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Robert E. Lee Portrait
ability made him better than he
saw himself. One who truly loved him, who had for years felt her affections
drawn to that higher part of his nature, with which hers had instinctively
sympathized, could not but find her heart moved by this manly humility and
honest love. It was very sweet to think that she had been the instrument of good
to him. And thus, when he ceased to speak, and turned his eyes from the far
distance into which they had been gazing as he told the past, he saw in her eves
a look of exquisite tenderness softened yet more by a slowly gathering tear. He
took her hand and drew her to his heart; and from that moment each knew that
that was to be no future separation, but that each would find in the other's
love the strength and comfort for their life's future trials.
And now, as Lawrence Moore has
ceased to be an enlisted man, and as the disposition displayed in that
enlistment has been replaced by a higher one, evolved through the very
circumstances which seemed to give the first the government of his life, the
history of his enlistment may be considered as at an end.
OUT on the slope of yon Virginian
Just where those pines their
cone-like shadows wave Across that clump of laurel, make the hero's grave. The
pulse is throbless now; the strong heart still; Glazed the deep-sunken eye; the
That hurled back scorn for scorn,
and bent not save To God's, is broken, and forever. Chill
And stark in death's solemnity he
Silent for evermore beneath the
starry skies, Wherefrom the dew-drops fall
On curse and pall
Like tears from pitying angel's
Drape his cold form with the old
starry flag, Storm-frayed and battle-fretted, it is now The fittest wreath for a
dead soldier's brow.
For his who waved it from
embattled crag, Sternly defiant of the bastard rag
South Mountain's side was forced to bow, And in
Antietam's conflict did not lag,
Flying in fierce haste, as if to
Safety beyond the crimsoned
While broad and fair,
The old flag wave above the
Sore wounded in the thick of the
first fight At Fredericksburg he fell, but died not,
At least not then, nor on that
sacred spot. Wounded and prone upon the awful height, Where rebel foes had
massed their fearful might,
Hurling such storm of hissing
shell and shot
As made the darkened air gleam
He lay 'mid carnage and dark
scenes of death
That made our vet'rans draw an
As through the storm
They bore his form
And gained the Rappahannock's
Then came long weeks of suffering
The tardy convalescence; swift
The almost certainty of death;
the dim perhaps That he might live to love and fight again;
For fight he would, and round his
neck a chain Whereby a locket hung told the love-gaps
In his young heart were full. She
And life leaped up like sudden
Beneath her smile.
After a while
She went away, but going, bore
No prouder smile has ever
wreathed man's lips Than his wore when he held her to his heart, And said
farewell. He did not think to part
For life; but life is made of
And few there be who find not
Turning his eyes, feeling the
He smiled as one may smile who
And kissed her, laughing, bidding
her to pray
That he might win a
shoulder-strap some day.
Then one more kiss,
Too full of bliss,
And he turned back to camp. She
went her way.
Then came the word to march. With
heart more light Than morning-dew on flower beneath his feet,
He trod the path, as if he
thought to greet
But friends upon the way. In the
We crossed the river. There lay
the frowning height And trench that we must gain in battle's heat,
And at the bayonet's point. But
God and Right
Were on our side, he said, and
felt no fear.
Forward! we charged with shout
They sent back grape.
Death's awful shape
Uprose before us, silent, stern,
We faltered not. Some fell, but
To fill the gaps where death had
claimed his own. Shout answered shout, shell burst on shell; a groan Went up
when cannon spoke with awful tongue,
And then their yielding hordes
were backward flung, And on the heights stood Union troops alone.
How heaven's high arch with
shouts of victory rung!
But he—our Color-Sergeant?—heart
When rebel chaff before the
He, fighting, fell
In that wild mimic hell
Of sulphurous flame and smoke.
Yes; bury him there upon the
Of that Virginian hill: 'twas
there he fell:
His name and station let some
rude board tell.
