Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1863-01-07

\ fS 1850 WI - - -
in all thy ways" A -
.You will keep itg, 81
/ sssAlways..
Z A huskiness was in his voice; DO wal
ted moment. "
a"Little May, l had hoped to call you
my wife some day, but-well you will
be taken care of if never come back"
his voice failed, he broke down utterly.
Heavy clouds weighed down the night
sky, and their darkness fell through the
swaying trees upon his bowed head.
At length he had gone May me
chemically drew her shawl about her
shiveripg9 form; she was very coM,) yet
the night was warm.
- She knew little of ron1ances, and did
not care that she was playing part in
lifes drama, that Charlotte Bronte might
have woy.n into the pain heated glow of
her passionate tales. - ~ ~ sA5 @'er
May only knew that she loved this
man, and he had gone from her, she
thought, to die. She walked up to the
house with q low wall on her lips; the
dreary night and the coming storm closed
around her.
The mantle Of midnight fell upon the
rebel camps. The gittering tent lights
falling on stacked arms and idle groups
of soldiers, had disappeared, and left
only tho white outlines Of the ghostly
camp, looming up into the night. The
regular tramp, tramp Of the distant SEN
tinels broke enormously upon the air;
other sound there was none, and the
thousands whom to morrow's drum
would call into the glare and din of bat
tie, the thousands who were sleeping
their last sleep, tie Thousands of anx-
ious Housekeeping hearts, were set at
Test. Strange, that the soul on the eve
of an untried eternity can be left uncon-
scious of the terrible change awaiting it.
WHY do those goddess nen dream so of
their goddess lives, thinking, caring for
no other! and yet this Struggling star
light as it falls through the mist will be
the last that shall smile upon them. Is
there no voice-no sign to tell them that
the death they have looked on from alar,
is upon their track?
A man was sitting alone at the door Of
his tent, watching his sleeping comrades,
dimly wondering thus, sparing time from
his own forebodings of horror. Hast
ings knew that some grand movement
was in preparation, but that was all. If
he could have foreseen the terror which
shortly after fell upon the sorrowing
Norlh-If he could have known of the
days Of carnage and defeat, when Sec
end Manassas crushed into everlasting
silence the battle cries Of thousands OF
the soldiers to whom his heart reached
blindly through the dstance-if he had
known all this, heavier weight would
have rested upon bis heart. But he
knew enough to feel that his hour had
come.
To go into the conflict and refuse to
obey the orders of the Confederate Cap
tain would be certain death; escape was
the only chance. In the daylight this
was impossible, for he was never allowed
to leave the immediate vicinity of the
camp; he was never trusted on picket
duty, but was watched carefully and con-
stantly, for bis oppressors knew that no
uniform, though il bore the marks Of the
Confederaey, and was marched under
Southern coors, could stop the beating
of the loyal heart within, until daath
should still it, and the cause of freedom
count another martyr. The sentinels
passed to and fro ceaselesslv, and their
tread Knocked thevman SIS he stood out
alone and fearfully in the darkness. The
stars had pity on him, and hid their faces
under fast rising clouds of dense mist,
and wrapped in its folds hemade bis way
along the silent camp. Down by the
nearest boundary Of the lines, he knew
q swamp--a dark, forbidding place it
was, with deep pools Of sluggish water,
and black, yielding turf. His keen eye
had marked all this, when he had been
sent once with q squad of men to get
water at spring near by. This was a
point seldom guarded, the swamp was
held as impossible Perhaps it was, to
Northerners; but he had been farmers
boy among just such, all his life, and
found his way many times through their
dangers, when he went to cut wood in
the great forests. The clinging mist
gathered close around him rs be reached
the spot; he saw no sentinel, he heard
no sound. A brightness was in his eye,
bis color came and went feverishIy. He
could see the brave boys who, followed
Mcclellan, could SEQ, himself among
them, with bis face turned towards the
traitors, and this same musket in bis
hand-how it grew hot in bis grasp at
this thought; he felt already free ha! a
voice from the night-"Halt~ The
man was for an instant paralyzed; the
fear of death griped him with an iron
ho!d-be listened for the click Of the
gun-should he go on--on to Freedom
ard the Flag! but-May, no, she would
rather he would die nobly-it was dark
the shot might miss. All this dashed
through his mind with the rapidity with
which men will think when ''life struck
sharpen death makes awful lightning"
He darted through the mist with great
leaps. he reached the edge of the mo-
rass-there was fash--a sharp cry,
and the sentinel turned away with an