CHAPTER IX.

NEW ACQUAINTANCES.-CAPTAIN LOW.-LIEUTENANT BOWERS.-CAPTAIN O'NEAL.-FAITH AND DESTINY.-THE RAFTSMEN OF JOHNSON'S ISLAND.-THEIR INVENTIVE GENIUS, AND ACCEPTANCE OF EXPEDIENTS.-CAPTAIN HAYDON, OF TENNESSEE.-FOURTH OF JULY IN PRISON.-GENERAL FAIR, MINISTER TO BELGIUM.-MRS. FAIR. -MISS ROSE WYATT.-MRS. BASS, OF LOUISIANA.-J. HUNT STROTHER, OF MISSOURI.-MISCONCEPTION OF CHARACTER.-COLONEL JABEZ SMITH, OF ARKANSAS.-COLONEL CLARK, SIXTH TENNESSEE.-CAPTAIN BLAKE, OF KENTUCKY.-A CHALLENGE HAS FASSED IN PRISON.-A QUIET MAN ON THE CODE DUELLO.-LIEUTENANT D'AUBIGNE.-MRS. COLONEL BRYAN.-ICE-CREAM SALOON. -A SQUAD OF PAROLED PRISONERS. THE FOUR TRAITORS WHO TOOK THE OATH.

IN

N forming new acquaintances, one must remember that first impressions are lasting; that each word, each expression, has its weight, and although lost sight of for the moment, leaves an indellible stamp upon the memories of both. I always refuse an introduction to new acquaintances, unless my mental and physical are in happy unison to produce felicitous effects. This is why nature assumes the tidy or dashy in the fair sex, or the exquisite and ponderous, or the elegant substantials in the males, in their entre into each othei's society, creating favorable impressions, which are so lasting, that future years' slatteringly and slovenly manner and dress fails to eradicate, although it may more or less pall. You must either storm your new acquaintances, by an overwhelming dash of conversational powers, or solemnly measure your words, as if announcing profound ideas, often obscure to yourself, or you must by a certain degree of manvais honte, be an eager listener to the supposed

intellectual pearls, that are dropping from the mouths of your new acquaintances. I dropped into a new set today. I found Captain Low, a modest, intelligent gentleman, full of nerve and resolution. I like him as a new acquaintance very much.

Lieutenant Bowers is a man of much thought, and for his age (twenty-six) developes the facial corduroy of thirty-five. He is a gentleman, and, I am confident, a good officer.

Captain O'Neal, of the Thirty-second Tennessee Regiment, I am much attached to. He is one of your whole souled fresh men, ever ready to do a generous deed, and whose every pulsation and innate promptings are of disinterested politeness and friendship, a genial companion, intelligent officer and good man, full of confidence in his kind. 'Tis a blessed boon to have such a nature, and Captain O'Neal is a happy man.

General Prim, of the Spanish forces, writing from Orizaba, Mexico:

"Inflexible destiny* is stronger than the will of man."

I remember once, as I was wandering over the memorable field of Waterloo, to be impressed with how much of human happiness and human success depend upon faith, and how impossible it is to anticipate a Heavenly future without it. The ancient philosophers, either Bias or Perander, I forget which, said, 'twas hope that was the strongest thing in nature, because it lasted beyond the grave. But I differ; for what is stronger than faith? and what has more buds of promise to the hopeful? I think, they are indissolubly connected, but if there is distinction, I think the inclination is to faith. The farm of Hongmont, the celebrated farm house, occupied as a stragetic point by Wellington, on the field of Waterloo, has two large gardens, separated by a brick wall, the entire grounds being surrounded by a wall of the same material. The buildings were also brick, as well as a chapel, as in Europe, (i. e.) upon the continent, the sur

*Reflections upon the death of that great chieftain, Albert Sidney Johnson, who seemed fated to be cut off before his time. 'Twas his destiny.

