Thus friends and foes the same sad fortune shar'd,
And sickness swallowed whom the sword had spar'd.
Many gallant men were the victims of count D'Estang's folly in this affair; among the number was that impetuous Polander, the count Polaski.
But none fell more universally lamented than the heroic Jasper. Every reader must wish to hear the last of this brave and generous soldier. And they shall have it faithfully, for I happened to be close by him when he received his death's wound; and I was with him when he breathed his last.
Early in the action, the elegant colors presented by Mrs. Elliot, had been planted on the enemy's works; and the fury of the battle raged near the spot where they waved. During the whole of the bloody fray, Jasper had remained unhurt. But on hearing the retreat sounded, he rushed up to bear off his colors, and in that desperate act, was mortally wounded. As he passed by me, with the colors in his hands, I observed he had a bad limp in his walk.
"You are not much hurt, I hope, Jasper," said I.
"Yes, major," he replied, "I believe I have got my furlough."
"Pshaw," quoth I, "furlough indeed, for what?"
"Why to go home," he answered, "to go to Heaven, I hope."
"Pooh!" said I, and having, as the reader must suppose, a good deal to attend to, I turned off and left him. However, his words made such an impression on me, that soon as duty permitted, I went to see him, and found too true what he had predicted; the ball had opened a blood vessel in the lungs which no art could stop, and he was bleeding to slow but certain death.
As I entered the tent, he lifted his eyes to me, but their fire was almost quenched; and stretching his feeble hand, he said, with perfect tranquillity, "Well, major, I told you I had got my furlough."