Soldiers' record, 1871-02-04

              ONE FLAG, ONE LAND, ONE HEAEl, ONE RAND, ONE NATION, EVERMORE I
V O L . H E . N O . 30.] H A . R T i r O l l J ) , O O N N . , S A T U B D i A Y , F E B R U A R Y 4, 1 8 7 1 . [$2. a Y e a r ; S i n g l e , 5 O t s.
i o i i v 5 at i o m c.
WOMAN ON THE BATTLR-FFELD.
TO \ HKKOINK OK THE WAR.
Hiul, hsraine of tlie battle-field !
Swroet angel of ii zeal divine!
Hail, maiden, wliese device and sbiwld,
Scnlptured in tears and prayers, will shine
On Love's eternal cohiinn reared
In memory of the martyred dead,
To be. thronjrli coming time, revered,
And sacred to the pilgrim's tread!
'Hail, danntless maid ! whose sbaidowy form,
Borne like a sunbeam on the air, , ,
Swept by amid the battle-storm.
Cheering the hfelpless snffecers there,
Amid the cannon's smoke and flame.
The earthquake roar of shot and shell.
Winning, by deeds of love, a name
Immortal as the bravo who fell.
Hail, an}j;ol! whose diviner spell
Charmed dying heroes with her prayer,
stanching thoir Wounds amid the knell
Of death, destruction, and despair.
Thy name by memory shall bo wreathed
JEonnd many desolate hearts In prtiyer,
orphan lips it shall be breathf d.
And float in songs upon the air.
And History's pages shall embalm
The heroine's deeds in lines of iire ;
Her life shall i)rove a hallowed charm,
And every loyal heart inspire.
Press on, press on ! in glory move!
Unfading laurels shall be thine
To gom the victor-crown of Love,
And sparkle in the realms divine!
lUELLE ALDEN'S TRAVELING BAG-turned
bt'witohiupily towards the tall
A ti'afln t)o.Hud for St. Louis had just
left the depot of Bellefontaine, when a
-gentleman eateied the smoking car, and
laid his hand upon the shoulder of his
traveling); companion—a tall, handsome
man of thirty, . ^ o sat^ musingly bio wing
riyfis ..of . .
''iVlarcy," 's^i.di^e new comer, "ifyou
want to 8ee at onee the sweetest and sad-dest
sight you ever beheld, go into the
•last car but one on the train. There's an
-emigrant German woman with four little
children, and during the afternoon f he
youngest, a baby, has died. The mother
and or her children are inconsolable."
can understand," interrupted tlie
smoker, "the sadness of such a scene, but
where is the sweetest you speak of'{"
"I'm coming to that. The whole party-has
been taicen in charge by a young lady.
Such a iieauty ! She's dried the mother's
tears, und wiped ihe children's iioae5>^
She's a divinity ! Shf only needs a few
feathers on her shoulder blades to make
a full Hedged angel of her. If! was not
a mnrried man I'd nev'M- leave her until
I h^d n»ade Mrs. Angelica Townsend out
ofhor!"
"That's a speech which I shall faithful-ly
report to Mrs. Agnes Townsend," said
the gentleman addressed as Marcy, rising.
"I shall go back and feast my eyes on
this beautiful sister of charity ; and," ho
added, taking his traveling satchel and
shawl from the rack, "as we stop at the
next station, which is due in ten minutes,
1 may as well take my traps through
with me and join you on the platform."
Thus saying, Richard Marcy threw his
shawl over his shoulder, and sauntered
leisurely through the long train—rushing
blindly to his fate. For, as ho wntered
the last car but one, he became witness
and an actor in a scene that influenced his
whole luture life.
,Tho poor grief-stricken German womun,
of whom his companion, Dr Townsend,
had spoken, with the dead infant in her
arms, sat silently weeping over the Utile
d«ad face.
The tiiree sturdy children, grouped in
childish sorrow about their little brother,
was indeed a touching spectacle. But,
standing beside them, was the divinity of
Dr. Townsend's admiration, and she who
was most certainly to "share ends" of the
unhappy Richard.
She was a tall slender girl of iaighteen,
with magnificent eyes and hair. As ho
entered the car she was speaking, her
lovely face Hushed, and the small, rosy
month, disclosing a beautiful sot of teeth.
stranger at the door.
Ladies, and gentlemen," spokei the
sweet voice, 'Hhis poor woman, friendless
and penniless, speaking no English, with
four little children, was expecting to find
work in St. Louis to support ihem. li
everything had gone well with her it
would have been hard for her ; but with
her little dead bnby and her sorrowful
heart, she is certainly a deserving object
of charily ; and I propose that such as
/^el willing, contribute their mite towards
a little purse for her immediate wants
and the burial of her poor baby. And,"
she added, with a bewitching smile, "if
any gentleman will lend me a hat, I will
go round and take up a collection."
