vV ''K o-^- ci-. ^■^• <-. .^■ .^y V -x- %. C^^ 1^0 \' s ' ~k-' "f-v^ J^* .i"" •J- A " -r ■ >%.. ' -0^'"^. V": x^ ^. ^ A ^ ^ " ' o"' x'^- .^'' V^ ■=,:-':r::~^ ^ V""^\^' , -^ * ..V .^' 'K ,^^ "^ .-^^^ o^ ir^'^Vj^ O 0" o5 -^'j. ^N^^ ':,■ .vV ,x^' ■'^. t^'- ,^0 ''t. ■^'^-^ o\ ^0O. o5 -n^ N^ C'?-' ^4 f= ,0- A" 5' \\ 0^ .O ' '.. -^^ •^r ^^ >^^ 4^ -n^. ^0 0. ^,^^- ^^^''^^.- ■ "^' *^^ v-'^ 'V-^ v.^ .^:^^^. -^' 0^ -^ ?(• ->> ;7 aV -p. v-^ A ^->^ 01 9'^^/ ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI The Zigzag Series BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH. ZTGZAG JOURNEYS IN EUROPE. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN CLASSIC LANDS. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE ORIENT. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE OCCIDENT. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN NORTHERN LANDS. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN ACADIA. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE LEVANT. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE SUNNY SOUTH. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN INDIA. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE AN7IP0DES. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE BRITISH ISLES. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE GREA T NORTH- WEST. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN AUSTRALIA. ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPP/. ESTES AND LAURIAT, Publishers, BOSTON, MASS. Zigzag Journeys ON THE MISSISSIPPI FROM CHICAGO TO THE ISLANDS OF THE DISCOVERY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH FULLY ILLUSTRATED AUG 26 1892 /y BOSTON ^ ESTES AND LAURIAT PUBLISHERS \ Copyright, 1892, By Estes and Lauriat. ^^ John Wilson and Son, C/Vmp.ridge, U.S.A. PREFACE. T has been the purpose of the Zigzag books to enable young people to talk of the politics of dif- ferent nations intelligently; it is the aim of this volume to prepare its readers to discuss the mean- ing of the Great World's Fair of 1893, ^^^ the historical progress that the enterprise represents and illustrates. Hence it is a book of stories associated for the most part with the Columbian Discovery, with Chicago, and the Mississippi Valley. A few years ago the author of this series of books formed a Spanish Class for some young people in his home in Boston. The class was suggested to him by the difficulties that he had met on an excursion to Havana. After a winter of agreeable lessons with the class, he made a visit to the City of Mexico by the way of the Mississippi Valley and Laredo, and found the easy Spanish that he had learned of great service to him. This story-book is in- tended to suggest the importance of the study of Spanish literature, in view of our new commercial relations with the Republics of Mexico and of South America, as well as to prepare the way for 8 PREFACE. an intelligent visit by young people to the Columbian Exposition. Like the other books of the series, a light narrative of fiction is made a medium of telling the stories and legends of interesting countries. The author is indebted to " Harper's Bazar," the " Ladies' Home Journal," and the " Youth's Companion " for permission to republish, stories that he had written for those periodicals ; and to Mrs. Mary A. Denison, of Washington, for an article, published in the " Youth's- Companion," on the " Columbus Doors of the Capitol." The publishers are indebted to Charles L. Webster and Co. for the use of numerous cuts illustrating the Mississippi Valley. H. B. 28 Worcester Street, Boston, Mass. CONTENTS. Chapter Page I. The Spanish Class 13 II. The Spanish Class talks of a Journey 26 III. The First America 32 IV. The Ever Faithful Isle 38 V. Arthur 59 VI. Arthur's HoiME Museum and its Relation to the Journey .... 74 VII. The Spanish Class. — Literary and Humorous Entertainments . . 83 VIII. The Columbian Doors of the Capitol. — " C6mo se llama eso?" . 106 IX. Chicago and the Great World's Fair 135 X. The Land of Lincoln 164 XI. St. Louis, the City of the Mounds and Parks 179 XII. Story-telling on the Mississippi 186 XIII. Story-telling on the Mississippi (^Continued') 203 XIV. Carnivals and Legends, New Orleans 231 XV. Among the Islands of the Great Discovery 263 XVI. At the Tomb of Columbus 305 ILLUSTRATIONS. Page The Capitol, Washington . . Frontispiece Tailpiece 25 Among the Thousand Islands .... 27 Chapultepec 29 Marquette and Joliet welcomed by the Indians 33 La Salle in search of the Mouth of the Mississippi 34 La Salle taking Possession of the Country for France 35 La Salle on the Mississippi 36 Indian Temple visited by La Salle . . 36 Charles V 39 Cardinal Ximenes 41 PhiUp II 43 Queen Isabella w Abdication of Charles V 48 The Ghost of Greylock . . , .69 A Florida Heron 75 Curiosities of the Sea 79 The White House, Washington . . . 107 The White House, Rear Entrance . . 109 The Washington Monument no The Treasury Building . . , . ' . . in The National Library 113 The Columbian Doors of the Capitol . 114 Columbus put in Irons 115 Mount Vernon from the Potomac . . . 117 Mount Vernon 120 Along the Wharves, Georgetown . . . Washington's Tomb ....... Soldiers' Cemetery at Arlington . . . Ford's Theatre, where President Lincoln was assassinated House where the President died . . . Negro Quarters Washington Navy Yard First House in Chicago Wabash Avenue, Chicago, 1870 . . . The Administration Building, Columbian Exposition The Woman's Building The Horticultural Building Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building Galleries of Fine Arts Miners' and Mining Building . . . . The Government Building Machinery Hall New State House, Springfield, Illinois . The Lincoln Monument, Springfield, 111. Abraham Lincoln The Message of Life Learning the River Lafayette A Light-keeper A Tow Tailpiece A View in Minnesota ...... Page 121 12 ILL USTRA TIONS. Page View on the River 189 A Typical Old-timer 190 A Mississippi Lumber-raft 192 The " Baton Rouge " 197 Tailpiece 202 Initial. = 203 Shipping on the Mississippi 204 View of the River near Vicksburg . . . 205 A Relic of the War 207 In the Cotton-field 213 A Picturesque View of the River . . . 219 A Steamboat Explosion 225 The Famous Run of the " Robert E. Lee" 227 Initial 231 The Crescent City 232 Canal Street, New Orleans ..... 233 Old-time Carnival Scene, New Orleans . 237 The Spanish Fort near New Orleans . 239 Mardi-Gras 240 Mardi-Gras Feats of Chivalry .... 241 Water-front, New Orleans 245 Statue of Jackson, New Orleans . . . 247 The University, New Orleans .... 248 Marquette and Joliet crossing the Great Lakes 251 Marquette and Joliet at Anchor on the Mississippi 252 A Vision of the South 255 Page De Soto 259 De Soto's Expedition in Florida . . . 260 De Soto seeing the Mississippi for the first Time .......... 261 Burial of De Soto 262 Tailpiece 262 A Bit of Florida , 264 Scenes in Florida 265 The Old Gate, St. Augustine .... 267 The Argonaut ' 268 Lighthouse on the Florida Coast . . . 269 " Colombvs Lygvr novi orbis reptor " . 272 A Glimpse of Florida 275 Florida, the Home of the Heron . . . 279 Relics of Columbus 283 Nassau Harbor 284 House of a Cuban Planter ..... 287 Islands of the Bahamas 291 Capture of a Cuttle-fish 295 A Giant Alligator 299 Kingston Harbor, Jamaica ..... 303 Cuban Beggar ' . . , 306 Havana 307 Statue of Columbus 309 A Cuban Beauty 311 Tomb of Columbus at Havana . . . . 314 The Old Cathedral, Havana 315 General View of the Alhambra . . . . 317 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. CHAPTER I. THE SPANISH CLASS. HE Spanish Class had been conjugating the verb 2>, meaning; " to go." One of the members had pronounced the first person plural of the present tense Varmouse, which had caused a smile. " If you pronounce your Spanish in that way," said the teacher, Mr. Green, " you will find yourself beyond the help of an interpreter in Spanish countries." " Let rrie hear you conjugate the verb, and I will do better in my next lesson," said the pupil. Mr. Green began : — Ir . . Togo. PreseJit. Preterite Definite. Voy . . I go {or am going). Fui . . . I went. Vas . . Thou goest. Fuiste . . Thou wentest. Va. . . He {or she) goes. Fu6 . . . He {or she) w Vamos . We go. Fuimos . . We went. Vais . . You go. Fuisteis . . You went. Van . . They go. Fueron . . They went. " That sounds like music," said the pupil. " I enjoy hearing you conjugate a Spanish verb as much as listening to a song. The Spanish language is like poetry. I have been told that my French would not 14 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. be understood in France, nor my German in Germany. I wonder if my Spanish would be comprehended in Spanish countries, or whether the people whom I met would simply shake their heads and say, ' No comprendo,' or ' No entiendo,' or ' Hableme en Espagnol ? ' " " They would hardly comprehend ' varmouse,' " said Mr. Green. " But the pronunciation of the Spanish language so closely resembles the Latin, that even a Spanish Class like this would be well under- stood in Mexico, Cuba, and South America. If you were to say el pan ^ at the table, the servant would bring you bread ; or earned he would bring you meat, or camera^ mutton, or huevos^ eggs, or queso^ cheese, or agua^ water. Add to such words deme"' (give), as Deme te (Give tea), or Deme cafe (Give coffee), or Deme leche^ (Give milk), and you would easily find your wants supplied, though after a rude and childish manner." " That is very encouraging," said the pupil. " It would be much to be fairly understood." " Yes," answered Mr. Green, " so far ; but — " « " But ? " " Yes, like the man who was willing that his son should see the world, but was reluctant to have the world see his son, the Spanish- speaking people would be likely to understand your Spanish with its hard English accent and flavor; but it is probable that you would make a mortifying exhibition of ignorance when you tried to compre- hend them. You would talk a Latin-Spanish which would be intelli- gible, like a parrot ; but when your Spanish friends came to reply in melodious phrases, full of elegant expressions of courtesy, in which several words blended as in one, I fear that you would have — " " To varmouse'' added the pupil, quickly. " Or would wish to do so." " Are Spanish manners better than ours.'' " asked the pupil. 1 pahn. 2 car'nay. ^ car-nay'roh. ^ hoo-ay'vos. ^ kay'soh. *' ah'gwah. "^ day'may. ^ lay'tchay. THE SPANISH CLASS. 15 " Spanish hearts, in my opinion, are not better than ours. But we poor, money-making Americans have but a poor education in the outward forms of poHteiiess. A Mexican /^^/^ with his poHte address would be Hkely to put to shame an American millionaire." "How?" " Let me illustrate. I was in the City of Mexico a few months ago, and was introduced to the wife of an officer in the government service. I was interested in a beautiful Mexican singing-bird, called the Clarina, or Clarine. I had seen some of these birds at the flower-market on the plaza, near the Cathedral, and had heard a few of their clear, bell-like notes. Now, I am, as you know, a member of the Ornithological Society, and I had with me my card of member- ship. I showed my card to a Mexican friend, and he told me that a lady of rank had some beautiful birds in h^x patio, and among them the fluting clarinas. He said that he w^ould secure me an introduc- tion to her through her husband, and he did so. When the gate of her casa flew open to me, and revealed a patio of birds and flowers, and salas of statues and pictures, what do you think the lady said to me } " " Howdy ? " " No." " Buenas tardes, Sehor } " " No." " Are you a book-agent .? " " No. She said, ' I give you my house, Senor.' " "She did.?" " Yes ; and what would you have said in return ? " " I would have said, ' Thank you {gracias), I will take it. I have been looking for just such a house as this all my life. When will the deeds be ready } ' " " That would have been a characteristic American answer." " But what did jyou say.? " 1 6 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. " I put my hand on my heart so, and bowed so, and said, ' You do me great honor, Senora ; ' and then I bowed again, and she bowed, and began pouring out compUments upon me as sweet as a clarina's song." " And you did n't get a deed of the house, after all ? " " No. Every Mexican lady says to a well-introduced stranger, ' My house is yours, Senor (or Sefiora).' " " And it does n't mean anything, after all? " " No. I would have been pleased had she said, ' I will give you one of my sweet-singing clarinas.' " " Did she ? " " Oh, no. I tried to hint to her that such a present would be acceptable." " What did she say .? " " She said that a very dear friend of hers had clarinas to sell, and that she would be pleased to make known to her my wishes. I asked her the price, and she said, ' T^n pesos — to an American.' " " So she was just like an American, after all, with all of her fine words ? " " No, — she really was more hospitable than most Americans. After showing me her birds, she said, ' My sala is yours.' I stepped into the sala, and was given the place of honor on a sofa. I ex- pressed my love of Spanish music, and she seated herself at the piano and sang ' La Paloma,' and afterward played a bolero, and sang the Mexican National Hymn. But let us return to the verb, Voy . . . I go." " Seiior Green," said the pupil, " I would like to become a better pupil in Spanish, and to go to Mexico. When nearly one half of the people of the American continent speak Spanish, why is not that lan- guage taught in our schools ? Why do we not study Spanish instead of the continental languages of Europe ? " " Education has its fashions, as well as society. In view of the reciprocity treaties with Mexico and South America ; of the great I THE SPANISH CLASS. 17 railroad that is to connect all of the North and South American Re- publics, of the subsidized steamers to South American ports, and of the Nicaraguan Canal, the Spanish language must of necessity be- come a part of our system of education. It will soon be the language of trade, as well as of art, music, and poetry. So you see what an in- centive you have to study it well, and not varmouse too speedily." The members of the Spanish Class consisted of Mr. Green, the teacher. Miss Green, Misses Brown and Gray, and Mr. Diaz, who be- longed to an American-Spanish family. They were young people, and intimate friends ; and the class met twice a week in the parlors of Mr. and Mrs. Green, the parents of Miss Green, who often passed an hour with them after a recitation. It was the usage of the class to have literary exercises in Spanish history, art, or music after each recitation. To these exercises they sometimes invited their friends. Mr. Green often sfave recitations from the " Cid " or " Don Quixote." Misses Brown and Gray played the mandolin, and Mr. Diaz the guitar. Readings from Prescott's " Conquest of Peru," " Conquest of Mexico," and " Ferdinand and Isabella," from Irving's " Conquest of Granada " and " Columbus," from Barlow's " Columbiad," and Lockhart's " Spanish Ballads," and Mrs. Hemans's historical poems of Spain, formed a part of these entertainments. But the favorite selections of the class, which -were asked for again and again by their friends, were a musical rendering of the always popular " Spanish Cavalier," with piano accompaniment to two mandolins, a mandolin solo called "The Spanish Fantasy," and a humorous reading by Miss Brown, entitled " The Spanish Duel." It may be that some of my young readers will like to form a Spanish Class like the one we are describing, and we may say that this picture is very nearly from real life. So I will present from time to time some of the literary exercises of the class ; and we will close this chapter by copying the favorite humorous selection, " The Spanish Duel," of unknown authorship : — ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. Near the city of Sevilla, Years and years ago, Dwelt a lady in a villa, Years and years ago ; And her hair was black as night, And her eyes were starry bright ; Olives on her brow were blooming, Roses red her lips perfuming, And her step was light and airy As the tripping of a fairy; When she spoke, you thought, each minute, 'T was the trilling of a linnet ; When she sang, you heard a gush Of full-voiced sweetness like a thrush ; And she struck from the guitar Ringing music, sweeter far Than the morning breezes make Through the lime-trees when they shake, — Than the ocean murmuring o'er Pebbles on the foamy shore. Orphaned both of sire and mother Dwelt she in that lonely villa, Absent now her guardian brother On a mission from Sevilla. Skills it little now the telling How I wooed that maiden fair, Tracked her to her lonely dwelling And obtained an entrance there. Ah ! that lady of the villa — And I loved her so. Near the city of Sevilla, Years and years ago. Ay de mi ! — Like echoes falling Sweet and sad and low. Voices come at night, recalling Years and years ago Once again I 'm sitting near thee, Beautiful and bright : Once again I see and hear thee In the autumn night ; Once again I 'm whispering to thee Falterin"- words of love ; THE SPANISH CLASS. Once again with song I woo tliee In tlie orange grove Growing near that lonely villa Where the waters flow Down to the city of Se villa — Years and years ago. 'Twas an autumn eve ; the splendor Of the day was gone, And the twilight, soft and tender, Stole so gently on That the eye could scarce discover How the shadows, spreading over. Like a veil of silver gray, Toned the golden clouds, sun-painted. Till they paled, and paled, and fainted From the face of heaven away. And a dim light, rising slowly, O'er the welkin spread, Till the blue sky, calm and holy, Gleamed above our head ; And the thin moon, newly nascent, Shone in glory meek and sweet, As Murillo paints her crescent Underneath Madonna's feet. And we sat outside the villa Where the waters flow Down to the city of Sevilla — Years and years ago. There we sate — the mighty river Wound its serpent course along Silent, dreamy Guadalquivir, Famed in many a song. Silver gleaming 'mid tlie plain Yellow with the golden grain, Gliding down through deep, rich meadow Where the sated cattle rove. Stealing underneath the shadows Of the verdant olive grove : With its plentitude of waters, Ever flowing calm and slow, Loved by Andalusia's daughters, Sung by poets long ago. 20 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. Seated half within a bower Where the languid evening breeze Shook out odors in a shower From oranges and citron trees, Sang she from a romancero, How a Moorish chieftain bold Fought a Spanish caballero By Sevilla's walls of old ; How they battled for a lady, Fairest of the maids of Spain, — How the Christian's lance, so steady. Pierced the Moslem through the brain. Then she ceased ; her black eyes, moving, Flashed, as asked she with a smile, '• Say, are maids as fair and loving. Men as faithful, in your isle ? " " British maids," I said, " are ever Counted fairest of the fair ; Like the swans on yonder river Moving with a stately air. " Wooed not quickly, won not lightly, But when won, forever true ; Trial draws the bond more tightly. Time can ne'er the knot undo." •' And the men ? " — " Ah ! dearest lady, Are — quien sabe ? who can say ? To make love they 're ever ready. Where they can and where they may ; " Fixed as waves, as breezes steady In a changeful April day — Como brisas, como rios. No se sabe, sabe Dios." " Are they faithful ? " — " Ah ! quien sabe ? Who can answer that they are ? While we may we should be happy." — Then I took up her guitar, And I sang in sportive strain, This song to an old air of Spain. THE SPANISH CLASS. 2 1 QuiEN Sabe ? "The breeze of the evening that cools the hot air, That kisses the orange and shakes out thy hair, Is its freshness less welcome, less sweet its perfume. That you know not the region from which it is come ? Whence the wind blows, where the wind goes. Hither and thither and whither — who knows ? Who knows ? Hither and thither — but whither — who knows ? ■ The river forever glides singing along, , The rose on the bank bends down to its song ; And the flower, as it listens, unconsciously dips, Till the rising wave glistens and kisses its lips. But why the wave rises and kisses the rose, And why the rose stoops for those kisses — who knows ? Who knows ? And away flows the river — but whither — who knows ? ni. " Let j?ie be the breeze, love, that wanders along The river that ever rejoices in song ; Be thou to my fancy the orange in bloom, The rose by the river that gives its perfume. Would the fruit be so golden, so fragrant the rose, If no breeze and no wave were to kiss them .? Who knows ? Who knows ? If no breeze and no wave were to kiss them? Who knows 1" As I sang, the lady listened. Silent save one gentle sigh : When I ceased, a tear-drop glistened On the dark fringe of her eye. Then my heart reproved the feeling Of that false and heartless strain W'hich I sang in words concealing What my heart would liide in vain. 2 2 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. Up I sprang. What words were uttered Bootless now to think or tell, — Tongues speak wild when hearts are fluttered By the mighty master spell. Love, avowed with sudden boldness, Heard with flushings that reveal, Spite of woman's studied coldness. Thoughts the heart cannot conceal. Words half-vague and passion-broken, Meaningless, yet meaning all That the lips have left unspoken, That we never may recall. " Magdalena, dearest, hear me," Sighed I, as I seized her hand — " Hola ! Sefior," very near me, Cries a voice of stern command. And a stalwart caballero Comes upon me with a stride, On his head a slouched sombrero, A toledo by his side. From his breast he flung his capa With a stately Spanish air — (On the whole, he looked the chap a Man to slight would scarcely dare.) "Will your worship have the goodness To release that lady's hand .?" " Senor," I replied, " this rudeness I am not prepared to stand. " Magdalena, say — " The maiden, With a cry of wild surprise, As with secret sorrow laden, Fainting sank before my eyes. Then the Spanish caliallero Bowed with haughty courtesy, Solemn as a tragic hero. And announced himself to me. THE SPANISH CLASS. 