K 1 'i THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. AN EPISODE OF 1863. IN THREE PARTS. 1, ■ J". 3D. HZ^yLTOISr, Author of ''Voices from the Rocky Mountains;' &-c., ^c. Otium sine Literis mors est. Animi cultushumanitafis cibus. ^y'^^^^^^^r,^ PALMYRA, NEW JERSEY 187S. ^•^ ^0^<^ .H %-^'^ PEEFAOE. — t — ■ As this book is only written for the perusal of true admirers of genu- ine poetry — those who can appreciate lofty imagination, grand concep- tion and combination of ideas — graceful, fluent, flowing numbers — choicest harmony of cadence and rhyme, freighted with high and noble aspirations, filled with feeling and pathos, adorned with simile and metaphor — who know that it is not enough for sentiments to be natural, graceful, and proper, in order that a poet may acquire any high degree of poetical merit, but that he must also be sublime and pathetic ; For such persons of exquisite taste and feeling of heart this poem is written. So, from those of an opposite bias of mind, the author hears praise with- out being elated, and ribaldry without being in the least depressed. He has so frequently seen the first too lavishly and precipitately bestowed, and the latter so cowardly and faithless to its purpose, that he deems it is often the only index to real merit in the present age. He is not so arrogant as to declare this the finest poetical production of the century, Ijut if it has its equal in beauty of thought and expression, he will thank any one who will be so kind as to show it to him. If some parts of this poem are found to be inferior in action to others, it was so meant to be by the author. No scenery is grand, beautiful and sublime, with- out undulations and breaks : Its valleys and hills, its rivers, its torrents its rills, its towering trees, its grass, its weeds, flowers and thorns, sun- shine and and storm. This will be seen, as the numbers of this story appear. THE AUTHOR, Palmyra, New Jersey, jSjS. THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. PART I. A tale of love and sorrow, of a sad and piteous time ; A tale of war and slaughter, wouldst thou learn it ? hear my rhyme. A tale of those dark, bloody days, when within this land arose, That fratricidal war, so grim, from its beginning to its close. A tale of those who fought and bled, and won, and paid the price; For they with the countless dead lay down — a willing sacrifice. Nor ask me how this wild, mournful, legend, came into my ken ; As truth let it pass, as others go, amongst the sons of men. 'Twas when o'er Pennsylvania's fertile hills and valleys came, The fierce, invading Southern Host, like a destroying flame ; And from their harvest-fields her terror stricken children fled. Or with their crimson gore, her winding streams ran warm and red. And through her sister States, her cry for aid and succor went, Swift as the lightning's flash across the cloudy firmament. And from the far off East and West, and from the glorious Nortli, Battalion on battalion streamed, like mountain torrents forth. They flocked from cities, and from fields, from tall mountain and from glen ; From plough and quarry, forge and loom, and mines, sent forth their hordes of men ; The prisons were unlocked, and all those who pined in dungeon den, Were gladly called forth to v/ar for her, for all were needed then ! 2 THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. As from realms where piercing frosts descend, and freezing breezes blow, The swarming cranes embodied fly, where suns congenial glow ; With ceaseless noise and clamor the myriads fill the dusky air, So, vast the armies flocked to aid her, in those days of dark despair ; Vast as the flies that o'er leagues of carrion hum at evening warm, When far o'er the silent valleys looms the coming thunderstorm; Countless as the bees that from a hundred hives together swarm ; So vast, so thick, for her in war array, did fierce battalions forn^ ! Oh, 'twas a time of bitter anguish ! of weeping and of wail ! Of heart-devouring teen ; and all with fear or grief were pale ! For sisters parted with their brothers, inothers with their sons ; Many whom they ne'er shall meet again, while time her chariot runs 1 Fathers left their little ones, and husbands left their weeping wives, But many meet on earth no more, till the Judgment day arrives ! Maidens parted with their lovers, friend with friend, and kin with kin ; O'er the land was naught but weeping, parting, or busy battle din ! 'Twas then within New York, where the shining Hudson runs. There dwelt in manhood's prime, one of earth's boldest, bravest sons ! One like those brave Three Hundred, those sturdy, godlike men of old, Who fell for Greece and liberty, Avith Leonidas the bold ! Or one like those ever glorious, those triumphant Three ! Who warred on Rome's Bridge against a host, and kept their city free I Like them he rose in all his strength, to keep this land from thrall ; He rose to battle for her right, to strike, to conquer or to fall ' Go, gaze on the sons of men, but a manlier form, I ween, Since first the race began, ye'll find, has never trod on green ! Tall was his form, his shoulders broad, close trimmed his yellow hair, And in his lightsome face you might trace, hope, triumph, no despair. But when stirred to anger, he was a mortal fierce and grim ; Trained in all manly practice, huge of thew and strong of limb. And mark his fierey glances how swift around they dart. They show his courage fierce and firm, though compassionate his heart. Yea, gaze in his deep blue eye ! and right plainly you will see, A strange wild blending of savageness, Avith mild humanity. Witli all their fire, see a heart turned to kindliness and love, THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. 3 For in him has nature mingled well, the eagle and the dove. He leaves his home of peace and love, to face the battle flame, For not through him he keenly feels, shall Northmen come to shame ! O'er his heart no human power a cloud of fear can roll, For well he knows to die or conquer, proves a sturdy hero's soul ! A few brief hours are left him to bid farewell to all, A few brief hours ere he must go to triumph or to fall. And there ne'er lived a nobler one within this world of ours. This sphere of checkered ways, of paths of thorns and flowers ; But who to some cherished one, would bid farewell ere they depart ; Some much loved one who through all time, shall linger in that heart; Who through earth's bright or dullest scenes, through all life's joys or cares. They there enshrined shall dwell and know no change through endless years. Yea, their image graved on that heart, warming it with deathless glow. Cheering it as the sun the world, through all its peril, pain or vvoe. Yea, one who weeps when they depart, and smiles with joy when they return, Who'd nurse them through all ills, or constant mourn above their silent urn. It is a lovely summer day, by Hudson's beauteous stream, The sparkling flood is turned to gold by Sol's departing beam, The banks of trees and flowers in the stream, are sweetly mirror' d there. Those banks of trees and flowers that scent the balmy summer air ; The sun grows slant on the hills, the wind is breathing through the trees, The flowers bloom mongst their roots, the grass is waving to the breeze • Murmuring rill of vale and hill, dance in the rays of the sun. The herds gambol by streams that through luxuriant pastures run ; The sun is sinking, all the sky aglow, and vale and hill-top blaze. Like molten ore, in the intense, full splendor of his parting rays. And like rejoicing things of sense and thought, the graceful linden trees, Flufter their green glittering leaves unto the healthful summer breeze; The smiling sun goes down, and o'er the wide and glowing stream, In all her queenly loveliness, comes forth the moon's broad beam ; 4 THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. O'er the landscape bright are harvest fields, and corn in tasseled bloom, Lilies wave their heads on high, and load the air with sweet perfume. And like an all-pervading spirit, upon this earthly ball, Night slowly flings her silent drapery, her gray and dusky pall ; And wooes her to repose as a mother her infant unto sleep, One by one the stars come forth, and like sentinels their vigils keep. Far to the right, all ghastly white, on sloping fields of green. Like flocks of scattered sheep, wide wastes of tents are dimly seen. And oft cometh wild, merry shouts, as though happy souls were there, For all those gallant hearts their farewell songs are singing loud and clear. They sing of love and not of fame — forgot is grisely war the while, Though most bear ghastly scars from many a reeking carnage pile. And as their songs grow louder, and swell upon the balmy air, From manly cheeks into the earth, drops many a silent tear ! Oh, gallant hearts ! who can tell the anguish and the doubts that fill, Your bosoms now? or the strange misgivings that