Newspaper Page Text
THE SOUTHERN WORLD, NOVEMBER 15,1883.
26
Written especially for the Southern World.]
NOVEM ItER.
BY HATTIE C. SEWARD.
A rosy flush and golden glow
.Herald the comlngday;
Dew-drops glitter, and a purple haze
.Makes the mountain seem far away.
A dreamy sweetness is in the air,
And a mist from the river Is creeping;
A sky-lark's note sounds sweet and clear
From fields bare from the reaping.
Down in the meadow beside the stream
Are reeds and plumy grasses;
Up on the hillside flowers bloom
And cluster In fragrant masses.
Each leaf has a touch of benuty rare,
Berries are crimson and brown,
And there’s many a brilliant touch and gleam
In November’s regal crown.
Written especially for the 8outhem World.]
INDIAN SUMMER.
BY CLARA O. 8TEEI.R.
O, beauteous spirit, Thou that breathest now
Thy mellowed richness over earth and skies,
Pouring new glory on the autumn woods,
Empurpling crimson with thy Tyrian dyes.
Morn on her fair and distant height,
Dips in warm light the pillar’d cloud,
On valleys deep the little gold-bird moves,
The purple finch sends forth his whistle loud.
0, what a glory Is this life to him.
For whom the winds and forests have a voice,
For Nature speaks in tones most eloquent,
And bids the world-worn heart rejoice! rejoice!
THE DeSAUSSURES.
A Historical Romance.
BY B. V. SAWYER.
CHAPTER XIT.
While the officers elected were thus
organizing their staff and establishing
their quarters, their men were busy
gathering brushwood, broken fence rails,
old lumber, boxes and tar barrels for
the grand illumination that night, and
long before sundown an immense pile of
combustibles had been heaped up ready
to be ignited into a triumphal bonfire in
honor of tbe success of the soldiers’
ticket. Had either of these gentlemen
consulted his own inclination he would
have gladly dispensed with the jollifica
tion, but having, as it were, by their
own volition forced the offices upon them,
the men were equally determined to rati fy
their choice hv a spontaneous demon
stration of good will and soldierly com
radeship. Especially did the young
Colonel deprecate the demonstration, not
only on account of its doubtful taste, but
because of its manifest impropriety.
He felt, that the officers, in some degree,
considered him an interloper, and his
election a triumph over themselves.
Their own choice of field officers had
been so signally set aside as if to show
them that their wishes in such a matter
were not of the slighest consequence.
They could, in fact, look at his exalta
tion in no other light, than that of a re
buke to their assumption or defiance of
their wishes. Many of them had never
heard of him before, while only a few
knew anything of him or his family.
The few he had casually met since flu
morning had eyed him with looks of too
evident distrust, while one or two en
couraged hv the fastidious Capt. Jack
son had purposely cut him. Captain
Jackson’s coat sleeves were one glitter
ing labyrinth of gold lace and gilttnssel
sparkling enough to tickle an Ashnntees
hung nendant from his gaudilv plumed
hat. The great, strapping fellow with
his legs protruding a foot through his
coarso ieans breech oa, was too much for
the dnintv taste of the Captain, and
he had to put his hand up to his nose
and turn awav as in the course of his
dnt.v DeSanssure came noar him. Our
hero understood all this, and while he
smiled in good natured contempt of the
dainty nonsense of the fastidious Cap
tain yet, for tho gdod of tbe service
he was anxious to conciliate his good
offices. He knew that the success of
his command as well as of himself, de
pended upon the e*r>rit de corp* of the
regiment, and in order to promote this
he would like to establish a respectful
if not friendly relation with all nis offi
cers as well sis men, and while he should
not stoop to a cringing or even fawning
overture, he was unwilling by any seem
ing exultation to engender a possible
further estrangement. As soon as his
official detail of duty was finished he
went to his old company and calling
sergeant Wilson and a few others aside
he told them of his fears and asked them
to see the leading spirits among the men
and beg them to be careful not to do or
say anything that would compromise the
good understanding that ought and must
obtain between oflicers and men.
* Let us have the bonfires and a few
speeches if they like, and as much racket
as the boys can make with their drums,
but, for God’s sake, boys, let it all be in
perfect good humor.”
