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THE NATIONAL TKIBUNE: WASHINGTON, D. C, OCTOBER 22, 1881,
BY GEOUGE PAR.-OK3 liATHttOP.
The sun had set ;
The leaves with dew were wet:
Down fell a bloody dusk
On the woods, that second of May,
Where Stonewall's corps, like a beast of prey,
Tore through, with angry tusk.
""They've trapped us, boys ! "
Kose from our flank a voice.
With a rush of steel and smoke
On came the Rebels straight.
Eager as love and wild as hate :
And our line reeled and broke :
Broke and fled.
No one stayed but the dead !
With curses, shrieks, and cries,
Horses and wagons and men
Tumbled back through the shuddering glen.
And above us the fading skies.
There's one hope, still
Those batteries parked on the hill !
"Battery, wheel ! " ('mid the roar)
"Pass pieces; fix prolongs to fire
Retiring. Trot!" In the panic dire
A bugle rings " Trot" and no more.
The horses plunged,
The cannon lurched and lunged,
To join the hopeless rout.
But suddenly rode a form
Calmly in front of the human storm,
With a stern, commanding shout:
"Align those guns! "
(We knew it was Pleasonton's.)
The cannoneers bent to obey,
And worked with a will, at his word ;
And the black guns moved as if they had heard.
But ah, the dread delay !
"" To wait is crime ;
O God, for ten minutes' time! "
The general looked around:
There Keenan sat, like a stone,
With his three hundred horse alone
Less shaken than the ground.
" Major, your men ? "
-Charge, Major ! Do your best ;
Hold the enemy back, at all cost.
Till my guns are placed : else the army i3 lost.
"You die to save the rest I "
By the shrouded gleam of the western skies,
Brave Keenan looked on Pleasanton's eyes
For an instant clear and cool and still
Then, with a smile, he said : " I will."
"' Cavalry, charge ! " Not a man of them shrank,
Their sharp, full cheer, from rank on rank.
Rose joyously, with a willing breath
Rose like a greeting hail to death.
Then forward they sprang, and spurred and clashed ;
Shouted the officers, crimson-sashed ;
Rode well the men, each brave as his fellow ;
In their faded coats of the blue and yellow ;
And above in the air, with an instinct true,
Like a bird of war their pennon flew.
With a clank of scabbards and thunder of steeds
And blades that shine like sunlit reeds,
And strong brown faces bravely pale
For fear their proud attempts should fail,
Three hundred Pennylvanians close
On twice ten thousand foes.
Line after line the troopers came
To the edge of the wood that was ringed with flame ;
Rode in and sabred and shot and fell ;
Hot came one back his wounds to tell.
And full in the midst rose Keenan, tall
In the gloom like a martyr awaiting his fall,
While the circle-stroke of his sabre, swung
Round his head, like a halo there, luminous hung.
Line after line ; ay, whole platoons,
Struck dead in their saddles, of brave dragoons
By the maddened horses were onward borne
And into the vortex flung, trampled and torn;
As Keenan fought with his men, side by side.
So they rode, till there were no more to ride.
But over them, lying there, shattered and mute
What deep echo rolls? 'Tis a death-salute
From the cannon in place ; for, heroes, you braved
Your fate not in vain ; the army was saved !
Over them now year following year
Over their graves the pine-cones fall,
And the whip-poor-will chants his spectre-call ;
But they stir not again ; they raise no cheer;
They have ceased. But their glory shall never cease,
Nor their light be quenched in the light of peace.
The rush of their cliarge is resounding still
That saved the army at Cliancellorsville.
For The National Tribune.
CHASED BY GUERRILLAS.
A PERSONAL REMINISCENCE.
BY J. S. SLATER.
I have been chased by a mad bull across a
twenty-acre lot; by bumble-bees, yellow jackets,
and hornets ; by scores of my red brethren of the
plains arrayed in all their savage glory of red
blankets, feathers, and war paint, and have even
found myself on one occasion with empty rifle,
the side ache, blistered feet, and a grizzly closing
up on my rear altogether too rapidly for either
comfort of mind or bodily safety. My worst ex
perience in the chased art, however, was in 1864,
when some of Mosby's guerrillas gave me a pretty
stiff run across country down in Virginia.
