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of them were supported out, and
some of them sauntered out with a haggard look of bravery, and a few nodded to
the gallery, and two or three shook hands, and others went out chewing the
fragments of herb they had taken from the sweet-herbs lying about. He went last
of all, because of having to be helped from his chair and to go very slowly ;
and he held my hand while all the others were removed, and while the audience
got up (putting their dresses right, as they might at church or elsewhere) and
pointed down at this criminal or at that, and most of all at him and me.
I earnestly hoped and prayed that
he might die before the Recorder's Report was made, but, in the dread of his
lingering on, I began that night to write out a petition to the Home Secretary
of State, setting forth my knowledge of him, and how it was that he had come
back for my sake. I wrote it as fervently and pathetically as I could, and when
I had finished it and sent it in, I wrote out other petitions to such men in
authority as I hoped were the most merciful, and drew up one to the Crown
itself. For several days and nights after he was sentenced I took no rest except
when I fell asleep in my chair, but was wholly absorbed in these appeals. And
after I had sent them in, I could not keep away from the places where they were,
but felt as if they were more hopeful and less desperate when I was near them.
In this unreasonable restlessness and pain of mind I would roam the streets of
an evening, wandering by those offices and houses where I had left the
petitions. To the present hour the weary western streets of London on a cold
dusty spring night, with their ranges of stern shut-up mansions, and their long
rows of lamps, are melancholy to me from this association.
The daily visits I could make him
were shortened now, and he was more strictly kept. Seeing, or fancying, that I
was suspected of an intention of carrying poison to him, I asked to be searched
before I sat down at his bedside, and told the officer who was always there,
that I was willing to do any thing that would assure him of the singleness of my
designs. Nobody was hard with him or with me. There was duty to be done, and it
was done, but not harshly. The officer always gave me the assurance that he was
worse, and some other sick prisoners in the room, and some other prisoners who
attended on them as sick nurses (malefactors but not incapable of kindness, GOD
be thanked !) always joined in the same report.
As the days went on, I noticed
more and more that he would lie, placidly looking at the white ceiling with an
absence of light in his face, until some word of mine brightened it for an
instant, and then it would subside again. Sometimes he was almost, or quite,
unable to speak; then he would answer me with slight pressures on my hand, and I
grew to understand his meaning very well.
The number of the days had
mounted up to ten, when I saw a greater change in him than I had seen yet. His
eyes were turned toward the door, and lighted up as I entered.
" Dear boy," he said, as I sat
down by his bed : "I thought you was late. But I knowed you couldn't be that."
" It is just the time," said I, "
I waited for it at the gate."
"You always waits at the gate ;
don't you, dear boy ?"
"Yes. Not to lose a moment of the
" Thankee, dear boy, thankee. God
bless you!. You've never deserted me, dear boy."
I pressed his hand in silence,
for I could not forget that I had once meant to desert him.
"And what's best of all," he
said, "you've been more comfortable alonger me, since I was under a dark cloud,
than when the sun shone. That's best of all."
He lay on his back, breathing
with great difficulty. Do what he would, and love me though he did, the light
left his face ever and again, and a film came over the placid look at the white
" Are you in much pain to-day ?"
"I don't complain of none, dear
"You never do complain, dear
He had spoken his last words. He
smiled, and I understood his touch to mean that he wished to lift my hand, and
lay it on his breast. I laid it there, and he smiled again, and put both his
hands upon it.
The allotted time ran out while
we were thus; but looking round, I found the governor of the prison standing by
me, and he whispered, "You needn't go yet." I thanked him gratefully, and asked,
"might I speak to him, if he can hear me ?"
The governor stepped aside, and
beckoned the officer away. The change, though it was made without noise, drew
back the film from the placid look at the white ceiling, and he looked most
affectionately at me.
"Dear Magwitch, I must tell you,
now at last. You understand what I say?"
A gentle pressure on my hand.
"You had a child once whom you
loved and lost."
A stronger pressure on my hand.
