St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 21, Number 45, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 30 May 1896 — Page 2

OUR SOLDIER BOYS. I. Reverence still those brave defenders, honor to the sleepers brave; Cover with flagrant flowers, adorning each lone, hallow’d soldier’s grave; Fearless they In time of battle, conquerors on the gory field. True to God, and home and country, freedom’s flag to ever shield. Naught can dim the lasting glory of the hero’s deathless name, For upon his proud escutcheon resteth not the brand of shame. Mighty is the army sleeping In Its lasting, long repose, Reverenced still with admiration, e'er alike by friends and foes. n. Still in fond retrospection I see ranks go filing by, As upon the breeze afloating comes the loud triumphant cry Os the conquerors home returning, with a firm and martial tread. Victory perched upon their banner as it proudly floats o’erhead; As In long and dim procession they pass by in grand review, Soldier boys—our noble heroes—wearing still the loyal blue. Hail! ye fearless sons of freedom; still in memory ye shall be Dear to all, with reverence honored in the blest laud of the free. The Phantom Army. And I saw a phantom army come, ! With never a sound of fife or drum. But keeping step to a muffled hum Os wailing lamentation; The martyred heroes of Malvern Hill. Os Gettysburg and Chancellorsvllle— The men whose wasted bodies fill The patriot graves of the nation. And there came the unknown dead, the men Who died in fever swamp and fen. The slowly starved of prison pen; And, inarching beside the others, Came the dusky .martyrs of Pillow’s fight. With limbs enfranchised and bearing bright, 1 thought—'twas the pale moonlight— They looked as white as their brothers. And so all night marched the nation's dead, With never a banner above them spread, No sign, save the bare, uncovered head Os their silent grim Reviewer; With never an arch but the vaulted sky, With not a flower save those which lie On distant graves, for love could buy No gift that was purer or truer. 80 all night long moved the strange array; So all night long, till the break of day, I watched for one who had passed away With a reverent awe and wonder; .Till a blue cap waved in the lengthening line, And I knew that one who was kin of mine Had come, and I spoke and, lo! that sign Wakened mo from my slumber. —Bret Harte. THE LIEUTENANT’S ROMANCE.

N the midst of the battle of the Wilderness, May 5, ’6l, while the roar of musketry ebbed and flowed all along the line, and hundreds of bleeding soldiers lay gasping under the tangled undergrowth which extended for miles along what was known as the Plank road —in the midst

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of this confusion and uproar, the company of which I had assumed command after my captain’s death was ordered to change its position from the spot near the road where it had been fighting for an hour to a point half a mile away. We obeyed with military precision, and when we reached our new point of vantage halted near the roadside for a rest. As we did so I heard from a thicket near by what seemed a groan from some one in pain. I determined to learn the cause. Thirty or forty steps from the road, in a perfect tangle of brush and vines. I espied a blue uniform on the ground. Approaching nearer, I discovered a Federal soldier lying face downwards, apparently dead. Pulling aside the brush, 1 knelt and turned the body over as gently as I could, to ascertain if life was extinct. With a groan and a shudder his eyes opened, while his lips moved as if to speak, but no sound came from them. Raising his head slightly, I placed my canteen to his lips, and in a few moments he seemed much revived. “What regiment?” 1 asked. In a weak voice he replied, “Fifth New York Cavalry,” which was confirmed by the brass letters on his forage cap lying near. Hardened as I was by scenes of blood end suffering, my sympathies were deeply aroused as I looked in the face of the young soldier, for he seemed not more than 20 years of age—a mere boy. though taking a man’s place under man's most trying circumstances; a fair, frank, blueeyed boy, dying, perhaps, far from home or friends. “How are you hurt?” I asked. Pointing to his hip, a slight rent and a i A&Jmv'v f? IL7 I A FEDERAL SOLDIER LYING FACE DOWNWARD. blood spot or two told the story. Placing him in as easy a posture as possible, I left him for a short time to rejoin my company. Finding everything quiet, I called one of the men, and together we returned to the wounded you tn. With our pocket knives we cut away the brush and tangle for some twenty feet around him, and carefully swept up the leaves and rubbish, ns fire was raging in the woods not far away. We then built a slight shelter of green branches above his head for protection from tht sun, filled his canteen from the creek near by, and divided our rations of bacon and bread with him. He seemed very grateful; offered his watch in return

