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PUBLISHED BY IAHES GARDNER,
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NEW SERIES.] "
MARCHING TO DEATH!
A PRIZE POEJI.
BY <3*o. HF.KBEKT SABS.
1 •■■*— ; rs
'•The National Quarterly depicts a re* rkable scene
which occurred some years since on one -it .tin? British
transport ships, rhe eommander of the troopaon board,
seeing that the vessel must soon sink, ahu taat there
was no hope of saving his men, drew them up in order
of battle, and, as in the presence of a human enemy,
bravely faced the doom that was before them. We
know of no more impressive illustration of the power
of military discipline in the presence of death.”
[Charleston Mercury, Nor. l Jh, ISG2.
i.
The last farewells are breathed by loving lips,
The last fond prayer for darling ones is said,
And o’er each heart stern sorrow’s dark eclipse
Her sable pall hath spread.
* a at '
ii.
Far, far beyond each anxious watcher’s sight,
Baring her bosom to the wanton sea,
The lordly ship sweeps onward in her might,
Her tameless majesty.
hi.
Forth from his fortress in the western sky,
Flashing defiance on each crested wave,
Ontglares the sun, with red and lowering eye,
Grand, even in his grave. .
IV.
Till, waxing bolder as his rays decline,
The clustering billows o’er his ramparts »wee&
Slow droops hi* banner—fades Ms light divfne,
* And darkness rule* this deep* ; i A
- ... x-
Look once again !—Night's sombre shades have fled ;
But the pale rays that glimmer from their sheath,
Serve but to show the blackness over head,
And the wild void beneath. .
VI.
Mastlesa and helmless drifts the helpless barque;
Her pride, her majesty, her glory gone,
While o'er the waters broods the tempest dark
And the wild winds howl on.
VII.
But hark! above the madness of the storm,
There comes an echo o’er the surging wave,
Firm at its call the dauntless legions form,
The resolute and brave.
VIII.
Eight hundred men, the pride of England’s host,
In stern array stand marshall'd on her deck,
Calmly as though they knew not they were lost—
Lost in that shattered wreck.
IX.
Eight hundred men!—old England's tried and true,
Their hopes, their fears, their tasks of glory done,
steadfast, till the last foe be conquered too,
And the last fight be won.
x.
Free floats their banner o’er them as they stand:
No mournful dirge may o’er the waters ring,
Ontpeals the anthem, glorious and grand,
“The King! God save the King!”
XI.
Lower and lower sinks the fated barque, ,
Closer and closer creeps the ruthless wave,
But loud outswells across the waters dark, .
The death song of the brave.
XII.
Oyer their heads the gurgling billows sweep,
Still o’er the waves the last fond echoes ring,
Out-thrilling from the caverns of the deed,
“The King! God save the King!”
XIII.
Oh thou! whoe’er thou art, that reads this page,
Learn here a lesson of high, holy faith,
For all throughout our earthly pilgrimage
We hold a tryst with death,
* xiv.
Not in the battle field's tumultuous strife,
Not in the hour when vanquished foemen fly,
Not in the midst of bright and happy life,
t Is it most hard to die.
xv.
Greater the guerdon, holier the prize,
Os him who trusts, and waits in lowly mood;
Oh! learn how high, how holy courage lies,
In patient fortitude.
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AUGDSTA, GA., SATURDAY, JANUARY 17,1863.
THE STORY TELLER.
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.}-
BELLMONT.
BY MBS. SITE E. HI'NT.
The look of decided scorn that he received at
the end of this speech, warned him that his
theme was an unpleasant one, and he must
change it, or run the risk of offending his ele
gant hostess. *
‘How much Miss Dalzelle reminds me of
Lady Iredell,’ said he, directing her attention
to the opposite side of the room, where stood
Ada in the centre of a gay group. ‘ The same
royal bearing, so foil of splendid womanhood,
oombined with so much sweetness and gentle
ness of. manners. Whilst I was in Europe last
year, Lady Iredell was the tdast of every
Knight, and I little expected to And such a
counterpart in a daughter of ou» democratic
soil * for even when noble blood has not become
extinct, the associations and influences that are
thrown around, will,in a great degree,demoralize
tte nature. Now in Europe it is quite differ
ent. There the plebian and peasant are not
considered fit associates for the sons and
daughters of the higher classes. The lines of
list)notion are rigidly enforced, and the differ
outclasses taught to know and feel their rela
to each other. Wore it not for Uio^rong
congenial, social atmosphere.
His views exactly coincided with those of
Mrs- Daizell. We Americans are lamentably
deficient in a proper respect for family. The
sons of a blacksmith might be, and indeed, fre
quently are, admitted into the best circles.