"She lived and found powerful
friends. She is living now. She is a lady and very beautiful. And I love her !"
With a last faint effort, which
would have been powerless but for my yielding to it and assisting it, he raised
my hand to his lips. Then he gently let it sink upon his breast again, with his
own hands lying on it. The placid look at the white ceiling came back, and
passed away, and his head dropped quietly on his breast.
Mindful, then, of what we had
read together, I thought of the two men who went up into the Temple to pray, and
knew that there were no better words that I could say beside his bed than "0
Lord, be merciful to him, a sinner !"
GRANDMOTHER WHITE, in her easy
chair, Sat beside the cottage door,
Where the restless leaves of the
maple-trees Sifted sunbeams on the floor.
Sifted glinting gleams on the old
door-stone, Worn smooth by the tread of feet;
On the narrow walk, where, on
either side, Blossomed flowers quaint and sweet.
Where the four o'clock, with its
dial closed, Told the primrose when to bloom,
And the great red rose, from its
bursting heart, Flung its wealth of sweet perfume.
Sifted fitful rays on the silver
Of the grandame's whitened hair
On her faded cheek, on her
But a flash met the sunbeam
For a shining sword, with its
trappings gay, She held with a loving clasp,
Counting, one by one, the days
agone Since it fell from the soldier's grasp-
Since her darling son laid him
down to die, On the battle-fields of Mexico;
And only this, by a comrade's
Came back from that scene of woe.
And ever since, when the roses
She brightens its blade once
And holds a watch o'er the
Sitting thus by the cottage door.
From her listless dream she
starts to hear
A voice mingled still with the
past, Saying, " Good-by, mother dear ! good-by l"
Then a shadow is quickly cast.
And glancing up in her strange
amaze, Before her there seems to stand
Her son, as he looked when he
took the field For the right, and his native land.
" Grandmother White," said the
soldier lad, "I am going, as father went,
To fight for the flag that he
loved so well, Ere its stars from its blue were rent.
" And, grandmother, now will you
bless your boy, And bid him to-day God-speed;
That I and my men, in the darkest
hour, May have one with Him to plead?"
"Bless thee, my child!" and the
wrinkled hands Were laid on the low-bowed head,
And a murmured prayer, in her
trembling tones, O'er the kneeling man she said.
" And now, Alstyne, take your
father's blade, My care o'er its sheen is o'er;
I shall watch and wait, when the
roses bloom, Ever thus by the cottage door.
"But my watch shall be for the
sword no more : It will be for the reaper's tread,
With his shining sickle ready
For the ripe and whitened head.
"And waiting thus, if I chance to
hear Of a brave deed in the fight,
I shall know the steel, I shall
know the name, Even that of Alstyne White."
68 WEST NINETEENTH STREET, N.
Y. E. B.
pages 456 and 457 we give a
large picture of THE BROOKLYN NAVY-YARD, from a sketch taken in June last, just
before the departure of some of our finest vessels of war for the Southern
coast. The scene was imposing and magnificent—rarely equaled in our naval
experience. Seldom if ever have so many fine ships and so many men been
assembled in any of our naval yards—on actual war intent. At the present time,
of course, the scene is changed; the ships are mostly gone, and the Yard is
MAJOR KNIPE WINGING A
OUR special war correspondent and
artist of General Patterson's Division, now in Virginia, furnishes us this week
with a sketch of an exciting incident which lately occurred at Williamsport,
which we reproduce on
page 454. Major Knipe, of General Williams's
staff, was one morning riding leisurely along the already historic Potomac
banks, accompanied by our artist, also a staff officer of the brigade, when he
discovered a rebel soldier, likewise riding, upon a hill-side on the opposite
shore, and about three-fourths of a mile distant.
