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BY RUFUS DAWES.
The manufactory of arms at this place, was founded Harper's Ferry is situated on the Potomac River, in 1798, and now employs two hundred and sixty work. near its junction with the Shenandoah, and between the men. Eight large brick buildings are devoted to the counties of Jefferson in Virginia, and Frederick in Mary- manufacture, six on the Potomac side, and two on the land, sixty-five miles W. N. W. from the city of Wash-Shenandoah, two miles distant. Two brick structures, ington. It is noticeable as being connected with some
likewise, are devoted to the purposes of an arsenal. The historic recollections, but chiefly as being the location of population of the village is a thousand. a United States' manufactory of arms, and for its remarka
It is an interesting incident connected with the history bly grand and striking scenery. It is in the vicinity of of Harper's Ferry, that it was in crossing at this place, Harper's Ferry that the Potomac forces its turbulent that Washington first met the lady afterwards his wife. passage through the Blue Ridge. “This is, perhaps," says Mr. Jefferson, in his notes on Virginia, “one of the most stupendous scenes in nature. You stand on a very
Original. high point of land. On your right comes up the Shen KORNER'S BATTLE-PRAYER. * andoah, having ranged along the foot of the mountain a hundred miles, to seek a vent. On your left approaches the Potomac, in quest of a passage also. In the moment of their junction, they rush together against the mountain, FATHER, I call to thee! rend it asunder, and pass off together. The first glance || Wrapt in the battle-cloud's bellowing sound, of this scene hurries our senses into the opinion that the Midst volleying lightnings that hurtle around, mountains were formed first-that the rivers began to Leader of battles I call upon thee, flow afterwards—that in this place, particularly, they Father, direct thou me! have been dammed up by the Blue Ridge of mountains, and have formed an ocean which filled the whole valley; Father, direct thou me! that, continuing to rise, they have at length broken over
Lead me to victory, lead me to death! at this spot, and have torn the mountain down from its | Lord, I acknowledge thy sovereign breath; summit to its base. The piles of rock on each hand, but Lord, as thou guidest—so lead thou me, particularly on the Shenandoah, which bear the evident
God, I acknowledge thee ! marks of their disruption and convulsion from their beds by the most powerful agents of nature, corroborate the impres
God, I acknowledge thee! sion. But the distant finishing which nature has given to
Midst the rush of the leaves, when the autumn winds blow, the picture, is of a very different character. It is a true
Alike in the thunder of battle, I know contrast to the foreground. It is placid and delightful, as
The fountain of grace, and I call upon thee; that is wild and tremendous. For the mountain being
Oh, Father, bless thou me! cloven asunder, she presents to your eye through the cleft, a small catch of smooth blue horizon, at an infinite
Oh, Father, bless thou me! distance in the plain country, inviting you, as it were, | My soul I commend to thy guardian sway ; from the riot and tumult roaring around, to pass through | 'Tis thine, for thou gav'st and can'st take it away; the breach, and participate in the calm below. Here
In life or in death, pour thy spirit on me; the eye ultimately composes itself; and that way, too,
Father, I hallow thee! the road happens actually to lead. You cross the Potomac above the junction, pass along its side through the base of the mountain for three miles, its terrible preci- || We fight not for conquest, we fight not for gain;
Father, I hallow thee! pices hanging in fragments over you. This scene is
Our swords are laid bare for the rights we maintain, worth a voyage across the Atlantic." The point of sight in our picture is, fortunately, pro
Thus falling and triumphing, praise be to thee, bably the saine, or nearly so, as that assumed by Mr.
God, I submit to thee! Jefferson ; and the reader can readily apply his animated description to the view as given in our picture. Still
God, I submit to thee! farther to enhance the interest of the scene, on the north When the thunder of war bows my spirit in death, side, after the junction of the two rivers, an impetuous
And my veins force my life-blood away with my breath, torrent dashes and foams over a bed of rocks, that have
My God, still submissive, I bow me to thee
Father, I call to thee! tumbled from the overhanging precipices; and, immediately below, the waters flow in unbroken calmness, forming an impressive contrast.
