Wm. P. Bland, private of Co. G, 100th Reg, P.V., was killed in the battle of Bull Run on Friday evening, August 29th.
The subject of our notice was a youth of some twenty summers, and an only son of an aged father and mother, residing in Fairview township, Mercer county. He left his home on the 29th of August, 1861, for camp on Kalorama Heights, near Washington, where he remained for six weeks, and then sailed south in the "great naval expedition" which landed at Hilton Head, South Carolina. After a stay of several weeks on this island his regiment left for Beaufort under Brig. Gen. Stevens. Whilt there he, with his company, had much picket duty to perform, and when his General was called on to participate in the battle of James Island, he also shared in the engagement. In the early part of the summer his Division sailed north to Virginia, and was then put under command of General Burnside. During the month of August his regiment was almost constantly on the march day and night, and at the latter end of the month, shared in the battle of Bull Run, and just one year from the day he left his home a deadly missile from the enemy pierced his head and he fell a lifeless corpse.
We would say in honor of the departed, and in behalf of the family and friends of the same, that as a soldier he was obedient to his officers, faithful in performing his duty in camp or on the march, and when brought to face the enemy, pressed boldly forward with his comrades until he fell lifeless on the field of strife, a willing sacrifice for his country. He was not only a soldier in the cause of his country, but a soldier in the cause of Christ, and he strove to live in the fear of Him who created all things, and called him more than two years ago by his grace to seek an interest in the Redeemer's kingdom. Yet while we mourn our loss, we do not mourn as those without hope, but cherish the firm evidence that our loss is his eternal gain.
"Hark, the cry of death is ringing
Wildly from the reeking plain,
Guilty glory, too, is flinging
Proudly forth her vaulting strain,
Thousands on the field are lying,
Slaughtered in the useless strife,
Wildly mingled dead and dying,
Show the waste of human life.
Now a light is faintly gleaming
Through the cloud that hovers o'er,
Soon the brilliance of its beaming
Full upon our land will pour,
'Tis the light that tells the dawning,
Of Freedom's right and brighter day,
Heralding its blessed morning
With its peace bestowing ray."
Co. G, 100th Reg't, P. V.