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GUIDON LITTLE BUTTONS OF BATTERY D,
“TALES OF TEX TRA VETERS’* SEF.IES.
By EDGAR L. WAKEMAN.
* Copyright nt.
“A little over thirty years ago,” mus-
Inely began the Student Traveler, as our
Ten Travelers wereall comfortably seated
in their accustomed places, "several de
tached divisions, brigades and even single
regiments of infantry, a few battalions of
cavalry and a number of Acid artillery
Commands, which had been hastily massed
at Cz-tro, 111 . were urged speedily forward
by way of the Cumberland river and
thence by rapid manf hes over the moun
tains of Northeastern Alabama into Geor
gia, to reinforce Sherman, who was stub
bornly fighting his way to the doomed
city of Atlanta.
‘•We joined him at Etowah river, and
participated in the hard-fought flank
movements which resulted in the defeat
of the outnumbered confederate forces
under the gallant Gen, Hood, and which
made possible Sherman's subsequent fa
mous march to the sea.”
As there was yet already a streak of
silver in the Student Traveler’s hair and
beard, his easy familiarity with the stir
ring events of so remote a period caused
various expressions of surprise to Hit
across the faces of the assembled com
pany.
The Aimless Traveler, who had seen
hard service in the Franco-Prussian war,
seemed nettled at this apparent irrever
ent liberty with military history.
“The Yanks and the Johnny Kebs,” he
observed, with a noticeable inflexion of
Batire in his tone, ‘‘must have taken on
their heroes at a remarkably youthful
age?”
"Oh, yes,” pleasantly retorted the Stu
dent Traveler, "quite young enough to
fight!”
Whereupon, without further interrup
tion, he related the following incidents of
the American Civil War.
Late one sultry July afternoon, as our
forces were about going into camp for the
night after a severe day’s march over the
hills of Northwestern Georgia ; our own
company, Battery D, First Illinois Light
Artillery, on account of some temporary
obstruction to the forces in advance, had
halted abreast of an imposing country
mansion, where, to avoid only a slight
detour, the marching columns had cut a
ruinous roadway straight across the plan
ter owner’s beautiful gardens and lawn.
The sappers and miners had demolished
walls and fences. Fountains had been
overturned and broken. Statuary lay
prone beside pedestals or, in shattered
pieces, had been crushed into the earth
by the heavy wheels of transport wagons
and the artillery. Grotos and vine-laden
summer houses were leveled as by a tem
pest ;and costly shrubbery, which another
quarter century’s loving care could not
replace, had been destroyed like wayside
•weeds beneath the trampling of frenzied
herds.
The general in command had merci
fully placed guards about the fine old
mansion, aud we could see upon its colon
naded portico a’ few members of the
household huddled together as if fascin
ated oy the ‘portentous scene, while gaz
ing in stupefied hopelessness over the
destruction which in an hour’s time had
been so sadly wrought.
Most of our officers, postillions and gun
ners had dismounted and flung them
selves from an almost stupid exhaustion
upon the sward; and our jaded horses,
freed for a few minutes from rein and
spur, lowered their heads listlessly or
reached hungrily for the few smirched
blades of grass which still lay half buried
between the deeply sunken ruts.
I was the guidon or color sergeant of
the battery ; at this time a lad of scarcely
15years of age. While valorous enough
in the foolhardy way of youth to have
won in a year’s relentless service the lik
ing of my officers and the friendship of
my comrades, there was still a straiu in
me, unaccountable to many about me,
which revolted at the inhumanly needless
destruction of war; whiah made me al
most traitorous in heart to the power
behind our own flag, when it> waved
above ind gnity to the innocent or cruelty
to the feeble and helpless; and which
fired m.v heart with intolerable hatred
for my own cause whenever 1 was com
pelled to look upon the wicked and wan
ton desecration of homes.
1 shall never forget how the picture of
this half ruined homoside—tho utter des
truction on every hand, the guarded
shell of a home, its few remaining occu
pants, the old and tho young, looking
upon the invaders out of the very desola
tion of fear, while a few faithful blacks
crouched beside them—chilled and sick
ened me.
I turned from it and leaned against m.v
borse, mutely patting his neck, as though
he must know this feeling, if the patriotic
human souls around me could not, and
with my face against his dusty shoulder
almost sobbed:
“Ah, Charlie, old friend!—"Charlie
■was the name of the horse who had car
ried me and our colors into many a direful
place of carnage aud death; for “Battery
D” had gained a name for savago work
afield—“how long must this pitiful busi
ness last!”
I remember, too, that I thought old
Charlie, tenderly interpreting my boyish
mood of despondency, had turned his hon
est face to rumple my ragged artillery
jacket with his l lips and teeth, and say as
plainly as faithful horse could:
"Don,t give way so. Little Buttons;
don't!—’ this being my nickname, friend
ily bestowed by the battery boys, who
were really fond of me, on account of my
diminutive sue. "It’s a dreadful shak
ing up. to be sure; but as I am consider
ably older than yourself and have seen
longer service, 1 hope you won’t mind my
mentioning that I have thought it all out
more dispassionately.”
“Oh, no, old Charlie!”
“One good tiling'll come of it, anyhow;
the north aud south'll get a permanent
introduction to oue another that’ll lead to
lasting brotherhood and respect; believe
mo, Little Buttons!”
"Oh, but old Charlie, the horror of it
while it lasts! 1 don’t mind lighting;
sure! You know that. The needless
suffering, the heartless cruelties and the
wanton indignities and destruction, are
what break my heart, old Charlie, and
sometimes make me long to sink into the
silent earth!’’
