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THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE.
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ON THE BATTLEFIELD.
not until 1864, when Sheridan was sent into this land flowing with milk and honey, was the importance realized of devastating this region and making it impracticable for the Confederates again to undertake to make excursions into Maryland and Pennsylvania, at so long a distance from their base of supplies. Sheridan made it impossible for them to subsist upon the country.
It was a sad piece of business, this conflict of brother against brother, a struggle to the death in which the South consecrated its noblest sons, and, before the war ended, had literally robbed the cradle and the grave. The men at the front were diverted by the daily routine of camp and march or the terrible ordeal of actual combat; but what praise shall be accorded the heroic women who yielded, with unsurpassed fortitude, their husbands, brothers and sons to the demands of country, and to a cause the justice of which they believed from the deepest depths of their hearts. But the one problem that gave the gravest concern was the probable attitude of the slaves who, with the aged or decrepit men, unable to bear the stress of campaigning, were left behind to carry on the farm and to protect the women and children. There
is no parallel in history to the conduct of the slaves during this momentous crisis. They realized fully what the success of the Union Army meant for them, and yet, with singular devotion, they accepted the charge laid upon them by their masters, and in thousands upon thousands of instances never betrayed their trusts. All honor to the faithful blacks, who, yearning for freedom, nevertheless stood firm and true to the ideals of affection and integrity born and bred in them by life-long association with their white masters. It is of one such that this story has to tell.
On the banks of the river Shenandoah, not more than ten miles from Winchester, and not far from the famous battlefield of Cedar Creek, stood a farmhouse, commodious but not pretentious; a typical country residence, built of the native limestone and beautifully shaded by a grove of stately oaks. The owner, or master, as he was styled in Virginia, was a man of about twenty-five, with a commanding figure, well rounded out, a determined face and with all the attributes of a true Virginia gentleman. His business took him frequently to Winchester, where he was exceedingly popular. John Frazier, familiarly called Jack,