Page:War and its Heroes.djvu/59

Rh When the sun set on that tranquil evening—sinking slowly down behind the quiet forest, unstirred by the least breath of wind—the long and desperate struggle was decided. The enemy was retiring "badly hurt;" and General Stuart added in his dispatch, "We are after him. His dead men and horses strew the road."

No harder battle has been fought during the entire war; and never have the enemy reeled back in greater confusion before the Southern steel than here. Our heroes won the day by hard and desperate fighting, in charge after charge; but lost in the struggle some of the most valiant hearts that ever beat. Pullor, Harris and Pelham were among the number—the "gallant Pelham" of the battle of Fredericksburg. He was in the performance of his duty as chief of artillery, and was riding toward his general, when a regiment of cavalry swept by him in a charge. He was waving his hat aloft cheering them on, when a ball from a carbine struck him on the head, mortally wounding him. He lingered until after midnight, on the morning of the 18th, when General Stuart telegraphed to Mr. Curry, of Alabama:

"The noble, the chivalric, the gallant Pelham is no more. He was killed in action yesterday. His remains will be sent to you to-day. How much he was beloved, appreciated and admired, let the tears of agony we have shed, and the gloom of mourning throughout my command, bear witness. His loss is irreparable."

The body of the young officer was sent to Richmond—laid in state in the capital of Virginia—and we are told that "some tender hand deposited an evergreen wreath, intertwined with white flowers, upon the case that contained all that was mortal of the fallen hero." His family received the soldier's remains; they were taken to his Southern home; Virginia, the field of his fame, had surrendered him to Alabama, the land of his birth.

In a general order issued on the occasion, General Stuart said:

"To you, his comrades, it is needless to dwell upon what you have so often witnessed—his prowess in action—already proverbial. You well know how, though young in years—a mere stripling in appearance—remarkable for his genuine modesty of deportment—he yet disclosed on the battle-field the conduct of a veteran, and displayed, in his handsome person, the most imperturbable coolness in danger. His eye had glanced over every battle-field of this army, from the first Manassas to the moment of his death, and he was, with a single exception, a brilliant actor in all.

"The memory of the ',' his many virtues, his noble nature and purity of character, is enshrined as a sacred legacy in the hearts of all who knew him. His record has been bright and spotless; his career brilliant and successful. He fell—the noblest of sacrifices—on the altar of his country, to whose glorious service he had dedicated his life from the beginning of the war.

"In token of respect for his cherished memory, the Horse Artillery and division staff will wear the military badge of mourning for thirty days; and the