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there were no news, but such as were most

" But your Ladyship does not under-
stand," said Colonel Troviiio, not allowing
her to see how much he was relieved by the
intelligence — "your Ladyship does not— can-
not understand the anxieties of a command
like ours. It is not the published war, it
is not the campaigns which can be told in
gazettes and proclaimed by heralds which
we soldiers dread." Again, with an approv-
ing glance at Monsieur Philippe, as if he
were Bonaparte in person : " It is the secret
plots, the war in disguise 1 This Nolano
will not send word in advance that he is

Inez started in spite of herself, as she
heard the name. Aiid then she could have
punished herself by whatever torture, for her
lack of self-control. She need nothave been
distressed. The Colonel Troviiio did not
suspect a girl of seventeen of caring any more
for what he said, than the cat who was
purring in the Donna Trovino*s arms.

"This Nolano will not send word in
advance that he is coming. He will swoop
down on us with his giants, as a troop of
buffalo swoops down upon a drinking pond
:« ^,^^A^^ r>^«;^^^ ^^ l^g jjmsj return;

y Lady grant it! God be
return, as a flock of ante-
en they have caught a

as well pleased with this
unice, meanwhile, had not
or color.

Nolano, of whom you
officer of General Bona-

i ! No, Madam ! He is
iricans of the North, who
1 from their cold, wintry
re the city of Mexico, to
nines of our King, and
their spoil. Our advices,
o distinct as I could wish,

but we know enough to be sure that this
man has recruited an army in the East, and,
if the way opens, will attack us."

" Impossible ! " said Eunice, bravely, " that
he should have recruited an army, and the
Marquis of Casa Calvo know nothing of it I
Impossible that the Marquis should permit
me and this lady to travel in a country so
soon to be the scene of war."

" A thousand pardons, Senora," persisted
the other. "We speak under the rose here.
Let it be confessed that the Marquis of
Casa Calvo is not so young as he was forty
years ago, nor so sharp-sighted. Our Sov-
ereign places him, perhaps, at Orieans; let us
say, — ^yes, — may the Holy Mother preserve
us ! — ^because that is not the place of action
and of arms. For us — why, we have seen
Philippo Nolano and that within two years ! "

Poor Inez ! She did not dare to glance at
Harrod, but she longed to strike an attitude
rivaling the ColonePs, and to say :

" And we have seen Philippo Nolano, and
that within two days ! "

But the position, though it had its ludi-
crous side, was, of course, sufficiently critical
to keep them all seriously watchfiil of word
and glance alike.

" Indeed," said Eunice, seriously, " how
was this, and what manner of man is he ?
What do you say his name is ? "

" His name is Nolano, my Lady ; his bap-
tismal name, if these heretics have any bap-
tism, is Philippo ; may the Saint Philippo
pardon me and preserve us 1 Do we know
him ? Why, he made his home in this very
presidio of Nacogdoches, and that not two
years ago. My Lady, he has sat in that
chair, he has drunk from this cup. To
think that such treason should lurk m these
walls, and study out in advance our de-

At this point the little lady of the group
took courage.

" My dear husband," said the Senora Tro-
vino, " let us admit that we were very glad to
see him. Indeed, ladies, he is a most agreea-
ble person, though he be an American of the
North and a filibuster. He was here for
some time, and he knew the language of
the Americans so well, that in all business
he served my husband and the other officers
here, as an interpreter. There were some
Americans arrested for illicit trade — silver,
you know," and she dropped her voice;
" two men with a hard name, but, I learned
it, so often did I hear it. There was a
process about these men; Eastridge was
their name; oh, it lasted for months, and

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often was your namesake, Don Philippo,
in the chair you sat in, Monsieur Philippo ;
he was discussing their business with my
husband "

** And playing chess with my wife," said
the Colonel, interrupting her. " Ah, he was a
very cunning soldier, was your Don I There
is no secret of our defenses but is known
to him, and now he comes with an army !"

" Surely," said Eunice, as bravely as be-
fore, "you do not speak of the Captain
Nolan who was so near a friend of the
Baron Carondelet ? Why, he was presented
to me by the Baron himself at a ball."

Colonel Troviiio confessed that Nolan
brought him letters at one time from the

" And my brother has dined with him at
General Gayoso*s palace. Oh, it is impos-
sible that this person can lead an American

" Ladies!" said the Colonel, clasping his
hands, " a soldier must believe nothmg, and
he must believe everything also. May all
the Saints preserve us 1 "

And Eunice felt that she had pressed the
defense o/ her friend as far as was safe, or
to his advantage.

(To be continued.)


The Pennsylvania campaign was over.
TTie reverberations of the thunders of Gettys-
burg had ceased. The blood of the gallant
dead who so sternly wrestled for its posses-
sion no longer stained the bosom of Ceme-
tery Hill. Nothing save the scars and
wreck of batde gave physical token of one
of the most decisive engagements of the
Civil War. Near Falling Waters the swol-
len Potomac had been successfully crossed
by the retiring Confederates in the face
of General Meade's army, which, although
far outnumbering, had been so stunned by
the recent conflict that it hesitated to dis-
pute the dangerous passage. Having con-
ducted his troops safely into Virginia, Gen-
eral Lee re-occupied his old encampment on
the banks of the Opequan, where his wearied
and depleted legions might, for a season,
enjoy at least partial relief from their arduous
labors, and await the return of numerous
stragglers whom fatigue and wounds had
caused to falter during the retreat.

Oppressed by the responsibilities of his
high station and the numerous wants of his
army, well nigh overborne by the weight of
extraordinary anxieties and the effect of pro-
tracted privations — the lingering traces of
a severe indisposition encountered the pre-
vious spring styi exerting their depressing
influences — the great Confederate chieftain
was forced to admit that his splendid phys-
ical constitution was being taxed almost,
if not quite, beyond endurance. As he
lay in General Meade's path, awaiting and
anticipating the development of his plan of

operations. General Lee was enjoying a
degree of rest and freedom from care sur-
passing such as generaUy fell to his lot.
This brief period of comparative repose
was dedicated to earnest thought, to a care-
ful survey of the situation, to making the
best provision for the future, and to an
honest appreciation of the part he was sus-
taining in this vast conflict. No one com-
prehended more thoroughly the issues at
stake, the inequalities of the contest, or the
qualifications which were essential to encour-
age the hope of success in the breast of a
Confederate commander. Intelligently esti-
mating all resources upon which reliance
might be placed, fathoming the abilities of
his prominent subalterns, re-organizing his
army and supplying, its needs, he was quiedy
and energetically maturing such plans as
appeared most conducive to the mainte-
nance of a cause which enlisted his every
sympathy. It was a time of profound solia-
tude, in which the victories and reverses of
the past were commmgled with conflicting
hopes and fears for the future. Supreme
was his desire to perform his whole duty,
and to omit nothmg which might further the
best interests of the Confederate struggle
for independence. Personal advancement
and the. influence. of commanding rank he
valued only as they afforded the best oppor-
tunity for promoting the general welfare.

The failure of the grand charge at Gettys-
burg, in which, amid the smoke and carnage
of more than two hundred pieces of artillery,
Pickett heroically yet vainly attempted to

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pierce the Federal center, was often present
m his saddest thoughts. His great and gen-
erous heart yearned over the slain of his
people, lamenting the fall of so many gallant
dead whose eyes had frequently met those
of their beloved leader by the c^uiet camp-
fires, on the tiresome march, and m the glare
of batde, and whose places could never
again be filled from the decimated ranks of
the Confederacy.

