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Enters Ft. sumter, Continued from Previous Page)
at the news. They had calculated, it seems, on taking Fort Sumter without
resistance ; and as it commands Fort Moultrie, they would have reduced that
work, and taken Major Anderson and his command prisoners whenever they chose.
The Major was a little too smart for them, however. With the small force he has
he can hold Fort Sumter against a very large body of assailants, and in the
event of an attack, can shell
Charleston with his heavy bombs. However, to
console them-selves, the people of
Charleston resolved to occupy Castle Pinckney, a fort of minor
importance. The Charleston
Mercury gives the following account of the movement :
"The Rifle battalion, under command
of Colonel J. J.
Pettigrew, assembled promptly upon the Citadel green.
They were substantially equipped in winter uniform, with
blankets, knapsacks, and revolvers. The battalion numbered
150 men, and consisted
of detachments from
the Meagher Guards, the Carolina light infantry. and the
Washington light infantry. Shortly after four o'clock the
was given, and the companies
advanced in double-quick
time, without music, toward the Cooper River.
None of them, we believe, excepting the officers, were
aware of their destination. They embarked on the steamer
Nina, which immediately
headed for Castle Pinckney,
and the surmise soon became confirmed that the destination
of the command was to take possession
of that fortress.
On nearing the fort, a number
of men were observed on
the wharf, one
of whom, in advance of the
others, was observed
holding what appeared to be
a paper in his hand.
This was said to have been the riot act.
As soon as the
Nina touched the wharf, the
storming party who had been
detailed for that duty sprang ashore, and rushed round to
of the fortress, where the
is situated. This
was found closed, and a cry for storming ladders was soon
answered by a detachment bearing a
dozen or more
of them. These were instantly planted, and under cover
of the rifles
of the battalion, the walls
were escaladed and the
gates thrown open.
"On entering the fort it was found to be tenanted only
by an officer
of engineers and a small party
of whom made any resistance.
The engineer officer
was informed that he was at liberty to leave, and remove
his personal effects, and in
a few minutes he set out in
boat belonging to the fort, accompanied by four other men.
From the direction in which he steered, it
is supposed that
he went to
of a white star on
a red ground,
was then hoisted amidst loud cheers; and
when our reporter left a strong guard had been mounted,
and preparations for garrisoning the fortress were well advanced."
A DAY'S RIDE :
A LIFE'S ROMANCE.
BY CHARLES LEVER.
a pleasant little, dinner we had that day ! It was laid out in a little
summer-house of the inn garden. All overgrown with a fine old fig-tree, through
whose leaves the summer wind played deliciously, while a tiny rivulet rippled
close by, and served to cool our "Achten tholer"—an amount of luxury that made
quite wild with laughter.
"Is it cold enough ?" she asked,
archly, in her peasant-dialect, each time the old man laid down his glass.
As I came gradually to pick up the occasion-al meaning of her words—a process
which her expressive pantomime greatly aided—I was struck by the marvelous
acuteness of a mind so totally without culture, and I could not help asking
Vaterchen why he had never attempted to instruct her.
"What can I do?" said he, despondently; 4'
there are no books in the only language she knows, and the only language she
will condescend to speak. She can understand Italian, and I have read stories
for her, and sonnets too, ant of Leopardi, but though she will listen in
all eagerness till they are finished, no sooner over than she breaks out
into some wild Calarian song, and asks me is it not worth all the fine things I
have been giving her, thrice told."
"Could you not teach her to write?"
" I tried that. I bought a slate, and I made
it bargain with her, that she should have a scar-let knot for her hair
when she could ask me for it in written words. Well, all seemed to go on
prosperously for a time ; we had got through half the alphabet very
successfully, till we came to the letter H. This made her laugh immediately, it
was so like a scaffold we had in the circus for certain exercises ; and no
sooner had I marked down the letter than she snatched the pencil from me and
drew the figure of a man on each bar of the letter. From that hour forth, as
though her wayward humor had been only imprisoned, she burst forth into every
imaginable absurdity at our lessons. Every ridiculous event of our daily life
she drew, and with a rapidity almost incredible. I was not very apt, as you may
imagine, in acquiring the few accomplishments they thought to give me, and she
caricatured me under all my difficulties."