'Senor, I am Don Camillo Guzman Miguel Pedrillo De Xymenes y Ribera Y Santallos y Herrera Y de Rivas y Alendoza Y Ouintana y de Rosa Y Zorilla y — " '' No more, sir, 'T is as good as twenty score, sir," Said I to liim, witli a frown ; " Mucha bulla para nada, No palabras, draw your 'spada ; If you 're up for a duello You will find I 'm just your fellow — Senor, I am Peter Brown ! " By the river's bank that night, Foot to foot in strife, Fought we in the dubious light A fight of death or life. Don Camillo slashed my shoulder, With the pain I grew the bolder. Close and closer still I pressed ; Fortune favored me at last, I broke his guard, my weapon passed Through the caballero's breast — Down to the earth went Don Camillo Guzman Miguel Pedrillo De Xymenes y Ribera Y Santallos y Herrera Y de Rivas y Mendoza Y Ouintana y de Rosa Y Zorilla y — One groan. And he lay motionless as stone. The man of many names went down, Pierced by the sword of Peter Brown ! Kneeling down, I raised his head ; The caballero faintly said : " Senor Ingles, fly from Spain With all speed, for you have slain A Spanish noble, Don Camillo Guzman Miguel Pedrillo De Xymenes y Ribera Y Santallos y Herrera ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. Y de Rivas y Mendoza Y Ouintana y de Rosa Y Zorilla y — " He swooned With the bleeding from his wound. If he be living still, or dead, ' I never knew, I ne'er shall know. That night from Spain in haste I fled, Years and years ago. Oft when autumn eve is closing, Pensive, puffing a cigar, In my chamber lone reposing. Musing half, and half a-dozing, Comes a vision from afar Of that lady of the villa In her satin, fringed mantilla. And that haughty caballero With his capa and sombrero, Vainly in my mind revolving That long, jointed, endless name : 'T is a riddle past my solving, Who he was or whence he came. Was he that brother home returned ? Was he some former lover spurned ? Or some {■xnvA^ fiance That the lady did not fancy ? Was he any one of those ? Sabe Dios. Ah 1 God knows. Sadly smoking my manilla. Much I long to know How fares the lady of the villa That once charmed me so. When I visited Sevilla Years and years ago. Has she married a Hidalgo? Gone the way that ladies all go lu those drowsy Spanish cities. Wasting life — a thousand pities — Waking up for a fiesta From an afternoon siesta, To " Giralda " now repairing, Or the Plaza fcr an airing ; At the shaded rcjn flirting. At a bull-fight now disporting ; THE SPANISH CLASS. ?S Does slie walk at evenings ever Through the gardens by the river ? Guarded by an old duenna Fierce and sharp as a hyena, With her goggles and her fan Warning off each wicked man ? Is she dead, or is she living ? Is she for my absence grieving ? Is she wretched, is she happy? Widow, wife, or maid ? Ouien sabe ? CHAPTER II. THE SPANISH CLASS TALKS OF A JOURNEY. HE reason for the forming of our Spanish Class may be of interest to the reader. Mr. Green was a teacher, and had travelled in Mexico, and Mr. Diaz was a lover of Spanish art ; but Misses Brown and Gray originated the class, and called to their instruction the accomplished Mr. Green and Mr. Diaz. The four studied for a time, with only Mr. and Mrs. Green and little Arthur Green to note their progress. Mr. Green and his wife at first accompanied their daughter and son Arthur to the class meetings at the houses of the young ladies and Mr. Diaz, as specially invited guests. They were prosperous people, and soon became so much interested in the class as to invite the meeting to their parlors, and to suggest that entertainments in Spanish music and literature follow the lessons of the class. These entertainments came to be attended by the special friends of the four pupils, and the meetings of the class at last formed quite a social feature of the communitv. Misses Brown and Gray had been promised by their fathers a vacation tour in Europe. Among the countries that they had planned to visit was Spain, or Andalusia. They had read Irving's " Alhambra," and had pictured to themselves the beauties of the Valley of the Darro. To prepare for this visit they had taken up the study of colloquial Spanish, and so formed the class. THE SPANISH CLASS TALKS OF A JOURNEY. 27 Little Arthur Green was not a member of the class, but attended the meetings by permission, Mr. Green, the teacher, a cousin of the Green family, often spoke r^ to the class of the beau- ties and an- y' tiquities of Mexico, and ^ ?'''"'' Mr. Diaz of his visits to Cuba and Caracas. At one of the meetings, when Mr. Green had been describine the poetic antiquities of the Valley of Mexico, such as the Sacrificial Stone, the Shield of Montezuma II., and the mysterious inscriptions in the grand Museum near the President's Palace, Mr. Green, the father of Miss Green and Arthur, said, — " Mexico is the American Egypt, and the Gulf of Mexico our Mediterranean. What in all the world can be more interesting than the pyramids of this ancient land.'* I would rather see the ruins AMONG THE THOUSAND ISLANDS. 28 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. of the halls of the Montezumas than the temples of the Pharaohs ! If I were to travel, I would begin in my own land. I would go to the Great Lakes, to the Thousand Islands, to the Valley of the Mississippi, and to the Gulf and the table-lands of Mexico. I would see the Islands of the Discovery, and the tomb of Columbus in Havana. I would travel first at home, and then abroad." " Therg would be but little to surprise an American abroad after he had seen his own lands," said Mr. Diaz. " The Valley of the City of Mexico is more beautiful than Italy. The Sierra Madre is more grand than the Apennines, and Popocatepetl than Vesuvius. Nothing on earth can exceed the beauty of the paseo of the City of Mexico, from the official palace to Chapultepec, with its statues of the Montezumas and ancient and modern heroes. The sky is azure ; the air is a living splendor; the mountains which glisten with snow an eternal glory. No birds can sing sweeter than the clarinas ; no roses are more luxuriant than the Mexican, — there are said to be a hundred varieties. In Mexico everything seems to live. Romance is there. One dreams of the Toltecs, the Aztecs, the Montezumas, the Viceroys, and the Dons. Here caciques were tortured for gold ; here came the Viceroys, and among them the poetic Salvia- tierra and the romantic Galves. The latter lifted the white pile of Chapultepec into the clear air, and gave the name to the Texan city of Galveston. Here Cortes came, and wept on the sad night near the wonderful walls, under the cypress. At Guadeloupe the angels were believed to have been heard singing in the air. You may not believe the legend, but it shows a poetic mind. The so- called " Halls of the Montezumas " may be airy imaginings, and the pyramids vanishing ruins, but where else can we find such scenic splendors and poetic charms ? Mexico only needs education to make her the most lovely country in the world." "You and Mr. Green would almost make one give up one's purpose of first travelling abroad," said Miss Brown. THE SPANISH CLASS TALKS OF A JOURXEY. 29 " I would rather go to the tomb of Columbus than to the tombs of the old European kings," said Mr. Green, Senior. " Now I have a proposal to make to the Spanish Class. My wife and I are be- coming gray-haired. I have been quite successful in my business, as you well know. If the class will make a tour with my wife and me to Chicago, St. Louis, and down the Mississippi Valley to New Orleans and Tampa, and through the Islands of the Discovery to CHAPULTEPEC. the tomb of Columbus, I will pay all of the expenses. I will study Spanish with you on our way, and will take my boy Arthur as my special company. What do you all say } " "You are very kind, Mr. Green," said Miss Brown; "but we have our European journey already planned." " Go to Europe another year. See our own Rhine Valley, our own Mediterranean first. I have worked hard for many years, and it would make me perfectly happy to go on such a journey with a 30 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. party of young people like you. I will treat you all with the crenerosity, so far as I am able, of a 'fine old English gentleman.' You shall want for nothing that I can supply." " You will even give us rooms in the old palace hotel of the Iturbide.^" said Mr. Green, the teacher. " Yes, if my purse is deep enough for that." Miss Brown was silent. She could not forget that custom went to Europe. Miss Gray did not speak; but little Arthur Green looked over the back of his mother's chair, and gave a persuasive glance at each of the young ladies, and then pointed down to his mother, who did not see him. Poor Mrs. Green ! How beautiful and patient she looked ! Her hair was gray, her face very white. She had struggled with her husband in the days when their means were small. As the family became prosperous, one after another of her children had died, until only one daughter and little Arthur were left. Her bereavements made her a mother to every one. She worked in the church, the hospital, everywhere that she was needed. She had never sought pleasure at popular resorts. Her heart was always engaged in quiet duties. The picture of Arthur pointing down from the high chair to his' mother's gray hair was persuasive. " Let us go to the Mississippi Valley and Mexico," said Miss Brown. " Yes," answered Miss Gray. " Let us go there first, and how grateful we ought to be for such an opportunity ! Mr. Green, we thank you." " Did ever a prince have such subjects.''" said Mr. Green, quoting Withington. " Did ever a subject have such a prince } " said Miss Brown, quoting from the same old story. "And now," said Mr. Green, "let us hear again the Mexican National Hymn. That shall celebrate our decision." THE SPANISH CLASS TALKS OF A JOURNEY. The Mexican National Hymn is indeed a patriotic inspiration. Seldom has grand national music been wedded to such noble words. The Mexicans themselves are very proud of it. The Government allows it to be played only on patriotic occasions and at pfesidential receptions. It is always played to announce the coming and reception of the President. The class were good singers, and the quartette made the parlors ring with the thrilling inspiration. The words and music must have interest to our readers, and especially to any who are studying Spanish, and have not seen them, or to any about to enter a Spanish class. The song is very effective for concert use, and may be sung in Spanish-Mexican costume. NATIONAL HYMN. CORO. Mexicanos, al grito de guerra El acero aprestad y el briddn, Y retiemble en sus centres \\ tierra, Al sonoro rugir del canon. Cina joh patria ! tus .siencs de oliva De la paz el arcangle divino, Que en el cielo tu eterno dcstino Por el dedo de Dios se escribid. Mas si osare un extrano enemigo Profanar con su planta tu cuelo, Piensa joh patria querida ! ciue el cielo Un soldado en cada hijo te did. CoRO. En sangrientos combates los viste, Por tu amor palpitando sus senos, Arrostrar la metralla serenos, Y la muerte 6 la gloria buscar. Si el recuerdo de antiguas hazanas De tus hijos inflama la mente, Los laureles del triunfo tu frente Volverdn inmortales d ornar. CORO. Chorus. At the loud cry of war all assemble, Then your swords and your steeds all prepare; And the earth to its centre shall tremble, When the cannon's deep roar rends the air. Oh ! my country, entwine on thy temples Boughs of olive so fresh and so vernal, When inscribed in the heavens eternal Blessed peace for all the land thou dost see. But if stranger and foe in their boldness Dare to tread on thy soil, they must perish. Then, oh! my country, this thought only cherish; Every son is but a soldier for thee. Chorus. Thou hast seen them in deadliest battle, Love for thee their proud bosoms inflati Stand serenely, the bullet awaiting. Even joyful seeking glory or death. If the mem'ry of those Ancient combats Fill thy sons with a zeal that is burning, Will they, with laurels of triumph returning, Sing thy glory with their last feeble breath. Chorus. CHAPTER III. THE FIRST AMERICA. HE tour that we have planned," said Mr. Green, Senior, after one of the lessons of the Spanish Class, " is really to early First America. Latin America had a hundred years of thrilling his- tory before the coming of the ' Mayflower.' This history is associated with the islands of the Spanish main, Mexico, and Florida, and later, in the seventeenth century, with the great Mississippi Valley. So we are going to old America. " Champlain saw Lake Huron in 1615; and Nicollet Lake Michigan in 1634. The first Europeans to see the Illinois were Marquette and Joliet in 1673. They were hailed by the Indians with peace-pipes, as they ascended the Illinois River. Would that the prophecies of those peace-pipes had been fulfilled ! " After them came La Salle and Tonti, zigzagging on the stream towards the Mississippi. La Salle gathered the Indian tribes around a fort called St. Louis, near what is now Starved Rock. Kaskaskia was founded as a mission, and so the evolution of the empire of the great Mississippi Valley began. The country was governed from Quebec and New Orleans. " The great valley saw the French flag, the Spanish flag, and the English flag rise and disappear. It saw the romantic mission of Kaskaskia rise, ring its bells, and vanish. The Illini were starved to THE FIRST AMERICA. 33 death at old Fort St. Louis, by being surrounded by their enemies, — one of the most dramatic events of any history ; for the old tribes perished with thirst and fever, with the lovely Illinois flowing full in view. "The romances of the great Mississippi Valley remain to be written. No romancer or poet has touched them, no composer sung them. " If we bound the Valley by the Alleghanies on one side, and the Rocky Mountains on the, other, what 0|ll a stupendous em- vMxi pire it is! Any of the leading countries of Eu- rope would be lost in it ! New France in Amer- ica was immense- ly greater than old France, and the new Spain of our Continent than old Spain. England and Scotland would MARQUETTE AND JOLIET WELCOMED BY THE INDIANS. be mere dots on this magnificent territory. llM't ^^\\ " Narvaez of the expedition of De Soto visited Louisiana in 1542, in his rude brigantines ; and earlier by two years Coronado had rested by the Moqui pueblos. So you see we are going through the valleys of the First America. And when travel becomes a part of our system of American education, this is the first tour that the student should make." " So we must all study hard," said Arthur. " Como se llama eso } " 3 34 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. (What do you call this?) he asked of Miss Gray, holding up a rail- road ticket. " No comprendo, Senor," answered Miss Gray. " Then how do you expect we shall ever get there ? " asked Arthur, good-humoredly. "No comprendo, Sefior (I do not understand)." LA SALLE IN SEARCH OF THE MOUTH OF THE MISSISSIPPI. " Deme usted un cerillo," said Arthur, "and I will retire." " No comprendo, Sefior." " Adios," said Arthur; and the class in chorus replied, — " Buenas noches ! " Although Arthur was not a member of the class, he learned much by listening to the others; and his little jokes often stimulated study. He often asked questions of Mr. Green, the teacher, about the language. " I would not like to be swindled when I am in Cuba," he said THE FIRST AMERICA. 35 'One day to Mr. Green, after an hour with the class. " What is a dollar in Spanish ? " " Un peso," ^ said Mr. Green. LA SALLE TAKING POSSESSION OF THE COUNTRY FOR FRANCE. " And a quarter of a dollar ? " ■' A real is twelve and a half cents ; dos reaCes would be twenty- hve cents, and cuatro reales fifty cents. A one-cent piece is called ientavo, six and a quarter cents arc called a medio, and one dollar in gold, esciidito de oror " What are the Spanish words for ' how much '? " " Simply the word ' quanto.' " " ' Gracias, Senor.' Is that ric^ht ? " 1 pa 'so. 36 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. LA SALLE ON THE MISSISSIPPL '"Si, Senor,' or more politely, ' Mil gracias (A thousand thanks), Senor '." In preparation for his visit to the great Mis- sissippi Valley, Arthur read the works of Park- man, and the History of the Civil War. Park- man's " Life of La Salle " and the " Pioneers of ^'^-' J France in the New World" opened to him a vision of wonderful hi'story of which he had never before dreamed. " I love to travel in imagination," he said one day to his father; "and whether I real- ly go on this journey or not, I have already bcc7t in anticipa- tion, and have liad a real good time." The class had first enter- tained the plan of taking Mex- ^mmmm '\^-'>->' •' "-^^^-^^HfiBIiBE INDIAN TEMPLE VISITED BY LA SALLE. THE FIRST AMERICA. 