USA > Pennsylvania > Martial deeds of Pennsylvania, Vol. 2 > Part 39
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Upon this motion Mr. Stevens made his noted speech. Great expectation had been aroused, and most of the members of the State Government and the Senate were present. He was then in the prime of manhood and in the full strength of his great intellect, and its effect was electrical. Mr. M. B. Lowry, who was then a member of that body, describes the attitude and bearing of Mr. Stevens as he appeared in the fervor of debate as that of a descended god. The vote was taken immediately after its close, and, says Mr. Stevens, "I was both surprised and grati-
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fied to find, I think, for I speak from memory, about fourteen majority for it, and on the vote to agree to the bill as amended it carried by over thirty. It was sent to the Senate and at once concurred in." It is not often that a speech in a deliberative body influences many votes; but this undoubtedly had the effect to sway both branches of the Legislature from strong opposition backed by an excited and almost unanimous population, to the support of his bill. He was throughout severe but lofty in his sentiment. In speaking of the old law for educating the poor gratis, he said : "Sir, hereditary distinctions of rank are suf- ficiently odious; but that which is founded on poverty is infinitely more so. Such a law should be entitled 'An act for branding and marking the poor, so that they may be known from the rich and proud.'" In the progress of his argument upon the great boon in the Common School he said: "Sir, when I reflect how apt hereditary wealth, hereditary influence, and perhaps, as a consequence, hereditary pride are to close the avenues and steel the heart against the wants and rights of the poor, I am induced to thank my Creator for having from early life bestowed upon me the blessing of poverty. Sir, it is a blessing; for if there be any human sensation more ethereal and divine than all others, it is that which feelingly sympathizes with misfortune. . . What renders the name of Socrates immortal but his love of the human family, exhibited under all circumstances and in con- tempt of every danger ?"
" Pennsylvania's sons," he continues, "possess as high native talents as any other nation of ancient or modern time! Many of the poorest of her children possess as bright intellectual gems, if they were as highly polished, as did the proudest scholars of Greece or Rome. But too long, too disgracefully long, has coward, trembling, procrastinating legislation permitted them to lie buried in 'dark unfathomed caves.'" But the passage of this speech which made the greatest impression, and which is even now recalled with a feeling of delight, was that in which he referred to Governor Wolf. The Governor was opposed to him in politics, and sharp passages in public matters had passed between them. But upon the subject of education they were at one, and upon this he said : "I have seen the present
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chief magistrate of this Commonwealth violently assailed as the projector and father of this law. I am not the eulogist of that gentleman ; he has been guilty of many political sins, but he deserves the undying gratitude of the people for the steady, untiring zeal which he has manifested in favor of common schools. I will not say that his exertions in that cause have covered all, but they have atoned for many of his errors. I trust that the people of this State will never be called on to choose between a supporter and an opposer of free schools. But if it should come to that-if that should be made the turning point on which we are to cast our suffrages-if the opponent of educa- tion were my most intimate personal and political friend, and the free school candidate my most obnoxious enemy-I should deem it my duty as a patriot, at this moment of our intellectual crisis, to forget all other considerations, and I should place myself unhesitatingly and cordially in the ranks of HIM WHOSE BANNERS STREAM IN LIGHT."
In 1836 he was a member of the convention to revise the State constitution, and took an active part. Previous to this the constitution recognized the right of suffrage without distinction 1 of color; but a majority favored restricting it to white male citizens above a certain age. This he opposed with great vigor, and when the labors were concluded he refused to sign the instru- ment. In 1838 he was appointed Canal Commissioner, then one of the most important offices in the Government on account of the vast expenditures being made for internal improvements. At the succeeding election for Governor a fierce struggle ensind for the supremacy, and parties being pretty evenly balanced, both can- didates claimed to be elected. The military were called out, the President was applied to for aid, and from the fact that a Govern- ment storekeeper in Philadelphia sent to Harrisburg an immense amount of buck-shot, it was called the BUCK-SHOT WAR, though it ended in compromise without bloodshed. Mr. Stevens cham- pioned Governor Ritner's cause, which was the losing one.
