1=4 m\m\\\\\M\' WERNER'S RECITATION? No. 10 AMERICA'S RECITATION ROOK . . . EDGAR S WERNER i NE»W YORK j £1 IMF Published by EDGAR S, WERNER & GO. NEW YORK Copyright. 1892. by Edgar S. Werner. I n ,t RIDDLE FRANCES AYMAR MATHEWS'S COflEDIES 20 cents each " ALL FOR SWEET CHARITY." 3m.,9f.; 35 min. Theater- stage scene. AMERICAN HEARTS. 2m., 8 f.; 25 min. Drawing-room scene. APARTHENT. 4 m., 2 f.; 28 min. Flat-apartment scene. Irish dialect introduced. AT THE GRAND CENTRAL. 2 f.; 25 min. Railroad-station scene. BOTH SIDES OF THE COUNTER. 1 m , 2 f., and several men supes; 28 min. Store scene. CHARMING CONVERSATIONALIST. 1 m, 2f.; 15 min. Ball- room scene. COURIER. 2 m., 3 f.; 30 min. Hotel private-parlor scene. EN VOYAGE. 2 m , 2 f.; 25 min. Ship-deck scene. FINISHED COQUETTE. 5 m., 5 f. ; 45 min. Country-house re- ception-room scene. French, Italian, and German dialects introduced. HONEYMOON: FOURTH QUARTER. 2 m., 2 f.; 26 min. Apart- ment drawing-room scene. KNIGHT OF THE QUILL. 3 m., 1 f.; 25 min. Sitting-room scene. Italian dialect introduced. ON THE STAIRCASE. 1 m., 1 f.; 21 min. Hall-staircase scene. PAYING THE PIPER. 1 m., 6f.; 26 min. City drawing-room scene. PROPOSAL. 1 in., 2 f.; 25 min. Drawing-room scene. SCAPEGRACE. 1 m., 6 f. ; 35 min. Newport drawing-room scene. French dialect introduced. SNOW-BOUND. 2 m.. 2 f.; 40 min. Country hotel parlor scene. TEACUPS. 3 m., 2 f., and supes; 25 min. Drawing-room scene. Theosoi hie farce. TITLE ANL MONEY. 2 m., 2 f.; 26 min. Ball-room corner WAR TO THL KNIFE. 2m,2f.; 26 min. Country-house re- ception-room scene. WEDDING-TOUR. 5 m., 4 f.; 28 min. Parlor-car and station waiting-room scenes. WOHAN'S FOREVER. 1 m., 1 f.; 15 min. Hotel private- parlor scene. Full descriptive contents of any play sent on request Address the Publishers EDGAR S. WERNER & CO. 43-45 East 19th Street, N. Y. l ^ . WERNER'S READINGS UNO RECITATIONS No. 10 AMERICA'S RECITATION BOOK COMPILED AND ARRANGED BY CAROLINE B. Le ROW ^s^f X3 L ft> EDGAR S. WERNER & COMPANY NEW YORK Copyright, 1892, by Edgar S. Werner NOTE. "AMERICA'S RECITATION BOOK," KNOWN ALSO AS "WERNER'S READINGS AND RECI- TATIONS NO. 10," PRESENTS THE BEST PRO- DUCTIONS IN PROSE AND VERSE ON GREAT EVENTS IN THE HISTORY OF OUR COUNTRY DOWN TO THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR. THESE SELECTIONS ARE ARRANGED IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER, AND ARE ACCOM- PANIED WITH EXPLANATIONS THAT IN- CREASE THEIR INTEREST AND VALUE. AMERICAN AUTHORS ONLY ARE REPRE- SENTED; AND, AS NEARLY ALL OF THEM ARE OF WORLD-WIDE REPUTATION, THE SELECTIONS FORM NOT ONLY MATERIAL FOR THE STUDY OF ORATORY, BUT OF THE BEST ENGLISH LITERATURE. THIS BOOK WILL STIMULATE THE STUDY OF AMERICAN BIOGRAPHY AND HISTORY. AS AN AID TO THIS END, CERTAIN ERAS IN THE SOCIAL, POLITICAL, OR MILITARY EX- PERIENCES OF THE COUNTRY CAN BE SELECTED FOR THE PURPOSE, PROGRAMS ARRANGED, AND AS MUCH ADDITIONAL MATERIAL SUPPLIED UPON THE SAME TOPICS AS TIME ALLOWS, AND THE RE- SOURCES OF TEACHER AND PUPILS PERMIT. Werner's Headings No. 10 — page 3!. CONTENTS. PAGE America. — William Cullen Bryant 237 America to Great Britain. — Washington Allston 133 American Flag, The. — Henry Ward Beecher 245[ \ * Battle Above the Clouds, The.— Theron Brown 206 Battle of Lookout Mountain, The. — George H. Boker 200 Battle of the Cowpens, The. — Thomas Dunn English 124 Battle of Tippecanoe, The 149 Battle Poem, A.— Benjamin F. Taylor 230 Bay Fight, The.— Henry H. Brownell 215 Bell of Liberty, The— J. T. Headley 103 Bethel.— A. J. H. Duganne 172 Birthday of the Republic, The. — Thomas Paine 109 3oy Britton. (August, 1814.) — Forceythe Willson 144 3ullRun. (Sunday, July 21.)— Alice B. Haven 170 Bunker Hill.— George H. Calvert 95 Junker's Hill— John Neal 97 Captain Molly at Monmouth. — William Collins 120 Capture of Quebec, The. — William Warburton 74 Capture of Ticonderoga, The. — Ethan Allen 72 Cassy. — Harriet Beecher Stowe 208 Cavalry Scout, The. — Edmundus Scotus 174 Centennial of 1876, The.— William Maxwell Evarts 254 Change of Base, A. — Albion W. Tourgee 183 Charter Oak, The. — George D. Prentice 83 Christopher C 26 lolonization of America, The. — William H. Prescott 47 Columbia and Liberty. — Robert Treat Paine 247 'olumbia's Emblem. — Edna Dean Proctor 258 lolumbus. — Aubrey De Vere 25 tolumbus. — James Russell Lowell 6 ! olumbus. — Joaquin Miller 4 z A CONTENTS. PA "Columbus. — Lydia H. Sigourney Columbus. — Thomas C. Adams.. Columbus to Ferdinand. — Jonathan Mason Cruise of the Monitor, The. — George M. Baker 1 Dangers to Our Eepublic. — Horace Mann 25 Death of Harrison.— N. P. Willis 15 Death of King Philip. — Washington Irving (j Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776 Declaration of Independence, The. — Carl Schurz 1C Discovery of America, The. — Washington Irving 1 Discovery of the Hudson River, The. — Washington Irving 2 Discovery of the Mississippi, The. — George Bancroft 2 Eloquence of Revolutionary Periods, The. — Rufus Choate 8 Fathers of New England, The. — Charles Sprague 5 Fields of War, The.— Isaac McLellan, Jr IS Fifer and Drummer of Scituate, The.— S. H. Palfrey 11 Fight of Lookout, The.— Richard L. Cary, Jr 2C For Freedom. — Edna Dean Proctor IS Fourth of July. — George W. Bethune Freeman's Defence, The. — Harriet Beecher Stowe From the Old World to the New.— Lizzie M. Hadley S Gray Forest Eagle, The.— Alfred B. Street 2£ High Tide at Gettysburg.— Will H. Thompson IS History of Our Flag. — Rev. Albert B. Putnam 24 In Memory of the Pilgrims. — Grenville Mellen 6 Indian Hunter, The. — Henry W. Longfellow 1 Indian Names. — Lydia H. Sigourney 6 Indian Warrior's Last Song, The.— J. Howard Wert Indians, The. — Joseph Story • £ Joshua of 1776, The.— W. R. Rose .' £ Keynote of Abolition, The. — William Lloyd Garrison U King Cotton. — Robert Mackenzie 11 Lexington. — Prosper M. Wetmore S Little Giffen. — Dr. Francis Orrery Ticknor 2S Lost War-Sloop, The. (The Wasp, 1814.)— Edna Dean Proctor ...... U Marion's Dinner. — Edward C. Jones 1£ Marquis de La Fayette. — Charles Sumner 11 Mayflower, The. — Erastus W. Ellsworth I Meaning of the Four Centuries, The 2( Mrs. Christopher Columbus. — Marie Sessions Cowell £ My Country. — George E. Woodberry 2^j Nation Born in a Day, A.— John Quincy Adams 1( ' CONTENTS. PAWI, National Hymn.— F. Marion Crawford 252 New England. — James Gates Perci val 54 Nineteenth of April, 1861, The.— Lucy Larcom 235 North American Indians. — Charles Sprague 64 On Board the Cumberland, March 7, 1862.— George H. Boker 189 On the Declaration of Independence. — Richard S. Storrs, D.D 107 Piccioli 187 Pilgrim Fathers, The. — Isaac McLellan, Jr 52 Pilgrim's Vision, The. — Oliver Wendell Holmes 58 Predictions Concerning the Fourth of July. — John Adams 136 Present Crisis, The. — James Russell Lowell 161 Quarrel of Squire Bull and his Son Jonathan. — James Kirk Paulding. 80 Queen Isabella's Resolve. — Epes Sargent 10 Reason Why, The.— J. P. Prickett 196 Reawakening. (1861-1889.) —Carl Spencer 159 Return of Columbus, The. — William H. Prescott 18 Return of Columbus, The. — Epes Sargent 17 Rising of the People, The. — Elbridge Jefferson Cutler 163 Soliloquy of Arnold. — Edward C. Jones 122 South in the Revolution, The. — Robert Young Hayne 138 Speech of Red Jacket 147 Spool of Thread, A. — Sophie E. Eastman 211 Stamp Act, The. — William Grimshaw 84 Stonewall Jackson's Death. — Paul M. Russell 213 Story of the Swords, The. — Adelaide C. Waldron 140 To a Portrait of Red Jacket. — Fitz-Greene Halleck 151 True Story of Abraham Lincoln 185 Two Banners of America, The. — Herrick Johnson 255 I Vicksburg. — Paul Hamilton Hayne 234 Vision of Liberty, The. — Henry Ware, Jr 167 \ Washington at Valley Forge. — Theodore Parker 114 \ Washington's Farewell to His Army 135 \ What Waked the World.— Albion W. Tourgee 154 \ Women of the Revolution.— Mary E. Blake 115 I Wood of Chancellorsville, The.— Delia R. German 192 HISTORICAL INDEX. Teachers will find this index helpful in teaching United States history. The selections are arranged in periods and cover Aineri can history down to the Spanish-American war. Teachers may ust on Friday afternoons those selections suited to the history being studied in the school. The teacher is recommended to review the lessons of the week and introduce in the review the proper selec tion to be recited by a pupil. PAG l PERIOD I.— DISCOVERIES.— 1492-1609 1 Christopher C 2( Columbus. — Thomas C. Adams Columbus. — Lydia H. Sigourney Columbus. — Joaquin Miller 4 Columbus. — James Russell Lowell ( Columbus. — Aubrey De Vere 25 Columbus to Ferdinand. — Jonathan Mason t Discovery of America, The. — Washington Irving Ik Discovery of the Hudson River, The. — Washington Irving 21 Discovery of the Mississippi, The. — George Bancroft 2t From the Old World to the New.— Lizzie M. Hadley 32 Mrs. Christopher Columbus. — Marie Sessions Cowell 2£ Queen Isabella's Resolve. — Epes Sargent It Return of Columbus, The. — Epes Sargent 17 Return of Columbus, The. — William H. Prescott 1£ PERIOD II.— SETTLEMENTS.— 1609-1681 47 Colonization of America, The — William H. Prescott 47 Fathers of New England, The. — Charles Sprague 56 In Memory of the Pilgrims. — Gren ville Mellen 61 Mayflower, Tbe.— Erastus W. Ellsworth 50 New England. — James Gates Percival 54 Pilgrim Fathers, The. — Isaac McLellan, Jr 52 Pilgrim's Vision, The. — Oliver Wendell Holmes 58 PERIOD III.— FRENCH AND INDIAN WARS.— 1690-1763 64 Capture of Quebec, The. —William Warburton 74 Capture of Ticonderoga, The.— Ethan Allen 72 Death of King Philip. — Washington Irving 69 Indian Hunter, The.— Henry W. Longfellow 71 Indian Names.— Lydia H. Sigourney 6fi INDEX TO PERIODS. PAQK PERIOD III. {Continued.) Indian Warrior's Last Song, The. — J. Howard Wert 78 Indians, The. — Joseph Story 66 North American Indians. — Charles Sprague 64 PEEIOD IV.— REVOLUTIONARY WAR.— DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.— 1764-1782 80 America to Great Britain.— Washington Allston 133 Battle of the Cowpens, The. — Thomas Dunn English. . . 124 Bell of Liberty, The.— J. T. Headley 103 Birthday of the Republic, The. — Thomas Paine 109 Bunker Hill.— George H. Calvert 95 Bunker's Hill.— John Neal 97 Captain Molly at Monmouth. — William Collins 120 Charter Oak, The. — George D. Prentice 83 Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776 99 Declaration of Independence, The. — Carl Schurz 105 Eloquence of Revolutionary Periods, The. — Rufus Choate 86 Fields of War, The.— Isaac McLellan, Jr 131 Fifer and Drummer of Scituate, The. — S. H. Palfrey 118 Joshua of 1776, The.— W. R. Rose 88 Lexington. — Prosper M. Wetmore 00 Marion's Dinner. — Edward C. Jones 130 Marquis de La Fayette. — Charles Sumner Ill Nation Born in a Day, A. — John Quincy Adams 108 On the Declaration of Independence. — Richard S. Storrs, D.D 107 Predictions Concerning the Fourth of July. — John Adams 136 Soliloquy of Arnold. — Edwai'd C. Jones 122 South in the Revolution, The. — Robert Young Hayne 138 Quarrel of Squire Bull and his Son Jonathan. — James Kirke Paulding 80 Stamp Act, The. — William Grimshaw 84 Washington at Valley Forge. — Theodore Parker 114 Washington's Farewell to His Army 135 Women of the Revolution. — Mary E. Blake 115 PERIOD V.— WAR OF 1812.— MEXICAN WAR.— 1812-1849 140 Battle of Tippecanoe, The 149 Boy Britton. (August, 1814.) — Forceythe Willson 144 Death of Harrison.— N. P. Willis 157 Lost War-Sloop, The. (The Wasp, 1814.)— Edna Dean Proctor. . 142 111 Speech of Red Jacket , ; . 147 INDEX TO PERIODS. PAGE PERIOD V. (Continued.) Story of the Swords, The.— Adelaide C. Waldron 140 To a Portrait of Red Jacket. — Fitz-Greene Halleck 151 What Waked the World.— Albion W. Tourgee 154 PERIOD VI.— CIVIL WAR.— EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. — 1861-18C4 159 Battle Above the Clouds, The.— Theron Brown 206 Battle of Lookout Mountain, The. — George H. Boker 200 Battle Poem, A.— Benjamin F. Taylor 230 Bay Fight, The.— Henry H. Brownell 215 Bethel.— A. J. H. Duganne 172 Bull Run. (Sunday, July 21.)— Alice B. Haven 170 Cassy. — Harriet Beecher Stowe 208 Cavalry Scout, The. — Edmundus Scotus 174 Change of Base, A. — Albion W. Tourgee 183 Cruise of the Monitor, The.— George M. Baker 176 Fight of Lookout, The.— Richard L. Gary, Jr 204 For Freedom. — Edna Dean Proctor 199 Freeman's Defence, The. — Harriet Beecher Stowe 225 High Tide at Gettysburg.— Will H. Thompson 194 Keynote of Abolition, The. — William Lloyd Garrison 181 King Cotton. — Robert Mackenzie 179 Little Giffen.— Dr. Francis Orrery Ticknor 224 Nineteenth of April, 1861, The.— Lucy Larcom 235 On Board the Cumberland, March 7, 1862.— George H. Boker 189 Piccioli 187 Present Crisis, The.— James Russell Lowell 161 Reason Why, The.— J. P. Prickett 196 Reawakening. (1861-1889.)— Carl Spencer 159 Rising of the People, The.— Elbridge Jefferson Cutler 163 Spool of Thread, A.— Sophie E. Eastman 211 Stonewall Jackson's Death. —Paul M. Russell 213 True Stoiy of Abraham Lincoln, A , 185 Vicksburg. — Paul Hamilton Hayne 234 Vision of Liberty, The.— Henry Ware, Jr 161 Wood of Chancellorsville, The.— Delia R. German 19S PERIOD VII.— DAWNING OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY.. 23'! America. — William Cullen Bryant 231 American Flag, The.— Henry Ward Beecher 24f Centennial of 1876, The.— William Maxwell Evarts 25^ INDEX TO PERIODS. PERIOD VII.— {Continued.) Columbus and Liberty. — Robert Treat Paine 247 Columbia's Emblem. — Edna Dean Proctor 258 Dangers to Our Republic. — Horace Mann 256 Fourth of July. — George W. Bethune 238 Gray Forest Eagle.— Alfred B. Street 239 History of Our Flag.— Rev. Albert B. Putnam 242 Meaning of the Four Centuries 260 My Country — George E. Woodberry 249 National Hymn. — F. Marion Crawford 252 Two Banners of America. — Herrick Johnson 255 Werner's Readings No. 10 — page ix. INDEX TO AUTHORS, PAGE Adams, John 136 Adams, John Quincy 108 Adams, Thomas C 2 Allen, Ethan 72 Allston, Washington 133 Baker, George M 176 Bancroft, George 28 Beecher, Henry Ward 245 Bethune, George W 238 Blake, Mary E 115 Boker, George H 189, 200 Brown, Theron 206 Brownell, Henry H 215 Bryant, William Cullen 237 Calvert, George H 95 Cary, Jr., Richard L 204 Choate, Rufus 86 Collins, William 120 Cowel, Marie Sessions 23 Crawford, F. Marion 252 Cutler, Elbridge Jefferson... 163 De Vere, Aubrey 25 Duganne, A. J. H 172 Eastman, Sophie E 211 Ellsworth, Erastus W 50 English, Thomas Dunn 124 Evarts, William Maxwell 254 Garrison, William Lloyd 181 German, Delia R 192 Grimshaw, William 84 Hadley, Lizzie M 32 Halleck, Fitz-Greene 151 Haven, Alice B 170 Hayne, Paul Hamilton 234 Hayne, Robert Young 138 Headley, J. T 103 Holmes, Oliver Wendell 58 Irving, Washington — 12,21, 69 Johnson, Herrick 255 Jones, Edward C 122, 130 Larcom, Lucy 235 Longfellow, Henry W 71 Lowell, James Russell 6, 161 McLellan, Jr., Isaac 52, Mackenzie, Robert Mann, Horace Mason, Jonathan Mellen, Grenville Miller, Joaquin Neal, John Paine, Robert Treat Paine, Thomas Palfrey, S. H Parker, Theodore Paulding, James Kirke Percival, James Gates Prentice, George D Prescott, William H 18, Prickett, J. P Proctor, Edna Dean.. 142, 199, Putnam, Rev. Albert B Rose, W. R Russell, Paul M Sargent, Epes 10, Schurz, Carl Scotus, Edmundus Sigourney, Lydia H 3, Spencer, Carl Sprague, Charles 56, Storrs, Richard, D.D Story, Joseph Stowe, Harriet Beecher. .208, Street, Alfred B Sumner, Charles Taylor, Benjamin F Thomas Will H Ticknor, Dr. Francis Orrery. Tourgee, Albion W 154, Waldron, Adelaide C Warburton, William Ware, Jr., Henry Wert, J. Howard Wetmore, Prosper M Willis, N. P ■Willson, Forceythe Woodberry, George E....... PAJ 1 If Werner's Readings No. 10 — page X. WERNER'S Readings and Recitations. No. 10. AMERICA'S RECITATION BOOK. Period L— DISCOVERIES. 1492 — 1609. Christopher Columbus, bom in Genoa, 1436, after eighteen years of effort to secure help in his enterprise, was provided by Queen Isabella of Spain with three small vessels and one hundred men at a cost of about $20,000. He sailed from Palos, Spain, August 3d, and landed at the Bahama Islands, October 12th, 1492. He died at Valladolid, 1506. Columbus discovered Cuba and Hayti, which he named Hispaniola, Little Spain. He believed that these islands were connected with India, and as they had been reached by a western passage they were called the West Indies. In accordance with this theory the aborigines of America, from the time of the first discovery, have been called Indians. In 1524 Francis I. of France, "willing to share a part of the New World with his neighbors," commissioned Verrazano on a voyage of discovery. This navigator explored a great part of the coast of North i America. Ten years later James Cartier set out on a similar expedition, Jsailed up the Gulf of St. Lawrence, took possession of the country in the •i name of the king, and called it New France. The name was afterward ,j changed to Canada. I In 1584 Sir Walter Ealeigh, under a commission from Queen Elizabeth fajto discover, occupy, and govern "remote heathen and barbarous coun- I tries, not previously possessed by any Christian prince or people," arrived " in America, entered Pamlico Sound and proceeded to Roanoke Island, where he took possession of the country. On his return to England he 1 gave such a splendid description of the beauty and fertility of the region that Elizabeth, delighted with the idea of occupying so fine a territory, gave it the name of Virginia, as a memorial that this happy discovery was made during the reign of a virgin queen. 1 WERNER'S READINGS COLUMBUS. THOMAS C. ADAMS. THRICE round the earth in graceful measures gliding, Dian, all blushes, dropped behind the sea; Amidst its vast expanse Columbus guiding, Where life-long hope assured new worlds must be. Wayworn and sad, but sea and sky appearing, His comrades urged their chief his quest forsake; And, though no doubt his steadfast faith could shake, He feigned to yield, their troubled spirits cheering; When spicy odors with the breezes blended, And birds of brilliant plumage fluttered by, Whispered at last the promised land Avas nigh ; And as another night his vigils ended, The morning sunbeams hill and dale display Of what his fancy pictured as Cathay. If not the Eden deemed, nor fair Cathay, The new-born world, like that famed realm of old, Eich in its spices, precious pearls and gold, Before his raptured gaze in beauty lay. Whether the fabled islands of the blest, Or where Phenicia plied her secret trade — Where holy Brandan found the streams flow west, Or in his armor the dead viking laid — Not his to know. Enough for him the thought This vast domain, long sought, from all concealed Since the primeval dawn, stood now revealed, His monarch's and his own, by perils bought. Forgot in moment of such pure delight, With what ingratitude can kings requite. Yet when within its earliest prison tower His limbs were fettered, but his soul soared free, AND RECITATIONS. Came visions of a happier destiny. Triumphant over greed and pride and power, The Old World to the New in turbid stream Poured forth its festering pools, its rot and rust. Bigots and tyrants, in his vivid dream, Sceptres and scaffolds moulder into dust. And as the generations came and went, Knowledge and love and faith the mastery gaining, The chains unloosed, false altars, prisons rent, Wisdom and innocence alone remaining, Behold an Eden of a nobler plan To reassert the majesty of man. COLUMBUS. LYDIA II. SIGOUKNEY. ST. STEPHEN'S cloistered hall was proud In learning's pomp that day, For there a robed and stately crowd Pressed on in long array. A mariner with simple chart Confronts that conclave high, While strong ambition stirs his heart, And burning thoughts of wonder part, From lip and sparkling eye. What hath he said? With frowning face In whispered tones they speak, And lines upon their tablets trace Which flush each ashen cheek; The Inquisition's mystic doom Sits on their brows severe, And bursting forth in visioned gloom Sad heresy from burning tomb Groans on the startled ear. WERNERS READINGS Courage, thou Genoese! Old Time Thy splendid dream shall crown; Yon Western Hemisphere sublime Where unshorn forests frown, The awful Andes' cloud-wrapped brow, The Indian hunter's bow, Bold streams untamed by helm or prow, And rocks of gold and diamonds, thou To thankless Spain shalt show. Courage, world-fir) der! Thou hast need ! In fate's unfolding scroll Dark woes and ingrate wrongs I read, That rack the noble soul. On ! on ! Creation's secrets probe, Then drink thy cup of scorn; And, wrapped in fallen Caesar's robe, Sleep like that master of the globe, All glorious — yet forlorn ! COLUMBUS. JOAQUIN MILLER. [Written expressly for and recited by Mrs. Frank. Lksuk.1 BEHIND him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said : " Now must we pray, For lo ! the very stars are gone. Speak, Admiral, what shall I say? " "Why say, 'Sail on! sail on! and on! ' AND RECITATIONS. " My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak." The stout mate thought of home; a spray Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. " What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, If we sight naught but seas at dawn? " " Why, you shall say at break of day, ' Sail on ! sail on ! sail on ! and on ! ' " They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, Until at last the blanched mate said : " Why, now not even God would know Should I and all my men fall dead. These very winds forget their way, For God from these dread seas is gone. Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say — " He said: " Sail on! sail on! and on! " They sailed. They sailed. Then spoke the mate: " This mad sea shows its teeth to-night. He curls his lip, he lies in wait, AVith lifted teeth, as if to bite ! Brave Admiral, say but one good word: What shall we do when hope is gone? " The words leapt as a leaping sword: " Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on! " Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights ! And then a speck — Alight! Alight! Alight! Alight! It grew, a starlit flag unfurled ! It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. He gained a world ; he gave that world Its grandest lesson ; " On and on! " WERNER'S READINGS COLUMBUS. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. HERE am I, for what end God knows, not I; Westward still points the inexorable soul. Here am I, with no friend but the sad sea, The beating heart of this great enterprise, Which, without me, would stiffen in swift death. This have I mused on, since mine eye could first Among the stars distinguish, and, with joy, Pest on the God-fed Pharos of the North ; To this one hope my heart hath clung for years, As would a foundling to the talisman Hung round his neck by hands he knew not whose. Tli is hope hath been to me for love and fame, Hath made me wholly lonely on the earth; Building me up as in a thick-ribbed tower, Wherewith enwalled my watching spirit burned, Conquering its little island from the dark, Sole as a scholar's lamp; and heard men's steps, In the far hurry of the outward world, Pass dimly forth and back, sounds heard in dream. As Ganymede by the eagle was snatched up From the gross sod to be Jove's cup-bearer, So was I lifted up by my great design. Yet to have greatly dreamed precludes low ends; Great days have ever such a morning-red, On such a base great futures are built up, And aspiration, though not put in act, Comes back to ask its plighted troth again. I know not when this hope enthralled me first, But from my boyhood up I loved to hear The tall pine forests of the Apennine Murmur their hoary legends of the sea; AND RECITATIONS. Which hearing, I, in vision clear, beheld The sudden dark of tropin night shut down O'er the huge whisper of great watery wastes. Then did I entertain the poet's song, My great Idea's guest, and, passing o'er That iron bridge the Tuscan built to hell, I heard Ulysses tell the mountain chains, Whose adamantine links, his manacles, The western main shook growling and still gnawed. I brooded on the wise Athenian's tale Of happy Atlantis, and heard Bjorne's keel Crunch the gray pebbles of the Vinland shore. For I believed the poets; it is they Who utter wisdom from the central deep, And, listening to the inner flow of things, Speak to the age out of eternity. Endurance is the cunning quality, And patience all the passion of great hearts; These are their stay, and when the leaden world Sets its hard face against their fateful thought, And brute strength, like a scornful conqueror, Clangs his huge mace down in the other scale, The inspired soul but flings his patience in, And slowly that outweighs the ponderous globe — One faith against a whole earth's unbelief, One soul against the flesh of all mankind. Thus ever seems it when my soul can hear The voice that errs not; then my triumph gleams O'er the blank ocean beckoning, and all night My heart flies on before me as I sail. Far on I see my life-long enterprise, Which rose like Ganges 'mid the freezing snows Of a world's sordidness, sweep broadening down And, gathering to itself a thousand streams, WERNER S READINGS Grow sacred ere it mingled with the sea. I see the ungated wall of chaos old, With blocks Cyclopean hewn of solid night, Fade like a wreath of imreturning mist Before the irreversible feet of light; And lo! with what clear omen in the east On day's gray threshold stands the eager dawn, Like young Leander, rosy from the sea, Glowing at Hero's lattice! One day more These muttering shoal-brains leave the helm to me. God, let me not in their dull ooze be stranded! Let not this one frail bark, to hollow which I have dug out the pith and sinewy heart Of my aspiring life's fair trunk, be so Cast up to warp and blacken in the sun, Just as the opposing wind 'gins whistle off His cheek-swollen mates, and from the leaning mast Fortune's full sail strains forward! One poor day ! Eemember whose, and not how short it is! It is God's day, it is Columbus's! A lavish day! One day with life and heart, Is more than time enough to find a world. COLUMBUS TO FERDINAND. JONATHAN MASON. T LLTTSTRIOUS monarch of Iberia's soil, 1 Too long I wait permission to depart; Sick of delays, I beg thy list'ning ear — Shine forth the patron and the prince of art. While yet Columbus breathes the vital air, Grant his request to pass the western main ; AND RECITATIONS. Eeserve this glory for thy native soil, And what must please thee more — for thy own reign. Of this huge globe how small a part we know — Does heaven their worlds to western suns deny? How disproportioned to the mighty deep The lands that yet in human prospect lie. Does Cynthia, when to western skies arrived, Spend her sweet beam upon the barren main; And ne'er illume with midnight splendor, she, The native dancing on the lightsome green? Should the vast circuit of the world contain Such wastes of ocean, and such scanty land? 'Tis reason's voice that bids me think not so; I think more nobly of the Almighty hand. Does yon fair lamp trace half the circle round To light the waves and monsters of the seas? No ! Be there must, beyond the billowy waste, Islands, and men, and animals, and trees. An unremitting flame my breast inspires, To seek new lands amidst the barren waves, Where falling low, the source of day descends, And the blue sea his evening visage leaves. Hear, in his tragic lay, Cordova's sage: " The time shall come, when numerous years are past, The ocean shall dissolve the bands of things, And an extended region rise at last ; And Typhis shall disclose the mighty land, Far, far away, where none have roved before ; Nor shall the world's remotest regions be Gibraltar's rock, on Thule's savage shore." Fired at the theme, I languish to depart; Supply the barque, and bid Columbus sail. He fears no storms upon the untravelled deep; Eeason shall steer, and skill disarm the gale. Nor does he dread to lose the intended course, 10 WERNER'S READINGS Though far from land the reeling galley stray, And skies above, and gulfy seas below, Be the sole object seen for many a day. Think not that nature has unveiled in vain The mystic magnet to the mortal eye ; So late have we the guiding needle planned Only to sail beneath our native sky? Ere this was found, the Killing Power of all, Found for our use an ocean in the land, Its breadth so small we could not wander long, Nor long be absent from the neighboring strand. Short was the course, and guided by the stars. But stars no more shall point our daring way; The Bear shall sink, and every guard be drowned, And great Arcturus scarce escape the sea, When southward we shall steer. Oh, grant my wish! Supply the barque, and bid Columbus sail ; He dreads no tempest on the untravelled deep, Reason shall steer and skill disarm the gale. QUEEN ISABELLA'S RESOLVE. EPES SARGENT. I Isabella, Queen of Spain. Characters < Don Gomez, a Grandee. ( Christopher Columbus. ISABELLA. And so, Don Gomez, you think we ought to dismis the proposition of this worthy Genoese? Don Gomez. His scheme, your Majesty, is fanciful in the ex treme. I am a plain man. I do not see visions and dream dream like some men. Isa. And yet Columbus has given us good reasons for believin< that he can reach India by sailing in a westerly direction. Don G. Delusion, your Majesty! Admitting that the eartl AND RECITATIONS. 11 s a sphere, how would it be possible for him to return, if he once lescended the sphere in the direction he proposes? Would not ;he coming back be all uphill? Could a ship accomplish it even vith the most favorable wind? Isa. What you have to say to these objections, Columbus? Columbus. With your Majesty's leave, I would suggest that if he earth is a sphere, the same laws of adhesion and motion must >perate at every point on its surface. Don G. Don't try to make me, a grandee of Spain, believe such tuff as that there are people on the earth who walk with their leads down, like flies on a ceiling! Would not the blood run into ny head if I were standing upside down? Col. I have already answered that objection. If there are people >n the earth who are our antipodes, it should be remembered that ve are also theirs. Isa. To cut short the discussion, you think that the enterprise, vhich Columbus proposes, is one unworthy of our serious consider- ition? Don G. As a matter-of-fact man, I must confess that I do so re- gard it. Has your Majesty ever seen an embassador from this un- known coast? Isa. Have you ever seen an embassador from the unknown world )f spirits? Don Gr. Certainly not. Through faith we look forward to it. Isa. Even so, by faith, does Columbus look forward, far over the nisty ocean, to an undiscovered shore. Know, Don Gomez, that ;he absurdity, as you style it, shall be tested, and that forthwith. Don G. Your Majesty will excuse me if I remark that I have ! rom your royal consort himself the assurance that the finances of -he government are so exhausted by the late wars that he cannot consent to advance the necessary funds for fitting out an expedition )f the kind proposed. Isa. Be mine, then, the privilege ! I have jewels, by the pledg- ng of which I can raise the amount required ; and I have resolved v hat they shall be pledged to this enterprise without more delay. 12 WERNER'S READINGS Col. Your Majesty shall not repent your heroic resolve. I will return — be sure I will return — and lay at your feet such a jewel as never queen wore yet, an imperishable fame that shall couple with your memory the benedictions of millions yet unborn in climes yet unknown to civilized man. There is a conviction in my mind that your Majesty will live to bless the hour you came to this decision. THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA. WASHINGTON IRVING. I SHALL not occupy time by discussing the huge mass of sup positions, conjectures, and probabilities respecting the first dis covery of this country, with which unhappy historians overload themselves, in their endeavors to satisfy the doubts of an incredu- lous world. It is painful to see these laborious wights panting and toiling and sweating under an enormous burden, at the very outset of their work, which, on being opened, turns out to be nothing but a mighty bundle of straw. As, however, by unwearied assiduity they seem to have established the fact, to the satisfactior of all the world, that this country has been discovered, I shal avail myself of their useful labors to be extremely brief upon this point. I shall not, therefore, stop to inquire whether America was first discovered by a wandering vessel of that celebrated Phceniciai fleet which, according to Herodotus, circumnavigated Africa, oi by that Carthaginian expedition which Pliny, the naturalist, in forms us discovered the Canary Islands; or whether it was settlec by a temporary colony from Tyre, as hinted by Aristotle ant Seneca. I shall neither inquire whether it was first discovered by th< Chinese, as Vossius, with great shrewdness, advances; nor by th Norwegians in 1002 under Broin; nor by Behem, the Germai AND RECITATIONS. 13 navigator; nor shall I investigate the more modern claims of the ■Welsh, founded on the voyage of Prince Madoc in the eleventh century, who, having never returned, it has been wisely concluded that he must have gone to America, and that for a plain reason — if he did not go there, where else could he have gone? a question which most Socratically shuts out all further dispute. Laying aside, therefore, all the conjectures above mentioned, with a multitude of others equally satisfactory, I shall take for granted the vulgar opinion that America was discovered on the 12th of October, 1492, by Christoval Colon, a Genoese, who has been clumsily nicknamed Columbus, but for what reason I cannot discern. Of the voyages and adventures of this Colon, I shall say nothing, seeing that they are already sufficiently known. Nor shall I undertake to prove that this country should have been called Colonia, after his name, that being notoriously self-evident. Having thus happily got my readers on this side of the Atlantic, I picture them to myself all impatience to enter upon the enjoyment |of the land of promise, and in full expectation that I will im- $mediately deliver it into their possession. But if I do, may I ever ^forfeit the reputation of a regular-bred historian ! No, no ; most jcurious and thrice learned readers (for thrice learned ye are if ye *have read all that has gone before, and nine times learned shall ye Ibe if ye read that which comes after), we have yet a world of work ''before us. Think you the first discoverers of this fair quarter of the globe had nothing to do but go on shore and find a country •ieady laid out and cultivated like a garden, wherein they might J'revel at their ease? No such thing: they had forests to cut down, Nnderwood to grub up, marshes to drain, and savages to exter- minate. j In like manner I have sundry doubts to clear away, questions to !> -resolve, and paradoxes to explain, before I permit you to range at random; but these difficulties once overcome we shall be enabled Ho jog on right merrily, though the rest of our history. Thus my i'work shall, in a manner, echo the nature of the subject, in the Isame manner as the sound of poetry has been found by certain 14 WERNER'S READINGS shrewd critics to echo the sense, this being an improvement in history which I claim the merit of having invented. It was on Friday morning, the 12th of October, 1492, that Co- lumbus first beheld the New World. On landing, he threw himself on his knees, kissed the earth, and returned thanks to God with tears of joy. His example was fol- lowed by the rest, whose hearts indeed overflowed with the same feelings of gratitude. Columbus then, rising, drew his sword, displayed the royal standard, and took solemn possession in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the island the name of San Salvador. Having complied with the requisite forms and ceremonies, he called upon all present to take the oath of obedience to him, as admiral and viceroy representing the persons of the sovereigns. The feelings of the crew now burst forth in the most extravagant transports. They thronged about the Admiral with overilowing zeal, some embracing him, others kissing his hands. Those who had been most mutinous aud turbulent during the voyage, were now most devoted and enthusiastic. Some begged favors of him, as if he had already wealth aud honors in his gift. Many abject spirits, who had outraged him by their insolence, now crouched at his feet, begging pardon for all the trouble they had caused him, and promising the blindest obedience for the future. As Columbus supposed himself to have landed on au island at the extremity of India, he called the natives by the general appel- lation of Indians, which was universally adopted before the true nature of his discovery was known, and has since been extended to all the aboriginals of the New World. The islanders were friendly and gentle. Their only arms were lances, hardened at the end by fire, or pointed with a flint, or the teeth or bone of a fish. There was no iron to be seen, nor did they appear acquainted with its properties; for when a drawn sword was presented to them, they unguardedly took it by the edge. On the following morning, at break of day, the shore was thronged with the natives; some swam off to the ships, others came AND RECITATIONS. 15 in light barks, which they called canoes, formed of a single tree hollowed, and capable of holding from one man up to the number of forty or fifty. . They were eager to procure toys and trinkets, not, apparently, from any idea of their intrinsic value, but because everything from the hands of the strangers possessed a supernatural virtue in their eyes, as having been brought from heaven ; they even picked up fragments of glass and earthenware as valuable prizes. The avarice of the discoverers was quickly excited by the sight of small ornaments of gold, worn by some of the natives in their noses. These the latter gladly exchanged for glass beads and hawks' bells; and both parties exulted in the bargain, no doubt admiring each other's simplicity. As gold, however, was an object of royal monopoly in all enterprises of discovery, Columbus forbade any traffic in it without his express sanction; and he put the same prohibition on the traffic for cotton, reserving to the crown all trade for it, wherever it should be found in any quantity. He inquired of the natives where this gold was procured. They answered him by signs, pointing to the south, where, he understood them, dwelt a king of such wealth that he was served in vessels of wrought gold. He understood, also, that there was land to the south, the southwest, and the northwest ; and that the people from the last- mentioned quarter frequently proceeded to the southwest in quest of gold and precious stones, making in their way descents upon the islands, and carrying off the inhabitants. Several of the na- tives showed him scars of wounds received in battles with these invaders. It is evident that a great part of this fancied intelligence was self-delusion on the part of Columbus; for he was under a spell of imagination which gave its own shapes and colors to every object. He was persuaded that he had arrived among the islands de-, scribed by Marco Polo as lying opposite Cathay, in the Chinese Sea, and he construed everything to accord with the account given of those opulent regions. Thus the enemies which the native*, spoke of as coming from the northwest, he concluded to be the 16 WERNER'S READINGS people of the mainland of Asia, the subjects of the great Khan of Tartary, who were represented by the Venetian traveller as accus- tomed to make war upon the islands, and to enslave their inhabi- tants. The country to the south, abounding in gold, could be no other than the famous island of Cipango; and the king, who was served out of vessels of gold, must be the monarch whose magnifi- cent city and gorgeous palace, covered with plates of gold, had been extolled in such splendid terms by Marco Polo. After a brief interval, the sovereigns requested of Columbus a recital of his adventures. His manner was sedate and dignified, but warmed by the glow of natural enthusiasm. He enumerated the several islands he had visited, expatiated on the temperate char- acter of the climate, and the capacity of the soil for every variety of production, appealing to the samples imported by him as evi- dence of their natural productiveness. He dwelt more at large on the precious metals to be found in these islands, which he inferred less from the specimens actually obtained than from the uniform testimony of the natives to their abundance in the unexplored regions of the interior. Lastly, he pointed out the wide scope afforded to Christian zeal in the illumination of a race of men whose minds, far from being wedded to any system of idolatry, were prepared by their extreme simplicity for the reception of pure and uncorrupted doctrine. The last consideration touched Isabella's heart most sensibly; and the whole audience, kindled with various emotions by the speaker's eloquence, filled up the perspective with the gorgeous coloring of their own fancies, as ambition or avarice or devotional feeling predominated in their bosoms. When Columbus ceased, the King and Queen, together with all present, prostrated them- selves on their knees in grateful thanksgiving, while the solemn strains of the Te Deum were poured forth by the choir of the royal chapel, as in commemoration of some glorious victory. INN*-- AND RECITATIONS. 17 THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS. EPES SARGENT. ,, , Don Gomez, a Grandee. 1 ' ,,J Pedro, his secretary. DON GOMEZ. What? What is all this you tell me? Colum- bus returned? A new world discovered? Impossible! Pedro. It is even so, sir. Only an hour since a courier arrived ; at the palace with the intelligence. Columbus was driven by stress i of weather to anchor in the Tagus. All Portugal is in a ferment i of enthusiasm, and all Spain will be equally excited soon. The sensation is prodigious. Don G. Oh, it is a trick! It must be a trick! Pedro. But he has brought home the proofs of his visit — gold (and precious stones, strange plants and animals; and, above all, specimens of a new race of men, copper-colored, with straight hair. Don G. Still I say, a trick ! He has been coasting along the African shore, and there collected a few curiosities which he is pass- ing off for proofs of his pretended discovery. Pedro. It is a little singular that all his men should be leagued i in keeping up so unprofitable a falsehood. Don G. But 'tis against reason, against common-sense, against : Scripture, that such a discovery should be made. It must not be ! It shall not be! Pedro. How will your Excellency prevent it? King John of Portugal has received him with royal magnificence, has listened to Ihis accounts, and is persuaded that they are true. Don G. We shall see, we shall see. Look you, sir, a plain, matter-of-fact man, such as I, is not to be taken in by any such preposterous story. This vaunted discovery will turnout no dis- covery at all. Mark my words. Pedro. The King and Queen have given orders for prepara- tions on the most magnificent scale for the reception of Columbus. 2 J8 WERNER'S READINGS Don" G. What delusion! Her Majesty is so credulous! A practical, common-sense man like myself can find no points of sympathy in such a nature. Pedro. The Indians on board of the returned vessels are said to be unlike any known race of men. Don G. Very unreliable, all that. I take the common-sense view of the affair. lam a matter-of-fact man; and, remember what I say — it will all turn out a trick. The crews may have been deceived. Columbus may have steered a southerly course instead of a westerly. Anything is probable, rather than that a coast to the westward of us has been discovered. Pedro. I saw the courier ; he told me he had conversed with all the sailors, and they laughed at the suspicion that there could be any mistake about the discovery, or that any other but a westerly course could have been steered. Don G. Still I say, a trick ! An unknown coast reached by steering west? Impossible! The earth a globe and men standing with their heads down in space? Polly! An ignorant sailor from Genoa in the right, and all our learned doctors and philosophers in the wrong? Infatuation! I am a matter-of-fact man. sir. I will believe what I can see and handle and understand. But as for believing in the antipodes, or that the earth is round, or that Columbus has discovered land to the west — oh, dear! if it should prove true, how the Queen will jeer me ! Ring the bell, sir. Order the carriage. I will go at once to the palace and undeceive the King and Queen. THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS. WILLIAM II. PRESCOTT. IN the spring of 1493, while the court was still at Barcelona, letters were received from Christopher Columbus, announc- ing his return to Spain and the successful achievement of his great enterprise, by the discovery of land beyond the western ocean. AND RECITATIONS. 19 The delight and astonishment, raised by this intelligence, were proportioned to the skepticism with which his project had been originally viewed. The sovereigns were now filled with a natural impatience to ascertain the extent and particulars of the important discovery ; and they transmitted instant instructions to the Admiral to repair to Barcelona as soon as he should have made the pre- liminary arrangements for the further prosecution of his enterprise. Great was the agitation in the little community of Palos, as they beheld the well-known vessel of the Admiral reentering their harbor. Their desponding imaginations had long since consigned him to a watery grave ; for, in addition to the preternatural horrors which hung over the voyage, they had experienced the most stormy and disastrous winter within the recollection of the oldest mariners. Most of them had relatives or friends on board. They thronged immediately to the shore, to assure themselves with their own eyes of the truth of their return. "When they beheld their faces once more, and saw them accompanied by the numerous evidences which they brought back of the success of the expedition, they burst forth in acclamation of joy and gratulation. They awaited the landing of Columbus, when the whole population of the place accompanied, him and his crew to the principal church, where solemn thanks- givings were offered up for their return, while every bell in the village sent forth a joyous peal in honor of the glorious event. The Admiral was too desirous of presenting himself before the sovereigns to protract his stay long in Palos. He took with him on his journey specimens of the multifarious products of the newly discovered regions. He was accompanied by several of the native islanders, arrayed in their simple barbaric costume, and decorated, as he passed through the principal cities, with collars, bracelets, and other ornaments of gold, rudely fashioned. He exhibited also considerable quantities of the same metal in dust, or in crude masses, numerous vegetable exotics possessed of aromatic or medici- nal virtues, several kinds of quadrupeds unknown in Europe, and birds whose varieties of gaudy plumage gave a brilliant effect to the pageant. The Admiral's progress through the country was every- 20 WERNER'S READINGS where impeded by the multitudes thronging forth to gaze at the ex- traordinary spectacle, and the more extraordinary man, who, in the emphatic language of that time, which has now lost its force from its familiarity, first revealed the existence of a "new world." As he passed through the busy, populous city of Seville, every win- dow-balcony, and house-top, which could afford a glimpse of him, is described to have been crowded with spectators. It was the middle of April before Columbus reached Barcelona. The nobility and cavaliers in attendance on the court, together with the authorities of the city, came to the gates to receive him, and escorted him to the royal presence. Ferdinand and Isabella were seated, with their son, Prince John, under a superb canopy of state, awaiting his arrival. On his approach they rose from their seats, and, extending their hands to him to salute, caused him to be seated before them. These were unprecedented marks of condescension to a person of Columbus's rank, in the haughty and ceremonious court of Castile. It was, indeed, the proudest moment in the life of Columbus. He had fully established the truth of his long-contested theory, in the face of argument, sophistry, sneers, skepticism, and contempt. He had achieved this not by chance, but by calculation, supported through the most adverse circumstances by consummate conduct. The honors paid him, which had hitherto been reserved only for rank, or fortune, or military success, purchased by the blood and tears of thousands, were, in his case, a homage to intellectual power, successfully exerted in behalf of the noblest interests of humanity. The discoveries of Columbus excited a sensation, particularly among men of science, in the most distant parts of Europe, strongly contrasting with the apathy which had preceded them. They congratulated one another on being reserved for an age which had witnessed the consummation of so grand an event. Most of the scholars of the day, however, adopted the erroneous hypothesis of Columbus, who considered the lands he had dis- covered as bordering on the eastern shores of Asia, and lying ad- AND RECITATIONS. 21 ijacent to the vast and opulent regions depicted in such golden colors by Mandeville and Polo. This conjecture, which was con- formable to the Admiral's opinions before undertaking the voyage, was corroborated by the apparent similarity between various produc- tions of these islands and of the east. From this misapprehension the new dominions soon came to be distinguished as the West Indies, an appellation by which they are still recognized in the titles of the Spanish crown. THE DISCOVERY OF THE HUDSON RIVER. WASHINGTON" IKVING. [In 1609 Henry Hudson, an Englishman in the service of the Dutch, on i voyage in quest of a northwest passage to India, discovered the river ivhich bears his name. Two Dutch forts were erected in 1614, one at Albany and one on Manhattan Island, where the city of New York now stands. The country was called New Netherlands, and the settlement on Manhattan Island was named New Amsterdam. These names were re- ;ained until the conquest of the country by the English. Charles II. of England granted the country to his brother, the Duke of York, in whose xonor the country and city were named. ] IN the ever-memorable year .of our Lord 1609, on a Saturday morning, the five-and-twentieth day of March, old style, did hhat " worthy and irrecoverable discoverer (as he has justly been called), Master Henry Hudson," set sail from Holland in a stout .ressel called the Half-Moon, being employed by the Dutch East india Company, to seek a northwest passage to China. Henry (or, as the Dutch historians call him, Hendrick) Hudson vas a seafaring man of renown, who had learned to smoke tobacco under Sir Walter Raleigh, and is said to have been the first to in- roduce it into Holland, which gained him much popularity in hat country, and caused him to find great favor in the eyes of heir High Mightinesses, the Lords States-General, and also of the .onorable East India Company. He was a short, square, brawny Id gentleman, with a double chin, a mastiff mouth, and a broad opper nose, which was supposed in those days to have acquired its 22 WERNER'S READINGS fiery hue from the constant neighborhood of his tobacco-pipe. Such was Hendrick Hudson, of whom we have heard so much, and know so little; and I have been thus particular in his descrip- tion for the benefit of modern painters and statuaries, that they may represent him as he was, and not, according to their common custom with modern heroes, make him look like Caesar, or Marcus Aurelius, or the Apollo of Belvidere. As chief mate and favorite companion, the commodore chose Master Robert Juet, of Limehouse, in England. He was an old comrade and early schoolmate of the great Hudson, with whom he had often played truant and sailed chip boats in a neighboring pond, when they were little boys; from whence it is said that the commodore first derived his bias toward a seafaring life. From all that I can learn, few incidents worthy of remark hap- pened in the voyage; and it mortifies me exceedingly that I have to admit so noted an expedition into my work, without making any more of it. Suffice it to say, the voyage was prosperous and tranquil ; the crew beiug a patient people, much given to slumber and vacuity, and but little troubled with the disease of thinking — a malady of the mind which is the sure breeder of discontent. Hudson had laid in abundance of gin and sour-krout, and every man was allowed to sleep quietly at his post unless the wind blew. Being under the especial guidance of Providence, the ship was safely conducted to the coast of America, where, after sundry unim- portant touchings and standings off and on, she at length, on the fourth day of September, entered that majestic bay which at thia day expands its ample bosom before the city of New York, and which had never before been visited by any European. After tarrying a few days in the bay, in order to refresh them- selves after their seafaring, our voyagers weighed anchor, to explore a mighty river which emptied into the bay. This river, it is said, was known among the savages by the name of the Shatemuck; though we are assured in an excellent little history, published in 1674, by John Josselyn, Gent., that it was called the Mohegan, and Master Richard Bloome, who wrote some time afterward, asserts AND RECITATIONS. 