through your bosoms thrill? While nov/ you bid your last adieu, to those whose hearts arc mourning sore, Alas, brave chiefs ! you've kissed your last fond kiss, ye'U meet on earth no more ! The s2asons will roll on, and bring all their storm and shine and rain, But never to your loved ones, shall you, brave hearts, return again ! And till yon pine the lightning shivered, shall uprear its lifeless stem, Wives ! mothers ! sisters ! daughters ! maidens ! shall ye look in vain for them 1 Beneath a poplar tall, there on the bank of living green, This lovely eve in thoughtful mood, our gallant youth is seen. And by his side his promised bride, like an angel standeth there, Her lovely face upturned to heaven, as though in silent prayer ! Fairer than the fairest flower, that ever bloomed in shine or shade. Is she, the idol of his soul, that young and glorious maid ! Oh, the sweet, sweet smile upon her lips, her eyes so kind and sheen ; Never since the firct of womankind, was such a face, I ween. High is her brow, \nd fair as snow; her long bright, glorious hair, THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG, e Which falls on her cheek, like gold-hued cloud flakes on a morning fair; (Or as the radiant halo seen round some far off happy sphere), Waves o'er her fair, thin-draped, heaving breast, sporting with the balmy air. As the winds in summer sighing over amaranthine flowers, As the low, sweet, songs that float through pleasure's happiest bowers, Or as the lonely Anawanda, when storms have ceased to blow, That sings amidst Brazillian wastes, her voice is sweet and soft and low. Her lips are as the fairest rose when moist vv'th heaven's shower; Her eyes as two bright stars of light, at midnight's tranquil hour. When the silver moon has waned from heaven, and frosty is the night, Two bright stars that gladdened heaven and earth with their majestic light; Her round arm white as the foam from ocean's heaving billow born, Her footsteps lighter than the mists that sail along the hills at morn ; Or as the softest murmur of some far off melodious song, When at eve across the waters on fragrant winds it floats along; Or light as the glancing spectrum that a perfect prism throws. When full on it through a narrow sphere a smiling sunbeam glows. Her mouth is as amaranthine bud, or gem of asphodel, When first it 'gins to bloom on Oriental moor or fell. Fairest of womankind, on which ever rosy morning gleamed ! Fail est creature of the earth on which moon or stars have beamed ! Is she, that pure and gentle being who standeth there the while, A maiden with a seraph's heart and with an angel's rosy smile ! In naught has nature failed to bless her ; with her all virtues dwell Lovely is she to look upon ; high born, and also nurtured well. Her pure young heart gives virtues birth, and bedecks her deeds ahvay, As meadows grass and flowers yield in the sweet warm month of May. Yea, matchless is her loveliness, and matchless is her soul's oun grace ! Yet skilled in all handicrafts that crown and bless her gentle race ; Skilled in all useful arts that befit an Anglo-Saxon wife. That make a paradise on earth, and ever gladden human life. Oh, breathes there on earth a wretch with feelings all so cold and dead ! Who never paused to view the smile by virtuous beauty shed ? 6 THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. And there as he gazed in secret raised his thoughts to heaven, And thanked his God with all his soul that such a gift was given ! And thought as he gazed his soul away, no region could be drear. Not e'en Sahara's gloomy waste, if woman's :;unny smile were there ! Woman, sacred be thy name ! blessed the hour that caused thy birth ! For, woman, without thee, what a dreary wilderness were earth ! Thou'rt the best and noblest gift that God to mortal man bestowed ; Thy voice can ever gladden him, o'er life's dark and thorny road. Thou'rt his solace, friend and nurse, in joy, in sorrow, unto death ; And throughout all time thou shalt be blest by man's first and latest breath ! His boast and pride thou art through youth, and all his glorious prime ; And e'en when bent with years, he totters down the corridor of time ! Thou'rt the verdant, blessed oasis, smiling 'midst the arid waste. To which panting, fainting, wonderers fly when by the simoom chased ; Thou'rt the radiant sun that keeps creation fresh and warm ; The bow that comes upon the troubled sky and smiles away the storm ! Thou art the gleaming