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WORKS.
Bivouac of the Dead.
The Old Pioneer.
THE BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD.
(_In Memory of the Kentuckians who fell at the Battle of Buena Vista,
Jan. 28, 1847._)
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat
The soldier's last tattoo;
No more on Life's parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping-ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.
No rumor of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind;
No troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved ones left behind;
No vision of the morrow's strife
The warrior's dream alarms;
No braying horn nor screaming fife
At dawn shall call to arms.
Their shivered swords are red with rust,
Their plumèd heads are bowed;
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow,
And the proud forms, by battle gashed,
Are free from anguish now.
The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout, are past;
Nor war's wild note nor glory's peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that never more may feel
The rapture of the fight.
. . . . . . . . .
Full many a norther's breath has swept
O'er Angostura's plain,--
And long the pitying sky has wept
Above its mouldered slain.
The raven's scream, or eagle's flight,
Or shepherd's pensive lay,
Alone awakes each sullen height
That frowned o'er that dread fray.
Sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground,
Ye must not slumber there,
Where stranger steps and tongues resound
Along the heedless air.
Your own proud land's heroic soil
Shall be your fitter grave:
She claims from war his richest spoil--
The ashes of her brave.
Thus 'neath their parent turf they rest,
Far from the gory field,
Borne to a Spartan mother's breast
On many a bloody shield;
The sunshine of their native sky
Smiles sadly on them, here,
And kindred eyes and hearts watch by
The heroes' sepulchre.
Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead!
Dear as the blood ye gave;
No impious footstep here shall tread
The herbage of your grave;
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While Fame her record keeps,
Or Honor points the hallowed spot
Where Valor proudly sleeps.
Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell,
When many a vanished age hath flown,
The story how ye fell;
Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight,
Nor Time's remorseless doom,
Shall dim one ray of glory's light
That gilds your deathless tomb.
FOURTH PERIOD ... 1850-1894.
GEORGE RAINSFORD FAIRBANKS.
~1820=----.~
GEORGE RAINSFORD FAIRBANKS was born in Watertown, New York, but
settled in Florida at St. Augustine in 1842 and identified himself
with his adopted state. From 1860 to 1880 his home was at Sewanee,
Tennessee, and he has been on the Board of Trustees of the "University
of the South" since 1857. During the war he served as major in the
Confederate army, 1862-65. In 1880 he returned to Florida and has
since made his home in Fernandina. His "History of Florida" is
considered the best history of that state, and is written in a clear
and interesting style.
WORKS.
History of Florida.
History and Antiquities of St. Augustine.
OSCEOLA, LEADER OF THE SEMINOLES.
(_From History of Florida._[21])
[Illustration: ~Osceola.~]
His true Indian name was As-se-se-ha-ho-lar, or Black Drink, but he
was commonly called Osceola, or Powell. He belonged to a Creek tribe
called Red Sticks, and was a half-breed. He removed to Florida with
his mother when a child, and lived near Fort King [three miles east of
Ocala]. At the beginning of the Florida war he was about thirty-one
years of age, of medium size, being about five feet eight inches in
height, resolute and manly in his bearing, with a clear, frank, and
engaging countenance. He was undoubtedly the master-spirit of the war,
and by his firmness and audacity forced the nation into the war which
a large majority were averse to engaging in, and either broke up every
attempt at negotiations or prevented their fulfillment. He was to have
been one of the leaders at Dade's massacre, but was detained at Fort
King by his determination to gratify his revenge upon General
Thompson. He participated in the battles at the ford of the
Withlacoochee and Camp Izard, and led the attack upon Micanopy, where,
with his force of less than two hundred and fifty men, within sight of
the fort, he attacked upwards of one hundred regular troops in an open
field, supported by a field-piece.
His capture, [October, 1837], by General Hernandez was due to his
audacity and self-confidence. Bad faith, and a disregard of the usages
of civilization, have been imputed to General Jesup on this occasion,
Osceola having come in under a white flag to negotiate; but that
officer contended that Osceola had broken his faith in reference to
the Fort Dade capitulation [when he had promised to emigrate] and was
to be treated as a prisoner.
From all that can be gathered of his character, Osceola was possessed
of nobler traits than usually belong to his race. His manners were
dignified and courteous, and upon the field he showed himself a brave
and cautious leader. It is said that he instructed his people in their
predatory excursions to spare the women and children. "It is not,"
said he, "upon them that we make war and draw the scalping-knife. It
is upon men. Let us act like men."
Osceola has furnished to the poet, to the novelist, and to the lover
of romance, a most attractive subject, and scarce any limit has been
placed to the virtues attributed or the exploits imagined in
connection with this renowned chief of the Seminoles. A poet has sung
of him,--
"His features are clothed with a warrior's pride,
And he moves with a monarch's tread;
He smiles with joy, as the flash of steel
Through the Everglades' grass is seen."
Upon his removal to Charleston, he became dejected and low-spirited,
and gradually pined away. All efforts to interest him in a Western
home failed to arouse him, and in a few weeks he died of a broken
heart, and was buried just outside of the principal gateway of Fort
Moultrie, where his resting-place is inclosed and a monument erected.
FOOTNOTE:
[21] By permission of the author.
RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON.
~1822=----.~
RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON was born in Hancock County, Georgia. He was
professor of Literature in the University of Georgia, 1857-1861. He
served, as colonel, in the Confederate army, and has since had a
school for boys at Sparta, Georgia, and later near Baltimore.
In connection with Prof. William Hand Browne of Johns Hopkins, he has
published a "History of English Literature" and a "Life of Alexander
H. Stephens." His tales describe life among the Georgia "Crackers" and
they have many readers and admirers. His style has the stamp of simple
truth and is irresistible. See _Sketch_ in Miss Rutherford's "American
Authors."
WORKS.
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