faces more delicately fair, but never one so calculated to express
the varying emotions of the soul. The eye that now slumbered under
that dark and beautifully-pencilled brow, and now instinct with life
and spirit, flashed with sudden light, how beautiful it was! at one
time awing by its deep and pure tranquillity, at another, startling
by its brilliancy. Why should I try so vain a task, as to note down
the items of that spiritual loveliness which one may feel but not
portray? Do you, most imaginative reader, spare me the pains of so
futile an attempt; recall to your memory the vision of her who once
shone in your eyes the polar star of your affections; the rich and
perfect form that glided before you in your moments of purest and
holiest feeling, while your rapt sight rested entranced upon her
every motion, and your head was dizzy with excess of loveliness, and
your full soul throbbed in your bounding pulses, as you followed
the object of your idolatry. The eye, which beamed upon you with
insufferable light, the brightness of whose glance was your life,
and which, when it fell upon you, thrilled through blood and bone.
The hand, whose light and fairy touch could bind you more strongly
than that of a giant, and whose gentle pressure was more to you than
all the world beside; the fair, calm brow, on whose polished surface
heaven had set the impress of its own purity and innocence. Does
memory recall such a being? Such, but more spiritually beautiful,
was Maria Edwards. Such she was, worthy to be daughter, sister,
bride, of the men of olden times. She was indeed qualified to rouse
the sleeping spirit of chivalry into action--into deep, firm,
and unchanging devotedness to the cause of truth and principle.
Startled from a prophetic reverie of the future independence of her
country, by the rude clamor and clash of steel without, she at once
comprehended the horror of her situation. Her father, her idolized
father, had long been the object of suspicion to the invaders, and
nothing but the danger of sending a detachment into the neighborhood
of the mountain fastnesses, had prevented him from being long since
a prisoner; but now, after the defeat of Sumpter, at Hanging Rock,
they deemed the spirit of the country broken. Now the hour of peril
was come, and that fair girl braced herself to do and dare. The rich
color passed from her face, but resolution enthroned itself on that
high, pale brow. She descended calmly to the room where her parents
were, and found her mother, with more of woman in her composition,
clinging in wild terror to the arms of her husband. Fear knew no
place in Mr. Edwards's mind, but the sight of his weeping and
fainting wife, as she hung upon him in despair, well nigh unmanned
him.
Maria gently unclasped her mother's hand, and twining her own fond
arms around her, whispered, 'Mother, if you love my father, let him
prepare himself for this emergency.' She felt the appeal, and with
a violent effort, subduing her emotion, permitted him to leave the
room, though her tearful and straining eyes followed his retreating
form with an ardent gaze. Mr. Edwards turned, as he reached the door,
for one more look, and for a moment stood irresolute; but the violent
knocking without, roused him into action. As he turned away, the
clear, calm voice of his daughter thrilled on his ear: 'Remember,
my father, you have a name, a country, and a God!' 'I do, I will!'
was his energetic reply, as he ordered the servant to open the door,
which now rang with redoubled blows.
It opened, and the venerable form and silver hair of the old man
stood in strong contrast with the inflamed features and violent
gestures of the officer who commanded the party. Violent and ruthless
as he was, he retreated with involuntary respect; but soon recovering
his roughness of manner, he demanded why an officer of the king was
forced to stand so long before the door of his subject.
'I thank heaven, Sir,' said Mr. Edwards, 'that _your_ King has few
subjects here, and among those few, you are much mistaken if you
number me. You are the first, Sir, who has ever had occasion to
impeach the hospitality of my house; the first whom I could not
heartily bid welcome.'
'Tis very well, Sir,' replied Captain G----, 'but, by Heaven! I
carry with me the means of making myself at home, and scorn to accept
as a favor the forced hospitality of a hoary and ungrateful traitor,
when I can command it as my due. As long as rebellion finds a place
in this land, I am at free quarters. You, Sir, and your treasonable
practices, are well known; and you will prepare yourself to accompany
me, within this hour, to meet the doom of a traitor.'
