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THE GLEN: 
 
 a STOK\' OF THE MIUTH. 
 
 BY 
 
 T. B. MORTON. ^^^^^ , 
 
 1806. 
 
 k^^-^^^J* 
 
memory, as it was before the war, it is 
 a typical Southern village of that time. 
 Its adjacent plantations presented scenes 
 in the cotton picking season, and at 
 other times, that give pleasure to look 
 back upon across the years that have 
 intervened. The writing of the story 
 has, for this reason, been to him a 
 pleasant task. Unpretentious though 
 it is, it has been the work of many of 
 his best moments, extending over a pe- 
 riod of three years of his life ; and no 
 lady ever lingered over a mirror adding 
 the finishing touches to her beauty as 
 he has lingered over its stanzas in an 
 effort to polish them. He has done 
 what he could to make this booklet 
 worthy of being both a welcome guest 
 in every Southern home and a visitor 
 that should neither be offensive nor un- 
 welcome in any home elsewhere in 
 America. 
 
 Thomas Bottomley Morton. 
 Camden, Ark., Nov. 1, 1896. 
 
THE GLEN: 
 
 A STORY OF THE SOUTH. 
 
 The dew was sparkling on the grass,. 
 
 Along the path to school. 
 Where Maggie, going, had to pass 
 
 Her sweet -heart. Johnny Fool. 
 
 'With eyes downcast, he did not see 
 
 The path obstructed sight 
 Till Maggie called out, • 'Johnny P ! " 
 Which stopped him in a fright. 
 
 The grass was high on either side. 
 
 And wet with heavy dew : 
 The path[.iust there was not full wide 
 
 For passing rt)om for two. 
 
 Where they were meeting was a spot 
 
 Of low and fertile soil. 
 Where rank luxuriousness owed not 
 
 Its growth to human toil . 
 
 A little further on, or back. 
 The path was beaten w^de, 
 
 Where room young lovers did not lack 
 When walking side by side. 
 
But Johnny turned, and Mag^^ie knew 
 That he was backward bound ; 
 
 Said she, ''Come on. there's room for 
 two. 
 For I will square around. ' ' 
 
 Then, suiting action to the word, 
 She turned and inward faced ; 
 
 * 'I think, ' ' said she, ' ' 'twould be ab- 
 surds ., 
 To have your stex)s retraced. 
 
 Your shoes with dew you need not wet. 
 
 Nor push me in the grass ; 
 But sidewise turn, face me, and get 
 
 Right close, and we can pass. ' ' 
 
 Thus reassured, he onward came 
 Quite close to Maggie's side; 
 
 Then turned he sidewise with the aim 
 Of passing, and — he tried. 
 
 But Maggie's lips, in easy reach, 
 Looked tempting as could be; 
 
 Her cheeks were colors of the peach — 
 And Johnny ' s eyes could see . 
 
 His head a forward lurch he gave. 
 
 His lips did Maggie's meet. 
 Then he, Miss Maggie's scorn to save, 
 
 Betook him to his feet. 
 
 But soon desire the girl to see 
 
 His fleeing footsteps stayed ; 
 He turned, and timidly did he 
 
 His eves throw on the maid. 
 
l-'l 
 
 The gathering storm in Maggie's face 
 
 A dire' event portrayed ; 
 With Johnny's courage out of place. 
 
 The lad was sore afraid . 
 
 ' 'How dare ! " ' said she with snapping 
 eyes. 
 
 • "You touch your lips to mine?' ' 
 ' 'I did not dare. " ' said Johnny, wi«e 
 
 In Cu])ids art divine: 
 
 ' 'I only meant to pass you by. 
 
 But when I got so near, 
 A glance from out each drooping eye 
 
 Fell on your lips so dear . 
 
 Between those eye -kissed berries came 
 A breath that was so sweet — 
 
 The fumes of wine to it were tame — 
 My senses lost their feet. 
 
 Why, Maggie, I was dazed; in you 
 
 The cause of it is found . 
 If this you did not wish me do. 
 
 Why did ^-ou square around ? ' ' 
 
 Ingenious though this speech, it first 
 
 W^ith halting words began, 
 But rising courage fears dispersed, 
 
 And then it smoothiy ran. 
 
 And then, at first, a bashful glance 
 On Maggie he would throw : 
 
 But courage gave each glance a chance 
 From glance to look to grow. 
 