We often had talks line these, old
Charlie and I, boyish and foolish us they
may now seem to some of you gri/.zled
travelers about me; and they’ were the
greatest of living comforts to me. when so
many of my comrades rather gloried in
the ruin on every hand.
On this occasion 1 thought old Charlie
rubbed my shoulder a second time com
fortingly and seemed to say in that brave,
cheery way he had.
"Little Buttons, brace up! When you
and 1 are old vets, all this rumpus will be
so sunnily lorgotten that we couldn t get
a pension if we needed one. Besides, ro
meinber we carry the eolors, m.v tioy 1”
This last seeming reminder from old
Charlie brought me to something like "at
tention!” when 1 saw Pi m.v surprise that
it had not been old Charlie's touch upon
mv shoulder at all.
1 was looking into the deep hazel eyes
of the owner of the mansion, whom I had
seen in the group upon tlie portico and
who now stood bifora me with a white
face regarding m.v own features with a
more intent and inquiring look than 1
had ever know n rest upou them before.
It seemed to me for a moment that I
saw my own father’s face in his. When
he sj*>ke, my father’s tones were in his
i words. When he laid his hand upon m.v
shoulder again, it was as my own father's
, loving touch.
“It can’t be possible!” he half whis
i pered. “He would have no hoy as young
as this He would not permit them to
| lead this manner of life, if he had.”
And then as if recurring to some hope
j or purpose in his own mind, he looked at,
| me appealingly and said
"My lad, you have a heart, if you are a
I soldier?”
i "Oh, I hope so, sir.” 1 bashfully replied,
startled by the strange family resem
j blance and the planter's almost desperate
| manner.
“I—l felt, when I saw your face,” he
i continued hesitantly, "because it re
| minded me of one long separated from me
j by the wall of political hatred, of a
brother I once loved devotedly, that I
might ask you to do a distracted mother
j ana father a very great kindness, indeed
j the greatest kindness that human hand
and heart might do.’’
I was almost overcome bv the intensity
of his feeling and the homesickness every
tone he uttered evoked, and 1 stammered
forth some manner of confused assent,
while old Charlie turned his head and
seemed to nod approvingly.
“We have a daughter in Atlanta—just
about your age, my lad. Here is her pic
ture.”
With an alert glance toward my tired
companions, as if to guard so sacred a
subject from intrusion, he placed a little
ambrotype in my hands.
I saw the sweet face of a lass of per
haps sixteen years—almost the image of
m.v own sister; a face with a radiant, up
j looking smile, half hidden by a wealth of
golden brown curls; a face that looked
with tender eyes above a far life’s hori
zon where rested only cloudless, happy
skies.
We heard the dull chucking and thud
ding of the heavy wheels beyond, the rat
tle of harness and fittings, the sluggish
tramp of weary feet, and saw the laggard
wave of restlessness and rustling creep
down the line which told us the columns
were moving on beyond, and that we had
but a moment more together.
“Here,” he said quickly, as he tremb
lingly pushed the packet into my pocket,
"her name and address and a little note
to her are all there. We cannot hear from
her. Your army is between us She is
at a sort of music school, with an Italian
master- not in good hands, we fear. At
lanta will fall. Mv God, boy! what will
become of our darling Beatrice, in those
hours of defeat, of victory, of pillage,
rapine and license!”
Capt. Cooper and the officers were
already in their saddles. The postillions
and gunners were sulkily creeping to
their places. I saw the bugle raised to
Bugler Andy’s lips. Old Charlie was
already restless, and the clarion notes of
the order to mount half drowned the
planter’s almost despairing words.
He clutohed at my foot as 1 reached my
saddle. I could barely hear him agoniz
edly plead:
"In heaven's name, search her out.
Tell her of this meeting. Give her the
letter. Be to her as though she wore
your kin!”
The infantry beyond had been sent on
at double-quick to regain our lost time.
Capt. Cooper’s piping voice gave an im
patient order to Bugler Andy.
“Foward!—double-quick!” shrilly fol
lowed in blaring bugle notes.
My place was at the head of the column.
The officer of the day’ had turned in his
saddle and was scowling at me. 1 had
only time to bend to the pitious white
face and shout:
“Whatever I can—so help me God!”
He clutched me the tighter, as if in
mute and desperate appeal. I touched
old Charlie softly with the spur of my
disentangled foot, and we tore ourselves
from the man—it was as though I had
struck my own father a blbw—and in an
instant more Battery D. with its six
gleaming howitzers, was thundering over
the ruined lawn and on and on at a gallop
over the stony road to its place, in park,
in camp.
Every one knows the story of the At
lanta campaign; of the fiery conflicts at
Carters ville, at Allaioona, at Ac worth
and at Big Shanty: of the investment, in
blazing, iburning July days, of lordly
Kennesavv mountain, where the attacks
and repulses, the feints and sallies and
the tremendous and savage maneuvers
were like the “jaws of hell” to those from
time to time engaged, and like ma.estio
and terrible panoramas to those onlook
ers of both the blue and the gray,
held in readiness for instant battle: of
the great flank movement which gave tiie
federal forces the Kennesavv, and Mari
etta for a hospital camp and a secondary
base of supplies ; of the weeks of thunder
and flame by night, in the terrible artil
lery duels across the Chattahoochee; of
the vast federal demonstration to the
south, and the lightning-like flanking
stroke away around to the northeast,
where Peachtree’s banks opened to 10,0Uti
i soldier graves and the brave MacPhcrson
fell; of the final investment of the beau
tiful city, the deadly assaults and re
pulses aud their endless carnage; and
then that awful whirl and whirlwind of
half an hundred thousand desperate men
around to the south and southeast—a
solid advancing resistless front of half a
score of miles in length, of raining lead,
of blood-red bayonet, of belching
cannon and of the all-consuming
torch—to the horrible slaughter 1
of Kough-and-Ready and Jouesbor
ough; until, Just thirty years from
our next first September day, a shout
went up that shook the earth and split
the sky: "Atlanta is ours!” while the
brave but defeated confederates with
drew to Lovejoy’s; and the face of the
earth, almost from Chattanooga to At
lanta, seared as with flame, blacked as bv
deadly frosts, was a putrid desolate des
ert, silent as its buried aud unburied
dead!
