mohawk (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 203
e haunted with the idea that he would, after all, return to Utica, and once more see those he loved; and yet he also seemed to me like one whose days were numbered, and the surgeon had told me, after repeated counsels with his professional brethren, that it was next to impossible to save his life, and that I must not expect it. All the while I clung to the belief that some vitality of faith, or love, or hope, or patriotism, or divine aid, would still send that boy back to the banks of the Mohawk. I saw another nervous twitch around the temples. I felt his pulse. It was an indication of hope, or sudden death. The surgeon came by again. That boy has wonderful vitality, he said, as he looked at his face. Whether it was purely my fancy, my hope, or a fact, I did not know, but twilight seemed to pass over his face. Yes, yes—I—I—wait—a moment. Oh, I shall not die! He opened his eyes calmly, and then a glow which I shall never forget suffused his cheek, and, lifting his
Bella (search for this): chapter 203
any letters for me? Yes, but they are at my office. You shall have them to-morrow. They are all well at home. And Bella? Yes. Oh, God be praised!— After a few moments of repose, he again opened his eyes wide.— I have been gone soor whole days his life was pulsating in its gossamer tenement, fluttering over the misty barriers of the spirit-world. Bella's letters, received during his extreme illness, could now be read. They were among the noblest ever written by woman. e. I expected it, although I knew how crushingly the blow would fall. But if you had not loved your country better than Bella, it would have broken her heart. I hope now in a few weeks you will be again by my side. When your health is once more be my husband, God has decreed that I shall die a widow never married. He did return to the Mohawk Valley. He married Bella. He returned to the war; and on the eve of the great day of Antietam he heard that his son was born, and the hero-father
Charles Sumner (search for this): chapter 203
d by our Father. We now wait only for your return. When we parted, it was not with repining: you had gone to the altar of your country in solemn and complete dedication. I too was prepared for the sacrifice. I expected it, although I knew how crushingly the blow would fall. But if you had not loved your country better than Bella, it would have broken her heart. I hope now in a few weeks you will be again by my side. When your health is once more restored, I will promise in advance, as you desire, not to try to keep you from rejoining your regiment; and if the stars have written that Walter shall not be my husband, God has decreed that I shall die a widow never married. He did return to the Mohawk Valley. He married Bella. He returned to the war; and on the eve of the great day of Antietam he heard that his son was born, and the hero-father died by the side of Hooker.—Sic transit gloria mundi. How much Liberty costs! sadly said Mr. Sumner. But it is cheap at any price.
Hooker (search for this): chapter 203
d by our Father. We now wait only for your return. When we parted, it was not with repining: you had gone to the altar of your country in solemn and complete dedication. I too was prepared for the sacrifice. I expected it, although I knew how crushingly the blow would fall. But if you had not loved your country better than Bella, it would have broken her heart. I hope now in a few weeks you will be again by my side. When your health is once more restored, I will promise in advance, as you desire, not to try to keep you from rejoining your regiment; and if the stars have written that Walter shall not be my husband, God has decreed that I shall die a widow never married. He did return to the Mohawk Valley. He married Bella. He returned to the war; and on the eve of the great day of Antietam he heard that his son was born, and the hero-father died by the side of Hooker.—Sic transit gloria mundi. How much Liberty costs! sadly said Mr. Sumner. But it is cheap at any price.
Walter Scott (search for this): chapter 203
down to me: I won't speak loud,—I won't get excited. I did.—Have you got any letters for me? Yes, but they are at my office. You shall have them to-morrow. They are all well at home. And Bella? Yes. Oh, God be praised!— After a few moments of repose, he again opened his eyes wide.— I have been gone so long from the army! It seemed as though I never could get back when I got home. I got away; and I wandered, and wandered.—Oh, how tired I was Where is McDowell?— Is General Scott dead? They said so. Did they carry off Old Abe? How did he get back? Did the Rebels get into Washington that night? How long have I been sick? What place is this?—Oh, my head! my head! I was frightened. He had risen from the deep ocean into the sunlight for a brief hour, and now he seemed to be going down to come up no more. The tender chord of memory had given way. In a little while the surgeon came by, and I told him what had happened. I was afraid of that. But I
McDowell (search for this): chapter 203
ase put your ear down to me: I won't speak loud,—I won't get excited. I did.—Have you got any letters for me? Yes, but they are at my office. You shall have them to-morrow. They are all well at home. And Bella? Yes. Oh, God be praised!— After a few moments of repose, he again opened his eyes wide.— I have been gone so long from the army! It seemed as though I never could get back when I got home. I got away; and I wandered, and wandered.—Oh, how tired I was Where is McDowell?— Is General Scott dead? They said so. Did they carry off Old Abe? How did he get back? Did the Rebels get into Washington that night? How long have I been sick? What place is this?—Oh, my head! my head! I was frightened. He had risen from the deep ocean into the sunlight for a brief hour, and now he seemed to be going down to come up no more. The tender chord of memory had given way. In a little while the surgeon came by, and I told him what had happened. I was afraid
July, 1861 AD (search for this): chapter 203
dard of the Republic into every battle-field where the struggle carried him, till, worn out, but not wounded, he was borne to this hospital in Washington, a sick boy. He seemed to have a charmed life, for on several occasions his comrades had been shot dead or wounded on either side; and when his last cartridge had done execution, he carried off two of his wounded companions from the field, bearing them and their muskets to the rear,—if there were a rear in the flight from the Bull Run of July, 1861,—and nourished and watched and stood by these comrades till they died, and then got the help of a farmer to carry them with his cart, a whole day afterward, to be buried in a place which he chose. This boy's example had inspired that farmer with such benevolence —if he were not inspired by patriotism already—that he made honored graves for them; and the writer of this work knows where their ashes rest. When this was all over, the boy came back, as a kind of rear-guard, of one, in th