Clarksville chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1857-1865, 1858-06-25
CHAPTER I.


In the valley of Virginia, on one Of
those inclined planes which slope off from
the Blue Ridge, and from which issue those
transparent streams that, like clear con-
science, conceal nothing from view, lived
Mr.. Charles Berne--s gentleman in the
broadest sense Of the term The eminence
upon which stood his handsome dwelling,
commands an interesting view Of the cir
cumjaoent country. To the east, and i'm
mediately in the rear Of the house, stands
the Blue Ridge, whose towering height
forms striking contrast with the numerous
smaller mountains, to be seen in every
direction. South river washes the western
base of the hill, aud may be traced, for
miles down the valley, by the we'll cultiva-
ted farms that lie ON either side of its
winding course. In its needless haste to
swell its Importance by junction with
majestic transmontane river, it runs head
long against one hill, and, by the violence
Of the shock, is driven, almost at right
angles, against another, until, like con-
ceited little coxcomb, elbowing his way
through crowd-it looses its identity in
the great mass to which it hoped to give
Importance.
A few miles to the South, and on the
west bank of this river, stands the little
town of Waynesborough, famous, at that
day, for mint-juleps and quarter races
At this point, diverged the two great
thoroughfares leading into the valley of
the Mississippi-the one through Tennes-
see, and the other, through Kentucky
On this latter route, are the celebrated
watering places, which abound in the
valley.
1t is not our intention, however, to give
the geography of this beautiful section,
nor to attempts description of the endless
variety of scenery, with which the lavish
hand of nature has adorned it. The reader
must, therefore, call upon his own i'm
agination to delineate accurately, that
which we could, at BEST but rudely sketch.
1t is questionable, indeed, whether the
most minute descriptions serve any other
purpose than to stimulate the readers
fancy which, at last, gives its own coloring
to the scenes attempted to be described
Mr.. Berne lost his wife when his only
child-Helen--wa but two years old and
the strong resemblance she bore to her
mother, made the daughter doubly dear to
the father who ever cherished the memory
Of his wife with devotion, few can feel,
and fewer still, appreciate. From the
secluded mountain glens, would he gather
such wild flowers as his romantic disposi-
ton converted into emblcms of her purity
and, with his own hand, arrange them in
the most tasteful manner upon and around
her grave, near which he would set, foI
hours together, gazing upon the narrow
tenement beneath whose green arch re.
posed her mouldering form.
Though but twenty-eight years of age
at the death Of his wife, Mr. Berne would
never listen to the suggestion of his friends
that he should marry again, as the surest
means of promoting his own happines.
and the welfare of his daughter. Ant
the shade of sadness that rested upon hi.
usually cheerful countenance, Whenever
the subject was alluded to, admonished hi,
advisers to drop the theme, never again Il
be resumed Upon his daughter, he seem
ed to have concentrated his affections anl
TO make her a fac simile of his wife, be
came his most earnest wish But to ac
complish this purpose, he was not full,
aware of the importance of early training
at period when the mind seems to hay
no capacity beyond instinct. This to,
common error is the foundation of mucl
that is evil in human character, and th
after Developments are two often aseribe,
70 innate propensities when, in truth, tn
cause is to be found in those abiding i'm
pressions which are made at time whe
the mind is considered mere blank.
Mr., Berne had, however, arrived at ON
important truth, too often overlooked, tina