* From the German VOL. XIII
BY MRS. E. F. ELLET.
the folds of the envious cambric; I stood near her, I A TALE FROM THE GERMAN. hardly removed my gaze from her person. The dance
began. Many fair ones stood up with their partners; the
gave it with winning grace; and we were partners for
Ah-shame shall ever again visit Vienna?
on nature-thus, in cruel caprice, to spoil her choicest I went much into company; I was admitted into domes- work! tic circles. The mothers received me very gracious
It was late when I went home. I was completely ly, and I was smiled upon likewise, by the young ladies; charmed. She was so gentle, so cheerful—so frank and being known to be a bachelor, and belonging to a respecta- unaffected! Surely she knew not that I—that every one, ble house. I was reported as the rich banker, and ad was acquainted with her misfortune. The better for her, dressed universally as Herr von Walter.
I was not enthusiastic enough to fall in love upon the I had never yet thought of marriage, and fluttered, fancy- spot, though well she deserved it. But I confessed that free, from one beauty to another. I drank delight from no woman had ever pleased me so well. My heart was the eyes of all, but knew not what it was to love. moved by a deep sympathy—such an angel well merited
“Mademoiselle de Tarnau is expected also," was the sympathy! remark I heard one evening at an assembly, from an My impressions would probably have worn off very elderly lady near me, to her youthful neighbor.
soon, but the next day on returning from a walk, and as“She is a lovely girl," replied the person addressed; cending the steps of my botel, I met, unexpectedly, Ma"nay—she might be called even beautiful, if she had not demoiselle de Tarnau, with her aunt. As a matter of that terrible defect."
course we exchanged compliments; and surprise was ex“Ah!" said the elder lady—"you mean the mole, pressed on both sides, on learning that we resided beneath which she has on the lower part of her neck! They say the same roof. I was rejoiced to hear of it, and begged it resembles a nouse."
permission to visit the ladies occasionally in their parlor. “A mouse ? Pardon me, dear lady, but if it were I could not help observing, as I glanced at the young nothing worse, she would not find it necessary to muffe lady—that her neck and shoulders were completely conherself so up to the chin. No-no! 'tis a camel with cealed beneath the folds of a large shawl, carefully pintwo ears, a long neck, and four feet."
ned under her chin. But the face was heavenly fair! “You are quite mistaken," observed a third lady,
They went on down the steps; I hastened up to my who joined in the conversation; "I know all about it. chamber, and to the window, to catch a glimpse of her It is a mole simply, but of monstrous size. The whole receding figure. They stepped into a carriage and drove bosom is dark brown, of the color of coffee; and up to off. I sighed, with mingled feelings of admiration and the neck, only imagine! quite up to the neck is covered compassion. with fine white hair!"
It may readily be conceived that I availed myself of “ How shocking!" exclaimed the elder lady.
the permission I had received, and visited the ladies from "Oh, yes !" said one of the younger ones; "if such a time to time. They were, like myself, strangers in misfortune had happened to me"-and she gleamed at Vienna; I accompanied them to the theatre, and other her own lovely bust, shielded by thin ganze, like snow places of amusement. The better I knew the fair Joseby a tender mist, “ I am sure I could not survive it!" phine, so her aunt called her-the more charming qual
Here others took part in the discourse, each confirm- ities I discovered in her. She was more perfectly feminine ing what I had heard, and all expressing the utmost pity than any woman I had ever beheld—alas! nothing is for Mademoiselle de Tarnau. At length the door opened perfect in this world ! and the young lady entered, accompanied by her aunt. As we met daily, there was daily less and less formality Even had not my attention been drawn to her by the between us. I felt, at last, as if I belonged wholly to strange history to which I had been listening-I should them. The aunt treated me with that confidence which have been struck, at first sight, by her extraordinary | a traveller so willingly bestows on a worthy fellow travelbeauty and grace. Suffice to say—she attracted univer- ler. But in Josephine's manner I flattered myself I sal admiration; but it seemed that all looked upon her could discover the dawn of real friendship. If it hapwith a sort of compassion. Her neck was covered ; and pened that I was prevented, by business, from being with that circumstance served to remind every one of the them at the appointed hour, I had to listen to gentle remouse, or of the camel. “How could nature be so cruel,” | proaches, and not unfrequently the fair girl would fix her was every man's thought—"thus frightfully to distigure eyes upon me long in silence, and abstractedly, as if she her most charming creation ?" And, I deny it not, it would look into my heart, then suddenly recover herself, was my thought likewise.