On dress parade and in drill service,
even in occasional gallant brushes with
an enemy, the Held artillery guidon and
his tilt flag are well enough and pretty
euougli as military trappings; but where
there are ceaseless battle and carnage,
the need is desperate for every human at
the guns.
As 1 pleaded for a placo like ttiis, Capt.
Cooper smiled grimly, took old Charlie
for an extra saddle horse aud promotly
turned me over to our most doughty
fighter, Sergt. Dennis McGee, of the cen
ter section guns.
“Faith, I’ll put you where the inim.v
niver’U clap eye on ye fur th’ smoke!”
said Dennis with a wicked twinkle in his
little green eyes.
And so he did.
“It’ll be ‘Number 5,’ ye'U he;” he
added sternly; ”t’ thumb th’ vint, and
’lire the gum An', mind me words, me
i lad ;if ye lver let air in 'er (the cannon)
and cause a pretnachure dischure, or fire
| away on yer lanyard, afore 1 guv th'
word. I'll just simply impty th’ "six bar
j rets o’ me revolver iuto th’ small o’ yer
1 poreen back!"
With similar engaging rallyings irom
Dennis, I took my place at the gleaming
twenty-four-pouuder aud kept it to tho
end.
1 do not know what the poet-sung
bravery of battle heroes is. I remember
it all as a terrible dream where I knew
that death was ahead and where 1 felt as
sure that dcatli was behind. 1 simply
struggled with all the little might iu me, ■
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1894.
almost senselessly and altogether mechan
icaliy to accomplish mv atom-like toil in
the measureless tragedies of the hour.
In such dolorous times there is no
chance for respite: no place for humaniz
ing companionship: no moments for more
than the dumb and ceaseless effort to do
and live and kill.
Yet if it were possible to intensify the
terrible strain upon mental and physical
being into keener activity, J know that
thi added impetus ever came to me, not
from the shouts of victory above the
groans of the dying, but from those hum
bler and to my boyish nature subtler
promptings to valorous savagery, in the
approving words, glances or smiles of the
officers and men about me
"Look at the fire in Little Buttons’
eye!” Corporal Burr would laughingly
I halloa to the men of the right or left sec
tion guns, as we were warming up to
| some ratiiing engagement.
"We took thirty-seven positions at
Peachtree.” Corporal Ez Carter would
i proudly retort, as ne cut in two a bar of
I "Daisy Dean.” which he was endlessly
I and plaintively whistling or singing in
| battle or out. "and Little Buttons never
j lost his grip at the gun’s wheel, never
missed a tight vent and never got rattied
with tiis lanyard!”
"No. and he never squealed when the
big Johnnie yanked him, that day, over
his gun and was bringin’ his sabre down
on him like slicin’ •sow-belly,’ an’ Irish
Dennis shot the big confed over him, an’
they stuck there in the blood on the siz
zlin’ gun together!” snorted k reem Har
ford, our brawny No. 1, chucking me un
der the chin and smiling encouragingly
into the already set features of my tiny
boyish face.
"Kaith, if we'd had Little Buttons at
Augli rim—sure that's over agin Ballinas
loe Serg. McGee would add with back
ward prophecy and a wise and solemn
smile, "ould lreland'd be ould Ireland
still, an’ not be beggared vp!”
And so the running tire of half satire
and half compliment would flash among
toe guns or between the limbers and
caissons, or be taken up bv the sprawling
postillions: while Big Andy, the German
bugler, grave as a kaiser, would polish
his bugle on his sleeve or silently nip com
forting pinches of snuff, and Capt. Cooper.
Lieuts. Cunningham and Pratt, and even
handsome Orderly Sergeant Powers,
would look around upon their men as if to
say, “We're not all regulation size, nor
age, nor dress; but we re fighters, lads,
Little Buttons one and all!” or still be
stow on me a glance half of pitty and
half of affection; all of which—and never
the thrill of victory or tue triumph in a
brave enemy's defeat —kept my diminu
tive being and childish spirit in dogged,
tensest key.
I say these things because I always
look hack upon that time and upon that
soldier lad almost as a separate and dis
tinct personality from those in which I
have qver mfilly existed; and also in tho
nature of confession of meritless boyish
foolhardiness which won mo whatever
affection the rough and kindly natures
about me had in their inclination or
power to bestow.
In the listless and idle September and
October days that followed Sherman’s
great victory, which was really the be
ginning of the end of the American civil
war, battery D. was encamped with
various other commands near the hamlet
of East Point, a few miles south of the
city of Atlanta.
Old Charlie and the little flag had been
returned Pi me; and to the trifling duties
of guidon had been added the more oner
ous camp life exactions of company clerk.
In this capacity I carried and brought the
mail to and from army corps headquar
ters, delivered and often received the vol
uminous reports and brief orders, and, in
fact, gradually became a sort of a gen
eral orderly for our officers and mounted
errand-boy for our droning roadside
camp.
This often brought me on various tri
fling missions within the captured city.