'Show me your warrant, even from your illegal authorities, if indeed
you cover your violence under the pretence of law.'
'Here is one warrant,' said the officer, touching his sword, 'and
there are fifty more without, if you wish to see them.'
'A most convincing authority, Sir, and one which, as I cannot resist,
I must yield to. A few minutes to prepare, and then----'
'Well, Sir, yourself and family must be ready within an hour.
Collins, let the men dismount, and take care of their horses; and
hark ye, put careful fellows round the house, and see if you can get
any of the dark skins to join you. Promise freedom, you know, and all
that; and when we get to head quarters, we will see about a shipment
to Jamaica. Do you hear me, Sir?
'Yes, please your honor,' said the orderly; 'but we have tried the
niggers every way, and they won't join; they say they'd rather stay
in their sarvitude.'
And such was the fact. To the slaves of the southern states, the
British, as a master-stroke of policy, offered their freedom. Many
accepted it, joined the army, and were regularly 'divisioned' off
to the West Indies, there, in the sugar plantations, to find their
boasted liberty. But by far the greater number preferred their old
and kind masters, and stood by them to the last. Such were the
negroes on Mr. Edwards's estate, many of whom would have given their
lives freely for their master, and their adored 'young missis.'
When Mr. Edwards communicated to his wife and daughter the order
for their immediate departure, the one received it with tearful
resignation and joy, that in weal or wo they were not to be divided,
the other, with a high determination to let nothing pass which gave
hope of relief. Suddenly it burst upon her mind that Sumpter could
not be far off, though of late he had been concealed, she knew not
where. She determined to communicate with him, well knowing that
his acquaintance with the country would enable him to intercept the
troop, ere they could return to camp.
In order to effect her purpose, she called Juba, her father's known
and trusty servant, who had watched over her brother's boyish
footsteps, and was heart and soul devoted to the family. To him she
unfolded the necessity of immediate communication, with her brother,
and leaving it to his ingenuity to devise a way of escape, hastened
him on his journey. The poor fellow had come into the room with
deep sorrow depicted on his swarthy lineaments; but as his mistress
sketched her plan, and showed him how much she depended on his
shrewdness and faithful attachment, his dark face rapidly changed
to a joyous and happy expression, and the tears rolled down, as he
vowed never to cease his exertions till his master's family were once
more safe.
His first attempt to glide off unperceived, was frustrated by the
sentinels, who, with presented arms, bade him stand back. He then
returned to the house, and taking on his head a large water-bucket,
proceeded, carelessly whistling, to a spring on the edge of the
cleared land. It was situated near the crest of a small hill, which,
though open and cleared upon one side, was upon the other covered
with forest, interlaced with the thousand wild vines and thick bushes
which form the undergrowth of our woods. Here, too, a sentinel had
been placed, and our friend Juba advanced dancing up the ascent,
swaying his body to preserve his equilibrium. The sharp challenge of
the sentry, enforced by the rattle of his musket, as it was thrown up
to his shoulder, warned him to stand.
Ki! massa; dont shoot poor nigger, Sà;' and he recoiled in well-acted
fear. The soldier, laughing at the effect of his order, called to
him: 'Well, my dark beauty, what are you at now? You can't pass here.'
'No, Sà; on'y want lilly water, Sà, for the buckra won't drink none,
Sà, but from dis 'ere spring?'
'Oh, well, if that's all, come, and fill your tub, there; and be
quick, d' ye hear?'
Juba soon filled his tub, and apparently struggled to lift it, but
failing to do so, applied very respectfully to the good-natured
soldier to help him. This he readily consented to do; and holding his
firelock in one hand, and grasping the handle of the tub with the
other, raised it to the height of his shoulder. This was what the
wily Juba wanted; and rapidly turning the whole contents over the
dragoon, he saluted him with the bottom of the tub upon his head,
with such force as to drive out the boards, and leave the hoops
and staves dangling round his neck, a new order of merit; and then
gaining the woods, by a succession of rapid bounds, he sped away with
the quick and light steps of the mountain deer. The soldier, who was
somewhat staggered by the blow, rapidly recovering his carbine and
presence of mind, pulled trigger on him before he reached the covert.