“ Yes; we understand that, Frank, or
—I beg your pardon, Colonel—we have
talked it all over, and nothing of the
sort you fear will be done. In fact, the
whole camp is in sqch a jolly good humor
that you couldn’t make them mad if you
would,” answered Wilson. “By golly,
I believe thev even would be glad if you
would turn the Cap. loose. They all
feel more like hugging the universe than
kicking up a row. It will do them good
Colonel, and if the officers will have the
sense to improve the occasion, it will be
a fine opportunity for wiping out every
thing but good will and converting the
regiment into a band of brothers. We
intend to give ’em a chance; we intend
to call every officer in the regiment out
and encourage them to say something
pleasant. If they don’t do it, then we
will know at once who are our friends.”
“Iam glad to know it Wilson; please
tell them so. And now, as you suggest,
I shall have Captain Chatham released,
and shall take occasion to let him know
that the request comes from the men he
has not treated so well,” said the
Colonel, shaking hands all around and
retiring to his quarters.
"Now, Colonel, if you say so, I will
go and withdraw the guards from
over Captain Chatham,” said Major
Lawson, as he entered.
I wish you would, Major,” he an
swered.
The Major hurried away. “Lieut
Shirly, by the order of the Colonel, I
come t*» request you to withdraw the
guards from Captain Chatham,” he said
addressing Shirly.
“ Thank you, sir; corporal retire your
guard and dismiss the men,” ordered
Shirly.
“Captain Chatham,” continued the
Major, addressing that officer, “you are
still under arrest, but are allowed the
liberty of your quarters. You are not
to pass the regimental lines,” and with
out waiting for the answer he half feared
his orders would provoke, he hurried
away.
The Captain looked after him a mo
ment in unfeigned astonishment, and
then instead of the torrent of vengeful
threatening the Lieutenant expected to
hear poured forth, he said:
“ Well, well, Shirlv, did you ever-see
nnvthing in your life so cool as that!
Who the devil is he, anyhow?” he
naked.
“That, sir, is our Major—Major Law-
son,” answered the Lieutenant.
*‘ Lawson, Lawson. ’ ’ repeated the Cap
tain, reflectively. “ Well, I must do him
the credit to sav, that for a smooth, girl-
faced hov, his impudence beats the old
harrv himself,” he added.
“Oh. ves; there’s no starch about
him! He knows his business. How
ever, be’s used to it, you know,” an
swered Shirly. “ He’s a West Pointer 1”
West Pointer?” repeated the Cap
tain.
“Yes; he was at West Point, and
would have graduated this month had
he not. resigned,” replied Shirly.
“ But how the devil came he a pri
vate?” asked the Captain.
“Oh.T suppose he volunteered, like
Frank did. to show his willingness to do
his dutv anywhere,” answered the other
with a little cut.
The Captain winced a little, hut he
had had enough of altercations for one
dav and after a second he said:
“But. von don’t tell me, Shirly, that
these fellows have actually gone*ahead
and usurped .the command of the regi
ment alreadv? ”
“ Usurped is hardly the word Captain,
they have assumed ’the command and
everything i« working like clock-work,”
answered Shirly.
“ But they had no right to do it in such
hot-haste. I intend to contest the elec
tion. I intend to have it set aside,” re
plied the Captain.
“ Oh, well, you can do that anyway.
Their assuming command will not pre
vent you from contesting; only,you see,
the thing couldn’t stand still, you know,
until a contest can be decided’, that will
have to go through the circumlocution
office, you know, and I hope the war will
he over before it could get through all
that red tape. And besides, Captain,
the order ordering the election was ex
plicit enough and instrncted the officers
elected to assume command and report
for duty at once. You need not blame
them for what they have done. Yon see,
things are pushing. It takes a short
hand writer to keep up with history
now.” *
“Batdon’t the whole thing look like
a conspiracy to you—a mutiny, in fact?”
asked the Captain.
“ Oh, no, not at all, I never witnessed
a more orderly election in my life, and I
may say, considering the number of votes
cast, a more unanimous one,” answered
Shirly with another sly cut.
“Yes; too uttterly unanimous!” said
the Captain, with a lugubrious grin, and
then after a moments reflection he con
tinued: “But anyhow, Shirly, the fel
low Lawson struck me.”