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for our services, which I placed in his pocket again, and, bidding him good-bye. promised to see him again, and went back to my company. For many hours more the conflict raged and when the smoke and din had passed away, thoughts of the wounded boy in blue never again crossed my mind. *♦♦***• Several months had passed since the incident noted above, and I was a prisoner of war. I had been captured at Hanover Court House and was hurried off to Elmira to meditate over the uncertainties of soldier life. Arrived there I found existence almost intolerably monotonous. Discipline was strict and *he only relief we had was when, on certain fixed days, visitors were permitted to come and gaze upon us. Many came as a matter of curiosity, others to bring us food and bits of clothing. One day a lady, accompanied by a very SMI Hl TIBI "Z .Ns . Lt r: i>; T'W ■ ',< t r < ’ I ' J k :,d\ i । XiHM ■ i 1-| । lOe II i £ I . I SURRENDERED MY PERMIT AND WAS FREE. pretty girl, passed oy me and incidentally inquired what State I came from. Being civilly answered, the elder of the two asked if I needed anything for my personal comfort. I forced a lie from my lips and replied that I needed nothing. My name and regiment were asked for and they passed on with some pleasant words. Several days later the same couple appeared and greeted me cordially. After a pleasant chat they departed, the younger of the . two placing in my hand a small copy of the New Testament. Opening it to see whose name I should find, I was surprised to see, written on the fly-leaf, in a delicate feminine hand: “Would you place yourself in the hands of a friend and assume the attendant risks? If so, tie a bit of white cord to the bottom button of your coat when we come next week. Confide in no one else and destroy this.” Instantly I tore out the fly-leaf and chewed it into pulp. There was no sleep for my eyes that night. What did it moan? Who and what were these people who thus interested themselves in me? And why? Was it a trap? No, surely these two women couldn’t entertain such a thought toward a poor devil of a prisoner. These and a thousand similar ideas occupied my mind all through the night, and when the reveille sounded I had decided to trust them. Within a week they, came again. My bit of white ribbon was displayed and tvhen my angel approached she put into my hands a religious tract and, with a most indifferent look, passed on. I held the tract carelessly for some moments and then placed it in. my breast pocket. When I found myself alone I opened it tremblingly. On a blank page, pinned inside, was written: “Two weeks from this date a woman with a red-bordered handkerchief in her belt, will give you a thin linen coat and vest. Carry them to your quarters, conceal them, and return immediately. An old man, with gold eyeglasses, will give you pants, shoes and collar. Do likewise with these and return. We will give you a hat, in the lining of which will be found a permit, signed by the commandant, allowing William J. Pool, of Syracuse, to visit the prisoners. As soon as possible, put on your new suit and walk quietly to the exit, surrendering your permit to the guard. When outside, walk slowly, straight away from the prison for 200 paces, when a young man will meet you. Trust yourself to him, and confide in no one else. Should anything transpire endangering you or us cut the two bottom buttons from your coat.” i Having thoroughly memorized my instructions, they were likewise chewed up, and I began to have visions of freedom,

conspicuous among them being the picture of the fairy who was taking this hazard on my account. The days went by as months do now ami nervously, anxiously, I waited tor the fatal day. I was fearful lest some one should read my thoughts, and I not only endanger myself, but bring my fair benefactress to grief. At last the day arrived and with the numbers of visitors entering the prison came the woman with the redbordered handkerchief. She carried several goodly sized packages of what ap peared to be food and distributed them indiscriminately. As 1 approached, she gave me a thin, hard-pressed bundle, which I placed in my pocket, and, shortly going to my quarters, hid it under a small wooden box which served the purpose of a seat, and immediately returned to the crowd of visitors. 