THE
VOLUME EL
THE FREE SOUTH.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
AT
lATNBT, SOUTH CAROLINA.
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JMMt O* f|i>ni? Eilttr.
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Having Je* received a large assortment of new type.
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fee OFFICIAL BLANKS, of every description. Also
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r v? the shortest aetlee.
SfTeaber E Iff hi!
No day of all tbe yean gone by
Race Booth Carolina was a State,
Has horns each record to the sky
Aa this, mad* op November eight!
The record of a tbooaaad names,
Inscribed en freedom's master-roll;
As lftbahmg ooo teeled claims
Of mm to Ufa sad tight, and soot.
Tha ownership of aslf complete,
Hod beep Eooessdai, aad a race
With bands fhe> boond, and fettered fret,
Bed hand at last He boor of grace.
AM bolt tkooday! wbeo whips and stocks
And mch grim rates of the pest
An biddso by tha boDot-box,
Whsrt Freedmsui onbooght votaa ancsst.
fVowdday! end most aaspidoQs set!
* H seels that other glorioas deed.
The ptorlsumtfoo of a feci.
IWopgh which o mattitude are freed.
(banderol when the belle of time.
ftMlovtMehMichtyqrapbocfa*
Ami with ma iiwgj Nbdae
IV ftoptot lOTcnifs totot roplisa
.. h. a j.
CONTRACTED.
If
lime has jet long jeers in store for
me, I shell crash the flowers of menj
springs beneeth xnj feet, before the impressions
made bj two grand spectacles
which I have witnessed, shall be erased
from memory.
It is e storj of two pictures I have
looked on that I am about to tell, and
tbej both appear so plainlj before me as
I write that I alternately thrill with awe,
and tremble with excitement, gazing first
on the one, then on the other.
Five years, and as many months ago, I
% At ? i LI.L - - .
ioo&ea on tat) ant?jomn wuiuu booiu mi
have glided away as swift as a passing
shadow. Years in which are blended the
glad, wild notes of the march of joy, and
the sad, sad strains of sorrow's dirge;
yean which memory loves, and yet ofttimes
dreads to linger over?adown whose
vista I can look and see troop past the
ghosts -of days which have been, when
happiness and mirth and I linked arms
together, and tripped along the fields of
pleasure?and here and there I catch
glimpses of gardens of roses, dotted with
mart&e fauns and fairies, shadowy in
cool grots?and then I listen?and caich?
the soft tinkling notes of a merry girl's
laughter, clear and bright as the silvery
gosh of a crystal fountain ! How sweet
is the dream! Anon, my steps beat time
to the weary march of sorrow, and with a
sad heart I wander in the avenues of the
Past, and count the marble n^onuments
of Mends flecking the green hills?and
fragments of songs that nobody sings
float by me, and parts of a mother's
?war*.
The echoes of voices hushed long ago,
coming book to me from the shadow-land
dps*, cause me to feel like a wearied
child to-night, and I could sit me down
and weep, and with the tears I would
sited the hand of the Recording Angel
could, metbinks, blot seme sins from the
?ji - /
*
: FRE
BEAUFORT, SOUTH CAROI
page reserved for me! Ah! memory,
what poignant pangs thou canst inflict?
what sonny hours thou canst recall!
I T> 1 W i i_
urn; l muni to my. story.
A little over five years ago I found myself
at the Island of St Helena. It was
a beautiful night in May. Our ship had
touched here to procure water, and its
worthy, but unromantio skipper, decided
that it was advisable to remain but two
or three hours for the purpose of filling
our tanks.
There was no conveyance to take me to
Napoleon's old grave, and as the distance
thither was six miles or more from our
landing point, it was an impossibility to
walk it and return in season to leave with
my ship. So, in despair and sullen grief,
I abandoned my long contemplated visit
to the spot where they laid him, and
where now the willow bends weeping,
and the Acacia keeps lonely vigil. We
wandered through the principal street of
the island town, and left the shore just as
the setting sun threw his last rays on
island and ocean?beautiful and changing
as are the hues of the dying dolphin
in his last agonies?or like the last ling nncrWja
nf the Rwtn. the sweetest in
| death. The water was like the neck of a
do ve,. changing with purple and gold.
