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Io
c^OT TTH
THE CRAY AND THE BLUE
TO SOrrHXRH HEX AXP WOM«]»
of the devoted town, destined to be the
theatre of such a succession of bloody
tragedies, to be torn from its friends
ancTto be wrested again from its ene
mies. The Southern troops were at the
front and the women of the Confeder
To the generation of people who
have sprung to maturity in the South
since the war, we put this question : k e pt their homes under the eye of a
Are you indifferent toward, or forget- watchful foe. Banks occupied Winches-
3 j ter and the Northern blue tilled the hor-
ful of,the Confederate soldier? &earce jzQn ^ mon g t h e group of officers was
tour hearts and answer! The mis- one Colonel Everett of Massachusetts,
... whom the contemptuous Southern
sion of this page is to emphasize the im- j S p eec k designated “a Boston Yankee,”
portance of keeping alive in the South- I yet whose marks of breeding, of fine
. j courtesy and courage might well have
ern breast the emotions of sympathy wreste( j f r0 m friend or foe the opinion
and gratitude due to the ‘‘Veterans of j that he was “every inch a gentleman.”
. ^ ,, ,, _ ,, . 0 .. i Between the temporary victors and
the South.' Is there a true Southern ! vanquished there was na turally but
not small interchange of social amenities;
nevertheless, the colonel was brought in
contact in one way or another with Mrs.
Fountain and her lofty young daughter,
will
man, woman, or child, who
Eeslously aid this cause by increasing
the circulation of The Sunny Sour 7 ??
This page is designed in addition, a? a
depository of detached historical inci
dents of the war between the States.
It is a standing, and one of the most
Qighly valued departments of The
Sunny South. Historians cannot
spare space or time to record the min
utiae of marches, battles and sieges.
and in some manner the impression had
grown in his mind that if he had ever
cherished an ideal of the Southern maid
or matron these types came very near
j satisfying him. With the stately sweet
ness of the girl and the calm dignity of
the white-haired dame there was an un
failing courtesy even toward an enemy,
that unfortunately sometimes forgotten
: in the bitterness of feeling those times
of strife engendered. In the discharge
| of his duty it had happened more than
been
. . . | once that the colonel had
They must be gathered and preserved compelled to searc h the Fountain res
in a fragmentary manner by the scat- idence for suspected fugitives; the
cered survivors of the strife, or be lost
Co posterity forever. Therefore to all
men and women who from experience
or recital of veterans, know of inter-
ladies had politely received him and
stoo'd aside while he prosecuted his
fruitless search, evidently recognizing
it as a simple duty of war and to be
expected. On several occasions, Ever
ett had appeared at a critical juncture
.. . . t , and curbed the predatory license of his
sating happenings of the war,a cordial1 aT1
ctr^rmoH into tVia
invitation—yea more—an earnest
iicitation is extended to contribute to
The Gray and The Blue. Ex-Federai
veterans are included within the pur
view of this paragraph, and good short
.ooems are desirable as well as prosp
sketches, Eil Sunny South.
Is Money Scarce?
It is probable that many Confederate
veterans who are anxious to read Tiie
Sunny South put off subscribing for
the want of ready ca*-h. Now, to all
who feel safe in subscribing on a credit
we say send in your names with request
to us to wait for the pay until November
1st, 1894, and they shall go on the mail
ing list at once.
A Faithful Enemy.
so- premises, and as much as lay in his
' power he exercised a protecting super
vision over the household. It was
; chiefly in hospital work he had ob
served Lucile and found that in her
ministry she was no respecter of per-
! sons. Once, after a sharp skirmish
I that left its wreckage of wounded a< d
dying, he saw her ministering to a lad
in the Northern blue and saw the
j grateful look into her tender face
i through the film of pain in the lad’s
j dying eyes.
After this he ventured to show her
one day the picture of his two mother
less boys whose affectionate scrawls
; came to him every week. A look of
| interest moved the fair calm of her
I face as she handed back the picture
: with some remark about his being for
tunate in having his sons safe from
harm in such times.
i
At last came the eventful day when
Jackson’s conquering hosts poured
down upon the foe and swept them
like chaff before the wind. All that
forenoon the exultant townspeople
stood at their front window and
watched the tide of war surge Through
Main street—the retreat that became
a flight and the flight a panic. Mrs.