As our volunteers have of late
been annoyed by stray shots from Virginia at this point, and since to receive
either Minie or spherical ball into one's soup-plate or possibly spoon, when the
latter is in the act of finding its way mouthward, is, to say the least,
unpleasant even to persons of the most imperturbable dispositions, the gallant
Major Knipe deemed the gay cavalier of the Old Dominion fair game for his steady
hand and finely-wrought Wesson rifle. So springing from his saddle, he drew bead
upon Mr. Secessionist. A report, a thin cloud of white smoke curling upward, and
in an instant, like a wounded bird, the doomed foe was seen to fall off his
steed. His two companions-in-arms, dismounting rapidly, rushed to his
assistance, and presently laid him carefully beneath the sheltering branches of
a neighboring tree. Whether death followed the unexpected wounding or not is
The rapidity with which this
little drama was enacted, and the extraordinary success of Major Knipe's aim at
so distant an object, lend to the incident an interest by no means common.
page 459 we publish an engraving of M. Francois
Biard's well-known painting—THE PIRATES. It will be timely just now. The picture
represents a pirate ship in a tropical climate, waiting for its prey, which the
crew are artfully luring into their clutches. At the side of the ship we behold
some of them disguised ; one with a bonnet and parasol, another as a female
hanging on the shoulders of a well-dressed gentleman, the respectable-looking
master with his speaking-trumpet under his arm—all earnestly hailing the
American clipper, which, unsuspecting their real character, is nearing them.
Every man of this vile crew is armed to the teeth; and all except the prominent
actors are crouching to the deck for the sake of concealment until the word is
given for the murderous attack. One fellow standing on a cask is playing very
innocently on a fiddle; and a knowing-looking had sits perched up with a book in
his hand pretending to read—obviously to help in keeping up the delusion that it
is "all right" and pleasant on board. A broken spirit-chest shows that strong
drinks have been pretty freely resorted to to bring up the courage or excite the
ferocity of the ship's company. All who view this picture, after admiring the
general dramatic effect, and the skillful grouping, will be struck with the
great variety thrown into the expression of the faces, in which, however, the
type of villainy and brutal sensuality still prevails as the only living
principle. The general effect of atmosphere and locale also are well rendered ;
M. Biard having, we believe, had much personal experience of sea-life.
Francois Biard is a pupil of
Revoil, school of Lyons. He received the second-class medal (genre) in 1828, the
first-class medal in 1836, and was made Chevalier of the Legion of honor in
THE ELEVENTH INDIANA
to the Eleventh
Indiana Zouaves. Colonel Lewis Wallace, a regiment which is likely to
make a name for itself in the present war. Some of our sketches are from
photographs sent us from the West. Others from sketches by Mr. Gookins, to whom
we have been frequently indebted for illustrations of the Eleventh Indiana boys.
The camp of the Zouaves has been at Wills Gap, near Cumberland, a place somewhat
noted, as it was on the mountain on which Wills Creek takes its rise that
Washington, then a provincial colonel, raised his flag while mustering his
forces at Fort Cumberland to march under General Braddock to the memorable
battle in which the latter was defeated. The " Camp Recreations" show that the
Indiana boys, who are serious enough in fight, are as merry as ever when the
grim work of war is over. The illustrations of the drill and manoeuvres—from
photographs—are quite striking.
page 461 we publish a portrait
of SPEAKER GROW, of the House of Representatives, from a photograph by Brady.
Galusha A. Grow was born at
Ashford, Windham County, Connecticut, on 31st August, 1823, and is consequently
thirty-eight years of age. His father dying when he was three years old, young
Grow, with five brothers and sisters, was left dependent on his mother for
support. That lady took a farm, and opened a little store at Voluntown, in
Windham County, and managed so well that she not only educated her whole family
but actually realized a little competency besides. When Galusha was eleven years
of age his mother turned all her little property into money, and removed to
Susquehanna County, Pennsylvania, where her sons commenced the lumbering
business. It is recorded of Galusha that when he was twelve years old he would
stay a week or ten days alone in the woods, looking up big trees, and trusting
to himself for a supply of food, and that when he was fourteen he was quite well
known as a dealer in lumber in the region in which he lived.
