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Lyman, Henry C.

MILITARY SERVICE

Age: 18, credited to Hinesburg, VT
Unit(s): 2nd VT INF
Service: enl 5/24/61, m/i 6/20/61, CPL, Co. K, 2nd VT INF, d/dis 8/11/61

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VITALS

Birth: 1843, Addison, VT
Death: 08/11/1861

Burial: Prospect Cemetery, Vergennes, VT
Marker/Plot: 156
Gravestone researcher/photographer: Alan Lathrop
Findagrave Memorial #: 42041628

MORE INFORMATION

Alias?: None noted
Pension?: Unknown
Portrait?: Unknown
College?: Not Found
Veterans Home?: Not Found
(If there are state digraphs above, this soldier spent some time in a state or national soldiers' home in that state after the war)

Remarks: None

DESCENDANTS

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BURIAL:

Copyright notice

Tombstone

Prospect Cemetery, Vergennes, VT

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Henry C. Lyman

The Caledonian, September 6, 1861

SAD INCIDENT OF THE WAR

We notice in the Vermonter an account of the funeral of Henry C. Lyman, who was a corporal in the Vergennes Company, 2d Vt. Regiment. He was a Hinesburg boy, and was much beloved and esteemed by his fellow soldiers and acquaintances. He was in the action of Bull run, and acted as color guard with signal courage and intrepidity. --- Soon after the engagement he was taken sick, and after a few days in the hospital at Alexandria left for home on furlough. The exhaustion of the rapid journey, however, affected him unfavorably, and he arrived at Vergennes on Saturday the 3d instant, unable to proceed further. He died the next day at one o'clock, but a few minutes before the arrival of his widowed mother.

His funeral was attended on the 6th by the Rev. Geo. B. Spalding of Vergennes, the "Smith Guard" from Hinesburg, and a large number of friends and townsmen generally. The following remarks by Captain Eaton do more than justice to his character and virtues.

" Again we are called to mourn for the young and gifted. Another victum of the grim demon of war. Pale and cold in his narrow home lies all that is left of Henry C. Lyman. Young in years, but mature in all that endears and ennobles human nature.---To his comrades who are still struggling for the cause he loved so well, his place can never be made good. Courteous and affable,, brave and generous, noble and daring--- not one of them all but would have done anything but dishonor to have averted an evil from his head. In the hour of battle, when shot and shell and shrapnel and shrieking Mine balls darkened the air, and the rustling of the dark angels wings could almost be heard,---death hovered so near--- he stood like a veteran soldier-,--- say rather like the eagle of his own native NORTH, daring the fiercest blasts of the storm god.

His father, and his father's father were soldiers. And in this hour of his country's great need, he responded to its call, and laid aside his books and bidding his sorrowing mother "farewell", he sought the scenes of conflict.----And to-day he lies beside his father in the silent grave-yard, so much a victim of the 21st of July as a rifle ball had pierced his heart on the field of battle. All along that tire march, when fainting and exhausted human nature must yield, but for the indomitable will, no repining or disheartening word escaped his lips; but onward, right onward: "Our brothers need our help." He came home like a wounded bird to die, and when the waters of the river of Death were closing around him, asked only to grasp his mother's hand, but yet once more, to bid her a last good-bye. It was not to be, And he went down into the "valley of the Shadow of Death" asking vainly in dyeing accents, "has she come?" His place by the camp-fire at the midnight bivouac is vacant. To his sorrowing comrades it can never be made good. And when the sentries are beating their solitary rounds at night, they will love to think that their brother's spirit, freed from the trammels that bind them, lingers near and points them with an angel hand to that "Better Land., where "wars and rumors of war are heard no more."

Peace on his ashes." May the sunshine linger o'er his grave the longest., May the birds there sing the sweetest, May the snow rest the lightest, may we meet again."

Submitted by Deanna French.

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