With Magt^ie this was all reversed ; 
 
 Her face, with clouds oerspread, 
 Portended that there ' d break at first 
 
 A storm upon his head . 
 
 But one b}^ one the clouds passed by, 
 
 Succeeded each by roses, 
 Which woo the snapping- from the eye 
 
 That rougher mood discloses. 
 
 And when, by saucy taunt accused, 
 She stood with eyes downcast. 
 
 Her cheeks with blushes all suffused. 
 The storm, he saw, was past. 
 
 And he approached her side again, 
 
 And took her hand so fair ; 
 And low, soft words between them then 
 
 Broke on the morning air . 
 
 The words he said and her rei)ly 
 
 The tiny dew drops heard ; 
 So, too, the grass with blades so high. 
 
 But neither told a word . 
 
 But those in answer she did say 
 
 Made joy in him abound ; 
 And long did Johnny bless the day 
 
 When Maggie squared around. 
 
 The days that passed to years soon grew ; 
 
 And two had quickly sped 
 Since, witnessed by the grass and dew, 
 
 Thej'd pledged their troth to wed. 
 
And Jdliiiiiy Pool an ag-e was now 
 When one more year would kee 
 
 The sig-net- stamp upon his brow 
 That marks majority. 
 
 The years of Maggie? Ke}', eighteen, 
 
 Oft had the tribute paid 
 That finer w^ork was never seen 
 
 Than showed forth in the maid. 
 
 However tested, by the lines 
 That mark a beauteous face. 
 
 ( )r by the soul that through it shines 
 And gives to beauty grace. 
 
 Would Maggie measure full and well : 
 
 A face so pure and sweet, 
 A soul to light it up and tell 
 
 Where noble traits did meet . 
 
 Throughout the village it was known 
 That Love, with skill divine, 
 
 Around each heart a w^eb had thrown 
 Wliich did the other twine. 
 
 Together they in village walks 
 
 And gatherings were seen. 
 Together paired they off for talks 
 
 Themselves alone between. 
 
 In that enchanted realm they dwelt 
 That gives this wond'rous cheer: 
 
 In person though apart, each felt 
 The other one was near. 
 
And thus it was when to the tow^n 
 Came mutt 'rings from afar, 
 
 And threatenings that War ' s dark frown 
 Would dim fair Peace ' s star . 
 
 The village was 'neath Southern skies 
 Where bloomed the Southern bloom. 
 
 Which all the air, as daylight dies, 
 Lades sweetly with perfume. 
 
 Around it grew, to toil delight, 
 The plant that makes the boll. 
 
 Whose staple dressed the fields in white 
 And gave to trade its soul . 
 
 By dusky slaves who knew not care 
 These fertile fields were tilled ; 
 
 They toiled not for the morrow's fare. 
 But worked as masters willed. 
 
 Oft at the close of summer days 
 
 Their melody so rare. 
 Through simple and uncultured lays. 
 
 Would fill the ev'ning air. 
 
 And oft at night their nimble feet. 
 Which waited but for chance, 
 
 Till da}' approaching day did meet 
 Would reel it in the dance. 
 
 A simple, child -like race were thej^ 
 
 Dependent, docile, kind. 
 Their highest virtue to obey 
 
 A higher type of mind. 
 
1?1 
 
 Who years before from Afric"s land, 
 
 To please a greed for gold, 
 Were brought by cruel, heartless hand. 
 
 And into surf dom sold . 
 
 And those who think that wrong works 
 right 
 
 As good ma}' be the end. 
 Now, looking through historic light, 
 
 Must be their owner's friend. 
 
 To moral death in Afric bound, 
 
 To mental progress blind, 
 Belease from these they here had found. 
 
 And birth of heart and mind. 
 
 Their masters saw. with watchful care. 
 
 That wants were all supplied ; 
 For who would e ' en mistreatment dare, 
 
 When loss would sure betide ? 
 
 A sentiment in Northern mind. 
 On wrong conceptions based, 
 
 The South, by charges most unkind, 
 In false position i:>laeed. 
 
 Throughout the North this feeling grew, 
 
 Intolerant and blind: 
 The Ecok of Books itself untrue. 
 
 If it to slav'ry kind. 
 
 But how or why the conflict came 
 ' Twere needless now to tell : 
 
 Each side tlie other charged with blame, 
 On each, perhaps, it fell. 
 
Excitement in the South rnn high, 
 • And calls to arms were made ; 
 Peace raised her voice with feeble cry. 
 From thunder War ' s had aid . 
 