Although the campaign into Pennsylvania
was not unfruitful of results beneficial to the
Southern States; although by the recent
shock of arms and this aggressive movement
the Federal advance upon Richmond had
been materially delayed ; although the State
of Virginia, for the time being, had been
delivered from the waste and burthen of
hostile invasion; although General Lee had,
from perilous environment, withdrawn his
army strong in organization, proud in spirit,
and with confidence unshaken, and was in
full possession of his legitimate line of
defense, he could but acknowledge that* all
had not been accomplished which the late
advance was designed to compass. " This
has been a sad day for us, Colonel, a sad
day; but we can't expect always to gain
victories," was his remark to Colonel Free-
mantle, as, sublime in his indifference to per-
sonal danger, and calm in the midst of the
hurry and confusion of the scene, the Con-
federate leader encouraged his men when,
torn and worn by the battle, they fell back
before the triumphant roar of the Federal
artillery which swept the whole valley and
slope of Seminary Ridge with shot and shell.
As a soldier, and as the chief captain of the
Confederate hosts, he admitted that he had
been foiled of his aim; and although, in his
own language, if a spirit of disappointment
and discontent existed in his army, his
brother officers had been too kind to report
it, and his troops too generous to exhibit it,
the tone of the public press and the senti-
timent of the country indicated dissatisfaction
with the result of a campaign from which
grander achievements had been blindly
expected than the troops and resources
employed in its conduct ought in reason to
have justified. It was not in human nature,
in its most heroic development and conscious
of its noblest effort, to remain, under the
circumstances, entirely indifferent to or unaf-
fected by such expression. As at the time
of Pickett's repulse he said to General Wil-
cox, who in sorrow reported the almost total
destruction of his brigade, " Never mind.
General, all this has been my fault; it is I

who have lost this fight, and you must hdp
me out of it the best way you can," — so now,
at Camp Orange, with a dignity, a manhood,
and a generosity the most remarkable, deny-
ing no responsibility, suggesting no excuses,
indulging in no censures, he shielded otheis
by taking upon himself alone the soul-
depressing burthen of the general misfortune.
It was under such circumstances that the
following noble letter was penned:

Camp Orange, 8 Aug., 1863.

Mr. President: Your letters of 28 July
and 2 Aug. have been rec'd, and I have
waited for a leisure hour to reply, but I fear
that will never come. I am extremely
obliged to you for the attention given to the
wants of this army, and tfie efforts made to
supply them. Our absentees are returning,
and I hope the earnest and beautiful appeal
made to the country in your proclamation
may stir up the whole people, and that they
may see their duty and perform it Nothing
is wanted but that their fortitude should
equal their bravery, to insure the success of
our cause. We must expect reverses, even
defeats. They are sent to teach us wisdom
and prudence, to call forth greater energies,
and to prevent our falling into greater disas-
ters. Our people have only to be true and
united, to bear manfully the misfortunes
incident to war, and all will come right in
die end.

I know how prone we are to censure, and
how ready to blame others for the nonfulfill-
ment of our expectations. This is unbecom-
ing in a generous people, and I grieve to see
its expression. TTie general remedy for the
want of success in a military conunander is
his removal. This is natural, and in many
instances proper. For, no matter what may
be the ability of the officer, if he loses the
confidence of his troops, disaster must sooner
or later ensue.

I have been prompted by these reflections
more than once since my return from Penna.
to propose to your Exc*y the propriety of
selecting another commander for this army.
I have seen and heard of expressions of dis-
content in the public joumab at the result
of the expedition. I do not know how far
this feeling extends in the army. My brother
officers have been too kind to report it, and
so far the troops have been too generous to
exhibit it It is fair, however, to suppose
that it does exist, and success is so necessary
to us that nothing should be risked to secure
it. I therefore, in all sincerity, request your
Exc'y to take measures to supply my place.

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I do this with the more earnestness because
no one is more aware than myself of my
inability for the duties of my position. I
cannot even accomplish what I myself desire.
How can I fulfill the expectations of others?
In addition, I sensibly feel the growing fail-

your Exc'y fi-om my belief that a younger
and abler man than myself can readily be
obtained. I know that he will have as gal-
lant and brave an army as ever existed to
second his efforts, and it would be the hap-
piest day of my life to see at its head a


ure of my bodily strength, I have not yet
recovered from the attack I experienced the
past spring. I am becoming more and more
incapable of exertion, and am thus prevented
from making the personal examinations and
giving the personal supervision to the opera-
tions m the field which I feel to be necessary.
I am so dull that in making use of the eyes
of others I am frequently misled. Every-
thing therefore points to the advantages to
be derived from a new commander, and I
the more anxiously urge the matter upon
Vol. XI.— 34.

worthy leader; one that would accomplish
more than I could perform, and all that I
have wished. I hope your Exc*y will attrib-
ute my request to the true reason, the desire
to serve my country, and to do all in my power
to insure the success of her righteous cause.
I have no complaints to make of any one
but myself. I have received nothing but
kindness from those above me, and the
most considerate attention from my com-
rades and companions in arms. To your
Excellency I am specially indebted for uni-

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form kindness and consideration. You have
done everything in your power to aid me
in the work committed to my charge, with-
out omitting anything to promote the gen-
eral welfare. I pray that your efforts may
at length be crowned with success, and that
you may long live to enjoy the thanks of a
grateful people.

