A face with A lasting brightness.
If I wanted a picture of the intrepid calm which knows how to face unmoved a crashing world, there could be found no truer face for it than that of
David Watson—a countenance which only seemed to light up in the rage of battle, but which kindled with a lasting brightness in the bloody angle at Spotsylvania Courthouse.
And if I sought as a companion piece that bright, joyous valor which meets danger, not as simple duty, but clasps her as bride, whose descent into danger is like the sea-bird's toss upon the waves, I would draw it from
Ned McCarthy, down to the hour when his bright day sank with the setting sun, in the fires of Cold Harbor.
Peer of any whom I have named, firm with the firmest, cool with the coolest, brave with the bravest, patient, heroic, and magnanimous was
Henry Jones.
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These were men worthy of renown in any field.
Their courage knew no danger.
On the restless front of battle they were stars.
I count it my greatest pride to have been their humblest follower.
And of that following what shall I say?
I will say that I count it the best of all academics, the noblest university.
No craven graduates in the firm tuition of God's discipline.
The lesson of courage in daily jeopardy; of patience under privation and strain; the pursuit of high aims in disdain of earthly menace or disaster was taught to me, I trust not all in vain, by the Howitzer battalion.
The heart to scorn death—nay, the heart to scorn self, the surrender of all for duty—was preached by their detachments from
Bethel to
Appomattox and from
Manassas to
Manassas—and then at the last, the highest, the bravest of all courage, the courage which shrinks not from defeat.
