Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1884-07-01
Tales aud sketfhfs.
ACROSS rue MERIDIAN.

Kortland drew his horse to halt as he
breasted the brow of the hill. and lifted
the cap from his head that he might ENJOY
to the full the soft, delicious breeze. Per-
haps only one who like himself had newly
come from the crowded ampitheatre of the
lecture room of medical college, and
from daily witness of mental and physical
sufferings by the bedsides of its hospital
wards, could have felt, as did he. intensi-
fed by powerful contrast. the stiffness.
beauty and peace of what he looked on
1t was the field of one of the great
battles of the late war, ground made holy
by heroic blood = heroic. whether the
hearts which throbbed it forth were burst
ing with triumph or breaking with defeat.
So thought the young physician, as his
eyes wandered over the scene. discovering
few marks to indicate that once this valley
had seethed with fire and smoke and
struggling human forms, and the whole
air had been shrek of agony and strife
Twenty years had done their work, and
nature, which permits no desolation had
sown the furrowed land with grass and
blooming flowers, which swayed and
swung in the spring air as If in unison
with the humming of the bees above them.
But as he dismounted and led the horse
down the hill, he discovered traces of the
battle which had escaped his eye from
above. Now and then his horses boot
struck the rusty metal of dismantled
gun, buried beneath its brambles, and
further on he found himself in wilder
ness of little mounds marked here and
there with wooden slab, its inscription
effaced by the rains of many years.
AS Kortland rose from vain attempt to
decipher one of these, figure appeared
from the woods near by, and, after mo-
mentary pause of the first surprise of
seeing him, continued steadily TO advance
along the path which led within few
Yards of his side. The figure was that of
woman, poorly clad, but tall and grace
full, and moving with peculiar strength
and freedom of motion. Kortlhnd waited
until she was near him and then said:
81 beg your pardon, but can't you in
form me what graves are these Pr
The woman stopped abruptly as the
tones of the clear northern voice reached
her, and suddenly turned upon him, her
face, until then concealed beneath the rim
of coarse straw hat which she wore. 1t
was that of girl, brunette and brilliant,
Illuminated with a pair of glowing eyes,
which now fixed themselves upon him.
"You must have come from very far
away not to know whose are the graves
you are standing on" she said in voice
which did not owe its peculiar information
to the southern dialect in which she spoke.
"You are right" he replied, surprised
at her beauty and manner; ''my home is
as far away as the SHOWS of winter from
these southern flowers"
A look of intense bitterness entered the
girls face. .You are from the NORTH"
she said. 81 will tell you whose are the
graves upon which you are treading.
They are those of the rebels you defeat
ed,' proudly; ''they are those of the
martyrs, the heroes, who starved and
froze. who gave up home, family, wealth
and life in attempted protection of their
rights and freedom, and whom you of the
north, in your overpowering strength of
wealth and numbers, conquered and
killed. Yonder, upon the hill, are those
of my father and mother-he killed by
your bullets and she by the agony of his
since own the sacred earth in which they
rest. o! that | possessed the power to
protect their resting place from the insult
of Yankees presence"
Kortland looked into the girls flushed
and flashing face in very maze of aston
ishment, But her concluding words
aroused his anger. and he drew himself
up with the color mounting to his brows
Controlling himself with an effort he lifted
his cap, and bowling, said with cold cour-
tesy. in singular contrast to her fire:
THAT being the case, Mademoiselle.
shall not linger to bid adieu. But permit
me to reassure you. You possess power
to protect your heroes resting place-in
a two edged sword" and with another
bow, and a straight look into her angry
eyes, he drew his horses bride over his
arm and led him to the road.
AS he mounted and rode on he found to
his surprise that his hand was shaking
with excitement. He was very angry.
He had never before been insulted BY a
woman, and the feeling of helplessness
with which it affected him was irritating
in the extreme. He felt this 10 be a weak
ness, and endeavored to throw it off. But
that evening at supper he could not help
giving crisp little description of his late
encounter on the battlefield to his neigh
Dor at the table, ending with an inquiry If
such violence of feeling and expression
were usual.
Hardly, now" was the reply, except
ing among the most ignorant and preju-
diced. But this girl is peculiar case.
Her name is Ellen Everett. Before the
war her father was the richest planter in
the State. He put every dollar he could
command in the cause, and finally was
killed on the field over there fighting for
it. They carried him to his house, which
stood on the hill above, where his wife
who had remained there, despite every
thing that could be deplered or command
ed, received his body and tended it.
While she was doing so the house was
burned by a shell, and burned to the
ground. She had her husbands body
carried to the quarters. and there that
night her baby was born and she died.
Before she died she gave the child to the
old house steward, having him to solemn
ly swear that he would never desert the
child.
Ibid he do so p''
"No, he stuck to it through everything
and when the other niggers left the plan
tation he and his old nanny staid and
took care of it down in the quarters.
"Did none of the relatives ever claim
the childP"
There were none who could. Unlike