peerless moon, gladdening the murkiest night, Thou art the noblest thing from God's own realm of purity and light ! And such is his Minona, a being of all gentleness, Sent from yon bright realms on high the world to dazzle and to bless. Yea, sent by the Great Eternal One, to journey here awhile, A type of those we yet shall see beyond this sphere of sin and guile ! And who be those two lovers, that here this eve together stand. Upon the bank of that clear stream, hand so gently clasped in hand ; Whose dear images shall never fade from out each other's soul ; — Till the tree that fell last year uprears its shattered lifeless bole ! One summer day a stately vessel sailed from mighty England's shore, Bound for this great Western world, and o'er the deep these loving hearts it bore. But they were infants then ; a few brief months could number all the days. They had existed in this world — this world of rough and thorny ways. And with the infant boy his sire and loving mother sailed, A wealthy noble pair, who from Dun-Edin's ancient city hailed, THE ERIDE OF GETTYSBURG. >7 With the other infant came her sire, and an aged nurse, But as kind a soul as ever dwelt upon this universe. She was of that stamp of humankind found seldom in this world of woe, Whose pure bright spirits know no thought or wish but what a world might know. Though sprung from out the poor and humble trani, her soul gave vir- tues birth, As grass and flowerets spring from some rich soil that knows r.o frost nor dearth. In every period of her life, through all her weal or woe, Her heart to Him was ever given from whence all blessings flow ; In all His mercies she ever saw a Father's kindness shine, Nor let she a gift His grace conferred her heart from him incline. Through all times of joy, or fell distress, each bright or gloomy scene, A sweet and humble mind she still possessed, contented and serene. Her spirit soared to that pure fount whence endless comfort flows. She learned to scorn this cruel world and calmly bear its woes. Noble was her soul, and its house of clay had nature nobly formed, Never a more fair and queenly form hath human life-blood warmed. Native gracefulness was round her, as a glowing robe of light ; Yea, gracefulness and ease, and all that proves a spirit calm and bright. And though well loaded down with toilsome years, yet if queen might wear. On her brow such stately beauty, no diadem were needed there. As a sunbeam on,e bright smile of love upon her lips there lay. But as a sunbeam that ne'er grows cold, nor fades, nor ever dies away. And still in death she wore it, e'en when closed the sable coffin lid, And evermore from human eye her clay cold features hid. Such was that nurse, Ulrica, to whom Minona was left in charge. When from England's shore o'er Atlantic billows sailed that vessel large. Nine days and nights they had safely journeyed, o'er the azure main; On the tenth a storm arose, dreadful was the tempest and the rain ! Terrific were the thunder peals, and grim the blinding lightning came. As though to wrap that vessel all within a robe of gleaming flame ! As monsters furious and dread, the giant billows rose ane fell, 3 THE DRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. And as some frail nut shell the vessel reeled to each terrific swell ! Soon there burst a deafening crash, a groan and agonizing yell ! While the ocean o'er that vessel swept like some demoniac hell ! And far o'er the raging deep a mast with shrouds and spars was borne, With them from that fated ship, alas, ten human forms were torn ! And one, Minona's sire ! Then burst from those waters dark and wild. One only voice; 'twas his ! " God take me, but oh, protect my child ! Just then from out the inky firmament, but for a moment's space. Bright o'er those waters dark and wild shot forth the sun's effulgent face ; So sudden and so swift across the billows glanced that glowing beam, It seemed to be a trick of magic or a flying, passing dream. Then afar upon a rising billow amidst those waters vast. For the last time was seen that father, clinging to the shattered mast. Hope a moment through each bosom ran to see the tempest lull. And all on deck were hurried, to pump that leaking, tossing hull. Vain their toil ! swift as thought, the inky clouds again the skyo'ercast, The tempest rose as the fiercest sweep of some grim tropic blast. Or like the hoarded tempests of all ages, rising at the voice Divine, And full on the vessel rushed a