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THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
1 
 
 3f (0 
 
 / c 
 
 W1LMER COLLECTIOI 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/fromdusttoashesrOOrumb 
 
f\ I^omagee of t^e Confederacy. 
 
MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 
 TO THE GALLANT DEAD OF THE ALUMNI OF 
 THE V. M. I., 
 
 WHO KEPT THEIR FAITH 
 
 AND 
 
 LAID DOWN THEIR LIVES AS SOLDIERS OF THEIR MOTHER 
 
 STATE, IN THE CONFEDERATE WAR OF 1861-65. 
 
 ALSO, 
 
 TO THOSE WHO FELL IN THEIR CHARGE ON THE 
 MEMORABLE PLAIN OF NEW MARKET, 
 
 The "Boy Soldiers;" 
 
 BEARDLESS YET DAUNTLESS; 
 
 TO THEM WE BEND IN FAITHFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF 
 
 SERVICE, AS GLORIOUS AND UNDYING, AS THOSE 
 
 WHO CLASPED THE SHEEPSKIN, THE SINGLE 
 
 TOKEN OF THEIR ALMA MATER. 
 
4 Dedication. 
 
 We are growing old, and soon the "taps" will be 
 sounded for the last of the classes preceding 1861. 'Tis 
 only a desire to render our homage unto truth, the great 
 Director of Happiness in this world, that we humbly, most 
 humbly present this truthful statement to those who may 
 perchance find these lines. Names may be changed, but 
 behind every line, truth stands ready to prove every as- 
 sertion, and prepared to repel every charge of wrong. 
 
 May a just God, remembering the woes of the con- 
 quered, and the pride of the oppressor, give us and our 
 children a heart to bear our cross, and a memory whereon 
 shall be engraved the eloquent language of Doctor Cave — 
 
 " I am not one of those who, clinging; to the old superstition that the 
 will of heaven is revealed in the immediate results of trial by combat, fancy- 
 ing- that right must always be on the side of might, and speak of Appo- 
 mattox as the judgment of God. 
 
 " I do not forget that a Suwaroff triumphed and a Kosciusko fell ; that 
 a Nero wielded a scepter of empire and a Paul was beheaded; that a Herod 
 was crowned and a Christ crucified; and instead of accepting the defeat of 
 the South as a divine verdict against her, I regard it as but another instance 
 of ' truth on the scaffold and wrong on the throne.'" 
 
 Little Rock, Arkansas, 1895. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Reading one day, the " explano-prefatory " of a book 
 entitled, "In Vinculis," by A. M. Keiley, a Virginia Con- 
 federate, I saw these words: Through books, newspa- 
 pers, magazines, military commissions, congressional leg- 
 islation, proclamations, reports, "novels," so-called, and 
 histories that are far more romantic, the North is not only 
 writing the story of the late war, but the character of its 
 late enemies. A great deal of this, from proclamation up, 
 we know to be false, but the time has not come, nor does 
 every one who feels the need, feel the power to do justice. 
 
 Each Southern man though, may, and ought to contrib- 
 ute something to our own story of this war, even though 
 it be as pure a trifle as this: " The living claim it, and the 
 inexpressibly loved and honored dead demand it." 
 
 And I hope to live to see the day, when the infamous 
 atrocities of Hunter in the Valley of Virginia will have a 
 fitting historian. 
 
 And above all, when the story of that hellish carnival of 
 lust, and rapine, and outrage, and arson, and murder and 
 nameless villianies which Yankee poets and magazine 
 writers euphoniously name, " The great march from the 
 mountains to the sea," shall be painted with a broad brush 
 and a free hand, that mankind may shudder again to think 
 of the crimes committed in the name of " Liberty." 
 
 Actuated by just such feelings and motives, I thrust out 
 into the world, this new born "trifle," to bear all the ills 
 of a doubting and critical world. 
 
 There is not an event of any magnitude mentioned here- 
 in, that is not critically and historically true. It is need- 
 less to say that naught is put down here in malice ; the 
 days of carnage are long past, and no spirit of retribution 
 exists in the breasts of the unsuccessful, but there is a 
 
6 Preface. 
 
 spirit implanted in the minds of all true and honorable 
 men, to know the truth of events, whether detailed in his- 
 tory or in romance. In no instance, throughout these 
 pages, is an effort made to exaggerate the deeds of our 
 enemies, or to insult the dead by false representation; as 
 an instance, the deeds of Miss F., absolutely perpetrated 
 during and after the war, if left to our judgment alone, 
 were far more heinous than those detailed herein. 
 
 Ah! me, the forty years since last we met, 
 Seems to me forty folios, bound and set 
 By time, the Great Transcriber, on his shelves, 
 Wherein are written the histories of ourselves. 
 What tragedies, what comedies are there ; 
 What joy and grief, what rapture and despair! 
 What chronicles of triumph and defeat, 
 Of struggle, and temptation, and retreat; 
 What records of regrets and doubts and fears! 
 What pages blotted, blistered by our tears; 
 What lovely landscapes on the margin shine ; 
 What sweet angelic faces, what divine, 
 And holy images of love and trust, 
 Undimmed by age, unsoiled by damp or dust. 
 
 — Longfellow. (Morituri Salutamus). 
 
From Dost to Ashes. 
 
 ^w^ 
 
 A Romance of the Confederacy 
 
 By Geo, P, C. Rumbough, 
 
 LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS. 
 Published by the Brown Printing Company. 
 
 Copyrighted by the Author 
 
 1895. 
 
 [All Rights Reserved.] 
 
FROM DUST TO ASHES. 
 
 Chaptek I. 
 
 It was the 4th day of July, 185 — , when the Corps 
 of Cadets of the Virginia Military Institute at 
 Lexington stood for the last time, with the gradu- 
 ating class of that date, on the parade ground, 
 and, while the last sad, sweet notes of ' ' Auld 
 Lang Syne" floated upon the air from the in- 
 struments of Volandt's Band, with tears and 
 almost a heart-broken voice came the Command- 
 ant's order, "Break ranks." Then came from 
 a lusty, cheery voice, "Three cheers for 'Little 
 Grill ! ' " ( the commandant ) . This was given with 
 energy and zest, and for the day discipline was 
 discounted. 
 
 To one among those cadets, who wore a cap- 
 tain's chevrons, how ominously sounded those 
 words, ' ' Break ranks ! ' ' For years the barracks 
 of the Institute had been his home; now his 
 ranks were broken by command, his home was 
 broken. To break ranks was to drift far away 
 from the blue, outlined mountains ; from the ties 
 of devoted room-mates, not changed for years ; 
 and, from her who had won the adoration of his 
 
 603217 
 
10 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 heart. All, all seemed to be gliding away, as did 
 the fading tones of that sad "Auld Lang Syne." 
 
 Amid the chaff and chattering of elevated 
 plebean corporals, more modest, but not less ex- 
 alted sergeants, lieutenants and captains, whose 
 happiness was tempered with dignity, four room- 
 mates, including our captain, sauntered quietly 
 to their double-tower rooms, to lay aside sword, 
 sash and gun ; to shake off forever the dust of 
 college, and prepare to step forth a citizen, to do 
 duty in the great struggle of life, liberty and 
 pursuit of happiness. 
 
 Upon the evening of this day, the great event 
 of the four seasons, the annual ball of the grad- 
 uating class was to occur, under the auspices of 
 our captain, whose taste and energy had given 
 the walls and ceiling of the Mess Hall the ap- 
 pearance of a thousand lights, reflecting the col- 
 ors of every nationality, and dazzling the eyes 
 of the beauties of many states; but, none more 
 charming than those of the daughters of the 
 grand old Commonwealth of Virginia. 
 
 It is now the hour of midnight, and three ca- 
 dets, ( 'apt. Phil Randolph, Lawrence Mayne and 
 Eobert McKene are engaged in close conver- 
 sation, apart from others. Speaking in a non- 
 chalant way, Capt. Randolph remarked, " 1 sup- 
 pose you two will report progress after the ball?" 
 
 With downcast eyes, poor Lawrence answered, 
 
 Rflf 
 Net* 
 
i II § 
 
 •iiiiiiintiiHiiu 'It 
 
 wiipwit'^m^ 
 
 waNa^r<?Z*P^idm<th 'AY <-^%,>n fteaasr 
 
 THE BALL. 
 
The Ball. 11 
 
 sadly, that he feared that he would have noth- 
 ing to report "worth mentioning," for be it 
 remembered, though as true and honest a man 
 or a soldier as any living being, he is not of the 
 mould, nor gifted with nature's happy faculties, 
 to impress or captivate the feminine heart. Im- 
 agine a young man about twenty-one years of 
 age, five feet and eleven inches in height, body 
 flat and angular, a waist too near his shoulders, 
 and which always enforced an unseemly crease 
 in his uniform coat near the hips. His ears were 
 large, his nose long and thin, and a mouth too 
 broad for his face, and eyes neither blue, black 
 nor gray, but verging toward hazel, they were 
 cheerful and expressive; his hair was thin and 
 straight — too straight. With this faint outline 
 you have our dolorous friend, Lawrence Mayne. 
 
 The brother room-mate, Robt. McKene, was 
 just the reverse — perfect in figure, stout, strong 
 and active. His head was crowned with wavy 
 brown hair, and set with sparkling, laughing 
 gray eyes. In a cheery, happy manner, which 
 always characterized the man, he said: "Steady, 
 Lawrence, a fig for a faint heart in the beginning 
 of the action; remember old Jack's talk at our 
 last recitation: 'Remember, gentlemen, when it 
 becomes necessary and war is declared, and the 
 sword is drawn, throw away the scabbard.' ' 
 
 "Don't mind that handsome upstart. I don't 
 
12 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 like his bearing, or his hypocritical familiarity; 
 that Mr. Van Horton, I mean." 
 
 "Oh, Rob, you are always my guardian angel." 
 
 u Je suis re que je suis," remarks Lawrence, 
 "and for better and for worse. I can't hold a 
 candle to that blarsted fellow ; and moreover, she, 
 to whom he now talks so earnestly, is from the 
 same State up north, and there is where the ad- 
 ditional advantage comes in." 
 
 Three ladies are now approaching, each lean- 
 ing upon the arm of her escort, for the merry 
 dance has been in full swing for three hours, 
 and while the musicians are being refreshed, the 
 couples are promenading to see and be seen. 
 
 "Come," was the one word spoken by Cap- 
 tain Randolph, and with smiles and happy 
 greetings each swung in upon the unoccupied 
 side of his respective lady-love. The old adage 
 of a new broom applies here, and not many steps 
 are taken before the three room-mates are left 
 each in the sweet possession of the object of his 
 affection. We will not weary the reader with a 
 lengthy description of these young ladies, but 
 simply say that Captain Randolph was bending 
 his head low and speaking to a typical southern 
 beauty, clear complexion, cheeks tinged with 
 the rich, roseate hue of the peach-bloom, shaded 
 by hair as dark and glossy as the raven's wing, 
 and eyes lustrous, beautiful (ravishing) black 
 
A Bevy of Beauties. 13 
 
 eyes, with a pliant and petite figure ; as such we 
 introduce Miss Marguerite Darlington. 
 
 With Kobert McKene was the tall, lithe blonde, 
 the pretty and talented first born of a neighbor- 
 ing pastor, in whose love he felt secure, each 
 bound not only by affection's tie, but by a sim- 
 ilarity of faith, being both communicants of 
 the same denomination, and as was often said 
 around the table when books grew tiresome, that 
 "they were born for one another." 
 
 With Lawrence Mayne came the vivacious 
 little blonde from New York, Miss Sadie Carday, 
 whose petite form was enhanced by contrast with 
 her partner. Her head was thrown back, 
 crowned with innumerable yellow curls, her 
 piquante face upturned and her blue eyes reflect- 
 ing those of enraptured Lawrence, smiling and 
 nodding with that same sweet little ' 'yes, ' ' ' 'yes, ' ' 
 "really," which we had heard so often in our 
 hours of leisure, when rules were broken and 
 visits stolen. As we look back now, a feeling 
 of sad and weary recollection pervades our 
 whole being. 
 
 The events of that night of music, the dance, 
 the merry voices of the revellers, are the memo- 
 ries of happy hours, the glimpses of bright sails, 
 cloudless skies, a smooth and unruffled sea ; no 
 sign of storm, of hidden reef nor mountain 
 billows; no shipwreck, no deeds of bloodshed, 
 
14 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 no thought of grim-visaged war or of sudden 
 death. 
 
 The evening is spent, the lights are extin- 
 guished, and each room-mate is happy in the 
 escort of his lady-love home. 
 
 The 5th of July finds the coaches all busy in 
 loading cadets and baggage for a homeward 
 journey, and our heroes depart, swearing allegi- 
 ance unalterable and undying; and thus the dust 
 of college is shaken from their garments, and 
 left behind forever. 
 
 Four years later, a tall, soldierly-looking man 
 is leaning carelessly against a stanchion of the 
 guards of one of the floating palaces of the great 
 Mississippi river; his gaze is fixed upon the 
 seemingly moving landscape, as the big boat 
 ploughs its way through the muddy waters. It 
 is growing towards the close of the day, and a 
 stillness pervades the hour, only broken by the 
 escape of steam and the splash of the wheels. 
 Clad in a hunter's garb, with high-topped boots, 
 owe would hardly recognize the beau. Captain 
 Randolph, or him who was one time called the 
 best dressed man in the western city of M . 
 
 It grows late, but still he keeps his place; 
 there is a step near him ;m<l lie incidentally 
 turns and meets the gaze of a stranger, bearded 
 
Captain Randolph. 15 
 
 like himself. Approaching, he asks, in an in- 
 sinuating' voice : 
 
 "Is this not Captain Randolph, who was so 
 attentive to the beautiful Marguerite Darlington 
 at the ball in Lexington a few years ago ! ' ' 
 
 The answer comes slowly and deliberately: 
 
 " I believe it is, sir; but, pardon me, who are 
 you?" 
 
 "Well, I took the advantage of your room- 
 mate, and now I have done the same for you. 
 Well! well, my beard is my protector, as the 
 lapse of four years has given me this advantage 
 — but, in truth, I am the Van Horton, whom 
 Miss Sadie Carday introduced to yourself and 
 friends. I am glad to meet you, as I am now 
 hurrying north from New Orleans. The Crescent 
 City is a little too warm for my comfort, therm- 
 ally and politically, and I long for home and a 
 more congenial condition of politics ; but there 
 goes the gong; let us sup, and over our cigars 
 this evening talk of old times and of those to 
 come." 
 
 Seated in the saloon, Van Horton meets the 
 calm and earnest gaze of Randolph, and abruptly 
 asks : 
 
 "What do you think of this firing on Fort 
 Sumter?" 
 
 With a coolness born of a spirit of contempt, 
 engendered four years before, Randolph an- 
 
16 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 swers: "That they meant business, and burnt 
 some powder." 
 
 Quickly questions Van Horton : 
 
 "Oh! but I mean what about the South, and 
 will Virginia go out?" 
 
 "The South," answers Randolph, "I fear 
 means war. Virginia will be the last to go out, 
 but afterwards, like her Washington, will be first 
 in the war." 
 
 With the air of one indulging in a speculative 
 soliloquy, Van Horton adds: 
 
 "It looks strange, Randolph; here we are, two 
 good friends; we have no quarrel; we have 
 supped at the same table, danced in the same 
 quadrille, and now we are to make ready to cut 
 each other's throats; and for what?" 
 
 "There you are too hard for me," answers 
 Randolph. "I claim the right of secession, and 
 the principle of States' Rights, but the policy of 
 secession I utterly condemn as the quintessence 
 of folly. As you Northerners first in everything 
 weigh the almighty dollar, if you want a cheap 
 trade, in the cause of humanity, it would take 
 an incubus from the shoulders of the Southern 
 slaveholders, and cost millions less in dollars, 
 and thousands of precious lives, to follow old 
 England's example, purchase the slave and col- 
 onize him in his native land." 
 
Memphis. 17 
 
 Stung by the answer, Van Horton retorts, tes- 
 tily: 
 
 "But your people have degraded the flag of 
 our country, and replaced it with another; in 
 fact, are inaugurating a rebellion, are personally 
 rebels." 
 
 "Now, stop there," said Randolph, rising up 
 briskly. "You misrepresent, either from ignor- 
 ance or from prejudice, and I will not hear it ; 
 we own no parent government, as Washington 
 did Great Britain, nor do we call it rebellion to 
 differ with our brother ; and for the future — " 
 
 But here the loud voice of the steamer's whis- 
 tle, which effectually drowned all efforts at being 
 heard, checked all conversation, and caused our 
 disputants to join their fellow-passengers for- 
 ward of the cabin, where the view of the bluffs 
 of Fort Pickering and Memphis*, crowned with 
 its long line of brick houses of business, the tall 
 spires of its houses of worship and its long blank 
 walls of ample cotton sheds greeted jdie eyes 
 already grown tired of the sameness of river 
 scenery, of sand-bar, snags, sawyers, cotton 
 fields and fringing willows. 
 
 With many bumps, and a river song by the 
 crew, whose refrain, "Jee rang! oh, ho!" was 
 given in chorus with a will, and not without 
 melody, the stage plank is lowered, and the pas- 
 sengers are now leaving who have Memphis for 
 
18 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 their destination. Slowly going up the bluff, 
 Van Horton stopped, looked back and greeted 
 Randolph with the words, "Gayoso, I suppose, 
 Captain?" 
 
 "Yes, answered Randolph, I always stop 
 there ; the proprietor, Cockrell and his boys are 
 old friends of mine." 
 
 " I shall go there too, remarked Van Horton, 
 if only to stay long enough to tell you where I 
 am going, and say good-bye." 1 
 
 Oppressed with the companionship of an un- 
 congenial acquaintance, Randolph rather sneer- 
 ingly answered : 
 
 1 ' Perhaps the thermometer which stood so 
 high in New Orleans may read a few degrees 
 higher here, and what is said, had better be de- 
 livered in transitu." 
 
 And as they walked only a few blocks dis- 
 tance, Randolph learned that Sadie is the affi- 
 anced of Van Horton; that she has discarded 
 Laurence Mayne, who even now has been one 
 of the foremost to enlist in the Confederate 
 cause, and in her eagerness to vent her patriotic 
 zeal, has written to her fiance Van Horton to 
 come back to his native state and enlist in the 
 ranks of its defenders; and winning glory, to be 
 rewarded with smiles and affections of his de- 
 voted Sadie. 
 
Painless Separation. 19 
 
 ' l Passengers going north by the Memphis & 
 Ohio — all aboard!" cries the porter. 
 
 u G-ood-bye, Randolph, we may meet again; 
 who knows, and where!" 
 
 And the form of Van Horton disappeared, 
 and Randolph observed nothing, for his back is 
 turned to the rattle of the 'bus. 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 It is a bright, sunny morning, when the young- 
 day is still lingering to kiss the dews of night ; 
 the stillness of nature is only broken by the 
 cock-crow from the lovely valley resting so 
 peacefully under the shadow of the mountain 
 spurs which now interpose their heads to the 
 rising sun, waiting for the day-god's higher 
 ascent to reveal its sylvan charms, and happy 
 homes. Near the highway stood a plain but 
 well-kept cottage; the summer roses had not 
 all fallen, and the well-kept vines which clung 
 to the porch, lattice and tree, with potted plants 
 of fuschia, heliotrope and other hot-house growth 
 scattered here and there, showed the presence of 
 refinement and gentle woman's taste. 
 
20 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 An old man sat upon the porch, in gown and 
 slippers ; a man of eighty years, with bald head, 
 but above the neck, fringed with hair as white 
 as snow ; his beard was long and like that of his 
 head was snow white ; he was seated in a large 
 rocker, quietly reading his Bible ; his good wife, 
 a woman of some seventy years of age, as 
 straight as an arrow, with jet black hair and 
 features lovely in her old age, with hazel eyes 
 which beamed love in every glance, stood near. 
 
 The family servant, the only one left after 
 their fallen fortunes and emigration from Vir- 
 ginia, and a member of the family for forty 
 years, with bucket in hand, stood at the front 
 gate, on her way to the spring; but, hearing 
 horse-hoofs up the road, she stopped and stood 
 gazing, until a stranger, clad in gray, with his 
 old blue slouched hat pulled over his eyes, and 
 mounted upon a horse which looked able to dare 
 and do what his master's rein and spur directed, 
 drew up alongside of the gate, and with a gently- 
 spoken "Whoa!" looked into the old, familiar 
 face and said : 
 
 ' l Mammy, is this the way you welcome your 
 baby?" 
 
 The bucket dropped; Randolph was hauled 
 from his steed, and with such expressions as 
 "MyG-od! that I shouldn't know my child!" 
 was hugged and kissed and thumped in the back 
 
\r 
 
 MAMMY'S SURPRISE. 
 
A Colored Mammy. 21 
 
 by his good old black mammy, until rescued by 
 his mother and father, who, in their quiet way, 
 by gentle effort, came to the rescue, and wel- 
 comed their boy with smiles and kisses and 
 loving words. 
 
 With the appearance of the youngest child, a 
 girl of sweet sixteen, a bright and happy mortal, 
 with the figure of a goddess and a face to match, 
 lovely lips and laughing, blue eyes and bonnie, 
 brown hair — the pet sister of our hero, the clamor 
 of tongues, inquiring, admiring and wondering, 
 would have upset and silenced a man of even 
 sterner stuff than our hero. 
 
 ''Well, Master Phil, honey! you did fool me 
 that time sure," says mammy, and off she goes 
 into one of those stereotyped laughs, that was 
 as dear to his ears, as it had lingered always in 
 memory. 
 
 The good, old hands fondled his hand and 
 smoothed his hair, and, having caught her 
 breath, continues: 
 
 "And, honey, where have you been? What 
 have you been doing? So tall and straight, with 
 the same kinky head of my baby boy! " 
 
 And while all this is going on the sister is kiss- 
 ing the cheeks and lips of the soldier brother, 
 while the aged parents are sitting helplessly 
 smiling and drinking in the comforting joy 
 begotten by the unexpected and happy return 
 
22 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 of their boy to their hearts and home. But, ah! 
 how soon was that joy to be changed to sadness, 
 by an absence shrouded in the smoke of battle 
 and poisoned by the raids of ruthless robbers. 
 
 " My son," says the father, "I see that you 
 have on our color, but where is your command 
 and what is your rank \ ' ' 
 
 Randolph answers that he is captain on staff 
 duty, but now on special service to Columbia, 
 South Carolina. 
 
 "But, tell me, father, how do you like the 
 mountains of Tennessee?" 
 
 "You understand, my son," answers the old 
 man, "that this is East Tennessee, and there are 
 many ignorant mountaineers, who are not pat- 
 terns of nobility in any sense, and they claim to 
 be good Confederates, when our troops hold the 
 country, and are equally positive that they are 
 good Federals when the Yankees are here ; they 
 are robbers at heart, and I expect to contribute 
 to their rapacity, but not without an effort of my 
 old arms to protect my own ; but tell us of the 
 news ; we are twelve miles from the railroad, and 
 news by letters or papers seldom reaches us." 
 
 Randolph then proceeds to tell of the battles 
 around Fredericksburg; of the second Manassas, 
 of Sharpsburg, the raging and gallant defense 
 of Fort Sumter, and of Battery Wagner, and the 
 
Randolph Hears News. 23 
 
 sinking of the Keokuk, much of which he was 
 an eye-witness to. 
 
 An old soldier of 1812, the eyes of the old 
 nian kindle, and eagerly he listens to every de- 
 tail, but even now we can see the quiet look of 
 the good, old mother; can see the weary eyes, 
 from whose pupils look a heart more weary, as 
 she gazes at that never-ending click, click, click 
 of the knitting-needles, but whose steadfast look 
 was not there, but far away with her four boys, 
 following the red battle-flag, one of whom, her 
 gallant baby boy, was so soon to be brought 
 home and laid away in a soldier's grave. 
 
 "We had the pleasure of a visit the last time 
 the Yankees were here," says his sister, "from a 
 Captain Van Horton, and he said that he knew 
 you." 
 
 "I know him," remarked Randolph. "What 
 of him ?" 
 
 "Oh, he came with a lot of tories, negroes, 
 mountain-cats and Yankees, and one of our 
 neighbors, hanging on to their troop, wanted to 
 take my mare, Bessie. Captain Van Horton was 
 good enough to prevent that. I have Bessie yet, 
 and the Yankees may get her, but the tories 
 never. ' ' 
 
 This sister, we will here inform the reader, had 
 lately married, and her home was upon a beau- 
 tiful farm some five miles distant, and midway 
 
2-1 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 between her father's place and the thriving vil- 
 lage of Gr . 
 
 A younger brother was in command of a bat- 
 talion of cavalry, whose duty it was to patrol this 
 very section, and, by consequence, the family 
 was rather a thorn in the side of good Unionists. 
 
 Knowing his brother's dashing character, his 
 handsome appearance, musical genius, and fond- 
 ness of the society of the ladies v Randolph with- 
 out hesitation asked, "Is Southey in danger of 
 capture either by Yankees or by any of the fair 
 damsels f " 
 
 In a moment a cloud descended upon the 
 group, as his mother calmly raises her eyes and 
 answers, "That between 'that woman' and Cap- 
 tain Van Horton, Southey was not in a position 
 to enjoy either his home or the society of ladies. " 
 
 "But who is 'that woman!' and what has Van 
 Horton to do with it?" interrogates Randolph. 
 
 "That woman, my son, is the daughter of the 
 most honored gentleman of the county, our friend 
 and neighbor; she is rather handsome, and in- 
 telligent, but it is all distorted by the intensity 
 of her venom ; her very being is absorbed with 
 the one idea of hate and revenge." 
 
 "But I pray you tell me, mother, her haunts," 
 said Randolph, in mimic fear, "that I may evade 
 her poisoned shafts; and does she go armed?" 
 
A Woman in the Case. 25 
 
 "Do not trifle, niy son; yon know the saying, 
 that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." 
 
 "Is that the matter? Who scorned her!" re- 
 torts Randolph. 
 
 "Your brother, Southey," answers his mother. 
 
 "Ah-h-h! There's where the shoe pinches," 
 and Randolph relapses into a revery. 
 
 Click, click, click, goes the needles, and Ran- 
 dolph still is silent and in thought. 
 
 The day wanes, the soldier currys his horse, 
 fills his trough with corn and his rack with fod- 
 der, and then goes to visit his mulatto mammy, 
 to talk of times in Old Virginia when she bossed 
 him, in his happy childhood days. 
 
 Seated upon her door-step, and enjoying the 
 smoke from his old briar-root companion, Ran- 
 dolph asks: 
 
 "Aunt Rachel, it's rather quiet down here, is 
 it not?" 
 
 "Well, mostly;" she answers, "but for the 
 raiders — sometimes the Yankees, sometimes the 
 robbers, and sometimes the Confederates. Be- 
 tween the three, we have trouble enough; and 
 may the good Lord curse the wretches who stole 
 my grave-clothes, all the most beautiful linen, 
 all packed up and under my bed, when the 
 Yankees raided here last, and they stole the lot. 
 Thank God, old mistress saved her silver; for 
 your sister Lucy put on a pair of Southey' s 
 pants and climbed the big tree over the house, 
 
26 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 and tied the things to top boughs and saved 
 them." 
 
 "Aunt Rachel," says Randolph, "tell me 
 about brother Southey and 'that woman' 
 mother spoke of, and about a Captain Van Hor- 
 ton, lately here," 
 
 "Lor' honey, (with a chuckle) it is such a 
 
 mix. You see 'that woman' is Miss F , 
 
 (you know her, of course you do), she is dead 
 in love with Major Southey, and this Captain 
 
 Van Horton and Miss F now are very great 
 
 friends. You remember that big school-house 
 
 in Gr . It is said that Southey unexpectedly 
 
 visits that school one day, was seen to leave in 
 a very few moments, mount his horse and ride 
 away like the wind. You know what a horse- 
 man he is; always at home on a horse's back. 
 His troop passed some weeks later and he re- 
 fused to recognize or return the salutation of Miss 
 F , and ordered your sister never to recog- 
 nize her. Now, honey, you know it all. And 
 oh, that woman's tongue! Since then she has 
 circulated the lie that Southey was a coward!" 
 
 "No, it cannot be that the daughter of so 
 good a father would stoop to slander," says 
 Randolph. 
 
 "Yes, son, it is even so ; but people here don't 
 mind her lies, nor is she even respected any 
 more; but abroad where she is not known, it 
 
Over the Hills and Far Away. 27 
 
 might hurt, and moreover, she is breaking her 
 old father's heart." 
 
 Let us say right here, for the benefit of those 
 who might expect the negro dialect, that Rachel 
 is a true character, raised in the dwelling-house 
 of her white people, partaking of their manners, 
 customs and language, and in pride of family 
 and respectful conduct would set a bright ex- 
 ample for many of her unasked, unwanted and 
 over-zealous sympathizers . 
 
 After along and pleasant chat, Randolph rises. 
 
 With a kindly "good-night, and may God bless 
 you child," the old mammy closes her door, and 
 Randolph retires to his room, thoughtful, sad, 
 weary of body and of mind. 
 
 Two more days with the loved ones, and at 
 early dawn of the fourth day he is mounted on 
 the back of his gallant old charger, and with 
 the warm kisses of affection still clinging to his 
 lips, and the fervent prayer for God's good 
 guidance on his journey of all the household, 
 Randolph turns his horse's head towards the 
 road, crosses the mountain, and directs his 
 course up the romantic valley of the French 
 Broad, intending to strike the railroad at Green- 
 ville, South Carolina. As he journeyed, trouble- 
 some thoughts of the loved ones at home 
 and "thatwoman," would crowd upon his mind, 
 bringing worry and anxiety, and as the sequel 
 proved, not without cause. 
 
From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Chaptee III. 
 