23 the same; so that I very much incline in favor of the opinion of these two honest gentlemen. Be this as it may, up this river did the adventurous Hendrick proceed, little doubting but it would turn out to be the much looked-for passage to China. After sailing, however, above a hundred miles up the river, he found the watery world around him began to grow more shallow and confined, the current more rapid, and perfectly fresh — phenomena not uncommon in the ascent of rivers, but which puzzled the honest Dutchman prodigiously. A consultation was, therefore, called, and having deliberated full six hours, they were brought to a determination by the ship's running aground. Being satisfied that there was little likelihood of getting to China, unless, like the blind man, he returned from whence he set out and took a fresh start, he forthwith re-crossed the sea to Holland, where he was received with great welcome by the honor- able East India Company, avIio were very much rejoiced to see him come back safe — with their ship. At a large and respectable meet- ing of the first merchants and burgomasters of Amsterdam, it was unanimously determined that, as a munificent reward for the eminent services he had performed, and the important dis- covery he had made, the great river Mohegan should be called after his name; and it continues to be called Hudson Eiver unto this very day. MRS. CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. MAEIE SESSIONS COWELL. WHY is it, I wonder, that we never hear of Mrs. Christopher Columbus? Perhaps people would smile if one were to say that America was really discovered by a woman. And yet it is true that if it had not been for his wife, Columbus never would have had the ambition to discover anything. If one must believe that when one looks closely into any great 24 WERNER'S READINGS crime a woman will always be found at the bottom of it, why not equally true that she will be found as a stimulator of good deeds? Certainly Mrs. Christopher was the ruling influence in the life of her liege lord. About the year 1470, Columbus went to live at Lisbon. There he met and fell in love with Dofla Felipa, daughter of the deceased Bartolomeo Monis de Palestrello, an Italian cavalier, and a naviga- tor of great distinction, who had colonized and governed the island of Porto Santo. Bartolomeo and his daughter Felipa had been the closest of friends, and on many of his voyages she had been his constant com- panion. She had inherited his love of adventure, and, having a fine artistic nature, she it was who wrote her father's journal, drew his maps and geographical charts, and later, at his dictation, wrote many valuable books and papers relative to his voyages. When Bartolomeo died, he left to his daughter all his papers, charts and journals, and land on the island of Porto Santo. It was there Felipa went to live with Columbus after their marriage. There they lived happily and quietly for several years. There their son Diego was born. Felipa had always been ambitious for her father, and encouraged him in his explorations when many thought them simply adven- turous follies. Now she transferred these ambitions to her husband. To be sure, Columbus had always hoped and dreamed that he might some day become an explorer and a discoverer; but, like so many men, his ideas would probably have always remained dreams, had he not found a wife who encouraged him, stimulated his am- bition, helped him, influenced him in innumerable little ways as only a woman can. Their life at Porto Santo was necessarily a quiet one, and Co- lumbus, perhaps because he loved his wife, perhaps because he had no one else to go to, came to rely more and more upon her for society and for sympathy. Then her opportunity came. She read to him, studied with him, talked with him, told him of the voyages she had made with her father ; of his ideas; the different naviga- AND RECITATIONS. 25 >rs, friends, and companions of her father whom she had known ; E the opinions they had held ; of the breathless interest with hich she had listened to their many discussions. And she pictured o him the glory and honor that would be his, were he to become successful explorer, and she suggested a possible country in the ar west. Finally she roused in him an enthusiasm equal to her wn. Then came his struggle for recognition. It was his wife who :ood by him, cheering and sustaining him when others ridiculed, t was her indomitable will that forced him to be courageous and ersevering, when oftentimes in his despair he was ready to give p everything. These were hard days for Felipa; besides her anxiety for her usband's welfare, she endured uncomplainingly many days and ights of pain. She knew that her life was drawing to a close, nd she longed to live that she might see the fulfilment of her de- res. But it was not to be. Until the very last she forced her- jlf to think for Columbus and to forget herself. When she was ying she called him to her and told him that she felt sure Queen sabella of Spain would assist him, and begged him to promise her lat he would go to the Queen and implore her aid. Poor Felipa! le died without knowing the success of her heart's wish. If Christopher Columbus discovered America, certainly Felij iscovered the latent genius in Columbus, and by her remarks ifluence helped him to his life's work. Why doesn'tj ''hristopher Columbus deserve some recognition also? COLUMBUS. DEVERE. THE crimson sun was sinking down to rest, Pavilioned on the cloudy verge of heaven, And Ocean, on her gently heaving breast, Caught and flashed back the varying tints of even; 26 WERNER'S READINGS When on a fragment from the tall cliff riven, With folded arms and doubtful thoughts oppressed, Columbus sat, till sudden hope was given — A ray of gladness, shooting from the west. Oh, what a glorious vision for mankind Then dawned above the twilight of his mind — Thoughts shadowy still, but indistinctly grand! There stood his Genius, face to face, and signed (So legends tell) far seaward with her hand — Till a new world sprang up and bloomed beneath her wand. He was a man whom danger could not daunt, Nor sophistry perplex, nor pain subdue ; A stoic, reckless of the world's vain taunt, And steeled the path of honor to pursue; So, when by all deserted, still he knew How best to sooth the heart-sick, or confront Sedition, schooled with equal eye to view The frowns of grief and the base pangs of want. But when he saw that promised land arise In all its rare and bright varieties, Lovelier than fondest fancy ever trod; softening nature melted in his eyes; knew his fame was full, and blessed his God, fell upon his face and kissed the virgin sod. CHRISTOPHER C- N the city of Genoa, over the sea, In a beautiful land called Italy, fThere lived a sailor called Christopher C — 'A very wise man for his time was he. 'He studied the books and maps and charts, All that they knew about foreign parts; AND RECITATIONS. 2? And he said to himself : " There certainly oughter Be some more land to balance the water. "As sure as a gun, the earth is round; Some day or other a way will be found To get to the east by sailing west; Why shouldn't I find it as well as the rest? " The court philosopher shook his head. Laughing at all that Christopher said ; But the Queen of Spain said, " Christopher C , Here is some money; go and see." That is just what he wanted to do, And in fourteen hundred and ninety-two From the port of Palos, one August day, This Christopher C went sailing away. He sailed and sailed with wind and tide, But lie never supposed that the sea was so wide. And the sailors grumbled and growled, and cried, " We don't believe there's another side. " Oh, take us back to our native shore, Or we never shall see our wives any more! Take us back, Christopher C ■ Or we'll tumble you overboard into the sea." In spite of their threats he wouldn't do it: There was land ahead, and Christopher knew it. They found San Salvador, green and low, And the captain shouted, " I told you so! " This is the land King Solomon knew, Where myrrh and aloes and spices grew. Where gold and silver and gems are found, Plentv as pebbles all over the ground." 28 WERNER'S READINGS They thought they had sailed clear round the hall, But it wasn't the other side at all, But an island lyiug just off a shore Nobody had ever seen before. They planted their flag on a flowery plain, To show that the country belonged to Spain; But it never once entered Christopher's mind That North America lay behind. Then Christopher C he sailed away, And said he would come another day; Bat if he had stayed here long enough, We should talk Spanish or some such stuff. THE DISCOVERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. GEORGE BANCROFT. [Mississippi River, Indian name Miclie Sepe, Great River, literal "Father of Waters, " the longest river in the world, was discovered 1 Ferdinand De Soto, June, 1541, he being the first European to look up< the famous stream. The main part of the river was discovered by 1 Salle in February, 1682. ] [The French having been the first discoverers of the Mississippi Rivf claimed the country watered by it and its tributaries. They attempted connect their colonies in Canada and Louisiana by a line of militu posts. The British government directed the Americans to oppose tl plan by force of arms. George Washington, then 22 years of age, wa in 1753, appointed colonel of the regiment. War was formally declar in 1756. By the Peace of Paris, in 1763, all French possessions in Ami ica were confirmed to Great Britain.] THE long-expected discovery of the Mississippi was accomplish by James Marquette and Louis Joliet. The enterprise w favored by Talon, who, on the point of quitting Canada, wished signalize the last years of the stay by opening for France the w: to the western ocean ; and who, immediately on the "arrival Frontenac from France, in 1072, had advised him to employ Loi Joliet in the discovery. Joliet was a native of Quebec, educated AND RECITATIONS. 29 its college, and a man " of great experience" as a wayfarer in the wilderness. He had already been in the neighborhood of the great river which was called the Mississippi, and which at that time was supposed to discharge itself into the Gulf of California; and early in 1673 he entered on his great career. Behold, then, in 1673, on the tenth day of June, James Mar- quette and Louis Joliet, five Frenchmen as companions, and two Algonquins as guides, dragging their two canoes across the narrow portage that divides the Fox River from the Wisconsin. They reach the water-shed. Uttering a special prayer to the Immacu- late Virgin, they leave the streams that could have borne their greetings to the castle of Quebec. "The guides returned," says the gentle Marquette, " leaving us alone, in this unknown land, in the hands of Providence." Embarking on the broad Wisconsin, the discoverers went soli- tarily down its current, between alternate plains and hillsides, be- holding neither man nor familiar beasts. No sound broke the silence but the ripple of their canoes and the lowing of the buffalo. In seven days " they entered happily the Great Eiver, with a joy that could not be expressed," and raising their sails un- der new skies and to unknown breezes, floated down the calm mag- nificence of the ocean stream, over the broad, clear sand-bars, the resort of innumerable water-fowl, through clusters of islets tufted with massive thickets, and between the natural parks of Illinois and Iowa. About sixty leagues below the Wisconsin the western bank of the Mississippi bore on its sands the trail of men ; a little foot- path was discovered leading into beautiful fields; and, leaving the canoes, Joliet and Marquette resolved alone to brave a meeting with the savages. After walking six miles, they beheld a village on the banks of a river, and two others on a slope, at a distance of a mile and a half from the first. The river was the Moingona, of which we have corrupted the name into Des Moines. Marquette and Joliet, the first white men Avho trod the soil of Iowa, com- mending themselves to God, uttered a loud cry. Four old men 30 WERNER'S READINGS advanced slowly to meet them, bearing the peace-pipe brilliant with many colored plumes. " We are Illinois," said they — that is, when translated, "We are men;'"' and they offered the calumet. An aged chief received them at his cabin with upraised hands, ex- claiming: " How beautiful is the sun, Frenchman, when thou comest to visit us! Our whole village awaits thee; thou shalt enter in peace into all our dwellings." And the pilgrims were followed by the devouring gaze of an astonished crowd. The little group proceeded onward. "I did not fear death," says Marquette, in July; "I should have esteemed it the greatest happiness to have died for the glory of God." They passed the perpendicular rocks, which wore the appearance of monsters. They heard at a distance the noise of the waters of the Missouri, known to them by its Algonquin name of Pekitanoni ; and, when they came to the grandest confluence of rivers in the world — where the swifter Missouri rushes like a conqueror into the calmer Miss- issippi, dragging it, as it were, hastily to the sea — the good Mar- quette resolved in his heart one day to ascend the mighty river to its source; to cross the ridge that divides the oceans, and, descend- ing a westerly flowing stream, to publish the gospel to all the people of this New World. Having descended below the entrance of the Arkansas, and hav- ing become certain that the father of rivers went not to the Gulf of California, but was undoubtedly the river of the Spiritu Santo of the Spaniards, which pours its flood of waters into the Gulf of Mexico, on the seventeenth of July Marquette and Joliet left Arkansas, and ascended the Mississippi, having the greatest diffi- culty in stemming its currents. At the thirty-eighth degree of latitude they entered the river Illinois, which was broad and deep and peaceful in its flow. Its banks were without a paragon for its prairies and its forests, its buffaloes and deer, its turkeys and geese, and many kinds of game, and even beavers; and there were many small lakes and rivulets. "When I was told of a country without trees," wrote Joliet, "I imagined a country that had been burned over, or of a soil too poor AND RECITATIONS. 31 to produce anything; but we have remarked just the contrary, and it would be impossible to find a better soil for grain, for vines, or any fruits whatever." He held the country on the Illinois River to be the most beautiful and the most easy to colonize. " There is no need," he said, " that an emigrant should employ ten years in cut- ting down the forest, and burning it. On the day of his arrival the emigrant could put the plough into the earth." The tribe of the Illinois entreated Marquette to come and re- side among them. One of their chiefs, with their young men, guided the party to the portage, which in spring and the early part of summer was but half a league long, and they easily reached the lake. " The place at which we entered the lake," to use the words >of Joliet, " is a harbor very convenient to receive ships, and to •give them protection against the wind." Before the end of Sep- tember the explorers were safe in Green Bay, but Marquette was exhausted by his labors. In 1675 Marquette, who had been delayed by his failing health for more than a year, rejoined the Illinois on their river. Assem- bling the tribe, whose chiefs and men were reckoned at two thou- sand, he raised before them pictures of the Virgin Mary, spoke to them of One who had died on the cross for all men, and built an altar and said mass in their presence on the prairie. Again cele- brating the mystery of the Eucharist, on Easter Sunday, he took possession of the land in the name of Jesus Christ, and there founded ia mission. This work being accomplished, his health failed him, and he began a journey through Chicago to Mackinaw. On the way, feeling himself arrested by the approach of death, he entered a little river in Michigan, and was set on shore that he might breathe his last in peace. He repeated in solitude all his acts of devotion of the preceding days. When, after a little while, his com- panions returned to him, they found him passing gently away near the stream that has taken his name. On its highest bank the canoe-men dug his grave. To a city, a county, and a river, Michigan has given his name. 32 WERNER'S READINGS FROM THE OLD WORLD TO THE NEW LIZZIE M. HADLEY. Characters Christopher Columbus. Domenico, ) Paoli, >• Boyish friends of Columbus. Ludivico, ) Ignorance, ) „ ... Superstition, [Genoese citizens. Luis de St. Angel, A nobleman. Pedro, "1 Rodriguez, q .-, Garcia, jailors. Matheos, J Future, a god. First Citizen. Second Citizen. Isabella, Queen of Spain. First Spirit. L Second Spirit. Attendants, Courtiers, Citizens, Musicians, Sailors. Scene I. — Columbus at home. An ordinary room. A boy stands by the window. He wears slippers or sandals ; long hose ; short, full pants drawn in by an elastic a little above the knees ; short, belted tunic ; Tarn O' Shanter cap with a feather. Enter three boys. BOYS. Christopher, Christopher! Where art thou? Domenico. Here he is, watching the sea as usual. What dost thou see there? Christopher {turning around]. Oh, wonderful things. Great ships sailing over the waters, and fair countries beyond the un- known seas, rich in gold, amber, precious stones and spices. Dom. [looking from window]. I would I might see them, too. Chris. And canst thou not? Dom. Nay; I see naught hut the blue sea, with fishermen's boats upon it. Chris, [pointing from window]. But beyond all these, away in the west, dost thou not see the high mountains and green valleys of that mystic isle of which we oft have heard? Dom. [shaking head]. There's naught there. Thon'rt but a AND RECITATIONS. 33 dreamer. Come, awake ! Here are Ludivico and Paoli come to share our sport. Don't stand there longer watching for phantom isles, but come with us and tell us what to play. Chkis. [turning from window"]. Ay, marry, that I will. I like full well our sport. We'll play we're valiant sailors. [All sing chorus from " Pinafore."] "We sail the ocean blue, And our saucy ship's a beauty ; We're sober men and true, And attentive to our duty. When the balls whistle free, over the bright blue sea We stand to our guns all day ; When at anchor we ride on the blue sea's tide, We have plenty of time for play. " Chkis. In sooth, 'tis a merry song and well sung. And now for sport. These chairs shall be our ships. Here is mine, waiting by the sea. [Points to large arm-chair.] Who'll sail with me? Dom. Dost thou go a-fishing, good Christopher? Then I will go with thee. Paoli. And I. Ludivico. And so will I. Chkis. [scornfullg]. Nay; no fish forme. Let old men and babes catch the fish. I go to fight the Venetians, and show them what Genoese steel can do. Ludivico and Domenico shall be the Venetians. Paoli and I will be the Genoans, and conquer thee. Lud. [slyly]. Or be conquered thyself. Chkis. Nay, friend Ludivico, methinks thou 'It find it a hard task to do that. Pao. [proudly] . No one can conquer Christopher. Dom. Ay, there's one can conquer him, I trow. All. Who is't? Tell us his name. Dom. The schoolmaster, to be sure. Didst see the caning he gave Christopher, but yesterday? Pao, I heard a whisper of it from Giuseppe. How did it come about? 3 34 WERNER'S READINGS Cheis. It was all from the lesson in geography. In spite of learned folk who say to the contrary, the master believes the earth to be a flat surface spread out beneath the sky, and bounded by unknown waters, full of all sorts of strange and dreadful beasts. I did but say it must end somewhere, and asked what lies beyond its outmost bounds; and upon that he flew into a passion, called me a saucy vagabond, forever asking idle questions, and used his staff upon me. Pao. Then, doubtless, thou didst beg his pardon and promise to offend no more. Chris. Not so. Why should I? I meant no disrespect. I asked because I fain would know what lies in the strange seas "be- yond Cape Bajador. Perchance he does not know himself. Well, it matters little now; I'll know the whole some day. Dom. How wilt thou know? Chris. I'll go there and see for myself. Pao. How canst thou go? No ship hath sailed those waters. Chris. Oh, when I'm a man, I'll have a big ship of my own, and I'll sail and sail away into the west until I find the unknown land that lies there. Lud. Thou mayst not do that, good Christopher. Hast thou not heard that sea is full of dragons and dreadful beasts of prey? Chris, [pretending to draw a sword]. With my good sword at my side I'll fear them not. Dom. [slowly]. Perchance I may go with thee — for, mayhap, thou 'It find much treasure there. Chris. Ay, we'll find the gems and gold of far Cathay, and, best of all, we'll carry our blessed religion to the poor heathen who dwell there. But come, no more of this. Dost know that I leave thee to-morrow? All [in astonishment]. Leave us to-morrow? Where dost thou go? Chris. To Pavia. Pao. How does that come about? Chris. Methinks the schoolmaster repented of his rashness, for AND RECITATIONS. 35 in his talk with father but yesternight, he said he could teach me no more, and did recommend him to send me to the University. Lud. Then this is our last day together. At Pavia thou'lt find new friends and forget the old ones. Chris, [reproachfully]. Thou shouldst know me better than that, Ludivico. Lud. But thou art glad to go? Chris. Ay, for dost thou not see I'll learn of things the master cannot teach me here? Pao. And return a wiseacre. Chris. I would I might, but a lifetime's far too short to garner more than crumbs of wisdom. But see! \j)oints to window] the day grows old, and we forget our sport. [Pointing to different chairs.] There lie the ships of Venice. Here those of Genoa. And now, art ready for the conflict? All. We are ready. Chris. Then have at thee now. Look to thyself, good Paoli. [Both rush at Domenico and Ludivico, who defend themselves, but are soon overpotvered.] Chris. Thy ships and lives are forfeit now to us, the victors. Sue for mercy, or thou shalt surely die. Lud. and Dom. [falling on knees]. Mercy, mercy, noble captain ! Chris. Dost swear eternal fealty to Genoa? Lud. and Dom. We swear. Chris. Then thou mayst go free. Thus Genoa shall ever conquer Venice. And, since thou art true Genoans uoav, come join us in a song. [All join hands and dance around singing, to the tune of " We are Little Soldier Bogs," from " Kindergarten Songs," by E. Smith.] "We are little sailor boys, Singing here, together, Up and down our decks we go. Careless of the weather ; Now before our sturdy blows Enemies are falling, Little reck we of our lives, When our country's calling." 36 WERNER'S READINGS Scene II. — A room in a Genoese house. Two citizens, Ignorance and Superstition, talk together. Genoese costume : Sandals, long hose and short, full pants — same as boys. A loose tunic or coat with full sleeves. This should be of some bright color. Superstition [sitting in arm-chair partly bent over as if with age or weakness, shaking his head sorrowfully']. Ah me ! we've fallen upon evil times. There's nothing now as it was when you and I were young. Ignorance. You may well say that, neighbor. Then a boy believed what he was told, said his prayers like a Christian, and ate the food the good God sent him. But nowadays he's no sooner out of swaddling-clothes than he begins to doubt and question, and wants a reason for everything he sees; as if God sent him into the world to make an interrogation point of himself! Sup. Every word thou sayest is true, friend Ignorance. Now there's neighbor Colombo's son, just home from Pavia, with his head crammed full of learning, and forever talking of astrology and navigation and of countries beyond the western sea. I've heard he likes not the honest trade of wool-combing, but would fain follow the fashion of many another ne'er-do-well, and be- come a sailor. That's ever the way with boys who cram their heads with new-fangled ideas, and they'll go their own road in spite of all we wiser folk may say. Ig. Well, well! I've always said, " Much learning is a dangerous thing," and I am more than ever convinced of it. Thank heaven, my boys never wanted it. Sup. You may well give thanks for that, good neighbor; and [lowers voice] you mark my words, neighbor Colombo's son '11 come to a bad end yet. [Enter god of the Future. He wears a long, flowing white robe, and croivn of stars upon his head.] Future. And you mark my words, neighbor Colombo's son'll make a name for himself yet. Ig. [springing from chair]. What bold braggart is this? Who art thou, sirrah, who dares to give the lie to neighbor Superstition? AND RECITATIONS. 37 Fut. [solemnly] . Behold in me one to whom all men's faces are ever turned. One who holds within his grasp thy hopes, thy lives, thy loves and thy fears. , Ig. and Sup. Thy name? Fut. Men call me the Future. By One above the power,, is given me to see what lies in the years that are to come, and I tul thee truly this despised youth shall one day consort with kings and princes. That time shall surely come, and when it does, ye who now despise him will be proud so ye but touch his garment's hem. Ig. How will he win such honor? Fut. He will rule over a new world, of whose existence now you do not even dream. Sup. Pooh, pooh, good sir! That's but a jest, and an irreverent one, methinks. Worlds are not made at the command of mortals. Fut. Your words are true ones, friend, but yet methinks I said not that he would create a new world. He will but reign o'er one that's now unknown. [Shading eyes with left hand and pointing to the west with right one. ] Behold him now ! A sturdy, valiant man, sailing across the unknown ocean, beset by perils that might well make the bravest quail. Yet, spite of all, he gains the goal he seeks, and of him 'twill one day be said: "To Castile and Leon, Columbus gave a new world;" so flout not now at his learning. It will one day stand him in good stead, and remember that — "Great deeds are natural to great men. As mean things are to small ones, By his work we know the master, Let us not perplex him." Scene III. — Audience-room in the palace. A chair upon a platform or dais, with some heavy drapery thrown over it, may form the throne. Courtiers and citizens grouped about the room, waiting for an audience with the Queen. Columbus stands apart from the others, his hands clasped behind him, looking thoughtfully down at the floor. He wears Genoese costume described in Scene II., with the addition of a loose cloak and velvet cap with a feather. 1st Citizen [pointing to Columbus]. What manner of man is that, who seems as in a dream? He looks straight at thee, yet sees thee not. 38 WERNER'S READINGS 2d Citizen. That is Christopher Columbus, the mad Genoese sailor, who seeks an audience of our good Queen Isabella. ,1st Cit. Mad, say you? Then, wherefore does he seek the q een? 2d Cit. He has some wild scheme in his head about a world h> yond the ocean, and he wants the Queen to furnish money, ships and men to sail to this new world. 1st Cit. Thou mayst well call him mad. A world beyond the sea, forsooth! Why, the very babes in their cradles know that be- yond the cape the waters of the sea are boiling hot, and none but salamanders can live there. 2d Cit. This man doth say such tales are false. 1st Cit. How should he know more than the wise men and skilful sailors who have sailed the sea before him? And if the earth, as some folk hath it, be like unto a ball, and men could reach the antipodes, how would it profit us? Men are not flies that they may walk head downward. What says the Queen to this madman's project? 2d Cit. It is whispered that she is not averse to it. But the Moorish war hath drained her coffers, and there is no money for the enterprise. Moreover, our most gracious lord, the Archbishop of Granada, hath declared the terms this man would make doth degrade the dignity of the crown, and should he fail — as belike he will — the world would laugh at Spain's credulity. 1st Cit. What saith Columbus to this? 2d Cit. He refuseth the more moderate terms they offer him. Naught but the titles and privileges of admiral and viceroy o'er the countries he shall discover will content him, and but three days since he did abandon all and set out for Cordova. 1st Cit. How comes it, then, that he is here to-day seeking an audience of the Queen? 2d Cit. When it was known that he was gone, his friends gained audience of the Queen and did entreat her with such fair words that, ere he had left the city two leagues behind, a mounted messenger was sent in haste to bid him return. And now 'tis said AND RECITATIONS. 39 t the Queen will no more heed the archbishop, but will grant the madman's demands. 1st Cit. And the money? If her coffers be empty where will she get that? 2d Cit. I know not, but rumor hath it that she will pledge her jewels. [March heard on a piano outside.] But hist! a sound of music! Is't the Queen? [Goes to window.] 1st Cit. Ay, she comes with her attendants. 2d Cit. That's right merry music. 1st Cit. They may well make merry music since the heathen Moors at last are driven from their fastnesses. Boabdil hath himself ^surrendered the keys of his capitol, and the flags of Castile and :Aragon float o'er the domes of the Alhambra. But see! The Queen appears! [Enter Queen, attendants, and musicians. Tlie Queen should wear a long flowing robe trimmed with ermine, and two pages should carry her train. The skirt is open in front, displaying an under- dress of another color. A chemisette ivith slashed sleeves, and a velvet sleeveless jacket laced with gold. The attendants' 1 dresses are made in the same manner, but of different material. All ivear veils, and on the Queen's head is a crown. She seats herself on the throne. Attendants range themselves about her. She beckons to Columbus, who kneels before throne.] Queen [extending hand to Columbus, who rises and bends over it\. We are pleased to see, Columbus, that thou hast heeded our summons and returned from Cordova. Tell us once more of this scheme of thine, which makes us such fair promises. Why dost thou think there may be other lands, of which we know not? Columbus. Most gracious lady, it is now commonly believed that tthis earth of ours in shape is like a ball, and methinks if this be so, then, to balance the known earth, there should be unknown land upon the other side. Queen. All this is mere conjecture. Col. And yet, gracious Queen, learned men will tell thee that it hath a foundation in reason. But not alone on this do I 40 WERNER'S READINGS build my hopes, for even the Lord God, Most High, hath declared that ,( there is a place hid from the eyes of all the living." Queen. And dost thou think He will tell thee where to find that unknown land? Col. Of a truth, I do. He says: " Behold the days shall come when there shall rise up a kingdom upon the earth;" and hath He not already sent the holy prophet Isaiah to me in dreams, to point me to the west, and bid me sail there if I would find another kingdom? Hast thou not also read the story of Atlantis? Queen. That's but an old man's idle tale, writ to tickle the ears of fools. Col. But, gracious lady, what think'st thou of Seneca, who says: " Thetis will reveal to you a great new land, and Thule will no more be the end of the world"? Queen. All madness. Col. Mayhap it is, but yet, methinks, " if it be madness then there's method in it." noble Queen! Let me once more en- treat thee to hesitate no longer, while a world beyond the sea is waiting now for thee to send to thousands yet unsaved our blessed religion to guide them to the cross. Let but these glorious tidings go to them, reflecting glory on the nation and giving to thee empire and lasting dominion. [Kneels and clasps hands imploringly.] Queen [thoughtfully]. Thou mayst be right, Columbus, and to show that I believe thee, here are my jewels. [ Offers casket to Co- lumbus.] Take them and pay the expenses of thy outfit. Luis de St. Angel [taking jewels and handing them back to the Queen]. There is small need of these, gracious Queen. Take back thy jewels. So thou dost smile on the enterprise, I will fur- nish money for the expedition. Queen [taking back casket]. Right gladly do I accept thy of- fer; but if there be need of them, the jewels shall be ready. None shall say that Isabella thought more of these glittering baubles than of immortal souls. And now, good Columbus, thou mayst at once set about thy preparations, and may thv voyage prove a happy and prosperous one, AND RECITATIONS. 41 Col. Ah, most noble Queen, my heart is too full for many Words; but I dare predict that for this day's work thou shalt achieve more renown than hath ever been obtained by sovereign the most valor- ous and fortunate. Scene IV. — Cabin of the Santa Maria. A small room, hung with maps. A globe on the table. Columbus seated in a chair beside the table. Col. Can it be that after eighteen long years of poverty, neglect, and ridicule, my perseverance is to be rewarded with success? That at last I am sailing toward the unknown land that hath been the goal of all my dreams and aspirations since childhood? [Shakes head.] And yet — and yet my mind misgives me. 'Tis but for adventure and the love of gain the men have been induced to join this expedition, and now that land hath faded from our sight they grow faint-hearted. Twice hath the Pinta been disabled, and I fear 'twas through the contrivance of the owners of the vessel, who like not the thoughts of this expedition. The smoke and flames from Teneriffe, the variableness of the needle of the compass, and e'en this wind that bloweth ever westward, all fill their doubt- ing hearts with terror and dismay. Matheos, too, my own lieu- tenant, doth much to hinder and to stir up mutiny against me. But come! I'll think no more of these things. My trust is in a higher power, and He who sent me on this voyage, who holds us all within the hollow of His hand, will surely have me in His keeping. And now to sleep, for the night wanes, and the morrow with its cares will be here all too soon. [Leans hack in chair and falls asleep. Soft music without. En- ter two Spirits with silver wings, and wearing white robes. Tliey sing softly to the tune in kindergarten song, " Sleep, Baby, Sleep."] " Sleep, mortal, sleep ! Thy Father vigils will keep. Thy Father in heaven thy face can see, And gently His blessing falls on thee. Sleep, mortal, sleep !" 1st Spirit [bending" over Columbus] . He sleeps. 42 WERNER'S READINGS 2d Spirit. And he hath need of sleep. Gcd's envois are not wont to find life's field a flowery mead. 1st Spirit. Too true, alas! Too oft they meet rebuffs ami cruelty. 2d Spirit. And he., the greatest, wisest of them all, divinely sent, must bear and suffer much, if he would gain his end. [Columbus moves uneasily, ] 1st Spirit. See, he stirs! 2d Spirit. He does but dream. 1st Spirit. You will waken him ! 2d Spirit. Nay; Til change the current of his dreams. [Touches Columbus and holds before him a crown of laurel.'] Dost, see this laurel wreath? Col. [with eyes closed and still asleep]. I see it well. 2d Spirit. 'Tis woven for him who'd bear a deathless name. "Wouldst wear it? Col. [still asleep], I would. 2d Spirit. Yet know that he who wears this wreath of fame must faintly toil up life's steep heights, while thorns shall pierce his bleeding feet. Art ready for this? Col. I am ready. 2d Spirit. Canst thou endure the ingratitude and treachery of kings? Col. I can endure all things through Him who strengthened me. 2d Spirit. Wouldst thou succeed? Then know. Before the laurel wreath can touch thy brow, a prison waits for thee; and though thou givest to kings a world, to thee will scarce be given a tomb. Art ready for this? Col. I am ready. So that I find the world of which I've dreamed for years, and wear the deathless laurel, I'll endure and suffer all. 2d Spirit [places crown upon Columbus's head; soft music]. Then receive the crown, won through suffering and tears; a crown f hat brighter grows with every passing year, till, in the ages yet to AND RECITATIONS. 43 :ome, the name of him who dared the perils of an unknown sea to hid another world — thy name, Columbus, shall be writ in lines if light upon the hearts of men. [Spirits pass out.] Icene V. — Sailors on board the Santa Maria. A small room, with coils of rope on the floor , one or two hammocks may hang from the walls. Pedro. 'Tis now full twenty days since we had sight of land. Kodriguez. Ay, Pedro, and my heart grows faint within me. I't well to follow this mad Admiral to what may be but certain leath? Garcia. What thinkest thou of this wind that wafts us ever westward? Ped. Dost think it never blows toward the east? Rod. It seemeth not. For twenty days it hath blown ever west, tnd much I fear 'tis sent by Satan, and bloweth where he lists. If his be so, we'll ne'er again behold the coast of Spain. Ped. Didst note the needle of the compass? Now it no longer lointeth to the star that's set to guide men on the pathless deep. Rod. Ay, marry, that I did. But there's naught to fear from ihat, so says the Admiral. He hath explained it all. Gar. He's a brave one to explain. He maketh darkness seem ,s light. Ped. I care naught for his smooth words. He's an ambitious aadman, who, to make himself notorious, will fling our lives ,way. Rod. He careth naught for all our sufferings and the dangers ihat beset us. Gar. But he shares them all. Ped. What matters that? He is content to sacrifice his own life nd that of others, so he but gain distinction. Rod. Already are we sailing where ship hath never sailed before, nd if we continue in this mad expedition we become the authors f our own destruction. [Enter Matheos.] Welcome, good latheos. How much farther, thinkest thou, are we to go in search f imaginary lands? 44 WERNER'S READINGS Matheos. I may not read the riddle thou propoundest. Tl Admiral would have us go until our water and provisions all a gone, and then with naught to eat or drink 'tis too late to retun Rod. Well — then we'll go no farther. Math, [shaking head doubtfully]. That's well said, Eodrigue couldst thou but keep thy word, but the Admiral will never tui back until he finds the land. Why, 'twas but yestere'en he saitl " A gracious sovereign sent me to seek India, and I go not back ti her will be accomplished." Ped. But he must turn back. Knows he not our lives depeu on it? Math. What matters that to him? To him we are but as tl drops that make the ocean. So there be left enough to bear h shi]), the sun may drink the rest, 'tis naught to him. He'll n( turn back. Eod. Then if he refuse Gar. What then? Rod. The sea will tell no tales. Gar. [anxiously]. Nay, nay, Rodriguez, thou dost not mean i harm the Admiral? Rod. Harm him? Not I. But, while contemplating the star he may fall overboard. Such things have been before. Should h do so, we may return to Spain. Math. We'll give him yet another day to find this phantoi land; then if it does not appear, this " star-gazer " shall change h course for Spain, or — the ship sails back without him. Scene VI. — Deck of the Santa Maria. The stage should be made t represent the deck of a ship as nearly as possible. Columbus stanc at one side apparently looking off across the sea. Col. For three days now the signs of land have grown apace Birds sing upon our decks as in their native forests, and 'twas bn yesterday a branch of thorn thick with red berries floated by. Tc day within the waters we found a quaintly carved staff. The me no longer murmur and complain, but each is eager for first sight c AND RECITATIONS. 45 land. To him who sees it first a yearly pension and a velvet doublet is the reward. [A shout from the Sailors. Matheos approaches.] What Avouldst thou, good Matheos? What mean those shouts of joy? Math. My Lord Admiral, beside the ship but now we did espy a goodly branch drifted from that unknown land toward which we hasten, and, hidden 'mong its leaves, a nest with four white speckled eggs. On these the mother bird doth sit as calmly as within her own green wood. Col. That shows that land is near. To-morrow's sun, methinks, will show us where it lies. [Sailors gather about Columbus mak- ing gestures. ] Col. What means this wild commotion? What would ye now? Why are ye here? Sailors [throwing themselves at his feet]. Your pardon, Lord Admiral, for wicked thoughts and bad, seditious words. AVe see that thou art right. Our wisdom is no match for thine. Col. Thou hast my pardon, friends. We all do err, and he who repents should ever be forgiven. Methinks, indeed, the land is near; and so each one should return to duty. [Sailors go to (lifer- ent parts of declc. ] " Nothing succeeds like success." But yesterday these men could scarce refrain their hands from me. My life was hardly worth the purchase. To-day, as prospects brighten, they would fawn on me, in hope of some reward. But [starting forward- and shading eyes with hands] what is that? [Beckons to sailor.] Rodriguez, hasten thither. Dost thou see aught in the distance? Rod. Ay, my Lord Admiral, methinks I see a light. All rush to the spot. ] 1st Sailor. I see it, too. There, 'tis gone! 2d Sailor. Nay, there it comes again! All [excitedly]. The land is near! Col. Unless our fancy doth deceive us, methinks it is. If so, then God be praised. Our trials now are ended, the long-sought goal is won at last. Let the watch be set. No sleep for us to-night. The morrow's light, God grant, may show us land. 46 WERNER'S READINGS [Columbus paces slowly bach and forth. TJie Sailors fall on their knees and chant, " Glory be to God in Heaven and upon Earth." As they finish a sound of guns is heard outside.'] Sailors. What is that? Col. 'Tis the Pinta's gun! Her captain's seen the land and doth announce it to us. [All rush to side of vessel, cry big "Land! land I land!" Sound of music outside, and voices singing, " Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean."] AND RECITATIONS. 47 Period II. — SETTLEMENTS. 1609— 1681. THE COLONIZATION OF AMERICA. WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. IT is not easy at this time to comprehend the impulse given to Europe by the discovery of America. It was not the gradual acquisition of some border territory, a province or a kingdom, that had been gained, but a new world that was now thrown open to the European. The races of animals, the mineral treasures, the vege- table forms, and the varied aspects of nature, man in the different phases of civilization, filled the mind with entirely new sets of ideas, that changed the habitual current of thought and stimulated it to indefinite conjecture. The eagerness to explore the wonderful eecrets of the new hemisphere became so active that the princi- pal cities of Spain were, in a manner, depopulated, as emigrants thronged one after another to take their chance upon the deep. It was a world of romance that was thrown open ; for, whatever might be the luck of the adventurer, his reports on his return were tinged with a coloring of romance that stimulated still higher the sensitive fancies of his countrymen, and nourished the chimerical sentiments of an age of chivalry. They listened with attentive ears to tales of Amazons, which seemed to realize the classic legends of antiquity; to stories of Patagonian giants; to flaming pictures of an El Dorado (Golden Land) where the sands sparkled with gems, and golden pebbles as large as birds' eggs were dragged in nets out of the rivers. In this realm of enchantment all the accessories served to maintain the illusion. The simple natives, with their de- 48 WERNER'S READINGS fenceless bodies arid rude weapons, were no match for the European warrior, armed to the teeth in mail. The odds were as great as those found in any legend of chivalry, where the lance of the good knight overturned hundreds at a touch. The perils that lay in the discoverer's path, and the sufferings he had to sustain, were scarcely inferior to those that beset the knight-errant. Hunger and thirst and fatigue, the deadly effluvia of the morass, with its swarms of venomous insects, the cold of the mountain snows, and the scorch- ing sun of the tropics — these were the lot of every cavalier who came to seek his fortunes in the New World. It was the reality of romance. The life of the Spanish adventurer was one chapter more, and not the least remarkable, in the chronicles of knight- errantry. The character of the warrior took somewhat of the exaggerated coloring shed over his exploits. Proud and vain-glorious, swelled with lofty anticipations of his destiny and an invincible confidence in his own resources, no danger could appall and no toil could tire him. The greater the danger, indeed, the higher the charm; for his soul revelled in excitement, and the enterprise without peril wanted that spur of romance which was necessary to rouse his energies into action. Yet in the motives of action meaner influ- ences were strangely mingled with the loftier, the temporal with the spiritual. Gold was the incentive and the recompense, and in the pursuit of it his inflexible nature rarely hesitated as to the means. His courage was sullied with cruelty — the cruelty that flowed equally, strange as it may seem, from his avarice and his religion; religion as it was understood in that age — the religion of the Cru- sader. It was the convenient cloak for a multitude of sins which covered them even from himself. The Castilian, too proud for hypoc- risy, committed more cruelties in the name of religion than were ever practiced by the pagan idolater or the fanatical Moslem. The burning of the infidel was a sacrifice acceptable to heaven, and the conversion of those who survived amply atoned for the foulest offences. It is a melancholy and mortifying consideration that the most uncompromising spirit of intolerance — the spirit of the AND RECITATIONS. 49 Inquisitor at home and of the Crusader abroad — should have emanated from a religion which preached " peace upon earth, and good- will toward man! " What a contrast did these children of Southern Europe present to the Anglo-Saxon races who scattered themselves along the great northern division of the Western Hemisphere! For the principle of action with these latter was not avarice, nor the more specious pretext of proselytism, but independence — independence religious and political. To secure this, they were content to earn a bare subsistence by a life of frugality and toil. They asked nothing from the soil but the reasonable returns of their own labor. No golden visions threw a deceitful halo around their path, and beckoned them onward through seas of blood to the subversion of an unoffending dynasty. They were content with the slow but steady progress of the social polity. They patiently endured the privations of the wilderness, watering the tree of liberty with their tears and with the sweat of their brows, till it took deep root in the land, and sent up its branches high toward the heavens; while the communi- ties of the neighboring continent, shooting up into the sudden splendors of a tropical vegetation, exhibited, even in their prime, the sure symptoms of decay. It would seem to have been especially ordered by Providence that the discovery of the two great divisions of the American hemi- sphere should fall to the two races best fitted to conquer and col- onize them. Thus the northern section was consigned to the Anglo-Saxon race, whose orderly, industrious habits found an ample field for development under its colder skies and on its more rugged soil; while the southern portion, with its rich tropical products and treasures of mineral wealth, held out the most attrac- tive bait to invite the enterprise of the Spaniard. How different might have been the result, if the bark of Columbus had taken a more northerly direction, as he at one time meditated, and landed its band of adventurers on the shores of what is now free America! 4 50 WERNER'S READINGS THE MAYFLOWER. EKASTUS W. ELLSWORTH. DOWN in the bleak December bay, The ghostly vessel stands away ; Her spars and halyards white with ice, Under the dark December skies. A hundred souls in company Have left the vessel pensively ; Have touched the frosty desert there, And touched it with the knees of prayer. And now the day begins to dip, The night begins to lower Over the bay, and over the ship Mayflower. Neither the desert nor the sea Imposes rites; their prayers are free. Danger and toil the wild imposes, And thorns must grow before the roses. And who are these? And what distress The savage-acred wilderness On mother, maid, and child may bring, Beseems them for a fearful thing! For now the day begins to dip, The night begins to lower Over the bay, and over the ship Mayflower. But Carver leads (in heart and.healtl A hero of the commonwealth) The axes that the camp requires To build the lodge and heap the fires; AND RECITATIONS. 51 And Standish from his warlike store Arrays his men along the shore, Distributes weapons resonant, And dons his harness militant. For now the day begins to dip, The night begins to lower Over the bay, and over the ship Mayflower. And Rose, his wife, unlocks a chest, She sees a Book in vellum dressed ; And drops a tear and kisses the tome, Thinking of England and of home. Might they, the Pilgrims, there and then Ordained to do the work of men, Have seen, in visions of the air, While pillowed on the breast of prayer (When now the day began to dip, The night began to lower Over the bay, and over the ship Mayflower) , The Canaan of their wilderness — A boundless empire of success — And seen the years of future nights Jewelled with myriad household lights; And seen the honey fill the hive ; And seen a thousand ships arrive; And heard the wheels of travel go — It would have cheered a thought of woe When now the day began to dip, The light began to lower Over the bay, and over the ship Mayflower. 52 WERNER'S READINGS THE PILGRIM FATHERS. ISAAC M'LELLAN, JK. THE pilgrim fathers — where are they? The waves that brought them o'er Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray, As they break along the shore ; Still roll in the bay, as they rolled that day When the Mayflower moored below, When the sea around was black with storms, And white the shore with snow. The mists that wrapped the pilgrim's sleep Still brood upon the tide; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep, To stay its waves of pride. But the snow-white sail, that he gave to the gale When the heavens looked dark, is gone; As an angel's wing, through an opening cloud, Is seen and then withdrawn. The pilgrim exile — sainted name! The hill, whose icy brow Kejoiced when he came in the morning's flame, In the morning's flame burns now; And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night On the hillside and the sea, Still lies where he laid his houseless head, But the pilgrim, where is he? The pilgrim fathers are at rest: When summer's throned on high, And the world's warm breast is in verdure dressed. Go stand on the hill where they lie: AND RECITATIONS. 53 The earliest ray of the golden day On that hallowed spot is cast, And the evening sun, as he leaves the world, Looks kindly on that spot last. The land is holy where they fought, And holy where they fell; For by their blood that land was bought, The land they loved so well. Then glory to that valiant band, The honored saviors of the land ! Oh ! few and weak their numbers were — A handful of brave men; But to their God they gave their prayer, And rushed to battle then. The God of battles heard their cry, And sent to them the victory. They left the ploughshare in the mould, Their flocks and herds without a fold, The sickle in the unshorn grain, The corn half garaered on the plain, And mustered, in their simple dress, For wrongs to seek a stern redress; To right those wrongs, come weal, come woe, To perish, or o'ercome their foe. And where are ye, fearless men, And where are ye to-day? I call : the hills reply again, That ye have passed away; That on old Bunker's lonely height, In Trenton, and in Monmouth ground, The grass grows green, the harvest bright, Above each soldier's mound. 54 WERNER'S READINGS The bugle's wild and warlike blast Shall muster them no more; An army now might thunder past, And they not heed its roar. The starry flag, 'neath which they fought In many a bloody fray, From their old graves shall rouse them not, For they have passed away. NEW ENGLAND. JAMES GATES PERCIVAL. HAIL to the land whereon we tread, Our fondest boast: The sepulchre of mighty dead, The truest hearts that ever bled, Who sleep on glory's brightest bed, A fearless host. No slave is here — our unchained feet Walk freely as the waves that beat Our coast. Our fathers crossed the ocean's wave To seek this shore; They left behind the coward slave To welter in his living grave. With hearts unbent, and spirits brave, They sternly bore Such toils as meaner souls had quelled; But souls like these, such toils impelled To soar. Hail to the morn, when first they stood On Bunker's height, And, fearless, stemmed the invading flood, AND RECITATIONS. 55 And wrote our dearest rights in blood, And mowed in ranks the hireling brood, In desperate fight! Oh! 