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Thrice, at the huts of Fontenoy, the Eng- j
Usu column failed, .
And twice the lines of Samt Antouio, the
Dutch in vain assailed;
For town and slope were filled with fort and
flanking battery, ?
And well they swept tho English ranks and
Dutch auxiliary, _
\a vainly, through DeBarn'a wood, tho
British soldiers burst,
The French artillery drove them back, ?
diminished and dispersed.
The bloody Duko of Cumberland beheld
with anxious eye,
And ordered up his last reserve, his latest
chance to try; .
On Fontenoy! on Fontenoy! how fast his
And mustering come bis chosen troops,
like clouds at eventide.
Six thousand English veterans in stately
Their cannon blaze in front and flank
Lord Hay is at their head:
Steady they step a-down the slope-steady
they climb the hill;
Steady they load-steady they' fire, moving
right onward still.
Betwixt the wood ana Fontenoy, as thro'
a furnace blast,
Through rampart, trench and pallisade,
and bullets showering fast:
And on the open plain above, they rose and
kept their course.
With ready fire and grim resolve, that
mocked, at hostile force;
Past Fontenoy, past Fontenoy, while thin?
ner grew their ranks
They break, as broke the Znyder-Zee thro'
Holland's ocean banks. '
More idly than the summer flies, French
tir all eur s rush round:
As stubble to'the lava tide, French squad?
rons 'strew the ground;
Bomb-shells and grape, and round-shot
tore; still on they marched and fired
Fast from each volley; grenadier and vol
"Push on, my household cavalry!" King
Lome n. j.dly ?ried;
To death they rush, but rude their shock
not unavenged they died.
On through the camp tho column trod
King Louis turns his rein.
"Not yet, my liege," Saxe interposed, "the
And Fontenoy, famed Fontenoy, had been
Were not these exiles ready, then, fresh,
vehement and trae.
"Lord Claro," he says, "yon have your
wish-there are your Saxon foes!"
The Marshal almost smiles to see, so fu?
riously he goes!
How fierce the look these exiles wear,
who're wont to be BO gay!
The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in
their hearts to-day
The treaty broken, ere tho ink wherewith
'twas wrote could dry,
Their plunder'd homes, tneirruin'd shrines,
their women's parting cry,
Their priesthood hunted down like wolves,
the country overthrown
Each looks, as if revenge for all were
' staked on him alone,
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, ner over yet
Bushed on to fight a nobler band than these
proud exiles were.
O'Brien's voice is hoarse with joy, as, halt?
ing, ho commands,
"Fix bayhiets"-"charge!"-like mountain
storm rush on those fiery banda!
This is the English column ?ow, and faint
their volleys grow,
Yet, mustfring all the strength they have,
they make a gallant show;
They dress their ranks upon the hill to face
Their bayonets the breakers' foam; like
rocks, tho men behind!
One volley .crashes from their fine, when,
through the surging smoke,
With empty guns clutched in their hands,
the headlong Irish broke.
On Fontenoy! on Fontenoyl hark to that
"Revengel remember Limerickl" flash
down tho Sass&nach!
Liko hons leaping at a fold, when mad with
Right up against the English Une tho Trish
exiles sprang! j
Bright was their steel-'tis bloody now
their guns are filled with gore;
Through shattered ranks and severed files
and trampled flags they tore;
The English strove with desperate strength
-paused, rallied, staggered, fled
The green hill-side is matted close with
dying and with dead.
Across the plain, and far away, passed on
that hideous wrack,
While cavalier and fantassin dash in upon
On Fontenoy! on Fontenoy! like eagles in
With bloody plumes, the exiles stand -the
field is fought and won!
Horace Greeley's Kid? to Placerville.
When Horace Greeley was in Cali?
fornia, ovations awaited him at every
town. He had "written powerful lead?
ers in the Tribune in favor of the
Pacific Railroad, which had greatly
endeared bini to the citizens of the
Golden State, and therefore they
made much of him when he went to
At one town, the enthusiastic popu?
lace tore Iiis celebrated white coat to
pieces, and carried the pieces home to
remember him by.
The citizens of Placerville prepared
to fete the great journalist, and an
extra coach, with extra relay of horses,
was chartered of the California Stage
Company, to carry him from Folsom
to Placerviiie-distance, forty miles.
The extra was in some way delayed,
and did not leave Folsom until late
in the afternoon. Mr. Greeley was
to be feted at 7 o'clock that evening
by the citizens of Placerville, and it
was . altogether necessary that he
should be there by that hour. So the
stage company said to Henry Monk,
the driver of the extra, "Henry, this
great man must be there by 7 to?
night." And Henry answered, "The
great man shall be there."
The roads were in an awful state,
and during the first few miles out of
Folsom slow progress was made.
"Sir," said Mr. Greeley, "are you
aware that I must be at Placerville at
7 o'clock to-night?"
"I've got my orders!" laconically
replied Henry Monk.
Still the coach dragged slowly for?