With sentiments of great esteem I am
very respectftilly and truly yours,

R. E. Lee, General.
His Exc*y Jeflfn Davis,

Pres. Confed. States.

We question whether, at the time, the
fact that General Lee had placed his com-
mission as Commander-in-Chief of the Army
of Northern Virginia in the hands of the
President of the Confederate States, with the
request that he should nominate his suc-
cessor, was communicated by Mr. Davis to
any save his confidential advisers. Certain
it is, the knowledge of such an important
event was current neither in the army nor
among the Southern people at large. Mr.
Davis's reply is not before us, but we may
rest assured that his cheering words and
expressions of confidence, uttered in the
name and behalf of the nation, convinced
his favorite lieutenant that he could most

ably fill the measure of public expectiticc,
and control the destinies of the grand amr
upon which the Confederacy leaned for tk
protection of her capital. His resignatuG
was not pressed, and the Confederal
continued to occupy the position for
above all his companions, he was best
encircling it with the halo of his
and great deeds, and rendering it
for aD time by the tried valor, the
fice and the devotion of his foUoi

This letter may well be
truthful expression of the
modesty, the exalted manhood,
interested patriotism of Genoal
entirely characteristic of him to
sorrowing words of Sir Ector for
Lancelot have been with reverence i

" Thou wert head of all ChristiiB

• • • • thou wert never
earthly knight's hand; and thou wflrt fte
courtliest knight that ever bare shidd; *

• • • and thou wert the kindest nun
that ever strake with sword ; and thoa wot
the goodliest person that ever came amoog
press of knights ; and thou wert the medus
man and the gendiest that ever ate in hall
among ladies; and thou wert the stenest
knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear
in rest."

[We publish the foresoioe interesting piece of secret history ia die kngnage of sectioiuJ friaffiBess
in which it reaches us. It wiU show, at feast, how truly and earnestly one side regards as ajpvre fistnGi
him whom the other side looks upon with condemnation, and wiU harcmr fiul to win sympathetic ctrn mrh -
tion for feelings and motives which opponents are too apt to ignore. — Editoe.]


Divine and dear, fair as the mora,
Eros of Aphrodite bom
Comes once on earth to each and all.
And spreads the heart's high festival.

He is the messenger of Fate, —
Gives gifts unto the desolate;
And where he walks the sunrise pours
With lavish hand its rosy stores.

Love harbors neither fear nor douht^ -
Tis more than all the world without;
Its miracles on wondering eyes
Fall with delicious, sweet suiprise.

In ways of old, in methods new, —
Pursued, or whether it pursue,
Love firmly speaks — ^nor plans, nor waits;
That is not Love which hesitates.

His light is finer than the sun's;

His face shines like Endymion's;

His joys are heired fi'om all the spheres,

And grief goes out when he appears.

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THE uMnrSBsmr of Michigan im 1855. (raoM a painting by cbopsby.)

The sturdy pilgrim, who may be passing
westward over the great thoroughfare of the
Michigan Central Railroad, finds himself,
when about forty miles beyond Detroit, in
the midst of a region that seems quite eman-
cipated from the stale, flat, and unprofitable
monotony of level landscape with which
nature has embittered the existence of the
eastern border of Michigan and the western
border of Canada. Here, at last, the earth
manifests spirit enough to tumble about into
the picturesque disorder of a series of very
considerable hills that are billowy with forest-
trees, or glossy with verdure quite to their
tops, and that condescend to give a smiling
though extremely crooked highway to the
two most industnous things in these parts —
the railway and the Huron River. In the
midst of this happy scenery, at what is now
the city of Ann Arbor, was bom in 1837
the University of Michigan.