 The voice of War on Johnny ' s ear 
 
 With dreadful import fell : 
 The voice of Peace, while to him dear. 
 
 Of honor seemed the knell . 
 
 He loved the land that gave him l)i'"th, 
 
 The land of sunny skies. 
 The land that bound him to this earth 
 
 In sweet and tender ties. 
 
 And now this land should ne^-er call 
 
 In vain on him for aid : 
 The land that gave to him his all. 
 
 With all should be repaid. 
 
 But with these feelings, crimson Imed, 
 
 Came those of paler shade, 
 To cause the flush of fiery mood 
 
 To lil.y ' s hue to fade . 
 
 When borne an image in the heart 
 
 Sculptured by Love divine, 
 The sculptor prompts us not to part 
 
 With model for design. 
 
 And Johnny Maggie's image bore. 
 
 And still the figure grew ; 
 The sculptor touched it o ' er and o ' er 
 
 As Ma2-2-ie more he knew. 
 
To think of parting, now, how sad. 
 From Maggie, sweet and true ! 
 
 In camp who would his heart make 
 glad? 
 His better self renew? 
 
 And then he, too. of Maggie thought; 
 
 How lonely and how sad 
 Would be her lot ! Could he do ought 
 
 To make her life less glad? 
 
 And as these thoughts subdued the fire 
 
 Of fervor in his soul, 
 To stay within him rose desire. 
 
 Contending for control . 
 
 His love of country might have lost 
 
 And love of Maggie won 
 If from each side they had not crossed, 
 
 But each apart had run. 
 
 When colors blending lose their shade 
 
 And make a color new, 
 There is no loss, far as the.y fade 
 
 Come tints of softer hue. 
 
 Thus love of country lent its aid 
 
 To make him her adore ; 
 And love of Maggie only made 
 
 Him love his country more. 
 
 And Maggie, though of softer mold. 
 
 Was to her country true : 
 She, too, had heard its wrongs oft told, 
 
 Its historv she knew . 
 
[10] 
 
 The story of the slaves she knew ; 
 
 And oft, Ah, tender care ! 
 When fevered blood their veins ran 
 through, 
 
 They'd felt her hand so fair. 
 
 She'd heard the old plantation songs, 
 She'd seen the nimble dance, 
 
 She ' d seen afield the dusky throngs 
 When fields did sight entrance. 
 
 She'd seen a space grow dark and wide, 
 
 By suple fingers made, 
 Had witnessed many signs of pride 
 
 When weed -robbed fleece was weigh- 
 ed. 
 
 Her home was an enchanted spot, 
 
 A fleecy field anear. 
 With stately trees on spacious plot, 
 
 And each to her was dear. 
 
 Within this plot in door-yard grew 
 
 Magnolias here and there. 
 And flowers bloomed of every hue 
 
 To scent the summer air. 
 
 Back from the house a shady street. 
 
 The ' 'quarters' " on each side, 
 Led further to a chapel neat 
 
 Where Grod was glorified . 
 
 And from the quarters roadways led 
 
 To stables and to fields. 
 To house of him of whom the dread 
 
 Made tillage swell the yields. 
 
These the surroundings, in her home 
 
 Dwelt many a gentle guest ; 
 No fitful stay nor far off roam 
 
 Inharmony t ' attest . 
 
 Love and Love's companions they, 
 
 Inseparable all : 
 The chief vras Love, whom to obey 
 
 Was but to hear his call . 
 
 Within that home her father dwelt, 
 
 Her mother, pure and fair. 
 At lap of whom she oft had knelt 
 
 To say her evning prayer. 
 
 Two younger sisters and a brother, 
 
 Younger still, were all 
 The other members, if another, 
 
 A portrait on the wall, 
 
 A picture of a fair -faced boy. 
 
 In bo^diood laid forest, 
 His father's pride, his mother's joy, 
 
 Their oldest and loved best. 
 
 Should not be named, for day by day 
 They called some prattling word, 
 
 Saw ruddy cheeks and artless play, 
 And noisy foot -steps heard. 
 
 But, to return to Johnny now 
 And Maggie Kej^ once more. 
 
 Full oft had they with thoughtful brow 
 The war talked o " er and o ' er . 
 
[12] 
 
 When Johnny told her that his life 
 He ' d risk the South to serve 
 
 And join its host in doubtful strife, 
 She had no heart to swerve. 
 
