| The Life of Dr. J.R. Miller |
Chapter 4 |
Page 4 |
The man who could minister so tenderly to children was capable of the heartiest sympathy with the woes of older people, as was evident from the very next record in the journal:
“Five men were sentenced to be shot today for the crime of desertion. Wednesday afternoon, while waiting on the platform for the train going eastward, my attention was directed to two ladies also waiting for the train. One of these was very old and frail, with tottering step, bowed head, and time silvered hair. Her eyes were sore with weeping, and a swift glance told me that some great burden was resting on her heart. The other was young, evidently a daughter of the elder lady, with a face sober and thoughtful, and while she stood her eyes wandered listlessly and absentmindedly upon the scenes around. A commonplace inquiry on the part of the younger lady opened a conversation between us, and on the way to Relay House I had frequent conversation with her. She told me of her mission to Harper’s Ferry. Her brother was one of the numbers to be shot that day. The old lady was his mother. His father was an old man of nearly eighty, too frail to leave his room, and both parents were evidently near death. Eleven weeks ago her brother left home without telling anyone of his intentions. No tidings came of him till last Friday morning, when the telegraph bore the sad message: ‘Father, I am in prison here, sentenced to be shot the 17th. Am not guilty of desertion as they say. Can’t you do something to save me?’ The father could not leave his chamber, but the heartbroken mother and sister hurried forward at once to Washington, and by an interview with the President had the sentence suspended. Then they came to Harper’s Ferry to see the boy. They saw him twice, and then hurried forward again to Washington, on which journey I met them…
“Before the hour appointed for execution all but two of the convicted men had been respited. The execution of the sentence remaining three was suspended. The hour came, however, and the two for whom there seemed now no hope of mercy were borne off to the appointed place, and all the solemn preparations were enacted. In a few minutes more, or perhaps only seconds, the ill-fated men would have been launched into eternity. But just at the last moment, when their hands were pinioned and preparations were making for the sentence, an orderly dashed up on horseback with an order to stop the execution of the sentence. The orderly had ridden with all possible speed. His horse had fallen in the road and was able to go no farther. He seized another horse and dashed on, waving the paper in his hands, that they might see him coming, lest he should be too late. He was just in time, and the poor men yet lived.”
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