e fought bravely, he fell from his horse, killed instantly, bearing three wounds,—one, a graze on the left side of the head, concealed by his hair; a second, made by a buck-shot over his left eye, at the extreme upper edge of the forehead (also concealed); and the third, from a minie — bullet, entering just above the heart, and glancing downward directly through it, swift and fatal.
His body was stripped of cap, boots, and overcoat, sword and revolver, but was sent home safely, arriving December 11th.
A strictly private funeral took place the next day, when the remains were committed to the family lot in Spring Grove Cemetery, near Cincinnati.
The deceased was but twenty years and nine months old. The grief of the family was proportionate to the loss of such a son. His mother had a presentiment of his death on the very morning of the battle, though the news did not reach her till the following Tuesday.
Thus lived and perished a heroic young man. He was tall for his years, of han