The National tribune., 1882-09-09
GEORGE MORGAN, IN THE PHIAoeLPHA TIMES.
FRANKLIN, Tenn, Aug. is.

girls waist he may get fair idea of the
" the Harpeth River curves around the
En of Franklin. The coat sleeve thus gal
ltly pressing the frock forms a sort of U,
d so the river, with Franklin in the short
nd, cuts out from the plain the huge horse
oe into which Hood. on the last day of
ovember, 1864, threw his 10000 men to
ush Schofield's 1900 therein intrenched.
oreover, if the reader will place his left
rist, with the fingers of that hand widely
ttended, at the crook of the elbow, he may
mplete the illustration, for five roads like
le thumb and four fingers lead out from a
pot called Five Points," in the heart of
ne town, across the plain over which Hood
dvanced.
Climbing Roper's Knob, which, as part
IF bluff OH the north side of the stream.
stands in bold contrast with the level land
to the South, [ had a view of the whole
pleasing picturs-the Harpeth cleaning in
the sunlight like silver bow, the lovely
town among trees in its embrace, and beyond
q thousand fields threaded by the FIVE white
road beds as though by cords of silk. What
was before me did not seem like a place of
strife, but it was the famous Franklin field
and upon it was fought the fereest little
battle of the war;
MEN MAD DOWN IN THEIR BOOTS.
The battle waB terrific because the men on
both sides were mad from crown to heel
On Hoods side there were hosts of Tennes-
seeans angry at despOiled homes. Their feet
were bruised on tlinty roads and frozen
fields. A trail of blood had marked the
track Of more than one barefooted regiment,
and winter was sharply on with its first
snow. In the knapsacks of the dead could
be found bits of bark, roots, and pone.
Hoods hungry battalions had followed the
fat trail of the Yankee cOmmissary through
four States, and Schofeld was in a trap in
the Harpeth horseshoe, with a river at his
back. But Schofeld's men were mad, too.
They had been driven from post to pillar,
until they chaffed at further retreat Their
line stretched along the skirts of the town
from river to river, and they were anxious
as well as ready for the fight.
eyes, sab; hit was right heahl hit was
right heah, sab, dat ole Moss Hood bit off
moah'n he cud chaw," said ST, the darkey
driver, as we came down the Knob, crossed
the Harpeth and trotted out the Columbia
turnpike. And when l added: "And, hay
off more than he could chew, he
death in the act of deglutition,"
tiled me with: Deed, l spec so
no bout de degluten bizness, but
swallorin'"
ONE LEGEND OF FRANKLIN
AS we approached the Federal line the
driver pointed out a large brick house,
shaded by locust trees, and, refining in his
horses, began impressively: "You was in
quirin' wedder dar amt no one partickler
story bout de battle dat holds on to de
folks OBJ de town. What am dat ar 'spres-
sion you slung out wild reference to hit?"
Legend"
"Dat's hit, legen'; yes, sab, an de legen'
is bout dat ar house, Colonel Carter's, up
dar. Young Cappen Carter, dis present
cOlonePs brudder, was one OBJ de rebs, an
he hadn been home to see his NAH flrr
foah yeah. He was wild Moss Hood, an so
thought he'd kind O. slip ober home. Up
he comes to de gate, an sees his NAH peekin
out to de window. 20 honey!' says his
nah, nice a misses ez eber was. An de
cappen he hists up the latch an stans still a
mint. He seed the poorly yahd wild de
locus trees all roun', where he use ter play
wild de bitties wen he was teeny, tiny
young 'un, an den he gin to cry. Poah
cappen! he gin to cry, he did, an ez he
hists de latch OBJ de gate he says: Thank
de good God in de sky, Use home agin to
my fathers house,"
"Well, go on, ST."
whats de use talllin' any noah, boss.
Coase he nebber got in de house, Hit hit
i'm 'twixt the eyes, right heah. Yes, sab
Cappen Carter diden' keer furr dem bullets,
case he'd seed so many afore, but dat un
killed i'm deadern doah nail"
WHERE THE HOT FIGHTING WAS.
We hitched to the locust tree by the
gate where Captain Carter, whose name is
mentioned affectionately in the chronicles
of his comrades, was said to have fallen,
anu Wdlkcu around Une mousse. L ne southern
end shows many marks of mimic balls and a
frame structure adjoining seems to have !
been peppered with small shot SO, too, the |
outbuildings and the trees offer evidences |
of the conflict, for here the Federal centre |
was boldly salient, the fanks resting on the
river to the right and left. The present |
owner of the plantation, Colonel Carter,
looked as warlike as his battered premises |
when we caught glimse of him, with |
gun on his shoulder, striding in from
locust thicket, where he had been shooting |
birds. The gun was less talkative than the
colonel, however, and he not only forgave the |
intrusion, but kindly showed me that part |
of the field. From his yard he pointed out
the hills whence emerged Hoods lines of
battle and indicated all places to be famous
in history.
COMETS TAIL of COWARDs.
Neither through love nor by money could
have found so good guide. This was the
very ground of slaughter, and Colonel Carter
was not only q trained observer in the fury
of the fight, but for eighteen years he has
trod with his heel and turned with his hoe
the bloody soil. "At the time of the fight"
he said, 81 was home on parole. Generals
SobofaId ond Cox had their headuuarterS |