The Daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1845-1850, 1846-11-20
THE FOOTSTEP IN THE SNOW-A IRA
DITION OF CHRISTMAS NIGHT.
BY GEORGE LIPPARD.

neartn.
1t was a lovely picture.
The old man, sitting there on the broad hearth
in the full glow Of the fame--hs dame, fine
old matron, by his side-his children, and OF
red-lpped maidens, some with slender forms,
just trembling on the verge OF girlhoOd, Others
warming and flushing into the summer morn Of
womanhood And the warm glow Of the fire
upon the white locks of the poor old man,
and on the mild face OF his wife, and the young
bloom of those fair daughters.
Had you, on that dark night-for it was dark
and cold-whie the December sky gloomed
above, and the sleet swept over the hills of the
Delaware - have drawn near the farm house
window, and looked in upon that Christmas
hearth, and drank in the full beauty Of That scene
you would confess with me that though this
world has many beautiful scenes-much of the
strangely beautiful in poetry-yet there, by that
hearth, centered and frightened and burned that
poetry, which is most like Heaven, THE Poetry
OF HOME.
You have all heard the story OF the convict
who stood the gallows, embruted in crime
stepped to the lips in blood-stood there knocking
at the preacher prayer, mockng even the hang
man When suddenly, as he stood with the rope
about his neck-his head sunk-a single, burn
ing, scalding tear rolled down his cheek
g was thinking" SAID he, in broken voice
" was thinking OF the Christmas fire %
Yes, in that moment, when the preacher failed
to warn, when even the hangman could not awe
"a thought came over the convicts heart of that
time, when father and his children, in far
land, gathered around their Christmas fire.
That thought melted his soul
g care not for your ropes and your gbbets''
he said, " But now, in that far land-there over
the waters-my father, my brothers, my sisters
are setting around their Christmas FIRE They
are waiting for me And am here-here upon
the scaffold "
Is there not deep poetry in the scene, that
could thus touch a murderer's soul and meltit
into tears?
And now, as the old man, his wife, his daugh-
tiers cluster around their fire, tell me, why does
that old mans head droop slowly down, his ewes
fill, his hands tremble
All, there is one absent from that Christmas
hearth
He is thinking of the absent one-his manly
brave boy, who has been gone from the farm -hous.
for year
But bark Even as the thought comes o,eS
him, the silence OF that ireside is broken bv a
faint cry-a faint moan, heard over the wastes OF
snow from afar.
The old man grasps lantern, and with that
young giri by his side, goes out upon the dark
night
Look there as following the sound Of that moan
they 50 softly over the frozen path how the
lantern flashes over their forms-oyer few
white PAGES OF frozen snow-while beyond All is
darkness
Sdll that moan, so low, so faint, so deep.toned.
quivers on the air
Something arrests the old mans eve tboro IN
the snow-they bend down he and his daughter
they gaze upon that sight
IL IS human Jootstep painted in the sno,c,
painted IN HUMAN BLOOD,
My child, whispers the old man tremulous-
~, g now pray to Heaven for Washington For
by this tootstep, stamped in blood, | Judge that
his army is passing near this place y
Sun that moan quivers on the air
Then the old man and that Young Girl. follow
ing those footsteps stained in blood -ore-two--
three-iolr-look how the red tokens crimson
the white snow following those bloody foot
prints; go on until they reach the rock, beetng
over the river shore.
There the lantern light flashes over the form
OF a balt-naked man, crouching down in the snow
freezing and bleeding to death
The old man looks upon that form clad in the
ragged uniform OF the Continental army, the slit
tened fingers grasplng tha battered musket. He
called to him-the young girl knelt. and Won NAV
be sure there were tears in her eyes-chaled her
brothers. hands-ah, they were stiff and cold =
And when she could not warm them ga,hered
them to her young bosom, and went her fearsnp.
on his dying face. Suddenly that brother raised
his head-he extended his hand towards the riv.
Look THERE, FATHER - he said. in his
husky voice. And bending down over the rock
the old man looked tar over the river
lhere, under the dark sky a feet of boa,s
were tossing amid piles of floating ice A tIee,
oil boats bearing men and arms, and extending in
irregular lines from shore to shore And tbelas
boat OF the fleet that boat Just leaving tbe west
ern shore OF the Delaware the old man saw that
100 ana saw-eyen through the darknese- Won
'al form, nall mutfied in warriors cloak win
grey war-horse by his side. "''"
dS not that strange sight to see at dead of
hignt' on dark river, under darker skv
ne olu man turned to his dying son to ask the
meaning OF this mystery.
Father" gasped the brave bow. tottering 70
ms leel' Father, give mo nv musket-heln
me oh-help me down the river-for 10. niebtr
for to- night -"
as mat word was on his lip-he fell He fell.
ana lay there, stiff and cold. Sill on b;s IinS
'nere hung some family spoken words.
,,. ne ola man-that fair gir-bent down-thev
listened 70 those words ''
-NIGHT-W ashlngton-the Brifeh %
nght-TRENTON %
ton 20 he died. % us ups" rem
Inc old man did not know the meaning NJ ,ba,
word' until the next morning. Then tbera ,"os
the sound OF musketry to the south tbon 80
ing along the Delaware, came the roar Of hsttIe
Then, that old man, with his wife and cbiidssn
ga'hering round the body OF that dead bov Lnew