Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-10-21

Il 4 II y
/ CAPT. JOHN H. WooDDELL, \
| who died August the 9Th, 1852,
| aged IS years, months and 25
l., " days."
Inc above inscription is distinctly chis-
eled on peculiar, coffin shaped slab, which
may be seen,s half buried in the earth, il
the Northwest corner of Augusta county
Virginia, and about one hundred 600
yards from "Wooddell Spring."
Tradition says, that Capt. John Wood
dell, Ito whose memory the stone is in
scribed, and who lived near the Spring thai
bears his name), was an officer in the wal
of '12; that. at its conclusion, he returned tt
his mountain home, where he remained un-
til his death; that in ramble one day OF
the mountain he chanced upon the odd
looking slab, and, being near so years o
age, fancied it for his grave; that, assisted
by the neighbors, he drew it from the lofty
height to its present resting place; and
further, that he arranged with marble
cutter to engrave the aboue on it, which
was duly done after his demise.
The body of the old man, however, doei
not rest beneath the stone. 1t sleeps in &
neighboring church-yard, while the stone
still lies where he placed it near 40 year,
ago.
The slab in length, from point to point
IS about seven y feet; in width, from
point to point, about three (3) feet.
Isubjoin with the following lines
Before me lies slab from unknown quarry,
On which Phidias' chisel never came.
And such as would have made Hugh Miller
tarry
To mark Its beauty, and to give a name.
Diamond, or cofin-like, in shape and measure
Its face smooth and level surface wears,
And, all unchanged, the old red sand stone
treasure
From Natures mould. its virgin impres,
bears.
Or did some Aztec hand, in ages early,
Thus hew 1t for a chief. or loved one dear.
To speak his worth. or tell he loved her dearly
A fine conceit, but supposttIon mere.
Not far away,-just on yon mountain shoulder,
This rocky relic had its native home;
There he, whose name 1t bears,-whose ashes
moulder,
Found it one day as he did idly roam.
A fancy took him then. so soul-possessing.
1t would not yield, till fancy turned to fac
For four-score years were daily on him press
ing,
Which helpe him to the thought, and to the
act.
The whim was this: To have the tablet by
him,
Ready to mark the grave at his decease,
Lest an ungrateful world should that deny
him,
And memory of his past existence cease.
Anon the steep,-the neighbors in procession.
He climbed to take the prize with youthful
glow;
Thence down from slope to slope, in the re-
gression,
He drew it here near forty years ago.
Scene worthy pa vinci's master TOUGHEST!
An old man with his grave-stone toifing
down
The mount, while haply on some crag de-
bouches
A stag to stare, and shake his horny crown
To have the plan complete. he then dictated
The words to be engraved, at his demise:
Yea, more, the marble-cutter paid, ills stated
Who carved the record, where the tablet lies
But not here is the old war. Captain sleeping
A distent church-yard holds his treasured
dust;
Sad commentary this on children keeping,
In sacredness, an aged fathers trusti
Did say Captain7 Yes; host invading
Tradition says, "The war of Twelve,"-hs
rose,
Buckled his sword. and fought the fos up
braid,ng.
Till victory came, and war was at a close.
Then he returned to this-then hidden valley,
Beneath these towering mountain-tops to
dwell,
rally
Right here he lived, and went forth with the
morning,
And here at twilight, lit the evening fire;
Here banched his locks,-life's winter day
adorning,
And here Times aged child knelt to expire.
Gone are the walls of his log habitation!
But heap of stones tells where the chimney
stQ d:
This, with the orchard, and imagination,
Will reconstruct again the scene we would.
But the memorials here, the body's yonder!
Was then his case to be remembered vain?
Not so: for more pause here to read and pom
der,
Than ever would behind yon church-yard
fame.
And Nature, too, gives further compensation.
In that she weeps. in tears, healing Spring.
Which bears his name down to each genera
ton,
And Wooddell" murmurs with a silver ring
Happy, you say. the one to whom twas given
To claim. the slab and name that noted
springi
heaven.
Which Christ to all is freely offering.
Often, no doubt our hero heard the offer,
But, that he took tn gift, we cannot tell;
If not, spite what he may have had, with scof-
fer
And unbeliev vers all he went to dwell.
The Jesus-stone has on it plainly written
Gods name, His City's and recipients;
'Tis white to show how blood of Christ can
whiten,
And pledges heavenly bliss to penitents.
The fount of God-and like it there's no other
Eternal life and kindred blessings brings;
Yes, ne, VINO drinks, mas Cnr1SL as MS own
brother.
And holds communion with the King of
Kings.
Go see the "Wooddell Stone," and quaff the
fountain,
And let them lead thee to Gods greatest
Gift:
Go climb, as type of life. the rugged mountain.
And with each step to God the soul uplift.
r. M. TUTTLE.
"Wooddell Spring. August 18th, 1885.
LUCK VS.. LABOR.-Luck is waiting for
something to turn up. Labor, with keen
eyes and strong will, will turn up some-
thing. Luck lies in bee and wishes the
postman would come and bring him the
news of legacy. Labor turns out at six
O'Clock, and with busy pen or ringing ham,
mer lays the foundation for com netence.
Luck whines. Labor whistles. Luck re-
lies on chances. Labor on character. Luck
slips down to indulgence Labor strides up
to ind peudence.-Richard Golden.
There's nothing half SO sweet in life
fNaxt tn the iOyS of home and vife)