The free lance. (Fredericksburg, Va.) 1885-1926, 1901-03-28
THE SOLDIER
And THE BARD

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Soeooo0oooooseooo0oeoeoOo0
The round, red sun bounded superbly
into the heavens and gazed upon
scene that was as unusual as 1t was
impressive. The rugged slopes Of the
Cumberland mountains in the north
rested under blanket Of moving oh
jects In blue, and Nt the foot of the
range thousands of men In the gray
uniforms of the COnfederacy were
slowly approaching like a huge storm
cloud. The muskets reflected steely
shafts of light In the suns rays, the
sabers of officers clankcd nolsily,
horses nelghed and whinnied and
pranced. and the thunderous tread OF
the thousands shook the ground. The
gray cloud came nearer and nearer,
and when within half mile of the
Federal forces the low toned order,
"Haltr passed along the lines. In
stantly the rumbling tread ceased.
The army saw the encampmcnt
above them, the blue cloud of uni
forms and the officers tents, like stars,
I'm the rear. Each soldier IA he gazed
felt the hot blood of excitement surge
through his veins, felt lnstinctively
that the next was his last hour and
said prayers accordingly, yet each was
ready and willing to sacrifice his life
for the cause and gloried In the name
he imagined that death for its sake
would give him.
A sudden commotiOn sounded at the
'front.' Excited orders flew swiftly
from lip to lip. officers were scurrying
hither and thither seemingly without
aim or purpose, all was hustle and ami
nation. Then the private In the ranks
saw that above him, on the slopes OF
the mountain, the blue cloud OF uni
forms was forming In regiments,
SQUADS, battalions and companies and
that as horsemen In the fore slashed
the air with their swords the Federal
forces swept down the slopes like an
avalanche of death. Then came that
soul thrilling word:
CHARGE
The contendIng armies FLASHED like
two mOnstrous waves. and fearful car
mage ensued The soul racking roar of
cannon on the slopes. the rattle of mus
kets and screechng Of shot and shell
bursting In air, the clashlng and slash
lug of sabers. the agonized shrleks of
slaughtered humanity all combined in
q volume of thunderOus clamor that
shook the planets above. Wounded
and dying were trampled and crushed
to a Jelly beneath the feet Of men and
beasts, and heaps of mangled flesh and
bone were scattered over the green
earth. from which emanated the
groans and shrieks Of agonlzed vic
tins.
The soldier. wounded and dying.
crawled from n bloody heap of slauSh-
tered comrades and on his qulvering
hands and knees sought shady spot
from the carnage waging on the field.
His head was torn by shell bursting
near. and from a ragged hole In his
breast his lifeblood Oozed in frlghtful
gushes. In the grateful shade Of a
large bowlder he spread himself at full
length and, praying fervently. with
feeble voice, gazed with face distorted
into the blue sky above.
A figure on bold peak attracted his
eyes, and as he gazed 1t came slowly
down toward him with extreme eau
ton. 1t was the bard, and he carried
in his hand book and a pencil. See
Ing the dying soldier, he came to his
side, knelt on one knee and said:
"Your name. my man."
A voice almost inarticulate, choked
with clotted blood and enfeebled by
lacking breath, replied as the soldier
turned his face YEARLY to the bard:
Luther Margrove, SIR"
Before the poet spoke again the sol
der heaved a deep, tremulOus sigh, ut
tered the words, AT last" and sank
into a profound sleep. The bard watch
ed the red face, heated with excite
ment and distorted hideously with the
savage spirit Of war. slowly melt to
less feroclous expression. A purple
flush stole slowly into the cheeks,
white, CLASSY film obscured the eye
balls, the eyebrows settled evenly. and
then. as the face became snowy white.
the bard knew that life was now en-
tirely extinct. that the man had gone
from his life's dwelling and was now
being of another world.
The poet stole reverently away and,
gaining the high eminence whence he
had come, gazed eagerly on the fright
full havoc waged far below him In the
valley. AS the sun sunk from yellow
sky to rest behind the purple noun
tains far away and sent his last de-
parting shafts at the figure on the
peak, clothing him in golden halo Of
light, the bard raised his hands aloft
and cried:
"Thank God for this sight! What an
lnspirationl HencefOrth am the great
est of poets"
The mangled soldier by the bowlder
died In obscurity for his country's
sake, his flesh shriveled in the hot rays
of many suns, and his bones were
bleached to a snowy white. This man,
who endured the fiendlsh fortunes Of
war, suffered agony and bled his last
spark OF life away for the future Of his
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