'twas a proud, exalting day, For even our fallen fortunes lay In light. There is no other land like thee, No dearer shore; Thou art the shelter of the free; The home, the port of liberty Thou hast been, and shalt ever be, Till time is o'er. Ere I forget to think upon My land, shall mother curse the son She bore. Thou art the firm, unshaken rock, On which we rest; And, rising from thy hardy stock, Thy sons the tyrant's frown shall mock, And slavery's galling chains unlock, And free the oppressed; All who the wreath of freedom twine Beneath the shadow of their vine Are blest. We love thy rude and rocky shore, And here we stand. Let foreign navies hasten o'er, And on our heads their fury pour, And peal their cannons' loudest roar, And storm our land; They still shall find our lives are given To die for home, and leant on heaven Our hand. 56 WERNER'S READINGS THE FATHERS OF MEW ENGLAND. CHARLES SPRAGUE. BEHOLD! they come, those sainted forms, Unshaken through the strife of storms; Heaven's winter cloud hangs coldly down, And earth puts on its rudest frown; But colder, ruder was the hand That drove them from their oAvn fair land, Their own fair land — refinement's chosen seat, Art 's trophied dwelling, learning's green retreat, By valor guarded, and by victory crowned, For all but gentle charity renowned. With streaming eye, yet steadfast heart, Even from that land they dared to part, And burst each tender tie; Haunts where their sunny youth was passed, Homes where they fondly hoped at last In peaceful age to die. Friends, kindred, comforts, all they spurned — Their fathers' hallowed graves — And to a world of darkness turned, Beyond a world of waves. When Israel's race from bondage fled, Signs from on high the wanderers led; But here — heaven hung no symbol here, Their steps to guide, their souls to cheer; They saw, through sorrow's lengthening night, Naught but the fagot's guilty light; The cloud they gazed at was the smoke That round their murdered brethren broke; Nor power above, nor power below, Sustained them in their hour of woe; AND RECITATIONS. 57 A fearful path they trod, And dared a fearful doom, To build an altar to their God, And find a quiet tomb. Yet, strong in weakness, there they stand, On yonder ice-bound rock, Stern and resolved, that faithful band, To meet fate's rudest shock. Though anguish rends the father's breast For them, his dearest and his best, With him the waste who trod ; Though tears that freeze the mother sheds Upon her children's houseless heads, The Christian turns to God I In grateful adoration now, Upon the barren sands they bow. What tongue of joy e'er woke such prayer As bursts in desolation there? What arm of strength e'er wrought such power As waits to crown that feeble hour? There into life an infant empire springs! There falls the iron from the soul; There liberty's young accents roll Up to the King of kings! To fair creation's farthest bound That thrilling summons yet shall sound; The dreaming nations shall awake, And to their centre earth's old kingdoms shake. Pontiff and prince, your sway Must crumble from that day; Before the loftier throne of heaven The hand is raised, the pledge is given, One monarch to obey, one creed to own, That monarch, God; that creed, His word alone. 58 WERNER'S READINGS Spread out earth's holiest records here, Of days and deeds, to reverence dear. A zeal like this what pious legends tell? On kingdoms built In blood and guilt, The worshippers of vulgar triumph dwell; But what exploit with theirs shall page, Who rose to bless their kind, "Who left their nation and their age Man's spirit to unbind? Who boundless seas passed o'er, And boldly met, in every path, Famine and frost and heathen wrath, To dedicate a shore Where piety's meek train might breathe their vow, And seek their Maker with an unshamed brow; Where liberty's glad race might proudly come, And set up there an everlasting home? THE PILGRIM'S VISION. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. IN the hour of twilight shadows the Puritan looked out ; He thought of the " bloody savages" that lurked all round about. Of Wituwamet's pictured knife and Pecksnot's whooping shout- For the baby's limbs were feeble, though his father's arms were stout, His home was a freezing cabin, too bare for the hungry rat, Its roof was thatched with ragged grass, and bald enough of that. The hole that served for casement was glazed with an ancient hat. And the ice was gently thawing from the log whereon he sat. Along the dreary landscape his eyes went to and fro, The trees all clad in icicles, the streams that did not flow; AND RECITATIONS. 59 I sudden thought flashed o'er him — a dream of long ago — [e smote his leathern jerkin and murmured, " Even so! Come hither, God-be-glorified, and sit upon my knee; ehold the dream unfolding whereof I spake to thee y the winter's hearth in Leyden and on the stormy sea; rue is the dream's beginning — so may its ending be! il saw in the naked forest our scattered remnant cast, i screen of shivering branches between them and the blast; 'he snow was falling round them, the dying fell as fast, looked to see them perish, when lo ! the vision passed. .Again mine eyes were opened: The feeble had waxed strong; I'he babies had grown to sturdy men, the remnant was a throng; w shadowed lake and winding stream and all the shores along, I'he howling demons quaked to hear the Christian's godly song. They slept — the village fathers — by river, lake and shore, ^hen, far adown the steep of time, the vision rose once more. saw along the winter snow a spectral column pour, .nd high above their broken ranks a tattered flag they bore. Their leader rode before them, of bearing calm and high, 'he light of heaven's own kindling throned in his awful eye. 'hese were a nation's champions her dread appeal to try: ijod for the right!' I faltered, and lo! the train passed by. -Once more the strife is ended, the solemn issue tried, I'he Lord of hosts, His mighty arm has helped our Israel's side, fray stone and grassy hillock tell where our martyrs died, ut peaceful smiles the harvest and stainless flows the tide. j A crash as when some swollen cloud cracks o'er the tangled trees, fith side to side, and spar to spar, whose smoking decks are these? know St. George's blood-red cross, thou mistress of the seas, ut what is she whose streaming bars roll out before the breeze? 60 WERNER'S READINGS " Ah ! well her iron ribs are knit, whose thunders strive to quell The bellowing throats, the blazing lips, that pealed the Armada's knell ! The mist was cleared, a wreath of stars rose o'er the crimsoned swell, And wavering from its haughty peak the cross of England fell. " trembling faith, though dark the morn, a heavenly torch is thine ; While feebler races melt away, and paler orbs decline, Still shall the fiery pillar's ray along the pathway shine, To light the chosen tribe that sought this western Palestine. " I see the living tide roll on, it crowns with naming towers The icy capes of Labrador, the Spaniard's land of flowers. It streams beyond the splintered ridge that parts the northern showers, From eastern rock to sunset wave the continent is ours." He ceased — the grim old Puritan — then softly bent to cheer The pilgrim child, whose wasting face was meekly turned to hear And drew his toil-worn sleeve across to brush the manly tear From cheeks that never changed in woe, and never blanched in fear. The weary pilgrim slumbers, his resting-place unknown; His hands were crossed, his lids were closed, the dust was o'er hin strown ; The drifting soil, the mouldering leaf, along the sod were blown; His mound has melted into earth, his memory lives alone. So let it live unfading, the memory of the dead, Long as the pale anemone springs where their tears were shed, Or, raining in the summer's wind in flakes of burning red, The wild rose sprinkles with its leaves the turf where once they bled. Yea, when the frowning bulwarks that guard this holy strand, Have sunk beneath the trampling surge in beds of sparkling sand, While in the waste of ocean one hoary rock shall stand, Be this its latest legend — Here was the Pilgrim's land! AND RECITATIONS. 61 IN MEMORY OF THE PILGRIMS. GBENVILLE MELLEN. WAKE your harp's music! louder! higher! And pour your strains along; And smite again each quivering wire, In all the pride of song! Shout like those godlike men of old, Who, daring storm and foe, On this blest soil their anthem rolled, Two hundred years ago! From native shores by tempests driven, They sought a purer sky, And found beneath a milder heaven The home of liberty. An altar rose, and prayers ; a ray Broke on their night of woe — The harbinger of Freedom's day, Two hundred years ago! They clung around that symbol, too, Their refuge and their all; And swore, while skies and waves were blue, That altar should not fall. They stood upon the red man's sod, 'Neath heaven's unpillared bow, With home, a country, and a God, Two hundred years ago ! Oh, 'twas a hard, unyielding fate, That drove them to the seas; And Persecution strove with Hate To darken her decrees; 62 WERNERS READINGS But safe above each coral grave, Each blooming ship did go; A God was on the western wave, Two hundred years ago ! They knelt them on the desert sand, By waters cold and rude; Alone upon the dreary strand, Of ocean solitude ! They looked upon the high blue air, And felt their spirits glow; Resolved to live or perish there, Two hundred years ago! The warrior's red right arm was bared, His eye flashed deep and wild ; Was there a foreign footstep dared To seek his home and child? The dark chiefs yelled alarm, and swore The white man's blood should flow, And his hewn bones should bleach their shores, Two hundred years ago! But lo! the warrior's eye grew dim, His arm was left alone ; The still, black wilds which sheltered him No longer were his own ! Time fled, and on the hallowed ground His highest pine lies low, And cities swell where forests frowned Two hundred years ago ! Oh ! stay not to recount the tale, 'Twas bloody, and 'tis past ; The firmest cheek might well grow pale, To hear it to the last. AND RECITATIONS. 63 The God of heaven, who prospers us, Could bid a nation grow, And shield us from the red man's curse, Two hundred years ago ! Come, then, great shades of glorious men, From your still glorious grave ; Look on your own proud land again, bravest of the brave! We call you from each mouldering tomb, And each blue wave below, To bless the world ye snatched from doom, Two hundred years ago ! Then to your harps ; yet louder ! higher ! And pour your strains along; And smite again each quivering wire, In all the pride of song! Shout for those godlike men of old, Who, daring storm and foe, On this blest soil their anthem rolled, Two hundred years ago! 64 WERNER'S READINGS Period III.— FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR' 1690 — 1763. NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. CHAELES SPRAGUE. NOT many generations ago, where you now sit encircled wi all that exalts and embellishes civilized life, the rai thistle nodded in the wind and the wild fox dug his hole unscare Here lived and loved another race of beings. Beneath the san sun that rolls over your head the Indian hunter pursued the pan ing deer; gazing on the same moon that smiles for you, the Indii lover wooed his dusky mate. Here the wigwam blaze beamed < the tender and helpless, and the council-fire glared on the wise ai daring. Now, they dipped their noble limbs in your sedgy lake and now they paddled the light canoe along your rocky short Here they warred; the echoing whoop, the bloody grapple, tl defying death-song, all were here; and when the tiger-strife w over, here curled the smoke of peace. Here, too, they worshipped; and from many a dark bosom we up a fervent prayer to the Great Spirit. He had not written II laws for them on tables of stone, but He had traced them on tl tables of their hearts. The poor -child of nature knew not the G( of revelation, but the God of the universe he acknowledged in ever thing around. He beheld Him in the star that sank in beauty b hind his lonely dwelling; in the sacred orb that flamed on hi from His mid-day throne ; in the flower that snapped in the mor ing breeze; in the lofty pine that defied a thousand whirlwinds: the timid warbler that never left its native grove; in the fearlc AND RECITATIONS. 65 eagle, whose untired pinion was wet in clouds; in the worm that crawled at his feet; and in his own matchless form, glowing with a spark of that light, to whose mysterious source he bent in humble though blind adoration. And all this has passed away. Across the ocean came a pilgrim bark, bearing the seeds of life and death. The former were sown for you; the latter sprang up in the path of the simple native. Two hundred years have changed the character of a great con- tinent, and blotted forever from its face a whole peculiar people. Art has usurped the bowers of nature, and the anointed children of education have been too powerful for the tribes of the ignorant. Here and there a stricken few remain; but how unlike their bold, untamable progenitors. The Indian of falcon glance and lion bearing, the theme of the touching ballad, the hero of the pathetic tale, is gone, and his degraded offspring crawls upon the soil where he walked in majesty, to remind us how miserable is man when the foot of the conqueror is on his neck. As a race, they have withered from the land. Their arrows are broken, their springs are dried up, their cabins are in the dust. Their council-fire has long since gone out on the shore, and their Avar-cry is fast fading to the untrodden west. Slowly and sadly they climb the distant mountains, and read their doom in the setting sun. They are shrinking before the mighty tide which is pressing them away; they must soon'hear the roar of the last wave which will settle over them forever. Ages hence, the inquisitive white man, as he stands by some growing city, will ponder on the structure of their disturbed remains, and wonder to what manner of persons they belonged. They will live only in the songs and chronicles of their exterminators. Let these be faithful to their rude virtues as men, and pay due tribute to their unhappy fate as a people. C6 WERNER'S READINGS THE INDIANS. JOSEPH STORY. THERE is in the fate of these unfortunate beings much to awaken our sympathy, and much to disturb the sobriety of our judgment ; much which may be urged to excuse their own atroc- ities; much in their characters which betrays us into an invol- untary admiration. What can be more melancholy than their his- tory? By law of their nature, they seemed destined to a slow but sure extinction. Everywhere at the approach of the white man they fade away. We hear the rustling of their footsteps, like that of the withered leaves of autumn, and they are gone forever. They pass mournfully by us, and they return no more. Two centuries ago the smoke of their wigwams and the fires of their councils rose in every valley from Hudson's Bay to the farthest Florida, from the ocean to the Mississippi and the lakes. The shouts of victory and the war-dance rang through the mountains and the glades. The thick arrows and the deadly tomahawk whistled through the for- ests; and the hunter's trace and dark encampment startled the wild beasts in their lairs. The warriors stood forth in their glory. The young listened to the songs of other days. The mothers played with their infants, "and gazed on the scene with warm hopes of the future. The aged sat down; but they wept not. They should soon be at rest in fairer regions, where the Great Spirit dwelt in a home prepared for the brave, beyond the western skies. Braver men never lived ; truer men never drew the bow. They had cour- age and fortitude, and sagacity and perseverance beyond most of the human race. They shrank from no dangers, and they feared no hardships. If they had the vices of savage life they had the virtues also. They were true to their country, their friends, and their homes. If they forgave not injury, neither did they forget kindness. If their vengeance was terrible, their fidelity and gen- erosity were unconquerable also. Their love, like their hate, stopped not on this side of the grave. AND RECITATIONS. 6? But where are they? Where are the villagers, and warriors, and 'youth; the sachems and the tribes; the hunters and their families? ' They have perished. They are consumed. The wasting pestilence 1 has not alone done the mighty work. No, nor famine, nor war. There has been a mightier power, a moral canker, which has eaten into their heart-cores — a plague, which the touch of the white man communicated — a poison which betrayed them into a lingering ruin. The winds of the Atlantic fan not a single region which they may now call their own. Already the last feeble remnants of the race are preparing for their journey beyond the Mississippi. I see them leave their miserable homes — the aged, the helpless, the women, and the warriors — "few and faint, yet fearless still. " The i ashes are cold on their native hearths. The smoke no longer curls ! round their lowly cabins. They move on with a slow, unsteady sstep. The white man is upon their heels, for terror or despatch; but they heed him not. They turn to take a last look at their de- serted villages. They cast a last glance upon the graves of their fathers. They shed no tears; they utter no cries; they heave no groans. There is something in their hearts which passes speech. There is something in their looks, not of vengeance or submission, but of hard necessity, which stifles both; which chokes all utter- ance ; which has no aim nor method. It is courage absorbed in despair. They linger but for a moment. Their look is onward. They have passed the fatal stream. It shall never be repassed by them — no, never. Yet there lies not between us and them an im- passable gulf. They know and feel that there is for them still one remove farther, not distant, nor unseen. It is to the general burial-ground of their race. Eeason as we may, it is impossible not to read in such a fate much that we know not how to interpret ; much of provocation to cruel deeds and deep resentments ; much of apology for wrong and perfidy ; much of pity mingling with indignation; much of doubt and misgiving as to the past; much of painful recollections; much of dark forebodings. 68 WERNER'S READINGS INDIAN NAMES. LYDIA H. SIGOUKNEY. YE say they all have passed away — that noble race and brave, That their light canoes have vanished from off the crested wave ; That, 'mid the forests where they roamed, there rings no hunter's shout, But their name is on your waters — ye may not wash it out. 'Tis where Ontario's billow like ocean's surge is curled, Where strong Niagara's thunders wake the echo of the world; Where red Missouri bringeth rich tribute from the west, And Rappahannock sweetly sleeps on green Virginia's breast. Ye say their cone-like cabins, that clustered o'er the vale, Have fled away like withered leaves, before the autumn's gale; But their memory liveth on your hills, their baptism on your shore, Your everlasting rivers speak their dialect of yore. Old Massachusetts wears it upon her lordly crown, And broad Ohio bears it amid his young renown; Connecticut hath wreathed it where her quiet foliage waves, And bold Kentucky breathes it hoarse through all her ancient caves. Wachusett hides its lingering voice within his rocky heart, And Alleghany graves its tone throughout his lofty chart; Monadnock on his forehead hoar doth seal the sacred trust; Your mountains build their monument,though ye destroy their dust. Ye call those red-browed brethren the insects of an hour, Crushed like the noteless worm amid the regions of their power; Ye drive them from their fathers' lands, ye break of faith the seal, But can ye from the court of heaven exclude their last appeal? Ye see their unresisting tribes, with toilsome steps and slow, On through the trackless desert pass, a caravan of woe. Think ye the Eternal Ear is deaf? His sleepless vision dim? Think ye the soul's blood may not cry from that far land to Him? 7 AND RECITATIONS. 69 DEATH OF KING PHILIP. WASHINGTON IRVING. 1 7TTH a scanty band of followers, who still remained true to his / V desperate fortunes, the unhappy Philip wandered back to ount Hope, the ancient dwelling of his fathers. Here he lurked >out like a spectre, among scenes of former power and prosperity, )W bereft of home, of family, and friends. There needs no better cture of his destitute and piteous situation than that furnished t the homely pen of the chronicler, who is unwarily enlisting the elings of the reader in favor of the hapless warrior whom he wiles. " Philip," he says, " like a savage wild beast, having been unted by the English forces through the woods, above a hundred iiles backward and forward, at last was driven to his own den pon Mount Hope, where he retired, with a few of his best friends, lito a swamp which proved but a prison to keep him fast till the essengers of death came by divine permission to execute ven- 3ance upon him." Even in this last refuge of desperation and despair, a sullen randeur gathers round his memory. We picture him to ourselves, :ated among his careworn followers, brooding in silence over his lasted fortunes, and acquiring a savage sublimity from the wild- ess and dreariness of his lurking-place. Defeated, but not dis- mayed, crushed to the earth but not humiliated, he seemed to grow lore haughty beneath disaster, and to experience a fierce satisfac- on in draining the last dregs of bitterness. Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune, but great kinds rise above it. The very idea of submission awakened the rry of Philip, and he smote to death one of his followers who roposed an expedient of peace. The brother of the victim made is escape, and in revenge betrayed the retreat of his chieftain. . body of white men and Indians were immediately dispatched to ie swamp where Philip lay crouched, glaring with fury and des- pair. Before he was aware of their approach, they had begun to 70 WERNER'S READINGS surround him. In a little while he saw live of his trustiest followers laid dead at his feet; all resistance was vain; he rushed forth from his covert, and made a headlong attempt to escape, but was shot through the heart by a renegade Indian of his own nation. Such is the scanty story of the brave but unfortunate King Philip ; persecuted while living, slandered and dishonored when dead. If, however, we consider even the prejudiced anecdotes furnished us by his enemies, we may perceive in them traces of amiable and lofty character sufficient to awaken sympathy for his fate, and re- spect for his memory. We find that, amidst all the harassing cares and ferocious passions of constant warfare, he was alive to the softer feelings of connubial love and paternal tenderness, and to the generous sentiment of friendship. The captivity of his "beloved wife and only son" is mentioned with exultation as causing him poignant misery; the death of any near friend is triumphantly recorded as a new blow on his sensibilities; but the treachery and desertion of many of his followers, in whose affections he had con- fided, is said to have desolated his heart, and to have bereaved him of all further comfort. He was a patriot attached to his native soil, a prince true to his subjects and indignant of their wrongs, a soldier daring in battle, firm in adversity, patient of fatigue, of hunger, of every variety of bodily suffering, and ready to perish in the cause he had espoused. Proud of heart, and with an untamable love of natural liberty, he preferred to enjoy it among the beasts of the forest, or in the dismal and famished recesses of swamps and morasses, rather than bow his haughty spirit to submission, and live dependent and despised in the ease and luxury of the settlements. With heroic qualities and bold achievements that would have graced a civilized warrior, and have rendered him the theme of the poet and the historian, he lived a wanderer and a fugitive in his native land, and went down, like a lonely bark foundering amid darkness and tempest, without a pitying eye to weep his fall, or a friendly hand to re- cord his struggle. AND RECITATIONS. 71 THE INDIAN HUNTER. HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. WHEN the summer harvest was gathered in, And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin, And the ploughshare was in its furrow left, "Where the stubble land had been lately cleft, An Indian hunter with unstrung bow, Looked down where the valley lay stretched below. He was a stranger there, and all that day Had been out on the hills— a perilous way; But the foot of the deer was far and fleet, And the wolf kept aloof from the hunter's feet; And bitter feelings passed o'er him then, As he stood by the populous haunts of men. The winds of autumn came over the woods, As the sun stole out from their solitudes; The moss was white on the maple's trunk, And dead from its arms the pale vine shrunk; And ripened the mellow fruit hung, and red, Where the trees withered leaves around it shed. The foot of the reaper moved slow on the lawn, And the sickle cut down the yellow corn; The mower sung loud by the meadow side, "When the mists of evening were spreading wide; And the voice of the herdsman came up the lea, And the dance went round by the greenwood tree. Then the hunter turned away from that scene, Where the home of his fathers once had been, And heard, by the distant and measured stroke, That the woodman hewed down the giant oak; And burning thoughts flashed over his mind, Of the white man's faith and love unkind- 72 WERNER'S READINGS The moon of the harvest grew high and bright, As her golden horn pierced the cloud of white; A footstep was heard in the rustling brake, AVhere the beech overshadowed the misty lake, And a moaning voice, and a plunge from the shore— And the hunter was seen on the hills no more. When years had passed on, by that still lakeside The fisher looked down through the silver tide, And there, on the smooth yellow .sand displayed, A skeleton wasted and white was laid; And 'twas seen, as the waters moved deep and slow, That the hand was still grasping a hunter's bow. THE CAPTURE OF TICONDEROGA. ETHAN" ALLEN. EVER since I arrived at the state of manhood, and acquainted myself with the general history of mankind, I have felt a sincere passion for liberty. The history of nations doomed to per- petual slavery in consequence of yielding up to tyrants their natural-born liberties, I read with a sort of philosophical horror; so that the first systematical and bloody attempt, at Lexington, to enslave America, thoroughly electrified my mind, and fully deter- mined me to take part with my country. While I was wishing for an opportunity to signalize myself in its behalf, directions were privately sent to me from the then colony (now state) of Connecticut, to raise the Green Mountain boys, and, if possible, with them to surprise and take the fortress of Ticonderoga. This enterprise I cheerfully undertook: and after first guarding all the several passes that led thither, to cut off all intelligence between the garrison and the country, made a forced march from Bennington, and arrived at the lake opposite to Ticonderoga on the evening of the ninth day of May, 1775, with two hundred and thirty valiant AND RECITATIONS. 73 Green Mountain boys. It was with, the utmost difficulty that I procured boats to cross the lake. However, I landed eighty-three men near the garrison, and sent boats back for the rear-guard, commanded by Col. Seth Warner. But the day began to dawn, .and I found myself under the necessity to attack the fort before the rear could cross the lake; and, as it was viewed hazardous, I harangued the officers and soldiers in the manner following: " Friends and fellow-soldiers : — You have, for a number of years past, been a scourge and terror to arbitrary power. Your valor has been famed abroad and acknowledged, as it appears by the advice and orders to me from the General Assembly of Connecticut to surprise and take the garrison now before us. I now propose to advance before you and, in person, conduct you through the i wicket-gate ; for we must this morning either quit our pretensions Ito valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few minutes; and, i inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the bravest i men would dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary to his swill. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelocks." The men being, at this time, drawn up in three ranks, each poised his firelock. I ordered them to face to the right, and, at the head of the centre file, marched them immediately to the wicket-gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry posted, who instantly snapped his ? fusee at me. I ran immediately toward him, and he retreated through the covered way into the parade within the garrison, gave a halloo, and ran under a bomb-proof. My party, who followed me into the fort, I formed on the parade in such a manner as to face the two barracks, which faced each other. The garrison being asleep, except the sentries, we gave three huzzas which greatly surprised them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my officers with a charged bayonet, and slightly wounded him. My first thought was to kill him with my sword; but, in an instant, I altered the design and fury of my blow to a slight cut on the side of his head, upon which he dropped his gun and asked quarter, which I readily granted him, and demanded of him the place where the commanding officer slept. He showed me 74 WERNERS READINGS a pair of stairs in the front part of the garrison, which led up to a second story in said barrack, to which I immediately repaired, and ordered the commander, Capt. De la Place, to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole garrison; at which the Captain came immediately to the door with his breeches in his hand. When I ordered him to deliver me the fort instantly, he asked me by what authority I demanded it. I answered him, "In the name of the great Jehovah, and the Continental Congress." The authority of the Congress being very little known at that time, he began to speak again; but I interrupted him, and, with my drawn sword over his head, again demanded an immediate surrender of the garrison, with which he then complied, and ordered his men to be forthwith paraded without arms, as he had given up the garrison. In the mean time, some of my officers had given orders, and, in consequence thereof, sundry of the barrack doors were beat down, and about one-third of the garrison imprisoned, which consisted of the said commander, a Lieut. Feltham, a conductor of artillery, a gunner, two sergeants, and forty-four rank and file ; about one hun- dred pieces of cannon, one thirteen-inch mortar, and a number of swivels. This surprise was carried into execution in the gray of the morn- ing of the tenth of May, 1775. The sun seemed to rise that morn- ing with a superior lustre; and Ticonderoga and its dependencies smiled to its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bowl, and wished success to Congress, and the liberty and freedom of America. THE CAPTURE OF QUEBEC WILLIAM WARBURTOK. THE closing scene of French dominion in Canada was marked by circumstances of deep and peculiar interest. The pages of romance can furnish no more striking episode than the battle of Quebec. The skill and daring of the plan which brought on AND RECITATIONS. 75 the combat, and the success and fortune of its execution, are un- paralleled. A broad, open plain, offering no advantages to either party, was the field of fight. The contending armies were nearly : equal in military strength, if not in numbers. The chiefs of both were already men of honorable fame. France trusted firmly in the wise and chivalrous Montcalm. England trusted hopefully in the young, heroic Wolfe. The magnificent stronghold which was staked upon the issue of the strife stood close at hand. For miles and miles around, the prospect extended over as fair a land as ever rejoiced the sight of man — mountain and valley, forest and waters, city and solitude, grouped together in forms of almost ideal beauty. Quebec stands on the slope of a lofty eminence on the left bank of the St. Law- irence. That portion of the heights nearest the town on the west iis called the Plains of Abraham. Wolfe had discovered a narrow ipath winding up the side of the steep precipice from the river. IFor miles on either side there was no other possible access to the heights. Up the narrow path Wolfe decided to secretly lead the whole army, and make the plains his battle-ground. Great prep- arations were made throughout the fleet and the army for the decisive movement, but the plans were all kept secret. At nine o'clock at night, on the 13th of September, 1759, the first division of the army, 1,000 strong, silently embarked in flat- bottomed boats. The soldiers were in high spirits. Wolfe led in person. About an hour before daylight, the flotilla dropped down with the ebb-tide in the friendly shade of the overhanging cliffs. The rowers scarcely stirred the waters with their oars; the soldiers sat motionless. Not a word was spoken save by the }^oung general. He, as a midshipman on board of his boat afterward related, re- peated in a low voice, to the officers by his side, this stanza of Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard:" "The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour — The paths of glory lead but to the grave. " 76 WERNER'S READINGS As he concluded the beautiful verses, he said, " Now, gentlemen, I would rather be the author of that poem than to take Quebec! " But while Wolfe thus gave vent to the intensity of his feelings In the poet's words, his eye was constantly bent upon the dark out- line of the heights under which he was hurrying. At length he recognized the appointed spot and leaped ashore. Some of the leading boats, conveying the light company of the 78th Highlanders, had, in the mean time, been carried about two hundred yards lower down by the strength of the tide. These Highlanders, under Captain Macdonald, were the first to land. Immediately over their heads hung a woody precipice, without path or track upon its rocky face. On the summit, a French sen- tinel marched to and fro, still unconscious of their presence. Without a moment's hesitation, Macdonald and his men dashed at the height. They scrambled up, holding on by rocks and branches of trees, guided only by the stars that shone over the top of the cliff. Half of the ascent was already won when, for the first time, " Qui vive?" broke the silence of the night. "La France," an- swered the Highland captain, with ready self-possession, and the sentry shouldered his musket and pursued his round. Montcalm commanded the attack in person. Not fifteen minutes had elapsed since he had first moved on his line of battle, and already all was lost. But the gallant Frenchman, though ruined, was not dis- mayed. He rode through the broken ranks, cheered them with his voice, encouraged them by his dauntless bearing, and, aided by a small redoubU| even succeeded in once again presenting a front to his enemy. Wolfe seized the opportunity of the hesitation in the hostile ranks, and ordered the whole British line to advance. At first they moved forward with majestic regularity, receiving and paying back with deadly interest the volleys of the French ; but soon the ardor of the soldiers broke through the restraints of dis- cipline — they increased their pace to a run, rushing over the dying and the dead, and sweeping the living enemy from their path. Wolfe was soon wounded in the body, but he concealed his suf- AND RECITATIONS. 77 fering, for his work was not yet accomplished. Again a ball from the redoubt struck him in the breast. He reeled to one side, but at the moment it was not generally observed. " Support me," said he to a grenadier officer who was close at hand, " that my brave fellows may not see me fall." In a few seconds, however, he sank to the ground, and was borne a little to the rear. The brief struggle fell heavily upon the British, but was ruinous to the French. They wavered under the carnage; the columns which death had disordered were soon broken and scattered. Montcalm, with a courage that rose above the wreck of hope, gal- loped through the groups of his stubborn veterans who still made head against the enemy, and strove to show a front of battle. His efforts were vain. The head of every formation was swept away before that terrible musketry. In a few minutes the French gave way in all directions. Just then their gallant general fell, with a mortal wound; from that time all was utter rout. While the British troops were carrying all before them, their young general's life was ebbing fast away. From time to time he tried, with his faint hand, to clear away the death-mist that gathered before his sight ; but the efforts seemed vain, for pres- ently he lay back, and gave no signs of life beyond a heavy breathing and an occasional groan. Meantime the French had given way, and were flying in all directions. A grenadier officer, seeing this, called out to those around him, " See! they run! " The words caught the ear of the dying man. He raised himself, like one aroused from sleep, and eagerly asked, "Who runs?" "The enemy, sir," answered the officer; " they give way everywhere." "Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton," said Wolfe; "tell him to march Webbe's regiment with all speed down to the St. Charles Eiver, to cut off the retreat." His voice grew faint as he spoke, and he turned on his side as if seeking an easier position. When he had given this last order his eyes closed in death. Wolfe's body was embalmed, and borne to the river for conveyance to Eng- land. The army escorted it in solemn state to the beach. They 78 WERNER'S READINGS mourned their young general's death as sincerely as they had fol- lowed him in battle bravely. THE INDIAN WARRIOR'S LAST SONG. J. HOWARD WERT. THE wood is dyed with varied hue Of olive, blent with azure blue Of crescent sky, that, bending low, Has kissed the burnished autumn's glow; And far beyond, the dark blue top Of Tuscarora's mountains prop The wide-extended sheet of sky, Where snow-winged cloudlets swiftly fly. The falling leaf has spread adown Upon the earth, in red and brown, A carpet of its own wild wealth ; Thereon, with steps of springing stealth, An Indian hunter bounds along, Unconscious of the blackbird's song; Its melody falls cold and drear Upon his once retentive ear. His memory is with the past, Before the pale-faced warrior cast A cloud of gloom upon his race — Had seized the red man's hunting-place, And cried : " These acres are my own, These woods belong to me alone; Toward the west now turn thy face, Where dwell a fierce and hostile race." A nameless horror racked his brain, A struggle with heart-gnawing pain: AND RECITATIONS. 79 " Oh, for the battle-cry again, To ring throughout this fertile plain! To see the white man's wigwam burn; To see his face still whiter turn As rings the dreadful shout for blood, From mount to mount, and wood to wood ! As shrieks his scalped and bleeding squaw, And turns his proud and fierce huzza To plaiutive cries of frenzied woe! To see, beneath the red man's blow, His children's life-blood freely flow! Ah, that would pay for years of shame, Without a tribe, without a name, Could I again behold him die, Beneath our nation's arching sky! "But ah, my warriors, where are ye? Ye sleep beneath the greenwood tree! The grass o'ergrows each silent grave! Launched on the rapid, tideless wave, You've reached the happy hunting-land, Where we, the Spirit's favored band, Shall bend forevermore the bow, And safely conquer every foe ! " Too long I linger here below, I come, I come, ye warrior braves; I die upon your grass-grown graves! " 80 WERNER'S READINGS Period IV. —REVOLUTIONARY WAR DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 1764— 1782. QUARREL OF SQUIRE BULL AND HIS SO> JONATHAN. JAMES KIRKE PAULDING. JOHN BULL was a choleric old fellow, who held a good manor u the middle of a great mill-pond, and which, by reason of it being qnite surrounded by water, was generally called " Bullocl Island." Bull was an ingenious man, an exceedingly good black smith, a dexterous cutler, and a notable Aveaver besides. He als brewed capital porter, ale, and small beer, and was, in fact, a sor of Jack-of -all- trades, and good at each. In addition to these, he was a hearty fellow, a jolly companion and passably honest, as the times go. But what tarnished a] these qualities was an exceedingly quarrelsome, overbearing dispo sition, which was always getting him into some scrape or other. The truth is, he never heard of a quarrel going on among hi neighbors but his fingers itched to take a part in it; so that h was hardly ever seen without a broken head, a black eye, or bloody nose. Such was Squire Bull, as he was commonly called by the countri people, his neighbors — one of those odd, testy, grumbling, boast ing old codgers, that never get credit for what they are becaus they are always pretending to be what they are not. The squir was as tight a hand to deal with indoors as out; sometimes treat AND HEC1TATI0NS. m 81 ing his family as if they were not the same flesh and blood, when they happened to differ with him in certain matters. One day he got into a dispute with his youngest son, Jonathan, who was familiarly called Brother Jonathan, as to whether churches ought to be called churches or meeting-houses, and whether steeples were not an abomination. The squire, either having the worst of the argument, or being naturally impatient of contradiction, I can't tell which, fell into a great passion, and de- clared he would physic such notions out of the boy's noddle. So he went to some of his doctors, and got them to draw up a prescription, made up of thirty-nine different articles, many of them bitter enough to some palates. This he tried to make Jona- than swallow, and finding he made wry faces and would not do it, fell upon him and beat him soundly. After this, he made the house so disagreeable to him, that Jonathan, though as hard as a pine-knot and as tough as leather, could bear it no longer. Taking his gun and his axe, he put himself into a boat and paddled over the mill-pond to some new lands to which the squire pretended to have some sort of claim. Jonathan intended to settle the lands, and build a meeting-house without a steeple, as soon as he grew rich enough. When he got over he found that the land was quite in a state of nature, covered with wood, and inhabited only by wild beasts. But, being a lad of spirit, he took his axe on one shoulder and his gun on the other, marched into the thickest of the wood, and, clearing a place, built a log hut. Pursuing his labors and hand- ling his axe like a notable woodman, he in a few years cleared the land, which he laid out into thirteen good farms; and building himself a large house, which he partly finished, began to be quite snug and comfortable. But Squire Bull, who was getting old and stingy, and besides was in great want of money, on account of his having lately been made to pay heavy damages for assaulting his neighbors and breaking their heads — the squire, I say, finding Jonathan was getting well-to-do in the world, began to be very much troubled about his welfare; 6 82 • WERNER'S READINGS so he demanded that Jonathan should pay him a good rent for the land which he had cleared and made good for something. He made up I know not what claim against him, and under different pretences managed to pocket all Jonathan's honest gains. In fact, the poor lad had not a shilling left for holiday occasions; and had it not been for the filial respect he felt for the old man, he would certainly have refused to submit to such impositions. But for all this, in a little time Jonathan grew up to be very large of his age, and became a tall, stout, double-jointed, broad-footed cub of a fellow, awkward in his gait and simple in his appearance, but having a lively, shrewd look, and giving the promise of great strength when he should get his growth. He was rather an odd looking chap, in truth, and had many queer ways; but everybody who had seen John Bull saw a great likeness between them, and declared he was John's own boy, a true chip of the old block. Like the old squire, he was apt to be blus- tering and saucy ; but, in the main, was a peaceable sort of careless fellow that would quarrel with nobody if you only let him alone. He used to dress in homespun trousers, and always wore a linsey- woolsey coat, the sleeves of which were so short that his hand and wrist came out beyond them, looking like a shoulder of mutton ; all of which was in consequence of his growing so fast that he outgrew his clothes. While Jonathan was coming up in this way Bull kept on pick- ing his pockets of every penny put into them; till at last one day, when the squire was even more than usually pressing in his demands, which he accompanied with threats, Jonathan started up in a passion, and threw the tea-kettle at the old man's head. The choleric Bull was hereupon exceedingly enraged, and, after calling the poor lad an undutiful, ungrateful, rebellious rascal, seized him by the collar, and forthwith a furious scuffle ensued. This lasted a long time ; for the squire, though in years, was a capital boxer. At last, however, Jonathan got him under, and before he would let him up, made him sign a paper giving up all claim to the farms, and acknowledging the fee-simple to be in Jonathan forever. AND RECITATIONS. 83 THE CHARTER OAK. GEORGE D. PRENTICE. [Sir Edmund Andros, who had been for some time governor of New York, was appointed by James II. governor also of New England. He arrived in Boston, 1686, and summoned the colonies to surrender their charters. The charter of Massachusetts was given up, but that of Connecti- cut was concealed by Captain Wadsworth in the hollow of an oak in Hartford. This tree was blown down in a storm in 1856. On the Rev- olution in England in 1688, Andros was sent back to England for trial.] TEEE of the olden time! A thousand storms Have hurried through thy branches. Centuries Have set their signets on thy trunk, and gone In silence o'er thee like the moonlight's mists, That move at evening o'er the battlements Of the eternal mountains ! And yet thou Shakest thy naked banner in the heavens As proudly still as when great Freedom first Crowned thee with deathless glory. Monument Of nations perished ! Since thy form first sprung From its green throne of forest, many a deep And burning tide of human tears has flowed Down to the ocean of the past, until Its every wave is bitterness, but thou Art reckless still ! No heart has ever throbbed Beneath thy silent breast, and though thy sighs Have mingled with the night-storm, they were not The requiem of the nations that have gone Down to the dust like thy own withered leaves Swept by the autumn tempest ! Ay, bloom on, Tree of the cloud and sun ! Gird on thy strength! Yet there will come a time when thou shalt sleep 84 WERNER'S READINGS Upon thy own hill-tomb. The marshalled storms Shall seek but find thee not, and the proud clime That long has been the consecrated home Of liberty and thee shall lie as erst In silent desolation! Not a sound Shall rise from all its confines, save the moan Of passing winds, the cloud's deep tone of fear, The noise of stormy waters, and the wild And fearful murmuring of the earthquake's voice. THE STAMP ACT. WILLIAM GRIMSHAW. [In 1765 was passed the Stamp Act, laying a duty on all paper used for instruments of writing, and declaring writings on unstamped materials null and void. This measure was vigorously opposed by Patrick Henry before the Assembly of Virginia. The Stamp Act was repealed in March, 1766, but a new tax was imposed in June, 1767. Soldiers were quartered in America, and quarrels were frequent between them and the populace. On March 5, 1770, occurred the Boston Massacre.] AT the time of that disastrous warfare, in which Washington rose upon the ruins of the incautious Braddock, resolutions had passed the British Parliament for laying a stamp duty in America; but they were not followed immediately by any legis- lative act. The declaratory opinion of that body met with no opposition on either side of the Atlantic, because the " omnipo- tence of Parliament " was then a familiar phrase; but afterward, when the measure was examined, it was better understood, and con- stitutional objections were urged by many sagacious statesmen, both in England and America. But, notwithstanding the powerful reasons offered against this unjust and hazardous experiment, George Grenville, impelled by a partiality for a long-cherished scheme, in the following year, 1765, again brought into the House of Commons this unpopular bill, and succeeded in its enactment. By this, the instruments AND RECITATIONS. 85 writing in daily use amongst a commercial people were to be 11 and void, unless executed on paper or parchment stamped with pecific duty. Law documents and leases, articles of apprentice- p and contracts, protests and bills of sale, newspapers and ad- tisements, almanacs and pamphlets — all must contribute to the tish treasury. When the measure was examined, Charles Townshend delivered a cch in its favor, in concluding which he said: "Will these lericans, children planted by our care, nourished by our indul- ice till they are grown up to a degree of strength and opulence, I protected by our arms — will they grudge to contribute their ;e to relieve us from the weight of that heavy burden under ich we lie? " They planted by your care!" replied Colonel Barre. "No; ;y were planted by your oppressions. They fled from tyranny lan uncultivated, inhospitable country, where they exposed mselves to all the hardships to which human nature is liable; ., amongst others, to the cruelty of a savage foe, the most subtle, .., I will take it upon me to say, the most formidable, people the face of this earth. And yet, actuated by principles of true ;lish liberty, they met all hardships with pleasure, compared h what they had suffered in their own country, from the hands hose that should have been their friends. They nourished by your indulgence! They grew up by your lect. As soon as you began to extend your care, that care was )layed in sending persons to rule them, in one department and an- 3r, who were, perhaps, the deputies of deputies to some members he House, sent to spy out their liberties, to misrepresent their ons, and to prey upon their substance; men whose behavior, on ly occasions, has caused the blood of those sons of freedom to i)il within them; men promoted to the highest seats of justice, e who, to my knowledge, were glad, by going to a foreign atry, to escape their being brought to the bar of a court of ice in their own. They protected by your arms! They have nobly taken up arms 86 WERNER'S READINGS in your defence, have exerted a valor amidst their constant labor ous industry for the defence of a country whose frontier ws drenched in blood, while its interior yielded all its little savings i your emolument. And, believe me, that the same spirit of fret dom which actuated these people at first will accompany thei still. But prudence forbids me to explain myself further. " God knows I do not, at this time, speak from any motives c party heat. I deliver the genuine sentiments of my heart. Hov ever superior to me, in general knowledge and experience, the jr( spectable body of this House may be, yet I claim to know more c America than most of you, having seen that country, and bee conversant with its people. They are, I believe, as truly loyal a any subjects the king has; but a people jealous of their liberties and who will vindicate them, if ever they should be violated. Bu the subject is too delicate; I will say no more." The night after the bill passed, Dr. Franklin wrote to Mi Charles Thomson: "The sun of liberty is set; you must light u the candles of industry and economy." Mr. Thomson answered: " I was apprehensive that other light would be the consequence, and I foresee the opposition that wi be made." THE ELOQUENCE OF REVOLUTIONARY PERIODS. EUFUS CHOATE. IF you bear in mind that the aim of deliberative eloquence i to persuade to an action, and that to persuade to an actioi it must be shown that to perform it will gratify some one of th desires, or affections, or sentiments, then I say that the capita peculiarity of the eloquence of all times of revolution is that t\v actions it persuades to are the highest and most heroic which mei can do, and the passions it would inspire in order to persuade then are the most lofty which man can feel. Hence are his topic AND RECITATIONS. 