The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1877-1885, 1879-10-23
THE FARMER AND MECHANIC.

upOn his arrival at the NOTtH. ""o
made a brigadier. but grew sick OF playing
the renegade and left the army. =
Lieut.. r. K. Meade, Of Virginia one OF
the Sumpter officers. on reaching New York,
retired to an obscure boarding house to
avoid the praise Of men who were breathing
threatenings and slaughter against ms PEG
pie. Enlistlng as a Southern soidler' ne
was slain at Gaines Mil in 1862, While
driving back the command of a former COM
rade, Abner Doubleday, who was gwen a
major generals commission as ms reward
TIE "sTARs AND BARS.
The Confederates on entering Fort stump
ter beheld a sad spectacle OF rum and desc
lation. The blackened and shattered walls,
the smouldering embers of the burnt BAR
racks, the dismantled guns, the fragments OF
shot and shell, the bloody parade. with the
wounded Federals undergoing surgical treat
ment, laid bare the first chapter OF war $
desolation to unaccustomed eyes. j.,
Gen. Beauregard and Gov. Plckens, with
their brilliant stats, the Justices OF the Su-
preme Court, Acknowledgement Hayne,
President Jamison, Judge Magrath, and
many others, assembled to the ramparts,
where their appearance called forth Wild
| shouts from all sides of the harbor, accom-
panied by screaming steam whistles, and a
salvo of honor from all the batteries amid
| which the Confederate and palmetto flags
were simultaneously hOisted over the tort.
AS evening approached the ordinary quiet
of the Southern Sabbath fell upOn the
| scene the mulritudes scattering to their
| homes with weary relief, and thanktulness
for the happy termination OF the trouble.
Some conception OF the general feeling may
be had from the remarks OF the venerable
| Episcopal Bishop, wholly blind, and SO
weak that he was supported to the sacred
| desk by two of his ministers. He had come
| abide the worst. Your boys were there,
and mine We're there, and it was right that
:ithey should be there. Still our hearts
'Sinly bled the strong man as we'll as the
tender woman for we were not children,
I'VE knew what we were doing, we had
counted the cost, and weighed it In Oul
''souls. And how marvellous hath been
Goods doings! How wonderful his mercy
"OW children hare wdned amid the .frt
"oad escaped unhm5 ! To thy name, oh
Lord, be everlasting Glory"
THE FIRST SHOT, n LAST!
A small detachment Of Col. Ripley's COM
mand, with the firemen, were left in charge
of the smouldering ruins during the night.
As the vessel conveying the dignitaries tc
the city, moved off amid the gathering twi
| light, any one looking back might have
| seen, on the surfwashed rocks, just outside
the shattered portal, a quaint solitary figure,
an cid man leaning upon his musket; bis
long white hair sweeping his shoulders
across which a grey blanket was twisted in
soldier fashion. He stood motionless as the
dark wall behind him, seemingly lost il
revere, watching the white-capped- waves as
tossed by the night-wind they rose ana
cleshed in fierce contention. Of what was
he thinking? Did he see typiied in the
growing tumult of the waters the coming
sea of troubles Ger the land? Who
knows?
It was the venerable Edmund Ruffn, Of
Virginia. He had just fired the first shot
for Southern independence, and had sworr
to fire the last,-if needs be. Brave, rash,
high-tempered old man, he kept his word
When the end came, when to Appomattox
was added B~entonsville and A~verasboro,
when President Davis lay in shackles, ane
many Southern politicians went upon thei
knees to disayow their birth-right, for the
pottage mess, he arranged his affairs, bad,
farewell to his friends, and fired the las
shot-with an old Confederate musket. It,
aim was his own heart