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- Feb 5, 2017
From Major Brinton's Memoirs - Trigger Warning - this involves cowardice
The question of courage, personal courage, is a strange one. At the storming of Fort Donelson was a young regimental lieutenant, who distinguished himself by his lack of personal bravery. When his regiment advanced, he became demoralized, in fact to use the western phrase "stampeded." Instead of leading his men on, he dropped back, and lay down behind a fallen tree. For a while he was safe, but while endeavoring to stock still further to the rear, he was wounded from behind, a stray ball injuring his knee joint. He refused all operation, and died a few days later from septic poisoning. He did not appear to greatly fear death, but although he knew he was disgraced in the eyes of his comrades, he still had an idea that he was, after all, a martyr. I saw him not very long before his death, and as I parted from him, his last words to me were, "Doctor, the tree of liberty is watered with my blood."
His poor old father, quite a prominent officer of a neighboring state, felt deeply the stain on his name. He said to me that under the circumstances he would rather his son should die than live. He was a brave old Spartan; his great desire was to enlist as a private soldier in the regiment in which his son had been and thus try and obliterate the disgrace of his name. This attempt on his part was absolutely forbidden; but I can never forget the grim set of the old man's jaw.
Again - who were these people? Does anyone know?
The question of courage, personal courage, is a strange one. At the storming of Fort Donelson was a young regimental lieutenant, who distinguished himself by his lack of personal bravery. When his regiment advanced, he became demoralized, in fact to use the western phrase "stampeded." Instead of leading his men on, he dropped back, and lay down behind a fallen tree. For a while he was safe, but while endeavoring to stock still further to the rear, he was wounded from behind, a stray ball injuring his knee joint. He refused all operation, and died a few days later from septic poisoning. He did not appear to greatly fear death, but although he knew he was disgraced in the eyes of his comrades, he still had an idea that he was, after all, a martyr. I saw him not very long before his death, and as I parted from him, his last words to me were, "Doctor, the tree of liberty is watered with my blood."
His poor old father, quite a prominent officer of a neighboring state, felt deeply the stain on his name. He said to me that under the circumstances he would rather his son should die than live. He was a brave old Spartan; his great desire was to enlist as a private soldier in the regiment in which his son had been and thus try and obliterate the disgrace of his name. This attempt on his part was absolutely forbidden; but I can never forget the grim set of the old man's jaw.
Again - who were these people? Does anyone know?
Bringing the