after asking some question not exactly to the point. That evening the fairest neck unveiled its charms in After this I suffered no business to interfere with my vain for me; my thoughts dwell on the deformity of visits, but was punctual to the stroke of the bell. the lovely maiden, my eyes strove lo penetrate through My happiness lasted not long. A letter came to me
from home; my good father was ill from a stroke of By reason of my father's sudden death and my long illapoplexy-he had inquired for me. I had no time to ness, the business of our house had become greatly lose, if I wished to embrace him again in this world. embarrassed. This was fortunate for me, as occupation
The letter came in the morning; in half an hour I was saved me from painful reflection. In time, all was estabready—the stage coach at the hotel door. The servant lished as before; I was at the head of my house. And announced that all was adjusted; I went down in a soon as the mourning was laid asidecame cousins and dream-half frantic with anxiety and sorrow, and about aunts with their matrimonial schemes. I interfered not to part without an adieu from my friends. I was just in their plans, nor troubled myself much with their advice stepping into the coach, when a voice from above called or exertions. Neither aunt, cousin, nor any pledged adto me
vocate of Hymen, could doso much as one pretty maiden “Where are you going?”
at the right time. In our whole town there was no pretty It was the sweet voice of Josephine. I looked up ; maiden-nay, that is a calumny—it was the right time she leaned from the window, and repeated her question that was wanting! I recollected myself; I hastened back into the hotel, and
I now recurred to the past. I felt alone ; felt that I up-stairs ; common courtesy, as well as friendship, re- | needed something to make me happy. My house, since quired this of me. I knocked softly; the door opened. my father's death, had become a desert. Yet among all Josephine, in a simple morning dress, came to meet me; the young ladies of my acquaintance, I could not select one but started suddenly back with surprise and fright.
with whom I should have been willing to share my soli* Heavens !” exclaimed she, “ what is the matter? tude. I know not how it happened, but only like a long What has happened? you are pale and disordered !"
forgotten history did my visit to Vienna, and my acquainIn the emotion with which she spoke, and while she tance with Mademoiselle de Tarnau, rise to my rememstretched forth her hand to meet mine, the cashmere brance. I was in my chamber, as good luck whould have shawl, she had thrown lightly over her shoulders, parted, || it. I sprang from the sofa in the exstasy of my spirit; and revealed to my sight what caused me, for the instant, | I stretched out iny arms, as if to clasp her fair formto forget my journey, and its cause. I had eyes only for and uttered her name, with mixed feelings of sorrow the secret of that veiled bosom. Think what was my and delight—of despondency and ardent love. That astonishment! The lovely neck was bared, white as the was the right time—the magic hour. Josephine was fair driven snow, save the brown mole, which lay on the enough in herself; but my fancy invested her with unswelling alabaster of her breast. But it was neither | earthly charms. Do not laugh, when you learn, that mouse nor camel, but a dark brown spot, of the size and though I had gone to bed in perfect sobriety, I was deepexact shape of a bean.
ly in love the next morning. I gave but one glance, for the fair girl, blushing, quick
My home seemed desolate to me. Every where I ly drew her shawl around her. I could not speak, but sought and seemed to see my beloved. I pictured her as stood, overpowered with various emotions, like a statue my wife, now occupied in some household work, on the before her.
window-seat: now at the piano, while I listened behind “For Heaven's sake!" cried the aunt, “tell us, what her; now breakfasting with me at the little round table. has happened? Has any misfortune befallen you ?"
All her unspeakable grace, her looks, her smiles, her “My father has had a stroke of apoplexy," I answered, bird-like voice, came back to me with increased power. “he is at the point of death-I must leave you!" I was overcome by turns with different feelings ; now I
It was all I could utter. I kissed the ladies' hands, floated in rapture and exulted in dreams of bliss ; now I and took leave. Josephine held my hand a little—a very wept at the thought that Josephine might be lost to me. little moment, clasped in hers. I thought her cheek grew My condition became intolerable. I arranged my busipale, and her eyes suffused. Perhaps it was not so—for
ness, hired post-horses and proceeded forthwith to I saw nothing clearly; all swam like shadows, before Vienna. my sight.
