THE TO MARY IN HEAVEN. WITH AN ENGRAVING. THIS celebrated poem was, it is on all hands admitted, composed by Burns in September, 1789, on the anniversary of the day on which he heard of the death of his early love, Mary Campbell; but Mr. Cromek has thought fit to dress up the story with circumstances which did not occur. Mrs. Burns, the only person who could appeal to personal recollection on this occasion, and whose recollections of all circumstances connected with the history of her husband's poems, are represented as being remarkably distinct and vivid, gives what may at first appear a more prosaic edition of the history. According to her, Burns spent that day, though laboring under cold, in the usual work of his harvest, and apparently in excellent spirits. But as twilight deepened, he appeared to grow "very sad about something," and wandered out into the barnyard, to which his wife, in her anxiety for his health, followed him, entreating him, in vain, to observe that the frost had set in, and to return to the fire-side. On being again and again requested to do so, he always promised compliance; but still remained where he was, striding up and down slowly, and contemplating the sky, which was singularly clear and starry. At last Mrs. Burns found him stretched on a mass of straw, with his eyes fixed on a beautiful planet, that "shone like another moon;" and prevailed on him to come in. He immediately on entering the house, called for his desk, and wrote exactly as they now stand, with all the ease of one copying from memory, those sublime and pathetic verses.-Lockhart's Life of Burns. TO MARY IN HEAVEN. THOU lingering star, with less'ning ray, My Mary from my soul was torn. ROVER. Time but the impression deeper makes, O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour can I forget? Can I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met To live one day of parting love? Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past; Thy image at our last embrace; Ah! little thought we 'twas our last! Ayr gurgling kissed his pebbly shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning, green; The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar, Twined amorous round the raptured scene. The flowers sprang wanton to be prest, The birds sang love on every spray, Till too, too soon the glowing west Proclaimed the speed of parting day. Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes, And fondly broods with miser care! VOL. II.-No. 26. My Mary, dear departed shade! THE BRIDE OF THE BRANDYWINE. A TALE OF THE REVOLUTION. BY PAYNE KENYON KILBOURN. THE battle which was fought at Chad's Ford, on the banks of the Brandywine, September 11th, 1777, was in many respects one of the most important engagements that occurred during the revolutionary struggle. In no other battle were there so many distinguished and experienced general officers of the opposing armies actively engaged in the fight-and on few if any fields of strife, were there so many who were numbered among the killed and wounded. Among the republican commanders who were present, were Washington, Greene, Sullivan, La Fayette, Sterling, Wayne, Stephens, Smallwood, Pulaski, and others; while among those who led on the British and Hessian forces, were Howe, Knyphausen, Cornwallis, Grey, and many other brave generals, whose military renown had preceded their arrival on our shores. The consternation which filled the minds of the colonists of the adjacent country, as the news of the disastrous termination of the battle was spread abroad, can only be conceived by those who have been placed in like circumstances of imminent peril; and the general dismay was heightened by the frequent incursions of foraging parties, which were subsequently sent out from the main body of the victorious army, for the avowed purpose of spoil and plunder. It is not strange, therefore, that the inhabitants of those parts of Pennsylvania and Delaware which lie contiguous to the Battle Ground, should regard it with feelings of peculiar interest, and continue to cherish in their recollections the history of that dark and gloomy period which preceded and followed the battle. It was during my sojourn in the State of Delaware, and in the midst of the exciting political campaign which terminated in the election of President Harrison, that a convention, or "mass meeting," as it was termed, was announced by the friends of one of the candidates for the Presidency, to be holden at Chad's Ford, on the 11th of Sept., the 63d anniversary of the battle. I had long felt an earnest desire to visit the scene of that memorable struggle; and that desire was strengthened by the recollection of many a tale of thrilling interest to which I had listened in my early years, from one who had himself been a sharer in its conflict and perils. As the "glorious Eleventh" approached, the popular excitement grew more and more intense-the din of preparation to attend the convention continued to increase-and the proposed meeting became the general topic of conversation among all classes and conditions of men. Among the preliminaries, were almost necessarily sage debates and angry controversies. That the specific and general object