The Lexington dispatch. [volume] (Lexington, South Carolina) 1870-1917, 1901-08-21

there lie the ashes of Emerson, HaW'
thorne, Thoreau and Louisa NJ. Al
colt. A rugged stone, with simply
his name carved in bronze, marks the
resting place of the great Essaylst.
"Hawthorne," cut on plain slab and
enclosed by rude fence has failed
to conceal the identity Of him who
sleeps below, for the shrubs all strip
ped of their leaves plainly tell OF
the many pilgrimages Of fond ad-
mirers anxious to bring away some
tangible reminder of American g
greatest novelist. Plainly lettered
shafts show US the last resting place
of the famous naturalist and near
him sleeps the woman whose jnimit-
able books have frightened and in
spired our happy childhood's days.
One is impressed with the simplicity
of it all. They are altogether incon-
spicious and would easily escape your
notice. I hunted Hawtborne's grave
two hours and was all the time within
q radius of 60 yards of the place.
Greatness needs no tall monuments.
Now We follow the British back to
Lexington. (Just the thoughts OF
standing on this soil will thrill with
delight any son of the. Empire
county of South Carolina.) The
battlefield is now kept as kind OF
park, called Commons" throughout
the northeast. A huge boulder that
served to protect number OF Amer
ican soldiers is still standing just as
it was when it rendered such service
to our cause. Across the commons
tall shaft, now overgrown with grace
full Boston ivy, tells where the princi-
pal fighting was done. At the north
ern end fountain stands. It con-
sists of a huge granite base sup
porting the figure of a soldier done
in bronze and of heroic size. In
ninche at the base bubbles up cool,
sparkling water, symbolizing, fancy
the free and abundant tide of Amer
lean wealth, independence and pros
perity as having its source in the
events that took place on that small
battlefield.
The return trip to Boston was for
US far more pleasant that for those
retreating British on that memorable
18Th Of April. Uneven ground, stone
fences, great boulders and dense for
ests, all still represented, offered the
Americans ample cover from which
they poured that deadly and demoral-
izipg fire. Here and there, however,
a marble slab tells in simple words
where brave soldier fell.
Once more in Boston, and as ft-
ting crown to day filled with hal
lowed association and memories, we
turned toward Mount Auburn-the
most beautiful cemetery in the world.
My friend and guide observed that
most of US want to 60 to heaven
when we die, but Bostonians want to
90 to Mount Auburn. Truly it is a
lovely place and one is tempted to
think that they are not so very wrong
after all. Within that sacred soil lies
more of genius, wealth and culture
than in any similar plot in Amer
ica. Lowell, Longfellow, Holmes,
Agassiz and others equally famous
are sleeping there. Standing with
uncovered head by Longfellow's
grave the lines of the Psalms OF
Life come trooping through my
brain, and I thought Ct the many
who have drawn strength and en-
couragement from its beautiful lines.
Truly he left many footprints to
guide forlorn and shipwrecked broth
ers over life's trackless and treacher-
Gus main. At his head is this strange
device: