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THE ASSAULT ON TU CUM AN.

A SOUTH AMERICAN SCENE.

FROM COLONEL KING'S ARGENTINE REPUBLIC.

SEVERAL days bad thus passed, when Gov- "Do you wish to see us pillaged, and our ernor Arouez sent an invitation to Calderon people given to the sword ?" said he. and myself to see him in private, at his re- “No, Señor; but if my efforts can be of sidence. We went, accordingly, and the any avail to prevent so fearful a calamity, governor informed us that Ouemez had been they shall not be wanting.” so foolish as to suppose that he could at a Calderon determined to remain, and we single blow crush the government of Tucu- set to work assisting in the additional prepaman; also, that he was at that moment ap- rations necessary to save the city from pillage. proaching with a strong force, and a deter- | The citadel, which lay outside the town, mination to sack the city; that in view of was already strongly garrisoned, and every this determination he had not only promised preparation had been made for an ordinary full license to his soldiery, but so sure was defense, but something more was now wanthe of success, that he had induced hundreds ing to protect the women, children, and proof the citizens of Salta to follow his army, perty of the citizens from the horrors of a prepared with carros, (carts,) trunks, and saqueo. Every man and every boy that boxes, to carry away the property that should could hold a firelock was forth with armed ; fall into their hands.

each house became a fortress; and even upon “These are the horrible facts," he conti- | the tops of houses, preparations were made nued ; “ but you will readily suppose, gen by which the women could hurl stones and tlemen, that the governor and the people of other heavy missiles upon the heads of the Tucuman are not prepared to give up their enemy. On the next day the enemy apcity without making an effort to defend it. proached. The doors of the houses were I feel that we shall have a bloody time of it; barricaded, the windows closed, and a fearand as you cannot take part with us without ful silence, broken only by the occasional compromising your neutrality, and perhaps passing of small bodies of troops, pervaded bringing down upon the country for which the whole city. The stillness was awful, you are engaged the enmity of Ouemez and boding terror; every thing that could be his government, it is well that you should done for safety had been done, and the peoleave. You are of the advance-guard of ple now only awaited the bursting of the Humaguaca, (the last village of the Argen- | impending storm. I had taken my post at the tine,) and you may escape our slaughter by house of the governor, who was now with a passage through the monte de nogals. I his troops, determined to defend that, at will furnish you with passports and horses.” least, to the last extremity, and, in the event

Finding that Calderon made no reply, I of the dreaded pillage, to protect his family. said,

With a number of his family, I had ascend“Governor, I cannot desert your city un-ed to the house-top; and from that spot we der such circumstances; and if I cannot unite | witnessed the approach of Ouemez, with his with your army in its defense, I may per- army, followed by a train of some three haps serve you in a different manner.” hundred carros, provided for the conveyance of booty. His first assault was upon the the windows, never lost their advantage, uncitadel, which lay in full view before us; but til the enemy was forced from the town, and after a short attack he entered the city, driv- the remnant of his army pursued to his own ing the garrison like sheep before him. province.

I had hoped to see a more resolute de- ! The battle over, our company descended fense of the citadel, sufficient at least to have from the house-top, and I went into the weakened the force of the assailants before street to assist in removing the wounded and reaching the town; but when the garrison | dead. The scenes that presented themselves gave way, with scarce an effort at defense, in all directions were such as are calculated I felt as though the wretch would surely | to wring the heart, and cause it to mourn accomplish his purpose.

over its utter helplessness to give tangible I had seen war in its most sanguine forms; relief. The legitimate field of battle, after had been through battle after battle, literally a contest, is horrible enough, with only its wading in blood ; yet never till now had my pictures of death and bodily suffering; but nerves trembled, or my heart quailed, at the here we saw all of that, with the addition of thought of danger. I saw Ouemez' strength; mental agony, presented in every form, and I saw his hellish preparation; and, as he in the utmost depth of excess. Wives, seekapproached, my frame shivered with fear for ing their husbands, and flying froin street the helpless and the young; yet I strove, to street with heads uncovered, and their with the best effort in my power, to soothe loose hair floating on the wind; or, having the terrible apprehensions of the females | found the cold remnant of the object of their who were clinging around me.