of the meeting was, to advance the interests of a THE BRIDE OF THE BRANDYWINE. favorite candidate for the Presidency, admitted of no which he resides, and whose fame is as broad as the dispute; but the day and place of meeting were made republic, had commenced an address. He spoke with the fruitful theme of comment, and not unfrequently deep and earnest feeling of the hallowed spot upon led to bitter and long continued heart-burnings be- which we had assembled. The atmosphere around us tween opposing partizans. On one side, it was con- had once been darkened by the smoke and hail of battended that the object of assembling on the field con- tle; the soil beneath our feet had been made red with secrated by patriot-blood, on the anniversary of the the blood of patriots; ay, we were treading above the battle, was to commemorate the martyr-spirit which dust of kindred hearts who had freely poured out their their fathers manifested in the cause of liberty during life-tide in defence of their country. And this is the that dark hour of the Revolution; while, on the other price our fathers paid for the liberties we are now enhand, it was urged with equal zeal, and perhaps with joying. The orator as he proceeded seemed to rise equal sincerity, that they were to celebrate the victory with his theme; his manner became more impassionof Lord Howe, and the defeat of the American arms! ed, his language grew more and more fervid, until the But notwithstanding these disputes, the bustle of eyes of stern manhood moistened, and cold and frigid preparation still went on; and by the time the event-hearts were melted beneath his burning eloquence. ful day arrived, every thing in the shape of a vehicle Seated not far from the speaker, I had from the first was in requisition. As several eminent statesmen noticed some fifteen or twenty venerable men, whose and orators from a distance were expected to be pre-appearance seemed to indicate that they had all of sent, and participate in the exercises of the conven- them long since passed the age usually allotted to our tion, very many of the opposite party, and some too race. These, I subsequently learned, were survivors who were among the most earnest in denouncing its of the Battle of the Brandywine! Just sixty-three unpatriotic designs, were early on their way to the years ago, on that day, they had met on that very "Battle Ground." Many who had failed in procuring ground-in the flush of early manhood-surrounded conveyances, or who were moved by pecuniary con- by a hostile and implacable foe; and now when the siderations, performed the journey on foot. Amidst palsy of age was upon them, and long after most of all this excitement, it can hardly be supposed that I their compatriots had passed to the land of spirits, they should remain entirely uninfected by the prevailing en- had met again! But how wide was the contrast bethusiasm. The scenes and events which had been tween their first and last meeting! The hardships like a picture of romance on my fancy from childhood, and dangers of war were over; friends were about seemed to pass before me in real and life-like forms. them; they had come up from their pleasant homes, Curiosity invited-circumstances seemed to favor my with their children and their children's children-not inclination-and I resolved to follow the current. In to join in the shout of "God save the King"—but to company with a friend who was perfectly familiar with swell the paan to Liberty. One of these aged men, in the localities of the place, and the history of the battle, particular, attracted my attention. His high, manly I set my face toward the point of attraction. The brow-his tall and dignified figure-his flashing eye, "mass" had already assembled and the speaking com- and hoary locks, bespoke a man of no ordinary chamenced when we reached our destination. Enquiring racter. He sat bending forward, leaning upon his the name of the speaker, and ascertaining that he was staff, and looking earnestly at the speaker, as if intent one whose fame had not previously reached us, we on catching every word that fell from his lips. With turned aside from the dense "forest of human heads," too much of manliness to weep, he was yet occasionand took a ramble over the suburbs of the battle-field. ally compelled to hide his face for a moment that he The rise of ground to the left of us, was pointed out might veil or stifle his rising emotions, or, perhaps, by my friend as the point on which Washington was that he might brush back the intruding tear. On instationed, overlooking the fight and directing the points quiry, I learned that he had been an officer of rank of attack-near that half-decayed tree Lafayette re- and merit through the greater part of the war of indeceived his wound, and a little farther on, the brave De pendence: that his life had been a peculiarly eventful Flury had his horse shot from beneath him--a few one; and that although he was verging upon ninety rods to the south of us the gallant Robinson and his years of age, he yet retained a vivid recollection of the comrades crossed the Brandywine, on their desperate scenes and occurrences of his long career of honor and and fatal errand-there, Lord