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THE f
CAMESVILl a Vi TRIBUNE | >
ESTABLISHED 1875
An
^ ---- -THAT WILL-
DOUbLE IN 12 MONTHS,
-PAYING DIVIIjIM s AI11L I > 1 C l r j< ]
^7-STOCK OF THE CEORA-ALABAMA—
UNVISTMENTlI&llDEVLOPMENtlGOMPANYl
CAPITAL STOCK,JS4,500,000. SHARES,’tlO each full Jpa.d up and
subject to no assessments.
&Z ?*MEs F i -casure
a DIRECTORS.--
t m
G n TIcn.F. Butler, of Massachus 3 tt 3
,
Hon. Logan II. Hoots, of Arkansas,
Hon. A. U. Wyman, Ex-Treasnerer U. S., of Nebraska,
Hon Jas. W Hyatt,’ i u ‘ “ of Connecticut!,
Thos. C Smith, President 17 th W.r<l Bar.Ir, Brooklyn,"New York,
L. M. Santord, Pres, Bank of New Castle,of Kentucky,
, JC, L. Gab^eM Sec^.Thomson -Houston E’cctric Light Co. Bos'ot,
QrW. rfrkinfc, Cash Mass. Nat’l Bank, Boston, Mass. 1
^ ‘“‘Geo. C. bcliofield, Pres. N, Y.JContract Club of New^York.’
AHVlSOR^ ’ BOARD.-
Hob J%h. B. Gordon, l&xtGovernor ofJJG a.
H^. Robert L. Taylor; Gbv%rnor ov Tenn.
IIon.T^chard Hon*JJB Foraker, Px-Govqrtior ol Ohio.
II. Briglit? Ex-lii. S. P Master of Wa-hicgton, D. C
IIon/K. p* Mann,Supt. COTiQord Montreal Railroad,of New llamoshire
' P R. Tru^Cai^ier [J. S. Treasury, Washington, D. C.
V Henry Feuohtwangcr, Member N. Y Stock Exchange, NewJYork
P. K. Roo v s, Cashier First National Rtoftk, Little Rock Arkansas.
F. Y. Robertson, President First National Lstok, Kerney, Nebraska.
SUFFOLK TRUST CO. Trrnsfer^cnts
- 244 WASHINGTON STREET, 1 BOSTON,' M A SS.----
• \
1
T ——THE-
Property of the Company
Consists of
FIRST—8,000 City lots 2,04'2 acrospof land in the city ■ Q k -mu i n 11a
or
poosa, Haralson County, Georgia, the residue remaining u sold o’
p 2,500 acres, on the center ot which/the ett-v was originally %iltt
‘
Present value $1,084,765. the city . o* ,
IECOND—2,450 acres of variable mineral land, adjacent iron, to thcco.re of
Tallapoosa, ail located TriUu. » radiua of six m.l.s
the city. Present N alne . 7,,. .
TUI D—Tbc lMned copitiil stock of the Georgia, 1. ennessec ’ ■ ■
j^ Railroad oompauy, chartered tor the puipose of building a laibca’
from Tallapoosa, Ga, to Stevenson, Ala., 120 miles, that v ’t.l net
thexompany nearly $2,000,000 of the capital stock bf raitro id pay-
ini? 7 per emit dividends. Pacific
FOURTH—-Tlis Tallapoosa Fumacc. 00 the line, of the Georgia
railroad, in tlie city ot Talapoosa, Ga., the said tuniaoe being of 50
ton capacity , minwfaclnrtoathe lughcat graflo «f «U4 ,mi hot orast
charcoal oar weeel non. 1 ionp • ,\ai.ie
F1FTH—The Piedmont Gtass W01 situated on tuelinc o ‘ p ■ ■
Pacific railroad in thoeity of Talapoosa, Ga., taid fm nat- ^oei y ig
gta capacity apd manufacturing flint gla^s ntsksaix
twelve pot f,uruaco
prescription vlare», Present value $100,000*
There is already property of this company • . •*
located on the ‘ •' ' M
Tall&poofth, Ga., 2.800 inhabitants, 2,000 ot whom are northern pcopie
who have seUled iu Tallapoosa with ; n the last three years, 82 h msestlo
manufacturing industries ana 40 busiuess houses, schools, cburcli >s,wajtc.!