 Columbia, South Carolina, was duly reached, 
 and after a stay of two weeks, Randolph, with 
 one hundred and fifty men, detailed from the 
 camp near the city, bid adieu to the city and 
 took the cars en route to the Army of Northern 
 Virginia, then encamped around Fredericksburg, 
 facing the army of General Hooker of Chancel- 
 lorsville fame, and yclept Fighting Joe. Re- 
 porting to his chief, he was once again with his 
 brother staff officers, exchanging the news of 
 the trip for the gossip of the camp. 
 
 The long, lazy body of Captain Noble, a 
 member of the staff, is observed to move, and 
 with a half-awakened ' ' Hello ! " he chants his 
 thoughts : " Lo ! the lost sheep is gathered to 
 its flock, and the shepherd rejoiceth, beholding 
 the contents of his well-filled haversack, which 
 the children of Jacobaster hath swung upon his 
 neck. Say, Randolph, did you not remember our 
 bowels, nor have compassion for the same, nor 
 even remember in the days of thy youth and 
 painful verdancy that tjie juice of corn — yea, 
 even of the peach or apple, would please our 
 palates, and cause our hearts to leap for joy?" 
 
 11 Come, Noble," answers Randolph, " the sun 
 may be held accountable for many changes in 
 
Welcome to the " Grub-Box." 29 
 
 nature, but I can swear that he never painted 
 your nose, nor can even the shadow of his 
 friendly eclipse hide its roseate shame. You 
 bear the evidence of your own conviction of 
 living too high, both in meat and drink." 
 
 Noble shuts his eyes and groans out in mock 
 agony: '-'He is lost! lost! gone clean astray; 
 been 'living too high,' and judges his betters by 
 himself; " and quickly sitting up, he says, "I will 
 bet the mess five to one that Randolph is fixed ; 
 that he has a box and something good com- 
 ing; open up the game, old boy, or I will give 
 you away, for I am the possessor of a message 
 for you from a — a — now who do you suppose! 77 
 
 " I know your propensity for schemes, 77 an- 
 swers Randolph ; ' 'play honest, Noble, for I never 
 liked the word ' bribery. 7 77 
 
 "My most obtusely verdant youth, and auto- 
 crat of the grub-box, keep on in the error of thy 
 ways, the fool is wise in his own conceit, and 
 when thou coolest, I will hearken unto thee ; and, 
 further, I have taken charge, have concealed, 
 and preserved, one sweet, little missive from a 
 small village called Lexington, where thou did 7 st 
 strut and perspire, with sword and sash and a 
 high cock 7 s feathers, as a valiant captain of Com- 
 pany B, 77 and Noble, with a grand assumption 
 of dignity and nonchalance, quietly subsides. 
 
 "I surrender, 77 said Randolph; "come fel- 
 
30 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 lows, all hands ; I have a box, and in it a present 
 of magnificent French brandy, just through the 
 blockade, the pure stuff; it was given me by 
 that generous patriot, Mr. Wagner, of the firm 
 of Trenholm & Co., of Charleston, S. C. ; he 
 gave me, also, this elegant suit while in Col- 
 umbia," and while the staff enjoyed, the well- 
 filled box of luxuries, Eandolph read the follow- 
 ing letter: 
 
 " Lexington, Va., March 10, 186—. 
 "Dear Captain: With all our woes, none seem so hard 
 to bear as the suffering of our dear friends. 
 
 " You remember that on the 25th ult. your room-mate, 
 Robert McKene, was to have been married to his long- 
 loved sweetheart, Miss S . News has reached us that 
 
 he was killed at the head of his men, cheering them to re- 
 pel a surprise. I know that you loved him well, for he was 
 so true and brave, yet so gentle, and for this I suffer more, 
 because I know how your heart will bleed. Poor Miss 
 
 S is almost distracted with grief. May a merciful God 
 
 bring comfort to a stricken heart, and teach her to trust to 
 His mercy. 
 
 "Can you come and see us? We will be so happy to look 
 upon your face once more. 
 
 "Wishing you all manner of good fortune in battle and 
 in camp, I am, as ever, Your affectionate 
 
 Marguerite." 
 
 The first one of the three shot dead! The 
 noise of the mess fell discordantly upon his ears ; 
 but with the sweet words of his best loved before 
 his eyes, his mind was in part withdrawn from 
 the contemplation of the loss of his friend, and 
 
News of the First Killed. 31 
 
 just then the deep, sullen roar of a piece of artil- 
 lery, as its echoing sound faintly died away, 
 brought vividly to his mind the fact that they 
 were soldiers, and a soldier had but to die when 
 duty called. 
 
 With a heavy heart he joined the mess, and 
 filling his glass, he turned to his brother officers, 
 and with eyes bedimmed with tears, and a heart 
 too full for utterance, he drank to the last drop 
 in the glass. 
 
 "Did she saw you off, old boy!" questions 
 Capt. Noble. 
 
 "Read!" answers Randolph, as he threw the 
 note in their midst. 
 
 After reading, it was remarked by several that 
 they were aware of the fact, many days before ; 
 that it was but the fate of war: "One of us 
 may go to-morrow, still the army will march and 
 counter-march, the flags will flutter as merrily 
 in the breeze, and the war will go on all the 
 same, and the dead forgotten." 
 
 So they descant upon the news, until the 
 cheery voice of Captain Noble is heard saying : 
 
 "Cheer up, old man; you don't smoke, we 
 do, so we'll destroy your weeds, while you im- 
 bibe. Attention! fill up, let joy abound! And 
 now, Randolph, I will give you the promised 
 message. Your friend, Lawrence Mayne, rode 
 over from the 11th Virginia, and joined us in 
 
32 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 our magnificent repast — menu: bread, coffee, 
 meat. He wanted to see you bad, real bad; he 
 seemed to be rather in the dumps, you know the 
 dumps — upset, as it were. He says that he 
 wants you to send a courier over to him to 
 notify him as soon as you arrive. Now, save 
 him a wee drop of that French soothing syrup, 
 and you brace him up and save his soul." 
 
 And with like chaff of the mess, the evening 
 passes away, and one by one each rolls down 
 his blanket, and the sullen boom of a Yankee 
 gun, now and then, only mars the stillness of 
 the night, but fails to disturb the slumbers of 
 the staff around the tent of Cfeneral R . 
 
 The next day dawns brightly, and as soon as 
 breakfast is finished a courier is sent to the 
 
 camp of General G , with the " Compliments 
 
 of Captain Randolph, and would Adjutant 
 Mayne please call at the headquarters of Gen- 
 eral R ?" 
 
 The bugle was just sounding the dinner call 
 when Adjutant Mayne entered .Randolph's tent, 
 with a smile upon his face, but oh! the sadness 
 of that smile. Extending his hand, he says: 
 
 u Welcome! and the lost is found, and now 
 we will kill the fatted calf, call in our gray- 
 backed cherubs, and let us make merry. Tell 
 us first the news of home, and of Marguerite; 
 did you see her?" 
 
Mayne Tells What He Knows. 33 
 
 "No, indeed," answers Randolph; "Cupid 
 hides his bow when Mars issues his stern com- 
 mands. Of home I am troubled." 
 
 Adjutant Mayne, speaking slowly, if not sadly, 
 says: 
 
 1 1 When you mentioned trouble I am reminded 
 of the object of my visit, perhaps to further bur- 
 den you. Hooker is across the river; our scouts 
 tell us of the massing of men, as if the whole 
 Yankee nation, with Europe, Asia and Africa 
 to aid them, was enclosing us poor, hungry and 
 ragged few in its embrace ; and before we l mix ' 
 with them I want to talk with you, as we did 
 when 'rats' in old No. 17 at the V. M. I." 
 
 "G-o on, Lawrence; I am all attention," an- 
 swers Randolph. 
 
 Mayne asks: "Do you remember that fellow 
 Van Horton!" 
 
 Randolph nods affirmatively. 
 
 "Well," continues Mayne, "that man is not 
 of this country at all, but a miserable importa- 
 tion from Europe, and is both robber and spy; 
 under the garb of a Federal captain when play- 
 ing soldier, and Mr. Hobson as spy." 
 
 "Really, you astonish me!" answers Ran- 
 dolph. "Where do you get your information?" 
 
 "An exchanged prisoner brought me a note 
 from dear little Sadie," answers the adjutant, 
 telling me of the impostor and scoundrel ; that 
 
34 From Dust to Aslies. 
 
 her father, knowing his disreputable character, 
 has requested his absence from his house, and 
 that she had admired his fine appearance, but 
 never loved, and now despised him; that she 
 was my own littte sweetheart, and by the help of 
 friends and gold, was coming down to the home 
 of Marguerite to be in easy reach, where I could 
 visit her when duty allowed. Now, isn't that 
 delighful! " 
 
 u Yes, it is delighful," answers Randolph, 
 ' ' but what has that to do with the long face that 
 you are wearing! " 
 
 1 l Oh ! now you have me ; it is so good of her, 
 the sweet little Yankee darling, to leave home 
 and friends, and come away here in this starving 
 country, for what! Only to see me. It is so 
 much happiness, that it seems unnatural, and it 
 oppresses me, and I fear, yes and even tremble 
 lest I shall lose it." 
 
 After thus speaking, Adjutant Mayne seems 
 absorbed in gloomy forebodings. 
 
 " Look here, Mayne," says Randolph, "you 
 are dyspeptic." Noble, and all the mess in fact, 
 foresaw the need of a tonic, and the same is 
 now provided, and by the help of my right 
 bower, the Jack of Spades, we will proceed to 
 test the efficacy of the dose. " Here Jack, you 
 black rascal ! " (a trim young negro appears); 
 "bring fresh water and two glasses. Now, 
 
Pelham Appears. 35 
 
 Lawrence, here's a health to all good lassies, 
 and our's especially; down she goes." 
 
 "Randolph, do yon ever see the dark side of 
 anything ? ' ' 
 
 "The clown must keep the audience merry, if 
 his darling babe lies at home dying in its 
 mother's arms," answers Randolph : "and I ad- 
 vise you further to brace up, and if fortune or 
 misfortune puts the robber or spy into our pos- 
 session, we will not have to look very far for a 
 halter." 
 
 As the word "halter" is spoken, a small and 
 slender young man, with a bright face, with light 
 hair, and dressed in the uniform of an artillery 
 officer, suddenly appears before the two speakers, 
 and curtly asks: "Who wants a halter? I have 
 plenty for such work, and may have use for less 
 in a day or two." 
 
 The speaker is Captain Pelham, already known 
 to fame, and an ex-cadet of the V. M. I. 
 
 "Why," says Randolph, "what's up?" 
 
 "Don't you know," goes on Pelham, "that 
 Hooker has crossed the river, both the Rapidan 
 and Rappahannock, and is in Chancellorsville, 
 and is fortifying ? I saw Old Stonewall and Massa 
 Bob hobnobbing awhile ago, and we'll hear the 
 music of the brass band before many hours. 
 You both are in it, for yon both are with Rodes, 
 and he and Stonewall are too much alike not to 
 
36 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 be first in the fray. But I am in a hurry; just 
 stopped in to give you a hint. Load up." 
 
 "We have, in another way, and have a charge 
 for you. Come, stand in, and here's to victory ! ' ' 
 
 This announcement put an end to further con- 
 versation, and the friends separate in quest of 
 further news. Pelham goes straight to meet 
 Averill at Kelly's Ford and drive him back, and 
 then to give up his young life, a sacrifice upon 
 the altar of his country on that memorable 17th 
 day of March, 1863. 
 
 The days roll by, but now all is bustle and 
 hurry ; the couriers flash by on errands of haste ; 
 long lines of veterans clad in gray, with bayonets 
 glistening in the sun, stand in readiness for the 
 conflict ; now and then is heard the sharp report 
 of the picket as he cautiously feels the way for 
 the masses in blue behind him, and high above 
 all is the roar of the big guns ; for on this 29th 
 day of April, 20,000 Federal troops have crossed 
 the Rappahannock River, and now threaten the 
 right and rear of Lee's army at Hamilton's 
 Crossing. This effort at a diversion falls a flat 
 failure, for Lee well knows that the bulk of the 
 Yankee army is at Chancellorsville and well en- 
 trenched. 
 
 If it was the inspiration of Hooker to attract 
 attention to the Confederate right, and then to 
 move out of his fortified stronghold upon Lee's 
 
Chancellors ville. 37 
 
 left, and to double up his army and crush it, or 
 drive it into the river by the sheer force of his 
 masses, perhaps, acting upon the old maxim, 
 similia similibus cwantur, caused Lee to put into 
 execution the tactics so feebly undertaken by his 
 opponent. 
 
 Leaving one division of Jackson's corps to 
 watch the movement of the 20,000 under G-eneral 
 Sedgewick, Lee hurries with Jackson, who, mov- 
 ing the three remaining divisions of his corps, 
 namely: Rodes, A. P. Hill and Colston, which 
 joining Anderson, already at the Tabernacle 
 Church, five miles from Chancellorsville, pro- 
 ceed to "attack and repulse the enemy," as per 
 order of the Commander-in-Chief. 
 
 Anderson with his command, as gallant and 
 true and steady as the Old G-uard of Napoleon, 
 deploy with their faces towards Chancellorsville, 
 and sweep forward to meet the trained regulars 
 of the United States army, under Sykes, and 
 force them back, with all their vaunted prowess, 
 to the music of that "rebel yell" which had 
 quickened the pulses and oftener the heels of the 
 blue-coated soldiery, from the First Manassas 
 down to the present time. 
 
 Jackson, throwing forward to Anderson's re- 
 lief the four brigades of Lane, Heth, Ramsour 
 and McGrowau, continued to press the enemy 
 back until reaching the enemy's first line of in- 
 
38 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 trenchments, which had been masked until 
 reached, owing to the density of the growth of 
 timber ; and finding the day far spent, a halt was 
 called, and the army was bivouacked about two 
 miles from Chancellorsville. In the short time 
 the Federal forces had occupied Chancellorsville 
 they had shown an activity, energy and enter- 
 prise, thoroughly in keeping with their universal- 
 ly accorded reputation of go-aheadativeness, but 
 betraying by their beaver-like energy of turning 
 up the earth, felling trees, planting abattis, etc., 
 that "protection" was the desideratum, and the 
 cutting off of Lee's retreat when so ceremo- 
 niously "bagged," the airy dream of a newly 
 fledged "Correspondent. ' ' 
 
 Many a jolly Confederate veteran wondered at 
 the magnitude of labor performed by soldiers 
 who had the world to feed them, and the world 
 to replenish their shattered ranks. To cut off 
 the line of Confederate retreat, General Hooker 
 had very thoughtfully, for the emergency Df an as- 
 sault from the direction of Fredericksburg, by a 
 double line of works in the shape of two sides of a 
 rectangle, one side running north and south and 
 facing Fredericksburg, and crossing the main road 
 between the two places, and the other side perpen- 
 dicular to it facing south, with front to the 
 timber called The Wilderness, and its rear parallel 
 to the river. In a council of war it was decided 
 
Chancellor sville. 39 
 
 upon, on the part of the Confederates, that by 
 reason of the impregnability of Hooker's posi- 
 tion and the disparity of forces, a front attack 
 should be abandoned, and more especially from 
 motives of humanity. 
 
 But a man was there who never turned his 
 back when a fight was on, and Stonewall Jack- 
 son, the stern old warrior, whose frown was a 
 volume of reproof, and whose smile stole the 
 heart and cheered the soul as a rift of sunshine 
 through the clouds of despair, was the man to 
 solve the problem. 
 
 A narrow, crooked and unkept by-road de- 
 bouched to the left, hedged in by an interminable 
 growth of vines, pines and scrub-oak, winding 
 westwardly, then northerly, then westwardly 
 again till the old Brock road is reached. By this 
 route and a night march the Man of Menassas 
 proposed to flank the Federal Hooker and solve 
 the problem of "cutting off a line of retreat." 
 
 Thus, while one portion of the army under Lee 
 slept, Jackson at break of day, with Eodes in 
 front, followed by A. P. Hill's and Colston's di- 
 visions, was on the inarch through the thicket 
 of The "Wilderness, with the accompaniment only 
 of their own foot-falls, and the melancholy calls 
 of the whip-poor-wills, who seem to have espe- 
 cially colonized this gloomy thicket. 
 
 Arriving at the Furnace, and while placing a 
 
■40 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 regiment in position to guard an approach from 
 a by-road from Chancellorsville to that point, our 
 old friend Randolph meets Adjutant Mayne, and 
 after greetings they were discussing the chances 
 of the hazardous movement, when their atten- 
 tion is suddenly attracted to a courier, who, dash- 
 ing up, hands General Jackson a note, and with 
 cap in hand awaits his orders. 
 
 " That's General Stuart's courier," says Ran- 
 dolph, " now watch." 
 
 The note being read, Jackson raises his head; 
 there is a kindling of the eye, the faintest trace 
 of a smile, and a curt, "Thanks, my compli- 
 ments to General Stuart; that will do sir." 
 
 And replacing his cap, the courier rides back 
 to his command. 
 
 "Ah! ha! see that!" says Randolph, "you 
 know old Jack too long to be unable to read the 
 answer to the question ; if we don't give them a 
 1 side wipe ' after Jackson's most improved style 7 
 I'm a tinker." And now having reached the 
 Brock road, they make better progress, and 
 coming in sight of the cavalry, they passed 
 Jackson and Stuart on an elevation, glasses in 
 hand, examining the enemy's right flank and 
 rear. 
 
 Knowing that every man now should be at his 
 post, Randolph bids his old friend "au revoir," 
 and jestingly adds, "we'll drive them across the 
 
The Bout. 41 
 
 creek and win a furlough, and then we'll go to- 
 gether to see — you know who, my lad. The 
 Lord be with you." 
 
 Adjutant Mayne, looking him steadily in the 
 face, with a solemnity as unusual as it was in- 
 expressible, simply answered, "Amen!" 
 
 And now the time is come. Rodes' division 
 is deployed; six hundred feet behind comes A. 
 P. Hill's, a similar space is Colston's division, 
 both the latter in column. As fast as the men 
 can penetrate the thicket they advance upon the 
 unsuspecting troops of the Federal left flank. 
 
 At fifteen minutes past 5 o'clock Jackson let 
 slip his dogs of war, and if the eager hunter 
 chased faster or a more demoralized quarry, he 
 or they are entitled to the blue ribbon, over all 
 past and present lovers of the chase. 
 
 The men of Rodes burst upon the unsuspi- 
 cious German troops of Howard, the noted Elev- 
 enth Corps of Sigel, who incontinently lost their 
 suppers, and with the joyous u rebel yell," and 
 the quickning crash of musketry and artillery, 
 so utterly disorganized and demoralized were 
 they, that losing their heads, they rushed head- 
 long to the rear, crashing into trees, reckless of 
 everything in front, but determined to flee from 
 the wrath behind. 
 
 Soon Hill and Colston came up, to add to the 
 enthusiasm, and all went over the enemy's 
 
42 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 works, carrying confusion badly confounded to 
 the flying Dutch ; and now mingled with the rush 
 of men, were the maddened rush of riderless and 
 uncontrolled horses, battery wagons, ambu- 
 lances, gun-carriages, caissons — some flying, 
 some overturned, many poor brutes in harness 
 struggling in the helpless agony of death, either 
 by shot or collision — all, all one inextricable 
 mass of frightened men and brutes. 
 
 Whole regiments ran without firing a gun, 
 throwing away their guns to facilitate their 
 speed; madly seeking safety from the wrath of 
 the yelling Reb. 
 
 Batteries, in their mad haste, crashed against 
 tree or stump, were captured, and turned upon 
 the fleeing mob. 
 
 Who could paint with pen or brush the awful 
 stampede of that day, so as to portray to the 
 man of to-day the awful terror of the fleeing, 
 and the reckless chase for life and safety. 
 
 On, on came the yelling Confederates, plant- 
 ing their volleys upon the backs of flying men, 
 even in solid column. 
 
 With the incessant volleys of Confederate 
 musketry, men, horses, wagons and all the par- 
 aphernalia of war were jumbled into such an 
 inextricable confusion that it seemed a panorama 
 of pandemonium, upon the fields of Hades, 
 with all the aroma of its sulphurous canopy. In 
 
*'f% 
 
 m 
 
 ■v. _j 
 
 ■% > 
 
 ■1 ' to 
 
 H ■ o 
 
 Vf — i 
 
 -- 5 ■■-:>• _j 
 
 5^1 o 
 
Mayne Falls with Jackson. 43 
 
 a word, as expressed by a Northern writer, " the 
 stampede was universal, the disgrace general." 
 
 Until 8 o'clock p. m. the route continued to a 
 point, where a ridge was occupied, one-half mile 
 from Hooker's stronghold at the Chancellor 
 House. 
 
 Our two young officers, whom we left about 
 to go into action from the Brock road, were 
 with their respective commands, and though 
 going into the battle in different divisions, found 
 themselves together again, by the intermingling 
 of the different commands, being so intent in 
 their enthusiasm, that discipline gave place to 
 ardor, and for this intermingling, together with 
 the darkness, a halt was called. 
 
 If Jackson, like Joshua of old, could have 
 called a halt of the sun for two short hours, the 
 Sixteenth Army Corps of Hooker would have 
 had a shorter and a different history to record. 
 
 Our young friends met cordially, and were 
 exchanging the commonplace greetings and con- 
 gratulations of so successful a move, when 
 Mayne was called away to carry a message to 
 G-eneral Jackson. In the gloom of the trees, he 
 was pointed out the direction of his search, and 
 after many pulls and rubs of vines and boughs, 
 he came near the person of the General, when, 
 without any warning, or aDy conceivable object, 
 the gloom lighted up with a heavy volley fired 
 
44 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 from the Confederate infantry. Adjutant Mayne 
 fell badly wounded, with him many others, and 
 oh ! sad day for the Confederacy, he, the idol 
 of the army, at last lay crushed by the rifles of 
 his own troops ! 
 
 The pride of a glorious victory vanished from 
 the white faces of his gallant men, and oh ! the 
 wail that went up from the hearts of soldiers, 
 and from thousands at the hearths of their 
 Southern homes. 
 
 With the left arm of Jackson went the strength 
 of the right arm of Lee ; with his life went the 
 hopes of thousands for future success ; but with 
 his life as he spent it, his deeds as he wrought 
 them, his patriotism, piety and glory, all will 
 stand out in history, in all time, as a shining 
 example of virtue, honor and heroism. 
 
 At dawn the next morning, Bob, the darkey 
 henchman of Mayne, came to Randolph at the 
 outposts, and with tears and lamentations, tells 
 him that his master's horse was caught with 
 bloody saddle, and that he was now hitched near 
 the hospital at the intersection of the old turn- 
 pike and the Grermania plank road; that no 
 one would answer him, and that he " knowed 
 mvffinV * 
 
 Sending the boy back to the hospital, Ran- 
 dolph followed with many misgivings. As he 
 rode back over the field, hundreds of dead bodies 
 
Bob Finds the Wounded. 45 
 
 of men and horses encumbered the ground, lit- 
 erally strewed with every appliance of war, 
 which could be supplied by a government en- 
 riched by a war of oppression and plunder. 
 
 His mind oppressed with unwelcome thoughts, 
 Randolph found himself involuntarily repeating 
 that parting word, Amen ; and lifting his eyes 
 discovered the ubiquitous Bob running towards 
 him, and with a sickly display of white teeth, 
 saying: u I found him, sir! hurt bad and wants 
 you. I told him you was a-coming." 
 
 Arriving at the hospital, Bob takes his horse, 
 and Randolph enters a shed-room near where 
 Jackson lies in mortal agony. 
 
 Upon an improvised bed, made of straw, and 
 covered with an army blanket, Randolph finds 
 his comrade ; his &ale face with closed eyes, his 
 blood-stained uniform meet his gaze. Approach- 
 ing closer he tenderly lifts the hand of Mayne, 
 when their eyes meet in mutual love and sym- 
 pathy; no words pass their lips, only a gentle 
 pressure of the hands, and the stillness is only 
 interrupted by the gentle tread of the surgeons 
 and their assistants hurriedly attending their 
 anxiously awaiting patients. The services of the 
 surgeon performed, he administers a simple nar- 
 cotic, and the frown begotten of pain slowly dis- 
 appears from the patient's face, and sweet sleep, 
 now so near the cousin of death, clasps the sol- 
 
46 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 dier in its dreamy embrace. While Randolph 
 gently bathes his feverish brow and moistens his 
 lips, the surgeon tells him that Mayne's wounds 
 bear the signature and seal of Death ; that they 
 are beyond the control of a surgeon's art. 
 
 Sleep brings life a short reprieve, and the suf- 
 ferer asks to telegraph to Lexington and see if 
 Sadie had come, and if so, to come without de- 
 lay to Fredericksburg, to the old Marye mansion, 
 to which he begs to be taken. The surgeon 
 makes no objection, and Randolph hurries away 
 to obey. 
 
 Returning eastwardly, he finds Hooker beaten 
 back across the Rappahannock, the woods still 
 smoking, where the wounded and the dead were 
 caught in its cruel grasp on the day succeeding 
 Jackson's wound, and pushing on, found Lee 
 driving Sedgwick back in confusion across his 
 pontoons at Banks' Ford ; and in a gloomy rain 
 sat himself down to await the answer to his dis- 
 patch. 
 
 After long, weary hours the welcome message 
 
 came : "Lexington, May 7, 1863. 
 
 il Capt. Phil. Randolph, 
 
 "Care Gen. R. E. R., Fredericksburg, Va.: 
 "We start immediately: meet us at train. 
 
 "Marguerite." 
 
 Mounting his horse, Randolph returns with an 
 
 ambulance, and twelve hours later his friend is, 
 
 after a tedious trip, resting in the house whose 
 
Old Marye Mansion. 47 
 
 name is a synonym of valor and virtue in the 
 home circles of Fredericksburg and in the com- 
 mand in which the name has served. 
 
 In the quietness of the evening, the old Marye 
 mansion looks over the town, now rent and torn 
 by shot and shell, but within its walls, there 
 hovers a spirit whose restlessness, expressed in 
 long drawn sighs, quick and eager scanning of 
 the door, tell of an unquietness born of a knowl- 
 edge that certain things have a certain limit, and 
 that limit is final and unalterable. 
 
 Trains have a schedule, but "military neces- 
 sity" side-tracks and holdovers disorder the best 
 regulated ; and after hours of impatient waiting, 
 inquiries unnoticed, or unanswered, a long whis- 
 tle is heard, and a train comes in with its wheezy, 
 overworked engine. But horror of horrors! in 
 the box cars are huddled infantrymen, whose 
 heads are poked out of every available hole, and 
 who chaff every one without regard to color, rank 
 or previous condition. 
 
 About to turn away in despair, two ladies are 
 observed to step from a rear coach, which is at- 
 tached for the accommodation of the commis- 
 sioned officers, and a figure but too well known 
 not to be identified at such a distance, causes 
 Captain Randolph to hasten to their side, if not 
 to comfort, at least to lessen the weight of 
 affliction. 
 
48 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 Little is said, but Randolph in his effort to 
 gently prepare Sadie for the meeting desired, by 
 tone and action betrays his knowledge, but his 
 strong arm supports the drooping form till the 
 threshold is passed and the outstretched arms of 
 poor Mayne clasp the form of her he had loved so 
 long and well, and the little head, still crowned 
 with the wealth of sunny curls, is hidden on his 
 neck, and with throbbing heart and aching tem- 
 ples she pours out her thoughts in a torrent of 
 loving words. 
 
 "Tut, tut!" interposes good Doctor Murdock : 
 "don't murder my patient with kindness. Come, 
 ladies ; I am prepared for you ; I know that you 
 are hungry and tired. Let your maid bring 
 your sachels. A little rest for you and my pa- 
 tient, and upon good behavior you shall have 
 him all to yourselves." 
 
 With a happy smile, Mayne, growing steadily 
 weaker, sinks into a profound slumber, and as 
 Randolph sits by his side, with the faithful Bob, 
 he watches and notes the ominous, faint, quick 
 breathing, and as night creeps on he discovers 
 by the mantel clock that it is past the hour of 
 midnight ; that Bob is dead asleep, and that he 
 is almost nodding. The faintest sound of a 
 footstep startles him. Was he dreaming? But 
 drifting again toward dreamland, again he is 
 aroused as if by the opening of a door. Feeling 
 
The Somnambulist. 49 
 
 no anxiety, his pistols being near by upon the 
 table at his side, he picked up a book, and had 
 just opened to read, when again he surely heard 
 a door open. Looking over the book — was he 
 dreaming, or was it a spirit! Neither; for there 
 stood Sadie, clad in a robe of soft blue material, 
 with cuffs and neck trimmed with narrow lace, 
 the beautiful neck exposed, clear and white as 
 marble. She moved toward the wounded man 
 softly with her slippered feet, her eyes wide open, 
 but bent upon the floor. Grently kneeling by the 
 bedside of her lover, .she clasped her hands, and 
 bent her head, in the position of earnest, heart- 
 broken supplication; the lips moved, but no 
 word escaped the lips. Suddenly the maid hast- 
 ily entered, and took the sleeper in her arms as 
 a mother would her babe and disappeared, leav- 
 ing Randolph still wondering and alone with his 
 sleepers. 
 
 The door had scarcely closed behind the 
 women, when an opposite door, opening upon 
 the main hall, was gently opened and a man, 
 seemingly of middle age, in the garb of an ordi- 
 nary countryman, stood before Randolph. With 
 a nod and a scrape of the foot he remarked that 
 he " supposed this a tavern." 
 
 "You will correct your supposition by retiring 
 immediately," Randolph remarked. 
 
 "Well," he answered, "curiosity will git the 
 
50 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 advantage of folks; but, I thought that I might 
 find some acquaintances ; and, stranger, it 'pears 
 like Iknowed you, and might know your folks." 
 
