on the battle-field of Sedan, two days after the surrender of Napoleon III. come. We then dispatched one of the former to reconnoitre, and discovered at a half a mile's distance, at Fresnois, a small chateau in a park. Thither I accompanied the Emperor with an escort of life cuirassiers, sent for in the meanwhile; and there we concluded with Commanding General Wimpffen the capitulation, in consequence of which from forty to sixty thousand Frenchmen, with all their baggage, became our prisoners. Yesterday and the previous day have cost France a hundred thousand men and an Emperor. Early this morning the latter, with all his attendants, horses and carriages, started for Wilhelmshöhe, near Cassel. "It is an historical event, a victory, for which we most humbly thank God, and which determines the war, though we must continue it against the country now without a ruler. "I must conclude. With heartfelt joy I learnt from your and Mary's letters Herbert's arrival with you. As my telegram has told you, I saw Bill (his son) yesterday and embraced him in his Majesty's presence, bending down from my horse, whilst he stood stiff in the ranks. He is well and full of spirits. "Farewell, my heart." Yours, etc." VENDRESSE, 3 Septr., 1870. "Dear Heart: The day before yesterday before dawn I left my quarters here, returned to-day, and have in the interim witnessed the great battle of Sedan, in which we made about thirty thousand prisoners, and threw the rest of the French army-we had been pursuing from Bar le Duc-into the fortress, where, with the Emperor, they were obliged to surrender. At 5 o'clock yesterday morning, after having till 1 o'clock discussed with Moltke and the French generals the terms of the capitulation, I was awakened by General Reille, whom I know, to tell me that Napoleon wished to see me. Unwashed and without breakfast I rode toward Sedan, and found the Emperor in an open carriage with three aides-de camp, and three on horseback, on the highway this side of Sedan. I dismounted, saluted him as politely as at the Tuileries, and asked what were his commands. He desired to see the King. I informed him, in accordance with the truth, that his Majesty had his quarters three miles off, at the place where I am now writing. To Napoleon's questions where he was to go, I offered him, as I did not know the neighborhood, my quarters at Donchery, a small place close to Sedan. He accepted the offer; and rode, accompanied by the six Frenchmen, by me and Charles, who in the meantime had followed me through the solitary morning hours, toward our side. Before arriving at Donchery he regretted his decision, on account of the crowd that might be expected, and asked whether he might alight at a lonely workman's cottage by the roadside. I told Charles to inspect it, who reported that it was poor and dirty. N'importe, said Napoleon; and we ascended a narrow rickety staircase. We sat an hour in a chamber ten feet square, with a deal table I have the original of this Will now and two rush-bottomed chairs; the before me. For your information I send others were below. A mighty contrast you a correct copy of the clause you alto our last interview, in '67, in the Tui-luded to. The Will is dated 1782. leries. Our conversation was difficult, And admitted to record by the County if I was not to touch on things which Court of Berkley County, 15th April, should painfully affect the man so terri- 1783. The paper has become yellow bly cast down by God's powerful hand. from age, partly broken from being I had sent Charles to fetch officers from folded, the writing perfectly clear and the town, and to request Moltke to distinct. The signature of the deceased 66 The Original of Gen. Lee's Will. (A reader of the Guardian of Martinsburg, Berkley County, West Va, kindly sends us the following letter. His official position gives him access to the Public Archives. We thank him for his interesting communication, and should be very glad to hear from him often, on this or any other subject.— Ed. Guardian.) DEAR SIR: In your Washingtoniana in the May Number of the Guardian, I notice an allusion to Major Gen. Charles Lee, and what purports to be an extract from his Will to show his peculiar views. would go far to establish the theory of character reading, by the signature. The letters are very irregular, with an occasional tendency to dash. Yet sufficiently well formed to determine the Jetter intended to be written. A person of antiquarian tastes could spend an hour in this office very pleasantly, and find much to recall the past. I have many commissions signed by Lord Dunmore, as well as Commissions signed by every Governor of Va., in regular succession, commencing with Patrick Henry, who was the first Governor until the Constitution was changed, which made