Oh, no, it was the other, Captain
Norris, that hit you!” interrupted
Shirly.
“Oh, the devil; you know what I
mean. Blast Captain Norris, I shall call
him out for that,” indignantly explained
the Captain. “What I mean is I was
struck by this chap’s coolness—a beard
less boy coming in here and bearding me
—a Douglas in my hall—and then having
the audacity to put me under guard. By
heavens, that’s too bad: and ordering
the guard to shoot me like a dog if I at
tempted to run. Why, I never heard of
such a thing before. Old Suwarrow,
himself, would not have had the cheek
to treat one of his captains so. I don’t
know, Shirly, which to do—blow his
brains out for his impudence or applaud
him for his coolness.”
“ If you were to ask my advice, Cap
tain, I should say go to him and compli
ment him for his coolness, and ask him
for his friendship. It would be the most
pleasant way out of the trouble, and I
think the best,” answered Shirly.
“ Well, I am almost inclined to do it,”
replied the Captain; “however, T will
wait awhile and see. They might think
I was trying to shirk the responsibility
of my action.”
“I think, Captain, we all know you
too well for such a thought as that,” re
plied Shirly.
“Mars Dave, supper’s ready,” an
nounced his ebonv cook and factotum—
Eheneezer—called Sneezer for Bhnrt.
“All right,” answered the master.
“ Captain, eat with ns.”
“ No, thank you, Brice will have mine
ready in a few minutes; he was unde
cided whether they would let me eat an v
and did not think it worth while to cook
until I told him to risk it anyway,” smil
ingly answered the other.
The short summer twilight had now
fallen and a million fire-fly lamps flitting
through the encampment like so many
little silvery stars to the worlds of ruddy
gleams of the camp-fire, gave the scene
a dainty charm. I have seen many such
and they never lost their effect. Nearly
an hour’s stillness followed the first soft
hush of twilight, when, at the tap of a
drum, the silent camp was aroused and
a hundred long pine torches blazing
throughout the regiment lit up the scene
while the cry fall in was heard in every
company.
Company G, had a squeaky fife which
now set up its squeaking to the accompa
niment of the drum and heading the
procession, made for the regiment head
quarters. The coming demonstration
was understood and expected, and as if
by common consent officers and all re
paired to the place, where amid the
squeaking of the fife, the torch was ap
plied to the rubbish, and as the blaze
flashed up a hearty cheer burst from a
thousand throats, and then as the little
fife squeaked its last squ(e)ak, a cry was
raised, “ Colonel DeSaussure, Colonel
DeSaussure.”
Without tremor or affectation the
young Colonel stepped forward and be
gan; “ My friends—”
“Get up on the box—mount up, wo
all want to see you—mount the box!”
cried a dozen. “ Yes; get up we want
to see how our home-made Colonel
looks,” added another. “Yes, the
box—get up and let us see how a full
featherd Mulligan looks,” cried another,
and amid a continuous cry of “mount the
box,” he sprang upon a dry goods box
that had been rolled out for the occasion.
“ Now my feet is on my native heath and
my name it is Misther Mulligan,” cried
a wag ; A laugh followed this classic
quotation, and then respectful silence.
“ My friends and comrades, it has
been said 1 that out of the fullness
of the heart the mouth Bpeaketh.’ I
wish it was so in my case. If my mouth
was as full of words as my heart is of
feeling, I would be at no loss for langu
age to express my thanks for the honor,
you did me to day and the honor you do
me to night. But I do not find it so.
From the fullness of my heart I find it
difficult to speak at all; and perhaps it is
well. ‘ Fine speeches butter no pars
nips.’ If I could by a ready gratuity of
words repay you for the great kindness
you have done me, perhaps I would be
less solicitous by every thought, every
deed, every purpose of my life while with
you, to show how much I appreciate your
kindness, how deeply sensible I ain of
the great trust you have reposed in me,
and now profoundly grateful I am to you
for the honor.
“ Since my tongue, then, is so poorly
adequate to speak, I must let my future
conduct tell you how much I feel to-night.