 His purpose from such lofty aim. 
 Though great with peril fraught ; 
 
 The fire of patriotic flame 
 
 She. too, from him had caught. 
 
 The time had come for tear and sob, 
 For marching on the morrow ; 
 
 For love of country could not rob 
 The parting of its sorrow. 
 
 One ev'ning more to them was left. 
 
 One ev'ning more of bliss, 
 Before they each should be bereft — 
 
 Should long each other miss. 
 
 He early took the walk well-known, 
 And paused before the gate : 
 
 Bright over head a half moon shown 
 In pomp of regal state . 
 
 No breeze the halfgrown leaves bestirred 
 To dance the moonbeam's peep. 
 
 From leafy branch a mocking bird 
 Was singing night to sleep, 
 
 The air sweet scented bore a voice, 
 
 Soft -keyed in tender song; 
 The mocking bird heard to rejoice 
 
 And for its notes to long. 
 
The notes were soft, but full and clear 
 
 The words rose on the air, 
 To Johnny it was doubly dear, 
 
 This song- of one so fair. 
 
 For then he thought of Roderick Dhu 
 When Ellen ' s voice so sweet , 
 
 Unknown to her, he heard and knew 
 He ne ' er could Ellen meet . 
 
 This meeting Johnny knew the last 
 For months, perhaps for aye. 
 
 But hope was not behind him cast. 
 Like Dhu" 8 at Helen's lay. 
 
 The song was hushed, with list ' ning ear 
 
 The singer waited now. 
 The gate latch click again to hear, 
 
 Hope's smile upon her brow. 
 
 ' 'Click, ■ ■ went the latch, and on the 
 walk 
 
 Were well-known footsteps heard; 
 Then, pleasant greetings o'er, their talk 
 
 Had many a lo^dng word. 
 
 ' 'Oft have you sought this (lien, " ' said 
 In mock-heroic vein, [sht>, 
 
 ' 'And oft will come again, ' ' said he, 
 ' 'If in it you remain. " ' 
 
 ' 'But hear me through, Sir Knight, I 
 mean 
 
 That you have come in Peace, 
 The olive branch the gentle Queen 
 
 Has swaA'ed without release ; 
 
L14J 
 
 But when j'ou come again, dread Mars 
 
 Will in her place be found. 
 Your shoulders may be tipped with bars. 
 
 Your head with honors crowned. 
 
 When thus you come from tented fields 
 
 Your home to see again, 
 When all the town its homage yields. 
 
 How then about this G-len?' ' 
 
 ' 'My Lady of the Glen, ' " said he. 
 
 Come woe to me or weal. 
 Let come what may, this Glen to me 
 
 Will be my land of leal . 
 
 I go not forth with warrior might 
 
 To w4n the bauble fame, 
 Nor high on honor " s roll to write 
 
 The glory of my name. 
 
 To bear an humble part I go, 
 My country's w^'ongs to right, 
 
 To meet on battle field the foe 
 And help to win the fight. 
 
 1 hope no coward's part to play, 
 
 I hope to do and dare, 
 And shall not ask for easy way. 
 
 But hardships all will bear. 
 
 If honors come for duty done. 
 
 As come I hope they will, 
 To crown my head, there w^ill be none 
 
 That mv one head shall fill : 
 
If I, my Lady, am Sir Kiiij<lit. 
 
 You are the Lady fair 
 To nerve his arm to deeds of might, 
 
 And shall his honors share. 
 
 Some roses Johnny loved to see. 
 
 The roses in her cheek. 
 As, with the dimples in a glee. 
 
 They played at hide and seek . 
 
 And, with them playing there, she said. 
 
 ' "I own your greater vskill, 
 In playful use of words I ' m led 
 
 A captive at your will. 
 
 And now. Sir Knight, in mood less 
 light, 
 I dread the flow of hlood 
 Which soon will come, with death to 
 blight. 
 With sadness homes to flood. 
 
 And on the field of carnage you 
 
 A victim, too. may fall. 
 Your mother's ej^es with tears 1o dew. 
 
 Her heart with gloom to pall. 
 
 Oh ! that our Southern rights had l)een 
 
 Without this war ol)tained 1 
 How less would be the cause for sin. 
 
 How great the pleasure gained ! ' ' 
 
 • -Yes, Maggie, it is true m,y life 
 
 May go out on the field. 
 And then afar from fields of strife 
 
 It may to hardships yield ; 
 
[10] 
 
 But, Maggie, there's a God on high 
 Who notes the sparrow's fall, 
 
 From Sorrow ' s lips goes not a sigh 
 He does not hear its call . 
 
