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Robert E. Lee Portrait
all he had uttered a
monosyllable; and a stinger; a thorn of speech not in her vocabulary, nor even
in society's. Those might be his manners, even when not aching. Still, it seems,
a feather would have turned the scale in his favor, for she whispered, "I have a
great mind; if I could but catch his eye."
While feminine pity and social
reserve were holding the balance so nicely, and nonsensically, about half a
split straw, one of the racing four oars went down close under the Berkshire
"London!" cried Hardie's
"What are you there, old fellow?"
murmured Hardie, in a faint voice. "Now, that is like a friend, a real friend,
to sit by me, and not make a row. Thank you! thank you!"
Presently the Cambridge four-oar
passed: it was speedily followed by the Oxford; the last came down in
mid-stream, and Hardie eyed it keenly as it passed. "There," he cried, "was I
wrong? There is a swing for you; there is a stroke. I did not know what a
treasure I had got sitting behind me."
The ladies looked, and lo! the
lauded Stroke of the four-oar was their Edward.
"Sing out and tell him it is not
like the sculls. He must fight for the lead, at starting, and hold it with his
eyelids when he has got it."
The adherent bawled this at
Edward, and Edward's reply came ringing back in a clear cheerful voice, "We mean
to try all we know."
"What is the odds?" inquired the
"Even on London; two to one
against Cambridge; three to one against us."
"Take all my tin and lay it on,"
sighed the sufferer.
"Fork it out, then. Hallo!
eighteen pounds? Fancy having eighteen pounds at the end of term! I'll get the
odds up at the bridge directly. Here's a lady offering you her smelling-bottle."
Hardie rose and turned round, and
sure enough there were two ladies seated in their carriage at some distance; one
of whom was holding him out three pretty little things enough—a little smile, a
little blush, and a little cut-glass bottle with a gold cork. The last panegyric
on Edward had turned the scale.
Hardie went slowly up to the side
of the carriage, and took off his hat to them with a half-bewildered air. Now
that he was so near, his face showed very pale; the more so that his neck was a
good deal tanned; his eyelids were rather swollen, and his young eyes troubled
and almost filmy with the pain. The ladies saw, and their gentle bosoms were
touched: they had heard of him as a victorious young Apollo, trampling on all
difficulties of mind and body; and they saw him wan, and worn, with feminine
suffering: the contrast made him doubly interesting.
Arrived at the side of the
carriage he almost started at Julia's beauty. It was sun-like, and so were her
two lovely earnest eyes, beaming soft pity on him with an eloquence he had never
seen in human eyes before; for Julia's were mirrors of herself: they did nothing
He looked at her and her mother,
and blushed, and stood irresolute, awaiting their commands. This sudden contrast
to his petulance with his own sex paved the way. "You have a sad headache, Sir,"
said Mrs. Dodd; "oblige me by trying my salts."
He thanked her in a low voice.
"And mamma," inquired Julia,
"ought he to sit in the sun?"
"Certainly not. You had better
sit there, Sir, and profit by our shade and our parasols."
"Yes, mamma, but you know the
real place where he ought to be, is Bed."
"Oh, pray don't say that,"
implored the patient.
But Julia continued, with
"And that is where he would go
this minute, if I was his mamma."
"Instead of his junior, and a
stranger," said Mrs. Dodd, somewhat coldly, dwelling with a very slight monitory
emphasis on the "stranger."
Julia said nothing, but drew in
perceptibly, and was dead silent.
"Oh, madam!" said Hardie,
eagerly, "I do not dispute her authority; nor yours. You have a right to send me
where you please, after your kindness in noticing my infernal head, and doing me
the honor to speak to me, and lending me this. But if I go to bed, my head will
be my master. Besides, I shall throw away what little chance I have of making
your acquaintance; and the race just coming off!"
"We will not usurp authority,
Sir," said Mrs. Dodd, quietly; "but we know what a severe headache is, and
should be glad to see you sit still in the shade, and excite yourself as little
"Yes, madam," said the youth,
humbly, and sat down like a lamb. He glanced now and then at the island, and now
and then peered up at the radiant young mute beside him.
The silence continued till it was
broken by a fish out of water.
An under-graduate in spectacles
came mooning along, all out of his element. It was Mr. Kennet, who used to rise
at four every morning to his Plato, and walk up Shotover Hill every afternoon,
wet or dry, to cool his eyes for his evening work. With what view he deviated to
Henley has not yet been ascertained; he was blind as a bat, and did not care a
button about any earthly boat-race, except the one in the AEneid, even if he
could have seen one. However, nearly all the men of his college went to Henley,
and perhaps some branch, hitherto unexplored, of animal magnetism, drew him
after. At any rate, there was his body; and his mind at Oxford and Athens, and
other venerable but irrelevant cities. He brightened at sight of his doge, and
asked him warmly if he had heard the news.