In 1842 he removed to Lancaster, where he pursued his profes- sion, and engaged largely in the manufacture of iron. In 1848 he was elected to Congress and was reelected in 1850, serving through that exciting period when the admission of California,
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the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and the Kansas-Nebraska embroglio were debated by the giants of the American forum. In 1858 he was again elected, and remained a member till the day of his death. He was among the earliest to declare the aboli- tion of slavery the only alternative of the Government, and pre- sented the Indemnity Act, the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution, and advocated the arming and disciplining one hundred and fifty thousand colored soldiers. In the Thirty-ninth Congress he was chairman of the Committee on Appropriations, and a member of the Committee on Reconstruction, giving him- self unreservedly to the preparation and advocacy of all those measures adopted to settle the affairs of the distracted country. He assisted in drafting the articles of impeachment against President Johnson, and was chairman of the committee of seven who managed the case on the part of the House, preparing an argument justly regarded as a masterpiece for cogency and power.
One of the most striking characteristics of Mr. Stevens' oratory was his allusions to the Bible and to the classics of antiquity. In answer to the argument that the negro was a different order of being from the white man he said: "I have listened to the golden-mouthed gentleman from New York, Mr. Brooks, in his attempt to prove the Bible a lie. That book says God created of one blood all the nations of the earth. The gentleman, however, contends that there were several different varieties, and that all nations were not created of one blood. The question at issue between the gentleman from New York and the Author of that sacred volume I shall not attempt to decide -- it is too high for me." When Mr. Johnson, then President, on one occasion, while the Fourteenth Amendment was under consideration, came into the capitol and told a member that the amendment was not needed, and then had the conversation published, Mr. Stevens said, in alluding to it, "This authorized utterance was made in such a way that centuries ago, had it been made to Parliament by a British king, it would have cost him his head. But, sir, we pass that by : we are tolerant of usurpation in this tolerant Gov- ernment of ours."
Mr. Stevens' mind held out in all its early strength and vigor long after his poor feeble body was exhausted. One of his last
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speeches is thus described by an eye-witness : "He spoke for about ten minutes, at first with noticeable difficulty. Nearly the entire house gathered into the aisles and areas within twenty- five feet of him. Of the first half of his remarks not a word was heard in the galleries. Then like a candle dying in its socket he flamed up with an energy that carried his utterances to the listener in the remotest corner of the chamber. It was a wonder- ful exhibition of will and determination. It could not last. The physical forces of the old body have gone away, and three or four minutes completely exhausted it and dropped Mr. Stevens back into his chair paler and more emaciated, seemingly, than ever before." He conversed freely about his approaching end and seemed to welcome it. He refused to be buried in the beautiful cemetery at Lancaster, because its managers would not allow people of color to be interred in it. He desired only a simple tablet laid over his grave, and remarked in relation to it, "I suppose, like the rest of the fools, we shall have to get something stuck up in the air; let it be plain." He died at midnight of Tuesday, August 11th, 1868.
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CHAPTER II.
LD JOHN BURNS, the Civilian Hero of Gettys- burg, without official title, but with renown which shall be lasting when brass and marble moulder, was born at Burlington, New Jersey, on the 5th of September, 1793. His father, Joseph Burns, was a Scotchman from the banks of the &D.R. U.S. Dee, and a relative of the poet ; his mother, Polly 1 Dobson, of English descent. Fearless by nature, provocation served but to whet the edge of his resolve, and when, after long-suffering outrage and wrong, the United States declared war against Great Britain in 1812, young Burns was among the first in the ranks. The recollections of those eighteen months of service were never effaced nor dimmed, and when, a short time before his death -- then at the verge of eighty -- the subject was broached, the fire of his eye and the compression of his lips, as he recounted their eventful course, revealed his fearless and heroic nature. He was of the company of Captain Barton, of the Tenth regiment, and marched to New York, thence to Albany by boat, proceeded to Greenbush where he joined the army of General Scott, with it moved to Sackett's Harbor, crossed to Canada, and was at Plattsburg and Queens- town. In the battle of Lundy's Lane, when the conflict was at its height, and the event still doubtful, General Brown, who com- manded the American force, came dashing up to Major Miller, who was leading Burns' regiment, his horse foaming with excite- ment, and, pointing to a powerful six gun battery of the enemy posted upon an eminence and doing fearful execution, exclaimed : " Major Miller, can you take that battery ?" Miller was a man of few words, and he simply responded, "I can try." "We all knew what that meant," says Burns; "for while one of his men
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should live we knew that Miller would never rest till that battery was his." The order to fix bayonets and charge was promptly given, and Miller, placing himself at the head of the column, led on. Darkness overshadowed all-as the battle was fought from sundown to midnight -- except as the blaze of the guns lit up the field. The slaughter was fearful; but that coveted eminence was scaled, the guns captured, and turned on the foe. That heroic exploit was the turning point in the battle, and at midnight the British retired, leaving the Americans masters of the field. Tears would fill the eyes of Burns, and his brawny figure heave with emotion, as he told the words of his brave old leader, and described the fiery ardor of his General.