 And mother knows what courts to tread 
 This gracious Lord to meet ; 
 
 In them with loving hand she ' s led 
 Full oft my erring feet . 
 
 And, whatsoe'er betides me here, 
 
 I hope, in courts above, 
 To see again my mother dear. 
 
 And all whom here I love. ' ' 
 
 Then, in a tone of lighter vein, 
 
 Said he, to clear her brow, 
 ' 'Although I hope that home to gain 
 
 At last. I want not now 
 
 This happy life to leave behind. 
 
 This heaven in this Glen, 
 And ere I go, a way I'll find 
 
 To visit it again . ' ' 
 
 •'Oh. liush ! " ' said she. '-your o'er- 
 full praise, 
 
 Too easily it finds 
 Its way into my ears, and plays 
 
 Sweet music while it binds 
 
 My heart a captive Ijy its charms, 
 While from its chamber rushes 
 
 A crimson flood, to spread alarms 
 In many tell-tale blushes, — 
 
[17] 
 
 Alarms lest priBoned thoughts get out, 
 
 Lest secrets be revealed. 
 Alarms that tell, beyond a doubt. 
 
 The things they " d kee]) concealed . ' ' 
 
 How sweet she looked : Ah ! Johnny 
 knevv' 
 
 Just how her cheeks to shade, 
 While Cupid, ever busy, drew 
 
 A picture of the maid. 
 
 And oft ill camp, on inarch and field, 
 
 This picture of his Queen 
 Caused many a care to joy to yield. 
 
 In Cupid's Album seen. 
 
 The night is past, the parting s o'er, 
 Times flies with leaden wing, 
 
 And Maggie ' s heart is tuned no more 
 Her happy songs to sing. 
 
 Oft from the field came rumors dread 
 
 Of blood}'' battles fought. 
 Where Yv^ar, in strewing with the dead, 
 
 Its horrid work had wrought. 
 
 The mails, slow -going, traveled far 
 On horse- back and by stage; 
 
 Steam lent some aid by railway car. 
 And 'twas the steamboat age. 
 
 The telegraph and iron track 
 
 Connected not the town 
 With all world ; of news this lack 
 
 Did inc(mvenience crown. 
 
[18] 
 
 What welcome, though, did mails re- 
 ceive 
 
 By being long dela^'ed ! 
 What fears did news wdiengood relieve, 
 
 When had, wdiat cares it made I 
 
 In battles fought full many a lad, 
 His mother ' s pride and joy. 
 
 Had fallen, and the mother sad 
 Was w^eeping for her boy. 
 
 And Johnny oft where lurking death 
 
 In leaden bullets flew. 
 To steal away a comrade's breath, 
 
 A comrade brave and true, 
 
 Had been the foremost in the ranks 
 
 Of those upon his side. 
 And all the mad, death -dealing pranks 
 
 Of war he had defied. 
 
 For gallantry from grade to grade 
 
 Promotion up had led. 
 Till private Johnny Pool was made 
 
 A Cax)tain Pool instead . 
 
 And thus it was when Franklin ' s day 
 On Hood and Cleburne dawned, 
 
 Where Carnage, surfeited with sway. 
 In weary languor yawned. 
 
 Within the Harpeth's bend, the town 
 
 Was bounded by the stream 
 On two sides, and the cannon " s frown 
 
 Did from the others gleam. 
 
[19J 
 
 Within his works safe Schofield lay 
 From belching guns of seige, 
 
 To non-combatants in their way 
 Hood gave a loyal lie^ge. 
 
 The lengthening shadows eastward fell 
 When Hood, with flags nnfnrled. 
 
 His lines, the foeman's strength to tell , 
 Upon the trenches hurled 
 
 With nerve of steel and heart of fire 
 And gallant step they inarched ; 
 
 Portent of coming conflict dire 
 No lips with terror parched. 
 
 Against the ramparts on they went, 
 
 Behind which lay the foe. 
 Volcanic fires within them pent 
 
 To death -armed lava throw. 
 
 Said Schofield. -'Fire!'" The stern 
 command 
 
 Went all the ramparts round ; 
 A blaze of light illumed the land, 
 
 And thunder shook the ground. 
 
 The moving columns halted not, 
 But closed their gaping ranks : 
 
 All else but victory forgot. 
 