"Si, si," broke she in at this; for
with a wonderful acuteness she could trace something of a speaker's meaning
where every word was unknown to her. As she spoke she arose and fled down the
garden at top speed.
"Why has she gone? Is she displeased at your telling me all these things about
her?" asked I.
" Scarcely that ; she loves to be noticed. No-thing really seems to pain her so
much as when she is passed over unremarked. When such an event would occur in
the circus, I have seen her sob through her sleep all the night after. 1 half
suspect now that she is piqued at the little notice yon have bestowed upon her.
All the better if it be so."
"But here she comes again."
With the same speed she now came back to
us, holding her slate over her head, and show
ing that she rightly interpreted what the
old man had said of her.
" Now for my turn !" said Vaterchen, with a smile. " She is never weary of
drawing me in every absurd and impossible posture."
" What is it to be, Tintenfleck ?" asked he. " How am I to figure this time ?"
She shook her head without replying, and, making a sign that she was not to be
questioned or interrupted, she nestled down at the foot of the fig-tree, and
began to draw.
The old man now drew near me, and proceeded to give me further details of her
strange temper and ways. I could mark that throughout all he said a tone of
intense anxiety and care prevailed, and that he felt her disposition was exactly
that which exposed her to the greatest perils for her future. There was a young
artist who used to follow her through all the South Tyrol, affecting to be madly
in love with her, but of whose sincerity and honor Vaterchen professed to have
great misgivings. Ile gave her lessons in drawing, and, what was less to be
liked, he made several studies of herself.
"The artless way," said the old man, "she would come and repeat to me all
his raptures about her, was at first a sort of comfort to me. I felt reassured
by her confidence, and also by the little impression his praises seemed to make,
but I saw later on that I was mistaken. She grew each day more covetous of these
flatteries, and it was no longer laughingly, but in earnest seriousness she
would tell me that the 'Fornarina' in some gallery had not such eyes as hers,
and that some great statue that all the world admired was far inferior to her in
shape. If I had dared to rebuke her vanity, or to ridicule her pretensions, all
my influence would have been gone forever. She would have left us, gone who
knows whither, and been lost, so that I had nothing for it but to seem to credit
all she said and yet hold the matter lightly, and I said beauty has no value
except when associated with rank and station. If queens and princesses be
handsome, they are more fitted to adorn this high estate, but for humble folk it
is as great a mockery as these tinsel gems we wear in the circus.
"' Max says not,' said she to me one evening, after one of my usual lectures. '
Max says there are queens would give their coronets to have my hair, ay, or even
one of the dimples in my cheek.'
"'Max is a villain,' said I, before
I could control my words.
"' Max is a vero signor !' said she, haughtily, 'and not like one of us ; and
more, too, I'll go and tell him what you have called him.' She bounded away from
me at this, and I saw her no more till nightfall.
"' What has happened to you, poor child?'
said I, as I saw her lying on the floor of her room, her forehead bleeding, and
her dress all draggled and torn. She would not speak to me for a long while, but
by much entreating and caressing I won upon her to tell me what had befallen
her. She had gone to the top of the 'Glucksberg' and thrown herself down. It was
a fearful height, and only was she saved by being caught by the brambles and
tangled foliage of the cliff; and all this for ' one harsh word of mine,' she
said. But I knew better; the struggle was deeper in her heart than she was aware
of, and Max had gone suddenly away, and we saw no more of him."
" Did she grieve after him ?"