I was not then in the army, having been dis
charged in 1863 on account of wounds received
at the second battle of Bull Run; but, wishing
to revisit the scene where I had laid down my
body and very nearly my life for Uncle Sam, I
availed myself of a leisure day to satisfy the
The First New York Dragoons was then lying
in the vicinity of Cloud's Mills, a short distance
from Alexandria, and one of the officers, with
whom I chanced to be acquainted, having prom
ised to furnish a couple of mounts, I started
from Washington with a friend and reached
camp early in the morning.
Upon our arrival several spare horses were
brought out and we were invited to take our
choice. My friend, who on account of his youth
had never been in the army, selected a mildly
mannered sort of beast, with no seeming ambi
tion save to pluck every tuft of grass and browse
upon every green twig within the range of vision.
Among the animals was one wild-eyed, long
legged, lantern-jawed, angular, piebald son of
Satan, as I afterwards found him to be, that had
been captured from Mosby's men in a skirmish
some months previous, and had not, owing to a sore
back, been ridden during the interval of enforced
captivity. My friend, the officer, advised me to
the selection of this horse, remarking that no
other animal in the command could hold a candle
to him in the matter of speed and bottom. As his
back was nearly healed, and he seemed otherwise
in good condition, I took him, but only upon
being assured of his gentleness.
We started about nine o'clock, accompanied
by a sergeant and two men as escort, and in due
time reached Fairfax Court House without inci
dent worthy of note. At that point we learned
that the pickets which had been stationed at
Centreville and beyond were withdrawn, having
been called in the night previous, and the officer
in charge of the post advised us against proceed
ing further, as Mosby's men were known to be
about. We held an amateur council of war, and
as a result of our deliberations continued upon
our journey. Being well provided with heavy
army revolvers we could muster forty-two shots
collectively without reloading we considered
ourselves able to cope with any stragglers chanc
ing in the way. Of course we scouted the idea
of any considerable force of the enemy being in
that region in such close proximity to our troops,
no demonstration having been made for some
considerable time that near. Reaching Centre
ville, we rode boldly through the main street
until we had nearly left the tumble-down hamlet
behind us, when, happening to cast my eye to
to the left, I saw stacked up in one corner of the
veranda of a house standing a little back from
the road some twenty or more fire-arms, a motley
collection of carbines, shot-guns, and muskets.
I quietly directed the attention of my comrades
to what I had discovered, and we were on the
point of beating a hasty retreat when a man
came out of the hotel, as it appeared to be, and
walked leisurely across the road just in front of
our horses. He was in his shirt-sleeves, had on
a gray slouch hat, which was rather the worse for
wear, and looked a fair specimen of the average
Virginia farmer. As he approached he saluted
us in a friendly way, and in answer to the ques
tion if there were any "Johnnies" about, replied
he hadn't " hearn of any, but thar mought be over
by the Gap," which, by the by, was far enough off
to give us no concern.
The sergeant asked him to whom the guns we
saw belonged, and he said they had been picked up
at odd times, and he reckoned " they didn't have
no regular owner.'' We were not altogether satis
fied, but, not liking to show the white feather in
the absence of danger, and fearing that if danger
existed any signs of suspicion on our part would
precipitate it, we concluded, as if by tacit con
sent, to proceed, which we did, after informing
the stranger, in response to a query on his part,
of our point of destination and the object we had
As we left the town a slight turn in the road
enabled us to get a good view to the rear of the
house we had just passed, and there to Our great
surprise we saw a full score of horses saddled,
bridled, and hitched to the fences, evidently
awaiting their riders.
Well, things began to look like business, and it
required but little exertion on our part to realize
that we were probably in for an adventure, and
that not of the most pleasant nature.
Before we had ridden far a sly glance to the
rear showed us several men standing in the road
apparently watching our movements. We there
fore continued steadily on our way, intending, so
soon as we were screened from observation, to
change our course and strike for the protection
of the old Flag without delay.
But the screening business did not operate ac
cording to our expectations not by any means.
We found that when we descended into a valley
a grey rider would canter up to the high ground
behind or upon one side where he could over
look us; and thus it Avas for at least two miles.
Then we lost sight of our uncomfortable shadows.
Without checking our horses we held another
council, and concluded that, having ridden thus
far, we would at least ride over the battle field,
and there map out some new course by which to
return. It was well on toward three o'clock
when we reached Sudley s Spring, and after
spending an hour in its vicinity and in riding up
to Groveton, we headed for home in the midst of
a heavy rain storm which had, meantime, set in.
It was our intention to return by the pike to
near the point where we had lost sight of our
guerrillas, as we had concluded them to be, and
then strike southward through a narrow valley,
well hidden from sight on the east, and passing
around Centreville, strike the main highway at
or a little beyond or to the eastward of Fairfax.