search, shrieking in despair, or bending in As the enemy entered the town, he was silent agony over the dead body; mothers, met by fresh troops and militia, who disputed pale and haggard with dread, inquiring for their ground, inch by inch, for a long time, their sons ; sisters frantically calling on the but at last gave way. Carnage followed names of their brothers, and children seekupon every side; Ouemez' troops separated, ing their fathers, were incidents attending carrying death and havoc through the va- the close of this battle, which the soldier is, rious streets; and, above the uproar of the fortunately, not often called upon to witness. battle, as they were met by small bands of On the one hand, I saw a husband and wife troops and citizens fighting for their fire- bearing their wounded son to his home. sides, arose the shrieks of woman and the They had placed him in a chair, and were groaning prayers of the aged. The work of thus conveying him along the street; but pillage had commenced, houses had been before they reached their house, he had forced, and their owners murdered upon breathed his last. On the other hand, I saw their owa sills, when Governor Arouez, by a a lovely girl upon her knees in the street, vigorous effort, rallied his scattered soldiery, by the side of her dead brother; and the and, falling in desperation upon the main piercing tones of her voice, as she exclaimed, body of Ouemez' army, drove them from “My God! my brother! My God! my brotheir position. New life was given to every ther!" thrilled on the inmost fibres of the heart, and new vigor to every arm, by this heart. Scenes like these were constantly success ; and the brave fellows, cheered by passing before me; and in all directions the the shouts of their friends, and by the sombre padre might be seen kneeling to women, who, with streaming eyes, waved receive the last confession of some dying their handkerchiefs from the house-tops and ) man.

A TALE WITHOUT A HEAD.

ADDRESSED TO AN INQUIRING FRIEND.

BY C. D. STUART. Now, thank fate! I have squared mat- if you would know her well; and it would ters; and, first of all neglected duties, 'I sit be better to see her when she has no dream down to fulfil my promise. I think I men- / of an intrusive foot. tioned the character of her parents ; I am

I saw her thus, sitting by the side of her

mother; a mother, over whose brow fell a quite sure I did, as also her age; but, lest I

few silvery locks, enough to make her beaumay be mistaken, allow the repetition of the

tifully venerable. Ella--for that is the name last item. She was seventeen! ah, charm

by which I shall call' her—sat reading from ing, dear seventeen! that age of sweet un

some book, perhaps that most sacred of consciousness ! Not that I am particular

| books, and she would stop at intervals and about numbers, for I am not; thirty were

look up with a holy significanee into the as good, if they wore the same brightness,

eyes of her parent, and the two seemed to the same halo; but she was seventeen, and,

kindle with the glance. I was in love! It with the grace she had found in my sight,

matters little whether I was a stealthy lookthere came also the delightful impression

eron or not; enough that I saw her thus, that hers was indeed a divine age.

and was in love! Love, with me, was not To have attempted resistance to the emo

a passion; a sentiment engrafted on impultions she inspired, would have been both

sive sensibility, to be effaeed by the first rain folly and madness with me. She was by of fanciful circumstance. It was the unno means what the world at large would

woofing of my very soul; a discovery that call beautiful. She had not thatassumed hau- | I was divided, and that the twain, in so far teur and half-languishing air, which a friend as I was concerned, were ill apart. of mine terms the “indifferent-angel-like;" | But I did not finish the portrait. I had nay, at first, to the common observer, she a dream in childhood of beauty, and in that seemed coarse ; more like a peasant-girl vision a proud bust, and high, pale forehead, from the flax-wheel-by the way, queens such as would have delighted Canova ; once thought it no shame to spin—than a rather prominent cheeks, an aquiline nose; well-bred and high-born, gentle girl. But ay! a nose in the form of which was blendwho ever saw the lights and shades of suched dignity with, if need be, scorn; and then, a picture at a glance? Who could look those lips, mellow as the sunny side of a more than once, and say there was no en- delicious peach, or the fairest cluster o chantment lingering from the pencil of the blushing grapes, forming a mouth which master, and a beauty which days, and was a volume in itself. Did you, my friend, months, and years of ravishing study and ever mark the expression of a beautiful worship could but partially comprehend ? mouth? A mouth, peopled round about I saw her first in a happy light. Never with dreamy beseechings. A mouth, the looked sunset so beautiful to me as the soft | very index of the heart beneath it; the lips