1 waited only a short ; , time for my old man. There he was, giv- j ing out tracts and Testaments, with a package or two in his pockets. As I drew near him. he placed one of the packages in my hands, with a benedictioijj and. having lingered a short timu, th's was placed tinder the box with its conlpnnHtpA tedious half hour passe l before I mw my two angels. Coming near, the young lady said to me: “il re s a Yankee hat from a Yankee girl. Will a rebel accept it?” “No, miss,” I replied, “but a Southern gentleman will,” and, suiting the ac- . lion to the word, I placed it on my head, and she unconcernedly went her way, handing a pair of half hose to one, a handkerchief to another, until I lost sight of her. A little hr>4 I was ia my quar- j ters, trembling all over. Should I try the 1 risky experiment now, or later? “Now or j never,” I thought, in desperation, and j donned my now attire. Dressed ns a citizen, I paused a mo- ! meat to collect myself, and stepped forth for fre bun. As I walked across the grounds, my heart boat $o loudly that I feared others would hear it. On I walked, mingling with the visitors, no one seeming to notice me. As I neared the . gate, Walter W hite, one of my fellow prisoners, recognized mo. He was in the act of speaking when I drew my knife j from my pocket, and, speaking loud > enough for the guard to hear me, said: ■•Here, reb, take this to cut your beef • with,” adding in a whisper, “For God’s sake, say nothing.” He understood in- . stantly. Passing slowly through the exit, I surrendered my permit and was free. Following instructions carefully. I found a young man waiting for me. With- ' out a word he took my arm and we walk- i cd away from the prison as if we had been j friends for life. Finally my companion : spoke. He told me his name was Harry ’ Chauncey; the two ladies who first met , me were his mother and sister; the woman with the red-bordered handkerchief was I^s W# J : leu- 4 I , W ; ■' 1 j w W ii / a! /a & A ( I \ ITE SPRANG FORWARD, THROWING HIS ARMS ABOUT ME. his aunt and the old gentleman with the 1 tracts his father. Thus the whole family 1 had been enlisted in securing my freedom. 1 Why this kindness had been shown me, 1 this dangerous risk undertaken in my behalf, he would not say. All that he could ’ tell me now was that I was to be taken to i his father’s residence and secreted in a < den in the attic, where I would be free - from danger should the prison officials undertake to search for me. 1 This program was carried out to the < letter, I still wondering what it meant < and wishing that I might catch a glimpse ; of my angel, whom I had not seen on en- 1 tering the house. In this den for four ’ or five days I was kept a close prisoner. ' Young Chauncey was most attentive to 1 me, visiting me several times daily, but no one else was admitted except Chaun- ‘

coy. pore, who visited me twice. The old gentleman was kindness itself, assuring me that he would gladly do all in his power until such a time as 1 wished to re turn South. Both informed mo that no effort had been made by the prison officials to capture me. One evening Avery crawled into my den and said: “The ladies are expecting you in the parlor this evening, and we think there will be no risk.” I was rejoiced at this, for my confinement was growing irksome and I longed for the time when I might see my fair deliverer and thank her and the others for their great kindne-s. the ren-m for whit h I also longed to learn. When we descended to the parlor, the entire family were assembl'd, Mrs. Chauncey, Miss Sarah Chauncey, the aunt, ami Miss Esther, my angel, to each of whom 1 was duly introduced. A general conversation followed. I was too deeply interested in Mi«s Esther to permit an opportunity for engaging in conversation with her alone to pass by, and when this opportunity presented itself I seize I it rap: urously. During our conversation I broached the subject of my release and inquired what had brought it about. She hesitate I a moment, her face flushing, and then she spoke: "Last spring brother Avery was badly wounded down in Virginia. A rebel -I mean a Confederate-ollieer was very good to him. giving him food and water, and protecting him from a fire which would soon have burned him to death. When Ite was able to move we brought him home, and he often sai l that when he recovered he would return the kindness to some Southerner. He has never regained his strength sufficiently to return to the army, so he decide 1 to pay his debt by releasing one of the prisoners, all of us promising to help him. The selection of the victim was left to me, and I thought you—you b oked nice, and 1 felt more sorry for you than any of the others, and I did not permit her to finish. A light flashed through my mind at that instant and I turned to Avery, who had just returned after a temporary absence from the room, and said: “Were yon ever in Virginia?” “Yes, and I carry very undesirable proof of the fact in my hip now.” “Got it at the Wilderness, I guess?” “Yes, sister told you, I suppose.” “Fifth New York Cavalry, I imagine?” “Yes.” “Lay in the bushes and came near being burned?" "Yes.” “Fellow came along and fixed you up in some sort of wav?” "Yes.” “Brought you some water and left a mouthful of rations, and took your watch for pay?” “No, I gave it to him, and he refused it.” “Would you know the fellow again if you met him?” Gazing at mo for a moment, he sprang forward, throwing his arms about me ami saying: “Well! well! well you are the very man, old fellow! Since the first time I saw you I had a notion I had seen you somewhere. What a fool I was not to have known yon!” No need to tell the rest. Tn the weeks that followed Esther listened and her eyes gave me my answer when I whispered words of love. Thirty years ago she became my bride, and the union of blue and gray has been a blessed one.