the Magistracy and other officers elective by the people-several deeds signed by Washington, &c., &c. The following is an extract from the Lee Will. "I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any Church or Churchyard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist Meeting-house. For since I have resided in this County I have kept so much bad company when living, that I do not chuse to continue it when dead. I reccommend my soul to the Creator of all worlds, and all creatures, who must from His visible attributes, be indifferent to their modes of worship, whether Christians, Mohamedans or Jews, whether installed by education or taken up by reflection. Whether more or less absurd. As a weak mortal can no more be answerable for his persuasions, notions, or even Scepticism in Religion than for the colour of his Skin." His instructions regarding his burial were not observed, as his body was placed in a Churchyard in Philadelphia. The house that General Lee occupied is yet standing. It is in Jefferson County, about twelve miles from the town, and a few miles from Smithfield, (the Pumbadithus of Dr. Davis' Young Parson). A straggling village has slowly grown near the Lee house, and has for many years been known as Leetown. The building itself is characteristic of its eccentric owner. It is a long, low house, one and one half stories high. When occupied by General Lee, the entire interior was one room, with imaginary divisions. One portion he regarded as his kitchen and kennel, which was occupied by his servants and hounds. The adjoining space was his dining-room, and the remainder was used as his chamber. There is a wellauthenticated tradition that Washington was earnestly desirous to reconcile the feeling of antipathy that Lee had steadily evinced toward him. After the expiration of his official term, and on his retirement to Mount Vernon, he notified General Lee that on a named day he would dine with him at Leetown. The feeling of hatred yet lived in the old man. On the morning of the day of the proposed visit, General Lee gathered his hounds and started from home. Washington, ever punctual, on arriving at the house, found it closed, and on the door was written, "No bread or bacon cooked here to-day." The two officers never met afterwards, and the estrangement was never removed. A Summer Evening. (FROM HEBEL'S ALLEMANIAN POEMS). TRANSLATED BY C. Z. WEISER, D. D. See, how the sun lags on his way! Thence many a bee got nectar-store, more!" The little bug, though last and least, All this he wrought. And everywhere At morn it's grass-by evening, hay! She lingers long-what keeps her there? Come, Madam! He has gone away; Willie Sherman, The Boy Sergeant. BY THE EDITOR. When the Greeks captured Troy, they allowed every Trojan to bear out from his home such treasures as he valued mostly, before they fell to plundering the city. It is said that the brave Eneas marched out first, carrying the images of his household gods. The Greeks wondered at the piety of a man, who would not try to save his silver and gold rather than his gods. In their admiration for his piety, they permitted him to bring a second burden out of the city. He came carrying his old father Anchises on his back, and leading his little boy by the hand. This astonished the Greeks still more, and they ordered that Æneas should be secured in his person and property; that no soldier should hurt a man who was so religious. It is true, his gods were idols, the workmanship of men. But the poor man knew not the true God. It was the only religion he knew. And this was to him dearer than anything else. First he looked after his gods, then after his father and child. This is a dim heathen prophecy of what the Gospel requires of us. First we must seek the Kingdom of God. God must we love more than father, mother or child. Next to Him comes the love of kindred-the tender grateful care of aged parents, the love for one's children. What cared Æneas for all other precious things at home-for costly apparel, gold, silver and precious stones, compared with his aged father and little boy. Warriors are often considered harsh and hard-hearted. Their habits and profession, it is thought, divest them of the more gentle and humane feelings of our nature. The most of them are without a fixed home. Separated from their families they lose the relish for home-joys. Scenes of blood and the hardships of army life steel their hearts against the gentler ties of home and kindred. Thus some erroneously reason. During our civil war, in 1863, Gen. Sherman was busily engaged with his army along the Mississippi river. For a month or two in midsummer there was a lull in the fierce conflict. His heart was sick to see his family. Mrs. Sherman and the four children living in Ohio paid him