Soldiers' record, 1868-09-12

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D e v o t e d t o t l t o I n t e r e s t s o r t H e S o l d i e r s n i i d S a l l o f s o f t l i e l a t e Wtii*.
VOL 1. HARTFORD, CONN., SEPTEMBER 12,1868. NO. 10.
onvij.
AT GETTYSBURG.
LIKU a furnace of fire\)la8cd the midsummer sun
Wlicn to snddlc we leaped at the order,
Spurred on by tlie boom of the deep thi\)atcd gun,
That told of the foe on our border.
A mist in our rear lay Antetiim's dark plain,
And thoughts of its carnage came o'er us;
But smiling before us surged fields of ripe grain,
And we swore none should reap it before us.
That night, with the ensign who rode by my side.
On the camp's dreary edge I stood picket,
Our cars intent, lest every wind-rustle should hide
A spy's stealthy tread in the thicket;
And, there, while we watched the first arrows of dawn
Through the vail of the rising mist's quiver,
He told how the foeman had closed in upon
His homo on the Tennessee llivcr.
He spoke of a sire in his weakness cut down,
With last breath the traitor flag scorning,—
(And his brow at the niem'ry grew dark with a frown
That paled the red light of the morning).
For days he had followed the cowardly band;
And when one lagged to forage or trifle.
Had scared in his forehead the deep Minio brand,
Aud scored a fresh notch in his rifle.
*'But one of the rangers had cheated his fate,—
For him he wonld scarch the world over."
Such cool-plotting passion, such keenness of hate.
Ne'er saw I in woman-scorned lover.
Oh, who would have thought that beneath those
dark curls
Lurked vengeance as sure as death-rattle !
Or fancied those dreamy eyes—soft as a girl's—
Could light with tlie fury of battle 1
To horse! pealed the bugle, while grape-shot and
shell
Overhead through the forest were crashing.
A Cheer for the flag! and the summer light fell
On the blades from a thousand sheaths flashing.
As mad ocean waves to the storm-revel flock.
So on we dashed, heedless of dangers ;
A moment our long line surged back at the shock,
Then swept through the ranks of the Rangers.
I looked for our ensign : ahead of his troop,
Pressing on through the conflict infernal.
His torn flag furled round him in festoon and loop,
He spurred to the side of his Colonel.
And his clear voice rang out, as I saw his bright
sword
Through shako and gaudy plume shiver,
With "this for the last of the murderous horde!"
And "tiiis for the home by the river!
At evening, returned from pursuit of the foe.
By a shell-shattered caisson we found him ;
And we buried hin» there in the sunset glow.
With the dear old flag knotted around him.
Yet how could we mourn, when every proud strain
Told of foemen hurled back in disorder;
When we knew that the North reaped hei rich har-vest
grain
Unharmed by a foe on the border !
Soldiers and Sailors Half Dime Tales.
A CLEBGYMAN'S STORY.
It is many years ngo, probably about
the date of your birtli, ray average reader,
that I learned what I am about to tell you.
At that time there stood on the northwest
coast of Ireland a building known as
Kyarlin Castle. The greater part of it
was very ancient; and the remainder had
been built not less than one hundred and
fifty years. I had commenced that pur-suit,
the tnste for which remains with me
to this day—namely the search after anti-quities
capable of throwing light on the
early history and customs ofour ancestors.
It happened, that while I was talking
with a man who had been collecting kelp
on the bcach, he pulled out a piece of
greenish-looking metal. To a man who
i-egarded it with an uneducated eye, there
was nothing in the appearance of it to
give it any value ; but I saw at once it
was an axe of the bronze period. Finding
be had picked it up on the shore, I spent
as much of ni}'time as I could spare for
some weeks afterward in making search
beneath the dills for other relics of a sim-ilar
kind. I was one day so absorbed in
studying the ai)i)earancc of certain stones
that lay on the beach, and which, for rea-sons
I will not go into now, I thought
were the remains of one of the most an-cient
of the Celtic edifices that have been
discovered, that I did not notice how high
the tide had risen, till it came washing
among the stones 1 was examining, 1
looked round quickly, and saw, with a
very uncomtbrtable seusation, that the sea
already reached the clill's I jiad passed.
To escape that way before the tide would
carry mo ofi" my legs, and beat me against
the rocks, was, I knew, impossible.
Hope lay in going onward and finding
an opening in the cliffs before the tide had
risen much higher. 1 stumbled along aa
fast as I could go, over the slippery sea-weed
; but the sea was surging and foam-ing
against the rocks so strongly that I
found it difficult to make any progress at
all. Looking ahead, I could see no sign
of a break in the cliffs, and 1 was about
to resign myself to death, when I arrived
opposite a cave which seemed to have
been worn by the waves during storms.
