THE SUNDAY STAR

VOL. 3. The Public Library, Washington, D. C. OCTOBER 30, 1921. 148.

THE RAMBLER FOLLOWS DIFFICULT RUN AND WRITES OF CHANTILLY BATTLEFIELD

Tipping his hat and bidding farewell to the old Robey house with its thick leg sides and its dormer windows looking out like great goggle eyes from its slanting shingled roof, the Rambler took up the pleasant, happy burden of his camera and went his way west along the Little River turnpike in the direction of Chantilly. A few hundred yards beyond the Robey house and on the opposite, or the south side, of the road is a big frame house in a clump of hard maple trees. Though a narrow lane leads from the main road to this house, two rows of maples mark out a broad avenue. At the rear of the house is a cluster of farm buildings, giving a truly rustic touch to the scene.

It is an old home but it has been so well [...] for that, as we often say of persons and very seldom mean it "It doesn't look its age." It is the home of George W. Beach and his wife, who was a Miss Worster, and the house stands on the old Worster farm, which is still an extensive tract, but which before the civil war was one of the large plantations in that part of northern Virginia which we may include as the Washington neighborhood.

Here a long section of good road which convicts have built from Fairfax Court House westerly, ends, and a section of road which is worse than the Little River pike at its worst before its improvement set in, begins. The convicts are at work rebuilding the road a mile or [...] beyond this point and over this part of the road heavy trucks pass every few minutes in their work of hauling broken rock to the place where building operations are in progress. This heavy traffic on a dirt road has had the effect which you can understand without a description of it being set down [...].

The road at the point along its course which the Rambler has reached now begins a long descent to a famous stream that flows through a broad, deep valley. The sides of the valley are [...] and the land for a long way in all directions is cleared and under cultivation, so that from the rim of the valley impressive prospects lay before and below you. Where the road begins to dip is a very old and gray house, which stands near the south side of the pike and in front of it the rural letter box is inscribed "R. S. Jones." the road continues its down grade and the bank on each side rises higher. On the top of each bank is a strip of trees and bushes, all vine-tangled and an old worm rail [...]. Beyond the strip of wild shrubbery and [...] are open fields. About fifty yards of the left of the road and two hundred from the old gray house with the Jones letter box before it a clump pf cedars are growing in a field from which the hay has recently been cut. In this clump of cedars are four [...] trees set in a row and equally spaced, and two younger trees which are growing out of alignment. Knowing well the significance of that cedar clump in an open field, the Rambler climbed the bank at the roadside and the rail fence and walked across the field. Several of the [...]—seven or eight of them—are sunken and marked at the head and foot by rough pieces of country rock. It may be that conventional monuments stood there once, but opposing apples time and time again swept over this farm and civil way showed Little more, if any consideration for [...] of the [...] than homes of the [...]. There are among the cedars [...] inscribed [...] and one of them was set there before the civil war. These monuments are inscribed:

"Sacred to the memory of Tabley Worster, who departed this life June 10, 1858, aged sixty-five years. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord."

"To our sister, [...], Worster, died January, 11, 1871, aged thirty-three years. [...] in the Lord."

Under one of the cedars stands [...] marble [...] than the others, and the [...] is Francis Mitchell, born march 24, 1861; died February 20, [...], At Rest."

The people who were laid to rest in this little plot beneath the melancholy shaoe of the cedars were members of the Worster family which owned these fields, and it is a daughter of this old Virginia family, who is now Mrs. George Beach, in the big frame house among the maples— maples that are not now green, but yellow and pink with here and there a spark of scarlet.

The stream which run through this wide valley is Difficult run. Perhaps those of you who travel through the Great Falls region will feel a sense of wonder that Difficult flows so far to the southwest. However, it is there, but [...] is not the character of stream you know. Your Difficult foams over rocks between tall, steep hills, rests calm and pool-like between hill of rocks and trees which (hills) rise 300 feet above its shining water, and where it pours into the Potomac is a jagged wilderness of naked granite. The run along that part of its course where the Rambler is now walking is normally a gentle little branch, but it drains a large watershed, and in time of heavy rain it can cut some capers and became a really tempestuous, almost a "temperamental," brook, Difficult run begins about one miles south of the point where we are standing among the ton, becomes and cedars. It is born in and lows for more than a mile through fields which were associated with the battle of Chantilly, though the actual fighting of Chantilly took place more than a mile west of the creek. From the place where Difficult passes under the Little River turnpike to the mouth of the creek below Great Falls is ten miles measured on the [...] and turns takes fifteen miles to make the run from the pike to the Potomac.

