The New Orleans crescent., 1869-01-17
sUPERNATURAL VISION sF DEATH.
REMARKABLE CASE OF LIEUT.. HENRY POLLARD.

distance Of about eight hundred miles apart
One at Alta Vista, the residence of Major Richsrc
/ Pollafd, In the Green Mountains of Albemsris
county, Va. the other at frontier military pos
OF the United States on the western boundary Of
Texas-not, Is now, Incorporated in the Union
| A detachment of about two hundred men IN the
Ninth regiment of infantry and few dragons
were there In garrison, with the usual compleme
Of officers. Among the latter was Lieut.. Henry
Pollard, remarkably fine and intelligent young
man of about twenty five years Of age. Towards
the cloee of the day of the 18th of May 1884, the
clear ringing notes of bugle announced the hQur
for dinner, and Immediately after the officers were
gathered round the mess table, buoyant with
health, and In their accustomed harmony and
owship-conditons under which they
there met for the last time.
| At the time now referred to Major Pollard was
absent at Santiago, in Chill, where he had been
| sent by the United States government on special
mission, whioh involved reparation for the cap.
ture Of the frigate Essex, Commodore Porter.
| lsl2-'l4, by two English vessels-the Phoebe and
| Cherub. This action was fought within gunshot
| OF the batteries of the port, and witnessed by
| thousands of spectators who crowded the shores.
| II was unequaled by any Of the war for the per-
tinacity of The attack and defense. When Com.
modore Porter ordered his colors to be struck
and surrendered himself q prisoner of war on
1board the PbGbe, very few OF his men were left
ft for duty nearly every officer was disabled,
and not less than one hundred and forty of the
crew were killed outright or seriously wounded.
Such number, In proportion, is not recorded ia
any other naval engagement. The Essex was re.
duced TO a perfect wreck.
During the absence Of her husband. Mrs. Pol.
lard, leaving the entire management of the plan
taton to the overseers. occupied herself with the
education of her children, who were under the
tuition of the Rev. Mr.. Brown, a gentleman from
Massachusetts,. He was q profound scholar, and
beng without church, had accepted the Office OF
tutor In the family. remaining in it, including q
residence at Old Ridge, between eight and
nine years. As now, Mrs. Pollard had then a
great fondness for flowers, and passed much of
her time amongst them-a lady of wonderfully
pleasing and graceful manners, a highly culti-
waited mind, and particularly free from anything
OF superstitious nature. | mention this for evi.
dent reasons, which will appear in connection
asd ssudss was In e q bs @ss ssf
wants OF tne house, would frequently pass an hour
or more before breakfast ip the garden and the
grounds adjacent. At isztine she was in the
prime Of lite, and retained much of that personal
beauty for which in her premiere eunesse she had
been remarkable.
The early morning of the 18th of MAY, 1884.
was one OF those for which the spring season in
that part OF Virginia Is perhaps nowhere ex.
celled. Nothing can surpass the delicious
softness OF May daybreak in the Green Noun
tains. You see an almost cloudless sky, and are
conscious OF a temperature voluptuousy soft and
fraDqulllzing. The fragrance of thousand flow
ers fills the air. At intervals you may hear, as If
to present more striking interest the notes of
sopgster of the grove, or the tanning of gen.
tie breeze may stir the leaves and branches of en-
circlng woods lprefer to give, as received from |
MIS-. Poilards own lips, and as nearly as possible
In her own words, what now follows, delivered /
with an uncomfortable emotion, which frequently /
interrupted the thread of the narration.
left the house, she said. "a on the morning |
above indicated quite early, before 6, as noticed
by the clock when passing through the hall. | |
crossed the lawn TO the garden, and not seeing
uncle Ben, Zone OF the negro gardeners,) ex-
pressed surprise. as he was usually very regular
D. bis work, and my astonishment was not lessened
1t hearing Martha exclaim, 'Missis, there's Uncle
Ben over yondef in the graveyard (The family |
cemetery lay Immediately beyond the garden.) ]
iirected my steps towards II to see what he was
ioing, ss it seemed strange he should be there in
'iesd OF in the garden. / said, Uncle Ben, what
orings you here this morningg' He reminded me
hat few days before had told him to pluck
way some weeds which were growing up about
be tomb OF my dear little Lucy. / noticed. too,
hat he had swept and smoothed the surround.