But the powder, thoroughly wetted, refused to ignite; and before he
could re-prime, Juba was far out of reach and sight. 'Well,' said
the Englishman, 'here's a pretty go! I may as well fire, though,
and when the guard comes out, make the best of my story. The cursed
cucumber-shinned rascal! How his bandy legs twinkled, as he ran!'
Upon the discharge of his piece, he was immediately relieved, and
conducted to the captain, who, after many an oath, ordered to
sound to horse instantly, and make the best of their way back. The
prisoners were placed in the centre, the files formed, and at a rapid
trot they entered on the long, rough, and mazy road by which they
came. To one alive to the beauty of forest and mountain scenery,
every part was in the highest degree interesting. Here, they passed
along the side of the mountain, bearded and rough with pine and
cedar; there, in the deep declivity, welled calmly out the clear and
peaceful stream, which, after its tossing and troubled course down
its rocky bed, seemed glad to be at rest. The sighing of the wind
among the tree tops, and the indescribable murmur which proceeds
from a deep forest, even when the winds are at peace, grew more
full and loud, as the wild breeze increased, waving aside the lofty
and matted branches, and startling the sombre retreats of the dark
woods with rare glimpses of sunshine. Now and then the antlered
deer bounded from the thicket, and clearing the road with high and
curving leap, noiselessly glanced away on the mountain side; or the
black snake, the racer of his tribe, roused from his basking in the
sun, rapidly wound his way among the dry and rustling leaves, his
brilliant eye flashing and beaming in his swift and tortuous course.
Here the creeper of the southern woods, having mastered, in its
parasitic grasp, some tall and stately tree, flung out its crimson,
trumpet-shaped flowers, and fantastic drapery, across the rough path.
All was hushed in noon-day silence, save the occasional note of the
mocking-bird in the wild jessamine, or the harsh cream of the lordly
and lonely eagle, as he circled, on broad vans, high in the quiet air.
The party had just descended into one of the verdant dells which
issued from the mountain side, and the leading files gradually
mounted the ascent. The officer in advance turned in his saddle,
raised his arm, and was about to speak, when the sharp crack of a
rifle rang upon the silence. He struggled a moment to retain his
seat, but vainly, and fell to the earth, with a deep groan. His
followers fell back, and watched in anxiety the spot from which the
report had come. Captain G----, who by no means wanted courage,
instantly ordered them to unsling their carbines, and fire upon
the first suspicious movement. Some seconds passed by in perfect
stillness, when a slight rustling in the brushwood drew the attention
of the troopers; but ere they could come to a 'present,' again, from
the top of the bank, streamed the deadly shot of the backwoods rifle;
and as the slight smoke cleared away, the vacant saddles and bloody
forms below, told of their dreadful accuracy of aim.
'First and second files! to the front! charge!' shouted the captain.
'On them, my boys! Give them your carbines, and then cold steel!'
The brave fellows dashed forward, under cover of their own fire, and
spurred for a close encounter, knowing well that their only hope was
to dislodge their half-armed antagonists. But of the bold and brave
men who rushed up that trifling ascent, how few reached the top! The
deadly aim, and rapid and continuous discharge of the countrymen,
presented an insurmountable obstacle.
They recoiled once more, in confusion and dismay. Again and again
their undaunted captain brought them to the charge, and with a last
desperate effort, he and some of his bravest attained the top, though
with terrible loss. Then the wild faces and rough hunting-shirts of
the backwoodsmen appeared, as with heavy rifles, clenched in their
sun-burnt and sinewy hands, they rushed with a loud shout to the
close. The broad-swords of the troopers flashed over their heads,
and descended with full sway, only to shiver on the solid breech of
the rifle. One by one they fell, struck down by blows which no skill
could parry, and the captain himself, with blade shivered to the
hilt, only escaped to his rear-guard, close followed by the exulting
mountaineers.
