Editor the _Journal_: I notice in a recent issue of the _Journal_
the death of Colonel John P. Fort at Tampa, Fla., on the 12th inst.
His home was in Mount Airy, Ga. In 1863 President Davis appointed
John P. Fort a lieutenant in the First regiment of Georgia regulars,
stationed at Hammocks Landing on the Appalachicola River, in
Florida. The first time I saw Lieutenant Fort under fire was at Lake
City, Fla., on the 10th of February, 1864. He was in command of
the skirmish line of the regulars, trying to hold in check General
Seamore's advance cavalry, who had dismounted and were fighting on
foot. The cavalry were too strong for the lieutenant and forced his
line back on the regiment, then mounted their horses and retreated
toward Jacksonville. As a reminder of the fight they left Lieutenant
Fort with a bullet hole through his hat. While Lieutenant Fort was
a gallant soldier, he was a gentleman in the true meaning of the
word, with his heart overflowing with kindness for his fellow-man.
One by one the regulars are crossing over the river to join their
comrades on the other shore, who are sleeping beneath the shade of
the beautiful trees in that home where all good soldiers who did
their full and complete duty are at rest. The last three to cross
were General King, General Lane, and Major Howard. There were about
eighty officers who served in the regulars during the war, and I
know of only eight who are still in the land of the living--General
Harrison, General Kirklin, Colonel Twiggs, Captain Wyley, Captain
Anthony, Captain Myers, Lieutenant Palmer, and Lieutenant
Blance--and they are swiftly gliding over the sea of time, waiting
to hear the keel of their lifeboat grate upon the other shore. Yet
a little while and the last Confederate soldier will have crossed
over the river, and their like will never be seen again. They fought
for the love of home and country, fought without reward or the hope
of reward, fought to the last ditch, and when all was lost except
honor, furled their flags for the last time, outnumbered five to
one, but never whipped.
Sweet be the sleep of Colonel John P. Fort. I loved him while living
and will cherish his memory until I am called to answer the last
roll call, and then I hope to meet him in the home of the blest.