The dying soldier, on being laid down, held out his hand to my friend the Captain, which was not only cordially received, but pressed with pity and tenderness by that officer. “Sir,” said the unhappy man, gazing upon his Captain with such a look as I shall never forget—“Sir, you have been my best friend ever since I entered the regiment—you have been every man's friend in the company, and a good officer.—God bless you!—You saved me once from punishment, which you and all knew afterwards, that I was unjustly sentenced to.—God bless you!”—Here the tears came from his eyes, and neither the Captain nor any one around could conceal their kindred sensation. All wept silently.
The poor sufferer resumed;—“I have only to beg, Sir, you will take care that my dear wife and little ones shall have my back pay as soon as possible:—I am not many hours for this world.” The Captain pressed his hand, but could not speak. He hid his face in his handkerchief.
“I have done my duty, Captain—have I not, Sir?”
“You have, Tom, you have—and nobly done it,” replied the Captain, with great emotion.
“God bless you!—I have only one thing more to say.”—Then addressing one of his comrades, he asked for his haversack, which was immediately handed to him.—“I have only one thing to say, Captain:” said he, “I have not been very well this week, Sir, and did not eat all my rations.—I have one biscuit—it is all I possess.—You, as well as others, Sir, are without bread;—take it for the sake of a poor grateful soldier—take it—take it, Sir, and God be with you—God Almighty be with you!”
The poor, good-natured creature was totally exhausted, as he concluded; he leaned back—his eyes grew a dull glassy colour—his face still paler, and he expired in about ten minutes after, on the spot. The Captain wept like a child.
Few words were spoken. The body was borne along with us to the wood where the division was bivouacked, and the whole of the company to which the man belonged attended his interment, which took place in about two hours after.
He was wrapped in his blanket, just as he was, and laid in the earth. The Captain himself read a prayer over his grave, and pronounced a short, but impressive eulogy on the merits of the departed. He showed the men the biscuit, as he related to them the manner in which it had been given to him, and he declared he would never taste it, but _keep_ the token in remembrance of the good soldier, even though he starved. The commissary, however, arrived that night, and prevented the necessity of trial to the Captain's amiable resolution. At the same time, I do believe, that nothing would have made him eat the biscuit.