In an instant the gallant Richard pull-ed
his traveling c ip from his blonde curls
and offered it to the Angel of Mercy, who
accepted it with a smile, this time all his
own, and commenced gathering the readi-ly
forthcoming dollars her .generous,
graceful appeal brought from the purses
of,all in the car.
Richard watched the slender figure in
gray, gathering the money ; and looking
at the pbid cap in the white, jewelled
fingers, .he bethought him of his own do-nation,
and stepping to the seat the beau-ty
had just occupied, he laid his satchel
and shawl upon a family of its kind, be-longing
to the, angel in gray, and took
from his pocket a ten dollar bill which he
placed in the little hst.nd that returned
him his cap. Fu^heiir damage the poor
fellow received, wue® a second smile and
warmly worded thanks: for his liberal con-tribution
were dealt him from y i e beaiuti*
ftii-mouthv^ ( • / I
Dick was in the midst of an elabor-ate
reply, when the oars stopped. He
lingered yet another moment, seized his
satchel and shawl with his eyes still on
the face of his charmer, and then, even
as the cars were again in motion, he be
thought himself of the doctor, and hurri-edly
l<ift the car andjoici'd his friend on
the platform.
"Well," ejaculated that worthy, "I be-gan
to believe you'd concluded to go and
bury the dead baby and mnke the protec-ting
beauty Mrs. Angelica Mai'cy. Isn't
she a stunner ?"
"Townsend," returned his friend,
'don't use slang in speaking of the noble
creature."
He looked after the train just disap-pearing
in the distance. 'I wish to heav-en,'
he continued, 'I'd remained on board,
[low stupid I was to leave. I might
have learned her name and residence.
And now—'
'Now, in all probability,' broke in the
doctor, 'you'll never meet her in this vale
oftears. But you'll know her in heaven,
if you behave yourself well enough to get
there, by her wings ; she'll have the big-gest
of any of them, seeing they've com-menced
to sprout on eartti.'
And thus rallying his thoroughly cap-tivated
lri(.'nd,the two made tiieir way to
tiie house of an acquaintance, with whom
they were to remniii that night, and go on
the next tlay to their dostiiiaiion—St.
Louis. ^
Afier the first salutation, our hero
went 10 his room, to remove some of the
evi'lonces of his long ride from New York,
lie hfxl removed his coat, vest and collar;
he had splashed and soaped and washed,
till his damp curls clung close to his
shapely head, when he made a startling
discovery.
Flushed and breathless he burst into
the next room, upon his friend.
'Townsend,' cried he, 'what upon earth
do you suppose ? I've got the wrong bag.
I've changed bug<rage with the Angel of
Mercy. Look at that slipper See that
ihiml»le. Contemplate that glove.
•li's evident you've got the lady's satch'
el. And what was thero in your own V
'Don't bring up that dreadful idea,'
said Dick. 'Cigars !ii>.d a hnir brush, a
paclc of cards and a comb, pocket flask
and p, tooth brush—everything disreput
able.; HI am judged by that bag, I'm a
loptlnun'
'And this I look for a clean shirt,' and
Diclf held up a frilled and fluted sack,
' uclfas do duty lor more extensive night
with ladies when travelling. 'Fa
lik^^'see Angelica when she opens my
srttdiel.' -
Ii
mai
day'
aci^t^
pett|
sat
conl
tablj
cepti
T!
side!
Dick fell to musing, with the slip-jferched
on two fingers, and the fril-
Rite sack spread out tenderly upon
* * * . ft •
Upper apartment of a handsome
jn in St, Louis, on the evening of the
K heroine first made the reader's
itance, beautiful Belle Alden, the
l and only daughter of rue house,
|templating the various articles her
Ijitial maid was disposing upon the
larticles taken from no less a re-than
Dick Marcy's traveling biig.
; cards and cigar case lay side by
|nd a highly scented party they
the handsome head sprang up beside the
lock ; and she would sit and c(mtemplate
the picture her fancy wrought for her,
little dreaming the interest sfie was al-lowing
to grow in her bosom for Jenny's
brother.
In the fall. Belle and her father went
to New York, and the first day after her
arrival, found her sitting with her old
triend, who, after the first effusive meet-ing
waij'pa.'if , sat down to empty her soul,
'I'm so glad you are here (jhis mohtU,'
Jenny said, 'because I'm to bo married in'
October, and 1 have been cra/.y to have
you for a bridesmaid, and Dick is to be
Harry's best man,'
were;
'WlatiS inthe little silver flask, Rosa ?'
said the- fair mistress.
'Branidy, ma'm,' replied the maid.
'He cannot be very dissipated, to trav-el
with such a little bottle That is in
case, "/f sickness, "I suppose,' returued
Belle.
'It's ply belief, said Rosa, who was a
shrow^d giri, 'that the gentlema.i was a
mighty nice one, else you would not so
read.ifeexcuse the cards and the bottle.
•, '^'('-^tbaine, -,!^^ All gsentlemen play;:
^ ^ P^®? clergymen;
Ant^Ufiis gentleman was a gentleman, and
a liberal one, too, for he gave the poor
emigi-Hut woman ten dollars. What is
thiit, Rosa?'