The ship was lying lazily at anchor some
distanoe off, and it gave us a long poll to
reach her. The evening was sultry, bnt
soon the start came out, and we forgot
the oppressive heat in contemplating the i
charms nature had woven around us. I j
j sat watching that grand old rock, which
' had been made so famous?wrapped up
in ihe gloom of its own solitude, and in
whose long shadows we were lying, with
mingled foelings of admiration and awe,
it looked so black and threatening?a
dense, dark mass.
Deep silence reigned over alL The
murmuring lips of Old Ocean were sealed
by the hand of sleep, and scarce a sound
issued from the fleet that had nestled
under the island's lee. At long intervals
we could catch the driD of the suspended
i oar of some water loiterer, or the oomi
plaining murmur of the surf would appeal
to our sympathies as it told its story to
the smooth pebbles ou the beaoh, or
dashed against the rooks adown whose
maimed and patient faces tears trickle
forever. How beautiful the water looked,
with the stars lingering like floating
jewels on its bosom, mirrored as clear as
in a glass. Soon great heavy clouds-came
out and hung over the brow of the island,
as if they had some dark sorrow to release
there, or were about to pour thereon
a dreadful vengeance--and then, I
thought, the charm was to be dispelled,
and instead of being gladdened by a
spectacle of grandeur and beauty, we
were to be fretted by a storm. But lo ! a
change! The moon, the weloome moon,
came out, and won her slow way with
.milo nn a fV,<? VOW tJ\oA fit
wauif on W/y ouiuei u|/ w w>u >v?j v.
those black clouds, and then the picture
he painted was beautiful beyond description
! She tipped them with a silver
edge, she tipped the top of the rock
island too with her silver wand, and as
he gathered her radiance about her, and
marched in triumph higher, still higher,
on the dappled vault, like a queen followed
by her glittering train?she chased
away those clustering clouds which seemed
like a black sorrow brooding there, and
bathed island, and sea and ships with
such a sweet and gentle light, and so
soothing was the influence, that it seemed
as if some Bright Being of a Better World
were folding her dazzling wings around
us. And now, how changed was the
oene! The loae island, that had looked
so grim and fierce, seemed graven
E SOI
iINA, NOVEMBER 19, 1864.
in silver, and the silent sea and the
slumbering fleet were alike lit up by the
tremulous glow. How grand, how sub
lime the spectacle f
I could fancy anything that night My
mind seemed a sea of music, whereon
floated golden imaginings, brilliant and
beautiful. Distant voices took love's
tones, and a song borne away on the night
breeze, seemed the strains of a lover's
lute beneath his lady's balcony, as she
leaned out beauteous and bright?as
Juliet to Borneo?making night day, and
threw him the rose!
Wrapped in admiration, 1 feared to
breathe lest I should break the spell!
And ther fancy took wing, and
the music of a thought swept over me.
There arose before me visions of the
splendor of the Conqueror who once
pined away his life on that bleak rook,
and who, like the fettered eagle, beat
against the bars of his prison house until
nature exhausted itself, and wearied with
taunts and tyrants, he sought his chamber
to lie down and die. And the tramp
of armies, the surge and crash of battle
?the fatal charge of the old guard, the
hand to hand encounter, the stirring
strains of martial music, the waring aloft
of battered eagles and tattered pennons,
the shriek of the wounded, and then the
grand shout of victory?ovtrtoh^minglg
grand, all these I saw, and heard and
powdered at t-z-And then methought I
wandered away over the ssa till I came
and stood at the bedside of the dying
Emperor on this barren isle, The same
flash was in his eye that had kindled there
on so many fields of battle?and I saw his
lips move, and I listened, and eaught the
words, "fete<farnue!" the last hearer
uttered, and with them the soul of earth's
greatest went out into the night 1?A
strain of mournful music swept past I
saw the long fountain drip of funeral
plumes, and the sad procession more on
its winding way among the hills to the
lonely grave where they laid him. Isaw
it all. I witnessed the end of the
tragedy! Fancy had woven a spell about
me I dreaded to sever. I was chained to
the spot by a species of fascination I
could not cast off, and lingered long,
drinking in the beauty of the soene?and
when at last a fair wind sprang up, and
we spread our wings for another flight,
and steered away from the island, the
silver tin tings of the bright May-moon
glistening on our white sails as they were
flung out to the breeze, making us look
I like a phantom thing, I heaved a deep,
deep sigh, [and wondered should I ever
look on a spectacle so grand, so peculiarly
impressive, so sublime again ! It was
a spectacle sublime in Peace?in grandeur
?in suggestions t It gave birth to lofty
imaginings I
Sinoe then I have witnereed another?
how different it was, and yet it was grand,
i a ?..n_ vii t I).., x.
impressive, lcnxiunj ouuuuio i sut nera
the Genius of Strife spread his wings, and
the skeleton hand was busy beckoning
souls into the dread, dark Night. There
the Angel of Peaoe horered silently t
How eloquent the contrast!
