Evening Star Newspaper, November 4, 1893, Page 19

HORRORS OF BATTLE| The Story of Gettysburg Told by a Farmer. HE WAS THERE AT THE TIM His Farm House Was Used as a Hospital. ALL SUFFER IN WAR. F THE VISITOR TO this memorable spot will turn to the left from the Baitimore/ pike at the cemetery gate, and following the lines well marked by monuments, field pieces, old intrerch- ments, &c., over Culp’s Hill, around the bend or angle, up past the moucrent to the confederate dead of a Maryland Yegiment, down past Spangler’s epring anf then out west across the low ground and a little creek, along a country road for half a mile, and will then turn to the right across the fields to a somewhat con- spicuous granite monument on the Balti- more pike again, he will have traversed half, or, at any rate, a distinct part of the field of this most momentous of Ameri- can battles. The stone informs him that here were Gen. Slocum’s headquarters. This area, lying to the east of Cemetery Ridge, has in some sense a history of its own, quite dis- tinct from that which transpired west of the ridge, and is crowjed with scenes of thrilling interest and deadly struggle, only surpassed, if, indeed, surpassed, by “Death's Valley” and the “Bloody Angle.” Across the road from the monument, and a few rods further down, stands now and stood then a two-story stone farm house, the home of Nathaniel Lightner, a carpenter- farmer, whom I fourld mending a hay rack, and from whom I elicited the follow- ing story of experiences that seem to me well worthy of appearing in print. Farmer Lightner is as honest as he is modest in his use of words, and will not allow that this is a story, but “facts, real facts.” What a Farmer Saw. Said he: “I and my neighbor, John Taney, set in to mow my meadow back of the orchard there on that morning, July 1, 1366. It was a hot, sultry moraing, and after we had mowed awhile Taney says: ‘I could do this better if I had a little whisky to drink.” ‘I can soon get you some,’ I replied, and taking a jug set off to the village to get some. On the way I fell in with Wm. Young, another neighbor. When we got on top of Cemeiery Hill we Saw a long line of smoke from campfires over north, along the Chambersburg pike, tHe first we knew of the soldiers being about. We soon met people who said they thought there was going to be fighting out there. When we got into town every- body’ was talking about it, and said it looked like something was going on out there. But they had not a suspicion of the flood of bloody war that would roll through their streets and up into their doorways and gardens before the day was past. It was about 9 o'clock. Young said, ‘Let's go out on Seminary road and see what there is out there, anyway.’ When we got up on the hill we saw down to our left Union soldiers, Howard's corps, coming e@cross the fields from the Eramitaburg road. We stood there watching them move up, form lines and take position under the Bill Directly a shell came whizzing over from the front, and fell back toward town. Young wanted to go, but I insisted on stay- ing a@ little longer. There was a great stir ‘and commotion among the soldiers at once, and they soon began to move forward. ‘The shells began to come pretty thick, and Weave had not got half-way back to town when we met other Union troops pouring along the road and through the fields, com- ing out of every street and alley and open space of the town, all rushing, pell-mell, forward, without any apparent orde:, with fixed bayonets, eager-eyed, stripped, sweat- img and panting in the hot sun. They cursed us for being in the way, butted us back, and would have run right over us if we had not dodged out of their way. We crawled through among them as well as we could, dodging behind posts and build- ings, and gaining a run of a few rods when- ever we could. We got separated, and I don’t know how Young got home. A mad rush of more troops, wagons and ambu- lances followed, filling up streets, orchards, fields and every place. I did not get home till 4 o'clock, trying with all my might ah day. As I came down the pike home I saw a red flag on the end of the house, and when I got nearer saw the yard fuil of sol- diers. “Under an apple tree I found the surgeons with a man stretched out on our dining foom table, cutting and sawing a leg off, and on the grass there lay a pile of limbs. I went around to the kitchen door ana looked in. The floor was covered with wounded men. The stove was red hot, and they were baking and cooking up every- thing in the house. They had taken full possession. My four barrels of flour and everything im the cellar and spring house were soon used up. The family nad taken refuge in the stable, where I found them frightened and crying. They had got noth- ing out of the house, and did not know ‘what had become of me. “I went back to the surgeon and asked him what I should do. ‘Do you live here? Is this your place?’ he asked. I told him it was. ‘Go back; go back; take your family and go to the rear; that is all I can teil you,” said he, and went on with his work. “Can't I get some clothing, at least, out of the house” I asked. ‘If you can find any,’ said he. I went in, but could not find a thing that had not been torn up and put to wse—not even a dress of my wife. Through the Lines. “We set out with the children, six in num- ber, fro#i thirteen years down, and made our way back, on foot, as well as we couid, mong the oncoming troops and trains, four miles to a relation’s, where I left them, and returned about midnight to the neigh- borhood. I crawled into the garret of Ta- ney’s house for fear of the confederate scouts and sharpshooters, and about day- treak slipped out, and over through the bushes to Power's Hill, up there on the coraer of my land. There I found the sig- nal corps had established headquarters. From there I could look down on my place and see what was going on. I found Rufus Culp there, and told him I was hungry: had had nothing to eat since the morning before. He got some hardtack for me. ‘They had planted a battery below, to drive gome sharpshooters off Culp’s Hill, and were cutting down my timber. My wheat field and orchard were full of wagon trains. A drove of beef cattle was being herded in the meadow. “I saw I could save nothing, so went back and moved the family nine miles further away, and came back and stayed with the signal corps till the battle was over. “On the third day after the battle I got Gown to the house. There was not a board or rail of fencing left on the place. Not a chicken, pig. cow or dog to be found. The mules had eaten up the orchard of four- year-old trees, down to the stalks. The garden was full of bottles and camp litter; the meadow of the hides and offal of the eeves which had been shot down in their tracks and dressed on the spot, as meat ‘was needed. There stood the bare shop, the house full of wounded men, and the old Darn. where Gen. Slocum had made his headquarters. In front of the barn sat a ‘weary-looking. lone officer, in blouse coat, | @rying himself at a fire made of pieces of rails. That officer was Maj. Gen. Slocum himself. Not an orderly was in sight. He looked dreary enough. “T found Col. Bebel in charge of the house and asked him when he thought I could get my house back. He said he had no idea when. We came back, about a week later, and lived. gipsy-like, in the sop for six weeks. The officers supplied us for a few @ays from the hospital stores. “The wounded in the house were nearly all from a regiment of Milwaukee Germans. ‘They were a queer lot. They sang. cried, cursed, prayed. did everything, poor fellows, as they lay there euffering and dying: but chiefly they drank beer, wagon loads of It, brought from Milwaukee. They sent all their dead home. Unpleasant Scenes of Carnage. “Such smells as came from the festering gwounds, from the blood and medicine, THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C., SATURDAY. NOVEMBER 4, 1893—TWENTY PAGES. stained floors and from the chloroform! Then the stench from the slaughter yard in the meadow became sickening. Blue bottle flies swarmed on the walls of the shop and house of an evening, and the night air was terrible. Why did we stay? Why come back? What else could we do? We had no money to pay board, we had nothing, and a large family to care for. We had been putting all our money into the Place. We must set to work as fast as we could to fix it up and get ready for the winter. “Six weeks later they took the last of the Wwounde? away and let us have the house. We tric. to clean it up and live in it, but it made us all sick. Toward spring I got a to take a stocked farm on shares, so I moved away and let the house to an old Dutchman, who did not seem to mind the smells. Nine years afterward I tore all the woodwork and plaster out and made the house new from the bare walls. Then ‘we came back, but my poor wife did not live Jong in our new home. She had never been well from that first time we tried to live in it. ‘The Horrors of War. “War is awful,” said old Mr. Lightner. “Everything suifers in war; people all suf- fer, animals suffer, the plants suffer and droop and die; the little birds are killed or are frightened away from their nests and their young; the trees are torn by shot and shell or are cut down ruthlessly for fires and breastworks; grain and grass are eaten up or trodden into the ground in an