Howe and suite were usefulness. I expressed a wish to learn more of his stationed in the early part of the engagement-and history, and if possible to obtain an interview with here were drawn up the lines of British cavalry. My him. As we had concluded to stop for the night in thoughts were busy with the past, and for a time I for- the neighborhood, my companion readily offered to got the great assembly and the eloquent men who had accompany me to his residence on the following day. met to address them. Nearly two hours were thas The morning of the 12th of September dawned glospent in visiting the interesting localities in the vicini-riously, and at an early hour we were at the door of ty, and reviewing the incidents of the battle, when the dwelling of the venerable Major Gifford. He rethe simultaneous shouts of the thousands who were ceived us with all the politeness and cordiality so pegathered a short distance from us, indicated that a culiar to gentlemen of the old school. We remained new and probably some favorite speaker had taken the for several hours, during which time he related many stand. thrilling adventures and mavelous escapes of himself and comrades. But it is not, now, our intention to give them publicity; but simply to refer to the history of the Major and his family as connected with a tale which at the time, deeply interested and affected uspart of which we received from his own lips, and the remainder from an aged matron still living in the vicinity. 402 Accordingly, we joined the multitude, and by dint of much pushing and an extra sh re of perseverance, we at length succeeded in gaining an "eligible position" near the staging erected for the accommodation of the officers of the meeting and the speakers. An orator from the sunny South, whose name has long been a talisman to his political friends in the state in THE BRIDE OF THE BRANDYWINE. Previous to the breaking out of the war, he had resided with his parents and an only sister, near the foot of the "Iron Mountain," as it is called, a blue range of hills which bounds the southern, or rather the south western horizon. There, in the quiet old homestead of his ancestors, he had spent the morning of his life in an uninterrupted flow of social and intellectual enjoyment. In his "sweet sister Mary," as he was wont to call her, he found abundant society; it was their mutual delight to accompany each other, alike in their morning studies and in their afternoon rambles. He watched with pride and pleasure, the developement of her intellectual and personal charms; and well he might be proud to claim kindred and companionship with such a being. She was gay, beautiful, intelligent, and affectionate-with a young spirit filled with the bright, romantic visions of youth and inexperience. 403 her troubled spirit, by urging the necessity of immediate action-the glory they might achieve for themselves-and above all, the blessing which would follow to the country and posterity, by the establishment of the independence of the colonies. She felt the force of their arguments-she honored them for their bravery and patriotism-but how could she yield up the dearest objects of her love without a struggle? But the day of parting came. The aged father and mother, with almost bursting hearts, gave them the blessing, and commended them to the protection of the God of armies-the lovers renewed their solemn vows-the son and brother gave and reccived the farewell kissand the two young soldiers went forth to join their countrymen in the great struggle for freedom. It will be unnecessary to follow them in all the tedious marches and perilous battles through which they passed. Suffice it to say, that, though they were often widely separated, they still, through months of danger and duty, maintained, unaltered, their love for each other and for their country. Their intrepidity and heroism early attracted the attention and won the admiration of their officers, and during the first year of their military life, they were both promoted to stations of responsibility and honor. Among the most frequent at the festive board and in the social circle of this happy family, was Frank Middleton, the acknowledged and accepted suitor of Mary. He was, withal, the intimate and confidential friend of George Gifford; and though the latter sometimes inwardly felt that he occupied a larger share of her time and thoughts than his own selfish heart would lead him to desire, still he was far from being jealous of his rival. From a long and uninterrupted intimacy, he As may well be supposed, during their absence the had learned to love him for his affectionate and conge- minds of Mary and her parents were kept in a state of nial spirit, and to honor him for his commanding ta- continual suspense and anxiety-not only on account lents and many noble virtues. He could not but see of the loved ones who were absent, but not unfrethat the two fond hearts were devotedly attached quently for their own safety. Reports of the ravages to each other; he saw, too, that the mysterious ties and murders of marauding parties in the adjoining which united them were daily becoming stronger and counties, were often rife in the neighborhood, and