Daily American organ. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1856, 1855-03-24
NUMBER llO.
The Two Pictures.
BY coArEs-KINNEY.

/
As the day came up struggling with the gloom
Of clouds, the vanguard had given alarm Of that
onslaught which, before the day was done, should
make Inkermann second only to Waterloo.
Through the ioggy, drizzly dark, had burst the
blare of bugles, and drums, and ffes and rattling
musketry and the transition from sleep to battle
had been transient interval Of CONSERVATION not
the CONSERVATION of cowardice, however but of
sudden surprise
TO arms! To the sommoning martial music
drums, whose hurried roll, and flies, whose thrill
ing shrek make the blood beat and surge in the
veins--to the glorious martial music, man after
man, column after colum, company after company.
they wheel into array. Swiftly and nightly, as
though hurled by the power of thunder, horse and
plumed rider sweep over the field and along the
lines, bearing the hoarse, loud command !; and
quick as thought there follow charges and eyou
tons, and sublime preparations for blood
Oi the battle Of Inkermann would have been
splendid sight to see In broad field and a bright
sun. But the nature of the ground and the dark
ness of the day rendered it impossible to take in
more than small scene of the grand and terrible
drama at one view. Many heroic deed was per-
formed that day, in obscure and solitary places,
that left no record but DEATH If you found, in
some gloomy glen, flush harvest Of carnage
corpses lying thick sheaves after the sickles--
i you knew there had been great achievements
there but they will not iumine the pages of his
tory for their memory sleeps in the burial
trenches with those who died enacting them.
Thirst Of glory, such as is slaked by blood, had
lured young Cecil Gray from his happy home in
old England, to the camp and the field He was
an officer in the Fifth Dragoons; and as we have
an interest in him now, let us watch the perform
ance of the Fifth on that day of Inkermann
Is It not they, yonder on the height? Let us
get nearer them for this dismal day is SO like twi-
light that we cannot distinguish the figure on their
i buttons. Yes, it is 8. What noble fellows! How
proudly they sit their horses With what an air
Of impatience they lean forward as the battles
din increases! How their nostrils diate with the
delay of opportunity
/ Which of them is Cecil Gay2 Do you see,
yonder at the right, that tall noble young officer
who is gazing, with looks Of unspeakable tender
ness, upon locket miniature, which he has just
drawn from his bosom? That is he; and the mi
mature is of--the name would choke his utterance,
If he attempted to speak 1T; for he is thinking of
the time-not many months ago, but, oh, how
ngl-when the origininal of that picture sobbed
on his breast, and cung to him with loves desper-
ation kissing him with most passoned kisses, and
pleading with him in Gods name not to go--oh,
not TO go!
| His lip quivers he brushes his hand across his
eyes; he closes the locket and replaces it in his
| bosom. If he were not agonizingy prayed for
with her every breath, of whom he Is now thinking,
we would say, God let him not sink on tile
battlefield to-day!
The Fifth had lost most of their infantry in the
beginning of the battle; for the Turkish foot their
main support, had fed at the first onset and there
| remained to them now only small division OF
Highlanders number quite insufficient to sustain
them. Yet, as the cannons thundered and the
muskets hailed the death around, the brave fel-
lows felt it like shame TO sit there idle while their
comrades were winning glory and every moment
they grew more eager, even without the support
OF infantry, for an occasion TO act.
Harkl the tramp of cavalry. Every rein Is
| UQltened ms hraa il Lad
with expectation. Up they come at fierce gall
| lop, as though they meant to sweep the height
at single pass. 1t is the Muscovi.esi Their
heavy, rushing pillows of horse dash full upon the
Highlanders, and are shocked back by The shore Of
bayonetts. They rally, and advance again, more
slowly aud detcrminedly.
! Then the buges Of the Fifth sound and the
fiery horses wheeled into order for the onset.
| Look at Cecil Gray he has forgotten the minia-
ture he has forgotten its original; he has forgot
ten the little cottage by the Thames, where che is
signing prayers to Heaven for him now he thinks
only OF glory. His breast heaves and pants. and
his hand clutches bis hilt, waiting for the neat sg
nal-twang.
Another blast of the bugles, and the whole
Fifth, instantly bristling MI with swords like
a single being, spring into the pas de charge. A
laundering hurricane OF battle, they swoop right
down on the advancing foe with the speed Of the
wind God Of heaven what a spectacle With
what sublimely terrific shock the two hostile
masses Of men aud horses crash together Sword
clangs on sword horse AID rider sink the sea OF
combat surges over them.
| The Fifth cut the foe through and through and
when their bugles sound the rally, they disregard
the signal, determined TO ght till they clear the
| field or die. Horse against horse with onset and
repulse, Saxon and Cossack, they cleaye one ano-
ther down, swaying to and fro like stormy sea
| Where Is Cecil GrayS Yonder is his plume
Watch It, II tosses above the thick Of the fight
I IA .1.w, las.
in the smoke Of pistols. II emerges. We loso
i sight Of II again. Yonder once more il flies along
the 6eld like splendid bird Of prey, that kills
\ It's quarry, but stops not 20 deyour. Swords leap
| up above and around Il; other plumes nod and
sink around II; rdeiess horses whirl away 'front.',
and roll down. and surge, and struggle, and die in
the overwhelming billows Of battle. But that
| plume, and the sword which goes with It. cease
not for an instant in their sublime career.
The wounded French Chasseur who reclines on
his elbow here nigh US, watching that plume, for.
| gets his pain, and calculates, I" Cea superbe /"
/ And II Is superb; II Is glorions
But now that plume Is the dreadful centre Of a
vortex Of foes, which dashes upon II, upon
| lone sail the foam-capped whirlpool in the sea.
/ Other plumes fly to the rescue. Sabres fash up
thick and fast, and chop down into fiery brains,
and and thrust, aud stab, and mix In ahorii
| BILE turmoil OF heroic desperation
/ We close our eyes tightly, with shuddering
sickness and faintness, aud, when we open them
on the scene again, the Russians are in total rout
and the gallant Fifth In rally with shout and hurra!
| But the plume of Cecil Grays IL Is gonel The
prayers which have kept going up to Heaven from
1.-THE cottage by the Thames have not been answered
That plume bowed to death, and went down while
/ we were shutting our eyes
How gloiiously he died On the field they found
him, the evening Of that day, with monument Of
slaughtered heroes piled up to his glory And as
his surviving comrades sPadcd him grave, and
wrapped his cloak around him, and laid him TO hts
rest they talked animatingly Of his herosm and
then they spoke falteringly Of one who
"No more of that, my comrade y said be who
had been his bosom friend, in choking voice.
There n be had taken the locket from the neck
Of the dead clipped with his sword lock from the
heros hair, and shut IL over the miniature, " that
shall be her tidings!-and may--God-pity and---
comfort her ~