Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1886-05-29

Of war, and in a short time It burst upon
the country In ali its terror and honor.
Tn, 90 quiet hills echoed the sounds Of
the bugle and the drum from morning
till night. Down in the town companies
were forming and regiments waited to
be ordered toward the front. Wilbur
Rafhbone commanded a company, and
waited IN camp for an order 70 depart.
Before he left the news came one day
that our Willis had Joined the confeder-
ate army; that he was captain Of a com
pany under LOngsUeet. 1 tried to doubt
that awful story. / would not believe it
4 could not. That he had left us In
anger was sorry and disgrace enough; to
know that he was in arms against his
and our country was too great an Attic
ton to be calmly borne. His father
raved like a madman, and forbade us to
speak Of Willis In his presence.
81 saw Wilbur march away, with a
heart heavier than stone. If my boy
had only been with him, it seemed TO me
as though I could have Wept from Joy.
But now, these two whose lives had been
spent In brOtherly cOmpanionship were
in arms against each other. The roll Of
the drums sounded In my ears day after
day, and would not die out, even after
every soldier had been sent on to tue
south. awoke night after night from
dreams OF battles in which 1 saw my
Willis wounded and dying. Sometimes
I called his name IN my sleep and ms
groans Of anguish would waken me.
when the body Of Wilbur RathbOne
was sent home, envied his mother her
sorrow. He had died for his country
died for freedom. I stood dry-eyed by
his grave, loving him as a son, and feel
ing that my own sorrow was greater
than death. Ny daughter died a few
months later. This affection We bore
unmurmuringly; but that other, that IN
speakable sOrrOW, grelVed us increasingly.
''A last /, too, grew stern and unre-
lenting toward my son, L banished him
from my thoughts. 1 drove his memory
from my heart. 1 had no forgiveness
for him. And so the years went on
those awful years of war when the whole
county mourned and suffered. At last
it was over. Peace cana and the country
bound up its wounds and began to live
again. Nearly a year later we learned
that Willis had been killed whils fight
ing at Chickamauga. His fathers
heart sOftened then. He wept and muir
INJURED affectionate excuses for him. But
II felt relieved to know that should
never see his face again. They talk
about the deathless tenderness Of a
mothers heart; but mine had its day of
hardness. Always, always this thought
stung me; I, a patriot, the daughter OF
patriots, was the mother Of a son who
had defied his parents and fought
against his country.
''Three years later my husband died,
and was left alone. He spoke Of Willis
often In the last days OF his life But I
was silent.
'.Not till long, long after did I find in
my heart forgiveness for my ernng son.
I realized at last that I had no right to
Judge him; that If he erred perhaps I
was to blame. know now that the pas
sions, sorrow and evils Of life became as
nothing In the sweep OF time. He was
buried In the trenche at Chickamauga.
L cannot lay a flower on his grave, so L
come on the day they honor soldiers and
lay my tributes on the earth that covers
the body Of Wilbur, his best beloved
friend. Somehow feel that Willis I'M
derstands and knows that in my heart
are flowers Of ELECTION for him. They
were both dear to me.
eyes, he surely understands. have
long felt that, and have long ceased to
grieve. Both my boys are safe-safe
and dead. All is we'll with them
She ceased to speak, and stood with
her hands resting on the soldiers head
stone, her eyes seeing visions of the past,
and nothing Of the present The boy
sat in the grass at the foot of the grave,
with tears dripping down his brown
cheeks. The tale had touched him, little
as he could understand the deep tragedy
Of it. And I heard again the clash and
thunder OF war, saw the blazing fires Of
battle and felt, in a rush Of memory the
fierce fever OF those vanished days of
carnage.
The boy followed me out to the road
side. do you Think he said, earnest
ly, as I mounted my horse, "do you
think there viii be another war here in
my time?'
81 think not; I hope not" I answere
He looked disappointed. II want
fight he said, eagerly; 'for I have
sword that was my grandfather's."
rode away from that lonesome spot
full Of sad thought. All contentious,
strife and anger seemed SO needless; all
suffering gratuitOus. Yet, thank God,
peace and rest always come at last.