roaring avalanche of brine. As round and round a reed is tossed on the mcelstrom's awful brim, So round and round that hull was spun midst the billows fierce and grim. As up and down midst the waters, bobs the buoy when storms are keen. So rose and sank that hull, now lost to sight, now a moment seen. The tempest deepened ; like ten thousand fiends in pain, it shrieked and yelled ! Higher still to heaven, the furious billows rose and swelled ! In blinding sheets the lightnings burst ! peal on peal the thunders rolled ! As though to rouse the dead of ages past, all whom earth or seas may hold ! Like a huge earthquake shock heard at midnight o'er the hills afar. So came unto that trembling crew the crash of timbers and of spar. Like a knell of death and judgment rung from the Eternal Throne, Bursting on hopeless sinners' ears, chilling nerve and vein and bone. So, fore and aft through gaping seams, they heard the gushing waters roll, Then terror palsied nerve and thewj and hope abandoned every soul. THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. g And like a leaf torn by the tempest from off its shattered tree, The pilot from the helm was wrenched and tossed into the boil'ng sea. But like a saving angel, sent at pitying 'leaven's command, To keep that weary crew from grim death that seemed so near at hand, The instant that the pilot went, to the helm there rushed a man, Though to and fro that vessel reeled, and roaring surges o'er it ran. Calm and serene he grasped the helm, like being from another world. And safely steered that vessel on, though drenching waves were on him hurled ; Nor vessel's lurch, nor storm nor wave, from the helm could sever him, For endowed was he with more than human strength of thew and limb. Yea, I ween, never a stronger hand has grasped a vessel's helm ; Less like man he seemed, than a God of that fierce, watery realm ! But who was he that steered that vessel, with nerve and arm so strong ? Who, but Moran Percy, the father of the hero of this song ! Calm and serene as one whose faith in God is rooted sure and fast. He looked the while he steered that vessel through surge and roaring- blast ; As some firm rocky fort that recks not flood, nor siege, nor driving storm. So cased in faith and godly pride, beside the helm he reared his form. With faces pale as are the dead, that load the funeral pile ; Or like the snow-white foam, that round them tossed for many a mile. On the creaking deck the trembling, helpless crew were crouched the while. Yet dauntless was his look and high and radiant was his smile. Once more on the shattered deck an avalanche of water fell, And then once more on the tempest rose a groan and stifled yell ! And once more a reeling mast and shrouds were torn and burst in twain, And with them twelve of that crew were tossed upon the boiling main ! • Then, thank God ! the tempest lulled, pitchy clouds away were driven, Bright o'er the plunging ocean shone the azure face of heaven. But still long rolled the billows high, though to sleep had sunk the blast, And through gaping seams within that hull the flood was rushing fast. Then knelt in cabin and on deck, those with terror shaken sore. And many who never breathed a prayer unto their God before ! lO THE CRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. Dire were the yells of dark despair that issued with each breath, As they called on God to save them from their fast approaching death ! Some wildly tossed their arras aloft, and wrung their hands and tore their hair, Some still as marble figures stood, and looked like statues of despair ! Some shook their fists at heaven, blaspheming with vociferous yells. Defying God ! and looked like demons from the fiercest of all hells ! Some, with hardihood of soul, strong as sinews of their iron frame, In silence at the pumps toiled on ; nor once from them a murmur came ! .Vh, brave souls ! in vain they toiled ! in vain they strove the leak to staunch ! To save their ship their sinewy strength in vain they strove to launch ! But still they toiled unceasing for loved was she, as loved was life, Dearer far, was she to them, than parent, maiden, child or wife. For some there were amongst them then, and braves of that fated crew, Who through all their weary lives ne'er another love or friendship knew. To see her sink to ocean's bed and pass for aye from out their view, Patriots ne'er to see their country die, keener breaths of anguish drew ! Then wistfully the