Newspaper Page Text
IHE FIRST lUBII, 50303 OF THE SERVICE SKKX BY THE REGIMENT. IN THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN. fM Advance on JVasfcvllle nad the Knsacrexnent There-General Hood. Xislt to the Grave of a Xotcil ami Devoted Confederate Cnaplain— \other Confederate Matter. ( 35. T. SlcMorrics -nritea to the Mont >oir.efe-y Advertiser: When about four miles .from Franklin our corps was de ployed to the right, formed in line, ad vanced towards Franklin, and soon struck the heavy skirmish line, of the enemy. ttticse were quickly driven through a targe cornfield and skirt of woods to /heir defences at Franklin. Hardly an hour before sunset Hood's jinny was drawn up In full view of the enemy entrenched behind two parallel line? of breastworks about 150 yards apart. The other line was an ordinary fiitch two or -two and a half feet deep; the inner line, a ditch three and a half 2cet deep and four feet wide, with thick and strong embankment along which v.-cro port-holes for muskets and embras ures for artillery. At one point of the Jhie. in front of an old gin house there -was a, strong redoubt about fifty feet long, whose ditch was five feet wide and four feet deep, and rampart four feet high, making eight feet from the bottom of tho ditch to the top of the parapet. The space between the two armies was about GOO yards, from which all under p-owth had been icmoved, leaving a park of a. few large trees. The surface In our front towards the enemy was ravine, gradual ascent through park to tho outer line; level old pasture to the inner line. The array itself, of about 3 S.OM ragged iii-i half-starved men. with tattered ban ners, having accomplished a long and arduous march of 500 miles across the mountains of Georgia and Tennessee, and facing double its numbers, recalls vividly ■the shattered army of Hannibal, when, after its terrible passage, of the Alps, It was drawn up in line of battle before the well-appointed lesions of Scipio on Hie bank of the Ticinus. While in this position, momentarily ex pecting the order to advance. General Forrest; mounted on his black charger, liat in hand, down by his side, his face radiant, and dark eyes flashing, rode Sown our front. The men. already eager for the fray, caught his enthusiasm, rhecred him to; the echo, and began ad vancing before, the order was. given. Across the ravine, on through the park, tifficers in front, and men still cheering him, moved the army In. unbroken pha lanx. "When about 100 yards from the [>uter;/*ine we received the ., first volley Irom the enemy. The command double sulck was given, cheers were changed jo rebel yells, officers still in front, we rharged "the outer line. The rattle of musketry now drowned all commands of tfllcers. and- here Captain Dick Williams, toting lieutenant-colonel of the regiment, ivalking back to iace the regiment, as of ficers frequently do on drill, would wave Ms sword right and left, and then thrust it forward towards the enemy. Indicating ihus by acts instead of words what he ;vould have us go. The outer line was juickly carried, irom which very few M: the enemy escaped to their inner line. Here, perhaps, there was a pause of a half a. minute until the outer line, could I<g Ewept of the enemy, and a realignment made. By this time, owing to the still ness and rarity of the atmos phere, tho smoke of musketry had fettled in such a der.se bank ewer the Held in front that friend could not be distinguished from foe at -a distance of 9 few steps. The enemy, four lines deep, behind strong intrenchments, were sweep ing the old field between us with mi'tmie trails, and a battery of siege guns to our right and beyond Big Harpeth river was Scaring up the ground and knocking trees Into fragments Ground it. CHAKGED INNER LINE. Through a dense smoke and tempest >f iron, our officers still leading, and the Jebel yell still ringing, the army in per fect order charged the inner line. Of Ihe nature of the works of, the enemy \ve could have no conception until within 3. few feet. Dead and wounded had fallen at every .step of our advance, and our ranks wer* badly thinned. When the number and position of tho enemy stood revealed, every old Confederate saw that It was to- be a light of one to two with an enemy strongly entrenched; but de- Hpising numbers or advantage of posi tion, leaped down into the ditch, climbed ■up the embankment enveloped in a sheet of lire, und from the ramparts discharged their pieces in the face of the enemy, «nd with butts of guns closed in a hand to-hand grapple with the foe. Here the intrepid Cleburne. leading his division at the head of his old brigade (Covans') fell across the breastworks, with the reputed •lying words: "J am killed, but my old Arkansas brigade is glory enough for one man," dying t words, worthy of his heroic life. Major Samuel I-. Kuox. the Vravc commander of the First Alabama, ■vas lying a few steps away, having been tnortally wounded at the head of his jogimer.t. But of the field thickly strewn hith dead and wounded, and of the al most total annihilation of officers, our pnen engaged In a lite and death struggle »ad neitluir knowledge nor thought. The Hjemy was brave and had every advant age, but men have never, been made so brave as to be wholly unmoved by such Audacity as the Confederates exhibited. Their line reeled and, staggered under jur heavy, blows, aj^d were saved from Slter route only . by the most strenuous jfTorie of tht-ir- officers. One hundred farde to our left their lines and batteries tvere captured. If at this crisis John l>on's division, held in reserve,, had come 'lo'our assistance, the: field would have b«en, Instantly won. A a it was, the un equal contest on the breastworks wos /naiatained : hardly , uiore: than a minute, l^hen' o\ir men took: the ditch, on -the op l?o«tt» tHA; aad' loujrht tho encmv; across the ramparts muzzlo to muzzle. The en emy soon began enftlndlng our lines, and after half an hour's fighting in this posi tion, a.nd hoping in vain for Johnson's reserve it- was plain that we must es cape by fighting back to our lines, or be captured or killed, Kspccially .destruct ive v.