Garber Sentinel. (Garber, Okla.), Vol. 17, No. 34, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 25, 1916 Page: 6 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Oklahoma Digital Newspaper Program and was provided to The Gateway to Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
SENTINEL,
GARBER,
OKLAHOMA
Children Honor Nation's Dead
i
Gardens of the Dead
Out to the gardens of the dead
Vith low-bowed heads and solemn tread
The few remaining veterans go.
The screech of fife and roll of drum
Bring back again the feet grown numb,
ine measured step and slow.
Plereed by the rays of springtime's sun,
I.ike drops of blood the dew-drops run
J-rom new-born leaves and flowers.
And tear-drops mingle with the dew
j As memory brings some face to view,
I Like rain-drops after showers.
| I;P°n each sleeping comrade's tomb.
: They placed the lilac's fragrant bloom,
And bleeding-hearts, bright red—
i near earh head-stone white and fair.
i 1 hey flung Old Glory to the air
j In honor of their dead.
J><">ng may we keep their memory dear,
I.et every heart their deeds revere;
For us they fought and died.
And as those living pa*s away,
I<et sons and grandsons keep this day,
And deck their graves with pride.
rhoto by
Frank Fournler,
Children, on this Memorial day,
Go scatter flowers where sleep the Blue and Grav
Under one flag, a strong', united land
An inspiration to the world we stancL
DENIES THAT
GENERAL GRANT
WAS UNFEELING
One Who Knew the "Silent Man"
Well Tells of Instances That
Prove Rumor's Falsity.
GRANT did not select the Wilder-
ness as the sceno of his ilrst
engagement; he was com-
pelled to tako It. writes Sam-
uel H. Beckwith, chief cipher operator
to General Grant, 1862-65. Hut he was
not caught unawares, as some un-
friendly writers have argued. We well
know that the "Johnnies" were some-
where before us, ready to opposo brisk
defense to our forward movement, and
every possible precaution was takon
to protect our troops against surprlso.
When the flght started we were pre-
pared for tlieni, so far as an army
could be prepared for the struggle up-
on such a field.
During the first day's engagement
General Grant was not idle. He want-
ed to learn first-hand what was going
on about him. A personal inspection,
therefore, was necessary, and Cincin-
nati, that magnificent war horse, was
drafted into service. There have been
many horses that have gained con-
spicuous places In equine history, but
this noble animal deserves place
among the best. He was a chestnut
gelding of rare mettle, and when In
action upon a smoke-covered field ho
certainly was an object of admiration.
1 was the general's only companion on
that ride, and for one excellent rea-
son, among others, my mount could
keep pace with his.
There were a few moments during
the ride in which I was reasonably
sure that our time had come. As we
penetrated a thicket of dwarf pine and
emerged into a small clearing a lino of
Federal troops groping their way ulong
clashed, In our immediate front, with
a detachment of Confederates who
were pushing through tho tangle of
wood. A fusillade of bullets was the
result, and several sang an ominous
song about our heads. We reined up,
and then, as our men drove the enemy
back to cover, he continued on his way
with this comment:
"When our time comes, Beckwith,
we'll go, nnd not before. There's no
use trying to avoid it."
And avoid it he did not.
UNDISMAYED BY TIDINGS.
As was Inevitable under such condi-
tion# as prevailed in the Wilderness,
reports of tho vicissitudes of the en-
gagement wore numerous and con-
flicting. To headquarters, where Grant
awaited the outcome of the second
day's fight, came courier aftor courier
bringing news of the progress of the
contest from various portions of the
field.
Some of these were alarmingly In-
correct.
But the evil tidings didn't disturb
the silent Grant. Several times during
tho night I visited his tent to receive
or deliver messages, and found him
apparently unmoved by the direful ru
mors.
Ho had done all that nny command-
er could do to Insure victory; the re-
Hull was with Providence. Kveu with
some of these disquieting tales unrr
futed, ho retired to his cot to match
a much needed rest, the least ruffled
of the group about headquarters.
The morning of the 7th broke upon
a battlefield strewn with the wreckage
of terrible fighting, but the two for-
midable opponents had finished writ-
ing into history tho Battle of the Wil-
derness. The forces of Lee had re-
tired behind their intrenchments; tho
Federal troops were unwilling to at-
tack them so protected.