"No; what? Nothing wrong, I
"Why, two of our men are plowed;
that is all," said Kennet, affecting with withering irony to undervalue his
"Confound it, Kennet, how you
frightened me! I was afraid there was some screw loose with the crew."
At this very instant, the smoke
of the pistol was seen to puff out from the island, and Hardie rose to his feet.
"They are off!" cried he to the ladies, and, after first putting his palms
together with a hypocritical look of apology, he laid one hand on an old barge
that was drawn up ashore, and sprang like a mountain goat on to the bow,
lighting on the very gunwale. The position was not tenable an instant, but he
extended one foot very nimbly and boldly, and planted it on the other gunwale;
and there he was in a moment, headache and all, in an attitude as large and
inspired, as the boldest gesture antiquity has committed to marble; he had even
the advantage in stature over most of the sculptured forms of Greece. But a
double opera-glass at his eye "spoiled the lot," as Mr. Punch says.
I am not to repeat the
particulars of a distant race coming nearer and nearer. The main features are
always the same, only this time it was more exciting to our fair friends, on
account of Edward's high stake in it. And then their grateful though refractory
patient, an authority in their eyes, indeed all but a river-god, stood poised in
air, and in excited whispers interpreted each distant and unintelligible feature
down to them:
"Cambridge was off quickest."
"But not much."
"Any body's race at present,
"If this lasts long we may win.
None of them can stay like us."
"Come, the favorite is not so
"Cambridge looks best."
"I wouldn't change with either,
"Now, in forty seconds more, I
shall be able to pick out the winner."
Julia went up this ladder of
thrills to a high state of excitement; and, indeed, they were all so tuned to
racing pitch, that some metal nerve or other seemed to jar inside all three,
when the piercing, grating voice of Kennet broke in suddenly with,
"How do you construe yaorpiuapyos?"
The wretch had burrowed in the
intellectual ruins of Greece the moment the pistol went off, and college chat
ceased. Hardie raised his opera-glass, and his first impulse was to brain the
judicious Kennet, gazing up to him for an answer, with spectacles goggling like
supernatural eyes of dead sophists in the sun.
"How do you construe 'Hoe age?'
you incongruous dog! Hold your tongue, and mind the race!"
"There, I thought so! Where's
your three to one now? The Cockneys are out of this event, any way. Go on,
Universities, and order their suppers!"
"But, which is first, Sir?" asked
Julia, imploringly. "Oh, which is first of all?"
"Neither. Never mind; it looks
well. London is pumped; and if Cambridge can't lead him before this turn in the
river, the race will be ours. Now, look out! By Jove, we are ahead!"
The leading boats came on, Oxford
pulling a long, lofty, sturdy stroke, that seemed as if it never could compete
with the quick action of its competitor. Yet it was undeniably ahead, and
gaining at every swing.
Young Hardie writhed on his
perch. He screeched at them across the Thames "Well pulled Stroke! Well pulled
all! Splendidly pulled, Dodd! You are walking away from them altogether! Hurrah!
Oxford forever, Hurrah!" The gun went off over the heads of the Oxford crew in
advance, and even Mrs. Dodd and Julia could see the race was theirs.
"We have won at last!" cried
Julia, all on fire, "and fairly; only think of that!"
Hardie turned round, grateful to
beauty for siding with his university. "Yes, and the fools may thank me; or
rather my man, Dodd. Dodd forever! Hurrah!"
At this climax even Mrs. Dodd
took a gentle share in the youthful enthusiasm that was boiling around her, and
her soft eyes sparkled, and she returned the fervid pressure of her daughter's
hand; and both their faces were flushed with gratified pride and affection.
"Dodd!" broke in the incongruous
dog," with a voice just like a saw's; "Dodd! Ah, that's the man who is just
plowed for smalls."
Ice has its thunder-bolts.
ADMIRAL PORTER'S DUMMY.
WE publish on
page 236 an
illustration of "ADMIRAL
PORTER'S SECOND DUMMY," from a photograph made from a sketch by him
above all others who was best fitted to illustrate the craft. We need hardly
explain that this second Dummy, like the first, was merely an imitation Monitor,
made of a few planks and some tar barrels, and intended to frighten the
Vicksburg rebels. We are permitted by a distinguished officer of the navy to
copy the following extracts from a letter recently received by him from the
"YAZOO RIVER, March 12, 1863.
"I have not sent you a sketch for
some time, but make up for it by the one inclosed.