Now and then sober thoughts dissipated my fanciesOnce in the coach, I forgot all but my father's illness. What may not have happened, thought I, in sixteen I travelled day and night; I was in a fever of dread. That months? Perhaps she loves another. Perhaps she is journey was terrible. Only in fleeting dreams, during married. She is not, besides, entirely at liberty; she is my snatches of slumber, had I moment's peace. When young, has parents and relations, who may have their the carriage stopped before my paternal residence, my own views ; again, she is of noble descent. Then I relations came out to meet me, in the apparel of mourn thought of the friendship that had begun betweon us; I ing. All was over. My father's remains were already consoled myself with the remembrance of her pale cheek, committed to the earth.
of her tearful eyes, of the involuntary pressure of her I will not here attempt to paint my grief. I loved my hand at our last adieu. I was fain to draw the inference father, with all his caprices, with true filial tenderness. that I was not indifferent to ber; for I strove against The shock I experienced, and the agitation of my jour- despair. Better death-I thought, than life without her; ney threw me into a violent fever. I forgot every thing. I better delirium and bliss, than sober sense and misery! For three months I lay on a bed of sickness. As I slow
With such feelings I came once more to Vienna. My ly recovered, and the past gradually came to my recollec- search through the city, I have already described to you. tion, like objects through dissolving mists, I was as cold Mademoiselle de Tarnau was nowhere to be found. The and calm as if nothing had ever happened to disturb my hotel was kept by another landlord ; I could gaia from equanimity.
him no information, nor from any of my acquaintances. || paigns there, and he was eagerly listened to-for he narNor was I more successful with letters to Augsburg. rated well.
I was now in despair-and bitterly accused myself. After supper, punch was sent round the table, and the Was it not my fault, that I had been so unpardonably conversation became more earnest and lively. The old negligent, during my first visit to Vienna, as not to inform officer told us of one of his battles—and how he was myself of her family and place of residence? I dreamed wounded in the breast, had fallen from his horse, and not then, indeed, that I should be so deeply in love six- been taken prisoner by the Turks. In the warmth of his teen months afterwards.
relation he tore open his vest to show us the scar; and It but added to my love and my sorrow to see her was observed that on the silken lace be wore a small apartments—where I now took up my quarters. There gold breast pin. He himself took it off—and said, “ the was the same furniture; the same chair on which she || rascals robbed me of every thing: but this—the most prehad sat; the same table at which she had written. All cious of my treasures-I saved." All supposed, of course, the past rose so vividly before me, that I sometimes would that it was a dimond of rare size, or a pearl of extraorstart from my seat at a slight rustling-and look for dinary value, an eastern jewel. “No indeed !" cried the herself or aunt to enter at the door of the little bed cham- colonel "it is none of these;-it is only a bean!" ber. I sought over the rooms for some memorial of her; " A bean?" exclaimed all the company. twenty times examined the walls, from the ceiling to the I know not whether the blood rushed into my face, or floor, in hopes of finding her name, perhaps that of her curdled at my heart; but I could scarcely master my country, among the records of other travellers. But in emotion,
" How comes he,” thought I “by a bean, set vain! Yet, strange enough! the first day I occupied the gold, and worn like mine, in his bosom ?" I would apartments, I found in the drawer of the writing table, fain have asked him, but I was stupified, and could not laugh not! a small shining brown bean. It was to me utter a syllable. I swallowed eagerly a glass of punch a sacred symbol, and found in Josephine's chamber! As to gain strength for the great question. But it was I had now nearly given up the hope of finding my lovely already on the lips of all present. girl, I took the bean, carried it to a jeweller, and had it "I will tell you," said the old officer, as he filled his set in gold, to wear constantly on my breast, as a memo- pipe. “I fear only that the story will not have much rial of the most charming of her sex-and my tragic interest for you. Your pipes, gentlemen!