-as their crossfire in the outer ditch of the redoubt, where the embankment was too, high for tho men to climb. A ic.vr surrendered, but most took chances of escape, protected somewhat by tho smoke and darkness. ■ Tho position of the First Alabama was in front of the re doubt and to tho left. Hood had used only two pieces of artillery In the battle, but about S P. M.. an.l after the' Confederates had fallen back, he opened a heavy can nonade on the enemy's line and followed it with it with a charge of Johnson s division, but v.-as repulsed with great loss. Until midnight, and long after all the attacks from tne Confederates had ceased the enemy kept up an incessant fire to the front as if Confederates were charging. It was nearly day when the enemy s pickets fired their last gun. and na^tenj ed to join their army, then retreating up the Nashville 'pike, beyond Big 1-lai neth river. It seldom happens in anj battle that t-o ratio of killed to wound ed is so grt -t as was in this, and the reason is plain. It being -night, no flag of truce could be obtained for the re moval of the wounded. As the enem> swept ths field in front until a late hour at nicht every wounded soldier not able to carry himself from the field, nor reach ed by "a litter-bearer, was shot to death where ho fell. Many of the First Ala bama were mangled beyond recognition, and could be identified only by their k>th irig. Sam Chappell, of Company G, a youth of IS, was -an example, whoso body had been pierced by seventeen minme balls. Viewed next morning by day light th* space between the outer and inner": lines to the right of the 'pike was heartrending. General Hood Is said *o hat-e wept when he beheld it. The bodies of our dead (for. there were no wounded on the iield next morning) la;- thicker and thicker as you got from tr-e. outer to the Inner line, and in the .diU. les niev were literally banked up three or .our men deep. The immense ditch in front of the redoubt was nearly full of our dead There were also many lying along the top of the breastworks, and oven within tho enemy's lines, v* nile the loss of men was gieat, that of on> cers was much greater, owing to their reckless exposure. Among the killed were Major-General Clc-burne and Brigadier- Generals Gist. Adams. Strahl. and Gran berry Among the wounded were Ma jor-General Brown and Brigadier-Gene rals Custer. Monigault, Quarles, Cocke rell, and Scott. 1 shall not pause to refute the absurd sto'-y that Genral Hood next morning spoke disparagingly of the conduct of his army at the battle of Franklm. Gen eral Hood was incapable either of falsr- BATTLE OF NASHVILLE. After burying our dead we took a last farewell of our loved commander, Major S. L.. Knox. inarched about two miles up Big Harpeth river, and encamped for the night. Xext morning we crossed the river, swung around to our left, and struck the Nashville vjpike about four miles above Franklin. About 9 A. M., December 3d. we came in view of the enemy, entrenched on :t range of -hills extending across the Hills borough and Franklin 'pikes, and about three miles south of Nashville. 'I he po sition of the Confederates on the lcit of the Franklin 'pike occupied by our (Stew art's) corps was a valley bounded on the north, west, and south by a range or high hills, and on the east by the trank lin 'pike forming a rectangle about one and a half miles north and- south, and three-fourths of a mile east and west. Driving back the enemy's skirmishers we entrenched at . the foot of the hill, about -'00 yards below the position of the enemy, and facing north. At the western extremity of our line we constructed a redoubt, "which our regiment occupied a few days, and then turned over to- the defence' of barefooted men. moving back a ouarter of a mile into the valley. AYe all* knew from the activity of -railroads and steamers in Nashville that the enemy was receiving heavy reinforcements. Our men were daily occupied in strengthen ing our works," the weather was intense ly cold, snow several inches deep cover ed the frozen ground, and about one third our men without shoes, were going about with their feet wrapped with rags, while the rest were poorly shod. Details were sent out every morning in the country to impress leather, and all the old shoe-cobblers in the army were peg ging away. Even in this extremity the citizens showed 'us. no substantial sym pathy, but looked at us askance when we made known our mission, and told them we would pay fancy prices in Con federate money. "We got no leather ex cept what we found concealed, and which the owners let us have out of sheer re spect for our muskets. Every farm house we visited had its hogs, goats, sheep imprisoned under the house; while horses, mules, and cows were penned up in the chimney corner. In Tennessee, as in Maryland, ""Wo found the patriots very shy," and yet these people were truly loyal to the , South. As previously stated, most of these barefooted men were put in the redoubt on the extreme left. About *J P. M., December 15, IStM, the