This route was suggested by one of the dragoons
who had passed over it on one or two occasions
while out scouting. We hoped, and in fact more
than half expected that the heavy storm would
drive those from whom we feared molestation
under cover. But it didn't.
We reached the turning-off point in safety, and
had traveled some little ways through the fields
k in fact were just beginning to congratulate
ourselves over our fortunate escape when a shot
upon our left drew all eyes in that direction,
where we beheld a horseman riding rapidly along
the ridge lying between us and the town, evi
dently intent upon intercepting our retreat.
Presently another and then and another rode
into view, until we counted a dozen stretched
out at intervals like a skirmish line.
There was but one chance for us to escape, and
that was to run for it. We saw at a glance that
we must pass Centreville ahead of our foes, or
"good bye, John!" One thing was slightly in
our favor. We had comparatively smooth sail
ing, while the guerrillas, owing to the nature of
the country, were obliged to travel over ground
very much broken and obstructed with fallen
timber and chapparel of pine. And as the course
we had chosen bore away from the hamlet, the
distance to the place wrhere, to use a nautical ex
pression, we were to tack eastward, was about
the same by both routes. The sergeant now took
command of our party and gave the command,
" ride like the devil, boys, or we're gobbled ! " And
ride we did. My horse worked a little stiffly at
first, but as the saddle girth loosened, and the
tree began pounding up and down upon his ten
der back, he limbered up amazingly. Before we
had gone two miles I was in the lead and doing
my level best with my one sound hand and arm
to hold in the brute for fear he might carry me
into Abraham's bosom or the outstretched arms
of the foe. We reached the higher and compara
tively open country without mishap, and, upon
looking about us, found that our pursuers had
Through the rain and dull grey light, made
duller by the approach of evening, we could see
them stretching along like hunters in a fox chase
to our left, while three or four were following on
in our rear, the nearest being perhaps half a mile
away. Crack ! crack ! went a couple of carbines,
and ping went the bullets, too close for comfort,
but not near enough to do harm.
With the first report my horse gave a snort
and a bound that threw the saddle well up on
his neck and came near dismounting me. But it
was no time then to tighten girths ; and if time
had served, it is doubtful if I could have ever
mounted again, the animal was so restive.
Away we went like the whirlwind. Over
ditches, the remains of fences, bushes, and briers
I never was much of a horseman, and even yet
it is a subject of wonderment to me how I ever
managed to keep on deck and steer the con
founded old craft. I should judge, from my feel
ings as I now remember them, that I had ridden
about a thousand miles, when I succeeded in
hauling up alongside of a fence, fringed on the
further side by a heavy but comparatively open
piece of timber, to wait for my comrades who,
a quarter of a mile behind me, were rapidly com
I was just resting my legs a bit when a shot
was fired, and simultaneously my charger caught
the sound of galloping feet as my friends
rode madly forward. Jehosaphat! Without the
slightest premonition of what was intended the
infernal beast, evidently used to such business,
leaped over the fence (four or five rails high) and
took to timber as naturally as a squirrel hunted
by dogs. Thump ! went my head against a low
hanging limb, knocking off my hat, raising a
bump as big as a hen's egg, and nearly tumbling
me from the saddle. Whack! went one leg
against the bole of a tree. Scratch, scratch, went
the twigs and branches across my physiognomy ;
rip, tear, went my clothing. Oh, dear ! Oh, Lord !
I shielded myself as well as I could by leaning
forward and clinging to the animal's neck, and
in that position brought into play a new engine
of devilment my revolver, the largest sized army,
which belabored my hip unceasingly. It flopped
up and down, up and down, until one particular
part of my person felt like a well-pounded beef
steak. In less than two minutes the revolver
seemed as if it was a crowbar, and in five minutes
felt like a bar of railroad iron fifty feet long and
weighing, as nearly as I was able to estimate it,
about a thousand pounds to the foot.
I was just upon the point of giving out entirely
when we cleared the wood. And wasn't I glad ?
Better yet, my friends almost immediately came
riding up through the open field, my course
having fortunately run parallel with it, the
Johnnies still in pursuit, but not perceptibly
gaining upon us. Darkness now began to set in
quite rapidly, but we dared not halt, for ever and
anon we could hear the galloping feet of the
horses of our pursuers and now and then the
angry voice of a carbine and ping of the bullet
as they thus called out to us through the gloom.