Mrs. Daizell entirely ignored the fact, that
her good old grandfather had been an honest
son of Vulcan, and by the sweat of his crow,
put in motion the wheel of family prosperity,
but fortunately for the delicate nerves of his
aristocratic grand-daughter, died before her
ideas had arrived at such a height of moral
grandeur. . , .
* Mr. Ralston has good reason to be proud of
his protege,’ still rung in her ears. It had never
appeared to her in that light before. Now all
was clear as the noonday sun, and as she saw
Arthur, devotedly bending over her petted
child a new resolution formed itself in her
mind! and if Reinhold’sgood night was returned
with a degree of haughty coolness, never
shown him before, he was blissfully ignorant of
the fact, and his dreams prolific of angel
myriads, sailing the limits of unbounded space,
all wearing the face of his Ada, and chanting
in lew, sweet voices the words so pleasant to
his ear.
i Ada, come to my room as soon as you are
disengaged,’ said Mrs. Daizell in.a low tone to
her daughter, who, with her guests, were about
leaving the breakfast room on the succeeding
morning. Ada nodded a ready assent, wonder
ing what new amusement Mama had in con
templation for her friends.
The same subject was still engrossing the
thoughts of Mrs. Daizell, and the more she pon
dered it in her mind the more determined be
came her resolutions. Ada, she argued, will
not—cannot be so blind to her own interest, as
to persist in linking her future destiny with that
of a nameless dependant on an other’s bounty.
The proud name of Ada Dalzelle to be merged
into what? A name that was the gift of
oharity. No; she should never bring herself
so low, and Mrs. Dalzelle paced her chamber
floor with more excitement than her calm, cold
nature was want to exhibit. But what wouid
the Ralstons think and say? They.were a
family of undoubted standing, and could not be
insulted with impunity. But let their opinions
be what they would, she had marked out her
own oourse, and would pursue it.
‘Reject Reinhold! accept Arthur Bryonl’
and Ada looked at her mother with a surprised
%
and i jwiidered air, after attentively listening
for some minutes to her discourse. * Why in
the first place mama, Mr. Bryon has nevetgiven
me an opportunity of accepting him; and
surely you would not have the proud Ada Dal
zelle stoop to make such a proposition to
him, she said, unconsciously imitating the tone
and vesture of her mother.
The angry blood mounted to the brow of
Mrs. Dalzelle. She was not accustomed to con
tradictions, even from her petted child.
‘ Ada,’ she returned, looking in her face, and
speaking in a firm and steady voice, ‘ I hWe
made up my mind, and you shall obey.’
The defiant Hash in Ada’s eyes showed her
mother that her own spirit was not wanting in
that of her daughter. ‘ Mama, she commenced,
with a slightly quivering tone, why did you not
object to Reinhold before? You are familiar
with the whole of his past life, and I have
often heard you apply the epithets of noble,
good, and generous to him; what has he now
dona to forfeit your good will, and merit all this
from you ? He is far superior to Arthur Bryon,
with ail his boasted noble blood. I would just
as soon think of receiving a caress from Linnie’s
long eared poodle as from that little ape,
deetted in all the splendors of a merchant tailor;
and I tell you once for all I will not reject
Reinhold,’ and her hand was already on the
door.
' Ada,’ and the voice of Mrs. Dalzelle was a
tew degrees softer, as she intercepted her move.-
menVVJNplaying as little passion utf she
tOik’C .o.noi leave ttiac manner, but
wßu? yaqrt j ffftlmly t.hiW over wmtj have
said. <£>am your motherland have s
feel an interest in your welfare,’ and the arro
gant tone of authority was exchanged for the
more gentle powers of persuasion which she
knew so well bow to use to advadlage. She re
alized the danger of defeating her object
through hasty or passionate measures.
Ada threw herself iuto the designated chair,
appareutly in no mood for persuasion; but
when an nour later she joined her companions
in the parlor, no ripple disturbed the happy suu-
Bhine of her face.
Although Ada might have uttered the truth
when she told her mother that Arthur Bryan
had never given her an opportunity of showing
her preference, sne well kuew that it had been
her own fault; and tnat one encouraging look
or smile from herself would bring him an hum
ble devotee at her shrine. Throughout the day
she moved with the caim dignity of one who
had sacrificed much to attain a noble end.—
Had she not consented to cast from her, as a
worthless thing, the love of her playmate
friend for that of a comparative stranger. But
then, did not the object justify the act?—
Would it not be very selfish in her to sacrifice
the interest of the younger members of the
family to a silly school girl notion of love and
constancy ? Alter all, love was a
name—an empty sound; and her mama said
the longer she lived would but prove it. Mama
had given her a little of her own experience.—
Did she not marry papa, who was almost her
triple in age, tor wealth and position in the
world, when, if she had followed her own in
clinations at that time, as Ada wanted to do
now, she might have been plodding through
life as a poor school teacher or something 01
the kina—oh, horrors ! Yes, mama was right;
one must look beiore tney leap, and study eacn
side of tne question before the die is cast. —
Then what an advantage such an alliance on
her part would be, as the eldest representative
of the family, to Ben, Charley and little Linme.