 Fearing that he would awaken the sleeper, 
 Randolph advanced towards the intruder un- 
 armed, and when near enough to lay his hand 
 upon him, the stranger quietly placed the muzzle 
 of a revolver to his head, saying: "I am Mr. 
 Van Horton, at your service. I came up on the 
 same train with Sadie. As Mayne is dying, I 
 will not kill him. I will remember you to your 
 brother, whom I shall meet," and with a curse 
 for Sadie, backed out into the night, and left 
 Randolph trembling with rage, and stupefied by 
 the suddenness of the unwelcome apparition. 
 
 Morning broke clear and bright, and early 
 came the girls, and soon the kind doctor, with 
 a happy word of comfort for all. 
 
 Randolph spoke no word of the night, nor 
 was the adventure of the sleep-walker men- 
 tioned. 
 
 Sadie, with all the loving care of a mother, 
 bathed the face and hands of her lover, smoothed 
 his hair and softly kissed his lips, and placing 
 her chair so as to face him, took his hand, clasp- 
 ing it within her two. 
 
 11 Now, tell me, dearest, how you feel?" 
 
 " Weaker," he answers; ''notice my voice. 
 Ah! sweetheart, I dreamed of you last night." 
 
A Last, Sad Goad-Bye. 51 
 
 Breathing a long-drawn sigh, he continues: 
 "We were to be married, when the black face of 
 Van Horton came between ns; suddenly, Ran- 
 dolph, indignant at his action, slew him like a 
 dog; 'twas only a dream; but you were mine, 
 even for the brief moment." 
 
 More faintly, he adds: "Oh! Sadie, if I could 
 only live to love you, to go back with you to the 
 old hills of Rockbridge, where we first met, and 
 where we first learned to love." 
 
 Poor Sadie is speechless, and with tearful 
 eyes and agonized heart, drinks in the words 
 that may be the last upon earth. 
 
 Feverishly, he continues : ' ' You will think of 
 me, dear, and come to see the sod that covers a 
 heart always true to one little Yankee worth all 
 the treasures of earth, and the adoration of a 
 worthier heart than mine ' ' — and for the first 
 time he tries to raise up, but, grasping at the 
 empty air, he groans most sadly. Only a shud- 
 der, and all is still. 
 
 The patient doctor, standing near, bids Sadie 
 say farewell. Clasping her arm around his neck 
 with all the reckless abandon of love lost, she 
 kisses lips, cheek and brow, murmuring: "Grood- 
 bye, love, good-bye! " until Marguerite, who has 
 been a suffering but patient witness, leads her 
 away. 
 
52 From Dust tO Ashes. 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 
 A furlough to accompany the dead, enables 
 Randolph once more to visit his family, now liv- 
 ing in the village of Gr , already mentioned; 
 
 their home having been totally destroyed by tory 
 robbers. Striking across the mountains, he turns 
 his horses' head westward. The air is cool, and 
 the May days are cheerful in the bright gar- 
 ments of leaf and flowers of Spring, while the 
 now unlimited birds sweep before and around 
 him in notes made sweeter, no doubt, from a 
 sense of greater security from fright and pursuit. 
 At home on horseback, Randolph rides not hur- 
 riedly, because next to self — his horse; they 
 have ate, slept and suffered together; and now 
 as it grows dark he approaches a neat country 
 residence, and riding to the gate utters a loud 
 hallo! and is answered by a female voice, bid- 
 ding him to alight and come in, with a cordiality 
 native to Old Virginia. 
 
 Observing the lady's sleeves rolled up, and 
 believing that his arrival had disturbed her, per- 
 haps in the discharge of some domestic occupa- 
 tion, Randolph courteously apologized for the 
 inopportune interruption and begged forgive- 
 
Mr. O'Bowke. 53 
 
 ness, when the lady smilingly told him that his 
 anxiety was wholly unnecessary and uncalled 
 for, as she was only doctoring one of u Lee's 
 miserables," and if he wasn't too tired, that he 
 could come in and help. 
 
 Actuated more by curiosity than by any de- 
 sire to help, Randolph followed the lady to a 
 room, and there found the object of her atten- 
 tion. A brawny, manly looking soldier, lay 
 upon the bed, whose sheets, as white as snow, 
 made a vivid contrast with the dirty, gray pants, 
 the old ragged shirt and heelless socks of the 
 man lying flat upon his face. 
 
 A negro man stood near, holding a basin of 
 water, and the soldier's shirt being split open in 
 the back, exposed a large bandage pasted to his 
 back, bloody and dirty from long use — this was 
 the panorama exhibited Randolph upon entering 
 the room. 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Ruke," remarks the host- 
 ess, " I have hastened back as soon as possible." 
 
 " 'Tis all right, madam; but pardon me, 
 O'Rourke is me name, and was the name of me 
 father before me," and turning his face to one 
 side and towards Randolph, after a cool survey, 
 he adds, "Chancellorsville," emphasizing by re- 
 versing his arm and sticking out his thumb to- 
 wards the bloody bandage. 
 
 As a cavalryman, in a charge under Fitz Lee, 
 
54 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 a fragment of shell had torn a large flesh wound 
 in his back, which had secured him a furlough, 
 and he was now on his way home, on Randolph's 
 very route. 
 
 The good woman, with much sponging suc- 
 ceeded in removing the old bandage, and care- 
 fully cleansing the wound and making the nec- 
 essary applications, at last pronounced the words 
 of satisfactory relief and accomplishment, 
 " there, and don't you feel better?" 
 
 "May the blessed angels keep you, lady," 
 says O'Rourke. u Howly Mother! it is like a 
 bird I'm afther failing, and if me shoes had 
 better soles, I'd dance for your diversion an 
 Irish jig that would astonish the queen's own 
 cook; and spaking of the cook, I am not so 
 tired as I am hungry. Master Bob is a foine 
 fighter, but as a feeder, he can't draw mutton 
 where there is no sheep, nor beef where there is 
 no cattle. And, madam, have you a bit of a 
 strap, for the cart that I rode up here upon 
 jolted out the very blood and breath of me body, 
 and me waistband has grown six inches, or me 
 waist has shrunk seven, an' galluses I must 
 have; and by the powers of Howly Mary me 
 very teeth are loose entirely." 
 
 This harangue held the lady in speechless 
 wonder, and turning to one side, she threw open 
 the door to the dining-room, displaying a well- 
 
O'JRourke was Hungry. 55 
 
 served table, shining invitingly in the light of 
 the lamps. 
 
 Mr. O'Rourke's face was wreathed in smiles, 
 and so intent was his eyes upon the table that, 
 not heeding the doorstep, he came near sprawl- 
 ing upon the floor. 
 
 Strange to say, Randolph had stumbled upon 
 an aunt of Marguerite, as he found out through 
 Mr. O'Rourke's incessant talk of the late bat- 
 tle, and the u murtherin scoundrel " who fired 
 that bloody shell (needless to say the one that 
 struck Mr. O'Rourke), and knowing the rela- 
 tions existing between Randolph and her niece, 
 also of Mayne and Sadie, at her request Ran- 
 dolph told in detail of the last rites of sepulture 
 to his deceased friend in the cemetery of his 
 family in Lynchburg, of the trip with Margue- 
 rite and Sadie to their home in Rockbridge, and 
 his short visit, made so by the grief of one and 
 the sympathy of the other. 
 
 After a refreshing rest, on the next day, 
 O'Rourke having secured an old cavalry Rosin- 
 ante, Randolph bids his hostess a thankful adieu, 
 in which O'Rourke joins, with many hopes of 
 meeting again, without any lessening in the fut- 
 ure of individual shadows, they once more 
 journey west. 
 
 O'Rourke proves to be an agreeable compan- 
 ion and a fearless, dare-devil soldier. In his 
 
56 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 right hand he swings a sturdy hickory stick, 
 which is a pointer for objects of his notice, a 
 propeller for his steed, a sabre for the cavalry- 
 man, and a shillalah for the Son of Erin. 
 
 Mr. O'Rourke sings, too, but while his voice 
 is strong, it is not sweet, and his tunes run from 
 one line of ' L Lorena ' ' to another in ' i The old 
 grey hoss come a-rushin' froo de wilderness." 
 
 On one occasion the word "Wilderness" 
 seemed to revive some recollections of Mr. 
 O'Rourke, and he asks: "And, Cap., do you 
 mind that bloody bush in The Wilderness? How 
 in the devil the boys got through it wid their 
 clothes on? The horse and meself were hung 
 up, tripped up or down, and I was just enjoying 
 meself when I felt the stroke in me back." 
 
 "Don't repeat that any more, O'Rourke," 
 says Randolph; "but tell me, did you leave the 
 heels of your socks at Chancellorsville!" 
 
 "No, begorra; but I left skin enough to patch 
 them," he answers, laughing loudly and joyously 
 at his own misfortunes. 
 
 Many miles had been ridden, long hours had 
 passed, and after a profound silence, interrupted 
 only by the hoof -falls of the horses, O'Rourke 
 slowly arouses from his seeming apathy, and as 
 with the sudden birth of an unusual thought, 
 asks: 
 
 "And, Captain, is it married you are?" 
 
Two Soldiers on the Road. 57 
 
 "lam not so fortunate as yet," he answers. 
 
 ''But you have a gir-ral, I am after think- 
 ing," retorts O'Rourke. 
 
 ''And why do you think so, pray?" asks Ran- 
 dolph. "Do I sigh and sing love-songs in your 
 presence, or talk in my sleep?" 
 
 k *My experience," says O'Rourke, "about the 
 sighing and singing is limited, but sure you must 
 have a slight cross of the Yankee, whin you 
 make a guess ; for in your slape last night you 
 called 'Marguerite!' and unless she's your sister, 
 bedad she must be your gir-rul ; ' ' and a laugh 
 with the ring and force of true enjoyment fol- 
 lows the unfolding of the burden of last night's 
 discovery. 
 
 Unable to control his feelings and his surprise, 
 and blushing to his brows, Randolph tells him 
 of his betrothed; and having exhausted his 
 theme, has unexpectedly excited a feeling of 
 sympathy in the breast of the sturdy soldier, 
 which begets a desire upon the part of O'Rourke 
 to pour into the ears of his superior his own 
 marital troubles. 
 
 "I have meself some expariance in the mat- 
 rimonial market; Oi'm married," drawls 
 O'Rourke, in a meditative mood. 
 
 "Indeed; let me congratulate you — " 
 
 "Sh — top, Captain, if yer plase," cries 
 O'Rourke; "I've a wee bit to tell ye. I was on 
 
58 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 the Aist Tinnessee and Virginny railroad worruk- 
 in' on a fill in a beautiful valley. Close to our 
 shanty ould man Dobbins had as swate a little 
 farrum as iver yer eyes was laid upon. Sure it 
 was a divarsion to survey the primises; and 
 afther buthermilk, as an excuse, I wint to the 
 house, and making noise enough with the help 
 of the flop-eared house dogs to scare a banshee, 
 there came to the dure as swate a lass as iver 
 blessed the eyes of man. I got the buthermilk 
 and a fluttering under me jacket, and all night 
 long I dreamed of buthermilk and the darling 
 Kitty of the Dobbins' house. Howly Moses! I 
 was struck! 
 
 "My ould folks ran the boarding shanty on 
 the worruk, close by, and with the hilp of the 
 ould lady, who was a grate admirer of the farrum, 
 if the gir-rnl was a Protestant, we were married, 
 and a jolly jubilee it was. And we were gitting 
 along pretty well up to the breaking out of the 
 war. The ould man Dobbins and his wife were 
 Union, Kitty and I Secesh. Sometimes the 
 Yankees would overrun us, thin we were all 
 Union ; thin the Confiderates would swarm upon 
 us, in that avint we were all Confiderates; it was 
 the tormint of our lives, but it kept pace in the 
 family. But worse was to come, and the divil's 
 own hand in it. Kitty she gits converted. As 
 long as she was not converted into a nagur or a 
 
O i BowrWs Courtship. 59 
 
 Yankee, I didn't moind it. Well, thin, up she 
 goes and enlists in the Baptist Church, for the 
 war, I suppose. 
 
 "You know, and maybe you don't, but my 
 folks are Roman Catholics, and I am naythur 
 Catholic nor Baptist. 
 
 "The ould wimmin began it, and the young 
 ones jined in afther the ould ones got out of 
 breath entirely. Sure it was religion, the praist 
 and the parson they were rowing over. The 
 very bones of me ache whin I think of it. 
 There was Kitty's Ma and my Ma, and the rest 
 of the wimmin, and sure it is, I heard more of 
 infant baptism, immersion, conversion, subver- 
 sion, falling from grace, of Howly Mary, Father 
 Riley and Pastor Parker, until I was crazy wid 
 the talk. I didn't know a divil of a word what 
 version was best, whether Riley's or Parker's, or 
 whither it was disgrace or afther grace they were 
 at ; and for six long wakes it was the tormint of 
 me life. 
 
 "Divil of a word I iver said, or they would 
 have, ivery one of thim, been upon the top of 
 me back. But for the whisky hid in the straw 
 they would have been the death of me. But it 
 was no use; the battle over the infants, the wa- 
 ter howly and unhowly, got worse and more of 
 it, till me ould friend, Dennis McKelsey, came 
 along going to the war, and mounting my horse, 
 I jined him for Master Bob and the army." 
 
60 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Having reached a commanding point in the 
 road, Randolph interrupts further discourse of 
 O'Rourke, by pointing out in the distance the 
 
 steeples and housetops in the village of G , 
 
 Tenn., now only a few miles distant. Soon 
 Randolph is once more in the arms of his 
 parents, and enjoying the verbal as well as culi- 
 nary blessings of Mammy Rachel. 
 
 From her he learns that Van Horton has sud- 
 denly disappeared; "that woman" Miss F — is 
 reported engaged or married to him, and still 
 unceasingly annoys and persecutes his brother 
 with slanderous innuendoes, even worries his in- 
 nocent sister; and worse still, her maliciousness 
 has extended to his mother and father ; for the 
 the fiendish followers of Van Horton drove his 
 father barefooted in a chill winter night, and 
 tore down his very dwelling from over the heads 
 of his wife and daughter, and deliberately fired 
 upon his aged and defenceless mother. He 
 learns also that his brother, Southey, came up 
 with his command and retaliated upon several 
 of the robber gang, and made things lively for 
 awhile, and now, like wild animals at bay, they 
 stand glaring at one another, and Grod only 
 knows what next will turn up. 
 
 Randolph hears enough to make him wish for 
 peace, for the sake of the old folks at home; 
 but deep down in his bosom there dwells a desire 
 for vengeance. How often in this life does it 
 
A Special Providence. 61 
 
 appear that a special Providence protects the 
 designing wretch who is brutally reckless of 
 every principle of right, of virtue and of honor ! 
 Not many days elapse before Mr. O'Rourke 
 and Rosinante appear, considerably mended and 
 improved, and once more, adieu to home and 
 family and on the road to camp and to duty. 
 
62 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Chapter Y. 
 
 After a long and tedious journey, our travelers 
 reach Staunton, where O'Rourke disappears in 
 search of his command, and Randolph eagerly 
 seeks his own. 
 
 All was bustle and confusion of men in every 
 style of conveyance, as well as footmen, eagerly 
 pressing up the Valley, for the Army of North- 
 ern Virginia has crossed the Potomac, bent upon 
 the invasion of Yankee soil, hitherto ignorant 
 of the terrors of war. 
 
 Fortunate in finding an ambulance, Randolph 
 joined Major P , a gallant officer of the ar- 
 tillery, and rapidly drove to overtake the ad- 
 vancing army. 
 
 Learning that Ewell had crossed the Potomac 
 at Williamsport, they hurried to that point, and 
 crossing, saw the first evidences of the advance 
 righting in the many dead horses scattered upon 
 the banks of the canal. 
 
 After resting their tired horses, they pushed 
 on to Chambersburg, and passed through the 
 rear guard, being Pickett's brigade, and found 
 Col. Stuart, an old V. M. I. professor, in com- 
 mand of the place. Here, for the first time 
 
Randolph in Chambersbwrg . 63 
 
 during the war, Randolph finds and feels him- 
 self upon the enemy's soil. Soldiers in gray 
 are scattered over the streets, merely chaffing 
 some of the young ladies of the place, who, in 
 the excess of their loyalty, display from their 
 bosoms miniature specimens of the stars and 
 stripes. 
 
 Standing at the head of an alley, and in front 
 of a small two-story brick edifice, over whose 
 door was written bank, Randolph notes across 
 the street some of these ladies so decorated 
 passing through a jolly, loitering group of 
 Hood's Texans, when a long-suffering Johnnie 
 observes, rather in the manner of conferring 
 knowledge for the good and benefit of the deco- 
 rated, that his command had the unwholesome 
 reputation of storming breastworks when flying 
 the Federal flag. No answering reparte came 
 from the addressed. 
 
 No disorder occurred in the village ; no act of 
 outrage or oppression occurred during Ran- 
 dolph's stay of sixteen hours. 
 
 He has, however, one remembrance of the 
 head of that alley. Hearing footsteps descend- 
 ing the stairway of that bank, he turned and 
 feasted his eyes upon a handsome young lady, 
 evidently the daughter of an official of the bank ; 
 but oh! how short-lived his happiness, for with 
 a toss of her fair, young head, and an ominous 
 
64 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 elevation of the lips and the tip of her nose, she 
 turned for his view and edification a rear eleva- 
 tion, which he admired, of course; but from the 
 lady's pantomimic exhibition, he was left under 
 a most disagreeable apprehension that it was 
 either the new gray suit he wore, or the odor of 
 the naughty joke across the street that caused 
 the facial disturbance and the sudden disposition 
 to " about face." 
 
 There were no improper liberties taken, nor 
 unjust indignities imposed upon the citizens, 
 and Eandolph, in company with one of the best 
 known and most gallant artillery officers, spent 
 the night in the straw of a stable-loft upon this 
 very same alley aforesaid. 
 
 On the morning of July 1st he again enters 
 the ambulance and starts northward, towards 
 Carlisle, where they proposed to overtake the 
 command of General Rodes. Going three miles, 
 they ran into a skirmish between Confederate 
 cavalry and Yankee home guards. They were 
 thus turned back to Chambersburg, and drove 
 thence rapidly on the national pike straight for 
 Gettysburg. 
 
 About 1 o'clock p. m. they arrived at Cash- 
 town, and here was found the headquarters train 
 of Randolph's division. 
 
 After greeting his old companions, he rode 
 out to the main road, where Gettysburg, about 
 
Besting on Their Arms. 65 
 
 five miles distant, could be distinctly seen ; the 
 lines of the contending troops also were plainly 
 visible. 
 
 The Federal lines were being driven rapidly 
 back towards Gettysburg, and Randolph was 
 again viewing the men of Rodes repeating the 
 performance of Chancellorsville — chasing the 
 Eleventh corps of Yankee Dutch hirelings, not 
 only from the field, but to and through the 
 streets of Gettysburg. 
 
 Night fell, the Confederates victorious at every 
 point; the Federals broken and disorganized, 
 their trains driving to the rear, and stragglers 
 without number going the same way. The men 
 of Lee, worn out by long marches, laid down 
 upon their arms and slept. 
 
 All night long fresh Federal troops were ar- 
 riving, and those who had been running turned 
 back when it was discovered that none pursued. 
 
 When morning dawned, the two armies had 
 about mustered their strength, and were busily 
 engaged in disposing of batteries and brigades 
 in designated positions. 
 
 The Confederates were disposed as follows: 
 Ewell's line in and through Gettysburg, extend- 
 ing east and west and facing south; A. P. Hill 
 on his right, his line running north and south 
 on Seminary Ridge and parallel to Willoughby 
 Run and facing east, with Longstreet on his 
 
66 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 right on the same line, and facing the same 
 direction. 
 
 Round Top Mountain, on Longstreet's ex- 
 treme right, rose like a huge sentinel guarding 
 the Federal left flank, while the spurs and ridges 
 trending off: to the north of it afforded unrivalled 
 positions for the use of artillery. 
 
 The puffs of smoke rising at intervals along 
 the line of hills as the Federal batteries fired 
 upon such portions of our line as became ex- 
 posed to view, clearly showed that these advan- 
 tages had not been neglected. 
 
 The thick woods, which in great part covered 
 the sides of Round Top and the adjacent hills, 
 concealed from view the rugged nature of the 
 ground, which increased four-fold the difficulties 
 of the attack. 
 
 Little Round Top was in front of Longstreet's 
 center, and Devil's Den about a quarter of a 
 mile nearer to him, and about midway between 
 Big and Little Round Top. 
 
 About 5 o'clock p. m., Longstreet's right 
 swept forward, and after desperate fighting car- 
 ried these points — desperate hand-to-hand fight- 
 ing being displayed on both sides. At the same 
 time a portion of E well's corps charged the Fed- 
 eral forces before the cemetery, driving them off 
 and capturing their guns, and even reaching 
 Evergreen cemetery, the stronghold of the en- 
 
Heavy Cannonading. 67 
 
 emy's right; but for want of co-operation the 
 movement failed, as did Longstreet's, both fail- 
 ures being the result more from lack of sufficient 
 force. Nevertheless, night found the advantage 
 accruing to Lee's army, with Ewell in statu quo, 
 and Longstreet and Hill closed up on the Fed- 
 eral left. Another night to add to a position 
 naturally strong, to add to their force and re- 
 plenish their munitions of war, and Lee many 
 miles from his base of supplies and with nearly 
 exhausted caissons. 
 
 But there was one thing which could be truly 
 said without boasting — that the Army of North- 
 ern Virginia knew how to fight and die, but they 
 knew not what it was to be whipped. 
 
 The next day, the 3d of July, dawned brightly. 
 A spirit of quietude pervaded both armies, until 
 about the hour of 2 p. m., Randolph, being upon 
 the crest of Seminary Ridge, about two or three 
 hundred yards south of the National pike, heard 
 two heavy guns fired in quick succession. In a 
 moment there responds a crash of artillery, the 
 brazen voice of one hundred and fifty pieces, 
 answered promptly by as many more, together 
 with the hurtling of shot and shell, created a vis- 
 ion of awe-inspiring grandeur seen but seldom 
 in a lifetime, and once seen never forgotten. 
 
 In a twinkling the heavens are obscured; a 
 black cloud hangs overhead, and looking up, 
 
 D A— 5 
 
68 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 there flashes here and there in the sulphurous 
 canopy the lurid fire of varied shapes and sizes, 
 but looking straight to the front and across the 
 valley, the flames seem to rush from the muzzles 
 of the field-pieces many feet in length. 
 
 In the midst of the infernal din, Randolph's 
 ear catches the music of a full brass band, which 
 he is told is at Lee's headquarters, but whose 
 sweet tones make him for a moment forget the 
 terrible work of death in front. 
 
 But, "Look! look!!" says one, and with a 
 fearful explosion, a cloud of white-looking smoke 
 arises over the cemetery, "there goes a caisson! " 
 In a different direction the same thing occurs; 
 again a voice cries, "There goes another !'' and 
 still the carnival of death goes on. Poor horses! 
 Poor dumb creatures! Subservient to the use 
 and brutality of man, their destruction that day 
 was fearful; in one instance alone, as many as 
 eighty being killed in a battery of eighty-four. 
 
 At last the cannonading ceases as suddenly as 
 it begun, and there came the climax of the war. 
 
 Acting under the orders of Lee, Longstreet 
 gives the order to Pickett to charge, and with 
 his brave Virginians, he places himself at their 
 head, and jauntily as on dress parade he moves 
 his men over the crest and descends the slope 
 with the firmness, coolness and decision of a pa- 
 rade. The enemy in their astonishment stand 
 
Pickett'' s Charge. 69 
 
 transfixed, but for a moment, when admonished 
 Iby a sense of self-preservation, every available 
 Federal gun is trained upon his devoted band. 
 Fire front, both flanks, plunging, and cross are 
 no incentive to hasten or to unnerve those gal- 
 lant heroes; but steadily closing up, they press 
 forward with a determined, soldierly step, their 
 faces beaming with hope. 
 
 Hundreds of crimson battle-flags fluttered in 
 the breeze ; the long lines of troops with bright 
 arms flashing like mirrors in the snnlight were 
 pressing forward toward the enemy. 
 
 Here was all the " pride and pomp and cir- 
 cumstance of glorious war," that has captured 
 and fired the soiil of man in all ages, and by its 
 dread illusions turned his finer attributes into 
 heartless cruelties, and made the grim horrors 
 of this murderous art a merry-making allied only 
 to those of devils incarnate. 
 
 Now, a point is reached where the rush is to 
 be made ; the lines are closed up and massed for 
 the plunge. Here Kemper fell; then came the 
 dash, and with it a clash of steel and crash of 
 musketry in the very faces of the opposing sides. 
 Now falls the gallant Graraett-, and with the 
 thrilling yell of the charging Confederates the 
 flag of the Confederacy is plantad upon the 
 works of the enemy. Now it is that brave 
 Armistead falls, severely wounded; and the 
 
70 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 wavering divisions supporting, becoming panic- 
 stricken, broke to the rear. Instantly the Fed- 
 erals poured their hosts upon Pickett, fairly 
 enveloping him, and crushing him with the 
 weight of numbers. 
 
 The Virginians make a brave effort with cold 
 steel, but are met with a concentrated fire in 
 front and on both flanks. Still charging, never 
 dismayed, under this fire they seem to melt 
 away. They have done all that men could do, 
 and now the remnant returns, but with their 
 faces to the foe, repulsed but not whipped. 
 Slowly they returned, broken-hearted at their 
 loss and failure, but covered with a halo of glory 
 that will be with them forever. 
 
 The Federal pursuit was but a skirmish line, 
 which fell back before a few discharges of grape 
 and shell. 
 
 And thus the curtain dropped upon Gettys- 
 burg. Night fell upon thousands of dead and 
 dying, and the fate of the Confederacy was 
 sealed forever. 
 
 Grrim death reaped from the ranks of the 
 alumni of the Virginia Military Institute a har- 
 vest, ripe in all the wealth of glorious record and 
 fruitful example. 
 
 Upon this fatal field, and upon an area of al- 
 most insignificant size, lay the forms of five ex- 
 cadets — Stuart, Patton, Jas. Allen, R. C. Allen, 
 
Night After the Battle. 71 
 
 Williams and Edmonds, all dead upon the field 
 of battle, a mute attestation of their heroism 
 and their devotion to their country and its 
 cause. 
 
 The stars looked down upon the pale, upturned 
 faces of many a loved form, and Randolph, with 
 "but a slight wound, came out of camp with a 
 lantern, in search of a missing friend, accom- 
 panied by four privates, and passing through 
 the now famous peach orchard, goes directly to 
 the rock- riven slaughter pen of the Devil's Den, 
 meeting with men of both armies engaged upon 
 similar errands. 
 
 In the vain search for his friend his attention 
 is attracted to the indistinct voices of men be- 
 hind a huge bowlder, and stumbling over the 
 stones and picking his way among the dead, he 
 comes face to face with the ubiquitous Van 
 Horton, holding in his arms the limp form of a 
 man, whose feeble voice and long, white locks 
 told of suffering old age. The flickering light 
 of the lantern revealed a look of mutual recog- 
 nition. 
 
 "It is an old friend," says Van Horton, "not 
 fatally hurt, but painfully so." 
 
 Reminded of the gray locks at home, Ran- 
 dolph kneels by the side of the stricken man, 
 and offers to his lips his own canteen. A 
 draught and a sigh, and the unfortunate old man 
 
72 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 thanks him in the language and manner of a 
 cultivated gentleman, and, earnestly scanning 
 Randolph's face, requested his address. 
 
 Upon receiving it, with his gaze still riveted 
 upon him, "What?" he says, "Phil Randolph 
 of Virginia ? ' ' 
 
 More surprised than he, Randolph takes his 
 extended right hand, and in mute astonishment 
 listens to a revelation as painful as it was sur- 
 prising. 
 
 "Blessings upon you," said the wounded man, 
 "and now that I am in the hands of one whose 
 name is a household one with me, please, Capt. 
 Van Horton, secure my removal, or find Major 
 Carday, who is near, that I may receive medical 
 attention. I am safe with Capt. Randolph." 
 
 Van Horton is soon lost in the gloom, and the 
 stranger, continuing, says: "I am the father of 
 Sadie Carday, and came to the front oppressed 
 with the fear of a mishap to my only son, and 
 seeing the troops of Pickett falling back, I 
 thought that pursuit would naturally follow; 
 but I found our men in confusion, having suf- 
 fered severely in the melee, when all at once 
 your batteries opened to cover the retrograde 
 movement, and a stray piece of shell struck me 
 here," placing his hand just below his right 
 knee. 
 
 "I like not this Van Horton," said Mr. Car- 
 
U A Spy, I Presume" 73 
 
 clay, "but he appeared just in the nick of time, 
 skilfully bandaged my wound — no one paying 
 any attention to me on account of my citizen's 
 attire. What brought him here, I know not, be- 
 ing unattached, and, like myself, iu citizen's 
 clothing." 
 
 "A spy, I presume," replied Randolph, "as 
 his forte lies in that direction ; and that your 
 estimate of the man is correct, allow me to 
 say from my own knowledge that he is a 
 scoundrel, and a robber in heart and in fact. 
 But tell me, is any member of your family near 
 you, besides your son?" 
 
 "None," he answered. "My daughter is now 
 a guest of Miss Marguerite Darlington." 
 
 Thus patiently they awaited, until at last the 
 sound of footsteps was borne to their ears, and 
 a swinging light announced the looked-for as- 
 sistance. 
 
 With rapid steps Major Carday approaches, 
 and casually nodding to Randolph, laments his 
 father's unnecessary exposure, and his unfort- 
 unate condition. Being introduced, he in a 
 most cordial manner grasps Randolph's hand 
 and with a cheery "Glad to meet you, Captain. 
 Please give us a lift to the ambulance close by, 
 and we will talk afterwards." 
 
 The old man being snugly stowed away, the 
 Major turns to Randolph, and says: 
 
74 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 "Now let me thank you; you are what Sadie 
 says, 'the soul of honor,' and 'one of the best 
 fellows on earth,' " and drawing himself up to 
 his full height, fully six feet, with his bright 
 face, dark hair and eyes, just the opposite of his 
 sister, he appears as one who meant what he 
 said and was happy to say it. 
 
 With thanks Randolph acknowledged the com- 
 pliment, and tells him of his late interview with 
 Van Horton; about his sister's loss, of the many 
 noble traits of the heart and of the character, 
 and of the gallantry, and last, of the love and 
 devotion of poor Adjutant Mayne for the sweet 
 sister now with Marguerite. 
 
 To all Major Carday listens with a sad and 
 thoughtful brow ; now turning his face he meets 
 the gaze of Van Horton, and as quick as a flash 
 of lightning the tell-tale frown of a furious hate 
 mantles his face. Randolph notes the recognition 
 now for the first time of the bearer of the wounded 
 man's message. The Federal major, mindful of 
 his obligation, with becoming courtesy, thanks 
 Van Horton for his kindness to his father. 
 
 Van Horton, with the sang froid of an old 
 campaigner remarks, "I am not insensible for 
 the sufferings of my fellow-man, particularly of 
 an old friend (sarcastically), whose courteous 
 treatment under his own roof has so endeared 
 him to my heart." 
 
Van Horton de Trop. 75 
 
 "This is neither the place nor time to renew 
 an acquaintance not agreeable," says Major 
 Carday, "and I beg to bid you good-night, Mr. 
 Yan Horton." 
 
 "G-ood-night," answers the wretch, now fairly 
 aroused, backing from them and doffing his cap 
 in mock humility. "I shall be pleased to carry 
 for your friend any message of love or condo- 
 lence, for I shall see your good people soon, 
 Captain Randolph, whom I have no doubt await 
 with anxiety my happy arrival — my sweet in- 
 tended, Miss F , so devotedly loves your 
 
 brother and his pretty, little, pet sister." 
 
 Stung almost to madness, the Federal major 
 lays his hand upon his pistol, but remembering 
 the situation, calls loudly for the sergeant of the 
 guard, the picket line being in close proximity, 
 but before a search is well begun, Van Horton 
 has disappeared in the darkness. 
 
 After exchanging many regrets concerning 
 the phases of the war, the separation of friends, 
 the conflict of brother against brother, the deso- 
 lation of homes, and the ruthless destruction of 
 life and property, and mutually expressing the 
 desire of an early meeting under the shadow of 
 the white wings of peace, each returns to his re- 
 spective camp, and is soon lost in sleep. 
 
76 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 
 'Twas midnight of the 4th day of July, 1864, 
 when Randolph (who had lost his horse), seated 
 in a captured Concord coach, which was loaded 
 with delectable supplies, the fruits of the visit 
 to Pennsylvania, was driven southward along 
 the Seminary ridge in the direction of Fairfield, 
 bound for Williamsport, Md. Here the pio- 
 neer troops were engaged, with the most primi- 
 tive tools, in constructing the pontoons to cross 
 the bulk of the Army of Northern Virginia. 
 These boats were launched and floated down the 
 Potomac to Falling Waters, a crossing but a 
 few miles below Williamsport, where Lee crossed 
 his trains, artillery and his troops in safety to 
 the south bank. 
 
 Remaining late with Carter's Artillery, which 
 held the bluff to defend the crossing, Randolph 
 lost his tent, his supper and his reckoning in the 
 dense cedars, and slept under the eves of a tent 
 near by, suffering the miseries of a drenching 
 rain, and the eternal drip, drip, drip of the tent 
 till the dawn of day, when, to his disgust, the 
 familiar voice of his own messmate told him 
 
Off for Thornton's Gap. 77 
 
 that he had slept on the wrong side of his own 
 tent. 
 
 The troops again took up their line of march, 
 and their steady tramp soon brought them in 
 sight of the gallant and long-suffering Town of 
 Winchester; thence to Manassas Gap to "bag a 
 Yankee brigade," which proved too big for the 
 bag, as it turned out. The brigade consisted of 
 two army corps, requiring a night tramp down 
 by Front Royal, and a safe space of eight miles 
 away by the brawling river to rest the weary and 
 footsore men. 
 
 It was about four o'clock on the following 
 day, when the division wheeled to the left of the 
 road to go into camp, and Randolph was not yet 
 dismounted, when an order was received for him 
 to take the Pioneer corps to Thornton's Gap, a 
 distance of some five miles, to bridge a stream 
 at that place. That five miles added so unex- 
 pectedly to the march just finished, seemed to 
 grow in length as the worn-out men straggled 
 along. 
 
 But the point was duly reached, and orders 
 were obeyed, but not before Randolph measured 
 the depth of the quicksand with his horse, and 
 gained an experience of navigating an animal on 
 fence-rails from quicksand to terra fir m a. 
 
 The labor done, Randolph lost no time to gain 
 access to the hospitable mansion of Mrs. Thorn- 
 
78 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 ton, near by, and was welcomed by old friends 
 and new, of both sexes. 
 
 The heart swells with the grateful remem- 
 brance of the good cheer, the cordial welcome of 
 the sweet-faced matron, the good Old Virginia 
 mother and grandmother, with a voice that 
 cheered, and a smile that meant welcome, and a 
 dignity and firmness with sweetness that was the 
 stay of Jackson's grip upon the Valley and the 
 bolster of the wearied soldiers' courage. 
 
 Oftimes memory has lingered over the recol- 
 lections of that visit, bringing thoughts, laden 
 with prayers and blessings, for the good Old Vir- 
 ginia matron who brought "home" to a soldier's 
 heart, short though it was. Here Randolph en- 
 countered Colonel Morton Marye, who had left 
 a leg upon the field of battle, and who was anx- 
 iously awaiting the arrival of General Ewell, 
 who likewise had lost a leg. 
 
 The meeting of the two was of some import- 
 ance, as Ewell' s peg was too long and Marye's 
 too short, and an exchange of pegs was in con- 
 templation; and we are happy to add was con- 
 summated with mutual satisfaction. 
 
 It is needless to say that, though Randolph 
 had an eminent regard for General Ewell, it was 
 not supposed that inferior officers on duty were 
 recreating in brick mansions, eating chicken, 
 listening to the sweet tones of a piano, drawn 
 
Bed Tape Endorsed. 79 
 
 out by the nimble fingers of a charming lady, 
 and at the hour of retiring, to eschew tattoo and 
 taps and luxuriate in a feather-bed. A sorrow- 
 ful finale is to be recorded, and one indeed 
 divested entirely of digDity, for the General, long 
 expected, only put in an appearance m the we 
 small hours of the night, and as he entered the 
 front door our friend, Randolph, went out hastily 
 at the back door. At that time the General could 
 "cuss," and it was from a fear of extorting that 
 sort of an effort which caused the irregular exit, 
 although in later years that habit was but a rec- 
 ollection of the past. 
 
 After a tedious march, the division arrived at 
 Orange Court House, and here Randolph received 
 orders for detailed duty, and for fuller directions 
 to report at Richmond. 
 
 A government is no government without red 
 tape, and Randolph cared not how long they 
 wound and unwound their tape, so long as his 
 money held out ; for quartered at the old Spots- 
 wood, he was happy in the company of old 
 friends. There were present also many old ex- 
 cadets of every official grade, all hob-nobbing 
 and messing at the same table, and forgetful of 
 all trials and dangers — past, present and future. 
 
 Donning his best suit, Randolph seeks No. — 
 Franklin street, where a cousin of Marguerite 
 lived when last he visited Richmond before the 
 
80 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 war. Remembering vividly, too, how he took 
 the wrong direction homeward, and in the wee 
 sma' hours anent the twal, was turned in the 
 way of home and happiness from the precincts 
 of Butchertown, by a kind and gentlemanly 
 policeman. 
 
 Answering the door-bell, he was told that Miss 
 Signor was at home, and was shown into the 
 parlor, now carpetless ; the carpeting doing duty 
 now and for many days past as soldiers' blankets. 
 Soon she entered, with the ease and grace which 
 was a part of the woman. Gentle, pretty and 
 intellectual, she was a model of grace, and of all 
 the virtues that charm the heart, and exalt while 
 they charm. 
 
 Advancing with extended hand, "You are 
 welcome, sir," she said, "as all soldiers are who 
 wear the gray. But tell me, whom have I the 
 honor of addressing?" 
 
 Laughing, Randolph is in the act of answer- 
 ing, when she fairly screams: "Oh! Oh! you 
 good-for-nothing scamp ; you deserter, you fraud, 
 you everything that is naughty, where have you 
 been? What a great, long moustache you do 
 sport, and it was but yesterday the beardless 
 cadet, lost in revery of his true love, and gazing 
 at the wrong star, lost his reckoning in the 
 lighted streets of Richmond," and ceases only 
 in a paroxysm of uncontrolled laughter. 
 
Fie for Shame. 81 
 
 Randolph meekly catches the contagion and 
 joins heartily in enjoying the ludicrous picture. 
 
 "Now, Berta," pleads Randolph, "will you 
 never learn to respect the tenderness of my poor 
 heart? Think how I have suffered! Been up 
 in Yankeedom, keeping the whole nation from 
 visiting you and the seat of the Confederate gov- 
 ernment, and now you chaff me. Fie, for 
 shame ! ' ' 
 
 "A truce it is," she answered; "but tell me, 
 what did you bring from the raid?" 
 
 "First of all, my dear lady, these beautiful 
 high-topped boots; a handsome and gallant cav- 
 alry officer had no further use for them in the 
 place he was journeying to; a man of our Pio- 
 neer corps borrowed them, and being unable to 
 get a No. 9 foot into a No. 7 boot, Secretary 
 Trenholm's scrip made them mine." 
 
 "And is that all?" she asked. 
 
 "Oh, no," answered Randolph; "scores of 
 wagons went into Pennsylvania loaded with 
 hungry, footsore and barefooted men. Our 
 wagons returned loaded with food for man and 
 beast, and clothing, and our men shod to a man. 
 As for our staff, we have flour, cut-loaf sugar, 
 tea, coffee, apple butter, and, please don't faint ! 
 a whole barrel of whisky. Ah! your lips grow 
 moist! " 
 
 "At least, not for the whisky," she answers, 
 
82 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 "but men exposed, I suppose, must needs have 
 it, and it must be so refreshing to the poor 
 wounded; but I must say that our okra and 
 sweet-potato coffee, when compared to the 
 simon-pure, would be more apt to bring water 
 to the eyes than to the lips." 
 
 Mindful of the object of his visit, Randolph 
 says: 
 
 "Tell me of your sweet little coz, Marguerite. 
 I will share my choicest rations with you if yeu 
 will tell me 'heaps' of my little sweetheart." 
 
 ' ' What a valiant lobbyman in the councils of 
 Cupid!" says Berta. "You would bribe me; 
 
 you judge me as Fannie P judged yourself 
 
 when a cadet — ' that the only way to reach your 
 heart was by your mouth.' However, I have 
 news, and good news. Would a surprise hurt 
 you, or are you too well guarded! " 
 
 "Oh! no," answers Randolph ; "Cupid flies, 
 and the little fellow has a reckless way of flying 
 his darts ; videttes would be useless, and I am 
 too old a soldier to be frightened. On with the 
 surprise, and earn your bribe." 
 
 "Then, let me tell you," says Berta; "Mar- 
 guerite is here in Richmond, and Sadie with 
 her. Marguerite's brother Charlie is in the 
 hospital, wounded in one of the many fights of 
 the Stonewall brigade, and the girls are down 
 with him now, with what delicacies we could 
 
The Introduction. 83 
 
 rake and scrape together — some bought, some 
 begged and some contributed, and the sum of 
 all not much to brag of. ' ' 
 
 More than satisfied with the success of his 
 visit, Randolph, in company with Berta, ap- 
 proached the hall door, when, as if by magic, 
 the door flies open, and the ladies enter, Mar- 
 guerite in advance. Berta quickly, in jest, in- 
 troduces ''Miss Darliugton — Captain Price," and 
 quick as thought Randolph puts his arms around 
 the little lady, and says: " Yes, yours without 
 price, my little one!" 
 
 ''Oh, how you frightened me!" answers the 
 willing captive, and the upturned lamp shows a 
 lovely face, radiantly beautiful, with crimsoned 
 cheeks and sparkling eyes, shaded by hair as 
 black as midnight, and lips that to Randolph 
 seemed to be lost in the luscious fragrance of 
 their sweetness. 
 
 For a time questions of no importance to the 
 reader are made and answered, with astonishing 
 rapidity, till the hour of 12 calls for the linger- 
 ing ' ' Good-night ! ' ' 
 
 'Tis late and the city is wrapt in sleep, when 
 Randolph reaches the Spotswood, where he 
 meets his old fellow-cadet, Colonel Slaughter, 
 of the — th Virginia, and together they find a 
 banker, a boyhood friend, and together enjoy 
 a supper ' ' fit for the gods, ' ' the memory of which 
 
84 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 is green and glorious of to-day; but whose mixt- 
 ure of every variety of stimulants, a vivid mem- 
 ory long remembering, involuntarily causes the 
 hand to feel the head for an aching recollection 
 of that joyous event. 
 
 Their stomachs were empty, their appetites 
 good, and delicacies never saw during the war; 
 the temptation was great, and though the Colo- 
 nel badly limped from the effects of a bullet 
 through the thigh, they bore their burden like 
 men, and safely laid their forms, increased by 
 many pounds avoirdupois, upon their hotel 
 beds, and dreamed of feasting, and arousing 
 early in search of the nearest cut to the water 
 tank. 
 
 Breakfast next morning is hastily dispatched, 
 and Randolph looking "tired," but armed with 
 his promised bribe, is soon ushered into the par- 
 lor, and anxiously awaits the ladies. 
 
 As the group file in, Marguerite's quick glance 
 betokens the knowledge of a night of short 
 rest, but condones the offense, because has not 
 the offender just passed .through the valley of 
 starvation and the shadow of death! Surely 
 one wagon train could not last always. 
 
 In this group now seated around Randolph, 
 happiness reigns supreme; quick wit and bright 
 repartee gladdens each heart, and shortens time, 
 that even the sombre dress and sad face of 
 
"Died of a VP 85 
 
 Sadie cannot subdue, for in 1864 death was a 
 familiar event, and had knocked or was knock- 
 ing at the door of thousands of Virginia homes. 
 
 Belles, beaux, marriages, the war, the army, 
 the conduct of the officials, "Examiner" com- 
 ments, all were discussed, till a hush came from 
 the ringing of the front door-bell, and almost 
 immediately, two officers of the Artillery and 
 Engineer Corps, respectively, entered, and were 
 introduced as Captain Barton and Lieutenant 
 Rumford ; when the ladies, almost in a chorus 
 in their eagerness to secure the aid of the new 
 arrivals in denouncing the remark which Ran- 
 dolph had let fall just before their arrival, that 
 he was in sympathy with the "Examiner," then 
 published in Richmond. Miss Berta claiming a 
 * ' court-marshal " ; " charge, treason " ; " speci- 
 fications, to be forthcoming." 
 
 Captain Barton claimed ignorance of the 
 whole matter, to which Miss Berta answers: 
 
 "Have you not seen Editor John M. Dan- 
 iels' editorial saying, 'That if the Confederacy 
 fell, there should be inscribed upon its tomb- 
 stone, 'Died of a V,' ' referring to the angle 
 formed by Jeff Davis' Mississippi troops at 
 Buena Vista!" 
 
 "Captain Randolph hears the General Order," 
 says Lieutenant Rumford, "let the court be 
 opened." 
 
86 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 "Certainly," answers Randolph, "the court 
 does not propose to deny me the right of 
 thought, and of expression, and most assuredly 
 I have committed no crime." 
 
 Quickly Marguerite speaks in defence of her 
 lover, and says : ' l Perhaps fawning now may 
 lead to preferment, and though silence is golden, 
 it may lead to oppression or defeat, mayhap to 
 both." 
 
 "Well and bravely spoken, my guardian an- 
 gel," says Randolph, "and now let me divest 
 your minds of one error, and recall to your 
 minds a few facts of history." 
 
 "The assumption of the form of the letter V 
 was not the outcome of the ingenuity of Col- 
 onel Davis, but simply the occupying with his 
 lines the natural crest and conformation of the 
 hill commanding the intervening valley. Fur- 
 thermore, in looking over the field of our disas- 
 ters, do you not perceive the direct origin of 
 Daniels' ominous words! Look at Price, the 
 idol of his army, beheaded at Richmond, and 
 succeeded by Pemberton whom none knew, nor 
 wanted. Behold the result! a retreat from 
 Holly Springs to Vicksburg — locked up, and 
 caught like a rat in a trap, not counting the 
 bloody blunder of Big Black River. See again 
 Joe Johnston wearing out the attacking army in 
 detail by leading him away from his base of 
 
Retrospection. 87 
 
 supplies, choosing his own ground, pounding 
 him well, and cutting his communication off 
 from his base of supplies; leaves him to repair 
 damages, fix up and inarch again to receive the 
 same dose. Yet, at Richmond, his head falls 
 in the imperial basket, and a gallant officer not 
 equal to the emergency, with the executive pre- 
 diction, that he was one to 'strike a manly 
 blow,' steps in, with a new programme, and 
 with a campaign marked only by the carless- 
 ness or stupidity of allowing a whole army to 
 pass near his sleeping troops, and with the 
 bloody defeat of Franklin, nothing else is to be 
 noted." 
 
 With flashing eyes he asks: "Do you see the 
 terrible contrast with the ' manly blows ' struck 
 at Resaea, Kennesaw, Altoona, and upon every 
 hill-top on the line of Johnston's retreat?" 
 
 A pause, and Randolph turns to Berta, and 
 says: "I really think that I will have you put 
 in the stocks, and to further punish you, when 
 I get married, I shan't call you cousin." 
 
 "Wait, Captain," she answers, "till that time 
 arrives; 'there is many a slip, etc., etc' But 
 let us drop such questions and talk of our own 
 dear selves." 
 
 And now the usual chaff of young people, 
 bent upon enjoying the brief moments of relief 
 from camp, soon dissipates the hours, and the 
 
88 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 young men rise to leave, and Randolph last, for 
 the words spoken to Marguerite are not many, 
 but all of love and devotion — for the partings of 
 those days were sometimes good-byes forever. 
 The three young men slowly sauntered to- 
 wards the Capitol grounds, separating there for 
 their respective hotels or quarters, and upon the 
 arrival of Randolph at his room, he found a 
 curt note scrawled upon a strip of paper: 
 
 "Waited here two hours to deliver orders; back at ft 
 a. m. to-morrow." "Adams, Orderly.'''' 
 
 This ended his revery, and he retired; the 
 old negro refrains which he had heard so often 
 on the Mississippi steamers ringing in his ears, 
 "Good-bye, my lover, good-bye." 
 
An Old Friend. 89 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 
 Promptly Orderly Adams appears with his offi- 
 cial missive, and saluting, retires to the sacred 
 precincts of his bomb-proof post in depart- 
 ment, and Randolph is left to read his orders. 
 Being of a private nature and for the good of 
 the service, and totally irrelevant to the issues 
 herein, we simply state that the duty assigned 
 was arduous, dangerous, and requiring nerve 
 and good judgment to perform with safety and 
 satisfaction . 
 
 Armed with an order to draw for a coadjutor, 
 Randolph thought of none more worthy or 
 acceptable than his former fellow - traveler, 
 now Sergeant O'Rourke — and as future events 
 showed, none better pleased to serve, or better 
 able to fulfill the duties required. 
 
 Bidding an affectionate adieu to the angels on 
 Franklin street, and draining a parting cup with 
 his friend and companion of the memorable 
 
 feast, Colonel S , about 8 o'clock a. m., upon 
 
 a lovely day, the two soldiers were seated on 
 board the cars en route to their destination, via 
 Lynchburg, and to a point some forty miles 
 beyond. 
 
90 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 Arriving: late at night, our travelers disembark 
 on the south side of the road, and, attracted by 
 a glimmering light some distance away, proceed 
 thither, guided, as it were, by this star of hope. 
 In the days of his boyhood Randolph had been 
 a guest at the hospitable mansion now sought, 
 and whose venerable, though eccentric, host was 
 his father's steadfast friend; but time had erased 
 the map which memory should have retained, 
 and they stumbled along as though perfect 
 strangers in a strange land. Anchoring at the 
 gate, and clinging thereto with the energy of 
 wrecked mariners, superinduced rather by the 
 expected appearance of some wicked and vicious 
 quadruped of the genus canine, they venture a 
 timorous ' ' Hello ! ' ' which brings a watchful 
 man-servant to the door, who bids them enter. 
 
 Here was the enjoyment of a blissful rest, and 
 rising early, Randolph, standing upon the front 
 porch, drinks in once again, and perhaps for the 
 last time, the lovely scenery from as lovely a home 
 as is found in any valley of Virginia. The house 
 is situated upon the very crown of a gentle eleva- 
 tion, and is built of brick masonry, being one- 
 story, with attic lighted with dormer windows ; 
 of a rambling style, but with large, airy rooms 
 and a spacious hall, both front and rear, sup- 
 plied with broad verandahs, whose columns were 
 entwined with running vines and climbing roses. 
 
The Peaks of Otter. 91 
 
 In the yard, and to the right of the mansion, 
 was the office, a two-room building, used when 
 pressed. Between the two houses was a large 
 granite block, about two feet deep, two feet wide 
 and six feet long, having two basins chiselled 
 therein, for the accommodation of those who de- 
 sired to bathe their face and hands in the waters 
 of a lovely spring hard by. 
 
 The host, a model farmer, as he was a model 
 man, of massive build and sunny face, with long, 
 flowing locks, now tinged with the frosts of more 
 than seventy years, was nevertheless very demo- 
 cratic in his manner of dress. 
 
 Eandolph gazed in silent admiradon, and with 
 thoughts of inexpressible happiness, at the beau- 
 tiful landscape spread out before him. Once 
 again he sees the familiar friend of his child- 
 hood, the Peaks of Otter, rising like a giant in 
 strength and grandeur upon the right ; the val- 
 ley in front, with its varied verdure of corn, oats, 
 tobacco, and its pasture of lowing kine and 
 bleating sheep; and far beyond, in the distance, 
 the long sweep of deep blue of the ridge of that 
 name, bluer by contrast with the azure of the 
 skies. 
 
 All this was much enjoyed, until his revery 
 was abruptly broken by a friendly (if it was 
 heavy) hand that fell upon his shoulder, and 
 looking up, the kindly gaze of his old friend 
 
92 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 was met with the demand, "And where did you 
 come from!" 
 
 The answer was easy, and with that easy grace 
 which the old man, with even his osnaburg 
 shirt and red bandana handkerchief swung 
 around his neck, could not diminish. With such 
 grace and welcome, he takes Randolph by the 
 arm and leads him into the sitting-room, where 
 a massive sideboard of mahogany is graced by 
 elegant cut-glass decanters, all, need we say, 
 well filled. Sugar, in meager quantity, was 
 there, and on account of its rarity sparingly 
 used. A glass of freshly gathered mint stood 
 convenient for use. 
 
 Bidding his guest to partake, the good old 
 man in an incessant strain talks of the war, his 
 troubles, and of old times, until stopped by the 
 draining cup; when by many coughs and much 
 clearing of the throat, Randolph is made very 
 positively and painfully aware of the fact that 
 Sergeant O'Rourke is present and "not in it," 
 but evidently desirous of joining in the libation. 
 
 The old Captain, for such he has been called 
 for these many years, sees the object of commis- 
 eration, and, without further to do, cries, "Come, 
 come, sir! and join us;^we are only ahead; you 
 are on time, and can catch up by adding to the 
 quantity." 
 
 "I will, and thank ye," says the Sergeant, 
 
Mr. O'Bourke Imhibes. 93 
 
 and, evidently mindful of the words of his host, 
 he fills his glass to the brim, and, bowing with 
 becoming gravity, he swallowed the contents 
 without drawing a breath, and wiping his mouth 
 with the back of his hand, cleared his throat and 
 said: "Bether than the stuff you were afther 
 bringin' back from Carlisle barracks, Captain." 
 
 "You have drank some of the Captain's ten- 
 year-old apple brandy, O'Rourke," answered 
 Randolph. 
 
 "The saints be praised! The blessid apple 
 brought trouble and misery enough to auld 
 Adam, and busted up the family circle entirely, 
 but sure Captain the juice of apples loike that 
 would make a paradise anywhere without Adam 
 in it. Sure I fale it in the botham of me 
 brogans." 
 
 It is not long before the household are seated 
 at breakfast, and to the almost utter demorali- 
 zation of Randolph, a young Lieutenant S , 
 
 and an old ex-cadet, drops in, who is spending 
 a sick leave, having enlisted in Mobile, Ala., 
 while engaged in the noble and exalted position 
 of sampling cotton in that port. 
 
 For the poor old devastated Virginia of that 
 period, the table partook of a fascinating repast ; 
 and the event seemed to culminate in a meeting 
 of friends, whose mutual records and reminis- 
 cences, when brightened and enlivened and 
 
94 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 brought back to memory, would make the old 
 walls resound to the peals of joyous laughter. 
 All of a sudden this was estopped by the dispo- 
 sition of our high-stepping and fancy lieutenant, 
 actuated by the push and energy of those we fear 
 as friends, and dread not as enemies. His de- 
 sire was to speak, and none knew it better than 
 poor Randolph, and none dreaded it more. 
 Turning his adolescent figure to face our honest 
 old host, he pertly says: 
 
 "Captain, how many bushels of wheat do you 
 raise? 77 
 
 Answer — ' l Five thousand . 7 ' 
 
 Question — "How many of corn! 77 
 
 "Eight thousand. 77 
 
 He asks of horses, cattle and sheep, and pa- 
 tiently the old man answers this catechism ; 
 whereupon this puerile ghost of a soldier, not 
 knowing the ground whereon he treads, says in 
 a spirit of advisement: 
 
 "'Cotton is King, 7 Captain; you should sell 
 out and go south, and raise cotton, sir. 77 
 
 Never will I forget the look of mingled disgust 
 and contempt which absolutely paled the old 
 Captain 7 s face (ordinarily red), as he turned 
 upon the young man with the expression : 
 
 "D — n you and cotton, too! I wouldn't -live 
 out of sight of the Peaks of Otter for all the 
 cotton states of the Southern Confederacy. 
 
O'Bourke is "Dry." 95 
 
 'Cotton!' 'Cotton! 777 And with a sniff and a 
 snort, lie attacked his plate with renewed energy. 
 
 Needless to say, noue enjoyed the rebuff more 
 than Randolph, whose experience in the cotton 
 region taught him the truth of the old man's 
 words, and he felt that it was merited rebuke to 
 the recreant fealty of a stupid Virginian. 
 
 It becomes necessary here to purchase horses 
 if possible, and as the old Captain in his patri- 
 otic enthusiasm has disposed to the Confederate 
 government all of his available stock, it was de- 
 cided that Randolph aud the old Captain should 
 ride some six miles across the country westwardly, 
 to secure the necessary mount, while O'Rourke 
 should hold the office down during their absence ; 
 a servant also being sent to beat about among 
 the immediate neighbors for horses, which, if 
 sent, were to be examined and valued by Ser- 
 geant 7 Rourke, now the supreme officer in com- 
 mand. 
 
 For at least an hour after Randolph's depart- 
 ure, our good Irish sergeant walked that yard, 
 never passing the sitting-room door without 
 thinking of the gladdening contents of the big 
 glass decanters upon that mahogany sideboard. 
 At last he rests before the door, holding his right 
 elbow in the palm of his left hand, with his 
 right gently carressing his much admired goatee, 
 and concludes his reverie thus: "I'll do it, 
 
96 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 begorra!" and walking in, he fills a tumbler to 
 the brim and quaffs his spirits with the gnsto of 
 one who has the right, and of right enjoys it. 
 Resuming his walk, his heart warms to himself 
 and his fellow-man, and his legs beginning to 
 tire, he hies him to to the office, which hardly 
 affords him a chair before he is accosted by a 
 plain, young, farmer lad, whom he invites to 
 "take a seat and sit down." 
 
 In the absence of any chair, the lad promptly 
 says, " I ain't got any seat." 
 
 "The Divil ye havn't!" answers O'Rourke. 
 Ye have a sate, and just put it on the steps." 
 Now feeling, with the help of his libation, his 
 importance as an inspector and purchaser of 
 government horseflesh, he proceeds to catechise 
 his visitor : 
 
 First, spitting high and far, and with an as- 
 sumption of much grandeur, he asks: "Phwat's 
 yer name?" 
 
 "Isaac White, sir," the lad meekly answers. 
 "Was wounded, one of Jenkins' cavalry; father 
 refugeed near here, from below Petersburg, and 
 my pa sent me here to bring her up." 
 
 "And sure, is she well put up, and will she 
 stand the cavortin' of the boss!" says O'Rourke. 
 
 "Of course she is, and of course she will; and 
 moreover, she is as bright as a daisy," he an- 
 swered. 
 
Mr. O'Rourke is Hospitable. 97 
 
 "An' now ave yer plase," said Mr. O'Rourke, 
 ''an' how does she move?" 
 
 "Like a queen, and there is not her match in 
 the country," answered the lad. 
 
 "She must be a honey, be jabers," said 
 O'Rourke; "and sure it will take an ambulance 
 to bring the Confident money to buy the queen. 
 Now, tell me, is she quiet, gentle and well 
 handled."" 
 
 "Oh, Lord bless you! yes; you jest see my 
 ma and pa oust an' you'll be satisfied of that." 
 
 "An' how auld is she?" asked O'Rourke. 
 
 Isaac answered, "Just fifteen." 
 
 O'Rourke collapsed. "Howly Moses! trot her 
 around, and let me auld eyes behold the queen 
 of fifteen years that can bate the Captain's seven- 
 year-auld, that he rode away from here this 
 blessid morn. 'Arrah! go away wid ye! Phwat 
 do yer take me fer, yer spalpeen?" 
 
 Upon which Mr. Isaac White rises in sheer 
 stupefaction, not knowing whether the man was 
 crazy or upon the road thereto. 
 
 But the climax was reached when he was in- 
 vited, with proper flourish of arms and much 
 dignity of demeanor, to walk in and take a 
 "drop," and then hitch the queen to the rack till 
 the Captain should arrive. 
 
 Whereupon the scales dropped from the eyes 
 of Mr. White, and he proceeded to enlighten 
 
98 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 Mr. O'Rourke that, at the request of his parent, 
 he had accompanied his sister, of fifteen sum- 
 mers, to enter the employ of his host, and that 
 she is now with the old man's good lady, and 
 would not enjoy being hitched to the horse-rack. 
 
 "Ouch! Murther!" said the Sergeant. 
 
 "Kape, what I've said to ye to youre darling 
 self, me lad ; there comes no good to be afther 
 prating around yer own saycrets; and moind 
 ye, its bether by lots and gobs to be hitched to 
 a rack, rather than a wrack, which often hap- 
 pens. Now will ye take a drop! That's a man 
 as ye is. Now run, me honey, and give the dear 
 girrul me love and dootiful regards intirely." 
 
 Which Mr. Isaac White, judging from his 
 haste, is anxious to do. 
 
 Upon the arrival of the two Captains, some 
 hours later, with two led horses, they find the 
 gallant Sergeant slumbering hard and heavy, 
 and seeking refreshment, soon discover the 
 cause, when sounding the decanters. 
 
 A night of rest, a hearty "Grod bless you," 
 from the host, and once more our travelers are 
 upon the road, and for many days are engaged 
 in carrying out the orders of depart- 
 ment, until caught in the advance of the troops 
 of General John Morgan, composed entirely of 
 cavalry, and which were moving in the direction 
 of Greenville, East Tennessee. 
 
"Jine the Cavalry." 99 
 
 With the sapient advice of Sergeant O'Rourke 
 to "jine the cavalry" for a brief season, and 
 favoring the idea with a hope of seeing the 
 faces of the old folks at home, Randolph readily 
 assents; and riding ahead of the command, 
 they are astonished beyond expression, to find 
 Morgan and staff ahead of them without escort, 
 in a country if not hostile at least more than 
 doubtful, and filled with Union sympathizers. 
 
 Randolph and his faithful attendant soon ar- 
 rive, and is welcomed to the bosom of his 
 parents, but it was accompanied with such a 
 burden of fear and anxious expectation, that 
 acting upon the information of his parents that, 
 the Yankees were near the place in force, and 
 that his capture or death was liable from reck- 
 less exposure, they waited until darkness had 
 fallen, when mounting their horses, they quietly 
 rode away to a safe hiding-place, near the vil- 
 lage, and in easy view. 
 
 Early next morning our adventurers were 
 aroused by the noise of beating hoofs upon the 
 highway, and the rapid firing of carbines ; the 
 flying horseman which flashed by, and to the 
 rear, being recognized as one attached to the 
 body of General Morgan, quickly aroused the 
 suspicion in the minds of the two experienced 
 soldiers that this was the sequel of yesterday's 
 recklessness. 
 
100 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Remaining en perdu, Randolph argued that 
 having accomplished their object, the Yankees 
 would retire upon their main body. At night 
 they returned to the village and' learned the par- 
 ticulars of the death of Morgan. 
 
 Mrs. C. D. Williams, a most elegant, courteous 
 and hospitable lady, and for many years a widow, 
 was the magnate of the village; the possessor of 
 a large, two-story brick mansion with basement, 
 surrounded with ample grounds, having a well- 
 kept garden of flowers and fruits, running down 
 and extending to the main street of the village 
 At one corner of the garden, and fronting on 
 this street, she had constructed a small church, 
 dedicated to the use of the Protestant Episcopal 
 denomination ; in the diagonally opposite corner, 
 and near the house, was the grape arbor, in 
 which Morgan was killed. 
 
 The maudlin story of Morgan's betrayal by a 
 woman of the name and family of his hostes>. 
 has been a story of no foundation in fact. It was, 
 however, ravenously seized upon by "thai 
 woman," Miss F , who saw another Ran- 
 dolph to punish, and another victim for her 
 venom. And even in after years, periodically 
 did this poor she-devil visit her imbecile rage, 
 until at Atlanta, the poor brute who was paid to 
 many her and move away from home, put her 
 
General Morgan's Mistake. 101 
 
 where bad women trouble not, nor bear false 
 witness against their neighbors. 
 
 It is an historical as well as an indisputable 
 fact, that Randolph's father, and all the Williams 
 family, besought General Morgan not to take the 
 risk of stopping alone in this hospitable man- 
 sion, to which he paid no attention, believing it 
 to be idle and inane fear prompting the advice. 
 Strange to say, the one most innocent of all 
 knowledge of the presence of the object of all 
 this parade, and of the representatives of the 
 parties herein mentioned, that this absent and 
 unsuspecting member of a family above all re- 
 proach, should suffer from the poisoned breath 
 of suspicion. Perhaps, the outcome of the vivid 
 imagination of a frightened soldier, who left his 
 General to be shot down like a dog, while he 
 took safety in flight ; or worse still, the relentless 
 persecution of a vicious woman, debarred from 
 her old associates, a social pariah, whose insane 
 desire for revenge had deadened every sensibility 
 of gentleness and virtue, which are the crowning 
 glories of her sex. 
 
 The absolute truth of history is as follows, 
 vouched for by Confederate officers who did not 
 run away — men of truth and courage — backed 
 by the knowledge of a member of the Confeder- 
 ate Congress, and attested by the Federal Com- 
 mander, General Alvan C. Gillem. who com- 
 
102 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 manded the Yankee forces that made the raid, 
 and in every way a truthful gentleman, as he was 
 a gallant soldier: 
 
 Vioksburg, Miss., Feb. 13, 186-. 
 Esq. — Dear Sir: In answer to your letter inquir- 
 ing as to the time when and from what person I had in- 
 formation of the whereabouts and movements of General 
 Morgan, on which my advance and the action of my forces 
 were predicated, and especially whether any member of 
 the family or household of Mrs. C. D. Williams, directly or 
 indirectly, conveyed to me any information on the subject, 
 I have no hesitation in answering. My command encamped 
 at Bull's Gap on the 31st of August, 1864. In the afternoon 
 of the 3d of September, Colonel J. K. Miller brought a boy, 
 some twelve years of age, to my tent. The youth informed 
 me that his name was Leidy, that he lived with his parents 
 in Greenville, eighteen miles from Bull's Gap; that at 12 
 m. that day Osman's Confederate scouts had entered 
 Greenville; that, fearing the loss of his mare, he had 
 sought to escape, but had been captured; that after re- 
 maining in Greenville till the arrival of Vaughan's brigade, 
 Osman's scouts had advanced with that brigade to Park's 
 Gap, where the brigade commanded by Bradford en- 
 camped; that the scouts then advanced in the direction of 
 my camp about a mile, and stopped at a farm-house for 
 dinner, when the boy escaped through a cornfield. These 
 soldiers and officers said that General Morgan would spend 
 the night in Greenville. Such was the intelligence of the 
 boy that I knew it was Morgan's purpose to attack me, 
 and I determined to take the initiative and attack him at 
 daylight. A brave, intelligent citizen guided us by the 
 Arnet Gap road, to the rear of the left of the enemy's po- 
 sition, the main body of my force advancing at 10 o'clock 
 at night by the direct road to Greenville. Colonel Ingerton 
 turned the enemy's left and getting into his rear, entered 
 Greenville without encountering a picket. Information 
 
The Truth of History. 103 
 
 was obtained from a trustworthy woman that Clark's bat- 
 talion and McClung's battery were on the further side of 
 the village, and that Morgan and his staff were guests of 
 Mrs. C. D. Williams. Receiving this information, Colonel 
 Ingerton ordered Major Wilcox, with troops of the Thir- 
 teenth Tennessee cavalry, to charge into the village and 
 secure Morgan. This order was executed with spirit and 
 dash. Before Wilcox's command arrived at Mrs. Williams' 
 house, its inmates were aroused by the firing in the streets 
 and at the stables where General Morgan's orderlies, with 
 his horses, were sleeping. The General and his staff, half- 
 dressed, rushed out of the house and found the streets, on 
 all sides, filled with National cavalry. In the melee and 
 whilst attempting to escape through the garden, pistol 
 in hand, and without being recognized, General Morgan 
 was shot with a carbine, and instantly killed, by Sergeant 
 A. J. Campbell, Thirteenth Tennessee cavalry, who was on 
 horseback some eighty yards distant from Morgan, at the 
 southwest corner of Mrs. Williams' lot. Sergeant Camp- 
 bell did not know who the person was that had been shot 
 by him, nor was the body recognized as that of General 
 Morgan until the papers on his person were examined, 
 nor will this appear strange when it is known that he was 
 dressed in light blue pants, without cap or coat. It has 
 been charged that General Morgan was shot after his sur- 
 render. The assertion is not only wholly groundless, but 
 under the circumstances impossible. The soldier who fired 
 the shot was at least eighty yards distant, and the wound 
 clearly demonstrated that the ball entered below the right 
 shoulder and came out near the left breast. 
 
 Such are the facts connected with General Morgan's 
 death. Neither Mrs. Williams nor any member of her 
 household gave me any information concerning the move- 
 ments or position of the rebel troops upon which I pre- 
 dicated the movements of my command. It is very strange 
 that such a rumor should have gained circulation, when a 
 son of Mrs. C. D. Williams was present with General Mor- 
 
104 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 gan and serving on his staff. It has been claimed that a 
 member of Mrs. Williams' household conveyed to me at 
 Bull's Gap information of the arrival of General Morgan in 
 Greenville. This report is utterly false. The only infor- 
 mation received is set forth in this letter. About the time 
 Wilcox's brigade entered the village I attacked the enemy 
 in front vigorously, compelling Bradford's brigade to fall 
 back until it came upon Ingerton's command, when it 
 broke and fled in confusion. The news of Morgan's death 
 was rapidly spread by members of his escort, who escaped 
 from Greenville, which probably accounts for the rapid re- 
 treat of his center and right with scarcely an effort at 
 resistance. After the engagement, the body of General 
 Morgan was properly cared for by the captured members 
 of his staff, aided by my own staff. It was my intention to 
 send his remains to his friends at Lexington, Ky., but in 
 deference to suggestions of some of his staff the intention 
 was changed, and the remains were sent through our lines 
 under a flag of truce. 
 I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 Alvan C. Gillem, 
 Brevet Major General, U. S. A. 
 
 And thus is one of the errors of the times dis- 
 covered and corrected; one of those strange 
 falsehoods, born of malice, jealously or ignor- 
 ance, and oftentimes used as an assassin's dag- 
 ger to stab in the dark or to murder the inno- 
 cent. Under all circumstances Morgan paid the 
 penalty of his temerity, ami the Confederacy 
 mourned the loss of a gallant champion. 
 
 Randolph, with his trusty sergeant, now turn 
 their horses' beads once again towards the camps 
 of Greneral Lee, who hard pressed by the over- 
 
A Best. 105 
 
 whelming numbers of Grant, is falling back 
 and concentrating upon Richmond and Peters- 
 burg. 
 
 Oppressed with anxiety for the loved ones at 
 home, and fearing the continued efforts of the 
 
 relentless Miss F , whom now he believes 
 
 will stop at nothing, he dismisses O'Rourke near 
 the Natural Bridge, and hies him to the home of 
 his lady-love for a brief sojourn. 
 
106 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 Chapter YIII. 
 
 The bright sun of a November morning shines 
 down upon a body of men, clad, for the most 
 part in the uniform blue of the United States 
 army. A few negroes ride with them, seemingly, 
 upon equal footing with the others. Each man 
 has fastened some article of household goods to 
 his person or his horse, and by the quick, jog- 
 trot, the frequent turning of the head to peer 
 over the shoulder, the anxiety of the rear files 
 to keep well closed up, all gave evidence of a 
 marauding crew, fearing pursuit, and seeking 
 safety for their booty and their own worthless 
 hides. 
 
 The commanding officer is none other than 
 our ubiquitous Van Horton, who, drawing rein, 
 checks his horse, until a sergeant — a slim, tow- 
 headed mountaineer of some twenty-six summers 
 of wild-cat distilling — draws near, and as they 
 are now ascending a steep ascent of the mount- 
 ain side, Van Horton addressed this Sergeant 
 Lamb (and a blacker sheep never browsed upon 
 the hillsides of East Tennessee) as follows: 
 
 "We have cleaned Cedar Valley this time, and 
 with better luck. In the first raid Old Randolph 
 
The Doctor Hanged. 107 
 
 did give us some trouble, aud knocked over 
 Sallie Jenkins. I always told her that men's 
 clothes and grabbing too fast would be the death 
 of her. I wonder if the pious old man won't 
 get worried when he finds that he has shot a 
 woman!" 
 
 "Not much!" answers the sergeant. "She 
 had on pants, and the pants were blue, and that 
 ended it; he and all his whelps, male and fe- 
 male, will rejoice." 
 
 "We got his old partner," says Van Horton, 
 "the doctor, this time for sure. But, I say, 
 Lamb, the old man was nearly gone the last 
 time you strung him up ! ' ' 
 
 "Yes," says Lamb, with lamb-like simplicity; 
 "he took lots of choking for a big, fat man, and 
 an old man at that ; but if I hadn't kept it up 
 your saddle-bags would be lighter by a mite. 
 When Major Tdiii Randolph finds raid No. 2 
 such a success, and his sweetheart's old daddy 
 houseless and homeless, what shall we look 
 for?" 
 
 "I have thought it all out, Lamb, while your 
 mutton-head was resting in sleep. I have prom- 
 ised my precious stand-by, Miss F , to re- 
 member the whole Randolph family. I have 
 done up the old man and woman, as you know, 
 for you helped me; we have turned Major Tom's 
 little darling out of house and home ; and when 
 
108 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 we have put our little captures in a safe place, 
 we are going for the young man next. My good- 
 ness! how Miss F hates that young man!" 
 
 "It seems mighty funny, too," says Lamb, 
 for I remember the time when she was mighty 
 sweet on Tom Randolph. Both were 'stuck up,' 
 away out of my company; but I noticed how 
 she hung on to him — 'twas Tommy this, Tom- 
 my that, Tommy to church, ball — and nothing 
 unless Tommy was there! " 
 
 Laughing with the reckless abandon of a 
 heartless ruffian, A r an Horton, placing his hand 
 familiarly upon Lamb's shoulder, and in a con- 
 gratulatory strain, says: 
 
 •• Lamb, on yesterday you gave the old doctor 
 a dose, and an experience of one h , but mul- 
 tiply that by four, and still that place is one of 
 luxury in comparison to the hellish fury of a 
 woman scorned, and she will spare neither the 
 male nor female of the Major's name." 
 
 Having reached a place both shaded and well 
 watered, and having put some thirty miles be- 
 tween themselves and their place of plunder, a 
 halt is called, and the men are soon engaged in 
 preparing for supper and a night's rest. 
 
 No pickets are out, for Van Horton knows 
 \v<41 that all the Confederate cavalry are drawn 
 in and massed near Morristown, for the whole 
 force of Federal horsemen are moving on them, 
 
The Bide to Morristovm. 109 
 
 accompanied by a strong body of infantry, and 
 if, by hovering near, and any mishap should 
 occur to Major Tom Randolph, how easy it 
 would be to turn it to his own account and carry 
 
 the glad tidings to Miss F , to receive her 
 
 thanks and reap the reward of his prowess. 
 
 When all were sleeping, and midnight was 
 passed, two silent forms arose almost simultane- 
 ously, and, with cat-like tread, took their way 
 to the head of the gorge, where, beneath the 
 jutting stone, whose moss-covered top was 
 shaded by a huge old oak — a landmark of the 
 region, they hid away the gold and jewels of 
 the good old doctor so lately plundered. 
 
 Before the sun had risen these mountain thieves 
 were in the saddle and traveling direct towards 
 Morristown. Arriving shortly after mid-day 
 near the village, and not knowing the situation 
 of affairs, an ebony-hued contraband was di- 
 rected to resume his dress as a field hand, and 
 make his way on foot, to gather up all the in- 
 formation possible and return to the troop in 
 their hidiug. 
 
 In a country thinly settled and densely tim- 
 bered, with few roads to direct the wayfarer, it 
 was an easy matter to find a hiding-place, even 
 for a brigade, who might look down with perfect 
 security upon an army without a thought of 
 detection. 
 
110 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 Night had settled down, and the stars came 
 out in the sky, shining brightly from their azure 
 canopy; the crisp winds of November sighed 
 among the dead and dying leaves, rattling in 
 their dryness, and then falling from the bough 
 which they had gladdened and decorated in the 
 bright and happy sunshine of summer. The 
 stillness of night is of that nature which brings 
 to the mind sweet visions of love and peace, and 
 to the heart a spirit of thankfulness for all the 
 good gifts of heaven. No such effect is produced 
 upon the motley crew lying wrapped in their 
 blankets in this mountain valley. 
 
 The picket on duty is startled by a sudden 
 burst of flame from a valley far away to the west ; 
 the heavens are brilliantly illumined for a few 
 moments, then fade away. "Only another reb 
 burned out," he thinks, when suddenly the cry 
 of an owl, "hoo! hoo! hoo! " is heard. Knowing 
 the signal, he answers, and soon the crashing of 
 the leaves and twigs under the heavy tread of 
 footsteps betokens the arrival of the expected 
 contraband. 
 
 Having imparted his information, which is 
 exhaustive, having visited both sides; the camp 
 is soon wrapt in profound slumber — except one 
 man, whose thoughts are busy of the morrow. 
 Hate, jealously, love, if such as he could love, 
 the hope of plunder, all passed in rapid sueces- 
 
In Front of Morristown. Ill 
 
 sion through his heated brain, until nature, 
 wearied at the strain came with a downy relief 
 which soon lapsed into the hard breathing of a 
 troubled sleep. 
 
 Morning finds the column of Van Horton in 
 motion, and straggling in some semblance of 
 military order they find themselves in front of 
 Morristown and between the lines of the Federal 
 and Confederate troops, and as the Federal cav- 
 alry were moving up to the attack, encouraged 
 by the presence of overwhelming numbers, not 
 from choice, but from an unfortunate necessity, 
 our plundering crew were caught, as it were, 
 between the devil and deep sea, and facing 
 towards the village, prepared to join the attack. 
 
 As fate decreed, Major Randolph's battalion 
 was posted just beyond the crest of the hill, the 
 crest itself being occupied with a row of houses 
 principally those of business ; and being anxious 
 for the fray, the Major had ridden into an empty 
 shed-room, and, looking through an aperture, to 
 his astonishment and infinite gratification, he 
 sees before him the cowardly band of traitorous 
 neighbors and the well-known person of their 
 leader. 
 
 Riding back, he tells the glorious news, and 
 his men, with quickened pulse, take firmer grasp 
 upon carbine and sabre, and all feel that the day 
 of reckoning is at hand. 
 
112 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 The Federal cavalry cautiously approach, 
 driving slowly the gray-clad skirmishers before 
 them ; when amid the booming of artillery and 
 the crash of musketry, the bugles of the Con- 
 federates rang clear and thrilling upon the morn- 
 ing air, and with flashing sabres and rush of 
 gallant steeds, they bear down upon the Fed- 
 eral advance. The shock causes a sudden re- 
 coil, when Major Randolph's battalion, gallop- 
 ing to the front, pour in a volley from their 
 carbines at close quarters, which nearly annihi- 
 lates the partisan band of Van Horton, and un- 
 horses him under the very sabre of Randolph, 
 who is spared his death or capture, for the son 
 of our good old doctor so lately plundered, with 
 a yell of fury, clove his unprotected head with 
 one stroke of the sabre. 
 
 In the smoke and confusion, a fresh regiment 
 of Federal cavalry came like a whirlwind upon 
 the little band now fighting unequal odds, crush- 
 ing and overwhelming them. Still Randolph 
 cheered his men by voice and deed; to the com- 
 mand to surrender, he utters no reply; with 
 a pistol in each hand, he fires away; when in 
 admiration and magnanimous pity, an officer 
 again demands a surrender. Alas! too late. 
 Wounded already — with bowels torn, a sabre 
 wielded with a strong arm, descends upon his 
 shoulder, and Major Randolph falls, to be 
 
The Street Word, "Mother." 113 
 
 crushed under the iron-hoofs of charging squad- 
 rons. 
 
 One more hero gone to rest ; one more home 
 made sad and desolate, and one more heart 
 to grieve of hope cheerished, now lost and gone 
 forever. 
 
 The Confederates are beaten back, and a 
 faithful soldier, neighbor and companion of 
 Major Randolph, having never left his side, 
 takes his mutilated body to a house near by, 
 doing all that man could do to ease the last mo- 
 ments of his dying chief. With all his agony, 
 no word of complaint comes from this gallant 
 soldier. Now and then a frown of pain would 
 distort a face always wreathed in pleasant 
 smiles, a face at all times attractive — but now 
 clad in the palor of death. 
 
 At midnight, when all was stillness, a move- 
 ment of the wounded officer aroused the nod- 
 ding Rogers, who, leaning over the quiet form, 
 heard a gentle sigh, and then a murmur, in 
 which the sweet word of "Mother" was spoken, 
 and then all was still. The hunted spirit had 
 gone, winging its flight where there are no more 
 battles, and where the voice of the slanderer and 
 calumniator is never heard. 
 
 An old "Knoxville Register," of November, 
 1864, lies spread out before me, yellow with age, 
 and rumpled with folding and worn in creases. 
 
114 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 With heavy heart and tearful eyes I read the fol- 
 lowing obituary : 
 
 " Major Thomas T. Randolph, Battalion, Tennessee 
 
 Cavalry, Vaughan's Brigade, was mortally wounded near 
 
 Morristown on the 15th. He was born in , Virginia, 
 
 and was but 26 years of age, when he nobly yielded his life 
 for the sacred cause of Southern independence. 
 
 "He entered at the commencement of the war, and was 
 a faithful soldier to the close of his life. From June last 
 until his battalion was transferred to East Tennessee, he 
 was with General Early in the Valley of Virginia, and par- 
 ticipated in all his hard- fought battles. 
 
 "His parents reside in G . 
 
 "At the time he received his mortal wound he was in the 
 advance, charging the enemy. With his last breath he ex- 
 pressed the willingness with which he submitted to the sac- 
 rifice of his life in defense of his oppressed country. 
 
 "Surely his noble patriotism will embalm his memory in 
 the hearts of his countrymen, and the heroism of his death 
 be a lasting reproach to his detractors in /i/e." 
 
 I lay the tattered memory away, and again 
 resume my pen. 
 
Retrospective. 115 
 
 Chapter IX. 
 
 We will go back to a period of only a few short 
 weeks previous to the events detailed in the last 
 chapter. 
 
 It was at the close of a pleasant September 
 day, for summer yet lingered in the lap of fall, 
 and now the crimson rays of sunset were re- 
 flected with a softened splendor, in the cool, 
 shimmering depths of the river, where it winds 
 softly past the home of Marguerite, and so down 
 to its junction with the historic old James. 
 
 Two people, in a gaily decked canoe, drifting 
 quietly with the stream, felt the beauty and im- 
 pressiveness of the hour. Need we tell the 
 reader that the parties are Randolph and the 
 fair Marguerite? 
 
 A long silence is broken by Randolph remark- 
 ing, "I cannot believe that this is our last even- 
 ing together ; this week has been so like a dream 
 — a very happy dream to me. I shall miss you 
 so much when absent." 
 
 The maiden flushed faintly, but did not an- 
 swer, and there was silence again between them, 
 but in those dark and lustrous eyes there was a 
 suggestion of unshed tears. 
 
 D A— 8 
 
116 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 They had reached the bank, and she had risen 
 and turned her face so that he could not see it ; 
 he put out his hand to help her from the boat, 
 and her's rested on it as he stepped on shore. 
 Slowly ascending the bank, they crossed the 
 main road running along the river, and made 
 their way to the lovely cottage nestling upon 
 the mountain side, the home of sweet Mar- 
 guerite. 
 
 As they were passing an old trysting-plaee, 
 a seat of woven twigs of hickory, Randolph, 
 still holding the hand of Marguerite, drew her 
 gently towards this place, seated her, and turn- 
 ing a gaze both ardent and sad, said: "And this, 
 perhaps, may be our last and only meeting. We 
 have loved so long, and I have fed my thoughts 
 night and day with sweet memories of happy 
 moments passed, and happier ones I hope to 
 <-<>me. Marguerite, make not this the ending of 
 all — let me this evening call you by the sacred 
 name of wife ! ' ' 
 
 "No! no!" she answers. "I cannot marry 
 you now; t'would break my heart to send you 
 to the front alone, and I would be a burden in 
 camp; a dutiful daughter, you know, makes a 
 dutiful wife, and to obey my parents' command, 
 prompted always by the love and welfare of 
 t heir offspring, has always been the pride of my 
 life and the safeguard of my happiness." 
 
A Squaw Bride. 117 
 
 "Does he object to my being a soldier, or is it 
 that my means are too limited?" asks Randolph 
 in rather a sneering tone. 
 
 ''Now yon are cruel in your anger; it is 
 neither' ' ; and — and here she breaks down and 
 hides her face and tears in her handkerchief, 
 whereupon Randolph melts and pronounces 
 himself an incorrigible stupid and a brute be- 
 sides, and with an humble heart and contrite 
 spirit he begs forgiveness, and is happy again 
 to see the sweet face of her whom he loved so 
 dearly smiling upon him in forgiveness of his 
 ill-timed language. 
 
 "Father does say that you have made your 
 home out West, and the people out there are 
 so wild and desperate that he would not like 
 to see me living in the midst of such a motley 
 assemblage of such men and Indians — like a 
 squaw in fact"" 
 
 At this timid and sapient revelation, Ran- 
 dolph is convulsed with laughter. The Margue- 
 rite of his vision, she of his heart, she of his very 
 presence, "a squaw ! ' ' The idea is too ridiculous, 
 and again he makes the welkin ring with peals of 
 laughter ; and feeling in the ecstacy of his mirth 
 that a demonstration is necessary to establish his 
 claim as frontiersman, he fairly scalps the maiden 
 in his effort to kiss the cheek now crimson with 
 blushes at the unseemly elation. 
 
118 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 " Shall I go and see the Governor!" he asks. 
 
 "No, not yet," she answers. U I shall never 
 give my love to any other but you. do back to 
 your command ; love me always as you do now ; 
 let me hear from you often. Your country first, 
 myself afterwards. Oh! if you knew my heart, 
 you would feel the bliss of another life, free 
 from war, absence, and the dread of danger. 
 1 will pray for you and — but here comes Sadie ; 
 do be cheerful and say nothing of the past. 
 
 Slowly approaches the sunny-haired little 
 maiden, and reaching the lovers, she takes both 
 hands of Randolph, and looking him steadily in 
 the face, with melting eyes and lips that tremble 
 with emotion, she says: "I have heard from 
 home, and my father has so many kind words to 
 say of you; he knew not that I should see yon, 
 but in his name I thank you so kindly for your 
 good services in his behalf. What can I ever do 
 to repay you ? ' ' 
 
 u Don't mention it, Sadie; glad to hear that 
 the old gentleman got safely home ; there is noth- 
 ing which I would not do to make you happy." 
 
 "Oh, this war! Sufferings without number, 
 anxieties, starvation and death!" says Sadie. 
 After a pause she Lells them " that tea is quite 
 ready, and after partaking it 1 want to read to 
 you the expression of my thoughts, so beautifully 
 penned by 'Daisy,' a lady of Bristol, Tennessee. 
 
" You're Been Crying." 119 
 
 In the meantime we'll adjourn to the parlor 
 where Captain Randolph can read my father's 
 letter, and you, Marguerite, can go and bathe 
 those pretty black eyes. You've been crying." 
 
 " You are in error," says Randolph, very sol- 
 emnly. "It is I who should show traces of re- 
 cent tears. Marguerite insists upon my being a 
 squaw-man." 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 "Why, a squaw-man; isn't that plain 
 enough?" answers Randolph. "Wouldn't Mar- 
 guerite grace a tepee f Think of her gorgeous 
 trousseau of a bandana handkerchief and a red 
 blanket ! Let me disabuse you ladies of this East- 
 ern idea, for beauty, elegance and refinement, 
 the West, yes, the Far West, furnish parallel ex- 
 amples of excellence in knowledge and refine- 
 ment, and frequently outvie their Eastern 
 sisters." 
 
 Randolph's panegyric upon the West is here 
 interrupted by the announcement that tea was 
 served. 
 
 When the family are seated once more in the 
 parlor, Sadie insists upon reading the poetry 
 heretofore referred to as her thoughts and her 
 prayer, and in a sweet, distinct voice read as 
 follows : 
 
120 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 "Implora pace, Oh, our Father! 
 
 Listen to us now, 
 While in earnest supplication 
 
 Before thy throne we bow; 
 Death rides forth amid the storm, 
 
 And war's red lightnings blaze, 
 Dark clouds, and gloomy shadows fall, 
 
 And dim life's brightest days. 
 
 "The brow of Mars is wreathed in fame, 
 
 And the shining laurel bound 
 With the hair of dead men, dyed in blood 
 
 From many a ghastly wound; 
 The wail of childless parents 
 
 The insatiate monster claims, 
 With shriek of helpless womanhood. 
 
 And the village home in flames. 
 
 "The ruthless shot, with hatred winged, 
 
 Swift rushing through the air, 
 Tears the limbs of age and youth, 
 
 Nor spares the strong and fair; 
 Homes once the scene of beauty's spell 
 
 Now desolate and drear; 
 Where joy and plenty once did reign 
 
 Now woe and want appear. 
 
 "Life seems a dream — a horrid dream — 
 
 Of naught but care and pain, 
 From which we'd give a world of wealth 
 
 To wake in peace again; 
 Our land one scene of grief and sin, 
 
 A wrathful, rolling sea; 
 Oh! Father, guide our nation's helm 
 
 From every danger free. 
 
 " Hush the storm-lashed billows — 
 Let us not longer grope, 
 But give us o'er the darkened foam 
 
Imp! or a Pace. 121 
 
 The bright day-star of hope. 
 Hear us! Oh, our Maker! hear us! 
 
 Turn the leaden cloud away, 
 And show us the soft ' silver lining,' 
 
 That foretells the coming day. 
 
 "We would ask no selfish joy, 
 
 Nor pleasure's boon implore, 
 But that the news of battle's woe 
 
 Might wring our souls nomore. 
 Grant us Faith to bear us up 
 
 Till death's dark hour is o'er. 
 Remove thy chastening rod, and give us 
 
 Hearts to love Thee more. 
 
 " We have scorned the Shepherd's fold 
 
 And wandered far away, 
 And cannot hope that we deserve 
 
 The mercies that we pray. 
 Yet, spare us, Father, for the sake 
 
 Of Him who died to save, 
 And rescue our dear Southern land 
 
 From slavery's dismal grave. 
 
 " Oh, dry the eyes of those that weep 
 
 For the loved ones gone ; 
 Soothe children's cry, and woman's wail, 
 
 And man's expiring groan; 
 Turn back the ruthless hireling foe, 
 
 Let war's fierce tumult cease; 
 Stretch o'er us Thine almighty arm, 
 
 Oh, God! we ask for peace!" 
 
 Thus finishing, she sadly says: "It looks hard 
 for me to quote the 'ruthless, hireling foe,' 
 when my good and noble brother is enlisted in 
 the ranks of the invaders, and I a Yankee born; 
 
122 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 but when I remember that all I loved was 
 snatched from me by a bullet from the rifle of 
 an imported foreigner, fighting for money, I feel 
 half rebel." 
 
 The host, from his easy chair, which his aged 
 form holds down with 250 pounds of solid flesh 
 and bone, his hands clasped before him and his 
 thumbs revolving in concentric circles, thus 
 breaks the pause: 
 
 "I admire your verses, Sadie, as I admire 
 you; they breathe a sweet perfume of peace and 
 piety. Since Jackson's death, our old neighbor 
 and friend, I have thought more about a peace- 
 ful solution of all our troubles ; with his life went 
 all my hopes of freedom and success." 
 
 "Let us not bring camp-talk to this charming 
 circle," says Randolph; "we are surfeited else- 
 where. I will gladly volunteer to escort Miss 
 Marguerite to the piano to cheer our hearts with 
 sweet song." 
 
 The music which once won the heart in col- 
 lege-boy days again lingers in the ear and thrills 
 the soul with memories of happy moments in 
 days long past; the hours fly swiftly by, and 
 late the "Grood-night" is spoken, and stillness 
 reigDS in "Rose Cottage." 
 
 Early next morning Randolph arose, and, 
 wandering aimlessly among the shrubbery, he 
 espied a moving object coming down the river 
 
One More General Killed. 123 
 
 road. It proved to be a man, and nearer still 
 it proved to be a soldier, equipped with knap- 
 sack and blanket. 
 
 To the question of "What command?" the 
 soldier halted, and gracefully saluting, answered: 
 
 "Company K., 1st Regiment of Troops, and 
 
 that being lately transferred, was on his way 
 to report to Captain Randolph at Petersburg." 
 
 "But Captain Randolph is a member of the 
 
 staff of General R , and I am the Randolph, 
 
 and will leave in a few hours for my post." 
 
 "The stranger answered that " Captain Ran- 
 dolph is no longer on his staff; your General 
 was killed in the Valley ; he died like a soldier, 
 with his feet in the stirrups and in front of 
 battle." 
 
 The gallant hero dead! The friend of his 
 boyhood, and of his manhood, gone forever 
 from his gaze. His eyes grew moist, and the 
 helpless spirit of the inner man cried out in 
 agony, "Thy will be done! " 
 
 Bidding the soldier to await their breakfast, 
 the solemn meal is soon dispatched, and but 
 few hours elapse before they are steaming to 
 Petersburg and its grim trenches, bidding defi- 
 ance to Grant and his hosts. 
 
124 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 Chaptek X. 
 
 Fate, with some, and the "decree of an all-wise 
 Providence" of another, has been the ready 
 method of thousands in solving the cause or 
 effect of a momentous occurrence in man's 
 life; but to the hard thinker and the more 
 material mind there seems to be "a missing- 
 link ' ' in the solution of the extraordinary facil- 
 ities afforded the viciously wicked of evading 
 death, and oftener of securing a fortunate and 
 happy deliverance from impending danger. 
 
 It is an adage that "the good die early," but 
 a great many die early, and it does not follow 
 that all that die early are good ; and perhaps the 
 bad ones who linger along are given more time 
 for redemption by a kind Providence. Let us 
 hope so, for it seems that neither Fate nor 
 Providence had decreed that Van Horton should 
 die on that bloody hillside at Morristown. And 
 we shall proceed to follow this worthy, after his 
 fall, when his troop was routed by Major Ran- 
 dolph's battalion. 
 
 Badly hurt and faintly breathing, he was care- 
 fully moved to one of the houses of the village, 
 and after weeks of wavering between life and 
 
A Perfumed Invitation. 125 
 
 death, lie was at last able to be transferred, and 
 was accordingly forwarded by train to Washing- 
 ton, D. C. Emerging from the hospital a shadow 
 of his former self, his forlorn appearance as- 
 sisted by his artful skill in deception, enabled 
 this Union officer to parade his wounds and his 
 person for the admiring gaze of the social circles 
 of Washington. 
 
 With the good living and charming festivities 
 of Washington, Van Horton was soon himself 
 again, and as the winter was fast drawing to a 
 close, his thoughts naturally turned towards the 
 reorganization of his band, and the means of 
 replacing those who were left on the hillside at 
 Morristown. 
 
 While quietly seated in his apartment, his 
 war-like schemes are suddenly dissipated by a 
 timid knock at the door, and in answer to the 
 invitation to enter, a messenger appears and 
 hands Van Horton a daintily perfumed note r 
 which proved to be an invitation to attend an 
 entertainment at the residence of Mr. Courtnay. 
 There were to be tableaux vivant, music and 
 dancing. 
 
 Knowing Mr. Courtnay to be among the 
 wealthiest of the wealthy, one of the largest army 
 contractors and a power at the throne, an ac- 
 ceptance was written immediately. 
 
 The hours went by with wearisome step, but 
 
126 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 the moment came at last, and alighting from his 
 carriage, his person arrayed in the gorgeous uni- 
 form of a colonel of cavalry, he steps upon the 
 Brussels carpet, laid down from the curl) across 
 the broad sidewalk, and enters the brilliantly 
 lighted parlors of the lately-fledged monetary 
 lordliug, where his eyes are dazzled at the flash 
 of many lights, the lovely hues of silks and 
 satins, the beautiful array of ferns, flowers and 
 plants, while decorating rest the wearied eyes 
 with their soft, deep green; while the ears are 
 assailed with the chatter of men and women, 
 varied with the merry laugh of some happy 
 maiden, or with the inharmonious haw! haw! 
 haw! of the opposite sex, but all chastened and 
 subdued by a splendid orchestra, who sit in 
 improvised orchestral seats before a large cur- 
 tain. 
 
 After a formal introduction, Van Horton lays 
 siege to the eldest Miss Court n ay. whose stately 
 figure, bright gray eyes, and light-blonde hair, 
 has had the effect of adding a percentage to the 
 value of her inheritance in the eyes of her gal- 
 lant escort and new-born admirer. 
 
 Turning to his companion, Van Horton says: 
 "Fresh from the scenes of bloodshed, and the 
 tameness and manifold sorrows of the hospital, 
 what a glorious feast for the eyes and for ( im- 
 pressively) the heart," and looking tenderly 
 
Van Horton's Modesty. 127 
 
 down into the eyes of the lovely woman by his 
 side, he adds: "For one so humble as myself, 
 without prestige or record, I might say that it 
 all far exceeds my deserts." 
 
 "Your deserts!" she echoes. "Colonel Van 
 Horton, how can you say such things? Is it to 
 your modesty, or are you not endeavoring to 
 presume upon the ignorance of your company? 
 Can I not read? Have I not ears to hear? Ah! 
 The vanity of man." 
 
 Pardon me the suspicion of ignorance," he 
 answers, "and least of all any doubt of the 
 power of your eyes, and I thank you for your 
 kindness in imputing to my modesty that which 
 might have been more properly set down to my 
 ignorance." 
 
 With a face beaming with animation, she says: 
 "Do you pretend to say that you are ignorant of 
 the fact that you have been promoted to the 
 rank of colonel, and that your gallantry has 
 been mentioned by special order f^ 
 
 u Ah! " he answers, " it is all the mere routine 
 of a soldier's life," and showing an unconcerned 
 air for the honors heaped upon him, which he 
 calculates will impress his companion with the 
 nobleness of his soul, which seeks only the glory 
 and maintenance of "the flag," he leads her to 
 a seat where the tableaux can best be seen, as 
 all are now being seated, attracted by the an- 
 
128 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 nouncement, followed by a grand overture by 
 the orchestra. The curtain rises on 
 
 Scene 1. "Deserted." A grief -stricken 
 mother kneels by the bedside of a sick child; 
 with disheveled hair and eyes uplifted, she im- 
 plores Heaven's help for a worse than widowed 
 woman, and for the safety of her suffering child. 
 A little boy with golden ringlets falling upon 
 his shoulders, stands near, gently fondling his 
 mother's hair, while the scattered ornaments of 
 the room show a confusion born of misfortune 
 and pent-up sorrow. The outside scenery is of 
 an English cottage home, nestling in a wealth 
 of shrubs and flowers and creeping vines; its 
 trim walk, its diamond-glazed windows and 
 wealth of colors, contrasting so dismally with 
 the interior. But not on this was VanHorton's 
 eves riveted, but upon a. little sign-board which 
 read: 
 
 "TO MELROSE ONE MILE." 
 
 Van Horton looks with bated breath and 
 startled interest, when the soft voice beside him 
 remarks: "Lovely, isn't it ? My cousin volun- 
 teered her services and promised this a success; 
 I am so pleased that you are interested." 
 
 "Indeed I am interested," he answers, and 
 with a voice strangely altered, he asks: "And 
 to what has this scene a reference — a mere fancy 
 of the brain, I presume!" 
 
Tableaux Vivant. 129 
 
 "I cau only refer you to my Cousin Sadie; she 
 is the author and originator of all; she is a 
 great favorite of my father." 
 
 u Ah! really," he replies, and silence follows, 
 until is loudly announced : 
 
 Scene 2. u False in Lore and False in 
 War." To the left of the stage and right of 
 the audience was a man, an almost facsimile in 
 size, age and appearance of Van Horton, kneel- 
 ing in the attitude of a lover pleading his suit. 
 while bending over him in all the glory of a 
 triumphant coquette, stands no less a person 
 
 than Miss F , of doubtful fame ; old men 
 
 and women and young girls kneel with uplifted 
 hands holding jewels and money as offerings, 
 while young children cower in fear behind 
 them — with slow music the curtain falls. 
 
 "Your cousin has a genius for the lugu- 
 brious," says Van Horton. "Is this the end."' 
 
 "Oh, no; only one more scene," says she. 
 Why do you not applaud with the rest? I 
 am sure it is beautiful, and Sadie has worked so 
 hard." 
 
 He evades an answer by asking: "And who 
 pray, did you say was the gifted author of our 
 tableaux!" 
 
 "It is my cousin, Sadie Carday. Why she is 
 just lovely; so meek and gentle, and besides 
 she is just out of the rebel lines, but her gallant 
 
130 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 and loyal brother is the treasure under our roof, 
 and condones all of Sadie's rebel proclivities." 
 
 Van Horton feels the sand giving away be- 
 neath his feet, First, Sadie Carday here, whose 
 very tableaux were studied events of his life; 
 and now her brother appears upon the scene, 
 who is spoken of in the language of pride and 
 affection and so studiously expressed, thus leav- 
 ing him hopeless and helpless in his artful and 
 
 wicked designs. And Miss F , when and 
 
 how came she here? This, and much more 
 flashed through the wondering brain of the 
 treacherous Van Horton. 
 
 Oh, man! wait and see! Heartless and brood- 
 ing crime begets a multitude of woes, that all the 
 efforts of wealth and intellect cannot still, and 
 seldom assuage. 
 
 "I will introduce you after the next piece, " 
 says Miss Courtnay, "and I flatter myself that 
 you will surely fall in love," and immediately 
 the tinkle of the bell is heard, and there is an- 
 nounced: 
 
 Scene 3. The Fruits of Slander and Woman's 
 Hate. The lights are burning dimly; a dark 
 shadow falls upon the scene; slow, dirge-like 
 music falls faintly upon the ear. An aged man 
 and woman are bending in mute despair over all 
 that is left of their noble soldier boy, while a 
 beautiful woman, with her long, golden tresses 
 
Van Horton Dismayed. 131 
 
 falling over her shoulders kneels in prayerful 
 attitude at his feet. The background is a well- 
 executed scene of a wrecked and ruined home. 
 
 The make-up of the figures are of Sadie's cre- 
 ation, and are known to herself, and more 
 especially to one other, and that "one other" is 
 Van Horton, who, with all the callowness of his 
 robber-heart, has suffered an agony of mingled 
 wrath and hate. Well does he know that Wash- 
 ington is no place for him; but, first, he must 
 know what brought Sadie here, and, with that 
 end in view, he casually remarks to Miss Court- 
 nay: 
 
 "And does your cousin reside here, or is she 
 only visiting!" 
 
 To which she replies : ' ' Only a visitor, as her 
 brother, who, by hardship and exposure, is now 
 confined to his room in this house, needs the 
 attention of so sweet and skilful a nurse." 
 
 And now the curtain falls, the representations 
 are ended, and the guests are rising from their 
 seats and scattering over the spacious rooms in 
 quest of friends and enjoyment. All seems 
 confusion, and happily for Van Horton, he finds 
 a suitable occasion to accomplish his end. 
 
 Suddenly he remembers "that urgent busi- 
 ness, official of course, demands his attention at 
 this very hour ( looking at his watch); except 
 for the appointment previously made, he could 
 
 D A— 9 
 
132 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 not find it possible to tear himself away, but 
 duty, imperative duty alone, could cause him to 
 deny himself the happiness of his present com- 
 pany, with whom he had so much enjoyed the 
 delightful representations which had just been 
 given." 
 
 And with much more of the same stuff, before 
 Sadie could put in an appearance, our gallant, 
 newly fledged colonel has dropped a crisp shin- 
 plaster into the ready hand of the obsequious 
 porter, who politely hands him his chappeau 
 and helps him into his ample overcoat. 
 
 Seated in his carriage as it whirls him to his 
 quarters, his thoughts are troublesome ones, 
 and he asks himself over and over again: "How 
 came these things known to Sadie — by letter or 
 in person?" 
 
 Verily, the way of the transgressor is hard. 
 
 When Sadie enters she is overwhelmed with 
 congratulations, but when meeting with her 
 cousin there is a mystic recognition, that inde- 
 scribable look — part surprise, part contempt, and 
 another greater part of " there, didn't I tell you 
 so," which only a woman can express without 
 lip or tongue. 
 
 Then bursting into laughter, Miss Courtnay 
 relates the conversation of the doughty Colonel 
 — his ignorance of Miss Sadie, his enjoyment 
 of the scenes, and his sudden call to duty. 
 
The Imposter Squelched. 133 
 
 To all of which Sadie listens with the greatest 
 attention, and remarks: 
 
 "We have squelched the hateful imposter, 
 and my Southern friend, Marguerite, will have 
 an interesting, as well as instructive, budget of 
 news to impart in her next letter to her intended. 
 I am so glad that I posted you so well as to the 
 character of the man. You must have played 
 your part admirably." 
 
 "What a strange coincidence that you should 
 be thrown into the society of this man's deserted 
 wife!" says Miss Courtnay. 
 
 "Not at all," answers Sadie; "there are 
 thousands making inquiries at the bureau at 
 which my father presides, and when this par- 
 ticular inquiry was made ' Van Horton' was the 
 middle name used and not the surname, and 
 getting from the lady his description, I placed 
 him in a moment. My greatest wonder is how 
 such a nice woman could cross the ocean for 
 such a trifling fellow." 
 
 "Let the man go," says Miss Courtnay, "and 
 let us enjoy the ball." 
 
 "I wish the ball was over," says Sadie, with 
 an air of fatigue. "I shall not dance; but, mark 
 my words, 'imperative duty' " ( Sadie says this 
 with marked emphasis) "will cause Colonel Van 
 Horton to leave Washington before the flag rises 
 over the dome of the capitol tomorrow." 
 
134 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 And leaving their cosey corner, they mingle 
 with the happy throng. 
 
 And true to Sadie's prediction, before 12 
 o'clock next day the Colonel is steaming towards 
 Sherman's army marching on to Atlanta. 
 
Grand Old "Cockade City: 1 135 
 
 Chaptek XI. 
 
 Nevee before in the history of nations is there 
 presented a spectacle of such pure and unfalter- 
 ing devotion, such grandeur of courageous suf- 
 fering, and such sublimity of sacrifice as was 
 presented by the citizens and troops defending 
 the gallant old Cockade City of Petersburg, Vir- 
 ginia. 
 
 With four millions of negroes behind them, 
 encouraged by every art and appliance of a 
 cunning and relentless foe to deeds of violence, 
 of arson, plunder and murder; with the ships of 
 a nation a century old blockading their ports 
 and harrying their coast, a new-born Confeder- 
 acy, of itself and by itself, struggles for life and 
 liberty. 
 
 The unequal struggle still goes on. The winter 
 of '64-65 is a hard one for the Army of Northern 
 Virginia, poorly fed and poorly clad as they 
 were ; still there is no lack of faith in the success 
 of their cause, nor thought of surrender. If a 
 thousand Yankees are slaughtered, two — yes, 
 five thousand more are ready to supply their 
 places from the criminals and slums of Europe ; 
 but if one hundred Confederates are lost, who 
 
136 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 are to fill their places? Nearly true Avas the 
 Yankee General's remark, that "They had robbed 
 the cradle and the grave." 
 
 The bulk of the Confederate army is occupy- 
 ing the City of Petersburg and vicinity. Grand, 
 old Petersburg! Her gardens now are torn with 
 shot and shell, her houses razed and crumbling 
 under the incessant fire of the enemy, her help- 
 less and infirm exposed to all the hardships of 
 war's most fearful trials, and. added to all, is the 
 gaunt figure of want,. which stalks in their midst 
 with threatening mien, and the grim monster, 
 Death, reaps with both hands from war and 
 famine. 
 
 The lines confront one another, extending 
 from the Weldon railroad, on the right, around 
 the city, and following the line of the Richmond 
 & Petersburg railroad and east of it, to and 
 about the City of Richmond. 
 
 The works of both armies are upon an exten- 
 sive scale, and seem almost endless when viewed 
 from a single point. Well-equipped batteries 
 peer out from their embrasures in forts, re- 
 doubts and salients, connected with trenches and 
 parapets, affording protection to the troops lay- 
 ing behind them. 
 
 Now and then a solitary bastion fort of the 
 Yankees stands out in an isolated position, 
 mounting its heavy siege guns and flying its big 
 
Mail, Here! 137 
 
 garrison flag — a mighty hedging machine — to 
 accomplish by numbers and hunger what cannot 
 be done by feat of arms. 
 
 Randolph has been here now many weeks, and, 
 early one morning, as he emerges from an ad- 
 dit some twelve hundred feet long, to whose 
 mine, at the end of it, the Yankees were offered 
 many inducements to approach, he unexpectedly 
 and most gladly meets an old fellow-cadet, Gen- 
 eral Lane, who now with his infantry brigade 
 supports the big guns of Battery 45, served by 
 a detachment of the glorious old AVashington 
 Artillery, and enjoys some moments of conver- 
 sation and happy reminiscence. 
 
 Having met this command before, Randolph 
 notes the appearance of their ranks, thinned to a 
 skeleton by battle, sickness and hard service, and 
 leaves for his camp in a saddened frame of mind 
 
 Tired, hungry and low-spirited, he sits wearily 
 down in his tent to await the call of "grub." 
 Suddenly his ears are saluted by a cheerful call 
 of "Mail! Mail here!" and, listening, he hears 
 called aloud, "Captain George P. Randolph!" 
 accompanied by the remark, "and from a 
 woman, too, by jingo! Look at the fist! " 
 
 Very soon the letter is before his gaze, but 
 shuts out all thoughts of hunger and weariness, 
 and adds to the weight of his troubles a load as 
 heavy and burdensome as it was unexpected. 
 
138 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 In brief, it tells him of the burning of the 
 home of Marguerite, of the loss of all the valu- 
 able improvements attached to the place — all 
 given to the flames by the barn-burning raid of 
 Hunter — and also tells of their intended removal 
 to Columbia, South Carolina, as a point of 
 safety ; for was it not there that the Confederacy 
 printed their money? and with expressions of 
 devotion, closes with a prayer for his safe de- 
 livery from all danger by sickness and battle. 
 
 His hunger appeased, his weariness of mind 
 tempts him to wander among his fellow-officers, 
 when even this privilege is denied, for an orderly 
 curtly tells him that his presence is demanded 
 immediately at headquarters. 
 
 Upon reporting, he is ordered to take two 
 days' rations and twenty men and report to 
 
 Greneral G- , near Rives Salient, at 9 o'clock 
 
 p. m. 
 
 Promptly he has crossed the pontoons and is 
 wending his way through the old " Cockade 
 City," a title earned in 1812 and glorified in 
 1864. 
 
 The moon, in queenly garb, was flooding all 
 nature with brilliant, silvery light ; the house- 
 tops glistened with the frosts of the chilly night, 
 and the deep shadows of tall houses, dark and 
 tenantless, are checkered with the flickering 
 lights of those who cannot or will not leave. 
 
Special Duty. 139 
 
 The streets are deserted, ploughed with shot and 
 shell ; the fine houses on Bolingbrook street a 
 continuous line of wreck and ruin, with falling 
 walls and tottering chimneys ; now and then the 
 sullen roar of heavy guns is heard, but the sharp 
 report of the picket's rifle is never-ceasing. 
 i Every step unfolds a vision of the incarnate 
 deviltry of grim-visaged war. Bomb-proofs 
 upon private grounds, for the security of the 
 owners in case of bombardment, are numerous; 
 everywhere bears the evidence of long months 
 of unceasing struggle. 
 
 Randolph reports for duty, and is assigned to 
 the charge of a work of pick-and-shovel, for 
 which he prepares to rest in the folds of his 
 blanket, while waiting the "dark of the moon." 
 
 It is past midnight, when the picket gently 
 places his hand upon his shoulder and tells him 
 "it is time." 
 
 Arousing quickly, Randolph has his men in 
 hand, and with string and pegs, they mark the 
 line, and burrow like so many moles, until the 
 coming of day, when the unsuspecting eyes of 
 the enemy behold debatable ground no longer, 
 but safely behind the fresh-raised earth are good 
 men, with rifle and bayonet, to hold it. 
 
 As an evidence that this approach to a closer 
 relationship than is recognized as agreeable, 
 from right and left and front a storm of shot 
 
1-40 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 and shell are poured upon them, but lying down 
 close, hugging the ditches, they spend a "long, 
 long, weary day," listening and watching. 
 
 Night falls again ; a comparative stillness fol- 
 lows, and at the same time as before they begin 
 to extend the work, but not as before, unopposed 
 or unseen, for in a twinkling sheets of fire flash 
 from the parapets of the enemy, while their ar- 
 tillery opens with a roar that shakes the earth, 
 killing and wounding several and driving the 
 remainder to the cover of their pits. 
 
 This brought on an interchange of compli- 
 ments between the opposing batteries, and for 
 two long hours the din was incessant, the flash- 
 ing guns and bursting shells making a pyrotech- 
 nical display wondrously terrible but fascinat- 
 ing to the gaze. 
 
 As the men lay closely hugging the inside of 
 the ditch while all this grand display was going 
 on over their heads, no one had noticed the 
 stillness of Randolph as he lay upon the ground, 
 but his nearest file thought that by the peculiar 
 position of his arms and body that it was not 
 natural for one uninjured, and shaking him, he 
 got no response; then it is found that he is 
 badly wounded and insensible. 
 
 The two hours of steady firing gradually ta- 
 pers off to a single gun away down by Pocahon- 
 tas Bridge (or where it was), and finally it, too, 
 
Captain Randolph Wounded. . . 141 
 
 ceases, and only the "pop! pop! "' and never- 
 ending 'night picket firing is heard. 
 
 At that darkest hour, just before dawn, four 
 men carrying the litter on which lies now our 
 wounded Captain, are hurrying with noiseless 
 steps by the very route by which they had 
 tramped so hopefully but a few hours before. 
 
 Upon examination it is discovered that the 
 wounds, while painful, are not of a serious nat- 
 ure, and after the patient and skilful services 
 of the regimental surgeon, our hero is left to his 
 nurse and gentle slumber. 
 
 Soon in a condition to be moved, Randolph 
 remembers the abiding place of Marguerite, and 
 who could better play the part of physician and 
 nurse than she? And would not the Confed- 
 eracy have one less mouth to fill! Such plead- 
 ing with the gentle and kind-hearted surgeon 
 secured for Randolph a pass and transportation 
 to Columbia, South Carolina. 
 
 In the latter days of the Confederacy, in those 
 days of wheezy, overworked engines and rickety 
 cars, who could portray the discomfort, the filth 
 and terrible trials of a wounded man, jostled, 
 side-tracked; in one hour hot, the next freezing 
 cold ; wretched, starved, and burning with fever 
 and thirst! 
 
 The memory of that trip clings like a night- 
 mare, &nd whose recollection is brightened only 
 
142 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 by one incident. Falling into a doze, and upon 
 opening his eyes at some point between £)anville 
 and Charlotte, Randolph was surprised to see 
 the sweet face of an elderly lady bending over 
 him, smiling with a cheerfulness refreshing to a 
 man in his depressed state of mind and body. 
 
 "You have been sleeping," says she; "I hope 
 that it has been a refreshing sleep. 
 
 Buoyed by the look, the voice, and the good 
 old face peering out of the curtains of one of 
 those old-fashioned "sun-bonnets," sacred in 
 the memory of our childhood days, he answers : 
 "Yes, I feel much better, but I cannot under- 
 stand why our engineer wants to jerk the life 
 out of us, or break his couplings, every time 
 that he starts to move." 
 
 With the same sweet, winning smile, she an- 
 swers: "You are speaking from the effects of 
 the jerks upon an empty stomach, and as I 
 have a basket expressly for sick and wounded 
 Confederate soldiers, I make it my daily business 
 to travel up and down this road, a volunteer, 
 for the special service of finding such as you." 
 
 And suiting the action to her speech, she 
 beckons her waiter and regales our hero with 
 viands to which he has long been a stranger, 
 and which in long years after he gratefully re- 
 members. 
 
 Perhaps this will recall to many a grateful 
 
That Good Old- Lady. 143 
 
 heart that good old lady, the ministering angel 
 of comfort, whose kind words and gentle touch 
 had soothed so many suffering soldiers, and 
 whose well-filled basket brought cheer and hap- 
 piness to many a wan and hungry Confederate. 
 Changing cars at Branchville, South Carolina, 
 but a few hours' run brought him safely to 
 Columbia, where our hero is met by the blush- 
 ing and happy Marguerite, who waves on high 
 in exultation the Chief Surgeon's permit to 
 quarter him at the home of her he loved so well. 
 
144 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Chapter XII. 
 
 From Petersburg to Columbia — Oh! what a 
 contrast! At the one, strife and bloodshed, the 
 rattle of small arms and the thunder of the big 
 guns ; pale want and grim desolation stares all 
 with the grimace of an insatiate demon. At the 
 other is music and the dance ; gaily attired ladies 
 and well dressed gentlemen, sprinkled but too 
 frequently with gold-laced officers, parade the 
 streets. 
 
 Worn with fatigue, and still suffering from 
 his wounds, Randolph retires early, but not to 
 sleep ; thoughts come and go like lighting-flashes 
 through his fevered mind. The transition has 
 been too sudden, and all seems too unreal. Xow, 
 forgetful of his situation he listens for the in- 
 cessant picket firing; but no, there is the sweet 
 Toice of some fair daughter of Carolina trilling 
 the plaintive melody of II Trovatore, '"Ah. I've 
 sighed to rest me." 
 
 Randolph thinks, too, of the gallant few of 
 over-worked, ill-fed and long-suffering soldiers, 
 who uncomplainingly shiver in their trenches — 
 dying, and ready to die in defending 1 heir work. 
 
 Wearied nature at last ;isserts her rights, and 
 
Only a Bream. 145 
 
 lie sleeps that sleep which comes with change of 
 place and new surroundings, deep, but full of 
 the grotesque imagery of a disordered mind. 
 While dreaming that he was leading a train of 
 cars to capture Marguerite, who was being taken 
 away by the Yankees, he was unhorsed by a 
 woman with a basket, who. with her threatening 
 carving-knife awakened him with a sudden 
 start, to find that he had slept till 9 o'clock 
 a. m., and that the sun was brightly shining 
 outside of the drawn curtains. 
 
 There was no disposition to arise, but rather 
 the reverse, and with a dull pain in every joint 
 and each wound, a racking headache, he rather 
 wished for the early arrival of some Grood 
 Samaritan. 
 
 Not long does he wait, for a gentle knock is 
 quickly answered by the expected " Come," and 
 a servant enters, who is directed to call for 
 medical aid. This has the effect of bringing the 
 host and hostess, the parents of Marguerite, 
 quickly to his bedside, who, in a short time, are 
 followed by Surgeon Fisher, who, with the de- 
 liberation of one who has seen service in the 
 field, looks at the patient, smilingly asks how 
 he feels, remarks on the pretty morning, and is 
 all the time removing his overcoat, and then is 
 — mum. 
 
 With tender and skilful hands the wounds 
 
146 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 are unbandaged, and then it is discovered that 
 much has gone wrong during the three days of 
 inattention during travel. 
 
 Suffice it to sav that with the severity of the 
 operation, the depleted state of the body of the 
 patient, and the high and almost ungovernable 
 fever which held him in its fast embrace, the 
 good old surgeon had a hard fight, and the 
 patient a close shave for life. 
 
 On the seventh day Randolph opens his eyes 
 upon a scene never to be forgotten. Sitting 
 close to his bedside was Marguerite, her elbow 
 resting upon a chair, holding her cheek in the 
 palm of her hand, fast asleep. Her face was 
 turned to him ; evidently she had fallen asleep 
 while intently watching him. What a wealth 
 of happiness to him to gaze, and to watch un- 
 molested that face he loved so well. He could 
 almost feel her breath upon his cheek ; still she 
 slept and still he gazed ; and, as if warned by 
 some subtle agency, she opened her eyes to meet 
 his own, exchanging a look of happy surprise. 
 
 " Well, sweetheart, I have watched over you 
 while you slept, have proved myself a true sen- 
 tinel, and now won't you reward me for my 
 services with just one sweet kiss?" Thus 
 speaks the sick man. 
 
 Without any shrinking prudery, she answers: 
 11 Indeed I will, my brave knight," and kissing 
 
In Columbia, S. C. 147 
 
 him, and again for good luck, she pauses to 
 ask: " Do yon not feel much better, dear?" 
 
 He answers: " Ever so much better; I feel 
 like a new man — wonderfully refreshed; rest of 
 body and mind was what I wanted. Tell me, 
 darling, how long have I slept!" 
 
 "Never mind about your time of sleeping," 
 says Marguerite. "Keep quiet now, like a good 
 boy, while I go and send the glad tidings to 
 Doctor Fisher," who soon arrives and makes 
 all happy by announcing all bad symptoms 
 passed and predicting a rapid convalescence. 
 
 At the end .of three weeks Marguerite prevails 
 upon the good old folks to invite company to 
 meet the Captain, their guest, at their house, 
 which is granted with some gruntings, provisos 
 and much ominous shakings of the head at the 
 possibility of supplying the comforts for the 
 inner man. 
 
 Marguerite answers, that they '■ would make 
 it up by giving them a taste of Old Virginia 
 hospitality, and as most of the people were 
 South Carolinians, that they would be content 
 with rice." 
 
 The eventful evening came at . last, and with 
 
 it to the hospitable mansion of Captain D , 
 
 the elite of Columbia. Beauty, grace and ele- 
 gance of manner made up for the lack of gor- 
 geous costumes, and wit, music and the dance 
 
148 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 went merrily on until the wee small hours anent 
 the twal. 
 
 But not entirely recovered from his hard 
 wrestle for recovery, Randolph, with Marguerite 
 leaning upon his arm, saunters into the sanctum 
 sanctorum of the Pater, who calls it his study, 
 where his most studious efforts are directed in 
 the extraction of as much enjoyment as possible 
 from a fine old meerschaum, now grown a beau- 
 tiful thing of colors. Thither also, the older 
 members of the throng masculine had come 
 for a friendly chat and a smoke. 
 
 Upon entering, a venerable gentleman arose, 
 and with the courtesy of the chivalrous of 
 bygone days, politely asks if smoking is offen- 
 sive. 
 
 Marguerite answers, k ' Not at all; do continue 
 smoking. I am accustomed to the smoke of 
 tobacco, good tobacco, at least, and my father 
 is too good a judge to offer you anything bad." 
 
 Continuing, the old gentleman, who proved to 
 be an attorney and resident of the City of 
 Charleston, says: "I am delighted to have the 
 pleasure of your company Miss Marguerite, and 
 quite as much so to see Captain Randolph, to 
 whom I extend my hearty congratulations for 
 his safe delivery from all his trials." 
 
 Randolph gracefully acknowledges the com- 
 pliment, and adds that he will soon be able to 
 
Sherman's March to the Sea. 149 
 
 return to his command ; that Lee can spare not 
 a man; or, "mayhap, I maybe needed here, as 
 Sherman is turned loose without opposition." 
 
 A Colonel Stout, of militia fame, remarks: 
 "I notice that the march to Atlanta by Sher- 
 man is wn fait accompli, and now that Hood is 
 away up north, may not this man with his im- 
 mense army take it into his head to march east 
 and then northwardly, and lay waste the 
 country?" 
 
 This suggestion or question creates a diversity 
 of opinion, some asserting that Sherman would 
 have to move back to look after Hood, which 
 was Mr. Davis' idea, when he sent a soldier to 
 replace Joe Johnston, who would strike a 
 " manly blow," and who struck it at Franklin. 
 
 But old Gleneral Marcellus Brown here inter- 
 posed his opinion: u No, sir; no, sir; Sher- 
 man will come right on. He's got skilled engi- 
 neers and constructors who will build roads 
 faster than we can destroy them, and thousands 
 of our negroes will assist them; and who can 
 pilot them better than the black rascals, who 
 know every foot-path." 
 
 Col. Stout ventilates his patriotic estimation 
 of the " sacred soil of Carolina," and cannot 
 bring his mind to consider the possibility of its 
 profanation by the incendiary bummers of 
 Sherman's army. 
 
150 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Seated, conspicuously in the midst of the group 
 is an officer of the Confederate army, whose 
 bright and unsoiled uniform, fair face and 
 immaculate linen, are proofs positive against 
 any charge of contact with war's rude bufferings; 
 but bolstered by the kinsmanship of a power 
 near the throne, usurps the place of men more 
 deserving and better fitted for the duties incum- 
 bent upon him. Clearing his throat and waving 
 out his dexter hand, he parades his views as fol- 
 lows: "At headquarters, I find a general dis- 
 belief of any foolhardy invasion of our country ; 
 we are entirely too far in the interior. I recently 
 had the pleasure of a stroll with a visitor, or rather 
 a refugee from Chattanooga, who gave Sherman 
 but poor credit as a leader, and his army as 
 merely a disorganized mob of bummers. He 
 was highly pleased at the disposition of our 
 means of defense, as well as of our forces; all 
 of which I took the trouble to show and explain 
 to him, and er — er — by-the-by " (with the most 
 insinuating smile at having done so much for 
 his friend ) ' ' he spoke of you most kindly, Cap- 
 tain Randolph, and said that you would be glad 
 to hear from him, and made me the bearer of 
 his greetings and best wishes for your welfare 
 and success." 
 
 " I did not understand the name," remarks 
 Randolph. 
 
Randolph Heats of Van Horton. 151 
 
 " Horton — Oh! yes, Van Horton, of Chatta- 
 nooga," answers the Adjutant. 
 
 11 Allow me then to say, Adjutant," answers 
 Randolph, whose flashing eyes and contracted 
 brows gave evidence of the awakening of the 
 lion in the man, " that your news is as disagree- 
 able as it is unexpected, and that your protege 
 is an unrelenting enemy to our country; a 
 robber by taste and profession, false to you as 
 he was false to his own family. Your acts of 
 courtesy and hospitality were simply wasted upon 
 a spy." 
 
 Picture if you can, the surprise and mortifica- 
 tion of Adjutant Post, upon hearing the dread- 
 ful news. Embarrassed and confounded, the 
 holiday soldier leaves at the earliest opportunity, 
 and his absence enables the older heads to 
 ventilate their various disgusts of the recipient 
 of his knowledge of military facts. 
 
 To Marguerite it was nothing less than a 
 severe physical shock. u Van Horton here!" 
 the bete voir of the circle of friends in whose 
 safety and happiness her whole soul was con- 
 centrated. With a woman's watchful care of 
 the invalid one. Marguerite proposes to return 
 to the parlors, but her voice falls upon deaf ears, 
 and until her request is repeated, Randolph 
 arousing from his abstraction, apologizes for his 
 inattention and escorts her to her guests. 
 
152 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 The handsome couple had hardly left the 
 room before old General Marcellus Brown, with 
 a thump upon the table to emphasize what he 
 says: " That young man, Randolph, just suits 
 me; says little, and that little he says well; sun- 
 burned and scarred, he is the beau ideal of a 
 soldier. Did you see him look at that pudding- 
 head Post \ He looked more like an awe-ning 
 post when he left us." 
 
 "Oh, yes," says the host; "the men who 
 have trotted with Jackson and Lee over the 
 hills and vales of Virginia looking for fights, 
 finding and winning them without counting the 
 odds, are of just such stock. Now I, for one, 
 am a believer in stock. I have fine stock at 
 home, or did have until I gave them up to our 
 government: and let me tell you, that careful 
 breeding, training and handling are as essen- 
 tially necessary to man as to the horse or other 
 animal, and my opinion is that Post would have 
 to be born again to be able to touch elbows with 
 our invalid." 
 
 General Brown, laughing merrily, says : "Abe 
 Lincoln has set an example as a high breeder. 
 With a single dash of the pen he has created 
 men, free men; voters without an idea of gov- 
 ernment; jurymen without judgment; ignorant, 
 superstitious, and but a generation removed from 
 barbarism and cannibalism — all this with a dash 
 
The Everlasting Negro. 153 
 
 of the pen, which it took our fathers centuries 
 of patient struggle, study and privation to 
 secure and to be qualified to maintain. Be it 
 distinctly understood, gentlemen," he goes on, 
 11 that I am not a lover of the institution of 
 slavery in the abstract, and recognize the love 
 of liberty which is implanted in the breast of 
 every living thing; yet this wholesale delivery, 
 this invitation to insurrection, murder and 
 arson, if not directly expressed, indirectly sug- 
 gested, burdens my mind with the belief that it 
 is the offspring of a cowardly brain, or a saving 
 expedient in a waning cause." 
 
 Our host, catching the infection, takes up the 
 subject as follows: 
 
 "Dropping the question of breeding, I have 
 read much and studied the everlasting negro, till 
 I am more convinced of his thorough unfitness 
 to occupy the position now designated for him 
 by the Lincoln proclamation ; an act of usurpa- 
 tion and vindictiveness ; 'the very quintescence 
 of malice, hatred and all uncharitableness. Gro 
 back in history, yes, even to the days of Pharaoh, 
 and we find him then what he is now. For 
 four thousand years he has held undisputed 
 possession of a continent, yet he has never made 
 a law; the whole race is guiltless of the creation 
 of any work of art, a statue, a painting, or a 
 monument. With the wisdom, science and ex- 
 
154 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 ample of every nation beaming upon them, it 
 has never penetrated their benighted haunts, nor 
 conquered their invincible ignorance. He is, 
 gentlemen, both morally and physically, a mys- 
 terious subject of Gi-od's unrelenting judgment, 
 incomprehensible as it is positive. In all past 
 time he has been a servant, a menial, and Abe 
 Lincoln and every other Lincoln on earth can 
 with all the appliances of law, philanthropy and 
 proclamation, only find him the same, either a 
 barber or in barbarism." 
 
 Having devoted this quantum of breath as a 
 kick and protest at old Abe's arbitrary move, 
 our host moves an adjournment to the society of 
 the ladies, and here they are met with news 
 which blanches the cheek of old and } T oung 
 alike; it is the announcement that Savannah 
 had fallen, and that Sherman, with an immense 
 army, having plundered all the helpless old 
 women and children in a march through a thinly 
 settled country, with no opposing army, had 
 formed a junction with the Federal fleet off that 
 harbor, and had simply crowded out General 
 Hardee with his few Confederate regiments. 
 
 This wondrous achievement over hen-roosts 
 and helpless barnyards is yclept, after the maud- 
 lin sentimentality of a fawning press, "Sher- 
 man's March to the Sea," and which affords a 
 vent for patriotic Yankee schoolmarms by con- 
 
'Randolph Breams. 155 
 
 % 
 
 tributing that operatic homily for school and 
 church festivals entitled, "Marching Thro', 
 Georgy." 
 
 The entertainment in honor of our hero, was 
 a perfect success as a social gathering, Randolph 
 meeting with many old friends among the ladies 
 and among the cripples now occupying places re- 
 quiring only easy service. But between the un- 
 pleasant introduction of Van Horton's name by 
 Adjutant Post, and the news of the capture of 
 Savannah, our hero retired, wondering "what 
 would happen next?" but soon fell asleep to 
 dream of "that fool, Post," verifying the truth 
 of the adage, that we dream of that which is last 
 upon the mind before sleeping. 
 
156 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Chaptek XIII. 
 
 Right well did the gentleman from Chattanooga, 
 the ''so-called" refugee Van Horton, accomplish 
 his mission. Relying upon his knowledge of the 
 generous and unsuspicious hospitality of the 
 Southern people, he found it no difficult matter 
 to return directly to the advancing Yankee army, 
 which he overtook just before its capture of 
 Savannah. 
 
 His mission had been crowned with success, 
 and his heart fairly leaped with joy at the knowl- 
 edge of the solid reward which would inure to 
 his credit for so meritorious a service in behalf 
 of his commander. 
 
 Following him to his quarters, we find a merry 
 crowd assembled under the shadow of a large 
 "fly" which was raised in front of the tent, and 
 served the purpose of mess-room, being supplied 
 with camp-table and chairs. 
 
 The tent was pitched under a lovely old "live 
 oak," whose garment of long, sweeping moss 
 waved gently in the passing breeze. 
 
 Having just arrived after a long and danger- 
 ous trip, and an almost equally fatiguing search 
 for his quarters, Van Horton, after dismounting, 
 
Vom Morton's Mission Done. 157 
 
 threw the rein in a careless manner to a negro 
 boy, one of the many thousand following in the 
 wake of Sherman's army, and bidding him to 
 rub well, water and feed, dismissed all other 
 considerations of horse or negro, and joins the 
 mess, where he is received with many hand- 
 shakes, many questions, with heavy slaps upon 
 the shoulder, and last but not least, a pressing 
 injunction to ''drink, old fellow, it'll do you 
 good. ' ' 
 
 " Say, fellows, what in the deuce could influ- 
 ence an officer of the rank of colonel to take the 
 chances of VanHorton's ride, unless there was a 
 woman in the case!" Thus speaks one Lieu- 
 tenant Peters. 
 
 " Oh, bosh! I can measure a man better than 
 that," says Captain Burke, "for Van don't 
 smile, and grin, and dawdle around. Look at 
 him now. Don't you see confidence in his face? 
 He is plump full of valuable information. Now 
 catch on, and see if I am not right." 
 
 " Never mind a leetle about drawing dose 
 conclusions, shentlemens," says Captain Grlas- 
 sick, a jolly fat German with a jolly red nose; 
 "youst eferybody fill up, undt let's drink a 
 bumper to the arrival in der fold of our long 
 lost sheeps," (and with military precision every 
 glass is drained), and still standing, the rubi- 
 cund German says: "Stand steady, shentle- 
 
158 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 raans; undt come here, you black rascal, and 
 make fill dose glasses;" and continuing, he 
 says: "Dot poy makes homesick mineself, for 
 when he's aroundt I have dot odor of dose 
 limberger mitoudt de beer, undt so I was all 
 broke oudt. Now, shentlemans, I gifs a dost to 
 dot fair lady I was entertaining yesterday and to 
 the gallant officer she was looking for." 
 
 With a clatter of glasses, a smacking of lips 
 and many ejaculations, of " Oh ! " l ' Oh ! " " Oh ! " 
 the rotund Dutchman subsided, puffed up with 
 the vanity of the possession of knowledge un- 
 known to his comrades, and the anxiety to own 
 the possession whereof would make him the 
 center of a fire of inquiries, direct, plunging 
 and cross, as to who she was, who she was 
 looking for, etc. 
 
 While all was eagerness, their senses already 
 inflamed by the liquor consumed, there was one 
 who made no effort to find out by inquiry, for 
 his mind was too intent upon the eager inward 
 discussion as to "which one" it could be. 
 
 The phlegmatic Teuton smoked his pipe and 
 smiled calmly at the wrangle, but never turned 
 his gaze once upon Van Horton to signify that 
 probably that it was he for whom the search was 
 directed. 
 
 In an instant the babel of voices is 
 hushed, for, at a short distance from cam}) is 
 
Miss F Appears. 159 
 
 discerned a lady rapidly approaching, sitting 
 her horse with ease and grace, a jaunty little 
 jockey-cap decorating her head, and long, dark 
 green riding-skirt streaming in the wind, as her 
 dashing sorrel sweeps along with light, springing 
 strides. 
 
 Every man stops still ; every one looks at one 
 object. None know the coming equestrienne but 
 one, and he, Van Horton, rising hurriedly, 
 advances to meet her; courteously he salutes 
 her, and leading her horse conducts the visitor 
 to the "fly," and ceremoniously introduces 
 
 Miss F as a vision of loyalty to the flag of 
 
 the Union. 
 
 This is followed by more wine, and we are 
 
 sorry to confess is participated in by Miss F , 
 
 who, possessed of every other attribute to make 
 a fast woman, finds no trouble to add a decided 
 taste for exhilerating drinks. In her most win- 
 ning manner Miss F , addressing Van Horton, 
 
 asks: "Tell us what you have done, and what 
 you know, for we are dying to hear." 
 
 "You will hear soon euough," answers Van 
 Horton, "and headquarters shall be the first to 
 hear-, and as we have had our little recreation 
 here, and you are well prepared, I will order my 
 horse, ride over and report." 
 
 The Commander-in-Chief received Van Horton 
 with expressions of marked gratification, and 
 
160 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 with closed doors his report was taken in detail. 
 And as the weakness of resistance; the utter 
 absence of men and means of defense ; the un- 
 protected homesteads, easy subjects for rapine 
 and plunder, because occupied only by the help- 
 less of both sexes, was shown in detail of the 
 route northward via Columbia, Sherman's joy 
 was boundless, and Van Horton was dismissed 
 with words of gratitude and promises, which 
 filled his breast with happy and buoyant hopes. 
 And from this moment begins the preparation 
 for a movement which is to be quick and deci- 
 sive. Within three days the whole army was 
 under arms, and, crossing the Savannah river, 
 moved northwardly in the direction of Columbia, 
 the capital of the State of South Carolina. 
 
Wonderful Nature. 161 
 
 Chaptee XIV. 
 
 How wonderful are the powers of nature; in 
 number without limit, in active operation in 
 every phase of existence, animate and inanimate. 
 One of the most intricate powers of nature is 
 the mind of man. It is a store-house from 
 which is drawn all that goes to make the wealth 
 and happiness of the world, or that which brings 
 ruin and despair to infinite numbers. While it 
 makes the law, it breaks it and defies it. It de- 
 fines the right, and is quick to aid the wrong. 
 It is a worker of miracles. It has taught us to 
 ride upon the winds; to whisper in the ear of 
 our friends an hundred miles away; to write with 
 the lightning's flash, and even to control the 
 mind of others; but there is one power which, 
 if ever given, is evidently lost — that of controll- 
 ing ones own mind. 
 
 Thus it was with Randolph ; sleeping or wak- 
 ing, his mind would dwell upon Van Horton's 
 visit to Columbia. "What was he there for? 
 Was he shadowing his movements, and was he, 
 too, included in his scheme for vengeance, be- 
 cause of his kinship! or was he simply a spy, 
 and Post the dupe of his machinations?" 
 
162 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 Such was the state of his mind, that, coupled 
 with his physical weakness, the hope of a speedy 
 return to camp seemed to diminish, and his 
 future to assume the form of a settled gloom. 
 
 This gloom had no silver lining, the smiles 
 and happy presence of the lovely Marguerite, 
 now dimly seen, seemed not able to dispel the 
 leaden shadow. 
 
 It was a bright, sunny day, although it was 
 crisp and cold out of doors ; the family had par- 
 taken of a late dinner, and a bright, cheerful 
 fire of wood burned upon the hearth of the par- 
 lor; and as Marguerite sat in a cosey arm-chair 
 near the sofa, where Randolph reclined in a 
 musing, pensive manner, so occupied was he in 
 his own thoughts, which were none of the 
 brightest, that the look of intense solicitude 
 which was fixed upon him by Marguerite was 
 entirely unnoticed, until Marguerite, remarking 
 an ugly frown upon Randolph's face, accom- 
 panied by a motion of the lips and an upraised 
 arm with a clenched hand, abruptly broke the 
 the silence by asking: "Kind sir, are you quar- 
 reling with me, or am I to be the sole audience 
 to your pantomimic program?" 
 
 Roused from his revery, Randolph answers as 
 if awakened from a dream: tl Mille pardons, 
 mctmselle! I was ruminating, reviewing my 
 troubles. Between my impotence, loss of kin, 
 
"A Lovers' Quarrel" 163 
 
 friends, home, the curse of Van Horton, the 
 vindietiveness of Miss F — , and last but not 
 least, my separation from my command, I feel as 
 if I was undergoing the agony of being drowned 
 in a sea of troubles." 
 
 "Then my company goes for naught," says 
 she.. "Who nursed you back to life, 0, base 
 ingratef" 
 
 Upon his essaying to speak, smilingly, she 
 shakes her finger at him and bids him to "repent 
 and say something nice and pretty, something 
 penetential, to show at least that the sense of 
 gratitude is not entirely dead within you." 
 
 "My dear, I plead guilty to any charge of 
 poverty of language to express, and my inability 
 to repay you for your unselfish and untiring 
 efforts in my behalf when so ill. May Heaven 
 bless you, sweet one; but ungrateful — never! 
 We have never had what others so often seem to 
 crave, 'a lovers' quarrel,' and with God's help 
 we never shall ; but you must bear now with my 
 depression, for I have for several days felt a 
 sense of impending danger, an incubus of 
 trouble, which I cannot account for, nor can I 
 throw it aside." 
 
 "It is perfectly natural for morbid ideas to 
 pervade the mind, when sickness seizes the 
 body ; or, perhaps, you may find some relief by 
 piling the blame upon that poor, patient, and 
 
164 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 long-suffering member — the liver!" answers 
 Marguerite. 
 
 "No," answers Randolph, "my thoughts do 
 not seem the offshoot of anything morbid, nor 
 even the result of a torpid liver; it is, or will be, 
 all, I fear, but too real; and now please" 
 
 There is a pause, for there came a loud ringing 
 of the front door-bell, which cut short any further 
 conversation, and in a few moments a servant 
 annouced a lady, much to the surprise of both. 
 
 Marguerite saw before her timidly advancing, 
 a woman of lithesome figure, with hair, eyes 
 and complexion filling all the requisites of ;i 
 pronounced blonde; whose carriage betokened 
 a courage begotten of pride and right, but 
 whose sombre dress and wan and troubled ex- 
 pression appealed at once to the heart for aid, 
 comfort and protection. 
 
 Being seated, she handed Marguerite a note, 
 remarking as she did so that she was happy and 
 grateful to be the bearer of a missive from a dear 
 friend, Miss Sadie Carday, now visiting at 
 Washington, D. C, who so kindly volunteered 
 to introduce herself, who was en route south in 
 search of her husband, now Colonel Van Horton, 
 of the United States Army. 
 
 Here was a revelation, and with Randolph, 
 adding another stigma to the already stigmatized 
 Van Horton. 
 
A Letter From Sadie. 165 
 
 An expert mind reader would have found a 
 task of extraordinary application, or perhaps 
 would have been paralyzed at the expressions of 
 amazement, sorrow, contempt and anger which. 
 pervaded the countenances of these three per- 
 sons as they stood for a moment silently gazing 
 at one another. 
 
 "Please excuse me,' 7 remarks Marguerite in 
 her most courteous manner, u while I read 
 Sadie's letter," which was as follows: 
 
 Washington, D. C, Jan. 15, 1865. 
 
 My Dear Marguerite — This will be handed to you by 
 Mrs. Van Horton (really Mrs. A. Van Horton Darke), a 
 native of England, in search of her husband, and who 
 deserves all your sympathy as a true woman, and the inno- 
 cent sufferer through the misdeeds of a heartless wretch. 
 
 She seeks not her husband to regain him, but for a pur- 
 pose dearer to a mother's heart — to secure her child, taken 
 from her in England, and who is reported to be with Van 
 
 H , or near him, under the charge of a Miss F or 
 
 Mrs. Van Horton. Give her all the help and comfort you 
 can. We caught up with Van Horton here, but when we 
 thought we had him, he gave us the slip. 
 
 Nothing in this contraband, and a wounded and paroled 
 
 prisoner kindly promised to see Mrs. Van H through 
 
 safely. 
 
 Love and blessings. 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 Sadie. 
 
 The elegance of manner, together with the 
 friendless and pitiful condition of the poor 
 stranger, was an impetus to each to suggest the 
 
166 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 best and surest method of finding the wretched 
 abductor. 
 
 Randolph, however, with a soldier's suspicion, 
 asks: "Why, Madam, did you not go direct by 
 the Yankee route, as by following it you can 
 more rapidly accomplish your purpose?" 
 
 With fiery energy, she answers: "I have no 
 sympathy with the man or his cause ; I desire 
 only to meet, not to follow him." 
 
 So earnest were they, that it was late when 
 Mrs. Van Horton (as we shall call her) took her 
 leave, promising to return early the next morn- 
 ing and endeavor to secure passes from General 
 Beauregard, now in command, and proceed to 
 Savannah, via Augusta. 
 
 The next morning was ushered into life with a 
 sun beaming with a beauteous luxuriousness al- 
 most preternatural, and as the rays came slant- 
 ing in its first efforts to kiss the tops of the 
 leafless trees, and warm with its sunny breath 
 tlit- frosts of night, every housetop in the City of 
 Columbia seemed to reflect the glory of the god 
 of day. 
 
 The beautiful city awoke to life, and, in the 
 happy sunshine, the citizens engaged in their 
 usual routine of business — thought not of mur- 
 der, rapine and arson. 
 
 It was about 3 o'clock p. m., of the 15th of 
 February, 1865, when a drooping, hard-ridden 
 
A Courier Arrives. 167 
 
 horse came slowly over the old, wooden bridge, 
 spanning the Congaree river, bearing a cavalry- 
 man, dusty and weary. A frank, handsome face, 
 heavily moustached ; broad shouldered, and with 
 an old slouch hat cocked rakishly upon one side, 
 he seemed the beau ideal of a man to trust upon 
 a mission where danger required a quick eye, a 
 strong arm, and plenty of nerve. 
 
 The rider knew his horse, for he was a part of 
 him. The poor, dumb brute had served his 
 master well; and, best of all, his master knew it, 
 and loved him for it ; and now, having passed 
 the bridge and climbed the ascent to the railway, 
 even passing the old freight-house, soon to be 
 blown to atoms, our wearied horseman straight- 
 ened up in his saddle, his animal felt the move- 
 ment, and, quickly responding, hastened his 
 pace, and soon he is at the door of the Mcker- 
 son, where G-eneral Beauregard had established 
 his headquarters. 
 
 Very soon it transpires that this man has 
 brought the message that Sherman, with his 
 whole army, was in full inarch upon the helpless, 
 undefended city. 
 
 The news was soon spread throughout the city, 
 and many refugees, who had secured homes 
 here, made haste again to decamp. 
 
 Many of all classes determined to brave it out. 
 Their means were exhausted by the war, and 
 
168 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 they had no place to retreat, nor means of sus- 
 tenance if they did. 
 
 Many prepared to leave, not earing to trust to 
 the tender mercies of a foe who had plundered 
 and burned a path through the unprotected 
 homes and fields of helpless old men and inno- 
 cent women. 
 
 On the arrival of Mrs. Van Horton, she found 
 the whole house in confusion. 
 
 Randolph had gone to the front, with a few 
 government clerks, some cavalry, and what was 
 termed Home Gruards (for the sake of euphony), 
 but Marguerite was determined to stand her 
 ground, and Mrs. Van H. was equally deter- 
 mined to cast her lot with her. 
 
 A widespread gloom settled down upon the 
 whole city, and a hopeless resignation seemed to 
 pervade the homes of all. 
 
 To those who had counted upon the magnan- 
 imity of the foe — "Sleep on; sleep for a little 
 while ! ' ' — there will be a sad awakening, for 
 there comes a hero (God save the mark) who 
 has declared that "Columbia is as bad as Charles- 
 ton," and that "Salt would hardly be necessary 
 to sow upon its ruins." 
 
 Oh, brutal man! Is this the reward of one T 
 trusted, honored, and placed in the highest po- 
 sition of a generous and unsuspecting people! 
 Nous verrons. 
 
The Enemy Appears. 169 
 
 Chaptek XV. 
 
 On the next afternoon, the 16th day of Febru- 
 ary, 1865, looking across the Congaree river to 
 the hills about a mile beyond, there came borne 
 upon the air the usual prelude of an advance, 
 the "pop! pop! pop!" of the skirmish line. 
 The evening was far advanced when the firing 
 increased; and very soon could be seen a long, 
 irregular line of ununif ormed men swaying across 
 an old field between two lines of trees. No 
 flashing battle-flags to cheer the heart or to greet 
 the eye; no veterans were there, only hastily 
 improvised two-legged obstacles, which only 
 meant delay. 
 
 With what thoughts did each one regard this 
 panorama, as Marguerite and her guest watched 
 the exciting but hopeless scene! 
 
 Soon darkness settled over the scene, and 
 with burning stores and cotton, the movement 
 of troops, principally cavalry, the sad hearts of 
 the populace wore out a sleepless night, but 
 scarcely realized a foretaste of the dreadful ex- 
 perience in store for them. 
 