'Stand firm, my lads!' said he; 'I know how to keep off their cursed
bullets.' So saying, he seized Miss Edwards, and placing her on the
saddle before him, called to his men to retreat as fast as possible,
and keep him between them and the enemy; and thus reining back his
managed steed upon the narrow path, and with pistol pointed at the
fair girl's head, he shouted, with loud and scornful tone: 'Now,
dogs, one step nearer, one bullet more, and this ball passes through
her brain.' 'Fire, for heaven and your country's sake!' shrieked the
noble girl; 'rid the world of this miscreant, though I perish with
him!'
Many an arm which might have matched that of Hercules, trembled and
quivered like an infant's; many an eye, which could mark down the
squirrel from the loftiest pine, was dimmed and dazzled by unwonted
emotion. Often was the unfailing rifle raised, but with slow and
tremulous hand, which precluded any certainty of aim; for the most
daring marksman felt a dread lest his ball might, by some slight
deviation, lodge in the bosom of that fair maiden.
Deep was the gloom and anguish on the brows of the countrymen, as
the stern Englishman, laughing in scorn, slowly retreated toward the
mouth of the defile. He well knew, that if once clear of the woods,
he would have little to fear, as a few hours' hard riding would
put him out of reach. To this was added a feeling of revenge, in
bearing away that fair prize; for her elevated beauty had raised a
deep passion in his licentious bosom; and he resolved that nothing
but death should make him resign her. Full of these wild and varying
emotions, triumph, revenge, and love, alternately raging in his
bosom, he proudly looked defiance on his baffled enemies, as his
well-managed steed stepped slowly back to the entrance of the dell.
He had now nearly attained the open and clear glade, and was already
enjoying in anticipation the security won by his daring attempt,
when he was most disagreeably interrupted by a sudden jerk, and
felt himself falling from his saddle, his arms close pinioned in a
powerful grasp.
It was our faithful friend Juba, who, when he perceived the purpose
of the Englishman to interpose his young mistress as a shield between
the parties, stood for a moment aghast at the attempt: then turning
to his young master, who was looking on in despair, he exclaimed:
'Ki! he t'ink he tote off young missee so! Please God, he _don't_
d'ough!' And bounding into the brush, on the side of the mountain,
he passed rapidly, and unperceived by the retreating troopers, and
ascending a large and spreading oak, whose huge branches overhung the
road, he ensconced himself directly over the path, and crouching like
the catamount, waited his opportunity. The dragoons passed at a rapid
pace, and as they attained the open ground, halted at some distance,
to await their officer. He came slowly on, his proud lip curled with
scorn; when, as he passed under the low limb, Juba dropped upon the
crupper of his horse, and grasping his wrists with the energy of
intense passion, they both rolled over to the ground, the pistol
going off in the fall. The dragoons, on seeing their officer fall,
rushed forward to liberate him, while the mountaineers dashed onward
to the rescue of the fair girl, led by her fiery-footed brother.
She, in the mean time, faint and dizzy-headed, extricated herself
from the horse, and staggering to the side of the road, was relieved
by insensibility from the horrors of the new combat.
One of the troopers, perceiving her situation, rushed suddenly
forward, at full speed, to consummate a life of villany by the deep
guilt of her murder. He careered rapidly on, and there was every
prospect that he would complete his fiendish purpose, before the
woodsmen could come up. But his doom was sealed. One who had watched
her budding infancy, was there; and as his steel waved in the air,
and his arm was raised to strike the fatal blow, the ball which never
missed its mark, passed though his heart!
The dragoons, unwilling to abide that storm of fire, and hopeless
of success, fled. Still the English captain and Juba rolled upon
the earth, in deadly contest, till at last the Englishman, with a
desperate exertion of his great strength, shook off the grasp of the
black, and rose to his knees. Juba, well-skilled in ground-fighting,
instantly caught him by the collar, and suddenly drawing up his knees
to his bosom, as he lay upon his back, and placing his feet upon the
Briton's breast, with a violent exertion, sent him whirling over the
edge of the precipice which bordered the road.