About nine o'clock we stumbled upon a farm
house standing back in the fields. Near it we
halted and listened for at least an hour, at the
end of which time we came to the happy conclu
sion that the guerrillas had given up the chase.
We therefore rode up to the dwelling the people
had not yet gone to bed and asked for lodging.
This we got, and also a fair supper of corn-dodger
and bacon, which we eagerly devoured, having
eaten nothing sine1-"' ly morning.
I did not sleep m that night. I was a per
fect volcano of aches, pains, and the Lord knows
what all, and as raw as the back of the animal I
had ridden, which had no skin on it at all for a
space as large as the palm of a man's hand.
My old wound I had been shot through the
neck, injuring the spine had gotten up a decided
inflammation from the hard and protracted exer
cise, and my back-bone seemed to clatter and
creak when I attempted to move, like a disjointed
and worn-out piece of machinery. My head felt
like an illy-used football balanced on the raw
end of something, which was myself.
Next morning we were up by daylight. They
brought forth my steed. He had an ugly look in
his eye, and I endeavored to get somebody else
to engineer him on the way home. They finally
persuaded me to keep him, and lifted me into my
seat, two of the boys having, meantime, to hold
the brute. I struck the saddle and the horse
struck for the road and freedom at the same
In passing through the gateway he scraped off
against one of the posts what little skin I had
previously saved on one side of my person.
I left several square feet (estimated) of my hide
literally " on the fence to dry."
We passed Fairfax in the course of an hour,
and late in the afternoon reached camp. There
were no cars to leave for some time, and my dra
goon friend kindly offered us horses to ride into
Horses ! I would as soon think of ridincr bare-
back a streak of lightning shod with thunder
bolts and red peppers. We declined with many
thanks and immediately started to walk to
Washington by way of Long Bridge. Over the
hills and far away we trudged, until at length
the lights of the city gleamed upon our weary
sight. About eight o'clock in the evening we
reached home, but not the end of our misery.
Our feet were raw with blisters, we were too
tired to stand, and well, as for the matter of sit
ting down, that was altogether out of the ques
tion. My friend was completely demoralized. I was
ditto several times over. A ram -shackle old
skeleton, well shaken up by an earthquake, would
about illustrate the condition of my anatomical
structure. And so far as the fleshy portions of
my corpus wire concerned the least said the
Before retiring I resolved upon the heroic sys
tem of treatment in order to shorten my suffer
ings, and sent out for a pint of whisky. It came.
I emptied it into a basin and sponged myself
from head to foot with the fiery liquid. Then I
was ready to die; or rather, felt as if I was al
ready dead and undergoing punishment in a cer
tain locality which Bob Ingersoll says has no
I soon got over the burning and smarting, how
ever, and next morning felt quite comfortable,
though exceedingly sore in spots, and with a de
cided antipathy to sitting down. It was a week
before I fully recovered, and I havn't forgotten
how the guerrillas chased me to this day.
ANOTHER WATERLOO HERO GONE.
It is saddening to hear from time to time that
another of the links which connected us with that
period in the history of Great Britain when she
battled successfully for supremacy on land and
sea, has been broken. Major Ronan, a veteran of
the Peninsular war and Waterloo, died recently
at the little village of Gilford, county of Simcoe,
having reached the ripe old age of 105 years.
Major Timothy Ronan served His Majesty King
George III, in the Forty-seventh infantry regi
ment, the same corps which lay in Toronto at the
time of the Fenian raid in 1866. Most of his
military life was passed in active service, for he
was engaged in most of the sanguinary battles
fought between the French and British in Spain,
during the years 1809 and 1811, and was privi
leged to take part in the closing engagement at
Waterloo. Although it was Major Ronan's good
fortune to die full of years, surrounded by the
comforts which his own exertions had won for
him, he did not escape unscathed from all the
battefields on which his courage and devotion to
country had been tried. He was shot in the
groin at the seige of Badajos, and carried the bul
let in his body up to the time of his death. Again
at Waterloo he was severely woundsd. During
the terrific charges which the French cavalry
made on the British squares at the former en
gagement he was singled out for personal combat
by an officer in the enemy's squadrons. The
Frenchman charged furiously upon him, and
with a single sweep of his sabre severed the bri
dle lines of Roman's horse, with the object of
having its rider at his merey. But while Mon
sieur was so engaged his intended victim ran a
sword through his body. But Ronan had, by
the cutting of the bridle lines, lost control of his
horse, and another Frenchman endeavored to take
advantage of his predicament by also charging
upon him. The British officer, however, adroitly
fell over his horse, and slipping under the ani
mal's body, managed to catch the second French
man in the nick of time, and by an upward sweep
of his sword nearly decapitated him. But feats
of strength and daring accomplished by Ronan
on the eventful day would fill pages. He was
severely wounded toward the close of the battle.