Fountain and Lucile at the parlor
window heard the “rebel jell” as it
Somewhere facing on Main street in
the old town of Winchester, Va., wlieie
the thoroughfare straggled out into the
suburbs, there stood in the early days
of the war a big, roomy brown bouse
with green window blinds and long 1 tore the air above rifle and cannonade
porches at side and rear. The steps and saw mingled in the flying mob the
leading to the wide and hospitable door ! beloved gray jackets. Presently there
were flush with the sidewalk, and on the came staggering past the window, hat-
right extended a great, rambling, shady Lss and coatless, pallid and bleeding,
space behind a high green fence that the figure of Col. Everett. It was the
was half orchard, half flower garden, j impulse of a moment ; Mrs. Fountain
playing poker and drinking unlimited
“Old Bye.” The colonel drifted about
in the seething maelstrom, picking up
a living by scrap work eked out by his
wife’s slender earnings, for she had
obtained scantily paid employment to
write humorous articles for a ihird-
rate publication. But the colonel’s
wounds broke out afresh now and
ao-ain and kept him bedridden for
months, and on his brave wife devolved
the double duty of nursing him and
keeping the wolf from the door. Poor
woman! she was burning her candle
at both ends; night after night she
sat at her husband’s bedside until
dawn, ministering to his comfort,
while her fingers flew, peuning para
graphs of ghastly merriment wrung
from a heart that was anything but
gay. One morning the doctor—a
genial, ch-ery little man, who cherished
a great inward sympathy for this
gentle mannered, retiring pair—
knocked at the door on his rounds and
heard the soft patter of bare feet, and
two pairs of little hands reached up
and opened the door. And the scene
as he entered made a queer lump rise
in his throat. The burned-out lamp
smoked and sputtered; pens and
sheets of “copy” lay in a heap upon the
floor, and prone across the bed lay the
overtasked wife in a dead faint, while
the helpless invalid chafed with his
one hand her hands and temples and
spoke heart-breaking words of endear-
m-nt in her dull ears. The busy doc
tor restored much comfort before he
left, but at his next visit to the stylish
flat of prosperous journalists on a
fashionable avenue, one of whose boys
on his holiday trip had overeaten him
self—he was absent-minded and quiet,
This kindiy little man who saw so
many pathetic sides of life. Then he
unburdened him»elf of the morning’s
episode to the journalist. Inquiry
followed and resulted in the doctor’s
bringing in one day, when Mrs. Thorn-
berry was convalescing, a tall stranger
who came forward laughingly and de
preciatingly and introduced himself
as “an old enemy.” The flush that
leaped into the poor, wan cheek and
the light into the soft, dark eyes, re
called something of the Lucile of former
years, but it went to Everett’s heart
with a pang to see the change in her.
There was the same lofty sweetness,
but the old Lucile! There were white
streaks in this woman’s auburn coils.
But Everett had a fine tact and his
graceful courtesy smoothed away"the
embarrassing moment.
It was not long after this that Col.
Thornberry was tendered a desk in the
office of one of the great dailies and
so his fortunes be^an to alter. Not
that Everett played the fairy god
mother to his protege or anything of
the kind, but Thornberry was grate
fully conscious of an influence some
where behind him that sought to g*ve
his work prominence and enabled him
to gain reputation both by his journal
istic and literary achievements, and
when his book, “War-time Reminis-
censes of the Shenandoah,” came from
the press with spirited illustrations by
his wife, the cordial criticism that
sent it with a bound into public favor
was understood to be from the influ
ential pen of his “faithful enemy.”
Coyle Douglas.
Deming, N. M.
ture of sixty-four men, the rear guard of
the 20th corps, if my memory serves me
right. It was a company of the 107 New
York, in command of Capt. Richardson.
Opr company consisted of about sixteen
(16) men, and here was the rub, with six
ty-four men on our hands, and the nearest
troops that we knew anything about was
at Macon. Fortunately, we struck a lot
of school boys at Rutledge, the school
house having been burned that day, we
armed the boys with the guns captured
from the yanks and turned the prisoners
over to them to be taken to Macon. I
would like very much to know whether
the boys ever arrived at Macon with the
prisoners? No doubt some of them are
still living and could give the desired in
formation.
This imperfect sketch is written by one
of the few men who followed Sherman
from Atlanta to Bentonville, N. C.
W. E. M.
The Last
Flap of the
Bars.”
Stars and
Reminiscence of one of
Texas Rangers.
Terry’s
full of all kinds of clambering green
things, and cool sod and perfumed
shadow.
The grounds ran back indefinitely to
the next street, for the easy-going town
in those days was not limited to rectan
gular blocks, and streets followed their
own devices as to boundaries. Perhaps
the old house is there yet, surviving the
vieisitudes of war, and time, and change
and partaking somewhat of the self-as
sertive spirit of the “New South” which
has crept over even drowsy Winchester.
At the time of the opening of hostil
ities this house was the home of Mrs.
Fountain, the widow of an old planter,
who lived there with her two sons and
daughter and her retinue of negro ser
vants in the easy comfort and plenty of
the prosperous Southern homes.
There might have been more beauti
ful women in Virginia than pretty Lu
cile Fountain; there were certainly none
more charming or graciously lovable.
When.it became evident at last that Vir
ginia had “gone over to the South” and
the war was a settled fact, when her
sons were answering to the roll-call in
the white heat of divers passions, the
two boys went forth gaily and gladly
from the old house—what young soldier
heart ever beat doubtingly in the storm
of those early days?—and with them
went Lucile’s young lover, Harry Thorn-
berry. For the women who remained
behind there was no time for loneliness;
in the stirring tumult around them there
was active work for hand and brain. •
Camp life was all about them; eager
faces flushed with hope and expectant
victory came and went; the rattle of
drums and the shrill music of fifes and
the beat of marching feet made the air
tremulous.
At last the invader was in possession
leaned from the window and pointed
to a little door set in rhe green wall
and letting into a private alley
leading through the shrubbery
to the back street. Col. Everett
darted in and the pell mell stream
rushed on. By evening the rout was
over and Winchester was again in the
hands of its friends. There was re
joicing in many households over the
return of absent soldier boys, and un
der the fountain roof were gathered
once more the two sons and Captain
Thornberry. At nightfall the party
went out to reconnoitre for some trace
of the fugitive, Everett, but found none;
he had vanished completely and left
no clew.
The struggle dragged on, bringing
changing fortunes to each and
all. Twice over the Fountain
threshold the bodies of the boys were
borne, leaving the two sombre clad
women older and graver. Once there
was a hurried bridal and Thornberry,
promoted to the epaulets of a colonel,
hastened from the altar to the front.
Then the white-haired mother was
borne out to the cemetery and laid be
side her boys. After that the days
went on ever more darkly to the close
at Appomattox.
A year or two afterward Thornberry
found himself with wife and children,
an empty sleeve and a crippled knee,
in New York, that Mecca whither fled
many a poor Southerner during the
bitter era of reconstruction, broken in
health and purse. The ex-Confeder-
ate had not yet had the opportunity to
d-monstrate his ability in business, in
literature or the arts. Away from his
native environment he was supposed
to be capable only of cutting and
shooting, of fighting by “the code,”
About the time that Hood’s army left
Palmetto station for his Tennessee Cam
paign, I had the misfortune to have my
horse crippled by breaking through a
bridge. The command of which I was
a member, 8th Texas cavalry, was then
on the march for North Georgia, and I
was left behind with the wagons. As I
always had the greatest contempt for a
“wagon dog,” as we called those who
lagged behind, I went back to Gen. Hood
and reported the fix I was in. He told
me to report to Capt. A. M. Shannon,
who commanded his headquarter scouts,
which, by the way, were all from the reg
iment of which I was a member. The
Captain and his boys gave me a warm
welcome, and I remained with that little
crowd until the close of the war.
When Gen. Hood pulled out from Pal
metto Station for his Tennessee campaign,
Capt. Shannon was left in Atlanta to
work on the foraging parties that might
attempt to worry and harrass the people
in the immediate neighborhood of that
place, and we made it warm for the yanks
from that time till Sherman started South,
and no doubt some of the old citizens, if
still living, can testify.
The night that Atlanta was burned by
Sherman, we were given a farewell dance.
