| For The Worcester Spy Lieutenant J. William Grout In the list of killed at the battle of Ball’s Bluff is the name of the young officer at the head of this article. He was the only son of Jonathan Grout Esq., and was born in this city in 1843. It seems but as yesterday that he moved among us, a shy and unassuming boy, beloved by his associates, and familiarly known as Willie Grout. He early evinced a love for military pursuits, and when only five years old said to his teacher, when asked what he would like to be when a man “I want to be Zachary Taylor.” When leaving home a few years since, to enter Philips Academy, he took with him a drum, as a companion for his hours of recreation. For two or three years past his mind had been in a state of unrest on account of his inability to decide upon a profession for life, nothing proposed seeming to meet the demands of his nature; and it was not until he entered the Highlands School in this city that he found, in the military department, especially, his tastes gratified. He became a member of the Highland Cadets, and for a year or more was captain of the company. When war was declared he expressed a wish at once to enter the army, but his parents withheld their consent, chiefly on account of his youth. When, however , they yielded to his importunities, his joy knew no bounds, and with all the ardor of his nature, he engaged in the work of preparation for his new calling. he slept on the floor of his chamber, in order to inure himself of the hardships of the camp. His knowledge of military tactics was such, that his service as a drill officer , were in constant demand; and in this capacity he passed many pleasant hours the past summer, with the young men of this city and vicinity. When Massachusetts 15th regiment was organized, he received the commission of second lieutenant of company D, an honor rarely bestowed upon so young a person. He was very popular in his company, and in the regiment generally. His numerous friends who saw him in camp, will recall his manly form, the crimson glow of health that mantled his cheeks, and his fine military bearing all combined to make him “every inch a soldier.” To one who took his hand the day of departure of his regiment, remarking, “I hope there will be no fighting,” he replied,” If there is to be any I want to be there.” And he was here and nobly did he discharge his duty it was observed that he displayed a great coolness and bravery, and in one instance , at least, his right arm did signal execution. When all hope had fled, and the day was evidently lost, and the order to retreat given he knew that he and his associates had done all that men could do, and that Massachusetts had reason to be proud of the conduct of her sons, on that dreadful field of blood and carnage. Alas that even then his work was done, and his warfare finished. He had gained the middle of the stream, and would soon have reached the opposite bank, when a fatal shot pierced him, and he exclaimed, “Tell company D I could have reached the shore, but I am shot, I must sink!” and as the waters closed over him, the spirit took its flight, to be forever free of the throes and conflicts of earth. When his death was announced, Col. Devens remarked, with deep emotion, “Dear little fellow, he came to me at the close of he battle and said,” Colonel is there anything more I can do for you?” I replied “nothing , but to take care of yourself. ”Similar testimony to his bravery and fidelity , has been received from numerous sources. It is an impressive illustration of the desolations caused by war, that while we are writing, after a search such as paternal agony only could induce, his bereaved father is returning to his now desolate home, without even the consolation of bringing him back with him what was mortal of the idol of his affections. Let us hope however, that the Potomac, whose waters are associated with memories dear to every American heart, will yet yield up the youthful dead, and permit his ashes to find a last resting place among sepulchres of the fathers. And now generous companion and brave young soldier, farewell! Thy memory will long be green in many hearts, and thy native city will cherish, among the memorials of her honored sons, the name of him, who in his eighteenth summer, laid himself a willing sacrifice upon the altar of his country. The record of that sad conflict of Ball’s Bluff, tell the story of the fall of one of the oldest and one of the youngest of the Union forces. One, high in political position and the pride of the western domain(let the tear of charity forever erase the remembrance of his mistakes, if any he made, for he was a peerless man, and a tower of strength to the nation); the other, a fitting representative of the unconquerable pluck and the chivalrous daring of the young men of the oldest commonwealth in the in the Union. Thus were united upon the same altar of patriotism and love of country, the Atlantic and the Pacific, the blossoms of youth and the frosts of age! Oh, who, in view of such pledges and such consecrations, can dispair, whatever may be the reverses of the moment, and the final triumph of the republic! H. S. W. |