a visit in his camp near Vicksburg. One of the children, Willie, was nine years old. He was a very bright boy, and soon became a great favorite with the soldiers. His father says: "He used to ride with me on horseback in the numerous drills and reviews of the time. He then had the promise of as long a life as any of my children, and displayed more interest in the war than any of them. He was called a sergeant in the regular battalion, learned the manual of arms, and regularly attended the parade and guard mounting of the Thirteenth, back of my camp." At length, Sherman's army moved on to Chattanooga. He and his family took passage on a steamer. When the boat was ready to start, they missed Willie, who just then came running down to the with more confidence than I did in my own wharf with a small double-barrelled shot plan of life, now floats a mere corpse, seeking gun. His father teased him for carrying a grave in a distant land, with a weeping away captured property. Soon after mother, brother and sisters clustered about the boat had started, the boy was taken on I must go to meet a soldier's fate, or live him. For myself, I ask no sympathy. On, ill with typhoid fever. At Memphis, to see our country rise superior to all factions, they carried him to a hotel. Despite till its flag is adored and respected by ourthe best medical skill Willie died. Gen. selves and by all the powers of the earth. Sherman says: "The blow was a terri- But Willie was, or thought he was, a serble one to us all, so sudden and so un-geant in the Thirteenth. I have seen his eye expected, that I could not help reproach-brighten, his heart beat as he beheld the Bating myself for having consented to his were not real soldiers. Child as he was, he talion under arms, and asked me if they visit in that sickly region in summer had the enthusiasm, the pure love of truth, time. Of all my children he seemed the honor, and love of country, which should most precious. Born in San Francisco, annimate all soldiers. I had watched with intense interest his developments, and he seemed more than any of the children to take an interest in my special profession. Mrs. Sherman, Minnie, Lizzie and Tom were with him at the time, and we all, helpless and overwhelmed, saw him die. Being in the very midst of an important military enterprise, I had hardly time to pause and think of my personal loss." The army gave Willie a military funeral. Laid in a metallic casket, the battalion of soldiers of which Willie fancied to be an officer, escorted the sorrowing family with their lifeless child to the steamer on their return to Ohio. The stern duties of war would not allow the father the melancholy privilege of helping to bury his dear boy. How many thousand parents, who loved their boys as tenderly as Gen. Sherman loved his, did the "cruel war" bereave of their dearest earthly treasures! Willie Sherman's fancy, as to being a Sergeant in Battalion Thirteenth, United States Regulars, became after his death a tender reality to his father. Soon after the family had left, Gen. Sherman wrote the following letter to the commanding officer of the Battalion: God only knows why he should die so young. He is dead, but will not be forgotten till those who knew him in life have followed him to that same mysterious end. Please convey to the Battalion my heartfelt thanks, and assure each and all that if in after years they call on me or mine, and men. tion that they were of the Thirteenth Regulars when Willie was a sergeant, they will that will open all it has; that we will share have a key to the affections of my family with them our last blanket, our last crust. W. T. SHERMAN, Willie, for a season, was buried at Lancaster, Ohio. In 1867, his remains were removed to the side of his little brother Charles, in Calvary Cemetery, St. Louis. His grave is marked by a beautiful marble monument, designed and erected by the officers and soldiers of his Battalion, which claimed him as a sergeant and a comrade. John Ploughman's Talk About Faults. He who boasts of being perfect is perfect in folly. I have been a good deal "MY DEAR FRIEND: I cannot sleep to- up and down in the world, and I never night till I record an expression of the deep did see either a perfect horse nor man, feelings of my heart to you, and to the officers and soldiers of the Battalion, for their and I never shall till two Sundays come kind behaviour to my poor child. I realize together. You cannot get white flour that you all feel for my family the attach-out of a coal sack nor perfection out of ment of kindred, and I assure you of full reciprocity. Consistent with a sense of duty to my profession and office, I could not leave my post, and send for the family to come to me in that fatal climate, and in that sickly period of