Fort Lafayette | Page 6

eminence that overlooked a portion of the city of Richmond. There,
upon an open space, could be seen a great number of the citizens
assembled, apparently listening to the harangue of an orator. The
occasional cheer that arose from the multitude faintly reached their ears,
and that mass of humanity, restless, turbulent and excited, seemed,
even at that distance, to be swayed by some mighty passion.
"Look, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "at this magnificent circle of
gorgeous scenery, that you are so justly proud of, that lies around you
in the golden sunset like a dream of a fairy landscape. See how the
slanting rays just tip the crest of that distant ridge, making it glow like a
coronet of gold, and then, leaping into the river beneath; spangle its
bosom with dazzling sheen, save where a part rests in the purple
shadow of the mountain. Look to the right, and see how those crimson
clouds seem bending from heaven to kiss the yellow corn-fields that
stretch along the horizon. And at your feet, the city of Richmond

extends along the valley."
"We admit the beauty of the scene and the accuracy of the description,"
said Beverly, "but, for my part, I should prefer the less romantic view
of some of Aunt Nancy's batter-cakes, for this ride has famished me."
"Now look below," continued Arthur, "at that swarm of human beings
clustering together like angry bees. As we stand here gazing at the
glorious pageant which nature spreads out before us, one might
suppose that only for some festival of rejoicing or thanksgiving would
men assemble at such an hour and in such a scene. But what are the
beauties of the landscape, bathed in the glories of the setting-sun, to
them? They have met to listen to words of passion and bitterness, to
doctrines of strife, to denunciations and criminations against their
fellow-men. And, doubtless, a similar scene of freemen invoking the
spirit of contention that we behold yonder in that pleasant valley of the
Old Dominion, is being enacted at the North and at the South, at the
East and at the West, all over the length and breadth of our country.
The seeds of discord are being carefully and persistently gathered and
disseminated, and on both sides, these erring mortals will claim to be
acting in the name of patriotism. Beverly, do you surmise nothing
ominous of evil in that gathering?"
"Ten to one, some stirring news from Charleston. We must ride over
after supper, Arthur, and learn the upshot of it."
"And I will be a sybil for the nonce," said Oriana, with a kindling eye,
"and prophecy that Southern cannon have opened upon Sumter."
In the evening, in despite of a threatening sky, Arthur and Beverly
mounted their horses and galloped toward Richmond. As they
approached the city, the rain fell heavily and they sought shelter at a
wayside tavern. Observing the public room to be full, they passed into a
private parlor and ordered some slight refreshment. In the adjoining
tap-room they could hear the voices of excited men, discussing some
topic of absorbing interest. Their anticipations were realized, for they
quickly gathered from the tenor of the disjointed conversation that the
bombardment of Fort Sumter had begun.

"I'll bet my pile," said a rough voice, "that the gridiron bunting won't
float another day in South Carolina."
"I'll go you halves on that, hoss, and you and I won't grow greyer nor
we be, before Old Virginny says 'me too.'"
"Seth Rawbon, you'd better be packing your traps for Massachusetts.
She'll want you afore long."
"Boys," ejaculated the last-mentioned personage, with an oath, "I left
off being a Massachusetts man twelve years ago. I'm with you, and you
know it. Let's drink. Boys, here's to spunky little South Carolina; may
she go in and win! Stranger, what'll you drink?"
"I will not drink," replied a clear, manly voice, which had been silent
till then.
"And why will you not drink?" rejoined the other, mocking the
dignified and determined tone in which the invitation was refused.
"It is sufficient that I will not."
"Mayhap you don't like my sentiment?"
"Right."
"Look you, Mr. Harold Hare, I know you well, and I think we'll take
you down from your high horse before you're many hours older in these
parts. Boys, let's make him drink to South Carolina."
"Who is he, anyhow?"
"He's an abolitionist; just the kind that'll look a darned sight more
natural in a coat of tar and feathers. Cut out his heart and you'll find
John Brown's picture there as large as life."
At the mention of Harold's name, Arthur and Beverly had started up
simultaneously, and throwing open the bar-room door, entered hastily.
Harold had risen from his seat and stood confronting Rawbon with