enemy fiercely attacked our extreme right, at the same time charged the cen ter, of which our regiment was a part. Though the enemy was much superior in position and number, every charge was promptly met and< repulsed in front of our regiment. Hood seemed to think_that the main attack would be made on the right, and drew off some of his men from center and left to support it. But the attack on the right proved a feint that deceived Hood. "When General Thomas saw this, he marched his heavy column, already massed opposite the redoubt, quickly drove out the barefooted men, and began descending the hill on the im mediate Hank and rear of our regiment. For fifteen minutes the situation look ed serious--, while the barefooted men were scattered and running in every di rection except 'towards the enemy, and running not only with the agility of well shod men, but of men with springs in their shoes. Two divisions of Cneat ham's Corps from the right were thrown across the enemy's advance, and heM him at bay until night. The behavior of these two divisions, lighting great odds in open field on level ground, and in full view of a large part of the army, won the high est admiration of all. During the night the army fell back about a mile, and lines were reformed. Hillsborough 'pike had been occupied \>y the enemy, leaving the Franitlin "pike cur only line of eonununioatinn. The posi tion of Stewart's Corps, during the sec ond day's battle, extended -half a mile west from the Fran'-clin "piko along a valley to the font of tha ranse ->f High hills on our left ns we lucvd north. This range of hills, rising abruptly to a height of 'JOO feet, :covAjr.Vd wYlh scrub timber and ledges of rock, continued its course south one- fourth of a mile when deflect- Ing exist nearly at right angles, extendu to the Franklin 'pike, this last range being in rear of and paiallel to out lines. The east part of this rectangle formed by the Franklin 'pike on the east, • our liny- on the north, and the range of high hills on the west and south, was a for est of largo timber without undergrowth; tho western part, an open old pasture. JJates's Division occupied tho side and top of the hill on pur left, supporting a battery of two small guns on top. The position of the ivgiment was in trenches behind v stono fence fronting a born fleld. and about, two hundred yards east of the foot of the hill. A few days: of warm sunshine had melted the snow and thawed the ground, so that this now old miry cornrrteld thickly covered; with larg-o cornstalks, was a formidable obstacle to approach in our front. ■■•■-.:.■'• , "A HEAVY CANNONADE.-- ' About;. 9 :A. M. the ".enemy opened a: heavy, cannonade along our whole front 1 Half an hour: later they. charged through THE RICHMOND DISPATCH- SUNDAY, DECEMBER 21i ;i902- and up ; against Batcs's battery on^our left.- Their progress trough .the ; «*"• field was slow; and?dlsorderly. -and cfor 2WL yards: they were -under .tho^ fire _of our. regiment, now arratd -with . EnHeld ■•rifles.-, and -::• their '-lead and ; wounded^sprinkled welt our. f .ont. < They came \ within twenty yards of" our lines, and. then^ fled, falling thicker nowc and "faster ;than be fore. About 2 P.; M.' another assault was made, but also repulsed.-. The^'maln tack had air day been, directed against the position held by. Bates s Division and Battery on top of the hill.' Our line at Batee's Lattery turned a. right, angles due south along; 'the top of this grange of hills, and the vnemy seemed to -re gard this as tho key to . the situation. There had been one continuous assault on it from the beginning or the battle, but was : bravely defended by ■■a,'. single line. Tho \>ncmy; in the meanwhile, had kept extending their line south ; from Bates's Division on top of the /hill, and by 12 o'clock had reached a point where the "range turns due east, to the Franklin pike, and in our rear. It was plain that thy; enemy's object was -to extend t this, flanking- column to the Franklin pike beforo night, and cut off our retreat. When not engaged, we were interested spectators of this hard bsttle on top ot the hill distinctly marked by two parallel lir/es of lire. About - 4 P. M.,, and when the flanking column of the ..enemy on the'-hlll was about one fourth ot a mile from the pike, Bates s. position and battery; after a- most heroic defence, were carried by tire enemy.,--:-Jhia-oc curred in full" view of the First Alabama. The enemy pouring through this opening in our Un-e began moving upon the ' flank and rear, of- our regiment. At the same time We were charged by a heavy force in front. ; We retreated down 9ur trenches to the right, loading and iinng upon the; charging' force in front. \\o hoped General. Hood would send v for<« to chock this flanking column on our -left. But, in fact, he had none to spare. Ine First Alabama went down the trencnes one fourth of a mile, firing as rapidly as possible until the enemy, in front was hardly fen steps away.. Here it was.clear that we must surrender or at great peril to our lives attempt to escape. A few chose the former; others, throwing down their guns, cutting off cartridge-boxes and belts, but keeping canfoens; haver sacks, and blankets, sprang up from the ditch and made a dash for -liberty through the park for the hill in the rear, ■100 yards distant, over which led their only way of escape. Still under fire, we climbed "its side so precipitous in some places' that we had to pull ourselves up by switches projecting from fissures of rock. Some were killed and wounded in this ascent of the hill. After crossing this