"I scarcely can say she did. She
fretted, but I think it was for her own loneliness and the want of that daily
flattery she had grown so fond of. She became overbearing, and even insolent,
too, with all her equals, and though for many a day she had been the spoiled
child of the troop, many began to weary of her waywardness.
I don't know how all this might have turned out, when, just as suddenly, she
changed and became every thing that she used to be."
When the old man had got thus far the girl arose, and, without saying a word,
laid the slate before us. Vaterchen, not very quick-sighted, could not at once
understand the picture, but I caught it at once, and laughed immoderately. She
had taken the scene where I had presented Vaterchen and herself to the ladies at
the tea-table, and with an intense humor sketched all the varying emotions of
the incident. The offended" dignity of the old lady, the surprise and
mortification of Miss Herbert, and my own unconscious pretension as I pointed to
the " friends" who accompanied me, were drawn with the spirit of high
caricature. Nor did she spare Vaterchen or herself ; they were drawn, perhaps,
with a more exaggerated satire than all the rest.
The old man no sooner comprehended the subject than he drew his hand across it,
and turned to her with words of anger and reproach. I meant, of course, to
interfere in her behalf, but it was needless; she fled, laughing, into the
garden, and before many minutes were over we heard her merry voice, with the
tinkle of a guitar to assist it.
"There it is,"
said Vaterchen, moodily. " What
are you to do with a temperament like that ?"
That was a question I was in no wise prepared to answer. Tintenfleck's
temperament seemed to be the very converse of my own. I was over-eager to plan
out every thing in life.
She appeared to be just as impulsively bent on risking all. My head was
always calculating eventualities ;
hers, it struck me, never worried itself about difficulties till in the
midst of them. Now, Jean Paul tells us that when a man detects any exaggerated
bias in his character, in-stead of endeavoring, by daily watching, to correct
it, he will be far more successful if
he ally himself with some one of a diametrically opposite humor. If he be
rash, for instance, let him
seek companionship with the sluggish. If his tendency bear to over-imagination,
let him frequent the society of realists. Why, therefore, should not I and
Tintenfleck be mutually beneficial ? Take the two different kinds of wood in a
bow : one will supply resistance, the other flexibility. It was a pleasant
notion, and I re-solved to test it.
Vaterchen," said I, "call me
to-morrow, when you get ready for the road. I will keep you company as far as
"Ah, Sir," said he, with a sigh, "
you will be well weary of us before half the journey is over; but you shall be
NEXT morning, just as day was breaking, we set out on foot on our road to
Constance. There was a pinkish-gray streak of light on the horizon, sure sign of
a fine day, and the bright stars twinkled still in the clear half-sombre sky,
and all was calm and noiseless—nothing to be heard but the tramp of our own feet
on the hard causeway.
With the cowardly caution of one who feels the water with his foot before he
springs in to swim, I was glad that I made my first experiences of companionship
with these humble friends while it was yet dark and none could see us. The old
leaven of snobbery was unsubdued in my heart, and as I turned to look at poor
old Vaterchen, and then at the tinsel finery of Catinka, I bethought me of the
little consideration the world extends to such as these and their be-longings.
"Vagabonds all!" would say some rich banker, as he rolled by in his massive
traveling-carriage, creaking with imperials and jingling with bells ; "
Vagabonds all !" would mutter the Jew peddler as he looked down from the
banquette of the diligence. How slight is the sympathy of the realist for the
poor creature whose life-labor is to please ! How prone to regard him as
useless, or, even worse, forgetting the while how a wiser than he has made many
things in this beautiful world of ours that they should merely minister to
enjoyment, gladden the eye and ear, and make our pilgrimage less weary ! Where
would be the crimson jay ? where the scarlet bustard? where the gorgeous
peacock, with the nosegay on his tail ? where the rose, and the honey-suckle,
and the purple foxglove, mingling with the wild thorns in our hedgerows, if the
universe were of their creation, and this great globe but one big workshop ? You
never insist that the daisy and the daffodil should be pot-herbs ; and why are
there not to be wild flowers in humanity as in the fields? Is it not a great
pride to you who live under a bell-glass, nurtured and cared for, and with your
name attached to a cleft-stick at your side—is it not a great pride to know that
you are not like one of us poor dog-roses? Be satisfied, then, with that glory ;
we only ask to live! Shame on me for that "only!" As if there could be any thing
more delightful than life. Life, with all its capacities for love, and
friend-ship, and heroism, and self-devotion, for generous actions and noble
aspirations ! Life to feel life ; to know that we are in a sphere specially
constructed for the exercise of our senses and the play of our faculties ; free
to choose the road we would take, and with a glorious reward if our choice be
the right one !
" Vagabonds !' Yes," thought I, " there was once on a time such a vagabond, and
he strolled along from village to village making of his flute a livelihood ; a
poor performer, too, he tells us he was, but he could touch the hearts of these
simple villagers with his tones as be could move the hearts of thousands more
learned than they with his marvelous pathos, and this vagabond was called Oliver
Goldsmith." I have no words to say the ecstasy this thought gave me. Many a
proud traveler doubtless swept past the poor wayfarer as he went, dusty and
footsore, and who was, nevertheless, journeying onward to a great immortality ;
to be a name remembered with blessings by generations when the haughty man that
scorned him was forgotten forever. "And so now," thought I, "some splendid
Russian or some Saxon Croesus will crash by and not be conscious that the thin
and weary-looking youth, with the girl's bundle on his stick and the red
umbrella under his arm, that this is Potts ! Ay, Sir, you fancy that to be
threadbare and footsore is to be vulgar-minded and ignoble, and you never so
much as suspect that the heart inside that poor plaid waistcoat is throbbing
with ambitions high as a Kaiser's, and that the brain within that battered Jim
Crow is the realm of thoughts profound as Bacon's and high-soaring as Milton's."
If I make my reader a sharer in these musings of mine, it is because they
occupied me for some miles of the way. Vaterchen was not talkative, and loved to
smoke on uninterruptedly. I fancy that, in his way, he was as great a dreamer as
myself. Catinka would have talked incessantly if any one had listened, or could
understand her. As it was, she recited legends and sang songs for herself; as
happy as ever a blackbird was to listen to his own melody ; and though I paid no
especial attention to her mu-sic, still did the sounds float through all my
thoughts, bathing them with a soothing flood; lust as the air we breathe is
often loaded with a sweet and perfumed breath, that steals into our blood ere we
know it. On the whole, we journeyed along very pleasantly, and what between the
fresh morning air, the brisk exercise, and the novelty of the situation, I felt
in a train of spirits that made me delighted with every thing. "This, after
all," thought I, " is more like the original plan I sketched out for myself.
This is the true mode to see life and the world. The student of Nature never
begins his studies with the more complicated organizations; he
sets out with what is simplest in structure, and least intricate in function ;
he begins with the extreme link of the chain : so, too, I start with the
investigation of those whose lives of petty cares and small ambitions must.
render easy of appreciation. This poor Mollusca Vaterchen, for instance. To see
is to know him ; and the girl, how absurd to connect such a guileless child of
nature as that with those stereotyped notions of feminine craft and subtlety !"
I then went on to imagine such future biographer of mine engaged on this portion
of my life, puzzled for materials, puzzled, still more, to catch the clew to my
meaning in it. " At this time," will he say, " Potts, by one of those strange
ca-prices which often were the mainspring of his actions, resolved to lead a
gipsy life. His ardent love of nature, his heartfelt enjoyment of scenery, and,
more than even these, a certain breadth and generosity of character, disposed
him to sympathize with those who have few to pity and fewer to succor them. With
these wild children of the roadside he lived for months, joyfully sharing the
burdens they carried, and taking his part in their privations. It was here he
first met Catinka." I stopped at this sentence, and slowly repeated to myself,
"' It was here he first met Catinka !' What will he have next to record?"
thought I. "Is Potts now to claim sympathy as the victim of a passion that
regarded not station, nor class, nor fortune; that despised the cold
conventionalities of a selfish world, and asked only a heart for a heart ? Is he
to be remembered as the faithful believer in his own theory—Love, above all ?
