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Richmond dispatch. (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, December 21, 1902, Image 14

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85038614/1902-12-21/ed-1/seq-14/

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;JU6A '
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.

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