hill, and two or three others in teracting it on the south,, we reached Franklir 'pike about dark, and just as a slow rain began -falling.. . • Nowhere else has such injustice, been done the Confederate soldier as at the battle of Nashville. The facts and con ditions considered, no battle-fleld of the South more fully illustrates his superior quality as" a soldier, contending, as he was, with an enemy so vastly superior in numbers, appointments, and physical condition. If we analyze his conduct during these two days, we shall find no thing to censure. The flight of the bart footed men made up of odds and ends o the army and under officers unknown to them, could not be considered any dis credit to the army. The conduct of Cheatlu n's two- divisions holding in check a much larger force on the first day's battle, was most heroic. Bates s defence of his position for seven hours against overwhelming odds, and never yielding until his little band were dead or wounded in the trenches, and dead and wcjnded Yankees were piled up m his front for fifty yards, is entitled to the highest- admiration. Bates did tne hardest lighting of -all that day. though he was at last overcome by sheer physi cal foro'e. Again, after our lines were broken the Confederates retreated m a walk down the trenches, at tho same time firing as rapidly as they could at the enemy charging our front. Surely there was no evidence of panic in that. The truth is at no time was there any thing like a panic among the men. When the alternatives of capture or escape had to be made, some chose the former. some the latter, but in either case the decision was made deliberately; and cer tainly it took some courage to attempt escape under such circumstances. Ihe popular impression is that a soldier never runs except when scared, but soldiers of experience know that it of Wn requires greater bravery to run than to charge a fort Again, we killed and wounded man'v times more Federals at Nashville than they did of Confederates. This was tiro last battle ot the Army of the Tennessee fought under General Hood as commander, and it is seen that one unbroken ' series of disasters fully justifies the apprehension of th* army when he took command. General Hood was one of the bravest of the brave, and we 'do not think his proven incompetency to command the army detracts one .lot from his distinguished service to his rountrv The same misrortune might have befallen any other subordinate gen eral of the army. A DEVOTED CHAPLAIN. Father Herbert aiid How lie Served' the Cause. James Dinkhis contributes the follow ing to the New Orleans Picayune: Knowing how deeply interested the Pic ayune has been in bringing to light the genius and. virtues of the Confederate soldiers, and believing that the survivors of that cause will be glad to learn some thing about the resting place of an old comrade whose devotion to them was sec ond only to his religious duties, I have prepared a brief sketch and also some pic tures, which may be of interest. On.. -my recent trip to Macon, Ga., I visited the tomb en Father Darius Hu bert, S. J., so long the beloved pastor of the Jesuits' 'church, New Orleans, La... and chaplain to the Confederate soldiers during the whole period of the civil war. His last resting place is singularly appro priate for one who was so devoted to the Southland, and to its brave and noble sons, who shed their blood on many a battlefield for the Lost Cause. Father Hubert is buried within the very trenches dug by the Confederate soldiers round Macon, Ga.. to check the onward march of General Sherman. A plain cross with the simple inscription, "Here Rests Father Darius Hubert, S. J., Born July 19th, 1523; Died June 14th, 1593," marks the place of his grave.: At the foot of the hill stands an oldychemical factory used by the Confederacy for the manufacture of medicines, powder and other war mate rial. . The Jesuit Fathers, conscious of the noble deeds, of their dead brother, are erecting a, superb mortuary chapel 'of pure w^hite marble, within whose shadow Father Hubert will peacefully rest. ALBERT BIEVER, S. J. New Orleans, December 10, 1902. • Fatner Hubert lives only "in memory, but if there be any sure lessons taught by noble example, then his devotion to the cause And the people he served, will stimulate succeeding generations. Father Hubert -was ordained a priest on October 14, ISSO. by Right Rev. Bishop Blanc, and when the tocsin of war sound ed, he gave his services to the Southern cause. He accompanied the Louisiana troops to the" field, 1 and remained with them during the entire period of the war. His 'ministrations to the sick and wounded for four years of bloody strife, and the tender solicitude he. felt for each one under his care; will be a cherished recollection of that dear man, as long as a Confederate soldier suvives. His work and devotion were , not confined to his own command; he was often found in the midst of other troops, encouraging them by his heroic example, and contributing whatever assistance he could give. The people of New Orleans have. chosen to express their obligation and love for him in various ways. -They knew him as a warm-hearted and tender man, and they know there was no sacrifice too great for him to make, when his people were in dis tress. ... .'. . ' - .