'Tis rebel soil, 'tie true, yet
who can hope
A nobler grave than his? Trust
heaven will ope
As quickly to his soul, that
through the swell
Of battle-music sought the azure
As if from chancel-aisle it fled.
Yet who shall bear the news that
he is dead To her? She waits
Beside Hope's gates,
Nor knows her warrior's soul is
THE vases of heliotrope in Miss
Delford's dainty little parlor were distilling their sweetest fragrance in the
delicious evening breeze that tossed the muslin curtains to and fro through the
wide opened windows, and the cherry boughs overshadowing the piazza eaves were
hung with sparkling jewel-sprays of crimson fruit. July was purpling all the
horizon with amethyst light; July brooded over the hills with tender warmth; and
Clara Delford, in her dark rich beauty, seemed like a typic blossom of the
brightest month in all the year.
Did Captain Verner notice the
changing color in her olive cheek; the blaze that glowed beneath
her jetty eyelashes, in strange,
seductive brilliance? Did he observe how artistically she had posed herself on
the tiny foot-stool close beside Mildred Moore's shadowy white draperies and
pure, colorless features? Clara Delford understood contrast and harmony—Captain
Verner did not; he only knew that the two girls were like rose and lily, fervid
sunshine, and pale, white starlight!
"If I could only do something for
those poor suffering soldiers," she said, breaking the momentary silence, as if
in continuation of the previous conversation. "Would it not be possible for me
to devote a portion of my small means to their comfort?"
Captain Verner smiled; for the
heiress to speak of her "small means" seemed, even to him, like an unnecessary
bit of ostentation.
"Certainly," he said; "and I can
assure you the money could not be spent to better purpose."
"Will you object to acting as my
treasurer?" smiled Clara, with pretty, appealing softness in her eyes.
"Not at all; there are, in my own
regiment, many cases of hardship, even destitution, which it would give me great
pleasure to relieve. Thank you"—as she opened the tiniest of silken purses and
placed a bank-note in his hand with blushing confusion—"I know from experience
how much good twenty dollars can do!"
All this time Mildred Moore had
sat silent in the shadow of the cherry boughs; now she rose and quietly
withdrew. Captain Verner's eyes followed her slight willowy figure with
"You mustn't misinterpret poor
dear Mildred's silence," lisped Clara, as the door closed; "of course she is
interested in your hospital reminiscences; but I don't think she cares very much
about the poor soldiers—Milly's nature is not sympathetic, and—"
"And," added the straightforward
soldier, "her means are very limited. She gives music-lessons or something,
He had risen, and stood there,
tall and handsome, in the golden July moonlight, Clara's beau-ideal of a man.
"Good-night, Miss Clara. I must
stop at Harwood Grange for five minutes to tell them about their two boys who
fell at Fredericksburg, and I've two or three little errands to attend to in the
town. We soldiers, you know, are scarcely at our own disposal."
He held the little jeweled hand
in his a moment, perhaps unconscious how closely he pressed it, and then
vanished through the crimson-sprinkled branches of the cherry-trees. As he
walked along, whistling softly to himself, he thought of Clara in in her
strange, transcendent beauty—of her melting, liquid eyes, and her mouth, like
Cupid's bow, carved in scarlet coral.
"It was generous in her to give
that money," he thought. "But I can't understand—hang it! it's no business of
mine, I suppose —but why couldn't Miss Mildred have expressed her sympathy in
words, at least. It annoys me a little —and yet I don't, for the life of me, see
why it should."
"You sent that set of onyx to my
mother?" he asked, an hour or so later, as he entered the stylish little jewelry
store in the main street of the town. "Yes? Then it's all right, and I may as
well settle the bill."
He tossed a fifty-dollar Treasury
Note on the counter as he spoke.
"I hardly like to part with that
money," he laughed. "The fact is, I've kept it about me so long that it seems
almost like a lucky-penny. However, there it goes—hand over your receipt."
