Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1859-09-10
mtsteIIaneous .
AFTER BATTLE.

-
Death leaves little trace behind him. After
drowoings, which suddenly sever the dearest ties,
the murderous stream flows on as smooth as ever.
The sea. which has swallowed whole ships at noon.
will at evening glance and smile in the setting sun
with oil apparent innocence even by the land
the trace Of carnage disappears with marvellous
r%apidity. AT first the very next day after battle,
the contested ground may offer a terrible and Of
fecting aspect. You will see lying among the
wheat, stretched by the roadside or fallen againsi
the trunks of trees, corpses still contorted by the
agonios Of death. This is the brief interval when
the scene it still strewed with wagons smashed in
to chips, and the mutilated carcases of cavalry
horses. But in three or four days it is all cleared
away. A passing stranger, unenlightened 10y a
guide. would never suspec. that The fiery temre
of war had so lately burst over that verdant spot.
The battle Of Montabello began near Noghera.
Here and there along the road a few mulberry
brancheShave been cut of ny the bullets. a cir
cular cut on the trunk Of a tree tells you that q
cannon ball has flown in that direction the cor.
ner of a wall is shattered the plaster of a cot
tase has fallen off in scalej o squa re Of glass i,
broken in a window, or a shutter is pierced with
two or three round holes. Meanwhile the COW
peaceably grazes the waRside grass, the washer
woman rinses linen-not her own, but shirts OF
strange fashion, at the edge of the brook the
plow-man drives his slow-paced oxen ; the house
wife spins her flax, her children ale merrily roll
ing in a corner at the door of the inn the bcgsar
stretches out his hand, whining his accustomed
nasal petition.
The energies Of earth rapidly screen, beneath
a luxuriant garment of emerald green, the tempo
rary mischief caused by man. While admiring
the picturesque coquetry of nature--her clumps
of trees mingled with scattered buildings, her
wide extended plains, whose horizon is guarded
by the phantom forms of Mont Cents, Mont &C.
nevre, Mont Blanc and Monte Rosa, her rows of
poplars ~fringing the Pc, a reach of which starts
forth from its bowery hiding place to glance 10
the sunshine-who could believe he was treading
the theatre of war ? OF the deadly struggle
ef Monticello scarcely a trace will soon remain.
Here and there only the wheat is trodden down
over considerable space the t~rampled corn be-
trays the passage Of artillery the trained vines
are broken with gaps, or the stem of a young tree
has snapped asuhder. A gaiter, a collar, the
wreck of a soldiers cap, lie half hidden in the
grass suudry clods of earth, by the side Of a
furrow, are stained with an unusual tinge Of red
you examine them more closely, they are soaked
and saturated with blood. There, amid the vine
leaves, wet with dew, hang the tatters Of an Aus
trisn waiscoat its cloth is stifened in places with
brick red spots. In q shady corner lie the re-
mains of q horse. And that is all, except that in
the cemetery are a couple oflarge graves contain
ing the bodies of the Aussriaus who fell in their
last retreat. Patches of fresh earth indicate the
.uo., ,rIora e,,pdry Ioldiars r laid tn toke their
FINAL rest. But goats and sheep bieat around as
ii nothing had happened, and the laughing girls
fill their sacks with mulberry leaves for the rear
ing Of silk worms, which whether in peace or war,
must still be fed.-Dickens "AH He Year Round. d"