The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1906-01-25
SOLDIERS AT HOME.
THEY TELL SOME INTERESTING
ANECDOTES OF THE WAR.
How the Boys of Both Armies WhiIed
Away Life In Camp-Foraxing Ex-
periences, Tiresome Marches-Thril.
Ting Scenes ON the Battlefield

wal. IQu uOt DCCA wi
gotten, and desolation still hung over
the South like a great black shadow.
The plenty of the past, the poverty
of the present, the dark certainty of
the future, haunted memories, and
heartaches and tears were in the place
of joyous feeling and gladful smiles.
The terrors of yesterday, the suffering
Of the to-day, and the forebodings Of
the morrow would form no back
ground for a Christmas like those of
the use-to-be
The James flowed on to the sea,
washing its muddy waters against the
ce-bordered banks. 4 light snow on
the hard, unyielding earth only add
ed to the gloom. The wind moaned
through the winter-swept pines.
Fences strewed the dirt roads still
marked by the heavy ruts of artillery.
Here and there was the charred and
blackened wreck of some bones Of
some faithful horse whose rider lay,
perhaps. beneath an unmarked mound
in the little burying ground about the
shell-battered church, the spire of
which just rose above the hills in
the distance. What a picture Of de-
spairl And it was Christmas morn
ing-Christmas morning. And the
great world was echoing with the an
gelic melody, peace on earth, good
will to men,
With unbending figure he stood
leaning against one of the heavy pill
lars that supported the portico to
one of the historic mansions. A black
SLOUGH hat was pulled down over the
long gray hair. The suit he wore was
only part civilian. The coat was
gray and tightly buttoned about the
waist-the one relic, besides the sa-
no more. Was he thinking of the
last Christmas in camp, of forage
before sunrise. q roasted pig held
over the logs with bayonets, an inter
rupted feast, and a charge on Christ
mas evening that had written the
names of heroes on the page of his
tory? Was it that?
Across the field the smoke foated
upward from the mud-smeared CHM
ney of a hut-several huts. 1t was
where the negroes lived. Two tot
tering old men, two boys, big enough
to work in the field. and one old wom-
an-that was all. The rest had gone.
One of the boys was bringing the
horse from water. AS it followed its
ragged groom along the road it made
a strange contrast with the surround
ings: for. fat and sleek, it seemed as
if there must be plenty everywhere
vet the barn. like everything else, was
almost depleted. How closely he had
watched the animal, From the call
to arms until the bugle sounded for
the final taps it had been his constant
companion. And then, after all was
over, they had come back through
Richmond and then to the old home.
He smiled when he remembered how
old charger and a solitary mule to
pillow and worked until the faithful
mule had died. There was not
enough in the field or the stable for
two.
The old men and the boys had
joined each other and were coming
across to the house. In the kitchen
"Auntie' was making corn bread and
frying bacon. Christmas morning in
a mansion on the James and corn
bread and bacon for breakfast. In
the dining room she-she who had
borne so much-was setting the plates
1.-TWO plates). How she thought of
the faces that had gathered three
years ago. some that were no more!
She finished, and, going up stairs,
brought down a Bingham apron. She
made it herself-made it over from
an old one she had worn. With eyes
full of tears she handed it to the dear
old "Auntie" and whispered Merry
Christmas" She could say no more.
Memory was bringing up visions of
servants quarters-an apron for each
woman, a dress for each child, with
a coin In each pocket. But those days
were gone and the slaves had van
ished.
The four colored men had stopped
in the road and were talking. He
came in from the porch and said a
word to her, and they Sit down by
the window. He gazed over the river,
and she laid her head on his arm and
cried softly to herself. Both were
looking into the past. and both saw
the same pictures. 1t was Christmas
morning on the plantation. The house
was full Of young people. In the par
Tor a log fire cracked on the hearth,
and there were laughter and shouts of
merriment. And such a breakfast!
What stores were brought from the
smokehouse, how proud were all the
negro women as they bore them along
the board walk that led from the great
old-fashioned kitchen to the dining
room in the mansion! Then after the
breakfast all had gathered on the
front porch. On the steps were all
scraped as "Marse" Arthur came out
of the door with "Missus' ON his armI
Then came the black boys with great
walters of hot coffee. How the eyes
Of the men grew big as the cups when
handed to them! How each drank it
down until a coin at the bottom of
the cup struck against his teeth! And
then a Thanks, Marse Arthur; Gawd
bless yo' an Missus." And then they
would go off for a holiday. He looked
at her and sighed.
"Oh, Arthur she said.
He stroked her head and then arose
and walked to the cupboard. He took
down coffee jar and held it to the
window. 1t was scarcely half filled.
Then, turning, he called:
Fannie ~
"Auntie" came lettering in.
Eyes, sah," she said, with a low
bow.