While its activities were very great
through Sherman’s reorganization of his
army and the extensive preparations for
his still secretly planned march to the
sea, they were military activities alone;
aud to me, hoy though I was, the half
ruined public edifices, the dismantled
forts, the barred or silent and empty
shops, the avenues of leveled elms and
limes, the shell-ridden churches, schools
and warehouses,and above all the dreary,
ghostly homes, closely shuttered and
barred or transformed into slatternly
barracks for our soldiers, were among the
saddest spectacles of the war.
This was intensified and still more
deeply embittered by the utter failure of
my chivalrous mission for the discovery
and rescue of Beatrice.
This charge had grown upon me as the
sacred Mecca of tn.y childish aspiration
That white face of the father had haunted
me reprovingly. The beautiful and inno
cent face of his daughter had beckoned
me on.
Every shot or shell which had leaped
from our bellowing guns upon the doomed
city seemed to my overwrought fancy a
mortal challenge to her tender life. Even
when the cry, "Atlanta is ours!” went up
from an hundred thousand throats, it
stilled my heart and choked my tongue.
Beatrice hopeful and innocent, Beatrice
helpless and alone, Beatrice ground be
tween the merciless teeth of war, flitted
through my dreams, whispered encourage
ment in the very "ping” of bullets beside
my head, hung like the flaming Virgin in
the rapt pictures of the masters, floated
spirit-like within and above the smoke of
our eauuon aud took on dolorous and
awful forms in every grewsome change of
cloud hung batllo.
Never did old Charlie's hoofs ring out
such impatient staccato as when he bore
me to the ancient mansion where 1 had
found Signor Bellini's conservatory to be
located. Never did his laggard hoofs so
drive despairing echoes into rider's heart,
as when we turned away from the place,
now transformed into army engineers’
headquarters, where smart sentries were
pacing the broad portico or loitering be
side the silent fountains.
Then followed weeks of fruitless, heart
deadening search.
The flutter of every woman's gown, the
flash of every woman's band, the half
caught glimpse of every woman’s face,
startled me on and on with the thrill of
hope which ever ended in a desolate pang
of utter dread and loss.
Back at the camp, where I had become
haggard, moody and silent, oue day Corp.
Ez. Carter stopped his tender numbers of
“Daisy Deane" long enough to remark in
a melancholy tone to some comrades
near:
"The campaign was too much for Little
Buttons, lie’s going off all in a heap!”
Then the boys began to regard me more
closely. The rough fellows would edge
pp to mo witli cheery and sympathetic
words. Some brusquely took from me
various portions of m.v work Even the
best of our i>oor food found its way to my
plate, at mess.
They piled me with all manner of
fatherly questions While tiie tears
welled into m.y foolish eyes, I could only
remain stubbornly siluut. Then by a lit
tle ruse they brought me to the doctor s
attention at sick-call.
"Snaumiing!—Bah !—shamming I” was
his pleasant dictum with an oath, as he
mounted his horse and with his assistant
rode away; but that brigade surgeon
would never have returned to head
quarters with whole hones had not his
steed taken him at a lively pace out of
tho dutches of the lighting hoys of bat
tery 1).
“Faith, its shammers ye all are!" indig
nantly remarked Sergt. Mel.ee. “Can’t
ye see it’s th’ ache o' th' heart for th’
home behind, that’s aitin’ th' life out o’
Little Buttons!”
Aud so it stood at homesickness with
tho men ; and Ez Carter, loyal soul that
he was! sang himself hoarse and whistled
himself parched and dry from his efforts
to enliven my spirits with the saddening
strains of "Daisy Deane,” ami oven big
Andy, with protruding eyes aud bulging
cheeks, worked beside me for hours out
of tne very goodness of his honest Ger
man heart with his ear-splitting bugle’s
b:are; while Manzel Burr, F'reem Har
ford. Doc Lewis and Seed Rogers, from as
many different squads-and bless their
gen roas tenderness to the end of their
civilian days!—endeavored lo win me
back to comradeship, through cards, in
the adroit bestowal upon m.v fortunes of
various tempting "jack-pots!”
But I carried my secret and hurt alone;
the sorriest way on earth to carry a griev
ous load.
Added to its crushing weight was an
other momentous secret which aimost
frenzied my boyish heart
At department and corps headquarters
my frequent visits had made officials and
attaches unmindful of my tiny presence.
I had seen enough ami heard enough to
dimly comprehend the coming scattering
of Atlanta's inhabitants and the complete
annihilation of the city by tire
Whatever depths of dolor this life may
have in store for me, there can never
again come the dread, the actual despair
and the agouy of compassion which I. as
that boy soldier, constantly suffered until
this measureless brutality of pretended
military necessity was partially complete.
Contemplation of the monstrous inhu
manity, coupled with iis certain extinc
tion of my last hope to succor the ill-fated
Beatrice, so maddened my childish soul
that X would almost have committed mur
der to have averted it. For the few days
between the promulgation of the order
for the city’s depopulation and this sad
dest exodus of modern history, I was half
beside myself with impotence and grief.
The highway leading from the city to
the confederate lines above Lovejoy's,
trailed alongside our camp. Sherman's
huge army wagons were utilized to trans
port such as had no other means of eon
veytnce. A double line of federal guards
fenced in the highway to a point where
the flags of the union and the confederacy,
with the white emblem of truce between,
stood almost side by side.
Here confederate guards carried on the
bristling fronts of soldiery to the picket
and main lines of the southern arm.v.
Nearly 30.000 souls, driven ruthlessly
from their homes, were forced through
this infamous Highway of Despair; and
with flashing eyes and heart of shame
for my country and its cause, I believe I
looked into the face of every refugee that
passed that way. May God spare the
world another such frightful panorama
of human woe!
Toward evening on the third and last
day of that dreadful exodus, all but a
half score wagons had passed our camp.