I mention this date here with a bold pre-
ciseness, because, for the notable event of
which I am speaking, such is the date com-
monly laid down in the books ; and it must
be allowed that, in a certain crude and out-
ward sense, such is undoubtedly the true
date. Yet I am inclined to think that, if
we were to use words in their deeper mean-
ing, we should say that, although the Uni-
versity of Michigan was never seen by mortal
eyes until 1837, — nor, for that matter, uittil
1 84 1, — it was really bom, but modestly kept
itself out of sight, as long ago as the year
181 7. And this fact deserves our notice at

present, for a reason much more respectable
than any involved in an antiquarian's quibble
about dates, for it introduces us to a bit of
precedent history, very curious on its own
account, and quite necessary, if we would
see more recent events in their proper per-

It is common enough among people at a
distance, into whose minds any fame of this
University may have floated, to speak of it
as an institution of very recent origin, and
as the oflfeprin^ of the bounty of the Legis-
lature of Michigan. It is neither. As an
organized institution, it is now fifty-eight
years old, — an age that in this neighborhood
is venerable. Moreover, it is a descendant
in direct line firom the illustrious " Ordinance
of 1787;" its endowment came from the
bounty, not of the State, but of the nation ;
and instead of being as yet a debtor to the
Legislature of Michigan for a single penny,
in equity the Legislature of Michigan is still
. a very heavy debtor to. it

The statesmen who came into the direc-
tion of American affairs at the close of our
Revolutionary war had upon their hands,
among other large tasks, this one of pro-
viding for the far-stretching domain lying to
the west and north of the original colonies ;
and they put into their great Ordinance for
the regulation of this domain the magnani-
mous and fruitful doctrine that, since "relig-
ion, morality, and knowledge " are " neces-
sary to good government and the happiness
of mankind, schools and the means of edu-

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cation shall forever be encouraged." This
sentence, as appears by what its authors at
once proceeded to do, was not inserted
merely for its excellent sonorous qualities ;
it was the sincere utterance of a great piu*-
pose; it was a promise and a prophecy.
, Ten days after that Ordinance was passed,
that is, on the 27 th of July, 1787, the Con-
gress of the Confederation, in selling a large
tract of land in south-eastern Ohio for a
settlement there to be made by a company
of emigrants from New England, wrought


the noblest possible interpretation of their
previous words by granting for a university
m the new State 46,080 acres of land. This
was the first act in the practical interpretation
by the nation of the nation's educational
design ; but it was not the last. From that
day onward not a Territory was organized,
not a State was received into the great fel-
lowship of the Union, without some similar
expression of the interest which the nation
has in higher education. Finally, in 1805
the Territory of Michigan was formed ; and,
with its formation, it received likewise the
national grant of 23,040 acres of land as the
endowment of a university. Of course, at
that day, Michigan must have been con-
$i^ious of several needs more directly urgent
than the need of a university — ^population,
tfoc instance, as one of them. In 1805 the

inhabitants of Michigan consisted principally
of Indians, who were savage, and of French
people, who were, indeed, not savage, but
whose civilization was of a kind to make
it quite credible that a considerable time
had elapsed since their ancestors departed
from France. As for the white American
population, it probably did not exceed five
hundred souls. Under such circumstances,
it seems not at all strange that no immediate
action was taken to realize a imiversity endow-
ment from the national grant of land just men-
tioned. In fact the grant remained ** in hiber-
nation," as Professor Ten Brook* pleasantly*
calls it, and thus it contmued to remain until
Michigan had passed its winter, not exactly
of discontent, but certainly of discontinuity in
population. By the year 181 7, however, it
appeared to the American residents in the
Territory that the time had come for thetn
to bestir themselves in the matter of the
University, the pecuniary provision for which
lay dispersed and invisible in certain wild
lands not yet located, bestowed upon a State
as yet scarcely inhabited. Fortunately there
were in Michigan at that time at the head
of a£fairs several men of unusual sense and
force. Always the most distinguished among
them was the Governor, Lewis Cass, then
at the outset of his eminent career in Amer-
ican politics. The Territorial Secretary was
William Woodbridge, bom and educated in
Connecticut, a son-in-law of the poet John

Online LibraryFrancis HallThe Century, Volume 11 → online text (page 90 of 163)