pg ground. The morning was 80 delightful. |
be air 80 serene, that | felt tempted TO pass |
ut through the cemetery to the fields intending
return by the same way, and told Uncle Ben |
OF to lock the gate, as | should do so.
" was led to continle my walk beyond what |
'as my usual custom; but presently peculiar
ensaton. as If impelled by some underlined infiQ.
nee, came upon me, and began to feel very
rge gate, through which now decided 10 return |
the house-the shortest way. In fact. An over.
oWering sense OF sadness oppressed me, and
nee or twice was compelled to stop. At length ,
spproached the aspen tree which stands by the
de OF the private road. just without the gate. I
hen, Judge of my horror at seeing, lying beneath
my poor boy Henry At his side were a cloak. a /
- and sash. saw blood oozing from his neck. | !
is features bore an expression indicative of in
nse pain, though calm and tranquil. | instinc. I
Vely moved towards him. when be waved his !
md as If to say adieu A faint smile seemed 20 4
ruggle through the agony under which he ap. D
Jared to be laboring. 4
" In the room which you and Rose now occupv i
'ound myself lying on a couch. The curtains | 4
ere drawn, and surrounding objects were at first !
N and indstinct. Presently distinguished the | I,
rms OF the children, Virginia, Minnie and Rose n
,se then little fairy in her fifth year. She had Z
asped my hand. At the farther part of the | n
ON were several of the servants weeping NV n
81 exclamation, as Virginia afterwards told me- | IN
IS My darling children, poor Henry Is dead Al
u VIII never see your brother again. Between al
interval OF my vision, for know not what .,
e to call il, aud return to consciousness. Vir ~
ia and Minnie had gathered from the servants ii
y near the aspen tree. as was about to turn in :
the gate, had suddenly stopped, cried out the in
me ls &C. oi my son, and then became insensbe.
III the assistance Of others. Immediately sum. al
nee, they bad borne me TO the house in state | la
utter prostraton. To this day have not ,h
'med II prudent or advisable TO communicate RI
my children what saw on that dreadful morn. 70
F; and bad 1t not been that my first expression. M
q return of consciousness, was OF Henry's ",
th, not word would have escaped me on the 90
Ject. Within my own breast it would have | AZ
u concealed until confirmed or proved TO be m
cal. But, so far as they could connect any. so
y with 1t, they urged me TO disabuse nv mind m,
he impression, and that when the post arrive a.,
should hear he was alive and well. They pre-. ~
1ed they had dreamt it, and that, like the N
dows OF q dream. all would pass happily away. -,
lowed them so to think, fully convinced. how. Wi
r, that their brother was no longer Ia this fs,
|
A fortnight or more had passed, when to the ma
)rise OF every one, uncle Isham made his an. an,
rance. TO me the news Of his arrival seemed be
g q death-blow. Preceded by the children. Ans
snt TO the piazza to see him. Virginia outran saI
others, end ! heard her say, where's your ma
ter Harryp Massey Henry gone dead, missy, for
replied and the poor slave burst into tears. Soc
7 moment he continued. They sent me home eel
a Vista. and told me 10 take this letter TO nv hes
is' He then produced from a cloth, in which ma
had carefully wrapped it. letter, together dar
a small sealed packet. The letter proved 10 hnt
rom one OF Henry's brother officers. | have ten
re now, and viii read 1t to you. It was dated ser
ort Madison, on the Rio Grande, 18th of May, pro
I
Dear Mdddn-It has fallen TO my lot to the
municate TO you most sad news. Your son roa
U lQfa ortox o~.l O. /. | 4