Interested and curious comrades, iu sol
emn-laced squads, fx-om time to time had
kept me company.
"Come on to mess. boys. That’s the last
of ’em!” cried one of the artillerymen;
and all but myself, who was watching
the cavalcade to the last laggard refugee,
and Sergeant McGee, who was regarding
me gravely and quizzically, departed has
tily lor their suppers beside the camp
fires.
I had risen from my seat on the old
stone wall abutting the road to return to
my tent with Dennis; but at that moment
1 saw two faces which set my little body
a-trembling.
One was the dark face of a man of
Latin blood. Jolted from side to side by
the heavy wagon, he was wheedling and
scowling and half supporting as best he
could the slight figure of a maiden. The
other, when the violence of the wagon’s
jolting had for an instant tossed her curls
aside, 1 knew was the face of Beatrice.
“Ye have a bad chill;” said Dennis
curtly, turuing toward tbe tents. "Come
along, Little Buttons, an’ vve'li bate that
ag.v wid a drop o’ th’ rale right sort!”
Iu the moment his back was to me, I
had sprung into the open end of the
wagon benind the one containing Sig.
Bellini and Beatrice, a wagon filled with
singing aud wailing negroes; and in an
other moment Sergt. McGee aud the
pleasant camp of Battery D were shut
from sight by the blinding dust of the
road.
All roads may be alike to the madness
of jouth; but the road that led to the
possible rescue of this helpless girl was
the only one then open on earth to me.
All the transport wagons belonging to
Gen. Sherman had been rapidly returned.
The last few which were being hurried
forward belonged to the enemy. 1 could
see, from occasional glances as we passed,
the guards, done with their sad work,
deploying into squads and the squads
gradually forming in dark blue masses
for impatient return to the friendly en
vironments of their own camps.
The point of truce was soon gained.
Here cavalry from both forces had been
stationed. The formalities of their filial
separation were trifling. As the flag of
truce was furled, the hostile flags moved
in opposite directions. With grim salutes
and right-about-faces, the soldiers of
each flag fell into marching order and
went their separate ways. Our wagons
were shortly beyond Hood’s outlying pick
ets; and here I suddenly realized that I
was a union soldier, iu full uniform and
without warrant, inside the confederate
lines!
-1 do not think that this startled me at
first. It simply spurred me to action. I
remember that my instant impulse was
to iu some manner change my apparel.
Some of the blacks were stupid from
drink, and effecting this was not difficult.
With one I exchanged my hat. with
another my jacket, 9rith this one my
padded artillery vest and with another,
in the darkness, my tidy artillery l trous
ers.
Hardly had this been done, when wo
came upon a belated refugee’s camp, out
side of Hood’s main lines, but close under
tbe confederate advance redoubts. Here
a few hundred humans were huddled,
without shelter from the night, beside a
small stream. Some were dejectedly
munching scanty food; but most had
fallen spiritless or from exhaustion be
side their pitiably meager belongings
where the wagous had hurriedly left
them.
Noticing these things, but with my at
tention fixed ui>on only two human beings
1 followed the latter to the edge of the
stream beside an abandoned campfire,
where, after aimost threatening injunc
tions for the girl to remain where bidden,
the Italian left her apparently to make
provision for food and for the night.
In an instant I was beside her, ex
citedly whispering:
"Beatrice! Beatrice!”
She was not even startled. She seemed
merely listening as in a dream for surer
token of kinship and affection in the half
aspirated calling of her name.
"Beatrice! Beatrice!”
I bent close to her wan and haggard
face.
"Oh, God! Have one of you come at
last ?”
"Yes, yes, yes!—from your father.
Hush ! Here, see this picture he gave me.
Read tiie words with it. I will take you
from this villain to him.”
She sprang to her feet; but I gently
though instantly forced her down.
“No.no! Not now; Not until a few
hours later. Seem docile and obedient to
Bellini. Can you swim?”
"Yes, yes!”
“Are you brave?”
"After to day, there is little to fear.”
"\\ ill you obey me implicitly to reach
your home?"
"To the limit of my life!”
‘‘Then, when you are certain your
Hack devil of a companion and the camp
aro asleep steal to the bank or the
stream. Move fearlessly down stream,
until you meet me. Bellini is returning.
Remember!”
I do not remember how long I waited
for Beatrice; hut, sure of her bravery
and prudence as she was unquestioning of
my loyal guidance, these were the ouly
calm and certain hours 1 had known
since our forces crossed Etowah.
1 knew she would come; as she did I
knew that the approaching stealthy foot
steps were hers. I knew that the unseen
lorui 1 felt near me was that of Beatrice;
and it was the happiest moment of mv
life when her outstretched, groping band
grasped mine, and without even a whis
pered word, we stepped softly into the
placid stream together—two children,
seeing through blindness, going forward
as in the broad day by night, upheld in
their infinite innocence and ignorance by
infinite trust and faith!
What were my plans? I had none. The
stars told me the stream flowed toward
, the blessed Northland. Silent as our
water-fowl and reptile companions, hand
in hand we waded, walked aud swam.
Silent as the preternatural silence
brooding between opposing armies, we
halted where a huge sycamore had fallen
across and almost dammed the stream,
and listened breathless to a measured
ghostly tread.
It went and came, from sward and covert
and copse to fallen sycamore trunk. It
beat hollow and solemn and portentous
across this. Thence it swished and
brushed over sward to covert and copse,
and back again echoingly: a terrible
pendulum of fate across our way to
safety.
An hour or an age thus passed, when
other footsteps approached the left bank
of the stream. Then a muffled rattling of
musket in dewwet hands above our heads,
and this challenge:
"Halt!—Who goes there?”