hour; Springs and wells are the soldiers’ boons, and are supped up to the last drop. The water even of that dirty, bloody creek over there, where thousands of cavalry and ar- tillery horses were watered, was greedily used by the soldiers. War is all suffering. Why, over there, back of Powers’ Hill, the supply trains of some New York regiments and batteries were parked in a field. The mules stood in harness, without food or water, for three days and two nights of the battle, ready to move at a moment's notice. The mules and drivers were more like dead than living things. Over beyond the ‘Bloody Angle’ I saw, on Sunday afer the battle, six mules dead, in harness to a con- federate gun with not a spoke left in the wheels, all done by a shell. Pieces of men and animals lay scattered about every- where. Over in Culp’s Hill I saw the Union soldiers burying confederate soldiers in trenches thirty or forty feet long and only a few feet deep. They piled them in like cord wi “Then, tog, the government arrested me. I must tell you about that. A man came along from New York a few days after the battle and told the children he would buy any relics they could pick up. They got together some bullets, buckles, canteens and the like, and when he came back I dickered with him for them and sold him $2 or $3 worth of things. Soon after a Col. Blood came down to gather up government property and he had me arrested. I told him h it was, that we had no idea of doing thing unlawful; but he was de- termined to make me all the trouble he could. He put me to considerable expense, but my neighbors got me off after a few days. That arrest is the only thing of it all that made me mad, and I that yet.” ———_+o+—_____ BARELY SAVED FROM THE SHARK. And the Mysterious Saving Agency w in the Bottom of the Sea. From the Detroit Free Press. We were fishing in Appalachee bay on the south coast of Florida, just off the town of St. Marks. There were five of us in the boat—four men and a boy fourteen years of age, named Harry Rogers. His mother was a widow, and they were stopping with friends in the town. They were, if I re- member right, from Nashville. We had caught a number of small fish when a school of sharks suddenly appeared to spoil all further sport. Every one of our hooks was bitten off inside of a minute, and the, sharks showed themselves all aroun¢ the boat. Big and little, there were a dozen of them skimming about, and the boss of the school was a monster about fifteen feet long. He was of the man-eat- ing species, and not a bit afraid of us. In- deed, we had cause to be afraid of him. He seemed to be desperately hungry, and for awhile he acted as if he meant to jump into the boat. He finally quieted down, and took up his station broadside on to us, and only ten feet away. There he lay, eyeing every movement of ours, but never so much as waving a fin himself, until we decided that we might as well up anchor and pull in. We were anchored in thirty feet of water, having a regular boat anchor and chain. One of the men had just seized the chZin, when we felt a vigorous tug at it, and the next moment the boat was rushing through the water as if urged by two pairs of oars. A fish or submarine creature of some sort had become entangled in the anchor. I can- not tell you what it was, as it did not rise to the surface, but it was very strong and swift. We were about half a mile off the beach when the anchor was picked up. The creature headed out into the bay, and when it got fairly started the chain was as taut as if we were towing behind a tug. All of us realized just what had happened, and for the first few minutes we rather enjoyed it. Then we found we were likely to be towed out to sea, and, with the sky threat- ening a squall, this was not a very pleasant prospect. Had the cabie been a rope we should have cut it, but it was a chain, and there was no way to either sever it or loosen it from the staple in the bow. The four men of us crept to the forward end of the boat, and getting hold of the chain pulled with all our strength, but we could neither check the speed of the creature nor lift it to the surface. I had noticed before going forward that the big shark was following us, his dorsal fin showing six or eight inches above the surface. While we were engaged with the chain the boy’s hat blew off, and in grab- bing for it he lost his balance and went overboard. We heard him cry out, and when we looked around he was thirty feet astern in the wake of the boat. You can perhaps imagine our feelings! We hadn't a thing to throw him as a float, and no one doubted that the big shark would seize him before three minutes had passed. For- tunately for Harry, he was a good swim- mer, and was also lightly clad. We could do nothing to aid him, but we all shouted to him to splash the water with hands and feet to keep the shark off. He heard and understood. He did ever better than we hoped for. He had on light canvas shoes; these he managed to pull off while treading water. He also got his coat and vest off, and the shark no doubt swallowed shoes and clothing. Harry told us afterward that the monster kept circling about him, evi- dently bent on dashing in and seizing him, but deterred by the vigorous splashing. While we were fully realizing our help- lessness, the unknown creature whose ac- tion had caused our misfortune suddenly turned to the east. It towed us a few rods in that direction, and then turned to the north, or shoreward. It no doubt wanted to get rid of the anchor as badly as we wanted It to, and was making every effort to do so. To our amazement it had towed us only a cable's length shoreward when it bore off to the left, seeming to be following some channel, and headed straight for the boy. We cheered and called out to him, and while one got the boot hook ready the others prepared their fish lines for a throw. Our “tug” kept a preety straight course for him, towing us at about the rate of six miles an hour, and as he saw us coming he struck out to intercept the boat. We all stood up and shouted, hoping to keep shark off, and it is a fact bee we ran so close to the boy that one of our party, a Major Davis of Cincinnati, seized him by the shoulder and drew him in. The shark was not ten feet away at the time. The boy had been scarcely pulled in when our “tug” changed its course to the west and ran us two miles on the shoal called Turtle bank. The water here was not over six feet deep, but so thick and muddy that we could not make out the creature at the other end of the chain. However, in some manner unknown to us, it managed to get free of the anchor and went off, making @ great commotion, and that ended our ad- venture. The boy had fainted away as soon as he realized that the danger had passed, and we had pulled almost to the wharf be- fore he came to. Few men would have dis- Played the coolness he did under the cir- cumstances. We could not throw him one of the oars, as they were chained to prevent the beachcombers from stealing them, and he had to support himself entirely by his own exertions. He kept turning to face the shark, and had he ceased splashing for fifteen seconds it would have been all day with him. He said he had no hope of res- cue, but was determined to hold out as lopg as possible. But for the strange actions of the creature which had picked un our anchor, the big shark would have had a Tennessee boy for dinrer that day. He followed us almost to the wharf, seeming loath to give up, and when he turned to leave us he gave his tail an angry flap which tl rew water clear over our boat. Tf the hair ing ont, or turnin; gray, ing a stimulant with nourishi: ‘and calgring fa, Hall's Vegetable Sicilian Hair Wer is just the “THE EVENING STAR’ MARCH. F. FANCIULLI, Leeder U.6.Marine Band. 19 STYLE AND MONEY. A Man May Have the One Without Wasting the Other. THE PROPER CARE OF CLOTHES It is Better Than a Lavish Out- lay. THE ULTRA-LONG COAT. Little by little men are beginning to give more attention to the matter of their clothes. The subject has been handled so often in the newspapers that they are beginning to realize the truth of the statement that a hundred dollars spent judiciously and with care expended upon the garments purchased will go farther than twice that sum when the articles are neglected and carelessly worn. Washington is sald to have in its midst @ man who spends an even thousand dollars @ month on his clothes. This seems impcs- sible at first, and it has often been made the subject of discussion among clubmen and in places where men are wont to con- gregate, whether this sum can really be spent in this way. It probably can be dis- posed of by a man who neither knows nor cares to know the value of money and who spends it simply for the sake of getting rid of it. But it is equally true that a man can be fully as well dressed at all times on a tenth or a twentieth part of that sum, pro- vided he expends it wisely and then knows how to take proper care of his garments afterward. Discussing this very subject a writer in the New York World says that there are few men who recognize the importance of economy in wearing apparel; few who take proper care of their clothing, and still fewer who know how to make the best of what they have, so as to cause their limited as- sortment to answer all the purposes of an extensive wardrobe. By exercising a little care in hanging up or laying down garments, by using the brush or whisk broom now and then and by having the tailor examine them at intervals their preservation and their neat appearance \ ‘The Way to Hang Trousers. will be insured. When arriving at business in the morning, an office coat should be donned. The business coat should not be thrown carelessly on @ chair or in some comer, but should be hung on a hook or over the back of a chair and protected from dust. A great mistake is often made in hanging the coat on a hook without regaré to the hanger, and its weight causes the cloth to bulge out in the most conspicuous part, = 2) A Carelessly Hung Coat. which draws the garment entirely out of shape. The ordinary wire coat hanger sold on the street is preferable to the use of the tape hanger attached to the garment, but &@ wooden shoulder, easily and cheaply made, should be provided, broad enough to prevent the break which the wire shoulder occa- sions. When sitting down the trousers should be pulled up @ trifle et the knees, not enough to shorten them conspicuously at the ankle, but just sufficient to F carga the usual bulging, which makes them so unsightly. The use of the modern t does to some extent preserve the shape, but unless properly ured it does more harm than good. The waistcoat should be laid flat on the table or elsewhere, irstead of hung up at the shoulders. Using a table upon which to brush gar- ments is preferable to any other course, and a little household ammonia should be used to remove spots which the brush or broom does not displace. The cost of keeping one’s clothing in good order is trifling, either in time or money. To have a tailor examine them occasionally and put them in order is the best and most prudent course. It is a con- siderable saving in the end. In selecting a tailor for this purpose, one should be chosen who makes the renovating and re- pairing of clothing a specialty, otherwise the charges will be unreasonably high. The Cont of Great Length. The same paper describes the coattail of swelldom at the present time as a thing of generous portions, extending far below the knee and as full as the harmonies of ar- tistic tailoring will admit. The tailors won't tell you so, but it is true, neverthe- less, ‘that this sudden discarding of the abbreviated garments of a season or two ago is largely due to the fact that the ladies are wearing their dresses full- skirted and loose fitting, and that the unities of attire, and, indeed, gallantry itself, require a correspondence on the part of man with the gentle whims of the fair sex. But while the long-skirted frock coat un- questionably bears the imprint of approval, the matter of its propriety and gracefulness is not entirely conceded. Permit the tailors to decide the question, and they will, al- most with one acclaim, pronounce it the acme of perfection in masculine apparel. The artists, who differ so widely on most subjects, and who deplore the angularity and stiffness of modern dress, are of one mind regarding the double-breasted frock coat, contending that it {s, at best, only a feeble compromise, lacking in ideal grace as well as in practical usefulness. They claim that no garment can be considered faultless in which a man cannot feel com- fortable and at ease. In this latter view the busy man of affairs, however strong may be his love for dress, will be pretty apt to coincide. Next to the frock coat on the fashionable list comes the three-buttou cutaway. Like the @rmer, it is intended for occasions when semi-formal dress is exacted, but it The Right Thing in a Cutaway. is never to be worn buttoned, as with it should invariably be worn a waistesat of fancy pattern. The collar rolis tow and the skirts slope gracefully back to a point just below the bend of the knee. The fashion- able color for this season is an Oxford or Cambridge gray, and the most suitable material for the cutaway frock ts a soft worsted in narrow wale. The trousers should be of the same goods. The coat fits the body rather snugly, but the shoulders are so shaped as to impart an appearance of fullness. The outlines of the figure are followed in the cut of the coat, which pro- duces the effect of making a man of rcedi- um height appear tall. The sleeves are of fullness, a trifie smaller at the wrist than usual, owing to the general adop- tion of the link cuff. With the cutaway as with the double-breasted frock coat, only a silk hat should be wom. A general rule the derby is out of place, except in travel- ing or at business. ‘The double-breasted sack coat, which be- came so popular last season, is in evidence again this fall, but in a modified and vastly improved design. It now holds a foremost place for business wear, supplaating