"Much as we have come to mourn
over the loss of the Indianola, I don't suppose that a more ridiculous thing
ever occurred than the blowing up of
this gun-boat after the rebels
had her so securely in their clutches; and it will hardly be believed when the
history of this war is written that a wooden dummy could have achieved so
remarkable a victory.
"I must confess, however, that
the dummy was a much more formidable looking vessel than the Indianola in every
respect—especially her wooden gun, which was a monster.
"After passing the batteries at
night, and defying all the guns in
Vicksburg, she lay a whole day opposite the
canal—the rebels trying in vain to sink her, and never for a moment discovering
their error—when she got in the current again, and 'sailed in' on the
Queen of the West (which vessel had just
arrived at Warrenton), when it was amusing to see that rebel rammer clap on
steam and vamose the ranche. Indeed, she never stopped until she came to the
Indianola; but finding that the grim monster was after her, they applied the
torch, and blew her and every thing in her to atoms. It was a great relief to
all of us here, for we could imagine the damage the Indianola could have
effected on the river in case she had been saved. But it was not to be; for like
all the Confederate iron-clads she went up the spout or down below to 'Davy' to
condole with her friends. Night before last I sent off another terrific
monster—a perfect imitation of our Lafayette, which latter vessel dropped down
toward the turn of the river in the afternoon, and shelled the fortifications
with a few 100-pounders. At 11 o'clock at night her dummy namesake made her
appearance before the batteries, belching out huge volumes of smoke through her
beef-barrel chimneys, and the way the rebels peppered her was a caution to all
dummies. But she drifted by unscathed, stood the fire of the Warrenton
batteries, and went on her mission own the stream as calm as a clam at
high-water, until the Carthage batteries, twenty miles below, pitched into her,
and she still, like old Brown's soul, kept moving on. This little artillery
sport must have cost the rebels a thousand charges of powder and the bursting
and dismounting of five or six guns.
"The next time we try this game
they will find something better than 'dummies' to practice at."
OUR special artist, Mr. Theodore
R. Davis, has sent us sketches of the work of CUTTING THROUGH THE SOUTHWESTERN
BAYOUS, which we reproduce on
page 225. With the sketches we received the
following correspondence, which is interesting:
"ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE, NEAR
LA., Tuesday Night, March 17,
"The present stage of water in
the Mississippi has, as you are aware, partially overflowed the Louisiana
peninsula opposite Vicksburg; has encroached upon the encampments of our troops,
compelling one of the corps of the army to remove to Milliken's Bend; and has
even trespassed upon the sacred precincts of the dead. One of the many rude
burial-places down here, where the defenders of the republic who fell in battle
last December, and who have since perished of disease, are now lying in eternal
silence, but with glorious suggestiveness, has been inundated by the flood, and
the graves are but partially visible above the surface of the broad-expanding
"Melancholy, touchingly sad,
looks the roughhewn cemetery when the sky is clouded and the moon beams out,
ever and anon, as if in pity, upon the buried heroes whom Fortune has not spared
and the elements will not respect. It would seem, to a poetic mind, as if the
pale priestess of heaven were offering up a prayer in her nightly vigils for the
gallant dead, whom a grateful nation's memory should embalm, as they lie in
their narrow tombs so far away from their native homes, with no requiem save
that the mournful Mississippi chants, and no audible lament but that the soft
Southern breezes waft over this dull and dreary shore.
"ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE, GENERAL
THIRTY-FIVE MILES ABOVE VICKSBURG,
Thursday Evening, March 19, 1863.
"Near this point, through Muddy Bayou, it is proposed to effect an entrance into
Steele's Bayou, and thence into Yazoo River, some miles above Haines's Bluff,
which is the right of the rebel army at Vicksburg, and one of the strongest of
the enemy's positions. Our gun-boats have been in Steele's Bayou reconnoitring
for two or three days, and an engagement, supported by infantry, is soon
expected at the Bluff, which is strongly fortified. The country hereabout is, as
you know, very flat and swampy, and the level of the Yazoo at the present stage
is somewhat lower than the Mississippi; but the water in Muddy Bayou flows to
and from the great parent stream.
"To reach Steele's Bayou it is
necessary to construct corduroy roads and bridges, and these are being rapidly
built; Stuart's division having already disembarked and begun their march into
the interior. The distance to Steele's Bayou is not much over a mile, and our
troops will very speedily be encamped upon the banks of the Yazoo. The road
thither is naturally very difficult, as I myself experienced, and you will
observe by the sketches I inclose. One is necessitated to wade, to cross logs,
to build rafts, in short to convert himself into an amphibious animal.