87 fi large, simple, intelligible, affecting. Hence are his views broad, ^impressive, popular; all is elemental, intense, practical, unquali- I fied, undoubting. * It is the rallying cry of patriotism, of liberty in the sublim- ■) est crisis of the state — of man. It is a deliberation of empire, of glory, of existence on which they come together. To be or not to (|>be, — that is the question. Shall the children of the men of Mar- iathon become slaves of Philip? Shall the majesty of the Senate and people of Rome stoop to wear the chains forged by the mili- tary executors of the will of Julius Caesar? Shall the assembled representatives of France, just waking from her sleep of ages to claim the rights of man, — shall they disperse, their work undone, 'their work just commencing? Shall Ireland bound upward from her long prostration and cast from her the last link of the British chain? Shall the thirteen Colonies become and be free and inde- pendent states, and come, unabashed, unterrified, an equal into uji the majestic assembly of the nations? These are the thoughts with which all bosoms are distended and ^oppressed. Filled with these, and with these flashing in every eye, swelling every heart, pervading all ages, all orders, like a visi- tation, an unquenchable public fire, men come together — the thou- sands of Athens around the Bema, or in the Temple of Dionysius; the people of Rome in the Forum, the Senate in that council chamber of the world; the masses of France, as the spring-tide, into her gardens of the Tuileries, her club-rooms, her hall of the Convention; the representatives, the genius, the grace, the beauty | of Ireland into the Tuscan Gallery of her House of Commons; the iji delegates of the Colonies into the Hall of Independence in Phila- iofddelphia, — thus men come, in an hour of revolution, to hang upon ilflthe lips from which they hope, they need, they demand to hear Iplhe things which belong to their national salvation, hungering for iwphe bread of life. ie|i And then, and thus, comes the orator of that time, kindling with erin fire ; sympathizing with that great beating heart; charged with the ii(l very mission of life, yet unassured whether they will bear or forbear; 88 WERNER' S READINGS transcendent good within their grasp, yet a possibility that the fatal and critical opportunity of salvation will be wasted; the last evils of men and of nations overhanging, yet the siren song of peace, peace when there is no peace, chanted madly by some voice of sloth or fear, — there and thus the orators of revolutions come' to work their work! Actions, not law nor policy, whose growth and fruits are to be slowly evolved by time and calm; actions daring, doubtful, but instant; the new things of a new world, — these are what the speaker counsels; large, elementary, gorgeous ideas of right, of equality, of independence, of liberty, of progress. These are the: principles from which he reasons, when he reasons; these are the pinions of the thought on which he soars and stays. Directness, plainness, a narrow range of topics, few details, few but grand ideas, a headlong tide of sentiment and feeling; vehement, indignant, and reproachful reasonings ; an example from Plutarch ; a sentence from Tacitus; thoughts going forth as ministers of nature in robes 1 of light and with arms in their hands; thoughts that breathe and words that burn, — these vaguely, approximately, express the general type of all this speech. THE JOSHUA OF 1776. W. K. KOSE. A HOOF-BEAT clatter down the road, a hundred years ago, Foretold through Carolina woods the coming of the foe; In dusty clouds they swept along, while, here and there, were seen! A scarlet coat, a tossing plume, a bit of sabre sheen ; Well-mounted men, hard riders all, a scourge by night and day — | The cruel Tarleton and his band were on a wild foray. No quarter now for patriot souls, for Tarleton, in his wrath, With blazing ricks and ruined homes will work his cruel path! The hoof-beats echo far ahead with muffled, throbbing hum, Until unto a modest home at last they faintly come ; AND RECITATIONS. 89 bjfet though the sound is faint, it brings a woman to the door With anxious face, which shows she dreads some misery in store. Me glances down the sandy road — she sees the dusty cloud, i iVith gleaming scarlet here and there — and then she cries aloud : if The British, George! They're coming fast! Unto the woods, oh, run! " V moment more a man springs forth with powder-horn and gun. I hurried kiss — a dozen strides — he enters in the wood — ■ if littie watching woman smiles, and thanks the Giver of all good, And turns and draws a bright-faced boy with tender clasp more 9 near : ,' My darling child, your father's safe, and now we've naught to fear!" Jp ride the sullen British band. " Dismount! " the leader cries; sf Surround the house and search it well ; we must not lose this prize. " kLfflcith heavy clank he enters in and scowls about the room,. Jilt burnished pans, and tall old clock, and ancient spinning-loom. ; Your husband, madam, where is he? Produce the rebel clown! lefuse, and, madam, here I swear to burn your dwelling down! iVhere is he hid? " She shakes her head, " I cannot, cannot tell;" me turns away to hide the tears that will unbidden well. ' So stubborn, eh? Now mark my words ! in but ten minutes more, It hour of three, by yonder clock, the torch will light your door!" le turns and calls to waiting men : " Search every crack and nook, bid if you fail, I'll start a light may serve to help us look! " le strides up to the window, theD, and looks out grim and sour Across the pleasant southern fields, and waits the fatal hour, flie woman's eyes are filled with woe, with pain her heart doth swell, bid yet between her ashy lips she sighs : " I cannot tell ! " Che moments fly; then Tarleton turns the tall old clock to see — 1 How's this? " he mutters, " time must lag; eight minutes still to three! " ^gain he gazes o'er the field with grim, unswerving eye, Vhile softly weeps the hapless dame, and fast the moments fly. 90 WERNER'S READINGS Then Tarleton swiftly turns again the tall old clock to see — " What juggling work is this? " he cries; "eight minutes still to three! " He stands and stares a moment, thus; then strides across the floor, With hasty gestures wide he throws the tall clock's ancient door — And there, within the narrow case, that bright-faced boy doth stand, Holding above his curly head a clock weight in each hand ! Grim Tarleton stares, the mother starts, the little lad alone As calmly stands within the clock as if to marble grown. A moment thus, then Tarleton roars: "Come forth, you little knave! " " No knave, sir," stoutly says the boy, " to try our home to save! " Grim Tarleton laughs, both loud and long; and "What's your name? " he cries. " 'Tis Joshua," the little man in accents clear replies. "Well named, well named," roars Tarleton, then — his laugh the room doth fill — " For though you didn't stop the sun, you've made old time stand still! Take care, madam, of this young scamp; with such cubs at youi back, We might as well give up the fight and take the homeward track.' He laughs again, and, laughing, clanks across the cottage floor; He mounts his horse; he cries " Away! " they never saw him more. LEXINGTON. PROSPER M. WETMOBE. »'"T~ , WAS calm at eve as childhood's sleep — • 1 The seraph rest that knows no care; Still as the slumbering summer deep When the blue heaven lies dream-like there, Blending with thoughts of that azure steep, The bright, the beautiful, and fair; AND RECITATIONS. 91 Like hopes that win from heaven their hue, As fair, as fleeting, and as few, Those tranquil Eden moments flew. The morn beheld the battle strife — The blow for blow, the life for life, The deed of daring done; The Rubicon of doubt was past — An empire lost, a birthright won — When Freedom's banner braved the blast, Flashing its splendors far and fast From crimsoned Lexington! There was a fearful gathering seen On that eventful day, And men were there who ne'er had been The movers in a fray. The peaceful and the silent came With darkling brows and flashing eyes, And breasts that knew not glory's flame Burned for the patriot sacrifice! No pomp of march, no proud array, There spake no trumpet sound, But they pressed, when the morn broke dim and gray, Dauntless that conflict ground; Sadly, as if some tie were broken ; Firmly, with eye and lip severe, Dark glances passed and words were spoken, As men will look and speak in fear. Yet coursed no coward blood Where that lone phalanx stood, Bock-like, but spirit-wrought. A strange, unwonted feeling crept Through every breast; all memories slept, While passion there a vigil kept O'er one consuming thought — To live a fettered slave,, Or fill a freeman's grave! 92 WERNER'S READINGS Though many an arm hung weaponless, The clenched fingers spake full well The stern resolve, the fearlessness, That clanger could not quell. Yet some, with hasty hand, The rust-encumbered brand Had snatched from its peaceful sleep, And held it now with a grasp that told A freeman's life should be dearly sold — 'Twas courage stern and deep! Proudly, as conquerors come From a field their arms have won, With bugle blast and beat of drum, The Briton host came on ! Their banners unfurled and gayly streaming; Their burnished arms in the sunlight gleaming; Fearless of evil, with valor high, And in reckless glee, they were idly dreaming Of a bloodless triumph nigh. The heavy tread of the war-horse prancing, The lightning gleam of the bayonets glancing, Broke on the ear and flashed on the eye, As the columned foe, in their strength advancing, Pealed their war-notes to the echoing sky! 'Twas a gallant band that marshalled there, With the dragon-flag upborne in air; For England gathered then her pride, The harvest of a warrior land — Names to heroic deeds allied, The strong of heart and hand They came in their panoplied might, In the pride of their chivalrous name; For music to them were the sounds of the fight, On the red carnage-field was their altar of fame. They came as the ocean- wave comes in its wrath, AND RECITATIONS. 93 When the storm-spirit frowns on the deep; They came as the mountain- wind comes on its path, AVhen the tempest has roused it from sleep. They were met as the rock meets the wave, And dashes its fury to air ; They were met as the foe should be met by the brave, With hearts for the conflict, but not for despair! What power hath stayed that wild career! Not mercy's voice, nor a thrill of fear — 'Tis the dread recoil of the dooming wave, Ere it sweeps the bark to its yawning grave; 'Tis the fearful hour of the brooding storm, Ere the lightning-bolt hath sped. The shock hath come, and the life-blood warm Congeals on the breast of the dead ! The strife, the taunt, the death-cry loud, Are pealing through the sulphurous cloud, As, hand to hand, each foe engages, While hearts that ne'er to monarch bowed, And belted knights to the combat crowd — A fearless throng the contest wages. And eye to eye — the meek, the proud — Meet darkly 'neath the battle-shroud. 'Tis the feast of death where the conflict rages! Wo ! for the land thou tramplest o'er, Death-dealing fiend of war ! Thy battle-hoofs are dyed in gore, Red havoc drives thy car. Wo! for the dark and desolate, Down crushed beneath thy tread ! Thy frown has been as a withering fate To the mourning and the dead ! Vainly they think his step will come — 94 WERNERS READINGS Their cherished conies no more ! Wo ! for the broken-hearted The lone one by the hearth; "Wo! for the bliss departed, The Pleiad gone from earth ! 'Twas a day of changeful fate For the foe of the bannered line, And the host that came at morn in state, Were a broken throng ere the sun's decline; And many a warrior's heart was cold, And many a soaring spirit crushed, Where the crimson tide of battle rolled, And the avenging legions rushed. Wreaths for the living conqueror, And glory's meed for the perished! No sculptor's art may their forms restore, But the hero-names are cherished. When voiced on the wind rose the patriot-call, They gave no thought to the glory pall, But pressed to the fight as a festival! They bared them to the sabre-stroke, Nor quailed an eye when the fury broke; They fought like men who dared to die, For freedom was their battle-cry, And loud it rang through the conflict smoke! Up with the nation's banners! They fly With an eagle-flight, To the far blue sky; 'Tis a glorious sight, As they float abroad in the azure light, And their fame shall never die! When nations search their brightest page For deeds that gild the olden age, AND RECITATIONS. 95 Shining the meteor lights of story, England with swelling pride shall heai Of Oressy's field, and old Poictiers, And deathless Agincourt; Fair Gallia point with a kindling eye To the days of her belted chivalry, And her gallant troubadour; Old Scotia, too, with joy shall turn Where beams the field of Bannockburn, And Stirling's field of glory! Land of the free! though young in fame, Earth may not boast a nobler name; Plata?a's splendor is not thine, Leuctra, nor Marathon ; Yet look where lives in glory's line, The day of Lexington ! BUNKER HILL. GEORGE II. CALVERT. The Americans attempted to annoy, and, if possible, to dislodge the itish forces in Boston. On the 16th of June, 1775, a breastwork was own up on Bunker's Hill, Charlestown, and so silently that it was irly finished before the British discovered it at daybreak, and began to inonade the work from the ships. From the failure of ammunition, s Americans were obliged to retreat. Gen. Warren was killed and arlestown laid in ashes.] * 6 \T^ y e ^' no ^ y e ^' s ^ ea< ^y» steady!" l\ On came the foe in even line, Nearer and nearer to thrice paces nine. We looked into their eyes. " Ready! " A sheet of flame ; a roll of death ! They fell by scores; we held our breath! Then nearer still they came. Another sheet of flame; 9 6 WERNER'S READINGS And brave men fled who never fled before. Immortal fight! Foreshadowing flight Back to the astounded shore. Quickly they rallied, reenforced, 'Mid louder roar of ships' artillery, And bursting bombs and whistling musketry, And shouts and groans anear, afar, All the new din of dreadful war. Through their broad bosoms calmly coursed The blood of those stout farmers, aiming For freedom, manhood's birthright claiming. Onward once more they came: Another sheet of deathful flame ! Another and another still. They broke, they fled ; Again they sped Down the green, bloody hill. Howe, Burgoyne, Clinton, Gage, Stormed with commanders' rage. Into each em p tied barge They crowd fresh men for a new charge Up that great hill. Again their gallant blood we spill. That volley was the last : Our powder failed. On three sides fast The foe pressed in ; nor quailed A man. Their barrels empty, with musket-stocks They fought, and gave death-dealing knocks, Till Prescott ordered the retreat. Then Warren fell; and through a leaden sleet AND RECITATIONS. 9? From Bunker Hill and Breed, Stark, Putnam, Pomeroy, Knowlton, Read Led off the remnant of those heroes true ; The foe too weakened to pursue. The ground they gained; but we The victory. The tidings of that chosen band Flowed in a wave of power Over the shaken, anxious land, To men, to man, a sudden dower. History took a fresh, higher start From that staunch, beaming hour; And when the speeding messenger, that bare The news that strengthened every heart, Met near the Delaware The leader, who had just been named, Who was to be so famed, The steadfast, earnest Washington, With hands uplifted, cries, His great soul flashing to his eyes, " Our liberties are safe! the cause is won! " A thankful look he cast to heaven, and then His steed he spurred in haste to lead such noble men. BUNKER'S HILL. JOHN" NEAL. NO shout disturbed the night Before that fearful fight; There was no boasting high, No marshalling of men Who ne'er might meet again — No cup was filled and quaffed to victory! 98 WERNER'S READINGS No plumes were there, No banners fair, No trumpet breathed around, Nor the drum's startling sound Broke on the midnight air. There was a " still, small voice," As of one from out the grave Who called upon the brave To perish and rejoice! There was a sound of woe, Of heartful agony, For those who were to go That day to do and die. Then fell the widow's tear Upon her only son — Her sole surviving one, — Who, ere the day Avas done, Might be upon the bier; Then was the thick-drawn breath, And the parent's parting sigh, And the husband's startling cry, And the lover's moan swept by, And all was still as death. There was no proud array, No gorgeous show of military power, That lasteth for an hour And then hath passed away; On that eventful day No monarch gave the word, No hirelings obey; No trumpets' sound was heard, Nor the steeds' startling neigh. But commanders gathered there, Stout of heart and strong of limb, AND RECITATIONS. 99 Then heard the chanted hymn, And the lowly muttered prayer, And the foeman's sullen gun As slowly he came on, And the loud-pealed "Hurrah! " Then the strongest knees did fail, And the ruddy cheeks grew pale, And the balmy summer gale A chill o'er many cast, Who had braved the winter's blast. There was a distant roar, There was a nearer crash, There was a shout along the shore, Along the hill a flash ; Then came the foeman's cry, And then the foeman's gun; A siDgle yell of agony, A groan, and all was done; A battle fought, a victory won ! DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. July 4, 1776. WHEN, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have con- nected them with another, and to assume, among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. We hold these truths to be self-evident: That all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pur- 100 WERNER'S READINGS suit of happiness; that to secure these rights, governments are I instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter on to abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its founda- tion on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, | as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happi- ness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more dis- posed to suffer while evils are snfferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute des- potism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such isj now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former system of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world : He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome and nec- essary for the public good. He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature, — a right inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants only. He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, un- comfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, AND RECITATIONS. 101 'or the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures. i He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing, vith manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people. He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, to cause ,)thers to be elected; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of mnihilation, have returned to the people at large, for their ex- ercise, the state remaining, in the meantime, exposed to all the langers of invasion from without, and convulsion within. He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states; for >;hat purpose, obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners, efusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands. He has obstructed the administration of justice by refusing his issent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. He has made judges dependent on his will alone for the tenure -i)f their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries. He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms M officers, to harass our people and eat out their substance. ijj He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, with- out the consent of our legislatures. He has affected to render the military independent of, and su- oerior to, the civil power. He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction ioreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws, giv- ng his assent to their acts of pretended legislation, — for quartering >arge bodies of armed troops among us; for protecting them, by i mock trial, from punishment for any murders which they should 3ommit on the inhabitants of these states; for cutting off our trade hvith all parts of the world; for imposing taxes on us without our ithonsent; for depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial by njury; for transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pretended offences; for abolishing the free system of English laws in a neigh- boring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at once an example and 102 WERNER'S READINGS fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies; for taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering, fundamentally, the powers of our government; for suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves in- vested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever. He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection, and waging war against us. He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. He is, at this time, transporting large armies of foreign merce- naries, to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation. He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has en- deavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions. In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms; our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people. Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them, from time to time, of attempts by tbeir legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity; and we have conjured them, by the ties of our com- mon kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They, too, have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, AND RECITATIONS. 103 therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends. We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of Amer- ica, in General Congress assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name and by the authority of the good people of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all po- litical connection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved; and that, as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And, for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our for- tunes, and our sacred honor. THE BELL OF LIBERTY. J. T. HEADLEY. [Congress organized a Continental Army and placed George Washington at its head. The news of the battle of Bunker Hill excited astonishment in England, and induced Lord Chatham to attempt a change in the measures of the British government. But in this he was unsuccessful, and the ministry decided to employ a force powerful enough to reduce the colonies to submission. Thomas Paine advocated the expediency and necessity of a Declaration of Independence, and the motion was carried by a vote nearly unanimous on July 4, 1776. J THE representatives of the people assembled in solemn con- clave, and long and anxiously surveyed the perilous ground on which they were treacling. To recede was now impossible; to go on seemed fraught with terrible consequences. The result of the long and fearful conflict that must follow was more than doubtful. For twenty days Congress was tossed on a sea of per- 104 WERNER'S READINGS plexity. At length, Richard Henry Lee, shaking off the fetters that galled his noble spirit, arose, on the 7th of June, and in a clear, deliberate tone, every accent of which rang to the farthest extremity of the silent hall, proposed the following resolution : " Re- solved, That these united Colonies are, and ought to be, free and independent states, and all political connection between us and the states of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." John Adams, in whose soul glowed the burning future, seconded the resolution in a speech so full of impassioned fervor, thrilling eloquence, and prophetic power, that Congress was carried away be- fore it as by a resistless wave. The die was cast, and every man was now compelled to meet the issue. The resolution was finally deferred till the 1st of July, to allow a committee, appointed for that purpose, to draft a Declaration of Independence. When the day arrived, the Declaration was taken up and debated article by article. The discussion continued for three days, and was characterized by great excitement. At lengtb, the various sections having been gone through with, the next day, July 4th, was appointed for action. It was soon known throughout the city; and in the morning, before Congress assembled, the streets were filled with excited men, some gathered in groups engaged in eager discussion, and others moving toward the state-house. All business was forgotten in the momentous crisis which the country had now reached. No sooner had the members taken their seats than the multitude gathered in a dense mass around the entrance. The bellman mounted to the belfry, to be ready to proclaim the joyful tidings of freedom as soon as the final vote was passed. A bright-eyed boy was stationed below to give the signal. Around the bell, brought from England, had been cast, more than twenty years before, the prophetic motto: "Proclaim liberty throughout all the land, unto all the inhabitants thereof." Although its loud clang had often sounded over the city, the proclamation engraved on its iron lip had never yet been spoken aloud. It was expected that the final vote would be taken without delay; but hour after hour wore on, and no report came from the myste' AND RECITATIONS. 105 rious hall where the fate of a continent was in suspense. The multitude grew impatient. The old man leaned over the railing, straining his eye downward, till his heart misgave him, and hope yielded to fear. But at length, about two o'clock, the door of the hall opened, and a voice exclaimed, "It has passed!" The word leaped like lightning from lip to lip, followed by huzzas that shook the building. The boy-sentinel turned to the belfry, clapped his hands, and shouted, "Ring! ring!" The desponding bellman, electrified into life by the joyful news, seized the iron tongue, and hurled it backward and forward with a clang that startled every heart in Philadelphia like a bugle blast. "Clang! Clang!" the bell of Liberty resounded on, higher and clearer and more joyous, blending in its deep and thrilling vibration, and proclaiming in loud and long accents over all the land the motto that encircled it. Glad messengers caught the tidings as they floated out on the air, and spread off in every direction to bear them onward. When they reached New York, the bells rang out the glorious news, and the excited multitude, surging hither and thither, at length gathered around the Bowling Green, and seizing the leaden statue of George III., which stood there, tore it in fragments. These were afterward run into bullets and hurled against his Majesty's troops. When the Declaration arrived in Boston, the people # gathered to the old Faneuil Hall to hear it read ; and as the last sentence fell from the lips of the reader, a loud shout went up, and soon from every fortified height and every battery the thunder of cannon reechoed the joy. THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. CARL SCHURZ. LET your imagination carry you back to the year 1776. You stand in the hall of the old colonial court-house, of Phila- delphia. Through the open door you see the Continental Congress assembled; the moment for a great decision is drawing near. The 106 WERNER'S READINGS first little impulses to the general upheaval of the popular spirit, the Tea Tax, the Stamp Act, drop into insignificance; they are almost forgotten ; the revolutionary spirit has risen far above them. It puts the claim to independence upon the broad basis of eternal rights, as self-evident as the sun, as broad as the world, as common as the air of heaven. The struggle of the colonies against the usurping government of Great Britain has risen to the proud dimensions of a struggle of man for liberty and equality. Not only the supremacy of old Eng- land is to be shaken off, but a new organization of society is to be built up, on the basis of liberty and equality. That is the Dec- laration of Independence! That is the American Revolution! It is a common thing that men of a coarse cast of mind so lose themselves in the mean pursuit of selfish ends, as to Become in- sensible to the grand and sublime. Measuring every character and every event in history by the low standard of their own individual- ities, incapable of grasping broad and generous ideas, they will be- little every great thing they cannot deny, and drag down every struggle of principle to the sordid arena of aspiring selfishness. Eighteen hundred years ago there were men who saw in incipient Christianity nothing but a mere wrangle between Jewish theologians, gotten up by a carpenter's boy, and carried on by a few crazy fisher- men. Three hundred years ago there were men who saw in the* great reformatory movement of the 16th century, not the emanci- pation of the individual conscience, but a mere fuss raised by a German monk, who wanted to get married. Two hundred years ago there were men who saw in Hampden's refusal to pay the ship's money, not a bold vindication of constitutional liberty, but the crazy antics of a man who was mean enough to quarrel about a few shillings. And now there are men who see in the Declaration of Independence and the American Revolution, not the reorganization of human society upon a basis of liberty and equality, but a dodge of some English colonists who were unwilling to pay their taxes. It is in vain for demagogism to raise its short arms against the truth of history. The Declaration of Independence stands there. AND RECITATIONS. 107 No candid man ever read it without seeing and feeling that every word of it was dictated by deep and earnest thought, and that every sentence of it bears the stamp of philosophic generality. It is the summing up of the results of the philosophical development of the age; the practical embodiment of the progressive ideas, which, far from being confined to the narrow limits of the English colonies, pervaded the very atmosphere of all civilized countries. ON THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. RICHARD S. STORRS, D. D. NOT out of books, legal researches, historical inquiry, the care- ful and various studies of language, came the Declaration of I Independence; but out of repeated public debate, out of manifold I personal and private discussion, out of Jefferson's clear, sympathetic observation of the feeling and thought of men, out of that exquisite ! personal sensibility to vague and impalpable popular impulses which \ was in him innately combined with artistic taste, an ideal nature, and 'irare power of philosophical thought. The voice of the cottage as well as the college, of the church as well as the legislative assembly, >was in the paper. It echoed the talk of the farmer in homespun, I as well as the classic eloquence of Lee, or the terrible tones of Patrick ^Henry. It gushed at last from the pen of its writer, like I the fountain from the roots of Lebanon, a brimming river when it i issues from the rock ; but it was because its sources had been sup- plied, its fulness filled by unseen springs; by the rivulets winding I far up among the cedars, and percolating through hidden crevices i in the stone; by melting snows, whose white sparkle seemed still i on the stream ; by fierce rains, with which the basins above were i drenched ; by even the dews, silent and wide, which had lain in i stillness all night upon the hill. The Platonic idea of the development of the state was thus realized here: first ethics, then politics. A public opinion, ener- getic and dominant, took its place from the start as the chief 108 WERNER'S READINGS instrument of the new civilization. No dashing manoeuvres of skilful commanders, no sudden burst of popular passion, was in the Declaration ; but the vast mystery of a supreme and imperative public life, at once diffused and intense — behind all persons, before all plans, beneath which individual wills are exalted, at whose touch the personal mind is inspired, and under whose transcendent impulse the smallest instrument becomes of a terrific force. That made the Declaration ; and that makes it now, in its modest brevity, take its place with Magna Charta and the Petition of Eight, as full as they of vital force, and destined to a parallel permanence. A NATION BORN IN A DAY. JOHN QUIKCY ADAMS. THE Declaration of Independence! The interest which in that paper has survived the occasion upon which it was issued, the interest which is of every age and every clime, the interest which quickens with the lapse of years, spreads as it grows old, and brightens as it recedes, is in the principles which it proclaims. It was the first solemn declaration by a nation of the only legitimate foundation of civil government. It was the corner-stone of a new fabric, destined to cover the surface of the globe. It demolished at a stroke the lawfulness of all governments founded upon con- quest. It swept away all the rubbish of accumulated centuries of servitude. It announced in practical form to the world the tran- scendent truth of the inalienable sovereignty of the people. It proved that the social compact was no figment of the imagination, but a real, solid, and sacred bond of the social union. From the day of this declaration the people of North America were no longer the fragment of a distant empire, imploring justice and mercy from an inexorable master in another hemisphere. They were no longer children, appealing in vain to the sympathies of a heartless mother; no longer subjects, leaning upon the shattered columns of royal promises, and invoking the faith of parchment to secure AND RECITATIONS. 109 their rights. They were a nation, asserting as of right and main- taining by war its own existence. A nation was born in a day. " How many ages hence Shall this, their lofty scene, be acted o'er In states unborn, and accents yet unknown?" It will be acted o'er, fellow-citizens, but it can never be repeated. It stands, and must forever stand, alone; a beacon on the summit of the mountain, to which all the inhabitants of the earth may turn their eyes for a genial and saving light, till time shall be lost in eternity, and this globe itself dissolve, nor leave a wreck behind. It stands forever, a light of admonition to the rulers of men, a light of salvation and redemption to the oppressed. So long as this planet shall be inhabited by human beings, so long as man shall be of a social nature, so long as government shall be necessary to the great moral purposes of society, so long as it shall be abused to the purposes of oppression, — so long shall this declaration hold out to the sovereign and to the subject the extent and the boundaries of their respective rights and duties, founded in the laws of nature and of nature's God. THE BIRTHDAY OF THE REPUBLIC. THOMAS PAINE. [September 3, 1783, there was concluded at Versailles a Treaty of Peace, by which the thirteen united colonies were acknowledged to be " Free, sovereign, and independent states. "] THE times that tried men's souls are over, and the greatest and completest revolution the world ever knew is gloriously and happily accomplished. To see it in our power to make a world happy, to teach mankind the art of being so, to exhibit on the theatre of the universe a character hitherto unknown, and to have, as it were, a new creation intrusted to our hands, are honors that command reflection, and can neither be too highly estimated nor too gratefully received. In this pause, then, of recollection, while 110 WERNER'S READINGS the storm is ceasing and the long agitated mind vibrating to a rest, let us look back on the scenes we have passed, and learn from ex- perience what is yet to be done. Never, I say, had a country so many openings to happiness as this. Her setting out in life, like the rising of a fair morning, was unclouded and promising. Her cause was good, her principles just and liberal, her temper serene and firm. Her conduct was regulated by the nicest steps, and everything about her wore the mark of honor. It is not every country — perhaps there is not an- other in the world — that can boast so fair an origin. Rome, once the proud mistress of the universe, was originally a band of ruffians ; but America need never be ashamed to tell her birth, nor relate the stages by which she rose to empire. The remembrance, then, of what is past, if it operates rightly, must inspire her with the most laudable of all ambition, — that of adding to the fair fame she be- gan with. The world has seen her great in adversity; let then the world see that she can bear prosperity, and that her honest virtue in time of peace is equal to the bravest virtue in time of war. The debt which America has contracted, compared with the cause she has gained and the advantages to flow from it, ought scarcely to be mentioned. The world is in her hands. She has no foreign power to monopolize her commerce, perplex her legislation, or control her prosperity. With the blessings of peace, indepen- dence, and a universal commerce, the states, individually and col- lectively, will have time to regulate their domestic concerns, and to put it beyond the power of calumny to throw the least reflection on their honor. But that which must much more forcibly strike a thoughtful, penetrating mind is the union of the states. On this our great national character depends. It is this which must give us impor- tance abroad and security at home. It is through this only that we are or can be nationally known to the world. It is the flag of iheU?iited States which renders oui ships and commerce safe on the seas or in a foreign port. All our treaties, whether of alliance, peace, or commerce, are formed under the sovereignty of the United AND RECITATIONS. HI (bates of America, and Europe knows us by no other title or name. Hie division of the empire into states is for our own convenience, ut abroad this distinction ceases. We have no other national Dvereignty than as United States. Sovereignty must have power 3 protect all the parts that compose and constitute it, and as fnited States Ave are equal to the importance of the title. Our nion, well and wisely regulated and cemented, is the cheapest -ay of being great, the easiest way of being powerful, the happiest ivention in government which the circumstances of America can dmit of. MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. CHAKLES SUMNER. DVERTOPPING all others in character, La Fayette was con- spicuous in debate. Especially was he aroused whenever uman liberty was in question; nor did he hesitate to vindicate he great revolution in France, at once in its principles and in its Tactical results, boldly declaring that its evils were to be referred, ot so much to the bad passions of men, as to those timid counsels r hich instituted compromise for principle. His parliamentary lareer was interrupted by an episode which belongs to the poetry f history — his visit to the United States upon the invitation of the imerican Congress. The Boston poet at that time gave expression o the universal feeling when he said: "We bow not the neck, we bend not the knee, But our hearts, La Fayette, we surrender to thee." As there never was such a guest, so there never was such a host; nd yet, throughout all the transcendent hospitality binding him i-y new ties, he kept the loyalty of his heart — he did not forget the Lfrican slave. But his country had further need of his services. Imarles X. undertook to subvert the charter under which he held lis crown ; Paris was again aroused, and France was heaving. Then .id all eyes turn to the patriot farmer of Lagrange, to the hero 112 WERNER'S READINGS already of two revolutions, to inspire confidence alike by his bravery and by his principles. Now seventy years of age, with a few friends, among whom was a personal friend of my own — whom some of you also know, Dr. Howe, of Boston, — he passed through the streets where the conflict was hotly raging, and across the barri- cades, to the City Hall, when he was again placed at the head of the national guard of France. " Liberty shall triumph," said he in his first proclamation, "or we will perish together." Charles X. fell before the words of that old man. The destinies of France were again in his hand. He might have made himself Dictator; he might have established a republic of which he might have been chief; but, mindful of that moderation which was the rule of his life, unwilling to haz- ard again the civil conflict which had drenched France with fra- ternal blood, he proposed a popular throne surrounded by popular institutions. The Duke of Orleans, as Louis Philippe, became King of Fronce. Unquestionably his own desire was for a repub- lic, upon the American model; but he gave up this darling desire of his heart, satisfied that, at least, liberty was secured. ' If this was not so, it was because, for a moment, he had put his trust in princes. He again withdrew to his farm, but his heart was wher- ever liberty was in question — now with the Pole, now with the Italian, now with the African slave. For the rights of the latter he had unfailing sympathy, and upon the principle, as he expressed it, " Every slave has the right of immediate emancipation, by the concession of his master or by force, and this principle no man can call in question." Tenderly he approached this great question of our own country, but the constancy with which he did it shows that it haunted and perplexed him like a sphinx, with a perpetual riddle. He could not understand how men who had fought for their own liberty could deny liberty to others. But he did not de- spair; although at one time in his old age his impatient philan- thropy broke forth in the declaration, that he never would have drawn the sword for America had he known that it was to found a government that sanctioned human slavery. AND RECITATIONS. 113 The time was now at hand when his great career was to close. Being taken ill, at first with a cold, the Chamber of Deputies in- jquired of his son after his health ; and upon the next day, May 20, ,1834, he died, at the age of seventy-seven. The ruling passion was strong to the last. As at the beginning, so at the end, he was all for freedom; and the last lines traced by his hand, which he rose from his death-bed to write, attest his joy at that great act of emancipation by which England, at an expense of $100,000,000, had given freedom to 800,000 slaves. " Nobly," he writes — and these were the last words of your benefactor — " nobly has the pub- lic treasure been employed." And these last words, speaking from the tomb, still sound in our ears. Such was La Fayette. At the tidings of his death there was mourning in two hemispheres, for the whole earth was the sepulchre of the illustrious man. Judge him by what he did throughout a long life, and you must confess his greatness. Judge him by the principles of his life, and you must bend with reverence before him. In all his- tory he stands alone. There is no one who has done so much for human freedom. In youth showing the firmness of age, and in age showing the ardor of youth; trampling upon the prejudices of birth, upon the seductions of power, upon the blandishments of Wealth, setting aside the favor even of that people whom he loved so well; whether placed at the height of worldly ambition, or plunged in the vaults of a dungeon, always true to the same principle. Great he was, indeed, not as an author, although he has written what we are all glad to read; not as an orator, although he has spoken so often and well; not as a soldier, although always brave, iand often working miracles of genius; not as a statesman, although versed in government and intuitively perceiving the relations of men and nations — not on these accounts is he great; but he is great as one of the world's benefactors who possessed the largest measure of that greatest gift of God to man, the genius of beneficence. And great he is as an example which, so long as history endures, shall teach all — the author, the soldier, the statesman, — all alike to la- bor, and, if need be, to suffer, for human right. The fame of such 114 WERNER'S READINGS a character, brightening with the advance of civilization, can find no limit except in earthly gratitude. WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. THEODOEE PARKER. DURING the winter of 1777-8, Washington went into winter quarters at Valley Forge. What a terrible time it was for the hopes of America! In 1776 he had an army of 47,000 men, and the nation was exhausted by the great effort. In 1777 it was less than 20,000 men. Women who had once melted their pewter plates into bullets, could not do it a second time. At Valley Forge, within a day's march of the enemy's headquar- ters, there were not 12,000 soldiers. That winter they lay on the ground. So scarce were blankets that many were forced to sit up all night by their fires. At one time, more than a thousand sol- diers had not a shoe to their feet. You could trace their march by the blood which their naked feet left in the ice. At one time, more than one-fourth of all the troops there are reported as " unfit for duty, because barefoot or otherwise naked." "Washington offered a prize for the best substitute for shoes made of untanned hides! Even provisions failed. Once there wtis a famine in the camp, and Washington must seize provisions by violence, or the army would die. He ordered the Pennsylvania farmers to thresh out the wheat and sell it to him, or he would take it and pay them only for the straw. Congress was disheartened. The men of ability stayed at home, and weaklings took their place. For some time there were only 21 members, and it was difficult to assemble a quorum of states for business. Tories abounded. There were cabals against Washington in the army. Mifflin, Conway, Gates, Pickering, Schuyler, were hostile, and they found abundant support in Congress. Samuel Adams dis- trusted Washington. So, too, did John Adams. James Lovell, of Massachusetts, and Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia, were not AND RECITATIONS. 115 more friendly, and far less honorable. It is not wholly to be wondered at. Within a year, Washington had lost New York and its neigh- borhood — lost Philadelphia and all the strongholds around it. He had gained but one victory worth naming, that at Trenton. In the mean time, Burgoyne, an able soldier, with an admirable army, liad walked into a trap on the North River, and had been taken by Grates and the northern army, who were most of them militia of New England. It is not wonderful that men doubted, and thought ;hat the selfish, mean-spirited, and loud-talking General Conway vould do better than the modest Washington to command the army. Samuel Adams wanted democratic rotation in office, that the general should be hired by the year! If he had not been possessed )f great wealth, and cared for nothing, I think Washington's com- mand had come to an end before 1778. But Dr. Franklin was on the other side of the sea ; and, with consummate art, he had induced the French court to favor America with contributions of money Mid of arms, and, after the surrender of Burgoyne, to acknowledge the independence of the United States, and to make an open treaty if alliance, furnishing America with money and men, artillery and stores. Then, first, America began to uplift her drooping head. WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. MAKY E. BLAKE. HEART of the patriot touched by Freedom's kindling breath, Pouring its burning words from lips by passion fired ! >>word of the soldier drawn in the awful face of death ! Bounteous pen of the scholar tracing its theme inspired ! iiVealth of the rich man's coffers, help of the poor man's dole! Strength of the sturdy arm and might of the statesman's fame, Chese be fit themes for praise, in days that tried the soul, But where in the list is room for mention of woman's name? 116 WERNER'S READINGS For hers are the virtues cast in finer and gentler mould ; In quiet and peaceful paths her nature finds its scope. Stronger in loving than hating, fond where the man is bold, She works with the tools of patience and wonderful gifts of hope. Nay! When the man is called the woman must swiftly rise, Ready to strengthen and bless, ready to follow or wait ; Eeady to crush in her heart the anguish of tears and sighs, Beading the message of God in the blind decrees of fate ! So, in days of the past, when Liberty raised her voice, Weak as a new-born babe in the cradle who wakes and calls, And the tremulous accents ran through the beautiful land of her j choice — As into the heart of the mother the cry of her infant falls — So did hand of the woman reach to hand of the man, Helping with comfort and love, steeling his own for the strife; Till the calm of her steadfast soul through his wavering pulses ran, And the blow of the husband's arm was nerved from the heart of the wife. Wearing a homespun gown, or ruling with easy sway The world of fashion and pride, gilded by fortune's sun, Eich or poor, who asks, as we read the record of to-day? Lowly or great, who cares how the poor distinctions run? . Hallowed be every name in the roll of honor and fame, Since on hearthstone and field they kindled the sacred fire, Since with fostering breath they nurtured liberty's name, And set it aloft on the heights to which heroes' feet aspire. Molly of Monmouth, staunch in the place of her fallen brave, Drowning the cry of defeat in the lusty roar of her gun ; Rebecca, the Lady of Buckhead, who, eager for freedom, gave Home of her heart to the burning, and smiled when the work was done; Abigail Adams of Quincy, noble of soul and race, Reader of men and books, wi elder of distaff and pen; AND RECITATIONS. 117 Martha Wilson of Jersey, moving with courtly grace; Deborah Samson, fighting side by side with the men; Frances Allen, the Tory, choosing the better part, Led by Ethan, the daring, to follow his glorious way; Elizabeth Zane of Wheeling, timid, yet brave of heart, Bearing her burden of powder through smoke and flame of the fray! Each, on the endless list, through length and breadth of the land, Winning her deathless place on the golden scroll of time, Fair as in old Greek days the women of Sparta stand, Linked with the heroes' fame and sharing their deeds sublime. Plain of speech and of dress, as fitted their age and place, Meet companions for men of sterner creed and fame ; Yet knowing the worth of a word, and fair with the old-time grace, That perfumes like breath of a flower the page that holds their name. Honor they taught, and right, and noble courage of truth, Strength to suffer and bear in holy liberty's need; Framing through turbulent years and fiery season of youth, Soul for the valor of thought, hand for the valor of deed. Well that with praise of the brave, song of their triumph should blend! Well that in joy of the land fame of their glory find part! For theirs is the tone of the chord that holds its full strength to the end, When music that dies on the ear still lingers and sings in the heart. I Letter and word may die, but still the spirit survives, Rounding in ages unborn each frail, distorted plan ; And fittest survival is that when souls of mothers and wives Bloom in immortal deeds through life of child and of man. 118 WERNER'S READINGS THE FIFER AND DRUMMER OF SCITUATE. S. H. PALFREY. [A true incident of the war of 1812.] < < A BBY, Abby, they're a-comin' !" f\ "Who's a-comin'? What's to do?" "Oh, the British! an' there ain't a soul to home but me an' you. Job's gone courtin', Noah's a-fishin', all the neighbors be afar; Peek; they're two great boat-loads rowiu' for our flour-ships at the bar. When they've took 'em, what's to bender? don't you s'pose they'll come right down, Pike an' gun an' blood an' murder here, an' rob an' burn the town? " "No, I don't, not ef I'm spared — an' don't you have a chicken heart. Le' me think, an' then I'll tell ye; then we both must play our part. Becky, all we've ever got ter miud is, jest ter do our best; When that's done, we never need ter fear ter leave ter God the rest. Nobody can't die but once; an' ef our own turn comes to-day, Let it find us at our dooty, an' then find us when it may. Though their swellin' hearts be mighty — though each comes like ten times ten — Say your prayers, an' jest remem 1 er Englishmen ain't naught but men. I'll run round an' lock the house up, an' you scamper for your life Up the garret stairs, an' fetch us, to the barn, the drum an' fife, Make believe we're the milishy comin'. Girls be good as boys For some things — folks needn't tell me — jest as good ter make a noise." AND RECITATIONS. 119 Becky scampers. Abby makes fast door and window breathlessly, In her hurry puts the kitten in her pocket with the key, Calls the dog, and drives the cow in from her grazing in the croft To her stall, and, dragging Becky, scrambles up into the loft, Opens wide the great barn window, seizes on her father's drum, Cries, " You keep the fife, dear Becky — that's right — sound like kingdom come! Thiuk you've got the trump that Gideon blew against the heathen host, When the Lord's sword conquered Midian, an' their princes' heads were lost. Won't the British lose their heads, too? Mebbe, ef we keep our own." 