37 ico into their journey, but finally decided to go only to those Mexi- can places that are directly associated with the Columbian Discovery and the World's Fair, Chicago, the Mississippi Valley, and the Spanish Main. Mr. Green fere gave up the purpose of going to glorious old Mexico reluctantly, but saw that it would be well to follow strictly historical lines in the educational journey, which he hoped to make a useful as well as entertaining outing. He saw the future in the pres- ent of all that enters into young people's lives, and so arranged the journey with the historical impression in view. CHAPTER IV. THE EVER FAITHFUL ISLE. Romances of the Columbian Seas. — " Crazy Jane." — The Great American Legend: "^T^HEN Arthur Green saw the prospect of making a tour through the Mississippi Valley to the Co- lumbian Seas and Islands of the Discovery, he be- came a student of books that pictured the old history of these places. He read Prescott and Janvier. He bought a Spanish phrase-book, and began the study of a Spanish grammar. He read the story of the Cid, and asked that his Christmas present might be a Spanish -edition of " Don Quixote." He had read Irving's works on Spanish history before he had thought of the Mexican journey. He would greet his sister in the morning with a light, happy, ban- tering jargon of Spanish words, somewhat as follows : — " Buenos dias, Senorita! ^ (Good-day!) Cdmo esta usted.'' '-^ (How arc you ? ) Que hora es ? ^ (What time is it ? ) " To such salutations and interrogations his sister would commonly answer, " Si, Serior,"or" Si, Caballcro," without regard to the fitness of the musical words to the question. His mother, although a quiet home woman, was a reader of the best books. In his historical reading he found in her an interested and intelligent adviser. ' liuay'nohs dec'ahs, sain-yo re'ta. - Co'nioh es-tah' oos-tayth'.'' ^ Kay oh'rah ess .'' THE EVER FAITHFUL ISLE. 39 He one day heard Mr. Diaz speak of Cuba as "the ever faithful isle." The expression is poetic, and excites curiosity ; and he asked his mother its meaning. " It is a title which the Spanish Court and people were proud to bestow upon Cuba," said Mrs. Green, " because the island has always been faithful to the Spanish Crown. Cuba was not the first name given to the island; Columbus named it Juana." "After 'Crazy Jane,'" said Mr. Green. " It was a very appro- priate name. She was as faithful as the island of Cuba has been." " Crazy Jane } " The name suggested a story. Who was Juana, or " Crazy Jane," and how had she been so faithful } STORY OF CRAZY JANE, THE DAUGHTER OF ISABELLA. " I will tell you," said Mrs. Green, in answer to such inquiries. "Juana, or ' Crazy Jane ' as she has been thoughtlessly called, — for it seems to me unkind to refer to the infirmities of such a woman in that way, — was a daughter of Isabella, and the mother of Charles V. . You must read Robertson's ' Charles V.' She lost her mind when a young woman, and she watched over the dead body of her husband for nearly half a century, and took no interest in the great history that the world was then mak- ing. So you see she was faithful to him'' " Who was her husband } " asked Arthur. " Philip the Handsome, Arch-duke of Austria." " Was Juana beautiful ? " " No, she was plain, poor woman ; and this was one of the causes that overthrew her mind, and made her melancholy." ^O ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. " But she was great ? " " Yes, as the mother of Charles V." " I am interested in this woman, whose name was given to Cuba. You say that she was great as the mother of Charles V. Who was Charles V ? " " He was an Emperor of Germany, born at Ghent in 1500, eight years after the discovery of America by Columbus. He was an heir to the Spanish throne ; and when he was sixteen years of age he became Kino- of Spain, reigning in place of his mother, Juana, who wished for no kingdom but the tomb of her husband. The famous diplomat Ximenes was the leading mind in the state during the reign of the young kino:. At the aQ:e of nineteen he succeeded to the throne of Ger- many, and was crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1520, and received from the Pope the title of Emperor of Rome. He was the Emperor of the days of the Reformation. It was in 1 521, in the early part of his reign, that the Diet at Worms was called, which may be said to have changed the religious and political events of the world." " I now begin to see his place in history," said Arthur. " He was the Emperor of the days of Luther. He conquered the world." " A great part of the European world," said Mrs. Green. " He subdued Castile, overcame the Turks, drove the French from Italy, made Francis I. a prisoner, and while yet a youth became master of continental Europe. At the age of twenty-five the son of un- happy Juana was king among kings, and the greatest emperor in the world." " Did his mother share the glory ? " asked Arthur. "No; only in fame. She took no interest in these events; and the knowledge that she was the mother of the Emperor of the world never brought a smile to her face. Her heart had been crushed in her young years, and it seemed to have become incapable of happiness or affection." " What became of Charles V..?" asked Arthur. CARDINAL XIMENES. THE EVER FAITHFUL ISLE. 43 " He took Rome by storm, plundered it, and made a prisoner of the Pope. War followed war, in which he was generally successful. But in middle life he became a victim of the melancholy of his mother, gave up his throne to his son, and retired to a monastery, where he PHILIP II, passed two years in dejection, gloom, and the renunciation of all things. In this darkness he died. He was the father of Philip II. of Spain." " Philip II. ? " asked Arthur. " He had a strange history." " Brilliant and dark," said Mrs. Green. " You must read Prcscott. Philip was cold, haughty, and politic from his childhood. He inherited the melancholy of his blood, and the shadow was apparent in his early 44 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. years. He was not like other boys. His teachers could not mould him. He was the heartless husband of ' Bloody Mary,' or Mary Tudor; and Mexico and Peru and the Spanish main were a part of his vast dominions." QUEEN ISABELLA. " He was the king who caused the fitting out of the Invincible Armada.?" " Yes, and the one who set in order the Inquisition. His reli- gious zeal injured the very cause he espoused, and he left a dark name on his age. He was very religious but very cruel, and his character was one of singular contradictions." ' " But," said Arthur, " tell me now the story of Juana." " I know of no story in history that is more pathetic," said Mrs. THE EVER FAITHFUL ISLE. 45 Green. " When Columbus visited the Court of Isabella, he must have met there a dark, plain-looking girl, who was interesting only from the position that she would be likely to occupy in the world. But she was the daughter of Isabella, and the hope of the royal family ; and these associations must have impressed the mind of Columbus. Of all the islands of the great discovery, Cuba, as it is now called, was the most wonderful and beautiful ; and to this crown jewel of the Western seas Columbus gave the name of J nana. " The unhappiness of the young princess arose from disappointed love. She married while very young, and loved her husband with a passion that consumed her mind and heart. He did not return her love. With him the marriage was merely a political event. He was very handsome ; she was homely. Her devotion to him disgusted him, and he neglected her. But notwithstanding his neglect and aversion, her love for him becam.e her life. Fame was nothing, power was nothing, family ties nothing, if she might have the heart of Philip. Her only desire in life was for his love. She was a beggar for his affection, and for that only. In comparison with his love, kingdoms were mere earth to her, and crowns were dust. She followed him everywhere ; his smile was her joy, and his neglect her misery. " He was untrue to her in every way. She knew it, but would not admit it. Whatever he might be or do, she was resolved to be true to him ; and she was true. "She pained Isabella by her want of interest in affairs of state. The Court saw her morbid conduct with anxiety. She was a slave to a passion so absorbing as to unfit her to become a true queen. " The crisis came : Philip died. Her heart seemed to die with him. She caused his dead body to be kept in her room for a long time, in hope that it would revive. She followed it from one part of the country to another, on its long journey to the tomb, watching over it by night under the moon and stars, and once causing the coffin to be opened in the vain hope that life would return. Mrs. Moulton, in a short poem, thus tells the touching story : — 46 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. THE VIGIL OF QUEEN JUANA. Over the desert ways, The yellow sands of Spain, Wandered through weary days The mad Queen, '' Crazy Jane ; " Walking beside the bier Whereon he lay, at last, Philippe le Bel, her dear, False lord, by Death held fast. Daughter of noble race. Anointed Queen of Spain, In her unsheltered face Daslied the unpitying rain. By the fierce sun opprest She sought no green, soft nook, — She laid her down to rest ^ Beside no babbling brook. Straight on through day and night SJie held her lonely way, For whom no fresh delight Could spring, by night or day. Through sad Life's loss and pain She loved, whom Love forgot, Till Death restored again Her lord who loved her not. To Tordesillas-height She bore her dead so dear, And there, by day and night, Watched still beside his bier. Till forty-seven long years Of watching and despair, Of weariness and tears, Had found and left her there; And t!ien, grown old and gray, Feeble and scant of breath. The mad Queen passed away To the vast realm of Death. THE EVER FAirHEUL fSLE. 47 Found she her own again ? Did he who worked her woe Reward her life's long pain With bh'ss that none can know ? The h'ps of Death are dumb. The answer who can tell ? No news shall ever come If they be ill or well. " Juana watched by the dead body of Philippe le Bel (or Philip the Beautiful) ior foriy-sevejiyedirs. Kingdoms rose and fell ; her son ascen- ded the throne of the world ; the new world uncovered its wonders : the grandest events of history passed, but she heeded not any event. Her heart was in that one golden coffin, faithful to a heart that had never been faithful to her. Her life fed on the dream of how happy she might have been had this man only loved her. In this dream of what might have been she died, withered and old. " There are some events in the life of Tuana that are amone the most curious in history. In her watch by the dead for nearly fifty years, she was in matters of state a queen, and her name appeared on all great state papers. "Again, the Spanish people so loved her as the daughter of Isabella, and as one who had been cruelly wronged in her affections, that they reverenced her both as a woman and queen, although she seems to have taken little notice of this touching loyalty, and was apparently indifferent to it. She .seemed to care only to be known as one whose heart died with her great love, and was buried in the shadows of her sorrow. " And again, — what a subject for a poem or for the painter's art ! — it was at the time of her death, that Charles V., her son, the great and terrible Emperor, resolved to resign the thrones of the world for a cloister. The two in reality went out of history at nearly the same time, both of them weary of the world and all of its affairs." 48 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. " This is one of the strangest stories I have ever heard," said Arthur. " Did Charles V. sympathize with his mother? " " She was as if dead to him. He feared her malady, and he used to pray that he might never lose his reason. His last days were full of the bigotry of a misled conscience, of sincere piety, and of most pic- turesque and dramatic incidents. You may read it all in Robertson's ABDICATION OF CHARLES V. Charles V. There are few things more unfortunate in religion than a morbid mind ; and the church has had to suffer for the mental clouds of these royal people in such a way as almost to dim the glory of Isabella." " I am glad that Columbus remembered Juana in the days of triumph," said Arthur. THE EVER FAITHFUL ISLE. 49 "I always thought his tribute to Juana was one of the beautiful incidents of life," said Mrs. Green. " In the royal tombs of Granada," she continued, " sleep Ferdi- nand and Isabella, and beside them the bodies of Philippe le Bel and poor Juana, his unhappy wife; all beyond the reach of glory or passion or sorrow. I would like to visit these tombs." "We shall visit the tomb of Columbus at Havana.? " said Arthur. " Yes ; we hope to do so." " I shall think of Juana there. Will you not } " "Yes, my dear Arthur." The story of Juana, or Joanna, greatly interested Arthur in the studies of the club. One evening when the romances of Inez de Castro and Bernardo del Carpio had been related in the class, Mr. Green, the teacher, said : " The great Spanish romance, which is likely to become the representative legend of America, is the vision of Ponce de Leon." He added : " All nations have some great legend which represents the spirit of their history. In Germany it is the Rheingold, which Wagner has made eternal by his heroic music ; in England it is King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, or the search for the Holy Grail. It was so with Greece in the tale of the Argonauts, and with Rome in the voyages of ^^neas. The story of Joseph is the spiritual prophecy of the Jews, and that of Buddha and the Bo-tree, of the Hindus. " The legend of Ponce de Leon represents the struggle of the soul for larger knowledge and higher attainment, of the dreams of the z^*?^/ finding the real. That is America. It is the most beautiful allegory of America's life and mission. "Already the legend is beginning Xo take form. It has been put into solid art in the palace hotel at St. Augustine. Poetry and music will follow in its development as in the legends of old." 4 50 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. " I hope that we may visit Porto Rico," said Miss Green. " That was the scene of Ponce de Leon's visions, was it not ? " " Yes," said Mr. Diaz ; " and there are many romantic incidents associated with the legend that are not well known. I will try to relate them at some future meeting of the club. If possible we must visit Porto Rico, the most beautiful of the Antilles, a part of our journey." Mr. Diaz had interested the class. At a meeting held a few weeks after this introduction of the legend, he related the following story : — AMERICA'S GREAT LEGEND; OR, THE ROMANCE OF PONCE DE LEON. Ponce de Leon ^ was a page in the Court of Spain, in the days of the rise of Ferdinand and Isabella. Among the wonder tales of his youth were the wars of Granada, and later the expulsion of the Moors. The boy page had an active imagination ; it is said that he was an attendant of a prince, and afterward a secretary or page of an officer of rank and influence. He was in hearing of all the exciting news of the times as he grew to manhood : he became a soldier, and won fame in the Conquest of Granada ; and the triumphs of Colum- bus filled his soul with a desire to visit the lands beyond the sea. In the year 1493 he set sail with Columbus from the port of Cadiz for the Western World. The fleet consisted of seventeen ships and fifteen hundred men. The expedition is known as the second voyage of Columbus. It was on this voyage that Columbus discovered Jamaica and the Caribbean Islands, and that the wliilom page first saw those green paradises of the inirple seas to which he was destined to return as governor, and thence to be led by his poetic and pro- phetic dreams to find tlie solid land of the continent of America. ' Pronounced Pon'tha da Lay-on'. THE EVER FAITHFUL ISLE. 5 1 Ponce de Leon, although he was a poet, was a brave and valorous man, and excelled in the arts of war as well as of peace. The world has had some imaginative warriors ; he was one, and what he saw in his dreams he executed in his active life. He saw the palmy islands about Hispaniola, and obtained permission from Governor Ovando to lead an expedition to them in search of gold. He sailed away with Spaniards, Indians, and interpreters, his hori- zon full of golden visions. Nor \vas he disappointed. The cacique of one of the islands led him to a river whose crystal waters ran over stones and pebbles that were veined with gold, and Ponce returned to Hispaniola a happy man. Happy } But what would be the use of rivers paved with gold, if death were close at hand ? Here were islands like paradises ; the air seemed celestial ; birds sang all the day, and llowers carpeted the earth. Here the soil supported the inhabitants ; bread grew on the trees, and fountains sang in the shadows. Here people lived to love each other. They had an eternal father in the sun which provided them with all things. Why should they die here? In 1509 Ponce de Leon was appointed Governor of Porto Rico, the land of the golden rivers ; and but for the shadow of the thought of death, his happiness would have been complete. An earthly para- dise, honors, gold, and everything but a promise of continued exist- ence ! He subdued the Indians, and began to rule right royally. The Indians at first thought that the Spaniards were as immortal as they desired to be. But after a time they began to doubt the fair gods' immortality. One of them resolved to test his doubt by drop- ping a Spaniard whom he was carrying over a river into the water, and allowing him to drown. He put his plan into execution ; and the body of the drowned Spaniard did not re\ive, although the Indian watched it for three days. " Mortal like us," said the Indians. Then the caciques combined and waged war against the Spaniards, and the golden realm of Ponce ^2 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. de Leon was as unquiet as other places of the earth where human passions rule and the law of equal right is disregarded. The Indians burned his villages, and drove him into a fortress, and held him a virtual prisoner. He was however reinforced from Hispaniola, when the Indians thought that the Spaniards whom they had killed had come to life again, and the belief in the immortality of the people " from the skies " was revived. In the midst of his troubles and altered fortunes, Ponce de Leon was relieved of his position as Governor, or Adelantado, by the king. He was now greatly depressed. In this state of mind he one day met some venerable Indians whom he regarded as prophetic mes- sengers. He questioned about other islands of gold. They pointed to the north. " The land abounds with gold } " " The rivers are gold." " What else is there } " " Everything that the sun can give." They added : " The people there live forever." ♦'How.?" " They drink of a river, and the water is life." Here indeed was the land of all his dreams. He was yet rich, and he would fit out a new expedition, and would set his white sails towards the north. It is said that the Cavalier, although not old, had begun to lose his early beauty. It is also said that he had met a lovely Italian girl, for whose sake he wished that he might become young again. He further questioned the prophetic Indians. They told him that there was an island, named Bimini, lying far out in the sea, which also had a wonderful fountain, and that those who drank of this foun- tain became young again, and remained so forever. This was all that he could desire. The withering stalk of life would bloom again. His spring of years Vould be brought back. THE EVER FAITHFUL ISLE. 53 He could love again, wed again, and never find his mind clouded again with any fear of disease or death. And so the happy mariner sailed away, but returned to Porto Rico with more wrinkles and gray hair than before. He had seen Florida, and searched in vain for the fountain. But the dream still haunted him. He repaired to Spain, and was made Governor of Florida, Bimini, and the realms of his imagination when he should find them. He found them, — beautiful Florida again in this world, and a poisoned arrow there which ended his search, after a brief fever, and gave him immortality in a better world than this. Nor will his name die here. The world will never forsfet that beautiful Palm Sunday when he landed in Florida, and praised God under the blooming trees, near the present poetic town of St. Augustine. America has only one city that is a poem, and that is an eternal monument to the poetic soul of the old Cavalier. There is a legend that associates Silver Springs, Florida, with the search of Ponce de Leon. A more thrillinor leo^end connects the Waukulla Spring, near the old Magnolia River, with the experiments of the fanciful explorers. The popular legend of the trial of the rejuvenating waters is so poetic and tragic that I have endeavored to express it in verse. THE LEGEND OF WAUKULLA. Through darkening pines the cavaliers marched on their sunset way, While crimson in tiie trade-winds rolled far Appalachce Bay, Above the water-levels rose palmetto crowns like ghosts Of kings primeval; them behind, the shadowy pines in hosts. •• O cacique, brave and trusty guide, Are we not near the spring. The fountain of eternal youth, that health to age doth bring ?' The cacique sighed. And Indian guide, " The fount is fair, Waukulld ! On the old Magnolia River." 