hoary Captain gazed upon the liquid realm. Which too well he knew would soon himself, his crew and vessel whelm, Ne'er a bolder man than him through raging seas had steered a helm ! Have you seen in winter time, clad with its crown of snows, a giant elm. Towering high above the forest round? so, midst his crew he rose ; Erect and huge and strong, though white his waving locks as Alpine snows ! Sixty years on stormy seas he'd seen fierce dangers round him roll. But ne'er till then a cloud of dark despair had ever whelmed his soul ! A tear stole down his cheek while gazing on that ocean's fierce unrest, Move his lips as though in silent prayer ! heaved high his brawny breast ! For his soul was like that ocean, with its stormy ebb and flow. That hides full many a glittering gem within its depths below. Though the strongest seaman of his day, and haughty, stern and grim, Famed o'er land and flood as " giant, both in thews and limb. Yet human love and kindness fired his stormy soul the whilj;, As the deathless sparks that glow within some lone volcanic isle. THE CRIDE OF GETTYSBURG. I i Though then forlorn and tempest worn, courage sparkled in his eyes, As that which in the retina of yet unconquered lion lies. Suddenly across his manly features shot a passing glow, Bright as Sol's last setting ray cast on a mountain capped with snow; And as a peal of thunder that shakes the startled midnight air, His clarion voice burst f jrth amid that scene of wild despair ; As starts the fold when in their midst some gaunt monster doth appear. So by him that crew were startled from their blasphemy and fear. " The ship is sinking fast," he said, " but our lives we yet may save. If ye all will toil together and not around like mad men rave ! So build a raft, hew down yon sole mast, bring barrel, plank and stave And lash them fast together, or soon ye each will meet your grave ! As swift as though 'twas built by magic, so quick a raft was formed, Soon on the ocean's troubled breast with human freight it swarmed. Meanwhile the only life-boat the cruel storm had deigned to spare The Captain of that vessel had placed in Moran Percy's care. In it his wife and child, and Ulrica with her charge he placed, Every babe and every woman it could carry he stowed in it with haste. Then with a sigh he set them drifting adown a rolling wave. And stayed behind to succor more or die while in the act to save For still on that fated hull some fifty souls or more remained. These to form another raft with all their thews and sinews strained. To see how these poor mortals toiled, it was indeed a ghastly si^ht ! For surely men were never in a more grim and deadly plitrht. Without food or drink or rest, they had labored through that storm Unceasing at the pumps — worn and weary was each manly form ! Though hope through all that tempest had kept their bosoms blithe and warm. She forsook them now, and ten fo'd round them did all their perils swarm. And while with weary hearts they toiled, and sinews stiff and sore High upon the stern the captain stood and thus he spake once more . " God, of the soul and sea ! Thou knowest that from this scene so dark and drear, Before Thy judgment throne my deathless spirit dreads not to appear? 12 THE BRIDE OF GETTYSBURG, Long, thou knowest, Father, it has yearned to cease its carthl y race, And in Thy holy heaven of heavens meet Thee face to face ! Thou knowest when but a child I roamed my native Albion fields, Era yet I learned the many woes this universe of sorrow yields, How I in prayer have knelt to Thee, taught by them who years ago Thou called to Thee, and left me early orphaned in this world of woe ! Since then through all my prime till now, whether on land or rolling sea. As 'twere done by instinct, my soul hath always homage paid to Thee ! Thy awful presence, though unseen, has amidst us been to-day. And has bid the plunging billows tear my dearest friends away ! Now, to hear Thy voice, would be more welcome to my thirsty soul, Than to cars of him midst scorching wastes the gushing water's ro'.l ! Ah, Father Almighty ! surely when Thou gavest my soul her birth, And eternal made her, 'twas for a holier home than earth ! From this sad scene now bid me go ; burst the bonds that bind my soul! With eyes undazzled view the prize, and joyously embrace the goal ! Bid my spirit bound to Thee ; from this sphere of anguish set it free ! For it yearns to join those friends whom Thou this day have ta'en to Thee ! Thou