The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1888-01-27

everything which could be spared further
south. On the 9th of June, the day be
| fore that fixed for the execution, Gen. X
\ Kirby Smith wrote no less than thirteen
! dispatches from Knoxville in aiifferen
\ directions, the general purport Of which
\ was that the enemy was advancing with
4 overwhelming forces, and that Chatta
4 nooga would fall and East Tennessee have
to be abandoned, and giving directions fol-
/ lines OF retreat and for removing the
stores. OF course, to arrange for an exc
.cution on the 9Th, in the face of an ad
| vancing enemy, might have led to a very
sudden pardon; and, accordingly, Andrews
| and his companions were ordered to At
9anta once more on the early morning
Grain. There was again the excited
crowds, an inyariable accompaniment OF
our frequent transits over this road; but
In addition, the fact that Andrews was ia
die was published, and he was taunted
frequently with references to his approach
ing doom. These he bore with his usual
calm, sad patience
An instance in connection with these
prosecutions is especially pathetic. A Mr..
Whiteman came on the cars, and, advanc-
ing to where Andrews was, accosted him.
PARROT, who gives the account, was
sitting on the seat behind, and could not
help hearing all the conversation.
The merchant said, what can you do,
Mr.. Andrews, about that SIC 900 let you
have for the purchase OF quinine and
other things?'
Andrews replied, "Mr whiteman, this
ia NO time to talk about money. II you
had done as / wished you to do in Chat
tanooga, you would have had all that
onlr 4,.vfn n. A..
understood Andrews to refer to some pro-
position that Andrews had made to Mr..
Whiteman on his trial, aEd the failure to
accept which was the greatest disappont-
ment that Andrews had then experienced J
Whiteman continued, as that all you
have 70 say, Mr.. Andrewss''
eyes, sir, that is ALL" responded the
doomed man. With gesture of deep
disappointment, Whiteman turned on his
heel and walked rapidly away.
The death procession reached Atlanta u
little after noon, and the prisoners were
conducted by their guard to room used
as barracks, two squares from the depot.
Here they were kept under close guard
awaiting the completion Of the arrange
ments for the military murder. The foot
chains had not been removed from An
drews, and rs he walked up into his room
with the short, halting step that they re-
quired, the clanking was horrible. Not
very much was said in these few sad
moments. Andrews did speak in his
quiet way of the better life, and his wish
to meet all his comrades in heaven. His
words could not fail of making a deep
impression, though hope of vengeance for
the coming deed would have been sweeter
to the poor boys than almost any kind of
prospect beyond the grave. But soon q
body OF strange soldiers came up to the
building. Their commander entered and
asked Andrews In very respectful tone
If he was ready now. The latter answered
in the affirmative, and then babe Good
by'' to the comrades who had passed
through so many dangers with him.
The procession moved ont Peachtree
street the most fashionable and beautiful
street of Atlanta, and continued for about
two miles from the depot. On the way,
the provost marshal asked Rev. w. j.
Scott, a Methodist clergyman, to accom-
pany them and act as chaplain. He
almost refused, but Andrews spoke in his
winning, courteous manner, saying, 'T
would be glad to have you go, SIR" Such
an appeal Scott could not resist, and at
tended him to the last, writing many
years after his recollection of the affair.
A great crowd. in addition to the strong
guard, went along, but there appears to
have been no unseemly taunts or disorder
TO Mr. Scott Andrews gave substantially
the same account of the enterprise that
has already been given, colored little by
the fact that he did not wish even in
death to say one word that might in any
way injure those comrades who had been
SO true to him.
No element Of pathos in the terrible
scene was lacking. A few scores Of yards
from the road, in little valley, scat
fold was erected. There were thin woods
around, and night was coming on. A
rope circle fenced off the spectators to o
respectful distance. Mr.. Scott spoke the
words that he judged fitting; Rev. Mr..
Conyers led in prayer; Rev. Mr.. Connor
administered some religious counsel to
the patient prisoner who probably
thought that all the sins of which he re-
pented were less than the sin of rebellion
Of which they were guilty. No coffin was
provided, but few hundred feet away
the grave was already open. The signal
was given, and the not uncommon bung-
ling Of an execution added new horrors.
Tho cotton rope stretched so that the
oIdChiSu lctI IcdCucu tuc BrOunu. ETOlIl
motives of humanity the ground was
shoveled away, and the soul liberated.
The pathos OF this death Is indescrib-
able. The drop falls and the nero physi-
cal agony is soon over. The body, weak
ened by the last terrible struggle for life
made not So much for self as for tho
loving heart in far away Flem-agsburg-
cannot long resist. Then the corpse is
taken down; the horror bound spectators
still linGer. The poor remains of q man
OF superb beauty and princely endowments
are carried to the shallowgrave on little
hill crest, and there, near large stone,
(Which may mark the grave, If any friend
ever wants to know where it is" as
spectator charitably said, he is laid to
rest. There is no shroud The only
grave clothes are the tattered garments
left from the last sad race for life. Can
the reader conceive anything more pitiful
than the view presented just before the
damp earth is thrown on the cold, up
turned face? The busy brain, from which
came daring enterprises and cool action,
is quiet forever. The limbs that toiled SO
far Tor patriotism, fame, perhaps for ven
geance, and at last for life, labor no more.
The heart so true to country and COM
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