You have, my friends, imposed upon my
inexperienced shoulders a grave respon
sibility—a responsibility that an older
and a better man may have well shrunk
from. I feel that not only your com fori
but your lives and your honor are in '
hands. God help me to discharge 2
duty and keep sacred the trust. i n t h„
exercise of the widely stretching author
ity given me over you, I shall try to hav«
an eye single to the good of the service
the success of our cause and the reputa
tion of the regiment. In these I shall
ask your hearty co-operation. I desim
a friendly, brotherly, and cheerful obe
dience to orders, and so desiring, I shall
try not to burden you with factious or
petty duties. I very well know that there
can he no honor won for myself unless it
is won by you. I very well know that
there can he no success won for our
cause unless that cause is upborne by the
brave hearts and strong arms of the rank
and file of our army. There can be no
division of duties as there can be no divis-
of honors. The rank that divides ug
separating me from the humblest private
in the ranks, is not one of conventional
etiquette insi ituted to pamper the person
al pride of one, or to degrade the other
but a practical ordinance essential to the
well ordering of the corps. However
much pride I may feel in the position I
now hold, it is in fact no more honorable
than the one from which you so trust
ingly lifted me to-dny. I try to analyze
my own feelings, and I think I feel no
more pride in the performance of my
duty now than T felt in the discharge of
my duly then. It is this thing—the faith
ful discharge of duly in any position-
that constitutes honor. All others are
hut the tinsel that gilds the butterfly’s
wings, brushed away by the first rude
louch of profane hands. But I will not
bore you with an exordium on duty. I
am speaking to sensible men, who have
as high an appreciation of duty as my
self, and with that same trust in your
patriotism and friendship that you have
so generously reposed in mine, I shall
rely upon your co-operation to make the
flOth Regiment of South Carolina Volun
teers the pride of our friends and the
dread of our enemies.
“ Again, my friends, wishing that I
could better thank you for your confi
dence by being more worthy, of it, I must
ask you to call on some one else for a
speech.”
The words were by no means impress
ive, but the pleasant manner of the
speaker—his voice firm but not over sure,
his gestures graceful and unstudied-
made the effort a happy one. It pleased
and propitiated the men without offend
ing the officers. Those who had never
seen him were surprised at his fine
manly appearance as much as they were
pleased with the modesty of his address.
By making no reference to the canvass,
lie showed that he had no friends to re
ward or enemieB to punish. By offering
no apology for the manner of his run
ning, he showed that he had no concern
for the manner in which they had put
nut their candidate. The hearty cheer
which greeted him as he bowed his
salute told how firmly he was fixed in
the good opinion of his men.
“He’ll do, hoys,” was heard all
around. “I told you so.” “Didn’t I
tell you so? ” was ns proudly responded.
And then, when the cheering had sub
sided, a call was made for Col. Norris.
The gallant gentleman had rather have
faced a hatterv, but there was no room
for dodging. With a comical look of shy
ness, he mounted the box, and, bowing
in acknowledgment of the three hearty
cheers given for him, he said:
“ Boys, I’m but a poor hand at speech-
making, at best. It always was an up
hill business to me, but I never before
in all my life tried to make a talk under
such embarrassing circumstances. You
have so completely overwhelmed me
with your kindness, and I feel so unde
serving of it all, that I feel like sneaking
out in the dark and telling my nearo
Bob to get up and excuse me. But, boys.
I can say this, and you all can bear me
out in it, that if I do not deserve the
honor you have conferred upon me, I al
least aid not ask you for it. It came
all unsolicited, as it was unexpected;
and this makes it all the more embar
rassing to me. When I was first told o
what you intended I was indignant, as »
placed me in the attitude of a sneak and
a traitor towards my brother officers-
Smarting under this imputation, I even
denounced your movement as an under
handed one, and swore I would have
nothing to do with it. But when, uj
spite of all this, you went ahead and
elected me anyhow, I felt that I would
be an ungrateful beast not to accept your
kindness, and, like our gallant Colonel.
do my level best to prove by my conduc*
how gratefully I appreciate your kind"
ness. I hope, my friends, you will
cuse me from any further remarks, an
accept my thanks for the honor you have
done me.” i
Three hearty cheers followed this, an
then Major Lawson was called. ,
With a modest grace the smooth i» c * u
Major responded: