loved victory and defied defeat. I am informed by those who knew him better than I, and who were usually closer to him in battle, that he often exposed himself unnecessarily to the most imminent danger. Besides, it is not improbable that he had predetermined to win a victory upon this field or die in the attempt. This hypothesis is supported by Hon. T. W. Brown, of Memphis, who relates that during the march of the army on General Hood's ill-fated campaign from Georgia to Tennessee, some occasion at night had called together a large number of officers and soldiers. Public speaking became the order of the evening, and General Cleburne was called on for a speech. He at first declined, for he was not a talking man. But being repeatedly called for, he at last appeared, and after instructing the soldiers as to how they should fight, and especially advising them that when once under fire to press bravely forward and never turn back, he said in effect: ‘I will accomplish what I next undertake or else I will perish in making the attempt.’ Franklin was his next battle; it was also his last. Thus perished the ‘Stonewall of the West,’ as he was often called. A truer patriot or knightlier soldier never fought and never died. Valor never lost a braver son or freedom a nobler champion. As he charged amid the tempest of conflict he seemed the impersonation of the genius of battle—a veritable Mars on the field of war. He was a patriot by instinct and a soldier by nature. He loved his country, its soldiers, its banners, its battle flags, its sovereignty, its independence. For these he fought, for these he fell. He could not have done more for his own loved fatherland than he did for the land of his chosen allegiance, in whose just defence he relinquished his life. He fell in the uniform of his adopted country, amid her soldiers and advancing flags. He died unconquered, and in doing so, threw Eastern lustre upon Southern valor. Two countries share in the glory of his name. Ireland gave him to the world; the Confederacy to immortality. Their joint emblems—a happy conception—fitly mark the monument that here speaks to posterity—Erin's harp in bed of shamrock; the Confederate seal, showing Washington on warhorse, wreathed in Southland's blooms and products; the sunburst of Ireland over the inscription ‘Franklin,’ symbolizing that his life passed thence in an effulgence of glory. All the honors we can do him cannot equal his deserts. This beautiful monument, which love erects to memory and gratitude gives to glory, is but a modest expression of his country's esteem. I think we do no injustice to any one, living or dead, when we say that he was the most distinguished and efficient soldier of his
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