"I was a cadet in my fifteenth year, a lieutenant in I returned like a widower to my native city. I thought my twentieth ;" continued he. “ At five and twenty I all young ladies intolerable; I buried myself in business; I was far more as a man is, when in love. That I was. I shunned society. Josephine's image swept before me "Our Colonel had a daughter, the loveliest and most continually, like the vision of an angel, and I cherished | accomplished girl in the whole kingdom, and I had a the bean I wore on my breast, as sacredly, as if I had heart, as well as two eyes. The young Countess Von received the jewel from her own hand. The unhappy Obendorf—I preferred to call her by her Christian name, must be allowed his dreams! I persuaded myself at Sophie-for I was, nota bene! no Count! Sophie was length that my fair one had intentionally placed the bean sixteen years old. You may imagine the feelings likely in the drawer. After all-fancy is as good as philoso- to grow up between a youth of twenty-five, and a girl of phy—if it can only make a man happy!
sixteen; they were natural; but the old Colonel, who My friends thought I was growing melancholy and ill. had the eye of a hawk for affairs of the regiment, saw Cousing and aunts presented me with invitations, solici- nothing of them. He liked me much; treated me as a tations and diversions ; physicians were sent to me.
for he had known my parents, who were dead. I would have nothing to do with any of them. But to be would have given the world to become really his son, but rid of my tormentors, and show them that I was like that was not to be hoped for. He was Colonel-1 Lieuother people.--) once or twice in the week went into tenant ; he was a Count-I a Commoner; he was company, at the houses of my friends. One evening, I wealthy-1, poor as possible. accepted the invitation of Counsellor Hildebrand. That “ The Countess Sophie placed not half so much stress was the crisis in my life.
upon title, property and dignity, as the old soldier, her I arrived late; business having detained me. A gen- father, I observed that her manner to me was more tleman in company was introduced to me as a licutenant friendly than to any of the other officers ; that she preColonel in the Russian service, who had lately purchased ferred my society; that in summer she accompanied me a country seat in the vicinity of our town. I saluted him most willingly in garden walks, and in winter, chose me with distant civility, and took my seat,
The conver as her companion in sleighing excursions. I could not sation was lively, but I had no inclination to take part in it. indeed infer thence that she loved me; but I knew too
The Russian Colonel drew my attention. He was a well, that I loved, adored, idolized her. Often I wished tall, powerful man, of very commanding appearance, ap to fall at her feet and avow my passion, but, Heaven parently upwards of sixty-but full of the fire of youth. knows, I have since, I know not how many times, met He had a few scars and seams on his forehead and cheeks; the enemy's charge at the head of my regiment, with and wore the badge of an order in his button hole. His more courage than I could take one step towards the voice was deep and stern; his whole exterior proclaimed lovely Sophie. But I will not tire you by a history of the commanding officer. The discourse was now of my internal struggles. Persia, now of Moldavia; the colonel bad been in cam "Qne evening I had to carry a report to my lord tho
Colonel. He was not at home; that was no great mis “With that he turned him round, and strode from the fortune, for the Countess Sophie sat alone in the parlor, chamber. I confess I thought it strange that he should and I was permitted to await the return of her father. allow us even another minute's conversation ; but so it
"I was strangely embarrassed. When we met in The young Countess stood in the middle of the large companies, we could chat and talk endlessly; but room, her head sunk on her bosom, her hands clasped here, alone, we knew not what to say to each other. I and hanging down, like a statue. know not, gentlemen, if it has ever thus happened to any Sophie!' I exclaimed, and hastening to her, clasped
her in my arms, and pressed her passsionately to my " Before the young Countess stood a table; and on heart; 'Sophie! I lose you for ever!' the table, between the wax candles, a draught-board. “No! she replied, with firmness; not for ever. There were also white and dark-colored beans, with So long as I breathe, your image will live in my heart.' which to play the game. At a pause-by no means a
And this she said in a tone that pierced my very soul. tedious however, in our conversation, the Countess . Am I dear to you, Sophie ?' I softly asked; and invited me to play. She gave me the dark beans, and my lips pressed her rosy mouth. She said not yes-nor took the white, preferring the color of innocence. We no—but returned my caress; I felt, at that moment, as played at merils; her mill was constantly full. This if one of the seraphim. Her sobs recalled me to congave occasion for a little contention; and I was glad to sciousness. "Sophie !' I cried again, sinking at her dispute with her, for, in our wrangling, I could say much feet,“ hear me swear to belong to you alone, as long as I would never have dared to say in quiet conversation. I breathe, and wherever fate may send me!' “Our embarrassment was removed; we chatted freely
There was a death-like silence; our souls joined in as in the midst of company. Sophie had wit and spirit; | the vow. Suddenly some thing dropped from the folds she laughed, bantered me, and provoked me to repartee. of her kerchief to the ground. It was the unfortunate In sport, I took up one of my brown beans, and threw it bean—the occasion of all our sorrow.