Shortly before Blucher's arrival was announced
a shell burst immediately over him, and a frag
ment fractured his skull. He was carried to the
rear, and in the hospital the wound was silver
trepanned. He wore the plate to the end of his
Ronan came to this country before the rebellion
of 1837-38, and took an active part in its suppres
sion. Toronto Canada) Mail.
A HORSE WITH A HISTORY.
A war horse which died on a farm near Keokuk
the other day had a history which will be of in
terest in these davs of soldiers' reunions. The
horse referred to was owned by the late General
Hugh T. Reid, of Keokuk. It was rode by him
at Shiloh. At that battle General Reid fell
wounded from the back of his steed. In fact,
horse and rider went down together, the horse
being struck in the chest, the ball lodging in the
posterior of the right shoulder joint, from which
place it was extracted by Surgeon Gibbon. He
was also wounded in several other places in the
same battle, twice in the upper portions of the
neck and many times slightly about the fetlocks
and ears. In this battle every mounted officer
of the regiment which the general then a colonel
commanded, was dismounted. Horse and rider
both recovered and participated in many other
engagements. When the war was ended General
Reid brought home with him the steed that had
so gallantly carried him, and after age had un
fitted him for further service had him taken to
his brother's farm. General Reid died a few years
ago from the result of his wounds. Dubuque
THE LANGUAGE OF PRECIOUS STONES.
There is a superstition which originates, it is
said, in Poland, with regard to the choice of gems
for wearing. It is that the month of the nativity
of every individual has a mysterious connection
with some one of the known precious stones.
Hence the propriety, in the selection of presents,
or for wear, of the adoption of those jewels belong
ing to the month which fate is imagined to have
made significant. To illustrate this, one born in
the month of January should wear garnet or ja
cinth, those stones being understood to belong in
their fated character to that month. Subjoined
is the list for the year: January Jacinth or
garnet; constancy and fidelity in every engage
ment. February Amethyst; peace of mind.
March Blood-stone ; courage and success in dan
gers. April Sapphire and diamond; repentance
and innocence. May Emerald; success in love.
June Agate; long life aHd health. July Cor
nelian and ruby; forgetfulness. August Sar
donyx; conjugal felicity. September Chryso
lite; preserves from folly. October Aqua-marine
or opal; misfortune and hope. November Topaz;
fidelity and friendship. December Turquoise or
malachite ; success and happiness in life. Accord
ing to the proverb, " He who possesses a turquoise
will always be sure of friends."
The son and three daughters of the Comte de
Grasse, French commander, lived for some time
in Charleston, and Demoiselles Amelie and Me
lanie de Grasse died from yellow fever and were
buried in that city. Their brother, Comte Alex
ander de Grasse, was at one time State engineer
for the two Carolinas and Georgia, a post to which
he was nominated by Washington.
THE WARRIOR'S HOME.
A sword, a sash, and a soldier'a coat
Are hung on the cottage wall
With a manly face in a golden frame,
And a banner enwreathing all ;
The banner is tattered and battle-worn,
But its union hath all the stars ;
And the captain's coat hath a bullet mark
Just under the shoulder-bars.
I read in the record, " He bore the flag
In the teeth of a fiery hell ;
And the sword was grasped in his cold right hand
In the morning where he fell."
Swift over the wires a reinless steed
A message of sorrow bore,
That tied with a never-dissolving knot
The erape on the cottage door.
John W. Slorrs.
The following interesting letter was recently
sent to General Sherman :
Washington, October 8, 1881.
General W. T. Sherman.
My Dear General : Now that the name of
Lafayette is being everywhere pronounced in
connection with the approaching celebration at
Yorktown, you request me to furnish you some
particulars in relation to his funeral, at which
you are aware I was present.
I was then a youth, residing in Paris. I had
been a guest at La Grange, where the General
and his family had received me with open arms,
as also afterwards at his hotel in Paris, both as
an American and as a descendant of a family in
Rhode Island to which, in the days of his youth,
he was warmly attached. I attended the funeral
as one of the delegation of Americans. He was
buried with the honors of a Lieutenant-General
of the Army and of a Commander-in-Chief of
the National Guard. The military escort con
sisted of troops of the line, numbering, it was
said, 100,000 men. Part of the infantry marched
on either flank of the procession, in readiness to
act in the event of an attempt being made by
the Societe des Droits de l'Homme to take pos
session of the body and inaugurate an insurrec
tion, as had been successfully done at the funeral
of General Lamarque in June, 1832.
