CHAPTER XXI. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. — SOLDIERS' FUNERALS.-RESOLU. TIONS OF CONDOLENCE. In this chapter will be gathered all that is accessible relating to the personal history and exploits of those who represented Worcester in the war of union and freedom, and who fell in the service of their country, or in consequence of exposure and wounds while in the field. Notices of officers and men will be mingled indiscriminately, somewhat in the order of time, but with no regard to rank or condition, since the cause they died for made them all brothers; and at the grave "the rich and poor meet together; the Lord is the maker of them all." The following poem, written by a well-known citizen of Worcester, here finds its appropriate place. MY SOLDIER BOY. BY CLARK JILLSON. While the sun with mellow crimson Tints the border of the skies, And along the level meadow, Bright with summer's changing dyes, In the evening's dreamy haze, Deepened by the voice of mourning For my loved one, brave and young. On the stormy field of battle, Where the hosts had met to die, Stood the boy for whom I sigh, Fell and perished in the strife. Where no din of strife can enter, Where no cruel wars betide. On the last Sabbath of the year 1865, Rev. Mr. Richardson preached a "memorial sermon," in honor of those who had fallen in the war. He stated that one hundred and ten of his congregation had been in the service, of whom twenty-two were already dead. He then passed on to consider the results of the sacrifice. His text was Heb. 11: 4. "And by it he being dead, yet speaketh." Parts of the discourse are of general interest, and appropriately introduce these biographical notices. "Under the lead of this sentiment of the text, I call attention to the voice of the dead who have died for their country. . . . Such then is the price which the families connected with this congregation have paid to preserve the integrity and freedom of the republic. It is a great price, - not to be expressed in words. Multiply it by fifteen thousand, and you have the whole number of men, the young, the strong, the brave,—who have died for their country. A most costly sacrifice! What fair prospects of life have been blighted! What tides of grief have surged over the land! . . . Their country called, and they answered with their lives. They knew not; none knew, at first, the bitterness of the contest. Enough that the traitor's blow was aimed at the nation's life. For us, as for themselves, they stood in the deadly breach; and it is a most grateful duty to honor their memory and the memory of all living or dead, who periled their lives for the salvation of the Republic. Forever green the graves of the fallen! History and song shall perpetuate their deeds; monuments shall rise over their sleeping dust; and the lessons of their patriotic sacrifice shall inspire the hearts of future generations. Though dead, they will speak, for death in such a cause shall be life to the world. No good deed ever dies; but such a protracted and gloriously successful struggle shall be as a flaming banner to all nations. It is in such thoughts that we find compensation for the loss, and support under the sorrow of the nation. Was ever a war so perfect in its work? It ended as suddenly as it began; but when it ended, it left rebellion crushed, and its land a desolation. And not a slave, not a slave in all those states that fought to perpetuate their pet institution! Glory be to God! Eternal honor to the men, the instruments of his righteous vengeance! The dead of this war will live. Such deeds can never die. Such a sacrifice will speak to future ages. They were cut off in the midst of their years; most of them in the bloom of youth. Let those who mourn for husbands, and sons, and brothers, cherish the consolation that their death was not in vain. They laid down their lives in a great cause. There could be no greater. Bring flowers to their graves! Brighter and brighter their memory shall glow, as we, and our posterity, — the freeborn millions of the Republic,—and the lovers of liberty the world over, shall ponder the story of their daring and endurance, and contemplate the results so beneficent to humanity, and so honorable to themselves. Our children and our children's children, will read with moistened eyes, the story of the rebellion; and with wonder and admiration dwell upon the sublime sacrifice, and deeds of heroism, and martyr-endurance of that peace-loving host, who, to save their country, periled their lives. Though dead they will speak; -a voice that never dies. No length of years; no life of ease; nor wealth, nor station, could have given such interest or value to their lives, as this one offering upon the altar of liberty. Weep for your loved ones slain, but let your grief be mingled with joy that they died in such a cause, and that their works do follow them. Richer moral harvests shall be gathered from the soil nurtured by their blood. So has it been from Abel down through the ages." AMOS H. GIlbert. The first victim, among the soldiers from Worcester, who died in the war against the rebellion, was the young man named above. He took the lead in the long procession to the silent land. His name is among those who volunteered in the Guards when the news came of the surrender of Fort Sumter. He belonged to company A, Third Battalion Riflemen, and was twenty-two years of age when mustered into the service of the United States, May 19, 1861. He died of disease at Fort McHenry, on the succeeding fourth of July. The news of the first death, among our soldiers, produced a peculiar sen |