Orders were issued late in the after-
noon for a night march of the entire
army toward Spottsylvania. Karly in
the evening the lieutenant-general and
Meade with their stall's started out
upon the way. When wo reached Han-
cock's corps, the bravo fellows were
lying behind their works most of them
asleep, and we picked our steps care-
fully along in the darkness to safe-
guard the recumbent soldiers.
Grant sought a brief interview with
General Hancock and the twain
crawled Into an ambulance wagon and |
held converse for some time. I had
been riding cloBe behind my superior
and now I dismounted and threw my
bridle rein across the limb of a fallen
tree nearby, while 1 flung myself down
upon a pile of brush to await the re-
appearance of the general I was pret-
ty well fagged out and a few mo-
ments rest was most welcome.
it wasn't long before the boys
sensed the presence of Grant, and al-
though orders had been given to re-
frain from cheering, owing to the prox-
imity of the enemy, when they learned
that he was facing southward, they
8piang to their feet and the rocks and
woods sent back the echo of their
boisterous shouts.
Some rather harsh criticism has
been directed at General Grant for the
tremendous sacrifice of life in theWil-
derness campaign, and his alleged cal-
lousness at the wholesale slaughter of
his men.
STOICISM OF GREAT CAPTAIN.
Let me. who was his constant com-
panion during three years of the Civil
war, bear testimony to his possession
of a genuine humanity and manly sym-
pathy. His was a most peculiar nature.
Where others would fret and grieve,
manifesting their anxiety in words
and actions, he preserved a stern si-
lence. But I am certain he feltvas
keenly nnd deeply the barb of misfor-
tune and sorrow as did those about
him. During the bloody days of relent-
less attack and stubborn defense in
the spring of 1864 I noticed an almost
indefinable sadness in Grant, a sort of
moody reticence, that convinced me,
who understood the man, that he was
suffering at the destruction of so many
gallant troops.
it was after the battle of Cold Har-
bor that I went to the general's tent to
deliver a ciphergram, and found him
sitting alone, smoking a cigar and evi-
dently buried in thought. His face
bore a care-worn expression that in-
dicated sleepless nights and weari-
some days. For a moment he was
oblivious of my presence; then he
nodded to me and I entered, handing
him the message. After reading it he
turned to me with a sigh.
Beckwith,' he said, "the hardest
part of this general business is the re-
sponsibility for the loss of one's men.
I can see no other way out of it, how-
ever; we've got to keep at them. But
It is hard, very hard, to see all these
hi ave fellows killed and wounded. It
[ means aching hearts back home." And
he lapsed again into ruminating si-
lence.
There were two occasions when I
saw General Grant actually shed tears.
The one was in the forepart of July
of 1864, while we were in headquarters
at City Point in the operations before
Petersburg. A telegram came in from
Gen. W T. Sherman, who was grap-
pling with Hood at Atlanta, Ga„ con-
veying the painful intelligence of the
death of McPherson, the beloved com-
mander of the Army of the Tennessee.
| WORD OF M'PHERSON'S DEATH.
| This rugged and gallant leader, by
his intrepid and cavalier bravery, had
j won for himself the enthusiastic' sup-
| port of his men and the unreserved
j confidence and admiration of Grant
I and his generals. It was a telling
| blow, just as this time, to the hopes
I and aspirations of the North.
I took the dispatch to the general,
and he read it silently. He was hard
hit, 1 could readily see that. His
mouth twitched and his eyes closed as
if he were shutting out the baleful
words. Then the tears came and one
followed the other down his bronzed
cheeks as he sat there without a word
of comment. It was most eloquent
silence.
The other occasion was in October
of tho same year, when the news of
the death of Gen. T. E. G. Hansom
reached us. Ransom and Grant had
been comrades in arms in the West in
the early days of the war, and a
strong friendship had grown up be-
tween them. The loss of the young j
officer struck home with peculiar force |
nnd none felt that loss moru deeply
than General Grant.
IT IS quite interesting to compare
the photographs of the young vol-
unteers who went out In the six-
ties with those taken today. One
can scarcely recognize In those ill-tit-
ting uniforms the men who today will
commemorate the deeds of valor of the
comrades gone before. They were as
royal a set of young fellows as ever
took up musket or handled a sword in
defense of civil liberty. They still
wear the blue, some of them, and they
look their best on Decoration day.
There is a badge on each breast. The
hand has grown feeble, the hair is
turned gray, and with irregular foot-
steps they follow the band and the
children of the schools, all bearing
bouquets to the graves of their fallen
comrades.