Looking into this little cave, I observed
that the line of sea-weed on the fragments
of rock indicated that during ordinary
tides it was not filled by the sea. To go
forward sceiued certain death, to remain
here gave at least a hope of escape.
Hastily deciding in favor of the cave, 1
entered, and to shield myself from the surf
as much as possible, immediately began
piling up the pieces of rock and sea-weed
so as to make as effectual a barrier as was
in my power between me and it. After
enduring a long period of painful suspense.
I saw with fervent thankfulness the set-ting
in of the ebb. I ^vas calculating the
chances of my being able to reach a certain
point in the clifts by which I might ascend
from the beach before it became dark,
when I was suddenly startled by hearing
a voice, which seemed to be at my elbow,
say : " Uere is another blanket for you.
It is more than you deserve ; but I will
not deny you any physical comfort I per-mit
myself to enjoy."
A weaker voioe, but also that of a
female replied : " Oh, my lady, let me but
see the blessed sunlight again, and I will
not care for clothes or food. Think of
the years I have suflered in this dark
place."
To which the first speaker auswered in
a passionate tone: "And what have your
sufferings been compared to mine 1 Have
I any hope of escape from mine, you
wretched woman ? Nay does not every
day that adds to my weakness increase
the pains I suffer, by making me feel more
acutely the want of sympathy of which I
have been deprived through you 1 "
The dull sound of a closing door, and a
low moaning which followed, was all that
I heard afterward. To find words which
could give you any idea of my utter as-tonishment,
is impossible. Though dark,
the cavity was so small at the upper end
that I could satisfy myself by feeling, al-most
without stirring from the spot
whereon 1 was seated, that there was'no
opening from it, and certainly that no
other person was present in it besides
myself. After much refiection, the truth
began to dasvn upon my mind ; the only
building along that part of the coast
which lay close to the edge of the clilf
was Kyarlin Castle, and that the voices
came Irom inmates of that building, I was
the more induced to believe by the words
" my lady, "which, though they did not
imply that the person addressed bore that
title, yet showed she was a person of some
distinclion. Of course, you think I at
once opened a conversation with the per-son
imprisoned ; but 1 did nothing of the
kind. At that time, every family of the
least influence living in the remoter parts
of Ireland had individuals hanging about
them capable of any act of violence on the
slightest intimation from any member of
the family, or even from a conlidential
servant, that it would be agreeable to
them. In my case, caution was especially
necessary, as I was the minister of the
small proportion of the inhabitants of the
surrounding district who professed Pro-testantisni,
and was therefore more than
usually obnoxious to those who adhered
to the creed I considered it my duty to do
my utmost to suj)plant. Moreover, I did
not know how far I might be acting
rightly in aiding the escape of the im-prisoned
woman. For the present, there-fore,
1 determined on doing nothing; and
crept as quietly as possible out of the
cavity, and walked home. The next day
I returned in the same direction : and
when I reached the castle, I .stooped
down, and pretended to pick up a stone,
which I threw down on the beaclf; but the
stone I threw down I had painted before
I left home, so that I should distinguish
it readily among those which lay on the
shore. From this place I walked slowly
on till I reached the cleft by which I had
ascended the previous evening, down
which I scrambled to the beach, and turned
back to the cave. Close to the entrance
I found the colored stone, which confirmed
my conjecture that the excavation ad-joined
an apartment in Kyarlin Castle.
I went in with as little noise as possible,
as it was now low water, and there was
no sound to drown any I might chance to
make. I listened, but all was silent. At
last I determined to risk a question ; and
putting my head close to the loose stones
at the spot from whence the voices seemed
to issue, I asked: " Is there any body shut
up in there
A loAv cry followed, and a woman said:
" Oh, do, for Heaven's sake, let me out!"
There was an expression of such eager
entreaty in the voice, that, joined to what
I hud heard the day before, decided me
on assisting her to escape, and thus giving
her a chance of appealing to the law for
protection, or, on the other hand, of com-pelling
those who had imprisoned her
here to continue her punishment in a legal
manner, if there were any just ground for
inflicting it. After a few more questions,
told her I would come back at the ebb
of the tide that evening and release her.
The operation was not a diflicult one.
The removal of some loose stones made
an opening into a cell on a level witii the
beach, and through this I dragged her.
The night was dark enough to make walk-ing
along the shore diflicult; but it screen-ed
us from observation, if any one hap-pened
to be abroad in the neighborhood
of the road we were obliged to follow to
get to my cottage, which was the only
place to which I could take her. Here I
gave her in charge to Esther, the old
woman who waited upon me. I followed
them into the kitchen ; but though there
was no light there beyond that given by a
tallow-candle and the turf-fire, the stranger
covered her eyes with her hands, from in-ability
to endure the pain it caused. She
was a woman in appearance about forty
years of age, with a complexion so in-tensely
white, that I was reminded of
Lot's wife after her conversion into salt.
I asked no questions that evening, and
what I subsequently learned from her was
confirmed by Mrs.' Meyrick of Kyarlin
Castle, upon whom I considered it my
duty to call with the aim of inducing her
t^) make some provision for the poor vic-tim
of her passion. From other sources
too, and at diflerent periods, I heard other
matters relating to the case, which enables
me to give the following narrative in a
connected form:
Catherine Mostyn was the daughter of
a man who had succeeded to a largo but
encumbered estate, and by a continuance
of the same careless extravagance which
he had been accustomed to see from his
youth upward, he had, by the time his
daughter had completed her seventeenth
year, reduced himself to a condition in
which he was scarcely any thing better
than the steward of the estate nominally
his own. Just about this time, Henry
Meyrick returned from St. Omer, where
he had been for several years living w^ith
a priest who had been his instructor
from his youth. His age was then twenty-two,
and having neither father nor mother,
it was supposed that he would not long
remain at Kyarlin Castle, especially as
the man who had been appointed by the
executors to manage the estate attached
to it had proved himself both honest and
able. Shortly after his return to Ireland,
Mostyn, as one of his nearest neighbors,
and who had known him before he had
been sent to Franco, called on him, and
invited him to his house ; here, of course.
he became acquainted with Kate Mostyn.
She was remarkable for her exceeding
loveliness, which was almost equaled by
her pride, and the cold severity, almost
sternness of her manner. Much of this
latter may have been engendered by pov-erty,
acting on a naturally proud and
haughty character, and the continual
discontent arising out of a comparison of
her actual condition with what it might
have been. Henry Meyrick soon became
so deeply attached to her, that nobody
was surprised when it was announced
that the day had been fixed for their mar-riage.
When this event took place, they
went abroad for a few months, Mrs. Mey-rick
having never been out of Ireland
previously. They had not long returned
to Kyarlin Castle, befbre it was a matter
of common talk that he saw only with
her eyes. Childishly fond as Mr. Mey-rick
was of his w^fe and submissive as this
led him to be to all her whims and fancies,
he was not altogether without firmness of
character in his dealings with men ; and
if he had remained a free man three or
four years after his separation from bis
tutor, instead of falling in love immedi-»
ately, and marrying shortly afterw^ard, he
mi^ht have acquired experience, which
would have prevented the occurence of
the evils which wrecked his own and his
wife's happiness, aud cruelly injured one
I firmly believe to have been an innocent
victim.
Mrs. Meyrick was devotedly attached
to her husband, but she was exacting in
the extreme in the testimonies of his af-fection,
and jealous of every woman to
whom he paid the slightest attention.
Her attendant was about the same age as
herself, an Englishwoman she had en-gaged
in London on her way to the con-tinent.
This girl being of lively and en-gaging
manners, and very pretty, w^as a
great favorite with her mistress, and for
this reason probably was treated by her
master with a degree of familiarity not
very surprising, considering their youth,
and the extent to which circumstances
had compelled all three of them to associ-ate
during their journey to the continent.
Intimaces of such a kind are always dan-gerous,
even if only from misconstruction ;
and it was exemplified in this instance.
Mrs. Meyrick had sent her maid to her
husband's study for a book.she wanted ;
but directly after the girl had left her
room, she changed her mind, and decided
on i-eading some other. Going to the
study, she opened the door, and was about
to enter. Meyrick was there and the
girl ; but what it was which made Cath-erine
close the door again, and turn away
with a face so deadly pale, she never told
anybody, I believe, unless it might have
been her spiritual adviser. She Avent
back to her room, and locked herself in,,
and when her husband came to her, shO'
would neither open it nor answer him.
Finding she remained obstinately silent,
he left the castle, and did not return that
night, perhaps thinking he would thus
bring her to her reason. It strongly fa-vors
the opinion that Mrs. Meyrick was
hasty in her conclusions, since her maid
did not show any reluctance to go to her
mistress when she rang her bell, who
however, refused to allow her to enter the
room, aud rang again for another servant.
That night, Jane Wilmot, her maid, dis-ajjpeared.
'1 he day was still young when Henry
Meyi-ick returned to the castle, after a
night spent on the sea-shore He was
almost as white as his wife was when she
turned-away from his study-dooi- the pi e-vious
day. Walking wearily along the
passage leading to this room, he told the
man who followed him to bring him some
coflee ; and throwing his hat into one cor-ner,
he was about to sit down to his
writing-table, when he saw lying on it a
letter, or rather a small packet, addressed
to himself in his wife's handwriting.
Hastily opening it, he saw, not an ofler of