At seventeen, Galusha's brothers
sent him to college; after graduating he studied law, and was admitted to the
bar in 1850. In that same year he was elected to Congress as a Democrat, being
the youngest member of the Thirty-second Congress. He has retained the seat ever
since; his third reelection was unanimous, all parties being perfectly satisfied
with his course in the House. On Mr. Banks's election Mr. Grow became one of the
leaders, if not the leader of Congress, and was Republican candidate for Speaker
when Mr. Orr, of South Carolina, was elected. He has now been elected to preside
over the House; and from his first speech we judge that he will do it
Wanted 1000 Agents, to sell
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Butler, and all the Heroes. Enclose from $1 to
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CITIZENS CALLED FROM THEIR homes
on public duty and deprived of many personal comforts, need not be deprived of
"LEA & PERRINS'S WORCESTERSHIRE SAUCE," as the use of this esteemed condiment
will go far to remedy the discomforts arising from bad or irregular cooking. For
sale in half-pint, pint, and quart bottles, by all respectable grocers
throughout the United States. JOHN DUNCAN & SONS, Union Square and 14th Street,
"Matrimony made Easy,"—A new
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This Day Published:
ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION in NAVAL
ORDNANCE and GUNNERY. By James H. Ward, Commander U. S. Navy, Author of Naval
Tactics and Steam for the Million. New Edition, revised and enlarged. Octavo,
$2. Sent free by mail on receipt of price.
D. VAN NOSTRAND, Publisher, No.
POPULAR SONG BOOKS.
CAMP SONGS, for the Volunteers,
10 cts. SHILLING SONG BOOK, nearly 200 Songs, 12 cts. HOME MELODIST, '25 cts.
AMATEUR SONG BOOK, 40. GEMS OF SONG, 50. 100 IRISH, 100 SCOTCH, and 100 COMIC
SONGS, each 50. SONGS FOR THE PEOPLE, illustrated, $1. Mailed, post-paid, on
receipt of the price, by DII'SON & CO., Boston.
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For Weak and Inflamed Eyelids.
Cures in One Minute!!! Price 25
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Prepared by A. B. & D. SANDS, 100
Fulton St., N. Y.
YOUNG MEN, who have been thrown out of situations by the war, can hear of
EMPLOYMENT which, by proper efforts, can be made profitable, by addressing
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SEA-BATHING. — UNITED STATES
HOTEL, Long Branch, N. J., will
open for the reception of visitors Jun:, 10, 1861: with the enlargement of
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accommodate 500 guests. Address
B. A. SHOEMAKER, Proprietor.
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HARPER'S MAGAZINE and HARPER'S
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HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
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Illustrations of the War,
PRICE SIX CENTS.
HARPER'S WEEKLY has now REGULAR
ARTIST-CORRESPONDENTS at Fortress Monroe, Va., at
Washington, D. C., at
Martinsburg, Va., at Chambersburg, Pa., at Grafton, Va., at Cairo, Ill., at St.
Louis, Mo., and at Fort Pickens, Fla. These gentlemen will accompany the march
of the armies, and will reproduce, for the benefit of the readers of Harper's
Weekly, every incident of the momentous campaign which is now opening.
Harper's Weekly is, moreover, in
daily receipt of valuable sketches from Volunteer Correspondents in the Army and
Navy in all parts of the country. The Publishers will be glad to receive such
sketches from members of our forces in every section, and will pay liberally for
such as they may use.
The Publishers will send Harper's
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and address of the officer to whom it should be forwarded.
The circulation of Harper's
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They have already published,
since the Election, over three hundred illustrations of the Southern Rebellion,
,and they feel confident that the pages of Harprer's Weekly will present a
complete and exhaustive ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF THE WAR. No person who wishes to
be infornmed with regard to the momentous events which are transpiring can
afford to dispense with it.
Notwithstanding the great amount
of space devoted to Illustrations of the War, Harper's Weekly continues to
publish Mr. DICKENS'S New Story, "GreatExpectations," which is pronounced the
most successful of his admirable works. Its Editorial, Lounger, News, and other
departments will be found, as usual, up to the time.