works, electric lights,$75,000 hotel and new manufacturing industries, etc
-50.000 S HARES THE A SU BY STOCK—
Are now offered to the public, the proceeds to be de A>ted to seating
n*w manufacturing establishments and developing tht eompanv 5 city
property at a SPECIAL PRICE of
V*’ A3 SHARE
1-3 Per
Thi» stock is f'all paid and subject to no assessment. It wm pay divi-
te*di April and Ocehbeu. and the price will be advanoed^to *5.->0 per
•hare when the 50,000 shares are sold.
OrdfJS le* wiI1 be filled as jecefved, in any amount srom one
•hare upward, as it is desired to have as inanp smali holders in all sec¬
tion* of the country as possible, who will, by their interest in tae com-
pany influence immigration to Tallapoosa and id.wanee the interests of
the company.
t 10,00 will purchase 3 shares or § 30,00 par value of"’stoek
80,00 r 9 “ 90*00 “
50.00 r 15 <« 150,00 it
100,00 r 30 f 300,00 a
250,00 V 75 tt 750,00 tt
500,00 •t 150 tt 1,500.00 tt
1 , 000.00 u : 300 3,000 00 tt
Address all ouders for stoek anp make edieeks, drafts or money and ex¬
press orders payable to
Jas. W, HYATT, Treas •3
6a.-Ala. Investment and Development Co • !
4
Globe Bulliing, 244 Washington Street, B >stbn,' Mats.
CPrdO page illustrated prospectus of Talapooso, stock prospectvs o j
tompaev and plat of city with price list of building lots mailed free on
pplioatio'n. xmn*. Reliable agents wanted to represent the company in every
CABHESVILLE, F RANKLIN COUNTY, GA., WEDNESDAY. APRIL 22,1891.
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SENTENCED TO DEATH
E V E R
A vliat my business
._ g „ or how-I was be-
IjpISffiV , jr>). trayed gathered and how in. I
was
Enough that they
klty agged me ISO
miles inside the
enemy’s lines and
hustled me off to
prison at Fort Me-
Henry, in Baltimore harbor, where I was
confronted with the charge of being a
spy. No matter that I had on when
captured my full uniform ak a captain.
No matter tiiat at my court-martial trial
their own officer who captured mo testi-
j fled that lie did not take rue as a spy,
that there was no work for a tpy where
| tie captured ine.
i No matter; i was found guilty, and
I hanged ‘’ a:J v *'"- s the parade to mo, “To bo
as a spy on ground of
Port McHenry between the hours of 12
m. and 3 o’clock p. m.„ Nov. 3,1863.”
In anewvrto my requestthat ifthey
must loll me, for the sake of honor to
S
“Tobo shot to death with musketry, on
the SoS^ow, p^ade ground,* etc.
I suppose I did nob fully
CO mprAh^d cr adequately appreciate
m y slsnution. for I did not feel then,
any mora&han I do now, that death was
to be in* next deal. Nor had I at nil
con _nc temped that result, all through the
.
merriment by asking piiscdiegf or irrele-
vant questions, of the juv'O* ^’vacate,
jokes (hiringthe recesses’ «?f the
c cmu, in diver# manners creating fan
draw mirth for myself out of that barren
rock, “military justice.” Only the dW
before, tha president of tho court mai^
tini. the colonel of the.regiment,
of whose officers composed my adjuui-
cators, asked to talk a little with me.
“Of course.”
‘Captain,” said he, “I greatly fear you
do not appreciate your situation.”
“W ell, colonel, I know of no man
favorably situated to realize it. Why
you say so?” ’
“Because, sir, your life is at stake iffi
tb A?m-' ^ elL ~
“Well, you’ll be found guilty, most
assuredly, of the charge.” V
“Well?”
‘You’ll bo sentenced to die.”