The order of the procession was as follows :
First came a long cortege of carriages (preceded,
I presume by cavalry) ; then the body, with the
pall-bearers. Immediately behind the hearse
walked George Washington Lafayette, the
Comte de Lasteyrie, (Lafayette's son-in-law,)
and the young Lasteyrie, then a youth of nine
teen. Immediately behind these came the dele
gation of Americans; then came the Chamber
of Peers, and after them the Chamber of
Deputies, all in their official robes. Last came
several hundred officers of the National Guard
from ever3r part of France, all in uniform. The
procession was closed by troops of the line, in
cluding cavalry and several field batteries. The
Americans walked two and two, the American
Consul, Dunscombe Bradford, leading; I, with
another, bringing up the rear. On arriving at
the Church of the Assumption (Rue Saint
Honore) the procession halted, while the pall
bearers, the members of the family, and the
Americans filed in and paid the last honors to
the remains, which were deposited in front of
the grand altar. On approaching the Place Ven
dome there was a sudden halt. Five thousand
law and medical students were there with a Re
publican flag and crying : " Vive la Republique ! "
"A has Louis Philippe ! " and "A has les tyrans !"
The infantry escort instantly faced outwards at
a charge bayonet, and a single charge of cavalry,
in which a few were killed and wounded, sufficed
to disperse the mob. The same thing occurred
when we reached the Boulevard des Italiens, and
at two other points on the route, and with the
same result. At the first alarm in the Place
Yendome many of the Americans thought it
prudent to leave, supposing that the corpse
would be the central point of the attack, and
that they would thus find themselves in the
midst of a desperate conflict. At each subse
quent alarm large numbers more of the Ameri
cans retired, so that when we reached the long
defile leading to the Cemetery of Picpus but two
of us were left, the Consul and myself, who
walked side by side. A wide breach had been
made in the walls of the cemetery to admit the
field battery that was to fire the appropriate
salutes over the grave.
On arriving at the gate we found that no one
was to be admitted but the Lafayette family
and the pall-bearers; but as Bradford and my
self were in citizen's dress, and walking directly
behind the relatives of the deceased, we were
supposed to constitute a part of the family, and
passed in with them. The coffin was placed on
a slab in the centre of the paved area forming
the entrance into the cemetery, and, after a few
prayers said over it by a priest, was carried into
the cemetery and placed by the side of the
newly-opened grave, which was next to the grave
of the General's wife. George Washington La
fayette stood on one side of the grave, and the
General's old family steward on the other, and
I stood at the foot of the grave, between them.
The steward held in his hand the General's
silver epaulettes of Commander-in-Chief of the
National Guard, which were to be buried with
him. George Washington Lafayette asked him,
in a low voice, to hand them to him; but the
venerable old man, overwhelmed with grief, did
not hear him, aud I gently took them from his
hand and passed them to the General's son.
It was said, I know not with what truth,
that the coffin was buried in some American
soil which the General had brought over with
him from the United States in a cask for this
In the return of the procession nothing specially
interesting occurred. I remember, however, that
it was an intensely hot day in July, and that the
march of four miles to the cemetery was very
trying, inasmuch as no one in the procession
was allowed to cover his head, even for an in
stant. Since that funeral George Washington La
fayette and the Comte de Lasteyrie have died; as
also our Consul, Dunscombe Bradford. So that,
unless some of the pall-bearers still survive, the
present Comte de Lasteyrie and myself are the
only persons living of those who saw the last re
mains of our revered Lafayette deposited in the
grave. Very truly, yours,
Francis J. Lippitt.
Speaking of army gambling reminds me of an
anecdote told of a late well-known major-generaL
in his younger days. The inspecting general had
gone through his usual routine, lunched at the
mess, and appeared well pleased with everything;
but as he was going away with his aide-de-camp he
turned to the major-general, who was then com
manding officer of the regiment, and said, " By
the way, colonel, I forgot to mention that there
have been rumors of gambling and heavy play in
your corps. Is there any truth in them?" "Be
quite sure, sir, there is absolutely none. When
I joined the regiment a year ago I won every
available shilling of its ready money, and you
know me well enough to be sure I could not
sanction gambling on credit.