 The next day, February 17th, the Federal 
 troops threw their shells into the city, and with- 
 
170 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 out opposition, marched in and took possession, 
 Sherman marking his supereillious entry by his 
 vulgar discourtesy to the Mayor, who met him 
 upon entering. 
 
 The terrible day wore away into the darkness 
 of the night. The helpless, young and old, now 
 worn with watching and dreading the vengeance 
 of the oppressor, were suddenly aroused to 
 anxious wakefulness by the cry of "fire! fire!" 
 
 Soon the city was illumined by the flames 
 arising simultaneously from different points of 
 the compass. The residents then saw and felt 
 their doom. 
 
 The flames spread rapidly from house to 
 house; drunken soldiers looted ad libitum. Men, 
 women and children rushed hither and thither, 
 frantic with fear; or, over-eager to save their 
 property, lost all by attempting to appease the 
 rapacity of their despoilers by offering a part. 
 Some to seek safety from personal harm, lifted 
 the sick upon cots and litters to the middle of 
 the street, where the full view of the terrible 
 scene made the hope of safety mockery by add- 
 ing horror to danger. 
 
 The Carnival of Arson and Deviltry went on 
 in every form of crime known to rapine, robbery, 
 lust and vengeance. 
 
 Marguerite and her guest were so paratyzed 
 with fear that neither could realize the extent of 
 
Columbia in Flames. 171 
 
 the conflagration, as the place was filled with 
 soldiers in every phase of temper and intoxica- 
 tion, either burning or stealing. 
 
 The fire went on in its consuming course, near- 
 ly destroying the beautiful city by sweeping away 
 everything from the State House on the south to 
 the distance of about one mile northwardly ; and 
 what had once been thickly studded with hand- 
 some and substantial brick buildings, occupied as 
 stores, offices, hotels, etc., was one solid ruin: 
 and on each side a distance of from one to three 
 blocks thoroughly Shermanized. 
 
 Could Sherman have ever seen the order of 
 the Christian soldier, which we so proudly here 
 append! 
 
 "Headquarters, Army Northern Virginia, 
 
 "Chambersburg, Pa., June 27, 1863. 
 
 "It niust be remembered that we make war only upon 
 armed men, and that we cannot take vengeance for the 
 wrongs our people have suffered without lowering our- 
 selves in the eyes of all whose abhorrence has been excited 
 by the attrocities of our enemy, without offending against 
 Him to whom vengeance belongeth; without whose favor 
 and support our efforts must all prove in vain. The Com- 
 manding General, therefore, earnestly exhorts the troops 
 to abstain, with most scrupulous care, from unnecessary or 
 wanton injury to private property, etc. 
 
 "R. E. Lee, General." 
 
 The night wore slowly away, the breeze stir- 
 ring the flickering ernbers, and the smoke still 
 
172 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 hovering over the crumbling ruins. Worn out 
 with the bacchanalian orgies of the night, and 
 weary and weighted with plunder, the soldiers 
 slept until the day again broke over a city con- 
 quered, plundered, and in ashes. 
 
 Having satisfied his burning desire to take the 
 city, Sherman had also satisfied his desire to 
 burn it, and now he began his march to leave 
 the ashes of the mighty camp-fire of his ven- 
 geance. 
 
 So horror-struck with the reckless destruction 
 of private property, and a witness of the crimes 
 and excesses committed by the bummer troops, 
 too horrible to relate, Mrs. Van Horton was loath 
 to trust her presence to the tender mercies of 
 the inarching army. 
 
 Believing that Randolph's physical condition 
 would soon force him back, or that he would 
 soon return to relieve their necessities, as they 
 were despoiled of the very necessities of life and 
 would starve without help, Marguerite advised a 
 patient wait for his arrival. 
 
 On the day of Sherman's entry into the city, 
 Randolph joined a body of cavalry under Gen- 
 eral H , at Littleton, seven miles north of 
 
 Columbia, as a volunteer, and proceeded with 
 them to Newberry, to assist in driving off de- 
 tached bands of Yankee raiders. 
 
 Hearing early of the destruction of Columbia, 
 
Randolph Returns to Columbia. 173 
 
 lie secured supplies immediately, and took the 
 main road going down the valley of the Saluda 
 river, his wagon heavily laden with provisions 
 for the now destitute citizens. 
 
 From Newberry to Columbia is about forty 
 miles, and along the entire route Randolph saw 
 naught but ashes and a widespread desolation. 
 Where but a few days before stood the happy 
 homes of helpless youth and defenceless age, 
 there stood only the bare chimneys, the silent, 
 solemn monuments marking the path of plunder, 
 arson, rape and wanton destruction. 
 
 The silent ruin nevertheless spoke to the heart, 
 and Randolph was oppressed beyond measure. 
 He had participated in all the campaigns in 
 Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania where sol- 
 dier met soldier armed and equipped for battle ; 
 where fields were covered with the dead and dy- 
 ing, victims of war's insatiate thirst for blood; 
 yet never before had such a cruel and relentless 
 exhibition of uncivilized and barbarous warfare, 
 and desecration of the property and sacred rights 
 of non-combatants met his gaze before. 
 
 Time, time cures many a rugged wound; and 
 it is well said that he who forgives not, breaks 
 down the bridge over which he must cross ; but 
 in future time, when the truth of history will be 
 known, will it not be a blight upon a hero's ( ?) 
 escutcheon, to stand convicted as the author and 
 
174 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 abettor of such infamy.' And in an age like 
 this, the age of steam and electricity, the Nine- 
 teenth Century, the apotheosis of civilization! 
 
 Crossing the river to the Columbia side, Ran- 
 dolph wended his way through the burnt district 
 to the home of Marguerite, and to his mortifica- 
 tion found her absent, but was solaced by the 
 joy of her father, who was rapturous in his praise 
 of the timely arrival, claiming that he had re- 
 versed the parable of the Prodigal Son. 
 
 No time was to be lost ; people were in want 
 of the necessaries of life, and old Captain Darl- 
 ington claimed that he had in no wise left his 
 code of Old Virginia hospitality behind him. 
 
 Not forgetting the venerable Doctor who had 
 attended him when so near death's door, Ran- 
 dolph desired to supply him first. Upon arriv- 
 ing at his gate he went no further, for there was 
 not a vestige of his pretty home. 
 
 The Doctor was a man of noble physique, 
 noble in character and striking in appearance — 
 a man who stood first in his profession in the 
 city and the State — and his home was the fruits 
 of a lifetime of laborious service. 
 
 Decorating the walls of his mansion were the 
 pictured forms and faces of those who had fig- 
 ured in the history of their country's glory; of 
 a son who was slain in the celebrated charge of 
 the Carolina troops in the bloody battle of 
 
s ■• -. 
 
 RANDOLPH MEETS THE DOCTOR. 
 
 A SHERMAN MONUMENT. 
 
The Venerable Physician. 175 
 
 Buena Vista in Mexico, and whose name is em- 
 blazoned upon the pedestal of the bronze Pal- 
 metto monument in the Capitol grounds of 
 Columbia. 
 
 While Randolph contemplated the sad scene, 
 the old Doctor came along, simply from force of 
 habit, and espied his patient, and with the same 
 calm demeanor which always characterized him 
 expressed his happiness in beholding his im- 
 proved condition. Not one word of complaint 
 passed the old man's lips, though homeless and 
 suffering from hunger. 
 
 Randolph, clasping his hand, said: "Doctor, 
 you have my heartfelt sympathy, and I have 
 come as your temporary commissary and desire 
 to issue rations." 
 
 " Thanks, Captain; many thanks. Your ar- 
 rival is very opportune; my children and or- 
 phan grandchildren are sorely in need. You 
 see our shelter is gone and our rations went at 
 the same time." 
 
 ''Tell me, Doctor, how they came to burn 
 your place — you, a much-needed man among 
 the sick, and a non-combatant?" 
 
 "Why they destroyed my premises, I cannot 
 tell ; how they did, I can. I was called away in 
 the very height of the conflagration to attend a 
 lady patient. I left my children and grand- 
 children with my housekeeper, (my wife being 
 
176 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 dead). I was absent about an hour, when upon 
 my return, I found my children shivering with 
 cold and fear upon the front porch, and a num- 
 ber of Federal soldiers moving up and down the 
 stairs, sacking the house. As I stepped upon 
 the porch a soldier went to the parlor door and 
 shook it (it being locked). He asked, 'What's 
 in here?' I, referring to my portraits, an- 
 swered, ' None but the dead. ' They then came 
 out upon the porch, threw inflammable liquid 
 upon the siding and floor, struck matches and 
 fired my home. I turned to my children and 
 said, 'Come.' We left and saved nothing, not 
 one single item."* And as they turned their 
 1 »acks upon the blackened ruins, they directed 
 their steps to the home of Marguerite. 
 
 To tell the truth, Randolph was thinking of 
 his darling little girl, but the good Doctor, 
 taking another view of his silence and abstrac- 
 tion, proceeded to say: "I will not revive sad 
 memories in my own breast, nor tire you with 
 the harrowing details of the night of the 17th of 
 February, 1865 ; they are known to our Father 
 in Heaven who hath said, ' vengeance is mine, I 
 will repay.' My dear Captain, crimes were com- 
 mitted too horrible to relate — excesses marked 
 by the cruel invention and barbarous vulgarity 
 of untamed savages." 
 
 *True, verbatim. 
 
Marguerite Saves her Jewels. 177 
 
 With this, the subject is dropped; for there 
 upon the veranda, in all the glory of her Con- 
 federate "Bee Store" calico, stood Marguerite, 
 whose smiling face was as radiant with happi- 
 ness as a heart rilled with love, satisfied and 
 glorified, could make it, awaiting the return of 
 her patient lo\ r er, now impatiently. 
 
 Catching the contagion, Randolph, feeling 
 quite as happy, and perhaps more so, cries out, 
 "Is it I or the rations!" 
 
 "The rations, of course, you darling old fel- 
 low," answers Marguerite. "You have come in 
 the nick of time. Although they did not burn 
 our home, they took all that we had, and turned 
 up the whole yard with their bayonets, seeking 
 for buried treasure. Bless your soul," laugh- 
 ingly, she says, "but are they not experts! 
 Not quite smart enough to get our little en- 
 gagement ring, with my few remaining articles 
 of jewelry; for my maid, Julia, lifted a fence- 
 post in the stableyard, and put back the 
 post upon my fortune, and lo! they are here, 
 safe." 
 
 And thus the afternoon passes away. The 
 kind, old Doctor had left several hours before; 
 tea had been served, and, as it was growing late, 
 the family were preparing to retire, when a mes 
 senger brought to Randolph a note from the 
 surgeon in charge of the hospital, asking his 
 
178 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 immediate attendance at the special request of 
 Mrs. Van Horton. 
 
 Donning his military overcoat, and looking 
 well to his " navy six," he soon found himself 
 at the office of the hospital, where an attendant 
 was awaiting to conduct him to the ward in 
 which the surgeon was engaged. 
 
 Proceeding thither, he was ushered into a 
 large, airy room, containing a single cot, upon 
 which a man was lying. Bending over him 
 stood the surgeon, while Mrs. Van Horton stood 
 near, holding a basin of water. To an old sol- 
 dier, it was evident they were dressing the 
 wounds of some unfortunate. 
 
 All was still — -no word was spoken — and the 
 little clock upon the mantel merrily clicked 
 away the minutes of time, careless of their value 
 to the patient, whether living or dying. 
 
 With a look of thanks from the woman, and 
 a nod of recognition from the doctor, Randolph 
 entered with noiseless steps, and looked down 
 upon the mangled form of Colonel Van Horton ! 
 
 When Columbia had fallen into the hands of 
 the invaders, Sherman ordered the shot and 
 shell stored in the magazine of the State arsenal 
 on the hill, near the reservoir of the city, to be 
 loaded upon wagons and to be thrown into the 
 river, by a detail of forty or fifty men. 
 
 Van Horton was superintending the casting 
 
A Hospital Scene. 179 
 
 of the shell into the Congaree river, when, by 
 some unaccountable mishap, an explosion oc- 
 curred, killing every man of the detail and fatally 
 wounding the officer ( Van H. ) in charge — liter- 
 ally annihilating soldiers, mules and wagons.* 
 
 Having accounted for Van Horton's condition, 
 we will proceed with our story. 
 
 The continued efforts of the surgeon, ably as- 
 sisted by the discarded wife, soon told upon the 
 suffering man, for, after a few moments, he 
 gradually aroused from his lethargy, coolly sur- 
 veyed his surroundings, and recognizing and 
 fixing his gaze upon the woman whom he had 
 so grievously wronged, faintly asked, "Is it pos- 
 sible?" 
 
 Being moved by a sense of pity, the poor 
 woman approached the sufferer with tearful eyes 
 and outstretched arms, with an effort, once more 
 to press her head upon the bosom of him who 
 had pledged to love, honor and protect her, when 
 the door was suddenly opened from without, and, 
 like an apparition, a tall, handsome blonde, ele- 
 gantly attired, and leading a handsome boy of 
 six or seven years, glided into the room with al- 
 most abrupt haste, and with the manner and as- 
 surance of one both privilged and expected. 
 
 Not understanding anything of the history of 
 the parties here strangely met, the doctor, who 
 
 *True. D A— 12 
 
180 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 had been closely watching his patient, who de- 
 sired to meet with Randolph before bidding 
 farewell to earth, turned to Randolph, and was 
 almost startled by the expression of his face; 
 his hands were clenched, his eyes blazing with 
 wrath. What could have aroused such an exhi- 
 bition of anger and hate by the mer,e appearance 
 of a woman in the act of rendering a friendly 
 service to a suffering soldier? This was the 
 question that flashed through the doctor's mind. 
 
 Not long did he have to wait to have his ques- 
 tion solved. Thinking Randolph to be in Vir- 
 ginia with his command, Miss F , in her 
 
 haste scarcely noticed the presence of any one 
 except that of Van Horton and the surgeon 
 attending. 
 
 Closing his eyes upon her entrance, Van Hor- 
 ton's quietude, with that of everyone else,mad<' 
 the stillness of the room almost death-like, until 
 Mrs. Van Horton, who had stood spell-bound 
 upon the intruder's entrance, and had fixed a 
 long, loving look upon the child introduced, 
 gave a cry of joyful recognition, which startled 
 her hearers, and was strangely echoed through 
 the dimly lighted halls. 
 
 The scene which followed would require the 
 genius of an Edgar Allen Poe to present, for 
 what followed was beauty, deceit and sin en- 
 trapped, then expelled; hope, love and honor 
 
"Forgive Me, Grace." 181 
 
 rewarded, and the heart made glad; and to the 
 now poor, helpless sufferer the knowledge of 
 G-od's good pledge "Vengeance is mine, I will 
 repay. ' ' 
 
 The piercing cry had scarcely died away, when 
 Van Horton, stretching forth his right arm, the 
 only uninjured limb, and raising his head, 
 pointed to the child now in its mother's arms, 
 and said: " 'Tis hers — 1 — I have failed." 
 
 To Randolph — "You have her (pointing to 
 
 Miss F ) to thank for all my work of vicious 
 
 hate. I know that I have to die, and I want 
 your forgiveness. ' ' 
 
 And to his wife, very feebly : "Can you forgive 
 me, Grace?" 
 
 The poor, heart-broken woman, wife-like, 
 forestalling his thoughts, even his desires, held 
 the child's quivering lips to his parting kiss, and 
 clasping the weary head to her bosom, saw and 
 felt the breath going by gasps from the poor, 
 shattered body, while Randolph held his hand 
 and assured him that he was forgiven, as he 
 hoped to be forgiven. 
 
 It was but a few moments when all was over, 
 and the little one fatherless. 
 
 During the death scene, Miss F had 
 
 weighed well that the meeting with Randolph 
 was not a matter of trifling interest, both on 
 account of her acts of a personal character, 
 
182 From Bast to Ashes. 
 
 and her association as a unit in the invading 
 army. 
 
 With that cat-like quietness and alertness 
 which characterized her movements, she disap- 
 peared unseen, nor was her departure noted or 
 cared for; like a cigar stump it was smoked out, 
 and the'remains went to the gutter; but in long 
 years after, the lightning of her unscrupulous 
 wrath flashed through sombre clouds of news- 
 paper slings. 
 
 In a few days Van Horton slept with the sod 
 above him, which he had so lately trod as con- 
 queror, his wife and little one awaiting a steamer 
 at Charleston. 
 
 When Colonel Van Horton was picked up 
 after the explosion, with shattered limbs and 
 mortal wounds, the news traveled like a flash to 
 
 his camp quarters, where Miss F and his 
 
 child were cosily enjoying a siesta in the deserted 
 premises of a prominent refugee. 
 
 Leaving the child, she hurried to the scene of 
 devastation, to find that the Colonel had been 
 conveyed to the nearest hospital, which was in 
 use by the Confederates. Hastening thither, 
 she was informed that he was then unconscious, 
 and that his wounds were mortal. Tired and 
 depressed, she sat down by his cot to await the 
 return of consciousness. 
 
 Long did the moments seem, but at last there 
 
Farewell Miss F . 183 
 
 came a long-drawn sigh, a moan of pain, as 
 nature came back to assert its claims and to 
 resent its abuse, and with lips contracted with 
 pain, received the kiss of his visitor. 
 
 Knowing his desperate condition, he said in a 
 mandatory tone: 
 
 " Gro, bring my boy, that I may see him once 
 more before I die.' 1 and acting promptly the 
 fear inspired by his words and his condition oper- 
 ating as an impetus to her movements, she hast- 
 ened away and soon accomplished her errand, 
 with the result already described. Ignorant of 
 the happenings while upon her errand, Miss 
 
 F , with her proverbial recklessness, rushed 
 
 into the presence of those who loathed her very 
 name. 
 
 And now we relegate her to her bummer asso- 
 ciates, and waive her adieu forever, to resume 
 the thread of our story. 
 
 Randolph and Marguerite made frequent 
 tours about the city, and contributed in no 
 small manner toward the alleviation, if not the 
 relieving of the distress of many families. 
 
 Deep and bitter was the denunciation of Sher- 
 man for his inhuman barbarity in the unneces- 
 sary destruction of one of the fairest cities of 
 ths South. 
 
 And now, thirty years after, let us pause for 
 a few moments to consider the facts in the noble 
 
184 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 effort to obtain the truth, of history, asserting 
 only what we know, and quoting from Sherman 
 himself, who tells of his cruel and unwarrant- 
 able crime of looting and burning Columbia. 
 
 In the Memoirs of W. T. Sherman, written 
 by himself, page 287, Vol. II., occurs these 
 words : " In my official report of this conflagra- 
 tion, I distinctly charged it to General Wade 
 Hampton, and confess I did so pointedly to 
 shake the faith of his people in him; for he was 
 in my opinion a braggart, and professed to be 
 the champion of South Carolina." 
 
 Was there ever a more puerile sentence writ- 
 ten than this — a spiteful, jealous, emanation of a 
 mimic historian l 
 
 If there was ever one name the least appli- 
 cable in the language of every people upon God's 
 earth, the name of braggart connected with that 
 of Hampton is the one. It may be handed 
 down only in Sherman's book, but an incendiary, 
 indicted by a civilized world, and proven by the 
 words of his own mouth, can never besmirch 
 the character of so gallant a gentleman. 
 
 Did Hampton's cotton and torch reach forty 
 miles, cross the Congaree and Saluda rivers, rest 
 for hours from its labor of love and affection to 
 his old friends, neighbors and kinsmen, and then 
 burn Columbia and despoil the home of his wife 
 and children? 
 
Sherman Dissected. 185 
 
 Sherman burned Columbia — contemplated it, 
 and carried out his contemplation to the letter, 
 his denial to the contrary notwithstanding, and 
 his Memoirs prove the truth of the assertion. 
 
 See page 152, Volume II, to show his animus, 
 his incendiary propensity: "Until we repopulate 
 Georgia it is useless to occupy it, but by the 
 utter destruction of its roads, houses" (not its 
 armies), etc., * * * "we can make this inarch 
 and make Georgia howl." 
 
 Again, page 159, Volume II, "I sally forth to 
 ruin Georgia." Not one word of fighting — only 
 of the looting and barbarous destruction of the 
 homes of helpless non-combatants — old men, 
 women and children. 
 
 On entering South Carolina, in Sherman's 
 general order No. 120, page 175, Volume II, this 
 appears: "Section 5. To corps commanders 
 alone is entrusted the power to destroy houses." 
 
 Halleck wrote from the City of Washington, 
 December 18, 186-1 (see page 228, Volume II): 
 "Should you capture Charleston, I hope that by 
 some accident the place may be destroyed, and if 
 a little salt should be sown upon its site," etc. 
 
 To Halleck, in answer, Sherman writes (see 
 idem): "I will bear in mind your hint as to 
 Charleston, and do not think that salt will be 
 necessary. When I move, the Fifteenth Corps 
 will be on the right of the right wing, and their 
 
186 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 position will naturally bring them into Charles- 
 ton first, and if you have watched the history of 
 that corps, you will have remarked that they 
 generally do their work pretty well. The truth 
 is, the whole army is burning with an insatiable 
 desire to wreak vengeance on South Carolina. I 
 almost tremble at her fate, but feel that she de- 
 serves all that seems in store for her. I tool; upon 
 Columbia as quite as had as Charleston." 
 
 And true to his promise to Halleck, the Fif- 
 teenth Corps was the first to enter Columbia, 
 "which was quite as bad as Charleston;" the 
 "same accident" did occur, and the place was 
 laid in ashes. 
 
 How, in the face of all this, and thousands of 
 eye-witnesses, could Sherman have the unblush- 
 ing afirontery "to charge it to General Wade 
 Hampton!" 
 
 To falsify his denial by an open and honest 
 confession, which, perhaps, he conceived, ac- 
 cording to the teachings of an old adage, would 
 work some benefit for his soul, was a crowning 
 act of his literary digest, and occurs on page 
 288, Volume II, of his Memoirs: "Having utterly 
 ruined Columbia, the right wing began its march 
 northward." 
 
 After maturing a march, poetically to the sea 
 (really against old men, women and children, 
 all helpless and defenseless), by a general order 
 
The Great Lee. 187 
 
 systematically arranging details for marauding 
 and plunder, in the bitterness of his venom he 
 ruthlessly loots and burns, and, appalled at the 
 enormity of his crime, most lamely attempts to 
 shift the burden upon the shoulders of an hon- 
 orable soldier. 
 
 Oh, no! General Sherman. Hampton was no 
 descendant of the burning race: nor was his 
 sword ever drawn upon old men, women and 
 children, but under his superior officer, the Great 
 Lee, he was expressly forbidden such, and, by 
 general order, reminded that " Vengeance was 
 only the prerogative of his Maker. ' ' 
 
 Apropos just here, a little incident we beg to 
 mention — a jewel worth unveiling. 
 
 When Barksdale's sharpshooters, before Fred- 
 ericksburg, destroyed the pontooniers, and im- 
 peded the construction of the pontoon bridge, it 
 so provoked the general of side-whiskers fame — 
 the Bur aside — that forgetting the men with arms 
 in their hands, he turned one hundred and forty- 
 seven pieces of artillery upon the devoted city, 
 driving hundreds of women and children from 
 their homes, to wander over the frozen highway, 
 thinly clad, and knowing no place of refuge, 
 their miserable path lighted up by the lurid glare 
 of their own homes and the bursting shells of 
 one hundred a»tl forty-seven guns. 
 
 General Lee grimly watched the painful spec- 
 
188 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 tacle from a redoubt, silently noting the wanton 
 destruction; then gravely turning to those near 
 him, remarked: " These people delight to de- 
 stroy the weak and those who can make no de- 
 fense ; it just suits th cm . ' ' 
 
 Let this be Sherman's epitaph. 
 
 We honor men like Grant ; cool in the midst 
 of all troubles, honorable and just in his deal- 
 ings, a hero who faced death on a hundred bat- 
 tlefields, and twice on his bed of sickness ; a sol- 
 dier who sought his armed enemy and gave him 
 battle — all honor to the noble warrior! The 
 prayers of every good soldier goes up to the 
 great, White Throne for such as him. But 
 Sherman! — and his march to the sea — from all 
 such, " Good Lord deliver us," is a fixture in 
 our Litany. 
 
 With an armed force of one hundred and 
 twelve thousand men; more than Hood, Beaure- 
 gard, Hardee, Johnston and Lee combined, 
 with no army to oppose ; only the frightened 
 faces of old men, women and children, with a 
 finale of a grand negro round-up — this, O, shades 
 of Ca?sar! is the theme of paeans of u Sherman's 
 March to the Sea!" 
 
After the War. 189 
 
 Chaptee XVII. 
 
 Six months have elapsed since the events last re- 
 lated occurred. War-clouds have rolled by, and 
 the sun of peace is shining down upon a coun- 
 try whose people are once more engaged in 
 the pursuits of industry and commerce. 
 
 Now and then a crutch or an empty sleeve, 
 brings back the remembrance of the din and 
 carnage of battle, bat the bummers of the camps 
 are loath to quit their occupation, and have now 
 become the bummers of politics. 
 
 Under the name of reconstruction, the South 
 is undergoing a moral trial from which she 
 emerged with shorn locks but with spirits re- 
 newed, with rejuvenated vigor, with a healthy, 
 chastened energy. 
 
 And now, as the leaves are beginning to be 
 tinged by the chilling touch of frost, when the 
 fall roses are unfolding their fresh, sweet buds 
 to greet the sunbeams and cheer the heart and 
 eye of man; when the robins come trooping 
 with their happy chirps overhead, filling the 
 tree-tops with their welcome voices; just in this 
 time and season we find the same two persons 
 in the same garden, at the same spot, as when 
 
190 From Dust to Ashes. 
 
 long months ago we found them, after their 
 eventful boat ride. 
 
 Then, it was on the eve of a departure upon 
 an errand of grim-visaged war; but now it is 
 upon the eve of quite a different journey. 
 
 A journey of life — for now, after so many 
 years of faithful waiting, Marguerite and Ran- 
 dolph are to be united in the holy bonds of 
 wedlock. 
 
 And here, among so many kindred and friends, 
 there were but few houses where the one impor- 
 tant subject was not discussed in every phase 
 conceivable and inconceivable, from cellar to 
 garret, and from kitchen to stable. 
 
 Old Captain Darlington and his good Virginia 
 wife were proud of their children and of him to be 
 numbered among them, and were determined 
 that the temporary dwelling of balloon construc- 
 tion, (his beautiful home having been burned by 
 Hunter's forces in his raid) should be no draw- 
 back upon the celebration of these nuptials, 
 which should partake of all the forms and fest- 
 ivities of an old-fashioned Virginia wedding. 
 
 The days have gone by, and old Time has 
 sprinkled our heads with frosty marks of his 
 seasons passed, but never will he be able, with 
 all his chilly breath, to cool or dim the remem- 
 brance of that happy event. 
 
 The sun had set in a clear, blue sky, and the 
 
Wedding Guests. 191 
 
 quivering leaves of fall barely felt the passing 
 breeze; the stars looked down, twinkling, from 
 their dark, blue canopy, and all was peace — 
 peace, sweet peace. 
 
 All hearts thronging there were happy, and 
 nature inanimate seemed in glorious unison with 
 nature animate. The very barking of the dogs, 
 scurrying through the lane, seemed happy and 
 cheerful. 
 
 Up among the grove of trees, there streamed 
 a flood of light through every window. Many 
 of the old servants, surfeited with a few months 
 of philanthropic Yankee servitude, were back 
 at home, and by the antics of the picaninnies, 
 and the "hi-hi's" and "yah! yah's!" of their 
 elders, accompanied by the arrival of buggies, 
 carriages, and every other vehicle owned or ob- 
 tainable, created a pandemonium of joyous con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Kindred met kindred, after years of absence 
 in camp or prison. Old friends came from the 
 valleys of the James, the Shenandoah and the 
 Roanoke. 
 
 Beautiful women, whose dear hands had so 
 lately smoothed the brows of dying soldiers, 01 
 cheered their lovers in their devotion to their 
 country, were there. 
 
 Grive me for courage, hospitality and the true 
 temper of the patriotic Roman matron, the 
 
192 From Bust to Ashes. 
 
 woman of blessed Old Virginia ! Glorious old 
 Mother, the synonym of heroine ! 
 
 The clock had just chimed the hour of ten, 
 when the minister of God, robed in the surplice 
 of his holy office, made his appearance in their 
 midst, prepared to perform the functions of his 
 calling. 
 
 A grim smile wreathed the face of many an 
 old soldier. He pictured in his mind the slight 
 contrast of another occasion, wherein our same 
 surpliced minister, officiating in another capac- 
 ity, upon the historic field of Manassas, turned 
 loose his artillery with the benediction, "and 
 may the Lord have mercy upon their souls! " 
 
 There was a stillness of expectant surprise, 
 when the curtains were drawn aside, nor were 
 their expectations disappointed, for as Margue- 
 rite stood leaning upon the arm of the gallant 
 Randolph, never was beauty more radiantly 
 pictured. 
 
 Decked with the simplicity of a village maiden, 
 no queen, with all the robes of state and jewels 
 of a nation's vaults, could excel the wealth of 
 beauty, of form and of feature, and of the luxu- 
 rious gifts of nature's own hands; as the loving 
 pair stood and pledged their troth, and received 
 the benediction of the brave old minister of 
 God. 
 
 It is years since that event, and now far 
 
They Are One. 193 
 
 away west of the Mississippi river, Randolph 
 watches the playful antics of a smaller Sadie, 
 and a Lawrence, too, and often reminds Mar- 
 guerite that when he shook the dust of the 
 Institute from his feet he dreamed but little of 
 finding his fair bride among the ashes of Colum- 
 bia, and his nuptials over the ashes of her 
 father's homestead. 
 
 Finis. 
 
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