'While she chatters, she is drumming, till the grumbling roof doth groan. "Yankee Doodle," "Hail, Columbia," pealed with many a deafen- ing bout; I Like a cherub's on a tombstone, Becky's dimpled cheeks puffed out, i Abby's hazel eyes flashed lightning, as her rapid stick she plied, 'Marching still, and counter-marching, to and fro, from side to side — "O'er the soft gray hills and valleys of the clover-scented hay, Sounding like an army coming up and down from far away, ,'Now through rich brown shadows went they — lively, lovely Yankee girls — Now an elm let stealthy sunlight in on fair and chestnut curls. I Fifing, drumming, panting, stumbling, half in fear and half in fun, "When they dared to reconnoitre, then they saw the British run. "Now 'The Rogue's March,' little sister — louder, louder! let us play One more pooty piece o' music jest ter speed 'em on their way." When the sunset's gold and amber, wrought upon the cobwebbed gloom Of the straw-hung old barn-chamber, made it seem a tapestried room, 120 WERNER'S READINGS And their townsmen came, each rafter o'er each little merry head, Eang with peals of girlish laughter as the pair looked down and said: "Brother, father, uncle, welcome; but a little late you've come! Now the flour-ships would be taken but for us, an' fife an' drum." Straight men knew the situation, ran the rescued ships to see, Thronged the barnyard then, and, shouting, gave the damsels " three times three !" Wild with mirth; and ever after, oft as general training-day Called the gallant lads of Scituate from the scythe and forge away, 'Neath the farmhouse' sunset windows, fife and drum were duly played To those gallant maids of Scituate, in memorial serenade. CAPTAIN MOLLY AT MONMOUTH. WILLIAM COLLINS. [At the opening of the campaign in 1778, Gen. William Howe went to England, and Gen. Sir Henry Clinton succeeded him as commander-in- chief. It was determined by the British to concentrate their forces in the city of New York, and for this purpose the royal army left Phila- delphia in June and crossed the Delaware. Gen. Washington, penetrat- ing their design, attempted to interrupt their progress. The two armies met on the 28th of June, near Monmouth Court House, N. J. The British troops were defeated and remained inactive during the summer.] ON the bloody field of Monmouth flashed the guns of Greene and Wayne; Fiercely roared the tide of battle, thick the sward was heaped with slain. Foremost, facing death and danger, Hessian horse and grenadier, In the vanguard, fiercely fighting, stood an Irish cannoneer. Loudly roared his iron cannon, mingling ever in the strife, And beside him, firm and daring, stood his faithful Irish wife; Of her bold contempt of danger, Greene and Lee's brigade could tell, Every one knew " Captain Molly," and the army loved her well. AND RECITATIONS. 121 Surged the roar of battle round them, swiftly flew the iron hail; Forward dashed a thousand bayonets that lone battery to assail; From the foeman's foremost columns swept a furious fusilade, Mowing down the massed battalions in the ranks of Greene's brigade. Fast and faster worked the gunner, soiled with powder, blood, and dust ; English bayonets shone before him, shot and shell around him burst ; Still he fought with reckless daring, stood and manned her long and well, Till at last the gallant fellow dead beside his cannon fell. With a bitter cry of sorrow, and a dark and angry frown, Looked that band of gallant patriots at their gunner stricken down. "Fall back, comrades! It is folly thus to strive against the foe." "No, not so! " cried Irish Molly, " we can strike another blow! " Quickly leaped she to the cannon in her fallen husband's place, Sponged and rammed it fast and steady, fired it in the foeman's face. Flashed another ringing volley, roared another from the gun ; " Boys, hurrah ! " cried gallant Molly, " for the flag of Washington ! " Greene's brigade, though shorn and shattered, slain and bleeding half their men, When they heard that Irish slogan, turned and charged the foe again ; Knox and Wayne and Morgan rally, to the front they forward wheel, And before their rushing onset Clinton's English columns reel. Still the cannon's voice in anger rolled and rattled o'er the plain, Till there lay in swarms around it mangled heaps of Hessian slain. "Forward! charge them with the bayonet!" 'twas the voice of Washington; ind there burst a fiery greeting from the Irishwoman's gun. 122 WERNER'S READINGS Monckton falls; against his columns leap the troops of Wayne and Lee, And before their reeking bayonets Clinton's red battalions flee; Morgan's rifles, fiercely flashing, thin the foe's retreating ranks, And behind them, onward dashing, Ogden hovers on their flanks. Fast they fly, those boasting Britons, who in all their glory came, With their brutal Hessian hirelings to wipe out our country's name. Proudly floats the starry banner; Monmouth's glorious field is won; And, in triumph, Irish Molly stands beside her smoking gun. SOLILOQUY OF ARNOLD. EDWARD C. JONES. THE plan is fixed; I fluctuate no more Betwixt despair and hope. As leaves the shore The hardy mariner, though adverse fate May merge his bark, or cast him desolate Upon a savage coast, so, wrought at last Up to a frenzied purpose, I have passed The Kubicon. Farewell my old renown! Here I breathe mildew on my warrior csown; Here honor parts from me, and base deceit Steps to the usurper's throne; I cannot meet The withering censure of the rebel band, And, therefore, to the strong I yield this heart and hand. What else befits me? I have misapplied The nation's funds and ever gratified Each vaulting wish, though justice wept the deed; And here, beneath the load of pressing need, I must have gold. How else the clamorous cry Of creditors appease, and satisfy AND RECITATIONS. 123 Demands which haunt me more than dreams of blood And claims which chill more than Canadian flood? Stay? My accounts betray the swindler's mark. Go? And my path, though smooth, like Tartarus is dark. These rocky ridges, how they shelve on high, Each a stern sentinel in majesty. Yes, 'tis your own Gibraltar, Washington! And must the stronghold of his hope be won? Won? Twenty thousand scarcely could invest That sure defence, which o'er the river's breast Casts a gigantic shadow; but my plan Dispenses with the formidable van, And Clinton may my garrison surprise, With few sulphurous clouds to blot these azure skies. And yet a pang comes over me — I see Myself at Saratoga; full and free Goes up the peal of noble-hearted men; Among the wounded am I numbered then, And my outgushing feelings cling to those Who periled all to face their country's foes. Ah! when that wound a soldier's pride increased, And gratulation scarce its pasan ceased, I thought not then, oh, God! the stamp of shame Would stand imprinted thus upon my hard-earned fame. Avaunt, compunction ! Conscience, to the wind ! Gold, gold I need — gold must Sir Henry find I A rankling grudge is mine, for why not I Commander of their forces? To the sky Ever goes up the peal for Washington. Is he a god, Virginia's favored son? Why should the incense fume forevermore? Must he my skill, my prowess, shadow o'er? 124 WERNER'S READINGS Ere this autumnal moon has filled its horn, His honors must be nipped, his rising glories shorn. Ah! he securely rests upon my faith — Securely, when the spectre dims his path ! How unsuspecting has he ever been; Above the false, the sinister, the mean! But hold such eulogy — I will not praise; Mine is the task to tarnish all his bays. West Point, thy rocky ridges seem to say, Be firm as granite, crown the work to-day, Blot Saratoga, hearth and home adjure, Andre I meet again — the gold I must secure. THE BATTLE OF THE COWPENS. THOMAS DUNK ENGLISH. [In the autumn of 1780, Gen. Nathaniel Greene was appointed to the chief command of the American Southern army. The first action was fought at the Cowpens, where the English were defeated, losing over 800 men, while the Americans lost only 72. ] TO the Cowpens riding proudly, boasting loudly, rebels scorning, Tarleton hurried, hot and eager for the fight; From the Cowpens, sore confounded, on that January morning, Tarleton hurried somewhat faster, fain to save himself by flight. In the morn he scorned us rarely, but he fairly found his error, When his force was made our ready blows to feel ; When his horsemen and his footmen fled in wild and pallid terror At the leaping of our bullets, and the sweeping of our steel. All the day before we fled them, and we led them to pursue us, Then at night on Thicketty Mountain made our camp; There we lay upon our rifles, slumber quickly coming to us, Spite the crackling of our camp-fires, and our sentries' heavy tramp. AND RECITATIONS. 125 Morning on the mountain border ranged in order found our forces, Ere our scouts announced the coming of the foe; While the hoar-frost lying near us, and the distant water courses, Gleamed like silver in the sunlight, seemed like silver in the glow. Morgan ranged us there to meet them, and to greet them with such favor That they scarce would care to follow us again; In the rear, the Continentals — none were readier nor braver; In the van with ready rifles, steady, stern, our mountain men. Washington, our trooper peerless, gay and fearless, with his forces Waiting panther-like upon the foe to fall, Formed upon the slope behind us, where, on raw-boned country horses, Sat the sudden-summoned levies brought from Georgia by McCall. Soon we heard a distant drumming, near coming, slow advancing — It was then upon the very nick of nine — Soon upon the road from Spartanburg we saw their bayonets glancing, And the moving sunlight playing on their swaying scarlet line. In the distance seen so dimly, they looked grimly — coming nearer There was naught about them fearful after all, Until some one near me spoke in voice than falling water clearer, "Tarleton's quarter is the sword-blade — Tarleton's mercy is the ball." Then the memory came unto me, heavy, gloomy, of my brother Who was slain while asking quarter at their hand ; Of that morning when was driven forth my sister and my mother From our cabin in the valley by the spoilers of the land. 126 WERNER'S READINGS I remembered of my brother slain, my mother spurned and beaten, Of my sister in her beauty brought to shame; Of the wretches' jeers and laughter, as from mud-sill up to rafter, Of the stripped and plundered cabin, leaped the fierce, consuming flame. But that memory had no power there in that hour to depress me — No! it stirred within my spirit fiercer ire; And I gripped my sword-hilt firmer, and my arm and heart grew stronger, And I longed to meet the wronger on the sea of steel and fire. On they came, our might disdaining, when the raining bullets leaden Pattered fast from scattered rifles on each wing; Here and there went down a foeman, and the ground began to redden ; And they drew them back a moment, like the tiger ere his spring. Then said Morgan, " Ball and powder kill much prouder men than Georgia's — On your rifles and a careful aim rely ; They were trained in many battles, we in work -shops, fields and forges ; But we have our homes to fight for, and we do not fear to die." Though our leader's words we cheered not, yet we feared not; we awaited, Strong of heart, the threatened onset, and it came ; Up the sloping hillside swiftly rushed the foe so fiercely hated; On they came with gleaming bayonet, 'mid the cannon's smoke and flame. At their head rode Tarleton proudly — ringing loudly o'er the yelling Of his men who heard his voice's brazen tone — AND RECITATIONS. 127 With his dark eyes flashing fiercely, and his sombre features telling In their look the pride that filled him as the champion of the throne. On they pressed, when sudden flashing, ringing, crashing came the firing Of our forward line upon their close-set ranks; Then at coming of their steel, which moved with steadiness untiring, Fled our mountaineerSj reforming in good order on our flanks. Then the combat's raging anger, din and clangor, round and o'er us, Filled the forest, stirred the air and shook the ground ; Charged with thunder tramp the horsemen, while their sabres shone before us, Gleaming lightly, streaming brightly through the smoking cloud around. Through the pines and oaks resounding, madly bounding from the mountain, Leaped the rattle of the battle and the roar; Fierce the hand-to-hand engaging, and the human freshet raging Of the surging current urging past a dark and bloody shore. Soon the course of fight was altered ; soon they faltered at the leaden Storm that smote them, and we saw their centre swerve; Tarleton's eye flashed fierce in anger; Tarleton's face began to redden ; Tarleton gave the closing order — " Bring to action the reserve! " .Up the slope his legion thundered, full three hundred, fiercely spurring, Cheering lustily they fell upon our flanks ; And their worn and wearied comrades, at the sound so spirit- stirring Felt a thrill of hope and courage pass along their shattered ranks. 128 WERNER'S READINGS By the wind the smoke-cloud lifted lightly, drifted to the nor'ward, And displayed in all their pride the scarlet foe; We beheld them with a steady tramp and fearless, moving forward With their banners proudly waving, and their bayonets levelled low. Morgan gave his order clearly, " Fall back nearly to the border Of the hill, and let the enemy come nigher! " Oh ! they thought we had retreated, and they charged in fierce disorder, When out rang the voice of Howard, " To the right about, face! Fire!" Then upon our very wheeling came the pealing of our volley, And our balls made red a pathway down the hill; Broke the foe, and shrank and cowered ; rang again the voice of Howard, " Give the hireling dogs the bayonet! " and we did it with a will. In the meanwhile, one red-coated troop, unuoted, riding faster Than their comrades on our rear in fury bore ; But the light-horse led by Washington soon brought it to disaster, For they shattered it and scattered it, and smote it fast and sore. Like a herd of startled cattle from the battlefield we drove them ; In disorder down the Mill-gap road they fled ; Tarleton led them in the racing, fast he fled before our chasing, And he stopped not for the dying, and he staid not for the dead. Down the Mill-gap road they scurried and they hurried with such fleetness — We had never seen such running in our lives! Ran they swifter than if seeking homes to taste domestic sweetness, Having many years been parted from their children and their wives. AND RECITATIONS. 129 In their midst I saw one trooper, and around his waist I noted Tied a simple silken scarf of blue and white; When my vision grasped it clearly, to my hatred I devoted Him, from all the hireling wretches who were mingled there in flight. For that token in the summer had been from our cabin taken By the robber-hands of wrongers of my kin; 'Twas my sister's — for the moment things around me were for- saken — I was blind to fleeing foeman, I was deaf to battle's din. Olden comrades round me lying dead or dying were unheeded — Vain to me they looked for succor in their need; O'er the corses of the soldiers, through the gory pools I speeded, Driving rowel-deep my spurs within my madly-bounding steed. As I came he turned, and staring at my glaring eyes he shivered; Pallid fear went quickly o'er his features grim; As he grasped his sword in terror, every nerve within him quivered — For his guilty spirit told him why I solely sought for him. Though the stroke I dealt he parried, onward carried, down I bore him — Horse and rider — down together went the twain: "Quarter!" — He! that scarf had doomed him! Stood a son and brother o'er him, I Down through plume and brass and leather went my sabre to the brain — Never music like that crashing through the skull-bone to the brain. 9 130 . WERNER'S READINGS MARION'S DINNER. EDWARD C. JONES. [A British officer, sent to negotiate an exchange of prisoners, was con- ducted into Marion's encampment. There the scene took place which is here commemorated. The young officer was so deeply affected by the sen- timents of Marion, that he subsequently resigned his commission and re- tired from the British service.] THEY sat on the trunk of a fallen pine, And their plate was a piece of bark, And the sweet potatoes were superfine, Though bearing the embers' mark; But Tom, with the sleeve of his cotton shirt, The embers had brushed away, And then to the brook, with a step alert, He hied on that gala day. The British officer tried to eat, But his nerves were out of tune, And ill at ease on his novel seat, While absent both knife and spoon, Said he, " You give me but Lenten fare, Is the table thus always slim? Perhaps with a Briton you will not share The cup with a flowing brim! " Then Marion put his potato down, On the homely plate of bark ; He had to smile, for he could not frown, While gay as the morning lark : " 'Tis a royal feast I provide to-day; Upon roots we rebels dine, And in freedom's service we draw no pay, Is that code of ethics thine? " AND RECITATIONS. 131 Then, with flashing eye and with heaving breast, He looked to the azure sky, And, said he, with a firm, undaunted crest, " Our trust is in God on high ! The hard, hard ground is a downy bed, And hunger its fang foregoes, And noble and firm is the soldier's tread, In the face of his country's foes." The officer gazed on that princely brow, Where valor and genius shone, And upon that fallen pine his vow Went up to his Maker's throne: " I will draw no sword against men like these, It would drop from a nerveless hand ; And the very blood in my heart would freeze, If I faced such a Spartan band." From Marion's camp, with a saddened mien, He hastened with awe away, The Sons of Anak his eyes had seen, And a giant race were they. No more on the tented field was he, And rich was the truth he learned, That men who could starve for liberty Can neither be crushed, nor spurned. THE FIELDS OF WAR. ISAAC M'LELLAN, JR. THEY rise, by stream and yellow shore, By mountain, moor, and fen; By weedy rock and torrent hoar, And lonesome forest glen ! 132 WERNER'S READINGS From many a woody, moss-grown mound Start forth a war-worn band, As when, of old, they caught the sound Of hostile arms, and closed around To guard their native land. Hark ! to the clanging horn ! Hark ! to the rolling drum ! Arms glitter in the flash of morn — The hosts to battle come! The serried files, the plumed troop, Are marshalled once again, Along the Hudson's mountain-group, Along the Atlantic main! On Bunker, at the dead of night, I seem to view the raging fight, The burning town, the smoky height, The onset, the retreat ! And down the banks of Brandywine I see the levelled bayonets shine, And lurid clouds of battle twine, Where struggling columns meet. Yorktown and Trenton blaze once more, And by the Delaware's frozen shore The hostile guns at midnight roar, The hostile shouts arise; The snows of Valley Forge grow red, And Saratoga's field is spread "With heaps of undistinguished dead, And filled with dying cries! 'Tis o'er! The battle-shout has died By ocean, stream, and mountain-side, AND RECITATIONS. 133 And the bright harvest, far and wide, Waves o'er the blood-drenched field ; The rank grass o'er it greenly grows, And oft the upturning shares disclose The buried arms and bones of those Who fell, but would not yield ! Time's rolling chariot hath effaced The very hillocks, where they placed The bodies of the dead in haste When closed the furious fight; The ancient fort and rampant mound Long since have settled to the ground, On Bunker's famous height; And the last relics of the brave Are sinking to oblivion's grave! AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN. WASHINGTON" ALLSTON. ALL hail! thou noble land, Our fathers' native soil ! Oh, stretch thy mighty hand, Gigantic grown by toil, O'er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore; For thou, with magic might, Canst reach to where the light Of Phoebus travels bright The world o'er. The genius of our clime, From his pine-embattled steep, Shall hail the great sublime; While the Tritons of the deep, L34 WERNER'S READINGS With their conches the kindred league shall proclaim. Then let the world combine ! O'er the main our naval line, Like the milky way, shall shine Bright in fame! Though ages long have passed Since our fathers left their home, Their pilot in the blast, O'er untravelled seas to roam, j Yet lives the blood of England in our veins; And shall we not proclaim That blood of honest fame, Which no tyranny can tame By its chains? While the language, free and bold, Which the bard of Avon sung, In which our Milton told How the vault of heaven rung, When Satan, blasted, fell with all his host; While this, with reverence meet, Ten thousand echoes greet, From rock to rock repeat Bound our coast. While the manners, while the arts, That mould a nation's soul, Still cling around our hearts, Between let ocean roll, Our joint communion breaking with the sun; Yet still, from either beach The voice of blood shall reach, More audible than speech, " We are one! " AND RECITATIONS. 135 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL TO HIS ARMY. THE chieftain gazed with moistened eyes upon the veteran band, Who with him braved the battle's storm for God and native land; At last the parting hour had come — from prairie, mount, and sea, The glad shout burst from countless hearts : " Our land, our land is free! " Then up from every altar rose a hymn of praise to God, Who nerved the patriot hearts and arms to free their native sod; The stormy strife of grief and gloom, of blood and death, was o'er, The heroes who survived its wrath might seek their homes once more. With bared heads bowed, and swelling hearts, they gathered round their chief; The parting day to them was one of mingled joy and grief; They thought of all his love and care, his patience sorely tried, I Of how he shared their wants and woes, and with them death defied. They looked back to that fearful night when, 'mid the storm, he stood iBeside the icy Delaware to guide them o'er the flood; Back to red fields where, thick as leaves upon an autumn day, The tawny savage warriors and British foemen lay. They thought of many a cheerless camp where lay the sick and dead, (Whereof that stately form was bent o'er many a sufferer's bed; Well had he won the deathless love of all that patriot band — ITheir friend and guide, their nation's hope, the savior of their land. He, too, saw all they had endured to break their country's chains, Their naked footprints stamped in blood on Jersey's frozen plains; '36 WERNER'S READINGS The gloomy huts at Valley Forge, where winter's icy breath Froze many a brave heart's crimson flow, chained many an arm in death. And, looking on their war-thinned ranks, he sighed for those who fell; It stirred the depths of his great heart to say the word " Farewell!" He saw strong men who, facing death, had never thought of fear, Dash from their scarred and sun-browned cheeks the quickly gushing tear. He stood in the receding boat, his noble brow laid bare, And the wild fingers of the breeze tossing his silv'ry hair, While to his trusty followers, the sternly tried and true, Whose sad eyes watched him from the shore, he waved a last adieu. Earth shows no laureled conqueror so truly great as he Who laid the sword and power aside when once his land was free, Who calmly sought his quiet home when freedom's fight was won, While with one voice the nation cried: "God bless our Washing- ton! " PREDICTIONS CONCERNING THE FOURTH OF JULY. JOHN ADAMS. HAD a Declaration of Independence been made seven months ago, it would have been attended with many great and glorious effects. We might, before this hour, have formed alliance with foreign states. We should have mastered Quebec, and been in possession of Canada. You will, perhaps, wonder how such a declaration would have influenced our affairs in Canada; but if I could speak with free- dom, I could easily convince you that it would, and explain to you the manner how. Many gentlemen in high stations and of great AND RECITATIONS. 137 i influence have been duped, by the miDisterial bubble of commis- sioners, to treat; and in real sincere expectation of this event, which they so fondly wished, they have been slow and languid in promoting measures for the reduction of that province. Others there are in the Colonies who really wished that our enterprise in Canada would be defeated, that the Colonies might be brought into danger and distress between two fires, and be thus induced to sub- mit. Others really wished to defeat the expedition to Canada, lest the conquest of it should elevate the minds of the people too much to hearken to those terms of reconciliation which they believed would be offered to us. These jarring views, wishes, and designs occasioned an opposition to many salutary measures which were proposed for the support of that expedition, and caused obstruc- tions, embarrassments, and studied delays which have finally lost us the province. All these causes, however, in conjunction, would have not dis- appointed us, if it had not been for a misfortune which could not have been foreseen, and perhaps could not have been prevented. I mean the prevalence of the small-pox among our troops. This fatal pestilence completed our destruction. It is a frown of Providence upon us, which we ought to lay to heart. But, on the other hand, the delay of this declaration to this time has many great advantages attending it. The hopes of recon- ciliation which were fondly entertained by multitudes of honest and well-meaning, though short-sighted and mistaken, people, have been gradually, and at last totally, extinguished. Time has been given for the whole people maturely to consider the great question of independence, and to ripen their judgment, dissipate their fears, and allure their hopes, by discussing it in newspapers and pamphlets, by debating it in assemblies, conventions, commit- tees of safety and inspection, in town and county meetings, as well as in private conversations; so that the whole people, in every Colony, have now adopted it as their own act. This will cement the union, and avoid those heats, and perhaps convulsions, which might have been occasioned by suoh a declaration six months ago. 138 WERNER'S READINGS But the day is past. The second day of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward forever. You maj think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil and blood and treasure that it will cost us to maintain this declaration, and support and defend these states. Yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory. I can see that the end is more than worth all the means, and that posterity will triumph, although you and I may rue — which I hope we shall not. THE SOUTH IN THE REVOLUTION. EOBEET YOUNG HAYNE. IF there be one State in the Union, and I say it not in a boast- ful spirit, that may challenge comparisons with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina. From the very commence- ment of the Revolution, up to this hour, there is no sacrifice, how- ever great, she has not cheerfully made, no service she has ever hesitated to perform. She has adhered to you in your prosperity ; but in }^our adversity she has clung to you with more than filial affection. ISTo matter what was the condition of her domestic affairs, though deprived of her resources, divided by parties, or surrounded by difficulties, the call of the country has been to her as the voice of God. Domestic discord ceased at the sound ; every man became at once reconciled to his brethren, and the sons of Carolina were all seen crowding together to the temple, bringing their gifts to the altar of their common country. AND RECITATIONS. 139 What was the conduct of the South during the Eevolution? I honor New England for her conduct in that glorious struggle. But, great as is the praise which belongs to her, I think at least equal honor is due to the South. They espoused the quarrel of their brethren with a generous zeal which did not suffer them to stop to calculate their interest in the dispute./ Favorites of the mother country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to create a commercial rivalship, they might have found, in their situation, a guarantee that their trade would be forever fostered and protected by Great Britain. But trampling on all considerations, either of interest or of safety, they rushed into the conflict, and, fighting for principle, perilled, all in the sacred cause of freedoms Never was there exhibited in the history of the world higher examples of noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance than by the Whigs of Carolina during the Revolution! The whole state, from the mountains to the sea, was overrun by an overwhelm- ing force of the enemy. The fruits of industry perished on the spot where they were produced, or were consumed by the foe. The "plains of Carolina" drank up the most precious blood of her citizens. Black and smoking ruins marked the places which had been the habitations of her children. Driven from their homes into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, even there the spirit of liberty survived, and South Carolina, sustained by the ex- ample of her Sumters and her Marions, proved, by her conduct, that, though her soil might be overrun, the spirit of her people was invincible. 140 WERNER'S READINGS Period V — WAR OF 1812.— MEXICAN WAR. 1812 — 1849. THE STORY OF THE SWORDS. ADELAIDE C. WALDRON. WHERE the sunset glory falls On my else so naked walls, Crossed with a blade of later day Hangs a sword that far away, When the world was in its youth, Fought for country, love, and truth. Graven in strange characters on the gleaming supple steel, Sworn by son to sire for centuries to keep through woe and weal, Is the legend — " Without reason, draw me not: without honor, sheathe me not." Forth it sprang in righteous wrath If a coward crossed its path ; Out it leaped like a tongue of flame If a light word with the name Of a woman soiled the air ; On it flashed through dull despair, As through sanguine dream of victory, at the bugle-call ; Whoso held it sworn forever to give love and life and all For the legend — " Without reason, draw me not: without honor, sheathe me not." Now it hangeth quietly, Jewels shining steadily AND RECITATIONS. 141 In its wonderful war-worn head, In its quaint and war-worn head; And their beauty, fine and true, Like eternal drops of dew, Casts the glamour of the past over all the haunting dreams Of the deadliness that sleepeth there, while ever brightly gleams The old legend — " Without reason, draw me not : without honor, sheathe me not " And the blade of later time — Straight and plain, unmarked by rhyme, Bearing no motto old and quaint, Wearing only, in letters faint, Date and name, and with no gem Fit for kingly diadem i Glittering in its slender hilt — deserves as well the poet's rhyme, And the clinging crown of laurel, as the sword of ancient time, With the legend — • " Without reason, draw me not: without honor, sheathe me not." Synonym for grace of mien, And for virtues rarely seen, Is the old untarnished name Graven on this blade ; and fame Dropped a wreath of immortelles — White and golden immortelles — '• On the head that Death laid low, face and hand against the foe, In the hand this sword informed with the spirit and the glow Of the legend — '" Without reason, draw me not: without honor, sheathe me not." Heroes many live and die, W T hom fame's trumpet passes by; Rough of speech, uncouth, unkempt, Of world's grace they never dreamt: 142 WERNER'S READINGS But within a homely shell Perfect pearls perchance may dwell; Thus these homely hearts heroic, in the hour of need are found Wanting naught; their swords are guided, though they never heard its sound, By the legend — "Without reason, draw me not: without honor, sheathe me not." Swords so wielded worthily May be crossed with these you see Hanging now so quietly, Hanging now so peacefully, Where the golden glory falls On my else so barren walls: Jewelled hilt and bending blade, or the straight and naked steel, Each is precious if the soul that impelleth it doth feel The old legend — "Without reason, draw me not: without honor, sheathe me not." THE LOST WAR-SLOOP. [The Wasp, 1814.] EDNA DEAN" PROCTOR. [In November, 1812, the British sloop Frolic was captured by the sloop Wasp ; but the Wasp was taken immediately after by the Poictiers, a British seventy -four.] OH! the pride of Portsmouth water, Toast of every brimming beaker — Eighteen hundred and fourteen on land and sea- Was the Wasp, the gallant war-sloop, Built of oaks Kearsarge had guarded, Pines of Maine to lift her colors high and free! Every timber scorning cowards; Every port alert for foeman AND RECITATIONS. 143 Prom the masthead seen on weather-side or lee ; "With eleven guns to starboard, And eleven guns to larboard, All for glory on a morn of May sailed she. British ships were in the offing; Swift and light she sped between them — Well her daring crew knew shoal and wind and tide; They had come from Portsmouth river, Sea-girt Marblehead and Salem, Bays and islands where the fisher-folk abide; Come for love of home and country, Come with wrongs that cried for vengeance, Every man among them brave and true and tried. " Hearts of oak " are British seamen? Hearts of fire were these, their kindred, Flaming till the haughty foe should be descried ! From the mountains, from the prairies Blew the west winds glad to waft her — ■ xVh, what goodly ships before her guns went down! Ships with wealth of London laden, Ships with treasures of the Indies, Till her name brought fear to British wharf and town; Till the war-sloops Reindeer^ Avon To her valor struck their colors, Making coast and ocean ring with her renown: While her captain cried exultant, " Britain, to the bold Bepublic, Of the empire of the seas shall yield the crown! " 1 Oh, the woful, woful ending Of the pride of Portsmouth water! Never more to harbor nor to shore came she! Springs returned but brought no tidings; 144 WERNER'S READINGS Mothers, maidens, broken-hearted Wept the gallant lads that sailed away in glee. Did the bolts of heaven blast her? Did the hurricanes o'erwhelm her With her starry banner and her tall masts three? Was a pirate fleet her captor? Did she drift to polar oceans? Who shall tell the awful secret of the sea! Who shall tell? Yet many a sailor In his watch at dawn or midnight, When the wind is wildest and the black waves moan, Sees a stanch three-master looming ; Hears the hurried call to quarters, The drum's quick beat and the bugle fiercely blown; Then the cannon's direful thunder Echoes far along the billows: Then the victor's shout for the foe overthrown; And the watcher knows the phantom Is the Wasp, the gallant war-sloop, Still a rover of the seas and glory's own! BOY BRITTON. [August, 1814.] FORCEYTHE WILLSON". BOY Britton, only a lad, a fair-haired boy, sixteen In his uniform. Into the storm, into the roaring jaws of grim Fort Henry, Boldly bears the Federal flotilla, Into the battle storm. Boy Britton is master's mate aboard the Essex, There he stands, buoyant and eagle-eyed, By the brave captain's side; AND RECITATIONS. 145 Jeady to do or dare; "Aye, aye, sir," always ready In his country's uniform! 3oom ! boom ! and now the flag-boat sweeps ind now the Essex is plunged Into the battle's storm. Boom ! boom ! till river and fort and field \re overclouded by the battle's breath; Then from the fort a gleam and a crashing gun, ind the Essex is wrapped and shrouded En a scalding cloud of steam. But victory! victory! Unto God all praise be rendered, Unto God all praise and glory be ; See, Boy Britton, see, boy, see, They strike ! hurrah ! the fort has surrendered ! Shout! shout! my warrior boy, And wave your cap, and clap your hands for joy. 3heer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about. Eurrah ! hurrah ! for the fiery fort is ours. 'Victory! victory! victory!" is the shout. Shout ! for the fiery fort is ours, And the field, and the day are ours! The day is ours, thanks to the brave endeavor Of heroes, boy, like thee ! The day is ours, the day is ours ! Glory and deathless love to all who shared with thee, And bravely endured and dared with thee, The day is ours, the day is ours forever! Glory and love for one and all, but, for thee, Home! home! a happy welcome, welcome home, for thee, And a mother's happy tears, and a virgin's Bridal wreath of flowers for thee. 10 146 WERNER'S READINGS Victory! victory! But suddenly wrecked and wrapped in seething steam The Essex slowly drifted out of the battle storm. Slowly, slowly, down, laden with the dead and dying, And there at the captain's feet, among the dead and dying The shot-marred form of a beautiful boy is lying, There in his uniform. Laurels and tears for thee, boy, laurels and tears for thee; Laurels of light moist with the precious d§w Of the inmost heart of the nation's loving heart, And blest by the balmy breath of the beautiful and the true, Moist, moist with the luminous breath of the singing spheres, And the nation's starry tears; And tremble touched by the pulse-like gush and start, Of the universal music of the heart, And all deep sympathy. Laurels and tears for thee, boy, laurels and tears for thee, Laurels of light and tears of love, forevermore for thee. And laurels of light, and tears of truth, And the mantle of immortality; And the flowers of love, and immortal youth, And the tender heart-tokens of all true ruth, And the everlasting victory. And the breath and bliss of liberty, And the loving kiss of liberty. And the welcoming light of heavenly eyes, And the over calm of God's canopy; And the infinite love-span of the skies, That covers the valleys of Paradise, For all of the brave who rest with thee; And for one and all who died with thee, And now sleep side by side with thee ; And for everyone who lives and dies AND RECITATIONS. 147 3n the solid land, or the heaving sea, Dear warrior boy, like thee ! )n, the victory, the victory belongs to thee! xod ever keeps the brightest crown for such as thou, le gives it now to thee. foung and brave, and early and thrice blest, Thrice, thrice, thrice blest! Dhy country turns once more to kiss thy youthful brow, bid takes thee gently, gently to her breast, bid whispers lovingly, " God bless thee, bless thee now, My darling, thou shalt rest! " SPEECH OF RED JACKET. [Red Jacket — Sa-go-ye-wat-ha, his Indian name, meaning " He keeps hem awake " — was one of the most powerful chiefs of the Six Nations, tie head of the Senecas, New York. During the Revolution his activity nd intelligence acquired for him the friendship of the British officers, mo, as a compliment or for services rendered, gave him a richly em- roidered scarlet jacket which he wore with great pride, and from it ras given to him his English name. Red Jacket was a man of great elo- uence, and truthfully stated of himself, " I am an orator ! 1 was born n orator ! " In the summer of 1805 a missionary was sent to the Six Tations by the Evangelical Missionary Society of Massachusetts to plant station among the Senecas. A council of chiefs was convoked to hear is proposals, and after two hours' consultation Red Jacket made reply.] 3 EOTHEK, listen to what we say. There was a time when _) our forefathers owned this great island. Their seats ex- 3nded from the rising to the setting sun. The Great Spirit had iade it for the use of the Indians. He had created the buffalo, ie deer, and other animals for food. He had scattered them over ie country and taught us how to take them. He had caused the arth to produce cora for bread. All this he had done for his red ihildren, because he loved them. If we had some disputes about ur hunting ground, they were generally settled without the shed- ing of much blood. But an evil day came upon us. Your fore- 148 WERNER'S READINGS fathers crossed the great water and landed on this island. They found friends and not enemies. They told us they had fled from their own country for fear of wicked men, and had come here to enjoy their religion. They asked for a small seat. We took pity on them and granted their request. They sat down among us. We gave them corn and meat. They gave us poison in return. They called us brothers. We believed them, and gave them a larger seat. They wanted more land; they wanted our country. Our eyes were opened and our minds became uneasy. Indians were hired to fight against Indians, and many of our people were de stroyed. Brother, you have now become a great people, and we have scarcely a place left to spread our blankets. You have got our country, but are not satisfied ; you want to force your religion upon us. You say that you are sent to instruct us how to worship the Great Spirit agreeably to his mind, and if we do not take hold of the religion which you white people teach, we shall be unhappy hereafter. How do we know this to be true? We only know what you tell us about it. How shall we know when to believe, being so often deceived by the white people? We understand that your religion is written in a book. If there is but one religion, why do you white people differ so much about it? Why not all agree, as you can all read the book? Brother, we do not understand these things. We are told that your religion was given to your forefathers, and has been handed down from father to son. We also have a religion, which was given to our forefathers and has been handed down to their chil- dren. It teaches us to be thankful for all the favors we receive, to love each other, and to be united. We never quarrel about religion. We are told that you have been preaching to the white people in this place. These people are our neighbors. We will wait a little while and see what effect } T our preaching has upon them. If we find it does them good, makes them honest, and less disposed to cheat Indians, we will consider again what you have said. AND RECITATIONS. 149 THE BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. [The battle of Tippecanoe was fought November 5th, 1811, on the banks if Tippecanoe River, Indiana, now the village of Battle Ground, between he Americans under General Harrison and the Indians under a brother of he famous Tecumseh.] AWAKE! awake! my gallant friends; To arms ! to arms ! the foe is nigh ; The sentinel his warning sends And hark ! the treacherous savage cry ! Awake! to arms! The word goes round; The drum's deep roll, the fife's shrill sound, The trumpet's blast, proclaim through night On Indian band, a bloody fight. Oh, haste thee, Baen ! alas! too late; A red chief's arm now aims the blow; An early but a glorious fate — The tomahawk hath laid thee low. Dread darkness reigns. On, Davies, on! Where's Boyd and valiant Harrison, Commander of the white man's force? And Owen? He's a bleeding corse! "Stand, comrades brave, stand to your post! Here's Wells and Floyd and Barton; all Must now be won or now be lost ; Ply briskly bayonet, sword, and ball." Thus spoke the general, when a yell Was heard as though a hero fell ; And, hark! the Indian whoop again — It is for daring Davies slain ! 150 WERNERS READINGS Oh, fearful is the battle's rage! No lady's hand is iu the fray, But brawny limbs the contest wage And struggle for the victor's day. Lo! Spencer sinks, and Warwick's slain, And lifeless bodies strew the plain ; And yells and groans and clang and roar Echo along the Wabash shore. But mark where breaks upon the eye Aurora's beam ! The coming day Shall foil a frantic prophecy And Christian valor well display. Ne'er did Constantine's soldiers see With more of joy for victory Across the arch of heaven adorn Than these the blushing of the morn. Bold Boyd led on his steady band With, bristling bayonets burnished bright; What could their dauntless charge withstand What stay the warriors' matchless might? Rushing amain, they cleared the field; The savage foe compelled to yield To Harrison, who, near and far, Gave form and spirit to the war. Sound, sound the charge! Spur, spur the steed! And swift the fugitives pursue; 'Tis vain! rein in — your utmost speed Could not o'ertake the recreant crew. In lowland marsh or dell or cave Each Indian sought his life to save, Whence, peering forth, with fear and ire He saw at last his town on fire. AND RECITATIONS. 151 Now the great Eagle of the West Triumphant wing was seen to wave; And now each soldier's manly breast Sighed o'er his fallen comrade's grave. Some dropped a tear and mused awhile, Then joined in measured march their file; And here and there cast wistful eye That might surviving friend descry. But let a foe again appear Or East, or West, or South, or North, The soldier then shall dry the tear And, fearless, gayly sally forth. With lightning eye and warlike front He'll meet the battle's deadly brunt; Come Indian, Briton — if arrayed For fight, he'll feel a freeman's blade! TO A PORTRAIT OF RED JACKET. FITZ GREENE HALLECK. c OOPER, whose name is with his country's woven, First in her files, her pioneer of mind — A wanderer now in other climes, has proven His love for the young land he left behind; And throned her in the senate-hall of nations Eobed like the deluge rainbow, heaven-wrought, Magnificent as his own mind's creations And beautiful as its green world of thought. If he were with me, King of Tuscarora ! Gazing, as I, upon thy portrait now, In all its medalled, fringed, and beaded glory, Its eye's dark beauty, and its thoughtful brow — 152 WERNERS READINGS Its brow half martial and half diplomatic, Its eye upsoaring like an eagle's wing — Well might he boast that we, the democratic, Outrival Europe even in our kings! For thou wast monarch born. Tradition's pages Tell not the planting of thy parent tree, But that the forest tribes have bent for ages To thee, and to thy sires, the subject knee. Thy name is princely — if no poet's magic Could make Red Jacket grace an English rhyme, Though some one with a genius for the tragic Hath introduced it in a pantomime. Yet it is music in the language spoken Of thine own land, and on her herald-roll As bravely fought for, and as proud a token As Coeur de Lion's of a warrior soul. Thy garb — though Austria's bosom-star would frighten That medal pale as diamonds the dark mine, And George the Fourth wore at his court at Brighton A more becoming evening dress than thine — Yet 'tis a brave one, scorning wind and weather And fitted for thy couch on field or flood, As Rob Roy's tartan for the Highland heather Or forest green for England's Robin Hood. Is strength a monarch's merit, like a whaler's? Thou art as tall, as sinewy, and as strong As earth's first kings — the Argo's gallant sailors, Heroes in history and gods in song. AND RECITATIONS. 15 3 Is eloquence? Her spell is thine that reaches The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport; And there's one rare strange virtue in thy speeches, The secret of their mastery — they are short! Who will believe? Not I, for in deceiving Lies the dear charm of life's delightful dream; I cannot spare the luxury of believing That all things beautiful are what they seem. Who will believe that — with a smile whose blessing Would, like the Patriarch's, soothe a dying hour; With voice as low, as gentle, and caressing As e'er won maiden's lip in moonlit bower; With look like patient Job's eschewing evil; With motions graceful as a bird's in air, — Thou art, in sober truth, the veriest devil That e'er clenched fingers in a captive's hair. And underneath that face, like summer ocean's, Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear, Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions, Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow — all, save fear. Love for thy land, as if she were thy daughter, Her pipe in peace, her tomahawk in wars; Hatred of missionaries and cold water; Pride in thy rifle trophies and thy scars. Hope that thy wrongs may be, by the Great Spirit, Eemembered and revenged when thou art gone; Sorrow that none are left thee to inherit Thy name, thy fame, thy passions, and thy throne ! 154 WERNER'S READINGS WHAT WAKED THE WORLD. ALBIOJST W. TOUKGEE. TIME fled. The world moved faster than ever before. T telegraph was beginning to unify thought. Like a gia centipede it crept over the land. It murdered sloth and ran ahe of time. It stole the merchant's secret and sold it to a rival thousand leagues away. It made principal and agent one. It f brain with fact and gave to mind the ubiquity of the Infinite, made every man an Adam and marshalled the world's life bef him. The curtain of darkness was rent in twain, and beyond t Mississippi a boundless empire was revealed. The Golden Ga were uplifted, and the traditions of the Orient were beggai by the facts of the Occident. For two hundred years the woi had hungered for gold and found no new supply. The temples a palaces of India had been ravaged by ruthless hands to satisfy ti greed of civilization. The jewels of her gods shone in the ro; crowns of Europe. Brave men wore with pride the gems tl valor had won from heathen hands. The world was base a man was greedy. For a hundred }^ears the supply of the precic metals had steadily diminished. Commerce had increased me^ while a thousandfold. The accepted basis of exchange had gro 1 less and less sufficient for the world's need. Already the hum mind was busy devising substitutes. Production was limited, 1 by demand or by capacity for supply, but by the difficulty of trai port and the paucity of an indestructible measure of value. " Go! Gold! Gold!" was the hopeless cry of all the world. It v generally believed that the earth was virtually exhausted of precic minerals, and no one supposed that the supply would ever be n terially enhanced. The width of the continent transformed boundless wealth ii pitiable poverty. Where nothing was expected, infinite possi bill uprose. Fifteen years before, a Congressional report had sai. AND RECITATIONS. 155 So man will, after a moment's reflection, suppose that the country yond the sandy prairies in the West and North can ever become umbers of this Union. They are scarcely less distant than the ast of Africa, and are separated from us by a breadth of conti- ,nt requiring more time and expense to traverse than the ocean elf." A noted politician, who yet lives to laugh at his own folly, d in a public speech upon the acquisition of California, holding veil-worn pencil up before his auditors, " I would not give that ncil-stub for all the gold that will ever be found there," and II hearers applauded his wisdom. No wonder the world woke with amazement from such dreams i ran wild when golden plains and silver mountains outspread 3mselves before its famished eyes. All Christendom felt the cob of an insatiable greed. The lust of sudden wealth thrilled er and pauper. The desert that lay between was robbed of fear, .e tropic sun blazed down in vain upon the reckless wayfarers. :e glint of gold outshone the stars. Distance could not dim it. fnculty could not quench desire. A grain of yellow dust in- med a hundred hearts. A single nugget fired a thousand souls mew exertion. Men wbo would have died clods lived to be Vied of princes through the lust born of a gold-streaked lump of Wy quartz shown in a shop window. Thousands failed. Thou- tds died. The highways to the land of promise became endless xrnels. Dead men's bones pointed the way to those who came er. The sharks of the southern seas grew fat on frequent corpses ; over the dead all the more greedily pressed the living. For ryone that fell there were a thousand that sprang up. For ryone that went there were ten thousand that sought to go. I everyone that came back laden there were a million who lamed that they might some time know a like good fortune; 1, because of this dream, wrought more earnestly, saved more f sistently, and so achieved more richly than they otherwise would m done. Thus science and greed stirred the world into new Wherever trade went the fever flew. Gold flowed through the 156 WERNER'S READINGS world like water in comparison with the dearth that had been. Half a decade yielded more than half a century had given before. "Dust," and " nugget " grew familiar to all eyes. The slang of the mining-camp crept into the world's speech. Palms that had only known shillings were gladdened with crowns. The child leaped from his cradle to join in the struggle for gold. The peas- ant's heart grew big and his arm waxed strong as he saw a possi- bility that he might yet be richer than his king. Mammon gave his right hand to Democracy. The yellow, molten torrent under- mined the throne and made the crown look dim. The highways of empire were opened to the humblest feet. The doors of kings' palaces were unbarred, and unwashed feet poured through the sanc- tuaries of power. Wooden shoes gave place to golden sandals. Miracles were multiplied. Where one had risen a step before, a thousand were to reach the top thereafter. Rank was cheapened, manhood magnified. Those above were not dragged down, but those below were forced upward. The world was started on a race which grew more fierce and headlong as the years went by. The past was swept away as with a burning besom. The future bloomed with hope. A flood-tide marked the century's zenith. In that same hour freedom and slavery cast their eyes upon the new domain. Both were inspired by greed. The free North de- manded that at least a part of the fertile plains, the golden sands and the silver-veined heights should be held as an arena, wherein every man might struggle with his fellow for the prizes of life without let or hindrance from another's will. The South demanded that the institution most favored by the Constitution, and especially nourished and protected by the laws of the states in which it had taken root, should also be protected in the territories of the United States not yet organized under municipal forms or erected into self-governing states. A thrill of angry apprehension passed through the whole North. People knew that a great crisis was at hand, but none could trace its outcome. A few were confident that liberty would triumph. Others counted slavery the victor, and yet sullenly resisted ; while still others thought the whole AND RECITATIONS. 