It was the spectacle of moral grandeur
and physioal majesty on which the sun
rose on the memorable 24th of- April,
1802?the passage of the naval fleet under
the command of the intrepid Farrsgut
beyond Forts "Jaokson" and 41 St.
Philip,'* those " lions in the way," which
guarded the enframes to the Creeoent
City.
There was nothing Inching to give picturesque
effect and dramatic interest to
the sight of the floating guardians of our
country's honor in the weird hour of
dawn, sailing majestically into the very
/
/
JTH.
NUMBER 41.
jaw* of death. How awful the quiet
which reigned before the signal lights
were hung out by ship after ship, which
was to be the moment for the start And
like tmhooded falcons, we sprang at the
quarry 1 And then the murderous contents
of two hundred iron throats
belched forth at us, and the iron rams of
the enemy waited behind sunken obstructions
for our onset?watching like hungry
wolves ior tne approach of prey I And
in oolamn on, onward we dashed into the
midst of them, tearing and crashing,
overwhelming and crashing! And many
a brave heart was then stilled forever,?
fighting for the old flag they had never
deserted?fear was unknown to them?
nobly they fell!
And the whistling shell with its hideous
screech, and the solid oonical shot, swept
over and around ns as thick as the hail
the heavens hurl earthwards?telling tales
of homes made desolate, and the weepings
and wailings of broken hearts.
There was no soothing melody to attune
the senses. Here devildom was dominant
; only harsh, disoordaat noises fell
upon the ear, and, men who stood shoulder
to shoulder were oompelled to seream
to make themselves heard! The hand of
God had shut the eyes of stars, and
veiled the vision from the faoe of ths
moon 1
It was a fierce and sanguinary spectacle.
Its grandeur was towering high?it
was overwhelming t Those who witnessed
it, will never, I am sure, forget it,
e'en should the Reaper suffer them to
pass the allotted three score years and
ten. The fight was over and the victory
won! After As battle /?the Demon of
TWtrnfltinn wfaJ fcmm Ulw?.
the maimed and the dying were thought
of. Shot and shell right well had done
their hideous work. And not oalyou
the decks of the war ships, but in the
houses and homes when mothers and
sisters dwelt. By the hearthstone where
the wearied wife watehea day after day
for the return of the loved one! When
he fell by the side of his gun, the shaft
winged ita way to a fond mother's heart,
as she waited and prayed for the boy who
will never come back again !
I looked that day on scenes whieh
made me shudder, and I shudder now
when I revert to them, and others whieh
11 have witnessed the Destroyer paint on
i battle-fields, surrounded by not half the
' Km* W.1V.J ?1
giauueut una uwuw U1 UtflGQ UW HOW
of blood! Ah 1 there ere wounds of the
spirit end the heert thet we reck not
of! Mother-love?wife-love?sister lore!
Think ye whet wounds ere theirs 7 Those
gentle mothers who were piotoriel bibles
to the childhood of their sons, think 70
their heerts shed no teers for the slein 7
And jet sorrow's urn is filling?filling--J
still filling with the teers of these broken
heerts! The picture is repulsive end
aed. Drew the veil over such herrowing
sorrow. Their grief is holy now!
Side by side, place the two pictures I
heve drawn. On the one, smiles the
Angel of Peace, end the lend end the see
ere wondroualy beautiful I Over the
other, broods the Death-dealing demon of
Civil War, and the frowns of God darken
lU. i. I i-J A i.1
uo watuB i ouu nouw utuwr uuia uui l
heyc looked on?when the jell* of the
blood-stained combatants?father scraped
against son, brother in league agaiaet
brother?were akin to the shrieks
of madmen?when I wondered if the
terried rank* of devilt at they troop through
Hell, made horrors more hadeoos in theh
[ blackest nights i
Contrast the picture* I Do they bear a
comparison ?
And yet this/rivil strife with eQ its re