^ '■ ■•- ' ■ .. " - • During the dreadful yellow fever epi T domic, which hung like a pall over every community in Mississippi,. in. IS7S, Father Hubert repaired to Yazoo City, where "he nursed thesick andjburied the dead. He never thought of danger when people were suffering, and whether ifi the midst of epidemics, or whether exposed .to a shower of shot and shell on the battle field, he was found administering to ; ihose who needed help^, and 'cheering -those^ who went forth to duty. . " , .. - It cannot be denied that he was apatriot from ever j- point" of view. His heart was in his work. At. the very outset . he . gave his energy and .talents;to the : cause"6f -the' South,, nnd during' those four long- years," no trials or deterred v him. ' -, : Associated with Father' Hubert -:ih : the service; .was . a young, preacher, . ; the : chap-, lain, also, v ;Of a Louisiana. : regiment^ They 4 'wera devoted- friends;:; indeed,' theV young: looked upon Father Hubert -more An the light ' of a father than friend. He counciled with '" him .about all raatterß 01 importance, and after. I pbtainlng:the.;Rev.i Father's approval of his idea, immediately put it to use. Father Hubert,. when speak iri ff to him, would saj?: - "My son, so and so." * After the -Gettysburg -campaign, marchi ng through 'the enemy's the young chaplain passed a farmhouse having several horses in the stable. lie was worn out by long.marches and scanty rations, and believing that he wasjustl fld, mounted -one of them. 1 After a-few hours' ride, he.c ame up with- Father .Hu bert, whom he found trudging along .the rocky road barefooted, in the ranks of his m After exchange of greetings, the young man said: "Father, I captured this horse, which will serve boih of us. and I beg you to take him until you are thoroughly rest ed." ' / „,, -.-'V Where did you get thts horse, my son? said' Father Hubert. "I led him from a stable." "Then," said Father Hubert, "take him, back forthwith to the owner. He does not belong to you." '• "But," answered the young man, the place is now In the enemy's lines, and I cannot take him back." -~ - "Then turn him loose," said the Father. "Look at me.- I have no shoes, but I would not leave my boys to ride a horse which belongs to another." ■On one occasion, when the army fell back, leaving a large number of sick and wounded in the Federal lines, Father Hu bert remained with them. Both armies passed far beyond, and only those who were unable to travel, and the usual force of stragglers, were there. In' the stillness of the night, the cries of a woman in distress tvere heard. Call ing on such of the attendants as were at hand, Father Hubert, guided by the sound, rushed thither, to find a near-by house in possession of four. Federal bummers, who, after .having rifled it of everything portable, were terrorizing the woman who lived there. Father Hubert was quickly upon the scene, and with the energy of Forrest, aided by his loyal/ nurses, stop ped them in their villainous work, and hurled them from the premises. Father Hubert was" a chaplain; had he been otherwise, he might have been a Forrest or a Jackson. Nothing is more difficult than to Indi cate in precise terms the picture of his life. His character and qualities were well known to his comrades, but we are pow erless to leave behind any adequate idea of his personality. Indeed, it would be impossible to imagine a more perfectly rounded character than Father Hubert, and to know him truly, it was necessary to have served with him. The remarkable success which attended his labors tells more plainly of him than we can write. Perhaps the best .light which can be turned on Father Hubert is to recall his unswerving devotion .to the Southern cause after the war. , During all those dangerous and trying ordeals of reconstruction, he never yield ed one iota of his opinions. He stood for principle and fought the battles of his people then, as he had done during the war. There was no compromise in him where his honor was involved. It seems very appropriate, therefore, that his- body should rest under the rifle pits %vhich his comrades dug at Macon, Ga., and alongside many of them. His life-sized portrait hangs on the wall of Memorial Hall, in this city, and each Sunday morning, when his old comrades gather there to exchange pleasant greet ings, and to recount the events of that heroic past, his face reminds them of many delightful recollections. Next to him on the wall, is a portrait of Stonewall Jackson, and immediately in their front is a likeness of General Lee. Is it a wonder, then, that his old comrades love to linger in such a presence? Father Biever makes no mistake in say ing that his old comrades revere his mem ory, because so long as two are left, they will tell of his virtues. In 1533 Father Hubert was stricken with paralysis, and at his request v.-as moved to Macon, Ga., hoping the change would restore his health, but from the scenes he loved, he passed to heavenly realms. When in the gray dawn of his life's last day, where years before he mingled with his comrades, and faced the dangers and hardships of battles, a picket came into his camp, and gave warning of the ap proaching o-riemy. •The battle was at hand, but he met it bravely. A few devoted friends and brothers gathered around his bedside, and breathlessly watched and listened for the last word which that dear oIJ man should utter. And there- he died, and there his body rests. In sacred 'soil. ' His life was replete with acts of Kind ness and devotion, and we love to dwell on his memory. Courageous, but tender, determined, but considerate, he always possessed the unbounded confluence and affection of his people. * Conspicuous for his loyalty to the South, ne was admired by those whom he op-, posed. In his ministerial field he was eveu at the post of duty. Many a faint heart and distressed body