slip past the sentinels and cry havoc with the hearts of the girls who would recognize at once that he was now in his proper sphere. Laboriously Jep put on the uniform, girded on the sword and looked out. The saloon was deserted save by a few who nodded. Away he went, down the length of the room, past the dozing corporal of the guard and out on the deck. As he turned to go down, his arm struck a projecting piece of wood work and the rattle of the sword attracted the attention of the sentry on the stairs who stood "at attention" as the "officer" went by. Jep turned his head and the whites of his eyes gleamed on the startled soldier who, knowing that the Govenor had been figuratively raising the deuce with other regiments, instantly surmised that he had raised his satanic majesty in proper person and commisisoned him in the Seventy-first! The alarm was given and Jep was secured-not without a struggle however the uniform stripped from him and he safely stowed in the lockup. There he sat his hopes blasted, his spirits crushed-head in hands, with the tears insinuating themselves between his fingers, a picture of misery. When Commissary Hess came on board the case was presented to him, and, with his great good nature, he urged Jep's release and forgiveness. CHAPTER X. ACROSS THE CHASM. "By the flow of the inland river Whence the fleets of iron have flel, Asleep are the ranks of the dead; Under the sod and the dew Waiting the judgement day, Love and tears for the blue, -Finch. No one seemed to know just who suggested the idea of a salute to the Confederate dead. It was an inspiration born of a desire to do something in return for the kindnesses heaped upon the party by the living soldiers of the South. The Battalion could do nothing for them, but it could honor their dead with a soldier's salute. It was in harmony, too, with the course of the Seventy-first. Among the first at the initial battle of twenty years ago and the last to leave the field, where its dead were lying beside those of Louisiana regiments, it was the first to give a soldier's greeting to the soldier dead. When it was announced to the command that they were to march to Greenwood Cemetery and fire a salute, the men were anxious to start at once. There was a unanimous approval of the idea. They felt that it was not an expedition ordered by the officers and obeyed by the men because they were soldiers. It was an expedition in which every man felt a personal interest-a genuine satisfaction. A firing party of fifty were ordered to prepare. Major E. A. McAlpin and two Captains commanded, while the Colonel, other line officers and the staff accompanied the detachment as lookers on. The New Orleans City Railroad had placed a number of cars drawn by a dummy at the Battalion's disposal and the men were taken to the cemetery gates. Greenwood is a peculiar looking cemetery at first glance. The graves are all raised above ground and are really tombs. * This is necessary on account of the nature of the soil. Dig down anywhere for three or four feet and water is found. Obviously, then, the dead must be placed above ground, not in it. The gateway and approaches to the cemetery were crowded with ladies and gentlemen. The line was formed and, with the band playing a funeral march, at reverse arms the men went slowly in and around the Confederate monument. A halt was ordered and the *Appendix B. rifles loaded. Amid an impressive silence the officers uncovered, the people crowded about, and Dr. Martyn, the chaplain, stepped forward. "Stoop angels, hither from the skies! Than where defeated valor lies, By honoring brothers crowned.” Dr. Martyn spoke :"A famous German theologian once said: Thank God for sin!' Not that there is anything in sin to be thankful for, but it is the occasion for a display of the divine character impossible without it because unnecessary. Thank God for the war! War is an unmixed evil. But God is bringing out of it a better mutual understanding and a truer brotherhood. Twenty years ago the North and South fatally misunderstood each other. The North pictured the South as Bombastes Furioso. The South looked at the North as a Connecticut peddler. The North believed the South wouldn't fight. The South thought the North couldn't. The battle flags were unfurled. The swords were rough ground. The guns were loaded. The thunder of cannon shook the continent. The world stood aghast. The old misconception disappeared in the smoke of a hundred battle fields. It was mutually discovered that the spirit of '76, of Sumpter and Marion, of Schuyler and Greene, animated their descendants. The hostile sections were awed into a wholesome respect for each others' heroism and self-sacrifice. The old Romans placed the gods of the various principalities incorporated in the empire in their Pantheon-each had his niche. In the Pantheon of American patriotism and honor time shall set Grant and Lee, Jackson and Sherman; while the shadowy host, heroic as the English Sidney, chivalric as the French Bayard, who poured out life, on the one side for the National idea, on the other for the 'Lost Cause,' open their lips of dust to sing the angelic overture: Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good will towards men. As a foretoken of that coming day, nay, as a help towards its inauguration, we salute these graves. Over the chasm filled with blood, filled with tears, filled with bitter, burning memories, we extend the hand of national fraternity, and lock palms with our brothers of the South in eternal friendship.” Major McAlpin's voice was low and solemn as the commands "ready! aim! fire!" issued from his lips. Three times the guns rang out and the smoke curled about the monument. The birds twittered wildly and flew in great circles overhead. It was a small tribute, but the shades of the departed seemed to smile proudly down through the smoke on the boys in blue. Many eyes were moistened as the Battalion marched to the cars again through lines of men and women who silently bowed their heads. Verily there was "Love and tears for the blue, Tears and love for the gray." There was another scene while the Battalion was in the Crescent City that, while of a far different nature, was equally impressive. It occured at the Grand Opera House |