He dashed the bit of paper into
his pocket-book with the quickness that characterized all his motions, and
walked out again whistling the low refrain that made a sort of company for his
It was nearly midnight, the air
dewy and sultry, and the stars blazing in the violet concave of heaven, yet
Captain Verner still sat in his balcony, idly looking out upon the summer night,
with the faint fragrance of his cigar wreathing about him. Was he thinking of
Clara Delford or—
"Half past eleven—high time I was
asleep," soliloquized the Captain, at length, giving his cigar a toss into the
quiet street below, and entering the room where a shaded lamp cast a circle of
subdued light on heaps of disordered papers.
"Hallo—what's this?" he said,
half aloud, taking up a tiny note that lay lightly on the top. "This is a new
arrival in my chaos of documents, or I'm mistaken."
The direction, "Captain Verner,"
was in a strange handwriting—nor did the contents afford any clew. Nothing
appeared further than a fifty-dollar note wrapped in a bit of paper on which was
penciled these words: "For the soldiers!"
"Clara Delford again!" was
Verner's first exclamation. "What a splendid creature that is!"
The next glance, however,
discovered new ground of conjecture and perplexity—he held the note in the full
glare of the lamp, turning it eagerly from side to side.
"I thought I couldn't be
mistaken," he muttered; "it is the very note I paid at Atkinson's tonight—here
are my initials "E. V." in the corner. Now, how on earth—"
He paused, apparently in deep
"Very provoking that I can't find
out to night," he murmured; "but I'll go to Atkinson's the first thing in the
The early dew was yet weighing
down the half-blown roses in the simple town garden, when Captain Verner entered
the jewelry store where he had purchased the set of onyx for his mother.
"What can I do for you this
morning, Captain?" inquired the brisk little jeweler, as he came forward,
rubbing his smooth white hands.
"A great deal, Mr. Atkinson: you
can tell me to whom you paid out this Treasury Note last night!"
He laid the mysterious
"greenback" on the glass counter; Atkinson took it up and scrutinized it
closely, then referred to his books.
"Certainly I can," he said; "I
purchased a very beautiful pearl ring from a lady yesterday evening, and paid
for it with that very identical bill."
A pearl ring!—the simple words
seemed to throw him off the scent again. The jeweler unlocked his show-case, and
took out a small violet-velvet case, lined with white silk, in which glimmered a
pearl of surpassing beauty, set in a plain gold circlet.
"There it is," he said. "Ten
years ago I sent to New York for that very ring, ordered by Dr. Moore as a
birthday gift for his little daughter, then just twelve years old."
"Dr. Moore!" repeated Verner.
"Yes. Times are sadly changed
now, yet I did not suppose that Miss Mildred would ever have been induced to
part with that favorite jewel—the only relic, I may venture to say, she has ever
retained of wealthier days."
Captain Verner looked down at the
ring through a strange unwonted mist. How different was this silent sacrifice of
sweet memories and old associations to Clara Delford's ostentatious gift from
her overflowing coffers! "Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I
thee." The words came to him like a revelation of Mildred Moore's nature.
Only nine o'clock, but not too
early for Mildred Moore to be watering her sweet-peas and geraniums in the
cottage garden. Nay, so busy was she with a tiny pink-blossom which had broken
from its fastening, that she never heard approaching footsteps until Captain
Verner's shadow fell across the flower border. Then she started up, with large
dilated eyes, like those of a frightened fawn, and carmine burning in her
usually colorless cheeks.
"Do not be startled, Miss
Mildred," he said, with gentle, reassuring accents. "I have only called to thank
you for your kind donation to the sick soldiers."
She clasped her hands over her
flushed face, like a child detected in some fault.
"I beg your pardon; I did not
think—I never intended—"
"Nay," he interrupted, earnestly,
"I have learned the history of the ring. Your sacrifice is not unappreciated,
He stopped, for she had burst
into convulsive sobs and tears. It was entirely a new phase of her being.
Captain Verner stood completely confounded. Had he known her all these months
and yet remained ignorant of the passionate depth and emotion of her character?