stronger. He even fancied that he now discovered a were the cause of much alarm-especially as that porshade of sadness on the countenance of Mary in the tion of the country was often left entirely defenceless absence of her lover, and sometimes took occasion, by the absence of a large part of its efficient and ablelaughingly, to rally her on the cause of her moodiness bodied men. And subsequent events proved that the -when she would suddenly awake from her apparent fears which had been entertained were by no means reverie, and, by the sprightliness of her conversation, groundless. In August, 1776, the town in which they and by the brightness of her smiles, banish all thoughts lived was thrown into consternation by the rumor that of gloom from herself and those around her. Months a band of more than two hundred British, Indians and glided away, during which George was much of the tories, had actually entered the lower part of the town, time absent from home, prosecuting his studies at a and were pillaging and destroying whatever came in literary institution of a distant colony. The lovers their way; and in an hour or two, the throng of people now met more frequently than usual, and scarcely an (most of them women and children) flying before the afternoon was permitted to pass, without their accus-advancing foe, attested the truth of the dreadful rumor. tomed ramble to some favorite retreat amidst the wild Mr. Gifford, becoming convinced of the certain danger and picturesque scenery by which they were surroun- of remaining where he was, deemed it advisable to ded. They had already begun to look forward with desert the old homestead, and he determined upon bright and glowing anticipations to the time when their seeking refuge with a brother who resided in the northhands should be united at the altar, as their hearts had ern part of Delaware. Harnessing his horse, and long been by the bonds and vows of affection. hastily packing up some articles of clothing and a few But the clarion of war sounded. The neighboring necessaries for the journey, with what money he had colonies had already leagued together with the design laid up, he took his wife and daughter with him into of freeing themselves from the yoke of British oppres- the wagon, and fled with his neighbors. As he prosion. A foreign enemy had landed upon our shores, ceeded he found the whole country, through which he and our country called for brave hearts and willing passed in a state of panic and consequent confusion. hands to repel he invaders. The fire of the revolu Reaching Wilmington late at night, and not knowing tion was already burning in the breasts of Frank Mid- whether he was surrounded by friends or foes, himself dleton and George Gifford, and after mutual consulta- and family, with several refugees who had preceded tion, they resolved to join the army, and their deter- him, took shelter in the "Old Swedes' Church," which mination soon became known to the family and the was even then regarded as a relic of olden time, and neighborhood. At first, the report came like a shock which still stands in the suburbs of the city, bearing to the confiding, affectionate Mary. The thought that upon the outer walls of its porch, in long, antique, iron her affianced suitor and her only brother must both be figures, the date of its erection, 1698. The next mornexposed to the privations, hardships, and dangers of ing he proceeded to the residence of his brother, where war, almost overcame her, and she gave vent to her they were received with affectionate cordiality, and anguish in a gush of bitter and fast-flowing tears. where they found a comfortable home until the ensuThey each of them assiduously endeavored to calming spring. But alas! on the night of their departure, 404 THE BRIDE OF THE BRANDYWINE. the home they left behind them, with all the out-buildings, was burned to the ground. Mary, in particular, wept over its destruction; it was the place of her nativity-the home of her infancy and childhood-and had since been rendered doubly dear by a thousand tender and cherished recollections. Through the assistance of friends, and with the aid of the money he had saved, he was enabled to procure for himself and family a new home, in a delightful and secluded valley on the banks of the Brandywine, where they were once more happy in the enjoyment of comparative peace and tranquility. The country around them was no longer disturbed by rumors of immediate danger; and there, at length, they had the unspeakable pleasure of receiving to their embraces their loved and long absent friends. The lost ones returned-not indeed to meet around the old familiar hearthstonebut to the warm greetings of unchanged hearts, and the cordial pressure of hands moved by the purest impulses of affection. Much of the time during their absence, Frank and George had been in different companies and sometimes in different regiments, and therefore had seldom met. They had both been honored with lieutenants' commissions from the hands of the commander-in-chief; and each now hastened to congratulate the other on his safety and success, while the aged parents regarded with evident satisfaction and pride, the rising fame of their