Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1889-12-12
sMAMMY's BOYS.n
An incident Of tho War.

when Sherldens men were rlulng up |
the valley to hit Gen. Early last blow,
that score of us were wheeled ont of
column to scout by-road and pick up |
the stragglers from the Confederate
ranks who were lodging about to get
home. Half mile from the main col
umn we ran upon the blackened ruins |
and tall chimneys of an old Virginia
mansion One could see by glancing |
over the grounds that people of wealth |
and refinement had lived there, and in |
the ruins one could read another page of |
the book of war. Those great chimneys, |
standing grim, and SILENT and alone,
with blackened family hearth-stones for
pedestals, and with apex resting place
for the great buzzards which few hither
and van, always told of the tears and
heartaches of war. Peace has removed
them or hidden them behind the climb
ing rose or ivy, but the heart of those
who still live must ache as memory goes
back to the dates and deeds of blood
and destruction
A few rods below the ruins was a
frame barn, which had been converted
into temporary dwelling. gray
haired man and woman had taken shell
/ ter there, and close behind it, on the
sun-kissed hill, was a new made grave.
Less than week ago a daughter had
1 been buried there-a daughter who was
also wife and mother Sheridan had
moved swiftly. We had come too soon-
/ In the house, as we rode up was the
stricken husband of the dead wife,
Drawing all dangers to return as soon
as word reached him, but arriving too
late. On his knee he held his chubby,
/ yellow haired boy Of 4, and beside him
/ stood old black NANNY" the tears
streaming down her aged cheeks as she
/ laid hand on his shoulder and sooth-
ingly said;
"She's better of In Heaven, Mars
Gauge-heap better. lie dun broke
my old heart ober it, but faint
no good. You's got little Tom left, an
thank the Lawd, lie got boat my boys
10 live furl"
She had sung the father to sleep in
his baby days, and father and son were
"her boysv-her big and little boy.
An escort had come with the father
aud husband, for he was q Major.
There we're six men in the orchard on
the hill, and we had come up SO quietly
that we were unnoticed uutil we were
almost upon them Then they did q
gallant thing to favor their chief. They
were outnumbered three or four to one,
but they advanced on foot and opened
fire to check and hold us until the Major
could get out. They did hold us for
five minutes, killing one and wouuding
two men, but they had better retreated
like cravens or surrendered like women.
We soon drove them back, killing half
their number, and as we swept up TO
the house old mamma appeared IN the
door, threw up her hands and walled
out:
May the Lawd nebber furgive We fur
whet We hav dun TO dis poor family"
The fight had been sharp and quick.
We were on the march, under orders to
move swiftly, and the idea was to kill OF
capture and report to the column as
soon as possible. None Of us knew that
the barn was tenanted by the people
driven out Of the house further up the
hill. 1t was in the line Of fire and oul
bullets went through it. When the
fight was over the Major lay dead under
peach tree near the back door, killed
as he came out to direct his men, and in
the house was a sight to break our
hearts. Mammys little boy" was
corpse. horribly disfgured by a carbine
ball which had struck him in the face
Grandpa and grandma, white haired
aged, and bent, sat mute and helIl l'sre
| their hearts telling them that We block
murderers and old Nanny; me- and -. -
face looking as hard as y" aattoed-
ewes blazing like tig ,ir horIr'.s..a1 +
us and PORTED to on. - s..
and cried: !, ,,l,er -
yo den ! - - =