She was there before him no longer the fair, passionless statue, but a lovely
woman, made lovelier still by tears! The citadel of his heart—undermined long
ago, unconsciously to himself—surrendered at this last attack. And who could
"Don't, Mildred!" he said,
caressingly. "My dearest girl, if you knew how it grieved me to see you weep—"
"Pardon me," she faltered; "I am
ashamed of being so foolish, but it was all I had to give!"
"Mildred," he whispered, opening
the violet-velvet casket, "I have brought back the ring: will you accept it
She looked at him with startled
eyes and glowing cheeks, as if some deep meaning lay hidden in his words.
"Let me place it on your finger,
love. Wear it as an engagement ring." He went on: "Oh! Mildred, I never knew
till now how dear you were to me! Will you trust your future to me?—will you be
my cherished, treasured wife?"
What Mildred's answer was is not
at all to the purpose; only Mrs. Grundy thinks it very strange "that Miss Moore
should wear a pearl engagement ring when diamonds are all the fashion!"
MARCH ON VICKSBURG.
MR. THEODORE R. DAVIS, our artist
in the Southwest, accompanied
General Grant in his splendid march from Grand
Gulf to Jackson and
Vicksburg, and has sent us the pictures which we give on
396. Mr. Davis writes:
CAPTURE OF JACKSON.
"HEAD-QUARTERS OF MAJOR-GENERAL McPHERSON, May 15, 1563.
"On the morning of the 14th the
troops of General M'Pherson's corps moved from Clinton, upon the direct Jackson
road, and in a pelting rain-storm marched rapidly toward that place, the
division under the command of General Crocker being in advance. At 10 o'clock,
when within three miles of Jackson, the pickets of the enemy were driven in, and
the column was at once advanced in line of battle. The enemy's 'line of battle'
was soon discovered posted in an excellent position to the right, but reaching
across the road. The character of the country, though mostly open, offered
facilities for advancing, under cover of undulations, to within a short distance
of the enemy's line, with but little exposure of our troops to their fire; and,
in a drenching shower, the division did so. The skirmishers of the opposing
columns were within less than one hundred yards of each other. The shower had
just ceased. M. Battey, First Missouri Artillery, under Lieutenant McMurray,
opened fire. At the same time the order was conveyed to General Crocker to
'charge the enemy's line with his division, Holmes's brigade in the centre,
Sandborne's to the right and rear, Boomer, with his brigade, to the left and
rear.' The division came steadily up the slope of the hill, over and down at a
double-quick. They met a severe and effective fire; but, never wavering,
continued the charge with cheers up the second slope. Just at this moment the
rebels broke. Flying in disorder, their exposed backs were a target for a fire
until this moment reserved. At the crest of the last hill was posted the rebel
reserve, who, as our men reached the line of fences and were breaking them down,
opened a fire that sent to their long account too many of our gallant men. The
17th Iowa and 10th Missouri suffered principally at this point.
Here the enemy could not stand,
but joined the precipitate retreat of their advance. The guns of Dillon's
battery had followed our charging troops in their advance, and were here
speedily unlimbered, and one after the other, as they were brought in battery,
opened with canister. Just at this moment General Crocker rode along the line of
his advancing men, and was greeted with cheer upon cheer.
"The division of
was advanced and disposed to the left and reserve. Just at this time
Sherman, who, with his corps, was advancing, three miles distant and to our
right, opened a brisk fire with his artillery.
"General McPherson now steadily
advanced his force, and occupied the enemy's works. Almost at the same time
General Sherman's troops entered the town through the works, at some distance to
the right, the division of General Tuttle forming his advance. The rebel cavalry
was just leaving as the generals, with their escorts, dashed through the storm
to the Capitol, over which was being raised the colors of the 59th Indiana, by
Captain Cadle, of General Crocker's staff, and Captain Martin."
DESTRUCTION OF THE RAILROAD AND REBEL STORES AT JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI.
"HEAD-QUARTERS OF MAJOR-GENERAL
JACKSON, MISS., May 15, 1863.