—Blue and Gray Magazine. BRAVE, BUT SHOT AS A COWARD An Incident that Had Many Duplicates in Military Life. There was a solemn stillness resting over Hill s Corps of Lee’s army, encamped along the Rapidun when the sun rose on a beautiful morning in the early spring of ’64. The most sorrowful scene of army life was about to be enacted—two deserters were to be shot by their former comrades. Desertions had become too numerous and now that these two fellows who had escaped, one from a North Carolina, the other from a Georgia regiment, were recaptured, they were to be summarily dealt with. The two brigades were marched out to witness the execution, and were arranged in the shape of a half circle, on two hills. The stakes were driven in the valley between. The men were called to “attention,” as the band of music, from the Thirteenth North Carolina Regiment, was heard playing in the distance the “Dead March.” The music, with drums i

muffled, was in front, and then a platoon of armed soldiers marching in rear of the deserters. The North Carolinian had his head down, but the Georgian was erect, kept a firm step to the music, and peered fearlessly into the men’s faces as he passed by. He was a Handsome fellow, well set, of round and ruddy face, and black hair and eyes. When they reached the stakes the North Carolinian fell down with his face in his hands, and remained in that position. No so the Georgian; he showed not the least fear. The chaplain Hr W nt.OU EsTED THEM NOT TO TIE HIM. prayed over them, and then they were asked if they had anything to say. The Georgian stood up, asked permission to I pull off his overcoat, and then said sub- ■ stantially as follows; i | “I want to say that my sentence is a just one. I did wrong to leave my colors, ami L want all you soldiers to take warni ing at my fate. The only thing that I re- ; gret is that it will bring my old father’s gray hairs to the grave in disgrace, but I । want you, sir (to the chaplain), to write to my wife and tell her that I died like a ; brave man and a soldier.” He then asked for a drink of water, and his captain, leaving the company to go ■ to him, handed him a canteen. After , drinking and returning the canteen, he reqm -ted the ollie -r in charge of the details not to tie him or bandage his eyes; he wanted to look in the guns and die with- • out flinching. Thus he died without a i quiver; the bravest man those soldiers ever saw die, and he was shot to death for cowardice! At one of the battles in Inee's ; Gettysburg campaigns he had forged a surgeon’s certificate, and kept out of the fight on the score of sickness. He had been a gallant soldier all before this, and ’ wore honorable scars on his person. But in a moment when that dread so fatal to - the soldier came over him, he had faltered and his life and disgrace paid the penalty. Officers and men all felt sorry > for him; they knew he was brave, but military laws are inexorable. ■ / f J r 4■ ■ . M ; / W®, Ji With all the fifes awailin’ an’ a roar o’ muffled drums, ’ A‘s Vjßered flags a-flutterin’ on high, i A-windln slowly down the road, the long I procession comes, While me an’ Lucy watch ’em marchin’ by. V\ ith. heads erect the veterans step, though mem’ry’s tears may flow. An’ bearded lips may tremble Jos’ a bit. They do not mourn their dead alone—their woe’s a common woe ( They know, an’ are rejoicin' over it. They’s wagon loads o' flowers sheddin’ sweetn - "verywhere. An’ Lucy sniffs their fragrance eagerly. An' gray, disabled soldier chaps a-hobblin' here an' there, But jes’ ez proud an’ spunky ez can be. An’ lots o’ little fallers trampin’ by their fathers’- side, Ez peart ez though they’d fought in ’GI— An’ so they pass until the dust the ragged banners hide An’ faint an’ fainter sound the fife an' drum. Au’ then we turn an’ start fer home across the fields, while I Jos' have to gulp somehow an awful lot. An’ Lucy's sort o' gaspin' like she's goiu’ to start to cry. An’ I ain't carin’ if she does or not. Then as we reach the house there comes borne on the balmy b»?eze A rumble from the distant buryin' ground; Three times we hear the volleys, then there’s 1 silence ’cept the bees An’ other bugs a-buzzin’ all around. T. L. 3.