54 ZIGZAG JOURXEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. " But vainly to the blossomed flower will come the autumn rain, And never youth's departed days come back to age again ; The future in the spirit lies, and earthly life is brief, 'Tisj " A grand conception ; but — " " A suggestion? " " I 'm afraid husband, you know, don't know, you know, or might not know, Chronos from Eros. His mind is peculiar; it can only reach so high, or go so far, — does not rise above the old English poets in poetry, or above the 'Messiah' or ' Stabat Mater' or 'Trovatore' in music. Some minds cannot. They can master simple arithmetic, but are lost in the Rule of Three." It was arranged that the younger Miss Pink should play the " Wedding March " from " Lohengrin " as soon as Mr. Parrish should light the chandelier on the anniversary night, and at the first touch of the music the whole company should exclaim, " A merry silver wedding ! " three times. Congratulations were to follow, during which Miss Pink was to play the " Swedish Wedding March," and the musical programme was to end with Mendelssohn's " Wedding March." After the congratulations Mr. Elvi Sylver was to present Mr. Parrish with a silver coin from Mrs. Parrish (paid for out of the aforesaid Mr. Parrish's own accounts). Then Miss Pink the elder was to read the address to Chronos and Eros, and recall the vicissitudes of twenty-five married years. " I can hardly sleep for thinking of it," said Mrs. Parrish to the Misses Pink. " I never dreamed in my simple girlhood that I would ever become a rich man's wife and a society woman, and a source of inspiration to young and gifted minds. I stand amazed when I recall what twenty-five years have wrought." Mrs. Parrish had influenced local politics, and she felt that the aristocratic suburb owed much to her influence in public aff"airs, as well as in the develop- ment of the fine arts. When it was proposed by the Van Burens to fhake " Lissory," as the suburb where these important people lived was called, a very select community, from which the "common people" should be excluded by selling no land at less than five thousand dollars per lot, she had favored the scheme, even against the views and principles of her very democratic husband. Mr. Parrish was very liberal in his political views, and had once shocked the Common Council by saying that he did not believe that William the Conqueror had had any more royal blood in him than a hod-carrier, or that any other 96 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. king had ever had, and that it was only personal worth that made any crown really royal. The Hudsons, Baxters, and Pinks — families who had grown rich by impoverishing other people by sharp speculations — had joined the Van Burens in creating a suburb that was to exclude the common people for the sake of living " in accordance with the higher social standards." Mr. Parrish was an honest man, and had become prosperous by the profits of an honest business. He had yielded much to his wife's influence in the selection of a home, but he had never thoroughly liked his pretentious neighbors, and he especially disliked the Van Burens, the Hudsons, the Dexters, and the Pinks, — • people whom Mrs. Parrish was particularly desirous that he should regard as his confidential friends. The short dark days of December moved on in a hurrying procession toward the gladness of the holidays. The last robins sought the covers of the frosty woods, and the snow-birds came to the door-yard trees with their single note. The evening lamps were early lighted under a steel gray sky. The gentians died, the red berries lined the wayside walls, children gathered creeping-jenny, and the markets began to grow green with the usual decorations for the church and fireside. " I shall decorate my parlors this year with silver," said Mrs. Parrish to her housekeeper. " I have a particular reason for it. I am going to buy new curtains with silver thread, the lamp-shades must be of silver paper, the silver ornaments must take the place of the marble ones, and the silver vases must be got ready for white roses. When the lamps are lighted, the rooms must glimmer, — do you see ? " The well-trained housekeeper sazv. She was used to these things. She had prepared the house for a pink tea, a crazy reception, and the famous orange-party; and her fancy's eye saw just the effect that her mistress wished to produce. So the rooms were prepared to glimmer like silver waves when the lamps should be lighted on the evenings of the holidays. The good housekeeper added some novel effects of her own invention. She " set" the evergreen decorations in a solution of alum and water, and thus tipped them with silvery crystals. When the good woman's work of decoration was complete, and the rooms were lighted as an experiment, they looked, as Mrs. Parrish enthusiastically expressed it, like " the palace halls of the moon." " I always had a genius for such things," she said. " Some people do. It is not every one that writes poetry with the pen ; many do it by creating expressions. Those rooms arc a poem. They express sentiment. Everything beautiful that expresses sentiment is a poem. Cleopatra's barge was a poem, Marie Antoinette's Trianon, and all the masks of Madame de Pompadour ; and /am a poet." LITERARY AND HUMOROUS ENTERTAINMEXTS. 97 Silver cake was made in abundance, and a set of silver goblets was hired. Miss Pink added to her poem some stanzas on the " silver tide of life." Then a new idea took possession of Mrs. Parrish's poetic mind. The good lady had done one really unique and useful thing in her social career besides the famous orange-party. It took the form of " Readings with Musical Accompaniments." The village organist was famous for improvising in musical moods, and he had been at Mrs. Parrish's service in these very charming entertainments. Mrs. Parrish had once heard Bellew's musical read- ings, and she came away from the gifted young Englishman's performances with a discovery which she thought would make even a series of parlor readings interesting to young people. So she and the organist arranged " Twelfth Night " for an experiment, assigning the parts to certain young students of the Music School, and helping them to appear in costume. The organist was a genius, and well instructed in the old English music and their recent collections ; and " Twelfth Night " proving a great success, it was followed by reading all of the plays of Shakspeare which offer a field for music. She would have Miss Pink's poem read to music, — silvejy ^\\xs\c. True, she had not been able to quite comprehend the introductory lines, which made the " things are not " appear the " things that are ; " yet they vaguely recalled to her the fact that memory is the " resurrection of the lost years," as she ex- pressed her understanding of the very obscure passage to Miss Pink herself. The snow fell one long dark night. The sleigh-bells jingled in the morning. The trees were a harvest of icicles. People hurried in the street. The stores were lighted by four o'clock. The stars had a cold look. The sleigh-bills jingled everywhere, and Christmas came. Mrs. Parrish's invitations had multiplied. All was ready, even to the dark lamp-lighter and the muffler for the door-bell. The Christmas dinner was unusually quiet, which fact did not seem to have any depressing effect on the usually philosophical Mr. Parrish. After a good dinrfer the quiet gentleman went to his own room " upstairs," as he was always glad to do. He was secretly thankful that there were no guests in the house, and that he could get a few hours in his dressing-gown, with his magazines and reviews, by the open fire. " Now I am going to read and take a nap. I 'm tired." This was said to Mrs. Parrish on leaving the table, and was intended as a gentle reminder that he did not wish to be disturbed. Two or more blissful hours passed. Then just as he was deep in an article on "The Future of English-speaking Nations," there came a nervous tap on the door. gS Z/GZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. Silence. Another tap, a little louder. Mr. Parrish said reluctantly, " Come in." He did not leave his easy-chair. Why should he? He had invited no one to his room ; and as to Mrs. Parrish, he had politely told her that he wished to be alone. Mrs. Parrish opened the door, and came in, still and stately, in velvet and silver lace. " I am sorry to disturb you," she said ; *' but do you remember, hu.sband, what night this is ? " " Yes, Christmas night." " But another? " " Two nights in one? " " Yes." She opened an enormous silver fan, and began moving it to and fro. " Husband, do you remember what happened twenty-five years ago to- night? " '•No. What?" " Our wedding-party. To-night should be our silver wedding." " Ah, yes, if you reckon in that way. Don't seem as though we had been married twenty-five years." " Yes, twenty-five long years." " Well, Arline, you have been a good wife, a pretty good wife, or used to be before your head became unsettled by society. I ought to have made you a present of a silver something." Mrs. Parrish waved her silver fan uneasily. Mr. Parrish was not talking in a susceptible way. " Husband, do you remember our early life in the little red house among the New Hampshire hills?" " Yes." " And the sheep? " " We have a different kind of sheep around us now." " And the cool spring that ran from the mountain-side, to which you used to go for water? " " Yes." "And the old dairy-house?'*' " Yes." Mr. Parrish dropped the review, and ran his hands through his hair. '' Yes, Arline; yes, Arline. And one cannot find the lost years of youth even among the springs of P^lorida." Mr. Parrish began to hum the tune of the "Old Oaken Bucket." " I used to sing that song when we were young," continued Mrs. Parrish. LITERARY AND HUMOROUS ENTERTAINMENTS. 99 "Would you not like to go down into the parlor and hear me play it and sing it again? " " Yes, I would, Arline. It would seem like the old days, whose true happi- ness I shall never know again, — a fine house is not happiness." The hills of New Hampshire seemed to rise before him and haunt him ; the old red house, the school-house, and the mountain springs. " Arline, I am glad that for once we are alone. I am so weary of all this false life, in which selfish people are seeking pleasure, pleasure, and not the happiness of others. Happiness never comes to those who seek it, Arline. You said that your Florida orange-party made you happy because it made others happy. Your show parties do not make you happy. I wish you would leave off" being a waiter at Vanity Fair. I want you to sing to-night all of your old songs, — Tom Moore's ' The Light-House,' ' Twilight Dews,' * Thou sweet gliding Kedron,' and ' Home, sweet Home.' Oh, I am so glad that I am at home, and I am glad that every one else is ! I never want to see any more of society, unless it be to help somebody or to subserve some good purpose. Why, I 'd rather hear old Parson Bellamy preach Calvinism ; that did at least set one to thinking vigorously, if it were only to think one's self out of it." Mrs. Parrisli waved her fan. She went to the door, opened it. Silence. She was sure that all was ready. The organist was there; Miss Pink, she fancied, was at the piano ; the elder Miss Pink was waiting with her long poem ; and the whole company were standing in full dress in the darkened parlors, ready to shout, " A happy silver wedding ! " She felt sure that that was the condition of aft*airs below stairs, and she was right. " Husband," said the lady in velvet and silver lace, " I have been unselfish this Christmas. I have given my whole thought and time to a plan to make happy a single poor unhappy man who lives beneath his privileges. When you come to know how charitable I have been, you will better appreciate your wife of twenty-five years." Mrs. Parrish swung her fan. " But why, Arline, did you put on that party dress, all in spangles like a circus-rider's; and what possible use can you have for that fan? Why, it is large enough to raise a blizzard." " You will understand me better some day," returned Mrs. Parrish, with an air of mystery. " We must not quarrel to-night, dear, of all the nights of our lives. Now will you go down with me? " Mr. Parrish rose slowly; Mrs. Parrish brushed his hair, and rearranged his wrapper. Then she took the lamp-lighter from the shelf where she had placed it, lighted it from her husband's match-box, covered the fiame with the metal cap, fixed the non-conducting chain that was wound around the long igniting- tube, and opened the door. lOO ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. The way down was easy. The hall lamp burned dim, the halls were silent, and Mrs. Parrish made a mysterious-looking figure, like a stage Lady Macbeth, with her dark lamp, velvet trail, jewels, and silver bangles. It was a part of Mrs. Parrish's plan to make Mr. Parrish say something, un- witting, pleasant about the guests in the opaque room, before the chandeliers were lio-hted. But in view of Mr. Parrish's expressions of gratitude at being for once able to be alone, this plan looked to her hazardous, even perilous. But she was a very politic woman, and equal to any trifling emergency ; and her bright mind was studying during her descent how to form her words, on open- in"- the parlor door, so as to elicit only the most flattering answers. The foot of the stairs was reached. Dead silence. Mrs. Parrish now timidly opened the parlor door. Darkness. The capped lamp-lighter did not add a ray except perpendicularly downward. There was an odor of roses and pine, a balmy air, like Tampa Bay or the Indian River. The two stood in the doorway. " I almost wish, husband, that we had invited a few of our old friends to- night. I know that you would have been glad to have met the Van Burens — " "Ahem!" This was encouraging. " And the Hudsons — " " Ahem ! ahem ! " Admirable. "And the Dexters?" " I tell you, Arlinc — " *' Yes, yes; I knew you would, and we might have had an anniversary poem from some delightful poetess, like Marian, you know ; and some better music than I can give you, — something brilliant on the piano, from a professional player, or an inspirational one, like Willemine." " How the cold shivers do run down my back ! " " I fear you have taken cold, dear." " Well, well ; don't let 's stand talking here in the dark ; light the chan- delier." •' Here is the lamp-lighter, dear." ^. " Did n't you bring down any matches?" " No; here is the lamp-lighter; take it." Mr. Parrish had never used the patent contrivance. He did not know that the metal cap was to be lifted from the bit of light at the top of the slender tube by the little chain; he thought it was to be pulled ofiflike a red-cap raspberry. LITERARY AND HUMOROUS ENTERTAINMENTS. lOI Now the metal cap, although it covered but a bit of spirit flame, was in a condition to awaken very lively and decisive thoughts if touched. Mr. Parrish took hold of this bright and fiery particle with his usual delib- eration, pressing It between his thumb and finger. The result was electrical. There were strange, quick motions in the darkness. " Oh-o-o — all ye gods ! Wliat have I done? Now I have burnt my fingers, both of them too, with that pesky, rattle-trap contrivance. Oh-o ! Oh, my — " Here the lamp-Hghter dropped suddenly and sightless to the floor. "Oh, never, never mind, husband; never mind. I'll go and get some matches. There, there, never mind." " Never mind ! get into a hornets' nest, and ' never mind ; ' put your foot on a blistering stove, and ' never mind.' I wish you had my fingers for just one minute. Call the servants, — bring a dish of cold water. Quick ! I shall have a fit!" " Yes, yes. Don't get so excited ; you are usually cool. A little burn is n't anything. You should have removed the cap with the chain. There, there; you be perfectly still and quiet, and I will go and get some matches and some water." " Well, do ; for mercy sake, hurry. I sha'n't get over this all night. What are you waiting there for? Hurry! " Mrs. Parrish reluctantly disappeared. But Mr. Parrish could not obey his wife's wise counsel and " be still ; " he had to talk to help relieve the pain. And he did. " I thought I was going to have one day of quiet, — I did, — and not to be bothered by calls from people who have nothing to do, — I did. A pretty plan that would have been to have invited that old stock-gambler Van Buren, and that real-estate fraud Hudson, and those shoddy Dexters, and had a great long string of senseless poetry by that empty-headed Marian Pink, and one of those awful piano solos by — ■" " There, there," said Mrs. Parrish, hastily returning. " Do be calm, love. Here 's a match." But Mr. Parrish was skeptical about his wife's lamp-lighters in the dark. " Light it yourself." " Now, husband dear, be prepared for a surprise." " A surprise ! I guess if you had undertaken to light the room with a coal of fire, there would n't have been much left to surprise you in this world — nor any other." Mrs. Parrish touched the lighted match to the chandelier. The room was transformed, transfigured. \\. g/iintncrcd. But the piano was not played. The I02 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. company that stood like statues did not shout " A merry silver wedding ! " so> much as once. Miss Marian Pink did not unroll her poem. " I knew that you would be surprised," said Mrs. Parrish. " I am," said Mr. Parrish. " I think that we all are," said Mr. Van Buren. " I am," said Mr. Hudson. " And I," said Mr. Dexter. "And I am not I' said Miss Marian, the poetess, "I always knew that the man was just such an awful fool." The poem in her hand certainly contradicted the plain prose statement. Did it not say, — " He stands a tower among earth's grandest peers, The Solon wise of five-and-twenty years " ? There was a silence, a motionless silence, broken only by the unfortunate Mr. Parrish as he rubbed his fingers on his dressing-gown. The room glim- mered with silvery lustres, and was full of subtle perfumes. Then followed a light buzzing that grew into audible whispers : " He did say it ; " " He meant jj/^;/ ; " " He meant me ; " " He did not know what he said ! " "Yes, he did; — he knew;" "He was not accountable; " "A party like this invites such things." The reserve, amid all the preparation, brightness, and splendor, was quite unaccountable to poor Mrs. Parrish. She tried to have the programme carried forward, but was told that the " late unfortunate circumstance " had made it impossible. No one spoke to Mr. Parrish, who continued rubbing his fingers, except the sympathetic organist. " Are you not very much surprised?" " Very," rubbing his fingers vigorously. Jingle, jingle, jingle ! The sleighs came early for the guests. The drivers that night did not have to wait long out in the cold. The guests departed early. Their tongues were unloosed when once in the frosty air. Practical Mr. Parrish never dared to tell his wife the whole truth, but he was allowed to pass the next Christmas holiday in the quiet of his own room. But he never felt quite at ease at the recollection of the event, for another cause than his own loss to local polite society. His wife's intentions had really been very kind, as they often were, despite a little vanity, and he had some misgivings that he had not quite regarded these as a model husband should. However this might be, he never was heard to speak of his silver wedding. LITERARY AND HUMOROUS ENTERTAINMENTS. 103 To the readings, music, and stones of the Hterary exercises of the class, Mr. Diaz sometimes added an original poem ; and with one of these we close this chapter, which gives a view of the working of a class study at home : — THE FLAG THAT THE EMIGRANTS CHEERED. Gibraltar rose dark, and the sun's disk burned low, Like a far gate of heaven with banners aglow; And red o'er the Pillars of Hercules blazed The Star of the Pilots of old, as we gazed. And swift the breeze freshened, and deep boomed the cun, And the ships of the nations swept by, one by one, — The Red Cross of England, the Tricolor proud. And the dark German Eagles in billows of cloud. Then the Flag of the Stars from the Western waves came, And passed in review by the old flags of fame. "Why are the ships shouting ? " Our feet forward pressed. — " 'T is the emigrants cheering." — " Which flag ? " — " Of the West." The Cross of Saint George Floated free o'er the main, The black German Eagles, The Lions of Spain, And the flags of all seas In the bright Straits appeared ; But, oh, 't was my own flag The emigrants cheered ! The emigrant mothers their gladdened eyes raised. And memories wove of the past as they gazed ; And their thin hands they waved 'neath tiie lone Afric Star, And greeted the flag of the new lands afar. Then the emigrant children laughed out with the rest. As their eyes caught the light of the Flag of the West. Laugh on, little ones, in your star-lighted way. To the Lakes of the States and the Georgian Bay ! Round the flag of your birthright the sea-birds are veering; 'T is for you, not themselves, the old mothers are cheering. The Red Cross of Saint (icorge Waves free o'er the main. The Gallic Tricolor, The Lions of Spain, 104 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. And the flags of all seas In the bright Straits appear; But oh ! 't is my own flag The children's hands cheer ! Young Romans were there, of the Eagles of old; Strong Charlemagne's sons, of the helmets of gold, The heirs of the heroes of world-making wars, Passed outward that hour in the night march of stars. All thought of the friends to their bosoms most true. Of the hearts of the Old World that beat in the New. Of the world-weary struggles of peoples oppressed, Of the Kingdom of God in the Suns of the West. The Cross of Saint George Passed them by on the main. The dark German Eagles, The Lions of Spain. Off Trafalgar's waters The last flag appeared ; But mine was the last flag That the emigrants cheered. That scene at Gibraltar in mind lingers yet ; That eve Andalusian what heart could forget ? And where'er I may roam through the nightfall of years, My heart will re-echo the emigrant's cheers. Can the soldier forget the last roll of the drum. Or the wanderer the song cf his mother at home, Or the patriot his vision of duty sublime. As seen on the towers of the summit of Time ? I still see the Eagles That swept o'er the main. The leonine banners Of England and Spain, The African starlight. The gray fortress-crest. And the emigrants cheering Their flag of the West. No voice of the bugle, no war-rolling drum. Disturbs the sweet peace of my roof-tree of home. But the Anthem of Liberty gladdens the main. And the chorus of hills wakes the patriot's strain. O flag of my own land, Hope's bow in the air. O'er my home let me lift thee, my altar of prayer ! LITERARY AND HUMOROUS ENTERTAINMENTS. 