mile that played on her full-rounded and just parted, but not pouting; a quiet mirth delicate lip—a lip whose very form was laughing at the corners, and the soul of poetry and music. I saw her at home—ah, frank ingenuousness playing with a smile on you should see a beautiful woman at home. | its curves? This, with something of inten

sity to fix the colors, is her portrait; but, in sees joy for another in his own loss; I conthis, I have forgotten her eyes. I never soled my heart, and she passed from the could describe my ideal of an eye! A rich, prospect of my possession, like a light which, hazy eye, dark and watery, with long, fine for a moment, flashed over the darkness, and lashes, from beneath which flash a thousand left me a mellower night. But, was there sparkles—the radiance of liquid fire—and no beautiful memory left me for my heart's those lashes lifted timidly to emit the sacred widowhood? Did I not recur, and have I light-such are shadows, mere shadows of not ever since recurred, to that first smile my ideal eyes; such the meteors that gleam- which I saw playing on her lip at seventeen! ed upon my first love. From thencefor- A happy man is he who won her! I envy ward, I saw her a thousand times; indeed," him not; I love him that he had the power she was a transparency within my very soul; to bear so dear a trophy to his bed and an ineffable presence, from which I drank a board. I cannot see that ten years have ravishing delight.

woven one wrinkle on her brow, or changed I recollect only, after that, writing a long the joyousness of those fiery eyes, or the letter, in which I disembodied my soul to blush of those delicious lips. There are little her, and offered it for acceptance on the altar semblances of her climbing upon a father's of her love. Quietly, the post came rattling knees, but the mother is still the Ella who at its accustomed hour, and I read within | charmed me at seventeen. Not a day have five minutes, with a heart throbbing like the I loved her less ; she is as near to the pure pulse of a volcano, the seal of my fond affections of my heart as though altars and dream, my long worship, my hopes, my all! marriage-bells had never been. How can I In a few brief words of regret—on my ac- love again? Is not my soul already full count, of course—that her heart was beyond with this one tender remembrance ?" her gift, that it was already another's, and

“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.” she concluded by asking me to her wedding. I was not one who had envious thoughts of I still glide in occasionally, and sit by the daggers, corrosive sublimate, and deep cis- cottage hearth, and feel the thrill which terns. I felt no acme of despair, for I loved spelled me in youth. He is not jealous that her still, and, though she has been wedded I look on his delight, and she is no less for years, I love her now!

frank than at seventeen. Should I die Can it be that I gave her up without before them, I shall will them all but my a sigh? No, I sighed, but like one who grave-clothes.

THE ANCIENT BRAVE.

A LEGEND, BY G. W., JR.

Twas winter in the woodland;

The frost was on the ground:
Like bones on some old battle-field,

The white leaves gleamed around,
And crushed beneath the wanderer's feet

With a melancholy sound,

Faint shadowed in the moonlight,

An ancient one drew nigh:
He came with sad and solemn step,

With calm and fearless eye,
And he strode along the forest path

With a bearing proud and high.

Two trees their arms imploring

Toward the sky upbore,
And chanted with the moving wind

Such songs of spirit-lore
As the nymph-haunted sea-shell sings

Or its far-off native shore.
VOL. III,

'Twas AGowan, the chieftain,

Whilom the "eagle-eyed;"
Long years before, his voice had rung

Through all that forest wide,
And there first waved his eagle plume

In a warrior's crest of pride.