"Sir," said Mr. Greeley, "this is
not a trifling matter. I must be there
Again came the answer, "I've got
But the speed was not increased,
and Mr. Greeley chafed away another
half hour, when, as he was again
about to remonstrate with the driver,
the horses started into a furious run,
and all sorts of encouraging yells
filled the air from the throat of Henry
"That is right, my good fellow!"
cried Mr. Greeley. "I'll give you
$10 when we get io Placerville. Now
we are going!"
They were, indeed, and at a terri?
Crack! crack! went the whip, and
again that voice split the air-'Git
up! hi! yi! g'long! yip! yip!"
And on they tore over stones and
ruts, up hill and down, at a rate of
speed never before achieved by stage
Mr. Greeley, who had been bounc?
ing from one end of the coach to the
other like an India-rubber ball, ma?
naged to get Ms head out of the
window, when he said:
"Do-n't-on'fc-on't you-u-u think
we-e-e shall get there by 7 if we
do-on't-on't go so fast?"
"I've got my orders!" That was
all Henry Monk said; and on tore the
It was becoming serious. Already
the journalist was extremely sore
from the terrible jolting, and again
his head "might have been seen" at
"Sir," he said, "I don't care-air
if we don't get there at 7!"
"I've got my orders!"
Fresh horses. Forward again, faster
than before. Over rocks and stumps,
Companion,) issued every W
on one of which the coaoh narrowly
escaped turning a somersault.
"See here!" shrieked JSr. Greeley^
"I don't care if we don't gefc there ?ti *
"I've got my orders! I work for
the Calif o ruy Stage Company, I do.
That's what I work for. They said,
'Git this man through by seving,'
an' this man's going through. YOB
bet! Gerlong! "Whooepl"
Another frightful jolt, and Mr.
Greeley's bald head suddenly found
its way through the roof of the coach,
amidst the crash of small timbers and
the ripping of strong canvass.
"Stop, you maniac!" he roared.
Again answered Henry Monk, "I've
got my orders! Keep y oar seat, Ho?
At Mud Springs, a village a few
miles from Placerville, they met a,
large delegation of the citizens of
Placerville, who had come out to
meet the e^ebrated editor, and escort
him to town. There was a military
company, a brass band, and, a six
horse wagon load of beautiful girls in
milk white dresses, representing all
the States in the Union. It waa
nearly dark now, bat the delegation
was amply provided with torches,
and bonfires blazed all along the road
The citizens met the coach in the
outskirts of Mud Springs, and Mr.
Monk reined in his foam-covered
"Is Mr. Greeley on board?" asked
the chairman of the committee.
"He was a few miles back!" said
Mr. Monk. "Yes," he added, after
looking down through the hole which
the fearful jolting and the head of
Mr. G. had made in the coach roof;
"Yes, I can see him. He is there."
"Mr. Greeley," said the chairman
of the committee, presenting himself
at the window of the coach, "Mrr
Greeley, we have come most cor?
dially to welcome you, sir-why, God
bless me, sir, you are bleeding at the
"I've got my orders!" cried Mr.
Monk. "My orders is as foilers: 'Git
him there by seving.' It wants a
quarter of seving. Stand out the way !"
"But, sir!" exclaimed the commit?
tee man, seizing the off leader by the
reins, "Mr. Monk, we are come to
escort him into town. Look at the
procession, sir, and the brass band,
and the people, and tho young wo?
"I've got my orders!" screamed
Mr. Monk. "My orders don't say
nothin' 'bout no brass bands and
young women. My orders says,
'Git him there by seving.' Let go
the lines. Clear the way thar. Whoo
[ep! Keep your seat, Horace." And
j the coach dashed wildly through the
procession, upsetting a portion of the
brass band and violentlylgrazing the
?wagon which contained the beautiful
young women in white.
Years hence, gray-haired, men, who
were little boys in this procession,
will tell their grand-children how foin I
stage tore through Mud Springs, and I
how Horace Greeley's bald head ever |
and anon showed itself like a wild
j apparation above the coach roof.
MT. Monk was in time. There is a
tradition that Mr. Greeley was very
indignant for awhile; then he laughed,
and finally presented Mr. Monk with
a bran new suit of clothes.
Mr. Monk himself is still in the j
j employ of the California Stage Com?
pany, and is rather fond of relating a I
story that has made bim famous all
over the Pacific coast, but he yields to
no man in his admiration for Horace i
[Artemus W'trd's New Volume.
SENO FOR SPECIMEN COPIES.
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Issued every morning, except Monday, is filled with the very LATEST NEWS,
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general satisfaction. The Phceriix has recently been greatly enlarged, and in the
quantity and quality of its reading matter will compare favorably with any paper in
South Carolina. ADVERTISEMENTS inserted at reasonable rates.
THE TRI-WEEKLY PHONIX,
For country circulation, is published every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, and
has all the reading matter of interest contained in the daily issues of the week.
S&^As the Greenville Railroad is now carrying the mail through in one day,
subscribers can obtain their papers on the day bf publication.
The Weekly Gleaner-A Home Companion.
As its uame indicates, is intended as a Family Journal. It will contain eight pages,
of FORTY-EIGHT COLUMNS. The cream of the News, Editorial, Miscellany,
Tales, Poetry, etc., of the Daily and Tri-Weekly will be found in the Weekly.
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Columbia, S. C.. February 2. 1866.