 And a country's grateful thanks. 
 
 Now peal on peal the cannon roared, 
 On, on, Hood's lines advanced, 
 
 Bang, bang, and shot from guns less 
 bored 
 The havoc thrice enhanced. 
 
[20] 
 
 Against that flow of leaden hail 
 The shortening lines moved on, 
 
 The brave survivors knew not ''fail'^ 
 With half their nnmber gone. 
 
 But as each line the ramparts neared 
 The bristling works to mount, 
 
 The number left too few appeared 
 In closing fight to count. 
 
 Thus charge on charge, from four at eve 
 
 Till night had lit the stars, 
 The Southrons made, to loss retrieve 
 
 And favor turn of Mars. 
 
 Nor all in vain their gallant fight. 
 
 To foes a dreadful cost. 
 Who, ere the time marked twelve at 
 night. 
 
 In flight the Harpeth crossed. 
 
 Ah ! factory, full dearly won, 
 
 How ghastly was thy field ! 
 For thee how many a Southern son 
 
 His life did nobly yield ! 
 
 Alas, with many didst thou leave 
 
 Mementos of thy care, 
 The outer badge an empty sleeve. 
 
 Through coming years to vrear ! 
 
 How many a foot that once did run 
 
 By love on errands urged, 
 Long ere its mate, its life -w^ork done, 
 
 For thee had requiem dirged ! 
 
[21] 
 
 How many weeds of widowhood 
 Grew up from out thy blood I 
 
 How much thy hero ' s daring deeds 
 The South with woes did flijod' f 
 
 But, looking back across the years. 
 
 The father, mother, son. 
 Wife, sister, daugter. through their 
 tears, 
 
 All say, ' 'Brave hearts, well done; 
 
 Though lost the cause for which you 
 fought, 
 
 The heritage you gave. 
 Deep -dyed in blood, and dear Jy bought, 
 
 Leaves naught for us to crave . ' ' 
 
 Ghastly and white bj^ torches ' }}^ht 
 
 The dead lay cold and still, 
 And Sorrow looked on the pitiful sight 
 
 Of the wounded and drank her fill. 
 
 Near by where gallant Cleburn fell. 
 The earth -works for his bed, 
 
 Lay Captain Pool with wound to swell 
 The list of Southern dead , 
 
 If it as comrades all did say. 
 For thus the wound appeared ; 
 
 And life long hovered in the way 
 Where death its border neared. 
 
 But ere that fatal Franklin ' s day 
 
 The village where the bluff 
 And yalley met on river ' s waj^ 
 
 Had many changes rough'. 
 
[22] 
 
 Soon after it had given up 
 
 Its chivalry and pride, 
 Those left behind began the cui) 
 
 To drink from sorrov^^ ' s side . 
 
 In many of the battles fought 
 Some had their loved ones slain ; 
 
 By pestilence destruction wrought 
 To fill their hearts with pain. 
 
 And soon they saw. to add to woes, 
 The Northern lines extending, 
 
 The South ' s, begirt by skillful foes, 
 Contracted, homes defending. 
 
 The North, well-armed, determined, 
 brave, 
 
 Resources large engaged ; 
 The South, with all that valor gave, 
 
 Unequal warfare waged . 
 
 Place after place before the hosts 
 
 Of Northern armies fell ; 
 In strengthening and holding posts 
 
 They did their work full well. 
 
 The home of Maggie fell a prey 
 
 To Nor then conquest, too, 
 Before the dawn of Franklin ' s day 
 
 And set of lives so true. 
 
 From Southern lines thus cut, the news 
 
 Of Franklin's bloody field 
 Came first from foes, who did not lose 
 
 The chance to make it vield 
 
[23] 
 
 To them the honor, ' and they told 
 
 Of many leaders slain 
 By name, of scores of soldiers hold 
 
 Left dead upon the plain . 
 
 Thus borne, the news to Maggie came, 
 To her news frought with woe, 
 
 In list of dead was Johnny's name, 
 A trophy to the foe. 
 
 But sorro w long a mournful guest 
 Had dwelt in Maggie's heart, 
 
 A guest that waits its own behest 
 To come and to depart . 
 
 The reaper death had found a field 
 
 Within her home to reap. 
 And to its sickle first to yield. 
 
 Their eyes with tears to steep. 
 
 Her father was ; and when it fell 
 
 Again, that sickle dread. 
 Her mother, loved and nursed so well. 
 