105 Many flags have the people that grand deeds recall, But my own flag of faith is the pride of them all. The Red Cross of England Waves free o'er the main, The dark German Eagles, The Lions of Spain ; But ever while stars For all men shall appear, Our flag of all peoples The pilgrims will cheer. CHAPTER VIII. THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. — " COMO SE LLAMA ESO?" f^^^^^ ) rn ^^&3 )& S Wfj] ^ w p m RTHUR had a curious plan in mind. In his view " Cdmo se llama eso " was a key that would unlock all doors in Spanish-speaking countries, and next to it in value, " Traigame " (Bring me) would prove a willing servant. He would begin asking questions of Cuban boys and girls as soon as he should meet Spanish-speaking people; and he would commit to mem- ory the answers that he received, and the pronunciation of them, and he hoped one day to surprise the class by the way in which he would talk the language. If he had an apple, for example, he would ask a Cuban boy, "Cdmo se llama eso?" He would be answered "Una manzana," ^ and he would be careful to watch the lips of the speaker and repeat the word after him, and remember it as spoken. So with words like "una pera " (a pear), "una nuez " (a nut), "una rosa" (a rose), " una violeta" (a violet), " el melon " (a Melon). " I have a tongue," he said, " and a boy can ask questions ; and I will get Cuba to teach me, and it will be done correctly." The thought occurred to him that to receive polite and willing answers he must learn some polite and pleasing phrases. So " Le doy a ustcd muchas gracias"(I give you much or many thanks), " Con mucho gusto" (With much pleasure), "Con mil amores " (With a thousand loves), "A mas ver" (Till I see you more — good-by), ^ Mahn-tliah'nah. THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. 109 " Cdmo esta usted " (How are you ?), " Muy bien, gracias " (Very well, thanks), and " Perdone usted " (Pardon me), were added to his Growing vocabulary. He still continued to study the Spanish gram- mar and phrase-book by himself. The class under the lead of their generous friends began their journey by going to Washington. Here Arthur found especial de- THE WHITE HOUSE, REAR ENTRANCE. light in the models of the dwellings of the Cliff-dwellers in the Smith- sonian Institution. After visiting the monument, good Mrs. Green took the class to see the little cottage of Marcia Burns, in the half-ruined grounds of the old Van Ness mansion, near the monument and the White House. Marcia Burns was the daughter of David Burns, a rugged old Scotch- man, who was compelled by the Government to sell a part of his great plantation for the site of the Capitol. He disliked to part with his land, and once said to Washington, who was commissioned to buy it, " Who would you have been, had you not married the Widow Custis.-*" The cottage is small and old, but picturesque. Here Thomas no ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. Moore, the poet, was entertained in Jefferson's days. It was about this time that Moore visited Virginia, and wrote the once famous ballad, " The Lake of the Dismal Swamp." Marcia Burns married, but died young, leaving much of her great fortune to the Washington Orphan Asylum, where her beauti- ful portrait may still be seen. The old Van Ness mansion is a poetic ruin. Here all the Presidents and statesmen of a generation used to be entertained, and here six head- less white horses are said to haunt the place on the return of old anni- versary evenings. The Government stopped on the day Marcia Burns (Van Ness) was buried. She sleeps in the Temple of Vesta, not far from the resting-place of the author of " Home, Sweet Home." There were two scenes in Wash- ington that impressed themselves upon the class, more than the mon- ument or the grand government offices. They were the Columbian Doors of the Capitol, and the inde- scribably beautiful effect of moon- light on the Capitol building. We give a description of the Columbian Doors, from the pen of a Washington lady who has made them a study : — iho-rur. f^i^' ' i-oo- i*^ '-^^^ THE COLUMBIAX DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. I 1 THE ROGERS' BRONZE DOORS, i In the city of Rome, in the year 1858, an American sculptor, by name Randolph Rogers, designed and modelled the famous bronze doors placed in the main central entrance to the Capitol, which is a strong point of interest to all intelligent sight-seers in Washington. Few finer or more enduring examples of the sculptor's art are to be found in any country, delineating, as it does, the life of the great discoverer to whom ue, as a people, owe so much. \TIOX.\I- LIBRAKV. ^ By permission " Youtii's Companion.'' 8 114 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. The doors are seventeen feet high, nine feet wide, and weigh twenty thousand pounds. They were designed when the sculptor was about thirty- three years of age, and after the execution of some of his most famous works. For these models he was paid eight thousand dollars, and the casting of the metal in 1861 by F. Von Miiller, at Munich, cost seventeen thousand dollars. The door in its entirety, as represented in the illus- tration, pleases the eye at once by the harmony of its dimensions and the beauty and skill with which the panels are worked out. Of a rich golden brown, it stands, sombre and unique, a silent historian of the most striking events in the life of one of the greatest explorers the world has ever known. The casing, which is also of bronze, projects forward from the leaves of the door, and is filled with designs emblematic of con- quest and navigation. The statues at each corner rep- resent the four quarters of the world, — Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. Including the semicircu- lar picture at the top, tliere are nine panels in all, rep- resenting in alto relievo the most striking events in the career of the great naviga- tor, — his aspirations, perils, successes, and disappointments, all carefully and lovingly delineated by the hand of genius. Beginning on the lower left-hand side of the doors, they interest the spectator at once by their life-like accuracy and power of expression. The iHh C OlAiiMlilA.N DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. 115 first one is entitled, " Columbus Undergoing an Exann'nation before the Council of Salamanca." This panel represents Columbus showing his plans and charts, which confidence was meanly taken advantage of by his judges. COLUMBUS PUT IN IRONS. The figure in the left niche is Perez, a contemporary of the discoverer. Henry VIJ. of England stands on the right. The projecting heads in each panel are those of historians of the time of Columbus, with the exception of two. Those at the foot of the lower panels are presumably native Indians of America. "The Departure of Columbus from the Convent of La Rabida" is the subject of the next picture above. Wearied with fruitless exertions, and disgusted with the duplicity oi Il6 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. crowned heads, Columbus is said to have left Lisbon in 1484. In the mean time, his wife had died, leaving one son, Diego. Spain was now the goal of his hopes. He was seemingly friendless, and as he beo-o-ed on his way, it is to be supposed that he had no money. He had then reached Andalusia, dispirited, though not defeated, and there, at the gates of an old convent in the town of Palos, he stopped to beg bread and water for his little son. Antonio de Marchena was the superior of the convent. The grandeur of the man who had tarried by the wayside made itself apparent during a conver- sation held with him ; and the ecclesiastic entered at once into correspondence with royalty, and used all his influence with the King and Queen in his behalf. In this panel, Columbus appears to be leaving the old convent in good spirits, buoyed up with the hope of ultimate success. The statue on the left is that of Cortez, conqueror of Mexico ; on th.e right, lady Beatrice Dc Bobadilla, in her court robes. The projecting head at the top is that of our own Washington Irving. Bancroft is also represented, elsewhere. At last, seven years after his appeal to the good friars of La Rabida Convent, Columbus obtained an audience with Queen Isabella, which is pictured on the next panel. In the niche on the left of this bronze picture is the navigator Alonzo De Ojeda. On the right stands Queen Isabella, with the sceptre of royalty in her hand. The Queen, who is said to have been very lovely, with fair hair and clear blue eyes, received him graciously, listened, was convinced by his eloquence, and standing up implored the blessing of Heaven upon him. The " Starting of Colunibus from Palos, on his first voyage," is the next scene. Taking leave of his son, whom the good brotherhood of La Rabida pledged themselves to care for and educate, Columbus is about to embark on his first great voyage. Vespucci stands at the left of this picture. He claimed to have been one of the discoverers of America ; but history disputes the assertion. At the right is Gonzales De Mcndoza, Archbishop of Toledo, at whose table Columbus solved the problem of standing an ^^^ on one end, by crushing the shell. Then comes the " First Landing of the Spanish at San Salvador." This is the transom panel, and occupies the semicircular sweep over the whole door. After innumerable perils, and misgivings even in his own mind, Columbus finally sighted land, which proved to be one of the l^ahama Islands, on which THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAJTTOL. I I9 he joyfully landed, and in pursuance of his own intentions and the promise of his sovereign King and Queen, he planted the cross and proclaimed his new conquest, San Salvador. Over the picture in this panel the grand, calm face of Columbus looks out, yet even in its casing of bronze wears an expression of profound sadness. Beneath is the eagle with outspread wings, and still lower on either side are two female heads. We come now to the " First Encounter of the Discoverers with the Indians." At first the natives hid themselves, looking with distrust (as well they might) at these powerful white men, and the sacred symbol they planted with all the imposing ceremony of worship. Columbus himself appeared in a suit of scarlet and gold, and his followers had arrayed themselves with like splendor. The sailors at once set out on an exploring expedition. The frightened natives ran before them ; but by dint of brute force, and not unlikely by recourse to firearms, they succeeded in capturing a young Indian girl, and brought her in triumph to the men in command, expecting to receive their thanks for this cowardly deed. Instead of that, Columbus sternly rebuked the men, and ordered that the captive be set at liberty at once, which was accordingly done. This is one of the most forcible pictures, and tells the story at once. The cross shines on the heights in the distance, and the grouping is excellent. The statue in the niche at the left of this panel is that of Francisco Pizarro, conqueror of Ptru. Alexander VI. occupies the niche at the right. The next panel shows the " Triumphant Entry into Barcelona," and is considered the finest in the portrayal of the story. The whole scene wears a triumphant aspect. Columbus, richly dressed, is mounted on a spirited steed. Everything that can inspire a man lends interest to the procession. He is a conqueror who has not bought his glory by war and carnage. Following him come the dusky natives who have been willing to enter his train, brilliant with plumes and jewels and gold from that far new country. Preceding him go the courtiers and priests, with banners, music, and incense. His crews march in the rear, laden with palm-branches, all kinds of lovely birds, and tropical wonders. Against the blue sky floats the white banner of the Admiral, bearing the words, " I"or Castile and for Leon, Columbus has discovered a New World." 120 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. On the left and right of this panel are Vasco Nunez de Balboa and King Ferdinand. In striking contrast to this brilliant pageant comes the ignominious por- trayal of chains and captivity, " Columbus in Chains," His enemies had turned the King against him, and Columbus was super- seded as Governor by an officer in the royal service, named Bobadilla, who MOUNT VERNON. had the audacity to send the great discoverer home in chains. His guards, men of power and standing, would have removed his fetters. " No," said Columbus, proudly, " their Majesties commanded me by letter to submit to whatever Bobadilla should order in their name. I will wear these fetters until they order them to be taken off, and I will preserve them after- ward as relics and memorials of the reward of my services." He kept his word, and the chains were buried with him. THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. 121 The last panel, " The Death of Columbus," has for its left and right support the brother of Columbus, and Charles VIII , of France. Pinzon, a rich merchant and mariner, who aided Columbus with service and money, stands on the right. On the left is John II. of Portugal. It is an affecting picture, and calculated to teach an enduring lesson of the world's ingratitude. The old priest holds up the cross, and implores him to turn his dying eyes upon it. A friend or two weep at,his bedside. ALONG THE WHARVES, GEORGETOWN. Some good woman — of kin to him, it may be — holds upon her bosom tiie head that has thought so wisely. Almost a martyr at the time of his death, now he is held by a grateful people in equal respect with our own Washington. The one discovered a continent on which were planted the germs of a mighty nation. The other was the father and saviour of that nation, which owes its existence to the life, faith, and suffering of Christopher Columbus. 122 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. A VERY STRANGE STORY.. Arthur hurried from place to place in Washington, as visitors wiUi limited time usually do. He went to Mt. Vernon, and drank milk in Washing- ton's old kitchen, — a long remembered refreshment amid such stately associ- ations. He was shown the place where General Washington threw a shilling or WASHINGTON S TOMB. a dollar or a pebble or something across the Potomac (the thing thrown varies with the story-teller). He of course visited the old and new tomb of Washington amid the singing trees. He stopped at majestic Arlington, with THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. 12 its army of graves, whose silent procession of white marbles halts forever under the green trees, and heard there the sunset gun of Washington, and saw the flags of the city drop in the crimson twilight. He visited one grave — is there another like it in all the world? — where two thousand soldiers sleep. soldiers' cicmetkry at arlin(;ton. The mocking birds sung in the magnolias, and the flowers burned in the sun's varied rays, as though there were no such thing as sorrow on the earth. But how strange it is that amid grand scenes is the place of the wonder- story that holds the mind ! Arthur had heard the outline of the strange Washington legend of the Van Ness place, when he visited the ruin on the green Potomac marshes. 124 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. "That old Van Ness place has a curious history," he said to the party on the Potomac boat. " I must go and see it again." " Yes," said Mrs. Green ; " there may be no truth in the ghost legend, but to me it seemed haunted by the spirit of something that never happened." KuKO S THKATKE, WHIiRE PKESIDKNT LINCOLN WAS ASSASSINATED. "What was that? " " It was intended at one time, near the end of the war, to abduct President Lincoln, hide him in the Van Ness cellar, and convey him across the Potomac, and then demand a ransom for his life. It never happened ; but the impressior» '-)f it is there." THE COLCMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPTTOL. 125 The next morning Arthur repaired to the Van Ness place again. He met an old negro, with white hair, shuffling about the grounds. " An' what brings you here so early, my little man? " asked the negro. " Did you ever see the six white horses? " asked Arthur, coming directly to the matter that haunted his imagination. " Sho, now you hab got me shure." The negro sank all in a heap on one of the picnic seats. " Did I ebber see dj six white horses? No, — but I 'se seen deni dat did. Dem horses comb across riber on Christmas nights, — -just as de clock strikes twelve, and smoke comes out of their necks, and the smoke has the faces ob the big men gone ; this place used to be great on Christ- mas days." " Where do the horses come from? " " Dey belonged to old Mayor Van Ness. He thought a deal ob 'em, as I '\ c hern tell ; and when dey returned from his funeral, dey all of dem drap right down dead. An' dey come an' listen for him at the doo' ebry Christmas- night just at de midnight cock-crowin'. There ! " I wish I could meet some one who had seen the horses," said Arthur. " Well, boy, I tell you what you do. You come here this ebenin' after the picnic, an' ole Aunt Maria will be here: she 's seen de horses." Arthur visited the site of old Ford's Theatre, where President Lincoln was shot, and the house in which the great commoner died. He went to the State Department to see the original Declaration of Independence, the first draft of the Constitution of the United States, and the National Seal. Towards nightfall he wandered down the green avenue that passes the White House, and came again to the picnic ground in the Van Ness yard. Here he met Aunt Maria. HOUSE WHERE THE PRESmENT DIED. 126 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. " Seen 'em, yes, honey ; I has now, shure as your bawrn. Old Si, he tell ye about 'em dis marnin. Well, old Si, he hain't no sense of de ting at all. Dem horses did n't fell down ded after comin' home from de funeral. Dey all went out into de medders yere, an' dey all died ob broken hearts, and de riber rose and covered 'em. " Well, honey, when de day come round on which old Mayor Van Ness died, just at midnight, what should appear but dem six white horses.? Dey NEGRO QUARTERS. entered de yard as still as def Dem horses make no noise wid der hoofs. Dey 'pears to walk on de air. An' dey go round and round de great house, an' den dey all stop and listen, an' smoke goes out ob der necks, 'cause dey has n't any heads. " Well, honey, one night long after de mayor died, I was at dis here house, a-workin'. I went to bed late, and jus' as I had tooken off my black gown, Icavin' me all underclothcd in white, I looked out ober de Potomac, and what did I see but dem identical horses? I jus' felt do hair crawlin' all ober my head, and shouted ' Ki ! hi ! ' and I leaped down dem stairs all jus' as I was in white. An' I leaped ober de box-hedges, and run out into de street, and who should I see but de colored people comin' late from the revibal mcetin'? I shouted ' Hants, hants ! ' wid a powerful voice ; and dey took me for one ob de gorts. An' dey all run like de deer, and Parson Gob he hid in de brambles, an' nebber come out until marnin'. Dey bclicbs dat dey saw de Van Ness gost to dis day." "Wasn't it the mist that vou saw, Aunt Maria?" THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. 127 " You go way ! You came from up Nof, an' hab an unbelievin' soul. Stans to reason dem horses want no mist, — though de mist do rise very curiously on der marshes sometimes, especially when de moon am shinin'. Mist? Wot put dat into your head, boy. You tinks I knows, don't ycr?" Aunt Maria gav^e her turban several indignant nods, and said, " Mist? mist? " The red sunset shone through the trees as Arthur left the old rose gardens. The Monument towered aloft nearly six hundred feet high, half in sunset light and half in shadow. It is the world's greatest cenotaph and the highest perma- nent structure in the world. It is thirty-five feet higher than the great cathedral of Cologne. It cost nearly a million of dollars. From the Columbian Doors of the Capitol the class went to Chicago, to see the more wonderful monuments to the faith of the Great Genoese. In Washington Arthur began his collection for his Home Museum. In a store where " war relics " were sold, he purchased many curiosities from the battle-fields. He gathered leaves and flowers, which he pressed, from the grounds of the old Van Ness Mansion, and acorns at Mt. Vernon and Arlington. He made a collection of Magnolia leaves from the grounds of the tomb of Washington at Mt. Vernon, and from the soldiers' cemetery at Arlington. These he kept until they were dry, and then wrote patriotic sentiments on them : like, " On fame's eternal camping- ground," " A people is known by the men they crown," " He is worthiest noble who ennobles himself." He also gathered leaves and wild-flowers from the cemetery in which rests the author of " Home, Sweet Home," and on the pressed leaves wrote, " Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again ! " Mrs. Green continued her story-telling amid these inspiring scenes. The class will long recall the incident that she related out of her stores of incidents of history, as she turned away from the Columbian doors, and sat down on the great stone-seats in the wild wall of the park of the Capitol. 