“Grand rounds!”
“Advance, grand rounds, and give the
countersign!”
Straight to a leveled gun above us came
another muffled form It bent over the
bayonet ond whispered:
•’Remember— Atlanta!’’
The musket clattered to the sentry’s
shoulder. Then it clattered to the posi
tion of "Present arms!” The officer of
the guard passed slowly on; while the
musket clattered back to the sentry’s
shoulder, and the ghostly tramp, tramp,
tramp, was again begun.
Two dripping figures lay for a time to
gether in the rank grass beside the
stream.
When they arose they stepped fear
lessly toward the sentry’s path. A stern
command rang out:
"Halt!—Who goes there?”
“Friends, with the countersign!”
“Advance, friends, and give the coun
tersign !”
Two figures bent over the sentry’s lev
eled gun.
"Remember —Atlanta!” they whispered
as cheerily as when giving the touch
word of some pretty children's game,
while with a gruff “Pass on!” thesentr.v’s
musket clattered back to his shoulder
without salute.
We sped across an open field, and when
we had at last gained the highway over
which I had so strangely come, clasping
the girl in m.v arms, I murmured ecstat
ically in her ear:
"With God’s help, we are outside the
confederate lines!”
Not a wisper nor a shudder, nor even a
ripple of emotion was evoked. Just an
answering pressure from the brave girl’s
hand, and we were away to the north
again like two winged wraiths of the
night.
After perhaps two miles had been tra
versed, 1 saw the stream we had followed
now winding closely beside the highway;
and remembered that at a place where
the transport wagons crossed the stream
on the previous evening I had noticed a
stone bridge, with parapet-like copings,
theu occupied by federal outposts. Reach
ing this, our dilemma now seemed insur
mountable.
Here we flung away our shoes, and hug
ging the copiug wall, opposite the side
where I had seen the pickets in blue, we
began moving stealthily across. One of
my hands held fast to Beatrice. The
other groped from stone to stone along
the rotten masonry. A false step caused
me to stumble, and sent m.y hand forward
with unusual force. It missed the wall,
and the next instant a lance like bayonet
passed entirely through the flesh of my
left forearm.
No challenge or word followed, and I
made no outcry. Dropping the hand of
Beatrice for a moment, I bent forward
and saw that that the figure holding the
musket behind the bayonet was strangely
silent. I peered again and listened. The
picket was grimly and valiantly gripping
his gun, which was pointed toward the
enemy, but this hero of perhaps half a
hundred battles was snoring peacefully
in sleep.
I grasped the gun barrel gently below
the bayonet lock; pulled my wounded
arm from off the steel, as the blood
spurted down upon the soldier's leg;
grasped Beatrice and pressed dizzily for
ward ; when at a safe distance hurled a
stone back upon the sentry that he might
escape death from being diecovered
asleep upon his post; in another half hour,
without interruption or observation, hail
shut the girl securely within my own
little white tent, which danced all manner
of ghostly antics before my eyes; and
then, half fainting from exertion, excite
ment and loss of blood, fell in an uncon
scious heap upon some near bags of fod
der—when all the world was still.
Always like a troubled yet gladsome
dream havo remained with me the events
of the morning following.
Indistinct were the notes of the reveille.
Far and whispered and almost like sound
less lip-movings, were the shouts in my
ear by Sergt. McGee of "Little Buttons!
Little Buttons!—Out o’this, t’ yer tint,
or th’ divil's own sorra ye’ll see!”
Incomprehensible, too, were some
strange flight of mine, with seeming
clauging, sabre-like wings, to the head
quarters’ tent and the shadowy guards,
the scowling officers, the half heard ques
tions and the impatient orders that meet
me there. Dim and torturing was a great
placard I seemed to see, every letter of
whose words like flaming fire burned
worse than death into m.v whirling brain,
of
Little Buttons.
DfSt.IRAC.ID!
For Absence within
the Enemy s Lines
without leave 1
Faint and far were the bugle notes of
roll call; the droning summons of the
orderly and its responses: the salutes be
tween officers and men; the reading of
some hateful order; the instant murmur
of disapproval which followed; the im
petuous protests and half-frightened re
proofs.
Dim and unreal still, the signal to my
guards, who grappled with mo to force
the placard over my shoulders. Like a
whirlwind the maddened struggle then ;
the breaking of the lines; the wild rush
upon the headquarter’s tent; my own
rescue; the rending of the placard to
tatters; the sudden vision of a shoeless
maiden spring from a tiny white tent,
clasping roe in her arms, crying
piteously, "He saved me from worse than
death!” the silence of the strong men
and the mists in their eyes as they gazed
on the ragged, torn and blood stained
children; the flight to our camp from tho
refugees' roadway of a venerable and
haggard civilian who burst through the
throng with cries of: “God be praised t
M.v Beatrice is left to mo!—saved to
us,” this as ho clutched me, too, iu
his trembling arms, "by my own broth
er's son!—and then, still as in a dream,
the wild huzzas, hand shakings, embrac
ings, mingled songs of the ‘ Star Span
gled Banner” and “Dixie,” officers and
men indistinguishable from each other
through the ecstactic tears trailing over
their war-grimed fates; with big Andy
perched on tiie artificers’ wagon, sound
ing great blasts from his bugle, and Ez
Carter endeavoring to drown the deliri
ous notes with his pean to "Daisy Deane
brought us all to a pandemonium of joy:
until the very cannon seemed wieatbed
in glittering smiles along the pleasant
camp front of fighting Battery D.
“Over nil this blessed, sorrow-sweet
dream there never rested but one tiny
patch of shadow,” concluded tho Student
Traveler, with a quiet sigh. "Sergt.