found comfort at his hands, and there are very few of the native families of New Orleans unac quainted with- the work of Father Hu bert. We believe that his soul has eternal repose. ' . f__ : The Battle of Fredericlisbuvg. (Fredericksburg Free Lance.) Saturday last was the anniversary day of the great battle of Fredericksburg. In the flight of time and in this era of peace and prosperity, when the war cloud no longer hovers threatening o'er the land, when the earth no longer resounds with the tread of martial hosts, men and women are apt to forget that things were once different— apt to forget that this fair Southland, which we love with that devotion peculiar to the descen dants of the cavalier— was once the scene of carnage and strife; apt to" for get that our own city of Fredericks burg was offered as a sacrifice to the Souths glorious cause, and yet forty years ago she braved a danger so terrible as to cause even the most coura geous hearts within her confines to shrink with terror from the result. Wrap p*ed as she was in the fearful em brace of Federal shell and canister, she bore it silently, uncomplainingly, be cause the South demanded the sacrifice She saw her people driven from th^ir homes." their property destroyed, their lives in many cases sacrificed, and yet the glory of "her fate more than repaid tire loss. Fredericksburg stands to-day a monument of southern valor, a shining example of southern patriotism. On the border of the northern country she en countered such evils during the years of the civil war as would have dwarfed tire sacrifices made by the Russian towns when •■ the Emperor Napoleon with his legions undertook to conquer that coun .try. She bore the brunt of the battle shock,', but she has survived and to-day her people with one accord aro resolved that she shall become as grand in peace as she was brave in war; that the recol lections of that struggle and of the courage of her people. then shall be to her people now an incentive, to place her at the front of the industrial army of this century. A remnant ,of the men who placed "the Souths fame on an im mortal tablet of glory live yet to tell of the part; Fredericksburg played in the great war of the States, but each,suc ceeding roll-calr on this anniversary will find the list of absent ones increased Death is mowing them down, but Time, at whose behest men are forgotten, can not efface the memory nor mar the gran deur of the men who battled at Frede ricksburg. The glory of their deeds will live forever -and forever. :. . We Cure Cancers, and without the use of the knife, as wall as Tumors and all Chronic Sores! AH examinations. free. We will board you here while making the cure. Come /and sao what marvellous cures .we > have made, and are . daily making. If we fail to cure YOU, we will pay your "expenses ! ! Write us about yoat ■ trouiile.and we will toll you what to 'doV-J. ' . '\/ , * " Kellam Cancel Hospital^ ■Twelfth and, Bank streets, f;S .V---- "•;■:■' •■ RICHMOND,- VA: -. The Ghost Cedar (Jrove. (By J. HARBISON ALLEN.) : At last wife and I were comfortably settled in our country home. I breathed ! a deep sigh of relief as the last piece of i furniture was put In place. rMy physician | had recommended a country, home for me. Business- -worries and cares had: broken down my physical and nervous system, and ho thought country air and life would prove more beneficial to me than drugs. We had been looking for a suburban house for some time, and a.t last •■ found what suited us at Cedar Groye.L which ■was the name given the place by it 3 pa3t owners. There were two things- that caused U3 to decide on this, property first, it was just the place to please us both; second, the sum asked for it was less than half its actual value. We wero just commencing to' enjoy our new home when something happened that threw a cloud over cur contentment, or rather, my contentment, \ for my wife knew nothins of ,a secret that -I had learned. I was riding to the post-office one bright morning, -.'when I met the man who owned the adjacent property. "■ ■.•; \ ■ "Good morning." I cried, cheerfully, de-; siring to make friends v.-ith .the -person who would be my. nearest neighbor, for some time. I noticed a peculiar look on the farmer's honest; face : as ! ' I ;: drew natr. "Good morning,", he responded. "Ain't you the man what bought Cedar Grove?'! "Yes, sir." ' "How do ye like it?" "Very well, thank you. I think we shall enjoy our life here." "Maybe,'- was: the reply, in a tone that implied great doubt. "Don't-you think it a fine place?" "Yes; a fine place, but ain't ye' afeerd of the ghost?" ' ; / . "The ghost?" , : "Yes, sir, the ghost! Didn't ye know the place was haunted when ye took It?'' "Haunted? No! Never heard of such a thing. I got It so cheap I didn't *ask any questions. I am not afraid of " spir itual visitors, anyway," I laughingly re plied. "I wasn't neither, till some time ago." "Tell me just what you mean." "Do ye remember reading three years ago of the murder of Judge Cook?*' "Yes, now that you recall it, I do." "Well, it was in the ""library of that house that the crime was committed." I gave a. cry of surprise. "That red stain on the library carpet then is" "Yes, sir, that is from the crime. The heirs sold the property, with furniture in it, and were glad to get it off their hands."