"The Army marched this morning
toward Vicksburg, leaving the brigade of General Mower to destroy the property
of the 'Rebel Government' —railroad, penitentiary, etc. While sketching the
scene I could not but think of the sketches that I have sent to you of the
devastation of the rebels on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and the raid of
Stuart into Chambersburg. At the moment we seem to have beaten the rebels at
this their favorite performance."
BATTLE OF CHAMPION'S HILL.
"HEAD-QUARTERS OF MAJOR-GENERAL
COMMANDING 17TH CORPS ARMY
NEAR BLACK RIVER, May 17, 1863.
"The division of General Hovey
being in advance, discovered the enemy in force, posted in excellent position
upon the crest of a hill covered with forest and undergrowth. General Hovey
deployed his division, that of General Logan forming upon his right. The line
advanced, preceded by a heavy line of skirmishers, and was soon heavily engaged.
"The batteries of Captains Rogers
and De Solyer opened with good effect. Captain Rogers's battery, posted in a
good but exposed position, was soon charged upon; the enemy being severely
repulsed by three regiments of Gen. John E. Smith's brigade and the guns of De
"An attempt to check our advance
and flank our right was observed by General McPherson, who sent the brigade of
General Stevenson and two batteries to meet it. After a short and sharp
engagement, the fight at this time being severe along the whole line, General
Stevenson charged with his brigade, driving the enemy and capturing their
battery. The mass of the rebel troops seemed now to have been thrown against our
left, and General Hovey, being forced to retire, was at once supported by
General Crocker, who sent from his division two regiments of Colonel Sandborne's
brigade, and the brigades of Colonels Boomer and Holmes. These troops held the
rebels in check, and shortly advanced, driving the enemy, capturing 1600
prisoners and a battery.
"A general advance, now ordered
by General Grant, who had been upon the field during the entire day, many times
in exposed positions, found the enemy in full retreat toward Edwards's Depot,
General McPherson sending in pursuit General Stevenson's brigade, with De
Solyer's battery, followed by General Carr's division. In this retreat the
rebels lost General Tighlman, killed by a shell.
"The enemy lost nearly two
thousand prisoners and thirteen guns."
FIGHT AT THE BLACK RIVER BRIDGE.
"HEAD-QUARTERS OF MAJOR-GENERAL
COMMANDING 17TH CORPS ARMY
CAMP NEAR VICKSBURG, May 18,
"We had fought the battle of
Champion's Hill, and at night lain down as tired as mortals ever are; yet the
next day, finding the enemy, we, before dinner, captured his works, seventeen
guns, and over two thousand prisoners.
"The brigade of Colonel Lawler
was ordered to advance upon the right, and the division of General A. J. Smith
upon the left, which they did, as illustrated by my sketch."
GENERAL BANKS'S CAMPAIGN.
WE publish on
pages 388 and
two illustrations of General Banks's operations in Louisiana, from sketches by
our special artist, Mr. Hamilton.
One of them shows us the
TRIUMPHAL ENTRY OF THE ARMY OF GENERAL BANKS INTO THE CITY OF
LOUISIANA, on 4th May, 1863. Alexandria was a very important point for the
rebels to hold, being one of their depots of supplies from Texas and the Red
River region, besides being the key to an important cotton and sugar raising
section of country. Its fall, the immediate credit of which is due to the navy,
was really occasioned by the successful operations of General Banks in the
Opelousas country, and his entry into the city may therefore fairly be deemed
No time was lost by General
Banks, however, in idle glorification. Alexandria having fallen, the troops were
mustered for the assault of a much more formidable point—Port Hudson. Our
illustration on page 389 shows the embarkation of part of his army at
on the Atchafalaya River, Louisiana, for Port Hudson, on 21st May, 1863. The
transports St. Maurice and Empire Parish are receiving the soldiers and
preparing to seam off under the guidance of their negro pilots. They have since
disembarked the men, and we now know that the great tussle at Port Hudson has
begun, fiercely and bloodily.