The south rim of the valley of Difficult run, where you stand now and where the solemn cedar trees guard the old graves, was occupied by the Union Army under Gen. John Pope. The [...] claimed to have beat off the Confederate attack on them at Chantilly, fell back in the direction of Washington and took up a position on these Worster fields and others fields, believing that the Grays would come at them again. Gen. Pope, in the long article which he wrote for the Century, giving his account of the second Bull Run campaign—and a very fair accounts it was—wrote that the Confederates did not renew the attack on them, but moved off toward the upper Potomac. That was right. Having driven Pope almost back to the protection of the defenses of Washington the army of Lee was heading northward for the invasion of Maryland and the Antletam campaign was beginning Concluding his story of the second [...] run campaign, and of course including the battle of Chantilly, September 1, 1862, Gen. Pope wrote:

"On the morning of the 2d of September the army was posted behind Difficult creek from Flint Hill to the Alexandria pike. The enemy disappeared from our front, moving toward the upper Potomac with no attempt to force our position. And here the second battle of Bull run may be said to terminate. On that day I received from Gen. Halleck orders to take position in the [...] in from of Washington, with a view to reorganizing the army and eliminating such of the discordant elements in it [...] had largely caused the misfortune of the latter part of the campaign."

[...] of the Difficult run region where the Alexandria and Little River turnpike crosses the [...] is the section referred to by Gen. Pope [...] Hill, while the general mentions is not known to the Rambler at this writing. It is about half a mile down the road [...] to the creek. The pike passes at a considerable height above the stream on a single-arch stone bridge. A few years ago the Rambler was impressed that this was a picturesque bridge whatever picturesque [...]. It is an over-worker word, [...] a thing is certainly not always beautiful because it is like a picture or because one can make a picture of it. On can make a picture of a flapper a cake-eater, an empty tomato can and a row of houses, yet they would not be picturesque.

Not long ago this bridge had the look of age. It had the color, the marks, the cracks and the vines that suggest age and respectability, though it would be unfaithful and unreasonable to assume that a thing is respectable just because it has happened to survive for many years. Sometimes the good live long and sometimes the good die young. However, this bridge had that mellow, viney look which you can see today in the red stone bridge over Bull run and the gray stone bridges on the Georgetown and Leesburg pike over Sugarland run and Broad run. Evidently the Difficult Run bridge became too old and feeble and it was rebuilt, the masons using the stone of the old bridge and then adding cement guards or ramparts on the roadway. The stones are old, but the mortar in which they are set looks new and no vines have woven their web. Still the bridge is worth looking at.

Aside road leaves the pike some [...] from the bridge and crosses the stream "at grade"—that is it fords it. This way gives men a chance to water their horses and perhaps to tighten the spokes in their buggy wheels. By the side of this lower road the Rambler sat and refreshed himself with a sandwich and a pipe. Close to the stone arch grows a large maple, whose trunk, a four feet above the roots, separates into three big stems. The tree was an autumn study. The inner foliage was green and the ends of the branches yellow stained with pink. Here and there was a single branch, on which all the leaves were red. Thousands of leaves, green in the middle were turning yellow, orange and pink around the edge. On some leaves the points were red, while the rest of the leaf was green. Along the road grew maple arrow wood, which had leaves of crimson: dwarf [...] blood red, young sassafras green, red and yellow, sour gum that was crimson and scarlet, and sweet gum, whose star-shaped leaves were emerald, [...] and dark purple. Near the smoking rambler shafts of go denrod looked gray and weedy, but the purple aster the aster with purple rays and yellow disks, was fresh and gay. Climbing out of the valley of Difficult and pushing on for about a mile, one comes to Ponder, where a road from Herndon to Legato, on the Warrenton pike, crosses the Little River pike. This is the [...] road which crosses the field of Chantilly, and the site of Pender was [...] ground.

