24 Southern Historical Society Papers.
nected with the matter, except the sad scene at the grave, seems to have faded out of my recollection. I know he was buried in our family lot in Hollywood, and, as no one of us was buried there for long years after this, we must have bought the lot for the purpose. Yes; I remember, too, that we laid him to rest with military honors, Captain Gay's company, the "Penitentiary Guard," acting as escort, and I must have ridden in the carriage with the stricken widow and his two little girls, for, I distinctly recall standing between the children at the side of the open grave, and holding a hand of each, as the body of their hero- father was lowered to its last resting place. I remember, too, that not a muscle of their pale, sweet faces quivered, as the three volleys were fired over the low mound that covered him. They were the daughters of a soldier.
"OBEDIENCE UNTO DEATH."
My story is done, and I feel that it is worthy of recital and remem- brance. Indeed, it embodies the most impressive instance I have ever known, of trenchant, independent thought and uncalculating, unflinching obedience to the resulting conviction of duty "obe- dience unto death."
Observe, Beers had never been South, and had no idea of ever going there, until the Southern States were invaded. Observe again, he was not a man without ties, a homeless and heartless adventurer, but a complete man a man blessed with wife and children and home, and withal a faithful and affectionate husband and father. Observe, once more, he was not an unsuccessful or disappointed man. On the contrary, I have seldom known a man who had a position more perfectly congenial and satisfactory to him, or whose prospects were brighter or more assured. It was simply and purely and only his conviction of right and duty which led him to us and to his gallant death.
One feature of the poor fellow's story of intense power and color has been purposely omitted. I refer to his parting with his parents. It is my strong desire that this sketch shall not contain one word calculated to bring unnecessary pain to the heart of any relative of my dear friend, under whose eye it may chance to fall. If you would pass just and charitable judgment upon his family, try for a moment to conceive what would have been the feelings of a Southern father and mother and family circle toward a son and brother who, in 1861,