“Well?”
“And you'll be hanged or shot! - And
here you have been spending the 3 asure
hours of the court trying you for in
frivolous jesting and mirth. 4 w a fel¬
low man, it grieves me to see you^o -care¬
lessly playing at so terrible a rink as
you stand on.”
“Colonel,” was the reply, “I bank you
for your interest. If we aj* national
enemies, you speak as a ma;« and as a
soldier. But let me say this’ (now I can¬
not explain what induced i^e to make
the following foolish, bra; ;art speech,
but it bubbled up and was^poken), “col¬
onel, you or I may die be- ra night; we
do not know; but in so t ^ as tha result
of your court’s finding Ns concerned, I
will be alive when you ad your twelve
officers are dead and ffivgotten!”
He left me in dismast?—and I don’t
blame him.
But such was my feeling. I did not
“feel it in my bone''" as the slang goes,
that death was so ear.
That colonel rod the entire twelve
composing the j^/urt died before I was
exchanged—“shp to death” in one
charge at C-old \ larbcrr. I live to write
the occurrenc, twentyffive years after
the conversa*^ m.
It may or'siay not be true that when
..v"'
| the grim monster singles out his victim
; he sends him, some way, a spiritual pre-
monition that he is going to let fly from
death’s quiver the fatal dart. Be that
asitmay—I had no premonition of death.
Not when they stood me up to hear
my sentence and to answ^p, nor after-
ward in the cool cSutemplation my iso-
j j lution and the silent dungeon afforded; not
when officer of the day, on that
I eventful execution morning, read to me
l in my dungeon theelay’sp*®g*«mmo and
delineated iny doom at the hands of
twelve detailed soldiers. He found me
whistling as I paced my narrow cell that
morning, and exclaimed in surprise:
“Good God, captain! what'land of a
man aro your'
“Oh, 1 don’t know; skin and bone,
flesh and sinews, blood and bile. Why?”
“Why! Don’t you know you are to be
shot today? Outside hero are the twelve
men detailed to send you into eternity.
You'll never sea another morning! And
here yon are—whistling!”
“Yroll, why not whistle as long as pos¬
sible, and cry when you cannot laugh?”
Hence, I may not be able to tell just
how a man.feel3 who stares death calmly
in the face, for may be I did not so com¬
prehend my situation.
But 1 was sentenced to death, that 1
fully comprehended when they marched
me, handcuffed, between two guards
with arms at “charge” and bayonets
fixed, back to the prison; and, instead of
to my former 12 by 12 cell, barred and
bolted me in an underground, dark, dank
dungeon, 3 by 10 feet, with a tub occu¬
pying two feet of that sparse space, sig¬
nificantly suggestive that I wa 3 to stay
right there until the day and hour.
•The sentence was fully realized during
the sunless days and no darker nights of
the weeks that; followed.
Daylight! Good God, man! yoa do
not appreciate what a ray of glad,
sunlight is until shut iu from all that
makes day beautiful,
r Oh, yes; I comprehended, slightly, that
, mine was no trifling sentence as I
i 1 t
S*w \^3f 4 SVig/gJ'p H|l I? ,cl v V>,
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j f iSSpiKasB- TfiBrffHL ——
1 ( “ Ljf I » '&r Il'-jSllM In" Ifi
fig \4 M
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whfnt r ATxrr-PFn
* .h *
, ^ "-^ darkness, , waiting . .
+-Yi 'r-?T n 11 Pupils enabled me to sc-e im-
v> iat v ' 35 tae c - ara pnes3 that 1
.ouched.