Are we to hear of him clasping rapturously to his bosom the poor forlorn girl?"
So intensely were my feelings engaged in my speculations, that, at this critical
pass, I threw my arms around Catinka's neck and kissed her. A rebuke, not very
cruel, not in the least angry or peevish, brought me quickly to myself, and as
Vaterchen was fortunately in front and saw nothing of what passed, I speedily
made my peace. I do not know how it happened, but in that same peace-making I
had passed my arm round her waist and there it remained—an army of occupation
after the treaty was signed—and we went along, side by side, very amicably—very
We are often told that a small competence—the just enough to live on—is the bane
of all enterprise ; that men thus placed are removed from the stimulus of
necessity, and yet not lifted into the higher atmosphere of ambitions. Exactly
in the same way do I believe that equality is the grave of love. The passion
thrives on difficulty, and requires sacrifice. You must bid defiance to mankind
as your choice, or you are a mere fortune-hunter. Show the world the blushing
peasant girl you have made your wife, and say, " Yes, I have had courage to do
this." Or else strive for a princess—a Russian princess. Better, far better,
however, the humble-hearted child of nature and the fields, the simple,
trusting, confiding girl, who regarded her lover as a sort of demi-god, would,
while she clung to him
" You pressed me so hard!" murmured Catinka, half rebukingly, but with a sort of
pouting expression that became her marvelously.
"I was thinking of something that interested me, dearest," said 1; but I'm not
sure that I made my meaning very clear to her, and yet there was a roguish look
in her black eye that muzzled me greatly. I began to like her, or, if you prefer
the phrase, to fall in love with her. I knew it—I felt it just the way that a
man who has once had the ague never mistakes when he is going to have a return
of the fever. In the same way exactly did I recognize all the premonitory
symptoms; the giddiness, the shivering, increased action of the heart
Halt, Potts ! and reflect a bit ; are you describing love, or a tertian?
How will the biographer conduct himself here? Whether will he have to say,
"Potts resisted manfully this fatal attachment : had he yielded to the
seductions of this early passion, it is more than probable we should never have
seen him this, that, and t'other, nor would the world have been enriched
with—Heaven knows what ;" or shall he record, "Potts loved her, loved her as
only such a nature as his ever loves? He felt keenly all that, in a mere worldly
point of view, he must sacrifice; but it was exactly in that love and that
sacrifice was born the poet, the wondrous child of song, who has given s the
most glorious lyrics of our language. He had the manliness to share his fortune
with this poor girl. ' It was,' he tells us him-self, in one of those little
touching passages in his diary, which place him immeasurably above the mock
sentimentality of Jean-Jacques-se' it was on the road to Constance, of a bright
and breezy summer morning, that I told her of my love. We were walking along,
our arms around each other, as might two happy, guiltless children. I was very
young in what is called the world, but I had a boundless confidence in my-self:
my theory was, " If I be strengthened by the deep devotion of one loving heart,
I have no fears of failure." Beautiful words, and worthy of all memory ! And
then he goes on : 'I drew her gently over to a grassy bench on the roadside, and
taking my purse from my pocket, poured out before her its humble con-tents, in
all something less than twenty sovereigns, but to her eyes a very Pactolus of
"What if I were to try this experiment?" thought I ; " what if I were, so to
say, to anticipate my own biography?" The notion pleased me much. There was
something novel in it, too. It was making the experiment in the "corpore vile"
of accident, to see what might come of it.
"Come here, Catinka," said I, pointing to a moss-covered rock at the roadside,
with a little