sons. The order was imperative, and admitted of no delay. The consternation produced on the minds of all present, by the unexpected tidings, caused them to forget for a time the object of their convening, and most of them hasted to their own homes without even the formalities of parting. The horses of the lieutenants were ordered; a few hurried farewells were spoken, with promises to return as soon as their duties would permit; and in a few minutes they were on their way to join their companions in arms. But who shall describe the heart-breaking anguish of the devoted Mary, when the unnatural excitement of the moment was over, and she had leisure to reflect on the terrible danger to which the absent ones would be exposed. Parents, and daughter, and sympathizing friends, freely commingled their tears; and, with their sorrows, were blended fearful apprehensions that they themselves might be again rendered homeless, and their lives become jeopardized, by the enemy, should they prove to be the conquerors in the anticipated battle. Not long after the departure of the officers, the clergyman arrived without having previously heard the intelligence which had rendered his services for the present unnecessary. His appearance seemed to have been the first circumstance that fully aroused Mary to a consciousness of the truth; as he entered, the sad reality flashed upon her mind with the suddenness of an electric shock, and she gave vent to her agony in loud and bitter lamentations. In vain her friends endeavored to console her with the probability that her lover would return to her at evening; she wept until the fountain of her tears seemed to be dried up. Through all that eventful day, she could distinctly hear the roar of the cannon and musketry of the opposing armies, and this was by no means calculated to quiet her fears or assuage her grief. The two lieutenants had obtained leave of absence, until some further movement of the enemy should render their services again necessary; and the probability was that several weeks and perhaps months would elapse before their furlough would terminate. The love-making rambles were renewed, and surely no more delightful spot could have been selected or desired for such a purpose, than was presented in the sylvan and romantic paths along the borders of the stream About four o'clock in the afternoon the firing ceased, which murmured its wild music at the foot of the gar- and several horsemen were shortly after seen hurrying den, and but a few rods from their rural dwelling. along the road, as if flying from the foe. As they passThree weeks had thus glided away like a dream of en-ed many eager inquiries were made respecting the chantment to the young lovers, and the scenes around result of the fight; and from them it was learned that them had become if possible even dearer than those the American army were defeated-several of their they had left by the Iron Mountains. The day ap-number killed-others taken prisoners, and the repointed for the celebration of their nuptials had come, mainder had fled in every direction! and the invited guests began to arrive. Ample provisions had been made for the reception and entertainment of friends; the bride and bridegroom were in readiness; and all were now anxiously waiting for the arrival of the clergyman who was to perform the solemn ceremony; when lo!a mounted messenger, in the garb of a subaltern, rode furiously up to the door, and demanded the immediate presence of Lieutenants Middleton and Gifford. His face was flushed with excitement, and his horse bore evidences of the speed with which he had performed his journey. The gay assemblage was thrown into confusion by the suddenness of his approach and the abruptness of his manner. The officers presented themselves, and desired to know his mission; without making any reply, he handed them the following note, and wheeling his horse, he galloped away in the direction from which he came. "Head Quarters, Sept'r. 11th. J. ARMSTRONG, Gen'l &c., But we need not follow the painful details farther. It is sufficient for the reader to know, that Lieutenant Middleton died on that day, bravely fighting for the liberties of his country. His remains were taken from the field on the succeeding morning, and conveyed to the residence of Mr. Gifford. Mary exchanged her bridal-robes for the habiliments of mourning; the guests of the preceding day were invited to the funeral of him who was to have been the bridegroom; and the minister who was to have performed the marriage ceremony, was called upon to attend his burial rites. At the request of Mary, his grave was made beneath the spreading branches of a cedar, upon he little mound not far from her cottage, which had been their favorite trysting-place during the few preceding weeks. She lived for many years, in a state of widowhood, blessing all around her by her offices of mercy and charity, yet steadily resisting every offer to change her situation in life. She continued to cherish the memory of her "first love," to the last; and now she sleeps by his side-their bridal couch, the grave! Two substantial head-stones mark the place of their repose, on the oldest of which is carved this inscription: |