- A new light had dawned on my mmci. I had wondered why such a fine old estate should be sold at so moderate a figure. Now I knew th/; cause. Yet, as I believed not in ghosts, the fact did not cause me any anxiety. In fact, I smiled that the superstition of the owners should have caused them to sell so cheaply, and make such a sacrifice. The farmer perceived my look of in credulity. "Ye may smile, if ye want to, but I tell ye it's true. Three families have moved into that house and have moved out again, too— and mighty quick, at that. Two of them stayed but one night. One colored family moved in one morning. They moved out again the same evening and walked two miles to the station in the snow." "Well," I replied, "I am not supersti tious, but I don't care for this to reach my wife's ears, or those of my servants, lacy might be Intimidated, but not I." We remained in conversation" for some time, but the talk drifted to other sub jects. In the pleasures of the day I soon forgot the story told me by my congenial, but nervous neighbor. That same night I had much letter writing to attend to. As I purposed shut ting myself away from business cares for several months, and leaving ail financial matters to the care of my partners, I thought I would Write letters to them and to several personal friends. It was 10 o'clock when I bade my wife good night and entered "the "library for my task. I had no one with me for<com pany, so I took along a box of cigars and a decanter of "old rye whiskey."- I had been drinking quite freely just about this time— my doctor said more than was good for me in my nervous condition; but this night I thought I would be guided by my own inclinations. I was soon lost in my writing, stopping only, at intervals to light a fresh cigar and to take a drink of the liquor. I heard the clock strike 11, but was not near the end of my task. Just as it struck 12 I heard a footstep in the hall. "Oh," thought I. "there is Nellie. ■ She has come to see why I sit up so late." I had just finished the last line of the last let ter, so I sprang to the door to meet her. ' ' The corridor was shrouded In darkness. "Nell!" I called. "Is that you?" There was no answer. '•Nellie!" this time louder. Then from the darkest corner of the hallway came a chuckle, low fiendish, even devilish. I drew from my pocket the five-shooter I had bought a few days previous. "Who is that?" I demanded, lingering the weapon. Again that chuckle, followed by a grating- voice, whispering, almost at my elbow, "This is Judge Cook." * ■ '.■'" The pistol fell from my hand. I re gained possession of it and sprang intc the/library. I paused but a second, then slammed the door and fumbled- for the key. A thrill of horror chilled my. being as I found the key had been removed from the lock. As quick as thought, I swung the heavy roll-top desk against the door, thus barricading that- means of entrance. Then I sprang to the door that entered from the; back hall. The key was in the lock and I turned it. : I stood for some time in the center of the room wondering -what to do". First I thought I would make a dash for my room, lock myself in with my. wifei and share the night's vigil with her. .This I discarded as a hopeless scheme, for the spirit of the murdered judge would over take me long ere I reached our room, and then I would be at his mercy. Next I thought of calling aloud to my wife tQ get the coachman. This idea I put aside as cowardly, for if she were to leave her room to ascertain the cause of my shouts, she would be in danger. I was still planning a means of escape from the librai-y when a light tap sounded at the door. I remained silent. Again the rap— this time louder, and thrice re peated. A happy thought came. to -me: As I was powerless in the hands of a supernatural enemy, I must gain his friendship. "Who is there?" I called. : No answer, but again three knocks. "Judge Cooke," I cried, approaching the door, "I did not intend . to intrude on your domains when I came here. If you will permit me to go to my room, I prom ise to leave here the first thing in the morning." : Vila,- ha," came a low laugh from the other side of tno door. "You are kind, but you have come to -my home,,and\must suffer the consequences.". I turned away with a. groan of. despair. At that moment my eyes rested on the bipod stain pn the -carpet. It .sent a chillof terror through me^thatniute, but potent., souvenir of the tragedy. A heavy, rug was lying. ■ near. This I dragged ■to tha \spot, and with it covered the dark stain. I took another drink from the de canter to steady my nerves. ,; ' ".- As I turned again; a feeling of faintiness stole over me, : ana my ;<; < las,t scintilla of strength fled. The rug had been dragged from the place I bad put it by sohie;unr seen-- and mysterious, agency, land . the gruesome stain was fl again . revealed, .it Imagination, or; was there a; glitter i itj ;that j dull, j red mark? : I .'stooped, i putvjny; fingeriupon it,' and lo! it , wasL^varrhfaiid; light; RIPANS. ' I have been using Eipans Tabules six or seven years, am never without them, and I can eat anything now and never have the least fear. My little daughter, when she has a pain, will say, "Mamma, me has a pain, please give me a Tabule," At Druggists. The Five-cent packet is enough for a ii ordi nary occasion. The family bottle, 60 cts. contains a supply for a year. never depict my consternation as I saw this. The stain Increased' in size and brightness. There lay at my feet a pool of- warm, red blood. For some time there had been silence. but now the knocking- was resumed, first at one door and then at the other. I sank into a chair, completely exhausted. Great beads of perspiration gathered on ray brow. As 1 looked at my visage in a small hand-mirror, I found .It pallid and the eyes wild with terror. What should