Dennis McGee has never quite forgiven
Little Buttous because his kindly Hibern
ian diagnosis of the ache o’ his heart was
for the curly-haired maiden before him,
rather than for the dear old farm home
behind!”
A HOUSE OF HORRORS.
The Sullen Rancher and His Private
Graveyard.
From the Cincinnati Enquirer.
San Diego, Cal., Aug. 25.—A Pennsyl
vanian. aged but 88, unmarried, is the
narrator of experiences which in two
weeks made a lean and haggard thing of
him who was before a strong and hearty
man. He went to work for a rancher on
an isolated place near Campo. The
rancher and his wife called at his board
ing place on Fifth street, and drove him
sixty miles to tbe ranch. In a few mo
ments of conversation alone the woman
warned the head man that he would have
to "take the consequencesi” and stand up
for his rights, aster husband was a hard
man to work for. The rancher, a half
breed, seemed sullen and was singularly
reticent on the long ride.
"The house was a perfect arsenal,”
runs the hired man’s story, "all kinds of
firearms being conspicuous in every room
that I ivas permitted to enter, and, as if
to make the place more formidable, there
were six or eight dogs lounging about.
There were no visitors to the place that 1
know of, and so far as 1 could observe
none were wanted. The man seemed
anxious to be alone with the woman in
the house, and it did not take me long to
suspect that something was wrong about
the place.
"i he other day, when I was working
in a field at some little distance from the
house, I saw an Indian coming toward
me through the brush. I recognized him
as a neighboring rancher whom I had seen
the previous day working on bis place,
and whom J now discovered spoke good
English.
"As he approached I saw that he was
anxious to avoid being seen from my em
ployer’s house. I paid little attention to
it at the time, however. The Indian came
nearer and asked if I was working for
Mr. . naming the rancher. When I
answered in the affirmative, he said,
glancing toward a pile of brush some dis
tance from where he stood: “My friend,
I advise you to leave here. If you remain
you may follow those poor men over
there,’ and he pointed toward the brush.
‘You will find the bones under those
bushes .yonder, and just beyond you will
see three graves. The men whose bones
lie there were employed on this ranch,
and they have been killed. Look at the
charred bones to satisfy yourself, and
then leave here.’
“I left my work and went to the spot
indicated. Sure enough, there lay a
haman skull and other bones, and I
plainly made out enough to satisfy myself
that a man had been murdered. The
bones were charred and black, and an at
tempt had clearly been made to remove
all evidence of the crime by burning the
remains. A short distance beyond were
three mounds, evidently graves.
“As soon after dark as possible I got
my valise from my room, and. not waiting
to see about the wages due. I managed to
slip away without attracting the atten
tion of either the man or woman or the.
dogs.
"At every place I stopped I asked about
the rancher for whom I had been work
ing. The replies in every instance indi
cated that tho character of the man was
known to be very bad. I continued on
toward San Diego and arrived completely
exhausted. The soles of my shoes were
completely worn out by the sixty mile
walk.”
GEORGIA PEACHES.
This State Will Soon Rival Delaware
as a Peach Producer.
From the Washington Star.
‘ Georgia is going to give Delaware a
close race one of these days for supremacy
as the peach-growing state.” said George
McFarland of Savannah at the Ebbitt
yesterday. “If the express companies
could only be brought down from their
high horses sufficiently to deal fairlv with
tbe growers of early fruit in the south,
and reasonable rates were charged for
shipping it to northern markets, the in
crease iu this branch of agriculture would
be immediate and enornflous, but in spite
of such drawbacks it is already going
ahead so rapidly as to be tbe subject of
remark. In Berrien county many farm
ers are changing their pursuits into peach
growing, and thousands of trees will be
set out this coming winter. Just now it
is the budding season and the opera
tion is quite interesting. In the winter
the peach growers plant quantities of
peach stones in drills about six inches
wide and three feet apart. They sprout
readily, and in August have reached a
hightof twtnty to thirty inches The
nurseryman then goes to an older tree of
the variety he wishes to grow and clips a
bud from it. After removing all the hard
wood and leaving the bark remaining, he
goes to the sprouts, and selecting one
which is flourishing he splits its bark
near the ground and inserts the bud
against the juicy sap and binds it on with
soft twine or grass. When the bud has
taken sufficient growth the sprout is cut
off just above it, and next winter these
little trees are transplanted to the or
chard. It has been sufficiently proven
that the soil and climate of Georgia com
bine to produce the finest peaches in tiie
world, both in size, firmness of flesh and
flavor.”
A Remarkable Old Prayer.
From the Western Christian Advocate.
Tlio following prayer, -set forth by
order of King Edward the Sixth”—about
1550, or say three and a half centuries
ago—is as good reading as can be found
outside of the Bible, and is still fitted to
one of the sore needs of this troubled
world. Substitute for “them that possess
the grounds and pastures of the earth,”
“all employers of labor,” and this prayer
will fit the times we live in:
“We heartily pray thee to send thy
holy spirit into the hearts of them that
possess the pastures and grounds of the
earth, that they, remembering themselves
to be thy tenants, may not rack or stretch
out tho rents of their houses or lands, nor
yet take unreasonable tines or moneys,
after the manner of covetous world
lings; but so let them out that
the inhabitants thereof may be able to
pay the rents and to live and
nourish their families, and remember the
poor. Give them grace, also, to consider
that they are but strangers and pilgrims
in this world, having here no dwelling
place, but seeking one to come; that they,
remembering the short continuance of
this life, may be content with that which
is sufficient, and not join house to house
and land to land to the impoverishment
ol others; but so behave themselves in
letting their tenements, lands and pas
tures that, after this life, they may be
received into everlasting habitations.”