157 matter ended, and looked for the old parties to muster their hosts again on the old familiar grounds that had been fought over quad- rennially for threescore years. DEATH OF HARRISON. H". P. WILLIS. [William Henry Harrison, ninth President of the United States, was inaugurated March 4, 1841, and died April 4, just one month after his inauguration. He was the son of Benjamin Harrison, of Virginia, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. In 1801 he was Gov- ernor of Indiana. In the war of 1812 he was at the head of the American army, and displayed great military talent. He was the first President who died in office, and his loss was universally lamented.] I WHAT ! soared the old eagle to die at the sun ! Lies he stiff with spread wings at the goal he had won# Are there spirits more blest than the "planets of even," Who mount to their zenith, then melt into heaven — No waning of fire, no quench iug of ray, But rising, still rising, when passing away? Farewell, gallant eagle! — thou'rt buried in light! God speed into heaven, lost star of our night! Death ! Death in the White House ! Ah, never before, Trod his skeleton foot on the President's floor! He is looked for in hovel, and dreaded in hall, The king in his closet keeps hatchment and pall, The youth in his birthplace, the old man at home, Make clean from the door-stone the path to the tomb; But the lord of this mansion was cradled not here — In a church-yard far off stands his beckoning bier. He is here as the wave-crest heaves flashing on high, As the arrow is stopped by its prize in the sky, 158 WERNER'S READINGS The arrow to earth and the foam to the shore — Death finds them when swiftness and sparkle are o'er; But Harrison's death fills the climax of story, He went, with his old stride, from glory to glory ! Lay his sword on his breast ! There's no spot on its blade In whose cankering breath his bright laurels will fade ! 'Twas the first to lead on at humanity's call, It was stayed with sweet mercy when " glory " was all! As calm in the council as gallant in war, He fought for his country, and not its " hurrah ! " In the path of the hero with pity he trod ; Let him pass, with his sword, to the presence of God! What more? Shall we on with his ashes? Yet, stay! He hath ruled the wide realm of a king in his day! At his word, like a monarch's, went treasure and land, The bright gold of thousands has passed through his hand ; Is there nothing to show of his glittering hoard? Nor jewel to dock the rude hilt of his sword? No trappings? no horses? what had he, but now? On, on with his ashes ! he left but his plough ! Brave old Cincinnatus! Unwind ye his sheet! Let him sleep as he lived — with his purse at his feet! Follow now, as ye list! The first mourner to-day Is the nation, whose father is taken away ! Wife, children, and neighbor, may moan at his knell; He was "lover and friend" to his country, as well! For the stars on our banner, grown suddenly dim, Let us weep, in our darkness, but weep not for him! Not for him, who, departing, leaves millions in tears; Not for him, who has died full of honor and years; Not for him, who ascended fame's ladder so high From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky! AND RECITATIONS. 159 Period VL— CIVIL WAR.— EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. 1861— 1864. REAWAKENING. [1861—1889.] CAEL SPENCER. UPON their arms they lay and slept ; Ashamed the mother o'er them wept! They, who were set to lead the van, Had stayed the forward march of man, Nor half their ancient promise kept. Far off, they heard the earthquake's shock, They heard insurgent Europe's mock. It said, " The Pilgrims' faith is cold, Their children care for naught but gold." They heard and lingered, dreaming still, Whose fathers fought at Bunker's Hill, Whose mothers prayed on Plymouth Eock. Upon their arms they slept, they dreamed; Valor seemed dead — but only seemed ; For suddenly a bugle blew — Up sprang the warriors, false and true, And all the sleeping palace rang With trumpet peal and sabre clang, And freedom's beauty bloomed anew. 160 WERNER'S READINGS Ah, for those days when men were men! Each house had heroes in it then. Ah, for those days when faith illumed The hearts it burned in, unconsumed! "Women were angels then, in truth ; And age grew young again, and youth Had tenfold life to lavish then. Ah, then the mother rose up proud, And, smiling through the sorrow cloud, Once more her eye shot forth the ray That lights the nations on their way. Fast flowed the glorious, awful strife, A thousand years of mortal life Melted in one immortal day. God of battles! breathe again The spirit that makes gods of men ! For now the patriot heart beats low ; A sordid age hath dimmed the glow. Once in our markets men were sold ; Now, they sell freedom's self for gold, And freemen bear to have it so ! God of nations! stoop to break This spell, ere yet Thy judgments wake! Strike through this later, darker crime, The light of that revealing time! Shame back the robbers from the soil Thou gav'st our martyrs for a spoil, And save us for the fathers' sake! Save us who, counting triumphs won, Add Gettysburg to Lexington ! Whose priceless heritage profaned AND RECITATIONS. 161 Hath twice been hallowed, twice regained. Oh, shame on us, if we despair, Knowing what kindred hearts could dare, Or leave our lighter work undone ! THE PRESENT CRISIS. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. WHEN a deed is done for freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from East to West; And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb, To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of time. For mankind are one in spirit, and an instinct bears along Round the earth's electric circle the swift flash of right or wrong; Whether conscious or unconscious, yet humanity's vast frame Through its ocean-sundered fibres feels the gush of joy or shame — In the gain or loss of one race all the rest have equal claim. Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right, And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light. Backward look across the ages, and the beacon moments see That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut through oblivion's sea; Not an ear in court or market for the low foreboding cry Of those crises, God's stern winnowers, from whose feet earth's chaff must fly ; Never shows the choice momentous till the judgment hath passed by. 11 162 WERNER'S READINGS Careless seems the great avenger; history's pages but record One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word; Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever- on the throne, Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own. "We see dimly in the present what is small and what is great ; Slow of faith, how weak an arm may turn the iron helm of fate! But the soul is still oracular ; amid the market's din, List the ominous stern whisper from the delphic cave within, " They enslave their children's children who make compromise with sin." Then to side with truth is noble when we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just; Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside, Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified, And the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied. Count me o'er earth's chosen heroes — they were souls that stood alone, While the men they agonized for hurled the contumelious stone; Stood serene and down the future, saw the golden beam incline To the side of perfect justice, mastered by their faith divine, By one man's plain truth to manhood and to God's supreme design. By the light of burning heretics Christ's bleeding feet I track, Toiling up new Calvaries ever with the cross that turns not back, And these mounts of anguish number how each generation learned One new word of that grand credo which in prophet-hearts hath burned, Since the first man stood God-conquered with his face to heaven upturned. AND RECITATIONS. 163 For humanity sweeps onward ; where to-day the martyr stands, On the morrow crouches Judas with the silver in his hands; Far in front the cross stands ready and the crackling fagots hum, While the hooting mob of yesterday in silent awe return To glean up the scattered ashes into history's golden urn. ^ "lis as easy to be heroes as to sit the idle slaves Of a legendary virtue carved upon our fathers' graves. Worshippers of light ancestral make the present light a crime; AVas the Mayfloioer launched by cowards, steered by men behind their time? Turn those tracks toward past or future that make Plymouth Eock sublime? They have rights who dare maintain them; we are traitors to our sires, Smothering in their holy ashes freedom's new-lit altar fires. Shall we make their creed our jailer? Shall we, in our haste to slay, From the tombs of the old prophets steal the funeral lamps away To light the martyr-fagots round the prophets of to-day? New occasions teach new duties ; time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! We ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the future's portal with the past's blood-rusted key. THE RISING OF THE PEOPLE. ELBRIEGE JEFFERSON CUTLER. THE drum's wild roar wakes the land; the fife is calling shrill; Ten thousand starry banners blaze on town, on bay, on hill ; Our crowded streets are throbbing with the soldiers' measured tramp ; 164 WERNERS READINGS Among our bladed cornfields gleam the white tents of the camp. The thunders of the rising war hush labor's drowsy hum, And heavy to the ground the first dark drops of battle come. The souls of men flame up anew; the narrow heart expands, And woman brings her patient faith to nerve her eager hands. Thank God ! we are not buried yet, though long in trance we lay ; Thank God ! the fathers need not blush to own their sons to-day. Oh ! sad and slow the weeks went by ; each held his anxious breath. Like one who waits in helpless fear some sorrow great as death. Oh ! scarcely was there faith in God nor any trust in man, While fast along the Southern sky the blighting shadow ran. It veiled the stars, one after one; it hushed the patriot's song; And stole from men the sacred sense that parteth right and wrong. Then a red flash — the lightning across the darkness broke, And with a voice that shook the land, the guns of Sumter spoke: " Wake! sons of heroes, wake! the age of heroes dawns again; Truth takes in hand her ancient sword, and calls her loyal men. Lo! brightly o'er the day shines freedom's holy star, Peace cannot cure the sickly time. All hail, the healer, war! " That call was heard by Plymouth Rock; 'twas heard in Boston Bay; Then up the piney streams of Maine sped on its ringing way; New Hampshire's rocks, Vermont's green hills, it kindled into flame ; Rhode Island felt her mighty soul bursting her little frame; The Empire city started up, her golden fetters rent, And, meteor-like, across the North, the fiery message sent; Over the breezy prairie lands, by bluff and lake it ran, Till Kansas bent his arm, and laughed to find himself a man; Then on by cabin and by camp, by stony wastes and sands, It ran exultant down the sea where the Golden City stands. And wheresoe'er the summons came, there rose an angry din, As when upon a rocky coast, a stormy tide comes in. Straightway the fathers gathered voice, straightway the sons arose, With flushing cheeks, as when the East with day's red current glows. AND RECITATIONS. 165 Hurrah ! the long despair is past ; our fading hopes renew ; The fog is lifting from the land, and lo ! the ancient blue ! We learn the secret of the deeds the sires have handed down, To fire the youthful soldier's zeal, and teud his green renown. Who lives for country, through his arm feels all her forces flow; 'Tis easy to be brave for truth, as for the rose to blow. Oh, Law! fair form of Liberty! God's light is on thy brow, Oh, Liberty! thou soul of Law, God's very self art thou, One the clear river's sparkling flood that clothes the bank with green, And one the line of stubborn rock that holds the water in — Friends, whom we cannot think ap'art, seeming each other's foe, Twin flowers upon a single stalk with equal grace that grow. Oh, fair ideas! we write your names across our banner's fold; For you the sluggard's brain is fire, for you the coward bold. Oh ! daughter of the bleeding past ! Oh ! hope the prophets saw ! God give us law in liberty, and liberty in law ! Full many a heart is aching with mingled joy and pain For those who go so proudly forth, and may not come again; And many a heart is aching for those it leaves behind, As a thousand tender histories throng in upon the mind. The old men bless the young men, and praise their bearing high; The women in the doorways stand to wave them bravely by. One threw her arms about her boy and said, " Good-by, my son ; God help thee do the valiant deeds thy father would have done." One held up to a bearded man a little child to kiss, And said, " I shall not be alone, for thy dear love and this." And one, a rosebud in her hand, leaned at a soldier's side; " Thy country weds thee first," she said, " be I thy second bride." mothers! when around your hearths ye count your cherished ones, And miss from the enchanted ring the flower of all your sons ; 166 WERNER'S READINGS wives! when o'er the cradled child ye bend at evening's fall, And voices which the heart can hear across the distance call; maids! when in the sleepless nights ye ope the little case, And look till ye can look no more upon the proud young face; Not only pray the Lord of life, who measures mortal breath, To bring the absent back unscathed out of the fire of death — Oh, pray with that divine content which God's best favor draws, That whosoever lives or dies, He save His holy cause! So out of shop and farmhouse, from shore and inland glen, Thick as the bees in clover time, are swarming armed men ; Along the dusty roads in haste the eager columns come, With flash of sword and nmsket's gleam, the bugle and the drum. Ho, comrades ! mark the tender light, on the dear emblems spread ! Our fathers' blood has hallowed it; 'tis part of their renown, And palsied be the caitiff hand would pluck its glories down ! Hurrah! hurrah! it is our home where'er thy colors fly; We win with thee our victory, or in thy shadow die ! women! drive the rattling loom, and gather in the hay, For all the youth worth love and truth are marshalled in the fray. Southward the hosts are hurrying, with banners wide unfurled, From where the stately Hudson floats the wealth of half the world; From where, amid his clustered isles, Lake Huron's waters gleam; From where the Mississippi pours an unpolluted stream ; From where Kentucky's fields of corn bend in the Southern air; From broad Ohio's luscious vines; from Jersey's orchards fair; From where, between his fertile slopes, Nebraska's rivers run ; From Pennsylvania's iron hills; from woody Oregon; And Massachusetts led the van, as in the days of yore, And gave her reddest blood to cleanse the stones of Baltimore. mothers! sisters! daughters! spare the tears ye fain would shed; Who seem to die in such a cause, ye cannot call them dead. AND RECITATIONS. 167 They live upon the lips of men, in picture, bust, and song, And nature folds them in her heart, and keeps them safe from wrong. Oh ! length of days is not a boon the brave man prayeth for ; There are a thousand evils worse than death or any war — Oppression, with his iron strength, fed on the souls of men, And License, with the hungry brood that haunt his ghastly den. But like bright stars ye fill the eye, adoring hearts ye draw; Oh, sacred grace of liberty! oh, majesty of law! Hurrah! the drums are heating; the fife is calling shrill; Ten thousand starry banners flame on town, and bay, and hill; The thunders of the rising war drown labor's peaceful hum ; Thank God that we have lived to see the saffron morning come — The morning of the battle-call, to every soldier dear! joy! the cry is " Forward! " joy! the foe is near! For all the crafty men of peace have failed to purge the land, Hurrah ! the ranks of battle close ! God takes His cause in hand ! THE VISION OF LIBERTY. HENEY WARE, JR. THE evening heavens were calm and bright; No dimness rested on the glittering light, That sparkled from that wilderness of worlds on high ; Those distant suns burned on with quiet ray ; The placid planets held their modest way ; And silence reigned profound o'er earth and sea and sky. Oh! what an hour for lofty thought! My spirit burned within ; I caught 168 WERNER'S READINGS A holy inspiration from the hour. Around me man and nature slept; Alone my solemn watch I kept, Till morning dawned, and sleep resumed her power. A vision passed upon my soul. I still was gazing up to heaven, As in the early hours of even; I still beheld the planets roll, A.nd all those countless suns of light Flame from the broad blue arch, and guide the moonless night. When, lo! upon the plain, Just where it skirts the swelling main, A massive castle, far and high, In toAvering grandeur broke upon my eye. Proud in its strength and years, the ponderous pile Flung up its time-defying towers; Its lofty gates seemed scornfully to smile At vain assaults of human powers, And threats and arms deride. Its gorgeous carvings of heraldic pride, In giant masses, graced the walls above; And dungeons yawned below. Yet ivy there and moss their garlands wove, Grave, silent chroniclers of time's protracted flow. Bursting on my steadfast gaze See, within, a sudden blaze! So small at first the zephyr's slightest swell, That scarcely stirs the pine-tree top, Nor makes the withered leaf to drop, The feeble fluttering of that flame would quell. But soon it spread, Waving, rushing, fierce, and red, AND RECITATIONS. 169 From wall to wall, from tower to tower, Baging with resistless power; Till every fervent pillar glowed, And every stone seemed burning coal, Instinct with living heat that flowed Like streaming radiance from the kindled pole. Beautiful, fearful, grand, Silent as death, I saw the fabric stand. At length a crackling sound began ; From side to side, throughout the pile it ran; And louder yet and louder grew, Till now in rattling thunder-peals it flew. Huge shivered fragments from the pillars broke, Like fiery sparkles from the anvil's stroke. The shattered walls were rent and riven, And piecemeal driven, Like blazing comets, through the troubled sky. 'Tis done; what centuries have reared, In quick explosion disappeared, Nor even its ruins met my wondering eye. But in their place, Bright with more than human grace, Eobed in more than mortal seeming, Eadiant glory in her face, And eyes with heaven's own brightness beaming, Eose a fair majestic form, As the mild rainbow from the storm. I marked her smile, I knew her eye; And when, with gesture of command, She waved aloft a cap-crowned wand, •My slumbers fled 'mid shouts of " Liberty! " Eead ye the dream? and know ye not How truly it unlocked the world of fate? 170 WERNER'S READINGS Went not the flame from this illustrious spot, And spread it not, and burns in every state? And when their old and cumbrous walls, Filled with this spirit, glow intense, Vainly they rear their impotent defence: The fabric falls! That fervent energy must spread, Till despotism's towers be overthrown, And in their stead Liberty stands alone! Hasten the day, just heaven! Accomplish thy design, And let the blessings thou hast freely given, Freely on all men shiue, Till equal rights be equally enjoyed, And human power for human good cmplo} r ed; Till law, not man, the sovereign rule sustain, And peace and virtue undisputed reign. BULL RUN. [Sunday, July 21.] ALICE B. HAVEN". [The first battle of Bull Run took place July 1, 1861 ; the second, Aij gust 30, 1862. In both engagements the Union forces were disastrousl defeated. ] WE — walking so slowly adown the green lane, With Sabbath bells chiming, and birds singing psalms He — eager with haste pressing on o'er the slain, 'Mid the trampling of hoofs and the drum-beat to arms, In that cool, dewy morning. AND RECITATIONS. 171 7e — waiting with faces all reverent and still, 1 The organ's voice vibrant with praise unto God; lis face set like flint with the impress of will, ' To press back the foe, or die on the sod — My fair, brave young brother ! r e— kneeling to hear benedictions of love, i Our hearts all at peace with the message from heaven ! |e — stretched on the field, gasping, wounded, to prove If mercy were found when such courage had striven, In the midst of the slaughter. 1 God! can I live with the horrible truth? ! Stabbed through as he lay with their glittering steel; ould they look in that face, like a woman's for youth, And crush out its beauty with musket and heel, Like hounds or like demons? hat brow I have blessed in my dead mother's place, Each morning and evening since she went unto rest ; noothing down the fair cheek as my own baby's face, Those eyes with her look where my kisses were pressed, For I saw hers — so tender ! urses spring to my lips ! my God ! send the hail Of swift, ready vengeance for deeds such as this! orego all Thy mercy, if judgment must fail ! Forgive my wild heart if it prayeth amiss — His blood crieth upward ! Amiss! " and the strife of my clamorous grief Is hushed into stillness: what grief like to Thine? : my poor human heart, with its passions so brief, Is tortured with pangs, can we guess the divine, With depths past all searching? 172 WERNER'S READINGS I know eyes more tender looked upward to Thee, That visage, so marred by the torturing crown ; Those smooth, noble limbs, racked with anguish I see; The side where the blood and the water gushed down, From stroke fierce and brutal. Help lips white with anguish to take up His prayer; Help hearts that are bursting to stifle their cries; The shout of the populace, too, has been there, To drown pleas for justice, to clothe truth in lies, To enrage and to madden. They know not we loved them; they know not we prayed For their weal as our own; " we are brethren," we plead. Unceasing those prayers to our Father were made; When they flung down the palm for palmetto, we said, " Let us still hope to win them! " God so loved that He gave!" We are giving to these The lives that were dearer to us than our own; Let us add prayer for blood, trusting God to appease Our heart's craving pain, when He hears on His throne, "Oh, Father, forgive them!" BETHEL. A. J. H. DUGANSTE. WE mustered at midnight, in darkness we formed, And the whisper went round of a fort to be stormed ; But no drum-beat had called us, no trumpet we heard, And no voice of command, but our colonel's low word — " Column ! Forward ! " AND RECITATIONS. 173 And out, through the mist and the murk of the moon, From the beaches of Hampton our barges were borne; And we heard not a sound, save the sweep of the oar, Till the word of our colonel came up from the shore — " Column ! Forward ! " Through green-tasselled cornfields our columns were thrown, And like corn by the red scythe of fire we were mown ; While the cannon's fierce ploughings new-furrowed the plain, That our blood might be planted for liberty's grain — " Column ! Forward ! " Oh ! the fields of fair June have no lack of sweet flowers, But their rarest and best breathe no fragrance like ours; And the sunshine of June, sprinkling gold on the corn, Hath no harvest that ripeneth like Bethel's red morn — " Column ! Forward ! " When our heroes, like bridegrooms, with lips and with breath Drank the first kiss of danger, and clasped her in death ; And the heart of brave Winthrop grew mute with his lyre, When the plumes of his genius lay moulting in fire — " Column ! Forward ! " Where he fell shall be sunshine as bright as his name, And the grass where he slept shall be green as his fame; For the gold of the pen and the steel of the sword Write his deeds, in his blood, on the land he adored — " Column ! Forward ! " And the soul of our comrade shall sweeten the air, And the flowers and the grass-blades his memory upbear; While the breath of his genius, like music in leaves, With the corn-tassels whisper, and sings in the sheaves — • " Column ! Forward ! " 174 WERNERS READINGS THE CAVALRY SCOUT. EDMUND US SCOTUS. ' 6 O PAEE man nor steed, use utmost speed ; before the sun O goes down, Thou, sir, must ride," the colonel cried, "unto Helena town." " Colonel," the stern lieutenant said, " to hear is to obey! Comrades! the path is fringed with death; who rides with me to- day?" Instant a gallant sergeant spoke : " I ride with thee to-day ! " Along the ranks a wild shout broke: " We follow! lead the way I " Out sprang a little trumpeter, and clasped the courier's knees: "I'll sound the charge, I'll call the halt — me, too! let me go, please ! " " Nay, boy! I want not trumpet-note, nor arm nor sword so small; The ranger's ball shall sound the charge, the halt but death shall call." To horse! the steeds impatient neigh; to horse! the way is long; Brave hearts are light, keen sabres bright, and willing arms are strong. The clatter of hoofs, the clash of steel, the day is nearly done; There will be need of armed heel ere the far-off goal be won. Lo! the entrance to Cyril's Wood gapes like the mouth of hell; The dauntless courier mutters, " Good! the rebel dogs watch well! " | No rein is drawn at the line of flame; tally, a score and six. "My place to lead," is the sergeant's claim. "Ho! for the River Styx!" AND RECITATIONS. 175 Thou follow! " rings the quick reply; "for God and liberty! " nd the well-closed column dashes by — tally, a score less three. Comrades! " — the courier turned his head — " if I fall, pass me by; Vhom the gods love die young,' 'tis said; it is no shame to die! " he sunless swamp is near at hand; gleameth each hostile tree; yes to the front, the lessening band, reckless, ride rapidly. Help ho ! the sergeant ! " One hath seen whence the death bear- ing sped ; imeth the ranger's eyes between, pierceth the ranger's head. nder the giant cypress him the rough hands gently place; ive water to cool the fevered lips, to lave the burning face. ot here ! his thoughts are far away in the home he loved so well ; like a sleepy child he murmurs: " Hark! do you hear the vesper bell? " id in his bosom, bathed in blood, is a cherished lock of hair; e snatches it forth from the welling flood, and takes of his own so fair, nd puts them into his comrade's hand : " You know the happy spot, ive her who waits these tresses twain, and say I ne'er forgot. " way! away! think not to stay! no bootless vigil keep, ive little heed to a comrade's need; a soldier may not weep. way ! away ! the passing day warns to use utmost speed ; ark to the shouts of the rebel scouts ! Away ! away ! good steed ! >me hither and see the glory with me — are thine eyes so weak, my love? inlit mountains stand on either hand, and a purple sky above. 176 » WERNER'S READINGS " There's a path goes out at the golden west," trod by the parting day, That leads to the fabled home of the blest " over the hills away." The sun swells big in a last fond gaze, big with the light of love; Come hither and see, it will not daze, for the purple grows misty above. Drive home the spur ! a riderless horse into the night leads on ; Follow! faint not! his master's corpse is many a mile by-gone. On ! on ! deem not the danger passed till the wished-for goal be won, " Who goes? " "'Thank God the lines at last! " The hard race is done. " Boys! who is here? " a trooper cried ; " how many are alive? " And the stern courier's voice replied: "Brave comrades, we are five! " THE CRUISE OF THE "MONITOR." GEOEGE M. BAKER. OUT of a Northern city's bay, 'Neath lowering clouds, one bleak March day. Glided a craft — the like I ween, On ocean's crest was never seen Since Noah's float, that ancient boat, Could o'er a concpiered deluge gloat. No raking masts, with clouds of sail, Bent to the breeze, or braved the gale ; No towering chimney's wreaths of smoke Betrayed the mighty engine's stroke; But low and dark, like the crafty shark, Moved in the waters this novel bark. AND RECITATIONS. 177 The fishers stared as the flitting sprite Passed their huts in the misty light, Bearing a turret huge and black, And said, " The old sea-serpent's back, Carting away by light of day, Uncle Sam's fort from New York Bay." Forth from a Southern city's dock, Our frigates' strong blockade to mock, Crept a monster of rugged build, The work of crafty hands, well skilled — Old Merrimac, with an iron back Wooden ships would find hard to crack. Straight to where the Cumberland lay, The mail-clad monster made its way ; Its deadly prow struck deep and sure, And the hero's fighting days were o'er. Ah! many the braves who found their graves, With that good ship, beneath the waves! But with their fate is glory wrought, Those hearts of oak like heroes fought With desperate hope to win the day, And crush the foe that 'fore them lay. Our flag up run, the last-fired gun, Tokens how bravely duty was done. Flushed with success, the victor flew, Furious, the startled squadron through; Sinking, burning, driving ashore, Until that Sabbath day was o'er, Resting at night to renew the fight With vengeful ire by morning's light. 12 178 WERNER'S READINGS Out of its den it burst anew, When the gray mist the sun broke through, Steaming to where, in clinging sands, The frigate Minnesota stands, A sturdy foe to overthrow, But in woful plight to receive a blow. But see ! Beneath her bow appears A champion no danger fears; A pigmy craft, that seems to be To this new lord who rules the sea, Like David of old to Goliath bold — Youth and giant, by Scripture told. Round the roaring despot playing, With willing spirit, helm obeying, Spurning the iron against it hurled, While belching turret rapid whirled, And swift shot's seethe, with smoky wreath, Told that the shark was showing his teeth — The Monitor fought. In grim amaze The Merrimacs upon it gaze, Cowering 'neath the iron hail, Crashing into their coat of mail; They swore " this craft, the devil's shaft, Looked like a cheese-box on a raft." Hurrah! little giant of '62! Bold Worden with his gallant crew Forces the fight; the day is won; Back to his den the monster's gone With crippled claws and broken jaws, Defeated in a reckless cause. AND RECITATIONS. 179 Hurrah for the master mind that wrought, With iron hand, this iron thought! Strength and safety with speed combined, Ericsson's gift to all mankind; To curb abuse, and chains to lose, Hurrah for the Monitor 's famous cruise! KING COTTON. EOBEET MACKENZIE. WHEN Europeans first visited the southern parts of North America, they found in abundant growth there a plant destined to such eminence in the future history of the world as no other member of the vegetable family ever attained. It was an unimportant-looking plant two or three feet in height, studded with pods somewhat larger than a walnut. In the appropriate season these pods opened, revealing a wealth of soft, white fibre, imbedded in which lay the seeds of the plant. This was cotton. It was not unknown to the Old World. The Eomans used cotton fabrics before the Christian era. India did so from a still more remote period, but the extent to which its use had been carried was trivial. Men clothed themselves as best they might, in linen or woollen cloth, or simply in the skins of the beasts which they slew. The time was now at hand when an ampler provision for their wants was to be disclosed to them. In 1768 Richard Arkwright invented a machine for spinniug cotton, vastly superior to anything hitherto in use. Next year a greater than he, James Watt, announced a greater invention — his steam-engine. England was now ready to begin her great work of weaving cotton for the world; but where was the cotton to be found? Three or four years before Watt patented his engine and Ark- wright his spinning-frame, there was born in a New England farm- house a boy whose work was needed to complete theirs. His name 180 WERNER'S READINGS was Eli Whitney. Eli was a born mechanic. It was a necessity of his nature to invent and construct. As a mere boy he made nails, pins, and walking-canes by novel processes, and thus earned money to support himself at college. In 1792 he went to Georgia to visit Mrs. Greene, the widow of that General Greene who so troubled Lord Cornwallis in the closing years of the war. In that primitive society, where few of the comforts of civilized life were yet enjoyed, no visits were so like those of the angels as the visits of a skilful mechanic. Eli constructed marvellous amusements for Mrs. Greene's children. He overcame all house- hold difficulties by some ingenious contrivance. Mrs. Greene learned to wonder at him, and to believe nothing was impossible for him. One day Mrs. Greene entertained a party of her neighbors. The conversation turned upon the sorrows of the planter. That unhappy tenacity with which the seeds of the cotton adhered to the fibre was elaborately bemoaned. With an urgent demand from England for cotton, with boundless lands which grew nothing so well as cotton, it was hard to be so utterly baffled. Mrs. Greene had unlimited faith in her friend Eli. She begged him to invent a machine which should separate the seeds of cotton from the fibre. Eli was of Northern upbringing and had never even seen cotton in seed. He walked into Savannah, and there, with some trouble, obtained a quantity of uncleaned cotton. He shut himself in his room, and brooded over the difficulty which he had undertaken to conquer. All that winter Eli labored, devising, hammering, building up, rejecting, beginning afresh. He had no help. He could not even buy tools, but had to make them with his own hands. At length his machine was completed, rude-looking, but visibly effective. Mrs. Greene invited the leading men of the state to her house. She conducted them in triumph to the building in which the machine stood. The owners of unprofitable cotton-lands looked on, with a wild flash of hope lighting up their desponding hearts. Possibilities of untold wealth to each of them lay in that clumsy AND RECITATIONS. 181 structure. The machine was put in motion. It was evident to all that it could perform the work of hundreds of men. Eli had gained a great victory for mankind. In that rude log-hut of Georgia cotton was crowned king, and a new era was opened for America and the world. Ten years after Whitney's cotton-gin was invented, a huge ad- dition was made to the cotton-growing districts of America. In 1803 Europe enjoyed a short respite from the mad Napoleon wars. France had recently acquired from Spain vast regions bordering on the Gulf of Mexico, and stretching far up the valley of the Mississippi and westward to the Pacific. It was certain that peace in Europe would not last long. It was equally certain that when war was resumed France could not hold these possessions against the fleets of England. America wished to acquire, and was willing to pay for them. It was better to sell to the Americans, and equip soldiers with the price, than wait till England was ready to conquer. Napoleon sold, and America added Louisiana to her vast possessions. Mark well these two events — the invention of a machine for cheaply separating the seeds of cotton from the fibre, and the pur- chase of Louisiana from the French. Out of those two events Sows the American history of the next half century. Not any ather event since the War of Independence, not all other events put together, have done so much to shape and determine the career of the American people. THE KEYNOTE OF ABOLITION. WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON. THERE is much declamation about the sacredness of the com- pact which was formed between the free and the slave states m the adoption of the Constitution. A sacred compact, forsooth! We pronounce it the most bloody and heaven-daring arrangement 5ver made by men for the continuance and protection of a system 182 WERNER'S READINGS of the most atrocious villany ever exhibited on earth. Yes, w recognize the compact, but with feelings of shame and indignation and it will be held in everlasting infamy by the friends of justic and humanity throughout the world. It was a compact formed a the sacrifice of the bodies and souls of millions of our race, for th sake of achieving a political object — -an unblushing and monstrou coalition to do evil that good might come. Such a compact was, in the nature of things and according t the law of God, null and void from the beginning. No body o men ever had the right to guarantee the holding of human being in bondage. Who or what were the framers of our government that they should dare confirm and authorize such high-handei villany, such a glaring violation of all the precepts and injunc tions of the Gospel, such a savage war upon a sixth part of ou whole population? They were men like ourselves — as fallible, a sinful, as weak as ourselves. By the infamous bargain which the made between themselves, they virtually dethroned the Most Hig God, and trampled beneath their feet their own solemn an< heaven-attested declaration that all men are created equal, an endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, amon which are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. They ha no lawful power to bind themselves or their posterity for on hour — for one moment — by such an unholy alliance. It was no valid then ; it is not valid now. Still they persisted in maintain ing it, and still do their successors — the people of Massachusetts of New England, and of the twelve free states, persist in main taining it. A sacred compact! a sacred compact! What, then is wicked and ignominious? It is said that if you agitate this question you will divide th Union. Believe it not; but should disunion follow, the fault wi] not be yours. You must perform your duty faithfully, fearlessl and promptly, and leave the consequences to God; that dut clearly is to cease from giving countenance and protection t t Southern kidnappers. Let them separate, if they can muste courage enough — and the liberation of their slaves is certain. B AND RECITATIONS. 183 assured that slavery will very speedily destroy this Union if it be let alone. But even if the Union can be preserved by treading upon the necks, spilling the blood, and destroying the souls of mill- i ions of your race, we say it is not worth a price like this, and that it is in the highest degree criminal for you to continue the present compact. Let the pillars thereof fall, let the superstructure crumble into dust, if it must be upheld by robbery and oppression ! A CHANGE OF BASE. ALBION W. TOUKGEE. THE time had come when he who should untie the Gordian knot of slavery was to appear. Thousands of the best and ■bravest had grappled with the problem in vain. Many a gallant \ knight had graven "liberty" upon his helm, only to find himself esooner or later doing battle for slavery. The high and the low had r been baffled. What seemed at the beginning an insoluble enigma had grown daily more intricate and difficult. Slavery, which had grown from a little speck to cover half the political horizon, had, '•from the first, falsified all theories. Instead of dying, it had flourished; instead of losing strength, it had gained power; instead ■of yielding to the sentiment of the world, it openly defied it. It ruled not only the states where it existed, but those which fattened on its results. Some there were who demanded the forcible removal of the '^obstacle. One man who had not ceased to declare for many years that only blood could wash away the evil, was preparing to make good his prophecy. He looked forward to a day when the slave Should win his way to freedom by force. There were many who agreed with him that there was no other method. Some listened (to his plans and vaguely indorsed his designs. To many they Were partially disclosed, but none knew their details. He had one 'thought only — slavery must be destroyed. He cared little for the Constitution, or the nation builded thereon. Laws, customs, and 184 WERNER'S READINGS institutions were nothing to him ; only the men who were subject to them were sacred in his eyes. For him the universe held but two facts: God, who created all things, and man, made in His image. That slavery was an evil was all he needed to know. That it was doomed to destruction was, by the mere fact of its un- holiness, rendered certain beyond question to his mind. How it should be destroyed he did not care, he did not know. That men should die in compassing its destruction he did not doubt; whether one or ten millions, it mattered not. He counted liberty as part of the revealed Word, which he devoutly believed ; and to him it was of infinitely less moment that men should die than that its lightest syllable should fail. So, too, while he lived for humanity, he thought it far better that a nation or a race even should perish from the face of the earth than that they should live to suffer wrong. On the plains of Kansas, in the swamps of the South, among the snows of the Adirondacks, he thought of but one j thing — how he might redeem the slave from the wrong of servi- tude. Poverty and ignorance and hopelessness rocked his cradle. Laughter and tears were strangely mingled in his nature. Little by little he came to know himself. More than thirty years he served before he knew that he had a mission to perform. He was always a dreamer. He had few books and no teachers. Man and nature were the volumes which he read most easily and studied most as- siduously. It has become the fashion in these later days to look upon Lincoln as the accident of an accident, rather than as the man of the age — the greatest of all who have borne the name American. It was not luck but intellect that brought him from obscurity to the forefront of the greatest movement in history. He alone of all the men of that time had the sagacity to discover the key of the position, to unite all the discordant elements in the attack upon it, and to hold them up in the conflict till the victory was won. Those who saw the apparent ease with which he achieved these results only half realized his greatness. Pure, simple, unassuming, kindly, touched with sadness and relieved with mirth, but never stained AND RECITATIONS. 185 pith falsehood or treachery or any hint of shameful act ; his heart ras tender as his life was grand — he stands in history a little hild in his humility, a king in power. Offspring of the sadly- mitten South; a nursling of the favored North; giant of the great Best — his life was the richest fruitage of the liberty he loved! TRUE STORY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. > < T 'D like to see the President," a timid woman said. 1 A poor and tidy gown she wore, and on her whitening head . bonnet, faded as her hair, ut comely still with decent care. round, on costly couches, sat statesmen of high degree, nd, conscious of their greatness, she stood back most patiently, ill some coarse menial, with a smile, Thispered that she must wait awhile ; hen muttered "green," with many a wink, till every glance was turned n the poor woman, gray and old, while hot her thin cheeks burned r ith wounded feelings, griefs and fears, nd her dim eyes were filled with tears. nd still the hours rolled onward — still the mighty came and went; ut all neglected stood the dame, nor saw the President; hile those whom fortune favors told heir pompous tales of fame and gold. nd so the sun came fainter down upon the brilliant floor; le aged woman started at the opening of a door, id one who caught her haggard eye i.l sudden, stopped through sympathy. Oh, sir," she said, " these many hours I've waited patiently; srhaps the President cannot be seen by such as I ; 186 WERNERS READINGS I'm poor and old and careworn, too, And he has burdens not a few." The stranger turned — a sudden light seemed kindled in his eye; He spoke with kindly tone and mien, with gentle gravity: " They should have sent you in to me Before they did the rest," said he. The old dame flushed with quick surprise, — was this the nation's chief? This grave, tall man, who, pitying, said, " Come — tell me all your grief, The poor and needy never went Unaided from the President." She told her simple tale; he heard with royal gentleness; Then, as her wrongs his interest woke, he promised her redress, And, gazing on the silvered head, He smiled to see her comforted. " Thank God! " and freely fell her tears; " our land is blest," she said, " When one who honors poverty stands nobly at its head. If an old woman's benison be Of any weight or worth to thee, " I give it from a grateful heart, and heaven will surely hear, God bless thee, Abraham Lincoln — bless all that thou holdest dear, And make thee glorious in the land Now smitten by the oppressor's hand ; "And make thee strong to dare to do, even though the proud condemn, And keep thee honest, brave and true, till thou hast conquered them; And ere thou diest thou shalt see, Through God's good grace, a nation free! " AND RECITATIONS. 187 PICCIOLA. IT was a sergeant, old and gray Well singed and bronzed from siege and pillage, Went tramping in an army's wake, Along the turnpike of the village. For days and nights the winding host Had through the little place been marching, And ever loud the rustics cheered, Till every throat was hoarse and parching. The squire and farmer, maid and dame, All took the sight's electric stirring, And hats were waved and staves were sung, And kerchiefs white were countless whirring. They only saw a gallant show Of heroes stalwart under banners, And in the fierce heroic glow, 'Twas theirs to yield but wild hosannas. The sergeant heard the shrill hurrahs, Where he behind in step was keeping; But glancing down beside the road He saw a little maid sit weeping. "And how is this? " he gruffly said, A moment pausing to regard her; "Why weepest thou, my little chit?" And then she only cried the harder. "And how is this, my little chit," The sturdy trooper straight repeated, " When all the village cheers us on, That you, in tears, apart are seated? 188 WERNER'S READINGS " We march two hundred thousand strong, And that's a sight, my bah} 7 beaut}?, To quicken silence into song, And glorify the soldier's duty." "It's very, very grand, I know," The little maid gave soft replying; " And father, mother, brother, too, All say ' Hurrah f while I am crying; "But think, Mr. Soldier, think How many little sisters' brothers Are going all away to fight ; And may be killed, as well as others! " "Why, bless tbee, child," the sergeant said, His brawny hand her curls caressing, " 'Tis left for little ones like you To find that war's not all a blessing." And " Bless thee ! " once again he cried, Then cleared his throat and looked indignant, And marched away with wrinkled brow To stop the struggling tear benignant. And still the ringing shouts went up From doorway, thatch, and fields of tillage; The pall behind the standard seen By one alone, of all the village. The oak and cedar bend and writhe When roars the wind through gap and braken; But 'tis the tenderest reed of all That trembles first when earth is shaken. AND RECITATIONS. 189 ON BOARD THE CUMBERLAND, MARCH 7, 1862. GEORGE H. BOEER. [Copyrighted by the J. B. Lippincott Co. ] i ( ^> TAND to your guns, men!" Morris cried; small need to O pass the word ; ;Our men at quarters ranged themselves before the drum was heard. And then began the sailors' jests: " What thing is that, I say? A 'long-shore meeting-house adrift is standing down the bay! " A frown came over Morris' face; the strange, dark craft he knew: " That is the iron Merrimac, manned by a rebel crew. •So shoot your guns and point them straight ; before this day goes by, We'll try of what her -metal's made." A cheer was our reply. '" Kemember, boys, this flag of ours has seldom left its place ; And where it falls, the deck it strikes is covered with disgrace. II ask but this; or sink or swim, or live or nobly die, l ^My last sight upon earth may be to see that ensign fly ! " Meanwhile, the shapeless iron mass came moving o'er the wave, As gloomy as a passing hearse, as silent as the grave. IHer ports were closed ; from stem to stern no sign of life appeared ; IWe wondered, questioned, strained our eyes, joked — everything but feared. i : v She reached our range. Our broadside rang; our heavy pivots roared ; And shot and shell, a fire of hell, against her side we poured. 1 God's mercy! from her sloping roof the iron tempest glanced ; A.s hail bounds from a cottage-thatch, and round her leaped and danced! Or when against her dusky hull we struck a fair, full blow, The mighty, solid iron globes were crumbled up like snow. 190 WERNER'S READINGS On, on, with fast increasing speed, the silent monster came, Though all our starboard battery was one long line of flame. She heeded not ; no guns she fired ; straight on our bows she bore ; Through riving plank and crashing frame her furious way she! tore. Alas! our beautiful keen bow, that in the fiercest blast So gently folded back the seas, they hardly felt we passed. Alas! alas! my Cumberland, that ne'er knew grief before, To be so gored, to feel so deep the tusk of that sea-boar! Once more she backward drew apace ; once more our side she rent, Then, in the wantonness of hate, her broadside through us sent. The dead and dying round us lay, but our foeman lay abeam ; Her open port-holes maddened us, we fired with shot and scream. We felt our vessel settling fast ; we knew our time was brief ; "Ho! man the pumps! " But they who worked, and fought not, wept with grief. " Oh ! keep us but an hour afloat ! oh ! give us only time To mete unto yon rebel crew the measure of their crime! " From captain down to powder-boy, no hand was idle then; Two soldiers, but by chance aboard, fought on like sailor men. And when a gun's crew lost a hand, some bold marine stepped out, And jerked his braided jacket off, and hauled the gun about. Our forward magazine was drowned, and up from the sick-bay Crawled out the wounded, red with blood, and round us gasping lay- Yes, cheering, calling us by name, struggling with failing breath To keep their shipmates at the post where glory strove with death. With decks afloat and powder gone, the last broadside we gave From the guns' heated iron lips burst out beneath the wave. AND RECITATIONS. 191 So sponges, rammers, and handspikes — as men-of-war's men should — i We placed within their proper racks, and at our quarters stood. "Up to the spar-deck! save yourselves!" cried Selfridge. "Up, my men ! God grant that some of us may live to fight yon ship again ! " We turned; we did not like to go; yet staying seemed but vain, Knee-deep in water; so we left; some swore, some groaned with pain. We reached the deck. There Eandall stood : " Another turn, men — so! " Calmly he aimed his pivot gun: "Now, Tenny, let her go!" It did our sore hearts good to hear the song our pivot sang, 'As rushing on from wave to wave the whirring bomb-shell sprang. Brave Eandall leaped upon the gun, and waved his cap in sport; 1 Well done ! well aimed ! I saw that shell go through an open port ! " It was our last, our deadliest shot; the deck was overflown iThe poor ship staggered, lurched to port, and gave a living groan. Down, down, as headlong through the waves our gallant vessel r ashed; A thousand gurgling watery sounds around my senses gushed. jThen I remember little more ; one look to heaven I gave, Where, like an angel's wing, I saw our spotless ensign wave. I tried to cheer. I cannot say whether I swam or sank ; ;A blue mist closed around my eyes, and everything was blank. When I awoke, a soldier lad, all dripping from the sea, With two great tears upon his cheeks, was bending over me. I tried to speak. He understood the wish I could not speak. He turned me. There, thank God ! the flag still fluttered at the peak! 192 WERNER'S READINGS And there, while thread shall hang to thread, oh, let that ensign fly! The noblest constellation set against the northern sky, — A sign that we who live may claim the peerage of the brave; A monument that needs no scroll, for those beneath the wave. THE WOOD OF CHANCELLORSVILLE. DELIA E. GERMAN. THE ripe, red berries of the wintergreen Lure me to pause awhile In this deep, tangled wood. I stop and lean Down where these wild flowers smile, And rest me in this shade; for many a mile Through lane and dusty street, I've walked with weary, weary feet ; And now I tarry 'mid this woodland scene, Long ferns and mosses sweet. Here all around me blows the pale primrose. I wonder if the gentle blossom knows The feeling at my heart — the solemn grief So whelming and so deep That it disdains relief, And will not let me weep. I wonder that the woodbine thrives and grows, And is indifferent to the nation's woes; For while these mornings shine, these blossoms bloom. Impious rebellion wraps the land in gloom. Nature, thou art unkind, Unsympathizing, blind! Yon lichen, clinging to th' o'erhanging rock, Is happy, and each blade of grass O'er which unconsciously I pass, AND RECITATIONS. 