Alis years weighed heavy on him;

“Agowan! thy people wait thee; And now, with faltering tread,

Thy sires have bid us come; He came from the track of the setting sun

Thy spirit is weary of waiting, To the home of his people dead,

Thy winters have told their sum: To lay his bonos where bis maidens gung,

List, list to the soft notes round them, Where his thousand braves had bled.

The beat of the spirit-drum! Beneath the meeting branches

" It waits, child of mighty siros, Or those old trees he stood,

Last son of a lofty race, The spot where his ancient wigwam fire

For thy death-gong to ring in our ancient bals. Flashed out in the dim old wood:

AGOWAN! unveil thy face: Vainly he seeks some vestige now

A thousand kings are around thee now In that wild, stern solitude.

In their ancient council-place." Beneath those grim old giants

A wild blast shook the forest, The ancient once sat down:

And died with a saddened moan How well the spot that bore him now

In the far-off hills; and the spirit-train His earlier years had known,

From the moonlit hall was gone, That dark-gray stone, long time grown o'er

And the “Eagle Eye" sprang swiftly up With moss and lichen brown!

From his seat on the moss-gray stone. Long in the spectral moonlight

The moon-rays came like silver He bowed his silvered head:

And gat on the old chier'brow; Old AGowan communeth now

The eye that was named the Eagle's With his people's ancient dead;

Grows dim in its gleaming now; They sweep along through the whispering wood

The dream that has just swept o'er him With a noiseless, awful tread.

Tells him Adowan's soul must go. He sees their looks bent on bim,

The death-song wakes the forest The looks of that shadowy band;

As AGOWAN waits to die, He sees the toss of each warrior's plume,

Now, soft as the passing zephyr, And the wave of each spirit-hand;

Now, swelling stern and high, And he hears deep tones, that be knows full well

As the shades of his dark-eyed maidens Are the tones of the spirit-land.

And his war-plumed braves sweep by.
“Great SPIRIT of my people! thy son hath come to die

Within the ancient shades where rung his fathers' battle-cry; "
Where dark-eyed maidens warbled, and battled mighty braves;
Where blazed the council-fire, and rose his fathers' graves.
I saw them sweeping by me in a solemn march to-night,
And well I know that AGowan must plume his soul for flight: .
I saw each spectral finger point, and wave each ghostly hand
Toward the home I long to see, the Indian's spirit-land.
I saw them flitting by me, and every warrior woro
The eagle-plume upon his brow that long ago he bore;
I heard their music round me, and I know the spirit-drum,
As to my waiting spirit I heard them whisper, 'Come!'
I come to die where long ago my fathers met the foe,
Where flashed in youth my tomahawk and rung my battle-bow,
Great SPIRIT of my people! my tribe were mighty then;
Their music was the shout of battle rushing up the glen:
My young men in the forest were foremost in the chase,
The light of Great MANITTO's smile shone down upon my race;
Then AGOWAN in battle was dreadful in his might,
And thrice a thousand warriors rushed beside him to the fight:
His gaze could mark the wildest flight the eagle dared to try;
Thus gained he from his nation the proud name of Eagle Eye!
No red man was before bim ; his tribe the mightiest stood.
And far and near the suchems feared the Eagle and his brood,
But lo! against my people the white man sent his horde,
And wild and fierce the battle raged with tomahawk and sword!
In vain with thrice a thousand braves the Eagle rushed to fight;
In vain we strove like tigers 'gainst the foes' outnumbering might;
In vain each pluméd chieftain hurled his hatchet on the foe;
Like leaves before the autumn blast they struck my warriors low!
Still closed they sternly round me, wildly fighting to the death,
Till alone, amidst his slaughtered braves, the Eagle drew his breath!
The aged and the helpless, and the widow at her hearth,
The conquering pale-face, in his hour of triumph, struck to earth,
And AGOWAN, their chieftain, alone of all his race,
Toward the setting sun in bitter sadness turned his face.
Great SPIRIT of my fathers ! my people passed away
Like dew-drops from the summer sun upon that fatal day

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