Staunton spectator and vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1896-1916, 1910-03-11
A tribute TO THE
Confederate SOLDIERS.

The following letter was prepared by
Capt. b. Weller, of Los Angeles, who
was member of Gen. J. E. B. Stuart
and Major General Fitzhugh Lees
staffs of the Confederate Army of Vir-
ginia, and read at the Reunion of Camp
40 Confederate Veterans at East Lake
Park on Saturday, September the 4th,
1909. Capt. Weller left Augusta where
he was born and grew to manhood
when the war ended, and his since lived
in the far west. His many friends and
relatives will be glad to see that he has
some of the fire yet which inspired
him when riding near the bravest of
the brave Gen. J. f. B. Stuart. Co.
E. was almost entirely made up of Au-
gusta county boys.
81 hear a sound which awakes my
soul, tits the voice of years that are
gone; they roll before me with all their
deeds"
How true of the old Confederate SOL
dier, as he gathers at these annual re-
unions, and in memory lives over again
the days that crowned him the highest
and grandest type of the mail-clad hero
and patriot that historians have ever
written of or whose praises were ever
sung by poet or bard. Here in imagi-
nation he hears again the roar of can
non, the rattle of musketry, the clash
of saber, and he listens again to the Old
Rebel yell, ringing out loud and clear
the notes of victory upon many hard
fought battlefield, and striking terror
to the hearts of ruthless invading foe.
Here he again hears the tramp, tramp,
tramp of his marshalled comrades, as
they march foot sore and weary, but
brave, determined and defiant upon
the bristling ranks of an invading host
whose very presence was desecration
of the soil of their beloved Southland,
and menace to the rights, liberties
and institutions of her people. Here
again he hears the thrilling notes of the
bugle call, the ominous beat OF the long
roll, the warning boom of the signal
gun and later the thunder and crash of
deadly conflict against fearful odds.
Do you wonder that those hallow-
war-wOrn and battle SCARED veterans
love to meet on those occasions and re-
count the stirring days of battle, when,
as living targets, they stood with un-
blanched cheeks, unshaken nerves and
flashing eyes, human wall of defence
against the invaders of their country.
Do you wonder that these hallowed
days fraught with danger, burdened
with suffering, and buring with fires
of patriotism and covered with the
glory of martial deeds are dear and
sacred to the memory of these old heroes
of a cause that went down in defeat
only when human endurance could
stand no more and human valor was
by fearful odds and brutal
numbers? If so, you have failed to
realize the power and influences OF
those associations upon the hearts and
memories of these old comrades of a
common cause and of q common dan
ger. We cease to wonder at the ties Of
love AMI friendship that bind these old
soldiers together when we realize that
outside of family relationship that of
comrade in arms in defense of conf
mon cause is the strongest and most
lasting of all social ties.
On the battlefield, shoulder to should
er, in ranks, thin but defiant, waiting
for the storm to burst and the crash of
conflict to break upon their devoted
heads, fearfully out numbered, they
looked into each others eyes and there
saw the flash and glitter of soul as
dauntless and as brave as martial music
ever stirred or patriotism ever fired
with love of country and devotion to a
cause that was just and right. Side by
side with faces to the foe in the times
that tried the souls of the bravest of the
brave, these old heroes who are with
us to-day once formed part of an army
which for four long, weary suffering
years beat back from the threshold of
our sunny Southland homes an invad-
ing host far superior in numbers and
with unlimited resources.
And when but shattered, ragged
remnant of the glorious Confederate
army was left, her stars and bars
Haunted as proudly in the bronze as
when first she moved over the ocean
girded ramparts of Fort Sumter, or
threw her ample folds to the breeze
from the lofty spires of Richmond, the
Gibraltar of the South. And that hal
lowed old flag went down in defeat
only when there was not an arm to
move it nor hand to lave it in the
blood which heroes gave it. No taint
of dishonor rests upon its stainless folds
today, and it's hallowed memories will
be held sacred as long as there is one
true, tried old Confederate soldier left
upon the earth to worship at its shrine.
The bravest hands that ever drew a
saber or thrust bayonet have defend
ed it, and the richest blood that ever
coursed through human veins has dyed
its brilliant hues, and the prettiest and
most devoted women that Gods eter-
nal sun ever shown upon have kissed