I have forgotten the names of the good
people, but 1 shall never forget the kind
ness and hospitality that was always ex
tended to us wherever we might be, but
especially down on South River, in the
neighborhood of Bethel chapel. We
broke up the dance about midnight, and
bidding Our kind entertainers farewell,
started out in search of “Sherman's Bum
mers.” We struck the first lot at Con
yers Station, and killed and captured a
few. The next fight worth noting was at
Covington, where we found a lot of bum
mers which we punished very severely,
as well as capturing some good horses!
I fitted myself with a pair of No. 5 cavalry
boots, being the lucky possessor of the
only pair of feet among the scouts that
could wear them.
The next exploit of note was the cap-
Capt. W. T. Jenkins of the 14th
North Carolina, and commanding that
regiment in Cox’s brigade at Ap
pomattox, testifies to the fact, in a re
cent issue of The Sunny South, that
the “Old North Sfeite” had the honor
to fire the last gun at Appomattox.
I have often heard,and never denied,
that Cox’s brigade, composed of the
2nd, lltb,14th and 30th North Carolina,
made the last charge and fired the last
gun. This was Ramseur’s old brigade.
He was killed at Cedar Run. This
brigade was known in the army as
Ramsenr’s “Ironsides.” In a novel
entitled “Don Miff”—the author, a
Virginia lawyer, [of Richmond—this
famous brigade is mentioned as having
held at flay in the Valley of Virginia
from early dawn till late in the day—
till re-enforcements could come up—
the entire Federal force under Sheri
dan. Ramseur and his heroic band of
1,200 Carolinians excited the admira
tion of the author: also that of Stone
wall “Jim” Walker, of Stonewall
brigade, for their bravery at the
“bloody angte,” 12th Mnyjj&L It was
here where Edward ^ Johnson’s
division, composed largely of Vir
ginians, were swept entirely away,
that the gallant Ramsuer’s and two
other North Carolina brigade'* held
Hancock’s corps in check till Harr s’
Mississippi and others could c >me up.
There appeared in last week’s Atlanta
Constitution, a thrilling narative by
James Riley, entitled “The Stars and
Bars,” giving a history of the cruise
of the Shenandoah as she made a “belt
of fire around the globe.” I met a
brother of the commander of the
Shenandoah, who showed me a
memento of the famous cr ise of this
gallant ship. It was a ship’s chro
nometer, one ot forty or fifty that was
taken from prizes captured from the
Yankee merchant marine. Ttie
Shenandoah, wherever she went, cre
ated terror, so rapid was her move
ments. Its brave commander was a
North Carolinian, Janies Iredell Wad
dell, the Stonewall Jackson of the
high seas. This gallant Carolinian
carried the Southern banner months
and months after Lee’s surrender. At
last, learning that the war was over,
he set s«il for England. From England
he sailed and to England he woukl re
turn, and there surrendered. Ere it
was furled forever, this may be said to
be the last flap of the stars and bars.
Rob Roy*.
From Birming-ham.
Birmingham Ala
Editor Sunny South: ’ *
We wish to give some exnre^i.
the pleasure it gives us to noteVest£ t0
interest your influential paper is n§
in tie Confederate veteran. andm *
ries and records of the war.’ Your
'entitles you to the sympathy and
support of all true Southern people na
m a u Fraternally yours,
i. A, Hamilton, f. S
J. Morgan Smith, J. Johnson*’
W. Redo, Wm.Berxey
J. A.\V alker, on Gor
don’s staff.
Jas. A. Gaixy,
M. R. Simmons,
W. H. Alexander,
J. C. Kyle,
Eugene F. Enslen,
Sumter Lea,
J- Luxqcest
R. F. Manly
R. E. Evans!
c* , „ Joseph D. Smith
Capt. Jno. G. Smith, John L. ” H '
H. F. Bridwell.
Rixov’
Headquarters n
Southern District of Arkansas
United Confederate Veterans \
Hot Springs, December 20, IS93 j
Editor Sunny South:
Dear Sir: I write to thank you for tho
Christmas number of your entertaining
journal. I will present it with pleasure
to “Albert Pike Camp” of ex-< 'oufeder
ate veterans at this place. 1 know thev
will be gratified to realize that so potent
a voice is raised in honor of their s er .
vices and the memory of their lamented
comrades who have gone to sleep i n the
everlasting bivouac where the survivors
must soon join them.
Four patriotic mementoes grandly
cheer them with the assurance that their
sacrifices were not in vain—that consti
tutional liberty,- for which they fought
will be preserved to their descendants
in a great measure through their devo
tion, and be more and more appreciated
by all the nations through the iLiluence
of their example.