"Two of the Union transports of
small size, the Eagle and Silver Wave, have already gotten into Steele's Bayou
through the Yazoo, but not without serious damage to their upper works from the
thick boughs and trunks of the impeding gum, cottonwood, and cypress trees. The
exertion one is compelled to make in bayou navigation down here at this season,
the thermometer ranging at 90° and upward, causes a copiousness of perspiration
equal to that supposed, in the popular apologue of the day, to proceed from an
African endeavoring to assist at an American election. The season here is quite
far advanced. The trees are green; the fruit trees and blackberry bushes all in
bloom; the birds singing as merrily as if such a thing as secession had never
"Stuart's Division are working
hard, and the General himself has doffed his coat and toils like a Trojan with
his men; believing very justly that a commander's example is necessary to
animate and encourage his soldiers. Stuart is emphatically, as I have styled
him, a 'working general;' is energetic, patriotic, determined, and has already
distinguished himself by his ability and gallantry on several hard-fought
FIGHT AT NEWBERN.
WE illustrate on
page 237 the
unsuccessful attempt of the rebels to take Newbern, North Carolina, on 14th ult.,
from a sketch by Mr. E. Forbes. The artist gives the following account of the
"NEWBERN, NORTH CAROLINA, March
"The quiet of this department was
disturbed today at 5 o'clock P.M., while at dress parade, by the arrival of a
courier from Deep Gully, stating that our outposts were driven in by the rebels,
who were in force twelve miles out. In an instant all was in commotion, and at
half past 5 the Forty-sixth, the Fifth, and Twenty-fifth Regiments of Infantry,
with Belger's Battery of 6 guns, of Rhode Island, were on the march to the scene
of conflict. Our route lay up the Trent road (if road it might be called),
through a dense forest of timber, while at every step the men would sink to
their knees in mud and water; yet with all these obstacles they pressed on, and
at 12 o'clock had reached the outermost picket post, where it was thought best
by General Palmer to halt with the main force, while Companies K, B, G, and F,
of the 46th, under the charge of LieutenantColonel Walkley, took the road at the
right and marched three miles to the Red House station, and there formed in line
of battle. At daylight on the morning of the 15th the cavalry of that station
traversed the adjoining woods, and finding no enemy returned. At this moment we
heard heavy firing in the direction of Newbern, and shortly after a courier
arrived with a dispatch ordering our immediate return, as Newbern was attacked
by a large force from the other side of the River Neuse. The troops, much
fatigued from the previous evening's march and loss of sleep, with three hearty
cheers took "double-quick" on the return march. When within four miles of
Newbern we could see the smoke of exploding shells as they dropped in the woods
occupied by the rebels; these came from our gun-boats, which were constantly
plying up and down the river. Hardly had our troops formed in line of battle on
the River Neuse to protect several regiments of troops which were ordered over
the river to check the advance of the rebels, when another courier arrived from
the outposts that we had just left, bringing information that the rebels were
driving in our pickets and rapidly advancing on the city. At this juncture of
affairs the brigade of General Lee, composed of the Forty-sixth, Twenty-fifth,
and Fifth Massachusetts, were again ordered back to check their advance, making
the third time in the short space of twenty-four hours we had taken the same
journey, without rest and with but little food to eat. During this time an
incessant firing was kept up by our gun-boats, which had the effect of silencing
the batteries of the enemy on the river. I herewith send you a sketch of the
scene, as presented during a part of the day, March 14. Never on so short notice
were troops, batteries, and all the paraphernalia of war brought into
requisition in better order than on this occasion. The river presented a grand
scene. For miles above and below the banks were lined with troops and citizens,
while the rafts of troops, the fleet of boats, the roar of cannon, the hissing
shells, all gave evidence of the horrors as well as the grandeur of war. The
rebels had sworn to occupy Newbern on this day, it being the anniversary of the
day on which they lost the city by the valor of our brave troops. The last three
days have been eventful ones to our arms, as they have shown that our new
regiments are firm, and can be relied on whenever called to act at a moment's
notice and under trying circumstances. Lee's Brigade is now in pursuit of the
rebels on the Trent, and as the mail closes directly I must close without giving
the sequel of their proceedings. The city is safe and order is being restored."
SAD Autumn's tears were falling
Stern Winter's voice was calling
Pining for Spring, the withered
Or widely flew to find the
I knelt there in my sorrow
I thought upon the morrow
Despised, forgotten, friendless,
I knelt and wept upon that cold,
Why did she die—the last, the
Oh, for the past—the loved and
Why will he not return to my lone
Forget, forgive, and love me,
ne'er to part?
Sister, my heart is breaking!
'Twas so true!
Can you not hear its aching
Call for you?
Tell him I'm dying—dying here
Dying for grief—for you, for him,
The dead leaves rustle 'neath a
A whistler—on his shoulder
Rests her head.
She is forgiven—by the cold white
She often kneels there now, but