Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1867-05-02
CLEBURNE'S GRAVE.

Many Of our readers will probably re-
member an incident that occurred at St..
Johns Church, at Ashwood, Tennessee,
few days before the disastrous battle
of Franklin, where the heroic Cleburne
was killed at the head of his command.
The following description of the church
and incident alluded to, is extracted
from letter written at Ashwood, to a
lady Of this city: III.
"t Ashwood is merely a distin-
gushing name for neighborhood. A
postoffice on one side Of the Mount Pleas
ant road, and an Episcopal chapel on the
former, have nothing to osay-connected
with the latter there is legend that may
interest you. We have heard much of
the ivy. .mantled cathedral towers of Eu-
rope. They are not mythical. | have
not seen them, but i hare seen the tower
of St. Johns at Ashwood. English ivy
covers it from summit to foundation stone
in lavish greenery, in close embrace, jus
tifying the old poetic idea of affection in
the plant for the thing which supports it.
The church, though small, is symmetri-
cal, and Of unmixsd Gothic architecture.
1t stands upon knoll, shert distance
from the road, in grand old wood that
the dryads cannot but love, and that
bre athes out from its dim recesses the,
potent influences Of silence, of mystery
and of findefnable awe, which must have
added materially to the impressiveness
of the ceremonial of the Druidical wor-
shin of the Celtic nations.
In front of this really beautiful church,
Pat Cleburne paused as he was going to
glorious death on the bloodiest field Of
the war, and said to his attendants
"How quiet, how peaceful the spot looksl
1t seems to me that the dead would sleep
we'll in a place like this" Thus the hero
spake and knew not that he spake pre-
figuring words, for after that night of car.
mage before the fre-gilded works of
Franklin, his friends, remembering his
musings before the church of st. Johns,
bore his body back to its quiet shades,
where it rests with those of Granbury,
Stahl, and some others of the bravest of
the Army of Tennessee, who died tight
ing by his side
This afternoon in company with -
visited his grave, and as stood beneath
the overhanging trees, dank with recent
rain, found myself involuntarily repeat
ing land for the first time realizing their
full signifcadce) the threadbare lines:
+" And Ardennes waves above thom hor green
leaves,
Grieving, If aught inanimato ever grieves,
Over the unroturning brave"
With uncovered head, looked upon
the lowly resting place of this inheritor
of uniulGlled renown"-this Sidney OF
the South, and while standing there, the
memory Of Stonewall Jackson rose up
fresh and vivid, INTERVENING with that Of
Cleburne. At first could not under
stand the association, bat in few mo-
ments | recalled certain words of the
great Virginian, spoken while en- route
10 the scene of his last earthly triumph,
and all was plain. 1t was the eve of the
fight at Charlottesville. The day was
sultry and his weary comrades happened
to halt for few moments rest on the
barren side of stream, the opposite
shore Of which was wooded. Here 1t was
that he said to his men-"Let uS cross
over the river, and rest beneath the shade
of the trees" The shadow of Azraers
wing was over him then, as it was over
Cleburne at Ashwood, and in a little
while his name was giving new splendor
to the already glorious neurology of his
native State.
Pat Cleburne Stonewsll Jackson !
Peers in courage if not fame; enc the
favorite of the Army of Virginia, the
other the favorite of the Army Of Ten
nessee, both as true as steel, as constant
as the sun in the discharge of every
duty, each Of them rests in the grave Of
his choice, grandly and peacefully, while
their names are written in amarinthine
letters side by side, in the book OF q ma
tion'sremembrance.-Ai IHdeS.