Pender is not one of the large cities of the world. There is a store, a [...] and a few houses in sight as you stand at the crossroad, but in the groves and woods within a quarter of a mile of the general store and the smithy live a number of the Rambler's friends. J. E. [...], who says he is distant relative of Johnny, keeps the store and Tom Kidwell is the blacksmith. Then there are Milton Tinder, Ralph Croson, [...] Dove, Alvin Birch, James Thompson, Fred Stowe Edgar Rollins, Flavins Alder, Roy Gooding, Louis Thompson, W. W. Kidwell, W. W. Cross and Joe Croson, the barber. The Rev. Mr. Thrasher comes out from Fairfax to preach in the new Methodist Church, and Miss Tracey Gaines of Burke teaches school, Miss Tracey, the Rambler and Miss Margaret Ballard took a drive in Miss Margaret's new car, but that's another story, and I believe that I will not even promise to tell it in a future "ramble."

Miss Margaret said we would go by the schoolhouse and pick up Miss Gaines. We waited in the road until school was out. At last some little boys and girls came out and then some big boys. And then a little lady with golden hair and a blue dress came out and began to fasten the windows and lock the door. "Who's the girl in blue," I said. "Why, That's the teacher," said Miss Margaret. I registered surprise. So small! So young! Naturally. I readjusted my hat, fixed my necktie and began to knock off some of the dust picked up on the tramp from the cotehouse. Two big boys began to "wrassal" or skylark in the schoolyard. The little girl in blue left off looking up the door, turned quickly with an air of authority and shouted though in a voice that was music. "James, cut that out!" James is about six feet tall but he cut it out. Then the little schoolmarm walked briskly out to the car and said briskly. "You see they're so much larger than I that I have to step on them." She put her little lunch box in the car and climbed aboard.

Then Miss Margaret said, Miss Gaines, this is the Rambler; of [...], you have heard of him and read his stories!" The [...] little [...] looked at the very closely, and just as I was about [...] burst with pride she said, crisply:

"I'm very sorry, sir, I never heard of you before."

Well, it's all right now, but you, dear reader, are not going to get any more of the story. There is a music machines in the Ballard horse, good dance records, and the floor is slick. Miss Margaret has invited me out, and Miss Tracey has promised to be there, too.

Last Sunday the Rambler told that Pender, on the establishment of a post office there, was named after the Confederate general William Dorsey Pender. The land belonged to James Thrift and his wife, Lucretia Reid Thrift, daughter of Gen. Reid. Their daughter Lilly married Capt. John N. Ballard, and later the Thrift farm became the Ballard farm. The postal authorities wanted to name the post office Ballard but Capt. Ballard suggested that it be called Pender. It was so named. The Rambler said that he knew that Pender's troops were in action there, and he believed, though he would not set it down as a fact, that Gen. Pender was wounded at that place. I have not found any record that Gen. Pender was wounded there.

Pender was born in Edgecomb, N. C., in 1834 and graduated from the West Point Military Academy in 1854. He served in the 1st and 2d Regiments of artillery and was transferred to the dragoons in 1855, seeing service in Indian campaigns. He resigned march 21, 1861; was colonel of the 6th North Carolina Infantry in the peninsula campaign under Gen. Joseph E. Johnston and for gallantry at Fair Oaks was made a brigadier general by President. Davis. His brigade was made up of North Carolina regiments and he fought in all the campaigns of the Army of Northern Virginia until Gettysburg. He was wounded at Chancellorsville, but tool over the command of A. P. Hill's division when that officer was disabled. He was made major general May 27 1863, and given command of the brigades of Scales, Lane, Thomas and McGowen. His leg was shattered in the second day's fighting at Gettysburg. He was removed to Staunton, the leg amputated and he did not recover from the operation, dying at Staunton July 18, [...]. When North Carolina created a new county of New Hanover county in 1875 it named it Pender county.

It was the intention of the Rambler in this story to take you back to the place where Gen. Phil Kearny and Gen. Isaac Stevens were killed on the Ballard farm and show you some other tragic relies there and then take you over to the Ballard farmhouse and introduce you to Capt. John and the rest of the family, but we will go there another Sunday.

THROUGH a Broad and Deep Virginia Valley—Tombstones in a Clump of Cedars—Where Gen. Pope's Army Met Confederates—How the village of Pender received Its Name and Some Facts About Gen. William Dorsey Pender, Confederate Army Leader.

John Harry Shannon