Fina.ly, hower er, I was permitted to
send cut and buy a lamp and to keep it j
ligated. Ine wads had been repeatedly ,
'Vtaimwasae.l, bn«. tae an mid Mth oozing ,
t arougn the bncss had pushed it off m\
•j.jeolor -u figures, ino floor was stone;
a soi l or cemented mass that at once
negatived, any Morgamc idea of “aig-
gmg cru. Away up yonder, ten or
twelve feet away, was the arched brick
ceiling, too, whose under sweaty sod. Slimy surface snails told and it j
1 was asmdlegs arew them clammy ways j
acr '?the moist walk and floor; vermin!
ton .1 and fed upon tne noxious dirt—
damp; the disgusted rat-s that crept in
at t :e grated door darteu bacK to find a
more yielding substance for their bur¬
rowing teeth. ,
But the dampness, and the darkness,
and the dirt were but grains of dust
compared to the unutterable sepulcher.; loneliness (
that ~ grew upon tne_in that
Not a human soul—not oven a brute, ex¬
cept the scampering rats—to break the
heavy stillness of that murky tomb! Out
yonder, somewhere, I knew was a grim
sentry, for I heard the measured tread of
the relief a3 they left him on his lonely
post. But I never saw or heard him.
Twice a day, grimly silent, came the
cook’s detail with my barrack soup or
coffee. But ho was mute, under strict
ordei-3 not to speak or signal to the pris¬
oner, as his bakerlika shovel reached in
my wursel of tainted food.
Perdition! how I strove to make him
speak! If he only would curse mo, abuse
me, anything; even his profanity would
have sounded as melody iu my solitude.
I never knew what music there was in
tho human voice till in that dungeon
Where it never sounded, and v/hero I
soon grew startled at my own.
The post chaplain’s was the orfiy hu¬
man voice I heard for weeks—and his
only once, for my levity shocked him so
thp,t he gave me up as an irredeemable
reprobate. He offered a prayer for me,
however, 1 courteously kneeling with
him on the stone floor. But he never
came again.
He told me—what my occasionally al¬
lowed letters from my friends had too
plainly informed me—that there was no
hope of escape from the fate that seemed
to them and tho outsi to world to be
staring me in the face. Every possible
effort bad-been made, every available in¬
fluence pressed into service with the
president, and he had positively declined
interfering with the judgment of tho
court martial. The worthy chaplain cor¬
roborated their sad information; said he:
“Captain, you should prepare for death.
for your life ends in a few days.”
Here was food for reflection, surely.
In the prime and vigor of early man¬
hood, my veins thrilling with the bound¬
ing energy of young blood, life just be^
gun, with its plane, schemes and pur-
poses all to work out: a y wife and
two children, with ad C‘ •s of joy
existence with thru give; ambitious
walks all wide before mo awaiting to be
trod; what burning pages yet unread in
the book of life!
In battle the half rea l paragraph of
life is suddenly left with a dash---,
an unseen, unfelt bullet cuts off, without
a thought, the might bo.
But here, alone, in silent darkness the
heavy wonder would come, “So strong
in health and hope of life, is death so
near?”
Life’s reiros pc :% as memory was forced
to the review, presented so much to be
undone, so ranch yet p be done, so much
just begun that should be finished.
Is it possible—is it true—this hale,
hearty, healthy body so soon to feed the
worms? Are these lithe limbs to walk
out in funeral pageant, my own funeral!
Quick, active, firm as the soldiers who
march with me. Am I to march out
^th them, and they back without me?
To go forth from this dark, living tomb
^o give my longing eyes one quaff of sun-
light, and then shut them forever in the
eternal darkness of death’s re: ! grave?
^ 1 to die? Toquit? To 1 mo more?
Talked of a day cr week and then for-
g 0 tten? Is it I who am to le a at those
twelve soldiers in silent rank t Ivc r aces
mv front? To- hear the « /tnmand,
»Eeady-aim-firc!" fi and hear :he death
messa e . fec , t i e ath’s bullet nd know
death, all in cno bri f instant—and then
foreTcr no more?
For the nfe cf me x coul : aot say,
„ Y it is L >* I had no sue : feeling,
and why I cannot tell,
I knew the law military—’ ■ v
was frarnd (uiiitv us cr\v rn :£
that of the pardoning prerog
chief executive could avert d k.
i Knew all naa been c on .jy . y l.iends .
that comd be done, and withe t avail.
Still, I could not think I w^j to die so
!5* 2eseat‘j*5B* ! ~' ■“
argsings came to me daily, as the time
drew near appointed for my- execution.
