The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-01-13

entrance to the park. It is bounded, as all
the others are, by low hedge of aromatic
shrubs and flowers About half mile off,
In southernly direction, are rows of negro
cabins, and within q convenient distance of
them stands two-story brick house, occu-
pied by the overseer of the plantation and
his family.
At the time now referred to, Major Pol
lard was absent at Santiago in Chill, where
he had been sent by the United States Co
vernment, on q special mission, which in
volved reparation for the capture of the
frigate Essex, Commodore Porter, within
the harbor of Valparaiso, in the war of
1S1l-14, by two English vessels, the PHI o,be
and Cherub.
During the absence of her husband, Mrs
Pollard, leaving the entire management of
the plantation to the overseers, occupied
herself with the education of her children,
who were under the tuition of the Rev. Mr..
Brown, gentleman from Massachusetts
He was profound scholar and being with
out a church, had accepted the office of
ing residence at Oak Ridge, between eight
and nine years. AS now, Mrs. Pollard had
great fondness for flowers, and passed
much of her time amongst them. A lady
of wonderfully pleasing and graceful man
ners, of highly cultivated mind, and par
ticularly free from anything of superstitious
nature. 1 mention this for evident reasons,
which will appear in connection with this
story. She was in the habit of rising early.
and attended by some of the female SER
wants of the house, would frequently pass
an hour or more, before breakfast, in the
garden and the grounds adjacent at this
time she was in the prime of life, and re-
tained much of that personal beauty for
which In her premiere jeuneSSe she had been
remarkable.
The early morning of the 18th of Nav,
1884, was one of those for which the spring
season, in that psrt Of Virginia, is perhaps
nowhere excelled. Nothing can surpass the
delicious softness of May day-break in the
Green Mountains. Yon see an almost cloud
less sky, and are conscious of temperature
voluptuously soft and tranquilzing. The
fragrance of n thousand flowers fills the air.
At intervals, you may hear, as if to present
a more striking interest, the notes of q
''songster of the grove;" or the tanning of
gentle breeze may stir the leaves and
branches of encircling wood. I prefer to
give. as received from Mrs. Pollard's own
lips, and as nearly as possible in her own
words, what now follows, delivered with nm
uncomfortable emotion which frequently
interrupted the thread of the narration
II left the house," she said, ION the
morning above indicated, quite early, be-
fore 6, as I noticed by tho clock when
passing through the hall. I. crossed the
lawn to the garden, and not seeing Uncle
Ben, Zone of the negro gradeners,) 1 ex-
pressed surprise, as he was usually very
regular at his work; and my astonishment
was not lessened Mt hearing Martha ex-
claim, "Missis, there's Uncle Ben over yon-
der in the graveyard CThc family GENE
terry lay Immediately beyond the garden J
l directed my steps towards it, to see what
he was doing, as it seemed strange he
should be there instead of in the garden.
said, "Uncle Ben. what brings you here
this morning?" He reminded me that q
few weeks before / had told him to pluck
away some weeds which were growing up
about the tomb of my dear little Lucy. /
noticed. too, that he had swept and
smoothed the surrounding grounds The
morning was SO delightful the air SO serene,
that felt tempted to pass out through the
cemetery to the fields, intending to return
by the same way, and L told Uncle Ben not
to lock the gate, as / should do so.
II was led to continue my walk beyond
what was my usual custom, but presently q
peculiar sensation, as if impeled by some
underlined influence, came upon me, and
began to feel very nervous I hastened tc
the path leading to the large gate, through
which now decided to return to the house
the shortest way, in fact. An overpower
ing sense of sadness oppressed me, and
once or twice / was compelled to stop. Al
length / approached the aspen tree which
stands by the side of the private road, Just
without the gate, when, judge of my hor.
ror at seeing, lying beneath it, my poor boy
Henry. At his side were cloak, cap anG
sash. saw blood oozing from his neck
His features bore an expression indicative
of intense pain, though calm and tranquil
[ instinctively moved towards him. when
he waved his hand, as if to say. adieul
faint smile seemed to struggle through the