For, at that moment, Rosa held be-tween
her fingers a letter.
Whether it was wrong to read a stran-ger's
letter vexed Belle for a moment, ^s
lier eyes glanced at the supej-scrij)tion
and handwriting.
'Why, of all chiiigs !' exclaimed the de-lighted
girl, seizing the letter. 'Why
Rosa, this is Jenny Marcy's writing, and
addressed to Richard Marcy, her only
darling brother, who was in Europe when
we two were graduated at Madam Ritter's
in Brooklyn.
Belle read rapidly until she icached
the middle of the letter, when she burst
into a merry laugh.
'Hear this, Rosa,' she said,
read from the letter :
Above all things, Dick, dear, don't fail.
Belle blushed.
'But Dick has fall(ifi hopelessly, madly
in love !'
B<4le turned pale.
'Yes, 1 was so dreadfully provoked
when he passed through St, Louis, and
never went near you. But he went wild
over some lady he met on that fatal trip.'
He will talk by the hours of his Angel-ica.
And when I have spoken ot you he
has been positively rude, and asked me
to have done bothering him about my
freckled school friends—you know your
picture shows freckle.s ; but bless me, you
haven't, any now ! And your picture
don't look any more like you than it does
like me, not a bit.'
'But, tell me,' said Belle, 'is your broth-er
engaged to this lady T
'Engaged ! Why, dear heart, he don't"
know her name. He just found some of
her old clothes somewhere. He's got her
old slippers under a glass case ; he's got
her glo\tes, stufied under another j.he's
^oit aar rtefc?^^^^^^ u^iraveri^er^
ne's g o t t o g^d thimWe hung on f
watch chain, and I do believe he's, got a
hair brush and some hair pins next to his
heart. Oh ! its folly to interfere ! He's
beyond all hope ! I did think the excite-ment
of my wedding would wean him
from it; but not a bit. * He looks at my
new things as calmly as an oyster, and
only said—ifs not kind of you to repeat
it, though,' broke off Jenny,
'What was it he said T inquired Belle,
laughing now heartily. 'Don't lear for
my feelings.' Dori't fear for my feelings.'
'Why,' he sai J, 'I'll stand up with your
friend. Belle, and see-you safely married;
and then I'm off to vciiiter in Paris. I'm
done with love on my own account. It's .
positively awful."
And so Belle thought, as she looked
i at her old slipper and glove lying boneaih
and she | u globe on either side thn faithful Rich-
; aril's mautly.
•And,' said Belle, 'since he desires only
V,
while in St. Louis, to see my best friend to meet me on the inorniugortho wedding
and schoolmate, Belle Alden. I know you
will lall in love with her, for, besides be*
ing the best girl in the world she's a
beauty and an lieiress, and father's choice,
above all others for his son's wife. He j
used to talk it over at home, and hope
dear Belle would not marry l)ofore you
so it shail be. I will be intioduced only
as we are leaving the house, arid he can
do as he pleases al»ont continuing the
acquaintance afterwards.
Belle was radiai\t with happiness when
s|ie returned to her lather, and delighted
his fond heart l)y the change, for Belle
came home from Europe. She is full as | had been very qviiet of late,
anxious to know you, and wears your hair ' Jetmy and Belle shopped and t ilked
anfi mine in a locket father gave to her and visiterl together for the next few
last year. Give her lots of love and beg days, and when the eventful morning ar-of
her to overlook your many imperfec- ' "
tions, for the sake of her old schoolfellow,
Jenny.'
''Allien this gentleman is, of course.
Miss Jenny's brother,' said Rosa, "and
what will slui say when she hears of our
having met in this romantic manner ?'
'1 don't intend to tell her of it till I go
to New Yoik this fall Perhaps her broth-er
will call,' said Belle.
But in this supposition Belle was wrong
The month passed, and she saw no more
of the golden-headed Richard
rived, a»id amid a bevy of beautiful girls,
Belle shone like a queen, the bride was
eclipsed.
• '0, Belle !' she said ; 'I long to have
old stoical Dick see you—Mark ! there's
his step. Come into the next room, and
be introduced. Don't wait till the car-riages
come—it's an hour yet.'
Arid Belle, with a boating heart, swept
through the door and stood oven as Dick
first saw her, only, in place of the gray
travelling dress, a magnificant white satin
i fell in rich folds about her, and upon her
And she carefully separated the yellow .lovely white throat lay the turquois lock-lock
in the liitle keepsake from the dark i ot that held Dick's golden curl. Upon
tress of Jenny's and put it back into its ! the beautiful head, crowned by its chest-place
alone, while another locket held the ' rut hair, a coronet uf pearls added to the
bit of Jenny's. And, somehow. Belle ' grace and beauty of an image that, shria-looked
very, very often at the wee golden ed in Dick's heart, was already an angel,
cuil, and she never did so but the rest of Belle did not look up, but she felt the