Burns remained upon the frontier through two winters, and until peace was declared. He enlisted with the first for the war with Mexico, and after drilling and patiently awaiting orders, was in the end sorely disappointed to receive notice that his com- pany could not be accepted. He was a member of the militia in Newtown, commanded by Weanansel, John and Jonathan Wynkoop. When the Hon. Edward McPherson, then member of Congress from the Gettysburg district, and since Clerk of the House, formed his company for three months' service, Burns shoul- dered his musket and putting himself in the ranks marched to the camp at West Chester; but when it came to be mustered into the service of the United States, he was rejected on account of his age and sent home. The quiet little town of Gettysburg was too small for a man like Burns, and he travelled on foot to Hagers- town, joining the wagon train. Near the close of May, ho was sent to Frederick with a fresh supply of animals, and soon after, his fidelity being appreciated, he was made police officer of the wagon camp. He was at the battle of Falling Waters; and when the booming of the cannon and the rattle of musketry were borne to his ears, he gave his whip to another. exclaiming, "They may want me over there," and started for the field; but before he reached it Jackson had been routed. He remained in the column of Banks after the departure of Patterson, until winter set in, a period of seven months, when he was again sent home.
His fellow-townsmen, reverencing his patriotic impulses, and
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thinking that by giving him employment in which he should feel responsibility he might be kept from the field, at the borough clection in the spring of 1862, chose him constable. This bad the desired effect, and until the invasion of the State he devoted himself diligently to his official duties. At one period of his life Burns had been given to dissipation ; but in later years he was not only a disciple of temperance, but of strict total abstinence, and never was a man more earnest and consistent in his profes- sions. The unlawful sale of alcoholic liquors found in him an uncompromising foe.
On Sunday, June the 21st, preceding the great battle, Captain John Scott, with fourteen men, among whom was Burns, went out fourteen miles into the mountains, on the Chambersburg road, for the purpose of bushwhacking the enemy; but met Union scouts and were turned back. On Friday, the 26th, Early came with his division to Gettysburg, infantry, cavalry, and artillery, and Burns, perhaps showing himself a little too officious, was taken prisoner and held in custody until Sunday, when the rebel leader departed on his way to York. The fiery spirit of Burns could illy brook this vile durance and insult to his authority as a civil officer, and we may imagine him ready to answer in the language of the resolute constable in a village of the old Bay State, when a bully threatened to shake him, "You may shake; but remember, if you shake me you shake the whole State of Massachusetts." Towards evening of that same Sunday, Burns caught a rebel chaplain, George Gwin, riding with messages from Ewell to Early, and a trooper, and locked them up in the Gettys- burg jail. On the following day he seized one of White's guerillas, who gave the name of Talbut, and him, also, he held fast in jail. Buford with his cavalry came on Tuesday, and after resting an hour in the streets, moved out to McPherson's farm and encamped. The appearance of the old flag and the veterans of Buford brought joy to the old man's heart. Hitherto he had been single-handed in facing the whole rebel army. He hailed with satisfaction the van of the Army of the Potomac, coming to his support. On the following morning came Reynolds leading the First corps. Burns was on the alert; yet he was a man who never meddled with any business except his own and kept
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aloof from the General's cavalcade; but when hailed by Reynolds on his return from his interview with Buford, and asked to point out a near way to get through the outskirts of the town to meet the head of his column, Burns joyfully performed the office. When the leading division came on, and the pioneers, obedient to the order of Reynolds, were levelling the fences through the fields to open a way to Seminary Ridge, Burns was at hand, and the flashing of their bright axes in the morning sunlight made an indelible impression upon him. Burns could never restrain his enthusiasm in describing this scene; but would spring to his feet and swing his arms as though handling one of those shining implements and laying low the fences before him.