Your obliged servant and gratified old
“vet,” John M. Harrell,
Brig. Gen. Commanding.
Gen. A. P. Stewart.
“I heartily approve and commend to
all who are interested in the men who
wore the gray that feature of your paper,
The Sunny South, which consists in de
voting a page of every issue to ‘empha
sizing the importance of keeping alive in
the Southern heart the emotions of sym
pathy and gratitude due to the Southern
soldier, and of the preservation of histori
cal data.’ ”
Gen. James Longstreet.
Editor Sunny South:
Dear Sir: I most cordially endorse
your movement in the interest of history
and the Southern veterans, and earnestly
hope that your paper will meet with the
substantial support it deserves from the
Southern people.
I commend it to the favorable notice
of my friends. Yours sincerely,
James Longstreet.
The Old Confederates.
The
man lor the Stars
was not dead, but only
He inherited the right to love
The Union is a fixed and permanent
fact, and all sections stand now united
under the flag of Washington. Let a
foreign invader touch our shores, and
Gray and Blue would engage in friendly
strife with each other for the honor of
perishing as Sergeant Jasper did. But
this is no shadow of a reason why those
who gave years, and risked health and
limb and life for the South’s side of the
dreadful combat, should be forgotten if
dead, or neglected it still living,
love of the Southern man for the
and Stripes
sleeping.
it. The most illustrious of the men who
first unfurled it were Southern. An un
ruly son may complain bitterly of the
seventy and injustice of an inflexible
sire, but it does not destroy his affection
lor the home-roof and his brothers and
sisters. In a frenzy of patriotic rage the
Southron assaulted the old flag because
ie believed it to be prostituted to the pur
poses of oppression. Sword in hand he
strove to pull it down. Sword in hand
he met men equally as resolute and
conscientious in its defence. Overborne
by superior numbers, he was not able to
parry indefinitely thrusts from every side
Lpp he S ave up only when his blade had
been severed from the hilt and he was
c-ubbed into insensibility. Furling his
blood-stained banner he came*home, ard
though his sufferings were great-aye
though he died of want-he raised no
wholik/ ?P pea )/ or hel P fr °™ his people,
who like himself were in the dust of
P °I V f e hl y i an H d gnef and disa PP°intment.
W Jk , ret , ur , neti in triumph he would
R ee " 1 ? ad , e[ ! 'villi honors and bene
*as he did™ 8 areinfinitel y greater,
“In the gloom of defeat.”
guardi-in^of^tk 1 peo £ Ie are the natural
frans ' need >’’ Confederate vet-
SoZ,My %T T aged wid ows—Su, my
LADIES
Get your Xmas
HOW ARE YOU
CHINA CLOSETS?
Are the old dishes chipped and cracked, and nnsii!t«J
to setting off a spotless tablecloth. We yjill .
Ish it FREE Whv drink poor teas and coffees aa
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prices. PREMIUMS for all. Dinner, Tea®
Toilet Sets, Banquet and Hanging Lamps, Va '
Clocks. Music Box s, Cook Books, Watch C
CheniUe Table Covers, Cups a"d Saucers, ri.
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for our celebrated Teas. Coffees. Bating 1 owner
Spices. 3^ lbs. fine teas by mall or express
$2.00, Charges paid. .
Beautiful Pan- i, emUisd “ Faby s First
mat ” (s'ze. 14x2? Inches- FREt- to all P atr ^' .a.
full parti-ufare, r.-ices, terms and PremiumU-
dress THE GREAT AMEHIC \ V T ! A OOMPAXm
P. O. Box 280. 31 <fc 33 Vcs=y Street, >• »■
ad-
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SURELY CURED.
To the Editor—Please inform your read
ers that I have a positive remedy for tie
above named disease. By its timely usa
thousands of hopeless eases have been per*
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two bottles of my remedy free to any of yo^j
readers who have consumption if they will
send me their express and post office address.
T. A. Slocum, M.G., 183PearlSt., New York
HIGH
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ICMMil
HEADS
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|S LI Mustache, So P*- T '
DANDRUFF CURf * 3 * 5 * ’
CALL OR WRI tE
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H.ioii, Masonic Temp 16
CHICAGO.