193 Smiles in my face and seems to mock Me with its joy. Alas! I cannot find One charm in bounteous nature, while the wind That blows upon my cheek bears on each gust The groans of my poor country, bleeding in the dust. The air is musical with notes That gush from winged warblers' throats, And in the leafy trees I hear the drowsy hum of bees. Prone from the blinding sky Dance rainbow-tinted sunbeams, thick with motes, Daisies are shining, and the butterfly Wavers from flower to flower ; yet in this wood The ruthless foeman stood, And every turf is drenched with human blood. heartless flowers! trees ! clad in your robes of glistening sheen, Put off this canopy of gorgeous green! These are the hours For mourning, not for gladness. While this smart Of treason dire gashes the nation's heart, Let birds refuse to sing, And flowers to bloom upon the lap of spring! Let nature's face itself with tears o'erflow, In deepest anguish for a people's woe. While rank rebellion stands With blood of martyrs on his impious hands; While slavery and chains, And cruelty and direst hate, Uplift their heads, within th' afflicted state, And freeze the blood in every patriot's veins, — Let these old woodlands fair Grow black with gloom, and from its thunder-lair 13 194 WERNER'S READINGS Let lightning leap, and scorch the accursed air, Until the suffering earth, Of treason sick, shall spew the monster forth, And each regenerate sod Be consecrate anew to freedom and to God! HIGH TIDE AT GETTYSBURG. WILL H. THOMPSON. A CLOUD possessed the hollow field, The gathering battle's smoky shield; Athwart the gloom the lightning flashed, And through the cloud some horsemen dashed And from the heights the thunder pealed. Then at the brief command of Lee Moved out that matchless infantry, With Pickett leading grandly down, To rush against the roaring crown Of those dread heights of destiny. Far heard above the angry guns A cry across the tumult runs — The voice that rang through Shiloh's woods And Chickamauga's solitudes — The fierce South cheering on her sons! Ah, how the withering tempest blew Against the front of Pettigrew! A Kamsin wind that scorched and singed Like that infernal flame that fringed The British squares at Waterloo! " Once more in glory's van with me! " Virginia cried to Tennessee; AND RECITATIONS. 195 " We two together, come what may, Shall stand upon those works to-day ! " (The reddest day in history.) But who shall break the guards that wait Before the awful face of fate? The tattered standards of the South Were shrivelled at the cannon's mouth, And all her hopes were desolate- In vain the Tennessean set His breast against the bayonet ! In vain Virginia charged and raged, A tigress in her wrath uncaged, Till all the hill was red and wet ! Above the bayonets, mixed and crossed, Men saw a gray gigantic ghost Receding through the battle-cloud, And heard across the tempest loud The death-cry of a nation lost! The brave went down ! Without disgrace They leaped to ruin's red embrace, They only heard fame's thunders wake, And saw the dazzling sun-burst break In smiles on glory's bloody face. They fell, who lifted up a hand And bade the sun in heaven to stand! They smote and fell, who set the bars Against the progress of the stars, And stayed the march of mother-land. They stood, who saw the future come On through the fight's delirium! 196 WERNER'S READINGS They smote and stood, who held the hope Of nations on that slippery slope Amid the cheers of Christendom! God lives ! He forged the iron will That clutched and held that trembling hill- God lives and reigns! He built and lent The heights for freedom's battlement Where floats her flag in triumph still ! Fold up the banners! Smelt the guns! Love rules. Her gentler purpose runs. A mighty mother turns in tears The pages of her battle years, Lamenting all her fallen sons! THE REASON WHY. J. P. PEICKETT. [The assault on Port Hudson was pending. It was to test the fitness of the colored race for freedom. The white colonel of the colored regi- ment called the colored standard-bearer to him and implored him not to dishonor the flag and bring reproach upon his race by being recreant to duty. This lowly representative of a despised people replied, "'I'll bring these colors back with honor or report to God the reason why. "] THERE, like ebon statues in the starlight, stood the Black Bri- gade, As adown the ranks the colonel strode, and, walking, silent prayed ; Prayed that God might fill with patriot zeal each darkened soul, and light In each lowly breast a bright pathway to freedom's new birthright; That these new-born sons of freedom, in whose swelling hearts and breasts Burned the memories of centuries of bondage and of wrong, AND RECITATIONS. 107 In the morrow's dreadful slaughter, might, as heroes bear the -tests — ■ In their race's vindication might be brave and true and strong. Over yonder in the moonlight floated out the Stars and Bars; Here the Black Brigade in silence stood beneath the Stripes and Stars. Over there were trained artill'rymen asleep by silent guns; Here were loyal hearts in swelling breasts of freedom's new-born sons, Eaised from chattelhood to manhood by the stroke of patriot pen, Wond'ringly, and sometimes doubting, loyal hearts looked on to see If these slaves and serfs and chattels, lifted to the plane of men, In the shock of strife and battle won their right to liberty. 'Twas the morning of the battle, and the colonel's heart was sore; Knowing well that with the rise of sun the cannon's awful roar Would reverberate from hill to plain, and death in blood arrayed, Striking grim in smoke of conflict would assail his Black Brigade. Would they prove by deeds of valor in the carnage of war's stage, That their race, despite its bondage, was entitled to be free? Would they write in bloody characters on hist'ry's living page? Write a race's right to freedom — write a race's destiny? Grimly stood these erstwhile chattels — freemen now, of dusky hue — Bay 'nets gleaming in the starlight; what their thoughts — ah, no one knew ! Would they stand the test of freemen? Would they craven prove and quail? Would they stains of slavery wipe out in the battle's leaden hail? Had the iron-rust of bondage entered deeply in the soul? Had the cruelty of centuries the springs of manhood dried? Would they, in the blood of conflict and the battle's awful roll, Prove, despite the years of bondage, patriots, heroes, true and tried? 198 WERNER'S HEADINGS Said he to the color-bearer, and his voice was earnest, low: "Ere the coming day is ended patriot blood will freely flow; In the wild assault on frowning guns, think only of the years Of your race's cruel bondage, of its groans and cries and tears, "lis the starry flag of freedom that you bear aloft to-day; Bear it bravely in the conflict, and your race is ever free; Do not falter; bear it proudly in the thickest of the fray; Let this day in blood inaugurate your race's jubilee." Then up spoke the color-bearer, and his face in starlight's gleam Glowed with patriotic fire and ardor, as the past — a horrid dream — Drifted by with all its cruelty, its bondage, and its wrong, And his voice showed in its firm tones that his heart was true and strong : " Though my race has been in serfdom, yet we're freemen here to- night. And the Stars and Stripes our beacon light that gleams athwart the sky. Yes, I'll bring it back in honor, bear it bravely in the right, Or beyond the mystic river tell to God the reason why." 'Twas a horrid day of slaughter, and the crash of shot and shell Told that men were bravely battling for the cause they loved so well. A shout, a cheer, a wild assault — and then the Stripes and Stars Floated proudly from the ramparts where had waved the Stars and Bars. Bravely fought the dusky Black Brigade; in blood had rent the chains ; — Chains of slavery from a fettered race; and where, in blood, they'd trod, Lay, in death, the color-bearer; his life's blood the banner stains. Ah, beyond the silent river, he's reporting now fa ^od! AND RECITATIONS. 199 FOR FREEDOM. EDNA DEAN PROCTOR. [Response of the Colored Soldiers to the Call of the President, Jan., 1864.] THANK God ! 'Tis the war cry! They call us! We come! Clear summons the bugle, bold beckons the drum ! Our " Eeady" rings clearer; our hearts bolder beat As under the bright flag rejoicing we meet; For still we have trusted, through darkest delay, That the flash of these guns would be dawn of our day. 'Tis dawning! 'tis morning! the hills are aglow ! God's angels roll backward the clouds of our woe! One grasp of the rifle, one glimpse of the fray, And chattel and bondman have vanished for aye! Stern men they will find us who venture to feel The shock of our cannon, the thrust of our steel. The bright flag above us exultant we hail ; Beneath it what rapture the ramparts to scale! Or, true to our leader, o'er mountain, through hollow, Its stars never-setting, with fleet foot to follow, Till, shrill for the battle, the bugle-notes blow, And proudly we plant it in face of the foe! And then, when the conflict is done, in the gleam Of the camp-fire at midnight, how gayly we'll dream: The slave is the citizen — coveted name That lifts him from loathing, that shields him from shame! His cottage unravished; and, gladsome as he, His wife by the hearthstone, his babe on her knee. The cotton grows fair by the sea, as of old ; The cane yields its sugar, the orange its gold ; 200 WERNER'S READINGS Light rustle the corn-leaves ; the rice-fields are green ; And, free as the white man, he smiles on the scene; The drum beats — we start from our slumbers and pray That the dream of the night find an answering day. To God be the glory! They call us! We come! How welcome the watchword, the hurry, the hum ! Our hearts are on fire as our good swords we bare; "For freedom! for freedom!" soft echoes the air. The bugles ring cheerly; the banners float high; comrades, strike boldly! Our triumph is nigh! THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. GEORGE H. BOKER. [Copyrighted by the J. B. Lippincott Co.] 6 ' /""^ IVE me but two brigades," said Hooker, frowning at V_J fortified Lookout, " And I'll engage to sweep yon mountain clear of that mocking rebel rout! " At early morning came an order that set the general's face aglow: "Now," said he to his staff, "draw out my soldiers. Grant says that I may go! " Hither and thither dashed each eager colonel to join his regiment, While a low rumor of the daring purpose ran on from tent to tent; For the long-roll was sounding in the valley, and the keen trum- pets' bray, And the wild laughter of the swarthy veterans, who cried, " We fight to-day! " The solid tramp of infantry, the rumble of the great jolting gun, The sharp, clear order, and the fierce steeds neighing, " Why's not the fight begun? " AND RECITATIONS. 201 All these plain harbingers of sudden conflict broke on the startled ear; And, last, arose a sound that made your blood leap — the ringing battle-cheer. | The lower works were carried at one onset. Like a vast roaring sea Of steel and fire, our soldiers from the trenches swept out the enemy ; And we could see the gray-coats swarming up from the mountain's leafy base, To join their comrades in the higher fastness — for life or death the race! IThen our long line went winding round the mountain in a huge serpent track, 'And the slant sun upon it flashed and glimmered as on a dragon's back. Higher and higher the column's head pushed onward ere the rear moved a man ; And soon the skirmish-lines their straggling volleys and single shots began. Then the bald head of Lookout flamed and bellowed, and all its batteries woke, And down the mountain poured the bomb-shells, puffing into our eyes their smoke; And balls and grape-shot rained upon our column, that bore the angry shower As if it were no more than that soft dropping which scarcely stirs the flower. glorious courage that inspires the hero, and runs through all his men ! The heart that failed beside the Kappahannock, it was itself again ! 202 WERNER'S READINGS The star that circumstance and jealous faction shrouded in envious night, Here shone with all the splendor of its nature, and with a freer flight! Hark ! hark ! there go the well-known crashing volleys, the long- continued roar, That swells and falls, but never ceases wholly until the fight is o'er. Up toward the crystal gates of heaven ascending, the mortal tem- pests beat, As if they sought to try their cause together before God's very feet! We saw our troops had gained a footing almost beneath the top- most ledge, And back and forth the rival lines went surging upon the dizzy edge. Sometimes we saw our men fall backward slowly, and groaned in our despair; Or cheered when now and then a stricken rebel plunged out in open air, Down, down, a thousand empty fathoms dropping, his God alone knows where ! At eve thick haze upon the mountain gathered, with rising smoke stained black, And not a glimpse of the contending armies shone through the swirling rack. Night fell o'er all; but still they flashed their lightnings and rolled their thunders loud, Though no man knew upon what side was going that battle in the cloud. Night ! what a night of anxious thought and wonder ! but still no tidings came From the bare summit of the trembling mountain, still wrapped. in mist and flame. AND RECITATIONS. 203 But toward the sleepless dawn, stillness, more dreadful than the fierce sound of war, Settled o'er nature, as if she stood breathless before the morning star. As the sun rose, dense clouds of smoky vapor boiled from the valley's deeps, Dragging their torn and ragged edges slowly up through the tree- clad steeps, And rose and rose, till Lookout, like a vision, above us grandly stood, And over his black crags and storm-blanched headlands burst the warm golden flood. ' Thousands of eyes were fixed upon the mountain, and thousands held their breath, And the vast army, in the valley watching, seemed touched with sudden death. High o'er us soared great Lookout, robed in purple, a glory on his face, A human meaning in his hard, calm features beneath that heav- enly grace. 'Out on a crag walked something. What! an eagle that treads yon giddy height? ! Surely, no man! But still he clambered forward into the full, rich light; ' Then up he started with a sudden motion, and from the blazing crag I Flung to the morning breeze and sunny radiance the dear old starry flag! .Ah! then what followed? Scarred and war-worn soldiers, like girls, flushed through their tan, And down the thousand wrinkles of the battles a thousand tear- drops ran; 204 WERNER'S READINGS Men seized each other in returned embraces, and sobbed for very love; A spirit which made all that moment brothers seemed falling from above. And, as we gazed, around the mountain's summit our glittering files appeared; Into the rebel works we saw them marching; and we — we cheered, we cheered! And they above waved all their flags before us, and joined our frantic shout, Standing, like demigods, in light and triumph, upon their own Lookout ! THE FIGHT OF LOOKOUT. RICHARD L. CARY, JR. HEKE, sit ye down 'longside of me: I'm getting old and gray; But something in the paper, boy, has riled my blood to-day, To steal a purse is mean enough, the most of men agree ; But stealing reputation seems a meaner thing to me. A letter in the Herald says some generals allow That there wa'n't no fight where Lookout rears aloft its shaggy brow; But this coat-sleeve swinging empty here beside me, boy, to-day Tells a mighty different story in a mighty different way. When sunbeams flashed o'er Mission Ridge that bright November morn, The misty cap on Lookout's crest gave tokens of the storm; For grim King Death had draped the mount in grayish, smoky shrouds ; Its craggy peaks were lost to sight above the fleecy clouds. AND RECITATIONS. 205 Just at the mountain's rocky base we formed in serried lines, While lightning, with its jagged edge, played on us from the pines; The mission ours to storm the pits 'neath Lookout's crest that lay — ■ We stormed the very gates of hell with Fighting Joe that day. The mountain seemed to vomit flames ; the boom of heavy guns Played bass to Dixie's music, while a treble played the drums; The eagles, waking from their sleep, looked down upon the stars Slow climbing up the mountain's side with morning's broken bars. We kept our eyes upon the flag that upward led the way, Until we lost it in the smoke on Lookout's side that day; And then, like demons loosed from hell, we clambered up the crag, " Excelsior" our motto, and our mission " Save the flag! " In answer to the rebel yell, we gave a ringing cheer; We left the rifle-pits behind, the crest loomed upward near; A light wind playing 'long the peaks just lifted Death's gray shroud; We caught a gleam of silver stars just breaking through the cloud. A shattered arm hung at my side that day on Lookout's crag, And yet I'd give the other now to save the dear old flag. The regimental roll, when called on Lookout's crest that night, Was more than doubled by the roll Death called in realms of light. Just as the sun sank slowly down behind the mountain's crest, When mountain-peaks gave back the fire that flamed along the West, Swift riding down along the ridge upon a charger white Came " Fighting Joe," the hero now of Lookout's famous fight. He swung his cap as tears of joy slow trickled down his cheek, And as our cheering died away the general tried to speak. He said : " Boys, I'll court-martial you — yes, every man that's here ; I said to take the rifle-pits" — we stopped him with a cheer — 206 WERNER'S READINGS " I said to take the rifle-pits upon the mountain's edge, And I'll court-martial you because — because you took the ridge!" Then such a laugh as swept the ridge where late King Death had strode ! And such a cheer as rent the skies, as down our lines he rode! I'm getting old and feeble; I've not long to live, I know; But there was a fight at Lookout — I was there with Fighting Joe ! So them generals in the Herald, they may reckon and allow That there wa'n't no fight at Lookout on the mountain's shaggy brow ; But this empty coat-sleeve swinging here beside me, boy, to-day Tells a mighty different story in a mighty different way. THE BATTLE ABOVE THE CLOUDS. THERON BROWN. [Gen. Sherman joined Gen. Grant in November, 1863. On the 23d, 24th and 25th of that month were fought the famous battles of Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain.] BY the banks of Chattanooga, watching with a soldier's heed, In the chilly, autumn morning, gallant Grant was on his steed; For the foe had climbed above him, with the banners of their land, And their cannon swept the river from the hills of Cumberland. Like a trumpet rang his orders : " Howard, Thomas to the Bridge ! One brigade aboard the Dunbar, storm the heights of Mission Ridge ! On the left, the ledges, Sherman, charge, and hurl the rebels down; Hooker, take the steeps of Lookout, and the slope before the town." Fearless, from the Northern summit, looked the traitors, where they lay, On the gleaming Union army, marshalled as for muster-day; AND RECITATIONS. 207 Till the sudden shout of battle thundered upward from the farms, And they dropped their idle glasses, in a sudden rush to arms. Then together up the highlands surely, swiftly swept the lines, And the clang of war above them swelled with loud and louder signs, Till the loyal peaks of Lookout in the tempest seemed to throb, And the star-flag of our country soared in smoke o'er Orchard Knob. Day and night and day returning, ceaseless shock and ceaseless change, Still the furious mountain conflict burst and burned along the range ; While with battle's cloud of sulphur mingled heaven's mist of rain, Till the ascending squadron vanished from the gazers on the plain. From the boats upon the river, from the tents upon the shore, From the roofs of yonder city, anxious eyes the clouds explore; But no rift amid the darkness shows them fathers, brothers, sons, Where they trace the viewless struggle by the echo of the guns. Upward! charge for God and country! up! aha, they rush, they rise, Till the faithful meet the faithless in the never-clouded skies, And the battle-field is bloody, where a dewdrop never falls, For a voice of tearless justice for a tearless vengeance calls! And the heaven is wild with shouting; fiery shot and bayonet keen Gleam and glance where freedom's angels battle in the blue serene. Charge and volley fiercely follow, and the tumult in the air Tells of right in mortal grapple with rebellion's strong despair. They have conquered ! God's own legions ; well their foes might be dismayed, Standing in the mountain temple, 'gainst the terrors of His aid. And the clouds might fitly echo pagan loud and parting gun, When, from upper light and glory, sank the traitor host undone 208 WERNER'S READINGS They have conquered! Through the region where our brothers plucked the palm Rings the noise with which they won it with the sweetness of a psalm ; And our wounded sick and dying hear it in their crowded wards, And they whisper, " Heaven is with us ! lo, our battle is the Lord's !" And our famished captive heroes, locked in Richmond's prison-hells, List those guns of cloudland booming, glad as freedom's morning bells, Lift their haggard eyes, and, panting, with their cheeks against the bars, Feel God's breath of hope and see it playing with the Stripes and Stars. Tories safe in serpent treason startle as those airy cheers And that wild, ethereal war-drum falls like doom upon their ears; And that rush of cloud-borne armies rolling back a nation's shame Frights them with its sound of judgment, and the flash of angry flame. Widows weeping by their firesides, loyal sires despondent grown, Smile to hear their country's triumph from the gate of heaven blown ; And the patriots' children wonder in their simple hearts to know In the land above the thunder our embattled champions go. CASSY. HAEEIET BEECHER STOWE. ONE morning, when the hands were mustered for the field, Tom noticed, with surprise, a new-comer among them, whose appearance excited his attention. It was a woman, tall and slenderly formed, with remarkably delicate hands and feet, and dressed in neat and respectable garments. Where she came from, AND RECITATIONS. 209 or Avho she was, Tom did not know. The first he did know, she- was walking by his side, erect and proud in the dim gray of the dawn. To the gang, however, she was known, for there was much looking and turning of heads, and a smothered yet apparent exulta- tion among the miserable, ragged, half-starved creatures by whom she was surrounded. " Got to come to it at last; glad of it! " said one. "Ha! he! he!" said another; "you'll know how good it is, Missie! " " We'll see her work! " " Wonder if she'll get a cutting up, at night, like the rest of us! " " I'd be glad to see her down for a flogging, I'll be bound!" said another. The woman took no notice of these taunts, but walked on, with the same expression of angry scorn, as if she heard nothing. Tom had always lived among refined and cultivated people, and he felt intuitively, from her air and bearing, that she belonged to that class; but how or why she could be fallen to those degrading circumstances he could not tell. The woman neither looked at him nor spoke to him, though, all the way to the field, she kept close to his side. In the course of the day Tom was w r orking near the mulatto woman who had been bought in the same lot with himself. She was evidently in a condition of great suffering, and Tom often heard her praying, as she wavered and trembled, and seemed about to fall down. Tom silently, as he came near to her, transferred several handfuls of cotton from his own sack to hers. "Oh, don't, don't!" said the woman, looking surprised; "it'll get you into trouble." Just then Sambo came up. He seemed to have a special spite against this woman; and, flourishing his whip, said, in brutal, guttural tones, "What dis yer, Luce, — foolin'?" and, with the word, kicking the woman with his heavy cowhide shoe, he struck Tom across the face with his whip. 14 210 WERNER'S READINGS Tom silently resumed his task ; but the woman, before at the last point of exhaustion, fainted. "I'll bring her to! " said the driver, with a brutal grin. "I'll give her something better than camphire ! " and taking a pin from his coat-sleeve he buried it to the head in her flesh. The woman groaned, and half rose. " Get up, you beast, and work, will yer, or I'll show yer a trick more! " The woman seemed stimulated, for a few moments, to an un- natural strength, and worked with desperate eagerness. "See that you keep to dat ar," said the man, "or yer'll wish yer's dead to-night, I reckin! " At the risk of all that he might suffer, Tom came forward again, and put all the cotton in his sack into the woman's. "Oh, you mustn't! you donno what they'll do to ye!" said the woman. " I can bar it! " said Tom, " better'n you," and he was at his place again. It passed in a moment. Suddenly the stranger woman, who had in the course of her work come near to Tom, said: "You know nothing about this place, or you wouldn't have done that. When you've been here a month, you'll be done helping anybody; you'll find it hard enough to take care of your own skin ! " "The Lord forbid, Missis!" said Tom, using instinctively to his field companion the respectful form proper to the high-bred with whom he had lived. "The Lord never visits these parts," said the woman, bitterly, as she went nimbly forward with her work ; and again the scorn- ful smile curled her lips. But the action of the woman had been seen by the driver across the field ; and, flourishing his whip, he came up to her. " What! what! " he said to the woman, with an air of triumph, "you a-foolin'? Go along! yer under me now — mind yourself, or yer'll cotch it! " A glance like sheet-lightning suddenly flashed from those black eyes; and, facing about, with quivering lip and dilated nostrils, AND RECITATIONS. 211 she drew herself up, and fixed a glance, blazing with scorn and rage, on the driver. "Dog!" she said, "touch me, if you dare! I've power enough yet to have you torn by the dogs, burnt alive, cut to inches! I've only to say the word ! " "What de devil you here for, den?" said the man, evidently cowed, and sullenly retreating a step or two. " Didn't mean no harm, Missie Cassy." "Keep your distance, then!" said the woman. And, in truth, the man seemed greatly inclined to attend to something at the other end of the field, and started off in quick time. A SPOOL OF THREAD. SOPHIE E. EASTMAH. [The last battle of the war was at Brazos, Tex. , May 13th, 1865, resulting in the surrender of the Texan army.] WELL, yes, I've lived in Texas, since the spring of '61; And I'll relate the story, though I fear, sir, when 'tis done, 'Twill be little worth your hearing, it was such a simple thing, Unheralded in rondeaus that the grander poets sing. There had come a guest unbidden, at the opening of the year, To find a lodgment in our hearts, and the tenant's name was fear; For secession's drawing mandate was a call for men and arms, And each recurring eventide but brought us fresh alarms. They had notified the General that he must yield to fate, And all the muniments of war surrender to the state, But he sent from San Antonio an order to the sea To convey on board the steamer all the fort's artillery. Eight royal was his purpose, but the foe divined his plan, And the wily Texans set a guard to intercept the man 212 WERNER'S READINGS Detailed to bear the message ; they placed their watch with care That neither scout nor citizen should pass it unaware. Well, this was rather awkward, sir, as doubtless you will say, But the Major who was chief of staff resolved to have his way, Despite the watchful provost guard; so he asked his wife to send, With a little box of knick-knacks, a letter to her friend; And the missive held one sentence I remember to this day: " The thread is for your neighbor, Mr. French, across the way." He dispatched a youthful courier. Of course, as you will know, The Texans searched him thoroughly and ordered him to show The contents of the letter. They read it o'er and o'er, But failed to find the message they had hindered once before. So it reached the English lady, and she wondered at the word, But gave the thread to Major French, explaining that she heard He wished a spool of cotton. And great was his surprise At such a trifle sent, unasked, through leagues of hostile spies. "There's some hidden purpose, doubtless, in the curious gift," he said. Then he tore away the label, and inside the spool of thread Was Major Nichols' order, bidding him convey to sea All the arms and ammunition from Fort Duncan's battery. " Down to Brazos speed your horses," thus the Major's letter ran, " Shift equipments and munitions, and embark them if you can." Yes, the transfer was effected, for the ships lay close at hand. Ere the Texans guessed their purpose they had vanished from the land. Do I know it for a fact, sir? 'Tis no story that I've read — I was but a boy in war time, and I carried him the thread. — A 7 ". Y. Independent. AND RECITATIONS. 213 STONEWALL JACKSON'S DEATH. PAUL M. RUSSELL. [Gen. Joseph Hooker, in command of the Army of the Potomac lying opposite Fredericksburg, Md., crossed the Rappahannock River early in May, 1863, and fought the severe battle of Chancellorsville, in which was killed the famous Southern general, Thomas J. Jackson, commonly known as Stonewall Jackson. He received this name at the first battle of Bull Run. Defeat seemed imminent, and one of the Confederate gen- erals exclaimed : "Here stands Jackson like a stone wall, and here let us conquer or die!" Gen. Jackson's last words were : "Let us cross over the river and lie down under the trees. "] THE lightning flashed across the heaven, the distant thunder rolled, And, swayed by gusts of angry winds, the far-off church-bell tolled, FThe billows crashed against the rocks that kiss the ocean's foam, -And eager pilots trimmed their sails and turned their skiffs for home. As darkness fell upon the earth, and we were gathered round Our blazing hearth, and listening to the storm's teriific sound, We all looked up to Uncle Tom, who sat beside the fire, A-dreaming of the bygone days, and of disaster dire. For memory brought us back again to times of darkest woe, tWhen, strong in hand and light in heart, he fought the Northern foe. He often spoke of '46 — the fight on Mexic's plain — How Buena Vista heights were reached while bullets fell like rain. How Shields had gained Chapultepec, how Santa Anna fled, And how the Sisters labored even where the bullets sped ; And oft he spoke of later times, but always with a sigh, tWhen South and North rose up to fight en masse for cause or die. And as beside the fire he sat and piped his meerschaum well, We asked, to pass the time away, that he a tale should tell. IHe paused a moment, then he laid his good old pipe aside, And said, " I'll tell you boys, to-night, how Stonewall Jackson died. 214 WERNER'S READINGS " We were retreating from the foe, for Fredericksburg was lost, And on our flank, still threatening, appeared the Union host; Down by the Eappahannock, in our dismal tents we lay, And the lightest heart was heavy with our grave defeat that day. " For 'tis better for a soldier like Montgomery to die, Than live to see bis comrades from a hated foeman fly; But reverses often come upon defenders of the right, And justice seldom conquers, boys, when nations go to fight. " With heavy hearts we laid us down, but, mind you, not to sleep, Nor did we turn aside to sing, or turn aside to weep. But as we pondered o'er our griefs, a sudden moan was heard, Far louder than the willow's moan, when by the wind 'tis stirred. " It woke the camp from reverie, it woke the camp to fear ; And louder, louder grew the wail, most dreadful then to hear. And nearer came the weeping crowd, and something stiff and still Was borne, we knew not what it was, but followed with a will. "At last within our Gen'ral's tent the precious load was laid, And then a pallid soldier turned unto us all, and said : 'We thought it hard, my comrades brave, to lose the field to-day; But harder will our struggle be, to labor in the fray; For he is gone, our gallant chief, who could our hopes restore, And rout and ruin is our fate, since Stonewall is no more. ' " I cannot tell you how we felt, or how we acted then, For words are weak to tell a tale when grief has mastered men; But this I know, I pulled the cloth from off brave Jackson's face, And almost jumped with joy to see him gaze around the place. But, boys, it was a fleeting dream, a vacant stare he cast; He did not see the canvas shaken by the sudden blast; He did not see us weeping as we staunched the flowing blood, But again in battle fighting, he was where the foemen stood. AND RECITATIONS. 215 'Order Gen'ral Hill to action! ' loud he cried, as he was wont; md then he quickly added: 'Bring the infantry to front! ' §3 he saw the corps pass by him — as it were — in duty's call, uddenly he shouted : 'Drive them ! charge upon them, one and all !' Then he turned aside, and, smiling, said with voice of one in ease: Let us cross the foaming river ; let us rest beneath the trees. ' 'hen we waited, boys, and watched him, but no other word he said; 'or adown the foaming river had our leader's spirit sped." THE BAY FIGHT. HENRY H. BROWNELL. [One of the most notable naval exploits of the Civil War was performed Mobile Bay, August 5th, 1864. Rear- Admiral Farragut ran the bat- nries of Forts James and Morgan, and destroyed the rebel fleet. Farra- it was made Vice-Admiral by Congress in December, 1864.] THEEE days through sapphire seas we sailed, The steady trade blew strong and free, The Northern Light his banners paled, The ocean stream our channels wet, We rounded low Canaveral's lee, And passed the isles of emerald set In blue Bahama's turquoise sea. But weary to the hearts of all The burning glare, the barren reach Of Pensacola's ruined wall, And Santa Eosa's withered beach. And weary was the long patrol, The thousand miles of shapeless strand, From Brazos to San Bias that roll Their drifting dunes of desert sand. 216 WERNEE'S READINGS A weary time; but to the strong The day at last, as ever, came; And the volcano, laid so long, Leaped forth in thunder and in flame ! " Man your starboard battery!" Kimberly shouted; The ship, with her hearts of oak, Was going, 'mid roar and smoke, On to victory! none of us doubted, No, not our dying — Farragut's flag was flying! Gaines growled low on our left, Morgan roared on our right; Before us, gloomy and fell, With breath like the fume of hell, Lay the dragon of iron shell Driven at last to the fight ! Our lofty spars were down, To bide the battle's frown, (Wont of old renown) — But every ship was drest In her bravest and her best, As if for a July day ; Sixty flags and three. As we floated up the bay, At every peak and masthead flew The brave red, white, and blue. We were eighteen ships that day. Forging boldly ahead, The great flagship led, Grandest of sights! On her lofty mizzen flew AND RECITATIONS. 217 Our leader's dauntless blue, That had waved o'er twenty fights; So we went, with the first of the tide, Slowly, 'mid the roar Of the rebel guns ashore And the thunder of each full broadside. On, in the whirling shade Of the cannon's sulphury breath, We drew to the line of death That our devilish foe had laid; Meshed in a horrible net, And baited villainous well, Right in our path were set Three hundred traps of hell ! Then, in that deadly track, A little the ships held back, Closing up in their stations. There are minutes that fix the fate Of battles and of nations, (Christening the generations) When valor were all too late, If a moment's doubt be harbored. From the main-top, bold and brief, Came the word of our grand old chief, — " Go on !" 'twas all he said, Our helm was put to starboard, And the Hartford passed ahead. Trust me, our berth was hot. Ah, wickedly well they shot — How their death-bolts howled and stung! And the water-batteries played With their deadly cannonade 218 WERNER'S READINGS Till the air around us rung ; So the battle raged and roared. Ah, had you been aboard To have seen the fight we made! How they leaped, the tongues of flame, From the cannon's fiery lip! How the broadsides, deck and frame, Shook the great ship ! And how the enemy's shell Came crashing, heavy and oft, Clouds of splinters flying aloft And falling in oaken showers; — But ah, the pluck of the crew ! Had you stood on that deck of ours, You had seen what men may do. Still, as the fray grew louder, Boldly they worked and well — Steadily came the powder, Steadily came the shell. And if tackle or truck found hurt, Quickly they cleared the wreck. And the dead were laid to port, All in a row on our deck. Never a nerve that failed, Never a cheek that paled, Not a tinge of gloom or pallor ; There was bold Kentucky's grit, And the old Virginian valor, And the daring Yankee wit. Grand was the sight to see How by their guns they stood, AND RECITATIONS. 219 Eight in front of our dead, Fighting square abreast, Each brawny arm and chest All spotted with black and red, Chrism of fire and blood ! Worth our watch, dull and sterile, Worth all the weary time, Worth the woe and the peril, To stand in that strait sublime! Fear? A forgotten form! Death? A dream of the eyes! We were atoms in God's great storm That roared through the angry skies. From the first of the iron shower Till we sent our parting shell, 'Twas just one savage hour Of the roar and the rage of hell. With the lessening smoke and thunder, Our glasses around we aim, — What is that burning yonder? Our Philippi — aground and in flame! Below, 'twas still all a-roar, As the ships went by the shore, But the fire of the fort had slacked, (So fierce their volleys had been) — And now, with a mighty din, The whole fleet came grandly in, Though sorely battered and wracked. So, up the Bay we ran, The flag to port and ahead, And a pitying rain began To wash the lips of our dead. 220 WERNER'S READINGS A league from the fort we lay, And deemed that the end must lag. When lo ! looking down the Bay, There flaunted the rebel rag; — The ram is again under way And heading dead for the flag! Quickly breasting the wave, Eager the prize to win, First of us all the brave Monongahela went in Under full head of steam ; Twice she struck him abeam, Till her stem was a sorry work, She might have run on a crag! The Lackawanna hit fair, He flung her aside like cork, And still he held for the flag. High in the mizzen shroud, Lest the smoke his sight o'erwhelm, Our Admiral's voice rang loud, " Hard-a-starboard your helm ! Starboard ! and run him down ! " Starboard it was; and so, Like a black squall's lifting frown, Our mighty bow bore down On the iron beak of the foe. We stood on the deck together, Men that had looked on death In babtle and stormy weather, Yet a little we held our breath, When, with the hush of death, The great ships drew together. AND RECITATIONS. 221 Our Captain strode to the bow, Drayton, courtly and wise, Kindly, cynic, and wise, (You hardly had known him now, The flame of fight in his eyes) — His brave heart eager to feel How the oak would tell on the steel! But, as the space grew short, A little he seemed to shun us, Out peered a form grim and lanky, And a voice yelled : " Hard-a-port ! Hard-a-port! — here's the damned Yankee Coming right down on us! " He sheered, but the ships ran foul With a jarring shudder and growl. He gave us a deadly gun ; But as he passed in his pride, Rasping right alongside, The old flag, in thunder-tones, Poured in her port broadside, Eattling his iron hide, And cracking his timber bones! Ah, then The hurrahs that, once and again, Rang from three thousand men, All flushed and savage with fight! Our dead lay cold and stark, But our dying, down in the dark, Answered as best they might, Lifting their poor lost arms, And cheering for God and right! 222 WERNER'S READINGS Ended the mighty noise, Thunder of forts and ships; Down we went to the hold — Oh, our dear dying boys ! How we pressed their poor brave lips, Ah! so pallid and cold, And held their hands to the last — Those that had hands to hold. Our ship and her fame to-day Shall float on the storied stream When mast and shroud have crumbled away, And her long white deck is a dream. One daring leap in the dark, Three mortal hours, at the most, And hell lies stiff and stark On a hundred leagues of coast. For the mighty Gulf is ours, — The bay is lost and won, An empire is lost and won ! Land, if thou yet hast flowers, Twine them in one more wreath Of tenderest white and red, Twin buds of glory and death, For the brows of our brave dead,— For thy navy's noblest son. motherland ! this weary life We led, we lead, is 'long of thee; Thine the strong agony of strife, And thine the lonely sea. AND RECITATIONS. 223 Thine the long decks all slaughter-sprent, The weary rows of cots that lie With wrecks of strong men, marred and rent, 'Neath Pensacola's sky. And thine the iron caves and dens Wherein the flame our war-fleet drives; The fiery vaults, whose breath is men's Most dear and precious lives ! Ah, ever, when with storm sublime Dread nature clears our murky air, Thus in the crash of falling crime Some lesser guilt must share. Full red the furnace fires must glow That melt the ore of mortal kind: The mills of God are grinding slow, But ah, how close they grind ! Be strong. Already slants the gold Athwart these wild and stormy skies; From out this blackened waste, behold What happy homes shall rise ! And never fear a victor foe, Thy children's hearts are strong and high; Nor mourn too fondly ; well they know On deck or field to die. Nor shalt thou want one willing breath, Though, ever smiling round the brave, The blue sea bear us on to death, The green were one wide grave. 224 WERNER'S READINGS LITTLE GIFFEN. DE. FRANCIS ORRERY TICKKOR. [A ballad of such unique and really transcendent merit that it ought to rank with the rarest gems of modern martial poetry.— Paul H. Hayne.] OUT of the focal and foremost fire, Out of the hospital walls as dire; Smitten of grape-shot and gangrene. (Eighteenth battle, and he sixteen !) Spectre ! such as you seldom see — Little Giffen, of Tennessee! " Take him and welcome! " the surgeons said; Little the doctor can help the dead! So we took him, and brought him where The balm was sweet in the summer air ; And we laid him down on a wholesome bed — Utter Lazarus heel to head! And we watched the war with abated breath — Skeleton boy against skeleton death. Months of torture, how many such? Weary weeks of the stick and crutch; And still a glint of the steel-blue eye Told of a spirit that wouldn't die, And didn't. Nay, more! in death's despite The crippled skeleton learned to write ! "Dear mother," at first, of course; and then "Dear captain," inquiring about the men. Captain's answer: "0' eighty-and-five, Giffen and I are left alive." Word of gloom from the war, one day ; Johnson pressed at the front, they say. Little Giffen was up and away ; AND RECITATIONS. 225 A tear — his first — as he bade good-bye, Dimmed the glint of his steel-blue eye. " I'll write if spared." There was news of the fight, But none of Giffen — he did not write. I sometimes fancy that were I king Of the princely knights of the golden ring, With the song of the minstrel in mine ear, And the tender legend that trembles here, I'd give the best, on his bended knee, The whitest soul of my chivalry, For little Giffen, of Tennessee. THE FREEMAN'S DEFENCE. HAEKIET BEECHEK STOWE. ' ' \/ES, Eliza," said George, "I know all you say is true. I You are a good child — a great deal better than I am, and I will try to do as you say. I'll try to act worthy of a free man. I'll try to feel like a Christian. God Almighty knows that I've meant to do well — tried hard to do well — when everything has been against me; and now I'll forget all the past, and put away every hard and bitter feeling, and read my Bible, and learn to be a good man." " And when we get to Canada," said Eliza, " I can help you. I can do dress-making very well, and I understand fine washing and ironing; and between us we can find something to live on." " Yes, Eliza, so long as we have each other and our boy. Eliza, if these people only knew what a blessing it is for a man to feel that his wife and child belong to him. I've often wondered to see men that could call their wives and children their own, fretting and worrying about anything else. Why, I feel rich and strong, though we have nothing but our bare hands. I feel as if I could scarcely ask God for any more. Yes, though I have worked 15 226 WERNER'S READINGS r hard every day till I am twenty-five years old, and have not a cent of money, nor a roof to cover me, nor a spot of land to call my own, yet, if they will only let me alone now, I will be satisfied — thankful. I will work, and send back the money for you and my boy. As to my old master, he has been paid five times over for all he spent for me. I don't owe him anything." " But yet we are not quite out of danger," said Eliza; " we are not yet in Canada." " True, but it seems as if I smelt the free air, and it makes me strong." At this moment, voices were heard in the outer apartment, in earnest conversation, and very soon a rap was heard on the door. Eliza started and opened it. Simeon Halliday was there, and with him a Quaker brother, whom he introduced as Phineas Fletcher. " Our friend Phineas," said Simeon, " hath discovered something of importance to the interests of thee and thy party, George; it were well for thee to hear it." " That I have," said Phineas, " and it shows the use of a man's always sleeping with one ear open, in certain places, as I've always said. I heard them say something about Quakers. ' So, ' says one, 'they are up in the Quaker settlement,' says he. Then I listened with both ears, and I found that they were talking about this very party. So I lay and heard them lay off their plans. This young man, they said, was to be sent back to Kentucky, to his master, who was going to make an example of him to keep niggers from running away ; and his wife two of them were going to run down to New Orleans to sell, on their own account, and they calculated to get sixteen or eighteen hundred dollars for her; and the child, they said, was going to a trader, who had bought him ; and then there was the boy Jim and his mother — they were to go back to their masters in Kentucky. They said that there were two con- stables in a town a little piece ahead, who would go in with 'em to get 'em taken up, and the young woman was to be taken before a judge; and one of the fellows, who is small and smooth-spoken, AND RECITATIONS. 227 was to swear to her as his property, and get her delivered over to him to take South. They've got a right notion of the track we are going to-night, and they'll be down after us, six or eight strong. So, now, what's to be done? " The group that stood in various attitudes, after this communica- tion, was worthy of a painter. Kachel Halliday, who had taken her hands out of a batch of biscuit, to hear the news, stood with them upraised and floury, and with a face of the deepest concern ; Simeon looked profoundly thoughtful ; Eliza had thrown her arms around her husband, and was looking up to him; George stood with clinched hands and glowing eyes, and looking as any other man might look whose wife was to be sold at auction and son sent to a trader, all under the shelter of a Christian nation's laws. "What shall we do, George?" said Eliza, faintly. "I know what I shall do," said George, as he stepped into the little room, and began examining his pistols. "Ay, ay," said Phineas, nodding his head to Simeon; "thou seest, Simeon, how it will work." " I see," said Simeon, sighing; " I pray it come not to that." " I will attack no man," said George. " All I ask of this country is to be let alone, and I will go out peaceably; but" — he paused, his brow darkened and his face worked, — " I've had a sister sold in that New Orleans market. I know what they are sold for; and am I going to stand by and see them take my wife and sell her, when God has given me a pair of strong arms to defend her? No, God help me! I'll fight to the last breath before they shall take my wife and son. Can you blame me? " " Mortal man cannot blame thee, George. Flesh and blood could not do otherwise," said Simeon. " Woe unto the world because of offences, but woe unto them through whom the offence cometh." "Eliza," said George, "people that have friends, and houses and lands, and money, and all those things can't love as we do, who have nothing but each other. Till I knew you, Eliza, no creature ever had loved me, but my poor heart-broken mother and sister. I saw poor Emily that morning the trader carried her off, 228 WERNER'S READINGS She came to the corner where I was lying asleep, and said, 'Poor George, your last friend is going. What will become of you, poor boy? ' And I got up and threw my arms around her and cried and sobbed, and she cried, too ; and those were the last kind words I got for ten long years, and my heart all withered up, and felt as dry as ashes, till I met you. Your loving me — why, it was al- most like raising one from the dead! I've been a new man ever since. And now, Eliza, I'll give my last drop of blood, but they shall not take you from me. Whoever gets you must walk over my dead body! " " Lord, have mercy! " said Eliza, sobbing. " If He will only let us get out of this country together, that is all we ask." "Is God on their side?" said George, speaking less to his wife than pouring out his own bitter thoughts. " Does He see all they do? Why does He let such things happen? And they tell us that the Bible is on their side. Certainly all the power is. They are rich and healthy and happy ; they are members of churches, ex- pecting to go to heaven ; and they get along so easy in the world, and have it all their own way, and poor, honest, faithful Chris- tians — 'Christians as good or better than they are — lying in the very dust under their feet. They buy 'em and sell 'em, and make trade of their hearts' blood and groans and tears, and God lets 'em." Later in the day George and Eliza were taken in a covered wagon by Phineas Fletcher, who had planned to aid their escape into Canada, but the pursuers were upon them — " right on behind, eight or ten of them, hot with brandy, swearing, and foaming like so many wolves." The party in pursuit consisted of Tom Loker and Marks, the two constables, and a posse made up of such rowdies at the last tavern as could be engaged by a little brandy to go and help the fun of trapping a lot of negroes. At this moment George appeared on the top of a rock above them, and speaking in a calm, clear voice said: "Gentlemen, who are you, down there, and what do you want? " AND RECITATIONS. 229 " We want a party of runaway niggers," was the answer. " One George Harris and Eliza Harris and their son, and Jim Selden, and an old woman. We've got the officers here and a warrant to take 'em; and we're going to have 'em, too. D'ye hear? Ain't you George Harris that belongs to Mr. Harris, of Shelby County, Kentucky? " " I am George Harris. A Mr. Harris, of Kentucky, did call me his property. But now I'm a free man, standing on God's free soil. My wife and my child I claim as mine. Jim and his mother are here. We have arms to defend ourselves and we mean to do it. You can come up if you like, but the first one of you that comes within the range of our bullets is a dead man, and the next, and the next, and so on till the last." "Oh, come, come, young man, this ain't no kind of talk at all for you. You see, we're officers of justice. We've got the law on our side, and the power, and so forth; so you'd better give up peaceably, you see, for you'll certainly have to give up at last." "I know very well that you've got the law on your side and power," said George, bitterly. " You mean to take my wife to sell in New Orleans, and put my boy, like a calf, in a trader's pen, and send Jim's old mother to the brute that whipped and abused her. You want to send Jim and me back to be whipped and tor- tured and ground down under the heels of them that you call masters; and your laws will bear you out in it, more shame for you and them! But you haven't got us. We stand here as free, under God's sky, as you are ; and by the great God who made us will fight for our liberty till we diel " George stood on the top of the rock as he made his declaration of independence. The glow of dawn gave a flush to his swarthy cheek, and J itter indignation and despair gave fire to his dark eye, and as if appealing from man to the justice of God, he raised his hand to heaven as he spoke. The attitude, eye, voice and manner of the speaker for a mo- ment struck the party to silence. There is something in boldness and determination that for a time hushes even the rudest nature. 230 WERNER'S READINGS One man, however, the constable, Loker, remained wholly un- touched. He was deliberately cocking his pistol, and in the momentary silence that followed George's speech he fired at him. " Ye see ye git jist as much for him dead as 'live in Kentucky," he said, coolly. " I'm going right up, for one. I never was afraid of niggers, and I ain't going to be now. Who goes after? " he said, springing up the rocks. George fired. The shot entered Loker's side; but though wounded he would not retreat. With a yell like that of a wild bull he was leaping right across the chasm into the party. "Friend," said Phineas, suddenly stepping to the front and meeting him with a push from his long arms, " thee isn't wanted here." Down he fell into the chasm thirty feet below. " Lord help us, they are perfect devils!" said Marks, heading the retreat down the rocks, while all the party came tumbling precipitately after him. A BATTLE POEM. BENJAMIN F. TAYLOR. [Copyrighted by S. C. Griggs & Co.] BREAK up camp, drowsy World ! For the shrouds are unfurled, And the dead drummers beat the long-roll through the morn, And the bugle-blown orders Invade the dumb borders Where the grave-digger dreamed he had laid them forlorn. From old Saratoga, From old Ticonderoga, From Bennington, Bunker, and Lexington Green, They have marched back sublime To the sentries of time, And have passed on triumphant, unchallenged between ! AND RECITATIONS. 