128 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE M/SS/SSVPJV. THE SEA OF THE DISCOVERY. The Bahama Sea is perhaps the most beautiful of all waters. Columbus beheld it and its islands with a poet's eye. " It only needed the singing of the nightingale," said the old mariner, " to make it like Andalusia in April ; " and to his mind Andalusia was the loveliest place on earth. In sailing among these gardens of the seas in the serene and transparent autumn days after the great discovery, the soul of Columbus was at times overwhelmed and entranced by a sense of the beauty of everything in it and about it. Life seemed, as it were, a spiritual vision. "I know not," said the discoverer, "where first to go; nor are my eyes ever weary of gazing on the beautiful verdure. The singing of the birds is such that it seems as if one would never desire to depart hence." He speaks in a poet's phrases of the odorous trees, and of the clouds of parrots whose bright wings obscured the sun. His description of the sea and its gardens are full of glowing and sympathetic colorings, and all things to him had a spiritual meaning. On announcing his discovery on his return, he breaks forth into the follow- ing highly poetic exhortation: "Let processions be formed, let festivals be held, let lauds be sung. Let Christ rejoice on earth ! " Columbus was a student of the Greek and Latin poets, and of the poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures. The visions of Isaiah were familiar to him, and he thought that Isaiah himself at one time appeared to him in a vision. He loved Nature. To him the outer world was a garment of the Invisible; and it was before his great soul had suffered disappointment that he saw the sun-flooded waters of the Bahama Sea and the purple splendors of the Antilles. There is scarcely an adjective in the picturesque report of Columbus in regard to this sea and these islands that is not now as appropriate and fit- ting as in the days when its glowing words delighted Isabella, four hundred years ago. I recently passed from the sea of Watling's Island, the probable " San Sal- vador," to the point of Cuba discovered on the 28th of October, 1492, and to the coast of Haiti, the Hispaniola of Columbus, and the scene of the first settle- ment in the New World. I had studied the descriptions of Columbus, and almost every hour of the voyage brought them to mind like so many pictures. Watling's Island was probably the first landfall of Columbus, and the scene of the dramatic events of the elevation of the cross, the singing of the Te Dcum, and the unfurling of the banner of the double crowns of Leon and Castilo on the red nKirning of October 12, 1492. THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. 131 The San Salvador of the old maps, or Cat Island, a place now of some four thousand inhabitants, was not really the scene of Columbus's landing. Watling's Island lies far out in the sea. It is cooled by waving palms, and is full of singing birds. It has a tall lighthouse-tower, painted white, which rises nobly over the water. Its light can be seen nearly twenty miles. As one sees it, one recalls the fact that no friendly light except the night fagots of the Indians guided the eye of Columbus. Watling's Island has a population of less than seven hundred souls, and is not often visited by large steamers. I secured some fine specimens of " Sargasso," or gulf-weed, in passing through this sea, one of which I bottled in salt-water. Over these waters continually drift fields of this peculiar seaweed. It is of a bright yellow color; it shines brilliantly in the sun, and at a distance presents a scene of dazzling splendor. The " berries,'" which sailors say are poisonous to certain kinds of fish, are very salt. The weed seems always to move west before the trade-winds. Over these fields of shining drift, land birds came singing to the ships of the adventurers; and on one of the matted beds a land-crab appeared, — a sure indication of a near shore. The crews of Columbus feared to enter the Sargasso Sea. They had been told that in sailing west they would come to a sea of monsters, and they feared that these ocean meadows might cover hidden foes and perils. The peculiar beauty of the Bahama Sea is its clearness and deep purple color. This dark purple color is said to be the result of the " shadow of deep waters," though whether this is a scientific view I do not know. Under a cloudless sky the sea is luminous purple. A cloud shadow changes this royal hue into emerald. One gazes down into deeps unknown, and sees the pairs of dolphins as clearly as the white- winged birds overhead. One's eye follows the flying-fishes as clearly when they go down as when they dart into the open air. One here dreams of coral gardens, of sea nymphs, and recalls the ancient poets' conceptions of Oceanus and Neptune. All fancies seem possible to the creative imagination here. On the islands of the Greater and Lesser Antilles, or the Columbian Seas, grow the most abundant cocoanut groves in the world. The trees are graceful and lofty, and as a rule are slanted by the winds. They bear a solid burden of fruit. " I have counted from forty to fifty cocoanuts on a single tree ! " I said to an officer of my steamer, in surprise. " I have counted a hundred," was his answer. 132 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. It seems unaccountable that so slender a trunk can hold aloft in the air such a weight of fruit. The nuts are not only numerous on a single palm, but of great size. A single nut often yields a pitcher of cocoanut water, or two goblets, as we might say. The palms of all the islands must be as fruitful to-day as when the first voyagers saw them, Columbus speaks of flocks of parrots that " darkened the sun." Such flocks do not appear now; but in every port of the Antilles there is a parrot market. The natives love their parrots, and the cool trees and drinking-stands of the parrot market make a popular place of resort. As a rule, the birds are not confined in cages. They are left to climb about on the booths in which cocoanut water and cool drinks are sold. The people extend their hands to them, and the birds walk into them for the sake of gifts, caresses, and admiration. Women kiss these parrots, and hold their heads close to their lips when talking to them. The birds are usually jealous and ungrateful, and have but little to commend them but their art of begging and their beauty. Nearly all cities in Latin America have statues to Colon, or Columbus. One of the most beautiful of these is in the Paseo of the City of Mexico. These statues usually represent the great mariner as of most distinguished appearance ; lofty, chivalrous, poetic. The statue to Columbus in Nassau in the Bahamas is quite a different con- ception. We find in it the sturdy and traditional English tar. It is what Columbus might have been had he been born an Englishman. As England herself has been in effect transported to Nassau, New Providence, so has art here been made to take on her type and expression. The popular figure of Columbus as he stood at San Salvador on the morn- ing of the 1 2th of October, 1492, as it appears in Spanish prints, may here everywhere be found. It is a wholly different figure and face from the English statue. The glory of the Bahama Sea is the night. A sudden hush falls upon the purple serenity; the sunset flames, and the day is done. The roof of heaven seems low, and the stars come out like silver suns. One does not need to look upward to see the stars, but down. The heavens arc below as well as above; the sky is in the sea. The shadowy forms of pairs of dolphins pass under the transparent waters almost as distinctly as by day. The atmosphere, sky and sea all blend as one world. Amid such unimagined brilliancy and splendor the soul becomes a revela- THE COLUMBIAN DOORS OF THE CAPITOL. 1 33 tion to herself in the consciousness of beauty-worship, and thought takes wings. One recalls the pictures that Columbus gives of the expansion of his own soul. One here feels a longing to attain larger knowledge and all that is best in life, and wonders what new discoveries may await the spiritual faculties in wider horizons than these. Wherever he may go, the tourist will ever return in memory to the Sea of the Great Discovery. It is the paradise of the Ocean World, the temple gate of the West. A GRAND THANKSGIVING. That was a great Thanksgiving when, in the early spring of 1493, Colum- bus returned from his first voyage of discovery to Palos, and hastened to meet the Spanish sovereigns at Barcelona. Columbus was a man of faith. " God made me the messenger of the new heavens and the new earth," he said in his old age, " and told me where to find them." It was this faith that inspired him to weigh the earth, and to travel the unknown seas. Palos was full of excitement as the banner of the cross and crowns of Columbus rose above the wave, and streamed into the harbor. The bells rung. On landing, Columbus and his crew went to the principal church, accompanied by the whole population, and offered up solemn thanksgivings for the success of the expedition. Columbus hastened to Barcelona to meet the Court. His journey was a march of triumph. It was the middle of April, the month of nightingales and flowers. Colum- bus entered the city amid music, bells, and shouts of triumph. Ferdinand and Isabella, seated under a superb canopy, received him as a viceroy rather than an admiral, and requested him to relate to them the history of his voyage. He did so, surrounded by the Indians whom he had brought with him, with their gay plumes, and offerings of tropic birds and fruits. As he ended his wonderful narrative, there arose a burst of music, and bore away to heaven the thoughts of the sovereigns and nobles and people, already thrilled and melted by the most marvellous tale ever told of human achievement. It was the chapel-choir of Isabella. " We praise Thee, O God ; we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord ; all the earth doth worship Thee, the Father everlasting."' The majestic Latin hymn swept on, until it reached the subhme words: — 134 ZIGZAG JOURA'EYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. " Holy, holy, Lord God of hosts, heaven and earth are full of the majesty of thy glory ! " The great audience was filled with ecstatic devotion. It was, perhaps, the most happy moment of Columbus's life, — this first thanksgiving for the new world. The two stories awakened such an interest in the young peoples' minds, both in the Fair and Ocean World of the Antilles, that the way to Chicago was full of joyous hope and anticipation. Nothing so makes life happy as bright prospects, and in such prospects the class lived during the rest of the journey to Jackson Park at the Columbian Fair, and to the tomb of Columbus at Havana, by way of the great Mississippi Valley and the Mexican Gulf. In Washington the party had been introduced to several persons who were interested in the great World's Fair. Among them a com- missioner from Jamaica. He accompanied the party from their hoteU on their last visit to the Capitol, and listened with deep interest to Mrs, Green's well-prepared incident. As they sat on the stone seats near the Washington statue, in front of the Capitol, Arthur said to the Jamaican commissioner: — " You live in the Antilles. How does the Sea of Discovery appear to-day .f* " The answer was very intelligent. The commissioner loved the beauty of the Bahama Sea, CHAPTER IX. CHICAGO AND THE GREAT WORLD'S FAIR. The Wonders of 1893. — The Story of Black Partridge. — Dark Days of Old. [HICAGO is the head of the great Mississippi Valley. Situated on the Lake though she is, she yet wears the crown of that vast empire that the Father of Waters leads from the crystal lands of the Red River of the North to the territory of the Red River of the South and to the sunny Gulf whose shores are the tropics. One of the missionary fathers of the old days of Earliest America is said to have seen a vision of a populous city in the sky when his canoe touched the shores of Lake Michigan, where now the most progressive city in the world lifts her steeples in the air. It would not seem strange that a pioneer should have such a vision. The city arose as under the wand of enchantment. Here came La Salle, and vanished. Here lived and fought the tribes of the mini, and passed away; their plumes disappearing in the sunset as they set out toward the Mississippi after they had signed the Treaty of Chicago, — a scene worthy of a painter, and one that should have representation at the Great Fair. In i o o » CHICAGO AND THE GREAT WORLD'S FAIR. 1 59 been made ; and shawls, ribbons, and feathers fluttered about in all directions. The ludicrous appearance of one young fellow who had arrayed himself in a muslin gown and the bonnet of one of the ladies, would, under other circum- stances, have afforded matter of amusement. Black Partridge, Wau-ban-see, and Kee-po-tah, with two other Indians, having established themsches in the porch of the building as sentinels, to pro- tect the family from any evil the young men might be excited to commit, all remained tranquil for a short space after the conflagration. Very soon, however, a party of Indians from the Wabash made their appearance. These were, decidedly, the most hostile and implacable of all the tribes of the Pottowattamies. Being more remote, they had shared less than some of their brethren in the kindness of Mr. Kinzie and his family, and consequently their sentiments of regard for them were less powerful. Runners had been sent to the villages to apprise them of the intended evacuation of the post, as well as of the plan of the Indians to attack the troops. Thirsting to participate in such a scene, they hurried on ; and great was their mortification, on arriving at the river Aux Plaiiies, to meet with a party of their friends having with them their chief Nee-scot-nee-meg, badly wounded, and to learn that the battle was over, the spoils divided, and the scalps all taken. On arriving at Chicago they blackened their faces, and proceeded towards the dwelling of Mr. Kinzie. From his station on the piazza Black Partridge had watched their ap- proach, and his fears were particularly awakened for the safety of Mrs. Helm (Mr. Kinzie's step-daughter), who had recently come to the post, and was per- sonally unknown to the more remote Indians. By his advice she was made to assume the ordinary dress of a French woman of the country; nameh', a short gown and petticoat, with a blue cotton handkerchief wrapped around her head. In this disguise she was conducted by Black Partridge to the house of Ouil- mette, a Frenchman with a half-breed wife, who formed a part of the establish- ment of Mr. Kinzie, and whose dwelling was close at hand. It so happened that the Indians came first to this house, in their search for prisoners. As they approached, the inmates, fearful that the fair com- plexion and general appearance of Mrs. Helm might betray her for an Ameri- can, raised a large feather-bed and placed her under the edge of it, upon the bedstead, with her face to the wall. Mrs. Bisson, the sister of Ouilmcttc's wife, then seated herself with her sewing upon the front of the bed. l6o ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. It was a hot day in August, and the feverish excitement of fear and agita- tion, together with her position, which was nearly suffocating, became so intol- erable that Mrs. Helm at length entreated to be released and given up to the Indians. " I can but die," said she ; " let them put an end to my misery at once." Mrs. Bisson replied, " Your death would be the destruction of us all, for Black Partridge has resolved that if one drop of blood of your family is spilled, he will take the Hves of all concerned in it, even his nearest friends ; and if the work of murder commences, there will be no end of it, so long as there remains one white person or half-breed in the country." This expostulation nerved Mrs. Helm with fresh resolution. The Indians entered, and she could occasionally see them from her hiding-place gliding about, and stealthily inspecting every part of the room, though without making any ostensible search, until, apparently satisfied that there was no one concealed, they left the house. All this time Mrs. Bisson had kept her seat upon the side of the bed, calmly sorting and arranging the patchwork of the quilt on which she was engaged, and preserving an appearance of the utmost tranquillity, although she knew not but that the next moment she might receive a tomahawk in her brain. From Ouilmette's house the party of Indians proceeded to the dwelling of Mr. Kinzie. They entered the parlor, in which the family were assembled with their faithful protectors, and seated themselves upon the floor in silence. Black Partridge perceived from their moody and revengeful looks what was passing in their minds, but he dared not remonstrate with them, fie only observed in a low tone to Wau-ban-see, — " We have endeavored to save our friends, but it is in vain, — nothing will save them now." At this moment a friendly whoop was heard from a party of new-comers on the opposite bank of the river. Black Partridge sprang to meet their leader, as the canoes in which they had hastily embarked touched the bank near the house. " Who are you ? " demanded he. " A man. Who are you ? " "A man like yourself; but tell m^zvho yow are," — meaning, "Tell me your disposition, and which side you are for." " I am the Sau-ga-nash ! " "Then make all speed to the house, — your friend is in danger, and you alone can save him." "©r^ v..» .-.:——.' u CHICAGO AND THE GREAT WORLD'S FAIR. 1 63 Billy Caldwell ^ — for it was he — entered the parlor with a calm step, and without a trace of agitation in his manner. He deliberately took ofif his accoutrements, and placed them with his rifle behind the door; then saluted the hostile savages. " How now, my friends ! A good day to you. I was told there were "enemies here, but I am glad to find only friends. Why have you blackened your faces ? Is it that you are mourning for the friends you have lost in battle," purposely misunderstanding this token of evil designs, " or is it that you are fasting? If so, ask our friend here, and he will give you to eat. He is the Indians' friend, and never yet refused them what they had need of" Thus taken by surprise, the savages were ashamed to acknowledge their bloody purpose. They therefore said modestly that they came to beg of their friends some white cotton in which to wrap their dead, before interring them. This was given to them with some other presents, and they took their departure peaceably from the premises. 1 Billy Caldwell was a half-breed, and a chief of the nation. In his reply, "I am a Sau-ga- nash," or Englishman, he designed to convey, "I am a white man." Had he said, "I am a Pottowattamie," it would have been interpreted to mean, " I belong to my nation, and am prepared to go all lengths with them." CHAPTER X. THE LAND OF LINCOLN. To St. Louis by the Way of Peoria and Springfield. T Peoria the class stopped to visit Starved Rock, where was the old French fort of St. Louis, and where the last of the Illini were surrounded by the Lake tribes, and perished. Poetry and legendary lore here pictures a dramatic scene. The Lake tribes came down from the north, and <"be Illini of the prairies of flowers took their stand against them on the Rock of the Illinois. Here, with abundant stores, and the cool water sparkling beneath them, the prairie tribes thought that they were secure against all enemies. But their stores became spent, and the canoes of their foes cut off their supply of water, and they starved, and perished from thirst. In their last fevers they could look down on the cool water of the river which they could not reach, — a tragedy that might well excite the imagination of a poet or an artist. Our country has many great stories that art has not told ; and this is one of them. A land of corn-fields and wheat-fields, of oaks and streams, and we are amid scenes which tlie name of Lincoln will ever make immortal. The spires of Springfield rise in the clear, sunny air; the whistle blows, and we are in the capital of the rich State of IlHnois. The class hurried away to see a plain house on a plain street, which was once the home of the great President; then to the State House, to wonder at its unsightly situation and magnificence ; and then to that silent city without the city, where is no legislation, but THE LAND OF LINCOLN. 