Identifier: slaveryfouryears02keif (find matches)
Title: Slavery and four years of war : a political history of slavery in the United States, together with a narrative of the campaigns and battles of the Civil War in which the author took part, 1861-1865
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors: Keifer, Joseph Warren, 1836-1932
Subjects: Keifer, Joseph Warren, 1836-1932 Slavery United States
Publisher: New York London : G.P. Putnam's Sons
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

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rifle ball. Many others of these regiments had fallen (near-by) on the heights of Orange Grove, the November before.Grant, long after, acknowledged the injustice of his statement. After I had been wounded, though yet in command of theattacking force, a Major rode up from, the left, and reportedto me that his officers and men were falling fast, and expressedthe fear that they could not be long held to their work. Hewas directed to cheer them with the hope that the expectedsupport would soon arrive. As he swung his horse around toreturn, it was shot, fell, and the Major, lighting on his feet,without a word quickly disappeared (as seen by the light offlashing rifles) among the dense scrub pines. He never wasseen again, nor his body found. He must have been killed,and his body consumed later by the great conflagration which,feeding on the dry timber and debris, swept the battle-field,licking up the precious blood and cremating the bodies of the War Records, vol. xxxvi., Part II., p. 480.
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O 2 ^ I -I- ^ < J Wilderness 85 martyr dead. This was the gallant McElwain, who, in theearly morning, expressed so much anxiety for my safety. Colonel William H. Ball, on hearing, late at night, of mywound, inquired particularly as to its nature, and being assuredit was serious, characteristically exclaimed: Good! he willget home now and survive the war; his fighting days areover. Not so, nor yet with him. As I was borne to the leftalong the rear of the line on a stretcher towards the field-hospital, about midnight, a quickened ear caught the soundof a voice, giving loud command, familiar to me years beforeat my home city. I summoned the officer, and found him tobe my fellow-townsman, Colonel Edwin C. Mason, then com-manding the 7th Maine. A day or two more and he, too, wasseverely wounded. I had seen something of war, but, for the first time, my lotwas now cast with the dead, dying, and wounded in the rear.A soldier on the line of battle sees his comrades fall, indifTer-ently gene

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