The Alleghanian. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1859-1865, 1862-11-13

| uoWu luIo lne fdiley VI Hnlte dwellings
with great, well-filled barns of red bricl
mills of straw colorcd plowed fields, dot
ted with shocks of corn, aud jutting fa
up into the dark, hill side woods of green
sward fields, mott,ed with orchards, shade
| trees and browsing cattle, threaded lit
tie, shining stream. A dim haze rests OIL
! the mountain guarded picture; and the
soft wind seems to sing with Whittier:
'Yet calm ard patient, Nature keeps
Her ancient promise well,
Tho Ger her bloom and greenness sweeps
The battles breath of hell
':And still she walks in golden hours
Through harvest-happy farms;
And still she wears her fruit and flowers,
Like jewels on her arms.
.'Still in the cannons pause we hear
Her sweet Thanksgiving psalm,
Too near to God for doubt or fear,
She shares the eternal calm
There are the regiments on dress pa
rade long, double lines of dark blue, with
bright bayonets flashing in the waning
sunlight. Each, AS it is dismissed, breaks
into companies, which move off towards
their quarters by the flank looking from
here like dark, monstrous antediluvian
reptiles of many legs.
Upon a distant hillside, just on the
edge OF the forest modest group OF tents,
are Burnside's headquarters. You see,
through your field glass, standing in front
of them the Major General himself; the
military man with a limit to his ambition,
who refused to accept the chief command
of the army. Burnside, the tavoIite of
the troops, in his blue shirt, knit jacket,
and riding boots, with his fine, frank face,
and his full, laughing eye.
Further to the left, III the midst of the
valley, you note dense little village of
tents. They are M'Clellan's headquar-
ters. At the time of Stuarts raid they
were on the other side of the mountain,
away from all the troops. The dashing
Rebel passed only five or six miles from
them, but he did not know what prize
was within his grasp. The next day
headquarters were removed to their pres
ent location.
In the valley, the sun is setting the
shadows, a mile long, have crept half
across it. Here, on the nights, We have
longer lease of day.
To the north east rises solitary church
spire, cut off midway by an intervening
mountain. 1t ddletown, Nd, II miles
distant. To the north and west, your eye
sweeps around over "a level section Of
country, with thrifty farm houses and col
umns of rising smoke, past Frederick,
Boonsboro', Sharps5urg, and Williams
port, to the Potomac. South of it, the
conspicuous buildings of Shephardstown,
Martinsburg Charlestown, behind its
narrow fringe Of woods; our balloon Of
observation high in the air, but still! far
below you; and so your eye reaches the
Shenandoah, at the foot of Loudon Heights,
disappearing toward the southwest.
Nearer, under your very feet, are Boli-
var Heights, looking not ike a hill, but
broad plateau crowned with the tents of
Couchis corps, dinged by their long cam
paigns, like a spring snowdrift through
which the dirt is beginning to sit
Leading to them Is the steep street
through the village of Bolivar, which
here seems perfectly level; then Harpers
Ferry, and glimpses of the Potomac,
goidening i'll the sunset, with trees, rocks,
and walls mirrored IN its mellow face
The sun disappears; the gold Of the
western hills turns to silver; the evening
air is cold and piercing. You de-
sceend the nights, and relapse into the
routine Of daily life; but the picture you
have seen is one which memory paints in
fast colors.