Mama had told tor tint morning what she had
no idea of before : that papa had really worked
and made his own fortune in his younger tfiys;
that his wealth did not descend from lathe* to
son tor generations past. How how delightful
it would he to travel over Europe, and wander
through the grand old halls of ancestrel rela
tives, and if she didn’t love Artnur very much
she could ‘ respect ’ him. Mama bad oqiy ‘ re
spected ’ papa, and she was sure they lived
very happily together. Mama always addressed
him, as ‘ my dear,’ and ‘my love;’ and had her
Southern Field and Fireside.
AT THREE POfcUAKS Per ANNIJWI.
*
own way in everything. Now inuat she yield
to a weakness that her mother had so success
fully overcome. No, she would conquer them
and be strong, and. in order to do this, she must
meet Reinhold as seldom as possible. She
could not hear las searching glances, to read
her inmost soul When she did meet him it
must be in a crowd. When her visitors left,
she would spend a month with cousin Laura,
then she could write to him, and tell him that
she had claimed a woman’s privilege of chang
ing her mind.
CHAPTER VI.
How vain all ontward efforts to supply
The soul with joy ! The noontide sun Is dark,
And music discord, when the heart is low.
The musical rehearsal of Julia Hinton was
proving quite a success. Very little music and
a great deal of talk was the order of the even
ing. What if the rain did fall in torrents, and
every gust of wind sent it rattliDg against the
window sash ? It could all be drowned in the
magic of sweet sounds. The gay Julia was in
her ‘element,’ with a crowd of lively compan
ions around her, and never satisfied without ex
citement of some kind. Sue had impressed it
upon the minds ot her friends, that it was very
important that they should keep in practice
their musical talent by meeting once a week,
for their mutual benefit and improvement.
‘ Reinbold Ralston, you are certainly the
most, provoking man 1 ever met,’ and Julia 1
Hinton threw a piece of music *6 the opposite
side of the piaao, and pushed the stool back,
‘yoit knoij« that.stupid piece never whs beara
ble withodt the note accompUfinflebi; and I tola
you yesterday as plainly as I ceula speak to
bring your flute. What do you expect to do?
stand all the evening and hold your hands ? I
suppose you would have forgotten to oring your
self had 1 omitted a certain attraction in the
programme;’ aua she looked towards Ada, who
was sitting at some distance from them, hold
ing a guitar, and apparently examining a sheet
of music. ‘But as Sbakespear says, ‘To be
wise and love exceeds man’s mignt.’ Now
Reinnie, do be yourself again. You look as
though the worm had been feeding on the
damask of your cheek.’
, * Miss Julia seems to have been diving deeply
in poetical lore. Is Sbakespear a favorite au
thor ?’ asked Author Bryon approaching, and
leaning on the instrument.
‘No—yes,’ answered Julia, with a puzzled
countenance. ‘ When I feel in a humor for
moralizing I like to read his works, and then,
too, he Bays such witty things sometimes; but
I believe Byron, Goldsmith, Pope, Milton, and
Poliok, are ail equal favorites; aud Julia looked
round complacently to see the effect of her
words.”
* Phew 1’ and All Hinton stood at his sister's
elbuw, * why really Julia, you have a better
memory than I gave you credit for; I know
you have been studying the dictionary of
poetical quotations for the last two weeks, bat
1 bad no idea that you had learned your lesson
so well*
‘Perhaps a peep into it might refresh your
own memory a little; for, if I mistake not, I
heard you, a few days ago, qnote Byron and
give Campbell the credit. But as far as that
was concerned, you mignt have repeated
Mother Goose from the beginning to the end,
and said it was from Milton, for all that the lit
tle angelic creature, you were talking to, knew
about poetry or authors,’ returned Julia, not in
the least abashed. To upset her equilibrium
was rather a difficult matter; but she thought
it was too provoking in AH, when being intel
ligent was not usually her forte, to throw such
an air of ridicule over her remarks, aud before
Arthur Bryon too, who always had a quotation
at his tongue’s end; but she would remember
it» and enjoy his discomfiture on some future
occasion.
‘ Will you not sing this piece for me?' and
Reinbold presented a favorite song to Ada
‘I am tired singing,’ was her languid renly
without raising her eyes to his fao» He
drew back, replaced the song on the mua j c
IVOL 1.-NUMBER 3.