*

rounding tenan try have no village church, but attend at the chapel of the estate. This farm was taken and retaken, by the contending hosts, three times. During those fierce encounters the buildings caught fire, and were only extinguished upon reaching the feet of an image of our Savior, which in all Catholic countries is always behind the altar of every chapel. (I saw the image, and with the exception of a little char on its feet, it was not disfigured.) Was this faith, or was it not? These Catholics, in spite of the hew and cry of KnowNothingism, the accusation of dissenters, and the malevolence of many rival sects, have much of the spirit of faith. Their physical peccadilloes do not seem to disturb the channel of their devotion to the church, her glories and her virtues. There may be some discrepencies -there are some in my own church—but I have traveled in Catholic countries, and in all of them I have not seen any more display of the dangers of confessionals, than I have in the private parlors of Protestantism; I have seen no more licentiousness in Catholic courts than in the lobbies of Washington, and seductions and murders are of more frequent occurrence among the Lazzaroni of Italy, than the roughs of the oyster-cellars of the Points; and to-day the only conservative element in the country is Catholic. It was something saved this image. The death-dealing missiles were hurling destruction upon all who attempted to quench the flames, and the chapel was left to be destroyed. The flames raged until they reached the feet of the image of our Savior, and then, “I say,' not "they say," it stopped, and the image stands to-day, as it stood then, untouched. The chapel is visited by all the curious of all nations, and as the field of Waterloo is the Mecca of English travelers, the crowd is numbered by thousands, that pay their annual pilgrimages of worship at the shrine of the allied successes upon this field of blood. Of course, as each man is anxious to carve his name upon some tablet, that may bequeath him by his initials to an admiring posterity, I was anxious to impress

* A Yankee trick to divide the Southern Democracy.

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upon the same, when I was there, at least, how I spelt my name, and was making an effort to place my letters upon the wall, that was literally covered with a thousand, when a gentleman suggested, that his guide had informed him that the wall was whitewashed every spring, to make room for new names. One visitor, who was up to Waterloo tricks, for fear of this process, stole a brick, by picking it out, that Byron wrote his name on. So I declined, and left the field, after purchasing some Waterloo canes, from the forest of Soignes. The relics of bullets and eagles are all manufactured, and I took no interest in them.

Predestination is a belief, this is not a concio ad clerum, but to prisoners, and is not to force my belief, which is strong in foreordination, I look upon destiny as a concomitant of aith, and as in the latter, the inspiration incites, so incitation moulds the subject into such shape as destiny will accept, and the man of faith becomes the child of destiny (paradoxically speaking). Napoleon remarked to the soldier at his side, who dodged from a passing ball, "Mind it not, if it was intended to kill you, it would do it, if you were two hundred yards under ground." The great Emperor was a great believer in destiny, and had perfect faith in his star. The Sun of Austerlitz, in all his glory, was an omen to him of a glorious success, and a harbinger of victory. Richelieu had faith; so had Wolsey. The former's enthusiastic reply to his bearer of dispatches, when questioning his own success, said, "What if I should fail ?" "Fail," said the brilliant cardinal, "In the bright lexicon of youth, that faith reserves for a glorious manhood, there is no such word as fail." This was faith. "I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown," said the heart-crushed Louis. Here was a faith, that looked beyond the present sphere, and hoped for a realm where Revolutions cease to corrupt, and where the thirst for blood, that men's hands were reeking with, would be assuaged, and where Yankee Abolitionists are not known, not even living in Boston, can save them, even under the shadow of their deities, that dirty dog and fanatic, Wen-, dell Phillips, the Negro thief, and slanderer of Southern

*

people, and that old humbug, that keeps the Boston museum. Charlotte Corday was a child of destiny, when she stabbed the heartless Marat. What but belief in their destiny stimulated the Girondits, and made the "mountain"† feast, the day previous to their execution? Washington bore to the savages a charmed life, as they often said they had him in point blank range to their unerring rifles a hundred times. It was destiny, and Washington had faith in it. Faith as a commander, stimulates armies to deeds of valor. The cry of a Richard, the flash of the steel of a Saladdin, were as inspiring as the bold charge of Boabdil el Chico, and the resistless dash of the gay cavaliers of Spain, under the walls of Granada, to their inspired and enthusiastic followers. Mahomet, although accused of charlatanism, had much faith. His calling the mountain to him, was an evidence, and he displayed his good sense, when finding that the mountain would not come to Mahomet, he said, "Mahomet would go to the mountain." In all ages, and among all men, sects and societies, faith has been the motive power, that has given propulsion to the wheels of the energetic world. It is the incentive to study, and action develops each resource of the finite being, and when united to belief in destiny, prepares us to accept the fiat of that Great Being, who arranges the application of both principle to the true believer.

And so raged Sandusky bay, on the night of May the 30th, 1862. The lines above, alluded to the famous bay of Biscay, off the Spanish coast, but they apply with equal force to Sandusky bay, when considering the difference between a full-rigged Queen of the Sea of some

*Kimball, whose entertainments are as flat, as his character is negative.

† Let the Southern people do the same, bide their time, which will surely come, and then, when the South is redivivus, take your true position, as rest assured that the South and West will control the country, but at present you can't make the mountains come to you.