Finally it came. Shall I ever forget
that November morning in ’63?
They had told mo I would be taken out
at 9 o’clock in the morning, would be al¬
lowed an officer’s room in tho barracks,
where my parents, sisters and brothers
would meet me and spend. my last few
hours with me.
When taken out they had to seat me
iu tho outer guard room a quarter of an
hour, until my eyes liecame accustomed
to tho piercing glare of sunshine.
Then they took me to the room where
I found father, mother, sisters, brothers
and a minister. It was the quarters of
an officer of the post, and very comfort¬
ably furnished.
Just outside — wo could see them
through the window—stood a special de¬
tail of twelve men. selected as tho un¬
willing executors of tho sentenced man.
Telling mo 1 should have until tho last
minute before 3 o'clock, but then would
have to go, the colonel locked the door
and left me with my friends.
The:; had secured tho privilege of
spending these last few hours with me—
1 knew, to comfort r.r.d console, perhaps
t o strengthen me. for the fearful ordeal
through which 1 r!hl to pas#. Cut I had
to comfort and console them.
My father was broken down. It must
be a horrid strain on a father’s feelings
to sit cud look at his son, in the prime of
manhood, ami count oft tho few inter¬
vening minutes of that boy’s remaining
life.
Brothers and sisters could only gaze
at me in speechless misery, appalled by
the gloomy shadow of death that was
then casting around me.
1 had to become consoler, and strained
every nerve, called forth every power to
smile. I would not permit the trembling
man of God to offer prayers, knowing
his words would fall upon those loving
oars as death wails,/as clods falling on
my coffin. I drew them, by everything
interesting that I could think of, to con¬
template anything but my impending
doom.
As I would about succeed tSb little
clock on the mantel would strike, or a
footstep on the stair outside, or some
movement of the garrison, would recall
them with a sigh to tho horrid present.
Tlit little clock on the mantel seemed
tome in these intervals to tick loudly as
the clatter of a mill.
It struck the half hours as well as the
full stroke; and it seemed to me its little
whirr would lyizz and tho tiny hammer
strike every five minutes. Ten! lialf-
past! Eleven! and n half! Twelve! Half!
One!
Heavens! how it ticked off tho seconds,
galloped the minutes and startled our
pained ears with those fleeting half
hours!
We were seated around the room, close
to each other as we could get. Father
o:i one side, mother on the other of me, a
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t
w : ^mA $m
• *’ r : 4 - !
HEADING TIIE ORDER,
hand clasped by each, as the little moni¬
tor on the mantel broke the gathering
stillness with its metal voice crying the
half hour gone!
Just then a step sounded without, a
hand touched tho knob, the key turned
in the leek, the door was thrown open
and the colonel stood looking in upon us.
Instinctively I jumped to my feet, as
father and mother sprang to my side, a
hand each upon my shoulder.
How rapidly thought does its office in
such emergencies!
My first thought was, their dining
hour approaches, and these officers wish
to get through tills unpleasant duty be¬
fore dinner.
For a minute—it seemed eternity, and
that the little clock had ceased to tell
off time—we stood, the colonel and my¬
self, silent, gazing sternly at each other.
He evidently expected me to speak.
But I did not, would r.ot.
At length he slowly drew from his
pocket a 6lip of paper, and saying,
“Captain, I have j a:-® received this tele¬
gram,” read, while we gazed upon him
in strained, listening eagerness:
The ex^crrliaa cf the sentence In tho case of
William F. Gordon ia postponed until
further orders. By order cf
The PussiDEXT.
Not cne of us spoke.
“You can stay with your friends till
3 o'clock. Then y r ou go back to your
cell,” he said, closed the door and left
us hurriedly.
Father drew a long, trembling sigh
and sank slowly to the floor, where
mother had already fallen. Their sup¬
port gone, the sudden, unlooked for lift¬
ing of the cloud of death, the rush of re¬
lief from the horrid nightmare, caused a
quick revulsion of feeling that made me
limp as a rag, weak as a dying babe.
