Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-03-05

hbIuCh Uub lipts IN uhn IN nuuI bne OF i
dcers whose names appeared on that |
fatal list were deprived Of their swords,
and the catastrophe was no longer 10 be |
avoided. Blood was in the eyes Of the
soldiers, and none IN the cheeks Of the
oficers-vengeance was in the hearts
Of the men, and fear in the souls Of the
commanders. There was q quick roll
of the drum--a few explosive orders
a sudden rush-a sort Of dizzy whirl;
the Lieutenant-Colonel narrowly es-
capped, and. by a quick movement of the
guard, a Sergeant and several men,
whose names were on the paper, were
arrested and lodged in the guard-house.
A double force was posted to prevent
the rescue of the prisoners-and the
immediate danger was over.
After the storm, the calm. The anK-
iety of some men to get into trouble is
only exceeded by their solicitude TO get
out Of il. 1t happened so with these.
The violent and headlong haste of the
action was eclipsed only by the reaction.
To the swordless officers musing in their
separate tents, and the imprisoned sol
diers discussing the affair between their
bars. there came, in due time, repent
ance and regret.
Through the clemency Of the man
whom they sought to destroy, there was
at last afforded, on certain conditions,
the opportunity to erase their names
from that black muster-roll, and secure
restoration to duty. Some quickly,
others reluctantly, but finally all availed
themselves of the absolution, except
one-the Sergeant, the leader, the prime
mover and champion of the affair.
He scorned forgiveness; it implied an
acknowledgment of guilt. He would
stand by the deed; whatever the law
called it, he held it Just resistance to
! tyranny. He had sought no mans life.
He had felt: "We cannot live together; (;
therefore, do thou 60 thy way, and
will mine;" and he had simply said so.
If that were a crime, he could not help
it. No matter if a thousand men were
towards, he had not the blood of pol
troon in his veins. He should never
promise-touch his hat, and. bowing
low, beg TO have his name blotted out
of that list. His soul revolted at it. He
would live and die by that solemn pro-
test against the authority of domi-
neering coward and incompetent COM
mander.
So the law took him and tried him
before a general court-martial, found
him guilty, and sentenced him "to be
shot TO death.n The General approved
the finding and sentence of the court,
and the day and hour of the execution
were fixed in an order that was read,
on certain evening at dress-parade, to
each regiment of the division. And
| rsf kI,N ,,.In
fell on the whole command.
The law was inexorable, and the
court had no alternative. Being guilty,
this was the punishment prescribed,
without that saving clause which puts
the offender at the mercy of the court
cor such other punishment as the court
may direct" But did he deserve
deathP Not a man in all the command
believed it. The men knew it was the
letter of the law that was staying him;
but how to invoke its spirit, and
whether the spirit could save him if it
would, sOrely puzzled them. They were
satisfied that he should be punished,
but by something less severe and irrev-
ocable than death.
With what crushing weight the
thought came home to their hearts that
a good soldier, true patriot, was to be
shot for technicality, at the end of a
long war through which he had faith.
fully served! How they talked about
that lonesome, weary wife, and her
eager and expectant children, away al
the North, watching with bated breath
the opening of the mail that was SO
soon. if not to-day, to bring her the
news of the final discharge of the sec
ond cavalry! Who could hold pen to
write this other news in its steadP Who
could send home to her the picture OF
her own sweet face, with the curl Of
baby's hair on the glass, as he had worn
it next his heart so many years, through
all danger by flood and field, and write
the words: "This, with his undying
love, he bade me send youths last re,
quest?"
Did ever the reluctant days drag {
man to such hopeless, bootless dooml
If only he had fallen on some fierce
battle field, madly striking for his coun
tryl If only he had been slain on the
picket lines, plotting the grand ole
army to vietoryl If he could have dice
in the hospital, slowly wasted away by
incurable wounds or disease! If only il
any way his blood might have been
reckoned as part the price paid fol
liberty and free government!
But no-none of these. The very
record of his devotion to his country'l
cause, and of his faithful years of untir
ing service, was to be blotted out. Hi
memory was to be blackened forever
and his name to become a legacy o
shame to his children; and yet they
knew he was conscious of no crimei
Was it possible to save him in any
way? Could he be pardoned, or hi
sentence be commutedP Yes, but only
one man could do 1.-THE General
Would he do itP Only one man in al
the command could ask it and hope t.
be heard-the Lieutenant-C Colonel
Would he do it?
The days of respite passed rapidly
and the anxiety and sympathy for the
doomed man constantly increased in {
i cumulative ratio. At last the indis
pensable man arrived at division head
quarters with Petition for Pardon, y
and asked the staff to sign it. Every
valid reason that could be found wa
urged, and he went away with all ou
names. He Jared the same at the
brigade headquarters; and by the time
he reached the commanders of regi
ments, who all signed it, the repor
had rejoioed the hearts of every tent
squad in the whole division. They b1leU
it would be granted-the General coulC
not avoid it; he wouldn't dare to shoe
, him in the face of that list of names
! There was a threat of vengeance lurk