I wonder if I could ever convey to another--to you, for instance, reader
dear--the tender and terrible realities of such cases, (many, many
happen'd,) as the one I am now going to mention. Stewart C. Glover,
company E, 5th Wisconsin--was wounded May 5, in one of those fierce
tussles of the Wilderness-died May 21--aged about 20. He was a small
and beardless young man--a splendid soldier--in fact almost an ideal
American, of his age. He had serv'd nearly three years, and would have
been entitled to his discharge in a few days. He was in Hancock's corps.
The fighting had about ceas'd for the day, and the general commanding
the brigade rode by and call'd for volunteers to bring in the wounded.
Glover responded among the first--went out gayly--but while in the act
of bearing in a wounded sergeant to our lines, was shot in the knee by
a rebel sharpshooter; consequence, amputation and death. He had resided
with his father, John Glover, an aged and feeble man, in Batavia,
Genesee county, N. Y., but was at school in Wisconsin, after the war
broke out, and there enlisted--soon took to soldier-life, liked it,
was very manly, was belov'd by officers and comrades. He kept a little
diary, like so many of the soldiers. On the day of his death he wrote
the following in it, _to-day the doctor says I must die--all is over
with me--ah, so young to die_. On another blank leaf he pencill'd to his
brother, _dear brother Thomas, I have been brave but wicked--pray for
me._