 Was gamed with the dead. 
 
 And Johnn3^'s mother, too, had felt 
 
 That sickle's deadly power. 
 And Maggie had beside her knelt 
 
 In prayer the fateful hour. 
 
 Need it be said for whom her praj-er 
 Beseiged the throne of grace? 
 
 A far off camp, a soldier there, 
 A happy, open face 
 
[34] 
 
 With sudden grief all overspi-eiad, — 
 
 This picture rose to vi6w; 
 Her heart afresh with ahgnisli bled, 
 
 To pale her rosy htie. 
 
 The humble slaves, their minds the 
 strings 
 
 By many others played, 
 Grew suddenly from surfs to kings, 
 
 B}^ artful artists made. 
 
 Freed by the fortunes of the war, 
 They flocked to new found friends, 
 
 Thoughtless of thrift and seeking for 
 The good that fortune sends. 
 
 But there were tliose within whose 
 hearts. 
 
 Affection had a soil 
 So rich it yielded to the ^rts 
 
 Of tillage without toil . 
 
 ' 'Aunt Milly' ' was a household name 
 Beyond the household known, 
 
 As oft to it as troubles came 
 Was her devotion shown . 
 
 And Ret, her daughter, Maggie's maid, 
 
 A heart so faithful had 
 That Maggie's sorrows on it weighed. 
 
 Her pleasures made it glad . 
 
 These and som^ others , faithful few , 
 Yet loved the old plantation ; 
 
 They left not old friends for the new. 
 Nor cared for chahge of station. 
 
And Johnnj' dead 1 This Majj:gie heard , 
 
 But she remembered then 
 That he had given her his word 
 
 He ' d visit her again ; 
 
 And she iiad even had no dream 
 
 That he was back again 
 So sweet and vivid as to seem 
 
 A visit to the Glen . 
 
 Such cruel news could not be true, 
 
 And she resolved to go 
 And seek from those who Johnny knew 
 
 To hope's fruition know. 
 
 * 'Yes, hone3% chile, ' ' Aunt Milly said. 
 
 ' 'Yer shall to Franklin go, 
 ' 'Marse Johnny sho'ly can't be dead 
 
 An ' he may need yer so . 
 
 An ' Milly " 11 fur dis household kear 
 
 Jes' likeyo' mother, chile. 
 An ' Ret shall go an ' with yer shear 
 
 Yo' journey, eh'vy mile. ' ' 
 
 And Ret, who ready assent gave. 
 The journey longed to make, 
 
 Because to Maggie's will the slave, 
 And for another ' s sake . 
 
 The first o'er Captain Pool to bend. 
 
 When on the field he fell, 
 Was Ned, most faithful to attend, 
 
 Who loved and served him well . 
 
"Mars Joimny, whar yer shot ?'' said 
 he, 
 ' ' O Lordy ! is yer dead ? 
 O speak, Mars Johnny, speak ter me 1 
 Sp«ak to yo ' servant Ned ! ' ' 
 
 And when the doctors came aronnd 
 
 To give the wounded care. 
 Nursing the Captain's head they found 
 
 Ned watching by him tliere. 
 
 The.y bore him tenderly away, 
 
 Working with hearty will, 
 Procured a home where he could stay. 
 
 And dressed his wounds with skill ; 
 
 Hoping the while 'gainst hope almost. 
 
 Resolved all chance to turn 
 To good; and this for no vain boast. 
 
 Nor yet to plaudits earn. 
 
 Nor j^et alone for love they bore 
 The cause they had at heart, 
 
 Incentive strong, bj^ this moved more: 
 Love of the healing art . 
 
 And Ned was left to nurse him there. 
 Or, rather, truth would say, 
 
 Ned took upon himself this care. 
 And nursed him night and day. 
 
 ' 'Ef dar aint Ret I Hue -com she heah? 
 
 An' dar's Miss Maggie, sho' I 
 Bress God, Mars Johnny now mos ' neab 
 
 Ter be hissef once mo ' ' ' ' 
 
Ned saw them from the porch, and ran 
 
 In haste his charge to tell, 
 And in confusion thus began, 
 
 ' 'Mars John — Miss Maggie ! ' ' — 
 "Well!" 
 
 ' 'Don'cher git skeerd, Mars Johnny, 
 Is heah, and so is Ret, [she 
 
 Bof comin' — in de doah-— see ! " — 
 He did not further get . 
 