I do? The doors seemed an effective bar rier to the ghcsL Yet as I .realized Its superhuman power, it seemed unusual. Even though the spirit could not get at me, could I endure the strain of a night locked in ithat room, with the sparkling pool of red staring me in the face and the uncanny enemy seeking admission at the doers. Oh. that my wife and servants were with me. With them as company we could endure the night's dreary vigil. And long ero this I had resolved that we should move away from Cedar Grove at the break of day. We should not spend another night on the haunted premises. I bitterly cursed my folly for not having looked into the cause' of the owner's anx iety to sell. There was hanging on the wall a pic ture of the murdered judge. We bought the house furnished. Some things we re moved, others of more value we retained. Tho painting of the judge was among the latter. At first we intended to remove it, but as we knew nothing of the tragedy, and tho face seemed such a noble look ing one, we decided to let it remain hang ing in the library. I turned in my chair to look at it. A great lump rose in my throat and I felt that I must scream aloud; the picture was swinging gently to and fro on the wall, as the pendulum of a great clock. A look of pain and suffering was on the face, and the hair and beard were stained and matted with blood. I sprang from my chair and. paced wild ly, up and down the floor. Then a scheme Hashed ' through my fevered mind— a scheme to get away from the "room and upstairs without the grim intruders knowledge. I would stand near the front door,- fire my pistol three or four times into 1 the floor. This would engage his at tention there; then I could throw open the rear door, lock it after me, and steal upstairs to our room. This would leave my 'enemy watching at the library all night, while wife and I were locked safe ly in the room above. "To think was to act. X drew my re volver from my pocket. I stood near the door and called aloud to let the ghost know I was there, then fired four bul lets into the floor. Without losing a sec ond, I sprang to the other door, turned the key -and threw open, the door. "Great God," I shrieked, my eyes bulg ing 'from their sockets. Imagine my ter ror, dear reader, as I found myself con fronted by none other than Judge Cooke. His image so impressed itself on my mem ory that I shall never forget it. He was attired in flock trousers with' a dark smok ing jacket. His long white beard and hair were red and matted with blood; a look of pain and anger was on his face. ■I- retreated to tho^ center of the room, but he followed me* stretching forth his thin arms toward me and chattering something which in my. frightl could hot understand, ily terror gave me strength. I clutched at and got a firm grip on his throat. His icy .fingers in turn got a firm hold on my neck.' A severe, but short struggle ensued. I felt my breath -leave me and my senses reel as his. hold tight ened. I staggered and fell unconscious in his arms, and was lifted and carried I knew hot where by the ghost of Cedar Grove. I. opened my eyes to find myself in my own bed' with the sunshine beaming In the windows. My darling wife was sitting by my side. The scenes of the night flash ed through my fevered brain. "Where is he, Nellie?" ."Who?" ""'■'r*,' ■ "The ghost." . "The ghost. There is no ghost." '■■But; I say there is and we -must leave here at once." "Bob; dear, do be quiet. There Is noth -ingito fear; you. drank to excess and the doctor who has just left says that in your nervous "condition it ; caused a. severe case of delerlum tremens." 4 !Then* there Is no ghost?" '.■>■ " /"No." : ; .. .-:/■,.. . • ; - .-- ■ y "How came I here?" ,■ j "Last night, about. 12:30, I heard you making a great noise. I went down and called to you. You>6h6uted: ' Go away. Judge. Cooke..' I tried 'to enter and found the ; door locked. I went for. the coacn' man," but it was sometime before I could get him. I went to one door, and he to the -other. Just then Itheard the. report of ; the « Pistol. \ and <. thinking:" you : had 'shot .yourself," fainted. The coachman '^ says that just as he got to the door, you", threw ;itl;bpeh. , You ;him. and/to/save himself^ he you \ and b'rbught ■ you; here. ; 4V«*e ; sent •? for the doctor: he says ;you ; must > remain -tin '; : bed} for ; some i Ume?and^drlnk r no;vm6re. p ' : -'. ; ; ■ iS,VA*deep r sigh'of relief ■escaped me.;" Then th«riwa« no Khostr^ I asked; f-arid-w* For Presents-! Gold Eyeglasses, ' Gold Spectacles, Opera Glasses, I Field Glasses. I Presents will be exchanged at j any time free of charge to suit the eyes of the wearer. ] Cameras, Kodaks, Photo Supplies, j Free instruction and free use I of dark room. . Mail orders receive prompt at tention. The S. Galeski Optical Company, j 901 E. Main Si, j Piano Bargain! A Fine Weber Piano in j perfect order, cost in j New York at the factory I $650. Bought by one of | our best families, and now j must be sold. Fully gua--| ranteed. Price | Manly B. Ramos j COMPANY, 119 East Broad Street;] New 'Phone 1580. ! need not leave Cedar Grove?". , -She replied* that the spook was n cr«k ture of my imasinatlon. ■•That was^seyen years ago and I am « temperance man— a man who owes hU reformation to a ghost of his Imagiasu tion. : Richmond-. Transfer ; Company.. haTt moved .", their iUnion* Ticket. Pullman- an* Baggagfe.Transferi Office to No. Sl9.Easl MHlnstreet;':between" Eighth and Ninth, with -£ increased i facilities a for ;.; haadllni business.. r. Both **phones- ; -16^ ..">.-. '• ; S. H. BOWMAN, » General Mana««r.