The black bounded upon his feet, and with a loud shout of triumph,
watched the rapid descent of his antagonist. Helpless, and stunned
with the violence of his fall, the body of the Englishman rolled
over rock, and through the thin bushes, the rapidity of the descent
momentarily increasing, till at last he soused into a bed of the
blackest and softest mud on the edge of the mountain stream. There
Juba left him, and turned to his adored mistress, whom he found
insensible in the arms of her brother. In inarticulate and trembling
grief, the poor fellow watched the slow return of life; and many
a swarthy face worked with emotion, when they heard his joyful
exclamation, as the blood returned to her cheek, and her eyes opened
on her father, mother, and brother.
'Are we then safe? Am I indeed once more in your arms, my dear
parents? Oh, it was a fearful vision!' murmured the poor girl.
'You are safe, my own dear sister!' said her brother; 'and that you
are so, you must thank Juba.'
'It is to you, then, my good Juba,' said her father, 'that we all owe
so much. Come here, not to your master, for you are free, but to your
friend.'
Juba approached, and kneeling before his former owners, murmured in
broken voice, that he did not wish to be free, if he could not stay
with his master and mistress.
'You shall, Juba; we all owe you too much, ever to part with you. But
where is your captain?'
'He gone rollin' down, head-ober-heel, till he 'tick in de branch.
Ki! he black now as eber was a nigger; and he fine red coat an't much
ob it lef.'
Several of the woodsmen descended, and fished the poor officer out
of the mud, though not, perhaps, in the most gentle manner; and
having restored him to his senses, by a copious ablution '_in
flumine vivo_,' they left him under guard, to digest his rage and
mortification as best he might.
An opportunity of exchange soon occurring, he returned to his chief;
and there was no name more dreaded and hated, except that of Tarleton
himself, in the latter part of the war, until his career of violence
was cut short, with that of many of his comrades, by Morgan's mounted
riflemen, at the battle of the Cowpens. The younger Edwards returned
with his brave associates, and after the war, the family circle once
more united, enjoyed that happiness, the universal fruit of peril and
danger firmly met and gallantly overcome.
Our friend Juba flourished for many a long year, in undiminished
warm-heartedness to the last; and when time had powdered his head,
and deadened the ebony lustre of his hue, he would tell of the perils
of his youth, among which the above made no small figure.
Maria Edwards, the beautiful and true-hearted, met with one who
appreciated her; and the bliss of a long life was enhanced by the
recollections of her early sufferings in the backwoods.
A. H.
THE SOUL.
OUR thoughts are boundless, though our frames are frail,
Our souls immortal, though our limbs decay;
Though darkened in this poor life by a veil
Of suffering, dying matter, we shall play
In truth's eternal sunbeams; on the way
To heaven's high capitol our car shall roll;
The temple of the power whom all obey,
That is the mark we tend to, for the soul
Can take no lower flight, and seek no meaner goal.
I feel it--though the flesh is weak, I feel
The spirit has its energies untamed
By all its fatal wanderings; time may heal
The wounds which it has suffered; folly claimed
Too large a portion of its youth; ashamed
Of those low pleasures, it would leap and fly,
And soar on wings of lightning, like the famed
Elijah, when the chariot rushing by,
Bore him, with steeds of fire, triumphant to the sky.
We are as barks afloat upon the sea,
Helmless and oarless, when the light has fled,
The spirit, whose strong influence can free
The drowsy soul, that slumbers in the dead,
Cold night of moral darkness; from the bed
Of sloth he rouses at her sacred call,
And kindling in the blaze around him shed,
Rends with strong effort sin's debasing thrall.
And gives to GOD his strength, his heart, his mind, his all.
Our home is not on earth; although we sleep
And sink in seeming death awhile, yet then
The awakening voice speaks loudly, and we leap
To life, and energy, and light, again;
We cannot slumber always in the den
Of sense and selfishness; the day will break,
Ere we for ever leave the haunts of men;
Even at the parting hour, the soul will wake,
Nor, like a senseless brute, its unknown journey take.
J. G. PERCIVAL.
RELIGIOUS CHARLATANRY.
NUMBER TWO.