the round-cornered, single-breasted sack in the estimation of dressy men. The coat is longer than its prototype of a year ugo, a circumstance which tends greatly to en- rie amas beats longer e sing! ited sack coat is than was that in use last season, and it is consequently much more stylisn. ‘The corners of the coat slope away from the Jowest button. The collar rolis low enough to permit a moderate exposure of shirt bosom to be visible. All the pockets are covered with flaps. ——_+e-+-—___ 4 NEW TOOTH TERROR. A Recent Disease Threatens to Make Us All Toothiess. From the New York World. According to a well-known dentist, a new terror threatens mankind. People are los- ing their teeth from a new disease. Hither- to decay has been the cause of the loss of teeth, and when the age of twenty was once safely passed ordinary care guaranteed | the possession of @ strong and healthy set passed this new terror, the recession of for. It is due to the depositing of tartar in large quantities about the top and bottom finally inflames them, and eventually causes the tecth to drop out. The only way to have this disease retarded is to have the of teeth during middle age. But now it | seems that when the danger of decay is | the gums it is called, must be looxed out | of the teeth. This pushes the gums back, | AN EARLY YACHT. Cleopatra’s Barge Was One of the First Fast American Boats. From Herper's Weekly. Cleopatra's barge was launched in Decem- ber, 1816. The yacht was rigged as a brig- antine, and cost about $60,000 even at that early day. She measured $3 feet on the water line, was 22 feet 111-2 inches wide and ll feet 51-2 inches deep. Curiousiy enough, these dimensions and proportions are not very different from those of the cup Comber, Mayflower, and her succes- sors. Her tonnage was 191 1-2 tons nearly— almost exactly that of the Mayflower un- der the old rules of measurement. In spite of her owner's love of seaman- ship, his taste in the matter of decoration seems to have been, to say the least, ec- centric. One side of the yacht was painted in horizontal stripes of many colors, and the other bore a similarly de- vice, after the manner of the herring bone pattern. Her stan was made of ropes laid in different colored strands, huge false windows were painted on the sides of her cabin, and, altogether, she must have been, Glstinetiy at variance with what is considered “shipshape” at the present day. Nevertheless she was very fast, snd beat the sailing frigate United States, a crack ship of her day, in an all-day race at sea. e+ —___ He Knew the Ear Marks. From the Chicago Herald. He laid aside his paper with the remark: “Wonderful what a lot of curious things have been found in the last few weeks, ac- cording to the papers. I have just been reading about a snake sixty-five feet long that has been found in Culorado.” “Yes; I believe I saw something about it." Pa aepsg @n account of it in today’s pa- per, and a few da: bout the skeleton of a man mine fect three ches tall being found in a eave in Mex- “Indeed! I wonder when the new museum is going to open.” “What new museum?” “I'm sure I don't know, but those are sure signs that one will oven here soon, & never knew it to fail.” The Same Thing. From the Indianapolis Journsl. She went to see the Turkish dance, In all its sinuous art, And then remarked, with scornful sniff, “It's nothing but Delsarte.” —_+e-+—____ Sagacious, but Without Judgement. From Puck. Without you?” Fred (appearing on the scene)—“Darling! bed A — J you not meet me? What has hap pened?” She—“A tramp attacked me; but my new dog seized him and drove him off.” Fred—"My darling, never fear when your dear Fred is near. Dog (returning from chase)—“Well, I a6 that feller. What, another? I'll do him too!” tartar periodically removed and its accu- mulation prevented. Otherwise middle age will find men and women toothless. ——_—+e2_____ They Put a Locking Glass in Her Coffin. From the New York San. Men delight in giving horrifying examples of the length to which feminine vanity may run, but the supreme climax seems to have been reached in an old Swedish custom. A looking glass was placed in the coffin of an unmarried woman, so that when the |last trump sounded she could arrange her tresses before making her entry into |heaven. Maidens were expected to have | their locks less tidy than those of their married sisters, whose hair was bound about their heads in orderly braids, while the unwon maid wore hers loosely in co- | | quettish arrangement that was easily dis- | turbed and put out of order. Fred. es, , Angelina; you take him home ahead. I'll follow. We can have a formal introduction when I get there, so he will know me in the future.”