1 67 the tomb of the commoner to whom the world has given a place among undying names. The air was a dream of sunshine, and the corn-fields a golden glory, as the class passed beyond the quiet, prosperous city limits. The wide land of plenty and prosperity opened before them, and seemed to nurture happiness everywhere. One could hardly dream here that there had ever been a war. Oak Ridge Cemetery, where the peaceful heart of Lincoln rests amid the monumental scenes of war, originally consisted of a few acres that were called a "graveyard." It was enclosed by a fence by the growing city ; and here families dug graves where they pleased, for the land was free. The young city grew, and with it the city of the dead among the oaks by its side. After the death of Lincoln and the great national funeral, it passed under the control of the Lincoln Monument Asso- ciation, having been selected as the place of a monument to the martyr President that should endure for generations. The Cemetery is about one and a half miles north from the new State House. The class approached the Mausoleum with a feeling of awe, and stood silent for a time beneath the sunny shaft and dark groups of statues. " The shoeless boy who came to Indiana, and lived in a house without windows or doors, could hardly have dreamed of a resting- place like this," said Mr. Green to a soldier guarding the monument. " No," answered the guard, who knew the history of the Lincoln family well. " I often think of Lincoln's mother as I gaze up to the shaft, and enter the chambers. Lincoln once said in Washington, ' It was she that placed me here,' and again, ' All that I am or all that I ever hope to be I owe to my angel mother.' Her name was Nancy Hanks Lincoln, a simple Baptist pioneer, whose chief comfort was her religion and her ability to sing hymns. She died when Abraham was i68 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. some ten years old, leaving two children. When she knew that she was to die, she selected the place for her grave under some great trees, w^^mi ( v^' "1:^ THE LINCOLN' MONUMENT, SPRINGFIELD, ILL. and it was there that the boy Lincoln brought Elder Elkins all the way from Kentucky to preach her funeral sermon. " Come," he continued, " come with me." He led the class into the monument, and pointed to a stone. " Read that ! " THE LAND OF LIXCOLN. 1 69 The class read : — ABRAHAMO. LINCOLNIO REGION. FOEDERAT. AMERIC. PRAESIDI. II. HVNC. EX. SERVl. TVLLI AGGERE. LAPIDEM OVO. VTRIVSOVE. LIBERTATIS ADSERTORIS FORTISS MEMORIA. CONIVNCATVR GIVES. ROMAN! D. A. MDCCCLXV " Who was Servius Tullius } " asked Arthur of the guard. " He was the sixth king of Rome." " And why is this stone here.'* " " It was sent as a present to Abraham Lincohi by distinguished citizens of Rome, on his second election as President. It was found in the cellar of the White House. It is thought that President Lin- coln was so overcome by the compliment of being compared to so great a king that he modestly hid it there. But the stone was prophecy." "How?" " Lincoln's life and that of the Roman king were parallels. Both were born of very poor parents ; both emancipated the slaves of their country; both were defenders of the principles of equal rights, and both were assassinated, and fell martyrs to liberty." " When did this king live } " " Nearly six hundred years before the birth of Christ." " And this stone was from the Roman wall that he erected.'* " "Yes." " Guard } " " Do you think that Lincoln ever thought that all of his life might be like that of Servius Tullius ? " " I have thought so. That may be the reason why he wished to hide the stone. He used to say to his friends that he would not sur- vive the war; that his own life would end with his work. He said to 170 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. one : ' I feel a presentiment that I shall not outlast the war. When it is over, my work will be done ; ' and to another he said : ' I may not see the end ; but it will come, and I shall be vindicated.' So you see that he read his destiny." ABRAHAM LINCOLN. When the party turned away from the stone coffin, Memorial Hall, and the sun-flooded cemetery, it was to talk of Lincoln, and to seek among the sons and daughters of his old neighbors incidents of his wonderful life. THE LAND OF LINCOLN. 171 Lincoln shrank from the terrible duty of war. He hated the shedding of blood, and was happy in the thought of retirement and peace. It is said that just before the assassination he said to his wife, " When the cares of State are over, I will go to Palestine." The late James Franklin Fitts some years ago contributed to the "Youth's Companion" a story which shows Lincoln's heart. It is vivid and dramatic in form, and written with evident feeling ; and we copy it here. It is a story worthy to live. THE MESSAGE OF LIFE. Twenty years ago I was one of many witnesses of a scene that has left upon my memory an impress perhaps deeper than that of any other occurrence of that stirring time. The sequel of the story, which I learned some months afterwards, is narrated here with the principal event; and both together deserve a larger audience than any that has yet heard them, because they touch the heart and arouse those feelings of sympathy which make the whole world kin. It was in February, 1865. I was a staff-officer of a division of the Union Army stationed about Winchester, Virginia; and military operations being then practically over in that region, I had succeeded in getting leave of absence for twenty days. The time was short enough, at best, for one who had been long absent from family and friends, and two days were to be consumed each way in getting to and from my Northern home. I lost no time in making the first stage of my journey, which was a brief one, from Winchester to Harper's Ferry, by rail. Reaching the latter place after dark, I found, to my great disappointment, that the last train for the day for Baltimore had left an hour before, and that the next train would start at five o'clock on the following morning. There was no difficulty in finding a lodging, poor as it was ; but there was trouble in getting out of it as early as I wished. Previous experience warned me that the state of agreeable excitement and anticipation that possessed me that night was not favorable to sleep; and fearing a heavy slumber in the early hours of the morning, when I should at last lose myself, I gave a small reminder to the negro servant, and received his solemn promise that he would arouse me at four o'clock. The result was exactly what I feared. In a most exasperating condition of 172 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. wakefulness I lay until it seemed certain that the night must be half gone; but an examination of my watch by the light of a match showed that the hour was but a few minutes past ten. Is there anything more annoying than the ineffectual effort to sleep, when Nature is fairly crying out for sleep? Every noise of the night came to me with the most painful distinctness, — the barking of a doo-, the tramp of a body of soldiers as they went their rounds relieving o-uard, the laugh and song of some boisterous revellers, and even the musical ripple of the Shenandoah River just below me. The long and vivid story of what had happened to me since last leaving home passed through my thoughts, and only added to their excitement. All the wise remedies for insomnia that occurred to me were successively tried, and found wanting. Again my watch was consulted ; it marked half-past eleven. Twice after this I heard the guard relieved ; so that it must have been later than two o'clock when sleep visited my weary eyes. A rude disturbance at my door awakened me, and I became dimly conscious of the voice of the negro outside. "What is it?" I cried testily. "What do you wake me up for at this time of night?" " 'Deed, sah, Ise sorry ; 'pon my honah, I is, sah ! but de train hab done gone dese two hours." It was even so. Broad daylight — seven o'clock in the morning — the train gone, and no chance to get out of Harper's Ferry till twelve more precious hours of my leave had passed, — this was the unpleasant situation to which I awoke upon that dreary February morning. To make the best of it, is the true philosophy of life; in fact, it is folly to do anything else; but human nature will assert itself, and I grumbled all to myself that morning, as most of my readers would have done in my place. Breakfast over, I strolled around the queer old place, not to see its sights, for they were very familiar to me, but merely to while away the time. Of all the places in this land where man has made his habitation, none is more remarkable from its natural situation than this. Here the Potomac and the Shenandoah unite and break through the lofty barrier of the Blue Ridge ; and Harper's Ferry, located at the point of their confluence, is environed by lofty mountains, up the steep side of one of which the village seems to clamber and cling for support. From the lofty top of Maryland Heights, opposite, a wonderful natural panorama may be seen ; and of this view Thomas Jefferson wrote that it was worth a journey from Europe to see it. But if you are set down in Harper's Ferry, at the base of these great hills, your view is cramped and circumscribed in every direction. THE LAND OF LINCOLN. 173 I went back to the hotel after an hour's stroll, wrote some letters, read all the newspapers I could find about the place, and shortly after eleven o'clock went out again. This time my ear was greeted with the music of a band, playing a slow piarch. Several soldiers were walking briskly past, and I inquired of them if there was to be a military funeral. " No, sir," one of them replied, — " not exactly. It is an execution. Two deserters from one of the artillery regiments here are to be shot up on Bolivar Heights. Here they come ! " The solemn strains of the music were heard near at hand, and the cortege moved into the street where we stood, and wound slowly up the hill. First came the band; then General Stevenson, the military commandant of the post, and his staff; then the guard, preceding and following an ambulance, in which were the condemned men. A whole regiment followed, marching by platoons, with reversed arms, making in the whole a spectacle than which nothing can be more solemn. Close behind it came, as it seemed to me, the entire population of Harper's Ferry; a motley crowd of several thousand, embracing soldiers off duty, camp- followers, negroes, and what not. It was a raw, damp day, not a ray of sun- light had yet penetrated the thick clouds, and under foot was a thin coating of snow. Nature seemed in sympathy with the misery of the occasion. The spot selected for the dreadful scene was rather more than a mile up the Heights, where a high ridge of ground formed a barrier for bullets that might miss their mark. Arrived here, the troops were formed in two large squares of one rank each, one square within the other, with an open face toward the ridge. Two graves had been dug near this ridge, and a coffin was just in rear of each grave. Twenty paces in front was the firiag-party of six files, under a lieutenant, at ordered arms ; the general and his staff sat on their horses near the centre. Outside the outer square, the great crowd of spectators stood in perfect silence. The condemned men had been brouglit from the ambulance, and each one sat on his coffin, with his open grave before him. They were very different in their aspect. One, a man of more than forty years, showed hardly a trace of feeling in his rugged face; but the other was a mere lad, of scarcely twenty, who gazed about him with a wild, restless look, as if he could not yet understand that he was about to endure the terrible punish- ment of his offence. The proceedings of the court-martial were read, reciting the charges against these men, their trial, conviction, and sentence; and then the order of General Sheridan approving the sentence, " to be shot to death with musketry," and 174 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. directing it to be carried into effect at twelve o'clock noon of this day. The whole scene was passing immediately before my eyes; for a staff-uniform will pass its wearer almost anywhere in the army, and I had passed the guards and entered the inner square. A chaplain knelt by the condemned men and prayed fervently, whispered a few words in the ear of each, wrung their hands, and retired. Two soldiers stepped forward with handkerchiefs to bind the eyes of the sufferers, and I heard the officer of the firing-party give the command in a low tone : " Atten- tion ! — shoulder — arms ! " I looked at my watch ; it was a minute past twelve. The crowd outside had been so perfectly silent that a flutter and disturbance running through it at this instant fixed everybody's attention. My heart gave a great jump as I saw a mounted orderly urging his horse through the crowd, and waving a yellow envelope over his head. The squares opened for him, and he rode in and handed the envelope to the general. Those who were permitted to see that despatch read the following : — , ; Washington, D. C, Feb. 23, 1865. Gen. Job Stevenson, Harper'' s Ferry. Deserters reprieved till further orders. Stop the execution. A. Lincoln. The older of the two men had so thoroughly resigned himself to his fate that he seemed unable now to realize that he was saved, and he looked around him in a dazed, bewildered way. Not so the other; he seemed for the first time to recover his consciousness. He clasped his hands together, and burst into tears. As there was no military execution after this at Harper's Ferry, I have no doubt that the sentence of both was finally commuted. Powerfully as my feelings had been stirred by this scene, I still suspected that the despatch had in fact arrived before the cortege left Harper's Ferry, and that all that happened afterward was planned and intended as a terrible lesson to these culprits. That afternoon I visited General Stevenson at his headquarters, and after introducing myself, and referring to the morning's scene on Bolivar Heights, I ventured frankly to state my suspicions, and ask if they were not well- founded. "Not at all," he instantly replied. "The men would have been dead had that despatch reached me two minutes later." THE LAND OF LIXCOLX. 1 77 "Were you not expecting a reprieve, general? " " I had some reason to expect it last night; but as it did not come, and as the line was reported down between here and Baltimore this morning, I had given it up. Still, in order to give the fellows every possible chance for their lives, I left a mounted orderly at the telegraph office, with orders to ride at a gallop if a message came for me from Washington. It is well I did! — the precaution saved their lives." How^ the despatch came to Harper's Ferry must be told in the words of the man who got it through. THE TELEGRAPHER'S STORY. On the morning of the 24th of February, 1865, I was busy at my work in the Baltimore Telegraph Office, sending and receiving messages. At half-past ten o'clock, — for I had occasion to mark the hour, — the signal C — A — L, several times repeated, caused me to throw all else aside, and attend to it. That was the telegraphic cipher of the War Department; and telegraphers, in those days, had instructions to put that service above all others. A message was quickly ticked off from the President to the commanding officer at Har- per's Ferry, reprieving two deserters who were to be shot at noon. The mes- sage was dated the day before, but had in some way been detained or delayed between the Department and the W'ashington office. A few words to the Baltimore office, which accompanied the despatch, ex- plained that it had " stuck " at Baltimore ; that an officer direct from the Presi- dent was waiting at the Washington office, anxious to hear that it had reached Harper's Ferry, and that Baltimore must send it on instantly. Baltimore would have been very glad to comply; but the line to Harper's Ferry had been interrupted since daylight, — nothing whatever had passed. So 1 explained to Washington. The reply came back before my fingers had left the instrument. " You niHst get it through. Do it, some way, for Mr. Lincoln. He is very anxious ; has just sent another messenger to us." I called the office-superintendent to my table, and repeated these despatches to jiim. He looked at the clock. " Almost eleven," he said. " I see just one chance, — a very slight one. Send it to New York ; ask them to get it to Wheeling, and then it may get through by Cumberland and Martinsburg. Stick to "em, and do what you can." By this time I had become thoroughly aroused in the business, and I set to 12 178 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSTPPL work with a will. The despatch with the explanation went to New York, — and promptly came the reply that it was hopeless; the wires were crowded, and nothing could be done till late in the afternoon, if then. I responded just as Washington had replied to me. It must be done ; it is a case of life and death ; do it for Mr. Lincoln's sake, who is v^ery anxious about it. And I added for myself, by way of emphasis, " For God's sake, let 's save these poor fellows ! " And I got the New York people thoroughly aroused as I was myself. The answer came back, "Will do what we can." It was now ten minutes past eleven. In ten minutes more I heard from New York that the despatch had got as far as Buftalo, and could not go direct to Wheeling; it must go on to Chicago. Inquiries from Washington were repeated every five minutes, and I sent what had reached me. Half-past eleven the despatch was at Chicago, and they were working their best to get it to Wheeling. Something was the matter ; the Wheeling office did not answer. The next five minutes passed without a word; then — huzza ! — New York says the despatch has reached Wheeling, and the operator there says he can get it through to Harper's Ferry in time. At this point the news stopped. New York could learn nothing further for mc, after several efi'orts, and I could only send to Washington that I hoped it was all right, but could not be sure. Later in the day the line was working again to Harper's Ferry, and then I learned that the despatch had reached the office there at ten minutes before twelve, and that it was brought to the place of execution just in time. Arthur, who had collected magnolia leaves at the tomb of Wash- ington for his Honie Museum, found oak leaves and acorns at Oak Ridge for the same purpose. He pressed the leaves, and wrote under them some of the noblest sentiments of the martyr president. He found in Springfield an old leather-covered English Reader, such as had been used in one of the schools that Lincoln attended. This he read with deep interest, and added it to his numerous treas- ures. Lincoln once said that the English Reader was the best book that was ever compiled. CHAPTER XL ST. LOUIS, THE CITY OF THE MOUNDS AND PARKS. N old Indian days, when Missouri was a part of Lou- isiana, the town of St. Louis was known as the coun- try of the Mounds. Here were the ancient temples of the red races, and here the council grounds of the vanishing tribes. After the city became a com- mercial centre, and historic races had disappeared, it kept the old traditions of the mysterious past by changing the council grounds of the Mounds into world-famous parks, hi this beautiful city of the Mississippi, man may live in long summers of fairy lands. In its park areas it surpasses all other cities in the United States, with the possible exception of Philadelphia. Thqre is Benton Park, of the grottoes and lakelets ; Carondolet Park, with its cool drives and fine views; Forest Park, of thirteen hundred and seventy-one acres, where one may roam through more than one thou- sand acres of forest trees, or rest near a Moorish pagoda, and listen to patriotic music of all lands ; Lafayette Park, of thirty acres, in the beautiful part of the city, where the statue of Thomas H. Benton towers over an inscription of the most prophetic words that ever fell from his lips; "There is the east; there is India!" (in reference to the Pacific territory); Tower Grove Park, of two hundred and seventy- six acres, a classic place of lawns and statues, where one may meet statues of Shakespeare and Columbus and Haron Von Humboldt ; there are Hyde Park, Lyon Park, OTuller Park, Gravois Park, and the Boulevards and gardens without number. The long stretches of i8o ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. land that overlook the great river are all a park. The Mounds have gone, but the prairie flowers still bloom there, and the river rolls below as calmly and majestically as of old towards the purple Gulf sun- shine and palms. But the delight of the young people of the roman- tic city is the Fair Grounds, where one finds one's self in the animal kingdom of all lands. We will speak of it soon. St. Louis stands in the centre of the Mississippi Valley, and is the Northern port city of the Father of Waters. It was founded by the French in the last days of the Monarchy. In 1764 Pierre Auguste La- clede established a trading-post here, at a point of the city now known as old Market Square, near the Cathedral. At this time the great river was the dividing-line between the French and the English possessions. The site was then a part of Northern Louisiana. He placed Auguste and Pierre Chouteau in charge of the post colony. The descendants of the Chouteaus (pro- nounced Shoe-toe) are among the most influential and patriotic families of the city. The post colony named their town St. Louis, in honor of Louis LEARNING THE RIVER ST. LOUIS. iSl XV., the King of France. In 1768 the post was occupied by Spanish troops, but it reverted to France in 1800. In 1803 the entire territory of Louisiana was pur- chased by the United States, and the Stars and Stripes were lifted ovci the red sod towers of the fur-traders of St. Louis. The town at that time contained only about a thousand inhabitants, and con- sisted largely of one hundred and eighty houses, " built of logs set on end." St. Louis now leaped into life, and became the leader of the pioneer enterprises of the great Mississippi Valley. John Jacob Astor made here a trading-house, which gained for him much of his early wealth. The first railways west of the Mississippi started here ; the first schools and newspapers. Then Thomas H. Benton arose to fame, and lent to the city the lustre of his prophetic genius. He saw the future of the great empire that lay beyond the Mississippi, and gave his heart and mind to its develop- ment. To-day a half-million inhabitants cross and recross the colossal bridge that spans the great river, and the city turns its easy wealth into beauty and works of art and beneficence. The first visit made by our Tourists in the city of the ancient Mounds was to Lafayette Park. General Lafayette visited St. Louis on his return to America, and the people here have always held his LAFAYETTE. l82 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. memory in filial and affectionate regard. His statue adorns one of the shaded avenues of the Park, and so the heart of the city will ever perpetuate his effigy and his name. The Park is refined and elegant in its outlines, and has an old French atmosphere about it that harmonizes well with its name. The central figure of the tasteful avenues here is the statue of Thomas H. Benton, the great Missouri Senator, and the author of " Thirty Years' View." The once famous speeches of this man are almost forgotten, but long the inspiration of a poetic proph- ecy will live ! Bishop Berke- ley said, " Westward the course of empire takes its way," and the line made him immortal. Benton, in plead- ing for the occupation of the great Northwest, said, point- ing to the Pacific : " There is the east ; there is India ! '* The parts of the Puget Sea that now are opening to the Orient will attest how genuine was the inspiration of that utterance. " A little well written is immortality," said the poet Halleck. A little well spoken has the same crown ; an ounce of a diamond is worth a ton of glass ; the greatest truths of life find expression in a few choice words. The statue is majestic, and its seriousness contrasts with the light- ness and gayety of the surrounding scenes, — with the airy trees, the music pagodas, the smiling hedges and bright flowers. The face has the prophet's mood. It is worth a journey across the continent to sit down in its presence, and here to dream of ultimate America, as he saw it, and as we may more clearly see it to-day. In Benton's day A LIGHT-KEEPER. ST. LOUIS. 