STORM'S DIRE WRK A Cyclone Devastates Three States. DEATH IN ITS AV AKE. lowa, Illinois, and Michigan the SufTerers. The Death Roll Will Pass the Hundreds, and Hundreds More Are Injured—Terrific Downpour of Water in Several Instances Coinpletee the Destruction Which the Wind Began —Damage to Farm Property Is Literally Inconceivable—Several Towns Arc Wiped Off the Earth. A most fearful storm originated Sunday night, a little northeast of Dos Moines, lowa. Traveling almost due east, it devastated portions of that State, Illinois ami by Monday evening had reached the eastern boundary of Michigan, culminating in Macomb County. In lowa it raged most fiercely in Polk and Jasper Counties, killing twenty-seven persons, fatally injuring three, seriously injuring nineteen and demolishing a large part of live towns —Valeria, Bondurant, Santiago, Mingo ami Ira. The country between the towns was devastated ami the crops utterly ruined. .All the stock in the path of the storm was destroyed. In Bondurant five were killed; in Santiago, two; in Valeria, seven; near Mingo, four; and in the intervening country between Mingo ami Lia, nine. Eighteen wore injured”, sev. ral fatally. Besides the loss of of life the damage to farm buildings, fences ami live stock is fully $1,000,000. Drowned in the Flood. In eastern lowa, a terrific downpour of water occurred, doing greatest damage at Dubuque and Durango. At the latter place, the depot was carried by the flood a mile and a half, ami Mrs. Clark, station agent, four children, Engineer Griffin, J. Dillon ami I*. Moss were drowned. The combined fury of wind” and water wiped out the family of iohn Maloney near Postville, numbering six, ami near North McGregor fifteen bodies, unrecognizable, were found. Miles of railroad track, several depots ami eighteen bridges were swept away. Delaware County escaped with larg • property damage only. Effect in Illinois. Passing into Illinois, the first effects were felt at Elgin. Engineer Keough, of the asylum, was kille l. The bicycle factory was demolished, loss over A wide farming territory was devastated, ami railroad pre.wrty suffered greatly. Near Rockford four wore killed. In Chicago ami suburban towns, scores of rosideu«?es were utterly demolished; miles of street paving washed away; hun-di-1 Is of bus meats filled with goods floode 1, .and over two hundrofl people injured. .Strange to ^ay, not a fatalify was reported, though the ruin of many dwellings was so instant and complete that escape of many from death seems miraculous. Everything in the path of the storm was level'- 1. The suburbs suffering most were Norwood Park, Niles, Niles Center, Edison Park. Irving Park ami RavenswoixL Churches, trees and dwellings were razed. One Hundred Die in Michigan. Leaving Chicago, the next report of damage came from Ortonville, Oakland County, Mich. Seventeen lives were reported lost and a half-hundred persons injured, while the town is practically wiped out of existence. From Oakwood, northeast of Ortonville, word was received that eight had been killed. ^The villages directly in the line of the storm were Thayer, Groveland, Austin, Brandon, Seymour ami Davisburg. A message from Clarkston late Monday night said that there had been a large loss of life there, and that Davisburg, Clarkston ami Springfield had also a large list of killed and injured. Mount Clemens Escapes. Mount Clemens, in Macomb County, was given a bad scare, and while much property damage was done and a few injured, yet no loss of life resulted. Thirty houses were blown down. The path cut by the cyclone from Oakland and Metamora on the northwest through Thomas, Orion, Goodison, Washington, Disco and the country located between is filled with populous towns and it is feared that many of them have been wiped off the map. It seems that the list of dead ami injured would pass JOO, and no estimate can be given as to the property damaged. , Ftorin Was a Twister. — Actual details of the devastation caused l>y the cyclone were meager, but all of the witnesses agree that the storm was a regular AVestern twister. Its first appearance at Thomas station was from the southwest in the form of a densely Lhtqk tunnel-shaped cloud, moving with almost incredible swiftness and seeming to Eikd long leaps. It seemed to have the elasticity of a gigantic rubber ball, and” would strike the ground. th*J, leaving a footprint of devastation, bound into the air ami travel a mile or more before again touching the earth. - Beyond Macomb County the storm was lost somewhere in the Canadas. Aged Goli Champion. Lord Rutherford Clark, who is over 70 years of age and a judge of the Scotch Court of Session, has won the first prize in the golf competitions at Canaea twice running. Profits cf a Steamship Line. The Cunard company's profits for the year just closed were toO.OoO (s2soj>oo) more than for the previous year. Chance for Doctors. Eight hundred thousand francs, SIOO.000, have been given to the Paris Academy of Medicine by a Mme. Andriffred, the income to be paid yearly to the man that discovers a specific for consumption, whether a Frenchman or a foreigner. It Is definitely stated that Lord Dufferin, the British ambassador to France, will retire from diplomatic life about the middle of July.