And I, too, sank between my parents.
The minister said something I did not
hear, brothers and sisters knelt around
us, and I heard he preacher pouring out
a prayer of gratitude that the dark
shadow of death had passed by, leaving
the light of life.
My sentence of death was commuted
to imprisonment and labor during the
war.
But it was life!—W. F. Gordon in
Southern Bivouac.
Most of the wars memorable in his-
tory taw terminated with some momtn-
^
S if. fa Confederates xCT’ * * *
; , • ■ . SSed- .
Eirfunond“and the fall ef Hie
SSS may
VOLUME. XVI . —No 14.
SIDE BY SIDE TODAY.
HR Gray and the
Blue. The Blue
ana the Orayl
Bide by fide they***
laarohin* t««l&y,
nLWCT i^K/> Side by rnu\ ft>r
M brothers are taery
fv Mote is the mux
It* thuadortcir
roar
Is heard in a Btrff
fratricidal rw
more;
Peace reigns o'er tlie land—all trouble is o*w«
I Over the craves of the Blue and the Gray
Tho People fresh i tributes o< memory lay;
Men of tho Gray and Men of the Bhm—
Veterans and sons—our safeguard* are you;
Better or braver the world never kxxew.
Men of tho Blue and men of the Gray—
Soldiers who once met In l^netile array— today.
Ono flag, and ono only, tnt~?ires you
O Gray! scatter flowers u’er tho gravo* of the
Blue! Blue!. Cray blossoms
O on tho graves of the
strew!
The hope of the nation is centered in yual
0 Gray! o’er the tomb? of th© Blue drop a twill
O Blue! breathe a prayer for. the ono resting
hero
Who wore tho Gray symbol and died Without
fear!
March on. side by side! March on, hand I;
hand!
Forward! tha starry fla*j gives you command—
You, Blue aud Gray, the soul of the land!
ft
i
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fSt ftMft h
■’rib- I
i
No danger from foes onr country shall roe
So long as it holds in fraternity true
The Blue and the Gray, tho Gray and the Blue,
—Caleb I>unn la Nexv York World.
Gen. A. P. H1U.
iVmbrose Powell Hill was bom rr Cu! •
pepper county, Va., Nov. 9, 1825, and
died at his post in front of Petersburg,
April 2, 1865. Ho lived, therefore, not
quite forty years,only ei vhteen y ears af tet
leaving West Poinf, yet it seems h^rd to
believe his span was so brief when wo
think of his achievements. In Mexico
and elsewhere he served with Ability in
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kj
GEN. A. 1\ HI LI*
the national army; in Virginia he was
in almost every important battle fought
by Gen. Lee, and always with profit to
his commander and honor to himself.
Gen. Leo would gladly have had him
avoid his last venture, but he volun¬
teered it and fell by tha chance shot of a
straggler from the Federals. Ho was
spared the final pang—he did not wit¬
ness the surrender.
Confederate Sarriron.
Where are the survivors of the Con¬
federate armies? Do they constitute
anywhere a distinct class, or do the.
profess sentiments cr cherish hopes dif¬
ferent from those of their fallow citi¬
zens? Assuredly not. They tre found
in every walk of life, doing their duty
like men and enjoying an astonishingly
large percentage of success.
Gen. J. C. Breckinridge.
Maj. Gen. John C. Breckinridge oc¬
cupied a jilace both in civil hfs and that
of war which commands both sympathy
and respect. While every influence of A
sordid or selfish kind wonld have held
him neutral or even hostile to the south,
as soon as all hope of peaceable settle¬
ment was exhausted he boldlv took his
stand with his southern friends and
stood with them to the last. Bora Jan.
21, 1821, he reached the high dignity of
the vice-president’s chair at the age of
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. 0 ra. i. c. EEECnjnOM*.
M. From tho opentag ot 18® tffl
—ssges remained in that post while there xrm A
,,Hrr.i r »n
1868 from his exile he was fast tklng to
Ertr.vt'"''” “ e “ 1 “‘°