It is easy to make the proper changes to
fit our ease; impossible to better the doc
trine.
Bitten by a Crazy Murderess.
From tho New York Post.
Monticello, N. Y., Aug. 24.—0n June 27
last, as Sheriff Beecher was conducting
Lizzie Hallida.v, the woman convicted of
murder here, into court, slie turned upon
him fiercely and bit him in the hand.
Three or four weeks ago the wound be
gan to burn, and now the arm hasswollen
to the elbow, giving him intense pain. Un
less the swelling can bo stopped it is
feared that be will lose his arm.
Anita—Do you know I like appearing In tho
living pictures belter than any other kind id
show 1 was ever ini’
Etta -Why's that?
Anita—We don't have to have any dress re
hearsals, you know.—South Boston News.
MEDICAL.
“Mothers’
Friend”
COLVIN, LA., Dec. 2,1886.—Mv 3
wife used “Mothers’ Friend’’o
before her third confinement, and!
says she would not be without it |
for hundreds of dollars.—Dock 3
MILLS. S
— y
Sent by express, charges prepaid S
receipt of price. 1:50 per bottle. Booi q
To Mother* ’ mailed free, containing ri R
uable Information. Sold by all Druggists 0
UKADFIELD REGULATOR Cos.. Atlanta Cs'f
CONSUMPTION
SURELY CURED.
To the Editor— Please inform your read,
ers that I have a positive remedy for the
above named disease. By its timely USo
thousands of hopeless cases have been per.
manently cured. I shall be glad to sem}
two bottles of my remedy free to any of vonr
readers who have consumption if they will
send me their express and post office address.
T. A. Slocum, M.C., 163 Pearl St., New York!
SPECIALIST. ~
WHEN OTHEKS'FaIL
CONSULT
Dr. Broadfoot.
If sick and despondent, tbe best medical
help is none too good. Why not consult a
specialist of established reputation and un
questioned reliability, such as Dr. Broadfoot?
Whatever opinion Is given by him you can
rely upon it as being true. He is a true genu*
Ine specialist In all diseases peculiar to men
and women.
Special at.
eases and all
Its attending
ailments of
middle aged
ness of body
falling mem’
oTh e r die
ey m pt om
unfitting one for study or business. Blood
and Skin Diseases, Sores. Tumor. Pimplea,
Tetter, Eczema.Ulcers,Loss of Hair, Scrofula
and Blood poison of every nature, prlmarv
and secondary, promptly and permanently
eradicated. Unnatural discharges promptly
cured In a few days. Quiok. sure and s&te.
Mail treatment given by sending for symp
tom blanks. No 1 for men, No. 2 for woman.
No. 3 for skin diseases. AU correspondent!
answered promptly. Business strlotly co*
fidentlal. Entire treatment sent free from
observation to all parts of the country. Aft
dress er call on
J BROADFOOT, M. D..
IM Broughton street (up stairs),
Savannah.
Ciir™isilpiiiiollf
SCHEDULE FOR
isle oi nope, Montgomery 000 mi Minions
SUm day TlfiflE.
CARS RUN AS FOLLOWS:
Leave Bolton street 9:07 a. m.; leave Isle of
Hopeß:l7 a. m.; leave Second avenue for Isle
ot tiope. 10:15,11:15a. m.. 12:IS. 1:15.2:15,3:15,
4:15,5:15,6:15. 7:15 and 8:15 p. m.; the 9:0?
from Bolton street, and 11:15, 2:15.4:15 7:15
from Second avenue, connect with the steam
cars at Sandfly.
Leave isle of Hope 11:15 a. m., 12:15, 1:15,
2:15,3:15, 4:15,5:15.6:15, 7:15, 8:15 and 9 p. m.
Cars from Thunderbolt to Isle of Hope every
hour after 2:00 p. m. until 6 p. m.
Leave Montgomery 8:15, 11 a. m., 2 and 6 p.
m.. connect with Electric cars at Sandfly.
Leave Isle of Hope for Thunderbolt at 2:80
and hourly afterwards until 6:30 p. m.
CITY AND SUBURBAN R’Y CO.
hardware!
HARDWARE,
Bar, Band and Hoop Iron,
WAGON MATERIAL,
Navaf Stores Suppfies.
FOR SALK BV
EDWARD LOVELL'S SONS
155 Broughton and 138-140 State Sts.
BUSINESS OPPORTUNITIES.
Jau. 4, I*4 percent. Feb. 1, 11 percent.
15, lO per cent. ** 15, 15 per cent.
March 1, 9 per cent.
“ 15, 8 per cent.
TOTAL, 65 per cent.
We have paid to our customer* in 60 days.
Profits paid twice each month: money can
be withdrawn any time: S2O to SI,OOO can be
invested; write for iniormation.
FISIIFK til t'O , Hankers and Brokers,
18 and '4O Broadway, New York
INSURANCE.
CHARLES F.PRENDERCAST
(Successor to K. H. Footman & Cos.)
fire. Moiine one sioi ink
103 BAY STREET.
fNer.tWestof the Cotton ExchangeJ
Telephone call No. 3L SAVANNAH. GA.
PRINTING.
The Morning News
Printing House (Job De
partments) has added a
large stock of Wedding
Stationery, and prints and
lithographs Invitations,
Cards, etc., in the latest
styles.
WEDDING
INVITATIONS
and CARDS.
Parties contemplating taking
this important step in life are
respectfully solicited to call on
or address
THE MOENIN3 NEWS,
Savannah, Ga.
Ball and Party Stationery,
Visiting Cards, and other fine
work, either printed or en
graved at the shortest notice.