The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1876-03-02

too, Harry and l played our romplng
games-'Bread and Butter, come to Sup
per- Hide and Seek 'Blind-man's Buff
and many others. Above ALL. it was in
mothers room we were first taught to
seek our Father in Heaven. Then let it
remain untouched, mother, your children
love to dwell upon the happy hours spent
in mothers room.'" And thus it was, in
answer to the young girls gentle plead
ing, those two rooms retained their usual
home-like aspect.
Yes, there was to be a leave-taking, and
a sad one, too, at Berkley Hall. Sher-
mans march to the sea, his capture OF
Savannah, and an urgent letter from
Harry, now an Adjutant in Hoods Army,
had determined Mrs. Maham to seek for
herself and daughter place of safety in
the upper portion of their State, and the
26th of December was the day appointed
for them to leave the old plantation.
Christmas night we find Marion Maham
alone in the library of Berkley Hall; her
mother, overcome with sorrow and IA
tigue, had retired early to rest, and left
to Marion the duty, lovingly and readily
undertaken, of replying to Harry's letter.
Let us take peep at the woman with
whom four years before we parted an
imaginative schoolgirl. Just seventeen,
she was universally admitted to be a
beauty, and as she sat in the handsome
old library musing over Harry's unan-
swered letter, the picture presented was
one which painter would have delight
ed to place upon canvass. Handsome
book-shelves, filled with works from the
pens of the best writers, were placed
around the room; suspended from the
walls hung likenesses of favorite authors,
of heroes and Of statesmen, interspersed
with historical sketches and fine land
scapes-everything, books, engravings
and paintings were selected with the
taste and intelligence of an amateur.
Nearly in the centre Of the room was a
large flower-stand, filled with the rarest
and most beautiful exotics, many of them
even at that cold Christmas season in
luxuriant blossom. A bright fire burned
upon the hearth, which, with the shaded
light of a students lamp and the rich
crimson of the damask curtains, made
bright and changing pictures on every
thing around but the fairest picture and
the sweetest flower in that old sanctum
was the 'fLily of Santee," as her friends
often called her. Her form was of the
medium height, slender and graceful, her
hair of the darkest brown, so dark that,
except when seen in the sunlight, would
be called black, hung in luxuriant masses
of loose ringlets over her shoulders, shad-
ing her face and lending additional soft
ness and purity to her exceedingly white
complexion; her mouth was very sweet,
its chief charm lay in the archness which
was ever lurking around her cherry lips (;
but it was on her broad, white brow, and
in the light of her inexpressibly beauti-
full eyes, you read the womanly indepen-
dence, perfect truthfulness, noble hero
ism and rare intelligence of the yet only
partially developed girl. Although of q
fanciful and poetic temperament, mirth-
fulness had been a predominant feature
in her conversation and manners, but the
family bereavement had tended much to
soften her gaiety, and gave new charm
to her exquisitely lady-like department.
To leave Berkley Hall, the happy home
of her childhood, and in her girlish fancy
the Eden of earth, was sore trial, and
in the mingled expression of impatience
and sorrow on her frank, sweet face, we
gather the crude and fitting thoughts Of
the girls heart.
"Ah," she suddenly exclaimed, show
it chafes my spirit to desert old Berkley
If the enemy are coming why should
we run? Such was not the fashion of
our grandmothers in the old heroic days
of 1776. I long to emulate their hero
ism, and not be a recreant to the blood
that flows in my veins! 0, I know I am
only a girl, and woman's work lies at
home! 1t is true we cannot be soldiers
to buckle on the sword and rush into the
conflict, neither can we share the weary,
weary march under the burning suns Of
summer, or over the snow-coyered roads
of winter, but surely we may stand by
our own hearthstones and under our own
roeftrees, trusting in an Almighty Arm
to defend the cause of truth and justice
Even Harry urges our leaving home. I
cannot think what has come over him
our fCeur de Lion,' as mother used to
call him--he who ever scorned cowardice
even in woman, now bids us run! And
what an undertone of melancholy fore
boding there is in his letter! If 1 did
not know the writer's heart to be SO
brave, it would seem to whisper fear
But, oh, no, it cannot be it is only fear
for us, his loved ones, all alone at Berk-
ley. He does not, he cannot fear for the
success of Southern arms! Dear, pre-
cious brother, soldier nearly four years
and scarce man! What youthful
veteran is our Harryp'
So mused the warm-hearted girl, when
the old clock in the hall IAN heirloom
from one of the Huguenot fathers) strik-
ing twelve, reused her from her reverie
"Midnightw she exclaimed, "and Har'
ry's letter not answered"