183 people went from the Mississippi to the Pacific by the .Oregon Trail. To-day the empire between the Mississippi and the Pacific is becom- ing the greater United States, where the seat of political power is to be. The grand march began while yet Benton waved his hand. The Fair Grounds of St. Louis arc amono- the wonders of America. Here is an amphitheatre capable of sheltering a hundred thousand people. A thousand trotters have been found here at a single Fair, and the Annual Fair is the occasion of the State s gala-days. The air is cool with sifted sunshine, and blazes with flowers. The increasing products of the stall are brought here year after year. But to young Missouri the exhibits and races are minor attractions. The little feet as they turn the turnstile hurry towards the Zoo. The Zoo of St. Louis } One loves to remember it. We never have seen such respectable-looking bears in any other pits, — great, fat, ainiablc-\ooV\VL^^ creatures ! We cannot think that they would harm any one if they were let loose. They seem so glad to see company, too. Arthur went there once on a rainy day, when they seemed lone- some, and one of them danced and rolled over and over with delight as he greeted them. The animals here are mercifully kept and treated. They are not cramped for room. They all seem friendly, — the ele- phant, the sea-lions, and all. In fact, everything appears to be happy here, — the birds in the trees, the monkeys in the cages, the great com- panies of children, and even the flowers. The beautifully-shaded grounds seem to be endless. One is sorry as the afternoon hours grow short, and the post-Mississippi sun blazes behind the trees, to turn again the turnstile, and to face the city. St. Louis is rich, but she believes that life was given for something better than money- making. She is a healthy city, which is natural, as she does so much to keep her people in the open air. We do not wonder that her citizens love her, and are proud of her, and guard her fame \\\\.\\ jealous care. If the young St. Louisan may go to the animal world at one suburb, 1 84 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. he may find the trees and plants of Bible lands at another. The Shaw- Gardens are famous everywhere, and they are as free as the air of the prairie. They were given to the city by Mr. Henry Shaw, a retired millionaire, who spent some thirty years of his life in their develop- ment. They are the Kew Gardens, the Jardin des Plantes, of America. Almost every species of trees and plants may be found here in natural groups and associations. Here we may find the olive-tree, the cam- phor-tree, and almond and the cinchona ; here the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valley. The glory of the city is the river, and the brido^e that crowns the river. One should see the brids^e from the river at night. In autumn evenings the streets are frequently illumi- nated with many- colored lights, but the bridge is an arch of splen- dor on every night of the year. Next to the Brooklyn Bridge, it is the most stu- pendous structure of its kind in the country. It is an event in one's history to cross it, and one leaves it for the last time wdth regretful looks, and yet with gratitude for the lesson that they had learned here, and that every one learns here, that a true and liberal public spirit may make a city doubly dear to the hearts and homes of its inhabitants. The Union Depot of St. Louis, like that of other great Western cities, presents a strange spectacle on the departure of trains. The tracks and car-yards are of themselves a little city. In the great waiting-rooms are to be seen families from all parts of the civilized world : emigrants from all the countries of Europe ; Chinese, Negroes ; elegant tourists on their way to Mexico; invalids going to the Hot A TOW. sr. LOUIS. 185 Springs of Arkansas ; poor women with great families of children ; men with tickets for Texas ; newsboys, — wealth, poverty, gay spirits and misery ; happy faces, anxious faces, disappointed faces ; oh, what a dissolving view of humanity it is, and how much of it is pitiable ! One's heart aches at the sight of the emigrant mothers and children, and wishes that some of the easy flow of wealth and luxury in the palace cars could make them happy for a single hour in their anxiety and necessity. One is shocked at the indifference with which the gay world passes them by. These women have come here, not for them- selves, but for their children ; and these children are to be the future electors of presidents. We often look upon these mothers as heroines, and these children as national trusts. " You are having a hard time with your children," said a veiled lady to one of these mothers in the waiting-room. " I pity you : here is a dollar for you. You have greater cause to pity me : I have lost mine." She gave the distressed woman a look of sisterly sympathy, and followed her coachman, and vanished into the night. We hope that her sleep was sweet, and that there is a better world than this for such as she. CHAPTER XII. STORY-TELLING ON THE MISSISSIPPI. M ^ HE Mississippi! Father of Waters! The Indians called it the Great River, and, including the Mis- souri, it is the longest river in the world. It rises among the clear lakes of Minnesota, near the sources of the long Red River of the North. With the Canal that connects the Lakes with its waters, it makes an island of half the United States. It is 2986 miles long, or to the source of the Missouri 4500 miles. It drains an area of 1,226,600 square miles, an empire that once teemed with a crowded population of high intelligence, that long ago vanished, and that now is being repeopled from all civilized lands, — an empire where France came and went, having her romantic seat at Kaskaskia, and its vice-royal city at New Orleans. A boat may ride on the river 2200 miles, or with the Missouri 3000 or more miles. The river and its branches form the boundaries of one fourth of the States. Its waters, like the heart and its arteries, touches all the central life of the States. The Mississippi Valley is the heart of the great Republic. Its banks is a procession of cities : St. Paul, Galena, Keokuk, Ouincy, St. Louis, Memphis, Vicksburg, Natchez, and New Orleans. Ijy canal it touches Chicago and the Lakes, Canada and the East. It^ heart-beat is the pulse of America. STORY-TELLING ON THE MISSISSIPPL 189 John Law dreamed of it in 171 7, and formed the Mississippi Scheme that bankrupted his countrymen. Though the great valley did not prove an Eldorado, it has more than fulfilled the largest visions of the imaginative speculator. The class had planned to go from St. Louis to New Orleans by water, and thence to Tampa, Florida, by rail, and to Havana, by one of the Plant Line VIEW OX THE RIVER. of steamers. It was a clear, bright early au- tumn day as the boat which they first took glided away from the stupendous bridge that spans the Mississippi at St. Louis. The bridge looked like an arch in the j '"^I^-'^?/?-^,^ heavens as it disappeared. In warm, serene weather ^-^ boat-travel on the Mississippi is a delight. He misses his journey who makes a pleasure tour to New Orleans from St. Louis by rail. Plantations, towns, cities, battlefields, companies of happy negroes everywhere ; fields white with cotton, planters' houses, log-cabins, and cool trees. One has leisure for story-telling as the boat glides along, and Mrs. Green was called upon to be the entertainer on the sunny decks. The lower deck seemed swarming with colored people, light-hearted and happy ; and Mrs. Green, with a heart full of benevolence, thought that she saw in that little province of Africa a calling to do missionary work. So, on one sunny, lazy afternoon, she went down to these populous quarters, and sat down to question some of the boys as to 1 90 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. their religious knowledge and spiritual progress. Arthur went with her, and listened with the deepest interest to the results of her efforts. " Can you sing ? " began Mrs. Green, putting her question to a bright-eyed colored boy. " Yes, missus ; I can sing all night at the camp-meetin'." This was encourasinor. " Can you sing, missus ? " " Yes, some ; but not as well as I used to do." " Hymns 1 " "Yes." " I sing hymns." "Suppose you sing one." " I 'd hate to sing before a white lady from up Nof." " Oh, it is not so niuch Jiow you sing as w^hat you sing that will please me ! " "Well, — I'll tell you what 'tis; you sing, and I '11 sinor and we'll see which will hold out the longest." Mrs. Green was persuaded to begin the musical contest, in order to hear the boy's plantation songs. She selected a popular and very appro- priate old hymn : — A TYPICAL OLD-TIiMER. ' ' My brother, I wish you well ; My brother, I wish you well; When my Lord calls, I hope we all Will meet in the Promised Land." As soon as she had concluded this simple and fraternal stanza, the boy clasped both hands about his knees, and beo-an to rock to and fro. STORY-TELLIXG ON THE MISSISSIPPI. I9I Mis eyes sparkled with the light of one who sees victory afar, and he began : — " I '11 be there, I '11 be there. When the general roll is calling, I'll be there; I'll be there, I'll be there. When the general roll is calling, I'll be there. I hope to meet my brother there, When the general roll is calling; He used to join with me in prayer. Now you sing," said the boy. Mrs. Green continued : — " My sister, I wish you well ; My sister, I wish you well ; When my Lord calls, I hope we all Will meet in the Promised Land." The boy followed, — "I'll be there, I 'II be there," etc. " I hope to meet my sister there. Now you sing again." Mrs. Green continued : — " My pastor^ I wish you well ; My pastor, I wish you well," etc. The boy grinned, rocked to and fro, and continued : — " I '11 be there, I '11 be there , I hope to meet my pastor there," etc. " Now you go on," said he. Mrs. Green besjan to see the strans^e situation in which she was placed. She continued : — " Poor sinner, I wish you well. Poor sinner, I wish you well. When my Lord calls, I hope we all Will meet in the Promised Land." 192 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. The boy's eyes glowed : I "11 be there, I '11 be there," and here he rolled over, singing, — " I hope to meet poor sinners there. he, he, he ! Now go on, missus." Arthur was laughing, and people were gathering around the two singers and filling the deck. " Who shall I sing about next ? " she asked. "Oh, the capt'n and mate, and the names of all the boys. My name is Peter, mine is. They call me Pete. Sing, ' Peter I wish A MISSISSIPPI LUMBER-RAFT. you well ; ' then get at the names of all the boys, and wish them well. Then put in all the names of all the people you ever knew, and wish them well. Then go back to Bible times. You can sing all night in that way. I have a song that is everlasting, — as long as one has breth. Want to hear it ? " Poor Mrs. Green ! Here were unexpected events. While in a state of perplexity as to what to say and how to retire, she was held to her seat by hearing the young Wagner begin a most haunting melody in which all the colored people reverently joined : — STORY-TELLLXG ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 1 93 " The heaven-l)ells are ringing, The heaven-bells are ringing, About Jerusalem. Oh, do you love God, my brother? Oh, do you love God, my brother ? My soul is 'bout to shine." This song went on and on. In the second stanza it was "my sister;" in the third "my father;" in the fourth, "my mother;" in the fifth, "my elder;" and then the refrain took up, in successive stanzas, the names of the singers and their friends. It ceased only when the boat touched at landing. When the boat moved off again, the boy said, " Missus, tell us about the captains of the Nof, — them who made us free. Did you know Lincoln, or John Brown, or Garretson." " I knew Sumner," said Mrs. Green. " Goody, missus, did you ? Well, tell us 'bout him." " I well recall the day that he was buried," said Mrs. Green. " Buried ? tell us about that." Death and burial are the most interesting events in life to the mind of the negro. The colored people gathered around Mrs. Green in intense interest. The passengers also took seats near her, and among them were a number of people of political reputation and large intelligence. On board the boat was a party of Mexicans who had been to St. Louis in the interest of gold-mines in the Sierra Madre Mountains. Arthur soon made the acquaintance of these men, and learned Spanish rapidly by keeping near them. One of them spoke English fluently, and related to him many stories. He described the customs of Mexican life to him, the old cities, and the patriots of the struggles of the Republic. One of his stories, in a descriptive narrative, greatly interested, not only Arthur, but the class. 13 194 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. A STATESMAN'S BURIAL. It was a mild afternoon. The blue sky was barred and flecked with hght clouds. There was a solemn stillness in the air that seemed in harmony with the universal sorrow of the hour. Everywhere people were threading the avenues of Mount Auburn, Cambridge, converging around the tower and the highest land elevation, at whose foot the grave had been made. The terraced side of the hill overlooking the grave gradually filled with people, to the number of many thousands. They stood in reverent silence, awaiting the last sad scene. Half-mast flags were seen on every hand above the hill-tops, and the tolling of bells was heard in all of the surrounding towns, the measured tones of sorrow seeming to retreat into the cloudy distances until almost imperceptible to the ear. The grave was a simple brick vault in the earth, in an open lot on the slope of the hill from which the cemetery derives its name. Above it a solitary oak stretches a single strong arm. Near are the graves of Countess Ossoli, Agassiz, Septimus Felton, Burlingame, and other names distinguished in statemanship, literature, and art. We could but associate the gnarled oak, that was to shade the remains in sunshine and shelter them in storm, with the solitary grandeur of the character of the departed statesman. "A great man under the shadow of defeat," said Mr. Sumner to a friend, on the last social evening he ever spent, " is taught how precious are the uses of adversity ; and as an oak-trees roots are strength- ened by its shadow, so all defeats in a good cause are but resting-places on the road to victory at last." He, indeed, had grown strong in defeat like the oak in its own shadow, and the resting-place of victory awaited him at last. At nearly sunset the bells of Cambridge announced to the waiting multi- tudes that the procession was approaching, passing the old historic college, — his alma mater, the scene of his conscientious and studious youth. On the side of the hill, just above the place where we were waiting, stood an old colored woman, holding by the hand a bright-eyed little girl. Her face was thin and deeply wrinkled, but calm, patient, and trustful. The child's face seemed to indicate more of Caucasian beauty than of African blood. As I caught sight of the woman's sad countenance at every casual turning of the head, I felt almost constrained to ask her what sorrowful history had left its traces there. Had she been a slave? Had her children been forced away from her? Had she known the bitterest experience a mother can know in some hut by the savannas, amid the cotton-fields or the rice-swamps? STORY-TELLING ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 195 Presently a carriage was driven to the side of the grave. One might see through the glass front that it was loaded with flowers. A young lady, a daughter of Dr. S. G. Howe, who was to stand by the grave, as the represen- tative of Mr. Sumner's sister in California, alighted, and a wreath and cross of delicate exotics were laid on her arm. The old negro woman drew the child closer toward her with a trembling hand, and said, " Milly, those flowers are for him." Then came men bringing a cross of ivy and violets on a standard of pen- dant ferns, and set it in the centre of the lot, near the grave. I could hear a faint whisper amid the silence, " Those flowers are for him." As the sun was setting, its glory shrouded in broken masses of clouds, a company of officers mounted on black horses swept slowly round the hill. Hearts beat faster; but no one of the expectant assembly seemed to move. The hearse, with its guard mounted on white horses, followed. Behind it came the long line of coaches, in which were some of the most illustrious men of the nation. The procession stopped, the musicians and singers took their places, and the low, sweet tones o{ Integer Vitce, in tremulous measures, rose upon the air. It was an ode of Horace that Mr. Sumner had loved. As the coffin, buried in flowers and floral emblems, was removed from the hearse, the old slave woman's hand pointed tremblingly to it; and as it passed into the grave she tearfully said, " Milly, had it not been for him, you might have been a little slave." The shades of night were fast gathering as the coffin was lowered, while Dr. Sunderland repeated the Lord's Prayer. Cro.sses and wreaths of rarest flowers were thrown upon it, and among them one floral tribute of surpassing beauty, on which was the motto, " Do not let my Civil Rights Bill fail." An immense cross of lilies was placed at the head of the grave, rising like a white monument above the uncovered heads in the shadows. It was an impressive scene. Vice-President Wilson bent over the grave, his patriarchal form and white head conspicuous among the mourners. The divided statesmen had sat side by side in the Senate and fought the battle for freedom together for nearly a quarter of a century. Emerson was there, to whom the dying Senator sent his last messsage of love. Statesmen, scholars, poets, and philanthropists were there, in all of whose bosoms was a common sentiment. A hymn was sung, — Luther's majestic choral, " A mighty fortress is our God." The last impressive words of the hymn seemed indeed to emphasize the lesson of the statesman's life: — " The word above all earthly powers — No thanks to them — abideth. 196 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI. The spirit and the gifts are ours Through Him who vvitli us sideth. Let goods and i' c^' '^ ^^/-' * « 1 \ ' C' ^ x> ^ "•J'', A / ^/- ■V .>^ -=> ^0 0"= .^ .^^ ""^ N>\ >A' A. .p ^^ %^n5^.* .Nf> ,0o. %/• .\^ .-^ :V' .^ ,^:. -0^ "•-Cr. .A' aV^ >x^ , » ^ '• ♦ 'o. %■ ^^■ "o O' Ox ., ^j .iS •• -^ v.. >,^ -O C^ ' » ■'■ \ ■ f o^ ^^ , . I. -.^ ^ .•^^•.^