It Is not the procession that marched
down to the battle front away back
yonder in the long ago that we behold
today. It is but a remnant of that
mighty host; but for a half century
they have been keeping the folds of
the old flag bright and the graves of
their unforgotten heroes green, and
reminding a new generation of the
horrors of war, of the beauty of patri-
otism and the fidelity of the old guard
for each other. It is the epic of the
unforgotten years. It is the incarna-
tion of memories that have grown holi-
er as the years have sped away. They
have dropped out, one by one, from
the blue flies of the living with the
badge upon their breasts and liberty's
emblem around them. Beneath the
green mounds, and the fragrance of
Immortelles they await the roll call
on the eternal morning.
if in the bright afterwhile, some
chronicler, with more than mortal pre-
science, were to write the achieve-
ments of the men who today occupy
the place of honor in our ceremonials,
there would be found written some-
thing like this: The greatest service
the men of '61-65 rendered to their
country was not merely the preserva-
tion of an undivided flag, but in hold-
ing before our nation from year to
year In this beautiful service the glo-
rious Ideals of civil liberty, and the
awful cost at which these national vir-
tues are maintained. It was one thing
topreservethet7nlon.lt has been an-
other thing to keep before the oncom-
ing generations the principles which
have been embedded In shot and shell.
This has been done by the Grand
Army of the Republic In a way to call
forth the admiration of humanity. If
there is one thing more than another
that has burned the love of freedom
Into the soul of our young manhood
and womanhood, it has been the May-
day tramp, tramp of the veterans,
bearing their memorial wreaths to the
graves of their patriots dead. It is a
sight calculated to cause even the most
stolid to admire the principles which
have been embalmed in sacrificial
blood.
The tears of the blue and the gray
have healed the wounds of fratricidal
strife. There are monuments to each
that are sacred and holy. Today the
same stars look down upon each, the
same flag is beloved by all, a united
country is our mutual heritage. There
is no hatred in the veteran's hand-
grip nor enmity in his salutation. God
has made his blossoms to bloom over
unmarked graves nnd has filled the
old trenches with lilies of the valley.
N lid vines clamber over ruined ram-
parts ard the cannon of war, beaten
by the storms of half a hundred vears
stand as mute mementoes in parks and
city squares, memorials of the valiant
jears, which, if it please God, will
never come again,
Christmas Day Happening That
Has Lingered for Many
Years in Soldiers' Mind.
w
E ARE sometimes visited by
a tall, grizzled, square-
shouldered man, with leo-
nine eyes that send forth
gleams from under brushy
kindly
brows.
He is one of our soldier friends. A
man who has made a success of liv-
ing because he has kept the flower of
romance alive in his heart. Although
he has many interests, and is. at sev-
enty odd, greatly alive to present day
affairs, he finds time to dwell long-
ingly on the memorable events of the
days when he was devoting himself to
his country's service.
His talk, however, is not all of con-
flicts on the battlefields. When list
he sat at our fireside, his reminiscence
took on the glow of romance. Looking
into the depth of the dying embers,
he said: "Tho day before Christmas,
1863, we were encamped near a small
town in Mississippi. The order was
given in camp that there would be
no lighting on Christmas day. Early
Christmas morning most of us went
into the town of M on pleasure
bent.
My chum, a neighbor boy from
New York state, was in about the
same state of homesickness that I
Behind Her Came a Colored Man.
Debt Must Never Qe Forgotten.
Tho American people have been
patriotic beyond the example of other
nations in providing for those who left
homo and all its comforts, business
and all its prospects, life and all its
ambitions, to tight for tho flag, for tho
"onstitution and the Union. This is
as it should be. and until the last man
who "fought that good flght" Is laid
away in mother earth forever, we hope
the American people will never forget
for a moment the debt they owe to the
valor and endurance of those who
fought the nation's battles in those
days now growing dim even in mem-
ory. Their graves should bo kept
green with the tears of a grateful
people, and as each Memorial day
comes around in the year, flowers, the
sweetest and brightest, should be
strewn profusely over the graves
where the patriot dead lie sloeplng
the sleep that knows no waking"
on earth and in time.
Ever the Same.
The thin blue line of 1861 is fading
away In numbers ouly. It's still tho
sauic old blue.
was. We didn't say much, but I knew
he was thinking, as I was, about the
family back at home, and tho warm
little farmhouse folded in among the
snowy hills.