I took it, arose, at her with a roguish laugh. My missive threatened her and held it towards Sophie, saying, “ This is the work nose, but throwing back her pretty head, she avoided it, of Providence. I will keep it as a memorial of this and it fell-ah, me! through the folds of her handker- evening.' chief into her bosom. How fortunate it was not an The lovely girl threw herself into my arms; her eyes arrow!
shone through her tears. “Yes, it is a Providence !" “ I was frightened, and felt my cheeks glow. Sophie she whispered, and disengaging herself from my embrace, also became crimson, and looked gravely on the floor. || she left the room. It was no time for jest. She was silent-I could not * Early the next morning she set out on her journey. speak. I feared she was angry with me; I glanced The Colonel treated me at the parade with contemptslyly at her; she returned me a very grave look: I could uous coolness. I obtained my dismissal, and went away bear no more. I started up; I fell on my knees before -whither, it was matter of indifference to me. Some her, pressed her hand to my lips, and besought forgive- friends gave me letters to Petersburg, and provided me
She answered not a syllable, but she suffered me with sufficient to bear my expenses. I went to the rude to retain her hand.
north. Sophie, I felt, was lost to me; I had nothing Oh, Countess-oh, dearest Sophie,' I cried, be more of her than sad remembrance-and the fateful bean. not offended with me! I should die if I lost your This I had set in gold at Konningsberg, and have now esteem. I live only for you—only through you. Life worn it for two and forty years. is worthless without you. You are my soul-my heaven “I soon obtained a higher post. I cared not for life,
so easily earned the reputation of bravery. I fought in “The rest is soon told. I spoke with tears in my eyes, Asia and Europe, and gained much spoil and honor, and and she wept while she listened. I implored an answer many dignities-whatever was most pleasing to a soldier, from her, yet allowed her no time to answer. And, nota | At the end of twenty odd years I was a colonel. I had bene! my lord the Colonel stood three steps distant grown old; the history of my youth was as a forgotten from us in the apartment, having entered without being tale. Yet I still cherished the bean. When taken heard or seen, either by Sophie or myself. He must prisoner at the battle of Kinburn, by the Janizaries—that have glided in like a ghost. Heaven rest his soul! be was a hot day—and the Prince of Massau made good is now in Paradise.
his cause! they plundered me of every thing—but dis“His terrible voice startled us like a burst oft hunder, li covered not my sacred relic. I was near dying; exhausas he poured forth upon us a whole volley of regiment ted by wounds, and dragged about two days by the Infioaths. I sprang up and stood before him ; Sophie lost dels. But, pursued by our cavalry, they at length left not her presence of mind. We attempted to pacify him, me half dead on the field, wbere my people found me. but he would not suffer us to speak.
I went to Lazareth, and, in order fully to re-establish •Silence !' cried he, with as stern an emphasis as if myself, had to return, at the head of my transports, to he had stood between two regiments of cavalry, instead Moscow. Quiet recovered me. Life began again to of two trembling culprits. “You, Sophie, leave here have charms for me. After twenty year's service, and to-morrow morning. You, Mr. Lieutenant, apply for so many honorable wounds, I could reasonably hope for your dismissal, and quit the Province immediately; you an honorable dismissal. I received it, with a pension. stay at the peril of your life!'
But I was restless. Moscow is a fair city--but rather