Going back towards his own home he met two wounded soldiers of Buford's command returning to town. "Ah, my lads," says Burns, "your guns are needed over yonder; but you are bleed- ing, and are too weak to carry them; give one of them to me." This the soldier addressed resolutely refused. The other, morc accurately discerning the old man's spirit, said to his companion, "Give it to him. You can't use it." " What do you want to do with it ?" asked the soldier. "Shoot the d --- d rebels," was the old man's curt reply. It was given, and filling his pockets with cartridges, he hurried forward and came upon the Union line where Stone's brigade was hotly engaged. He was first accosted by Major Chamberlain of the One Hundred and Fiftieth Penn- sylvania, with, " Old man, where are you going ?" "I want a chance," said Burns. "A chance for what ?" "To shoot," replied the old man, his eye fired with excitement and his whole frame swayed with emotion. Chamberlain referred him to Colonel Wister. To the question if he could be allowed to fight, Wister replied, " Yes, and I wish there were many more like you. But you have no ammunition." "Yes, I have," said Burns, slapping his pockets. " Do you know how to shoot ?" "Give me a chance," cried Burns, " and I will show you whether I can shoot or not." "You may have a chance," said the Colonel, " but this open ground is no place for an old man like you. Go over to the woods with the Iron Brigade, where you can have some shelter." He went as directed, and joining the Seventh Wisconsin, Lieu- tenant Colonel Callis, opened upon the rebels. But the wood did
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not suit him. He wanted a fair unobstructed view, and went to a fence in the open ground. Among his acquaintances he had always been known as a dead shot. He was now in no haste to create smoke; but awaiting his opportunity, he fired only when he saw something that he could hit. He watched especially for men mounted, and many a saddle was emptied. His unerring aim attracted the attention of the soldiers and officers of the Seventh, and Colonel Callis sent him a fine silver-mounted rifle that had been captured from the enemy in the battle of Antietam. Away across Willoughby Run was seen an officer riding a beautiful gray horse. He came on, leading his men with the utmost gallantry. He was pointed out to Burns, and that beautiful charger was soon seen galloping riderless over the field, and the old hero was saluted by three cheers from the soldiers who were watching him. At one o'clock there was a lull in the battle and he lay down upon the grass to rest. On looking about he was startled by seeing a hand lying on the ground that had been torn from the body by some terrible missile ; but the body whose pulsations had warmed it was nowhere to be seen. When the battle was renewed he went again earnestly to work. The enemy, strong and well supported, pushed forward fearlessly, while the Union force had but one thin line, and that now fearfully decimated. Burns took little care of his person, and he was finally struck in the side by two musket shots that eventually produced a rupture; but still he would not yield. Again he was struck, now on the buckle of his belt, the shock bending him nearly double, and for a few moments he could not speak; but he recovered himself, and might then have retired with honor and safety, the brigade with which he had been fighting having already gone. But now the enemy were coming nearer, and his chances for shooting were rapidly improving, and he stood at his post firing away until the rebel line was close upon him, when he received a severe wound in the arm, an artery being severed, from which the hemorrhage came near proving fatal, and another in his leg, the limb being com- pletely paralyzed, and he could do no more-neither retire nor even stand. His first thought was to divest himself of every appearance of a combatant, well knowing that he could not hope for mercy with the evidences of having participated in the fight
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found upon him. He accordingly threw away his gun, and the four cartridges which still remained in his pocket he buried, digging for the purpose with his pocket-knife. Weakened by the loss of blood he soon became oblivious, and when the final charge of the enemy was made he was insensible, and was passed for dead. At about six o'clock in the evening a sergeant and six men engaged in gathering the wounded, attracted by the strange sight of an old gray-headed man in his ordinary dress, bleeding from numerous ghastly wounds, approached and stood spell-bound before him. After a moment's silence they turned him upon his side, and seeing that he was still alive, inquired, "How came you here ?" "My wife," answered Burns, "was taken suddenly sick this morning, and I started off from the town to cross this field in search of a girl who lives out beyond here to come and take care of her and was caught between the two lines, and as you see am badly wounded." "I believe he is an old liar," said the sergeant; "but he will never harm us any more," and passed on, leaving him in his misery. IIe then dragged himself along on the grass to where two dead rebels and a Union man with thigh all crushed by a cannon shot were lying. Not long after burying parties came and covered his three dead companions with earth where they lay, to whom he repeated the story of hunting a girl; but they were alike incredulous. He finally fell asleep and rested till eleven, when he was awakened by the tramping of a sergeant posting his guards. It had been raining and he was chilled. He called to the guard for a drink of water, which was given him, and a blanket in which he wrapped himself.