the year, and behold the result! The child that bore my name, and in whose future I reposed human nature; he who looks for it had better look for sugar in the sea. The old saying is, "Lifeless, faultless: " of dead men we should say nothing but good, but as for the living, they are all tarred more or less with the black brush, and half an eye can see it. Every head man will now and then break the plow, and often make a crooked furrow. It is foolish to turn off a tried friend because of a failing or two; for you may get rid of a one-eyed nag and buy a blind one. Being all of us full of faults, we ought to keep two bears and learn to bear and forbear with one another; since all live in glass houses, we should none of us throw stones. Everybody laughs when the saucepan says to the kettle, "How black you are!" Other men's imperfections show us our imperfections, for one sheep is much like another; and if there's an apple in my neighbor's eye there is no doubt one in mine. We ought to use our neighbors as lookingglasses to see our faults in, and mend in ourselves what we see in them. has a soft place in it, and every heart has its black drop. Every rose has its prickles, and every day its night. Even the sun shows spots, and the skies are darkened with clouds. Nobody is so wise, but he has folly enough to stock a stall at Vanity Fair. Where I could not set the fool's cap I have nevertheless heard the bells jingle. As there is no sunshine without some shadows, so is all human good mixed up with more or less of evil; even poor law guardians have their little failings, and parish beadles are not wholly of heavenly nature. The best wine has its lees. All men's faults are not written on their foreheads, and it's quite as well they are not, or hats would need very wide brims; yet as sure as eggs are eggs, faults of some sort nestle in every man's bosom. There's no telling when a man's sins may show themselves, for hares pop out of the ditch just when you are not looking for them. A horse that is weak in the legs may not stumble for a mile or two, but it is in him, and the rider had better bring him up well. The tabby cat is not lapping milk just now, but leave the dairy door open, and we will see if she is not as bad a thief as the kitten. There's fire in the flint, cool as it looks: wait till the steel gets a knock at it, and you will see. Everybody can read that rid-pleasant business, at least for other peodle, but it is not everybody that will remember to keep his gunpowder out of the way of the candle. If we would always recollect that we live among men who are imperfect, we should not be in such a fever when we find out our friend's failings; what's rotten will rend, and cracked pots will leak. Blessed is he who expects nothing of poor flesh and blood, for he shall never be disappointed. The best of men are men at the best, and the best wax will melt. It is a good horse that never stumbles, And a good wife that never grumbles. But surely such horses and wives are often found in the fool's paradise, where dumplings grow on trees. In this wicked world the straightest timber has knots in it, and the cleanest field of wheat has its share of weeds. The most careful driver one day upsets the cart, the cleverest cook spills a little broth, and, as I know to my sorrow, a very decent plow I have no patience with those who poke their noses into every man's house to smell out his faults, and put on magnifying glasses to discover their neighbor's flaws; such folks had better look at home-they might see the devil where they little expected. What we wish to see we shall see. Faults are always thick where love is thin. A white cow is always black if your eye chooses to make it so. If we sniff long enough at rose water, we shall find out that it has a bad smell. It would be a far more ple, if fault-hunters would turn their dogs to hunt out the good points in other folks the game would pay better, and nobody would stand with a pitchfork to keep the huntsmen off his farm. As for our own faults, it would take a large state to hold the account of them; but, thank God, we know where to take them, and how to get the better of them. With all our faults, God loves us still if we are trusting in His Son; therefore let us not be down-hearted, but hope to live and learn, and do some good service before we die. Though the cart creaks it will go home with its load, and the old horse, broken-kneed as he is, will do a sight of work yet. There is no use in lying down and doing nothing, because we cannot do everything. Faults, or no faults, plowing must be done, and imperfect people must do it, too, or there will be no harvest next year; bad plowman as John may be, the angels won't do his work for him, and so he is off to do it himself.-C. H. Spurgeon. |