B. F. Cheatham, Major-General C. S. A. 353
tion. I gave them their first communion. I was with the General the week before his death,
" When subtle pain
Wrung his sad soul and racked his throbbing brain, When weary life, breathing reluctant breath, Had no hope sweeter than the hope of death."
And in that solemn hour when the battle was fought out, and the weary fainting soldier felt that the sword and shield were slipping from his stiffening hand, I gave him the most comfortable sacrament of the body and blood of his Saviour, and his lips breathed out his trust in his dear Redeemer.
I officiated at his funeral, at the request of his family taking the entire service both at the church and at the grave.
He was a great and a good man ; he was great wherever duty called, whether on the battlefield or in the walks of private life. " I have never seen the day," said Judge John Lawrence, an ex-Con- federate soldier, "when I did not want to take off my hat to the great man and hold his honest hand." He was as brave as the spot- less Bayard, and as chivalrous as Philip Sidney.
I have written this sketch hastily, and with few records from which to gather the facts, but the writing has brought before my mind a thousand sad, though sacred memories recollections of the dear boys of the First Tennessee regiment, whose Chaplain I was, of offi- cers and men with whom I was associated during all the war. Many have gone to their rest, the young have grown old, but ever fresh and green will their memory remain in my soul. I cannot better close than by quoting the following poem by the late General Charles G. Halpine, of the Federal army :
There are bonds of all sorts in this world of ours, Fetters of friendship and ties of flowers.
And true lovers' knots I ween ; The girl and the boy are bound by a kiss. But there's never a bond, old friend, like this
We have drunk from the same canteen !
It was sometimes water, and sometimes milk, And sometimes applejack, fine as silk,
But whatever the tipple has been, We shared it together, in bane or bliss, And I warm to you, friend, when I think of this
We drank from the same canteen !