" 'What's the use of Christmas with-
out snow?' he asked me, glumly, as
we strode along.
" 'Mothers can make Christmas out
of any sort of place, I told him. •It's
mother I miss today."
"We walked along the business
street, with its roofed sidewalks. It
was unusually wide, and as we came
out into the residence section there
were double rows of live oaks, their
gray moss draping the red clay drive-
way.
"The housqs were set far back from
tho sidewalk, within tall iron fences
or brick walls, and guarded by heavy
gateways. Box hedges flanked the
walks to the portico. Roses vined
and bloomed about tho doorways,
orange trees gave forth their fragrance
and mocking birds sang in the satin-
leaved Japonicas.
"From the gateway of the hand-
somest of these homes, a girl of prob-
ably sixteen approached us. Behind
her came a colored man, carrying a
tray with pitcher and glasses. The
girl spoke to me, probably because I
was taller and older than my chum.
"She said, and It seemed to mo 1
had never heard anything to compare
with the music of her voice:
" Merry Christmas, Mistah Sold-
Jah; my father presents his compli-
ments and begs you to accept a glass
of eggnog.
"I'd have drunk blue vitriol if she
had offered it, but the eggnog was as
velvety as her sweet voice, and we.
drank heartily, raising our soldier
caps and feeling too shy for many
words of thanks.
"I was nineteen at the time, and I
surely wished I could linger with that
girl. I hadn't set my eyes on any-
thing feminine for months, and then
to come face to face with such grace,
and beauty was almost too intoxicat-
ing, I can see her tonight as she stood
before the high, fanciful iron gates
of her father's house, graciously and
unaffectedly offering his Christmas
good cheer to men who tomorrow
would resume the flght against his
cause.
"She was a dark-eyed, dark-haired
little thing, with high color. 1 re-
member how dainty her feet looked
in black slippers, strapped across
white stockings. Her hair hung in
loose curls and she wore a wide-
skirted dress of some bright silk. I
don't remember the color. I looked
at her as long as I dared, I assure
you.
'Back at camp, the Christmas day
over, the weary vigil of battle once
more renewed, 1 had a new fight on.
It was with the brightest vision that
had ever crossedt my gray country-
boy's existence. I panted to know
the name of that girl, to come back
sometime to <voo her and to win her.
But 1 was a poor boy, as yet with-
out the education which I meant to
gain after the war, and because of
the -war, the training for ray lifeworb
was to be belated
"What had I to offer this, bright
creature who had apparently known
only luxury. I had to reason myself
out of that girl, and it was more of
a struggle than the siege of Vicks-
burg.
"I might easily have found out her
name, for we were encamped near
M some time, and I could have
gotten leave to go there again. But
I was afraid If I did know it I
couldn't keep from writing to her and
persecuting her or myself, as the'ease
might be.
"Boy that I was, I saw the need
of nipping thiB passion in the bud
so I never went again to M , nor
heard the name of my dark-eyed south-
ern beauty.'1
Brothers Again
Over the new-turned sod
7 he sons of our fathers stand,
And the fierce old fight
Slips out of sight
In the clasp of a brother's
hand.
For the old Hood left a stain
That the new has washed away,
And the sons of those
That have faced as foes
Are marching together today.
Oh, the roses we plucked for the
blue
And the lilies we tinned for
the gray
TF<? have bound in one wreath,
\And in silence beneath
Slumber our heroes today.
-At.fred Bioelow Paine.
His Old Friend.
A pretty story is told ot the visit to
Arlington cemetery of a camp or Con-
federate veterans at the time of the
funeral of Gen. Joe Wheeler In pass-
LlmlT" the '°ng Hne of whlte ston«s
flittering in the glow of the dying
sun an armless, gray-haired veteran
in faded gray caught sight of a name
newly cut on tho stone, lie beckoned
to his comrades.
"Why, here is Jim. You all remem-
in a oua'n f°mpa"y n'" 1,6 "Plained,
in a quavering voice to the men pres.
sing around. "I never thought 1 would
see any trace of him again."
And with tears in their eyes each
thlfrT a leaf °n thc mouild "hove
their Jong-lost dead.
i
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Matching Search Results
View four places within this issue that match your search.Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Peters, Kay. Garber Sentinel. (Garber, Okla.), Vol. 17, No. 34, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 25, 1916, newspaper, May 25, 1916; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc144910/m1/6/?q=wichita+falls: accessed June 27, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.