231 I can hear the flint-locks, The old click of the clocks That timed liberty's step, to no pendulum swing! When the bullets all sped, Woman smilingly said, " Let us charm the dull weights till they fly and they sing!" Ah ! those old blackened ladles Where glory's own cradles Rocked a red-coat to sleep with each birth from the mould, And the old-fashioned fire Blazed hotter and higher, Till it welded the New World and walled out the Old. By battalions they come, To the snarl of the drum ! Bleeding feet that turned beautiful, printing the snow. For roses seem blowing Where'er they are going, As if June, with her blushes, were buried below. Hail, mighty campaigners! The Lord's old retainers, Eighty winters on furlough, the tidings ye bring, Of the old royal Georges And the old Valley Forges, Our cannon are telling : the people are king ! Clear and strong, far and near, Eings a Green Mountain cheer, And they lower their dim colors, all shivered and shred, And their swords red with rust, And their guns gray with dust, And then shoulder to shoulder, the living and dead ! The broad age is a line — Past and present entwine — 232 WERNER'S READINGS We will finish the work that the Fathers begun ; Then those to their sleeping, And these to their weeping, And one faith and flag for the Federal gun! Speak, helmsman, the words Half battles, half swords — Let the " President's March" be resounding abroad ; With the pen and the page Keeping time with the age, Till thy swords without scabbards flash grandly for God! Then the rattling roll of the musketeers, And the ruffled drums, and the rallying cheers, And the rifles burn with a keen desire, Like the crackling whips of the hemlock fire; And the singing shout, and the shrieking shell, And the splintery fire of the shattered hell, And the great white breaths of the cannon smoke, As the growling guns by batteries spoke In syllables dropped from the thunder of God — The throb of the cloud where the drummer boy trod! And the ragged gaps in the walls of blue Where the iron surge rolled heavily through, That the colonel builds with a breath again, As he cleaves the din with his " Close up, men! " And the groan torn out from the blackened lips, And the prayer doled slow with the crimson drips, And the beamy look in the dying eye, As under the cloud the Stars go by! But his soul marched on, the captain said, For the boy in blue can never be dead! And the troopers sit in their saddles all, As the statues carved in an ancient hall, AND RECITATIONS. 233 And they watch the whirl from their breathless ranks, And their spurs are close to the horses' flanks, And the fingers work of the sabre hand — Oh ! to bid them live, and to make them grand ! And the bugle sounds to the charge at last, And away they plunge, and the front is past, And the jackets blue grow red as they ride, And the scabbards, too, that clank by their side, And the dead soldiers deaden the strokes iron shod, As they gallop right on o'er the plashy red sod; Eight into the clouds all spectral and dim, Eight up to the guns, black-throated and grim, Eight down on the hedges bordered with steel, Eight through the dense columns, then "Eight about, wheel! " Hurrah ! a new swath through the harvest again ! Hurrah for the flag! To the battle, amen! glimpse of clear heaven! Artillery riven The Fathers' old fallow God seeded with stars; Thy furrows were turning, When ploughshares were burning, And half of each " bout " is redder than Mars! Flaunt forever thy story, wardrobe of glory Where the Fathers laid down their mantles of blue ; And challenged the ages, grandest of pages In covenant solemn, eternal, and true. flag! glory-rifted, To-day thunder-drifted, Like a tower of strange grace, on the crest of a surge; On some Federal fold A new tale shall be told, And the record immortal emblazon thy verge, 234 WERNER'S READINGS VICKSBURG. PAUL HAMILTON HATNE. FOE sixty days and upward a storm of shell and shot Eained round us in a flaming shower, but still we faltered not. " If the noble city perish," our grand young leader said, " Let the only walls the foes shall scale be ramparts of the dead! " For sixty days and upward the eye of heaven waxed dim; And e'en throughout God's holy morn, o'er Christian prayer and hymn, Arose a hissing tumult, as if the fiends in air Strove to engulf the voice of faith in the shrieks of their despair. There was wailing in the houses, there was trembling on the marts, While the tempest raged and thundered, 'mid the silent thrill of hearts; But the Lord, our shield, was with us, and ere a month had sped, Our very women walked the streets with scarce one throb of dread ; And the little children gambolled, their faces purely raised, Just for a wondering moment, as the huge bombs whirled and blazed ; Then turned with silvery laughter to the sports which children love Thrice-mailed in the sweet instinctive thought that the good God watched above. Yet the hailing bolts fell faster from scores of flame-clad ships, And above us, denser, darker, grew the conflict's wild eclipse; Till a solid cloud closed o'er us, like a type of doom and ire, Whence shot a thousand quivering tongues of forked and vengeful fire. But the unseen hand of angels those death-shafts warned aside, And the dove of heavenly mercy ruled o'er the battle-tide; In the houses ceased the wailing and through the war-scarred marts The people strode, with the step of hope, to the music in their hearts. AND RECITATIONS. 235 THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL, 1861. LUCY LAKCOM. [I think your purpose is a good one— to keep our national history a reality for the younger peoople ; and I will explain that these verses were written on the very day that the news came by telegraph of our soldiers being fired upon as they passed through Baltimore. I had seen that very regiment leave Boston the day before. It was an intense experience. The " To-day for us have bled" was literally true, and if you wish to make use of the fact, you can do so.— Lucy Larcom.] THIS year, till late in April, the snow fell thick and light; The flag of peace, dear nature, in clinging drifts of white Hung over field and city ; now everywhere is seen, In place of that white quietness, a sudden glow of green. The verdure climbs the Common, beneath the ancient trees, To where the glorious Stars and Stripes are floating on the breeze, There, suddenly spring awoke from winter's snow-draped gloom, The passion flower of Seventy-six is bursting into bloom. Dear is the time of roses, when earth to joy is wed, And garden-plot and meadow wear one generous flush of red ; But now in dearer beauty, to freedom's colors true, Blooms the old town of Boston in red and white and blue. Along the whole awakening North are those true colors spread; A summer noon of patriotism is burning overhead, No party badges flaunting now, no word of clique or clan ; But " Up for God and Union! " is the shout of every man. Oh, peace is dear to Northern hearts, our hard-earned homes more dear; But freedom is beyond the price of any earthly cheer; And freedom's flag is sacred; he who would work it harm, Let him, although a brother, beware our strong right arm ! 236 WERNERS READINGS A brother! ah, the sorrow, the anguish of that word! The fratricidal strife begun, when shall its end be heard? Not this the boon that patriot hearts have prayed and waited for ; We loved them, and we longed for peace; but they would have it war. Yes, war! On this memorial day, the day of Lexington, A lightning thrill along the wires from heart to heart has run; Brave men we gazed on yesterday, to-day for us have bled ; Again is Massachusetts blood the first for freedom shed. To war, and with our brethren, then, if only this can be ! Life hangs as nothing in the scale against dear liberty ! Though hearts be torn asunder, we for motherland will fight; Our blood may seal the victory, but God will shield the right ! AND RECITATIONS. 237 Period VII.— THE DAWNING OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY. AMERICA. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. LOOK now abroad, — another race has filled These populous borders, — wide the wood recedes, And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled ; The land is full of harvests and green meads; Streams numberless, that many a fountain feeds, Shine, disembowered, and give to sun and breeze Their virgin waters; the full region leads New colonies forth that toward the western seas Spread, like a rapid flame among the autumnal trees. Here the free spirit of mankind at length, Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength, Or curb his swiftness in the forward race; Far, like the comet's way through infinite space, Stretches the long untravelled path of light Into the depths of ages; we may trace, Distant, the brightening glory of its flight, Till the receding rays' are lost to human sight. Europe is given a prey to sterner fates, And writhes in shackles; strong the arms that chain To earth her struggling multitude of states; She too is strong and might not chafe in vain 238 WERNER'S READINGS Against them, but shake off the vampire train That fatten on her blood, and break their net. Yes, she shall look on brighter days, and gain The meed of worthier deeds; the moment set To rescue and raise up, draws near — but is not yet. But thou, my country, thou shalt never fall, But with thy children, thy maternal care, Thy lavish love, thy blessings showered on all — These are thy fetters; seas and stormy air Are the wide barrier of thy borders, where, Among thy gallant sons that guard thee well, Thou laugh'st at enemies. "Who shall then declare The date of thy deep-founded strength, or tell How happy, in thy lap, the sons of men shall dwell? FOURTH OF JULY. GEORGE W. BETHUNE. MAINE, from her farthest border, gives the first exulting shout, And from New Hampshire's granite heights the echoing peal rings out; The mountain farms of staunch Vermont prolong the thundering call, And Massachusetts answers " Banker Hill" — a watchword for us all. Khode Island shakes her sea-wet locks, acclaiming with the free, And staid Connecticut breaks forth in joyous harmony; The giant joy of proud New York, loud as an earthquake's roar, Is heard from Hudson's crowded banks to Erie's crowded shore. Still on the booming volley rolls, o'er plains and flowery glades, To where the Mississippi's flood the turbid gulf invades; There, borne from many a mighty stream upon her mightier tide, Come down the swelling, long huzzas from all that valley wide. AND RECITATIONS. 239 And wood-crowned Alleghany's call, from all her summits high, Reverberates among the rocks that pierce the sunset sky; While on the shores and through the swales round the vast inland seas, The Stars and Stripes, 'midst freemen's songs, are flashing to the breeze. The woodsman, from the mother, takes his boy upon his knee, And tells him how their fathers fought and bled for liberty. The lonely hunter sits him down the forest spring beside, To think upon his country's worth, and feel his country's pride; While many a foreign accent, which our God can understand, Is blessing Him for home and bread in this free, fertile land. Yes, when upon the Eastern coast we sink to happy rest, The Day of Independence rolls still onward to the West, Till dies on the Pacific shore the shout of jubilee That woke the morning with its voice along the Atlantic Sea. God, look down upon the land which Thou hast loved so well, And grant that in unbroken truth her children still may dwell ; Nor, while the grass grows on the hill and streams flow through the vale, May they forget their fathers' faith, or in their covenant fail; Keep, God, the fairest, noblest land that lies beneath the sun — " Our country, our whole country, and our country ever one." THE GRAY FOREST EAGLE. ALFRED B. STREET. WITH storm-daring pinion, and sun-gazing eye, The gray forest eagle is king of the sky ! Oh, little he loves the green valley of flowers, Where sunshine and song cheer the bright summer hours, 240 WERNER'S READINGS But the dark, gloomy gorge, where down plunges the foam Of the fierce, rocky torrent, he claims as his home ; There he blends his keen shriek with the roar of the flood, And the many-voiced sounds of the blast-smitten wood. A fitful red glaring, a low, rumbling jar, Proclaim the storm-demon, yet raging afar; The black cloud strides upward, the lightning more red, And the roll of the thunder, more deep and more dread : The gray forest eagle, where, where has he sped? Does he shrink to his eyry, and shiver with dread? Does the glare blind his eyes? Has the terrible blast On the wing of the sky-king a fear-fetter cast? Oh no! the brave eagle! He thinks not of fright; The wrath of the tempest but rouses delight; To the flash of the lightning his eye casts a gleam, To the shriek of the wild blast he echoes his scream, And with front like a warrior that speeds to the fray, And a clapping of pinions, he's up and away! Away, oh away, soars the fearless and free ! What recks he the sky's strife? its monarch is he! The lightning darts round him — undaunted his sight; The blast sweeps against him — unwavered his flight; High upward, still upward he wheels, till his form Is lost in the dark scowling gloom of the storm. The tempest glides o'er with its terrible train, And the splendor of sunshine is glowing again; And full on the form of the tempest in flight, The rainbow's magnificence gladdens the sight ! The gray forest eagle ! Oh, where is he now, While the sky wears the smile of its God on its brow? AND RECITATIONS. 241 There's a dark floating spot by yon cloud's pearly wreath, With the speed of the arrow 'tis shooting beneath ; "Down, nearer and nearer, it draws to the gaze — Now over the rainbow — now blent with its blaze; "lis the eagle, the gray forest eagle ! Once more He sweeps to his eyry; his journey is o'er! Time whirls round his circle, his years roll away, But the gray forest eagle minds little his sway; The child spurns its buds for youth's thorn-hidden bloom; Seeks manhood's bright phantoms, finds age and a tomb; But the eagle's eye dims not, his wing is unbowed, Still drinks he the sunshine, still scales he the cloud. An emblem of freedom stern, haughty, and high, Is the gray forest eagle, that king of the sky ! When his shadows steal black o'er the empires of kings, Deep terror, deep heart-shaking terror, he brings; Where wicked oppression is armed for the weak, There rustles his pinion, there echoes his shriek ; His eye flames with vengeance, he sweeps on his way, And his talons are bathed in the blood of his prey. Oh, that eagle of freedom! When cloud upon cloud Swathed the sky of my own native land with a shroud, When lightnings gleamed fiercely, and thunderbolts rung, How proud to the tempest those pinions were flung ! Though the wild blast of battle rushed fierce through the air With darkness and dread, still the eagle was there; Unquailing, still speeding, his swift flight was on, Till the rainbow of peace crowned the victory won. Oh, that eagle of freedom ! Age dims not his eye, He has seen earth's mortality spring, bloom, and die! 16 242 WERNER'S READINGS He has seen the strong nations rise, flourish, and fall; He mocks at time's changes, he triumphs o'er all; He has seen our own land with wild forests o'erspread, He sees it with sunshine and joy on its head ; And his presence will hless this his own chosen clime, Till the archangel's fiat is set upon time. "7 HISTORY OF OUR FLAG. KEY. ALBERT B. PUTNAM. THE history of our glorious old flag is of exceeding interest, and brings back to us a throng of sacred and thrilling associa- tions. The banner of St. Andrew was blue, charged with a white altier or cross, in the form of the letter X, and was used in Scot- land as early as the eleventh century. The banner of St. George was white, charged with the red cross, and was used in England as early as the first part of the fourteenth century. By a royal proc- lamation, dated April 12th, 1700, these two crosses were joined together upon the same banner, forming the ancient national flag of England. It was not until Ireland, in 1801, was made a part of Great Britain, that the present national flag of England, so well known as the Union Jack, was completed. But it was the ancient flag of England that constituted the basis of our American banner. Various other flags had, indeed, been raised at other times by our colonial ancestors. But they were not particularly associated with, or, at least, were not incorporated into and made a part of the destined " Stars and Stripes." It was after Washington had taken command of the first army of the Revolution, at Cambridge, that (January 2d, 1776) he un- folded before them the new flag of thirteen stripes of alternate red and white, having upon one of its corners the red and white crosses of St. George and St. Andrew, on a field of blue. And this was AND RECITATIONS. 243 the standard which was borne into the city of Boston when it was evacuated by the British troops, and was entered by the American army. Uniting, as it did, the flags of England and America, it showed that the colonists were not yet prepared to sever the tie that bound them to the mother-country. By that union of flags they claimed to be a vital and substantial part of the empire of Great Britain, and demanded the rights and privileges which such a relation im- plied. Yet it was by these thirteen stripes that they made known the union also of the thirteen colonies, the stripes of white declar- ing the purity and innocence of their cause, and the stripes of red giving forth defiance to cruelty and oppression. On the 14th day of June, 1777, it was resolved by Congress, " That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white, and the Union be thirteen white stars in the blue field." This resolution was made public September 3d, 1777, and the flag that was first made and used in pursuance of it was that which led the Americans to victory at Saratoga. Here the thirteen stars were arranged in a circle, as we sometimes see them now, in order better to express the union of the states. In 1794, there having been two more new states added to the Union, it was voted that the alternate stripes, as well as the cir- cling stars, be fifteen in number, and the flag, as thus altered and enlarged, was the one which was borne through all the contests of the war of 1812. But it was thought that the flag would at length become too large if a new stripe should be added with every freshly- admitted state. It was therefore enacted, in 1818, that a perma- nent return should be made to the original number of thirteen stripes, and that the number of stars should henceforth correspond to the growing number of states. Thus the flag would symbolize the Union as it might be at any given period of its history, and also as it was at the very hour of its birth. It was at the same time suggested that these stars, instead of being arranged in a circle, should be formed into a single star — a suggestion which we occasionally see adopted. In fine, no 244 WERNER'S READINGS particular order seems now to be observed with respect to the ar- rangement of the constellation. It is enough if only the whole number be there upon that azure field — the blue to be emblematical of perseverance, vigilance, and justice, each star to signify the glory of the state it may represent, and the wlrole to be eloquent forever of a Union that must be " one and inseparable." What precious associations cluster around our flag! Not alone have our fathers set up this banner in the name of God over the well-won battle-fields of the Revolution, and over the cities and towns which they rescued from despotic rule ; but think where also their descendants have carried it, and raised it in conquest or pro- tection ! Through what clouds of dust and smoke has it passed — what stoims of shot and shell — what scenes of fire and blood! Not only at Saratoga, at Monmouth, and at Yorktown, but at Lundy's Lane and New Orleans, at Buena Vista and Chapultepec. It is the same glorious old flag which, inscribed with the dying words of Lawrence, " Don't give up the ship," was hoisted on Lake Erie by Commodore Perry just on the eve of his great naval victory ; the same old flag which our great chieftain bore in triumph to the proud city of the Aztecs, and planted upon the heights of her national palace. Brave hands raised it above the eternal regions of ice in the Arctic seas, and have set it up on the summits of the lofty mountains of the distant West. Where has it not gone, the pride of its friends and the terror of its foes? What countries and what seas has it not visited? Where has not the American citizen been able to stand beneath its guar- dian folds and defy the world? With what joy and exultation seamen and tourists have gazed upon its stars and stripes, read in it the history of their nation's glory, received from it the full sense of security, and drawn from it the inspirations of patriotism! By it, how many have sworn fealty to their country ! What bursts of magnificent eloquence it has called forth from Webster and from Everett! What lyric strains of poetry from Drake and Holmes ! How many heroes its folds have covered in death ! How many have lived for it, and how many have died for AND RECITATIONS. 245 it! How many, living and dying, have said, in their enthusiastic devotion to its honor, like that young wounded sufferer in the streets of Baltimore, " Oh, the flag! the Stars and Stripes! " And wherever that flag has gone, it has been the herald of a better day ; it has been the pledge of freedom, of justice, of order, of civili- zation, and of Christianity. Tyrants only have hated it, and the enemies of mankind alone have trampled it to the earth. All who sigh for the triumph of truth and righteousness love and salute it. THE AMERICAN FLAG. HENRY WARD BEECHER. A THOUGHTFUL mind, when it sees a nation's flag, sees not the flag only, but the nation itself; and whatever may be its symbols, its insignia, he reads chiefly in the flag the government, the principles, the truths, the history, which belong to the nation which sets it forth. When the French tricolor rolls out to the wind, we see France. When the new-found Italian flag is unfurled, we see resurrected Italy. When the other three-cornered Hungarian flag shall be lifted to the wind, we shall see in it the long-buried but never dead principles of Hungarian liberty. When the united crosses of St. Andrew and St. George on a fiery ground set forth the banner of Old England, we see not the cloth merely ; there rises up before the mind the noble aspect of that monarchy, which, more than any other on the globe, has advanced its banner for liberty, law, and national prosperity. This nation has a banner, too ; and wherever it streamed abroad, men saw daybreak bursting on their eyes, for the American flag has been the symbol of liberty, and men rejoiced in it. Not another flag on the globe had such an errand, or went forth upon the sea carrying everywhere, the world around, such hope for the captive, and such glorious tidings. The stars upon it were to the pining nations like the morning stars of God, and the stripes upon it were beams of morning light. 246 WERNER'S READINGS As at early dawn the stars stand first, and then it grows light, and then as the sun advances, that light breaks into banks and stream- ing lines of color, the glowing red and intense white striving together and ribbing the horizon with bars effulgent, so on the American flag, stars and beams of many-colored light shine out together. And wherever the flag comes, and men behold it, they see in its sacred emblazonry no rampant lion and fierce eagle, but only light, and every fold significant of liberty. The history of this banner is all on one side. Under it rode Washington and his armies; before it Burgoyne laid down his arms. It waved on the highlands at West Point; it floated over old Fort Montgomery. When Arnold would have surrendered these valuable fortresses and precious legacies, his night was turned into day, and his treachery was driven away by the beams of light from this starry banner. It cheered our army, driven from New York, in their solitary pilgrimage through New Jersey. It streamed in light over Valley Forge and Morristown. It crossed the waters rolling with ice at Trenton; and when its stars gleamed in the cold morning with victory, a new day of hope dawned on the de- spondency of the nation. And when, at length, the long years of war were drawing to a close, underneath the folds of this immortal banner sat Washington while Yorktown surrendered its hosts and our Revolutionary struggles ended with victory. Let us, then, twine each thread of the glorious tissue of our country's flag about our heartstrings; and looking upon our homes and catching the spirit that breathes upon us from the battle-fields of our fathers let us resolve, come weal or woe, we will, in life and in death, now and forever, stand by the Stars and Stripes. They have been unfurled from the snows of Canada to the plains of New Orleans, in the halls of the Montezumas and amid the solitude of every sea; and everywhere, as the luminous symbol of resistless and beneficent power, they have led the brave to victory and to glory. They have floated over our cradles; let it be our prayer and our struggle that they shall float over our graves. AND RECITATIONS. 247 COLUMBIA AND LIBERTY. ROBERT TREAT PAINE. YE sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought For those rights which, unstained, from your sires have descended, May you long taste the blessings your valor has bought, And your sons reap the soil which your fathers defended. 'Mid the reign of mild peace May your nation increase. With the glory of Eome and the wisdom of Greece ; And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its v/aves. In a clime whose rich vales feed the masts of the world, Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commotion, The trident of commerce shall never be hurled To increase the legitimate powers of the ocean. But should pirates invade, Though in thunder arrayed, Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade. For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway, Had justly ennobled our nation in story, Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young day, And enveloped the sun of American glory. But let traitors be told, Who their country have sold, And bartered their God for His image in gold, That ne'er will the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. 248 WERNER'S READINGS While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood, And society's base threats with wide dissolution; May peace, like the dove who returned from the flood, Find an ark of abode in our mild constitution. But, though peace is our aim, Yet the boon we disclaim, If bought by our sovereignty, justice, or fame; For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. "lis the fire of the flint each American warms; Let Eome's haughty victors beware of collision. Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms — We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division. While with patriot pride To our laws we're allied, No foe can subdue us, no faction divide; For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Our mountains are crowned with imperial oak, Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourished; But long ere our nation submits to the yoke, Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourished. Should invasion impend, Every grove would descend From the hill-tops they shaded, our shores to defend; For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Let our patriots destroy anarch's pestilent worm, Lest our liberty's growth be checked by corrosion; Then let clouds thicken round us — we heed not the storm, Our realm fears no shock but the earth's own explosion. Foes assail us in vain, Though their fleets bridge the main, AND RECITATIONS. 249 For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain; For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Should the tempest of war overshadow our land, Its bolts could ne'er rend freedom's temple asunder; For, unmoved, at its portal would Washington stand, And repulse with his breast the assaults of the thunder! His sword from the sleep Of its scabbard would leap, And conduct, with its point, every flash to the deep; For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. Let fame to the world sound America's voice; No intrigues can her sons from their government sever. Her pride are her statesmen; their laws are her choice, And shall flourish till liberty slumbers forever. Then unite heart and hand, Like Leonidas' band, And swear to the God of the ocean and land, That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. MY COUNTRY. GEORGE E. WOODBERRY. LOOK forth, Land, thy mountain-tops Glitter; look, the shadow drops; On the warder summits hoary Bursts the splendor- voiced story! Bound the crags of watching, rolled, The purple vales of heaven unfold, And far-shining ridges hang in air — Northward beam, and to the South thy promise bear. 250 WERNER'S READINGS Unto isle and headland sing it, O'er the misty midland fling it, From a hundred glorious peaks, the Appalachian gold ! O'er the valley of the thousand rivers, O'er the sea-horizoned lakes, Through heaven's wide gulf the marvelous fire quivers, Myriad-winged, and every dwindling star o'ertakes; On where earth's last ranges listen, Thunder-peaks that cloud the West; With the flashing signal waken; All the tameless Eockies own it — One great edge of sunrise glisten ; All the skied Sierras throne it ; And lone Shasta, high uplifted, O'er the snowy centuries drifted, Hears, and through his lands is splendor shaken From the morning's jewel in his crest! chosen Land God's hand Doth touch thy spires, And lights on all thy hills his rousing fires! beacon of the nations, lift thy head ; Firm be thy bases under Now thy earth might with heaven wed Beyond hell's hate to sunder! Land of promise, whom all eyes Have strained through time to see, Since poets, cradled in the skies, Flashed prophecy on thee ! J°y? j°y ! Thy destiny hath found thee ; Now the oceans brighten round thee ; To thy heaven-born fate ascending Thou, earth's darling! Thou, the yearning Of the last hope in her burning ! AND RECITATIONS. 251 Titan, crowner of the ages, Now the eagle seeks thy hand : Poets, statesmen, heroes, sages, In thy lustrous portals stand! Well may mount to mount declare thee, Ocean unto ocean sound thee, To the skies loud hymns upbear thee, Earth embrace, and heaven bound thee — God hath found thee, Through the world the tidings pour, And fill it o'er and o'er, As the wave of morning fills the long Atlantic shore. destined Land, unto thy citadel What founding fates even n*ow doth peace compel, That through the world thy name is sweet to tell! throned Freedom, unto thee is brought Empire; nor falsehood, nor blood payment asked Who never through deceit thy ends hast sought, Nor toiling millions for ambition tasked. For thou art founded in the eternal fact That every man doth greaten with the act Of freedom; and doth strengthen with the weight Of duty ; and diviner moulds his fate By sharp experience taught the thing he lacked, God's pupil; thy large maxim framed, though late, — Who masters best himself, best serves the state. Large-limbed they were, the pioneers; Cast in the iron mold that fate reveres. They could not help but frame the fabric well Who squared the stones for heaven's eye to tell; Who knew from old, and taught posterity That the true workman's only he who builds of God's necessity. 252 WERNER'S READINGS Land beloved ! My country ! dear, my own ! May the young heart that moved For the weak words atone. The mighty lyre not mine, nor the full breath of song, To happier sons shall these belong. My trembling reed's too frail To bear thee time's all-hail! Faint is my heart and ebbing with the passion of thy praise*, The poets come who cannot fail. Happy are they who sing thy perfect clays! All the hopes of mankind blending Earth awaking, heaven descending, While the new day steadfastly Domes the blue deeps over thee! Happy am I who see the vision splendid In the glowing of the dawn before me, All the grace of heaven blending Man arising, Christ descending, While God's hand, in secrecy, Builds thy bright eternity. NATIONAL HYMN. F. MARION CRAWFORD. HAIL, Freedom ! Thy bright crest And gleaming shield, thrice blest, Mirror the glories of a world thine own: Hail, heaven-born Peace! Our sight, Led by thy gentle light, Shows us thy paths with deathless flowers strewn. Peace, daughter of a strife sublime, Abide with us till strife be lost in endless time. AND RECITATIONS. 253 Her one hand seals with gold The portals of night's fold, Her other the broad gates of dawn unbars ; O'er silent wastes of snows, Crowning her lofty brows, Gleams high her diadem of Northern stars, While clothed in garlands of warm flowers Round Freedom's feet the South her wealth of beauty showers. Sweet is the toil of peace, Sweet the year's rich increase To loyal men who live by Freedom's laws; And in war's fierce alarms God gives stout hearts and arms To freemen sworn to save a rightful cause. Fear none, trust God, maintain the right, And triumph in unbroken union's peerless might. Welded in war's fierce flame Forged on the hearth of fame, The sacred Constitution was ordained ; Tried in the fire of time, Tempered in woes sublime, An age has passed and left it yet unstained. God grant its glories still may shine, While ages fade forgotten in time's slow decline! Honor the few who shared Freedom's first fight, and dared To face war's desperate tide at the full flood; Who fell on hard-won ground And into Freedom's wound Poured the sweet balsam of their brave hearts' blood. They fell, but o'er their glorious grave Floats free the banner of the cause they died to save. 254 WERNER'S READINGS In radiance heavenly fair Floats on the peaceful air That flag that never stooped from victory's pride; Those stars that softly gleam, Those stripes that o'er us stream, In war's grand agony were sanctified; A holy standard, pure and free, To light the home of peace, or blaze in victory. Father, whose mighty power Shields us through life's short hour, To thee we pray: Bless us and keep us free; All that is past forgive, Teach us henceforth to live, That through our country we may honor Thee; And when this mortal life shall cease Take Thou at last our souls to Thine eternal peace. THE CENTENNIAL OF 1876. "WILLIAM MAXWELL EVARTS. THE spirit of the nation is at the highest. Its triumph over the inborn, inbred perils of the Constitution has chased away all fears, justified all hopes, and with universal joy we greet this day. We have not proved unworthy of a great ancestry; we had the virtue to uphold what they so wisely, so firmly established. With these proud possessions of the past, with powers matured, with principles settled, with habits formed, the nation passes, as it were, from preparatory growth to responsible development of character and the steady performance of duty. What labors await it, what trials shall attend it, what triumphs for human nature, what glory for itself are prepared for this people in the coming century, we may not assume to foretell. " One generation passeth away and another generation cometh, but the earth abideth for- AND RECITATIONS. 255 ever;" and we reverently hope that these our constituted liberties shall be maintained to the unending line of our posterity, and so long as the earth itself shall endure. In the great procession of nations, in the great march of hu- manity, we hold our place. Peace is our duty, peace is our policy. In its arts, its labors, and its victories, then, we find scope for all our energies, rewards for all our ambitions, renown enough for all our love of fame. In the august presence of so many nations which, by their representatives, have done us the honor to be wit- nesses of our commemorative joy and gratulation, and in sight of the collective evidences of the greatness of their own civilization with which they grace our celebration, we may well confess how much we fall short, how much we have to make up in the emulative competitions of the times. Yet even in this presence, and with a just deference to the age, the power, the greatness of other na- tions of the earth, we do not fear to appeal to the opinion of man- kind whether, as we point to our land, our people, and our laws, the contemplation should not inspire us with a lover's enthusiasm for our country. THE TWO BANNERS OF AMERICA. HEERICK JOHNSON. IT makes the blood tingle and the cheeks glow to read how men have gone into battle under the inspiration of the "red, white and blue." It is enough to make the nation weep for joy, their devotion to the dear old flag; " Old Glory," they call it. I saw a young sergeant in the hospital at Fredericksburg. He was dying there with the " Stars and Stripes" about him. Arms, haver- sack, canteen, blanket, all were lost; but he had clung to "Old Glory." His lips moved; we stooped to listen. He was making his last charge : " Come on, boys ! our country and our flag for- ever;" and, wrapped in stars, he went up among the stars. Lift aloft, then, the "star-spangled banner." Unfurl it to the 256 WERNER'S READINGS breeze that every zephyr may kiss the sacred folds, red with the blood of God's heroes, white with God's justice, and blue with heaven's own azure. Bear it upward and onward, braves of a free people! until over the whole vast extent of liberty's soil shall again be seen " the gorgeous ensign of the Kepublic, once more full high advanced." I believe that God has made this whole land a cradle of liberty ; and is rocking, rocking it to and fro, to and fro, with omnipotent arms; and, as the nations hear the thunder of that rocking, we pray God that it may never cease till liberty shall need rocking no more in her cradle, but shall stand up, fair and young and strong — true liberty, liberty for the body and liberty for the soul, and shall walk as a queen through the land, the daughter of our Christianity, the nursling of God and America. Yet above the banner of the Constitution, above the banners of the American soldiers and sailors, above even the " Stars and Stripes," high over all, let us raise the banner of the cross, that we and the world may read its sacred motto: " Immanuel — God with us." And then, with the mystic cords of memory stretching from every battle-field and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth- stone over all this broad land, swelling again the chorus of the Union, we shall go on, giving light to the nations and liberty to man and honor to God ! DANGERS TO OUR REPUBLIC. HORACE MANN. WHO are this host of voters crowding to use the freeman's right at the ballot-box? In all the dread catalogue of mor- tal sins there is not one but, in that host, there are hearts which have willed and hands which have perpetrated it. The gallows has spared its victims; the prison has released its tenants; from dark cells where malice had brooded, where revenge and robbery had held their nightly rehearsals, the leprous multitude is dis- AND RECITATIONS. 257 gorged, and comes up to the ballot-box to foredoom the destinies of this nation. But look again at that deep and dense array of ignorance, whose limits the eye cannot discover. Its van leans against us here, its rear is behind the distant hills. They, too, in this hour of their country's peril, have come up to turn the folly of which they are not conscious into measures which they cannot understand, by votes which they cannot read. Nay, more and worse! For from the ranks of crime, emissaries are sallying forth toward the ranks of ignorauce, shouting the war-cries of faction, and flaunt- ing banners with lying symbols, such as cheat the eye of a mind- less brain ; and thus the hosts of crime are to lead on the hosts of ignorance in their assault upon liberty and law! What, now, shall be done to save the citadel of freedom, where are treasured all the hopes of posterity? Or, if we can survive the peril of such a day, what shall be done to prevent the next genera- tion from sending forth still more numerous hordes, afflicted with deeper blindness and incited by darker depravity? Are there any here who would counsel us to save the people from themselves by wresting from their hands this formidable right of ballot? Better for the man who would propose this remedy to an infuriated multi- tude, that he should stand in the lightning's path as it descends from heaven to earth. And answer me this question, you who would re-conquer for the few the power which has been won by the many — you who would disfranchise the common mass of mankind, and recondemn them to helots, and bondmen, and feudal serfs, — tell me, were they again in the power of your castles, would you not again neglect them, again oppose them, again make them slaves? Better that these blind Samsons, in the wantonness of their gi- gantic strength, should tear down the pillars of the Eepublic, than that the great lesson which heaven, for six thousand years, has been teaching to the world, should be lost upon it — the lesson that the intellectual and moral nature of man is the one thing pre- cious in the sight of God, and, therefore, that until this nature is 17 258 WERNER'S READINGS cultivated and enlightened and purified, neither opulence nor power nor learning nor genius nor domestic sanctity nor the holi- ness of God's altars can ever be safe. Until the immortal and god- like capacities of every being that comes into the world are deemed more worthy, are watched more tenderly, than any other things, no dynasty of men or form of government can stand or shall stand upon the face of the earth ; and the force or the fraud which would seek to uphold them shall be but " as fetters of flax to bind the flame." COLUMBIA'S EMBLEM. EDNA DEAN PROCTOR. [I am much interested to have our stately, beautiful, indigenous grain — the Maize, Indian corn — adopted as the emblem of America. — Edna Dean Proctor.] BLAZEN Columbia's emblem, The bounteous, golden Corn! Eons ago, of the great sun's glow And the joy of the earth, 'twas born. From Superior's shore to Chili, From the ocean of dawn to the west, With its banners of green and tasselled sheen, It sprang at the sun's behest; And by dew and shower, from its natal hour, With honey and wine 'twas fed, Till the gods were fain to share with men The perfect feast outspread. For the rarest boon to the land they loved Was the Corn so rich and fair, Nor star nor breeze o'er the farthest seas Could find its like elsewhere. AND RECITATIONS. 259 In their holiest temples the Incas Offered the heaven-sent Maize — Grains wrought of gold, in a silver fold, For the sun's enraptured gaze; And its harvest came to the wandering tribes As the gods' own gift and seal; And Montezuma's festal bread Was made of its sacred meal. Narrow their cherished fields; but ours Are broad as the continent's breast, And, lavish as leaves and flowers, the sheaves Bring plenty and joy and rest. For they strew the plains and crowd the wains When the reapers meet at morn, Till blithe cheers ring and west winds sing A song for the garnered Corn. The rose may bloom for England, The lily for France unfold ; Ireland may honor the shamrock, Scotland her thistle bold; But the shield of the great Republic, The glory of the West, Shall bear a stalk of the tasselled Corn, Of all our wealth the best. The arbutus and the golden-rod The heart of the North may cheer, And the mountain-laurel for Maryland Its royal clusters rear; And jasmine and magnolia The crest of the South adorn; But the wide Republic's emblem Is the bounteous, golden Corn ! 260 WERNER'S READINGS THE MEANING OF THE FOUR CENTURIES. THE spectacle America presents this day is without precedent in history. From ocean to ocean, in city, village and country- side, the children of the states are marshalled and marching under the banner of the nation, and with them the people are gathering around the school-house. Men are recognizing to-day the most impressive anniversary since Eome celebrated her thousandth year —the four hundredth anniversary of the stepping of a hemisphere into the world's life; four completed centuries of a new social order ; the celebration of liberty and enlightenment organized into a civilization. And while, during these hours, the Federal Govern- ment of these United States strikes the key-note of this great American day that gives honor to the common American institution which unites us all, we assemble here that we, too, may exalt the free school that embodies the American principle of universal en- lightenment and equality; the most characteristic product of the four centuries of American life. Four hundred years ago this morning, the Pinta's gun broke the silence, and announced the discovery of this hemisphere. It was a virgin world. Human life hitherto upon it had been without sig- nificance. In the Old World for thousands of years civilized men had been trying experiments in social order. They had been found wanting. But here was an untouched soil that lay ready for a neAV experiment in civilization. All things were ready. New forces had come to light full of overturning power in the Old World. In the New World they were to work together with a mighty - harmony. It was for Columbus, propelled by this fresh life, to re- veal the land where these new forces were to be given space for de- velopment, and where the awaited trial of the new civilization was to be made. To-day we reach our most memorable mile-stone. We look back- ward and we look forward . Backward, we see the first mustering of modern ideas; their long conflict with Old-World theories, which AND RECITATIONS. 261 were also transported hither. We see stalwart men and brave women, one moment on the shore, then disappearing in dim for- ests. We hear the axe. We see the flame of burning cabins and hear the cry of the savage. We see the never-ceasing wagon trains, always toiling westward. We behold log-cabins becoming villages, then cities. We watch the growth of institutions out of little beginnings — schools becoming an educational system; meeting- houses leading into organic Christianity; town meetings growing to political movements; county discussions developing federal gov- ernments. We see hardy men with intense convictions, grappling, struggling, often amid battle-smoke, and some idea characteristic of the New World always triumphing. We see settlements knitting together into a nation with singleness of purpose. We note the birth of the modern system of industry and commerce, and its strik- ing forth into undreamed-of wealth, making the millions mem- bers one of another as sentiment could never bind. And under it all, and through it all, we fasten on certain principles, ever operating and regnant — the leadership of manhood ; equal rights for every soul ; universal enlightenment as the source of progress. These last are the principles that have shaped America; these principles are the true Americanism. We look forward. We are conscious that we are in a period cf transition. Ideas in education, in political economy, in social science are undergoing revisions. There is a large uncertainty about the outcome. Bat faith in the underlying principles of Americanism and in God's destiny for the Eepublic makes a firm ground of hope. The coming century promises to be more than ever the age of the people; an age that shall develop a greater care for the rights of the weak, and make a more solid provision for the development of each individual by the education that meets his need. As no prophet among our fathers on the three hundredth anniversary of America could have pictured what the new century wy;,id do, so no man can this day reach out and grasp the hundred upon which the nation is now entering. On the victorious its of the completed centuries the principles of Americanism 262 WERNER'S READINGS will build our fifth century. Its material j)rogress is beyond our conception, but we may be sure that in the social relations of men with men the most triumphant gains are to be expected. America's fourth century has been glorious ; America's fifth century must be made happy. One institution more than any other has wrought out the achievements of the past, and is to-day the most trusted for the future. Our fathers in their wisdom knew that the foundations of liberty, fraternity and equality must be universal education. The free school, therefore, was conceived the cornerstone of the Republic. Washington .and Jefferson recognized that the education of citizens is not the prerogative of church or of other private inter- ests; that while religious training belongs to the church, and while technical and higher culture may be given by private institutions, the training of citizens in the common knowledge and in the common duties of citizenship belongs irrevocably to the state. We, there- fore, on this anniversary of America present the public school as the noblest expression of the principle of enlightenment which Columbus grasped by faith. We uplift the system of free and uni- versal education as the master force which, under God, has been informing each of our generations with the peculiar truths of Americanism. America, therefore, gathers her sons around the school-house to-day as the institution closest to the people, most characteristic of the people, and fullest of hope for the people. To-day America's fifth century begins. The world's twentieth century will soon be here. To the thirteen millions now in the American schools the command of the coming years belongs. We, the youth of America, who to-day unite to march as one army under the sacred flag, understand our duty. We pledge ourselves that the flag shall not be stained, and that America shall mean equal opportunity and justice for every citizen, and brotherhood for the world. MOLLY'S PRENUPTIAL FLIRTATION ILLUSTRATED SOCIETY MONOLOGUE, WITH FULL DIRECTIONS FOR RECITING Can be Given by Woman in Costume (including Wedding Gown), or as a Burlesque by a Man Wearing Woman's Hat, Muff, Wedding-veil, etc. POEMS By GEORGE A. BAKER POstiS AND DIRECTIONS FOR RECITING By COZETTE KELLER In four scenes, so arranged that either one scene only, or all four scenes, may be given. Scene I. — His Version of the Flirtation. Scene II. — Her Version of the Flirtation. Scene III. — She Breaks the News to Him of Her Engagement to the Other Man. Scene IV. — Her Observations at Her Church Wedding. 13 Full-figure Costume Illustrations from Life Printed on Enameled Paper 9JX 12 inches. Most Artistic Leaflet $1.00 net, Sent Postpaid on Receipt of Price ADDRESS THE PUBLISHERS EDGAR 5. WERNER & CO. 43 East 19th Street, New York A Text-Book for Re- quirements of 20th Century Elocution : [ • - i j [locJ; ";Cs -* ON ■ ! c -J I Used by many of the Leading Schools in English -Spea.king America EL0CUT10 AND ACTION BY F. Townsend Scmthwic Lessons are in sequential order and furni a TR.UE EVOLUTION OF EXPRESS!* Book gives an up-to-date method of teaching expressior of training body and voice to express whatever thoughts i within the person to express. No book equals this in i ciseness, comprehensiveness, directness, — iu being representative of the "new elocution," in ccntradistil tion to the eld, artificial, superficial, mechanical elocutlj Complete in itself and makes another book uanecessl Recitations for Practice in Connection with the Lessol "Adams and Jefferson," "Against Whipping in the Navy," "Alexander Ypsilanti," "Battl Naseby," " Bells of Shandon," "Brutus on the Death of Caesar," "Chambered Nautil " Charge of the Light Brigade," " Christmas Party at Scrooge's Nephew's," " Dedication Gettysburg Cemetery," "Discontented Pendulum," "Duel," "Echo and the Ferry,' Descensus," "Fox at the Point of Death," "Hamlet's Instruction to the Players," Riel," "Incident of the French Camp," "Langley Lane," "Leper," "Little Stowaway in the Moon," "Marmion and Douglas," "Mice at Play," "Mont Blanc Before Sunrise," "O of Roast Pig," "Owl and the Bell," "Owl Critic," "Palmer's Vision." "Plain Tale of i "Portia's Speech on Mercy." "Prodigal Son," "Reading for the Thought," "Scene from 'J Caesar,'" "Scene from ' The Rivals,'" " Star Spangled Banner," "Supporting the Gu "Sweet and Low," "Sympathy with uhe Greeks," "Selection from 'A Tramp Abroad,'" "Tw© Third Psalm," "Two Views of Christmas," "Wind and the Moon." Also Other Selections "Americanism," "Destruction of Sennacherib," "Forging of the Anchor," "France and Rocrij beau," "Fugitives," "Good Courage," "Great Schools of the World," "Hand-Car 412." "HI ing Song," "If Mother Would Listen." "I'm With You Once Agr.in," "Issues of the TransI Question." "Liberty," "Lilies at Queens' Gardens," "March of Company A," ''Mince Pil ' Old Flag." "Other Side of the Case," "Plea for Cuban Liberty," "Religion of Trooper PJ Halket," "Rome and Carthage." "Sermon on the Mount," "Shylock to Antonio," "Song of Chattahoochee," "Speech of Black Hawk," "Sultan's Career," "Tea-kettle and the Cricl " Whip-Poor- Will," "William McKinley," "You Never Can Tell." WELL PRINTED AND BOUND IN CLOTH, $1.25, N5T ADDRESS ALL ORDERS TO EDGAR S. WERNER & CO. 43 East 1 9th St , New York