At dawn he heard the cocks crowing, and saw a guard not far off, towards whom he began to roll and pull himself along. An officer approached and told him to get to a hospital. By great exertions and with excruciating pain-for his clothing was stiff and rasped the lips of the undressed wounds-he reached a little log-house and pulled himself upon the cellar door, when his strength failed him and he fainted, and it was some time before he recovered. He was taken up and carried into the loft of the house, which was full of wounded. Seeing his exhausted condition he was offered some blackberry wine by the good woman, but he stub-
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bornly refused it from a rigid sense of his duty in view of his pledge to total abstinence. He sent a message to an old friend who lived near to come and take him back to the town; but before he arrived, a neighbor, Anthony Sullivan, was returning with his family, and laying Burns gently in the wagon carried him to his own home, arriving at about two o'clock on the afternoon of the 2d of July. The report had spread that he was killed, he having been last seen badly wounded, and it was with a thrill of joy and relief to a heart burdened with anxiety and grief that he was met at the cottage door by his wife. But his home was now a hospital crowded with mutilated soldiers. A place was made for him in an upper room, and his wounds were dressed by the surgeon in charge, a Major of the Confederate army from North Carolina. As General Ewell was passing his window the doctor asked Burns if he had ever seen the General, and kindly raised him up to look out. Burns gazed an instant, and then, as though not impressed with the General's appearance, exclaimed : "Humph ! the old booger has only one leg, and has to be strapped on his horse." On Friday a Captain and a Lieutenant visited the house and approaching him inquired, "Well, old man, how did you come wounded ?" Again he had recourse to the story of the sick wife. "But who shot you ? your own men or ours ?" "I can't tell that," said Burns, " I could get no farther than the Union line, and when I was wounded I sat down and could not get back until brought in by my neighbor." But this did not satisfy his questioner, who, as appears, had been enlight- ened respecting Burns' case by some of the townspeople, and gruffly responded, "Look here, old man, didn't you take a gun from a soldier out on the street here, Wednesday morning ?" " Yes, I did." "Well, what did you say when you took it?"
" Why, I said a heap of things. Folks say a heap of things in these times." "Didn't you say that you was going out to shoot some of the d -- d rebels ?" Burns was helpless, and in the power of his enemies, but his spirit was undaunted, and he promptly and resolutely responded, "Yes, I did say just that thing." His questioners had but one argument remaining. They silently left the house, and procured two riflemen, who, going into a chamber on the opposite side of the street, took deliberate
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aim at the old man as he lay helpless upon his couch. The missiles penetrated the bed under him, just missing his body, Realizing that their purpose was to kill him he rolled upon the floor and crawled into the next room. Supposing that he was under the bed they fired several shots, and hearing nothing concluded they had effected their design. But now the last charge had been delivered and the day had gone hopelessly against the foe. At three o'clock on Saturday morning guards came and aroused all-quietly removing the wounded-the trains being already in full retreat.
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