 ' 'Why Maggie I ' ' — ' 'Johnny, yon must 
 try," 
 
 Her voice was soft and clear, 
 ' 'To ask no questions, by and by 
 
 I ' 11 tell what you would kear . ' ' 
 
 She had by this time reached his bed. 
 
 One hand in his had laid. 
 One on his brow, and Johnny said, 
 
 ' ' How sweet ! for this I ' ye prayed . ' ' 
 
 No vision of Elysian field, 
 
 No dream of early love 
 Did e ' ei- to him a pleasure yield 
 
 In sweetness this above. 
 
 So sweet the days, recovery, 
 That had seemed slow before. 
 
 Came now on wings; if walking, he 
 Would w4sh that it were slower. 
 
 Now Ned had. something he would say. 
 
 Some tender words to Ret, 
 And thought to tell her day by day 
 
 On her his heart was set ; 
 
[28j 
 
 But when he tried, his heart would 
 thump 
 
 With such a nervous scare, 
 It seemed that from him it would jumj) 
 
 And leave him lieartless there. 
 
 But Ned somewhat of war had seen, 
 
 And stratagem he knew 
 Was oft a more effective mean 
 
 Than loss of crimson hue . 
 
 ' 'Mars Johnny lubs Miss Maggie Key, 
 
 Miss Maggie lubs him too, 
 An ' Rettuh am de gal for me — 
 Widdout her what I do ? ' ' 
 
 The voice was Ned's, he'd improvised 
 
 A tune the words to lit, 
 And knew that Ret, whom he so prized, 
 
 Did in his hearing sit . 
 
 • 'I lub dat gal. De light am sawft 
 
 Dat luminates her eye ; 
 De nectur on her lips how awf t 
 
 I's seen an' long'd ter tr}^ ! ' ' 
 
 Ret gently coughed ; and, turning, Ned 
 
 His lovely vision met . 
 Is YOU here gal?' " he shyly said* 
 
 ' An' did jev heah me. Ret'?' ' 
 
 "Why Ned; how you go on ! you know 
 That I was by that stan ' ! 
 How come so round about j^ou go 
 To ask a ladv ' s ban ' ? ' ' 
 
[29 J 
 
 She coyly raised the fringed shades. 
 
 The curtains of her eyes, 
 And archly asked, ' 'You know what 
 
 Before the old day dies? ' ' [fades 
 
 ' 'De light, ' ' said he. ' 'Just so, ' ' she 
 ' 'And then the one what tries [said. 
 
 Can steal a kiss; and darkness, Ned, 
 Comes when I shut my eyes. ' ' 
 
 The curtains fell, the hint he took. 
 
 And also stole a kiss, 
 And then approving word and look 
 
 They sought from ''Mars" and 
 
 ' 'Miss. ' ' 
 
 The carnival of death was o'er, 
 Peace had resumed her reign 
 
 To all the gentle arts restore 
 And loss to help regain. 
 
 Bereft of fortune and of power, 
 
 By aliens over -run. 
 The South, in many a bitter hour. 
 
 Felt that the North had won 
 
 The land they loved they saw the prey 
 
 To greed of conq'ring foe, 
 Slaves raised to sovereigns, and they 
 
 Degraded slaves below. 
 
 But they ' d returned from fields of strife 
 
 Resolved to start anew 
 Upon the higher plane of life. 
 
 And peaceful arts pursue ; 
 
And this to do required that they 
 The ruling power should be. 
 
 Brain ne'er to ignorance can pay 
 Obeisance and be free. 
 
 The dear old homestead at the Glen, 
 Which had had changes sad. 
 
 Was full of noisy joy again 
 To welcome scenes more glad. 
 
 Throughout the house the scented air 
 
 A great event bespoke, 
 And work and bustle everywhere 
 
 Its sorrowing silence broke. 
 
 Aunt Milly took control in chief. 
 
 And bustled all about ; 
 And Ret. who had m tact belief, 
 
 Used Ned to help her out. 
 
 But Maggie deftly re -touched all, 
 
 And needed changes made ; 
 Her magic touch did beauty (^all, 
 
 And taste her charm obeyed. 
 
 How sweet to linger ' round a scene 
 
 W^here two by Cupid led. 
 With naught but love themselves be- 
 
 In holy bonds are wed ! [tween. 
 
 And with this story here may we 
 This scene long linger 'round, 
 
 Where Johnny Pool and Maggie Kley 
 In wedlock's bonds are bound.